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"heavens" poems
It streams down eye to eye from the unseen but the all seeing. Far from the Mars far from the Neptune skipping all the planets hanging in space only on the cheek of earth, a drop of tear fell. Every angel in the heavens' shore has heard of this lore. It’s timeless long mesmerising beautiful. Far from the blue yonder sky hunky dory is delighting to the eyes the stunner is made to measure. A tear in the corner of the eye as if it's diagonally weighed down with the 360-degree open looking sky. As close as within a fingertip comes the Moon still, a sea is ahead forever untouchable!
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May 19, 2017
May 19, 2017 at 11:18 PM UTC
Eye to Eye
Doing a dance, to wear a mask, To play a game that you can’t stomach . . . Just so that the truth doesn’t have to face you, The way you recoil from reflections of yourself. You’d forsake your happiness, your health —                                                   You would burn it all. To do a dance, To wear a mask To play a game you’ll always lose.              To look in a mirror . . .              To tell an image, that it’s anything but you. And it is in that moment, that you'll find                            You’ll tell the unfamiliar truth As you bleed and feed Your own obliterated youth . . . To feel, and then                           to lose — Just like the loss you always knew                           You would find in disappointment. Like an unholy anointment                           of your least desirable possessions That retire from the heavens                           Back to you. To betray, and to amuse                                                           Alone. The ides of irony rejoice!                For they’ve found their lamb... or their ever-dying muse.                  Forsaking life itself, you clamor To see others just like you. And maybe, one day, one will choose            the path that you can’t leave, As it reciprocates to thee —             Two partners in misery, fated to excuse the waste of each other...             until they find there’s nothing left. To feel the flame within its breath consumed. Wearing a mask, To live a lie,                 And die a death,                 Whose dance you six-times misstep                               And on the seventh, betrays you. ​
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Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 7:46 AM UTC
The Way You Recoil from Reflections of Yourself
Doing a dance, to wear a mask, To play a game that you can’t stomach . . . Just so that the truth doesn’t have to face you, The way you recoil from reflections of yourself. You’d forsake your happiness, your health —                                                   You would burn it all. To do a dance, To wear a mask To play a game you’ll always lose.              To look in a mirror . . .              To tell an image, that it’s anything but you. And it is in that moment, that you'll find                            You’ll tell the unfamiliar truth As you bleed and feed Your own obliterated youth . . . To feel, and then                           to lose — Just like the loss you always knew                           You would find in disappointment. Like an unholy anointment                           of your least desirable possessions That retire from the heavens                           Back to you. To betray, and to amuse                                                           Alone. The ides of irony rejoice!                For they’ve found their lamb... or their ever-dying muse.                  Forsaking life itself, you clamor To see others just like you. And maybe, one day, one will choose            the path that you can’t leave, As it reciprocates to thee —             Two partners in misery, fated to excuse the waste of each other...             until they find there’s nothing left. To feel the flame within its breath consumed. Wearing a mask, To live a lie,                 And die a death,                 Whose dance you six-times misstep                               And on the seventh, betrays you. ​
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44
I followed my dear friends to the edge of a cliff and was greeted by a peculiar thing. There, standing on the edge of the earth was a swing set waiting just for me. Her thick black seat and strong metal arms cradled me while together we flew into the starry night canvas, sprawling dark blue, except for a splatter of twinkling firefly-speckles, from the cityscape to the moon. Each time she lifted me I felt closer to the heavens. I raised my chin and let the gentle kiss of raindrops wash away my sins, cleansing and revitalizing my body like a baptism. I’ll never forget the smell of the rain on the freshly-sprouted grass, with dew drops made from the breath of my friends hanging delicately in the sweet air like glass beads strung on a wire while the crisp wind carried me higher and higher and the most brilliant masterpiece ever created was painted across the entire night sky.
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May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 5:32 AM UTC
Swinging in the Rain
Let me slide my velvet tongue up and down the insides of your milky way until I find my path that leads the way to yours heavens bet you moan the whole way One soft touch and your ambisions slipe away your body trembles as my fingers play; high notes, low on your body silent screams slowly slip away our bodies press their luck like human nature, its in our nature, to play that way. Our bodies colliding deep inside, I'm subsiding my hips bucking, yours riding mine, my fantasy you and me in Ecstasy.
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Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 11:11 PM UTC
Ecstasy
Like the heavens and the skies Like the deep seas so wide When I am confident and true When I have faith in you Colour me blue, colour me blue Like the royals of Great Britain Like the noble in truth and ambition In my wisdom, dignity and pride In my mystery and grandeur so wise Colour me purple, colour me purple Like fire and blood Like the intensity of a flood In my strength and passion In my desire, love and emotion Colour me red, colour me red Like the warmth of the tropics Like the sun, my daily tonic When I am determined and creative When I am happy and attractive Colour me orange, colour me orange Like a smile so warm Like joy even in a storm When I am cheerful and happy In my intellect, when I am savvy Colour me yellow, colour me yellow When I am all these and more When I am despised or adored With the colours of the rainbow With the colours that make me glow Colour me colours, colour me colours
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Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 4:21 AM UTC
COLOUR ME COLOURS
The people that come into our lives do so for a reason It may only be for a day or a month or may just be for a season But when two paths cross, no matter how brief There's a lesson somewhere to be learned It may be just that we're on the wrong path and there's a corner that needs to be turned It may be to teach us that we can still fly and soar in the heavens above or it may be a brief and torrid affair to show us that we can still love And maybe my words are speaking to you and I'm part of some message you need To show you the signs that surround you so between the lines you can read.
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Apr 24, 2010
Apr 24, 2010 at 7:38 AM UTC
Lessons
Body of ocean, milk and sky, We are tangled in the hope of night. The lips of the milky way, creaming us, Stains and is **** with a taste keening; All is creation.  My meteors crash Into your ruptured Earth.  I flame Upon your must and moisted furrows And my toes are locked, rooted in yours. Body of ocean, milk and sky, In the deserts of the day you are true Oasis.  The curves and waft of your sands Seethe and sodden my barren plains, Are erasing all my wandering memories Of an endless sky and now your eyes Are the only stars I know, and your skin; A sheet that holds the heavens shimmering. Body of ocean, milk and sky, Your ******* are the heaving of grasses And wind, loft and laden in the rounded Hills, a hoard of ****** bread, bountiful, Ripe and strange.  Your hair is an endless Savannah, your valleys are gold and honeyed With milk, seared, filled by my penetrating sun. In passion we play; low on earth and deep in sky.
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May 27, 2012
May 27, 2012 at 2:49 PM UTC
Body of Ocean, Milk and Sky
1 It was one of those clear,sharp.mustless days That summer and man delight in. Never had Heaven seemed quite so high, Never had earth seemed quite so green, Never had the world seemed quite so clean Or sky so nigh. And I heard the Deity’s voice in The sun’s warm rays, And the white cloud’s intricate maze, And the blue sky’s beautiful sheen. 2 I looked to the heavens and saw him there,— A black speck downward drifting, Nearer and nearer he steadily sailed, Nearer and nearer he slid through space, In an unending aerial race, This sailor who hailed From the Clime of the Clouds.—Ever shifting, On billows of air And the blue sky seemed never so fair, And the rest of the world kept pace. 3 On the white of his head the sun flashed bright; And he battled the wind with wide pinions, Clearer and clearer the gale whistled loud, Clearer and clearer he came into view,— Bigger and blacker against the blue. Then a dragon of cloud Gathering all its minions Rushed to the fight, And swallowed him up in a bite; And the sky lay empty clear through. 4 Long I watched. And at last afar Caught sight of a speck in the vastness; Ever smaller,ever decreasing, Ever drifting,drifting awayInto the endless realms of day; Finally ceasing. So into Heaven’s vast fastness Vanished that bar Of black,as a fluttering star Goes out while still on its way. 5 So I lost him. But I shall always see In my mind The warm,yellow sun,and the ether free; The vista’s sky,and the white cloud trailing, Trailing behind,— And below the young earth’s summer-green arbors, And on high the eagle,—sailing,sailing Into far skies and unknown harbors
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40.4k
The Eagle
1 It was one of those clear,sharp.mustless days That summer and man delight in. Never had Heaven seemed quite so high, Never had earth seemed quite so green, Never had the world seemed quite so clean Or sky so nigh. And I heard the Deity’s voice in The sun’s warm rays, And the white cloud’s intricate maze, And the blue sky’s beautiful sheen. 2 I looked to the heavens and saw him there,— A black speck downward drifting, Nearer and nearer he steadily sailed, Nearer and nearer he slid through space, In an unending aerial race, This sailor who hailed From the Clime of the Clouds.—Ever shifting, On billows of air And the blue sky seemed never so fair, And the rest of the world kept pace. 3 On the white of his head the sun flashed bright; And he battled the wind with wide pinions, Clearer and clearer the gale whistled loud, Clearer and clearer he came into view,— Bigger and blacker against the blue. Then a dragon of cloud Gathering all its minions Rushed to the fight, And swallowed him up in a bite; And the sky lay empty clear through. 4 Long I watched. And at last afar Caught sight of a speck in the vastness; Ever smaller,ever decreasing, Ever drifting,drifting awayInto the endless realms of day; Finally ceasing. So into Heaven’s vast fastness Vanished that bar Of black,as a fluttering star Goes out while still on its way. 5 So I lost him. But I shall always see In my mind The warm,yellow sun,and the ether free; The vista’s sky,and the white cloud trailing, Trailing behind,— And below the young earth’s summer-green arbors, And on high the eagle,—sailing,sailing Into far skies and unknown harbors
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52
Behold Nigeria my motherland A land that sits upon the hills of many waters A country built on the ancient landmark of heroes band An Eagle that protects her citizens in the arms of her feathers. A beautiful Nigeria whose fields are as green as green could ever be An Iroko that stands on the root of peace and unity A fertile land that is as fertile as fertility can ever be A united people, a proud nation void of segregation nor discrimination in her city. My motherland a land that upholds the staff of dignity and natural endowment A land of unity and peace glowing like a river of gold across the horizon A nation that feeds on the diet of heavens supplement An ocean that runs through the test of raging storms un-torn. My motherland! My motherland! A Nigeria that adores her women more highly than the Queen of England An Olive that yields more than the cedars of Lebanon A land whose daughters are as beautiful as the daughters of Job in Jerusalem's land An independent country as powerful as the King Nebuchadnezar of Babylon. It's Nigeria my motherland A land that rests on the pillars of her freedom A country seated on the pearls and treasures of many Ireland A Nigeria that lives on the soil of heavens wisdom.
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Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 5:55 AM UTC
My Motherland
BLESSED be this place, More blessed still this tower; A ****** arrogant power Rose out of the race Uttering, mastering it, Rose like these walls from these Storm-beaten cottages -- In mockery I have set A powerful emblem up, And sing it rhyme upon rhyme In mockery of a time HaIf dead at the top. Alexandria's was a beacon tower, and Babylon's An image of the moving heavens, a log-book of the sun's journey and the moon's; And Shelley had his towers, thought's crowned powers he called them once. I declare this tower is my symbol; I declare This winding, gyring, spiring treadmill of a stair is my ancestral stair; That Goldsmith and the Dean, Berkeley and Burke have travelled there. Swift beating on his breast in sibylline frenzy blind Because the heart in his blood-sodden breast had dragged him down into mankind, Goldsmith deliberately sipping at the honey-pot of his mind, And haughtier-headed Burke that proved the State a tree, That this unconquerable labyrinth of the birds, cen- tury after century, Cast but dead leaves to mathematical equality; And God-appointed Berkeley that proved all things a dream, That this pragmatical, preposterous pig of a world, its farrow that so solid seem, Must vanish on the instant if the mind but change its theme; Saeva Indignatio and the labourer's hire, The strength that gives our blood and state magnani- mity of its own desire; Everything that is not God consumed with intellectual fire. III The purity of the unclouded moon Has flung its atrowy shaft upon the floor. Seven centuries have passed and it is pure, The blood of innocence has left no stain. There, on blood-saturated ground, have stood Soldier, assassin, executioner. Whether for daily pittance or in blind fear Or out of abstract hatred, and shed blood, But could not cast a single jet thereon. Odour of blood on the ancestral stair! And we that have shed none must gather there And clamour in drunken frenzy for the moon. IV Upon the dusty, glittering windows cling, And seem to cling upon the moonlit skies, Tortoiseshell butterflies, peacock butterflies, A couple of night-moths are on the wing. Is every modern nation like the tower, Half dead at the top? No matter what I said, For wisdom is the property of the dead, A something incompatible with life; and power, Like everything that has the stain of blood, A property of the living; but no stain Can come upon the visage of the moon When it has looked in glory from a cloud.
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Blood And The Moon
BLESSED be this place, More blessed still this tower; A ****** arrogant power Rose out of the race Uttering, mastering it, Rose like these walls from these Storm-beaten cottages -- In mockery I have set A powerful emblem up, And sing it rhyme upon rhyme In mockery of a time HaIf dead at the top. Alexandria's was a beacon tower, and Babylon's An image of the moving heavens, a log-book of the sun's journey and the moon's; And Shelley had his towers, thought's crowned powers he called them once. I declare this tower is my symbol; I declare This winding, gyring, spiring treadmill of a stair is my ancestral stair; That Goldsmith and the Dean, Berkeley and Burke have travelled there. Swift beating on his breast in sibylline frenzy blind Because the heart in his blood-sodden breast had dragged him down into mankind, Goldsmith deliberately sipping at the honey-pot of his mind, And haughtier-headed Burke that proved the State a tree, That this unconquerable labyrinth of the birds, cen- tury after century, Cast but dead leaves to mathematical equality; And God-appointed Berkeley that proved all things a dream, That this pragmatical, preposterous pig of a world, its farrow that so solid seem, Must vanish on the instant if the mind but change its theme; Saeva Indignatio and the labourer's hire, The strength that gives our blood and state magnani- mity of its own desire; Everything that is not God consumed with intellectual fire. III The purity of the unclouded moon Has flung its atrowy shaft upon the floor. Seven centuries have passed and it is pure, The blood of innocence has left no stain. There, on blood-saturated ground, have stood Soldier, assassin, executioner. Whether for daily pittance or in blind fear Or out of abstract hatred, and shed blood, But could not cast a single jet thereon. Odour of blood on the ancestral stair! And we that have shed none must gather there And clamour in drunken frenzy for the moon. IV Upon the dusty, glittering windows cling, And seem to cling upon the moonlit skies, Tortoiseshell butterflies, peacock butterflies, A couple of night-moths are on the wing. Is every modern nation like the tower, Half dead at the top? No matter what I said, For wisdom is the property of the dead, A something incompatible with life; and power, Like everything that has the stain of blood, A property of the living; but no stain Can come upon the visage of the moon When it has looked in glory from a cloud.
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69
My lips have always craved the taste of danger. Maybe it is because I don't know what's good for me or I'm in love with the high I get from it The high that takes me to the heavens, surpassing the pillow-like clouds resting against the azure canvas I remember the taste so vividly, I salivate at the thought of it It's sweet like candy, the sugary goodness rushing inside my veins delicately coating my tongue bites between my teeth explode into a thousand little pieces, dancing inside my mouth Your succulent lips pressed against mine, remind me of the taste of summer strawberries, juicy and tender with citrusy undertones we're kissing like there's no tomorrow Oh how I feel your lips part from mine, then touch and part again the way the clouds greet the sky Before a rainy afternoon How can something so bad taste this good? Oh I'm convinced your kisses are a drug Nice to play with, but toxic to the mind Kissing you must be equivalent to intoxication shockwaves through my body, the paralyzing euphoria I don't think I could ever give you up This addiction is taking control
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Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 3:34 PM UTC
Taste
Above the mountains the geese turn into the light again Painting their black silhouettes on an open sky. Sometimes everything has to be inscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that first, bright and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. Sometimes with the bones of the black sticks left when the fire has gone out someone has written something new in the ashes of your life. You are not leaving. Even as the light fades quickly now, you are arriving.
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Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 11:12 PM UTC
'The Journey' / A poem by David Whyte
The moon shines a cool blue tonight as we entwine our fingers, laying on the baseball field beneath diamond heavens. We lie in silence, in the moments when the Universe reveals itself, and contemplate the distances between one celestial body to another, the space between us growing as I turn south to find Orion while you seek Cassiopeia in the north. Shooting stars cross the sky, and we wish separately on dead stars and dead dreams, lights already grown red and extinguished as we whisper in the dark, passing between phases. And in the end we're all left searching.
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Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 8:51 PM UTC
Red-Shifted
Im a broken soul Laughing and twirling Under the stars Of the bleeding Heavens
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Nov 23, 2019
Nov 23, 2019 at 6:44 PM UTC
Cuts Bleed
"you cannot catch a wildflower" he says. "you are my wildflower." I am lost inside myself my personal paradise my own euphoric insanity could i be as manic as I sometimes believe to feel as if my soul lives in the earth beneath my feet and stretches from the root of every tree to the tips of their leaves exhaling me into the sky to float with the wind from meadow to meadow I stand with arms stretched spinning in circles like a tiny tornado grazing the tips of each blade of grass with my fingertips dancing with my pointed toes upon dewy petals breathing in the heavens of the earth feeling as if the sun was shining from within me my world could not exist without this insatiable lust for life you cannot hold me and shelter me under the dark roof you flourish in I am a wildflower I need the meadows, the sky, the sun, the air, the freedom
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May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 11:42 PM UTC
Wildflower
this is a tale of two star-crossed lovers with a love so powerful they tainted the heavens with bursts of colours they were never meant to be; mischievous little kids finding love in sinful glee in laughter, between dreams and reality and though it was lawless, they found solace because in every prison, they found a rhyme and a reason but even for a love so great, they could not escape the fates’ wrath and envy destiny pulled on their threads cut them loose, thrusted them into misery; for their memories were wiped clean, but feelings remained as strong as they had ever been the boy exiled in a far off land across the pacific sea the girl trapped in her need to break free in a realm both boring and bland ensnared in a labyrinth of woe the lovers yearned for anything— for something, for someone, to obliterate this endless longing the gods answered them in the form of two loved ones polished in every edge, a perfect someone but perfect felt too perfect and not perfect enough to fill up the hole left by a perfectly imperfect until one day the gods whispered for the winds to push the two and the birds to tug at their sleeves over mountain and sea even through the darkest valley so their paths would finally meet and so they did. in the flurry of a moment a pair of brown eyes met and time was frozen once more the two stared intently as if remembering a broken melody a lost childhood song branded as a wrong the birds fluttered and flew taking the cursed red fibre snipped them in two and the lovers felt all the lighter it was the girl who spoke first: **** the stars. i don’t want perfect, i want you.”* eyes dazzling, the boy nodded: *“we’ll invert the universe— the night sky a blank white the stars pitch black the earth moving in reverse”* the fates saw and surrendered as the stars began to wither for this love is love in all its splendor so the lovers walked away with a promise under their breaths, they both swore: *“i lost you once, but nevermore.”* ****
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Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 10:46 PM UTC
f*** the stars
this is a tale of two star-crossed lovers with a love so powerful they tainted the heavens with bursts of colours they were never meant to be; mischievous little kids finding love in sinful glee in laughter, between dreams and reality and though it was lawless, they found solace because in every prison, they found a rhyme and a reason but even for a love so great, they could not escape the fates’ wrath and envy destiny pulled on their threads cut them loose, thrusted them into misery; for their memories were wiped clean, but feelings remained as strong as they had ever been the boy exiled in a far off land across the pacific sea the girl trapped in her need to break free in a realm both boring and bland ensnared in a labyrinth of woe the lovers yearned for anything— for something, for someone, to obliterate this endless longing the gods answered them in the form of two loved ones polished in every edge, a perfect someone but perfect felt too perfect and not perfect enough to fill up the hole left by a perfectly imperfect until one day the gods whispered for the winds to push the two and the birds to tug at their sleeves over mountain and sea even through the darkest valley so their paths would finally meet and so they did. in the flurry of a moment a pair of brown eyes met and time was frozen once more the two stared intently as if remembering a broken melody a lost childhood song branded as a wrong the birds fluttered and flew taking the cursed red fibre snipped them in two and the lovers felt all the lighter it was the girl who spoke first: **** the stars. i don’t want perfect, i want you.”* eyes dazzling, the boy nodded: *“we’ll invert the universe— the night sky a blank white the stars pitch black the earth moving in reverse”* the fates saw and surrendered as the stars began to wither for this love is love in all its splendor so the lovers walked away with a promise under their breaths, they both swore: *“i lost you once, but nevermore.”* ****
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73
she loved thunder storms most of all the crackle of white hot bolts ripping through the sky the sheer immensity of power she always thought it was him her beloved God big boy Thor with his flowing blond hair blue aquatic eyes washboard stomach and delicately curved ***** finally a man good enough for her even if he was fly by night when the heavens thickened gray like soggy cotton she could feel atmospheres shift it made her ******* pert her mouth would salivate like a lurid peach her ***** swelled and dampened tears of adoration and enchantment filled her eyes no longer able to contain her self she would strip naked fling off her ******* and run out to the lush verdant meadows calling at the top of her lungs yoooooooooo hooooooooooo as the cool rain descended she ran thrilled to the mud between her toes seeing great claws of white lightening  echo through the sky without hesitation she fell to the cool earth beneath her wallowing in the delicious sloshing ooze positioning her self on all fours head thrown back *** up high calling to the heavens come on, come on big boy ive been waiting for you let me have it good her clitoral lips drooled with anticipation her ****** a pulsating aching the sky rumbled with stretching streaks of fire like a great freight train spanning infinity while the earth shook like a hollow moon she swayed her hips rhythmically to and fro whispering a love song *oh sir i need a man like you wont you love me adorations true i kneel before my sweet Lord Thor where's that hammer come on and score you are so big and im so little how about it God just a tickle hit it now give it to me good kisses baby like only you could* tears of desire cascaded down her pink cheeks as she recited her love mantra her mouth naked wet suddenly a great bolt of lightening shot down from heavens throne entering her ****** splitting her in flames her head turned dark mahogany sent careening fifty yards leaving her mouth a yawning twisted smudge of fossilized obsidian with eyes blackened flaring hollows her tender pink **** a charred flower smoldering like a petite grilled calamari
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Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 9:45 AM UTC
*GIRL IN A STORM
she loved thunder storms most of all the crackle of white hot bolts ripping through the sky the sheer immensity of power she always thought it was him her beloved God big boy Thor with his flowing blond hair blue aquatic eyes washboard stomach and delicately curved ***** finally a man good enough for her even if he was fly by night when the heavens thickened gray like soggy cotton she could feel atmospheres shift it made her ******* pert her mouth would salivate like a lurid peach her ***** swelled and dampened tears of adoration and enchantment filled her eyes no longer able to contain her self she would strip naked fling off her ******* and run out to the lush verdant meadows calling at the top of her lungs yoooooooooo hooooooooooo as the cool rain descended she ran thrilled to the mud between her toes seeing great claws of white lightening  echo through the sky without hesitation she fell to the cool earth beneath her wallowing in the delicious sloshing ooze positioning her self on all fours head thrown back *** up high calling to the heavens come on, come on big boy ive been waiting for you let me have it good her clitoral lips drooled with anticipation her ****** a pulsating aching the sky rumbled with stretching streaks of fire like a great freight train spanning infinity while the earth shook like a hollow moon she swayed her hips rhythmically to and fro whispering a love song *oh sir i need a man like you wont you love me adorations true i kneel before my sweet Lord Thor where's that hammer come on and score you are so big and im so little how about it God just a tickle hit it now give it to me good kisses baby like only you could* tears of desire cascaded down her pink cheeks as she recited her love mantra her mouth naked wet suddenly a great bolt of lightening shot down from heavens throne entering her ****** splitting her in flames her head turned dark mahogany sent careening fifty yards leaving her mouth a yawning twisted smudge of fossilized obsidian with eyes blackened flaring hollows her tender pink **** a charred flower smoldering like a petite grilled calamari
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94
*Brittle dry earth beaming with longing, For wet kisses from heavy heavens' door, In soothing rain, finds the heart’s belonging, Releasing the sweetest aroma...petrichor.* ***The mist of warm moist wafting playfully, Kissing and engulfing in a subtle unworldly spin... A feeling ensnared by the clutches of fond remembrance. Like the cadence of your breaths upon my parched skin...*** *A taste of your last dance on my fervent lips, Awoken with each drop, still makes me thirst, I lift my head, entranced by memory’s grips, Craving you, again to make my heart burst.* ***Here again...two drenched hearts encased in glass, Latent spectres melded together as they did before, Promises wrapped and bound to the gaits of the other, In eternal dance, laced with everlasting redolent petrichor...*** Dajena M rhymesmith
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Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 1:00 AM UTC
Petrichor (Collaboration with Dajena M...again!)
.     It's here again...    Heavy downpour...    I inhaled the rain,     cloying with petrichor.       Standing at my window,      looking out...     Street lamps struggled aglow.    People with brollies walking about.    My eyes reached out to the heavens,     tracing these glassy beads       as they'd free fall...         Falling by the sheets,        the pattering hastens,       periodically punctuated      by the thunder's call.      Mind is drifting and floating,        intently listening to a           million love wishes...              Liquid beauty...melding, sketching...            In light entrapped splashes.          Raindrops descend and come,          into my still life tonight...           Won't you will me numb,              with your chilly bite...              Wide-eyed enamour...             Catching a stray droplet or two.              Riding the tail of a zephyr,               finding a place where                 no trouble could ensue.             An errant gust blew            to meet with me.           The refreshing moist          meets my parted lips...         Inhaling deep in this reverie...        Into a sea of tranquillity,         my mind slowly dips...       Sigh... If the droplets were kisses...       I would savour each and every one.       If the moist wind came and caresses      I would meet it in a tight embrace    till the break of sun.   What a sight...    Almost surreal it seems...       As the light from the surrounding          lamps dances playfully...         Dispersing and exploding into a      barrage of shattered beams.     Before it gets subdued in the drops    caught by the leaves on a nearby tree...    The drops would trickle      and fall before merging,       forming stranded puddles        unable to flow...         Rippling... Splashing... Reflecting...       An image...      Borne out of a fantastic show.     An image of beating hearts,      overlapping one another...        Speaking of consequential love           and feelings so true         Intertwined...      in the promise of forever...   Slowly retrieving itself into an...   image of you...
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Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 7:18 AM UTC
Image
.     It's here again...    Heavy downpour...    I inhaled the rain,     cloying with petrichor.       Standing at my window,      looking out...     Street lamps struggled aglow.    People with brollies walking about.    My eyes reached out to the heavens,     tracing these glassy beads       as they'd free fall...         Falling by the sheets,        the pattering hastens,       periodically punctuated      by the thunder's call.      Mind is drifting and floating,        intently listening to a           million love wishes...              Liquid beauty...melding, sketching...            In light entrapped splashes.          Raindrops descend and come,          into my still life tonight...           Won't you will me numb,              with your chilly bite...              Wide-eyed enamour...             Catching a stray droplet or two.              Riding the tail of a zephyr,               finding a place where                 no trouble could ensue.             An errant gust blew            to meet with me.           The refreshing moist          meets my parted lips...         Inhaling deep in this reverie...        Into a sea of tranquillity,         my mind slowly dips...       Sigh... If the droplets were kisses...       I would savour each and every one.       If the moist wind came and caresses      I would meet it in a tight embrace    till the break of sun.   What a sight...    Almost surreal it seems...       As the light from the surrounding          lamps dances playfully...         Dispersing and exploding into a      barrage of shattered beams.     Before it gets subdued in the drops    caught by the leaves on a nearby tree...    The drops would trickle      and fall before merging,       forming stranded puddles        unable to flow...         Rippling... Splashing... Reflecting...       An image...      Borne out of a fantastic show.     An image of beating hearts,      overlapping one another...        Speaking of consequential love           and feelings so true         Intertwined...      in the promise of forever...   Slowly retrieving itself into an...   image of you...
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This level reach of blue is not my sea; Here are sweet waters, pretty in the sun, Whose quiet ripples meet obediently A marked and measured line, one after one. This is no sea of mine. that humbly laves Untroubled sands, spread glittering and warm. I have a need of wilder, crueler waves; They sicken of the calm, who knew the storm. So let a love beat over me again, Loosing its million desperate breakers wide; Sudden and terrible to rise and wane; Roaring the heavens apart; a reckless tide That casts upon the heart, as it recedes, Splinters and spars and dripping, salty weeds.
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19.7k
Fair Weather
melanin molasses, the sweetest courtship attracts the ones who have never glittered white bullets love to kiss black skin black on black crucificton, a gospel orchestrated by the higher powers ****** puddles lay with the concrete during the darkest hours night bullets play white doves during the matrimony of the bottom barrels life and its fast stint. honeymoon candles lit by the masters matches, africans seek this artificial light in times where heavens white lights could greet them with a smile and roses that are wilted. - t.m
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Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 1:06 PM UTC
melanin molasses, the sweetest love story
Well when you're Green, I will be your Brown. Like the earth that loves the flowers, I'll will be your solid ground. And I'll be your Azure, when you are Verdigris. We'll be thee most beautiful ocean that eyes have ever seen. And when you're Black, I'll be your White. Mixing all of the colors … I'll make everything alright. Now when you're Blue, I'll be your Red. If something should make you wanna cry, I will feel your pain instead. And I'll be your Orange, whenever you are Pink. We'll be thee most amazing sunset, that the sky could ever ink. And when you're Black, I'll be your White. I'll mix all of your colors … and make everything alright. Should you be Violet, I will be your Beige. Like a sleepy moonlit desert, pastelled in dunes and Sage. And when you're Gray, I will be your Rainbow. We'll be thee most soothing rainstorm the world has ever known. And when you're Black, I'll be your White. I'll mix all of your colors … yes, I'll make everything alright. With love on my palette, painting a glorious sunrise … I'll color all your mornings with a smile and brighten up your skies. If you should find yourself in sorrow from someones hate or lies … I'll take the stars down from the heavens … and paint them in your eyes. So whenever you are Black, I will always be your White. I'll mix all your colors with a promise … everything will be alright. Yes, I'll mix all of your colors with a promise … Everything's gonna be alright.
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Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 7:51 AM UTC
Colors
The Violent Storm by the Water (Do You Trust Your Imagination) was not unexpected but its fury was without compare, poet awake in semi-preparation living by water should be a human right for all, even a small room, overlooking, gives new meaning to perspective we blessed with a patio door, encased in a glass window big enough for a smallish elephant to come visit and play with children a storm is observed up close and personal as if one was in an IMAX 3D  theater, and the edges of existence were being redefined, sharpened by fury, tooled by tools untouched by mortal hands miles of bay illuminated with bass drum furious accompaniment stand before the screen, poets arms outstretched as a supplicant, the light of the lightening passes through him, yet , behind me, she still sleeps then the entire house shakes, reverberates, as if to say: ”tremble humans, cower, you are not permitted to watch my majesty, for such it was when created heaven and earth” bold poet window worshipping risky answers: “but who will know if even a poet cannot declaim sights no one else has seen?” ”true, true, but you must choose if poet truly, do you trust your imagination human, to prove that the powers of the heavens are limitless?” write of storms unseen and nature endless miracles ***”then you may call yourself a miracle too, a poet***”
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Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 12:14 PM UTC
The Violent Storm by the Water (Do You Trust Your Imagination)
’Twas noontide of summer, And midtime of night, And stars, in their orbits, Shone pale, through the light Of the brighter, cold moon. ’Mid planets her slaves, Herself in the Heavens, Her beam on the waves. I gazed awhile On her cold smile; Too cold—too cold for me— There passed, as a shroud, A fleecy cloud, And I turned away to thee, Proud Evening Star, In thy glory afar And dearer thy beam shall be; For joy to my heart Is the proud part Thou bearest in Heaven at night, And more I admire Thy distant fire, Than that colder, lowly light.
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Evening Star