"heightening" poems
tell me...
will tomorrow bring,
all the things
i'm longing...
stowed upon its elusive wings,
tirelessly beating
and fighting
to show what's dangling
and hanging...
ready for the picking...
awaiting...
such time so it could begin its need for unloading,
delivering
and dropping,
its gleaming
treasures
on those who are deserving,
in no way lacking
so they could be at the receiving
end of this pressurising,
inking
of dwindling
words...
careless thoughts conceived only to
fuel
my deranged ramblings...
incessant mutterings of a shattering
mind...
bending backwards, almost breaking,
risking...
the chance of ever fully
mending...
hoping and praying
for a sentence that's pending
dawn's approval...
allowing
the rising
of the sun...
paving
ways for thriving
wishes,
unbarring
gates for soaring
dreams, unlocking
latches,
relieving...
the heightening
anxieties of grieving
hearts.
constantly whispering
utterances, promising
good will, happiness
and titillating
sanity.
we're thinking...
the earth is spinning,
the moon is setting,
so the sun must be rising
but...
tell me,
tomorrow...
is it coming?
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 3:25 PM UTC
I can no longer hide
My soul ignited
once disparaged
I long to share it
The chills in my spine put into words
Lips on skin
Eyes filled with sin
What is this sensation
I drip colors you cannot see
Heightening my passion
Enhancing my touch
Raw emotion channeled as such
My desire aches
The color of flush
My cage breaks
Expressions of lust
I do not fear it
I can hear you blush
My favorite sound
Our souls combust
Mar 11, 2018
Mar 11, 2018 at 11:41 PM UTC
The belated summer sky is alive
with a D r a g o n f l y ballet
Beneath,.. the rain parched sod
lay sullied, cracked open
by an unsated thirstiness
awaiting the painted autumn days
and the cleansing rain's renewal
A lace-winged hatch rises skyward
— meandering airborne —
drifting upwards like a burst of dust
dissipating in an invisible cloud
of eventide's silent breath
Darting shadows hover
above a seeker's curiosity
just this side the
softening sunset backdrop
A synthesis of fluid motion
– darting kinesis –
swift agile fliers
steal away over the thirsty pond;
their mesmerizing beauty enchants
as the dimming dusk falls silent —-
embellishing the unrelenting ending
another summer's
imminent curtain call;
reminding how inexorable-time
is only a contrived human notion,
a recurring extrapolation
of passing seasons
Heightening awareness:
how we too are only
passing through these
unholdable moments
coming to know
we cannot stop
how life unfolds
The raindrops will quench
the pond's aching thirst
again one fall someday...
— hereafter —
there will be another
beauty of dragonflies
some other eyes will see
preying on another burgeoning
gossamer-winged hatch
and
another beckoning autumn
when the dragonflies hover
below the gazing totems
in the treetops
Jesse Stillwater ... September 2018 .
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 12:52 PM UTC
Sea settling,
Birds flying,
Air whistling,
Storm coming.
People leaving,
Raindrops falling,
Clouds gathering,
Storm coming.
Sun hiding,
Wind howling,
Waves thrashing,
Storm coming.
Lightning striking,
Dogs cowering,
Thunder rumbling,
Storm coming.
Tree's creaking,
Lighthouse flashing,
Ships crashing,
Storm coming.
Rocks falling,
Fear heightening,
Rage frightening,
Storm coming.
River flooding,
Forest flattening,
Landscape changing,
Storm coming.
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 12:59 PM UTC
Oh, what a horrible night
Definitely not late December back in '63
These are the Frankie valleys of my days
Night is always black
Night always comes back
Night envelopes us in the abyss
And makes us cherish light
Heightening our senses
To help us handle the unknown
When my days are filled with stimulation
The stillness of night sinks me
Into quicksand mixed by
The current of my mind
Overflowing into the sands of time
And reminds me
Of the stillness of my eyes locked on you
Or the stillness of my actions as you walk by
Or the stillness of my heart when you call me a ******
My frustration boiled
Night's black tar
So I bottled it up
Placed it in a syringe
And medicated my love with darkness
I worked my first job at the local Kroger's
People would leave with everything they wanted
And I'd push their empty carts back into the store
The artificial lights of the street lamps
Lacked warmth
Their hypnotic buzz highlighted
The stillness of night
Making me wonder if there was any way I could be happy
Similar to when activity would die down in rehab
A pitiful wretch left to his faculties
I'd stare out the window
Into the concrete chasm
And wonder if happiness could be found by someone like me
Night continues
Night confines
Day comes
And goes
Night returns
Night reburns
Night relearned
I really hate to see the day come to an end
It'd be alright if I was on the bay with a pen
But I live near sulfur vents
Inside a searing tent
Where the hellacious temperature rises rapidly
Despite the absence of the sun's warmth
The hellfire of night
Reminisces of those
I have thoroughly failed
And my overwhelming remorse
As I stare out my window
Into the bramble ravine
I wonder about the possibility of contentment
The stillness of night answers me
But at least now I can open the door
And charge into the night headstrong
To search frantically
For someone who
Erases my history
And writes my future
And makes me wonder if I could ever be happier
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 4:13 AM UTC
There will never be a sweeter sound than that of a whispered plea from a submissive, floating from her tender lips echoing back off the walls and finding it's way into his accommodating soul behind her.It is that single word alone that keeps him spellbound heightening all of his senses for as long as she will let him love her freely .
May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 12:19 AM UTC
With a single
glance
you make me sweat--
your sticky breath
dances
melodically with every swagger
of your step.
You chronically
dehydrate
my thoughts--
ironically inspiring me
to bathe in refreshing
conscience streams
that are not mine.
I want to taste
the salty Sahara sands
between your toes
to feel what it's like this close
to the sun--
concealed by the burning
Shisha smoke you breathe
with such control into your soul.
For one steamy night
I want to be the wind
igniting--brightening--heightening
those burning embers in your eyes
watching you slither,
as if an ice cube touched your spine.
I want white light smiles
to scar our faces
the next morning,
disfiguring our charred
hearts--
our ashes scattered
by the wind from the burning
building we've collapsed.
Jul 21, 2012
Jul 21, 2012 at 1:54 PM UTC
hand in hand and two bright lights
moving through the calm night
leaves lit by the moon
hoping to find water soon
an eerie calm
loosely clasped palms
a sudden hesitation
and running imaginations
whispering with you
over a noise or two
a light disappeared
slight unacknowledged fear
****** rising
emotions heightening
a disturbance in the leaves
a tighter hold, a startled scream
you called my name
two large ears hopped away
laughter ensued
steps continued
the destination seen piece by piece
place to rest and regain peace
a rushing water found
feet slowly moving with arms around
to an unheard beat
water and rock beneath our feet
under the flecks of stars through trees
perfect night with you next to me
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 1:10 PM UTC
*chosen child for nature's creativity
tangoing to the sway of twilight trees
such spiritually sensual sensibilities
hypersensitivity heightening passion
life intensified in intellectual interest
love embellished with emotional empathy
oh, to bottle her elusive essence
to drink in her wistful nights
to infuse my tea with her promise
to scent my pillow with her dreams
uncork the atmospheric aroma
of sepia tinged crescents
wafting in celestial patisseries
sweeten the clear blue skies
with mists of crystallized honey
perfuming the divine aether
oh, fill my breath with her ephemeral
synchronize my life's pulse to the
metronome ponytails of skipping girls
followed by the tails of wagging dogs*
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 1:07 PM UTC
Too many thoughts
But
Nothing to think about.
I don't even wear black eyeliner,
Why did I put it on?
I think this ***** ......... me again
Why do i feel so nauseous?
Open a dictionary
What's the definition of cautious
If the protection of my heart
Is always the preliminary.
That song
(our song)
Explodes into the dark
Frightening me;
Elightening me;
Heightening my senses to a free falling array.
This time.
Every time.
Lingerie?
Jan 6, 2013
Jan 6, 2013 at 3:20 PM UTC
We cannot call it my "mind" today.
It's better defined as
a malfunctioning mess
of kaleidoscopic hiccups—
untimed bursts of glitter,
and mismatched shapes.
Curves clash with angles,
overlap, transform, repeat,
until the nonsense makes sense;
until the noise becomes
a soothing hum.
Without warning,
the improper becomes
the most mouthwatering idea
we've had the pleasure to rouse.
Composed of little
ten-second films of us,
bare-skinned in low light,
shifting in tempting tessellations
that bump and spiral
in heightening rhythms
just behind my eyes.
Such thoughts
were never meant
for a box—
rather a shape
more taunted and tantric.
These.
My wax-dipped daydreams
that do not beg
a single sip of permission.
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 3:14 PM UTC
Another day of anguished waiting
My earthly life, now put on hold
Another day, that I am hating
Of my death, I have been told
My life is now an hour glass
My days, those grains of sand
Veiled by tears, I watch them pass
As I am funneled, to my end
I cannot slow or stop the flow
Each grain, thus bleeds my heart
All earthly things, I should let go
But I'm yet, not ready to depart
My sorrow strikes like lightning
Piercing bolts of what’s to come
My doubts and fears keep heightening
Until deaths hand does me succumb
In this world, I’m just a speck
My life, sifting into death
As that last grain, slips past the neck
I’ll take my final breathe
I wonder if, I’ll fly on wings
Or be prodded by a scythe
Will my remorse, then save my soul
When I am forced, to leave this life
BOEMS BY JA 498
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 9:50 AM UTC
In a street swamped by
An abundant sea of darkness
Illuminated by nothing but
The concrete glow of the moon
The shadow of an amorously dangerous man
Came into existence
His ****** aroma heavily polluted the air
With opulent seduction
Making helpless slaves of
All the women in the valley
As well as heightening
Their remaining four senses
He prances around in his
Fancy, black leather jacket
With a pocket chain
Dangling from his waist side
Jet black shades occupying
The masterpiece that is his face
He blows a royal kiss of glitter
Trailing after the runaways
A swift touch to one's forehead
And in seconds she'll be on her knees
Begging and pleading for more
Simply because she can't get enough
It's as if his body was a delectable tower
Of chocolate covered strawberries
Dipped in an ocean of the most
Exquisite tasting honey known to man
Each woman who had been cast
Under his precious spell
Was now imprisoned within
A mind controlling coma
They couldn't seem to lift their inquiring eyes
From the creamy complexion of his skin
Severe urges to kiss and **** his flesh
Possessed their bodies with great power
He lives the life that most men would **** for
With thousands of women wrapped around his finger
Fulfilling his every single wish and command
Tackling him with avalanches of never ending pleasures
In the eyes of these women
He was an icon of majestic worship
They bow down before him
Massaging his toes with kisses
Leaving trails of roses to rest at his feet
And to think this persona was conceived
From his supernaturally seductive abilities
The strangest thing about this man
Was that nobody knew of his name
Nor where his audacious soul
Had so suddenly escaped from
Only that he was unimaginably handsome
His charming hex of temptation
And superior intellect alone
Had transformed stainless virgins
Into despicable nymphomaniacs
Jeopardizing the entire female gender
With his smooth talking scandals
A luxurious craft of extravagant gold
A tragic truth yet to be told
This man was known as
The Poet *** God
By Glenn McCrary
© 2011 Glenn McCrary
(All rights reserved)
Oct 24, 2011
Oct 24, 2011 at 1:40 AM UTC
Many hats on my head,
Many titles to claim,
I find it fulfilling to be,
Everything that motivates me.
One day I’m a fireman,
Another day I am a jailer,
This day I’m a poet,
Tomorrow I’ll be a mailer.
What’s funny is this,
A name and a shield,
Is merely a buck for a meal,
My ignorance is so bliss.
These paths are not me,
They are merely a guide,
For me to find whomever is me,
On a security guard’s salary.
To make films or to weep,
To keep jails or to sleep,
To fight fires or to leap,
Into this pen of little sheep.
Why is it that I,
Aim to be that guy,
Who’s career should imply,
That I’m “something” till I die?
An artist,
An actor,
An experiment of all factors,
I try hard to be somebody,
When I’m already my own everybody.
I’m exactly what I need to be,
In this world of all these faces,
Masks grow tight around these cheeks,
Why aspire to climb mountains,
And reach such heightening places?
I’m a detective one day,
An electrician by night,
A silly little dreamer,
Always ready to take on flight.
I’ll pilot this aircraft,
And spread my wings a’sailing,
Without prejudice or hesitation,
I may not always succeed,
But I’m never failing.
Oct 23, 2023
Oct 23, 2023 at 12:20 AM UTC
Touch
A heightening of senses
Touch
Bristling beneath it
Horripilation
Sweeping up bodies -
From the Latin, horrere pilus,
"to bristle" + "hair" -
The most delicious
Can be the most poisonous
Exploding with each
Touch
Anticipation erupts
Touch
At the very thought
Of such delicious fruit
Touch
May 16, 2023
May 16, 2023 at 11:21 AM UTC
Sometimes I feel
that what I have
so closely
right next to me
is so very far
there is distance
that cannot even be
named
while inside me,
a wildness
that cannot be
tamed
and I long to
break free
travel to far-off lands
get closer to
myself
as I take the spirit-reigns
into my own hands
And all the while
as I wait
trying to find that
perfect moment
for escape
I gather the warmth
and light around me
wrap it around as one,
close energetic blanket
let it charge me up
refill the spots
that have become
empty
rejuvenate that
private inner sanctum
that so few can see,
those who know
and understand
the irony
for on the circular map
marked in cities, towns
and roads
are the ones physically far
who hold me so very close
the ones who know my mind
the workings of my heart
who help gather me into wholeness
when the seams threaten
to rip apart
They know
the meanings of the ways
that this heart spills into verse
and I see how physical proximity
can be a blessing, or a curse
because when it's an illusion
it cuts right to the core
stirring up pure loneliness
bringing longing to the fore
a heightening of confusion
when the door slams in your face
and you wonder why, in your home
you can feel so out of place
And so I bless this map
mark with pins my states of love
countries and landscapes of kindness
felt through the airwaves above
and with my own love in return
I immerse all the beautiful souls
We all share the struggles and victories
provide calm
when it's out of control
I cast forth my heart to you
Let it crackle through the wires
its electricity connects
and like magic,
sweet
love
transpires
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 1:39 PM UTC
And I think I'm doin' alright
Despite the heightening
Conservative right - wing,
I think there might be a fight,
Yeah it's fuckin' frightening.
Oct 5, 2012
Oct 5, 2012 at 4:25 AM UTC
We spend all our time being jealous
For things that are not really ours
We beg for another perspective
To guide us without leaving scars
But we are the slaves and the martyrs
The ones who will never obtain
A simple oblivion ending
The heightening level of pain
And this be our chosen confession
The one we have kept on our tongues
"I want to be everyone else's"
"I want to collapse my own lungs"
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 10:02 AM UTC
battered screws stripped bare by
a hundred thousand terrible twists
from an unsteady, inexperienced,
or overly excited hand
nearly rattling out of their proper positions,
hanging rather loosely
to the last threads of their holes.
fan them as they dangle,
fandangle!
but a blue gust from beneath
the anonymous and unidentifiable bursts
the shriveled scraps of low-grade steel
from their brittle perches
and
then one,
two,
threefourfivesixseventyeightmillion
clatterings invade all audibility,
heightening --- accentuating --- underscoring
each miniscule soundwave
until there is not much more than
white noise, crack-
ling like a ruddy transitor radio
i probably never had
but only equate it to for lack of
another more proper, perhaps more appropriate,
even more...profound (?) word, or, whatever;
hardware indignationum!
what abuses we dish these inanimates created by us for us!, and, yes,
i follow all syncretic trends to
their phenomenal (and fusional)
morphological ends. if i didn't, how could
i know the neutered from the neuterer?
attend to the screws;
the debased, bemused, once-bedazzled little bits strewn on the floor and
frazzled. go on,
get 'em up, up
off the ground.
Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 1:27 PM UTC
Heavy hearted hands
lifting my body up
Almost filled up
And soon ill be snatched up
Self made
Enraged
In a cage of shame
Chained
To my Godless contemplation of the oneness
Smothering the somethings, I worked so hard for
But i adore the test
Ignore the rest
Blessings from the depth
Of my love for all of you
I dare to dream of things my eyes are too small to see
In futility to the world
I breath deeply
Unfurled
Upon the twisted shapes
Refracting light
Shifting states
Heightening my holographic hemispheres
Likening the charge of the heliosphere
To the happiness barging into the universe
In verse-less surges of sanctity
Solidifying the sanity
With purges of popularity
From the light-less Polarity
Spinning the tops
Of sincerity
Declaring its love for me
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 8:38 AM UTC
Along the valleys of Llandegfan
Fluorescent lavish she glimmers
Battling arousal unyielding I strain
As the sweltering blood simmers
Fervid quivering she assigns
Peaking atop the apex of my spine
With each stroke swift I succumb
For this moment forever I've pined
Forgive my heightening appetite
Supplementary to my avid lust
Quite the unbearable sensation
Equally as hazardous to trust
In vivid colours may we flaunt
Fornicate to lecherous taunts
© 2012 (All rights reserved)
Jan 29, 2012
Jan 29, 2012 at 7:15 AM UTC
Laying together, wrapped like ivy to a building
I look to your eyes, viewing something withheld
I kiss your lips so they part with the words your eyes hold tight
Quivering with uncertainty, they say... I want you
Lustfully I grab your perfectly curvaceous hips closer
Kiss your enticing lips
Hips undulating in unison
Senses heightening with every breath
Clothes removed as if time was ticking
Urning to feel us together
While I ****** deep, I am captivated by your beauty
Skin so flawless, begging to be caressed
Tattoo like quicksand, pulling me in
Moments of ecstasy, you state felt like forever
Feeling what I had not ever felt
A ****** of which Everest would fall short of
We lay there wearing only what we arrived with into the world
Holding each other like ivy to a building
Basking in amazement of a moment shared
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 4:01 AM UTC
Hard-hitting;
Slowly it courses through me,
Burning, bit by bit;
Heightening feelings, numbing inhibitions.
Light headed, heavy hearted, I sway;
Every step unsure.
Blurred thoughts, tunneled vision.
It helps, escaping.
For just a few hours maybe.
Escaping,
The neverending chaos that life presents,
My current reality.
Helps forgetting,
Emotions I cannot comprehend,
A world so baffling.
A few (many) shots of neat green apple *****
Oct 16, 2016
Oct 16, 2016 at 3:27 PM UTC