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Simon Soane Jul 2013
I'm a schizophrenic hypocrite
thankfully not in a medical way
i don't have to pop pills everyday
to keep an essence of danger under control
and to stop my head doing backward flips and forward rolls
to curtail bad thoughts and contain OCD
wake up and think "what's happening to me?"
but sometimes i'm full of mazey bomb blasts
and crazy contrasts,
I'm a schizophrenic hypocrite
I say work i'm not even gonna give 50% percent never mind double
but i'll stay just below the warning threshold so i don't really get in trouble,
i do see my sick days as extra days of annual leave
but my bums on my seat most of the year and at least one Eve.
I'm always ducking and diving, i hide and they seek,
but i hit my targets every week.
They can say put down your pens,
strip your pencils of lead,
you can't stop me writing in my head
But you'll sometimes dictate what time i go to bed.
I'm a schizophrenic hypocrite
Nearly every road i walk down i've got a ***** cat friend
there meowing never drives me round the bend
but if me owing then just a letter i'll send.
I’ll rescue  spiders from the bath, without any exception,
But I’ll clean their webs and evict them when I have a house inspection.
Giving up pork, on a parity with pigges at last
But then i broke my faste with bacon for breakfast
Watching lambs a gamboling there frolicking is fab,
but i'll see you on a plate later if i'm craving a kebab.
I'm a schizophrenic hypocrite.
Money and the capitalist structure baffles, no thanks, no ta
but before i go out a quick sub off Ma and Pa.
I'll pay for a taxi, i don't care about the amount,
while checking fervently the statement from my bank account.
Cash cannot be eaten it just gets you into Eton
but i'll rifle through my pockets for pennies to get an eat on
i don't adore you, i'll say your the means to an end
but then i spend some more and ask for a lend.
I'm a schizophrenic hypocrite.
I'll say anarchy  is everywhere, petition and abstain
then  read in the late edition who i think should take the reins.  
I scream smash the system without any regrets
but then start stubbing out where they deem no cigarettes.
I'll say **** big business they are always looting tons
while cutting out Asda coupons to get the soup with croutons.
i'll say **** materialism, to that i am adverse,
"ohh if you want to get me some trainers Mum can you make em Converse? "
I'm a schizophrenic hypocrite
One Saturday i found it hard to move
crying out for water, more than needing food,
stomach emptier than the packets in my pockets
Early winter scribble
spoiled by the ripple of rain,
deadened and dull
on a precious day,
the time I crave
passes through a husk
full of caves.
Each inhabitant curses
and burns
the stagnant soil under their feet,
I want something to eat.
I need to drink.
The cold slab of sink
lures flesh to rest,
unsatisfied
with retched offerings
flung from a scorched earth
so next Friday, a few beers and l I’ll hit the hay
Ten beers later, where’s the MDMA?
And my staunch resolutions go up my nose
Chatting through the night, striking a pose,
Music accentuated, stars sparkling hard
World’s discussed in magic back yards,
Focused and fraught in tumultuous thought
Ten cigs in an hour
An hours too short,
As the morning comes, I start feeling a mess
It slowly disintegrates the treasure in my chest,
Feelings of strength crumble to a feeble frame,
Spears in my head, WHOOPS I’VE DONE IT AGAIN.
You’ll stop this time, I curse and lecture,
Two bottles down next Friday etc etc,
I’m a schizophrenic hypocrite
I remember an uneventful Tuesday when i wasn't working
belly full of rice
and i saw you twice,
two times a day,
on a day in lieu,
time stood still,
smiling at you
i thought i'm gonna have to write about you,
so i park myself in a bar after a joint in Netto carpark
and start using words to build an arc
and if you you do wanna walk in two by two,
can i walk in with you?
Is it this green ride that's getting me high
or the regret i seen in the gleam of your eye
that as soon as we said hi we said bye,
as disappointed as the catcher when he dropped the rye.
If i may be so bold,
if you were cold
i wouldn't hail these stones
i'd pummel Jack Frost until he knows he's lost,
i'll leave all the lights on to hasten global warming
make Obama declare winter a season of mourning,
If you met an iceberg of Titanic  proportions
i'd cut through it quicker than the Ripper does back street abortions.
If you were in prism
i'd try to unrangle the science of triangles
so i could build you a pyramid with all the right angles,
my stomachs in knots;
the most tranquil of tangles.
Then i saw you get out of the lift
and i wanted to play you a rift
until you exposed your midriff
because you set me adrift from chains and shackles
my mind goes crazy and fills with cackles,
i crackle with lightning, my energy heightens
my heart tightens
and not cos of cholesterol
cos i think you're special
and celestial!
I got dreams from naught, my head feels taught,
i prised a lesson from your eyes,
love is the greatest prize.
But now that's gone, all things
pass evolution in transience
faces that were everything lost to balance
blue it merge
but seldom a residual surge
and your bark today was worst than your bite
it said something softly,
i sow the seeds for the sycamore trees
we can carve our names on next summer.
Under an endless stretching sky
you wrote you
and i wrote i,
the lights in our eyes don't lie
they are gateways to the suns inside,
our hearts couldn't hide from this brightening tide.
I'm a Schizophrenic hypocrite
I remember this guy from work, cooed to me
look at the **** on this page 3
he drooled over Nuts magazine like he belonged in a zoo
i bet he frequented strippers too.
He said seen this clip, it's ******* great,
it ad turn a couple of queers straight
it was these two twins with rouge lips being rude,
the way she chomped on her like food
and they defo loved it,there is  no doubt
it's just just ***** Eskimo ******* kissing snouts
and sharing with her sister the joy of getting licked out.
Wonder how they looked in the family car?
giggling about some exciting destination,
like all kids displaying a lack of patience,
“are we there yet” chorused with glee and duality,
dressed in the same clothes to ensure parity.
Ice cream for tea.
Maybe they might be way into drugs
or addled with addiction
lacking hugs
and sore from the friction.
Not liking the glare
feeling scared.
maybe?
He said nar they love it up them baby.
But then,
i have it
about 3 or 4 times a week
after the 5th time of hitting snooze,
or a heavy night on the *****,
or sometimes no beer,
even after a sonnet of Shakespeare
a sudden urge comes over me,
GET THE LAPTOP!
GET THE *******!
Then it's
Japanese teen lesbians spitting,
finger ******* wearing mittens,
****'s ******* Britions,
oap creampies
***** covered eyes
***** flicking,
extreme suction,
**** destruction,
Captain Birds Eye gobbing
Batman ******* Robin,
A ten inch plumber ******* in a kitchen sink drama
Robert de Niro unpeeling Bananarama
Marty doing the Doc
a gimped up Kirk whipping Spoc
Rita  ******* Norris
Gail licking Fizz
Sally doing Dev
and Kevin doing ki.............Kevin, get out of the room.
Back to
a **** doing a ******
a pre op pleasuring granny
two ***** one *****,
then i chuck my muck all over my tunic
flip over and continue reading The Female ******,
I'm a Schizophrenic Hypocrite,
i've gotta split.
Pierson Pflieger Apr 2012
A bright light annoys my eyes.    I can’t get away from it- I don’t like it.  
Tired and overwhelmed with obligations and requirements,
I’d rather not complete or even think of-
I’d rather they did not exist.  

What do they prove?  

I am comfortable and lazy.  
I would like to sleep, but the smallest agitations are an unbearable annoyance.  
Obnoxious voices speaking a tongue I don’t know, laughing at my condition-
I’d rather be asleep-
quiet and asleep.  

I want a cigarette.  I hate cigarettes.  
I don’t hate cigarettes; I rather like them, especially with coffee,
but I hate how they manipulate me.  
I want one, but I’d rather sleep.  
I wish I could smoke in bed.  
I should have showered before bed.

Self-confidence comes and goes.  
Sometimes I don’t care what people think; other times it’s all I think about.  
It’s judgmental; it’s worry of acceptance, worry of not belonging, worry of standing out.  
People- including me- want to be individuals, but are not brave enough.  
Society does not accept true individuals, it kills them.  
How can I be unique or allow true self to be and true identity to exist when there is fear?

When I see her, I wonder what might have been.  
There was a connection, or maybe just an attraction.  
We lead different lives.  
She is pure and good in the church sense; I am pure and good in my own way.  
But, these two lifestyles could never intertwine.  
I must admire what she is from a far.  
I should not dwell on it too much because it is unfair to the present.  
We always want to know.  
We want to know the future, but I will get there at my own pace.

Lying in bed, I don’t remember most days.  
I only remember lying in bed the prior night, trying to remember the previous day.  
Sometimes I hate my body- not enough muscle, skinny legs, blah hair.  
Against society's standards I am mediocre.  
They know what a man should look like; I am not him.  
We are all not the portrayed he or she.  
Those people only exist on screens.  

This is the last place I want to be.  
Stuck in a class I couldn’t give a **** about,
listening to a Professor I can’t understand drone on and on in his sing-song,
marbled-mouth accent.  
Occasionally trying my patience with a drawn out, “You noh wah I main?”  
No.
I don’t know what you mean.  
I can’t understand what’s coming out of your mouth.

Apparently, the only way to be a good teacher is to jump through hoops and
dance for the cloudy heads of a department.  
If I play their games, I will have blisters on my lips from having to kiss too much ***.  
I do not need to be validated, approved, passed, accepted, or liked by them to be a good teacher.  
I know I will be a good teacher- they have no influence on that.  
They only have the ability to stall me and help steal my money.

The worst is when the pain sinks into your eyes, dull and deep.  
The pressure tunnels around your temples and tries to bore a whole through your forehead.  
Six Advil cover up the pain- only for an hour.  
Everything within your skull pushes out like a balloon on the brink of bursting.

The worst is the restless anxiety experienced lying in bed right before sleep.  
It is the empty churning of stomach, half shots of adrenaline that tickle your veins,
while the mind races like prey trying to evade predatory jaws.  
Your heart flits, skips, and stops,
as your mind obsesses about the seemingly infinite list of things you have to get done.  
That only adds to the stress- since you’re not sleeping, something could be accomplished.  
The worry heightens, the obsession increases until- sleep.

An instant of eye contact can be rare and intriguing.  
Instants too small to have time, can convey so much.  
Eye line meets eyes, eyes lock- message of vast information conveyed.  
A minute moment, an insignificant second, so monumental.  
This blip exchange ignites an internal fire of emotion or ruins your day.  
The messages that can be exchanged in the smallest,
feasible time frame are vastly unique to each experience.  
Polar and extreme: Love me - I nothing you.  
Eye contact conveys an incredible amount of information, but perhaps to be keen to it-
is to be vulnerable.  

What if it were acceptable to give into every desire or want?  
What would the world be?  
Would it be that much different or would the internal, human morale still enforce invisible boundaries?  
What would we do?  
Would the private become public?  
Would others see our lowest animal drive?  
Humans are the only being capable of acting above or below their nature.  
Rough.
Raw.  
Human animals.

It is ironic when something is built up to high expectations, but turns out anticlimactic.  
Was that it?  
That is what we waited for?  
When something does not meet expectations, it creates hollowness, an emptiness, or unfilled hole.
  
What do you do?  
What can you do?  
You can learn from it or you can let it bring you down.  
It is better to look for the positives
than dwell on and become disheartened by the negatives.  
Learn and Grow.

I am a poor student.  
I have been loaned money I will never be able to pay back.  
I am paying for a degree, to get a job that will never return the favor.  
I am strangling myself financially for a “higher education”, but am I getting it?  
Perhaps it is not the institution’s fault; perhaps, it’s my own?  

so much depends
upon

a green dollar
bill

glazed with American
greed

beside the fabricated
dream

I am poor and will be poor, but I will be happy.  
Everything costs.  Everything has a price.  Life is expensive.  
How can I save?  What can I afford to put away?  
When forty dollars in your bank account is a pleasant surprise-
surprises are cheap.
This is a piece I wrote for a class while in school.  The goal of the assignment was to capture "agitated consciousness" (write the moment you wake up, experience high or low emotions, right before falling asleep).  First thought, best thought.  I recently found this and have only made minor changes.  It is not my favorite piece I have ever written, but there are moments I enjoy.  If you have never tried to write like this, I would encourage it.  It's challenging, fun, frustrating, and revealing.  Thanks for reading.
Styles Aug 2014
You know what I  like; a fight.
Nice touch; and you love to bite.
We love the rush; you struggle
no match for my might.
Your tiny frame, twisted right.
Bending to my will.
Passion and skill,
screaming in pleasure-- you will.
Getting our fill, this little kink--
Heightens your delight.
Your body so petite, **** and tight.
squirmed your way to sweet surrender.
Gripping tight; it's now or never.
My weight pressed you to the bed,
Face down, pillowcase bracing your head.
Your *** up,
looking back at me,
just like I said.
My commands,
So stern -- you wet the bed.

Reaching down, I watched as your lips
Slowly they spread.
“command me!” is what they said.
Inspired
Valsa George Mar 2018
‘LOVE’ – What mystique power it wields
In what myriad guise it wraps!
At times a sweet ache so coy to reveal
Or a sudden urge, hard to unveil

Sometimes a deep sensation
A strong surge of emotion
Permeating every atom
Pervading from top to bottom

It heightens the pulse
And makes every nerve convulse
It has left kingdoms fall asunder
And many a mighty man - surrender

Often, like dew drops falling from above
Or the warbling notes flowing out from the grove
It leaves the heart go upbeat in prosody
Changing every sensation into rhapsody

As beams of silver cast by the moon
Or the cold touch of spray in the horrid heat of noon
It soothes, embalms and thrills the heart
Filling the void and leaving no dearth

Love sublime, sure like a candle lit
Consumes itself, and never dwindles a bit
It dispels the gloom and dissipates the fright
Invigorating the soul and healing every hurt

As brilliance to stars, fragrance to flowers
Music to flute or shade to bowers
Love is to Man, freeing him from all sores
Bestowing him the strength to meet all throes

Love can neither be beguiled nor disguised
Nor be stifled or be construed
Love puts all other things into place
And hems life with a lovely lace

Love is all we seek and too scarce to find
A magic thread by which hearts are bound
Hark! It is love that makes the world spin around
And cures all the ills that surround

Oh! Love thou virtues I will defend
wichitarick Sep 2018
RIVERS MAKES ME QUIVER

Youthful mind left wandering just feeling the wetness from yards into the curbs

Ripples running curbside over toes, forming those first streams for a meandering mind

Clouds collecting power,mists collecting,forming Drop by drop rains flowing into their reserves  

High mountain lakes reflecting their passion, partitioned by beavers to make their own pond

  Broken into brooks flowing faster downward into streams,cool and clear their taste like sweet liqueurs

Beauty not confined to a torrent but gifted with greenery and wildlife ,flowers that make the forests more confident

Trickles forming into cascades downward making outpourings & overflows waterfalls forced through the fissures

Gravity needs spaces we watch as it heightens then widens,making it's way through the continent quickly becoming most prominent

Admire her beauty but reap her rewards,wet bounty to feed the fields, food for fishes ,generations receive her treasures

Canoeists,kayakers or legendary steamboat captains are fond of their flowing, boys wondering where she will go ,knowing our tears of joy will flow to the sea should be our greatest compliment. R.C.
Nice memories from time spent on or in some favorite rivers,but also how great a part they play in our lives and the geography . Thanks for reading ,your thoughts are helpful. Rick
Tuesday Pixie Oct 2014
You have long nails
I chew mine
Stunt their growth
With nervous teeth
Hungry teeth

I stunt mine
And lament their loss

We contrast
Black to colour
Stride to bounce
Distanced to cuddly

You avert questions,
Throwing random jest
I open up and bare my soul
Honest as I can figure

Under these beautiful cloaks
We sing in unison
Sorrow and deep caring
Somehow, we understand.

Our awkwardness is equal to none
That just heightens the intensity
I explore, feet, hands,
You let me, then clasp tight

The goth and the pixie.
Who would have thought?
We all have such beautiful cloaks!
ANANDO SEN May 2010
Your white bosoms releasing that white serum.
That curvaceous mound feeds humanity,
That makes the biggest humanity via motherhood wisdom.

Your pink ******* arousing that tempest blood.
That soft hill becoming hard,
That hardens which heightens the adulthood.

Your black ***** taming sin.
That concealed shape popping out to provoke,
That provokes to **** feminism in mean.
The short poetic piece defines the portion of the feminine torso in three different ways. The language and understanding is simple yet astounding. The three different interpretations of the female ***** are not intended to evoke any kind of vulgarity but appraise the different roles played by the woman *****. The script is an attempt to entice topical readership in a different and dignified way.
Erin Hankemeier Apr 2014
Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation.
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination
Silently the senses abandon their defences...

Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendour.
Grasp it, sense it tremulous and tender.
Turn your face away from the garish light of day,
Turn your face away from cold, unfeeling light -
and listen to the music of the night...

Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams!
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before!
Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar!
And you'll live as you've never lived before.

Softly, deftly, music shall caress you.
Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you.
Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind,
in this darkness which you know you cannot fight
the darkness of the music of the night.

Let your mind start a journey through a strange, new world!
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before!
Let your soul take you where you long to be!
Only then can you belong to me.

Floating, falling, sweet intoxication!
Touch me, trust me, savour each sensation!
Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in,
To the harmony which dreams alone can write,
The power of the music of the night!

You alone can make my song take flight,
Help me make the music of the night.
Music Of The Night from Phantom Of The Opera is an extremely mesmerizing piece. Everybody has their own perspective of this song, but to me, the singer is feeling immense love for another person. He sings about sensations, imagination, splendors, tenderness, fantasies, a new world, harmony. He asks his love to help him make music of the night.
Everybody has their own perspective of this song, but I believe this song is an immensely exquisite piece that everybody should feel in their soul.

If you want to listen to it, look on Youtube. I, personally, believe the best version is by Andrew Lloyd Webber.
Kemy Sep 2018
In Greek Mythology, Terpsichore “delight in dancing” was one of the nine Muses and goddess of dance and chorus. She is usually shown dancing and sometimes holding a lyre, accompanying the ballerinas’ choirs with her music

Close your eyes, relax the spaces of your mind
Delight in Dancing I give to you, practiced from the beginning of time
Terpsichore, the Greek Mythology Muse of dance and chores as I hold my lyre
Passion, lust, desire, graceful movements for the mind to inspire
Enticing the man’s **** flames of fire
No rhythm to engage, only your body, the essence of this muse, no cloth or Greek attire

The body enticement found in a wanton dance
The sum of ninety-three, the Thelema spiritual philosophy for a man to understand
Ancient dances to make the skies shed rain
Dancing in glee to escape life’s stinging pain
The muse within me guides your mind to move like the smooth flow of sand
A beautiful crusade to be shared between woman and man
Lucid, rumbustious, daring, as feet moves to the beat
As you hark unto the dance, as my lyre sets the energy of your soul free

Medicine, ceremonial, rituals, and entertainment dances to amuse
Terpsichore, the Greek Mythology Muse of sensual dances, no man could refuse
Under the silken covers time we reclaim
Two bodies seeking the carnal feast of its weakening fame
A private dance made for two lovers, my lyre discreet to be
Instilled passion under the moonlit, giving and receiving, the commencement of you and me

From the taste of my honey dripped lips
The dance of grace, elegance, seduction, the heart it eclipses
Clench me tighter and feel the alluring sway of my hips
The balance of my soft hands roaming over you, your body basking in the abyss of a wet slip
Linking my arms around your neck as we attune to this emotional dance
The lyre, my chorus backdrop, as the enticing moves heightens of this sultry romance

Allow the rhythm once inside as the elixir of love floats from you
Dip me slowly, worshipping my soul, losing your mind in the addictive moves
Body to body, feast of love found in the magnetic inviting grooves
Spinning me around, taking my mind pass the stars
Come into me as you taste Venus, dancing found under the planet Mars

I’m dizzy from the twirling thrill
Pull me closer, sinking deeper and deeper of your own free will
The rapture with the chorus of my tuneful lyre surrounding us, as time stands still
Feel the essence of my erratic heartbeat as it’s matching yours
Blissful finale of dancing bodies, sedated, perspiration seeps from pores
Breathless and content, as allowed me to take your mind for a sequestered tour  
Heart to heart
My lyre, when dancing with a love one, is a masterpiece work of art

I’ve danced in times of old with my lyre, the chorus played in sync on Mt. Olympics, to the Roman towers  
A woman’s greatest asset as she cajoles in a passionate dance, entrenched by the slow dancing power
Love comes in droves while whirling in the soft mist of a rain shower

Bedazzled under the once seductive poetic words of Horace
Terpsichore, the Greek Mythology Muse of dance heard with my lyre, and chorus
This poem is dedicated to anyone who has a love for Greek Mythology Muses, Gods or, Goddesses such as myself. I will post every now and then a Greek Mythology Muse, God, or Goddess.
Catherine Jan 2014
I was waiting
And now am found

I was longing
And now I long no more

I was lonely
And now you hold me close

I was escaping
And you caught me by the heart

The heart is strong, but it can be weak
The heart is strong, but it can be lost
The heart is strong, but it can lose pace
The heart is strong, but it is stronger next to yours

Logic, that's all this is.
Love is logical.
That is, when it comes down to rationality.

When it comes down to feeling,
when it is based on emotion,
when you feel your rib cage straining against that translucent chest of yours.
When the beating becomes unbearable,
and the threshold of pain heightens,
and your rationality weakens.

Only then does logic yield.
Adellebee Jul 2012
The static ghost beneath the rainbow
Creeps patiently towards the house on the right
The sun sets with a mild thunderstorm
And the rain crushes the leaves on the trees
Take shelter in the garage. Ill watch from the window
The wind rattling the closed down doors
The marijuana we smoked; heightens hometown weather patterns
As I stare out the glass towards the driveway
Desperate kisses
Taste roses and peaches
Grips hair
Breath trembles
Desire
Lust
Craving
Yearning
Velvet bed
Tight flower
Hot sheets enchant
Untie corset
Unhook garters
Fingers dance slow circles
Pouring wax
Stroking oil
Soft hips
Tongue stroking...
Strawberry shudders
Unyielding teeth
Weak pleasures
Sultry sway
Heightens raw need, greed

Burst Cherry
Exquisite cries
Swimming body freely
Skin glides
******
Penetrate
Damp Rhythm
Primitive, Swollen, Ragged, Fevered

                                                       ­                                         ****.
Copyright © 2010 Jacqueline Ivascu
weaver Nov 2013
Today is Tuesday, November 19th, 2013. And I want to talk about you. I want to talk about the clenching and fizzing in my stomach right now as I imagine wrapping you up in my arms and having you close again. I want to talk about the ache in my chest when I think about how it's been ninety days since I last kissed you, since the day I saw you cry as I let you slowly drop from my arms, then hands, then fingertips, and drove away, looking out the window to see you let your head fall into your hands. It's been ninety days since I sat on the floor of the airport and felt my entire being rebelling against getting on that plane and recrossing the thousands of miles that separate us. I want to talk about how I tuck those thoughts away and instead smile as I think of giving you piggyback rides through the park, and kissing in front of churches, and diving into cold pools, and touching you softly as we lay unclothed in your bed, and laughing so hard at your jokes that I'm sure I'm making a fool of myself.

I want to talk about you. I want to talk about you and me. I want to talk about you with me. I want to talk about how you say things that stop me in my tracks and make me reevaluate the truth. I know you, but I can never quite predict your opinions or reactions. You surprise me in this really heart stopping, sometimes refreshing, sometimes eerie way.

I want to talk about how beautiful you are, god, let me please talk about this. Your mind is an intricate, thrumming place that I love to get inside and peek in its dusty corners. I'll try not to leave fingerprints, but I hope you'll forgive me if I do. I think I'm the first person to see some of these places, and I respect them with a reverence. And your heart, your heart... it's an open space that fluctuates and adjusts around me. I know it's learning how to make me fit, but considering that, I'm very comfortable here. It's not a maze, not a grand palace, but not run down either. It's warm in here, slightly musty in the back rooms but in a nice way, while the front is breezy. It's cryptic at first, it's easy to question where one is when first entering. But it has an essence so very you that it's impossible to lose your way completely. I've wandered enough to memorize some of the walls and walk around with a timid freedom. I don't think I would ever dare stride through with arrogance, but I hope to gain confidence the more I explore. Your outside is just as breathtaking. Sometimes I look at the pictures of us together and I stare at your face like it's a puzzle I can solve, because you are indeed the prettiest girl I have ever seen and it astonishes me that yes - you are real. You have this smile that I try to coax out as much as possible, and eyes that are pleasant and warm. Have I told you how much I've always loved brown eyes? It's a colour that suits your irises, that suits you. The image I get when I imagine looking into your eyes is that of wrapped up in soft blankets in a field at dusk. You have beautiful hair that you love to complain about, but I am forever adoring of how it sticks every which way and makes you look - yeah, I'm going to say it - pretty **** cool. Your body is fit and perfect and I'll tell you again, I am so, so jealous. Shadows reach around you to try and feel your shape, rain trickles across your smooth skin to try and kiss as much as it can reach. And when your body tangles with mine, it's magic. You are warm and soft and my fingertips can't help but want to trace a map over you, pressing into their favorite places and trailing across your frame as lightly as a sigh. Your voice, if I had to pick, is the thing that best represents you. Its most frequent setting is this strong, hardy tone that gets your point across with as much bluntness as the words you choose. When you're sleepy it becomes soft and drawling and muffled. When you have to act professional, it heightens and becomes cheery and sweet. When you're touched, it turns lovely and breathy and exquisitely feminine. You are embodied by these sides of you, and there's more I'm yet to hear and learn from it. All of it is beautiful in a way so uniquely you that I smile just in Knowing.

I want to talk about knowing you. I've always wanted just to know you, from the day we met. That was the prevailing thought: How to Know You. Now every day I am given glimpses into you, and every day I'll know a little more, and I couldn't be happier.

I want to talk about you. I want to talk about how much I love you. I love you the way lights love to pool on the sidewalk. I love you the way ink loves the abstract. I love you the way sand loves seashells. I love you the way trees love sunlight. I love you the way airplanes love the sky. I love you with a ferocity and a tenderness and an affection it halts the motion of the world for moments at a time. You bring words and metaphors to mind in a way no inspiration could, and the next second you stop all thought dead and leave my head buzzing pleasantly empty. I used to refuse to write of love; now my hands know of little else. You've changed me, profoundly, intensely. What did I spend my thoughts on before? Now, I just want to talk about you.
i know this is prose, not a poem, but i wanted to share it here anyway. it's freshly written and minimally edited, and i was so happy writing it i could melt. hope some of you like it enough to get through all of it.

twitter.com/cunningweaver
060 Mar 2018
My body throbs in places it's never before.
My nerves are tingling - twitching at my knees.
You hold my close as if to keep me steady.
Then you skip a beat and my tongue goes heavy.

It's curled against the ceiling of my mouth
As I hold back these screams.
I dare not shout.

Your grasp tightens as this feeling - it... heightens.
And you pull me back.
And plant soundless kisses in my back.
And I'll come for you...
In silence...
oh what sustains this mind

a mind that teeters

on the edge of a spiral vertigo

that sways and rocks

in an unease of palpitations

attempting to escape

from the brutal insensitivity

of the granite faces that occupy the streets

a mind of hallucinated perceptions

with a constant stream of imagery

that finds a difficulty in the self negotiation,

the articulation of its inner geography

where a frightened availability of disturbance

in the vocabulary of its chemical graffiti

leaves speech vacated on the tongue

where eyes are pushed to see

a discord of sympathies for different dimensions

that has one disassociated, cut off from the immediate

living in an inner dialogue

of rebellious and unconventional preoccupations  

a self alienation that heightens

the poetic colouring of the imagination

causes a ******* of the mind

that makes me cripplingly aware

of the abyss at the heart of my inner disquiet

makes my toes hover on the jagged edge of the world

yet I jump choosing discovery over societal dictum

to do rather than be
A Machele Jul 2012
the holidays draw to a close
the new year coming closer every day
the age of aquarius
bringing change in a whole new way
consciousness lightens
and awareness heightens
to a breathtaking sight
justice is delivered to all waiting hands
the karmic balance of the universe overflows its sands

the souls of darkened hearts are soon to be dismayed
pure love and light is all that will be displayed
the end of the battle of good & evil has begun
they say our time is nigh
so let's all give it one last good run

will it be the end of life on earth
or just life as we know it?
somehow something will spectacular will take place
if only we don't blow it
a transformation of mankind
a serenity in the making
the garden of Eden restored
solely for our taking

now is the time to prepare with open hearts
for when we least expect it a revolution will start
let us not surrender our compassion and goodwill
this will be our greatest weapon against the hearts of the ill

flourish with tender thoughts and legacy
penetrate the wicked souls of supremacy
banish the traitors from the land which they reign
to govern nature is blasphemy in plain
26. dec 11
talent or
She feels like a young woman,
once again...
It's not like its
her first kiss,
first date,
or first love-
but it feels like
Her First All Over Again...
Its almost; as if,
she's gone back in time.

Her hands are cool,
palms sweaty-
Her heart is beating rapidly,
her tummy full of lil' butterflies-
She's a woman now-
but, the excitement, is just the same.
Should she have these feelings,
as she is, even though,
she isn't a young one anymore?

Her and her beau
are sitting on her bed-
He leans towards her,
she closes her eyes-
as he brushes his lips upon hers.
His lips...
so warm, soft, and giving!

He puts a hand through her hair,
along her neck, pulling her towards him-
closer, to deepen their kiss!
She puts a hand on his chest,
the other on the back
of his head-
keeping him right where she wants him.

They kiss for several long moments...
She moans softly,
he pulls her upward
and gently sits her upon his lap.
They melt into one another!

Each kiss;
more intense and increasingly
demanding, as the previous one-
he wants to taste her fully-
he flicks his tongue along her upper lip-
coaxing her to open up to him,
hoping she'll allow him access-

She parts her lips
with a hunger like no other
she had felt before!
Oh, the passion they feel...
the enticement that builds-
His tongue teases hers
with a seductive tangle...

Finally,
as their internal heat is high,
their clothing; too constricting-
they undress one another-
throwing articles of clothing
this way and that-
They have this bite of Heaven-
these stolen cherished moments
to just him and her... alone!

Passion, and pure desire
heightens them to anew.
The friendship
these two have built;
has been turning into this love
they now feel.
This love these two
feel, has been growing
for several months,
is right at their hands;
becoming deeper-
making them come alive!

Feeling so right, he takes her-
entering her in one full deep movement-
claiming her as only his!
Taking their passion
to a high- neither
could remember feeling before-

As they ****** together,
and lay in one another's arms'
totally satisfied- they cuddle
and close their eyes just for a few moments-
Then, he tells her he's never felt
so loved before!
And the twinkle in her eye
tells him she feels just the same!

2007


COPYRIGHT; Sabrina Denise Healey,
~Angelmom~
Come lay beneath the skylight
At a time when it's calm and quiet
There's always a strangeness within the silence
It heightens as the contiguous melodies crescendo without a pilot

Thoughts embraced are pushed aside for this moment
To catch the breath in the night with rhythm as a component
Still like the stem, of a flower unveiling the crown
Deepening down as time is frozen  to claim the golden exponent

Midnight brings whimsical strings plucked by the creatures that hail
Nature springs underneath man's dreams; Those clouds that we sail
Through aural communication comes the cerebral provocation
That latent faculties synchronize and incite with an inhale, then exhale
**FadedFate**
Sarah Jystad Feb 2010
I would rather be
A star swirling in unconscious ecstasy, or
The air captivated by gravity, or
One single wave as it shies from the shore, or
A pebble cemented into the sidewalk path underneath a leaf
as it’s cracked and crushed under the heedless, preoccupied nature of man, or
A humble crease of a sick rose’s petal, or
One coffee ground stuck to the bottom of a yellowed, chipped mug,
Because it doesn’t matter, it does not matter.
Nothing truly matters.
Whether you’re privileged or impoverished,
Content or depressed, dispassionate or obsessed,
A ****** or a giant, timid or defiant,
Powerful,
                           Crippled,
Insane,
                Naïve,
Whether you’re green with jealousy or environmental tendencies,
Whether you Fight,
Fight for world peace,
Fight to end, to ****, Hunger,
It will not matter.
Because Man is addicted to conflict.

War is on the pedestal.

Hatred, envy, greed, lust, and hunger all

FIGHT

To ensure its power.

With every hand that scrambles for control,
With every eye that narrows to aim,
With every breath held for stability,
That pedestal heightens and heightens.

You might as well sigh for the butterfly who killed all those damaged, but innocent individuals.
Its gentle wings, essential to its survival, are to blame.
So you might as well accuse that abusive husband in New Jersey for the Iraqi War,
And that fisherman in the ****** Islands for global warming,
Or that little boy who's crying for the emasculated, shrunken, pathetic homeless man muttering,
“Hope is hope because hope is never hope. Hope like a rabbit, hope hope hope.”

Can you not see?
Can you even Be?

I can only hope for an escape, an exploitation of no conflict or aggravation.
just one wisp of matter with no conscious mind.
I can only point at all inconsistence with determination to prove that the only consistency in this entire universe is simply
ILLUSION.
2/24/09
Pedro Tejada May 2012
You make me not hate snoring.
You miracle worker, you.
Usually it feels like a lawnmower
massaging my skull, but you, buddy,
croak like an angel.

The acoustics of your voice,
the high fidelity and crumpled static,
the seesaw between treble and bass,
have my head singing
pitch-perfect harmonies.
Your hum slows down my tempo,
heightens my crescendo,
sends my heart pumping
at double-time *staccato.
helena alexis May 2020
i met this girl once
she was different
“wanna have some fun?”
she whispered

this feeling of euphoria
courses through my veins
when i’m with her

she created stars in my eyes
so full of light
she makes me feel ecstatic
she opened my eyes to a new world
a world where i’m happy

she makes everything so bright
and vibrant, full of color
she heightens my senses

i’ve fallen in love with her
dancing and laughing
under the moonlight
i never want to be
alone without her again
a poem about my favorite drug
Paul Morgana Feb 2013
You pulled me up and saved my skin,
Your voice it rises up over the din.

Good advice and fun we do make,
Villa Roma, a walk down by the lake.

I've never known such love and support,
My friend and lover, a total cohort.

Making new memories, day by day,
And wake together, at night we lay.

On our six by eight, on earth it's unmatched,
Strengthen emotions, relations are patched.

Little do we need to place a patch,
Emotions are strong, a perfect match.

Days turn to weeks and the months go by,
Feelings and emotions grow towards the sky.

This trip we are on, a short ride it has been,
The intensity heightens, I'm sure we will win.

Winning this game means together we stay,
Putting old troubles and relations away.

Spending my time, thinking how to please,
With you in my life, the thoughts come with ease.

More than ***, in love with her mind,
Sweet and gentle, caring and kind.

What have I done to deserve god's bless?
Her love grows stronger, even when I'm a mess.

Your presence is needed, without it I wilt,
A stronger foundation has never been built

Visit poemsbypaul.com
Dolores L Day Jun 2014
Why is it you?
Of all people to have the ability to ruin me
why is it you? Bryan?

You're awkward and too tall
on top unmitigated gall
you're plain rude.

So why do I want you?
Bryan?

In my mind there's a collection
of every time you've shown affection
and

The slightest inclination
only heightens my determination
to trip you.

I want you to fall hard
for me. Bryan.

With every facebooked text
it's been my only request
for the whole year.

Did you notice?
Bryan?

When the smallest appreciation
left my pupils dilated
it's so degrading

When my faith in you is fading
more praise is awaiting
I am stuck in this net.

What's so unfair
is that you're not even aware
of what you do to me.

If I told you, would you love me?
Bryan?
If you knew how much I thought about you would you reply to my messages?
Khrystle Rea Feb 2013
With eyes open it's all black. Surrounding
Encased by dark and heavy emotions:
Thinking if I am alone, just heightens
The walls as I grip preparing to swing
To surpass the thoughts of no good doing;
By believing in true self with no harm;
Where words are judged to notify alarms
That brings tunes where sorrow melodies ring.
The frustration moves to show the sky blue,
Knowing my strength is never far away,
Unclear: Why is being together *******?
Thwarted, trying to keep my sea at bay
Fearful to escape this prison I grew
To truly be true to my chimes in prayer.
one day we will shed these bodies.
but please know,
the pain & suffering will fade.
he is not unjust in his wrath.
we share the earth, wicked & depraved.
our goal to know him & make him known.
he will not forget your works.
stay true.
stay just.
stay faithful.
to the end.
people lose love & sight when making decisions.
does not become indifference.
asking
what will they do?
what will you do?
ask.

& a cloud of witnesses beyond the bleachers, high above the home team's field.
unaware, where they play, we are waiting for blood. our sixth sense heightens & our visions spread. we are hungry.

in moments we will all taste the gaze.

we feel the thunder overhead.
between each bolt of fury, we trust our new instict.
trusting our new teeth from strange eons ago.
our skin sheds.
& into our shadows we step.
restless as the noise swells & we persist through passion.
flames scream leaving their home below.  
     now calm.
now dead.
our hunger disguised.

& we understand victory.
Tragedy
One4u2nv Mar 2013
Always with the separate rooms, same separate landlocked pontoons. Another follow up,  billow of rank stank air, stale like the calming still of shell shocked monsoons, into the deep dark abyss I stare-

Heightens my senses, that still begotten presence of quarantined ill begotten dimensions, left stark and in the dark with nothing but the whistling of our declining pensions-

Repentance ask it of yourself, there's always an extra bottle on the tippy top shelf, reach high, you don't have to lie now, go ahead and lay that lye down-

Corrosion never felt so **** good...
Ottar Apr 2016
The grounds echo sounds of gardeners grooming.
The blue sky canvas and a wash of clouds,
hang lightly, dressing up the place for show.

Pruned branches and piled neat cut grasses show,
uneven sweat stained shirts, on grooming
gardeners, hoped on winds below the clouds.

The vaulted layer heightens heat, no clouds
move, the breeze blows no reprieve, a no show
by day's end, the gardeners need grooming,

without clouds, a shower shows good grooming.
Tritina ABC, CAB, BCA and final including all three
David Barr Apr 2015
A thick veil is sensually wrapped across the face of those presumed intellectual and spiritual insights, and heightens the awareness of your sublime intrigue.
It truly is a paradise lost, where ancient illusions continue to tickle my raging nostalgia with eager anticipations of forbidden refreshments.
Yet, I am not unaware of the concealment of those predictable and ludicrously mystical allurements, which you so proudly pronounce across those who are deemed to be inferior to your supremacy.
How trivial are your so-called strategies, as you are always captured after an effortless and psychological pursuit.
Therefore, how adept are you, thinkest thou, in your futile system of narcissism?
Vanity is a deplorable emptiness which scoffs at those who are deemed to be subservient to the lofty heights of your utmost divorce from reality.
The definition of a delusion is a fixed and false belief.
We have now constructed a picture where the application of this psychological veil exposes your profound ugliness.
Dunya Sun Aug 2013
Time is money
money is time
So when they say it takes money to make money
They mean it takes time.
We all get the same amount daily
Personality gives quality
Because no one can survive selling off white canvases
portraying the self
to receive currensy

Gotta keep ths bar raised
Above and beyond what we call minimum wage
You gotta sell yourself in order to receive a fat check on pay day
Meaning understanding that wealth
Pertains to ones health
Properly known that to diet right heightens stealth.
Mediation nourishes the soul
Hydrating, purifying the flow
Keeping busy to stimulate the brain
Always on top when ignorant folk do or say anything

Its plain to see
Finding yourself includes paying off a bunch of fees
Some say taxes but its really adversity
Cause nothing worth having in life ever comes easy
Best way to succeed is to merely just be me
I can only speak for myself,  cause its my world, my industry
My mind cant escape to retrieve too much of another mans mysteries
Ill burst like a bubble
My mind is that fragile
But ill forever help those in need with any one of their battling struggles
Lori Jean Feb 2011
Title:  “I came, I saw, I conquered”.
(A familiar quote by Julius Caesar after victory in a short war.)
More than the standard reference this sentence is also a delightful representation in the first person.  Thus, the drama begins in the title, itself.   The title is meant to emphasize the beginning; one person speaking of himself in the first person.  A person in need of power and victory.

1st Stanza:  With one voice
With one voice he strikes in anger with effective words.  He desires for all things to uplift his need for approval.  With glorious speeches he calls for others to join him.  He becomes more encouraged as he calls out his grandiose ideas and philosophy of things to come.

2nd Stanza:  The Bond of Unity
The uncontrolled need of the power-hungry ruler requires even more to satisfy his ego and personal needs.  Without this step, he would fail.  He succeeds however, as his call to strangers is heard and they eagerly gather to be controlled and commit to fight for the cause they now believe in.

3rd Stanza:  State before the War
The “Angel” represents either (or both) of the opposing sides preparing for battle.  Both sides now feel they are doing the right thing for the right reasons; pure intentions.  At this point, actions begin, testing the opponent as the drama heightens and preparations ensue.

4th Stanza: Woe to the conquered!
From one with power and angry words – to the veracious battle.  Reasoning is lost.  Only winning counts now.  The ground has been laid for treacherous harm.  Emotions unparalleled.  All crimes now justified.  Destruction inevitable.

The poem itself is meant to increase in intensity with each stanza.
Latin phrases are used for drama, depth, and intensity.  
Lastly, the hidden natural elements of Wind, Air, Fire, and Earth represent man’s nature.
Inevitably present and capable of fierce and volatile chaos.
You will find one of each of these elements in the first line; last word, of each stanza.
The authors explanation of an otherwise unclear poem.
Copyright Lori Jean Vance 02/13/11
Kvothe Sep 2014
Words are like fruit,
hanging freely,
really just waiting
to be plucked.
Some tantilize the tongue
with sweetness,
pieces meeting
our mouth with
juicy meaning.
Others leave
a sour shock
to our senses.
When this
bitter biting
heightens
the now rising
sense of
crying,
we recoil.
Curling away
from the
not so ripe
narration.
Patient,
for a  more
cohesive cocktail's
coming.
Just a little thought on writing
Your heart races
As he holds your hand
You watch the ground
Waiting for something to Spark
That spark you are desperate to ignite
Small glanced up at him
His lips curl into a
Soothing smile
I mimic him and look up
I feel him squeeze my hand
I look at him
Into his eyes
Into his intentions
Soon his mouth
Had found mine
My mind explodes into
A joyous dance
He kissed me
For the first time
My body sings his praise
As everything heightens
Because of his kiss
The Muse Jul 2010
His voice beckons to me
I reach out for him
Craving for his arms
His touch making me burn

The glow that I see
When I look in his eyes
Torments my lust
Heightens my desire

I close my eyes
To breathe in his scent
The aroma makes me alive
My senses aware

I want to hold him, touch him
Caress his hot skin
The passion to mold him
Burns deep from within

I want to use him, abuse him
Watch him work his way
The temptation to have him
Ignites me within

As I observe him dance
My heart sets ablaze
I yearn to watch his form
As he moves and he sways

My wanton need for him
Must be continually contained
The desire to burn things
Will be my downfall one day

Aching to feel the flames
Fire is my hot blooded lover
One strike of the match
And he burns like no other
Rochelle R Jan 2017
It's cold here, but it heightens her senses. The rustle of the wind in the fallen leaves and the crash of waves on a distant shore tell her she's at home. But this dream is a lie. There is a huntsman on her tail. His mark is untraceable. But to her it's undeniable. He is here. Silent, patient and resolved, her would-be captor knows her as his own reflection. She is aware of intentions, but also of his hesitation. So, in spite of being in his sights, she paces on. Steady, her gaze remains ahead. And though the ranks of cypress trees pass one by one, for what seems to be eternity, the search for her moon moves her on.
I have to believe there are several realities existing at once, on different planes. Or else, this one is cruel.
James Vereide Apr 2015
The week of labor comes to an end
Mind and body returning to:
A time-stretched lady friend

My voice meets your breathe on the line
I hear without asking:
Your needs in me, too worried to incline

Before I reach your door
Your smell is in me,
A rush of comfort, replaces me to a position before

I smile with greeting
Your embrace calms my heart:
From my impatient, uncontrolled beating

In your eyes I see our week
Talk rendered short,
Too much buzzing electricity to speak

Our bodies orbit brings us closer
Soft touches, smooth lips
I Move clothes aside for a kiss below your shoulder

The heat between us becomes as one
You exhale in my ear:
As if to say your water wheel is spun

My advances match your heart rate
Your hands run over
My tough, chiseled toned substrate

You take control of the bed
All senses:
Heightened, throbbing, aching, out of our head

I spoil you, tease you, and grab you
Taking you to another level,
I ask you to hold on, so you do

Your body is shaking, your muscles tighten
I grab your hips,
We sink deeper, your voice heightens

At last you let go, as do I
We spin, we crash,
We collide into a thousand little pieces from the sky

Your head lands on my chest
Our moment:
Has finally come to us, and now we can rest.
Will Griffiths Jan 2014
Darkness touches everything as if it's a blanket laid down to cover the world.
Fog has thickened the air and made distant lights struggle to be seen.
Coldness heightens my senses as the quiet and crisp air freezes all in sight.
This walk has surely brought calmness and peace to my weary soul.
Great trees scarcely seen amidst the haze tower above and daunt me.
Eyes of the forest watch my every move as I humbly dare to pass.
Yet one light shines down with more overwhelming power than the noon Sun.
A full moon has brightened the dark and punches through the fog.
Oh how I wish I could reach that untouchable, unknowable peace of distance.
My mind wanders for just a moment, it takes me away far from this chaos.
Looking down to a blue marble of Earth, absolute silence heard for a first time.
Breath trembles and heart flickers as my love for the serene is realized.
Tears fill my eyes and I quiver at the thought, I will never know this calm.
Awake now and reality brushes my wish aside, yet this darkness reminds me.
To know peace I must see trouble, without light I won't adore the dark.
Perhaps the world's beauty is enough for me yet, and life's chaos will surely bring me peace.
Maddie Feb 2013
A boy.
A boy,
Who's love I need to feel.
I'm not his girl
He's the love I long to steal.
His voice is the sweetest,
My ears have ever heard.
For him,
I'd do anything,
Say anything
I'd give him the world.

Even with my best intent
I let him slip,
Melting to sloppy wet drips
And flowing straight,
Through my fingertips.
Even when I tried to grab hold,
I grabbed, I jabbed, and pricked,
Still away he had surely slipped.

Oceans apart
However, close we are.
There's still a spark,
It magnifies every emotion
Heightens every notion
And through all the dark,
There is still a shrill
A deep, deep, shrill,
The life-giving *****,
Beats out of turn,
Even still.

I look into those deep dark vessels,
The Windows to your soul.
They search my flesh
They cry out,
Why?
Our future clear as sunniest of skies.
Though it's not a happy ending,
What a surprise.

Reality the way it always does
Creeps close.
It's wrong we know very well
in the heat of the moment, passion swells
We're both thinking stop,
But onward we march
Into this terribly beautiful yet tragic arch,
Of love and lust that cuts so deep.
Our brains know better, but our hearts,
They are weak.

Then it hits.
In that instant a vivid dream
Comes to me lucid and not quite serene.
Your lips dancing in time
With mine closely behind

Stop

You look at me and remember her.
I'm sorry I say "I loved you first"
"Love me" I scream
Without a sound.
The words pouring out silently
My wide and weary eyes
Say it all as they cry.
Kiss me again
To send me away so abruptly.
Would surely begin,
**My end.

— The End —