"humaneness" poems
Falling angels
Black evil
Whispering taunting tantalizing
Teaching you dark secrets
Fallen angel (echo)
Fallen angel once flew high
Life of humaneness gone rotten
Humble equilibrium
Both darkness and light consumes them
falling angel (echo)
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 6:18 AM UTC
Sí. You do.
When You . . .
Pour me your 'cuppa'.
I taste your morning.
Text me your emoji.
I know your expression.
Spout out your wit.
I laugh out loud.
Show me what you see.
I behold your clear view.
Awash me in your color.
I'm ablazed by your vibrance.
Throw me your smile.
I throw one back.
Send me your music.
I feel your mood.
Choose your words deliberately.
I absorb your meaning.
Share your day.
I simply smile.
Take me with you.
I see your world.
Ask me to 'Please S'Plain.
I value your sweet inquiry.
Seek to understand.
I feel worth.
Kinda like our bubble.
I breathe more air.
Fall for the make-believe.
I fall for it too.
Just sayin the truth.
I admire your honesty.
Reply with warm understanding.
I adore your sweetness.
Share your insight.
I de-code.... reflect.
Breathe with inspiration.
I feel alive.
Send me your portrait.
I stop and stare.
Unveil your expressions in Face Time.
I'm drawn to touch the screen.
Show your sweet vulnerability.
I admire your courage.
Speak your true voice.
I know your choice.
Respond with Yeah! & Yah!
I feel your shine.
Feel like falling.
I hold you.
Share your fear and pain.
I help you to regain.
Tip toe with ambivalence.
I hesitate and wait.
Say 'What are we doing here?'
I doubt. I wait... I wait...
Take 1 step in, 1 step out.
I ponder poetry to pull you in.
Shuffle in and out of the room.
My heart rises and falls each time.
Promote healthy boundaries.
I respect them.
Throw me your x.
I feel your affection.
x softly and slowly
I smile and blush.
Risk your heart.
I trust (again).
Reveal your pure humaneness.
I endear to you.
Touch me.
I dissolve.
Brush my cheek.
My breath slows.
Kiss my chin.
My self opens.
Breathe me in.
I take you in.
Reveal your true presence.
I understand your existence.
Adore my presence in your life.
I adore your presence in my life.
(c2j2c)
ps.
C
Our fleeting moments in this bubble shimmer.
These subliminal and true moments we share.
I see hints of your presence and scribble them on paper.
These words of your essence exists with me in here.
J
Oct 7, 2012
Oct 7, 2012 at 1:00 PM UTC
You can experience it
Coming from most of
The writers around the
Block of Writers Block
Only to be saved by the
Bunch of Writers from
The Writers' Block.
They can call you names,
Ranging from A ******
To A Grammar ****
But don't be put off,
Don't be put out,
Just hold on.
Hold your ground.
You might have OCD,
The Obsessive Compulsive Disorder,
Don't worry - just channel it well.
Channel it well and play your tunes,
Don't worry about the runes,
They will be all covered with ink.
Yes, the electronic ink.
For all eternity, they say,
You can never achieve perfection,
And it should not concern you.
Just remember your wordlust,
Coin new and better words,
Just play your sweet lute.
Yes, you are so cute.
"What's so cataclysmic about the apostrophe?"
You asked me,
And legitimately so.
It's the difference 'tween us,
Perfection and poets,
Godliness and humaneness.
Divinity and profanity.
"Yes, perfection is sacrilege,"
I say, "Perfection is an ambition,"
"Of humanity and nature."
I take a deep breath before saying,
"In the knowledge available,"
"It's just a figment."
You ask me, "Where is it located?"
I say:
Find it 'fore some letters,
You can find it afta' some letters,
Lockin'n'poppin words together,
The apostrophe is so savoury & flexible
I just hope that I never become,
A Grammar Apostate -
I'll rather be ill instead.
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 12:51 PM UTC
Ever so silent in pain
Dour in death’s anguish
Called dumb by us men
To have their strength I wish.
Dumb yes without a remedial mean
No succor for them no medicine
In my backyard under open sky
These mute little fluffs quietly die.
I feel remorse a passing penitence
To have never been able to bridge the distance
Act in time for the help of a vat
Can’t count my humaneness, it’s just a poor cat.
Poor yes but with a strength underneath
To brace death the way they do
Uncomplaining till their last breath
Leaving me a lesson or two!
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 7:46 AM UTC
After the makeup—
The thick layers you insist on painting—
After the jewels
And the fashionable clothes
As well as your glossy hair,
After all that’s off
You know what’s left?
What’s left isn’t the pimples,
The dark circles
The limpness of your hair
The unkept, unruly appearance you hide.
What’s left is a perfect image
An image that means true beauty
I can see the clearness
The fragileness
The humaneness that is you
All I see is someone
That I don’t need to chase
And that I don’t need to glorify
Under false pretenses
y.k.
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 10:32 AM UTC
Obnoxious arguments; I rant only
My words, shard glass tearing souls
No exception is there, my wrath is equal upon all
Though for you, are the wounds mendable.
Excuse myself in rage, do I never
A barrage do I release, to free myself
Humaneness, my preach to oppose another
The hurt I inflict, is remembered by my own.
As your silence befalls me, my guilt grows
My thoughts erratic, not whole
What was spoken, can not be refunded
A friend, a foe; my acts deceive.
The loathe towards myself, my cell cast
Forgiveness a key, you grant.
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 11:51 AM UTC
No
There wasn't any
Heartbreak
There were
Not too many
Tears
I was surprised
I was astonished
I was feared
And loved
All at the same time
The crowd saw who
Was who and who
Was not
When the cards are down
And the eyes finally clear
Who is remembered
Is the thing
That matters most
We forget the ones
Who died in the trenches
Who were immolated from within
Who sounded but were never found
We forget the ones
Who died for this and
Who lost a limb for that and
Crippled their minds for them
Love stripped from their souls
Replaced by the dark horror
Of man's humaneness
Who are we to ask for such a sacrifice?
Who are we to send away the living for death?
Who are we to shake our heads in feigned understanding?
Who are we?
The dust will never settle
The sun will always rise
And fall
On the foggy eyes of war
And as the bayonets lay scattered,
Their bearers
Bearing no resemblance
To their former selves
And try
To
Hear
The echoing scream
The rippling shot
The cursed' crying corpses
Try to hear
The frankness
Of death.
Mar 25, 2012
Mar 25, 2012 at 6:25 AM UTC
I write again;
Writing, my blues,
Writing, my bleeding heart;
Writing, my bleeding faith.
I once was like everyone else,
A believer, an optimist;
Then, it hit me, it consumed me:
The truths and the reality.
Now I rot, my mind staring, blank;
My visions, shrouded with darkness.
My everything, painted pitch-black,
My humaneness, destroyed.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 12:32 AM UTC