"igneous" poems
I want to be your abacus baby,Oh you can count on me.
I wont say that i love you, or i heart you, I less than 3 you.
Your molecules must be moving fast,girl. Cause your really hot.
Are you igneous sedimentary or metamorphic? All i know is baby you rock.
And if god existed I'd thank him for you, but I'm rational and read a lot of Sam Harris.
Your beautiful like the font garamad,but i want to see you sandarac, take your pants off.
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me,
And i observe your quirks oscillating, and I'm formulating, a g-string theory..
Like an archeologist,I'm gonna try and compute your age. cause i really want to date you.
You make me feel like a male giraffe. I want to nudge your **** and make you urinate,and mate you.
Scientific fact,thats what they do.
The value of my love for you cannot be expressed exactly. More rational then Pi.
Hey **** is a legitimate word in scrabble, just FYI
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me.
You can **** me into your super massive black hole, the center of your galaxy. Im talkin ******
I may not be the strongest or the prettiest, but my knowledge of grammar shines.
I know how to use the words further and farther..correctly. Every fricken time.
Example:farther indicates physical distance
and further a depth or degree
example: the moon is getting farther from the earth
about 4 centimeters annually. Fun factoid,take it home with ya.
You just keep getting further into my heart.
You just keep getting farther into my heart.
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me,and if the situation is ambiguous, further and farther can be used interchangeably. Just a fun factoid.
I want to be your abacus baby, you can count on me.
Baby i less than 3 you.
So please take off your pants.
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 7:14 PM UTC
We climbed from bedrock
to Idyllwild the home
of Pines to Palms
and Suicide Rocks
but not for us
only for those
poor tired souls
for whom the world's gone
flat
refusing
the night threw
itself boldly into the fray
of winds which blew
from storm to calm
so this morning we awoke
to a placid knap
slipping on snowy piste
to turn cold snaps
hot
spiced Nepali tea
sipped from ice
nipped cups
I see promise
picks up
from backward leaps
time forward flips
breaking free range igneous
into pan
piped sizzling
congenial song
that carries on the tree line
like spring
water sprung from
creeks to go scurrying off
with wet socks
until pulled up
by old school granite skies
hanging pools out to dry
in sopping blue rinsed sun
ahead any bald rocks
or hairline fractures
are long since dialled in
as baseless fears
knowing this mobile age
can merrily slip like air
through numb fingers
while baseline hands declare
“hold me close to gather”
edelweiss echoes gone
rappelling through time
the route we've chosen's
to be tied to each other's
peaks in the way of sun
and moon
come what may
be it creases in our skin
or crevasses
we'll win the battle to slim line
any overhanging ridges
so I take care to tighten
my girth hitch to top notch
and hold firmly
to both your conviction
and reach
that setting
out to move mountains
we call home
achieves more than
staying home
and calling mountains
so bright
you have me forget
all things too trite
banal office hype
shopworn old hat
mowing lawn weekends
too dishy to be clichéd
you polish off the stereotype
slam the Dior on out of shape
and dull as ditchwater tripe
keeping a victorious secret
or two in the slip knot
too tranquil shade
taking allure to new heights
we'll never drop
down from
tonight
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 11:03 AM UTC
Vivacious, atrocious
Super capricious
Precocious and ferocious
Precious and gracious
Malicious and facetious
Long lashes
Gory gashes
Fiery slashes
Tunic mashes
Souls igneous
In the end, it’s all ashes, just ashes...
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 2:26 AM UTC
I love you
I hate you
Addicted to the madness
Addicted to your bedroom
You're my cure, you're my cause
The one I hate, the one I love
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 7:52 PM UTC
At Summer Solstice, the Sun is far
distant from the celestial equator
and that day is the longest of the year.
From Khufu’s Great Pyramid at Giza
the scarlet Phoenix with the golden crest
swoops silent and low across the Delta.
Only half a millennium of life
before it passes to the flames of fire
and is reborn again from charred ashes.
This yang bird, fiery and blood cardinal
a solar flare blazing incandescent
pumps joy from the igneous heart of earth
erupts red hot energy volcanic
exciting and swirling the power of Qi.
Sun’s light and heat brings universal life,
and worshipped as Samash, Mithras and Ra,
Aztec God Tezcatlipoca,
Greek Helios, Phoebus and Apollo.
Now comes the agile Phoenix, sunset-stained
Broad-winged and gliding in the cloudless skies
Certain source of abundance and plenty
Plump-rich each berry, mango, peach, pear, plum.
Squeeze juicy sweet and succulent to taste
Summer full blown, mature and glorious.
© M.L.Emmett
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
Don't call me a volcano,
I don't want to be a volcano!
Sometimes active,
Mostly dormant,
A stiff peak with indigestion,
Birthing igneous isles
across the seas,
Starving for eruption,
Hardening.
Waiting.
Call me a hurricane,
Say it with a tremble.
Never expect me,
Dread my return.
Never dormant,
Always hungry,
Carving my path,
Landmass by landmass,
Conquering, Striding,
Devastating.
Get your facts straight
Before you call me a disaster.
Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 1:38 PM UTC
**Earth Day, April 22, 2017 "give back to Earth",
as an "offering" for all the planet gives us.**
For Global Earth Day information visit: http://www.earthday.org/
Her ominous shadow
shown a path
far beyond the miles high
a majestic mountain stood
Silently climbing down
million year old
steep canyon walls
at dawn,
each step chosen carefully
coursing with purpose
Finding a way forward
was the only way
to look back up
river carved ravines
where higher ground
once stood
Instincts drawn downward
gravity feed towards
the faint murmurs
deep echoes tracery
down sheer basalt cliffs
Artesian waters'
resounding gurgles ―
bubble up to quench
a lost soul’s incurably
intrinsic parching thirst;
to find an unfolding
metamorphic peace
in the trove of igneous
fountain veins of earth
There’s not need to wait
on sunrise pathways lit ―
there is no fear of gravity’s
downward silent weight
nor burden to be borne
Listening beyond dark silence .
igneous bedrock roots
beckon deeper expanse ;
spirit realms of ancient souls
whisperer like thunder
to the soul of man ―
Awakening ruptured lifelines
deep below earthen crust ,
creations hidden essence
eternally remembered
by the light above ...
April 2017 © harlon rivers ... all rights reserved
Apr 21, 2017
Apr 21, 2017 at 10:02 AM UTC
A melting igneous rock the size of a fist, he thought at first,
kind of red, faded a bit , resembles mud, somewhat,
something familiar, it reminded, then what, it could be?
melting ice, it now seemed, but blood oozes, or just paint?
Still he couldn't figure out what; then the shape,came to focus.
It struck him hard now "Öh! my God!" he felt like losing
his breath, how could one forget! heartless is this world!
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 8:52 AM UTC
In Parsley, a Levantine munificence accreted together in Tabbouleh,
herbage that covers fractured bedrock in a poultice of healing.
Secreted within, lie igneous outpourings of bloodied tomatoes,
those solid affections that had welled through an ocean floor
as Neptune quelled Gaia's contractions, her waters seeking to burst
beneath the wrinkled surface of a salty sea. She, an underbelly of sky,
pregnant in the overwhelm of magma, sweating out her heart in fire,
muted like a moon of Neptune, in his retrograde soliloquies, yet mirroring
hers in icy resurfacings of skin. The God of the Sea, boils an amnion
to hazy mists, how deep will his trident plunge to dislodge those Trojan ships
of deceptions ? Yet, Triton blows a conch for Gaia, not for man's duelling
and his warring tribes. He soothes her feverish gnashing of thighs
labouring continents. Some fires burn in water, like desultory heartbeats
moving the pace of rocks through the ocean floor, spiriting away
to stranger places still, marking maps of memories in the beauty of
a stillborn magma. The limestone they say is no blood relation to such
alien fructification, those oceanic intruders, bleeding still, spilling
secrets in reds and purples. The acid tears spilled in lemons merely
neutralised in syllables, sedimented to a community of limestone,
that possess no archaic remnants reminiscing through dead bones,
an age of glory. Now beauty lies in herbage over once raucous magma
and traces of a salty sea, freshness of life trailing her veins, in fragrance of Parsley
Jun 24, 2021
Jun 24, 2021 at 7:15 AM UTC
The morning cigarette,
With a cup of igneous coffee,
On an early winter morning,
Alleviates the morning high,
Like the smoke from molten lava.
The immature ride to the vacant highway,
The zephyr gust from the near mountains,
Touches the juvenile jacket
And through the quietus of nature,
The wings inside sails away.
The green undertone of cannabis,
It's a rational sensation,
With every roll the paper silhouettes,
Like a shotgun of peace,
The buds displace on the white face.
The rejuvenating smoke calibrates,
Through the dry pipes,
And layers the ravenous soul,
Like a honey bee,
Pouring the golden sugar,
Into the barren depth of an empty bowl.
Like a centaur with tenacious wings,
Accelerating with the air,
Feeling every loop of a fresh wound,
Riding from north,
And taking the fear out,
Like a first raindrop to hit the ground.
Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 2:21 AM UTC
Where Is Shelter?
depends on the location of the storm…
so oft have I queried the gods and you?
Where is Shelter?
*to which, my response, while surrounded so well (!)
within
my moated island circumferences redoubt,
always was a simple:
“Here, Here is shelter!
But so human, thus so prone to delimited vision,
always, we scan the skies outward, fearful of
the hurricane and storm that approach,
from without, appearing, and the brewing
sky’s danger is visceral~visible to the naked eyes,
when,
it is disguised within the chambers of the
body, festering, until it is pestering, and
shelter, sadly, is not injectable, transferable,
easy remedial, and the hunkering down
with four walls not the solution, for the walls
themselves are damaged by decades of
waves of innocuous gently lapping that* still
*erode igneous granite(1) and fissure the self,
this secretive, enemy insidious…*
so it comes to be, that my own daggers have
pivoted, the pointy dangers pointed outwards,
well entrenched in their own defenses, now targeting
the whole of me, my outer walls breached, and
fired upon by cannons of cells, a treacherous
attack, bombardement par l'artillerie et les drones,
of the Fifth Column (2)…
so once more, say no more, but ask the brief of demand,
Where is Shelter?
the answer is as of yet to be decided,
but the forces
arrayed for and against
are equally determined!
W.S.
Jul 29, 2023
Jul 29, 2023 at 3:30 PM UTC
a lone something in the sky
flies near, just by mischance
dazed by the smog,
bowing
and diving
downward
into the parting, cracking,
quaking
bellowing of tar
from the firy, sputtering lungs of these alps
eons worth of cries released in mere mouth-ajar gasps
of the earth diverging and converging
into the debt of always running clean,
running me
always downward,
as in the deep
deep
tessellations of rock
I become.
too still for my own good,
I guess –
another voice on the ash-flow tuffs of
breath to fill the mosaic
of sinewy
stripe-patterned goodbye and bygone
plating into the deep,
deep,
deeper caverns of the unseen sea
slipping off the mantle, an accident with intention,
as an echo caving downward into
nothing,
nothing,
more
nothing
polluting the depths from the palisades,
scripture rupturing lowshore into
surrounding tissues like
igneous stone
dreams of clinks ringing,
of noise
a voice
on the ash-flow tuffs
in the always running-clean water
the purity of which I intercept,
the clear-ness of it;
a sinners window.
through what's left,
I see the clam
another mouth for and of the sea
unseen,
the pearl
as unsoiled as ever
Nov 4, 2021
Nov 4, 2021 at 5:19 PM UTC
Can someone please trade me eyes?
It's unknown how they still have sight
Every since I was 6 the sense have witnessed gruesome events
Now my eyelids flicker past them very seldom
My lacrimal glands have trouble producing saline
I find it nearly impossible for beatitude to gleam from my eyes
And I cannot search for something that my eyes feel sorrow for
Let me at least borrow yours?
Please
So I can see how it feel to grieve
So that tears of joy can travel down my cheeks
I want humor to cause me to wink
I want my reflexes to cause me to blink
Pleeeeeeaaassseeee?
I stand there in the face of danger
When I should be aware
Instead I just stare
...
No glare
Just dispirited
The statical behavior that my eyes inherited
Suppress me from all charity
I'm begging you
No one looks me in my face and feels warmth and comfortability
All that they see is two white igneous rocks
When I wish that they can see marshmallows
That's why I need your help
The optometrist said there's nothing that he can do
That's why I'm coming to you
I just wanna be inspired by life
Can you show me how the world look again just for one day?
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 9:41 PM UTC
i
Off in the beaten path
An Echelon of secret tribal's;
I pirouetted with them in plumage
Mine queen showed up, just on arrival.
ii
Her timing was perfect
As tis she watched me caper;
Me and mine Reyna's amour'
Like tambourines, shook with ancient shaker's.
iii
Hot coal ember's
Igneous in ourn chest's;
Ourn pulmonary arterie's
Bracketed, by her tribesgirl dress.
iv
We were gladden
Betwixt the wilderness;
Under mango leaves
Jane seduced me, equatorial phene's.
v
Whilst the darkness wore down
And the tribesmen went to sleep;
Me and mine protector
In the dusk, disappeared, into eachother's soul's to keep.
©Brandon nagley
©Earl Jane dedication
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 3:22 PM UTC
An igneous rock, she took from the garden,
our rendezvous and presented as her heart to me.
It turned red at once and winked to my soul
in a cryptic primordial code, beams of light flash
telling our love had begun somewhere beyond time.
Distinct memory I have, it was glowing within the galaxy,
of billion silver stars, kept in the chest of immortality,
when we burned and burned to blend in each other's light,
"Come to me" beckoned her flame in intermittent pulses.
And I came to her in this garden, light years down,
we forget time, the spirit we are, living in elements ever,
matter and energy in an interchanging embrace, love in essence
to her "SHAKTHI" I am the "SHIVA, pervading in the cosmic vastness.
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 12:00 PM UTC
The kaleidoscopic view one perceives,
the material world (and its proclivities)
is the architecture of five senses,
along with the juggler, cognitive mind.
Beyond the shores of the river,
frothing, foaming, flowing mind,
sits the tiger, eyes glowing,
infinite, cosmic consciousness,
ready to eat every illusory construct,
liberate, self and proclaim
"There are no two, everything in cosmos is one"
The benevolent tiger watches the space,
we think real,
its eyes unblinking, waiting,
for the igneous moment of merging
sitting beyond the other shore of mind,
it wordlessly assert,"Time is imagined"
**Enlightenment, the door to
transcendence opens
only beyond the realm of time**
When the tiger leaps across
and makes its ****
the door to eternal light is opened,
The tiger is deaf to pleas and demands,
this hunter hunts preys of his choice,
at that moment of alchemy,
the tiger will appear from nowhere,
as savior, obliterator of illusions.
He enters through the door,
of silver morning light.
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 5:19 AM UTC
*Goddess of my Awakening dawn. Let me observe your illuminated skin, the divine and sacred scroll on which God wrote my mysteries.
Your golden follicles, the infinite world light receptors and creation, are the crowns on the letters of the Holy alphabet noted on your wonderful body.
Your nakedness is esoteric and when you gently Spending my eyes, revealest your sphinxes, angelic hieroglyphs are the notes in the score sung by Serafim.
Goddess of the dawn of my awakening. Your lips are the divine Edenic sources of heavenly delight. Your kisses are horseback riding chariot igneous creatures, souls sparks coming through my mouth to rest in my spirit. What could be more sacred than emerjantes kisses of your mouth? What could be more divine than your beauty and the light of your sensuality? Es, therefore, the object of my poetry, awakened in my mind the esoteric view of your magnificent *******
Goddess of my Awakening dawn, Princess Christed rof aurora of my soul. Kiss me and make me your scribe, the immortal annotator of your mystical sensuality.*
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 4:34 PM UTC
beneath
a very opinionated
garden of
brilliant
igneous rocks
devouring the shattered
seashells
of an all but forgotten past
each moment the soils are renewed
exuberant with light
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 9:31 PM UTC
Amain I want to maneuver
Onward into her incandescent
Cloak, as the igneous smoke
That arises. Mine eye's art
Tired and crying; as I just
Want one fragment of her
Skin to feeleth. O' as a man
For I'm weak, as an extra-
mundane being mine thought's
Come out faster then mine
Word's canst speak. I wilt
Continueth not in the flesh,
For the flesh burdeneth the
Soul; though in patience
And spirit, ourn long-
Suffering shalt be made
As the finest of gold. O'
Loveliest Jane, thought
Of mine thinking's, red
In mine brain, How the
Day's and night's art
Long, though I wilt
Still continueth in
Prayer, hymns
Song. Giving
Glory for what
I do hath. In happy or
Sad, good and bad; I'll always look ahead.
To the morrow wherein mine frown wilt be laughter and the roses I shalt giveth thee wilt be of rose loving scent. O' soon mine tear's shalt be dried, and mine phantom wilt no longer be in rent.
As I giveth gratitude to ourn Potter who maketh all thing's new,
Who bringeth water, with droplet dew, who maketh bird's hath nest's, and babies hath homes, in places of peacefulness. O' if the morrow doth for some reason not arrive; I'll send thee an engravement on mount Malindang, With the ring that never
Made it to thee; and mine kisses to spell thy name.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( pookie dedication)
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 9:40 PM UTC
we are two anarchists beckoning each other
with alluring eyes full of longing, so sticky-sweet.
caught in the trance of each other’s honeyed promises,
we embrace with the elegance of clashing armies.
come closer, let my wandering fingertips find
a home in stretches of taut skin, valleys
and crevices,
coy smiles, igneous eyes; can i entice
you to dance?
but where there was skin she finds only armor plates,
where there was vulnerability, only hardened resolve.
where our thorned bodies join crimson blossoms bloom:
flowers of anarchy flourishing in the eye of the hurricane,
the peculiar beauty of us.
we make the portrait of orderly discord.
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 3:20 PM UTC
Up I go tarred tower chamber, and molten bed
Scaling igneous shingles, hard lava my flight impossible
Crawling lofty ambitions in metallic heat resistant robe, slippers
Texting my last, "I love you"'s before kissing Pele's mouth
She is kindness and showers me in ashen snow
Welcomes with sulfured gas and acid rain intoxicants
Heady now, provocative bubbles glow, spit, reaching her tempting ****
Eyes pop, burst, char, sizzle, every nerve ending cauterized
Magnanimous one takes me, I evaporate in Aiiaka-noho-lani
Given to the Great Cloud Holder to be carried off
See my dreams fulfilled in droplets shimmering on rainbows
Touching down on sprouting new ground
Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 10:34 AM UTC
Blood red lava flow
Steaming water calcified
Metamorphosis
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 1:00 AM UTC
///
Look! My friend
It is true that
my existence will be graved after death-
you forget me,
as speed squander particle existence--
earth could not remember--
either it will be deformed
or dissolved---
Memory decays as rolling stone-
forget and fade
twinkle childhood,
as daffodils wither at evening---
Today's child
the father of tomorrow
Aye reminisces the past and decide the future,
today's peppy stream with its chime,
tomorrow's buried river-
only articulate history
Civilization, culture and fashion,
those are transfigured by time-
I see, truth has grown as a lie
as the sun rises in the west,
men have made the conversion to lie-
as politics become poly tricks-
Igneous to metamorphic rock,
by the process of nature with time-
the ultimate truth
From summer to winter,
winter to spring -
pouring--
Sweet sweat-
snowflakes-
cuckoo sings
season changeover and being--
But aftermath
my friend,
two things are still ******
untouched,
my love--
my soul--
the power of God----
///
@Musfiq us shaleheen
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 2:22 PM UTC
Between you and me,
Those lies have come crashing on
Reality,
Fake
Pretenses stripped off of
Our nakedness; look
At all the scars on our bodies.
****** flaws.
These tattoos I’d hidden from you. All conversations ever do,
Under the dissimulation of words
(I could laugh),
Lash out at us the acute lack
Of conversations. The absence
Of meanings, the shredded ruins of laughter, some very
Jagged melodies that cannot be
In-tuned into a single code, no no. Courtesies.
These
Courtesies have put up quite a show.
Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 12:42 AM UTC
this is not your typical cathedral
hurling damnation and touching you
this is the gristle of igneous rock
grinding your wings to an absolute stop
bad things have shadows that would rather fall
than never leap in the first place
this is hard to understand but i forgive you for keeping me alive....
this bright spot
that follows rabbits into new holes
churning the placid Samadhi
to favor the whirlwind
of a stillness
you are one of those things-
all impossible
between dreams.
handing me volcanoes
and ice screams
i'll just die if i live through this, i'll be one of those blithering kisses
affixed to scarecrows of dead laws !
i'll have the moon enslaved to vigils of contempt
to fibrillate the zombies in my Disneyland
but you will have to confiscate my happiness to spite your grace
Oct 9, 2011
Oct 9, 2011 at 11:48 AM UTC