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Papeya Jan 2018
Ignite yourself from the slumber of ambiguity.
Ignite your will to tread on the path of solitude unquestionably.
Ignite the fire within to realize your dreams.
Ignite the dashed hopes once lost in the fleeting moment of downfall.
Ignite your mind to free from the shackles of prejudice.
Ignite your heart to liberate from even an iota of infused malice.
Ignite your soul with compassion and sensitivity.
For, these are found nowadays only in rarity.
Unknown Gal Oct 2017
The Moon would like to let everyone know that it is done
It is sick and tired of chasing after Earth
No matter how beautiful it seems
  It always ends the race two steps behind
  But dear moon doesn't have the whole story
You see the Earth is also chasing after love
But it does not pine over our dear Moon
It hungers for the Sun
The last 4.5 billion years spent
In the sun's soothing lullaby
Its oozing radiation, and humming warmth
Butterflies flutter at its core
But ill-fated as all love story's are
There is no love left to return
You see,
The Earth's surface is a little too bumpy for the shining sunrise
Don't blame the sun it did not call upon this bewitching manner
The sun is not believed to be apart of this foolery
It is not in enchanted by the all powerful
It does not fall in love
Nor does it  spin for another
It stays in motion for no one
It is a humming ball of fire
Burning everything in its path
You tell me a good love story
I shall call you a fool
You label me pretty
I shall label me Sun
For just like it
I am my own sunrise
I can, shall, and will Ignite
Ignite my prince charming
Ignite all such fairy tales
I am not you're pretty princess
Puckered lips and giggled laughter
I am the queen who shall show no mercy
I will show you true meaning
Of fire
Of fear
Burned bodies turned to ash
Ignite my darling
Ignite
Posting this took a lot of courage from me and so I do really hope you enjoy it.
Benji James Sep 2018
Could it be
I've never seen
Beauty in me
Took time to reflect
On all that I am
I haven't shared everything I can
On this soul-searching road
The winds and turns
Each corner holds secrets
Each road taken holds challenges untold
Which road you choose is how life unfolds
Some are rougher, Sometimes it's smooth sailing
All the time I've invested in this world
I've come to realise
Each moment is just a piece strung together
In this story called life
I have no wisdom in my words
All I know is I've survived
Yeah, still alive.

Some would say I feel too much
Some would say, I'm too ******* myself
Mistakes I owned them
Haters I outgrow them
There's a whole lot in me
Only a few people see
A light that shines slightly through the cracks
I'm not all bad
And all this strength gathered
Has taken me to heights
Others couldn't imagine
Like a lighter, a little spark
Can ignite a torch
Revealing truths in dark corners
It's all these things
That makes me a lyrical philosopher
Through these lines I conquer

A man made up of scars
Each marks a tale
Each a reminder of lessons learned
I've been through the ringer
Still standing, And I'll still fight
Until my last breath drains all my might
No matter what the world throws my way
I'll always say...          
"Challenge accepted."
Never gave up
I still dream
I still fight my way
Through each day
No matter the odds stacked against me
I'm a raise my head accept the challenges met

Some would say I feel too much
Some would say, I'm too ******* myself
Mistakes I owned them
Haters I outgrow them
There's a whole lot in me
Only a few people see
A light that shines slightly through the cracks
I'm not all bad
And all this strength gathered
Has taken me to heights
Others couldn't imagine
Like a lighter, a little spark
Can ignite a torch
Revealing truths in dark corners
It's all these things
That makes me a lyrical philosopher
Through these lines I conquer

Nothing is going to hold me down
I'm going to dance like a warrior
All these bad habits couldn't be sorrier
All these battles I've won
Some left me scarred
But through this my skin became hard
Got a thick skin, Never cut through it
Got a good heart, shines through in my art
Belief only takes you so far
Have faith, it'll take you beyond the stars
They say wisdom can't be found in bars
In unlikely places, you can find yourself
And accept it is all you are
All that you've become
Water washes over me
Setting me free
All this dirt cleansed from me
You haven't even seen the best from me

Some would say I feel too much
Some would say, I'm too ******* myself
Mistakes I owned them
Haters I outgrow them
There's a whole lot in me
Only a few people see
A light that shines slightly through the cracks
I'm not all bad
And all this strength gathered
Has taken me to heights
Others couldn't imagine
Like a lighter, a little spark
Can ignite a torch
Revealing truths in dark corners
It's all these things
That makes me a lyrical philosopher
Through these lines I conquer.

Don't make me a role model
That I can never fulfil
All I wanna be is an Inspiration
Show people if they stick to it
They can make it
They won't fail if they fight tooth and nail
Revealing truths through poetic paragraphs
Silver linings rising, capture lightning in a bottle
Hard to contain, just striking in ways they don't expect
In life, you'll realise your blessed
If you take a deep look around
And all that surrounds us
Just shows that you can achieve
Be anything you want to be
And all I choose is to just be me
Open up your heart to see.

Some would say I feel too much
Some would say, I'm too ******* myself
Mistakes I owned them
Haters I outgrow them
There's a whole lot in me
Only a few people see
A light that shines slightly through the cracks
I'm not all bad
And all this strength gathered
Has taken me to heights
Others couldn't imagine
Like a lighter, a little spark
Can ignite a torch
Revealing truths in dark corners
It's all these things
That makes me a lyrical philosopher
Through these lines I conquer

©2018 Written By Benji James
Ann M Johnson Dec 2014
The embers are slowly burning out, the fire of faith has been growing dim. My mind is wandering toward some foolish whim.
I can hardly recognize, when the seeds of doubt , snuck in.
It is time for a spiritual awakening to begin.
My prayer, Dear Lord, is that you would ignite your fire in me .
Help me, to recognize, the plans you have for me.
Lord, ignite your fire, help me, to be a blessing to those around me.
Let your light shine, in me, may it shine brightly enough , for others to see you at work in me. It only takes but a spark and the fire can start  again.
Lord, ignite your fire.
Lord, I pray that your fire, will be anew in me, each day
I had some notes in a notebook, from back when I was depressed and doubting, and those notes were the beginnings  of this poem.
I felt that some of you might be able to relate to this poem.
Take my hand
Follow me
Let's waste away
Together

Let the music fill your head
Your soul
Ignite the fire
And let me burn for you

Gaze into my eyes
Let me fall for you
And make things better
Forevermore

The vinyl spins like I do
When our lips meet
Joining as one
Under the moonlit sky

I'll wait for you
For a chance
A moment to seize
To see your eyes glisten
Like the stars and beyond
Gazing into my soul
Where I ache for life

Let us adventure
Into the wilderness
A dark forest awaits us

The unknown beckons
Calling us to act
Discovering more than we know
And reassuring our minds

I see your thoughts
Not too fast,
You might trip and fall
But I'll be there to catch you
I hope you know

Open your heart to me
Let me hear you sing
The song of the ages
A beautiful voice

And when you fall
Deep into slumber
I'll wonder what you dream
As I hold you in my arms
And admire it all


-AJT
Styles Jun 2016
Love at first sight,
I love your frame.
My lust takes aim,
try with all my might,
to push your button like a game.
I use my tongue,
to twist a knot,
in your throat; like a rope.
I'm dope to your veins --
I ignite your flames
with a passion untamed;
hope to bare your passion fruit
peeling your flesh back
until you wear my body like a name.
sip'n' lick your juices until your drained
I knew you would come, and i'm glad your came.
i love when you scream, your roll your tongue in my name.
SøułSurvivør Sep 2015
---

i

blue grey clouds
of crushed
velvet

sunlight
tears
the
seams


ii

embers of
delicate peach
ignite flames
of fuchsia

the orb of
sun burns colors
away to ashes

blown into floes
of white
mare's
tails


iii

tiny bird
settles restless
on the
highest
branch

flits
away


iv

wind
through
the weathered stones
cries then whispers

luring
the children
who lie within our ribs
to break free
and sing
songs
of
play


v

mamalaria
cactus
wears her
wreath
of
pale
lavender
flowers

sings to
her babes
clustered
below

saguaro
listens



soulsurvivor
(C) 9/13/2015
beautiful day rises up
out of the ashes
of a flaming
sunrise

---

To a special friend...
... thank you!
agalwithwords Apr 2012
I don’t know what is this?
I know it is a bit selfish
All I want is to care for you
Without you everything is blue

I am trying to show how I feel
Putting them here as an appeal
Like a sea in the high tide
You ignite the poet inside

You keep on saying I get better for sure
But my heart wants only to be your
Can’t you see in the depth of my eyes?
They are true and it never denies

So many things that I want to say
In front of you my words shy away
That is why this rhyme is to preside
You ignite the poet inside

I don’t know what the future holds
I want to be with you as it unfolds
All I want is to be there for you
Thick or thin we will get through

No matter wherever you go
These lines will let you know
For you my heart has cried
You ignite the poet inside….
Saudia R Aug 2018
We sit in this room
across from one another
in silence

I try to look at everything
but you

I feel your eyes on me

I feel them roaming
as if your hands are on my body

how is that even possible

it's as if you're right beside me
grazing your fingers where they please

Your lips following their trail

lingering here and there
exploring every dip and hollow

The room feels so tight
this tension is something I can't explain
this silence so deep

I feel so restless
I want to burn something
break something
move

I chance a glance
and our eyes collide

****

what is this feeling
how can something feel so hot

I try to look away
but I'm frozen

I wait
But your eyes are still on mine

A silent challenge

You get up and leave the room

...

And I follow
Benji James May 2017
Still trying to figure you out
Not sure where your head
Is at right now
You take me by surprise every day
Maybe that how I fall in love with you
In all these different ways
I've been looking around
For just one girl
One who can brighten up my world
I've been looking high
I've been looking low
Where she is
I thought I'd never know

I can hear a voice
calling my name
Far in the distance
Can't show resistance
Need to go with this
All these emotions
Are shaking my soul
But if I don't go
I'll never know

Tell me, girl, can you see
I can love you beautifully
Tell me are we meant to be
(Can you feel it)
This chemistry
(Can you feel it)
Beating in your heart
(I can feel it)
Building up inside
(Ignite these butterflies)
Got you on my mind
Tell me can you see
I can love you beautifully

Show me all the things
You are hiding inside
If you're ready
I'm ready
for our two worlds to collide
Gotta know I'm always on your side
Through any hard times
Got your hand in mine
Gotta see I'm here
for the rest of our lives
Gotta see I'll hold you
Because this feels right

I can hear a voice
calling my name
Far in the distance
Can't show resistance
Need to go with this
All these emotions
Are shaking my soul
But if I don't go
I'll never know

Tell me, girl, can you see
I can love you beautifully
Tell me are we meant to be
(Can you feel it)
This chemistry
(Can you feel it)
Beating in your heart
(I can feel it)
Building up inside
(Ignite these butterflies)
Got you on my mind
Tell me can you see
I can love you beautifully

Girl hold on
We gotta stay strong
Keep you on your feet
That's the way it's gonna be
Because I need someone
who can stand by me
I've seen your strength
And your passion
And that's something I just got to have
And you got the kind of lips
I just want to lay there and kiss
From sunset to sunrise
Dawn till dusk
I could just do it that much
Think you're my fire in the dark
Won't let this burnout
We can make it I have no doubt

I can hear a voice
calling my name
Far in the distance
Can't show resistance
Need to go with this
All these emotions
Are shaking my soul
But if I don't go
I'll never know

Tell me, girl, can you see
I can love you beautifully
Tell me are we meant to be
(Can you feel it)
This chemistry
(Can you feel it)
Beating in your heart
(I can feel it)
Building up inside
(Ignite these butterflies)
Got you on my mind
Tell me can you see
I can love you beautifully

©2017 Written By Benji James
Hal Loyd Denton Apr 2013
Not funny but this was written on 4-15-12 exactly a year to the day


I re-post this for our last battel field Boston these words are nothing but as you read you will find the one who lives in them and He is everything all the comfort and hope we can ever want


Sorry if this seems at first confusing all my friends on facebook and Redbubble will get it right away as
I asked them to use their love and caring to pray for my hurting distraught friend at her time of great
Loss if you are hurting it will help to at least a degree or it will help at times of future loss

Well dear sweet precious Addy this brutal day is at an end I hope you sleep well I prayed for you and
Kathleen’s son way into the night at first I was terrified you weren’t going to get my post and you would
Enter as I told my wife you would enter the lion’s den the lions all have familiar names pain sorrow
Grief and many others and they maul with cruelty without pity I didn’t want either of you to take those
Fatal steps without your armor not to be to descriptive but reality waited with a blast I tried to diffuse the
Coffin the grave and headstone never could I do it immeasurably my fight for you could only be in the
Smallest victories comfort mined at times like these is like uranium white silver metallic with almost
A power that can’t be harnessed the same as loss of a love one what blow back again the same as a
Nuclear test one problem you don’t get the protection of a bunker no just suffer the blast in your
Body mind and heart you are stepping into the shoes the same as young woman who lost her father
That as she described him he was the light of her life our paths crossed on line when I thought she
Was a classmate’s wife her story of her dad touched me deeply I’m going to add that piece here plus
The comfort I tried to write for my friend that was more like my brother when his mother died I will
Include a small background so it wail make more sense let me add those here the first was Fathers story
What you read here is her hearts knowing and the undying love that it created and that continues.
His precious hands were removed from earthly things. A great and gentle man his greatest possessions his family. I only knew him from his business and the fact that one of his beautiful daughters married a classmate of mine. Then much later by error I made acquaintance with another of his daughters you can tell a lot about a person from the actions of his children. She told me that he passed away and that he was the light of her life. With God’s help I would like to pay tribute to him.
A light did shine it was magnified by the eyes of a daughters love. He took his journey he went above his ship was the care they shared he the captain made the course straight and true he didn’t slow her run until heaven was in plain view they would have cheered but it hard to see through eyes filled with tears. All the wonderful years seemed to be eclipsed by the sickness that came it seemed an angry wind from their lives this stalwart precious soul it did rend. It left the greatest empty hole it took the longest time to fill and then with the sweetest cooing the grand babies made the hole enlivened not the terrible twisted knot that had the family bound but without being able to speak a word grampaw was found. If you looked in their faces his smile is bound to bundles only heaven can design. I’m not saying they asked him how to work these miracles yet this is true he watched with intense interest and was happiest since his departure he knew that back through time and space healing was for all time secured. Their stoic acceptance could now be laid aside the family could run in softer climes know the sweetest of times that were thought to be forever gone.
Love spills down from heights distance is only on a map in peoples heart its no farther than the end of your finger tips. Images are so strong not because we have great minds it’s easy to make these rich finds when your love and its power shake the foundation of the universe is it not said that love is the greatest power. Oh how so many in dark shadows cower when they possess the power to ignite the world on fire. From heart to heart it does dart the wildness of the spirit is told blotting out all of the cold. Yes there is winter but also the spring. The light spoken of is no longer beholden to earth and so the family is free by love he joins his light to the Christ the all glowing light
Life force by haldenton
To all who have lost heroes
This was written to Eva’s son Bill to help him at her passing. With this writing I took him back thirty years when he was in the truck wreck that killed his dad his recovery saved his mother I hoped by him being reminded of that now it would help him the same way.
Tribute to Eva Wafford Life force
For all who lost heroes
In your soul freshly the wind of death did blow.
Cold eerie shadows marched against your tender broken heart.
What defense could this onslaught repel agony’s volcanic flow.
Ominous well filled with grief from this weight no relief.
The child the grim reaper did spare.
Only after leaving the body bruised and in despair.
From this broken body drops of mercy started to make the mother well.
I held your trembling frame today this memory rings sweet as a bell.
Streets and houses without number fill the land.
I can’t help when I look to recall memories grand.
Now they are but dreams that ache in the night.
Images that over ride the present in their glory I take flight.
Brush aside caution raise your voice as a trumpet.
They live only in yesterdays even so indelibly they wrote their stories.
We hold our children we cling only a moment as mist on the summit.
Your life Eva continues to build the next generation.
Your voice is heard in the breath of your grandchildren.
Wonders they spin from golden thread, now that you have gone ahead.
Your spirit glows in the fire that warms the house against winter.
Summer’s cool breeze not sent by chance she doe’s tenderly incite.
Death silently said what I already knew.
To me you were always immortal you were bigger than life
Many were the days when the wind of storms blew
those who know us feel the calm; this is only your life on review

One more
Simply Jim
Old Abe said it right ‘It is right and fitting that we speak these words here to honor these lives so honorably lived. I can say that about Jim and this also he was a prince among men if I do this right the words will convince you.
He had a gentle way and nature he spoke softly but a softness that flowed to you like ribbons that bounced in a little girl’s hair how delightful. He should have been a doctor his hands his mannerism was ideal for that job. I guess thats what made him stand out so strongly like a gentle calm breeze if you came in a panic his soul would float down around you like a parachute first it safely brings you from great anxiety and exaltation to a graceful landing then gently envelops you in its silken embrace. I had this privilege of watching him inter act with his wife as I said and truly he was a prince and I was the beggar that benefitted richly from the sidelines God knew my needs.
He was called from this life but all the days he filled before his home going are the sustaining force noticeably seen felt with keen awareness you know that a gentleman passed this way. In the lives left behind there is a blend of sadness and astonishment you realize you are looking at the work of a master workman who left behind a tightly and perfectly fitted family this unfortunately is sadly rare in this society that boast of its accomplishments.
As a friend his breadth and depth was sufficient you weren’t a burden he had a way of dispelling trouble making you understand with wisdom and unerring judgment then with ease you could extricate yourself from the problem. His heavenly father filled him with tenderness it stood him and others well in a somewhat crabby world. If you’re pressed and anxious about life take from this life expressed. A portion of the good will you need use it as a defense Jim couldn’t be everywhere but God saw fit to make an original that you can duplicate benefit from and be a part of his ongoing legacy. Thanks friend for a life lived well

Well hurting one in the earlier part of a writing I said I am God’s battle field reporter and medic
These writings are my bandages and gauze God gave me great big hands and I fill them with
Salve with all the love I know I gently apply it to your broken hurting wounds mingle it with
Tears that are not always mine alone but His mixes with mine one day He will abolish all tears
Until then this is our duty your heart we hear and we can do no other God bless you Addy and
Your nephew and all others who find this helpful

Mirrored Pool


Wonder for all the hurts

First I knelt just to see my reflection then the depths started to reveal first the flowing thoughts were
Restrained and then a bubbling seemed to dislodge from greater depths hard truths churned with
Violent twisting but the motion made it impossible to turn away there were great large white clouds
From depths then even above the pool they rose fourteen stories high the sensation was you were
Standing outside clear air intoxicating views the pulse of many were throbbing in your ears their
Thoughts and dreams were known and their sorrows were weights that pulled you from the heights
It was a colossal game of tag and you were it first reaction fear then the appearance of bundled gifts
Broke down the fear it was promise in different sizes that met the required needs it was like a divine
Warehouse had just made a delivery there were cards with names and writing gave clarification tears
And smiles intermingled then the outer knowing postulated the difficulty the puzzle an enormous
Streaming that was now congested and it was beginning a vortex all was understood now human thought
With doubts was pulling the answer into this destructive hole where was one to find the lever to stop
This action that would disallow was the answer to touch the water bring the finger to my lips possibly
A blazing thought would occur that would strike the mind no all that brought was words that had the
Letters jumbled they made no sense unless there is a special book that is alive in it the letters and words
Are already set but they cover every act in the human condition the broken can pour over the pages
You won’t find thorns to repel your efforts there are thorns but they will speak and assuage your hurts
At the most basic and needed levels the points of your hurts will begin to dissolve from your eyes to
Your mind this inward rush and power will dislodge even spears driven deep by enemies carried for
Years you searched in vain over sad and lonely paths and days now you journey is at an end thorns of
Suffering for another produces profound power and mercy go in peace beloved one another bears your
Burden now maybe words cut you at depths you can’t even identify what if there is an antidote in a
Book you pick it up with trembling hands your body tingles from the knowledge that this is ancient texts
It will have a revival of appreciation in this world of texting but with gentle fingers and eyes that glow
With respect as you see the wisdom and the love cannot be denied you leave the world you know and
With total abandonment you swim in this sea of words until the your tears spill on this rich world of
Words those cruel barbed words that pierced tender skin and have bled internally all of these years
Begin to dissolve with stories and accounts of betrayals then the swells love and mercy you read about
Restoration not always found after apologies are given but the teaching of forgiveness strikes a cord
You have been made free from your prison the tangles of life are great as a great black cloud it hangs
Over head many are its troubles this isn’t mild but the disruptive made to strike and pierce deep the
Hidden that steals the morning blessing while other feast your hunger and unrest only enlarges a
Tormenting unquenchable fire a slow burn this is a forest being burned at the thermal level the hidden
Roots a slow process destructive but not so visible agony torture I have seen men crawl in war or fire
Fighting that where all else is lost you will know greater thrills than any other living soul with the
Desperate and those heavy burdened unable to stand a word will flow it puts out fires and gives
The luxurious buoyancy heaviness changed to joy the bouncy laughter every outward blast attack
The enemy launches is within its pages they are repelled overwhelmed by love you suffer unduly
If you don’t hold this fortress this informative book of stratagems that have made everyone a victor
Who has ever found themselves at their wits end no place on earth has a contingency plan though it
Will make the greatest claims all is just empty air when life as it too often does ***** the very air of life
Out we practically are unconscious but this help this rescue is activated by one name it’s not just a book
But the word is a person what a pool you will find what a reflection will engage you beyond your hope
To imagine just say Jesus all will be total peace your heart will know no more sorrow peace will surpass
Sorrow love will disallow the specter that was once a constant it will disappear it will return to the
Darkness from which it came stand in this newness totally free abide by still waters as the good
Sheppard stands by bless you



Disgrace

This land void of devotion gone is the church steeples.
Replaced by voices and shadows of drug dealers on each corner.
Now they are the keepers, lost cities, death stalks its peoples.
Nothing is sacred in this polluted and diffused land.

No longer hallowed be thy name, it’s as if he never came.
Forgotten is any standard of moral excellence.
The once high ideals only represent a fool’s parlance.
Man declares I throw off these restraints only to find darker chains.

The book that once guided this great land.
We now betray with each waking day.
Our hearts and mind it did ignite, now it’s word we can’t stand.
Powerless and feeble we stumble, anxious ever moment.

Just to remember is not enough, best confess our pride.
Make sacrifice with our lips, to burn on altars on high.
There is a short season for all to make amends to regain our stride.
March on to glory with it burning on the inside.

You don’t have to be astute in business to see the sound investment.
Bring your poverty of spirit leave with the riches of his last testament.
It offers the greatest rate of exchange.
Light for darkness, life for death, selfless love for selfishness.


Streaks of Jefferson


In freedom’s blessed glorified sky through streaks of immortal gold his visage we behold
He looks upon the fields of liberty that he and the founding fathers sowed he sees the

Richness America has become he also beheld her struggles catastrophic wars abroad
And the most painful the one that divided the nation marred it with southern and northern

Blood saw the affable the sad giant Lincoln take the reins of discontent hold them by
Shear will and with uncommon sagacity guided it back in line to fulfill its destiny as the

Powerful fount that would always pour forth waters of freedom for all of earths peoples
Total unconditional acceptance of liberty and all the fruit it bears to establish a

Government like no other this golden grain has waved under bluest skies and brightest
Sun light its rich harvest has gone to darkest prison cells Mandela was sustained by it

For twenty nine years and by its moral purity it fed the lives of those that over threw
Apartied and Mandela finally freed by principals it avows rose from prison clothes

To wear the mantle of president of his country and the honor of the man instilled
Quality that transcended political office Jefferson not to be disrespectful to his progeny

Whispers today’s politicians could do well to look on this African model of good
Stewardship of public trust with that Jefferson faded back into the mist pray that’s
Not the fate of this country






--------------------------------------------------------------­------------------
Jay M Wong Feb 2013
1:1
Stop. Who’s there? Tis clock strikes twelve,
brings thy Horatio to seek tis specter from hell,
In Denmark, something is rotting in thy state,
In Norway, unimprovèd mettle hot and full awaits,
Tis specter arrives to arouse confusion and fear,
but to treat it violence and majestic threat,
thy specter departs as the ****’s crow drew near,  
leaving the blows of malicious mockery to regret.
And for Hamlet may speak to the wandering soul,
Tis morning to Hamlet must the three a’go.

1:2
Claudius, thy Uncle, is crowned King a’last,
Gertrude, thy Mother, hastily marries a’fast.
With duties done, Laertes to France adieu,
Hamlet griefs thy Father’s death and thy Mother’s dine,
for once a Hyperion to now a satyr is Uncle to Father a’new,
is but now a little more than kin and less than kind.
Horatio brings poor Hamlet the fatherly news,
that King Hamlet’s specter is now a’loose.
The joyous Hamlet is but joyous to see,
the two month father, dead and decease,
but for he calls that foul deeds will foully arise.
He hurries to the heavenly site prior sunrise.

1:3
Laertes to Ophelia, a brother to sister, he warns,
that Hamlet is but a fiery lover and to love he sworn,
but to love now is but not the future,
for Hamlet’s fire may, thy mind unpure,
for his lovely vows are not to believe,
he is but a man of deception to conceive.
For when Laertes departs, Polonius rants,
that Hamlet’s love, Ophelia must recant
for his affections and fashions are but false wows,
for when blood burns, lends the tongue false vows.

1:4
Shrewdly the air bites, nipping and eager,
at Horatio and Hamlet thy specter nears.
To speak alone, it beckons so,
But Horatio to Hamlet speaks no,
for may it draw thy madness and strip thy reason,
but to thee specter does Hamlet go,
for thy life is but a’lacking living reason.
Aback do they hold him most,
but Hamlet, his sword he wields
Fate has brought him here, he feels
To hold him back is but to turn a’ghost

1:5
Revenge, does his heavenly father speak,
of tis horrid ****** of unnatural feat.
For the orchard’s snake, wears thy father’s crown
and ****** thy gracious Queen, whose now evil abound.
With dignity and devotion she loved me so,
but tis sinful ******, Hamlet, you must’a know!
Through my ears, a venomous potion he drew,
thy fair Uncle, Claudius that potion he brew.
Abed, my life he ended this night,
And to my crown and Queen took he a’flight.
For thy dearest father, revenge must thy draw
upon thy villainous head, Claudius must fall
And to thy sword thou dearest friends must swear,
to tell not the occasions of this night we bear,
And to madness Hamlet must falsely seek,
to discover the truth of horrid deed beneath.

2:1
Reynaldo to Laertes, Claudius a’spies,
to Paris, Reynaldo goes with a’plan devised,
to seek the situation of Laertes in foreign hoods,
with bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth.
Ophelia then enters, with her father she shares,
"Oh, father, father, I’ve just had such a scare!"
In her sewing room, it is Hamlet she sees,
with no hat, nor buttons, nor stable knees
For he stared and stared to let out a final sigh,
Love mad he may be, a’to King we must a’by.

2:2
With Rosencrantz and Guildenstern,
Directly or indirectly will Claudius learn,
of Hamlet’s matters they are to return.
Polonius, with news of Hamlet, he waits,
for thee Ambassador, to inform that Denmark Gates,
Are to be opened for young Fortinbra’s ****** defeat,
Polonius to Claudius, reveals thy madness roots,
For Hamlet is but love crazy for the fairest fruits,
of dearest Ophelia, who a letter he wrote,
Proclaims the fairness of her upon tis note.
And to test the truth, their confrontation, must’e spy,
Behind the arras to view thy love-mad side.
Is but our hastily marriage and his father’s death,
thy Mother, aware, are but the means of his mad breath.
Polonius then to Hamlet, speaks of witty words,
A fishmonger he calls, but one of two is misheard,
For when Polonius humbly takes a’leave,
He is but to take anything, but his life, shall he not receive.
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, enter to Hamlet, they chat,
but Hamlet to quickly find the two are but a King’s ****,
Only sent to spy on a dearest friend,
And to human’s name do they offend,
Only to betray a dearest friend in honor of the King.
And so Players arrived at Denmark grounds,
for they, the best in the world, Polonius sounds.
And then for Jephthah, witty Hamlet chants,
the song of a foolish man who accidently grants,
the sacrifice of his beloved daughter.
Pyrrhus, do they perform for dearest Hamlet,
His sword is a’air, but a’air it sets,
for he hesitates to swing thy sword,
And with this, Hamlet hopes to store,
the strength to **** the horrid Lord.
Though he is but ashamed, for upon false emotions can Players act,
And in himself upon truths, strength can he not extract.
So a play for the King’s conscience does Hamlet devise,
for the heavenly ghost may be false in his advice.

3:1
To be or not to be; that is the question,
For Hamlet to be nobler or to a’take action,
Shall he withdraw with ****** self slaughter,
But shall’st never may see thy fairest daughter,
To die, but to sleep for a mere dream,
But in sleep shall fair or foul be unseen?
Now Polonius and Claudius awaits,
for Hamlet’s arranged meet with a’bait.
Hamlet to Ophelia, his love recants,
For honesty and beauty are but Someone’s grants,
Once did he love her, but now a’figured,
that women are but corrupt and impured,
For one’s honestly and beauty can and shall be taint,
For if God given thou one face, dear not another by paint.
For honestly and beauty has God falsely bred,
All but one, shall women *****.
All but one, shall women be nun.
Hence this marriage is over, and to a nunnery at once,

3:2
Let this mousetrap be named and this play a’set,
Shall capture thy horrid mouse or thy Uncle of Hamlet.
Polonius to Hamlet, the theater he knows,
For a Caesar death died he at thee Capitol.
Upon the lap of fair Ophelia, does Hamlet, lie,
Only to think of country matters and nothing (he implies).
And the play begins, with a prologue so brief,
Like a woman’s love, was Hamlet’s belief.
The King and Queen, a loving bond they share,
But the King by a mystic potion envenomed beware.
Thee action to ****, a murderous scene it was,
Leaving Claudius to regret the murderous act abuzz,
He arises to say: Let there be light! Let there be light!
And to the joy of Hamlet to see tis joyous sight,
For the words of thy heavenly father was but right.
Now shall the minute parts of truth ignite.
And to his Mother he shall speak daggers wield none,
for shall his tongue speak of the cruelties undone.

3:3
With Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, to England a’go,
Should insane Hamlet know not a hawk from a crow,
And behind the arras, Polonius will again spy,
the taxation of Hamlet and his Mother’s cry.
Polonius departs to spy upon the Mother and the Insane,
Only to leave Claudius to regret thy hideous Mark of Cain,
Shall he pray the Heavens to forgive him his actions,
For thy stripped thy Brother of life, throne, and attractions.
As Claudius is never to withdraw his stripped token,
Divine forgiveness shall never then be unspoken.
Hamlet can **** not his murderous Uncle in praying stance,
For a hideous monster shall not a’go Heaven by chance.

3:4
So behind the arras dearest Polonius stays,
to view the idle and wicked tongue arrays,
Thou’st the Queen, Thy Husband’s Brother’s wife!
But to hear a rat, shall Hamlet for a ducat its life.
Oh, but death ‘neath the arras, may it the King?
A horrid act? To **** and wear thy brother’s ring?
Oh, King it be not, but be a wretched, rash fool,
And now shall Hamlet tell thy Myth a’Ghoul.
For thy murderer has slain thy Heavenly mate,
And only now by natural law does he abate.
Upon these portraits shall ring a’clear,
That from thy Heavenly father is he nowhere near,
A murderer, a villain, a horrid fiend,
He is but a devilish murderer yield unclean,
No way can one drop from THIS to THAT,
And shall by this scene, the specterous soul attract,
Dear not be untenderly to thy Mother it speaks,
And shall this revenge soon awake its peak,
Hamlet appears a’mad to thy watching Mother,
but to his mother he warns, abed not another,
For two mouths should speak of none,
of this revenge that will soon be done.
And again, abed let not him ****** you so,
For now, apart to English must’e a’go.

4:1
Gertrude to Claudius, she continues to reveal,
Of Polonius’s ****** and his arras squeal,
"A rat! A rat!" A’mad Hamlet is,
Brandished, to rapier the life of his.
And now where’s thou Hamlet still?
To draw apart the body he hath killed.
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern is but yet called again,
With discord and dismay, are they to seek that thou slain.

4:2
The two seek to Hamlet, for the body’s lair,
Compounded with dust now does it wear,
And a sponge, does Hamlet call them so,
for the King to squeeze them dry and thorough,
"A knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear."
The body a’by a’King, but a’King, the body unnear.
And so, Hamlet to the King premiere.

4:3
And to Claudius does Hamlet call,
That Polonius now rests at a dining hall,
‘til a conference of worms devours him all
He shall eat not, but they eat so,
‘tis our fate despite status quo.
And upon the lobby stairs a corpse may lay,
One of dearest Polonius, slain to heaven or hell
Now to English death must Hamlet pay,
To one mother does he give two farewells.

4:4
With a Captain does Hamlet now proceed,
Who tells of young Fortinbras of Norway accede,
The Norway prince through Denmark he leads,
to seize a’minute ****** patch must’e receive.
A worthless land, must many die for one,
But true greatness acts not from fair reason,
But for the sake of the mind when honor is won.
And has Someone granted the reasoning mind,
For man to hesitate so cowardly inside,
For thy deed to act, must we rid the mind bind,
And act on instinct and be not wise.
And from the reasoning state must Hamlet now leave,
for honor he shall act, and his emotions he’ll believe.

4:5
False sanity is but false no more,
For fair Ophelia’s reason be not restore.
A’now sings of thy premature stone a’foot thy father’s grave,
and the departure of Hamlet for thy wed depraved.
Claudius is but to blame for thee rotting state,
For Polonius, a proper ceremony he not awaits,
For poor Ophelia, stripped from her reasonous state,
For Laertes aback from France, by thy father’s death, irate.
And Laertes enters, with thy support for king,
For the murderer, vengeful death shall he bring,
So Claudius to Laertes, says he is not to blame,
but thy father’s murderer is but another name.
And enters Ophelia, with figurative flowers to give,
But those of Faithfulness have ceased to live.
Alive are but for Thoughts, for Remembrance,
for Adultery, for Repentance, and for False Romance.
For his sister’s sanity is but another to blame,
Laertes, a vengeance mind, is but now aflame.

4:6
Horatio, a letter from Hamlet he receives,
that upon a Pirate ship has Hamlet board,
And that shall with speed would’st fly a’breathe.
Meet to hear the story Hamlet has a’stored.

4:7
Claudius to Laertes, he speak of innocence,
for by public appearance, the truth may bent,
For the public count loves Hamlet so,
And to thy fair Mother, Claudius a’beau.
Thy noble father lost and sister insane,
The murderous filth of Hamlet is to blame.
At this, a loyal messenger approaches,
to deliver the news that but Hamlet reproached,
An English death did Hamlet face not,
For now his destined death are they to plot,
Naked and alone, will he return to Denmark a’learn,
Of the honorable fence-match, he shall earn,
Against Laertes, whose fatherly love nor illusion,
Shall the death of Hamlet draw conclusion.
Even a’church will Hamlet, Laertes slay,
Death by no bounds, must Hamlet pay.
Envenomed rapier and wine shall prepare,
the faithful death of murderous Hamlet a’near.
Gertrude then enters with Ophelia’s news a’share,
For sorrows comes not in singles but in greater pairs,
Upon muddy death has Ophelia drowned,
for now another death has but profound,

5:1
Two Gravediggers upon one grave they create,
for to the death of thy Graveowner do they relate,
To die by self slaughter or to die by not,
the attention of passing Hamlet have they caught.
With Hamlet does one of thee two chat,
for once a woman, shall this grave be buried at,
A quick digger for Hamlet to his surprise,
Revealed that to England is mad Hamlet to advise.
For a corpse to live for eight or nine,
Thy dearest Yorick’s skull is to find,
Thy a corpse to date three and twenty,
Leaves Hamlet to recall thy memories a’plenty,
And to think Alexander, o’buried alike.
Here comes the King, Laertes and the Queen,
And upon the burial grounds is Ophelia seen,
His dearest sister does Laertes mourn,
But to Hamlet, her death, his heart a’torn.
Laertes to Hamlet, must’e not compare,
the death of one is a little more foul than fair,
For forty thousand brothers can sum not his love,
For the death of the fairest maiden beloved.
Claudius to Laertes, must Hamlet pay thy debt,
the plot of night prior shall’st not forget.

5:2
Hamlet to Horatio, does his truths trust,
Of thy wretched King and his unjust,
Of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern English death they meet,
With sacrifice and thy seal was thou to spare self defeat.
Now’st Osric enters to Hamlet a’chat,
For’st not hot, nor cold, nor sultry at.
And a’wish to court, with thy Laertes of excellence,
For Hamlet’s head does thee King expense.
With six French rapiers and poniards assign,
For by fate’s determination, shall this court incline,
For a special providence in the fall of a sparrow,
Can we do not, but abide by fate a’follow.
Trumpets and drums, now’st the fence begins,
For Hamlet and Laertes hand and hand therein.
Pardon he begs, Hamlet to thy brother,
For in him is but foil Hamlet yet another,
And so they fence for honor and fence for life,
Two of two leads Hamlet the strife.
The King, to Hamlet he drinks,
Tis pearl shall he the cup he sinks,
And unwounded for two, Hamlet prevails,
But Queen, the dearest Mother, so faithfully frail,
For she drinks thy cup of heavenly pearl,
For heavenly it be not, as thy malicious plot unfurl,
The cup! The cup! A poisonous potion,
Cause yet another by venomous commotion.
A distracting cause, for Hamlet to bear,
For Laertes envenomed blade must’e beware,
Now envenomed blood shall Hamlet shed,
Shall he hold thy rapier of Laertes instead,
to shed thy venomous blood of thy venomous mind,
For now thy murderous plot shall unwind,
At the honorable death of brother Laertes,
Shall the death of Claudius be a’seized.
The King’s to blame for the death of all,
And tis day shall he see his destined fall.
With thy venomous blade held a’hand,
Let the doors be locked and the evils banned,
For Hamlet wounds thy treacherous soul,
And shall horrid Claudius pay his destined toll,
For Hamlet forces to drink thy murderous potion,
And shall he too die of venomous commotion.
The death of four and tis ****** scene,
Shall Horatio tell to those unseen.
Shall he speak of murderous truths embark,
for Fortinbras shall now throne Denmark,
For in Fortinbras does his admiration lay,
For does Hamlet trust thou’st fiery ambitious way,
And tis now concludes thy Hamlet’s life,
For death and death thou’st all alike...
A dedication and summary of Shakespeare's "Hamlet" the tragedy of the witty prince of Denmark written in 2011 for a class journal assignment.
Melody Jun 2014
My name is Darkness.
I have a contract with light,
so I can be seen in corners and alleys.
I follow you because you follow the plight
and I will let you carry me, as long I can catch you.

My name is Evil,
I have a contract with good,
to add balance to your soul and
let you see my horns and many thorns.
I stalk you because you are one person, not a people.
I will let you hold my hand, as long as I can run ahead.

My name is Moon,
I have a contract with Sun,
because I need to ignite the night
and show you that I can shine just as bright.
I wake up because I like to watch you respite.
I will let you sleep as long as I can turn out your lights.

My name is not Darkness.
My name is not Evil.
My name is not Moon.

My name is Shadow.
I have a contract with light,
so I can be in corners and alleys.
I'm glued to one person, not a people.
I may have horns and I can have thorns.
I will hold your hand, and even let you run ahead.
I won't watch you fall, but I cannot catch you.
I will let you sleep as long as you keep on the light.

My name is not Darkness.
My name is not Evil.
My name is not Moon.
My name is Shadow.
I was born a stalker.
Please tell me what you think.

© 2014 Melody
nanda Dec 2017
let me explode
let me feel
let me be on hold
let me be at peace

i will remember you both
when the road turnd thin

i want to be free
        feel my hair in the wind
i want to be a bird of royalty
        see me fly, watch me go

keep quiet
even if you not

pray for me
i will come to you

i must walk my way
i must open the gates

some day it will be better
we will be together

behold
watch
glare

prescence and be part of

watch me be me
watch me IGNITE

leave something behind
        a part of your soul
learn to forgive
       apologize to all
say your prayers
       even if there's not
wait for the best
       hold you breath
make art, not war

ignite my power
be alright
in this dark world
watch me ignite
sometimes we need to ignite in order to be alive
King Panda Aug 2016
the tiles that encompass me
are falling like dominos
this is blackness at its zenith and
I have a coneful
lucky me
it’s like the summer of ‘96
all over again
and my friend’s dad jumped
in front of a coal train
we ate ice cream that day
in the dank Minnesotan heat
everyone was dripping
the mosquitoes were flocking in
green cloud
ignite
flame
ignite

and the crunch of bones
like this water falling on my shoulders
wash
wash
again

the sticky syrup from my chin and
poor Dane’s pants smell and there is
**** pooling at his ankles
enjoy this chocolate-dipped cone
or possibly this one with
patriotic sprinkles
no
I think I’ll pass
I’m watching my ten-year-old figure
you see this paunch?
it is my heart
it is so fat and ugly
take it from me, god
enjoy it on top of your
sundae
I always looked better red-chested
anyway
Moonlight Bliss May 2015
flesh to flesh
embrace me until
i come to life
ignite the veins
inside me
ablaze every dead
part of my body
hold me close when
i'm about to break out
comfort me
with your delicate touch
turn me into a rising daffodil
that will gleam
throughout the day
even if winter transcends me
Hal Loyd Denton Jun 2013
This time for Oklahoma



I re-post this for our last battel field Boston these words are nothing but as you read you will find the one who lives in them and He is everything all the comfort and hope we can ever want


Sorry if this seems at first confusing all my friends on facebook and Redbullble will get it right away as
I asked them to use their love and caring to pray for my hurting distraught friend at her time of great
Loss if you are hurting it will help to at least a degree or it will help at times of future loss

Well dear sweet precious Addy this brutal day is at an end I hope you sleep well I prayed for you and
Kathleen’s son way into the night at first I was terrified you weren’t going to get my post and you would
Enter as I told my wife you would enter the lion’s den the lions all have familiar names pain sorrow
Grief and many others and they maul with cruelty without pity I didn’t want ether of you to take those
Fatal steps without your armor not to be to descriptive but reality waited with a blast I tried to diffuse the
Coffin the grave and headstone never could I do it immeasurably my fight for you could only be in the
Smallest victories comfort mined at times like these is like uranium white silver metallic with almost
A power that can’t be harnessed the same as loss of a love one what blow back again the same as a
Nuclear test one problem you don’t get the protection of a bunker no just suffer the blast in your
Body mind and heart you are stepping in to the shoes the same as young woman who lost her father
That as she described him he was the light of her life our paths crossed on line when I thought she
Was a classmate’s wife her story of her dad touched me deeply I’m going to add that piece here plus
The comfort I tried to write for my friend that was more like my brother when his mother died I will
Include a small background so it wail make more since let me add those here the first was Fathers story
What you read here is her hearts knowing and the undying love that it created and that continues.
His precious hands were removed from earthly things. A great and gentle man his greatest possessions his family. I only knew him from his business and the fact that one of his beautiful daughters married a classmate of mine. Then much later by error I made acquaintance with another of his daughters you can tell a lot about a person from the actions of his children. She told me that he passed away and that he was the light of her life. With God’s help I would like to pay tribute to him.
A light did shine it was magnified by the eyes of a daughters love. He took his journey he went above his ship was the care they shared he the captain made the course straight and true he didn’t slow her run until heaven was in plain view they would have cheered but it hard to see through eyes filled with tears. All the wonderful years seemed to be eclipsed by the sickness that came it seemed an angry wind from their lives this stalwart precious soul it did rend. It left the greatest empty hole it took the longest time to fill and then with the sweetest cooing the grand babies made the hole enlivened not the terrible twisted knot that had the family bound but without being able to speak a word gram paw was found. If you looked in their faces his smile is bound to bundles only heaven can design. I’m not saying they asked him how to work these miracles yet this is true he watched with intense interest and was happiest since his departure he knew that back through time and space healing was for all time secured. Their stoic acceptance could now be laid aside the family could run in softer climes know the sweetest of times that were thought to be forever gone.
Love spills down from heights distance is only on a map in peoples heart its no farther than the end of your finger tips. Images are so strong not because we have great minds it’s easy to make these rich finds when your love and its power shake the foundation of the universe is it not said that love is the greatest power. Oh how so many in dark shadows cower when they possess the power to ignite the world on fire. From heart to heart it does dart the wildness of the spirit is told blotting out all of the cold. Yes there is winter but also the spring. The light spoken of is no longer beholden to earth and so the family is free by love he joins his light to the Christ the all glowing light
Life force by haldenton
To all who have lost heroes
This was written to Eva’s son Bill to help him at her passing. With this writing I took him back thirty years when he was in the truck wreck that killed his dad his recovery saved his mother I hoped by him being reminded of that now it would help him the same way.
Tribute to Eva Wafford Life force
For all who lost heroes
In your soul freshly the wind of death did blow.
Cold eerie shadows marched against your tender broken heart.
What defense could this onslaught repel agony’s volcanic flow.
Ominous well filled with grief from this weight no relief.
The child the grim reaper did spare.
Only after leaving the body bruised and in despair.
From this broken body drops of mercy started to make the mother well.
I held your trembling frame today this memory rings sweet as a bell.
Streets and houses without number fill the land.
I can’t help when I look to recall memories grand.
Now they are but dreams that ache in the night.
Images that over ride the present in their glory I take flight.
Brush aside caution raise your voice as a trumpet.
They live only in yesterdays even so indelibly they wrote their stories.
We hold our children we cling only a moment as mist on the summit.
Your life Eva continues to build the next generation.
Your voice is heard in the breath of your grandchildren.
Wonders they spin from golden thread, now that you have gone ahead.
Your spirit glows in the fire that warms the house against winter.
Summer’s cool breeze not sent by chance she doe’s tenderly incite.
Death silently said what I already knew.
To me you were always immortal you were bigger than life
Many were the days when the wind of storms blew
those who know us feel the calm; this is only your life on review

One more
Simply Jim
Old Abe said it right ‘It is right and fitting that we speak these words here to honor these lives so honorably lived. I can say that about Jim and this also he was a prince among men if I do this right the words will convince you.
He had a gentle way and nature he spoke softly but a softness that flowed to you like ribbons that bounced in a little girl’s hair how delightful. He should have been a doctor his hands his mannerism was ideal for that job. I guess thats what made him stand out so strongly like a gentle calm breeze if you came in a panic his soul would float down around you like a parachute first it safely brings you from great anxiety and exaltation to a graceful landing then gently envelops you in its silken embrace. I had this privilege of watching him inter act with his wife as I said and truly he was a prince and I was the beggar that benefitted richly from the sidelines God knew my needs.
He was called from this life but all the days he filled before his home going are the sustaining force noticeably seen felt with keen awareness you know that a gentleman passed this way. In the lives left behind there is a blend of sadness and astonishment you realize you are looking at the work of a master workman who left behind a tightly and perfectly fitted family this unfortunately is sadly rare in this society that boast of its accomplishments.
As a friend his breadth and depth was sufficient you weren’t a burden he had a way of dispelling trouble making you understand with wisdom and unerring judgment then with ease you could extricate yourself from the problem. His heavenly father filled him with tenderness it stood him and others well in a somewhat crabby world. If you’re pressed and anxious about life take from this life expressed. A portion of the good will you need use it as a defense Jim couldn’t be everywhere but God saw fit to make an original that you can duplicate benefit from and be a part of his ongoing legacy. Thanks friend for a life lived well

Well hurting one in the earlier part of a writing I said I am God’s battle field reporter and medic
These writings are my bandages and gauze God gave me great big hands and I fill them with
Salve with all the love I know I gently apply it to your broken hurting wounds mingle it with
Tears that are not always mine alone but His mixes with mine one day He will abolish all tears
Until then this is our duty your heart we hear and we can do no other God bless you Addy and
Your nephew and all others who find this helpful

Mirrored Pool


Wonder for all the hurts

First I knelt just to see my reflection then the depths started to reveal first the flowing thoughts were
Restrained and then a bubbling seemed to dislodge from greater depths hard truths churned with
Violent twisting but the motion made it impossible to turn away there were great large white clouds
From depths then even above the pool they rose fourteen stories high the sensation was you were
Standing outside clear air intoxicating views the pulse of many were throbbing in your ears their
Thoughts and dreams were known and their sorrows were weights that pulled you from the heights
It was a colossal game of tag and you were it first reaction fear then the appearance of bundled gifts
Broke down the fear it was promise in different sizes that met the required needs it was like a divine
Warehouse had just made a delivery there were cards with names and writing gave clarification tears
And smiles intermingled then the outer knowing postulated the difficulty the puzzle an enormous
Streaming that was now congested and it was beginning a vortex all was understood now human thought
With doubts was pulling the answer into this destructive hole where was one to find the lever to stop
This action that would disallow was the answer to touch the water bring the finger to my lips possibly
A blazing thought would occur that would strike the mind no all that brought was words that had the
Letters jumbled they made no sense unless there is a special book that is alive in it the letters and words
Are already set but they cover every act in the human condition the broken can pour over the pages
You won’t find thorns to repel your efforts there are thorns but they will speak and assuage your hurts
At the most basic and needed levels the points of your hurts will begin to dissolve from your eyes to
Your mind this inward rush and power will dislodge even spears driven deep by enemies carried for
Years you searched in vain over sad and lonely paths and days now you journey is at an end thorns of
Suffering for another produces profound power and mercy go in peace beloved one another bears your
Burden now maybe words cut you at depths you can’t even identify what if there is an antidote in a
Book you pick it up with trembling hands your body tingles from the knowledge that this is ancient texts
It will have a revival of appreciation in this world of texting but with gentle fingers and eyes that glow
With respect as you see the wisdom and the love cannot be denied you leave the world you know and
With total abandonment you swim in this sea of words until the your tears spill on this rich world of
Words those cruel barbed words that pierced tender skin and have bled internally all of these years
Begin to dissolve with stories and accounts of betrayals then the swells love and mercy you read about
Restoration not always found after apologies are given but the teaching of forgiveness strikes a cord
You have been made free from your prison the tangles of life are great as a great black cloud it hangs
Over head many are its troubles this isn’t mild but the disruptive made to strike and pierce deep the
Hidden that steals the morning blessing while other feast your hunger and unrest only enlarges a
Tormenting unquenchable fire a slow burn this is a forest being burned at the thermal level the hidden
Roots a slow process destructive but not so visible agony torture I have seen men crawl in war or fire
Fighting that where all else is lost you will know greater thrills than any other living soul with the
Desperate and those heavy burdened unable to stand a word will flow it puts out fires and gives
The luxurious buoyancy heaviness changed to joy the bouncy laughter every outward blast attack
The enemy launches is within its pages they are repelled overwhelmed by love you suffer unduly
If you don’t hold this fortress this informative book of stratagems that have made everyone a victor
Who has ever found themselves at their wits end no place on earth has a contingency plan though it
Will make the greatest claims all is just empty air when life as it too often does ***** the very air of life
Out we practically are unconscious but this help this rescue is activated by one name it’s not just a book
But the word is a person what a pool you will find what a reflection will engage you beyond your hope
To imagine just say Jesus all will be total peace your heart will know no more sorrow peace will surpass
Sorrow love will disallow the specter that was once a constant it will disappear it will return to the
Darkness from which it came stand in this newness totally free abide by still waters as the good
Sheppard stands by bless you



Disgrace

This land void of devotion gone is the church steeples.
Replaced by voices and shadows of drug dealers on each corner.
Now they are the keepers, lost cities, death stalks its peoples.
Nothing is sacred in this polluted and diffused land.

No longer hallowed be thy name, it’s as if he never came.
Forgotten is any standard of moral excellence.
The once high ideals only represent a fool’s parlance.
Man declares I throw off these restraints only to find darker chains.

The book that once guided this great land.
We now betray with each waking day.
Our hearts and mind it did ignite, now it’s word we can’t stand.
Powerless and feeble we stumble, anxious ever moment.

Just to remember is not enough, best confess our pride.
Make sacrifice with our lips, to burn on altars on high.
There is a short season for all to make amends to regain our stride.
March on to glory with it burning on the inside.

You don’t have to be astute in business to see the sound investment.
Bring your poverty of spirit leave with the riches of his last testament.
It offers the greatest rate of exchange.
Light for darkness, life for death, selfless love for selfishness.


Streaks of Jefferson


In freedom’s blessed glorified sky through streaks of immortal gold his visage we behold
He looks upon the fields of liberty that he and the founding fathers sowed he sees the

Richness America has become he also beheld her struggles catastrophic wars abroad
And the most painful the one that divided the nation marred it with southern and northern

Blood saw the affable the sad giant Lincoln take the reins of discontent hold them by
Shear will and with uncommon sagacity guided it back in line to fulfill its destiny as the

Powerful fount that would always pour forth waters of freedom for all of earths peoples
Total unconditional acceptance of liberty and all the fruit it bears to establish a

Government like no other this golden grain has waved under bluest skies and brightest
Sun light its rich harvest has gone to darkest prison cells Mandela was sustained by it

For twenty nine years and by its moral purity it fed the lives of those that over threw
Apartied and Mandela finally freed by principals it avows rose from prison clothes

To wear the mantle of president of his country and the honor of the man instilled
Quality that transcended political office Jefferson not to be disrespectful to his progeny

Whispers today’s politicians could do well to look on this African model of good
Stewardship of public trust with that Jefferson faded back into the mist pray that’s
Not the fate of this country
Emily Nov 2018
I always thought we were the perfect match.
But matches are meant
                                   to ignite
                                         and burn out.
There's twenty five million people in the city tonight
They each breathe fire, like flames they ignite
They're a city of saints, they're monsters, they're warriors born to fight
Although diverse, their hearts beat in time to the city of lights
Yasmine Jul 2014
Pouring rain and thunder clouds
Roiling over and shooting lightning
Racing hearts as chaos pounds
Your feel and touch intoxicating
Crackling power and moving lips
Pressing hard and we're pulling closer
Yearning bodies and sliding hips
High off you I'm an overdoser
Electric eyes and wicked grin
You know I can't resist this sin
Our burning skin and heated blood
Power and passion come in floods
Set me to Fire upon your gaze
Live in paradise for all my days
Breathe me to Life with your lips
Heart dancing and doing flips
Turn me to Infinite with your love
To be eternal with worlds above
So kiss me hard while it pouring rains
Just how I like to be
Electric euphoria in my veins
Baby,
Ignite Me
Inspiration from passion
I'm wandering in the nightfall
after sunsets, free your mind
gently relax your soul
equals a mixture of calmness

Southern honey
ignite your emotions
chasing ghosts from the past
equals a twisted mixture

I'm wandering in the nightfall
after sunset free your mind
gently relax your soul
equals a mixture of calmness

I need you
ignite your emotions
rearrange your future
after sunset free your mind

Southern honey
southern honey
I need you
I need you

fire and compassion
chasing ghosts from the past
equal a twisted mixture
How long can this last?

After sunset free your mind
After sunset free your mind
After sunset free your mind
After sunset free your mind

I'm wandering in the nightfall
waiting for your call
chasing ghosts from the past
How long can this last
after sunset,,,,,,,
Poetic T Oct 2019
He was the child with the magnifying glass that lingered
in the exhalation of the heavens. Always holding it on
those of weaker statue than himself. Insects were his
starting point, as they were barbecued under the influence
of what was focused between light and glass and what
lived became inanimate just a blackened smear that he
smothered words into the dirt
        
                           I'LL BURN THE WORLD,

His parents saw this and in jest laughed it off as the
Immaturity of a child's frustration. That all was but a
a boy finding his place within the many echoes of manhood.
A child was maturing, and they assumed that he was not
ready for the collision of what was in-between the moments
of childhood and adulthood.

One cold and sodden night where the only things that were dry.
Were submerged in the cover of roofs and foliage.
But even the penetrating raindrops gathered in haste to soak
the earth beneath the leaves protection. All drowned within
nights flourish of immersed air. Where it felt that breath was only
in-between the flurry of h20's deluge.

Within the house, within the rooms crept a silence.
            It wasn't alone, for it wept unseen streams between the  
crisp white borderlines,  were doused in clear liquids,
Draping the curtains in non received  heavy remorse,
the only things that were burdensome were the drapes as the weight of the liquid pulled at the seams holding them aloft.

Remorse was neither felt or given. just a feeling of accomplishment.  
Felt it in the moments that succeeded between this
gathering of dead lights as a flame was lit.
But not a whisper was echoed this flame was lifeless
in the eyes of its beneficiary.
But it lept upon the walls like a ballerina, gentle,
and dancing within the confides of its given dance.

He stood in the hallway the flashback was unexpected,
but he still stood there gazing and the beauty of something
given with such frailty that a breath could extinguish
its potential. His parents had no idea, they were slumbering
within the confines of blankets that entombed the warmth.
Clasping hand even in sleep love was a subconscious yearning.
The thing with these old houses some had decretive metal over
the wind bars in beauty crafted to keep things out.


But this was his plan, what cant get in cant get out.
He'd gone in there room and stole the key.
He took a last glance, and said,
             "I Love You
,Before sealing them within. The flames were silent like
a stalker watching waiting, till the inevitable conclusion.

As things started to burn more passionately, caressing every
thing it was touching. So the smoke started to thicken like
A heavy smog it got into places the fire had not reached.
Moans could be heard, then screams at the realisation of
what was happening. He Could hear them, he could see them.
For even though a teenager he was intuitively cunning,
tinkering with everything and anything.

And small cameras were dotted around the house,
looking listening to everything that was seen and spoken.
It had come to fruition due to one such thing he had heard
being discussed by his parents.

"I saw him in the woods,

                 "Doing what darling?

"He didn't see me but the neighbours cat,
                                  "you know soot,

"What did he do, nothing bad!

                "He tied it up,
"Then threw what I thought was water on it,
                  I thought it was nasty but then!!!  

"Then what, your scaring me,

"He lit a cigarette, I didn't even know he smoked,
  "Then he discarded the match,

       "
The cat, oh my god the cat,

"
But he recorded its screams, he recorded it dying,

"
I couldn't move I was so angry, so humiliated,
        "
I wanted to throttle him there and then,

"
But ill phone the police tomorrow,
                  "He's not right, who would do that,

How dare they think that I can just be fobbed off,
         discarded.

                                             I was making music,
the screams were a delicate symphony,
            acoustics that's couldn't be reproduced.
It had to be from the source.

That laid, the plans for what now enveloped that house,
recording every noise, every scream. But what he needed
was for them to burn, to release the music he needed to
hear to complete his work. And they like parents gave it
there all, he had goose bumps as he heard there terror.
his eyes welled up, not in regret but the beauty that his
parent last words were given to him, so personal was this
moment that he'd never forget it.
                                                        
                                                                ­          "Thank Mum & Dad,

After this he released a mix tape, that could be only
conceived from an artist, in the womb of excellence.
That's the reviews he had, it brought shudders to your
heart and mind. It was if your humanity was crying out to it.

As so forth and more were sewn in the adulation of his work.

Now he needed to make more music, but he needed more
screams to make his next piece two were not enough..

So he wandered the night, dressed in unclean wear
so not to be confused with who, or what he was..
He hung around the homeless parts of town,
plastic sheeting for roofs.. and combustible bedding.
It was as if he'd planned himself. but he had to be smart.
for this was if ill planned he would have a needle in his
arm within the year. But he took his time tiny cameras
recording visually and sound.

He had gathered the combustible elements needed to
make this a orchestra of his needing, not a duet like before.
He didn't down play his past offering, but this would make
an album of despair and monument to the flame.

It had been raining, but only lightly as he needed some
dampness in the air on there sheets cardboard mattresses.
So not to raise suspicion on the dampness of there homes.

As they moved away from the embers of barrel fires,
yes he'd thought about that. Not every home was a
crematorium a cardboard and plastic coffin of there
choosing. He waited clasping his hands together breathing
on them as it was cold night. He liked to watch, a voguer
of sort, but his wasn't the fantasy of death it was to hear the
music that was about to be sung with smoke filled lungs.

He'd set up a unique but rudimentary way to light the fire,
a small gas hob with liquid within. it needed to be a certain
temperature ignite, he had tried it before in a field out west.
Deserted he'd made a mock up of this humble place.
And he wasn't mistaken it was fascinating, the flame spread
like the wind enveloping everything but, it was a dull for even
though the flames wept of everything, its tears turning all to
ash..

It was silent, deafening, he cried for a while, there should never
be censorship of the flame, for what is a log fire without the cracking of its inner self being consumed. This was just smoke
and regret. But he now looked down at the camp, his watch
counting down the precious moments.
                                                             He whispered.
                                              

                                                  "Thankyou,
­
And then like a super nova the darkness was ingulfed in
the aurora of flame, gliding over the ground as if a stream
of conscious reckoning. Those near by the civilians that were
                        across the street were transfixed.
As screams embellished the flames, this was my orchestra
of light and noise. Those across the street were either screaming
or videoing the scene.
I looked at them and wondered where there humanity
had gone to, as to film this moment rather than to rush in
and save the few that they could.

I watched as the engines came, extinguishing my masterpiece
choosing the night was always preferable to the day as flames
dance better when there is less light to contaminate there beauty.

My music, I had become quite the remixer, of vocal and rhythmic
sounds.
                               Within a week I had mad nine new songs.

I named them each as deserved, making them in memory of
those who perished that dreadful night.
            It was well received, a few thought it was a haunting
melody of humanity's struggle, while a few thought it was
over ambitious, and lacked the passion of my first piece.

All together it went down well, and the adulation of the
flame was kept, to honour that which gives as much as
takes the breath of life away.
A year had past and the door rang, it was an officer.

                 "Could you come to the station please,

Had I become the victim of my own success, had someone
broke down the acoustics of my music and realised what
they were?? So many thoughts went through the calm
exterior of my persona. But inside the flame dimmed,
had I lit the last candle. I was taken in to a room,
and questioned evasive not to the point but gathering
speed to the answer, where were you on the
                                                             ­       30th April 2019.

Alabi's were a fantastic thing to plan ahead, I had laced
my date with sleeping tablets to leave her in perpetual
slumber. And got back before she awoke, we made love
we were the flame and the wick.. and our sweat was the wax dripping from our form. The next week I dumped her.

They asked if I recognised a picture, blurry and ill framed
but I could make out the figure was me. No sir I don't why.
This person of interest is wearing your jacket, your logo!
I smiled and was truthful to a degree.
                                                             Planning is everything.

I threw maybe fifty into the crowd when I did a concert
in the city, when we drove past some homeless persons.
We donated what was left to them, do you realise how
cold these streets are, who am I to steal warmth away.
I don't wear my own merchandise what do you think I
am egotistical, no I wanted to help those who I could
have been if not for my music. I lost my parents I know
what its like to be alone.

I think the show went well, as I was released before
reporters even got a sniff. But I knew that my time
was a wick trying to keep the flame lit but dying out
anyway. I had made preparations for this time.

I had brought a club only for gigs, cheesy as hell but
had that 80's disco vibe the entire floor was light up.
But I had brought  the ingredients for thermite,
amazing what you learn in school and the internet.
But I never used mine different libraries in different
cities so not raise suspicion. I  invited the music critics
and others which I had personally disproved of.
its was going to be free drinks and themed 80's night.

Who can not want free drinks, well I wasn't going to be
disappointed 90% came, how lucky the few.
Phones were confiscated, no video, but more
importantly no phone calls to the outside world.
I told them at the end of the night that I was realising
a new song, they were like vultures to flesh.
As the night progressed some wanted to leave,
but we offered them the VIP section also lit flooring.

Now was the time, I had put heating elements under the floor
to ignite the thermite. A supernova of heat even though brief
would ignite the choir of harmony needed. I asked them,
                                                           ­ "Are you ready,

And then silence, I put on my welding glasses,
                                                        ­         I wasn't stupid.
Never look into the heart of the flame unless you want
to be blinded by its beauty.
I pressed a button and it was magnificent, it was like a tide of sunlight, they tried to scramble but all exits were locked.
It was like the wizard of Oz, and the witch I'm meltinggggg..
But this wasn't a fairy tale.. The adulation I had for these
chosen few. What excitement the others had missed.

I'd made my booth flame and smoke proof, I had my own
walkway but I knew that this was the last time I could pay
homage to the flame. As the screams died down.
The wicks smouldered and the floor looked more like a battle
field of  WWII. I began I knew I didn't have a lot of time.
But this was just a single I'd already got the backing music
ready. And as I worked away, I could hear the banging on
the reinforced doors. They gave me a breather to get my
work fulfilled.

I heard the doors start to give way but no matter
I'd only needed this time to tweak the music.
Given I'd started this over an hour ago, it was good
on my part for this not to be broadcast till I saw fit.
As the police burst through, gazing at the flaming
effigies that lied before them, some threw up, gross..

While others saw me smiling I pressed the button and
my new song was word wide.. its was called the critics
tried to burn me down. The response was gratifying.
Likes reached the hundreds of thousands in mere minutes.
Well it was only three minutes twenty five seconds long.
As they shoot at the booth I wiggled my finger at them.
I do like to plan ahead but dam was that loud against the
glass. Got to be said some had wicked aim, made me flinch
a few times.

But alas all things come to an end, I uploaded my videos
of what I had done. I was proud of my contribution to
my legacy and empowering others with my music.
As I looked down at the puddle, I tap danced in it for
a moment and then lit the lighter, I looked a them
and once again waved, I was like a funeral pyre.
A crematorium of silence and then I was gone.
                                                I didn't scream,
I was in her embrace and had done her proud.
Sarah Kersey Oct 2016
It's the slow beginning of the burning of a torch before the Olympic ceremony commences
Instead of the 200 meter sprint or who can do the butterfly in the least amount of seconds, we measure the diligence of our players
It's like having a world record book full of seemingly average accomplishments that feel like the biggest struggle of all of eternity
We are the gladiators of the apparently normal, often not knowing how to show our love for others because we are so distracted by finding one last bit of strength to carry us through the finish line
And yet we are here
Gaining medals for the simple pleasures such as going a day at college without missing our pets back home
And it's nothing extraordinary
But it's something
We are seeing a faint spark of light in all the new blank, dark and unfamiliar canvas that is our new territory
And the future stands before us in the shadows
Waiting for us to find the determination to ignite our torches
Cné Apr 2017
He soars high, floating in her wake
Inhaling every detail of her flowing grace
Her brushes of touch, causing him to shake
Delicate weaving hearts of leather and lace

Inspiration sails high, with her drifting in his mind
Ripples from deep emotions, she elegantly paints
Closing his eyes, entrusting her, flying blind
Together, one with the other, interlinking chains

Flickering fates of fireflies under stars aligned
Precious moments in time, worlds collide
A rendezvous in the Milky Way, by design
Consummating souls kiss passionately, ignite
to be ...
da Vinci's "Mona Lisa"
Vermeer's "Girl with the Pearl Earring"
or "The Girl from Ipanema"
only in my dreams ...
Joseph Valle Aug 2012
Make candles dance
they love to, just ask them.
It’s no hard task to make them,
which makes making them,
no longer making them.
They gleefully step on the floor,
hum tune, whistle even,
into the wee hours of morning
performing breathtaking displays
of charisma and elegance
and eventually
their light shines no more.
Wax has wandered
away in search of better form.
They decide,
you, for them, that is,
that extinguishing is the ultimate.


Burn out,
well, burned,
so they
may
ignite again.
J Drake Jan 2015
Faith. Hope. Love.
I don't have answers. I don't really know much.
But I know that those things ignite something in your heart, casting away the darkness of fear and regret.

When the cobwebs in the basement are cleared, you find all your old dreams hidden in corners you forgot about.

And when you pound your fist in the dirt, and say enough is enough... I'm not here to survive, I'm here to LIVE... to laugh and play and realize my deepest passions... to find the ocean of joy and invite everyone I know to swim in it with me. To love myself daringly; to dance with the darkness of my fears and invite their lessons in.

Something doesn't have to change. Everything has to change.
I'm not interested in being right anymore.
I'm interested in being ALIVE.

When you commit these things to yourself, and fight for love, for hope, for the adventure of really living all the way... something happens.

Something flips inside you, and heaven begins pounding at your door.

Life has always waited patiently on you to stop waiting patiently.

Adventure isn't around the corner. It's hiding underneath your heart.

Right here. Right now.
The beating of my heart... measured into words. Happy New Year. Contact me at awakenedimagination@gmail.com to share your feelings on my work. :)
Natasha Teller Sep 2014
I.

this room tastes like a storm on the sea:
salt crashes in waves
against the soft shore of my lips,
hot like thunder, hard as hail.

drenched, desperate, drowning,
fingers palm-deep in wet earth,
you infuse my blood with lightning,
fill my lungs with water,
pull me under--

a death knell floods our ears,
a furious cradle of waves;
our eyes shut, lashes silvered with rain,
mouths crushed, sharing one last breath,
electricity still humming at my core,
our bodies making
last promises

II.

the current lifts us to the surface;
we clasp each other and pray to the old gods
ignite us, belyse oss, strike us, ignite--

the sky yellows over us
and we taste petroleum on our tongues
and we dig in with fingers and limbs
we absorb each other, we hold--

your eyes are blue as the water
when the wind rips you from me--

ignite us ignite us

lightning breaks the tempest--

bathed in gasoline, we become
two flames in the sea,
inextinguishable.
edits later; it's 2 a.m.
Run your fingers through me like silk
Let the cracked, fragile walls down
Like the vulture spying the ravaged ground
Pick my bones cleaned until all I’m left with
Is a beating heart telling me to run, to glide, to walk, to crawl
Away from all your convictions
The problem is I have craved another like myself
For so long
and I believe that is what you are
Keep my secrets like I keep yours
Let’s share a cigarette and **** ourselves even more
In the war torn, ravaged, copper tinged ground
that line the inside of my numb skull
a flower grows in the rubble
A tulip, pink and elegant, off setting the broken reality
I want you to break through me
like the flower does the ground
and let me see all of your beauty
So I may find peace in the ever burning fires
that ignite my soul
Benji James Sep 2018
Don’t stress
Your pretty little head
No need to pull out your hair
In frustration
It’s all gonna be okay
Not telling you not to rage
Don’t sweat
The mascara
Beneath your eyes
Keep those eyes dry
Not telling you
that you shouldn’t cry
Just ensuring you
It’s all gonna be alright

Need a hand
Here hold mine tight
Need an ear, I’m here
Let out all your frustrations
That are weighing you down
In your emotions
Won’t let you drown
There is always a way out
Tell me all the nightmares
That keep you awake at night
Let me take them out of your mind
Demons hunted me down
But I cast them out
Listen my little queen
You just gotta take some time to see
Look deep inside and realise
You can beat these challenges
Laid before your feet
I’ve got faith more than belief
Open your eyes real wide
Let your heart be your guide
Instinct won’t steer you wrong
You’ve got power deep within
Let it out to fly
Fill the world with pure light

Don’t stress
Your pretty little head
No need to pull out your hair
In frustration
It’s all gonna be okay
Not telling you not to rage
Don’t sweat
The mascara
Beneath your eyes
Keep those eyes dry
Not telling you
that you shouldn’t cry
Just ensuring you
It’s all gonna be alright

You’ve written songs in the dark
Been bruised, been scarred
Still beautiful, still art
Can’t take away all these lessons learned
The fires in your eyes
Come on girl
Ignite those stars
Make them shine bright
Encrypted in twilight skies
Memories etched into your mind
A smile begins to take place
Rosie cheeks light your face
Hair sways slowly in the wind
Such a pretty picture
Captured in a frame
Deep inside she pushes down her pain

Don’t stress
Your pretty little head
No need to pull out your hair
In frustration
It’s all gonna be okay
Not telling you not to rage
Don’t sweat
The mascara
Beneath your eyes
Keep those eyes dry
Not telling you
that you shouldn’t cry
Just ensuring you
It’s all gonna be alright

I see beyond your lit up eyes
Deep inside you want to cry
Hurt yourself, leave scars
Now you are marked on the outside
From the frustrations and hurt
Breaking apart your insides
It’s tearing up your heart
Eating at your conscience
Why is it you always feel responsible,
When it’s not your fault
All the damage caused
even those mistakes
Aren’t yours to bare
To ******* yourself
Your feelings you wish to share
Trust in people was hard to find
Locked in your room
Pillow tight
Till sleep you cried

Don’t stress
Your pretty little head
No need to pull out your hair
In frustration
It’s all gonna be okay
Not telling you not to rage
Don’t sweat
The mascara
Beneath your eyes
Keep those eyes dry
Not telling you
that you shouldn’t cry
Just ensuring you
It’s all gonna be alright

You grow a little more everyday
Take a step, take a breath
Just breathe, easy angel
You’ll see this world
It’s yours for the taking
Even with all these shattered parts
You can still mend the heart
Even scars fade with time
Need to learn to capture the thrill
On this roller coaster life
Take a look back
See how far it is you’ve come
All these races you have run
Each mountain peak climbed
Come so far, got a long way to go
Take a moment to enjoy the ride
Doing so well it all gets better with time
Beautiful girl with the adventurous heart
She has a new road to start
Take a look back at the trails blazed
Then to your future you can make your way.

Don’t stress
Your pretty little head
No need to pull out your hair
In frustration
It’s all gonna be okay
Not telling you not to rage
Don’t sweat
The mascara
Beneath your eyes
Keep those eyes dry
Not telling you
that you shouldn’t cry
Just ensuring you
It’s all gonna be alright

©2018 Written By Benji James
Cné Aug 2017
A tentative touch unsure
of erotica I've yet to explore.
Her sweet ripe ******* allure
my watering mouth can't ignore.

Tickling teasing touch to ignite us
giggling on our high
Soft soothing caresses in between
wondering why I was so shy...

Our fingers tangled in long blonde hair,
then gently stroking soft warm skin.
Bodies writhing, legs entwining,
where she ends, there I begin.

Oblivious to our thoughts
enambered with desires
Lips of wine in heated passion
soaring pleasures even higher.

Perfumed oil on bodies glistening,
**** laughs and playful fights.
Lace and heels and toys aplenty,
Girl, we'll make this last all night.

By EJ and Cné
A little wine
A little laugh
A little pleasure
For our own behalf

Thank you EJ for such inspiration
https://hellopoetry.com/elizabeth-j-1/
Julian Mar 2019
Tantalized by the fractious limerence of a vestigial habiliment of the old order, we conclude that hypertrophy leads to a limbo where random permutations alloyed by the rickety limits of concatenation subsume concepts that are equivocal but populate the imaginations of newfangled art forms that jostle the midwives of rumination to lead to unique pastures that are intuitively calibrated to correspond to definitive unitary events in conceptual space that sprawl unexpectedly towards the desultory but determinative conclusion of a meandering ludic sphere of rambunctious sentiments cobbled together to either rivet the captive audience or annoy the peevish criticaster when they dare to inseminate the canvassed and corrugated tract of intellectual territory created ad hoc to swelter the imagination with audacious ingenuity that is an inevitable byproduct of lexical hypertrophy. In this séance with the immaterial realm of concept rather than the predictable clockwork reductivism of a perceptual welter that is limited by the concretism circumscribed by spatiotemporal stricture we find that an extravagant twinge of even the smallest tocsin in the interstitial carousel of conscientious subroutines compounding recursively to pinprick the cossetted smolder of potentiality rather than extravagate into the vacancy of untenanted nullibiety can spawn a progeny of utilities and vehicles for dexterous abstraction that poach the exotic concepts we fathom by degrees of sapience malingering in lifeless bricolages of erratic abstraction in manners useful to transcend the repose of abeyance and heave awakening into the slumberous caverns of still-life to make them dynamically animated to capture ephemeral events that defy the demarcations of wistful indelicacy of the encumbered bulk of insufficient precision.

Today we embark on a quest to defile the anoegenetic recapitulation of canon that litters the dilapidated avenues of miserly contemplation that has a histeriological certainty and feeds the engines that enable novelty but ultimately remain rancid with the stench of the idiosyncratic shibboleths of synoptic alloyed impoverishment that leads to the vast wasteland of cremated entropy that is a stained foible of misappropriated context interpolated usefully as botched triage for daunting problems that require a nimble legerdemain of facile versatility that we easily adduce to conquer the present with the botched memorial of a defunct salience. Despite the travail of scholars to retreat from the frontier into the hypostatized hegemony of recycled credentialed information, we often are ensnared by the solemn attrition of decay as we traverse the conceptual underpinnings of all bedrock thought only to dangle precariously near the void of lapsed sentience because of transitory incontinence that is contiguous to the doldrums of crudity but nevertheless with mustered mettle we purport that the very self-serious awakening to our hobbling limitations is akin to a prosthetic enhancement of ratiocination capable of feats that stagger beneath the lowest level of subtext to elevate the highest superordinate categorization into heightened scrutiny that burgeons metacognitive limber. Marooned in the equipoise of specifiable enlightenment countermanded by the strictures of working memory we can orchestrate transverse pathways between the elemental quiddity of impetuous meaning and the dignified tropes of transitivity that bequeaths entire universes with feral progeny that modulate their ecosystems with both a taste of approximated symmetry and a cohesive enterprise for productivity that rests on the granular concordance of the highest plane to the indivisible parcels of atomic meaning that solder together to exist as intelligible if strained by the primordial frictions guaranteed by the brunt of motion incipient because of the metaphorical inertia created within insular universes to inform sprawling conurbations of mobilized thoughts designed to reckon with the breakneck pace of the corresponding reality to which they explicitly and precisely refer to.

We must singe surgically the filigrees that amount to the perceptible realities that transmute temperaments into the liturgy of routine conflated with the rigmarole of neural dragnets of reiterative quips in an elegant game of raillery with our supernal contumacy against the rigid authority of aleatory vagaries mandated by a dually arbitrary universe in a probabilistic terpsichorean dance with the depth of our dredge for subliminal acuity or the shallow bellicosity of common modes of glib contemplation characteristic of the basic nobility of improvisation. This basic interface with the world can either be mercurial or tranquil based on the interactionism of the enfeebled trudge of surface senses or blunt intuitions and the smoldering impact of the vestigial cloaks that deal gingerly with the poignant subtext evoked in the cauldron of immediacy rather than pondered with the portentous weight of imperative singularities of uniqueness derived from the plunge into the arcane citadel of microscopic introspection so refined that the ineffable drives we seek to fathom become amenable to the traipse of transcendental time that rarefies itself by defying the brunt of compartmentalized bureaucracies administered by the fulcrum of stereotypical notions of acquired gravitas imputed to mundane pedestrian quidnunc concerns that defile humanity rather than embolden the subaudition of gritty punctilios that show the supernal powers of the axiomatic divinity of sharpened sentience to reign with supremacy over the baser ignoble components of bletcherous nescience that leads to knee-**** platitudes that provoke folksy peevish divisions. We should rather orchestrate our activity by heeding the admonishment about the primogeniture of poignant sabotage buffered by the remonstration of innate tranquility and finding a whipsawed compromise of rationalization with true visceral encounters with the fulgurant quips of brisk emotions that grind industriously into amorphous retinues of the trenchant human imagination to either equip or hobble the leapfrogged interrogation of veracity and more consequently our notions of truth and fact.

When we see the hackneyed results of default ecological dynamics, we find ourselves aloof from purported transcendence because the whimpered bleats and cavils of the importunate masses result in a deafening din of cacophony because we strive throbbing with sprightliness towards the galloped chase of tantalization without the luxury of a terminus for satiation. Obviously a growth mindset is the galvanic ****** that spawns the imaginative swank of the pliable modulations of our perceived reality that, when protean, showcase the limitless verve of our primordial cacoethes for epigenetic evolution rather than the stolid and staid foreclosure of impervious sloth that memorializes the gluttony of speculation about fixed entities rather than imperative jostling urbanity that dignifies the brackish dance with dearth and the exuberant savory taste of momentary excess because it engages the animated pursuit of limerence rather than the exhumed corpse of wistful regret. Nature is a cyclical clockwork system of predatory instinct met with the clemency of the prosperous providence enacted by the travailing ingenuity of successive cumulative generativities that compounded unevenly and unpredictably to predicate a fundamental zeitgeist calculated to engorge the fattened resources of the resourceful and temper the etiolated dreams of the fringed acquiescence of a hulking prejudiced population of dutiful servants that balk at the diminutive prospects of a lopsided distribution of talent and means but slumber in irenic resolve created by the merciful hands of defensive designs that configure consciousness to relish comparative touchstones rather than absolute outcomes that straggle beyond a point of enviable reference to shield the world of the barbarism of botched laments clamoring for an uncertain grave from the gravity of the orbiting satellites of apportioned wealth both sunblind and boorish but simultaneously inextricable from the acclimated fortune of heaped nepotism and herculean opportunism. The intransigence of the weighted destiny of inequity is a squalid enterprise of primeval abrasive and combative tendencies within the bailiwick of the indignant compass inherent to the system that fathoms its deficiencies with crabwise and gingerly pause but airs a sheepish grievance like a bleat of self-exculpation but simultaneously an arraignment of fundamental attribution erroneously indicted without the selfsame reflexiveness characteristic of a transcendent being with other recourses to clamber an avenue to Broadway without malingering in the slums of opprobrious ineffectual remonstration against the arrangement of a blinkered metropolis of uneven gentrification.

We flicker sometimes between the strategic drivel of appeasement and the candor of audacious imprecation of the culprits of indignity or considerate nutritive encomium of the beacons of ameliorated enlightenment because we often masquerade a half-witted glib consciousness lazily sketched by the welters of verve alloyed with the rancid distaste of squalor and slumber on the faculty of conscientious swivels of prudential expeditions with an avarice for bountiful considered thought and wily contortions of demeanor that issue the affirmative traction of adaptive endeavor to cheat a warped system for a reconciled peace and a refined self-mastery. We need to traduce the urchins that sting the system with pangs of opprobrious ballyhoo and the effluvia of foofaraw that contaminate with pettifoggery and small-minded blather the arenas better suited for the gladiatorial combat of cockalorums tinged with a dose of intellectual effrontery beyond the span of dogmatism rather than the hackneyed platitudes that infest the news cycle with folksy backwardation catered to the fascism of a checkered established press that urges insurrection while tranquilizing dissent against the furtive actions of consequence hidden behind the draped verdure of pretense whose byproduct is only a self-referential sophistry that swarms like an intractable itch to devolve the spectator into a pasquinaded spectacle of profound human obtuseness that pervades malignantly the system of debate until the reductionists outwit themselves with the empty prevarication of circular logic that deliberately misfires to miss the target of true importance because of the pandered black hole easily evaded by creatures of high sentience but inevitably ensnaring the special kind of dupe into a cycle of bellicose ferocity of internecine balkanization. The vainglory of the omphalos of entertainment is also another reckoning because it festers a cultural mythos of glorified crapulence parading a philandered promiscuity with half-baked antics that gravitate attention and the lecheries of gaudy tenses of recycled tinsel alloyed by debased aberrations of seedy grapholagnia that magnetize as they percolate because of the insidious catchphrases embedded in pedestrian syncopation that ignite retention and acclimate to mediocrity the sounds of generations discolored by faint pasty rainbows rather than ennobled by majestic landscapes of ignipotent mellifluous sound that stands a supernal amusement still for the resourceful trainspotter.

Despite the contumely aimed in the direction of contrarians for deviating from the lockstep clockwork hustle of stooped pandered manipulation that peddles the wares of an entirely counterfeit reality, I stand obstinately against the melliferous stupefaction of entire genres of myth and subcultures huddled around the sentimental tug of factitious sophistries regaled by thick amorphous apostates that cherish the vacuous sidetracked spotlight with fervor rather than pausing on the enigmatic querulous inquisition about the penumbras that lurk with strained effort beneath or above the categorical nescience of the shadowy unknown that often coruscates with elegance even in obscurity. I fight with labored words to spawn a psychological discipline that invokes the incisive subaudition of the pluckily pricked exorcism of true insight from the husk of buzzwords that constellate auxiliary tangential distractions from the art form of psychological discernment that predicates itself on the concept that the rarefaction of rumination by degrees of microscopic precision enables the introspective hindsight of conscious events that can be parsed without the acrimony of cluttered conflations of the granular prowess of triumphant ratiocination that earns a panoramic perch with the added luxury of perspicacious insight into the atomic structure of the rudiments of our phenomenological field and the abstractions that linger beyond perceptual categorization. When we analyze the gradients of anger, for example, we can either be ****** into a brooded twinge of wistful resentment or we can decipher that through heuristics designed to cloister the provenance of subconscious repose with ignorance there exists a regimented array of tangential accessories embedded deep within the cavernous repository of memory that designates a cumulative trace of compounded symmetries of concordant experience immediately perceptible because of the tangible provocateur of our gripes and the largely subliminal tusk that protrudes because of primal instinct that squirms with peevishness because of the momentary context preceded by the desultory churn of smoldering associations swimming with either complete intangible sputtered mobility through the tract of subconscious hyperspace or rigidly fixated by an arraignment of circumstances with propinquity to the deep unfathomed flicker of bygones receding or protruding because of the warped and largely unpredictable rigmarole of constellated spreading activation.  
When we examine the largesse of the swift recourse of convenience we forget by degrees the travail that once bridged the span of experience from patient abeyance in provident pursuit to now the importunate glare of inflated expectations for immediacy that stings the whole enterprise of societal dynamics because it vitiates us with a complacency for the filigrees of momentary tinsel of a virtualized reality divorced from the concretism that used to undergird interaction and now stands outmoded as a wisp beyond outstretched hands straggling beyond the black mirror of a newfangled narcissistic clannishness that shepherds the ostentation of conceit to a predominant position that swaddles us with fretful diversion that operates on a warped logic of lurid squalor and pasty trends becoming the mainstays of a hypercritical linguistic system of entrapment based on the apostasy of candor for the propitiation of fringed aberration because of the majoritarian uproar about touchy butthurt pedantic criticasters with a penchant for persnickety structuralism. With the infestation of entertainment with the ubiquitous political cavils engineered by the ruling class to have a common arena of waggish irreverence we forget that sometimes the impetuous ****** of propaganda is cloaked by the fashionable implements of a rootless time writhing in a purported identity crisis only to gawk at the ungainly reflection of modernity in the mirror and remain blissfully unaware about the transmogrified cultural psyche that feeds the lunacy of endless spectacle based on the premise that one singular whipping post can unite an entire generation of miscegenated misfits looking for commonality to team up against the aging generations that cling to the sanctity of cherished jingoism against the intentionality of a revamped system that malingers with empty promises using exigency and legerdemain to obscure the mooncalves among their ranks that march on with quixotic dreams that tolerate only the idea of absolute tolerance and moderate only when feasibly permitted by the anchored negotiation of the fulcrum of totemic governmental responsibility between factions that wage volleys of invective at each other to promote a binary choice of vitiated compromises of mendaciloquence that ultimately endanger the republic with either the perils of hidebound conventionalism and nativist fervor or the boondoggles of fiscally irresponsible insanity cloaked with rainbows and participation trophies. Reproach can be distributed to both sides of the aisle because ironically in a world where gender is non-binary the most important reproductive ***** in the free world is a binary-by-default despotism that polarizes extremely ludic fantasies on the left met with the acrimony of the traditionalisms on the right that staunchly resist the fatuous confusions of delegated order only to the sharp rebuke of the revamped political vogue that owes its sustenance to a manufactured diplomacy of saccharine lies and ubiquitous lampoons that are lopsided in the direction of a globalist neoliberal bricolage of moderately popular buzzwords and the trojan horse of insubordinate flippant feminism that seeks to subvert through backhanded manipulation the patriarchy so many resent using lowbrow tactics and poignant case studies rather than legislating the egalitarian system into law using the proper channels. I myself am a political independent who sides with fiscal conservatism but libertarianism in most other affairs because the pettifoggery of law-and-order politics is a diatribe overused by sheltered suburbanites and red meat is often just as fatuous as blue tinsel and sadly in a majoritarian society the ushers of conformity demand corporate divestiture in favor of an ecological system of predictability rather than an opinionated welter of legitimate challenges to a broken system of backwards partisanship and wangled consent. Ultimately, I remain mostly apolitical, but I am a fervent champion of the mobilization of education to a statelier standard that demands rigor and responsibility rather than the chafe of rigmarole that understates the common objectives of humanity and rewards conventional thinking and nominal participation to earn credentialed pedigree when the bulk of talent resides elsewhere.
Jordon Feb 2011
Slow vibrations under the surface
Pulsating electric currents
Waiting satiation

Please say my name
Whisper it into my tangled curls
Promises on my neck  
Sighing over me
  
I bite my lip
Just to pause
To enjoy you longer
Drink you in

Shed my exterior being
Immerge the real me
Your patient flower
Waiting for my sunshine pleasure

Raw hot chemistry
Ignite my skin into flames
Madeline Harper Aug 2018
Faultless lines of an abject realm
Compose, ignite and overwhelm
My soul coarsely brined at the helm
Where devils dance and I am free-

If I am to lie at shallow breath
Sharper still, to a dull smoke of ****
Forsake, adjourn my rage in my death!
And heaven’s halt by false decree-

I know an ocean’s rage is a fire so rare
That these dreams stifle me only a prayer
An empty trespass of the ocean still flares
This realm: a door, my mind: a key-

There is no such soul as the sea
Where devils dance and I am free
And heaven’s halt by false decree
This realm: a door, my mind: a key
And the ocean’s rage as I flee-
Please let me know your thoughts and insight! I’ve been having repitive dreams and I’m writing to understand what I’ve been feeling through this constant dream setting.
Leonard Green Feb 2017
Prolog:
Foreplay opens with an aphrodisiac dubbed the mind
caressing private chambers with passion, over time
words stimulating nerve-endings for the ideal tease
like the skin dripping of honey from the nectar of bees
exploiting the fragrances of scented oils and balms
or maybe vib’ing lyrics inducing a seductive calm
compelling forces bombard the intellectual’s sanity
as the proximity of the blackhole distorts humanity

Love’s Play:
Costars entwine heated bodies for love’s embrace
as moments become endless as vectors of subspace
sporadic movements take the form of blissful spasms
while the players combine to mold a single plasm
ringing chimes fulfill the awareness with sensations
too diverse to classify for logical deliberations
yet finally, the mountaintop of cliffs can be reached
where there is no retreat and no return from its breach

Epilog:
Aftermath closes basking from the physical exertion
as two kindred spirits epitomize timeless insertion
gazing deeply into the abyss of the partner’s soul
only to find comfort and compassion ruling the role
can this be the earthly heaven that one truly beholds
written in the historic words as the heavens foretold
feelings ignite once again burning deeply within
opening yet another intriguing act, one must attend.
Dedicated to the lovers on Valentine's Day

— The End —