"illuminant" poems
Just a reminder:
You are beautiful
And not just for a
Single meaningless
Night of lust
But beautiful that is
Worth a lifetime of
Nights of admiration
And love, so I could
Look upon the beauty
Of your face during
Sleepless days
And look upon your
Gorgeous soul during
Illuminant nights.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 8:17 AM UTC
Anger becomes me,
Rage engages my fits .
Such unholy acts transpire through me.
Blood vesicles are visible on my illuminant skin.
Breath becomes heavy,
breath grows slow.
Tears puff in my eyes.
Lost, is my mind,
Solace is solitary.
To me it's all the same,
Solace to anger
and,
anger to pain.
Rage grows old,
Smiles become unholy,
Tears are solitary.
Anger,
Anger,
Anger.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 4:43 PM UTC
overcast
i pull on the day brightly
mine it at the maternal sources
and form a radiant :
a bloom from within fledgling elements
illuminant grenades
and the sky is peppered with characters
it's a wild play of childness
an old world whimsy
of 'here be monsters'
and shiny scrapbook havoc
the compass steps in
and with the turn of the globe
scores the horizon
clouds and the aviators
are combed into the soft crust
a spiral quilting
to cover the gift of a dream
given by one thirsty visitor
who stole it lightly
from the prism
of another travelling dreamer
God knows what'll grow
if there's a pillow fight
a deranged rain of innovation
perhaps some fiddly creation
will fast take over this world
and it's lover other
with the sky allied and fraudulent
we can host an early night
the stars (in strand)
prattle the ocular sense frontier
all constellations are like a single ribbon eel
never quite nourishing
upon its own thoughtless loop
a corduroy display
overcoat
Nov 27, 2021
Nov 27, 2021 at 9:55 PM UTC
running through grass as high as your calf muscles
you gasp for breath,
it fogs out in front of you as you pant;
its a cold night,
one where smart sensible people are indoors and covered,
huddled before fireplaces,
or cuddling up to someone.
lost in a field,
you look around,
its too dark to see far but the moon is out
because the fog is illuminant and pale everywhere you look.
there's an imposing figure,
you feel it getting closer,
hot breath near your right shoulder,
you shudder and try and **** away.
only to feel something cold.
a freezing breath on the opposite side of you,
it hugs you as you struggle.
too cold,
too cold you think,
too bitterly cold.
pushing off it your hand reaches something that bites with cold,
you pull away quickly and turn. as you turn around there's black.
you wonder where the moon went because the fog was white before.
no, now there's only black, yet glancing up you definitely see stars.
what's going on?
why is this happening?
you trip,
but its not the grass you trip over its nothing,
there is nothing there.
nothing imposing.
nothing.
why did you trip you wonder.
then you realize you didn't just trip you fell.
you just reached the next level.
something hits you hard as hot and cold figures cover you.
screaming and gasping you're being burnt and frozen.
you can struggle all you want,
but below there's only blackness,
and above,
hot and cold burn you slowly.
dirt shoved in your mouth,
gaged and held.
there is no escaping.
whatever it is.
it will burn your skin then freeze your heart and mind.
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 7:05 AM UTC
I stand still to think one day
"Am I dreaming?"
This question irks
my illuminant soul.
Quickly, I pinch myself
I feel no pain,
no sorrow, no joy.
An emptiness consumes me.
In the depths of mind
I wander around
slowing creating a
world which does not exist.
A world full of chaos
and peace. In a flow
the ocean crashes
against the giant skies.
My world is unstable
unending unbearable
to those who enter the
caves of my mind.
Wandering wishless
in a world of my creation
I put this question forth to you
"Are you sure you're awake?"
Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 10:24 PM UTC
centered, I envision my next flux for the illuminant
deepening each stretch, I angle to the ruminant
breaths breathed deep, I press into a bent round
clearing my mind space, hands grasping at the ground
mornings pass by, entering each one in the same
renewing by imitating nature's avid, sparking flame
rhythm artlessly singing, conflict emptied at the door
consciousness absolved, my bond begins here on the floor
Apr 23, 2021
Apr 23, 2021 at 3:48 AM UTC
i got tumbled over creeks over mountains and even over
the stroke of roots like "have you ever been a permanent
walking sound?"the earth was raised in meek hillocks
distending the asphalt like lovely thronging arteries
of full and with gilt split pavement just up over them
,gilt with the song of a dying star, crusted on them
as they split the yoke of the hard scramble of tightly packed
firm loosing."a tree is sound that i have tasted when i
was just young struck moments of flesh as thin as
the instants that i was then when i was in forests and
in ponds and the silk of water drowned the heat of
long suffering summer drawn cheeks(we called them
days but really they were just the paneless leaves of
glass i spun myself through as like a stretch of damped
slightly fingers, sticky slightly, i picked up some
flecks of seconds shorn and fluttering to my skin
they stuck)tanned and brushed with the rosy tattoo
of my heart down a little just a bit in my chest.
I was in the golden state and i had heard my mother
call me as the twill of friscalating nice illuminant
brushes played against my ***** blond hair and i was
pulled from them the moments of youth stabbed
instants and i was pulled right up back to now
where i am sitting just another second dead.
Jun 2, 2011
Jun 2, 2011 at 2:27 AM UTC
Radiant in her appearance
Illuminant in her glow
Translucent and iridescent
Light and airy as she goes
Captivating and fixated
Locked within my eyes
Invoking and inspiring
Probing through the lies
Overwhelming beauty
Graceful and direct
Commanding sense of inner strength
Only I detect
True and straight
Pure of gold
Peaceful little dove
Always in my heart
The one I’ll always love
Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 7:10 PM UTC
everyday i'm discussing with everyday, myself as i make out to the glamouring
the inches and dashes of every self i have
and stitches of sinew here in which lies the me that is this i, i that am
i walked in leaves of grass, of wriggling splendor's summers of shoulders
and achy crimsoned necks by the suns meters of light
measuring the stints of our crawling opaque days and suns of many sons
it's very that is that even when sun should repose his ***** of uncadenced
carefully miraculous shimmering blood
like orange and ardent flesh he'd go on us it, giving his very stuff our bodies
to wear on our wheres and whens and whys. is night not also beautiful?
it is naked beautiful. **** and beautiful
plenteous and beautiful with all its hearts in tinder palely igniting every
atom of copious earth. bowls of copious illuminant children, the things
which will become after us
the us that we were before their coming. but they are gorgeous and neither
would i weep if in my going they should take that space where were was
i. resting the shouts of my self
in the orchards of youth, i am now so but it's quickly running, flitting
eagerly from my this. in vines and plurals i am single and many. neither
none nor many. but many ones,
little bubbles of tranquil vile fluid guttering the songs of wind.
i go to streams and they are me. i go to mountains and they are me. i go
to valleys and they are me.
can i be streams and mountains and valleys? can i not be streams and
mountains and valleys? they are weeds and i am a **** a **** is a rose.
i am rose.
i am blossomed in full spring. able of petals. i am turned to the sun, with my
root between the lips of earth. who is my lover. the earth is woman.
she is a ****
a **** is a rose.
by another name. they smell just as sweet.
Apr 27, 2011
Apr 27, 2011 at 11:21 PM UTC
Agnes:
Wine, for the Greeks, brought more than
burgundy to the screen, instead
illuminant pinks and purples and yellows
swirl and wirl and twirl in orchestrated
dances of Spring.
Cherubim soar, teasingly mocking these gods,
drunk with passion and their grape wine while
pegasi rest, swoop and land like swans to a water’s surface.
Joy and ***** happiness, lovely and sound,
they prance.
In a swirl, in a wirl and in a twirl,
you bring me back to my favorite scene,
when Fantasia was my insight on art
when my mother would sit and watch with me,
instead of busying herself with others.
I had not thought of that in years,
I had not remembered the jolt to my system,
to the system of a little girl, who, often alone
had to create her own art, often had to
imagine her own melodies.
Agnes, you’ve brought the next jolt,
I’m once again flying with the black Pegasus, swooping back
to the dark living room, followed by a stampede of centaurs
cherubim lulling me to sleep,
swirling and wirling and twirling my own colors,
carrying me back to her music.
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 4:20 PM UTC
So, the universe is dying. It has been proven. All starlight and galactic all, every illuminant visible is dissipating. Stretching and fizzing out to cold dark nothingness, eliminating any twinkle known in her ever widening abyss, we are destined to an age of floating rocks, lifeless. Shivering howls of worlds already abandoned are an eerie silence imminent. The cold, the dark, the void of sound or light, is depraved sensory. Death is ultimate ultimatum to any and all. Even these words. As nothing is to be, see, hear, feel, smell or taste, just dust speckling her.
Long drawn out inarticulateness, I wonder if she shall ever be able to speak again. Waxing moon in candelabra sky, lid, the blue, goodbye. A lull in space noise clamor finds faint ping. In an arched cosmos, bend an ear, hear her sing. She softens orbiting dominions, pleases an empire's hard wire. Letting sound stem, turn out, and cry, a gush of heaving out is implied. Imploding upon a deafening madness she dies. Big Bang to Softened Ping, we're somewhere in the middle of her journey.
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 5:37 AM UTC
Reach out to the corner of darkness
in your mind
Wrap it around you
It is your shield from the illuminant
From the fake, shiny and perfect
Break away and turn inwards
Towards your pain,
your twisted,
your imperfection.
Nobody knows of the red and the black
Of the glint and the pulse
Nobody but the voices and the broken.
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 2:38 PM UTC
I am an angel freed from stone, designed by tragedy, and carved by a blade with the metallic sheen of determination. Wading in my passion like a river sometimes gentle, sometimes not. Holding on with only my fingertips to a tree branch through the raging uncertainty of my necessary evils. How I long to let go. How I long to be free. To let the ever pressing current take me beyond this current situation we call reality, and into an ever present existence where I am no more than an illuminant spec in the boundless wind. It is here, I hear your voice as clairvoyant as the restless vibrations chanting against my skin, "Hold on Ryan, Hold on."
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 7:14 PM UTC
What if;
Colors were flowers
And flowers were men
And men could swim to the sun?
Would it
Then be
Any different, would we
Still have,
Bombs and guns?
What if;
We were
The winds and waters
That cover this illuminant earth?
Would it
Then be
That we
Would fall
To berths that haven’t taken birth?
What if;
Tears
Had meanings and wisdom
And lips that spoke the truth absolute?
Would it
Then happen
That wars
And darkness
We spread for glory, we would mute?
What if;
The stars were hungry
And extraterrestrials
Our friends, and met us one day?
Would it
Then matter
What race
Or creed,
Or random colors our shadows went astray?
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 1:55 AM UTC
black and blue bruises print your back like a roadmap
and the red scratches are statelines leading toward our passion
enraged and engulfed in love
no outside matter can awake us
or catch our attention until the deed is done
and afterwrads we lay in a sweaty pile of legs and arms
and we both glisten and pant
and the world smells like daises dipped in sunshine
waking up from the deep slumber that later ensues
is like being born again
muscles are sore, such a sweet sense of pain
and everything is too bright, but it's nice
like the sun is a close second cousin you haven't seen in a while
together at night we're like a storm cloud
but there's always a decent sized rainbow when we wake
laying here now, in this morning glow, I watch
I watch your skin quiver at my touch
and I watch you eyelids flutter
you stick your fingers in my hair even though they get stuck
and we giggle and it is musical
because your laughter sounds like what I imagine the moon does
deep, but raspy like you've been smoking candy cigarettes
it's quite impossible for me to express my love
in any other way than between these sheets
and if that makes me unholy then so be it,
and let me ****** forever
because your body is my temple
and I bless you skin every night with my kisses
so I suppose that makes me a saint actually
and your words my teachings and your tattoos my scribe
I don't fully believe in reincarnation
and less in soulmates
but this feels too good not to have been
premonitioned by ancient stars
there are three ways I love you
and the first two are the way you take me to bed
the third is your eyes
and the way they are illuminant
like moonbeams
and round
like they could be innocent
except I know the deep seated lust they hide
god, your eyes are so beautiful
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 6:00 PM UTC
Close your eyes,
pretend to fly
But, somehow, your not
pretending anymore
once the darkness glazed over,
it becomes real,
you swim in the
clouds and glowing yellow sky
the cool, cold, but warm air
fills and surrounds your soul
replacing the emptiness,
inside
And now you realize,
this is reality
this is your dream
your capable of smashing all
things your expected to be,
because this is your fairy tale dream
The beautiful sky
that your free to fly,
fades,
now it's water,
you float upon it's calm surface
just above the darkness that
intends to swallow you
but it doesn't.
it's so calm the water reflects
the stars above, my friends,
this is the calm before every storm,
the quiet voice before the trailed, de-railed, echo
and despite the seas promise not to pull you into darkness, it does,
This is my home, the sea keeps me captive in it's darkness, my only light is my night sky
but this, is even worse
the monsters that lurk here
mock me, for being here and not even in reach of my light, my illuminant, Night Sky
I'm trapped here, but this is a dream isn't it? Yes... No
but I'm not really here, so yes, I've been told I go around as a hypocrite, by people whom I try to help, people who figure out why I'm so good with other people's seas of darkness and lurking, mocking, monsters, is because I hide my own. I dream my own.
This is no cry for help,
I'm not some ticking time bomb
ready to start the next world war,
no.. I do what others cant,
what psychologists and beruocrats cant stand to hear,
Is I put others dark ocean of emotion, before my own
I'm capable of understanding
and standing under others judgemental tries, because I'm more, your more, then reality
If you truly are more
then this world full
of people who believe
that others pain
is some sort of joke,
You know,
You already have an
Understanding
of the full picture
you have a understanding
that not only do I bottle my
pain so I am capable
of mending others happy endings
But because I can't open up
because it's to much
and I'd rather it inside me then others
Because I love so many others
I can't,
and this may seem like some rant,
Some poorly organized throw up
of emotion on a digital page
but this is my ocean
this is my sea
this is my illuminant sea life
reminding me how I can't have
Real stars
So I become others
Fairy Tale Fixture
Jul 17, 2019
Jul 17, 2019 at 8:26 PM UTC
A perpetually illuminant why,
Has adorned me to believe,
My passion is to cry,
My passion is to grieve,
Patronised to my beings extent,
Is a limerence to being content,
Nov 27, 2024
Nov 27, 2024 at 1:28 PM UTC
Sitting in the back of a black Honda Accord,
we were taking a ride across my city.
We saw jungles of skyscrapers passing by;
We saw a red flyover illuminant ahead,
like a real artery filled with blood.
A civilized city! You marveled.
and I smiled a smile you couldn't see,
cause we were sitting side by side.
Side by side, soul by soul,
Across the city we were taking a ride
Dec 10, 2019
Dec 10, 2019 at 11:06 PM UTC