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Cné Dec 2017
~
O Painter
with thy own eye
                        would thee
paint me in mine own natural hue
prithee paint me as i am,
imperfections
            and blemishes true

Load thy brush
                      with colors sundry
to maketh yond first pure sweep
across the ****** frieze,
fill'd with pangs of hunger.
paint me as i standeth
                  bethought, in deep

With mine own love and mine own desire,
blurring the edges unclean
with mine own regrets
                  and mine own mental gyre,
in mine own natural age,
               of deep forest green

O Painter
Paint me sinister turquoise,
in lavender and maroon,
combine the amethyst and amber
blend the iceberg
       and the indigo moon.

Paint me as i standeth,
       prithee see with thy eye
a mistress in yond lady plight
Prithee paint me all i am
i cullionly
a mistress in all yond lady might

Paint me in the optimistic
                             silv'r of dawn,
but don’t miss the purple
to shade the bruise
                              of the bygone.
paint me in the sky blue journal

O Painter
Paint me as a unique template
smudge black white and grizzled
merging all the colors of thy palette.
col'r me a rainbow
                            in a rainy drizzle

Paint me tall so yond i standeth
loftier than any mountain
Paint me as a dram bird, delicate
with soft feathers silken

Paint me harmony, as a violin
so yond i can sing thy solitary tune
paint me as thy poetry
         with song and melody
wrapp'd in a cocoon

O Painter
paint me as a dream yond rises
                               in did saturate colors
with a steady upbeat flight awry
tint, a fluttering
             of a quite quaint butterfly

Portray me with endurance
imbue so bold and bright
doth not hesitate
                to depict mine own mind
in profound fuchsia and white.

Useth the colors yond thee would borrow
Thy palette not yet exsufflicate
Paint mine own loss and mine own sorrow
in search of a shade so ******

Adorn mine own heart in glowing garnet
at which hour thee paint mine own love
add a true broken blue shade
of the cloud and the rain above;

Study mine own dry sorrow
                              in mine own soul
useth any shade thee plaited
soften the edges of control
in a tinge of xanthene.

O Painter
Prithee paint me
Mine own passion and mine own spirit
shall has't a crimson r'd hint
mine own remorse and mine own regret
shall reflect an ink stain print

Paint me in mine own eye so true
O Painter
but add a dash of courage too

~
When I paint, I’m never quite satisfied as I see all my mistakes, blemishes and colors not quite right. I tend to keep painting to try and get it all right. At some point, I arrive with the conclusion, if I keep going I’m going to mess it up. I stand across the room and, it’s then that I’m amazed at what I have created. I like to think that I’m seen in the same way by my creator.
Edward Coles Feb 2017
The distant park
Was a graveyard of dead stars.
Each streetlight a system of worlds,
So many lives between each mote of light,
Indistinguishable in their unique love,
Bespoke hate, and the drama of the modern age.

Drunk laughter behind transparent
Double doors. Another hotel balcony,
Another cloud behind the canopy
Of marijuana eyes
To unsettle me from the crowd.

She points out, when you look closely
You can see the disorder
Amongst all constellations
Of life and love and litter;
Of discarded Coke cans
And temporary highs.

She says this is not a scene
To imbue the ****** of a present mind,
More to baulk at the incompletion
Of one thousand to-do lists;
A million reasons why
You should just stay inside.

She says you can see the human swell
Of ignorance, our city lights
Blotting out the stars
In a black ocean of broken politic
And irretrievable fault lines-
Divisions between us all.
Lives twisted with professional smiles
And eyes lit with stunning indifference.

Still, I have felt charity and warmth
On the doorstep of lunatics and fascists.
I have read the love of life
In faces of those who gave up.
I have recounted countless artists
Who saw beauty
In moments that precisely lacked it.

I have spent too many nights
In anaesthesia,
Fleeing each instance of feeling
And terror; all the tremors
That tell me I am still alive.

Continued to stare at the lights
Long after her voice
And the laughter inside had gone.

Heard waves in the traffic.
A world so large, so expansive,
It can never truly sleep.
Every broken heart,
Every war-torn land,
Every promotion,
Every one-night stand.

I wonder what would happen
If we all stood still.
If we all took one moment
To observe the motion
That unfolds beneath
Our static windowsill.

If we all took one moment
To recover our loss.
The wars that we won,
The feelings, forgot.
The hell we retain;
Our paradise, lost.
C
I fall in love with everyone,
I'm falling hard for you.
You aren't something easily found,
you're rare,
and real,
it's true.
You've traveled such a rugged path,
but through the trials you grew.
This isn't all just simple math,
it's souls
and spirits too.
The future holds
what you can't grasp,
but you can see it through. 
And when I place it on a graph,
it all adds up to you.
Scatter plot the present and past,
you'll end up with the new.
But isn't music,
secretly math,
that follows certain que's?
No!
Music
represents our love,
for all that may ensue.
It's symbolic
of our emotion,
either happy
or blue.
It's what I feel,
that prompts my life,
with what I need to do.
The sounds i hear,
release my fear,
and in my heart imbue.
A fire,
I could never start,
without some help from you.
Estranged ensemble orchestration onerous
                     Intangible instinct intrigue impetus
                     Cortex vortex vertex fastuous
                     Somatalogy cognition equilibrist meatus
                     Vertigo vestige vexation covetous

                     Haberdashery hauberk harangue inspection
                     Mystical silhouette sojourn direction
                     Perpetrate propinquity harbinger rejection
                     Fastuous fortuity forum election
                     Chiaroscuro chicanery gossamer convection

                     Metaphysical mystique’s rive declensions
                     Paphian kitsch kithe abstentions
                     Paltry panderings rife contentions
                     Horologist hackamore lapidary inventions
                     Soliloquous covertures manifest intentions

                     Noumenal ***** exsertion illuminate
                     Apropos ipso-facto aspersion relegate
                     Clairaudience taciturn subversion denigrate
                     Larceny lecher coercion expurgate
                     ***** lewd beatitudes exonerate

                     Perpetude parameter incorporeity pervasions
                     Terminus thrall’s anathema correlations
                     Exegesis peroration imputation iterations
                     Ideational peripherals intimate evasions
                     Vituperative verve’s temerarious elations

                     Psychic reverie subterfuge decision
                     Astral projection transience derision
                     Exserted proximity phantasm incision
                     Machismo machinations elicit precision
                     Heredity heritage heresy revision

                     Edacious intransigent gamut phallus
                     Indispensably puissant barratry malice
                     Invariably imperative metaphor talus
                     Aorist actuator pseudopodia chalice  
                     Altruistic egalitarian segregant palace

                     Allocution incursive objectify ostensible
                     Enamor allude ingratiation inimical
                     Infatuation allure emendation rhetorical
                     Cursive ***** raconteur allegorical
                     Amorous endear sycophant categorical

                     Inherently endemic anachronism political
                     Emendation propensity opulently diabolical
                     Surreptitious ethnicity epigraphy mimetical
                     Pompously bombastic flagrant inimical
                     Doughty nuance intrepidly maniacal

                     Obliquity euphenics intrados expound
                     Subjunctive ancillary subordinates confound
                     Ethereal euthenics ubiquity propound
                     Subservient adversarial repartee profound
                     Meritorious monocracy mendacity astound

                     Insidiously sinister incumbency abuse
                     Obstreperous imperatives obdurately retuse
                     Ominous omnipotent avarice deduce
                     Trajectory faction commensurately obtuse
                     Cornucopia critique sequesterously abstruse

                     Tyrannical ulterior ultimatum purvey
                     Adjunct conjunction conjecture portray
                     Evocative emulation connivance convey
                     Fulminate fuscous futurity relay
                     Cephalic phantasmagoria protuberant assay

                     Acuity educement propensity gesticulation
                     Preternatural proclivity tactile articulation
                     Eidetic mnemonics scenario prestidigitation
                     Transcendental accession ascentional avocation
                     Derisive subjective subordinance rumination

                     Apriori arbitration apostrophe sagacious
                     Predilection predication apomixis bodacious
                     Wonder lust itinerary transitively tenacious
                     Intrinsic affinity succinctly salacious
                     Prophylaxis protocol invasively ostentatious

                     Hypercritically mitigational dialectics felicity
                     Surreal serendipity dharma propensity
                     Supplicant sever hypotaxis intensity
                     Monogamously autonomic ostracism eccentricity
                     Evolutionally metamorphic rendition complicity

                     Insipidly vapid invective flatulence
                     Intangible ratification interdiction corpulence
                     Exigent viscid visceral virulence
                     Eradicably mingy minion truculence
                     Fortuitous refraction remission opulence

                     Ephemeral effulgence effluent projection
                     Accidence ambience acoustics confection
                     Recondite esoteric prosaics detection
                     Epistemology epithet equities correction
                     Erudite effusion existentialize affection

                     Arduous ardent amore egressed
                     Corporeal essence enigmatism caressed
                     Adrenergic analeptic fatidics confessed
                     A posteriori cartography tropism ******
                     Anaclitic analgesia anacrusis suppressed

                     Irascible audacity compunction astute
                     Rejuvenate remission remonstrance compute
                     Nocturnal emission repose dilute
                     Rendezvous rectitude recital refute
                     Remunerate resonant retort impute

                     Agnate nous monad prerogative
                     Suborn impedance numinous imperative
                     Adumbrate intimate obfuscation evocative
                     Extrapolation excursion incursion intuitive
                     Invective prognostication prosthesis demonstrative

                     Retrospect innate residuals compete
                     Reliquiae requiem anecdotically surfeit
                     Aesthetic aphorism geomancy effete
                     Brusque macabre dementia replete
                     Perspicacious perseverance personification complete

                     Avaricious aegis vagary incite
                     Colloquialism jargon ideational delight
                     Prurient adage vernaculars insight
                     Apex crux axis matrix excite
                     Affluent opaque quintessential bight knight


                         Dichotomous epilogue :

                      Intuitive inherency , anachronism transpositional cogitations accrue
                     Torturously portentous intrinsically pervasive transitivities ensue
                     Consternating transient , verbose barratry verbiage brew
                     Viably salient venially mendacious veracities construe
                     Endemically aggressive encroachments , latent magniloquence review
                     Tenaciously intrepid divinatory futurity venerations imbue
                     Probitous aversion nominalism propensity derivations eschew
                     Intrinsically auspicious tortuously invasive transitivities blue
                     Anachronism transpositional , intuitive inherency cogitations ; adieu
Terry O'Leary Jan 2014
as the PROPHETS of profits, WE lead and WE’re fair
while WE’re living the life of the poor BILLIONAIRE
– silver yachts, pearly castles, cash (plenty to spare) –
with the world on OUR backs... ah! the burdens WE bear!

being HAVES (not the have-nots) as nature decrees
means WE’re certainly the better (they’re vermin on ******).
if they pray for a lift in their dark fantasies,
WE just kick ’em downstairs, get ’em off of their knees.

yes, WE offer great jobs (much too busy OURSELVES!)
for maintaining the toilets, restacking the shelves,
and WE teach ’em to fear god and play with the elves,
thus dispelling ideas where the dark demon delves.

though they build mighty bridges, twin towers and more,
peddle pizzas and popcorn, sell guns door-to-door,
still they gotta have BOSSES to tell ’em the score
else WE’d never be needed, WE’d thrive nevermore.

when OUR profits are plunging, they do their part too
for they dine on the dole! yes, no hullabaloo!
soon OUR fortunes  redouble, rebound and accrue –
since WE fare well without ’em, WE bid ’em adieu.

’stead of wishing for welfare and standing in queues
or parading with pickets (look! holes in their shoes!),
they’d be better off scabbing to save union dues.
while WE whistle and warble, they’re singing the blues.

whether heroes or hoboes, like spiders and lice
they just crawl all around us in life’s paradise,
but WE’re patient, big hearted and oft sacrifice,
spewing charity, kindness (though each has its price).

if they’re beaten or punctured or suffer assault,
are unhealthy or crippled or walk with a halt,
or ******* or helpless, it’s all their own fault –
just like US they should worship the DOLLAR exalt’!

protesters and loud mouths, you’ll find ’em aplenty
some older, some younger, the worst not yet twenty.
they’re shameless and brazen (unwashed, soiled and scenty)
impugning the prestige of brave COGNOSCENTI.

if they’ve got clashing colors (or shades in between)
or opposing beliefs in the hidden unseen,
well, WE’ll always exploit it, deflecting their spleen,
for with god on each side, would WE dare intervene?

WE maintain many methods to keep ’em in chains –
daily rags and the tube spin OUR circus campaigns:
“to pretend you’ve a voice”, an announcement explains,
“you can vote and decide on which ONE of US reigns”.

OUR policemen protect US, they stay on the ball
(they arrest ’em, no questions per law’s protocol,
and then jam ’em in jail with their backs to the wall) –
if you’ve lucre for lawyers there’s justice for all.

down the ROYAL road of justice WE march all alone
– WE condemn their defiance, set ways to atone –
since WE’re sinless, unsullied, WE cast the first stone
(while WE cloak REGAL fetor with eau de cologne).

politicians, bald bankers, grand idols galore,
attend meetings, fete banquets in which they explore
how to rid US of rodents (the weak and the poor) –
well, just round up the riff-raff, dispatch ’em to war!

ah! OUR wars are, well, just...... just a thing of the past
........... and the present............... and future... WE sure make them last!
if they frown as they gaze (Armageddon!) aghast,
then WE smile back with pleasure, OUR treasures amassed.

useless ranting and raving (in rags, when they’re clad),
leads to losing their teeth (my! their gums are... egad!).
WE’re unselfish, indulgent, WE’d never be mad
if they drowned in the sounds of themselves feeling sad.

as the paupers are princes in midnight’s domain,
they have pipe dreams to lose, certainly nothing to gain
if they’re hoping OUR fortunes will wither and wane –
for “WE’re here by god’s will” as WE often explain.

yes, they wish to be US, with OUR wisdom and grace,
keeping up with ol’ CROESUS, maintaining the pace.  
but perverseness or rancor? they’ll see not a trace –
for WE hold ’em at bay with a fist in the face.

WE’re la CRÈME de la CRÈME, yes! the proud UPPER CRUST,
and OUR clothes are the finest, OUR hair never mussed –
WE imbue ’em with piety, duty and trust
and they’re fed bread and water (if feed ’em WE must).

but they’re thieving, aggrieved, want a piece of OUR PIE
and request WE endure ’em, see EYE to black eye.
since they live in OUR land where OUR strict rules apply,
they must feast on the crumbs that We cast to the sty.

though OUR largesse and bounty WE don’t mean to flaunt,
yet the pittance WE pay ’em they surely can vaunt –
salty peanuts and pretzels (what more could they want?)
thereby keeping their kiddies so healthily gaunt.

yes, there’s room for the rabble (the back of the bus)
’cause WE treat ’em like equals, so what’s all the fuss?
all can rise to the top (yes! it’s always been thus),
to the suites in OUR penthouse (to sweep up and dust).

while OUR CHILDREN have tutors, the finest of schools
(being bred for the forefront, THEY’re nobody’s fools),
their own school of hard knocks teaches: “follow the rules”,
building brawn ’stead of brains and broad backs strong as mules’.

and to keep ’em in line (to ensure WE prevail)
WE now monitor phone calls and read all their mail
(civil rights? what a notion! at best a detail!)
and if worse comes to worst...... well...... guantanamo jail!

WE’ve OUR quandaries and questions and headaches full blown
(like deciding design and decor of OUR throne...
whether diamonds or rubies... to gemstones WE’re prone) .
when WE deign to appease ’em, WE chuck ’em a bone.

now you know all OUR problems, OUR pains and travails
– like preparing foreclosures, evictions  and sales –
but WE’ve no need for worries or gnawed fingernails,
’cause WE’re sailing OUR yachts through tempestuous gales
(with them bailing OUR banks when OUR stock market fails)
sipping daiquiri sours, champagnes, ginger ales.
:-)
Àŧùl Sep 2017
You ask me a query,
You ask, "Where Are You, Honey?"

I have an answer for you,
I say, "I'm inside your heart, honey."

You let it extend, your doubt,
You implore, "But why is it so hazy?"

I fire a ******* in response,
I say, "It's hazy because you're lazy!"

You smile but get perplexed by now,
You ask, "Will you stay if moving on I fail to?"

I am mature and couth,
I say, "I find no reason good enough to not to."

You wonder to yourself,
You ask, "Where from I got you?"

I remind you that I came back,
I say, "I consider it my responsibility to imbue your life with the brightness,
The light lacking in your life,
And to provide you with warmth,
So that you are free from your shivers,
And so that you can be my wife,
I want to fill that void in your day,
Maybe I was sent back only for you,
On your mother's recommendation,
And so wise was her receptivity,
I know that I am a man of my words,
Surely I will make it large for us,
And you are such a hardworking lady,
Our children will have it healthy,
And they will surely have it wealthy,
The wealth won't just be material,
But they will be taught fine civility."


You now ask me your final query,
You ask, "Who will be their tutor?"

I smile and simply end this discussion,
I say, "Obviously, me and you."

Even you are satisfied by now,
You smile & say, "I love you, honey."

I hear what I have been longing to,
I say with a broad smile, "I love you too, honey."
∆∆∆∆∆∆∆
My HP Poem #1664
©Atul Kaushal
Quixotically frenetic hegira to xanadu                    
Frantic pedantic febrile fanatic
Stalwart bulwark ubiquity's tableau
Diabolically maniacal dementia emphatic


Proximity prophylaxis ; perimeter parameter peripheral
Idiomatic virtuoso ; cognate somatalogy habitual

Objectified interstitial ; extrapolation rendition irascible
Puissant presage (apex) ; vortex crux discernible

Diminutive minutia ; iota inductive interpolations
Adjunct turpitude ; impropriety veneration conflagrations

Squanderous squalor ; scavenge scandalous inveterate
Irrefragable reiteration ; felicitous acuity recapitulate

Aptitude ribaldry ; rigmarole extraversion embezzlement
Autonomous avarice ; oscillating ostracism impediment

Irkness ire ; graffiti mantra reiteration
Inductive interpolations ; confluent catalyst trepidation

Allegorical alacrity ; pervasion inductions introspection
Egalitarian existentialism ; eyrie altruism exculpation

Analogous collusions ; adumbrate intimate obfuscate
Aorist actuator ; preterite rendition intimidate

Transient turbulence ; totally tomorrow tyrannical
Tactile acuity ; lucid lurid eidetical

Ancillary conjectures ; conjure connivance integumence
Impetus volition ; analogous confluence adamance

Palindrome pandemonium ; prestissimo rendition obdurate
Myopic Mermidon ; anathema android amalgamate

Subliminal nostalgic ; mnemonics nepotism subordinate
Cavalier humeral ; superficial syllogism conglomerate

Pilferous wheedling ; finagler longevous loquacity
Ramification decorticate ; declension suborn temerity

Mangle maim ; hectic mayhem mutilate
Relative rationality ; rational relativity confiscate

Hypothesis propound ; theoretical incursion grandiloquence
Dynamic progressive ; Endergonicaly protensive magniloquence
                                                   ­                                                                 ­        
Heuristic psychokinesis ; psychosomatic misanthropies equilibrist Haberdashery hauberk ; greaveness gauntlets catalyst

Soliloquious reverie ; phantasmagoria phalaxy enclitic
Prestidigitation gesticulation ; guidon gyration xenophobic

Demagoguery demonstrative ; precocious precursor impunity
Monad ebullition ; mirador bartizan recumbency

Ebullition mesomerism ; redolence proxy platonic
Obstreperous conflagration ; pilgrimage prophet atomic

Impending preponderance ; vituperative allusion stark
Bleakness blear ; photic ion quark

Surrogate onerous ; doughty statute numinous
Plunderous pillaging ; usurper squanderous nous

Quintessential frolic ; amorous enamor sequatious
Segregant sequesterous ; confiscate conformity edacious

Objectified collusions ; surrogate whirlpool vertex
Cohesive coercion ; pragmatic adhesive matrix

          Pandemic plenipotentiary ; salient viable seethe            
Tortuous prosthesis ; telekinesis taunt teethe

Pander paphian ; paltry ******* ramificate
Plenery putschist ; quintessential kitsch procrastinate

Telepathy tantalize ; talisman futurity copacetic
Aura auspicious ; clairaudience volatile phatic

Lexical etymology ; illiteracy idolatrous littoral
Panoramic tableau ; tabula intransigence clitoral

Logistical tactician ; mystical mores platitude
Archaic anachronism ; futurity pervasion perpetude

Obsequious diligence ; extrapolation iterative cohort
Extravagant exorbitance ; agnate aggregate cavort

Anaclitic  analgesia ; anacrusis excursion sojourn
Pilgrimage prophet ; silhouette journey taciturn

Ethereal eugenics ; euphenics constituency malfeasance
Trapesium traverse ; grandiose trivia munificence

Revelation revision ; cosmic enigma anomalous
Euthenics ingratiation ; sycophant philanderous exogamous

Renaissance raunchy ; ephemeral effulgence antonym
Effluent effusion ; Cornucopia coup synonym

Metaphysique cyborg ; cybernetics appliance prognostication
Splendiferous autonomous ; elliptical empathy retrospection

Vaunt ness verve ; multifarious nefarious concatenate
Concoct catenary ; bilkness bightness syncopate

Collusion recalcitrance ; exude emote id
Imbue adept ; except inept did

Psychic regalia ; cephalic fallacious adult raw
Concubinage condolence ; preternatural propensity ne plus ultra
BDFHKLT  ACEIMNORSUVWX
Michael Briefs Jul 2017
From white canvass,
a blank ledger of potent
expectation,
awaiting form and function.
The artist invokes
shade and light.
The seminal swirl of
her brush signals
simple hue,
discrete structures.
Then flesh strokes imbue
sanguine blush of
satin seams
and outstretched limbs;
spring greens and rampant peaks,
reaching high into
gossamer nimbus. Calm swells,
abundant bosoms,
beckoning fields of luxuriant temptation.
From an eternal cool,
the (all too) temporary warmth
of her embrace
lies just beyond:
enticing, luring, teasing
into torrid desire.
From whence,
the dream
unfolds...
See a photo that inspired this poem: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10209365905400609&set=a.10208174166607884.1073741828.1113041505&type=3&theater
Aarya Jan 2014
If I could,
I would pick up my ink pen
and drown an ocean into you
instead of drowning you in it.
Extract these rotting feelings
for the sake of your ignorance.
Carve scriptures into each delicacy of your brain
so you wouldn’t have to dwell in such misery every day.
Wire faith
to your blemished heart.  
Imbue purity
to your sullied soul.
If I could,
I would write you through all depths of insanity
without any harm
so that your
mind no longer persists the thought of death.
There was a time I thought you were dead.
Only you were painted red
in a black and white world.
Like you have been walking barefoot on a broken road
your whole life.
Your demons imitate life
And life imitates the demons.
You are the one being tied down by invisible, nonexistent chains.
So unaccepting of help that has come for you
Watch  
the sun touch the horizon
reach the meeting of sun and ground
and
Find further still,
The limits you would like to reach only run from you.
You have such a murderous tongue
for society  
people.
But one day I hope to see you write yourself into existence
Rather than to let yourself drown in it.
Why has you dying become something so habitual?
Darling, death is not a friend of yours
Nor are you a friend of his.
But I know of your frequent dates with death
Tell me
Does his neck feel like happiness
And do his lips relieve you of your suffocation
Now
are you lost?
or are you found?
Do you recognize the irony  
Of the most terrifying things happening in the most angelic places
Charm yourself upon that bridge
Whose lights light up the city in golden arrays
With a glazed look
you’d think.
In sadness seen go by
You are charmed by either war or hope.
These occurred robberies have taken much
But they left opportunity
Important people
And a moon in your window
A future that only you know the ending of  
And a slice of the midnight sky.
So it goes.
Nico Julleza Dec 2017
∙∙∙◦◦•◎•◦◦∙∙∙
Sitting at the balcony, a sunset to her face
a scent of chamomile, an elated memory rephrases
frolicking aster's in autumn color graced
the imbue of old feelings, her craft of curtain lace

Spinning a rustic harmony, the rustle of leaves
dips a chocolate pudding, her smile swept by me
a dessert like sky, the billow swirls in place
our grandkids tag-along to the hounds that chase

An old love song, a diary of stories we made
halcyon, even her face freckles and her hair is gray
she gave me fields that kisses spring and fall
our magic remains forever, even our time is called
#Love #Relatioship #Song

It Took me many months to finish this poem, to get the inspiration. I'm Glad its finally done.. Enjoy my love story poets.

(NCJ)POETRYProductions. ©2017
Dreams
Are euphony
Of thought,
Of heart,
Of body,
Of the splendid,
Of the soul,

(Unbinding our once
Spectral Fates
          That spiraled down
The Keys of Life
Tainted by
The Greatest of Dissonance)

My Redolent Reverie,
Sweetened by
Mellifluous Nectar Tides
Of cherished moments
Steeped for eons
In our
Carnal yearnings
Are made anew
By the Cosmogonist’s Hands
Of Eternity

(O, for I
Doth doven the skies,
That the Incendiary Wings
Of the Auburn Pheonix
Imbue me
With the Souls Acquisition
Of Golden Pinions
                      Of the Thew of Vitality).

Captive visions,
Slumber in
My Azure Dreamer’s Chest
Engraved with
The Insignia of Archaic Fates
Upon it’s
Starry Epidermis
Till skies fall
To the Terrene
And
The Luminaries
Shall rest
Betwixt
The palms of my hands

(O, for then
This Juggernaut of a Man
That I am
Shall Effloresce
Ceasing to be
     That Loveless Sentinel,
The Guardian over
The Bastion Heart
He fathoms
Impregnable)

.Ensorcelled Butterflies
Radiate
Lovelit Lavender Light
Upon that
Astral Parcel,
Lulling my weary eyes
By the
Sovereignty of Monarchial Wings
Vanquishing the doubts
Once blurring
My Kaleidoscopic Dreams
(Life’s Iridescent Seal
Branded upon
My forehead
And etherealizing
My exhalations
                    Till crystalline)

My sullied heart
Pulses shadowed winds
(The Sweeping Gales of Solemnity)
Without the
Blissful Kiss of Cadence
Resonating an
Ebony surge
Deeper,
Than first octave tonality
Of abyssal timbre.

I beseech you,
Unfurl those forested eyes
My Desiderata Materialista,
That I may
Drinketh of your
Emerald Streams,
Ineffably Pristine.

(For then
I shall be
Spirited away
      To Eden,
My existence
     Shall become
Nirvanic Transcendence)

To pine is a pang,
To envisage
Is to breath.

Perhaps that
Is the only solace
My feeble soul
Can bear,
Without you.

By your alabaster skin
Vein my eyes
With luminescence.

With your tender caress
Saunter my
Voracious skin.

Weave my Chrysalis,
By your
Susurrant voice.

Cocoon me
In your
Flawless serenade,
That I metamorphose
Bearing the
Sacrosanct Wings of Phantasmagoria
And
The Melisma of Your Piety.

Pearlescent blood
Floweth within me,
Like baptismal rain,
As I muse
When you alight
Once more
In my Cosmos.

I am yours,
Floral Fallal.

~Our fears are the burdens
    Of the Vestige of the Past,
      A hollow cry
       That fights to exist
         In a zeitgeist
           That flowers
              Quicker than
                Our hearts know how to beat.
                          
                     Unfurl your Gates
                           To the Arbiter of Fates,
                              Unearth the Hallowed Crystals
                                 Of your Garnetiferous Passion
                                    That takes shape
                                        Because you…

                               O, Stalwart Knight,
                                    You were cosmic
                                         Like myriad raindrops,
                                           Mystic echoes
                                              Emancipating­ your spirit
                                                 From the trepidation
                                                     ­    Of the mortal kind.

                                                   Evolve,                                            
                                Evanesce,                       ­   
                                                  For to be Ephemeral                      
                                 ­                Means to conquer                                  
That Magisterial Oblivion.
                                                       ­     Se’lah.~
Hey guys! I've been doing a great deal of experimenting with my writing as of late. This piece is an embodiment of all the introspection, musings, tribulations, and heartbreaks I have experienced as of late. I hope you all can appreciate this piece despite the quasi-obscurant references that I present bereft of explicit detail.

The core of this piece lies in the fundamental nature of our dreams, yearnings, and aspirations (as well as the shadows born of the loveless blight). It effloresced it something much greater as I continued to refine it. Hope you guys like! God bless!
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2015
why doesn’t english phoneticism diacritic the non-trill r, or why doesn’t it diacritic the non-harking h? i wonder... where’s all the nation’s intelligence gone to... investing 650 billion in the ant mound that’s london? the politics blame it on the eastern european... ‘never blame it on the chinese or the arabs... they have the investments to come with boom & bust coordinates of new york’s 1920s hopes... followed up with depression.’ but oddly enough no recession in poland... perhaps because the poles have all the salt and lost all the dollars’ worth of edible mince pie (while the irish only lost ***** in hazelnut hangover forgetfulness on the titanic minding the class system of who got the lifeboats) - **** me, i’ve turned into a welsh longbows’ man with the famous V of agincourt... i’m not even welsh... but i’m assuredly an abacus: count to two sheep flights of suicide and towing two snorkel sneezes worth of bubbles before dozing off; ah... the celebrated humanity.*

that’s how it works... the r that lost the wheel and the ballerina twirl,
and the rolling-on requirements of a diacritic mark,
since all the available ones are inadequate,
and the h needs surgery to be honest...
it’s hardly a hay stack... as is the gnome eager to learn
about gnosticism and u-boats...
but did i tell you this one story that might
make you laugh?
in my post brain haemorrhage psychosis
i bought a martin & co. acoustic guitar for £600
while trading in a mandolin i bought cleaning toilets
in an edinburgh nightclub getting more than i expected
from a **** groper... sold for £25 second hand which i didn’t take
and just left it there due to honour
(who'd empty ****** in beer bottles from a toilet
getting harassed by a gay
in order to buy a £70 mandolin to play
only one song and then sell it for £25 and take the money?!)...
no, really, the english r needs diacritic markings
to distinguish it from the other european arms and arses
fidgety.
so this martin & co.’s guitar i bought
and took to my ex-girlfriends house...
which i left outside... and... oddly enough
in a guitar sheath the guitar suddenly spontaneously
decided to itch and break up...
my ex-girlfriend’s father said the cold did it...
he was always the handyman to break things...
then i started to head-**** the guitar until i managed
to weave a hole in it to sound more hollow...
so i fixed it in the end... a blind man could play it...
my ex-girlfriend’s father ended up as a nutcracker in
the mental health unit for a month while
england rejoiced when the pantomime season came along
in the local theatres - plates were thrown and dogs were walked...
like tonight... me in cognitive conversation:
‘hey stranger’s dog across the street, why you pausing
tail waggling and pavlov ready for a treat
and trying to imbue a french revolution’s cause off the leash?’
religiously you're reversing the due pundit of prayer
for the thing suffering... christianity almost feeds
the notion of prayer unto the continually suffering...
you wouldn't see prayer so easily given to
zeus ******* hera on the chair... would you?
pathetic, even morbid perverts of poverty
******* out the blood from the man...
if he deserved it he deserved it... it's not so easily
grecian polished into the realm of the undeserved...
the classical philosopher inquired: the gods exist...
but why are you sacrificing animals for their existence?
the modern philosophers inquired: the god exists...
but why are you sacrificing your emotions for their existence?
i will not sacrifice a goat on the altar...
but that was easier given the fact you're feeling
such sibyl s & m with that thing dangling on two planks of wood;
didn't i write of the malachi heresy...
the heresy that invaded monotheism and said
john smith postcode *** *** from the 21st century
will always be john smith from london from the 16th century?
malachi's heresy concerning the reincarnation of elijah
decisively spoke of the fractioned hebrew god... it spoke of 1
as 1/2, 1/3, 1/4, 1/5, 1/6, 1/7, 1/8, 1/9 etc.
i can't believe that... like hegel equated in
the book marx digested and rebelled against, i = i,
malachi you propagator & instigator of christianity and islam!
malachi! to the greeks & romans with you tied to st. paul!
(even allen ginsberg mentions this equation
in one of his poems: i am i, old father fisheye that
begat the ocean, the worm at my own ear,
the serpent turning around a tree;
kant and 0 as negation, hegel and the equals sign as being,
naturally ≠ has to imply non-being);
not building idols of forearm and knee for worship is what islam
got away with replacing them with the worship of words...
i'd hate to worship that night idol dictated by a man
who couldn't read... it's almost like a crow hunching
next to a statue of ramses ii about
where r a m s e s trivialised the six pack of the abdomen
there were the letters r a m s e s without definite form
to concern the suckling of favourite idol mantras...
idol holy word hum hum ham ahead of you...
thou shalt knot the casual reference of muhammad
in the corner shop for thou shalt not offend
the goosebumps sensation i feel when i hear the sounds...
MAKE THEE **** A HOLY **** WORDED & WORSHIPPED!
ARSES IN THE AIR GENTS... WE'RE GOING TO HAVANAH!
and so it was... the only fear of death i have
is to have lived to being aged 72... and then died;
death sooner... death... sooner!
my parents die i'm moving to the true england, up north,
to liverpool or manchester... **** the southern fairies
from dubai... i rather move to the faroe islands to be honest...
and **** a dozen orcas for a fry-up and the digestion of winter...
i rather **** time occupying the space in greenland
among the icy chinese known as eskimos;
i'd fit in among the føroyar kindreds... i love the doom & gloom
and hate the sun & tan of globalisation's adventures
with advertisements and juggling tourism
among terrorism's fictive narratives.
Eilis Ni Eidhin Jan 2015
Cramping legds their crying
Like the babes, lying
In their mothers' arms
What are the charms

Which parents ensnare
Like poisonous air
Be witched to reproduce
Nature's silent truce

Though you die you can live
Vicariously and give
What makes you, you
To another imbue

The train halts brakes squealing
Interlocking carriages feeling
Each other and the air
Signal lights stare

And the track opens up before us
Penelope Cruz
Used to muse
On the use
Of oversized microwave ovens
In the covens
Of Barcelona.

Give them their due
They know how to imbue
Broomsticks with fresh belladonna!
A Simillacrum Jul 2018
It was dark and day
the day I read the words came straight
from [redacted]'s brain placed upon
this coded page

Oh my delightful
bedstand book took the rope and pulled
from the poetry a noose
with which to cull

its zombie
body
infused
with life
only as
love peace
& pros
per
ity

[redacted],
imbue
me be
fore I
leave

O,
please
Coop Lee Apr 2014
the only thing i can explain, is loving you.

the only thing is dreaming.
is feeling, that wheeled feeling of knowing what love was.

it started with an awkward hug.
it ended with an awkward hug.


i took you to the river. held your hand to the washed and out. breathed the smoke of your body into lungs of new days and danced to thoughts of escaping the empire with you forever. so forever. waited while you biked into far-fetched and distance places. american girl. beautiful creature. creature tessellating; growing; enhancing into a starry-stepped woman. i leaned on you, made you stumble to walk. now most days i stop myself from calling you. the space. the only thing that ever made me so dizzy, so good, was the space between us when truly together. close. utterly as one. wrote poems about you before i even met you, like a dream girl, like a premonition, which you were, a dream girl, a preconceived notion of one and only love. and there probably will be none other. none other. because i fell in love with you long before i even knew how to say it. never really knew how to say it. blurted it. bled it and yelled it and dreamt of it endlessly.


[still dream of it. endlessly.]


slow down, slow town, taking minutes. city of trees. city of good and bad and a little love that grew and bloomed and boomed before our eyes and died. and perhaps dead isn’t enough. reanimate. zombify. walk the dead. the dead and idaho life is american dreaming, drunk. us humans walking, texting, breathing, dancing. i would pinch your ***, smack your ***, so silly, so object, so mammalian and animal and bad on my part. sorry about that. but then again i loved your ***. still, sorry. you deserved more. deserve more. more to the picture. and i love your smile. your deep sweep of happiness. could devour me whole with just one laugh. and this is all so stupid, you probably hate me by now, somehow, seeing as you disappeared into thin air and here i am writing this bombast of love lost and still plan on sending it to you by mail or carrier-pigeon in hopes of simply expressing something. texas chainsaw massacre 2. totoro and the miniature crystal glands of rips or roars or sour patch sprinkles. burnt underwear. that stream of consciousness sweet beating block of love you ink-stamped to old paper with some kind of fierce spirit, just love, i love, and can’t help but love you so ******* much all over and over again, even if you broke my heart. the heart is strong that way. or i am simply doomed that way.


howling. howl. imbue. rimbaud. & urizen. kien. class, and when we skipped a day or two, once or twice, to make-out by the river. true beginnings. rock piles and bonobos.
my kind of woman.

you loved me before anybody loved me.
and i loved you, because there was no other way.
lost that somewhere. somehow.
life and days taken for granted.
and i’m the fool.
the stoner peeling off layers of clothing
as i prepare to be blood-sacrificed before the ancient ones.
while you are the girl.
the girl who made me forget what death is.
the girl with that last blunt.

                   new soul, spelled in crayola crème.
                   new summer, spoken then lived.

                   you were the love
                   of my life.
                   plucked my heart like
                   squishy fruit.

                   we once turned night
                   into paintings & poems,
                   particulates of
                   a golden time gone by.
vircapio gale Mar 2013
below the eyelid-waves,
another iridescence grows.
currents blur the view in pentacles of light
to rhythms of the waning breath
--warping what an artist's vision yields,
the canvas of the mind stretched taut
in hues to coalesce the old and new,
absorb the intertidal volumes
with keener intake,
firmest diaphram to lift the pressure out
and sink into pelagic origins finally,
imbue myself poseidonal,
renew the birth of "love"

i am soaking with it,
open mouthed my cry is swallowed by the sea
i am a kracken echinoidea
******* up the floor
of life exchanging me with joy--
of jellyfish and snail,
burrowed shrimp, eyeful gobies,
clowns in their anemones--
my spires swirling clouds of green
to carpet spotted sky with verdant wake
and springing there,
from crest to crest,
a body undulating foam, it rolls voluptuous to swell
the bioluminescent instant... taken in the vast, full span of time...
to see her born here,
'mid dolphin song and symbol crash of tide
protuberance of shore awash in seeming pleasure of the rhythmic act--
alive the goddess comes, into her flesh--
to widen eyes,
re-establish channels to the heart
as if an aperture of cloud
were opening again,
to end an ancient overcast
and usher down to earth
the lance of starlight that would reach beyond the wrecks of ocean depth...

so too her visage strikes the darker corners of the heart
illumes all buried hopes
of bottom dwelling wretchedness,
and draws the tide above the line,
littoral tresses falling,
steep in pools calcareous and algal
worlds remaking worlds within the contours sexing there
imagined limestone in your many perfect forms,
marble softness swimming in my eyes
awaken appetites of newfound youth again.
the ochre lines that stripe along your curves
let hidden ripeness waft across my passion-eye
and with the grassy dunes i lie, doze in wrack at once--
as arches of my sight are pierced with rays of inner sun
my seabreath muse purveys, inhaled;
i would see you as you are entirely,
disperse myself into aesthetic mist,
become the spray on coastal loam
a sundog floating in and out of forms
become your mullusk lust;
sipuncula embrace of benthic dust
and slip along the textures
of your progenation's flood--
emerge as one and many lives
becoming me, this vision
in your suds, your divination's scree
--the salty rooting of the coastal trees,
the sand, the wave and moon
upon the dancing kelp forestal out at sea...
shining in the winking foam and symbiota sand.
crevice and the length of dyads simulating one,
phallus, *****, and none--
egg and **** bed..
diatoms  flourishing  again...
in you i am the ****** my own gestation obviates
i am effluxion of all lives in balance
on an ever-swaying crestline of irruptive suds--
diaphanous array upon your porous *****'s heave
weaving in and out, continuing to blur
in riven sight and empty heart to fill
the blood containing rapid urgency
to feed, to taste and seek its nourish-all
when after having given up the possibilities of love
and having worn the incompleteness raw,
the obverse affirmation cracks the sky...
at last they burst surreal into the now
and lacking practice courting glory
stumble over habits long attuned to falsities unveiled
and drawn into your undertow,
all cravings wrung into the novelty of merging without end--
arrive, horizonal, and echo from the dawn of being more than one




.
littoral: of or relating to the shore
wrack: masses of dried seaweed, kelp found on the beach
sipuncula: marine worms
benthic: relating to the bottom of a sea or lake or to the organisms that live there
diatoms: algae or phytoplankton essential to ecosystems
effluxion: a flowing outward
Butch Decatoria Jul 2018
Diminutive minutes fly by and imbue.

Ennobled, hungers the second hand.

Verbose and loud, its villainous ticking;

Oxen heavy, that kneading sound,

Under skull and depth of dreams.

Rescind the mad lives we vitiate;

Enchanted by hollow, fear of ghosts,

Dancing in a pitch waiting room.


Happenstance for insomniacs,

Ogres and dark shadows howling

Unapologetic at the light and moon.

Riot of the quiet, against daylight

Star: quarry in the void of night / time / dark.
Every single madness is in my soul,
and fires like t'ose of a tempestuous sea-
are but raging within me;
scratching and tearing
t'is faith of mine so badly
Behind t'ese livid; and torpid
Dull afternoon airs.
Ah, stupid reasons, please go away-
and stun thy own flimsy day
But leave every one of thy bright promise
about thee;
Oh, just here-yet eternally-
everything t'at is as superb
as t'is often-hated hysterical world.
But only th' ones with humbleness!
And before thou retreat-imbue my soul
with silky greatness once more;
As I shalt salute thy carelessness
No matter what shalt happen
But steal not my love out of me;
let him stay like t'at and sleep by me
Until our tales come and greet
Unmarred evenness
And I; dare to spread my sore heart lazily
Under yon distant umbrella
of our oblivious heavens.

I hath the volition to touch th' stars,
And perhaps dream, dream highly
all over again
Of regaining thy love,
and rolling suspiciously
about and into thy waiting arms,
under our liberated celestial blankets
of clouds and its surfaceless haze.
Which might now and then smirk at us;
But before our ignorance rigidly
retreat away; and vanish pallidly into
its own threads
of prim; but unforgivable vanity.
Ah! I shalt but forever dream again
of all yon awesomeness,
and insist on devouring th' tasteful
Ye' immortal madness of thy princedom.
I imagine thy touches-and t'ose feverish scents
of thy fingers, and lavish hands
Free of boredom, but tainted with wisdom
And being sunk deeply in thy justice
Which insofar as it hath been enabled-
been hovering deafeningly in and about me.
Ah! I shalt be th' first one, and maiden
Who maketh thy irresoluteness decisive,
and turneth thy doubtful precisions
once more submissive!
I shalt become thy torch, and lips,
and guiding star!
I shalt bear thy ******,
and be thy own earthly phantom;
Be with me shalt be thy candlelight;
which is as strong as envious daylight
and by whom I shalt remove thy fright
As far as my dreams go with th' night
And visit and fend for thee
In thy portrait
and thy invigorating dreams.
I shalt be thy surprise;
and be a companion to thy delight
As how I shalt seek
and glory in thy pleasure;
Be lost in thy pride
and feel merciful to be thy treasure
I shalt deprave thy greed of its life
and make to thy grave,
one most beloved, and conspicuous wife.
Ah, thou art too striking!
Thy stunning voice fills me with madness-
and shakes my spines from head to toe,
But kills my sorrow and burns my sadness,
cleanses up my sins and blesses me anew.
Thou befriendeth my pride;
and my atrocious passion;
thou listeneth to my heart
and rinseth tears off its horizon.

Ah! So no wonder now
My madness loses its pride-
Overriding pride, t'at at times
becomes pregnant with such arrogance
So t'at despised it is, even by divine spies
sent down to t'is earth by majestic Lord.
What a delight within me it is to see thee-
and watch another brimful
of thy laughter-ah; thou art as captivating
as a little red-cheeked boy
Who sanguinely greeted me
Down th' farms
With a flow of madly auburn hair,
and smiles as agreeable
as t'at morn's bashful sunny air.
Ah, thou, who art even more adorable
than t'is lurid poem of mine;
stained with th' red colour-as it is,
of my own madness-and a tenacious judgment
of my senses,
T'ese merry dreams of thee are but too vicious
As they make me sweet-unbearably sweet,
in th' entire course
Of yon upcoming flirtatious night;
and tease me most whenst I'm awake
with loving chills so painstakingly crafted
about my face.
O, my lover!
My equanimious, long-sought, and
Sagitarius lover!
Thy naive, but sweet-spirited soul,
is as cheerful and frank;
but troublesome and scanty still
And within one terrific; yet ubiquitous
blink of th' hungered eye
Thou shalt sweep and slay away again;
my rigid; whilst disconcerted, charms.
And so how is at heart I am dreamily-
ye' desperately dedicated to thee;
Though far I am from thee-
as how thou defiantly-from me;
And so never may we sing-or argue in unison;
To utter neither choruses; nor grouped ballads
of marriage;
Dreams are but our sole tower and maze;
And morns all over th' earth, our single haste.

And such! Such a gaze of thine
Is addictive to me like white whine
For 'tis forever my melancholy tyranny;
In my selfish world-full of picturesque indignation
And its dearest remorse
and tranquil superfluity.
Birds t'at never fly;
And lilies t'at might not die-
ah, so after all cautious,
but in every way immortal-like thee;
Snoring and aging in thy deathless foreverness;
In which there art profoundly thou and I-
And I with my repentant dead soul
Unfreed yet of its cherry-like buds
Reeking of fascinated; yet disheartened
Longings; and horrors t'at
Unrevealed love canst soullessly take
Out its mortal mouth and sunless tongue-
From which my dissatisfied spirit
ain't bound ever to jump and awake.

Ah, but after all-all t'is suffering
and disruptive madness,
My corrupted freedom all along
shalt find justice
And whole confidentiality
In thy soul;
So t'at let me feel lethargic on thy shoulder
And rest my dishevelled mind for a while.
Perhaps, thou could let me sing t'at silent song
Whilst our dear God fixes everything
t'at hath gone wrong;
and imaginations and joy
t'at have been thrown away
shalt find every single way back of theirs
Into th' secure cage of love, within our souls.
Ah, and betwixt thy indolence
Shalt I laugh again;
For th' at length victories and images
so startling,
and pictures I am thankful of;
for they were formed so adequately
by thy stupendous name.
Ah, and immortality-yes, so which
shalt always be thy name;
With such frame and glory
trapped so idly within whose frame-
Like an odd; but fruitful summer game;
Within which I shalt ever thrive,
and civilly flourish;
Just like in thy love I shalt grow and live
And to our very last breath, rejoice.
SelfOfTheDivine Mar 2016
Furnace is dead, cogs have stopped turning.
With all destroyed, my workshop is gone.
Against me my own creations he has been using.
With everyone killed and dead, I have been left alone.

Master of the science of steel,
So strong and with a gifted arm,
With power so great even, still
To evil I could do no harm.

I can't fight it
Can't beat it
Defeat it
Can't shield those
I have loved with such pride
Will the world have respite?

I won't rest 'till I make the greatest blade:
A sword with the power to tear the skies!
The greatest that Man has ever made:
One that will bring tears to the gods' eyes.

I will steal the essence of the Sun!
And with the power of a nova
Will imbue it. When it will be done,
Then the darkness will be over.

I will weld it
And mold it
And hone it
And hold it
Hold it ever so tight
A sword of burning light!

But, still, even with such a lofty sword,
How could I fight the evil that has crept
Into our lives? No, I must find its true lord:
The Hero that the sword will truly accept.

I must not succumb to its call, its lure!
This sword's destiny must not be tainted
By any unworthy hand - to make sure
That from evil the world will be mended.

I won't steal it
Will seal it
Conceal it
And only reveal it
When the time will be right
May the stars be my guides...

After the longest of journeys, following gods' will,
It has finally been revealed, finally been shown:
The visage of the metallic daughter of Steel,
The only that is worthy for this sword to own.

Made by the man who ended all I have loved,
With eyes grim, under slavery of the dark,
With snideness, back to me my sword she had shoved:
"Why shouldn't I melt its greatness for its parts?"

Will you refuse it
And diffuse it
And discard it
Disregard it
Your duty to wield all of its might
To undo the wrong that once was right?

Take courage to your heart, fair soldier!
And listen to me as I will say it thus:
Stand firmly before a mirror and just stare her
In the eyes, as those eyes do scream: "Liberate us!"

Take the word of an inventor and a swordsmith:
Leave the world of comfort where things are nice and fine.
In your heart there'll be a fire forever lit,
If you will only believe: "The power is mine!"

You will fight it
And beat it
Defeat it
Complete the
Conquest of your greatest fright
You will travail through the night!
Written from 13th to 22nd of March 1E 2016.

Dedicated to K.F.
I first felt the ferrous fissures
Delivering shivering quivers
Down my spine
As each chime took the light
Outside of our present days

Then the shakes grew into tension
My naked, sobering suspension
Was left never to mention
Nor whisper what I needed to say

And when I asked you of this
You withdrew so quick
I only had time to trace the lines
Of your escaping shadow

Holding on to tentative strings
And all the small things
You left for me to find
The same gray forests of signs
And silent ways

Designs you used to craft and convey
With clever ease
Laughter beseeching my thoughts
Silence now haunting my dreams
They are now presently looming
Cold coniferous trees

It's not as if I can pretend
Like simply taking paper and pen
Could possibly remedy this
When I have to look down forever
At the ink staining my foot, leg, and wrist
I'm convinced that I created this fate
Because it seems in this picture frame
I'm the one who made a mistake

You carry the hate in your heart
like it's been priveleged to you

My misgivings have now adopted
the persona that I imbue

I faced the other way as we faded
when you withdrew

You suffer daily
and face this struggle alone

Claiming everybody abandoned you
and did you wrong

But you don't lose me
Like I've told you all along
"Smashing, watch the glass fly
Ain't no way, ain't no way you can go back
Float away, float away, float away yeah
We're frozen in this moment
Ain't no way, ain't no way you can go back
Float away, float away, float away yeah"
Ellen Bee Sep 2013
He only imbibes because of his dipsomania.
She only practices onanism because she's afraid he'll impregnate her.
He despises her monomania.
She's too affable, almost to the point of being obsequious.
He's too acrimonious and muzzy.
She knows she's a bit of a coquette.
He thinks he's a cuckold.
She used to be flighty until she fell into this convoluted dystopia.
He used to find it scintillating to get sozzled.
She just wants a lark once in a while.
His iniquity makes him want her to be lascivious.
Her every fatuity leads to a cabal.
He's too opaque and insipid.
She has to iterate and reiterate everything she says.
He feels his infatuation is unrequited.
She finds this unproblematic.
He doesn't imbue her with anything anymore.
She thinks he's unpitying of that.
He'll malinger tomorrow.
She'll wonder if it's all adventitious or kismet.
She can't handle his odium.
He can't stand her ten dollar words.
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2018
.university was such a bad idea... i'm starting to think... isn't university the place where only women and rapists are admission worthy?! forget the men... you're on your own!

              gorgeous lisp...
Fionna
from Fraserburgh...
worked in
a nightclub to
pay for a mandolin,
and play her maggie may...
outside her window...
her sweetness imbue of
honey and the letter G
stumbling into a "stutter"....
and?
one detail...
she loved
queen's innuendo...
the ooh ooh bit
and the otherwise
Spanish rodrigo
in-between composer...
i left Edinburgh...
because my heart was
not into it...
  my eyes were...
but in my heart...
    i was not standing on
an island, but an iceberg...
       too many English
private school educatde kids...
too much interconnected
meritocracy bargains...
said via grandfather earned
ditto position through
the connectivity of his, father's
father...
   no...
              i won't have that
*******... hanging before
me like a carrot, while
i play the donkey...
  sorry... no...
    shouldn't have lied
about your mother being your sister,
and your grandmother being
your mother...
     then?!
Leningrad would
have made sense!
thankfully?
        it still doesn't!
and doubly thankful for it
that i am, in saying:
it, never, will!
vamsi sai mohan May 2015
"I age an eternity a moment,an eternity that is fleeting in a moment and you imbue the impermanence with your seraphic presence."

I am sitting under this tree whose leaves sway in circles like my memories fading into myself;
yet alone a few memories resist this disintegration,resisting the frailty of the life.one of those memories whispers your voice and how you said "father,I have a wish",the tone sweeter than the voice of the ocean,when you are about to sleep and it's your bed-time story for me,you continue saying,"I want to live in the sky and be an angel who floats on the clouds,when I want to swing I would bend the rainbow into the oonjal and with every swing I hit the clouds so hard that it becomes so ecstatic and produces a roar.when I want to come to the earth,I come like a lightening which tickles the earth....."
I love how you sleep in the middle of the story and how your voice slowly disintegrates into the silence like how you didn't say "now I take this sound and whisper it in this ear and you are going to bury in your heart, this sound that emanated from me and buried in you could resonate with billion galaxies".

Do you remember this is the tree under which we used to play with the mud,you used to pour the water in the sand and cover the leg with the mud till the ankle and staunch it immobile for a certain period and when you suddenly remove the foot,it assumes the shape of your foot which looks like igloo.I love how you break the igloos that is when you try to fit your head in to its mouth in the obliviousness that it would break because your head is too big to fit in,I love how the specks of silt get struck in the strands of your hair.

Every subtle detail here becomes enormously exquisite and with every utterance I am drowned with the memories to a point of singular abstract thought.perhaps in the next life,I wish to born as your child because I want to spend my childhood in your lap,I have to live those moments when you lift me up and put me on your shoulders and pat my head till I sleep,that is the part of my life in which I have missed you and I will claim and live it....

I still remember reading your short story and the male character in the story says something like "there is no brightness without darkness and you are the darkness,perhaps when you die,the sun,the moon and the stars would miss their light shedding upon you,but I am the one who will be devoid of the darkness that which creates the very ambience for this life,that which creates this inimitable life..."I wonder what it means sometimes and what made you to think to write something like that,that which produces an inseperable thought..and I think I am too old now to contemplate on what it means......


The tree and I sit on this light-shed early morning ,I think every particle of light which is reflecting from me now shares my memory,so I suppose I spread this reminiscence all over this place,all that is seen and unseen shares our memories....it baffles me at the very thought that every experience we indulge in reflects on the very existence itself.... I take your voice wherever I go and live,it's like a plugin to my heart and you always whisper from within me,even now,It's 6:30 now and I hear you saying "close your eyes",I close my eyes and fade into the echoes of your voice.transcedence.

"She is like a lightening passing now through me like a tickle and so do I perceive every form of limitation as a transcendence..."
PoetWhoKnowIt May 2013
Ingénue, Ingénue
mellifluous intonation;
within my ear
intangible embrocation!

Emollient to my inure
lithe and lilt affections-
A panacea, a talisman
fetching provocation.

Ingénue, Ingénue
Why must you fall
into such fugacious
dalliances?

Becoming and comely
are you
The cynosure of men
dissembling by demure

Ingénue, Ingénue
how easily I imbue
sempiternal scintilla
into naive little you

Lo, during my brooding-
arrive in halcyon gambol,
Dulcet or Saccharine
Is it me or you?

Ingénue, oh Ingénue
an epiphany, so true
a furtive labyrinthine
past the offing of you

None so opulent
cast more than penumbra.
T'would simply be Pyrrhic
to go on, continue.
Someone once told me my vocabulary was lacking... so I started writing poems to remember words.
Ingénue - a naive young woman
mellifluous - Sweet sounding
intonation - inflection
intangible - unable to be touched or grasped
emborcation - to apply a lotion
emollient - a softening agent
inure - to become jaded
lithe - slender and flexible
lilt - move musically or lively
panacea - solution to all problems
talisman - a good luck charm
fetching - pretty
fugacious - fleeting
dalliances - short love affair
cynosure - focus of admiration
dissembling - deceive
demure - shy and reserved
imbue - instill, infuse
sempiternal - eternal
scintilla - a small spark
brooding - thinking alone
halcyon - happy, care-free
gambol - to skip or leap about joyfully
dulcet - sweet or sugary
saccharine - overly or sickishly sweet
epiphany - sudden realization
furtive - sneaky
offing - area of ocean between horizon and offshore
opulent - lush, luxurious
penumbra - half-shadow
Pyrrhic - victory but with heavy losses
Maieutic dreamer, the ecstatic euphorias of cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix are pandemic.  Extravagant exorbitances of flirtatious flamboyance and flippantly flighty flit-ness.  But what of stint-ness snities?  Excruciating exacerbations of laboriously beleaguering hypercritically meticulous tediums.   Synaptic syntax is fervently intense like a feral phrenic frenzied ****.  Ruminating humanity’s collective consciousness gives me hysterical deliriums.  We’re frenetically febrile, atrociously impetuous impudents who don’t know our id conclusion from our impromptu innuendo juncture.  And what of the organizational principles of our subconscious continuums?  Do we only dream about dexterous articulation?  Can we become the agile acuity we envision or do we wallow in the drifty drivel of dour droll’s dreary?  What’s to phatic say about futurity fatidic’s forlorn wanton?  We need chutzpah, moxie savvy’s panache.  Is there no such thing as a universally acceptable ontological deontology?  Probity is as obvious as due yesterday, ethology’s entelechy the omnipresent reward.  Elan vital is not subjective, it’s objective.  Explicating epiphanies of social contiguity’s prospectus so innate as to be irrefragable.  Not perhaps the oligarchies of eclectic synectics, but perhaps the pugnacious audacities of emote to exude aimed imbue.  Assay relay’s convey, foray delay purveys inveigh.  Perhaps if we are all cogently fecund with our vituperatively vociferous the holocaustial cacophony of our obstreperously abstruse will be just what the grotto grouch gumption ordered.  Infusing all with the capability of  aspiring to higher powers and yet not forgetting the mystery of self and others.  I know I know what an ingratiating sycophant on the introjection.  Gambits of alluvium aloof impunity when we all know immunity is Epicurean absurdity, but I already covered that on the phrenic aimed holocaustial cacophony.  Seriously of we all enunciate so on the diction of mesomerism's to punctual.  Why can’t that be the essence of accidence ambience acoustics, the arbitrational attenuation of actuator's aorist.  We are not ethereal, we are corporeally preternatural and the sooner we all learn to respect each other to that the sooner we can get down to the sublimely surreal in oneiromancy’s apotropaic panaceas.
A dream I had about explicating eventuation evocative's expletives.  The amalgamated anathema android.  The cure for pseudopodia interruptus.  At those plastygoop nosed gumby ******* ***** mongers.  Teleportation's telepathic tout will augur the demise of the shallow water scrod ******* dogs.  Carousel ceaselessly ceremony chaos character charisma.  Enigma entity's identity crisis on the futurity fatidic.  Grimacing gremlin greaves and gauntlets gamut catalyst abstracts.
Judgson blessing Jun 2015
king Cophetua and Beggar Maid is inspired of the painting of Sir Edward Burne-Jones (1884 , England ) the painting run about an old legend of king that found that his love for Beggar Maid was greater than anything his possess : wealth and power . In that painting of Burne-Jones , the king Cophetua was moon stroke of the beauty of a Beggar Maid ,instead of her naked appearance in regard to this earthing consideration  , though he was allured by her state and deemed the Beggar Maid  would trade her natural beauty upon worldly elevation .But anemones was thrown about around the Beggar Maid standing . Anemone is the sign of refused love , to the king most astonishment and great deceit .Here lain the elevation of love above all thing consideration ; wealth , power and others .the painting also ran another significant meaning to Sir Edward Burne-Jones : its an undercurrent self resentments about chaos upon Frances Graham , a lady he was so devoted that got married one year earlier the painting .


What beauty , did behold a lady .
for what a fame completely shadowy.
lo, in dim recess of England a lady did dwell .
from head to toe a feature exquisitely so well .
her face is the panorama of crimson hue .
with dimple and frown so divinely imbue .
she is effigy of the culmination of word beauty .
peeping her through day long ; you will never feel thirsty.
all her face is settled in heavenly attire of smile .
for her possession of beauty is unique worldly simile .
her body had the mark of excellent work of art .
no nymph , no fairy could possess her frame impart .
princess of heaven ,celestial beauty of holy attire .
for your rendition of beauty a painter worship at your retire .
a smile ; radiant and blatant a devotion of all thing heavenly .
a couple of lips very in regular design , most delicate  work of father holy.
the short up turn of the upper golden lip in rosy glow .
with lower lip so justly fitted as lid and bowl .
nay it deemed the most work of legendary painter hand .
but now what a glorious gait of cadence did withstand .
where in remotest antique could we withheld such beauty ?
from head to toe all the feature luridly in unity .
little upwards the average height with magnificent bearing .
her arms and legs proportionally fitted in good caring .
the neck is culmination of adjusted rings darting as snake .
when she depart all her part spring like a dance at music .
slim and fitted with fitting body as a young mutated snake .
but i warrant all thing upon her hip jingling spring like .
her look naked you and everything with impure world .
well begrounded as reflex through giant mirror .
meeting with her personality is a kind of celestial discovery.
like discovery of a gold pit or gas gush in desert of misery .
she betoken of kind of aura that prevails peace .
but Beggar she was at her secluded place .
with a smile she attracts but beg worldly sympathy .
not a corrupted heart or soul she believe in the holy trinity .
what a beauty to wasted but in shameful mendicancy .
the sagacious spirited dimly alluded with grin .
for all the hole tandem dwelt but in rich lustrine .
the quantity is the mother of all pain and sin .
but chastity is holy devotion all in pure spiriting .
oh, what good for us if we just live in nothing but lust .
money, fame and other elevations are vile and endless lost .
pure beauty you behold with pure noble spirit .
rich or poor do only one thing :run away from ignominy .
the Beggar Maid was sitting upon her recess and shadowy .
lo, trodden king Cophetua back of horse of finely white garb .
and riding sat majestically ***** like state pole in richly parade.
perfume and the richness of articulation stole through and filled the momentum .
with guards and valet finely polite and alerted at the extremum .
what a cadence ! what a sight ! as heaven trotting herd .
but lulled in mostly attire and paraded mostly in gold .
with a look the purest radiant and the noblest ever been .
nothing but a grandeur and riches were what to be seen .
settled on horse so holy that was moved as not touching the soil .
king Cophetua trotted and commanded but with moderate majestic control .
beheld with the Beggar Maid that beauty was a heavenly allure .
halt he made and laid his feet on ground with real frantic gesture .
in obsequious and excess real gesture drove to his knees .
and held altogether ***** airy and up tall .
upon the King procession on his knees the Maid took on in respect.
with stature all slanted flat across the ground all beaming in light .
what grandeur or glory fitted before the Maid most alluring ?
nay,fame ,riches ,noble , power ,cunning nor learning .
all but are subjected and tamed ,transformed into nothing.
king Cophetua is a glory ,but pure beauty is holy not a thing stand pure beauty.
for the worship of our splendor is the betoken kind spiritually .
the Beggar Maid is a right down deprived and seemed a cursed sin .
but pure beauty beholds with pure resplendent holy garden .
what life led you through ?behold there is no wealth down here more your soul .
and you are diving in filthy abode and lamenting your spirit in foul .
nay, beauty keep out of lust and covetousness and preserve your spirit .
cause none ,but only you will stand when is the last verdict .

the maid garbed in silken attire float so soft and dainty .
king Cophetua in his mighty clad covered with gold is holy .
i seen you are a beauty , entreated he in lowest musical resonant voice .
and i deemed make you you the praise of my ever unique choice .
yet before God and before mortal i would worship you as holy throne .
the Maid as voice as lute and lyre sang but in sweet musical tune .
my King im as much obliged though unworthy servant of your kingdom .
all the honor is for me ,and upon my foil state is for me a bloom .
my honor is regardless said he ,i fain treat you as an equal .
now deign tell me what can i do to you cause i feel towards you loyal .
glory be to Lord !for you philanthropic reverence my Lord .
for i need nothing more but, 'give me today my daily bread '.
appalled but aghast upon the Maid humble and unequivocal demand .
he stretched ***** in mournful and sad air of command .
and took quite survey of the Maid that is nothing but pretty creature .
for his wildness dreams he never seen such purity upon his pasture .
yet abashed with the Maid demand ,a lesson of life of great enormity .
something somehow weird and unusual stroke him about the Maid personality.
but he restated once more i feel hearty and  kind towards you then .
you might tell me that you need in life now and then .
and sat ***** fancying himself of new pleasant answer .
oh King retorted the latter i had formulated my need .
for faith under and heaven above i have no greed .
nettled he settled his curled hair back thrown .
and so should it be as you but did deem .
and nothing but here receive a dime .
Tonya Cusick Mar 2013
This is a bitter hallucination.
A group of love longers and constellations,
that fill and **** my heart.
If it was only I could touch the sky,
feel the wind as I start to fly,
higher and higher,
I dare to go.
Just to descend graciously to the ground and show that I'm no stranger to the lengths that I go.
Have mercy on me,
on my tantalized heart..
you were just a fixation, a hallucination.
You had me by every word,
every curve of you swaying,
as if the motion was made by angels.
if love is a noose then I am the hangman,
hanging there effortlessly,
with life no longer ripe upon my cheek.
Only the angelic voice of my hearts true beholder with held the mellifluous tone of my broken days.
I grimace at the thoughts that lead me to believing in your leechy ways.
The grotesque touch of your filthy ****** hands on mine making me cringe and imbue nothing but the shame of falling in love with a hallucination.
A bitter-sweet,
traumatizing,
hallucination.
Devin Ortiz Jun 2016
I've been meaning to write
The time comes when whirlwinds
Words churning in the mind
Begin to babble their own tales

In absence of a pen
Collecting words and rhythms
Like the swear jar in my youth
So I'm in need of inspiration

Of course, today was not my day
I lost my favorite hat
The hat in my mind  which would
Imbue my words with fever

A cold glass to calm me down
Drink in the summers eve
Nature always puts me in the mood
To freely write my thoughts away

And then it began to rain
She is my lover, but not today
Things have not gone my way
Its pouring and I hate it
Aspen S Jan 2016
It's hard to love someone who can't low you
Even when their eyes outshine the sun's rays
And how the warmth of your skin likes to imbue
Through your skin upon those delicate veins

Even when their eyes outshine the sun's rays
My love for you was so contagious, it grew
Through your skin upon those delicate veins

My love for you was so contagious, it grew
We rose way above the mountain peaks, but it was far too overdue
No matter what, our love musn't go ablaze
I loved You like flowers love the pouring rain

We rose way above the mountain peaks, but it was far too overdue
And now, I have to deal with how you never knew
I loved you like flowers love the pouring rain
The way the ocean is greeted by the tides waves

And now I have to deal with how you never knew
How the warmth of your smile likes to imbue
The way the ocean is greeted by the tides waves
Its hard to love someone who can't love you
©
~amanda
i am so sorry if this poem *****..... I didn't really like this one...
Extra...extra...Trumpasaurus Extinction

(Only a pipe dream)
Obsolete "FAKE" news
Extra...extra...Trumpasaurus Extinction,
Now Putin Rules As De Facto Leader!

Pastor Of Muppets – shout huzzah...
no mo' Trump he's Gone er re: ya
especially “father figure” for Miss Piggy
-----------------------------------------------------------­----
More'n a ***** dozen deeds done dirt cheap moon units ago
since presidential election took us down the highway to hell  
emotional, social repercussions still reverberate
how reprobate Trump triumphed

graduating magma *** lug head
to become leader of free world
acing highest score (via cribbed cheat sheet)
per Electoral College examination.
noah yam aghast (still feel nauseated) as
Donald trump got nominated president elect,

or more apropos an inept apprentice,
though a teetotaler delirium tremens,
brings corporeal bris
ling foretelling premonition
oven approaching crisis
as one basket of deplorable,

whose shell shocked eggs ess
tints did not peter out
re: fate rigged 2016 election appalled hike con fess
at prospect outsize bully nabbed
most sought after house seat - ugh guess

thine psyche fearful that arrogance, indecency,
pomposity, and vivacity will break ranks and restore Hess
shun militaristic modus operandi crowning himself
King Kong of amerika - applauded
by a *** dread locked Klansmen less
or more, with spirit of a jolly roger intent

shredding sacred documents, and creating a mess;
ages will require to restore righteous, and officious,
amazing gracious steeped ford did legacy
of forefathers and mothers
(against trump driving the country
into wah hell in a hand basket),

which democratic rubric Paine stay king lee
easel lee trampled oh press
sieve lee in sync with missteps
made during on the job training

at national ex pence augments ominous
ramping up of tess toss tear roan,
wherefore if happenstance finds Czech mated express
train tearing down the tracts,
we the people of the United States might vouchsafe
for a veep ping Petsmart prodigy to take over - YES!
-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -
Reince Priebus promises to hold sway,
while hi yam rez hind tune augur
race shin, more than approximately 300 hours ago,
a fate worse than death doth bode

despite hangover lingering effect
unable to shake mice elf sober
despite chugging nary an ale
memory summons back,

hide dashed hoof well-healed poem express
sing reaction while shuttered in me man cave dale
how Democratic Party did fail
to clinch nomination,

thus with measured words this male
wants to air and share his non-rapacious sentiments
others no doubt harbor various
seas sinned reactions that might pale

in terms - their private tear ring expressions
explicitly rant and rail against unexpected
and unacceptable result, where scale
of moderation heavily tilted
toward possible global travail

armaments stacked as thee Barron doth un veil
bombardiers carpet bomb
(whoops....accidentally kilt Trump heathen)
while manning his Taj Mahal casino gun whale.
-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -
-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -
ABOUT ONE MILLENNIUM LATER
-  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -
what cha red back in history class i.e. yes...
that traitorous treacherous treasonous tale,
but truth told since time immemorial
whom sever decreed demise
of terrible lizard beasts aye

moost upend long entrenched theory,
and bid good bye
sans foursquare extinction reeks foul,
cuz one pea brained reptilian

o’er shadowed all as fiercest, he ranged free
amidst a cut throat rogues gallery
thee unnamable overlooked
sinister species sought supremacy

(gamut of miniature game pieces
model available at sundry department stores
wherever schlocky plastic model toys sold)
popular trapping of childhood imagination –

imbue vainglorious ventriloquist
inciting fiendish cry
such kiddy paraphernalia
forever a top selling plaything
snapped off shelves leaving allocated space bone dry.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Since time immemorial dinosaur makeshift gewgaws
did cap cha ominous jaws,
and populated fertile land of cave dwellers
whereat swaddled kinder babes bellowed believable
farcically feigned ferocious fabrications foraging bankrupt

foretold foreclosure to espy real McCoy
perhaps assembled from mud, rocks and sticks
noisome predators snatching
voice some innocent prey  -

ripping to tatters and shreds
unlucky victim rarely escaping
in fizz hicks of time – witnessed first hand proof positive
how I came that close (pinch thumb with index finger)

simian snack aye haint fool’n witch cha,
nar doth this medieval troubadour –
spin a yarn approximating
verity of nasty Hobbesian brute

trumpeting fiercely bruited
his bombastic buzz hard
carrion feed small fry to Golgotha donning topface,
could dice in a flickr emulate, and twitter

rang one excited live hotmail riding Pegasus,
while those in his Isis Petsmart warpath
on outlook to avoid get linkedin,
per imp (of the pervert) pale’n maws

simultaneously masticating and able to shutterfly
hither and yon, to and fro rousing
seditious twittering rogues gallery
of reprobate ruthless minions -

ruminants to become  apprenticed
fired up en mass thru the art of the deal
vis a vis venal pet peeves
pygmy male hominids revered
his racially stirred debacle

while straddling as a humungous towering hill,
he pill or reedlike lex Lucifer usurpation,
whence auld dish diehard don nah sore
dominated as demented species,

thus, he didst not perish from this earth
boot yielded rubric of emperor by the peep hole,
four the pea pull, of the peep pill.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
This older ville lad spurs rumor -
more than just food for thought or eating crow
does generate quite a wishful after thought to flow
whence sum divine

wind blown comedic act, an inflow
of furies rise from Dante's hell - don bell low
aye wood pine fate to hammer
sic culled swathed headline oh
brings joy to the world wide webbed land,

where Rob zombie i.e. Ivan Ca Rho
into dustbin of hiss tory;
stuffing of legions of legends
recollection and object lesson to hooligans woe
full derelicts, who might be forced
to cease clowning around like - bo Zoë.
ryn Feb 2016
Today bears the weight of erstwhile trepidation.
Uncertainties exhumed only to be hung up as ominous flags.
Black as night my widowed heart paraded through the procession.
Garbed in ash encrusted, sequinned frock, hemmed train all tattered in rags.

Herald the face with no features yet obscured behind a chiffon veil.
In hands, a bouquet of black roses, worm-eaten to the stems.
The mourning sun only gave the weakest glow,
feeble attempt to rejuvenate all that is stale;
to imbue the shimmer back into forsaken jewels and dulled gems.

Her entourage kept up with heavy feet; all grim and sullen.
Also faceless... Armed with pitchforks and torches.
Today they will draw much; having thirst for crimson.
Today they witness her death as the black parade marches.
Inspired by My Chemical Romance's "Welcome to the Black Parade".
Mo Oct 2010
A yank around the branch for an unripe banana tree

makes for peels at the tears; an aggrandized detainee.

In three proper pieces, breathing spiff in the fog,

split flat on the soil,  in an envelope of slog,

it doesn't really matter because

nobody knows but you.

It only really matters when

the answer is ubiquitous.

A pupil to imbue

labradoritic hues

will disagree to acquiesce

and suffuse bleeding happiness.
God bless the woman,
God bless the queen,
An Angel,
Whose immeasurable services,
Are never appreciated,
A varied flower,
Which decorates the world,
And makes life,
Worth living,
A being,
That is just another way,
Of making another being,
God bless her.


You are so many things,
In one,
As much as you are one,
In so many things,
Daughter, sister,
Mother, wife,
Comforter, consoler,
To mention,
But just a few,
And an irreplaceable extension,
And conduit,
To man,
You are some unique kind,
Of symbolic,
And unbending sanctity,
A conspicuous epitome,
Of courage,
And encouragement,
As confirmed among other items,
By the pain,
You endure in labour,
But not minding,
To go through it,
Again and again,
And again.


Man,
Can only imagine how it feels,
To carry an unknown live object,
In your body,
In the darkest,
And most precarious waters,
Of humanity,
Changing your living habits,
Owing to a vacuumed unknown,
Incognizant of what to expect,
At the end of the long,
Tiresome wheelbarrow push,
A snake or a lion,
A murderer or a saviour,
A ******* or a nun,
A president or a dissident,
A Mugabe or a Mandela,
Yes,
All these,
Came out of your generous belly,
And made you to sweat,
Scream,
Writhe and wince,
In burning,
And torturous agony.


You are peripatetic,
And ubiquitous,
A convincing symbol,
Of unfailing love,
Infact,
Love personified,
You imbue pride in us,
And our children,
And a very infectious sense,
Of longing and belonging,
Mother of man,
And woman,
Mother of the station,
Mother of the ration,
Mother of the nation.


Your heart is soft,
Like your breast,
And is fraught,
With forgiveness,
And care,
Despite that,
Some of your sisters,
And daughters,
Engage in heartless,
And heinous baby dumpings,
And others,
****** our innocent,
And defenceless unborns,
Fathers,
And mothers of tomorrow.


Like us with the sun,
You fall and rise with us,
Feeding us,
And fostering us,
When we are sick,
Having sleepless nights,
When our progeny are unwell,
While we snore,
And dream of fake riches,
A literal pregnant mine,
You really are,
Rich and abundant,
In love for us,
And a very nourishing fluid,
For our young offspring,
An offspring you strive to nurture,
Even single-handedly.


But nevertheless,
We cheat on you,
And lie to you,
With absolute uniqueness,
We abuse you,
Belittle you,
And inhumanely eviscerate you,
We make you our slaves,
And regard you,
As being beings with no rights,
Nights and tights,
Days and bays,
Yet,
No matter how much,
We subjugate you,
Or how diabolic,
We treat you,
You continue to love us,
May God bless you,
On earth and in heaven.
                                                 ________

“If I could have it my way, everyday would be women’s day” - Dr Noah Marutlulle
JP Goss Sep 2013
What of exactly is a friendship lost?
Over minute trifles so easily tossed?
Or one that disbands in the cataract of Time?
Something worth pain and blood? Which is absolute and wonderful?
And so, too, can it be asked,
To which man is authority given,
Of such astute austerity endowed,
The man to pass such judgment in good faith and conscience,
Is none other than the crowd.
But, irrelevancies, I totter!
The worst is to be discussed,
For far beyond the scope of reason,
Have these travesties been concussed.
For here, I give to you the corpse of this bond,
This once turgid child of innocence
So, perhaps, its unadulterated substance may quickly manifest
Yet, I pray, I hope, I wonder, its marred and tattered mien profess
The noxious tonic it did consume,
Of ancient spleen and venomous ardor,
To rend its former pulchritude, to hands of untouched fury placed,
It suffered the most insufferable fate to befall upon any beast:
To reanimate, to thrive, to live once more,
In the hands of a tyrant and aimlessly exist
Necrotic at its very core.
This beast, this creature of hated stock,
Was my burden, my cross, to bear,
One, I weep to recollect, of part and parcel of my own flock.
But, I did this, I bore this, along with many others,
In spite of righted timbers,
In spite of rationale,
In spite of my fiber and moral code, that kept us forcibly constrained
For the sake of you, authority
For the sake of tranquil minds
I stood obstinate at the lineaments, between those contrasting foes,
In the self-imposed, childish Purgatory,
Completely indisposed.
Between the shining, gleaming face of holiness, and precipice of spite
For manner of serenity and cowardice perpetual,
Confronted this creature, I did not,
For the sake of you, dear authority, for the sake of stable place.
Children we were, yes, but no less severe the gravity,
For the winnowing of unity, at the yoke of caprice, is to blame.
A real friendship will endure, endure through the boreal,
Endure through the malice, the vitriol,
Will breathe new and longing appetite for breadth, for universality,
Of which all parts must maintain accountability.
It must stand resolute no matter how formidable the ballast,
It must be calm, objective, and outlast the harrowing feelings change may accompany,
Will sacrifice and encourage wellbeing,
It must imbue recollection, a past so beautiful,
Be a comfort in the presence of shame and humility,
Its essence, a friend itself.
But I can no longer pay, at the cost of sanity,
I can no longer give what little remnant humanity to forge another bond,
One made of dead and long-forgotten parts,
I can not, I will not,
I am sick, I am weary for all of the injustices I have done
To watch as the seed of hatred continues to bloom,
The veil of falsehood walk without shame,
To see her stride of perverting intent, tainting the world with touch,
Is a miserable folly to me,
A crime which I let permit,
A coward I was to not stop this, to not lay this matter to rest,
No,
My beleaguered hands put this evil in the ground, and left it to the tides of fate,
It grew, beyond my capture, beyond my strength to control,
Into this horrid ****, this miserable plant,
Which, still!, it grows sans disannul
To take responsibility to this, on me, I cannot err
But, naturally, none to the plant, it seems,
And this is only fair.
Aspen S Jan 2016
It's hard to love someone who can't low you
Even when their eyes outshine the sun's rays
And how the warmth of your skin likes to imbue
Through your skin upon those delicate veins

Even when their eyes outshine the sun's rays
My love for you was so contagious, it grew
Through your skin upon those delicate veins

My love for you was so contagious, it grew
We rose way above the mountain peaks, but it was far too overdue
No matter what, our love musn't go ablaze
I loved You like flowers love the pouring rain

We rose way above the mountain peaks, but it was far too overdue
And now, I have to deal with how you never knew
I loved you like flowers love the pouring rain
The way the ocean is greeted by the tides waves

And now I have to deal with how you never knew
How the warmth of your smile likes to imbue
The way the ocean is greeted by the tides waves
Its hard to love someone who can't love you
I am truly sorry if this poem *****. I am not very good at it...
Maya Caroline Dec 2012
You are a room with no corners.
A cynosure within my mind’s eye.
Ineffable emotions you imbue in me.

I am restless for your

touch

skin

smile.

I feel a penumbra of your spirit trailing behind every step I take;
grateful for your petrichor effect at the ending of my days.

Untoward emotions
cascading and clashing
knocking me down

each and every time
you loom into my mind.

— The End —