"immersion" poems
Dearest Destined Jewel,
Of longest heartfelt yearning, Bestow on thee, Hamlet awaits, Ophelia picking flowers, Magnolia branches speaking, Beautifications of Spring.
Supreme buds of new life, Magnoliaceae of Queen bees, An enterprise of wonder, Symbolic child's enchanted play, Faeries in flight whisper attractions, Fondness, Les fleurs du mal.
Ample blossoms, Bosoms of delight, Devouring light, Little birds sing, Nestling, Chirping a languishing cacophony, Blissful unawareness, Nature nurture the soul.
A slip then fall, Nearby church bells distract, Into abyss fallen, Elevated body all at once, Floating amidst flora, Drowning, Petticoat woven dress, Resting on fresh valley water, Immersion, No contention, Hamlet awaits.
© Sia Jane
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 3:38 PM UTC
Confined to eternal asphyxiation
They live a suffocated existence
No hope to regain what they took for granted
They showed no regard for earth, air, or water
This polluted wasteland, their planet
They cannot love each other anymore
Their punishment is solitude and xenophobia
What privileges they had, once upon a time
Affection and love, and interpersonal immersion
Now doomed, forever, to be alone
In this world destroyed by greed, desire, and lust
For power, the human beings atone,
They do not deserve to be alive, let alone
To walk aware of their wrongdoings
They should have been erased
I would have loved to be the executioner
Of billions sinful, lying, cursed, wretched,
Vile, incessant, promiscuous, vicious, insidious,
Slimy, wily, evil creatures humans are
Instead I have become their saviour
I feel no pity or sympathy for the Devils
They became in exchange of their materialism
I see them walk in masses of melancholy, loneliness
As I once did for which they showed no regard for me
And heartless, I ignore their silent cries for help
You are sentenced to life in prison, one like no other
Free to live in a society which shows more confinement
Than any man-made cell or coffin
Elements you took for granted shall be stripped away
Your sinful quest for immortality has led you accordingly
It is forbidden to breathe the air you polluted,
Drink the water you tainted, eat the fruits of the earth you destroyed
Your senses will be nullified and your spirits
Crushed as this planet was insufficient
For your corrupted existence .
Dec 3, 2009
Dec 3, 2009 at 11:38 AM UTC
there was a sparkle in her eyes
I saw it
I saw it
no one else paid her any attention
and only I noticed the apple cores of her hands
unfulfilled
starving
hysterical
barren
barred
so she resorted to magic
the crazy stuff of existence
like the wheat she stashed in her sandbag heart
and when it found her not
despair shook the earth
around her sorrowful body
permeating disillusion
confusion
immersion in nothingness nothingness nothing
lonely lonely
and bottle caps launched from her fingernails
from the spiraling stems of madness that rampaged through her bulging pulse
with piercing shards of nothingness nothingness nothing
splitting her glowing veins
and sweetening her ever-kind
clueless
knowledgeable
brain brain brain
and where was the world?
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 8:26 PM UTC
The road was long and rough
It was a passageway of words
A parade of letters and prose
The touch of invisible pleasure
I moulted like a snake in season
I dreamt on a cruiser of reign as we
opened my pandora box in the cave
The road was smooth and right
It was a third eye paradise of seers
A mire of misery and blowing wind
The tears flew like fireflies on heat
I met the shrinks of souls in salt bed
I waved the rain as it washed my sins
On that sight of the pandora box
The road of wrongness and rightness
It was an unfolded augury of life
An awakened sleeper roared in dreams
The days when I touched the skies
I took the broken house and mended
I saw the clouds as bright as crimson
Inside the box when I met my twin
The road of love, lust, love, longness
It was when the ember coal was wild
A blaze of soul collision and resonance
The days when doubt taunted in mazes
I wrested my mind and the heart knew
I tested the precipice and intuition led
Inside the unconditional pandora box
The road where I hid and felt alive
It was a paradise of shining trees
A place where our loneliness merged
The safest heaven on barren lands
I saw my warrior and he shielded
I sat as he ran away with fear and pride
On that very opened pandora box
The road of unforgotten forever
It was a triangulation of continents
An immersion of difference and indifference
The open table of a scarce connective mess
I shed my naive bed and hardened
I shut the wild untwisted world
On that very inevitable pandora
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 7:09 AM UTC
My head is filled with voices
Each have something to say
Telling me to make different choices
Each wants to get their way
I am trapped in a box of confusion
Inhaling water of a million oceans
My broken parts have suffered complete immersion
My heart has dealt with a thousand erosions
The voices chew through my nerves
Like acid
Their tone of voice swerves
Their faces placid
I have a gift for pretending
Keeping this smile on my face
As if my world was not ending
Even though that is the case
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 11:58 PM UTC
Listen, my friend, this road is the heart opening,
kissing his feet, resistance broken, tears all night.
If we could reach the Lord through immersion in water,
I would have asked to be born a fish in this life.
If we could reach Him through nothing but berries and wild nuts
then surely the saints would have been monkeys when they came from the womb!
If we could reach him by munching lettuce and dry leaves
then the goats would surely get to the Holy One before us!
If the worship of stone statues could bring us all the way,
I would have adored a granite mountain years ago.
2.7k
I hear your son likes boys
In a way you don't approve;
But it's how he is wired,
Through and through.
You caught your son kissing boys,
And you told him he's disgusting;
Who knew in 2015,
Homophobia would be a thing.
Your son likes boys,
That he cannot change;
So what he kisses boys,
Is that so strange?
There are a million things
Your son could be,
Don't you think,
Don't you agree?
It's up to you, break his wings
Or let him fly;
Think about what you want to accomplish
Before you die.
Do you wish to care for him,
Mold him into his best version;
Or make him your toy,
And use lies as immersion?
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 5:27 PM UTC
The water rushes over me
heart beatin' like a river
Water, water
Rush, rush
And I'm all out of shame
and I've emptied my veins
Father, Father
Hush, hush
Following immersion
spiritual incursion
restoration of sight brought to mind
Water, water
Rush, rush
Wisdom, understanding
knowledge notwithstanding
my very thoughts had gone blind
Father, Father
Hush, hush
Expels the enemy- dastardly dealer
ensconced, encamped
Water, water
Rush, rush
Comes the Helper- unfathomable healer
reborn, revamped
Father, Father
Hush, hush
©Jason Cole
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 6:47 AM UTC
immersion in the Jordan
risen from their graves
there's a place of graciousness
the pastel water saves
yes, there's a place of peaceful joy
for the heart that raves
wisdom beckons... righteousness!
for fools and for knaves
we are awake yet dreaming
wandering into the waves.
SoulSurvivor
(C) 11/28/2015
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 1:12 PM UTC
...You, dearest vagary, aplomb--were
brought to bear.
Vicissitude of memory which is the
dispersion of identity.
Of a time, and of a place--you, a
mellifluous bronze dusk poured upon
a meadow, a solitary immersion, a
moment that harnesses the whole of
the earth, as you are...dearest vagary.
You were afforded as by the citizenry
of the air, lent by an intercontinental
wind.
An undying eloquence featured for all
time--the swaying bud blown to bloom.
You...the beautification of possibility,
its matrices never left in want.
As in withstanding place the round is
made, and remade about you, the whole
of the earth.
Thus, you've no confounding words...
have you?
Thus, this sidelong expenditure that you may--
shall breach the earth you shall.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 11:09 AM UTC
Luminous passion flows quite magnificently
A dance crying out to be heard
Persuading your spirit to honor the motion
So sweetly, as it stirs
A remarkable immersion of inspiring sensation
Uncovers a welcoming glance
Softly held on the face of the persuaded spirit
Who hears the cry of the dance
Gratifying spontaneity demands your attention
Be delighted by the cry that is heard
Inspiring the spirit to gently whirl and spin
To a lovely music without words
Beautiful effortless moves of revealing delight
Are honored without any question
By the spirit who hears the lovely persuading music
Of the dance of spontaneity's suggestion
Aug 19, 2010
Aug 19, 2010 at 7:15 PM UTC
I'm ashamed
As I picture you undressed
between my arms, against my chest..
I'm ashamed
As I taste your lips
When I hold my hand to smell my breath
Ashamed
that I feel your wet
around my tip when I clean it
Lusting after you
because I love you
slowly dying
cause I can't have you
the way I want to...
Be inside you
All around
from your airy head
to the feet and ground
I'm Ashamed
Cause I disrespect you
in my mind I always take you
touching skin
licking tongue
in my mind so much fun
ripping clothes
squeezing breast
at your dying breath
causing explosion after explosion
between you legs liquid immersion
And i slip deeper into thought
Out of your mind, into your heart
And I'm ashamed
Cause you're waiting
because you're only
trying to do what's right
Ashamed
I want to ****** you tonight
Tomorrow
and the day after
but you resist me too well
that only i can feel the blame
so because you're so right
I feel so Ashamed
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 2:29 PM UTC
You are cyclic like
the change of seasons
in your reinvention;
robust is your passion,
a mountain brook
that embraces hills
plains, fields and ravines
without any restriction.
Instantly you would imbibe
any message, air, wind or water
sends through flashes of intimations,
nature's child you are, a woman
in sync with the moon in your veins
and the sun that seeks you from my *****
I only follow the music your heart strings play
that in my psyche resonates, every moment,
it makes easy navigation in this planet my right.
You and I move through the waves rowing
shoulder to shoulder, singing spiritedly barcaroles.
The feminine in me is under your tender care,
I let my masculine self be in communion with yours,
all merging in harmoniously, resulting in only ONE.
Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 10:07 AM UTC
Seasoned Love's silent discourse,
Dusk of the long distance,
Beneath the mantle of lament
The peak bloom, gnawing decay,
Obscure
The weight of favor;
Annealing fire, moulded by
Winds of duration
Unfastening the raw surf of sorrow.
Incipient caprice, theft of occlusion
Colored by common defiance,
Vile tremors of privation-
Native enclave,
The province of
Vacant, age-eaten elucidation.
The tangled weave, pathos and ethos
Vested
Interior acquisition,
Furrowed paths of countenance
Evincive and drawn,
Affinity found, inhabiting the palisades
Of Immersion.
A furtive glance harbors
The trained gaze whose
Immanent flame-
Emergent
Serous source,
Imbued piercing latency;
A taste of
The fountainhead.
Unprobed theater of the absolute.
Thin supple pith
Identity sealed in skin
Perambulator of meaning and
Lineaments of cure.
Bearing the image of ubiquity
Perceives in the other,
Immortality.
Sacramental Eros,
Subsumes the
Capacity to treasure.
©2013 W.S. Warner
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:51 AM UTC
travelin north on rumblin boxcar trains
soft iron rails confess syncopated pains
slow rhythmic rush of spinning paddlewheels
full immersion baptism in Big Muddy swales
feint clip clop thoughts of ol Bess fade fast
hum a hue of delta blues to hard times past
I lift a quiet prayer to my Lord’s willowy ear
to quell the ugly whispers of yonder city fears
Jacob Lawrence
Panel 23
Migration Series
Duke Ellington:
Daybreak Express
Orlando
9/24/17
jbm
Sep 25, 2017
Sep 25, 2017 at 12:30 PM UTC
Whenever I must add new people to my life,
I feel that it is my duty to be my most likable version,
And because of that, I wear makeup, straighten my hair,
And lose myself in aesthetic immersion.
I feel better when I feel pretty,
And that breaks my heart.
I never thought my happiness,
Was such a simple and vain art.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 11:24 PM UTC
a misty reflection
in the mirror
of life
a fragile shadow
on the wall
of boundaries
a deep echo
in the tunnel
of thoughts
a soft whisper
in the voice
of dreams
a broken emotion
in the beat
of hearts
a flashback
in nightmares
of death
a roller coaster
in the subconscious
of minds
a thunder storm
in dilemma
of souls
a water mark
in the shade
of light
an immersion of words
in a baptism
of truth
an ultraviolet ray
in a shattered prism
of glass
a moonless sky
in presumption
of total eclipse
a tempting apple
in the garden
of forbidness
a holy angel
in dark joy
of sacred sin
an ardent paramour
in fervent yearning
of passion
a jealous lover
in distruction
of love
a stop watch
in the beginning
of time
a deep crack
in the crust
of the earth
an earthquake
in the seizmic core
of hot lava
a forest path
in a wild jungle
of tamed lions
a gold circle
in waterfalls
of a crazy affair
a wave of trust
in the vast ocean
of betrayal
a soften glacier
on the bedrock
of seperation
a chequers game
in bereavement
of a king
a monopoly
in the loss
of forever
a white swan
in the well
of a lake
a weeping petal
of a daisy
in last goodbye
a new today
in yesterday's
tomorrow
a big question mark
on the edge
of destiny.
Nov 3, 2010
Nov 3, 2010 at 11:01 PM UTC
Within this solitude,
I have grown in ways I never knew possible.
I have delved deeper into the caverns
of each chamber
of this sacred abode
we call the Heart,
and discovered there is no end..
It is a perpetually incessant journey.
I continue to swim,
propelled through this bloodstream, ~ this heart’s dream..
my tears becoming one with the ocean
within the vessel that carries me forth.
Guided by a gentle hand, the inward immersion continues..
It is dark.. warm..
it envelopes me.
I cannot see .. rather I feel,
moving by the sight of faith.
There is safety in this sanctuary,
the guiding hand a cord,
the darkness a soothing, protective womb.
I inhale deeply –
as I hear the voice whisper:
everything is allegory
pain is a sculptor (it keeps us upright)
love is a painter (his brush divinely guided)
lust is a cello… (but what good is an instrument without a song to sing?)
and I am ecstatically transported to Tagore:
“*I have spent my days stringing and unstringing my instrument
while the song I came to sing remains unsung*.”
I exhale cathartically –
Releasing..
It seems an eternity between the inhale ~ and the exhale..
a lifetime between each breath.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 11:24 PM UTC
*My very dear friends and wonderful, international tribe of poets:
When I first joined you all here last August, I was in a time of deep solitude, culturing inner silence.
It became an ideal time to make real progress with my writing.
The part I had no idea about then, and that has become such a treasured part of my life, is the growth and blossoming of new friendships
with many of you!
On June 2nd, 2016, just over a month ago, I felt an innocent, spontaneous impulse to open up, once again, to the world around me.
After all that immersion in transcendental bliss consciousness, life began presenting me with beautiful new opportunities, which has in turn lead to the most fantastic job I have yet had the honor to call my own, in which I am able to express and employ
all of my particular set of talents and abilities.
Hence, then, my long absence, and my enormous, growing admiration for those of you who have families, jobs,
and also contribute excellent poems here!
*May the force be always with the poets, the writers, the thinkers, the artists... all the good and sincere well-wishers of our dear world family, and of our precious Mother Earth.
(I have just re-written this poem that speaks to my present experience and frame of mind, and thought to offer it again in this context.)
Eyes of Light
Momentarily, two eye-shaped
places in these thick grey clouds
stared directly at me, and there it was:
"Always be truthful.
Always be kind."
Just that.
A reminder.
Slipping down into the place
beyond all words,
feeling knowingness
seeping
into my bones,
residing in quiet bliss,
at home
in my own authenticity.
The lamp at the door shines,
both within, and without
residing, just being,
knowing, in the the words
of Julian of Norwich:
"All shall be well,
and all shall be well
and all manner
of things shall be well.”
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 4:19 AM UTC
You come to me in velvet mysteries
Draped in crimson like watercolour music
You arrive unannounced with the softest rain
And hold me, spellbound.
Your voice is molasses and gravel
Wrapped round the heart of a lily
You dive beneath my surface so elegantly
And leave me dreaming.
This
Our version of love
So strange
Our forever after
I bring you peace wrapped in a storm
Your masks fall to my kisses and tears
Should black thorns of sorrow pull me to Winter
Your hope is relentless.
Now I know the indigo ways of midnight
And the fall of chaos to mercy
I will be the Belle you hide in your tower
Your silent siren.
This
Immersion is love
Unchained
But held tightly
You are Ultraviolet
I am the Moon
Together we are
Luminescent.
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 11:47 PM UTC
at the bottom of a stagnant lake
lived a dead forest
black trunks standing
knuckle deep in muck
branches simply armature
for a fluttering array
of gray scarves
blowing in the watery wind
molds and aquatic plant life
growing quieter in near darkness
the forest laid down years ago
gave up the sun and the breezes
the same arguments from the same birds
slid back toward the sandy edge
then gradually leaned over
one after another they followed
under the forgiving cover
of progressively longer nights
a very slow migration
the stars really weren’t watching
eventual full immersion
nothing left uncovered
but the land around the lake
the gray water always present
became all any tree could remember
oxygenating the murk for a while
the contradictions grew
in place of leaves
instead of hopeful young twigs
stanchions indicating nothing
huddled together under the surface
standing sunken in an air more dense
a different kind of time passing
light arriving but
only in soft whispers
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 11:34 AM UTC
Hair grown white
brushed straight away
Gnarled spine
Shoulders unsquared
Padded stool
Red leather tome
Pencil scars
Yellowed borders
Crooked finger
Brittle leaves
Blurred mass
Rimless descent
Old friend
Immersion
Comfort alights
Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 8:05 AM UTC
I have a question for you
YES YOU!
Do you feel the need to be
The center of attention like me
If you fell the same
I feel your pain
Even though I'm quite quiet
I still feel the need to riot
I'm not ashamed to admit
I can be a little *****
I study the looks on people's faces
Are they paying me any attention?
Are they impressed or not?
Do my parents approve?
Well I don't give a ****
I don't need any friends
I just need their immersion
I guess you could say I'm
An attention *****
Sometimes a quick look
Will certainly do
I have their engrossment
For a second or two
It makes me feel confident
Anything to make them go OOH
If they don't notice me
I am simply nothing
I need to be set free
I deserve to be recognized
I feel violated to the third degree
I'm not going unnoticed
I dress like a banshee
I can't get over the desperation
Thanks a lot for the recognition
I'm a common goth of young
I have no interest in being hung
I don't get noticed anywhere
I want to be noticed everywhere
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 12:48 AM UTC
There there my dear, it's only a scratch, another one for the collection.
Antiseptic wipe; Dettol 99.9% by the way.
Indignancy felt but ushered into a comfortable seat with nice back support and leather upholstery.
Tomato Ketchup.
"This is just wrong, this will not stand!!" A deafening barely audible roar.
Look there is a fly banging its head against a glass window. He repeats the action over and over.
A spark flies and it blinds. Sweet immersion. Embrace. Warmth. Comfort.
A bubble. Suspension. The gaze into a lover's eyes....post ****** of course!
Cinema ticket stubs, bloated belly, extra butter. The cold walk home.
Sorry, I have none on me or I left mine inside or look away.
Discrepency and some thing dis jointed. Lack of understanding. Inward spirals.
HellNoweWontgO, away they went in disgruntled silence. Not a stain nor a mark on the beautiful tree lined streets.
Mar 22, 2012
Mar 22, 2012 at 11:00 AM UTC