"imminently" poems
the wind is a Lady with
bright slender eyes(who
moves)at sunset
and who—touches—the
hills without any reason
(i have spoken with this
indubitable and green person “Are
You the Wind?” “Yes” “why do you touch flowers
as if they were unalive,as
if They were ideas?” “because,sir
things which in my mind blossom will
stumble beneath a clumsiest disguise,appear
capable of fragility and indecision
—do not suppose these
without any reason and otherwise
roses and mountains
different from the i am who wanders
imminently across the renewed world”
to me said the)wind being A lady in a green
dress,who;touches:the fields
(at sunset)
19.7k
The time has come forth to ponder and think,
about the spiritual planes that are reluctantly unforeseen.
Of the dimensions that are surreal to those who use emotion and feel.
The mind creates an undeniable creation that disguises itself to be real.
Enduring and speculating on the thought of consciousness and love;
one will realize the reality of our minds perception defying the dogmatic breeding brawl.
Although our minds potential is finite and cleverly obscured;
we will begin to witness the marching of shooting stars so pure.
Imminently clear, we begin to reach a higher plane of degree.
Meditating to the point where we become one with the universe without plea.
Encompassing the ethereal and uncovering half-truths,
perceiving the ultimate correspondence intelligently and shrewd.
Where will one travel amidst the taunt of death and fear?
To a place that is all well too known, a herd of aimless tears.
Lacrimation will enlighten those when they have fallen in the solstices peak.
To experience a world that was previously known as a philosophical creation by the streams.
Metaphysical questions will mark its toll to the soul who learns to decipher no more.
Otherwise, contentions will cause despair and half truths will then have to bear.
Inducing a different consciousness to a degree not explored before;
one will embark on a alchemic journey of the mental transmutation to the inner soul.
Mental creation spurs the ****** of the universal degree of spirit and mind.
An illusion so concurrent to the law depicted within our eyes alter-mind.
Deception will avail to those who blindly believe they have prevailed;
when attempting to solve the riddle behind the creator of the tale.
By: Michael M. De La Fuente
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC
I wanna be your soul at peace
tranquility, gratifying the discontent with optimism, completely
I wanna be your soul in pain
anguish, suffering the life with tribulations, relentlessly
I wanna be your soul with joy
paradise, capturing the bliss with consideration, continuously
I wanna be your soul in heat
passion, inundating the fantasy with eroticism, imminently
I wanna be your soul with hate
antidote, conquering the disgust with devotion, endlessly
I wanna be your soul at dawn
witness, observing the beauty with admiration, unselfishly
I wanna be, inside out, not the outside in
I wanna be, feelings amp, not the quiet type
I wanna be, love unleashed, not the thick-skinned men
I wanna be, simply one, not the one-half hype
I wanna be, realized dreams, not the wishful wind
I wanna be, living the words, epitomizing love so effortlessly.
Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 11:11 AM UTC
When pain escalates, your mind excavates
It entertains and agitates the best of your worst thoughts
Thinking while you sink
Sinking while your mind attaches links to other links which create memories
Vile memories that participate in your habit to erase them
To remove them
By ripping them from your mind with force
Using the high of that blatant eight ball as your source
When pain escalates, your mind begins to deteriorate
As you ligate your mind frame with a plateau of mistakes
A gust of emptiness floats uninvited through derailed spaces
Generating issues on top of issues
Imminently transforming you
Fabricating you as two addicts in one body
Two addicts in one mind
Two addicts in one soul
The mind excavates on the level of your thoughts
It digs deep
By means of unique technique
It leaves your heart weak
Like a fading light in the middle of the dark
It'll pull out your distress with raised instructions of defeat
Then attaches a link that involves a ghost that sets your mind a bit free
A bit free, a little empty
The voices go quiet for a time
Your heart can now slow down as your mind continues to unwind
The high of it all makes your body want more
Reaching into your subconscious
Making you believe you need more to be cured
Sinking while you think, your mind provides solutions
Excavating while you sleep, your heart decaying from contortions
Contortions happening in your mind and soul
Contortions that have the ability to leave you body a bit sore
Masking the fears of this uneventful detour
Cause when pain escalates, the mind excavates
It entertains and agitates the best of your worst thoughts
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 1:14 PM UTC
city heat in hard
black attire, superconductive
glow of a serpent chasing
its tail.
asphalted lay of holy land--
whose bedraggled pulse snorts
in ****** laughter.
roadside augurs fester while
tying the laces of traffic, through
passed out archways.
bird's beaks are broken open,
in mad waterless monologues.
as the nucleus of this wizened apple,
casts oblique shadows... for curly cue-ing worms
flirtatious doom.
sped billboards imminently flattening the world,
under a Columbus-blue sky.
going, going...gone!
ice cream trucks mangle dueling theme
songs, sloughed off by sensational tides of kids.
distraction's lustful lick, an informationless
tombstone busy with curves.
here, whole-body shaves of renouncement...
and steady showers of salt, will make
worthy the truest Himalayan meditation.
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 12:34 PM UTC
We are the Children of the Sun,
Sister to Moon,
unyielding to none
Rushing gracefully to outrun
the warring tug of our orbit
brutish and unrelenting
naught to be forsaken
We are tokens of synergy
an Ocean of Energy
flaring flames of Inferno
waiting, imminently
we promenade 'cross spaceous sea
to engulf the fragile faun in flight
Hell hath no other to share this night
We are the dark and undetected
electrically affected
magnetic resonance of the One.
~ forever we will be the Children of the Sun ~
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 1:58 PM UTC
These knotted guts
eject my pulsating heart,
while I wait for my welfare
to imminently crumble–
I’m lunging from my vessel.
I frantically survey for danger,
but the culprits remain covert–
I turn up empty on my basis.
But failing to subside, I wonder…
do the wires of my diagnosis
wrap me in incessant neurosis?
Or has conditioning to trauma
trained my brain to fear?
Regardless I remain engulfed
by this looming devastation,
and my neck constantly aches
from looking over my shoulder.
Oct 22, 2024
Oct 22, 2024 at 10:42 PM UTC
the futures always never immediate
imminently futile brief furious
not like fields outward sprawling
instantaneously 'neath an entire
sea of stars faultless unheaving
pastoral breathless catches you
sharply between your *******
quivering elated passing immutably
into dust
(and i just laugh and pull
the finite immeasurable
lust of thy beginning kiss
into a trembling pile of lips,
'
,
,
'
.
Apr 16, 2012
Apr 16, 2012 at 6:46 AM UTC
My heart's a paper written with ****
Crumpled, crunched and dumped.
I've always wanted her to feel it.
I've always wanted her to see it.
But her sight's blocked by desires of her own
She'll never see what she doesn't want to see
What I want is an abhorrence to her
A horrid scene that's imminently inexistent.
Never imagined I could hurt this bad
Never thought I'd be wounded this deep
I once thought in metal armor I am clad
But there's one thing she did, and my carcass exploded all over the place.
Wish I could slap it on her face how it hurts
Wish I could feel her caress and apology
But all I have left is me
All that's left for comfort is me
Cannot nail how this makes a square be four sided
Love won't, doesn't work one-sided
This double-sided life I'm living,
Will leave me in the end of the story grieving.
She never feels pain
She never gives up everything
She never let her walls come down
She's a one tough kid.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 3:51 AM UTC
Tell the people that I love
that I'm sorry.
Sorry that the wounds on my skin will not be healing
sorry that my eyes will never be opening
sorry that the mess I leave behind requires a cleanup you can't solicit from me
sorry that I won't apologize anymore.
It feels like every time I pick up a pen to write
All that comes out in the light of day is sorries.
Maybe I should write poems in the dark
I wish I preferred the dark
but in reality all the dark means is another missed opportunity
at telling someone I love them.
I don't even know who I'd say it to
but maybe myself
if I ever got over the fear of rejection I will imminently face
staring at the mirror
whispering the words until love turns to hate
and I **** in my stomach and wipe off my tears
and I give into the headache that has never left my mind.
Tell the people I love that I was sick,
and I was angry,
but I'm done with all that because the minute my boxcutter met flesh the anger and the sick gave way to scars
- I am a master at making scars -
and ebbed at the shore of my life,
my life is the sea
AND I AM DROWNING.
Eons ago when I would spend time with friends I felt empowered and happy
but now when I do I realize that I am no longer new or shiny or even worthwhile
and my friend's crossover into being just an acquaintance kills me every time
even though I am waiting in line
to end the tortuous tiptoeing myself.
Tell the people I love
that I am not sorry,
just at rest,
sitting beneath the dark shade that death provides
steadily freezing to death in a bath tub full of ice because
ANYTHING is better than you making me feel like garbage again.
Tell the people I love
that screaming at my grave
would be better than bringing flowers
because at least I could have something real from you.
Tell the people I love
that love is not a race;
you don't need to be first to be winning.
Tell the people I love
that I know they love each other
too much to spare any love for me
and that's okay.
Tell the people I love I won't get in their way.
Tell the people I love I won't apologize
for this.
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 11:44 PM UTC
Like an adversity onrushes imminently,
Thy evolvement feeble you,
The assailant of my riches at most,
Impede this generation to limp down,
Falling on your entangle, twitching studiously
In an advertent common knowledge,
Knowing your existence that your part of me,
Even when I’m not, terrorizes everything I touch,
To whom shall I convey my incarceration?
The reluctant of my righteous to scheme you,
Strung the extension on the same leash,
Sweet memories inhabit this shack,
This house, these cars, this fame, I know sometimes I
Wish I didn’t have this life, these tenacious memories,
We had nothing but a felicitous life, having only grains
Was enough, depicting a smile with pain,
Fear and joy on my school Departure,
But you never grouch
Your silence became tremendous,
You perished on the face of earth,
Thou never subsisted till my wish,
Through asperity, fear and pain
I am who I am for you
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 5:19 AM UTC
The tracker has his mark
he shot her as she yelped and barked
now he hunts her down
there is blood in the snow
The hunter knows his prey is not far away
he knows it will not be long to the timber wolf has gone
she the last of her kind, had cubs last years
but hunters found her hide and demolished them with spears
Now she limps and drags her wounded bleeding leg
how crimson is the blood on the white snow
she howls to the moon as it appears
knowing her death is imminently near
There is no mercy where the hunters heart resides
for he wants her life and her coat of glory, her hide
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 10:07 AM UTC
There was this boy
He appeared
In my dreams
When I needed
Rescuing
Black hair
Black shirt
Jeans
Can't remember how he looks like
He was the only
One
In a world
Of delusion
Distortion
Nonsense
Who seemed
Real
Who was
Sane
Who cared
Or so I think
Miraculously
Getting rid
Of all the dangers
Saving me
From an
Unpleasant
Fate
I still remember
The last thing
He told me
In the last dream
It was long long ago...
**Caught in a web
Like those pyramids
You climb
With danger
Getting imminently
Closer
Climbing through
Steadily
I was frozen
My fear of heights
Made my movements
Sluggish
And slow**
He turned to me
And said
"I'll go draw him
Off
Go
We'll meet
There"
Then he vanished
Ever since then
He had never
Come back
I wonder what's happening
In that chaotic world
Sometimes
I even wonder
How he is
Even though
He isn't
In this world
He isn't
Flesh and blood
But he makes me feel
Safe and
Secure
Grounded
In a world
Of chaos
Oh where are you...
Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 11:18 AM UTC
My heart's a paper written with ****
Crumpled, crunched and dumped.
I've always wanted her to feel it.
I've always wanted her to see it.
But her sight's blocked by desires of her own
She'll never see what she doesn't want to see
What I want is an abhorrence to her
A horrid scene that's imminently inexistent.
Never imagined I could hurt this bad
Never thought I'd be wounded this deep
I once thought in metal armor I am clad
But there's one thing she did, and my carcass exploded all over the place.
Wish I could slap it on her face how it hurts
Wish I could feel her caress and apology
But all I have left is me
All that's left for comfort is me
Cannot nail how this makes a square be four sided
Love won't, doesn't work one-sided
This double-sided life I'm living,
Will leave me in the end of the story grieving.
She never feels pain
She never gives up everything
She never let her walls come down
She's a one tough kid.
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 3:57 AM UTC
LIFE: THROUGH MY EYES
Forget, better still ignore
what the great philosophers had said
life is but a point of view
only I and I alone can shed
meaning from my experiences
unique, individual, lonely and tumultuous
life is in the singular and the roads
I have travelled are unknown to the multitudinous
no outsider heard me cry nor witnessed my tears
like a caged animal how often I had been trapped with my hands tied
also imminently close to drowning and I struggled against the tide
my freedom to regain---every means I courageously tried
and promised myself with the words
' I was not born to yield
( proud philosophy is no comfort nor succour)
I was victorious as I fought without fear in life's battle-field'.
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 3:52 AM UTC
Is it beautiful?
Or terrifying,
the way love can feel.
Raindrops drip from your fingertips,
only to imminently be evaporated
by the sun’s wave of smoldering heat.
Do you cling to those raindrops,
because you crave the touch on your skin?
Or do you wait for the sun,
because you crave the warmth beneath your curves?
I have felt the rain,
and weathered the storm.
I have danced in the warmth,
and soaked the sun beneath my feet.
Both equally making me feel complete.
Both teaching me things about myself I never knew.
It is beautiful,
to love.
It is terrifying,
knowing love can be lost.
But like the sun rises,
and the water nourishes
its merely unavoidable,
but necessary for growth.
Take my hand,
and let us walk in the rain.
Let the sun dry out the emotions,
flooding through my brain.
With the warmth of your skin,
and the storm of your eyes.
I will be fine.
I will be fine.
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 1:14 PM UTC
Stoic amid the tranquil tides, the temperate zephyrs
But a fluttering spark, travelling through the aeons
Witness to the wonders of time, yet ever fleeting
The bearer of that which outlasts this eternal folly
However, for a certainty, even this steadfast paragon
Does not foresee what the clock hands have in store
And the fallen mouth their soft, intelligible rhymes
Thus the air carries this ephemeral elegy of euphony
But as the voices dance within those hallowed halls
Sound brilliantly in harmony, a display of fervour
The mosaic of echoes dismantled by fate's clutches
Changes imminently, unavoidably, flawlessly
Alas, the decadent phantoms of the days long gone
In their irrefutable devotion to their fallacious lord
Seek naught but to extinguish the astral avatar
Embodied within the solitary luminaire, ever vigilant
Does the final line of defence lay dormant even now
As the messenger of the deep beyond revivifies
The illusion dispelled, disenchanted, disengaged
Situation growing direr, the peacekeeper absent
Sealed within a decrepit maze, the mirrored world
Drawing parallels between the unimaginable still
Lost its own essence in the steadily rising entropy
For none are safe; the fabric of reality is wounded
Tendrils escape from the fissure, liberated at last
Come what may, the very barriers between realms
Once separating life and death, light and darkness,
Brought down in a prismatic flash of scintillation
And as that which tore this rift open runs rampant
The spectres of the past in their perpetual undeath
Whisper but a single innocent inquiry of naiveté
"May we reclaim our corporeal selves once more?"
An epiphany unlike most defeats wishful thinking
The clairvoyant beholder, the ever-present observer
Held their answer for as long as the currents of time
Although hope succumbs last, what is after hope?
Thus, in the demoralising wake of the bitter truth
Let the untamed flames of fury loose, such tragedy
Doom befalls the woeful, weary and withered worlds
For the inconspicuous spark has ceased its motion
The end justifies the means in the mind of madness
Apr 13, 2019
Apr 13, 2019 at 5:29 PM UTC
The clock has been set
And it's counting down
To an inescapable doom
That we feel so imminently
But the clock is just a construct
Devised by man to tell the seasons
Time itself holds no weight
In the grand course of things
The clock will eventually break
When midnight is struck
Signaling the arrival
Of humanity's end
In our aftermath
Creation will carry on
As if nothing of consequence
Had even taken place
And truely nothing had
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 7:21 PM UTC
It’s Twelve to midnight,
The cold moonlight shines
so bright across the October night.
I go outside for a walk with my dog.
The sky falls into a dark void filled with nothing.
The world stands still.
An owl coos in the pitch black
crooked trees that stand tall.
Surrounding every corner I go.
Each foot-step crunches beneath my feet
With leaves scattered across the concrete.
Screaming in pain.
The wind sings under the Harvest moon,
like lost souls.
Sending chills down my spine with paranoia.
Streetlights shining so grim and dark
With a yellow glow that shows the way
Through that cursed path that leads beneath the dark.
Crickets chirping loudly through the dimmed,
quiet neighborhood.
My breathing becomes heavy.
Each heartbeat grows louder and louder with anxiety.
Feeling this unease tension in the black void.
Feeling like I’m watched.
Stalked through my night walk.
Then a crash breaks the silence.
A trashcan falls over.
The night swallows the sound whole,
Followed by a creepy whistle echoing through the night.
I turn around…
Under one streetlight,
I see a tall, skinny dark figure just standing there.
Its eyes staring me down with its wide,
uncanny smile. Like I’m its prey in its sight.
It felt like a while.
Its arms and legs contorted and crooked,
Bones poking through flesh of its skin.
Then for a moment
I hear an alarm on my phone.
It’s an Amber Alert…
“A creature called
‘The Crooked man’
lurks in the neighborhood at midnight.
A total of five people went missing last week.
If you see this creature,
Stay in shelters imminently!
Don’t let anyone in and
Don’t trust the voices inside!”
There I stand.
The light vanishes into darkness
And the song stops playing.
I can’t see for a moment.
Then out of nowhere,
it lunges at me.
The last thing
I saw… is its smile.
I wake up,
Past twelve through midnight
In my bed.
It was all in my head…
Or is it?
As I see an Amber Alert on my phone with a message
“Don’t let the crooked man in…”
Then…Whistling…
Oct 20, 2024
Oct 20, 2024 at 2:16 PM UTC
Many a flame, brightens the sky
Such events to re-enact
A plot in vain that would underlie
A pre-determined pact
Brought up as a Catholic child
Beliefs that would not wane
The distinct view of Protestants
Reflecting royal reign
The disapproving treatment then
Catholic Priests and all
Of secret church services
Hidden holes – no fall
A venture to the land of Spain
Discover and to fight
A brave and learned soldier
Gunpowder to alight
Plans devised, against the king
Thomas Winter’s plot
Fawkes informed and now assigned
Such tales were not forgot
A secret meet within the Inn
Robert Catesby lead
A gang adjoined as one to swear
Our plans will go ahead
A parliamentary opening
Imminently placed
For barrels rolled into the night
Hidden without trace
A letter sent to Monteagle
Reward for such a warn
Uncovered act, to light a fuse
The truth of which be sworn
Hidden in the cellar below
O’ Guy to now arrest
A plotters display of guilty heads
The ending of their quest
Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 12:23 PM UTC