"incipient" poems
August burned quickly, incipient nostalgia
prematurely vanished, mellow and gentle
sea stone on the tiled table, cedar plank
with fish, sunset through the eye-slit window
thigh high in life and riding wherever life
takes me like a hopeless romantic
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 1:27 AM UTC
Thousands of years I have lived
And now I feel like little bacteria
My heart is filled with pores
And people call it ostia
The night's are glazing with pleurobranchia
And thank God I didn't get ******* hemiplegia
Solitary I feel in my animal kingdom
I wish I could do something with my boredom.
How amazing are these euplectellian shrimps
Dieing together imprisoned
Symptoms of true love they show to me
Together up to death they are known to be.
Maybe I am the class imperfecta
But by birth I am a mammalia
I wish we could both be mycorrhiza
And get hallucinated with amanita.
Someday we would make a synapse
And get into the love with mitochondria
And there our nervous system stops
And there the impulse will walk .
No special organelles I have
I'm just 70s ribosome
My heart is incipient
With foldings of mesosome
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 4:41 AM UTC
To be imbued with the conviction that empathic listening is a panacea,
by the surreptitious, murmurous harbinger and his mellifluous words,
provoked brooding that my comprehension of his susurrous eloquence was a mondegreen,
when this scintilla of sagacity left a fetching ingenue crestfallen.
By the surreptitious, murmurous harbinger and his mellifluous words!
I adopted a propinquity to this furtive, ephemeral epiphany,
but when this scintilla of sagacity left a fetching ingenue crestfallen,
I discerned this lagniappe beleaguered our dalliance.
I adopted a propinquity to this furtive, ephemeral epiphany.
When she became inured to petrichor I knew my method pyrrhic,
and when I discerned that this lagniappe beleaguered our dalliance,
I vowed to rectify the imbroglio for my quintessential cynosure.
When she became inured to petrichor I knew my method pyrrhic,
and I ruminated that her insouciance was only forbearance.
I vowed to rectify my quintessential cynosure of the imbroglio,
and fabricated a denouement to return her to halcyon incipient.
I ruminated that her insouciance was only forbearance,
until hearing her state our conflation made each a moiety of our own panoply.
She fabricated a denouement to return us to the incipience of halcyon
with ineffable felicity, and I remembered with ebullience my inamorata's words.
Hearing her state our conflation made each a moiety of our own panoply
provoked brooding that my comprehension of her susurrous eloquence was a mondegreen.
With ineffable felicity I found ebullience in my inamorata's words
and was imbued with the conviction that empathic listening is a panacea.
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 4:58 AM UTC
We were a beleaguered bard born,
a chief in chatoyant charms charged with
the principle petrichor of passionate paramours;
to drive the dainty dalliances
of incipient ingénues immured in
glamourous gossamer gowns;
lilting, lead lissome lads 'long labyrinthine love;
mischeiviously make mellifluous mondegreens;
sing of such serendipity: surreptitiously susurrous sessions
scintillas of Spring's sempiternal sentiments!
But fetching fugues fade fast, felicity's fated to fly. For
penumbral poets, it portends a pyrrhic pay.
We wander woebegone, waiting wistfully.
Lovers leave lyricists to languish in lonely lassitude.
The halcyon heyday has harbingered
inbroglio in the inured inventor of infatuation.
Why? With what wherewithal?
Often our offerings off us, opposite of, obviously, obtaining, or,
lucidly: lyrical lacers of Love likewise lack its livening lagniappe.
Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 11:59 AM UTC
Acquiesce here my love
Ameliorate my heart
The assemblage of circumstance provides dulcet ebullience
An efflorescent dalliance conflated into cathartic becoming
My bucolic bungalow made upon your callipygous
A young Life’s denouement
Your evocative elixir fetching
An erstwhile emollient embrocation
Your eloquent fingers find their way to frisson
My felicitous chatoyant gambols in glamor like a halcyon incipient made ineffable by the look of the ingénue
The labyrinthine inglenook lagoon leisurely lithe
The murmurous daffodils wink at the insouciance of your beauty
A panoply panacea, the half shadow complete as an epiphany
Quintessential to feminine riparian resplendence
Your mellifluous voice, an opulent offing, the sumptuous summery soliloquy of an angel
Cools my soul like the smell of earth after rain
Your propinquity ripples the scintilla of my spirit
Your surreptitious smile like a zephyr quietly whispers
Its redolent seraglio sempiternal in my thoughts
As skyward gazes like saccharine gossamer lilt with the knowledge of our raveling juxtaposition
a masterful pastiche, the cynosure of divine revelation
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 9:25 PM UTC
Incipient Love
Putting forth your best face, yet
Searching for what their eyes say
Seasoned Love
Going through your worst day, yet
Knowing you take their breath away
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 3:29 PM UTC
The
***tilt of my seesaw
is decidedly downward facing dog:
and there’s no rush to judgment,
for the powers that be,
be delighted by slow-walking,
making the waiting
max-tortuous,
but am of an age when everything,
even the long buried sins and unkept promises, poke and **** nonstop,
and the formulae once relied upon
to ease incipient self-deception,
to temporize and salve the consternations
of unkempt aggravated remorse failures,
as aged misdemeanors be matured felonies,
I blurt and declare guilt to all, alas,
and yet,
always an
and yet
in the ultimate crushing of
tardiness, knotted by an indignity of silence,
no one is desirous
of taking my***
confession
5:10pm
Thu Jan 28
2023
Jan 30, 2023
Jan 30, 2023 at 3:41 PM UTC
~
*In the days of Jupiter
during the age of
lovely intimate things
the abundant rain giving life
to a lactating mother
bloodletting
cloudburst
her magic ocean
and incipient seabright moon
together at the center of creation*
~
Mar 10, 2024
Mar 10, 2024 at 2:44 PM UTC
You are
incipient
brilliance,
I eagerly covet,
unendingly
ebullient,
seems to be
in boiling point,
evidently
prurient,
an unfailing
euphoriant,
for me
a constant
element of
wonder
day and night,
But yes
I must not
forget this;
you aren't
an organic
compound
sans side effects.
More of a
a kick ***
designer drug,
that adds an
extra sense
yet, without
a legitimate
name to call it.
Aren't you
a hallucinant, though
yet to be invented,
I am hopelessly
addicted to.
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 1:23 PM 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
Today I am tornado
Tomorrow I am storm
Today I am destruction
Tomorrow Phoenix born
Today I am the fire
So from ashes rise
Today I am the truth
Tomorrow never lies
Today you are my never
Tomorrow you're today
Today I give you nothing for
Tomorrow to take away
Today you are the beauty
Tomorrow well who knows
But still you tend the garden
Where all tomorrows grow
Today I fight my demons
In my way which might be slow
So tomorrow can be freed of
All today's incipient woes
I hack Today's full veins
And fill tomorrow's cup
So I may plant tomorrow's morning
And watch the day grow up
Tomorrow there is darkness
That started here today
And all because tomorrow's
Are just too far away
And so I sit and think of
How to best disrupt the norm
And so
Today I am tornado
So tomorrows just a storm
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 2:39 PM UTC
What he will give is the incipient bare minimum
of his heartbeat
He’ll reveal just
the washed out clamoring of his horded desire
all because there would be nothing left in his own perception
of a universe that may reduce his secret lust to nothing.
implode like terrorists on the fantasy of his greatness yet to come…
although we are born magnificent; which then gets blinded out by all the hearsay of our original sin
he won’t go too far with a notion of
blissful ‘otherness’
nor squeeze too many lemons
he’s got no room for confidence sugar stored
on his empty shelf
*however negative space can be
a good thing*
(he has heard)
he’s dumbfounded when he wants more from someone
and expects the best of their yet to be born
mind reading abilities to:
just
understand who he is
or
“be gone I say!”
…(hehehe) -writer could not help it-
scathed in baby blisters by his choices so far...
it was of course!
all the:
****** babble of growing up in his _Family of origin_/original sin
where he learned to swim so comfortably in precious
Aloneness ----- -Aloofness-
and there he became more real than ever
---Ahh well...it’s the grand excuse for
most of his life
until he feels the scratch of his riotous ‘settling for’
is bleeding ****** ******
and then one day he looks in the mirror and a ghost like
stroke (not yet manifested)
spotlights his over bearing mind to feel what it has
~done did~
disconnected with deeds of the heart
and foresight/manipulation
for naught
he then finds out his heart needed more than a cup of
tea and a scone (mid 40's)
he finds out his emotional impasse was so ****
false (almost 50)
and that his lack of allowing others in
was truly a waste of mental constructs
(Solid 51)
this I know like my own dry eyed nodding
I was him
(the now pleasure of hindsight... 55)
but all the 'do right' stuff is cohesively on time
all the contrast that created a calling for
again and again
this leaning
to love
Linaji 2011
Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 12:58 AM UTC
for 12A13
And so we arrive, across the woods
of adolescence, at adulthood.
Muddy-shoed. Wounds freshly cut
from the incipient grassy parts.
Blood meeting the new mud,
like skin testing the water's touch:
their hairs standing like Olympic swimmers,
bent with the posture of delight and terror.
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 1:28 PM UTC
Thirteen thousand strides progress
Blind leathern tread with gritted teeth
Stride hard rough bracken heather strive
Incipient thought embrace the scarp
Bent shoulder strain web strap entrench
Sharp body lean oppose the wind
Slow pitch forward cold lash rain
Pause..Shrug pack .. Lurch on again
Rough rock scrape pass
Sharp edge hand scrape
Each tread ascend dull lactic ache
Stone eyes cast up
Embrace dark peak
Surge on .. Dig in..
Embrace the pain
Aggressive stance.. find strength begin
Engage the enemy entrenched within
With comrades in adversity
Side glance reveal
Grey brother tight
Mordant ploughshare gleaming bright
United thought strong purpose right
Grim grimace glower grinding on
Helping hand support and share
Exchang-ed glances sing the pain
Relentless climb advance distain
Strong ******* stride bogged into mire
Grappling cragfast handclasp dire
Entropic spirit brief despair
Revelatory cause unswayed
Each cloistered personal crusade
Burst upwards into sunlight flame
And stand with vision intertwined
Each grim companion lasting friend
Eyes meet brief recognition shout
We know what it’s all about
These clasping minds
Empath embrace
Profound cognitive self aware
To follow where few others dare
These comrades in adversity
Oct 30, 2009
Oct 30, 2009 at 7:24 AM UTC
Inadvertently
It slips to my realm.
Believe, I never wanted it so bad
To tickle stone of my shell;
To flow;
To be my well.
And it - the weather -
Having never been anticipated,
Bends, transforms
Into a weatherly incipient ******
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 11:40 PM UTC
are always a journey,
hours can move so slow, or pass by quickly
somehow, we think of good times and bad times
back to our innocent days........and stubborn ways...
late hours could bring out perfect landscapes,
or, chilling moonscapes, from a fecund mind
every corner, every moment, every gust of wind
every act...becomes an incipient inspiration,
then come verses on existence and experiences,
our awakenings.....impressions on love's essence,
newfound feelings...we write about God's presence,
we question concepts on life here on earth, and
life thereafter.....wondering, if Heaven, or hell
occurs right here on earth, in our midst, or deep within
ourselves...or, maybe, in another sphere...different...
my folks often told us then, maybe as a deterrent,
"Heaven and hell, are places....for consequences
of our earthly actions...they're afterlife occurences..."
Sally
Copyright November 18, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Nov 18, 2016
Nov 18, 2016 at 10:38 PM UTC
the hues of my imagination run ahead of me
chasing my dreams as reality lags behind
the ephemeral beauty of youth dances lively
but the ineffable grace of love is demure
the incipient infatuation progresses wildly
the flames too brilliant to ignore
Apr 7, 2011
Apr 7, 2011 at 8:14 AM UTC
A trip of your lifetime they say!
Prepare for the ride:
Disown your despair,
get to know mirth,
dispatch all sense of malevolence.
Today is a good day.
We will take a step into a realm uncharted,
existence there is perpetual,
vibrant in the ways of the metaphysical.
Friends...
The ones long lost.
Incipient familiarity shines in your eyes,
we've been here before,
but never have we seen this place.
My tentative mind begins to discern the real.
You begin to put the mosaic back together,
each piece luxuriant in knowledge.
Back...
From a spell unforgotten,
expressing a plaintive vibe,
yet savoring the exuberance of knowing:
We are existing in a world,
that exists in a world,
within itself.
May 5, 2010
May 5, 2010 at 12:38 AM UTC
•
•
*an entrancing sleepy red
my murky lovely lagoon
zygotic dreams of joy and bed
in rapture oxygenated and well fed
uploaded to this plane; this earth, this sky, and moon...
such comfort in these places
the nascent beings feel
toward the warmth they turn their faces
and their host has sweeping graces
as incipient ones grow, and bruise, and heal*
•
•
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 8:59 PM UTC
Sitting here on the rooftops,
I watch the sun set over the city.
A single, fiery red ball
Staining the surrounding clouds a bright pink.
The wind, herald of the upcoming storm,
keeps playing with strands of my hair
which hangs over my shoulders like a veil
heavy, warm, protecting.
And I give myself up to the daydreams.
The distant rattling of the train
paints the image of you sitting in it
just on your way to see me.
I can almost feel your warm touch on my shoulder
and hear the reproval in your voice
telling me, I must be crazy
to sit in the cold like that.
My eyes closed, I'd start explaining,
how beautiful the world seems upon dusk.
How the blue hour makes all the colours burst.
How the clear air seems to fill every cell of your body.
I'd breath in your sweet, well-known scent
as you sit down next to me on the roof,
I'd put my arms around you
to keep you warm while you huddle closer.
No need to tell just how much I missed you
or how months can turn into years.
Together, with a mix of melancholy and ease
we wait for the close of the day.
Then I open my eyes to the pitch black,
shivering for the want of your touch
and the comfort of your presence.
Once again sobered by the incipient rain.
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 3:05 PM UTC
Words are hard to make fit
You change and alter things so it works
Words like iridescent
Who would ever use the word incipient?
When would the word baleful ever work?
Words are hard to make fit
If you can use these words well then aren’t you full of wit
Maybe that guy over there can, I think his name’s Kirk
Words like iridescent
Trying to make words fit is like falling into an icy pit
They sneak up on you like a spy doing undercover work
Words are hard to make fit
Fitting in words is like having no banana on your banana split
If you don’t use them people think you’re a piece of work
Words like iridescent
It’s like a baleful adolescent
Well this is better that being a desk clerk
Words are hard to make fit
Words like iridescent
Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 5:06 PM UTC
A canorous music perforates my opaque
Quivering chromaticism smears me
With osculance and solidarity
I solicit solitude
And altogether, I'll be accompanied
By my only one ally
We, anon, will rally loneliness
Imbibing a cup of chocolate
With zest and dally
Oh!... An ameliorated hallucination
Do not! I beseech! decimate
My incipient, redintegrating mate ---
I cannot delineate now any line of this smooth... lie!
Oh... What love dove above!
Blinked delving and desperarion
Scintillated once whilst falling apart on my face!
With a liquor of ink... and... tears
Penetrated any level of my flesh and sunk into my sole soul
Letting a chrysalis breed into a labyrinthine verisimilitude
Lulled by loop and fetching,
Fetching equanimity
I'm sorry... I cannot any more equilibrize anything
This is my alibi desuetude
I hope desynchronised is not my goodbye!
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 2:56 PM UTC
~
*the night starts here,
the night starts here
in the dunes,
fixed in time;
incipient waves falling into place,
their subtle purpose
to roll over and sing;
the fountainhead above us,
like it's above the shore,
attaching softness to a shell.
we blew on a dandelion
and the whole world disappeared;
love is a mysterious shape,
love is a remembered rhythm.
I have trembled
my way deep,
I'm a guest in here,
drinking at the stream,
seeking bliss in
the plural homemade kiss:
peppermints and orchid rain.
we please the night,
we please the night in interlude,
and it merrily leaves us that strand
of pearls called "good morning."*
~
Jan 23, 2025
Jan 23, 2025 at 8:23 AM UTC
As the snowflakes touch her tear glazed face
Their grip gets tighter as they hit the brakes
On the life they found when they quit running in place,
Or walking, in his case....
The way you could feel it in the way that they moved
Or hear it in their soft sung blues
Or taste it in the drinks they brewed
While seeing it in their efflorescent views
And all at once they were walking in pace,
She kept his pattern without want or haste
But evanescent it was when it came to change
They were thrown a curve ball in a dangerous game
Suddenly their lives encumbered so much more,
They began seeing the light inside each open door,
And the incipient love that they created in war,
Took a new form that seemed to effortlessly soar
100,000 miles wouldn't keep them apart
They would fight to the death for this serendipitous art
No matter where she was it was never too far,
Without saying a word, he spoke straight to her heart
Road blocks were detoured and hurdles were jumped,
We maintained a hold on our love and refused to get stuck,
Devote time to each other,
And never give up
If you haven't found what you're looking for,
Close your eyes, and look down at the floor
Spin in a circle, five or six times,
Let yourself get lost in your altered mind
Remember the best things,
Aren't things that you find...
They find you,
At an undeclared time
Quit putting your effort
Into finding "The One"
And allow yourself
To have some fun...
I understand your need to run,
But I've found walking brought out the sun
And my empty hand was filled it seemed
The second I allowed myself to breathe
All you have to do,
is simply believe
Mar 22, 2012
Mar 22, 2012 at 12:11 PM UTC