"incomparable" poems
O sweet spontaneous
earth how often have
the
doting
fingers of
prurient philosophers pinched
and
poked
thee
,has the naughty thumb
of science prodded
thy
beauty .how
often have religions taken
thee upon their scraggy knees
squeezing and
buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive
gods
(but
true
to the incomparable
couch of death thy
rhythmic
lover
thou answerest
them only with
spring)
29.3k
lady craighead played the blues
on a stand-up samick
in the ***** room
along side the parsons project
and squabbling dogs
and night moves
stairs creek
up the mezzanine trek
wool sheets slide
on finished floors
little angels
play late into the seventh
(a closing match nearing
the midnight hour)
croaking toads and cicada
sing in the blue moon
musty smells and mothballs
settle deep in the vault
the kettle boils
and cat coils
as the pump house rolls
its heavy drawl
the red phone rings
and bird clock sings
(behind the ruddy stall)
a sleeman variation of the ruy lopez
employed heartily
by the incomparable master jack
marble toast burning
wringer wash churning
chris craft running
near the old carp canoe
rooster calls
and west wind squalls
rustle through the porch screen door
chicken *** pies
and rogue flies linger
a rocker chair placed
near the sepia face
(softened by the intricate frame)
donkey in tow
(with a fastened ***
maggie in her dreams
of green tambourines
the nocturnes
reflections
and whispering gospel bells
tractors pull on
the grinder stone
horses lay still
in the mid-day sun
a trump card is fingered
at the furnace click
(crosswords and puzzles are next!)
while the sparrow
*and that **** rabid fox*
are drowning
deep in castles well
Mar 14, 2017
Mar 14, 2017 at 10:20 PM UTC
O incomparable Giver of life, cut reason loose at last!
Let it wander grey-eyed from vanity to vanity.
Shatter open my skull, pour in it the wine of madness!
Let me be mad, as You; mad with You, with us.
Beyond the sanity of fools is a burning desert
Where Your sun is whirling in every atom:
Beloved, drag me there, let me roast in Perfection!
15.5k
In Nero’s private stage,
Disaster was
His audience. Rome mimics fallen Troy in play.
What was reflected in Nero’s eyes
when he sang of the swirling patterns
of fire? When Rome was caught burning;
When conspiring led to its fall.
Fire engulfed Rome with fiery teeth.
The clouds hide or faint into black smoke.
The skies bleed heavily with rust
Its brassy color mixing with the
*** of burning seas, like oceans melting
Could you not feel the sun’s weight?
Now it is incomparable to
Molten seas and softened lead!
Blood spilt from sea-point, waves wallow the cries
Of the fallen. Like a bellowing sound marching
Against caverns of ears, Copper soldiers
Melt into clouds oozing with emotion,
Shattering their now empty metal hearts,
Hollow hearts that outlive the muteness.
It is awakened when
Spark and light is absent.
(Paolo Jerome D. Cristobal / June 26, 2009 - Alabang)
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 7:09 AM UTC
*Intimate surprises
spun
from thin air.
Precious metals
forged
to last an eternity.
Unwavering.
Uncompromising.
Unapologetically bold.
Unlike anything else.
The incomparable thrill
of one-of-a-kind.*
/ Alexandra Mor
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 12:10 PM UTC
Rest in this, my bruised and weary soul:
I was a wretch, chosen to be a beauty;
a slave, chosen to be a bride;
an orphan, chosen to be an heir;
an enemy, chosen to be a friend.
I deserved nothing but wrath and death
yet received everything of life and grace.
I am loved beyond any dreaming of it
and blessed above all worldly wealth.
I have the incomparable birthright of those
whose Father is God and whose Lord is Jesus Christ—
righteousness from Him and peace with Him.
I am a cherished gift from the Father to the Son.
I was paid for by the Son’s own blood
and am "engraved on the palms of His hands."
I am the living temple of God’s Holy Spirit
Who empowers me to do His pleasure and bring Him glory.
I am the LORD's, chosen and set apart for His delight.
***What more could I ask?
But that's only the beginning...***
I will live as blessed as I believe myself to already be,
for "I have been blessed in the heavenly realms
with every spiritual blessing in Christ,"
"given everything I need for life and godliness"
through knowing Him and His precious promises,
"an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—
kept [securely and eternally] in heaven" for me.
I've been "raised up and seated with Christ";
my "life is hidden with Him" in the Father,
and "He will fill me with joy in His presence,
with eternal pleasures at His right hand."
Oh, that "the eyes of my heart would be enlightened
with the spirit of wisdom and revelation"
to see what’s already been prepared and given to me
and to know much more fully the One Who has
so meticulously prepared and lavishly given it.
As I walk intimately with Him and rest confidently in Him
(based only on His merits, never my own),
I am given free access to my account
in His heavenly storehouse and enabled to appropriate
its glorious riches to every circumstance of my life,
even the most searingly painful and confoundingly difficult ones.
I have a spiritual Fort Knox available to me
through knowing Christ Jesus my Lord,
but He Himself is my greatest treasure.
Without Him, nothing else matters.
Nothing else has meaning if I am not found in Him,
clinging to Him and carried by Him.
When I finally become desperate for Him alone,
I begin to understand the profound reality
of all He desires for me and offers to me
in my spiritual inheritance in Him.
There are infinite presents to be unwrapped
in His presence which cannot be told
in human words or comprehended by mortal minds,
but they wait to be taken hold of by
any and all who would take hold of Him.
***For He gives and gives and gives and gives,
and even when He takes, He gives.***#
Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 3:22 AM UTC
The night sky above...
Unreached by doves
a majestic sight
of incomparable light
twinkling dusts
of shimmering galactic blast
I wonder why
That this precious night sky
was so sadly underrated
even noticed, but rarely appreciated
I wished you give a minute
to take your eyes a treat
and you'll see that same night sky
I look at when all I've got is to cry
That is my eternal canvas
where hopes and dreams and lies was
scattered in nowhere of fair distances;
couldn't even remember the pieces.
my metaphor of life,
an infinite projection of blithe
so tonight, by chance, again
I'll watch my night sky then
hoping you did too
because my methapor of night sky is you
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 7:43 AM UTC
How this **** fable instructs
And mocks! Here's the parody of that moral mousetrap
Set in the proverbs stitched on samplers
Approving chased girls who get them to a tree
And put on bark's nun-black
Habit which deflects
All amorous arrows. For to sheathe the ****** shape
In a scabbard of wood baffles pursuers,
Whether goat-thighed or god-haloed. Ever since that first Daphne
Switched her incomparable back
For a bay-tree hide, respect's
Twined to her hard limbs like ivy: the puritan lip
Cries: 'Celebrate Syrinx whose demurs
Won her the frog-colored skin, pale pith and watery
Bed of a reed. Look:
Pine-needle armor protects
Pitys from Pan's assault! And though age drop
Their leafy crowns, their fame soars,
Eclipsing Eva, Cleo and Helen of Troy:
For which of those would speak
For a fashion that constricts
White bodies in a wooden girdle, root to top
Unfaced, unformed, the nipple-flowers
Shrouded to suckle darkness? Only they
Who keep cool and holy make
A sanctum to attract
Green virgins, consecrating limb and lip
To chastity's service: like prophets, like preachers,
They descant on the serene and seraphic beauty
Of virgins for virginity's sake.'
Be certain some such pact's
Been struck to keep all glory in the grip
Of ugly spinsters and barren sirs
As you etch on the inner window of your eye
This ****** on her rack:
She, ripe and unplucked, 's
Lain splayed too long in the tortuous boughs: overripe
Now, dour-faced, her fingers
Stiff as twigs, her body woodenly
Askew, she'll ache and wake
Though doomsday bud. Neglect's
Given her lips that lemon-tasting droop:
Untongued, all beauty's bright juice sours.
Tree-twist will ape this gross anatomy
Till irony's bough break.
8.6k
U for unknown.
You never want to be named.
U for ulterior.
There is so much to you I don't know about.
U for umbrage.
When you get angry or go insane.
U for unassailable.
You will always be a leader.
U for unruly.
No one knows how to control you.
U for unify
Everyone comes together for you.
U for unique.
because you are incomparable.
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 4:14 PM UTC
Nostalgia isn't what it used to be
Neither am I
Bewildered I am at how it turned out this way
Dreams and reality have to coexist
So they say
Unfortunately
That's the truth today
You see me and Casey had a good thing going
We were more than compatible
This was a love incomparable
We held hands, kissed on the street
We were happy, it was neat
This is the part where I get hurt
One day it was over, all in a blur
Something about us not being right
She moved out of the house and into the night
I'm not big on introspection
Now, I've no choice
I'm at the intersection
Of dreams and reality
With love somewhere in the middle
In search of a compass
Pointing to where I need to be
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 2:15 PM UTC
We celebrate 5th September as teachers’ day
Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan was born on this very day
He showed the Indian nation the right way
His debt how can we repay?
He is a universal teacher
And a man of inimitable stature
Wisdom and simplicity are the hallmarks of his feature
Incomparable oration is his nature
He rose to the nation’s highest post
And tried to build a bridge between east and west
His philosophical teachings are the best
And his knowledge of English is very vast
He is Plato’s philosopher king
As President honour and dignity did he bring
He brought religion a new meaning
His glory and greatness I would like to sing
Yours sincerely,
JVL NARASIMHA RAO
INDIA
Dec 30, 2010
Dec 30, 2010 at 6:23 PM UTC
I've never been good at
Being touched.
Though the fingers
Of endless suitors
Have traced incomparable
Lines of affection,
They all stroke
The same wounds.
New hands feel like
Recycled lullabies,
Humming promises
Of a new melody,
Singing a remedy for
My impassivity.
Whether words fall
Passionate or
Fearful,
Endearment lines my lips
With an expiration
Long enough to convince me,
But short enough to leave me.
Reminding me:
The disintegration of
Indifference
Remains
My prerequisite
For destruction.
So before you
Touch me with
Promises of a new
Orchestration,
I'm already marking the
Days until you leave.
Because my skin
Is tired of
Intruders hidden
Behind momentary
Infatuation.
So keep your hands to yourself.
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 12:24 AM UTC
"Alexander son of Philip, and the Greeks except the Lacedaemonians--"
We can very well imagine
that they were utterly indifferent in Sparta
to this inscription. "Except the Lacedaemonians",
but naturally. The Spartans were not
to be led and ordered about
as precious servants. Besides
a panhellenic campaign without
a Spartan king as a leader
would not have appeared very important.
O, of course "except the Lacedaemonians."
This too is a stand. Understandable.
Thus, except the Lacedaemonians at Granicus;
and then at Issus; and in the final
battle, where the formidable army was swept away
that the Persians had massed at Arbela:
which had set out from Arbela for victory, and was swept away.
And out of the remarkable panhellenic campaign,
victorious, brilliant,
celebrated, glorious
as no other had ever been glorified,
the incomparable: we emerged;
a great new Greek world.
We; the Alexandrians, the Antiocheans,
the Seleucians, and the numerous
rest of the Greeks of Egypt and Syria,
and of Media, and Persia, and the many others.
With our extensive territories,
with the varied action of thoughtful adaptations.
And the Common Greek Language
we carried to the heart of Bactria, to the Indians.
As if we were to talk of Lacedaemonians now!
5.2k
Someone asked me,
Who is a teacher?
A pathway to degree?
Or holds a position deeper!
‘Union of multiple roles’, I said,
Is a teacher’s true identity;
One who enlightens the road ahead,
Assisting selflessly which is a rarity.
Playing a huge role in our upbringing,
And giving us a constant support;
Teachers were there motivating,
In the times we felt lost.
They teach us the art of life;
Losing sleep for other’s child,
New and innovative ways they devise;
It is incomparable what they provide.
The ones who are always well-wishing
Steering to right path and escorting;
They instill a passion for learning,
Student’s success is their earning.
Sep 5, 2020
Sep 5, 2020 at 1:23 PM UTC
Everyone loves her,
Her actions and her words.
She's "Little miss popular"
Just because her tongue never slurs.
She's intimidating, and rude too.
She thinks she's incomparable,
Although she has a lot of things she needs to improve.
Her friends laugh at every word she says,
But I think the only reason they smile, is because they're afraid.
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 2:46 AM UTC
Feminine poetry is the most alluring.
The curvature of a woman's wrist around a pen is beautiful.
Their faces are knit in concentration so intense, yet
velvety smooth. Women are graceful- they glide along the page like an
ice skater. Feminine poetry has an elegant air incomparable with their counterpart.
There is
darkness, but with darkness comes strength.
Demons abound on their pages, bred from the hardships stretching through the millennia.
Dark inspiration breeds radiating beauty.
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 7:40 PM UTC
Every single
mistake of mine,
even the recurring ones,
patiently you edit within
and read as if it's fine,
nothing has ever gone wrong.
see!
what your love
incomparable
has to me done,
my poor, darling!
in my writing, they see
the grammar fully muddled,
so many words I spell wrong.
I see this, only when
others, bitterly, loudly complain
gentle soul, your'e forgiving,
but the world isn't,vengeful it seems,
don't you see the predators, prowling?
Why don't you consider the truth,
I am imperfect, want to be corrected
why not help me change,
tell me where I go wrong, urge
I'll certainly adore you more for that.
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 1:04 PM UTC
I am gazing at an evening sky,
So fascinating! That these words are deprived to imply
It seems like a huge canvas,
That nature has painted so brilliantly taking its own time.
And with all its instinct & power that made it a bit divine.
It is certainly an incomparable art piece,
With fringes of scattered clouds amidst reflecting the rambling rays of setting sun
Best illustrating the sapient strokes of most blended colours that an artist can learn.
And that soothing cold breeze that flows through my fingers strengthening the happiness of being here.
And the whole scenery so elegant,
Stealing my contemplation so well,
That I feel unable to move my eyes from there.
I kept on staring it till the last emitted ray of the drowning sun dove into the deep darkened horizon
and the twinkling stars came, indicating the advent of another night of this beautiful autumn season.
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 1:02 PM UTC
Ya wonda why I'm filled with so much passion and rage/
But that's what happ'n when ya lessen a man to a cage/
I haven't even unleashed the darkness/
Imagine a soul that's heartless/
Crowley is weak compared to the I beast/
Within me, 'n He I now release/
It in I and we have begun to feast/
Spit it out
Shut ya impudent mouth n listen/
Time ta quit ya fuckin' insolent dissin'/
Check me out I'm hookless/
Reckless/
You follow the text n I'm bookless/
Check this/
Determination look me in my Eyes/
Ya gunna stay in tha gutta, ***** ***** just to watch me rise/
RA!/
I am incomparable/
Can't match me, I'm too lyrical/
I am an assassin/
Breath deep,
I am the heir, with anthrax-in/
How I see it, You nuttin' but fails/
You in a row boat ***** n my ***** got sails/
Ya call me crazy/
Ya vision is hazy/
And ya thinkin is lazy/
What I know would make ya a sage see/
I'm filled with these higher optics/
Shouldn't need a telescope ta spot this/
but you do
What/
Hoss is Down, Livin life like love/
'N neva givin' a ****
I Come here to shut ya ta Hell up/
------------Chorus-----------
Duranged/
It's Dark n Strange/
You askin', "What am I"/
Darkness Fire burnin' opaque, I neva Die/
Strange Set by Ra, Look to tha Sky/
Nothin' weirder than I/
So Dark N Strange
I Am, Cryptic Poetic Hark outta Range/
Who is, Dark n Strange/
Ya frightened of tha commin' age/
Ya too tormented by change/
IT'S NOW
Needa label me "I Am" - The Omnipotent is Dark n Strange!
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 8:42 PM UTC
"It's not that bad,
I tastes good, I swear"
It was cold, and bitter, and vile
Yet I still ordered it
Every
Single
Time
Like a magical elixr
Of momentary freedom
From the wires of guilt
Welded into my neural pathways
Just enough-
To not cause suspicion
But not so much
That I'd collapse
Strong enough
To make me jittery,
Anxious, nauseated,
But still incomparable
To the unspeakable sin
Of sustenance,
So when I saw stars standing up,
Or buckled over at the knees,
And wondered why
It was even worth it?
I'd come to the same conclusion
Every
Single
Time
And it was this:
It doesn't matter anyways
Because I'll never
Be able
To stop.
May 30, 2021
May 30, 2021 at 9:49 PM UTC
Separate proudly.
You are an entity of your own.
Incomparable we all are.
For they are they and you are you.
For I am myself.
There is space;
tangible emptiness
that sustains our independence.
And with our bodies,
with our minds,
liberated and unique,
we move forth onto the paths which we forge..
carrying beautiful,
distinguishable quirks,
true to the individual.
We cannot be concerned
with where and how others step,
for our trail escapes us then.
And on our way await our gifts
and the places where we may leave ours in exchange.
Another's trail I shall not seek,
and shall not want to find.
For only one is mine.
Jul 29, 2012
Jul 29, 2012 at 10:15 PM UTC
she knew then
the ways of this world
she knew then
of clenched fists
she knew then
her future
her place
her face, and all the weight that it carried
she knew then
of all the doors shut
she knew
she knew
she knew
of incomparable power
of beautiful strength
of divinity and all that is sacred
of wisdom and benevolence
she knew
she knows
we know
so she straightened her crown and rose
Sep 28, 2021
Sep 28, 2021 at 11:28 AM UTC
It's always just a competition between you and I.
You'll always win,
and you know why.
Your beauty unattainable,
Your knowledge incomparable,
You're just another version.
A better version.
An incomparable version.
of me.
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 10:35 PM UTC