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"inconceivable" poems
Can you feel all the suffering, can you see it? Stop embracing the hate of your own humanity, just quit it Why all the hypocrisy? Challenge your democracy Aim for enlightenment Fight against all ill torment Oppression, alienation, inequality The government's manipulative utilities Explore your human aptitude Your mind and your magnitude Because passion is power and You can make all evil cower Work to open your third eye Don't cry or comply, but rather ask "why?" Empathy and compassion are most important Without them, moral principles remain impotent Our world is nothing compared to the entire universe We are so small, egoistic, and it's getting worse Focused on all of the wrongs ideals Creating terrible and false ordeals Our world is cruel and mean Too many people die hungry There's no such thing as equality or true justice It does not exist in this realm of consciousness If only we could shift the system and our ways Then things would continue to fall into place But change is virtually unachievable Especially when entities with just intents are inconceivable Human beings are clueless, trapped in a trance Don't let yourself fall victim to your ignorance You need to expand your knowledge and your perspective Aim to be more pensive and introspective Challenge absolutely everything you are told Form your own beliefs, don't let your mind be controlled Remove yourself from conformity and complacency And you'll realize a multitude of problems, that I guarantee *You can't trust anything
 Hear what I'm saying 
 No you cant trust anything 
Believing is damaging
 Creating is everything, it's promising Stop adhering to societal norms
 Why do you conform
 To all that
 The government tells us
 All that society spells for us Why don't you realize
 Wake up from all the lies
 The world is an intricate place, that you can't replace
 But you can change your ways and your pace 
Create some displacement in the system Stand up your rights
 And what you believe in
 Be genuine 
Imagine
 Not one person, thing, or system
 Can tell us, control us, conform us* With enough minds open and motivated We can help those oppressed and alienated We can change this race for the better Let's all work to be that kind of trendsetter Come on, let's start a movement So we can see some real improvement In our world, our ways, and our wisdom But most importantly in the system
0
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 3:29 PM UTC
evynne-doue-1
Corruption
Can you feel all the suffering, can you see it? Stop embracing the hate of your own humanity, just quit it Why all the hypocrisy? Challenge your democracy Aim for enlightenment Fight against all ill torment Oppression, alienation, inequality The government's manipulative utilities Explore your human aptitude Your mind and your magnitude Because passion is power and You can make all evil cower Work to open your third eye Don't cry or comply, but rather ask "why?" Empathy and compassion are most important Without them, moral principles remain impotent Our world is nothing compared to the entire universe We are so small, egoistic, and it's getting worse Focused on all of the wrongs ideals Creating terrible and false ordeals Our world is cruel and mean Too many people die hungry There's no such thing as equality or true justice It does not exist in this realm of consciousness If only we could shift the system and our ways Then things would continue to fall into place But change is virtually unachievable Especially when entities with just intents are inconceivable Human beings are clueless, trapped in a trance Don't let yourself fall victim to your ignorance You need to expand your knowledge and your perspective Aim to be more pensive and introspective Challenge absolutely everything you are told Form your own beliefs, don't let your mind be controlled Remove yourself from conformity and complacency And you'll realize a multitude of problems, that I guarantee *You can't trust anything
 Hear what I'm saying 
 No you cant trust anything 
Believing is damaging
 Creating is everything, it's promising Stop adhering to societal norms
 Why do you conform
 To all that
 The government tells us
 All that society spells for us Why don't you realize
 Wake up from all the lies
 The world is an intricate place, that you can't replace
 But you can change your ways and your pace 
Create some displacement in the system Stand up your rights
 And what you believe in
 Be genuine 
Imagine
 Not one person, thing, or system
 Can tell us, control us, conform us* With enough minds open and motivated We can help those oppressed and alienated We can change this race for the better Let's all work to be that kind of trendsetter Come on, let's start a movement So we can see some real improvement In our world, our ways, and our wisdom But most importantly in the system
Continue reading...
65
Ganges, dawn, a luminous haze over the water. The bathing ghats are busy with the faithful. (But India is inconceivable without faith.)   The robed bathers, raising river water to the sun, pouring it back to mother Ganges, are they worshipping the sun or the river? For them God is everywhere and everything.  Water, sun, the river and the twinkling lamps floating on it are part of one consciousness. The burning ghats too (such quantities of wood stacked ready) are beginning their day. The funeral party approaching in respectful haste have a job to do. They build their pile, move the body to the wood, start the fire. I watch, but not for long. This moment, so intimate, so public, reminds me I am an intruder here. The ashes will return to Ganga unwitnessed by me. Away from the river, the vendors of tea do their trade among the stalls. Monkeys, cheerfully pilfering, are chased away half-heartedly, for they are Hanuman’s representatives, and they, with the sacred, garbage-clearing cows, are part of the one consciousness. In this land all are “the faithful”, everything is God’s creation. In this poverty is richness.
0
Nov 29, 2016
Nov 29, 2016 at 2:58 PM UTC
paul-hansford
Varanasi *
Ganges, dawn, a luminous haze over the water. The bathing ghats are busy with the faithful. (But India is inconceivable without faith.)   The robed bathers, raising river water to the sun, pouring it back to mother Ganges, are they worshipping the sun or the river? For them God is everywhere and everything.  Water, sun, the river and the twinkling lamps floating on it are part of one consciousness. The burning ghats too (such quantities of wood stacked ready) are beginning their day. The funeral party approaching in respectful haste have a job to do. They build their pile, move the body to the wood, start the fire. I watch, but not for long. This moment, so intimate, so public, reminds me I am an intruder here. The ashes will return to Ganga unwitnessed by me. Away from the river, the vendors of tea do their trade among the stalls. Monkeys, cheerfully pilfering, are chased away half-heartedly, for they are Hanuman’s representatives, and they, with the sacred, garbage-clearing cows, are part of the one consciousness. In this land all are “the faithful”, everything is God’s creation. In this poverty is richness.
Continue reading...
29
I'd heard about problems with police hard to hear harder to believe personally I never had a problem oh a few well deserved speeding tickets probably cut a break no definitely I drove very fast especially in the turns roll-the-tires fast in the turns that was me and the more I heard the faster I turned as a young kid I applied and was accepted to six colleges six for six piece of cake why the stress my SAT score equated to an I.Q. of 1 above plant life accepted open arms those WASPs loved me graduate school one for one       best in the country bar none MBA with honors that was easy they called it the golden passport yes passports are even faster I never had problems with band-aids        the bank the insurance company       the healthcare system never turned down       for a credit card car loan life insurance policy       or request for a specialist experience is the best teacher       and the more I learned the less I wanted to know       and the faster I turned then I learned    about certain specifics       certain policies with regard to traffic stops bank loans rental property heath care voting rights marriage read the color purple and then that invaluable government          syphilis experiment that would have been inconceivable        even to doctor mengele that the star spangled banner        has more than one stanza?   really there were four stanzas? MY country ‘tis of ME       and it was making me feel ***** learned that no one       voluntarily held that flag up that hellish night       o’er the ramparts WE watched as slave and freedmen               were ordered       to their near certain death with the threat of absolute       certain death then I watched a cop        shoot a kid in the back               in cold blood near a merry-go-round on a playground in baltimore maryland I liked baltimore fast very fast he emptied the 10 round clip of a semi-automatic 9mm Glock 27 into THAT kid's back no hesitation ****** baltimore baltimore baltimore baltimore I hit the brakes hard       on those fast decades and decades generations generations generations       of turning I slowed down way way way down       stopped took a deep deep deeper breath then did what I always did and do best I turned turned turned I turned around and as I turned I woke to kneel
0
Mar 8, 2019
Mar 8, 2019 at 11:05 AM UTC
GirardTournesol
As I Turned I Woke
I'd heard about problems with police hard to hear harder to believe personally I never had a problem oh a few well deserved speeding tickets probably cut a break no definitely I drove very fast especially in the turns roll-the-tires fast in the turns that was me and the more I heard the faster I turned as a young kid I applied and was accepted to six colleges six for six piece of cake why the stress my SAT score equated to an I.Q. of 1 above plant life accepted open arms those WASPs loved me graduate school one for one       best in the country bar none MBA with honors that was easy they called it the golden passport yes passports are even faster I never had problems with band-aids        the bank the insurance company       the healthcare system never turned down       for a credit card car loan life insurance policy       or request for a specialist experience is the best teacher       and the more I learned the less I wanted to know       and the faster I turned then I learned    about certain specifics       certain policies with regard to traffic stops bank loans rental property heath care voting rights marriage read the color purple and then that invaluable government          syphilis experiment that would have been inconceivable        even to doctor mengele that the star spangled banner        has more than one stanza?   really there were four stanzas? MY country ‘tis of ME       and it was making me feel ***** learned that no one       voluntarily held that flag up that hellish night       o’er the ramparts WE watched as slave and freedmen               were ordered       to their near certain death with the threat of absolute       certain death then I watched a cop        shoot a kid in the back               in cold blood near a merry-go-round on a playground in baltimore maryland I liked baltimore fast very fast he emptied the 10 round clip of a semi-automatic 9mm Glock 27 into THAT kid's back no hesitation ****** baltimore baltimore baltimore baltimore I hit the brakes hard       on those fast decades and decades generations generations generations       of turning I slowed down way way way down       stopped took a deep deep deeper breath then did what I always did and do best I turned turned turned I turned around and as I turned I woke to kneel
Continue reading...
79
*hitherto i naively challenged my decision to enter an ominous existence a vicious maze veiled in obscurity inconceivable to navigate without the accumulation of bruises, heartache, and psychic mutilation the torment’s ache so unfathomable i begged to evaporate beseeching death’s arrival and with the dexterity of a masterful wizard i magically spun threads of my shredded soul into a mangled ball of mental lacerations then stealthily in the opaque of the night i rushed the frigid black ocean’s high tide and deluging myself in the ebony water i buried the battered ball now deeply eclipsed in the onyx abyss it sapped all my strength to hold it under drowning in the wave’s of sea motion stinging salt alive on my pours gasping for air i surrendered my grip releasing my marred orb of élan vital capitulating to the sand on the beach i ceded the fight and watched the sphere roll unraveling it glistened against the white sand an opalescent tapestry lit by twilight mirroring the stars against the coal sky in the lustrous lunar midnight reflected back by silver moonlight littered with specks of fluorescent insight astonished i drew in my breath as i read words interlaced in the untangled web the wounds are there creating a looking glass peer in and you will heal your own consciousness ©2016janetaylor
0
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 8:06 AM UTC
jane-taylor
looking glass
*hitherto i naively challenged my decision to enter an ominous existence a vicious maze veiled in obscurity inconceivable to navigate without the accumulation of bruises, heartache, and psychic mutilation the torment’s ache so unfathomable i begged to evaporate beseeching death’s arrival and with the dexterity of a masterful wizard i magically spun threads of my shredded soul into a mangled ball of mental lacerations then stealthily in the opaque of the night i rushed the frigid black ocean’s high tide and deluging myself in the ebony water i buried the battered ball now deeply eclipsed in the onyx abyss it sapped all my strength to hold it under drowning in the wave’s of sea motion stinging salt alive on my pours gasping for air i surrendered my grip releasing my marred orb of élan vital capitulating to the sand on the beach i ceded the fight and watched the sphere roll unraveling it glistened against the white sand an opalescent tapestry lit by twilight mirroring the stars against the coal sky in the lustrous lunar midnight reflected back by silver moonlight littered with specks of fluorescent insight astonished i drew in my breath as i read words interlaced in the untangled web the wounds are there creating a looking glass peer in and you will heal your own consciousness ©2016janetaylor
Continue reading...
36
how do you paint water, or clouds? I could read poetry for the brief, of my of remaining life, however brief, and never be satiated, of love, and streams of water, never stilled, always running in patterns that exist, but for milliseconds, admired by clouds born in, of, a moment of re-formation that is perpetuity long: unending shape shifting, like the freedom of flowing water currents, forming, reforming and unthinkable, nay, inconceivable that human eyes or their spoken words could capture their shiny white foamy essence But of love, that we can do, paint, design, recreate its endless loops of undulations, like the radiating circularity of a pebble dropped gently to its burial sight in a quiet pond. Humans know, understand and excel at clasping and grasping at the synapsing of human cells from differing bodies: the exogenous erogenous of human touch that like the clouds and the water, who could paint that, who capable of capturing said sensations that wrack and enliven the body with invisible interior chemical reactions. I cannot. Thankfully better men and women have treatised  their entreaties to the powers of the universe and been rewarded with the skilled delicacy of weaving human tapestries, the milliseconds of connectivity, eclectic and electrifying of different currents and differing amperage’s forming and reforming like water moving, just  like the clouds changing in response to the externalities of wind and gravity and all the forces of nature that encourage us to study and stare at these flows, hoping to entrance them into standing still for but a moment, and instead, mesmerizing us into standing motionless for hours in awe of their freedom. Love’s undulations too mesmerizing, and freezing us into place, or alternatively caucus to run endlessly arms extending, flying though not airborne, rocketing us upwards while feet never budging, but finding good wards, masterful metaphors to recreate and thus to share the fabulous mystery of this thing we know as love. 2:58AM Friday jul 22 (jewel 22) of the 23rd year of the 21st Century. O.L.P.
0
Jul 21, 2023
Jul 21, 2023 at 3:05 AM UTC
onlylovepoetry
How do you paint water, or clouds? Or write of love?
how do you paint water, or clouds? I could read poetry for the brief, of my of remaining life, however brief, and never be satiated, of love, and streams of water, never stilled, always running in patterns that exist, but for milliseconds, admired by clouds born in, of, a moment of re-formation that is perpetuity long: unending shape shifting, like the freedom of flowing water currents, forming, reforming and unthinkable, nay, inconceivable that human eyes or their spoken words could capture their shiny white foamy essence But of love, that we can do, paint, design, recreate its endless loops of undulations, like the radiating circularity of a pebble dropped gently to its burial sight in a quiet pond. Humans know, understand and excel at clasping and grasping at the synapsing of human cells from differing bodies: the exogenous erogenous of human touch that like the clouds and the water, who could paint that, who capable of capturing said sensations that wrack and enliven the body with invisible interior chemical reactions. I cannot. Thankfully better men and women have treatised  their entreaties to the powers of the universe and been rewarded with the skilled delicacy of weaving human tapestries, the milliseconds of connectivity, eclectic and electrifying of different currents and differing amperage’s forming and reforming like water moving, just  like the clouds changing in response to the externalities of wind and gravity and all the forces of nature that encourage us to study and stare at these flows, hoping to entrance them into standing still for but a moment, and instead, mesmerizing us into standing motionless for hours in awe of their freedom. Love’s undulations too mesmerizing, and freezing us into place, or alternatively caucus to run endlessly arms extending, flying though not airborne, rocketing us upwards while feet never budging, but finding good wards, masterful metaphors to recreate and thus to share the fabulous mystery of this thing we know as love. 2:58AM Friday jul 22 (jewel 22) of the 23rd year of the 21st Century. O.L.P.
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47
Worm eats through to penetrate. Trespasses, what ***** deeds? What ichor is this to venerate? How dare eat, how dare have needs? Godly viral load unbeatable, no t-cell left to count. Wriggling in puddle inconceivable, **** upon this crucified mount. Lazarus, risen from the dead, no dog now licks your wounds. Lepers now banshees are instead social workers which we swoon. And the Roman laws and judges continue blame, hand down sentence, as degenerative generation smudges out from existence, *** penance. Dissected and pinned against wall, this writhing experiment oozes. Whilst priests and politicians naw, compassion and AIDS funding loses.
0
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
pj-poesy
Crucify The Worm
Worm eats through to penetrate. Trespasses, what ***** deeds? What ichor is this to venerate? How dare eat, how dare have needs? Godly viral load unbeatable, no t-cell left to count. Wriggling in puddle inconceivable, **** upon this crucified mount. Lazarus, risen from the dead, no dog now licks your wounds. Lepers now banshees are instead social workers which we swoon. And the Roman laws and judges continue blame, hand down sentence, as degenerative generation smudges out from existence, *** penance. Dissected and pinned against wall, this writhing experiment oozes. Whilst priests and politicians naw, compassion and AIDS funding loses.
Continue reading...
20
When I say I am afraid of dying alone, I am not asking for those I love to die with me. I am voicing my pain. The pain of waking alone. The emptiness of each day- surrounded by so many connecting with none. Driving home alone knowing no one will ask how was my day. Cooking for one. The overwhelming sadness in a kitchen that once held so many. Now reduced to a weekly call (if I'm lucky). The dreams of growing old with you Was a nightmare which was well worth burying. And the chance of finding love at my age, is exponentially - inconceivable absurd improbable dubious. So when I say I will die alone, I am referring to my everyday mundane, routine. That is slowing draining the life from me.
0
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 11:07 PM UTC
scz5
Dying Alone
When I say I am afraid of dying alone, I am not asking for those I love to die with me. I am voicing my pain. The pain of waking alone. The emptiness of each day- surrounded by so many connecting with none. Driving home alone knowing no one will ask how was my day. Cooking for one. The overwhelming sadness in a kitchen that once held so many. Now reduced to a weekly call (if I'm lucky). The dreams of growing old with you Was a nightmare which was well worth burying. And the chance of finding love at my age, is exponentially - inconceivable absurd improbable dubious. So when I say I will die alone, I am referring to my everyday mundane, routine. That is slowing draining the life from me.
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27
To die, To fall, To lose, In an act of, Life-giving, Spirit lifting, Victory, Is simply, Nonsensical, And yet, Perfect, Completely, Irrational, And yet, Thought out, And so, Incomprehensible, With human mind, But absolutely, And definitely, The right thing to do, Because God loved the world so much, He would let his own creation, Take his only son from him, To save his creation, From the hands of evil. And the best thing? The most amazing and inconceivable thing of all, Is that he did it for all mankind. Athiest Agnostic Christian Jew Muslim Sikh Hindu Buddhist Black White Straight Gay Lesbian Bisexual Asexual Boy Girl Bigender Transgender Agender Young Old Kind Cruel Happy Sad Rich Poor Healthy Ill Free Enslaved Safe Afraid Intelligent Stupid Deaf Blind Disabled Handicapped Single Taken Married Divorced Remarried Widowed Lost Found Persecuted Persecutor Murderer Self-harmer Suicidal Unloved Adored Popular Ignored Beautiful Ugly Guilty Innocent Outcast Desperate Autistic Bulimic Alcoholic Bipolar Addict Dyslexic Anorexic Schizophrenic SAVED Every single human being ever born is saved.
0
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
parsavagely-kompenere
Oxymoron God
To die, To fall, To lose, In an act of, Life-giving, Spirit lifting, Victory, Is simply, Nonsensical, And yet, Perfect, Completely, Irrational, And yet, Thought out, And so, Incomprehensible, With human mind, But absolutely, And definitely, The right thing to do, Because God loved the world so much, He would let his own creation, Take his only son from him, To save his creation, From the hands of evil. And the best thing? The most amazing and inconceivable thing of all, Is that he did it for all mankind. Athiest Agnostic Christian Jew Muslim Sikh Hindu Buddhist Black White Straight Gay Lesbian Bisexual Asexual Boy Girl Bigender Transgender Agender Young Old Kind Cruel Happy Sad Rich Poor Healthy Ill Free Enslaved Safe Afraid Intelligent Stupid Deaf Blind Disabled Handicapped Single Taken Married Divorced Remarried Widowed Lost Found Persecuted Persecutor Murderer Self-harmer Suicidal Unloved Adored Popular Ignored Beautiful Ugly Guilty Innocent Outcast Desperate Autistic Bulimic Alcoholic Bipolar Addict Dyslexic Anorexic Schizophrenic SAVED Every single human being ever born is saved.
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102
Somehow, unbefuddled, it all ties together, The happy endings get tied, knots well made, Sleep comes easy, the light dims slowly, finely, Clarity, everywhere, not for taking, just for asking, Wanting is off limits, even inconceivable, and the poem. Why, even the poem finishes itself, and to all a very, Good Night a grownup lullaby
0
Jul 21, 2025
Jul 21, 2025 at 8:54 PM UTC
nat-lipstadt
At the end of the day,
Somehow, unbefuddled, it all ties together, The happy endings get tied, knots well made, Sleep comes easy, the light dims slowly, finely, Clarity, everywhere, not for taking, just for asking, Wanting is off limits, even inconceivable, and the poem. Why, even the poem finishes itself, and to all a very, Good Night a grownup lullaby
Continue reading...
7
Walk Down cracked sidewalks but forget where and why the going started. Lost in the chaos of moving feet whose unity lies in their organic flow, Perspectives shift to some new truth: experiencing its constant displacement. Here As bodies carry me forward, they rush to the rhythm of those who desire our desires: I smile and laugh at voices screaming out from billboards and TVs “What you need is need itself! Don’t look within, but to ME!” Drift Down the street and pause at the window’s reflection. Behind the still face staring back lies the world’s movement: With purpose distorted by its realization, the present bursts forth out of nothing: Pushing Onward from some inconceivable lack, Towards a resolution that will not resolve. Here I close my eyes. Here there is the silence between thought and its realization: In which the meaninglessness of boundaries can be discerned. Here I find myself fall away into everything. Here I find only Love.
0
Oct 12, 2011
Oct 12, 2011 at 4:44 PM UTC
the-they
Displacement
Walk Down cracked sidewalks but forget where and why the going started. Lost in the chaos of moving feet whose unity lies in their organic flow, Perspectives shift to some new truth: experiencing its constant displacement. Here As bodies carry me forward, they rush to the rhythm of those who desire our desires: I smile and laugh at voices screaming out from billboards and TVs “What you need is need itself! Don’t look within, but to ME!” Drift Down the street and pause at the window’s reflection. Behind the still face staring back lies the world’s movement: With purpose distorted by its realization, the present bursts forth out of nothing: Pushing Onward from some inconceivable lack, Towards a resolution that will not resolve. Here I close my eyes. Here there is the silence between thought and its realization: In which the meaninglessness of boundaries can be discerned. Here I find myself fall away into everything. Here I find only Love.
Continue reading...
20
But. I know you are, but. But what? Is this so inconceivable? So inconvenient? We don't control these things, not forever. Perhaps when we're young and scared, So when we finally settle in, into our own skins, everyone has something to say. "But this isn't who you used to be; this isn't who I know-" Well, I'm more myself than ever before, and I refuse to fall into your perfect view. I feel safe just out of focus, and there is where I'll stay.
0
Jul 16, 2021
Jul 16, 2021 at 10:28 PM UTC
MessageintheSky
Just Out Of Focus
But. I know you are, but. But what? Is this so inconceivable? So inconvenient? We don't control these things, not forever. Perhaps when we're young and scared, So when we finally settle in, into our own skins, everyone has something to say. "But this isn't who you used to be; this isn't who I know-" Well, I'm more myself than ever before, and I refuse to fall into your perfect view. I feel safe just out of focus, and there is where I'll stay.
Continue reading...
23
in some sort of twisted way i've missed having someone make me spit that wondrous insignificance that comes with letting somebody under your skin every word out of their mouth an attack & every action they take purposely meant to exclude you to tease you to please them to watch you squirm letting somebody in it's even worse when they sneak through a window without you noticing & then it's over they tighten their grip around your rationale your compassion your free will and suddenly everything is about them and everything brings you to your knees and you want to cry out and scream but you wouldn't want to disturb them it's been a while since i've jumped through hoops but light them on fire suspend them over impossible heights and foolishly my heart will guide me towards doom grounded in absolute certainty but fight cry struggle laugh dissect yourself as her every breath magnifies every insecurity you thought you had completely buried yes in some sick way i've missed being made so sick with care with worry that i don't stand tall enough in the eyes of some inconceivable creature an inexorably important omnipotent mind-numbing force in complete control in short, i am ****** i've missed being ******
0
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
ej-aghassi
full circle
in some sort of twisted way i've missed having someone make me spit that wondrous insignificance that comes with letting somebody under your skin every word out of their mouth an attack & every action they take purposely meant to exclude you to tease you to please them to watch you squirm letting somebody in it's even worse when they sneak through a window without you noticing & then it's over they tighten their grip around your rationale your compassion your free will and suddenly everything is about them and everything brings you to your knees and you want to cry out and scream but you wouldn't want to disturb them it's been a while since i've jumped through hoops but light them on fire suspend them over impossible heights and foolishly my heart will guide me towards doom grounded in absolute certainty but fight cry struggle laugh dissect yourself as her every breath magnifies every insecurity you thought you had completely buried yes in some sick way i've missed being made so sick with care with worry that i don't stand tall enough in the eyes of some inconceivable creature an inexorably important omnipotent mind-numbing force in complete control in short, i am ****** i've missed being ******
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49
*how many ways may i undo you ... each sublime i crave your vermilion waters copper gilded plush falling to my hungry naked mouth drug euphoria drooling ***** toy as i stroke your ankles with tender fingers and brush your delicate feet with my lips before i lift you floating girl and you lose yourself thanking God for the inconceivable pleasure of unbearable pain as you are split and ruptured open oh pink flowers splashing in a stained tub of blood like a blotter sanguine perfume mouth melting kisses heaping vulva's detonations adorations petition am i not vulturous holding you in my warm arms while i whisper in the caverns of your hollow breath that you mean the world to me i drink rain storming from torrid gates howling from your cleaved ******* and unfurled belly your eyes moons trembling immersed in your fathomless yawning soul as you take your last breaths tell me baby is it tender cruel are angels kissing you yet are you caressed by powder pearlescent clouds are you butter on the lips of God while dark curtains flutter and shut while i weep and convulse in heaping waves of ecstasy there is only you like heavens  thunder*
0
Jun 4, 2017
Jun 4, 2017 at 3:55 PM UTC
zebrablack
FLOATING GIRL
*how many ways may i undo you ... each sublime i crave your vermilion waters copper gilded plush falling to my hungry naked mouth drug euphoria drooling ***** toy as i stroke your ankles with tender fingers and brush your delicate feet with my lips before i lift you floating girl and you lose yourself thanking God for the inconceivable pleasure of unbearable pain as you are split and ruptured open oh pink flowers splashing in a stained tub of blood like a blotter sanguine perfume mouth melting kisses heaping vulva's detonations adorations petition am i not vulturous holding you in my warm arms while i whisper in the caverns of your hollow breath that you mean the world to me i drink rain storming from torrid gates howling from your cleaved ******* and unfurled belly your eyes moons trembling immersed in your fathomless yawning soul as you take your last breaths tell me baby is it tender cruel are angels kissing you yet are you caressed by powder pearlescent clouds are you butter on the lips of God while dark curtains flutter and shut while i weep and convulse in heaping waves of ecstasy there is only you like heavens  thunder*
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46
Mesons, quarks, neutrinos, too Drawn inexorably Into eternity To a finite point Called singularity; Rushing, streaming Toward one juncture, To a destination With unknown structure. Swirling, speeding Into the abyss, Reason, logic Cease to exist. Space and time Merge in disarray, Matter altered too, No night, no day. Warped, transmuted Realities, Become twisted, melded Finalities. Inconceivable dimensions Reign supreme, Nature’s laws violated To extreme. Crossing the event horizon, No turning back, Into the precipice, Down a void of black; Facing the vortex, Light gasps in disbelief, A terminal journey starts Without relief. Stars and galaxies Give a sigh As they spiral in And begin to die. One day we too Will meet this fate; The only questions are The place and date.
0
Mar 13, 2010
Mar 13, 2010 at 8:10 PM UTC
black-swan
Black Hole
Mesons, quarks, neutrinos, too Drawn inexorably Into eternity To a finite point Called singularity; Rushing, streaming Toward one juncture, To a destination With unknown structure. Swirling, speeding Into the abyss, Reason, logic Cease to exist. Space and time Merge in disarray, Matter altered too, No night, no day. Warped, transmuted Realities, Become twisted, melded Finalities. Inconceivable dimensions Reign supreme, Nature’s laws violated To extreme. Crossing the event horizon, No turning back, Into the precipice, Down a void of black; Facing the vortex, Light gasps in disbelief, A terminal journey starts Without relief. Stars and galaxies Give a sigh As they spiral in And begin to die. One day we too Will meet this fate; The only questions are The place and date.
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41
I lay here, paralyzed, under the vibrant evening sky. Clouds float on by, this, I've never seen. Such beauty before me, I've only heard of in stories. It's mesmerizing to see, almost unbelievable. What's inconceivable to me, is that we're the only ones here. There must be more out there, in each tear in the space time continuum. Birds fly overhead, singing songs to the dead. Some words are better unsaid, her bed will be empty tonight. Night slowly approaches, as darkness encroaches the light, the sunsets on another day. Paralyzed, I close my eyes, as I lay outside my shattered car, only a few feet away.
0
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 11:24 PM UTC
barry-pietrantonio
In The Space Time Continuum
I lay here, paralyzed, under the vibrant evening sky. Clouds float on by, this, I've never seen. Such beauty before me, I've only heard of in stories. It's mesmerizing to see, almost unbelievable. What's inconceivable to me, is that we're the only ones here. There must be more out there, in each tear in the space time continuum. Birds fly overhead, singing songs to the dead. Some words are better unsaid, her bed will be empty tonight. Night slowly approaches, as darkness encroaches the light, the sunsets on another day. Paralyzed, I close my eyes, as I lay outside my shattered car, only a few feet away.
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22
I'm trading sticks of cigarette for a poem Bottles of beer for a few more Whiskeys make me forlorn Why not a few more poems So I scribble and scribble some more I'm trading my loneliness for lines Rhymed or rhymeless, why should I mind When the please the eyes and tickles the mind I sure will memorize and mimic them like a mime So I'm still scribbling on this torn paper of mine I'm trading my hearts pain Trading it for a paper and a pen Like a painter ready to paint I deep my petite paint brush in a bowl of paint Dap dap, little dots, strokes and dashes as I dare to paint Little by little the whole picture is becoming plain I'm trading all love's tears Tears shade in secrecy for a poem shared publicly Though seemingly absurd but poems brings this inconceivable peace. So I'm scribbling and scribbling my way to serenity. I trade it all for a piece of poem I may not have made the point But I've washed clean my plough And starring at this beautiful not-so-beautiful poem I have read and reread it that it is starting to sound like a song. Reading one last time, "my best trade ever".
0
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 7:16 PM UTC
tee2emm
My Best Trade
I'm trading sticks of cigarette for a poem Bottles of beer for a few more Whiskeys make me forlorn Why not a few more poems So I scribble and scribble some more I'm trading my loneliness for lines Rhymed or rhymeless, why should I mind When the please the eyes and tickles the mind I sure will memorize and mimic them like a mime So I'm still scribbling on this torn paper of mine I'm trading my hearts pain Trading it for a paper and a pen Like a painter ready to paint I deep my petite paint brush in a bowl of paint Dap dap, little dots, strokes and dashes as I dare to paint Little by little the whole picture is becoming plain I'm trading all love's tears Tears shade in secrecy for a poem shared publicly Though seemingly absurd but poems brings this inconceivable peace. So I'm scribbling and scribbling my way to serenity. I trade it all for a piece of poem I may not have made the point But I've washed clean my plough And starring at this beautiful not-so-beautiful poem I have read and reread it that it is starting to sound like a song. Reading one last time, "my best trade ever".
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26
So celebrate with bread and wine, With meat and lager, With laughter and song, And the slippery kiss of that woman, Eyeing you from over there. Outside your door ... another awaits. One who has always been near, Persuading you with stars. Promising nothing, yet granting everything. It is inconceivable, So I won't even bother. But with each passing day, You step closer to that revelation, Whether by choice or by fate. And when the door opens for you, You may find yourself holding a cold hand. Her skin is stone, unforgiving, and rigid. Her silent steps follow close behind. Your shadow. Your mistress. Regret
0
Dec 1, 2010
Dec 1, 2010 at 5:21 PM UTC
nicholas-laurent
No Time For Nostalgia
So celebrate with bread and wine, With meat and lager, With laughter and song, And the slippery kiss of that woman, Eyeing you from over there. Outside your door ... another awaits. One who has always been near, Persuading you with stars. Promising nothing, yet granting everything. It is inconceivable, So I won't even bother. But with each passing day, You step closer to that revelation, Whether by choice or by fate. And when the door opens for you, You may find yourself holding a cold hand. Her skin is stone, unforgiving, and rigid. Her silent steps follow close behind. Your shadow. Your mistress. Regret
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20
“Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being “in love” which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two. - Captain Corelli’s Mandolin. nov 1, 09 you had me standing with chattering teeth in the novemeber chill. the first time i had spoken to you in weeks. i was holding myself together so well. and then i broke. like you knew i would. hell we both knew it. red box.hat.scent.shirts.skin.warmth.silence.depth.heart.wrecking. were held to the touch of wrong. the sweet eyes of hidden truth. you have now set me up twice but i like being taken advantage of when its you taking.i am the perfect descripiton of your sweetest downfall, your only downfall.i want this all to come. come straight into me again like you always did. i mean i saw you smile when you wanted to walk away. but something in you made you stay.you could have broken my grip in half but instead you laughed at the jokes you wished you didnt have to hear. and i know this never happened. we never happened.ever. so im writing about a night that didnt exist.your hands slipping over skin.trembling under the brush of your hand.shaking all over like it was happening all over again. “everything is so ****** up now. what do we have to lose now? everythings all ****** up.” “am i just going crazy cuz i miss you?”-atmosphere. i think you were impressed by the outcome of my words.
0
Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 1:38 PM UTC
samber-saenz
Cover the Roots
“Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being “in love” which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two. - Captain Corelli’s Mandolin. nov 1, 09 you had me standing with chattering teeth in the novemeber chill. the first time i had spoken to you in weeks. i was holding myself together so well. and then i broke. like you knew i would. hell we both knew it. red box.hat.scent.shirts.skin.warmth.silence.depth.heart.wrecking. were held to the touch of wrong. the sweet eyes of hidden truth. you have now set me up twice but i like being taken advantage of when its you taking.i am the perfect descripiton of your sweetest downfall, your only downfall.i want this all to come. come straight into me again like you always did. i mean i saw you smile when you wanted to walk away. but something in you made you stay.you could have broken my grip in half but instead you laughed at the jokes you wished you didnt have to hear. and i know this never happened. we never happened.ever. so im writing about a night that didnt exist.your hands slipping over skin.trembling under the brush of your hand.shaking all over like it was happening all over again. “everything is so ****** up now. what do we have to lose now? everythings all ****** up.” “am i just going crazy cuz i miss you?”-atmosphere. i think you were impressed by the outcome of my words.
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8
be my therapist massage both my temples from whence these poems originate will your fingertips perform tailored alterations, will they insert strange spices and your favors, unfamiliar but imagined overtime desirable flavors, thus resolving the question that my answers perpetually fail, to satisfy my unending need to understand: *how do my temples speed the heart bring forth whole poem utterances inconceivable,* reminding me to remember what has yet to occur? she grins, whimsies me and suggests: that’s why they have been appointed anointed announced as the Temples of You 2:19am 2/19/18
0
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 2:43 AM UTC
nat-lipstadt
the temple of You
be my therapist massage both my temples from whence these poems originate will your fingertips perform tailored alterations, will they insert strange spices and your favors, unfamiliar but imagined overtime desirable flavors, thus resolving the question that my answers perpetually fail, to satisfy my unending need to understand: *how do my temples speed the heart bring forth whole poem utterances inconceivable,* reminding me to remember what has yet to occur? she grins, whimsies me and suggests: that’s why they have been appointed anointed announced as the Temples of You 2:19am 2/19/18
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17
In the year 3131 They come to devour our suns Terrible, godlike, interstellar giants Inconceivable beyond all reason and science. Humanity and all her colonies, Divided amongst the galaxies, Finally united once and for all For our race dare not fall! To eliminate the threat of annihilation We constructed planet-sized stations That house massive and powerful guns To protect and defend our vulnerable suns. As our fears vanished behind us Those in control sought to rebind us For systems of authority never change, Not even with pervasive freedom in range. With the powerful distracted by their lust, For control over every speck of dust, There emerged a demented cult That believes our race is at fault, And beings that come from above Do so out of divine, parental love. These naive and delusional zealots, Inspired by avarice long embellished, By a ruthless society lacking empathy, Have developed an ever enduring apathy. Seeking to destroy our only defenses, They mount violent and ****** offensives, Their rugged, disorderly fleets crucify As humanity is unable to reunify. However, there is another cooperative effort, A last stand, self-organized endeavor, This vigilante group battles cultist detestables They call themselves The Solar Sentinels. Bound by a principled, passionate collaboration, The Solar Sentinels defend all people and nations, Engineers and military minds come together To ensure our survival and prosper, whatsoever. Now, one existential question remains: Will humanity break free of its chains, Awaken, realize that we are all one, Disregard old orders and save our suns?
0
Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 2:43 PM UTC
Outside_Words
THE SOLAR SENTINELS
In the year 3131 They come to devour our suns Terrible, godlike, interstellar giants Inconceivable beyond all reason and science. Humanity and all her colonies, Divided amongst the galaxies, Finally united once and for all For our race dare not fall! To eliminate the threat of annihilation We constructed planet-sized stations That house massive and powerful guns To protect and defend our vulnerable suns. As our fears vanished behind us Those in control sought to rebind us For systems of authority never change, Not even with pervasive freedom in range. With the powerful distracted by their lust, For control over every speck of dust, There emerged a demented cult That believes our race is at fault, And beings that come from above Do so out of divine, parental love. These naive and delusional zealots, Inspired by avarice long embellished, By a ruthless society lacking empathy, Have developed an ever enduring apathy. Seeking to destroy our only defenses, They mount violent and ****** offensives, Their rugged, disorderly fleets crucify As humanity is unable to reunify. However, there is another cooperative effort, A last stand, self-organized endeavor, This vigilante group battles cultist detestables They call themselves The Solar Sentinels. Bound by a principled, passionate collaboration, The Solar Sentinels defend all people and nations, Engineers and military minds come together To ensure our survival and prosper, whatsoever. Now, one existential question remains: Will humanity break free of its chains, Awaken, realize that we are all one, Disregard old orders and save our suns?
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42
"there isn't anything out there for me," he thought. a rather less-than detailed description of what some may say, a contemptuous observation. erasing sentences that weren't worded properly, or didn't make much sense. "I value the life I consume," he lied. in other words, I've run out of ambition no longer am I able to lie to others to make my life meaningful to them. It's that lack of that melts flesh from bone. "Shang, I miss you," he read. as if the **** drawing were her. skin flushed, an inconceivable silence only for my mind to take in. the silence is now nothing short of uninviting. all the while, I continue searching for something.. something not all too satisfying.
0
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 12:36 PM UTC
Shang
Shang, I..
"there isn't anything out there for me," he thought. a rather less-than detailed description of what some may say, a contemptuous observation. erasing sentences that weren't worded properly, or didn't make much sense. "I value the life I consume," he lied. in other words, I've run out of ambition no longer am I able to lie to others to make my life meaningful to them. It's that lack of that melts flesh from bone. "Shang, I miss you," he read. as if the **** drawing were her. skin flushed, an inconceivable silence only for my mind to take in. the silence is now nothing short of uninviting. all the while, I continue searching for something.. something not all too satisfying.
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19
Let's back pace, erase my face from your memory I will leave and make you believe my new identity Level-headedness was never in the job description Pushing away this world like it's a bad addiction I have a love unending Transcending space and time Living in the world I create deep within my rhyme And I stand 'till I choose to sit And I will sit for now Wiping inkblots off my page as if sweat from my brow Let's back pace, erase my face from your memory I will leave and make you believe my new identity Level-headedness was never in the job description Pushing away this world like it's a bad addiction She was and still is the girl The girl who was unobtainable Yet my body stays restrainable as I sit here scribbling Tossing her hair over her shoulder I stick to my seat as if atop me's a boulder And I try to convince myself that I'm too busy Let's back pace, erase my face from your memory I will leave and make you believe my new identity Level-headedness was never in the job description Pushing away this world like it's a bad addiction I am a boy who doesn't take chances While the words dance in my brain And I write of love and true romance and live them on the page So my **** has finally decided to not partake in the occasion And stay seated so I'm not defeated to prevent sorrow's invasion Let's back pace, erase my face from your memory I will leave and make you believe my new identity Level-headedness was never in the job description Pushing away this world like it's a bad addiction My brain and heart battle for control Of shifting feet and lover's soul And what stands as inconceivable is why I'm so lost A chance is a chance and that is all they are And I need not travel very far Not trying is still losing and standing and sitting both have their cost Let's back pace, erase my face from your memory I will leave and make you believe my new identity Level-headedness was never in the job description Pushing away this world like it's a bad addiction                                                                                         Heaven's eyes lie through ruby curls She meets my glance and smiles at me While I stew with ink-stained fingers here in purgatory Stand up, **** it! Just stand up! My heart and head reach a conclusion Pages only go so far and the safety of sitting an illusion Let's back pace, erase my face from your memory I will leave and make you believe my new identity Level-headedness was never in the job description Pushing away this world like it's a bad addiction I stand up and find, to my surprise, My legs choosing to support Dropping pen and picking up the ball that's in my court And I walk up to the girl who plagues my dreams As if her very being, to me, beckons and calls Only to hear the world laughing at me as I slip, trip, and fall And hell is all to real to the boy who occupied purgatory With tear-filled eyes from looking to heaven With ****** nose caused from leaving his seat Seeing my chance flutter away as I run out of the room Indented in the red haired girl's eyes as a simple buffoon Let's back pace, erase my face from your memory I will leave and make you believe my new identity Coming back another day to claim my love once more And being ever so careful to make sure my face meets yours, not the floor
0
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 11:33 AM UTC
nik-bland
A Cause For Reevaluation
Let's back pace, erase my face from your memory I will leave and make you believe my new identity Level-headedness was never in the job description Pushing away this world like it's a bad addiction I have a love unending Transcending space and time Living in the world I create deep within my rhyme And I stand 'till I choose to sit And I will sit for now Wiping inkblots off my page as if sweat from my brow Let's back pace, erase my face from your memory I will leave and make you believe my new identity Level-headedness was never in the job description Pushing away this world like it's a bad addiction She was and still is the girl The girl who was unobtainable Yet my body stays restrainable as I sit here scribbling Tossing her hair over her shoulder I stick to my seat as if atop me's a boulder And I try to convince myself that I'm too busy Let's back pace, erase my face from your memory I will leave and make you believe my new identity Level-headedness was never in the job description Pushing away this world like it's a bad addiction I am a boy who doesn't take chances While the words dance in my brain And I write of love and true romance and live them on the page So my **** has finally decided to not partake in the occasion And stay seated so I'm not defeated to prevent sorrow's invasion Let's back pace, erase my face from your memory I will leave and make you believe my new identity Level-headedness was never in the job description Pushing away this world like it's a bad addiction My brain and heart battle for control Of shifting feet and lover's soul And what stands as inconceivable is why I'm so lost A chance is a chance and that is all they are And I need not travel very far Not trying is still losing and standing and sitting both have their cost Let's back pace, erase my face from your memory I will leave and make you believe my new identity Level-headedness was never in the job description Pushing away this world like it's a bad addiction                                                                                         Heaven's eyes lie through ruby curls She meets my glance and smiles at me While I stew with ink-stained fingers here in purgatory Stand up, **** it! Just stand up! My heart and head reach a conclusion Pages only go so far and the safety of sitting an illusion Let's back pace, erase my face from your memory I will leave and make you believe my new identity Level-headedness was never in the job description Pushing away this world like it's a bad addiction I stand up and find, to my surprise, My legs choosing to support Dropping pen and picking up the ball that's in my court And I walk up to the girl who plagues my dreams As if her very being, to me, beckons and calls Only to hear the world laughing at me as I slip, trip, and fall And hell is all to real to the boy who occupied purgatory With tear-filled eyes from looking to heaven With ****** nose caused from leaving his seat Seeing my chance flutter away as I run out of the room Indented in the red haired girl's eyes as a simple buffoon Let's back pace, erase my face from your memory I will leave and make you believe my new identity Coming back another day to claim my love once more And being ever so careful to make sure my face meets yours, not the floor
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67
the way life used to be isn't what i miss, it's each individual moment- lapsing over and over one another creating an inconceivable picture of everything i love, now lost
0
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 12:06 AM UTC
Shang
Untitled
the way life used to be isn't what i miss, it's each individual moment- lapsing over and over one another creating an inconceivable picture of everything i love, now lost
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7
I must write a poem symphony of synonyms hurricane of hyperboles mobocracy of metaphors floodgates in my fingers obstruct my insanity. No monsoon of carefully selected adjectives, nouns, verbs storming blank parchment running ink stores dry. Instead I simply gawk at the word-worthy world. Write poems on the seams of my skin and under my eyelids. Engrave the secrets of my crux in the stem of my brain. Cut out my own tongue. Useless in formation of my phrases, they are inconceivable to modern man. You'll never see my madness untill you examine my insides cut me open, unravel the mystery in my cold blood, Find me dead and read my lips. they will be stuck in a morbid smile
0
Feb 25, 2013
Feb 25, 2013 at 11:58 PM UTC
The-empty-cupboard
Cut Out My Tongue
I must write a poem symphony of synonyms hurricane of hyperboles mobocracy of metaphors floodgates in my fingers obstruct my insanity. No monsoon of carefully selected adjectives, nouns, verbs storming blank parchment running ink stores dry. Instead I simply gawk at the word-worthy world. Write poems on the seams of my skin and under my eyelids. Engrave the secrets of my crux in the stem of my brain. Cut out my own tongue. Useless in formation of my phrases, they are inconceivable to modern man. You'll never see my madness untill you examine my insides cut me open, unravel the mystery in my cold blood, Find me dead and read my lips. they will be stuck in a morbid smile
Continue reading...
25