"intence" poems
The color of lost time
The color of white on an horizon
The color of midnight in the garden of words
The color of sound pealing in a vast sea of bluebells
The color of thought indentured to compelling
Imunities that complain of authenticities so intence
There are cloistered calls for an incantatory language
of soft colored vowels a,e,i,o,u
In an enigmatic language of legitimacy
That wrests the color of colors from themselves
And provides a history of the world in 13 tweets
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 2:03 PM UTC
She sent a message to me
And I could feel her stroking my keys
She was clicking onto my interest
Next message if you please
If I could get you
between my comma
maybe semicolon you
I'm sure I could make
an exclamation point
wrap my parentheses all around you
I could ravage all your vowels
I could click into propend
And at the proper moment most intence
I would touch the "send"
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
and the skies with sudden encore come
filled with words not worked
orchastrating a full complement
of treacherous ambition
and will an exploration
of competeing claim of unsundry wills
and such as is gives men a will to transform themselves
to give a cause to anciet or recent voice
a permissible presentation of possibilities
in battle and brawl with a blunt rhetorical and physical disorder
which does emphasize such dramas
with stark, violent and repressive potential
all tantilized with the prospect of wealth in the ground
make a contention with vicious energies
of hate and ambition that propels
an intence and exhausting experience
upon a once civil-world to spiral
vertiginously toward an ancient choas
enacting old stories with the oppresiveweight of the past
now monstrous individualism
whose hideously fragile bonds to peace
no longer exeert their hold
and thus divorse themselves
with an individual rapaciousness
annihilating lives with a curiousley
derivative quality for a store of gas and oil
and disinherite themselves from moral constriant
evoking the soliloquy of historical hypocrisy
with a mutilation of truth
in a tragedy of lament for all human kind
then sudden uncalled for encore fills the skies
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 6:16 PM UTC
Shall I die victim to the terrors I have anticipated
Those that creep by a scarlet moon at midnight
The terrors that return me
To the deep waters of my subconsciousness
Terrors that trickle and trail and impart no sound
Yet emphasize their dark, violent and repressive potential
Oh those terrors that stalk, that follow
Whose shadow can be diserned behind every door and on every stair
That lay me impoverished of courage and ridiculed of depiction
I shall die by these terrors who with want of word
Spread upon me such vicious energies that enact
An intence and exhausting experience
Terrors that empahasie a mind spiraling
Vertiginously toward an unknown chaos
Shall I die, victim to the terrors I have anticipated
I shall, shall I not, I know I shall
Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 7:57 PM UTC
He moves so eligantly.
Gentley sliding her blood stained jeans to the floor.
He kisses her so softly, in places boys never kissed her before.
She closes her eyes to hide the fact shes falling, the harder, and the deeper he moves inside her, the harder and deeper she falls.
She hates her body, so she always tells him to switch of the lights.
Its better that way anyway, you can feel every slight brush of skin against another, every grasp seems to be more intence.
Shes waiting, waiting for you to give in.
So as soon as their all finished and done.
She can lay there, and completely hate herself.
Right until you come and hold her so tightly, so its almost as if his arms, make the scars fade away.
Dont leave her, please dont leave her.
She loves you.
Baby please dont go.
Jul 28, 2012
Jul 28, 2012 at 2:18 PM UTC
dont ever think that i dont care
your troubles are your own
dont ever think you've got a share
of money fame and bones
my killer instincts say im wrong for you
but you keep saying your wrong for me
the relief i felt was so intence
i feared the breaking of your heart
so then we went our seperate ways
you to the left
and me to the right
dont ever think that i didnt care
Aug 19, 2012
Aug 19, 2012 at 11:11 PM UTC
Hours of unuttered pain
Every muscel working together
Her birth canal opening with every
Intence contraction..cm to cm
And it was only at the last push
She felt the profound connection...between she, the baby
And the Creator
True meaning she felt of giving to this world a soul
The last push she felt it
The last push
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 5:21 PM UTC
An angel sitting on a great stone
With a playful smile watching life unfold
Gazing upon the roads unraveling
The birds chirp along
The heat of the sun on her skin
"Look!" Holding a ladybug
And God smiles and replies "you look"
Pointing ahead
Her breath stuck in her throat
A blush on her cheeks
Eyes wide open
She takes in the view
The most beautiful creature on earth
Ahead stands her reflection
The other half, the missing piece
"Go on" God encourages her
She approaches and quickly laughter echoes in the forest
They speak, share, touch and eventually become One
The intence joy, deep true happiness
Comfort and safety of home
Like the light comes from the inside
For the Source is Love
And Love is the Source of Love of the Source
"Come home now, there will be time to play later" says a whisper in the wind
With an angry blush she looks up and asks:
"But then why did we come if we were only to be seperated...?"
"It won't last forever"
Reluctantly she grabs the hand of God
And walks away, tears in her eyes
For they can never be whole alone
And never fully alone
The deepest seperation is the one
One has within themselves
And if he was not a part of her
Then nothing was.
Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 5:15 PM UTC
Today i crossed a surspension bridge
it was so intence.
P@ul
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 4:13 PM UTC