"interconnect" poems
Is it possible to miss a persons chest?
The way it rises and falls with their breathing and pulses with blood flow
Letting you know they are alive, just as you are alive
And your timelines interconnect the way your breathing synchronizes
You walk with your right foot forward and he trips over his foot to match your careful steps
You love to hear the rhythmic ebb and flow of whispered thoughts into your ear
And on his chest your head is resting like the pillow you slept on last night except much more comfortable
The cold air outside gives him a chance to explore your arms and hands
and make you feel protected and loved
You feel home again even though the house you grew up in is only a block away
There’s this never ending warmth
That ignites your cold fingers with the heat of something more powerful than a comet
You do miss his chest
Your head-rest and peace
Of mind from this too-loud world
That doesn’t take a moment to hear a heartbeat
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 10:21 PM UTC
Everybody needs inspiration and a soul.
But remembrance is sometimes untold..
Life isn't meant to be easy, just a journey through the scenery.
Things aren't always what they seem, but actually sometimes disbelieving.
Believing everything you see and hear is a no go.
Although Life is all about perspective inspect it.
Interconnect with your mind, body, and soul.
Sooner or later you'll reach your goal
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 11:48 PM UTC
As the Sun has its place
In the clear, halcyon sky
Your mind resides here
Please don't resist to comply
Intercept each divagated thought
Interconnect with my waves
Vibe with my presentiment
Upon each other, we're slaves
"Hooked" on each other's hooks
As our conscious rocks and cradles
Sharing minds as we flutter
Animated fantasies, but no fables
I think the way you think
You coast adjacent to my vibe
Our mental surrounds each other's
Mine and yours, a dear circumscribe
We entwine as a tightly woven braid
Entangled upon a common bond
We savor of our intuitive thoughts
Your every move, I'm surely fond
Enriched with pleasurable closure
In summer's embrace, we wallow
In this psychological playground
My angel, your position is hallow
We're two minds that amalgamate
Gratified with not one discrepancy
Only our mutual brains keep subtle
A deep, infrangible, sweet telepathy..
© Michael P. Smith
Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 2:20 AM UTC
snapshot memories
lay scattered in silence.
An abundance of unclean
and hazy lives interconnect
before me, dodging and weaving
in disarray
some overlap
and others steer far apart,
but all are destined to be something.
And far apart from these, my life;
a torn edged, blurry photograph
lies in the middle,
moon light burns its edges
and sunlight fades its image
wind and rain thin its paper
but still it remains;
with possibilities beyond
what i or anyone else can imagine,
and so i sit from afar
gazing at this wonderland..
this ancient ritual of connections
that we call life,
teary eyed at its condition
and in this
try to find comfort in my
constant confusions.
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 10:14 PM UTC
My love is like a spring.
Trickling from the core of the earth,
pure, uncontaminated and original. Just love,
and nothing less, nothing added, nothing fake.
It gushes out at the end as a great water fall,
with every single drop unveiled to sunlight,
forming an everlasting rainbow ~
My love is like a rainbow.
Purple and violet over bickering and disagreements.
Blue when you're gone and green if another looks at you.
Yellow, orange and red with affection, ecstasy and bliss.
Colourful, vibrant and dynamic; subtle yet,
painted across the sky for everyone to see.
Beyond the sea all the way to the horizon~
My love is like the sea.
Very much alive and providing life,
stretched across the whole of the earth.
Deeper than the tallest mountain, and endless.
Storms of passion and whirlpools of emotion,
Rocking everything within it's grasp, only
to reach a tranquil standstill, nirvana if you may~
My love is like attaining nirvana, but not.
Instead of freeing myself from earthly attachments,
I long to be reincarnated just to relive this life,
again and again with you, the centre
of my spider web of soul, from which
strands of joy to content erupt and interconnect,
to which I'm blissfully and willingly stuck~
Jun 3, 2012
Jun 3, 2012 at 7:07 PM UTC
Touching the edge of the ocean,
Avon-by-the-sea nestles
it cloak of secrets
pressed on the faces of its residents
that reside in their humble abodes.
After somersaulting through life,
a man by the name of William watches
his grandchildren tumble
through galaxies of vivacious imagination.
They roll around in the painted
grass, flying through the
tainted sky.
If only he could join them.
Words of glossolalia spurt
and spill out of his mouth as he try's
to spit out the endearing words,
"I love you," to his wife
standing beside him.
He turns to her, and her eyes began to
bloat with pellets of liquid despair.
Shamelessly he turns his head
down. She quickly entangles their fingers
together. Like a puzzle piece, they interconnect
perfectly. The silence continues on..
but the love remains.
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 6:12 PM UTC
Love me tender
Love me sweet......
My lips were dry
But you moisturized them
With your kisses.
I let my body go upside down
Only because I was in your arms
So there was no falling.
But perhaps I am falling.
Perhaps I'm dragging you with me.
But is that so bad.
Our legs go perfectly intertwined
My ***** sits well in your concave
My breast fall gracefully on your chest.
And our minds interconnect.
I think we fit.
So continue to....
Love me tender
Love me sweet
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 6:39 PM UTC
Faith is like breathing.
You can rest assured that
no matter what you are doing,
your lungs will keep on
drinking the air and
carrying oxygen through your blood and to
every last vestige in your body.
Give up trying to control it,
as it will do as it pleases
regardless
of your attempts to slowly **** yourself or
extinguish all ambiguity and randomness
in the world around you.
Control out of chaos?
Your eyes waking up in the morning is chaos.
Each lash bending
slightly in proportion
to every other lash it is connected too.
We are like plants,
where our roots interconnect and
stretch back further than
recorded history to a time where
we planted the seeds
in fear
that our family would splinter and
mutate into a massive **** of
imaginative constructs like
nations and creeds
which we knit so tediously into
every new idea or situation that attracts itself to us.
Like mirrors to the world,
our eyes only reflect
what they have been shown.
Both in distorted waves of fantasia and
in clear pictures and representations of
our fragmented pasts.
Our memories are jigsaws,
putting them together only to realize
that the reward looks nothing like
the picture we thought we were building for ourselves.
No matter how dark and dismal some pieces may appear
they are only there to keep us from
going blind in the light.
Sep 2, 2010
Sep 2, 2010 at 6:22 PM UTC
I want to interconnect my soul to running water and rain and thunder
I want to feel electric shock waves of relief every time there is lightening
I want to crave sunlight on my skin after I take off the dark cloak of night that wraps around my body when the day breaks
I want to become weightless so I can take a nap on a leaf on a branch of a tree and find a home with the place that always knows how things go
I want to build a leaf house and forget about the world that kicked me out
I want to have a never ending love affair with those little ***** of rain leaking from the sky
That could be recycled dinosaur dragon sweat or the tears of Jesus and I want to revel in the possibility that the world can bring me
Away from the world that left me out
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 12:39 AM UTC
I am not micro soft
I have full access
to excel
as a publisher
My outlook
does not sway
I am a hot male
Let's interconnect
Paint a picture
from my visual studio
It's in the works
do you see my power point?
I have more than one drive
There are teams of forums
that share one note
inside my power shell
Time to connect
at the edge
I azure you
Lets groove to the music
WORD!
Aug 27, 2018
Aug 27, 2018 at 10:40 AM UTC
Don't judge a book by it's cover
My life's an open book,
From the intro to the index,
Every page is a phase,
some paragraphs are laughs
with sentences of pain,
Illustrious Illustrations
Can be interpreted in varied ways,
If a million people read it
A million different angels,
Each increment is instrumental
Essentially a tangle,
Web world wide,
Interconnect the internet,
seven degrees
of separation have now become five,
Or maybe even four,
If you want to hide something
Put it in a poem,
so,
Don't **** the messenger
My job is to push the envelope!
Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 1:22 PM UTC
It’s all ******* bits and pieces this existence of ours while we ride this ever spinning crazy world we inhabit, that’s just the thing, even if we are complete ******** it just keeps on rolling through the cosmic plane, the penny you left on the train tracks derails the railcar full of medical supplies for sick dyeing orphans, you wipe your genitalia on the boss’s keyboard knowing that in time his face will smell like ***** unloading your loneliness with displacement on the little blue hair taking too long to count change at the grocery check out.
It doesn’t matter, none of it ever matters, the world’s not going to stop, not even going to slow and pause for breath, and nobody cares about your problems. But sometimes you find someone, someone so incredible special, someone who seems to understand, someone who really gets you, and for a little while its better, we can lie there in the dark and promise never to leave each other, we have someone to hold onto, someone who proves we exist, at least for a little while anyway.
It’s how you interconnect these bits and pieces, these singular moments into the mosaic of your reality.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 9:35 PM UTC
Dreams stealing my reality I’m unbeknownst
Sleeping,
she creeps into my realm of make-believe
Her hands interconnect with mine while the eager winds howl like coyotes
We look deeply into each pupil and she says,
Your soul is beautiful as the glowing seas at midnight
I could hold you until every star in the universe explodes
I would wait eternities to be with you
I’d battle giants or travel stary oceans to hold you near
Just take my sorriest thoughts and let me forget
Make me sanguine, lost in time with you
She walks into a glimmering flower bed with the morning chorus ringing
Stepping barefoot on arching shining blue grass cushioned under her toes
The meadow scents whirling with the botanical humming of insects
She sees me once again
Sitting in the shadowy embrace of a tree
As the sun shining a million times brilliant, brings godly light to her path.
Her rhythm of voice comforts me
A soprano serenading making planet life dance with awe
Our eyes meet across the multicolored plane
I stand up
Cheering smiles heighten for miles
A clarity of something gorgeous
Flowing hair smothers touching faces
Butterfly kisses in the field of organic aura glowing
Sweeping you off your feet into plumes of clouds blanketing overhead
We lay into the germinating grasslands in imaginative solitude
Feeling the pulse of hearts and our blood rushing in love.
Night falls and celestial bodies are seen deeply engrained in the sky divinely painted
Voids peaking out from darkness frosted with elegant designs of ancient filaments
Supported by forceful invisible strings and elegant rivers of stars, blues yellows and reds
I hold her closer as the dream begins to fade into obscured fantasy
She waits in my subjective reality
my mind gently diminishes the pixels of her image
I caress her face cursing my admiration in the precursor of the ending chimera
A fixation which corralled seemly from nowhere coherent
I glared into her darken umber eyes grasping her pearly skin
As the reverie ends
I'm speaking her name as the crisp morning chorus chatters at my window
Eyes open
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 1:19 PM UTC
In the shadows of the Island
The moon killer on the prowl
Trio of eccentric professors
An echo of a howl
Turn out the light and interconnect
The mysterious Dr X
A technicolor ****** scene
See the bizarre experiment
A creepy lab, a fiendish killer
An evil development
He waits to see who is next
The mysterious Dr X
A group of strange wax figures
The victim bound to a chair
Peculiar feeling of cold mechanism
In a Gothic horror nightmare
Who is the killer suspect
The mysterious Dr X
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 8:40 AM UTC
‘How many hairs on the palm
of your hand?’ my father used to ask
waiting to note, whether I would look.
‘None!’ gullible little me would reply
as he smiled asserting the quest
was in itself indeed the first
sign of madness,
to my bittersweet disappointment.
Little would he know then, that years
later growing up I would no longer search
yet would suffer as it happens from
mental distress,
to my tortured existential struggle.
Learning to hide hints and symptoms
of derangement I would confide
only to my Self, beloved faithful ally,
thereby exhibiting the second sign
solaced by Aurora to believe it was fine
whilst enjoying the conversation.
A dialogue between the many versions
of Self unfolding, for me to discover ego
laughing to my jokes, caressing my cheeks
whispering words of soothing power,
sympathising with endeavours
clement with my limits, coaching me
to courageously strive
to surpass them.
Counting stories of imagination
which would later be written
by my hands holding fountain pens
pouring ink on mute white papers,
a life of insanity within which
reason finds its peaceful abode.
As I now look around and observe
all the sane normal people who neglect
listening and talking to themselves,
I realise that my soliloquy engenders
a unique blissful bond, whereby
the trillion pieces composing me all
interconnect soundly rooted
in essential loving accord.
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 9:04 AM UTC
Our fingers interlace
Our lips interlock
Our legs interweave
Our bodies interact
Our ideas interchange
Our interests interlap
Our dreams intersect
Our minds internal
Our desires interlayer
Our emotions interpretive
Our silences interpersonal
Our souls interconnect
Oct 18, 2020
Oct 18, 2020 at 6:14 PM UTC
a seclusion in your bed of chasing unfinished ends, you are not just another one.
ive never heard silence so loud as it echoes through these marble hills.
with a countless loss of dopamine yet if you are doing fine, ill do my best not to intervene.
seeing you, i have to hold it in and put up a wall to not interconnect our arms.
looking at ourselves in your mirror as my eyes dont even match up to yours anymore, following your voice which makes it harder to not trace back to our course.
i know im going to far,
as im only showing my love for you through art.
the mist from the sky falling delicately on your face, envying the times where that was my place. (8:59 pm)
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 4:48 PM UTC