"inundate" poems
~
*Inundate your love
for this sacred village,
on bended knee,
facing the freshet,
supplicated hands pressed together,
one of grace, one of charity,
lips of sweet euphony,
whispering into the morning sun,
a language deep and pounding
inside your heart's timpani,
abiding like unsheltered waters
that nourish the vine*
~
Sep 8, 2021
Sep 8, 2021 at 10:38 AM UTC
nothing's instantaneous
temperance a requirement
change forever targeted
til self becomes fragmented
heart an aqueous soluble
erstwhile deliquescent
puddled into pulp
taken out like trash
fitting for an adversary
malicious and malevolent
destructive to the starling
plucked and plunged to sea
so drown to suffocation
laudable attempts at termination
inundate your consciousness
using barrages of indifference
convinced affection's unattainable
death deserted and companionless
auspicious in my loneliness
asphyxiate to expiration
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 4:28 PM UTC
Fluorescent and creamy
‘Twas the fabric that was her skin
With lecherous taunts she told me
“All this and more could be yours.”
I gasp in profound sighs as gradually
I inundate beneath naughty theories
Upon your lips
first was a peak of interest
alluring for sharp strokes of passion
a moan here, a groan there
as a theatrical ****** infuses
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 2:54 PM UTC
(monsoon moments 1)
The lively colors of summer have faded
Blazing May afternoons have ended,
Clear skies are now ash-blue, sometimes blae
Blooming with soggy grayish ***** of cotton,
Ever ready to burst with crystal drops...
Monsoon winds blow.......then rain follows
Big, heavy, noisy raindrops hit the roof,
They pour longer........inundate the streets
Making them impassable.......................but
I'm raring to be out there when it falls,
Let its cold touch, give me goose bumps...
And waken every nerve in me...
Let it wash away the heat and humidity from my body
Let its steady flow, drench my short hair, flat to my skull,
Let it compress my long-running indecision: do I, or do I not?
I'd wait for all these to slide down and join the wet ground
For, I want to walk around....soaking wet, and barefooted,
Feel the grass.......subservient to the downpour
I want to dip and wiggle my toes in the softened soil,
'til floodwater reaches my ankle
'til I'm one with earth and water
And then I...
Would feel unburdened,
When I come in
From the rain...
Sally
Copyright June 9, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 9:46 PM UTC
I don't mean to inundate you
With the writing of my thoughts
When you're drowning
In you're own
But inside myself
I am vulnerable and delicate
With nowhere to roam
I have endless compassion
And a very sympathetic ear
If you want to talk to me
I am always here.
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 6:36 PM UTC
You are a crucible,
within you are the ingredients
that will coalesce into such
wonderful shape and form.
I am an unlit pyre aching to burn
Find the spark that will
push me to ignite.
Feel for the pressure that
will force your contents to unite.
You will make forever in your own shape.
A fine thing it will be.
People will look on your
achievement and inundate
you with deserved praise.
You are more than a glorified stain.
You are permanent. You will last.
I am almost nothing.
I will blaze for such a short time.
Ash and dust and nothing.
But, my god,
my friend,
my love,
I have such a gift for you.
Watch as I burn.
Apr 8, 2011
Apr 8, 2011 at 2:23 AM UTC
What is an American?
Is it decided by the timber of our voice,
the strength in our limbs,
the blood in our veins,
or the color of our skin?
Tell me,
for I do not understand,
unfold your thesis,
inundate my mind with statistics,
be it quantum blood measures,
origin or sociological constructs of the creature in question.
Tell me,
what it is to be an American?
This umbrella term,
I just do not understand,
is it to be a thief?
A country founded on stolen land,
and stolen labor,
sage bushed bills,
backed by gilded structures and systems of debate and seizure,
is being an American drowning in leisure?
What does this term mean?
I find myself confused,
it is difficult to quantify the qualitative,
and breath life into lifeless chiseled forms,
found in squares and plazas throughout,
a country split by hard wired ferocity,
quicksand laden dividing lines,
the vocal deciding what it is to be,
and what it isn't.
*Careful lad,
there is such a thing as too much,
too much individuality,
so put up your hair,
put away the paint,
put away that sign,
sheath your weapon,
old boy,
this isn't your fight,
and besides,
what can you do with a toy?*
I don't know what America is,
land of the free,
where is that?
I see only industry,
a dying morality,
drowned in ethics,
a protestant-core built on overt inequality.
What does it mean to be an American?
I can't tell you what it means to you,
only what it means to me,
and so I say dust off the document upon which this term was built,
and realize that the past is not what you should use,
just as anything else of import,
use judgement,
agency,
the ability to choose,
uphold the freedom that suffocates in the back of your mind,
to the flame inside your chest,
to the weakness in your legs,
down against the sole of your shoes.
America is a country founded on rebellion,
a little man,
underdog all grown up,
and now he's the one throwing punches,
a story paralleled by Davidic tales,
and though he may not be perfect,
and is often reviled,
I love him still,
his rough edges,
for we are still part of the experiment,
ongoing,
the American dream.
Though the gates may be weighed down,
the hinges rusted,
a country of sojourners,
soon a country of minorities,
cultural pluralism,
though flawed,
I like it better this way,
a techni-colored mirage of what once was,
and if we must meet our end,
so be it,
guide me home,
for is it not true that all roads eventually wind home?
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 2:54 PM UTC
Before a Creole love call, and a curdled Cajun moon
the bay water laps about pierrot, bay grass, and wading egret knuckle
Treading through his mucky labyrinthine mistress, and wind-knitted mire
beak prods pock, and inundate in the same instant
silt gilds his bill as he finally snaps about scaly sustenance
Sated
Wings boom and beckon in the darkness
Lift
Scooped in pearl beam, he commands the aeriform
An ether opus bellows about his form
Drying silt disintegrates from aerodynamic bill
Dribbling about in a forgotten slant in the darkness
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 8:32 PM UTC
I’m a bad lover
I ask too many questions and some answers make me uneasy,
‘Am impacient, sometimes have low self esteem and sometimes I just think I’m the **** (I do really)
I’m a bad lover
I tend to inundate the objects of my affection with attention, cheesy poetry and random drawings that look more like kindergarden scribble.
Broken promises **** me.
I’m a bad lover
I am inclined to forgive with ease but remember with intensity.
I do not acknowledge moderation when it comes to kissing.
I sometimes prejudge according to my last relationships.
And somehow I am not afraid of being loyal.
I’m a bad lover
I love cats and warm, fuzzy feelings.
I’ll rather watch a documentary than a horror movie.
I turn awkward in certain situations.
I go to sleep listening to democracynow.org but think Amy Goodman should be a bit more energetic, it’s almost as if she’s bored or ****** off or something.
I’m a bad lover
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 3:24 AM UTC
walked along the beach
barefoot, blinded
by a sun that
refused to rise
and a past
that refused to set
the ethereal glow
of the twilight
burned violet
reflections off
of the ocean
and the sand
raised a hand
to cover the
glare of the
sun exploding
sprawling out
against the horizon
sun rays over the water
laid out toward
me like avenues
of heat and radiation
stretched out
in endless highway
or perhaps fingers
caressing
tendrils of light
that lover
you knew but
never touched
the violet sunrise
stretches over the ocean
lapping your feet
tearing at them
the beggar grasping
at the ankle, pulling
soon knee deep
the violet seeping
through
the shore recedes
as station to train
and the journey continues
waist deep
violets bleed to orange
and ****** red
the sun is up
yet the past still haunts
with failing eyesight
hindsight is still twenty twenty
and the water is cool
there is a
breeze from the sea
chest deep
the avenues open up
divide and collide
all roads
lead toward one destination
the tendrils on that golden hand
beckon me closer
who was that lover?
she once had a name
neck deep
and the sun is up so high
up so high
where are the clouds?
there was supposed
to be rain today
water is up to
the eyes and rising
failing eyesight
and hindsight remains
twenty twenty
unfortunately
but for the first time
it appears that
I can see
where I am going
as well as what
is behind
As I submerge
I feel the past close up
behind me
it bottles up as hot air
as the demon forever
clawing at my neck
exhale and exorcise
the sun sets violet
hewed with crimson
growing colder
the water gets deeper
reflections
through the waves
spears of violet
jab at seaweed
with failing eyesight
there is no past to see
there is no future
there is only the sea
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 11:03 AM UTC
Ignorant are the people,
who brush off the most sincerest of hellos
or the genuine gratitude of someone else.
Apathetic are the people,
who has seen yet have not done.
Witnessing so much
yet reluctant to take action.
Cowardly are the people,
who inundate their catharsis
on the well being of someone else.
A life so useless they find joy
only in the torturing of others;
spending futile days
living as sad, pathetic sadists.
And myopic are the kind,
for they are clearly aware of what’s bad for them
yet they are too blind to listen to their heads
only to follow their hearts.
stupid hearts.
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 3:25 AM UTC
1380
How much the present moment means
To those who’ve nothing more—
The Fop—the Carp—the Atheist—
Stake an entire store
Upon a Moment’s shallow Rim
While their commuted Feet
The Torrents of Eternity
Do all but inundate—
1.5k
it's almost as if she were calling to me,
begging me to venture from the barren prairie
to the tantalizing surf,
to wholly submerge into her; to escape from my sorrows,
to inundate myself with the delicacy of her frigid surface.
i could hear her, muttering my name from across the meadow.
slowly, i was growing aware of how minute i had become,
standing in this immense field alone.
i felt the aching, and the longing for amity scrabble its way up my spine.
my legs begin to take strides, my entire body follows en suite.
my fingers shakily unbutton my blouse, tossing it somewhere within the paddock.
it was as if my body had a mind of its own, and was spellbound.
my boots are off before i can comprehend what is happening to me.
and suddenly, im unclothed,
my feet digging into the sand beneath me.
my ears ring as my brain swims and i can't focus;
all i hear are her exquisite murmurs, chanting my name
until it's no longer recognizable.
the ringing in my ears swells, roaring until my brain aches and my vision grows more and more white until im underwater,
covering my ears and screaming for the chaos to subside.
and it does. my **** body is submerged into her breathtaking sea.
never have i felt more at peace.
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 7:25 AM UTC
Give me a pebble and I'll give you a diamond.
Give me a tear and I'll hand you a smile.
Give me your worthless worries
your hopeless heartbreaks
your endless encumbrances
your inured infractions.
Stone me,
Pelt me,
Inundate me
with your misfortune.
Load me with your burdens
So at the end of the day once you're weary of these timeless toils
The mirror shows not the creases of creation
but you.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 11:09 AM UTC
I’ve watched the western coast decline in pounding surf and howling gale
I’ve noticed how the rising tides encroach, to day by day impale,
The crumbling cliffs, the drifting sand, the ever creeping surging sea,
The violence of increasing storms…. and how it all impacts on me.
The polar ice in melting sheets cascades into high warming seas
Islands in Pacific sun now inundate with cruel ease.
Swathes of forest in Brazil encroached by axe and palm oil gain
Climatic balance counteracts to guarantee tomorrows pain.
The ocean strewn with plastic waste, choked in tides of human ****
Churning chimneys bellow forth across the blue globe, poisoning it.
Coal’s contaminants are burning holes across the crystal sky
And leaking nuclear waste contributes now… to killing you and I.
Wealth and politicians howl abuse at they who caution loud
Climate change, they disavow, is but a ploy to woo the crowd,
**** the future for the now” is the mantra held by they
Who wield the club to rule the roost and pocket spoils themselves….today!
Overwealmed by monstrous change, management relinquish charge,
Service and supply collapse with climatic refugee collage.
Hurricane and wildfire spread in league with rising seas
Of course the leaders wring their hands and call on God to please, .....appease?
A vision of this shrunken earth with coastlines vastly higher now
With cities drowned, Atlantis like, where millions, dispossessed, do prowl,
Where law and order, gone, is now replaced by desperate **** and take,
Where the rich and famous bastion arms behind their futile walls of hate.
Ask not for whom the bell tolls...It tolls for thee
M.
30 July 2019
New Zealand
Jul 29, 2019
Jul 29, 2019 at 8:44 PM UTC
Subtly and quietly, uncertainty has recaptured its place in my mind.
Just as soon as I thought I was happy,
When I thought the sun was shinning over the horizon,
The gloomy impenetrable clouds of uncertainty and indecision return into my view.
I know that somewhere beyond these clouds there is light.
But, why must the clouds stand in the way?
Why must they frequently return?
Please, let me be.
Let me enjoy.
Put my mind at ease, and allow me to feel fervently.
Allow my emotions to ravish me in pure ecstasy.
Let the light consume every single part of me.
Fill me light, until my cup is overwhelmed. Inundate every part of me!
I beg, and I plea! Light, please take me!
Allow me to soar past the darkness that constantly captures me, that enshrouds me, that eviscerates the entirety of me!
Please, ominous and petrifying clouds of indecision and uncertainty…
Please… let me be happy.
- j.m
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 9:21 PM UTC
While making ardent love,
their passion did inundate;
caused a magical transformation,
a rain tree covered by vines!
May 3, 2012
May 3, 2012 at 9:55 PM UTC
Sparse grass adorns the hillside
Thinly green against the grey,
Where lurking bull ant wolf packs
Hunt where chirping crickets play.
Way too thin to waft in breezes
Way too thin to really count
Like bad dealerships in Chevrolet
Mostly struggle to surmount.
Like thin pacifists in fist fights
Race, back peddaling for the door,
When, in fact, the convenience
Is a bullet through the floor.
And hot starlets jiggle **** jobs
Strutting carpet, red as rose,
Imitating, superficially here,
Whoredom wishing to impose.
Those roaring Russians, in denial
As their cheating athlete’s pale,
All denied their right of entry
To Olympia’s Holy Grail.
And insipidly they all collapse
In fracking’s blatant wake,
Leaving gloating, fat Americans
Gorging merrily on steak.
Whilst the oceans are advancing
As the ice floes dissipate,
And the clamour is ignored
Though Island nations inundate.
Fractious currencies do vacillate
In global bouts of greed,
Where the rich are fatly richer
And the rest in desperate need.
Where all truth is but a fantasy
Which everyone ignores,
Where expediency is the answer
And future proofing snores.
Black distrusts the whiteness
Islam hates the Jew,
East and West at loggerheads
What hope now…. for you?
Oh sparse grass adorns the hillside
Thin green against the grey,
Where the morrow is a vaugary
And worrisome it’s way.
M.
Friday 13th November 2015
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 7:35 PM UTC
Nothing nears perfection like your smile; it is believed to be the make- up worn by angels,
Your face; ethereally lovely; perpetually graced with the touches of angels.
Your breath- taking beauty walled the template of my thought; enough not to forget how Heaven glows in your radiance,
Life in its erratic form makes perfect sense in the ambiance of your presence.
You are such that the planet is created around your meticulous tenderness,
Waxing strong at your ambiance; such to believe in its ineffable gift of weakness.
When you talk, no bird sings in the planet; every living entity stops to pay attention,
The earth rotates in congruence to the luxuriant wave of your voice; dancing to its sublime perfection.
Your laughter reverberate in such a melodic tune that the angels dance to its rhythm,
Joyfully bonded in congruence with its flow; adoring every tune of its appealing beat like the psalmist hymn.
Your lips deposits sweetness like pollen on stamens and pistils of my lips,
Enough sweetness to inundate my worries and fears at a glimpse.
You look at me with your serene but yet decipherable eyes and mitigates the stillness of loneliness in my opaque heart,
As a lady, you are an ideal sample of perfection; as a human, you are the integral part of Gods finest art.
I just can’t get enough of you; your love blooms with such sweetness like a long fermented wine,
I can drink and drown in its taste of breathtaking sweetness; get tipsy and still feel absolutely fine.
Your allure is offbeat; as indefinable as the coefficient of your inexhaustible beauty,
You are attention calling, extremely attractive to the dense bones of my cardiac cavity.
I love you and every unspoken word that you’ve ever thought of and every inch of flesh that is yours,
Your kiss is life to my cells; no such lips multiply cells in a single touch like yours.
My love for you is as indefinite as the sea; as vast as the galaxy of existence,
My love for you continues to grow just like root of plant grows beneath the soil with sublime resilience.
Like a Heron on fire; like a creeping mountain magma; my love blaze with such realness and sincerity,
And can never seize to end; be conquered by life’s challenges or drown in the depth of eternity.
Am stuck on you forever; forever bonded and inseparable like the Siamese twin for real,
Because baby; my love is forever; always have; and always will be.
Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 4:01 AM UTC
I am awoken by a child’s faint cry.
As I look around I see all these women; waiting oh so patiently.
Each waits for a nurse to call her name.
For a man to hold her hand.
For those obscure nights to dissipate into a dream.
For the bumps on their bellies
to be worth a soul, a sin, a miraculous thing.
No, no one has a ring..
There’s an awkward silence.
The siblings of the unborn interrupt.
Some fragile women secretly thankful to be distracted away from their ambivalent thoughts and trepidation seek refuge in reprimanding the unruly children.
A tumult of questions inundate my mind.
Incessant raindrops leaving puddles of muddy thoughts.
There is a girl across the room she had shared with the group that her husband had gone to the restroom the day before and would soon join her. I fake a pitiful smile and yet hope that he does.
Until a woman dressed in white yells my name and I clutch my empty hand.
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 7:16 PM UTC
Caveat
by Michael R. Burch
If only we were not so eloquent,
we might sing, and only sing, not to impress,
but only to enjoy, to be enjoyed.
We might inundate the earth with thankfulness
for light, although it dies, and make a song
of night descending on the earth like bliss,
with other lights beyond—not to be known—
but only to be welcomed and enjoyed,
before all worlds and stars are overthrown ...
as a lover’s hands embrace a sleeping face
and find it beautiful for emptiness
of all but joy. There is no thought to love
but love itself. How senseless to redress,
in darkness, such becoming nakedness . . .
Originally published by Clementine Unbound
Keywords/Tags: caveat, eloquent, eloquence, sing, enjoy, enjoyment, inundate, earth, thankfulness, praise, song, light, welcomed, enjoyed, enjoyment, bliss, joy, love
Caveat Spender
by Michael R. Burch
It’s better not to speculate
"continually" on who is great.
Though relentless awe’s
a Célèbre Cause,
please reserve some time for the contemplation
of the perils of EXAGGERATION.
Stephen Spender in his best-known poem wrote: "I think continually of those who were truly great." This near-limerick suggests that Spender may have exaggerated the time he devoted to hero worship. Keywords/Tags: caveat, spender, truly, great, think, continually, hero, worship, exaggeration, contemplation, awe, fawn, fawning
Apr 2, 2020
Apr 2, 2020 at 5:08 AM UTC
Cataclysmically holocaustal catastrophic cacophony. Spurious staunch succinct stymie tacit, irate tirade treatise vehement escapade tedium. Belligerent barbarian of a berserker bodacious katzenjammer. Ostensibly deterrent savage vicious violence. Ghastly gruesome grotesque gristly groaty gnarly, awfully terrible hideously horrible heinously horrendous. Inundate liable culprit, assay relay's convey, inveigh irrefragably inevitable inure. Tercel theocracy, anticipate angary amentia. Attenuating arbitration accidence ambiance acoustics. Diction's enunciation execrating eventuation evocative expletives. Reconnaissance reconnoiter rectilinear recrimination. Incessant barratry Bailiff's rake-ness rails. Détente, demarcate delirious destitute demiurge. Diabolically maniacal dementia brusque macabre abrupt, annex annul's edifice ******** Spiritual apercu pneuma's palatial estates!!!!
Oct 10, 2022
Oct 10, 2022 at 3:16 PM UTC
All Afterglow
by Michael R. Burch
Something remarkable, perhaps ...
the color of her eyes ... though I forget
the color of her eyes ... perhaps her hair
the way it blew about ... I do not know
just what it was about her that has kept
her thought lodged deep in mine ... unmelted snow
that lasted till July would be less rare,
clasped in some frozen cavern where the wind
sculpts bright grotesqueries, ignoring springs’
and summers’ higher laws ... there thawing slow
and strange by strange degrees, one tick beyond
the freezing point which keeps all things the same
... till what remains is fragile and unlike
the world above, where melted snows and rains
form rivulets that, inundate with sun,
evaporate, and in life’s cyclic stream
remake the world again ... I do not know
that we can be remade—all afterglow.
[Note: “inundate with snow” is not a typo.] Keywords/Tags: afterglow, remarkable, light, color, eyes, hair, snow, frozen, cavern, grotesqueries, freezing, thaw, degrees, melt, melted, permafrost, snow, rain, rivulets, sun, evaporate, evaporation, love, loss, parting, separation
Mar 30, 2020
Mar 30, 2020 at 1:17 AM UTC
~~~
~~~~~
~~~~~~~
This summer's heat was worse,
problems are at their extremes,
burning, like undying embers.
Murmurs in government, in
public and private communities,
create chaos.
Repetition, initiates a desire
to walk away from what upsets
even for a while...some just
Laugh things off, too tired of
useless smiles and handshakes,
some get fed up, walk away, and
Go to the waters, to the shores
filled with voices crying for peace,
seeking justice.
Throughout our struggles...the
battles we fight, we always must
maintain a dignified silence.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We deserve some respect
no matter
what.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Monsoon season has come,
soon...rain will pour and
shall inundate.
sally b
© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
July 8, 2024
Jul 7, 2024
Jul 7, 2024 at 10:21 PM UTC
This one is out to you,
Ya, the very few,
Wreck it down and stand up new,
Forget about every shot you blew,
The sky is shifting,
Consider it uplifting,
The strict seconds hold you fast,
The soul binds to the body until your last,
The ship is still standing; intact mast,
Never dwell upon your past,
Lost shadow; it will not cast,
The spring bides back until the blast,
Ponder on the nightmare,
Face up, stand tall, no one will stare,
Is it nothing but a dream?
Strengthen your self-esteem,
Rise above,
Inundate the world with love.
--JacobDexterCoffey--
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 7:44 AM UTC