"irrigated" poems - Hello Poetry

"irrigated" poems

Crescendo at the pitch , the touch of the octave, the slide of my ribcage. Put me on the overdrive the feel of the rhythm, beautiful eyes in glimmer. I can't believe we are back, on the track and split laps, the untimed togetherness. At the start of the race, where heat and mist rose, steams in the gush of the **** Poised passion rose to the skies, wetness and action felt so right, the torrential evaporated rain. My future lies in your bed, on the blue walls with graffiti, away in a continent afar. Inside the cocoon of a time-space, irrigated by sprinkles of growth, where we hum through civilisation.

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May 24, 2016

May 24, 2016 at 6:07 PM UTC

My Future Lies in your Bed

Crescendo at the pitch , the touch of the octave, the slide of my ribcage. Put me on the overdrive the feel of the rhythm, beautiful eyes in glimmer. I can't believe we are back, on the track and split laps, the untimed togetherness. At the start of the race, where heat and mist rose, steams in the gush of the **** Poised passion rose to the skies, wetness and action felt so right, the torrential evaporated rain. My future lies in your bed, on the blue walls with graffiti, away in a continent afar. Inside the cocoon of a time-space, irrigated by sprinkles of growth, where we hum through civilisation.

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All our lives are we cultivated— Cultivated by birth, Cultivated by parents, friends, teachers— By ethos— which in turn cultivates the identities which we don— In search of a self. Cultivated by Earth—Irrigated by Love. All so, to be purchased by Death— A ripened Consumer.

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Aug 27, 2018

Aug 27, 2018 at 7:08 AM UTC

All our lives are we cultivated— Cultivated by birth, Cultivated by parents, friends, teachers— By ethos— which in turn cultivates the identities which we don— In search of a self. Cultivated by Earth—Irrigated by Love. All so, to be purchased by Death— A ripened Consumer.

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My castle .... into the heart of the sky there ... above all clouds i build my castle ... there where no one could reach my castle ... no one could be there ... no one have a rights to be ... only the one whom i build for ... there i build my castle for the one who has the rights to be ... to be the queen to my castle .... and the queen to me heart ... there above all clouds i build my castle ... build it only for you there ... there where i sowed my love ... and irrigated it through my heart's blood ... to keep you always alive into my castle ... there i build my castle ... created it just to be our kingdom ... our love's kingdom ... and named it by your word's name ... to be the castle to our love ... and to live into our castles' love forever ... there i'm creating you sweetheart ... would you be there with me ... would you be the queen to my castle ... i build it just only for you ... so please ... don't be late ... i'm waiting you there ... hazem al..

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Mar 10, 2017

Mar 10, 2017 at 11:56 AM UTC

My castle .... into the heart of the sky there ... above all clouds i build my castle ... there where no one could reach my castle ... no one could be there ... no one have a rights to be ... only the one whom i build for ... there i build my castle for the one who has the rights to be ... to be the queen to my castle .... and the queen to me heart ... there above all clouds i build my castle ... build it only for you there ... there where i sowed my love ... and irrigated it through my heart's blood ... to keep you always alive into my castle ... there i build my castle ... created it just to be our kingdom ... our love's kingdom ... and named it by your word's name ... to be the castle to our love ... and to live into our castles' love forever ... there i'm creating you sweetheart ... would you be there with me ... would you be the queen to my castle ... i build it just only for you ... so please ... don't be late ... i'm waiting you there ... hazem al..

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"polite for a yankee" making stop sign bullet holes we start the massive pump churning into irrigated watermelon rows headlight round a shadow bend in nightline tree bulk sleep with empty cans beside the ashtray couch on matted ****

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Oct 18, 2012

Oct 18, 2012 at 7:22 PM UTC

"polite for a yankee" making stop sign bullet holes we start the massive pump churning into irrigated watermelon rows headlight round a shadow bend in nightline tree bulk sleep with empty cans beside the ashtray couch on matted ****

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My soil Fertile and irrigated Abundant water Flowing deep and torrential Undammed waterfall Your wand Poking chubby clouds Exceptional precipitation level Fast flowing river Amazonian mode Your wand and my soil Never, I said, never a drought

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Jul 17, 2013

Jul 17, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC

My soil Fertile and irrigated Abundant water Flowing deep and torrential Undammed waterfall Your wand Poking chubby clouds Exceptional precipitation level Fast flowing river Amazonian mode Your wand and my soil Never, I said, never a drought

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Ever since you left this world I've gradually been losing myself. Ever since you deserted me, Left me to fend for myself, A trickle of water has irrigated my mind, Slowly but surely. I no longer get joy from silly putty, Because that was ours, And isn't meant to be mine alone. Just like our fingers shaped the putty, Your absence has shaped my world. I no longer invent alien drag queens With a mixture of our names, Because that was our creation, And your name is now etched on a gravestone. I no longer carry around the alarm clock That we used to pretend was our phone, Because that was a time when connection mattered, And now I know when I call it'll reiterate you're gone. I no longer smile at the idea of my own recovery, A thing I pushed onto you so strongly, Because I wasn't there to get you through your own, And you needed me more than I knew. So as this trickle of water creates cracks in my mind, I know that insanity is coming for me, That I'll break at any moment. But for now I'll stay in denial, To the fact that the death of a best friend always comes Slowly but surely.

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Apr 7, 2015

Apr 7, 2015 at 8:54 PM UTC

rachel-herrmann

Slowly but Surely

Ever since you left this world I've gradually been losing myself. Ever since you deserted me, Left me to fend for myself, A trickle of water has irrigated my mind, Slowly but surely. I no longer get joy from silly putty, Because that was ours, And isn't meant to be mine alone. Just like our fingers shaped the putty, Your absence has shaped my world. I no longer invent alien drag queens With a mixture of our names, Because that was our creation, And your name is now etched on a gravestone. I no longer carry around the alarm clock That we used to pretend was our phone, Because that was a time when connection mattered, And now I know when I call it'll reiterate you're gone. I no longer smile at the idea of my own recovery, A thing I pushed onto you so strongly, Because I wasn't there to get you through your own, And you needed me more than I knew. So as this trickle of water creates cracks in my mind, I know that insanity is coming for me, That I'll break at any moment. But for now I'll stay in denial, To the fact that the death of a best friend always comes Slowly but surely.

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My eyes are a constant glitter when such dreams pop up. It's nice to feel that way again, still, after the endless march of time separates the wheat from the chaff. Guess which one am I: the one that doesn't get exported, which makes sense because My eyes are a constant glitter when such dreams pop up. It's nice to feel that way again, still, after the endless march of time... And what exactly is that glitter? Stars? Ghosts? Memories? Or the final flicker of a bedroom light bulb. Or the last swipe of now-dark screen. Or a distant goodnight from chaff to wheat; fertile land to barren desert, yet still planting himself to the irrigated seas of Spring, where burning sun was still growth and when one looked forward to growing up like this. Winter has never felt so warm. Nor wheat and chaff so warm and and like the thoughts of you and me.

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May 13, 2015

May 13, 2015 at 7:35 PM UTC

My eyes are a constant glitter when such dreams pop up. It's nice to feel that way again, still, after the endless march of time separates the wheat from the chaff. Guess which one am I: the one that doesn't get exported, which makes sense because My eyes are a constant glitter when such dreams pop up. It's nice to feel that way again, still, after the endless march of time... And what exactly is that glitter? Stars? Ghosts? Memories? Or the final flicker of a bedroom light bulb. Or the last swipe of now-dark screen. Or a distant goodnight from chaff to wheat; fertile land to barren desert, yet still planting himself to the irrigated seas of Spring, where burning sun was still growth and when one looked forward to growing up like this. Winter has never felt so warm. Nor wheat and chaff so warm and and like the thoughts of you and me.

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Straddled, lovingly, fibers needle into bone Your anxiety of anticipation, How I wish it were potable, So I may drink the terror I have bred in you I perch above you, heinous desires for your flora to overrun my entrails Of all the silt eyes in the world, yours are the darkest Pining for your validation, For your attention, As withered roots desperately crawl towards the damp soil But your heart is barren of solicitude And so I will soak the soil with your blood. This charming man, So cunning, and so wise If it is not I who fulfills your ****** appetite, No one will. Undergrowth impels into irrigated bushes Hedonism, even as your eyes paint such terror inimitable to capture in brush strokes Voraciously, desperately, It builds, the adrenaline, the bliss, And into me you are, fulminating, everything your pedigree can give I raise the steel, and I am unafraid For my calloused hands have been soiled for generations Plunging, Squelching, Broken yawps. Your lineage, Cradled by forever empty organs, Is just as barren as your soul. As your gore suffocates your lungs, And my tongue caresses my blade, I watch those silt eyes turn even darker You will expire in me, And no one will have you again.

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Feb 24, 2025

Feb 24, 2025 at 1:57 AM UTC

Straddled, lovingly, fibers needle into bone Your anxiety of anticipation, How I wish it were potable, So I may drink the terror I have bred in you I perch above you, heinous desires for your flora to overrun my entrails Of all the silt eyes in the world, yours are the darkest Pining for your validation, For your attention, As withered roots desperately crawl towards the damp soil But your heart is barren of solicitude And so I will soak the soil with your blood. This charming man, So cunning, and so wise If it is not I who fulfills your ****** appetite, No one will. Undergrowth impels into irrigated bushes Hedonism, even as your eyes paint such terror inimitable to capture in brush strokes Voraciously, desperately, It builds, the adrenaline, the bliss, And into me you are, fulminating, everything your pedigree can give I raise the steel, and I am unafraid For my calloused hands have been soiled for generations Plunging, Squelching, Broken yawps. Your lineage, Cradled by forever empty organs, Is just as barren as your soul. As your gore suffocates your lungs, And my tongue caresses my blade, I watch those silt eyes turn even darker You will expire in me, And no one will have you again.

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Chronologically, the life force of upward momentum Eratus, irrigated field leaves at the backdoor Leaves in the mailbox Always upward, from below, the deepest place This may have been out of my frame of reference though Did you see the half-mast falsehood Up the pole, down the hole Listen to the secret word Monitor of the algorithm

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Apr 12, 2016

Apr 12, 2016 at 9:52 AM UTC

Erratus Apparatus

Chronologically, the life force of upward momentum Eratus, irrigated field leaves at the backdoor Leaves in the mailbox Always upward, from below, the deepest place This may have been out of my frame of reference though Did you see the half-mast falsehood Up the pole, down the hole Listen to the secret word Monitor of the algorithm

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I miss the scraggles of irrigated brain matter the kind that used to spray out of my mind. I miss the corregated gore that would line up like so many words on an ephemeral canvas. Alas, I am no more.

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May 29, 2014

May 29, 2014 at 1:34 AM UTC

My creative was murdered

I miss the scraggles of irrigated brain matter the kind that used to spray out of my mind. I miss the corregated gore that would line up like so many words on an ephemeral canvas. Alas, I am no more.

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I am breathing water through my skin - Thirsty living sponge absorbing thought bubble exhales Inhaled opinion torrents against the current of mental oceans flowing through the river of my [self-creation], Liquefied individual seas filing the space of bone, blood, ***** Fleshy container of moon-tide movings, white capped vocal waves splashing into the port of ears, Smashing boardwalk, tropic landmasses opposing progression of this internal flooding, There was no Arc for my [air self], two-legged, old self, I am irrigated in washing lake water, fresh stream sweat beading on the lip of prayers to old goddesses, crying melting glacier eyes, transformed – reformed further informed, [simple oasis pond] in the [desert] everything ~

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Sep 18, 2014

Sep 18, 2014 at 7:11 PM UTC

I am breathing water through my skin - Thirsty living sponge absorbing thought bubble exhales Inhaled opinion torrents against the current of mental oceans flowing through the river of my [self-creation], Liquefied individual seas filing the space of bone, blood, ***** Fleshy container of moon-tide movings, white capped vocal waves splashing into the port of ears, Smashing boardwalk, tropic landmasses opposing progression of this internal flooding, There was no Arc for my [air self], two-legged, old self, I am irrigated in washing lake water, fresh stream sweat beading on the lip of prayers to old goddesses, crying melting glacier eyes, transformed – reformed further informed, [simple oasis pond] in the [desert] everything ~

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The ****** lay down, As the untouched stream Ran through her untouched skin. Mountains grew like ruptures, Imperfections, grainy tissue. Leaves sprung up like parasites, Clinging to dear life. And she remained unmoved. She remained harmonious. Harmonious with the sudden Obstructions that became Carved, engraved, furrowed Onto her pure surface. And with sudden violence, Her skin was ruptured, Manipulated, ruffled. Her once untouched earth, Was dug out, strained, And left out to the Corrosion of the winds. It was them, those parasites. The ingrate life, that took Advantage. The animals that built, Constructed, and cultivated. Those that formed values. Rules in the midst of chaos. And she remained unmoved, She remained content, Content with the sudden Colonies, civilizations, That sprung up like Dead may flies in spring. But then, they brought up Disease. They brought up War, Poverty, Filth. They broke those values, Like paper chains. And irrigated her earth, With pools of blood. And she remained still. She remained petrified. Petrified with that That developed, unraveled, Birthed, and destroyed, On top of her. She lay down as her skin, Once fertile became sand. Her rivers ceased to stream, And dried up like cherries Under the heated sun. And the mountains crumbled, And the leaves withered. She lay down as the Colonies collapsed, and The civilizations were left Abandoned, forgotten. She lay down as the Parasites retreated, Died, and disintegrated. And she remained crippled, Battered, mutilated, But standing still. Not untouched, but proud, Not intact, but standing. Alone, but at peace at last.

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Nov 14, 2014

Nov 14, 2014 at 1:41 PM UTC

seagullsareevil

The ****** lay down, As the untouched stream Ran through her untouched skin. Mountains grew like ruptures, Imperfections, grainy tissue. Leaves sprung up like parasites, Clinging to dear life. And she remained unmoved. She remained harmonious. Harmonious with the sudden Obstructions that became Carved, engraved, furrowed Onto her pure surface. And with sudden violence, Her skin was ruptured, Manipulated, ruffled. Her once untouched earth, Was dug out, strained, And left out to the Corrosion of the winds. It was them, those parasites. The ingrate life, that took Advantage. The animals that built, Constructed, and cultivated. Those that formed values. Rules in the midst of chaos. And she remained unmoved, She remained content, Content with the sudden Colonies, civilizations, That sprung up like Dead may flies in spring. But then, they brought up Disease. They brought up War, Poverty, Filth. They broke those values, Like paper chains. And irrigated her earth, With pools of blood. And she remained still. She remained petrified. Petrified with that That developed, unraveled, Birthed, and destroyed, On top of her. She lay down as her skin, Once fertile became sand. Her rivers ceased to stream, And dried up like cherries Under the heated sun. And the mountains crumbled, And the leaves withered. She lay down as the Colonies collapsed, and The civilizations were left Abandoned, forgotten. She lay down as the Parasites retreated, Died, and disintegrated. And she remained crippled, Battered, mutilated, But standing still. Not untouched, but proud, Not intact, but standing. Alone, but at peace at last.

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In a bus, sat an old couple and held each other’s hands. Two hands were clenched together, as they had when they were just born. They were at peace with what would arrive, yet sweaty and energized like they had been when they played in the green grounds as little, naive boys. Six decades of intimacy running through their minds. Both chanted and repeated prayers and wishes for each other and others. They were mid-desert but their bond well-irrigated. Their fields had borne flowers. And water was plenty. What had happened was that a band of robbers had attacked. They threatened to **** and so, they did.

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Jan 15, 2021

Jan 15, 2021 at 6:19 AM UTC

Six decades of Intimacy.

In a bus, sat an old couple and held each other’s hands. Two hands were clenched together, as they had when they were just born. They were at peace with what would arrive, yet sweaty and energized like they had been when they played in the green grounds as little, naive boys. Six decades of intimacy running through their minds. Both chanted and repeated prayers and wishes for each other and others. They were mid-desert but their bond well-irrigated. Their fields had borne flowers. And water was plenty. What had happened was that a band of robbers had attacked. They threatened to **** and so, they did.

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I burned my eyes In commemoration of the fire Fire that was coming From your mouth. Like the Samurai swords Words are sharpened On the skin of a woman Penetrates the blood Irrigated dream -Drips through memory.

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Mar 23, 2013

Mar 23, 2013 at 5:52 PM UTC

MEMORIAL OF BLOOD

I burned my eyes In commemoration of the fire Fire that was coming From your mouth. Like the Samurai swords Words are sharpened On the skin of a woman Penetrates the blood Irrigated dream -Drips through memory.

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. our noses huffing our eyes flirting out vetting the loose night air a display of yearning we did a grand deed a mammal slain at our heart and we are the wrecking children we killed ourselves a deer ( no small thing ) flashlights propped in nooks open the prey for dressing we decorated a tree with the task slings of intestinal tubing open prey for dressing vocal prayer for the **** praise the attributes that we ended the characteristics we assigned it live meat in perish organs adding moist hot breath to a waking cold night after our butcher act after the parcels and beast are stowed amongst the trees we take off as phantoms in touch 'to ourselves be sacrifice and yet return' is somehow the plan winds pick up and cold rain drives sideways leaves of the bushes flashing fish silver underbellies a fleshing thrill combing the trees an urgent spirited excitement back at daybreak we skin off our leather grip slippers remove our party plate masks and in the irrigated mourning grass wipe our feet wash away our tread and our threat

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Sep 6, 2024

Sep 6, 2024 at 11:33 AM UTC

. our noses huffing our eyes flirting out vetting the loose night air a display of yearning we did a grand deed a mammal slain at our heart and we are the wrecking children we killed ourselves a deer ( no small thing ) flashlights propped in nooks open the prey for dressing we decorated a tree with the task slings of intestinal tubing open prey for dressing vocal prayer for the **** praise the attributes that we ended the characteristics we assigned it live meat in perish organs adding moist hot breath to a waking cold night after our butcher act after the parcels and beast are stowed amongst the trees we take off as phantoms in touch 'to ourselves be sacrifice and yet return' is somehow the plan winds pick up and cold rain drives sideways leaves of the bushes flashing fish silver underbellies a fleshing thrill combing the trees an urgent spirited excitement back at daybreak we skin off our leather grip slippers remove our party plate masks and in the irrigated mourning grass wipe our feet wash away our tread and our threat

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Though man seeds no milk she feeds upon my breast, gluttony sustaining upon my being and I am irrigated. She is subtle on her needs gently massaging me into subjugation and I wilfully rest upon her jagged shoulders. I am a depleted image that is fading with the contemplation that I am but a vessel of her heeding and soon I will be a husk of silence. But in tainted milks there is thoughts of freedom, that stigmata on her yearnings and sour aromas now tainting her hold over my essence now screaming. I was her substance, now I am desecrated shell of near nothingness. But I'm wilful of her disposition and she is fading upon the lilies of waters that drown her needing. She is drowning in ill thoughts wanting to devour my being, but I am a new blossom and she is that which has fallen a leaf of decayed time and I am now a free flower.

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Aug 29, 2016

Aug 29, 2016 at 5:21 PM UTC

She Suckled Upon The Source

Though man seeds no milk she feeds upon my breast, gluttony sustaining upon my being and I am irrigated. She is subtle on her needs gently massaging me into subjugation and I wilfully rest upon her jagged shoulders. I am a depleted image that is fading with the contemplation that I am but a vessel of her heeding and soon I will be a husk of silence. But in tainted milks there is thoughts of freedom, that stigmata on her yearnings and sour aromas now tainting her hold over my essence now screaming. I was her substance, now I am desecrated shell of near nothingness. But I'm wilful of her disposition and she is fading upon the lilies of waters that drown her needing. She is drowning in ill thoughts wanting to devour my being, but I am a new blossom and she is that which has fallen a leaf of decayed time and I am now a free flower.

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Mother's day ... my mother ... oh my mother... my dear mother, all what i have in this world... what should i write to you on this day... not only this day,every day... what could i write... how could i write a poem about you... how poetries could be written about you... while they all got out from inside you... from your warm lap and pure heart... the poet,poetries and a hand which writes a poetries... they all got out from you... how could i give you what you deserve through my words... never to give you ,the best as what you gave... God and you and my late dad... you are only whom created a poets... great and greatest poets here on this earth only because of you... because of you... we are a humans... we are a poets... we are a lovers... without you... we are nothing... mother.. my love... mother,the river of love that irrigated us... mother,the fall of love ,who taught us a love... and gave us the best to be the best ,but not like you... mother,a warm lap ,who taught us how to love,how to give a love.. mother, no words could give you what you deserve... mother,without you ... we couldn't write any poems even any letter... without you... we couldn't be a poets,a best poets, if we are... without you... we couldn't be here writing and wishing you the best and the greatest life... without you... we couldn't ever feel and touch the warm and the love... that love which we drunk from your warm chest... my dear sweet love mother... not just on this day... every day however i am alive... wishing you a happy pleased long life... to keep giving a love as you do always... love you my sweet mother... and all mothers on this earth... To all mothers in this world ... To my mother ... Saying to you all ... Happy life wishing you all ... yours,.. hazem al..

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Mar 21, 2017

Mar 21, 2017 at 2:56 AM UTC

Mother's day ... my mother ...

Mother's day ... my mother ... oh my mother... my dear mother, all what i have in this world... what should i write to you on this day... not only this day,every day... what could i write... how could i write a poem about you... how poetries could be written about you... while they all got out from inside you... from your warm lap and pure heart... the poet,poetries and a hand which writes a poetries... they all got out from you... how could i give you what you deserve through my words... never to give you ,the best as what you gave... God and you and my late dad... you are only whom created a poets... great and greatest poets here on this earth only because of you... because of you... we are a humans... we are a poets... we are a lovers... without you... we are nothing... mother.. my love... mother,the river of love that irrigated us... mother,the fall of love ,who taught us a love... and gave us the best to be the best ,but not like you... mother,a warm lap ,who taught us how to love,how to give a love.. mother, no words could give you what you deserve... mother,without you ... we couldn't write any poems even any letter... without you... we couldn't be a poets,a best poets, if we are... without you... we couldn't be here writing and wishing you the best and the greatest life... without you... we couldn't ever feel and touch the warm and the love... that love which we drunk from your warm chest... my dear sweet love mother... not just on this day... every day however i am alive... wishing you a happy pleased long life... to keep giving a love as you do always... love you my sweet mother... and all mothers on this earth... To all mothers in this world ... To my mother ... Saying to you all ... Happy life wishing you all ... yours,.. hazem al..

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In the midst of a cold November night tears falling from the dark in silence not one sound piercing, or one single light. blackness giving us nothing but utter pretense. the misted air cloaked with contrite tapping the exposed souls of the night rides along the cracked frost heave into the abyss of the wilted sense guided by merely an undulated tone of right. running from itself within its own defense. 'Twas the dawn of a bitter November light and frozen tears irrigated days fence no thing knew of the blackness in the night. or the surroundings that shriveled its sense.

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Nov 13, 2013

Nov 13, 2013 at 9:26 PM UTC

In the midst of a cold November night tears falling from the dark in silence not one sound piercing, or one single light. blackness giving us nothing but utter pretense. the misted air cloaked with contrite tapping the exposed souls of the night rides along the cracked frost heave into the abyss of the wilted sense guided by merely an undulated tone of right. running from itself within its own defense. 'Twas the dawn of a bitter November light and frozen tears irrigated days fence no thing knew of the blackness in the night. or the surroundings that shriveled its sense.

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love's maker ... i am ... i'm the letter ... dancing into your book's life ... letters within letters ... dances to write your life ... through my feelings and love ... i'm the happiness ... the happiness to your heart ... to your thoughts ... to your imaginations ... and to all your dreams ... which i drew through my words ... i'm the maker of love ... the love to your heart ... which i planted there ... irrigated it within my blood ... runs so deep inside your ... writes the love within every drop ... as i always telling you ... with every new day ... i love you ... i'm your world ... your real earth ... i'm your happiness... your real sweet dreams ... i'm the love ... love i'v made ... created inside you ... just to be for me ... yes sweetheart ... i'm the maker of love ... and because of you ... i wrote you as a poem ... the poem to my life ... and still keep writing you ... to give you more love ... through my all breathes ... and all my words ... which it always says ... love you ... hazem al ...

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Nov 11, 2016

Nov 11, 2016 at 2:50 AM UTC

love's maker ...

love's maker ... i am ... i'm the letter ... dancing into your book's life ... letters within letters ... dances to write your life ... through my feelings and love ... i'm the happiness ... the happiness to your heart ... to your thoughts ... to your imaginations ... and to all your dreams ... which i drew through my words ... i'm the maker of love ... the love to your heart ... which i planted there ... irrigated it within my blood ... runs so deep inside your ... writes the love within every drop ... as i always telling you ... with every new day ... i love you ... i'm your world ... your real earth ... i'm your happiness... your real sweet dreams ... i'm the love ... love i'v made ... created inside you ... just to be for me ... yes sweetheart ... i'm the maker of love ... and because of you ... i wrote you as a poem ... the poem to my life ... and still keep writing you ... to give you more love ... through my all breathes ... and all my words ... which it always says ... love you ... hazem al ...

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i can see death and it can see me blinking lights out shimmering dust bowl dreams they are irrigated they are firm that is death inside of itself these things people call important or the things that make up themselves wellbutrin dreams adderoll dreams all of it spheres of mica makes up for the sand in the desert or the tall rouge waves in the ocean for everyone in distress for everyone who loves or has loved for everyone who is totally alone for everyone who gets their wishes we share our hearts and souls shed nothing but water color tears should you feel alone or empty please know that i am a heartbeat away put your head on my shoulder i can stay like this forever

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Mar 20, 2015

Mar 20, 2015 at 3:29 AM UTC

the men and cement

i can see death and it can see me blinking lights out shimmering dust bowl dreams they are irrigated they are firm that is death inside of itself these things people call important or the things that make up themselves wellbutrin dreams adderoll dreams all of it spheres of mica makes up for the sand in the desert or the tall rouge waves in the ocean for everyone in distress for everyone who loves or has loved for everyone who is totally alone for everyone who gets their wishes we share our hearts and souls shed nothing but water color tears should you feel alone or empty please know that i am a heartbeat away put your head on my shoulder i can stay like this forever

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A lady had a garden of oranges oranges were green her children were in teen The garden was irrigated oranges went yellow her children needed 'fellow' The garden entered spring oranges got burr her children left her The garden suffered autumn though oranges were ripe her endless tears... and nobody to wipe The garden may love its fruits and oranges may be orange but this poet wants revenge !

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Jun 17, 2017

Jun 17, 2017 at 12:50 AM UTC

A Lady with oranges

A lady had a garden of oranges oranges were green her children were in teen The garden was irrigated oranges went yellow her children needed 'fellow' The garden entered spring oranges got burr her children left her The garden suffered autumn though oranges were ripe her endless tears... and nobody to wipe The garden may love its fruits and oranges may be orange but this poet wants revenge !

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by these outskirts of the world, adrift in the post-truth era a few fragments of scattered certainties here and there sometimes in the middle of a meadow sometimes on the asphalt, between the cracks in the cement inside puddles they sink small splinters of evidence like inhaling breeze that feeds and in the gestures in posture in the look in the eyes around the lips between wrinkles like furrows to be irrigated with tears sometimes of joy under this forgotten suburban sky small fragments of truth not in the words but in the body heat and in silence silence please ----------------------- nel calore di un corpo presso queste periferie del mondo alla deriva nell'era della post-verità pochi frammenti di certezze sparse qua è là a volte in mezzo a un prato a volte sull'asfalto, tra le crepe nel cemento dentro a pozzanghere affondano piccole schegge di evidenze come inspirare una brezza fresca che nutre e poi nei gesti nella postura nello sguardo negli occhi attorno alle labbra tra le rughe come solchi da irrigare con lacrime a volte anche di gioia sotto questo cielo urbano dimenticato piccoli frammenti di verità non nelle parole ma nel calore del corpo e del silenzio silenzio per favore ........................... en el calor del cuerpo en estas afueras del mundo, a la deriva en la era de la post-verdad algunos fragmentos de certezas dispersas aquí y allá a veces entre la hierba del campo a veces en el asfalto, entre las grietas en el cemento adentro de charcos se hunden pequeñas astillas de evidencia como inhalar brisa que alimenta y en los gestos en la postura en la mirada en los ojos alrededor de los labios entre arrugas como surcos a regar con lágrimas a veces de alegría bajo este olvidado cielo suburbano pequeños fragmentos de verdad no en las palabras en el calor del cuerpo y en el silencio silencio por favor

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Aug 4, 2018

Aug 4, 2018 at 5:59 PM UTC

by these outskirts of the world, adrift in the post-truth era a few fragments of scattered certainties here and there sometimes in the middle of a meadow sometimes on the asphalt, between the cracks in the cement inside puddles they sink small splinters of evidence like inhaling breeze that feeds and in the gestures in posture in the look in the eyes around the lips between wrinkles like furrows to be irrigated with tears sometimes of joy under this forgotten suburban sky small fragments of truth not in the words but in the body heat and in silence silence please ----------------------- nel calore di un corpo presso queste periferie del mondo alla deriva nell'era della post-verità pochi frammenti di certezze sparse qua è là a volte in mezzo a un prato a volte sull'asfalto, tra le crepe nel cemento dentro a pozzanghere affondano piccole schegge di evidenze come inspirare una brezza fresca che nutre e poi nei gesti nella postura nello sguardo negli occhi attorno alle labbra tra le rughe come solchi da irrigare con lacrime a volte anche di gioia sotto questo cielo urbano dimenticato piccoli frammenti di verità non nelle parole ma nel calore del corpo e del silenzio silenzio per favore ........................... en el calor del cuerpo en estas afueras del mundo, a la deriva en la era de la post-verdad algunos fragmentos de certezas dispersas aquí y allá a veces entre la hierba del campo a veces en el asfalto, entre las grietas en el cemento adentro de charcos se hunden pequeñas astillas de evidencia como inhalar brisa que alimenta y en los gestos en la postura en la mirada en los ojos alrededor de los labios entre arrugas como surcos a regar con lágrimas a veces de alegría bajo este olvidado cielo suburbano pequeños fragmentos de verdad no en las palabras en el calor del cuerpo y en el silencio silencio por favor

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Having found you I have found the World, Let it be this land with all its waters & soil, Or be it the bluish sky up above our lands. Out in open fields I notice the birds flying, Love flies towards you brewing up to boil, Safe farm of friendship lovingly irrigated.

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Mar 8, 2014

Mar 8, 2014 at 11:14 PM UTC

Found The World

Having found you I have found the World, Let it be this land with all its waters & soil, Or be it the bluish sky up above our lands. Out in open fields I notice the birds flying, Love flies towards you brewing up to boil, Safe farm of friendship lovingly irrigated.

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I’m a ship prepared to sail Through aerial gales To live a fairytale Above scary jails That sadly prevail Below my trail I look below me To see hatred growing While the lights are strobing From the guns they’re loading That are my foreboding If I ever start slowing I’ll hit the ground lowly And the bullets flowing Will get to know me But I have protectors Against those who hector They watch my vector And disarm the projectors My protectors are my friends My protectors are my colleagues And my flight will never end As long as they will follow me Enemy insurgents Become a disturbance Creating turbulence As they herd the dense Until they’re furious And shoot the breeze With RPGs Until my army sees They’re harming me My friends flank me in jet fighters To protect me from the assault And my squad keeps getting wider By adding those I exalt I fly in the clouds With my friends all around Breaking the barrier of sound While never going down Foes shoot missiles Of dismissal With words visceral To make me miserable But my valiant defenders Shoot down the offenders With consolation rendered In their care so tender We employ evasive maneuvers To avoid the pervasive losers And the invasive abusers All of whom are cruisers Flying low Dying slow Blinding snow Lines their nose But the enemy fleet is approaching Our territory they’re encroaching While we’re somberly toasting Seeing the numbers they’re boasting We try to fight With all our might But day turns to night As I gain a suffering plight The hovering helicopters Shoot distracting flares With tantalizing offers Leaving my targeting impaired So I veer off course Like a lost horse In a frost force Of top torque Once my squad is separated The enemy is elevated Showing the hell that waited While my friends designated Me as venerated Like Satan irrigated The peers I hated Just being patient Until I use a spaceship The demons chase Me into space Until there’s no trace Of the Devil’s face But I can’t eject now With space all around While my crew starts to leave Between asteroids I weave While trying to grieve My group disintegrating They float into the nether Quiet as a feather As my ties are severed They float away forever And I start drifting alone Drifting becomes my home Drifting into the dark unknown Depression drifts into my bones

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Apr 29, 2019

Apr 29, 2019 at 10:28 PM UTC

I’m a ship prepared to sail Through aerial gales To live a fairytale Above scary jails That sadly prevail Below my trail I look below me To see hatred growing While the lights are strobing From the guns they’re loading That are my foreboding If I ever start slowing I’ll hit the ground lowly And the bullets flowing Will get to know me But I have protectors Against those who hector They watch my vector And disarm the projectors My protectors are my friends My protectors are my colleagues And my flight will never end As long as they will follow me Enemy insurgents Become a disturbance Creating turbulence As they herd the dense Until they’re furious And shoot the breeze With RPGs Until my army sees They’re harming me My friends flank me in jet fighters To protect me from the assault And my squad keeps getting wider By adding those I exalt I fly in the clouds With my friends all around Breaking the barrier of sound While never going down Foes shoot missiles Of dismissal With words visceral To make me miserable But my valiant defenders Shoot down the offenders With consolation rendered In their care so tender We employ evasive maneuvers To avoid the pervasive losers And the invasive abusers All of whom are cruisers Flying low Dying slow Blinding snow Lines their nose But the enemy fleet is approaching Our territory they’re encroaching While we’re somberly toasting Seeing the numbers they’re boasting We try to fight With all our might But day turns to night As I gain a suffering plight The hovering helicopters Shoot distracting flares With tantalizing offers Leaving my targeting impaired So I veer off course Like a lost horse In a frost force Of top torque Once my squad is separated The enemy is elevated Showing the hell that waited While my friends designated Me as venerated Like Satan irrigated The peers I hated Just being patient Until I use a spaceship The demons chase Me into space Until there’s no trace Of the Devil’s face But I can’t eject now With space all around While my crew starts to leave Between asteroids I weave While trying to grieve My group disintegrating They float into the nether Quiet as a feather As my ties are severed They float away forever And I start drifting alone Drifting becomes my home Drifting into the dark unknown Depression drifts into my bones

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I’ve been planted with sunflower seeds, been irrigated once a day with condition of conceived forecast, been left under the sun to grow and burn, So I grew and bloomed and blossomed and flowered and opened my ****** petals for the hungry hornet to see, I felt the sting and the slit and the pain and the ***** My pistil now empty, I ached and wept for the hornet fluttered and flew and travelled, pollen on his lips, I wept and shattered, I birthed a daughter, beautiful and tall, but I dwindled and shrunk and weakened and waned, felt fingers on my stem, pulling and plucking, Petals depleted, dried and drained, wasted away, a hornet on its way

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Feb 7, 2020

Feb 7, 2020 at 6:32 AM UTC

I’ve been planted with sunflower seeds, been irrigated once a day with condition of conceived forecast, been left under the sun to grow and burn, So I grew and bloomed and blossomed and flowered and opened my ****** petals for the hungry hornet to see, I felt the sting and the slit and the pain and the ***** My pistil now empty, I ached and wept for the hornet fluttered and flew and travelled, pollen on his lips, I wept and shattered, I birthed a daughter, beautiful and tall, but I dwindled and shrunk and weakened and waned, felt fingers on my stem, pulling and plucking, Petals depleted, dried and drained, wasted away, a hornet on its way

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