"keenness" poems
*Quintessential charmer, libidinous crow pheasant, has an eye on him,
thinly disguised mating calls disclose her keenness of intention,
protruding derriere, provocative walk, her amour leaves
nothing to guess, 'what you fancy is my desire' her acts yell out to him.*
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 9:20 AM UTC
a pentagon study
determined that putin
is an anti-social control freak
kind of vermin
(really? this required a genius
kind of keenness? really?)
darpa should stick to cool things
like the internet and invisibility cloaks
and drones armed with pork parts
a rodina rodent in the grain
needs spankin'
with more than just sanctions
cuz knocking out their incisors
doesn't make them any nicer
- a rat with no teeth
is still a rat.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 9:15 AM UTC
New beginnings come with a frenzy of excitement and curiosity.
It all felt like going to school for the first time.
Take back to the time when we were taking our first step into the wisdom of life.
Doesn't we all felt the same while stepping towards "A New Beginning"?
The feeling we know will be experiencing every time while staging up to a new level
The mixed feeling of joy, fear, passion.
The keenness for having a new array of beautiful and inspiring souls.
The moment for increasing the souls in your circle.
The moment for reliving the feeling of newness.
New Beginnings always brings an insane amount of perceptions in a life.
Oct 10, 2021
Oct 10, 2021 at 4:07 PM UTC
How countlessly they congregate
O’er our tumultuous snow,
Which flows in shapes as tall as trees
When wintry winds do blow!—
As if with keenness for our fate,
Our faltering few steps on
To white rest, and a place of rest
Invisible at dawn,—
And yet with neither love nor hate,
Those stars like some snow-white
Minerva’s snow-white marble eyes
Without the gift of sight.
2.5k
When the seed of enmity is sown…
Shocked mind dawdles
Anger takes its seat
Startled brain malfunctions
Germ of jealousy sets in
Pained heart cries
Hatred straps relations
Interest fades away
Vengeance creeps in
Zeal dies away
Cunningness takes its position
Curiosity passes off
Disillusionment walks in
Passion loses identity
Rivalry spoils relation
Keenness to knowledge dwindles
Harsh words have no wisdom
Actions become meaningless
Despair leads to madness…
When the seed of love is scattered …
Words gain wisdom
Compassion binds the relation
Spirit of pride looks up
Actions have aim
Friendship and brotherhood grows
Zeal and passion intensify
Progeny adds value to life
Parentage gets importance.
Everything around looks colorful
Life becomes meaningful…
So its for you and me to decide
Which seed to be chosen ….
Seed of enmity or love
To make life worthy to live …
**************************
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 2:55 PM UTC
I’m at the acorn, a coffee shop, trying to write a poem but my mind is blank. I got here early enough to get one of the comfy chairs - yeah, I’m a self-indulgent monster - and I’m not getting up until my having to *** becomes a medical emergency.
What rhymes with blank.. Spank? THAT would take this poem in a WHOLE new direction - maybe it needs a new direction. Why does coffee that comes with latte-art, which costs 20 times more than what you can have in your dorm room, taste so much better?
A “Hi,” reveals a man standing in front of me, looking down and smiling - I assume he’s smiling because we’re all masked. I look up, blinking, and give him a questioning look and a head tilt - because we are masked. People at tables and chairs near us look up from their zoo of electronic devices to give us the onceover. There’s a keenness to him that makes me want him to go away and I begin to feel a nagging trepidation.
“Apparently I didn’t make much of an impression,” he says. He’s right and frankly, I’m thinking we should keep it that way. “We met at the Pundits party a couple of weeks ago?” He says, the inflection of his whole sentence rising, like a question.
Some background…
To her friends, Lisa being gorgeous is everyday and unremarkable, but take her out somewhere and she draws all eyes, like you drove up in a growling, fluorescent red Ferrari. She’s invited everywhere (she calls them “shiny ornament” invites) and one afternoon, as we’re coming back to the dorm a girl comes up to us - to her - hands her a ½ slip of paper and strikes up a conversation.
She introduces herself and runs through the usual, “What year are you in, where ya from.. bla bla. Then she asks, “Would you ever consider attending a naked party - have you heard of them?” To my surprise, Lisa smiles, brushes the hair out of her face and says, “I’d think about it,” which makes me laugh nervously, “You would?” I interrupt. The girl says that the paper is an open invitation from “The Pundits”, and that there’s a URL on it with details. “Just bring the slip,” she says, touching the paper in Lisa’s hand.
Guess where I “met” this guy? In an instant, I’m tense, and if I were a fox, I’d gnaw-off my paw to get out of there.
Feb 24, 2022
Feb 24, 2022 at 7:52 AM UTC
If you wish to win your man’s heart somehow
Show interest rolling your admiring eyes,
As he raves over the pet subjects of his choice,
Occasionally responding to what he says
Simulate keenness, though you don’t have it
When he prates over his job and its challenges
Pep up his confidence through words of concern
Make him feel, you are there to share his tensions
A wife’s pleasing demeanor and care
Can ease a man’s life and his blues
As filtering sunlight melts the mists
That hides the meadow’s lovely blooms
Know his favorite food and the cuisine he loves
Prepare them oftener than he can expect
The easiest way to get into a man’s heart
Is through gratifying and titillating his palate
Though he may show disinterest in flattery
Compliment him over the ‘great things’ he has done
You’ll see his former stance suddenly changed
Through praise, sure, his heart you have won
In the privacy of your closet on cool, starlit nights
Lie closer to him, even feigning false passion
As a flower bares its perfumed heart to the bee
Give yourself completely to him sans restriction
Thus win him through the magic of wooing
Delight him with your soft whispers of crooning
Never forget to take care of your grooming
And sure, day by day you will see your love blooming
Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 3:33 AM UTC
But roses are indeed red.
Usually because my wandering hands doubt the keenness of their thorns.
Similar to how I doubt the sharpness of my love.
Red with passion, then with pain.
Still, beautiful.
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 1:37 AM UTC
Bringing to light genuine poetic gifts bestowed upon a peculiar genius; a macrocosmic telekinesis with heterogenetic keenness
Sagacious enlistee receiving tuition without a fee - earned a transcendental degree in a ceaseless state of commendable, chimerical reverie
A golden dispensary of wisdom dramatically uplifting humanity candidly; treasure full of esoteric mysteries transporting wondrous abundance through bundles of subject matters and earning a celestial masters.
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 11:39 AM UTC
It's the strangest
thing.
All my senses are
alive, ablaze with
ultra keenness.
My brain is
sweetly burned,
and my eyes are
on fire.
I can taste the
cotton candy clouds,
snd the cab that
I'm riding in smells
of coconut and
honeysuckle.
Those ravens have
mustaches like Poe,
and those raccoons
look just like
Bukowski.
I hear an Opera by
Wagner in the wind,
and my footsteps sound
like the very
pulse of life
Mar 21, 2023
Mar 21, 2023 at 8:47 AM UTC
The Easel and the Tripod
She created from paints his capturing was done through a camera lens from the towering canyons of
New York to the windswept desert their love and fame grew proportionately how large can love grow
When it has such backdrops and talents fused together the height and strength of New York’s
Skyscrapers to the vastness and richness of New Mexico’s desert that is missed by most but through the
Eyes of Georgia O Keefe the dead items took on a vibrancy and life and through her husband Alfred
Stieglitz she was revealed as artist and beloved only as a man giving full vent to his heart and the
Emotions that were found there oh heart shine through this prism of painting and photography the
Lucid the albescence of pretext with brush and pallet and the keenness of eye to see into the depths
Give expression then adjust it in a minor way then capture on glass plates the indescribable desire that
Lies hidden but is the center of emotions intent none so inclined will ever weary this well tells of
Never ending depths a stranger will ever only be able to scratch the surface because the power of love
Truly is mysterious beyond compare to look upon another release all restrictions give command to
Decrement the probe will find only the enlightened exquisite inner and outer collusions that occur
Briefly but are ever after defined by that moment the merging of two into one by common interest
You have crossed the unknown unchartered waters but in them are found the most accomplished life
That can ever be found an easel and a tripod is a silent witness and a grounding point that energy is
Released across the span of the earth and touches the Cosmos and will call infinity home love started
Of truth will never be extinguished by time or eternity so therefore go into your own gallery of the mind
Stand at the headwaters of bliss it is time to celebrate undying love
Feb 7, 2012
Feb 7, 2012 at 7:38 PM UTC
I gingerly place my hands on your silk back
as you climb aboard the
maypole
but is this right?
is this
True?
What is True?
why does my gentle heart flutter at the thought
of your
naked
Body
on top of mine?
Will you stop me?
will you help me save my honor?
I can only be so chivalrous
my steed can only gallop so many miles
Why does my wicked mind turn to the image
of you
with round—bare
eyes staring into mine
as our lips
Interlock
in a Loving embrace?
I wish—
I wish to walk side by side
with you
along the ocean shore
a beautiful bay steed for us both
I want that to be reality
Deep in my lifeforce
I only desire to defend you
with my mystical sword
for I have no desire to wield my organic sword
it has the power to betray and harm
as it did for Lancelot
Should the spirits take me
will you stop and assist me
in maintaining my honor?
if they take us both
shall we fall off the Edge of the World?
shall we approach the Gates of Oblivion
along the shores of Acheron and Styx?
Why must my mind and heart be
in constant warfare?
the Barbarians against the Gallant Knights.
whom shall win?
My knights are indeed heroic
but the base passions of the barbarians
give keenness to their axes and spears
And what about you milady?
will you stop yourself
knowing
my honor?
I pray that you will kiss me
and Love shall take
Us
along a pleasant path.
but - forgive me
I cannot
trust
you yet.
I long for the day when I can
Feel
Your hands
intertwined-in-mine-like-vines
as you smile into my eyes
not as a lover
but as a
Companion
Aug 22, 2010
Aug 22, 2010 at 5:25 PM UTC
Why should I entomb my hatchet
after so much toil in the honing?
After all its blade excels alls measures
for heft and keenness
and no finer tool can be had
to strike the ultimate blow -
except perhaps the one you're holding.
So here we stand my friend
ensnared by pride's inertia
with everything to lose
but one or another's demise
within our imminent grasp.
Then without a sign or preamble,
our eyes meet as if by chance
and in that unsought instant,
the shame of forgiveness
saps our strength and sinew.
Our weapons clang to the pavement.
Unless we're history's fools
we know it seldom ends this way.
How much must we sacrifice
before the worst we have been
can give up its sorry shade
to the best our souls demand?
Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 8:17 AM UTC
Someone called me a scorpion today
Scorpions are spirit animals representing determination
So thank you.
Someone called me a scorpion today
Scorpions don’t go into attack mode unprovoked
So thank you.
Someone called me a scorpion today
Scorpions have magical virtues of fortitude, grit, mental keenness and willpower
So thank you.
Someone called me a scorpion today
Go **** yourself.
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 12:19 PM UTC
They set out together a long time ago
there was a keenness to their gait
whatever was going to be thrown at them
they’d take in their stride and then leave to fate.
They made many new friends along the way
with hearts so stout and true
and some friends are with them still today
’cause they’re good people through and through.
Their journey took them far and wide
it has been one hell of a ride
there were hardships aplenty along the road
but they never left each other’s side.
And now they are here in the twilight years
the journey’s not over for them yet
the gait is less keen and they have their fears
but they've got plenty of mileage in them yet.
©Joe Wilson – Keep going…2014
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 7:57 PM UTC
Clay circles that allows
my hands to almost touch
ribbed startle of your
Soul in flight
That permits my breath
snake's tongue
to probe inside echoes
of a time you weren't so
sad and mocking
Wing tips brushing
floating face down
in keenness
of memory
I join lines running rivers
of peyote
stretch skin across a
stone sphinx
silently relive the
enigma
Please share the warm embrace of my new Poetry book:
108 Bhakti Kisses, The Ecstatic Poetry of a Modern Day Gopi
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Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 11:33 PM UTC
the noise /
absence of voice /
despondency in increments
/
i am
a lost potential /
born from a keenness
unrequited /
a torso of emotions
below an aching smile
/
the tarnished know
my story well
they dwell
in caves /
inside my thoughts
/
they left a bitter aftertaste
and then erased
the rest /
/
i atrophied /
/
my scraps
were not desired
Jan 20, 2018
Jan 20, 2018 at 6:19 AM UTC
Does time suddenly come to a stand still?
At certain times, time just feels like a concept
that has no meaning, even going backwards!
She parks her car and sashays out, as if she
has never been frustrated with her life!
Dressed in a boldly patterned dress, she waits.
She looks more like a fixture in nature, a sculpture
that stood so long in a public place, not adulated,
bearing beating sun, snow and rain, yet so fresh
as if newly made, pleasant in a way illusory
her marked chutzpah,evidently intact.
At the park gate he stands, in a past he is lost,
peering at her face from afar, with a keenness
that doesn't seem to be normal, he hesitates
time has turned it's wheel s much yet it seems
a stand still to him,"Would one learn from life?"
he mulls over as he invites a smile on his face
while walking over to meet her, the moment
of epiphany, he is sure and wants to cherish it for ever.
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 9:26 AM UTC
I feel the immediacy of things. The imminence of objects. I feel the keenness of a glass in my hands. The instantaneous dribble of condensation over a knuckle. The spontaneous aroma of a summer night. I am enthralled and enraptured by the crisp mint of toothpaste, after a barely slept night. I feel the rough twill of a garment and I am in love with it. I extend my hands into the rapid amber slats of the streetlamps on my dash, as I speed beneath them. I watch them wash over my hands and I feel somehow indescribable.
I am in love with beautiful women who pass me on the street. Every one them pretty. Every one of them a neat mystery. Every one of them in skin as lovely and soft as breath off the ocean. I know myself least when I kiss. I know myself best when I am kissed.
I feel myself in the world and I feel IT in me. I love my friends and my family. I love the rough smell of fire. I love the wisp of spring, grown into the verdant pulse of summer's heat. I love to sweat and feel the movement of my body through open space. I love the sharp itch of a tattooer's vibrant needle. The splay of colors. The tang of my blood.
I look at men and I see boys playing at what they think a man is supposed to be. I see excess, increase, and birth. I see leanness, erosion, and death. I somehow know that neither is life a beginning or death an ending. I know it as I know the tip of my finger. I know it as I know the taste of sweat and hairspray and sunscreen, distilled in the instant of a drunk kiss, in a tent just inside of Idaho.
I am for life. I am for pain as I am for pleasure. For I know that one is nothing without the either. I wish to be known and to say myself. I wish to know you and to hear yourself, said by, yourself. I am simply. I am a man. I am just what I am.
I may die tomorrow. I urge you to love those dear to you and to say it everyday. I only try to do that. I only try.
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 6:33 PM UTC
Denials fears receipts
Lies betrayals deceits
Expectations loss resentments
Perception destruction commitments
Adoration longing craving
Yielding accepting braving
Politics labor expense
Logic confusion dispense
Care concern keenness
New life new world seamless
Divinity concealment hate
Regret trust late
Forgiving losing retake
Patience understanding heartbreak
Dealing retracing abiding
Life God residing
Emotions thoughts dissent
Judgments wisdom repent
Memories traces slaughter
Heart soul fodder
Empathy retraction deafness
Body mind breathless
Oxygen air amiss
Blood veins remiss
Promises sensations overlook
Death sadness overtook
Redemption reprisal regret
Untreated unlearned unmet
Nov 12, 2010
Nov 12, 2010 at 7:27 AM UTC
musing on memory and all that
re its capabilities, its utilities
and wondrous
abilities, to cover, recover, and
surprise surprise uncover the known
and unknown, what was, what is and
what there is to dis-cover, for memory
is a tricky ole ******* you recall what you never knew at all, forget the address where you lived twenty years ago, and don’t get me
started re telephone numbers
of
old lovers, who get got gone good away
and the combination of a subset of their
digits is likely to be on a discarded lottery
stub, that stubs your shoe too
cannot remember all the women I’ve ever kissed, but I remember the kiss, and that’s
a fair trade off
pretty bad at remembering, birthdays, anniversaries, but that’s because my electronics believe me of this obligation;
Not the obligation to buy a present,
On time, but the kindness keenness of
doing the action, is you an in Nate satisfaction, One gets, when crossing off a line item on your to do list
Sometimes the choices between remembering,
and being dismembering, when is definitely preferable to the other, and though you are not present, I hear your moaning softly
I know I know!
So take a moment to make sure all those critical dates to others, are in your calendar, electronic, and I recommend minimum one week ahead alerts; and one day before as a fail, safe
Do it now or fail to be safe
Feb 11, 2025
Feb 11, 2025 at 3:13 PM UTC
your mouth is a beauty
whose word i long to pronounce
whose keenness is marigold in summer
whose almost too fragile a slit
makes the fragrance of desire
whose language is heavy and soft
and suddenly across
your face it slices
more pink than bubble gum
and more sweetly to taste
more sugared and awefull
more impossibly resisted
your mouth is too delicate a flowering
destroying sound
of which i long to pronounce
Feb 28, 2012
Feb 28, 2012 at 9:58 PM UTC
I begged,
On bent knee, my palm gently kissing her hand.
If I needed to smith a sword she was my searing heat.
If I needed to craft a ship she was my impenetrable weld.
If I needed to fly she was the wind beneath my wings.
I had never been able to do anything without her.
Once again I beseeched her to lend herself to me.
Her dark brown eyes probed mine in keenness
Discerning the nobility of my plea, if to heed
If I am to set sail amidst the flooding waves of life
I’d need her as my anchor
If I am to brave the fog and the winter cold
I’d need her to radiate against my skin
If I am to fashion a generation of impeccable humans
I’d need only her to be.
Once again I entreated her to lend herself to me.
Her eyes came out of my deeps, sparkling with satisfaction
And a curve of her lips preceded the calm in her answer
No
I give myself to you!
Jun 23, 2019
Jun 23, 2019 at 3:23 PM UTC
Drink over drugs
Was always my preference
Why? You say
Well drugs have a large price to pay
Drink may **** my liver
And make my conscience quiver
But it's about mastering your pace
With drugs it's a constant race
It taunts and teases
Pretending it pleases
How fast can you lose yourself?
How long can you keep reality on a shelf?
It leads you to a darkness
Hidden away deep in your mind
Something with thorns an loves forlorn
No it's not kind
Drink can ease my pain
In time of weakness
But drugs have a keenness
To devour you
So pour yourself a glass
Have a cry and a laugh
And bask in the rain
That your still sane.
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 5:23 PM UTC
the you the
that
the
totally
(which intensely does) Curve
upon curving
the twist of
some adamantine
hips collapsed
in one fatal crushing
of hushed nudeness Arrive
by mute girlness
of parting self
(where sleeps faultless
legions of boyness to kiss
with the waxing
of their paired moon
some wet keenness of bliss)
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 2:02 PM UTC