"levitated" poems
The write was written
red ice
twice bitten
his soul a black clot
a faucet for a neck
she fell in a crepuscular fold
odor of tincture fuckubus
red mouth
a snarling kiss
a hot hiss chariot
a black bite
her womb spread wide
for a tongue that didn't end
nail polished *******
like torn cherries
soft gauze tourniquet
a slow yield
milk petals and rivulets
a ghastly confection
leaning over like a spilled ***
her gullet a metropolis of jewels
forced throat bound
on a black cross
she sailed on a magic carpet
like a vampires fizz cocktail
a red ice float
of starvation
his mind a dead sky
a pageant of coiled clouds
he held her down
she levitated
they were in love
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 4:29 PM UTC
There flows an invisible, river of subtle emotions he felt,
separating the immediate reality and the realm of art;
gazing the reclining nude,with a pair of eyes conjured,
he levitated to the other bank of reality as if by magic,
while she waited and waited,somewhat perplexed,
then her eyes intervened, made him cross over so fast.
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 2:49 PM UTC
For the one
Who makes me melt,
Makes me feel warm,
And always makes me smile…
I kiss you with moist lips
They stick to yours
Like poetry on a melody, perfect fit
My heart opens up like unlocked doors
My thoughts float about
Worries all out of reach
No space for fears and doubt
As our spirits surrender to a kiss each
My shoulders feel sedated
My arms feel light
My winged feet have me levitated
As we share this one kiss tonight
Me holding you, you holding me
A grip so assuring you’ll never let go
Not a tornado or storm at sea
Could stand in the way of our love flow
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 9:59 AM UTC
Heaven whispered your name,
Lavender silk
Smooth upon lips,
****** to the flavour of destiny.......
Your tongue passed through mirages,
Tasting the warmth of my soul, like
Unexpected breaths washing upon
The shores of thirst;
Your white smile irising the sky...
I held my breath
...for, I needed to relish yours
Deeper than my sighs,
Into the depths of ache;
The pause in my heartbeat, lay tenderly
Balanced on the edge of your soul...
I dreamed the night's mist,
An omen of silken-soft, upon velvet petals,
An immaculate flower,
Conceived in the poetry of this delicate awakening;
The sweet intimacy
Pressed into the dark of my heart...
Your voice, became the
Hands that stripped me bare,
Wrapping around my essence like a myriad of
Forbidden elixir's, from fountains beyond the
Flinch of fingertips that
Traced the pulse of my thighs...
And your lips fell upon my body
In creases...
...those secret places...where
You arced the light of me,
A coruscation of eyes, beyond burn,
Changing darkness to blossom incandescence...
My pelvis, captured moistened moments
Quivering
Beneath the power of your descent;
Where I held you hostage
Upon this pillow of my heartbeat,
Levitated in the hush of your breath...
You painted me beautiful, in moonlight
With the brush of your lips, and
I needed you,
Needed you...
Alas...only the
Soft of shadows remain,
To light disrobed hours, where
Perfumed winds whisper
Precious echoes of your words;
Tracing the patient hues of roses, that will always dream
To sway in the twilight of your arms........
Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 3:46 PM UTC
1)
my wife came out of the shower
last month
still unwashed and dry as a bone
You’ve forgotten, she snarled, *haven’t you,
to pay the water bill?*
Ooops! I’d done it again!
2)
last Monday
she came waving her hairdryer at me
and she screamed;
*You’ve forgotten, haven’t you -
to pay the power bill?*
Ooops! I’d done it again!
3)
last winter
she was trembling
and she said, shivering:
*You’ve forgotten
to pay the bill for the gas heating ,
haven’t you?*
Ooops! I’d done it again!
4)
and yesterday
when I returned home from work
I found everything in the house floating -
the chairs and the sofa
and the oven and the dog
and my wife too, upside down
up there in mid air
And she hollered:
*You’ve forgotten, haven’t you
to pay the gravity bill?*
And she reached out for my neck
as I levitated too
*Help! Somebody
Help! Anybody
Help us get back
down to earth!*
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 3:16 AM UTC
Sometimes
I'm feeling like...
I need'a
Speed up.
Move fast.
As the Green light turns Red.
Pedal to metal.
I am off in a flash.
Foot on lock.
Won't ease up.
Drift off.
Drift late.
Just wait.
Skidding with thunder.
As the Red Accord rubber wheels bleed
We recede in aero
Fall off
Into the off ramps bridge
Onto
The freeways
Incoming traffic
Levitated, watching myself
Crashing
Going numb.
No longer masking.
My actions.
my actions.
cause they are there to see
From the bridge
Lights flashing
Honking, speeding
passing
Cannot flee.
Hitting elements.
Fire, cement, gust of mighty winds
glass, clashing.
With a subtle gentle breeze
I am there
I stare
I am surrounded by the abyss
Our life
They are there
O' so aware
We conversating without words
Bliss
Awaken
We all are bare
Naked
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 5:21 PM UTC
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, expressing old emotions and letting them go later when you are better----makes you feel so powerful and proud of the place you are now in:]
She changed for a shady robe coating her scars
She passed across mirrors abandoning her fury
She levitated on an ocean of despise
and let the sorrow sink her in the deep
She cringed from the pity and hid under her veil
She heard the loudness of silence and companied the loneliness
------ravenfeels
Apr 2, 2021
Apr 2, 2021 at 5:44 PM UTC
Meditation is freedom
it releases peace in agony
and portrays a levitated spirit.
Meditation is a way of restoration
in reminscement of God’s perfect nature
and portrays the redemption of a soul.
Meditation contains inhalation and exhalation
elevate your spirit by inhalin’ positivity
and release your soul by exhalin’ negativity.
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 3:46 PM UTC
There's a point when it all becomes okay,
a sense of divine clarity,
when you know for certain that no one wins,
the rules are always bent,
the good ones get away,
and summer is always spent.
There's a sound finer than your favorite music,
a voice begging for your safekeeping,
when you know for certain that at least one person,
for one spell, wants yourself, your health,
the gifts turn old,
beauty levitated by introspective wealth.
There's always a trail, there's always four walls, never an escape,
a broken heart crying for your broken neck,
when compliments wash ashore against a sea of catastrophe,
their hate proves your worth, your weight, your sting,
a perpetual feast of old, distasteful words,
your frightened mouth fired in haste.
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 11:51 AM UTC
I stand on the edge of a cliff up high in
The Heavens, surrounded by thick, gray
Clouds, and I’m blinded by the dense fog.
I feel myself being levitated higher into the
Heavens and thrown by an Evil Force, and I
Tumble through the endless darkness and
I land on a boat braving the tides of indecisions
And fear of the past, present, and future, and
I am tossed violently by the hopes, dreams,
And expectations. I paddle deeper into the
Endless ocean with neither an oar nor a sail
And the tides pulls me under and I gasp for
Breathe as I struggle to keep my head above
The water. I become more overwhelmed with
Every crashing wave and my boat fades away
Into the horizon and the fog grows thicker
Until I’m entirely blinded by all the “what ifs”
And the “maybes”, and suffocated by all that
“Could’ve”, “should’ve”, and “would’ve”.
I wait for a light to break through the dense
Fog, calm the tides, and to carry me back to
Where it all began. I pray to whoever will
Listen so I can be saved from this endless
Storm. With every tick and tock of the clock,
I grow more anxious and I begin to sweat.
I wonder if this is reality or if I am dreaming so
I open my eyes and I’m free falling through
The endless funnel of ominous, gray clouds
And my eyes grow bigger as I realize that this
Is not a dream but rather a nightmare that
I cannot escape not matter how hard I try.
It’s a monstrous, endless nightmare that
Has taken control of my mind and my life
And the worst part is: it’s all in my mind.
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 5:03 PM UTC
The breeze is forceful, but not stiff,
it is the tropical storm's long lasting,
Arthur's lingering kiss goodbye,
(like the ones taken and given at airports and train stations,
volatile, wild passionate)
the breeze is anything but stiff,
it flexes, gusts, whipping sleeves,
coffee coolant excellent
the waves are rollicking,
revealing their white underwear,
but wise sailors say no thanks,
the bay pure, no vessels surface contaminant this morning
the sun apologizes for its yesterday absence,
claiming the aquifer cried out very thirsty,
so it took July Fourth off,
but now the water table rising,
the sand colored soil dark, rich, wet,
the grass cleaner, greener,
but the lawn, branch littered,
the wounded of the weather wars
the sun, a bit embarrased by his absence,
waits patiently for that odd fellow
by that dock, in that chair solitary,
to do his best poetic explanation well enough,
so that all summer rainy days will be
past and future forgiven
and the odd fellow taps and tends
to the living crowd surrounding him once again,
recalling he once wrote of leaves frothy waving
like cappuccino foam, and was that not
years ago and how could that be?
though the atmosphere is modest agitated,
the poets heart now, leavened and levitated,
for rain must have its due day,
purposeful, somber, serious, endless repeating,
(some say cleansing, but not he)
laughing at himself,
outdoors he writes
differently,
lighter than air, crafting careful
a single sonnet of suntan lotion odors,
and natural songs of bass drums in ear thrum,
and one thought alone,
criss crosses repeatedly,
yes, that one,
"wish you were here"
and he goes inside to get fresh coffee,
greet the woman sweaty fresh from yoga.
she delayed, the ferry captains paying obeisance
to the self same breeze,
but the seagull observer,
stands in place of the odd fellow's guard and watch,
during his temporary absence,
bulkhead posted, cawing in his stead and on his stand,
in seagullese,
which the poet speaks oh so well,
mantra chanting the poets
and the breeze's refrain too,
wish you were here
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 10:39 AM UTC
Footsteps that were past tense echoing
upon me like thunder, then the lightning
fell upon my vision and it went murky
in sight. I was within an eclipse of darkness.
Hands clapping on my thoughts urging
me to arise from this ill-gotten slumber.
I was tied as if to be burnt on the stake
of old, raised on feet I gazed in confusion.
A rope levitated my throat to upper reaches
just enough for breath but I gazed on a
room of discord. All was as if anger had taken
form and expelled itself on the surroundings.
With muttered echoes I spoke, "is anyone there,
But my words fell like dead leafs from autumns
cold voice. I waited upon the mirrors reflection
bouncing back at me of incoherent thoughts.
"Hello Peter, how are we today,
Confusion was my playmate as I considered my
reaction to this voice of my solitude. I recounted
the many repetitions of who I had angered in
my life. And on me I struggled under there weight.
"There was a little called Alice her hair like sand,
"She was the apple in the eyes sweet and beautiful,
"And you took that all away, away from all she loved,
Karma had stewed for so long I could smell it on my
conscience, and I knew that my end was but echoes
of memories away. "I know who you are, technicalities
were my weapon of choosing to those ill fated in meeting.
She was one such one, and there were a few before her.
But I retired from that form of endorphin rush. I became
placid like the lonely tormented sheep around me.
"I'm was a good little boy, no need to take this further,
But like a sphere once you take that first step you'll
end up at the beginning once again. I saw myself in
this dilemma, not as in this scene but others playing out.
And within those few thoughts I felt what was karma.
As I felt so warm at peace with this action, but then the
reality swept those lingering dreams away. I was dying,
A replay of what perspired in past memories but not her
me in that place. "Karma always finds you,
They were his last words, I don't know which father
brother friend they were. But now they had felt the
lingering sensation of expelling life. Would they
keep it secluded or would they become lik.............................
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 6:03 PM UTC
I wondered into garden of blossomed blue flowers today,
morning glory and forget me not,
sprinkled with dew and swaying always so slight,
tethered but not, bowing but not.
Soft as the shy maiden within' a dream,
levitated blue bell with faces within a face,
always so grounded but eye on sight for heavens,
dreaming of tumbleweeds but rooted to her spot.
The rain from last night has taken away her strength,
but she knows her best to make the raindrops shine,
stubborn to keep her place in mid air,
she still glides and dances amidst her faith's plot.
Never so lavished as reds and pinks of roses,
never so dark but never so soft,
never so layered, just holding few petals to her sleeves,
ever refusing to let them.. ever leave her heart.
There she sits, my bluebell, on the mercy of changing winds,
there she hangs in balance, between fragility and strength,
there she is again, nudging me on while I stayed,
inviting me to admire her but asking not be plucked.
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 8:57 AM UTC
What is life?
Life is
The magical moments
That keeps your heart levitated,
That keeps you on your toes,
That fills you up with warmth,
Filled with loving moments,
That you can’t get enough of,
And wish that it stays.
But,
Life doesn’t give you what you want,
No matter how many pennies you throw into the fountain.
What is life?
Life is
The dark moments
The ones where you cry when something doesn’t go your way,
The ones where you must carry an umbrella and wear all black,
The ones where you feel like S***;
These ones are when you feel hopeless
No matter how many times you fall,
And don’t feel like you should get back up.
Everyone’s day feels like one of these.
Wake up and find out: Are you having a magical or a dark day?
But the worst of all, are the ones where it is magical then it slowly turns dark;
Where you think everything is in your favor,
And you are about to show the world that they should not mess with you
Then a text or a tweet comes in
And everyone turns their back to you.
May 19, 2020
May 19, 2020 at 7:18 PM UTC
An ant once stopped and looked into the sky
Watched some butterflies and wished to fly
To look upon creatures from high above
And move unbounded just like a dove.
The sad ant sat there, cried and cried
"My body is heavy and my legs are tied.
If only I became like those butterflies,
I'd never touch this earth, never leave the skies.
Just look how pretty their wings are
Sparkling under sunshine, seen from afar.
Then I shall cut my legs except for two
my self-made wings to my body I'll sew
I'll flap and flap till my dream comes true,
I'll surf the gusts and be reborn anew."
The fellow ants gazed as their friend levitated
At how good were the wings that she created.
She spread them wide and danced in dew,
Lived her dream the ant that flew.
But one look at the butterflies saddened her again.
They were always higher, knowing that when
The wind stopped blowing and the poor ant fell
Lost her fake wings and plunged into a well.
"I'll never be a butterfly" she cried, "I can't.
How could I ever be when I am just an ant."
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 8:43 AM UTC
I just want you to know
Though you're ready to let go
In heart, I'll stick by your side
One hundred percent of the time
Through your happiness and suffering
Levitated high up in the air
Or dwelling darkness in dispair
I will always care
I will always be right there
I may seem like a creep
I may seem like a bother
But I just want you safe
Like the love of a father
Protects the lost and wandering daughter
So remember me..
When you no longer, recognize my face
When I'm nowhere to be traced
When I become a faze..
Remember me
Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 9:41 PM UTC
I am bored,
*
All that passed,
Did not leave even a scratch,
I was sure it will fade away, the illusion i was watching.
*
It was fruitfull that I kept swinging my hands in air,
I finally could stretch them through the mirror,
and there I grabbed the neck of reflection,
It died instantly.
*
Lust that was all apple-ish, levitated me,
I could catch all the speedy breaths,
Night was near to dawn,
and dawn was apple-ish,
and apple-ish was the lust, which levitated me.
*
That ****** craw made me mad,
I threw everything at it,
****** slipped away.
*
I am good at counting,
stars are falling one by one,
I will soon reach to 22.
*
And yes I am bored.
Mar 18, 2012
Mar 18, 2012 at 7:27 PM UTC
*talking to ritchie (a scaffolder on the Whitechapel project of the cross-rail) and his girlfriend nicholle, the smurf who i told about gargamel... while almost begged the sri lankans to buy a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of diet pepsi, past the allowance for the shop's opening hours and catching the last bus from chasing the cross... me and ritchie got talking randomly... hugged and shook hands by the end of the encounter, i don't know why; ritchie was a scaffolder... i told him i was once a roofer... i don't know why i have a healthy affiliation with scaffolders;
nicholle the chihuahua walking in front of us reminded us of drug testing on the building site, i said a day off, she said a day without pay and randomised crap like curtains... now i remember why i didn't join the crew with girlfriends, i'd be in a mental asylum by now, should they exist, otherwise with the failure of community care projects... maybe that's why women look amazing in ***** but cats look better in real life; i'm not even trying to be sexist, it's just too much reality.*
i have only a few words
for her:
why won't she touch me?
why am i to resolve
my objections like this,
ah, i see, because they are
objections to that
subjections that are of man
succumbing to woman
and the ordeal of chore;
that are, man objectifies woman
with all that ***********
while woman makes countless
subjects from him to appease her,
while the world around sees no
appeasement...
indeed in the crusader's song to
later show, as a psychosis
(elevation of soul via the body's
non-existence, a funny atheism)
i'll show you a levitated stone,
that doesn't require stones or loafs of
bread for proof of alchemy;
cup my hands in tears to capture
tears like rainwater...
make my eyes a convent....
i say a convent not a covenant!
da pacem domine -
and i see the mother nuns ushering the flock
into carcass of obedience,
a volume of body as tall as the pyramids;
why are we the defending?
what pleading would craft an altar
if not to compare
idle prayer crafted as a larger spectacle
to allow marriage in its eyes
permitted...
when i'm the sparrow of sorrow
i sound like my mother, because of you,
it's what i see that's to come
that makes me disbelieve the magic of
the advert, and embrace the advent of the saints
in petulant prayer.
Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 7:16 PM UTC
Would you reply
if I
say "hi..."?
On this day,
which just happened to be
--Valentine's day...
No, I don't want to say the greeting,
or to ask you to roll in the occassion...
Or to make the event a play,
plotting you into my ploy,
Dear me, no... never that daunting...
never to lead you on...
I just...
have been missing you...
like sedated...
afloat mid-air, --levitated...!
Ever since I met you,
yes, that meaningless banter,
you stole my heart and I want it back,
so that I can give it to someone new,
...
or else you'll keep me forever,
in this aimless,
foolish...
insatiable, endless,
thoughts of you...
Been thinking of you...
It just happened to be
this Valentine's Day...
--...
Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 2:31 PM UTC
Staring at endemic
This aráneam friend; crossing-
Few limbs attempting.
Spindle weaving spigots; as-
He levitated eighteen--
Appendages, bewildering
Dainty beauty.
It was his connection--
To sound that; perplexed.
Me-as-the-human.
Watching, watchers, tick.
Patiently pretending my dear-
Arthropod; that scares.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 6:50 PM UTC
Alchemy beckons
I once saw him scribing pollen on bat's wings.
having long strolled the flattened earth
to capture mischiefs wonder,
wading through patented spell books
he obsessed on Death Cap Mushrooms as a panacea.
Once he levitated a Friesian
for no greater nocturnal purpose
than to mock the knowing Moon.
I had long sensed it was in his power to grief
stranger's dreams
but his ensconce was that of an Artist
rather than the Master of Misrule.
Oct 30, 2012
Oct 30, 2012 at 4:11 PM UTC
A fat pigeon
Sat on my chest; solid and smug.
It's feathers grey and stunted
No flights of fancy here
It's beak sharp,peck-pecking,peck- pecking on the same spot.
It's glassy little eyes, beady and peering, short sighted and looking only down.
It's scrawny little legs scratching, stiffly stepping forward, no veering
But in a predestined groove.
It constricted my breathing
And the air that fuelled me was dark and dank.
I stalled and stuttered
And all roads led uphill through rain soaked mill towns struggling on the edges of
Barren moorland.
And then the pigeon left-
Just lifted its fat, grey body
Like a spacecraft in vertical flight
And my chest expanded
And my lungs filled with sweet air and my trapped self left the confines of my rib cage
And levitated
Into a clean and white and airy space
With windows flung full wide
And blue sky and breeze and a seagull calling
And a new day beginning.
Jul 16, 2016
Jul 16, 2016 at 1:48 PM UTC
The blackened eyes of the distressed mare bulge from her cranial vortex, as she gallops through the darkened labyrinths of hades.
If you can cast your mind back like a fish on the end of a rod, to those earth-shattering moments where the sensitivity of our taste buds in earlier childhood echoed across urban geographical contours.
Are you able to recollect the quality of those apostolic and culinary delights which were not divorced from the prints of contemporary issues which lay bare their scars upon our very hands?
It was all about the roll.
Yet, we have levitated and projected along secure boundaries where our silver chord has never failed us.
The sound of diesel locomotives are relatively hypnotic. Therefore, permit us to swear oaths upon this Celtic altar where the annals of history depict their runes upon the precipice of haunted equestrianism in "the back".
The beat of North America is mundane and predictable.
When we piece it altogether, we have a beautiful array of anthropological tragedy, with a subservient twang...if that makes any sense?
Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 1:42 AM UTC
I walked familiar pathways,
felt my shoulders--pressed embraced.
My feet, they moved so quick,
I levitated.
All along my lower spine surges of traffic came --
particles, waves of sunlight,
from the center of the earth.
HI ** my trillions of cells exclaimed,
stretching borders of their community kingdoms.
This is all of why I am simply here, I think:
to stop, to listen, to give receive.
Call it love.
How is it that such magic happens?
O, bless this place at year's ending.
Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 8:54 PM UTC