"lumens" poems
Wicked nether-land. Nether world, white, askance. Capitulating mangroves, verdant trees spliced with hyperbole, onomatopoeia, and manilla envelopes; her world is stuffed with secrets, she listens to gorillas cracking mussels a kilometer away, near a rill. Never she thought. Nothing that could provide....providence. Mangled heliographs sprayed all over the everywhereworld.
"Don't be S.A.F.E.," she whispered. A bouquet of gorse, cistus, and pimpernels squished in her small fingers. She climbed her way through the pedimented stairway, then collapsing on the porch. Legs spent, and spread out upon the desiccate grayed four by four planks of the portico.
And as time elapses, the shuttering shake of the hemlock, which writhes through her skinny nimble dactyls, upwards straining the heart as its toxic bends appendages- crisp cerise lumens bend on the Titanium White walls, where only shadows bend time. The hour, still nine. Every adornment, furnished with red and its hues. Not purple, periwinkle, or any masked enhancement.
These are the symbols that reticulate splines, that curve temperatures, perverse hemispheres and debunk worlds. Upped antes, verbs that terns flirt worth, birth words. Ooh. Aah. Camera. The forest wraps her in its verdant pasture, where at last the moribund tamarisks disperse.
While at the plateau she is quiet and longing. Arms astride, dangling. Vaunt with highs and bliss- a kiss of withstanding pleasure serves her the cure for a lifetime of whining. This, yesterday where her body rattled through crooked vines. Square ships toasting her vocal melancholy in the sweet-waters of Time. So that all of her ripened limbs could grow, no more sheepishly than the magic she knew as a child. Stress free. First among the Earth-words, verbed-up and made jealous by pronouns that encompassed her joy-brimming hide. Closing down her voice and hugging her from behind.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:44 AM UTC
Like old
mean beetles,
like old
men in battle,
like egos: solid anvils,
like families: lethal weapons,
like these: them,
begotten sons
who begat daughters
of a land, of a bordered plot
on the globe, the dirt,
the house, the property
which begot
them
both,
these two
bitter enemies
from two
separate places,
furiously blaze,
as the time
for darkness,
is far
from arrived.
And the sun
quakes,
in its heat
rippling sights
and
knocking particles,
which deter the next
knocked,
and which enforce
the continued sensation of
warmth
continued,
of aversion
continued,
rising,
screened,
for its impeccable quality,
against
nobody in
general or
specific
to announce, or to gain
against
consequences, which are
soothsaid
in time,
nullified.
Partners afflicted will be less opportunistic
and more egalitarian,
but are sworn,
like the sun,
against the monotony,
of repetition,
of indistinct days;
like these:
them,
the enemies,
they
are
engaged,
aged,
unteachable
and
spoiled.
They are always
immersed
in
vexed
states,
always in competition.
Hope
is
the
souls
united
never again
as much
as the static,
single dimension,
alone,
impeccable,
impossible,
for its possibility
is drawn by He
who
spews forth
lumens
next to card sharks and Amazons, knowing these
will have to suffice, having no escape
from the projected
source
of energy.
The metal heads
of garden rakes,
weapons
thrown
at devils
in the sweltering heat
of hell,
the Inferno
that holds a
first-person
point of view,
a dream, alongside
superheroes, allied,
but who are,
nevertheless,
without their unique
and exceptional powers,
pros and willing deviants
from the celibacy,
the weight,
the unoriginal paint
that collides
in
each
stroke,
making what
appears
null,
and the array
but one,
and supposed,
so that then
are the weary
and soulful mergers
which corrupt
and meander throughout,
polluting,
as
it
were,
the tranquility,
the wrenched service,
of the destined
machine,
of a million
trajectories,
homespun threads,
woven
into
a
million
miserable
microfibers,
unanswered
queries
that were
held back
in
fear,
and
were
never
asked,
and remain
even
now
sorry.
Jan 17, 2010
Jan 17, 2010 at 7:49 AM UTC
~
her tidal forces pull me in,
her halo soothes my soul within;
illuminating, ether's glow,
to my cheek her kisses blow;
lunar whispers draw me deep,
beckon softly, bid me sleep!
~
*post script.
tonight's moon, a waxing half, wears a halo full,
above a thin marine layer in my
Pacific Northwest sky.
difficult to photograph, yet so easy to love!*
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 1:50 AM UTC
Dark to dawn, dawn to light, piercing rays combat the night
Dipping moon drawing nigh, floating, trancing, tracing by
Yawning morning beckons still, willing sun against night’s chill
Clash of forces, voice of wills, call to victory ever still
Shades the night, lumens the day - tendrils and spirals to strip away
Entwined in struggle, surging forth, seeking the coruscating flow
Darkness snared, one final blow - finally ending the blight of night
Out of the darkness and into the light, conflict restored - enjoin the fight
Dawn to dusk which can we trust, both sides are found in all of us
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 11:55 AM UTC
As she breaks and burns,
Through this narrowing night,
Her ointment of prowess
Takes over the duty,
A fraction of lumens,
Yet just as bright
To those glaring eyes.
As she howls over this hill,
She echoes through trees,
Snapping twigs as she goes,
Turning us to stone,
As we stare
At medusa of the night.
May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 5:16 PM UTC
If gloom descends; Capsicum appends:
Removing dooms in plumes of red lumens.
Biological conversion from stagnation to movement.
Shaman, brother, lover, friend.
Bold holistic resolute.
Unequivocally coalesced in this; a magnificent fruit.
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 10:58 PM UTC
Love is truly not from thy heart
Love is yet static vibrations
From within minds electric creation
Through touch, vision, scent
Amps infinite lumens
Blinding thee
Illuminating you
Fluttering heart thumps
Coincides my Electric speech to your weak knees
THAT IS MIND
THIS IS LOVE
THAT IS WHY
Till the day my mind dies
My heart will never dull
Nor weaken
With your light beside me
Growing blindingly brighter
We become one light so bright
Leading us towards each other
So close it blinds us from any one person
To reveal two in one And one in two
Life with out you Is life with out love
Never stop...
The light in my soul.
Mar 1, 2010
Mar 1, 2010 at 8:14 PM UTC
****
The poison's me the choice is up to you. Good lord, if they take away all the fashion houses, the rain men won't have anything to wear.
Naked armies, fighting the stories that just someone's grandfather wrote. Is it even real if it goes to sleep at night? Does it wake up to address the evening sky? I don't know....three heroic words the human race can barely say. Isn't the want for pizza an international religion, can we agree on that?
What mind of man gets it in his head that it's his hand that receives death to choose? In what nowhereness did these lonely princes lose everything they knew? Did they hear that killing isn't cool like it was in the 11th Empire- to make light of a situation or just a few lumens too, is pretty rad for any human to do. I may be a vampire but I need a bit of daytime if I want to continue to worship the dark.
It's been 4000 years, and I'm still looking for her, the way she talked to us after the sea we crossed through. The poison is me but the choice to take it is up to you. The rain men may come, but the water dance's for a seldom few. We could starve just for the thrill of wrapping ourselves in pieces of the moon.
Ne me quitte pas. Ne pas passer la lumière. Je vous attends ici, tout comme je le fais toujours. Il est dommage, je suis passé par là avec vous attends.
Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 8:02 PM UTC
You are like a paisley sunrise -
A tapestry of gorgeous spirit.
Your sheets radiant with laughter
Are patchouli spiced dances
In the sweltered tunings of cooling dusk.
Now Eros' altars wafting incense;
Sepia backbones stir spectral sighs.
Poised for splendid primal reckonings
Back door brains melt lucid minds
For in fluidity we thrive.
Through eyeing eternity
the prophecy is absolved
By monastic deflection I
Gained what the animals saw
Gypsy moth set your passion in plaster
Metamorphosis looms wherein
Wings strive thereafter
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 1:29 AM UTC
I see the stars in you
They light similar to mine
We could ponder
Whose side awakened the day first
Else we could vanquish
The aeons of darkness between us
In a choir of lumens
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 11:05 PM UTC
You hate bare feet but there you are...
Some soft dress you would never wear
Yet it's flowing from the wind over your shoulders
Tucks under your legs like a child at play
Your arms bent against themselves
Insecure yet comfortable
An impossible smile
The sun reflects off every thing in view
Creating sparkles, twinkles, flashes
Your hand pulls back the hair
That got in front of your face
And at once there is no sun
Those eyes
Those eyes
I've followed their light from dark days
And I'm pleased to find them here
The cause of such lumens
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 12:26 AM UTC
From off the pores of pitch-black skin,
Floyd's soul saps aways,
Little by Little,
One last time
One last effort
One last fruitless plea
In tinny scraps of air
Pushed up from greying lumens
Sourly yields a quashed neck coldening ,
The sore man sighs the last of life,
The man with the loathed shade met his end
Jun 16, 2020
Jun 16, 2020 at 2:16 PM UTC
I
compare the space left
to radiance that blinds
look on and know just
how dark could a space
become
faith in eye grabs hard
at the residual lumens.
ghosts.
time stuck in a flash
of constellations
colliding
YOU
Oct 24, 2016
Oct 24, 2016 at 12:20 PM UTC
this is where our adventures begin to warm up, they burst diagonally, stretched seams. Opened wide, blistering under this caustic and virile heat. The epicenter of someone's bi-polar anomaly-
swarms of words and their words
people coming and parting,
coliseums and amphitheaters in spectacle
garnet, draped in praise
as upsetting and down-troche of what those blue sapphire lumens grew
against the pale and sinewy shadow of shape flickering,
violet cartoon faces bruising up their faces in the pulp and pulchritude
where two separate identities meet and coerce the familiar into seeing
at what it conceives. The diplopic opera and didactic vapidness in
the horrendous aperture of the inexhaustible and mercurial sport.
Then to see as the other half lives, compartmentalized in the
curious cabinetries of disorder
Oct 24, 2015
Oct 24, 2015 at 2:23 AM UTC
#the forming of substance 07
Stephan W
*Radiance.
Within the void are
the greatest mysteries of the universe,
as matter and anti-matter clash;
only to create a newfound energy..
un-owned, unaccountable, unconcerned--
the energy emerging from the clash negates itself
through mutual annihilation; leading to an increase
of space between what it is that is lit; and in
the accelerated rate of expansion of this space,
Illuminated/illuminating matter takes on the risk
of being removed from participatory perception,
or better said-- to a place beyond retrieve..
and so it is also-
within the void of space that exists within us;
the galaxy-within--
ever-swinging in polarity between the gravity-pull
of illuminating/illuminated substance,
and the ever-distancing properties of
an unowned, unlit space...
dark Energy-- a repulsive force,
attempting to quantify the space between
all that truly matters--
yes.. creating space,
and therefore more room
for it to engage into its ever-increasing
chaotic activity.. quantitatively participating in
its fine art of distraction, dilution
and extortion of time
through nothing other than the negation of matter,
and therefore, the negation of potentiality--
of substance, and so also
the transmission of light.. luminosity:
parts within the heart, lit up with
and by the infusion of our own spirits,
through the beautiful act of volition,
of which, the countless galaxies in the universe
exist as a type, given.. (what-if)...
if only to encourage us through amazing,
mesmerizing example--
surrounded, each.. by a circumference of support
of the dark matter of potentiality--
providing the gravity of containment,
solely in and through its belief in its own possibility,
giving way to its utter inability to deny itself to
what has become already lit,
becoming then.. not only a defining part of the galaxy,
but also a gravitational-formed hedge of protection
against the everpull-entropy of the repulsive force--
of all that is unaccountable-
in its velocity-based separation from volition.
And, so it is with the universe,
so, also.. the universe-within;
Having left its glass-globe sphere,
this spirit-centered cosmos
now unfolds, within skin.*
#
Oct 8, 2020
Oct 8, 2020 at 9:46 PM UTC
Pieces like scattered lumens
On black days,
Brighter than sunsets
Elongated on arched spines
Under the Saturday evening
Impression left upon
A lifetime......
Bits like kisses
On the nape where bodies
Trembled under passionate skies,
Under quarter moons
Luminous embrace
Where only life was made
By extracting the sweetest
Nectar of moments
Born in the constellation US.
Peice of me,
Peice of you,
Making life whole.
Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 1:39 AM UTC
Wretched, twisted, hacking and heaving
Swirling in lumens where darkness is left behind.
Unbidden cometh the sun and a new day to my door, even though they are both beautiful.
Wiping spittle from my lips and lifting myself away from the porcelain god that held me in such thrall, I go to greet said day.
But first, I reckon I'll go back to the origins of my ill-fated adventures, and make a different choice.
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 12:54 PM UTC
Glass eyes,
Fractures in the spheres.
Broken bliss inside you
I
We.
You move
You blink the night
Sun born
Sun dies
My light in youra
Darker than lumens
Touches me
Exploding the kiss....
Oness in the bliss
Nocturnes in the mist,
dew drops of intertwined
Blooddrops,
****** the softest touch
Rush of the broken
Feeding hunger
Flesh of lights
I sun drop
You compress
Luminosity
Laser focus.
Desolation together
A hymn in the sunrise
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 9:00 PM UTC
paved asphalt pass brimley and the 401 provincial highway
windows shy, hiding beneath mid door crevice
giving way for the combing wind
elvis's hairdue comes naturally at 120 km/hour
look in my rear view
her smile illuminates my world
radiates lumens past circuit driven tungsten (W)
corsets my heart into a reoriented rush of ecstatic cross spindled fibers
the joy of the bingo jackpot for the community center regular who plays their last card before going home
an "I 17" echoes through the air
but this card was misread, I 17 was a spot above the required
she was never in the backseat and she was doing us both a favor
just as the grocer who puts eggs at the top of the bag
her smile irradiated the room
her smile came straight from those high beams pleading for a head on collision
azides leaked though a break neck pillow
azides for my esophagus
leading to my sarcophagus
Aug 25, 2020
Aug 25, 2020 at 11:36 PM UTC
Graphite lovers
Embracing soil
Subterranean skies!
Heathen starlight
Breaking upon oceanic glares,
White top veils
Kissing blue atmospheres,
Embryonic moons
Where children sing sacred,
Womb of planets
Setting atomic borders
Upon infinite eyes:
Little lovers stranded
On Saturn's rings,
Elliptical orbit
Of the hopeless lumens,
A lonely flare meets
A comet's touch,
Gravity of the groumded mind
Wishing on dark stars,
Holy Lights
Flicker and die,
Matyrs of the Borders
Shattering ideals
And Earthen consciousness
Awakens to unify a buried grace.
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 9:17 PM UTC
Silent flattery's kiss,
Womb of lumens,
A touch of images
Thighs of dark stars...
Silver moon in a quarter dance,
Splice of lifetimes,
Back arches in the luminous
Glow,
Nebulous hair,
Forest of galaxies
In a game of light
Backdrops like Aztec hair,
Fluorescent serendipity,
The words choked
From the thousand times
We live and feed
Upon Andromeda's blink,
Surely to be alive
Is to die reborn among
The dreamscape of her arms.
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 11:14 PM UTC
what's it like to be loved
to be the first person infatuated with in the morning
to be caressed
to be kissed
to be sweatered in kisses and blessings
what's it like to be loved
to be nurtured
to be the illuminating brightness of someone's day
10000001 lumens for you
to be the initial current which spins the motor of life
what's it like to be loved
to be loved
to be cared for
to be admired
to be listened to
to be ....to just be
to be accepted
i know what it's like to be loved
but these days it seems like a dust covered, degrading artifact of a long forgotten civilization
i'm just waiting for my archaeologist to come brush and restore what once was
Jan 19, 2022
Jan 19, 2022 at 1:23 AM UTC
Sometimes, the jade air
Sometimes, the forest’s verdant breath
Sometimes, the moss pond
and the frog’s plonked exclamation.
Sometimes, the confused helix
of crossed branches, the sun’s
enduring eye, blinded here and there
by the cliff’s stern countenance.
Each of these can manifest
as the soul’s reflection,
For how else could it know
its own existence?
Only chance can help
the soul to find its way
through heaven’s web of lumens
and planets’ eternal orbits,
an endless procession
of hollow moments to be filled
by a sudden eclipse of expectation,
a quick downpour of regret,
a shadow of fear, a memory exhumed.
Yet the final rush
of enlightened immersion
is only a license to begin again.
Sep 17, 2019
Sep 17, 2019 at 4:50 AM UTC
Ray Of Life
Become aware if you dare, ways to relax hard to grasp, our focus dependent on refraction
Hopes and dreams varied schemes with endless themes, subtle glint shows a hint, without blinders we can see, hear and feel more of what is around
Does time expand our wisdom? Will an illuminated clock help time flow smoother? futures blocked not by blackness but not seeing our own passion
All the games we are forced to play winners or losers need reasons to stay, often is not chess but another round of lost and found
Happenings of today remain, time does not erase pain, what is frightening becomes enlightening, soft glow increases internal flow open minds eye makes a good day easier to imagine
Asking for hope to an unknown entity is seen by some as a level of sanity, reaching out never simple, goes against a basic principle, finding comfort easier if wrapped in a shroud
Keeping perspective in scope begins from a slippery slope, individually we have tunnel vision, easier for others to review their brothers when they don't have to live with the outcome
Do we know where to go if always traveling in the dark, bits of light need not be bright to show which way to go, clear path easier when we know what to do without
Changing Objective, perspective, molding our views from biased world news, want realism when shown phantasm seeking the most viewing a ghost, hard to decipher a zephyr without a touchstone
Magnifying glass with one sun ray can bring enough heat to burn down the earth, surrounded in constant beams ever changing themes, harder views if always under a cloud
Walking blindly often regressive finding power from failure is progressive, internal guidance eases our blindness, will we recognize each streak after it has shone
Picture of pleasantries easier to view if a few more lumens are used, each wave length gives mental or physical strength, just takes a little sunlight to help new ideas sprout and remove some doubt R.C.
May 14, 2021
May 14, 2021 at 10:22 AM UTC
As she moves to the rhythm of my pulsating rays
Playfully teasing under my gaze
Intoxicating hills, mountains, ripples and waves
Covered by 3/4 ths overlays
The mental visual plays.
Finger lumens caress and rove
Flick and probe
tickle and pinch
Patiently exploring every square inch.
A galactic minx
Bringing me to brinks
Prospecting her nectar for energy drinks
Spin at a terrific speed changeable and swift indeed
her winds will cut in a storm
Yet the right currents keep her warm
Spinning in orbit at 93 still in full form
To know the cipher and understand the God
ahm smiling at her curves.
**** it’s hard
could shatter light into shards
Transforming crystals to stars
must dip in her dew
It’s mountin’ and this fountain
bout to spit atomic stew
nucleatin’ and hydratin’
keepin up with her gyratin’
vibratin’, shakin’ and quakin’
Osiris’ rod cleavin’ into her sod
spewin’ ray seed in clods
a spectrum of dust
It’s a must to keep her satient with love, no lust…
– Haakim Understanding
Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC