"lurker" poems
I live inside myself
my own little world
I read my own books
and poetry
and listen to my own music
sure, I absorb others material
as much as I can
but I am only a lurker
looking over the Earth
silently
from my dark little island
gazing over seas
both digital and real
wondering how the others do it
Are they just good at pretending?
Are they really not as insincere
as they all appear?
These feelings, or lack thereof
are thrown up like smoke signals
from the fire inside me
hoping another
might see or hear
with eyes, ears, heart, soul and mind
that are almost mine
to rescue me
from this strange illusion
of my own creation
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 5:32 PM UTC
You are my morning dew,
the sunrise and the sunset,
the tides of a calm ocean,
the hidden rainforest.
You are calm, cool, collected.
the light and hope and the warmth,
the twists of a peaceful nature,
the mysterious lurker.
You are nature in all senses,
and all my senses need thy nature.
Your touch is the tingle on my skin,
Your kiss, a roller-coaster ride on my lips.
Your actions, a witness for my eyes;
and your scent, shampoo to my nose.
Your voice, music to my ears.
And your nonexistence, threat to my tears.
You are my beautiful painting — oil on canvas,
my completing soul mate — stamps on letters,
my taste to life — sugar to coffee,
and my drug — alcohol to liquor.
You are one with nature,
and my nature is not complete without you.
You are more than my morning dew,
that surpasses all sunrise or sunsets,
more than the tides or corals of the sea,
more than the cleavage of an unknown rainforest.
You are, my soul mate.
A mate to my nature,
A mate to my soul,
lacking one would lead me,
inevitable depths of darkness,
a deep pitiful hole.
Jul 17, 2012
Jul 17, 2012 at 11:15 PM UTC
This constant presence of you.
It's been a year or more.
You've seen the ugly bits,
The confused frayed edges.
All my lies and hedges,
a time to sit and ponder
On whispers of who I am to people.
Your sweet **** my sweet heart.
That old whickering tremble
How did I get this lucky?
Bundled up in sweet cliches
Characters of my inner dialogue come to life
May I return to being an individual?
Once I find where I buried my Trust.
All the games and masks?
To conduct a minefield exposition.
My thoughts are so clean and linear
with you, I'm afraid you're synthetic.
A dog bites, it's tail
No one loves a lurker.
There'll come a time
when you'll have to stop hiding,
lay down your mask,
and come face me.
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 7:37 AM UTC
You are a curious fleshy navigator
Explorer of mind and world
You are a synapse searcher
A hemisphere lurker
You are a voiceless idea
An unopened potion
You are beautifully blurry
An ambiguously cryptic existence
You reach my extremities
A nice warm flow
You burst from my body
The only existence I know
Feb 14, 2013
Feb 14, 2013 at 5:37 PM UTC
*Spawn from the darkness
with venomous tongue,
spewing mystery, enchantment, delight.
Lurker of shadows
destroyer of dreams,
coward weaving your lies in the night.
A desolate heart
a lost, wounded soul,
your dark radar sensing new prey.
Debauched voice crying out
come to me, i'll set you free,
another soul murdered this day.
Coward of the shadows
cloaked in deceit,
always outside of their sight.
Honesty torments you
truth your opposer,
your demise awaits in the light.*
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 6:13 AM UTC
what's wrong with wanting to be in love?
I want to fall in love -is that such a bad thing?
we've been told that one does not fall in love ever when they are looking for it; but who decides that? who says that I can't find love?
is love suddenly not going to be love anymore because I was looking for him? what if we were looking for each-other? love can not be forged -the act of love can be, but love itself, cannot.
why can't I search for love? why do I have to wait for him to find me, or pop up out of the blue? Why can't I look down the path and scream, 'Love, I am coming for you. You're what I want and I will search everywhere until I find you.' Why does love have to be some mysterious lurker? why can't I notice love as a gust of wind before he becomes the full blown tornado?
Whats wrong with looking at someone you admire and thinking, 'hey, I think maybe I could fall in love with you' and actually, truly, believing so? You can't forge a feeling -so why not look for the spark? If it's there it's there, if it's not, it won't be.
So ***** all who tell me to stop looking for love,
because when I find him I'll be able to say,
'thank god I finally found you,
I've been searching for you my whole life.'
NJ2016
Nov 14, 2016
Nov 14, 2016 at 12:01 AM UTC
Pardon me in my own symphony of madness
A tool of my own sadness, oh boy what a feeling that is
It’s not poor nor is it **** so I suggest you sit right back and enjoy
For humorous attempts are only to take joy, creating pure fun
So here I got the run of the bun, Yeah it surely is nice to live
Lessons of the positive, dropping on the mind like intellect
I hear ye, dearly elect….Without any rhyme or reason
The one who may create the least treason…Holding onto your seats
Cashing in on all your receipts, Tickets of winning numbers
No longer living by the warm timbers, Refreshing to say the least
Some may call it very beast…Of me to rummage through moods
Many have given their perfect attitudes, Learn then let live…Breathe
A jewel encrusted knife kept within its sheathe, I promise you’ll never go cold
The tale can be told, in many ways
Spread out over many days, although why tend to boredom
Leading us not into whoredom, deliver us our daily bread
Thy concrete kingdom come along with street cred, as heaven’s mouth is open
At last it becomes very Zen, Living to learn
Rights under a government mule are hard to earn, no sense taking them for granted
Always being doubted, keeping a watchful eye
The lurker leans toward using the skills of a spy
Soon our story will be drawn to an end
Appending my wrongs as my rights come to a bend
Rendering my sins under microscopes as they unbend
Entering the light, being dunked in pools as I ascend
Apr 19, 2010
Apr 19, 2010 at 4:44 AM UTC
Work rider wait the storm
comfort finder play the norm
break labor earn your pay
take pressure stagnant stay
dig in worker riches find
deep lurker work the mine
for others reap a sweet reward
vaults that keep and treasures hoard
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 10:16 PM UTC
I offer my eternal homage
To the conflagration of spheres and jaws
For too long you’ve been sealed from my realm
By fear and by ancient laws
-
With this offering of flawless life
I grant you passage into my plane
Let this earthly shell be your tool
I give my blood, my soul, and my brain
-
Oh, great lurker at the threshold
Let your will be known
So omnipresent, so perfect, all knowing
May all power be yours to hone
-
The all-in-one shall again return
To bleed the universe dry
With the knowledge of the rift intact
Your feeble race and all others will die
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 12:23 PM UTC
She draws your eyes at first when you look/
Her soft hair falls like water drawn by electricity.
In the corner spines try and strangle books.
Or some sort of bone- might not be a spine.
But they are forcing them shut. Such crooks.
Creeping in the corner of the warmer side of the room
Is a man who stares like he longs to be her groom.
I assume he’s the focus that your not supposed to notice.
“Don’t try and draw meaning! It’s useless to do so”,
Cries the voice in my head as I try and make my thoughts slow.
I shall just gaze emptily. Theres plenty to please
my eyes without meaning rotting my brain like disease.
But theres need to unravel why he glares at her crimson.
Why crimson? Why Crimson? I have to listen.
“ Perhaps his face is the blood that runs through us.
A symbol of lust? Love? Or Mistrust. Lets discuss”/
I must shut this noise at once. Enough.
I can’t start tying this to myself or my own health.
Ignore what is felt, focus on the symbols with context.
Think of what is in front of you not what might be next.
“ But whats next messed before. ******* it right up.
The man had been hexed in folk tale made up!
She stole the symbol and painted him to creep up.”
Regardless, Lets part with these thoughts and just focus.
Theres locust that leap beneath her feet we didn’t notice.
Now Locusts can be hopeless but also denote somewhat biblically.
Perhaps this plague lurking is his misery? Represented Physically
“ By a woman on a hill painted with locust covered feet.
A crimson man behind her sat creeping perched on a seat.
In the corner theres a pile of books with titles you can’t read.
And spines try and choke them but instead they somehow feed."
And all this by a woman who I know could not see me.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 4:43 PM UTC
These poets online
My friends list, you old rascal
You're sure looking fine
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 12:11 AM UTC
Lurker of the shadows,
Beholder of the truth,
Would you still come to the tree
That bears no fruit?
Such curious wood
Such a semblance of weakness
However I still approach
As I am no beholder, but I a
seeker
Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 8:57 AM UTC
Halloween horror grips the soul
that tries to flee the demon witch;
it's a trap set by a gargoyle droll
who's a lurker that digs the ditch
to hold the corpse of a black raven,
slashed by Frankenstein's wife.
It was a delicacy she'd been cravin'
'fore Mr. F. faced uncertain strife.
The spell was broken at midnight,
not 'fore blood colored moonlight.
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 2:19 AM UTC
Every rose has its thorn
Every child has been born
Every cars got a horn
and Everyone's gotta mourn
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
and while I sit here just growing older
I want to be just a bit bolder
all I want to do each day is hold her
I need to stay focused on the future
Not on making some lurker
Not on making a blooper
I just wish it would please come sooner
Will you be in it?
I'll do what the Lord see's fit.
I've found my home run hit
I won't regret one bit
The weight of the world
on my chest as I watch it swirl
makes me spin, makes me twirl
I hope that it won't make me hurl
The pain of the past
it just seems to last
please heal like a cast
please make it come fast
Then again I'm doing this right
I need to make this my last fight
You're helping to make my life bright
I don't want you out of my sight
In the end, it's all up to time
as I sit and make this silly rhyme
I hope you forgive me of my crime
and bring on the peace sublime
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 9:02 PM UTC
der Verbrecher
waits for an opportunity
to strike at the weakest points.
der Moment
comes for them
to attack the vulnerabilities.
das Zimmer
is encased in black,
shadows creeping everywhere.
die Frage
remains if there's
a lurker amongst the darkness.
das Blut
splatters the wall,
staining the darkness with red.
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 8:57 AM UTC
Her tears first started after she bit an apple.
The instructions were to not eat from the Tree of Knowledge.
She was deceived by a lurker in the grass and flipped the Earth on its head.
As she left the beautiful green garden, her tears sunk into the grasses giving it and everything else life.
Her tears poured out like a tsunami when her son murdered his brother over envy.
Her ears and eyes cried when she heard the screams of her daughters bearing new life.
No one cared about her tears as she was forced away from her home.
Nobody protected her from hands that didn’t belong near her body.
She and her sisters flooded the oceans and seas with salty tears from their swelled-up eyes.
She was never silent with her crying, but no one ever heard her.
Her body as well as those of her children were consciously buried at sea to avoid the atrocities that awaited them in the New World.
Her disobedience caused mankind to fall, but her children were innocent.
Initially.
But has she not cried enough?
Are her tears not an acceptable display of how sorry she is?
The Earth continues to be fertilized by her tears and she’ll never stop giving it life.
Her sons and daughters hate each other and are hated by individuals who are just like them.
She and her sisters left enough tears at their children’s graves to bring them back to life.
Her tears are scattered all over this Earth and yet she’s still crying for all of her children.
Won’t they just learn from their mother’s mistake so they won’t inherit her heavy heart and swollen eyes?
-Mia J
10-21-2020
© 2020 Mia J
May 4, 2025
May 4, 2025 at 9:30 AM UTC
They say love is a many splendor thing
The fireworks, bright lights, the biggest surprise
But I don’t think splendor is everything
Love is a silent lurker of the night
It is in the rainbow after the rain
It is in the words of a poet’s hand
It is in the moments that will remain
Unnoticed, until someone understands.
Love is in the thoughts of ‘how was your day?’
Your eyes, the way you light up when you smile.
Love is in the black, the white, and the gray
It is in the journey, it takes a while.
Love is in the music but nonetheless,
Love is also beautiful in silence.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 7:37 AM UTC
Ooh you got them
Those eerie
Lurker eyes
Eyes we expect
To peep
With feet
We expect
To creep
No doubt
Corners and vans
Are where
You hide out
No doubt
Your thoughts
Are insidious
Maybe you
Should stay away
Ya creeper.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 4:30 PM UTC
Every morning a beaming carmine penetrates my brain
unbeknownst to their perilous call
a smiling bird and a white heal all.
Violates me at my eyes
from green chasing lies
from wicked placed disguise.
Pencils of light at three trips
Here's the stalker of stalkers that haunt my pre dream routine.
Every evening a lustrous crimson punctures my lungs
unbeknownst to their unsafe swath
a quiet bird and a paper moth.
Vexes me at my eyes
from yellow following lies
from haughty placed disguise.
Pencils of light at three trips
Here's the lurker of lurkers that submerge my pre dream routine.
Every night a hazy velvet pierces my heart
unbeknownst to their loving provider
a dead bird and a snow drop spider.
Visits me at my eyes
from red moving lies
from stoic placed disguise.
Pencils of light at three trips
the finest sliver of silence you can imagine.
Feb 19, 2020
Feb 19, 2020 at 8:35 PM UTC
There are many different walks of life
some are twisted, some are nice
and some are just plain cruel.
A Baker with a wheat intolerance
An actor without a part
A farmer who’s afraid of sheep
A banker with a heart
A politician who cannot lie
A Doctor with a cold
A clumsy loud mouthed loose lipped spy
An origami exhile – out of the fold
A discharged army general
turned red faced personal trainer
Or the local park bush lurker
who’s found his nitch as a social worker
The violent ******* criminal
released from behind bars
now spends his weekdays
putting tickets on parked cars
But the worst walk of all,
the most hopeless and empty
is to sit ideal at home
and watch daytime tele.
Jun 10, 2017
Jun 10, 2017 at 9:57 AM UTC
the lurker at the threshold
who holds the key and the gate
he lives within the beyond one
and is the opener of the way
the all-in-one the one-in-all
omniscience and omnipresence
the invulnerable immortal god
he who sees all and all that was
creature born of the nameless mist
one that had father of many horrors
he has sired the unspeakable one
and the tentacle god of sky and sea
let the end be brought about now
through his will and the will of all
that all outer gods may become one
and all inner gods become none
Aug 20, 2019
Aug 20, 2019 at 3:36 AM UTC
Luminous and luscious she shines.
Every day he feels closer,
to that scenic byway life,
the inspirational proposer.
Elegant, light lady, no rationed spirit she is.
Night’s sacred, silent co-worker,
for the work that lay ahead
for this proud and weary dream lurker,
Longing for his truth to be said.
Sustenance he found in the moon’s warm, insulated snow.
For she cast all his sorrows to hell,
Like the Christian story of original sin.
FOR hell, he had been, and TO hell he should go,
If not, he keeps her soft, transcendent light for him,
always in his sky, aglow.
Feb 10, 2025
Feb 10, 2025 at 12:45 PM UTC