"magnetism" poems
Science says that there's a mathematical equation that explains everything in life.
But I say that not even physics bears an explanation for...the guidelines of attraction.
Our primal reactions are multiplied in...the highlights of passion.
These laws of love that linger like a lanterns lost illumination...
Like the campfire light on a clear night, leaves coals of culmination.
Sweat beads lead to bare threads and bare bodies.
And oh my, how bare bodies lead to imaginations running wild.
Cold winds inspire warm kisses and close skin.
Sincere actions aren't sins.
Bodies wound in union, formed by light and tightly bound.
Together, these twisted vines penetrate the hardest ground...
Together, harmonic souls produce passionate sounds.
Yet, still somehow, love gets lost more than love gets found.
This equation is unending...like numbers off lips that kiss the air.
Body language spoken...Our physical bonds parallel eternity and pi squared.
And you know that every moment that we share is nothing short of...molecular love for the masses...
Now held captive by gravity and magnetism...
See, the last full moon marked retrograde...and if the moon affects the tide of the ocean...and our bodies are roughly 75% water...can we assume that this is the only body powerful enough to keep ours apart?
This gravity...
This pull...
It's pulling me apart...so let me pull you closer, stop pushing me away!
Hold on tight, dont let these planets drift away into a dark rift of decay.
Let your love lap upon this solid stone like a river riffles smooth sandbars into hills of higher ground.
Because baby, without your water on my beach...
I'm nothing but a desert, dry and deserted.
Nov 15, 2010
Nov 15, 2010 at 10:53 PM UTC
it's 3:23 in the morning
and I'm awake
because my great great grandchildren
won't let me sleep
my great great grandchildren
ask me in dreams
what did you do while the planet was plundered?
what did you do when the earth was unraveling?
surely you did something
when the seasons started failing?
as the mammals, reptiles, birds were all dying?
did you fill the streets with protest
when democracy was stolen?
what did you do
once
you
knew?
I'm riding home on the Colma train
I've got the voice of the milky way in my dreams
I have teams of scientists
feeding me data daily
and pleading I immediately
turn it into poetry
I want just this consciousness reached
by people in range of secret frequencies
contained in my speech
I am the desirous earth
equidistant to the underworld
and the flesh of the stars
I am everything already lost
the moment the universe turns transparent
and all the light shoots through the cosmos
I use words to instigate silence
I'm a hieroglyphic stairway
in a buried Mayan city
suddenly exposed by a hurricane
a satellite circling earth
finding dinosaur bones
in the Gobi desert
I am telescopes that see back in time
I am the precession of the equinoxes,
the magnetism of the spiraling sea
I'm riding home on the Colma train
with the voice of the milky way in my dreams
I am myths where violets blossom from blood
like dying and rising gods
I'm the boundary of time
soul encountering soul
and tongues of fire
it's 3:23 in the morning
and I can't sleep
because my great great grandchildren
ask me in dreams
what did you do while the earth was unraveling?
I want just this consciousness reached
by people in range of secret frequencies
contained in my speech
©2003
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 6:51 PM UTC
My lips stroll along sultry soft skin
I close my eyes , and see your curves with my kisses,
fingers caressing your belly in infante swirls as if polishing the porcelain surface of a statue,
You lay entranced beneath my gentle stroking , your tummy stimulating the rest if your senses, ******* yearning for attention ,
Strings of a harp waiting to make music, my canvas , your desirable body,
****** finger painting
I meet your lips with mine , for your stamp of approval, my hands answer the call ,
My warm breath ,
Brushes your neck with the stroking of ****** feathers ,
Intensifying the raging desire within your ***** ,
Remnants saliva painted with my tongue evaporates into more of a magnetism, you open yourself to me,
The weight of my passion envelops you
Our tongues dance to the rhythm of our beating hearts
Blood flows through our veins at an increasing temperature
Ignited only by the meeting of our lips.
Intensified
My hands continue to brush your body ,
Answering all the yearning calls ,
I watch you lose yourself in the heat of the moment,
And I continue to stoke the fire
And with a burning wave of passion,
Enfolded bodies
I simply love you off to sleep .......
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 1:22 PM UTC
What if love became so overwhelming, such an inextinguishable force that its true purpose betrayed itself completely?
To the point that even the utterance of those three powerful words, that at a different junction had held such promise, now left a distinct taste of uncertainty on the lips and a ringing of insanity in the ear drum. What else does one say when the most pure form of expression and commitment echo with distain and regret?
Even as I slide into introspection, diving deep to the point of no return, there seems to be no logical path, no penance for the monster I have created. Through my own autonomous actions and neglect I have reached this dark place. Perhaps I indulged beyond a point where thoughts and actions have boundaries. A broken compass , spinning without meaning. All indicators in tact, every cog and point in place, magnetism lost to exaggerated memories, fears and regrets.
Self delusion is a drink that is best served with company. With companionship the mind tends to believe its own meddling. Delusions are mistaken for truth and biased opinions blur with reality.
All roads lead to pain. Every so often a spark jumps to the surface of my consciousness. A pin ***** exclaiming hope. It’s a glitch of my own creation. The belief in happy endings and love prevailing. That love is more powerful than any disappointment, mistake or breech in trust. My reality had been resurfaced and augmented by the media. Love stories are just that. Stories. A wave of manufactured hope, washing over the beach of the human psyche. Every grain of sand is washed back to the sea just as it has arrived.
Happiness, a flame burning on a tiny wick. Enjoy the heat while it lasts for it is going to be a cold winter. And the power is out.
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 3:19 PM UTC
The street
filled with tomatoes,
midday,
summer,
light is
halved
like
a
tomato,
its juice
runs
through the streets.
In December,
unabated,
the tomato
invades
the kitchen,
it enters at lunchtime,
takes
its ease
on countertops,
among glasses,
butter dishes,
blue saltcellars.
It sheds
its own light,
benign majesty.
Unfortunately, we must
****** it:
the knife
sinks
into living flesh,
red
viscera
a cool
sun,
profound,
inexhaustible,
populates the salads
of Chile,
happily, it is wed
to the clear onion,
and to celebrate the union
we
pour
oil,
essential
child of the olive,
onto its halved hemispheres,
pepper
adds
its fragrance,
salt, its magnetism;
it is the wedding
of the day,
parsley
hoists
its flag,
potatoes
bubble vigorously,
the aroma
of the roast
knocks
at the door,
it's time!
come on!
and, on
the table, at the midpoint
of summer,
the tomato,
star of earth, recurrent
and fertile
star,
displays
its convolutions,
its canals,
its remarkable amplitude
and abundance,
no pit,
no husk,
no leaves or thorns,
the tomato offers
its gift
of fiery color
and cool completeness.
11.4k
I was never looking into you
I was only pouring an image of myself onto your canvas
Of course I didn’t know
it was me looking into me
this was the mirage of my desire
always in the shape of a question mark
and you
a sweeping mystery
oozing something toeing the peculiar line between *** and titanium (cold, edgy, sharp - trembling
between pain and principle
like blazer and tie
or more like halfway-unbuttoned-shirt-and-slacks on-with-no-tie
(it was like you were making an effort!))
It was ***
but it also wasn’t ***
(I am empty
I am full)
I keep building up and up and up
all these images in my Mind
(which never shuts up)
(a never-ending narrative
She spins and spins and succumbs
only in those rare and passing circumstances)
constructing people like buildings
only the scaffolding is imaginary and when
the architecture folds in on itself
soulless
and my beloved figurines come toppling down on me
why do I still get so surprised
so stung
so lonely in that
hollow and distant way
(like your Mind is echoing
in on
Itself)?
My Mind is like quicksand
devouring streams of memory with ease
forever unsatisfied and craving more of the same
sharp edges and all
praying for a satiation in some distant future
She knows will never come
Only here
in this tiny universe
can I spell out anything resembling rationality
from the mess and junk and tangled tendrils of my Mind
Only here
can I extract bits and pieces of thoughts
and try to puzzle them together
until they make sense
until I can separate “Me” from “Reality"
And what doesn’t make sense
what I need to understand
is why I feel so beset
with this heavy magnetism that
overpowers me to the point of
paralysis
(with little to no room for breathing)
and why it was you
who pushed me into this feeling
and you
who is still pulling me along
far past the threshold of my resistance
and I am done
and it stings
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 12:51 PM UTC
And I recall that when I first l laid my eyes upon him, I knew that he was the one for me. I think he knew too. It was the power of the look we exchanged, the magnetism of it, the electricity, the immense power of the force of attraction. He had something in him that was irresistible and that something drew me to him like a moth to a flame. My heart sunk into the deep confines of my body, my eyes were ravenous for him, my body yearned for him. As if the world had suddenly ceased to exist, as if nothing else mattered in the world and all I wanted was to be with you and know you inside and out, know you better than you know yourself. Love at first sight does not exist, it is impossible to come to love a man at first glance, to understand him, to trust him. It is possible to be infatuated with him. It is possible to be consumed with his face, his nose, his eyes...to be in lust at first sight. But this lust grows, yes this lust swells into love and my life is empty without you here and my heart needs you to pump the blood through my veins and my brain needs you to tell me how to speak again and my hand needs you to be here to firmly hold it. A seed was planted with that first look and was watered with words and touches, and the seed grew to be the size of the universe plus everything in it and more than that. We are on fire and our sparks fuel the flames.
Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 2:45 AM UTC
You were so hot I spun twice to see, call me a fan
Your regal youth made my blood boil, call you peter pan
*You were like a boomerang I wanted to throw away but you kept* coming back to me,
*And maybe I've always been scared of hurdles and you were my biggest one, 'cause I just can't* get over you, you see
I thought you were like a paradox:
Cool as ice and hot as molten rock
You were like a magician with words, drove me so crazy I was pulling out my hare,
You steal my heart like a pirate captain when I sea you standing there,
But you didn’t have any morals, I deserve to call you whoreible
Yet you still think you're cute. you know? leaving my house the way you came would be adooreble
I discovered your texts to her on my birthday, the cake was ruined with my tiers
You caught my Eye with your animal magnetism, but you’ve been a cheetah for years
What? you think this is a game? No, you don't have a clue!
You had a monopoly on my life and now your name is taboo
You said you needed some time and space to yourself you were the only one in the galaxy I Wanted,
I guess life never turns out how you planet and since you left I've been feeling haunted,
Why did I believe you were a great catch? Just because you **master *****
You made me think we could smash; every second felt like a brawl
Loving you was no gouda, though I swiss you now that you’re gone, it isn’t easy,
I said goodbye, It’s not you it’s brie, sorry that was cheesy.
You gave my life flavor but you were just a masked spyce that made my life sour like limes
I know I need to chili but you have really bad taste and we’re out of thyme
I need a holiday *from your lies, my patience is running short
I’m better off with you gone, and leaving you is my last* resort
I guess we didn't have that spark no need to be astunished,
all I know now is: IT IS TIME YOU WERE PUNISHED.
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 9:52 PM UTC
my heart flutters at
the way she speaks my name.
"lover", she hums,
and i watch speechless as woebegone
drips from her lips. she
tastes like moonlight
when she kisses me. fragile.
unknown. known.
when our bodies meet
i can't imagine living life any
differently than this;
magnetism draws me closer and
i am intoxicated and sobered and
and i let my fingers
trace symphonies over her skin
love songs and love letters
and the lust of
knowing that this is belonging.
we fold into each other
and it is inevitable. i want to
learn her, learn
every part of her, as if
it's what my soul was sent to do;
her heartbeat weaves a
gossamer of beauty and
she leaves it in the crease of my
neck. "lover".
lightworker. twinflame.
architect of this home, these
two arms that sing safety
into rose quartz bones.
this is harmony.
i release a held breath and
whisper back, "always".
this is my promise.
Jul 26, 2017
Jul 26, 2017 at 10:33 AM UTC
Like a meme of activism
This women's coalition
Mothers
Sister
Friends
Pioneers and heroines
There's courage in their convictions
A guild of collectivism
They hold luncheons in their kitchens
Talk of abolition
Mysticism
Feminism
Of heroes and magnetism
Seduction
Love
Eroticism
They scream like banshees at a crucifixion
About injustice
Dereliction
Terrorism
A tradition underwritten
With symbolism
Drums
Violins
Musicians
They may be sitting
They may be knitting
Baking muffins
Folding linen
Running errands
Stuffing chickens
A juxtaposition to their ambition
Of inspiring the unwilling
Turning derision to optimism
Their fire and brimstone
Will have history rewritten
Freedom of reproduction
Liberalism
Animism
They have wisdom
Intuition
Rhythm
They are fearsome
This women's coalition
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 4:07 PM UTC
He sees the world as her backdrop,
And loves her wholly.
She knows that and wants to love him back, but
All she can feel is lonely.
As he sleeps she cries in
Tight, silent heaves in rhythm
With his chest as he breathes.
His face is lit from neon light,
Slipping through a slit on the strung-up sheet--
An eye to the street,
And to everything that's beyond this life that she leads.
But she needs him and
Please, she begs, *Have him
Hate me, at least. I'm weak--
I'll linger until he throws me away,
Because at least then I can say
That it wasn't my choice, but
Everything must fade.*
She goes on a walk every night now,
Riddled with complexes and smoking,
Eyes roving with 2AM mascara,
Wearing a spring dress in dead winter.
Head down in a crowd, aware
Of herself existing only when men stare.
They crave for her, she craves for him,
Her sadness, a narcotic magnetism.
She drowned off the coast
Of the island in her kitchen.
She weighed herself down with
Her faults like mountains and
Yellowed ambition.
Dec 8, 2012
Dec 8, 2012 at 1:40 AM UTC
title: not god, but his clock, will gnaw at us: that we are mortal, and agitated by a libido to continue, as to why the immortals find us so cosmic, for the worth of not exacting a better joke prescribed to other genus archetypes... whether the atheists believe in a blind-watchmaker is beside the point... the actual conjuring of the ultimate engineered thing will undo us... only the gods could have engineered time... space? they can't fathom space, the gods could only engineer time, but they couldn't engineer space: the cliche, think outside the box? even the gods know nought concerning this; and if there is only one god... he has been lodged into a letter: θ - a 1 inside a 0; the being already confined... even gods have limits beyond the stressor of supposed immortality... they can't engineer space... all they can engineer, is a transcendence of time... only mortals, men, can engineer the concept of space... hence nations, hence borders, hence differences, hence the concept of magnetism and repulsion... if gods engineered time, then men engineered space... as now, and forever, will remain so, the quest for a cosmic joke / clue.
it won't be the blind-watchmaker
who eats us up,
the the clock itself -
it will devour us,
it will gnaw our flesh toward
the bone,
and then with out bones
play an instrument
to glorify its procession down
the aisles of our endeavours
to express civility...
was there any to begin with?
our temporal anxiety, being mortals,
equates itself
with the spatial anxiety of the immortals
(gods).
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 9:30 PM UTC
I was a moth
drawn to your flame
once.
I was a moth
when I saw your candle
extinguish
from afar.
I was a moth
being burned by your embers
touching
the scales on my wings.
I was a moth
on your doorstep;
I fluttered about the light on your front porch
while
you kissed her goodnight.
I was a moth;
I was a moth;
I am a moth,
and I am dying.
I am a moth,
and there is little time left for me.
For, in a month,
the magnetism will cease,
and the flame
will burn out.
Then what is left?
Dec 13, 2011
Dec 13, 2011 at 7:21 PM UTC
Emerging from the darkness,
Your face is encircled with stars of Orion.
Fog surrounding your silhouette.
Overwhelming force field separating
My aura from yours.
Walk a fine street of plated gold,
Deploring plastic cores,
and camera stores.
Flying fast,
Screaming at the past.
Back down from the galaxy.
I scream with ecstasy;
"I am Shakespearean!
I am Freudian!"
You are Napolean,
King Henry and Led Zeppelin!"
Crash, smash, crack myself open.
Electromagnetic magnetism.
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 11:10 PM UTC
O'er the ocean
By the sea
On the sand
Or in a tree
Wherever your
Heart beats
Wherever your
Blood red
Heart bleeds
I'll always be
Right next
To thee
You can climb
Every mountain
Any place you want to go
You are my fountain
I will stand beside you
Watch as your ocean
Waves and flows
A beautiful collision
Walking on water
Your blooms unfold
Our flowers grow
We levitate
We gravitate
In two
One another
We are
Stardust
Undercover
Meet me underneath
The sea
You are a mermaid
Diving into the deep
Everything imaginary
Exists with me
I'll be your seahorse
Float around you
I'll be your owl
Soaring down to
Offer you
A ride
You decide
Glide
On my wings
Rest your head
Face the magic
Of Queens
And Kings
Breathing under water
Is an art we have
Perfected
Unaffected
By the world that
Surrounds us
Even if
War has found us
We are blessed
I have you
You have me
A sturdy nest
Protectors
We are the directors
Of world peace
Nothing can stop
The brilliance
We possess
Watch as every
Constellation
Kneels before us
To confess
The joy
That they
Witness
Flying in the sky
I'll be your falcon
You can always
Count on me
Relentlessly
Resilience is my middle name
I know you feel the same
Two twin lights
We fight the storm
Of life
Our love is warm
Sending off our fires
Into the night
A blast of stars
Fireworks
Unite in the
Nursery of
Our heaven
One voice
One song
We shine like the moon
Above the jungle
Every lagoon
Coasting over every island
Eternal friends
Every bayou
Until earth bends
I'll go with you
We are
In the back pocket
Of every lover
Reaching in
They will find
The kisses
That we keep there
Our galaxies
Of affection
We are everywhere
In everything
Let the universe stare
Wherever we are
We are there
A magnetism of
Contagious smiles
A sound that
Resonates for miles
A definite glow
A laser light show
Atomic illumination
In the blink of an eye
The Big Bomb
Of Creation
We are the resolution
God's gift to evolution
Sharing our love
With every child
Every elder
Every homeless
Shelter
Let the universe stare
Wherever we are
We are there
A magnetism of
Contagious smiles
A sound that
Resonates for miles
And miles
© tHE tERRY tREE
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 12:19 AM UTC
it's not easy being just friends
when this summer you kissed
me with the passion of the sun
that scorched our backs by the
beach and it's so hard when
you catch my gaze and I can
literally feel the magnetism
between us even when we don't
touch but oh when we do my body
is helpless just like your board
in the ocean sloshing around
in the crashing surf but our
relationship was a bit like a
wave because it came and went
and left nothing behind but it
never really crashed against
the shore it was more just like
the moon slowly pulling the tide
in as the sun goes down in the late
afternoon and I can remember you
asking me if it was waxing or waning
and which constellations I could see
and I never knew the answer but now
I know that I really really do miss you
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 12:48 AM UTC
The greatest of distances separated us,
but being abrasive at best,
our two rougher edges always sparked.
Even when friendly,
a side conversing of judgement
and not-quite-resentment
kept the parameters of conversation
shallow and narrow minded.
Deeper inference
caused interference
like static in my mind,
and short circuits were common
even in the most civil of discussions
common to other circles.
Round and round,
wishes to connect and
a secret bid for volatile collision
kept us chasing,
while a wary voice forced us to stay separated
like magnets pushing and pulling.
Never did two people
hate so many common things
and yet repulse each other so completely.
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC
You
Are untamed
Reckless blood and wit intertwined
A twisted, brazen
mind.
Your mind
Is so clearly different
It leaps and soars, so acrobatic
And your thoughts appear to me so hazy and enigmatic
Your mind is simply not pragmatic
Yet your perception knows no bounds.
You have thoughts that come close to insanity
That sometimes flow in the form of profanity.
Your spirit
Is either very high or very low
Up and down, to and fro
There is no in between for you
Some say you are stupidly crazy
The dull ones say that, the ones too lazy
To see beyond the rugged surface.
The subdued and vapid ones
Will never understand the magnetism
Of your sweet, exquisite devilry.
On your face you often wear
A fierce and restless stare
A wan, discontented expression
As though you're always awaiting
Something bigger,
Something better.
You
Are fluid, swaying fire
And I will never tire
Of watching you burn
I can see you brain boil and churn
As it reels into into areas of
madness and chaos.
Your psyche
Is an endless field of dark reverie,
Of fear and vagary.
I know your night terrors
Your savage dreams of death
Screams and bated breath
Unutterable visions
The grotesque world of horror thats spins itself out
And dribbles into your drawings
All those creatures, skeletons gnashing and clawing...
You
Are gentle and thoughtful
Yet you are terrified
Of this dark thing that sleeps within you.
Your eyes - they’re stunning
They’re tempestuous,
Wild, like some fierce animal peering out of a rusted cage
Oh, your eyes
They are something beautiful, but annihilating
Like Autumn crocus flowers, innocently poisonous
Lids splaying delicately like its violet leaves.
You are tall and strong
And uncontrollable,
And your smile
Is the biggest paradox I've ever encountered
Childlike
And fatal.
You are not
A creature of the commonplace
You are not a slave of the ordinary
You are not a mindless drudge of the mundane
You are free.
Or bewitched, what's the difference
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 5:21 PM UTC
You are not your Body,
but your Body is your Temple;
and your Temple is the only Altar
at which I'm compelled to worship.
The Goddess I know is present
The Goddess I know and love
The Goddess known to you as "I"
dwells within that earthly Temple
thus is thy Temple my Altar
I want to darken the room;
to turn off the lights
draw the curtains
and then to light candles
and disrobe our Temples
and lay upon a bed of satin
and to begin to carefully trace
the subtle curves, circles, arcs and lines of your Temple
with the lips, tongue, teeth and fingertips of mine
and to forget the sense of Time
we both know so well by now;
I want the Music of the harmonies of our Temples
to drown out the music of the turntable
I want the rhythm of our Love
to pulse so deep into the Night
that it comes back out the other side
I want the melodies we accidentally sing
to make the Moon and Stars blush with envy
I want to worship your Temple
in all the ways that we'd see fit;
I want us to moan in blissful, belligerent unison,
our eyes meeting with such electricity
that the spark creates ephemeral dim light
just before the magnetism pulls us together
and we kiss a kiss to end all kisses
just before we kiss a kiss to begin it all again.
I want this holy communion
under naked moonlight of Love
and I want to hold your Temple
until all Temples cease to be.
Time has no meaning
when we're apart.
Time has yet less meaning
when we're together.
I love you and your magnificent Temple,
my one and only Earthly Goddess,
and I can wish for nothing more
than to be able
to make you unable
to doubt it,
once more.
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 5:43 AM UTC
To lie beside you
To have you suckle my breast
with your warm wet tongue...
To remember you softly caressing every inch of my body...
The curvature of your hips,
rhythmically dancing with mine until they seemed as one..
To feel you entering inside me,
filling me with your sweet nectar..
The wetness sliding down my thigh and gently falling onto the sheets...
Both of our scents filling the room with the unmistakable aroma of animal magnetism...
And when we had said our goodbyes,
and I fondly thought back to our passage in time,
I was once again aroused by the memories of our **********
I can still taste you..us..our sweet nectar mixing, as did our love,
in that one passage in time...
Oct 13, 2010
Oct 13, 2010 at 3:35 PM UTC
There's a magnetism -
in the air, in the ground, in the eyes of the sun,
keeping gravity in check with the mind of the sun
to keep things in order with the heart of the sun -
outside of structure, inside of paradox -
circles, circles, circling the cosmos with blank maps and directionless compasses
Writing, writing, writing - to collect a volume of love and work and truth and play -
seeking nothing more than meaning, an answer to the eternal enigmas
- why? - how? - what is this? - who am I?
Coming up empty as a begger's hands
and as rich as the poorest soul inside the palace of enlightenment -
silent solitude in the meditation of the sun,
inner exploration through the thoughts of the sun,
exploiting the strength of the light of the sun -
all to gain a following of selfless knowers -
all flowing along the river empty endless,
holding together through the magnetism,
Praying for salvation come the other side of this life,
the Heaven, the Garden, the Utopian dream
The magnetism - unexplainable electron of consciousness -
the Universal It - the All in the One - the Whole -
the Source and the Body,
circles, circles, circling in orbit the mathematical patterns of Being,
within the question of the answer,
within the definition of "nothing", where nothing is still something -
Let gravity fall where it may, just as love hunts its prey
As law holds flaccid in the court of Cosmic Direction,
The hearts beat stronger during resistance than in times of rest -
pulled into existence past the veil of illusory doubt through magnetism -
That taste of creation, grand awesome beauty within delicate fingers,
playing piano silent in halls of endless imagination - infinity.
There's a magnetism - everywhere, there's a magnetism.
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 5:56 PM UTC
Reaching out for what delivers its existence
The thirsty tree extends its limbs further to the sun
An encounter craved, but still valuing its bestowment
Forever longing anxiously for that connection
The summer winds carrying this hopeful firefly
Emitting the lonely light that calls out for another
Releasing these signals in hopes of discovering you
Again a flicker and finally the mate is matched
Sprinting to the sea, the relentless river runs
Passionately carving its way through the slighted landscape
Obviously enraptured by its desirous charge
Awaiting the second its frenzied rush reaches home
Like the sun now churning our eager energy
Overthrowing senses with this rampantly raging need
Overwhelming magnetism lures us toward temptation
Inescapably mesmerized by this sensation
Profound in nature, driven by this timeless dance
Sophisticatedly conjoining into fulfillment
A base for these unbridled electrical impulses
The quintessence of our fusion now realized
We are the union of two wandering forces
Ignition progresses affectionate meditations
Quietly absorbing the synthesizing of segments
Once unrelated, now entangled eternally
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 2:17 PM UTC
i wish to touch the bits of you that endure my dirt.
i wish
more than ever the shape of your face in the curve of my long and twisted fingers.
there's something about it that make my hands
okay to look at again.
like they may have a found a fitful purpose, caressing the demon mouth
that kisses my angel teeth,
residing underneath
my loved lips
that send trips
to your words.
they encase your bright
eyes
and devour the confidence left in them.
but what i meant
to say was, i see your bright
eyes
showing fight to the fence
that you build so high.
i can see the lies shine
like a light was tied ,
just for me to breach them.
just so i could teach them,
you are one to beat them.
even though its you who seeds them.
emitting the aroma of tainted goodness and its all
okay
because of the eutony of this all.
these words can break my fall.
if i make the call,
and summon the space,
my soul
will come and take the place
of the weak face
i can no longer
sonder,
anymore in the background of your filled up recognitions.
there's
no
space
for
my
sad
face.
there's
no
place
for
my
heart
ache.
sent into solivagance.
this is a dark red redamancy,
one of a curse.
the birth
of our breakage
started at the first
touch of a sacred
unto a scarred soul.
and she cried
finding nothing but an empty black hole,
in return. forever churned
in a lustuous magnetism.
a
love prison.
its something that buries itself
beneath all the logic in my heart,
creeping from underneath my sins.
its some kind of wonder,
beckoning the birth rights
of every death in my future.
[ it's some kind of mutual case of kalopsia. ]
Of all the questions that beg my being,
why do my fingers still only look straight
when they're resting on your rigid face ?
Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 11:10 PM UTC
This weekend I found a book in an antique store
it had no title and it smelled of its age
but it told me our love was selfish
and I've been thinking
maybe we need to wake up
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 8:01 PM UTC