"magnifies" poems
The windspan,
of your open arms,
incalculably magnifies
On,the simplicity of
hiding wind in your pockets,
and the stars in your eyes
Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 11:36 PM UTC
in some sort of twisted way
i've missed having someone make me spit
that wondrous insignificance that comes
with letting somebody under your skin
every word out of their mouth an attack
& every action they take purposely meant to exclude you
to tease you
to please them
to watch you squirm
letting somebody in
it's even worse when they sneak through
a window
without you noticing
& then it's over
they tighten their grip
around your rationale
your compassion
your free will
and suddenly
everything is about them
and everything brings you to your knees
and you want to cry out
and scream
but you wouldn't want to disturb them
it's been a while since i've jumped through hoops
but light them on fire
suspend them over impossible heights
and foolishly my heart will guide me towards
doom grounded in absolute certainty
but fight
cry
struggle
laugh
dissect yourself
as her every breath magnifies every
insecurity you thought you had completely buried
yes
in some sick way
i've missed being made so sick with care
with worry
that i don't stand tall enough in the eyes of
some inconceivable creature
an inexorably important
omnipotent mind-numbing
force
in complete control
in short,
i am ******
i've missed being ******
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
I would take pictures
of myself on facebook but I would rarely ever wear a smile.
I would not take selfies not for attention and not for love from any love else.
They were just daily reminders and the cruel reality was that I have always hated the way I looked.
I obsessed over my weight and thought if I did look skinnier that I would look great.
A few times in my life I had to face my inner battle head on
it has won me an few times in my life.
At certain points in my life I rejected eating and enjoying my food.
All the fat comments took my joy of eating away, they were
so vile and rude.
Being shouted at in the street and called the fat loser.
In this period of my life I had an year of self hatered and defeat.
The eating issue was hard to beat.
I would get triggered
if anyone mentioned anything relating to my weight if it was just another joke.
The echo of the rude comments
would stand out in my brain
repeating the same rude line.
"Your a fat loser"
Even when people in my family
said I was looking fine and were more concerned about my health.
The voice in my head would keep shouting that these are all lies.
I said to people around me
please do not keep mentioning
about my weight and just talk
about other topics.
Dont keep feeding the hate that is already there when there are plenty of things out than just talking about my weight.
It only magnifies the issue of the ED
and this makes it tougher to fight inside my mind.
I have accepted my ED and dealt
with some of my inner pain
that is only half the battle, in my own head I must learn to accept and love my body, be happier and eat more regularly without feeling any dread, guilt and remorse.
Love my self, ignore the haters and horrible cruel comments that have always stood out in my mind.
The comments and thoughts
are always going to be there
but I now I know I really dont care as much about this
and to not let it control my life.
The rude people in the street
might have won the battle at the time
for a short while
but they never won the whole war over me.
I have choose now to accept my fate, eat again and be more health. Learning to love myself again and that is the final score.
Feb 1, 2022
Feb 1, 2022 at 2:23 AM UTC
the dead re-materialise by the side of the roadside
they are visible as though seen through a spotlight
it is a brutally interrogative light
that magnifies these corpses
makes them resemble the fragments
of suicidal terracotta pots
it magnifies them as symbolic equivalents
of their real image
its beam dazzles broken glass on the pavement
the breakage an impersonation of their cataclysm
causing the edges of seeing to hurt
and hearing to submerge itself
in a turquoise blue aquarium in fear
as speech sounds a primitive retreat
in its atavistic echoes of inveterate distraction
there is a disorder of blood stains on the road
where all emotional impulse is volatilised
causing a wild distillation of programmed anxiety
which in a different vocabulary becomes
a figment of somebody else's imagination
causing a sinister, stuporous, stagnancy of sound
in palpitations, dropped heartbeats, nausea, headaches
and a foul change in bowel function
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 10:11 AM UTC
Away, ye muses, all away!
Away with songs of finch and fay.
Away the jaundiced sight
That magnifies the firefly’s light
To bonfire bright;
That sets ablaze at once
My musing’s dimly burning lamps;
That ornaments with rhymes
The penury-stricken looks betimes;
That over-clothes the logic – lord
With fancy –swollen words.
Away, the partial love
That ‘boldens Nature to sit above
Her Maker!
This day I fasten eyelid doors,
With absence wax my ears,
With languorous peace congeal
My tongue, my touch, my tears *
That I within may pore
Upon the things behind, ahead,
In the darkness round me spread.
I lock Dame Nature out
With all her fickle rout.
Somewhere here,
In the darkness drear,
I myself with cheer
My course will steer
In the path
E’er sought by all:
Its magnet call
I hear.
Not hear, not here,
Apollo would his burning chariot steer;
Nor Diana dare to peep
Into the sacred silence deep.
Not here, not here,
Not far or near
Can mounts or rebel waves
E’er make me full of fear;
Nor evermore
Their dreadful grandeur to adore.
Not here, not here
The soft capricious wiles of flowers;
Nor swarming storm clouds’ sweeping terror,
Dishevelling the trees
And light-haired skies;
Nor doomsday’s thunderous roar,
Dismantling earth and stars-
The cosmic beauties all to mar –
Not Nature’s murderous mutiny,
Nor man’s exploding destiny
Can touch me here.
Not here, not here:
Through mind’s strong iron bars,
Not gods or goblins, men or nature,
Without my pass dare enter.
I look behind, ahead –
On naught but darkness tread.
In wrath I strike, and set the dark ablaze
With the immortal spark of thought,
By friction-process brought
Of concentration
And distraction.
The darkness burns
With a million tongues;
And now I spy
All past, all distant things, as nigh.
I smile serene
As I expose to gaze.
In wisdom’s brilliant blaze,
All charms of the Hidden Home Unseen:
The Home of Nature’s birth,
The planets’ moulding hearth,
The factory whence all forms or fairies start,
The bards, colossal minds, and hearts,
The gods and all,
And all, and all!
Away, away
With all the lightsome lays!
Oh, now will I portray
In humble way,
And try to lisp, if only in half truths,
Of wordless charms of Thee Unseen,
To whom Dame Nature owes her nature
and her sheen.
3.1k
Never have I taken love
for granted or in vain.
If some perceive that this I've done
I'm sorry for the pain.
For love, that peerless gift of all
should never be denied.
But understanding's needed
and in hearts it must abide.
Absence makes it greater still
as distance magnifies
The longing harbored by each heart,
though social mores defies.
So cling to love through thick and thin
through unrequited pain.
Reality is just the one
and love of self, the gain.
Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 12:37 PM UTC
No words
Just pain
Width drawl
My body aches
Suffocating
Tearing apart
Each ache magnifies
A new one is born
Each different
Never enough
My eyes strain for you
Burn at the sight of you
I am your slave
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 3:08 AM UTC
I posted this poem a few days after I joined HP. As is oft the case, poems you are especially proud of, fall to the wayside, under the onslaught of the constant waterfall of new submissions. With the usual exception of Ms. Lori C., one of the two unofficial High Priestesses of HP, in my estimation, this one, was pretty much overlooked. Despite some comical jaunts of late re bras and beds, real inspiration has escaped me ever nice I penned "Sittin' On The Dock Of The Bay (Razor Blades, Pills, & Shotguns" last week. So, with your hoped for solicitude, I resubmit it, hoping it finds a wider audience and dedicate it to those of you who I number as friends (you know who you are!), despite the fact that our only shared embraces have been techno~electronic, and yet the quality of your kindness is beyond measure.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Numerical Quality of Friendship
The quality of friendship is non-quantitative.
Yet, I ask you to number it, and me, this way.
With tape measure, determine that:
The length of my arm's embrace will always be
longer than long enough, and when distance magnifies sorrow's gains,
my shoulders measure wide enough to pillow your wearied head.
The depth of my pocket is finite for by definition,
a pocket is but an open doored, three walled shelter.
My pocket of shelter is forever open, forever deep,
and forever is infinite.
Trust that when bowed and bent,
upon my shoulders climb and together we will be tall enough
to touch the season's new fruit upon the tree of life,
and with one tongue, taste the unimaginable!
Do u think that mercury can measure
the warmth of my tears when love sears my heart,
or the heat of thy skin when it heals and cauterizes
wounds salted by the mistreatment, by the bitters of the weak ones,
who rejoice when they scald others?
Size me up.
What is my volume?
What are the boundaries that
length X depth X height
state must limit my capacity to cherish, to heal,
and even to forgive those who deserve no forgiveness?
If you measure me well and proper,
if I meet the standards that qualify me to be called friend,
then friend me here, friend me now,
friend me for the qualities I posses,
and number us a unity among the few
who are truly blessed
by a quality of friendship that cannot be measured,
for there is no scientific instrument that can quantify
limitless.
March 2012
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 3:21 PM UTC
It's 6pm,
anxiously waiting till its 8pm,
For the voice of magic,
that magnifies my heart from so many miles away,
This is my confession your voice is perfection,
I love the way you alter those words of affection,
Without going down memory lane,
Butterflies in my belly doing the flip floppy thing like a lolly,
As I feel your sweet melodious voice,
Solidify & Stir-up in my heart,
I wanna radically alter my thought,
I'm astonished by your rapid transformation of words
To be sincere,
If the sea where to be a burning fire &
the blustery wind were to blow it profusely
Like a stormy rain of volcano upon the land,
I will never leave,
I will always be on nigeria info,
Where I get all the info,
the purest of creativity you deliver,
you diva,
When I tune-in in the evening,
you Ignite my heart
Your eyes are the kaleidoscope,
to my ever moving colorful world of reality,
Let me leave for now,
I will be back soon by night,
I think others are in anxiety,
Trying to drop in,
Their beautiful words of human creativity.
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 7:55 PM UTC
You run your fingers up my thigh
I sigh at the delicate touch and
Inwardly shudder at my multiplying
feelings, I try to say stop but
the cry dies on my lips
this I want
My body belies my shyness
My body electrifies my senses
no shame is felt as those fingers explore
the stimuli they bring, crash into me
like waves upon the shore.
Higher and deeper, they amplify
the lullaby that in my head sings my
shyness away and magnifies my delight.
Detoxified, I soar like a dragonfly
mystified at the brazen me
lying spent in the moonlight.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 8:33 AM UTC
I see no other endless tomorrow than
To lie face to face with you
On a bed of lavenders and violets.
The cool sun magnifies
The verdant fields in your eyes
And the radiant shadows of my hair.
Morning breeze enshrouds our bodies
Sustained by flames more eternal than Vesta’s.
Here forever after
In my ideal world.
If I felt hunger it shall not last long,
For there are nectars from the giant continent that is you.
If you knew thirst it shall be quenched,
Just drink from my hidden wells and fountains.
But remember that I’m not like the ancient Eve
And you can only be the Adam in our own accord.
The butterflies or birds won’t shame me.
The grasses or trees won’t complain.
For loving you is the only truth
In my ideal world.
My hands are here to heal and amuse you,
As long as your arms embrace me from harm.
We own only the lips and ears
Where sweet sounds pass by
To lull as to dream or memorize
We’ll not know starless night of horror,
The way the moon becomes our constant watcher.
We’ll fear no lightning or thunder of wrath
For the rain will be our noble preserver.
Come and stay
In my ideal world.
We don’t have to worry about Sunday
Or think of God to pray.
Nature is our divine link to the cosmos,
And us the perpetual worship fleshed out.
Celestial or earthly we need not know
For this is the spot where boundaries depart.
But all these remain as bright colors in my head
Unless you key in yourself in my mind
And enshrine me to your heart.
Our story can be written by our breath
On petals and foliage of existence to this place.
Somewhere we can call ours,
Come and take
My ideal world.
Jun 25, 2010
Jun 25, 2010 at 2:16 AM UTC
878
The Sun is gay or stark
According to our Deed.
If Merry, He is merrier—
If eager for the Dead
Or an expended Day
He helped to make too bright
His mighty pleasure suits Us not
It magnifies our Freight
2.3k
Words, words hurt even if they are just restating facts.
Facts somehow now twisted by how they were originally delivered.
Passing on information to people I think should know.
Know for my heart, know for my peace of mind.
But jealousy it seems should always be forgotten.
Talking about it magnifies it beyond what it is, just slight and simple.
I made a man into a monster in her eyes.
Something he doesn't deserve.
I sit in the midst of a love triangle in which the woman doesn't want either of us.
She just wanted to be friends with both of us.
Now her urge to be more intimate with me as a friend is blocked by a barrage of concentration on a subject that should be so light and whimsical.
And a friend who had his heart crushed by seeing that intimacy.
I feel like a wolf, these words bite and wrangle, and won't dissipate for 100 years, says Muhammad, pbuh.
I always think work will become easier, but tests multiply, and it stays hard - hard in heart.
Feb 18, 2021
Feb 18, 2021 at 11:36 PM UTC
in moonlight whispers love fills my heart
and glass with wine, and magnifies
my soul to tenderness.
the biting, scraping, lustful pining
for distant and abhorrent truth
is solace in place of reality.
a reality where we address the trauma
of unkind childhoods, bloodied knees,
and chipped teeth.
misunderstandings that follow the gap
in a shortness of breath before an apology.
that remind you that your thoughts
can only love if you do.
and years later you will have some drunken
outpour that darkens the moonlight
and comfort, but makes way
to some otherworldly dawn beyond
the you that reads this now.
Jul 25, 2023
Jul 25, 2023 at 5:10 AM UTC
The Numerical Quality of Friendship
The quality of friendship is non-quantitative.
Yet, I ask you to number me this way.
With tape measure, determine that:
The length of my arm's embrace will always be
longer than long enough, and when distance magnifies sorrow's gains,
my shoulders measure wide enough to pillow your wearied head.
The depth of my pocket is finite for by definition,
a pocket is but an open doored, three walled shelter.
My pocket of shelter is forever open, forever deep,
and forever is infinite.
Trust that when bowed and bent,
upon my shoulders climb and together we will be tall enough
to touch the season's new fruit upon the tree of life,
and with one tongue taste the unimaginable!
Do u think that mercury can measure
the warmth of my tears when love sears my heart,
or the heat of thy skin when it heals and cauterizes
wounds salted by the mistreatment, by the bitters of the weak ones,
who rejoice when they scald others?
Size me up.
What is my volume?
What are the boundaries that
length X depth X height
state must limit my capacity to cherish, to heal,
and even to forgive those who deserve no forgiveness?
If you measure me well and proper,
if I meet the standards that qualify me to be called friend,
then friend me here, friend me now,
friend me for the qualities I posses,
and number us a unity among the few
who are truly blessed
by a quality of friendship that cannot be measured,
for there is no scientific instrument that can quantify,
limitless.
March 2012
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 11:26 PM UTC
Driving down the road
I experienced the glow
Of daytime's luxurious light
That was until it became night
Now that night has happened
A light follows me from the darkness
It pervades my rear view mirror
It's blinding magnitude magnifies upon reflection
The light intimidates me
Like the time
I didn't know what to say
And you had nothing to say
So we went our separate ways
Traveling alone
The light seems brighter
It's constant peering presence disturbs me
I feel this condemning nightlight is my jury
Like the time
The ****** I injected landed me in jail
I used it to sedate the voice that I failed
When you saw my love and bailed because I'm male
I drive lonely and high
There's an exasperated sigh
When the lights gets closer
I feel it may bring closure
Like the time
You entered my vehicle
To protect me from the light
I confused your compassion for love
I felt so stupid
When foolish fits me like a glove
I feel so putrid
The odds of someone being gay are slim
So why when my hopes are dashed
Must I crumble into idiotic ash?
My eyes grow larger
As death's sights grow smaller
And death's light grows taller
My mistakes create magnification
And I begin to drive erratically
When you are my love's activation
I continue to die sporadically
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 5:26 AM UTC
An effusive elaborate scheme the colors advance to bright spellbinding allure then they achieve
Depth of quality by cutting back to softer hues and then the natural dark green is the bold
Touch that succeeds with total symmetry showcased in a view perfected by glass the prism
Most fitting not only to see but to be captivated by perfected expression it is a metaphor for life
The master designer chooses his subjects well one infuses another then by degree others
Foreshadow and glorify it blends tangible and intangible into intelligent coherent order tasteful
And sublime the hint and the elusive wonder all is needed is the wind to bow and ****** it into
A profusion a veritable concert that stirs with appeal life is in motion the players advance and
Retreat each speaking lines unique to themselves what sensations speak tendrils on a garden
Trellis held and fixed a gesture that plays and portrays intricate details the mystery that plays so
Well the stealing of morning frost then the blaze and then restful dying rays that spell comfort
The field rolls and contorts this brandishes excitement exuberance veers and plunders life
Become exploration trails hidden thickets hide and hold expression that is pent up ready to
Explode what vesture we wear it grips our friend’s astonishment is read on their faces but it is
Like a house of many mirrors because their lives are having the same effect on you some days
Are uneventful others are storm tossed with grandness the riches of an all contained realm
Spasms convulse like waves of the sea we stand forth to puzzle and dream what does it all
Mean the sanctity reveals plumes that are invisible that are far reaching and they have given us
This course of endurance that belies longing we grow soft and an inner glowing surpasses the
Stringent the misfit that moans against conforming we are treasure that exceeds all expectation
Life is rich we are its brightest colors and light night is for brooding the day is for shinning and
Divulging the secrets found in the brooding time we accost others we signify to them not only
Our own worth but there’s also fetching is the spray that magnifies the sky we are the bursting
We are the aliveness that is found each day in our lives that is the dooryard of discovery
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 1:28 AM UTC
With a suitcase
Of a past
Belonging to
Another of me
Strain keeps pulling
In steps already taken
Scanning the beauty ahead
Looking at the swamp behind
Earth flys with the release
As the baggage crashes
Splaying open
It’s contents no longer contained
Dust devils swirl
As torments fly upward
Upon clearing
Vision magnifies
Movement is smooth
Freedom lunges me
Freeing mind and heart
Allowing achievement
Written by E. M. Rushton
July 2019
Jul 12, 2019
Jul 12, 2019 at 8:14 PM UTC
And Mary' said,
**My soul magnifies the Lord ,
and my spirit rejoices in
God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor
on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all
generation will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done
great things for me,
and holy is his name .
His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud
in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly,
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty,
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he
made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his
descendants forever."**
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 12:37 PM UTC
I crave your presence
the energy
which follows you like a shadow
electrifies my body
magnifies
my awareness
which is always
fine tuned
to you
you are
my personal drug
the high
you give me
is unlike any other
excites my body
and my mind
putting me in a daze
so that I
stumble
over words
embarrass myself
you never fail
to leave me
with a colorful
imagination
one filled
with thoughts
of you and me
passion
and lust
paint the scenes
in my mind
tempting me
to tell you to
get to know
me
let your hands
be your eyes
and see
how my body feels
exploring
new territory
relieving
tension
I am hungry
for you
but I wonder
if I ever do
get to have you
will it
spoil
my appetite?
will I
grow accustomed
to your taste
after a few bites
and become bored
discard you
like a half eaten
apple
no longer
hungry
at all?
alas,
I crave you still
you wave hello
and in return
the smile I give you
screams all of this
Jul 16, 2016
Jul 16, 2016 at 11:44 PM UTC
It hurts, it hurts more than when I ended up in hospital, I slipped from the curved metal stairs and cracked all my ribs,
You sat on the frosty steel chair and fed me warm leek soup all day, I was high and *we cracked *** jokes all through the visiting hours*.
Or when I fractured my right leg and couldn’t walk for months, you wheelchaired me to all my revered museums,
And when it rained that evening and I felt trapped and pathetic in the ****** wheelchair,
*You lifted me up and twirled me around and kissed every sore spot in my body including my terrible heart,
Till I started laughing, all giddy and intoxicated with your droplets brushed lips*
Or when I burnt my fingers while making green curry and you had to take me to infirmary,
They bandaged my fingers in bubblegum pink gauze an told me the scars would never leave and I wouldn’t be able to write or hold you for a week,
You made me churros that whole week with Swiss choc dipping and kissed all my scars away, painting vibrant swallows on them.
I loved you, so much it made me insane, but it also made me breathe. Funny, how the direction of the wind has changed.
It hurts now, more than it ever did, I stand on the steps of metropolitan museum of art and the ache in my veins magnifies,
The longing ablaze like all your plaid shirts, nirvana records and all the synthetic lilies you gave me, quoting they will never dry up, Like our love will always remain, burning on my terrace
Funny how, now I don’t believe a sentence you said.
I sing all the songs we loved for the last time, to get it all out, of my system and bleeding heart.
My lips get greedy for the praised lyrics and midnight kisses.
The rocking chair in the balcony swinging in the breezy night I hope it’s you, my eyes left disappointed at the empty gloomy sight
My heart getting accustomed to Bukowski instead of much devoured Rilke.
Sometimes in life you never understand why they left, why it ended all of a sudden?
When did you stop loving me and when all my importance vanished into thin air like you did?
Sometimes all that is left to do is accept it and move on, and that may be the seemingly impossible part.
Sometimes you just have to pour water to the vivid fire for putting gasoline was proving to be poisonous and CHOKING.
Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 6:07 AM UTC
To be haunted
By voices of people
I have known,
But will never meet;
To be drawn
Into worlds
I have explored,
But will never see;
The sheer emotion of reading,
Magnifies and withers across each page;
With ink tearing into our hearts,
Leaving us yearning at each epilogue...
Dec 11, 2021
Dec 11, 2021 at 4:04 PM UTC
The corner street awaits with pride
Raise the palm and wave me hello
As the eyes melt reveal your heart
The smile is the manipulating trap
A stance you gaze magnifies my life
Stay in the zone oozing not snoozing
Disengaged in bases of sinking shells
Float on the wavy stretchy topography
Claim my proponent inside the rigid iris
The splash of the canvas sprays attraction
Alternate the kaleidoscope fluid flashes
A slash, smashing my scepticism cynism
Untitled spiking depths and radiant flames
Erode past the sizzling chargrilled grins
It's in my eyes, my very soul sits and shines
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 12:26 PM UTC
I am the patron saint of lost eyelashes
of foggy cloudless minds
and faded neon piping
of the Ocean's Retreat
of blown out birthday candles
when the wish-maker
never intended.
I am the patron saint of loose boards
creaking and rattling
skeletons
mere shadows of
past grandeur
and the wind quickens
and the light magnifies
and sensation multiplies
but the numbness maintains its steady and resolute path onwards
into the dark coils of the future.
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 3:55 AM UTC
Unresponsive
Silence aching in the pit of my stomach boiling the blood beneath my skin
Raging chaos
Weeping solitude until I fall asleep awaiting an explanation
Shaken glory
Magnifies in the heat of some miscommunication, lack of trust slithering out within each insult
Always trying to defy the laws of gravity
Unable to admit there are no such thing as superheros, magic wands, or even luck
I am bulimic to love and lust and all things good
Allergic to kindness and appreciating and all things right
I always get left in the middle, asking myself
What the hell is wrong with me
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 3:36 AM UTC