"marianas" poems
Deepest point on the earths surface,
many fear the mere sight of this.
To where the sea caves dip
down into the earths core,
God only knows what nature
truly has in store down there.
But if I had to choose
a way to die?
I'd sink myself to its depths
without a care
to have my final moments
of life in me witnessing
some of the greatest
visual wonders,
a living masterpiece
century old mystery,
the heart of the seas.
Would be the only
way in my final moments of life,
I could pass peacefully.
If the mother waters
call her daughters
back to the abyss of
Marianas bottomless arteries,
take no time nor pride in looking
you know exactly where to find me.
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 11:34 PM UTC
To captivate someone the way
You do
Is an art form many never learn to master.
With eyes deeper than the Marianas trench
Your being
Just draws me like a moth to a flame.
To make someone feel the way
You make me feel
Makes me wonder how many ages
You've experienced.
A soul so ablaze no person would know you and not be warm.
The strength of nations upon nations
To carry the weight of the world and
You still grow.
The confidence and grace that
You move
With, can't even be challenged by Aphrodite herself.
With cheeks if crimson and eyes of ice
Your joy
Makes the rest of life seem baron.
Leaving me
wanting
Craving
Thirsty
Starved
And lucky
To know a woman of your sheer
Prowess.
May 15, 2019
May 15, 2019 at 12:21 PM UTC
When you first look her in the eyes and admire the way they shine in the moonlight,
look deeper than the iris and drown in her pupil
as it is dark and it is deep, and it is similar to that of the Marianas trench itself.
When you get deep inside her brain, you will see the monsters that man cannot at first glance.
It gets so somber that your heart will get heavy and your palms will sweat,
you will repeatedly want to turn and you will want to run away,
but don’t.
Because these thoughts are not demons after you,
they are attacking her relentlessly and while she does not need a hero,
a helping hand won’t hurt.
She is not helpless, but she is also not safe
and she is afraid, and she is hiding from them.
So when she flinches away from your touch,
be gentle.
Like the breeze she feels when she opens her window on a late August night to feel something other than the stillness of her room
and to remind herself she is not just imagining her existence.
Remember that she has been through her share of nightmares like you, and while some may not be as bad, they are incredibly real to her.
Remember that she needs someone to love just as much as you.
Do not think this is a demand you love her when she has no one else,
just open your mind and your heart because that skinny girl with tired eyes is one of the most beautiful you’ll ever meet
and you will remember her for years to come.
Please, be gentle for she is fragile.
She is cracked, but has been dropped and broken so many times, the pain is not as bad,
the hurt is not such a surprise.
Do not let her be surprised if you stay when she expects you to go, because she will,
she will assume, she will get weak and she will picture you leaving when she needs you most
or she will try to push you away,
but remember her smile and remember her face because every actress is told they have so much to love but that does not mean they are all in bliss.
You’re the polish on her scuffed up shoes,
you’re the sun peeking through her blinds on a cool summer morning,
you’re the reminder that it will all be okay,
So long as you don’t run.
When you meet a girl
with shaky hands and a faint heart,
remember that she can get stronger again.
You are not her crutches, but you are support.
Do not think her life depends on you, because it doesn't.
Never put that on yourself.
You are not a superhero, but you can be her helping hand
If you remember
that it’s alright to stay.
I’m scared, too.
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
Lady from deepest dirt, deeper than the ocean, denser than Marianas Trench, speaks so proper, in a sweet subtle voice: “I do.”
Gentleman from highest sky, higher than the clouds, brighter than the morning star, speaks so assertive in a firm and quiet whisper: “I do.”
No hesitation in either of their voices, as always they give off the radiant atmospheric glow of love. In their lives, long lasting is his proposal, long lasting is her gaze.
The greatest of events is this wedding, greater than time itself.
He is a ‘gift from God’ to her, and he forever ‘excels’ to stay by with her.
He dreamt of her before, but never like this, she fantasized her wedding but never dreamt of him.
Can there be anything more right than the love of husband and wife?
Can there be anything more right than the pact they have formed?
Can there be any place more special than the familial bond?
If there is than by the magnitude of heaven, it should be destroyed.
Hope is so well-founded, faith is so assured, joy is so abundant, but love creates them all.
He never lost trust in her, she always felt rested in his arms.
Kisses always tenderly embraced, a long ogle at all times; every coming together.
He stands always ***** never bended to one knee, she understood as the love they share together was and is always never traditional.
They understand each other with little but a gaze, they care for so little else but their love.
No necessary dreams of the future anymore; fantasies are now their reality.
Dreams exist outside of the head: the nightmares will be fought together.
The dragon is far from slain, but together they ward it off as one.
One flesh, One soul, One mind, One heart, all fighting together.
The battle will be forever, but Love never fails.
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:46 AM UTC
Flow Like Fluid Concept by Jay Byrne of Eclectic.Collective.
"text" Jay byrne text Mr.Sandman
-------------------
I flow like fluid. I do it. You knew it.
The cryptic, mystic, Celtic Druid. rpt x 1
--------------------
"Bring them all on, mix them in me cauldron.
Brewin' up a batch o' bad beats to call on.
Broth's bubblin'. Brewin' up, rumblin'.
I try avoid trouble in me hometown Dublin.
I'm a pacifist. I take the ****
Spit like a basilisk. A rhyme alchemist.
An optimist when the chips are down.
Smoke verbs like herbs the proverbial clown.
I get a notion. Pure emotion.
Check out me rhyme. Poetry in motion.
Behold me ocean. Come in it's fine.
Jay's The Name, I'll take you Deep Into The Rhyme.
So deep.
Put your back to me brother cos me brother I keep.
No sleep now it's on with the show.
Feel the beat now I'm lettin' you know. That"..
-------------------
"..I flow like fluid. I do it. You knew it.
The cryptic, mystic, Celtic Druid."
--------------------
*Grrr...I flow like fluid. I do it,you knew it,
the Poseidon Adventure,Marianas Trencher,
I flow like fluid. I do it,you knew it,
the Poseidon Adventure,Marianas Trench-yeah*
-------------------------------------------
*Welcome to the Maelstrom,event horizon,
barometer's droppin,ears poppin,the pressure is risin,
yours widen in surprise as you enter the eye of the perfect storm,
beneath the surface beyond the norm,
moments ago the surface was placid and warm,
Now the Sandman's here...Sea's turbulent,
sound the alarm,
too late wrong Siren,your crew is all charmed,
chain yourself to the mast spindrift whips past,
as I froth up the sea's with my breath,
mermaids approach eyes promising caresses of death,
whether Mariner or Sub Mariner,you're no challenger,
Architeuthis is toothless but it still strangles ya,
Mangle ya drags ya down to the Abyss,
welcome to my realm,hear the crackle and hiss,
Neptune's risin,rhyme's sussurus surprisin'-you're caught on my Trident,
______--__________________-___________
*Cause I flow like fluid. I do it,you knew it,
Poseidon Adventure,Marianas Trencher,
I flow like fluid. I do it,you knew it,
the Poseidon Adventure,Marianas Trench-yeah*
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 11:27 PM UTC
those are very sharp apples. bobbing for catheters and chasms have their own parabolas
or might you think your urchin skin; the pinnacle of passive violence
in the **** kingdom of your vibration
in the valley of our entropy.
the Either Nor'easter
of our zero degrees
West.
Due South of Sound Reason.
the locals call " the sound "
where the heads pool the dark waters of our consciousness
and eddies abide beneath the radiant dirge
of sweet sweet life, and singing blue whale pods in the dodgy brush-fires
of our Marianas Trench-coat Lining
the vocals explode the random and un-cloaked , it disappears as phenomenal
and all men seize the kelp beds of our delirium
with bashful wisdom.
I press my lips against your wet yes! and all this is January-nettles for jam.
for all seasons.
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 10:17 AM UTC
Some recite distant waves of their time lines in a scatter
Repressed memories that come and go and fluculate with chaos
Mine are in order, like a precise file cabinet of a New York court house A through Z
1 to a million plus more filed in rigid manor
The room they lie in remains untouched on most occasions
It’s rare for me to make a visit,
But the grey cast of pulverous dust keeps people away
Including myself
Oddly enough, I wish I had the time to extinguish those files,
And completely erase everything that exists
And co-exists together within label
To revive and produce anew set of secrets
That bask in a solar energy structured room
With windows of 8 feet in height or more
So that the sun can give off a plentiful suppelment of vitamins
To keep the energy alive
To have nothing to hide
And showcase my pieces elegantly
For everyday shoppers to stop and glance,
A few applauds here and there as well
To jazz the setting up a tad
But unlike like most
I place the past so far back
It’s like the Rossetta Stone
Before she was found
All over again
When it’s finally discovered, I warn,
It will be rickety and impassible for any eyes,
News papers,
Or media to surpass
Almost as if a high ranked prison
Has just unshackled it’s most dangerous inmate
Set free on good behavior
How unfair the system can be, let alone unnerving
For now my files stay clouded and sunk
Farther than the Marianas Trench
With thousands of species undiscovered
Inaccessible to even think about attaining
So don’t worry about my inner demon being unleashed
Good behavior on good,
It's always on it’s worst.
Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 1:41 PM UTC
I am a daughter
I am a sister
I am a friend
I am a woman
I am a Chamorro woman
I am a Chamorro-Japanese woman
I am a woman of Guahån
I am a woman of the Marianas Islands
My ancestors walked these roads as I do now
They sweat under the same sun as I
They protect me when danger is near
They bless me with guidance
But the military takes that away
They are turning the land of my ancestors in shooting ranges
They took my family's land
They took what wasn't theirs to take
My island, my language, my culture, they are all slipping away into oblivion because Mother Guahån is being destroyed
Prutehi yan defendi i kultura
(Protect and defend your culture)
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 3:49 PM UTC
strange
isn’t it
how
memories
pique our moods like
mountains
bursting
through the
stratosphere
only to be sent
plummeting to the
depths of an
abyss
darker
and
deeper
than Marianas Trench
at the flip of a
switch
subtle triggers
found in the way
someone laughs
or when a co-worker
grins
out of the corner of
his or her
mouth
i see you
in the characters of the
literature and
films we used to critique
over coffee
hiding in the vestiges
of Daenerys Targaryen
or
Mélanie Laurent
you are France
an entire country
unto yourself
the smell of the sea
clings to your skin cells
in ways i
only wish
i could
you are in every
solitary
letter of Helvetica
whispering
softly
of things that
were
of things that
are
and of some things that
have not yet come to pass
you float
in the carcinogenic smoke
of cigarettes
a silhouette
corporeal particles
i exorcise
with equal parts
relief
and
regret
every night that i
paint the town
in neon colors
of vibrant life
i write your name
when i
vandalize
and fantasize
that you are
somehow with me
maybe floating happily
in the molecules
of aerosol
spreading across the
concrete
you’re in every song
by Brand New
like the residue of
dew drying on
the leaves
in the
mid-morning
light
lingering
even as
the sun calls you
home
the way i lingered
on your doorstep
to make sure that
you made it safely
back inside your
home
i’ve come to find that
i am equal parts
melancholy
and
blithe
and
i think that i
can finally say
i’m getting better
but
to borrow
a page
from Vonnegut
i’d be lying if
i said i didn’t still
catch
myself feeling
sorry
about the things that
no longer
matter
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 10:11 AM UTC
I toss my solitude down,
let it mingle with my insomniac
let it mingle with my rubble,
There is something
submerged
beneath my --
human, make me
the red of desert earth
until I crumble into
cactus spines and skeletons,
I wasn't meant
to stay here for so long
There is a catch
swimming with my organs,
it pulls when I breathe
through it, I never wanted
to see what
falling
would be like
until I saw the holes
they drilled into your spine
Your leather-spun
heart, it aches
like a sunrise,
I knew a wanting
in your chest
that stayed
hungry,
you were always
hungry
for something
I don't think you ever found,
Because there is a sand
beneath your fingernails
that doesn't rub away,
I have a dust storm
waiting in my belly,
there is a lust there
that is deeper
than the Marianas trench,
And someday, God will loop
his fingers through yours,
and he will whisper in your ear:
"Come. I can tell you
what they died for."
Apr 25, 2012
Apr 25, 2012 at 10:58 PM UTC
When you think that you have remained at Peace,
Here comes the War Cause.
Due to his Impedious Actions and Words
Has caused an Impenetrable Rising -
An ******** unworthy to be erected,
Which ought to be torn apart piece-by-piece.
It is the TINGE - that Nerve which makes
You do just that.
It is he, that made you Scream like a Cat -
Angered by the Mouse
To which transfers the same Range at his
Own Spouse.
It is he, that makes Hypocrisy victorious
And free.
It is he, that projects Visions and Sights
You could hardly see.
Because you could not see it all
For it still rests within your Heart.
No-one loves the Heat of Hatred
Or the Sourey Taste of Anger.
Worse, his or her Voice
Expressing uncontrollable Temper.
(Or Things either with big or little Difference.)
Yet still, it is the Reason. And that Tinge
Proves it so.
And as a Result the Latter begins to Dream.....
Deteriorate and worst let you feel low;
Deeper than Beelzebub's main Majestic;
Deeper than the Marianas itself.
The Tinge of Heart - so Strong to Hinder
And so Weak to be Awared.
Responses, Sympathy are the only Cures
Of these Tinges. And now its Reputation
Has been Saved from the Infamous Hinges.
Now that Tinges can have a Good Side -
Does Temper have.....?
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 3:22 PM UTC
He danced in light, son of the Wind,
And colored the minds below.
She was too deep, locked in herself,
But he still had inarticulately tried
To convey his longing in light.
When he asked the girl
What her name was, she replied,
"I am the Marianas Trench,"
And he blinked, smashing lashes
In a vain effort
To extract an answer not forthcoming.
She gazed blankly, concealing
Three million dying hopes
Faintly sparkling within her depths.
He bashfully cast his eyes
Downward to conceal his own
Inner turmoil.
"I am the Aurora Borealis,"
He finally yelped as his fingers drummed
Notes in the tension between them.
A light flickered across her
Black eyes, flitting to his own.
Quickly extinguished, it
Carried within it her slipped
Composure and raw yearning.
He drew breath, and the coronas
Of his eyes slid to meet hers,
Blank once more.
Before she could bolster
Her dwindling courage,
He was leaving, taking with
Him all her color.
"Don't!" She pleaded.
Her cheeks flushed magenta.
He blanched, his eyes dark.
But he was far from her,
Shrouded in light
That could never color
The stone walls she built.
Miles high, she hoped
They touched his sky someday.
Until then, she was hidden,
Sound, and he was brilliant, lost.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 2:35 AM UTC
"You have a nice smile", She said
No! Don't give me hope
Don't make me happy
I know how this ends.
Soon, You'll realize
My heart masks a hole
As deep as the Marianas Trench
There's nothin here but Melancholy & Madness
Nov 12, 2021
Nov 12, 2021 at 5:46 AM UTC
Don't wait for me
to come to the surface.
There is a lifetime of possibility
here on the ocean floor.
Let me be
the bottom-dweller
first discovered by submarine.
The darkness is not
as intimidating
as it may seem.
Don't feel around for my body
with your feet.
You won't find me in the shallow end
of the sea;
walk down the gradual slope,
where there is no air left to breath.
Over the mountains and hills
and great plains, then you'll find me
Seven miles deep
in the Marianas Trench.
Then you'll understand my immense stress.
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 1:31 PM UTC
•
My love for you,
Is as unfathomable,
As the MARIANAS TRENCH,
*That even I myself,
Have insufficient words,
To utter,
Of how much I truly love and care for you.*
My love for you,
Is as lofty as the SKY,
*It's like if I could collect,
All the helium gases in my world,
I'll let you soar high,
And feel how skyscraping,
My love is, like the lofty sky above you.*
My love for you,
Is as wide the universe,
*Immeasurable,
And indescribable.*
with love <3
© Earl Jane
♥ E.J.C.S.
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 8:33 AM UTC
She is not a spotless ******
not a flawless bride
not without blemish
not young and in her prime.
Her scars are like canyons cut in her skin
the Grand Canyon
Zion Canyon
the Marianas Trench.
Her skin it ripples with stretch marks
like hills rising and falling
ridges and valleys
from the moment of plates.
In her sickness a fever rages
like wildfires and forest fires
grass fires and oil fires
burning away the sickness bringing new life.
She hasn’t shaved and seldom does
hair standing up on her skin
like trees and bushes and shrubs
uneven all different covering her skin.
Blood and **** bubble up from her skin
blood spewing forth like lava
flowing down the mountains of Hawaii
**** shooting forth like ash covering the land.
She is not spotless not flawless not young
but the scars of her age show her beauty
each scar a work of art adding to her perfection
Would we have the Earth any other way?
Dec 29, 2011
Dec 29, 2011 at 5:09 PM UTC
I want someone, someone to appreciate my personal hurricane of emotions; and embrace them like the captain of a ship. Floating in the seas of blankets we'll engulf ourselves in. On those days when this giant puzzle we call life, just clicks. When it's not constantly rearranging or changing or moving. It's just still. I need someone who will grow flowers in the darkest places of my soul, In the Marianas Trench of my mind and they will grow until my body is made from them. My vascular system entirely replaced by stems. Buds blooming until I am made of nothing but your attachment. You'll be the roots to the complex structure I call home.
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 8:45 PM UTC
"And now I do want you to know I'd hold you up above everyone.
And now I do want you to know I think you'd be good to me
And I'd be so good to you"
- Marianas Trench
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 2:15 AM UTC
They start small, the cracks.
So small you barely feel them.
But gradually,
they set in,
growing larger each day.
So the cracks are no longer cracks,
they're fissures,
then valleys,
until there are hundreds of
Marianas Trenches
criss-crossing your heart.
Your patch work is useless.
You can't tell their beginning from their end.
The only option left is to
live with them
and wonder
how your heart manages to beat,
how your lungs fill with air,
how your legs can still propel you forward
when you feel like you're
suspended in time.
Feb 10, 2014
Feb 10, 2014 at 9:59 PM UTC
Like a jagged little pill
and a dream
you are.
sealed off from me
but such a big part of me now.
You're jagged and sharp and full of deep crevices and holes
that need mending
work for the careful, tender
hands of an artist
but you cut me
bit me, gnash at me and then gnaw
like jaws you are
you have taken a huge, jagged chunk of my flesh
flesh full of my essence and spirit, out of me
and flecks of spittle and anger still mar my face
like lines of war, like scars, like the Marianas Trench
like a green line down my forehead, nose, lips, chin
dividing it…and this was supposed to be love.
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 1:15 PM UTC
I will softly pull away
In this broken beautiful mess I've made
And in the dead and quiet I will slowly fade
In this masterpiece I made
I'll burn out and slip away
And this just a part I portray
You're beautiful, can I hide in you and stay here?
Making mostly to themselves
Hush now they'll hurt you till your heart melts
They know you're lonely
And they will only break your heart
And this masterpiece will tear you apart
I'll burn out and slip away
And this just a part I portray
You're beautiful,
Can I hide in you and stay here?
Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 11:01 PM UTC
I know that you're beautiful,
though I don't know HOW beautiful
you are.
And I know the Marianas Trench is deep
but I don't know HOW deep
it is.
And like those explorers of the oceans.
Which took them years to even fathom just a portion of its great magnitude.
And I bet it'd take me even more to find out HOW beautiful you are, and to be honest I wouldn't mind taking my time.
Just hoping I'd be doing it by your side.
I want to see the funniest crap with you. Experience the happiest moments with you, play pranks on people with you, stay indoors and listen to music while reading books on a rainy day with you.
Make catastrophic mistakes by your side,
you're the person I want to bring with
to food trips around the countryside.
Make a fool of myself while you're around, find places to go on dates in town.
Take pictures with you beside some generic sunset,
paint watercolor pictures to hang on your bed.
I want to share my life with you.
The person I'd leave the last potato chip for, leave just a bit of toothpaste for.
The person I'd keep the last swig of starbucks or dap of peanut butter for.
I want to watch movie credits beside you so I have a stupid reason for us to sit together longer.
Let you pick your favorite movie when theres a sale,
I'd even pay for bail.
But most of all I want to see you smile, see you happy and just joyful. I don't even have to be the reason for it.
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 7:43 AM UTC
Sneaking glances from the other side of the hallway
I smile desiringly to myself.
All I really want is to call you mine.
To hold your lithe body against my own.
To press my lips to yours.
To grab your hand and never let go.
Your eyes are as deep as the Marianas Trench
And as warm as a fire in the middle of winter.
I feel like you wear a cloak of depression and silence
But I know that deep within your veiled form
There is a bright sun wanting only to shine through
It does get its way sometimes
When a truly happy smile works its way to your face.
I know where you're coming from
We're alike in so many ways....
If only the space between us was gone.
Sep 3, 2011
Sep 3, 2011 at 9:24 PM UTC
When I'm not proud of some of what I have written,
I make myself stay quiet and say,
That you have to write to improve.
When I think "you haven't seen any of my best" (- Marianas Trench, Josh Ramsay),
I tell myself that's okay,
Because I still have the rest of a lifetime
To prove what I'm capable of,
And the only person I need to prove that to:
Is myself.
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 2:42 AM UTC
It’s not so scary down here
Rock bottom has a queer feel
Pressures of a reality you deny
Become too obviously real
Eyes pierce the veil seeking light yet
You’re no longer the passive observer
Down here you’re forced to face yourself
Don’t look away lest you be the loser
Oct 15, 2020
Oct 15, 2020 at 6:40 PM UTC