"marveling" poems
*Another sleepless night
3am, a bit beyond
the witching hour
A time of quiet reflection
Remembering dreams lost
& Creating dreams to be
Thinking of past sorrows
Anticipating tomorrow's
Joys
Another sleepless night
Contemplating Life's mystery
And
Marveling at the
Wonder of it all...*
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 11:23 PM UTC
It's amazing
How a pair of eyes can enthrall you
I've been watching hers for only minutes
And marveling at everything...
Everything indeed is there
All my terrifying needs
I am thin with worth,
And with a glance
I am pierced by demand
How can I ever delight such majesty?
Gods help me keep her interest
Jun 20, 2015
Jun 20, 2015 at 6:41 PM UTC
there are women who love demons
you can see it in their eyes
like a sick hunger
silence in a straight jacket
smiling limbs on a pyre
staring entranced
whiskey blind
as if marveling
at a howling blood-spattered dingo in a crater
seduced to wander off half-naked into a bush of thorns
********* barbed hooks for heroine kisses
women on fire who believe in nothing
except their atavistic compulsions
they are a burning land
beauty in ruin
ready for the slender whip
and black-toothed kisses
who giggle and then plunge into an abyss
i hold her like a jaw holds teeth
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 3:08 PM UTC
"I LOVE LOVE!" She shouted, speaking to herself in third person.
It was then that she seemed to float away
A balloon on Macy's Day.
*It seemed I was the only one orbiting earth,
watching those performances of daily life applauding
for a well-flipped omelet a superbly
fitted glove a full tank of gas at $4.00.*
I couldn't believe my luck
Terrestrially, there were husks sipping coffee
and rasping and rustling at each other
desiccated.
Privately, she was buying real estate on the moon
I LOVE LOVE! she shouted
Dancing like an egg on a spray of water
a declassified military satellite who through some dumb luck
had escaped the pull of gravity and won
Marveling at the moon rock
on her finger, even a stubbed toe just seemed
like the ideal opportunity for extorting kisses.
And it glinted in the light.
Everything was fine.
*Down on earth it seemed all the wine drinkers
were toasting to us cheering as we terra formed
the moon.* ***We couldn't believe our luck
as we rolled back our stone.***
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 10:07 PM UTC
Trivial beauty holds me captive as i sit near the flower
Reaching towards it, marveling at the colorful rainbow
It flaunts its
Sheer beauty,
Having it wave with the breeze
As i watch
The stripes came to take the juice
And then left to spread more
Lo, the beauty of the stripes and the beauty of its job
I followed. leaving the flower.
Ever so noisily, It buzzed, harmonically, lovingly
it danced in ways that intrigued me
so i left the flower
to pursue my bee
it took me to its hive
but disappeared back to join the others
back to its life
back to her lover
ditching me.
time flew by and by dark
the flower still glows with its rainbow color
no matter what comes to it
it holds itself tall and proud
it stayed in place
waiting for me to come
such purity
i watch
Dawn of fall came, and i opened my ears
As a yellow flower sang nearby
Nevertheless, a sunflower
Ah, yellow was such a pretty color
flower of the sun, reflecting the most powerful object in our vision
this flower had the qualities to shine like one
for it shined so brightly during the day
i started to watch this flower instead
and sing to it, hoping it would grow
cared for it with everything i had
but i failed to find it during the night
for it changed throughout the month, throughout the day
soon i found my efforts were nothing
and that the sunflower was always in its own flock
the yellow flower is still there
always will be
but its petals always faced something else
in the opposite direction
and as soon as i come close to getting it
it turns away, mimicking its sister,
the bee
summer came
and the rainbow flower, it was still here
it never left
why?
confused, i sat
i became sad
why did i leave this flower, ever?
it still stayed
so i've decided to stay.
forever.
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 3:34 PM UTC
She had been at sea for three decades
her first voyage at age eighteen
a week after her marriage
in the year of our Lord 1883
She married a sailing man
captain of his own ship
handsome, bearded and tall
a fine commander of his men
as they searched the sea for whales
She loved life at sea
and could imagine no other
the motion of the ship
the sounds of the rigging and the sails
the quiet companionship
with her husband every evening
She was beloved by her husband’s men
whom she mothered well
having had no sons of her own
but nurtured and healed
patched and sewed
bloodied and broken hearts and men
Often she came out on deck
for she knew when they would find them
and though she was in the stern
and the lookout was high in the crow's nest
she saw many whales they missed
She thrilled each time she saw them
awed by their sheer size
marveling at their strength
humbled by their beauty
careful to hide her feelings
Sometimes she could feel
when a whale would blow
and she would call to the first mate
so the men looked at her
as the whale passed unseen
Most times she silently prayed
willing the lookout to search
the wrong spot of ocean
and felt again the pang
of disloyalty to her husband
for he commanded a whaling ship
But then the lookout's call came
"Thar she blows!"
and the men sprang to action
taking after the whale in longboats
while she escaped below
She had seen before the killing
she would not watch again
too many whales succumbed
to exploding harpoons
and a death horrifyingly cruel
And she wondered
what would happen
if only whales could scream . . .
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 6:49 AM UTC
The seasons circled back again
To touch from start to end
I feel the summer creeping forth;
Its voice is in the wind.
The warmth is like a long lost book
I open once again
To stroke aside each dog-eared page
To see where this began:
Two years ago, two summers past
On morning such as this
The sun was climbing up the sky,
The grass was touched with mist.
I chased the dawn down past the lake
That imitated glass
The early-morning gentle air
Breathed wind, so soft and chaste.
We moved then like the moon and sun,
One far and one behind.
I followed shrinking shadows while
You basked in morning's shine.
A wistful turn would break that spell,
Your warmth was hard to miss
There in the daybreak's balmy air
So fresh, so new, so crisp.
And you- the sun- you rose and came
Like light across the ground
My breathless lips would part in awe,
Yet utter not a sound.
Sweet Sunshine thieved my breath away
And filled my marveling eyes
The once eternal nightingale
Had turned her back on night.
That was the long-lost summer when
All things were then in bloom
The beginning of the ending when
The Sun fell for the Moon.
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 11:12 AM UTC
Stumble forth on rubber legs
When drink perfumes your breath
Search the sky with bleary eyes
And salvage what is left:
Still breathing, speaking, seeing
Still marveling the stars
Still gagging out weak poetry
And tripping out of bars.
One foot before the other
Stagger, step and sway
The wind that croons soft music
Lulls the grief away
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 10:08 PM UTC
Oh, I can smile for you, and tilt my head,
And drink your rushing words with eager lips,
And paint my mouth for you a fragrant red,
And trace your brows with tutored finger-tips.
When you rehearse your list of loves to me,
Oh, I can laugh and marvel, rapturous-eyed.
And you laugh back, nor can you ever see
The thousand little deaths my heart has died.
And you believe, so well I know my part,
That I am gay as morning, light as snow,
And all the straining things within my heart
You'll never know.
Oh, I can laugh and listen, when we meet,
And you bring tales of fresh adventurings, --
Of ladies delicately indiscreet,
Of lingering hands, and gently whispered things.
And you are pleased with me, and strive anew
To sing me sagas of your late delights.
Thus do you want me -- marveling, gay, and true,
Nor do you see my staring eyes of nights.
And when, in search of novelty, you stray,
Oh, I can kiss you blithely as you go ....
And what goes on, my love, while you're away,
You'll never know.
4.4k
I happened by a store one day, it was to the side of the road and out of the way. Inside were many curious things. On a shelf, by an old wooden bench, I saw a worn out pair of shoes for sale. I couldn't help but notice how the laces were worn bear and how the souls were almost worn through. I ask the man behind the counter, how much the shoes were and he said for you just a few dollars will do. I considered the purchase and tried them on my feet. The shoes fit perfectly, which was a surprise to me. I ask who used to own the shoes and the man said a potter I think. He wore them as he traveled around finding broken things to fix. I thought about it some more and decide I would buy the shoes. I paid the man and left with them on. They were very comfortable and as I walked down the street, I met a man who looked like he could use something to eat. I offered him a kind word and gave him a few dollars, then I went on my way. I thought nothing of my actions. As time went on, it seemed that each day brought something new. A person in need of a kind word or a helping hand. For years I wore the old shoes, but they never seemed to wear out. Though I had many other pairs, they just sat collecting dust. Then one day a young man came by as I was sitting on my front porch. The shoes were sitting on a table beside me and the young man asked me about them, so I told him the story. Marveling at what I said, he seemed anxious to try the shoes on. I let him and they fit perfectly on him as they once did me. He asked if he could buy them and I told him the price. He paid me a few dollars and was on his way. That night as I lay sleeping, I began to dream and I saw the man who had sold me the shoes. He was wearing robes, dressed all in white with a radiant face that shone like the sun. As I felt peace come over me, I saw him wearing the old pair of shoes and he said to me child well done.
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 11:38 PM UTC
a
rainbow
came into view
as the hikers
trudged the high hill
its colors were dazzling
they stood for many a minute
marveling at its bright palette
no handsome *** of gold could be seen
but nature had provided a grand scene
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 7:37 AM UTC
Panic's jewel...
Or, is that pride?
Poor relenting, to you...
The question of irony on your side?
Places and things, together
With a real appetite for life's regency
So, sophisticated, the liberty of kind to bother
An open air, of a wish that found deception's history...?
My undone mercy, my marveling hope
Is with a ghost of a chance, the truth
In a guarded fist, to promise a shared cope?
If any pout of lore, is a wish that sought your youth...
I will follow...
Despairing consciences, with a blinking stare at honor
That defies home for one thing only, that is to harrow...
The dread in a tear, found for a salt that told a story:
Once upon a time, and the tenderness of couth
To wake upon a simple bed, the taste of harmony in league
With itself, the role of unity and vice, come the riches of who
Is a part defined, and who is a smarter focus divine, of each?
Which will the tows of remorse...
Work as we said, they have the skill's of duress to laud
And heraldry of a looming proportion, to understand the worse
The life of another lords prophet, the can and the callous odd...
Here is such, the lies or levity we fate
With a rekindled fire, for what is a stranger look, of desperation
Sincerity or since charity is a fool for itself, the world of sate
Is a kindness only a lover could afford, the very gift of intimation?
Tomorrow?
And the ides of heathen politeness, are here
To simply move forward and borrow
The truth in an order and repute, that has oneself to bless, with another's fear...?
Jun 25, 2022
Jun 25, 2022 at 1:25 AM UTC
floating like the planets
our mouths twitch and our teeth
shine like venus
the love goddess hangs alone in space
light screams in the skies
end this venusian nightmare
and we admire the beauty of her desperate plea
marveling at how bright she is
brighter than our smartphones and
the dim reflection of the limelight in our eyes
our own citrus dreams tangy
with the kisses born in tearducts
and lit up by the cries of venus
please
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 7:04 PM UTC
You hate when I stare--
Those long, unwavering looks that let me feel like I’m touching your soul,
they’re my favorites.
But you don’t get it…
Don’t get that I’m marveling at you
Your words, your mind, your gestures,
The way your lips melt into your cheeks
and your eyelashes curl so far they touch your skin,
or how your entire face softens when you smile.
I’m memorizing you:
Line by nose,
curve by smile.
I stare because I want to hold your waist,
to touch your arm,
to feel your hand around my shoulder.
I stare because I’m dying.
What is it now?
Is my love too strong?
Do I expect too much?
Have you forgotten about me again?
It feels that way…
As I crave the warmth of your remembrance
someone else has caught your smile
and I have slipped your mind.
It’s understandable, really—
Or can I be so understanding?
You are it for me.
I wake from dreams about you only to curl into the cool, crisp spot where you should be lying in my bed.
I eat breakfast and wonder what you’re doing;
I listen to music to ponder how you feel.
When I’m upset yours is the first number I want to call
and my delight is yours to share.
You have the power to move and remove me
because I will always fall into you and yours.
There is so much to say…
But sometimes I just stare;
I stare because I’m dying.
Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 7:21 PM UTC
You were amazing, I’d like to think so.
While you constantly scorned your finest poems
I’d squander on the disincentive ruins of a thoughtless mind
coaxing my envy to calm.
I longed to see what you saw and how you saw it.
You became the conquest,
the prize of my eyes, to affection’s surprise.
I started playing with words and sentences I had never read nor said before,
reading Plath and Baudelaire to join in your mind’s conversation.
Always striving to surpass your expectations of me, expecting nothing.
I gazed at you often, marveling at your squalor as if it held great significance.
Infatuated with your capricious mind, your pathetic whims, I craved for your approval.
For you, were the idol.
A far cry from the adolescent shell of a man that I cocooned in.
Jealousy would eventually consume me.
No manner of abuse or lust could explain
this psychotic affection towards your promiscuous apathy.
I started writing poems because of you, they were never any good,
I feared my crudity; you liked them all.
You always knew what they spoke of and I could never imagine yours.
But to you every opinion mattered.
The truth was still writing itself in your mind when you chose to fritter away
fornicating on all fours secretly, desperately, looking for the one.
Would you give it all up to write again?
I apologize for not telling you,
you were my first poem
I couldn’t impress you.
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 5:15 AM UTC
In summers past, hot and hazy,
we wandered northern shorelines,
sand whipping salt brine and
vinegar enveloped, marveling that
even the Amish possess swimwear.
I lingered at the taffy shop,
toe-raised peering through smudged
glass and candy bins, spying
both worker and robo-worker
pulling long tough ropes of
salty confection and memory.
Our time on the path is pulled taffy,
event-pummeled, tugged asunder,
reunited bittersweet.
baked boardwalk beneath feet,
cobbled personality planks
stretching taffy of time
In summers past I was there.
In summers present i am there.
In summers beyond we are back
there once again
folded and kneaded
smiling, reunited.
This is the back-end of forever,
yet do not fear;
the dying of the light
is the dawning of the dusk:
a wheel that we spin,
a point that we traverse,
a keeping of a promise,
a memory of a scent,
a vision of disorder,
and the chaos in the calm.
Cower.
Rejoice.
Repeat.
Amen.
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 8:34 PM UTC
I should be studying right now.
I wanted to leave to game
Gaming is how I cope,
Yeah, I suppose that’s lame.
Instead of finishing my study,
My science work
(which was due a week ago,
But that I never did.)
I am pretending to be busy.
The Play Station was taken,
So now I sit here
Alone
And cold.
I’m marveling at the ring you gave me,
Tightening the bracelet strings
And checking the clasp of the necklace,
And thinking of the happiness it can bring.
I suppose I am upset.
Really badly upset.
And I thought of all people, I could talk to you,
Because everyone seems to be calling me a failure
Or making me feel like one.
Instead you don’t want to talk to me.
So I’m looking at the pictures from you I have.
The one you drew of us kissing,
The note in Elvish.
The skull you turned my eye picture into.
I’m holding two screws,
Thinking of you
And what more I can do.
And your copper tiger
And that pink stone.
Reminding me how badly I want to be “home”
I’m upset- but most of it is pride.
The fact that instead of asking explanation
You automatically assumed I’d lied.
But instead of sitting here studying
Or crying more
Or feeling bad and apologizing again
And again.
Or cursing your name and pretending you don’t exist,
I’m remembering I love you.
Because I do
I always do.
You’re sick of me right now-
By all means push me away.
Just tell me you’re okay in the morning,
Or you’re not okay.
And if you still don’t want to talk- tell me.
And I’ll be upset, of course I will.
But I’ll shut up and give you the space you need,
And I won’t apologize again, because that seems to annoy you.
Until then, I must get some sleep (if I can indeed, sleep)
Goodnight,
I love you.
Even though you’re not in the mood for me,
And I’m a little sick of you.
Because most of all- I’m just worried,
And I’m just not good at situations.
Feb 2, 2013
Feb 2, 2013 at 9:41 PM UTC
two marbles blinked
and stared,
marveling at the wondrous visions
inside her mind.
the arches
of her brows,
so frail -
so concise -
furrowed like a busy caterpillar
longing for metamorphosis.
a shimmering wheat field of strands
caressed her
jawline so
graciously,
wild and free
just like her soul;
wanderlust for an eternity
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 11:06 PM UTC
*It’s raining, drizzling
I am walking in the rain.
The heavens are weeping gracefully
Their faces hidden from sight
I dance and prance in the rain
In jovial nonchalance, lost in thought
Wondering, marveling and wringing my mind dry
Why the heavens are beside themselves
In such an out-pour of emotion.*
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 7:01 AM UTC
O! Beloved, O! Beloved who created the sun,
Created the atoms, and made the stars.
When we are united, Beloved, I will see your light,
Majestic than the sun, and I will be free of my desires
As the morning sun frees the lilies from the night.
O! My Beloved, I was not in existence but then You
Fashioned me and brought me to witness Your
Beauty. I am in awe of Your beauty, o! Beloved.
They say it is a gift, but you said it is a test.
O Beloved, guide me in this test you put me in.
O! My Beloved, O! Beloved that is not imperfect
I have been conquered by my ego yesterday
But to you I return and bow to purify myself,
Praise upon you after marveling at your beauty and mercy,
Your Mercy that is greater than the milk of a mother.
O! My Beloved, O! Beloved who said and wrote the first,
There is a longing inside me that all the wideness of
Life can’t give an answer to. O Beloved, I await
For my meeting with you to fill me,
As you fill the bellies of the birds, but eternally!
O! My Beloved, O! Beloved that is forever infinite
I have known but so little, expand me, my Beloved
As you have made the seas so wide to contain the
Liquid. So that I will know you more and contain
More of your love in my expanding self.
O! My Beloved, my beloved, break me if that will
Open me to you. A seeker of light will accept
Everything that has come to cleanse him of his
Darkness. For your mercy, give me soft cleansing
With the water of kindness, and breeze of love.
O! My Beloved, Beloved, with questions comes wandering,
And it is with wandering that then come answers.
The more I wander and seek, the more I get closer.
O! Beloved, I long for the taste of the moment when
I will arrive at the hall of those that have arrived.
O! My Beloved, O my Beloved that guides the seeker
If I get all that I seek in the moment of a wish,
Then there wouldn’t be all the wonders of seeking,
But you know, guide my way, O Guider of wayfarers,
As you have done to the path of those You have blessed.
O my beloved, I am like a river, O my beloved!
My existence is like a river and you are the Ocean.
I am flowing from you, and then back to you,
Accompany my flow in daytime with the sun of Your
Love, and at night with the moon of your mercy.
Dec 16, 2021
Dec 16, 2021 at 6:56 PM UTC
"We fit together so nicely,"
You said
And I completely agree
Something so right, so meant to be.
It starts with a sweat
And a intense wash of cold
In reaction to the heat
On the inside of me.
A shiver-- or two
Quaking my form
And there you are
Between my thighs.
I'm holding my breath
Or I'm breathing heavy
And I'm biting my lip
Cause it feels so nice.
We fit together like puzzle pieces
Rocking and stretching our limbs
Colliding in a moment
Of a rising ******
Then it comes quick
Only a split second to think
To realize what is really happening
Just long enough to react.
Starting with a flicker
Of a fiery sensation
Between my legs
And it spreads, like a wildfire
It pops
Explodes
And I feel it everywhere
A release.
My muscles ****
And it's like I'm trying to escape from my own skin
My jaw clenches
Then goes slack.
My eyes roll
My mind a kaleidoscope of thoughts
There's no sense of control
Just waves of reactions upon reactions.
A thousand different tickles
Down my thighs and to my toes
Like the sensation of warm water
When you're bitterly cold.
After the initial shake of the explosion
My mind is useless
And I have to put myself back in my body
Because for a moment I was free.
The tension is gone
Every part of me is loose
And everything is sensitive and temperamental
Like a candles flame.
For a moment there's nothing
Nothing but my body
No mind
No thoughts
No silly people things
Just the raw
The primal
The true being I am
And I see you..
You're between my thighs
Starstruck by the moment
Marveling at my body
As it rolls into yours.
I'm ****** back into the act
Like a magnet to it's kind
And you're so ******* beautiful
And you're all mine
And here, right now
We're one.
My body is powerless to you
And yours is powerless to me
We don't speak
We simply feel
And that's a closeness most don't achieve.
A bond
Like no other
Body
And mind.
"We fit together so nicely,"
You said
And I completely agree
Something so right, so meant to be.
Jan 14, 2011
Jan 14, 2011 at 8:13 PM UTC
Flowers to drown in the pond,
Frogs to make a blood bond,
Hysterics and cruelty,
I laughed, making it echo in the tree trunk,
Forgetting classes I just flunked,
I rolled in the grass,
smelling the green and powdered glass,
Ignoring cuts on the nose,
Went to frolic in the pink garden rose,
‘Ere I saw a red-black, lovely beetle,
Snickering at me,
Showing it’s needle,
Curiosity, red-sight,
Taking it in my hand,
Marveling at innocence,
I closed the trap, feeling the beetle decay to strands,
Despite my mind, my blue heart shed a tear,
So lovely the beetle,
Without a blue-black fear,
So quickly the light rolled away,
Murrain of regret, the cruelty that once was disappears,
Inside me lays moths and trolls,
And now,
The lovely beetle’s soul.
-Firefly
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
The cheery, bronze bell heralds our coming--
A stout, brown man, a happy Buddha wearing my father’s vest
And his diminutive daughter, a caramel girl with inquisitive eyes
Marveling over the lush painted settings
The tapestries of women with slanted eyes,
Sitting precariously on rocks, surrounded by wild ocean-foam
Mermaid mistresses I imagine
With long golden nails,
A holy temple atop each brow, an adorning crown
Past the multicolored, patterned elephants
And silk orchid flowers,
Gliding across dark, cherry-chocolate wood
Lacquered, glossy as her watching eyes
As if all were coated with amber honey-sap
They take their thrones.
The windows are draped in lace and purple
The color of monarchs, even the plump, crystal glasses
Shine pale maroon, like African violets, in their elegance
And a Bengal Sugar Sweet Tiger, swims in each cup
Dusky orange, as a faded sunset
Belly up he is curled, exposing white soft cream…
And florescent rice crackers
Lie popped in a porcelain dish
Stiff and bright,
Like skeleton jellyfish, frozen
In mid-propelled undulation,
About to escape
Before they are dipped and broken
In sticky pepper, gold-gilded sauce
Rich curries; satay, with alien names
Are laid before them, feast upon feast
Savory meats and vegetables soaked in vinegars;
A parade of colors and textures and tastes
Every plate garnished, an artwork…
And while she surveys this domain,
In all its tiny grandeur, a feeling of
Dignity creeps down her shoulder, straightens her spine
To think that part of her is from such a kingdom
Though she might never see it
To still feel like royalty,
The Queen of Siam.
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 2:23 PM UTC