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"millennium" poems
A dream dreamt for a millennium Everyday oozing away as I badgered and prayed For one splendiferous day To feel limitless and ecstatic in my cranium. Suddenly, my dream came to fruition All this time was worth the anticipation My brittle bones became strong through elation My every cell frenetic with love's constitution. The dream fulfilled Vanished without warning Soaking my heart in distrust and mourning Creating in the center of my mind an emptiness so still.
0
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 10:49 PM UTC
Dream Fulfilled; Dream Vanished
What? well don't be shocked, it's genetic coded, drilling for dimples my parents did it to me, down the food chain, for a millennium, Baby Boomers, Millennials, Gen X, Gen Y, Gen Z it will be done forever, auto-naturally place the pointer finger gently upon each cheek, commence so soft digging, twisting for the oil of human smiles, the reward, astonishing! a shocking discovery made this morn! *you can do it too "going up the stairs," to Grandmas, Nana's, if you catch them, and with extra care spent, soft so soft when they are just waking up, when their inner kid is sleepy showing* drill a dimple, drill, baby, drill, if your baby/is six or sixty, at any age, kissing an unexpected smile, most worthwhile!
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Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 8:03 AM UTC
Drill, Baby, Drill! (Dimples)
She walked through the streets in her shimmering dress that hugged her skin as if part of her being. Speaking in tongue misunderstood by thought she stared not at you but within you as if she was gauging the purity of your inner grace. "What's a pretty girl like you doing alone? "Where did you fall from, One goaded, smiling she replied, "I fell a long way down, "Dii me ridere, [loosely translated] "The gods are laughing at me? She smirks at those in plentiful urgency to expel what time they have on tribal necessities. Wondering into a alleyway she had a few to choose from but this one barely lit. The spider and the fly came to mind, but who was in the web and who was but a husk waiting to decay? "Lady you going to have a bad night, "Bad night, try bad millennium you apes make me laugh, "Who you calling ape woman? *"Lets see your hairy, you smell, and you scrape your hand on the ground, no sorry ape is to good for you organisms,* Her dress seems to separate and he hair lengthens to hide modest of a body of perfection. before there eyes is an angel but her feathers are as onyx as coal. "See my true from, As screams bathe the walls and wisps of smoke ascend not to heaven but fade in the wind. Eyes are charred echoes of where sight Was blessed now eroded into husks of nothingness. *"Silly little things, when will they learn that there are things in the night you shouldn't play with,* Walking out of the alley a smile on her face, she hadn't had that much fun in a while. Scorching a soul wasn't fun but they weren't worthy of it any way. Now she was off to see what this nice little black number would help to get a free drink or two.
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Jun 25, 2016
Jun 25, 2016 at 2:46 PM UTC
Angel In A Black Dress
She walked through the streets in her shimmering dress that hugged her skin as if part of her being. Speaking in tongue misunderstood by thought she stared not at you but within you as if she was gauging the purity of your inner grace. "What's a pretty girl like you doing alone? "Where did you fall from, One goaded, smiling she replied, "I fell a long way down, "Dii me ridere, [loosely translated] "The gods are laughing at me? She smirks at those in plentiful urgency to expel what time they have on tribal necessities. Wondering into a alleyway she had a few to choose from but this one barely lit. The spider and the fly came to mind, but who was in the web and who was but a husk waiting to decay? "Lady you going to have a bad night, "Bad night, try bad millennium you apes make me laugh, "Who you calling ape woman? *"Lets see your hairy, you smell, and you scrape your hand on the ground, no sorry ape is to good for you organisms,* Her dress seems to separate and he hair lengthens to hide modest of a body of perfection. before there eyes is an angel but her feathers are as onyx as coal. "See my true from, As screams bathe the walls and wisps of smoke ascend not to heaven but fade in the wind. Eyes are charred echoes of where sight Was blessed now eroded into husks of nothingness. *"Silly little things, when will they learn that there are things in the night you shouldn't play with,* Walking out of the alley a smile on her face, she hadn't had that much fun in a while. Scorching a soul wasn't fun but they weren't worthy of it any way. Now she was off to see what this nice little black number would help to get a free drink or two.
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35
A WOMAN IS CRYING In the next room a woman is crying a moon perches upon an hotel sign unmoved as a new millennium dawns as bright as neon the woman still crying her unknown despair shifting silently from one century to another human grief unchanged from age to age. A woman is crying.
0
Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 7:17 PM UTC
A WOMAN IS CRYING
Look at us, The thirst for green is disgusting We exploit the lands which aren't ours We bury the children with so much potential in their eyes So that we can make a buck or buy a cheaper HDTV Why should a capitalist care If a Brazilian child is dying in their mother's fragile arms, It's one less mouth for the world to feed And less food for them means more to feed our obese bellies They say we have evolved so much in the past millennium When in reality we are exactly the same but with new inventions And more toys yet we still complain It's always been about power Yet the world is in a worse condition because equality is a non existent term Just like freedom of speech And the good guy of war Don't you see what is going on? Yet we prefer not to see because it is too depressing Or doesn't affect our daily lives Look at the inequalities of our own country There are men women and children starving on the street Our privileged leaders send those away who only wanted a chance to fight for something that nobody should believe in. Keep turning a blind eye and see where that leads you in your life Because remember you aren't taking anything with you Except your memories on the day in which you die
0
Sep 17, 2010
Sep 17, 2010 at 12:09 AM UTC
Thirst for Green
What is the Secret of your Great Tan Skin? This be bashful on a Blind Afternoon With you on Sail, and Tongues burning within High on a Jetty, the Girls see you soon Frankly, you the Millennium's Next Best Ken, Picking Barbie after Barbie on Hors The other Males sour; Then prune once again Thinking them robbed from the Best Picks before See, how your Rome enamourates the World And letting this pour like an Endless Fall Splashing on Flesh, to Cologne turning swirl Eau et de la Belle, who boasts you and all. Seeing this Promo, this Six-Pack so thin Still did not respond to your Great Tan Skin.
0
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 3:48 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - FOURTY-NINE - TOM DALEY
--- if that which does not **** you makes you stronger I must have been meant to be Ms Olympic Bodybuilder of the Millennium!
0
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 7:59 PM UTC
strong?
Whenever and wherever there is a decline in religious practice, O descendant of Bharata, and a predominant rise of irreligion--at that time I descend Myself. In order to deliver the pious and to annihilate the miscreants, as well as to reestablish the principles of religion, I advent Myself millennium after millennium.
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Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 3:14 AM UTC
Bhagvad Geeta Says
* *A millennium back Our fate decided That we were destined To meet like this As strangers... For LOVE to touch us For LOVE to happen Nor YOU nor I Could have stopped This LOVE to happen We were mere puppets In the hands of fate Good thing is Rather than fighting LOVE We surrendered to accept it We made choice of not Harming, Hurting, Hating Humiliating each other Or anyone else We made choices To be kind, caring Respectful & trusting To be compassionate and LOVING towards each other In your LOVE I became a Radha And a Meera And a Kabeer And an Eve And a Kaiz And a Rumi And a Rabya You became my Krishna And a Layla And an Adam And a Zuliet And my Allah-Hoo Wherever I stand and BE You are there Everywhere for me You've became ETERNAL Part and parcel of my SOUL We've stood by each other In thick and thin And we intend to do so forever To keep our conscience clean* *
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Jun 25, 2019
Jun 25, 2019 at 11:51 PM UTC
In Thick and Thin
The day of the site visit I hurried out at six fifteen to wait For a train with a waning moon, Bright Venus and Jupiter hovering Above the skyline. The amber horizon Turned to orange and pink As scattered stars went dim. Misread the schedule and arrived Downtown three quarters of an hour Before my Electric District connection. An accidental gift to self. I ascended, ate two breakfast sandwiches I got for one dollar with a coupon, Warm in my hands on a blue picnic table. The sky grew light Above the Lake and I wandered Through Millennium Park. It was empty Or nearly, which felt the same. The sun broke the bent horizon In chrome and ice. I took some pictures, Then descended to find Track Five. The day's light revealed Hollow houses with cartoon stone applied Like paint, unable to compete For preeminence with two-car garages. The newest were bigger and offered In different colors, but all the same. Driving conditions were excellent. At sunset I stood on another platform Above a busy highway. The last rays came Through tree branches and melted Into the pale sky as they left my face. I had witnessed that sun's birth, It had warmed me while I waited for my carpool, Rested with me on a concrete planter after lunch. I entered the city in darkness A second time. Changed muddy boots For clean shoes and hurried to the museum. It was a free night, overcrowded With families and children, so difficult To find a quiet corner for contemplation, Any sanctuary for my own small soul. I descended, discovered the typewriters, then Realized you and I were already there, just In different colors, using different words, Spending school vacation to view old paintings And the Holiday Miniature Rooms. It dawned and the future was brighter even As I left the city in darkness.
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Jan 15, 2019
Jan 15, 2019 at 3:29 PM UTC
The Day of the Site Visit
The day of the site visit I hurried out at six fifteen to wait For a train with a waning moon, Bright Venus and Jupiter hovering Above the skyline. The amber horizon Turned to orange and pink As scattered stars went dim. Misread the schedule and arrived Downtown three quarters of an hour Before my Electric District connection. An accidental gift to self. I ascended, ate two breakfast sandwiches I got for one dollar with a coupon, Warm in my hands on a blue picnic table. The sky grew light Above the Lake and I wandered Through Millennium Park. It was empty Or nearly, which felt the same. The sun broke the bent horizon In chrome and ice. I took some pictures, Then descended to find Track Five. The day's light revealed Hollow houses with cartoon stone applied Like paint, unable to compete For preeminence with two-car garages. The newest were bigger and offered In different colors, but all the same. Driving conditions were excellent. At sunset I stood on another platform Above a busy highway. The last rays came Through tree branches and melted Into the pale sky as they left my face. I had witnessed that sun's birth, It had warmed me while I waited for my carpool, Rested with me on a concrete planter after lunch. I entered the city in darkness A second time. Changed muddy boots For clean shoes and hurried to the museum. It was a free night, overcrowded With families and children, so difficult To find a quiet corner for contemplation, Any sanctuary for my own small soul. I descended, discovered the typewriters, then Realized you and I were already there, just In different colors, using different words, Spending school vacation to view old paintings And the Holiday Miniature Rooms. It dawned and the future was brighter even As I left the city in darkness.
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49
Mayan Poetry Translations The Receiving of the Flower excerpt from a Mayan love poem loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Let us sing overflowing with joy as we observe the Receiving of the Flower. The lovely maidens beam; their hearts leap in their ******* Why? Because they will soon yield their virginity to the men they love! ### The Deflowering excerpt from a Mayan love poem loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Remove your clothes; let down your hair; become as naked as the day you were born— virgins! ### Prelude to ********** excerpt from a Mayan love poem loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Lay out your most beautiful clothes, maidens! The day of happiness has arrived! Grab your combs, detangle your hair, adorn your earlobes with gaudy pendants. Dress in white as becomes maidens ... Then go, give your lovers the happiness of your laughter! And all the village will rejoice with you, for the day of happiness has arrived! ### The Flower-Strewn Pool excerpt from a Mayan love poem loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch You have arrived at last in the woods where no one can see what you do at the flower-strewn pool ... Remove your clothes, unbraid your hair, become as you were when you first arrived here, virgins, maidens! These are my modern English translations of ancient Mayan love poems. Native Americans were creating poems and songs in pre-Columbian days; Mayan and Aztec literature may date back to the first millennium BCE. Unfortunately the Spanish conquerors of South America destroyed all but four of the thousands of pre-Columbian books that probably once existed (according to translator Michael Coe). Mayan hieroglyphs remain far from fully understood and dating what remains is difficult. However, the best poetry is timeless and I believe we can know our Mayan brothers and sisters a little better through their poems.—Michael R. Burch These are my modern English translations of ancient Mayan love poems. Native Americans were creating poems and songs in pre-Columbian days; Mayan and Aztec literature may date back to the first millennium BCE. Unfortunately the Spanish conquerors of South America destroyed all but four of the thousands of pre-Columbian books that probably once existed (according to translator Michael Coe). Mayan hieroglyphs remain far from fully understood and dating what remains is difficult. However, the best poetry is timeless and I believe we can know our Mayan brothers and sisters a little better through their poems.—Michael R. Burch Keywords/Tags: ancient, Mayan, poetry, translation, translations, love, virginity, *** marriage, joy, happiness, flower, flowers, deflowering, clothes, hair, ****** nakedness
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May 5, 2020
May 5, 2020 at 4:54 AM UTC
Mayan Poetry Translations
Mayan Poetry Translations The Receiving of the Flower excerpt from a Mayan love poem loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Let us sing overflowing with joy as we observe the Receiving of the Flower. The lovely maidens beam; their hearts leap in their ******* Why? Because they will soon yield their virginity to the men they love! ### The Deflowering excerpt from a Mayan love poem loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Remove your clothes; let down your hair; become as naked as the day you were born— virgins! ### Prelude to ********** excerpt from a Mayan love poem loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Lay out your most beautiful clothes, maidens! The day of happiness has arrived! Grab your combs, detangle your hair, adorn your earlobes with gaudy pendants. Dress in white as becomes maidens ... Then go, give your lovers the happiness of your laughter! And all the village will rejoice with you, for the day of happiness has arrived! ### The Flower-Strewn Pool excerpt from a Mayan love poem loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch You have arrived at last in the woods where no one can see what you do at the flower-strewn pool ... Remove your clothes, unbraid your hair, become as you were when you first arrived here, virgins, maidens! These are my modern English translations of ancient Mayan love poems. Native Americans were creating poems and songs in pre-Columbian days; Mayan and Aztec literature may date back to the first millennium BCE. Unfortunately the Spanish conquerors of South America destroyed all but four of the thousands of pre-Columbian books that probably once existed (according to translator Michael Coe). Mayan hieroglyphs remain far from fully understood and dating what remains is difficult. However, the best poetry is timeless and I believe we can know our Mayan brothers and sisters a little better through their poems.—Michael R. Burch These are my modern English translations of ancient Mayan love poems. Native Americans were creating poems and songs in pre-Columbian days; Mayan and Aztec literature may date back to the first millennium BCE. Unfortunately the Spanish conquerors of South America destroyed all but four of the thousands of pre-Columbian books that probably once existed (according to translator Michael Coe). Mayan hieroglyphs remain far from fully understood and dating what remains is difficult. However, the best poetry is timeless and I believe we can know our Mayan brothers and sisters a little better through their poems.—Michael R. Burch Keywords/Tags: ancient, Mayan, poetry, translation, translations, love, virginity, *** marriage, joy, happiness, flower, flowers, deflowering, clothes, hair, ****** nakedness
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46
What a pleasure it is to be alive at the same time as you I could be lost in the 50s swirling in a poodle skirt and singing to frank sinatra or the 60s painting peace signs on my cheeks thriving in a cultural decade or i could be making my way in the 70s or 80s pretending i like disco with poofy hair i have teased my mother about. but i am here in the present which is truly a gift as im spending the golden ages of my life with you when i could be an entirely different person in an entirely different millennium but how lucky i am alive and free in the same universe as you
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Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 9:47 PM UTC
Alive
Imagine the earth as a big metal ball Now see a crow with beak and claw He sits on that ball and sharpens it beak Millennium after millennium, week after week Till that crow's beak was so sharp, no words could explain Whittling that steel earth sized ball down to the tiniest piece of grain That dear friend will be the VERY beginning of eternity   How is that for clarity
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Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 11:55 AM UTC
The Crow and the Big Metal Ball
no bison on the menu at the Buffalo; this diner never served it   Big Mike, long gone named it for the high shelf   on the prairie behind it   where Lakota learned to stampede beasts over the edge, massacring hordes without bow or sweat the gully below, their forgotten bone yard, left little trace of them save half a skull Mike exhumed and hung on the wall in the time of polio before the wide whizzing interstates when truckers still landed on his dusty lot   their rolling behemoths content in pasture in a new millennium, the cafe highway is but an accidental detour; the shack guarded by thistles, long departed the Detroit steel the truckers now in the ground, their bones free from pillage, but the Cyclops on the wall remains, eyeing the vacant prairie they all once roamed
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May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 8:05 PM UTC
the Buffalo Cafe
I will stay quiet. I will say no more. Just there where you left me Im still here, didnt go. You breath in, breath out, My breath is still held, From that very moment, Where I was left. Sun wakes up, falls asleep, Do you think it misses the moon? The moment when they meet I will move on, The moment Sun sees the Moon I will speak, I will respond. I stay still, keep quiet, The words are taken away from my lips, From the moment you left, The moment your promises were no longer kept. I stay still, mouth is shut, Words are taken by the Moon, It keeps them to speak with the Sun, When they speak, listen, They have eternity to talk over, Spring comes autumn goes, Decades pass near me, I still stay still, can you see me? At the same place same last breath you let me take, before you left. Day by day, night by night, I am still there, remaining quiet. Like waterfall the words remain unspoken kept in a well. I will remain quiet, till we speak again, from the moment where I didnt breath out. Wait few hundred years more, till every Star will shine the last words Till every leaf will whisper you Every bird will tweet, Just wait a millennium more, I will still be there, where you left me. With broken promises, confused and abandoned, I will remain quiet till the day we speak, the day you will bring me to life again. Till then. I will stay quiet I will say no more.
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Aug 26, 2016
Aug 26, 2016 at 5:28 AM UTC
I will stay quiet.
Some of the first mecha featured in manga & anime were super robots [スーパーロボット _sūpā robotto_], ultimate, sometimes transforming into weapons w/ superpowers. They are often one of a kind products of an ancient civilization,      aliens or mad genius,        are usually piloted by Japanese teenagers & often powered by mystical or exotic energy sources; Getter Rays, Photonic Energy, Ide, Spiral Power &c. Sometimes they are formed from                                                        a combination of a few weaker robots;                                                 their abilities described as "quasi-magical"; w/ Miss America becoming less & less a beauty pageant, it's only a matter of time              before Medusa inherits the mantle; the revived gods of the ancient world crossing the rainbow bridge to do battle w/ high-tech monster robots; AI meaning nothing to a flying fist;   Apotheosis, from Greek ἀποθέωσις from ἀποθεοῦν, apotheoun "to deify"; in Latin deificatio "make divine"; also called divinization & deification; is the glorification of a subject to divine level; The term has meanings in theology, where it refers to a belief in art where it refers to a genre;                            Defecation is the final act of digestion, by which organisms eliminate solid,     semisolid, or liquid waste material from the digestive tract via the **** Humans expel feces w/ a frequency varying from a few times daily to a few times weekly; Waves of muscular contraction known as peristalsis in the walls of the colon move ***** matter through the digestive tract towards the ****** Undigested food may also be expelled this way,                                 in a process called _egestion_ Open defecation,                           the practice of defecating outside         w/out using a toilet of any kind, is still widespread in some countries, for example in India, home of the heroic deities of Hinduism that evolved from the Vedic era 2nd millennium BCE through the medieval era, 1st millennium CE
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Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 10:09 PM UTC
I Dreamt Miss America **** Diamonds In My Hands
Some of the first mecha featured in manga & anime were super robots [スーパーロボット _sūpā robotto_], ultimate, sometimes transforming into weapons w/ superpowers. They are often one of a kind products of an ancient civilization,      aliens or mad genius,        are usually piloted by Japanese teenagers & often powered by mystical or exotic energy sources; Getter Rays, Photonic Energy, Ide, Spiral Power &c. Sometimes they are formed from                                                        a combination of a few weaker robots;                                                 their abilities described as "quasi-magical"; w/ Miss America becoming less & less a beauty pageant, it's only a matter of time              before Medusa inherits the mantle; the revived gods of the ancient world crossing the rainbow bridge to do battle w/ high-tech monster robots; AI meaning nothing to a flying fist;   Apotheosis, from Greek ἀποθέωσις from ἀποθεοῦν, apotheoun "to deify"; in Latin deificatio "make divine"; also called divinization & deification; is the glorification of a subject to divine level; The term has meanings in theology, where it refers to a belief in art where it refers to a genre;                            Defecation is the final act of digestion, by which organisms eliminate solid,     semisolid, or liquid waste material from the digestive tract via the **** Humans expel feces w/ a frequency varying from a few times daily to a few times weekly; Waves of muscular contraction known as peristalsis in the walls of the colon move ***** matter through the digestive tract towards the ****** Undigested food may also be expelled this way,                                 in a process called _egestion_ Open defecation,                           the practice of defecating outside         w/out using a toilet of any kind, is still widespread in some countries, for example in India, home of the heroic deities of Hinduism that evolved from the Vedic era 2nd millennium BCE through the medieval era, 1st millennium CE
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39
Long Valley lay outside my bedroom window high desert Northern Nevada, each sunrise rose brilliant red spirals spires exploding in the passing dawn, to the petroglyphs we were drawn. The asphalt became a dirt road then the dirt road ended. Along Long Valley like some drive through zoo, herds of wild burros cattle sheep grazing separated by Pinion pines the white sage the dust devils and the tumble weeds and a 52 Studebaker body perfectly preserved in the high desert dry air one could only wonder how it got there. Long Valley had its own expanse its own vibration to the air distinct and unique filled with wonder way out there. The petroglyphs 10,000 year old drawings at once was the shores of ancient Lake Lahontan you could feel it there. Trying to decipher the lines and curly cues circles and swirls stars and shapes of an alien consciousness from another land another time. This was no one rock but acres and acres of generations communicating with one another the rocks worn away from thousands of years of sitting forming perfect lounge chairs, perhaps sitting alongside some receding shore line. There were stone rock walls carefully stacked mysteriously standing  scattered in the desert no one knows what it really means. While lost in the tones the scents and vision of the millennium, on the hillside through the Tamarack and Pinion there emerged four wild mustangs at a distance on the top of the ridge not those that wandered into our Virgina City yards But wild animals tied to the horses of the millennium. Power and Strength spirit gods reminding us of where we were. The winds blew the black mane of the male in front wet from sweat chest heaving in breath and then they were gone over the hill from where they had come. The petroglyphs were silent. The sounds of the winds the sounds of the small stream less than a drop in the once Great Lahontan Sea. Before the sun went down we needed to leave driving along the sides of dry river beds up rocky hillsides along the electrical lines to the dirt road to the asphalt as the Long Valley sunset shot spires of red.
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Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 10:26 AM UTC
Wild Horses/The Journey Into Long Valley
Long Valley lay outside my bedroom window high desert Northern Nevada, each sunrise rose brilliant red spirals spires exploding in the passing dawn, to the petroglyphs we were drawn. The asphalt became a dirt road then the dirt road ended. Along Long Valley like some drive through zoo, herds of wild burros cattle sheep grazing separated by Pinion pines the white sage the dust devils and the tumble weeds and a 52 Studebaker body perfectly preserved in the high desert dry air one could only wonder how it got there. Long Valley had its own expanse its own vibration to the air distinct and unique filled with wonder way out there. The petroglyphs 10,000 year old drawings at once was the shores of ancient Lake Lahontan you could feel it there. Trying to decipher the lines and curly cues circles and swirls stars and shapes of an alien consciousness from another land another time. This was no one rock but acres and acres of generations communicating with one another the rocks worn away from thousands of years of sitting forming perfect lounge chairs, perhaps sitting alongside some receding shore line. There were stone rock walls carefully stacked mysteriously standing  scattered in the desert no one knows what it really means. While lost in the tones the scents and vision of the millennium, on the hillside through the Tamarack and Pinion there emerged four wild mustangs at a distance on the top of the ridge not those that wandered into our Virgina City yards But wild animals tied to the horses of the millennium. Power and Strength spirit gods reminding us of where we were. The winds blew the black mane of the male in front wet from sweat chest heaving in breath and then they were gone over the hill from where they had come. The petroglyphs were silent. The sounds of the winds the sounds of the small stream less than a drop in the once Great Lahontan Sea. Before the sun went down we needed to leave driving along the sides of dry river beds up rocky hillsides along the electrical lines to the dirt road to the asphalt as the Long Valley sunset shot spires of red.
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102
When I felt you tremble, I felt the earth quake beneath me Like I stood on high grounds; You pounded emotion into me With playful punches And hard stares; But I'm not supposed to like you like this. The way your hair falls And the way my finger feels curling in it; The freckles on your face And the heart I formed connecting them, Your voice that is a song playing on repeat, repeat, repeat Release me from your spell - Because I am not supposed to like you like this. Tension builds like the walls I put up To protect myself from a girl like you, A girl that will come marching through With the audacity To make me break rules set in stone, Because I don't care that I'm not supposed to like you like this. Your teeth align in your smile Like the planets during a solar eclipse - Girls like you come along once every other millennium, You are the reason I pray to God For every good thing that has happened to me On days when nothing goes right You are the hammer that shattered any standards I had. You are the reason I am walking like a KING. You are my QUEEN. You look so beautiful right underneath me; This isn't just another hook up Why are my lips tingling and my mind mingling Somewhere between us and the heavens? When will I remember to start breathing again? You are not just a friend - you are the girl That I am not supposed to meet. Why am I connecting to you like steel chains that cannot break? Emotions became synonymous with skyscrapers - We're touching the clouds, We're getting higher and higher My lips fall lower and lower; You Get closer and closer, I am being pushed Further further, Im not supposed To be writing a poem like this. Your moans should not be in perfect harmony With my panting, You should not have a necklace of hickies and bite marks, Your pants should not be on the floor, I'm not supposed To be feeling good about this.
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Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 12:47 AM UTC
Prom Night #2
When I felt you tremble, I felt the earth quake beneath me Like I stood on high grounds; You pounded emotion into me With playful punches And hard stares; But I'm not supposed to like you like this. The way your hair falls And the way my finger feels curling in it; The freckles on your face And the heart I formed connecting them, Your voice that is a song playing on repeat, repeat, repeat Release me from your spell - Because I am not supposed to like you like this. Tension builds like the walls I put up To protect myself from a girl like you, A girl that will come marching through With the audacity To make me break rules set in stone, Because I don't care that I'm not supposed to like you like this. Your teeth align in your smile Like the planets during a solar eclipse - Girls like you come along once every other millennium, You are the reason I pray to God For every good thing that has happened to me On days when nothing goes right You are the hammer that shattered any standards I had. You are the reason I am walking like a KING. You are my QUEEN. You look so beautiful right underneath me; This isn't just another hook up Why are my lips tingling and my mind mingling Somewhere between us and the heavens? When will I remember to start breathing again? You are not just a friend - you are the girl That I am not supposed to meet. Why am I connecting to you like steel chains that cannot break? Emotions became synonymous with skyscrapers - We're touching the clouds, We're getting higher and higher My lips fall lower and lower; You Get closer and closer, I am being pushed Further further, Im not supposed To be writing a poem like this. Your moans should not be in perfect harmony With my panting, You should not have a necklace of hickies and bite marks, Your pants should not be on the floor, I'm not supposed To be feeling good about this.
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58
"Perhaps, we are the people who met each other at a time warp, that's why we are still existing in this millennium." It's like my heartbeat has been cursed by twenty lifetimes; I would trade all my days, even if it turns from epoch to eon, I will always come back to you.
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Jul 11, 2022
Jul 11, 2022 at 11:45 AM UTC
Twenty lifetimes
At Summer Solstice, the Sun is far distant from the celestial equator and that day is the longest of the year. From Khufu’s Great Pyramid at Giza the scarlet Phoenix with the golden crest swoops silent and low across the Delta. Only half a millennium of life before it passes to the flames of fire and is reborn again from charred ashes. This yang bird, fiery and blood cardinal a solar flare blazing incandescent pumps joy from the igneous heart of earth erupts red hot energy volcanic exciting and swirling the power of Qi. Sun’s light and heat brings universal life, and worshipped as Samash, Mithras and Ra, Aztec God Tezcatlipoca, Greek Helios, Phoebus and Apollo. Now comes the agile Phoenix, sunset-stained Broad-winged and gliding in the cloudless skies Certain source of abundance and plenty Plump-rich each berry, mango, peach, pear, plum. Squeeze juicy sweet and succulent to taste Summer full blown, mature and glorious. © M.L.Emmett
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Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
The Element of Fire
You have the beauty That enflames the heart And enchants the soul Within, don't hide it Society's standards Are ridiculous The media's portrayal Of what beauty is biased We spend out of our means To wear such and such labels Wear pounds of make-up, Starve ourselves, Because who we look in The mirror is not what We see on tv? What is beauty? Is it the texture of my hair? Is it the hue of my skin? Is it my ethnicity? Is it my weight? What is beauty? Black is beautiful White is beautiful Hispanic is beautiful Asian is beautiful Bi/multi racial is beautiful You're beautiful We're beautiful We don't need society's Validation No, we don't need to Be deemed perfect by society In actual fact, it's standards Are unatainable So why do we strive for Something we know is Only an illusion? Do we realize the impact That media has in shaping The way the millennium Generation Thinks, and behaves? We demand change, But we're the same people Tuning in to the same Shows that we protest about We've become so engulfed In the world of entertainment That the word has lost Meaning itself Heck, I'm 18 I'm guilty of this too Entertainment is no longer Just that- it's crotch grabbing, Glorified drug, alcohol abuse And yet, we wonder why Majority of My generation has no substance, No depth, and no layers We no longer aspire to be The Obamas, the Ghandis, The Mandelas and so on No! That has long passed The 'American Dream' has Become Kim Kardashian And Kanye West In all honesty, We are our surroundings You want change? Let's stop watching reality tv Maybe then these networks Will stop producing more trash Let's instill morals In our children And help them discover The fire that burns inside Them, the beauty within
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Mar 1, 2014
Mar 1, 2014 at 4:59 AM UTC
Millenium Generation
You have the beauty That enflames the heart And enchants the soul Within, don't hide it Society's standards Are ridiculous The media's portrayal Of what beauty is biased We spend out of our means To wear such and such labels Wear pounds of make-up, Starve ourselves, Because who we look in The mirror is not what We see on tv? What is beauty? Is it the texture of my hair? Is it the hue of my skin? Is it my ethnicity? Is it my weight? What is beauty? Black is beautiful White is beautiful Hispanic is beautiful Asian is beautiful Bi/multi racial is beautiful You're beautiful We're beautiful We don't need society's Validation No, we don't need to Be deemed perfect by society In actual fact, it's standards Are unatainable So why do we strive for Something we know is Only an illusion? Do we realize the impact That media has in shaping The way the millennium Generation Thinks, and behaves? We demand change, But we're the same people Tuning in to the same Shows that we protest about We've become so engulfed In the world of entertainment That the word has lost Meaning itself Heck, I'm 18 I'm guilty of this too Entertainment is no longer Just that- it's crotch grabbing, Glorified drug, alcohol abuse And yet, we wonder why Majority of My generation has no substance, No depth, and no layers We no longer aspire to be The Obamas, the Ghandis, The Mandelas and so on No! That has long passed The 'American Dream' has Become Kim Kardashian And Kanye West In all honesty, We are our surroundings You want change? Let's stop watching reality tv Maybe then these networks Will stop producing more trash Let's instill morals In our children And help them discover The fire that burns inside Them, the beauty within
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77
In the narrowest of lanes I found the sweet shop. Behind dusty crumbling glasses dozed the old keeper smelling of sugar, milk and sweat over fossils of Paleolithic sweets on a time machine from the century he never was to a millennium he doesn't bother about clinging onto clay by pottery not succumbing to synthetic counting not on android but accounting on parchment with the art of finger's arithmetic most intricately scribbled with pencil announcing progress is a trouble not designed for the simple and contentment has no more nitty-gritty than price and quantity. Over his head spiders worked and reworked from the ceiling to the glass as have been doing since Carboniferous.
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Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 9:04 AM UTC
Evolution
**Hear each body cell speaking zen to the next one result of self oblivious meditation opening- numerous effulgent channels to sources of light in universe; the meaning of the epithet, "jewel in the lotus" becomes evident, body becomes all eyes and ears like that of a martial art expert's  in combat (remember the chants immortal, the Guru's gift that roused the coiled serpent 1) soul, the essence, is liberated from all bonds, limiting cycles of birth and death stars on the firmament of inner sky is the brightest ever, rain light "Aum" the cosmic hum, resounds sonorously  in the core of consciousness life and death are words without any meaning in this state liberation could never be expressed in words or by any other means a never changing quietude dawns,  existence moves to a limitless space- beyond dream in deep sleep and further to the realm of mysterious. Existence becomes a reality eternal, beyond the three dimensional space that state is an experience, now a moment is a millennium , gently slips in to cosmic consciousness, that swirls to envelop**
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Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 12:55 AM UTC
The zen of being and nothingness
~for maddie~ the inference need not be discerned, plain clear like a perfected blue sky that took a millennium to craft so well that you take it 100% for granted even God needs trial and error to get it right, and more to create a perfect anything and any body and any elephant
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Jun 15, 2024
Jun 15, 2024 at 9:58 AM UTC
elephants spring to mind