"modernly" poems
We snap a shameless selfie
And post at once online.
Me and wifey smiling sweet
Whilst we play or dine!
Now some say it quite conceited
To paste one's mugs so much.
But we know its really just
More modernly in touch.
It took a bit to email,
And then to switch to text -
Now it's all on Facebook.
Who knows what will be next?
So easy on our selfies
It's really not self toot
It's more about assuring
We still live and compute.
(C) 2011 All rights reserved
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 3:01 AM UTC
My French Gem
The Rose tickler
finely handwritten
The movie part gave
her the sign life
crossed over gem
French kiss the morning
The burst of Kaleidoscope Sun
Double touched but forbidden
On the Cheetah necklace chase
The French Lieutenant
her body and lips moonstruck
On her chaise
To get over it another work of art
that got more attention
To revive her from drowning in
the gem scattered like a
benevolent
blue splat philanthropic
Looking more into his unknown
diving suit mixed
with envy green how she got mixed into
the stranger of Poison Ivy
Her love didn't show all her
attributes God spiritually well
She went to the pastry heart
how it flaked all
over like crystals
He was patiently sitting but got persuaded
That little gem of the lounge
Her firey gem was the canary
that got his tongue
Her gem stands taller
The crafted lines of quality in the
Pillars
"Le Bonheur De Vivre Gem-Art"
French kiss went inside the darker side of the painting
He's transformed.
Shape heart delicate uniform.
"Parisians on a mission
A kiss is a serious manner
LOVE" Gem birth opens her
He modifies her rainbow
Artwork of brush yellow
twinset platter hello fellow
the essence beloved to follow
So worth her wait being watched
By the crystal rock, he loved her
going up in spirit or she falls for him
The gem to be it
Magical modernly gem -fit clock.
See through hands meditation harp.
Lebonheur De Vivre fine art sharp.
Lips movement beyond hearts.
Le-bonheur De Vivre gem arts.
Artesian heels tapping boots.
Fall for Autumn love cahoots.
Beloved, divinely he's the healer.
The picture spoke she's the winner.
Wilderness he glides kisses prints.
Pushing her waves hints.
Everlasting one thought he's guessing?
Art never part beautify stem.
Eyes so genuine he's her gem.
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 9:26 AM UTC
It's 3:09 PM, I've just deactivated my facebook account. Not planned, or thought-out...just so. I know, it's a foolish and stupid thing to even take the time of noting down in words but so it goes. I'm not horrible, I've been worse. I'm just not...doing too good. I don't feel well, and quite frankly I'm too exhausted for the whole staying positive ******** Things like deactivating my lame facebook account and not owning a cell-phone by free-will...it's my way of modernly disconnecting from the artificial world I've held part of and the people in it. It's not that I'm trying to isolate myself or become anti-social completely...it's more like...I'm just trying to find some air, some real ******* fresh air to breath. I've been listening to Man Of A Thousand Faces by Regina Spektor on repeat this past week, and I just need...I just need to let my own self be. I'm at a distant public library away from home as I type this. It's one of my favorite places to visit and spend some quality free time at. Surrounding myself with books and records and strangers is one of the most tranquilizing methods I know. It's difficult sometimes...to accept that I'm twenty years old and in far reach of accomplishing my dreams. It's difficult to accept that my father's heart could fail again...it's difficult to accept that my mum has vertigo...it's difficult to accept that my uncle is dead, it's going to be a year since and I still cannot bring myself out of selfish denial. Loving is difficult, caring is difficult, trying is difficult, beliefs are difficult, feelings are difficult, I am difficult...and the thought of wanting to cry makes me want to cry because it's so exasperating and draining and overwhelming and humbling. I haven't written or posted much on here lately, but doing so right now gives me this tiny and odd and inexplicable crumb of...hope? It's difficult to accept death as much as life itself sometimes but nevertheless I accept it. I cope through it in the stupid little ways that I can. I become torn and furiously passionate all at once. I can only love as much as my heart can manage and work hard and try hard and cry when I feel like ******* crying because feelings are beautiful and meant to be exposed.
todo en él es lugar adecuado .
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 10:50 PM UTC
1.
The sky
is unimaginable in
it's lucid vastness
as kaleidoscopic clouds
skip across that
cliché post-card blue
under which I am going
post- modernly insane.
2.
These trees,
they speak to me.
Whispers in my hair,
and teases me
with rambling
codes of rhymes
and riddles.
I speak to them,
my woes, sorrows,
happiness,
anger, and
most of all those trees
have absorbed my pain.
I feel their hearts,
I taste the bark,
I count their leaves,
and I am half- crazy
from it all,
full of praise!
3.
Swirling, tumbling,
wildness in constancy,
and when
the sun shines on
this river,
it is a rapid,
solid, pure rush
of golden light.
This blinds me,
but I do not look away.
My mind is blind,
but my heart is not.
4.
Who am I?
What am I?
5.
I simply am.
Existing only within
change, yet
without changing
at
all. I am just within
my reason.
Vapid as
a new thought.
6.
I am.
I am relentless.
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 8:43 PM UTC
They say we’re so selfishly rational,
and so modernly savage.
A plague thats scale is international,
and makes us easy to manage.
Some say we’re predictably irrational.
I’m more inclined to believe this.
Patterns in chaos, lead by morale.
Decisions made in ignorances bliss.
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 7:37 AM UTC
The advance of spices
Found in today's shyness
The shrewd and spry, auspices
Of a count of succinctly, the face you make is...
My favor of sincerity
Such an uncertain cue, to look the other way...?
And know the silence, has a question in all civility
Does a sly thought, have the best of well, your day?
Dawn, the silver of the clouds
Has just fallen in love; with a coming star...?
Sharing only the mornings rustling, of breezes and towns
The taste of seclusion with a joy here, never to far...
Noon, the more we modernly save, the time
Happy was a heralded ordeal, of handsomeness's stone
We take to resolve, for another solution of sides
We are with, the kindness and the insist, of complication...
Dusk, and the fools of surmisal, have become realer silence...
The stare of synchronicity and its terror, love
Has the day for another you, with a realm to signify, the end
Of a wishing sky; a simpler earth, hungry for a covenant...
And the night of a lands court...
Made to order, and seldom, the love of forces we describe
As mercy, to an angel's heart, the very first vanity to flirt
Has you by a king, notice a queen share a kiss with life...
Any and all, the resolute masses, take their time...
Here, and the space for vanity to understate hell
With whose tongue; we know the contrite, the pain, and exodus of rights?
Of a coulding mirror? so did the candor it took to say desire's day, and all's well...
With the light and the shadow...
Spirit in my hand, or estrange a hair for a carnal blossom
I've seen your care become a salt, an imagination of milk and honey
That has a jew for you, a waiting wall of accord that has seen, loves and hates shown...
Oct 16, 2023
Oct 16, 2023 at 6:57 PM UTC