"monumentally" poems
*To watch the sun glare,
a rainbow of colors shining this world,
to smell the rain fall
a reprieve from the chaos
splendidness surrounds life
the death of a spider
when the eggs hatch,
the larval caterpillar
wrapped up in a cocoon;
emerges into an elegant butterfly,
the bacterial decay of nature
into flourishing mushrooms,
the ***** of bees
into sweet, sweet honey,
waste and manure
encourage bloom of radiant flowers,
the grace and beauty of youth
becoming the wisdom and dignity of winkled skin,
lessons learned
from hardships experienced*
when in negative light
remember,
there will be another chance to improve
another time to change the next outcome
your view, aspect of the universe
greatly changes the situation
your attitude, your reaction
towards others, towards life
is what monumentally effects the context
so prideful us humans
an ego trip indeed
an argument of the opposites,
a debate of loved ones,
are both sides wrong?
often not,
yet the argument remains
admit your id
profess your apology,
it does not have to
mean that you
are the one at fault,
(though you very well might be)
it does not mean
the other is infinitely correct,
sincere it should be
it simply states,
you are sorry for the distress,
sorry for the difference of opinions,
thoughts, ideas
that could not be controlled,
you are admitting
you value your relationship
much, much more
then your self righteousness,
if you genuinely care
you will listen,
and if you listen
you will be on the road
to understanding
**and only at understanding
can you truly love**
Jul 21, 2012
Jul 21, 2012 at 12:45 PM UTC
Physical and spiritual ecstasy
Sharing a meditative experience within this circular flow of energy
Wave after wave of cosmic telepathy
Diving into our heavenly destiny
Biochemical magic; tremendously healing and aligning chakras pleasantly
Absorbing the suns energy and visualizing the manifestation of longevity all the while detoxifying and transforming monumentally
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 7:42 AM UTC
At first
She was
But a whisper in my heart
A singular beat
A fleeting moment
That grew monumentally
And
Surely now
Without her
I'd experience death
Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 10:18 AM UTC
Thick as thieves and red handed I'm one of them.
I'll hang for this surely.
For what I stole, so monumentally precious.
I couldn't stop myself like temptation was all I am.
The river runs with tender elegance.
But not like yours.
The candle flames burn with scorching warmth.
But not like yours.
A thousand roses flower in an endless beauty.
But not like yours.
The lilies with their careful scent consumes me with hope.
But not like yours.
They call me a thief.
How can that be, when you stole my heart.
Pulling all the right strings from the very very start.
I'll hang for this I know it.
I'll take my punishment with pride.
For what I stole...
A precious fleeting moment.
One I do not wish to hide.
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 6:03 AM UTC
i just need that right moment
to run from this perfect amalgam of confusion and doubt
this overcooked stew of panic and frenzy
hide in a space where i could infinitely freeze
and stare out cold, stunned and lifeless
feel my heart take its sullen pause
and cry...damn, howl even
into the unreachable depths of sorrow
at the mind-boggling finality
of losing you...
i need to get over this.
the ending has got to be so clear
no ifs, no buts, no more gut-wrenching self-persecution
i need that ******* perfect moment
to nail this ******* coffin.
i need that precious moment to grieve
cash in my pure unadulterated mourning
my monumentally epic funeral
one that would put your self-loathing to shame
as i shed my shameless tears for you
for losing you,
the incredibly amazing you...
and for losing us,
the one-in-a-million Us.
when can I have that moment?
please?
Mar 3, 2012
Mar 3, 2012 at 1:14 PM UTC
The insignificance of a human life:
How monumentally minuscule it is.
Yet to survive,
To breathe in another sunrise,
To keep the generations coming,
The individual's most logical choice
Is to value itself above everything.
The realization of the self's grand insignificance
Is counterintuitive to its survival,
Thus, sentient life is inexorably tied to delusion;
To bent truths,
And comfortable lies.
Confronting one's futility,
However,
Often leads to desolation.
So fold yourselves within, humans,
Find a soft spot within your minds
And plant there the seeds of your joy.
Do not squander the little time you have
With things beyond your comprehension
The infinite cosmos is not for you.
Care for those that you love,
Fill your lungs with wild air,
Embrace your domain,
And live without refrain.
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 10:42 AM UTC
and so very singularily, we
come. we go, we **** we **** we live, we die
we pretend so monumentally
that we really give a **** at all
watching the flesh of god take human form
and all the beauty here around, all the light
all the sacredness that is love itself
oh, yeah....such a ******* game that is here
wondering so intently how we should treat
illegal immigrants and friggin queers
and never seeing eachother eye to eye
what is the truth...what the lie my friend?
talk....cheap talk///we babble til the end!!!
Read more: http://hellopoetry.com/poem/sonnet-in-raw-anger/#ixzz0sOUODhU3
Jun 30, 2010
Jun 30, 2010 at 6:32 PM UTC
And here I thought you were fixed.
You shoved a few bottles of fixed
into your system
and called me because
I am helpless to help you.
This hopeless helplessness
and you were bleeding from
your mouth and all I could say
"I'm gonna miss you."
You're probably catatonic or dead
or comatose
with another 1 or your finger on send.
I'm sorry he didn't love you.
I thought you were better.
You and me had a lot in common.
Now it's probably just me and I feel empty,
and I hate you for this because the alternative
is no good, and I'm no good anyways
and I'm selfish here writing about me
but you're dead or I can't stop you.
What am I supposed to write about you?
You're not gorgeous, or funny,
you don't have a beautiful smile,
you're not silly or soft or kind
or kind of an ***
You're just ******* dead by now I guess.
You should've been breaking hearts
in backseats and bathrooms
and writing novels for lovers to
commit to memory
or professors to loom over melancholic
and sad, ******* sad, ******* too sad to cry.
You're not amazing anymore.
You're probably dead.
I'm twelve tones of ****** up,
and you gave me hope,
and all these people keep coming to me
and I'm broken and lonely and ******* up
and I'm sorry I wasn't there,
I thought you were better.
I know you want me to think it's not my fault,
but here's the ******* kicker
[because I can kick the blame, but];
I still could've been there.
You're probably dead now.
You ******* idiot.
I want to feel sorry, but why?
Why? I hate you for this.
I hate you for doing this.
I hate you for doing this.
I just ******* wished you'd just
see that me and you deserved living
and I don't believe in ghosts
but now you're another demon
in my closet in my head over my shoulder
out where a god should be.
I knew I couldn't fix you,
and now we have that in common too.
I loved you. I'm so sorry I was so afraid to just say it. I was afraid this would happen, and now it has anyways and it was so ******* stupid. I've never ****** up so monumentally. I just didn't know. I swear if you had just told me sooner, I would've been there. I didn't hate you, I just wanted you to find someone else. I didn't hate you.
But now you've gone,
and you've left me here
and you're probably dead,
and even if you're a vegetable on blue sheets
a white corpse on the floor,
a demon in my red heaven,
a ghost under my bed,
a skeleton in my closet,
or the hand that holds the next
nail in my coffin steady as the tide,
Now, I hate you for this.
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 4:34 AM UTC
I am not numb
For numb is having emotions too much to bare
Too complicated to sift through
Too tangle up to sort out
Too overwhelming to rise above
That everything just merges into nothing.
Robotics
Mechanics
Manic antics.
No longer unmotivated
No longer too scared to try
No longer too pained to care
No longer too hurt to love.
The threads you were hanging on by we're annihalated.
But you're not falling
Or panicking
Or soaring
Or dying
You're just existing.
Going through the motions of the decent or the flight.
Taking everything in your stride.
Not faltering
Not altering the way you do things.
Everything is transformed
Emotion feels nonexistent
And thoughts become frail.
But my days are numbered.
Not because I can't feel
Or won't feel
But because everything is mediocre.
Soaring is going up
Plummeting is going down
Rising above the **** is up
Being in he'll is going down
Torture is annoying pain
Euphoria is mild joyfulness
Depression is a shadow
Love is a fleck of light
Being haunted is remembering
Thoughts are just there
And my existence is passing me by.
My days are numbered
Because my torturous reward is this cage.
This daze
This haze
This maze of feelings
Impossible to navigate when everything is foggy.
My days are numbered
Because when you push something so far away
You're just giving it momentum to hit monumentally harder.
And I can't escape this daze
But when I'm released...
I fear the outcome.
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 4:11 PM UTC
and so very singularily, we
come. we go, we **** we **** we live, we die
we pretend so monumentally
that we really give a **** at all
watching the flesh of god take human form
and all the beauty here around, all the light
all the sacredness that is love itself
oh, yeah....such a ******* game that is here
wondering so intently how we should treat
illegal immigrants and friggin queers
and never seeing eachother eye to eye
what is the truth...what the lie my friend?
talk....cheap talk///we babble til the end!!!
Jun 30, 2010
Jun 30, 2010 at 6:27 PM UTC
how deeply flowers
in spring's warm fist
(between whose fingers)
, , , , ,mumble lithe plumes
of cherry cotton
and sugar virile
(the candy of sweaty days
waters in the clamor of
my mouth) monumentally
perfusing rills
(trickling out Morpheus' ear
(
and into thy own))
May 1, 2011
May 1, 2011 at 11:40 PM UTC
I stumbled upon a thought of you and I walked right past
I turned around ignoring the warning I heard someone yell
At the top of my lungs I screamed your name
But you cold-heartedly walked away
And I was left there on my own
Without your warmth; I froze
Every breath cracked my lungs
Every pound scarred my heart
Every minute pierced my soul, unleashing it
And every blink opened up my eye, truly
For once I could see
Without the help of any vision enhancing tool
But the pure vision one is born with, unveiled
A revolution capable of monumentally alternating a belief
A reinvention of what it has been and what it should be
For it should be what I want it to
A warm gust came over me
I turned once again and was astonished to see the image I saw
It was you, your warmth engulfing your flesh, your soul
And there I was just a breeze of cool air
Capable of saving you from yourself
But listening this time, I walked away.
Oct 29, 2010
Oct 29, 2010 at 8:04 AM UTC
Ever since I was nine I have been unsure of where to call home.
You see my parents had divorced and moved to live apart.
Ever since I was nine I feel guilt calling the others house home when in the presence of the other parent.
I have heard the phrase “Home is where the heart is”
and if this is true that I and my shattered, blackening heart
are both royally and monumentally ******
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 10:24 AM UTC
What if there was an event so monumentally Tragic
or that could be portrayed as such by the media corporations
that the Government, with it it's ulterior motives,
would capitalize on it to ensure that their own goals are met?
Any excuse to tighten the clamp of Enforcement
and to broaden the spectrum of subsidized Authority
to preclude any voice of dissent from being heard
seems to be jumped upon by those in Power nowadays.
I implore thee to ponder the chances
of a Tragedy being staged so as to put on a show
wherein Government is Director and leading role
and the Populous is the Audience.
I do not claim that this is the case
I just have my reservations.
Two dead and scores injured.
What about the bombings each day that we inflict on innocents of other nations?
What about the bombings of religious buildings by people of a different religion?
What about the executions that occur on American soil, in prisons or otherwise?
Woe is us
and us alone.
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 4:45 PM UTC
() ()
:•: <•>
&
~
Sounds like ****
-:/:-
Angry insistence on our RIGHT to be angry
( okay )
The RIGHT to ruthlessly retaliate (?)
COME LET'S WALK TOGETHER FOR AWHILE
••
hush /-: -/ wait
Until the children stop screaming
:-:
All the wisdom crumpled up
Thrown to the floor
/:/
The gentle simple humanity
( what's that -- ? )
COME WALK THE STARK NIGHT ON YOUR OWN
••
Little Joey Sweet Kiss
ain't here
Just the prostitutes and the pimps
And the johns and the pain
Yes the pain
The indescribable pain is here
(& you -- is that you there ?)
••
The pages -- torn pages
the monumentally vast pages
The pained poetical sensibilities
Torn and swirling
In the night winds eddies
Twisting grotesquely
In the alleyways
Where OUR children are sleeping
Wailing and weeping
WHO LEFT THEM THERE?
after the love and the lust and the games
That created them are too boring to be played
Out on THE STAGE anymore
••
and then of course
The years
Our Unfathomable sadness
Totally immune
To
Our rage and our fear
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 2:47 PM UTC
I want to believe you.
I want to believe that I
Ignite something new in you
And bring light into your life,
But its hard.
Its hard for me to imagine
That there is any light left in me.
The idea that I am not barren,
But an oasis where you feel
You can rest within
Scares me.
I have lived my whole life
As nothing. I have been taught
That being something like this
In someone elses eyes
Is devastating.
Because to be this thing,
This light that cannot be put out,
Is so monumentally important
That there is no way it was
Meant for me.
I can only hope that as you
Stare into the wreck that
Is unfortunately everything I am,
You still find something
Worth while.
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 3:10 AM UTC
I googled once "places for singles to go to re inspire love"
The first was
A picture of Barcelona, Spain
The art
The water
The food
All fire starters
For the piles of dried up cherry hearts I've been carrying
Underneath my left arm ike firewood thru a forest of faith
Lost, yet somehow on my way somewhere
With a full itinerary
I have scaled mountains with my eyes closed
I have swam oceans holding my breath backwards
Barely upright I have walked the lowest valleys
Breath taking-ly beautiful things scare me
So I close my eyes when I kiss
I hold them monumentally wide when I make love
I am waiting for nothing
I am hoping for enough faith
To freak fear out
I want to love you purely
so I'll get these kinks out before you meet me
In Barcelona xoxo
Jul 5, 2018
Jul 5, 2018 at 1:52 PM UTC
Make way for the Heavens are coming back one day
I saved an extra spot on the school bus for you
Strip me of my skin to find the pieces you actually want
They exist somewhere under all the sorrow in my marrow
I will thank midnight for your feet come morning
How monumentally beautiful it is for you to be fond of my smile
Mustering up just enough courage to mention my hair
This feels like yesterday, almost as if me and God had been here already
Each time the smoke kisses your lips I recognize something new about you
I'm not sure if it's the music or the smell of you next to me but it's rather sensational
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 9:11 AM UTC