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Sara L Russell Oct 2013
(a satirical pop at the Illuminati)*

It's time to slay fatted consumer cows
It's time to fumigate the Great Unwashed;
To sow mutation's seeds behind the ploughs
To see the dullard's dreams forever quashed.

How movingly they pray not to be harmed!
How doggedly they work to make a wage!
How prettily they line up to be farmed,
Yet, how they long to be at centre stage!

The Useless Eaters eat their pizzas deep,
Their double fries and creamy mayonnaise;
Produce only some methane while asleep,
And fodder for landfill, throughout their days.

It's time for the superiors to win;
Unleash the virus, let the cull begin.
Thence we went on to the Aeoli island where lives ****** son of
Hippotas, dear to the immortal gods. It is an island that floats (as
it were) upon the sea, iron bound with a wall that girds it. Now,
****** has six daughters and six ***** sons, so he made the sons marry
the daughters, and they all live with their dear father and mother,
feasting and enjoying every conceivable kind of luxury. All day long
the atmosphere of the house is loaded with the savour of roasting
meats till it groans again, yard and all; but by night they sleep on
their well-made bedsteads, each with his own wife between the
blankets. These were the people among whom we had now come.
  “****** entertained me for a whole month asking me questions all the
time about Troy, the Argive fleet, and the return of the Achaeans. I
told him exactly how everything had happened, and when I said I must
go, and asked him to further me on my way, he made no sort of
difficulty, but set about doing so at once. Moreover, he flayed me a
prime ox-hide to hold the ways of the roaring winds, which he shut
up in the hide as in a sack—for Jove had made him captain over the
winds, and he could stir or still each one of them according to his
own pleasure. He put the sack in the ship and bound the mouth so
tightly with a silver thread that not even a breath of a side-wind
could blow from any quarter. The West wind which was fair for us did
he alone let blow as it chose; but it all came to nothing, for we were
lost through our own folly.
  “Nine days and nine nights did we sail, and on the tenth day our
native land showed on the horizon. We got so close in that we could
see the stubble fires burning, and I, being then dead beat, fell
into a light sleep, for I had never let the rudder out of my own
hands, that we might get home the faster. On this the men fell to
talking among themselves, and said I was bringing back gold and silver
in the sack that ****** had given me. ‘Bless my heart,’ would one turn
to his neighbour, saying, ‘how this man gets honoured and makes
friends to whatever city or country he may go. See what fine prizes he
is taking home from Troy, while we, who have travelled just as far
as he has, come back with hands as empty as we set out with—and now
****** has given him ever so much more. Quick—let us see what it
all is, and how much gold and silver there is in the sack he gave
him.’
  “Thus they talked and evil counsels prevailed. They loosed the sack,
whereupon the wind flew howling forth and raised a storm that
carried us weeping out to sea and away from our own country. Then I
awoke, and knew not whether to throw myself into the sea or to live on
and make the best of it; but I bore it, covered myself up, and lay
down in the ship, while the men lamented bitterly as the fierce
winds bore our fleet back to the Aeolian island.
  “When we reached it we went ashore to take in water, and dined
hard by the ships. Immediately after dinner I took a herald and one of
my men and went straight to the house of ******, where I found him
feasting with his wife and family; so we sat down as suppliants on the
threshold. They were astounded when they saw us and said, ‘Ulysses,
what brings you here? What god has been ill-treating you? We took
great pains to further you on your way home to Ithaca, or wherever
it was that you wanted to go to.’
  “Thus did they speak, but I answered sorrowfully, ‘My men have
undone me; they, and cruel sleep, have ruined me. My friends, mend
me this mischief, for you can if you will.’
  “I spoke as movingly as I could, but they said nothing, till their
father answered, ‘Vilest of mankind, get you gone at once out of the
island; him whom heaven hates will I in no wise help. Be off, for
you come here as one abhorred of heaven. “And with these words he sent
me sorrowing from his door.
  “Thence we sailed sadly on till the men were worn out with long
and fruitless rowing, for there was no longer any wind to help them.
Six days, night and day did we toil, and on the seventh day we reached
the rocky stronghold of Lamus—Telepylus, the city of the
Laestrygonians, where the shepherd who is driving in his sheep and
goats [to be milked] salutes him who is driving out his flock [to
feed] and this last answers the salute. In that country a man who
could do without sleep might earn double wages, one as a herdsman of
cattle, and another as a shepherd, for they work much the same by
night as they do by day.
  “When we reached the harbour we found it land-locked under steep
cliffs, with a narrow entrance between two headlands. My captains took
all their ships inside, and made them fast close to one another, for
there was never so much as a breath of wind inside, but it was
always dead calm. I kept my own ship outside, and moored it to a
rock at the very end of the point; then I climbed a high rock to
reconnoitre, but could see no sign neither of man nor cattle, only
some smoke rising from the ground. So I sent two of my company with an
attendant to find out what sort of people the inhabitants were.
  “The men when they got on shore followed a level road by which the
people draw their firewood from the mountains into the town, till
presently they met a young woman who had come outside to fetch
water, and who was daughter to a Laestrygonian named Antiphates. She
was going to the fountain Artacia from which the people bring in their
water, and when my men had come close up to her, they asked her who
the king of that country might be, and over what kind of people he
ruled; so she directed them to her father’s house, but when they got
there they found his wife to be a giantess as huge as a mountain,
and they were horrified at the sight of her.
  “She at once called her husband Antiphates from the place of
assembly, and forthwith he set about killing my men. He snatched up
one of them, and began to make his dinner off him then and there,
whereon the other two ran back to the ships as fast as ever they
could. But Antiphates raised a hue and cry after them, and thousands
of sturdy Laestrygonians sprang up from every quarter—ogres, not men.
They threw vast rocks at us from the cliffs as though they had been
mere stones, and I heard the horrid sound of the ships crunching up
against one another, and the death cries of my men, as the
Laestrygonians speared them like fishes and took them home to eat
them. While they were thus killing my men within the harbour I drew my
sword, cut the cable of my own ship, and told my men to row with alf
their might if they too would not fare like the rest; so they laid out
for their lives, and we were thankful enough when we got into open
water out of reach of the rocks they hurled at us. As for the others
there was not one of them left.
  “Thence we sailed sadly on, glad to have escaped death, though we
had lost our comrades, and came to the Aeaean island, where Circe
lives a great and cunning goddess who is own sister to the magician
Aeetes—for they are both children of the sun by Perse, who is
daughter to Oceanus. We brought our ship into a safe harbour without a
word, for some god guided us thither, and having landed we there for
two days and two nights, worn out in body and mind. When the morning
of the third day came I took my spear and my sword, and went away from
the ship to reconnoitre, and see if I could discover signs of human
handiwork, or hear the sound of voices. Climbing to the top of a
high look-out I espied the smoke of Circe’s house rising upwards
amid a dense forest of trees, and when I saw this I doubted whether,
having seen the smoke, I would not go on at once and find out more,
but in the end I deemed it best to go back to the ship, give the men
their dinners, and send some of them instead of going myself.
  “When I had nearly got back to the ship some god took pity upon my
solitude, and sent a fine antlered stag right into the middle of my
path. He was coming down his pasture in the forest to drink of the
river, for the heat of the sun drove him, and as he passed I struck
him in the middle of the back; the bronze point of the spear went
clean through him, and he lay groaning in the dust until the life went
out of him. Then I set my foot upon him, drew my spear from the wound,
and laid it down; I also gathered rough grass and rushes and twisted
them into a fathom or so of good stout rope, with which I bound the
four feet of the noble creature together; having so done I hung him
round my neck and walked back to the ship leaning upon my spear, for
the stag was much too big for me to be able to carry him on my
shoulder, steadying him with one hand. As I threw him down in front of
the ship, I called the men and spoke cheeringly man by man to each
of them. ‘Look here my friends,’ said I, ‘we are not going to die so
much before our time after all, and at any rate we will not starve
so long as we have got something to eat and drink on board.’ On this
they uncovered their heads upon the sea shore and admired the stag,
for he was indeed a splendid fellow. Then, when they had feasted their
eyes upon him sufficiently, they washed their hands and began to
cook him for dinner.
  “Thus through the livelong day to the going down of the sun we
stayed there eating and drinking our fill, but when the sun went
down and it came on dark, we camped upon the sea shore. When the child
of morning, fingered Dawn, appeared, I called a council and said,
‘My friends, we are in very great difficulties; listen therefore to
me. We have no idea where the sun either sets or rises, so that we
do not even know East from West. I see no way out of it; nevertheless,
we must try and find one. We are certainly on an island, for I went as
high as I could this morning, and saw the sea reaching all round it to
the horizon; it lies low, but towards the middle I saw smoke rising
from out of a thick forest of trees.’
  “Their hearts sank as they heard me, for they remembered how they
had been treated by the Laestrygonian Antiphates, and by the savage
ogre Polyphemus. They wept bitterly in their dismay, but there was
nothing to be got by crying, so I divided them into two companies
and set a captain over each; I gave one company to Eurylochus, while I
took command of the other myself. Then we cast lots in a helmet, and
the lot fell upon Eurylochus; so he set out with his twenty-two men,
and they wept, as also did we who were left behind.
  “When they reached Circe’s house they found it built of cut
stones, on a site that could be seen from far, in the middle of the
forest. There were wild mountain wolves and lions prowling all round
it—poor bewitched creatures whom she had tamed by her enchantments
and drugged into subjection. They did not attack my men, but wagged
their great tails, fawned upon them, and rubbed their noses lovingly
against them. As hounds crowd round their master when they see him
coming from dinner—for they know he will bring them something—even
so did these wolves and lions with their great claws fawn upon my men,
but the men were terribly frightened at seeing such strange creatures.
Presently they reached the gates of the goddess’s house, and as they
stood there they could hear Circe within, singing most beautifully
as she worked at her loom, making a web so fine, so soft, and of
such dazzling colours as no one but a goddess could weave. On this
Polites, whom I valued and trusted more than any other of my men,
said, ‘There is some one inside working at a loom and singing most
beautifully; the whole place resounds with it, let us call her and see
whether she is woman or goddess.’
  “They called her and she came down, unfastened the door, and bade
them enter. They, thinking no evil, followed her, all except
Eurylochus, who suspected mischief and stayed outside. When she had
got them into her house, she set them upon benches and seats and mixed
them a mess with cheese, honey, meal, and Pramnian but she drugged
it with wicked poisons to make them forget their homes, and when
they had drunk she turned them into pigs by a stroke of her wand,
and shut them up in her pigsties. They were like pigs-head, hair,
and all, and they grunted just as pigs do; but their senses were the
same as before, and they remembered everything.
  “Thus then were they shut up squealing, and Circe threw them some
acorns and beech masts such as pigs eat, but Eurylochus hurried back
to tell me about the sad fate of our comrades. He was so overcome with
dismay that though he tried to speak he could find no words to do
so; his eyes filled with tears and he could only sob and sigh, till at
last we forced his story out of him, and he told us what had
happened to the others.
  “‘We went,’ said he, as you told us, through the forest, and in
the middle of it there was a fine house built with cut stones in a
place that could be seen from far. There we found a woman, or else she
was a goddess, working at her loom and singing sweetly; so the men
shouted to her and called her, whereon she at once came down, opened
the door, and invited us in. The others did not suspect any mischief
so they followed her into the house, but I stayed where I was, for I
thought there might be some treachery. From that moment I saw them
no more, for not one of them ever came out, though I sat a long time
watching for them.’
  “Then I took my sword of bronze and slung it over my shoulders; I
also took my bow, and told Eurylochus to come back with me and show me
the way. But he laid hold of me with both his hands and spoke
piteously, saying, ‘Sir, do not force me to go with you, but let me
stay here, for I know you will not bring one of them back with you,
nor even return alive yourself; let us rather see if we cannot
escape at any rate with the few that are left us, for we may still
save our lives.’
  “‘Stay where you are, then, ‘answered I, ‘eating and drinking at the
ship, but I must go, for I am most urgently bound to do so.’
  “With this I left the ship and went up inland. When I got through
the charmed grove, and was near the great house of the enchantress
Circe, I met Mercury with his golden wand, disguised as a young man in
the hey-day of his youth and beauty with the down just coming upon his
face. He came up to me and took my hand within his own, saying, ‘My
poor unhappy man, whither are you going over this mountain top,
alone and without knowing the way? Your men are shut up in Circe’s
pigsties, like so many wild boars in their lairs. You surely do not
fancy that you can set them free? I can tell you that you will never
get back and will have to stay there with the rest of them. But
never mind, I will protect you and get you out of your difficulty.
Take this herb, which is one of great virtue, and keep it about you
when you go to Circe’s house, it will be a talisman to you against
every kind of mischief.
  “‘And I will tell you of all the wicked witchcraft that Circe will
try to practise upon you. She will mix a mess for you to drink, and
she will drug the meal with which she makes it, but she will not be
able to charm you, for the virtue of the herb that I shall give you
will prevent her spells from working. I will tell you all about it.
When Circe strikes you with her wand, draw your sword and spring
upon her as though you were goings to **** her. She will then be
frightened and will desire you to go to bed with her; on this you must
not point blank refuse her, for you want her to set your companions
free, and to take good care also of yourself, but you make her swear
solemnly by all the blessed that she will plot no further mischief
against you, or else when she has got you naked she will unman you and
make you fit for nothing.’
  “As he spoke he pulled the herb out of the ground an showed me
what it was like. The root was black, while the flower was as white as
milk; the gods call it Moly, and mortal men cannot uproot it, but
the gods can do whatever they like.
  “Then Mercury went back to high Olympus passing over the wooded
island; but I fared onward to the house of Circe, and my heart was
clouded with care as I walked along. When I got to the gates I stood
there and called the goddess, and as soon as she hear
Night Flyer Jul 2015
October winds, they came at last
Across the hills and ponds, they passed
And strewed bright autumn leaves around
So wonderful, their stirring sound
Relentlessly, they lured my mind
Down ancient paths that ever wind
So forthwith I sped through my door
Toward Massapoag's long sandy shore
And to the windy beach, I came
As waters glowed with twilight's flame
I felt your love on me enfold
As I gazed out on waters gold
So movingly, our hearts were one
Neath crimson rays of setting sun
Though far across the land, you dwelt
Eternal was the love I felt
That spanned the mountains and the seas
And rode the wild Autumn breeze
Now Autumn days to Winter, turn
This vision will, in my heart, burn.
This a poem I wrote in 2010 after I came up to New England temporarily and was missing my best friend in Florida, Mari Ann.
Samir Jun 2012
an anomaly
few roots are many roots of the same tree
from outside I am within the bark that encloses me

here ye here ye! polygonal me
mocking you an apology
all a'Riddle first due to the very nature
my skin my leaf

contradictory, the roots they twist on me
the vines of me
the veins of me

my pain you cannot see
my pain you cannot see

double vision two no three
four or infinity to a varying degree

my body tis' of thee, tangled up insanity
of thee I sing

***** from my fathers side
egg from my mothers side
brain and heart formaldehyde
let my moods swing

polygonal me an anomaly
normally unnatural
and artificially indeed
through means of fabrication
and good malicious deed

confiscatory generous
and metaphorically my breed
sarcastically scholastic
institutionalized branches
from the end to my seed

divinely soulless
constrictedly free
interestingly boring
grammatical greed

desperately selfish
slowly with speed
movingly static
hungry to feed

constantly moving
polygonal anomaly
how many sides
to a coin always flipping
to a coin always spinning

polygonal me
transparency
just
like
a
tree

there are many sides to a story
through shadows cannot see
the interlocking counterparts
elbows, knees, branches on trees.

who says they can't get along?
I say they have to disagree.
why can't they just let it be?
why don't you be you?...
and me be me me me me.

Just like a tree
whistling and singing
chirping with glee
waking me up at 6:30
though shadows cannot see
an anomaly sometimes
they play tricks on me

polygonal me
Aaron LaLux Oct 2016
Universal Language of Love

Poets are supposed to be,
the moral scribes of our current Times,
writing words that are lyrical lessons,
expressed in stanzas and rhymes,

so I suppose if poets are supposed to be,
then occasionally we are Martyrs as well,
but I will gladly be crucified for our collective sins,
if it means our daughters don’t have to live in a Hell,

well then,
if that’s the case so be it,
here we go another Prose,
I didn’t write the rules I just call it like I see it,

we could all be a little more kind,
we could all be a little more fair,
we could all help heal this world,
all we have to do is actually care,

see it’s not enough to just talk with compassion,
we have to manifest that compassion passionately into action,
only then will we be the change we want to see,
and actually manifest what we really want to see happen,

let’s start with calling a truce,
universally,
we’ve all endured enough abuse,
truthfully,

let’s stop dropping bombs,
let’s stop shooting guns,
let’s stop following false leaders,
let’s show some Light of Hope to the Young,

let’s release all non violent offenders,
from the rusty bowels of the for profit prison system,
let’s let them return to their respective families,
for surely they are all loved and have loved ones that miss them,

let’s remember,
we all have Mothers and Fathers,
recognize that that Man is someone’s Son,
and that Woman is someone’s Daughter,

have some respect for God’s sake,

have some love for the Loveless,
and I know it sounds way too cliche,
but let’s finally give Peace a chance,
and let’s give all of our love away,

let’s give love a way,

it’s okay,

honestly,
anyone can shoot an enemy,
but to embrace someone totally different,
now that takes real strength,

come on,
it feel good to feel good when you help someone feel good,
violence is over and done with we are the Ones with the funds Kid,
we can create the picture perfect frame no games and #nofilter,

the Rhythm is a dancer,
and Love is a healer,
music can communicate,
nature can be a great teacher,

breathe you’re,
alive,
this is your life,
anything wrong we can make right,

You choose what You do not the News,
the News is the Blues and You’re the Rainbow after a Rainstorm,
You are as Beautiful as You want to be,
don’t judge someone on their physical body ask Tom Ford,

“As humans we do respond to certain things,
on some sort of very deep level,
we find symmetry of the face more pleasing than not,
at least in general.
But overall we are are so completely conditioned,
to think certain things are beautiful and others are not,
I cast some people who I did not necessarily originally think of as beautiful,
in the latest film that I am working on.
And through filming them,
watching them and editing them,
I now find them beautiful,
and actually quite movingly eloquent.
Which got me wondering,
why did I originally not think of them as beautiful?
If you can divorce yourself,
from what contemporary culture has told us is beautiful,
you can find beauty in places you wouldn’t expect.”,

Tom said it best,
instead of needing emotional anesthetic,
to add to your personal aesthetics,
that’s right I wrote it and Tom Ford said it,

with the exception of a few of my edits,
see we all act in this Movie so we all deserve some credit,
which leads me to this inquiry,
what do you want your tombstone to read when God roles the credits?

This is all real,
no special effects,
this is your life,
live and direct,

so what are you going to choose to do,
sit down shut up and quietly wait for your light to burn out,
or stand up,
let loose and choose to speak out!

This is it,
it’s your life you have to choose not me,
you’re your own leader living your life,
I just write it because I’m the writer and this is the poetry,

because poets are here to spark the thoughts,
that invoke the change that comes from commentary that’s controversial,
because we might all speak in different tongues,
but we all know that Love is the only language that’s truly universal…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
I Still Love You...
Adam Schwab Jul 2013
Say goodbye through the crackly shield of my car .
The eyelids of mine so heavy as steel.
I'm tired and weak an I have drove to far
To a place that's far from real

Don't let your heavy wings pull you down , make you frill
Make you frown,
My angel

Let me lift you up, as you  have done since day 1
Make me a drug to heighten your mind
I can't be alone at this time

I saw your hurt, like a mirror
Movingly blood through veins I didn't know we're real
Somewhere deep, came a tear
Rubbed on your cheek, we were sealed

Don't be down, don't leave me down
Ill be your king, just give me the crown
Don't let your heavy wings pull you down, make you frail, make you frown,
My angel
TinyMtn Nov 2010
I am in love with what I could be
I am rooted in stagnant ambition
Tied to the sky and still pulled by gravity
Full of detail but lacking definition
I see stars hung in my eyes
I know rainbows surge in my veins
But it's cloudy where my body lies
And my most colorful ideas are blots and stains
My hands and mouth make no music
My soul has songs pulsing to be played
I can make a word bend to movingly use it
But still feel locked up today
I am in love with what I could be
A stunning display of divine creation
There's something burning colors inside of me
It burns for satiation
Mirza Lazim Jan 2018
It was the third day of my madness caused by your doom
And my inner poet was lying with glooms
trying to perish
But your force was so strong and refreshing,
I felt his endless will to rise again and live
I was afraid to look his eyes even a moment
I had deprived him of worth, had left him to die
I was afraid hereafter of his conviction
I knew he was stronger because he had you...
But what I had my own, except my paltriness?!
What I did to save you
when you relentlessly put an end to yourself inside me?!
He said that he lived more vividly and worthily
And he deserved to live even more than me...
He asked what I had achieved more than ten years?
I shut up only, like before you had also made me
You had called all that I felt only complaints
But in fact, I had perceived you had also been afraid
To face the damages which you had caused to me...

Yes, my dear friend, I often have heavy damages
I was always traumatized in dimensional clashes
As I betray my eigen* and leave myself alone,
I begin to acknowledge my all emptiness
You can just exist in vain with your mind and logic
But you can truly live only by accepting your feelings valuable...

I got my strength with fire in my heart,
I was watching my growing power,
Which was circulating  along my freezing veins
I hugged my innocent, suffering poet,
I promised to create - my own highest values,
My predecessors, my sufferer poet and me
would live hereafter disregarding yours!
But yet it was not fair, yet it was not worthwhile,
I had to cling to my dimensions much more deeply
I was full of energy and had everything to fight,
There appeared a dream to share my horizons I would gain thereafter...
But I lacked you... Who deserved to see it most than others...
As the one who was able to do the impossible
which no one had been able to do before...
You had to see my intentional life you had presented...

I wandered among the graves in my "graveheart",
Resurrected my all soulmates lying in chaos,
Who we shared our sacred dimensions of solitude
Who were craving to be felt and to be understood
Nietzche, Schopenhauer, Cioran lead them of course...
I brought them to life with the laughter you had taught me,
We marched side by side to the source of vitality,
We saluted Martin Eden
and vowed to avenge his suicidal also!

We movingly reached the end of my heart,
where your awesome grave was lying
I kept your cold remedial hands,
As I smiled, in return you smiled warmer than me,
You know, I can never smile or laugh as deep as you do,
I faithfully said that I wanted to live,
I promised one day I would laugh even more deeply than you do.
I understood you had wanted me just to be strong,
However, you hadn't been able to understand me again once more...
As women represent themselves as a tool to strong ones,
contrary they represent themselves as a present to the weak
That is why I was brawling and trying to withstand,
Could I accept you as another worthless thing rather than a present?!

I embraced you and internalized your
spirit,
All my soulmates exulted in it...
I and my pale poet set my new universe,
In company with the souls of our dimensions,
we raised you...
We raised you above all of the tortures and fears,
We raised you above all of the dimensions.
We raised you above all of the meanings,
We sacrificed the meaning of life for you
and I made you the center of my universe
You began to shine like the sun in my life,
Then all separated values and meanings
began in harmony to whirl around you
Around the sun of my worthwhile universe...
*Eigen - inner self, ownself
Still Crazy Oct 4
expertise irrelevant, a knowing
recognition where & when & why,
venn diagram inflection points
intersect, and also confine

the nirvana nexus on a line of dots in a
movingly motion connected by a formula that
has an equal 🟰 in its muddly middle the man’s best sole instructions to her only

solve! me

when in an moveable interaction
the power of rushing baking cake & it’s filling
is akin to trying to hold back a bucking stream that cannot both be ****** or dammed

running words, making
you obsessed to remember
every detail, but commas only,
never a period interrupting continuity no
essential points of exit and entry

and yet…

you cold stop to breathe
wondering how came you
to be a container intertwining
motifs and motives, desires contradictory,
control contrives to be a
controversy pressured pressed
together, and you want to stop, go,
turnings to touch,
she be tablet and he the pen,
and you wrack to remember each
detail, the poem complete or will
confusions reign supreme
and all the fantastical
schemes are shot to
hell, ink spilled,
house doused

and she good naturedly laughs at you,
cause she knows poet better than himself
and forgives him his inspirational
dazes and gazes of confusion
because it is hard to give when
giving birth to
a dream’s obsessive demands
to love one more
than the other

each deserves no rival, just a final fini,
she wants the same, but the heart
is where he keeps hid, exactly
what she needs, so forgives a
little, because loving a crazy
man after all these years
is taking the excesses
costly cause that be
an insanity desired,
what she loves,
the dusky duo
inside him
a constant
battle re
fusing
resolving
the man’s contradictories,
that she cherishes him for
more, his mired mind, more and
laughs at mores, cause it is never ending;

his more is feature why she loves him very best, she showers and laughs, he rushes in
puzzlement featured on his face, so invites him in and as he falls to his knees in a watery
embrace, while grasping her hips, she
states with a finality: “‘
*”let us discuss the importance of proper endings”
still crazy
recreational writing & ***
Rocky Mar 2014
There she lives far away in the universe.......
She smiles a little knowingly and grins a little movingly,
but she knows the future so she doesn't worry.....
And the fact that she doesn't worry makes me fall in love with her.

But she lives far away in a far away universe.....
while i live here with the bridge and the river,
But i hope our universes bridge or hers i discover.....
But i dont really care becoz i also equally love the river.
maudy May 2017
if i look at you
with movingly stare
would you stay still
in this emptiness i can't fill

as i reach the needle
stuck in this chest you adore
with the heavy sound of sighs
slipping through your lovely thick lips

you said you love me
but dear
do you believe that
we are in love.
Divya Kaushik Jun 2020
I look at your picture
A deep rooted memory
Rehashing your features
Feeling giddy with familiarity  

I observe your hair
A sounding valley
Clash of colors
With earthy balancing  

An enriching, warm smile
Makes drab walls radiate
For all the chips the walls keep
Absolute contrast your skin makes  

Smart and kind eyes
Movingly carved face
Look inviting for all
Needing contact or embrace  

Relaxed and composed
Fresh, appealing attire
Dainty like a sandy castle
Concealed strength to admire  

Physical cast aside
Perceptible by senses
Nimble, tenacious mind
Like wind mapping surfaces  

Compassion, consideration
As natural as breathing
Spring of kindness
Rarely impeded

Deep rooted loyalty
Veiled gentle protection
Ageless controlled fire
For those in the sanctum

Beneath the drawn armor
Lie spots of mischief
Hint of adulthood
Innocent, questioning beliefs

If all goes to ruin
You will still be loved
All that matters is
Existence of and for love.
Wrote it for my friend abroad on her birthday, and tried adding a little imagery to it.
Shivpriya Dec 2022
A friended stroll of my buried emotions!

The chest voice is still coping
with the straining quality of an inner alto.

O sense of high pitch,
have you forsaken your hope
to use the support of love for crooning quality.

Did I miss you in singing the pyramid of my emotions?
Or didn't I feel you in the supporting system of the
sweet notes and their perfect harmony?

I can't read you in the crimped edge of my thought process.
And this roots in the inner reasoning of having frustration.

The repetition of musical forms and
their fade out seems to be attractive.
But tell me,
What stage comes after the little more careful stage?
I see the embers of spark reflecting the feelings of your eyes.

The feelings movingly remind me of a sealed fate.
The sealed fate has to deal with
Your oasis eyes,
Your fire eyes.

I get a little hint from my budding self-analysis mode.
And I think it is okay not to use perfect antonyms
and synonyms while singing.
©️shivpoetesspriya
What do you say to the girl
Considering *** for the first time
She wants to know what it's like
And will it make her heart shine
Will it be tender, oh so movingly
No, I said, it's pretty gross,
And when you do get some
It's  a lot like sliding  straight
Down a staircase on your naked, sweaty ***.
Shivpriya Oct 2023
Honesty and Poetry healed my broken and blue!

A college is a refreshing start for any individual, especially those who have always been raised very protectively and provided the support of walls and boundaries covering them and acting as their saviors!
A towering Six-Storey, Multi-Sectional Modular building had impacted me sentimentally, reminding me of the protectiveness of school days! The new cray red color of the college walls was acting clean but carried the vibe of significant responsibility for many lives!
I felt a heavy heart that was tired of facing its daily notes and was keen to know what was lying ahead in pursuit of the daily activities at the college!

As I entered the student auditorium, I noticed the colorful banners hanging and decorated on the side walls and railing. It displayed titles such as "Best New Fresher," "Best Fresher Artist," and "Best Model." etc.

"Will you be singing with our group?" she asked. I replied, "No, I don't know how to sing!" Fear flashed in my eyes as I tried to pull my shoulder away from her grip. The girls in our batch shined in Florent colors; they gathered together in the center like a family of a colorful flower bouquet!

The other groups of boys in our batch created a loud sense of showing fashion as they passed by us! One of the boys enjoyed chewing his lollipop - He made a growling sound, funny enough to make other people laugh! He exclaimed, " Watch out! We have to back the first position at any cost."
As he sprinted away in the opposite direction of the auditorium, his hurried movements caused another person's books to tumble out of his grasp, scattering across the ground helplessly like a jigsaw puzzle unnoticed by others as they all were eagerly preparing to begin the program!
I made my way towards the scattered books. My honesty implored me and compelled me to ask about their desolate state.
I lowered my head and tried to silence the inner monologues which continued to yearn! As I glanced at the person I had collected books for,
he appeared fully immersed in his world!
On the other side, My desire to participate in cultural events led me to the stage where my friends had gathered for a poetry recitation.
I suddenly realized I had mistakenly taken his diary as I could feel the weight of my college purse weighing up. Frustrated with the sweat of the competitive events, I helplessly wondered and looked here and there to return his diary.

When I opened his journal with irritation, I was surprised to find many soulful poems.
As I read the beautiful words, I decided to recite a few lines and thought we could all win today. Every poem in that diary seemed to be smiling at me, and I returned the smile while feeling the beginning of a friendship at this moment. Two of my friends geeked into what I was reading so attentively and asked me what I would recite.
Without hesitation, I told them I chose to recite the 5th poem that he wrote, titled "Silence." I greeted the public with the poem and its stanzas, feeling amazed with every line I repeated.
As I started the recitation, I entered a mysteriously beautiful world where the falls from the peak of the hardship mountain felt like the cold fall on the charcoal ground of my broken enthusiasm. I could see different versions of my outlook carrying the saddest ghosts of the past, and those inner eyes of my heart walls began to seep a kinder note beneath their efforts to move on.
I didn't take credit for his work as it wasn't mine, so I told the audience that the writer's name remains unknown!
And in that moment, I felt a wave of peace wash over me, ending the inner war raging in my heart from the beginning of the day! I was relieved!
Until today, I feel grateful for the opportunity to embrace hidden honesty and do the right thing. It gifted me with a grateful start when the owner of the book of poems approached me afterward; he thanked me for not taking credit for his soulful art.

It was a soulful poem written by an unknown writer that gave me a new light and hope. It inspired me to set my heart free from the turmoil that refused to cease initially.

To this day, I agree and acknowledge this newly found appreciation for the power of truth! It is impressive how honesty and Silence can affect and soothe someone so movingly and others who try to feel it.

This incident has always infused me with great zeal as it increases my inner creative activity.
It helps me yearn to explore the untold depths lying at the core corner of any subject and write many poems.

I'm grateful for this experience and the truth's immense significance. Even today, I feel drawn to the allure of that poem because its words have miraculously conveyed honesty.

I'll always be thankful, and that's for sure!
©shivpoetesspriya
I have Added to my collection of short stories a new piece named "Honesty and Poetry healed my broken and blue!"

— The End —