"nightengale" poems
no more words
I quit
no longer saying
the right thing
the stranger who says
excuse me fix
my child
that’s it.
you do it you
solve their
problems.
file it all
lock it
up to be
checked out
by someone else’s
savior
because I’m
done with
being your
solve-the-trick
einstein florence
nightengale mother
theresa
failbot.
Oct 9, 2010
Oct 9, 2010 at 9:01 AM UTC
Soggy, forgotten rotten eggs. Sink side. Gobbledy gnus cruising, fast acting cheetah be cheetah for the eggs are scare and the Time is new. The few are no longer fastened tightly to these hatchlings, the weather is near and all the tides are complicated. I could stand around in my underwear, but there isn't a single night song or nightengale that would hear me. There's a thud on my head and a knock on the door, I can't sing my best, or try to impress thee. All of these letters un rest to the sound of your voice, even in calfskin a vegetarian can begin to have trouble breathing.
To the cables that untie thlemselves to a broom in a paradise, Pacific, galore. Forgot to. Invested. Contained poorl and drunks stowed in the holograms of hand-me-down prisms, here comes the infectuous lonely ol' lamb. This is the ewe song that sings you to sleep, keeps the sweat in your underwear. Where there is hunger there are poor but my gold chants forward to this Armageddon's sway.
If it means it in Greek than it does in cyrillic, if it's toxin you have rotted your bell. Inside my pink, neon briefs is a tale of insanity, where I had tried to squeeze out every ounce of relief that commenced while I was asleep.
There was only ever one of us that ran with the turmoil that romance does. Terminal two, Arizona-flu, carried through the ORD concourse I heard a saxophone tune. Final approach, a yawn. I'm home drinking ***** at 9:00am with my PJs on.
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 11:27 PM UTC
YOU!
you kissed me through a window!
what were you thinking?
you nearly pulled me off the balcony!
Not to mention my creeping vines
do you have any idea
how long it took me to grow those?!
Romeo......
Did you seriously just say
"where for art thou"
i mean come on...
you follow me home every day
i'm not ust your Juliet you know
Romeo.....
STOP TRYING TO TELL ME IT'S THE NIGHTENGALE!
it's obviously the lark
it's my alarm clock
you also have my bed curtains
and unless you intend to make me
like....
a night gown...
those are silk
Romeo.....
I think if this keeps up
i might just put myself to sleep.
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 6:10 PM UTC
---
soft
candle's
glance
on
amber
rings
the
moist
temple
where
blond
hair
clings
dark
whiskey
eyes
under
chandelier's
swings
the
single
note
where
a
cello
sings
i
stop
and
contemplate
these
things
unlike
puppets
we
had
no
strings
no
we
had
golden
nightengale
wings
soulsurvivor
(C) 8/32/2015
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 3:38 PM UTC
Once upon a time
There was a king I'm told
Who made a wish and all he touched
From then on turned to gold.
I guess what wish to make
No poor boy gets to choose
Because everything I touch
I turn to blues
I'd tell you all about
How it all began
When I knelt before my love
And asked her for her hand
But all to say of that
At this point isn't news
Because everything I touch
I turn to blues
Like every mother's child
I've heard the white dove's song
But every time I tune my string
And try to play along
Him for the nightengale
I just seem to confuse
Because everything I touch
I turn to blues
It happened to the river
When I filled up my cup
It happened to the sky above
When I threw my hands up
So let the road I walk
Be glad I wear my shoes
Because everything I touch
I turn to blues
So listen little darling
But once I'll tell you this
If you get bold and hold me close
To steal away a kiss
The color of your rosy lips
And cheeks you're bound to lose
Because everything I touch
I turn to blues
Jun 22, 2022
Jun 22, 2022 at 8:38 PM UTC
You say my name and it sounds the way a million rainbows would look.
Your smile, beautiful like the sunrise on a Sunday morning, leaves me radiating.
Your laugh resembles the song of a Nightengale and your hands fall over me feeling of ecstasy.
Your kisses, like waves over my body make me beg for more.
I crave your touch and yearn for your love.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 3:13 PM UTC
"The wakeful nightengale,
She all night long
her amorous descant sung;
Silence was pleas'd;
now glowed the firmament.
enraptured in flesh and ****** ecstasy
will her song sing out into the darkness
heavenly throes and sighs completed in united
bliss"
Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 9:50 PM UTC
Be the raven and the crow;
Search for things you do not know.
Be the magpie, should you desire
To uncover things once lost to fire.
Be not like the mockingbird,
Repeating any sound or word,
But be the raven or the crow,
Saying only what you know.
Be the raptor - the eagle, the hawk -
Prey upon those who mock.
Be the magpie, if you desire,
And find things once long lost to fire.
Hear the robin, hear the jay,
But listen not to what they say.
Do not be the mockingbird;
Do not heed just any word.
The owl and the nightengale
Will say under the moon-glow pale,
"Be the Raven, be the Crow
And tell me what I do not know."
Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 11:41 PM UTC