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sarah Jul 28
i’m  a raging sea
fighting the battles within me
you assume you know me
but all you really know
is what i allow you to see
and instead of understanding  
you choose to make assumptions
doomed by the surprises
i tend to reveal
look into my eyes
you’d see, the words
i dare not to speak
Krystal Alvarez Oct 2018
Knowing is simply impossible...


Feeling invisible


Completely unimaginable...


-- Walking a straight line, slightly to the left. Knees bent, heart weak, mind open.


If you held my hand for only a moment


I'd be lost


For that moment would be our last.
King Panda Mar 2017
No sun this morning. Rather,
Austin struck gray
Thru and thru.
There is a bite to god’s madness--16 years
Of sun before I came--16 years
Of fall, rain, fertile soil raised by
Red star.
You, obscured in morning, take my
Love out my mouth, my messenger in railed
Kisses.
King Panda Sep 2017
I pluck you a crocus
and all life becomes
a legend of the body

a torch-whipped storm
pastel in its fire
buries me in you

when I hand you the stem
a shake
and the yellow stamen

loses its dust

lady lady
forgets its bug
when I place the flower

in your vase

spots wiped black-less
insect no more
lady lady

the inspection of autumn
bulb-less growth
and a string of red

***** and betting its stripes

a tiny mound of dirt
obscured by rotting leaves

the last of you reaching for my hand
Arianna Jun 12
I.

Humidity coats my limbs with desert rain
as June unfurls in jasmine mists
the stench of summer
about the fragrant bed
where I have tasted draughts of Eternal Slumber,
and drunk my fill of half-dead visions.


II.

Indigo night settles vulture-like
over the silver plains,
swallowing the horizon beneath its wings.

Delirious in the face of Death,
I trace life lines through the stars;
but no path presents itself from the torch-obscured darkness.

Thus, choking on the fuming heat,
I succumb once more to leaden sleep.


III.

Recollections seep from deep-sea marrow,
flooding eyes wide open behind their lids
with blurred impressions, vague distortions.

Bound up in turquoise silk of the Nile,
the slightness of a blink
sails Time and Space
from silken bower to moonwashed grave.

Leopard without spots,
I shed my myrrh-oiled skin upon the banks:
gossamer crumpling into lotus waves,
summoning surrender
slick and serpentine.

A persuasive lover, the River clings
effortlessly along my sinking frame,
dropping gently through the currents
to plumb the peace of still waters
and quiet, spellbound dreams.
A(nother) devastatingly hot day.

Daemonia Nymphe - "Dios Astrapaiou":
https://youtu.be/6zEXzwH8nIc

Paintings: "Girl in Yellow Drapery", "Dolce Far Niente" (1897), "Dolce Far Niente" (1904), and "Dolce Far Niente" (1906) by John William Godward.
Johnny Agape Aug 2013
I figured it out.
I figured while watching you out in the rain.
From the obscured viewpoint of the warmth and safety of my seat, clashing against the temperature at odds with the outside, in  foggy condensation at my window.
Watching you,
Cold and wild
Wet and Savage.
You. You are the reason, I think.
I think.
For the expression,
"Hasn't enough sense to come out of the rain"
When you can see what's wrong, but can't convince someone to let you help. Something like that.
mila splawska Aug 20
and if you look hard enough at the photo
you can make out a rainbow in the corner
and in the end
i think that’s what we were
something nice that was
a little too obscured
(please don’t blame me, my dear)
ryn Dec 2014
Blades of grass shivered
As the fingers of the wind strum
A hum ever soft and hauntingly serene
Sweetest song my heart reluctantly would welcome

I stare into the minuscule expanse of land
The horizon does not exist far here...
But still my eyes would stretch
To see the obscured very clear

All alone save for the company of a lone tree
And the jovial chirps of annoying birds
On this island with very little space
Trying to find comfort in ill-arranged words

My eyes do see but my heart remains obstinate
Beauty of the universe would always invite
I could just jump and join in its merriment
But... I am just a tethered kite

I'd want to rise to the highest skies
To be one with the nature's song, composed and tuned
Alas bound to a string, I can only go so far
I am my own island,
                      *helpless and marooned...
WS Warner Jul 2014
Corpses proliferate in soaring violence; heirloom of franchise and eminence— perish in erosion.

Timid denizens of derision, cynicism in roaring silence — optimism’s paling vapor—commodity of Indecision, our halcyon days forgotten.

Chosen token of audacity; the onyx maladroit feigns, prevaricating beneath the Sacred canopy.

Etudes of apathy; attrition unlamented; streams of guile— quixotic squall conversely merge — veiled conceit, eloquent arrow of equivocation.

The policy of attenuation.

Treason’s vine obscured beneath the blind surf of consent.

© 2014 & 2016 W. S. Warner
Dark Fjord Dec 2016
the then and now... and then she came
where i am, departed,
  each ones life is a distressed selfie, 
and it takes just seconds,
  whose life became obscured
buttons up inside the mystery.
drink-her-in
Vera Jul 2018
July 4th, 2018

Where the land of the free has become obscured by the shadow
of oppression,

Its' silhouettes are the monsters

children are afraid of under their beds.

How, fireworks remind so many gunshots

Self-proclaimed nationalists cannot stay loyal enough,
to know what would be good for this land.

This land of the free,
no longer belongs to the home of the brave,
but the cowardly.

Family & children born unto what we deem unattached,
from the roots of this soil,
they are not welcomed for lady liberty's "borrowed" arms to embrace them.

When each artifact
was sculpted from an immigrant's hands,
but we've warranted their tribulations
are greater than stars on our flag.

If those stars stand for detainment,
tragedy, and fascism.
I do not proudly pledge such ideals,
embracing my heritage of greats-
who journeyed over on ships across seas.



They are the stars of America's history.

—V.H.
Nicholas Mar 13
Scattered across my bedroom floor,
glimmers of light staccato on wilted rose pedals

Memories of us, 
the faintest slapback of the person I was with you,
flicker with lethargic buoyancy 

Fondness for fondness sake,
denial as a delicacy

Your face, obscured in these floral polaroids
Impressions of who you were;
what you meant to me,
a struggle to behold
but recognizable in ripples across the faces of others

Remains of an entanglement that seemed to answer
why the universe was even formed to begin with

This omnipresent truth laying abed the other
jagged reality of our affair;
it was never you,
it was my self-possessing pursuit of wholeness
Musings on the idea that love can be a very selfish act and that, in it's absence, we sometimes look back on a former relationship, not because we still love or miss that person, but because we love/miss the way that person made us feel about ourselves.
Cress Rosario May 2014
I am a book
Unfinished book
I'm not done writing
I'm still dreaming

I am a book
You are the reader
God is my author
Friends and family are contributors


I am a book written with happiness
Words, thoughts, and flying dreams
Written with never-ending simile
Expressed metaphorically

I am a book, hidden story
Flip the pages and see a lady
Obscured, concealed, covered
Just waiting to be read.
ryn Aug 2014
Hold my hand
And lead me through
Traverse this land
Together we two.

Over unknown terrains
Under weeping skies
Through unforgiving plains
Through pain and lies.

Between grieving mountains
And screaming valleys
Feeding fevered delusions
Fraught with delays and tarries.

Beyond the hills and knolls
Hopeful of salvation
Surviving pits and falls
Not knowing the destination.

My hand still in yours
An arduous odyssey
Must stay the course
Must complete this journey.

Bright skies up ahead
Or so they promise
Soon shall pass they said
Soon will come release.

Still in this; still walking
Not soon expecting the end
Still in this; still trudging
Round this obscured treacherous bend.

Doubtful mad endeavour
I dragged you with me
When this finally is over
We'll look back and see.

Glad that we were together
Glad that together we came
Never cease from being near
Keep holding my hand, just the same.
ryn Feb 2015
His bicycle let out a little yelp as he slowed to a stop,
The lady was dressed the same as the night before.
He could have cycled on but he had intentions he would not drop,
For he had heard stories of such beings from old wives' lore.

It was important for him to address this spectre.
Motivated by the advice he had received from his dad.
To never succumb to fear if a spirit he should ever encounter,
For the fear would consume and eventually drive him mad.

He was brimming with confidence as he spoke,
"Hello there again, I see that you are still in a fix".
He was determined not to be made again the joke
He had sworn to not be taken in by the imp's mischief and tricks.

A sweet fragrance lingered in the air,
Teasingly inviting him to greedily inhale it all in.
A gentle gust blew, caught and played with the strands of her hair...
Enamoured by her visage, he secretly gasped as if the air grew thin.

Her face was still partially obscured by her black flowing hair.
She turned to him before she gave her reply,
"Would you please give me a lift, dear sir...kind and rare...
I do not wish to be stranded alone, unsheltered under the moonlit sky"
.
To be continued...

Based on a story I heard.
Shofi Ahmed Nov 2018
Peace be upon you
Peace be upon you.
The moment you were born
were summoned to the earth
far from heaven.
Far no more, no more
heaven became
closest to the souls!

Peace be upon you
Peace be upon you.
The moment did you dip
your toe in this mortal soil.
Mortal no more, no more
it becomes sublimely
the most beautiful of all!

Peace be upon you
Peace be upon you.
The moment you breathed life
your perfume stirred the water
the meaning of life is obscured
no more, no more
it’s all clear as the full moon!
Michael Hart, the author of the book "The 100 Most Influential People", it took him 28 years to complete it. He ranked Prophet Mohammad (PBUH) No 1 on the list.

While he was giving a lecture in London, he was booed and interrupted.
People were complaining as to why he ranked Prophet Muhammed (PBUH) as No 1?

He said:
"The Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) stood in the middle of Makkah in the year 611 and said to the people: 'I am the Prophet of Allah'.
Four people believed in him; his BEST FRIEND, his WIFE and two KIDS!
Now, even after 1400 years, the number of Muslims has gone over 1.5 billion and still expanding.
He could not have been a liar, because a lie will not last 1400 years! nor could you fool 1.5 billion people!
Another thing to ponder is that even after all this time, millions of Muslims will not hesitate to sacrifice their lives over one word that would hurt their Prophet".

"Is there even one Christian willing to do that for Jesus?"

After that, there was DEAD SILENCE in the whole auditorium!
Yassine Apr 2
The urge to write but my mind quit,
The longing for love but none caught my breath,
The need to believe but my soul is still immaculate,
The curiosity of the unknown but the nihility obscured my sight,
Persist an Outsider till an exotic make a hit.
Love for all, You are not alone.
My divulging outcries should
match the anguished weeks we've had. I've deceived all of
you with obscured replies, and now this distrustful person
I am is hard to understand. But you see, I can't decipher myself,
for I'm a traveler of my own heartbreak. A nomad without a map, searching for this knack to surviving. Deserted on scattered land, and each fighting "I'm okay" evolves me more lost. An unsolvable destination to which discovered, I may uncover a pumping, breathing new body and fresh spirit clean of a blemished memory. Deprived and striving; I'm holding on for that revival of flared hope, to where I cope with these thoughts in a better way. How long can you
thrive on nothing?
Will I last today?
----------------------
I hold everything in, and then I break. No one gets what I'm feeling, because it usually happens a long time beforehand.
JasFow Aug 2017
I wish I could explain to you how my heart changes
Daily\ by the minute
When I see you across the way,
my view obscured by a wall; which seems fitting
A wall seems to keep us apart [endlessly]
Your end or mine
Its easier, we agree
What is it that keeps me so far you ask?
ME
There is something surrounding my heart
Malleable and breathing
Alive and keeping me together somehow
I've let it open a few times
To let someone in, to let you in.
But every time, without fail, something changes
You got to my heart and it burned in the most beautiful light
Coming in, you made it good, and happiness was real
It was when you left that things got bad
I left myself open for too long and lost myself over time
Bits and pieces fell out slowly, scattering itself
Now my heart is incomplete, more so than usual
I'm not blaming you
I souly point the finger at myself
I shouldn't have opened up to begin with
You want me to be honest and transparent,
but since closing back up, my heart has turned dark and mucky
Unable to be seen through clearly
I try to be honest, but  the current truths get blindsided by the past lies
I don't mean to do all the damage I caused
To you or me
I wish this was a real apology, for I know it changes nothing
Me continuing to be closed off
I’m sorry.
Dumping what been drowning my thoughts
Steve Page Sep 2017
Her scars lay obscured,
shrouded by years of survival,
protected by safe distance,
masked by cosmetic smiles -
until you met her eyes
and there you shared
a fragment of her pain.
Wounded,
but after all,
the same wonderful woman.
Inspired by a painting by Paola Fratticci, Wounded Woman.
Chrissy Jan 4
you have in every way
obscured my vision
blocked my path
and diverted my attention
to you
ryn Aug 2014
Weepy is my heart as it mourns hard this day
Muddled is my head with thoughts all amuck
Muffled is my voice with the words I try to say
Stifled are my screams as they try but all seem stuck.

Tense are my shoulders with the load that I bear
Wet are my eyes seeing everything so blurry
Heavy is my chest as it sighs and draws its air
Tired is this body with so much it attempts to carry.

Weak is my strength, fending off oh so feebly
Uncertain are my hopes to see the light at the end
Outstretched are my arms reaching and grabbing constantly
Tested is my resolve, how much further can it bend.

Lonely is my soul yearning greatly for it's other pair
Drunken are my senses, almost losing all control
Desperate is my being wanting love that's not here but there
Clouded is my future, totally obscured is my goal.

Two-sided are the fallen words I have listed before
Strained is my mind as I try to view the good
Mirrored are these feelings, they bear so much more
Enlightened is my will, I shan't mope and brood.

Relieved is my heart when I think of the other that beats
Serene is my head when I separate fear from fear
Loud is my voice as it clears for the love it greets
Redundant are my screams for I don't need them here.

Relaxed are my shoulders, still fueled to continue
Wide are my eyes for the sight they can't always see
Lifted is my chest for the love it wants to pursue
Upright is this body, to get to where it wants to be.

Rejuvenated is my strength when I accept that I am strong
Restored are my hopes, I'd still keep them alive
Faithful are my arms, still reaching for what they long
Strengthened is my resolve with plans it'll contrive.

Contented is my soul for the mate it has found
Heightened are my senses, embraced by feelings so keen
Centred is my being, keep my bearings on the ground
Bright is my future, in my dreams they have been.

Empty are the words for I won't let them linger
Focused is my mind; on my prize no matter how far
Embraced are these feelings for they only make me stronger
Steeled is my will; to be one with my love, angel and star...
Hidden
in the echoes
of your footsteps, I walk,
obscured by your shifting shadow,
waiting.
Do you see me?
Eve Marinier Apr 2017
Love is a single daisy petal,
Left in autumn's windy days,
Let loose, never to settle,
And such a petal rarely lands,

Finally stilled, the petal wanes,
Promises are made, broken, renewed,
Passion fades, its memory remains,
Misplaced in time, remaining skewed,

Inconspicuously, time flows on,
Blowing away bygones, to
Reveal, still standing strong,
A proud flower long obscured from view,

So spring returns, the flower blooms,
New petals reaching out,
To the wind, their dooms,
Until another flower sprouts,
<3 :)
Tyler A Sullivan Feb 2018
TURN OF THE SEASON

For Friends and Family


Then be not coy, but use your time;
And while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.
                                          -Robert Herrick

Intoxicated nights of orange halogen lights-
Illuminating through misty blown water.
As the April breeze ruffles the newly sprung leaves upon the trees,
Men pour malted liquor inside clandestine cellars of tuxedo staff and obsequious waitresses

Echoes of an engine shuffles on down the alley,
Startled it hides in the cornered places.
Men enclosed in smoke talk of days of old-
And better times,
And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces.

Woman go about chatting of useless things and waste the night away.
Men sit about playing games of little meaning and waste the night away.
Both will head to familiar places at mornings first rays
And April effortlessly falls into May

And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces
Slowly trudging through the paces
Slowly they tighten their laces

And set out for another monotony dipped day

Planting their ears to the ground listening
And many things they'll hear and say
With many hindsight memories in their mind glistening
And their lovers will whisper are you listening
And they'll say "yes yes my dear have no fear I am here"

And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces
And they'll make many a plan and in cases
And step over cracks in fear of dark places


The clink of a glass carries on down the hall
The bartender while wiping the counter yells
"Last call"
And they'll retort "for what reason"
And he "none at all"
Then the bar goes the way of the shopping mall
And summer slips effortlessly into fall

What reasons can they make when the night is through
When it's time to wake what will they do

As the days retreat with their hairline
And each mirror more distortive than the last
They'll retreat further, further into their mind
And what will they find
With their sanity fleeting fast
A desperate thought floating in the breeze
A candle to thaw the freeze


Intoxicated nights of solemn solitude
Tucked in the back thoughts of a lonely suburb
Trying arduously to abandon actuality
But failing and jumping the curb

And many men before and after grasp the image of their obscured faces
"Sorry love they're not home I'm afraid"
"They've gone to the races"
Each two lovers in two different places

Rest assured rest assured they'll return
They'll unconsciously sell their freedom
Rest assured rest assured they'll return
At this moment they are Carpe Diem

Rest assured rest assured
They'll be plenty of time
To fumble with furniture
Plenty of time
To spend with her
Plenty of time to waste
Plenty of love to give
Now's to go slow not make haste
Now's to go slow and live


And they'll remember childhood
As a warm August kiss
And where their feet stood
And what they missed
And when the leaves
Upon the trees
Fall down down down
To rise to their knees
They'll remember who they are
And who they use to be


So, before you grow old
And wilt away
And the December cold
Melts the summer’s day
Enjoy what you have
For what you have is to enjoy
For what you haven't
Are merely foolish toys

This summer began as the last one did
And will end when Autumn bids
With the sun and stars above for you to see
Run around like children in the heat of lunacy
...


Though I've fasted and wept,
Wept and prayed
And stayed stoic long
Through passing day
And bards’ men song
I can never,
Never truly say
I have achieved arête

No, I'm not the son of Xanthippus
Who instigated the apogee of Athens
The past beacons of Atticus
Dims my own ember passions

Though I've loved and lost
Loved and lusted
Won a few
Others busted
Though I've seen the world at the needle point,
With all the sordid souls suffering
I've lived like Cummings
The farthest extent of emotions
I've kept a drug induced devotion
But never could I stop from wondering
Never could cease sundering

I've seen the valleys of my life
Where the flowers are disseminated like t.v. static
And the only sound a high tinnitus pitch
They've said go, Go I don't love you anymore
Not pretty enough to be a poem
Not intelligent enough to be of any use

Though I've smiled and agreed
Agreed and died
Through all this hell
I have tried
...



They're troubled tonight
Their restless gaze fails to penetrate the maw of a darkened window-

To have
To have not

To operate in the probity of normality
To practice trembling sobriety
To lose an arm for the ones you love
To have in heart the morning dove,

Assures that come evening tide
Through shroud and delusion
Secrets the world shall confide
And lift your illusion
...

The very next morning
Or so it would seem
Awoke the old men
Rendering a dream

Patiently focusing
For a clearer account
The words from the past
They seemed to mount
And as they pressed closer
Not to be deterred
It crested their mind
And then they heard

"Soured metal, rotted walls
Darkness hangs from hall to hall
Broken bonds burning ambitions
A feeling half held until fruition

Life a moment
A last choking breath
Happiness a second
Before eternal death

We exist only
In the time between
A hint of joy
Goes often unseen

Until again
The crest breaks
And life slips by
But leaves no wake

Such was the tale
Of the great eluder
A hidden knife
A dark intruder

A ****** thorn
Upon the rose
A heap of sand
At the toes

Left undone
The last request
Above the head
The water crest"

Intolerable mornings of required communion
Accompanied with formulated phrases
Men limp from church
Their mind wondering
Far from there
To their childhood breakfast table
Breathing the memory becomes stable
They hold on to it as long as they are able
Plates of porcelain
Decorate the wall
Floral patterns swirling to the center
Across the room mother enters
The image wavers and ripples like water disturbed by a pebble
"Honey set the table
Get the biscuits, gravy, ladle."
Set the trays down equal from the middle, a cup to the left, forks and knifes to the right-
Get those filthy boon dockers off my floor and out of sight
Go get your brother without causing a fight
BREAKFAST TIME
Rise and shine on the biscuit line
BREAKFAST TIME
The sun is up and shining
The coffee is on and the bacon frying"

The memory dissipated into a fleecy cloud.
It hangs heavy on their heads.
Remnants of yesterday remembered in indignation
When slipping off to bed.

I'm in the December of my days
And stuck fast in my stubborn ways
If only I could grasp youth for longer
If only my frail body were stronger

If only I were confronted again with every last myriad encounter where I chose reticence
Opposed to openness
My martial mind refuses any peacefulness
Perhaps the reason of my restlessness
...

Shaking off the foreboding dream
A distant luminary seemed to gleam
An old man frail but proud
He spoke a poetic oration aloud

"My head is swollen, my mind it wanders
My tongue is twisted stumbling it stutters
My thoughts are lost in the colliding clutter
My meaning is lost under soft mutters

My smile shields my solemnness
My eyes reveal my weariness
I am a man of little happiness
But refuse to possess helplessness

I am as I decree
An old man wrapped in misery
But not one broken to submission
Just one in a transition

I have tasted the bitters of love
Witnessed the horrors of death
I have choked my linen dove
To its final breath

No, I am not a careless senior
Full of content
Shriveled in demeanor
Mind absent

I'm dying not dead
No resolving to expiration
Living instead
No meeting expectation
No bowing my head

In credence I say
I'm living for today

No consideration for tomorrow
No more drowning in sorrow"

...


The day was overcast
Fitting the mood
Black suits stood in formation
While the lucky ones heaved their load.

"He was not an exceptional man

Not one of great worth
No wife, no kids, no friends.

To an outside eye it would seem as a waste
And maybe it was
But that's the nature of things to end abruptly
On a minor note"
Written by
Tyler A. Sullivan
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