"obsidian" poems
Block by block
I delve down
is it iron?
is it gold?
or only gravel and stone
toiling with pick and shovel
I dream obsidian spires
towering 190 blocks above the shore
I dream wheat fields
and cow pens
nestled amidst rolling hills
I dream discovery
mystery
exploration
but before these
there must be iron
Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 11:47 AM UTC
she loved thunder storms most of all
the crackle of white hot bolts ripping through the sky
the sheer immensity of power
she always thought it was him
her beloved God
big boy
Thor
with his flowing blond hair
blue aquatic eyes
washboard stomach
and delicately curved *****
finally a man good enough for her
even if he was fly by night
when the heavens thickened gray
like soggy cotton
she could feel atmospheres shift
it made her ******* pert
her mouth would salivate
like a lurid peach
her ***** swelled and dampened
tears of adoration and enchantment
filled her eyes
no longer able to contain her self
she would strip naked
fling off her *******
and run out to the lush verdant meadows
calling at the top of her lungs
yoooooooooo hooooooooooo
as the cool rain descended
she ran thrilled to the mud between her toes
seeing great claws of white lightening echo
through the sky
without hesitation
she fell to the cool earth beneath her
wallowing in the delicious sloshing ooze
positioning her self on all fours
head thrown back
*** up high
calling to the heavens
come on, come on big boy
ive been waiting for you
let me have it good
her clitoral lips
drooled with anticipation
her ******
a pulsating aching
the sky rumbled
with stretching streaks of fire
like a great freight train
spanning infinity
while the earth shook like a
hollow moon
she swayed her hips
rhythmically to and fro
whispering a love song
*oh sir
i need a man like you
wont you love me
adorations true
i kneel before
my sweet Lord Thor
where's that hammer
come on and score
you are so big
and im so little
how about it God
just a tickle
hit it now
give it to me good
kisses baby
like only you could*
tears of desire cascaded
down her pink cheeks
as she recited her love mantra
her mouth naked wet
suddenly
a great bolt of lightening
shot down from heavens throne
entering her ******
splitting her in flames
her head turned dark mahogany
sent careening fifty yards
leaving her mouth
a yawning twisted smudge
of fossilized obsidian
with eyes
blackened flaring hollows
her tender pink ****
a charred flower
smoldering
like a
petite
grilled
calamari
Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 9:45 AM UTC
Sometimes I wake up to
spatial tension
and awkward sting,
where there are fractions of
unwanted proteins and
dripping enzymes.
Sometimes I wake up to
obsidian corpuscles
of unknown origin
and encounters with
sentiment-shakers,
dream-eaters,
and rafter-rattlers.
Sometimes it is as simple as
dripping beige,
intangible amber,
and cold, cold, blue.
Sometimes I wake up
to nothing, too.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 10:46 PM UTC
etched under my skin
flame roses blister
scars on the palms
of my hands bleed
stigmata thorns
my eyes freeze to crystal
the tears around my neck are
fashioned in lace black obsidian
my lips - the color of amber
and fire - are vows
never broken
my moons are scarlet
my stars are cold
my sun is silver
and beaten GOLD
soulsurvivor
9/16/2014
~~~
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 9:37 AM UTC
*Kiss me asleep
with your obsidian lips.
Protect my ears
from the cacophony nights would bring.
Fill the void
between heartbeats that skip.
Take me into the lull,
and into the siren song that you sing.*
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 10:38 AM UTC
This world we live in is terribly cold
Stone hearts will chill your bones
**** your soul or so I have been told
By experiences of varried tones
If you could travel through
A mile or two in my shoes
You would lose your mind
And leave reality behind
Just like I did in a devilish bid
To try and find hope,
And a way to cope
With this life so morbid
Dealing with years of abuse
Each time I would reduce
And shelter my mind away
Blocking out the violent foray
The constant concussive ridicule
From parents with a wrathful rule
Their constant battery to my psyche
Has left me with barely any sanctity
Of mind, soul, and heart
All piles of rubble before I could start
So when I wander yonder, I cart
Around my dead childhood
Through this broken neighbourhood
While I wear an obsidian hood
So people don't see the real me
Enough said, it would fill you with dread
Because if only you could see
The face behind the mask,
You might finally know me
In a deeper sense, my task
The method to my madness
That I am acting under duress
I might impress upon your life
What it means to go through strife
You may have done worse deeds
But you didn't have to live your life on Speed.
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 3:31 PM UTC
*The Road to redemption
Is a daunting path
It’s an uphill battle
That is slippery and steep
It goes against the current
In the frigid rough rapids
With rays of blistering sun
A jagged wall of obsidian
And a sea of sand
There are no shortcuts
Only cuts, scrapes and bruises
What you did in the past will never be forgotten
But what you are remembered for will have changed.*
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC
i come to you half mad
with desire
like slithers tongue
i wish
to have painfully stitched
to your silky ****
an act of desires supplication
my *** turned to poison
deprivations effulgent
obsidian flower salivating
your every smile
fleshy bells ringing
warping tintinnabulations
i am a starved incubus
drooling at your knees
behind me
a frothy junket of misdeeds
for loves sake
your feet the scent of lavender and salt
their shape evoking numberless poems
and begging adorations
your belly
a tender cauldron undulating
tummy ***** dancer
sacred **********
temple of worship
the site of your rounded bottom
naked red mouth calling
my sacred liturgy
your *****
velvet tulips for a tremulous kiss
I seed you a thousand times
a raging bludgeon
storming wounded gates Palisades
drenched and florid
fruit and milk ****
until jaws lock
and spire drops
turning me
to midnight cadaver
***** black hollows
a dark eyelid, blink-less
dead **** face down
a slumped snake
then soft dew
and cool ales
clear thickened muds saturation
lighten heat and peel
the warm palate
with agile caress
tender haunches wide and spiced
milk and butter thighs
her hair in mine
rushing river life
again i animate
an embryo id
dressed in fire
all vices and virtues
blood and sky
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 1:23 PM UTC
Her eye's, Asian heaven's
Her hair, universal obsidian;
She camouflage's in the mountain's
An Asiatic goddess chameleon.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©earl Jane nagley dedication
Aug 21, 2015
Aug 21, 2015 at 5:14 PM UTC
You don't need the smoky colored quartz dangling in your hair,
Or the liquid rubies painted onto your soft lips,
Or the powdered gold dusted onto your eyelids to hide the look of pain.
You don't need the silver buttons strung up your shirt to make your aura seem pure,
Or the perfect pearls around your throat to tease and allure,
Or the obsidian skirt hugging your thighs to add the finishing touch.
You don't need the diamond blade to make you bleed imperial topaz onto your marble floor,
Or the laxatives made of howlites to cut your figure thin,
Or the breast implants made of danburites to make you seem attractive.
You are worth more than the emeralds that people compare your eyes to.
You are worth more than the sapphires that make up the water in your body.
And you are worth more than the taaffeites that compose the air you breath.
You are a perfect angel without the expensive things.
Just sing sweet lullabies of the truth and be yourself,
To ensure you live in a beautiful reality.
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 9:31 AM UTC
*I'd befriend the obsidian sky...
I'd shower it with a bounty of praises.
So that it'll welcome my nightly gaze,
without threats from overbearing clouds.
I'd impress the twinkling stars
by serenading them with songs unheard by most.
So that when the time comes,
they'd cast their votes in my favour.
I'd whisper to the nighttime breeze.
I'd cavort and giggle at its slightest touch.
So that when I fly my flag,
it'll catch it in full billows for her to see.
Then finally...
I'd woo the twilight moon...
For she is the prize
my heart had sought to pursue.
I'd court her
with the fiercest blaze that burns within...
In hopes that she'd forever
remember me as the suitor that had
fallen helplessly.*
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 11:03 AM UTC
Scorpio ♏️
~~~~~
Scorpio needs the healing of Aquamarine
Charolite, Turquoise, Malachite or Emerald
Obsidian Black , Golden Topaz and Boji Stone
Ruby, Lapis Lazuli,Green Tourmaline,Kunzite
Peridot , Rainbow Moonstone, Rhodochrosite.
I know of Variscite Hiddenite n Apache tears.
Or Herkimer Diamond ,Hiddenite , or Variscite
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip
December 22nd 2018.
Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 2:34 AM UTC
within the solitude of the dreadful span
of the blackened and bowed sky
the deep withered grass bends in the moonless dark
quieting the cold and murmuring earth
hushing her into fitful sleep
the air is hard
and the wind lacerates the night
razor incisions left behind
in the icy flesh of obsidian hours
open wounds howl like wolves
on the trail of prey in flight
I hunger for you
under the restless stars
Feb 4, 2025
Feb 4, 2025 at 11:29 PM UTC
Obsidian wind chimes
welcome the crashing waves
as another day exits, slowly
sinking beneath the bay.
Cool waters drenched in
an almost amethyst hue
offer mental reverberations
as I ponder what I am next to do.
Though the sea is but a tide
that ebbs & flows-
repletes & recedes-
her words of wisdom forgo
past the banks of her beaches
& spread a breeze to every corner
of night.
She beckons me within myself;
her deep abyss but a mirror.
Her waters shine in a glimmering splendor
as she makes the path ever clearer.
To leave this shore that raised me
is not a sign of disrespect, but a show
of honor. My broken levees have her
to thank & for that, I call her mother.
Sep 9, 2021
Sep 9, 2021 at 5:33 PM UTC
I love you
dow
w
n
to your jagged,
dark edges
culling smoke
and twisting tides
your steaming heart
that pulses, in my hands
as you give it-
and the pungent tears
when they fall
from your eyes
I lick up your pain
to soothe it smooth
its rawness catching
velvet ripples of skin
I pull a blanket
of mahogany wine
over your soul
lacerations
that seep out
from the layers within
and in that tender of
nightfall's darkest foliage
I long to calm
your monsters' clawing
as they gnaw at you from
the inside out
I crave to fill
the hollowed-out longing
my own hungers writhing
in obscene
devout
For I am all that is sacred and wild
the spark has been lit
from my innermost rooms
I dance to the drums of
the woman as child
her mystical ways chanting
rhythms in runes
Demons might dance
as you gaze in reflection
in the mirror of time,
of unfiltered space
but I adore all your sides,
your imperfections
discern the divine
in the planes of your face
You are my galaxy
of dark matter
bringing out my
own looking glass
of vantablack
in a feral crown of obsidian
and onyx
as you reach me deep,
there's no going back
For when you love me like that,
plant your tameless,
hot seed
it blossoms within me
a tightly-wrapped tourniquet
for when I bleed
and if my guts
should spill upon
the floor
you will remind me,
in glowing of pores
of who I am
and how I am whole
a lovelight lit in the
storm of my soul
I will push down deeper
until I feel those roots
that connect me to
my center
to my
succulent fruit
So slice me open.
Pull me apart.
Let the juice run down
to heal
your
jagged-edged
heart
Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 5:59 PM UTC
In pursuit of an elusive harmony
summer nights rolled away from us
reverberating into a numinous bass line
while reconciling our dreams
with a burgeoning truth
Flustered with desire
and walking in a non-ordinary reality. Lost within the Source
of all there is and ever was. We re-animated
navigating through portals unexplained
to retrieve this love
We plied our differences into commonality
and re-aligned our fractured selves using the agency
of synchronicity - having found
an immutable archetypal truth
and having found from where our self-portraits flow
Much more than soul mates, Plato
offers stories of Zeus splitting souls in half
as punishment for pride.
In this incarnation, have we found humility?
Will this be enough to carry us back to nobility?
It is challenging to find your way back
into a lover's arms. Mistakes haunt us eternally (if we allow for that)
but every morning if we awake
and let go, using the suns setting and rising as a reminder that
with experience, guidance, and repetition ... it gets easier
My half soul
awoke as my mortality decomposed
when half becomes one, then the real turmoil begins
from the shores of St. Mary, Raven calls
and I follow my destiny into an Obsidian Night
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 4:39 AM UTC
look me in the eye and tell me that you love me
or was it all a sad story that you unconsciously believed
while you raided the fridge and fornicated wildly
too late is not really an acceptable position
and later on is usually an example of indecision
and sometimes specimens reject their predicaments
especially if they are eventually going to be your dinner
i am sure that i am here to usher in a new authority
resurrected like a phoenix i must be stronger than before
so even if forever is often equivalent to never
and september is the month of seven (or was it nine) serpents
that are to be reborn in the dawn of Time's obsidian
as our minds have spent oblivion in the forges
of turgidly engorged shores, torn from their former continents
as forms are always gripped in hands who choose intolerance
take administrators, lawyers, bureaucrats and clerks;
as examples of this; par excellence
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 3:21 PM UTC
You must understand my fear
As I grow closer to you dear
No more bite or insurrection
You penetrate the armour
Hard covers but tender underbelly
Be gentle in your stroke
Blisters fester
Red welt of swollen lips
Let the blood fall as it may
Unafraid
You are the light in my everyday
Slither hither
& crawl over blistering heat
You seek, you sting
Sharp penetrating glance
Venom glistens like the dewdrop
Do drop & Let drop the droplets
Wet hard the mind ****
Chittering madness
Stinger in brain
Dark obsidian, your poison sings
Your back
Glistens shiny.
Your armour penetrating dance
Brings me back
Tail quivers
Knees weak
Crawl to me
The strike
The sting
Your poison venom
The venom inside me
No antidote or logic
No rhyme or reason
Your venom sings
sound gone
Mind blown
Eyes blind and heart bleeding
I am your zombie baby
Obey me
Tease me
Play with me
Seize me
Sting me
Again and again.
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 12:26 AM UTC
Sleepy demon, close your eyes
Hell's too warm for you to rest
Soon someday you'll realize
That I've always tried my best
In my arms
Quiet and cool
The lights are dim
The clouds are wool
Stars on the ceiling
Sparkling above us
Your horns are pitch
Obsidian and onyx
Tired from fighting
Lashes charred from flames
Looking up from dark circles
Sleepy one, have no shame
My lips on your forehead
As I watch your aura lift
I love you, little demon
I will let you drift
Oct 16, 2021
Oct 16, 2021 at 12:13 PM UTC
Her eyes shine like undisturbed dew drops
hovering at the gentle fingertips of young moss
on the northern bark of a white cedar tree
under a lazy morning sun.
Spear points of obsidian pierce the disc:
banished from the core of a volcano
scorched by a molten heart
and choking on onyx soot.
The dawn warmth filters through,
carried by a serene and wafting breeze.
It illuminates the pleasant, tickling greenery,
bringing to light the depth of her irises.
Fire belches from the mountain's stomach,
and the flame ignites a gleam.
Her gemstone eyes shine
as though the embers have been captured within.
At the base, there is the earth:
firm and dark and cool.
Interlocking underbrush layers fawn with chestnut
overtaken but not undermined by powerful streaking tree trunks.
The rim is built of force and rumbles with strength.
A cast of bronze is seething and glowing.
Her intensity blazes as sun spots
deep within ancient amber.
She is as her eyes are
an indigo inferno:
seldom
and
elegantly alive.
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 3:07 AM UTC
...
☔
"This is a big dream, it may eat you up."
I do not flinch in the face of chaos.
〰
(Forecasters)
I counted as seven gods
ascended the iodine skyline.
We all call them "misfortune in the flesh."
They waltz in pairs but the very last is a composer;
Seven deities promised the sun would catch scarlet fever.
We danced to the music to summon fate and disorder,
building a coffin in the middle of hungry waters,
The sun is our noble sacrifice in ruby robes;
So lets just hope the sea was starving for fire.
(Brew)
Metal ghosts slip among the sky
and lock like iron gates to form an army of grey.
The weight of sober clouds are intoxicated with turmoil,
Unbalanced weight, scales faltering, "no sudden moves please"
Obsidian giants collect the welkin until it boils over
the edges, the pillars, the cage
Why does the dark taste sweeter?
(Beautiful downfall)
The raindrops are ashamed
of the bitter liars we're all becoming;
We've succumbed to narcolepsy by the hand of water;
within the jaws of hurricanes we were consumed,
teeth formed by the angry fingers of the wind
thunder rejoicing as the land buckles down,
rain feasting on the earth in ecstasy
hail and rain are merciless foes
lightning still swinging,
morbidly screeching
chaotic smile,
a sword,
a single,
a cut.
Yes,
I am the one
(☔)
who fed the sky
my name.
...
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 3:30 PM UTC
The taste of bitter toxicity
The feel of obsidian
The sound of inhalation
The excitement of exhalation
Heart racing and it begins
Butterflies start to dance
Rushing flow of ecstasy
giddiness embracing
Flying higher and higher
Freedom and happiness
awareness with every touch
bliss
Heart compressing
Stampede of hysteria
Slow crawl into desolation
Loosing grip
Falling faster and faster
servitude and disorientation
Restlessness with every thought
desperation
The taste of bitter toxicity
The feel of obsidian
The sound of inhalation
The excitement of exhalation
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 12:08 AM UTC
I love when the sun paints a golden hue on everything before it
disappears
into the obsidian night.
Its rays are like an artist's brush,
delicately covering the world's canvas with luminosity.
When its glow eventually fades, and the stars barely light up the sky,
it's like an artist shutting off the studio lights
after a long day's work.
Temporarily departed, but soon to return
to paint the canvas with incandescent light
once again.
Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 4:46 PM UTC
Clusters of lights like lilies,
Or like boiling craters in obsidian
The black is inky,
It could swallow me whole,
I'm thankful to be strapped in
The horizon scrolls back as the plane lilts
Like an image in an old slide projector
Suddenly the moon is below me
Icarus should have winged by night
I’d be god if I weren’t strapped in
Clusters of light like lilies
In this lolling pond we skim
Light strung like dew on spider silk
A flattened web to stretch the land
thankful not to be attached
Shimmering grids draw nearer
Enveloped in their seductive shimmer
thankful not to crash
Oct 20, 2018
Oct 20, 2018 at 3:52 PM UTC