"omission" poems
***Crossing the room in slow motion
She watches his muscles move in the moonlight
Oh how they glisten in anticipation
Sit my pet, in a whisper
At her feet he waits with bated breath
So pleased at his obedience
Proceed
Such a simple command
He inches closer
His eagerness evident in his silence
In his omission of a proper response
An outfaced palm and he stops short
Sitting back on his feet, hands in lap, eyes to the floor
I'm sorry Ma'am, he says
That is evident by his failure to respond
He knows what is coming
Grabbing the back of his hair she forces his eyes to hers
Position, she says disgustedly
She leans back in the armchair as he pulls her hips to the edge
He lifts one leg and gently places it over the arm
Then he positions the other in the same manner
Sitting back on his feet, facing the floor
His arousal is evident, as is his moist anticipation
Respire.
The word is grunted through gritted teeth
He leans into heaven
Hovering an inch away
Slow deep breaths
He breathes in her essence wanting nothing more
Than to bridge the gap with his tongue
White satin and peekaboo lace
She runs down the rules of his punishment
Will you touch the Goddess
No Ma'am
Will you drool on the Goddess
No Ma'am
Will you move without permission
No Ma'am
How long will you hold your position
As long as my Goddess sees fit...Ma'am
Good boy
His breath is slow, deliberate, and heavy
The heat of it permeates the thin fabric
She runs her hand over the object of desire
Accentuating the outlines of what lies beneath
An accidental whimper
Silence!
A gruff command
Followed implicitly
In a slow and graceful motion
A hand slips under the fabric
Opening her flower releasing a hint of nectar
The scent grows exponentially upon the unfurling of petals
A glistening finger touches him just above his lip
Is that what you want?
It's a rhetorical question
Yes please
What will you do to get it
Such a simple question with but one answer
Anything you please, Goddess
Stick out your tongue
He does so in silence, careful that he does not touch her
She uses his wet flesh to wipe her finger clean
Closer she whispers
Now, within a half inch he breathes her in deeply
Mesmerized by the dewy goodness held behind the smooth satin
Watching desire grow in painfully slow motion
He blows out on the growing dampness
As he waits for her next command***
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 11:20 AM UTC
When you were a young child,
you wore your naive head in the clouds.
The vastness of space was your limit,
there were no social norms to worry about.
Growing up they told you,
you should pretend that you don't care,
so when your hopes would get devastated,
disappointment could give you a spare.
And now you find yourself wondering:
when did I stop following my ambition?
The thing you regret most when you die,
is your passion's creeping omission.
Besides, how can you ever win a game,
that out of fear you did not participate in?
Without your dreams you're a soulless ghost,
like a concaved snake's skin.
If only you're bold enough to walk your own path,
alienated and without an established map.
You will soon realize that your passion's just waiting,
for your courage to close the gap.
Feb 25, 2018
Feb 25, 2018 at 9:52 AM UTC
Not near-sighted; not far-sighted
Just blinded by stupidity
By rich inhumanity
Lack of love in society
Absence of insight; omission of outsight
Just censored curiosity
Loss of credibility
Condemned abnormality
Futures foresighted; actions unsighted
The past, no punctuality
Death by immortality
Buried from reality
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 7:33 PM UTC
Assert confidence in a convincing recital
Claim certainty that protection is binding
safety is paramount
a rehearsed amount
until she takes it on ethics
every truth is there to detect
A battle for reason
until potential yields to the objective
Loyalty isn't just imagination
Fate constructed in a noiseless dialogue
momentary eye contact
pencil hits paper
Smoke and vapor
Fire comes later
an unsurpassed honor
All the letters weve written
are a smear on the page of occasion
Resulting in endless treasure
Only to be rediscovered
When the omission is uncovered
May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 4:41 AM UTC
Slapdash into the ****** pan
Is thrown the longed-for son of man.
Between the gossiping cups of tea
God attains mortality.
In the cathedral calm and cold
Kneel the erroneous-memoried old.
But in the womb's cathedral calm
The walls collapse in a birth psalm.
The blood sings from the soiled hand
The apprentice cleans at the washstand.
Undismayed by omission,
For everything, everything is won.
The proof blazes in impudence
Above the miopics of science,
Swaggering in love inviolate,
Over the uninitiate.
And over all the angels dart
Like squadrons in a war apart.
Dropping parachutes of bliss
On everything that is.
3.7k
What is "the closet"?
It's not physical
No
Rather, it's a state of mind
But sometimes is feels physical
The pain of all the lies you tell
To keep your secret in the closet of your mind
To keep your secret from accidentally
"Coming out"
"The closet" is
Lying by omission
Keeping others away from the suspicion
That you're not like the rest
That you like the same ***
Or, if you're me, both
"The closet" shouldn't have to exist
This state of mind
Of constantly having to hide
Being constantly afraid
To just step out
And be yourself
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 8:53 PM UTC
Seagull on rotting planks, bouy bells ding to fog and driftwood.
A culling fire exploits the docking shire.
Filled with chlorine shards, legs caught in the clap-traps.
Friar palms glisten,
Rage responds with frisson.
Clear view over water.
Feel your arms relax and slip onto your back while the culling fire attacks.
Bulbous deadening brain chimes
As the eyes slide down to your omission crimes.
Leave me alone in my despondent company.
Don't push the matter further let communication fail to nurture.
A warm breeze carries me
like a floating portrait towards unreal scented meats.
I'm here now, alone in the corner,
The greatest intimacy with the static patterns on the carpeted flooring. The king of this corner is the odor of plank seating and flowery detergent in this lonely corridor fluorescent light-bulb poles and old grain floorboards.
Now the returning shards of panic to uncelibate strangers drive me up, far, deep in my own ribcage to something wholly non-organic.
Time to clock-in, time to check out.
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 1:25 AM UTC
Listening is relative.
Reading together is shallow.
Love is biased.
Reaching out is a myth.
Worship is noise.
Giving is a habit.
Church is a party.
Church is a half-way house.
Clapping is stepping on the cross.
Sitting is sin of omission.
Fellowship is exclusive.
The Cross is a decoration.
But God is still God.
Jesus
From Heaven or From Men?
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 7:52 AM UTC
Light and Darkness
Most of us assume
Are equal and opposites.
But In reality,
Light and darkness are opposites
but they are not equal.
Light is a physical entity
While darkness in the mere
Absence of light.
Likewise,
Love and hate are opposites
but they are not equal.
Love is real
While hate can only exist
in the absence of Love.
Likewise,
Truth and falsehood are opposites
But they are not equal.
Truth is a fact
While falsehood is
The omission of the truth.
Love and Truth are
the essence of the Divine.
Hatred and falsehood
are the absence of the Divine.
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 10:28 AM UTC
I now delight
In spite
Of the might
And the right
Of classic tradition,
In writing
And reciting
Straight ahead,
Without let or omission,
Just any little rhyme
In any little time
That runs in my head;
Because, I’ve said,
My rhymes no longer shall stand arrayed
Like Prussian soldiers on parade
That march,
Stiff as starch,
Foot to foot,
Boot to boot,
Blade to blade,
Button to button,
Cheeks and chops and chins like mutton.
No! No!
My rhymes must go
Turn ’ee, twist ’ee,
Twinkling, frosty,
Will-o’-the-wisp-like, misty;
Rhymes I will make
Like Keats and Blake
And Christina Rossetti,
With run and ripple and shake.
How pretty
To take
A merry little rhyme
In a jolly little time
And poke it,
And choke it,
Change it, arrange it,
Straight-lace it, deface it,
Pleat it with pleats,
Sheet it with sheets
Of empty conceits,
And chop and chew,
And hack and hew,
And weld it into a uniform stanza,
And evolve a neat,
Complacent, complete,
Academic extravaganza!
3.1k
Some lies are of omission
remaining deep inside
others pour down like rain
without a place to hide
Although they are quite different
their quest may be the same
to find a place of safety
to help silence their shame
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 6:05 PM UTC
I wrote several years ago, a scrap of paper with wondering thoughts--lost.
Delinquent, ovulating, ***** lovers, ***
devil, **** lies, logic, science
dalliance, omission, legality lost, sultry
does oppression look like sex--yes:
It was forced, it ran it's course
but it still runs, runs runs
silently, but in actuality, loud
quietly, but it prowls, hunting for calamity
a sad reality-- a tragedy
with wicked twists which linger
on my wrists, hips and thighs
charred with scars and lies,
I lied: with my thighs
when i let you in, it wasn't a sin
but a lesson I learned, as a girl
and education I didn't earn
--but I sure paid for
no cause for concern
but I find it discerning, sick
and disturbing--you seek dolls
so fine, glossed pretty pink lips
that shine, lips like mine
but there is no crime,
put a price on a doll
and say she's worth a dime.
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 12:49 PM UTC
If you're complicit
It's not illicit
To keep your mouth closed.
But, know you this,
When women are dissed
With words like ***** and **
You're surely committing
Sins of omission,
From your head
Down to your toes.
You left no doubt,
When you didn't speak out,
You're spineless
And missing marrow.
Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 1:30 PM UTC
'Twas no greater an omission
Than others glaring kept
And yet, more than they,
The fault was found in me.
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 8:11 PM UTC
Would you prefer it if I called myself Master God?
Would it please everyone if I called myself beautiful? Or would it come off as fake?
Whatever, nevermind.
I am zero. I do not count. I am an omission. Neglected. Ignored. Alone.
I have developed many a personality. I have become everyone and everything and I am nearing ripe. I call myself a piece of ****
Why? Because no one else would… I call myself a scumbag, a loser, a failure, a disgrace.
Because no one would want that burden.
I call myself Jesus.
What confidence? Keep wondering. Deliberation hmm…
I call myself a piece of **** because why not?
If everyone called themselves a piece of **** we would all be the **** of the earth.
We would all be disgraces. The playing field will finally start at the bottom line.
We would be **** in unison.
We would **** embarrassment.
We would **** it.
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 1:47 PM UTC
A few strokes of bad luck
What else could it possibly be?
A ****** up coincidence?
Or lack of empathy
Fingernails grow like ice crystals
Lying by omission
Aiding and abetting
Vandalize all that's beautiful
In this world that's not worth living
Love letter in calligraphy
Doodle in the margins
Images
Of something that's just not me
We're just friends
Lies and and false emotions
Follow you like smoke follows beauty
I wanna hate you
It's not easy
We're just friends
It's not easy
To hate someone you love
I wanna hate you
Like I can hate myself
Jan 21, 2011
Jan 21, 2011 at 6:32 PM UTC
There was a mother of goat
She had three kinder
She ordered them in hardness matter
"Don't ever and ever open the door under
Any raison
Even one says she is your mother
Wants to tell or has an order"
They all agreed and she went for work
There was a stranger
Passed by the neighbor
He was the greed bear
He said to himself in whisper
As he heard the kinder playing at higher
Voice reflecting their cheer
,"these must be fat
I will eat and lost my hunger"
He watched the home three days with great hear
He heard the mother telling that order
After the mother went, he went there
He knocked the door
When one answered in clear
He said, "I am your mother
Open the door to have a fare"
The first believe that
The first forgot the order
He opened the door at fast
The bear was so hunger
He took him out and ate at faster
When the mother returned
She found them had decreased
When she was learnt
She cried a lot
On the following day, she ordered
When she went, the greed bear came at fast
The door was knocked
He said, "I am your mother
Open the door to have a fare"
The second believe that
The second forgot the order
He opened the door at fast
The bear was so hunger
He took him out and ate at faster
When the mother returned
She found them had decreased
When she asked
She cried a lot
On the following day, she ordered
When she went the greed bear came at fast
The door was knocked
He said, "I am your mother
Open the door to have a fare"
The third did not believe that
He ordered him to stretch his hand
The bear forget the difference between his hand
And the shape of the goat's hand
The small goat said,"
Wait to get your hand kissed"
He got a rope that was a strong
And tided his with the stable rod
The small kid called all neighbor
While the bear screamed, mercy asked
His mother was attended
The bear was so hurt
The mother stroke his trunk
The swollen kinder were out
They were so sorry
They apologized to their omission
They said," we learnt a lesson
We will not forget forever"
Obey your mother
Obey your father
They knew more, more
They have more experience
And know which intelligence is
And which is carrying the worse
Apr 24, 2019
Apr 24, 2019 at 6:52 AM UTC
Three stars and a sun, in one sky, so high,
I live and die and die will I for my
Motherland this is the land of my birth,
No purse is worth the price of this earth
Can we rise, can we all, hell no!,
Or should we all just take the fall?
Bless the man if his heart and his land are one
...3 stars & a sun!
3 stars & a sun! I'm ready to defend the 3 stars & a sun!
Omission to a mission, transport for the brain,
Packed w/ stacks of tracks built for a train,
I eat lead, but I never let it be said,
"He said, she said," it makes me see red
''cause I don't take ******** & I'm 'a pack it and push it,
And hit you w/ the full clip
Switch to mode lock-'n'-load in the land of Juan
...the 3 stars & a sun!
3 stars & a sun! I'm ready to defend the 3 stars & a sun!
"Bahay kubo kahit munti, may pula,
Bughaw, dilaw, atsaka puti"
There is a need to sow the seed,
Toil the soil and plod until your hands bleed
''cause this land is sacred,
Many a battle have been fought with hatred
Don't tell me that you understand,
It's been 4 hundred years of tears
For the brown man,
Still and all the fight has just begun
...3 stars & a sun!
3 stars & a sun! I'm ready to defend the 3 stars & a sun!
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 2:41 AM UTC
In the days when dry ******* was as far as it went
I just fancied you more.
Strange I should think of this, after the one positive stick
in an ammonia scented carrier bag of negatives, or not.
Like a car salesman in a too often dry cleaned suit,
I enticed you with lurid banners offering years of hetro milage.
"££££££££££££££s of savings, no contraception needed,
this one wants a bun in it's **** loving oven",
and as I ***** down my eyes at the sound of rustling sheets,
signifying an imagined eroticism,
a rub down with an ******** my friends would squeal for,
I'm wishing you were a chick with a strap on.
Dec 14, 2010
Dec 14, 2010 at 11:43 PM UTC
It has never been my intension
nor was it ever a bone of contention
to alter or disrupt the social convention
but now is the time to pay close attention
to the decline of the human condition
Responsibility rescinded creating moral decomposition
accountability abandoned causing legal repercussion
right and wrong are muddled in a malicious juxtaposition
public opposition has festered into social imperfection
the omission of tradition by politician’s redefinition
HEED THIS ADMONITION OR ARDENT APPREHENSION
SAGACIOUS SUSPICION AND PERSISTANT PREVENTION
Of the decommission of the Physician, Pediatrician
the Technician, and the Mathematician
and give this acquisition to those with no ambition
even those under suspicion of sedition
or held in detention without fear of restitution
This is the deception of the devolution
of the middle classification
and the total destruction
of American personification
praise the Lord and pass the ammunition
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 11:42 AM UTC
Could you turn my pain
into love again
Could you touch my skin
like a drop of rain
Please, don't treat me
like an unknown person
Please, let me be happy
in your prison
Could you hear me, please?
Would you answer me, please
Do you still enjoy the sunset
as we did before
Do you remember me there yet
or not anymore
No, I can't deal
with my emotion
No, I won't stop my eyes
to be an ocean
Would you relive my memories
Could you fix my broken heart, please
Do you miss me
as I miss you in the moonlight
Do you cry for me
as I do for you every night
I can't live
with this pain of separation
Day after day
I'm falling into the omission
Could you feel me, please?
Will you come back to me, please?
Sep 12, 2021
Sep 12, 2021 at 1:49 PM UTC
*enlighten — verb (used with object)
to give intellectual or spiritual light to;
to instruct; impart knowledge to; Archaic: to shed light upon.*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
like an overdue library book,
the omission of a
failed commission,
makes me a bad boy.
request submitted.
progress stalled,
dust accumulated.
guilty of failure to perform,
a fineable offense
where I come from.
perhaps it was the word?
Enlightened...
down too many paths possible
this word obvious, but not,
a distortion, to me.
the definition I seek,
is not in dictionary listed!
for I want to enlighten you,
make you lighter, carefree,
But Not Through Spirit or Intellect.
for what spiritual guidance
can I give thee,
that would not burden you,
with collected do's and don'ts.
my intellect impoverished,
reduce to grunts and curses,
my opinions, even if valid,
are simplistic truisms.
nonetheless, I want to enlighten you.
"put the load right on me."
**"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me."**
Give me those-parts of you,
convoluted, twisted, that need bearing,
but cannot be borne any more,
for there comes the line,
where the totals are recorded,
the sums noted,
black or red,
matters not,
disposal ready,
my truck is marked
Heavy Load.
make me fat with seven years of plenty,
plenty worries, plenty troubles,
shed those pounds of weighty words
that gain no recognition,
misheard, misunderstood,
or just ignored,
so I can enlighten you.
what skill you posses,
doing this noble thing?
skill is simple,
merely human,
only the human touch
can enlighten,
take out the trash.
I am your man.
what makes you
heavy hearted,
enlightens me,
and makes you
lighter than air,
thus, miraculously,
we are both enlightened.
*send what you need to be rid of,
promise, I will read and keep,
every poem you send.*
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 11:47 PM UTC
I wanted to be right. An accusation I didn't want to own. Denying I could be wrong as the cigarette was burning slow. You asked and I refute. An unknowing dance with misguided steps. A tango of denial, with the thorn from a rose buried within my sides. I never lied... more of twist of an evasion. An omission of truth, disappearing with the grey ribbons of smoke. You asked the question; did I not answer to the best of my knowledge? Of course, I speak more in a statement than with a query... I never lied, only gave you partial false-truths. An innuendo laced with a common courtesy. Was it such a crime? A honest seduction with the intent of never telling the whole story.
I wanted to be right, with an accusation I would never own. "that I would love you" but how could that be true?
I can see now my excuses are fading faster then your red tipped ember. So I'll just go now, goodbye my half told story. Fair thee well...The time we spent is in the past, and I am now, left with that hole in my head.
I wanted to be right but fibbers never get to be the winners.
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 4:05 PM UTC
Enigmatic wanderings
Amid a field of plenty
Just can't explain the voiding
In the middle of the crowd.
Vaccuous emmissions
from a phrase of promiscuity
defy a wealth of knowledge,
harboured inwardly, out loud.
Enigmatic wanderings
Amid this field of plenty
Expressing dissillusionment
In uttterance unsaid,
Profoundly disconcerting
With banality's omission
In the way it lets suspension hang,
Precariously, till dead.
Marshalg
22 March 2014
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 7:33 PM UTC
Endless whispers make way, layered beneath star-lit skies,
The sounds formed in blissful flirtations, as tiny secrets composed of love…
Like the apex of an overture, encompassed by a standing applause –
An ode to the dedication of a honed craft, melded in artistic perfection,
We are but fireflies dancing in the darkened fields of life…
Illuminating sparks of matter, stretching our wings t’wards the heavens,
Each flutter of our ascension striking a beautiful chord,
A precise note of enchanted color, displayed ‘cross grass covered earth –
It is in this place we understand our magnificence,
Molded by those colors and sounds of feelings…
It is in those moments we found our immortality,
Created by the hearts of hopeless romantics and starving artists –
Defined by the words found beyond omission…
As if casted in series, structured in sentences of diaries and journals,
We are now infinite, our sculpted myth and legend etched in timelessness,
Our love forever told of its immaculate beauty –
We are…
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 11:09 PM UTC