A strange weather pattern
Appears up in the sky,
And a strange sludge splatters
Into onlooking eyes.

Menstrual matter falls
From the great godless clouds,
The people struck with awe
As they run, scream alloud.

A trickle turned downpour
Of radiated blood,
Now drowning in a storm
That yields a *** flood.

Dropping violently in pints, gallons, and leagues
We become fossils under a ******* sea.

I love the stars for a reason I don't know
All I wanna know hides like a pebble on a dirt road
Please reveal this secret only God knows
Come even if I don't know

I just want to let go
Cause I love you so
I want to let you know
I believe in the other worlds planets

I just wanna be your friend
Come to Earth awesome
Come to Earth on a mission of peace
I would be overwhelmed with glee if you would please

Our world falls flat even when it's round
Because earthlings r not to mess around
Fighting one another shouts loud
But I just want to meet the aliens

Starry twinkling of lights and stars down the road for ours
Dreams like for to the worlds
Crazy dreams the planets of ours

I don't think we r ready as of yet
To the stars where there at
Moons ago did they come
Only left questions for our of world

It's been hundreds of years for you and me
To make contact with a species you've watched since infancy
Talking is far off the charts it seems
But the dream will last for what seems an eternity

You may share my poems

old hunger makes us sick
forget who we are and
where we're going

how to see thru fog
how to pierce the sky
where's the truth in all this
mustard gas and lies

translucent silken shadows of people
wishy washy wistful thinking like
'o look at big sophisticated words dribbling across page - verbal *****
great philosopher all expression and
thought purge speaking in a vacuum'
petulant little lines for liar's lurid heart
petty little fines growing large from the start

what is this point you speak of and how do we get there
if it is really about the journey and not the destination
then can i get off right now

or

can i be seal eye headlight hi beams
is there trust enough left between us two
to go on down this road together
or part ways at lightning fork in path

no

i go into petrified forest bog
to hide and melt and decompose
bucolic rot under stalwart stoic onlooking trees

you go to riches, glory, ******* and now sprouting planted seeds
misgivings all forgotten like
irreverent, irrelevant childish deeds

and

i grow bitter and ferment
starving gut absinthe
filled with frozen wormwood lies
like Poe and de Quincy and all the rest

Ten tall trees
Surrounding the stony path.
Nine familiar faces
Onlooking the happenings.
Eight rough rocks
Lining the rugged road.
Seven small points of nature's creation,
Frogs and dogs and birds and logs.
Six strong scents
That nature breathes.
Five fingers
Fumbling to find safety.
Four stable wheels
Lying under the board.
Three friendly hands for confident comfort
Deceitful yet calm.
Two arms for balance
A lonely truth of real care.
One blue bruise
From the lies of onlookers and the deceit of a skateboard.

Is like a carousel,
and there's a pleasant sensation,
and it makes your head spin.
So many gaudy animals to choose from.
You get used to the dizziness.

The music is loud,
and there's an onlooking crowd.
It's so much fun
to go round and round.

Stay on too long and you forget how it feels
to be on stable ground.

These zebras and giraffes.
These benches and poles.
They do nothing for me anymore.
They've turned into hurdles.

You can't get anywhere
when you're just going in circles.

Marvel at the mystics
with bent backs
hawking wares in the courtyard
word of gods on fire
in the electric
Razorback armies of onlooking lepers
leap forth at the call of the mystics
calming martyrdom
Marvel at the mystics
who cash checks and built steps
up to the attic of mental harmony
Marvel
as they make money hand over
fist off of your faith.

I could listen to this shiny song
as many times as I wanted
here, at 4am, 
imagining you were here listening in some
onlooking crowd of fanatical people
thinking out loud what I'm singing
hearing what I mean through the lyrics and
believing.
make you make me believe it.

But it wouldn't matter.
you don't know me 
and
I'll just go
to bed now.

the end doesn't deserve gold
it's bleak enigma follows me silently
this circle is laced with old faces and bitter intentions
the smiling naive collision comes around again
rolling back to when it started
climbing dusty walls setting off words
tossing stones into stones
we wade through the morning
a dim sun and onlooking eyes
we exhale with no hesitation
and im found

How high was a nose meant to go?
Was it meant to reach Mars?
Was it meant to be a ladder to both near and far,
To the way far beyond and the far beyond stars?

How high was a nose meant to go?
Was it meant to be raised up to the sun on a pole?
Was it meant to sniff clouds and those lovely bows,
And breathe comet dust in a breathable boast?

How high was a nose meant to go?
Was it meant as an ornament for onlooking eyes,
Combing and surveying air instead of people passing by,
So the friendliest friends can breathe lovelorn sighs?

Those friendliest friends are the first despised.

How high was a nose meant to go?
The one pointed down will be the one pointed out,
The one smelling the floor will be rejected and fought,
The nose pointed down, broken with blood on the ground.

How high was a nose meant to go?

I feel so inclined towards you yet I feel so distant.
Whenever I believe I am attaining closeness, I'm shown exactly how far back I truly am.
I see myself as a participant in this race
In reality I am simply a spectator, onlooking,
as each person passes me by.
I yearn for those spells of closeness I am exposed to
Those veils that are lifted, sometimes for a mere second, others longer,
before I am cut off and the doors sealed.
I must not let myself slip or fall any further
For in those moments the screens rise, no longer do I wander blindly.
The wounds begin to heal
I'm lost in the ecstasy, hypnotized by the beauty
The light reflects off me and all that is around me
The moment it goes blank I feel empty and lost
I am confined in the darkness, my entirety submerged in the blackness
The journey I planned, comes to an abrupt stop
Many paths lay ahead of me, decorated with the allures of the world.
I refuse to let the ugly beauty trap me
I find myself to be at war once again
My thoughts, confused and chaotic. Which path do I take?
Every move I make must be strategically planned in order to win this battle
And I shall continue participating in this battle, positioned on the front line
Alone
With steal for amour and my mind erasing all that is trivial, insignificant.

I have hope this bitter struggle will be worth it, that there is a reward
This goal cannot be achieved of my own accord
I pray, with your guidance, your mercy and your blessings, you will forbid me from straying
You will conduct and influence the steps I take towards you.


© maria.who

Waxing and waning
Faxing and feigning
        Flexing and texting
Tweeting is fleeting
        Facebooking onlooking
Hello Poetry Goodbye monotony!

"When you have given everything
(As it appears to the onlooking eye)
And in return you get sweet nothings whispered under the cover of night
When these are the happenings, even when you keep yourself guarded
When you had thought that protecting yourself was that easy
When the wall you put up fell without putting up the slightest fight
You realize there was no wall, there was only a shifty guard that crumbled at the slightest possibility of-
Love

The apricot tree,
So solemn in its art of creation,
Yielding fruit by square yard,
And flower blossom come spring
Holding no pleasure in its perception.

If I am the apricot tree in the fields at dawn,
You are the ladder,
The picker,
The cook,
The sugar and pan
And the jar of apricot jam,

Preserved in its perfection
For hungry mouth and seeking hands
To endulge in, come harvest.
You are the countertop in the kitchen
And the residue of spills upon it,
Caused so carefree by fingers excited
To savor God's gift
Of orange fruit
And good will.

You are the warm home
Occupied by voices and laughter
And children so eager for the day
Their screams of joy echo each room.

You are the eyes onlooking
From inside the car,
Gazing out a moving window
At the bountiful apricot blossoms,
You are the artist and beholder,
The eyes of beauty
Which turn the tree's mundane
And ordinary life
Into poetry and light of human love.
The botanist, the lover of fruit and flesh,
Picking perfect apricots,
Plucking them not only at pure ripe
But all season,
For the sake of texture and sweet.

For the tree,
Bearing fruit and blossom
Has transcended from routine
To holiday.

Such a pleasure,
Being plucked and picked,
Pleased and appreciated in true apricot
Passion.

The tree loves the lover,
And the lover loves the tree.

Some people make me angry
However much they look outwards, they only see themselves
They only see their own face, reflected on the shimmering scales of the fish jumping in the lake by which they sit
The people like watching the fish
But fish and people can't be friends
because people can't see what a fish is thinking, even though the fish are always watching with lidless eyes
The fish; quiet, modest, good swimmers
The reflection of the onlooking person on their scales glimmers
Like a mirror
Some people only see themselves

what shimmering dust collects in your eyes?
and what is it, you do, to cease my silent outcries?
painfully majestic, the way that you glide,
when I view you, so serene unknowing,
I regress to past lives, to search for you inside.

you shake the earth, or my knees, with
the whirlwinds from your words, it seems
and I am but onlooking here,
you are hope, I'll stand here a bit longer
transfixed.

I still do not know why you left the way you did. So quick, it was like I turned around for a second and you took it as your opportunity. But you couldn't see that when you left, you kicked up dirt from running away so fast. It got caught in my eye, and now I can't see the same.

I remember one night, we were up until 4:00 in the morning finishing my mothers jigsaw puzzle. It was set up on the dining room table where I sat, and you were standing on the very same chair I was sitting on. Hovering over me, you said it gave you a better view, I just thought it was going to **** your back being bent over the way you were tomorrow morning.  
We were silent, the only sound heard was the sound of your breathing and mine, occasionally matching in sync. You would stretch your arm above me to reach for a piece, and the other would rest itself on my head, gently scratching at my scalp, how soothing.
To any onlooking eyes, it would seem rather strange. The position we were in was in no way normal, but that's how most of our situations ended up being, far from it.
When we finally finished, after hours of contemplation on whether or not we should complete the task, and small remarks with giggles as responses, you stepped down from the chair and grabbed a glass of water as a token of victory, I still remember the way you smiled when you looked at the finished product.
We slept that night apart, but together. You were on one end of the sectional and I was on the other, because we were both too afraid of what the other might say. But right as I started to descend into sleep, you made your way to my end, laid behind me and whispered into my ear that I was great. It was bound to happen, we were like two magnets, always finding our way to each other.

But now it seems like we are the opposite ends, the magnets now fighting against each other, refusing to meet.
So I'm sitting here, a whole year later, finishing another puzzle that I didn't start, but this time I'm all alone. I can't seem to figure out how a picture distorted into 500 different pieces could make me so sad, but somehow it managed. This time you aren't here too encourage me to keep going even though it's 2 in the morning and I'm half asleep. Tonight I am not sleeping on my couch with you by my side and I do not have a stupid smile across my face. In fact, I can't remember the last time I did.

You ripped away from me, there were no more spontaneous texts letting me know you were stopping by, no more staying over late, and saying goodbye when the sun came up.
We were everything. We were Sunday brunches, we were midnight ice cream splurges, we were the song you blasted in your car driving down an empty road.

And now?
We are nothing .

We were going for a walk, sea view, ocean blue.
But the tree needed cutting, can't have work on the mind.
Need to make sure that troubles left behind.
Should've done it months ago.
Ladder up.
Wires plugged.
Cutters out.
In the name of a neat garden for gorgeous nights when the sun is still bright.
Picking leaves, off The ground we dusted Wednesday dawn.
Yanking up crops crawling with harvestmen.
But wait, the holly bush needs doing too.
Should've done that days ago.
Dad does that.
As we sweep on.
Waving at friends.
Walking the wasps in the way.
They might sting.
"Don't bend, it hurts your back".
Mum says.
Advice never works.
The leaves go on.
More holly teams down.
Oh well, the journey of a thousand miles starts with one step...
Then another...
Then another...
Then another...
****, ****, bang, bang.
The chainsaw wires cut.
We had those for years.
So I keep my mouth shut.
Destroyed in a millisecond.


Our cat sat as calm as Confucius
From the sidelines, onlooking our endeavours.
A kitten kicking a katydid like a kid.
Confused, but definitely not concerned.

But wait, the wild flowers need watering.

Black skies arch
studded with stars
glistening   bright
piercing at Night.

Back lies cloudless avalanche
of like muddied waters.
Gloomy sight ,cursing the North.

'Sack' cushions far back.
waiting as like a dark night,
fighting hard to en-sack the light.

I'll wait,await the Christ
at all times he stars.
Starring,getting his hands out
should I   might take.
so, arising he's my lift.

Racks witty stars,
like ladders in  Farsi.
Illuminating white-
fighting the blithe.

Don't wait a sec. My neck 'll break
onlooking the wreck
as burgeoning dark, overshadow the light .

Be not fake,
make be light .          
Get not a break or brake
at doing right.

Though the  black skies might bow
relenting should I might
but instead ,I glisten bright.

Calvary arrows piercing  at Night-
Christ the father of lights.

She danced; Anubis, Kingdoms, Jah, an unaffiliated ascension to Heaven
      by all sources a specter to religion
The closest spirits fairy-like glossed with bells of toes and satiny outerwear


Indirect draining cloisters of luck were at the behest
    of the overseeing radiant observers who fought
          to classify the rhythm, the aerobic funk


Not without wisdom, her gyrating moves deadened the confessions
      waiting to assail the moves as haughty or beyond function


Tails ecclesiastic spinning her moves... fervid undeniably drastic
Cold eyes severed by furtive thoughts but cautious and wishing nought


Simplify the vision from onlooking wonderment; best aerobic function,
     the nuances, certain vision, the lady so much of a ****


Whence I am allowed and privileged to dawdle on towards her light
The fantasy of new tomorrows is a faith of future with grandeur

Now vanquish that which falls short and abounding is fortune and might

who are you
what on earth are you doing
doesn't he love me?
am i that desperate for love?
do i need it?

maybe i am too hollow for this
it will hurt to leave him
it will hurt very much
but I need to salvage my self-respect
he did not take it away from me
but i am letting it

why
why am i doing this to myself
why am i doing this
you are just
trusting everything he is saying
but how much do you know is the truth
you are
letting your guard down
lower and lower each time and now
have only so much left you
have concealed
what if once he has seen it all
he leaves you open, scarred
vulnerable.
he loses nothing

you are bare, hurt and betrayed
once again
can you really bear the pain
i dont like to be put down
yet he is so real with me
is that not good
to gain feedback criticism and learning
at the expense of what
i am falling in love and hence
i am afraid
afraid i will be blinded
******* and bound in shackles
enslaved to this man whom
all i can say is
he is kind
and he is a good man.

is that enough?
what if i lose myself
i can not afford to do that
never again
but will i, with this man
it seems so likely
is it on me

i must be strong
i must be strong
i must be strong
what i want
is just as valid as what
anyone wants and more importantly
what he wants but his is all i care about

what i know and see
is just as valid as what he can see
my perspectives may not be as
experienced as his
but they are experienced differently
and experienced nonetheless

if i need remind myself these thing already
am i already being dominated
subconsciously
if he has already hinted at parting ways
how can i stick around to see if
he will break my heart
i feel out of control
it is new
i am afraid

afraid enough to leave?
one that does indeed keep me happy
maybe i am simply being silly
all can be talked about
but there is this voice inside me
screaming

reminding me to always
remind myself to be careful
so very careful

yet all i want to do
is likened to standing at the edge of a
cliff beside a waterfall onlooking a
crystal clear lagoon
take a deep breath which will be the only certainty i have, the air in my lungs
and jump.

I want to walk with you,
Walk with you on the busy streets of London.
We'd walk hand in hand,
All the way from Trafalgar square,
To the deep end of Oxford circus.
And once in a while we'd waltz to the catchy tune of any street performer stringing out Beethoven or Vivaldi from their scrawny violin.
And we'd not mind the many eyes of onlookers; Onlooking the grand performance of a perfect duo, waltzing to the catchy tune of a street performer.