"onward" poems
Nothing can compare to the feeling of
caressing just blossomed sunflowers.
They reflect their warm gaze upon my cold,
freckled cheeks while their golden hue
searches onward for other souls to bless.
Nothing can compare. Except for you.
They remind me of you and your warm gaze
that always seems to settle upon my eyes.
They remind me of your hands and how they
feel when they’re pressed against my face.
And how our faces press against each other’s while
our lips are safely locked together.
No feeling can compare to freshly blossomed sunflowers.
Except for the feeling I get when I’m with you.
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 11:57 PM UTC
Gliding deftly along the city street
rolling quick and constantly
onward to some unknown scene,
some backward park in the nighttime
smoke curling from these
parted lips, moist and inviting
calling me somewhere I've never seen.
New day, new night
new feelings, rage in delight
fill me with your hilarious entropy,
knock my quarks into the next century,
will you please?
Now you're smoking the pipe and all at once you are free
between you and me, this smoke is thicker and sticks
like glue,
wispy and dreamy and the world spins and calls Toltec
telephone company can't pay me for all those calls collected
and rendered obsolete
Sun god dead as that silly calendar meme
Amaterasu,
and Imma tell you
these ladies in the picnic table
buried alive for boxed lunch and god's brunch
Jesus ******* Christ
and a indelible roster of good guys,
to which we all must strive to live and die
behind,
never moving forward
chasing our tails like a sick dog
under the jasmine runner between the decades-old tanbark
imported from overseas
dead trees
dead canine
and oh isn't it just divine?
You see it, pretty lady.
I can see it hiding behind your eyes
the things you don't tell the others because you're afraid
if they found out,
you'd be crucified.
Well honey I hate to inform,
With KGB efficiency that these love-a-dumbs
aint Methuselah,
they'll be dead!
long before your flood of tears tears me from the land
ballistas me across the great expanse to some strange Ararat
of the eastern seaboard,
or maybe wash me deep along the 80
into the desert sands and tiles
on a leaky cell phone screen
desperately trying to dial home on low battery,
realizing all this was one big deferred dream,
baking in the sun and shriveling
oh well, back to the grindstone-- all those lies plucked your nose,
gotta cut it back to size,
'else your soul it'll outgrow
Don't worry honey bee
It hasn't happened to me,
and We know with calcuable mathematical truth
that it'll never happen to you.
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 9:50 PM UTC
The river winds in from distant lands
With mercyless power it turns stone to sand
Through its mysterious life, the very earth it commands
And Yet the fearful river still runs through our hands.
In torrents of furry where the deepest currents flow
The rivers wild waters surge with woe. For
Onward, forever, its destined to go
A permenant home it won't ever know.
The river runs from each of us
As a refugee of fear,
It knows in a blink it will be somewhere else
Its waves are really its tears.
It runs from the audacity
Of the selfish human mind
As Its massive life capacity,
Of flora and fauna combined,
Are threatened by our antics and helpless to our crime
So the river runs on their behalf, from everyone, in time-
even within its whitecap foam
Water's yearning for a home
So roam does the water- endlessly,
till its long gone out of sight
The essential droplets of the river-
Nomads day and night.
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 11:55 AM UTC
It was golden and splendid,
That City of light;
A vision suspended
In deeps of the night;
A region of wonder and glory, whose temples were marble and white.
I remember the season
It dawn'd on my gaze;
The mad time of unreason,
The brain-numbing days
When Winter, white-sheeted and ghastly, stalks onward to torture and craze.
More lovely than Zion
It shone in the sky
When the beams of Orion
Beclouded my eye,
Bringing sleep that was filled with dim mem'ries of moments obscure and gone by.
Its mansions were stately,
With carvings made fair,
Each rising sedately
On terraces rare,
And the gardens were fragrant and bright with strange miracles blossoming there.
The avenues lur'd me
With vistas sublime;
Tall arches assur'd me
That once on a time
I had wander'd in rapture beneath them, and bask'd in the Halcyon clime.
On the plazas were standing
A sculptur'd array;
Long bearded, commanding,
rave men in their day—
But one stood dismantled and broken, its bearded face battered away.
In that city effulgent
No mortal I saw,
But my fancy, indulgent
To memory's law,
Linger'd long on the forms in the plazas, and eyed their stone features with
awe.
I fann'd the faint ember
That glow'd in my mind,
And strove to remember
The aeons behind; &
21.4k
#
Each body part
sizzled in pure pleasure
in the blissed wake
of your oral efforts
brought forth the waves
of rapturous delight...
Spurs poetic inspiration
in equal liberation
of desires to please.
Bodies transpose
in fluid motion
as brazen eyes meet.
Savor the voluptuous image before you.
Indulge your eyes in my carnal halo
before they roll to the back of your head.
On all fours
knees between your thighs
tips of swollen breast
caress your chest
tasting fresh honey
upon lips in a kiss.
Ripples of ardor
hover
by wet trails
of sensual kisses
suckling towards
the apex.
Breathe in
the slow motion pace
that pulsates eagerness
to the fore tumescing bulge
leaking with anticipation
of viscous lava.
Tickles of silken hair
against flesh edges closer.
Emerging subtle grumbles
in deep resonance
betray your impatience .
Hands tightly twine
in tangled hair
to maneuver
the treasure hunt.
Licked lips pause
at the sight of fire
burning in
glazed gazes
before engulfing
the throbbing member.
Plump ruby lips
greet velvety texture
in a slow deep dive.
Tongue curls around
the flavor
in a dulcet embrace.
Moans release
as grip tightens
in my hair
settles the
rhythmic pace
to taste in an
oscillating dance.
The masculine aroma of heady musk
lingering there, arouses my appetite.
With my enthusiasm
attuned to
your preferred rhythm
suckling, slurping
surface and dive
in measured unison.
Break of breath
allows tongue
freedom to roam below,
licking, soft kissing
the tender hammock
of testicles.
Tongue and lips escalate higher
to mount another assaulting dive
deeper in the depths
of the cusp in cavity.
Wetted fingers
probe even lower
circling superficially
as gasp escapes
your heavy breath;
flaming eyes lock.
Finger dips in
with expert finesse
gorging hardened growth
within a wrapped hand.
Thighs tighten
with rocking grip.
Head thrusts onward,
drilling forward
in each dive.
Salvia slips
fingers grip
lips dip
Engorged swell, flesh tightens in an intensity
of volcanic eruption ...
HALTS
assault
Pace retracts.
Loosened lips kiss tip.
*“Soon sweetheart, your time will ***
inside me as we surrender to synergy."*
#
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 7:51 AM UTC
A brisk pace set makes my heart beat so fast
The thrill of the run means I feel no pain
With every step onward, strong as the last
I'm lost in my head with the drops of the rain
Wet as the puddles my feet slip into
I glide through the air, floating on pride
The prints in the ground show where I've been through
The grin on my face shows where in my mind
I love the feeling you get on a run
When nothing else matters but what you see
The sights I notice before I am done
The feeling of such raw intensity
The passion inside burns the creator
But I save its hot embers for extinguishing later
May 23, 2010
May 23, 2010 at 6:01 PM UTC
And in this courtroom
So filled with Four Nations
The Sun held her head up high,
Lighting the way for their tales and psalms:
I am the King of Spades.
Righteous ambition is my goal.
The bravery of the Spades is made known to others
Only through such matters.
Perseverance is our path to Victory
Endurance, our greatest desire.
We, the Spades, partner with Father Time
To belong as a mighty people
Forever more.
I am the Queen of Diamonds
The splendor and enjoyment of Life's beauty is my passion.
A Diamond's journey is a one of glorious awe
That no one can compare.
Loveliness surrounds this pretty people
And the Artist shall forever be pleased by them.
Our perception of artistry leaves most in awe
And this fact is forever the passion we strive for.
I am the Queen of Clovers
Survival is the sole lifestyle of the Clovers
In this wretched and unforgiving world
The Clovers must stay strong
Holding the clubs of the ancients,
We prevail
Onward shall we extend our power
The Clovers will remain
Forever the mightiest.
I am the King of Hearts.
The rapid spread of emotional ties
Is what us Hearts long for.
Threads of fate surround our people
Binding them to one another.
Love, lust, infatuation
Oh, these are the things that steady our nation!
So filled with Faith, Hope and Love
Our Hearts shan't fail us
As passion will never cease
To flow in our veins
—ah, yes!
This is the way of the Hearts.
And in this courtroom
So filled with Four Nations
The Sun laid down her head
Whilst the Moon finally awoke and,
Smiled his light onto them below.
Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 6:42 PM UTC
The sun goes onward, rising higher.
Our bright beacon, the balloon of fire.
And little do these worldlings see,
Afternoon will go, the night is soon to be.
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 2:38 PM UTC
De-winged and flightless
is the dragonfly
that tried to slip by
in my slipstream,
It found instead the pickup
traversing the alleyways
of my convoluted imagination.
I don’t know why I’m driving,
ever driving someplace
unrealized and unexplored.
I feel so disconnected,
I feel so disrespected by the world
sometimes
But that’s not fair
it has been good to me.
I feel so disconnected
sometimes
and yet it comes in times
when I’m most consumed
most surrounded.
Maybe I’m just tired
and the walls around me quiver only
from the struggles of my waking eyes,
Maybe I’m just bitter
that I can’t have the perfect life
and feel as if nothing could be better,
Maybe I’m affected
by this liquid life I’m draining from my cup
in hopes of finding a different day
at the bottom.
Is it jealousy that lingers in my mind
or mere longing tinged with a heavy
dose of confusion?
I am confused.
And yet I’m still alive
unlike my dragonfly
and so I stumble onward.
-BRD
Nov 22, 2010
Nov 22, 2010 at 4:03 PM UTC
I see the soft, charming ringlets bounce up, down, and around
As my little cousin opens her gift.
I hear the tinkling sound of her excited voice,
but feel sick to my stomach when she tells Mommy and Daddy what it is.
She squeals "Barbie!"
And I want to scoop her up and run,
Far, far, away from the little plastic doll,
On, on, onward toward a safe view of beauty.
Her ignorance is bliss, but I know better,
And I pray with a heavy heart
For that beautiful, creative mind underneath the ringlets.
I desperately ask some higher power
How we can protect her from that little doll.
What were you thinking,
I want to yell at the grown ups.
Didn't you learn from us?
Don't you know that Barbie cut open our hearts and sewed in her plastic ideal
Before they had beaten long enough for us to walk?
That she shoved sharp words in our head
Before we could string together full sentences?
That we never stood a chance,
From the moment we tore open the shiny paper
Dotted with cartoon Christmas trees?
That the "must-have" gift for a little girl
Would enslave our bodies and minds to a "must-have" torture for the rest of our lives,
And teach our brothers and classmates to look for the woman
With not enough calories in her body to sustain a simple memory,
With not enough room in her waist to hold a kidney?
Maybe it's not all your fault, you grown-ups.
Maybe you've been chained to the unattainable images for so long
That you've forgotten the shackles were even there.
But does that not scare you?
Maybe you'll remember the strain
When you see a beautiful young woman's scars,
When you hear a breaking voice speak about her friend's final breaths
At her own fragile hands filled with little pills.
But most of all, I pray to God that you won't have to remember too late,
I hope you don't have to remember when you're chained to her hospital bed
Because the insufficiency you gifted her in a shiny plastic box
Started a cycle of sinister self-hate and destructive delusion
That she cannot outrun.
I won't let you forget, because you cannot remember that way.
I won't let you forget, because she can't end up that way, like we did.
You think you gave her a pretty little toy in a shiny little package.
Didn't you learn from us?
You gave her Pandora's box.
You look at me funny,
When I replace the impossibly-sized plastic "woman" in her hands
With a toddler-sized plastic piano.
You may not remember, but I always will,
And I will dedicate my life to making sure
These beautiful ringlets will never have to.
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 1:43 PM UTC
I'm living in my mind,
walking a road I have paved.
Listening to the pounding,
of my heart that can't be saved;
an empty hole I had caved,
long before my journey started,
long before my hope strained.
Waiting for a fleeting step,
wishing for a second thought,
but still emptiness lurks,
where the love had fought,
from how the voices talked.
I'm waiting for a different place,
of what my mind is not.
A saddened memoir,
that spoke forgotten loss.
I'm falling deeper down,
where all the pain was washed,
and the guilt caught.
In a hidden valley of emotion,
of punishing thoughts.
Still I'm walking onward;
following the road.
People told me to hold caution,
for it should not be condoned.
I can't call it my own,
because this road that I am taking,
can never be my home--
Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 3:54 PM UTC
In the darkest depths of dream time
The mind does start to play
I can't get any peace while I'm awake
It's better off this way
I'm going for a joyride
On a psychedelic tortoise
Riding barefoot through the air
On a wave of floating fairydust
A mass of smiling faces
Of people as we pass them by
I wave and grin right back at them
And breathe a contented sigh
The sun isn't just red and yellow
It's blue and green and pink
The tortoise glides towards it
We're heading there I think
Fairies sprinkle magic dust
with gold and silver hues
The land of golden memories
Where no-one sings the blues
We drift around from place to place
Past villages and towns
Just floating through the cosmos
Enveloped in sights and sounds
Onward to the morning
My tortoise brings me back to light
to spend my day anticipating
where we shall travel to tonight.
Oct 21, 2010
Oct 21, 2010 at 7:40 AM UTC
Lead us, Evolution, lead us
Up the future's endless stair;
Chop us, change us, **** us, **** us.
For stagnation is despair:
Groping, guessing, yet progressing,
Lead us nobody knows where.
Wrong or justice, joy or sorrow,
In the present what are they
while there's always jam-tomorrow,
While we tread the onward way?
Never knowing where we're going,
We can never go astray.
To whatever variation
Our posterity may turn
Hairy, squashy, or crustacean,
Bulbous-eyed or square of stern,
Tusked or toothless, mild or ruthless,
Towards that unknown god we yearn.
Ask not if it's god or devil,
Brethren, lest your words imply
Static norms of good and evil
(As in Plato) throned on high;
Such scholastic, inelastic,
Abstract yardsticks we deny.
Far too long have sages vainly
Glossed great Nature's simple text;
He who runs can read it plainly,
'Goodness = what comes next.'
By evolving, Life is solving
All the questions we perplexed.
Oh then! Value means survival-
Value. If our progeny
Spreads and spawns and licks each rival,
That will prove its deity
(Far from pleasant, by our present,
Standards, though it may well be).
10.2k
"There is no forgiveness for any kind of unspeakable Evil that one has already committed... but redemption.. at any cost.. may not be forgiven.. but shall help proceed, one, onward in the journey towards something that might be suffice. To become something.. 'better'."
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 2:39 PM UTC
The lower back arches
Muscles tangle in with the spine
And intertwining curvature sneaks between vertebras
Creating a vineyard of sweet spirits
That I could drink from the palms of your hands
As though the gentle and rough intentions
Had forever been engraved in a fate
That the universe hadn’t even planned for it
Otherwise the circumstances wouldn’t have been
And so foolish, I looked onward to the lit pavement
Walking between the crowd in hopes that
The grasping of my soul would stop from being tortured
In ways so tender that I wish I could expand in to the millions of atoms I am
Your skin felt like a warm liquid
That washed over your bones structure
Your eyes, those brown eyes
That looked at me with a shine that
I wasn’t sure if everyone else could see
And the light freckles and tinges of skin tone
Pixelated the platform of your body
And I, could look at you forever
Without even thinking twice about tomorrow
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 12:01 PM UTC
*Growing to a man and embracing my life.
My commitment to Allah, a journey begins with no strife.
Once in a lifetime, a pilgrimage to Mecca must be the end,
To my commitment to my religion and forgiveness of sin.
Number 7 has meaning as the journey begins.
First stop Medina, as I seek out peace.
Hajj station to Bath, dress in the Ihram.
Praying at Masjid Nabawi, purity, equality for all.
A statement of intent, I commit to all.
Entry to Masjid al-Haram complex is now allowed.
Circling seven times Kaaba as I pray to God.
Sipping water from Zam Zam to keep the law.
Walk through the hills of Safa and Marwa times seven,
Where I pray seven times more.
Prayers along the way to my God,
At Mount Arafat then other sacred sites.
Kneeling down to pray to Allah, Day and night.
Sleeping the night with 5 million strong,
Then rise up to stone the devil to atone,
Shaving head for cleansing, showing respect for God.
Sacrifice lambs to feed the poor.
Onward to Mecca, back once more.
Circle Kaaba, pray to my God
Repeating Tawaf on each turn of seven and no more.
Circle Safa, Marwa then on to Mina.
On to Mecca again for more prayers to my God
Enter Makkah performing Hajj,
Before the faithful return to Mecca on seven then do a farewell Tawaf.*
Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 11:28 PM UTC
Did you see the stars
As they shone on you
Vivid like a thousand scars
Inside the darkest blue
Did you see the hero
But that hero was you
Onward for people feel
When music becomes true
In the end you're never gone
Eternally remembered in a song
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 12:32 PM UTC
I’ve been here all the while.
Like an old truck stop…
A dwelling full of life..hardly noticed.
One day your spirit tank runs dry
and you must stop and stay for a while.
The once overlooked dwelling helps through filling
the tanks of those left empty handed
The other spirit leaves, thankful, for not being left out in “no where land”
to die stranded.
The exchange is of care with no need of personal gain
Simply “I’ll come back to visit” and “to bring some friends with me.”
To the stop that helped a stranded visitor
Return on their way
Simply out of care to see to it that they are able to continue,onward,
to another well traveled day.
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 12:06 AM UTC
Cuckqueen
in a kink clutch
breaking a twisted angel
on the rack of
onward Christian solders
in ecstatic flagellations
for ***** saliva cliterature
with a mouth black window widows bite
in a white lie light
of cruel dark night
while jazz ****
layonaise spatters
where its soft and hurts good
and fossil **** *******
drive down the armageddon highway
in a bright burn
with ***** feet on clean sheets
and drooling tongues
lickalotapuss
Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 1:20 PM UTC
A frigid night--
the frosty air.
I shiver in the wake..
My fragile, numb fingers
attempt to touch my face.
I'm frozen....
The crisp, biting wind
gusts violently toward me..
I exhale a visible breath
and trudge onward
over the frozen lake.
Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 10:00 PM UTC
I usually begin these rants with a question.
But i find myself lacking in just this instance.
For whom can say.
Anything more
When ash refuses to respond.
No message can be relayed.
Just more things that i silently promise.
As i figuratively toast to a memory that will never do you justice.
Is it disrespectful to take words so literal.
To the point.
That looking down gun barrels and beer bottles.
Turned into a ****** routine that pride would boast.
Only there was no smile in my smile.
Inhaling disappointment.
As the years of missed visits and substance abuse.
Led me here.
At your deathbed.
wishing my words could reach beyond.
Without worry of a certain spectres blade in my shadow.
Then somehow.
I made my word.
The only thing worth asking about.
Because allowing the past to weave around the last routine we shared.
Would force everything that i have come to embody.
To null
Et fin.
But no.
Your gift was ever changing.
Trading a jack for skills.
While masking scars that only those with them would know of.
And in the darkest moments did i find a crystal.
Clear.
Resolve.
To struggle onward.
Tears wont spell the revisions we seek.
and i was taught to always look my best, no matter the destination.
Everything that i am.
Came from you.
It didn't come from a book nor a Professor.
I can only hope to pass on your wisdom.
Although cryptic at times.
Will remain in my heart.
So even though I will forever be thinking of a new metaphor.
A penny will sit in my pocket.
Until the day that I can place it in your palm.
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 5:25 AM UTC
A supine position
upon my bed
and a slow turning
of my head
I look out through my window
and by chance
LISTEN!!
Hearing the howling
and chilling desultory gusts
of wind
Noticing seemingly deceptive
immutable muffled
grey-white
low hanging clouds
enveloping everything
in its heavenly path
with coinciding
feelings
of being enclosed,
a slight hint,
the oncoming winter
A sunless sky also
matches the early November mood
as virtually motionless
elongated pearl-grey-clouds
having distinct
wind-kissed
topsy-turvy-wavy-ruffled bottoms
that travel and permeate
onward
across the heavens
These eerie vapors
s t r e t c h
from north to south
east to west
casting Buddism's
grey colored shadows
upon the earth below
while not permitting
any sky blue
to peek through
A distant howl and barking
of
a dog,
my inner volcano snuffed out,
the tranquilization of Hercules...
Time seemingly
stops altogether
and hangs...
... heated feelings
dissipate
into
cool nothingness...
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 4:27 PM UTC
XLI
I thank all who have loved me in their hearts,
With thanks and love from mine. Deep thanks to all
Who paused a little near the prison-wall
To hear my music in its louder parts
Ere they went onward, each one to the mart’s
Or temple’s occupation, beyond call.
But thou, who, in my voice’s sink and fall
When the sob took it, thy divinest Art’s
Own instrument didst drop down at thy foot
To hearken what I said between my tears, . . .
Instruct me how to thank thee! Oh, to shoot
My soul’s full meaning into future years,
That they should lend it utterance, and salute
Love that endures, from Life that disappears!
7k
The lotus floating on the cool mountain stream,
A swirl of light pink,
The water around it seemed to gleam;
A lotus that floats and never sinks!
The other flowers around you aren't quite so pretty,
You're so pretty and pure,
No other flower I admire so much you're the only I see;
Left with me, you pretty dear of that I am sure!
You're quite my treasure,
I love to see you floating on your creek,
Seeing you is my delightful pleasure;
Your beauty I admire and seek.
You float onward on your stream,
And I lay here in my bed asleep,
I quickly awaken from my dream;
I feel so sad that this wasn't real I feel like I could weep.
~Marian~
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 10:53 PM UTC
Crawling through my brain till it has made channels connecting to tunnels like little circuits replacing my nerves, the little worm I call Loneliness wriggles onward.
A constant motion of forward goes that worm, bringing with it a never ending feeling of monachopsis.
Day after day it dwells in my mind as the worm carries on.
It adapts and evolves finding a solution to every mastermind plot I find from removing this creature, this beast, this worm from my mind.
“Friendship is betrayal, they all leave and deceive in the end,” it whispers through my head as if another conscience inside my being.
I fear the worms words and obey every command. Dare I disobey what dismay would come my way?
“Happiness is a lie along with perfection, never trace your hands along such deadly lines, the lines of which a mortal mind should never tread,” he says using my beliefs against me. “Happiness is for those who belong, not for you, never for you!”
The worm screams those words through my mind anytime I laugh or smile reminding me not to be so daft.
Oh beautiful, wonderful,brilliant demon of mine.
Keeping me from trying to find ways to end the suffering in my life
Morbid torment in the back of my mind,
Keeping me from trying to find ways to silence the loneliness screaming within, bringing me further into the dark.
What would I do without you, dear Loneliness?
You cloud my mind and free me from my foolish desires.
Why should I not be alone?
If I was meant to feel together,
Then together surely I would feel.
Why should I feel happiness when happiness isn’t mine?
How selfish I would be without you holy creature,
Beautiful blessed worm of wonder.
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 1:27 AM UTC