"orally" poems
First you will need
a couple baby toes
one by one
in you go
Then add the hair
of Rapunzel's despair
You stir and you stir
Quickly then, add the kitten fur
Mix in the chicken feet
But paint the toes first
Then add the ******
From a stolen lady's purse
Add cream of daisy
And ***** willow too
Then let it boil
For an hour or two
Once it is done
Scoop the foam off the top
Ingest ****** daily
Drop by drop
Aug 30, 2010
Aug 30, 2010 at 5:46 PM UTC
Blank page
soon to be filled
with
all heart
needles in each cell
burning in all
muscles
sleep in all eyes
testament to having
all given up already
cliché
action of morbid
sadism
this place, ********
that place, worse
“Nothing will change when you get there.”
People don't.
Places don't.
High buildings,
they are not sails.
To distant lands
where everyone is in love
and time is perfect.
Instead.
It's gutters, toxic.
It's sewers, pollution.
It's ****** it's *****
It's an emetic given ******
as one force fed ****
It's lonely.
It's alone.
It's time.
It's empty.
____________________________________________________
It's loveless, callous, wrong, degenerate.
Empty,
empty,
empty, again and again.
No these buildings only
house the soulless vessels
of dead.
They are death.
The lights.
They are the city dying.
The skyline.
A skeleton.
Bleeding out
the last
blood in
it's marrow.
The City is dead.
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 11:22 PM UTC
I Came to Know LOVE ...
I came to know love the moment I knew you
I came to know love , the moment I came close to You
It's only when i remember you that i feel secure ,
That my heart reaches the highest degrees of faith and declare that it's pure,
I closed my heart from everyone except you ,
And I started whispering knowing that you already knew
what's there in my heart and what I've been through. ..
"Oh Allah,the ONE who sees secrets of hearts while we don't see you ,
The Most Merciful and Forgiving ,
I declare my repentance for you ...
For you are the only one who loves me more than I even do love myself ...
Oh my Lord,
With each hearty glimpse of love I do possess in my heart ,
I ardently have two types of love for you ...
The love of inclination when your remembrance keeps me away from everything but you ...
And truly the love you are WORTHY of is when you unveil the veils for me to see you ...
All praise is for you my Creator ,
You privileged me with every purchase of happiness,
The very significant of love and care ...
From creating me a human being and not other creature ,
For the fancy perfect religion of Islam ...
Oh Allah, my heart beats would speak more eloquently than my words would be able to do ,
Cause no word is worthy in front of your greatness , no meaning could be shaped ****** ...
Ya Allah , please grant me deep faith and belief in you ,
Mold my heart into a precious pearl ,
One that encompass pure love, benevolence and grace ...
Oh Lord of el3alamin;
Make me close to you the way you want me to be righteous and pious ,
Guide my steps to ensure the right path of true belief and happiness ...
And make me contribute in spreading peace and happiness ,
Through spreading the light of Islam all over the nations ...
Ya Allah don't let my heart beat for anyone except you,
For your love is the pure and all the rest is just an illusion ...
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 9:53 AM UTC
Starlight shines from limousines
On the streets of Monte Carlo
But I'd prefer a cup of tea
In a caff with Gary Barlow.
He'd draw inspiration from
The drabness of the venue
And weave sweet melodies around
The items on the menu.
Spreading sounds of happiness
Around the greasy spoon.
He may be a chub-a-lub
But he sure can write a tune.
I could take him back to mine
To feast on milk and cookies.
Watching pirate DVDs
In my flat above the bookies.
I would part the curtains
So the jealous neighbourhood
Saw me ****** rewarding
The blond scribe of 'Back for Good'.
He could climb atop me
Like he mounted Kilimanjaro
Everything changes forever
Once you've tasted Gary Barlow.
Down to earth despite his millions
Cuddlier than Robbie Williams.
Looking pensive in a vest,
Gary Barlow is the best.
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 9:23 AM UTC
There exists a mystical and quadruple representation of words, which is likened to a dictatorial Superstate, where translation is subject to that which is spoken, heard, written and read within the context of trans-national capitalism.
As we gaze from beyond the glow of the pulsating circumference, we can humbly acknowledge the ludicrous predicament of the many who are ruled by the few.
The parameters of this earthen citizenship may be somewhat characterized by embracing the perceived benefits of the system and a state of financially intoxicated anosognosia. However, as we traverse this metaphysical cataclysm where the majority votes of public arrangement diametrically oppose absolute law and that which is deemed to be reasonable; our compulsory co-operation self-regulates with a cardiovascular beat of semantic propaganda and monopolized dissention, where the relinquished rights of our revered forefathers have been re-written by coercive legislators in the name of socio-political equality.
The philosophy of meaning and political expression both buries into and removes her gorgeous face from the cuniform textures of Sahara catacombs, where we ****** relate and disengage from the **** with tyranny.
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 12:43 AM UTC
To taste you is to slip into
that Freudian pit, and
turn a baby still
****** fixed:
To tongue out
the parts that might
identify you fully
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 7:55 PM UTC
i used to buy astronaut candy
when i was twelve.
in case you're wondering what astronaut candy is,
it's gelatinous goo that you squeeze from a tube.
the particular brand that we always bought
had a special tube.
it was dome shaped on top
with a hole in its concave center.
the point was,
you squeezed the tube,
out comes the goo,
and you lick it off;
most of us just ****** it out.
three varieties:
blue raspberry,
orange,
and everyones favorite,
white cherry.
in hindsight,
i guess that explains why so many of my friends
turned out to be so
"fabulous".
maybe we should've opted for the candy cigarettes.
nah.
****** pleasuring a plastic tube:
so much more fun.
May 31, 2011
May 31, 2011 at 7:58 PM UTC
I begin by sharing a quote
“I think that we are like stars. Something happens to burst us open; but when we burst open and think we are dying; we’re actually turning into a supernova. And then when we look at ourselves again, we see that we’re suddenly more beautiful than we ever were before.” ― C. JoyBell C.
They say that if you do what you love
You’ll never work a day in your life
It wasn’t until recently that I realized and felt what it really is that I love to do
What it really is that could maintain constant without growing increasingly melancholy over time
(Like most other things for me)
In the simplest of words
That quote is exactly what happened to me
I say "happened" as if it hasn’t happened again
But it has
Multiple times now
The first was the most invigorating
The broadest and most awakening
As the continuity of life and Dukkha occur
I find myself growing familiar with the course
Just like drugs
It gets less euphoric
Not as magical
But instead gets replaced with a deeper, clearer understanding of the experience and outcome
Something much more impactful and deeply rooted
It now alters my consciousness and awareness
Since the first time
I have felt an internal urge
To share my experience with anyone who’s willing to listen
Whether it be by prose
Or ******
It is mentally and spiritually rewarding
My goal has always been to be the burst to someone
The burst that opens them up and launches their soul into a metamorphosis where the outcome is them becoming a supernova
Just like I did
The idea of I vanishes when speaking/writing about the ecstasy and liberation I gain by sharing the experiences of my spiritual journey
And when I am able to witness my passion for telling so reaching and sinking into someone else’s mind
Feelings of exciting wholesomeness fill me
When I'm able to observe someone else’s awareness lift to their surface because of my words and energies
Exponential ecstasy hugs and diffuses into my soul
Using eloquence to uplift others is my gift from the Universe herself
It is my personal way of showing gratitude and love for Her
I realized that humans all connect and grow together when I felt the uplifting I had instilled in others reciprocated into me
I want to heal others
I want to guide them towards their own spiritual awareness
This universal love and compassion for life itself and everything in, around, and about it is far too majestic and vast to not share with the world
The intuition and urge is persistent
I am currently searching for the perfect environment for it to flourish within me
And when I do
The final Truth will emerge
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 7:56 PM UTC
Dream a Million Dreams
I could dream a million dreams
With a million different views
But there's nothing I could dream
That's quite as beautiful as you
You have a big caring heart
And an amazing mind
You truly are so special
You're simply one of a kind
Your beauty has no rival
Not even Helen of Troy
Everytime I see your pictures
It just fills me up with joy
I long to hold you in my arms
And make sweet love to you
Kissing you all day and night
****** pleasing you
I would treat you like a queen
To me you're royalty
I would worship every inch
Of your stunning body
I could dream a million dreams
With a million different views
But I could never have a dream
That's as beautiful as you.
Jun 2, 2021
Jun 2, 2021 at 7:21 AM UTC
I hear your heart beating
from across the room
your asthma is so cute
when it is trying to **** you
-
Sink your teeth into me
****** fixated on my flesh
salt lingers on your tongue
here comes the chemical reaction
Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 4:34 AM UTC
I've never been one for talking.
My words have always been used sparingly
As a child, they were minimal and meaningful
But my years progressed
I lost confidence
So they became less and less.
I started to believe
That my opinion was worthless
And I could never formulate a perfect method
In which to express my emotions to others
So I began to fall into myself.
As depression hit like a crashing wave
And anxiety was the flood that followed
I looked for ways to cope.
I would attack myself with anything sharp
Sending me to the hospital was it's only effect.
An eight year battle with an eating disorder
Seldom reaped any benefits.
But through it all,
I began recording my experiences.
Not ******
But with a pen in my hand
And a cigarette hard-pressed between my lips.
I would write anywhere I could
In classes
In my bedroom
Sometimes, surrounded by nature
And it was so unexpectedly freeing.
It was as though
My words finally made sense
And flowed seamlessly, one into the next
I didn't stammer or hesitate when I wrote.
I felt esteemed and witty and self-assured
I finally had a space where I was free of judgement.
All in all,
Writing is a gift
To express thoughts and say exactly what you mean
Is beautiful.
For me,
Writing is a means of escape
Of expression
Of art.
Writing is really
The way I communicate with the world around me.
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 9:25 PM UTC
1 vowel
lies
no constrictions indicating syllabic peaks
like a
dot.
1 consonant
is
basically nasally flowing
pronounced at the front of the
tongue.
Both,
equally,
refer to letters of the alphabet.
correspond to sounds made ******
all along our way.
but, all vowels and consonants
without hearing their relevance.
are
deaf
and
dumb.
Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 1:00 AM UTC
Let your delicate fingers trace and study every inch of my body
Be surprised that no one else knows it
How else do you want to study?
****** darling?;)
Or on hands experience, baby?c;
If you want it both ways, you'll have it down in no time
Let's hit the headboard big-time
We are inseparable
Completely entwined
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
Open your mouth wide,
Feel it in your hand.
Put it in your mouth,
And try to close your mouth.
Don't Bite, Don't spit!
Make sure the liquid is in your mouth for a while before you swallow.
Notice it slide down,
down your throat,
And feel better now that it's over.
That's the proper way to take pills!
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 12:44 PM UTC
"Doctor Doctor, help me please!"
squealed Vince little hurtfully.
"What is it?", asked the doctor,
"Why have you come to me?"
"Dr. Lee, I think I swallowed
a little thing I remember not."
in a sheepish tone did he reply,
the only excuse he had got.
"Now now," consoled the doctor
while softly rubbing his back,
"it would help you ease out a bit,
first get rid of your anorak."
"Open your mouth, need to check
it may be removed ****** he said.
To ease the pain he thought something
"Lay your head down on the bed".
Using a flashlight he peeked into
the throat of little Vince Susie.
"It looks like some blue coloured piece.
Now you remember what it could be?"
"Actually," started Vince, "I know what
I had swallowed. It is a Lego brick."
"What?" gasped the Doctor in horror,
"Are you choking?" asked with a crick.
"No, I am serious." Vince replied
stupidly. The doctor couldn't control
his smile. "You need to **** now,
need to get that out as a whole."
"Doctor? Why you cursing me?" queried
Vince, as he thought the Doctor swore.
Doctor clarified he did not,
"Kid, other work to do, I have a lot more."
Gave him a brine solution
and a bucket to puke into
Vince drank the brine with a glug
And now he needed a tissue.
Swallowed the piece, painfully so,
but out came rushing his *****
pouring into the bucket
Lego brick shot like a comet.
"Thank you doctor, you were most
kind." said Vince thankfully so,
"But now I must be excused, as
it definitely is my time to go."
"Wait up!" stopped Dr. Lee, "Who's
gonna pay your fees, dear lad?"
"I don't think I need to pay, as
My mom says you are my dad."
-awkward silence-
Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 3:47 AM UTC
Here you you are again
Tripping up each sy sy syllable
It’s like walking a smooth path
Except, I am skipping
My in-step barely touches the dirt
Before I can form the s s sound
With each skip and st st step
I try to ease my stride
How I long for this
A fluent pace, without a scamper
For I have places to be
And thoughts that need a voice
But, yet I skip and fu fu fumble
Tripping on each stone
And each vowel, noun and sound, mostly “e”
Is skipped and repeated ******
Apr 11, 2012
Apr 11, 2012 at 10:18 PM UTC
Being Me!
Child of war.
I am not.
Gentle as a lamb.
However:
The wind changed.
Strengthening the world inside
Lest the world dare forget me.
Innocence is not my name.
A wild child in a body somewhat haggard.
My sword crops up now and then.
The temper can fly vile.
My tongue can lash as cat'o'nines.
Cast out aspersions,
Fly on golden eagle wings.
Bearing with them curses.
Blessings too, at times.
As passion flower.
Rages infernally.
As hell shocked woman scorned.
Pretty in pink at times.
Pasty.
Virtual silence ******
Never in the written word.
A vibrant life of tragedy.
On a world of pages posted.
A sow, a cow.
A box of trouble.
Her temples will never crumble.
She is strong.
Supportive,
Sometimes cries.
Regularly dies inside.
Her will will be a match for many.
She suffers not fools gladly.
Never in a daydream.
Not ever, never even in a dare.
Who cares?
If I were able to do a degree.
I'd do a degree in poetry,
Then the world would see the real me!
Bring on the high heeled *****
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 6:21 PM UTC
In the reckoning of abandon
The restless heart bleeds out
Surely you felt this pain before
Get a hold of yourself!
The matter of loss you witnessed
Now bury it down deep in silence
When life deals you lemons
Try not not to be so ****** violent
But mostly
We need you to learn
Not to be so **** concerned
Just close you heart and be on your way
And please don't question the way we cave...
In the reckoning of abandon
The restless heart bleeds out
The truth is we learn
To keep it to ourselves
...
Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 7:50 AM UTC
Verbally or ******
Things not explained clearly
This way or that way
Stuck here with noway
Lives go around
People who surround
Express nothing
But instinct
That lose me within
To shatter and close in
Remembering of happy days
Smile on every face
Couldn't figure out
Why so low?
Want to smile
Want to talk
But filthy walk
Sways the way
With tincture of instinct
That nothing is brewing
But screeching mind aloud!
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 4:46 PM UTC
It started as a whisper.
I lacked confidence in my dreams, and spoke softly.
You brushed my hopes aside, for I was only a child.
I grew and matured, hoping you'd hear my older, more deliberate wish.
Yet in your eyes, I was still a child.
I spoke louder, hoping my volume was the issue.
Yet, you acted like I did not speak.
But I DID speak.
As Webster said, I was expressing my thoughts, opinions and feelings ******
I spoke firmly.
I spoke strongly.
I spoke pleadingly.
As time passed, my body grew,
along with confidence in myself and my dreams.
I spoke again, a different woman.
I spoke again, for others said I could do anything, for I was me.
I spoke again, more forcefully than ever before, causing echoes in the room.
I was sure you had heard me.
Yet you shot me down, ignoring me and my voice.
And then I screamed.
I screamed until our neighbors, friends and family,
from Korea to California
heard my voice.
I screamed until the dogs in the shelters (and the sitting rooms)
yelped in alarm.
I screamed until wine glasses (and my heart) shattered into a million pieces and fell on the floor.
I screamed until my sound echoed off the mountains and caused the birds on the trees flew away in fear.
I screamed until I fell on the floor, sobbing at your feet.
I screamed at you,
I screamed at me,
I screamed at god.
And no one heard me.
You have muted my voice,
My throat is now hoarse.
But I am still screaming.
Sep 1, 2010
Sep 1, 2010 at 7:06 PM UTC
I just want to smoke or eat or drink! ,
all three perhaps.
I'm ****** dependent
on the brink
can't think!
straight.
All this creativity
trying to get out,
I need to read or sleep
or shout!
Can't stop
the time is flying by,
can't believe I came here
just to lay down and die.
Must be something else
to do
better,
out there,
waiting.
Meanwhile
I'll just sit and
think
try to get off the brink.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 4:23 PM UTC
I wish happiness
Was in a syringe.
Find a vein and inject it.
Without thinking twice.
I wish happiness was
In a pill.
One I can take ******
And wait for it to dissolve.
But it doesn’t come in these things.
I am not worthy of it.
I feel like there is no way out.
I am sinking deeper and deeper.
I’m gone: don’t expect me back.
Apr 27, 2012
Apr 27, 2012 at 12:37 PM UTC
8836 Blvd. E.(Apt. 3K) W.N.Y.,N.J.07093
March 24, 2017
OCCUPANT of Apt. 2K
8836 Blvd. E.
W.New York,NJ 07093
Dear Neighbor:
Just because I HAVEN'T(any) APPROPRIATE TIME to speak ****** to you, therefore I took the liberty to write directly to you in the hope that you'll be kind enough to take into consideration the following request:
Consequently, if you permit me, I'll ask you(right now), as follows:
Did you(ever) anything hear considering someone, or(did you)see) somebody who was looking for me(in front of(my) Apt. 3K, (in the hall) in connection with any message, news, or information) in the past days, weeks, or during the last months, or within the past several years,(somehow, somewhere in the building), ANY TIME?
Thank you for your very kind attitude toward the matter.
In expectation of your reply IN WRITING EXCLUSIVELY in the near future, I remain,
Sincerely,
(Q. Shabraya)
p.s. :
I would not want to create the impression that you'll not do me a favor that I just requested.
If you're interested regarding our ORAL CONVERSATION AT YOUR AND MY EARLIEST CONVENIENCE, if that is the case, I'll be glad to talk to you as one gentleman to another, to exchange our views, to discuss about subject that you and I wish.
Your(eventual) any FRIENDLY remark, CONSTRUCTIVE objection, LOGICAL observation, RATIONAL comment, etc., WELCOME!
It's not only an APPROPRIATE, BUT HIGHLY DESIRABLE
Thanks, again.
Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 8:34 AM UTC
If people could be
a tad more appreciative
of poetic expressions
targeting them
with
too many verses for their eyes
innumerous adjectives for hair
absurd geographical descriptions of body parts
and cheesy feelings too shameful to ****** express
and just
just get a bit more intimate
with all those miserable
lonely
sorrowful
poets...
that would be great.
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 7:01 PM UTC
we're going to speak
the language of love
all through the night
we're going to speak
the language of love
in the dawning light
it'll be so fine
talking in that familiar lingo
we'll speak it
like a pair of intimate amigos
the language of love
the language of love
our tongues meeting and meshing
is a steamy dialogue
sharing the warm feeling
of our special monologue
come on baby
let's commence
our love discussions
there is much
for you and I
to ****** percussion
the language of love
the language of love
is so powerful
in the message
it communicates
and its linguistics
so highly rate
we're going to speak
the language of love
all through the night
we're going to speak
the language of love
in the dawning light
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 3:57 AM UTC