"orchestrated" poems
Lush is the quietude
of the late Saturday afternoon,
rich are the silencing sounds,
as variegated as the shades of greens
of a man-seeded, nature-patchworked lawn
rays reveal some bright,
some yellowed spots,
all a potent color palette
resting worry wearied eyes,
untroubled by the gentle fading light's illumination,
that soon will disappear and seal officially,
another week gone by
the lawn,
acting as an ceiling acoustic tile,
absorbing and reflecting
the varied din of disharmonious
natural sounds orchestrated,
an ever present reminder
that true quiet
is not the absence of noise
I hear
the chill in the air,
insects debating vociferously
their Saturday evening plans,
the waves broom-swishing beach debris,
pretending to be young parents
putting away the children's toys for the eve
the birds speak in Babel multitudes of tongues,
chirps, whistles, clicks and clacks,
then going strangely silent as if all were
praying collectively the afternoon sabbath service,
with an intensity of the silent devotion
this moment, i cannot
well enough communicate,
this trump of light absolutes,
and animal maybes,
that are visually and aurally
presented in a living surround sound screen,
Dolby, of course,
all a plot of
ease and gentility,
in toto,
sweet serenity
here to cease,
no more tinkering,
leave well enough,
plenty well enough
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 10:39 AM UTC
melanin molasses, the sweetest courtship attracts the ones who have never glittered
white bullets love to kiss black skin
black on black crucificton, a gospel orchestrated by the higher powers
****** puddles lay with the concrete during the darkest hours
night bullets play white doves during the matrimony of the bottom barrels life and its fast stint.
honeymoon candles lit by the masters matches, africans seek this artificial light in times where heavens white lights could greet them with a smile and roses that are wilted.
- t.m
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 1:06 PM UTC
At the Zoo
Patriots and faux exhibit and binge on synonyms of liberty printed on beer and underwear
Advertising what should be unspoken and inspired to pervert and romanticize
Preludes to the parades and finale above us all
Weeks of saturated irony
Cuckoo bird irony and BBQ
As they reform Phoenix, rebirth of distractions and thievery
Predators in ally ways pursing America's diamonds and legs
Then gunpowder
Gunpowder of colors and cuckoos
Layers of streets in gunpowder
Towns built of gunpowder
Sky is gunpowder
We are born addicted to led and gunpowder
Gunpowder ****** in the air
Success, display and diversion and more gunpowder to ingest.
The Grand Finale
The Volta of the evening
The hammer of the judge
*** appeal of death and nature flexing it's muscles-
show us some skin!
Covering your ears
Eyes fastened-
Ready to burrow back to mothers womb
Binged and free
Chinese celebration hijacked
Red, White and Blue
And a moment of silence
Orchestrated onomatopoeia in heaven
Chorus of arousal on Earth
Band marching war machines in hell
The showdown of 241 years!
This freedom we are all grateful to only talk about
Only free to battle shackling intoxication
Men and women tugging extra weighted offspring
Sulking for indoors and portable addiction
Chanting three letter obedience
God being counted by his blessings
Fear and Statism in every breathe for salvation from our stick swatted enemies
Checkpoints that serve and protect asking for a toll;
liberty synonyms.
Arresting the too free
At the Zoo,
The cuckoos regaining reality.
The phoenix red eye and held under oath
To the next day where we are back
To hate each others freedom, again.
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 1:31 AM UTC
On the bank of a rushing brook
I sat for hours watching its course.
Peered into the clear gurgling mass
That cascaded down from a mountainous source
Like a slithering snake, it slinks and slips
It babbles downhill night and day
Rolling and gliding through plains and dales
It winds its way to the wider bay.
Dipping my fingers in its icy chill
How my hand got repelled as from a shock!
In its ripples stirred by the kissing breeze,
I saw trees, clouds and the jutting rock-
All floating in queer, fanciful shapes,
Shuddering, trembling and standing still
And the fishes leaving zigzag trails,
Swishing and swimming in the winding rill.
As I quietly watched her speedy flight
With her ***** rising in mournful heaves,
In my ears fell her whispering soft
Orchestrated by the rustle of quivering leaves
I hardly knew the time speeding by
Nor noticed the birds’ homeward flight
Or the Sun moving to the west end side
And the Sky reddening at his sight
As the brook thus continued her headlong ride
To be mingled finally with the ocean wide
I walked, brooding over man’s relentless stride
To be merged eventually with the Cosmic Guide.
May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 9:10 AM UTC
I simply cannot wait,
until the internet
turns public favor
against religion.
In its place,
the medium that
enables globalization
will exalt science.
We will not fear
being wrong.
Instead,
we will embrace
skeptical thinking,
and live according to
a collective consensus
that is based in truth,
and not in fear.
The problem lies
not with your
personal connection
to the cosmos,
but with the
established doctrine
orchestrated by the elite.
Parables and allegory
twisted by the desperation
of power hungry men.
Stories that offer
reasonable moral lessons,
but are mistakenly perceived
to be literal truth.
Religion continues to
justify acts of prejudice
and violence,
in the name of
storybook characters.
We must rise above
our iron age fairy tales.
Heed the positive lessons,
relinquish our fear of death,
and learn to exist
with an open mind.
Survival depends not
on who is the strongest
or who has the best story,
but rather upon a species
willingness and capacity
to adapt and modify
their behavior.
Science is our tool.
It can save us
from ourselves.
It is a collective enterprise
based upon critical analysis
and the constant pursuit of the
cold, hard truth.
We should not fear
what we discover.
For knowledge can be
spiritually fulfilling.
The real beauty of truth
based upon empirical evidence,
is that even if you do not want
to believe it,
it remains true.
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 3:20 AM UTC
A world wide phrase known so well as a lie, but as I say this to you, a lie, is the furthest it can get from the truth
I will not curl my pinkie around yours like kids do in elementary, I will not look into your eyes and say these words because that's just too simple, I will spend my lifetime making you believe
Making sure you do not have the slightest doubt in me, in us, in this ring I'm putting on your finger, this I promise to you
I promise
I will kiss the tears off your cheeks when you cry, I will tell you you're beautiful over and over and over even though I know so well that you'll deny it time and time again
I promise
That every word coming out of those soft luscious lips will be heard, never ignored, and when you feel like you're free falling down to the rock bottom of your life, I will be there, arms outstretched and ready to catch you, cradle you in my arms, happily walking you down the path of the journey you're destined to take
Whether it means carrying you on my back like a backpack, on my shoulders like a toddler, or in my arms like a newborn baby
I promise
I will never live without you
I will never let go of those bright blue eyes so detailed like the deep color of the ocean water, illuminated by a layered color palette of sunset
The gleam of your soft, smooth dark brown hair that catches my eye every time will always be mine, the coconut smell so enticing I lick my lips and beg for more
I promise
To always follow along to the orchestrated love song your voice plays for me every time you speak
To never stray from the beat of the drum your heart pounds every time you breathe or the wonderful wave of your laughter that bounces on air with every joke
To never let any challenges come between us or keep us apart because I will always find my way back to you like a lost puppy looking for it's owner, a baby bird trying to find it's mother, or a turtle making its way to the sea
You will stay a tattoo on my heart and a stained picture in my mind, never once leaving my thoughts, always in my arms
I promise
To think of you when my eyes are open and when they are closed, as the sun rises and as the sun falls, and until the day that I die, I will use every breath I have to whisper I love you
I promise
I do
Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 4:25 PM UTC
Bursting taps
Like broken feet
Crack,
Droning a beat.
Exclamations and hearts.
Facebook Frankenstein:
Nerves made senseless,
By hyperbolic sentiments.
Stripped as wires,
Latex skin and a rib removed,
Bringing the heart close to the keys.
Orchestrated wires and pulleys
Raising muscles like curtains.
Brushing ***** bleached hair,
Catching fingers like paper cuts.
A hollow form,
Designed in California,
Approved in New Jersey,
And made in some sweat shop.
Flash your smile,
Take your soma,
Dream of MTV;
You're the nightmare of my society.
Jul 21, 2011
Jul 21, 2011 at 5:54 PM UTC
Your taste runs like kerosene in my veins,
Our kisses, heated, sending my insides aflame;
I spontaneously combust, lover.
Skin to skin, your mouth is concentrated sin
You make lose my morals, the lust is building;
Blinding, my pupils burn;
Yours darken with something primal, tensions thickening;
The anticipation's sinking
right into my gut, I feel your touch
calloused fingertips dancing up my thighs, teasing.
Your body glistening
with sweat, trailing down south
I follow the track hungrily with my mouth
but it doesn't seem enough.
Our hearts beat fast like the ticking
of a timebomb nearing detonation;
We're going to detonate, my love.
We're going to burst in fancy colors like fireworks gone haywire,
the bed is our sky.
We're going to get lost among the sheets,
like sailing across familiar seas.
The moonlight, dangerously bright
they seem to shine from your eyes
but they darken with something like clouds on a stormy night.
And I'm not sure if there really is a God
but tonight I kept calling his name
yours interspersed in between
heavy breathing, our pants sounding
like broken notes of some orchestrated masterpiece
and the crescendo's nearing.
Our pulse following the rising melody
I am mesmerized, out of control
I am lost amidst the euphoria
right now
with you
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 12:05 AM UTC
I took a slice of the moon and brought it to my lips ever so carefully
Head heavy with thought, soul dripping with poetry
The heart’s different phases of color painted upon every wall in my home
Ever changing, raw art of emotion
For a moment as I glance out the window, the breeze combing through my hair and the fresh smell of the night meeting my nose
I begin to imagine stars dancing up in the vast sky, twirling around and breaking apart, some fading out to let the others shine
Shooting across the sky to emphasize their passion of the night
Crickets watching and singing their songs to one another, a language only they share
Humans wishing upon the stars from their homes, secrets floating around within their minds, never to be uttered
I smile and place the slice of the moon in my mouth as if it’s a sacred fruit
I close my eyes.. and lo and behold!
It’s so powerful, I am unsure if I am merely dreaming this magic
So many stars and even angels, all dancing together as if in an orchestrated play
I dance with them, twirling around graciously in sequences that were prior unbeknownst to me
I laugh in such a beautiful and unearthly manner, my voice light and airy like the angels
A large crowd of stars group together to form the constellation of a Pegasus, twinkling and sparkling ever so bright with a certain sense of mystery
I waste no time to hop on and am carried across this seemingly never ending canvass
Until I am slowly brought down to a cloud
Softer than a feather, softer than the fur of a kitten
Similar to the first embrace of a mother, invoking a deep sensation of deja vu
I sigh with comfort and from there I soon fall, as the stars abruptly yet softly alert me with kind smiles that it is time to go
The sun is rising, a single tear slips from my eye as I awaken
Already grieving and wishing to return
But maybe tonight, I’ll find another slice of the wondrous moon
And live it all again, as a true child of the sky and the heavens
Mar 27, 2023
Mar 27, 2023 at 12:36 AM UTC
In the stillness of the night beyond one can see,
When the expanse holds the stars for my mid-summer’s dreams,
Where only the presence of the birds of the night calms my spirit
And in such stillness fear preys my soul.
I could only find my wellspring of life quenched to aridness,
And only as a mirage such life exists in my being.
I find my thoughts confined in my deeds of shame or rather
Those that the enemy claims, and so
I find my cries being droplets that befriend my cheeks,
To cease and move on is as building a home as a house of sticks.
For in this journey of mine, the storms rage and roar and in such stillness
I only could hear them call-in thy gentle whispers they are as frequent
As the leaves that drop from a tree in fall.
In the stillness of the night- whom do I call?, when all lifelines
Seem to be on hold.
“Hello it is me speaking-do you recognise, Please be patient, please Hold”.
My mind is in ruins; behind cages for life in the desert has no patience.
Only it persists to feed on my soul and lives on my very last breath-
It is to my wonder that life is not the breath and the heartbeat,
For they continue to live even when life is gone.
I look up to the hill for whence my help cometh from,
Such knowledge is as vast as the sky, when only sand dunes are before my eyes.
However, I look up to the hill from whence my help cometh from,
For in such a hill rest my soul and life that has been redeemed.
Rest the life that is orchestrated and moulded into a perfect ornament.
In such a hill, rest a life that is of harmony, that is of melody ,
that the angels stride before because of its music.
In the stillness of the night, when the stars are shining and the moon
Is half asleep. When the flow in rivers walks in silence and only the insects sing.
I now find my thoughts confided in you saviour,
Even in the valley, the arid deserts and the stormy seas.
I find that you are my source of being-even far beyond what I can see.
Jun 14, 2010
Jun 14, 2010 at 8:29 PM UTC
All things must end in time
Regardless of who when where or why
I am absolved by the setting sun
In this absence of light the darkness is All, the shadow is One
The Ray of intellect pulls pieces from the vast darkness
Attached by fear, chased by longing
We run in circles, burying Truth beneath flecks of meaningless illumination
Frustation, anger, the illusion of danger.
I am a fool.
I sit, surrounded by water in a rowboat without oars demanding control or salvation.
There is no alternative, no freedom of suffering from pain nor dehydration.
My body, my boat, my ocean are destined to fall to dust
The wise man knows this and worries not.
Just as the sun sets, the rays that illuminate are impermanent
All that ever was transitions to all that can never be
Beyond suffering, beyond pain
Beyond illusory words orchestrated on this page
It is held by a fabric that cannot be named
It resonates in our being as love
It’s the deepest darkness that holds the brightest light.
You may heed my words or continue the Material spin
It’s up to you where it ends or when you begin
But know this truly and deeply my friend,
When your travels are over
Lessons learned and suffering done
We will be made One
Destined to recuperate in the womb of the Sun.
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 9:07 AM UTC
She took the colors of rainbow
And came around me in splendid array
Like a sunshine dressed to **** me five days in a row,
She sat across me to sway
My mind and my heart to bend and bow.
Within eyeshot distance
In a beautiful blue dress my lady in love
Appeared in dream like trance
Remind me of those bluebells in silky glow.
Over her glowing skin my emotions ponder
Sparkly as fire and set me free from the torments
Of her thoughts in sleepless nights that wander.
My eyes held hers only for few moments.
She flipped her hair and wrapped it around
Her neck showing her shoulder in more detail
To make up my mind about her to turn around.
Her starry eyes open wide with beautiful smile.
Looking back at me as she gloats.
Twirled her shimmering hair few times,
She orchestrated rhapsody of delights
And snapped my mind into lucid dreams.
She is irresistible that I can only whisper
Melting in love with my burning desire.
Tilted her head as she made up her hair
And left it undone as she had me set on fire.
And slowly she letting me in
Watching her over again and again.
She opens up my heart into growing sensation
As she slowly letting me in
Only to find my unconscious mind.
She touched my heart and soul deeply with love
Under her hypnotic trance so profound
As she speaks, all my love that she can deserve
Her voice cast a spell on me to surround.
She brought her hair together with a bow,
Now her wish is my command,
She locked my heart forever with love.
I can’t think of myself without her to woo,
I told her I wanted to see her every day
And whispered ‘I don’t want to miss you’
Her name is Chelsea, she lives by the bay
She winked at me and said, ‘me too’.
Near the puzzle table we started to play
Mental map of our love to display with no clue
She promised me she never broke up
And her love grows stronger every day.
I am stuck in love and waited up
To cuddle with her every night and day,
Need her now more than ever
Until my last breath can stay
We always be together and forever.
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 12:51 AM UTC
never hearing the applause
or the symphonies he orchestrated
amputating the legs of his piano
to feel the vibrations on the floor
only to get down on his knees
for music
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 5:51 PM UTC
Forged by Hephaestus himself, tempered in Satan's heart.
It moves too fast for the normal eye to see,
But leaves traces of moon glinted footsteps in the fissure of heaven's breath.
In the harmonic tune of clashing instruments, an orchestrated chaos is present.
The chord from the bowstring beats time on wooden shields.
To this, their blade waltz continues.
Their cadence unmatched by surrounding performers,
The maestros continue their viperous style.
Just as a painter cannot take away a stroke of the brush,
A swordsman cannot take away a stroke of the blade.
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 5:30 PM UTC
I live in a fairyland in heart.
A place divinely orchestrated
with Gods hand.
Where sun shines every moment
and hearts are filled with compassion.
I live in a fairyland in heart.
A place where light infiltrates dark
and peace echoes.
Where truth vibrates every moment
and spiraling energies of love blossom.
I live in a fairyland in heart.
The place I shall go to often
The place I wish to be.
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 10:02 AM UTC
*Deadly deluded deceitful demon's of: inter-racial racism; murderous religiosity; frightful jealous hackings; tribally usurping genocides; atrocious political strength-of-arms; invading ferocity; selfish presidential reasoning;
Springs cut Irises -
dripping vital red not purple,
far from my window;
self-effacing prime ministerial decrees of war; sanctioned moves by greedy banker pawns; designer labelled terrorism; War, a game now called 'Texas Billionaires Commodity'; a countries paid survival; seeded maniacal jealousy; globalisation's murdering grandiose; grandiloquent made walking bombaster(s) ; revenger mob leaders; our taxed Fools World !?
Globalisation - orchestrated profiteers, betting our losses*
May 21, 2010
May 21, 2010 at 11:16 PM UTC
As these forlorn cadences await- unfold
To compose a disbanded vow
Yielding unto harrows of gates untold
Charms death to disdainful plow
Death is plowed to a forgiving halt
While silver moonlight and whiskey dances remain
Glittering gold in this crimson vault-
Feeble souls conjure grace as graceless minds abstain
Counterfeit conceits ravish this open cellar
As the night’s last dance ceases to a disgraceful plea
The dweller’s disdain is akin to my killer
And heaven yields blood to salt the earth for thee
Come away now with your anguishing defeats
Seek not a jagged spike as the heaven’s conspire and wake
Glory and gold may turn us black as deceit
But deception admonishes the dancers in their quake
Spellbound nuances of this reality await at every turn
Mourning and fighting the finality of this grave
Orchestrated knives are rosined like honey, beckoning our blood to burn
At last, a burning reckoning comes to ravage the brave
But refrain, oh killer- host of this crimson vault
Enlist a memoir for our sins
Recalling the pieties of our gracious faults,
Enough to make this blood go thin.
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 9:08 PM UTC
Golden Silverware,
Sits Ontop Of Broken Shards Of Fine China,
A Candle Stick Lays On The Floor,
The Wood Stained With Misery,
Because She Passed,
War Broke Out,
Hearts Being Punctured With Stakes,
The String Of Sanity Starting To Break,
A Rose Picked From The Universe's Garden,
Then Set In A Vase With No Water,
A Watch Ticked Like A Metronome,
Conducting Life's Organized Chaos,
Every Heart Break Orchestrated,
And Every Death A Crescendo,
The Subjects Attacked Without Looking Back,
Taking The Shapeshifter's Life,
Because They Needed To Have An Excuse,
Other Than Being Misuderstood,
To Distroy Her,
More And More Innocent Lives Were Taken,
Just Out Of Fear,
In Daft Decision,
Most Of The Village Was Whiped Out,
And One Of The 13 Left Out Of 350,
Was The Queen's Killer
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 8:50 AM UTC
I watch our love go up in flames
Feel my soul catch fire too
Summer reminds of happier days
The face I once knew
Distance is dangerous wind
Fanning flames, vacant of your smile each day
Your heart so numb you cannot feel the burn
Hear it beat even miles away
Patience the quality I lack
Forget to give my feelings time
So these hasty decisions catch up
When it's too late to change my mind
In forgotten days when your heart was better
Pleasant, simple, and unaware
Friendship quietly develops rust
Photographs more than eyes can bear
Broken glass, shattered hearts
It has all lead to this dead end
Perfectly synced self-destruction
Beautifully orchestrated lies descend
Peeking through darkness, cartwheeling midair
No stars left in our sky
The night alive with melancholy
Sorrowful birdsong in gusts low and high
My heart suspended in tragic beauty
Soul dies a little more every day
Waiting for eyelids to finally open to the light
Radiating from the glow of flames guiding the way
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 6:05 AM UTC
Making love to my poems
making memories that last forever,
come sit beside me and let
your words be mine forever,
Let's wipe away the tears
of yesteryears ,
modern words activates the sound of your voice
words of where are.. thou,
and thou shall ....is dead and buried.
Who are you ?
Where did you come from
My shining star
Forgive my grammar,
forgive my nouns
however, you can read between the lines
as you your hands slipped off the key board and onto my legs
and it became long verbs.
my uncontrollabe fingers nervously trace each pronouns
as I cried out "my God, "oh my Lord,
Come into me, come into me,
shield me from all the adjectives
I felt the couplets of a word forming
suddenly, my train of thoughts turn to L'Allegro
A Haiku comes together,
It is very cold
on the dark side of the moon
moon peeks through black clouds:
Or
like burning desires to perform an illusion
of tigers mating under in the hot sun
as the female purrs unleashing the animal within man
Music, ecstasy, is what I am feeling
I am blind my love,
you are so ******* kind to me,
Yesterday is dead
Tomorrow is promise to no one
so there's nothing to fear
hurt me with your words,
like alliterations as I make love to my poems
only my eyes can see your beauty
with each line, meter, tones and sounds
hiding your feelings from others is my destiny
to preserve you,
let your warmth be a challenge
of spoken words as I orchestrated
an euphony...
Duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh dun duh
"How do I love thee let me count the ways....Quote
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 7:25 PM UTC
in your vicinity,
i'm filled with corny questions like:
"what do you think of fate?"
if it is destined that we meet,
predetermined that we end up
as more than strangers,
more than friends,
then technically,
it doesn't matter
what i say
or prevent myself from saying,
these moments are orchestrated
by something greater,
if such a question elicits a groan,
then its the groan with which we'll start.
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 11:08 PM UTC