"outmost" poems
People's lives are like far away places
and all we can see are their faces
and faint traces and flashes
of their soul when it seeps through the cracks
because it crashes at it's outmost edges.
It's as though we nearly think
that their soul is what they do, but no
and neither is it who they claim to be, or show,
it is where they have been, and where they shall go.
We gasp for air, we grasp it there
that others must breathe too.
Somehow storms still shock us with their might,
somehow even when i dont want to, breathing feels right
Somehow i know that i was breathed to life
somehow sparks that set afire,
though they consumed all i was,
became small sprouts of life to spire,
from the hardest dirt i'd ever seen,
when i was the worst man I had ever been
they stalked my essence in the ashes,
saw through all of the smudges, scratches,
held me up to light and saw,
an image etched, demanding awe,
there it was, but with blurred edges,
the image of My god implanted,
seed within my soul to bear,
the harshest winds, the hottest air.
So, as above, so below
even stars search for somewhere to go
In me, i see my friend,
In my friends I see my end,
in my end i see beginning, so long as the earth is spinning,
and when finally it stops,
when we've all forgotten clocks,
then in heaven as on earth,
shall we know that all has worth,
and remember then shall we,
all the roots, of life, the tree.
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 1:25 AM UTC
Let's talk honestly shall we?
It's easier to have a face to face with the devil
To communicate with the dead and summon evil
Draw a circle, scratch a pentagram in the middle
With a flame dancing on the peak of a candle
Flickering at the outmost tips of the symbol
Sandle wood incent lit, hit a gong or crash symbol
Then a little rhythmic hum to conclude the opening ritual
Pretty simple
The theatrical aspect varies culture to culture
But the critical structure, the essence, the flavor
The nature of "just call and I'll be there" is there
Let's be honest here, you don't get that with prayer
You'd have better luck with a comatose soothsayer
A blind palm reader, or and end of days sandwich board holder
The one on the corner screaming about unspeakable horror
Just think about it
What do you got to do to talk to your lord and savior?
Is his policy open door?
Does he have your back while going through your personal war?
You're trying to survive the unjust life he made and you're in store for
He just stands back and tallies the score
"IF YOU WEREN'T GOING TO HELP THEN WHAT WERE THE EXTRA SET OF FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND FOR?!?"
This is straight from his written lore, though purposely vague on what's real and what's a metaphor
What are the odds you're right?
He designed you to never be able to directly interact,
Explain that
It's a wildly overlooked fact
Infact,
It's what knocks his believability off track
You look at him and you go blind as a bat,
Why would he do that?
His voice will cause your ears to bleed if your head doesn't explode on first contact
He didn't have to design it like that!
The only answered prayers are those of musicians, athletes and the beautiful people who can act
The rest of us? Good luck Jack
If he hears your prayers then most of the times he's just like, "naw, fuuck that."
What's up with that?
Pretty convenient
©2024
Feb 3, 2024
Feb 3, 2024 at 7:14 PM UTC
I met with your body but created you within me
An imagination a dream or a thought don't know
But She is better than you
As She is you but not yours
The shadow of yours which neither hurts nor loves
But always stands supports and a sense of joy it soaks
One which is most close to fill the emptiness of mine
But She haunts me when I see you
Since She looks afraid of you for her's existence
As lie can't be the truth and truth can't lie
The outmost clarity within me is yours doubt
And yours doubt is my clarity of living
As my sense is pervert and consciousness absurd
This is how, A shadow makes me complete
Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 5:29 AM UTC
In a silent night
conquers loud whispers of realisation
my soul seeks for answers
from the spirit with virile power
my mind’s cleansed
with visions as clear as the moon
I look to the skies
and my eyes are enlightened
by the free nature of meditation
I pierce my heart near the stars
and mend my consciousness
with breaths of patience and peace
(breathe in, breathe out)
I find closure and clarity
in the knowledge of the unknown
I’m outgrown by the outmost emotions
and creativity is my ultimate resurrection.
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 4:12 PM UTC
To a father who produced me but was never there,
To a mother who introduced me to a world that gave me fear,
To a father who raised and showed me the steps of life,
To a grandfather who gave me my first reason to be alive,
To a grandmother who gave me great knowledge,
To a cousin with a friendship of great privilege,
To a baby cousin who gave me peace at a glance,
To an uncle who brought me an ultimate chance,
To friends who taught me through heartbreaks,
And to friends who made me laugh through bad states,
Everyone I had met in my life has played their role
And I shall be thankful ‘til He claims my soul,
I have come from pain to worst
Yet I live my life to my outmost best
In exchange to give you my personal appreciation
To your support and tremendous contribution,
This is my first letter to you
Accept it as my way of saying Thank You…
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 9:30 AM UTC
An old boy's philosophy, ambles up
arrow in one hand,
strung bow in the other…
Aim at nothing,
you cannot miss.
I watch this idea, nothing more, no thing,
a thought…
nock the shaft, draw back the bow,
but
not as I expected, not
as I saw ahead, not
aiming at the skies, outmost limit…
no,
this arrow aimed at me.
Or was it you?
Mustabin you, or nothing, as intended,
I was aiming at nothing,
to prove I could still hit it as easily as once,
when I was young,
and at the brink… of next, laughing
Mar 20, 2021
Mar 20, 2021 at 3:11 PM UTC
Into the dark of the night when our minds cruises through the infinite ebb of reality. We rise through the stellar heights feel the krypton energy activate, and evaporate through the outmost core causing a spectrum of fluorescent lights to radiate through the cosmic spheres.
© Sonia Ettyang
Aug 13, 2019
Aug 13, 2019 at 2:45 PM UTC
I picked a flower near the sidewalk.
Placed it on her hair, with outmost care.
I told her, never listen to all of them.
My pretty dear, reject your fear.
The next day, I picked another flower.
Pinned it in her chest, where it looks best.
I told her, be brave my angel.
You may fall down, but don't ever frown.
I stringed some flowers.
A pretty necklace, giving her such grace.
I told her, you are my precious.
Head up high, not letting out a sigh.
And one day, I picked a flower.
Placed it on grave, the last one I gave.
You are now in heaven, my love.
I promise you I'll try, I won't ever cry.
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 7:09 AM UTC
We were definitely something
We are this unlabeled and undefined mess
We had a relationship worth dreaming
There was no 'us' but we had realness
What we had was called almost
We shared what people desire
We tried to last with our outmost
But distance extinguished the fire
We had what some envied
We were perfectly unlabeled and unknown
We were bulletproof but we still bleed
I wasn't yours and I couldn't call you my own
What do I call you, how do I explain us?
You're my ex something, my ex almost, my ex unstable
My ex unnamed, my ex unknown, my ex anonymous
To put it simply, since we are undefined, you are my "x variable"
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 8:20 AM UTC
With a disgusting smile on his face, he looked at me.
I never really knew what he was trying to achieve.
His green cat eyes would receive my outmost attention.
I don’t know why, a bunch of stereotype computer nerds.
All he was after, was meaning.
He would bark information into a template of non existence.
And it would, never, arrive.
Worried and disappointed his nights would end up being blank thoughts.
Which would have its affect on the next day.
And the next day, another useless undocumented 24 hours of his life.
Was there really a reason to all of it?
When at the end of the day, no one knows.
No one will have seen the sacrifice, the infinite loyalty.
Really, they only see it when your dead.
And once that has happened, they give you some small medal,
Which looked like the one I got in a pre school swimming race.
It all felt like it didn't matter.
Love, passion, sacrifice, endless days of hopeless trying, but for what?
When one day you will die, who will care that you once dared to say you were gay?
Who will care that one day you spared an arm for a friend.
I’ll tell you who’ll care Alan.
No-one.
But you gotta deal with it.
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 1:32 PM UTC
Out blossoms the fractal of endless colors..
Inmost to the outmost reach of the oblivion and creation thoughts..
The convolution gyre where your thought first formed..
A helix of fragments that turn into a memory..
A memory where I remember you from a dream..
May 31, 2019
May 31, 2019 at 12:56 PM UTC
Sometimes, when night is quite; air was cold
I lay in my bed, lonely st in my head
Thinking things I can't comprehend
Anxiety, Scars, is it Insomia?
Remembering that line, echoing
"It's gonna be okay, I'm right here"
Am I really gonna be okay? I doubt
But I believe to th Voices, no question
"YOU CAN STAY", that's what you'll say
As as long as you want, even when you
Grow Up
Keeping me warm with the big hugs
Cover me, especially in my Silent Cry
In the end I know I will be okay
with The View you showed me the first time
we met
Dainty feelings start to grow, I know it's an assurance
That in my Broken Compass, there is a You
to bring me on track
"Stay" we always say
With your outmost care, you really make me stay
Sep 3, 2025
Sep 3, 2025 at 12:03 PM UTC
Crossing lines
Feeling empty, not happy
Not a Trophy!
At the end.
Mindset bend
Any sense lost
Over pain outmost
Love should be a victory
Now a lost memory..
Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 6:48 AM UTC
I mistaken you
as a shelter
of withering petals
you put them up the ground
caressing each and every one
just to lay all of them
on top of your rotting bed
I mistaken you
as a sovereign
of kingdom come
sit on the polished throne
presented with a crown
only to be unveiled
upon your counterfeit
I mistaken you
as genuine devotion
a failure to perceive
your caress and throne
was only as shallow
as your devilish lust
and your outmost pride
Aug 25, 2019
Aug 25, 2019 at 11:36 AM UTC
Love is a mixture of colors that do not complement
A healthy combination of things that can possibly be
A fusion of attitudes that differ
A beautiful blend of features
That longs to be alive again
It is an artwork made up of broken pieces brought together to recreate
That feeling that was kept and frequently rejected.
Blended well enough to make it feel more alive than it ever was
Carefully. Gradually. Passionately.
It is a stated fact that when these individual attitudes and emotions are well blended, it'll yearn ends
Therefore you savor every moment while taking the roads with harmonious feelings
Trying to travel the path taken by many and hoping that you'll be out with the outmost success
So you walk with burning passion until the end
Yet like the others who've taken the path, you end up with the same plot twist
Someone faded so quick
Faster than the bolt of lightning
Leaving you in the middle of everything.
Leaving the other bright as before
Leaving the other to finish the road they started together
To finish that something harder than building that road's reputation
Why let colors once so bright fade
And leave the other to continue in such a dismay
And expect that you could be okay?
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 8:21 AM UTC
Only I have words left
I will come again to this world...right now ... I am completely in messed up state of mind...like a broken brain
I am starving, my voice is low now
Even I can't say...I am in locked doors...only I see a sun for few minutes rest time I sleep just for another possibilities
Under the imagination
Darkness kissed
I will let you know everything...
when the right time strike my brain fusion of supernova...
and
I will be out from my own Bermuda triangle
I am sinking in bottomless abyss
I will let you know...once I know,I don't know,where should I go,three roads diverged in the foresty woods...and I thought of going in one lane, but I reverse back with fear...and that was a wrong turn
Imagination of darkness
Kissed with lights out
...
Even the dreams
Walking away
...
Like a electrons in outmost shells
With zero affinity
And
Floating freeless
...
Under zero gravity
...
Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 3:39 PM UTC