"outpour" poems
Lick the words
from my lips
let them slide down
your throat
like fruited jewels,
dark, hard candies
that melt into cream
a healing liquid
oozing into my
ventricles,
pumping milky beats
out through
your cells
permeating the deep
of my wild
My syllables will
wrap themselves
around your syntax
frothy hybrids
of buttered silk
and irony
heart-to-heart
conversations that
flow into the ether,
as heaven's night
endlessly begins
We twirl our tongues
into guttural utterings,
lustful verse
that glides from
slick-fervored ice
to an outpour
of lava
We feed each other
dreams
our saliva like honey
dripping with dawn's
tender glow
as we open up
like baby birds,
begging to be nourished
at all costs
Here,
in this lingual forest
Your breath finds a home
on my tastebuds,
my tongue
in your
cheek
In between the tumults
of our
exploding oceans
This
is how we
love
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 5:25 PM UTC
I.
Hear the sledges with the bells—
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they ****** ****** ******
In their icy air of night!
While the stars, that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells—
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
II.
Hear the mellow wedding bells,
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight!
From the molten golden-notes,
And all in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
On the moon!
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
How it swells!
How it dwells
On the future! how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells—
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!
III.
Hear the loud alarum bells—
Brazen bells!
What a tale of terror now their turbulency tells!
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out their affright!
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor
Now—now to sit or never,
By the side of the pale-faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells!
What a tale their terror tells
Of Despair!
How they clang, and clash, and roar!
What a horror they outpour
On the ***** of the palpitating air!
Yet the ear it fully knows,
By the twanging,
And the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows;
Yet the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling,
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells—
Of the bells—
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells—
In the clamor and the clangor of the bells!
IV.
Hear the tolling of the bells—
Iron bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In the silence of the night,
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy menace of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a groan.
And the people—ah, the people—
They that dwell up in the steeple.
All alone,
And who toiling, toiling, toiling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone—
They are neither man nor woman—
They are neither brute nor human—
They are Ghouls:
And their king it is who tolls;
And he rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls
A paean from the bells!
And his merry ***** swells
With the paean of the bells!
And he dances, and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the paean of the bells—
Of the bells:
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells—
Of the bells, bells, bells—
To the sobbing of the bells;
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells—
Of the bells, bells, bells—
To the tolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells—
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.
10.5k
O lonely parrot
It’s such a pity
You’re perched on a wire
High above the city!
The forest was so green parrot
The forest was so neat
Why did you have to leave it
For the urban dust and heat!
O lonely parrot
It’s such a pity
You abandoned the forest
To dwell in the city!
So warm was your nest
With choicest foods galore
A wonderful hole for rest
And singing heart’s outpour!
O lonely parrot
It’s such a pity
Leaving the peace of forest
You prefer to be in the city!
The songs were so soulful there
The melodies so sweet
Your heart you could fully bare
To your throb you could tweet!
O lonely parrot
It’s such a pity
You can be caught and caged
In this heartless city!
So parrot make haste
To recover all you miss
Go back to the forest
Your own abode of peace!
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 7:27 AM UTC
I'm trending love.
I'm trending hate.
I'm trending the fact that you always reply a little too late.
I'm telling you that you are less than enough.
And when you **** me, its a little too rough.
Pounding away like you're shooting a gun.
All too soon.
I never come.
Too pretty to make you feel let down.
Fake it always, you're the shittest rodeo clown.
Take off your ****** face.
Eat me wide, go on, give me a taste.
Sink your teeth into my bare flesh,
feel my history in my blood
seek me out in all my mess.
I am showing you darling
in my very sweet tones
that my succinct naivety is nothing more,
than what you want from your white ash bones.
I am trending you
I am trending your ****
I am trending the look you wear
and the music you rock.
I am seeking a feeling more than text, a wink or smiley face.
Look, At, ME.
Am i that easy to replace?
Bitterness is found in the sweetest pill
i'll bend your *** i'll bend you over,
I'll **** you at will.
I will move my trend towards your neck
outpour my lack of interest in your ear,
tell you what it is you want to hear.
**** you, and **** your nation.
**** your distinctive'taste',
and your senseless judgement and interrogation.
I am not some sweet-ass-fuck-drive-by-shooter-girl,
I have ******* brains,
I am seconds away from tearing apart your world.
I am living safely from behind my defensive line of white hair,
**** that **** i don't want closeness
rip my clothes off, don't leave till i'm wanton and bare.
Oh and i am trending your messages
I am trending all of you.
I am not trending depression, ****** up or feeling blue.
I am trending love, trending the great divide.
I made it through and over, to the other side.
I am not what you will ever believe me to be
a glimmer, of a hint, in a riddle, is all you will see.
I am trending what is insane, and what is not,
I am thinking, your thinking of,
'what the **** has this girl got?'
I am not here to make you laugh, or for you to wish for more,
I am here to be left broken and wet,
on your kitchen floor.
I am trending honest, i am trending passion and life,
I am trending a big fat ****** smile,
Because I am not your possession or your future wife.
I am not trending your **** size, or your 16 positions in one night,
I don't want you to cry on my shoulder
I am not trending 'your mother', i have earnt that right.
Look, At. ME.
Second chances rarely come as few
and when i walk away, i will walk away with a taste of you.
I am sweetness, i am luxury divine,
make me bite you, scratch your back, forget the time.
But at my cost, at my control, this will be,
you are not my attachment,
my soul is not your key.
I am trending love, i am trending ME
for what is locked within, is never for free.
****
Me.
What a trend
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 5:50 PM UTC
applying his
lingual buds
to the smooth
lush of her
thighs she rippled
as a lava lake,
no stone skipped
just
melting milk, lapped up
in hungry pulses
cream of silk
pounding thunder
in consonants of
taut skin drum
nuances in vowels
uttered in
animal dissonance
his bristled breath
all over her
fingers
salivary intentions
over rim of lip
feeding the emptiness,
a holy vessel
more ancient than
before time
now ready
to be filled by the
essence of feminine
pineapple juice drizzling
firebud glistening
in fuchsia exposure
open gateway
to divine outpour
a sacrificial altar
of unmasked psyche
completely stripped of
any pellicle
his palms firmly
planted in hot muscle
thumbs parting
glory's hole
deer at the saltlick
lost in the velvet
just pour it in
thick molasses
not stifling,
only honeyed bark
multi-hued like
eucalyptus deglupta
in buttery tips
dripping love,
all over her lips
and just like that, in
slick-painted dabs
of their own
acrylic-drip art
just like that
in the wild
and thick
explodes the ache
of her
ripped
apart
heart
Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 7:09 PM UTC
an outpour of you,
Creativity, the bird
who lives inside me
and sometimes devours me
but sometimes leaves me helpless.
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 12:24 AM UTC
The cold distance between two hearts,
Once beating simultaneously, in unison -
A small disconnection,
A simple malfunction,
Unforeseen miscommunication amidst unvanquished certainty -
Muzzled, tightened grip,
Cloaking an angst shell of a body,
Harvesting repressed emotions,
Alluring a passive tongue -
Releasing an outpour of an outcry in an outburst,
Retribution -
Freedom released from with-in,
Healing of a contorted soul...
Commence.
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 1:58 AM UTC
in moonlight whispers love fills my heart
and glass with wine, and magnifies
my soul to tenderness.
the biting, scraping, lustful pining
for distant and abhorrent truth
is solace in place of reality.
a reality where we address the trauma
of unkind childhoods, bloodied knees,
and chipped teeth.
misunderstandings that follow the gap
in a shortness of breath before an apology.
that remind you that your thoughts
can only love if you do.
and years later you will have some drunken
outpour that darkens the moonlight
and comfort, but makes way
to some otherworldly dawn beyond
the you that reads this now.
Jul 25, 2023
Jul 25, 2023 at 5:10 AM UTC
An intensity of a thought, and the intimacy of feeling produce the sound,
The announcement, immediate and incomplete, but monumental -
The outpour of falling words, running from my mouth like water droplets from the clouds…
A leap towards faith and freedom, towards the excitement of uncertainty -
Experiencing a brief moment of weightless resilience,
Strong, proud and fearless…
Fiercely crashing into their destination without restraint,
Saturating the contents,
Slowly falling, seeping down further –
Layer…
Upon layer…
Hopefully finding welcome,
Hopefully finding reciprocation.
It starts with an intensity of a thought, and the intimacy of feeling to produce the sound...
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 1:34 AM UTC
The television screen illuminates
the mahogany walls of His Holiness’ office
so different and distant from Marta’s casa in Iguazu,
Argentina, her handwriting in Spanish,
pleading the Holy Father from cheap paper,
to return and attend to his people.
On the screen, he sees the Garganta del Diablo
exploding in what the headline calls
‘Biblical-style’ deluge.
But He knows that the devil’s throat
spills out a more subtle evil than flooding:
a secret hatred,
disjointed humanity,
greed and gluttony
and outpour of passion of futbol
rather than prayer.
My child, he writes,
these falls bless the earth--
only God causes the floodgates to open
and only together do we feel holy presence
in the river’s spray.
He licks his finger, turns over the page,
and decides he needs not write more, besides
Que Dios bendiga a tí y a Argentina.
As the television flashes scenes of his pueblo y futbol.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC
Words dived inside my mind. Emotions flow in rhythmic waves
as diluted thoughts
submerging the pages and verses drenched in melodic verse.
Passion outpour
Submerged myself drowned in inspiration.
As I drift into a lyrical sea and ink drips from my pen.
#RitzWrites
Sep 1, 2021
Sep 1, 2021 at 3:09 PM UTC
Unleashing spirits,
fighting precariously,
protect the untouched.
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 10:35 PM UTC
in moonlight whispers love fills my heart
and glass with wine, and magnifies
my soul to tenderness.
the biting, scraping, lustful pining
for distant and abhorrent truth
is solace in place of reality.
a reality where we address the trauma
of unkind childhoods, bloodied knees,
and chipped teeth.
misunderstandings that follow the gap
in a shortness of breath before an apology.
that remind you that your thoughts
can only love if you do.
and years later you will have some drunken
outpour that darkens the moonlight
and comfort, but makes way
to some otherworldly dawn beyond
the you that reads this now.
Nov 4, 2023
Nov 4, 2023 at 1:38 AM UTC
The big bang was your conception.
The expansion of nutritive gases and stars
filled the womb of your pregnant mother.
As barely an earthed fetus, you seemed an animal.
As a newborn, you grew primitively, slowly rose.
Enlightenment when you came of age
to discover yourself human.
Now, in your Twenty-First, the century
of drugged science, you live like a half-god
in ever-questioning evolved reversion,
in a contradictory asylum of paralyzing speed,
rising steep to its ringed peak funneling fumes
that revive the smell of your instincts, primal and fiery.
Then, in one final breath, in the outpour
on volcano’s point, melting and bursting
in radial gasps once again, will come your death
in a matter of ours, the eschaton, a new bang
desired and conceived anew, so that in rebirth
will be your survival, in rebirth our continuity.
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 7:35 PM UTC
I have passed through
The narrow canyons of cerebrum
While listening odes of mature cells
Vibrating slowly
And a fresh Pine resin, Oak moss and fresh Ozone winded my hairs
Inside my nose
Plugged my alveolus ready to burst of indescribable pleasure
I’ve heard sounds of sprinkling blood
From my wounded feet
Leaving blueprint of the thirsty soul…
For
Knowledge, Wisdom and Enlightenment
That slowly bows in a front of God
Only by us called LOVE
In an emerald macadam to show the path
To the following procession of creatures
From all Gurdijeffian Octaves
Which as a golden fig are blossoming from within?
You may call me outpour of passion
And you’ll not be mistaken
You may call me lanolin extracted from merino
And you’ll not be mistaken
You may call me a broken porcelain soldier
And you’ll not be mistaken
You may call me a bee that soaks the nectar from
thousands of roses
And you’ll not be mistaken
You may call me a yellow topaz
A child of carbon
And you’ll not be mistaken
You may call me a felt petal of the white rose
And you’ll not be mistaken
You may call me believer who prays for the sins
of human multitude
And you’ll not be mistaken
You may even call me human that mix with angels
unaware of his innocence
And you’ll not be mistaken
But I know
I know spirit does not have a gender
The wind misses the color
The grass is painted green by transparent rain
Alchemy is a transformation of mother’s milk into blood
Heaven is nature and man is Hell
But the Mother is God in Heaven and Earth
Thus I’m hardly a human.
Apr 18, 2012
Apr 18, 2012 at 7:43 AM UTC
The tide and her wave of emotion.
The hands that once held me now goes for
the jugular, to cut.
The swift, rough swipe of the
razor causes an outpour of unstoppable feelings,
fleeting forth from my face,
It lands upon an infant that lay
crying in my right hand,
screaming, it yearns for the breast of
knowledge and safety,
The craving for intimacy and affection,
The Insuppressible,
Indistinguishable,
Need for Want,
And Want for Need, all the same.
Mar 26, 2018
Mar 26, 2018 at 6:19 PM UTC
Internal winds that wail with might
A sudden outpour of downpour
Distress accelerating
Into regions physical and mental
Untangling its hair of horrors
So that miniature hells hail
And free will and free thought,
Take the brunt of the damage
Now paralysis is peppered over all
But with one sneeze vigor is awakened
So see all is interlinked
For natural disaster
And natural remedy
Are naturally destined to occur
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 6:05 PM UTC
Starting with Dear,
no starting with Sweetheart,
no starting with Hello or maybe just your name,
I love you, didn't you know?
I try so hard to tell you but you'll never read about it;
the secrets are in
love letters I'll never send.
I read them over and over again.
Sentiments like remember when and I'll always begin the outpour of my undying emotion,
my confusion; my heart.
I am forever yours and always I will dream of your face. I believe in love, in sacred,
unadulterated, three fold chords that last beyond
and through the impossible.
My divine love, you hold it, you are my longing.
Until my fingers grow old, until my dying day,
you will be the only recipient
of the love letters I'll never send.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 2:11 AM UTC
This current state of being,
A byproduct of my upbringing,
To a shred of sanity I'm clinging.
I'm condemned, I am ******
It's not like this was planned.
Those pesky chemicals are a torrential rain,
Carried 'round by cerebrospinal fluid in the brain,
Are unbalanced, unregulated. I am agitated.
Emotions now unchained.
The feelings I suppressed
Now a hysterical, pathetic, crying mess
This silent monster is cunning and bold
Has defiantly stepped over my mental threshold
The more I try to ignore
The more intense the outpour
The heart drops into the stomach,
Unpleasant pulsating in my ear canal
I tremble uncontrollably
I obsess over thoughts until they nauseate me
Down a rabbit hole I'm going
Due to insufficient dopamine and serotonin
The ideas of inadequacy and failure are growing
As logical a girl I am
To these irrational thoughts I am ******
I attempt to talk myself out of it
But my reasoning just won't fit
No matter how hard I try
I cannot find a reason why...
At this point my heart is racing
From the epinephrine rush, I am pacing
Back and forth across the floor
In and out the bedroom door
You have no idea how happy I'd be
To have a life of "normalcy"
No matter how much I plead and plead
This quiet monster won't take its leave
At my wit's end, my sanity's gone,
I'm all out of my Buproprion.
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 2:56 PM UTC
even the dullest of knives
can **** —
a smile has fallen deep into
the silence.
wincing on and off
like terrible vertigo.
it is you lashing across
dispersing images
seeping like ruthless mileage
underneath the bone.
you come in the room
full of these hours splintered
an outpour with a foreboding,
like spindrift you wet my lips
sealed shut and silence
is all the language i understand.
what good is there that this hungry
cavalcade gapes its mouth
and metastasizes like an opulent
laugh as maniacal as drum-taps?
your are river with feet or pond
sprawling mad, enigmatical.
is this the clearing motes depart,
unhinging the crepuscular
and fade out, as a cat shrieks tumbling writhing fornication of metal and rust?
even sleep cannot manage such realness,
and the doubleness of its comatose
or say, a war in spite of its radical
artillery. between two cities lost,
its indefatigable exertion pullulates
to a hand, laying garlands
over the same blue lament of sky
and the unawakened orioles.
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 6:03 AM UTC
Fired it, desired it,
Put you in your place
Riot, don’t fight it,
A punch to the face
Movement, you blew it,
Your mind in outer space
Write it, defy it,
Rattled in cage
Flaunt it, report it,
On the front page
Deny it, provide it,
With minimum wage
Correct it, deflect it,
An outpour of rage
Plan it, contain it,
My life’s rearranged
Confront it, restore it,
The best way to gage
Mask it, enhance it,
Act out on stage
Collect it, pretend it,
Coming of age
Own it, disown it,
Become disengaged
Force it, explore it,
In need of some change.
Mend it, ignore it,
That’s not how I was raised
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 2:45 AM UTC
I wonder why I withheld it the story was overdue
Summers back I wrote for her from heart ‘I love you’
I see those days of careless time her face still girlish bright
A boy’s heart she took away left him some wakeful nights
Petals blew away with the wind that must have stolen her sight
The girl I knew once playmate she knew how to fly a kite
She frolicked around in a polka dot skirt a prancing butterfly
Babbled in joy clapped in glee as her string spread to the sky
I watched in awe her graceful hands way she pulled the string
Wrote her name many a time about love I knew nothing
A girl so cute so full of life so loving and carefree
I dipped my mind deep in her nothing else it could be
The daring girl I held in stare trapped my eyes like a star
Those afternoons would be cruelly void lifeless without her
Once alone on the wall of attic I inscribed it with my nail
No other way to relieve my mind couldn’t write her a mail
Those three words on the mossy wall for times there they stood
My heart’s outpour carved in bold if only they remained for good
Next afternoon at the rooftop to me she looked anew
My knees went weak I knew alone the mystery of ‘I love you’
None broke the lull as she pointed the wall her face red with rage
Her probing eyes rolled on the faces till they held me in their gaze
‘It cannot be you I’m sure I exclude you from suspicion’
If only she knew the little boy’s mind secrets of his emotion
A few years thence I went back to that house to see if it still was there
Those candid three words from a timid boy laying his child’s heart bare
The house was gone so was the roof in its place stood an apartment new
None would ever know the girl never knew I wrote her from heart ‘I love you’
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 7:38 AM UTC
The blinding truth that you hide effortlessly
The opaque mask that shields your reputation
For don’t walk the streets aimlessly
Evaluating the lines of communication
For a sponge will only soak up so much hurt
Before its contents unfold upon the sky
As your exhaust fumes cause stars to divert
Banishing dreams that you so wish to stay dry
So rate not your heartache on a league table
For numbers do not correlate with emotions
Instead give these incurable aches a label
A devotion that drives your heart into motion.
Feb 21, 2011
Feb 21, 2011 at 2:12 PM UTC
The barrel filled with ink spill on the sheet
Pulsate in joy dance to heartbeat
They dry up quick but not before
Sealing on paper all heart’s outpour.
Some are dark some pretty faced
Some orderly some badly messed
They fiercely battle none would be less
To touch your mind and find there a place.
Knowing too well impress they must
The fractional time for which they last
Freeze it chill or warm it hot
Smiles, tears, emotions, what not,
Doing it all the best way they can
Before fading out in their brief lifespan.
The barrel is full spilling on the sheet
Day in and out in ceaseless beat
Knocking time again on your door
Pleading you to listen to the heart’s outpour.
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 2:22 AM UTC