"outpours" poems
**via woodland trail, along deciduous dale
amid a rocky terrain, through geographic chicane
meandrous no longer, smoky waters beleaguered
upwelling they burble, in deep tracts they gurgle
hypnotic they swirl, then turgidly whorl
the rivers egress, from caverns sub-aqueous
bereft of surrender, outpours now in splendour
the Wharfe expelled from the strid.
... ... ...**
Jun 20, 2012
Jun 20, 2012 at 12:26 PM UTC
The Hebrew King David sings it once
everyone tunes in as if he stopped the time
it's a song sang in every mother tongue!
It's a sea of tunes flows on the shore of the body
outpours and dances fashioning in both science and art
waxes through every vein and reaches out to the heart.
Folks love to take a dip in this same mellifluent cloud
but it's as varied as all the different mother tongues,
the one rhymes with all floats across the world.
Over all the different rivers that may zigzag
It knows the way because from the ocean they all come.
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 6:59 PM UTC
a princess locked up high
guarding close by is a mighty dragon
imagine what a knight might do
risking his life to protect you
armor is shiny and silver
his bravery thrilled her
spurring his horse
the dragon's skin is coarse
as he swings his sword
out poured blood
there was a loud thud
he shrugged, tongue-in-cheek
the knight does it again
as if it's been done before
oh what love they have in store
outpours his deep affection
they are in the right direction
Mar 31, 2025
Mar 31, 2025 at 4:15 AM UTC
What will happen when is over?
Are you ready to crash hard?
We have soared each day much higher
So much harder we will fall.
The sky’s so much blue in heaven
Grass is greener than before
I can see but endless rainbows
From the outpours of your love
Sky’s bound to fall up on us
Sending us to pits of hell
Love’s not meant to last for longer
And this romance will be quelled.
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 1:46 PM UTC
There’s only a dew of elixir in the bottom of the empty cup sleeping as lamb
Now they call it heart, I call it polluted spirit, and you may call it ruby pomegranate granules
But we the simplest so called human entities jointly may only Love and this is sufficient
To suffer for the thousand years and a day more
The one who cares not is the luckiest mundane ignorant but I’m the one alike who outpours his quintessential not knowing for whom
Not knowing for what reason a purpose never show its glamour in advance
For warning, for love or even for sake of its purest manifestation
In times when words were queued in the thread abundantly curved in bobbin from the human scalp
The necklace of verse is fading its shine no sparkling truths gurgles from its spring to obey our thirsts
We the thirsty souls for divine morsel wandering in here as the spirits of suicide victims
Empty stomachs of enfant terrible only for the grasp of the truth they never hear even as the sound of insect
Never as the sound of falling frozen spirit in jade that you may later see as the Galatea of divine maternal essence
A cornucopia of latent blessings waits
A deficit of Love outbursts proudly displaying its genitalia without a drop of shame
I wander as a working bee searching for the nectar of wisdom to feed my Queen bee
And bestow her eternal life with the royal jelly leaking elegantly from the bottom to the navel
Apr 18, 2012
Apr 18, 2012 at 7:35 AM UTC
through the snow
through the sleet
the hail the fog the wind,
outpours the stack
of choke- worthy smoke.
beneath,
the tug boat
with nothing to haul.
forcing and
chugging with it's head down
through the black
syrupy waters.
using only the friendly stars
as a guide
(when they're not covered by the passing hurricane)
the boat
or small ship
pushes north
toward something
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 6:13 PM UTC
It’s not that I only love the characteristics of you that are red.
It’s just that, when parts of you become red,
(whether by irritation
blooming of heat beneath your cheeks
the volcanic activity of
separated skin
friction or
swelling, scratching,
pressure, sunlight,
chemical combinations of emotional magma and
exquisite outpours of liquid, stone flesh.)
Yes,
I see then, when you are red,
that your heart beats
much like
mine.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 8:27 PM UTC
Spindly supports elevate
Its be speckled body while thread
Outpours from the spiders portly
Frame. Swarms of prey
Bolt as the spider moves
Lethargically, still full from
Its earlier meal.
Thread ensnares the
Frangible flies in their
Cowering conglomeration.
One by one they are
Picked like daisies
On a school field,
Leaving the spider to sit
Back, content with his
Play for the day.
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 12:53 PM UTC
Grey and vast, it comes to me
The darkness of the flowing sea
Strong as storm, hard as stone
Dark as midnight, white as bone
The end of all, the finite shore
Gives birth to salty desert swells
Infinite as breathing sky
Earthbound as the turn of years
It screams, it scorns, its wrath outpours
It cradles, soothes, and lends a home
It is the end of all that was
It is the birth of something gone.
Ancient years mar not the deep;
Waves drown human sentiment
Flashing, pouring, burning tides
Know not peace or lenience
As sea aches for the shore, my love
So I reach evermore for you
Shroud of infinity, beware;
You fall short of the human soul.
For the eternal, I will strive
For the gold I've buried there
Across paths of the shining sea
I will return, and find You there.
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 9:22 PM UTC
It seems a silly, foolish thing: obscure
abstracted expectations heeded sure.
However, comfort found or shred in thread,
defiance! Liberation for the dead
to overthrow, reject, deny decrees
imposed from fears that freedom means disease.
Because it chokes, barbed-wire laceration
began with shouts of divine damnation,
outpours a strangled, blood-laced river with
no end—laws unaware of gender’s myth.
To them, I am a thing one can acquire.
Behind eyes worn, I tire— Oh! How I tire
of worth and value foisted most unjust.
Disgust conceals (reveals) clandestine lust;
they loved (and also often hated) me
for what I am and what I never will be.
Nov 14, 2020
Nov 14, 2020 at 2:57 PM UTC
It shakes me to the core
This breathtaking desire
Passion never felt before
I never thought to soar
On this feeling you inspire
It shakes me to the core
I crave it all the more
As it sets my soul on fire
Passion never felt before
Electricity outpours
Fingers touching this live wire
It shakes me to the core
A ****** rapport
That cannot be acquired
Passion never felt before
And as we explore
I set my heart upon the pyre
It shakes me to the core
Passion never felt before
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 2:09 PM UTC
It’s not that I only love the characteristics of you that are red.
It’s just that, when parts of you become red,
(whether by irritation
blooming of heat beneath your cheeks
the volcanic activity of
separated skin
friction or
swelling, scratching,
pressure, sunlight,
chemical combinations of emotional magma and
exquisite outpours of liquid, stone flesh.)
Yes,
I see then, when you are red,
that your heart beats
much like
mine.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 8:27 PM UTC
It’s not that I only love the characteristics of you that are red.
It’s just that, when parts of you become red,
(whether by irritation
blooming of heat beneath your cheeks
the volcanic activity of
separated skin
friction or
swelling, scratching,
pressure, sunlight,
chemical combinations of emotional magma and
exquisite outpours of liquid, stone flesh.)
Yes,
I see then, when you are red,
that your heart beats
much like
mine.
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 8:27 PM UTC
I stare inside an empty chest
Where used to, there be such a mess
Panic, fear, urgent anxiety
To certain varieties of these drugs
I make a toast to my sobriety
A right of passage,
Was my consumption.
What I chose to do
How I chose to function
My takings of nothing and making them something
Are nowhere to be found,
Except away from me, running
What’s gone is gone
What’s mine is mine
What’s outdated and failed
For it, there’s no time
No rhyme or reason
No proper season
No excuses
Now, we’re even
This heart shaped box
Was in disguise
Though it told truths,
Now they are lies.
Truth is subjective
It’s all about time.
Mine has now changed,
How sublime!
Full of love,
Not driven by it.
No reckless outpours,
I keep it quiet.
And in my mind,
Rather than a riot,
The fog is cleared.
I’m glad I tried it.
Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 5:21 PM UTC
In my mind you are alive,
Playing the lead in my fantasies,
Corroding my senses with outpours of do’mine,
drenching my essence then doing it all over again.
In my mind you are alive,
casually laying claim to each vessel of my being.
Traveling,
Rooting,
Growing,
A fruitless tree you are,
Forever rooted, never sweet.
In my mind you are alive,
Able to contain as many blows sent your way,
Strong, level-headed and calm; so sure.
I am skeptical, pensive and critical; What a perfect match, no?
Dec 31, 2020
Dec 31, 2020 at 10:41 PM UTC
Dappled sweat, bile, snot, the quick
Boiled then burst. A flushed anemic,
My body nothing but a seam.
Rag slopped, sodden shot to wick,
Smeared the table thick with sheen,
Rutting reek on things pristine.
Outpours the raw and unhygenic -
Perfection is this bowl swabbed clean.
Sep 2, 2019
Sep 2, 2019 at 2:21 PM UTC
I am just a voice,
a name you can't remember,
an easy choice,
to dismember,
my vital *****
for I am nothing more than,
a crazed fan,
this unnamed man,
that sits and waits,
for some recognition,
filled with fear and hate,
at his position,
caught in lust,
what love was before,
has turned to rust,
nothing more,
a tainted chalice,
which I still drink from,
our empty palace,
that we built upon,
the ruins of a relationship,
the hands that loosen grip,
that held so tightly,
the soft words spoken nightly,
from my heart outpours,
for this lost cause,
not in action,
more like fiction,
a romantic novel,
buried with a shovel,
in my hearts coffin,
so all thats left is,
fear, failure and nothing.
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 7:26 PM UTC