"overflown" poems
Four leaf clovers birthing books
Your old horses came and took
Your father back into your life
Leading sobriety through letting go
A year with no sips has come to show
The truth to these words we step
I think grass is next on the list
Back and forth we're in the mist
It's hard to give up this smokey bliss
Talk of future business I know I'm yours
Our past should show the similarities
Your treatment should show our differences
We dabble and dart and laugh away
Overflown with tears we laugh today
**** our faults we'll be okay
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 5:35 PM UTC
Echo, cricket,
Thump, stump.
The very loud things
Galloping through the silence.
The creaking of stairs like the breaking of bones
That snapped tin cap,
Clinging onto the prophesied labor of your last breath,
Oscillating through your liquefied ontology.
Ethanol overflown and embodied.
Cricket cricket,
The underlying intrinsic.
The empty tone of a distant voice.
The spaces of letters and words so magnified
So wide,
Expanding like an unstoppable void.
Oh my,
Here it comes,
Shadowed by your hissing tongue.
You are glittered,
Pinnacle bitter.
Cloaked in pure white.
Not a thread of disguise.
Twinkle, twinkle,
Buggy, rugged eye.
Those razor touched lines,
Translucent and caressed,
Reminiscent and enmeshed,
Like faded pale stripes,
Hugging the armor of canvas flesh.
Walking among these thin lines,
Head down, musky powdered stench,
Awaiting the inevitable rise and fall.
Of the intangible crux of a hollow memory,
Woven inside the synthetic fabric of the undelivered.
Oceanic cold shiver,
Piercing through our empty, untethered souls.
Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 11:32 PM UTC
Zara, love of life,
Spake in curtled call
Allfather, lover of light,
To bestow those "ants of the earth"
And arch-bound as the sinew of bowstrings
Howling as the volley hertz roped
Along the celestial violin
Pluck souls from their bodies
In symphonic prediction
Ascende! On the wings of love's Valkyrie-- in her shining eyes will you greet the stars of the Otherworld!
___________________________
Cleaning hide chunks from Buffalo tusks
There is a stranger, who knocks upon my door
The fire is wide and welcoming,
Borea chides the earthenwork
Outside, the stranger calls
distant through the door.
____________________________________
A last heartsong,
The cup overflown with honey
A facsimile of symmetry
And not distinctly human
There was something to love in that,
Just the simple inclusion
Of all the other animus
Being formed in their conclusions
And following the arrowpoint
Floating by the bolt
What losses there to seek
Beyond a veiled humanity
We strike the fire one last time,
She to travel the mountain passes
Ashen eyes, holding viscous memories solidified
I to gather my quills
My thoughts and brush quickly the embers of love.
Into flame, carried deep into the hearts of the world and explored in violent disassociate
Particles red and hot
Then would Zara Spake again,
"with his eyes on the earth, will he never see but the stars."
Feb 6, 2019
Feb 6, 2019 at 12:42 PM UTC
Little conversation as we start,
In a freezy night in a moon full of stars.
Time fast ticking seems slow we don't mind,
As changing thoughts crossing through our minds.
A whole night spent,
As likes, dislikes, opinions have been shared.
Never clear what it has meant,
Of a feeling that's destiny had been lit.
A day or two had flown,
As second meeting had been drawn.
Reddish cheeks had been worn,
Which smiles last and heart freed from thorns.
Never it has longed where love was born,
Laughter's overflown and sprinkled to a new morn.
That sparkling eyes mirrored the happiness that blown.
Hearts were bind which loneliness nowhere to find.
A new story starts,
Where two people cannot be apart.
May the sweetness last as love runs to thy happy hearts,
As the story goes on where journey has many to tell.
Come and see, as Siquijor take you free.
Where love I see is extraordinary.
Jun 18, 2017
Jun 18, 2017 at 1:00 AM UTC
Love is the root of missions
and sacrifice the fruit of missions
Glory to the anointed King
the creator of a chosen offspring.
Ever so delighted to be enlightened
by the ignited spirit that is heightened
from the light rays of a new dawn
til the warrior within is born
The essence of being radical
is the will of good
the conceptual of a root
rooted and built in God’s image
a fully-fledged seed of Abraham
As Apostle Paul’s spirit
overflown with thanksgiving
his objective was to implement change
strengthen our faith and live in peace
Pieces of greenpeace
misunderstood by malicious-minded creatures
I recall hollowness
dearly engraved in the
hearts of many
superficial increment in
today’s youth
often inferiorated from the truth
they’re spiritually pretendin’
to be naturally defendin’
Oh, lily of the valley
make their minds pure.
Do you ever wonder how God sees you?
A radical Christian who’s simply a quality
of a New Testament normality
it is in your core to be pure,
to be called by the Lion’s roar,
to not live but to live who’s in you.
Apostle Paul’s awakening
was radical
thought-provoking sensation
as being biblical
the words he spoke were profound
his temple so refined
yet his view on earthly living
was actively passive to godliness;
to live is Christ
and to die is gain, he said.
The ideology of being radical
is to live in the sense God created you to be
politically and socially,
its force is to make you philanthropic
boldly empathic to the notion of being rhapsodic.
I am artistic
poetic instincts in the fullness
of embodying metamorphoristic mystic.
Theology unfolds a mystery that
we should be the change we want to see
a generation that profiteth free
a ministry holistic as can be.
Be vigilant.
Be diligent.
Be practical.
Be radical.
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 3:23 PM UTC
it appears as though
there was a coup,
in kookaburra land,
this morning.
much fuss,
and cacophony.
as the brown and blue kingfisher clan, reassembled,
their royal court.
the big old king,
uncurled his talons,
unfurled his wings,
gave one last,
manical chuckle....
and fell from his perch.
to lie still,
upon the dusty,
brown earth.
shocked, silence for some seconds, and then...
the eucalypts erupted into, (what would appear to the outsider);
cold calculating mirth.
as the young jacko princes, all began the joking joust
for the top place berth.
in a melee of swooping, chuckling grace,
a contest no less,
set to test....
mettle, worth and cackle call.
each young bird,
takes to the wing and flies into the maddening...and how close,
how loud,
how startling,
they can be.
is made known,
by those,
whose years,
have flown.
when all, is said and done. tourney overflown,
feathers are preened.
then the winner
is presented,
with opportunity, bold....
to nest the queen.
as to the rest,
they take their place,
in the chaotic, cackling, cacophonous,
kookabuurra clan nests.
to bide their time,
until, the next coup,
comes calling...
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 6:11 PM UTC
I remember the pain
my heart was overflown with.
I remember how I inflicted
wounds into my porcelain skin.
a punishment
for not being the girl
he wished for.
I still remember the sting
of your voice as it echoed
move on
through my membrane.
I had dedicated my all to you,
but it was never enough.
I did everything
to make your lips remain
pursed against mine,
to keep your fingertips tracing my features.
I did everything
to fight against my corrupted thoughts,
to hide from my monsters.
but I forgot
that no matter how far I ran,
how hard I tried to believe I was okay,
my monsters,
my demons,
my disease
remained in my core.
and because of my weakness
and inability to control
I forgot to remember
to love myself.
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 5:28 PM UTC
Please don't say it,
those three little words
that form a lump in my throat
and a tremor in my nerves.
Please don't say it,
I know you mean well
but my heart can't handle
another splinter or crack.
Please don't say it,
I won't think of you less
if you let this pleasantry pass
Carry on and ignore these tears overflown.
Please don't say it,
We both are aware I'll say I'm fine
as I stumble through a lie
to fulfill the expectations of this social interaction.
Jun 9, 2023
Jun 9, 2023 at 10:42 PM UTC
This white, cloudy light
shining through my window,
caressing a small framed picture
of you
holding my hand
holding a flower.
Just weeks ago.
This silence, fading memory of the rain
has overflown my bedroom,
empty.
As if my reality was nothing
but a broken paintbrush,
a mandolin, waiting to be loved again,
a memory.
You knew how much I loved
drinking tea
with you and a poetry book
in our favorite spot
in our favorite cafe ...
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 8:01 AM UTC
silhouette of sails breezed through the twilight hour,
the working man was long aroused from his sleep,
long strips of inked paper billowed out into the dank alley,
infused with the rotten aroma of yesterday.
the paper-thin veil draped over the construction site,
the working men had their silhouettes enslaved to the sheet,
an arrow of shadow shot through the muted screen of the cinema,
a line of laundry zigzagged the sky overhead, ********** pages of blue,
the rickshaw man was crossing stairs,
toeing winding train tracks, children nimbly dashed past danger
a fisherman was dreaming of secret deluges,
he would oar his way through the overflown streets, catching a dim sum box or two
a seagull fixed its hungry gaze on you, chewing stick
you leaned on the cart you have been pushing, facing habour
Jul 27, 2022
Jul 27, 2022 at 2:22 PM UTC
I sat at the patio
seeing that portrait of a women facing ocean
discovering unsoundness of my imagination
as a saccadic thunder blazed
opening the eye of sky
as the clouds liberated first rain drops
which kissed inglorious mud
filling the air with intoxication
of romantic vapors.
Chained by the lust of intolerable fragrance
i crept along with those winds
near to the parapet as lazily as a drugged snail!
Tantalizing my dreams
a heavy wind with some dew
blew on to my face
as my lips raised in a sarcastic passion
conveying its reason to live.
Humanity overflown from my heart
as the innovative part of my brain
continued to search for the irrational logic of my smile.
Jul 11, 2010
Jul 11, 2010 at 3:59 AM UTC
A tired girl starts her day with a sigh like the moan of a violin
Her groggy mind is overflown with empty thoughts that have yet to be tamed by sleeping in
Her mornings consist of the same boring routine,
Get up, get dressed, but first make sure you’re clean,
In her sleep drunken state, she stays in the shower until it’s too late,
I guess making it to school on time was not to be her fate.
When she finally stumbles into class, tardy slip on hand
She sinks to an empty desk, unable to stand.
The classroom discussion gets her more and more lost,
Although I suppose missing half of it would have its cost…
She seemed to be quite vacuous at times,
But she held a lot of smarts, just hidden in her mind.
She would scrutinize her work until she had an idyllic idea
But sometimes it was too big of one for her mind to appeal
But even though she tends to assail to her work,
Her perfectionist tendencies don’t let her finish any work,
A tired girl ends her day with a sigh like the moan of a violin
But tomorrow she will just have to stop and try again.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 10:41 PM UTC
you slip into my mind once again
as i slip into unconsciousness
guilt plagues my insides black
and all i can see from you now is red
why did i not leave you a note?
no, i was much too prideful then
it got in the way
but you must know i had to get out
and you can't blame me for not wanting to stay,
but don't blame yourself either
it was a haste decision,
dear, you must know i took your old cassette tapes and cinnamon scented perfume
i was with you for a year
but i felt closer to you when i was holding those objects in my hands
than i was holding you in my arms
i had to drive out of the state
get away
because i knew as soon as you came to find me gone
i was not going to want to see your doe eyes fill to the brim with your crocodile tears
and even thinking about it now makes me pity your cherub face even more
it's not that you are unattractive
(quite the opposite in fact)
you were always intellectual,
you were generous
but yet there was something off putting
and without reason, i will leave you now
sitting at home, trash overflown
with tissues and stained dreams of finding someone who loved you
Jan 21, 2017
Jan 21, 2017 at 11:11 PM UTC
My last night at the Moulin Rouge
Was spent coated in heartbreak,
Regret, and tears
Which would have overflown the Seine.
I can never return…
The dead have no need
For cabarets, alcohol,
And the world’s amount of exotic women.
But most of all,
The dead do not pine for
Lost chances
And a fate written in error.
The dead do not have to forgive
And make amends.
The lights will go out…the conflict…
Resolved.
My last night in the Moulin Rouge
Was spend covered in absinthe,
And the other poisons I needed
To remain alive…
If even temporarily.
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 11:24 PM UTC
6 lights have suggested
A birdcall as my will
To dig a tunnel under the stillest night
To echo the autumn, read the book and surrender
I guess the reason has overflown
6 lights show me the naked myths as linear as the thread of the town
I could not question that I wish to be held down before laughing in the rain
Press my love/ a huff for courage/ cleansed up in the trees /I drown until the sense is blurry
6 lights haven’t told the seventh a word
It has left its cordless phone in the room with the view too rough for memory
I can still see the doctor leaping from the bleachers
And the light has found a place to gleam maybe in that idea
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 6:48 AM UTC
I miss my Deliahla
The happiness she bore
She greeted me every morning
Every night when I'd come home
I'd miss her even more
A beauty bore in hues of blue
Here eyes were white as snow
But one day she had to go
She was smoothing the way
a decision overflown with woe
I had to chop her down
I cut in frowns that day
no more would i see her
no more morning grace
Delilah beauty gone away
My morning glory is no more
Oct 27, 2011
Oct 27, 2011 at 6:08 PM UTC
and i can't even stomach the movie Juno
without thinking of your lips on my skin
Sea of Love was our anthem
and darling
our sea of love hath overflown
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 4:01 AM UTC
Cloaked in my blankets,
I hear a fulmination of sounds.
The sounds of children weeping,
And of bombs capturing the ground.
I covered my ears and secured my eyes
Only to find that this time around,
These sounds were not inside my mind.
I released my uniformity of quilt,
And stared upon an empty shelf.
I imagined a place of prestige and luxury,
And the greedy percentage of interminable wealth.
I envisioned families with crystallized patios and polished rooftops
With clothing that glistens like gold and parquet floors that exert possessive pride.
Where a vast mass of appliances lie,
And sculptures of dinnerware are overflown.
But my eyes began to water when a flag was waved with an infinity sign,
And stacks of green paper were boastfully thrown.
And way far beneath their intangible table,
I began to feel a vibration of sounds.
The sounds of the powerless praying for just a couple of crumbs,
As the families fed their colossal crowns.
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 8:47 PM UTC
Stella,the car,waited hours and hours to be towed,
as it drowned in water , for the god watered the city,
like the overflown affection is endangered,
water flowed everywhere, but nothing can be drunk.
Bella, the mobile phone, waited days to be charged,
as it died in water, for the god watered the city,
like the overflown electricity is dangerous,
electronics had their places everywhere, but nothing can be used.
Chola,the apartment, waited weeks to be cleaned,
as it had been dipped in water, for the god watered the city,
like the overflown population is dangerous,
Flats and complexes built everywhere, but nowhere happy people lived.
Chella, the girl, waited years to play in rain,
as she have seen no cry of cloud but dry mud,
like the overflown scarcity is dangerous,
water flows everywhere,but nowhere she can play.
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 1:27 AM UTC
youve plucked pieces of my mind- make a collage with them and dried rose petals; blood works almost as well as glue. give it several weeks to dry and by that time youll have my sanity AND some art for the foyer. hang it above the jar with my heart inside; you may want to change the cloth underneath it, it looks like the "love" has overflown again. im sorry i keep dripping; i didnt want the vaccination, darling, i need the colours i need the life and ive been picking through my veins trying to divine relief through the blues and purples. but there is no respite from this constant ache, no lightening of this burden. youre contagious but my immune system craves this sickness; its an addiction. im left with chiffon bones that float me through a grayscale high and rob me of my senses. living in a silent film, im told what to say and when to say it; it plays on the screen after me. this ink festers under my tongue until it fills my pen with a prison cell and wonderings of an escape. my screams are unheard, unseen; they make no ghost for you to understand but instead pack themselves in my gums, strengthening the threads holding my lips together. i think half a tapestry is whats making it so hard to swallow.
Feb 14, 2014
Feb 14, 2014 at 7:47 PM UTC
On my side of the room
It's my size of the moon
It's my place to hide
In my guitar,
In my cage.
In my home ; I work and I play
I live but am not alive
In my side of the room.
There's the T.V.
There's the radio playing
My friend is complaining
And the innocence has burnt into the wall.
The clock clicked it's camera
And the wall did whisper,
"What are you doing ; Alone child ,
In my side of the room?"
On my side of the room
I'm the sailor of my cigarettes
I'm the king in my deck of cards
And Beetle Bailey has
Walked the seven seas
But the ocean's overflown.
When it's visiting time : Tea time
It's then when I wake up , shape up
And the wall did whisper,
"What are you doing , Alone Child ,
On my side of the moon?"
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 5:42 PM UTC
It is night, the Sun no longer protects from the overthinking abyss
And my mind unleashes the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse
Plague of Locusts in Egypt, rivers declared to be overflown
Just because my mind feels sad and alone
Apr 28, 2021
Apr 28, 2021 at 11:54 AM UTC
Even though, when the heaven split .
i will bear it upon my crest.
when the oceans overflown ;
i will swill them .
when the earth immobilize still .
i will roll it upon my finger tips.
such a challenge the dripping from thy holy lips.
that lets my orbs flow an ocean of blood.
that drown Noah ancient lost land .
but that cant find path down thy heart.
i cant only count days of agony of hurt .
days of actroce tearing and sad despair .
the idleness that is dragging me for fear of no repair.
the adventure that is hooking me for far recess.
are nothing but the mourning to thy soul no access .
if i can only see the paradise of thy eyes.
if the sentence total is my life without thee.
my deafening screams of rage .
will break all the tympanal of heaven and earth .
and the world will fray to death.
sublime creature ,flame of hell.
celestial and paradisiacal homage is you.
what a remorse !cause my weakness deep as bayou.
and the disdain of my cabal cause me to yell.
oh,for much sol to burn.
to sere my ocean of tears
if only you can now turn .
and move with me on this fume stairs .
and fly and shine like arcturus.
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 5:03 PM UTC