"overlooking" poems
Picture us happy, you and me; K-I-S-S-I-N-G
Making love together, pleasing you to please me; *******
Picture us naked, you all over me; K-I-S-S-I-N-G
Getting deep into each other, like we were meant to be; *******
you gave me your treasure,
I plan I want to keep forever
That night I will
I’ always remember
us overlooking the lake
Eating dinner, candle light,dinner
listening to the band play
The view was dynamite
Our lipstick perfect
Your dress was fitting tight
Looking deep in your eyes;
Glistening in the candle light
Started feeding you off my plate
Laughing as we enjoyed the night
our lips meeting their fate
Our bodies kneading each other right
Holding each other tight
Wanting each other more by the second
Our clothes putting on a fight
Your Dress falling to the floor, ******* second
Pleasing your body right
Teaching your body a lesson
Using my hands to please you
While using my tongue as a weapon
your body so beautiful
I melt in your hands
Just from smelling your essence
I can't wait to be in your presen
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 9:27 PM UTC
Delilah baby I can feel the weight of you in my arms.
I can feel my k to z love for you and see how that laugh of yours makes people cry
and how that smile pierces my heart because it looks just like his did.
I can feel the sun kissing each one of our toes as we sit overlooking the grand canyon in the kaleidoscope sunset.
your spider fingers are wrapped in my hair like a plea to never be left alone
your spindle legs are all knobby kneed and pale entwined with mine.
baby he left me not you.
I was a hurricane and he loved you too much to look
afraid that one glance and he'd be head over heels reeling out of control
like you were the drug and he was the addict.
they say everything happens for a reason and you are my reason.
Delilah baby you are the here and the now of forever.
the stop sign on the corner is an obstacle for street racers but its a godsend because its just enough of a pause for me to kiss you between the eyes.
and I can't ever finish anything so this story isn't complete
and at the top of the pass where the air is clear enough if we sing loud enough maybe he will hear us and remember who he left behind.
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 12:20 PM UTC
The Violent Storm by the Water
(Do You Trust Your Imagination)
was not unexpected
but its fury was without compare,
poet awake in semi-preparation
living by water should be a human right for all,
even a small room, overlooking, gives new meaning to
perspective
we blessed with a patio door, encased in a glass window big enough for a smallish elephant to come visit and play with children
a storm is observed up close and personal as if one was in
an IMAX 3D theater, and the edges of existence were being redefined,
sharpened by fury, tooled by tools untouched by mortal hands
miles of bay illuminated with bass drum furious accompaniment
stand before the screen,
poets arms outstretched as a supplicant,
the light of the lightening passes through him,
yet , behind me, she still sleeps
then the entire house shakes, reverberates, as if to say:
”tremble humans, cower, you are not permitted to watch my majesty, for such it was when created heaven and earth”
bold poet window worshipping
risky answers:
“but who will know
if even a poet cannot declaim sights
no one else has seen?”
”true, true, but you must choose if poet truly,
do you trust your imagination human,
to prove that the powers of the heavens are limitless?”
write of storms unseen and nature endless miracles
***”then you may call yourself
a miracle too,
a poet***”
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 12:14 PM UTC
Picture us happy, you and me; K-I-S-S-I-N-G
Making love together, pleasing you to please me; *******
Picture us naked, you all over me; K-I-S-S-I-N-G
Getting deep into each other, like we were meant to be; *******
you gave me your treasure,
I plan I want to keep forever
That night I will
I’ always remember
us overlooking the lake
Eating dinner, candle light,dinner
listening to the band play
The view was dynamite
Our lipstick perfect
Your dress was fitting tight
Looking deep in your eyes;
Glistening in the candle light
Started feeding you off my plate
Laughing as we enjoyed the night
our lips meeting their fate
Our bodies kneading each other right
Holding each other tight
Wanting each other more by the second
Our clothes putting on a fight
Your Dress falling to the floor, ******* second
Pleasing your body right
Teaching your body a lesson
Using my hands to please you
While using my tongue as a weapon
your body so beautiful
I melt in your hands
Just from smelling your essence
I can't wait to be in your presen
Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 10:52 AM UTC
Time: 7:30 pm
Temp.: 68F
~~~
overlooking the runways,
festooned by
accidental heavenly whimsy,
or humanistic whimsical inten-sity,
all the the planes and trucks are flashing
electrifying speckles, of eclectically synced
red and green
it is not my holiday,
but no matter,
like every New Yorker this day,
I am happily celebrating its
double U,
unique, unusual
"record breaking warmth"
yes, the Fahrenheit is outtasight, and by the dawn of
early eve~night,
the Centigrade is spiraling in reverse retrograde,
as the temp eases on down, just below seventy degrees,
on this dewinterized twenty fourth day of
December, two nought and fifteen
traffic is light, the terminal, an unbusy, slim shadow of itself,
the maddening crowds gone, now all are among
the dearly departed and either/or, the newly arrived
so composition of the observational, brings cheer and smiles to my faith,
(I mean my face),
the crowning quietude of clear skies, the absence of street smart
city bustle and hustle,
the languid atmosphere at the gates,
(where seldom is heard an encouraging word)#
makes me reconsider the true meaning of
the au courant phraseology of this day
"record breaking warmth"
for there is indeed
a calm invisible warmth suffusing all tonite,
chests glowing from fireplaces within,
contentment chamber containers in both hearth and heart,
and I am thinking
miracle,
about all the human warmth
on this celebrated evening,
holy night
indeed,
it is breaking records of
recorded human fusion,
the united commonality of millions warming
his and her stories world-over,
that your personal poet is
warming to record
Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 8:21 PM UTC
*Blue is the boulder overlooking the bay
Loosely pocked by weather-worn stains
Unwavering guardian of all that lay
Enigmatic yet silently screaming its pains
Blue is the reflection dancing playfully
Laid generously by the twilight moon
Upon the vast canvas of the darkened sea
Elated ripples readily accepting such a boon
Blue is the halo encircling the moon
Lavish circlet gifted by the sun
Unnoticed by eyes that slumbered too soon
Evading the sands of time that run
Blue is the silhouette of a lone sailboat
Lurching and bobbing by will of the waves
Unknowingly catching the zephyrs that float
Eluding the fingers from watery graves
Blue is the man; perched upon the boulder
Lapping up the stars mirrored upon the sea
Usurped heart of his had never sung drearier
Ensnared by woeful wonderment...*
that man is me...
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 10:28 AM UTC
I knew I loved you
since the fourth feather light forehead kiss.
In your presence
I am isolated in utopian bliss.
An island overlooking
glowing hydrogen masses
of what looks like Pacific fires,
or Polaris,
or just you.
Small suns floating in nautical blue,
showered in Pearl Harbor reds
and paper kamikaze sunset hues.
My high sandcastle walls fall
a million grains all over the beach
and I am defenseless against the tide
that is about to swallow me.
I melt away,
let my demons burn,
open the gates,
and let the little girl escape.
I look at you
and everything
is made out of light.
You make every day
worth waking up to.
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 2:59 AM UTC
My Heart and Mind had a discussion one day,
About a man that they both knew quite well.
The heated discussion continued for hours,
Both with arguments meant to compel.
A debate ensued between the two,
With each taking a different perspective.
The Heart believed the man to be true,
And the Mind thought he was deceptive.
Heart started the discussion with an obvious point,
"He is sweet and gentle like no man before."
Mind responded smugly, "That's great in the moment
but how does he act after she's walked out the door?"
Heart countered, already knowing the point being made.
"Sure, he may not be able to write or call;
He is busy with constant demands of his time.
What he feels in his heart matters most of all."
"I disagree," and Mind continued to say,
"Actions mean far more than words alone.
It is when words and actions are considered together
that a man's true feelings are shown."
"He has to compartmentalize to get through the day."
Heart continued to defend his intentions,
When they are together his feelings are real,
but her insecurities span many dimensions."
"It's funny you would mention compartmentalizing.
Apparently your memory isn't as sharp as mine,
He was once quoted as saying this was not his strength,
proof that his statements don't always align."
"You are cynical, suspicious and guarded."
Heart was clearly tired of this dispute,
"Those traits are clouding your judgement.
He is genuine and telling the truth."
"I think you are overlooking the obvious but
I'll relax and stop doubting his intentions
if he makes an effort to send a simple sign."
Heart and Mind both wanting to prove their point
and have the bragging rights of superiority.
Mind sure that the man would disappoint her;
Heart confident in his genuine sincerity.
Both waited patiently for some type of gesture,
Something to demonstrate that he really does care.
Heart began to worry and whispered to herself,
"Stay calm and trust that it's not just another affair."
Patience prevailed and an email arrived,
just as Heart had hoped and prayed.
Mind, although disappointed by being proved wrong,
was relieved and no longer afraid.
Trust and calm filled her spirit when thinking of him,
but it was both that won in the end.
Maybe they were more than temporary lovers
and could also be permanent friends.
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 10:45 AM UTC
There is a body floating in the water of Lake Michigan again, but no one is willing to fish it out. There is a body floating in the pond near my subdivision again, but everyone already knew that anyway.
I am sitting eighty miles away, overlooking a city that is not mine, thinking about how the moon outside my window is the same moon that you can see from down below in your partially frozen-over dirt bed. I am thinking about the vampire that sits in his apartment, chugging two-to-three bottles of blood a week, and wondering if he is haunted by the same ghosts as I am.
It’s taken me eighteen years to realize that I was infected with a different variation of his curse all along—I am less human and more lycanthrope than I would like to admit. I am not like you, I am not like him, I am my own breed and that terrifies me. (There are black cats prowling in my heart and fragments of mirrors in my liver and salt that bleeds from my heels when I walk.)
No matter how many rabbits’ feet I tie to my keys, how many dreamcatchers I put above my bed, how many cloves of garlic I hang over my door, I am never able to rid myself of the chill that goes hand in hand with the phantom you left here.
Mother, I think I killed a man two full moons ago and I haven’t been the same since. I threw his body into the lake and watched him drift out into the unknown, watched the kraken drag him down, watched the water spew him back up like a cork. And now I need you to make your way back to the land of the living to sit by my side. I want you to cut off my head and make me a trophy animal. Create a rug from my fur. Eat my organs and freeze the rest for winter. Use me for your own survival. I just want to be helpful.
I want to be everything the vampire was not but my fingers are breaking from holding on too tight.
I should let go.
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 2:06 AM UTC
#*Sun rolls down
Weaves a multicoloured carpet
Fades away in the fringes
It’s dark
Towering
Amused
Being placed
At such a height
Overlooking the majestic Sarovar Dam
Musing at the distant past
Hands by the sides
Never forgotten
The Iron Man
For the world to see
Statue of unity*#
Dec 5, 2019
Dec 5, 2019 at 2:48 PM UTC
Some are born balanced
On a precipice and remain
Tethered for the rest of their days
Overlooking barely there
Mental images
Fragments of a lucid dream
Of a conjured up past life
Once etched on skin
But no longer there
They speak of
Violent reinvention
And escape
While the hollow speaks
And catapults into spaces
Better left unknown
Psyches wrapped in denial
Running the gamut of habitual sins
Perpetuating legacies of pain
With hands that carry
The burdens of forefathers
Tiptoeing
In the twilight of dreams
Willing for the heavens
To send a spring that blooms
Hearts whose pounding
Reverberates endlessly
inside of ears
Eyes that get darker as they close
Meet with ours
A look
A sigh
Ascertaining a mutual recognition
Of the familiar
Shadows that plague.
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 1:39 PM UTC
The storms are pounding
Destruction is rampant
No end seems in sight.
The day is endless
The night never ending
Will it ever, ever be right?
Lightning crashes
Winds are swirling
Torrents of water fall down.
The earth is shaking
The shelter is breaking
Thunderous sound resound.
Above the storm
the Calm prevails
Overlooking the turmoil below.
Awaiting the return
of order again
That Peace and Calm bestow.
Then it is over...
No more pounding
Silence, beautiful silence
Comes whispering in the ears.
The Earth becomes firm
The Sun is still shining
It dries up all the tears.
Through the debris
New hopes arise
Covering the scars below.
Growing stronger, stronger
As strength rebounds
Renewed by the seeds we sow.
Repairing the damage
Replacing the lost
Moving forward with or without.
Finding Hope in the future
as Faith reaches upward
Redeeming Love without a doubt.
--------------------------------
When the storms of life
Cause turmoil and strife,
The Son dries all my tears.
When all seemed lost
I counted the cost
Turned over all my fears.
I am surviving.
I am stronger still.
Nov 22, 2010
Nov 22, 2010 at 6:17 PM UTC
*The winds softly whisper,
Singing a gentle romantic tune,
As dusty pink roses ... bathed in dewdrops,
Leaving a pleasant fragrance,
In attune.
When the petals sway and unfold,
Into the tender breeze,
'Neath the lucent moon,
And the sky sparkle like diamonds,
Twinkling from above ... with ease.
Overlooking a refine emerald blanket,
Surrounded by sprinkles of white smooth pebbles,
Beside a lovely exotic tree,
On this playful summers night,
And it seems quite special.*
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 12:48 PM UTC
The old man sat on a boulder,
overlooking the river of words.
The great stream that flows
into the lake of lyrics and
on to the ocean of verse.
Looking out beyond the river
he could see his beloved garden.
The garden that had given him
inspiration to create the pictures
he painted with the river's words.
As he looked out he saw
the bees among the flowers.
He watched the birds eat fruit
that grew abundantly on the trees
and gave shade to all the animals.
His gaze came back to the river.
He saw a girl child knitting melodies
from the words of the river.
Though many see the river of words
it is she to whom he gave the secret
of the source of the river.
For it is she who has the power
to weave the words into magic.
It is she who will pass the secret
to her children through the ages.
The old man smiles down upon her,
she is the child of the Ancient Poet.
© 19/12/2009
Oct 27, 2010
Oct 27, 2010 at 9:55 PM UTC
What a miracle life can be!
Even the trees all come from tiny
seeds. To find greater meaning in
our state of being, you must see the
beauty in the simple things...
Yet simple they aren't if you break
them apart. Our entire world is a big
piece of art. Skillfully crafted by
higher existence. It's such a shame
that so many have missed it.
Overlooking
all we have for what we don't need.
Stop and appreciate life, and
Let your soul be freed.
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 5:41 PM UTC
mean beam bottom ***** without reluctance.
\\ air above \\
since forever baby boy: since forever liquid sparkler.
he has sense
& peanut butter jelly geography to his page.
his romance is of the west.
his eyes are of dandelions kicked & to the wind.
he moves like ancient turtle migration.
reaches feet to sidewalk \\ sand to depths \\ ride \\
night:
velcro-tightened mind withstanding.
party lights, ***** willows, retro punch, he
is orpheus descending: with all the elements positioned just so.
\\ jellyfish electric \\
he says he likes the loneliness.
he says it’s the water.
& so he moves \\ wills himself into the next measure.
liquid resolute bits.
so move \\ orca \\
curl of eye \\ so ride \\ black rollo wave \\
basilica \\ & \\
coral reaches below \\\\\
he likes to tell it, with warmed exaggeration.
slow-motion buffalo stampede. ride the railroads free & easy.
orange glowing bars of elsewhere. oscillating seal calls.
oily portland hipsters howling on the beach. those
juno cheeked rosy-red lips.
somewhere, sister getting married.
spring, summer, fall, winter, spring.
africa girl on a branch of a tree of a forest, overlooking elephant burial grounds.
color & white material:
plantations, gas stations, diners, & sharks.
this is the morning lunar \\
sweet blue beach of the old & awakening.
he crawls out & into her breaks.
her deep heights & bombora reef. the serotonin
functions twice, exposed between thin tissues of warm-blooded neurochemistry.
human, shown.
he is as a raw page, blank, yet
dipped \\
\\ so ride \\ bulbous waves of air mother agua \\
ride \\ &
\\ ride \\ &
brew by light these occurrences forever.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 4:41 AM UTC
As I write this from up above a couple hundred feet,
Overlooking this beautiful and bustling city
-- which I had only known lesser than twenty-four hours --
I cannot help but heave out a sigh of contentment.
***** even though we're hundreds of miles away from home,
This city has not ceased its glaring warmth.
Maybe it's the environment, maybe it's the people
Maybe it comes down to being just blessed.
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 9:49 AM UTC
I fell in love twice the first time.
First pinching myself assuring the initial first.
The initial first I realized how silent love was.
Seeing all but hearing nothing.
This was my first kiss.
Coming into contact with a quiver my lips
have never before felt.
Falling in love twice.
Certain that I am uncertain of nothing.
Learning to speak a new language.
Lips poked out.
Exposed to foreign land.
Overlooking my feet.
My ship never before having sailed.
Day turned to night.
My heart stead fast.
Crashing against the ripple of tides.
The experience of something new,
Tides pulled by the hull of rubber soles.
Our arms like anchors.
Our feet hesitant, losing all feeling of finding ground.
Our tongue the cargo set to provide entry
into things no longer forbidden.
Night reconstructs day.
The initial first of two times I fell in love.
Eyes closed.
Our breath becoming more shallow,
Passing through the canal of each others mouths.
Overlooking the side of my nose against hers.
An anchor dropped.
Chain link after chain link, plunged deep
Far from the shore of everything I knew.
My shoes soaked.
The pavement with every reason to worry.
Forever fractured.
This anchor falling faster and faster.
Without worry of kink
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 7:44 PM UTC
The Commissioner has summoned Batman and Robin
The Bat signal had just came on
It was a night being long
Batman and Robin came in a flash on the scene
The villains will all eventually come clean
It seemed there was a big plot becoming an act
But when it comes to crime, it gets a big smack
The villains trying to get Batman and Robin dissolved
They wanted the crusader’s out of the way, and not involved
High above the Thrift building overlooking Gotham City
To the citizens below it will be a pity
Sleeping gas has been spreading to knock the city out
However Batman and Robin are trapped in a trunk being no where about
Every citizen has fallen asleep
Are the Gotham City citizens in a song of my soul to keep?
Will Batman and Robin escape being ocean deep?
The Bat channel continues on far as long
Batman was holding his breath, and suddenly broke from his bonds and cut Robin loss as well
They immediately headed for the Thrift building
When Batman and Robin arrived, all the villains were shocked in surprise
The question came up with how did you escape?
I’m Batman, and what saved me was my cape
Robin replied, “Let’s put these villains to their own sleep in jail deep”
POW from Batman to the RIDDLER
BANG from Robin to the JOKER
YONK to the other villains
Batman and Robin stated to the villains, “Crime truly doesn’t pay and you now received our relay”
Good Bat night and Batman and Robin turned crime into a justice sight.
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 3:45 AM UTC
Lace on my thighs and fringe around my neck,
more is revealed than the flowing crimson blood.
Bleeding deeper and deeper with every slowed breath.
Deeper than the girls I see with their shoulders against the wall,
the dream girls with their purple hair and tattered tights.
My neck growing saturated with strawberry nightmares,
but at least they like my tattoos.
I feel the black cats circling my ankles,
cries of hunger and any form of normalcy or stability.
It feels familiar, like a hymn from my childhood
throbbing between my ears.
Overlooking other's carnage is easy, until it's your own.
I don't know what this means, but it comforts me.
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 7:33 AM UTC
Remember that stretch in the crack of dawn
Late we both were so I thought I had companion
I ran fast towards you and deafeningly called on
But you walked past me in the hallway and waved a yawn
Remember those mornings in our classroom
When there was no other feels than gloom
You’d suddenly crack a joke and keep us abloom
You’d give us a good laugh and avert the doom
Remember the countless lunch times we shared
You’d go to the canteen and I’d have mine prepared
Then you’d come to me and ask for candy I had spared
I’d hand you one or maybe two as if I was compelled
Remember the sunlit afternoons, humid and hot
Obliged to take a nap but there’s no problem on that
When I couldn’t, I’d look out the window overlooking a vacant lot
And some random times I’d find myself glancing at your spot
Remember the twilight spent at some place
You came to me and all of a sudden broke into my own space
I went forth to desist looking at your adorable face
But you went after me and caught me in a chase
Remember that night when everything was easy
We talked for hours and not cared about the others, really
You leaned closer and made me breathe barely
You and me were finally we and I couldn’t help but be happy
Remember some other nights when we had it rough
When we felt like giving up and everything just wasn’t enough
But we unceasingly came out tough
We swept every worry and hurdle in our path with a laugh
Remember that other night in the busy city
Under the beautiful night sky in the hour so early
You walked beside me and held my hand tightly
It was cold and windy but with you I felt summery
There was also a night I can remember precisely
Your eyes were locked on mine deeply
I repeatedly swore I’d hold you forever dearly
And you whispered, “Don’t worry, sweetie, till doomsday you got me.”
But as much as I would like the night to never end
The sun didn’t want the moon, stars and serene darkness to extend
It rose above quickly and it hurt so bad to see it transcend
Hence I woke up that morning being just your old friend.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 10:58 PM UTC
A couple holding hands, huddled together
A rusty crane arm reaching the stars
Smell of salt air mixed with seaweed
Shades of red, and orange mingle
With the glistening water as the sun sets
Wooden bench perched on a bank,
Tiny plaque memory of two souls
Spending moments here of evenings past
Overlooking fishing boats tethered,
An ancient weathered harbor wall.
Lazy, full seagulls, flap heavily away
Playful laughter floats, on the air
As children dance too and from
Waves lapping the pebbled beach
Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 4:23 PM UTC
The lone eagle makes its
solo journey over the vast horizon
I can see my flag in
the setting sun
as the lemon halo of fire
becomes a vivid pomegranate red,
the turquoise sky darkening
into a sea of navy blue
and wispy, white clouds
are hovering over us like
spirits in the universe
Lady Liberty,
overlooking the evening
of the New York Harbor,
displays her lit up torch like a
cosmic nightlight
She forever sheds light over
weary Americans
to remind us to
still dream the American dream
but that vision often seems
so out of our common reach
Uncle Sam has put on his nightcap,
a tuckered, old man is he
The crickets are chirping,
singing to me their strange lullabye
as I think I'll call it a night
Goodnight, America, Goodnight
Nov 14, 2010
Nov 14, 2010 at 10:33 AM UTC
Don't be late
dip your toes fast.
It's up to you
if you want to do it
at the same time
when the day too
melts down into
one more pith dark
finishing line.
The twilight has a
lot to digest then
as one more day
cools off into it's bold
deep painting splash
make sure you go first.
Before the waxing moon
scurries to the sea
looking for it's mirror
on the deep shady water
only to discover
zillions overlooking stars
are already there!
Jul 21, 2022
Jul 21, 2022 at 11:02 PM UTC