Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
MeanAileen Mar 2017
I'm in love with a man
I know not to love,
his heart will never be free.
I waste my days
a slave to his ways-
knowing he will never love me.

He is the secret
I can never reveal,
the best lover I ever have known.
I've nothing to give
but my body.....it's his-
fresh dirt for him to bury his bone.

Hopelessly hooked
on him like a drug,
wanting him day and night.
I play his ***** game
I have no shame-
taking it all, knuckles white.

Dead is the conscience
I knew so well,
and morals.....they ran far away.
Clarity now blurry
in a love-drunk slurry-
the 'good me' has gone astray.

To lay with him
is playing with fire,
the flames...they burn me alive.
Leaving me marred
hurting and scarred-
the pain on which I thrive.

A fool for punishment
I beg for more,
even if all I am worthy of is ****.
Loving him breaks me
it overtakes me-
but I'm not willing to quit.

I die a little more
with each passing day,
until again, I get lost in those eyes....
All doubts go away
so for now I'll stay-
living this life of lies.
You can't always help who you fall in love with...
Rebecca Carter Apr 2013
Exhaustion overtakes her soul
She used to fight it and her demons
Yet lately she sees no reason, for life has taken toll
Sun shines so lovely and weather warmed so right
She found that smiles came and laughter trilled
Her heart fell and leapt slightly again
Yet his words still burned where they fell
Lonely and broken, she stands once again to face the world
The cruel world that stripped away her innocence and ***** her of pure joy
The world that held her up and dropped her, dropped her flat
Just as flat as her deflated lost heart
But yet, she fought on
And through this fight, she developed an unimagiable strength
Her smile still shone warm, her eyes always light
A new detemination urged her on
A new phase of her life
Yes life would be complete in his arms
Yet away from that protection is where she learned:
Life is cruel and painful but through the pain, beauty overtakes time and time again
Marylou Narducci Jan 2013
My Father gave me wisdom
and scriptures for my heart.
My Mother put in practice
the love that God imparts.

By watching how she lives her love
and How Gods light so shines,
and seeing the peace within her heart,
I wanted that for mine.

Never boastful nor judgemental
I have never heard her yell
She will quote a verse to ease your pain,
She knows them all so well.

No problem overtakes her
His promises she trusts
She lives to do his will because
she loves Him oh so much

She's a quiet overcomer
An example for us all
When I need an inspiration,
I know just who to call.

My Mother may not ever know
The seeds of faith she sows
How many souls she wins for God
as through her life she goes

She's a living testimony
And when her time on Earth is gone
I, for one, will be there
To hear God say "Well Done"



2/19/95  mln
My Father gave me wisdom
and scriptures for my heart.
My Mother put in practice
the love that God imparts.

By watching how she lives her love
and How Gods light so shines,
and seeing the peace within her heart,
I wanted that for mine.

Never boastful nor judgemental
I have never heard her yell
She will quote a verse to ease your pain,
She knows them all so well.

No problem overtakes her
His promises she trusts
She lives to do his will because
she loves Him oh so much

She's a quiet overcomer
An example for us all
When I need an inspiration,
I know just who to call.

My Mother may not ever know
The seeds of faith she sows
How many souls she wins for God
as through her life she goes

She's a living testimony
And when her time on Earth is gone
I, for one, will be there
To hear God say "Well Done"



2/19/95  mln
My Father gave me wisdom
and scriptures for my heart.
My Mother put in practice
the love that God imparts.

By watching how she lives her love
and How Gods light so shines,
and seeing the peace within her heart,
I wanted that for mine.

Never boastful nor judgemental
I have never heard her yell
She will quote a verse to ease your pain,
She knows them all so well.

No problem overtakes her
His promises she trusts
She lives to do his will because
she loves Him oh so much

She's a quiet overcomer
An example for us all
When I need an inspiration,
I know just who to call.

My Mother may not ever know
The seeds of faith she sows
How many souls she wins for God
as through her life she goes

She's a living testimony
And when her time on Earth is gone
I, for one, will be there
To hear God say "Well Done"



2/19/95  mln
My Father gave me wisdom
and scriptures for my heart.
My Mother put in practice
the love that God imparts.

By watching how she lives her love
and How Gods light so shines,
and seeing the peace within her heart,
I wanted that for mine.

Never boastful nor judgemental
I have never heard her yell
She will quote a verse to ease your pain,
She knows them all so well.

No problem overtakes her
His promises she trusts
She lives to do his will because
she loves Him oh so much

She's a quiet overcomer
An example for us all
When I need an inspiration,
I know just who to call.

My Mother may not ever know
The seeds of faith she sows
How many souls she wins for God
as through her life she goes

She's a living testimony
And when her time on Earth is gone
I, for one, will be there
To hear God say "Well Done"
the loss of a child is truly great
it leaves strong men weakened
no wonder then that for Arjuna
it felt like the earth had shaken
and shifted from its axis
leaving his world broken
he forgets that he is the Great Warrior
in this moment he is a father

should he be heartbroken
as his son is dead?
or rejoice
as he died a hero’s death?
or anger
at its unfairness?

in a momentary madness he rages,
“who dared to hurt my darling boy?
who dared my Gandiva defy?
and how was it that he fell alone
weren’t any of you close by?”


under his fierce gaze Yudhisthira trembles
“I’m sorry my brother, I feel your pain,
Abhimanyu was our son too,
foolishly we sent him to his death
that guilt will plague us to our dying day,
but know this-
we tried to protect him
like an egg protects a yolk
we had him surrounded

but fate had other games to play
Jayadratha, King of Sindhu
was our opponent that day,
he played his trump card-
the boon he received from Mahadeva which states
that he shall be able to defy our combined might
on a day that yourself and Keshava are away

against destiny who has a say
he held us prisoner in a duel
and let Abhimanyu escape
deeper and deeper into the cruel clutches
of the Chakravyuha he strayed
the price for our foolishness, with his blood he paid”


Arjuna’s anger now had a target
Jayadratha would his mistake regret
The wielder of the Gandiva makes
A terrifying promise –
“If by sunset tomorrow
Jayadratha’s head does not lay
bleeding in the earth’s embrace
then I shall immolate
myself in the fiery blaze
my name shall be stained with eternal shame”


“why such harsh words, Partha?”, asks Krishna,
“why take such a hasty oath,
what if you fail? Abhimanyu is gone
but there are others
whose dependence upon you is just as it was”


“But Keshava”, Arjuna retorts,
“it was you who had a complaint,
that my arrows had no fire,
that my fighting was spiritless
that I was shirking the Dharma of a warrior,
so now that the flames of passion
are fuelled by my loss
why do you tell me dampen
my vengeance, and besides
with you as my charioteer,
friend and guide,
I am assured
That success will be mine”


“So be it Partha,
It may be that destiny has decreed
that you are Jayadratha’s nemesis,
but be aware, that it will not be easy
our enemies will seize upon this opportunity
to shame you and rid themselves of you
Jayadratha will be well guarded
and if we get past the Kaurava army
to Jayadratha, you must employ
the Pasupatastra-that mighty weapon
gifted to you by Mahadeva himself”


this decision made, they await
the fourteenth day
in the Pandava camp there is anticipation
in the Kaurava camp fear, and anxious preparation
Jayadratha in mortal terror,
would rather the battlefield avoid,
and turn his back and be called a coward
than face Arjuna’s undefeatable missiles
but under Drona’s advice and assurance
he fearfully stays

The fourteenth day dawns
even the Sun God seems excited
he wishes he could stay and watch
the outcome of the fight this day
but the sun cannot stop
it must do its duty
just like the warriors  on the battlefield today

soldiers wither as Arjuna’s wrath
falls as bolts of lighning
assisted by the brave Satyaki
five akshauhinis are decimated
but within a triple vyuha
Jayadratha is still safe
waves and waves of warriors come
and to Yamaloka dispatched
but Jayadratha is not yet encountered
and the sun is low upon the horizon

Fatigue overtakes the battlefield
and the end seems near
in a few minutes the sun will have set-
for the Kaurava’s a welcome relief,
for the Pandava’s their greatest fear!
now Arjuna seems to panic
now he gives in to despair
wishing he could hold back the sun
just till he can exact his revenge!

Krishna realizes his Partha’s  plight
for the sake of justice he must act
with clever insight
this embodiment of the divine
eclipses the sun
behind Narayana’s discus
it is hidden

the world believes
that the sun has set
the mighty Arjuna has fallen!
The Kuarava’s scream in delight,
The Pandava’s crestfallen
Arjuna hangs his head in desperation
he has been unable to fulfill his oath
unable to avenge Abhimanyu’s death

from hiding Jayadratha emerges
cowardly rat now seemingly a lion
“Arjuna, fulfill your promise”, he jeers
“let us see you get on the pyre,
foolish warrior that you are
you dared to clash with
the Kaurava might
now see where your stupidity
has led you, like son like father!”


the entire Kaurava host laughs
overjoyed at seeing Arjuna lost
the greatest of their enemies
will now commit suicide
forever this humiliation
will haunt his brothers
and they shall lose faith
drop down their weapons in
futility and depression
and the war shall be won!

as they rejoice in their ignorance
Krishna intervenes,
suddenly the sun comes out again
bright and shining, as if to say,
“Arjuna is not defeaten!”

Now the tables are turned-
The Kaurava army falls in disarray
in the Pandava camp loud hurrays!
Conches are blown and the fighting resumes
For the second time that day
Jayadratha out in the open feels
The presence of Yama
And Arjuna, his spirits reawakened
looks like a fiery tower
his eyes blazing coals

Krishna speaks: “Quick Arjuna! Do not hesitate
a moment longer,
dispatch your Pasupata with haste,
but remember Jayadratha’s other boon-
the one given to him by his father
that the one who makes his head roll,
will have his own burst into a thousand pieces”


Arjuna obeying stretches his bowstring
The Pasupata is loaded,
a short prayer to Mahadeva said,
the arrow becomes the messenger of death
severing Jayadratha’s head off his shoulder
an expression of shock-the last look on his face
for a moment his body stands
and then falls with a thud to the ground

the Pasupata carries the head afar,
outside the battlefield and deposits
it in the lap of Jayadratha’s father
who seeing the  disembodied head his son
lets its fall on the ground in shock and awe
and instantly in fulfillment of the boon he gave
his head explodes into a thousand fragments

the Sun God bids adieu
now the day is done

the oath is fulfilled,
Arjuna still lives,
The Kauravas are filled with dread
for they know that Arjuna will not cease
his anger will not be appeased
with only the death of Jayadratha
he will now be a fiercer
and a stronger foe

On the Pandava side
Victory drums beat
Abhimanyu has been avenged!

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
19.09.2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Gandiva : Arjuna's divine bow
Mahadeva: Lord Shiva
Keshava: Another name for Krishna
Partha : Another name for Arjuna
Pasupatastra: A weapon gifted to Arjuna by Lord Shiva
Akshauhini: Ancient battle unit consisting of 21,870 chariots (Sanskrit ratha); 21,870 elephants; 65,610 cavalry and 109,350 infantry.
vyuha:battle formation
Yamaloka: the realm of Yama, the God of Death/The Underworld
Narayana : Lord Vishnu

Jayadratha: Once while trying to abduct Draupadi, the wife of the Pandavas, Jayadratha was humiliated by the Pandavas. In order to avenge his humiliation, he underwent rigourous penance to please Lord Shiva from whom he received a boon that he could hold all the Pandavas at bay for one day when Arjuna and Lord Krishna were not around. He used that boon on the day Abhimanyu was to enter the Chakravyuha, thereby preventing the Pandava brothers from protecting Abhimanyu. He was thus the root cause of Abhimanyu's death.
Jayadratha also had another boon from his father, i.e; who ever caused the head of Jayadratha to fall on the ground, will be killed immediately by having his own head burst into 1000 pieces.
Umi Apr 2018
Lilium,
Ah, you fascinating flower, an old gardener who still looks after his duty, mumbled to himself in awe of the stargazer and spider lilies,
They seem so majestic, yet innocent to the extent of a wounderous aura sent by their gentle yet stinging smell, spreading across the room
He said to himself that maybe,  if they are as beautiful and heavenly as he thought,their taste should be beyond reasoning goodness, sweet
Just one bite later, the taste engaging in his old mouth has caused him to become numb, confused and with an irrigular heart rate, paralised.
Oh such an intent, to punish all those who dare to bring ruin to their glory by eating them, trying their taste with death ? Truly murderous.
Seeping through his body before slowly draining his poor life force, the fate of an unknowing man who had become the vessel of great unfolding fury of a flower which seemed to be so kind before hand.
A treasure is alike a flower, the gift of life resembling its beauty and hournour, growing proud until the sweet poison of death overtakes it
When I knew the meaning of eternity you were no longer there, Darling

~ Umi
Anger,
as black as a hook,
overtakes me.
Each day,
each ****
took, at 8:00 A.M., a baby
and sauteed him for breakfast
in his frying pan.

And death looks on with a casual eye
and picks at the dirt under his fingernail.

Man is evil,
I say aloud.
Man is a flower
that should be burnt,
I say aloud.
Man
is a bird full of mud,
I say aloud.

And death looks on with a casual eye
and scratches his ****.

Man with his small pink toes,
with his miraculous fingers
is not a temple
but an outhouse,
I say aloud.
Let man never again raise his teacup.
Let man never again write a book.
Let man never again put on his shoe.
Let man never again raise his eyes,
on a soft July night.
Never. Never. Never. Never. Never.
I say those things aloud.
Effloresce

Lift up your eyelids; unlock the chasm of your heart.
Let the deluge of fervency cascade within you; submerged volcanoes begin to erupt.
A world devoid of feeling; a world devoid of golden thread.
A realm full of disassociation; it’s illuminating and yet so dark.

The soil beneath me pulsates with anger at the core; the heart becomes sanguine, the soul is crimson red.
Night and day bear no variation and the twilight is all that exists; this world has a Cimmerian existence; a vivid look of despair.
Trepidation is my captor as the Earth becomes my abyss; vehemence overtakes me and an inferno consumes me whole.
For a while I am nonexistent; feelings are a thing of the past; I am no longer myself but merely a vessel of something than can’t be seen.

Ethereality envelops me and my quintessence is conjoined with God’s soul; I am being guarded by His spirit and with to it’s elixir I have been exposed..
Cognition is my purpose and I’m recreated being void and null ; I await my resurrection, Phoenix pinions shall subjugate the world.
Seconds have already passed and time has allowed my soul to bloom; it is time for efflorescence and I become one with the moon.
A purple aura emanates from nothingness and fire bolts start to fly; heat becomes unbearable and light pierces as a sword.


A silhouette of the light and airy exudes colors from all around; a shift from on realm to another and like a bullet you hear a bang.
I’m standing here in darkness but my heart is filled with light; spheres of different colors await me in anticipation of a brawl.
One by one I face my demons, one by one they are hurled into the sea; with each abomination that is subjugated, I become less an less of a vestige.
The past is filled with corpses in a sea tinged with reds, blues and greens; I am grappling with vehemence; now the gunk no longer weighs me down.

One more final battle, one more to defeat; the abomination is merciless and it corrugates me from within.
The darkness is a Dictator, I am under it’s totalitarian rule; The Kingdom of Obscurity has been set in place by The Sun.
A prayer leads to certitude and certitude leads to faith, faith leads to action and action leads to sight.
The wind is my messenger and with it’s power I beseech the Sun; I must tap into heartfelt desire and make an earnest request.

“Please help me subjugate the darkness! With your eminence please intercede! Please rejuvenate the dank and hollow! In your light I rest my hope!”
Spheres of light are lifted into the stratosphere and within them rests my hope; I watch them depart from the terrene till’ I sense them fuse with The Sun.
Rays drop from the heavens and the dark fortress is revealed; it’s safeguard of mendacity is no match for the truth.
My sword was encapsulated within the confines of a cloud, now the clouds have been broken and the blade is in the ground.

I sit here in anticipation, I wait for The Spirit to break free; my heart is pulsating with divinity and it courses through my veins.
Wisps of ethereality are slowly released from my pores, now the holiness will be a barrier; soon the darkness will be more.
I tightly clasp my weapon and my shield is in my hands; He tells me that I am detoxified, now the vitriol is no more.
I charge towards the kingdom, my breath goes in and out, hearts are in there waiting; my barrier is my guide.

The doors are right in front of me and The Abysmal lies in wait; fear is slowly building; time has yet to cease.
Malevolence overtakes me and evil is within the eyes, the doors break off their hinges and an anomaly ***** me in.
Strange sounds are all around me; there are echoes in the fabric of time; when emotions come back to catch me then my fate will be revealed.
Dereliction runs amuck here while perverse joy is in The King; He believes subjugation imminent; He does not know that I will win.

The dark has no bearing over that which pushes it away; soon He will become a shadow and I will lead Him along The Path.
That shadow will become a sheep whose wool is thick and black; he will break his way into nothing and I shall guide him into naught.
He will walk along my pathways and as a shepherd I will guide; we will walk into The Sun together and that sheep will turn into light.
Iridescence will last eternally and my love will effloresce; The Sun shall be my Master and in his rays I shall forever bask.

*By Sanders M. Foulke III
Fritzi Melendez Jul 2018
We stare deep into each others eyes.
Hand in hand as you hover over my body.
You close your eyes.
And give me a kiss.
I cant get enough of this.
The sweetness in your lips.
The passion in your eyes.
I want to savor the taste of honey.
I can only imagine what other flavors will come by.
I fly close to the clouds.
And I attempt to touch the sky.
But...
You pull away
And
Take a breath
And
Smile.
A sweet smile but...
There’s something underneath
Behind his perfect white teeth...
A smile so sinister,
I can barely muster
The courage to just pin you to the bed,
As you lick me deeply while I hold your head.
But I stay still,
An innocent soul,
Greeted by beautiful sins tied with a bow.
Who knew being bad was so much fun?
I close my eyes as your fingers run
All over my body.
Leaving its mark.
I'm your territory now.
Do what you want.
Hold me down, break me in half, **** me until I lose my mind.
Make my brain shake and turn my eyes blind.
From rolling them so far back as I take you in.
It’s so good, I don't feel human.
It all feels deliciously foreign.
I feel like an uncontrollable,
Untamed,
Unafraid,
Savage monster.
But...
I want more
I keep... wanting...
More.
I can't... take this anymore.
Please, make me your *****.
I don’t know what to think or do.
My body just wants to become a **** for you.
For your eyes only to listen,
And your ears only to hear.
As you whisper I love you and as you make me fear.
Fear of stopping this two person ride.
I can feel you slip slowly inside.
I let out soft moans.
But with this I shouldn’t have loaned.
You take the advantage to hear me so vulnerable.
You pound me into something unrecognizable.
Everything in me is breaking.
I'm a chaotic mess.
But I’m also falling
In love with this moment, in love with you,
in love of feeling like we are one too.
Stroke my hair and whisper me your dark desires.
I'm crazy for it, it’s making my heart catch on fire.
Make me yours,
Make me your slave,
Don’t even try to save
Me, just do what you want to see.
Keep me locked in your rib cage, don’t let me free.
No don’t stop,
I'm not crying,
I'm just insane.
Insane for your touch and for your thoughts in your brain.
This is so good, I  feel like I'm going to heaven.
You leave my legs shaking with ecstasy,
My ******* moving to your rhythm.
This primal lust overtakes me.
I am talking so *****.
I can't even think anymore
**** this entire rhyme scheme,
Deeper
Harder
Faster
Give everything to me.
Let our minds go crazy.
Explicit content warnings forgotten.
Take me in.
Make me...
Forever yours.
mindless, breathless, weightless...
stargirl Feb 2015
Ask yourself this:
who is deserving of your love?

Is it your mom's boyfriend?
The one who has to creep around,
and tighten his grip
around your throat
to minimize your screams.

Is it the guy with tattoos you see around the neighbourhood?
You've heard he's been with other girls,
but maybe you could change him.
Maybe you could give him a taste of
his own medicine,
and he'd fall in love with you
with a snap of your fingers.

Is it the nerdy boy who sits in the third throw?
Sure, his shyness overtakes him,
but he's sweet.
Isn't that what a guy should be?

Or is it... her.
Who? Me?
Yes you!
With the crystal eyes,
and heart of gold!
Aren't you deserving of your own love?

I see you shake your head,
and I sigh in disappointment.
So, what exactly was your plan?
To put all your love into someone you didn't even know?
You shrug.
Oh, so you must suppose that the only person
who doesn't deserve love
is yourself.
Hmmmmm
Samuel Evan May 2015
I fear the ocean.
Fear the lack of life
Fear the unknown sameness below
Fear for myself, you see I've
Given up on having company
I'll sail alone for a while
But I'll need water sometime
Even though there's water for miles.

Someone come aboard then.
It's awfully lonely here.
It's hard to sail alone you see
And I haven't gotten over my fear,
Fear of sinking some day
Fear of waking up dead.
When the ocean finally swallows me
And overtakes the resistance in my head.

Until then I'll resist.
I'll hold out for my crew.
Someday we'll sail together.
Just.... Me and you.
Yes we'll set sail for places
That we've never seen before.
So come aboard my friend,
There's life on that distant shore.
Sometimes life just feels like the ocean. Water everywhere, and not a drop to drink.
Kenzie Fraz Jul 2014
A small grin
turns into
a blush
as he makes
you
smile
from ear to ear
you can't help it
happiness overtakes
you
as your cheeks start to
burn
but you don't
mind
because he's the
one that made
you smile
Jindomess Apr 2016
What does it take to smile and say
Everything is okay?
I've learned it's easier
To hide and fade into darkness
And be reminded that "this is hopeless"
Than to fight

There is more fear hidden within us
Then there is within us wanting to fight
All that we have inside us will still
Push our happiness into a frown

I have fought to get to where I am
Yet every time I get myself out,
I am pushed back again
I fight and push to get up out of the darkness
Just to go back to where I began
Now when they came to the ford of the full-flowing river Xanthus,
begotten of immortal Jove, Achilles cut their forces in two: one
half he chased over the plain towards the city by the same way that
the Achaeans had taken when flying panic-stricken on the preceding day
with Hector in full triumph; this way did they fly pell-mell, and Juno
sent down a thick mist in front of them to stay them. The other half
were hemmed in by the deep silver-eddying stream, and fell into it
with a great uproar. The waters resounded, and the banks rang again,
as they swam hither and thither with loud cries amid the whirling
eddies. As locusts flying to a river before the blast of a grass fire-
the flame comes on and on till at last it overtakes them and they
huddle into the water—even so was the eddying stream of Xanthus
filled with the uproar of men and horses, all struggling in
confusion before Achilles.
  Forthwith the hero left his spear upon the bank, leaning it
against a tamarisk bush, and plunged into the river like a god,
armed with his sword only. Fell was his purpose as he hewed the
Trojans down on every side. Their dying groans rose hideous as the
sword smote them, and the river ran red with blood. As when fish fly
scared before a huge dolphin, and fill every nook and corner of some
fair haven—for he is sure to eat all he can catch—even so did the
Trojans cower under the banks of the mighty river, and when
Achilles’ arms grew weary with killing them, he drew twelve youths
alive out of the water, to sacrifice in revenge for Patroclus son of
Menoetius. He drew them out like dazed fawns, bound their hands behind
them with the girdles of their own shirts, and gave them over to his
men to take back to the ships. Then he sprang into the river,
thirsting for still further blood.
  There he found Lycaon, son of Priam seed of Dardanus, as he was
escaping out of the water; he it was whom he had once taken prisoner
when he was in his father’s vineyard, having set upon him by night, as
he was cutting young shoots from a wild fig-tree to make the wicker
sides of a chariot. Achilles then caught him to his sorrow unawares,
and sent him by sea to Lemnos, where the son of Jason bought him.
But a guest-friend, Eetion of Imbros, freed him with a great sum,
and sent him to Arisbe, whence he had escaped and returned to his
father’s house. He had spent eleven days happily with his friends
after he had come from Lemnos, but on the twelfth heaven again
delivered him into the hands of Achilles, who was to send him to the
house of Hades sorely against his will. He was unarmed when Achilles
caught sight of him, and had neither helmet nor shield; nor yet had he
any spear, for he had thrown all his armour from him on to the bank,
and was sweating with his struggles to get out of the river, so that
his strength was now failing him.
  Then Achilles said to himself in his surprise, “What marvel do I see
here? If this man can come back alive after having been sold over into
Lemnos, I shall have the Trojans also whom I have slain rising from
the world below. Could not even the waters of the grey sea imprison
him, as they do many another whether he will or no? This time let
him ******* spear, that I may know for certain whether mother earth
who can keep even a strong man down, will be able to hold him, or
whether thence too he will return.”
  Thus did he pause and ponder. But Lycaon came up to him dazed and
trying hard to embrace his knees, for he would fain live, not die.
Achilles ****** at him with his spear, meaning to **** him, but Lycaon
ran crouching up to him and caught his knees, whereby the spear passed
over his back, and stuck in the ground, hungering though it was for
blood. With one hand he caught Achilles’ knees as he besought him, and
with the other he clutched the spear and would not let it go. Then
he said, “Achilles, have mercy upon me and spare me, for I am your
suppliant. It was in your tents that I first broke bread on the day
when you took me prisoner in the vineyard; after which you sold away
to Lemnos far from my father and my friends, and I brought you the
price of a hundred oxen. I have paid three times as much to gain my
freedom; it is but twelve days that I have come to Ilius after much
suffering, and now cruel fate has again thrown me into your hands.
Surely father Jove must hate me, that he has given me over to you a
second time. Short of life indeed did my mother Laothoe bear me,
daughter of aged Altes—of Altes who reigns over the warlike Lelegae
and holds steep Pedasus on the river Satnioeis. Priam married his
daughter along with many other women and two sons were born of her,
both of whom you will have slain. Your spear slew noble Polydorus as
he was fighting in the front ranks, and now evil will here befall
me, for I fear that I shall not escape you since heaven has delivered
me over to you. Furthermore I say, and lay my saying to your heart,
spare me, for I am not of the same womb as Hector who slew your
brave and noble comrade.”
  With such words did the princely son of Priam beseech Achilles;
but Achilles answered him sternly. “Idiot,” said he, “talk not to me
of ransom. Until Patroclus fell I preferred to give the Trojans
quarter, and sold beyond the sea many of those whom I had taken alive;
but now not a man shall live of those whom heaven delivers into my
hands before the city of Ilius—and of all Trojans it shall fare
hardest with the sons of Priam. Therefore, my friend, you too shall
die. Why should you whine in this way? Patroclus fell, and he was a
better man than you are. I too—see you not how I am great and goodly?
I am son to a noble father, and have a goddess for my mother, but
the hands of doom and death overshadow me all as surely. The day
will come, either at dawn or dark, or at the noontide, when one
shall take my life also in battle, either with his spear, or with an
arrow sped from his bow.”
  Thus did he speak, and Lycaon’s heart sank within him. He loosed his
hold of the spear, and held out both hands before him; but Achilles
drew his keen blade, and struck him by the collar-bone on his neck; he
plunged his two-edged sword into him to the very hilt, whereon he
lay at full length on the ground, with the dark blood welling from him
till the earth was soaked. Then Achilles caught him by the foot and
flung him into the river to go down stream, vaunting over him the
while, and saying, “Lie there among the fishes, who will lick the
blood from your wound and gloat over it; your mother shall not lay you
on any bier to mourn you, but the eddies of Scamander shall bear you
into the broad ***** of the sea. There shall the fishes feed on the
fat of Lycaon as they dart under the dark ripple of the waters—so
perish all of you till we reach the citadel of strong Ilius—you in
flight, and I following after to destroy you. The river with its broad
silver stream shall serve you in no stead, for all the bulls you
offered him and all the horses that you flung living into his
waters. None the less miserably shall you perish till there is not a
man of you but has paid in full for the death of Patroclus and the
havoc you wrought among the Achaeans whom you have slain while I
held aloof from battle.”
  So spoke Achilles, but the river grew more and more angry, and
pondered within himself how he should stay the hand of Achilles and
save the Trojans from disaster. Meanwhile the son of Peleus, spear
in hand, sprang upon Asteropaeus son of Pelegon to **** him. He was
son to the broad river Axius and Periboea eldest daughter of
Acessamenus; for the river had lain with her. Asteropaeus stood up out
of the water to face him with a spear in either hand, and Xanthus
filled him with courage, being angry for the death of the youths
whom Achilles was slaying ruthlessly within his waters. When they were
close up with one another Achilles was first to speak. “Who and whence
are you,” said he, “who dare to face me? Woe to the parents whose
son stands up against me.” And the son of Pelegon answered, “Great son
of Peleus, why should you ask my lineage. I am from the fertile land
of far Paeonia, captain of the Paeonians, and it is now eleven days
that I am at Ilius. I am of the blood of the river Axius—of Axius
that is the fairest of all rivers that run. He begot the famed warrior
Pelegon, whose son men call me. Let us now fight, Achilles.”
  Thus did he defy him, and Achilles raised his spear of Pelian ash.
Asteropaeus failed with both his spears, for he could use both hands
alike; with the one spear he struck Achilles’ shield, but did not
pierce it, for the layer of gold, gift of the god, stayed the point;
with the other spear he grazed the elbow of Achilles! right arm
drawing dark blood, but the spear itself went by him and fixed
itself in the ground, foiled of its ****** banquet. Then Achilles,
fain to **** him, hurled his spear at Asteropaeus, but failed to hit
him and struck the steep bank of the river, driving the spear half its
length into the earth. The son of Peleus then drew his sword and
sprang furiously upon him. Asteropaeus vainly tried to draw
Achilles’ spear out of the bank by main force; thrice did he tug at
it, trying with all his might to draw it out, and thrice he had to
leave off trying; the fourth time he tried to bend and break it, but
ere he could do so Achilles smote him with his sword and killed him.
He struck him in the belly near the navel, so that all his bowels came
gushing out on to the ground, and the darkness of death came over
him as he lay gasping. Then Achilles set his foot on his chest and
spoiled him of his armour, vaunting over him and saying, “Lie there-
begotten of a river though you be, it is hard for you to strive with
the offspring of Saturn’s son. You declare yourself sprung from the
blood of a broad river, but I am of the seed of mighty Jove. My father
is Peleus, son of Aeacus ruler over the many Myrmidons, and Aeacus was
the son of Jove. Therefore as Jove is mightier than any river that
flows into the sea, so are his children stronger than those of any
river whatsoever. Moreover you have a great river hard by if he can be
of any use to you, but there is no fighting against Jove the son of
Saturn, with whom not even King Achelous can compare, nor the mighty
stream of deep-flowing Oceanus, from whom all rivers and seas with all
springs and deep wells proceed; even Oceanus fears the lightnings of
great Jove, and his thunder that comes crashing out of heaven.”
  With this he drew his bronze spear out of the bank, and now that
he had killed Asteropaeus, he let him lie where he was on the sand,
with the dark water flowing over him and the eels and fishes busy
nibbling and gnawing the fat that was about his kidneys. Then he
went in chase of the Paeonians, who were flying along the bank of
the river in panic when they saw their leader slain by the hands of
the son of Peleus. Therein he slew Thersilochus, Mydon, Astypylus,
Mnesus, Thrasius, Oeneus, and Ophelestes, and he would have slain
yet others, had not the river in anger taken human form, and spoken to
him from out the deep waters saying, “Achilles, if you excel all in
strength, so do you also in wickedness, for the gods are ever with you
to protect you: if, then, the son of Saturn has vouchsafed it to you
to destroy all the Trojans, at any rate drive them out of my stream,
and do your grim work on land. My fair waters are now filled with
corpses, nor can I find any channel by which I may pour myself into
the sea for I am choked with dead, and yet you go on mercilessly
slaying. I am in despair, therefore, O captain of your host, trouble
me no further.”
  Achilles answered, “So be it, Scamander, Jove-descended; but I
will never cease dealing out death among the Trojans, till I have pent
them up in their city, and made trial of Hector face to face, that I
may learn whether he is to vanquish me, or I him.”
  As he spoke he set upon the Trojans with a fury like that of the
gods. But the river said to Apollo, “Surely, son of Jove, lord of
the silver bow, you are not obeying the commands of Jove who charged
you straitly that you should stand by the Trojans and defend them,
till twilight fades, and darkness is over an the earth.”
  Meanwhile Achilles sprang from the bank into mid-stream, whereon the
river raised a high wave and attacked him. He swelled his stream
into a torrent, and swept away the many dead whom Achilles had slain
and left within his waters. These he cast out on to the land,
bellowing like a bull the while, but the living he saved alive, hiding
them in his mighty eddies. The great and terrible wave gathered
about Achilles, falling upon him and beating on his shield, so that he
could not keep his feet; he caught hold of a great elm-tree, but it
came up by the roots, and tore away the bank, damming the stream
with its thick branches and bridging it all across; whereby Achilles
struggled out of the stream, and fled full speed over the plain, for
he was afraid.
  But the mighty god ceased not in his pursuit, and sprang upon him
with a dark-crested wave, to stay his hands and save the Trojans
from destruction. The son of Peleus darted away a spear’s throw from
him; swift as the swoop of a black hunter-eagle which is the strongest
and fleetest of all birds, even so did he spring forward, and the
armour rang loudly about his breast. He fled on in front, but the
river with a loud roar came tearing after. As one who would water
his garden leads a stream from some fountain over his plants, and
all his ground-***** in hand he clears away the dams to free the
channels, and the little stones run rolling round and round with the
water as it goes merrily down the bank faster than the man can follow-
even so did the river keep catching up with Achilles albeit he was a
fleet runner, for the gods are stronger than men. As often as he would
strive to stand his ground, and see whether or no all the gods in
heaven were in league against him, so often would the mighty wave come
beating down upon his shoulders, and be would have to keep flying on
and on in great dismay; for the angry flood was tiring him out as it
flowed past him and ate the ground from under his feet.
  Then the son of Peleus lifted up his voice to heaven saying, “Father
Jove, is there none of the gods who will take pity upon me, and save
me from the river? I do not care what may happen to me afterwards. I
blame none of the other dwellers on Olympus so severely as I do my
dear mother, who has beguiled and tricked me. She told me I was to
fall under the walls of Troy by the flying arrows of Apollo; would
that Hector, the best man among the Trojans, might there slay me; then
should I fall a hero by the hand of a hero; whereas now it seems
that I shall come to a most pitiable end, trapped in this river as
though I were some swineherd’s boy, who gets carried down a torrent
while trying to cross it during a storm.”
  As soon as he had spoken thus, Neptune and Minerva came up to him in
the likeness of two men, and took him by the hand to reassure him.
Neptune spoke first. “Son of Peleus,” said he, “be not so exceeding
fearful; we are two gods, come with Jove’s sanction to assist you,
I, and Pallas Minerva. It is not your fate to perish in this river; he
will abate presently as you will see; moreover we strongly advise you,
if you will be guided by us, not to stay your hand from fighting
till you have pent the Trojan host within the famed walls of Ilius—as
many of them as may escape. Then **** Hector and go back to the ships,
for we will vouchsafe you a triumph over him.”
  When they had so said they went back to the other immortals, but
Achilles strove onward over the plain, encouraged by the charge the
gods had laid upon him. All was now covered with the flood of
waters, and much goodly armour of the youths that had been slain was
rifting about, as also many corpses, but he forced his way against the
stream, speeding right onwards, nor could the broad waters stay him,
for Minerva had endowed him with great strength. Nevertheless
Scamander did not slacken in his pursuit, but was still more furious
with the son of Peleus. He lifted his waters into a high crest and
cried aloud to Simois saying, “Dear br
RAJ NANDY Jun 2016
Dear Friends, I had composed this poem in 2008 after reading an
article by a Lady Doctor who was a Biologist, and had initially posted it on 'Poemhunter.com'. Hope you will like it! Thanks, - Raj

PHYSICS AND CHEMISTRY OF LOVE !
Love’s physics and chemistry, has forever
remained a mystery!
There are no permanent equations to resolve,
Love's unseen wave like force!
It travels through three dimensional space,
At frequencies higher than electromagnetic
waves!
It remains unhindered by barriers of cast, creed,
or clime,
Giving two beating hearts a feel of the divine!
It generates a magnetic force field, making
two hearts in unison beat!
Yet Biologists claim that a chemical called
(PEA) Phenylethylamine, -
Triggers loves molecules in the human mind!
Chocolates are rich in this PEA content they say,
And is a perfect gift on the Valentine’s Day!
The chemical Dopamine makes the lovers to
glow and feel fine,
When they live on love and fresh air and may
even forget to dine!
While Norepinephrine, which stimulates our
adrenaline production,
Makes the lovers world go round in a joyous
motion!
But Oxytoxin that 'cuddling chemical',  requires
constant contact for its effects to prevail!
Cupid’s arrows may be dipped in its pail,
Before those arrows on lovers begin to hail!
Creating unbearable attraction leading to infatuation,
Making two hearts beat as one with love’s magic
potion!
But such feelings remain for a limited duration,
Varying with people with different emotions!
In a 'mercurial type' loves ecstasy gets mixed, -
And they frequently require a PEA fix!
But those who stick to a single mate,
Are said to be rich in Vasopressin content!
And finally when infatuation gradually subsides,
Chemicals triggered by Endorphine slowly overtakes,
When calmness and stability with loving bond
prevails!
This Endorphine is reputed to be rather addictive,
And firmly binds those forces released by PEA, -
which are rather seductive!
(All Copyrights with Raj Nandy of New Delhi)
The chemicals mentioned in the poem have been verified by Medical Science.
Brycical Jun 2012
Cups runneth over
and over
& over
from absinthe to zinfandel.

Men & women parade the streets
with whimsical abandoned
swaying bodies
smiling,
like they just got laid--
or are about to.

******* bathrooms roar
while marijuana balconies cackle--
even the folks staying in
have their music turned up
so nobody can hear them *******.

Barefoot indulgence
and tropical dresses flowing
in the midnight air--
even the cops don't care,
this is business.
Every whoop and hollar
is a dollar in their pocket.

Each vehicle blaires
a different song
chaos to the ears
becomes rhythm
for the body-
shots don't need to be in glasses,
grinding is the traditional greeting.

The young come for the atmosphere,
the older for the work release...
everyone is reckless on the weekend,
all the bars runneth over
and over
& over.

A ritualistic hedonism
leads to a collective sleep
that slowly, slowly
overtakes us all
as we slowly fade,
for a few hours until

Cups runneth over again
and over
& over
from absinthe to zinfandel.
Jordan Nov 2014
Have you ever been so happy with someone?
But you hid it from your family
And one day they finally find out
After all the things with that person is over
But your family won’t drop it
And continuously bring it up
As if you did something wrong.
And stress overtakes you
And you just wanna run away…
To that person..
Because that person,
Was the only happiness in your life
But you know you can’t run to them
And you can’t run away
So you’re stuck home with your family judging you
And you cry every night.
Sofia Paderes Mar 2016
There is something about knowing that your heart
has finally found its place, that the peace you have been searching for
now knocks at your door.

That the storm that has left you in pieces,
that has you so used to the darkness you had
forgotten you once walked on sunlit paths
is finally over, and you remember that the moon and the stars still exist
that hurricanes, no matter how huge, lose their speed
and there is still such a thing as clouds
that don’t bring death with each fall of rain.

I know that there is something about knowing that
there is hope, and not just any kind of hope,
but the hope that is alive,
and knowing this… you know what it does?

It makes me feel like spring,
every fiber in my being so alive and kicking
and suddenly every part of me knows
how to dance, I lose control of my body
and even I don’t know how to stop me,
my mouth seems too small to contain the smile
that is breaking across my
face is flushed pink
like I’m in love, I am in love, how can you not be in love
when you know that a hope like this is living and it
overtakes you and kind of breaks you and
makes you feel like this, makes you
forget how to form words on your tongue,
even the simplest things are now indescribable
brings you to your knees, waterfalls of tears on your cheeks
and you’re not sure if they’re from laughter or amazement
but then it hits you, the word to describe it is
joy.

An inexpressible, glorious joy.

And this joy does not fade.
Even in my hardest nights, in the corners of my heart
there it resides.

How can this joy go away, when I know
that every ugly part of me
every mistake
every failure and every fall
has been taken and exchanged?
Darkness for light
death for life
sin for righteousness
mourning for gladness.

How can this joy be silenced,
when God Himself shamelessly proclaimed
His love for me, an unworthy being,
announcing to the world
that I am now His through the nailing of His body to a tree?

How can this joy be destroyed,
when even after accepting His love into my life
there are times my heart still strays far
but then, again and again and again, His love goes further?

It cannot.
And it is with this joy that my heart has been filled,
more than when all the blessings are flowing
and I am not lacking, this joy
goes beyond this world in which we are living,
pointing us to the only possible source for a
joy like this.

There is something about knowing where the source
of such a joy comes from,
and knowing that your heart has finally opened its doors
and finally found its place there.

And that source is Jesus.
And my heart has opened its doors to Him and
found its place in Him, and I am filled with joy.

An inexpressible, glorious joy.
Written for the invocation of UP Street Dance Club's Street Fusion 16: Doors.
Michal Shilor Jan 2014
my polygamous relationship with you distances me from the monotony of monogamy and makes me feel lonelier than the loneliest mundane monogamist. my mere apologies for my misendeavors, the malnutritious morals of my miseducation propose metal mirrors and castaways controlled by cutting carvers, craving crazy letters and loyalty from lengthy lies and lonely lives. lethargy overtakes and vowels reign, raining drops like rainbows and rocks in rivers, rusting relationships, rusty railroads at intense intersections entwined in everything inside and nothing on the outside anymore except these
muscles. we are back at the beginning.

my mind marvels in the magic of the memories, the madness of the morbidity and the hesitations of your reaction. his, I take, is misunderstood as my misfortune, but it is not a miss, my fortune: it is a fox in feathers colorful like friendships 'fore their forfeited and feigned approval, forced for fear of polygamy tho' it promises the purest pleasure, the most personal independence and precious pearls of princes, princesses, powerful, plight-less

poetry.  peace surrenders,

souls surprise themselves, surprise their cells, call for curious catastrophes to take place. colorful and calm they coincide with cooperation that can not contain the context of truth, of teases, of teasers and targets and tonal dualities and we endeavor, we endear you, we dare destroy the darkness of the devil in its disguised diamonds.

words lie at my feet like pebbles of poetry and I promise personal demise, deterioration and ridiculous obsessions- there's madness to be had and fragments to be written and I play with silly alliteration instead!

serious and serene you stare as if my sanity has slowly faded and I sternly helplessly smile shyly.  I suppose you are sincerely offering me your blessing before parting, so stumbling slightly I surrender…


if this is the prevailing promise of mere mortality, I'm graciously aware I was worthy of words.
Izshe Nov 2012
Go away little wisp.
I know what you are up to.
I pay the slightest notice,
you morph into an innocent, seductive puff
strutting to and fro
offering companionship,
comfort,
yes, even love.
I admire you; you gust, fat and fluffy.
I compliment; you explode into a cumulous mass hovering ominously above.
I worry; ashen gray lithely overtakes beguiling white.
Rumbling belly fills with rage and swells with forboding.
There is no longer an escape.
My thoughts
are pulled into shadow
and slapped onto earth
in torrents of unrestrained rage.
Completely engulfed, I choke, and
swirl in great muddy vortexes down lost drains.
Who am I?
Who are my thoughts?
I only have you to grasp onto,
and that is no solace.
Marissa Aug 2014
The blasphemy
That overtakes my
Thoughts
Was put there by
Demons and
Kept there by
Saints in order
To destroy me slowly.
Demons upon demons
Have entered and left
Without a trace
Leaving negativity
Like tumors on my
Brain
Inoperable
Said the Saints
And they left me too
Now I have nothing
Inside of me
Leading me towards
The banks of the
Cloudy river
I have nothing leading
Me towards the bottle of
Sleeping pills on
My dresser
I have nothing to stop me
I have nothing
I have
Me
Becca Lansman May 2017
A green entry sign illuminates the dark void in the corner of your living room.
Luring you toward the unknowns of your suffering.
Sometimes the lights flicker out. The void becomes a black sharpie stain.
Unrecognizable.
Other times the neon lights blind you and curiosity overtakes.
You only wanted to peek inside but before you know it you are head over heals tumbling in a downward spiral.
You are sitting in a dark room and you feel the nothingness creep over your skin like a parasite. Festering. Feeding. Fueling itself from the goodness within you.
The faint red glow of an exit sign is beckoning in the distance but you are too weak now. You succumb to the emptiness that surrounds.

Days pass and the exit sign glows brighter—shouting at you to run. Other times it is a distant memory. You are simply existing in a place between life and death.
The day comes when you muster the strength to crawl into the glowing red nameless void of redemption.
You stumble back to white. To sun. To warmth. The void becomes a stain once again. A dark desolate dream you dare not return to. You go into your yard and pick flowers. You run into the ocean *******. You stub your toe. Sensation pours over you like a faucet turned on high.

But only for a moment.

The black stain will always be there. Looming innocently in the corner of your conscious. Soon enough curiosity will overtake you as she always does.
You will trip on your shoelace and be thrown into this inevitable cycle again. Darkness to light. Full to empty. White to black.

The yin and the yang of existence.
Ben Jun 2013
Cult popularism overtakes my brain
Conformity rushing unwillingly, stiflingly, down my throat

The literature of the mind taken from me
By my own devices
The lure of the cliched mass' is oblivion
Fufillment of an expected mold
Individuality of thought drains away

May my overthinking of all be lost
In this teenage stereotype
Just thoughts on how when a shy individual, with all their quirks and whatnot, is tempted by the life of the 'popular' person, accepting usually means cutting away your more individual opinions and behaviour
Confusion overtakes me,
The stress is gonna break me,
the pain it overtakes me,
Please somebody wake me,
              I'M SCARED,!!!
Sarah Khan Aug 2015
Annabelle does sit at play,
In her usual, cheery way.
She does not worry, nor does she fret,
She hasn’t reason to be scared yet.
Then, the seizure overtakes her,
Perhaps caused by a noise, an innocent whir.
“Mom, it’s happening”, she cries,
With her hands she covers her eyes.
“Annabelle, Annabelle, ‘twill all be fine,”
We calmly say, with deep fear inside.
We knew that this was epilepsy,
I wished it wasn’t her, but me.
But she endured the pain and strife,
Now a part of her daily life.
She was strong of heart and head,
Even in her hospital bed.
After a minute, the nausea stops,
And our level of fear gradually drops.
Annabelle returns to her lovely self,
But we know that more seizures will take this sweet, young elf.
I wrote this poem for my younger sister, who is living with epilepsy. She has been so strong and brave, and has inspired me and all of her friends and family.
Adam Kinsley Nov 2018
A vivid ambition pursues me--
I trip, head-long, into frivilous deceit
My heartstrings quiver with envy
Solace evades its temperament

The perception I had peddled fled from me
Its estranged discourse won't stay grounded
My heart beats like the empty seconds
Here, deceit is my faceless mistress

My mind is aligned to naïve regret--
Tossing and turning throughout the night
I gave up my morals in seconds
Now, I am my own Accuser**

A mind in crisis precedes me--
There is no place to crawl towards volition
I fight tooth-and-nail with my conscience
In the end: The Silence Overtakes Us...
**I capitalized the word Accuser, because I am directly referencing the Hebrew word 'Satan' which literally means, 'Accuser,' or 'Adversary.'
Justin Aptaker Aug 2019
death calls
every heartbeat by name
making each one the same

this is your life
this is your life
this is your life
this is your life

the metronome, calling me home, ticking away, fading the day
life can be so melodramatic
like watching static
with the volume on mute
and your mind on mute, numbed by the gentle static hiss of your own personal hell
and the waves that swell
the remains of life-forms onto endless beaches of time

all time is mine
all time is mind

i look out by night
at the vast ocean of Being
and the sand, as it slips in my hands
is not made for my counting
infinity is not comforting

i smell salt
sitting on the naked earth, i draw from a vast reservoir
a deep well
hoping that maybe if i bury my head
under the beachy sand
i will escape the tide by becoming one with the earth and the stars

i try to write perfect words
with the absurd feeling that if i get them right
they will work like a spell
that shatters reality itself
and places me somewhere else
where things were right the first time

after all, we cast reality with words
and all of our pictures come to life
and all of life is our pictures
and words are our entire reality
so we must not be saying the right words, thinking the right words
no one taught us the right words, we don’t have the faculty for those kinds of words

silence and sleep
thoughts of the deep
give no rest for me
they reek of the sleep i dread to sleep
i make noise so that the universe must keep listening
i banish sleep because a white gangrene is glistening
where the worm never dies
and the smokes always rise, blotting the skies

are we the children of Cain? cursed from the face of the earth
is it because of ****** in my heart
that i am marked to die?

we stand shivering outside, in chains and shackles, all in a line
with brothers and sisters in front and behind
and every so often (we never know when)
our captors pluck one of us out of the line
and none of us can stop it
and we are forced to watch it
while they stand our mothers and fathers against the wall
and open fire, but not at heart or head
on stomachs and bowels instead
so our loved ones expire slowly, writhing on the cold dirt
pleading eyes upturned
begging our love to save them
but we can only wait our own turn

it seems that no Mind would dream up such a dream
and give it as Life
to its very offspring

i tremble to blaspheme
but i am questioning
doubting

whether Love has ever tread these tangled paths at all
whether Life ever begot life
whether we are not in fact just the spectacular fireworks
of passion and sorrow
that the universe has cooked up with
its chemical sorceries

which paint once the sky
for an instant in time

Father! Father!
do you even remember the name that you gave me?
do you remember the night you pulled me violently from my resting place
where it was dark and warm and secure?
and you cast me into a cold, hollow womb that continually miscarries
and i was born in a tomb
too soon?

it was winter
do you remember?

the dying of embers
O, wanton December!
Who pierced me with sorrows
and gave me tommorows
but stole all my todays


i inquire into the science
of infinite gaps
of gaping synapse

i investigate the substance of Being
poking at it from every angle
demanding that it yeild fruits fit for our consumption
that it justify itself

must i remind you
that i never asked to be here
and i never consented
to this form or this figure
riddled with cancers

i am the eternal thought
thinking itself
watching with terrified attatchment
these bodies which i inhabit

my haunts, my accostomed places
my ethos, my habits
my character, a socially constructed facade
my self, ever putting itself
into the eyes of others, looking on itself
imagining itself playing the roles
of each of the other children in the schoolyard


but at last, the primitive state of nature overtakes me
i’m going to sleep now, do not awaken me
and when i awake, Love will wake again with me
and all the smoldering, dying wreckage of this day will forsake me

ah, i remember now, the sound of Love, walking in the cool of the garden
when each day seemed to stretch on forever
and the night was full of magic
the infinite gaps can only be scaled
in the space of one instant, no more and no less

working its way back through every other instant
time, since it is a function of mind, is also subject to language
i stand back from the bodies of the dead i inhabit
i am the universal singularity, the one thought
throbbing and pulsing in the ****** heights before explosive creation
i
howl
the body electric
and rise, ******* over Moloch
whose mind is pure machinery
and whose children drown in their insanity

with a cold and broken hallelujah
i hymn the blessed race immortal
and rend the fabric of reality from top to bottom
entering in the place most holy
and die, writhing on the warm, welcoming earth
the place of my birth
the place of my hearth, where the embers glow and spark

December has now heard a lark
Hades, required to return to her mother
the goddess he has stolen for a season
and the Bird rises wreathed
in flame from the ashes
baptizing the Forms of our collective unconscious
with the blessed and holy power of life

and coming to life, all of our pictures bring us to life with them!

*

one can not blaspheme what is not
for one can not think of it
look again at what Love gave us
in the space of an instant, which extends on forever
since time and space alike are a construct of our symbolic processes

i pull out my tabula rasa
i am written on the tabula rasa
all is white on the tabula rasa
all is white
all is white

the waves now are dragging me in
to the ocean without beginning or end
and the depths are alive with the wind
of warm currents and of births and of sand
and death would appear now a friend
leading me in by the hand
calling me into the land

Love is life
Love’s alive
Love is death

Death calls
Written ca. 2011
oui Oct 2014
"just give me ten more minutes"
you slide your hand on snooze;
you live in black and white
and see just what you choose

then mute life's little whispers
close blinds from whats to come
radiating dreams of color
then wake to siri's drum

"just give me five more minutes"
you hit your phone once more
the neon overtakes your brain
your conscience hits the floor
Leah Nap May 2012
Silence.              
That’s the
First thing you
Can hear. The sil
Ence is just so loud,
So real, so close, so true,
What everyone needs sometimes.
That’s my favourite part of being there,
Underwater. The world passes away, and
You can hear yourself thinking again.
You can just simply: Be. For once.
The feeling of oblivion, the pressure of
Unreleased air, the escaping
Bubbles to the top
Of the pool, ocean, lake,
The clear water with sunlight
Shining through the depths till it
Reaches you, the feeling of
Oneness with the world
Its past, its present
Its uncertain future, the
Feeling that everything will be okay
No matter how hard it seems now. The
Feeling of weightlessness as your hair undulates
Through the clear water, your body buoyant, your mind
Finally clear. The stillness that overtakes your very
Soul as you stay at the bottom, holding on with
All your might, not wanting the moment
To ever pass, knowing it has to even
As you hope you can breathe,
Impossible as it seems. The stillness
Permeating every aspect of your being, from
Your previously weighed down limbs to your dancing
Hair to your stressed mind to your frazzled soul, giving the
Much needed calm from a busy day. Pushing off the
Depths, feeling the sunlight get stronger, the sur
Face grow closer, feeling the nostalgia to your
Second home where you can see clearly,
Even with your eyes shut tight, your
Breath held. Where you are you.
Underwater.
J Drake Dec 2012
Smiles, pretty hair; glances, little stares,
You're not here, but you're everywhere.

In the moonlight I find you,
    as it lights up my night,
In the raindrops I feel you,
    as they bring me to life.
In your absense I see you,
    as the faces go by;
In the silence I hear you,
    as our song fills the sky.

You are everywhere and yet you are nowhere;
    You are the heart that I left behind somewhere.
You are my dream, my answered prayer;
    You are the pain that reminds me to care.

How is it that you find me every single night?
    When day is gone and visions clouds the light.
The silence overtakes me, forcing me to feel;
    The demons of memory provoke me to fight.
        The soul and it's descent,
                      your smiling little muse,
        The moment never fails
                      to bring me back to you.
Alan W Jankowski Nov 2011
It starts with a look you caste my way,
There are no words we need to say,
I always know that certain look,
We know each other like a book,
Next you reach out with your gentle touch,
That says you want me very much,
Soft kisses and a warm embrace,
As I stare into your pretty face,
I lean in closer as our lips meet,
Where we touch, I feel the heat,
Lovingly we start to undress,
As exploring hands start to caress,
Delicately kissing every inch of flesh,
Our wanting bodies start to mesh,
Passion overtakes mere desire,
Our inner heat turns to fire,
As every inch I begin to explore,
You softly moan and call for more,
As your sweet juices start to flow,
My engorged member starts to grow,
You open your legs in a show of trust,
As we join together I start to ******,
Our tension builds as we unite,
Your legs around me holding tight,
Nestled between your creamy thighs,
Your soft moans turn to cries,
Our ***** passion begins to explode,
You scream in pleasure as I shoot my load,
Afterwards we lie side by side,
Coming down from our wild ride,
Once again we enjoy our touch,
Loving each other, very much,
Savoring the moments, after we’re done,
Of when two people, unite as one.

10-27-09.
Written the same day as "Going Down Slow" actually, this is probably my most popular ****** poem...
Emma Jan 2015
I am not a book
you can use and return to the shelf
as you please

I am not glass
you can shatter
when your anger overtakes you

I am not a fragile rose
I will not fall apart
at your lack of light


I am a girl with big dreams and high hopes
I will not let you turn me into anything else.
Do not let others belittle you, please.
Abi Mar 2019
Limbs overlap and our souls tangle in an  
   unimaginable infinity
Your ragged breath overtakes my whispered    
   sighs
I can no longer decipher where you end and I  
  begin
We lay in clouds of euphoria
Basking in the miraculous presence of an
                unknown God and an inevitable death
I am barely aware of the hours passing while your fingertips trace the beauty you interpret as
    my pale skin

Who could have foreseen this tantalizing joining
    of flesh
Neither you nor I seem to care as we rest in the
    other's glorious embrace
We were inseparable in that moment
Aseh Feb 2015
Give me words
Until they mean nothing
Wrap me in their meaninglessness
Until I feel nothing

The only thing that's real
Is your energy

The way you walk with
Uneven footsteps and laugh
Too often at unsaid jokes
Shakes my core

I'm coming undone
Too much weight to carry

I am changed
People notice

Intelligence breeds anxiety
Or is it ignorance?
Which one overtakes me?

Which energy
chooses me?
Clings like a shadow to my back?
Claws and controls me?

Maybe I'll find what I'm looking for
In New Orleans' haunted
Purple gold walls
Streets slick with death
Drenched in a
Clownish haze,
Maybe I'll weep there,
Let it soak

I drank all your shame while I was
Sleeping
You left greasy fingerprints down
My back and they
Spread across my stomach like
Wildfire, my branches
Split like black veins cursed
Coursing with black blood
Evil
What voice speaks inside of me
Now?

She says I've lived in too many places
Too many energies have made love to me

Where is my identity?
Which voice do I know is mine?

An unsung chorus:
Bathe in salt, she says
Cleanse yourself in sunlight
Stay alone

So why am I so afraid to be alone?
This one's for Mary
Jessie Jul 2013
I feel the tendrils creeping in
Wrapping around my core, my neck
The muscles slowly strengthen, suffocating me
Making my calls so muted they’re virtually nonexistent.
I’m shouting though I can’t breathe,
But no one can hear my screams from the
Deep, dark trenches of the shadowy sea
As unbeknownst creatures emerge,
Leaving their places of sweet asylum
And intruding upon mine,
Yet, I still am stranded here in this place.
I don’t even know where I am,
But the voices of fear and insecurity in my mind,
Tell me what I need to do - when, why, how -
Steadily I hear a crescendo of a piano some distance away,
So far, almost on the outskirts of the complex town inside my mind,
Though I discover the music is waiting just around the bend.
A flats, F sharps – getting louder, louder!
“Stop!” I am screaming now
Or at least I think that’s me.
But the music blocks out my voice
That tender little voice of mine.
Suddenly, as I see a blonde-haired head pop up,
I lose my balance, and I begin to fall
Deep into an abyss, a magical abyss
With walls that close in more and more the farther I drop.
As the yellow light above me slowly dims,
I expect a rope, a ladder, anything,
But there is no one there to save me.
I realize the opening I see is a barrel,
And I am staring directly into its wide-eyed face.
A click tells me that the trigger is ready,
As the melody overtakes me and
I am caught in a whirlwind of music.
Spinning, spinning, everything going round and round
All I can see is the darkness behind my eyelids.
So I cry out loud yet again
But no one comes to my side,
Which doesn’t matter, I guess –
I don’t want my skin to be a bulletproof sheath,
Protecting and preserving my unyielding wall.
I want the demons to infiltrate my soul and strip me of this agony
So that I can finally smile amidst the ocean’s fury
As the tornado destroys my mind
And the tendrils of the music pull me in.

— The End —