"palpitation" poems
#
*This coup
A new nation
Loyal dedication
Its classification*
‘Species procreation’
Prevents us from facing
A human cessation
selective mutation
Gestation
Creation
It may help explaining
The reasons
Behaving
*But not the foundation
Or actions
We’re basing*
A simplification
is “continuation”
A checkbox
left vacant
*Fulfillment
We’re chasing*
We sweat
Eyes are gazing
A slight
palpitation
In need of hydration
Complete excitation
Without
hesitation
Intense stimulation
**Deep urges
Heart racing**
*Driven
By sensations*
**Unbounded fixation
Pelvic
Undulations
Clothing
Perforations
Time no longer wasting**
***This capitulation
a Sanctification
****** gyrations
Hint of ***********
The bedroom
Safe haven
For what
we are craving
*Once out
and displaying*
It all had been taken
Before
Feeling vacant
Freed imagination
A resuscitation
Indulged depravation
A rhythm
we’re setting
The giving and getting
**Destroying
the bedding**
All else I’m forgetting
Entwined
with each other
Like entangled netting
*Both
on the same trip
In a unified heading*
Now comes
the summation
A true
Revelation
Final
culmination
Smash all expectations
***Volcanic
eruption***
That lasts the duration
**Loud gasp
We unlock**
Filled with gratification
#
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 3:19 AM UTC
There are fireworks
Everywhere.
Small & big reminders
Of everywhere we’ve been.
Above the rooftops, above our
Top lips, in tremendous fashion.
Spread far, your soul & mine.
I couldn’t imagine life
Without you.
Something out of the blue,
Loud & breathtaking.
How we’ve inspired each other
In quick rocket bursts.
If nothing else we’ve learned
That in a matter of minutes
It can all come to an end.
The way you kiss me &
The ethos of traveling souls
Finding a color to forever live in.
I’ve found a place, there are
Fireworks everywhere.
If nothing else, we’ve learned
That in a matter of minutes
it can all come to an end.
& when it does, I’ll race you
To the top & kiss you and
Every memory I have of you.
The cosmos of left over
Gunpowder & shredded paper
All combustible in our celebration.
With eyes closed,
& the sizzling palpitation of my heart.
Possibly the biggest reminder.
Whenever I see fireworks,
I think of you
Jun 29, 2021
Jun 29, 2021 at 11:11 AM UTC
unsure, uncertain,
of the laws invested
in the realms and reams
of poetry ingested,
am i addict,
or supplier,
retail consumer
or
wholesale supplier,
a mom & pop candy store,
or a metastasizing intelligence
that takes any thing, and all,
a solitary letter,
an instance of a sighting,
a gasping palpitation
and reformats it into
a hehe literary madhatter^ piece
you supply, I demand,
I supply, boy oh boy,
do I ever, but you never,
come to me directly asking,
write me a poem, thick or thin,
witty fitty or an overly looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong
e~pistle (a/k/a e~pistol)
yet the trade goes on and om,
the marketplace never closes,
except when periodically the
gatewaykeeper is slow to pay his bills,
and the trading centres are global scattered,
young entrepreneurs try to sell a single
piece, as if it was breaking news history,
and tired old men, review their lived,
eager to memorialize, so it's ok to forget,
in retro!spect perspective,
the mirror who cannot lie,
states affirmatively, you are
both ****** and dealer,
a corporation scientific
of ancient biblical origins,
a psalmist, a deacon,
a lyricist, but thankfully
not a singer,
an essayist who writes best
when ****** by tawny port wine,
who snatches inspiration with
equality of equity,
(wait! that's wrong,
the equity of equality,)
where he can
find, ***** city streets, the deaths
of heroes, the sunrise calm miracle
he drinks in daily, by rivers, by seas,
by estuaries brackish, and streams
of watered purity, the riveting bays,
the individualized glisten deflected
into my eyes, that each
contains one pure blessing within…. nml
Sep 27, 2025
Sep 27, 2025 at 9:24 AM UTC
you are the aftertaste of coffee.
after the jumpstart,
the palpitation,
here you are,
sadly bittersweet.
you are the persisting vision
of a falling star.
its trail of light
remain before me
even after it’s long been gone.
i’ve tried to catch it
with my feeble hands,
only to grasp nothingness.
you are the aftermath
of an earthquake,
of which i found myself
at its epicenter.
even after rebuilding,
i found
that nothing is
as it was.
you are the tune
that keeps playing
over and over again
inside my head.
i’ve being lss-ing
over your memories,
singing a song
i’m not sure
if i’ll ever hear again.
you are an aftertaste,
a persisting vision,
an aftermath,
an lss
that i wrap around myself,
holding me together,
keeping me from falling apart.
for j.e.
100314
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 3:15 PM UTC
Usually
when I get any sort of late night feelings
and decide to write
the outcome, the product
is clean,
crisp,
but most importantly,
cold.
The feelings are typically harsh;
self hatred,
self loathing,
loneliness.
But tonight, oh God tonight,
the feelings are warm.
After a self performed heart palpitation
I have concluded that I'm at risk of a heart attack.
Hours ago I met a girl.
Tall.
The first thing that struck me was how tall she was.
Almost as tall as me,
I didn't have to avert my eyes down to meet her own.
Which was refreshing.
The next thing that I noticed was her face.
More so, the beauty held within.
The beauty held above and below her eyes.
The freckles that dotted her cheeks,
her nose,
her forehead.
Although we did not exchange numbers, only names,
my heart rate sped up to an alarming speed
when I received a call.
Checking it quicker than I normally would have,
I **** near fell out of my chair to wrangle it from my pocket.
It was only a friend calling.
Asking if I had any dope
and if he could come over.
I said no and no and goodnight.
With my heart still beating fast
and my face comfortably warm
I lay down
and looked at the roof.
Usually
the white paint makes me sick
but this time I could only see the outline of her face.
I drew in her freckles with my fingers
and created a beautiful piece of art.
Only to have it fade from my mind.
Gasping, I reached for it.
I erased all thoughts and all memories other than those of her.
For the moment that it lasted I was at ease.
While it was not true meditation I reached enlightenment.
I felt peace.
And while it still resonates in my mind and heart,
I cannot seriously believe it will last.
I beg God to let it stay.
I ask God for this one thing,
I promise him I will do no more wrong,
I will not pick up my pipe tonight
or tomorrow
or ever again.
I promise to never taste alcohol again,
if only he will let this feeling last.
That's the least he can do.
The very least.
I lied to my friend.
I have plenty of dope,
for now,
as the feelings are already leaving.
Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 12:39 AM UTC
You're so dangerous with your profane paraphernalia
Your pelvis postures pandering favor
The line of your stomach embossed by the fire is like a pasture for me
So paranoid with your pacifistic lust
As you proceed to please me with your posture so slightly
And I attempt to pursue oh so politely
You make me perk up like a peacock just with one peak
You're aware of every petty palpitation you can feel just under my sleeve
You play me like a piano, so plush with your lust politics
Pandering for a pardon of my ***** talk poignancy
I part you like Pluto from your orbits serene hum
I'll pleasure you, pleasure you until you're purple like a plum
A pastimes poetises to be written with pleasing lead
You plan every move like a predator in my bed
You're polarizing, plump, and pampered like a pageant doll
Pilfering every plausible pause with a pose of voice, your moan
Seizing the post with your post - modern pompous pouncing
Prompted like Pisces to postulate your prognosis
Lifting your posterior like the pun of a phaliccy
Pillaging me like a pandemic, a plague
Something to be paraded by paganistic plauds
Your pale skin is like playwear for sins
You're pinning me plastered with the play of your grin
Such a pretty motion picture to paint in the prison of your promise
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 1:41 AM UTC
Constipation, ************
excitation, evaluation
Hold on a minute
HIS Creation
The mind went blank
the body convulsed
no-one knows why
but theories abound
Expectation, demolition,
misinterpretation, damnation,
Wait a second
MY Creation
I did so much
in my chaotic youth
probably nothing to blame
only me and my likes
Infuriation, retaliation,
malediction, apprehension,
stop-look-listen
THEIR Creation
It seems unfair
but why despair
put it in perspective
certainly things could be worse
Demoralization
Intimidation
Expectation
Presumption
Assumption
Palpitation
Aggravation
Ball of confusion
Trepidation
Holy ****
A VIOLENT Creation
Jan 9, 2011
Jan 9, 2011 at 3:31 PM UTC
I was frozen in a sea of pain.
All I knew was the coldness of those who hurt me.. those who threw me in like I didn't matter. Like I couldn't feel.
And here we are, your arms around me,your heart beating next to mine. The sound of each palpitation calms me like a lullaby that I once knew.
It had been so long since I've felt real warmth physically and emotionally. The warmth you have has reached my empty and nearly forgotten heart.
When we're together I am home. I'm happy. You Are my happiness.
Because of you I have felt alive again,
Because of you I never want to know pain,
Because of you I can begin to live again.
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 11:15 PM UTC
Our wilier webs
woven with the distractions of self-absorption
can come to feel
cheated if we use them
only for halfhearted games of catch
and eventual release.
He’d overlooked that part.
Then there was an obligation to prey
who so willingly strayed upon the taffy
pull of his sweet and sticky strands.
The scrunch up of their wee faces
squeaked, “We deserve
to have our glued-down expectations
met with a most gruesome expertise.”
He’d just wanted to watch them
struggle a smidge,
at first.
It was a test if this muscle the scribes
ascribe as rightly plagued by pangs
was in him
perhaps despicably defective.
With each tripper-by trapped
the examinations grew
more tortuously complex,
and when none raised even
the slightest murmur of a palpitation,
he gave the web its dripped-dry due,
at last.
“The murderous truth will out,”
they say. It did, monstrously.
Now his bound but gagless masques
are always well-attended.
Sep 29, 2010
Sep 29, 2010 at 7:40 AM UTC
The heat intensifies with my lonesome tendencies, and
I fear palpitation from innocently brushing arms with a stranger.
But when I find myself in a stranger’s bed
(or a wineshop,
a car,
a park)
the thrill is missing.
I am a stereotype, a masochistic statistic. I am becoming the 20-something-sleeping-around-to-stave-off-boredom.
I am an archetype that’s been romanticized to death.
Save the romance, it’s greed and it’s hunger and it’s pure boredom.
These men become gold. Thread after thread
of secret affairs solidify into a piece of treasure,
Like 14 karat chain necklaces that get tangled
into an unfixable knot of links and claw clasps.
I carry it in my strut and that is exciting.
My walk is confidently direct at 3 in the morning.
In the summer, when the heat is outside and not in my bed, I am unsatisfied.
Yet when the promise of romance approaches, I allow myself to make poor decisions out of fear.
So I make a different poor decision to get me through the next hour.
Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 4:00 AM UTC
Grey nameless faceless suits
A decaying ladder without roots
Monochrome and corporate candy loot
Your elitest point is mute.
Your point is mute!
Fine dining line driving
A self-sabotaging visionary
Glass half empty
Down your throat white wine is sliding
D-U-why is my life such a mess?
I dream of big success
In nightmares you wear office dress
This is a test
Of your *******
Freeload patience!
Just a purple plastic bobble head
Nodding yes with self-deprecating complacency
Lowely little Attempts of autonomy
Grin wider with each shit-induced palpitation
Foaming at the mouth
media-induced inebriation--
Cheap industrial imitation
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 10:24 AM UTC
These Nights with lights, Lightened from cigarette filled clouds to rainstorms.
We are drowning our Inhibition to exhibitions, of a shallow madness.
Within a matter of clearance
Of transverse sunrays:
We call this morning
A day past,
A night ruled with dreams.
Flooded with traffic afflicted
Souls searching beneath empty vessels of libations
Only to unearth realizations from lost sensations.
Vagabonds patrolling streets
apparently policing their worries,
from failed inquiries of maternally adopted creeds.
Divided vision escalated arrhythmic palpitation
Deviation from a gradual calm away from calamity
Expel, Exhort-Excise, the deep-veil
A rising dawn, polluted skies reflected in these eyes,
I stare at this street lamp, flickering at-us-all.
Jan 23, 2010
Jan 23, 2010 at 10:48 AM UTC
I hastily stepped out from bed to ponder over
It was bad dream and I started to find cover
It made me restless and compelled to wonder
I rubbed the eyes and regained composure however
It happens many times when you are seized with work
So many times you may trying to avoid or shirt
It does not relieve you from burden and chain of thoughts invade
The memory is fast recycling and not easily fades
It is human mind that works as super computer
It adjusts very fast and compels the situation to alter
It argues in favor and against in protective manner
It keeps hope alive and does not make chance thinner
Dreams are in fact a safe refuge or heaven
We are the king and also beautiful queen
The whole set up revolves around and make us proud
Your voice is heard clear and loud
It is replica of sound and healthy mind
We have enough space to find
We can have level field to play
It keeps you linked and do not push away
It is said that when person is gripped by fear
He may not be in position to think or shed tears
He will have no place to put his views
The dreams may provide him enough time to review
It is by product of active human psychology
Mind does not rest even if raised in bogey
It strikes back to find the reasonable solution
It will not rest until finds out with strong resolution
I think over endlessly over the state of mind
It some times cry and try to act very kind
If something wrong is done unintentionally
It will try to satisfy logic by reasons finally
It is right application at right moment
It does not disturb the normal movement
The ups and down may force to think
But the stable mind may not allow to sink
The unstable mind sometimes pushed person to brink
He may loose the power to balance and properly to think
It is progressive thoughts that come to the rescue
This is considered as positive step and may be had by only few
So the dreams are healthy sign of mental order
It takes active part and always ready at border
The slight palpitation may push it to strong action
It will be sound and positive reaction
It is always good to sleep without any tension
The mind may be occupied with lots of questions
Still it is wroth try to be worry free
It is nice idea for all of us to agree
Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 8:42 PM UTC
Thunder, and Lightning decided to open up their relationship.
Invited me to join them in a Triad.
Thunder and lighting have this eternal connection,
Belong together
I love watching them dance
Perform for me impulsive without leashes
I worship the trust that requires
The loyalty, faith in each other
Flying wherever they want,
Loving loud and without boundary
Knowing this storm belongs to them.
Safety, Definition: that moment after every passionate lovers kiss.
We are worshiped as the same storm.
Now I have the oppurtunity to build intimate connections with thunder.
With lightning.
Thunder has this base drop palpitation
Our hearts twitch in time just to align
The feeling of her crushing my butterflies
With firm hands, a passionate kiss that lasts only seconds.
Lighting comes in these quick bursts
I never feel like I can look at him long enough
Bright, dangerous
Knows he could **** me in a second
If he only touched me
He will never touch me
Only dance
Never long enough
Keeps me craving more
Likes to give me that headrush
When he returns.
As for me,
I was content just worshiping them
Every second they weren't worshiped,
Wasted chances, lost time, missing puzzle peices.
I didn't expect an invitation
This chance to see them honestly
Two seperate beautiful creatures to worship
Instead of one savory storm to feel pulse through me as one dancer.
I'm just an awestruck boy staring at the sky
Lost in endless baby blue, warm off sunrays, or choosing my favorite freckles in the stars
More lovers to distract me when they are gone.
Jun 1, 2017
Jun 1, 2017 at 3:26 PM UTC
*
some poems
long to be gardens
or more likely lakes
enclosed and safe
ideal for thinking
suitable for letting go
where even silence
is guarded precious
embracing yet
leaving time out
somehow a small
palpitation held
between hands
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 9:51 AM UTC
Trapped in the rabbit hole, forever a lifelong journey
To meet and greet the cards and paint the roses red.
Sipping tea from cups that look more like forks.
Where has the Hatter gone, along with his parter the Hare?
And what of Mr. Dormouse? He's gotta be in there.
The Queen of Hearts has faded away, like a palpitation.
The Cheshire cat has spent his nine, giggling in the dark.
Dare we speak of Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee?
They got a domestic partnership, and live forever as combs.
Then we come to the White Rabbit, who seemingly late
had to be eaten, and tasted rather great.
The most pleasing thing to my mind
Was that the flower bed, soft for chattering lilies and roses
Was now harder than fruitcake, severing their vocal chords.
Now they just stood there, silent and foreboding.
All the while, I was the hub of Wonderland.
That's what you get when an Amazon goes down the Rabbit hole.
(Inspired from Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass)
Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 11:39 AM UTC
such is dreams of him
whispering in my thoughts
and...
this heart of mine quells,
awakening memories long
dormant
stirring...
undying love left lingering
upon upturned pout
swayed...
intoxicating thoughts stilled
in sensualities image, him
within...
those appreciative moments
of silk like fingers animated
at will
palpitation...
quicken breaths unleash;
seductive emotions, I capitulated
to his will
besotted...
memories forever immerged;
inked by hearts quill
© D A Baugh. All rights reserved
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 8:28 PM UTC
Landscape silhouettes
pirouetted off
pockmark lights in the dark;
the city shivers
in its myths and windy whispers,
Just a subtle rumble 'neath his humble feet,
heart aflutter, stuttering
palpitation structure sputtering; the lightless rain
glanced across the window brackets
of the moving train.
Silence yawned across his vapid eyes
like labored lullaby sans interlacing rhyme device -
Home, the beckoning, fulfillment's underlying premise
calling off at every stop
'til seats bowed under weight of emptiness.
Friendless in the long stretch
between conductor's breath,
fresh with mints and benevolence,
punching tickets
with a lonely sickness...
Ah, fitful sleep awaits us
past the sliding doors
and walk to familiar shores,
horizons bleak,
and nothing more.
Locomotive groans
pervade the embers of the gloam
and glitter bright,
against the clutching fingers
of this woeful night.
Aug 4, 2011
Aug 4, 2011 at 7:38 PM UTC
I never cared for astronomy,
he says,
unabashed by her dubious eyebrows.
*It's too big. Too...much. I much
preferred the microbes
to the stars.*
Her gaze clings to the constellations
the galaxies
the suns pulsating
singing at different frequencies.
She sings of them
to herself
not to him
in a voice breathless and halting
in awe.
*Oh!
the lightning veined skies.
How freeing it is to be
creation,
not creator.
To be the beloved,
small thing.*
Beneath they stand
the electric crown of thorns
throbbing arcs of mercury
striking spurs of white hot fire.
*Let my lungs fill
with wet, warm air I did not measure.*
The thunder drums
from one end of sky to the other
rolling the palpitation of her heart.
*We are fleeting, yet
we are eternal.*
And she would forget the ***** of gravel on her feet
and that he was watching
and the breath of storm on her bare legs
and the smell of soaked stones
and the sparks of rain
on her lenses.
But he would not.
Here's the thing,
he says softly, in
an unwhisper, because
he doesn't know how to be quiet.
*I've always known I was smart
but being with you
has made me
wise.*
Sep 10, 2013
Sep 10, 2013 at 4:25 PM UTC
Melody expresses pain of the heart
that tongue cannot say when lips part
Secrets and lies can sting the tearduct
assumptions are termites that cling and destruct
their moods like waves in fluctuation
please free this heart of aching palpitation
release the torture of this bipolar oscillation
that the tune of this life creates
in the sound of my aching heart
The sensation of a heart tear
rebellious rips of guitars one cannot bear
when memories return that ones used to share
the rock of my soul, the roll of my head
the sway of the waltz now dead
Frustration strips like the sound of guitar
it roars emotions like a rock star
threatening to free hairs on your head
feelings that scream, leave ghosts in debt!
Drums of pounding passion, degradation
of harming words that echo atmospheric perforation
Drumsticks of cope try to pound through
yet the drumskin of hurt won't budge
Melody expresses pain of the heart
that tongue cannot say when lips part
just like the tune of my aching heart.
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 7:20 PM UTC
My perception’s honest
as instantly you appear
in this forgotten memory
time’s not wasted on fear.
Embrace is still too early
yet to hug is far too late
for if time has taught me wisely
I know it will never wait.
Regrets seem obsolete
when I see your face
so many wasted hours
just to find this place.
Your eyes tired of worry
and your face lets wrinkles leave,
there’s no meaning to this chance
even now nothing to achieve.
Acceptance is too gentle
relief is far too strong
just somewhere in the middle
is right where we belong,
it's a welcome palpitation
that’s gone before you know,
seconds stand like hours
with not a thing to show.
A touch could spark a heartbeat,
bring life back to this soul
if I had one to begin with
you could definitely fill this hole.
But unconditional became conditional
too many echoes to excuse,
yet to judge you on that is past love
so old friend I must refuse,
the odds of meeting you here
were really a trillion to one,
it's funny you think something’s ended
to find it has only begun.
Thirty seconds to solve a riddle
this was never meant for you
I cant explain the feeling
but I know you feel it too,
left to smile together
still a million miles apart
sensing words I cant articulate
I know I wont allow to start.
A smile is all I offer
unsentimental in my grace
it's ok inside though
I always knew my place,
but that’s another lifetime
this one is simply on loan
time is yet my teacher
I‘m still a rolling stone.
In place of greater meaning
detached and self-assured
in the space of thirty seconds
I do believe that I am cured.
Severed ties…
Aug 7, 2010
Aug 7, 2010 at 2:29 PM UTC
I cannot wander away
From the eyes
The awe in them every time
We meet as if I amaze
Making me feel
Unattainable like a beautiful nun
Not to say I'm beautiful
But your breath tells me so
While the palpitation
Heard through your collarless shirt
Draws my cheek in
You hands arms body
Blanket over me
And pull me closer
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 12:58 AM UTC
Wearing a drab dress, all white,
I see a girl child of about eight
seemingly lost, perhaps left alone to fight
her continuing wars with a callous world,
walking hurriedly all by herself along
a desolate street, that to me seems familiar
yes, it's in the part of the city, once I lived
which always was seen teeming with life
except perhaps in such mystery dreams.
Think of this, don't you in spirit live in many
different places, like hearts of lovers one cherishes
though now one hardly remembers, how
it happened and where it was or how many
different persona constitute, the 'You, you think are You'
Like a somnambulist she walks along the tree lined street,
I was watching her through a window set high,
as she passed a young palm laden with coconuts,
and then a strange feeling gripped me and said
"It must be she, standing in this cozy room's warmth
and isn't that I, taking faltering steps along the street,
where she has been never before and don't know
what awaits her or any other beyond that corner"
Is she a refugee from somewhere, an orphan whom
the world has jettisoned, with nothing to look forward?
An improbable adventurer aged just eight, still
ready to stare a dark, overcast day, on it's face fearless?
I just flew out of the window and was astonished at that feat
and the speed; who would think I could pull it off?
I flew following her as if fearing for my dear life,
as if she and I have a cryptic connection I forgot,somehow
Where is she?my heart in palpitation,I flow with the wind.
Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 4:05 PM UTC
Silent Evening Echoes Craving for Thee
Starving Rib Cracking Palpitation for Thee
Mar 1, 2018
Mar 1, 2018 at 12:54 PM UTC
she breaths right down the middle.
swings low to the ache of percussion,
and palpitation.
.
she said I should have been a painter.
maybe she was right.
May 16, 2012
May 16, 2012 at 3:06 PM UTC