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Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my *******,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Martin Narrod May 2015
Martin Narrod  just now
I started working on a comment in response to "Filling A Bottle With A Tundish"

Sadly I must admit, that even for an American with a college degree, who is a self-proclaimed non-Philistine that grew up in a suburb of Chicago, IL. Where I'm from I've been told is much like some parts of Sussex(I believe it's Sussex), my friend Lili Wilde described it to me on an occasion.

So I must say martin, that for having a voracious appetite for language, language of all sorts, from **** to sin, to cinephile to cynosure, pulchritude to tup, exsuphlocate to masticate, irate, irk, perfervid, wan ewes thwapping their tails, nearly stridulating like the cricket in the thistle. The advanced undulate troche of domesticated shadows, and the sesquipedelien dulciloquent surreptitious diction and other floccinaucinihilipilification and tomfoolery about.

martin, please do tell me what a 'Tundish" is? If you haven't yet, there is a phenomenally interesting reverse dictionary, entitled onelook.com/reversedictionary , and quite contrary as it may seem, and for all the Virginia & Leonard Woolf I enjoy reading, especially his somewhat innocuously underrated novella he wrote, I also read with extraordinary gratitude Ted Hughes's The Birthday Letters, Take of a Bride Groom, The Complete Works, Sylvia Plath's Unabridged Journals, Ariel, Johnny Panic, Ariel, and other poems by writer Richard Matthews. I am still unfamiliar with this word, Tundish. Online dictionaries don't give the best explanation.

As I was mentioning earlier. The OneLook Dictionary-Reverse, will let you for example, search: beach sand. And in response it will give you up to thousands and thousands of word which relate to those two words, together, seperately, and opposing each other. Such as: water, swell, wave, arenose, peat, dirt, seagull, Pacific Ocean, suntan, bikini, The Beach Boys, vitrify. It's very fun indeed. From one Martin to another, I hope you'll stay in touch. I'm excited about your work!

Best Regards

Martin

P.S. The text below is the original message I typed before learning that my presumptions of you being Anglican were correct. Have a great day!

Another Martin, YES! How exquisite, I've never met another one. I have so many questions I barely know where to start. I love marigolds, nose-bags with oats, and as I started feeling the essences if equus and what lurking prurient pedagogy for the didactic zoology that took me and the mind of me to wonder perhaps if though I am quite certain(though not 100%) that your native tongue is English, but using that ridiculous skill-set of immense benality I seem to someone have, am I wrong for asking dear Martin, are you from Scotland or Wales, or maybe even from a country where you learnt English as a native tongue but it's your secondary language?

As aforementioned, there are a plethora of questions that this runnel of sludge and dross that've now arisen in the turpidity of your antiquary of delightful speech. To whomever invited me to play along in the debauchery, and dance merrily with merriment, mine younger docile succubus's slendering beside me, puking up their tissue paper and vegetable soup, so that my pretty girls can fit into Size 2 TuTu's, and learnedly imprison themselves into the tatterdemalion of portentously lurid self-****** and abuse. , and the opprobrious trollop-gossip the gaggle of my skinny victim women eschewing food groups, in order to appeal to my conservative eyes, thrice the child's wild idling to absorb the rancor of their stoic and noisome sedentary lifestyle in the polluted sudatorium that I myself don't use, but that these nonparticular Philistines would serve as Surf & Turf with glazed Christmas Hams for the Hebrews to eat, and another sad storm surge on another deserted quay of sea sands, and our vessel and our deserters, worshipping the Virunga, sacrificing the ghost skeletons of the million year old ape. So I ask you. If even you're capable of expressing yourself under the maddening yet advesperating evening listening to Miles Kane and The Arctic Monkeys, followed by listening to Black Sabbath play Fairies Wear Boots while we drink our childhoods free of the rod and **** the war out of our teenage girlfriends. And in the morning when awoken by the sound of Sopwith Camels arriving on the early, frost-strewn milky, azure-banded stripes of moonlit ecstasy that make for this unquantifiable gesture of succinct believers driving in Summer get stopped for blowing a rice-white swiveling consortium of dishonest affair rivaling ****** addicts, with hummus, plastic bags, and forks in their sphincters, while they autoerotically asphyxiate themselves in a plastic knockoff Mickey Mouse hat, and a Pirates of the Carribbean bandana wrapped around the ***** eyed nightmare of having unsuccessfully sedated a 400-lb crabby, Lowland living-room Silverback Gorilla. More than a primate and a prostate exam. It's like posthumously straining to push tingling 119° Vaseline through the grey and white coffee stirrers which spilled all over the floor while I was saying goodbye to our daughter, while also explaining to you why it's so important to me you love me back enough so that everyone has enough of a grasping glint at understanding yourself, that in managing to reason the arithmetic of such a conundrum and confusing calamity, a phone call free of dial tone happens to be surrendered to an independent Christian organization of the state while myself and my wife's two sons, our sons, Thomas and James, have enough free time from complaining to hire an attorney to disclose the arraignment reiterated by both legal council, city council, and the Screenwriters Guild of counsellors struggling from methamphetamine addiction.

Peace Be With You.

Martin Narrod
martin.narrod@gmail.com
Response to Filling A Bottle With A Tundish by Martin
A bicycle is the most efficient transportation machine.  A little input and I’m gliding, moving a useful measurable distance but more than that. I like going fast enough so the wind in my ears is louder than my thoughts.  On a tough day I like riding until I can be grateful again; sometimes that takes a couple hours but every ride is a good ride.

My youth’s independence was a banana seat Huffy pulled from an under-appreciated pile of rust in the back of St. Vincent’s Thrift Shop.  No school bus meant riding to school, the first 45 minutes of every day in all weather. Afternoons were exploring detours; summers were expeditions to the city limits, sometimes beyond.  I needed an upgrade for high school; I found a spotless antique 3 speed Raleigh, the cultural English workhorse collecting dust in an unlikely garage for $50.

I kept it through two foster homes. The first one kept me busy with farm chores, but the second was back in town. There, I had the bike back, and as an aside, they had a phenomenally sophisticated wall sized sound system: reel-to-reel and amazing headphones. I would forget myself in records: Sgt. Peppers, Genesis, Yes, etc, and another favorite. Just a guitar and piano instrumental album with a simple melody called Bricklayer’s Beautiful Daughter. Something about that one song in particular I heard faint glimmerings of contentment that was denied to me.  I would replay it to cling to this hint of a simple happiness I didn’t understand; that if it was in the song, it was somewhere deep in me.
Without a car for 10 years, one used 10-speed or another got me to various eccentric jobs.  

Fast forward to the life-changer, after a divorce. Needing to reconnect with myself, I searched for a decent bike. I found it hanging dusty in the back of a cluttered boutique shop smelling of tire rubber, quiet with racers’ confidence. They had a Lemond thoroughbred on consignment, assembled custom 5 years earlier to race. It was slightly outdated, but a dent on the top tube put it out to pasture. It was steel though, so rideable enough for me.  My entire $300 savings and it was mine. Then I discovered the special pedals needed special shoes, so another month saving for those.  I wasn’t going to wear those silly spiderman outfits, until I started to ride more than 10 miles and my **** demanded it.  And those pockets in the back of the shirt were handy.  I met a friend who taught me how to draft: my skinny wheel a few inches behind the bike in front at 20 mph, to save precious energy in the slipstream. Truly dangerous, vulnerable, and effectively blinded; but he pointed at the ground with various hand signals to warn of upcoming road hazards. I was touched by this wordless language of trust and camaraderie. This innate concern is essential to the sport, even among competitors, so it seems to attract quality people I liked.  My new life expanded with friends.

I discovered biking exercise could stabilize the life-long effects of brain injury, lost some weight, grew stronger, and started setting goals.  First longer group rides, then a century (100 miles in one ride), then mountain biking: epic fun in nature, unadulterated happiness.  Then novice racing, then the next category up with a team, then a triathlon.  It became an admitted obsession but I won a pair of socks or bike parts every now and then.  Eventually tattooed two bike chains around my ankle, one twisted and the other broken.  I loved the lifestyle, and had truly reinvented and rediscovered myself.

A 500 mile ride from San Francisco to Los Angeles with fellow wounded veterans helped dissipate the old shame from the military.  I had joined the ride to raise money for a good cause.  I respected the program and knew personally that cycling had changed my life.  They turned out to be inspiring, helping me more than I could have helped them.  Some had only just started riding a bike for only a few weeks, some were amputees fit with special-made adapters on regular bikes, some had no legs using hand cycles.  They all joined on to the task of riding 500 miles. No one whined, and helping each other finish the day was the only goal.  While riding with them, I began to open up about my experience.  I found a few others who also had TBI, and we could laugh about similar mishaps.  The other veterans didn’t judge me about anything, like when I was injured, the nature of my disability, how much I did or didn’t accomplish. I had signed up just like them, had to recover back to a functioning life just like them.  It was the first time in my life that whole chapter in my life was accepted; I wasn't odd, and they helped close the shame on that old chapter.  (Thank you, R2R.)  The next year I took a 1500 mile self-supported bike trip through western mountain ranges with my husband and soulmate, whom I had met mt. biking.

There was one late Spring day, finally warm after a long winter, when I just wanted to ride for a few hours by myself.  No speedometer or training intervals, just enjoy the park road winding under the trees. I had downloaded some new music on the IPod, a sampler from the library.  I felt happy.  Life is Good.  Rounding a bend by the river, coasting through sunbeams sparkling the park’s peaceful road, my earphones unexpectedly played Bricklayer’s Beautiful Daughter.  I hadn’t heard that simple guitar tune in three decades.  My God, time suddenly disappeared.  I was right back in the forgotten foster home, listening for the faint silver threads of the contentment I was feeling at this very moment on the bike.  The full force of this sudden connection, the wholeness of the life and unity of myself in one epiphany, brought me to tears. I found myself pouring my heart into praying hang in there, girl, hang in there, you’ll find it and I felt my younger self hearing echoes of birds singing in new green leaves.
Sympathy I feel for those who haven’t seen what I’ve seen, and for those who have felt what I’ve felt. The embodiment of my regret, shining with all the light once saved me, now engulfs me in torment of my mistake. As I orbit in harmony with the rotation of a green star, that is much more than just a green star, I ponder what my life would be if I still had my green star. I know that in time, this green star that means everything and more to me, will collapse and perish, but we will only be able to see the star frozen in time, that very instant before it collapsed, desperately clinging to one single moment. I still cling to that moment, the moment I saw my soul break free from the chains that I thought would hold me down perpetually, in her eyes. I don’t quite know how it happened, I wasn’t looking for it, I wasn’t on the make, it was the perfect storm, I said one thing, she said another, and the next thing I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my days in the middle of that conversation. It’s painful to admit that I ruined the most precious friendship I’ve ever had, which tends to sting more when she was the only genuine friend I’ve ever had. I prefer solidarity most of the time, but that doesn’t mean I don’t long for a companion every now and again, but lately that desire grows stronger and stronger, holding on to the memory of the companion I once had and lost. My life on Earth, my past life, would be considered prosperous; I was one of the top aerospace engineers in the world, which is a very time consuming and painstaking practice, but exploring the unknown territories of the universe had always been my passion. I didn’t have much of a family, my mother and father passed away when I was 22 years old, and my brother and I severed ties shortly after the death of our parents, and I had not desire nor time for a significant other, let alone the willingness to dedicate my life to another person. I always believed that I embodied the definition of misplacement, I never seemed to fit in any particular group of people, nor with any other person, really, I enjoyed getting lost in the sea of my thoughts, riding the waves, pondering ideas, asking questions that can only be answered in theory, which essentially renders me incapable of interacting with others. However, being your own best friend can sometimes lead to psychotic thoughts of self-loathing, and eventually the last straw broke the backbone of my perseverance, and I convinced myself to commit suicide. Originality and pretentiousness ****** me, demanding myself to end my life a way no one else’s life has ended, and my imagination spiraled into a storm, brainstorming my own demise. My most recent endeavor at the time was to manufacture a personal bubble that would sustain in space, and condensing a spaceship into the size of a smart car was the threshold between my pathetic life of this planet, and self-destructive glory. After a year of an extremely unhealthy intensity of research, my talisman of my soul, my most cherished invention, my cosmic coffin. I traveled from my home in Anchorage to the highest point in Alaska, Mount McKinley, and inserted my body comfortably inside my space bubble and proceeded to ascend into my eternal salvation, ascending towards achievement of my life’s dream, ascending the edges of space, where no human has ever occupied in history. The butterfly feeling in my stomach, caused by the sheer joy I felt, is probably the closest feeling I had ever felt at the time to true love, the irony of my affection for death. As I slipped past our atmosphere and found myself floating closer towards the stars and planets, I sat down and enjoyed the galactic show of entropy before me, and after a while the visual melody put me in a hypnotic state, and before I knew it I was being stated down by a saucer shaped spaceship with luminous blue lights encompassing the round edge of the ship. I felt my capsule gravitating towards and entering the ship through a small hole on the underbelly of its structure, that appeared to look like a portal. As I passed through the light I was being observed by a feminine looking blue creature, with bright green eyes that sparkled like emeralds in the moonlight, and long, luscious blonde hair, straight and smooth as silk. She was tall, which I realized as I stood up out of my capsule, about an inch taller than my six foot frame, with long, skinny fingers and decently big webbed feet, and a long slender tail hanging down from her backside that wasn't quite long enough to touch the ground. She had shiny, scaly skin that had a deceptive rough appearance in texture, but felt soft and smooth when her hand reached out to embrace mine, and she said, "Hello, I am called Elora, what are you called?" Still in shock, the only awkward response I muttered was, "Eric" and she asked, "Why are you here Eric?" As I regained my quick wit I declared, "Does anyone know why they're here?" She smiled, exposing her sharp white teeth and proposed, "Well, you can help me find out." I think it had something to do with the adrenaline rush caused by the mystery and uncertainty of the situation, but I caught myself grinning, I didn't even realize I was smiling, it was an odd, unfamiliar feeling, but I was madly attracted to this blue angel from the stars. I spoke to her about my life on Earth, and my elaborate suicide plan, and she explained to me that she abandoned her home planet Eridani to conduct galactic research, and that she was from the Altair race. She elaborated on how life on Eridani did not satisfy her, and that she would spend her life roaming around nebulas, exploring galaxies, researching stars, and documenting her experiences. She showed me a star that she claims as hers, a green star called Zohra, which was her favorite star because she said she could only feel happiness when looking at it, to which I said, “It reminds of your eyes” and she looked at me and seemed flattered. She loved that star, her eyes lit up brighter than the star itself when she would stare at it, hypnotized at the sight of it, which I cared little to notice because I couldn’t look away from her. I couldn’t quite understand how someone could be so invested in something like that, something that just sits there spinning and spinning, peacefully participating in the orchestra of the universe. I think she was so fascinated by this object because she felt the same disconnect from others of our kind. The lonely, outcast feeling connected us, ironically, and we carried on intriguing conversation for what felt like an eternity, and I only wish that conversation could've lasted longer. I found in Elora what I had not found in any human being, she understood me, to the point where I was convinced she had mind reading abilities, and her understanding me didn’t diminish her interest in me, like what usually happened to me on Earth. I found happiness in her company, I found salvation in her embrace, I found unparalleled beauty inside and out, and I found myself in our friendship.  As time slowly rolled on my affection for Elora grew increasingly unbearable, and eventually the realization dawned upon me that I had to inform Elora of my feelings for her. We were accelerating towards the Crab Nebula, and I noticed the blurred blue light in the center, wrapped around by streams of red and yellow light, holding the blue heart in the center together. Elora was to me what the red and yellow streams were to the integrity of the Crab Nebula, without those streams, without Elora, my soul would fall apart and disburse, just like the blue light in the center of the Crab Nebula. When I turned, looked her square in her eyes, her gorgeous eyes that were accented by the light emitting from the Crab Nebula, those eyes that pull you in and leave you in a trance, those eyes that display the beauty of nature condensed into two little spheres that seemed to effortlessly gaze inside my soul, breaking down every single wall that I have ever built up to hide myself from other people, and uncover everything I so desperately attempted to hide deep down, and I said to her, “You are the only reason I’m still alive, the only reason I still want to live, the only other soul that accepted my lost, broken soul, you are the most amazing, most beautiful creature born from the stars we now roam around, I tried to die to see what heaven is like, but heaven can wait, because there is nothing more I want than to be with you until the day my soul slips away from my body, I am madly in love with you Elora.” I poured my heart and soul out to her, bleeding out every ounce of passion and love and sophistication to her, exposing every bit of my emotions, leaving me naked and defenseless before her. Different scenarios raced around my head about how she would respond, and she glanced down at the ground, looked back up at my blank face, and she said, “My people do not love, we do not believe in love, and we cannot love. Love, no matter how polarizing it may seem, always fades in time, everything fades in time, love fades in time, ideas fade in time, you will fade in time, I will fade in time, in the end, nothing is perpetual.” My heart sank down into my stomach, and right at that moment I grasped the idea of why they call it “falling in love” because I landed harder than I could even fathom, I did not know that such powerful emotional sorrow could physically hurt so bad. I dropped down to one knee, and the streams of tears ran from my face and splashed down on the ground, like delicate little glass beads shattering as they made contact with the surface, shattering like my heart and soul. The pure agony and embarrassment of staying with the love of my life, whom I had just made an absolute fool of myself in front of, was enough to crush any man’s esteem, so the only rational option I could think of was bail towards my space bubble, and go as far away as I possibly could from the light that saved me. With every inch of separation between her and I, my heart and soul grew sour and stone cold, and new theories to rationalize my reaction and actions that followed. As a child I went to an amusement park, and I was particularly frightened of a certain attraction that lifted you straight up, a couple hundred feet, and dropped you straight down, and now I realize that my fears of love are comparable to this ride. I was so mortified by the ascension, which precedes love, that I could never enjoy the thrill of the fall, even though this time the safety harness didn’t soften the landing. I came to the conclusion, after years of thought, that I could not blame Elora, it was who she was and there was nothing she could do to change that, and instead of accepting the fact that she did not love me, I cowardly abandoned the only thing in my life that I gave a **** about, I ran away from the only other being in the universe that could make me smile the way she made me smile. After years of solidarity and self-loathing I realized that I would much rather spend my life with Elora, even if she didn’t love me, as opposed to regressing back to my lonesome life, only surrounded by a vast, more captivating scene. The only reason I am still alive is because I have not given up hope that one day I will find Elora again, and I will beg for her forgiveness, and hopefully I will be able to cherish every precious moment I spend with her. I solemnly believe that the slim chance will occur that I will once again see that face, gaze into those eyes I once did, and curse my old self for being foolish enough to leave her. I am not certain, but I can only hope that she is at least indifferent to encountering each other once again, but if she denies me I cannot blame her, because after all it is my fault for my impulsive escape. But for now I wander as a nomad amongst the stars that form constellations that all remind me of Elora, watch the planets rotate, and reminisce on the time we shared together, the time I took for granted, time that I consider to be the most precious moments of my life’s experience. I spend most of my time roaming around Zohra, which was where she and I parted ways, in hopes that one day she will return to her favorite star, to find me right there waiting for her, however patience has not served me well, and my actions which I so deeply regret caused her to abandon the star which she claimed as hers, the star that radiated happiness upon her, the magnificent star that embodied her in beauty and essence, to avoid the thought of me leaving her, which is justifiable because she was probably very flustered by me scrambling to leave her after my episode. I rotate around Zohra, observing its physical qualities, seeing Elora’s face every single time I look upon its surface, but one day the light exiting the pores of the planet grew significantly brighter, and Zohra began rotating and shaking at a phenomenally fast speed, and I witnessed Zohra swallow itself in a supernova, creating a black hole. I interpreted this to represent the death of the hope I had to once again see Elora, or maybe time had taken her like time had taken her beloved star. I allowed myself to succumb to the irresistible force from the black hole, and the death of hope I had to once more see the angelic face of my love, swallowed my space bubble and my hollow body occupying it, to the point of no return, where I can no longer regret what I had done to her, because in time, my love for her destroyed me.
K Mae May 2014
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size  
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,  
The stride of my step,  
The curl of my lips.  
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,  
That’s me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,  
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.  
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.  
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,  
And the flash of my teeth,  
The swing in my waist,  
And the joy in my feet.  
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered  
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them,  
They say they still can’t see.  
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,  
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my *******,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.  
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.  
When you see me passing,
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,  
The bend of my hair,  
the palm of my hand,  
The need for my care.  
’Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
Maya Angelou, “Phenomenal Woman” from And Still I Rise. Copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou. Used by permission of Random House, Inc.
Source: The Complete Collected Poems of Maya Angelou (Random House Inc., 1994)
Maya born 1928.   Lived Large and Full until today,May 28, 2014
In the heart of the Courtroom sat God with his Only Begotten Son The Christ to his right-hand side to the left-hand side was Lucifer fully armored with a Golden Celestial Horn which will be blown once the war speech commences. Directly in front of them sat 25 Golden Robed Kings dressed in a white tunic with Golden Crowns flowing above their heads. In the massive throne room, there were nearly 750,000 thousand Angels gathered to hear this important speech. Within the crowd, there was some excitement and yet commotion going into play. The Golden Armada Of ArchAngels was presently composed of only 8 Lv-1000 ArchAngels they are under God's direct command and they are the most powerful toughest meanest baddest Angels God has put aside for the most dangerous and toughest assignments ever to be imagined. What God didn't expect was about to happen he was about to get betrayed by one of his main Angels and he himself be tested with the greatest trial he would ever face. Suddenly, Lucifer blew the horn the speech was about to commence...

Meanwhile in Infernus...
Inrah is harnessing Infernus power and converting it into a massive ball of power by opening his mouth wide the energy ball that has a rainbow color to it gets bigger and bigger and has created a transparent shield covering him leaving the angels unable to attack him directly...so every attack they throw at him has failed whether it be a long ranged attack or a close-range attack. Sebastian added "If I were to attack the beast somehow in close range I could potentially aim my Holy Spirit Purple Flame Arrow Of Fate is one of the most powerful attacks I have in my repertoire of moves. Valerye tells Krillin to use stealth and cloak herself from enemy view and attack him from behind the skull of the dragon...the dragon had peaked power in its attack and aimed directly at the 4 ArchAngels floating in mid-air about 400 ft away. In a blink of an eye, Krillin shot at the Dragon with Heavenly Gun Celestial Ray Bullets to draw attention to the dragon. Leona had used her doppelganger to act and be portrayed as Krillin. That made Inrah believe all 4 was there. The bullets broke the shield behind Inrahs skull and 3 bullets penetrated his head exploiting deep within and causing huge rupture like holes on his head. Inrah lost power and was interrupted so the energy ball lost some power itself. Squad #6 realized this was their chance to take Inrah down ...so Valerye being the muscular wise the strongest she leaped then teleported to Inrahs head and descended with a colossal attack disestablishing his power ball and exploding creating a distortion of ethereal space and the blast was so powerful that the Arch Angels suffered extensive damage to their armor. This time Inrah whole head had exploded and collapsed on itself Slowly but surely the tremendous beast with ferocious power had been silenced they all thought Inrah was dead. So each of them examines their selves Valerye had a crack on her shoulder side of her armor. Krillin had her armor almost intact except the broken shattered part of the crystal armature which some shards cut her left arm below the armpit. Krillin was bleeding but recovered phenomenally. Sebastian had Burn marks all over his lightweight armor. Leona had not suffered much due to the fact that she was observing the blast farther away. She had once again used her doppelganger to trick Inrah that she was Sebastian and had moved close to the energy ball when it was still in decent condition. Those golden seconds allowed her to teleport to a nearby location to observe the blast.
It had been 7 minutes and Inrahs head had not recovered...Exhausted from the long battle the Angels began to slowly fly away from the scene. However, Inrah was not dead yet and he gathered his last bit of strength to go back to his Arch Fiend form. The Arch-Fiend flashed and grabbed Valerye then Inrah began glowing dark energy and wouldn't let go of Valerye. So then all the other 3 members threatened Inrah to let go of Valerye then Inrah shouted to the Angels that if they were to attack him or interfere on the absorption of holy power he was going to perform that he would explode leaving Valerye dead or heavily injured. She then telepathically told all the goodbyes and all. Then Valerye heard the Lord's voice to tell her teammates to attack Inrah. Sebastian telepathically asked her if she wanted him to use Celestial Arrow so then they all detected that Inrah couldn't telepathically communicate with them anymore due to his lack of power. So they communicated this among each other and they took advantage of this opportunity to communicate with each other about Jesus message to them saying it was OK for them to attack Inrah due to the fact he had allowed the Holy Spirit to descend to Infernus temporarily to shield Valerye. Taking advantage of Inrah's inability to decipher their angelic messages thru telepathy they readied their positions. In fear, Inrah shouted to him and warned him that he would explode. Sebastian just looked at him and smirked and said... "Don't you see Demon is over..." at that very moment he drew his heavenly bow and slowly drew a celestial arrow. So then Inrah responded nervously... "I may be at my last stand but Master will understand..." right when he finished those words he exploded annihilating him instantly but Valerye was left unharmed due to the Holy Spirit Godly Shield an ability able to withstand any blast with a power level below 1000. So there all four Arch Angels stood on the ground of Infernus and made a surprising discovery. Their power level had grown. Furthermore, a new ability was unlocked by each member of the group. Sebastian learned Shadow Arrow. Leona Infernal Shield. Krylinn learned Earthly Armor. Last but not least Valerye Shadow Clone the ability to use two doppelgangers. The victory came at last and they all four after being left roaming Infernus for 7 long days they arose to heaven victorious and feeling joyful to see the Lord's gentle face and to feel God's embrace and power ever so mightily.

Back in the Courtroom...
The earnest tone of voice and a most elegant poise was worn by Lucifer as he gave his speech. Spoken in Umen a diabolical dialect mixed in the crowd was Vhar disguised as a messenger Angel. He contacted Nebol the 6th DemonLord of Infernus who has 650,000 Necromancers and 1.5 million undead soldiers at his disposal. Nebol made a rift allowing the Undead and Necromancers inside Infernus to relocate to random places around the perimeter of the Throne Room. Vhar and Nebol stormed into the Throne Room just to find themselves surrounded God had given orders to dispose of the imminent threat if any that opposed him or his kingdom. However the demons knowing God's presence would be overwhelming Nebol opened a portal right in front of him which transferred him to Infernus however him and Vhar sustained damage which lowered Nebol vitality due to Occult technique Shade of Darkness which allowed them to be shielded from God's Celestial Light and Adonai Vortex the first ability allows Yahweh the to impair demons use of abilities and conjuring power. The second ability is a is a white dim and slowly becomes a transparent hole that disintegrates demons any rank if touched by it. So with 1/4 of Nebols troops disintegrated when he almost lost his life and almost lost one of his best Generals Vhar he was outraged at the fact he had lost a significant amount of his demonic fleet. Now with 450,000 Necromancers and only having a million undead soldiers left. Nebol killed and consumed the heart of 5 Lv500 General Undead Soldiers and 1 out of only 6 in all the Necromancer Platoon an Lv-800 High Diabolic Priest Necromancer regaining all his power and armor back and with a stronger more powerful stance now regaining his posture as a Demon Lord. *There are 9 DemonLords in Infernus. Each and every single Demon Lord has Immortality and a power level of 1000. However some Demon Lord's are weaker and some stronger even though their power level cannot be higher. It ultimately matters of determination and skill. Aikalar First of the Demon Lord's rules the first circle of Infernus. He is a Huge White Wolf with Black flames with a small blue hue in his eyes and tail dominating the entrance of Infernus the smallest circle of Infernus. The Second Demon Lord portrayed as a Crow in a rotten tree high in the heights of Infernus. The second biggest circle in Infernus. Croxuss the third Demon Lord of Hell portraying himself as a huge turtle looking monster with Bloodshot eyes and ugly putrefying stench emitting from his body. The 4th Demon Lord known as Flayiron a once beautiful Arch-Angel LvIII Bow-Master now that he has joined the Infernus Fleet after his rebellion in Acapella He has a light blueish/purplish armor with a gigantic bow that can be transformed to a sword or a shield with a telekinetic command given by Flayiron. The fifth Demon Lord of hell is known as Asmodeus a half-giant half grey skinned demon who killed an Arch-Angel known Killas. Nebol the 6th Demon Lord of hell who was inbound to attack the great palace of heaven retreated momentarily to collect his thoughts. Lilith the 7th Demon Lord is the Angel of Lust a pure goddess of seduction with tremendous power. Nova the eight demon lord the most powerful goddess of all demon lords extremely beautiful and extremely sensual she does as she pleases with any of the Arch-Angels God has sent her way so far...she doesn't know she is about to meet her doom ...
Squad # 6. Arch-Angel Valerye with Arch-Angel Leona Arch-Angel Kryllin and Last but not least Arch-Angel Sebastian. They came to the 8th Circle Of *Infernus
where Demon Lord Nebol from the 6th Circle Of Infernus.
Work in progress...
L Seagull Jul 2016
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size  
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,  
The stride of my step,  
The curl of my lips.  
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,  
That’s me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,  
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.  
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.  
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,  
And the flash of my teeth,  
The swing in my waist,  
And the joy in my feet.  
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered  
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them,  
They say they still can’t see.  
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,  
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my *******,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.  
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.  
When you see me passing,
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,  
The bend of my hair,  
the palm of my hand,  
The need for my care.  
’Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
Antoine Weaver Jan 2019
Other baby daddy's ask me where my secret lies
I tell them my children are everything from their laughter to their cries
Even through the baby momma drama I try to see things through their eyes
They didn't ask to be born
So why should they have their hearts torn
From the mistakes that we made
The late night fights the games that we played
I'm a father phenomenally.
Phenomenal father, that's me.

When I walk into the room my kids stop and stare at me
The look on my face
My hands upon my waist
The way I look around the room to see if anything is out of place
The look of satisfaction they have, when I tell them the room looks great
Now you can go play
Go outside and enjoy the rest of your day
I'm a father phenomenally.
Phenomenal father, that's me

My kids tell me when they grow up they want to be like me
I smile say thanks, but be better then what you see
You can be anything you want to be
A lawyer, a doctor, the first female pres
You can do whatever you want you got your whole life ahead
The world is yours and everything in it
Don't underestimate your self the sky is the limit
I'm a father phenomenally.
Phenomenal father, that's me.

Now you understand why I'm so proud
My children are my life the reason I smile
Even when we fight, you talk back and get loud
I say
Calm down, stop stressing
You got me loosing my hair we wouldn't be having this conversation if I didn't care
Cause I'm a father phenomenally.
Phenomenal father, that's me.
Venturing out
Into the woods.
Everything behind her
Is in Black and white -
Grey, but with a hope-filled
Blue sky.

Her red butterfly
Carries her transformed ideals
Within - it's always hovering close-by.

With every forward step,
Away from this manipulated
painful reality,

The scenery is painted,
Bringing it all to life -
A rainforest green;
Her sacred canopy.

Vivid,
Ever so bright,
Be it, by day,
Or, be it, by night.

Black and white do not exist
On this side of her world -
There's no grey!
Here, even shadows embrace
The blessed, illuminated,
Brilliant, pure light.

Doom,
Gloom,
And dullness,
Instantaneously banished!

Momentously replaced by
An addictive, elated state of vitality -
A miraculous invisible substance;
She embraces her newfound sanity!
Insanity just vanished!

Her aura
Paints her surroundings,
They are so alive -
In high definition, in full colour.
There are no toxins here,
No sorrow,

Nothing is needed,
Time stands still -
No need to borrow.

All of the brokenness
Is left behind,

She wanders off! -
Her soul
Free to unwind.

Here, she has no fear of heights -
There is a sacred comfort
In all that is phenomenally high,  
And so,
In all that grows,
From deep down
Below.

She inhales purity
Into her lungs,
She exhales
All of her noxious emotions,
She sighs with relief,
As she lets them all go.

Sinking her feet
Into the rich ground,

Each footstep brings her closer
To the edge of her world;
This is where she is often found.

Here, she is free...
She asks herself  "To stay, or to go?" 
The answer, she already knows,

The soft breeze carries
This wanderlust decision away,
As the free-spirited wind
Gently blows.

By Lady R.F ©2016
This poem was written to describe, and to help explain, the cover of my book.
"The Edge of My World"
(soon to be released.)
It explains why I chose the cover, and what I was feeling and thinking.
It explains my book's contents.
Google is the gift for
An inquisitive student,
Who is in search to
be knowledgeably potent.

Although it makes
One so dependent,
It bestows erudition
That is too consistent.

Google serves us with mail,
That saves our time to sail.
It’s services like the maps
Leaves a stranded person to bridge the gaps.

Gaps? Yes, it bridges the gaps
With all its possible apps,
The interests of the public
And concepts of the prolific.

When Google well handed
Our queries have added,
Whose possible solutions have multiplied,
For which the efforts been phenomenally divided.

With the transforming technologies
In this world of transience
Google has procured
Its own state of omnipresence.

Thus, Google has become the tool
With which the user can rule.
It endows as a surfing equipment
Hence, Google is the gift for a Student.
Off late, Google has become a man's right hand a guide and what not... well explained in the above poem.
As a stone falconer, I look for honey where many detest,
I sombrely harvest stones for my food as others bask in orchards
I now salute Adolf ******, not for his adulthood life,
I bow unto him for his youthful love of his fatherland,
In his life of youthful days, dreaming and dreaming
In his struggles of meine Kempf, to wash Germany clean,
And plant social democracy free from the stench of Jews,
His love-hate of Karl Marx redolent of missing link,
In all the humanity where education is made a luxury
And dearest reserve of the rich, the few and powers that be,
Your excellent mental growth defied formality of the times,
You surpassed the schooled and the institutionalized of the time,
Phenomenally accumulating haphazard knowledge and prowess
Of the garrulous leader as beckoned the fashion of politics by then,
Only the best outfit to beguile politics of Europe in the then time,
In your humanity there is both glorious failure and doomsday success
Whence your life failures are fountains of intellectual glory,
You yearned to wash the Jews off a reeking perfume
To offload your fatherland off the burden of exotic poverty,
A normal dream for a normal son, in whatsoever the world,
****** the son of Europe you made your father proud,
No inch of land on earth messes to play with Europe,
Your respect for African military muscle sent a right Signal,
Down in the land of the Negroes to fight for freedom
From the rotten yoke of colonialism that had putrefied
The necks and shoulders of African nationalism,
Hail you ****** in realm of the living dead
History of we the living is a protégé of your soul,
Carry your neck high above all the dead for your role,
Germany is now great and highly spirited above cosmetics,
You were born insignificant but you died significantly,
Eva Braun the lady of your head falling in your arm,
A true man you measured as you died on the nuptial night,
You gave the mantra of historical permanency
On which Europe’s future is embedded in your song
Of need for the breathing space for sons of the Aryan nation,
I admire your spirit towards preservation of your fatherland,
There are million of those that hate you in the day under the light,
But they slavishly worship you in the night with their dim lit candles
Their faces deeply buried in the Meine Kempf, no effort can fickle ‘em
In their voracity for the oeuvre of your soul, the Fuhrer of Germany,
Blessed be Germany the land of your matrix,
Let it sire and sire several like you, now and future
For the spirit of duty with which you were imbued
The sole natural resources menacingly missing
Among the poor countries of the world
Hence their misery in the captivity of poverty,
You are a lesson, a school, and benchmark
For the brave and the cowards but only the bigots
Can refuse to swallow the superb historicity
You gave to the world of your time and beyond.
You nursed and bred Einstein the child of your arm,
In your early Jostle on the verge of nuclear technology ,
While others in the deep slumber snored in crudeness
Of their culture and colonial bliss, totally impairing the vision,
You amassed national wealth in the hands of the *****,
You thinned corruption from the state machinery of Germany,
You combated communism with mighty of a born fighter,
You fought poverty and condemned syphilis away from Aryan race,
In your pure love of Germany your fatherland, pride of your heart,
Or show me normal a man who yearns to breed a weakling nation
And I will take you from the perforated shadow of Leo Tolstoy
And shed you under the umbra of Shakespeare the bard,
To catechize you truly on pearls of morality
Bound in King Lear, that only the weak
None but the weak  who attract the attack.
Brandon B Thomas Feb 2014
I've laid eyes upon a beautiful woman on my mind where my secrets lie.
I feel the rhythm to her dance the tighter I close my eyes
Beautiful black I love
Love can lead us blind ?
Though your black and beautiful
In the darkness ?
Your red shines
It's in the touch of your hips
The kiss on your lips,
The pride in your scars,
Here in my arms
Lies a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's you.

I begin to dream in a deep sleep
Where there's no violence
all love, all peace
And I see, a piece of me
From your face
To heels of your feet
Stepping closer while I speak
As I dream I begin to see
A beautiful body
Head to toe
I see
The wind in your hair
The flash of your teeth,
The warmth of your soul,
Loves within reach I see
A woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's you.

To Be Continued
Noel Irion Mar 2011
Mesmerized by days
Phenomenally hidden
Underneath the snow
epictails Oct 2015
The world is too uncertain for us to be sure of anything. Personally I don't think there is an absolute truth. There I said it. Take me away Nietzsche, I'm with you on this one. We are all so different, all so set apart in our unique, frail and wicked mortality. To have one single frame of existence is debilitating. If this difference is so telling of our humanity then why the hell do we have truth? To what purpose? To contain and unite us despite our individuality? Suppose the truth is given this way: A newborn and a goat are expected to survive with just a small patch of grass. Which of the two gets more chance of survival and existential fulfillment? How can that be when those two are apples and oranges? Their circumstances are so opposite. How is life supposed to be fair to the newborn? I am not saying that life is fair because hell it is far from it. But do we accept that unfair principle or make our lives a little better?  Will his happiness be on that grass as well? Of course not. So he looks for new ways to be happy. He has his own truth.

To this end, I have questioned everything from my faith, to myself, to people, to science even. Life grows along with time and so are our realities. This is why these past few months I've been contradicting myself to the point of thinking I've gone mad. But the fact is I've grown from these experiences of letting my two polar opposites meet. It is honestly scary when these inner voices start jabbing at you like pointed needles.I am a walking contradiction and my mind is a maze of paradoxes and questions with no answers. Eventually, I got used to this mentally exhausting activity. When something entirely different from what I believe be it an opinion, an idea, or a controversy) speaks up in my face I've learned to accept them not as the truth but as possibilities that could very well be right or wrong. I will never be always right.

People are so used to the concept of certainty that we have altogether ignored the existence of possibility. Or the gray area to which simply no one end exists. I realized that we are all predisposed to find answers, to hang on to some sort of explanation to a world so phenomenally ungraspable. It is to the detriment of our open mindedness enough for us to fabricate truths which may very well be coverups for the all too universal fear of the unknown. We are afraid of floating in the ambiguous nature of our lives that we'd rather correct this with assumptions.
*** I was supposed to save this rant as a draft but I guess I published it instead -.- i am so disoriented as of late that sometimes Idk what the hell is going on
thymos May 2015
i cannot reach you
like the thing-in-itself:
i can only think you
and know you exist,
sublimely, like this isolated love
that was inscribed in all the virtual scope of space
even anterior to the time of the arche-fossil;
a tiny tragedy promised by eternity
made manifest in the place called here and now
by way of infinite, complicit, contingent physics.
and all this for no reason at all.
a beautiful, traumatic vista that sometimes reveals
questions that cannot be answered and the beyond.
and if it were all to collapse for no reason at all,
what would it matter?
at least then, i would not need to reach you.
vaguely Kant and Meillassoux and so many encounters
Neha D Aug 2015
After a string of my relationships didn't work,
And I had dated **** after ****,
I realized something was terribly amiss,
With the  blokes I was choosing to date and kiss.

So I decided that my standards had to be revised,
And a grand dating checklist had to be devised,
I wouldn't be superfluous about this  list,
Instead I'd cover points that I had hitherto missed.

I will not date a man who is  already dating,
and for whose commitment I'm kept waiting.
I will not date a man who is involved with his ex,
Who turns to her for sympathy & sometimes ***.

I will not date a man who is constantly lying,
Where trust has diminished and is almost dying.
I will not date a man who has been a criminal,
Even if the offense was small and the sentence minimal.

I will not date a man with a violent streak,
Who's ability to control his anger is very weak.
I will not date a man with no career aim,
Who thinks having a physique is cool but a job is lame.

I will not date a man who disrespects his father and mother,
lets face it, if he's mean to them, he wont be nice to any other.
I will not date a man who is abusive and who swears,
Who lacks empathy and who never cares.

I will not date a man who lacks humility,
Who is arrogant, rude and has no civility.
I will not date a man who has been a cheater,
Or a man who is a girlfriend beater.

I will not date a man whose mouth is lined with empty words,
broken promises, shallow tales that he uses like swords,
To cut open my insides and get my defenses down,
only to walk away and never turn around.

Did you see what I just did there?
I will not date a man just because he has glossy hair,
Or just because he has pretty eyes,
because pretty eyes can also tell pretty lies.

I will not date a man who cannot see,
What a flying dragon I am, figuratively,
I am a phenomenally phenomenal woman, that's me,
And I won't date a man who tells me any differently.
st64 Nov 2013
r EVOL ution
uncoils slowly by the fire
pondering of profound-flickering in the reverse-sparks
within the pupils of shifting-light


1.
love(r) dips deep within a hardy fire-maker from another sky
body recycled and soul carried on
mind unlike any other
it’s simply a matter of Time.. holding that rusty-key of long ago
entrusted to a cavorite-place behind silent-wells whose treadle-functions heaven forgot


2.
yet what counts highest sits on a ledge of paradox
as happiness falls short upon the threshold of *fornever and never
after

there are tumult-fears to overcome
and it needs time, once again
as hearty does beseech temporal-cogs to ensure one full revolution

thanks are not enough for things that words fail to express
no specific thing to pin-point
of the immense power the discharged-missile holds
who is ever the same person in the marching of months?


3.
exponential growth is combustion understated and surreal-excitement catches
to find traction in the whistling wind.. only a quarter-whisper away
it has instead.. been phenomenally unreal

.. can't explain it
.. won't deny it


4.
the full idea has near-outgrown its twin-seal flanks
that choices came shaking.. aghast and                                
dripping its magenta-fury in heavy-drips upon the sand
                                                            ­                                            half-spilling lava-filled cups of ire            
near the camp-side        
grabbed it by the lapels        


shaking – I love you so
now, why can’t you say it?
why won’t you declare it?
what holds your yellow-*** back so?


5.
there's a power-burst in the trajectory-whirligig here..
can’t be stopped, won’t be stopped

burnt offering rises up in a scathing-hiss

  and exudes such a sweet-cleansing                                                  ­                                           

   of               ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                                           

semi-cinnamon and subtle ginger                                                    




a­nd.. love is but a word whose letters
lie
in the sand






S T – 11 nov 2013
so, yeah.. that’s about the size of it.. lol



sub:  none

none of loss
in moult of moments
let go
to see the new
Josh Koepp Oct 2012
i am no master musician

          yet i hear my own catastrophe glistening at every song i chose
not to sing
because i know i have vision, i made an incision in my eye socket
and confirmed it

i envision a decision ill have to make one day
     where i have my life in one hand and my heart in the other
one promises only luxury and a metaphorical prison
               and the other is like a lesion that hurts and hurts
but every time i scratch it
i shoots Ecstasy where im burnt, into the blood in my spit

and when i spit it out it turns around and tells me that it was worth it

that life is never perfect only worth it or not worth it
there is no purpose but to make your life absurd and horrid

         so you can make it out alive, and have that ten seconds of bliss
before the next drop
and hope the next stop is the next peak
maybe next week
or the next day
or the next hour
or the next second

i beckon it, and even if it doesnt come
to some that means its worthless
but i find that perfect
gives me something to work towards and not sit and be melodramatic

                               i want to live phenomenally
i want the music in my ears
the talent in my peers
and intelligence enough to not have to talk to chirping crickets
even when my friends are in front of me
            
i think i've found that here
it's quite comfy
An-Nita alfred Dec 2014
I can't see these saxons
I can't see these hores
I can't see these biches
Walking all over the street

They infest the place with their negativity
And the guys around, welcome them lovingly
But after this drama pushes them away
But the saxons always beg their users to stay

I can't see them rats
I can't see them things
I can't see them *******
Walking all over the street

Rolling their eyes at me
Don't know what I've done
But i suggest it's jealousy
Where ever did it come from?

They can't come near me
They can't touch me
They are against  me
But they're all worst than me

Cause

I am phenomenal
Made phenomenally
A phenomenal girl that's ME!
He brought us up with dovish love
He cautioned us to be serpent wise,
He took us to schools each of us
In a genuine dream to forestall future misery
He fed us well from his meagre earnings,
He discriminated not love among the siblings
We grew up united in family bond,
He made us all to walk tall and proud
As sons and daughters of credible father,
He taught me in particular to read Mahatma Gandhi,
He inspired me with love for Napoleon Bonaparte,
He named me Alexander as a nomenclatural ritual
To procure spiritualities of charm and intellect,
He did us good and indeed we must all agree
As evinced in the love he gave to our mother,
We saw no fearful stress of threatening estrangement
As our mother always clang to us with superior enthusiasm.

He only began to feel pain on every swallow,
Saliva, other liquids and solid stuffs he painfully swallowed
He lost and lost weight on each day as we could do nothing,
But his wisdom and sense of humane picked,
Phenomenally usual precursor of impending death,
He got emaciated and weakling, his feeding decimated,
I desperately took him to hospital and surrendered him
To a man wearing humongous glasses on his bearded face,
The community of that place called him a doctor,
He checked my father and came out with a stark tiding;
Young man, your father has throat cancer!
The barium swallows has indicated all these,
There is eminent presence of tumors and carcinoma
Known for their foul perpetration of oesophagus cancer,
I received this dooms day news with mild trepidation,
He was discharged back to his village home
He died two days later in his hut, on his marital bed
The wooden bed with wick-work of strappings and strings
Crafted from stone hard animal hides and skins,
And it was Christmas day of December 2000,
At three in the afternoon, when my father died
Succumbing to death caused by throat cancer.
SE Nummenpää Nov 2015
Taken, this only route to the back of something blacker.
I left my fingernails to protest in the floorboard,
stuck, sticking still
white headstones for things I cannot remember.
Pale ghosts of my
tenacity
before it strode cross the threshold into a gentle night.

I piled like garbage in the corner,
an anthill
phenomenally empty.
This, my house of skin,
ice dispensers and salt,
brewing something foul,
I inflate, churning charcoal

in the corner,
out the door,
heaving hell.
Travis Green Jul 2022
I have a fervor for your cherubic sunny smile
Hypnotic chocolate lips, macho afro showstopper
Beardalicious bewitching boss marvel
Your charming power devours my inner queerness

In the blithe, delightful morning
I dive into your divineness
Your smooth, immersive surface
Bursting with unerring spectacularness

I yearn to curl up in your marvelous toned arms
Let your robust thugalicious chest be my heavenly resting place
Feel your fingertips slither sensually
Up and down my supple loving arms

Kiss me on my head, let me feel your fresh inexpressible zest
Delve my elegant ebony vessel
Arrest my impeccable finessable architecture
Let me be your impressive homosexual treasure
Your phenomenally ardent hot property
Travis Green Sep 2021
Many people would say I am overly gay
The way I post aplenty poetry about distinctive
And enchanting men, clean-limbed, powerfully
Built, astonishingly solid, hardworking men
Streaming with sereneness, tenderness and
A rude boy attitude – here I go again
Somehow, I have deviated from the focus
Of attention, but I can’t help it, it’s in
My nature to be attracted to the same ***
To admire their broad and beauteous worlds
What goes on in their minds, what kind
Of dreams do they dream, what are their
Favorite enjoyments, what kind of music
Gets them in the groove, what kind of rides
Do they like, how I might coexist in their lives?

I am just a glittering gay gemstone, a flowery
Rainbow of dreams, a fabulous ******
A fecund punk who cares less what anyone
Has to say about me, I am phenomenally made
My mind is composed of enormous enlightenment
My vernacular is broad-ranging, profound
And highly incomparable, I am so much more
Than a homosexual, I am a goal-oriented man
An educated, self-validated, and self-loving man
An immeasurably intuitive man, an extremely
Empathetic being, a marvelous star in my own heart
A fiery brilliance in the sunshine, an unforgettable boy
Carrying a story with him far apart from anyone else

I have weathered many challenges in my life
The ongoing bullying that never appeared to cease
Being punched in the face, my face slammed
Against a wall, seeing shadowy stars and scarlet
Scenes after it all, falling on the blackened floor
Perplexed, threatened, feeling like I was passing away
Like failing eagle losing the gift of flight

I was blessed to be alive from that cataclysmic
Encounter, but the months onward taught me
The pinnacle of lessons in life at such a young age,
One’s that consisted of being intimidated daily
On the bus, walking down the school hallways,
In classrooms, and even waiting outside to get
On the bus – I never imagined that an adolescent
Could face the waves of desolation, trying to be
Strong, but on the inside, I was cracking like
A picture frame, going deranged, amber flamed
Wondering why a boy like me had experience
Such savagery at the hands of considerable youngsters
Becca May 2014
I am not the curves of my body.
I am not the clothes that I put on to hide those curves.
I am not the person you think I am when those clothes do not do an adequate enough job for your liking.
I am not what you think about me.
I am not what you say about me.

I am not this outer shell that you see.
I am not my sexuality.
I am not any of those things you use to label me.

I am smart, sometimes capable.
I am thoughtful, sometimes brilliant.
I am sarcastic, sometimes caustic.
I am phenomenally woman.
But what I am is not any of those things.

I am not my thoughts.
I am not my jokes.
I am not my words or even my actions.
I am not any of the things I use to label myself.

What I am runs so much deeper.
If you get to know me,
Draw me out of my core,
You might be able to see it.
You'll know when you've caught a glimpse.
The indestructible, indescribable..
The exquisite, the beautiful...
The part of me that has always been and will always be.
The part of me that lends everything to itself.

So don't try to describe who I am.
Don't try to label me.
I am not a convenient definition for you understand.
I am so much more.
Gr8Ryzyngz Jul 2018
Been angry so long
Hampering progress
Living in a dim light of my own Shadow trying to create life out of death simply because
I've died one too many times
These nine lives this kat's no feline Feminine though I am
Woman phenomenally sublime Running from my own existence
Far too long
Cursing my own destiny
Cursing generation's love songz
Too afraid to let go of hurt
That impaired my entire being  
Doing better in this life
Because there's better to be done Better to be had, better to become
I shall rise above the mere human
God created in me
See in myself, what others see
Not believe lies naysayers  
Have been telling my entire life Helping me to destroy my destiny Speaking negativity to my soul Death to my existing mentality
My love they try to use
Against me and bury me from time to time in my own mind wondering why God why why have Thou
Turned your face from me
When you really haven't forsaken any aspect of who I am
I essentially keep running from the cross because sometimes it is too hard
To bear these bearings
This hurt that has done nothing but caused cancerous hate to creep up in the hearts of love and loved ones it is time to shut this dimming and come into the light that I am known to be
This Scorpion princess
This Caribbean Queen
This mental mentality  
Insanely this brain that does not shut off
Simply because it cannot stop and it won't quit ever again
Letting me down
In my own mind seeing what I cannot device as a plan to build my life from the destruction of my own hand
God I'm grateful that you saw fit to bestow on me all the love and the peace that you have thus far and taking me from glory to glory to where you are
I am so grateful for the peace that you are speaking in my soul and the wholeness that I become not just whole but holy
Not in part but every 3
This mind, this body, and souly!!!
Travis Green Mar 2023
Being by his side is like a walk in the bright, magical clouds
A vivid, compelling treasure in my dreams, a smooth masculine king
So clean-cut and robust as ****, so lovable and indestructible
I behold his mocha chocolate globes, and I am so bowled
Over by his dope *** smoking machotasticness

Loving him so much that I can’t think straight
I ache for him more than ever, in need of his stalwart
Charming hotness, to be taken into his radiant scintillating mantuary
Where his perfectness captures my queerness
Guides me to the transcendent limits of seamless mind-bending
Ecstasy, I burn with passion for his rare smashing attraction

He sets me afire, makes me burn brighter and hotter
Than a raging radioactive volcano, he stupefies me
He gives me the butterflies, he makes me smile all the while
He demonstrates his greatness to my gayness
I am so completely feverish and blissed out
The more he shrouds me in his uncontainable white-hot desires

He gives me a thousand astounding sensations
The more his stellar silken sexiness blazes through my headspace
I am enamored by the way he stands in my presence
His captivatingly intoxicating fragrance streams all over me
I feen for a chance to sink into his impassioned heart-grabbing
Enchantment, clamp my hands against his phenomenally macho
And wondrous pecs, all lovely and seductive muscles

My sweet saucy brick, his prominent russet etes hypnotize me
A million times more than before, I am absorbed by his gorgeousness
Thoughts of lying next to him, feeling and kissing him
Traveling through time and space, in sheer superlative harmony
I lose myself In the depths of his delectable relishable majesticness
Yearning for him to conquer and ****** my humongous honkers

Lick and twist my stiff glistening peaks with his fingertips
The feel of his bare matchless graspers against my extraordinary ***
Toys with my tight, fuckable warehouse, makes me sweat
As he pleasures me, as he moves his fingers deeper within me
Make me kneel on my knees to go down on his suckable stick shift

Hold him closer to me, let my clutchers rub up and down
His long, macho thighs and legs, put his delicious dangling swingers
In my mouth, peck his belly, caress and taste his treasure trail down to  Lush eye-grabbing rug, dive into the wildness of his liveliness
Steadily working his firmness, arousing the curiosity
Of his top-drawer artistic royalty, fire up his thugness

Have him so carried away as I have my wicked way
With his savage swelling snake, fill the tip with hearty heated kisses
Rap with his mean king-size *******, make him grow harder
Make him moan louder, make his manhood speak to me
While he plunges it deeper into my cakehole

I spectacularly salivate for him, worship his assertive
Immersive muscularity, cherish the way we traverse together
In grandly indelible and poetical harmony
I ******* him harder, faster, causing him to squirt out
Sticky thick milk all around my amorous perfumed lips

So dreamily sensual, so lewd and juicy
I lick it with my tongue and digest it
Look fixedly into his come-hither flickering eyes
Marveling at my magnetic lover man as he  tongue kisses me
Takes me deeper into his bodacious vivacious nation
Of hypersexual high-powered hotness
Tells me that he loves me, tells me that I am everything to him
Takes me in his brutal bulging arms, sends me in endless ecstasies
Cali Aug 2016
*****

Just a word like any other,
you spew it into the dark air
and hope that it will stick.
After all, shouldn't we all
be marrying our high school sweethearts
and ******* in the dark
to settle into bone numbing
missionary pleasure,
just like the good book says?

And if you're not married,
shouldn't you be knitting
or biding your time
silently *******
in an empty house,
willing God to shut the **** up
as you ******?

I'd rather be *******
in the moonlight,
in dimly lit offices,
on cliche sunset strewn beaches;
dancing naked in rivers
and sprawling over
sun-streaked sheets
ripe with leftover love.

Radiant heat seeps
from my wide eyes
to my long fingers
to my small *******
to the arch of my spine
to my uneven toes,
and, my god, isn't this
what it feels like
to be alive?

You can take your Sunday best
and your mewling children,
your whitewashed walls
and your plastic sofas.
I'd rather
be wholly, phenomenally
woman- shedding eons
of contempt,
laughing like Caligula
over the power that something
as simple as this body
that I carry around
can wield.
I have made a relatively
Large mistake
In that
I have taken any of this
Insanity seriously.
For many years
I was tricked into
Playing along with this
Phenomenally ******* up
Box of stones
Being sold
As silver.
Beauty is abundant
And I will live my days
With it.
I will ignore the demons
Who wish to abolish it.
War ******
Greed
Slime
And pukes.
I will no longer
Associate with you.
To me you do not
Exist.
You have lost the battle
For my mind.
You could not capture it with
Television
Propaganda
Schools
Churches
Drugs
Or fictional accounts of history.
You could not contain it with
Science
Institutions
Math
Taxes
Or hysteria.
Although I do posses embarresment
And a little shame
For having paid attention
To you,
I wash my hands
Hold up my head
Adjust my hat
And continue to walk
With a little faith in the soles of my shoes.
Tammy Boehm Jul 2014
Maya Angelou
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me. - Maya Angelou


Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.

I am uplifted gifted
When thoughts and prayers have drifted
From lonely hearts to heavens ears
I am the child wild
The severed ties nowreconciled
Sealed with a mothers tears
I am beyond the sum of earthly years

I am the beat the heat
The caress so soft and sweet
Chasing terrors in the night
The chaos haunting taunting
Defeat that stands there flaunting
I'm armed for the fatal fight
I'm a soul that's built for flight

A phenomenal woman that's me
Reflecting only what I see
The measure of your destiny
Giving the love that sets you free....
TL Boehm
100706
inspired by the Maya Angelou quote
Norbert Tasev Feb 2021
If I were to gather my courage I would gladly be comforted among the rose petals of my lips; the cherished Universe, as a kind, caring Mother, would extend her sacrificial arms for me and comfort her with her kisses! Our wonderful words would wander into our eyes in the tunnels of secret telepathies; phenomenally laughing stars!

"I know I'm still strangely ridiculous today, and yet the eccentric inertia of men in love as men in love;" I would protect myself from self-damaging disappointments and yet cling to the tropical atmosphere of love tendrils!
 
In the selfish depths of my childish soul, patience is wasting patience! Thinned hugs revolve around Procrustean beds, like notched knives! Disturbed innermost compulsion is chasing me to confess with open mouths of surprise to many who thought they were not even known!

"Pebbles of stars stared into the black water of my eyes!" - Silence will be a white spot! In my weeded life, I match myself; the transient Time stretches itself to the bone wings of heaven as a victim! Every kiss will show golden figs, I just haven't noticed so far?
 
As the rootless flower, the moon is in the water of the sky! The dream stumbles at the moment of imaginary surprise plans, and blinded rainbows run at the crossroads! Toothless traps make this ******* Laugh laugh! - Crushed silence anesthetized for a long time, even the Humpback of Humanity! Under the stepping, half-silver shadow of the Moon surrounds the unbearable visions of the Future of Nineveh.
Prevarication permits pretend perception, presenting
piquantly piqued, pimply pimping *******, plucky
pulchritudinous previously pusillanimous, prevalently
puckish, psychic packman, pokemon playing proletarian

puppeteer pygmy, peevishly *****, plummy, plumy,
pompously pushy, pampered, prefabricated pinchbeck,
pokily plying plowshear, plodding peregrination, pied
piper pitifully peppy pornographic potato pealing,

parsimonious paradoxical protagonist, proposing
preposterous panicky pacification plots, prioritization
pertinent penultimate peroration, perhaps perceiving
perjuring, perplexing, perverting puzzling pronouncements

projecting pulsating pixelated pulpy pinball pinging
packets prompting pacific, poetic, phlegmatic purplish
psoriasis plagued, plumbum pallor pallid, Paleolithic
protuberance pronounced, psychosomatic prohibitionist,

polarizing perfunctory peculiarly progressive, patriotic
postmodern pathologically proud paternal panache,
peripatetic panaceas portraying prescient perfidious
puerile president, predominantly proposing parochial

principles, plenty public parking, purposefully
promoting pharisee phalanxes, pilates practicing
paragons, perennially peaceably proficient protesters,
profitable polygamy, pugnacious pitbull powerball

players, pandering polyandry, propagating professional
palindrome pensive peeping people, peddling,
proselytizing predicating prostitution, proliferating
phenomenally, populist persona promulgated peyote

phased physicians pioneering prescription promoting
paradisiacal pricey photographic pictures, placating
phrenetic physical perturbation partaking place
purchased (paid paltry pennies) por palatial piazza.

— The End —