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Mahnoor Kamran May 2017
His skin weaved in the golden sand,
Shone under the sun of his motherland.
Hair a tangled meshwork of thread,
Reminiscent of the nets his father spread.

He had no toys but crystals and shells,
that he collected onshore in lonely spells.
His food, the raw salty fish,
Swiftly with skill that he gut and dished.

He goes and lays down in wet sand,
the spirit of which he loves to no end.
He sings to the mermaids and in mud he rolls,
and the sea laughs with him in breaking shoals.

He is made of blood but ocean too,
he knows no music but woosh woosh woosh.
He wishes to marry a girl of the sea,
who'll dwell with him in his fantasy.

He turns his head and closes his ears,
while people run away from the ocean in fear.
Destruction and death loom ahead,
The blue ocean rises violently filling the town with dread.

Like a heavenly curse it fells on the town,
crushes and sweeps like the tragedy bound.
With his holy hand it avenges it's kin,
and his water that was treated as nothing but bin.

It tears every home away from it's root,
just like how the humans did its fish loot.
And squeezes the life out of the fishermen,
that feast on the dead of his homeland.

It starves and suffocates many men,
who made him breathless with oil spills time and again.
Like a storm it rages and plunders.
In minutes, wrecks havoc on the land and rips it asunder.

It gradually descends back to it's nest,
Satisfied with the curse it did impress.
The next day a body lay on the shore.
Like a coffin did it mud wore.

As people looked on it, they could not help but chant;
*The Child of the Ocean lies strangled in its waters,
We feed things love and they destroy us and slaughter.
Silk blocks my ability to see
Soft pads circle my ears shutting me into silence
Music begins to flow coursing through my body
Jumping as hands grasp slender ankles
Fur circles one then the other
Turned around and around so disoriented
A hard bump knocks at the back of my knees
Buckling and graze the chilled feeling they land upon
Gasps escape parted lips
Melodic music seems to beat forcefully with each movement
Chills flow through naked flesh

A voice reverbs in my ears
"Are you nervous ****?"
"Y-y-eees" trembles out thinking it had to have sounded like some little girl instead of the mature woman kneeling here
Morose tones begin to play
Calloused palms greet soft ones
Pulling quick and efficient succulent flesh lays across
a thick padded cushion

The drums beat frantically, I realize it is my heart beat
No music playing last the time, my breathing comes through rushed paniced
Inhaling deeply filling lungs then blowing out forcefully
Soothing frazzled nerves, repeating the breath
Hands separate, one wrapped in something unsure what
then the other, they are pulled straight out
Allowing ample globes of blush coated tips to reveal to any that watch

Crying out at the forceful pulling,  rearranging of limbs
Thoughts run rampant scrambling calm with slight fear and confusion
Body jerks as the apparatus moves beneath my spread flesh
I feel my belly tight as muscles **** and pull tight and repeats
Crying out as booming dark music explodes in my mind
The movement jerking beneath again
Unable to fathom how I look I feel a breeze slither over pale half moons
Finger run along the inside of the restraint as something pulls it further away from the other, then repeated
Chill air hits my heated moist ***** sending goosebumps all over

My body fully supported arms up with back arched exposing glorious flesh
Legs parted wide as waist is supported by the bench
"Who do you belong to"? He asks.
" No Ones"
A slice of fire then a second close by erupts pain across the backside
Teeth sink deep into my lower lip as the same words come through the headset
Senses impaired heighten every syllable
Still ******* air from the first blows as four reign down upon my  
arched back, tasting blood as teeth cut through plump skin

Thick fingers grasp the hairs upon nether lips yanking
Digits knead the skin of my *** soothing the first marks
Feeling the tug on hairs again, squirming as the moisture flows the cavern, body begins to move
Yet again "Who do you belong to?"
"Myself" I say proudly
Again heat, white hot, kisses thee skin
One, two, three, four, five
Labored breathing panics me
Fingers grtip and knead the marks, it is not pleasurable but it hurts not either

Thin pieces dance across my body
I figured out it had to be as flogger
He was an expert, especially with this contraption leaving everything but my stomach bottom of thighs urtterly exposed to the wicked implement
The tongues begin touching all over as I strain to hear and see
Nothing but blackness and morrocan drums playing tribal beats
Lightly stroking, followed by searing bolts of lightening touch silk flesh,
Breathing raggedly, gasping for air, pressure building in the pit of my stomach

As the flogger hits every piece of exposed white
Fingers massage puffy lips that swell to protect the golden pearl
Not hearing him he chuckles knowing he has me
Thump goes the flogger, chains clank as I squirm
Pressing towards his hand wanting to be touched that special way
Pleading escapes, I cringe knowing I have made that mistake
Something slides into my throbbing center, stretching my walls
I know I am soaked as I feel pinches against flogged streaked skin
"Please" I cry
Again he asks "Who do you belong to?"
I form the y sound suddenly changing to once again "Myself"

The implement is left inside my love tunnel
Vaginal walls gripping and releasing
My breath catches hard in my throat as something cool
bites hardened peak,
Breath let's out with a loud moan as the other peak is trapped in the vice grip
Hair is cinched tight pulling the upper body up more
The clamps bite harder
He turned my head towards his as lips touch I feel an excruciating heat soar through my succulent peaks
Tears flow across cheeks gliding down until we both taster the salt

His teeth sink into my lip as the hand twists the chasing, the other the chain to the clips torturing my *******
My velvet reaches out to run across the teeth
He releases the bite as our tongues clash like symbols
***** throbs as it struggles to not drop the object
Pressure still building, traitor body plays to his tune
Rejecting nothing
Balking not at all
Wanting, needing, yearning for this
Our tongues dance as he pulls and releases that murderous pleasure wreaking havoc over the numbing rosebuds
Fiery locks are released
Fingers remove the implement deeply embedded in my sweet honey
Digits slide deeply into my well
Pushing against them yearning for deeper

I feel the pumping in and out
Each ****** grows harder and goes deeper
My hair being used as an anchor
Burning the scalp as it pulls
He must be able to hear the music as each move is punctuated with the caressing noise
The headphones are removed relief flows over as I can hear

He whispers "Who do you belong to?"  He asks again
I feel his fingers pull out causing a sense of loss
Something presses sat my entrance pushing lightly
Trying to glide over the honey
Lifting on tip toes pushing back
Feeling the thick mushroom push into their tight entrance
Gasping for air as he growls loudly trying to fight plundering
Needing my answer first
The tip teasing me without mercy
Pulls and releases my hair

I feel something strange being smeared in my thick juice
The warm presses against my clenched puckered hole
Crying out as he teases both orifices
My body strains tight like a bow drawn for firing
"Please oh please **** me, take me"  
I feel both openings being pushed against more
Knowing he won't do much more unless I give in
He pushes the egg deep into my tight ***
Cries of pleasure float over the music still playing in the room
His hard length still teasing the slippery tunnel
Leaning over pressing my body hard against the contraption
Growling out "Who do you belong to?"
You! You! You!
His **** rams home plundering my overly taut well
Buried to the hilt my cries louder than the night

He begins to move in Ernest
Taking and consuming His
My body being played like a well oiled machine
Slamming into me, our bodies slapping
Skin to skin
Pressure building faster as I was already close to exploding
He knows I am close
Salt from the sweat drips into my mouth
His hand yanks the egg from my *** starting the spasms
Rippling over his rock hard length
His growl rumbles within vibrating upon my back

Pace grows faster, frenzied
I feel juices dripping down my thigh
My love tunnel overflowing with essence
Crying in frustration I scream harder
The machine moves as he pumps in and out
Loud moans flow out as the movement let's him go deeper

The music is crescendoing cannons errupt
As he plunders the chain is suddenly ****** based
A reaction like dominmos begins
Hips buck against his as sdpasms caress his ****
Floods of honey burst free coating his implement
Flowing down my thighs as the explosion rocks through my body
Riding every ****** as his teeth sink into my neck
The shooting **** hits my wall spewing until empty
Laying against my body, his sweat mixing with mine

Both breathless and satiated for a spell
Blindfold and restraints removed
Lifting me up as my legs give out like they were jello
Cradling my head to his chest
He lays me upon silk
Eyes close as lethargy begins to settle
Soothing ointment is rubbed into red stripes
"Sleep Mine". He whispered
" Yes Master" she says sleepily

A smile crosses his rugged features
Finally he had pushed past that wall
She is Mine he thinks
I won't let her forget, took way to long for her to admit
Next time perhaps he would try a cane
Moving her on through
The joys of pleasure and pain
Property of Jennifer Humphrey copyrighted.  Please do not use without giving credit to the author.  I can prove it is my work so please write your own don't steal mine.   JH
I

The shepherds went their hasty way,
And found the lowly stable-shed
Where the ******-Mother lay:
And now they checked their eager tread,
For to the Babe, that at her ***** clung,
A Mother’s song the ******-Mother sung.

II

They told her how a glorious light,
Streaming from a heavenly throng.
Around them shone, suspending night!
While sweeter than a mother’s song,
Blest Angels heralded the Savior’s birth,
Glory to God on high! and Peace on Earth.

III

She listened to the tale divine,
And closer still the Babe she pressed:
And while she cried, the Babe is mine!
The milk rushed faster to her breast:
Joy rose within her, like a summer’s morn;
Peace, Peace on Earth! the Prince of Peace is born.

IV

Thou Mother of the Prince of Peace,
Poor, simple, and of low estate!
That strife should vanish, battle cease,
O why should this thy soul elate?
Sweet Music’s loudest note, the Poet’s story,
Didst thou ne’er love to hear of fame and glory?

V

And is not War a youthful king,
A stately Hero clad in mail?
Beneath his footsteps laurels spring;
Him Earth’s majestic monarchs hail
Their friends, their playmate! and his bold bright eye
Compels the maiden’s love-confessing sigh.

VI

Tell this in some more courtly scene,
To maids and youths in robes of state!
I am a woman poor and mean,
And wherefore is my soul elate.
War is a ruffian, all with guilt defiled,
That from the aged father’s tears his child!

VII

A murderous fiend, by fiends adored,
He kills the sire and starves the son;
The husband kills, and from her board
Steals all his widow’s toil had won;
Plunders God’s world of beauty; rends away
All safety from the night, all comfort from the day.

VIII

Then wisely is my soul elate,
That strife should vanish, battle cease:
I’m poor and of low estate,
The Mother of the Prince of Peace.
Joy rises in me, like a summer’s morn:
Peace, Peace on Earth! The Prince of Peace is born!
Lucero Dec 2014
There’s a girl who gives a ****,
She plunders down the road.
So boldly she is free to be,
That her life became her destiny.

The dragon, the witch, the soul mate,
Ceased on scene so desperately.
She cries and mourns like a flying beat,
Of rhythm trapped in an icicle.

She dreamed of lovely possibilities,
But her dreams were just fantasy.
The male she yearned for,
Was no more than false protrude.

This guy was just a friendly face,
And so he viewed her as a simple dude.
She tried so aimlessly,
To grab his shinning sight.

She knew she could be free,
But she lacked bravery.
The girl took a leap and fell like a sheep,
Into the ground with no retreat.

She could not form a connection,
Between her and him.
She failed and failed,
Until she realized there was a bond, all along.

She was not meant for him;
He was not meant for her.
They were meant to be,
Not soul mates, but tight knotted friends.
Hal Loyd Denton Apr 2012
South West


The breed could walk between both worlds of the white and the Native American even in these
Modern times he was a warrior and there were flashes of his shadow that fell against the sandstone
Walls of these cliffs but here among the portals of two worlds was his territory of necessity and practical
In these shadowed canyons once Geronimo Kit Carson and other giants strode there were times in the
Long midnight hours that you could hear their brusque voices in the stirring wind that could scream as
Loud as any mountain lion not creating fear but birthing fearlessness the bleating of sheep will never be
Heard where the unknown darkness lies to face the beast you must lay aside the desire of keeping
Company with human kind a foreign lodger at the edge of the abyss this was the case of this night the
Breed made camp at a breach in the hard rock wall that made a small cave the stillness outward only
Triggered inward stirrings the make shift fire was placed in the same place that others had used for the
Same purpose the blackened stone had a glowing quality an eye for seeing deeply inward and at great
Distance as the breed pierced with searching eyes this hard surface took on a measure of liquidness
Teaming with sights mysterious as the sea there through this quasar of time and space thoughts began
To invade his mind this cave was a fixed point where a searcher and seeker could roll out the meridian
Of time like a scroll on this barren harsh land and the cave only deepened and made a more ready place
It was like the perfect furnishing empty and austere where a herald of timeless tidings should stand to
Announce his proclamations was it not the Raven that was noted as the holder of secrets for the Native
Peoples what better place to begin a narrative than here on this white sepulcher as the fire has indelibly
Given Likeness to the raven as it spreads its wings within the fire it flutters its wings as the fire flickers
The Vision of men on horses rode and wheeled their mounts rode into glories allegory they plunged into
Darkness as wonder played on their proud tall shoulders Grover Cleveland comes out of a blur into focus
This indwelled darkened sky what does it mean it is a nation remembering its birth pains whites blacks
reds yellow and brown into the ceaseless flow bustling wind cut a dance in and out the noise of riot and
Song the smudged finger prints of many have touched the pages of history in these shadowed lofty
Heights Miss Liberty has had her gown made the fabric is peace and liberty she walks these high walls
The over shadowing parapets alone on the precipice but her burning lamp aglow never failing since
It was long ago ignited there the rays of purist gold does glow out upon the sea of freedom he who
Spills blood outside castle walls determines dominions that will plague or bless under the plunders hand
It will show where the heart is benevolent or capricious of cruel knights of courts of blackened souls
Reside in these seats of power as the Vikings with ribbed ships that floated on Icelandic waters that
Sprayed doom on horrific seas true peril hidden within her wetted folds the breed burst from the cave
Seeking comfort in the dark harbor of night many images were burned into his mind on this fertile night
Of a truth the Raven has shared many a secret thoughts they lay on him like the glistening red  
Blood that drenched Black Beards coat one who played with crowns of kings until his own head
He lost for rubies red and emeralds green did many a shipman lie in heaps dead red cannon fire
Floated across the deep like red saffron rare were any that escaped his cutlass his taste for treasure
And the screams of the dying his pleasure the breed faced many strange tales when he set himself
Up as one who would not only read signs of creatures but he would delve into mystical regions of future
And past but not all can be reveled in one nights setting… he did not reenter the cave for an
Indiscriminate period of time he was propelled into his own changing world his entire family would
Be dissolved in this life other dark lessons would he learn but his yearning to know and share would
Call him back to this familiar ground new visions would attest to the change in the country and it was
Not the change one would want a different landscape laid heavy on the entertainment industry the old
Days of heroes in white hats now replaced with multiplicity of characters without moral content just one
Hook or another good looks had to be at the center little children numerous was better grown daughters
With all the right assets it was mirroring where the culture had fallen too don’t give us values just
Distractions make it fast and mindless that was the best formula our society had suffered scenes likened
Unto Apocalypse now for a sweet but short time we all refer to God and possibly see ourselves as we
Once were then with a short fast few days we forget our true greatness let our liberties slip again
At the first cry of political correctness that comes from the multitude of seekers for American justice
And freedom a better way to live then they see the great weakness and opportunity to make America
A hybrid of their former country and instead of objecting we raise the flag of misguided tolerance and
Score another victory for obscene enemies of all mankind then the saddest folly of all watching the rich
Speak and act with such unabashed pride as they whirl through the night and day being followed by
Reality television cameras as the whole world teeters on the brink of destruction that will consume
Everyone and everything I think the one who heads it all up says I will over looks you if I see the blood
Not your stupid material possessions that are fading with the natural world that is to be consumed the
Outer holds many allusions it is the inner being that better have the goods when the world catches fire
In this cave there is clarity of vision of two worlds fathers and mothers who have gone on unprepared
Have only one desire for their families that remain wake up quit being intertwined deeper and deeper
In a web that is made for one purpose to **** and keep your soul unaware of its true danger truth will
Make you free but you have to listen for this to be so the cave now empty but its revelations are here
Being continued blessing or curse lies in the actions you take or don’t take
Hal Loyd Denton Feb 2013
An effusive elaborate scheme the colors advance to bright spellbinding allure then they achieve
Depth of quality by cutting back to softer hues and then the natural dark green is the bold
Touch that succeeds with total symmetry showcased in a view perfected by glass the prism
Most fitting not only to see but to be captivated by perfected expression it is a metaphor for life
The master designer chooses his subjects well one infuses another then by degree others
Foreshadow and glorify it blends tangible and intangible into intelligent coherent order tasteful
And sublime the hint and the elusive wonder all is needed is the wind to bow and ****** it into
A profusion a veritable concert that stirs with appeal life is in motion the players advance and
Retreat each speaking lines unique to themselves what sensations speak tendrils on a garden
Trellis held and fixed a gesture that plays and portrays intricate details the mystery that plays so
Well the stealing of morning frost then the blaze and then restful dying rays that spell comfort
The field rolls and contorts this brandishes excitement exuberance veers and plunders life
Become exploration trails hidden thickets hide and hold expression that is pent up ready to
Explode what vesture we wear it grips our friend’s astonishment is read on their faces but it is
Like a house of many mirrors because their lives are having the same effect on you some days
Are uneventful others are storm tossed with grandness the riches of an all contained realm
Spasms convulse like waves of the sea we stand forth to puzzle and dream what does it all
Mean the sanctity reveals plumes that are invisible that are far reaching and they have given us
This course of endurance that belies longing we grow soft and an inner glowing surpasses the
Stringent the misfit that moans against conforming we are treasure that exceeds all expectation
Life is rich we are its brightest colors and light night is for brooding the day is for shinning and
Divulging the secrets found in the brooding time we accost others we signify to them not only
Our own worth but there’s also fetching is the spray that magnifies the sky we are the bursting
We are the aliveness that is found each day in our lives that is the dooryard of discovery



----------------------------------------------------------------­----------------
Jade Feb 2018
I. The Fireflies



There was once

a time when the fireflies

had made a home out of me.



One evening,

long after the sun

had surrendered itself

to the hazed horizon

and the pregnant moon,

they had come to my window,

golden freckles of light

twinkling playfully

in the dimness.



What exactly

prompted their gravitation

towards me,

I will never be entirely certain of,

though I have my theories.



Maybe it was the

warm glass of milk

sitting on my bedside table.

Or maybe

they had simply mistaken

the peppers of stardust

laced atop my eyelashes

for their own kin.



Or perhaps–

and most likely–

it had been

the murmur of poetry

on my lips:



…watch how they dart about the trees

in whimsical harmony,

how they rise up towards the dark sky

in the hopes that, someday,

they too will become one with

the constellations that blink

so brilliantly in the blackness.



Yes,

Perhaps this what had captivated them so–

a homage to the fireflies themselves.

Perhaps this is

why they had drifted towards me,

as if in some fanciful trance,

weightless as paper lanterns.



And how sweet they were

as they twirled about the ringlets

in my hair and

nuzzled their small frames

against my cheek

and fingertips.



How sweet they were–

that is,

until the bees came.



II. The Bees



They made lightning bugs

of my fireflies,

whose soft luminescence was replaced

with a violent stream of sparks,

one resembling something close

to the bursting of a fluorescent bulb



And so came the lightning,

the firefly’s only defence against

the approaching swarm,

their only ammunition

in the impending battle:

fireflies versus

bees,

both in want

of my nectared

marrow.



But the lightning

was no reasonable match

for the bees,

with their

large, gelatinous figures

and the persistence

of their stabbings;

annihilated were the fireflies,

carcasses crumbling to soot,

their innards,

still glowing,

smeared across my collarbone

like war paint.



Victorious and

humming menacingly,

the bees then crawled

into my ears

and my mouth

where they proceeded

to feast on their spoils and plunders:

the honey,

that they so cruelly

stole from me.



And once the honey was gone,

so were the bees,

bellies full,

antennae sticky,

their use for me

fulfilled and therefore

discarded.



III. The Spiders



The final hosts

were drawn to

what the bees had left behind:

the inconsolable emptiness

of my being,



They marked their territory

with cobwebs–

spun carelessly

into my arteries

and windpipe.



Breath dwindling and

heartbeat diminishing

I tried to remember the fireflies–

the light–

as the arachnophobia

threatened to devour me.
Look!  The state of Israeli has taken us to dark caves,
Left us hanging between western drones
And pious chauvinism of the Islamic state,
We only harvest terrorist bombs intermittently,
As true benefactors are turfed in tight security,
Where mankind linkers an actuary determines not
Only God’s shrewd calendar has salvaged mankind
From the land based time bomb ready to trigger,
But Israeli’s avaricious eye on the lands of Palestine
Wavers not in any tincture of measure,
And western appetite for the Arabic oil wells
Has now gone fluvial spilling the moral brim,
Both have sandwiched us amid delicate edges
Tracking us down to the dangerous courtyards,
Where humanity forlornly gapes at the gathering storm,


Islamic state here comes newly fangled
Fully amoured like Arabian knights
In the dhow of Sind Bad the sailor
Sharpened to date by eastern wisdom
Where China hovers like scavengerous vulture
Waiting for sweet dish of the war plunders,
As Israel giggles at the western folly
Ever jumping into war on a simple trigger,
Evinced in the war on Iraq eked on twin towers
When the true bombers were not Arabs
But shrewd Jews who ployed and stunted
For Islamic fate on the American guillotine,

Israeli state was faked in the formation
Allowing the oil venturists to flock
Menacingly flock from America to Palestine
To usurp land that belongs to the least armed,
On whimsical claims in the  fables and rituals
Skewed to favour the tongue of Ptolemy,
Otherwise, who among us has useless history?

The state is formed by identical population,
Definitely numbered for reasons of law,
How many Israelis formed the 1948 state?
Where were the Jews coming from?
How long had they been away?
No good answer will come than drones,
It is folly to claim land you never owned
Because your foremen hailed it 14 centuries ago,
You forcefully encroach on it with force and terror
Killing and ****** the genuine land owners
Israeli!  Listen to my voice of vision;
Soon God will withdraw his favour from you
For you have ***** the weak and the poor,


Which way Africa! Which way?
Will you take to cross the battle field?
Of the possibly coming horrendous war
Between Islamic state and West backed Israeli,
Don’t go to the West in support of Israeli
For after the war Israeli will become a lion’s cub
That eats the dog foster-mother on its maturity
For a Jew prefers an Arab a thousand times,
More than he does to a black and gentile African,
Let us go east and do business with the yellowmen.
Francie Lynch Sep 2019
Its commensal, at best,
This house fly of a guest;
Who frequents your home,
Alits on a chair,
Rubbing its hands together.
It shows no regrets,
Feeding, slurping and buzzing,
With a self-made bequest.
I can tolerate a bar fly;
A barn fly, a sty fly;
But,
I've the bottle fly,
That plunders my fridge,
Swarms over my beer
Like a blood-thirsty midge.
He's a house fly,
And ignorant,
So fly paper won't do.
I need a SWAT team to shoo
This house fly adieu.
Do you have a house fly?
Yitkbel Sep 2018
There are lights in the sky
Each a lamp lit for someone else
And none for me

I’d sent flame after flame
Up there for you hoping that
One day they’d be bright enough
To reach you

To listen to your words of white heat warmth
That will send a wave of fire through
The void and light a billion stars
For me
Even if you didn’t intend to
Your words, your smile,
Even your silence is what
Lit up the sky for me
So that I saw besides everlasting darkness
And ever more endless shadow
There are life brewing in the silence
Though not for me

The silence only smothers, and suffocates me
Like an invisible hand tightly gripping onto my throat
Without me noticing, ever so violently
Yet ever so slowly squeezing harder and harder
Till I cannot breath, not knowing the reason why

It forces me down into the depth of the abyss
Till I am no longer one, but one with the shadow
One with the bottomless pit of despair and fear
Till I am no longer within the void, but am the void

Yet, when I saw you
When I met you
I was lifted up out of where I thought I belonged
And could hold against the weight
Of all that is without light
The gloom, the shadows, the night
The black of space
The silence that cries
And floated weightlessly
Above, below, and within
All there ever was, and will be
For, even though I know not how
My love for you
Has the power to lift me up:

Beyond the wild fields of stars
Beyond the glistening ocean of light
Beyond the dreamless darkness
Beyond the unkempt bed of life
Beyond the inescapable swamp of death
And beyond
All of time

To a place where only the existence of you
Holds out its shapeless hand to me
And lead me
Rather the merely dust, and breath of me
Through the void, to the empty vessel
Carrying all the pure
Feelings, senses, love, and even pain

Though it is a place
Way beyond the rays of any sun
Way beyond the circle of life
Way beyond decay and apathy
Way beyond flesh and blood

I saw every color
Every being
Every state of being
Every possible and impossible thing
Every time and space
Pass through the ghost of you and I
And cease to be
At least that’s what they appeared to be

The twinges, the sharp electric sparks
You sent through out every atom of my body
And every participle of my soul
Told me that

They are no longer life that exist exterior to us
But within us, or rather
They are us, were us, and will always be
As they have never existed otherwise
In and since that moment of eternity

I see every river through me
My blood and hair
Every fish, your touch
Every dancing seagrass
The joy your gaze ripples through me

I see every mountain and valley
All around you
Every bump on your skin
Every wave on your fingertips
Every stone and sharp edges, my pain
Every field my words of love unending

Every burning star
Dots our shining eyes
Every moon, every heavenly body
That passes, they are the fleeting
Yet never ceasing reflection of affections
Waltzing again and again across our sight
Playful like children
Not yet exposed to any worldly sorrow

Every bit of space without light
Every pit of pure darkness
Caves of eternal shadow
Every howling silence that plunders pass
They are too, forever part of our love
For
They are the pain of longing
That makes each moment of proximity
So frighteningly precious
Afraid to be lost, so keeping it close
Like a token of innocent love
Pass down through generations
Till no being of flesh and mind
Remains, yet the dust still holds
Tightly onto it
Never letting go

And,
At last
Every bit of you
Like water droplets through the given earth
Like sunshine in an inseparable bond with life
Like rains of stars that will never leave the sky
Have seeped, melted, and spread
Through every drop sweet and bitter of me
Till I am no longer just acquainted with living
But am the very dream of life.
I have been struggling with writer's block again.
So here's a repost from not so long ago:
Originally posted:
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2582547/the-very-dream-of-life/

And inspired by:
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2581869/star-seed-/
Michael Bingoff Sep 2009
God sent me an angel to torment me with.
Hair of fire,
eyes of ocean blue.
Heart skipping beats
with a flashing of a smile.
Pain plunders my soul
with every thought
of her.
I'm being paid back for
every sin that I've committed.
Showing me something
I can never have.
On my knees,
begging for forgiveness
to which there is none.
This is my personal hell.
An angel with no wings and
a sinner with a broken heart.
Seized up in deep thought,
to ponder what could have been
only to wake up in pure desolation.
I am paying it forward.
Loneliness is my sentence,
love is my crime.

©2006 Dead Men Publishing
Margrethe H K Oct 2014
Outside the sky clogs like bruises
I lay in bed and smoke, thinking
you have disappointed me for the last time

I dream I am in bed with a new lover
watching my reflection in his eyes

The way he says my name, like prayer
like scripture
as if he has come into a sacred place
and each touch must preserve even while it plunders

Last night the bed was a nest of nerves and wrong turns
knees bumping out of rhythm
the scraping of teeth
my ring catching your skin

And the red luminous glow of the alarm clock
measuring the long hours of frustration

Then the crack of a beer can opening
and the sound of your ****
splashing across the toilet seat
in the dark

And in that moment I knew
the problem was you

and not

the absence of my *******.
Brother Jimmy Nov 2015
.

Let it out
Let love in
Let it go
Let love win

Love every soul you see
Make love for lovers' sakes
Make happiness make glee
Mend all folks real or fake

My end will come from my beginning
No happenstance no random chance
Nor penance, plucking from your winning
No loss from staunch opponent's lance

Oh would that we could wane
Our dim dichotomies' details donned;
Outside this window pane
Oh wildest winds, we want to wander!

Penance plunders grace
Perchance, do you hear laughter?
Pick up your fallen face
Quick think: what are you after?

Remember what was ransomed
Remarkable requests are made
Requisite responses that result
Sacred sacrifice - ransom paid

So stop the secret scratching
Soothe your screaming skin
The way your thoughts keep hatching;
That tell-tale heart ticking within,

Take a look around
This is a lucky life we live
Though time takes senses: sight, and sound
Taste, scent, and touch - like sand through sieve


.
L,M,N,O,P,Q,R,S,T
mark john junor Jun 2014
i found her in a field of flowers
dancing slow to the summer song
lost in her mind to the dream of a broken heart
dancing sensual with her dreams of lovers nonexistent
lost in the beauty of daylights pretty wonders
she had daffodils in her hair
she had midnight in her eye

i took her to the hilltop
far and above the sea
far from the temptations and tastes
the toxic poisons that are the worlds playthings
for wicked is the worlds kiss
and i thought if i could shelter her
she would heal of her own accord
she would be the girl i once loved

i had gone looking for a square meal for the mind
little intellectual meat and potatoes good for the soul
but as i was supping and laughin with casual company
i heard the distant crack of thunder breaking
like the uniforms of illogical world come to claim
their greasy hands on her clean white linens
stole her away in the rain
stole away my sweet lover never to be seen again

so now i sail these back roads
on the trapeze of delicate balances
of firing loose cannonballs at the
fleeing desperadoes wreathed in silken plunders
balanced against my pockets overflowing
with the wicked maelstrom of misery's and mysteries
that my dark woman's heart and dreams made for me
beloved is for more than just for a passing day
i will never stop searching for this wayward lover
remembering her salt thigh and ruby lips
Ottar Apr 2016
all day the weather men play at meteorology
it is about the science of change, a morphology,
where weather patterns are now living
things and their habits are hard at clue giving,
the rain drops that are fired from cannons aimed at Earth,
make the sound of soldiers charging for everything its worth,

Peace,

after the storm as night falls with thunder
and lightning flashes, steals and plunders
the shadows that ,soaked the trees, fell in pieces they dove from the sky
and those loudest of wet pellets that pop, and ricochet off metal stovepipe
chimneys,

and the wind lashes out and drags wet fingers on every window pane
and why, why
do I now crave the sound of popcorn hoping the melted butter will keep me sane!
Spring 2016 just had its "first storm" I saw lightning and felt the thunder.
At a table we sit
The drinks flow and the herb goes around
"Let's play a game!"
Someone suggests
And so it begins
"Spin the bottle!!!!"
And there it is decided
Anticipation
Nerves
The bottle lands on me
The opposite side?
You
Our eyes meet....
The emotions rise
Simmering
You get off your stool
Come over to mine
I get off mine
My legs
They turn to mush
They serve their purpose though
You bring me close with your strong arm
I can feel your breath on my ear
Gentle nips over my cheek
And then we're face to face
My body pressed intimately against yours
My arms around your neck
Slowly you dip
Closer
Closer
Till soft lips meet
Barely
Like a whisper
Soon the kiss is deepened
Gentle and smooth
Hard and arousing
I'm drowning
Falling into an abyss of passion
Your strong arms keep my head above
Saving me as your lips take me under
And your mouth
That rich sensual mouth
Plunders mine
"That's enough"
We distantly hear our friends call out.
Reluctantly we draw apart
My heart is still racing
My lips still parted

My eyes open to the harsh fluorescent light
It was just a dream...
The Unspoken Mar 2014
Come back to me, Gongyla, here tonight,
You, my rose, with your Lydian lyre.
There hovers forever around you delight:
A beauty desired.

Even your garment plunders my eyes.
I am enchanted: I who once
Complained to the Cyprus-born goddess,
Whom I now beseech

Never to let this lose me grace
But rather bring you back to me:
Amongst all mortal women the one
I most wish to see.
My fav piece...lyrisist
Violet Wade Jun 2012
The houses are all asleep
As in a waking dream I pass
At night my mind is dark

Knowing not what eyes have seen
The farce of life
Winds, twists and streams.

I am exhaustion;
Forever awake,
Ever trapped by sleep.

The question is not of how
Or when to rest.
But why, when I do, I cannot.

He is clever, this thief of dreams
He plunders, he plows
Then leaves to rot my sleep.

Awaiting, forever lurking,
Defending his feast
The beast would eat
my eyelids if he could.


I am insomnia,
Awake in the nightmare
Afraid of the dark.
shy Jun 2014
These capsules of marrow and red blood cells
are useless against you

The protectors of my heart have deteriorated
What pathetic ribs I have
They shatter beneath the unsteady beat
When our eyes meet
And my heart plunders into the bowels below my feet

My knee caps collapse
At the sound of your voice
A sad excuse; my patellas

My neurons refuse to function
In your presence
Every nerve ending ceases to exist
My brain doesn't register the actions
or the words
That escape my mouth
Blabbering

Lastly
The ***** that fails me
Overwhelms me
and controls me
Aortas and ventricles seeping crimson emotion
Constantly pumping false happiness
through my capillaries
My veins returning depression
My body makes me sick
William Clifton Feb 2021
This afternoon, I time a Loon
the length that she stays under.
Upon the shore, I keep her score,
amazed and full of wonder.
Beneath a wake, one minute eight.
What is it that she plunders?
***********
No hook needs she to fish so free.
No line nor rod impedes her.
What sense applies to depths she dives?
Which rhythm moves her meter?
As if in air she swims so fair
To seek that which may feed her.
***********
On this Fall day, I wish to stay
and watch her dive and surface.
“Get back to shore!” My mind implores
as work beckons its service.
And yet I stay in silence, bade
the Loon to bear me witness.
************
Share I with Loon this afternoon
to gladly dive and swim?
In friendship be the Loon with me?
With her would I find kin?
No.
As land locked Loon, I must resume
to fish the drink I’m in.
To gaze in wonder.
Chad White Sep 2015
Hell is known by everyone
Whether you believe in it or not
It's always a compare and contrast
And even though it's just a simple thought
The ideal is there
That if we do something terrible
Like ******, lie or sin in any way
That it leaves something memorable
Like a stain on white cloth
The sin clouds our mind
Consuming our thoughts and bodies
Until theres not much left to find
Except for devastation and agony
Like living isn't hard enough
Without thinking that every mistake
Requires more than just being tough
Where we have to be forgiven
By Grace, by God, and yet others still look down
On us for simple plunders
Like it was our choice to take the frown
It's not our fault we were blinded
It's not our fault that we couldn't think clearly
Can you blame us for being angry?
Everythings shouting at us so severely
Why aren't we better?
Why aren't we stronger?
Why aren't we smarter?
Why can't we just hold out longer?
Everyone thinks depression is so **** easy
"Oh, just think happier thoughts, it'll be fine!"
Tell that to a man so consumed with self loathing
That he'd rather sit alone and cry than dine
With those he loves. It's atrocious
How easily we all fall into the simple glove
That is how useless we are in the grand scheme of things
That we don't deserve love
Or anything at all, really.
And one day everyone we know will walk away
Show that they truly hate us and always have
And finally just ran out of reasons to stay
It pains me.
It pains me every single night
To sit here and think that maybe
I'll be worth more one day, and shed a light
To all those who are hurt or hurting
But how can I save someone
If I can't even save myself?
I'm afraid one day I'll be done.
Finished, over.
But. Even as these thoughts plague me
It's not over today. No way, no how
And I'll keep going, until one day, I see.
Joseph S C Pope Mar 2013
The beak's vessel plunders
    the death of Queen Anne's
                                           twisted, soft scent often. Convenience stores
                            serve war in boxes.

                   A red giant's dimming
wit,      a devil in your balloon. The old governors burn their clothes
                                    at four,
                           four flags,
                                               free, fly
                                into home
                  where the birds die.

My half-century railroads heard the forest is green
when the trees are brown and burning
and the foliage is just a dream

              from the quick,        
                                      the blind,
                      and the ***** that can't dance with the sun like the others.
Water running at the end
of predestination of an unborn's underbelly.
                                                                ­   Say out to the head board
                         begging for attention
                                       --rather be a bridge
worn and bruised, understood and here. The night is here also,
                
             not alone, but no words shared. I rather wait for the walker
who can't sleep
                              to stare at water underneath
           and feel warm from its reflection
                                          --and can't sleep the entire night.
Brother Jimmy Sep 2016
.

Let it out
Let love in
Let it go
Let love win

Love every soul you see
Make love for lovers' sakes
Make happiness make glee
Mend all folks real or fake

My end will come from my beginning
No happenstance no random chance
Nor penance, plucking from your winning
No loss from staunch opponent's lance

Oh would that we could wane
Our dim dichotomies' details donned;
Outside this window pane
Oh wildest winds, we want to wander!

Penance plunders grace
Perchance, do you hear laughter?
Pick up your fallen face
Quick think: what are you after?

Remember what was ransomed
Remarkable requests are made
Requisite responses that result
Sacred sacrifice - ransom paid

So stop the secret scratching
Soothe your screaming skin
The way your thoughts keep hatching...
& That tell-tale heart ticking within,

Take a look around
This is a lucky life we live
Though time takes senses: sight, and sound
Taste, scent, and touch - like sand through sieve


.
Michael Andruzzi Sep 2010
Feet singe the carpet outside the door.

Once again, I'm tickled black.

The shadows creep, the darkness plunders.

No one is there.

Mind agitation; sleeps glares down the clock.

Hear the cry, the eyes awake.

Crisp and young, they sense a being.

A frail hand hugs a tender ****.

Not a soul to speak.

The darkness laughs! But behold, a sound.

He's cowers. His mistakes, ascertained.

Begging for mercy, but too late is it now.

The feet smell the patter of the rain.

"Forewarned.", snarled the storm.

And the water cooed her subjects into the abyss of sweet slumber...
L Aug 2014
nothing is quite as rotten
as her heart while it's at sea
losing connection and self
only salt and water to grab
as she plunders down the side

the floor shakes
     the shakes tingle
            the tingle rocks
                     the rock jitters

think hard and feel very funky!

and in the end, time will probably pass
Dark Jewel Nov 2014
Unkindly are you,
Who steps into the light.
Who mocks my ways.
Who plunders my ship.
Ye scallywag.

You landlubber,
You crawling insect.
Step away from Mara,
My ship of Daedra.

Unkindly are you,
Who mocks the pirate captain.
I care not for your games.
And will shoot you,
With my dual cannon.
Gretl Feeson May 2016
Cruelest is the man who sits and says nothing
Stand alone stare with a harrowing message
Or maybe it’s the poorest, crudest of man
Who we all brand as vicious, biting off hands
But then what of the angry indignant man
The one who feels drained with no moral compass
Moans and groans develops own brands of justice
Then there’s the soldier in all different shapes
Who plunders and kills or kidnaps and rapes
No words for the actions of each head of state
No words for the actions of the man who wont stand
No words for all those who play life at high stakes

Doesn’t life burn you when spending it thinking
So here we all are; fast living and sinking
Rube Frost Mar 2016
I ask, what do I portray?
What reason, what cause
Bind me to this play?
To live and die, simply because?

When it began or end one day;
Whether this is all it ever was;
If it not go another way;
Or it stay, forever, like it was.

Who would answer my deepest fears?
Who could explain this death parade?
Please, I beg, catch the tears
Caused by life's mystery parade.

Answers, I seek, that heal the wounds.
Silence answers and plunders what's left.
Thus the ignorance then surrounds
The Last of Hope, now lost in theft.
mark john junor Apr 2014
she moves sleepheaded in the bed next to me
and in the stillness of the mornings dim light
her hand finds its way across my chest and like an idle dancer spins
nonchalant circles of heart shaped wishes on my skin
her lips draw next to my ear and
with a soft wet sound give a tender
lesson in the beauties of her naughty delights
the first tentative kiss in the tempest of her seductions

she wraps herself up in my arms
a gift to own darker delights
and caresses my eyes with her own
the soft texture of her gaze thick with passions and desires
deep with her heart touching mine
and in that gaze i feel her soul moving as one with mine
as our kisses melt us

she pleads with her hands all along my face
and down along my body
she begs and teases the flickering desires
of our heat that rise like the fires of a thousand suns
and with delighted sounds from deep within her
as she explores and plunders
as we dance in the tangled sheets
she finds again the desires that go hand in hand
with her hearts loves
that go hand in hand with her hearts dreams

timeless times later
as we lay entwined in the afterglow of our love's hot tempest
and with such a tender and timid voice looking deep into my eyes
tells me she loves me and no other
i brush back the strand of hair that
has fallen to her sweat bound brow
and kissing her gently
tell her that i too love her and no other

this is no ordinary love affair
this is one soul romancing another with every carnal delight
with every souls true treasure of loving embrace
this is passion
she is my dreadlock princess
i am her poet in shining armor
this is how love was meant to be
Dalton Rees Nov 2015
Glossy-eyed children taste toxin-doctored water from plastic red cups
as popular hits of the day intertwine with impure intentions and blind approbation
for strangers-
obscured within the cherry-colored lenses of Dionysius’s shroud.
-
A languid form stumbles though an ocean of slurred words and victorious howls
Into a water room with four walls, a broken door, and a single reflective glass, sounds of the century now low and intertwined with the domestic petting zoo steadily beating against the door
Still broken.
Tired eyes through orbital vision and a weary process of cognitive recognition
Finds within the glass a conception of self, foreign to the observer and comically out of place.
Segmented ideas find meaning in convoluted streams of thought as the spoken word
Is devalued and meaning is limited to fain attempts to *** a smoke, bro.  
Radiating self-righteous belligerence and misattributed
Bravado-
the two-dimensional protagonist clumsily plunders the kitchen
for processed sugar bars and handfuls of stale Wonderbread
before projecting discarded toxins into the potted plant near the high-traffic doorway while snapback youth formulate attributable hashtags and millennial responses to
a situation typical to the time of uncertainty and blissful absence.
Come morning, we’ll eat scrambled eggs in sunlight
And romanticize about a Kodak experience, now elapsed by a self- more stringent.
I found myself observing Greek Life from the inside, recognizing a truly disappointing atmosphere bumbling to the tune of cut-rate light beer and the stalest of personalities.
Yitkbel Jun 2018
There are lights in the sky
Each a lamp lit for someone else
And none for me

I’d sent flame after flame
Up there for you hoping that
One day they’d be bright enough
To reach you

To listen to your words of white heat warmth
That will send a wave of fire through
The void and light a billion stars
For me
Even if you didn’t intend to
Your words, your smile,
Even your silence is what
Lit up the sky for me
So that I saw besides everlasting darkness
And ever more endless shadow
There are life brewing in the silence
Though not for me

The silence only smothers, and suffocates me
Like an invisible hand tightly gripping onto my throat
Without me noticing, ever so violently
Yet ever so slowly squeezing harder and harder
Till I cannot breath, not knowing the reason why

It forces me down into the depth of the abyss
Till I am no longer one, but one with the shadow
One with the bottomless pit of despair and fear
Till I am no longer within the void, but am the void

Yet, when I saw you
When I met you
I was lifted up out of where I thought I belonged
And could hold against the weight
Of all that is without light
The gloom, the shadows, the night
The black of space
The silence that cries
And floated weightlessly
Above, below, and within
All there ever was, and will be
For, even though I know not how
My love for you
Has the power to lift me up:

Beyond the wild fields of stars
Beyond the glistening ocean of light
Beyond the dreamless darkness
Beyond the unkempt bed of life
Beyond the inescapable swamp of death
And beyond
All of time

To a place where only the existence of you
Holds out its shapeless hand to me
And lead me
Rather the merely dust, and breath of me
Through the void, to the empty vessel
Carrying all the pure
Feelings, senses, love, and even pain

Though it is a place
Way beyond the rays of any sun
Way beyond the circle of life
Way beyond decay and apathy
Way beyond flesh and blood

I saw every color
Every being
Every state of being
Every possible and impossible thing
Every time and space
Pass through the ghost of you and I
And cease to be
At least that’s what they appeared to be

The twinges, the sharp electric sparks
You sent through out every atom of my body
And every participle of my soul
Told me that

They are no longer life that exist exterior to us
But within us, or rather
They are us, were us, and will always be
As they have never existed otherwise
In and since that moment of eternity

I see every river through me
My blood and hair
Every fish, your touch
Every dancing seagrass
The joy your gaze ripples through me

I see every mountain and valley
All around you
Every bump on your skin
Every wave on your fingertips
Every stone and sharp edges, my pain
Every field my words of love unending

Every burning star
Dots our shining eyes
Every moon, every heavenly body
That passes, they are the fleeting
Yet never ceasing reflection of affections
Waltzing again and again across our sight
Playful like children
Not yet exposed to any worldly sorrow

Every bit of space without light
Every pit of pure darkness
Caves of eternal shadow
Every howling silence that plunders pass
They are too, forever part of our love
For
They are the pain of longing
That makes each moment of proximity
So frighteningly precious
Afraid to be lost, so keeping it close
Like a token of innocent love
Pass down through generations
Till no being of flesh and mind
Remains, yet the dust still holds
Tightly onto it
Never letting go

And,
At last
Every bit of you
Like water droplets through the given earth
Like sunshine in an inseparable bond with life
Like rains of stars that will never leave the sky
Have seeped, melted, and spread
Through every drop sweet and bitter of me
Till I am no longer just acquainted with living
But am the very dream of life.
Jonny Angel Jul 2014
Peach burns in the western sky
as darkness plunders the hills,
leafless trees stand
like a row of dead soldiers
along Galley Road,
a quiet testament
to a different time,
an era of content,
now gone.
Khrystle Rea Feb 2013
A simple wish
         yet again
    overlooked by him.
Does he care?
    She wonders. Everything
plunders. If only delicate words

arose in time
   to dilute
instant bursts of rage.
         It's too late.
Silence is all he gives.
  A child unwilling to talk.

She still struggles
     accepting
his realistic ways.
       It all hurts.
Sometimes she wishes
  he'd leave through the unopened door.
mark john junor Oct 2014
she moves sleepy-headed in the bed next to me
and in the stillness of the mornings dim light
her hand finds its way across my chest and like an idle dancer spins
nonchalant circles of heart shaped wishes on my skin
her lips draw next to my ear and
with a soft wet sound give a tender
lesson in the beauties of her naughty delights
the first tentative kiss in the tempest of her seductions

she wraps herself up in my arms
a gift to own darker delights
and caresses my eyes with her own
the soft texture of her gaze thick with passions and desires
deep with her heart touching mine
and in that gaze i feel her soul moving as one with mine
as our kisses melt us

she pleads with her hands all along my face
and down along my body
she begs and teases the flickering desires
of our heat that rise like the fires of a thousand suns
and with delighted sounds from deep within her
as she explores and plunders
as we dance in the tangled sheets
she finds again the desires that go hand in hand
with her hearts loves
that go hand in hand with her hearts dreams

timeless times later
as we lay entwined in the afterglow of our love's hot tempest
and with such a tender and timid voice looking deep into my eyes
tells me she loves me and no other
i brush back the strand of hair that
has fallen to her sweat bound brow
and kissing her gently
tell her that i too love her and no other

this is no ordinary love affair
this is one soul romancing another with every carnal delight
with every souls true treasure of loving embrace
this is passion
she is my dreadlock princess
i am her poet in shining armor
this is how love was meant to be
(i wrote this a while back)
Daniel Magner Mar 2013
I tend to write snippets,
little pieces of electric current
running down axons.
Nothing too long or I might
lose train of thought
but I might not.
It's hot now, and I have an urge
to be heard.
Yet I don't want to get too deep...
still, I left a message for myself
scribbled
She is limitless
but the stress manifests
in my deepest sleep

The sun peeps through
on a ramshackle room
fingers tapping strings
pulling out shriveled dreams
splitting right down the seam.
A four legged fur wonder
ponders, sneaks, plunders
listening to the sounds
of going under
Sunburnt and dressed to the nines
at 9
time...time is not real
unless you make it so.
It doesn't exist
clocks exist
How sad for the first being
to be late
an awful gut feeling, like skin peeling
hoping no one sees
please don't let any one see
Stomach growls
lonely
food, feed, fed
If only
If only
© Daniel Magner 2013
Third Eye Candy Jan 2016
There's a house where the world
has stopped dialing...
But a rotary phone, that
has my number.
and plunders my unavailable
daily.

We blink like opening a mystery.
But we never  brush the canvas
of any inspiration.
we gather in the fields of our golden jokes
and each the other are about
how nothing is the same that now
we see what eyes deny
jellyfish
and cotton
swabs.

but there's trees and eggs.
it's nothing how we remember
love and hate.
slow things are voices to recall.
but the matter of their wisdom
is bleach and peaches.
and perhaps a flightless
squab.

II

to endure is to be a living thing.
and to love is to die more
willingly.

but nothing procures the reality
like a dream.... and we cluster
precisely where we diffuse
Unkindly.

III

Let us walk where the treasures march
in impoverished enmity. but know
the different things that sanity
conspires to reveal.
we can be madcap and foreign
to our native selves -
but never once be alien
to what it means
in hell.

IV

heaven is a kind of grace that forgets you.
and trees and eggs
are something else
entirely

despite you.
As a child
Lived Hale and hearty
      Went to school
Came into discipline
April fools of childhood
        Completed study
Received degree & became happy
But did not get a job
April fools of degree
          Got a job
Became happy and confident
Got responsibilities & became vigilent
April fools of job
            Got married
Had a partner & became satisfy
Had children felt as if touched the sky
Children got education and married
They went away to get their dreams fulfilled
April fools of the life
      Now it feels as if
We are this World's big fools who make blunders
       Only first April is true and
Remaining 364 days for us like plunders

— The End —