"proposing" poems
My mother said
*It's not a real proposal
Unless he gets down on one knee*
I rolled my eyes
And thought
**All that matters
Is that the look in his eyes
When he asks
And seeing
It's not fear but hope
And believing
You see joy instead of sorrow
Trying to look past his eyes
And looking into that beautiful soul
And if your lucky
Seeing how much he loves you.**
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 9:45 PM UTC
Ceramic white, wood richly brown
Smooth liquid....touching buds of taste
Lips chasing chatter, slithering slogan sentences
Arm reaching, lift off, exposing the pit, selecting
Combination to the gestured shape, proposing
Enlivening, trickling conversation tripping
To my left. A phone, pressing snugly, ear
Tuned up, alerted, filtering the microwave
Throng. With welcome warmth, thaw began
Icy film packaging a heart temporarily beat
Free, playing, fraternising.....roulette with Russia
Jan 5, 2013
Jan 5, 2013 at 6:15 PM UTC
Let us not
Sit behind our stares any longer
The watch
Is moving
Why don’t we
Love’s paralysis
Is stronger
Than I expected
Shall it be
A falsehood
Of my misunderstanding
Or am I
Still
Standing here for a reason
Leaving
Chance to do my bidding
Abiding
By the construed rules
Of attraction
As I pause at awe
Awfully beautiful
An unlawful marriage of the minds
My unknowing bride
Lies in front of me
My truths lay juxtaposed
In the background
Just a pose
On one knee
Proposing to
My wife to be
Ha!
My imagination
Get’s the best of me
You still
Don’t know
My name
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 12:43 AM UTC
Man proposes,
Women proposes
Both proposes at the same time unexpectedly
Wait, what?
Talk about hysterical
I wonder if that's ever happened before.
Like gold that washed from a shore
Thoughts racing back and forth galore
The excitement has overtakened me
My imagination might not take any more
Get me a pen
This has got to be on paper.
I'm a poet but i'm also curious.
Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 10:57 PM UTC
A true semantic literary meaning
awakening to curate
my being
or throw away it all and question
the delivery of
the ics and isms
determining not by me but by the reader
what is true
like Montague
proposing a new system
I propose a meaningful regimen,
one where words are either felt
, make me halt and listen,
to what they truly meant.
Or they don't.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 12:32 AM UTC
Sometimes I wonder
About all these screens
Reality captured and controlled
Designed and refined
Groomed to an idealistic state of too good to be true
Making it a bit too easy to day dream
Sometimes I wonder
About all those moments
Those times so clearly photographed
With a piercing sting behind the camera
Fantasy proposing the changes that can't be made
For those moments that you can't forget
Sometimes I wonder
About all I haven't seen
Billions upon billions of molecular possibilities
Shown through animals, forests, seas, circumstances
All going on beyond the length of my perceptions
Giving me a yearning for more than before
But...
Sometimes I know
Despite all the anxieties of self perception
The hindsight consumption pressuring pointlessly
And the necessary humility in a world that is small itself
That there's a lot I can do to find contentment in life
And plenty of time to do it
Mar 31, 2012
Mar 31, 2012 at 9:37 PM UTC
He stretches his neck towards his own sunshine,
exposing, proposing his eyes be dried,
needing only himself and his water’s tide
rocking him gently through his own night’s time.
And in and under his carapace
he stores the secrets of his ways,
saving them for another day
keeping content- though lone he lay.
Any sorrows he has stay buried, small in his shell;
there’s no one to listen so no one he tells.
He hides it all and hopes all will be well,
he hides it all, and all is well.
Mar 16, 2012
Mar 16, 2012 at 5:05 PM UTC
In this poem, I speak directly to you-know-who-because-it's-you.
Dear old friend, don't miss me ever,
If I had some genuine value in your life,
Now I add the element of request, please,
You know that most of my poems are for you,
Whether normal or proposing you to be my wife,
Please do not spoil your career being busy in vain,
The social network & apps are a total waste of time.
The social network is not a place for social service,
It is only so harmful for your own career prospects.
This is just my last request to you, Kripiji.
I know you are upset with this preaching,
But please take the positivity from this post.
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 11:22 AM UTC
I see them pass by
All the exits on the highway that could lead to you
I'm mentally driving myself to your house
At four in the morning
So I can crawl in your bed
And sleep until the sun peaks over the hills
So I can feel your warmth under the covers
And feel you breathing beside me
That way I can tell you when we wake
How proposing to take a break
Broke me
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 4:49 AM UTC
To Be Continued
Try to praise the mutilated world.
Tweet the lies of love with lustful lyrics
Lustrously laminated by lives of the lost
Reluctantly remembering repressed memories
Hidden, but recovered.
Mutilation
Malicious mysterious misunderstood
Multiplying in the masses
Magnificent.
Praise
Powerful prideful
Portraying pure pleasure from answered prayers
Proposing purpose.
The world
And abyss
Empty like a full moon’s blank stare
Echoing ignorance.
Shall we challenge the Author?
Is authenticity virtuous?
The growth of an insatiable species
To be glorious, to be remembered,
To be continued
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 11:35 AM UTC
sitting in pity and self loathing
pondering what i am proposing
anguish increasingly near
questioning what was clear
things that used to make me smile
dancing in my brain, staying awhile
tears about to burst i give in
back to the past with a grin
young in love, cuddling my girl
"ill never leave you" we concur
skin tingles i feel her touch
nothing but warmth in my clutch
satisfied my brain evens keel
enough to allow me to deal
alone again cursing cupid
how could i have been so stupid?
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 2:26 AM UTC
*How I wish to float upon your breast
Soft and placid as a glass lake, windless
Breathless
But to delve into valleys
Unexplored, keeper of buried treasures
I trek throughout, wandering
Aimless deliverance, unspoken promises
Intricacy of intimate embrace
I weave in my fingers, passion
Spill me, leave kisses like ghosts
Translucent memories
Moist with seduction
Delicious droplets of enticement
Proposing infatuation, falling from your lips
Illustrious little allures
Swim through me
Serpentine twisting contours
Wrap me in flesh, consumption
Stares, to reiterate a longing
Convey this truthfulness
Honeyed words of desire
Think not to deny yourself this moment
Make love to white whispers
Embedded in the mouth of temptation
Take no responsibility
Let movement be freely expressed
Body caressed
Comforting red embers
Of lustful flame
Spin tales of time and tryst
Inhale the sweeter aromas
Entwine with immaculacy
Reciprocate sensuality, a pair
Two
Two with a twist
And many other turns*
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 7:38 PM UTC
Bombers & bloggers
Tragedy is triumphant
Traffic gathers in a tweaked intersection divide
Wreaking of those fuming with exhaustion
Speed, cause you prefer the highway
Political in place of partial
The news carries dismay
Where is such trouble in this world you say?
Posing proposing, regulating;
Marijuana laws are changing
Complaining of taxing & weighing
Football, do you recalls, & puppy dogs,
Amber alerts & nostalgia where it hurts
Once again the news contright
Cut short cause it draaaags
Ruthless the truth is;
Everywhere you go, there the news is
You can't lose it, tied around your neck the noose is
Bed bugs It has;
Talking of spread shoots, ***** mags
This celebrity, the new 'fad', & that old hag
Throw up on the rag;
Forget it
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 2:29 AM UTC
and if i stop, i'll miss the little things:
shaving my legs when i know you're coming over and
not drinking coffee because you don't like the taste of it on my tongue.
i'll miss
running out to your car with my shoes in my hand,
the very last goodnight kiss that's always sweetest.
i'll miss lying to my parents about traffic
and weather
when we were right around the curve of the road,
stealing kisses.
i'll miss
when you don't shave because you know i like your scruffy boy-stubble
when you touch my face without speaking
when your actions
are louder
than words.
i'll miss
your sweetness
i'll miss
your puckish sincerity
i'll miss
you.
i'll miss your hands
your tongue
and your lips on my cheek.
i'll miss you kissing each one of my fingers.
i'll miss our secret handshakes,
our inside jokes,
our petty fights.
i'll miss our song.
i'll miss our arguments about the beatles' breakup,
our railings against religious institutions
our speaking of souls.
and so what i'm proposing,
from me to you,
girl to boy and
heart to heart,
is that you don't stop loving me,
and i
won't stop loving
you.
Jul 29, 2012
Jul 29, 2012 at 10:31 PM UTC
Tonight I flicker dimmer than most
I'm alone with everyone here
Stabbing their plates and proposing their toasts
Tonight I feel my wings but they're in cuffs
I'm alone with everyone here
Speaking their words, laughing their laughs
Tonight I bear the arrows of discreet little leers
I'm alone with everyone here
Silently goading me with their mocks and jeers
Tonight I hear whispers muttered inaudible
I'm alone with everyone here
Inconspicuous fingers pointed under tables
Tonight I write but my ink weighs heavy
I'm alone with everyone here
They pile on my thoughts, usurping the calm...
Inciting a mind full of anarchy
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 11:05 AM UTC
Some people have faith…
In a God that they can’t see.
They pray and beckon to this being.
That doesn’t make sense to me.
Some people seek out love…
They say it’s all they need.
A notion that can’t be defined.
That doesn’t make sense to me.
Some people seek the truth.
They claim it will set them free.
All too often it brings only pain.
That doesn’t make sense to me.
Some people claim to care.
And they do so unconditionally.
Expecting absolutely nothing in return.
That doesn’t make sense to me.
Some people refute predestination.
Yet believe in destiny.
Fate and free will intertwined.
That doesn’t make sense to me.
Some people outstretch their hands.
When the world leaves them to bleed.
Giving to a world that doesn’t care.
That doesn’t make sense to me.
Some people follow only logic.
Decisions made to a tolerable degree.
Yet logic turns our hearts so cold.
That doesn’t make sense to me.
Some people look for life’s purpose.
Proposing doctrines and various decrees.
That purpose varies from one to the next.
That doesn’t make sense to me.
The world is full of confounds and query.
And in that, I rarely find the answers I seek.
But still, I wonder every day.
That doesn’t make sense to me.
Perhaps we need not find an answer.
Perhaps, by nature, we are curious beings.
We need faith, wisdom, truth, and love.
At least, that much, I can see.
But I invite you to justify this world.
Elaborate on the answers I need.
Or maybe life just doesn’t make sense.
I invite you to enlighten me.
Mar 31, 2012
Mar 31, 2012 at 1:12 AM UTC
To Ezra Pound
These are the names of the companies that have made
money from this war
nineteenhundredsixtyeight Annodomini fourthousand
eighty Hebraic
These are the Corporations who have profited by merchan-
dising skinburning phosphorous or shells fragmented
to thousands of fleshpiercing needles
and here listed money millions gained by each combine for
manufacture
and here are gains numbered, index'd swelling a decade, set
in order,
here named the Fathers in office in these industries, tele-
phones directing finance,
names of directors, makers of fates, and the names of the
stockholders of these destined Aggregates,
and here are the names of their ambassadors to the Capital,
representatives to legislature, those who sit drinking
in hotel lobbies to persuade,
and separate listed, those who drop Amphetamine with
military, gossip, argue, and persuade
suggesting policy naming language proposing strategy, this
done for fee as ambassadors to Pentagon, consul-
tants to military, paid by their industry:
and these are the names of the generals & captains mili-
tary, who know thus work for war goods manufactur-
ers;
and above these, listed, the names of the banks, combines,
investment trusts that control these industries:
and these are the names of the newspapers owned by these
banks
and these are the names of the airstations owned by these
combines;
and these are the numbers of thousands of citizens em-
ployed by these businesses named;
and the beginning of this accounting is 1958 and the end
1968, that static be contained in orderly mind,
coherent and definite,
and the first form of this litany begun first day December
1967 furthers this poem of these States.
December 1, 1967
3.8k
I remember an old guy he was an alcoholic hospitalized with me, he used to cut his cigarette filter so it guests stronger, I do the same sometimes, I wonder what he’s doing now. When we used to ask him he used to say “I’m already messed up there’s nothing left to ruin” I wonder if he’s okay now if he finally has something to ruin, I wonder if I do too, and then I remember you. I remember your eyes looking at me like I’m the only thing that matters in this universe, I remember, how u could know if I was asleep or pretending to avoid a conversation, you said my eyes smiled when I fell asleep, I dont know what you meant by that, but it made me smile. I remember you proposing to me with a pine cone, and promising me you will do it again one day, but for real. I remember spending two days locked in a car with you, you were worried about me, you wouldn’t leave, we slept uncomfortably, but we were still comfortable cuz I was in your arms and you were in mine.
I remember dancing with you in the er as we waited for me to be admitted, it was cringy and cheesy but I didn’t care, in your arms the only thing I care for is you. I remember your lips on mine and how they tasted, I remember how the universe exploded but disappeared at the same time when you kissed me for the first time. I remember when You pinned me me against the wall and kissed me as if I was the only running river in a drought. I remember the flowers I sent you and how you keep them, I remember how u put my birthday gift in a box filled with those same flowers that you dried, it was a necklace a ring with wings, it was a promise. A promise that one day, we’ll have everything, we’ll have a house with a garden, and cats, so many cats, one day we’ll have kids and I’ll tell them how much their dad loved their mom, that’s how they’ll learn what love really is, one day we will have something to ruin, we will have everything to ruin, but we won’t
Jun 24, 2022
Jun 24, 2022 at 12:22 PM UTC
when the dragonflies escape
the sensation of being swept up
in kite sailing within and without
riveting curvatures
of wind breaks
there's nothing like catching
the breeze so proposing this
please sweet universe,
I ask of thee
let the dragonflies free.
when the dragonflies escape
you will embrace it
in every fiber of your being
with even
electricity flowing
up to the fingertips
you cannot shake this feeling
like the beating of fragile wings
poise and power
strokes the air so carefully calculated
I hope the both of us make it
to a safer existence where there is
virtue and inner peace then
why can't you
just release them
when we again understood
after such a long time
that we were already
free
already free to
begin with.
May 28, 2016
May 28, 2016 at 3:57 PM UTC
He felt her presence everywhere
She watched his every move
But She was gone no more was She
His dark side disapproved
One half hated, much like herself
The other filled with glee
The two halves fighting all the time
And all because of She
His double-self entranced her thoughts
She clung to every word
The danger carried her away
Like songs from dying birds
He’s on his knees proposing love
She simply answers “yes”
The darkness is opposing it
It’s all a ****** mess
Her body lies on Winter’s floor
Observing from the sky
She left our world and can’t come back
Now all She does is fly
Blood flows gently on this cold morn
Other emotions flee
But love She had for half that man
The one that’s filled with glee
We’re all alone, the light and dark
The innocent with glee
Stuck with the man inside his head
For I am the carcass called She
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 8:51 PM UTC
I.
I thought you were the one.
I imagined us flying to Manila, meeting the entire family,
you proposing on the pristine sands of Boracay or
in the small village where you used to play with spiders.
I thought of possible baby names pronounced beautifully
in both of our families' native tongues.
II.
We grew together, abandoned defenses until you were my only confidant.
I still haven’t recovered from the way you used that against me:
Sealing my confessions into bullets in a magazine and making sure
I was centered in the crosshairs of the scope,
a different kind of target practice.
III.
You were my special kind of poison, the kind that slipped through my veins
unnoticed until it corrupted my cardiac muscle and collapsed my lungs.
I ate away at myself until I was small enough not to threaten you,
and even that wasn’t enough.
I finally got the courage to leave you, but I formed a thick cocoon
around my chrysalis of secrets to protect myself from you
and the next.
IV.
It’s been two years and I still have you, your mother,
and every Carlsbad or Mira Mesa area code blocked.
You realized you could invade my voicemail so you rang in 2019,
screaming whiskey-soaked wishes for a better year for us both.
I honestly believe you want that, in your own way.
I wish you the best too, but
I have outgrown you.
Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 3:58 AM UTC
As I stood in front of critical eyes, I had to convey myself today.
In my mind, I have designed the whole system as requested,
in my eyes, I have emitted my internal confidence of myself,
But when on stage, I feel compelled to watch my words,
My words sometimes have a way to stray, searching for the best combination.
The fear is not within my abilities of my craft, but my ability to sell myself, as a representation of the system I momentarily created. The anxiety of proposing my logic mixed with the doubt of being over-pretentious became me.
As I look into their eyes, I take a mental breath, and proposed my system within layers as suggested in my mind. I felt compelled, yet nervous to present my thoughts and ideas. I am confident, yet thoughtful of every instance that could make or break my deal.
That said, believing in yourself and knowing your facts to prove your bases, is the key to the eyes of inception that we call cultural matching to the masses.
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 9:59 PM UTC
From Kings and Queens,
I’m considered a Princess.
From my palace on the corner,
The birds sing me good morning.
This, is where I come from.
From my diary,
Which records the present,
From my stuffed bear,
Which shows my past.
This, is where I come from.
From the loss in my life,
I grew up fast.
From my step-father proposing,
my family is complete.
This, is where I come from.
From fishing on the docks,
My knowledge grew.
From my loving, stubborn, compassionate family,
I’m independent and brave.
This, is where I come from.
From my heartbreaks,
I became strong.
From my love,
I became loyal.
This, is where I come from.
From wars and marriages,
Friendships were made.
From love and trust,
My family tree grew.
This, is where I come from.
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC
. people are always left curious about the stories of homeless people... within the regards of why they became homeless... you want to hear my story? i sat down with one homeless person... you know what he told me? you want to know? he said: MY MOTHER TOLD ME TO NEVER TELL A LIE... wow... wow... so it became my ambition to never tell a lie... i became homeless because my mother advised me to never tell a lie... guess telling lies pays off... whatever it pays with or for... i became homeless because my mother told me to never tell lie! wow! so much for poetry being written while sober... what is expected? unruly truths, falsifications, this that and the other... hell... i'm a drunk... chances of me involved in a relationship are the basic focus of: SLIM... but? HEDNINGARNA - VARGTIMMEN... Finnish folk music.
***** does my head in,
minus the thought-and-question:
do i have a head?
dunno....
whenever the moon rises...
i get a tease of the giggles...
ha ha...
and my face contorts into
a posit of one if those faces from
an apex twin video...
funny as any royal ****
turned into ****
flushed..
now i want you to remember:
never meddle with a madman...
he's been prescribed his
medication,
he's been diagnosed...
come near me and a cancer
sufferer...
dox me!
dox me!
dox me!
i, dare, you!
but i know the person,
or rather, the type...
i won't be doxed,
because what i'm proposing
will not be matched
in execution....
****** parodies
of testicular cancer!
that quote for Albert from
the dark knight:
i am....
some people just like to watch
the world, burn...
i am...
dies, ich bin:
this, i am!
at least i have more constancy to
make comparison of
the Hebrew gott...
ich bin das ich bin...
my alternative?
dies, ich bin!
now...
i am: now!
and when i drink and turn
into a *******
it's to salvage some fathom
or what remains to be
justified as:
resolve.
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 8:12 PM UTC