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zebra Aug 2018
a curved pastry
like a prune danish
in a sway
a weaving kiss
anointed by a melting stick of butter,
pushed and puddled
deep and slow

the shape of a heart
with a hole in the middle
ooow dark fig
stinking rose
a comfort that sweetens with the grace of form
and pops like a trigger releasing a bullet

i covet
with eyes like erections
pants sticky wet
hot glue factory
for you love, my *** angel
red skin girl gaping
with circular yearning set in motion
tarnished petal mix meister
sinful hot house
for quaking tongue and lips,
a wild cherry *** kisser
spiked ***** blushing
lord of ****
solar ******* hero
flexed and oiled
to the rescue
a god send
triumphant and blessed
looks like a fast cigarette boat
hitting the speed bumps hard

she said yes please
dip like
nautilus of the black sea

What?

no loitering
no parking
not a through street

haahaahaa

****

that

****
adult ***
the ***** don't lie
and every word is a small miracle
Hadiy Syakir Sep 2018
no one is subscribing
to the universal affection
draining subconscious ailment
that needs no treatment
quaking with fear
shaking with revulsion
looking to prolong
an hour, a minute
stretching one seconds
into ten seconds
where are we going,
past the streetlights
the crossroads
the commotion
inside the canal boat
that surrounds and accompanies
this road -
will it ends one day,
sometimes, somewhere
and brings an end
to the entire's generation
guilt and disease?
zebra Aug 2018
i was told not to read that book
it said right there on the cover
that if i did
i would become a scourge
like a hidden genies dagger
the sight of which would terrorize some
and draw others to me
those strange few
who cry to feel it wound their flesh
and crave its rupturing cold edge
an obsession in motion
demanding they lose themselves in the rapture
of dangerous weapons of pleasure and pain
their kiss an obscenity

sure i thought

and as i read it anyway
it's words  
where like a cocked gun blasting
a slow-motion bullet
like a bomb in the skull  
shattering brains
with a storm of licking tongues
and kicking feet

my death scattered me
into a great light that casts a long shadow
of headless prancing nymphs
their menstruum,
kaleidoscopic winding red ribbons
fruits of both heaven and nightmares
like a river of elastic mouths
shifting form like chewed gum

thunder filled the house
a dark paradise found
lost in the realm of the senses
quaking and torn
from
this gleaming blade

its caress a sanctuary
pulled tight
over searching fingers
that roam for damp places
in a flickering daze
hiding a frozen scowl
in
impossible times
Well then I've lost it again.
It's all gone,
nothings left to find.
There are no reasons
for time,
to unwind,
to be blind
to anything you find
that's helpful.
Doubtful,
you see everything in me.
From my malice
to my chi.
You feel it quick
and it resonates your soul.
Like the sound you get,
when sliding wet flesh
on a glass of water.
Your energy fluxuates,
in such wavelengths,
that my heart must beat along.
To a song of your love.
Of which
i have never felt
anything above.
You can tell,
whether I'm
quivering
or quaking,
shivering,
shaking.
Your what I want most
but whats hardest to keep.
You're in reach of the stars
but won't let yourself see.
I've been waiting for you,
and I'll wait for eternity.
jane taylor Jun 2016
how i have ached to walk amongst the evergreens
encased by dazzling quaking aspen
in my rocky mountain home

i yearn to fall again while skiing
and catch a wisp of icy sky blue
snow powder crystals
on my tongue
******* feelings
rise and fall
as they melt
and disappear

i long to breathe in your scent
sitting on the peak of wooded ridges
amidst slate colored boulders
sea salt combined with cinnamon
laced with wildflowers
crisply filling my lungs

i hunger to once again
behold again your red rock formations
creating tender hollows
through which timid coral sunsets peer

i crave hiking at dusk
into your jagged emerald forests
and sit wistfully mid the columbine
while darkened sunflowers juxtapose
against the jet black emptiness
enticing the stars
to etch enchanting paintings
on inky cobalt skies

hankering to be at the sundance film festival
coyly peeking into restaurants
covertly spying on the movie stars
on old park city main

itching to experience waiting patiently
for a moose to cross the street
its majesty splashing gingerly
sending chills throughout the galaxy
magnificence abounds

i pine to have memories gently cradle me
like worn out patchwork quilts
warmed by incandescent fires
wrapping me in soft colored canvas
the past craving transformation
by an echo that’s now dim

faintly crying out for
an old familiar artist’s brush
that still lingers
to snag times gone by
and paint the future in

amalgamating the antiquated
with the present
luring in
my destiny

i dream to don my fringed leather jacket
and hear my cowboy boots
fiercely clicking
against charcoal shadowed midnight sidewalks
while i watch the harvest moon

i’m parched too see your autumn chestnut leaves
against the bloodshot auburn sky
as cardinal hues give way to glistening winter
melding into tender spring

your summertime birthing
tingles down my spine
as chartreus aspen leaves
morph to golden bisque
enticing ute country
to blow in
copper colored indian summers
with cherry fragrant wind

yutaahih you were called
by the apaches
their historic essence
somehow ingrained within
my every cell
thirsty to lie enveloped
like a long lost lover
in your rugged western terrain

once having left your presence
i return to you now
my heart flutters
with wild anticipation
to see your precious face again
utah

©2016janetaylor
after a 5 year absence, we are returning to utah at the end of this month
Arianna Nov 2018
Pizzicato brainwaves
Oscillate across the table,
A nervous duet
For piano and harp.

How close!

Can you feel
The quaking of my heart
Changing tempo:

Prestissimo
Subsiding sweetly to adagio,

Resonating
               Dolce

Reaching
          ­              Affetuoso

Skin to skin
From my fingers,
Inching andante
Into yours...
A follow-up/"Part II" to an older poem. :-)
Skaidrum Jul 2016
...
Drew,
the ashtray is full again


1.)  As I write this to you now, the doves were bleeding diamonds
2.)  And to this very day, I still find your name is in every cigarette the ocean's ever smoked
3.)  I wonder if you remembered the time we realized that flowers preferred the taste of blood over water...
4.)  Or the time we sipped some of the moon's tea; and realized that our teacups were gifts from her lover, the sun
5.)  Distance isn't constant, it's overgrown like the lucid garden that I planted in honor of my wolf girl; yet you were the one who tended it with me as if it was your own
6.)  I know, I know; I didn't thank you enough for all those moments as you held me when time melted into puddles at my feet
7.)  I wrote God a simple letter, still haven't heard from him about how you're doing yet...
8.)  "Unfortunately, on some nights my grief tastes all too silver again"
9.)  You feared all the talents that flowered in the dark and I remember the second you realized I too, was one of them
10.)  Your voice shed sapphire fireworks in my room and what I wouldn't give to see that one more time
11.)  Sleepy roses dribbled down the walls of your hospital room whenever I visited and played with your hair
12.)  The milky way shed it's fickle skins-- and sometimes when the dawn's shoulders snap into place I can hear your laughter echoing along the ribs of the sky
13.)  Your name was a natural disaster born on my pink tongue and delivered by my quaking lips and I can feel the clouds turning in their sleep
14.)  I suppose that you were a cigarette yourself
15.)  And you knew I was the lighter, but you hung around anyways
16.)  Every time I see a shooting star, I'll know that it's you in heaven just throwing away your cigarette so you don't get caught...

I think you were my bad habit
...
You were oh so pretty, smokin' through the canopy


© Copywrite Skaidrum
palladia May 2014
[northern hemisphere: on a beach above the 50th latitude at the end of winter]

(Winter-export), the beach frosted by fingers of polar constellations. It’s too cold to walk without huddling now, spine-shiver-esque, but we do it nonetheless, because, we’re together. Your frothy hydro-rhythm spears in pith, irradiance, I breathe again, deeply. (Thick lips; quick still-hunt.) I rivet fronds of dependence into the seams of your boreal palms, never planning to return the floating colony of barnacles I promised you I’d throw back. You, never planning to catch the sun bored through salt spray, lasping onto crisp foreheads, stitching on glistered lips and froze-shut lashes. And on a day when you didn’t rise early enough, I was left out in the water until my chest was steeped deep in ice, over the thought of losing you. (Glimmering isle); my hair disheveled in sea-foam. Annular light. You pushed me in, and I relented. My isotherm is chthonically, sent. But you, in your legendary mantle, adapted my eyes to see the light hidden deep within your belt; such pinks and fuchsias I have never seen before, suddenly inverted. At absolute velocity, I cut my foot on sea-glass, bleeding blueshift, aligning to the colours of your heights. You take me back to the starry house and we struggle with your parallax, a nadir inseminated on the celestial pole. (Parsecs quaking.) You whisper, I’ll heal you. I’ll heal you, only if you let me. Only if… you let me…  Over and over and over until it’s as mundane as the crashing coast, and unrivaled, I concede to everything and wake up deep in redshift, the whole universe escaping me, suffocating in abyssal warmth-ribbons: without you. Alone on the ecliptic. In the spring-sinking, you order me an argent-laden sword: to remind me of you. I know you still appear, a guardian behind the sun, but until you fling the tiny ice-hot rocks at the zenith (freighting gemstones), I submerge myself into the bathic depths, skulking in aestival despair, as you slip from night to day. Little do you know, my resurgence is also in your hands.

[i watched Orion slip from view every night this spring. No doubt he’ll return next winter... it’s sad losing a friend like that, for so long]
Becca Lansman Sep 2018
You walked into the butcher shop
eyes of blue determination
asked me to hand you the cow heart.
Still beating, i let it slip into you hot palm
letting the blood trickle down our arms as our fingers featherd each others wrists.
You took the corpse and slipped it deep into your jean pocket like a secret love affair.


You asked me if i wanted to go swimming sometime. It was not a question.
I cordially accept your wet invitation.

We splashed in the melted blue like children yet unbroken by the cruelties of living.

We ate each other.
Starving
you told me i was the first meal you had in months
and i, so innocently believed you.

The next day you invited me over for dinner. It was not a question.
Full on lust i accepted

Hot
you opened the kitchen door quickly and whispered down my spine,
my body like lava erupting before we made it to the first course.

On the dinner table lay the butchered
heart.
Still beating you asked me to take the first bite,
and i, brimming with your desire- did

I swallowed it like a rock.
pulsating through my core, shaking my small frame.

You kissed my stomach.

The next day i awoke in cold sweats.
Feverish
Vomiting up my stomach lining chunky and undigested.

I left you three messages.

Sick. White. Quaking.
I waited.

Disintegrating into myself. The flesh melting off my body like a landslide.
A hurricane in slow motion.

I waited.

you skinned me like a thanksgiving turkey
left me on your kitchen table to be picked at by the angry flies.
A slow meticulous death.

You said “look into my eyes.”
And i was so lost in the blue i allowed you to take the knife right to the place where the world begins.

I was so in love with an idea.

I ate your heart without question not understanding that you cannot consume someone into loving you.

What goes in must come out.

Now, what is left of our lust lines the bathroom sink.

A bath of blood and bile
I obsessively pick though trying to discern where I went wrong.
ConnectHook Sep 2015
[Infernal Dialectic of Ongoing Struggle]

Spoke Mao Zedong to Kim Jong Ill:
We languish here in deep red hell –
Let us confer and analyze
What factors revolutionize
The contradictions still.


Replied Lil’ Kim: The running dogs
Beguiled by class and capital
Have overdrawn and overspent.
They bank on debt, and make lament
And flounder in their fogs…


Kim chee does stink, but tastes so good
Do have some more, oh comrade Mao.
Fermented cabbage goes so well
With Hennessey and blondes (in hell)
when
Juche’s in da hood!

The Fearless Leader (now a shade)
Responded thus: Just give them time.
Our doctrines spread, their God is dead
Their sons shall sing ‘The East is Red’
Our party’s got it made.


Ill Kim displayed a wicked grin:
Our rocket-launches make them fear
They scold and cluck, and then they duck
While Hillary tries to pass the buck
I think we still could win…


The Chairman thought and sipped some fire
in communistic reverie, and feeling very clever, he
Replied to Ill: This place we’ll fill
with dead reactionaries still –
fifth columns to inspire.

Now let the thousand flowers bloom
And let one thousand thoughts contend.
Remember **? Remember ‘Nam?
We triumphed over Uncle Sam –
He’s limping toward his doom.


A wizened ghost now drifted in
Because his name had been proclaimed
A wispy beard (as yet unseared)
Revealed the mastermind once feared:
Old Uncle ** Chi Minh !

** ** – old friend! Draw near! Draw near,
Spoke Mao: In solidarity
We hail your work upon the earth
You showed them what a war is worth
You’re always welcome here.


Ill Kim and I were wondering
How best to make the forward leap –
conspiring ******* their cow
and smoke their duck and drain their sow
while they are buying bling.

** Chi, old warrior, why the frown?
Upon your wisdom now we wait.
The forces red you bravely led
You staked your claim until they bled
And brought their nation down.


Old uncle **, the sage revered,
did smolder with his cigarette.
Viet Cong thought is hard to grasp
It slithers like a jungle asp…
** paused and stroked his beard:

You speak without the people’s light!
I criticize in strongest terms
Your revolutionary thought.
We need to ask our friend Pol ***
How best to steer this fight.

Such gradual change, a halfway measure
stalls the Bourgeoisie’s demise.
Our true Khmer Rouge was not a stooge
of Kapital. His fame was huge
for plundering their treasure.

True, he had to purge his nation
such is revolution, gents…
The traitor classes see the masses,
through reactionary  glasses.
Death or re-education!

We ought to sow his rural seed
for pure agrarian reform.
The bodies in the rice can rot
to fertilize the harvest plot –
the people’s mouths to feed.


When Pol *** heard his tactics lauded
he flew in to join the jabber:
Take a tip from Kampuchea!
Listen well and I will teach ya!

Kim and Mao applauded.

City folk are useless eaters
glasses-wearing foes and cheaters!
let them slave – and always save
their corpses for the fertile grave
Until they love their leaders.

From the barrel power grows –
(I don’t mean kim chee barrel, boys – )
Now learn my way.We’ll have our say
Their weakened states will wither away.

The Red dictator rose.

Prepared to ramble on for hours
(the way Fidel so loves to do)
Pol ***’s harangue now fired the gang
like rockets falling on Da Nang
emitting sparks in showers.

Hell is known for lack of stasis –
Sudden throes of quaking fire;
fitful flares from from Satan’s lairs
and constant similar affairs
the population faces…

Thus Saint Pol ***, still naming names
along with Mao and Kim-Jong Il
while ** Chi screamed, and then blasphemed
were swept en masse, and unredeemed
into the surging flames.

Yet still they plotted in the blaze
with dialectic deviousness.
Philosophizing, strategizing
stinking sulphur brimstone rising;
ghosts in the yellow haze…

        ☭ END ☭
http://tinyurl.com/q6uyx34

jane taylor May 2016
stepping back into the west
chills reverberate up and down my spine
chiseling open obsolescent padlocks
dangling with dust
on ancient treasure chests

pallid colors in the attic release
a blossoming familiarity
faint hints of retrospections float on faded paper
granting me access to roads
where no map is needed

as i peruse the streets
my heart flows coalescing with the vicinity
caressing each detail i transform to fluid
and fuse with the past
through fresh strokes of watercolored memories

recollections flash before my eyes
revealing antiquated stories
though thought forgotten
an etched history endeavors to define me
renewing itself as i turn each corner

i shudder at some remembrances while encompassing others
through synchronicity realization hits
that I am all of it
yet none of it
at the same time

familiar faces paint meaning onto me
no longer do they know me
yet they airbrush vestiges of yesteryear
and coat me with connotations
i allow them to think i am whatever they imagine

i morph into their canvas temporarily
then break free in multi-dimensionality
they don't hear me with a new listening
no longer invested in their projections
once sharp triggers now appear in soft focus

an auspicious mist lies around the edges
of my former life
it is as if i never left
yet traces of the east lie sandpapered in me
a maturation commingles with my former self

flushing out on my skin
tethering newfound emotions
a gentle gratitude for home territory
nestles softly
inward

i listen to the clicks
of my scuffed cowboy boots
on acquainted yet somehow distant sidewalks
the echoes layering multiple impressions
glimmering with the utter beauty of this terrain

as I wander through the majestic rocky mountains
drinking in the quaking aspen's crimson edges
interfacing the evergreens
hushed whispers of autumn loftily rest
juxtaposed neatly against futures waiting to unfurl in the wind

an amalgamation of intimate sights and scents
dance in open wounds
dazzling
homesickness cured
a wholeness returned

as winter's crystal dawn blooms
i realize the depth of my growth
for in leaving here and returning
i cherish the west
my home

©2016 janetaylor
Arianna Feb 25
A strange thing happened tonight:

Tearing free from his diamond chains,
Cygnus' wings coated the stars with jade and honey,
ripping the Milky Way to threads
in the panic of a caged bird spurned by Freedom;

Pegasus, too, broke his fetters:
wings unhinged, arching for flight,
Galloping over the rooftops as I watched
from my little window
at the world outside quaking with the thunder of hooves and wings.
If the sky ever DID fall, I guess the constellations would want to evacuate... Oh wait. We're marooned on a rock in the sky too... :-0
Breon Oct 2018
All we want to hear about is love and
               Madness, wounds left in the mind
                              Where what's taken for granted
Was ripped out and scattered, just ash.
               Maybe just madness, then. Addicts
                              Left shaking their cupped hands
Trembling out aching, quaking desire
               Where stillness arrives with a kiss,
                              Where confession pours crimson,
A ****** of claret. Spilled into a glass,
               Sloshed across a tongue, breathing
                              Bitter, barren, dry - washed down
With another glass, until the flavor stains
               Teeth and tongue and lips. We are
                              What we drink: water and blood.
We are what we love: madness, confession.
               Does a ****** see in their subjects
                              The viscid revel of their own scars?
You are my
Ensorcelled Elysium,
You are my
Eden Dream.

You cascade
Upon my Dreamscape,
Enshrine my slumber in
A flowered gale of aromatic petals
That envelop me, beckon me
To herald the rebirth
Of Days of Yore.

You vein
The Glistening Glade of Memories
With your
Brooks of Aqueous Emerald.

Tis' the
Phantasmagoric Plane
Where still
My wayworn spirit wanders, wearily
In search of the magic
To enfetter
The Hands of Fate
(For they conspire against us).

Swifter than your descent
Into my soul
(Five seconds still and flat)
By
The nexus of your affections,
You evanesced
Like vapor,
Yet
I shall not concede to
The Malevolent Matriarch of Destiny.

For you
O, Breath of Life,
Forsook me not
So I sublime all stains
Tarnishing my flesh
By cries to The Ethereal.

At midday
Awaiting the Twilight
I long for
The birth of The Womb of Aether’s
Progeny,
Starlit winds.

I muse
Swimmingly in Seas of Reminiscence,
Banished from that Blackened Bastion
Of Shadowed Heavens,
For when darkness shrouds
My dreams can be seen
Draping the skies.

I then fathom,
You must not be far off,
Wishing,
Hoping,
Believing
That perhaps
You too
Wonder upon stars
Longing to find that one
That entwines us anew.

You shall alight,
Upon me once more
As
August Sun’s Nimbus
(If only for a moment)
Is thwarted
By
Ebony Miasma
That drenches Cimmerian skies.

In search
Of Ardor’s Light abiding in
The Sylvan Shrine of Your Numinous Eyes
I plead that
The Crag oppress
The Coals of Tribulation,
Until my anguish is
A Diamond Heart.

The pilgrimage
I must bear,
Must be traveled by
The Adamantine alone.

Where have you gone,
Tree of Life?
Why have you withered,
Yggdrasil?

Do I possess
The Eradia of Souls,
By which you shall
Effloresce?

I would halt the cogs of time,
Relinquish my liberty,
To slumber for eternity
In crystal stasis
By your side.

Even in that crystalline quietude,
I would be eminent,
I would be exalted,
I would be ennobled,
In the knowingness that
Your
Stalwart Heart
Radiates
Just beside me.

I exhale Empyrean Winds
When rapt in reverie,
Yearning to be
Captive to your devotion,
Yours alone.

The Bliss of Your Most Holy Kiss
Would signet me
With the
Bounty of Your Name
Burnishing the skin
On my lips.

Though ephemeral,
Your presence divined,
Your presence
Was my anointing.

To be solaced
By the astral resonance emitted
By your touch
Sent the
Pulse of Nirvana
Surging, rippling,
Like a kaleidoscope tide,
Down my spine

You are
The Waters of Vitality
That floweth from
The Creeks of Eden,

You have been
Poured upon my palate
From the
Goblet of Redemption
That I may drinketh
Of
Supernal immortality.

When once again we meet,
Perhaps the tears you summoned
From my spirit
By your
Stirring caress
Shall have absolved me
Of the pangs
In loving a man
(And man alone).

Perhaps then,
The sentiments
I pine to profess,
Will resound.

A melody
Sung in legato,
A  mellifluous melisma,
Flawlessly delineated
And
Intonation in deiform
Or perhaps,
Flowering fioritura
Lacing airwaves,
By the Empress Coloratura.

Perhaps then, piety
Betwixt you and I,
Will waft the air
And I might then,
Permit my quaking body
To succumb to
You alone.

Until that morn,
I shall be vigilant,
Counting the Dawns,
Counting the Twilights,
Until
I can gaze
Into your forested eyes
If even for but a moment.

For even but a moment
Spent with you,
Will bleed a nostalgia
Across my mind's sky,
Painting clouds crimson with passion,
And
That I shall revere,
And
That shall last
And last
And,
Last… And
Last.

O, it will last,
To Elysian Infinity.


            I am a vestige,
               But I shall live once more,
                  In the light of memories
                       That blossom, are perennial,
                           And imbibe the dazed glory of the past
                       Until the past is vanquished
                 By a future that is fragrant
             With the mist of romance
          And eclipses the simulacrum,
       A fictitious sun of the infernal masquerade,
    The antithesis of the truest holy,
Then, rapture of life shall mystify no longer,
For the Numen of Truth,
  Shall cleanse creation without a drop of façade,
      His Providence shall emancipate the hollow,
             The Death of Dreams shall writhe
               In everlasting abeyance,
                 Absolving our wayward spirits,
                  The Winds of Change,
                  The Scourge of Pain,
               And
          The Loveless Wraiths
        That haunted our husks
      Shall be transcended for aeons,
  And tribulation made distant, made nebulous
As the Genesis of Time and Space itself
  For we embark on an exodus,
     Beseeching salvation to redeem us
        When the Requiem of Iniquity
           Is triumphed by everlasting cadence.

Be Valiant,
                 Be Sapient,
                             Be Love
                                       And
                                          By this
                                                You shall conquer the world
                                                           ∞
Hello my fellow comrades! This piece was originally written as a means of catharsis. I wanted to express the romantic sentiments begotten by an individual who deliquesced from my world as swiftly as they arrived. I hope you guys can glean virtues of humanity, poignancy, candor, and (an organic) transparency in this piece. I want to impress the density of reverence pulsing in my heart for the person who enraptured me by the thew of their tenderness and kindred spirit.

Hopefully the massive length of this piece does not deter from reading its contents. Holistically speaking, the volume of content in this piece is the metaphorical incarnation of the Ocean of Affection that ebbs and flows within my soul (for this individual). I would love to improve, so if you have any constructive feedback you'd like to convey I would be most grateful. Anyhow, I hope that on some level you can connect with the overtones of undying piety in love that deluge this piece. Thank you all for reading and God bless!
Wrists bleeding
Heart leading
Mind screaming
Out for help

Eyes glazing
Brain blazing
Pain raising
Higher now

Hands shaking
Thoughts quaking
Voices making
Me insane

Temples banging
Cymbals clanging
Life hanging
By a thread

Stop breathing
Chest heaving
Mind leaving
Me to die
Having a bad day mentally.
blue mercury Oct 2018
i want to tell a story about the colors in the trees.

i want to tell you about the quaking in my hands.

i want you to know where the rain falls,
how the crashing voices
sound like waves in the night time,
tugged tides tied to the moon
like a leash to a dog.

i want to give you something to regret.

i want you to recall how i, in all of my
innocence and passion
fell over you
(in concentrated lust
but also romance)
on that day in late may,
how you held
my bare body against yours
how in that moment
i remembered nothing but skin and skin
and
skin, nothing
but firsts,
but blessings
but

i want you to wonder how the holy swallow their love.
(i have confirmed, they do it like one would pomegranate seeds- with their eyes shut, but you wouldn't know)

i want you to believe you lost a good thing.
there's love grown in my belly the way
i was told watermelon patches would when
i was young and didn't
know any better.

i want to say that i didn't know you would destroy me.
that the rips under my skin were a shock
the ice-pick to my heart was unexpected.

i want to say something
but all that comes out is
i'm sorry
not knowing what i'm sorry for.
my heart aches, but i'm living
MicMag Aug 2018
.
              (  (  growing gray cloud of smoke and ash  ) )
              (  (  expanding mass of poisonous gas  ) )
                         (  ( billowing upwards into the air ) )           a
                            (  (    dark    omen    of    )  ) ­                   s
                                 (  (      despair      )   )                         h
      (    \           //    )  
                                       (   \        //   )                                 g
                                           (  \     //  )                                     e
                                              \\\  /////                                        n
                       ­                         \\\/////                                           t
                                         the                                                     l
                                    peak's        top           ­                         y
exploding     right off
                       glacial snows melting down                       f
                     lava flows heading for the town                     a
                   terror! destruction! fright erupting out                   l
               extinct beast awakens, roaring primal shout                  l
           mountain trembling, earth shaking, people quaking           s
       in fear and wonder, transfixed by summit torn asunder       
fire and fury blend with the sky as we flee and ponder why
we await this rage from the earth but the beauty makes it worth
all the deadly risks we know we face in living at this volcano's base
I recently visited some stunning towns
sitting at the base of active volcanoes.

I was left contemplating this tension
between the beauty and potential carnage.

(This one doesn't seem to look quite right on a phone.
Try it with a rotated screen.)
Justan Rahming Sep 2018
unrealized movements
inside of one's own head–
quaking knees and twitching hands
sitting slouched and rocking

Spine starts to slide–
relief is but a brief afterthought
as the proper gesture arises
the soles are unearthed

Starting to move as if it can stand
Its inevitable move forward

Get up, time to go
Caitlin Apr 15
I love him.
Yeah, he's loud but its just who he is.
He's a Yankee,
and I'm a Belle.
I've learned to live with it.

I love him.

We set each other aflame
Sometimes with desire
sometimes with raging fire.
But its okay.
The heat is fine.

I love him.

My breath is heavy
and my inhale quick
Maybe a panic attack?
Maybe from ****.
We're back to yelling
the neighbors hear.
We're just passionate.
Its our dynamic?
Oh God, its our dynamic.

I love him.

He loves me.
Its why I'm shaking
and he's shaking
and we can't comfort the other
because the world would shatter
from the quaking.

I love him.

From over there though.
And I'm tired.
I'll take my pills
and beg him to take his.
And will be better in the morning.
I wake at 8.
He wakes at 10.
It'll be better in the morning.
Mental illness, especially when both people have it, in marriage is hard. Some days are harder than others.
Fọlá Mar 4
We touch.
My heart stops.
You come close,
My breath hits a pause.

You taunt, You tease.
The space between us shortens.
We kiss;
Sweet, The taste of your lips.

You nibble, You pinch.
The tension is building up.
The pace quickens,
Frantic, as our clothes come off.

You take the reigns,
Slithering your way on top.
You part the way,
Guiding me in,
My body quivering.

With every ******,
You speed up,
Gently.
Your body gliding along.
Stroking swiftly.
Moaning, with every motion.

Sweat dripping,
Every breath; fast, short.
The wind seems to stop.
As if taking a moment to watch.

A few yards left to run;
Our bodies respond,
The tempo picking up.
God, Oh God.
The Deity you start to call.

We push our limits,
Hanging on for a little more.
We go deeper,
Our bodies quaking,
Shuddering.

You grip my body,
Your nails digging into my skin.
For dear life, you hold on.
Squeezing tighter, as the moment comes.

Waves of euphoria crashing.
An explosion of Ecstasy.
All the hard work and effort,
Gone. In a few seconds. . .
Empire May 7
Sunny skies
Caffeine-induced euphoria
Loud rock music
Feel the pounding beat
Of my pulse with the bass
Hands quaking
But I actually am
Kind of fine
For once
I sit and savor
Smiles and heartbeats
John Destalo Dec 2018
The pulsing,
the throbbing
of the magic orb
beckons me
downward.

The sun set early
quaking in fear
at the prospect
of my appearance.

The moon is nothing
but a faded memory.

The sky is lit up
by my entrails.

I crash land

exploding into your fertile spaces,
becoming a spectacle,
becoming a god.

I am a rock.
I am a star.
I am a rock star

baby.
My favorite poem to read out loud…gives me power!
Elizz Jul 2018
Quaking Earth shattering Revolting
And I'm in the middle of it
My heart is at least
I didn't realize or notice that it got so big able to lumber out of my chest
I guess that's ok because I can't do anything about it
Just like I couldn't do anything about the fire rising up behind "me"
You aren't with me I don't get to hear your laugh anymore
Sprinkling down through ivy covered walls
You aren't with me
I've realized that a lot
But I also realize that when I get up in the morning
Or in most cases never going to sleep to begin with
The moon a lovely
Complicit pale lover
Never questioning me
Never worrying me
Listening when I need to talk
And instead of telling me what to do
Or telling me what I'm doing wrong
it just listens
I knew it wasn't a mistake when I fell for your pale face
It was a mistake when I started liking someone
Who's face didn't stay impressively passive when looking at me
It was a mistake to fall out of orbit
For someone who never wanted to be free
From the confines of gravity
To  come into my sky
You know sometimes
I can still see your shadow
Just out of the corner of my eye
The way your hair would fall
How your eyes would even enrapture the sun
You aren't mine anymore
But the sun still deigns to rise
And the moon still loves me
I can't get back the love and adoration
I gave you over the past five years
And as I said I still see your shadow sometimes
But you aren't mine
And that's ok
Because even though you never cared
About being the meteor that knocked me out of orbit
I still cared about you being happy
Even when it wasn't with me
Even when it isn't with me
And each day since
I've gotten off of the ground
More and more
So thanks
For the broken insecurities
For the things that I never wanted
Thanks for submerging me into a vat
Made out of stress and emotional pain
Thanks
For the new sense of orbit
And the new outlook
And that sometimes
Dreams shatter
Possibilities shatter
But that's ok
Because when they shatter
The fractures
Lead to new doors
really really old four years at best
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