"radiations" poems
*Elemental Metamorphosis & Transcendental Milestones,
Sempiternal Origamis Of Her Temperamental Clones,
Spiraling Perpetuities & Her Sacrosanct Fortitude,
Procreating Tipsy Ruptures In Her Permeating Solitude,
Perplexed Momentum & Her Outlandish Constellations,
Nuclear Decay Of Her Masked Radiations,
Verbal Shadows & Her Tranquil Ascendance,
Encasing Her Tears In Liquefied Transcendence,
Yearning Oddities & Entropic Oceans,
Vitalizing Inexorable Emotions Into Phosphorescent Potions,
An Hourglass Existence Of Her Fabricated Virility,
Dwelling In Quantum Ascents Of Ardent Agility,
Silver Ghosts Of Her Prismatic Abyss,
Convicting Glass Houses In Her Ecstatic Bliss,
Telepathic Shades & Hollow Palisades,
Detrimental Novelists On Uncharted Crusades,
Pernicious Scars In Her Profound Gaze,
Erupting Genesis Inside Her Dimensional Maze,
Perplexed Periphery & Digital Fictions,
Annexed By Her Hourglass Depictions,
Breakdown Sanity & Her Concealed Screams,
Lifelike Dewdrops In Her Visionary Dreams,
Satellite Searchlights & Love//Less Progenic Mutation,
Paralyzed Sunlight Sparking Genetic Alteration,
Monochromatic Streams & Cinematic Realms,
Static Screams Of Her Toxic Schemes.
- 05:43 AM -*
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 11:18 PM UTC
*Silent Killer,
A Predator’s Smile,
A Guise Engulfed In Disguise,
A Child of Immaculate Torment,
Her Diamond Lies, Insidiously Advent.
Lost In Her Radiations,
Trapped In Her Demented Seductions,
Fenced By Her Hype,
Immersed In Her Gripe.
As The Clicker Goes Down,
The Ideals Start To Facedown,
As I Cauterize In Her Suicides,
Ashes Divide,
Weeping For Absolution,
Filled With Consternation,
Her Angel Eye’s Smirk, As I Charred Alive,
Screams Slowly Vanishing In Void,
Devoid Dismantled,
Lured By Her Lust,
Transcending To Dust....
- 03:07AM*
Mar 7, 2017
Mar 7, 2017 at 4:37 PM UTC
oh, the fire with its dancing beams
welcomes each morning with hues so bright,
engorges as the globe circumnavigates,
fading, dissolving, with approaching night.
the clouds play tag with the ball of gas:
covering, as curtains - some thin, others thick.
mighty Cumulonimbus precedes the drops;
delicate Cirrus wisps are the sky’s speckled pick.
the forests serve as shadows for all the horizon:
redwood to palm, soaking up a meal
from the glowing radiations that branch out;
the rooted ground is theirs to steal.
the species of the world adapt to its clock.
majestic elephants roam while the glows remain,
and owls wait for the blackness to settle;
everything in its path is cured of their pain.
Oct 23, 2022
Oct 23, 2022 at 8:13 AM UTC
It was dark inside me, it was darker inside of him.
We were like two black holes, lingering in this universe of love.
And I guess you know what happens when two black holes collide;
They become one.
No explosions, no radiations, no words said, no screams, nothing.
We just became one.
-Nupur Dua
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 3:15 AM UTC
To watch the clouds roll on the firmaments plain,
Both within, and without, their expression won't wait
Observe sun-lit rain falling all in silkened threads,
Descending to proclaim 'earths rock be thy dream bed'
There water grew static as a new storm of green
An epoch of floral tempests only the sky had then seen
Inspired perhaps by radiations spectroscopic artistries
They desired to wear waves from 495 to 570
What mad dreams the clouds cried out of such passion to be
Miraculous life, the nuclear fruit bore from star to tree
Matter motioned towards conscious devotion to survive
Unconscious becoming conscious predation of others nuclear awareness' to stay just a while consciously alive
Electronivorous cardiomagnetics emanating fields of matter fine
Introspective auric spheres vibrate to harmonies a'chime
Such hearts all a-hum to dimensions they defined
And so from a singularity there would be a beautiful mind
What flowers that bloom on these electric fields,
The art-forms, machinations that matters personal reality yields
Richest pollen for the mind is the written fantasy
Colourful petals formed by guitar pedals is one beings audio-mis en scene
How many depictions for the eyes there are of Venus' divine bodies
No greater art form than complementing aspect, force, and frequency
Oh First Cloud, sailing horizons where one never sees the limitless sky
For there is naught else to compare, no antithesis or edge to help define
We find there forms for pleasure, pain, ideals, but not answers to the neu(t)rons darkest, heaviest dreams
Flung through a universe without Dao, only gravity and dopamine
Matter would politicise, while surfing a rock in a black sea round just one of many long blazing days
Their surfing worlds, mirrors of radiation coursing through an existential void-walled maze
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 1:01 AM UTC
Half past Midnight
(30 minutes listening to the rain)
W B Burkholder
It’s midnight, and the rain taps at my window wanting to be let in and warm its tears at my fire. I place no blame upon them, for the streets are cold and uncaring. We all search for warmth, that firelight; its embers red glow beckoning, rendering rose cheeks and outstretched hands. Its warmth unique, the type that only comes from seasoned wood and crackling coals. There are those who have never felt this, never experienced these radiations of licking tendrils, this dance of blue and orange. Destitute; searching for a place to rest and revive.
Such are the conditions of the heart, the conditions of the unloved and uncared for.
They actively seek warmth, and for life’s struggles and its reasons, this flame eludes them. It is easy to be subjective and make the judgments based on ones own lessons. But who am I to judge another’s fire, another’s passion? Is it what we place into the fire that dictates its burn? Our proverbial “sowing”, if you will?
I speak only of this poet and his fore’s into the depths of sowing rancid rows. Of reaping that of which the piper tallies and sets forth. For the piper is always near, hands outstretched, his payment never absent from his mind. We all shall pay this piper at one time or another.
Karma, come-uppance, enlightenment, epiphany? Call it what you will, understand it and reflect upon it in the glowing embers of your own fires. This hearth, life whereupon the kindling waits to be set ablaze with idea and discovery. Its half past midnight, and the rains speaks to me, and tells me this tale.
Jan 8, 2011
Jan 8, 2011 at 2:40 PM UTC
Icy clusters of rocks and dust, leftovers
Of extra matter scattered around a star.
Following the orbit guiding a perpetual run,
For seeing creatures to gaze at midnight skies
In search of glistening shooting lights.
Comets, so named by the ancient man,
Enchant humans to strive and understand,
Beholding their subliming approach to the Sun,
Where radiations and winds melt solids to sparkle
Spews of gas. An aura, a coma and a tail.
Nebulosity inclosing the nucleus confers
On the object a misty glow, distinguishing it
Form a star, hiding water in volatile form.
Tails extending to astronomical units lose
Trails of debris at times, visible to the naked eye.
When finally orbital highways cross,
Meteor showers arise. Debris igniting
As falling stars, enter the atmosphere.
Perseids in August begot by Swift-Tuttle
Comet, Orionids in October by Halley's.
Games of splendour to remind us where
We come from and how it all began.
When antediluvian comets did not shy away
From colliding unswervingly with Earth,
Reach its crust. Inundating the planet with H2O,
For us to be here, witness the show.
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 5:02 AM UTC
Fertile precincts of toxic air, colourless
And unstable create, inexistent boundaries
Of oxygen ***** by electrical discharges
Ultraviolet caress. An atom more turns
The unscented scent into a pungent odour,
Pale blue molecules high temperatures detonate
While low ones, solidify in violet black coagula,
Generous enough to retain, for humanity
And wildlife and all beneath, a gaseous form
Up high to shield, the delicate planet hosting
Sparkles of consciousness from its star’s deadly
Compromising radiations, absorbing them to grant
A frail, balance through its presence in stratosphere
We know, as our fragile sheltering ozone layer,
Descending just a little lower to become once more,
Breathable life bearing oxygen penetrating
Our lungs inundating a system, flowing through
Veins where the pale blue molecules spring only,
Every now and then in white blood cells, fighting
Illful intruders ensuring, survival of amazing wonders.
Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 1:59 AM UTC
It's corrupting my soul
And emitting words
Like radiations from a forgotten planet
They had been soiled
Earthed to the ground
But the liquor makes my tongue languid
And pertinently corrupt
I've sent a few messages
They're undeniable
They'll not only disappear like smoke in the haze
They will make me choke on my tongue
They'll leave me intoxicated
Crush your expectations
Certainly.
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 12:20 PM UTC
Let the words flow into thoughts ???
we're driving I have goosebumps I contemplate the idea of
you
I just want to trace your collar bones
your hip bones
your spine
your mind with my
tongue
lips
finger tips
that cinnamon skin those
eyes they look like le paradis but they say
you don't know me at all
you don't know me at all
****
the way your body moves when vibrations travel through it I wonder if it would stir as well to the rhythm of my sighs your moans our music our symphony
baby
let me become fluent in your body language
let me make your eyes roll back
très **** en arrière
let me give you what
is
left of me
let me give you a new kind
of high of sensation let me give you
chills
let me
soak in
your radiations
your colors
let my lips leave traces of
black of
blue of
violet
sh in places nobody will see
let me paint your naked body with black acrylic and kisses let's
just escape under the sheets in
the heart of the woods in
a field of long green in
each others hair in
your words lost in
the bottom of the ocean the sun reflects manipulated beams of warmth against your face all wavy dancing along your lips maybe I can replace the sun do you think she'll mind let's
go skinny dipping in our intertwined thoughts let's
oh god you're so ******* beautiful
"kiss me ???"
"no"
oh
https://soundcloud.com/leplan/wax-tailor-que-sera
Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 2:09 AM UTC
Hiroshima was destroyed
by the infuriation
of the 'Little Boy'
By extraordinarily intelligent
3 pound brains
and by few well trained
subservient hands
When you were
sitting in your arm chair
and thinking
of
colouring your grey hairs,
each part of a city
a colourful, beautiful city
was burning helplessly
and
what remained was
powder of burnt
innocent eyes, veins, bones
and humanity
in the air
Radiance of morning sun
was no more bright
Nothing was left,
that could be termed as red, pink, blue
or white
Ask
open eyes of the dead bodies.
those were not turned into ash
they might have seen
struggle of sun rays
to cross the air above
them
dark and black
But in that acute darkness,
where even dreams were
not able to
cultivate hope,
each dead body protects
a small bright area
may be a tiny spot
from the radiations
under them
and those were the areas
where
camellias popped up
in that spring
again
Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 8:40 AM UTC
It is in the similarity and in wonder
Facing our absurdity
That we choose the difference
Or if it is not the difference
A reversal of the way
A divergence
Noticing the futility
A sudden glitch of us in the other
Decision taken
Evolve into something that is not similar
With the change comes a certain sense of
Loneliness
The price of difference to be grasped
At the bottom
The abyss of remorse
There must be an essential gap
It spreads
It is contagious
The joy of living
A spacing so that some might be able
To consider our limpidity
Wanting to be worth something
While disappearing
Past the curtains of misfortune
Most of the time it is just a fly pretending
While landing on one of our knees
Notices us or makes us believe to have
Noticed our presence or absence
Then set behind the horizon
Your hair burns in a bright glare
Losing sight of your sight
Going beyond the highest layer
Of the atmosphere
Where no fruit-fly is allowed to tip
The concavity of their net eyes
There is where
We are finally lost
In a collapse of consciousness
A submergence of bitterness
Understand oneself too much
Aware, beware
And then
It is not abandonment nor despair
It is the inconvenience of weariness
The flatness of nothing
No longer really carrying the importance
Of things on ones back
Since it is absolute blasting
The end of life and radiations
Become dull on the wheel
Always rolling all the way down
Heal
From the atrocity of being
At last
Finally dead-alive
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 6:48 AM UTC
Work is less and
Jobless is blown
Struggle is high
The result is zero
And earth heated
Greens are fading
Breath insufficient
For all C emission
And all radiations
Yet, the brain is bright
And the heart working
Because, green is well
In the spaces of farm...
Feb 12, 2022
Feb 12, 2022 at 3:27 AM UTC
Expose yourself to the natural radiations of life, the cosmic waves of energy, so that even when you’re in darkness, you’ll still be emitting light, become phosphorescent.
Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 7:26 PM UTC
The non-stop tampering of the glow,
The Sunday moon drops in expiration,
Illuminating the sky with it's beauty,
Sparks rejuvenate,
The white light dies in spreading red hot rays by the sun,
The powerful and absorbent radiations,
Enveloping each and every soul in its blanket,
Lustrous enchant,
Creeks through the curtains,
Awakening me from my slumber.
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 12:47 PM UTC
What is this man,
Can you tell me?
Man is a spirit.
The spirit is man.
Man, the spirit.
The Spirit man.
Both are blended into
one spiritual force.
The spirit man is from above
and is heavenly,
while the man is physical
and is earthly.
This man and that man
lives in a physical body,
possessing the power of both
the upper world and the lower world.
Two different kingdoms infused into one.
Converged in his being are
complex and multiple nature and
thought patterns interwoven within
his mind in resonance to the
influence of the spirit man.
Both are infused
and encapsulated together
into one whole essence.
The spirit man becomes more in tuned
to the octaves and radiations
within the balanced rhythmic
interchange of the cosmic forces
and intuitively linked to both internal
and external wavelength.
The consciousness of the mind of man
recognizes this fact,
and dynamically helps you within
to live in harmonium when you find
the rhythm that balances and centres you. ©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 5:28 PM UTC