"redefined" poems - Hello Poetry

"redefined" poems

The Violent Storm by the Water (Do You Trust Your Imagination) was not unexpected but its fury was without compare, poet awake in semi-preparation living by water should be a human right for all, even a small room, overlooking, gives new meaning to perspective we blessed with a patio door, encased in a glass window big enough for a smallish elephant to come visit and play with children a storm is observed up close and personal as if one was in an IMAX 3D theater, and the edges of existence were being redefined, sharpened by fury, tooled by tools untouched by mortal hands miles of bay illuminated with bass drum furious accompaniment stand before the screen, poets arms outstretched as a supplicant, the light of the lightening passes through him, yet , behind me, she still sleeps then the entire house shakes, reverberates, as if to say: ”tremble humans, cower, you are not permitted to watch my majesty, for such it was when created heaven and earth” bold poet window worshipping risky answers: “but who will know if even a poet cannot declaim sights no one else has seen?” ”true, true, but you must choose if poet truly, do you trust your imagination human, to prove that the powers of the heavens are limitless?” write of storms unseen and nature endless miracles ***”then you may call yourself a miracle too, a poet***”

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Aug 12, 2018

Aug 12, 2018 at 12:14 PM UTC

The Violent Storm by the Water (Do You Trust Your Imagination)

The Violent Storm by the Water (Do You Trust Your Imagination) was not unexpected but its fury was without compare, poet awake in semi-preparation living by water should be a human right for all, even a small room, overlooking, gives new meaning to perspective we blessed with a patio door, encased in a glass window big enough for a smallish elephant to come visit and play with children a storm is observed up close and personal as if one was in an IMAX 3D theater, and the edges of existence were being redefined, sharpened by fury, tooled by tools untouched by mortal hands miles of bay illuminated with bass drum furious accompaniment stand before the screen, poets arms outstretched as a supplicant, the light of the lightening passes through him, yet , behind me, she still sleeps then the entire house shakes, reverberates, as if to say: ”tremble humans, cower, you are not permitted to watch my majesty, for such it was when created heaven and earth” bold poet window worshipping risky answers: “but who will know if even a poet cannot declaim sights no one else has seen?” ”true, true, but you must choose if poet truly, do you trust your imagination human, to prove that the powers of the heavens are limitless?” write of storms unseen and nature endless miracles ***”then you may call yourself a miracle too, a poet***”

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Stories and poems Love and shared coffees Bus rides and jokes I saw the sun glimmering The corners crept in The room became smaller Breathing got harder and voices became more My body became a canvas of my own doing The blood became more and the smile slipped away in the dark I became lost in a world of Bipolar Depression With a new mixture of pills of various variety of color The line between reality and fantasy became blury Until a line was no more I found comfort in creating art over my arms hidden by clothes My days became a mixture of pills and emotional outbursts It was like falling asleep, slowly at first and then all together I was destroyed I was distorted I was redefined by darkness of late night cries I was no more I became a silent void I became nothing I became defined by my illness I became my worst fear I am a beautiful void I am I am I am lost and captured in a glass jar labeled December Bipolar I am no more

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Jun 20, 2016

Jun 20, 2016 at 7:03 AM UTC

dian-micheal-marcovecchio

December Bipolar

Stories and poems Love and shared coffees Bus rides and jokes I saw the sun glimmering The corners crept in The room became smaller Breathing got harder and voices became more My body became a canvas of my own doing The blood became more and the smile slipped away in the dark I became lost in a world of Bipolar Depression With a new mixture of pills of various variety of color The line between reality and fantasy became blury Until a line was no more I found comfort in creating art over my arms hidden by clothes My days became a mixture of pills and emotional outbursts It was like falling asleep, slowly at first and then all together I was destroyed I was distorted I was redefined by darkness of late night cries I was no more I became a silent void I became nothing I became defined by my illness I became my worst fear I am a beautiful void I am I am I am lost and captured in a glass jar labeled December Bipolar I am no more

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*Past is rigid Can’t change Present is vivid Hold the rein Future is ghost Figment insane* Bharti

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Aug 19, 2014

Aug 19, 2014 at 6:15 AM UTC

Redefined Tenses

*Past is rigid Can’t change Present is vivid Hold the rein Future is ghost Figment insane* Bharti

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The gold that flows, through our elaborate veins, The crop that is known, by many names, The gift that alleviates, our daytime pains, The commodity that plays, one too many games. Our world is nothing, but a bottomless mine, Simply waiting, for the wrath and plunder of humankind, Oh labourers please, wait your spot in line, For it was not you that made, this incredible find. You’re a fool to think, the system needs a redesign, For your fate and this chain, are forever intertwined. Stay in your corner, as they wine and dine, For it is you not them, contained by this chain’s bind. Posing as a gift, that elevates their daily grind, The brown gold is no longer, part of your bloodline, It was their chains after all, that made this incredible find, For it now flows away, from the Plateau’s skyline. You continue to hope, for these chains to be redefined, But to imagine you even exist to them, is asinine, Yet you believe a consumer movement, would be so inclined, For you forget that chains were made, to always confine.

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Jul 27, 2019

Jul 27, 2019 at 3:55 AM UTC

The Chains of Brown Gold

The gold that flows, through our elaborate veins, The crop that is known, by many names, The gift that alleviates, our daytime pains, The commodity that plays, one too many games. Our world is nothing, but a bottomless mine, Simply waiting, for the wrath and plunder of humankind, Oh labourers please, wait your spot in line, For it was not you that made, this incredible find. You’re a fool to think, the system needs a redesign, For your fate and this chain, are forever intertwined. Stay in your corner, as they wine and dine, For it is you not them, contained by this chain’s bind. Posing as a gift, that elevates their daily grind, The brown gold is no longer, part of your bloodline, It was their chains after all, that made this incredible find, For it now flows away, from the Plateau’s skyline. You continue to hope, for these chains to be redefined, But to imagine you even exist to them, is asinine, Yet you believe a consumer movement, would be so inclined, For you forget that chains were made, to always confine.

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Perhaps, We have a worldview, that has turned a bit myopic. Perhaps, We need a checkup from a doctor for Our optics, Perhaps, We need for them to write Us out a new prescription, then Perhaps, We'd see the truth in life that's written in inscription, Perhaps, the Earth is weeping somberly, but We don't care to listen, Perhaps, it warns us of Our doom when global profits are our mission Perhaps, the World is run by men, whose only drive is for themselves Perhaps, the few will **** the many, just for monetary wealth, Perhaps, We're all too blind to understand the implications, Perhaps, a future fraught with poverty and war is what We're facing Perhaps, a different train of thought, is faintly running by adjacent, Perhaps, it's one that wrests its life from the stagnation of complacence Perhaps, We're living forms of life that have been cast inside a mold Perhaps, estrangement from each other causes Our Hearts to grow cold Perhaps, all concentrated power's an illusion, We behold, Perhaps, We all could take it back, if We'd stop doing what We're told Perhaps, Our Being is unique, and isn't something predefined, Perhaps, Our priorities in life should they themselves be redefined, Perhaps, Our voices are of import, and should not be undermined, Perhaps, We all should organize, and build a world of new design Perhaps, it is the Media that keeps Us all divided, Perhaps, We should act neighborly and strive to be united, Perhaps, in living as a People, We would find Ourselves delighted, and Perhaps, We'd change the status quo, if We would only try to fight it.

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May 13, 2015

May 13, 2015 at 5:01 AM UTC

iliveinyourhead

Perhaps, We have a worldview, that has turned a bit myopic. Perhaps, We need a checkup from a doctor for Our optics, Perhaps, We need for them to write Us out a new prescription, then Perhaps, We'd see the truth in life that's written in inscription, Perhaps, the Earth is weeping somberly, but We don't care to listen, Perhaps, it warns us of Our doom when global profits are our mission Perhaps, the World is run by men, whose only drive is for themselves Perhaps, the few will **** the many, just for monetary wealth, Perhaps, We're all too blind to understand the implications, Perhaps, a future fraught with poverty and war is what We're facing Perhaps, a different train of thought, is faintly running by adjacent, Perhaps, it's one that wrests its life from the stagnation of complacence Perhaps, We're living forms of life that have been cast inside a mold Perhaps, estrangement from each other causes Our Hearts to grow cold Perhaps, all concentrated power's an illusion, We behold, Perhaps, We all could take it back, if We'd stop doing what We're told Perhaps, Our Being is unique, and isn't something predefined, Perhaps, Our priorities in life should they themselves be redefined, Perhaps, Our voices are of import, and should not be undermined, Perhaps, We all should organize, and build a world of new design Perhaps, it is the Media that keeps Us all divided, Perhaps, We should act neighborly and strive to be united, Perhaps, in living as a People, We would find Ourselves delighted, and Perhaps, We'd change the status quo, if We would only try to fight it.

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You rewrite my history with your love, My future is redefined with your lust, You tied me up with your love, And, I longed for your lust, You gave life to my life with your love, For I embraced a sweet death to be reborn with your lust, You turn hell to heaven, my angel of love, All while you slay me, my goddess of lust.

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May 13, 2018

May 13, 2018 at 3:18 PM UTC

My Goddess of Lust

You rewrite my history with your love, My future is redefined with your lust, You tied me up with your love, And, I longed for your lust, You gave life to my life with your love, For I embraced a sweet death to be reborn with your lust, You turn hell to heaven, my angel of love, All while you slay me, my goddess of lust.

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The poem was inspired by a particular photo of the WT C, and after that by my first visit to the 9/11 Memorial. On the day of 9/11, I was working about a diagonal mile away, and from our windows, we could see people jumping to their death. Open sky annulled to bordered lines of uptown edges, worldview momentarily forcibly redefined by memories of buildings and sadder days, recollections of pillars of biblical smoke rising A photograph makes me look up, and sit down historically, need to catch a breath, to rest mentally, upon a storied small bridge's steps, that I well recall, a disappeared street stoop. all were rubble then and once upon that day. Wear, tear, and older eyes distill perspective, but the hardy heart is hardly stilled by the recognizable gray upon bon vivant gray reflective surfaces of memories of buildings and sadder days So today, on a reborn street, I rest upon reconstituted speckled curbstone, the city's lowered down ledges, the city's lowered down-town boundaries, constantly redrawn, but nonetheless, always rebuilt from their own regenerated stony compost, and the NY passersby doesn't even notice a man, head in hands, silently weeping, thinking that: We throw away so much we should have kept. We keep so much we should have thrown away. Lose keepsakes, but keep our mysterious sadnesses locked away in compartments that open only to benedictions uttered in ancient tongues. Make your own list, be your own curator, catalogue visions of sophomoric triumphs, museum mile pile those early poetic drafts, be unafraid of memories raw and ungentrified, overlaid, buried underneath postmortem of dust-piles of senior critiques Finally went downtown to see where the blessed water falls into catacomb pits that once were the foundations of buildings that ruled the cityscape, downtown anchors for a modern city that exists only because it was built on million year old granite bedrock Stone monuments are stolid, discrete. Memories are of grayed, frayed edge consistency. Negatives resurrected that survive digitally, all blend synthetically, layer upon layer, essence distilled in a single, black and white photograph that serves to disturb complacency, awaken stilled pain, reflections suppressed, are restored

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Sep 11, 2013

Sep 11, 2013 at 6:36 PM UTC

The poem was inspired by a particular photo of the WT C, and after that by my first visit to the 9/11 Memorial. On the day of 9/11, I was working about a diagonal mile away, and from our windows, we could see people jumping to their death. Open sky annulled to bordered lines of uptown edges, worldview momentarily forcibly redefined by memories of buildings and sadder days, recollections of pillars of biblical smoke rising A photograph makes me look up, and sit down historically, need to catch a breath, to rest mentally, upon a storied small bridge's steps, that I well recall, a disappeared street stoop. all were rubble then and once upon that day. Wear, tear, and older eyes distill perspective, but the hardy heart is hardly stilled by the recognizable gray upon bon vivant gray reflective surfaces of memories of buildings and sadder days So today, on a reborn street, I rest upon reconstituted speckled curbstone, the city's lowered down ledges, the city's lowered down-town boundaries, constantly redrawn, but nonetheless, always rebuilt from their own regenerated stony compost, and the NY passersby doesn't even notice a man, head in hands, silently weeping, thinking that: We throw away so much we should have kept. We keep so much we should have thrown away. Lose keepsakes, but keep our mysterious sadnesses locked away in compartments that open only to benedictions uttered in ancient tongues. Make your own list, be your own curator, catalogue visions of sophomoric triumphs, museum mile pile those early poetic drafts, be unafraid of memories raw and ungentrified, overlaid, buried underneath postmortem of dust-piles of senior critiques Finally went downtown to see where the blessed water falls into catacomb pits that once were the foundations of buildings that ruled the cityscape, downtown anchors for a modern city that exists only because it was built on million year old granite bedrock Stone monuments are stolid, discrete. Memories are of grayed, frayed edge consistency. Negatives resurrected that survive digitally, all blend synthetically, layer upon layer, essence distilled in a single, black and white photograph that serves to disturb complacency, awaken stilled pain, reflections suppressed, are restored

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Come up north to see the great outdoors Rolling hills Scenes leaving you wanting more Never mind the weather Whether its rain or shine Grab a pint Sit down And enjoy our way of life Born and bred northern boy But no flat cap or corduroys Yorkshire til the day I die I'll represent that West Yorks sign Faithful to my northern life Faithful to my northern rhyme Brought up well with northern vibes Through hard times, miners strike Times when maggie thatcher tried to stir up **** with lies designed Got miners and police to fight But don't believe that southern hype... Those brutal battles gave us life It redefined our future times Redefined our future lines Redefined the northern kind Redefined our northern humour Redefined our northern style Tourists come from far and wide to find out what the North is like Expecting lack of cultured life Surprised we're not uncultured swines Rewarded with our northern minds Our northern ways Our northern lives Come up north to see the great outdoors Rolling hills Scenes leaving you wanting more Never mind the weather Whether its rain or shine Grab a pint Sit down Enjoy our way of life

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Jan 26, 2016

Jan 26, 2016 at 3:50 PM UTC

Come up north to see the great outdoors Rolling hills Scenes leaving you wanting more Never mind the weather Whether its rain or shine Grab a pint Sit down And enjoy our way of life Born and bred northern boy But no flat cap or corduroys Yorkshire til the day I die I'll represent that West Yorks sign Faithful to my northern life Faithful to my northern rhyme Brought up well with northern vibes Through hard times, miners strike Times when maggie thatcher tried to stir up **** with lies designed Got miners and police to fight But don't believe that southern hype... Those brutal battles gave us life It redefined our future times Redefined our future lines Redefined the northern kind Redefined our northern humour Redefined our northern style Tourists come from far and wide to find out what the North is like Expecting lack of cultured life Surprised we're not uncultured swines Rewarded with our northern minds Our northern ways Our northern lives Come up north to see the great outdoors Rolling hills Scenes leaving you wanting more Never mind the weather Whether its rain or shine Grab a pint Sit down Enjoy our way of life

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We are the disconnect community. We think, therefore we are. We blink, therefor we see the ticking, flicking florescent FIVE HUNDRED. A personal "connection-collection" of mine. 500 pieces of redefining human identity as bees in a hive. Buzzing. Whirring. Chatting. A world can be displayed on a single screen of ticking, flicking florescent FIVE HUNDRED. All tuned in. *All turning into hive minded creatures. Degeneration at it's best. For the most advanced generation, We are zombies disguised as cyborgs; carrying our hearts literally out on our sleeves. For home, I'm told, is where the heart is. And though books say it's in our chests, One look and tell you "Homepage" is handheld. And with the world in the palm of your hand, the rest comes fast, calm and easy. Like breathing, But without feeling. Invisible networks bond the inner workings Like an ultra-cranium. Or a hive, dangling precariously over the valley. Lives, carelessly unaware that a bow can break when it forgets it's roots. Like jumping in puddles in rubber boots. The difference between what's easy and what's simple. The little girl on Youtube who can't flip a page of a magaizine because all she know's are HD touch screens. Learning to type before learning to write. Obesity, skyrocketing to a sun we barely lay eyes on. One by one, we stop hooking up, and get hooked up to the trending crazes. Hang up. Telenophobics praised. E-mail and texts. Social skills wrecked. Eye contact replaced with descontent looks. Pirating crooks Torenting video games, DVDs &books.; The 25th of December is more for toys than the son of God. You can't remember the last time you went fishing with your dad, because you've been too busy playing C.O.D. Unplugged is savagery. but escapism with a drug by any name is just as inhumane. Just as fatal. For all the blinking, and thinking, chattering, babbling 500 redefined "friends", Can you easily feel alive when it's more simple to call us dead? Do you know all your neighbors names without checking online? Can you understand relationships, as they were meant to be?* We are the disconnect community. Cut out "unity". Leave the rest for our virtual home page address.

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Aug 18, 2012

Aug 18, 2012 at 2:36 AM UTC

We are the disconnect community. We think, therefore we are. We blink, therefor we see the ticking, flicking florescent FIVE HUNDRED. A personal "connection-collection" of mine. 500 pieces of redefining human identity as bees in a hive. Buzzing. Whirring. Chatting. A world can be displayed on a single screen of ticking, flicking florescent FIVE HUNDRED. All tuned in. *All turning into hive minded creatures. Degeneration at it's best. For the most advanced generation, We are zombies disguised as cyborgs; carrying our hearts literally out on our sleeves. For home, I'm told, is where the heart is. And though books say it's in our chests, One look and tell you "Homepage" is handheld. And with the world in the palm of your hand, the rest comes fast, calm and easy. Like breathing, But without feeling. Invisible networks bond the inner workings Like an ultra-cranium. Or a hive, dangling precariously over the valley. Lives, carelessly unaware that a bow can break when it forgets it's roots. Like jumping in puddles in rubber boots. The difference between what's easy and what's simple. The little girl on Youtube who can't flip a page of a magaizine because all she know's are HD touch screens. Learning to type before learning to write. Obesity, skyrocketing to a sun we barely lay eyes on. One by one, we stop hooking up, and get hooked up to the trending crazes. Hang up. Telenophobics praised. E-mail and texts. Social skills wrecked. Eye contact replaced with descontent looks. Pirating crooks Torenting video games, DVDs &books.; The 25th of December is more for toys than the son of God. You can't remember the last time you went fishing with your dad, because you've been too busy playing C.O.D. Unplugged is savagery. but escapism with a drug by any name is just as inhumane. Just as fatal. For all the blinking, and thinking, chattering, babbling 500 redefined "friends", Can you easily feel alive when it's more simple to call us dead? Do you know all your neighbors names without checking online? Can you understand relationships, as they were meant to be?* We are the disconnect community. Cut out "unity". Leave the rest for our virtual home page address.

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I erupted through that birth canal, My mind was never narrow it must of hurt my mama, ow! I used to hate my cousins how miss them, nephew looks older now. I promised I will never leave them ,but Chiraq got more dangerous how? Lost a friend, put a poster up Have you seen this child? Bro, can't you just grow up I redefined existence, Instead of finding God, I found religion I am just a product of what my dad, and mom were sippin’ Every second is pivotal, the sand of times went digital try to pass God my problems, but every play's a give and go Smacked my face through these walls, fight battles that ain’t mine spit similar similes sing symphonies to this heart of mine, But if I pray long enough will I continue to sin Will God give up or will I give in? Someone took my innocence, but gave me a voice Tell free will I am sorry but I never had a choice.

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Dec 11, 2014

Dec 11, 2014 at 9:49 PM UTC

I erupted through that birth canal, My mind was never narrow it must of hurt my mama, ow! I used to hate my cousins how miss them, nephew looks older now. I promised I will never leave them ,but Chiraq got more dangerous how? Lost a friend, put a poster up Have you seen this child? Bro, can't you just grow up I redefined existence, Instead of finding God, I found religion I am just a product of what my dad, and mom were sippin’ Every second is pivotal, the sand of times went digital try to pass God my problems, but every play's a give and go Smacked my face through these walls, fight battles that ain’t mine spit similar similes sing symphonies to this heart of mine, But if I pray long enough will I continue to sin Will God give up or will I give in? Someone took my innocence, but gave me a voice Tell free will I am sorry but I never had a choice.

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The crystal was perfectly aligned. It exposed an image of the day I left seamlessly. But it also echoed the future, the design of tomorrow. I wouldn’t follow my wildest dreams, but I couldn’t say the misuse was improbable. To the next phase in my elegant maneuver, I gather the strength from my abysmal insides. Wide open were the gates of hell. I withheld. Then continued, as the outline of forever, forever guided me. Time was traveled. And as passing eras bettered my intellectual design, I redefined the reality of Sir Hawkins. Time travel. So true. My speed was increasing, as was my very corpus. *And as it did, so I transcended.* Amended such as our legitimate antiquity of the dickity desire. The feeling of an outwordly choir singing you to sleep while injecting you with futuristic methyl-amphetamines. I dreamt of better things, but too late. For I've descended into tomorrow, and the decisions of the borrowed souls will cease to follow.

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Dec 2, 2013

Dec 2, 2013 at 4:22 AM UTC

The crystal was perfectly aligned. It exposed an image of the day I left seamlessly. But it also echoed the future, the design of tomorrow. I wouldn’t follow my wildest dreams, but I couldn’t say the misuse was improbable. To the next phase in my elegant maneuver, I gather the strength from my abysmal insides. Wide open were the gates of hell. I withheld. Then continued, as the outline of forever, forever guided me. Time was traveled. And as passing eras bettered my intellectual design, I redefined the reality of Sir Hawkins. Time travel. So true. My speed was increasing, as was my very corpus. *And as it did, so I transcended.* Amended such as our legitimate antiquity of the dickity desire. The feeling of an outwordly choir singing you to sleep while injecting you with futuristic methyl-amphetamines. I dreamt of better things, but too late. For I've descended into tomorrow, and the decisions of the borrowed souls will cease to follow.

Continue reading...

My life isn't much, save for bleakness that had lasted long It was dark time that made every right seem wrong Finally a day came when everything was altered It was the height of period when I would surely have faltered. Like rays breaking through the thickest of clouds Like blades ripping through the heaviest shrouds The rays they illuminate and allowed me to see The blades they cut and slash, to reveal so desperately. With the light shining bright, hand up ready to shield Out of the shrouds arms open, welcoming what it may yield In between my fingers, through the gaps I squinted I find myself in awe with my feet firmly planted. A beautiful vision that is worthy of an artist's canvas Bewitching blue eyes, face framed by streams of golden tresses Releasing a gasp, I could hardly believe what I'm seeing It was a moment where beauty had lost it's original meaning. This moment I wish to have the word hastily redefined For our eyes have connected with rare magics that bind She smiled with the promise of freedom that I yearn She embraced with love that caused my fire to brightly burn. "Burn forever", I said to my heart's raging fire "For she has love in abundance that'll never ever tire" She spoke, "I have come as the answer to your mournful cries" "I have come to be steadfast and wipe the tears from your eyes". 'Twas a moment that I felt grateful, she had found me 'Twas a moment that I felt, I will never be lonely 'Twas a moment that I felt as if time had stood still 'Twas a moment that I've been granted the freedom of will. Such liberation I felt was worth waiting all these years Such anxious relief I felt, that had washed away all my fears I can finally breathe and through new eyes I clearly see That you came into my universe, you rescued, accepted and set me free.

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Jul 23, 2014

Jul 23, 2014 at 9:20 PM UTC

My life isn't much, save for bleakness that had lasted long It was dark time that made every right seem wrong Finally a day came when everything was altered It was the height of period when I would surely have faltered. Like rays breaking through the thickest of clouds Like blades ripping through the heaviest shrouds The rays they illuminate and allowed me to see The blades they cut and slash, to reveal so desperately. With the light shining bright, hand up ready to shield Out of the shrouds arms open, welcoming what it may yield In between my fingers, through the gaps I squinted I find myself in awe with my feet firmly planted. A beautiful vision that is worthy of an artist's canvas Bewitching blue eyes, face framed by streams of golden tresses Releasing a gasp, I could hardly believe what I'm seeing It was a moment where beauty had lost it's original meaning. This moment I wish to have the word hastily redefined For our eyes have connected with rare magics that bind She smiled with the promise of freedom that I yearn She embraced with love that caused my fire to brightly burn. "Burn forever", I said to my heart's raging fire "For she has love in abundance that'll never ever tire" She spoke, "I have come as the answer to your mournful cries" "I have come to be steadfast and wipe the tears from your eyes". 'Twas a moment that I felt grateful, she had found me 'Twas a moment that I felt, I will never be lonely 'Twas a moment that I felt as if time had stood still 'Twas a moment that I've been granted the freedom of will. Such liberation I felt was worth waiting all these years Such anxious relief I felt, that had washed away all my fears I can finally breathe and through new eyes I clearly see That you came into my universe, you rescued, accepted and set me free.

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I don't think you realize the effect you're having on me. I'm catching myself doing things differently in the hopes that you'll notice me. I'm diving head first into rose bushes to pick you a flower. I'm turning back all the clocks in my house so you'll stay for just one more hour. I'm listening to every love song in reverse in search of a missing verse. The mere utterance of your name has become my curse. Reminding me, that at this moment, I am not next to you. You. I would define you as angelic, but the gods above bow before you in reverence. Any semblance of beauty in the world must be reassessed. The meaning of the word must be redefined. I'll happily go blind if it means keeping the image of you burning in my mind. Thoughts swirling in my head ignite the passion that now burns like wildfire. Scorching every fact, theory and opinion I've ever had until all that is left is you. You.

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Aug 30, 2013

Aug 30, 2013 at 2:22 PM UTC

I don't think you realize the effect you're having on me. I'm catching myself doing things differently in the hopes that you'll notice me. I'm diving head first into rose bushes to pick you a flower. I'm turning back all the clocks in my house so you'll stay for just one more hour. I'm listening to every love song in reverse in search of a missing verse. The mere utterance of your name has become my curse. Reminding me, that at this moment, I am not next to you. You. I would define you as angelic, but the gods above bow before you in reverence. Any semblance of beauty in the world must be reassessed. The meaning of the word must be redefined. I'll happily go blind if it means keeping the image of you burning in my mind. Thoughts swirling in my head ignite the passion that now burns like wildfire. Scorching every fact, theory and opinion I've ever had until all that is left is you. You.

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Thinking about the past Had a blast Times have changed Goodtimes turn bad Tried to date lots of hate Single life still getting heat Couples hate gave up on the single life Do it along while those dysfunctional parts Fall apart with time Open relationships lead to someone closing down Exclusive is just a title over time it's redefined Seek love stop wasting time With a face no real emotions Looks fade with time dried up limes

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Mar 5, 2013

Mar 5, 2013 at 12:31 AM UTC

Thinking about the past Had a blast Times have changed Goodtimes turn bad Tried to date lots of hate Single life still getting heat Couples hate gave up on the single life Do it along while those dysfunctional parts Fall apart with time Open relationships lead to someone closing down Exclusive is just a title over time it's redefined Seek love stop wasting time With a face no real emotions Looks fade with time dried up limes

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Lyrical— like poetry in motion. Rhythmic— like the motion of the ocean. Fluid like a breeze passin with great ease, Movin through the branches Dancin through the leaves. Flowin like my mind, Going over time, puffin on some trees, Like truth I’m bout to find. Stayin on my grind. Leavin fear behind. Blastin through the cosmos like my stars are all aligned. Quantum physics redefined, The beauty of being kind. Travel thru dimensions, A universal mastermind. This illusory time alluding to retain us- Yet the conscious mind refuses to contain us. Recondition of the masses, Before time comes to pass us. before it’s all too late Start movement to change Let’s wake each other up Let’s take control over our fate. Again and again, Love it till it’s over, live it till it’s fin. A reflection of your life spent, a vessel that you’ve been lent, so go forth with intent. Gratitude for all worth Know you are important Every breath, and all birth. Your light that resides true In the poetry inside you. The vibration stays fluid, Like the love that is intuit. You’re a medium— a conduit. Yeah, now you’re catchin onto it. High frequency—- Waves of love True vibrancy, Bonds—- you are free of. Faith in self, No need for vaunt, lovin what you have not havin what you want. Give it all you got till you got nothin left, Then take the deepest breath And give it once again.

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Mar 19, 2019

Mar 19, 2019 at 5:09 PM UTC

michelle-e-alba

Poetry in Motion

Lyrical— like poetry in motion. Rhythmic— like the motion of the ocean. Fluid like a breeze passin with great ease, Movin through the branches Dancin through the leaves. Flowin like my mind, Going over time, puffin on some trees, Like truth I’m bout to find. Stayin on my grind. Leavin fear behind. Blastin through the cosmos like my stars are all aligned. Quantum physics redefined, The beauty of being kind. Travel thru dimensions, A universal mastermind. This illusory time alluding to retain us- Yet the conscious mind refuses to contain us. Recondition of the masses, Before time comes to pass us. before it’s all too late Start movement to change Let’s wake each other up Let’s take control over our fate. Again and again, Love it till it’s over, live it till it’s fin. A reflection of your life spent, a vessel that you’ve been lent, so go forth with intent. Gratitude for all worth Know you are important Every breath, and all birth. Your light that resides true In the poetry inside you. The vibration stays fluid, Like the love that is intuit. You’re a medium— a conduit. Yeah, now you’re catchin onto it. High frequency—- Waves of love True vibrancy, Bonds—- you are free of. Faith in self, No need for vaunt, lovin what you have not havin what you want. Give it all you got till you got nothin left, Then take the deepest breath And give it once again.

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Acrostic poem Necessity of society Intensity of people agitation Redefined the common man’s power Boiling over attacks on women Hot-tempered youth Ashamed to say Yardstick of behavior Assault on women go unreported -Naveen

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Dec 15, 2014

Dec 15, 2014 at 1:36 AM UTC

Acrostic poem Necessity of society Intensity of people agitation Redefined the common man’s power Boiling over attacks on women Hot-tempered youth Ashamed to say Yardstick of behavior Assault on women go unreported -Naveen

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I believe your love may be fatal, though if it is, I'll take as many lethal injections as possible, through every kiss with a passionate twist. I could fall from just your words, or I could wither from that look in your eyes. The word beautiful is redefined, deadly seduction, I am so willingly confined. There could be no better way to the end, Than the grasp your hand has on my heart, It wont be long before the venom reaches me, and love will take my breaths. Alas, I will breath only this fatality.

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Mar 3, 2011

Mar 3, 2011 at 1:32 PM UTC

tiffany-bourlet

Deadly Seduction

I believe your love may be fatal, though if it is, I'll take as many lethal injections as possible, through every kiss with a passionate twist. I could fall from just your words, or I could wither from that look in your eyes. The word beautiful is redefined, deadly seduction, I am so willingly confined. There could be no better way to the end, Than the grasp your hand has on my heart, It wont be long before the venom reaches me, and love will take my breaths. Alas, I will breath only this fatality.

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Juxtapositional Refinement Redefined (Spoken Word- Freestyle-Dramatics) ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ == JRR == by SassyJ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Credits to: Angelina Lopez (HP Poetess) (Copy the link below to your browser) Juxtapositional refinement redefined: When you meet beautiful souls we have been taught by the society to confine them. Like "I love you" but what does that word really mean. Does it mean "sharing in openness" or does it mean " been confined in expectations and obligations". The paradigm that we live in as society is delusional. We have learnt to analyse the "in between" based on our analytical and logical systems. But how about going to the individuals involved and creating an open dialogue to talk about what the situation may be. This is a thorough and more accurate way of attaining acuity. To flow in openness is like listening to 'harmonious jazz music' ...... it is like inhaling the beauty of the ginger scent in the breeze. Life itself speaks to us and we don't have to make it complicated. If we only were able to have an open platform..... hearts that are blissful and not tainted by fear then we can redefine the contrasting views of dichotomy that we have as mankind. In essence, If you haven't communicated to someone openly about something ...... we should never draw out conclusions. They will only be pre-judgemental notions oozing with constraining predefined and predetermined assumptions. Give everyone a chance and the world will smile!

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Feb 25, 2016

Feb 25, 2016 at 11:09 AM UTC

Juxtapositional Refinement Redefined (Spoken Word-Freestyle-Dramatics)

Juxtapositional Refinement Redefined (Spoken Word- Freestyle-Dramatics) ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ == JRR == by SassyJ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Credits to: Angelina Lopez (HP Poetess) (Copy the link below to your browser) Juxtapositional refinement redefined: When you meet beautiful souls we have been taught by the society to confine them. Like "I love you" but what does that word really mean. Does it mean "sharing in openness" or does it mean " been confined in expectations and obligations". The paradigm that we live in as society is delusional. We have learnt to analyse the "in between" based on our analytical and logical systems. But how about going to the individuals involved and creating an open dialogue to talk about what the situation may be. This is a thorough and more accurate way of attaining acuity. To flow in openness is like listening to 'harmonious jazz music' ...... it is like inhaling the beauty of the ginger scent in the breeze. Life itself speaks to us and we don't have to make it complicated. If we only were able to have an open platform..... hearts that are blissful and not tainted by fear then we can redefine the contrasting views of dichotomy that we have as mankind. In essence, If you haven't communicated to someone openly about something ...... we should never draw out conclusions. They will only be pre-judgemental notions oozing with constraining predefined and predetermined assumptions. Give everyone a chance and the world will smile!

Continue reading...

we all remember where we were watching the towers burn and fall knowing that things would never be the same at all disbelief at first, or had an action movie slipped into the news no, it was real and then twenty years of vengeful repercussion of military posturing of suffering for many we watched the baddies being painted good and evil being redefined virtue confused impotence and power conflated lies and spin consecrated truth alternated idiot rich guys promoted tax for the poor promulgated democracy desecrated climate destruction accelerated by denialist complacency inequality more concentrated goodness and morality infiltrated by posturing political pus weasels venal vultures of self interest grasping for short term dominance and then .. complacency pervaded as absurdity was accepted as our new state of normal and the height of compassion was owning a dog and tut tutting as refugees marched across our news screens and now we bemoan being isolated from being contaminated we are mostly relegated to stay in our mansions while dinner is contemplated have you been vaccinated?

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Sep 11, 2021

Sep 11, 2021 at 4:32 AM UTC

when the world changed ...

we all remember where we were watching the towers burn and fall knowing that things would never be the same at all disbelief at first, or had an action movie slipped into the news no, it was real and then twenty years of vengeful repercussion of military posturing of suffering for many we watched the baddies being painted good and evil being redefined virtue confused impotence and power conflated lies and spin consecrated truth alternated idiot rich guys promoted tax for the poor promulgated democracy desecrated climate destruction accelerated by denialist complacency inequality more concentrated goodness and morality infiltrated by posturing political pus weasels venal vultures of self interest grasping for short term dominance and then .. complacency pervaded as absurdity was accepted as our new state of normal and the height of compassion was owning a dog and tut tutting as refugees marched across our news screens and now we bemoan being isolated from being contaminated we are mostly relegated to stay in our mansions while dinner is contemplated have you been vaccinated?

Continue reading...

sometimes I feel kind of low alone.. something in my mind I need to take back control they can't comprehend or even come close to understanding me maybe if i was boring they would love me maybe if i was simple in the mind everything would be fine everything redefined in the heart and soul of a mastermind body shaped like a muse for fine art don't fall apart sometimes I feel kind of low alone.. in this battle for the freedom of my soul maybe I shouldve let go long ago maybe I shouldve give in swallowed the bottle cutt a little deeper felt the rush of pain for those who don't understand for those who don't relate and for those who think I'm crazy there's a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line.

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Nov 11, 2013

Nov 11, 2013 at 1:24 AM UTC

sometimes I feel kind of low alone.. something in my mind I need to take back control they can't comprehend or even come close to understanding me maybe if i was boring they would love me maybe if i was simple in the mind everything would be fine everything redefined in the heart and soul of a mastermind body shaped like a muse for fine art don't fall apart sometimes I feel kind of low alone.. in this battle for the freedom of my soul maybe I shouldve let go long ago maybe I shouldve give in swallowed the bottle cutt a little deeper felt the rush of pain for those who don't understand for those who don't relate and for those who think I'm crazy there's a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line.

Continue reading...

There once was a man called Einstein Who'd think all the time of sunshine Some thought it a waste Though he proved his case And redefined time as divine

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Apr 9, 2016

Apr 9, 2016 at 7:28 AM UTC

There once was a man called Einstein Who'd think all the time of sunshine Some thought it a waste Though he proved his case And redefined time as divine

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I didn't want to end it Because I didn't want to have weak love I thought that's what love meant then Putting in ninety when you gave ten Till my sister said, "Girl, not for months on end, Babe you gotta cut the thread. You can still love him but you can't invest." And man I needed that

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Feb 10, 2022

Feb 10, 2022 at 8:20 PM UTC

I didn't want to end it Because I didn't want to have weak love I thought that's what love meant then Putting in ninety when you gave ten Till my sister said, "Girl, not for months on end, Babe you gotta cut the thread. You can still love him but you can't invest." And man I needed that

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you, my dear, have made me feel things i've only known of in dreams. for happiness, never existed in my reality. i think of you, and i can't help but believe in god's existence because who else could come up with someone as majestic as you are? you redefined words for me. you redefined life for me. and most importantly, you redefined love for me. my heart no longer aches of pain, no. my heart aches from missing you, missing someone i've not had the privelege of calling mine, yet.

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Jan 14, 2015

Jan 14, 2015 at 10:24 AM UTC

excerpt from a book you'll never read.

you, my dear, have made me feel things i've only known of in dreams. for happiness, never existed in my reality. i think of you, and i can't help but believe in god's existence because who else could come up with someone as majestic as you are? you redefined words for me. you redefined life for me. and most importantly, you redefined love for me. my heart no longer aches of pain, no. my heart aches from missing you, missing someone i've not had the privelege of calling mine, yet.

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Back home I shower And my eyes Don't blink as they're lined Along with my mouth And usually I don't do that But some lines on my face need to be redefined Like the ocean eroded them Just washed them away And I'm dressed in blue and green And in my ears are pearls-- Because I'm not afraid of the sea, It was my fault it almost killed me And the person I hold dearest.

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Jun 29, 2013

Jun 29, 2013 at 10:59 AM UTC

Near- Death Experience

Back home I shower And my eyes Don't blink as they're lined Along with my mouth And usually I don't do that But some lines on my face need to be redefined Like the ocean eroded them Just washed them away And I'm dressed in blue and green And in my ears are pearls-- Because I'm not afraid of the sea, It was my fault it almost killed me And the person I hold dearest.

Continue reading...