"refreshingly" poems
you are may
i am december
kisses exchanged
during the bluing hour
child like
staring at you
in wonder and amazement
frosting night
falling snow
flakes in your auburn hair
i walk you home
in the cold frigid air
holding your hand
dreaming of you
you are rare
a beacon
a lighthouse
in a storm
in my daydreams
you are the pixie, the fairy inspiring me
at night
you are the siren, i surrender to
a trifecta of youth, beauty, personality
you are refreshingly young
spring in my wintered life
preternaturally beautiful
perfection come to life
your femininity bewitching
your youth intoxicating
your mannerism seducing
i would do anything for you
oozing sensuality
innocences
of a woman on the cusp
you hunger for sophistication
to be worldly-wise
seeking passage guidance
from an experienced traveller
the trade, the deal, is timeless
refined by evolution
i am humbled
to have been chosen
the ultimate champion
of your ****** selection
in turn, you are my trophy
the spoils
of a never ending war
i know our time is short
the span of a bloom
a season at most
i know the outcome
seen the devastation
the problem is
we think we have time
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 9:20 PM UTC
emerald, olive, viridian
oh how you perplex me
forest, jade, chartreuse
why do you tease me so
cyan, verdigris, moss
such excitement arises
to be a word
to be a meaning
is there such a thing,
to have a feeling
to see a vision,
phthalo, pine, teal
are you the same
mint, myrtle, laurel
you make me envious
to be blooming, to be healthy
to be young, to be clumsy
are you callow, how about credulous?
but such a conservationist
unquestioning, so trustful,
tenderfoot and common
the tree, the lawn, the willow
though ecological and crude
a sage in all but name
apple, spinach, pea
aren't you scrumptious,
lime, kelly, bice
are you nature, how about luck
you're pungently rotten
though with such dark beauty and hope,
love and lust ensues
you're the jolliness of balance
and the creative intelligence;
of evil, and decay of money and safety,
will you resurrect me, are you immortality?
such jealousy arises
high goals and honor
so so allusive
healing and vitality
you're calming though fast
lush spring stability,
abundant generosity,
vert vegetation; witchcraft
an aphrodisiac I hear,
are you youth or fading youth?
sunrise and life, growth and fertility
sacred ideology,
eroticized though shameful
so romantic and humble
I see the third ray
or is the the fifth ray, the third eye
are you truth, are you vision
it's becoming a science,
so much compassion
the fourth chakra, the heart,
the centre of us all
a higher consciousness
such a harmonious aura
a hunter, a nurse, a solider, an outdoorsman
villains and superstition
misfortune and prosperity
with toxicity, sickness and death,
recycle and reuse
oh so powerful
you exude auspiciousness
just a holiday
mystical fairies and spirits
though also devilish,
cancer in the stars
a renewal of paradise,
biliously tranquil
are you refreshingly soothing,
peacefully restful,
a naive novice,
very understanding,
is there truly a term for you?
what do you really convey,
countless representations
a definition of name,
or do you signify the feeling, the specimen
the aspect?
though some have no locution for you
here I am,
stepping around the issue
you are you, in any word
yet with a different meaning
Jul 15, 2012
Jul 15, 2012 at 10:01 PM UTC
The scenery is dull
And you're feeling death's pull
And the sky is an ominous boat of gravy
But the scenery's bright
In the middle of the night
When the sky is swirled in navy.
The scenery's lonely
And you are the only
Life in the march of a swarm
The scenery is dull
And you're feeling death's pull
But it feels refreshingly warm.
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 12:20 PM UTC
A caveman discovering fire,
he can now stay warm in the cold and see light in the dark,
It feeds him and protects him, and he does likewise.
Electricity suddenly figured out,
the harnessing of lightening used to capture the suns impressive illumination,
Dark corners seen where shadows once resided.
Neil Armstrong's foot touching the surface of the moon,
as stars swirl around him,
and the Earth looks innocent, safe, and beautiful.
The first successful flight of an airplane,
finally feeling free like the birds,
and touching the once elusive clouds.
A heart surgeon looking at a sensitive beating *****
knowing that rhythmic pulsing is necessary to sustain the body,
and caution must be taken not to hurt it.
Like a free-falling with a parachute.
Like a delicious appetizer, entree, and dessert all at once.
Like puppy kisses, or kitten purrs.
Like looking down from the top of a mountain.
Like every single sunrise and sunset you've ever seen, combined.
Like tearing up when you see people reunite.
Like meeting up with an old friend.
Like laughing until your stomach hurts.
Like that refreshingly calm breath after crying real hard.
Like holding a *** for too long but then finding a bathroom.
Like your first cup of coffee in the morning.
Like snow, a fireplace, hot cocoa, and a blanket.
Like a flower blooming.
Like the sound of the ocean.
Like a cool breeze on a sweltering day.
Like a good, long embrace.
Like a shot of hard liquor that warms your insides.
Like getting promoted.
Like finishing a creative endeavor.
Like your favorite sports team winning.
Like a baby smiling at you.
Like finding a good book or a good series.
Like fixing something properly all by yourself.
Like finding blue or purple sea glass.
Like mail with your name on it that isn't bills.
It's probably not like any of these things,
*it's probably a whole lot ******* better.*
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 3:37 PM UTC
As I sat in the library waiting for my lecture to start,
A beautiful girl came along and stood near to my heart
As she sent me peace with a smile full of delight,
Revealed such a beauty of hidden appealing light
Her eyes somehow met mine in a sudden peep
Took me somewhere over the rainbow leap
her eyes were iridescent with every shades of hope,
kindling sparks of spiritual faith and defeated mope
As I was wondering among her beautiful face ,
I heard her voice ,tingling my heart to race
She asked how to improve her langage to fulfill a dream,
To call for Islam and invite people to know this perfect Deen
She loves Allah more than you could ardently imagine ,
Her eyes glowing with the radiant of this noble message
I was fascinated by her alluring faith and love ,
by her appealing beauty and optimism shining above
Her heart was a precious peace of sincerity and faith
Studded with the most redolent shimmering gems
A full blossming hour spent without a doubt ,
Bringing faint hint of smiling sunshine ,
Pure love of Allah mingled our spirits ,
refreshingly flourished my heart and lissomed my soul
Islam is our biggest bounty so let's be grateful,
Let's relax our hearts and spread this bliss all over ...
The tips I gave she kept with an excited determination ,
To realise her dream and be among the callers
For this native religion and truthful decision,
With a glorious gratitude we ended our meeting ,
Promised our souls to get to strengthen our faith,
To noble our path and find our truthful basement
Speechless expressions are all we were able to keep,
In front of Allah's super mercy and grateful deeds
she was a pretty faithful soul that entered my heart,
Took me higher , and sowed love in every single part ...
Thank you Allah for all your bounties and fascination
Blissful we are to belong to your super fetching creation ...
♡Merry
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 2:42 PM UTC
To E.
I guess it's not nice to hold a knife
To someone's throat and say
Take that back, boy,
But you did and it's done, and
Insulting my mother the way he did,
I agree that he needed to learn.
He'll never know
It was your sister's
Nail file from when she borrowed
Your coat
That he felt. He shook for hours.
You were refreshingly crazy. Crazy
And equally sly
About hiding the needle marks
From your parents.
Skin and bone, pale as snow from
Riding that old white horse
Since thirteen.
A ghost long before you went.
They found you by their kitchen
Table, box of pills and a note
By your still hands.
Tidy and organized
For once.
You are still my friend,
Wherever you are.
Your memory as intact
As my mother's honour
Remains
To this
Day.
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 7:06 AM UTC
Listening rain plashes
upon crystal spring waters
It hears the trailing distance
disguised in the silent gravity
chasing it down the sky;
refreshingly sprinkling
stillness
where spotless fawns
drink from mirror pond
green and peacefulness
A man falls from
a distance he knows by heart;
dropping like a wind broke tree ...
Breaking all the silence hidden
within the deepest places
of his soul
Hitting the ground hard
to see if he still feels —
laying there broken
feeling the raindrops
soothe the hurt
Certain when he’s able
to get back up,
hearing a distant calling
to the fountains of his soul —
he may fall down again
bearing the weight
of broken dreams
But he’s seen it all
for long enough to know:
he’s no candle in the wind
Awakening in an unfinished life,
coming back from the dead,
still feeling each
feral breath enough —
to keep on trying
to chase down the wind ...
harlon rivers .
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 9:23 AM UTC
You're properly pro
and exclusively first
I'm sloppy and slow
and obtrusively worse
you're steadily shrewd
and notably neat
I'm sweaty and stewed
and bloated and beat
you're refreshingly free
and benignedly blessed
I'm distressingly me
and resignedly messed
you're gold-plated and awed
and hairless and pink
I'm outdated and flawed
and careless and stink
you're so reveled revered
you're the death of my will
I'm disheveled and weird
but with my last breath I'll still
love you
©2012 Lyn
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 7:25 PM UTC
Some things are sadly poetic
Like the cougar whose boyfriend
Won’t come back outside and she’s alone
At the only table in the cold
smoking a pall mall,
Having a beer.
Some things are refreshingly poetic
like leaving the office for a bit with the boss
and going somewhere
where there are domes made of pure gold
and priests who pour milk on them from
helicopters.
Some things are interestingly poetic;
like the poet, turned novelist, turned artist,
who does landscaping to cover the spread.
Some things are courageously and nostalgically
And hurtfully poetic,
Like not seeing your family for nine years
Because the money’s good where you're at,
And plane tickets and passports are outrageous.
Some things should not be
poetic, but they are, because they are truthful
And that is verse;
like the waitress who was *****
when she cashed her check at a grocery store
after the night shift
and she wasn’t the only one in her car
when she got back.
Some things are poetry because they come
Into this world quietly
And bleeding internally,
and yet they survive
Even though their lungs are full of fluid,
And they can barely breathe.
Some things are poetry because they happened
And nothing can change that.
And because
Poetry is
unchangeable, immovable, and
grotesque, beautiful, uncomfortable, calming,
disfiguring, life-giving, ****** up,
Possibly ****** possibly a nectar
That God
or whoever the ****
allowed to be put on paper,
Possibly a way to talk about pain,
Possibly roided up with someone else’s words,
Possibly a way to talk about
the pure dream of a girl’s body
Without being a ***** *****
Poetry is love in the worst
and most unimaginable ways.
Mar 13, 2012
Mar 13, 2012 at 8:39 PM UTC
She is gorgeously slim & her skin feels softer,
I visualize & often I dream of being with her,
Cuddling curls of her otherwise straight hair.
So refreshingly sweeter her voice feels softer,
All things begin & end around a smile of hers,
Under her calm eyes in the shade of her hair.
Whether the fruit of my Karma or otherwise,
I find it hard to ignore this gift of time to me,
The calmest sea after that tsunami in my life.
So sweetly attractive is her thought in mind,
All the time she stays staunchly on my mind,
Under the blues of mind making them violet.
She hacked all my sins & put pins to them all,
I wonder how she got baby colors in my life,
Cuddling the long grown-up baby inside me.
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 10:11 PM UTC
Dark heavens
slapped my state
of blues today.
the sky was grey
and green, and
seething in between.
it spat cold rocks
on me and made
me see alacrity,
defeat my sheets
of drenched
passivity,
refreshingly.
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 8:27 AM UTC
From the first day we met
All awkward and weird
I felt a sense of.. Something
Growing within
You were in all my classes
My partner for everything
The pull became stronger;
We were closer than anything
Crazy,weird,fun,
But true
The friendship we have
Is something refreshingly new
Now two years have gone by
And they've given me a glimpse
To the truth of true friends
I love you (platonically:P) to bits
Today's graduation ceremony
Is not a goodbye
But the end of one chapter
From the many to come by.
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 2:45 AM UTC
Your gravest danger
giving up
ceasing to believe
I can still do
wondrous things
in your world.
Keep moving forward
depending on Me
trusting
expecting a path
to open before you.
Refreshingly new
Behold
I will do a new thing
I am making a way
a way in the desert
and streams
in the wasteland.
Cj 2016
Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 9:35 PM UTC
The air here is refreshingly sweet
a real tonic
pollution is far away across the sea
two ferry journeys
going onward the nearest city many more road miles away.
We are lucky, in this regard,
Oh! but what I would do sometimes for a takeaway curry.
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 10:53 AM UTC
He didn’t know what time it was,
Except that it was early,
And he wouldn’t need to be up for hours.
So he turned his head toward the
Only window in the room,
Which was so white that it appeared
To be encasing ten feet of snow.
It was April, though,
He remembered through the neon glow,
And the room was 17 floors up.
The old hotel was silent,
Bathed in this new sunrise, so
Cold and refreshingly bright;
This new day- this white, ****** light.
And then there was the girl-
Sleeping beside him like a kitten
In a sea of pale linens and downs,
An arm over her forehead,
Like a dozing damsel in distress.
She’s fragile, he thought,
Fragile and rare as a glass unicorn,
The heart-wrenching, Tennessee Williams type-
No broken horn, but something
Indistinguishable setting her apart;
Like the pure sunlight, here lies
A beauty so blinding, yet hidden from plain sight.
He didn’t know what time it was,
Except that it was early,
And he wouldn’t need to be up for hours.
Her arm twitched.
The room was boomingly silent.
The infant light made a golden bar across the bed.
The air was crisp.
His breath was warm.
He felt chilled.
His skin felt raw.
His eyes felt raw.
His heart felt raw.
Her skin looked soft.
He wondered if her heart was soft.
He swallowed quietly.
He felt his head pound against the quiet.
Her arm twitched again.
A long-forgotten childhood scar shimmered,
And he decided that this particular mark
Is innocent, but…
He would move a mountain and
Protect her always; keep an eye on her,
In all her wild wonder,
Rather that give her another.
And then there’s the slight voice:
"Beautiful as if made of marble,
Untouchable as if made of glass,
If you’ve ever wondered how an angel sleeps,
Now you know at last."
And while he slipped back under the covers,
He slipped helplessly into a love from which he'd never quite recover.
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 3:01 AM UTC
She was like a force of nature
Manipulative, dangerous and beautiful.
Without even looking at you
she could make you feel insignificant
She made you feel pathetic
But when she looked at you it was worse,
those cold, bitter eyes fixed on yours
and she saw so deeply into your mind
that your security leeched
out of your fingertips
like spilt milk.
Those soft, harsh lips would twitch,
and her eyes would mock you.
She oozed feline contemptuousness.
But you were hooked,
from the word go, you needed her.
She was your ******
And without even knowing it you were hers.
There was something delicious about her
something refreshingly suffocating,
like a rib tightening power-cut shower.
She lovingly despised you,
couldn’t bear the beautiful sight of you,
and pinched the backs of your arms with violent affection.
When the text came through my world jolted,
something shifted as the realisation
of a different existence slotted into place.
In only a few digitally transported words
of no deliberation,
the person I required most had stopped my heart.
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 11:51 PM UTC
Haiku
Secrets fill the air
Whispered through the swaying trees
Though they make no sound
Nature Poem
The wind is an unpredictable beast
Clawing, tearing, ripping
And yet, gentle as a baby's breath
Strong, frigid, freezes to the bone
Hot, humid, sweltering, offering no relief
And yet, can be pleasantly warm or refreshingly cool
What it might bring, no one can know
The wind is an unpredictable beast
Metaphor Poem
Euphoria is a green too bright to be real
Filled with intensity that's possible to feel
It is a heated blanket that has too much power
Though it's unplugged, it lasts for an hour!
Euphoria is a color that projects too much light
It is a blanket that does its job too right!
Letter Poem
Dear Bel,
At first sight, many people consider you a monster.
And for what cause? Because you're different?
If that were to always hold true, wouldn't everyone be afraid of each other? It's not to say you're perfectly harmless, that's true.
But that's why we all admire you.
Myself, Legolas, Tauriel, Fili and Kili, even Thorin.
Because you are different, special, and quite able to hold your own even against an army of orcs. Not many people can make that claim.
How is Mirkwood? Rivendell is the same as always,
Though for some odd reason, my father's been in a really good mood.
It's really quite frightening.
I love you and miss you quite terribly.
Please send my best to Legolas, Tauriel and King Thranduil.
Ever so sincerely,
Sari
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 1:09 PM UTC
Sitting in the dark
I find it
Refreshingly quiet, yet
I know I'm addicted to clouding my mind and I know
I'll soon flood the empty blackness with
Artificial light and cacophony because
One moment too long in this tranquil blankness
And I know
Tonight's thoughts alone will
For weeks postpone
Any ideas I may have had of repose.
I berate myself with distraction to
Save myself facing the
Piles of of withdrawn responsibility that
Shadow the tiers of my
Sparking brain -
My itching imagination runs its knees into the
Unkempt piles, looking for a door to the outside -
I'm often
Sorry that I leave so much for tomorrow -
When I finally wake it is often to
Soft shadows cast across my room
From things I left about
By an early blue light
That reveals what I've avoided with a sly smile
And writes the day for me.
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 2:01 PM UTC
Green grass along a cerulean sky
Sought I
To write:
The perfect prose.
Thoroughly I searched,
Yet my pad remained plain and pure
And quite unquenched.
I strolled stolidly and walked wearily
To the water’s unexpected whims.
Amusing as it were, well…
With its lacking of lapping—
just somewhat lazy:
For the wind blew blessedly refreshingly,
Yet the waves seemed scared to surface—
Somewhat suspiciously.
Then my ears caught quite a commotion
Coming from behind me:
Chuckling and chasing squirrels
Pounced past perched pigeons
As if to bother the birds
Because of blatant boredom.
Deafeningly distracted became I
When all of a sudden
A fickle photographer focused her
Large lens
Dangerously, daringly in my direction.
Vainly I ventured to assume,
Yet I assuaged,
And I moved
Maturely… (as anyone should).
Pointed and positioned to the person of peace
placed in the park,
She snapped, and she snipped a picture or two
Inevitably to post on a wasted wall space.
As the sun set,
To be clearly cliché,
I wrapped up my writings
On my once plain and pure pad.
Had it had eyes,
It would have gawked and glanced
For my gaze in return:
“You call that a creation? Corny it is,
Not at all concise.”
Carelessly content, I closed the cover
Leaving my pad
Quite unquenched.
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 6:57 PM UTC
two suede secrets
*a blue violin plays instrumental come-ons with flamenco hints,
various pleasures merge, a three lane highway becomes a
county road with slow and steady the unposted speed limit
I am well and full accompanied and accomplished*
and I am alone
*my hands laurel my temples, my head is crowning,
laughing from the pleasure given to me to give to me,
snare drum solitary keeps my time, my two palms say psalms,
guttural and cultural, my emissions, emptying my commissions,*
and I am alone
*a-poem came with this morn to mind, and pleasure me, it did;
music and flesh, words and tissue untested but harmonizing,
hands prancing on strings of sterling silvered guitar body mine,
shouting glory glory, am risen am fallen, salved, soothed,*
I am alone, refreshingly happy, my poem **********
*and and and
both of us will die in due course, dead unread, alone together*
3/17/18 9:05 AM
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 9:46 AM UTC
Honesty frankly a refreshingly bright comical view on the non laughable matter!!!
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 9:44 AM UTC
How unusual,
that kind of eye contact
we say we crave
leaves me cringing.
Unfamiliar eyes
stare knowingly
through my incarnate dress
past the illusion of the way I want to be -
the person I want I really want to become -
and into the entity which I am.
{Gasp} -
discovered.
How unusual
Exposure
feels like something from my dreams
an alarmingly weird yet refreshingly natural
sense of deja vu
that leaves me speechless,
humbled before both you and myself...
I want to converse with you,
to share with you my illusions and incarnate clothes
but it seems has already been said.
How unusual,
I have nothing to say.
How unusual
that I prefer the silence.
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 7:04 PM UTC
He may not be near me
but I see him everyday:
stars in the night sky
grandpa's fidgety hands
quiet sun rays
It's been days since we spoke
but I hear him everyday:
rustling wind of crunchy leaves
our song on the radio
patters of excited child's feet
His hug has become a memory
but I feel him everyday:
refreshingly dark rainstorms
his smell, a scent worn by too few others
weak tea that kisses me awake in the morning-
we both know
it should be him
May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 11:39 PM UTC