"refurbish" poems
It plummets and wave takes way,
But carries imprint of love and life,
Develop its niche through air, water and soil....
Refurbish to energy
Energies and connect web
Continue the cycle!
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 3:09 PM UTC
It's out with the old
And in with the new.
Spring cleaning
Rids my closet of
Bony skeletons
And chests of horrors.
All those times,
All those memories
That were swept
Under the rug,
Shake them out,
Beat the dust,
The feelings until
Last October's filth
Becomes clean again.
Repaint this room.
Refurbish that sofa.
Redo the tile.
Run your hand
Down the banister.
Feel the cinder's from
Last fall's fire,
The remnants, the remains.
Make my building
Like new again,
Untouched, as if
For the first time,
For the first buyer.
May 11, 2011
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 1:36 AM UTC
Precious complications
The will to be impressed
Has gone away
To far forward
Mindless feeble altercations
The fear of what is left
Is hear to stay
Please refrain from harmony
If you can't see
What is infront of you
I'll be forced to tell a lie
Don't make me take it to the grave
My left hand sank through a bible
Waiting for the world to burn
Beyond the day
I was waiting for freedom
True freedom travels in a mask
Disguised as tainted oxygen
Breath and believe the true
The abyss is calling you
I found
Life above
The cannons of bliss
Firing In the dark
We broke
Love below
Untimely cliches
So we could leave a mark
These eyes
Built the gun
Now who is the man
Trying to speak the truth
I found life above
The cannons of bliss
I will remember you
No need toy with stop and go
The will to be alone
Wakes up the day
Unquestionable treason
Crack a smile
and break the bones
The hands of birthright given thrones
Move in the shade
Please keep you distance
I will refrain from here
Where uncertainty is clear
It's a life I'm accustomed to
Moving through the motions
To save me
If you can change my mind
I ask you do it under wraps
In secret searching for freedom
Now and then
I'll attempt to defend the pain
Refurbish the past
Try to remember why
Now and then
I'll attempt to defend the pain
Prove that I'm insane
And make my way from there
If we can
Let's remember to **** the pain
Revisit the facts
And know that this is why
True freedom travels in a mask disguised as tainted oxygen
Breath and believe the truth
In not allowing cannon fire
To become white noise to you
I found
Life above
The cannons of bliss
Firing In the dark
We broke
Love below
Untimely cliches
So we could leave a mark
These eyes
Built the gun
Now who is the man
Trying to speak the truth
I found life above
The cannons of bliss
I will remember you
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 6:40 PM UTC
A compound
Of exact weight
You need to refurbish
A statue
Releasing the dreams
In senses
Inspired by the travels
Of blunders revolving
By mistakes to find fault
Just in case
Feeling of pleasure is null
As the world weighs hollow
To a ****** manifestation
Upon my very eyes
Apr 7, 2010
Apr 7, 2010 at 11:34 PM UTC
The American Vision of Abraham Lincoln
AT THIS MOMENT
At this moment
Resting in the comfort of the statue
Of the 16th president of the United States
Missing
An equally impressive representation
Of his friend and advisor
Frederick Douglass
We come
On this day
Recalling the difficult and divisive war
We are compelled
With a prayer in the name
Of those captured and enslaved
Who with heart and mind
Cleared the wilderness
Raised crops
Brought forth families
Submitted their souls
Before a merciful and great God
To acknowledge that The Civil War
Was fought not to free the enslaved
For they knew they were free
But to free the nation
From a terrible cancer eating at our hearts
At this moment
In which we are embarrassed
By the Governor of our fifth largest state
Who appoints a man to the United States Senate
To which both he and his minion agree:
The Letter of the Law
Is more important than
The Spirit of the Law
Now
When we are dismayed that the accidental
Governor of the Empire State can find
Just one more reason to rain pain
And rejection on a family that has offered only
Grace and graciousness
After two hundred years
When we rejoice that another son
Of the Midwest has offered himself
His wife and his two precious daughters
To show us a better way
We gather
In recognition and understanding
That today is always and forever today
Allowing us to offer this plea
For light
And truth
And Goodness
Forgiving as we are forgiven
Being neither tempted nor intolerant of those who are
We come
At this moment
To renew and refurbish
The American vision
Of Abraham Lincoln
©Nikki Giovanni 2009
12 February 2009
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 1:10 PM UTC
Darling:
I once
was small.
I fit into the thinnest cavities &
festered
Now
I sip on vitals till
My vials are full
baby you
make Me whole
I am in love
with life
so much
I cling
all nails & teeth
I'll sprawl my feet out
on your tables
I'll scribble my name
on your letters
Now
I am BIG
BEATING RED
I'll leave the light on
All night:
no sleep
while I'm busy
loving you
I'll even
Refurbish your skin with glass, but
Careful
You'll bruise easy
No need for windows
My dear:
I'll see for you!
No need for clocks
My love:
I'll count down for you!
& soon
your body
will love Me
too!
Sincerely,
C
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 1:35 PM UTC
Alleviate the cold in one
Refurbish blood in the vein
Mar 27, 2021
Mar 27, 2021 at 12:42 PM UTC
Scary, yet amazing
The mystery about this life
Deadly, yet we are living
Daily we are reborn into this life
What remain of yesterday are memories
Today is yet an opportunity to create tomorrow's memories
Whether we'll see tomorrow or not
The truth of the matter is that
Today, we are going to die
Tomorrow, we may be born again
If you doubt this
Ask your inner self
Why he feels that sensation
When he wakes up from the long night sleep
When he wince to stretch his hands and feet
When he savor his face with the morning breeze
When he look out at the far horizon
Even at the sight of the rising sun
At the first instance he knows nothing
Within the first fragment of seconds or minutes
The smile he wears on his face
or the Frank he bears on his face
His general countenance
Are all by-product of his dream
Then come yesterday's memories
Wallowing with worries
In a friendship way
Or in a hardship way
If we are not dead yesterday
We might still be able to go back
And correct all our mistakes
But what remain of yesterday are memories
Today is another opportunity
To refurbish our acts that were floppy
The scary thing is that we will die today
The amazing thing is yet, our memories will live on
This is how it's going to be till we are not going to be reborn
Tomorrow
When our memories will edge past us
And no We to worry on the memories
Except those people we left behind
This leaves us with one logic thing
Since today is the only assured day of being a being
While hope of being reborn tomorrow holds uncertainty
Let's work out today a wonderful memories
Even if we'll not be reborn tomorrow to worry
Tomorrow will be lived by our wonderful memories
And on the sand of time
We will write our wonderful name
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 4:33 AM UTC
Darling, you're confusing. Like a puzzle that can't be solved.
You remind me of a book that hasn't been read. The pages only skimmed, touched by rough fingers, sometimes tearing your fragile pages.
I want to immerse myself in your words. I want to tear them apart, dissect them so I can see what's underneath. I want to be a part of the story you have yet to finish.
Im drawn to you like the morning tide.
I would love to explore the depths of your existence, if only you were to let me. Even just for a quick moment.
I can feel your insecurities, the ones hidden in the depths of your pages. I know them all too well, like they are my own.
Won't you let me break down your walls, explore the world of your subconscious thoughts.
Let me in, please?
I showed you the heart I wear on my sleeve. I gave you the pen, invited you to help finish the novel that hasn't been published.
I want to show you what its like, show you that you aren't alone.
Let me be the one to help knock down the temple walls you cling to so dearly.
If you could only see what I do.
I want to become a part of your world. Immerse myself in the depths of your existence.
Are you ready?
I want to break you down, rip apart the images you have created. I want to see you totally exposed. I'll stand with you, I'll show you my skeleton. Let me be the one that helps paint the walls of your psyche.
Do the same for me.
Tear me down, rip me to shreds. Shine a light in the darkest corners of my being.
We will rebuild ourselves. Refurbish old images. Bit by bit, using scrapes from our ruble. We can create a world that is for us. Parts of us, mixed together, securing the infrastructure.
Let me be the only light to shine in your temple. Let me mend the pages that were torn by careless fingers.
I want to melt, my colors bleeding into yours. Illuminate our souls with the fire we sparked together.
Do you trust me?
Will you take my hand? Will you allow me to catch you incase you slip? I won't let you trip over the liter left behind by our pasts.
Leap with me, dive into the world we create. We can fall together.
What do you say?
I've given you the key to my pages, the pen to write your words down.
Will you do the same?
Hand me your key, I'll show you what its like. Remind you how it feels when my pen touches the pages of your soul.
Give me your love, your heart, your life.
I'll handle it with care.
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 11:44 AM UTC
This
This strange individual
Named
Named myself
Longs for
Longs for something
something this myself
hasn't first-handed
in what seems to be
The duration of an epic tale.
In those, however, the hero
always finds,
against all odds,
his ******
His soul
disguised as one separate
from his own.
Don't blame me
Please don't blame me
For such things as this are
Apparently
Out of the control
Of such a control maniac
As God
and myself.
God and I share a peace treaty.
The roses and violins –
They give me hope.
They are the substances
the only substances
with the power to refurbish my soul.
May 16, 2011
May 16, 2011 at 5:47 PM UTC
●●●
*life and liveliness
has turned into the darkness
sweetness of smiling faces
turned into bitterness
human races are
drenched into the bogginess
of greed agonies geliacy
and selfishness
oh almighty
supreme guardian of universe
shower few droplets
of ambrosia from heaven
transmit your
divine radiance of sky galaxies
on your own
creations
let it be passes
through our souls
that may lead to refurbish us
with your loving convergence*
●●●
©deovrat 07.09.2018
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 2:40 AM UTC
Step 1: It was a marriage of convenience.
When the bride kissed the Groom,
The black veil slipped:
Watch it, Groom's come undone.
Step 2: The house is a precious gift.
My husband smiles callously.
The hypocrisy! He undulates to the sky.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm really, really, sorry.
Step 3: The sidewalk opens up to devour everything.
Wonder if she'll miss me.
The sidewalk ***** the color from the night.
I don't care, I tell the dog.
Step 4: They refurbish the house,
To refurbish their souls.
Wild reds and luscious greens
Are replaced with a conservative blue.
Step 5: Shall I tell you a story?
It's about a suitcase and a lunatic,
And how everything turned into a conservative blue.
The sidewalk swallows everything.
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 9:36 AM UTC
Even now, the gardens of our past refurbish themselves in the heat of my ongoing halt against time. Perhaps for someone like me, idyll glimpses of love reside only in the solitude of lyricism, open windows, those comatose streetlights, and the interstate of dreams.
—
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 3:36 PM UTC
It was a 1905 steam engine passenger train ride
Through the vase landscape being wide
Old Marilyn who ran from West Virginia into the Ozarks
The train that took the name Marilyn from celebrity Marilyn Monroe
Old Marilyn who would run through Overlook Peak and refurbish at Thunder’s Retreat
Everyone from one community to another would see Old Marilyn’s puff of smoke and hear her horn
It would be a signal that “Old Marilyn is coming through”
The passengers enjoyed the scenery ride
It was sit back, and take it in your stride
Old Marilyn had even more history of its own
No one really would have known
Many Celebrities and even one President travelled on Old Marilyn
But Old Marilyn was history when she took the name
As train design changed, Old Marilyn was a name that didn’t remain
The changing of the times
The memory of Old Marilyn steaming around
One could still hear “All Aboard in anywhere bound”
Puff of smoke with the horn sound
Old Marilyn, you captured my heart
Your name will always be written on the chart
It was your history from the very start.
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 6:49 PM UTC
Today I will fall inlove
because tomorrow may never come
I’ll pick daisies in the form of your name
I’ll plant the scent of invisible roses in our minds
like eternal gardens created for us before time
I’ll place a cup of coffee beside our first greeting of ‘hello’
Today I will fall in love
because poetry cannot satisfy
I’ll carry the books of poets you devour
hold them close in the library called my heart
I’ll write the letters you’d never read,
because if you read them you’d fall in love
with my tears not my eyes
Today, I’ll place them beneath your smile
for you to discover
Today I want to fall in love
because you can always refurbish
an old fire place and ashes can be removed
but not the hour nor a day like today
Today I will fall inlove
because I still can and I will
for love never dies, but life may,
before love finds its own place
to exist every day like you and I
Jul 7, 2021
Jul 7, 2021 at 7:54 AM UTC
amid the dross treasures
can be
unearthed
whereby they are repurposed
and
rebirthed
just think of those many
items you've tossed in the
trash
not giving a thought as
to how they could
rehash
gems are discovered neath
the piles of
*******
and collectors bring them
back to life with a
refurbish
May 2, 2021
May 2, 2021 at 2:54 AM UTC
Holes throughout the body—
a syndrome of the past.
Light as a feather,
I float through the lapse.
All the actresses and actors
that push me to perform, get paid—
while the silence of a clever one
avoids this house of blame.
I’m alone when I call you.
I don’t want more shame.
I’m driftwood washing on the shores
of a land called Never-Clean.
Can you help me become new again—
sand me down and stain the pain?
I’m a hollowed human of useless, unkept, selfish rage.
“It’s not that deep—not the deep end,”
said one shallow mate.
They never knew I’d touched the soil
that’s damp and cold— infinite.
“She’s so dramatic.”
emotions—lymphatic—
They drain and drain again.
I’ll be the one, light as driftwood,
from wounds where nails drove in.
Is there any cure for the rot
within this flesh, beneath this skin?
Refurbish me.
Let me live again.
Make me the centerpiece
from that angry river’s end.
Showcase the beauty
of this damage eating in.
She pleads—
“Take me, make me yours,”
as the storm begins to end.
⸻
“This here is an heirloom,”
weathered, rough, reclaimed.
“A simple reminder of the power of potential.
Grandpa found it along the river,
after the great storm—
that same summer he met Grandma
as she ran away.
This is no ordinary driftwood.
The holes carry a whistle
that sings our family’s name.”
Jul 28, 2025
Jul 28, 2025 at 1:31 PM UTC
Art with words
is not for the birds
if it can change a mind
to make it a little less blind
A word can refurbish a spirit
as soon as we hear it
and fill an entire nation
with hope and inspiration
Describe the beauty of dunes of sand
take a person's heart in the palm of your hands
written or read, whispered or yelled
it's not a coincidence how sword is spelled
Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 5:56 PM UTC
And when you decide me as your world,
And when you see me as your screen to trust
Every minute, Every hour
Shower droplets of visual love and touch target
To refurbish our love, time and again
Nov 6, 2019
Nov 6, 2019 at 11:29 PM UTC
fish
splash splish
fins, swish, whish
through water, brackish, greenish
that they swim still astonishs
though on second glance they're sluggish
need to do something before they perish
take them out then,tidy, clean and re-establish
flush the tank, replenish the water, then balance, refurbish
fish....
splash, splish
Mar 6, 2018
Mar 6, 2018 at 12:56 AM UTC
I wonder what is the purpose when the same results always resurface.
I am still here, under all of this refurbish.
Who am I really kidding?
A question I ask myself as I sit through this friendly sunday service.
I will not make a pledge and I will not take a vow, to this war machine that our masses allow.
I transpire visions of a free coexistant world.
The freedom to be or the choice to not become.
My freedom to dream was merely a dream.
There isnt a freedom of choice and there isnt a life outside of the machine, but our own will exists to let live or to let die.
I was born of free will and my death shall rest on my own hands.
Jun 1, 2019
Jun 1, 2019 at 5:28 PM UTC