"reincarnate" poems
Together they were the perfect team.
She was tired of perfection long before she met him. Constantly having to put up a successful front was exhausting, but her barrier of bravado was faltering.
It's hard to find imperfections in an idyllic world.
He didn't want to live in the life of his reputation anymore. The tornado that his life had become was beginning to ruin him and he wanted nothing more to find some quiet.
It's hard to find solace in the storm.
No longer did she want to create masterpieces; she wanted to wreak havoc. She had a taste of the life she wanted, but once you take the first few steps on the path of self-destruction, you cannot turn back. The whisper in the wind becomes seductive. Like a drug, she needed it. She made a U-turn, a complete diversion from the road that had been paved for her. She felt a rush from the change of direction, and fell in love with it. He was her change of direction.
It's hard to find fault in someone that provides the mess you've been searching for.
He wanted nothing more than some peace in his whirlwind of a life; maybe that's why he gravitated towards her. She gave him the comfort that he had desired for years. She made him feel as if the rollercoaster, designed as a downwards spiral, that he has been riding since birth was starting to calm down. She became the sense of calm in his brutal life.
It's impossible to reject something you have been seeking for years.
Together they were unstoppable. She lost herself in his chaos and she took it on herself. She was an angel who lost her way, blinded by desire for imperfection and love for a boy that finally made her feel again. He was a hurricane that found the solace in her that he has wanted for what felt like an eternity. He revelled in the peace she brought to his life and he loved her more than he could articulate.
She found her demon; she became a fallen angel, the devil reincarnate that took the chaos out of his life and put it into hers.
He found his angel; he became a quiet rainfall that gave his tornado to the girl that craved the destruction it created.
Together they were the perfect team.
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 3:42 PM UTC
O Thou to whom the musical white spring
offers her lily inextinguishable,
taught by thy tremulous grace bravely to fling
Implacable death’s mysteriously sable
rob from her redolent shoulders,
Thou from whose
feet reincarnate song suddenly leaping
flameflung,mounts,inimitably to lose
herself where the wet stars softly are keeping
their exquisite dreams—O Love! upon thy dim
shrine of intangible commemoration,
(from whose faint close as some grave languorous hymn
pledge to illimitable dissipation
unhurried clouds of incense fleetly roll)
i spill my bright incalculable soul.
7.1k
The shivering eyeglasses lazily coating the ground
Break way to the budding of the season.
To reincarnate is to live the anomaly,
The evergreen boughs bend in the wind.
Coalescing crystals form dew on our morn
To leave a fresh taste, on lips, on tongue.
The time is imminent, but the dawn is young,
My white Orchid, born to the sun.
Simply, optically, it's to weak to touch
Unworthy digits, to blind to see.
My scarlet levees, to right to feel.
The ivory blossom, to right to be real.
Under the canopies, the shimmering outline
Moves closer until the mirror cracks
And our reflections are polymorphicly one,
Our hearts still polyamorously two.
I yearn to dream of lucid lavender,
The aroma surrounds the dream, still dreamed
The scent so real, or so it seemed
Encapsulating this moment in amber.
Until we sleep, until we fly
Together. Our wings open to embrace the quilted high.
Our mouths embrace to fill the void,
Unleash the magic, bathing us in light
Bricks and mortar overlap my thoughts
But time alone is not a wall.
Time alone, it cannot fall
And it still ticks with the beat of my pendulum.
Oh flower, oh life, vitality aplenty.
Your hideousness, a secret untold,
Withers to your beauty, yet to unmold.
Le voyage fantasme is here for me now.
And now the grains slip between my toes.
The sandcastles caress the glass of our hour.
It's never too late, but always on time,
So before the light fades, kiss me and say
"I'll sleep tonight,
I'll dream of you."
Orchid, my Orchid, love, my love
I'll dream with you forever.
Nov 3, 2010
Nov 3, 2010 at 7:39 PM UTC
Tears
shining like precious pearls,
from the corner of your oyster eyes,
trickle in transparent torrents
into the sea of sadness
and drown in the
turbulence of the
wailing whirlpool…
Like jewels, so bright
saline stars stream down
from the sky of your face
to perform
dance of the dire distress
salsa of sad solitude
ballet of broken heart
waltz of weeping emotions
tango of tearful longing…
From the dark veil of clouds
like melting snowflakes,
crystal drops
roll down
your cheeks,
to unfathomable depths
of your heavy heart…
Simple release of sentiments
from overflowing well of eyes
shed silent tears of agony,
streaming down,
trails of shattered dreams
leave traces of hurt and pain…
Lifting your sad face,
with a touch of warmth and love
I wipe your fragile tears.
You smile -
and they reincarnate
as beautiful tears
of happiness…
Copyright 2011 © Bharat B. Trivedi
Sep 25, 2011
Sep 25, 2011 at 3:45 AM UTC
You'll never believe this
but,
I drank from God's flask the other day.
Yeah,
Convinced that it was half full
Of conscientiousness.
Of hope, or passion, or honesty,
or somethingworthgivingashitabout.
For it had once appeared to many,
A beautiful and grand canteen,
Forged of liquid silver.
And as I allowed the contents to inwardly surge,
I realized that it had plunged into the same carnal vessel
From whence it came,
And the lining of my body had been holding the ancient linings of other bodies,
Reincarnate.
Romantic,
If that's the way you wanna slice it.
But
There is a recipe for such rapture,
And it's been written on pages much less holy than the Bible--
On the coffee stained clipboards of chemists
And the meticulous manuscripts of mathematicians.
It's made out of the same **** that everything else is made of:
Out of the same force that makes you float when you sit in the dead sea,
Out of your body's sweat after a hard day's work,
Out of the blood in your veins.
Salt.
All of it, everything, everyone,
Salt.
Dissolved, crystallized, harvested, ingested,
Redissolved, recrystallized, and the cycle repeated.
Feb 12, 2012
Feb 12, 2012 at 11:31 AM UTC
Today, suddenly, I reached an absurd but unerring conclusion. In a moment of enlightenment, I realized that I'm nobody, absolutely nobody. When the lightning flashed, I saw that what I had thought to be a city was in fact a deserted plain and, in the same sinister light that revealed me to myself, there seemed to be no sky above it. I was robbed of any possibility of having existed before the world. If I was ever reincarnated, I must have done so without myself, without a self to reincarnate.
I am the outskirts of some non-existent town, the long-winded prologue to an unwritten book. I'm nobody, nobody. I don't know how to feel or think or love. I'm a character in a novel as yet unwritten, hovering in the air and undone before I've even existed, amongst the dreams of someone who never quite managed to breathe life into me.
I'm always thinking, always feeling, but my thoughts lack all reason, my emotions all feeling. I'm falling through a trapdoor, through infinite, infinitous space, in a directionless, empty fall. My soul is a black maelstrom, a great madness spinning about a vacuum, the swirling of a vast ocean around a hole in the void, and in the waters, more like whirlwinds than waters, float images of all I ever saw or heard in the world: houses, faces, books, boxes, snatches of music and fragments of voices, all caught up in a sinister, bottomless whirlpool.
And I, I myself, am the centre that exists only because the geometry of the abyss demands it; I am the nothing around which all this spins, I exist so that it can spin, I am a centre that exists only because every circle has one. I, I myself, am the well in which the walls have fallen away to leave only viscous slime. I am the centre of everything surrounded by the great nothing.
And it is as if hell itself were laughing within me but, instead of the human touch of diabolical laughter, there's the mad croak of the dead universe, the circling cadaver of physical space, the end of all worlds drifting blackly in the wind, misshapen, anachronistic, without the God who created it, without God himself who spins in the dark of darks, impossible, unique, everything.
If only I could think! If only I could feel!
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 9:58 PM UTC
Who am I now
I have been hurting
In the workplace, at home, in my own body
I feel broken
Forsaken
By a God no longer living
I'm with people
I feel alone
Thoughts sparked
Train running
I don't open my mouth
Crash landing in the tunnel
My hands are shaking
Should have let it out
Should have wrote it down
Now I'm choking on my ideas and thoughts
Now I'm drowning in my stubborn loneliness
I'm still with people
I open my mouth
Jumbled words fall out
I ask about them and they ask about me
No stimulation
Just simple small talk
No conversation
They're knocking on my skull asking whats happening
I throw my hands up and tell them I'm trying
They give awkward stares
Sometimes knowing eyes and understanding nods
But I flare and wear and tear myself apart
Grow out all my hair then shave it all off
Search inside every lost memory
Rethink through every philosophy
Reincarnate every fiber in my being
Recreate my everything
I'm soul searching and soul mate flirting
Because this is the middle
These are the moments that matter
This growing experience is just me climbing the ladder
This sick game we live in
These money controlled societies
They don't care about the essence of you
The tears and feeling blue
The messages the world and God send you
Its up to you
You can fight it
But do not forget the people behind you
Your bonds are unbreakable
Your God is unstoppable
My God this world around me
This atmosphere running through me
I can't feel whats around me
My mind has gone crazy
I'm just trying to save me, baby
I am trying
The world has gotten me by the neck
(Lord, help me)
But I am fighting to win my heart back
From these devil memories
I am living the yin yang
I thrash in my sleep
I am back and forth between Mundale and Westfield
Slacking on making my poems into songs
Do not doubt my masculinity just because I am a woman
I am stronger than any of you men
Don't **** with me
-Amen.
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 3:09 AM UTC
Bathed in silver, cracked in gold
love got into one of your stories again.
❝ i swear i didn't mean to be temporary ❞
Sangria flames and broken glass;
dry ashes mixed with lavender petals,
a phoenix beckoning the silk threads of night
❝ desolation took a bite from the moon ❞
You will become brittle dust to feed old books on shelves,
and I don't regret that I both poured
and drank
a cup of lust and sorrow, just for you
❝ do you still want to kiss the ink off my lips ❞
Tip the dish to catch the koi,
as you reincarnate once again;
mind those knives in the sink,
and please remember, that fire is impatient
❝as you succumb to me in all thousand lives. ❞
Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 11:58 PM UTC
The dream haunts me
often, far too often, building
in intensity but is initially
disguised in absurdity and the
nonsense of a young man's lusts
with an old man's deficits.
This woman-like entity,
ill-defined at first but forming
voluptuously, emerges from
swelling curtains. She moves, more
levitates, toward my bed, buoyed
by what I don't know, but angelic-like
it would seem. Or perhaps
an Aphrodite reincarnate?
Oh this goddess, what pale
skin, as Parian marble, full bosomed,
jutting ******* ***** that
beckon, nearly drool, and pursed
red lips beaded with sweet
juice stolen from the wild cherry
tree beneath my window.
Far too much clarity for a simple
dream. But such a dream! And what
seething testosterone I feel!
I am become a hedonist, raging,
pulsing spermatozoa, renewed
of time and youthful energies.
Nerve into nerve we join, ecstacy
compounding ecstacy, bodies wantonly
impaling the other on this love bed
to the result that each cell of our
individualities melds. We are indistinct,
yes - as one, and any ****** impulse
between us is shared to the point of
utter exhaustion, depletion. I am
nearly drained of life, it would seem.
Then, as it always must,
the scene changes, Act II.
Inexplicably, shedding a ******
serpentine-like skin, she slings it away
and drops limply upon me - entirely
skeletal, dry cartilage, sinew, lifeless,
sexless, motionless. The horror
of a diabolical hollowness
stares through me, and I am
suspended, fully terrorized, in
this paralysis. So, this is
succumbing to the Succubus?
God, my dear God, that I should
never dream again!
--
Oct 12, 2011
Oct 12, 2011 at 10:25 AM UTC
Nature is trying to roll over you
Chew you up and reincarnate you
I walked out of my poetry reading
having declared whiteness is a mental illness
As I was being told which poems were their favorites
A woman passing by overheard them say
“mixed race”
She said to me,
“Cain?”
I said what from the bible?
She said no
“biracial Cain.”
There was a long pause and she could tell I didn’t know what she meant
She said,
“Cain was my step son.”
“He just killed himself in his cell the other day… because the police were harassing him about being black and white.”
I felt so desperate to help
I told her I’m trying to change things
I cannot bring back her step son
I put a ski mask on
and said come with me
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 7:25 PM UTC
Cheesecake,
o’ Cheesecake.
I can still remember
the day you were born.
But how sad it was,
since your life only lasted for a couple of minutes
because
I ate you right away.
Your delicious fragrance,
arose
from your mom’s tummy, which was named
The Oven.
Your skin got tanner, and tanner
as your body grew;
luckily, you
were not overcooked.
I waited
for the moment you came out
and it was
magic.
Your stunning golden skin,
so tanned
and ****
I turned out being a beast
and you were the beauty
who caught my eyes
without a second delayed.
And the perfume you wore that day
smelled beautiful, too,
as if I would bite you
with hunger.
Mmm’ creamy flesh
with cheesy flavour,
spread in my mouth
every bit of yours.
You gave me a dilemma, since
I wanted you to live
for me
to embrace your beauty;
I wanted you to die
in my mouth
with satisfaction.
Your splendid funeral
in my stomach
was as great as many others’.
Don’t be sad
for leaving me soon
don’t regret
dying young.
I love you
and
I’m sure
one day soon you
will reincarnate
as another
Cheesecake baby.
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 12:21 PM UTC
Mary, plain name. Mary, mother of God
Mary, Queen of the Strip Mall
Mary, daughter of a King and a *****
Divinity in her blood, conqueror of lands,
Monarch of her body, kingdom of junkies.
Nails inlaid with pearls, mink lashes and onyx eyes
Indigo polyester wraps her 36, 30, 41,
saltwater taffy legs, **** and ***
Mary wasn’t a tall boy, Mary is a funnel cloud queen
Obsidian brazilian in velcro, soda can curls.
Mary has no titles, Mary is a ******* Mary is an exile.
Queen of cream stucco and neon and parking lots.
Mary has disciples, all named Judas.
She has Roy Cohn, the judge’s son, and Louis XIV on their knees in prayer.
She has **** Cheney, Little Richard, and Freud their knees in the bathroom behind the Tesco.
Mary doesn’t confess, doesn’t beg, doesn’t buy.
Mary the conqueror, Alexander reincarnate, she survives.
Body bathed in ultraviolet, cocoa butter, vaseline, and newport menthols.
Mary talks to God in the mirrors at the salvation army.
Mary is scared of dying, she knows she is no ones martyr.
Mary never kneels, left the Bible in the motel nightstand.
A graceful end, a unceremonious departure.
Trade rose petals for needles and styrofoam slurpee cups.
Mary’s mistresses, lovers, and wives, gave her a few lead rounds,
Left her in the strip mall mausoleum.
Mary, queen of the carnal, saint of suburban perversions.
Mary never asked God for forgiveness or a fix.
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 3:47 PM UTC
My body rots away
Before my very eyes
Skin falls free from flesh
I reek of decomposition
Carnivorous I have become
I hunger only for meat
Raw and ******
I can not satisfy these cravings
As I walk bones break
Jutting through tattered clothing
I drag them on, unaffected
I am death reincarnate
Hair peels away from scalp
I am far beyond sick
This sickness is not cancer
I am not dying, I am already dead
Retina dangles freely from socket
Yet I still see clearly
I see a future full of those like me
I am the beginning of the end
Teeth rest loose in gums
Sinking deep into purity, humanity
I am the second coming, apocalypse now
I am zombie
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 10:59 AM UTC
you are beautiful
i have thought this truth before
many times
while watching you stand in the door
my lovely elvis presley in disguise
memphis has put a sparkle in your eyes
let me have no other! so you can feel my love, unweathered,
it would all be much better if you just--forget her,
the only thing that makes miles distance is fear
so do a little something for your soul, and come on over here
i have sung this song before,
hummed the very same tune
to younger ears a couple years ago
look at me: a mockingbird marionette, fumbling
a millennial juliet reincarnate, crumbling
beneath familial fears and plain lack of years
it's not what it seems!
do not drink the poison!
i will see you on the other side!
i mean, it's just a ride, but
my ears have started to ring from
the sound of going mental
the sting of crashed potential
the forget-you-forget-me riptide
i still see your face, i step inside
i must move on and live my life
but how lovely would it be, to be together?
to cross time, and space
for the intergalactic sparkle of your face
for the pure pleasure of watching
each other make each other
happy
we used to write poems for each other
i have pictured myself there
in the pink atmosphere
floating with you, fellow air sign
for quite some time
i have prepared my body and my mind
for the pull of your gravity
washing over me, my skin, my spine
to let you have me
my atoms would surrender
on every eve
but elvis presley was a thief
and tennessee has nothing for me
i now
admit
defeat
this poem:
obsolete
Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 7:33 PM UTC
I imagine I must talk to my dead seventh grade teacher
who told me to be better, who
told off the children when they brought me a butcher knife
because I cannot learn algebra if I am dead.
The deceased are more than likely with the sun
wherever it is right now. Tomorrow’s twilight, I will find
my dead seventh grade math teacher
stand on my tippy-toes,
try to be as tall as him and ask if he still thinks I should be
alive. Five years later and I cannot understand
why a person with his same name could
ruin my life when he, in turn, saved mine. I am a bad
person for wishing she were the one that the flu took then.
Unlike the others,
Mr. Kats did not mention the SATs or growing up. He
would not be there to see either happen
and I bet he believed God knew.
Then again, I knew the side of him that did not
know God well enough to remind me of a Mormon church
until I saw his youngest daughter alone on her knees
whilst the eldest sang about how
her father would never need to move with
a walker. I held my best friend’s hand
when we met his corpse, because he had saved her too.
I imagine we must talk, but not for me to tell him
that I do not care about algebra, I guess he already realizes.
We were never really special to each other
when I think about it,
he was too strict and I was too sad and now it’s too quiet:
I haven’t entered a classroom since, died some as well
but my only punishment
was a broken heart by his reincarnate. There was no lesson.
Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 1:42 PM UTC
and thus I reincarnate
it was the nightingale
in the timid silence
spoke to me as my friend
a friend, from infinity to infinity
from before the birth of god
until after the death of time
it was a curse of a hovering falcon
to swerve
to fall asleep
if was a voice that kissed
like chant it ran through
oh friend! speak, speak of love
to embrace the life
here I come
here, o friend, you reincarnate me.
May 29, 2012
May 29, 2012 at 12:05 PM UTC
I died in the black and white of the Great Depression
I died in the blast of Hiroshima
I died in the forests of Vietnam
And none of them knew who I was
But when I died in America’s recession I was lying on the pavement
And my head was sticking out my cardboard smoking a cigarette
Pleading for a second chance at life, another birth to come out of a hole
I was bleeding to live the life like others
Marrying together and Christmas was every other year
When my tears fell apart at the sight of my children opening their gifts
All the things I made for them and Christ, are you listening?
I’m blessed at the moment and nothing is wrong
They asked if I believed
They asked if I hoped
And they asked if I prayed
And they asked if wanted to come back to earth
And I told them all I never thought I could exist again
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 4:13 PM UTC
A carnivorous beast lies pitted deep inside.
It devours its prey, gorging till it subsides.
Living in the heart of man, this beast doth reside.
It stalks upon carnal thoughts yet to betide.
A reincarnate knight seeks a kingdom of glory.
To vanquish the beast: his reoccurring story.
Oft' has the beast left the field torn and gory.
Yet, the knight strives for resplendent victory.
Fanfare pierces the soul; the champion sheathes his sword.
Returning to his dais, the knight returns as lord.
Sep 12, 2021
Sep 12, 2021 at 3:14 PM UTC
The thorns that ***** your heel when you walk into the jungle unsure
The wild monsters that appear in your nightmares float around
The trees, like scarecrows appear like scars on your neck
There is a war inside your head
Reignite your flames, phoenix
And reincarnate
Jan 22, 2021
Jan 22, 2021 at 5:10 PM UTC
Like all great love stories
shadows riddled with sadness
lay in balance
persisting
penetrating
pushing apart
Water freezes
in the cracks of a rock
and eventually
shatters it to pieces
Chaos to order to disorder
Mindful acceptance
Entropy
unbreakable universal law
applying to
the entirety of existence-
and that does not exclude
love
So when stars
go supernova
-Chaos-
Billions of years pass
Planets form
and the atoms
reincarnate
into two human beings
who are deeply
passionately
and madly
in-love-
That is the pinnacle
the highest
state of
-Order-
that can possibly exist
There can be nothing greater
Nothing of more substance
and so begins
-Disorder-
It simply cannot last
That love
has taught you both
everything
you will ever need to know
and it is time
to become
the next reincarnation
of ourselves
That love engrained
is now forever
a part of you
Through years
Through lifetimes
Through millennia
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 2:17 PM UTC
Sometimes i just sit here and think about death
Should i take my life with my own hands?
What is there to live for?
Its like i've already been through everything before
I feel so old though im still 23
So young and have lost the passion to live
It's Like i've been here for too long
Maybe i just dont belong
Im not feeling depressed or something of the sort
I just dont have a purpose to live for
Anyway i know its just a phase
My sorrows will soon fade
I'll be happy again
Just to get low after awhile
And this circle will keep turning till the end of time
Besides if i'd take my own life and commit succide
Karma is a ***** and would reincarnate me right back from the other side
Because i was a coward and didnt stick to the plan
Just to live and experience the pain again
So i ll just face those difficulties in this life
So i could die peacefully and enjoy the after life.
Words Of Harfouchism
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 6:35 PM UTC
Through a wet night,
And beside an ancient moon,
Came the wolfs howling croon,
Sacred trees breath,
And fire exhausts the soft air,
True Leopards lair.
Lying with eyes of beauty,
And the quiet stillness of perfection,
Silent and soothing,
The velvet wind,
As she licks and teases,
Flicks and breezes under my skin,
And again I'm within her secret layer,
Easing, breathing,
United duelation,
The birth of a nation swims silently in the dark,
Probing sublimation,
Soft and smooth,
To the end of the groove,
And still no more to move,
For sweat speaks exhausted talk,
And pleasure retires to reincarnate,
We've breached the gate,
Coupled warmth smothers,
The light fades,
Woven bodies beneath the moon,
Sleep now for we will awake soon.
....................................................
Oct 8, 2009
Oct 8, 2009 at 8:59 AM UTC
i've always known
i am not from this earth
a small starseed reincarnate
embodying my sparkling ancestors
made of stardust
glitter pours out of me when i speak
the milky way lays itself out in front me
like a red carpet
begging me to cross it
it's quite lonely here
inside this human body
_why doesn't anybody here
love like they did
in the stars?_
May 10, 2019
May 10, 2019 at 9:49 AM UTC
Backdropped by your setting midnight sun
This blackened tree of gnarled and crooked branches
Shorn of starlings nest or buds of leaves to bloom
Is but Mother Nature's abandoned child awaiting Proserpina's call
As its frayed ropeswing hangs unstirred and unmoved
A seat for two carved and formed of connecting crosses
One of breathing heart, of hope and purest salvation
One of loneliness, despair and decomposing isolation
For time has never seen right to pass our way
And I've long since stopped believing in some afterlife
Yet with you, i dream to reincarnate another life
Where everything is different yet nothing has changed
And I will seek you out, I will hunt you down if i must
I will choose your beating vibrant heart
Encapsulate it forever in that painted yellow sun
So connected crosses can dance as one before thy Spring is done
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 3:15 PM UTC