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I am the rose that grew from concrete
Budded from stones, rocks, mortar, cement, broken glass,  drug vials and bags.
I am a product of my environment.
What you thought would **** me,
Only served to make me stronger.
Evolved into a hybrid
I'm the only of my kind.
My thorns fortified with brass knuckles,
My color faded from weather beatings,
And all other beatings,
The travesty of my existence
is not lost on me.
Beauty in the midst of pain,
And what is the epitome of ugly.
I don't belong here and never did.
Wisdom I have absorbed
From rains never to come again
Rejuvenates my leaves.
Although I cannot absorb it all,
Through the cracks in the concrete.
I relish what I can
And vow to absorb more the next time,
Should I be so fortunate.
Because the concrete can protect
As well as expose my naivete.
So compelling to manipulate,
It would be ideal to control.
Impossible though.
How can you control
What grows and survives in the midst of chaos?
And at what cost to your soul?
Even through the ominous clouds,
I remain in light.
The Sun has never been immune to my plight.
Providing the strength, energy and hope
I'll need for the next season of my fight.
Caddywhompus Nov 2014
A lone drop of coffee
Running down the side
Of my cup
Escaping the terror
Of teeth and tongue

Black gold in the morning
A precious liquid
Awakes me from a slumber
And brightens my day
Sip by sip

Rejuvenates the body,
Mind and soul
Caffeine flows
Through my veins

Motivation in a mug
Brewing is an art
Coffee so dark
It can wake the dead
But instead
Wakes me
Every morning
Chandan sharma Sep 2010
Glorifying amidst the snowy mountains bestowing
rivers  with a splendid shine searching a land
to shower its warmth in a dense grassland,
sun rises with the dawn
like  the spring blooming life in the lawn.

Cold on the cemetery lay like the corpse,
the flower in concealed corner of the lawn.
Life rejuvenates it to exhibit its charisma.
With its exquisite grace,
life fills the daffodils
blooming merrily in the meadows
with the exotic flush of odor enchanting thee .

Life of seven ages leaps and exits slyly like a stranger.
Neither the witty nor the wisest nor do the philosophers
can bamboozle the fate, neither can they preconceive
the lot ,the fate has in store in each slot
hence live the life with fullest enthusiasm and zeal,
the chariots of life bridging
the expedition between birth and rebirth.

Struggle the chill like a gladiator
stand undeterred by the worldly woes.
Life is symbolization of bluebells,lavenders
hedychiums planted on a deserted road,
blend of happiness and agony .
Surrendering to agony is pure escapism.

Each has to surrender on the altar of death
a day or later ,
but till life why not worship the life
like an idol enshrined in the temple
so when thee are asked of
satisfaction in the heavens high
thou may not quote "alas it could have been a day later"
rather thou may be the most enlightened
devotee to stay in the state of bliss and utmost salvation.

Men say life is mortal
But life is eternal you see,
the life is like a divine cascade of holy waters,
one drop dies ,other rejuvenates to life.
Till the nature lives, shall live
the men and generations yet to come.
Life is pouring like the nectar from the heaven's brink,
quite insane it would be to not drink the summary of life.

                                                          ­                         BY CHANDAN SHARMA
may Mar 2018
The feeling of butterflies in your stomach.
The feeling of losing your breath..
and stumbling to find words
feeling clumsy in every movement in their presence.

I'm my own person.
I'm not shy.
I don't get feelings.
I'm not short of words.
I don't get emotional.
I don't get feelings like this.

But feelings are like rain.
You can be in a drought and miss it like hell
..or..
you can forget what it's even like to have water.
But when it comes it floods.
You remember how beautiful the sound of rain is.
How it toys with your insides and makes you feel a roller coaster of emotions.
It makes you feel comforted and at peace
yet its dark and makes you feel alone.
It consumes your thoughts.
It has it's own intentions that you may never know,
it's mysterious and ever changing as it thuds on your rooftop so that all you can hear is its presence then within seconds disappears and when you look outside it's only evidence of existence is the puddle running down the road to disappear like it was never even there.

It is the feeling of love.
You can't control when it comes
you never know how long it will stay but ******* it it's all you can think about when it's here.

But this isn't my first storm.
While I should be dancing in the rain I never forgot the burn of the last storm.
The lightening struck and everything that was, never was the same.
Within a blink of my eye the rain was gone and I spent years trying to recover from the damage it left.
It ruined the curiosity of what each storm entails.
Instead of dancing in the rain I hide from it.
It's hard to let something overtake you when you don't know it's intentions or how long it will stay.

But you can't avoid rain forever.
It feeds and rejuvenates the world.
It gives life to the plants and makes them oh so vivid and colorful.
It washes away the past and gives light to the sun.
I just need to find the storm that always stays with me for the return of the sun.
Loud Music
Music that soothes
Music that rejuvenates
Music that speaks to the souls

Loud music
Forget the lyrics
Its just the beats
On a repeat  
For the amoeba thoughts
Swirling twirling Swimming in uncharted waters
Moulding them into set shapes
Queuing them up in rows
Taming down their pseudo waves

Music that has a feel
The  pebbles cascading
down the stream ,
A tremulous tippy tappy sweet sound
To the heart it appeals, heals

Music that is light and tender
Dim the lights
Close the  eyes
Let the music do the wonders

Music for the senses
That soothes rejuvenates
And speaks to the souls
In tongues ancient
Known ,yet unknown
Patrick McCombs Feb 2011
I lie here in the dark
Your inches away from my face
Its 1AM  in this park
and were staring into space
In the darkness there is calm
You can hear the hum of the earth
The trace of your fingertips on my palm
Its an endless cycle of death and rebirth
We breathe in the silence of the night
The crisp air rejuvenates our hearts
We stare at the flickering street light
Zulu Samperfas May 2013
Left to die, unable to survive on your own
a child thinks this. It is the greatest fear
Doesn't last long, but makes a big impression
A bigger fear than being abused
But today, it means, can mean, freedom
from abuse mistreatment, your insults
their disdain, being his personal punching bag
the scapegoat for his broiling troubles
your neglect, and preference for under age girls
Abandonment is a respite
a place of renewal
a silence that terrifies, but then rejuvenates
as I can think on my own
let my thoughts be my guide, for a better me
Cheyenne Sep 2015
Fire burning in my heart;
Open up, let out the sparks.
Fire rushing through my veins;
Set the whole world ablaze.
Few around because they've learned--
Get too close, you'll get burned.
Fire rushes across the plain.
Forest home goes down in flames.

But I never did mind a little heat.
It keeps me up and on my feet.
Rejuvenates the earth it's scorched--
So light me up, I'll be the torch.
They're so afraid of the destruction,
For bridges burn when there's combustion.
But something I have come to know:
The best bridges are made of stone.
surpratik Aug 2015
I've wrote enough about your eyes,
and how they mesmerize me,
how I try to look into them and read
everything you hold inside you
and how I never could.

I've wrote enough about your lips,
and how they whisper,
beautiful things,
how I need them close to mine
so they could cure my every illness.

I've wrote enough about your skin,
which I believed was carved by Angels
a perfect imperfection, (sort of)
the way you glow against the sun,
rejuvenates every part of me.

Now let me write about your freckles,
little stars they are,
how they make the universe feel so
adorable, beautiful..
making me find my universe in you.

Now let me write about your scars,
which have become every part of you.
But, they rhyme with me now,
they're a part of me now,
that's why I love them too.

Now let me write about your veins,
running down your neck
visible through your fading skin,
I could kiss you, and feel your heart beating
but I'll be the one who'll feel alive.

Let me write all about you,
Your chubby toes, your sleepy voice,
Your breathing, your gaze,
Everything I can touch, everything I can feel.
Let me try..
every detail, every tiny bit
Let me write..
All about you
yet still find
that endless poem,
incomplete.
..
sunsetpoem, she's just a girl living in my head.. and I'm madly in love with her, despite all I never said.
Amitav Radiance Sep 2014
My thoughts are weary travelers
Waiting for the safe haven
Of the blank pages
Where ink rejuvenates them to life
As memoirs for other travelers
lilah raethe Nov 2012
Interesting
        The chance to start over
The smooth clean slate of a brand new surface
Never corrupted nor covered
Never torn to shreds by an unnamed power

Compelling
        The opportunity of new love
A chance to kiss a new pair of lips
To caress the curves of the hands so personal
And walk amongst the wet grass with new life

Sacrificing
        To give up the habits to please the guest
To not wonder about yourself when you rest your head
But depend completely on another for contentedness
Equal forces of give and take, a balance

Committing
        An act of finalization
A marriage proposal, a slit of the throat
Some trenches just too deep to wander
A few possibilities to be left unexplored

Separating
        Forgetting the magnetism of the first touch of fingers
Longing for a kiss on a new, softer mouth
A trail of footsteps leading down different paths
The pedals of a rose begin to sway to the floor

Soaking
       The pedals curl and harden, touching ground all too dull
Melt into the earth and return to where it came
The roots begin to emerge on a mutant species
Water is sprung from the dirt and rejuvenates the body

Interesting
        The chance to start over
Star BG Feb 2021
Eyes they set on beauty,
as morning sun quenches moment.

As ears aligns divine birds
that sing with orchestrated music.

As breath rejuvenates
to see mirror image and smile.

My heart beats in beauty
mirroring in heartbeat own magnificence.

Mirroring the radiance of the soul
that reveals a lotus flower.

That vibrates to guide my way
in steps of dance.

Thoughts they understand
a spark of Divines perfect lives within.

I be co-creator of thy sea.
inspired by Sarita Aditya Verma a gifted poet.
In the midnight vigil of my dreams
A faint lantern light ahead, it leads

The chilling winds that cross the spine
Then the sun that burns, and its shine

My faith has long walked on broken glass
Soul has dripped along, the wounds ever last

A stubborn silence in the place
And a stench of the deceased left to grace

And a carcass of hope that passes by
An autumn leaf, dead, it lies

A spectral music that ensues
A withered tree, its diseased fruit

A velvet night left to stare
And an untamed hollowness left to share

A blunt sword, held by its hilt
To **** some emptiness and eat my fill

I have traveled worlds, horizons apart
Waiting for the tunnel to end, a journey to start

Its only numbness now that I feel
The fire is extinguishing, so is my zeal

My perseverance fails, my eyes shut down
Paradise awaits me, the flames burn down

And then a white light coruscates, fills the sky
The colors reappear, subdue the cries

I see a creature, its golden locks sway
And a flower blooms where the parched land lay

She moves her wand, she spawns a dawn
And she heals the earth where it was torn

And some rain falls, from the ethereal skies above
It rejuvenates my soul, washes away the spilled blood

An exhilarating wind blows, flowers flutter to life
The heaven comes up, with the earth to dine

And I look at her, the angel in disguise
She loosens the knots in the lungs that are tied

The radiance of her beauty, the warmth in her eyes
I fail to behold it, it outcasts the light

And a nightingale sings, breaks the bow
Of silence that was created and was sowed

Some centuries pass, they seem like days
And in the forlorn deserts of time, these memories fall and lay

And then she stabs my heart, she fades away
The mirage disappears, I holding her hand, that was to stay

And it returns, my torment, my grief
Spiraling down, carried by the wind, it falls dead, the leaf

I have grown tired, my legs give away
It has been a strenuous journey, peace my heart craves

I walk down to my grave, a dove flies by
I lay down, beside the stake of holly, jabbed into me by my bride
Sameer Denzi Jul 2014
I have searched for your face tirelessly everywhere.
Though I've failed in my quest, I know you're there...
I have seen your beauty in the full-moon's glow.
I have seen your immensity in the celestial flow.
I have seen your precision in an atoms procession.
I have seen your passion in a poets obsession.
I have seen your bounty when a rain rejuvenates.
I have seen your mercy when a seedling germinates.
I have seen your restrain when injustice prevailed.
I have seen your wrath on great cities razed.
Though I've seen you not, I've seen your essence,
I have felt your love and your nurturing presence.
Seek it... and its secret will unravel before you.
--x--
RAJ NANDY Oct 2014
A poem dedicated to all true lovers of Jazz.

TRIBUTE TO JAZZ MUSIC
      BY RAJ NANDY
I can feel its rhythm and beat,
Along with its pulsating pain!
Its music flows freely….
Through my arteries and veins!
Its beats always echoes,
Through the corridors of my mind,
As I get wafted slowly, on the wings
of mystic time!
Its music gets synchronized,
With my heart’s muffled beat,
As I try to keep time, -
With the tapping of my feet!
Each of its pulsating rhythm,
And all its background chimes,
With its syncopated lilts,
Jazz remains harmonized!

The piano players dancing fingers,
Caresses a rhythmic sway,
While the Sax’s deep-throated tenor,
Drives my loneliness away!
When I hear my old Jazz music,
And those golden classic tunes,
I forget I am getting old,
To time I become immune!
For it is then when I begin to feel,  
like the old King Cole;
As this music tingles my mind,
and rejuvenates my soul!
           - Raj Nandy, New Delhi.
I am a lover of cool & smooth Jazz & have composed the 'History of Jazz in Verse', available in 'Poemhunter.com'. This poem is dedicated to Deborah Brooks and all Lovers of Jazz music like her. Hope you like it! Thanks, -Raj
Nat Lipstadt Jan 2015
dying and living in a pantheon
~


a dusty storage place
for basement keepsakes,
somewhere out back,
full of emeritus stocking stuffers,
an ex-trendy,
royalty-dethroned room

where kept
ancient scriveners,
last year's flash frozen princesses and
plastic wrapped scribes,
cloud stored,
on soft decaying hard drives

prior renters, leases unrenewed,
now pushed aside,
upcoming upstanding upstarts,
looking to trade up,
let bigger quarters,
an existential reminder,
that in the word game,
no perm-press recognition,
in today's poetry biz,
it's what ya done lately

deaf dumb blind,
unsung former idols,
talk to mirrors
that no longer answer,
dial 1-800-pantheon,  
sorry, number no longer in service,
so you voyageur-visit
the other side of Styx,
a bluff overlooking
a body's work,
where glory fleeting
comes to rest,
where time judges well,
partiality impartial,
selects thy best

author an audience of sole one
that be more than
good and plenty,
a heaping teaspoon of sufficient,
glance back at discarded, outdated maps,
glory may transit
but satisfaction eternal,
when you read the old writes thinking
****, did I write this?
"Yes," answers a creased smile
cracking crusted lips

~~~~~

then blood of pride and satisfy, rejuvenates

chest warms, heart thumps,
quill beckons, tablet charges - jot hot

write for whom the bell tolls,
knowing full well
this raucous bell tolls for thee,
you re-become an
irrational ill-defined room possessed

heat,
this realized, fevered and fervent, physical pleasure,
sensory gladness,
the fat fullness of creation,
flooded breathable sunlight,
stormy uncalming indigo waters,
a natural disquietude beckons,
arousal of an old-friend welcoming

this encompassing emotion,
no-direction-known fearful commotion,
your mind, all skin,
tissues enflamed,
your ears speak,
your tongue listens,
five senses unified in
disheartened happy discordant perfection,
this you recognize,
this familiar,
is not a storage place
this, your true everlasting pantheon


glory glory - expel thy word works,

*the burnishing of fain fame
is not walled jailed,
but in-deed
actionable and transitory best honored,
peaks of mountainous-emotions, homeland, motherland,
recording, recoding in words-vision notions,
this is the one,
the inky clarity pantheon place
of the living poet
I surrender to all…
I surrender to all of your subterfuge, all of your deceit, all of your mendacity, all that has become bleak.
You’ve caused me to question humanity, and my soul, oh my soul had a quandary filled with doubt.
The stars slowly begin to fade in luminescence, the darkness begins to speak.
She whispers to me softly of my imminent demise.
She fills me with a newfound sorrow that disheartens my very soul.
The liminal creature that lies at the end of this realm, He lies in the womb of nothingness, he floats above the ground.
He resides in an orb of lightness, fetal position.
-Awaiting the beckoning of a new dawn-
Glorious rays of the sun immerse this sphere, the placenta of iridescence in a positivity surge.
I’m separated from my doppelganger.
I’m searching in the darkness, awaiting the departure of an ebony backdrop lingering everywhere I turn.
-Never-
I hear voices inside of my head screaming of their revulsion and contempt for my being, for my existence.
They’re uttering to me of my folly, reminding me of my shortcomings and iniquities.
I fall to my knees.
I ponder my existence trying to determine where I went wrong.
No, pianos are playing amongst the obscurity of this apparition of the real world.
Minor chords prognosticate the deluge of sadness and doom that awaits me at the core of this abysmal place.
I’m searching for Him; I’m searching for the love of my life, the one that I shall metamorphose into…
-He is I.-
Seeing all of this pain surround me, it becomes hard to continue on my voyage for truth, for chaste efflorescence.
“I long to reach the zenith of my potential, to expand in caliber”
“I long to expand in breadth, width and height into an even more colossal creature.”
“I shall tower above the Earth, touching the sky.”
Emerging from my cocoon, a goliath wing shall glide off into the sunset in search of a brighter tomorrow.
When will I find myself?
A swirling column of light emerges from the ground beneath me, and lush foliage gently embraces my waning vitality.
It rejuvenates me with the breath of life.
-I’ve been given a second chance at life-
I glimmer with an iridescent light emanating from my heart and soul; and I illuminate the darkness.
The chaos surrounding me is warded off and I can hear the cries of The Malevolent signifying His pain.
He has succeeded for but a moment at encumbering my soul but now, now?
I see a new entity over the horizon.
Supplication has led to efflorescence in my spirit.
I’m nearing the edge of the world, or this world, the world I once knew and that once was in order to embrace a higher plane of existence.
I shall fuse with my other half.
I shall bloom like the most delicate and dainty orchid budding in the vernal atmosphere.
This is what you’ve done to me…
You’ve made a fighter out of a pacifist.
“I’ve evolved due to your vitriolic ways and I sincerely express my gratitude.”
-He is waiting-
-He is waiting-

By, Iridescently Effloresent
Highly symbolic free verse that is somewhat similar to a short story in poetic format. It pertains to my struggles in life but it is expressed through philosophy and metaphors. Hope you enjoy and please if you have any constructive feedback, do not hesitate to comment!
YoungSymba Oct 2015
I get fleeting glimpse of the skies whenever I glance at her eyes
I see the stars entwine,twinkling,dancing to the rhythm of your heart.
breathing new air into my lungs
Which certainly rejuvenates me back to life.
Cover my scars with words that spell out "you'll be fine" synonymously as a tattoo would promising me eternal shine.

I could've been sceptical and believe my eyes have seen a mirage due to the paths in the past whereby a candle went out in the long run and introduced me to the dark.

Comforted me with a smile that ignited your aura.
Smoothened my tongue with that honey that sourced of your thoughts that are floral.
Her.A.Beautiful.Dream
Andrew Penman Feb 2011
I am often a
wingless
bird
unable to fly
a word
a smile
a how you do
from friends
rejuvenates
my lifeless
limbs
gleefully
shouting
I am alive
I can fly
ready for
the clear
blue sky
that is
the light
of day.
Torontoisart Aug 2017
Demonic angel with rage in his heart
Keeps himself numb from feeling
Expresses his pain through art

He covers himself with human skin
Walks with a smile on his face
And rejuvenates his thirst with sin

He's learnt their tongue
They hiss like snakes
With venom to **** their own mates

They are a foul species
Without even being conscious of their own demise
They drown in their own lies

How can you be a saviour to a aremegedon
He realises its time to rid of himself of this place
Wash out this sinister taste

They sin like demons
But walk around with halos above their heads
Pray every night beside their beds

He sees potential in a few and tries to keep them close
But he's afraid of a feeling that tells him
They will drink from his soul and overdose

They will leave him dry and lifeless
He must remain cautious and stay on this earth
It may have some worth

-T
The Tinkerer May 2016
You feel the music flow through you,
Losing to the tune, you begin to move..
Nothing matters, you're in the groove.

People might say it's a waste of time.
They have no idea of this peace of mind.
A graceful art, dancing to music in time.
Invokes the body, rejuvenates the mind.

Care naught what people might say.
So long as in dance, you find a way,
For love and life to be embraced.

So long as sorrow it does erase,
So long as it keeps a smile on your face,
Do as you do, *sway as you sway..
Do what you love, then nobody's ever got the right to stop you doing what you do. Do what you love, so life is so easy this way.
Jessica Bennett Sep 2013
Tragedy rips through you like fire
And ***** all the oxygen from the room.
Lungs wheeze.
Cling to the earth, crawl forward.
There is no escape from the flames.

Sorrow consumes you,
Leaving charred remains.
Blackened and fragile.
The slightest touch,
Crumbles to ash.

Hope hangs in the air around you.
A breeze that scatters ash
To the ether.
Air that inflates.
Oxygen that rejuvenates.
It's the first breath
After being trapped in a fire.
summer always feels the best
and it shares all humans
with no explanation.

summer holds innumerable quests
and they hold within them
lessons and learning.

summer can’t quite compare to winter
with devoid gales holding ransom
to the inside of an insulated wok.

summer isn’t an escape
from rough workloads and energy
spent from winning all that bread.

summer is a connection with self
that permeates all fibers
of the self and rejuvenates the soul.
Atlas Rover May 2014
At times I confess,
The follies that are part of me,
The bane of being human,
Force me to find recluse in solitude,
Away from the squabbles of mortal men,
Who fight for things immaterial,
Spurning things that they should endevour to have.
Alas, it shames me not,
That solitude at times,
Rejuvenates some hidden part of myself,
A resevoir refilled, replenished.
I spend my time alone,
Listening to the solitary wind,
Or to the beats of some bard’s song,
Uncovering meaning in both.
But I must admit there are times,
When I watch lovers entwined in a casual embrace,
Or a child’s loving gaze at his parent,
And realization strikes me.
Although I like being alone at times,
The wine of loneliness bitters my withered soul.
Sleep is a wonderful place.
Sleep takes us to escape on a dreams never ending journey.
Rejuvenates your energy, to a positive start.
Wake up and breath then go to sleep and grieve, cry, meditate, smile, blush or however your day made you feel.
Go to bed with the feeling life gave you, for as it makes you who you are the next day, even if it's negative, give yourself a fresh new start.
They say insomniacs never sleep, but they have to sleep at some point in time.
Sleep is a wonderful place, to be in your warm bed under the blankets.
Cotton,
Feathers,
Go green fabrics.
Sleep is wonderful, I recommend you try it.
Clouds and blue skies, counting sheep jump over the fences, moon and stars, happy feelings, oh darling, don't be afraid of the dark, I promise, it'll take you somewhere special. Dandelions, sunflowers or fields to valleys filled with bright green grass and light with love. Put on your pajamas, sleep naked.
Do what works for you, to make your dream work. To sleep wonderful.
It's your moment to think, reflect on your day. But what will happen the next we won know until we sleep wonderful.
Credits to;
Gourav R Dwivedi, for recommending the title of this poet.
Thank you all for reading.
Monica Rose Aug 2010
I wake in the morning
And I have missed yet another sun breaching the horizon
Clarity comes, full rest rejuvenates.
Before long, worries remembered
Ball and chain secured,
Weighed down by a thousand yesterdays
Each and everyone endured.
jigyasa Nov 2015
Monday night
Because weekdays make a woman ache
after a heart break

Strawberry sugar sugar
Caress me in all the warm and wet ways
(papillae)
viscously ****** strands

Broad shoulders Breathtaking Collar
Bones
Is what I’ll pick with you tomorrow
Because atleast a margarita hits the spot every time

Toss

mmmh
Darling don’t stop

Toss

Sticky pulp invigorates
Rejuvenates my taste buds
Fills my hunger
moan louder, ******* stranger

Toss

Deeper and Deeper into the papaya womb
Don’t stop! Don’t stop!
The mango the endocarp
Slurp it till it runs dry

Toss

Lap it up boy. We’re both famished
But only you know I’m the fruit piece
You’ll toss
RiBa Oct 2017
The luminescent stars
Grace the inky firmament
Diamonds glistening in the night
And Quiet flows the River

Broad and mighty
A Boudicae, wounded in a million wars
And yet beauteous and kind
Gently flows She.

Her sacred touch rejuvenates
Graceful as Diana
She meanders amidst pain and strife
And flows ethereally

Oh Ganga, thy beauty is divine
The Baul sings
Oh Giver of life! Bless me eternally
And Silently flows She.
Ganga - indian name of the Ganges river
Baul - a wandering bard who sing in the villages of Bengal
Arfah Afaqi Zia Jun 2016
Spirituality sparks from within,
Love rejuvenates from depth,
Eyes drown and sink,
From beginning to end,
My heart yearns for you,
We connect through engaging eyes,

Your touch, Celeste and blazing,
Radiating and driving me crazy,
What is it about that touch?
It excites me so much,
My body experiences changes when you caress,
That touch so exulting that it leaves me wanting more.
Meenu Syriac May 2014
Rain, like a mighty shower fall upon this barren land
That doth the hungry landscape receives with open arms...
To drink till thirst, quench'd and forgotten,
And life rejuvenates into the ***** of the earth, to fix all that is broken...
Heart, roused with blood
you are lively as the sun,
but ever are you small,
and fiendishly are you undone..

You are majestic,
and as important as Night,
but you are destined
to fail amidst this fight..

This fight..
Between Dark and Light,
too cold for the moon,
and too warm for the sun,
you increasingly sway to opposite ends
and ever do you believe to have faith
but your faith is melted upon my will...

Darkness rouses thee,
and in curiosity innocent,
you crack open the closet
that hides the dark commandment
that shall ever bind you in despair
and shall twist you though you were as air..

Light rejuvenates you,
and through the longing days
of evil trodden forth
you complacently design yourself
a structure of immunity
to swell and flee fast
against this growing evil seed..

Together you two,
designed by Love and Hate,
have conspired,
to remove the 3rd; Innate..
For no man on Earth,
nor in Skies, or in Seas,
might chose the middle,
where lies no man to be..

You might protect us,
and you might save us,
but you fuel a pollution strong,
that ever writhes within us,
a dichotomy of song
that ever equivocates us
and ever decimates us..

The Heart is our enemy,
and yet is our savior,
but it is not ours,
nor our being
you decide our fate so idiosyncratically,
and perceptual; to be such a misnomer,
For the Heart is a will, not a being, no, not even a power,
and is tortured by our breathing..

The Heart is a riddle,
no man yet may dare defy,
for within this heart is a circle
of ritual and lie..

The Heart is life,
but at it's own free will,
and it alone decides our strife
that with pain for it we seek to fill,
So how, on Earth, Heaven, or Hell,
does it list us as its friend,
and how does it follow us to the End?
Man may never tell...
050515

The shower held me in wrestle
With the waterfall of grace
I saw my hair strands tiptoeing
As if the King's blood
Rejuvenates my entity.

I was oppressed and seared
By the world's shampoo of pain,
And a pinch of branded conditioner
Deceiving my hispanic lifestyle.

I wore no make up nor my fave mascara
And never have I tried to fake my lashes
But sometimes, my clamor becomes so fraud
I was so ashamed with my martyr side
I no longer know myself.

My eyes speaks the flames of my soul
It keeps dashing those pixelized scenes
And all I ever wanted was to be consumed
That ashes will be my destination
It's pretty inhumane *
To have a huge termination.

Life in it's middle
Was the slash-and-burn portion
At first, *I took few steps

In order to learn faith by heart.

Then later on,
I got blundered and fluffed
But the Small Voice within me
Has pacified the other voices.

I never meant to suffer like this
I found my blind spot,
Yes, I did search it
Coz if not, never will I know
That He can unwrap me
From the warpage
Of real aesthetics with purpose.

It's not me at all,
But it should not me neither,
I was caumoflaged by grace.

And no matter how deep the cuts are,
No matter how drained my blood is,
I will still choose persistence
And even the world's deadliest weapon,
Those tunnels of disgrace
Shall no longer breakpass my *foundation.
Sadness grows on trees like the heavy, impregnated fruit that weighs down its boughs.
The fruit will soon fall as will its leaves until the tree stands alone -
Calm, in Pure Stillness,
Bearing the bitter cold and harsh wind of winter
Until one day spring arrives and rejuvenates her once more
Past day’s slog for the bread
From the sky above the deserted street
I beg a poem in my head.

A sparky thought from congealed weariness
Then rises from the pave
And in starlight as I follow its trace
A night warrior is reborn from day’s slave!

Its grace saves the mind chiseled arts
Rejuvenates the dreamer for another day
Forgotten is all the pain all that hurts
From breaking point life comes back to stay!

From the hungry eyes’ glow down below
From the heavens above me spread
From the unseen nocturnes of tomorrow
I beg a poem in my head.

— The End —