"reverberating" poems
*Her soul was clenched in the hands of distress
The feeble screams were reverberating in the dungeon
Not even the faintest light were allowed to entertain her
Till her soul regained the power to scream
Only her soulmate in distant land could hear it
As everyone was oblivious of her agony and suffering
Defying all odds, the soulmate reclaimed his Love*
© Amitav (Radiance)
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 8:52 AM UTC
like that pill bitter Sunday morning (after)
with a nauseating hack
the previously uneventful Tuesday
derailed
in surrealistic tale
with Auntie and Jack (and a quarter of fate)
in the 748
on a night flight
from Sherwood to Lore
reverberating waves
of imminent summer haze
river flats
and flower fields
fly weights
and silver bait
shredders and shysters
and open gates
(into those everlasting
and sweated journeys of hope)
bloods and strays
and florentine grays
(reminiscent of Rockwell fame)
running horses
and overgrown country lanes
morning grace
and gentle cheer
eyes clear
on the river pass
*blunted paddles for those ancient
and not so willing suckers!*
duke making his own way
(to the corner club)
Parsons and Poe
stream from the torn screen door
cricket cadence
and symphony of the Deere
calm and deliberate
in the soft
and silent fields
meadows open for grazing
(guineas scamper across the till)
pocket apples fill
the country ripe air
drunken bees
and chestnuts
and electric fingers
strike the surface pool
(a cedar strip wedged on the white wash dock)
baited bull heads set to cast
evenings with hearts
and Nolten Nash
may flowers bloom
across the grass
~ time unmatched ~
with blue jays
and river bends
and channel cats
...and that warm
and recurring
Coleman drift
May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 11:36 PM UTC
Goats eat and **** the grass of ramparts,
stupefied cannons sit, garrisoned sentries
primed for nights of buccaneers,
seared by centuries of sun. Down shadowed
cobblestoned ramps, fortified shutters
covet rifle forend and barrel,
wresting rumored slave rebellions
from the locker of history,
while languid waves whisper indifferently
a roll call of human cargo,
chattel displaced, cast to the sea.
Here history sways to sounds
of brown skinned children
at play in breakers,
laughing, shrieking, thrashing,
buoyed by time to this vaulted brick
reverberating chamber,
here a window’s light is cast
beckoning vision past the beach,
to seek the horizon Icarus like,
to fly towards beauty in terror where
an azure sky conjoins a turquoise bay.
Copyright © 2003 Gary Brocks
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 5:14 AM UTC
drenched in a sea of waveforms,
dancing on the ebb of a digital ocean
its crests crowned with sound
pitched upon amplitude tides
their volume compressed;
reverberating through glass speakers
mere dots in the sands
i hear cadence...
within the music of your speech
how can it be,
such a many word
written,
yet forgotten,
indelibly on your beach?
if we could interpret the oceans
what stories would its sea speak?
of its corruption?
treasures unreturned
to lost and found?
or of its time to give up the dead,
or of the angels that fell to its ground?
© Qwey.ku
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 5:42 AM UTC
breathing the turquoise like lavender,
and sipping the blue summer.
bitter cold clouds glide and morph lava lather,
floating whispers cut by sweet pineapple sunshine.
soon, a moment, now
rhythms ripple the sky like skipping stones
we jump the music like puddles
splashing in the frequencies.
cobalt bass rumbles the earth hungry,
pumps the air with springing spirals
pushing and pulling the senses,
reverberating through cells.
heavy mud humming, stomping
echoes through our atoms dizzy;
balancing tuned body to innate electricity
the fizz of circulating lemonade energy.
we jump the music like puddles
splashing in the frequencies.
strawberry melodies spilling ribbons,
dolphin leaps of the spaces inbetween beats,
lines of colours overlapping,
colliding, mixing, merging, blending
in with the forest.
washing over souls the life fire sparkles
like a clear water cleansing harmonies,
sound waves crashing against inertia.
phosphorescent glow of re-charged love
for the world, for being, animation
flowing through burnt smoky ashes
of sapphire charcoal skies;
dimmed radiation of chlorophyll emerald days.
the smell of salt, dry bark, fluffy carbon mists,
trembling lights softening the eyes'
grip on outlines, loosening lies.
watching the cycles of patterns
tumbling colours through a mill rotating,
and the silence of listening
when the music comes to an end.
May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 8:19 PM UTC
Eyes pierced by the night, reverberating in silence. Voices renounced by the wind. Standing at the shore of waves and storms, you surrender to the inevitable as the sun rises.
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 2:33 PM UTC
From the heavenly embers the phoenix rises.
It opened its scarlet eyes and saw the world blanketed in darkness.
Its cries reverberating in the dim valley, paternal love it sought.
Woe is the phoenix for not a creature came and all it did was for naught.
With tears in its eyes till sunrise it waited.
Filled with indignation the phoenix flew.
For it realized that as a newborn it was cheated.
With only the support of itself the phoenix grew.
Time passed peacefully in the valley.
The phoenix' wings have now grown fully.
Then the phoenix’ adventurous spirit was suddenly ignited.
With newfound courage the phoenix soared, clearly it is excited.
It was fearful yet ecstatic for the world full of the unknown.
The phoenix said farewell to the place it once had grown.
It desired to wander the world hoping to meet with its kin.
The phoenix is very lonely and hoping for one’s happiness isn’t a sin.
Many beasts quickly hid when they saw the phoenix near.
When they saw the flames blazing they can only shiver in fear
Sighing with regret for it wants to make a friend.
But fate has been cruel and fear was its desire’s end.
It traversed thousand of mountains
And experienced countless rains
It hoped and prayed fervently to the glorious entity above
To grant its wish, to experience love
To be continued...
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 2:12 AM UTC
I try to cry
but I can’t
I mute my tv
so I can hear
the pain reverberating
from my nostrils
like I am being
clamped together
in the fetal position
until blood squirts
out my ears
I try to cry
but I can’t
I mute the dog by
giving her a bone
I mute the sun by
drawing the shades
I try to cry
but I can’t
this muted pain
it’s locked in the attic
deteriorating
I mute my neck by
taping it to the fan
I mute my breath
with my belt
roll down my eye
to my lips
I want to taste
this ******* stupid world
for myself
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 3:36 PM UTC
Independent is the word they all use,
They tack it on me,
Let it hang a crooked ribbon.
Seeing all the things I already knew
Transcripted on the blanks of stacks of white and black,
Reverberating off chapped pink lips,
Takes me aback, shoves me into the corners of myself,
Tastes new like bird meat ****** off the bone tastes new.
I want to cut it up into little squares and abandon it in tupperware.
At least for a few days.
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 12:58 AM UTC
On a clear sky night
The sound of harmonica dancing
By the angles of the Moon
Drum pounds widespread
Waves floating in an ecstatic pace
The quiet bay listened with radiant Shells
Star specks lit sky humming
The Earth murmuring deeply
Pines reverberating in back chorus
Kids giggling around trippin' in thick dark
Tripping over some minor rocks, happy to
Embrace the unexpected music, dogs wiggling
Heavenly carousel shining upon their faces
Theater dreaming of the joyfull now
This exuberant laughter unsyncopated
Steps rhythm fading on their paths
Instruments put down, sounds of
Crickets, bare naked, two plunges
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 11:52 AM UTC
Be a voice; not an echo
somebody had written on the wall.
People are in love with echoes,
reverberating off walls of canyons,
in love with the sound
sounding off.
Nothing for me, they decide.
Nothing for the girl, lifting her hand
to caress the branches of trees
hanging overhead.
They want the familiar sounds
of girls
sounding off.
Oct 9, 2016
Oct 9, 2016 at 4:10 PM UTC
hope and expectation are at war
eternal conflict, reverberating endlessly
the struggle to know and the desire to want
seething within
tension breaks at the first word
marred with patience
quiet, silent, waiting
compassion resonates
kindness wanders silently
i am here
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 2:08 AM UTC
I fall to my knees,
Kneeling before you,
My Master,
Groveling at your glorious feet,
To reveal the chains of submission,
Weighing down my delicate form.
You gaze upon me,
Beholding soft skin shimmering,
As my body is folded over;
Viewing my tantalizing beauty,
As I bestow myself,
To fulfill your deepest desires,
Conjuring the darkest yearnings,
Manifesting within.
“Rise, Baby Girl’’,
Your deep voice commands,
Reverberating within this crimson colored chamber,
As your figure towers over me,
Beckoning my legs to stand,
Obliging to please you,
As my hazel eyes encounter,
The blazing intensity of your own,
Sending flames to burn,
Down to the small of my back.
Fear is the armor I allow to fall,
Tumbling to the ground,
Cloaking myself in trust,
As I allow my body to be,
Touched by dominant hands,
Trussed up by ropes and chains,
To restrain to me.
Willingly becoming prey,
To the sweet, antagonizing caress,
Before your hand aggressively strikes,
My behind,
Sending me into a realm,
Of pleasure and pain,
Morphing into one sensation.
Free is the response I experience,
As you bounds my wrists,
With your tie,
Pinning me down,
Straddling my body.
Placed between your thighs,
With your heated lips,
Conquering every inch of my body.
The Sting of the flogger,
Is a bite against the skin I crave,
As silence is the language,
I choose to speak,
Feeling your fingertips claim me,
As your territory to reign over,
As you please.
I yearn to satisfy the hunger,
Starving to be your nourishment;
For Sadism to feed,
Upon masochism,
As a balance of power is established,
As we lose ourselves in fiery passion.
Dominance and Submission,
Forces meant to bond to the other,
In a marriage of infliction and reception,
Of blissful agony,
Accepting the temptations you direct,
Towards me as guide,
To obtain our darkest of fantasies.
Submission speaks out within,
The silence as I give you,
A proffered hand,
Succumbing to the sensual dreams,
You promise to me,
Allowing you to possess me in any way,
You wish in accordance to our terms.
May you indulge upon my form,
Like decadent candy you crave,
To devour,
Savoring every taste,
Sound, smell, and touch,
In this licentious dance between you,
My Master,
And me, your fervent lady,
Of submission.
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 5:18 PM UTC
In pursuit of an elusive harmony
summer nights rolled away from us
reverberating into a numinous bass line
while reconciling our dreams
with a burgeoning truth
Flustered with desire
and walking in a non-ordinary reality. Lost within the Source
of all there is and ever was. We re-animated
navigating through portals unexplained
to retrieve this love
We plied our differences into commonality
and re-aligned our fractured selves using the agency
of synchronicity - having found
an immutable archetypal truth
and having found from where our self-portraits flow
Much more than soul mates, Plato
offers stories of Zeus splitting souls in half
as punishment for pride.
In this incarnation, have we found humility?
Will this be enough to carry us back to nobility?
It is challenging to find your way back
into a lover's arms. Mistakes haunt us eternally (if we allow for that)
but every morning if we awake
and let go, using the suns setting and rising as a reminder that
with experience, guidance, and repetition ... it gets easier
My half soul
awoke as my mortality decomposed
when half becomes one, then the real turmoil begins
from the shores of St. Mary, Raven calls
and I follow my destiny into an Obsidian Night
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 4:39 AM UTC
*Hungered for a taste
of your elixir's essence,
drunken inhalations
of your poetry
a splendiferous whirl
of time & space 'tween
darkly scented moons
and sun's adoration,
blithe starry nights
amidst meditative new
dawn's effervesce,
spirited of the heart,
gleaned in the soul,
yearnings of another
chapter's paradise
universal experiences
etched of hourglass sand,
written upon endlessly
chimerical verses
wildflower gardens drenched
of dandelion's plum wine
swooning under a
hypnotic scripted spell,
intoxicating power
of unchained symphonies
dancing amongst skies'
released euphoria
resonating in a song's
reprised melodies,
breathlessness of delirium's
celestial pauses
in vaporous breezes'
unfurling undulation,
captivated by rhythmic
destiny reverberating in
loins' pleasurable calling
quenched of sacred
offering's quell
transcending earthly
persuasions' rhyme,
let me lick the nectar from
your poesy's insatiable lips,
sweet mercy's healing
captured in rapturous
surrender's reawakening ~*
*Je veux que vous tous,
tu me manques*
Ce que vous manquez de moi?
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 12:05 AM UTC
idle, shiftless, indolent
not a care in the world
a white oblivion
of simple, peaceful, blissful
nothing
looming, threatening, impending
charged with energy
electricity just
hours away
gray consciousness
and lazy days
hair-raising, spine-chilling, nerve-racking
strikes of pure shock
mother nature’s roars
reverberating off the blackened firmament
drops of liquid vigor
crashing to the ground
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC
She looks up at me with her heart in her eyes
Her entire body reverberating with her hunger
Her hand trembles as she touches my leg
Her lips part in a gasp as she touches the object of her need
Her eyes glazed with lust as she leans forward
Now her entire frame trembles with her ache
She starts to move in an unspoken request
She gets a fevered light in her eyes as I make her wait
She whimpers and looks back into my eyes
She nods at the unspoken question
She looks at me with her heart in her eyes
She submits
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 10:45 AM UTC
If my love was personified as my hustle
I’d take you into my heart and never let you go.
I’d cling tight onto you and no matter how hard you fought
I wouldn’t let go
I’d let you know
You. Are. mine
No one elses
Your home is hear
Listen
to the beat reverberating through my chest
Cavity
Rotting me from the inside
You’d make me blind
Like an error
my mind
I wouldn’t understand how you infiltrated my veins
I’d kiss you like you were my forever
Love you in pure desperation
Because my present without you is bleak
At best I know that if I blink
the moment could pass
A risk I can’t take
Won’t
Never
Losing wouldn’t be an option
You would be my dream
you
the very earth that I walk on
The pillow I lay down on
I’d lay down
What ever I would have to
To make you my reality
I would blindly dive into the opportunity
to make my dreams come true
THEY wouldn’t deter me
I don’t need their
approval
permission
opinion
Not to love you
Because the core of me would want you
And the lack of THEM understanding my vision
Means that I’m about to make history
If my love was my hustle
We’d never end
You would be my dreams
And without you I would be nothing
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 2:06 AM UTC
I saw someone, two grades older than me in the halls with a purple shirt.
He was tall and had a huge grin and a loud laugh.
I heard the boy in the purple shirt had an B in Spanish
And a D in chemistry
And an A in foreplay.
I thought maybe he's had more than one girlfriend in the past few weeks.
At school he tells me he likes my shirt. Then turns around and tells another girl he likes her ***
I realized then I wanted to be him. Because the girl was probably going to **** him, and not me.
What does he have that I don't.
Chin fuzz, a reverberating voice, broad shoulders, a ****
That night I did one hundred push ups. That night I cried for one hundred minutes.
And slept for what seemed like one hundred hours.
When my morning comes my chest aches. When my morning comes my chest is still chesty.
When his morning comes his chest is occupied by a girl's head.
When his morning comes he let's go of a morning *** on his purple shirt.
On his purple sheets.
On the girl's purple cheeks.
He remembers someone, she is two grades younger than him.
She is small and has sad lips and a quiet sigh.
She has an F in math, and an F in history, and an F in foreplay.
He told her he liked her shirt, because he really did, because it wasn't purple, because it wasn't his, because it made her look strong. It made her look like a man. He then realized that he liked the color blue better, and liked the way it looked on her.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 9:33 PM UTC
tug on your heartstrings,
remember what it is
to be human and
to feel.
nothing is more resonant
than a reverberating vibration
of positivity, in sorrow and in joy.
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 6:47 AM UTC
A futile battle enmeshed
Overpowering emotions struggle to stay afloat
Heaving a deep breath I sink in
Isolated in my despair
Sliced through bone and marrow
Pain wrenches my soul, vice in its hold
A fragrance wafts in
Electrifying my soul
Reverberating memories explode
Bursting to surface
Tender moments, the story of a heaped up soul
In every cell of my being I feel you
Emanating exuding your deep truth
Your touch like butterflies
Transcendental your love
Rewinding reel by reel
The story of an unsaid love
I see you close, though I bear you not
My heart lost inside your soul
Irreplaceable the magic
Weaved by those deep emerald embers
Wants each moment to unfold
I ease back and surrender once again
To the assurance of this bliss
Entrenched deeply in this moment
Serenity shrouds a warm blanket
Intense emotions lay calm, spent
My soul in glorious serenity elevates
You are undeniably a part of me
My paragon, my serenity
Issue forth bright light, vibrant colors
Adorn the deep dark night sky
Your love a painting a million hues
Panoramic and divine.
I LOVE YOU....
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 1:06 AM UTC
I need a hug,
but not a quick,
lazy hug
during which the touch feels like less of a comforting gesture,
but more of an awkward happening
with limp arms hanging like gigantic weights,
pulling you into the floor.
Not one where you aren't ever really sure if you should hang on
for just a moment more,
or if you should let go,
and release into an uncomfortable silence
that lasts until someone coughs hesitantly.
The sound reverberating through the atomosphere,
leaving a heavy draft of atypical embarrassment at the contact,
waiting for someone else to bring up some random topic of discussion
to break the icy and heavy silence.
No.
I need a real hug.
The kind where someone who loves you see your pain
even though you might not say anything.
Reading the waters behind your smiling eyes,
seeing the hidden hurt behind your irises,
they grab you,
perhaps by your slightly shacking shoulders,
and pull you into their warm encasement.
Holding you tightly
and safely
in their care.
And the two of you just hang onto this affectionate moment
of profound concern among brethren of a species
The kind where time seems to stop
in admiration of this subtle outpouring of unified allegiance
before which the universe bows.
I need the kind of hug that demonstrates a fierce loyalty.
Devotion that knows
should the object of such intense friendship fall into the pit,
from whence none return unscathed in some way,
they will throw down a rope
a foothold
a salvation,
and they will pull that person from the depths of the darkness
maybe even at the risk of falling in themselves.
Yes.
That is the kind of esoteric gesture
that can be so impactful on those in pain,
regardless of whether that pain be great or small.
And should you find that you receive love like that,
treasure it.
And should you find that you give love like that,
never forget how special and rare someone like you is.
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 8:20 PM UTC
Once upon a time, Oh but that’s such a boring way to start-
Once upon a time.
I was little red riding hood that knowingly stepped
onto the wrong side of the path,
Hoping that a monster in the woods
would come and get me, but you-
A hurricane,
car crashes in slow motion,
personified heartbreak-
Too much.
Too much applesauce madam? The waiter asked, clean-shaven face bathed
In the New York skyline, ignorant to the gunfire explosions
inside me as I waited for you.
No thank you, sir.
“Meet me at the station”,
scrawled in messy, love- stained letters
In between the railway roars and the clatters of foreign accent, you've flaked again, like the struck chord of a bass
Signifying disappointment like a punch line
Reverberating through my skull.
Okay, repeat the mantra, one-two-steady-
Okay. It's Okay.
Four weeks later
I had your body pushed up flush against bricks and-
No shut up you don’t get to say anything after you go and shatter me like that
You’re sick do you know that? Lips snarling, heart breaking.
You’re sick.
So maybe I was the big bad wolf after all.
Stairwell bricks glinted off iridescence and
your mouth in that sad, sad laugh
Studying me like a dream brought
to the ground,
Puffy lipped and eyes blown wide like I was on some psychedelic high-
And you said
*“You’re still a child with fanciful ideas of love, and the way you cling onto them-
Quite frankly, it’s terrifying.”*
Please darling, let me redefine myself
Skip the pleasantries and small talk,
scrap the story of little red riding hood-
Once upon a time, I was apology and you were forgiveness
I can imagine inside you, of alarm bells and sunken souls
as you listen to the static white noise of
A dying heart
Hello darling, are you there? Can you hear me? Is this mic working?
I hate to sound like those magazine cut outs-
I hate to sound like,
Just another lover, just another cliché-
But you were the matchstick to my dynamite
and nothing feels better
Than my own self- destruction, so won’t you please
Another chance? No?
Even Lucifer sometimes longs to be let
Into the gates of heaven again
I’ve cooked some apology,
I saved a plate for you
So for the love of god come inside and have some before it goes cold.
Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 5:04 AM UTC
*Cimmerian Chaos, incediary
The Requiem of the Revenant:
Tis I,
The Breathing Song
Conjuring a vestige,
Ensorcelled by what I'd been envisaging.
Maimed by Tempus, The Temporal Arbiter
Words reverberating on the wavelength of my soul
Left me vibrating desolate and wayworn.
Utterances deluging me in the Dominion of Doubt
Until I reached a crossroads
For perilous was the pilgrimage I peregrinated.
The Penultimate Tribulation has begun
And though angst is festering in my flesh,
The Sacred Lotus of Dreams has not wilted,
Shalt it ever upon the Lake of the Holy Oracle;
Elysium of the Soul is awaiting those who are stalwart
In the Visage of the Shadows.*
∞Hallelujah∞
By Sanders M. Foulke III
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 5:32 AM UTC
i want you to remind me
how the moon and the stars above
glance and hides how shy they were
whenever your voice soothes the trees and living creatures, reverberating the paradox of joy and sadness in your giggle
i want you to remind me
how the ends will never be the means of loving and that saturating my soul with your presence is more than i could ever receive, a reality unmet with circumstances of chains upon ourselves
i want you to remind me
how long it would take to consume the universe on your palm or the life in one single breath, or the night with a hymn that lights up my way home
i want you to remind me
of remembering goodbyes and hellos
the mellow sound of now and the agonizing tomorrow swifting its way to uncanny sound of laughter and sniffed tears
i want you to remind me
that there are more to life than we ever thought of: death, absence, nothingness
i want you to remind me
that i could always see the mirror of myself in your brushed short hair, chapped lips and past you never left behind, just the like the songs i've made to remind how unusual semblance of people unites hearts and eventually tear them apart
i want you to remind me
of the days where i loved deeply and without hesitation or fear of falling behind or the anxiety of losing what i never had in the first place
i want you to remind me of the days like this
where the smile in my face meant the world, home, and happiness from your single hello or the way you tilt your head and stare and smile and laugh or when your cheeks blush and swims together with the universe in your eyes and the waters deeply engraved in your fingers how the waves strum the music in your spirit and soul
how i want you to remember,
the way i will remind you:
i will remind you of how i love seeing you mess around and make everyone happy, your vain and cuddly smile behind the tint of the sun, along the banquets of academics and artists
i will remind you of how assured i was that you were whom i prayed for to a nonexistent deity of the wind and beauty; how i wished to feel its rush as i roam around, and steep-down the wheels, continuously weighing down unafraid of a valley of morality and questions
i will remind you of the philosophy of the meaninglessness of existence and how life was never the meaning but pain of waiting for death; you made it bearable and the ample grace of your heart is what i'll keep to my future journeys of seeking what i would trade for life itself enduring the morning commutes and cruelty of mischievous eyes
i will remind you of the day i saw you, and how tall you stand as me or how shy i was whenever i was in front of the crowd, but most of the time you give me the strenght to brush off what everyone would say
i will remind you of the day, and the days to come
i will not ask for more or less, it will be enough, and i hope with that, i will be enough, and i, hope you would always remind me #
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 3:35 AM UTC