"roamed" poems
You don't know me
The places I wanna see
The things I want to know
What I want to be told
No, you don't know me
You can't hold me
Or tell me everything's alright
When I know you hold her
Like you used to hold me
You tell her she's made of gold
You know her favorite food, her favorite dress
And all the other things
That you don't know about me
I know you've memorized
Her face, Her voice
Yet when you turn around
Can you even remember my name?
I guess it's too much to ask
For redamancy these days
As loyalty has gone out the window
A word of the past
But you used to tell me
That I was made of gold
And that in your arms
I was only yours to hold
But your hands have roamed
So far away from me
And it's not fair
To make me watch
As you do with her
All you did with me
We used to talk about the future
But in a single heartbeat
You have changed our destiny
All those words of yours
Come back and haunt me
Everytime you called me beautiful,
Was it just practice for telling her?
Well you were right about one thing
I am made of gold
And that girl of yours
No matter how much you try
To mold her into me
She will only ever be pyrite
Just a cheap imitation
Of the treasure you will never hold
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 10:25 PM UTC
Heard a beeping sound
Followed by A very old Frank Sinatra’s song
My classmates’ heads turned
Who’s phone? who’s phone?
Less chaotic when the teacher glared
Everybody put their heads down
And checked their sophisticated mobile phones
Once again...
When the teacher wasn’t looking..
Mobile phones roamed in a dull classroom
Updating facebook status,
Uploading candid photos of a snoring friend
Copy pasting assignment
Text messaging and gossiping about their stern looking teacher
In the name of advanced technology
Mobile smartphones create the impossibles...
Beyond the blackboard and the four walls of the classroom
O o Frank Sinatra’s song again...
And everybody started looking...
The teacher grabbed her mobile phone
Tried to switch it off....
When students could own smartphones..
Who needs NOKIA from the old time zone....?
~ Sharina~
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 4:26 AM UTC
*Before I thought of doing it
My neck cradles itself sidewards
A strange glimpse
Stood out with radiance
And I knew it was different*
*I catch myself looking at you from afar
Your eyes meet mine
Is it just coincidence
Or an accident that happens too often*?
*Our glances hold messages
Of undefined feelings
Words become fathomless
For our eyes manifest*.
*Your eyes wandered through the crowd
And mine roamed around
We both know
This is just an excuse, a distraction
Not to seem obvious...
Until they locked
And I swear I won't let this moment pass*
*Oh, your eyes
Inviting me to see
Bidding me to come closer
Wanting to let me know you deeper*.
*I'd look at them all day of course;
Because of all the eyes staring
I only care for yours*.
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 8:38 AM UTC
I am Viking
A Thousand Years Ago,
three Gods ran rampant,
pulsing,
through my veins.
Odin, Thor, and Loki
were the blood that hammered through my heart.
Throughout the World
I ***** and pillaged,
killed, and took
all that could be mine.
I was not afraid to die,
and more,
I was not afraid to live.
I am Viking.
A thousand years ago.
Everywhere in the known world
I roamed, and beyond,
and everywhere I conquered.
Everywhere I stayed,
and stood,
with my blue eyes shining,
and became
all that was around me.
I am Viking
A thousand years ago.
And now I am here.
I am peaceful, gentle,
and I am shining.
I learned my lessons well
in a thousand years or so.
But I must warn you.
Be careful,
Do not abuse me.
Deep within my heart and soul,
Odin, Thor, and Loki
still lie sleeping.
and I am Viking
from a thousand years ago.
I am Viking.
A thousand years ago.
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 8:37 PM UTC
The evolution of art never halts
Once we began dancing around fire
Our feet couldn't stop
A place in our lives
Where our subpar seeds
Could be seen as glowing trees
That's the way I feel about my poetry
It reminds me a lot of me
I reread it and rewrite it so often
By the end it seems unoriginal and plain
And all I can hope
Is the themes and ideas that were the inspirational genesis
Remain intact
Art walks a tightrope over the most unpredictable factor
The audience
They are the other half of art
Their power cannot be overstated
And as time progresses
Their power grows
And the importance of art always extends an equal distance
But the stronger art becomes
The more it asks of it's audience
In many cases
The audience is not ready to take the call
This is one of those times
Here at the current pinnacle of art
Surfing the web
A wonderful chance as
Art is a reflection of people and society
The Internet is people and society
But just as we listen to songs
To decide what concert to go to
Or watch trailers
To decide what movie to see
We like what we like
And put blinders on to find it
Like moths to fire
We could do amazing things
If we could harness the potential
Of our collective conscious
But the threat of losing our individuality
Is too great for us
Unable to accept
Our individuality is always in the context of our cosmic existence
We are part of something greater
And we can't escape that
Even in death
We feed what lies beneath
The memory of our lives
Shrinks to obscurity
The maggots that cover our corpses
Flourish to maturity
Everything this world creates is art
And we are it's most complex creation
Not necessarily the best
We just have the most parts
And the maggots that use our dead bodies for sustenance
Were once the monsters that roamed this Earth
They had no nationality
Or political affiliations
Or religion
And they're still here
Waiting to reclaim their throne
Once "smarter" species seek suicide
Jul 26, 2017
Jul 26, 2017 at 10:19 PM UTC
I do not want to feel the pain of missing you.
I don't want to walk to the end of my street without a hand to hold, and I don't want to stare at sunsets alone.
I don't want to sit next to an empty swing at the parks we roamed, and I don't want to only bid you goodnight through meaningless letters.
I don't wish to seek the comfort you bring, and the dull ache that follows when you can't. I don't wish to be so dependent on your presence.
I do not want to love you in the way not spending time with you stakes me.
But I still love you in the way missing you means ultimate sadness.
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 7:29 AM UTC
I am building
Building a home
Return here after
After you've roamed
And back into
Into my arms.
I am building
Building a life
A getaway from
From your strife
To make what's
What's wrong right
I am building
Building a family
A place for you
You and me
Where we may live
Life life freely.
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 10:04 PM UTC
It's very late in the evening
sun is going down
night is young
Among the crowd
I see you
watching the southern eclipse
Pour out your heart to me
Secure all that you need
reassure for today
Temperature is hot
Southern eclipse
I open my mind
to see what I find
Among the crowd
I see you
It's you who I want
I've roamed the world
looking for you
You have cleared my mind
I pour out my love
for you, for you
Ashore I'm waiting for you
southern eclipse
southern eclipse
I can face another day
because of you
your embrace is warm
No one can take your place
Southern eclipse,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 4:05 PM UTC
She lines up, a lamb to the slaughter!
This girl, is someones daughter!
I cant help, the thoughts in my head!
My needs win! They wipe out the Dread!
I kiss deep, Her flesh is my feast!
Instincs reap, As man Becomes Beast!
Clothes rip, She begs me for more!
I breathe deep, The scent of a *****
Who sins worse? The lion or the lamb!
The beast knows that the lambs roamed the lands!
My thoughts scream,"this is not what you wanted!"
Its too late! The Beast has been taunted!
You know this story! You've lived it before!
You always wanted to settle the score!
She hurt you first but now you hear laughter!
You just destroyed! Your last EVER AFTER!
Dec 7, 2011
Dec 7, 2011 at 2:23 PM UTC
[From Fragments, The Following...]
... so it was that the Urth bled less. The Birch Moot was becalmed by the Anvil Cloud of Impending Deluge.
The Young Gods made sport of Their Names, and aimed to Oblique the colony of clever flesh
groping at the tender roots of an insipid devastation. The First Ones had vanished.
But Time was born and the Mortal Whirl released the Hounds of Change. Transition fused -
with the Eternal; and the offspring of unloved Spirits, roamed the Tangible. All Suffering was amplified
in the diamond lungs of a divine corpse, dreaming.
... for when the iron heart of The Cast Out was retrieved, the Legion of Heaven poured unseemly Grace upon the Fathoms
and the High King of Doubt, forced his blade ' Nimue '
into the soft palette, of the First Mouth. The Stars were born and The Void overheard the First Naming.
A solid drizzle of enchantment cloaked the oaken Yggdrasil
and The Pattern unleashed the folly of Pattern
to mask the virtue of succinct Chaos. The Children of The Lower Sky ate their Masters and thereby swollen -
gathered in the underbrush of the Fecund.
They came to Know Regret by Answering Prayers. The Kingdoms of Wane were waning in the fearsome riot of Creation
and not a boy, a man from no woman
and no woman
a man.
... the siege lights of the petty stars, babbled in the wake of yawning eruption and nullification. the ****** theater of blood
was made Holy by way of forcing camels into eyes of needles in constant dystopian joy.
... and that's how the rain gets in.
[ From the ' Kingdoms Of Wane ', a Lost Tome from Antiquity and Dada ]
What ?
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 7:07 PM UTC
Hear ye, hear ye
hearken from the medieval times of old
where knights in the round once roamed
jousting with deeds fought in truth and honor
to protect the weak, the helpless, the oppressed
with an ideology lurking since the dawn of time
that all are born free, unshackled from contrived ordeals
only to soar high with the eagles to become one with the heavens
and bask in the glory of serving the frailty and holiness of mankind
Hear ye, hear ye
it’s Merlin conjuring a magical spell for the spirit
to behold, to marvel, new stages of self-enlightenment
where the essence of the King invades sleeping visions
possibly foretelling ominous events awaiting new missions
or predestined journeys one must endure to become so bold
in knowledge and wisdom offered, living in this world’s mold
not necessarily realized, instead shrouded with unimpeded urges
akin to the signs found in youth, immaturity, the close-minded
Hear ye, hear ye
the quest to sip from the Carpenter’s silver chalice
and taste charitable love for family, friends, and foes
where reckless pride and hatred are speared with the arrow
forged in devotion of a noble belief, tempered with selfless feats
where the sun rises and sets on the wicked actions of human nature
slaughtering the divine lights prematurely, locked within many souls
yet crusades against evil continues, no retreat, no regrets, no surrender
price to uphold the spirit of Camelot, payment in full, services rendered.
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 1:36 AM UTC
I am a grounded explorer:
I dream of travelling the stars,
but alas there are few tickets to even Mars.
I romanticize the explorers of yor,
who roamed the oceans to explore.
Oh to be with Captains Lewis and Clark,
an expedition through the wilderness to embark!
The maps are made and the earth is mapped;
The Final Frontier is barely unwrapped.
It is not a do-it-yourself sort of thing,
I cannot just into space my body fling.
To explore the unknown would yield such glee,
But I console myself: at least the world's new to me.
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 6:03 PM UTC
I wake up every morning
To nothing
I am alone
I only see to where my light reaches
I see nothing except my drum
I grab the drum
And play the same beat
I played yesterday
And the day before
What was an energetic beat
Changed to melancholic
Yearning for someone else
I hope someone would hear it
And just sit with me
Sooth my loneliness
I go back to sleep again.
We wake up every morning
To nothing
We are many
We only see to where our light reaches
We see nothing except each other
We hear the sound of the drums
Play the same tone
As yesterday
And the day before
What was a beat that energized us
Made us melancholic
Many set out
To find the sound
But none have returned
Demons roamed the darkness
We eventually gave up.
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 2:40 PM UTC
the hundred year old stairs
wakes up from its dreamless slumber
to find the world has spun
for an infinity too long
it once roamed
and ruled
the household of Chathanathodi
making way to the rooms
upstairs
that conspired a thousand
whispered secrets
simultaneously
sprawling its termite-infested legs
to make way
downstairs
that injected an aura of
omnipotence
its laddery body was now a little chipped
and its creaky joints, a little shaky
but it didn't matter
as it was still conspicuous
and strong
like Hercules
leading unsuspecting mortals
upstairs and downstairs
to its universe of Gods
Shalini Nayar
© 2001
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 9:46 AM UTC
I woke up in a wall-ball court
underneath the Arizona sun.
I was homeless and broke,
hundreds of miles away from where I begun.
No food to eat. No water to drink
which is a death sentence in that kind of heat.
Just ***** clothes, an empty wallet
and my heartbeat.
It was a quest of love that brought me here.
A short, hispanic woman with red hair.
She was the person I meant when I said "dear"
Honestly, I would have done anything for her on a dare.
Even though being with her made me want to disappear,
when I was without her I was living in despair.
I got off the sweaty concrete
and marched back to the house of cards
we called a home.
I found the apartment
absent of her presence
so to the streets I roamed.
Nothing in my body
but heat cramps and passion
I searched over and under
the whole **** desert I must have combed.
I found her in the same spot we separated from
smoking a cigarette, I think it was a #27.
Laughing and reading but emotionally numb
to my exhaustion. I just turned and walked away ashamed of the man I had become.
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 4:47 AM UTC
Don't you fall asleep.
Don't you dream too deep.
Before i come home.
Trying to find way home i have roamed.
To kiss you goodnight.
And hold you tight.
Jan 12, 2011
Jan 12, 2011 at 8:33 AM UTC
NOTE - The largest animal in Great Britain, a red stag named Emperor who stood over 9ft tall, was last night shot dead by a trophy hunter. The antlers of the majestic deer are highly prized, and after pictures of the stag appeared in the national press last week, the animal was tracked and killed in Exmoor, Devon.
These mist covered mountains of the highlands,
‘twas here that I once freely wandered upon nature’s pasture grounds,
Now I lie shrouded in the mournful fog of the lowlands,
‘twas here that I was met by a pack of bone breaking hounds.
The fresh dew upon the harvest of autumn’s final flowering,
‘twas here that I chewed the grass of sweet nature’s offering,
Now I grow cold upon the ground where I was stalked by dark doom,
‘twas here that I left life’s rocky way under a hunter’s moon.
The air of the early morn moor with the sky above my dome,
‘twas here that I ran and with joy loved and royally roamed,
Now my legs will nevermore click or clack over my domain fenced with tree gates,
‘twas here that I wooed and won my shy majestic mate.
She, my queen of the green woodlands, she was my wife and my empire,
‘twas here that we romanced in the fading summer’s fire,
Our charming child, my princess of these grassy hills now cloaked in shade,
‘twas here that she saw her father the monarch in death finally fade.
In the chorus of the dancing dawn awakening upon the horizon’s golden rhyme,
‘twas here that I sang the tune that will drum till the end of nature’s time,
They will come with stakes and wood and cross and bow me to the beams,
‘twas here where they hacked and tore off my enchanted crown of weeping dreams.
The scent of the freshly mown grass mingles with the green pine,
‘twas here that I drank the perfume and nectar of the divine,
My eyes glaze, my breathing falters, my clay chills, my soul no more sings,
‘twas here that I finally returned to the hands of my Beloved, the eternal King.
*"...I shall now graze upon the sacred acres of my Creator,
I shall frolic and run free in the tender fields of endless splendour..."*
©Rangzeb Hussain
Oct 27, 2010
Oct 27, 2010 at 3:08 AM UTC
city in ruins
acid green night sky
flames in skyscraper windows
the flakes of ashes
filtering the staunch air
if you breathe in you can
taste the souls of the dearly
& painfully departed
I roamed the underground
silent subway system
in search of an easy ****
long black coat trailing my
fast-paced footfalls
dried blood smeared on a
restroom door
the smell no longer made
me sick
I throw it open
& step inside
the room reeked of
sweat and vile
death
the hair rose on my skin
as I faced the mirror
to greet my weary, shadowy-eyed
reflection
it was then that I saw the
pair of yellow eyes
watching me
& before either of us
could blink
I hurled my dagger at
the corner ceiling above the
empty stalls
spearing the small winged
demon
it fell to the floor in a heap
of rotting dust
there was no time for me
to react
when a figure burst through
the doorway
a dark-skinned girl with
long braids
who didn't catch my gaze
as she slammed her
purse on the filthy counter top
& began to apply her
makeup
"What are you doing here?"
I asked the young woman
stunned at her nonchalance
she never once stopped
moving the pink brush against
her skin
"Gotta go to work,"
she said briskly
as if the whole doomsday planet
was a waste of her
time
I had forgotten there were still
people living in
hell
who bothered to look
pretty
I said no more
& went on my
way
May 21, 2012
May 21, 2012 at 5:27 PM UTC
Soccer season arrives, you’re excited until you start waking up at 6:30 a.m. every day during the summer. As the first game is on, you arrive expecting to play just to realize you’re warming up the bench. It’s not a big deal, it’s still August and it’s easier to tan while sitting down. It isn’t until you’re laying there camouflaging between the soccer bags; laying like a lizard taking the sun in that your coach yells for you to jump in. You scramble up and trip between bags and ***** making your way to the sideline. You do the final stretches and make your way in awkwardly lifting your hand to high-five your teammate coming out who misses it completely. Then it’s game on, it is time to start playing. But that is not how it goes. 15 minutes into the game you realize you have roamed the same 15 square foot area all this time. I got the ball once, I controlled it on my feet. Yeah, I know. Unfortunately when I turned the ball found it’s way between my legs and fell into the opposite player. ****** I’m getting a good tan though; I think I was supposed to get that pass, I slowly jog towards it. Should I? Well now the ball is gone. Let’s go back to my 15 square foot area; my legs are tired. I see the ball coming from up in the air, I’ve never done this. I’m running, just keep running. No, that’s the sun not the ball. There’s the ball, jump, jump. jump. I jump and a 200 pound guy crashes with me, I’m on the floor. Done.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 2:48 PM UTC
*People call this place hell
But if it is
Everything I do I do well
Cause baby I was hades
Powerful enough to quell
All kinds of men and ladies
Like a God of the underworld
For I roamed this places
Like an innocent young girl
I had many faces*
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 9:57 PM UTC
In tales of old, on Mount Olympus high,
Where gods and goddesses roamed the sky,
Aphrodite, fair and beauty's muse,
But whispers tell of a love confused.
In affairs of hearts, her charms renowned,
Yet rumors spread, a deceit profound.
Her love, a tapestry woven with desire,
Yet secrets whispered, fueled the fire.
A cheater in the game of divine affection,
Her heart's allegiance sparked introspection.
For Cupid's arrows, not always true,
In love's labyrinth, confusion grew.
To Ares, god of war, she turned her gaze,
A clandestine affair, a dangerous craze.
In the shadows of Mount Olympus, they conspired,
Love's flame illicit, yet never tired.
The gods above, in their celestial court,
Witnessed Aphrodite's love distort.
For in her quest for passion's sweet embrace,
She left behind a trail of love's disgrace.
But was she a cheater or victim of fate?
In the realm of gods, emotions intricate.
Aphrodite, tangled in love's intricate dance,
A celestial romance, a fateful circumstance.
So, in the pantheon's tales of divine deceit,
Aphrodite's story, in whispers, we repeat.
A goddess of love, entangled in desire,
A cheater or not, the myths conspire.
Dec 2, 2023
Dec 2, 2023 at 10:52 AM UTC
If I were a child again
I would have played more
Made friends lot more
Read and drew more
If I were a child again
I would have got wet in the rain
I would have played in the muddy puddles
Without the fear of getting my dress *****
If I were a child again
I would have played with my siblings more
Would have loved my elders and parents more
Would have cherished every second I spend with them.
If I were a child again
I would love to climb up the trees
Jumped into the ponds and stayed there
Till I got bored with playing in the water.
If I were a child again,
I would have loved to learn music
Learned all the beautiful languages
Paint all the beautiful times of my childhood.
If I were a child again
I would have roamed free
Hiking the mountains
Walking the forest trails
If I were a child again
I will never want to grow up
And away from the childhood memories
Thanks to my parents, brothers, sister, and relatives
Who made it so beautiful
I would love to relive it again and again.
Nov 14, 2019
Nov 14, 2019 at 7:23 AM UTC
‘Tis your pennies that make me pound,
Like a shepherd mourning his fallen hound ,
Such is the death of my drunken pride ,
That makes winter , a poet’s bride .
‘Tis your comfort , I wish to skin,
And the game of chance , that scripted your win,
Such is the shine of a tanner’s hide,
That make’s winter , a poet’s bride .
‘Twas your charity that made me wait,
On the doorsteps of your divine’s hate ,
Such are the Churches I laid aside ,
To make winter, the Poet’s bride .
Realization Strikes
I can’t rhyme my way to the kingdom of warmth
But I can roam the streets ,
Like I always did ,
In search of warmth
And Roam I did
I roamed that Street ,
Where the City pretends to be what its not .
I roamed those Hearts who call that Street,
Home of their Christmas thought .
I roamed it all ,
Till the fairy lights were there to help me see ,
But Alas ,
I found no warmth where they promised it would always be ,
But Instead ,
Not Far away from the echoes of the city making merry .
I found an abandoned cemetery,
And in the Sea of unmarked graves,
I heard the voices of forgotten braves;
And So,
I learnt the art , Of braving the Chill,
Without a survivor’s iron will .
I learnt to sleep without a care ,
And immune I became to winter’s nightmare .
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 11:39 AM UTC
Coarse and rough,pure and true
You are my angel of a nascent hue
Far away the rain clouds lay
Begging to meet my angel each day!
You are shy,veiled in a shroud,you are
Cozy,warm and safe with your lover,the Star
You say,you forgot me,so soon,I hear?
Is it because behind your back I disappeared?
I thought without me,you'd be in gloom
Remember,how,in your soundless cacophony,I swooned?
You ignited my heart,gave life to me
In your sandy storms,you entwined me,to set me free
I roamed,in love with you,in old directions,anew
Now,the storms are raging,the knights banter and look for you
Stay back,my angel,shy,behind the rocks where you grew
Let the thunder clouds darken around you
Protect your lovers,like and me and some others,few
Illusive and Elusive,you play games with me
Cajoling my feelings,and bringing me down to my knees
****** and lascivious,you don't disappoint
My savior,my sins and sorrows,you anoint
Winds of insanity rove around you,my eyes they enter
I cry,it's sand,worthless to all but me,soft and tender
I can't go on quenched of thirst and thought
I fall broken,crushed,will I be besought?
Care for the others,with you,I left,please
My guardian,my desert,hide forever with me in the shadow of bliss.
Apr 29, 2012
Apr 29, 2012 at 5:11 AM UTC