"rythmic" poems
Within the fields of grace
and moving waltzing wheat fields
moves the spotted feline with pace
black tears run down its face and yields
to the sun's tangerine gaze
The rythmic thomping of paws through grass
with undivided focus so clear
every step as fragile as glass
sounds perilous behind this feeble deer
Colossal strides that fly through air
pefected anatomy claws down its goal
rules of nature have never been fair
but one must know the key is survival
this deer now knows its fatal fate
is nature's gift to the cheetah's plate.
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 2:42 PM UTC
Sunday, I am eating a
grapefruit, church is over at the Russian
Orthadox to the
west.
she is dark
of Eastern descent,
large brown eyes look up from the Bible
then down. a small red and black
Bible, and as she reads
her legs keep moving, moving,
she is doing a slow rythmic dance
reading the Bible. . .
long gold earrings;
2 gold bracelets on each arm,
and it's a mini-suit, I suppose,
the cloth hugs her body,
the lightest of tans is that cloth,
she twists this way and that,
long yellow legs warm in the sun. . .
there is no escaping her being
there is no desire to. . .
my radio is playing symphonic music
that she cannot hear
but her movements coincide exactly
to the rythms of the
symphony. . .
she is dark, she is dark
she is reading about God.
I am God.
8k
Spreading bliss
Watching the glittery night
Feeling light
Inhaling the fresh air
With our loved ones
Listening the rythmic music of the hearts
Heading towards a colourful
Serene clean world
In silence....
Under the twinkling starlight
In a moonless night
Having a visual treat...
This diwali, burn the evils,
Let's bring the change!
This diwali, burst the ego,
Let's be the change!!
Oct 28, 2019
Oct 28, 2019 at 2:22 PM UTC
this is your story
do not be ashamed
may this be the telling of your journey
let your hands open up like gates
and your fingers flow like streams
your plams, the palette on which you walk
the ground on which you scrape up paint
and you stroke your fingers
against the canvas your Creator has made
so may forests grow
and mountains be lifted
may oceans part
and the waters be stilled
by gentle kisses of reminiscence
and the introspection
of our heart's rythmic hum
all by the grace and power of God
because these poems are your story
so do not be ashamed
instead, may this be the telling of His glory
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 6:58 AM UTC
*When you are gone,
Its not your smile that I'll miss the most.
Nor is it your laughter.
I will not miss your rythmic voice
Nor will I miss your amazing speeches.
When you are gone,
I'll have all those video clippings
And all those unnecessary voice recordings to be my aid in your absence.
But hundreds and hundreds of clips
Filled to the brim with your laughter and voice, will never be able to take your place.
And that's because they'll all be a repetition.
They'll show me what my eyes have already seen.
Priceless moments...
They'll never be able to create them,
Like you did all the time
With your amazing mind.
However hard I am on myself.
The truth will always be that I'll miss you.
I'll definitely miss your heart which was your aid until this last day.
But what I'll miss the most, is your mind and your everlasting soul.
I'll miss them beyond words.*
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 11:52 AM UTC
Notes, musical keys, rythmic changes-
A modification of the Word
Which purifies her soulfulness
And expresses clarities in the fog,
The hint of Dickinson in her words,
The scent of reality in her reflection,
The words become a path:
One wet summer I heard your words,
The vibrant sky breaths
And the sun became as embers
Of poetic sacrifice,
Through reading your poem
I became as a double being,
Movement began
A sudden dispersion of birds
Followed by the Humm of water
On stone,
Murmurs of infinite moments
Painting them all like some
Poet Saint,
The words became a lineage
To the unfathomable depths of you,
In the helix of hours
The beat of the sea and the stilled
Shimmers of light on water can be found
In the edification of her poetry;
Master strokes,
Like a naked liberation
Of a diamond body beyond
A turquoise sunset,
A co concubine of words
That form constellated meanings
Among the pnumbra,
Reminiscent of the March of hours
In which the words come
And a fixed glitter in her eyes form,
The form of woman,
A form of dizziness
Like a dance of wind and water,
I read between the words,
Vicki,
Vicki,
I imagine a lamp in the middle
Of the night,
A pen and a womans scorching
Words as God had spoken
The First Word,
Like a moon in heat in midday's
Grasp, she counters every word
Of expression
Like a cell for my tortured soul,
She became my solitary star,
I wander in her hours,
Hungry for more words,
A memory inventing itself,
Masterfully,
She makes the sky walk the land.
Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 3:19 PM UTC
I will give you a one red rose,
as long as from the ground
up to your beloved spot of mine.
I will never give you flowers.
That is a man's thing to do.
Not in this house one mess with
the customs - they're
divinely designed.
"Boo, hoo."
I said once.
May remind you twice.
Fourth'll be the time
you meet my ice.
"Boo, hoo."
Don't care of your style,
aspirations, dreams,
or that you don't drink wine.
Don't care of your stupid face,
passionate embrace or
rythmic dance between my thighs.
Don't care of your love.
I was told by God once
that love we do know is a men's sin.
Truly godly one the one is which
remains in the distance.
"And, the red rose?" - you may ask.
That's the one reserved for the occasion
when you'll be at threshold of our
destination.
Jul 16, 2020
Jul 16, 2020 at 7:14 AM UTC
Feeling the rythmic beat of your heart
your slow breath
listening to the soft rustling of leaves
to the breeze whispering sweet nothings.
Reminiscing pleasant memories...
...an absent-minded smile dancing on your lips
looking at the inky sky, deluged by the cool moonlight
lost in somebody's thoughts, longing for company
to share your quiet moments with...
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 12:50 PM UTC
Underneath that barbedwire exterior
You smile your graces
and pretend you are untouchable
Within the lapse of reason you have created for yourself
there is a greater meaning to this all
I hate to be the one who justifies your reasons
and destroys your ideas of endless confession
There is no one who can help you here
Except yourself
And im not sure your ready or willing to even try
The sun sinks low behind the hills of repentence
Can you see the blood flowing
Like a stream unto the sea
Can you hear your memories of submission
As the wind gently flows through the bows of you mind
Shh
Listen carefully to the murmurrings of thine heart
The rythmic enchantment plays out the tune at the base
Of thine existence and yet you still move forward never
knowing where your journey will end
Others are touched by the sadness that surrounds you
Thinkingly they try to save you from the gift life has bestowed
upon your fevered brow and yet you look to them with
Contempt they are the ones who never understood
They become mirrors in which you see what you will never have
*Leave my side you say to thine brothers and sisters
Who try to walk the same path be it for whatever reason they may have
In this difficult time move freely away from me with no guilt
Worry not for me as this is just as I had chosen for my life to be
Look upon your own life before looking upon mine
Change in your life what you will and leave me to my path for one day I too will surely shine*
Peacefully you climb forward taking momentary steps backwards
before again travelling forward
This is the way it was always ment to be
Others must look upon their own sun and smile
upon their own children
Keeping them from harm in the winter of our world
Feb 23, 2011
Feb 23, 2011 at 3:22 PM UTC
When we are sick
Our body suddenly appears as a conscience
Creating unease and pain
A burden uncontrollable yet much
thought about
The realization of its materiality
And the existence of the physical becomes more clearer
The mind and body separates into a two winged subject
As both separate and intimate existence
One that depends on the other and vice versa
This new rythmic thoughts go on.
A body, a presence is felt for the first time.
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 10:38 AM UTC
Dangling time in front of my face.
A rythmic ace.
East to west. East to west.
Ensnared.
By this chain as it wraps around my chest.
Hexed, dancing towards the edge of a chasm.
C ontorting for you cynicism
U nvieling for you undived attention.
R easoning for your recoilation.
S alivating for your sensuality.
E xcusing your erosion. ----
D ancing in my delusion. ---
You are the jack of spades.
A master of trades.
Colder than the queen of diamonds you've plucked from my mind and displayed.
I am the rabbit you'll rip from your mad hatter.
Impatiently awaiting my own dismal disaster.
Pounding my fists;
"Make this trick go faster!"
Getting mixed up with an illusionist was hasty and unplanned;
As my courage melts, he strokes my cheek
With his sleight of hand.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 7:49 PM UTC
Oh sweet your kiss like a beautiful wine
so tenderly sipped and so divine
oh heavenly the moment so magical too
devouring your kiss with passion and the hunger
enveloping you
torrents of sweat form like beads
your hunger so ravenous while it feeds
rythmic rocking of hips so divine
jolts of pleasure and ******** wine
locked in lust so filled so heavenly
entwined in your love pure escstasy
oh sweet your kiss you seductively ****** me
your charms I fell for so beautifully.
Nov 23, 2011
Nov 23, 2011 at 6:42 AM UTC
being poetic sometimes just comes to you naturally. the words flow through you onto the paper in a beautiful rythmic way and they paint an emotional landscape of thoughts and feelings but then someone sees it finds all the flaws all the things that made you feel it was yours that made you feel unique ruined. you feel exposed, hurt, scared. you hide from yourself you won't let your muse out for fear of having your art distroyed altered and corrupted. so you change you pick up a brush you dip it in the paint and you let the flow begin again. your strokes are thrown at the canvas where you feel the anger, your strokes become detailed and gentle when you feel happiness or calm emotions. but then someone sees it they see only the flaws they tear it apart and you along with it. where the lines are jagged from your anger and disappointment they only see uneveness and imperfection. where the shading is uneven from the sadness and the pain they only see imperfection they can't see what precious beauty lay deep inside the painting and the use there words to hurt you to make you feel like you were wrong like your not doing good enough. so you swear never to touch a brush again you will never let yourself flow with emotions like that ever again you tell yourself. but then you change you learn to play the piano you learn to make your fingers glide across the keys in the same was a figure skater glides across the ice. and with each key stroke you heart beats a note that flows out through the piano like blood through your vains. it feels natual it feels good it makes you feel alive you let go. everything comes out everything you feel and think flows through your fingers the notes of your heart beat expressed through the notes of the piano. the feel of the ivory on your finger tips becomes unnoticable you beome one with the flow of the music your heart beats in time with the rhythm of you soul of your music. and then someone hears it they come in and they take a seat and for a while they listen then they stand up and without a word they leave the room and you continue to play you let your flow continue you pay no mind to the person who just left the room. they return they have brought people with them and they sit quitely and say nothing. you stop playing you stand nod to each aknowlegeing their presense and then leave because the music wasn't for them it wasn't for them to judge even though as you leave you hear the people talk about how amazing they felt you were you no longer care they approval or disapproval means nothing its no longer about your art being good or being acceptable its about being...
Jan 1, 2010
Jan 1, 2010 at 4:16 PM UTC
you walk
the earth
so gracefully
it is almost
as if you are
an extension
of it.
every move
you make is
so rythmic.
every step,
every breath,
every heartbeat.
you know
how to entice
the mind and
the body,
like an art
you have down
to a science,
like a means
of survival.
you slip on
heels and stand
tall, shoulders back,
chin up, like a soldier,
you wear
winged eyeliner
like war paint.
you exist
in complete
fearlessness.
you know
yourself as
an unstoppable
force.
you know
that you own
the world when
you dance.
Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 12:02 PM UTC
I sometimes feel my heart burdened with this horrible sadness.
The blood that passes through me a river of tears,
The beat of my pulse a steady, rythmic wardrum.
Can anyone but me hear them?
I look to the heavens and I see the face of my Creator.
I know he hears it, and I know I am not alone.
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 1:36 PM UTC
Last night I walked alongside the trees,
the woods, frosted over with ice, snow
My boots are new and cheap,
letting in the cold and moisture also
Alone my promises the trees will keep
Although I wish instead the leaves would return
and fall upon me as your love once could
Washing over me, a rythmic pattern
Soothing was your love, my love
Soothing were the words you held
On the palms of your hands,
On the tip of your tongue,
But I was always so young
Too young for love, my love
Last night the wind was soft, gentle
Inside my heart has turned a fossil
Where the blood used to pump
Where my soul used to swell
Now all that is left is to dwell
But dwell I will not, not on you any longer
I have come so much further,
And become so much stronger
Still that fossil lingers on to know,
If things had happened differently,
Would our love have had the chance to grow?
Soothing was your love, my love,
Soothing were the hands you placed
Upon my sides, entwined with my own
Tangled in a mess of cotton sewn,
In a place no longer called your home,
To hold tight to one memory,
Is to ignore all of the rest,
And those that rest upon my chest,
I digress, I cannot dwell upon a mess.
Tonight I lay dormant, in a room, in a cave
It is not mine, it is borrowed, a nightlight shines for me
To breathe, to see, to lay alone inside this home
I cannot call it my own, for youth is all I truly have
Too young for love, my love,
Is what you always said
Little did you know, my love
This love will never cease
This love will never rest
Except inside the fossil
That replaced my heart
Inside my chest.
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 1:36 PM UTC
Beat backthe back beat.
Drop right in.
Ska reggae. Blues . Groove metal. Old ragtime.
Trip but don't fall.
Stride piano. Jump.
At the savoy.
Tight rythmic confusion.live the illusion.
I walked past the Dunbar in days past.
The doors were shuttered.. I heard fats' ivory twinkle.
On central ave.
Synche up.
Or don't
Just drop in
Where you fit in.
In front.
In back.
Up high or to the side.
Groove. Baby.
Groove.
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 12:07 PM UTC
She knows her every desire
That her mind and body require
With a rythmic mind
Notes that form a line
Sway and bounce to the sound
Shut up it can never be too loud
She knows how to lose it
When up turns the music
Smiles carefree and easy
Taste may verge on cheesy
Turn up your rock and roll
Start to lose control
She knows how to move
When they play her grove
Sunny days in Auzzie's land
Playing all day in the sand
Spends her time by the water
Watching as the sun makes it hotter
A moving mindless sway
Is how she likes to play
Growing her appetite for ffun
A bright white smile to helplessly stun
Her name in every song
So catchy you'll want to sing along
19 forever young
Now go out to celebrate your fun!
Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 3:59 PM UTC
You bring your head closer to my chest,
And as my heart beats against your eardrums ,
It makes a kind of music only the two of us can hear.
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 3:02 PM UTC
Plucked spinets in discord
To a harmony of chorus,
Sonorously pitched
On a warm Summer eve.
Balmy is the air
In a shimmering blue silence
And the purity of cadence
Leads the Godless to believe.
Passers bye pause
In the magical moment,
All heads rotate
To the origin of sound,
Heavenly cascades
Through the twilight of evening
Causing couples to dance
As though jewelled and begowned.
Delicate resonances
Entwine the moment,
Swayed rythmic rapture
Entrances the crowd,
Ensembles of satyr
Arouse tender senses
In caressing the maidens
To pink ****** proud.
Pink ****** proud
Are the breathless young maidens,
Bright shining eyes
From young tapping toes.
The rapture of spinets
Played deftly with passion
In the cool of the night,
Where a pale moonlight knows.
Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
2 November 2011
Nov 2, 2011
Nov 2, 2011 at 9:09 PM UTC
I spend a lot of time
free inside my mind
I dream of a vacant room
with only a mirrored wall
and polished wooden floors
The lilac stereo blasts my favorite songs
and i dance the rythmic ways
ive been dreaming of for days
sometimes, the lilac doors creaks open
and someone i don’t know the name of
dances with me.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 2:38 PM UTC
I spend a lot of time
free inside my mind
I dream of a vacant room
with only a mirrored wall
and polished wooden floors
The lilac stereo blasts my favorite songs
and i dance the rythmic ways
ive been dreaming of for days
sometimes, the lilac doors creaks open
and someone i don’t know the name of
dances with me.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 2:38 PM UTC
Please Stay
If only for just one moment longer
Stay and
Hold me, till inside I feel stronger
Just Stay
So we can watch the night turn into day
Stay because
With you I can chase my thoughts away.
I need you to Stay
Without you here my soul grows weak
Stay let me
For once, be the comfort that you seek
If you Stay
I can drift away to your heart's rythmic tone
Stay for inside
I dread the idea of going thru this all alone
You must Stay
In your eyes I have found my way home
Stay and save me
From my broken soul doomed to blindly roam
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 2:22 PM UTC
Confined to this asylum bound by massive chains
restricting me to my own mis- guided perception, oh how I long to break free.
In the distance there lies a sea of disconsolate faces washing ashore so I keep watch to see if I can find me.
There is this hollowness inside me, it's presence so utterly dominating, like a raging river it runs wild.
The idea of feeling completely numb is ever so enchanting, an escape from all the dishevelment that thru the years I have compiled.
The air around me has becime so stifiling, it is slowly crushing my lungs, under its magnitude I will be forced to give in before too long.
Willing my breath to please slow so I can calm myself before the storm, I focus on my hearts rythmic sound, such melancholy song..
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 9:49 PM UTC