"sates" poems
Total me a dream
Find me, a corner of an eye
Save me, the turn of chaste, in whim
And poise, me is a reason to be why
A house...
A character of decency, we delve long and tight
A stirring hour, we hope is beyond a days shroud
Taken with the memory, of sincerity to share might...?
A place...
Found with the eyes of wonder, we make for ourselves
Chance heiring, in the name of a vice's pace
Of coping how, and the semblance of seclusion, a wealth?
A room...
For sign's of witness, particular to shadows of change
Wealth is to be the common, the thought to let liberty mushroom
And become a friend, of worth in loyal sates; however strange...
A step...
Forward with communion to entail even the solitude, we meant
For a night's angel, and the demands of couth we select for wit?
See the composed guide me to the strength I know, is more sent...
A stone we should know...
Passing all to follow the method of our following
Promise and privilege, in the seem, to wish once upon a time to owe
Swept away with the today we accept, is a now in the hallowing...
Jun 28, 2023
Jun 28, 2023 at 8:50 PM UTC
G-D bless the united Sates
of AMERICA
and ALLEH BLESS CANDA
SOCIALIST COMMNIST PIGS
some pagan satan ravens
kissing each others of the same ***
hot on the ***** mouth, crushing
each others black-winged desires
into diamonds of
hard lust
they wear as inverted
wedding rings
kiss this cross !! burn everyone,
womin and childrin first !!
THE KKKANADiENS ARE HERE
Dec 26, 2011
Dec 26, 2011 at 10:53 PM UTC
The lights all up around me
They dance and flicker
Swirling up and down each tree
As the music gets quicker
What a colorful holiday
Something new around each bend
We climb into Santa’s sleigh
And begin to ascend
The clouds fall below us
As we are launched into the sky
The turns we took were brusque
But the heavens never felt so nigh…
...
...
I cover you with a quilt
For the sleigh keeps climbing higher
Towards your hometown we tilt
I wonder, what will transpire?
There’s something big in the back
Is it full of coal?
Perhaps there’s something else in that sack
A doll, a plane, a little toy troll?
Perhaps we will find out
Your hometown draws near
Rudolf raises his red snout
Followed by the rest of the reindeer…
...
...
They shift their gaze
Towards a landing strip
People down there in a craze
We must look like a spaceship
They angle their flight
Right down the middle
It is quite the sight
And the thrill makes us giggle
What’s going on down below?
I ask Santa sitting up front
“I don’t really know”
He says as a reindeer grunts
“They must be waiting for you
Down there, to see what took place
For you came back with her,
That’s not exactly commonplace”
I look back at you, and you meet my gaze
Together we’ll get through
Of that I have no doubt
The sleigh is landing now
There is no backing out…
...
...
Santa pulls up on the reins
On the landing strip the sleigh glides
Only stepping out remains
As we do, the crowd divides
There in the middle
Surrounded by curious people
Stands a man with thumbs he twiddles
He looks more nervous than you or I
I grab your hand and look back again
This is it, we feel suddenly shy
Now’s not the time, so confidence we feign
We look forward and meet his eye
He looks at us and gives a sigh
“Dad?” you say
You look back at me, with display
Introductions are made
Feelings are conveyed
We no longer stand in a masquerade
Everything is out
The closet has swung open
We have nothing left to hide
You squeeze my hand
I coincide
As we look to your dad and wait
…
…
He looks at you with love
Then he looks at me squarely
Before he can say a word
Santa breaks in and shouts “let’s all be merry!”
The crowd breaks into laughter
As Santa sates the air with a magic
And joy fills everyone’s thoughts
Your father looks at us again
This time, with a smile, he simply nods
May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 10:53 AM UTC
“the unbound unbinding: an admixture of words and swords…
that will cut a newborn cord of reciprocity of thee and me,
miracle!
thereby, an unbound binding that ties and frees us from
and connects us nonetheless by our shared senses…”
<!>
these words, recalled well,
for they but a newborn issue of a few days, and the notion of binding that
frees us into reciprocity yet buzz~hums
in my brain
the contradictory nature of a cutting
which ties us together,
that an unbinding binds us even more tightly,
I struggle, to better understand the nature how an unraveling
of our connection somehow ties us closer
but re-envisioning
Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel in my mind’s eye,
that sparking space tween God’s finger outstretched
to bring the enlivening of his spirit to His first enervate, Adam,
the original of we humans,
somehow sates my confusion
***to touch each other
at the most primitive basis,
we require a space
between us, in order to fulfill,
a contract contact
of completion and binding***
and this bestills and bestirs
my puzzlement,
a space electric necessary
to permit us to
close the human circuitry
!***and I am contented,
the contradiction
no more, I sense the
need to close gaps
tween us certify our human resources
for it is the permanent invisible grasping
of our loving minds that transcends
overpowers gaps,
bringing tears of joy to my eyelids,
even as I write these words,
and greet this morning
with
optimism
that every space
brings a richer
closure!***!
Sep 17, 2023
Sep 17, 2023 at 7:36 AM UTC
kurukshetra grey
but iridescent with the glory of all dreams combined
some omphalos of lusciousness still pumps
an umbilicus of sates
to broadening skies,
parhelion whims
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 11:41 PM UTC
Every night,
L.A. lights
watercolor
the starry night
a lavender haze,
that peeps through
drawn blinds of
mingy minds,
cushioned in cream.
Like
sirens soothe
deaf ears
liquor tickles
numb tongues,
and
pizza sates
greased guts,
pollution’s hue
clears consciousness,
letting a city sleep.
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 7:22 PM UTC
But the sun doesn't shine
Upon me
As it used to,
Feel so attached to
My precious devices
And harnessing its
Divine potency
Just to see
Seems as if I'm
Disregarding its poetry
Blind to abusing its glow
To be shown
An ephemeral glimpse
Of some remnant of home
But its spark does not energize
My own creations
Just sates them with meager
Technology rations
And hooks me to wires
And cables
Like playthings
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 6:19 AM UTC
She stands tall and proud, her elegant architecture that even on winter mornings warms an icy breath and sates an empty belly.
In the burst of sunlight, beyond and through the trees, she is a muffle of loud voices, calling out a name, I can't quite catch it, in the rush of a westerly wind and the swirl of Autumn leaves.
The echoes bounce off the bark, and in her resonance heralds the death knell of the light and the coming of the children of the dark.
The moon wrestles in a patchwork cloudy sky, and I the Watcher can do nothing to halt time or the tide.
Left to watch as the Belle Tower fades from sight, silently she hides in the long shadow, and like the moonlight between the trees, flickers as she slowly passes me by.
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 8:04 AM UTC
Just a word, Lord…
is what I desire today.
Often I devote quality time with Thee,
hoping to learn more of your Holy ways.
Just a word, Lord…
keeps me moving forward with You;
embrace me with Your Presence,
in everything that I say and do.
[CHORUS]
Just a word, Lord…
provides me with Everlasting Life.
Being focused on You,
reduces the noise of earthly strife.
Just a word, Lord…
completely captures my heart.
My longing for You flows as water,
that sates the thirsty hart.
[CHORUS]
Just a word, Lord…
brings me out of the wilderness.
Hear and answer my cries to be
clothed with Your Righteousness.
Just a word, Lord…
lifts and inspires my weary spirit.
Cover me with grace continually,
in anticipation of Your heavenly junket.
[CHORUS]
_________________________________________
[CHORUS]
Open the eyes of my understanding;
remove the spiritual blinders on me!
Always keep in my remembrance…
Your sacrifice on that accursed tree.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Ezekiel 7:1-8, 1 Kings 6:11-13, Ezekiel 12:1-2, 26-28, John 6:47, Galatians 6:8
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2010, All rights reserved.
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 6:50 AM UTC
"Ragnarök"
It sates itself on the life-blood
of fated men,
paints red the powers' homes
with crimson gore.
Black become the sun's beams
in the summers that follow,
weathers all treacherous.
Do you still seek to know? And what?
Brothers will fight
and **** each other,
sisters' children
will defile kinship.
It is harsh in the world,
whoredom rife
—an axe age, a sword age
—shields are riven—
a wind age, a wolf age—
before the world goes headlong.
No man will have
mercy on another.
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 12:04 PM UTC
Love addicts,
High from a single touch,
Trembling from a single kiss,
Sighing for what might be
Could be, and should be,
Hooked into our own groove,
For I am your drug,
And you, sweet woman,
You are totally mine,
As we lust for a fix,
Lost within a vertiginous miasma,
Reeling from a passion that sates,
So blissfully satisfying, and yet,
Also leaves us wanting more,
So much more that we ache,
Cast adrift upon an ocean,
One previously unknown,
The swells heaving,
The currents swirling,
Tides of wanton desire,
Surf crashing over us poor,
Love addicts.
©Paul M Chafer 2017
Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 9:13 AM UTC
This is number 12 my "Count Orlok" series. It is choice.
A blind woman weeps in the cold shadows
Tears for the agony she has endured,
And will endure as she must watch her son,
Her only begotten son, joy of her blind eyes,
Being ripped to shreds by the Beast.
Deep in the darkest shadows of blackest Hades
The Foul Beast wallows in virgins' blood,
Delighting in the raucous screams of pain,
As his devil-minions roast their victims
Before sodomising them with white hot rods.
She sees through her flame-ruined blind eyes
Her ****** son dragged down into the pit
And splayed onto the charred crucifix,
Naked and helpless before the mighty Beast,
Who bellows with eldritch joy at the sight.
Even the flames are too cold for the Beast:
He must have more white heat to relish the pain
That shall be inflicted on his curséd victims;
And the devils dance around the screaming boy
Before the Beast sates his lust in the victim's smelly ****
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC
Suddenly you thirst for her kiss
And she sates you with lips and tongue
So you feel the warmth of her cheeks
And terror at what you've just done.
Oct 18, 2011
Oct 18, 2011 at 6:36 AM UTC
*unfailing clockwork come,
no surcease tendered from its
onerous, regulated,
on-time scheduled,
yet, untimely demands
arise to serve,
serve the sentence,
the sentence of
"out, out,"
whether candle or spot,
but there be no out,
damnable or otherwise
flailing words,
uttered no matter how,
the burden of the inexorable
is freshened daily,
yet horribly unchanged
failing words,
dent not the injustice of,
the condemnation of,
tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
for if the play's the thing,
this thing,
on the morrow,
performed eight times a week,
the sound and the fury
of applause fading,
a chiming of intermission ending,
the sets struck,
yet the tick of tomorrow,
is but the tock,
the switch off
of today
that
Doesn't Work
the script, well memorized,
it's mastery demands perfunctory performance,
and
an ending that sates,
but playwright,
none provides,
his woeful signature
his pas de coup,
signifying
that tomorrow returns faithfully,
desirious of its unfulfilled dissatisfaction,
for it kens none other
though calling out,
"out, out,"
but there be no out*
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 4:25 PM UTC
we were a classical case
of too many chemicals
catalytic affections
that infect with their tentacles
grab hold, render me wrecked
in the best of ways and the worst
sweet poison that sates something
only to instill a greater thirst
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 10:50 PM UTC
a wonderful poetess friend
I did happen upon
she has a welcoming heart
ever to don
twas fated that we became
the very best of sisterly mates
there's such a genuine nature
in her soul's sates
I speak
of a true
confidante
one who
I implicitly
trust
I speak
of a true
treasure
with qualities
that are a
must
dear Winn is an awesome
kind of gal
and I'm so thrilled having her
as my American pal
Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 7:52 PM UTC
The wind is my lover
and the water that pivots
beneath the sky above me
could be any color for all
the attention I'm paying it.
For in the speed that whips
me about in a circle,
this world loses meaning.
As my hair gains independence
and my skin darts behind me
in the afternoon heat
and my limbs numb utterly
to victorious speed,
all my cares and leaden ties
are brought to light
and shown their insubstantiality;
they are spat derisively
into the dusk.
For the wind is my lover
and he sates my hungers
and visits with my youth
and quiets my longing
for sense with every velvet
torrent that passes through
my open hand.
And when the boat stops, I will break apart.
Would that the wind would grasp me and pull me
aft into the blackness beyond the shore.
Feb 23, 2010
Feb 23, 2010 at 6:34 PM UTC
Sitting on the edge,
mountains make a hedge,
horizon's silhouette, borders
to the imagination
of what lies beyond,
juste le beau monde,
anglacism, ou non?
Peace is what awaits
where my imagination
sates,
while I breathe slowly,
the last of the sunset air,
just out of reach, over there
past my fingertips, but
I touch the distant clouds,
the sky changes hue and
I imagine you sitting in the
next room, as the colour
matches your blush, and
a hush comes over the world
as I close my eyes,
and still see the mountains
with green pine trees so high,
and I breathe in and hold
I am
refreshed
by the mountain air so cold
and bracing sends my
heart racing,
no balcony,
no home,
just the mountain
the rocky mountain
beneath my feet,
the solid rock
created by
God.
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
From the fading warmth of my cheek,
her arm cascaded to her side,
like the minute hand of a clock:
how minute I felt in the absence
of touch.
It was her touch
that revealed what it is
to be alone.
It is her touch
that cemented the truth
built up
like a fairy-tale tower,
plastered upon my skin;
rooted
in each step I take.
As time passes,
in my lofty solitude,
I forget her face.
I forget the trace
of touch,
marking out the
far reaches of
my heart,
the territory she stole,
the jigsaw piece she
lost.
What remains is a memory...
Enshrined
in the gems
of dragon's treasure;
entombed
in the lands
of hopeless measure:
it remains.
I seek it out
in a perilous journey,
across arid time, and crooked space
it bathes in rubies,
it's slender edges, and soft lace;
there's her face!
The memory in the crook
of my lap, it sates
my bleeding heart
my barren fates
circadian rhythm, it sings to me
it's precious here
a sight to see
go now life
leave me be
with her I'm fixed
no broken dreams.
I cradle memory
turn it over to find...
What's this? An edge is cracked?
How come!
Is it the witching hour?
Where's loaded gun?
The memory pours
out forth the fun
I lose the memory
dear love is done.
Out on the steps
of my life post-love,
I share a drink
with a charcoal dove.
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 9:34 PM UTC
Into the folds of the dress and the mold.
Though he is old and he has no more sense.
You've never heard this, it hasn't been told,
Of the babbling coot: his all-seeing eye.
Drooling over his woodcarving he waits.
The boys find him, his eyes rolling circles.
Old man! Tell us. What's in this box of dates?
Another box, old mans says, just a box.
And within that box? A little boy grates.
Another box, the old man says, just a box.
The boys chatter with glee at what truth sates.
They run off, "Old man ain't crazy! Just old."
Talking to a black bird, the old man sat.
The boys find him: bird nodding agreement.
Old man! Across the sea! How old's old Pat?
A scratch of the chin. "Why, she's fifteen, boys."
The boys, perplexed, walk away; that was that.
"They'll bury him there," old man said. Bird squawks.
Rocking in chair, whistling his old, old tune.
The men find him looking young than ever.
Old man! Been years! Where's the pirate's treasure?
The men drunkenly wait for the magic.
Old man whispers in the ear of the eldest.
Eldest pulls out map; his eyes almost burst.
The men run off as if chasing the sun.
A shovel shakes off its last bead of dirt.
Tears, precious pearls of sorrow, ease burdens.
The men, swathed in finery, mourn for friend.
"Old man!" New eldest asks, "You knew didn't you?"
Old man titters, "I only saw, boys, see?"
New eldest grabs old man. Birds squawk in trees.
Black clouds ooze across the sky overhead.
Winds rattle the old man's house... death rattles.
The men pull new eldest away from there.
Old man drops to ground. He stands up to stare.
The spooked men run off back to their home town.
A black bird swoops onto old man's shoulder.
" 'Twas my box of dates they showed me that day.
Twas my great grandchild Pat who they spoke of.
And 'twas my gold they were all looking for.
My eye only sees what belongs to me!"
The old man sat down in his rocking chair.
In the moonlight, a glimmer of gold eyes,
spoke of a soulless pirate king's riches.
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 9:09 PM UTC
Eyes black as coal, light the fire of passion
Tingling wisps of pleasure radiates from the depths
Finally jostled from hibernation,
The longing beast within is stirred
Natural instincts do engulf it,
And a presence from a past life leads
Whist gingerness is mixed with crushing blows
The dish that’s made sates the lust of love
And more is said with tongues subdued
Than the talking of a million hours time.
Feb 15, 2012
Feb 15, 2012 at 12:53 PM UTC
Do we gi' a nod
or a sigh
for the young lod'
wanting to die?
For life is no' full
nor empty
Sates not tha' pull
by the time ye be twenty
Plod on, plod on
Hope in tha' kingdom come
neither sell nor pawn
Life, precious beyon' sum
Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 9:25 PM UTC
Intimacy
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I held the Sun, Stars and Moon at a distance
till the time your hands touched mine.
Now I am not a feather to be easily detached:
instruct the hurricanes and tornados to observe their limits!
The Mad Moon
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Stars have a habit of showing off,
but the mad moon sojourns in darkness.
Body Language
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Your body’s figures are written in cursive!
How will I read you? Hand me the book!
Insatiable
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
This mighty ocean, so deep and vast!
If it sates my thirst, how long can it last?
Honor
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Achievements may fade but the name sounds strong;
walls may buckle but the roof stays on.
On a pile of corpses a child stands alone
and declares that his family still lives on!
Dust in the Wind
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
This is how I introduce myself to questioners:
Pick up a handful of dust, then blow...
Dissembler
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
In your eyes this, in your heart that, on your lips something else?
If this is how you are, speak to someone else!
Rumor (M)ill
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I heard rumors my health was bad;
prying people made me ill.
The Vortex
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I am the river whose rapids form a vortex;
You were wise to avoid my banks.
Homebound
by Rahat Indori
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
If people fear what they meet at every turn,
why do they ever leave the house?
Keywords/Tags: Rahat Indori, Urdu, translation, Bollywood, love, intimacy, stars, moon, ocean, sea, river, eyes, heart, lips, dust, family, mrburdu
May 6, 2020
May 6, 2020 at 6:08 PM UTC
Thief of a golden light
Blood of a night leading the forbidden sates
Something that confirmed victory
Confirmed hope
But until a heir closes the gate
Our light is stolen
Time and space consumed
Lost in void.
Mar 16, 2015
Mar 16, 2015 at 8:05 PM UTC
I'm not going to “Pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America”.
We aren’t “One nation, under God”.
What happened to “Liberty and justice for all”?
People stopped caring, that’s what.
These are a few words from our pledge, yet all I read is empty promises.
The first two amendments of our very own Constitution include these;
One: Freedom of speech. Yet we aren’t allowed to say what we think.
Two: Freedom of press. Yet tv and radio stations can’t swear.
Three: Freedom of religion. But if one doesn’t agree with another’s religion they point it out.
Four: Peaceable Assembly. But we can’t protest without causing “Problems”.
Five: Petition the Government. Yet the government always has final say.
And six: The right to bear arms. So why are they taking our guns?
“Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on the continent,
a new nation, conceived in liberty,
and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.”
Abraham Lincoln, Gettysburg Address, November 19th, 1863.
Some of the greatest words ever said in or about our country.
Most of us as American’s have thrown all that away.
Men and women are both treated unfairly.
There are Feminists out there complaining about every little mistake a man can make.
Men on average earn 22% more in pay than women do.
There are 13 states where they have banned same *** marriage.
Nothing about America shows equality.
Women and men are out there fighting for us right now, or have in the past.
They fight to keep our country whole, and free, and peaceful, and united.
But it’s hard to keep something united that has not been in a long time. So no.
I won’t pledge my allegiance to the flag of the Broken Sates of America
Until it is fixed again. Would you?
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 9:56 AM UTC