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Alyssa Underwood Jul 2017
Rest in this, my bruised and weary soul:
I was a wretch, chosen to be a beauty;
a slave, chosen to be a bride;
an orphan, chosen to be an heir;
an enemy, chosen to be a friend.
I deserved nothing but wrath and death
yet received everything of life and grace.
I am loved beyond any dreaming of it
and blessed above all worldly wealth.
I have the incomparable birthright of those
whose Father is God and whose Lord is Jesus Christ—
righteousness from Him and peace with Him.
I am a cherished gift from the Father to the Son.
I was paid for by the Son’s own blood
and am "engraved on the palms of His hands."
I am the living temple of God’s Holy Spirit
Who empowers me to do His pleasure and bring Him glory.
I am the LORD's, chosen and set apart for His delight.

What more could I ask?
But that's only the beginning...


I will live as blessed as I believe myself to already be,
for "I have been blessed in the heavenly realms
with every spiritual blessing in Christ,"
"given everything I need for life and godliness"
through knowing Him and His precious promises,
"an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—
kept [securely and eternally] in heaven" for me.
I've been "raised up and seated with Christ";
my "life is hidden with Him" in the Father,
and "He will fill me with joy in His presence,
with eternal pleasures at His right hand."

Oh, that "the eyes of my heart would be enlightened
with the spirit of wisdom and revelation"
to see what’s already been prepared and given to me
and to know much more fully the One Who has
so meticulously prepared and lavishly given it.
As I walk intimately with Him and rest confidently in Him
(based only on His merits, never my own),
I am given free access to my account
in His heavenly storehouse and enabled to appropriate
its glorious riches to every circumstance of my life,
even the most searingly painful and confoundingly difficult ones.

I have a spiritual Fort Knox available to me
through knowing Christ Jesus my Lord,
but He Himself is my greatest treasure.
Without Him, nothing else matters.
Nothing else has meaning if I am not found in Him,
clinging to Him and carried by Him.
When I finally become desperate for Him alone,
I begin to understand the profound reality
of all He desires for me and offers to me
in my spiritual inheritance in Him.

There are infinite presents to be unwrapped
in His presence which cannot be told
in human words or comprehended by mortal minds,
but they wait to be taken hold of by
any and all who would take hold of Him.

For He gives and gives and gives and gives,
and even when He takes, He gives.
#
~~~

Inspired by the Holy Bible
(quotes from NIV)

Ephesians 1:3-19; Romans 5:1-11; 2 Peter 1:3-4; 1 Peter 1:3-4;
Ephesians 2:3-6; Colossians 3:3; Psalm 16:11; Isaiah 49:16

***
Post-azure, cloud splashed sky,
washes with the suns descent,
breaking into melodies of sunset.
Fracturing into a blush,
the richness of the spectrum
makes itself known.
On a tangent of change,
amorphous clouds bleed
amber glow
and bittersweet combinations
of reds and yellows.
Vermillion streaks through,
and a few cloud folk turn titian,
like sumptuous surreal apricots
rotting in the sky,
that seem to augur
encroaching darkness.
Billows on the horizon
leak crimson,
like spilled wine on table cloth,
and pucker out
like blooms of flaming roses.
Fire refracted
coloured cousins of the sun
are dancing all about.

Here is the anthem
of wild transformation.
Here is cause
for quiet celebration.
Here at this fluent juncture.
Here at the closing of day.

The whole of the ocean below,
is the skies tremendous mirror.
It's reflection is variegated,
into variations a thousandfold.
Multitudinous, and ever differentiated,
distortions of above
ride the crests of waves.
Each apex is a new story.
Each new story,
just as soon as it is told,
comes crashing into trough.
Each finale is the ****** of beginning.
The dynamic roar
of the oceans ever-changing topology
is rife with meaning.

Colossal symphonic wonders,
the primordial song,
releasing upon: the uni-
verse continual,
sending the manifest
to move, with the give and strain
of immaculate design.

Here ensconced
between the safety of light
and the mystery of night.
Here at the oceans edge.

Above, shades of catalina-blue, in conversation
with the outer most cosmic-black
dismiss earlier brighter hues.
Tinged by the infinite nature of space,
the jeweled dome darkens.
Overhead, the first stars appear,
sky transparent to beheld blackness.

Luxuriant, pulling horizon, attracts
violet into it's unfolding theatrics.
Bloodied clouds turn purplish, then black,
a darkening rawness allures,
decaying with vivid beauty,
tragedies of a rouged romance
drug down into shadows play,
searingly alive, extraordinarily actual.

And then, the hush of dusk.
Darkness is felled, like silence.
Scintillating stars
strengthen in the nights
surrounding abyss;
giving radiance definition.

Dynamic Beauty
Lives In Transition,
Oppositions
Compliment.
cicadas thrummed all day
as the sun searingly shone
their drumming beat abated
when the cool breeze came
Nat Lipstadt Feb 2018
VD/ lasting life

I have VD.

the decapitating, desiccating disease slow taking over

every day another word withers and there are no replacements

the diminishing returns cannot be substituted and all losses are
permanent, like Samson’s hair, once cut, cannot grow back

I live alone.  Easier then conversing,
gaps in your sentences,
****** communication that is pointless anyway

banished by overuse and incapacitated;
tarnished by time, silver polish resistant;
too late for inoculation the cortex eroding;
the Vocabulary Diminishment has cost me so far:

rain and all its weathered relations;
sad and it’s variant cousins;
body partition arrhythmia, breathtaking breathing loving has
jumped overboard

lasting life

never bothered me that verse and curse rhyme so fittingly,
fit for life, for ‘tis nothing but re-racked intermittent rhymes,
reasoned rhythms connecting the intermittent mayhem’s
dropping by for fun and choosing, verse or curse

nevertheless, won’t bother to explain the difference
between last and lasting, leave it for you to self-teach-taught

nonetheless,  body is degrading, the needs grow strongly weaker and the bites taken out by time, her, imagination, p ain,
even worse words disappear, f irst a letter the hole s aces are
modern art product, avant garde  at the finish line

empties remain as abscesses with all-access passes,
cortex locked on only receive is busted and most of your
transmissions go direct to the
Junk mail folder

winter drags and summer now a vision of was and no longer a
will be, a thrilling sensory palace with a closed sign
appliqué to my weakened ayes

time to rise time, to shave, put on the cutaway uniform
when you obtain the obligatory occasional I love you
and it winces, and tears still come easy
when you want them too
but you don’t want them to arrive or
let depart the ones that presently dry
of their own according in their place

mechanics of writing are obstacles and the cherished
lovely fluidity of transportation traveling transformation is searingly wearing and beyond the just,
the reach, of the true meaning of meme
which means has no more to communicate

the days of slow wasting away,
when the touch is worse
you say out out loud to the tiles
shave away the slough, flush the fallen skin cells,
just cut me down, these bad poems are too onerous
when the brrrain is hardened ice ball hitting forehead

so we go away in every sensory hurrah
retired to solitary ask no questions expect no answers
dreaming of healings but that is another self-starting movie
dreaming sequence that has been erased

fearsome, the energy drinks required to survey survival,

much easier to bid adieu and bypass au revoir

the standard set can be modified or erased
and everyone wants a shortcut lesson to skip to the
top of the line, are they unaware that line will choke au fin

important meetings ahead, assembly the solutions and your
children want answers and you give them a mirror and implore
them do better than thy lousy training

don’t make no difference, their genomes contain
mon nom so they come cursed and I who wrote, shot prayers
on skywriting writ, have none to offer present-lies

poor babies too long this elegy, too bad for you
work is hard and no r&r location on my list and short
attention spans will bring you low in world of words


say bad bye to over loved companions

https://hellopoetry.com/words/

the Vocabulary Diminishment disease don’t permit
reuse: true colors needed crest creation and all the
breaks are bad and the words have fled my pointer
fingerprint fingertip

code only in 0’s;
it’s like having halve a tongue
and if you were among the lucky few who knew my visage,
look away look away and let this too long spaghetti sauce be
recipe thrown away my vision is satisfied

3:11 am and no more
s words to fall upon
Seán Mac Falls Dec 2013
How could I not— know . . .
See the noncut of soaring eyes,
Approach, moist, ****** and tidal,
Waves so searingly laden with tear,
Flame, forged in some mythic winter
Frozen as I was, before the rush of ice
And flows of glacier, I heard the loudest
Break of open silence in the seep and roar
Of depths' deepest, dark, coldest ocean waters,
  .  .  .  Before sweet suffocations of the very colour
White and saw the dim fates of fade, emergence of blue,
Hearts drowning.
Onoma Aug 2018
you're standing there...

if waiting were a statue,

and night sudden release.

i slide up behind you--

take a fistful of hair and

drape it over your shoulder.

press my lips to the back of

your neck, and ask with searingly

hot breath: do you know what

you've done?

you throw your head back as if

being impaled...you always knew

i was there.

i snake bite your listening ear--

for the Shakti of my poetry to enter...

and never exit.

do you know what you've done?

this is cosmic...and twin the flame.
*Rest your right foot on my chest Kali (the buzzing Heart of the clearing) I Love You~
lydia orr Jul 2020
i make my heart collapse.
seedlings planted in my chest
trees sprouting out of my *******.
i am the root of this massive Redwood.
i watch the leaves shake
till they touch hands with the sky,
say hello to the sun.

pull me upwards.
lurch me forward.
giant Redwood breaking through me
as i travel up its stump.
i love the blood the tree jerks from my veins.
drips down that rough bark
and settles past its roots
where it lays to rest in the hot center of the earth.

i love the skin ripped from my body
as i am revealed for all that i am.
lies suffocating in oxygen,
their deaths fertilizing the life that is this earth.

Breathe.
feel cold purity enter your lungs.
let the wind carry your limp body.
finger paint the sky as your canvas,
use the sun as your paints.

Rest,
deep in those moon craters.
befriend the stars.

Breathe.
let that rainbow of music notes pour from your mouth as you laugh.
let your smile radiate happiness for all that is.
let your mind fly with the kites
and your tongue taste the air the birds do.

It’s Okay
to fade into that dark night
that only God can see.
to feel that wonderful, eternal fall
in your stomach
as your roller coaster plummets
so sublimely beautiful from that place up high.
body slipping from the seat,
and letting go,
to be all that there is,
to experience all that exists,
to let the light gleam from those cracks
in your still heart.

to fall and rise with the tide
of that ocean
that carried you away
so delicately,
so gracefully,
so searingly beautiful.
Kathryn Dixon Nov 2012
I do not love you in the most common sense of the word.

I do not love you softly with doe eyes and tender kisses.
I do not love you bravely, for there is nothing brave in my actions or words to you.
I do not love you kindly or sweetly, gently or patiently, considerately or reservedly.

I love you like a storm was loosed on my entire being from my first glimpse of you.
I love you like a match loves to be struck, or like a nail loves a hammer.
I love you like a page loves being scarred by the ink of a pen,
and I love you like a pick loves being scraped across old strings over and over again.

I love you violently, and entirely. But, most of all, secretly.

I love you scorchingly and searingly, as if all the pretty words you've ever bestowed upon me were mere kindling.

I love you like an atom must love the universe, a thing by the grace of which it exists, but a thing also which it couldn't possibly ever grasp.

I love you behind my heart and behind my eyes, to shield such a vulnerable thing from the corrosion and harsh grinding of the world.

I love you brokenly, and bitterly, and for always, because I will not admit to loving you at all.
the countryside is covered
in a blanket of smoke
bush fires are burning
around the Guy Fawk's spoke

some thirty thousand hectares
of land has been fried
farms and parts of the national park
burnt from side to side

fire authorities are working
day and night
to encircle the flames and embers
which so searingly bite

slowly they are winning
the protracted war against the flares
their fire fighting equipment
quelling the inferno's chilling nightmare

within the next few days
the fire shall be extinguished and put out
then the countryside wont be covered
in the smokes choking tout

the air will be as clear as a bell
and less smokiness will stand
all the ashes in the bushland
shall bear testament to the fire's brand
summer
searingly hot
beads of sweat
scorching sun oppresses
roasting

autumn
leaves change
birds start migrating
a time of recess
pensive

winter
snow falls
white across landscape
encased in great coldness
gelid

spring
vivid colors
vivacious garden bed
everything comes to life
brilliant
Seán Mac Falls Jul 2014
How could I not— know . . .
See the noncut of soaring eyes,
Approach, moist, ****** and tidal,
Waves so searingly laden with tear,
Flame, forged in some mythic winter
Frozen as I was, before the rush of ice
And flows of glacier, I heard the loudest
Break of open silence in the seep and roar
Of depths' deepest, dark, coldest ocean waters,
  .  .  .  Before sweet suffocations of the very colour
White and saw the dim fates of fade, emergence of blue,
Hearts drowning.
the countryside is covered
in a blanket of smoke
bush fires are burning
in and around the Rhynie spoke

some thirty thousand hectares
of land have been fried
farms and parts of the National Park
burnt from side to side

the fire authorities are working
by day and by night
to encircle the flames and embers
which so searingly bite

slowly they are winning
the protracted war against the flares
their fire fighting equipment
quelling the inferno's nigthmare

within the next few days the fire
shall be extinguished and put out
then the countryside wont be covered
in the smoke's thick tout

the air will be as clear as a bell
and less haziness shall stand
the ashes in the bushland
shall bear testament to the fire's brand
In many parts of Australia there has been bush fire activity...hence this poem.
Mikaila Oct 2013
Sometimes when I look at you
You are just a girl.
Just a girl, with flaws and dreams and...
Sometimes you're just you,
Nothing dire.
And when you touch me I feel only the comfort
Of another human being's fingertips.
But then sometimes
When I look at you
I love the muscles in your back that look like wings could unfold from them,
That tense like a panther's when you walk,
And the curve of your jaw, the way it's shadowed in the light,
And I get fascinated by the way your lips move when you speak.
And when you touch me you leave scorch marks
In the shape of your hands
And I am searingly cold inside
And I only want you to burn the sadness out of me
Inch by inch.
I don't understand how you can be both.
Seán Mac Falls Mar 2015
How could I not— know . . .
See the noncut of soaring eyes,
Approach, moist, ****** and tidal,
Waves so searingly laden with tear,
Flame, forged in some mythic winter
Frozen as I was, before the rush of ice
And flows of glacier, I heard the loudest
Break of open silence in the seep and roar
Of depths' deepest, dark, coldest ocean waters,
  .  .  .  Before sweet suffocations of the very colour
White and saw the dim fates of fade, emergence of blue,
Hearts drowning.
the countryside is covered
in a blanket if smoke
bush fires are burning
in and around the Rhynie spoke

some thirty thousand hectares
of land have been fried
farms and parts of the National Park
burnt from side to side

the fire authorities are working
by day and by night
to encircle the flames
which so searingly bite
  
slowly they are winning
the protracted war against the flares
their fire fighting equipment
stifling the inferno's nightmare

in a few days the fire
shall be extinguished and put out
then the countryside wont be covered
in the smoke's thick tout

the air will be as clear as a bell
and less haziness will stand
as the ashes of the bush fire
shall bear testament to the fire's brand
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2015
whether a critic or whether a writer, the most popular genre in modern times in the west is either autobiographical, or disguised biographical... i call it ******* literature of the worst kind... some call mere thinking intellectual *******, those ingrained in the thinking that education per se is just that, and expressing it on paper is just that, what a horrid bunch of people, worse of than the religious types, who at least cling to something, the last rite of man worshipping man involved man having to pray to a man suffering on the ultimate geometry that's the cross, so instead of taking the man down from the cross, they did the opposite: 'hang on! hang on just a little bit longer! we'll just add to judas' profit! hang on old chap! we're coming to get you and take you off the cross! we'll just investigate the chance of making profit, creating a pyramidal ecclasiastical order and you'll be off the perfect geometry of intersection in no time!' ****** sadists... where were we? ah yes... autobiographies... the critics and writers summon the words, like: 'i am quite prepared to be searingly, plum honest waiting for the limo under the eye for the insomniac marks of swollen eye about my life...' i'm sure you are, considering the fact you already lived it, and are now about to revise it; it's like watching a bunch of dead people having another stab at life... they lived it, now they're going to write about it, hardly a reason to summon ghost writers, i'm sure, but that's not really automation; memory if a fickle faculty, disrupted by the educational system feeding you useless pythagorean theorems,  memory is subtle, fragile like a snowflake, once it happens, once the imprint is made, it vanishes, and becomes deistorted from the objective reality, which turns the event, any event, into a falsification process, a subjective reality, we cling to pleasant memories because of the pain ahead, and we do something that nature does with its natural selection: selective memorisation. a true autobiography is therefore something that's written without memory, life as it happens, the opposite of painting with its still life tactic... life as it happens... otherwise we're talking literature's post mortem ex vivi / -o (about the hyphen attached to a letter in a moment)... it was simply those two hands of shade with hammer and chisel grinding little trenches of lettering into the gravestone... goth macabra... a dead man writing his own epitaph... so far went his self-knowledge that it became apparent that no one really knew him. hence? the best autobiographies are those with the mundaneity of life's purposes, written as life happens, deviating from what life could be, truly immersed in life as life in deviation from what can be associated with life's purposes requesting other people's involvement; or least that's the sort of autobiography i'd like to read, less lying involved to a peerage of an admirable social status, and more 'in the moment' moments to consider, quiet frankly no ******* of 'gone with the wind,' hence my other joke, less subtle: a book rather than a door - knock knock (actual knocking on compressed wood that's paper) - who's there? - a reader - answer: flick flick flick and no skimmed reading, please!

two concepts i rather avoid,
so i did, i made (i) a priori
into a- priori
and (ii) a posteriori
into a- posteriori,
standard literal dictionary definition
without elaboration places
(i) as: from the one before -
thus the hyphenated activity replaces
literal meaning as:
without the one before -
in the current situation, and with
the current population currency
at above 6 billion - it means
without hercules, adam, abraham,
moses, jesus, etc.
the same goes for a- posteriori,
i.e. without the one after...
and if i'm not being pedantic enough
the distinction between *a
and a-
is that the meaning of the unit in
italics means from, while adding
the hyphen as a preposition to
circumstance it as a prefix changes the
meaning to without-,
given that the priori & posteriori
abide by the sixth definition of the unit
discussed, i.e. before a consonant, p is a consonant,
as much as the word amoral defines proper
a- usage and understanding;
however, the point is not about this,
rather tha activity of what happens when
the dynamic changes, by replacing a / a-
with re- / res.
the resulsts are staggering:

(i)
re- priori                    v.              res priori
again the one                             indivisible thing(s)
before                                         before

(ii)
re- posteriori              v.             res posteriori
again the one                             indivisible thing(s)
after                                            after.

for each there's an example, there's a parallelism
in the res examples, e.g. the sun, the moon, the earth,
mountains can crumble, trees can be cut down
to toothpicks...

the re- examples have a certain ambiguity to them,
give the possibility of a dodo / white rhino extinction,
these example are ordained by an ambiguity
naturally, depending on which factor is stressed more,
whether that be man in a japanese symbiosis
with nature, or whether that be man in a european
symbiosis with nature...
given that the former includes man in nature
and allows a neighbouring,
or with the later, which excludes man from nature
and allows man's egoism to come
crashing down not being able to tame a tsunami.
Seán Mac Falls Mar 2016
How could I not— know . . .
See the noncut of soaring eyes,
Approach, moist, ****** and tidal,
Waves so searingly laden with tear,
Flame, forged in some mythic winter
Frozen as I was, before the rush of ice
And flows of glacier, I heard the loudest
Break of open silence in the seep and roar
Of depths' deepest, dark, coldest ocean waters,
  .  .  .  Before sweet suffocations of the very colour
White and saw the dim fates of fade, emergence of blue,
Hearts drowning.
jayellen May 2017
the oil bubbles under my skin
and i am sinful
he whispers, "baby, sin for me"
and i grin because he has no idea
what fire he has just lit
and i make sure he is
sure
because there is no going back
once the tornado i am is released
from it's butterfly cage
and he smirks and whispers,
"baby, have i ever been uncertain
when it comes to you"
and so i draw the curtains
around us with pencil and pen
and i ask again
if he is sure
and he whispers, "baby, sin for me"

and so i grab a blade
and run it down my tongue
because he likes his girls silent
and so i obtain a gun
**** it and put it on my temple
and pull the trigger
because he likes his girls brainless
and so the oil bubbles out of my mouth
and it spills onto my *******
because he likes his girls hot
searingly so
and so i draw my sword
and cut out my lungs
because he likes his girls breathless
and so i tear a cigarette out of it's pack
and light it
because he likes his girls rebellious
and so i kiss his lips
and rip his tongue out with my teeth
because i want him speechless
and i can tell from his sparkling eyes
that i was more than he bargained for
and so i put myself together
and whisper,
"baby, sin for me"
and leave
for i am sinful.
Seán Mac Falls Oct 2016
.
How could I not— know . . .
See the noncut of soaring eyes,
Approach, moist, ****** and tidal,
Waves so searingly laden with tear,
Flame, forged in some mythic winter
Frozen as I was, before the rush of ice
And flows of glacier, I heard the loudest
Break of open silence in the seep and roar
Of depths' deepest, dark, coldest ocean waters,
  .  .  .  Before sweet suffocations of the very colour
White and saw the dim fates of fade, emergence of blue,
Hearts drowning.
Martin Bailes Feb 2017
Breitabart was permitted entry of course, you know
'Expel All Muslims' Breitbart, & CNN NYT, & LAT were all
held back by some panting freshly-minted Republican staffer & had
to wait all shocked & chagrined at the closed door as one blank dead
eyed maniacally grinning young newly promoted Lieutenant Miller and
one bull-heavy Bannon strutted like obscene vulture marionettes in their favourite special-wear searingly shiny knee-high Wehrmacht boots which had just been licked mirror clean & furiously polished with their very sweat by a heaving gaggle of simpering craven Republican lackeys who had come comically dancing & prancing when summoned from the floor of the so-called People's House with a "yes sir, no sir ... what can I do next sir" to grease the skids on the Fascist Express with the their very blood & the tears of the innocents gathered so fresh that very dawn with no stops till the sun rises on your New World.
.... oh yes indeed.
NCT Oct 2014
leave me alone
I don't want to be lonely
don't leave me alone with myself
my thoughts will destroy me

I will destroy me
in this endless whirlpool of
self destruction
what is this sadness within me?

what is pain?

I've been burning
boiling
I am fire
in a *** of but too many emotions
it's agonizing!
it hurts!
it

doesn't?
my nerves are charred
I feel nothing
I think?

it is silent

you are a passing soul
and you will leave
as swiftly as you came
now you are telling me that
you love me

you don't
you won't
you can't
how can anyone love me
it is impossible

your love is a mixture of
stardust and nectar
and I am a withered flower
cut from my roots

dead?

will you help me
will you save me?
please don't
don't try
stop! please!

wait
I need you
please don't go
don't leave me alone

I cannot be saved
there is nothing in this world
that can take me out of this misery
nothing but.....

please
stop walking away
no! don't!
please turn around!
I beg of you

you promised
you said always and forever
but forever doesn't last
and promises were meant to be broken

this was going to happen
it was inevitable
yet I hoped that you would be different
from the rest

I hoped

but when there's only so much water
you can drain from yourself
before you're searingly barren
before what's best for you is to just

walk away

and I know that
nothing will be different
when the next soul saunters into my life
and I will still hope

all our lives we have been forced
to make promises we don't mean
and we think that we'll keep them forever
we hope we do

but you and I both know that
hope only breeds eternal misery
and the only promise
that will never be broken

is death
Unfaithful marital transgressions
self admitted indictment,
crime and punishment,
no longer think high lee
entailing no mister re: demeanors,
I searingly weathered

(George by bushed, albeit thankfully,
no unwanted child left behind),
nonetheless one unforgettable
indelible, execrable, and abominable
professedly owned his
civil warring battle of life

transgressions undeservedly heaped
(Uriah hit about that)
(carnal feral hormonally seething
gone astray nightwalks)
woven by basket of deplorable
emotionally painful selfish object lesson

forever etched upon mine psyche
(left by one bobbing sponge -
cheeses crust station of his life
within sea of human life now
affixes moniker re: mister *****)
inflicted courtesy yours truly

said marital indiscretion (philandering)
one among many issues discussed,
during treatment plan earlier today
February eighteenth 2020
concerning complex edifice
regarding mein kampf

existential bleak house
(figuratively crowded cheek to jowl)
with and hard times
fraught with many
unattained great expectations
unwittingly accepts psychological fallout

(among kissing kith and kin,
a shellfish chicken and hen thing for sure),
despite years elapsed ex post facto
deploying, incorporating, narrating, signifying...
narcissistic, opportunistic, and phlegmatic
self incriminating doom
visualize deus ex machina

betrayal rendered adopted smugness
invariably set in motion domino effect,
whereby emotional alienation
devastation, humiliation, maturation, suppuration
(yoking impossible mission
to shuck off penitence, the price to pay),

thus rightfully, truthfully, and veritably...
ably, readily, and willingly
allowing, enabling, and providing
incomplete resolution, (hence iresolution)
thwarting rancor thy deux daughters
(livingsocial many time zones distant)
embark quest to guide their own

metaphorical maiden voyaging ships of state
countless transpired hours
at counseling facility, where poetic papa
aired and mulled over bothersome
anguish to complete requisite treatment plan
to receive psychiatric appointment
next (and last) Tuesday of February 2020.
Enshrined for all posterity
mine benediction for reverence,
whereby conflict resolution
ameliorated courtesy peaceable solutions.

An adulation, concatenation, encapsulation,
gratification, introspection, et cetera
encompassing poignant episodes of mein kampf.

Flagrante delict adulterous sordid behavior
automatically linkedin with Lothario;
an unscrupulous seducer of women,
based upon a character
in The Impertinent Curious Man,
a story within a story
in Miguel de Cervantes'
1605 novel, Don Quixote.

Hard to fathom where yours truly
got (seedy – CD) drive and moxie,
after willingly assenting
to pledge sacred marital agreement
courtesy justice of the peace
and Magisterial District Judge:
Henry Schireson
925 Montgomery Avenue,
Suite 100, Narberth, Pennsylvania
19072-1913.

He subsequently and immediately
pronounced myself and the missus
as newlywed groom and bride
freshly minted husband and wife
July twenty fifth nineteen ninety six
until death do us part.

A couple years later,
we acquired our first computer
then snazzy top of the line
state of the art COMPAQ presario
running on Windows 98 operating system,
a belated wedding anniversary present,
whereat wide-eyed, I quickly disc hoovered
plethora pornographic websites
expending energy and time crafting
which hashtagged electronic ejaculations recognized
now as crude sexually explicit
classified personal advertisements
forsaking welfare of marriage and fatherhood
to mine innocent beautiful two little girls.

I blatantly, egregiously, indiscriminately...
whiled away hours shucking off
essentially grievously ignoring
paternal and husbandly duties
instead prioritizing re: cultivating,
cavorting, frolicking, inviting...
romantic (née dangerous) liaisons.

These days majority of time spent online
constitutes crafting anecdotes of mein kampf,
albeit reflecting categorically imponderable poetry
and/or stream of consciousness prose
veritable anonymous readers
probably roll their eyes
at mine trademark double entendre,
yet bard **** (with shaky spear) knows
how inapropos I consider ogling attractive girls
for instance while grocery shopping
with the missus at Trader Joe's,
nevertheless job of this punster
his wordplay accidentally doth impose
so please pardon moi harmless
momentary lapse of rhymed reason

as mine handy dandy
blue veined ribbed slimy fleshy hose
does double duty in tandem with magic wand,
lifelike snaky entity that actually grows
particularly necessary when
burst of fiery secretion flows
intense spray powerful enough
to pulverize knees and elbows
subsequently witnessing yours truly to doze,
an ideal juncture to figuratively close
silently wailing analogy to Moby ****
regarding how yesterdays
prurient laced introductions
to rhyme in retrospect embarrassingly blows.

Herewith to enliven anecdote ever further,
I inject humorous tidbit
just gimme moment to unload and reach
into psychological metaphorical knapsack
particularly blue slimy hose, my keepsake
to forcibly remove *******
birthed courtesy emergency pit stop
without means and ways to clean derriere,
a feeble and futile attempt.

Haint no fallacy
yours truly subsequently secured
more powerful giant accouterment,
while clinging for dear life
perched atop ledger
or edge er domain of clawfoot bathtub,
(ah how convenient and timely
smallish size Jacuzzi getup to appear)
and lemme figuratively
continue (closing) pathetic riffraff
(apropos of nothing) riffling around
mostly strewn with random tchotchkes
and odd bubba's zayda's knickknack
such as ahh... look here hocked wares,
acquired ready to receive paddywhack
giving dog(gerel) bonafied chops.

Without warning be alert
and on outlook for non sequitur
verses asinine blather to blurt
plus quite juvenile grown man here
averse to ***** thought processes of her/him
who might peruse frivolous inane gibberish
cuz precious effort ye exert
to comprehend written contents
alluding to metaphorical little squirt.

I chose to memorialize, alas and alack
atypical/unusual fond memory -
argh, a sudden nostalgia attack
many... countless years gone back
livingsocial at 324 Level Road,
elapsed good times, I can never buyback
Gambone builders demolished complex edifice
currently repurposed mansion manse courtesy
vinyl city as Stella's Way
boyhood address above,
frequently seen dramatically transformed
into aforementioned place name, which property
originally christened Glen Elm,
(within national registries)
yours truly cannot easily callback.
Noggin houses storied detailed information
though I experience exercise in futility
searching Internet, said webbed wide world
absent information when Leipers lived
circa early nineteen hundreds, though
if mine perchance eyes espied absent estate...
slack jawed stare would repeatedly
sow sadness weighing me heart
heavy as coalsack
accompanying sorrow with

attendant flood of tears,
would make an immediate comeback
impossible mission to stopper
feeble, futile and lame counterattack,
where sentimental reverie would
carry me far away to Old Virginny,
for no particular rhyme nor reason
e'en attempting to write
recollections might trigger
tsunami immanent grievous childhood memories

recollecting watching silent home movies,
while chomping on crackerjack
when I had real teeth,
boot the Missus axed me to enliven herself
regaling humorous instances, thus I cutback
to... hardy ***** times, the major drawback
x amount of time elapsed
summoning special occasions
(surgeon general's warning
such mental revisitations)

fraught with onset, where perilous flashback
will moost likely
violently grip cerebral cortex
analogous to puny chap (me)
knocked unconscious courtesy
searingly robust fullback,
nevertheless impossible mission
to restrain waterworks I intend to hijack,
and hoop fully succeed tamping tears
strong suggestion as encouraged by hunchback

from Notre Dame Dublin
known within these neck of woods
as storied Paul Bunyan
also alias Philanderer,
(especially among superficially
prim and proper, but
actually debauched women folk),
whose services regarding payback
best abide, adhere, and afford
to pay forward credo fore playbook.

Said burly lumberjack with severe scoliosis,
nonetheless quite self evident
his outsize implement,
(ye need not axe further questions)
extinguishing problematic residue
iterated further within mine playful ramble.
Autumnal hint faintly tinges air
finding this mortal
     bewitched by blare
ring refulgent radiance,

      which quiets viz cheer
ring, harkening murmuring analogous,
     when Holiday carolers
     happily, gingerly, and

     festively doth declare
punctuating ethereal medium
     melodic equilibrium gently, ineluctably,
     and lightly dust flirtatiously

     kibitz, palpate, and tickle ear
projecting medicinal kissing effusion
     across world wide web
     primal beat linkedin within

     uber tinder shutterfly
     razzmatazz nature
     made renaissance faire,
which brilliant mid

    eve ville theme
     finds me shielding sensitive sight
     against blinding, glomming, and limning
     eye optic cull glare,

thus hands cupped
     visor like impinged
     whatsapp blinking instagram
     reduced vision bolsters hear

ring to increase decibel
(home on the) range
prodigious symphonic production
issuing verdant pastoral themes

billow and flow across terra firma
hallowed ground made sanctimonious  
immaculate mother earth conception
synchronized in symphony with terrestrial
fauna and flora, which life forms abound,
via natural laboratory called Mother Earth
especially at unseasonably

thermally, searingly scorching dawn
make offal spring tide, where multitudinous
existence  strain to avoid extinction
carving out figurative zoological niche

in kaleidoscope of pall luted colors
and funereal sounds galore
idyllic melodic musical sounds compete
against backdrop clanging din

artist palette of rainbow blended spectral views,
sickeningly sabatoged, smeared, and sullied
which unforgiving, twining,
and strangulating manifestations
vaporize, undermine, and traumatize
therapeutic potential restorative
natural environment damaged
ability becalm ming terrestrial sepsis

no longer assuage auditory and
visual sense pleasures respectively
serve as psychic balm against global threat
of life, liberty and happiness triage psalm

rampant forming diabolical deliberate deeds
bred deeply rooted soiled hatred
kudzu resistance asphyxiates human camaraderie
democratic state attacked with no qualm

malicious terroristic plots splatter
(Jackson ******* like) methodical map
blueprint leaves catastrophic trail of red
dire prognostications constitute doomsday scenario
no rocket scientist mentality requisite
grave misfortune writ large for all life.
Flagrante delict adulterous sordid behavior
automatically linkedin with Lothario;
an unscrupulous seducer of women,
based upon a character
in The Impertinent Curious Man,
a story within a story
in Miguel de Cervantes'
1605 novel, Don Quixote.

Hard to fathom where yours truly
got (seedy – CD) drive and moxie,
after willingly assenting
to pledge sacred marital agreement
courtesy justice of the peace
and Magisterial District Judge:
Henry Schireson
925 Montgomery Avenue,
Suite 100, Narberth, Pennsylvania
19072-1913.

He subsequently and immediately
pronounced myself and the missus
as newlywed groom and bride
freshly minted husband and wife
July twenty fifth nineteen ninety six
until death do us part.

A couple years later,
we acquired our first computer
then snazzy top of the line COMPAQ presario
running on Windows 98 operating system no less,
a belated wedding anniversary present,
whereat wide-eyed, I quickly disc hoovered
plethora pornographic websites
expending energy and time crafting
which hashtagged electronic ejaculations recognized
now as crude sexually explicit
classified personal advertisements
forsaking welfare of marriage and fatherhood
to mine innocent beautiful two little girls.

I blatantly, egregiously, indiscriminately...
whiled away hours shucking off
essentially grievously ignoring
paternal and husbandly duties
instead prioritizing re: cultivating,
cavorting, frolicking, inviting...
romantic (née dangerous) liaisons.

These days majority of time spent online
constitutes crafting anecdotes of mein kampf,
albeit reflecting categorically imponderable poetry
and/or stream of consciousness prose
veritable anonymous readers
probably roll their eyes
at mine trademark double entendre,
yet bard **** (with shaky spear) knows
how inapropos I consider ogling attractive gals
for instance while grocery shopping
with the missus at Trader Joe's,
nevertheless job of this punster
his wordplay accidentally doth impose
so please pardon moi harmless
momentary lapse of rhymed reason

as mine handy dandy
blue veined ribbed slimy fleshy hose
does double duty in tandem with magic wand,
lifelike snaky entity that actually grows
particularly necessary when
burst of fiery secretion flows
intense spray powerful enough
to pulverize knees and elbows
subsequently witnessing yours truly to doze,
an ideal juncture to figuratively close
silently wailing analogy to Moby ****
regarding how yesterdays
prurient laced introductions
to rhyme in retrospect embarrassingly blows.

Herewith to enliven anecdote ever further,
I inject humorous tidbit
just gimme moment to unload and reach
into psychological metaphorical knapsack
particularly blue slimy hose, my keepsake
to forcibly remove *******
birthed courtesy emergency pit stop
without means and ways to clean derriere,
a feeble and futile attempt.

Haint no fallacy
yours truly subsequently secured
more powerful giant accouterment,
while clinging for dear life
perched atop ledge er
or edge er domain of clawfoot bathtub,
(ah how convenient and timely
smallish size Jacuzzi getup to appear)
and lemme figuratively
continue (closing) pathetic riffraff
(apropos of nothing) riffling around
mostly strewn with random tchotchkes
and odd bubba's zayda's knickknack
such as ahh... look here hocked wares,
acquired ready to receive paddywhack
giving dog(gerel) bonafied chops.

Without warning be alert
and on outlook for non sequitur
verses asinine blather to blurt
plus quite juvenile grown man here
averse to ***** thought processes of her/him
who might peruse frivolous inane gibberish,
cuz precious effort ye exert
to comprehend written contents
alluding to metaphorical little squirt.

I chose to memorialize, alas and alack
atypical/unusual fond memory -
argh, a sudden nostalgia attack
many... countless years gone back
livingsocial at 324 Level Road,
elapsed good times, I can never buyback
Gambone builders demolished complex edifice
currently repurposed mansion manse courtesy
vinyl city as Stella's Way
boyhood address above,
frequently seen dramatically transformed
into aforementioned place name, which property
originally christened Glen Elm,
(within national registries)
yours truly cannot easily callback.

Noggin houses storied detailed information
though I experience exercise in futility
searching Internet, said webbed wide world
absent information when Leipers lived
circa early nineteen hundreds, though
if mine perchance eyes espied absent estate...
slack jawed stare would repeatedly
sow sadness weighing me heart
heavy as coalsack
accompanying sorrow with
attendant flood of tears,
would make an immediate comeback
impossible mission to stopper
feeble, futile and lame counterattack,
where sentimental reverie would
carry me far away to Old Virginny,
for no particular rhyme nor reason
e'en attempting to write
recollections might trigger
tsunami immanent grievous childhood memories

recollecting watching silent home movies,
while chomping on crackerjack
when I had real teeth,
boot the Missus axed me to enliven herself
regaling humorous instances, thus I cutback
to... hardy ***** times, the major drawback
x amount of time elapsed
summoning special occasions
(surgeon general's warning
such mental revisitations)

fraught with onset, where perilous flashback
will moost likely
violently grip cerebral cortex
analogous to puny chap (me)
knocked unconscious courtesy
searingly robust hypothetical fullback,
nevertheless impossible mission
to restrain waterworks I intend to hijack,
and hoop fully succeed tamping tears
strong suggestion as encouraged by hunchback

from Notre Dame Dublin down on miscreants
known within these neck of woods
as storied Paul Bunyan
also alias Phil Ander er,
(especially among superficially
prim and proper, but
actually debsauched women folk),
whose services regarding payback
best abide, adhere, and afford
to pay forward credo fore playbook.

Said burly lumberjack with severe scoliosis,
nonetheless quite self evident
his outsize implement,
(ye need not axe further questions)
extinguishing problematic residue
iterated further within mine playful ramble
methinks ye uttered vamoose,
hence best make a bee line and hastily scramble.
Avast abundance of life forms
doth snapchat and buzzfeed
a motley fool of indiscriminate creed
resembled yours truly freed
from those scrambling greed
dully sending hotmail google
eyed hungrily ogling indeed
six months later post March 23rd
every herbaceous and woody plant
gets brittle and goes to seed.

Autumnal hint faintly tinges air
finding this mortal
bewitched by blare
ring refulgent radiance,
which quiets viz cheer
ring, harkening murmuring analogous,
when Holiday carolers
happily, gingerly, and
festively doth declare
punctuating ethereal medium
melodic equilibrium gently, ineluctably,
and lightly dust flirtatiously
kibitz, palpate, and tickle ear
projecting medicinal kissing effusion
across world wide web
primal beat linkedin within

uber tinder shutterfly lyft
razzmatazz nature
made renaissance faire,
which brilliant mid
eve ville theme
finds me shielding sensitive sight
against blinding, glomming, and limning
eye optic cull glare,

thus hands cupped
visor like impinged
whatsapp blinking instagram
reduced vision bolsters hear
ring to increase decibel
(home on the) range
prodigious symphonic production
issuing verdant pastoral themes

billow and flow across terra firma
hallowed ground made sanctimonious
immaculate mother earth conception
synchronized in symphony with terrestrial
fauna and flora, which life forms abound,
via natural laboratory called Mother Earth,
especially at unseasonably
thermally, searingly scorching dawn
make offal spring tide, where multitudinous
existence strain to avoid extinction
carving out figurative zoological niche
in kaleidoscope of palm olive colors

and funereal sounds galore
idyllic melodic musical sounds compete
against backdrop clanging din
artist palette of rainbow blended spectral views,
sickeningly sabotaged, smeared, and sullied
which unforgiving, twining,
and strangulating manifestations
vaporize, undermine, and traumatize
therapeutic potential restorative
natural environment damaged
ability becalm ming terrestrial sepsis

no longer assuage auditory and
visual sense pleasures respectively
serve as psychic balm against global threat
of life, liberty and happiness triage psalm
rampant forming diabolical deliberate deeds
bred deeply rooted soiled hatred
kudzu resistance asphyxiates human camaraderie
democratic state attacked with no qualm

malicious terroristic plots splatter
(Jackson ******* like) methodical map
blueprint leaves catastrophic trail of red
dire prognostications
constitute doomsday scenario
no rocket scientist mentality requisite
grave misfortune writ large for all life.
olivia cai Mar 2022
lets pour one out for the kids
who never quite grew into the
“mature for your age”’s and
“pleasure to have in class”’s,

glowing futures hanging from
bony frames like a shirt
a few sizes too big

the kids with molten
gold praise spilling from their skin,
beautiful and
searingly painful,
how icarus must have felt when
the wax ran in rivulets down his back
and the sea opened up to swallow him whole.

the world isn’t so kind to these cookie dough kids
whose edges dont quite fill
out the cutters designed for them
who have no one to blame but themselves
and no one to turn to either.

where do you go when you’re suffocated by
the shadow of places you could’ve gone?
Travis Green Mar 2023
His ungovernable red-blooded thugness
Has me so incredibly ***-hungry
So crunk and punch-drunk
So hung up on his bang-up muscle-bound yumminess
Tall, macho, and chocolate baller
Saucy flawless hotness

He draws me into his crash-hot lava wonderland
Where his fierce sparkling charmingness enthralls me
He arrests me with his devil-red high-pressure entrancement
The way he makes me feel is so surreal
He finesses and possesses my homosexualness

Heats me deeply like a searingly hot furnace
I burn with intensifying passion
Relishing the remarkably extraordinary connection we share
The perfection of friction between our sensual dimensions
How he enslaves my gayness

His molten mind-blowing machoness
Makes me pine to drink his entireness
Like the rarest aromatic amaretto
Delve deep into his impressive depth of evocative exotic flavor
Noticeably dopalicious and lushalicious

Distinctive spicy showstopper
His salty and incomprehensible masculinity
Teases my delicate, pleasant feminineness
Has me longing to be forever close to his eye-opening
And glowing poeticness, bang into his unrivaled gangbuster domain

Envelop me in his dream streaming tempo
Of ****** carnal hotness, his catchy smashing magicalness
Let his deftly delectable gropers move
In slo-mo’ all over voluptuous, soft-looking flesh
Like a deadly majestic cobra

He makes me explode in the throes
Of his ferocious smoldering flowingness
****** me, use me, don’t play it cool with me
Make a move on me more and more
Let me be his naked and defenseless prey

Let him slay my sinfully sizzling sweetness
Feel him breathe up and down my back
Grab my tasty weighty melons
Dominate me exquisitely matchless crests
My rad savage Zaddy, with his massive savage Excalibur

I wanna slide it deep into my throat
Enrapture it, service it, worship it
Let him squeeze my nose tight
While he pushes his **** thick head
Further in my chamber of divine rainbow dreams

On my knees, ******* and licking his thickness
The way he swings it all around my face
Make me taste his heavy-duty tea bag
Got me so thrown off balance
With his radiant commanding splashiness

Let my hot and heavenly breath rest all over it
Devour his delicious dripping precum
Allow my tongue to experience every inch
Of his addictive, gripping turgescence
Take it up another notch, creep into his thoughts and feelings

Give him a killer lit thrill that gives him blissful liquid chills
Let my feelers slither from his shining king-size pecs
To his stellar hairy legs, console his toes, blow him again and again
Make him spill a rich amount of his magick stick milk
All over my cheerful, adventurous lips
Steven L Herring May 2019
Simmer
By Steven L Herring

What's better?
A flash in a pan
or a slow sun rising?
The sweat
and the threat
of a stranger's embrace
and a release
that leads
to emptiness
and a mountain built on lies
or the warmth of
summer's sun
complementing cold nights?

A cure comes crashing
A cascade of cleansing
water
Washing away the guilt
with reckless love
A purity perfectly imperfect

The smell of you

The taste of you

I just let go
and drift into
the thrill of you

The flash in the pan
is searingly painful
but the slow burn
of your rising sun
chases my demons
back into the darkness
they cling to

I'm a legend
of hearsay and circumstance
and you're an angel…
You light my days
and keep the soft glow
of a tank light
to brighten my path
in the dark of night.

If this is what dreams are made of,
then let's stay asleep…
at least until
the sun rises again in the east...
Offspring between close family members
not biologically fit nor ablest
even if direct immediate relations
consider themselves best
buddies, emotionally intimate, and offload
heavy matters weighing down

on their respective figurative chest,
cuz lurking within brethren and cistern genes,
and/or chromosomes dwell deadliest
nastiest, and weakest link undermining
searingly robust reproductive human stock,
thru molecular hijacking gungho extremest

right wing trumpeting malefactor breeding
distilling, fomenting, et cetera the faintest
self destructive invisible agents provocateurs
dredging existentially faultiest
predispositions, and vulnerabilities
compromising in utero body electric,

asper offspring saddled with funniest
itsy bitsy teenie ****** yellow Polka dot bikini
donned flesh impossible to remove,
which surgery could imperil and render feeblest
unto Caesar, an ides of march, sans flimsiest
excuse for a successor

to the royal porcelain throne,
which progeny could exhibit the frailest
constitution, and possibly appear as freakiest
looking hominid this side of Schwenksville
with napped hair most frizziest
affixed to a beanpole gangliest

androgynous cisgender metasexual
being description also including geekiest,
not to mention ghastliest
simple minded looking gruesomest
human being, who presents grimmest

prospects quite dim tubby happiest
bellowing soul since...******
came back in vogue when polar vortex
ushered necessity to bed with kindliest
people professing unconditional love.
Writer of these words,
a former Lower Providence inhabitant,
who dwelled within darkest depths
of Dante Alighieri's inferno
for most of his outlandish, impish,
and devilish growing up years
witnessed microscopic scrimmage,
where spermatozoan with most forcefulness
muscled itself handedly,
magnificently, and splendidly
envision unicellular olympic competition,

yours truly swimmingly
begot during the heat
of parents being passionately fruitful
courtesy diploid erogenous frisson
between my then searingly
robust virile father and fecund mother
~ late March/early April 1958
ushered seminal moment
post ova fertilization realization
courtesy male gamete

penetrating zona pellucida
a glycoprotein layer surrounding the oocyte
triggering cell bait multiplication
subsequently yielding male
gendered offspring and sole son
hashtagged as uber twittering, snapchatting,
shutterflying super duper
cute little boy with short strawberry blond hair,
whose solitudinarian nature
became quite evident when he displayed
acute social withdrawal

upon off fish shill commencement
getting schooled as a grouper
by mister Hooper,
who made his debut
appearance on Sesame Street
November 10, 1969
as storied and staple long time resident
on above named television show
until March 18, 1983,
beloved by adults and children alike

within make believe community
(a conglomerate of real and imaginary locales)
peopled with proprietary named characters
for any of a number of humorously grotesque
glove or rod puppets and marionettes,
chiefly representing animals,
first popularized, idolized,
dramatized, capitalized, and actualized
by the children's television programme
Sesame Street (1969-) and more recently
in The Muppet Show (1976-80).

Also: a toy made to resemble one of these
ingenious brainchild of Jim Maury Henson
an American puppeteer, animator, actor,
and filmmaker who achieved worldwide
notability as the creator of the Muppets
which series originated as two pilot episodes
produced by Henson for ABC in 1974 and 1975.

Henson's shocking, sudden death occurred on May 16, 1990 of ***** failure resulting from streptococcal toxic shock syndrome. An emotional memorial service was held five days later at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City.

— The End —