"secrete" poems
Sweet death, have me tarry not,
greet me, for comes the morn.
Cheat the sun, that I may sleep,
complete as if ne'er born.
Entreat, do I, your embrace.
Defeat my heartbeat this night.
Meet me mid a last dreaming,
secrete this soul from sight
Oct 23, 2011
Oct 23, 2011 at 9:14 PM UTC
Write yourself a letter
make yourself feel better
all of your imagined flaws
give them a round of applause
Put down all your good deeds
when you helped someone in need
give yourself a pat on the back
it will help when you've veered of track
Secrete it in a special place
when the day or yourself you can't face
replace tears with a smile
if only for a little while
Self-praise is not always wrong
we can keep our self-esteem strong
life will give us enough knocks
whatever you do give it socks
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 6:13 AM UTC
You hide in plain sight as does day when engulfed by night
For darkness is simply…. The absence of light
You claim to have special enlightenment
And that your knowledge is for the better good of the people
Pledge your allegiance and your success will be imminent
Break your pledge and your death will be discrete
So why would you become part of something so “elite”?
With only one thing in mind; to see the human race in defeat.
An interminable amount of subliminal messages
Hinting at events that are destructive, demoralizing, and deceptive.
9/11… was it really an act of terrorism?
Or was it just an evil plot… something you guys expected?
Al-quaeda and the Taliban… roaming around in the lands of Iran
But on the land I walk some say it’s a misperception
Just a façade in our brain so the government secrets are protected.
Michael Jackson… and the Kennedy assassination
Were they both untimely events in American history?
Ghandi, The King, Malcolm X, Princess Diana, Shakur,
Paul, Marley, the Kennedys’, Lennon, Fredinand, Lincoln!!
All of whom were either at your feet or tried to make your secret secrete
These deaths… from assassination to suicide… were all… “unfortunate” to the human eye?
Or were they “fortunate” for the Eye of the Beholder?
But why go to such great extent to have these powerful and influential people wiped from the human race?
To keep a secret that has been soooo well kept for hundreds of years?
A secret society that is not so discrete… anymore
Hidden in plain sight and away from the human eye…..
Trying to keep a disguise that will lead to our eventual demise
You aren’t doing the world any favors
By keeping an explicitly intricate order in store
You’re favoring your own world under one order
By intricately deceiving the minds of innocent citizens
So, you hide in plain sight, the light of the earth
A light you hope one day becomes permanently dark
Cause once again, darkness is only the absence of light.
With no light, we will be forced at the feet of your might
Despite a fight, with no light and your might, we’re all just mites stuck on your flight of new world order.
Well let me just end on this… **** THE ILLUMINATI!
Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 12:52 PM UTC
The GLOBE hath gone infected
Media mobs
MOGUL infected
Bilderberg GODS!!!
Mother's shalt turneth against daughter's
And father against son
RISE of thine technology oh man
For thou shalt looseth by thine own guns
Thou shalt SCREAM PEACE...
Ourn savior hath come
ANTICHRIST beast
To the one's who chooseth dumb
CHIPS in thy hand's
Shackled at the feet
BURIED in sand
Defecation SECRETE
Babies shalt HOWL
No **** to be given
I bet I'll be gone
This time
By THANKSGIVING
Liveth out thy life,
PAY presidential bills
Down thy DRINK
Swallow thine pills
Mocketh me if thou WILT
Awaketh human slave
The CHAPTER is coming
To the end of thine DAY'S!!!!
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 11:31 PM UTC
On the night of initiation,
curves of pale luster began to gleam unwrinkled from the darkened divots along the lunar surface
A perspective unseen for so long, it was viewed as a defaulted “wink” on the face of the moon
And therefore, forgotten, unmentioned, until it’s means were sought
From days ‘fore, and long since now dust
Scribing authors, secrete beads of frenzy into ink filled phial
Sending tremors down, into the quill tip
Filling scrolls for permanence in a preemptive defense against continuous unraveling thoughts would befall
this fluency into incoherent clutter
Pioneers of preprint in a provoking tome,
would speak educated reasons why these areas of Moon had been locked under sealed dark punishment
since Empedocles mixed cosmic elements to breed an undeniable proving truth
Exhibiting the myth of danger
alongside
The established absolute and supervening fizzling sunset
proving the existence of love...
—————————————————-
“Since I have given you words from my within
like the ecliptic rising and burning massive,
Our mutual visibility of late is either one-sided
or
short lived
I’ll take a detour around the comforts of romance
And try to talk my way into your pants
By tossing at you, letters squeezed together,
for your minds transcription into the heart of my subliminal write
In hopes you’ll feel a trickling gush
If I get really lucky these words will find you like a volcano erupts a ****
The same way water, beating against years of stone can fall
And crash through a dam with pouring force so insatiable it’s territory is marked in history
Jun 22, 2019
Jun 22, 2019 at 11:09 PM UTC
Melatonin is a conduit,
a flux for regeneration;
an endocrine neurohormone
that really only likes to secrete
when the Eyes are not stimulated;
that is to say
Sleep and Meditation
in this way
are Medicine of the Body.
Sleep more;
****** Self!
Sleep more.
If not, at least
Meditate more.
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 7:59 AM UTC
(Scene 1)
Everything was all in slow motion after getting the call
Preparing myself for what it is I will witness next
Suddenly I find myself slowing my walk to a crawl.
I read it over and over through the graphic text
Precised detailed instructions with vivid accounts
Chapter nineteen was written in words that were perplexed.
In the protective cushion of my mind
A hidden secret that is buried deep starts to come alive
Am I awake or am I am asleep?
So confused for I'm beginning to think,
When I dream is it real and when I'm awake is it a dream?
I now feel something starting to trickle and secrete inside me
In the base of my skull I feel the pain.
A pine cone shaped gland is now convulsing and quivering
It causes me to dream at night and it always showed me the truth
It gave upon me the gift of prophesy
and all the answers to life's many mysteries
also in my transformation it turned me into a clever soothsayer.
Why me, why was I plagued?
I know it will happen for the last time in my life
A pleasant and peaceful journey it will take me
As soon as I give up the fight and race through the dark tunnel heading to the light.
An imaginary horror movie now begins to play
Given me visions of what I will see before the end of the day.
I know where I am going; I know what I am going to pick up
Yes I have a clue on just what I am getting into.
A dog whistles sound I hear the constant ringing in my ears
I always see the vapors around my face
Drifting like smoke in my peripheral sight I see them all dance.
I'm I hearing voices in my head or am I going insane?
In an instant blink I am catapulted into a cold room
Thirty nine bags deep in there frozen slumber they laid
No matching numbers with tags could be found
Through another set of double doors I enter
Exposing another four all sprawled out on silver tables.
My eyes now become fixed on the bizarre hollow sight
Of the one's with the harvest of their spongy matter.
Absorbing all the sights and smells
I now found what I came looking for
In a rush to see what’s in my grab bag
I race now to get him out the door
and to stop stepping on with my new shoes,
All the blood that is upon the floor.
To be continued.......
(SirCARSr. 10-24-12)
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 12:17 PM UTC
Polished off the filler rods
now lifes got me dreaming
soley about the silver lining
the spooning of the woman on the moon
Keep mapping the schematic, the big move
heading straight to the oil soaked cash
Ready again to make the great dash
This time I'll save my dimes
for those unavoidable hard times
I'll pile it under my matress
a secrete stash thats all mine
Work my *** to the bone
by welding up a storm
Sitting all leathered up
on my light weaver throne
To meditate and consentrate
on 13 times the suns bright
Keep the eyes focused and fixate
count to ten when the mechanics frustrate
Troubleshoot the lines of life
fix the issue then
collect the lute.
Dec 18, 2011
Dec 18, 2011 at 6:14 PM UTC
I could tell what you were thinking
********** me with
Lust-filled eyes
Drowning me with naughty thoughts
and an animalistic desire
as you crept closer,
licking your lips seductively
like a lioness moving in
for the ****
I don't think you realized how bad I wanted you too.
The little whimpers and whines of want
you would secretly secrete in my vicinity
made my heart maniacal
because I knew I would not
have you that night.
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 3:41 AM UTC
A birthday surprise that will arise
The Eiffel Tower bliss
It will require a guest list
A marriage proposal in the works
One family member is giving a dream come through
But the question being will there be a Yes or No in the slew?
The romance has been going for a while
The man is pulling all the stops in being his style
An engagement ring full of love
News will be spreading like a secrete dove
All the blessings one could think of
France being known for romance
A couple’s moment at every chance
The Eiffel Tower bows
Heaven’s praise being from thou
A Son’s Mother who will arrive in Paris soon
The Mother wants to see up close and personal of this romance engagement tune
Paris with a night smiling moon
Good luck to the Newlyweds to be
The couple has God’s eyes coming from thee
But for family in the USA, we will have to wait and see.
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 4:31 PM UTC
___FLUFF:___
_Frequently, I discover words with hidden meaning, shining like coins in a handful of fluff, apple seeds and other down-the-back-of-the-sofa leavings. Some are too precious to share and I secrete them away. Others I spend cheaply on rigged slot machine verbiage. Mostly they sit waiting to be written usefully. Adding insight, lending moment to my day._
§
___NONSENSE:___
_Foraging amongst the dahlias
For Cinderella’s lost slipper,
I am Barbie magic made manifest,
I am Germaine (sodding) Greer’s antifem,
I am Super Mum with gumboots on._
§
___ABSURDITY:___
_The best nonsense is always spoken in the middle of the afternoon while heading north on a train bound for a smallish beige town, and so it was that the occupants of second-class carriage BG1754 found themselves gripped by a kind of eloquent hysteria as they rattled around the final bend in the tracks before the steep descent to the weatherboard station at Claggy Peat._
Apr 3, 2021
Apr 3, 2021 at 3:51 AM UTC
It was a momentary encounter
Just a momentary thought
A moment which was wasted
A moment that didn't matter
I pushed myself into the hands of another mistake
I pushed myself into another ditch full of fire and thorns
I said I didn't really care
But in that moment, I didnt know that secrete was there
Am I now on the sideline
Or am I just one big waste
Am I just someting you once wanted that you couldn't have?
Am I just too hard to get and you don't think I'm worth the fight?
Although I'd never kiss you
Although I'd never want to be with you
I just wanted that feeling...
Of being wanted.
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 7:19 PM UTC
Drug; he controls my brain.
He stirs an irresistible blend of chemicals in my body and convinces me to fall for him; he increases blood flow to the primitive areas of my brain and activates the circuits responsible for love and desire.
Adrenaline; he balances my stress.
He keeps my heart strong and healthy as thoughts of him and us dominate me and excite me, prompting me to get tachycardia (fast heart rate above 100 bpm) and my blood pressure to rise.
Dopamine; he regulates my focus.
He stimulates desire and triggers pleasure in me; I remember everything about us, then forget about my surroundings; I am motivated to please him, then I daydream and become unable to stay on task.
Serotonin; he stabilizes my mood.
He charms and induces me to perspire and relax, crave and distance him, lose and gain sleep, feel pain and relief, get happy and upset, and decrease and increase my immune system functions.
Medication; he forces my loveswept cells to go haywire.
He has cured my lovesickness, shooed away my regrets, helped me move on from my past, boosted my (self-)confidence, made me look forward to tomorrow, and offered me a ticket to bliss.
Oxytocin; he enables me to produce lovestruck hormones.
He affects my moral molecules as he attracts my undivided attention, pushes me to trust him, raises attachment and empathy, brings psychological stability, and encourages me to want to be closer to him.
Vasopressin; he causes me to secrete lovetastic chemicals.
He renders me monogamous and continues to have me hooked onto him; he makes me thirst for him, display amorous behavior, defend him and us, and maintain a strong partnership.
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 7:18 AM UTC
Humidity permeates the atmosphere,
A silhouette in the dark,
As it rides the pillar,
Moans of pleasure,
The sweetest music.
The head slides in,
Stretching the body,
Penetrating the mid drift.
The juice of a lady,
At the whim of gravity,
Glides across the shaft.
Strength of Hercules,
As the knife enters the skin.
Eyes look into the mind,
Fantasies of everlasting love,
As the upper lips
Perform ********
Stress relief
For not one but two.
Juices secrete from one to another.
The day time friend,
The all night lover.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 5:17 AM UTC
At an angle of ninety degrees,
two trees share the same plot.
This one grazes the eaves,
seeking vain attention in the window glass.
The other, its grey ghost lazes
prostrate on the herb garden, reveling
in secrets of lemon balsm and thyme.
At night, the first becomes demonic,
obliterates the universe,
branches scraping the pane, scratching
like fingernails on slate,
its coppery leaves trying to get in.
Its partner slinks to earth,
seeking solace,
wringing conterminous roots till sunrise.
I've had my fill of these unrested moments
fighting the pillow, not settling.
There is no joy in seeking stolen stars.
My dilemma grows horns.
I half dream of ******
at least amputation.
But even the dimmest light shines in the dark -
I consider its tormented destiny.
At daybreak, like a ****** I scale its gnarled branches
ridiculously one-handed,
the other a keen-toothed weapon.
I am an agile goat shinning upwards
feeding on dreams of peace.
Lost in the sky, I become sap,
melt into its arms,
(a vertiginous release)
I become a curved branch.
(There's someone standing in my elbow!)
Leaves helix down, settling on autumn crocus.
“Look! Gold on gold!"
The grey ghost yawns, grows its shadow,
waves its arms demanding justice.
I wave back.
Suddenly terrified, I secrete an invisible scent.
The branches contract, tense as ligaments.
My heart plummets, rolls out recumbent,
presses heavily on the earth
listening to fleshy roots recede.
A few deft cuts......
Sun gutters through bereft spaces,
striking the window.
Both trees a shade lighter, a lighter shade.
Tonight I will dream under visible stars,
feel the moon's half-light slide over me.
copyright © Caroline Grace 2012
Mar 2, 2012
Mar 2, 2012 at 12:12 PM UTC
A world chock-full of desolate,
To pride of supposed joy I scurry.
A world plenteous of seclusion,
To hubris of felicity I secrete.
A world so stuffed of vain,
To narcissism of hope I scamper.
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 8:25 PM UTC
Just looking at you
barefoot in my tiled kitchen
floor, makes me so weak.
And when you step out
of the shower after bath
oh, makes me secrete.
You, pointing your toes
when you put on your stockings
makes me lick my lips.
Oh, I love your feet.
And I love your legs too and
Oh, I love your feet.
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 9:24 AM UTC
I keep fondling dreams as I
flip through FOX, CNN and MSNBC networks.
An electric lady land fantasy
of revolutions where over and over and
under and through inconsistent gibberish of
conservative conversationalists’ and
liberal libel is taken for truth.
My heart is pumping out toxic fiber optic
editorial journalistic pollution like kidneys
secrete the habit of alcohol and
cigarette poisons.
Our dependence on government help is
broken glass shards ruining the
veins of society
while Limbaugh, and spring chicken heads with a
View are enslaving our voices and
limiting the truth of our choices using
eminent domain for our minds as they spit out
their opinions through television and radio
frequencies into our brain waves as truth.
How some American hearts stay warm with
nightly news schisms, burning intolerance,
unreal realism, religious sincerity posed
and limp **** ****** commercials
is amazing. But still a paradox hoax.
May 24, 2010
May 24, 2010 at 3:15 AM UTC
for me it's still the memory
of travelling on the no. 86 bus
to school, really
loving robert plant's song
darkness, darkness
and morning dew reading
voltaire - both songs from the
album dreamland -
a compensation for the last album
by led zeppelin having exhausted
their togetherness of stating something,
i don't know why i sided with
collecting the oeuvre of led zeppelin
and not black sabbath -
but still that bus journey that took
about an hour and two buses -
across cold crisp green belt, just sitting
there listening to music and reading
a book, while the same of rosa parks'
effort sat in the back (as usual) jabbering
like parrots and not stoic enough
to place all our supposed origins -
rosa parks, your effort became futile -
your kindred still preferred the back
of the bus, where they could get rowdy
with girls who'd not **** me, thanks,
i can't be bothered to live a white girl,
i'll stick to the art,
now i couldn't walk down a high street
eyeing shops' content holding her hand
without being too irritated and wishing
to run into a forest
and swim in fallen autumnal leaves
smelling the sweetness of death
where death sweet, the only sweetness
of death is among autumnal leaves fallen,
this strange Aphrodite, this
strange autumnal Aphrodite sea, this sea
of leaves, and i have, fallen into it
and swam in it in the brisk cool of night
when this sea is most porous to
secrete the perfume a dead body of a man
or fox could never do;
O the sweet scented dead sea of the
autumnal Aphrodite balding and shedding leaves,
to litter the forest floor, and me
slain in it nonetheless still living -
parisian perfumeries can hide and squalor in shame
compared to the odour of the autumnal Aphrodite sea
of dead leaves beneath the craniums of alveoli
sketches of the naked trees.
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 6:49 PM UTC
I’m trying to escape this fate.
That these people laid out for me.
They attack and the make,
What I do not want to fake.
Its their fault I say,
That the sad people are forced to smile,
That the dead people are forced to hell,
That my sins are forever and awhile.
I want to make you laugh,
And yet I only make you sappy.
You pity me and secrete my very being,
You look down from your perch on high,
And you tell me what is what,
And who I’m supposed to be.
But it is not written in stone.
And I’ve never been very friendly.
If I come across a fork in the road,
Heck, I’ll make my own.
Don’t follow me either,
I want anyone to beleaguer.
But isn’t it sad you think,
That deep inside,
I realize in my self conflicatory mise,
That I have only my shadow to reside beside,
Only my mind to hide behind.
The scars they run deep,
And with every shallow heart beat,
I realize I’ve lost my life already,
Just standing still waiting.
You try to create,
You try to leave something behind,
But you fail in every image you make,
With every mistake a little bit more irate.
You’re a failure, its meaningless, to no try to fake.
Just give up, desist, do not resist.
Be like me say one thing and do another.
Forget.
Mar 30, 2010
Mar 30, 2010 at 12:01 PM UTC
Sometimes a hollow hug hurts
a buzz word stings
like a game of blame and acid shame
and the very venom we secrete
stills a heart of a simple beat
to hold and to perish
a love well-worn
to fold and to cherish
a beast forlorn.
Jun 18, 2011
Jun 18, 2011 at 7:19 AM UTC