"secreting" poems
It has been a while since we've spoken
I have been tugging on a broken line
May be too gone this time, Lord
Been too low to be grounded
My demons dancing in a conga line
I am surrounded
You made me in your image
But what if I don't like what I see?
Is that insulting?
Is that absurd?
I made almost all my angels flee
It keeps me knocking on heavens door
So tell me, are you listening??
I'm not feeling assured
They say you turn water into wine,
But none of that tonight
I can settle for a bitter cup of coffee,
For a bitter state of mind
To keep me up so I won't dream of
Grandparents who can't walk
Or my lifelong companion
In a wild dogs jaw
Or an angry pair of sapphire eyes
I know I've failed them all
Water into wine, maybe two or three
Will make me numb enough to remind me
Of what their love was like,
Like the warm screams secreting
From my windpipe, do you hear me now?
Can you listen to me tonight???
I know I can be cowardly disciple, even a sheep
In lions clothing- wasn't your book written for
People like me
No, I don't want to be
Self loathing, another fallen angel
You lose hope in, don't let me go
Off the deep end, let the bitterness
I've been sipping on be sweetened
Please
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 5:21 PM UTC
Peoples’ lives are dying in consistency;
Greed in their pedestal has corrupted this world’s societies.
A fruitful opportunity, a gold rush was encountered!
Underlying the main ambition of many unfortunate ambitious desires.
Persistently seeking an object of materiality,
Children have become contracted to labor endlessly till mortality.
The corporate pose has overshadowed humanity,
Predetermining existence through living in a vision of obscurity.
Freedom has evolved in many attaining their dreams,
Yet, failing to realize their limits in overstepping boundaries.
Morality has been compromised to new opportunities.
Ultimately, corrupting one’s essence in living spiritually.
We have eluded to perceive the subtle communication they have established you see.
Projecting honesty while planting a seed, they enrich themselves invulnerably.
Enabled through the loophole of ignorance attracted by social mediocrity,
Revealing a battle between each other secretly disguised as insecurity.
Asking how do I seek success, freedom, and happiness endlessly.
Indubitably, the answer relies inside, secreting awareness internally.
Discovering that the war begins within may end the violence indeed.
Extinguishing eternal destruction of the world through peace and harmony.
By: Michael M. De La Fuente
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 7:47 PM UTC
the cherry blossom accord/equation
”perfumers use aromachemicals to recreate a cherry blossom accord...(an accord is a scent made up of individual aromachemicals, that when combined, create a harmonious blend where none of the individual ingredients are able to be detected on their own).”
the odor of our lustful eyes,
the sweat, a unique commingling,
a sheen of salted oils body bathing,
crushed green petals of peaches,
crumbled together with the softy fuzz shavings,
the sediment of aromatic fruit juices drippings
our blending bottled in our brains,
none other would recognize but we,
to too two smell each other through and over
floors, concourses, cities, disparate distances
our ingredients secreted (secret),
our flavors cell secreted (secreting)
the world’s silly tittering aroma inserted,
our sparking fingertips touching
add a bush burning burnt odiferous
we seat across from each other in an airport
plastic restaraunt and everyone asks out loudly,
what is that smell, feed me that, taste me that,
as we are irradiating the atmosphere,
as we renegotiate our cherry blossom accord,
fresh signatures, updated, harmony of harmonies, notarized
she smiles, I joke, winking,
we must continue
to meet like this,
the fireworks of we,
of us,
to-gather to-gether,
a getting of giving,
she answers:
*take me home and
bathe me in love,
give our bodies shelter
from the world outside,
beside a new spice
have I uncovered,
this will require some
discussion+exploration,
the quantity to be added,
the when, and the how!*
what is this new ingredient?
asking puzzled and aroused,
she laughs
(a spice already included),
why it’s called
only love poetry
8/23/19 4:55pm
Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 5:06 PM UTC
"The thought of the future we will never have was pollinating foul fuzzy particles in the air, slowly following the wake of all those tasseled dreams I had held onto for all those years but had to let go."
The most intimate revelations can often expose plagiaristic suppressions that we've most likely tried to already forget. Suggesting to anyone on the outside looking in, that there is a rancid cowardice secreting from the pores of all those who would deny the most basic of fundamental decencies to their fellow man.
All the while, boasting a loud tolerance that would be found on the very last Autumn-the very last colorful arrangements of watering oranges and smothered reds our world was ever going to be privileged to witness again.
The thundering drumming of my own beating heart gave my freshly dead and bland reaction a neon personality, with a few extra ********* lingering, successful gestures that reflected a sparkly prism of tracers.
Tracers that were birthed from the most brilliant of lasers, as I was radiating something that was blindingly gorgeous, something that was heightened with more sensitivity as it shadowed over the complexity of every kiss that I had ever been given in my life..
Spinning a silk and gold web around me that was almost as intricate as an alarm sounding earth quake.
This flaccidly tight response came at a price, leaving nothing but whispers and the wrong kind of impressions at the sight of it's unwanted face..
The time of dignity and grace felt decades away as your tiny little temperaments began to attempt to soothe me into a very still silence.
"Wooing" me and "seducing" me with such a strong touch of romantic readiness, I knew it would never be matched or found again causing me to feel a stroke of sadness at the single sentiment.
This dramatic departure killed any interest that might have supported the abortive sorrows and short winded elation’s of men, but instead the idea of a possibly new tasseled dream, sparked me into a shimmering prism bouncing glittering, glimmering, glowing rays off my skin, as I put the shine in the sun.
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 3:30 PM UTC
Pyres of cityscapes burn contingently in the distance
ever drunk with blood of a mother, a nurturer who asks
nothing of the morose, self-consumed existence
she cares for. Her brow cocked,
wrinkles descend like
rain that tears down
a window.
Pain.
You're bleeding out! But she'll never put herself
forefront. How could she? Sitting, reflecting.
Tormented by incompetence, her soft
voice silently flutters the leaves.
Drearily an extension of her lips, the words
escape the cusps like a cautious prairie-dog.
Smog obscures
the senses, a haze
darkening the pupils of your celestial eyes.
I still see You
drooping in the rocker under a hard light. Retaining know-
ledge of past and present, through spectacles.
Her deflating **** secreting
concrete into the sucklings, cementing fate,
as the clock that hangs above her falters. I shutter to think of the
future that's afore. When the one who's raised me is not.
No more.
Your timber limbs look awfully thin. Restless and alone,
she's tired. "Abandoned"
we're all alone,
but your company means more to me than a sustainable
stone.
May 10, 2010
May 10, 2010 at 8:31 AM UTC
i am of the light
despite
my shroud
that crowds the villains in the toppled telemetry of my steeds
galloping gallantly from the burning cities of my dreams
i shall gleam from her or he
that which delivers
their truths faithfully to their dreams
open wounds turn invitation
in the pity of hungry thieves
who dared to dream
of peasants king-ed.
as we sing
sing
of desperation
in passionate confessions
of jaded wisdom
passed on through every failure
never to falter
in the betrayals of Walters
lost
in loss-less flac files
i have miles to go
smiles to grow
daggers projectiles
from mild mannered children
freshly ridden
of maniacal miracles
spiritual
but not stupid
we are troopin
this lucid movement
grooving
to the repetition of the drum
the gas blow back of a gun
the bursting bubbles of bubble gum
having fun
i learnt goodly on the run
learned nothing in victory
learned nothing in simplicity
complacently
snickering it all away
bullet by bullet
case by case
and eventually the blade
in my compassionate displays
we shall congregate
and hate ourselves
**** the donks to hell
dwelling on the cellar doors
that darkos teacher adored
in verbal massacre
of the written literature
of cracked brain fixtures
seeping the lines
in cold tingles
down the spines of maniacs
just relax
mix it down on a track
spit the thesis into pieces
through the creases of cracked sneakers, and out the speakers
of trouble seekers.
mistakes make us
deliberate chaos
tossed
upon the fakers
who cry to think
the dream
became a reality
mistake us
for serrated blades that rip the hearts from beasts
sometimes i stop to think
while having a drink
conclusive brinks
of sanity creaks
of my humility
secreting
frivolously
the disposing of my jealousy
of your feelings
hellaciously
i rip a felony
from a face
in appealing agony
antagonizing me
in the frenzied forensics
of my oblique
outlooks
none of us
were ever crooks
speaking to self
while being booked
in hell
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 1:36 AM UTC
Lilies and wine.
You're drunk with love.
And night's all shine.
So you starve and you crave.
Just a little bit more of Cupid's touch.
Puffed smoke hearts surrounding the time.
Present once more the universe sparks in your soul.
Lousy noises melting into harmonies so fine.
Lilies and wine.
You're drunk with love.
And night's all shine.
Your heart's secreting the serum of life.
Love is filling the hourglass of your time.
Now the pearl has found its light.
No pressure but weightlessness abounds.
Lilies and wine.
You're drunk with love.
And night's all shine.
Hold on firecely, lose yourself in beautiful time.
Tears of love and joy heal your wounds.
Flowers all fine, one you are, floating on air.
Swept out of reason, but your heart is too fine.
Lilies and wine.
You're drunk with love.
And night's all shine.
Capture the flower in your arms.
And drink the serum like wine.
Love is uplifting, and bare, taking you swiftly.
Aug 2, 2011
Aug 2, 2011 at 3:54 AM UTC
Philosophical epistemology strumming adventures
Albeit, coherent mental decoding stratifications structured
Supposedly our world rests in our minds, revolving knowledge
An entwine of conceptual abstract flowing within oneself
The mind in the “I” the “I” a reality lived in my experiences
George of Leontini, a mine mind approving solipsism exploring innatism
Imaginative insights that nothing exists, the secrets secreting secrets
The knowledge behind the veils that remains un-communicated
A reverse of normality and known existences, moral disposition
Hypothesis of depersonalizations, adventures of self internalization
Justifications for what lies outside the Medulla Oblongata
Skepticism and just alternatives to western philosophy
Subjective unapproved experiences only robust in one’s mind
Descartes abstraction of inner experiences, reciprocated paradigm
Intuitively, perceived lived formulations of "Cogito Ergo Sum"
Psychological conscious undoubted individualistic thoughts
Berkley explored perspectives that physicality is an embodiment of the mind
The mind a decoding visualizer, that encompass the non-existent
An idealism marriage of ‘metaphysical’ and epistemological philosophy
The intense esoteric “dualism” verses the fiery “monism” reality
Mind boggling differentiated truths bleeding with blinking unresolvable hypothesis
The jiggered methodological, streamlining the un -logic sequential beats
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 11:56 AM UTC
In the garden in Corniche
In the playground bound by a metal fence,
While the Arab teenage kicks the ball,
The feet of the Sudanese, sitting on the stone bench nearby
Start prickling;
Cries out that
For one who knows how to score goals,
The hunger to kick a ball
Is the ultimate one!
Me? I shall remain nameless!
The fisherman
Whose whole body tingles
As he espies a shiver of gigantic sharks
Even while swimming for life,
Having lost his boat and fishing net in the deluge,
The nun, whose ******* start secreting
As she watches a bawling baby,
Standing amidst toddlers of the nursery
The swimmer,
Who crawls through the desert
On camel-back
I do not ask for anything else
Just the ball and the opposition
Let a thousand, or tens of thousands come,
Let the goal-mouth
Be miles distant,
I do not ask for anything else
Once, while carrying a load of cement
On the tenth floor,
For a moment,
A moment,
The sun tempted, as a huge ball.
The scar of the beating received
While dribbling the sun on the sky meadow
Remains on the back..
There are ***** anyone can play with.
No, all surges ahead
Do not end in goals.
There are no games that do not have ‘foul’ -
Even in dreams.
There are no Arab children
In the playground now.
Jut the ball, ball, ball alone.
It scurries hither and thither
By itself,
Races outside,
Speeds towards the goal-mouth,
Sometimes ducks out of sight.
Very privately,
And even more secretly,
Ball smiled at me.
A shudder of incarnations
In my toes.
As soon as the ball and feet
Left the playground,
Two legs
Started dancing,
Betwixt twilight and night.
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 12:57 AM UTC
The dark and devilish nature of her words
Strike my soul with bone crushing impact
Delivering me to unfathomable heights
Soaring beyond valleys of unspoken truths
I swear I could feel the searing pain secreting
From the puddles of ink unmercifully ***********
From within her little black pen of revenge
A cold, hard case of poetic justice iced my veins
Slashing fiercely through the tender tissues of my heart
Leaving a dreadful scar of excruciating scorn
Forever embedded in what was once a sacred home
It was as if a voodoo ritual was taking place
Possessing every inch of my flesh successfully
Soaking my skin with tsunamis of fear
Compelling my body to dance with the spirit
As I danced to the rhythm of the drums
A cloud of smoke was blown to distort my vision
In the wake of the smoke I began to hallucinate
The image of a **** harlot equipped with a machete
Appeared before my eyes taking me by surprise
Ready to slaughter and **** all who oppose her
And rob them of their oh so precious manhood
She pressed her lips against the blade then blew a kiss
The kiss caressed my lips with the taste of honey
By the swift blow of a gentle breeze she was gone
When I returned from this coma of entertainment
A severe addiction was unmistakably evident
My taste buds craved for more of this woman's literature
I had fallen victim to her powerful hex of poetic justice
By Glenn McCrary
© 2011 Glenn McCrary
(All rights reserved)
Oct 18, 2011
Oct 18, 2011 at 6:28 AM UTC
Mos Def addict practicing my mathematics
multiplying gross deaths stacking high in my attic
banishing, your batting eyelashes in my hatchet
brandishing a reflection of death nothing can match it,
a packet of matches, three cans of gas am I mad *****
I’m a man mastering cracks of dark arts from a sad witch,
tears of evil, blasting apart marked hearts, sew they can’t stitch,
so I can cross your eyes and harvest every last inch
of your body I’ve got hauled high with my crass winch.
Dangling like abattoirs meat hanging upside down by your feet,
never is the time that I will retreat,
secreting discreetly in your petite physique,
desecrated secretly I never cease with the heat.
I’m a clever beast with the sweet smile of a pre-school teacher
I’m a leach, I’m an evil preacher,
I’m worse than a priest with someone not quite senior in reach.
I beseech you to keep my smile in mind when I breach
the regular limits of sin, an when the victim begins
spinning within the rhythm of my limb precision
positions a physician would think weren't natural
constructions. Causing concussions with my bone crack percussion
discussing the disgusting repercussions of being obstructive
with a kind as destructive as mine its reductive to imply
that I’m stuck with a mind superior to thine, let the subtleties shine,
you’re an inferior design, obsolete, so the premise is supremacist
there’s no preventing this, the evidence is left in every crevice of the premises.
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 6:14 AM UTC
I confabulate with thee,
Your words cut me so deep,
Leaving scars beneath the holes piercing in my heart,
Your voice so unreachable,
I try to connect with you,
But the feelings of complete and utter love, far gone.
Uncontrollable urges dwelling inside me,
My mouth so dry, out of words,
Trying to communicate in terms of getting thee,
Tranquility far from being found,
Loneliness scares me,
Your presence though, takes my breath away and calms me down,
My weak heart,
Wilts without you,
Defoliating internally and breaking me,
My nervous system,
Secreting enzymes from the pituitary gland,
Enzymes of hopelessness and heart break,
It feels like an ocean without water,
Incomplete and dry,
Waiting to fulfill that thirst of love,
A day without you,
Feels like an era passed,
Changing my surrounding and you on the way,
Devastated I am,
Deprived of that charismatic love we once shared,
Now bond-less, like oxygen being separated from hydrogen,
With ever drop of blood that falls,
Draining all my veins and arteries,
I can swear, I will always love you till the day my heart stops beating.
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 6:54 AM UTC
her blooming figure gyrating
arcing, tilting, wilting above;
my tasting her secreting prose,
licking all the lines
that come
and go
like fallen petals hugging themselves
in moonglow spell,
lit with an aftercoil meld, blueblack waters stilled
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 4:29 PM UTC
I Sleep ;
I Slip
In Doze, I Seep out into the Scenes ;
In Potions Deep
In Notions Cold and Preasuring
I Fit and Knit my Crown
I Coral
I Knot and Concrete a Frown
But though I Invite my Efforts
My Thoughting is Leaks and Tearing *
Over Whale but Underwater
I Recover Nothing Reassuring
Slowing to a Pale
In Ocean Cold
My Feedings are Slurring to a Drown
My Motions ; Enwombed and Collected
An Unfoetal, my Body Undertakes a Vulnerable Mould
Above
The Surface
The Ship Blinks, on Fire
And Gifts from the Broken Hold Sink to me
It's all a Wink Directed at me
A Humour
But I am become Prepared Still
For the Next Life
I Discard, Decending Still
A Treat Sunk Below
A Monsterous Breakfast
*note : as in, secreting saline, watery fluid
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 10:19 PM UTC
I don't know any lady
without eyes with zero dreams!
I've found two female legs
walking on the rainbow
At the top of the tree with birds;
I've seen two hands of a damsel
touching blue lotuses
Within thrilling waves of low air!
A pea-green lady soul secreting moonlight
Around orange-sun cracking jokes with clouds.
I've perceived weighty eyes
in the deeper black lake
Swimming with multicolored fishes;
I've seen an off-white body limbless
into an unknown folder
Walking slowly on the water!
I haven't noticed any woman
flying like kites together with a butterfly!
Poem 22
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 12:42 PM UTC
894
Of Consciousness, her awful Mate
The Soul cannot be rid—
As easy the secreting her
Behind the Eyes of God.
The deepest hid is sighted first
And scant to Him the Crowd—
What triple Lenses burn upon
The Escapade from God—
1.2k
For the listener, who mourns in the silence
and takes upon himself to bury the secrets of others,
who listens in the sand and is solaced by the wind
and lays to sleep at hours small and nights dark
for the listener knows the thoughts of the universe
when he looks inside and feels the earth quake
in his body, the earth
quakes
and he shakes & shivers & the mortal secrets
drown,
secreting into the flood the chemicals that lie
between us,
lie
for our survival and the belief of our progression.
for the listener, i pray,
i pray for him to come & save
my hopes,
i believe no one else believes in his arrival.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 9:52 AM UTC
Such hot tears, that sizzle and evaporate
as they drip off the sides of hot cheeks.
Mist slowly rising off my shoulders,
out and off my head, and down my arms and legs.
Smokey fog swarming me from the humidity that begins to emit in the room from the heat.
Anger that boils blood
Now secreting through the skin
Through sweat and tears.
I clench my jaw, cemented shut, and squeeze my eyes tight.
Hoping to wring out all the pain and anger through the tear ducts.
Juice it to salty pulp.
Such hot tears pooled on top of burning cheeks.
Turning into hot springs.
One of the warmest things I have felt
In such a long time.
Aug 3, 2021
Aug 3, 2021 at 7:14 AM UTC
Infectious smile
Like the sweetest disease
My lip have never touched
Such a delicate taste
As the gentle toxin
Secreting from your lips
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 4:19 PM UTC
I talk to the water and the spring, it's deeper source,
without words, it heals me, I receive the benediction,
to clouds and seething sea waves too,I, my eyes speak
transcending mind, I reach out to the gentle forces of nature
send my thoughts to plants and animals, they are very kind.
"Would you keep quiet for a while?"
I hear my request to myself as if I am somebody
different, from what I wish to be.I am astonished
at myself, it's the ability to commune with silence.
I go back to the mind of nature wordless, in meditation
hope that I would be the one I wish, the elders
have told us all that is to be done.Needs to be just the link.
I want to stop my babbling that makes
words lose their, inherent potency
I get this nagging question, repeatedly
do I respect the word, utmost
and be in it's ring of friends and lovers?
the fewer you use words
I feel the word will desire you more
But how do I forge the emotional bond
with each word I woo and make my own?
I seek the answer in 'Aum"
I invoke a word to come out of the beehive
of my buzzing brain, a cosmos,where they
compete with each other to fly out to forests far
in search of flowers secreting honey, dense with pollen.
I hear the drone of the word, on it's journey
to distant gardens.I acknowledge it's clarity of intentions
purity of singular thought which fills heart with sweetness
the bee, is a 'brahmachari' single minded 'yogi'
after the ultimate meaning;I, wish to let the word be and with it
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 8:20 AM UTC
A false hope
of belonging
shaded by disappointed lectures
by an idolized puppeteer of authority
shameless
we toss our ideals on the roots below
to gain one free moment
from thought
look back on that body
think of the grunting
sweating
pouring ink onto pillows
secreting through stretched pores
letting the dreamer sleep,
and the others dream
on these brightest nights
no more possessive pronouns
no one wonders
like we used to
no greater power is knocking
we're convicts of our own convictions
a paradox
air gets hard to swallow
hide under your quilt
of disdain and guilt
keep me afloat
but never show me how
Jul 29, 2012
Jul 29, 2012 at 5:44 PM UTC
Along the gallant road rides a superfluous vibe,
Secreting utter destruction as it strides through massive vines.
It clasps its form against the almighty wind,
With every curve, it steeps into a lifelike kin.
When midnight turns, it taunts with vigorous fear.
Growing its momentum as it creeps near and near.
Suddenly, faint noises reeled in and appeared! Creak…Creak…Creak….
The wind slams into the mahogany door without any presence becoming clear.
What might it be? Who could it be?
Had the door not been closed when I went off to sleep?
The infant child began to ruminate about all the possibilities,
Until the moment it grew tired and drifted into a dream.
The child became the rider of the wind.
Dreaming of endless encounters with other hopeless victims.
Have you not noticed the source of energy imposed from within?
It was the child who crafted this skin of sin.
The silent scream soared throughout the sky.
Until the unconscious mind transformed, as it stroked midnight.
Ding…Dong…Ding… The animal awoke from its den;
After a superfluous vibe was intuitively picked up from within.
By: Michael M. De La Fuente
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 6:47 PM UTC
On a human journey reaching inner peace.
Providing love and inspiration to all whom I meet.
Spiritually inclined in this world so diverse.
Seeking wisdom from those who inspire me the most.
Socializing is in my true nature.
Establishing connections to expand positive vibrations.
Understanding and accepting that people may come and go, while others maintain a constant flow.
Learning how to live, while judging no soul.
We must seek within to develop a pivotal foundation.
Secreting awareness to increment our minds potential.
Such beauty is accessible for everyone to know.
Being in the present moment will enable that for sure.
Enriching this worlds energy by kindness with whom we meet;
will profoundly nurture one's ability to absorb positivity.
By: Michael M. De La Fuente
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC