"solidify" poems
The Earth was ours.
We filled its fertile fields full of
Plants of our own choosing: our own design.
To provide for ourselves we drained the Earth
Because the Earth was ours.
We populated the islands that
The Earth had built for us from its own skin.
Like parasites we kept it alive for our needs
Because the Earth was ours.
Then one day the Earth spoke:
You who crawl over my face,
Unthinking for the blemishes you build.
You till my skin and plough my bones, you drink
My tears and feast on my flesh. Slowly, my fiery
Vengeance has brewed, bubbled upwards
And wrath shall be known.
It will begin as a rumbling.
You will think I tremble with terror at your might
But the movement of your monuments is more my
Laughter at your lowliness. The hallways of your houses
Will be hewn by themselves as my body convulses to be rid of the
Sickness of you. You will sound your two-tone Armageddon sirens
In vain as my thunderous thoughts tumble your towers
Fragment your foundations. Break your brick walls.
Stone on stone will spark, igniting infrastructure
And your cities will burn.
But it is just the beginning.
I will bury you.
I will bury you in the fire of my fury.
I will bury you in the ashes of my anger.
You will solidify, screaming, into silent stone.
You will choke, child-like, on my smoke.
You will die by my hand: your home.
And I will bury you.
And this to me is easy.
I am greater than all you build from
My body. So I use my body to wreak ruin:
Reduce your greatness to rubble and dust
Because the Earth was always mine.
I was always my own.
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 7:53 PM UTC
There is a fine line between obsession and love
and suffocating myself
with a pillow will not solidify that.
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 9:45 PM UTC
A follow on poem to 'In the Sunroom (Suicide)" (1)
writ many years later...
~For MWK~
<>
A stray thought. a burring burrowing, thorny tawny:
A wish, yet to get, but vetted for each of us.
*This within, this redoubt, a contemplative oasis,
my indoor poet's nookery rookery sanctuary
each one, each is, deserves, all, one such,
a place holy filled, with lice and dirt of a life,
strained and trained for emission and transmission
of the best of the worst, and the triumphant emergent commission of
our individualized most excellent fresh best
where crumbs of apple crisp pie solidify, vanilla bean ice cream
melt offsets the oven heated warmth, and from this interactive
contrasts combative,
a poem pie reborn, newly disguised, familiar words,
yet unheard and before this very never,
went unspoken and now goes forth
svelte and unbroken
*rhymes of yore, forgot from a before, but making up the walls
of the here and now,
a sunroom to spread out the lit lights of egress and entrance,
of fire door no exits that now are chiseled closed,
lock in, lock up, and somehow, one, stills to learn from
the stilling quiet solitude.
to penetrate the prostrate kneeling grinning grief,
how to expel and spell the words
that grant
relief
visit my sunroom, though no fiction.
the sun rays *********** create the friction
of that which cannot ever be withered nor contained,
and your mouth opens wide and a poem birthed and delivered,
pastiche paste composted of truth and dreams of fiction, fine diction,
with a shrug, a smile, a satisfaction extracted extraordinary,
you garner moments of satisfaction but cloud cover returns,
and the process of sunrise exposition recommences,
and one revisits the elemental sequencing of
all the predecessor pain, but this time,
for gain, for gain,
<>
written this sabbath Saturday
12:38am EST
Sat Aug 2
2025
in the sunroom,
on Shelter Island
Aug 2, 2025
Aug 2, 2025 at 12:59 AM UTC
I never asked you for the things you gave me
I never asked
But you didn't even care
If I had asked,
would you have shut me out?
Or would you have given more?
Of your overflowing wine
of life or love or energy
( or whatever it was
that you folded into my hands
like the most secret-sacred treasure map )
You would sometimes catch me
In a gaze like a doe
Ask me things
That took time to sink in
Because I was being distracted
By my urge to count your eyelashes
We could never go outside in the cold
Because you were terrified
That your breath would crystallize and twist inside your lungs
But you loved to see how long you could hold your breath for
Underwater
There would be pauses
As time stilled to take a look at us
To check that we really were still there
And everything around us swirled
Like autumn leaves or glitter stars
Our glances would solidify
And memory struck out to capture snapshots
Everly, I never asked
Not even once, but you still gave
Everly, I can't quite grasp
I see you sometimes
When the sunshine's wounding bright
Yellow, cheerful, heavenly
And I look into the shadows
To find rest for my eyes
I can never keep straight the present and the past
So when I look in the shade
I see ghosts of you sprawled out, laughing, head tilted back, hands splayed
Your sighs were soft
But you only ever sighed them
When your face shone
With a lovely glow of indulgence
We watched Hitchcock religiously
We wouldn't give them up
You said that you liked Vertigo the best
But you never told me why
I'll hold your friendship
In the cup of my hands
While wonder fills up slowly
Where my thoughts should be
I'll peer over my thumbs
To steal a peek at the clear blue crystalline
Effervescent memories
I will remember you foreverly
My word
Apr 5, 2011
Apr 5, 2011 at 11:37 AM UTC
Have you forgotten?
The Iron
The Fire
The hammer and anvil of it all
The pile of **** and scrap metal
The dirt ore heap in the corner of your soul
The useless heavy burden
On your shoulders, and in the heart of you
Have you forgotten the forging and the beating
The sweating and the bleeding
The swing and the crash,
And the pain and the smash;
The heat from the fires that purify
And the hiss from the waters that solidify
Have you missed the bending and folding
and the way that you're constantly molding?
Have you forgotten
You are the hammer
You are the anvil
You are the iron and the forge fire
That creates the steel of your character
The sharp sweeping sword of your soul
For no one else can change you
Except for you
So slam the hammer down!
Swing it without flinching
Tense yourself, your muscles your nerves and sinews
Grit your teeth and clench your jaw
Grip the metal like a white knuckled vice of certainty
Focus on the spot and
Slam the Hammer Down!
Beat it into something useful
Beat if into something beautiful
Beat it with meaning for it is meaningful!
Did you forget that!
No, You did not forget
You dreamed of throwing it off,
You dreamed of being rid of it
You hoped to wake one day
And find that it had melted away
But
“You cannot dream yourself into a character:
you must hammer and forge yourself into one.”
― Henry David Thoreau
Jun 9, 2012
Jun 9, 2012 at 11:22 PM UTC
Shrouded in deep purple fear and billowing clouds of crimson shame,
I sat on the floor, a trembling moth in still air.
I swallowed. The taste of bile remained.
My warmth flowed out of my body into the icy bathroom tiles, escaping rapidly through cracks in my split-open soul.
She sat beside me, quiet, waiting.
After an eternity, I nodded to her with a shaky breath.
She helped me gently off the floor and guided me to her bed, tucking herself behind me to become my tight cocoon.
With my head rested against her chest, I heard her blood pounding through her, but her breaths were slow, controlled.
The fibers of my muscles remained tense, straining to compensate for my spirit - raw, exposed, vulnerable.
Her small, soft fingers ran through my tangled hair,
drips of golden honey appearing as she began to hum.
Her radiant honey oozed from the smooth, full notes of her voice and dripped between sharp fragments of my shattered porcelain.
The clock tutted at us from the wall, approaching the third hour of morning, but she held my shards together tenderly and unhurried.
The fight drained from me as she sang her sweet melody.
A puddle of purple and crimson beneath me. Pieces, tenderly held.
Her pure, glimmering honey meandered through my etched cracks and between my too-prominent ribs to replace my purple and crimson.
She sang the life back to me, held me together with her sturdy grace.
She waited as the liquid gold began to solidify and I began to feel closer to whole once more.
She - who loves me laughing, who loves me dancing - loves me messy, too.
Mar 22, 2022
Mar 22, 2022 at 6:17 PM UTC
The night becomes you -
hair coiffed in fashion
illuminated eyes reveal attraction,
the scent of body oil
pervasive,
ambient music evolves
persuasive
savory rhetoric,
cabernet erodes my inhibition
no contrition, turn the ignition.
The night becomes you -
you wear it well
an amalgam,
ardor and insouciance -
redefining glamour,
ephemeral moments
dial down the sunlight,
I am slain - voice and accent
weave their spell;
black dust coat, white hat,
a pair of posh boots
they live to tell.
The night becomes you
rhyme scheme - lyrical poetry
sophisticated venue, table for two
ensconced, the
leather lounge,
similitude within difference;
undulation - cadences of
counterpoint -
poise and peril of duality
we inhabit the floor.
Postprandial, conversation extempore;
machinations of intoxicating discourse,
I could drink your words -
artistic milieu- beguiling imagery,
sonant susurrations
penetrate my being.
The night becomes you -
theoretical locutions
phrasing depth and humor,
undiluted amour, tensions resolve
frame by frame,
solidify the affair
and validate the rumor
subsumed in sequence, pulsating,
igniting the sapid interior flame
silver screen ending,
effusive reviews
two hearts collide and form one;
the cherub's arrow finds its aim.
©2008 & 2011 W.S. Warner
Sep 22, 2011
Sep 22, 2011 at 10:34 PM UTC
I'll turn missing you into a way to spend my life with you.
Just see if I don't.
It doesn't matter what you do to me, I will love you every **** day.
I will make something beautiful and devote it to you.
My pain for your absence will solidify with time, and become a being of its own,
And it will follow me like my own shadow wherever I go
For the rest of my life.
And when I turn out the light,
It will envelope me, surround me, swallow me,
And we will be the same.
I've called you the sun, I've called you light, I've called you the universe,
I've called you my love,
And now you have become something even more heartbreakingly present.
Now you inhabit the dark as well.
Now the thought of you is the air around me,
In my lungs, along my skin,
So absent that it is everywhere.
So empty that it fills everything.
And never in my life will I be able to find a place without it.
Never anywhere will I stop breathing you in.
And as I murmur your name into the dark every night before I fall asleep
I realize that even if you don't care if I die, you will keep me alive.
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 11:55 PM UTC
It's 6pm,
anxiously waiting till its 8pm,
For the voice of magic,
that magnifies my heart from so many miles away,
This is my confession your voice is perfection,
I love the way you alter those words of affection,
Without going down memory lane,
Butterflies in my belly doing the flip floppy thing like a lolly,
As I feel your sweet melodious voice,
Solidify & Stir-up in my heart,
I wanna radically alter my thought,
I'm astonished by your rapid transformation of words
To be sincere,
If the sea where to be a burning fire &
the blustery wind were to blow it profusely
Like a stormy rain of volcano upon the land,
I will never leave,
I will always be on nigeria info,
Where I get all the info,
the purest of creativity you deliver,
you diva,
When I tune-in in the evening,
you Ignite my heart
Your eyes are the kaleidoscope,
to my ever moving colorful world of reality,
Let me leave for now,
I will be back soon by night,
I think others are in anxiety,
Trying to drop in,
Their beautiful words of human creativity.
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 7:55 PM UTC
Hero got a phone call,
From the being with three eyes.
So often his existence,
Could be validated by advice.
It is then organised by rhythms,
So that the words solidify,
If the chaos cant be structured,
Then all vision is blinding light.
Hero said to the being,
“I fall in to infatuation with such ease.”
The being said, “You’re seeing,
Your own love reflectively.
“Your brains mirror neurone system,
Causes you to smile at a smile,
This mirroring of others,
Allows for formation of a tribe.
Now you know this wisdom,
Think of your romantic life.
The subject of your infatuation,
Did not cause your love inside.
The love all humans seek,
Is already in your possession,
Which is why the search feels bleak,
You’re hunting the impossible obsession.
You’re all looking for your lost keys,
Tearing everything apart,
All the while they’re in your hand,
Or your breast pocket by your heart.”
Hero nodded rhythmically,
But found it hard to understand,
“If the love’s inside of me,
Then how has any love began?”
“A lot of love is a product,
Of false infatuation;
Two people seeking it from each other,
And thus there is divorce and separation.
But true love is the love inside of you,
Which is the love of the universe,
If you can learn to embrace this,
Then it will free you of your curse.
The mirror neurone system also detects,
The love inside as if it was a grin.
Within another, you’re existing love will reflect,
And embrace and share this world that the two of you are in.
It’s not a swapping of hearts,
But a pressing of them together.
The look in her eyes was not the start,
The start of love was forever.”
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC
you keep on glowing
even when i close my eyes.
the darkest places-Gary michael.
I helped write the lyrics to a song about someone i hadn’t met yet. and now i realize that i wrote them about the one i would soon meet.
follow me here into the depths of the ocean where the waves collapse my lungs and retrieve my spirit. we were blessed with the simple knowing of our souls. they whispered at great lengths so far apart they heard one another. i saw you see me for all the heaviness i am. with such strength you pulled the weight and threw it away to the shore line hoping for high tide. it came at its own pace but it pulled away all it could and has left space for creativity. I see all peace in the sea within the arms of giant who beholds the means to repair all imperfections. solidify my concerns for drowning discomfort you have pushed me over the edge and thrown me a raft but missed because i must learn to swim. “Keep your head above the water” you’d shout from amidst the boat you have brought me in. so I kick and struggle and im drowning and your shouting “you must relax and see that i am seen and unseen in the eyes of the life that clings to the night in hopes to float to me in eloquent motions” so i close these horizon eyes and breathe out the fear of God. “to remember me in hatred is to remember me in love so remember me for indifference and you too shall float above” daysleeper has released the nervous tension and has given me the strength to be no other than a teacher and lost soul to the seed as it grows. i am rescued from the ocean and im soaking wet with emotion. my body is wrapped in the warmth of the savior i was threatened from. you have consumed me in your radiance where i will always stay and i love the way the ocean smells and you smell together as one. and once i woke from this dream it seemed that i had been breathing in and exhaling out the sweet sea and herbal tea.
Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 1:48 PM UTC
I have always been a morning person
With the way the sun peeked over storage units
and abandoned cars
"Hello!" It says
"I am here! Do not fear the dark!"
So we make our coffee and the artists think
Certain things
We build words and universes within ourselves
And we never get to a book in time to write it down
To scrawl down the formula
For what might have been
morning always reminds me
Of lazy cats stretching in the sun
And watching the dew solidify
On the grass
Outside the window.
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 10:38 AM UTC
*We've lived to expressed those wonders
we thought and felt,
in the depths of our emotional journey,
our words sours
in highs and lows.
-
a fine balance
at crucial times
equally stable
in fate and its tales.
-
essence of time
solidify our strength
through choices predicts our
future yet more often
never to the exact extent.
-
our old sheets may fade
and our ink might run dry
we should never
lose ourselves
even the smallest
drop of hope
creates big ripples.
*
Feb 1, 2017
Feb 1, 2017 at 2:43 AM UTC
At the age of nine he wanted to die
which was something I couldn't understand
because I knew our mother loved us.
desperation so
doctors drill diagnostic decisions down his throat.
I pray he won't choke on the
shallow pills he has to swallow
hollow dreams he has to follow.
Sedating's seductive for families who can afford it.
The Founding Fathers have forged my future,
they've mocked my freedom and cashed in on humans.
America likes to revive our problems with the quickest fix, money solves it.
My brothers become another lab rat
to solidify the fact that these pills are legit.
Simply because his name appears on a list.
Ignoring the fact his original pain was nothing but a claim
against all of this cultural ********
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 1:25 PM UTC
I've driven myself in
to the valley of deserted
Tears.
To where it's too hot,
while living is an isolation.
There's no river nor
lush forest around,
its as dry as the desert
sands, then humidity
strikes your nerves
that you'll feel
overcooked.
The crimson sky
Bleeds of its inking
Beauty...
I on the other hand
solidify my strength
to ease the burden
I carry, as i lift myself
Little by little towards
A meaningful step
For SURVIVAL!
© pax
Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 11:09 AM UTC
When my guilt paralyzes me,
when my shame makes me cower
under the piercing lights of discovery,
my shoulders melt.
Bone becomes fluid, leaks into cavities,
pools around my organs in puddles:
puddles that fill crevices, then freeze.
Molecules grow closer, fit to form,
cementing my fears together
like negative space on a statue.
My guilt and shame were read to me
like bedtime stories every night at nine.
My quilt was littered with secret hurts
to cover with shrugs and a stoic face.
I wasn't just taught to take the blame
and accept responsibility for that which I can't control:
I was taught how to bury it in the backyard,
how to papier-mache a mask
over my reddening cheeks,
to soak up my salty woes
and further solidify the facade.
As the years passed and practice made perfect,
my entire body became encapsulated in fear and pride.
Independence burned bright in my self-descriptions,
but all I truly had to offer was an island,
desolation built upon an inevitability.
I was taught to hold secrets like water,
a never-ending flood of pieces of myself.
My reflection once told me to stop:
there was so much debris, I was manic static
over a vital broadcast.
That hunger took hold,
ripped the pain right out of my lungs
like warm breath on a chilly morning.
But self-awareness dissipated just as quickly.
Acclimation; Stockholm syndrome.
I came to covet the shell,
unbreakable like the vice over your heart.
I was taught not to burden;
I was taught not to trust.
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 4:13 PM UTC
Beneath her ****** purple eyes the bandages unwind
Reveal the fruit of every hit she's taken to her mind
A stripe away from damages that cannot be undone
She whispers in her timidness, you are the only one
The seeker floats around the words she speaks into the night
And she can feel a quiet breeze solidify their flight
I'll be there soon, I'll watch the moon, I'll travel back to you
The bruises heal and she appears, she finds him withered too
I've missed the conversations we have carried through the years
A hope, a light, dynamic sounds surrendering my ears
I want to bounce until the day we reach the second stair
Repel the dark and sorry things that tangle up your hair
And so the strands were compromised, she let the pieces fall
Upon the fringe of sacrifice she floated through the wall
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 8:41 PM UTC
Let me post a selfie
how's my hair
makeup
angle
filter
how do I look
did I get likes yet?
Let me post a status
one about how much I love my besties
another on how I learned a new lesson
now here's a photo of my breakfast
I have to comment
like
poke
post new updates
every day
becuase that's just what you do nowadays,
that's just how it goes
because we're all so afraid
if we don't keep posting
if we don't get those likes
and invites
and pokes
and fill up our messages
and notifications,
that we're going to be forgotten.
That if we don't solidify our presence
on social media
then we don't have a presence at all.
We spend so much time
trying to make other people
think we exist,
that we never end up existing at all,
not really.
We don't need all these people
and confirmations
to tell us we exist.
we already do.
If only it weren't so easy to forget that.
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 6:04 PM UTC
I asked my math professor if he knew what the equation was when two entities meet at a specific moment in life.
Is there a letter to substitute in for her name?
Or a number for the amount of time I spend with her.
Did the great elucid create any form of geometrical sequences that would
allow me to intersect the way life intertwined,
the way our hands intertwined.
I was clueless when it came to her,
being unable to justify what traveled faster
her voice against my skin
or light across the open space.
If I could write out a formula for the way our bodies melt, the periodic table would find a new element within.
What would our acronym be, what would our lives become if we solidify or become a gaseous state
Our atoms bouncing against each other’s hearts like the core of a star, matter weighing millions of tons that we orbit around each other like two galaxies connecting.
Yet illuminating the dead space like a Fourth of July only this is a firework burning for billions of years.
Two bodies,
hearts beating,
melting into one.
What will they write down in books about us.
What will they think when they start to study about our nebula's.
Were their hearts to empty,
or were they full of life?
Were they human?
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 1:08 AM UTC
Within the enclosed
Walls of the
Windowless cell
Huddled in the corner
A man sits motionless
The coldness of the
Damp brick walls
Around him
Creep through his
Sweaty skin
Clogging the pores
Causing a fever
No window
Breaks the brick walls
Of the dwarf sized cell
No light
Just darkness
Ensnare the space
Around the cross-legged man
He feels his eyes
Will soon go blind
From the choked
Layer upon thick layer
Of blackness
He feels his skin
Will solidify
Into a frozen fever
Of cold
All the blood and veins
Beneath
Slowly turning to crusts of nothing
These are terrible
Terrible as the jingle of
The key’s click
Meaning the door is locked
Not to be opened
Until his executioner
Decides is right
Terrible as the moment
He caught his last
Glimpse of the sun’s beams
Gifting the outside world with
Simple happiness
But neither of these
Could amount to
The horrifying
Sound of a single
Clock’s steady
Ticking
Ticking
Ticking away the minutes
And hours remaining of his life
The man sits
Sits and sits
Never moving
His ears are continuously
Invaded with this
Ticking
Ticking
Ticking
How will he survive?
What seem
To be weeks pass
And he sits
In that same corner
Motionless
On the edge of madness
Ticking
After
Ticking
Pass
And soon
He understands
To fall in love
With this sound
Is the key
He listens now
And soon
In place of the
Ticking
The man in the
Windowless cell
Hears music
Soon an orchestra
Of deep fathomless cello
Smooth whispering piano
Melancholy violin
Echoes throughout the
Tunnels of this man’s ears
Now
With music his companion
This man
Cross-legged in the corner
Of the windowless cell
Smiles to the
Music
Through his sorrows
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 5:16 PM UTC
When you interfere, I get an inner fear, that You should not be here
But You interject, and I recollect
The resolve You test, you know what's best
You insist, and I resist
To keep You at bay, in the same callous way
I won't let won't let you in, I can't let you win
To solidify my sin, the kind aside from religion, apart from illusion
Adultery of the Spirit
Apr 10, 2012
Apr 10, 2012 at 10:34 PM UTC
Goodnight
I hope you fall into a thick dreamland where the colours of reality begin to mistify and the hues of your temporal paradise begin to solidify.
May you weep with excitement due to the aura it brings, may you find contentment in the air as you wake and may my love reach you ~ half across the world
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 7:24 PM UTC
i see you
formulate in the sky,
until a permanent cloud remains,
for all to see.
You settle in a montaged dream sequence,
a sweeping sentiment of sweet innocence;
in the equilibrium of your natural habitat.
Just a rain clouds tears away.
A utopian notion,
broken reluctance inspired by emotions.
A colloquial calmness
confronts the surface,
we burrow
down,
deeper,
for the winter in preparation of the hibernate soul;
The harsh cold paradise takes toil into the parable.
In the midst of Nirvana with a frozen heart.
A lake remains.
The tears turn to rain and solidify likes scars.
The reign is over,
You melt into my arms.
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 2:12 PM UTC
Dream is but a life,
Severed from congruence and chronology.
Did I imagine my memory?
The adolescent blizzard,
The tar pits of first love,
The prepubescent honeycomb,
The shedding of innocent skin,
The infant cobweb spun by genetics.
Death at the leg of my mate,
Birth among a thousand siblings.
Climbing to the ground
From the sky where i was buried,
Resting in rapid eye ether,
Transparent atmospheres solidify
With ruby whips of gravity.
My reflection in your fingernails,
My face askew in distortion,
Your hand's a house of mirrors,
Peeling at my silhouette.
I'm drinking fire,
As we cremate the sea.
Nirvana becomes panoramic,
The air ripples.
The topaz pillar i held becomes my body pillow,
And I wipe the sleep from my eye.
The dream unstitched,
We sew reality back up,
But the thread gets thin
At night.
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
bricks may solidify a house,
fine carpentry may add a finish,
and a serious household will love its foundation
take her heart anew
she has only a memory for a man
her house is empty without you
~~
..circa 1986..(C)2013 Spiros Zafiris
..channeled; spirit Ram
~~
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 5:12 PM UTC