"solitarily" poems
To even commence to define how profoundly I fell in love with you, I would need the capacity of a thousand-page manuscript written in the most romantic idiom.
Each, and every retention of us is stowed into the back of my conscious, and concealed deep into my heart.
Every beautiful memory plays through my head like soft music.
I would say my heart is immovable. There are days that I try to sojourn the thoughts of you, but its intolerable for me to do so.
I am so engulfed in your perfection. I do not think there has been a single day that you have escaped my thoughts.
I can feel your presence with me if I ponder our memories deeply enough. Your presence weighs heavily in my heart. It is as if part of your soul occupies its crevasses, and fills my cracks.
Your eyes are echoes of a hundred distant galaxies no man has ever revealed. Vast windows that reflect the constellations.
My heart is certain the universe resides in them.
As I begin to study your face, I feel like nothing but love can exist.
Your porcelain perfection never ceases to weaken me.
You weaken me with love, trust, and desire. Like the finest specimen created by the hands of Gods.
As I anticipate the connotation of love, the implication is “you”.
Even if the fire for what you feel for me dies, I do not reason the passion I have for you will ever dim.
I do not begin to recollect if I had ever felt this susceptible.
I let this passion be valued like the rarest stone.
I would give up the entire world if it meant I could have you in my life endlessly.
Your happiness is of grave importance to me, when I study your smile, I can overlook the darkness of this decaying reality.
Every heartbeat of time my mouth declares three unpretentious words.
“I love you”.
I say it like an invocation.
Not one moment did my tongue express profanity against these golden words of poetry.
I love you. “ I Love You” . And solitarily just you.
I wallow in my own sorrows at the thought of the culmination, when we shall one day part at death's hand.
For I deeply distinguish that you love me equally, and this brings vast pleasure to my temperament.
I sense security in your encirclement, your heart is my home.
My heart qualms of my fragile weakness that I consume when I dream of you.
You make me susceptible to the sickness of love.
If love was a poem, you would be the title.
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 10:30 PM UTC
Dear Moon,
You looked beautiful tonight.
The kind of beauty
That grabs all eyes
and insists that they pay you attention.
But moon,
tell me,
are you lonely up there?
The infinity of stars that lay
scattered in your presence,
seem as if they could be pleasant company,
but is it all an illusion?
The stars trick the foolish
into thinking that they are in your
constant amity.
That’s what it looks like to us, Moon.
But those stars have never uttered one word to you
have they?
Immeasurable distances
make conversing quite difficult,
I would imagine.
Are you sad, Moon?
Is it distressing, Luna,
that us,
the ignorant,
believe that just because
our eyes see the stars in a way that
makes us believe they are near to you,
that you are not hurting?
Child of the night
who lives solitarily.
Do you weep?
Do you shed tears that we mistake
for beauty against the vast night sky?
Daughter of the dark,
who graces all with her
entrancing despondency,
Was there ever a time when you
had hope that somebody,
anybody
would save you from your fate?
Do you feel forsaken my love?
What have you done, Moon,
that would condemn you to this
paradoxically poetic reality?
You didn’t want this.
You only wanted to shed awe upon us,
and light the path home when it got
too dark.
And what have you gotten in return?
Isolation.
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 10:59 PM UTC
Antagonism
burgeons back bad blood.
Compatriots, courtesy can cool contentions:
doubly, disrespect demands decisive
execution. Early efforts evolved
fatuously, force facilitated farcical fighting.
Gambling gents gleefully gored
hedonistic harlots. Harassing
ignorantly, igniting
jealously,
killings
listlessly- liars lament
momentarily. Meanwhile, monetary
nuances
of opulence obscure
prime problems.
Quarries quake
running red. Remembering
solitarily- stoic steeds stand silent, sending
thoughts,
unbidden, unbeknownst.
Violence:
we were
xanthic,
yellow years yaw…
Zymotic.
Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 11:57 PM UTC
It’s hard to tell whether it’s a blessing or a curse
To be around (just in case) someone else needs to talk:
Like a guardian angel, but let me say
After such a long time of putting others before myself
Sometimes I feel like an emergency flashlight
Collecting dust on a closet shelf.
Off to the side until it’s convenient-
But still on the line on the off-chance I’m needed.
And in the lonely hours I sit waiting and glancing at the clock
Waiting for someone to answer my text of “is anyone there?”
I begin to wonder what could be commendable
About being so solitarily dependable.
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 8:46 PM UTC
Im serving lifes with this pen/
Convicted for Killing time
Im
Eternally trapped within/
For my sins
Solitarily confined
In these lines
where do I begin/
Can you read between them
It never ends/
The margin is marginal/
Carte blanch
Ive over stepped my boundaries
Broke the rule cardinal/
Now Im in an invisible/
cell feeling miserable/
My time shouldve been
More productive
This is NA Not Applicable/
23 hours in the whole
Lost ours in part
Another 60 gone/
Thought is food
scarf down words/
Appetite absurd clearly just observe/
work the mind
Stay fit/
only way to survive inside
Mental aerobics Various signs/
Shape it
chin up chin down equals a syllable/
My own worst enemy
My dictions despicable/
Train everyday to enhance
Considerable/
For I know never leaving
These sentences for life/
Are habitual/
Even before I got booked
They extradited my freedom/
The right to write
When I tried to free lance
I was just free writing/
They cuffed my free hands
Life sentence to this pen
Now they want my annihilation
Too many things gone missing punctuations
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 12:51 PM UTC
She lay with her back to him, face to the wall, says: “Nothing is black and white. All shades of grey. I wanted it to be… just wish it was white.”
She placed the cracks in her voice at calculated places, hoping but no reply expecting. He is usually not aware of her subtleties, the hints to the real state of things, with her. Then he lays his arm around her as he says: “At least it’s grey, not black.”
Her eyes widen in the dark but do not flinch, and she pulls him by his hand closer onto her, wishing it was the only touch she needed to bring her the ultimate comfort that she wanted, that she needed.
“But I’m afraid, the black will seep in and make the grey darker.” She swallows, suppressing her fear for speaking fatalities. “Sometimes it seems like it has and does.”
Silence falls over them as she waits for an answer; the black stylised curls he drew on his wall gaze back at her, with still, reciprocating wonder.
She reminisces to how she drew curls on her own wall, with the artistic charcoal she got for her fifteenth birthday; it was a meagre gift from the one to whom she would lose her virginity barely a few months later. Now, the curls are gone, and her contact with him fell away soon after the fact, reduced only to sporadic visits on her part.
Finally, listening to his steady breathing in sleep, she is convinced he had given up the conversation, feeling comforted that he reassured her enough for now. Her eyes remain open still though; they peer through the darkness as if it held her fortune, solitarily illuminated by the stars shining through the skylight above her. It is relating conflicting prophecies however.
If I was as pure as white, no black could – would contaminate my love for him, she thinks. But white is for virgins and she has been in love before.
© 2006
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 6:23 PM UTC
I no longer enjoy
solitarily and silence
Nor the bliss
of tranquility in stillness.
It sickens me now
It's like...
It feeds the lonely monster
dwelling inside me and
poops out negative thoughts,
making me over think
about little things,
And the bacteria
That comes with it
deteriorates my optimistic immune system making it weak.
Then eventually eating up my whole identity leaving me empty
and thats when i start to question myself... who I really am.
I feel like my soul
is completely lost
in the abyss
of my own profound thoughts.
Swimming in the infinite universe in my head.
Unable to return
Just floating in the void.
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 10:38 PM UTC
It's as if it calls my name,
Mostly at night,
Near sleeps edge.
I feel the wind,
Smell it sweet and pure,
The plants and sage,
Even the rich dry earth,
All their scents are there.
The High Desert remains,
Like no other place, there is.
Steens Mountain
She beckons me too,
My roof-top sentinel
Of all I survey,
Vast vistas of startling,
Sun drenched, anointed
Wide open color rich land,
As far as the eye can see.
All so pleasantly devoid,
Of any trace of Human Beings,
I become solitarily lost as much,
As I choose to be.
With Blue skies so bright
and deep they take
your breath away.
At night the unobstructed
Black heavens are alive with
A mass of stars, the likes of which,
Most people on Earth have never
Seen with naked eyes alone.
Almost like an Astronauts view,
They appear endless and
Right at your front door.
A brightly illuminated Galaxy
Endless to infinity.
Pulsing lights vast and inspiring,
So close appearing you feel,
That you might bump your head,
Must even duck down a little,
Just to give them room.
Actually wept a few tears,
The first time I stood there,
Under the lighted umbrella of their spell.
No wonder the ancient peoples'
Worshiped the stars, the heavens.
Perhaps we all should.
To some, a High Desert is but
A wasteland of dirt and weeds.
Not true, rather it's a vibrant
Landscape alive with activity,
More Wildlife than I've ever seen,
In one place, at one time.
The landscape and the creatures,
Mostly left alone by man,
To thrive, grow and roam.
It's all as it must have been,
A thousand years ago.
Is it any wonder then,
I sometimes think I hear,
That beseeching wind,
Whispering it's invitation,
To my waiting ears?
Then barely contain myself,
Until I must return.
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 2:36 PM UTC
I saw you every day in second period
we talked when we were supposed to be reading
i always sat half turned around in my seat
we always played footsies
we always hugged at the end of class
i always glanced at you at break when you were with your friends
i always stopped at your locker before 5th
we always walked to class
we always got stares from the teacher like she knew what was up
we always sat together in chapel
we always sat close and nudged each other
we always exchanged glances before 6th
you always walked me to my car after school
we always texted 24/7
we alway hung out before your practices
we always went out on fridays
we always kissed passionately
we always cuddled in the movies
we always had fun
we were always together
now we don't speak
now we don't make eye contact
now we sit on opposite rooms and read along in class
now i try to sneak glances at you
now i just hope you look back
now i try not to look at you and her at break
now i walk past your locker
now we pretend to not see each other when we walk by
now we sit apart in chapel
now we don't text
now we hang out with our own friends on fridays
now we talk to our friends after school
now we sit solitarily in movies
now we are never together
but the only thing that hasn't changed
is my love for you
that will always remain
i hope you know that
Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 6:28 AM UTC
...And in the Grand Birthing Room
As your soul chooses its lane
They only speak of glory,
Not of the anger or pain.
They paint such lovely pictures
Of your songs that they will sing,
Not breathing a word of loss,
Or the hurt that Man will bring.
And that one choice is all yours:
How are you going to live life?
Unimportant, unwanted?
Holed up away from the strife?
Do you march with guns blazing?
Do you toe the cowards’ line?
Will you give it all of you?
Will you sit ,and cry, and whine?
Will you forget Destiny
As you rip your soul with Love?
Will you remember the Light
That sent you down from Above?
Do you beg for redemption?
Will you forge a brighter day?
Will you build heaven’s kingdom?
Do you bring a better way?
For, in the Grand Birthing Room
Each one of us has a plan
Granted by the Great Cosmos
To achieve all that we can.
Its completion lies in us
‘All are Architects of Fate’,
And in the Grand Birthing Room
We’re all the same measure of Great.
And then we arrived on Earth
With the curse of Human-Born.
We were alone and tribe-less
We felt disowned and forlorn.
And we screamed and wept with fear,
Solitarily confined.
It takes each of us some time
To truly learn and unwind.
Now Time has reached our doorstep
After we learned and unwound.
Us Human-Born learned fast how
To suffer without a sound.
Which begs me to ask, oh Man
Is not to suffer, the goal?
Then rip my heart open now,
Put a void into my soul.
For to suffer and to love
Where Human souls intertwine
Is the reason why I chose
This treacherous path of mine...
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 3:14 AM UTC
Isolated.
Solitarily in silence sitting.
It's fine!
She moves slow here; time.
Not to linger but fester,
To remind of misery.
Not to comfort but pester,
nag does she.
Hold in place
lure tantalisingly.
Motivation nowhere to be found
Gagged tied and bound.
I'm not getting out of this anytime soon
It's fine.
I'll survive.
For now I sit dazed,
ignoring the outside;
locked in my haven.
An insomniac reluctantly lucid from midnight to noon.
In melancholic glee
trapped in my room.
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 2:43 AM UTC
Silhouettes drifting, quite sublime in form, unique textural complexities
Dynamics weave in wonder at the fluidity of synchronicity
Vibrations hum smoothly, accelerate, collide, seeking equilibrium
Some blend melodically, in harmony
Some ricochet, as frenzied firecrackers
Some float, solitarily gay in abandon, at peace
Some flounder, achingly heavy, in pain
Some swoop, diving velocity, as allegro
Some embrace, paradisal momentum, at ease
All mingling and striking some chord
Executing perfectly ethereal orchestrations of no composition
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 1:01 PM UTC
As the shackles tighten,
My heart begins to contract,
Solitarily confined in such dreadful darkness,
I anticipate mortality as it slowly maneuvers itself to me,
Battling such evil created within,
I hold myself prisoner to my own uncontrolled psyche.
This misery has no escape route,
The light dances around me,
Forever I'll be strained by worn out emotions,
Chained to despondency until my heart stops the beat,
As these shackles reach maximum strength,
Leaving my hands held captive to my own misgivings.
Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 8:16 AM UTC
I once heard that art is most beautiful when imitateing life . I never understood this; imitation infers a falsehood, a lack of authenticity. Art can only be what it is, unapologetically,It can’t build a facade.
I ,the one who is deemed alive, lie habitually to those around me and worse my self.
I am a performer playing the part of least resistance and greatness propitiation. Solitarily contemplating a collective I want to both develop beyond the horizon or envelop in the flames of a star.
conundrums are the base of these self destructive edifice. Best escape is outside of self, either on the wall in the air or on a shelf.
Now who imitates who,
When One feels most real imitating art?
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 10:05 PM UTC
The world is falling asleep on me
Everyone gets their heavy burdened body
Lands on the mattress with a thump and unloads
All their troubles on me
And hey, I'm not complaining, a bed is made to be used
And it's good to be needed, isn't it?
But just sometimes it isn't enough;
Standing solitarily with the weight, oh the weight
There is nothing and no one I can turn to
Or maybe there is but I just like wallowing in self-pity
Either way, all that I know is that the pressure, it's becoming too much
I might crack.
May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 3:40 PM UTC
I lay here solitarily
my energy sapped from
lesions of my life
everything is useless
the only thing
left is the light
of the candle
burning in my heart
swaying dimmer
each night
as I lay
expectantly
in wait
of her
final
call
Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 8:35 PM UTC
Come now, let’s go
If not today then tommorow
Lest we say here in solemn sorrow.
Come on, then, let’s go.
Forget the churches, forget the schools
We live and love according to our own rule.
If it means the death of us,
then we’ll go out without a fuss.
Because to live solitarily
In comparison to tyranny
Is worth every cent of currency.
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 4:24 PM UTC
You can tell a lot about someone from how they describe themselves,
Or what they tell you when you ask them about themselves.
You can see it in how much they talk about you,
Or the look they get when you perceive that they are thinking about you.
You can tell by how close they keep you whether you're an enemy,
Or a friend.
You can tell by the frequency of gestures
Or smiles in the hall
Whether they regard you as an acquaintance.
You'll always know when they give you their heart-
And then they give you their all from the very start of things
It warms you from the inside out.
You seldom think about the paths down which you will travel with the ones you love,
But when you look into their faces
You see a mirror of who you're becoming.
The past is in, it's all about the funny coincidences, the secrets you share,
When you first cried together and why-
Your love for each other isn't meant to be kept in a closet,
No matter who has come out (does it really matter at all?)
Just be there, please, to hold the door open for me.
The art of friend love is dying and I've been trying to keep us alive.
I just want to say that when I see a new face,
I'm not letting the good times slip away.
I'm trying to preserve us like wax in other peoples' hearts
Until we call catch fire
And we burn like a fire-
And when it's all almost over,
We can slow down together
And melt with eachother.
Love is patient, love is kind-
Love doesn't judge
Love somehow brings us together to judge,
Strange as it seems to the solitarily righteous.
Love is old, love is new
Love is all, love is you.
And love is being friends with you...
Friend love with you, it's all I've known.
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 10:28 AM UTC
here is the cold
heralding my bones.
shivering in the cranial
are the spine of many visions.
here is the announcement
of it in mid-step:
space is our station.
movement's tenure is endless -
a separate illusion
bleak like an unwanted behemoth,
gnawing the skin like
a raged lover would
in summery heat of body.
here is the miracle
of its pursuit:
mind extricates itself
from frame morphing solitarily,
squandering the mist
of this inward-breaking commune.
like a prisoner swallowed
by a garrison, lapping in recalcitrant afterthought,
eyeing for conflagrations.
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 12:28 AM UTC
All of space, all of time, all of man;
Inevitably doomed to find,
All will end in utter darkness, condemned and ****
Thrusting forth is a new mankind,
May these be our guide to the source;
Like oil separated water, these spirits cut the darkness.
The Torch Bearer's light pierces through, like a blinding force;
May these be the souls of our brothers and sisters bless.
May this be the marking of a new beginning, a revolution!
May the taught question their institution,
Let them seek what is truth, what is real.
These are the Torch Bearers,
Their souls hidden, their faces they conceal.
I will join this order of peacemakers: bringers of hope,
Not bringers of terrors;
Though, I have but one reservation:
To let my light shine the brightest.
I wish not the be the one to act as perfection in example,
Better yet still, an example, this light reveals all my lowest.
Lower still would I be if I hid, never to confront that which so simple;
Denial of my wrong, of the falsehood of man, of my ego.
Come forthwith, follow me.
Hand me your eyes and I will change all you see.
Lend me your mind, as I will challenge it presently.
Your heart is yours to choose: for me I may fail you,
Or for you to rot solitarily.
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 8:03 AM UTC
my poetry was trying
to be something:
pretty, deep, unique
as if cosmic recycling
can ever be solitarily
special
that’s all just
suped-up vanity
lighting one’s own face
now I just try to paint
authentic real on
my vanilla ***
with crinoline skirts
flung overhead
Dec 1, 2017
Dec 1, 2017 at 3:05 AM UTC
A cool walk in the fading sun,
nothing but the
Scratch of my boots on the ice
Life can be so
...Solitarily uncomplicated
I wish it was like that more
me.gs
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 7:43 PM UTC
The Breeze is alone,
For years .... It has blown,
Over the flowers.. over the sand,
Unnoticed, unimportant always bland,
Yet,
Waited for and sought,
Wanted it is and wished for a lot,
Soothing... and caressing the hair,
Kissing the cheeks when solitarily you stare,
Whistles it blows... When lonely you feel,
Fragrance of flowers ... For you it steals,
For you it's still.. for you it blows,
For you it dies and for you it grows,
With you it laughs and with you it cries,
Over the hills, battling the skies.
Who's your Breeze? Do try to find,
That One Unique.. with whom you bind,
Whose being never seen but felt,
For you whose heart will always melt,
Around you always and forever,
In the misery ..who will leave you never,
When you find the sheer stranger though..
Don't let him leave , don't let him go,
For
It's your Light, your Life, your Breeze. ..
Small gestures of care will make It Please.
Dec 17, 2019
Dec 17, 2019 at 12:16 AM UTC
Who will put me out of this misery
a jester of imaginable consequences
where life is extinguished and nothing
is of consequence but silence is breathe.
I want to see only darkness this is my
bequest, but I am alone in this challenge
of thought over what is inevitably next.
Do you know that a cut only hurts with
the first ****** then comes the tears of
what comes next. not from emotions not that.
No from a wrist that was in momentary pain
but now is lingering at an arched angle.
Watching with solitarily stare a river bleeds out.
This is a relapse of emotions that like repetition
gave the same thoughts but on different endings
that have now ended how the thoughts first begun.
Aug 5, 2016
Aug 5, 2016 at 5:13 PM UTC