"souled" poems
Fly, Dragonfly, fly!
Spread your wings and flex your tail
take off to the skies, follow the blowing winds!
Leave behind the Wicked Men of Hollowing Trail
and escape the poisons of their worded sins
Fly, Dragonfly, fly!
Race, Dragonfly, race!
Sweep your wings back against the windy skies
Let your heart propel your spirited sprint faster! Faster!
Escape from the Forest of Unnerving Lies
and the creatures of the Lost Souled ********
Race, Dragonfly, race!
Hunt, Dragonfly, hunt!
Beat your wings to the sounds of the butterflies
Feed your hunger for protecting the meek
with the haunting taste of Honey-Soaked Flies
and the sting of Sugar-Coated Bees
Hunt, Dragonfly, hunt!
Rest, Dragonfly, rest!
Allow the venom to still your beatful wings
Let the swift death claim a Hero's life
Beckon the Raven of Heaven to blissfully sing
to the tune of the Stalking Sparrow's whistling knife
Rest, Dragonfly, rest!
Dec 26, 2011
Dec 26, 2011 at 1:25 PM UTC
daily provisioning
wallet watch testicles spectacles
cash (single bills) cell phone
bottle of water hairbrush with vanity attached,
personal technology baggie
(earbuds, variety of charging cords etc.)
loose change in order to fall from pockets & annoy yourself
sunglasses (idiot! summers half over) and something else...
pocket tissues!
skin and bone, muscle, all flavors and multilayers,
a language of music only you hear,
the pumping station internal, the gaga motion
product of the palette of body following souled emotions,
the antacid pills after that burrito;
and that strangely named thang called
libido?
your teeth your smile, your shyest guile,
to catch that lady’s hopefully.
reciprocated pearly whites delight,
pen and pad to record being a sad and mad good lad,
a Swiss Army knife if the tube or bus
should (will) breakdown,
your tiny little bottles of
inspiration perspiration and perspective,
that you forgot to
label
the list to do and the list
to add to the to do list
and good heavens,
a serious writing utensil
to fool yourself when
thinking serious thoughts like
these
the last but should be first,
the house keys!!
keys just an enabler
to do it all again
tomorrow
July 11, 2018 10:22pm
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 9:15 AM UTC
Contemptuous of his home beyond
The village and the village pond,
A large-souled Frog who spurned each byeway,
Hopped along the imperial highway.
Nor grunting pig nor barking dog
Could disconcert so great a frog.
The morning dew was lingering yet
His sides to cool, his tongue to wet;
The night dew when the night should come
A travelled frog would send him home.
Not so, alas! the wayside grass
Sees him no more:--not so, alas!
A broadwheeled waggon unawares
Ran him down, his joys, his cares.
From dying choke one feeble croak
The Frog's perpetual silence broke:
"Ye buoyant Frogs, ye great and small,
Even I am mortal after all.
My road to Fame turns out a wry way:
I perish on this hideous highway,-
Oh for my old familiar byeway!"
The choking Frog sobbed and was gone:
The waggoner strode whistling on.
Unconscious of the carnage done,
Whistling that waggoner strode on,
Whistling (it may have happened so)
"A Froggy would a-wooing go:"
A hypothetic frog trolled he
Obtuse to a reality.
O rich and poor, O great and small,
Such oversights beset us all:
The mangled frog abides incog,
The uninteresting actual frog;
The hypothetic frog alone
Is the one frog we dwell upon.
3.7k
Ware, nor of good nor ill, what aim hath act?
Without its ****** death, what savour hath
Life? an impeccable machine, exact
He paces an inane and pointless path
To glut brute appetites, his sole content
How tedious were he fit to comprehend
Himself! More, this our noble element
Of fire in nature, love in spirit, unkenned
Life hath no spring, no axle, and no end.
His body a bloody-ruby radiant
With noble passion, sun-souled Lucifer
Swept through the dawn colossal, swift aslant
On Eden's imbecile perimeter.
He blessed nonentity with every curse
And spiced with sorrow the dull soul of sense,
Breathed life into the sterile universe,
With Love and Knowledge drove out innocence
The Key of Joy is disobedience.
3.7k
#
All of those people around you, hoping just for a glimpse of
something from the mental health care world
that could give them even just one reason to stay
.. And all around you they are dying
while you cater to your own, vain emptiness.
Credentialed now, everyone loves you.
And still all around you,
the ones you were meant to be here for, die.
**** your fake humility, oh empty one.
**** your fake friends, and self-serving peers.
**** your self centered, empty-souled vanity.
All around you, they are dying.
And will continue to die.
You were the one.
One behalf of all the fallen..
and those who sadly will one day all alone, fall.
On behalf of them all:
F U C K Y O U.
#
Nov 3, 2022
Nov 3, 2022 at 10:55 PM UTC
in my spotless mind,
i had a blue dream.
deep in limbo.
somewhere in the ocean..
wading.
with my lover.
do you remember?
no?
well, it's cool.
with promises of eternal sunshine,
we wade a little deeper.
he holds me close & whispers in my ear,
**"you're so brave."**
we wade further until we are completely submerged.
floating deeper & deeper,
i felt the pressure and grimaced.
he mouths to me,
*"why aren't you smiling?"*
i grasped his hand firmly and pulled him toward me.
in his arms, we kicked until we resurfaced.
he smiled at me and I smiled back.
we kissed; he tasted salty.
we swam to shore.
we sat on the beach in a tight embrace.
he kisses my hair and says,
**"I live for your love, die for your love."**
I whispered,
"and I do you."
I look up at him.
"pretty bird", he breathes.
**and in that moment, I knew that I was souled out for him.**
{r.r.r.w}
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 8:17 PM UTC
If you sit beside me
Perhaps you will see
Life is but a dream
Life is full of wonder
And beautiful
Mysterious things
My life is splendid
And lovely to my dismay
It is not without blemish
It is not perfect or in a regretful way
My life is full of golden peaks
Made of heart and soul
An abundance of love
Unselfish and whole souled
In the prime of my life
A humble man set my soul afire
He is my saving grace
My knight-and-shining armor
All these days
You have loved me tenderly
You help fill a childhood void
You love me unconditionally
You love me whole-heartedly
You love me unselfishly
You are compassionate
Sympathetic and kind
You are affectionate
And never to tire of me
I will love you
Eternally
Jun 28, 2010
Jun 28, 2010 at 9:24 PM UTC
Letting the ivy roam...
Moonlight serenade, to a begun favor:
Sense in a gentler breeze, the thought to own
A grace, a fastidious space, for a little face...
Pink, the through and due, irony we seldom
Stink and prosper, the alienation we souled?
Together in legend, we tell a tale to a God's question:
Letting the ivy see, is a redress of futures, fools?
Paces and setting a catch, of futures in the light?
A wavering kiss, and the doles of redemption
Have their solemn kin, taken to remembering a night?
My name is a person, order and truth, to another selection...
Of hearts or the ivy...
Spare to fore, we conceive a notion
Made to tailor, a secret, an irony sighed...
Like the bird it was, a concern that lead to devotion...
Ivy sleeps, shadows play...
In the breeds we assume are, the peace of decency...
That has awoken, and seen the sun come, for why...?
Persuade a kind from dread, our fruit is a gift of agony...?
Building halts; continuing salt...
When has a legend presumed finish, of soon's reasons?
The tow of exception, is a wind to defer to a copious fall?
Looking ivy in the eye, asking nix for not, a needs seasons?
The fight is brutal, letting ivy is like a breath between friends
Aching at the completed hour, the duty of they and strange smiles
Set in similar pasts to a redefining must, that only with help, lends
A role no greater than now, a whisper that ended a world's defiled?
Ivy wants your life for a silence...
Ivy has the stomach to turn direction into beauty...
Ivy seemingly aloof, to worth to realize a gift is fast, to the chin...
Ivy knows you, like a taken privilege on the other side of saying we...
Jan 18, 2023
Jan 18, 2023 at 9:06 PM UTC
A silhouette leaned back
Grey smoke distorted features demure;
Swirls riddled—smooth jazz syncopation
Her rouge lips cut through
The darkness.
She took a long drag on her
Cigarette, smoke rings evaporated
A halo around her.
Midnight blue eyes surveyed
The Bijou Café
Carpet pooled on the floor,
Blood soaked with wine,
Enclosed by onyx sheets,
The far wall a mirror.
A reflection of the souled and soulless.
Bar welcome strangers, friends,
The lonely.
Sharing drinks and memories
Vines intertwined customers
A perchance meeting;
Rendezvous of sorts.
Nameless faces and acquaintances
Dotted the room, a familiar skyline.
Lonely tower missing.
Smooth black fedora
Hearts sank ships as
Waves of embarrassment
Enveloped her; disappointment.
Crestfallen her eyes downtrodden
Soared with a door creak.
Black fedora entered,
Smooth—slick as oil
Eyes were hidden beneath
A veil of night;
Silence became him.
Hush fell on the crowd
As the shadow took the stage
Light pierced through,
Illuminating him.
Orbs locked
Reservation started to pass,
Voice velvet smooth
Played every heartstring
Notes of excitement
Tantalized her veins,
Pulse quickened;
Echoing every tempo change.
Music coursed through her being
Sensual; seductive
Notes caressed curves, valleys
Spaces in between.
Emotion—chord dependent
Voice penetrated skin
Music flowed through her.
A mountain peek high
Mind clouded—
Breath escaped her lungs.
Quiet murmur answered her comedown
An empty stage; stalwart eyes
Fingers replaced music
Lips brushed hers; taste—electric
Smile turned smirk; hollow presence
Musky cologne in wake.
Magnetic pull forward
Fedora exited
Midnight eyes transformed to dawn;
Abandoned beneath the awning
Familiar skyline flowed liquid.
Bijou Café
Neon sign loomed dark
Save for a letter
I illuminated.
Heart tendrils retreated,
Back to roots; betrayed
Tears turned to water
Liquid guilt—love died.
Fingers loosed
Memory;
Small matchbook of shame
Lingering of once upon a time
In the gutter; pouring rain.
Feb 19, 2010
Feb 19, 2010 at 7:56 PM UTC
From: Life is a ***** Quotes;
"The *** was
so good even the neighbors
had a cigerette"
'Hahaha good one' I said
'and even better yet'
(the *** (souled union) 'with and no one dared'
'lit one up'
'and called it ever after'
'for the inner fire glow'
'merged with thee outer'
'already and forever willing'
'in the truer feng shui'd'
'human endeavor'
'in the tantric'
(say like dow)
'Tao'
(and mean as way)
'of'
'All'
(be)
'Being'
That is love truely expressing itself through oneness with the One Law of Love!!!
The X (factor) is yours and possibility is interdependent upon the X of you!!!
From the Eternal and smokeless fire, Sa Sa Sunny
Sep 29, 2012
Sep 29, 2012 at 5:08 PM UTC
we think from opposite sides of the bed and dance around the idea of us, but it'll only make things harder because we use each other on nights where ****** **** and cheap liquor aren't enough to keep us from tearing apart. so instead we tear off our clothes and pretend nothing is wrong, pretend we don't want this to be more complicated, pretend we don't want us, pretend we're both not falling apart
but we are and you feel it too, but what happens when one of us doesn't? we both lose a friend and a lover at the same time and i don't know what i'll do without you in my life so i keep a distance and we try not to complicate things but we already fell in love before any of this happened, we never had meaningless no-strings-attached *** the strings were attached and you knew it too. but we pressed on as if nothing was about to go awry. this was inevitable.
you and i used to tell each other the world, we used to say everything that was in our minds but what's on our minds now is too heavy a weight to bear on two broken-souled teenagers who just wanted something simple. we never asked to fall in love. we started from the wrong end of a relationship, there's no turning back and we can't start over. it's time we stopped pretending.
i roll over to your side of the bed. you wrap your arms around me and pull me in so tightly i wonder if we're fused together. we both refuse to acknowledge our feelings. we pretend it's platonic, the way you kiss me on the forehead, the way i hold your hand, the way we look at each other. for a moment we look into each other's eyes and consider our feelings, but we look away and you pull me in closer. we stay like that, listening to the raindrops on your bedroom window and longing for each other even with my head against your chest.
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 10:53 AM UTC
She is six, and searching for answers to questions that she cannot yet ask.
Baby, I tell her,
There are things that are broken,
And people with hearts like hammers that are trying to fix them,
Bang! Bang! Bang! Build.
Sweet-souled strangers, tending this planets bruises,
Sharing in its peoples pain.
There are children without water,
Women half dead from bearing them,
People in fear for their lives for speaking of forbidden futures, believing in the wrong god, or no god,
Or worshipping the right god wrong.
Starvation, disease, segregation, genocide, despair,
Beings in agony; others angry, warped, with sad, distorted minds,
The symptoms of a sick and stunted world.
Baby, I tell her,
You will find words to frame the questions that right now I can see behind your eyes.
You are the daughter of a dreamer,
You are trying to find your stories,
Your heart will be a hammer,
Driving your words into this weary, war-fatigued world,
Bang! Bang! Bang! Build.
It cannot be borne, it will not be borne.
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 5:25 PM UTC
My soul ached
For his skin and bones
And all the beating somethings in between-
That nothing,
Perhaps not even time,
Could revoke the hormone-driven,
Empty-souled desire I had
For every participle of his being
To deluge me through my core
And past every withering remain
Of sanity or stability
I so feebly clung to.
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 5:58 PM UTC
I walked around the world today
and tried to count my steps
But everything that came my way
just took away my breath
Shortened, strained and surface deep
I felt my chest release
Quiet whispers I'd not keep
for they would one day cease
Blurry eyed and hazy souled
I spilled into the dark
Ill prepared and not yet gold
I'd barely felt a spark
Nothing etched into my life
'cause my degree was low
Patience weathered turned to strife
so I would never glow
Sipping words too hot to touch
I'd burned up what's inside
Insensitive and calloused much
my skull had opened wide
Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 9:25 AM UTC
1.
There once was a couple of cats
Who engaged in continuous spats.
The result was a tie
When each scratched out an eye –
An old-Biblical *** for a tat!
The cats awoke bleeding and weak
And half-seeing the havoc they'd wreaked
They discarded their clothes,
Their backsides to expose –
A new-Biblical turning of cheek!
2.
There once was a man, oh so brave,
Who would sleep in a hole, called a grave ...
Well, he being the host
To so many a ghost,
He arranged a big bash, called a rave
3.
In days of Neanderthal knaves
When the men ruled like kings in their caves
And not being too keen
About keeping them clean ...
Often took on some wives, called them slaves
4.
There once was a man with a stave
Overseeing a holy enclave ...
Well, maintaining a grin
While absolving the sin,
He assessed wicked tales and forgave
5.
There once was a monk with a wave
Who desired a head with a shave ...
Well, the barber was such
That she cut back too much
Thereby leaving his globus concave
6.
There once was a man in the nave,
Although pious he could not behave ...
But they paid him no mind,
’Cause his name was maligned,
Being simply a sinner to save
7.
There once was a man quite depraved
A voluptuous life was thus craved ...
Well, continuous sin
Ended doing him in –
On his tombstone they carved ‘Misbehaved’
8.
Antoine is a Vampire Ghoul,
Quite barbaric, bloodthirsty and cruel,
With a fang in your throat
He’ll **** slowly and gloat
With a smile as you whimper and mewl.
9.
There once was a raven haired Shrink
Who had orange Juice Tequilas to drink.
Well her scarlet souled Beau
****** her tinted red Toe
And she paled when he tickled her Pink.
10.
There once was a travelling sage
Who yet lived to a very old age.
Well, becoming quite senile,
With problems (yes, ******
He packed his wee trunk in a rage.
11.
There once was a Nun and a Druid
Exchanging some ****** fluid,
When along strode the Father
Who heard all the bother,
Lost stickum while coming unglu..ed.
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 1:08 PM UTC
I have come through
the wildfires and
abject poverty.
The sardine days filled
with ghoulish women and
cowardly men.
Now, I have four
walls, and a table to
write at.
I've decorated my castle:
pictures and tapestries,
a raven figurine sitting
on a stump by the aloe vera.
I have a bookshelf from
the curb; all my
favorites are on it.
I turned my brother onto,
A Confederacy of Dunces
I hear him laugh from his
4 walls.
He escaped the
parasitical nights and the
neon souled undead.
It's a great life if
you don't succumb to
the crowd and the slugs that
just slide on through.
Now, it's the simple
things that bring me pleasure:
house plants, coffee brewing,
and the sound of my
neighbor watering his grass.
I think I will get a goldfish.
All perfect and orange.
And on the fringe, I hear
that feral cat, howling in
the night, without his
4 walls.
Oct 17, 2023
Oct 17, 2023 at 3:52 PM UTC
You shout and scream
Angrily saying words that you don’t mean
And in the heat of the moment
You’re only looking to burn everything that you see
Because you my love, are an Arsonist
You and I are tangled in a web of miscommunication
Whereby you speak a different kind of English-
A dialect where I hate you translates into I love you
And the bruises that you cover me with,
Are just secret poems that you leave on my skin
I don’t understand the poems though,
For they were poems written in an ancient alphabet;
A one that is undecipherable to the rest of the world-
Only because you are the misunderstood lover
That is speaking in tongues that no one has heard yet
So I laid there bare as you read them aloud to me
All broken souled and on your knees,
And I saw the shame in your famished figure
While you stuttered and recited your apology.
You always told me that you loved me through a broken telephone,
Why?
And made me promises that I knew could not be kept,
Why?
I heard you say that that time, was the last time…
But all that your words are are simply tongue twisters
In a perpetual game of Chinese whispers
By: Lulwama Kuto Mulalu
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 1:13 AM UTC
and I will absolutely be positive!
even while I stalk your words,
even when there words that make me want to cry,
even when there words that speak of such simple things,
you make them so much more,
even when there words that make other words seem meaningless,
even when you point out the uglyness in our world,
I will chose to only see the beauty,
and love it,
and when people chose not to be kind,
you have to do away with them,
and love the kind souled people,
because there all that are going to matter in this world,
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 11:39 PM UTC
And the letter came:
And you thumbed, humbled, over it and over
An hundred times a week, you took it out
Pouring each word over again
As for the first time, it still was
And blotchy it was from tears
And tips, nervous fingers which pulled little rips
Into the off-white paper, where much strong handling bore
Each time's grief bearing need: you read it, nothing more
Seen differently; surely always the same, yet nuances
Came despite instinctual knowledge of before;
Did this sentence- this wording style preferred it
That he might mean only just that- or was it
Imagination's sullied creation? did those words
Sound tired; and if very thought of you
Became fatigue, was it the plague of his precious pen, or brain
Or just the worry of his own entrenchment there?
Even so; sometimes you read familiar words
That joy shouted from, certain as could be.
Times when you felt uneasy, queasy at one word
Or phrase, as if a ringing death-knell must have
Rang: to spell out the end of time's bitter being-
Crossed yourself, three times; and said a beaded prayer.
The letter came to be important to you that this
Could cause everything to cease; a hunt driven
Feverish, once it went missing where from out it's pocket-house
(deeply as when you bent under the trees..
to pick up crying children in their frail need) it leaped.
And when one day unfolding, the letter dropped into your lap
Pieces neat piled into sections; folds perforated through
Because so nearly worn out; stained, thin-souled as grief itself
Heart treasure map woven in lover's lace; bequeathed
And then realized: there no other letter ever was or be;
If never sent, gone missing; you'd pinned all quickened heart beats
Stayed hope's courage upon a single letter's fate, and it
Carried through the fears, saw above the swarming years
Sleepless nights when, no tears left, it swam: you gathered up the limp
Damp, feathered pieces and stowed them safe for keeping
Knowing some day again, when things were not the same
And finding them you would remember, this single letter
By which all hope then was given, your hope that came
As a single letter; came due south, straight down from heaven..
Mar 26, 2010
Mar 26, 2010 at 6:51 AM UTC
A black man souled me my religion with his silhouetted blues and glit'ring worlds
Carved my faith with an old fashioned mic and tilted cap
I was a product of societies blue eyes and blonde hair
Trapped behind the funeral veil being poured into our rivers from the polluted pipes of reality
I watched God's eye as they scanned the deserted souls of our landscape
Wept floods of sorrow through our illusioned damns of hope
Leaving us alone to tend to the graveyard of our dreams
Questioning the mimicing raven, that can only give the answers we never wanted to hear. . .
But crying would be fruitless if we could see what's coming
Like fishing in the mutated waters of society
Shocking, but expected
Then again leaving the hook and closing the window would just make us irresponsible
So we slip into the sleeping game of time, sliding under the covers of trust
Hoping to find a shield from the boogie man in the sheets
Only to find that the boogie man rest here too
Puts good night kisses in the pillow cases to poison my dreams
And along with these realizations comes the drying of my faith in the old fashioned mic and tilted cap
Because the black man that souled me my religion forgot to mention that all that glitters, is not gold
Aug 22, 2010
Aug 22, 2010 at 5:40 PM UTC
A luz febril da infância rompe pelo milharal dourado.
O Rei Sol adormece, para lá do âmbito,
para lá do Fim dos Tempos.
Não será a última vez.
***
The feverish light of infancy
strikes deep
in thru the golden cornfields.
Her sun souled feet
won’t stand still -
they rave the sand
of endless seas.
No life, no death,
just the ride in between.
Once upon a time
the gods made us
and we made them.
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 8:44 PM UTC
As all is wrong, as all is known, you're on your own, your teeth are honed.
It's vengeance's hour, gives hate so dour, how it empow'rs, all to devour.
All remedies, obscurities, benignities, are turned to sin.
As you begin, fear setting in: for only one of you can win.
This lovely dance, this deathly dance, once-in-life chance, you fall in trance,
And call for death, draw your last breath, as all is set, start this duet!
Your final trial, you share a smile, a hateful smile, respectful smile.
Passion is riled, made this worthwhile, all that is left: blood, sweat and bile.
You both are free, you met your peer, now you will see, that death is near.
Without a sound, you leap around, and strike the ground, your screams resound.
All be confound'd, no way around, 'tis fate you found, you're destin'-bound.
One of you falls, and damns it all, more pain enrolls: they've met their goal.
Your life they stole, death takes its toll, you lose your soul: this dance is whole.
Oh, what a strife, with death was rife, grandest celebration of life!
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 3:11 PM UTC
il colosseo roma in leather-scented dusk grips the night, marble hand on woman's thigh; these evening breaths are half-lit by awning lights and candle-flame laughter. waiters serve wanderers searching for home under the light of the half-moon – they don't tell us that these shores have too much mystery for us. some homelands are sun-steeped histories cradling darling secrets between ancient bricks, ancient tombs.
the amalfi coast whispers seashell lullabies to the old-souled man plying whiskers of melodies out of his tin-flute, traipsing in a pit-patter down the sandy road leading to the ocean beach. he watches drowsy-eyed windows blink pulses on the beach – they caress us to sleep in lulls and crescents.
the florentine memories are all mine - bacchan dreams; how you turned my head away from the window, wrapped me in whiteness like newborn's skin. you, the child of a mountain spring where gods were born - the softness in your neck betrays this to the doves. heartbeat an adagio in old italy, heather scent stirring the air like eye of newt in witches' brew. love, your body like a holy city – lamplit streets between dusk and dawn leave little to the wishes of the heart.
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 7:51 PM UTC
the sun does not set
automatic
trees of autumn do not
wither away its feathers
immediate
nor do the formation of
old souled clouds, or
the birth of flowers or
even death, even death
nature rots, and molds,
and decay, and spoils,
it all fades.
the childhood of lovers
consumed with these
slow deaths, through-
out the seasons, years
teach a simple moral
when the phone calls
become shorter, when
the meetings are more
meaningless, when the
plans are rescheduled,
they can blame the stars
for never just leaving,
always a subtle wave, or
a whisper goodnight, then
fading into someone else's
window or balcony, (they
have heard this story
before)
you called me and I called
back, you said "we don't
talk much" I agreed, I had
to go and I hung up before
you could've even say bye,
and that's kind of how its been for a while.
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 7:21 PM UTC