O, why but I am like t'is! Hath I, since t'at last sober night,
as th' wan, dull clouds crept nearby, been bequeathing
tragic, credulous insecurity to myself. Like t'at frail moonbeam
disturbed by starless rain! And a turbulent voyage
didst I take, alongst my dreary sleep, into th' grounds
of scythed lands-full of horror, nightmarish leaps,
and dire-some terrors. Why didst I do so! I hath come, to comprehend
not, why t'is turbulence of brave grossness seemeth like nothing else
but perniciously irredeemable, as though I accidentally, or even
consecutively-inflicted it, without the wakeful knowingst
of my brains. Indecipherable! T'is vacant delirium of mockery, and its abysmal hearth
inside-set alight by invisible flames-torches of hell, and gruesome
shrugs of untimely malevolence. Insatiable deployment, indeed! How
miraculous it would be, should I be free from t'is inconvenience
in th' course of some upcoming days, but still, doth I hope so!
Waggish remarks, jests, and playful turns of ancient riddling-
areth but exchanged outside, with airs so snobbish, from t'ose
pampered youngeth dames, blind to t'eir silenced world's grievous
suffering, and laborous perspiration. How unfair t'eir fiendish hearts areth-
once and againeth-sneering at th' pure, stoical beds of t'ose airy rivers,
andth t'eir dim solitude, with t'ose rings of presumptuous laughter!
Spaciousness in its holy sphere, untouched by th' turmoil t'at lingers on it
surface, neither driven away nor shaken by ungratefulness. Toil
improperly apprehended! And insulted as it might become, tenderness
shalt it leave behind, insolence but be crafted along th' insidious rims
of its face. Marvelous in wild ways! Wild, devilish ways! And unwatched
by th' stomping blokes on its visage, shalt it rise, rise like an unforgiving
tidal wave, soulless in its aliveness, blighting and scratching
t'eir shoulders, with blades unmarred-dormant powers t'at ought not
to be ignored by seconds t'at feebly tick away. And t'eir ends
shalt 'ey meet, granted liberally by t'eir
deliberate neglect, and repulsive indulgence.

In th' nothingness of aggravation I am but naturally not a hard-hearted creature,
too of a stony appearance I possess not-intimate and even, t'at should be how
my being is paraphrased mercifully! With t'ose perpetual-and even limitless-
replenishing jewels of ardour, flawed only by harmless faults, I would consider myself treasured
by nature, o t'at precious creature whom hath so adorably vouchsafed t'is
spring-like life to me; warmth can I gratefully feel in t'is winter every day,
in my prayers, studies, and amongst t'ose invigorating fits
of my daily perambulations. How truthful, aye t'is confession is made! As I am
but a pious, sanctified child, ye' in spite of being a humaneth as I am, a snake is bound
to dwell within my *****, asleep in its quiet slumbers, unawakened so long
as I unbetray my redolent virtues.
But last night! How nigh my soul from t'at anxious burst of agitation,
melancholiness so undesired but abruptly avenged my silence. My indulgent
silence! Th' one frame of my unresting mind t'at I so fastidiously preserved!
Hatred encountered my countenance, and bifurcated my ******
dispositions; flew into anger then I-so sudden as gripped my soul was
by paths of hostility sent onto me-overwhelmed by t'is ineloquent treatment,
howled in despair, and agony was all I felt within my cheerless heart-
until everything amounted into a blurry shadow-insignificant as it was,
but th' fraud was still t'ere-stupefying desire, so ardent within th' leaves
of my conscience, to slaughter even th' most innocent skins-
'till no more breath t'ey shalt but gasp for. And triumph shalt I procure,
ascendancy shalt be painted onto my palms, and opulent pride shalt I be
endowed with, so unlike all t'is hateful remorse, and slithering chastisement!
Amongst t'ose seas of disillusionment; whilst frowning in desperation-combusting
all t'ose wretched spirits wert all I wasth but able to think of;
and all I conjectured wert proven worthy of my thoughts. Inevitable! Entrenched
was its root-t'is flourishing tiny devil on my inner self, as it is-'till th' morning but
retreated and vanquished t'is gust of little hell, which had decoyed me
and my lithe genuineness like a trivial shell.

O dear! My flawless prince, hath thou but thoroughly gone from me?
Still, a painting of thy kiss roam silently th' rooms of my heart. Now scanty
as to emptiness, roaring fussily as to loneliness, for thy being unhere!
Distorted hath been now its breaths-adored only by groans
of misery-like caprices t'at laid unwanted, abhorred by t'eir masters-
for t'eir yesterday's pricelessness, and valuable crowns! How ungrateful masters,
my dear! And how t'eir proceedings shalt recall
t'ose pristine shines, yes, my dear, (of my golden gems) t'at areth gone,
with unsounding returns t'at are unexplainable, and too unattainable-
and shalt remain dim be t'eir whereabouts, amongst t'ese winds
of fervent, but sultry days. O, come back, my love, come back to my arms,
and hate me not, for my threads are woven alongst thy charms-
ah, t'ose threads of life, of soulfulness, and unabashed mortality!
Clashes of feelings, emotions, and mutual usurpation
of endless infatuation. Chaste, and unimpure, passion! Yes, yes, my love-
t'at's how we ou't 'a be, next to t' fireside, lulling each ot'er to sleep,
and welcoming t'ose night dreams with hearts so dear, lullabies
so near to our ears, of t'at unwavering breaths of passion, and unchangeable
affection, for th' rest of our lives! Leave me not-once more, but stay hereth
with me, and make me forgive
and forget cheerethfully t'is seditious, thoughtless, but most of all
irresolute conflagration.

Forest inquires:

How do you decide, choose your design, find its guise,
give it a face, surrender to the poem's own
vanity,
        and choose the poem's alignment?


                                                  an­ answer forms:

this alignment idea,
you think it simple,
everybody understands
what your inquiry means

alignment -  the appropriate relative position

we live in relative position to each other, our poems too, for they are but written synapses of our close captioned interactions, seemingly random, but assuredly not, as we invest in ourselves, seeking the mysterious appropriate answer
                                                                ­                        from the Theory of Poetic Relativity

                                                   ­             i love your question;                              hold it to my nostrils,          
                                             ­             smell the coffee aroma wake up blast inherent;
                                                                ­      
 kiss its robust childlike cheeks for the simple   soulfulness essential arousal;
for you see sir you have found
the appropriate position that relates us, our mindful words;

                                 answer no good, wholly insufficient?
                                        perfect.
                          as i close this quick cooked to perfection laboratory solution, take note

                              
                            ­                        the earth has moved
                                our hearts have beaten a measly thousand times
                                    time and space have appropriated our prior
                                          
relativity

when you return years hence this poem's shape will perforce have moved. for words are weathered flux constant and yet inherently unchanged except for the part of us that changes with every re-reading  

and what was


**right before has left and the center has moved again

Aye, Vladimir, just before I met thee
I hath been sure I hath loved him-
no matter as queer as it may hath seemed!
Thou knowest not, how much tears I hath shredded
and noticest not, how t'eir vanity made me look dead!
But why-why then didst thou appear-
and wokest within me t'is secret fear-
with understanding in thy eyes,
and with a love t'at is to me so dear.
Why-why t'en thou left me, left me again!
Whenst I got to knowest thou but for a moment,
ah, with not so much of an endearment-
afforded ourselves only t'at streak of lovely,
but still weak of too a bond,
or any pact, of young novelty.
And everything was corrupt
As soon as thou re-released me
into t'ese qualms of insincerity
wherest I am still tossed about, guilty.
And hushed, hushed always,
like a trivial, parallel wind!
As though my dear heart's bathed in sin
and of a soul t'at is so thin
So worthy not of thy soulfulness
and sweet dreams of many happinesses.
Ah, Vladimir! If only thou could knowest
T'is thread of passion thou hath sowed
and how my entirety seekest being loved
By thee, and only by thee, o my rain!
As thou art but king to my sneaky moon
and my very own kingdom of stars
Not him-not him, o t'is I entreat,
albeit his wits hath been but to me so sweet.
Still he be a mistake, ah, a chilly autumn mistake
to me, from whom I didst just turn awake.
Probably thou would hath loved me;
imperishably and blindingly,
until all thy superb charms and wit
t'at wert but tortured and unbending
shalt be left within me lit;
and thus leaving our fiery souls entwined
with winds t'at art even sweeter
yet might be torturously everlasting.
Vladimir, Vladimir, oh my only Vladimir!
Thou altogether belongst with me; here,
so unjustly yet heavenly
And in our hands is cherished
our love, o, so wickedly-but fatefully!
How I longst to be thy lover, dearest-
and be so comely as thy only flower;
which ripens thickly in thy winter
and blooms robustly, in thy summer.

She rises and falls like a reposed breath
before an entire world's visage
in her encircled arms.
The incandescent glow of the stage
has an intoxicating quality to it,
the music being
something liquid, viscous.

As notes thrum in tender and soothing caresses,
her legs supple, twirl like petals
cascading under the weight of raindrops,
giving way to a lush surrender
steeped in a language of love and need.
Her very fire
and impassioned soulfulness
lifts her up above the crowd itself,
burning for all to see.

In this moment now
her timelessness enraptures me.
Another part of myself awakens to her grace
and renders me
gratefully whole.
A sense of euphoria slow dances its way
from her being to mine,
consuming every piece of my body
in a fiery bloom—
charging me with
a crackling, electrifying force
unlike my mere own.

I can see now
that this is what she was born to do—
to be on pointe, seeing everything.
Any instances of worldly fear
is left to the dying.
The rhythms of her old pains,
tribulations of past destructions,
are now buried beneath her feet.
And her radiant smile while she dances
still speaks to me gently—
that to be free
is to be wonderfully lost
in her waltz with destiny.

© BT

aromatic coffee awakens senses
   midst the gestured warmth of radiant
      smiles's 'tween morning brew,
reverently paused to catch
    the awe inspiring  poignancy
               of sunrise's exhilaration,
whilst cozily wrapped in the delightful unfurl
   of captivating poetry's skillful delectation
    a rising ritual begun many blue moons afore,
  tempting consciousness, feeding soulfulness
    enlightening sensibilities as it
        enriches the day's appreciation
               'pon the keen awareness of poets,
tempests from all niches of the world
   coming together amid upheavals and serenity,
ceremoniously dubbed fierce confirmations
      of words expressly borne, communing the
         artfully spirited of resourceful artisans,
     procuring special collective bonds that
               only poesy can wholly dictate,
they look upon us as enigmas
  rather strange breed of puzzling characters,
     as this inexplicable endeavor
        escapes their stifled perceptions
         of conduit's musing reasonable facsimile,
we're merely cognitive passages for
    experiences on common ground
       in realizations of all-too-human foibles
          eccentricities, yearnings and fortitude,
released deliverance of  potpourri
   serving up inky joy beyond expression,
    intention's distinction deciphering
      reflections in meditative affirmations,
breadth of unrestrained beholden visions
   conjured notions of paramount significance
       wherein lies evidence of life's burnt offerings,
beginnings and endings of hearts' indulgences
     wept in resolute  celebrations of existence

                *as only a poet could discernibly translate

If you are not depressed
Than i am not impressed
With your intellect
Nor the deceptive specks
Of irrelevance
That may have been missed
In perpetual happiness
Be appreciative
For happy minutes
Treat life kindly
Even when it grimaces
Only rewinding
Once it finishes
And the penance
Is paid
Merely stroll
Through soulfulness
Upon rivers of tears
And new beginnings
Merely passing through
The black and blue
Splintering fear
And lasting the innings
Making corrections
To loosely elected
Concepts
From little blessings
That test the water
Guessing the color
It may be dark here
But covered
In the covers
Of the comforts
Smothered
With others
Puckering
From the red shirts
Skirting through
The murk
And when feeling down
And drowning
Its our own hand
That pulls us out
Irrelevance stronger
Than the doubts
And now
We are still around
To scribble these
Scurrying sounds down
In tattered papers from storms
Formed of conformity
And informing peeps
That it is okay to feel ******
As long as you
Don't take anyone with you
Or fish for pity
Imploring you
To feel it through
Just being true
To everyone
But more importantly you
Moving beyond the crutches
Beyond the clutches
Of others than ourselves
But still giving them hell
Be about it
Give credit
Live in health
As hell is a state of mind
Made of fear in kind
To pale the rites of our time
To sty our ascension to the skies
And god is real
It lives
Its sealed
A given
But not what you think it is
You
Me
Everybody
Everything
In synchronicity
And you create the scenes
Then shed them away
Responsible for the things
You do and say
Man up
And feel some empathy
The beautiful pain is here to stay
The greatest heights
Contrasted
To the deepest lows
The demon lies
But the angel just goes
And the broom
It controls
Where the dirt goes
Ill never know
What tomorrow holds
Thumbing my nose
On that which is outside
Of my control
And i'm full
Of all that which
Makes me whole
The rain
The sun
The flame
And the coals
Promising more
The love is strong
But hearts get sore
To the point where
They don't feel anymore
And in their boredom
They become *******
But know
From whence
The wind blows
So grumble me this
And grumble me that
Watch me pull a jack ***
Outta my hat
And laugh
With you
Watch me caress
A kitten on my lap
And stab you
Positivity
It *******
Makes
Me puke
But i love you
Not

Notes, musical keys, rythmic changes-
A modification of the Word
Which purifies her soulfulness
And expresses clarities in the fog,
The hint of Dickinson in her words,
The scent of reality in her reflection,
     The words become a path:

One wet summer I heard your words,
The vibrant sky breaths
And the sun became as embers
Of poetic sacrifice,
Through reading your poem
I became as a double being,
Movement began
A sudden dispersion of birds
Followed by the Humm of water
On stone,
Murmurs of infinite moments
Painting them all like some
Poet Saint,
The words became a lineage
To the unfathomable depths of you,
In the helix of hours
The beat of the sea and the stilled
Shimmers of light on water can be found
In the edification of her poetry;

Master strokes,
Like a naked liberation
Of a diamond body beyond
A turquoise sunset,
A co concubine of words
That form constellated meanings
Among the pnumbra,
Reminiscent of the March of hours
In which the words come
And a fixed glitter in her eyes form,
The form of woman,
A form of dizziness
Like a dance of wind and water,
I read between the words,

    Vicki,
         Vicki,

I imagine a lamp in the middle
Of the night,
A pen and a womans scorching
Words as God had spoken
The First Word,
Like a moon in heat in midday's
Grasp, she counters every word
Of expression
Like a cell for my tortured soul,
She became my solitary star,
I wander in her hours,
Hungry for more words,
A memory inventing itself,
Masterfully,
She makes the sky walk the land.

Feelings masked
Under a boulder of
Suppression
Painted with smiles
To hide the frustration that was
Bubbling, bubbling
Inside, never escaping
Because it shouldn’t, right?
Fatality:
The consequence of a mistaken exposure of the
Achilles’ heel,
carefully veiled by
socks or such something,
Shrouded by indifference and a pretence of amnesia.

And yet, yet sometimes, sometimes
At the sight of the clear blue sky
Where two dreams had once soared together;
At the sound of the synced rhythm
Of the bell-like laughter
that still echoed
In the present silence of an absence;
At the memory of numbers,
The date of union,
The date of parting;
At the smell of small things -
Coffees and teas and wet earth and flowers
The preferences of which had been tiffs
Time and again, time and again
In a distant past;
At the taste of tears of another loved one,
That seasoned the bitter sorrow of loss
With tangy flavours
That left not ever the tongue.
Just sometimes, sometimes,
Even at the gentle
Trickling
               of
                 rain
That had once inspired a
Melodious dance of a now-truant soulfulness

Somewhere, something, sometimes
Cracks.

A hint of sheer pressed down sorrow
Visible in the gradually extinguishing eye
Heard in the reluctantly cracking voice
As one breaks
Shard by jagged shard
Falling out of a patched up soul
Like petals of a flower, counting:
Missing him, missing him not…
Missing him.
And a now porous wall
Leaves a gaping peephole to expose
A separate world full of hidden memories,
The reminder of which still always
leads to such an
Unprecedented
Moment of weakness.

I want to write about the debilitating soulfulness with which I love you and your broken heart and gentle hugs.

I can't seem to find the words to describe how soft the blue of your eyes is.

I can't find the right bat of my eyelashes to show you what my mind is wrapped around.

I cannot laugh in the right way to express bubbling joy, swelling memories.

My heart aches itself to the size of a quasar, begging to find a word greater than love.

One moment I am high
with the light of soulfulness within.
The next I am down
in the clutch of desire
and enticements.

Between intention and action,
That gap is filled with processes.
Mental. Emotional. Unknown.
What penetrates those recesses?

Between intention and action,
What moves across that connection?
Feeling. Need. Pain. Inertia. Fear.
What motivates that direction?

Between intention and action,
There is the indispensable.
Devotion. Love. Strength. Soulfulness.
Are our lives comprehensible?

Between intention and action,
Do we call on our sense of awe?
Pathos. Concentration. Wonder.
That’s where we enter kavanah.

When Im feeling like a Neglected Soul
The Presence Of The Most High Becomes Increasingly Mighty and Bold.
The Holy Spirit becomes So Strong that  My Flesh is overthrown and it knocks me Out cold.
I'm no longer in Control. The Messiah Overtakes and has a hold.
Upon entering into a Stillness
And Engaging at the Beauty of such realness
I can hear and feel this.....
Pure Silence, Peace and quiet.
Encountering this blissful moment in private.
In this place of dwelling
Here,  His grace and mercy is never failing
Here, His Unconditional Love abides
A place where Only God Resides.
A spiritual Realm
where in your loving arms is the Only place I can be found
Where I can leave behind the world and worries and enter into The Great escape.
In your spiritual agape, You My potter, mold me into shape.
This is a place that is hidden
Beyond Earth in another dimision
Even with my eyes Closed He still gives me vision.
A place where I'm drifting thru time and gracefully floating space.
This is our secret Place.
The place where I am safe and secure.
Now realizing All the Things I had to endure was for my personal growth so I could Mature.
Dimishing my mind and heart of the stress
Casting all my cares upon you in Exchange for my Rest.
You took away my brokeness
in exchange for soulfulness and wholesomeness.
Surely I am Blessed.
Happily, I give you Gratitude and Thankfulness!
Yahweh Is The Best.

I am unknown
No one hears my voice
My tears are shed in silence
The echo of my cry haunts me
Upon the sacred I’ve taken my pain

Cast into the ocean of endless prayer
When my eyes open I have no will in mind
My soulfulness has been emptied of its voice
I am alone, unknown, emptied out once again

The pains and the joys of an intercessor are left unmet in an undiscovered country
BB2013

I lay in bed
My heart as heavy as lead
Breathe , in and out
Tomorrow will come, there is no doubt

Brokenness, soulfulness, woefulness

Today, the sun has risen
Such a contradiction
Darkness  surrounding
Leaving the story unwritten

Ferociousness, outspokeness, emotionless

Yesterday, looking for a do over
Constantly looking over ones shoulder
Trying to remember
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder

Obtain soulfulness,lead with honest
above all be sincere
Rain will stop, sun will shine
When you lose all hope.
Remain calm with love
Pain will stop
Attain your confidence again
Obtain soulfulness, lead with honesty
Success,,,,,

close your heart
and feel the mirth...

a life of sigh
a prisoner of birth...

with you always
in my mind...

where is that feeling
forgetting your kind...

'm not begging you
to love me...

'm not really asking
for this to be...

but to cherish that hope
isn't it alright...

the hope in my heart
blazing so bright...

living a life
just in dreams...

flawless love
filled with screams...

dreaming about
just holding your hand...

with you all the time
wherever you stand...

the feeling of impugn
that will for sure hurt me...

but the truth in my eyes
that you'll always see...

try keeping my eyes
from shining when they see you...

those glittering waters
when my feelings are true...

and I promise, not to smile special
when you say hello...

but will kneel to you
with all soulfulness below...

but please don't ever ask me
not to love you...

for you are just so perfect
and 'm so incomplete without you...
@manauwer

Tethered by each breath
Can feel you move an inch
Lost in togetherness

Cold water to the moment
It stops the gears from turning
Your touch is longing

Is that the dawn coming ?
In my heart of hearts
I feel you, I am succumbing

To loves gentle touch
One of tenderness
Of compassion
And gracefulness

It is you, my only love
The one I give my breath
My heart and soulfulness

Pretty girl  you are
The most amazing gift
I will treasure and protect
Each part of us in foreverness

I vow to never condemn myself to the prison of a vigilant life.
I will not allow myself to be restrained by my own fears.

Despite my heart; racing hard as the feeling of danger overcomes me,
I will not let the dismay restrain me.
I will give in to the adrenalin - allow it to stampede it's way through my being.

My foreboding will not stop me - nothing will.
For I am free.

I will race with the wind, with no sense of my destination.
I will voyage with the trains - to where?  It doesn't matter.

I will recount my journeys to strangers - anyone who cares to listen.
I will listen to strangers too.
Wise strangers; strengers who will help me learn, expand.

I am free.
And I will immerse myself in the soulfulness of this world.
Even if it means ignoring precaution.

Aging like a fine wine (if I liked wine)
Narcissistically loving, proudly broken
Daughter of the Pryors, Moe and Vickie, soulmates
Lover of calm breezes on my face
As I run the first of 10 miles on a Sunday morning made for me
Who feels invincible in that moment
And defeated, small, and petty the next
Who fears for her children making their place in a brutal world
Who would like to see America from a motorhome,
or Spain on foot
Resident of the heart,
living in the soulfulness of early ink-black mornings
Stampeding and triumphant

Leaves on the tree turning colors
What a beautiful sight to see
Falling gracefully to the ground
How much more whimsical could it be?
Blissfully creating a color pattern on which the ground we walk
Take a deep breath and take it all in
Filling your body with soulfulness feeling like a child seeing the world for the first time again...

Never seen you in person
Plan to  when you come home to the Big Apple
There is a soulfulness and genuineness surrounding you
It is real beyond words
Not only are you on fire but you glisten and shine
New York City girls know what is real and true
Alicia ,you are an incredible star with a vibe and presence that only a few share beyond compare
You are a fire they have yet to know
Burn gently,brightly,and warm the world


C@rainbowchaser2020

Oh veritably and altruistic beauty,
save me!
I agree that I may lack the
insight to write my sorrows,
but please don’t let the soulfulness
leave the darkening grievousness!

I cry immensely for you.
I will make sure that I will
make my heart utterly softer to
love you and protect you
from the paws of its gnawing sadness.

- a sentimentalist, who never plays on other people’s emotions!

Shivpriya
#shivpoetesspriya

I loved him greatly, more than anything you could ever imagine,
his calming touch on my shimmery skin, bringing me to a standstill
as I gazed at his iridescent glow, a gust of passion in his **** eyes,
his melodious mansion everything I could dream of and more,
an uplifting sensation seeping through my cells, soaking
me all over in his glorious invention.  

Deep beauty running through his existence, rivers of inspiration
and thought stamped on his vivacious thighs and feet, his grand
soulfulness speaking boundless desires and drams inside my heart,
all pure and simply scintillating, a man of great taste
and courageousness, a distinguished man I will always treasure.