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Umi Mar 18
Of ones heart with shadows lurking to take over spite is made precious to be felt exciting while it is in fact trecious, but a sleeping terror awakens at times as well, thus a rampage is made amongst it,
A thrill wandering down your spine when you wrong someone and see them tremble through your actions a cold shiver followed by spite
Choosing a carefree life, yet unable to hide the fact that no spark would be able to illuminate whats in your dark, where angels fear to tread, only to explore this loitering abyss within you for some time,
All this blood **** must bring you to insanity, make you a lunatic,
But let it happen, in this emotionless shell it's what feels majestic,
The storm raging inside, waiting to feed on this caused chaos,
Evil and vile, heartless not carrying a smile while mercilessly continuing this riot of a resented soul waiting, longing for destruction
Feeling alike to be burning up, priceless about this act of cruelty until the wanted realisation drives its way into your soul and you question yourself what you have done, or why you have done it for anyway,
But the time will come again for sure, so be ready for it to arrive
When the sleeping terror awakens for another dance

~ Umi
She held lightning at her
Fingertips, glowing up a page
In her poetry, every time her heart
Sparked the imagination
Inside her skull-
All feedback is appreciated.
jerrey Jul 29
I don’t care how
or care what you do
to make it happen;
I just told you
make me shine
so slather me in turpentine.

I want the sun to shrink
and the world turn dark,
when she rests her eyes—
no longer rise—
upon my fiery spark.

I want the moon to swoon
and raise the tides
when he looks for the sun,
but instead
it’s my beauty that he finds.

I want the stars to bow down
and shower me in gold
when I shine brighter
and reach higher
than the stars of old.

I want storms to make
the world stir
when I walk upon
their earth,
no matter what it’ll take.

I don’t care
if it kills me;
just answer my plea.
I just want, so badly,
to shine,
so slather me in turpentine.
Natalie Jan 2015
You were just a spark.
Your flame not yet ignited.
Then he came into your life.
This boy,
he ignited you.
Your spark now a burning flame.
His smile lit it up with admiration.
His laugh made it flicker with excitement.
And his jokes made it roar with passion.
Soon enough he was your flame,
your spark,
your burn.
He engulfed you with fire,
he was your fire.
Little did you know that one day he would cause your flame to become dim.
He would feed your fire not with love,
but with hate.
And soon he was just a boy again.
And soon you were just a spark again.
Waiting,
waiting to be set on fire once more.
Alan S Bailey Jul 2017
Playing piano, it's like I have a treasure chest,
each time I hit a note it resonates
like unto a sparkling jewel in glittering crest.
If I had a song I could write that could
reveal and unravel, your true feelings expressed,
I would play it for you in these endless depths.
Surrounded by fear, loss and by worry,
You've left me in the endless circling spin,
I'm floating in an empty abyss, no hurry.
But one day when you find me in the dark,
hopefully there is enough light from a fading
chord that will grant you one last spark.

The glistening notes continue to play out forever in
the glittering starlit skies, accompanied by natural
hues, white gold moon, eyes, and darkness in disguise.
aquis Aug 26
you will know
when it’s time (to)
show who you are

no matter where
no matter how

you never know
who you might inspire
what spark
you might ignite

you will never know
if you don’t start

similar skies
seek each other
until they unite

somewhere
somehow

you never know
“Art is coming face to face with yourself.“ Jackson *******
THE SPARK


The Spark that shines deep into the night
Oh, Lord, I hear the cries from my own blood line,
the years of agony, while the one who weeded for me
I cried to make way but didn’t know how.

My Lord, you are the most humbled
you have seen it all, You heard the cries
of my own blood line. I felt the pains,
I felt the shame, while others was giving blame.

The years felt way too long, The cries I heard
came from my older son, Oh, My Dear Lord,
I have given you my heart, I reclined upon your Spirit
asking for your help, But I didn’t understand My Lord
what was my son crying for.

I had cradled him with my own arms,
I prayed for him night and day
Yet, this pain didn’t go away,
I cried my heart out, I walked the town
It was rain so much pains, my tears just rolled on down.

I sung out my spirit to my loving son,
I pray that he felt me with him to easy his pains,
I looked but could never find,
I pray my Lord, My Loving ***,
you listened to both our weepings.

I have showed so much tenderness
I showed my compassion of what a mother feels
when a child is hurt, I tried to reach out
But I got no words,
But soon I got contact and it only gave more pain.

I prayed for understanding,
A spark of a vision seeing abuse,
hearing words of plead
Soon my son was no longer
Because he was hung…

Some say it was suicide,
But it was only a lie
Someone killed my son, and made it look suicide.
I had let my lips rest while I write.


I rest upon your holy love
I speak to thee about everything I see
I kissed the hem Of my Lord
while my tears fall at the feet
Please, hear my cries for justice for my son.

My weeping spirit will not rest
Until you see this through,
I love you My *** Jehovah,
I Love You My Lord Jesus Christ
and to you My own beloved Son,

I put you forever in my heart
I know justice will be served
I know *** Jehovah seen it all
He hear your plead to be set free.

Poetic Judy Emery © 2018
Copyright © Judy Emery| Year Posted 2018
Carl Webb II Aug 1
dressed in all black with a spirit to match.

brilliant scenery trapped
beneath the  surface of obsidian.

a haunted cave, a burning light,
enchanted rock, undying flame,
ignite the chamber, start again.

ignite the chamber, start again.
a spark is all it takes
I heard a story,
A story where a amputee person was trying to reach the peak of Mt. Everest.
Tried in every way but
Mid way was hospitalized.

His friend who was accompanying
Reached the peak
and later came to meet him.
Didn't bring a Garland or fruits
Rather gave him two stones.

He was stunned
And thanked him.
But he said,
I brought it for you
from the peak
It's for you to keep it
back to where it belongs!

A friend, sparking the energy
And after 3-4 attempts,
he did it
Reaching to the peak
And keeping back the two stones
To where it belonged!
Now that's what a friend can do.
We all have our own peaks
Not to surrender but to conquer! This story was narrated by my Boss with whom I was having a long conversation. Inspiration can come from anywhere.
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