"spontaneously" poems
the mind is its own beautiful prisoner.
Mind looked long at the sticky moon
opening in dusk her new wings
then decently hanged himself,one afternoon.
The last thing he saw was you
naked amid unnaked things,
your flesh,a succinct wandlike animal,
a little strolling with the futile purr
of blood;your *** squeaked like a billiard-cue
chalking itself,as not to make an error,
with twists spontaneously methodical.
He suddenly tasted worms windows and roses
he laughed,and closed his eyes as a girl closes
her left hand upon a mirror.
45k
"DEAR BLANK CHALLENGE" PLEASE PLEASE READ THIS AND REPOST TRY TO KEEP IT GOING: HELLOPOETRY "DEAR BLANK" CHALLENGE SECRET SANTA POEMS EXCEPT NOT SECRET AND NOT SANTA RANDOM ACT/POEM OF KINDNESS STRANGER POETRY APPRECIATION
I thought it might be nice to do like a secret santa thingy on hellopoetry only not secret and not santa… what I mean is, find a random stranger you literally have never met and do NOT know at all whose poetry you like and spend actual time genuinely reading their work, picking out your favorite lines and responding to them, pondering them, etc. Write something positive to them and post it as a poem with their name in the title. The “DEAR BLANK” challenge only you put their name instead of “blank”. I think we could all use a little recognition that we exist and are worth something since everyone seems a little depressed on here (including myself) which is fine, it’s a great outlet but it would be nice for people to just spontaneously find that a random stranger spent time in their life just to recognize you and care about your poetry. To write a kind poem/letter to them responding to lines in their poetry. If you need an example I just posted DEAR IMALRIGHT which was exactly what I meant. Check out imalright's poetry btw it is amazing.
I plan on doing for more than one person and I'd love for you to do the same. Spread a little kindness, we could all use a little.
Also message me if you are going to do the challenge and message the stranger you do the DEAR BLANK challenge for so they know to look for and read your poem.
I just thought that Imalright who was a perfect stranger to me seemed like a wonderful poet and a wonderful person based on her poetry so I chose her.
You do that too if you accept the DEAR BLANK challenge.
INCLUDE DEARBLANKCHALLENGE AS A HASHTAG IF YOU DO THE CHALLENGE SO EVERYONE CAN FIND THEM
please repost this over and over so we can get as many people involved as possible and try and make a difference in a couple people's lives because I just want to make everyone feel loved but I'm just one girl, I can't do it alone. Please help me with this and join me in the DEAR BLANK challenge. Take time out of your day to properly appreciate someone's poetry who you do not know.
PLEASE REPOST LET'S GET EVERYONE INVOLVED!!! ;D
THANKS!
-EMBER EVANESCENT
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 1:41 AM UTC
Radness
The Philosopher’s Stone is not just a spiritual metaphor but an actual substance that can transmute lead or mercury into gold. The Stone is a product of Alchemy. Unlike chemistry, which only deals with physical matter and energy, Alchemy makes use of etheric and astral energies to reconfigure matter at the quantum level. Alchemy is to chemistry what a cube is to the square; it is a superset of chemistry and is capable of so much more.
How Etheric Energy Overrides Physical Laws
Alchemical achievements require successfully gathering, concentrating, and multiplying etheric energy. When this energy reaches a critical threshold, it overpowers the normal laws of physics and allows seemingly miraculous processes to take place. I believe it does this by biasing probability. By amplifying the probability of minor quantum effects, which are normally limited to the subatomic scale, they manifest on the larger atomic scale. In this way, one element spontaneously transforms into another.
The world around us is made of subatomic particles that regularly undergo unpredictable jumps, teleportation, bilocation, superposition, and other strange quantum behaviors. Why don’t everyday solid objects do likewise? Because the random quantum jittering of their subatomic particles collectively average out to zero. Think of a large crowd of people; seen from the air, the crowd as a whole is stationary, even though individuals within the crowd move in seemingly random directions. It’s because their movements are random and uncoordinated that they average to zero net movement on the whole.
The world we see around us is merely a crowd of subatomic particles whose individual quantum jumps aren’t apparent because they average to collective stillness. Physical laws that govern our everyday world, known as the deterministic laws of classical physics, are merely the laws of the crowd. These laws are what’s left of quantum physics after the unpredictability is removed through statistical averaging. They are not absolute laws; they are just the most probable manner in which matter and energy behave.
Physical laws can be bent. While the probability is incredibly low that enough coordination and coherence develops among the quantum jitters to manifest on a collective scale, that is exactly what etheric energy does. It alters probability and thereby skews the laws of thermodynamics, gravity, electromagnetism, and chemistry.
Alchemy does not violate the laws of physics, nor does it always follow them, rather it bends them as needed. It operates upon the quantum foundation from which these laws arise in the first place, via etheric energy affecting the probability of quantum events.
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 8:59 PM UTC
What would I do for you? There's lots of things, actually
I would spontaneously start speaking Hungarian for you...but it probably would sound like nonsense
and some Hungarian dude
Would be all like "Haver, nem beszél magyarul"
I would shrug, because
I don't know Hungarian...
But I'd still do it for you, if you wanted me to.
I would fly us to ancient Mayan burial grounds, where we could
Learn all about a lost culture
We would run into a cursed
Mayan Chief, but he'd actually be pretty cool
He would teach us how to do a rain dance,
Every once in awhile he'd look at you and say "kíichpan"
and I'd be like..."Dude, back off..."
He's like 2000 years old...
He's way too old for you.
I would carve you an Ice Sculpture in your likeness
Taking care to make sure that every detail was perfect and reflected
Your beauty
In every possible way.
I'm not too good at Ice Sculpting, though, so it might just end up looking
Like an oddly-shaped block of ice.
Sorry...
I hope you would like it anyway
For you, I would count to infinity
Which might not sound like a feat, at first
But then I would count back to zero
I'm pretty sure no one's done that before....
I won't be able to do it all in one day
So it might take awhile...
Hope you don't mind waiting for me
I would write poetry every day for you
Because I know that I would never run out of things
To write about
....Well, maybe every 'other' day.
Jan 2, 2012
Jan 2, 2012 at 2:55 PM UTC
you're a melancholic blue rock
who's oblivious to what you're parallel of
just a slight erosion I noticed,
as I picked up
the little crumbles
the gem stones
the tears
crystallizing under crushing pressure;
I know it's aching,
some time to tether
you're (spontaneously) combusting
but you're still as dainty as a feather
don't have to look at your reflection,
just your shadows
then you'll see you're illuminating
and now you know
you're more than enough
you were just
a diamond in the rough.
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 10:14 PM UTC
Right to education,
Is a right to live,
Without education we spontaneously get,
A right to die,
Not physically but morally,
Illiteracy is our moral death,
For being illiterate we can't even talk life,
Education is a soul rests
In the body of human being,
So without education,
We are only human animals,
Education takes us to height of humanity.
BY: Sandhya Nirvana Indarjeet(me)
Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 5:53 PM UTC
Spark Me
Match my flame
Be warned after we burn up I will remain
Scars tell stories unique the stain
Suffer in pleasure transforming pain
Create a new definition of touch
All fantasies we can discuss
Tickle imagination till you gush
Bell goes ding..Square off in ring
Emotional swing soar without wings
Sparked there's no limit to what I bring
Heart exploding in my chest
Intellect feel it stretch
Transcend beyond flesh
Endless battle to the next
Please Spark me!
Beware of Ego's fire
Lips..Toungue
Turn it up higher
Sparked
We become all desired..
Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 6:50 PM UTC
Your taste runs like kerosene in my veins,
Our kisses, heated, sending my insides aflame;
I spontaneously combust, lover.
Skin to skin, your mouth is concentrated sin
You make lose my morals, the lust is building;
Blinding, my pupils burn;
Yours darken with something primal, tensions thickening;
The anticipation's sinking
right into my gut, I feel your touch
calloused fingertips dancing up my thighs, teasing.
Your body glistening
with sweat, trailing down south
I follow the track hungrily with my mouth
but it doesn't seem enough.
Our hearts beat fast like the ticking
of a timebomb nearing detonation;
We're going to detonate, my love.
We're going to burst in fancy colors like fireworks gone haywire,
the bed is our sky.
We're going to get lost among the sheets,
like sailing across familiar seas.
The moonlight, dangerously bright
they seem to shine from your eyes
but they darken with something like clouds on a stormy night.
And I'm not sure if there really is a God
but tonight I kept calling his name
yours interspersed in between
heavy breathing, our pants sounding
like broken notes of some orchestrated masterpiece
and the crescendo's nearing.
Our pulse following the rising melody
I am mesmerized, out of control
I am lost amidst the euphoria
right now
with you
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 12:05 AM UTC
I've been searching these deserts
I've been rummaging through my closet
I've been eating more than usual
I've been spontaneously bursting into laughter
I've been attentive
I've been regularly missing taking my anti-depressants
I've been crying hard all at once (expectedly)
I've been very extremely me
This is okay - this is okay
Thank you life
I'm okay.
I'm at this airport and it's like a chorus
The people go up the ramps
Fly away for 3 days like Horus
The returner's come home now
Waiting families embrace them with love
Jumbo jets zoom outside these giant windows
Visitors, excitedly saunter
Into this new and open place...
And this is okay
Thank you, thank you airport
I'm okay.
Jul 13, 2012
Jul 13, 2012 at 10:36 PM UTC
The Standard Model is full of sticky, quirky Quarks,
perky little Fermions, and the Boson Higgs,
the reigning King of Mass of towering might;
who, by spontaneously falling off in any old direction,
gives ad hoc Masses to nearly all, and to all a birthright.
And for all normal matter in creation,
the Boson Higgs is the physicist's salvation.
Alas, we could have learned more,
but a Weasel ate through the Collider core.
May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 4:33 PM UTC
If not now, then after sometime
If not in the present, then somewhere along in the future
Things will change
Something good will happen
Something better might follow
Don't give up
Keep on going.
Success was never achieved instantaneously
Success never came spontaneously
Success came when hardwork was done, efforts were made.
Don't give up, keep on going
Definitely something good will happen,
something better might follow
Till then it’s all watch and wait
Always remember, keep it in mind
A bird in hand is better than two in the bush.
Have belief and faith in what you are doing
Believe in yourself
Never give up, just because you are facing an odd
A time will come when everything will fall in it’s place
A time will come when you will achieve your aim
Till that point in time, don’t give up, keep on going.
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 7:36 AM UTC
Three summers ago
I loved a boy
who's hair when moved
by wind or hand
was always magical,
who possessed tanned skin
and eyes so blue
they were waters to drown in.
Around him I felt enchanted
and he was enthralling.
He captivated me,
turned me into a slave of my emotions,
with words and promises
I knew he couldn't make come true.
"Run," my friends urged me, "as fast as you can."
But without him life was jaded,
their warning
had been voiced too late.
Already I had pricked my finger,
on a spinning wheel
and fallen head over heels
in that chemically induced slumber
we sometimes call love.
He opened a door for me that led straight
into a world filled with
bushes of roses
and buckets of sunshine,
I promptly forgot that too much sunshine
scalds the skin
and turns it a burning, vivid red,
almost as vivid
as the crimson blood
a touch from the thorns of roses draws.
I knew I had been warned so I stayed there
bleeding and burning,
swearing to myself as I suffered
that I would never again
give my heart to someone
who would not give me theirs in return.
This summer, three years later,
being around you
means feeling like being able to combust spontaneously
and I cannot forget
the sensation of my skin in contact with yours.
It made me realise
that though I have always loved you,
I started loving you a little bit too much.
You are my every thought.
They say you never make the same mistake twice,
that it is your own stupid fault the second time around.
But if it really was a choice
why then is it
that I spend all my nights these days
pleading with the universe
to let me unlove you.
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 4:55 PM UTC
A cool and close mist
Hangs over the highland shrubs and trees
Wild and tall grasses bend heavy
Laden with the chill dew
of a perpetually hidden dawn
10 lifetimes of experiences
Have I gathered since I entered here
I feel it was but a few hours ago
Though I have not seen the sun
Nor has the darkness of night
Yet begun to creep into these woods
Maybe from a dream or perhaps
I passed it earlier this strange house
A ***** place with slanted roof and chimney
Sticking out of the earth in such a way
That it appeared to be a natural growth
I feel as though it is so very familiar
Though I cannot say why
Or why no matter the direction I turn
Or for how long I walk
I come unto its doorstep again and again
In my mind it has replaced my own home
If ever I did have another
And whoever might have been waiting there
I have long since forgotten
Yet when I reach this house
Time and time again
I cannot muster the courage to reach out
To take hold of the handle and turn it
To enter in to that abode
And here I come again
I see it emerge out of the gentle fog
Comfortably nestled on a hillside
I stand for a moment at the gate
The walk through it and up the long path
Interspersed with a step or two here and there
As it turned inwards and outwards
Ascending the hill into the home’s entrance
In a moment I stood at the door yet again
Hand half outstretched towards the ****
I placed my hand upon it
Feeling the cool of brass
Yet the warmth of something else
Something half remembered from youth
From years long since entwined with dreams
I turned the **** gently
Not yet feeling the click of the lock
I felt a fresh wind at my back
And I rather spontaneously
Wrenched my hand and wrist
All the way to the right
I could feel the weight of the door
Unhindered by any lock or stop
And I pushed it open
That mighty wooden thing
And was greeted by a deepening night
Full of countless radiant stars.
Oct 18, 2023
Oct 18, 2023 at 4:09 PM UTC
/
When you are growing as a poet
your pain is pining to born a poetry
where there are too many clouds of emotions gathering,
also a pensive mood longing
then the thunder of thoughts growing,
your paper is awaiting for the first word
as I was waiting for you, my love
when you were coming slowly
then words of rain raining,
automatically,
randomly
When the first raindrop pings on the pond
even you don't know when it will be stopped
how far it will be covered
which path it will be taken
even its density,
dignity,
or the diversity
Your first word inks on the paper
you don’t know when it will be finished
which way the words will be taken
even you don't know
its size or style,
its fashion or the scheme
Either it's a long or a short
or even a sonnet or a verse
even its rhyming
or the rhythm
You should not think about its length
of course words grow as long as
the metaphors can travel
through its thoughts of cohesion
and its feelings moving
naturally,
poetically
You should not count the words
or even you can't stop within a limit
it makes your thoughts imperfect
rather you can tell totally
about the life,
or can tell about
the love easily
or beyond the life spontaneously
The words can grow 3,5,7
lines for a haiku
or even it goes for a mile for an epitaph
or more for an epic
Poetry executes through words
words come from thoughts
thoughts come from the emotions
and ends with the wisdom
/
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 6:11 PM UTC
Where the wind ruffles my hair
The rain kisses my lips
The sunrays embraces to keep me warm
And the serenity makes me break into a song
Or just a simple humming and wiggling
Where I can lie on the grass to catch my breath
And for hours watch the birds fly
And watch the kids play
Where the innocence once more beats in me
That I run up to them just to taste the shear joy in playing
Where I can spontaneously plunge into a river and then decide Whether to drink it's purity or drown in it's abyssal depth
Or just watch my reflection on its glistening surface
And drift off to distant thoughts with the shepherd's kulning
Where the farthest stars lead me to my deepest emotions
Where the silence of the dark night awakens my soul
There I'll make my bed
On the grass under the sky
And not sleep a wink
For I'll be already living in my sweetest dream
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 3:00 PM UTC
Hello
this is a short message
written this Sunday morning
on March the first
the rain keeps coming from the west
non-stop for two days
risk of flooding
government says.
I miss you - had another dream
driving in sunshine.
It's the sun I miss
mostly - and then of course
there is your friendship
to treasure and to hold.
I hope you're having fun
on your quad.
They say four wheels
are better than two
I'm not so sure
how could you
have Zen and the art of
quad biking -
impossible?
I see you have given in
to peer pressure or whatever
and made your modest entry
in the ******** book
I had a quick look.
It looks
OK.
Now I suppose Twitter
and MySpace
where you can compose
even wittier
sayings.
You're a true master
of Wisdom
with a capital W
But it is not that
you struggle to say something
wise
it comes spontaneously
best when blurted out
immediate response
like:
"they throw babies in dumpsters
in your country too, Janet?"
She'd never forgotten it
as it
was such a strange and powerful thing to say
by the way
I googled your name
and you have loads of coverage
mostly under AHEC and Best.
This is just a few short lines
to say you are on my mind
and in my heart
as always
yours
me.
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 11:03 AM UTC
Revving up the engine
of the gleaming funky machine
before zooming around, gave her
such an Adrenalin high, nonperil.
The constant ****** no guy ever could
promise, this act gives her.
She is pleased for that moment,
gets ready for the ****** rigmarole,
the very next second.
She gets jealous of her
own story, ever heard of that?
On the race course and the spread bed
alike her ebullience creates
tsunami waves,broke long standing records.
When you run fast enough
there comes a moment,when
there is no record left to break!
and the beds, you guessed right,
all are broken, made redundant.
And then the inevitable happens,
she smells leaking gas, panics,
freezes on the track, shuddering,
switches off quickly the engine
of her dream machine,her heartbeat,
makes the final escape,spontaneously,
without delay, decides to renounce
worldly pleasures altogether,
up to the Himalayas goes by foot, seeking
that thing which in life she missed all along,
Finds silver light's play on ice caps, and realize this:
she was walking through a dark, dark tunnel ,
of self-deception,"Affluenza" was indeed her affliction.
The Himalayan snow cap, loomed large as an attraction,
in her dreams once, now seemed less formidable, at arm's length,
"What a Guru,who looked timelessly ancient,
jokingly predicted once, comes true here"she muses.
Her trek upwards resumes with a vengeance.
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 6:08 AM UTC
If I were a solivagant star in space,
I'd link arms with the universe
and have her tell me that
all this pain was worth it,
that something golden would
blossom from it,
maybe then I'd be more focused
on planting seeds instead of
always drowning in the weeds
of my blackened psyche.
I'd burn, explode,
spontaneously combust,
and no one would tell me
that to confirm was all I
had to aspire to,
no one would be around
to make me feel like
too much of a burden,
as if I feel too much too quickly,
too warm, too much, too fiercely.
If I were truly solivagant,
I'd have no reason to cry
when asked "How are you?"
I would not avoid the
ever familiar question
"How was your day?"
Wanderlust would consume me
and I'd search for hidden gold,
space would not cheat me,
would not let me crumble and fold.
My tears would be of use,
they'd fall on clouds as messengers
to rain upon the seeds on earth,
to give life to the breathing dead.
I think I'd love to be
a solivagant star in space,
no magic tricks would be needed,
no quizzes to tell me
that I belong in this place.
Oct 5, 2016
Oct 5, 2016 at 11:09 AM UTC
The woodland trees, bathed in the glory of the crimson sun,
Adorn the rugged path that droops into the valley
The autumnal wind caresses the falling leaves,
twirling them towards their destiny
The musky fragrance,
Of the dewy forest floor,
Shall soon ****** my senses
And I shall yearn for more/
I drift through the mass of naked shrubbery
They have shed most of their modesty
Not a soul in sight - though a thousand such
Reside within the woody giants
Perhaps I am too, I reside within myself..
The grey, stony trail leads me into the heart
Of this creature;
This vast expanse of golden, brown and green.
Where light does not dare intrude..
I have never seen so much malice, in such serenity..
I submit to my will, and venture into the unknown/unseen
The sorrow of winter embraces me,
Spontaneously.
The ghosts of my past lurk in the undergrowth
Waiting to strike at moment's will..
Jun 17, 2012
Jun 17, 2012 at 7:32 AM UTC
From nothing but
Cerebral constructs
Mind becoming
Matter
Spontaneously
Combusts.
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 10:43 PM UTC
Yours Truly
Loving You Avenue
Kissime, Missmeana
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Dear Love of my Life,
You do not know me yet but, I am the love of your life and you are mine. Try not to over look me if we ever meet. Pick me out the crowd of beautiful women you see from where ever we meet, whether it be in public, private, or through a computer screen. Oh yea, and try your best to judge me by my personality. Look past the color of my skin for it may interfere with your better judgement of me. For all you know I could be white, purple, or mahogany. Once, we are together theres somethings you should remember. One is that I won’t completely hate you if you forget our anniversary. I’ll only pretend to so we can feel like a sitcom family. Second, my favorite flower is the lotus but I’ll settle for roses as long as they are never red, I prefer white or black instead.Third, don’t be what you think I expect you to be because I really love spontaneity. So don’t be surprised if for vacation I’d like to go skydiving, bungee jumping, or skiing. By the way I have of list of things I’d like to do before I died and those activities are numbers one, two, and three. Promise to never lie to me unless you are trying to protect me. Yes, I know honesty's the best policy but a little white lie never hurt anybody. I hate to be told what to do unless of course it is by you. So I guess I’ll be fair and not give you too many rules. This last one is a request of you for me, Spontaneously tell me you love me.
Sincerely yours,
The Love of your Life
Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 3:48 PM UTC
Thoughts and beliefs bubbling in my head
Yet when the nozzle opens
The water remains stagnant
The chute blocked by a language barrier
An English lad and a French Claire
Both hearts galloped in stampede
The two magnets draw in spontaneously
But does love exist from the front cover alone?
The vast terra firma
Perforated in years time
Earth plates sever the one masterpiece into pieces
The scraps bounded by a shimmering blue frame
Engineering, Psychology, and Humanities
All in uniform language
But still segregated
Even with a paint degree
Does the artist know what note the musician is playing?
A gallant soldier
Survived the war of “learn how to speak German”
Two languages under the belt, but 6,498 to go
Illustrious pride stifled into humility
Will there ever be a language compromise?
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 11:33 PM UTC
I love
Our love
In a way
I don't love
Anything
It makes my
Toes wiggle
When you
Spontaneously kiss me
It makes my
Ovaries flutter
When you
Hold my waist
It makes my
Cheeks blush
When you
Nibble my ear
It makes my
Eyelashes bat
When you
Say you love me
It makes my
Palms pulse
When you
Peck my fingers
It makes my
Body weak
When you
Say I'm yours
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 3:17 AM UTC
i wonder
if it’s like de ja vú
listening to the same ****** music
in the same ****** car
on the same ****** road
i wonder
if you glance over while going 60 in a 25
and wish you’d spontaneously combust
when the person beside you
isn’t me
because i do every night
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 9:28 AM UTC