Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Words
"stag" poems
Lovers entered a forbidden forest bower, And as they stalked that range, with eyes glazed, She offered up her hind. Now, with doe eyes, Deep as his, deep in arousal's sleep, heels fell,  As he knocked and pulled her dark honey hair  And whispered, surrender, into wanting ears,  Softly he drove his hunting command, homing  To his huntress. Her body braced, yet bade, with heat and vibrance. Ruthlessly, he ****** his arrow deeper and then  Once more and then again.  She bucked fiercely  And defiant, goading his prodding lance ever more Ever longer, and parting the pink lines of her white Rose, he was, and once again, Prince to the dark Dominion of her quarters. In the middle of this carnal match they paused. And looking into the forest beyond they saw A yearling fawn, a feral Goddess, grazing still,  Bathing in a vale, virginal, wholly unmoved  By their act of venery, lustfully playing, in the innocent  Leaves.  It was as if they were among her kin, a gentle  Doe and a noble stag. From that moment on  The human hunters did not speak. Falling, again, rolling eyes were deep in arousal's sleep. Her back was a crescent moon pocked and wet with dew. He could feel her heart beating in time with his piercing  Prong, her arching back glistened in the suns spittle As it broke through the dark and vernal ceiling wood. In the final shot her quivering buck lowered and broke And a sound not heard, made a scene, a sweet murmuring Shuddered and sank onto the floor of the forest leaves  With her tale, taken and told, her breathless breath,  Her nostrils cold and her heated and lanced openings  Dripping, draining; here was a New World’s beginning. Sated, solemn and softly quaking, his woman sweetly laid, And now, doomed with her doe eyes, two lovers, fated, made; She glowed, divine, like the rolling brook that mellowed Slow, in the vine-dark and golden forest stable, In Artemis’s wood.
0
Jun 15, 2012
Jun 15, 2012 at 1:33 PM UTC
ormond
In Artemis’s Wood
Lovers entered a forbidden forest bower, And as they stalked that range, with eyes glazed, She offered up her hind. Now, with doe eyes, Deep as his, deep in arousal's sleep, heels fell,  As he knocked and pulled her dark honey hair  And whispered, surrender, into wanting ears,  Softly he drove his hunting command, homing  To his huntress. Her body braced, yet bade, with heat and vibrance. Ruthlessly, he ****** his arrow deeper and then  Once more and then again.  She bucked fiercely  And defiant, goading his prodding lance ever more Ever longer, and parting the pink lines of her white Rose, he was, and once again, Prince to the dark Dominion of her quarters. In the middle of this carnal match they paused. And looking into the forest beyond they saw A yearling fawn, a feral Goddess, grazing still,  Bathing in a vale, virginal, wholly unmoved  By their act of venery, lustfully playing, in the innocent  Leaves.  It was as if they were among her kin, a gentle  Doe and a noble stag. From that moment on  The human hunters did not speak. Falling, again, rolling eyes were deep in arousal's sleep. Her back was a crescent moon pocked and wet with dew. He could feel her heart beating in time with his piercing  Prong, her arching back glistened in the suns spittle As it broke through the dark and vernal ceiling wood. In the final shot her quivering buck lowered and broke And a sound not heard, made a scene, a sweet murmuring Shuddered and sank onto the floor of the forest leaves  With her tale, taken and told, her breathless breath,  Her nostrils cold and her heated and lanced openings  Dripping, draining; here was a New World’s beginning. Sated, solemn and softly quaking, his woman sweetly laid, And now, doomed with her doe eyes, two lovers, fated, made; She glowed, divine, like the rolling brook that mellowed Slow, in the vine-dark and golden forest stable, In Artemis’s wood.
Continue reading...
39
You don't see me in the night, My ears pricked for every sound I hear In the dark, like a stag poised for flight, And my conscience seeing surgery, Each sound a cut to my ear. Guarding your thoughts with my warmth, Enclosing you with my poised embrace In the dark, barely breathing by your ear, And waiting for night to end Its careless gentle march Before your breath must cease. Staying up til morning to see you safe, Knowing you won't see me standing over you In the dark, fighting the sickness with my eye, And hand gently stroking your hair Until our fragile bodies fade And your wishful dreams hold true.
0
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 9:17 PM UTC
mv-blake
Resilience III
You don't see me in the night, My ears pricked for every sound I hear In the dark, like a stag poised for flight, And my conscience seeing surgery, Each sound a cut to my ear. Guarding your thoughts with my warmth, Enclosing you with my poised embrace In the dark, barely breathing by your ear, And waiting for night to end Its careless gentle march Before your breath must cease. Staying up til morning to see you safe, Knowing you won't see me standing over you In the dark, fighting the sickness with my eye, And hand gently stroking your hair Until our fragile bodies fade And your wishful dreams hold true.
Continue reading...
17
My little deer Is that you peeking between the trees peering at the stag but your heart's still not at ease ... time ago a short time a stray cupid's arrow shot the night air splitting your spirit in two frightened you took off from the foreboding hiding in a lea there was sun and cloudless skies but not really as your insides raged in a storm in a hourglass with sand pebbles fighting to heal for the best now as you peer between the trees of salvation do you hear birds singing near a brook ... songs sung so beautiful in concerto with the chipmunks, ***** crickets then, as you take that step forward so lion hearted peering between those branches of redemption my little deer are there rays of sunshine peeking back LR-4/23/17
0
Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 11:46 AM UTC
logan-robertson
My Little Deer
My little deer Is that you peeking between the trees peering at the stag but your heart's still not at ease ... time ago a short time a stray cupid's arrow shot the night air splitting your spirit in two frightened you took off from the foreboding hiding in a lea there was sun and cloudless skies but not really as your insides raged in a storm in a hourglass with sand pebbles fighting to heal for the best now as you peer between the trees of salvation do you hear birds singing near a brook ... songs sung so beautiful in concerto with the chipmunks, ***** crickets then, as you take that step forward so lion hearted peering between those branches of redemption my little deer are there rays of sunshine peeking back LR-4/23/17
Continue reading...
45
this is how it happens it's the last day the temperature will be above thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit until February you're not looking at the date it's just the end of November the middle of the night in the middle of a road at the end of November the hum of this small town hurts your ears you're stuck in a dream where everything you see turns into a weapon this is how it happens you knocked back sharp, amber liquid to make this place feel a little more okay and it only worked halfway no matter how soft the edges are you bruise your hips when you run into them in the dark you're ******* on your fourth cigarette when a police officer pulls over and asks how you're doing today in the too-bright white of the headlights the sick taste of Red Stag sticks to the roof of your mouth the mouth that you're moving into a smile the mouth exhaling plumes of smoke at the ground you're okay "i'm okay." you don't tell him what you're really doing you're really taking all of your thoughts about stopping your pulse for a walk you don't tell him you've been chasing ambulances all night long please, officer don't leave me alone, you don't say he tells you to have a good night and drives away and this is how it happens the moon smiles at you with every single one of its tiny, sharp teeth nobody but your cat finds you in that bathtub nobody but your cat watches you rise from red water watches it drip drip drip from every chasm carved in your left arm nobody but your cat saw the soft animal of your soul shiver from the cold that day it's the first day the temperature dropped below thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit inside your chest
0
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 9:48 AM UTC
h0spice
i tried to **** someone once
this is how it happens it's the last day the temperature will be above thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit until February you're not looking at the date it's just the end of November the middle of the night in the middle of a road at the end of November the hum of this small town hurts your ears you're stuck in a dream where everything you see turns into a weapon this is how it happens you knocked back sharp, amber liquid to make this place feel a little more okay and it only worked halfway no matter how soft the edges are you bruise your hips when you run into them in the dark you're ******* on your fourth cigarette when a police officer pulls over and asks how you're doing today in the too-bright white of the headlights the sick taste of Red Stag sticks to the roof of your mouth the mouth that you're moving into a smile the mouth exhaling plumes of smoke at the ground you're okay "i'm okay." you don't tell him what you're really doing you're really taking all of your thoughts about stopping your pulse for a walk you don't tell him you've been chasing ambulances all night long please, officer don't leave me alone, you don't say he tells you to have a good night and drives away and this is how it happens the moon smiles at you with every single one of its tiny, sharp teeth nobody but your cat finds you in that bathtub nobody but your cat watches you rise from red water watches it drip drip drip from every chasm carved in your left arm nobody but your cat saw the soft animal of your soul shiver from the cold that day it's the first day the temperature dropped below thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit inside your chest
Continue reading...
47
It's around prom time so I thought I'd share my prom night experience. Getting a date failed I had for possiblities who ever said yes would've been my date. I went stag hung out with my best friend and his date On the way to the prom we got lost so we missed majority of it. The prom was at some mansion after prom we stayed at a hotel. I drank a few and passed out. Now the story has a twist the date my friend had didnt workout but ended up having another night with his dates friend. She had to drop off her date do that's how these two ended up hooking up. I hung with this girl who didn't have a date she out drank me and passed out. The next morning was awkward my best friend and the new hook up were busy so I had to wait to go home. I went home all of shame hung o er and no action but I was in HS I didn't expect much
0
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 7:23 PM UTC
infamous-one
Prom
It's around prom time so I thought I'd share my prom night experience. Getting a date failed I had for possiblities who ever said yes would've been my date. I went stag hung out with my best friend and his date On the way to the prom we got lost so we missed majority of it. The prom was at some mansion after prom we stayed at a hotel. I drank a few and passed out. Now the story has a twist the date my friend had didnt workout but ended up having another night with his dates friend. She had to drop off her date do that's how these two ended up hooking up. I hung with this girl who didn't have a date she out drank me and passed out. The next morning was awkward my best friend and the new hook up were busy so I had to wait to go home. I went home all of shame hung o er and no action but I was in HS I didn't expect much
Continue reading...
5
738 You said that I “was Great”—one Day— Then “Great” it be—if that please Thee— Or Small—or any size at all— Nay—I’m the size suit Thee— Tall—like the Stag—would that? Or lower—like the Wren— Or other heights of Other Ones I’ve seen? Tell which—it’s dull to guess— And I must be Rhinoceros Or Mouse— At once—for Thee— So say—if Queen it be— Or Page—please Thee— I’m that—or nought— Or other thing—if other thing there be— With just this Stipulus— I suit Thee—
0
7.5k
Emily Dickinson
You said that I “was Great”—one Day
738 You said that I “was Great”—one Day— Then “Great” it be—if that please Thee— Or Small—or any size at all— Nay—I’m the size suit Thee— Tall—like the Stag—would that? Or lower—like the Wren— Or other heights of Other Ones I’ve seen? Tell which—it’s dull to guess— And I must be Rhinoceros Or Mouse— At once—for Thee— So say—if Queen it be— Or Page—please Thee— I’m that—or nought— Or other thing—if other thing there be— With just this Stipulus— I suit Thee—
Continue reading...
19
Underneath the leaves of life, Green on the prodigious tree, In a trance of grief Stand the fallen man and wife: Far away the single stag Banished to a lonely crag Gazes placid out to sea, And from thickets round about Breeding animals look in On Duality, And the birds fly in and out Of the world of man. Down in order from the ridge, Bayonets glittering in the sun, Soldiers who will judge Wind towards the little bridge: Even politicians speak Truths of value to the weak, Necessary acts are done By the ill and the unjust; But the Judgment and the Smile, Though these two-in-one See creation as they must, None shall reconcile. Bordering our middle earth Kingdoms of the Short and Tall, Rivals for our faith, Stir up envy from our birth: So the giant who storms the sky In an angry wish to die Wakes the hero in us all, While the tiny with their power To divide and hide and flee, When our fortunes fall Tempt to a belief in our Immortality. Lovers running each to each Feel such timid dreams catch fire Blazing as they touch, Learn what love alone can teach: Happy on a tousled bed Praise Blake's acumen who said: "One thing only we require Of each other; we must see In another's lineaments Gratified desire"; This is our humanity; Nothing else contents. Nowhere else could I have known Than, beloved, in your eyes What we have to learn, That we love ourselves alone: All our terrors burned away We can learn at last to say: "All our knowledge comes to this, That existence is enough, That in savage solitude Or the play of love Every living creature is Woman, Man, and Child."
0
5.9k
W. H. Auden
The Riddle
Underneath the leaves of life, Green on the prodigious tree, In a trance of grief Stand the fallen man and wife: Far away the single stag Banished to a lonely crag Gazes placid out to sea, And from thickets round about Breeding animals look in On Duality, And the birds fly in and out Of the world of man. Down in order from the ridge, Bayonets glittering in the sun, Soldiers who will judge Wind towards the little bridge: Even politicians speak Truths of value to the weak, Necessary acts are done By the ill and the unjust; But the Judgment and the Smile, Though these two-in-one See creation as they must, None shall reconcile. Bordering our middle earth Kingdoms of the Short and Tall, Rivals for our faith, Stir up envy from our birth: So the giant who storms the sky In an angry wish to die Wakes the hero in us all, While the tiny with their power To divide and hide and flee, When our fortunes fall Tempt to a belief in our Immortality. Lovers running each to each Feel such timid dreams catch fire Blazing as they touch, Learn what love alone can teach: Happy on a tousled bed Praise Blake's acumen who said: "One thing only we require Of each other; we must see In another's lineaments Gratified desire"; This is our humanity; Nothing else contents. Nowhere else could I have known Than, beloved, in your eyes What we have to learn, That we love ourselves alone: All our terrors burned away We can learn at last to say: "All our knowledge comes to this, That existence is enough, That in savage solitude Or the play of love Every living creature is Woman, Man, and Child."
Continue reading...
60
... and this one isn't. They were going to start a new life, childhood sweethearts become man and wife. But a drunken stag-night ended up in a fight, and someone had taken a knife.
0
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 10:56 AM UTC
paul-hansford
Limericks don't have to be silly ... *
... and this one isn't. They were going to start a new life, childhood sweethearts become man and wife. But a drunken stag-night ended up in a fight, and someone had taken a knife.
Continue reading...
6
Allies become foes and friends turn away Loyalties are questioned, only the honorable stay And so begins the fight, to claim the right of power While a child claims the crown, sitting atop his lofty tower The Stag is said to rule the seven, but all is not what it may seem The Lion fights the Wolf, while the Dragons ready their queen The kingdom will bathe in blood, and it is under the light of the moon That alliances are broken, or saved from the brink of ruin “For the night is dark, and full of terrors” These new gods shake faith in the old with tremors Winter is coming, it can be felt in the bones But before it reaches, who will win this Game of Thrones?
0
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 8:47 PM UTC
tiffany-n-smith
This Game Of Thrones
Allies become foes and friends turn away Loyalties are questioned, only the honorable stay And so begins the fight, to claim the right of power While a child claims the crown, sitting atop his lofty tower The Stag is said to rule the seven, but all is not what it may seem The Lion fights the Wolf, while the Dragons ready their queen The kingdom will bathe in blood, and it is under the light of the moon That alliances are broken, or saved from the brink of ruin “For the night is dark, and full of terrors” These new gods shake faith in the old with tremors Winter is coming, it can be felt in the bones But before it reaches, who will win this Game of Thrones?
Continue reading...
12
I feel your love, Yet your marksmanship is poor, For towards me your love aims not. Your intentions aimed elsewhere. A past lover. And I am not he. Malicious Misery pushed you too far. Too far this time. Your life is precious to me, Yet a treasure you seek not. It dwindles within these machines, Like a strand of seaweed. Being crashed upon by the waves, Of this poison you endowed yourself with. Much a tragedy this is. Yet not that of Shakespeare. No, this much too real, To take a form of fictitious imaginings. This, much more complicated, Than a Shakespearean masterpiece. For if so, Your love would be aimed at I. But it is not, And in resent, I mourn this tragedy. Yet, I must let love, Travel upon its everso hellbound path. My eyes lie upon thee, And my heart within the feeble hand of yours. Yet your mind lies elsewhere, And your desires lie with your mind. Upon he. The one currently at your arms reach. The one at your desires demand. The one you truly love. I must not resent this, For love hath struck thee as it struck I. And Cupid's arrow hath stuck he as well. I can see it in his sorrowful stare. He loves you in a way that I cannot. A consentful love. For I am just a scapegoat. Temporary. Well now you've quenched your desire. You've acquired what you sought. Love of he. (And I, for whatever its worth.) His love is a precious gold, And mine a mere coal. Black, unwanted. Only able to provide temporary warmth. Pardon me for obstructing. Love hath stolen my precious vision, And wandered, I, Into the meadow in which you hunt. As a poor marksman, Thou cast thine arrow of love upon me, And realized I am but a scapegoat, When the white stag is what you seek. Once before, you lined him in your sights. But evasive is this mystical creature. And once, he escap'd. If your life so solidifies, I shall replinish my vision, Banish my love, And obstruct thee no more. Instead, I must prosper in silence and patience. Shun my hearts desires, And let thee hunt. I apologize for my inconvenience. I shall groom each of your horses, So that you may ride into, The meadow of love together. Hence, beware of hunters, And wandering creatures. Teach thine unsteady hand, And this time... Don't miss.
0
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 4:19 AM UTC
canaan-massie
Scapegoat of Coal
I feel your love, Yet your marksmanship is poor, For towards me your love aims not. Your intentions aimed elsewhere. A past lover. And I am not he. Malicious Misery pushed you too far. Too far this time. Your life is precious to me, Yet a treasure you seek not. It dwindles within these machines, Like a strand of seaweed. Being crashed upon by the waves, Of this poison you endowed yourself with. Much a tragedy this is. Yet not that of Shakespeare. No, this much too real, To take a form of fictitious imaginings. This, much more complicated, Than a Shakespearean masterpiece. For if so, Your love would be aimed at I. But it is not, And in resent, I mourn this tragedy. Yet, I must let love, Travel upon its everso hellbound path. My eyes lie upon thee, And my heart within the feeble hand of yours. Yet your mind lies elsewhere, And your desires lie with your mind. Upon he. The one currently at your arms reach. The one at your desires demand. The one you truly love. I must not resent this, For love hath struck thee as it struck I. And Cupid's arrow hath stuck he as well. I can see it in his sorrowful stare. He loves you in a way that I cannot. A consentful love. For I am just a scapegoat. Temporary. Well now you've quenched your desire. You've acquired what you sought. Love of he. (And I, for whatever its worth.) His love is a precious gold, And mine a mere coal. Black, unwanted. Only able to provide temporary warmth. Pardon me for obstructing. Love hath stolen my precious vision, And wandered, I, Into the meadow in which you hunt. As a poor marksman, Thou cast thine arrow of love upon me, And realized I am but a scapegoat, When the white stag is what you seek. Once before, you lined him in your sights. But evasive is this mystical creature. And once, he escap'd. If your life so solidifies, I shall replinish my vision, Banish my love, And obstruct thee no more. Instead, I must prosper in silence and patience. Shun my hearts desires, And let thee hunt. I apologize for my inconvenience. I shall groom each of your horses, So that you may ride into, The meadow of love together. Hence, beware of hunters, And wandering creatures. Teach thine unsteady hand, And this time... Don't miss.
Continue reading...
79
Toking on a cloud with ******* Jesus and his family Lame folks ask me how, its cause I ******* smoke religiously No God I smoke religious tree, I get ****** in the name of heresy You angry penguin ****** preach acceptance So praise the Lord and ******* shame on me My guise is Satan ***** and my swag is undisguisible heartless and no conscience, sicksicksix most recognizable -that statement may surprise a little but since we all surmise a little Why deny me as the devil when When I clearly play a golden fiddle. . . From Hell I made a deal and there is no repeal nothing you see is real, I will invade and pervade your mind So wait in anticipation, life's a figment of your own imagination I'll watch you dissipate into oblivion Pound for pound, I'm a cenobite at heart, I just haven't a heart to be found It's not hard for me its profound, the sound of suffering your soul is ours now and I will tear it apart Here's a toast to our orchestral Symphony of the flesh My swag's so ******* flawless 100 carrot diamonds, ******* love me cause I'm gorgeous can't stag no more, fat stacks galore embrace the force it opens doors Is there a source, but of course - it just lies dormant/ What's a ***** to a floor except a doormat And you know that I'm no diplomat It's just a fact I ******* hate those stinky ratchets And I sharply lack tact tell that ***** her ***** smells like Magikarp Body language, that of Snorlax someone once asked why don't have an open mind brains would spill out if my ******* snapback weren't so tight Its the season to seize C's and hallucinations be dazzlin em don't believe your eyes son, its only a phantasm but Words are like playdough, fun to play with not to eat So clap your ******* trap and get lost to the beat I can't be defeat So suckle my teet My verses are perverse I'm high as **** words: failing Get low ill as **** so ******* sick, blowed half past belligerent, tweaking off my nasal drips, There's serenity in debauchery - ***** I ******* bask in it have a taste basketcase, I drink red bull it gives me ******* wings "Memento quod sumus lascivio venatus" Remember that you are playing the Game
0
Nov 29, 2013
Nov 29, 2013 at 9:00 PM UTC
duderocketship
Anomalous Phenomena
Toking on a cloud with ******* Jesus and his family Lame folks ask me how, its cause I ******* smoke religiously No God I smoke religious tree, I get ****** in the name of heresy You angry penguin ****** preach acceptance So praise the Lord and ******* shame on me My guise is Satan ***** and my swag is undisguisible heartless and no conscience, sicksicksix most recognizable -that statement may surprise a little but since we all surmise a little Why deny me as the devil when When I clearly play a golden fiddle. . . From Hell I made a deal and there is no repeal nothing you see is real, I will invade and pervade your mind So wait in anticipation, life's a figment of your own imagination I'll watch you dissipate into oblivion Pound for pound, I'm a cenobite at heart, I just haven't a heart to be found It's not hard for me its profound, the sound of suffering your soul is ours now and I will tear it apart Here's a toast to our orchestral Symphony of the flesh My swag's so ******* flawless 100 carrot diamonds, ******* love me cause I'm gorgeous can't stag no more, fat stacks galore embrace the force it opens doors Is there a source, but of course - it just lies dormant/ What's a ***** to a floor except a doormat And you know that I'm no diplomat It's just a fact I ******* hate those stinky ratchets And I sharply lack tact tell that ***** her ***** smells like Magikarp Body language, that of Snorlax someone once asked why don't have an open mind brains would spill out if my ******* snapback weren't so tight Its the season to seize C's and hallucinations be dazzlin em don't believe your eyes son, its only a phantasm but Words are like playdough, fun to play with not to eat So clap your ******* trap and get lost to the beat I can't be defeat So suckle my teet My verses are perverse I'm high as **** words: failing Get low ill as **** so ******* sick, blowed half past belligerent, tweaking off my nasal drips, There's serenity in debauchery - ***** I ******* bask in it have a taste basketcase, I drink red bull it gives me ******* wings "Memento quod sumus lascivio venatus" Remember that you are playing the Game
Continue reading...
72
I'm walking through the trees of an old wood. A stick snaps behind me and I freeze. Slowly I turn to see what is there. Standing tall and proud is a great stag. The stag runs at me as I turn to run. I trip on a branch and fall. As I stand to face the stag, it runs at me. It runs into me and disappears into my body. I realize the stag is me. I was running from myself. But no more will I run. I'm ready to face my demons.
0
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 11:24 AM UTC
phebe-f-rutledge
Demons
I'm walking through the trees of an old wood. A stick snaps behind me and I freeze. Slowly I turn to see what is there. Standing tall and proud is a great stag. The stag runs at me as I turn to run. I trip on a branch and fall. As I stand to face the stag, it runs at me. It runs into me and disappears into my body. I realize the stag is me. I was running from myself. But no more will I run. I'm ready to face my demons.
Continue reading...
12
You lied about my sweet weight, And you lied about my arches, You lied about your love for the depressions in my skin, You faked that sincerity Of course you lied, because how else Could you make love to my demise? You lied about your moon and my tides, But you tread upon on my land, Cheer as my salt beats my rocks into sand, I never flinched at your hand, I never quaked at your voice, But I should’ve, I would’ve if I had known that you would run my rivers dry, That you would lick your lips and sigh You’re sick in that the only thing I hold dear, You craved to hunt. You rip into the throat of my wild and reckless stag, Watch it bleed as it cranes to see by whose hand it falls,   As it breathes its last breath it catches sight of your thumb, It knows, but consciously it forgets, because It is with this abandon that I die for you daily, And you **** me anyway. I should’ve quaked at your voice, Hearkened to the screaming that ripped away my choice, You never loved my mountains, fountains of lies I threw back and back, You lied about my ocean that you don’t care to explore, It was critical and fatal, You lied about my sweet weight and that I cannot forgive.
0
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 10:27 PM UTC
caro-emv
My Sweet Weight and My Demise
You lied about my sweet weight, And you lied about my arches, You lied about your love for the depressions in my skin, You faked that sincerity Of course you lied, because how else Could you make love to my demise? You lied about your moon and my tides, But you tread upon on my land, Cheer as my salt beats my rocks into sand, I never flinched at your hand, I never quaked at your voice, But I should’ve, I would’ve if I had known that you would run my rivers dry, That you would lick your lips and sigh You’re sick in that the only thing I hold dear, You craved to hunt. You rip into the throat of my wild and reckless stag, Watch it bleed as it cranes to see by whose hand it falls,   As it breathes its last breath it catches sight of your thumb, It knows, but consciously it forgets, because It is with this abandon that I die for you daily, And you **** me anyway. I should’ve quaked at your voice, Hearkened to the screaming that ripped away my choice, You never loved my mountains, fountains of lies I threw back and back, You lied about my ocean that you don’t care to explore, It was critical and fatal, You lied about my sweet weight and that I cannot forgive.
Continue reading...
27
I heard him at first, though barely a sound, But I saw him, I saw me, on sinister ground. *I am the caution and stillness and sniffing the air, I am the fearing the danger that’s not even there, I am the ‘watch where you tread’ and the silence and hush, The always on lookout, the hardest to touch. I am the quickness and briskness and swiftness and speed, I am the flash of a tail and a warning to heed, I am the bounding and leaping and steam in the woods, The danger apparent, the fear understood.* And I felt myself crying, for as soft as the breeze, My beautiful deer melted into the trees.
0
Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 4:16 AM UTC
what-i-feel
The Stag
I heard him at first, though barely a sound, But I saw him, I saw me, on sinister ground. *I am the caution and stillness and sniffing the air, I am the fearing the danger that’s not even there, I am the ‘watch where you tread’ and the silence and hush, The always on lookout, the hardest to touch. I am the quickness and briskness and swiftness and speed, I am the flash of a tail and a warning to heed, I am the bounding and leaping and steam in the woods, The danger apparent, the fear understood.* And I felt myself crying, for as soft as the breeze, My beautiful deer melted into the trees.
Continue reading...
12
Out of the dark forest I stumbled onto the pebbles of a moonlit lake my languid eyes bumbled swallowing down philter mistakes a pale goddess in the flesh how my stupefied eyes stared at the beauty of her nakedness something in me flared flared and turned and burned my flesh no longer mine stag in form standing taciturn she calls out for my canines I run and try to yell nothing escapes my lungs pattering of legs hungry to quell come to rip flesh with teeth and tongues stumbling and tripping over stones, limbs, roots and mud left to a new life a stag rover I hear the ******* and the studs faster and faster I try to move from this typhoon wave of carnivorous hounds but curse these feeble hooves the claws and teeth came crashing around flesh stabbed with a thousand teeth a pack of mouths tear and pull a stag corpse I bequeath   to the hunger of my own wolves
0
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 2:07 PM UTC
EvilShredder
Actaeon the Stag
Out of the dark forest I stumbled onto the pebbles of a moonlit lake my languid eyes bumbled swallowing down philter mistakes a pale goddess in the flesh how my stupefied eyes stared at the beauty of her nakedness something in me flared flared and turned and burned my flesh no longer mine stag in form standing taciturn she calls out for my canines I run and try to yell nothing escapes my lungs pattering of legs hungry to quell come to rip flesh with teeth and tongues stumbling and tripping over stones, limbs, roots and mud left to a new life a stag rover I hear the ******* and the studs faster and faster I try to move from this typhoon wave of carnivorous hounds but curse these feeble hooves the claws and teeth came crashing around flesh stabbed with a thousand teeth a pack of mouths tear and pull a stag corpse I bequeath   to the hunger of my own wolves
Continue reading...
28
On rising heat, killdeer flush to decoy enemy-- threat to its young that roams too close They rush to skim on hayish blur wailing over wildflowers drying Fretful twitter in perpetual flight swifts-- twirl and hurl their bits of bodies-- debris from a cumulonimbus of a late-day sky toward a ridge of stag horn sumac presuming horizon primordial behind which time and city-- drift and wobble on rising heat-- after rush hour Rising Heat Rising-- to meet my mind on its way down from my post behind the laundromat where I view it all-- rising-- where I usually go in search of quiet to almost hear the ocean      two hundred miles away to strain words from wind      in careless conversation to wonder over      missed whispers.... But not today In rising heat, I went down in search of something better--      your eyes again      solvent for my presence of mind      dissolvers of hours and the order of things But I need an excuse!      To turn, to trespass, to disturb the peace!      For your eyes again! And still I need more-- being feverish, weak Or? Or... should I take the cure?      To deny ...To deny To deny what? Overtones from a sea of years? I don't know!  Whatever it was! Nothing explain it... I melt... I'm gone....
0
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 12:51 PM UTC
elizabeth-balise
After Rush Hour
On rising heat, killdeer flush to decoy enemy-- threat to its young that roams too close They rush to skim on hayish blur wailing over wildflowers drying Fretful twitter in perpetual flight swifts-- twirl and hurl their bits of bodies-- debris from a cumulonimbus of a late-day sky toward a ridge of stag horn sumac presuming horizon primordial behind which time and city-- drift and wobble on rising heat-- after rush hour Rising Heat Rising-- to meet my mind on its way down from my post behind the laundromat where I view it all-- rising-- where I usually go in search of quiet to almost hear the ocean      two hundred miles away to strain words from wind      in careless conversation to wonder over      missed whispers.... But not today In rising heat, I went down in search of something better--      your eyes again      solvent for my presence of mind      dissolvers of hours and the order of things But I need an excuse!      To turn, to trespass, to disturb the peace!      For your eyes again! And still I need more-- being feverish, weak Or? Or... should I take the cure?      To deny ...To deny To deny what? Overtones from a sea of years? I don't know!  Whatever it was! Nothing explain it... I melt... I'm gone....
Continue reading...
46
However this Stag Tradition breathes thus far Which works in all cases of Merriment That Ring is no Joke; And Youth points a Star To where your Heart will land in Sentiment He only Encourages, Dreams and Promotes As no Singer sang such Octave before Mark him Stranger; Not a Contest he connotes To challenge what had been Promised once more Such tell, that Woolen Strings are Postulate, A Theory already penned into Law That Fixed Hearts are veined in Mutual Rebate And Cupid signs both your names into Straw. Go to Her. She has sung Poems better Written This Bard resigns; Knowing he was Beaten.
0
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 3:18 AM UTC
xavier-paolo-josh-mandreza
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - SIXTY-FOUR - TOM DALEY
However this Stag Tradition breathes thus far Which works in all cases of Merriment That Ring is no Joke; And Youth points a Star To where your Heart will land in Sentiment He only Encourages, Dreams and Promotes As no Singer sang such Octave before Mark him Stranger; Not a Contest he connotes To challenge what had been Promised once more Such tell, that Woolen Strings are Postulate, A Theory already penned into Law That Fixed Hearts are veined in Mutual Rebate And Cupid signs both your names into Straw. Go to Her. She has sung Poems better Written This Bard resigns; Knowing he was Beaten.
Continue reading...
14
NOTE  -  The largest animal in Great Britain, a red stag named Emperor who stood over 9ft tall, was last night shot dead by a trophy hunter. The antlers of the majestic deer are highly prized, and after pictures of the stag appeared in the national press last week, the animal was tracked and killed in Exmoor, Devon. These mist covered mountains of the highlands, ‘twas here that I once freely wandered upon nature’s pasture grounds, Now I lie shrouded in the mournful fog of the lowlands, ‘twas here that I was met by a pack of bone breaking hounds. The fresh dew upon the harvest of autumn’s final flowering, ‘twas here that I chewed the grass of sweet nature’s offering, Now I grow cold upon the ground where I was stalked by dark doom, ‘twas here that I left life’s rocky way under a hunter’s moon. The air of the early morn moor with the sky above my dome, ‘twas here that I ran and with joy loved and royally roamed, Now my legs will nevermore click or clack over my domain fenced with tree gates, ‘twas here that I wooed and won my shy majestic mate. She, my queen of the green woodlands, she was my wife and my empire, ‘twas here that we romanced in the fading summer’s fire, Our charming child, my princess of these grassy hills now cloaked in shade, ‘twas here that she saw her father the monarch in death finally fade. In the chorus of the dancing dawn awakening upon the horizon’s golden rhyme, ‘twas here that I sang the tune that will drum till the end of nature’s time, They will come with stakes and wood and cross and bow me to the beams, ‘twas here where they hacked and tore off my enchanted crown of weeping dreams. The scent of the freshly mown grass mingles with the green pine, ‘twas here that I drank the perfume and nectar of the divine, My eyes glaze, my breathing falters, my clay chills, my soul no more sings, ‘twas here that I finally returned to the hands of my Beloved, the eternal King. *"...I shall now graze upon the sacred acres of my Creator, I shall frolic and run free in the tender fields of endless splendour..."* ©Rangzeb Hussain
0
Oct 27, 2010
Oct 27, 2010 at 3:08 AM UTC
rangzeb-hussain
Upon hearing of the death of the Monarch of the Moorlands
NOTE  -  The largest animal in Great Britain, a red stag named Emperor who stood over 9ft tall, was last night shot dead by a trophy hunter. The antlers of the majestic deer are highly prized, and after pictures of the stag appeared in the national press last week, the animal was tracked and killed in Exmoor, Devon. These mist covered mountains of the highlands, ‘twas here that I once freely wandered upon nature’s pasture grounds, Now I lie shrouded in the mournful fog of the lowlands, ‘twas here that I was met by a pack of bone breaking hounds. The fresh dew upon the harvest of autumn’s final flowering, ‘twas here that I chewed the grass of sweet nature’s offering, Now I grow cold upon the ground where I was stalked by dark doom, ‘twas here that I left life’s rocky way under a hunter’s moon. The air of the early morn moor with the sky above my dome, ‘twas here that I ran and with joy loved and royally roamed, Now my legs will nevermore click or clack over my domain fenced with tree gates, ‘twas here that I wooed and won my shy majestic mate. She, my queen of the green woodlands, she was my wife and my empire, ‘twas here that we romanced in the fading summer’s fire, Our charming child, my princess of these grassy hills now cloaked in shade, ‘twas here that she saw her father the monarch in death finally fade. In the chorus of the dancing dawn awakening upon the horizon’s golden rhyme, ‘twas here that I sang the tune that will drum till the end of nature’s time, They will come with stakes and wood and cross and bow me to the beams, ‘twas here where they hacked and tore off my enchanted crown of weeping dreams. The scent of the freshly mown grass mingles with the green pine, ‘twas here that I drank the perfume and nectar of the divine, My eyes glaze, my breathing falters, my clay chills, my soul no more sings, ‘twas here that I finally returned to the hands of my Beloved, the eternal King. *"...I shall now graze upon the sacred acres of my Creator, I shall frolic and run free in the tender fields of endless splendour..."* ©Rangzeb Hussain
Continue reading...
28
I am named wrong, They don’t care, Those humans who decide everything, Do I look like a Stag with Antlers? NO…my mandibles are strong and proud, I’m a grand beetle, Royal and fearsome (in appearance), But don’t worry I won’t hurt you.
0
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 5:58 AM UTC
simon-clark
The Stag Beetle
I am named wrong, They don’t care, Those humans who decide everything, Do I look like a Stag with Antlers? NO…my mandibles are strong and proud, I’m a grand beetle, Royal and fearsome (in appearance), But don’t worry I won’t hurt you.
Continue reading...
8
I blend cry not, An antic land, lest not Trot Blot On a sparkling terrain Epitome Heaven, Lo! That I hearken an Archangel yet? Gabriella tears, rears, near: I saw a stag, reindeer, lag, and flag in the distant snowy mountains…
0
Sep 17, 2009
Sep 17, 2009 at 5:13 AM UTC
muhumuza-kenneth-ezra
~Epitome Heaven: UTOPIA~
I blend cry not, An antic land, lest not Trot Blot On a sparkling terrain Epitome Heaven, Lo! That I hearken an Archangel yet? Gabriella tears, rears, near: I saw a stag, reindeer, lag, and flag in the distant snowy mountains…
Continue reading...
10
The fish does not understand Water But the stray-nine Understands home Sometimes it takes an absence A negativity, a darkness From the dust dream rises Like stars from the void Someone rides an elevator up Your spine and Bridge The direction is born Soul tendrils extend and Embrace tender lock of we Season together The fat men starve before the Peasant because they Have never really Ached In their stomachs In their bones When you live in famine Scraps can sustain And yet Will you still notice the Seven shade cycle rainbow-nectaring From the street lanterns? Or the Diamonds In ivory fro-banks glittering sparks? When you are full Will you Ponder the pulsar’s violence? Will you Spare the stranger and Samaritan oft? When you are full Don’t lose it Sadness is Your prism Choose the spectrum Transcend the neut and stag You can be their Atlas They Need It
0
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 2:07 PM UTC
ERRPoetry
161. Prism 1/10/13
The fish does not understand Water But the stray-nine Understands home Sometimes it takes an absence A negativity, a darkness From the dust dream rises Like stars from the void Someone rides an elevator up Your spine and Bridge The direction is born Soul tendrils extend and Embrace tender lock of we Season together The fat men starve before the Peasant because they Have never really Ached In their stomachs In their bones When you live in famine Scraps can sustain And yet Will you still notice the Seven shade cycle rainbow-nectaring From the street lanterns? Or the Diamonds In ivory fro-banks glittering sparks? When you are full Will you Ponder the pulsar’s violence? Will you Spare the stranger and Samaritan oft? When you are full Don’t lose it Sadness is Your prism Choose the spectrum Transcend the neut and stag You can be their Atlas They Need It
Continue reading...
45
the new tupac will have you too walkin with gangstas the new two stupidity now two steppin with prankstas murked the first one sayin he's blacker the berry when i'm sweeter than juice bass voiced top me if you want to experience that jacked tweeters induced when i own all of Victoria's secrets as proof tellin me what the body when all his deducement has him actin when he's wearin his shoes crypt walking like that it's only talk missed balking like has bass fits jocking as his only walk ******* with me when All Hailed Mary like if she was his when is only stolen balk I'm walkin again the gauntlet cuz all the women they want this flauntin all **** like if i was jackin all the wanted like ghost whippin me imma follow you till i'm haunted pain really, so bow down, when my diamonds glisten listen again is just as well bilateral biased has his confused his like the ol' eminem was in the new form gettin his face jacked again like me smokin crack with friends like all given enemies stressed was all given was a race black and then we actually are the same race like i knew you back like i owned all the streets like his females thuggin as heathen **** riding i'll **** your *** up like settin me up when i'm always the last muthafucken breathin exposing the ***** heathen breathin like if you were the only man catching bullet rounds exposed like the new you was still alive to the next ** hiked my socks up construed you at hit stupidity when will ride ghettos owned by just the black reppin when you're steppin the whack, honest it was just onyx i'll blast your *** like if you stole my pump shotty: like i never was wanted runst follies anamoly run has all criminal cops all fathering fun deceiving that all to gain was never greed when all greed in need bothering sons: all you still down with me when we ride it looking like a *** while i'm guy gee stag when you're looking into their eyes, they'd know comparison of a bird control as if fathering guys my knowledge is flight applauding the time, are you still down with me i hide behind the love of beauty of my womens eyes when you're looking like the female opened you up to your face compared to opening thighs they don't know like how you stare in the future that tommorow comes only after the dark knowing me marks the coming of the actual god I am "unconditional heart"
0
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 11:59 AM UTC
hanson-yang
The New tupac
the new tupac will have you too walkin with gangstas the new two stupidity now two steppin with prankstas murked the first one sayin he's blacker the berry when i'm sweeter than juice bass voiced top me if you want to experience that jacked tweeters induced when i own all of Victoria's secrets as proof tellin me what the body when all his deducement has him actin when he's wearin his shoes crypt walking like that it's only talk missed balking like has bass fits jocking as his only walk ******* with me when All Hailed Mary like if she was his when is only stolen balk I'm walkin again the gauntlet cuz all the women they want this flauntin all **** like if i was jackin all the wanted like ghost whippin me imma follow you till i'm haunted pain really, so bow down, when my diamonds glisten listen again is just as well bilateral biased has his confused his like the ol' eminem was in the new form gettin his face jacked again like me smokin crack with friends like all given enemies stressed was all given was a race black and then we actually are the same race like i knew you back like i owned all the streets like his females thuggin as heathen **** riding i'll **** your *** up like settin me up when i'm always the last muthafucken breathin exposing the ***** heathen breathin like if you were the only man catching bullet rounds exposed like the new you was still alive to the next ** hiked my socks up construed you at hit stupidity when will ride ghettos owned by just the black reppin when you're steppin the whack, honest it was just onyx i'll blast your *** like if you stole my pump shotty: like i never was wanted runst follies anamoly run has all criminal cops all fathering fun deceiving that all to gain was never greed when all greed in need bothering sons: all you still down with me when we ride it looking like a *** while i'm guy gee stag when you're looking into their eyes, they'd know comparison of a bird control as if fathering guys my knowledge is flight applauding the time, are you still down with me i hide behind the love of beauty of my womens eyes when you're looking like the female opened you up to your face compared to opening thighs they don't know like how you stare in the future that tommorow comes only after the dark knowing me marks the coming of the actual god I am "unconditional heart"
Continue reading...
30
. Lovers entered a forbidden forest bower, And as they stalked that range, with eyes glazed, She offered up her hind. Now, with doe eyes, Deep as his, deep in arousal's sleep, heels fell, As he knocked and pulled her dark honey hair And whispered, surrender, into wanting ears, Softly he drove his hunting command, homing To his huntress. Her body braced, yet bade, with heat and vibrance. Ruthlessly, he ****** his arrow deeper and then Once more and then again.  She bucked fiercely And defiant, goading his prodding lance ever more Ever longer, and parting the pink lines of her white Rose, he was, and once again, Prince to the dark Dominion of her quarters. In the middle of this carnal match they paused. And looking into the forest beyond they saw A yearling fawn, a feral Goddess, grazing still, Bathing in a vale, virginal, wholly unmoved By their act of venery, lustfully playing, in the innocent Leaves.  It was as if they were among her kin, a gentle Doe and a noble stag. From that moment on The human hunters did not speak. Falling, again, rolling eyes were deep in arousal's sleep. Her back was a crescent moon pocked and wet with dew. He could feel her heart beating in time with his piercing Prong, her arching back glistened in the suns spittle As it broke through the dark and vernal ceiling wood. In the final shot her quivering buck lowered and broke And a sound not heard, made a scene, a sweet murmuring Shuddered and sank onto the floor of the forest leaves With her tale, taken and told, her breathless breath, Her nostrils cold and her heated and lanced openings Dripping, draining; here was a New World’s beginning. Sated, solemn and softly quaking, his woman sweetly laid, And now, doomed with her doe eyes, two lovers, fated, made; She glowed, divine, like the rolling brook that mellowed Slow, in the vine-dark and golden forest stable, In Artemis’s wood. .
0
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 2:50 PM UTC
ormond
In Artemis’s Wood
. Lovers entered a forbidden forest bower, And as they stalked that range, with eyes glazed, She offered up her hind. Now, with doe eyes, Deep as his, deep in arousal's sleep, heels fell, As he knocked and pulled her dark honey hair And whispered, surrender, into wanting ears, Softly he drove his hunting command, homing To his huntress. Her body braced, yet bade, with heat and vibrance. Ruthlessly, he ****** his arrow deeper and then Once more and then again.  She bucked fiercely And defiant, goading his prodding lance ever more Ever longer, and parting the pink lines of her white Rose, he was, and once again, Prince to the dark Dominion of her quarters. In the middle of this carnal match they paused. And looking into the forest beyond they saw A yearling fawn, a feral Goddess, grazing still, Bathing in a vale, virginal, wholly unmoved By their act of venery, lustfully playing, in the innocent Leaves.  It was as if they were among her kin, a gentle Doe and a noble stag. From that moment on The human hunters did not speak. Falling, again, rolling eyes were deep in arousal's sleep. Her back was a crescent moon pocked and wet with dew. He could feel her heart beating in time with his piercing Prong, her arching back glistened in the suns spittle As it broke through the dark and vernal ceiling wood. In the final shot her quivering buck lowered and broke And a sound not heard, made a scene, a sweet murmuring Shuddered and sank onto the floor of the forest leaves With her tale, taken and told, her breathless breath, Her nostrils cold and her heated and lanced openings Dripping, draining; here was a New World’s beginning. Sated, solemn and softly quaking, his woman sweetly laid, And now, doomed with her doe eyes, two lovers, fated, made; She glowed, divine, like the rolling brook that mellowed Slow, in the vine-dark and golden forest stable, In Artemis’s wood. .
Continue reading...
41
A solid center presages two generous edges to shoulder the weight of the curve: the bow relinquishes tension to the anchors of the taut bow-string. The wayfaring archer tends to the curve, notches the arrow, selects the target, gauges the wind, surrenders -- *Riding like an arrow on the wind,       sure to find its mark in Breath,       and the end of Breath it portends.*       A reveler abiding the flirt of angle and arc, finite and eternal, arbiter of the holy moment, the dance linking death with life; So unbearably near the horizons, desire yields its grip to the coaxing womb of the curve: tension sighs into the space between arrow-head and its mark. *And in the transmission of feeling       is the spirit of Life,       clinging - so gently - to free itself       of its own burdens.*       A sudden violence voids archer and stag: Continuity rushes forth to meet the sacrifice. The heart of the bow resumes its tension. And the curve evaporates, all but a trick of Timing.
0
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 11:33 AM UTC
misadventuresofcrow
Asymptote
A solid center presages two generous edges to shoulder the weight of the curve: the bow relinquishes tension to the anchors of the taut bow-string. The wayfaring archer tends to the curve, notches the arrow, selects the target, gauges the wind, surrenders -- *Riding like an arrow on the wind,       sure to find its mark in Breath,       and the end of Breath it portends.*       A reveler abiding the flirt of angle and arc, finite and eternal, arbiter of the holy moment, the dance linking death with life; So unbearably near the horizons, desire yields its grip to the coaxing womb of the curve: tension sighs into the space between arrow-head and its mark. *And in the transmission of feeling       is the spirit of Life,       clinging - so gently - to free itself       of its own burdens.*       A sudden violence voids archer and stag: Continuity rushes forth to meet the sacrifice. The heart of the bow resumes its tension. And the curve evaporates, all but a trick of Timing.
Continue reading...
45
There's a stream, splashing and gurgling, sending up in the air a single bead of water, sun beams giving a lightbulb's twinkle   and inside lying fragments of it's history,  I wonder if it has a tomorrow As I daydream about it's mysteries; The path down the stream, taken within the flow with other waters, weaves, in and out of the gills of a baby minnow, over and through smoothed rocks, Seeping from a canal racing through locks, drifting down straights with no bends Left from the **** of a stag weekend, And before that a can of cider, and before that a tube in a mechanical assembly line, from a water tap, that came from a reservoir, Which fell from clouds above it's perimeter, and before that splashed from ocean froth, lifted up in a collision of waves like a table cloth after being taken on the hull of a speed boat carrying ******* from a river, where it had once briefly been on a paddle from a man fishing to make his living. And further up the river where it divides into streams and then nothing, and then famine, moist ground from tears, It had been someone suffering. A million lives entwined in a drop of water, each one a coincidence, coinciding just by chance the spectrum of it's experience of us is wide, and with each and every drop the water empathised, Tears at a wedding, At a funeral, Christmas spirit in mulled wine, A plume of sea water from the belly of a jellyfish, Pushed forward through it's life, A trillion drops of water helping to make gravity decide How high or low to go to make the tide, Unified in direction helped by the sun's and the moon's light, Does it take the love of one direction (not the band) to be unified?
0
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 8:35 PM UTC
anomalous-anonymous
Water
There's a stream, splashing and gurgling, sending up in the air a single bead of water, sun beams giving a lightbulb's twinkle   and inside lying fragments of it's history,  I wonder if it has a tomorrow As I daydream about it's mysteries; The path down the stream, taken within the flow with other waters, weaves, in and out of the gills of a baby minnow, over and through smoothed rocks, Seeping from a canal racing through locks, drifting down straights with no bends Left from the **** of a stag weekend, And before that a can of cider, and before that a tube in a mechanical assembly line, from a water tap, that came from a reservoir, Which fell from clouds above it's perimeter, and before that splashed from ocean froth, lifted up in a collision of waves like a table cloth after being taken on the hull of a speed boat carrying ******* from a river, where it had once briefly been on a paddle from a man fishing to make his living. And further up the river where it divides into streams and then nothing, and then famine, moist ground from tears, It had been someone suffering. A million lives entwined in a drop of water, each one a coincidence, coinciding just by chance the spectrum of it's experience of us is wide, and with each and every drop the water empathised, Tears at a wedding, At a funeral, Christmas spirit in mulled wine, A plume of sea water from the belly of a jellyfish, Pushed forward through it's life, A trillion drops of water helping to make gravity decide How high or low to go to make the tide, Unified in direction helped by the sun's and the moon's light, Does it take the love of one direction (not the band) to be unified?
Continue reading...
49