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Lora Lee Nov 2016
There is a new fire
in my soul
           its curves  
                wrap themselves
               around me
                      sinuous
             like a hot
          slithery
sheath of flesh
snakes of pleasure
       twirling in my deepest
                         womanflow      
           pumping inside
    my veins of mesh
Those licks of flames
caress as they spew
  they **** in my spirit
        spit it out anew
                undulating hips
        matching my own
            a middle east song
                igniting my bones
        suffusing my blood
with the raw, the bare
filling me up
with sparkling lava,
                   so rare          
This combination
          makes for a recipe hot
               like a piquant ghost pepper
                  in my spiciest spot
Now let me weave words
Let me conjure your
                           liquids
let me drench colors
upon your eyelids,
my spirit's
proximity vivid
Let me drown you in
            madness
in frothiest frequencies
           of love
let this symphony play out
powers screeching above
and as this vivacity beckons
          the soul in your eyes
our stormiest spirals
       will spill out rainbow fire
           and rise
for as we grow and reach out
there is a death of limitation
              as freedom breaks out
                   in ocean-soaked
                 emancipation
Our mutual worlds
heal each other's hurts
as my tongue licks
your wounds
rejuvenation asserts
hot springs of
              lifeflow
filling up cells
sensations of textures
a ringing of bells
So
as I weave this spell
around you
            fear not that you
will disappear or
thine own self lose
for we have only to soar
as we
   coax out
        the muse
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ZpXPwmbQvc
gets realllly going at 2:11

also
hwww.youtube.com/watch?v=5J8mvTWceO8
Meg B Apr 2014
A lone wolf;
Solitary soldier.
Too comfortable you have become
stumbling down a path
for one.

Blinded by
eyes closed
to the world that truly lays
beyond
your chosen screen
of wool
woven, cross-stitched with
Denial.

Hands you refuse to hold
as you boldly
trek
down the dusty trail;
howling out silently
so no one may hear.

Sporting a
mask
made
of self-loathing
and fear,
vulnerability the
enemy you choose to slay,
for surrendering to
a state of
naked, raw
passion
seems more frightening
than the darkest dungeon,
stormiest night.

Gulping down
another shot
of loneliness on the rocks,
not even a splash
of soda,
for you like the way it burns.
Inhale solidarity,
snorting your
line
after
line
of
self-destruction,
acidic dispelling of
feelings
chosen not to be felt.

Sometimes, though,
in the quietest of the night,
sitting on the lip of a deep
substance-induced-slumber,
you may whisper
in a tone you would hate
to be called sweet,
and the mask comes off;

till 2 PM,
waking and at it again,
alone, a lone wolf
howls
at emotional
sobriety
and takes another
drink.
svdgrl May 2014
Our summers carried hot days
where our skins shook loose and raw
wet and sticky
warm and blurry
like shared memories.
We loved the rain and shower
and felt safe under their power.
In the stormiest night I knew
we decided to cleanse ourselves of the day.
We stripped down to the ****.
We didn't know we had it in us.
The fence is high enough.
The sky is dark enough.
The fog is thickly cut
with a waterfall of storm.
We lit up blue when we heard thunder.
Stared at what's up above
and ran to shelter.
Our skins were soaked and bare.
It seemed to be a dare.
I looked down and my shoes were still on.
The magic disappeared.
Michaela Ferris Nov 2015
Now that you’re gone and I’m here on my own
I never knew that you’d made this feel like home
What do I do now that you’ve gone?
I hope your happy there with your place in the stars
‘Cause now I’m down here all alone in the dark

Please, if I could turn back the hands of time
I would finally get to say my last goodbye
Then maybe you would know how I really felt
And I wouldn’t be left here wondering.
If you are out there…
If you can hear me tonight please know
I wasn’t ready to let you go!

I promise you I will stay strong
I know that you wouldn’t want us all to cry.
There are so many things we never got the chance to say
But if you can hear me tonight
Please know that I love you so!

Please, if I could turn back the hands of time
I would finally get to say my last goodbye
Then maybe you would know how I really felt
And I wouldn’t be left here wondering.
If you are out there…
If you can hear me tonight please know
I wasn’t ready to let you go!

Oh please, don’t let me walk through this alone!
I ask you to give me your hand to hold
I know you’ll guide us through the night
And I promise you, I’ll try to do you proud.

The birds keep singing outside my window
And I watch how they fly away.
One day I will ride upon their wings
Over mountains and the stormiest seas just to see you
Where we will never have to say goodbye again.

Oh, oh, ohhhhh
Please, if I could turn back the hands of time
I would finally get to say my last goodbye
Then maybe you would know how I really felt
And I wouldn’t be left here wondering.
If you are out there…
If you can hear me tonight, please know
I wasn’t ready to let you go.
I've written this as a dedication to my nana who sadly passed away on the 20th October... R.I.P Nana - Gone but Never Forgotten. I'm sorry I never got to say goodbye.
When all around grew drear and dark,
And reason half withheld her ray—
And hope but shed a dying spark
Which more misled my lonely way;

In that deep midnight of the mind,
And that internal strife of heart,
When dreading to be deemed too kind,
The weak despair—the cold depart;

When fortune changed—and love fled far,
And hatred’s shafts flew thick and fast,
Thou wert the solitary star
Which rose, and set not to the last.

Oh, blest be thine unbroken light!
That watched me as a seraph’s eye,
And stood between me and the night,
For ever shining sweetly nigh.

And when the cloud upon us came,
Which strove to blacken o’er thy ray—
Then purer spread its gentle flame,
And dashed the darkness all away.

Still may thy spirit dwell on mine,
And teach it what to brave or brook—
There’s more in one soft word of thine
Than in the world’s defied rebuke.

Thou stood’st as stands a lovely tree
That, still unbroke though gently bent,
Still waves with fond fidelity
Its boughs above a monument.

The winds might rend, the skies might pour,
But there thou wert—and still wouldst be
Devoted in the stormiest hour
To shed thy weeping leaves o’er me.

But thou and thine shall know no blight,
Whatever fate on me may fall;
For heaven in sunshine will requite
The kind—and thee the most of all.

Then let the ties of baffled love
Be broken—thine will never break;
Thy heart can feel—but will not move;
Thy soul, though soft, will never shake.

And these, when all was lost beside,
Were found, and still are fixed in thee;—
And bearing still a breast so tried,
Earth is no desert—e’en to me.
Her delicate hand holds a snow white dove
Captive and yet still free
As her grip is as light as the air he breathes
Flying over his sparkling seas

By her lovely side he sits for hours on end
Never moving a single feather
Happily content to be held in her delicate hand
Through even the stormiest weather

One could easily ask how such a wild creature
In captivity, could be so at ease
With wings that could take him to places unknown
On the simplest touch of a breeze

Perhaps his contentment lies in the knowledge
That he is always free to fly away
Knowing that the delicate hand that holds him captive
Will continue to love him anyway
Copyright *Neva Flores @09/12/10
Logan Cestare Feb 2019
The puffy white clouds
The clear blue sky
The laughing friends all around
The crisp spring air

Heartbreak doesn't wait
For stormy days and windy nights.

Heartbreak is ironic.
It can happen at any time
From the brightest, happiest day
To the stormiest, darkest days.
And when you're blinded by the brightness of day
It becomes a little harder
To pick up the pieces

And in the moment
You realize that you are in your own bubble
Your worst day could be someone else's best
And in that moment, you are alone.
Eric Reiter Feb 2013
You
*******.

That's the first word that came to mind
when I met you.
"What an *******. I want nothing to do with you."
It's funny how things change, huh?
Not the you being an ******* part.
That's still true.
But now all I want
Is to be around you.

Inconvenient
Why are feelings so inconvenient?
My luck, I guess.
That's what I deserve for playing make believe.
For all of those time I fell into a daydream
Where we love each other
and everything is alright.
We'd be together and my fears
of being alone would be gone.
I'd get to wake up in the morning
next to your warm body
your head on my chest
listening to my heart saying thank you
for being alive.

Dreaming
I like dreaming.
A dream is like a blank canvas.
When you drift away,
you arrive to a giant mass of white
getting to stab at it with your brush
until it fills with color.
I love when I get to paint.
There is always
sunshine
rainbows
and you.

Reality
I wake up and get slapped in the face by reality
I'm forced to look in the mirror
And see everything I've been afraid of.
Nothing will happen. With us.
You've got your eyes set on someone else.
And I've got mine set on the softness in your eyes.

The fact that I'll never have you
is what I've come to accept.
It's what I've come to know.

But that can't numb the feeling
of tiny knives dancing around a fire
burning in my belly
every time I see your face.
It doesn't dim the light I see
when I work up the courage
to look you in the eye.
It doesn't stop me from wanting
to wrap myself in your laugh
and just melt.

From wanting to walk in front of you
and shield you from the
hate
ignorance
and dagger-like words
being thrown your way.
From wanting to walk behind you
and catch all of the pieces
when someone crashes through
that beautiful puzzle
called your mind.
From wanting to walk beside you
our fingers intertwined
with a promise of never letting go.

Always
I'll always have a place
in my heart for you.
For all of the moments
when you chased away the rain clouds
on my stormiest days.
The way your shining smile
never fails to create
a speck of beauty
against a dark silhouette of ugliness.

Instead, I'll just dream
and hope I never wake up.
I wish I could see her eyes
And be lost in her gaze
To kiss and have her sighs
Be in a wonderful daze

She is on the other side of the sea
So very near, but so very far from me
Just near her side to always be
I love how she always makes me free

Just to touch her beautiful hair
In my arms, to be able to hold her
I would give up my soul to be there
I would cross the stormiest weather

I do not care of how long it ever takes
I will be there, in how much life tries
I will not give up, this man never breaks
I wish I could see her eyes


copyright Chris Smith 23rd December 2009
j Jul 2013
I wish I could tell you how
you make me feel
like ten thousand stars
are nothing compared to your eyes

and I wish I had the capability
to describe the butterflies
that occupy the entirety of my tummy
whenever you are around

I want to be able to let you know
that your smile brings sunshine
to the stormiest of days
and the darkest nights, alone

I want to tell you how I feel
when your arms wrap around me
keeping me safe from a world
of nothing but false love

I wish you loved me
like I loved you
A major storm was brewing as I
Alighted back to the hotel when the porter
Told me that a young woman in a yellow hat had
Just moments before inquired about me.
I thought nothing much of it other than of its odd nature
Taking my leave from the porter with a thankful nod.
Entering the towers making my way – not to the elevator-
But to the stairs – for I often opt for the more difficult path.
As I went up the stairs coming to a landing 5 floors below
My own, I met a young woman in a yellow hat coming down.

I stopped to nod and give her free passage down the staircase –
Making sure not to fail in waiting upon her to pass - she stood
Staunch still in front of me saying, “I was afraid you had left town.”
Then she asked, “Do you have a letter for me?”
Somewhat bewitched I tried to think of what she was referring to
But my mind was so full of the yellow hat and those inquisitive eyes
I had not the presence of mind to understand her question, let alone
The ability to search for any logical conclusion.
“A letter?” I asked thinking only of the scarlet letter.

It was the darkest, stormiest of evenings in the latter part of May and
Even here in the stairwell the ozone smell of lightning was present.
When she spoke again I noticed the smell of the ozone was
Not of the typical “storm” type but rather that pleasant firmament
Was radiating from this yellow bridled – creature in front of me.
I knew I had to beat down my temptations, so again I asked, “What letter?”
“I’m sorry,” she said with a torturous half grin on her ruby lips, opening
The palm of her right hand revealing a small golden box – she continued - and as she
Continued I became aware of her accent – “My father, he past last week” –

“I’m so sorry,” I said interrupting her – “Please tell me – who was your father?”
She looked down at the box with a tear in her eye, “He is – was the count De Conti.”
Immediately I knew of who she spoke because I had had dealings with him before.
“I’m so sorry,” again I repeated purely out of stupidity not knowing what else to say.
“He said I was to find you and give this to you in exchange for your letter.”
With that said I thought I knew of what letter she meant – or did I?
“It’s in my room,” I said with no more attention to detail.
I led her back up the doubled five flights of stairs holding her by the one hand
While in the other she held the golden box.

At the door I fumbled with the card key until the little light on the door
Turned green – I opened the door to my room and she entered.
The crimson curtains – the same pattern and colors of the bed –
Were drawn closed, the lightning reflecting a more reddish hue
Than I remembered the curtains having – so warm a tint it affected the
Mademoiselle’s face – Somehow I took it as a blush so I blushed myself.
We were quite undeniably alone which induced a second blush before
The first one could get itself fully free.
It was a pleasing half-guilty blush where the blood is more at fault than the man.

My virtue flew impetuously after it – not to call it back mind you but
To make the sensations of it more delicious to the nerves.
Knowing these feelings are not sent by the righteousness of virtue,
I searched for the letter for five minutes, opening drawer after drawer then
Luggage piece after piece unable to think clearly – the devil was in me.
He I knew well as a capable adversary, whom if we resist will surely fly away
But I am not usually one to combat this formidable foe, fearing that I myself
Will be harmed in the combat – generally I don’t do anything and by my
Abstinence the devil must get bored of me and leave me alone.

The fair mademoiselle came close up behind me as if to help me search.
“Do you know what was in the letter” she asked?
I nodded yes and then she opened her handbag taking out a tissue and
Handed it to me along with a pen – “Then write it down,” she pleaded.
I wanted to yell, “Then I shall write it upon your fair lips,” but I knew
If I did I would surely perish, burned at the stake of honor – Instead I
Took her by the hand and led her to the door.
Then she did the unthinkable – she turned and placed both of her hands in mine
As if to say that all was alright with her.

It was impossible for me not to caress them in this situation.
I wished so hard to let them go but I held onto them all the while.
Her eyes looking into me with that yin and yang quest where
Her stare made me focus on her perception of myself.
No sooner did the inner struggle begin to fade than I found
Myself having to fight the battle all over again with my limbs
Trembling at every idea that filled my head.
Letting go of her hands, I took the pen and put it to paper not knowing
What to write -I scribbled something and started to speak when…

When last I noticed the bed should have been several feet from the door.
I still had the pen and paper in my hands when it happened – and I
Can give no logical account of how it happened – or why – I never asked her
Nor did I pull her – neither did I think of the bed – but so it did happen.
We both sat down.
Beside me she opened her hand again showing the golden box.
She reached first to her left pocket, then to her right pulling out a tiny key.
She put the key into my hand holding the box up toward me.
Seeing the key hole I inserted the key and turned it to the right.

As the box opened I felt her other hand on the nap of my neck.
I heard the box begin to play – “Somewhere in Time” as she crossed
Her legs beside me – I noticed that one strap of one of her shoes was loose.
Listening to the chiming melody I reached for the strap to buckle her shoe.
As I did so my guilt ridden feelings got the better of me and I said,
“I’m so sorry, I have something to confess, your father never gave me a letter
To give to you.”
After putting the strap into the buckle I lifted her foot and in doing so
I must of unknowingly threw her off center – and then
As she laid back on the bed pulling me with her -
She said, “I know, I have something to confess to you as well.
I wasn’t ever really looking for one.”
Do you ever dream like this?
Jessie Taylor H Apr 2016
To be kissed by your lips,
Every day and night
As I open my eyes
And as I fall asleep;
Is something I crave.

To lay in your arms,
On bright sunny days,
And even the stormiest of nights;
Is something I dream of.

But as sceptic as I am,
I truly believe;
That one of these days,
You'll belong to me.
4/5/2016
Somewhere in heaven a new flower blooms
its scent wafting down to earth
becomes a rainbow in our hearts
as the misery of loss
clouds our minds and tears pour
more copious and more fiercely
than rain during the stormiest of weather
and yet some sunshine creeps in
as your happy memories seep through
gladdening us just a little
as we remember
that you are safe now
happy and pure
an angel watches over you
as you dream sweet dreams

- Vijayalakshmi Harish
   13/08/2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
For my cousin Aruna - who passed away recently at the age of sweet sixteen. She will forever be missed and her memory cherished evermore!
wyatt rabbit Jul 2014
It was only inevitable that I would fall in love with you.
I knew it from the minute you first came into my sight
and ever since then I've been trying to tread light.
I've never been one to take it slow.
patience for me is agonizing
If it was you that I was after, I wanted you to know.
and I wanted you bad, you were so enticing
What's the use in hiding all the love I've got to show?
But loving you was like leaving footprints in the sand
two steps forward, Twelve Steps back again
til the tides washed them away
along with all the progress that we've made.
I have sailed through your stormiest seas
while you kicked up water and tried to drown me.
I held fast and tried to stay afloat
while you raged on and tried to sink my boat.
And then somewhere along the way
you realized I'm not one to stray.
I wouldn't disappear
I wouldn't turn to dust
you knew you didn't have to fear
that's how I finally earned your trust.
That's when you let me in
you let yourself love me too
and ever since then
its been easy sailin' with you.
You were well worth the wait,
that was something I always knew.
And even if I can't be your soulmate
at least for a while, I got to have you.


                                                              ­                                                     *smndi
Bogle Oct 2013
I find it amazing,
how the worst day,
and the best day,
of your life,
can be so close together.

how dusk turns to dawn,
and the sun starts to rise,
to a fresh day,
how you can get clear skies,
after the stormiest of weather.

So if the worst day has already dawned,
it's going to get better from here,
we'll build our selves up,
and our love,
will let us achieve our greatest endeavours.
Your lovely face, so pure and pale
I long to gaze into your heavenly eyes
they captivate this poor soul, ah yes!!
I am but a prisoner of your essence
and my skin calls for your tender touch
Those rose tinted lips to kiss throughout
the stormiest of nights within my arms
To embrace you in loves gentle light
and to warm you on the coldest of days
I will gladly suffer great agonies to love you
You are worth every single one and tenfold
my sweet love, can't you see that I adore you?
Skylar Del Re Oct 2018
you are my north star
no matter how far
I follow where you are
my heart is a compass
pointing in your direction
north, south, east, or west
cosmic connection
true perfection

no matter the weather
i would search forever
to have you next to me
i would climb the tallest mountain
i would sail the stormiest of seas
to be with you, your all i need

like an explorer, you mapped out my heart
soul mate directions even in the dark
you are my new world
so much to discover
this beautiful life
with you as my lover
and so i am yours
our journey begun
twin flames united
melting two into one
Olivia Kent Dec 2014
She found a bottle on the shore.
A missive within.
All sealed and dry, for his heart 'twas broke.
Communication from far off shores.
A flagon of glass,
bore his heart.
A ladies man wrote to a lady of note.

"Lady Annabel, I trust this letter finds you well.
My ship of war, she transcends the waves,  
I was moved to write to you a note,
I trembled as I wrote these words,
A covenant to our love,
a declaration,
Sadly I doubt that you will ever see.
Being stolen from thy passion.
Let pen upon paper be writ.
My tumescent heart be broken."

Such grief felt as relieved by his pen,
Into the sea from his almighty ship.
His words forthright tossed.
Unto the stormiest swell.
By the grace of Neptune,
his vessel was caught,
rode the tide of time.

Now 'tis warm upon the summer sands.
An unexpected blessing found,
grounded upon the shore as was said.

A name and address of his lady,
She, for whom the note was meant.
Penned perfection from her beau,
the sailor whose heart so bled.
The spirit of Annabel, the lady so dear.
Found by her Grand-daughter,
The Lady Annabel De Vere.
The first lady Annabel, long since passed away.
Young Lady Annabel, went to out to play.
Regardless.
(C) Livvi
One day, I want to be
the girl who gives him a heavenly glow.
One day, I want to hold his hand
and never worry about letting go.
One day, when we're old and married
I want him to be ready to catch me.
One day, I want to be
the only person he wakes up to see.
One day, he will be mine
and all we'll have is time.
One day, I want to be there waiting
for the moment when he comes home.
One day, I want him to dry my tears.
One day, I want to reflect on past years.
One day, I want to be the only reason
the sparks in his eyes never die.
For one day, our love will last forever
even through the stormiest weather.
One Day…
Kristen Mar 2015
And now I Yawp--
Across the hills, over the stormiest seas and why?
I am no longer afraid!
I loafe myself, yes, and more--
I am Alive, and also
living.
What a great and tragic thing to be!
I relish my versatility--
I have power! The power to choose!
And in every moment we make ourselves---
And I choose the colors carefully
But yet they come together in a wild way
Because I am Alive!
And tomorrow, I may not be.
Oh, to be living!
And I am dying, too!
Never once before has my Pride been less of a vice
For in it
There is humility.
As I recognize the vast expanse of my own Power
I take responsibility
And lower my hands to the dirt
And my self to the ground
And examine my tread-marks.
And I will walk with a Purpose!
No more shall I pretend myself a helpless aside,
Lost in the current of my own life!
No!
I, I am responsible for my every action,
And as I move, I move us all.
(If the movement may be small.)
So small as to be unnoticeable, yes,
But what significance I have is still Significance.
And thus I walk alongside my kin and carry my morals upon my shoulders.
I. Must. Not. Back. Down!
Am I afraid of my own success?
Of course!
But I mustn't let that stop me;
For there is something at work that is
Much larger than I shall ever be--
And I am a part of it.

I do not separate myself from the system, but instead recognize my movements in it
And its movement in me.
To be fair, I have never finished reading Whitman's.

I should also note that recognizing the things that you can't control is as important as recognizing your power....
I spend this remaining time thinking of you. This song floats my mind on its stormiest day. I wait for it to calm, but you are all that stays. No matter how much I shake, you stay like a snow globe; no matter how much is around you, your face is a clear picture. This melody sends me back to a time where everything was okay. I sway to the beat wishing you were in my arms. I wish the brightest day was when you smiled in front of me. Your eyes spray sunshine, but our memories tear me apart. I wonder if you'll ever read my pointless poems. I've spent too long regretting what never could be. I'm sitting behind a phone listening for the moment I can burst into a conversation with you, but its 1 am.
Edmund black Oct 2019
——-
Wide awake
In my fantasies
I see
The truth of you

Fallen hopes
Broken wings
Shattered dreams
While smiling for the world

But it’s undeniable
Betrayals have left their scars on you
Like season blues

Many ways, any way
Love shall insulate your heart
When endure the darkest day
With the stormiest weather

Reach deep within
For there is magic
Inside
Listen closely
To the music of your life
playing inside
Like an orchestra
Playing a symphony

Without words hanging on
For dear life
No doubt,
This journey deemed to lead you
Into the dark unknown
Like a vast empty desert

Hold on, keep pushing
I proposed the forward motion
Until your destination comes into view

Darling be brave in your solitude
And remain in tune
Until you arrive
where the Flowers
Are stunningly beautiful
Calm and liberated
      
Even you
Won't recognize
         Your beauty
     On the other side
              
   Fly
                Away
Your path is chosen, you just have to discover it within.  On the path, you have to travel by yourself but there will be guides along the way to help you arrive at every destination. But don’t focus so much on arrival...some of the most important lessons are in the journey, in the “getting there”. The most important reason for going from one place to another is to realize what's in between. And finally the reward awaits you!
Michael Marchese Jun 2017
These Andean summits
As high as the sky
Were where I once nested
Beyond them I'd fly

And I'd shadow the valleys
And jungle and stream
In a kingdom of clouds
On an Inka sun beam

Atahualpa they called me
My people below
As I raised them above
All the seeds that they sow

For my beak could speak volumes
My talons could write
And my wings were a symbol
Of freedom in flight

Yet to see from my heights
And be one with the winds
Was to sacrifice all
Of their dollars and sins

Which beckoned much sweeter
Then carrion choirs
And tasted delicious
To carnal desires

A belly of maggots
Then filled me with darkness
To scavenge a life
On an emptiness carcass

The once bird of prey
Who so countered these cultures
Was brought to their level
To feast with the vultures

Whose Gods ***** and ravaged
The lessons I taught
Then they slaughtered my kind
In the wars that they fought

Still some look to my peaks
In the stormiest weather
But all that remains
Is an acid rain feather

Now lost to the zephyrs
My species extinct
I'm as dead to their world
As the legends I've inked
Michael Marchese Sep 2017
We poets are teachers
The artists, the leaders
The dreamers, the weavers
Of minds of the infinite
Wisdom conceivers
The gods that you worship
Were made in our image
The heroes you envy
Are born of our wrath
To walk in the steps
Of our off-beaten path
We are mythical martyrs
On whimsical quests
To tickle your fancies
And beat in your chests
When you lock it away
We are there with the key
And a piping hot cup
Of divine empathy
For we feast on your pain
And we dine on your pleasure
We bask in the sun
Of the stormiest weather
And none may deny us
The power we hold
Not an ocean of greed
Nor a mountain of gold
Can stop us or touch us
For we own the skies
The angels you honor
Composed of our songs
Yes we poets are muses
The Tantalus juices
The shapers, the wakers
Of your inner-peace in this life
We are makers
Amanda Kay Burke May 2020
What a beautiful surprising life
Is so precious but it cuts you like a knife
A painful sunset shakes thoughts awake
Every evening from the fantasies we make
A bright new sunrise in the early haze
Midafternoon hot like a blaze
Commanding time
Providing light
She rules day
He rules night
The moon cloaked in shades of black
The sun robed in white and blue
Perfect balance to steady the universe
Allowing meaning to all we do
King and Queen of humble Earth
Governing vast sky
Without reciprocation
No complaining
No asking why
How come I am so ungrateful?
Why can't I realize I am blessed?
I should be thanking trees for the oxygen supplied
Instead cursing the air inflating my chest
I need to open my eyes all the way
Look a little harder around
Because on days with no sunshine to be found
Just under clouds that star is still there
Reliably shining away from man's stare
It is true that every second in this world is a gift
Remember next time you feel low and seek a lift
Cherish miracles hidden
Great and small
Gaze towards the heavens when bowed by a fall
Even if you can't see its glow or feel its gentle burn
The sun is there in our stormiest hours
Eventually it's presence will return
My mom and I wrote this together. It's nice to have someone who cares as much as she does, but sometimes it is a lot to take.  Family is a blessing.
Life put me on this earth to conquer and succeed,
Life didn't give me a heads up on all the extras I would fear,
This time capsule I was stuck inside, short on air and had the odds to beat,
All my life I was raised to respect all but fear none,
Pros and cons rang inside my head like the loudest gun,
Bullets were running laps around my brain,
Death, blackness, it all was beautiful To me,
It still is, until you came along, you interfered with my thoughts,
Even when I tried desperately to block your signal, you bulldozed my heart with soul,
Your soul is made of fire and courage,
Your eyes that of a lions, your heart that of a doves,
Your wings broadened my passion for the person inside you,
You live deep, where nobody can get to you,
I reached and reached until you gave a hand,
You gave me an opportunity to prove to myself, to prove to you that I could stand behind you even in the stormiest winds,
My love, I love you, you threw my sin away,
You tore my horns off and gave me wings,
The debt I have with you, I love you
Sehar Bajwa Jul 2018
In the stormiest of nights,
On the darkest of days.
During the harshest of fights,
Going through a difficult phase.


and even when we're not-
I promise we'll be okay.
Jowlough Mar 2020
The reversed desire.

Over years and years of striving and adjusting, adapting from the real life after school, learning, working and building everything from careers to a home - eventually you will get everything most from material things and desires, your pursuit, to stuff and state you’ve initially dying to get.

And when you’re there. Your young self will realize that there might be bigger things in life, but your core self will realize that your contentment is at peak. Now you’re starting to feel rusted, perhaps, sometimes, pragmatically bored.

Through experience you will see light in every darkness, from different kinds of human beings that became, and is part of your life. You’ve known it. You see the motives, you see through everything. Two steps ahead, the outcomes, the results, the fallback and the possibilities. You map the unmapped and if there are new branches of the path you expect and you realized it’s a breeze to know how to navigate it. You will come to a point that there are few things in life that matters to you. A love one, family or a passion. Yes - You achieve it all. You are an achiever. You don’t beg. You have it. You can have  it. You’ve mastered the art of timing, and the art of going to different kinds of war. You got nothing to ask for and you’re not thrilled with life.

But the thing is - you’re just in your thirties. You don’t have the luxury of life like what people see in social media, and you don’t mind. You have a sense that you don’t need anything anymore. It happens. Now there are instances that you mindlessly self destruct. People may view this as a kind of immaturity, but they cannot understand you. You know their stand, all those stereotyped uncle’s and friend’s judgements blow in your face, But still, You’re cool with it - but it ***** that no one understands your state of losing your sense of purpose.

It comes. The bad thing is - you’re young. There are people who reached a state of “Whatever life throws at me, I can handle it” phase where they are millionaires at their 40s, 50’s, 60’’s - Or, the other side, when all other things are well handled, You still can forecast that you can handle everything without any volatility in terms of your physical, mental, financial and emotional health - but what if you’re just in your early 30’s. It will seem that a lot of people will not understand you. You are still in the build phase and still a ‘baby’ essentially in terms of the human lifespan, and yet, you are telling that you are having your peak?

True enough, it sometimes, happens. And it is quite difficult. Mostly, you are a giver. You’ve spent vacation-less years working like a dog, pursuing everything at a high rate of speed, going on to finish-lines earlier than your peers. Taking care of people around you, loving without any expectation of returns at all aspects. You become an eagle. An eagle that roams the bluest skies and stormiest weathers hunting for your self. A wolf, that provides sufficient resources for the pack. A loving human that is always misunderstood yet - you’ve become a person with a wisdom, not caring for things you cannot control, with an indestructible armor of self belief, smashing every goals and roadblocks in the way. And yes - you will reach a point where you don’t lose. You are a super machine adapting and leveraging to every scenarios thrown at you. You are a master of everything. Nothing can bring you down. Not even any lowest point of your life, which you’ve experienced and evaded smoothly because you have an amazing comprehension on everything, both intellectually and in relationships. You pick your battles, and you are a hustler. But when you go home alone, your mind spans big like the universe. You’ve mastered the art of contentment. Whatever is lacking, you supply. So in short, you are young, you don’t need anybody. You are a giver, and you can maneuver on anything - Now there comes a time, what is next and what is the point? Moreover, what makes you happy? What is the next stage? What is the inspiration?

You are reading up to this point because you might be one of them. I’d tell you, there are a few people who can relate, and are self-sufficient. We’ve been too wounded and scratched to worry about anything. Sometimes, too strong for our own good.

Sometimes, we own our own mind too much and overrated as it sounds, we’ve mastered the battles in our wars too much in our own ways that we come to a point that we cannot move forward due to a lack of drive to anything. We tend to misunderstand if this anxiety is some form of mental illness. Maybe? Maybe not? But how will we move forward like you usually do. You solve everything. You are used to failures. Failures are normal and you learn from it. What’s next? What thrills you? What’s the point of living?

Sometimes you will get so consistently efficient in everything significant to you, could it be work, career, passion projects or people - to a point that all you wanted are the reverse of things. You go hard, you achieve it, but then what? There are moments when what matters are those things that you ‘must-not’ have, that you currently have - and you’re thrilled about it.

Wait, what? Yes - sometimes, you will reach a point where there is something called “The reversed desire”.  This is your challenge at the back of your head. This is the hidden martyrdom that triggers fuel from your soul. The what-if’s inside your heart. You know you can get anything you want, and therefore, what if I could lose something valuable? A death maybe? A hard reset?

Just like what is happening right now. We are in the middle of a pandemic. This is the time where all your creative juices should be flowing. You think of silly things. You ideate. We can conclude that anything has a reset button, even the world itself. Now what if you don’t have what you have? Will it supply the needed fire to your heart to continue living? What if you reverse your desires just to make a dent to your cold soul and continue thriving to the given norms?

You don’t get satisfied with anything unless you un-have it. Brings to a point, that man is a pleasure seeking animal. And if you’ve mastered the most stoic approach at life, Your spirit might seek the alternative ways to satisfy your inner life crumblings. It’s always a reset essential that enables you to do more.

The reversed desire.
forget the neglected aspects of the night sky
start a fire and watch the wood burn dry
kindness lies in piles
as we bundle our spines together
we tie our minds like feathers
and prepare for the stormiest of weather
can you show me parts of myself
for those gifts are truly wealth
as sentence structure denies clear definition
we make ablutions in the ganges for our absolution
fine tune the ancient runes
to see beyond ruins into chambers of the mind
the rooms we never find are the cleanest
yet still as ***** as your eyes
i sigh and look inside to find my alibis
as pleasing as the night sky
you are high as the sun
we are coming undone
somewhere we share the same birthday
tell me who is that taciturn man in the blue shirt
and who is it that endures all this hurt
forever defended we gasp for air
with our hearts on our sleeve
we can no longer bear to breathe
feelings hurt you look away
what a shame it had to turn out this way
send me your sorrow in a bag
i’ll hand you tomorrow but don’t remove that tag
some are bought and some are sold
some are silver and some are gold
some are warm and some are cold
just forget this and do exactly as you’re told
the lonely and the depraved
both are seeking for the same thing
a moment of hope to end their suffering
My tribe are the family I've made my own
They are the ones that have been by my side
In the lowest of times
In the stormiest of tides
Not many I've let in or many that see me right
But true to words they love and care
Thicker than blood
- A pact we'll share
Arek Sep 2019
i'll be travelling light tonight
my toothbrush and my comb
for there's no easier journey than
the one that takes me home

the moon will light the midnight road
the stars will point the way
and i will not be looking back
to winds of yesterday

because i've walked the stormiest paths
and many shoes i've worn
my eyes they want to see the world
but heart want's where it's born
Michael Marchese May 2019
The morning forlorn
After stormiest grays
By the rooftop is borne
The residual rains
A mellifluous sound
Pitter-patter atop
The tin ticking in rhythm
To my alarm clock
To be tranquilly roused
From intermittent slumber
Dispelling my scatter-brain dreams
As the thunder
Recedes from the night before's
Boisterous bellows,
Awakes to the break of day's
Mellowest yellows
And shades of the silhouette trees
At high noon
Complimenting the hues
Of my colorless blues
But contrasted against
Scintillating elation
Of past paradise's
Fragmented mentation
Demented dimensions
Of polychromatic
Prismatic
Ecstatic
Sporadic sense
Magic
The tricks that it played
On my mind
Automatically
Made in my image
A timeless depravity
Gravity swept off its feet
With a stroke
Of a heart so replete
With the ones that it broke
And oh how it wrote
Of lament penitence
To dispense with such beauty
I haven't seen since
What I do now, determines how they remember me.
I have to stay joyous and happy just like December be.
Keep my spirits high, clear my mind, boost my energy.
Share love until the end, whenever be.

To those I've been ghost to, can I still make it up to you?
Let's reflect on the good old days, and do whatever you want to do.
We don't know how much time is left. It could be just a few.
When will it all end? We haven't the slightest clue.

I want to acknowledge the people I've met over the years.
To those who are still here and to those for whom I've shed tears.
Thanks to everyone who has ever helped me face my fears.
I don't have enemies, it burns energy. Hope I made this clear.

People I've met have admired my humorous style.
I'm depressed most of the time; I do it just to make them smile.
Other people's happiness contributes to my wellbeing.
This is why I tend to obsess over whoever I'm seeing.

Wish I could be there for everyone during their darkest hour,
But unfortunately, I can't. I haven't got the Father's power.
The journey is still on. We haven't made it to the farthest tower.
No matter what, we have to make it through the stormiest showers.


-           LUMARVENS ALEXANDER

— The End —