"supercede" poems
Post person or whatever.
Always turning up.
Regardless of the weather
I feel for the postie upon this chilly day.
Relied upon to bring with him, all Christmas in his sack.
Bringing bills and festive notes from Southampton to John'O'Groats.
No suprise from Santa Claus.
Just a chilly postman going to the doors.
Through rain and snow the postman goes.
Trotting with his smile intact.
Waiting for Christmas to come around again.
His mailbag always laden, that's a fact for sure.
I wonder when the day of e-cards supercede.
The postman may redundant, not coming to my door!
Thank you post person,
You do a vital job.
(C) LIVVI
Dec 11, 2017
Dec 11, 2017 at 11:27 AM UTC
S
o when I die, burry me inside the deepest of graves
farther than six-feet-under, because if I’m that close
I won’t behave. I’m too close to him, through the earth
I feel his sins, and they keep me alive until
T
omorrow. When the quiet life subsides, there’s no blue
left in the sky, and the life we thought we lived was just
a happy little lie. **** affection, I don’t need it, all my
lies will supercede it, and I don’t need some therapist
O
ver-analyzing my thoughts, because I’m already dead.
Love was just a word we made up to feel better about
the holes in our shoes and the ones in our hearts, and
maybe I’m not over him, but I’m over the thought of him
R
eaching out and grabbing my hands, he’s a boy, not
a man, and he’s too afraid to whisper ‘I love you, too’
because he’s too busy trying on a new pair of running
shoes, and I know he won’t ever love me, even though
G
od and him both tell me to wait and see, and I know he
won’t stay, even though he swears he’s anchored to me
and I know when the sun sets, he’ll be nowhere to be found
just burry me at least seven feet under the ground, ‘cause the
E
arth will love me more than him, and the frigid temperatures
will remind me where I am, and the sun will bleed down promises
(not so empty this time), and my corpse will be the breeding
ground for new life. I don’t love him, but I’m glad he killed me…
I always wanted to be a flower.
Now I get to be a whole bed of them.
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 3:40 PM UTC
Searching your mind,
Revealing your soul.
A piece of my mind,
Making you whole.
The depths of your feelings,
Defines the depths I will go.
I know what I know,
Time for me to show,
How well though.
Like never before,
Here I go.
Persuading your body,
In so many ways,
You're powerless to evade,
The prowess of my ways.
Caressing your tenderness.
These moments your memory will replay;
Haunting parts of your body in a special way.
Reminiscent of this very day,
Our parts bonding as we lay.
Still influenced in ways you can't see,
Rather feel, so its as real as can be.
These unique pleasures bestowed upon you,
Impaling your reality with my point of view.
This abundance of energy; this vitality.
A reflection of you and me.
Enticing you mentally,
controlling you physically,
releasing you and me chemically.
Doing it intelligently.
Getting deep inside of you
So you can better understand me.
I am the man leading your hand
follow my lead and you'll supercede
peaks and ****** in ways never seen.
Now that I'm on the scene
driving you crazy, taking the scenic route in between throws of passion while Kinging my Queen
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 9:05 AM UTC
The word interminable
is more than just a word.
Interminable is watching the sunrise
from a sleepless bed.
Interminable is staring at the ceiling
for hours searching for answers
in off-white oblivion.
When your life is just begun
but cannot seem to end quick enough.
When you're happier surrounded
by smoke and strangers
than you are alone.
Do you know interminable?
I think you do
It's when you wander the streets
going to work
going to school
going to live
and the air screams
the sun flickers
and no one is saying anything
but no one will stop talking.
Interminable is the sadness
the confusion
the overwhelming yearning for silence or something graver.
And you know that that too shall pass
that you're not always so sad.
That you've got a laugh able to warm hearts,
but what does it matter?
Why does it matter at all?
Days weeks years of happiness
are but fleeting moment.
But every second of sadness
is as interminable
as the weary days and weary ways
of the burning stars which supercede time itself.
Oct 21, 2010
Oct 21, 2010 at 11:51 AM UTC
Many blessings upon you as you settle into your new address.
Since that workshop of yours I attended many moons ago, I have been in the practice of what you call "kiss poems". Though this exercise comes as gracefully for me as to be almost involuntary, I disagree with its name, how it implies temporary as fleeting;
*
the breadth of time allowed for a kiss
should supercede that of a pair of lips pinching each other
it should be amnesia breaking like a fever
it should be dodging bullets
and finding forgiveness
capturing the sun
a spinning panorama centered around two people in a busy train station
we get closer as the universe drops away with every revolution
it's William Blake standing in line at MPI
it's long lost friendships
it's fond acquaintances reintroduced in a museum after a thousand years
it's the accumulating caress of cresting tides
it's finding out what's on the other side and staying awhile
it's a lazy afternoon to make up for a lifetime
it's your song on the radio
it's an unyielding hand on a shoulder as a foot leaves a precipice
it's, "I'm sorry"
it's, "I know"
all this said as read should allow for the breadth of a kiss
for more, for less
*
dear Mr. Wint,
*
the breadth of time allowing for a kiss
should leave a pair of what was once previously anomalous,
identified indefinitely as a singularity
lips like fingerprints
forever evident
*
At the risk of being contentious, I just wanted you to know I wrote a poem, and you're to blame.
Thank you.
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 7:32 AM UTC
Ignorant Minds, They Stay Behind
as Enlightened Souls, Fill the Sky
Their Souls Levitate and Intertwine
as The Ignorant Minds ,They stay blind
The Levitating Souls Twist and Bind
Forever Increasing At An Alarming Size
Illuminated Spirits, Illuminated Minds
Supercede All of Mankind
Joining Souls Start to Climb
All Together, Stopping all Time
Ignorant Minds, They Stay Behind
May 30, 2011
May 30, 2011 at 12:05 AM UTC
I wish I discovered religion
Like how I accidentally discovered ******
That way I'll be ******* addicted to it
I wish I wasn't made to study religion
But learn about how God loves me
That way, my knowledge for his love
Would supercede the doctrines and rules
I can't be an atheist
But I deeply don't love him like I should
I want to but I don't want to study his love
Anymore.
So religion or nah.
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 4:58 AM UTC
can you differentiate pain ?
and rate it according to your own scales
can you measure it by age or race
who doesn't know pain ?
because we have all felt pain
it does not segregate
and so is love
should supercede the rest
Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 6:30 AM UTC
Creating a new cryptic language.
These are the sips from the goddess 's fountain.
Deep levels of wizardry my mind constantly stuck in cardio. These reads SUPERCEDE your needs.
**** pressure. I always kept it together no matter the weather
I will always see the TESLA in you.
You are the air currents that satisfy this mood
the energy from my roots
constantly fighting INERTIA just to get next to YOU.
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 5:51 AM UTC
It seems that each time I climb my own Pulpit
Hoping with my Values you could soon know
These Arrows stab me; Some ***** my habit
Whilst others painfully stub my Big Toe
I suppose, that even if I Intercede
Which by the way un-crossed from my Contract
Would such Fence stand still; Yet I supercede
Beyond my Instructions I would extract
Apart from your Blood. Yet such Energy bleed
Checking my Virtues to your Good Effect
If at least Fail my own Ripe Moral's need
Must then tune your Future to your best Aspect.
Though Foreign am I, my Message give Hope
Could your Heart brush Wax; And your Mind feign Dope.
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 3:40 PM UTC
plenty, I'm free, I'll do it myself
this strand is an obscured veil
I'm towering like a queen of combat,
I've become unshakable
so, sketch, let me write you,
send inspiration
you crave it all, I'm aware
what do you seek in me these days?
maybe it's due that we partake
this, in this moment, the cold breeze
it becomes profound
just hide your lips for a vivid fabrication
scream music and lift up the mother warmth
the hunger won't cease until the light flees,
these days
the diagonal is luring an unfilled bottle
confidence that the muted can supercede
I'll take a quill to the creature
so, come, let me reveal the world
outside of your comprehension
your hold, make it real
I'm dragging you to the café
the atmosphere, the ground,
the diamond planets, and
mother warmth
we'll dig them down with
mountain rivers
I want your eyes to get big again
they're weighed with insomnia,
sleepy with stories
your hold, make it real
I'm dragging you home
-c.j.
Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 4:07 AM UTC
This contemporaneous as conventional of the best of this age:
Perpetuated through time eternal as if spire was a switchblade to just a fist-blade finds heart-separating-breath to have you bleeding soul prone as relative in every shit-made;
Repeating poetry as if precision-aim-range lived was just a life to heart-protected of body of work as dialect-soul pierces all youthhood flesh of as if instead of the thigh as if the wisdom reflected work you imagine-defeat as it had missed-misses and pierces your heart-protection through the spire-contemporaneous-sacred as “bone” of every ribcage;
****** -lit-crave overtakes all renderings of the body of remaining as just this as I’m walking along reading yours for bliss-haze;
Abdominal exertion absolution of currency of all structure as time motions flex compared posed as poetry is now contextual -body to know of what of whomever of “this” age;
Bicep growth to slow-life as all poetry becomes idle in competition as life again to “regrowth” idle idols as life to now just opportunity mere-stated-epic had just in the mere absolution rendered all to motions of time of this rage;
There is no missed at all of work as all constant is now time;
None of it ever is ******* with mine;
There is no life again to re-correct or to ever re-see;
For none of it is never “ever” existence when ******* with me;
There is no regrowth as if metamorphosis of being time in pace of paths of “species even of duplicative Man” that will never meet ever again of know of this-phase;
Now psychological beings to body to poetry is now only supercede from just one being from time-absolute is now manifesting only Id-shame exerted poetry now to just a fist crave;
I take all body as if they were all as intellect absolution becomes only of youth now to wish-epic is Id manifesting now moment-existence of just what this changed
Like a dream--Contemporary Convention and the eternal infinite dropped down grasps lifts all heavy objectivity up as the body of just this day…
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 12:47 PM UTC