"synchronizes" poems
Is it possible to miss a persons chest?
The way it rises and falls with their breathing and pulses with blood flow
Letting you know they are alive, just as you are alive
And your timelines interconnect the way your breathing synchronizes
You walk with your right foot forward and he trips over his foot to match your careful steps
You love to hear the rhythmic ebb and flow of whispered thoughts into your ear
And on his chest your head is resting like the pillow you slept on last night except much more comfortable
The cold air outside gives him a chance to explore your arms and hands
and make you feel protected and loved
You feel home again even though the house you grew up in is only a block away
There’s this never ending warmth
That ignites your cold fingers with the heat of something more powerful than a comet
You do miss his chest
Your head-rest and peace
Of mind from this too-loud world
That doesn’t take a moment to hear a heartbeat
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 10:21 PM UTC
Luna pours over the lovers shielding them in her silvery light
Its gentle rays ripple over smooth soft skin
The beauty of the glowing body hypnotizes one to touch and admire its majesty
How love becomes hunger to lovers as they thirst for each other deeply
To explore and discover all sensitive places that are erogenous and special which will bring euphorious bliss
As it synchronizes in link both hearts and mind, senses awakened and heightened growing sharper every time
Relaxing bodies join as one as temptation infects the rational senses with coming together
Enjoy the pleasures only a warm, wet, heat can give and live for a moment in sweet ectasy in a deep and tight body
It'll leave one breathless and completely sated - unless you'll be wanting more
Once loving *** it's an unquenchable fire in the soul - along like refreshing water that'll quench the burning thirst
After the indescribable moment, it consumes much more than passion with lovers sated and aglow
Jan 21, 2017
Jan 21, 2017 at 12:11 AM UTC
Duke said,
“People pray in many different languages
and God hears them all.”
I’m equally a Jew and Muslim,
both living in perfect peace within me.
I’m a little bit Baptist and a little bit Episcopal.
I yearn to swim in the living waters,
and hunger for the cup and bread.
I’m more of a Quaker then a Buddhist.
Only because I’m American and I can’t speak good Chinese yet.
But Buddha’s Lamp is my constant companion,
illumining my every step in this dark world.
I’m also equally composed of east and west Indies
and sometimes even druid.
The Great Spirit and Tantric arts
remain mysteries to me.
I only know them by feeling.
And yes our Afro Heritage.
The drums, the whistle, the dance,
synchronizes our heart beat
to The Beneficent One’s finger taps.
Yes we celebrate The Holy Spirit
with cymbal, voice and drum.
I am a full dues paying member
to the 2nd Hoboken Chapter
of the Unitarian Universal Catholic Church Respectively.
We meet down the block from Sinatra’s Synagogue.
We are all apostles and responsible
for our small spaces that we rent here on earth.
I know I’m 100% Zoroastrian.
I am mesmerized by the fire.
My heart aches for the light.
I tend tiny candles
and listen for the lonely fire
of Coltrane’s sax.
I’m a nun and
a Thelonious Monk.
We run an inn for weary and lost travelers.
We build hospitals to cure the infirm;
and schools to teach the golden rule of love.
We try to do things differently.
Dizzy practiced the Behai faith.
“OOM BOP SHE BAM” I pray.
Music Selection:
Dizzy Gillespie,
Swing Low Sweet Cadillac
jbm
Oakland
12/26/98
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 8:29 AM UTC
I call upon their harmony
They honor me with artistry
The pupils of Apollo's
Lyre resonant inside of me
Calliope adventurous,
Intrepid in her recklessness
Emboldening my will to lead
The unenlightened on this quest
Through Clio's scrolls of history
My oracle clairvoyant
She has graced me with the vision
Of the future sky chatoyant
And a buoyant sea of Euterpe
All floating through the lyricist
That synchronizes all of this
Into a metamorphosis
Evolving as Erato's love
A heart as soft as silk
A dove, tabula rasa thirsting for
The Mother Gaea's milk
To rise from Melpomene
Masks of tragic flaws of Icarus
For I divine the comedies
Thalia simply can't resist
Polyhymnia, Terpsichore
My rarest of expressions
Still reveal themselves in forms
Of spirit guide possessions
When Urania in cosmic bliss
Transports me to the stars
Reborn again to join them
As Mnemosyne's memoirs
Aug 30, 2017
Aug 30, 2017 at 1:11 AM UTC
Tic… toc …Tic… toc… Tic… toc…
The rhythm of my heart’s been established…
As my mind synchronizes to the tempo of my emotions
My Symphony Of Emotion Begins…
Tic… toc …Tic… toc… Tic… toc…
Conducting this masterpiece is cautiously managed
Every belief has a unique impression
My Quartet of Passion Begins To Play
Tic… toc …Tic… toc… Tic… toc…
…The Tempo’s Slowing
Let’s Add a nice kick
Through Devotions Blowing
Tic… toc …Tic… toc… Tic… toc…
To Keep Our Place
The Vocals Of Love
Come Into Play
Tic… toc …Tic… toc… Tic… toc…
Keep the metronome’s Tempo
Move This Melody Forward
Before The tempo of the metronome slows down…
Sep 12, 2009
Sep 12, 2009 at 4:26 PM UTC
*Feeling extremely unloved and worthless
A teenager's life can be difficult, and clueless
Young and restless,
Tall, slender and harebrained
We struggled with untimely feelings
Our heart becomes our mind. And
our mind become weak by older men flattering words
It has been over thirty odd years, and yesterday
for the first time I saw an image of the thief
I felt betrayed and disgusted by the looks of Mr. Thievery
My non forgiving heart kept saying forgive the old weasel
My evil twin whispered: spat on the memories of the womanizers
He died with the memories. But not the lasting,
loving dreams of feeling and emotions
The earthly, scent of the marijuana breathes
Still lingered in my brain: Was I insane?
Haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and rough hands
Against my delicate smooth skin. I spat on that
Our ****** relationship seem more like a crime to remember
Than any I have ever been in: I too spat on that
The years seems so long:
His ****** expression synchronizes with his life
Time clicked away last Thursday for Allie Moore.
R.I.P: brethren!*
He did not know what it meant to love or feel love: Quote Michael
Nov 20, 2016
Nov 20, 2016 at 8:26 AM UTC
While I myself do live myself simply,
I am not simply living for myself.
Living is my most ambitious art-piece to date;
to be the author of my life's story
takes a tedious amount of charging
buffalo stamina & alligator patience.
I'm making sure you've not heard a story like mine
because
countless friends, family, misfits and strangers
have lost the passion for their stories,
instead turning over
*their heartbeat
blood spilled pens
& mind jazz
slamdance typewriters*
to some schmuck to write their story
in a vacuumed & pristine chronologically ordered
paint-by-numbers cookie-cutter drivel.
I live
because
my mother ended
the chapter of her burgeoning artistic career prematurely
thanks to her parents telling her
what can you do with art therapy?
I live
because
there's something about that jazz,
& a candlelight bath.
I live
because
far as I know, my father is learning
lasting relationships of which his charming self
struggled to maintain with an in-absentia momma
that moved around to a new school each year
and father who vamoosed shortly after birth.
I live
because
when the mouth of my love
splits into a smile, her eyes
flash pink lemonade and rosemary bebop
in a way which synchronizes to my heartbeat.
I live
because
clouds, especially at dawn,
soothe and dissolve any anxieties
of the day or weeks or months or whatever.
I live
because
I didn't know the smell of cypress,
let alone cassia or frankincense
until I arrived in Toronto which has me curious
as to what other scents I have yet to experience.
I live
because
I'm not yet finished
laughing.
I live
because
words won't stop wafting and wading
around my being until I swallow then sing
their messages aloud,
on paper,
on a park bench,
in someone's eyes.
I live
because
I live.
I live because,
I live.
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 9:35 AM UTC
I feel your lips on mine,
your fingers down my spine.
I greedly grab you,
and pulls you unimaginary close.
Our breath synchronizes,
like our heart beats,
kicking and kicking.
I start kissing your neck,
a shiver run through your body,
grabbing me,
hugging my curves.
You lift me up,
in your arms.
I am a bird.
I am your bird.
Is this love?
I think it is.
(e.k.j.)
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
We were strangers among the stampeding crowd,
But fate has played us along;
As our heartbeat synchronizes out loud,
Singing the story of a broken song.
Our sun shines in the East,
but never dwindle on the West-
this strange feeling of bliss,
drifting in the chamber of my chest.
Daffodils dance in the scorching daylight,
As the breeze blows gently-
Oblivious to the inevitable flight,
Of an encumbering drizzly night.
Aurora borealis perforates the lone darkness,
Swirling in the starless sky of the North-
The way you eliminated my sadness,
And brings me comfort and madness.
The river cascading in an endless stream,
Splashing a cold brackish water-
These tears of misery and grim,
I will forever endure in my dream.
The moon is high as the tower,
The night as silent as the elm street-
Misery has once again devour,
the little joy turns bittersweet and sour.
I love and love and love unconditionally,
But the pain is searing unbearably;
I looked at the stars and heaven,
And realized we were strangers again.
May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 5:24 AM UTC
Dream a little dream
dream a dream for me my love
and chase away
this night
and my insomnia
Oh, what I'd give
to see you once again
sleeping
ever so softly,
Our breathing synchronizes
as the wind sings our names
and whistles the night away
dream a little dream,
for me, my love
while the night is still young,
and the stars are still dancing.
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 5:19 PM UTC
My dear loved one,
With eyes so gentle and just a kiss,
I feel as if we belong...
It feels like pure bliss,
I listen to your heart frequently
It's beat is so strong,
It's rhythm synchronizes with mine,
Our hearts make a beautiful song,
You are constantly on my mind,
You are my dream come true,
Our love just grows and grows,
Soon it's just going to be me and you,
Starting our story together,
What happens in the future or past,
No one else but us will know.
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 6:22 PM UTC
If a poet falls in love with you,
bear this in mind:
they will find libraries in your smile,
and endless pages within the color of your eyes.
They will spend sleepless nights
searching for better synonyms and metaphors
with which to describe you.
They will carefully choose their words,
turn you into beautiful art,
and write of how the heart
that beats inside your chest
synchronizes perfectly with their own.
Whether you know it or not,
you will be running marathons in their mind,
you will build a house inside their thoughts to live in,
and you will drive poetry out of them
with one miniscule glance.
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 6:16 PM UTC
Who told you that we're strangers?
here me out,
this might sounds crazy
no, actually this is beyond crazy
but we've known each other
in the time before us
we've rely ourselves
leaning on one another
for as long as every pairs are made
like the bee to the honey
like the sun to the earth
inside the galaxy of ghosts
through that blackhole in space
maybe that is why the way
I speak your name rhymes
with the way your heart pulsing
and the moment you call out mine
synchronizes my breathing lungs
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 5:33 AM UTC
Curled up into a ball in the corner of the room,
Surrounded with nothing but bleak walls and the echoes of my breathe,
Staring out from behind the bars as I ignore the flickering light,
Hoping that a moment would come I could finally taste the freedom.
I couldn't remember how I got in this prison,
But the counts of my failed escapes are scarred on my body,
Every whisper is my shout, every tears are my untold wishes,
And every tick of the clock madness is feasting my mind.
Every move I make synchronizes with the sound of my chain,
Reminding me that my steps are counted as the walls around me,
Reaching out the bars, struggling to pass through them,
Yet all my endevours always go in vain.
The ghost of courage remains unseen and unheard,
Eyes on the laughing bars while I'm slowly shrinking,
As every strength fades into oblivion, this place turns into something worse,
For without a single sanity ever survived in a solitary confinement.
I am words left unspoken, unwillingly trapped in this place,
I am ashamed of how will I sound like to their ears,
Will I be accepted? Will I be rejected?
Will I be a curse or a blessing to the world?
I always try to blame others but it's me who trapped myself within these walls,
With no possible escapes I am willing to discover,
Loneliness is hunting me, holding the bow and arrow of despair,
But why? I'm just a voice longing to be heard.
Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 10:39 AM UTC
I think one of my favorite things about dining in restaurants is the background music and how it synchronizes with the sound of silverware clicking against dishes
Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 5:13 PM UTC
**** you for playin' with my mind!
**** you for not letting me sleep!
**** your beautiful viridian eyes that haunt me everyday!
**** your hands that touched my body!
**** your words that touched my soul!
**** your attitude that makes me smile!
**** your lips 'cause they make me go insane!
**** your scent that makes me crawl!
**** your soft hair 'cause it's a good pillow!
**** your arms that hug so well!
**** your breath that synchronizes with mine before we lay asleep!
**** your ideas 'cause they're so **** good!
**** your clothes, 'cause you dress too well!
**** your messages that make me chirp like a ******* bird, in joy!
**** your devilish smile that turns me on!
**** your voice 'cause it's like honey!
**** your jeans 'cause they're too skinny!
**** you because I think you like me!
**** you 'cause you make me feel this way...
**** me 'cause I've let myself fall for you!
But most of all... **** you, 'cause you're not mine and you'll never be.
I'm just a fool... who's in ******* love with you...
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 4:30 AM UTC
A sleepy-eyed, soft cornered state of consciousness exists
before my brain synchronizes with my body’s motor functions,
before my eyes lose the filmy residual images of the distant places inside my head.
It seems so innocent, naïve even, this state,
lit dimly and incongruently by speckles and shafts through shuttered windows.
I love the way light behaves here;
the way it bounces off objects in interesting angles,
or diffuses gradually,
or hunts for hidden corners.
I love the way it highlights the peaks in sheets, but also emanates through them.
Or the way it rolls over arms and elbows,
cheeks and noses,
but leaves other areas steeped in dark shadows.
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 7:49 PM UTC
metallic ticks
on my wrist
making cadence
that synchronizes
to my beating heart.
The watch band
is binding, and
not just there
to keep it secure
but to cover secrets.
my punishment
for consistent failure
is writing lines
chalk isn't what
traces my skin,
but metal razor
bringing blood
out from within.
the "chalkboard"
is my body,
in its entirety.
silver sliver traces
lines and names
over tan soft,
etches scars and
little white li(n)es.
Jun 8, 2017
Jun 8, 2017 at 4:04 PM UTC
Her heartbeat synchronizes with my joys
Her breath aligns with my every stride
In my achievements, she find her purpose
for she has woven her universe within me
Aug 30, 2025
Aug 30, 2025 at 1:16 PM UTC
For a moment, I thought I'd crash.
I actually saw myself falling fast, in my head.
What is hope?
Especially when you've waited for that one thing,
that one person who never gets to walk with you.
I was just left with a step.
A single choice.
To either fall for real, or to rise from all this.
Being human isn't easy.
You are never sure whether you are one breath away from losing it or having it all.
Then, bang! You actually lose it all.
Maybe you were too woman, too extra, sigh!
Didn't give enough,
had fear or --
anything that would make you not feel worthy.
.
What I have learnt through growth is that--
time allows you to to rise above all this--
before it kills you inside.
If you actually give yourself a chance to heal and get it together,
the universe synchronizes in your favor.
Life to life.
Strength to strength.
Jul 15, 2019
Jul 15, 2019 at 9:18 AM UTC
Just pour it out and let it surmise,
like some being with purpose to define.
It's not like it'll change much,
but the expression varies
the personal touch.
It came, it lofts, it synchronizes,
it regrets.
It'll soon be over.
Lights are coming.
They caress, they tighten,
they fool.
The whole is not complete.
It takes itself down,
and insignificance follows.
It's not like it'll let it wallow.
It's just a story after all,
told in different ways.
Over and over again.
There's not much left to say,
but whatever's to be said next.
The perplexities of life's agenda,
always moving forward.
No course.
Just distance.
Forever.
Moving...
Onward
May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 2:21 AM UTC
A sunny day synchronizes with one of a devious path.
A steady tug of war they play.
For no reason comes to mind as to why they combat and unwind.
Ferocious beasts release upon the marking on the cement.
Six feet under goes past faces and 50 feet above spirit goes places.
Motionless
Unbothered.
Completely hazy as to why.
Because when sunny day gets blown away,
the flowered hearts once watered are now dry.
Dominoes each blow plastic smiles and fall asleep for dreary years.
For a day of ferocious beasts, no longer come the tears

Aug 31, 2017
Aug 31, 2017 at 8:51 PM UTC
They came to each other
With a scent of likeness
Dancing in moonlight's brightness
As they kissed away with a love license
Culprits of love blindness
They are affectionate Highnesses
Which are bound by all lessons
Of the significance of togetherness
One thought suffices
And one touch recognizes
The relishing of both synchronizes
In the absence of evil alliances
Only eyes bat
and ears to lean
that both could easily glean
on each other's means
Hugs are for breakfast
Kisses for every meal
strokes for occasional deals
when the feelings get more real
He is the courageous explorer
while she his loyal supporter
As she holds her pen of wander
He becomes her faithful defender
They only are meant for one another
As all things around falter and wither
Only be stronger together
as the times grow better
Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 9:12 AM UTC
To **** a butterfly is
To see something so small
So small like us in a world where
i
Is a place where love blooms
Like a flower in a dark room
He asks us,
Would we trust it?
To paint a butterfly is
To be made of music colors
lyrics in a song where
i
Is the writer
Of a love letter
i
standing for
Idiosyncrasy
Caterpillar crawls
To cross the line-living life in the margin
No more
Love is not just a verb
i find a cocoon
still
Silent in seclusion
still
Until the release
To watch a butterfly is
To be in a moment...in time
Where the world synchronizes
To the flutter of imagination
And poetic justice
Saves the soul
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 12:24 AM UTC