"terrains" poems
*Two love adventurers
Welcome the night
Many curves to explore
Trace the unknown haven
Clues spelled out with soft sighs
Finding each other’s comfort
Soul’s feel the warmth to the core
It’s an inseparable embrace
Sending shivers down every nerve
Finally to love adventurers
Exploiting the lovely terrains
Reach the peak of contentment
Now they lay exhausted
After a satisfying adventure*
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 11:32 PM UTC
we hail from synonyms
replicate those isles of dirt
jagged colossal terrains of earth
which sprouts to scrape
the wisps of pearly clouds
where marble and stone
splintered scorches of gnarled bark
where the soft paws of preying lions
roam within the sea of swaying golden grass
where each stroke of a feathered wing
flourishes the air with its mighty swing
and the threshold of mysterious beings
idle in mischief of deep blue seas
and those salty shores
swallow the iron hulk of ships
and ferocious savages of nature's call
groaning in mourn for her body
her crevasses and pools of spilling
crystal cerulean water
where the malachite moss
sits in stone of endless time
and trees groomed of wind and sun
prideful beneath the drink of the setting morrow
she yearns for the claim of her shape
for the purity of her waters like blood
her parched throat of sandy desert lands
amputated into wells of gorging oil
she suffocates from her very existence
a poison to herself
and as the days wan to a fast massacre
to her own suicidal mission
to feed our negligence
we label:
humanity
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 7:14 PM UTC
*rocks don't care
all stubble and stones
a difficult geometry
so if they don't fit
they are hammered
and
crushed to rubble
jammed together to make virile walls
and if stabbed with swords
care not about
torn bellies and broken necks
soaking them crimson rust
or drowned nautilus
beneath the sea
humans
have futility in common with rocks
except that everything
girds and gnaws
at their belligerent sensitivity
all clouded soft towers
bi-pedal mortal spires
with tender flesh
beaten into place
lacerated
truncated amputees
to fit the outer life
of status and statues
a scandal to the inner coves of self
I'm envious of rocks
except for moments of
shifting watery kisses
clamorous for love
we remain
disfigured terrains
hunters of souls balmy unguents
while
fluctious immolating moons
unravel
in a hidden grieving
oh countenance of apathy
only to be more like you
a wilderness of stumps
and
dead rock gods
and our aspiration
indifference
our exit
the path of the renunciate
a penitence
feasting only on futility
and the vagaries of spirit*
Nov 21, 2017
Nov 21, 2017 at 2:36 PM UTC
So many chiefers and not enough Indians
There Yosef go with that ******** again fools can't comprehend
Cuz them weeds they choppin' put all thoughts to end
So come again like ya repeating the same thang
Ghetto Twain rhymes like boomerang leavin' welts on the back of the membrane
My topics ain't meant for population
So if you don't like change the **** station
So fools keep on puffin' and I'm.keep on stuffin'
My minds with nothing knowledge I learned nothing college
But to party and ******** shut and take a hit
Let the dogia explore your deepest mind terrains
Got ya hooked like a crane invoking much pain
Time is suffering people offering up sacrifices
And claiming they just being nice for the right price
They'll sell out they soul for few ounces of gold
So you see what's happening blasting like rocket
Coming for pockets of fake prophets once I'm set I'm a raging bull so ain't no stopppin' it
Then next thing ya know I stare at the floor and the window
My third eyes enlighten
Thinking to myself I gotta go
but I got buzz contact off that fake indo...
Shaking my head looking at these young studs
Laughing at em smokin'them fake budds
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 4:41 PM UTC
Hold my hand
And lead me through
Traverse this land
Together we two.
Over unknown terrains
Under weeping skies
Through unforgiving plains
Through pain and lies.
Between grieving mountains
And screaming valleys
Feeding fevered delusions
Fraught with delays and tarries.
Beyond the hills and knolls
Hopeful of salvation
Surviving pits and falls
Not knowing the destination.
My hand still in yours
An arduous odyssey
Must stay the course
Must complete this journey.
Bright skies up ahead
Or so they promise
Soon shall pass they said
Soon will come release.
Still in this; still walking
Not soon expecting the end
Still in this; still trudging
Round this obscured treacherous bend.
Doubtful mad endeavour
I dragged you with me
When this finally is over
We'll look back and see.
Glad that we were together
Glad that together we came
Never cease from being near
Keep holding my hand, just the same.
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 8:28 AM UTC
Ragged mountains and rough terrains,
Withstanding storms and heavy rains.
Warm rays of sunshine bring light.
Bearing hues of black and white.
To the touch it feels like a freshly mowed lawn.
A promise of tummy tickling at dawn.
A relaxing walk in an uninhabited forest.
A tempestuous hike to the top of Everest.
You could be a renegade or a mad scientist
An investment banker or electric guitarist.
A biker's beard could be just as immaculate.
Rough as sandpaper or soft as velvet.
May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 8:00 AM UTC
going to the horror films
at ten years old
i wanted to be bitten by the vampire ladies
you know the ones
red brides from the netherworlds
with heaving *******
divinities of evil
with that dah look
in silky white gowns
a little messy from sleeping in the dirt
culture vulture goth girls
with upside down crosses
slags all gauzy bats in the belfry
deranged
but after all they where
dead
and dreadfully appealing
and I'm pretty fussy
so what the hell
they walked like floats
in marshy air
never touching the ground
above frozen dark crypt terrains
with twinkly bare feet
and black high glossed toenails
staring out of blood spilled eyes
drooling cloudy mouth hollows
and a yearning hungry countenance
encouraging me
to get closer
to bite me all over
pierce me
with needly fangs
puncturing little holes in tender me
making me leak like bad plumbing
until i sloped into the bog below
of course, i was panicked
all trembly
but i had a big one
for these evil shadowy ******* too
so i thought
yes
no
yes
no
yes
no
are you gonna **** me?
i asked
they drooled
ooow okay, i thought is it gonna hurt?
they shook there heads yes!
and drooled
real bad?
i inquired further
ah ha
they lingered glaring
drooling
i guess, waiting for me to make up my mind
oh okay anything for you
you dark dreamy girls
dilapidated queens of hell
with ballet derrières
"down and down I go
round and round I go
in a spin, lovin' the spin I'm in
under the old black magic called love"
after all at ten years old,
i already knew i was
a horror *****
and just a little turned on
Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 11:58 AM UTC
***The mountains raise their heads
To look up to the sky
Looking to kiss the eternity
Searching for the soft caress of clouds
And soothe the upheaval it went through
First drop of rains anoint the rugged surface
The sequestered waterfall cascades down
And adorns the mountainous terrains
Covering it with the soft velvety green
Enthusing life into the once lifeless rocks
Once among the rubble
The mountains have found their place of glory***
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 10:32 AM UTC
With each new holiday,
we are told to purchase,
fake plastic memories
for a fake plastic purpose.
Fake Plastic trees
for Christmas to usher.
Fake Plastic hearts
for Valentine's lovers.
Fake Plastic wreaths
for a New Year’s front door.
Fake Plastic pumpkins
for Halloween decor.
For Easter we have
fake plastic eggs
and fake plastic grass
fake plastic time, for us to pass.
Now we have plastic oceans
and plastic rain.
plastic forests
and plastic terrains.
Plastic is what the fish and whales feast on.
Plastic is what we base our economy on.
Plastic plates with plastic silverware,
Plastic here, plastic everywhere.
A fake plastic earth will be forming soon.
With a fake plastic sun and fake plastic moon
Oct 20, 2020
Oct 20, 2020 at 1:19 PM UTC
every starry night i will be embraced in your arms around
your heartbeat my sweet dream sound
your warmth my fireplace
and your smile be my respite breeze
in summer days
your hands in mine intertwined
in distress and in ease
staying around or walking apart
the love shall remain untainted
like a pearl inside the oyster shell's heart
forever protected by the waves
it stays it stays
it will forever be that way
even when you're gone far southern trails
and i'm still at northern terrains
separated by cliffs and mountains
still be linked by roads and rails
and airplanes
i'll send you sweet dreams by the fireflies
and little pink hearts from the cyber space lanes
know that i always wish you well
and the love forever stays inside
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 5:41 PM UTC
This cosmos, indisputably, a sheer wonder
We cannot but bow before its grandeur
To what strange terrains opens its doors
And what secrets, hidden beneath the stars
From the merciless emptiness sans light,
From the deep silence of the horrendous night,
Was heard the bang of hammers
On the anvils of eons like thundering fire crackers
Abruptly through a gas cloud burst of inexorable force
Life emerged from stardust, our energy source
This is what the exponents of Big Bang assert
Life, from cosmic egg was hatched, some others purport
No doubt, this universe is an infinite stretch of lattice
Woven in the loom through billions of years by gratis
Where myriad wonders exist in the intergalactic space
And man has been on relentless effort to trace their course
As the wheels turned and as the fires burned
Through cosmic vapor the first atom was churned
How, over the eons, life here has flourished
With man’s wisdom and efforts nourished!
Galaxies are scattered in infinite space
And our planet Earth is well balanced in place
After the day’s vigil, when the mighty sun sets
The stars invariably take over on their night shifts
Multitudinous stars glitter and twinkle, a wondrous sight
As branching chandeliers, shedding luminous light
They are gems donning the night sky with their splendor
Where meteors dash and star light dances in nebulous glare
Some extra terrestrial hand has set the Earth in tune
And everything needed to hold life is benevolently strewn
Through countless dawns and sunset
Endless generations did come and beget
Just as this universe was born, it would one day die
With all the planets, stars and starlets of the sky
Who can predict how it is going to end
With a bang or whimper, or is the end impend?
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 3:44 AM UTC
N*ights are awakening
into the deep sleep.
Terrains keep changing
we need little more time
of the slumber
for the enlightenment*.
Oct 12, 2020
Oct 12, 2020 at 3:44 PM UTC
it is done differently - more is not necessary - more of this -
is too much;
the kissing is an exploration - to a polar destination of
virtual whiteness -
to discover more than this. the kissing is not an end in and of itself - but a fjord unexplored leading to what? yes there are many different kinds of kisses - adaptations to a changing terrain - but the face, the face, the face (not just the lips),
the head entire -
is the first battle in a world war where the
opponents strengths and weakness are
literally uncovered and shape the nature of the war of the worlds
yet to come.
more than kissing, it is a speech and an interrogation;
an ********** revelation
of fine lines and small scars, a writing of a history, a history that existed unbeknownst to the explorer and thus interesting and dangerous - a history composed in a different time and place and almost in a vacuum - for kissing is impactful - outlines of footsteps on never before trodden lanes - but who prepared these paths in advance of my arrival, and was my arrival forecast or just imagined?
first time kissing oft portrayed as excited glee - but this is a grievous error - a wild display of wasted resources - it is not to meant to be pesky single shots of damp I was here where next? it is a drawing, nay, a sculpting of map to be reproduced in limited quantity for only the map rooms of the greatest museums.
each individual kiss is more than an act, but a marker
connecting the previous
to the future next -
exactly a map drawn by an explorer - meant to be shared with others who love history, discovery and women creatures.
be wary of unmarked crevasses and pools where
no one has measured the depth -
novice sailors without proper charts upon unfamiliar faces -
too oft drown or are somehow sail as lost forever.
but the notion of being the first, even if you are not the first,
is so intoxicating
for the brainstorming it provokes - the envisioning of
more than kissing but of unlocking
a new nature, creating a creation born in the intersection of two waters - where fresh waters joint the brine of the ocean -
and there are untold different kinds of waters and no two terrains though similar - are ever exactly the same.
here does my entry in my log - my journal - end - though the notation of than
is comparative and therefore unending.
Jun 22, 2019
Jun 22, 2019 at 9:46 AM UTC
----
Sometimes they take over
The rhythms in your head
Nuances of rhyme schemes
The lines your muse has fed
You want to use a smaller word
Pontificate instead
It gallops through your consciousness
A wild horse - unlead!
The hooves go on like thunder
Upon the steed you ride
Tearing up the page
Pen in hand - astride
You are without a bridle
Legs grip the mustang's side
He has his own way
He is a beast with pride!
No - he has no stable
No - his blood flows wild!
Fed grass of the planes
He's restless as a child
A stallion - yes! A bucking bronc!
Unbroken - never mild!
Get into his rhetoric
He's always getting riled!
Write like you're a MUSTANG!
RIDE ON!!! You have no reins!
Get into his rhythm
The rhyme scheme is unstrained
Your footing is unsure
In uncertain terrains
Playing echo chamber music
Those cacophonous refrains
Bust that bronc!!! He's waiting -
Your own head unrestrained!!!
SoulSurvivor
(C) 5/19/2015
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 4:41 PM UTC
Become medieval when the rain starts –
put coins in my corset, they are pure gold & evil
and show the men using my Thanatos drive:
I could not care if they want me,
I could not care if they hated me alive.
Rather the leaf upon dress-breasts much as
a muzzle, came from a box of cardboard slits
opening like lady-legs. I bribe the thrash with my
whispers & wheels, promise to soak up sky’s tears
but she certainly prefers the black ash haul.
I bring myself to the top of a volcano, its arc,
convinced that it cannot soot me,
not in the rain: such scorch is unreachable.
There is this protruding spiral in the center,
going dark, a pupil. It eats my hair-ribbon and I
sweat, but I am upon all terrains of the Earth
prepared to fall into a clutch, the gold stain my skin
before peeling by storms, how plague-like I seem.
Could be on my back when it implodes –
though my skirt would not appreciate the mess,
I think the idea fine. I am already pink, red’s better.
Wires and flushed cheeks will be what they find,
the men, knowing that I could not care.
And I did not; it was not less than a shot of
lightning stuck under a petticoat, frilled for nobody
but the volcano who turns ********* to embers.
the rain that beasts eyelashes to amputees.
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 12:43 PM UTC
Enlighten and empower
Continue to climb the ladder of success
Move forward and progress
Then you will be truly blessed
The road is a tough one
Challenges you will face
Rise above those treacherous terrains
And make your case
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 2:17 PM UTC
braving the tempest
hope plunges on; horizon guides;
their lighthouse signals dawn
--------------------------------------------------------------------
your compass guides
across uncharted terrains;
your light leads the way.
Sep 5, 2019
Sep 5, 2019 at 11:02 AM UTC
Trust is like the clear waterfall
Flowing down difficult terrains
To make them hospitable and fertile
Its origin is from the heart
That is tranquil and full of love
Filling every crevice
Of the parched grounds
With conviction to soften more hearts
Touch the magic waters
Bathe yourself in the flowing beauty
And trust shall have you transformed
Love to trust
And trust to Love
Hold the magic water in the crucible
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 11:19 PM UTC
Here hails a huge, long and dragonish snake,
With myriads of dangerous heads on its thorax,
Roaming up and down in a nefarious duty
All over the African streets and hamlets,
Villages and terrains, the abodes of poor folks,
Swallowing daughters and sons of this land,
Swallowing a handful of them on each bite,
They are in a forlorn despair like never before,
Defenselessly succumbing to the dragon once in the grip,
Young and old, prebubescent and all others are cancers’ fodder,
Africa is truly diminishing to the abysmal jaws of cancer,
Forget of initial vices of *** Ebola and leprosy,
Forget of the contemporary terrorism and ethnic warlordism,
Cancer is ruthlessly swallowing poor folks of Africa
Into its inferno of early deaths, rendering many parentless,
A knot for the living to put aside pride and seek genuine help,
For the myriad heads of dragonish cancer violently **** the prey,
I have seen sons and daughters of poor Africa in cancerous agony,
Often with a blocked food pipe when in the grip of throat cancer,
Non-stop vaginal bleeding at mercilessness of cervical cancer,
In the torture of brute pulling weight in grip of scrotal cancer,
On the top of maximum pain in the grip of breast cancer
Humorously desperate before menacing eyes of death,
When misfortunately in the grip of heart cancer,
Deathly starvation condemns many poor folks to grave,
Always when in the unlucky tentacle of intestinal cancer,
In this desperate land of Africa where basic hospital
Stands a luxury, affordable by the rich in the political class,
As the poor without choice die and die and die,
O who will take me out of Africa, this nonchalant Africa?
Before the dragon of cancer condemns me down to its
Inferno of pains and miserably violent death!
I fear death due to punctured lungs without solace,
I fear death due to stunted blood cells without succor
I fear death due to poisoned blood without palliative
When the cancerous heads of ; lung cancer, blood cancer,
And Liver cancer will besiege this land of Africa to hold me a captive.
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 5:42 AM UTC
Epicentre of destruction, now Nepal
Chosen by destiny, very brutally
Terrains blew, and maps deformed
Lives lost, people slayed by almighty Lord
Not one, two, or three, plenty of them
Shot one after another, from below
Shaking and trembling, structures fall
Amassed devastation, no one can stop
In a time of need like this, for humanity
To help and console, Nepal community
Every soul prays for them
May all those are lost, rest in peace, Amen
|AB|
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 10:32 AM UTC
What is your greatest fear?
Do you worry about the past
The present, the future?
Do yesterdays woes play on your mind?
Or the worries of tomorrow?
How about the angsts of today?
What is your greatest fear?
Does money concern you?
Do you envision that a lack of material wealth will make you a lesser person?
Or that you won't be able to provide
For your mother, wife or children?
What is your greatest fear?
Do you fear great adventure?
From missions across treacherous terrains,
To learning something new.
Or maybe the unknown?
Does a non-existent threat debilitate and paralyse you?
What is your greatest fear?
I would say mine own is the fading of a great ability
To make words dance across a page as if they possess a life of their own
To link together phrases, to bring life to seemingly dreary monologues
To paint pictures with nouns and adjectives
Record films with verbs and adverbs
This is a gift I have been blessed with
Yet
I am scared
For I do not know when my time will come
And this pushes me
But until then?
I shall do what I know best
I shall write, query and ponder all the great questions life has for us
So I ask you
What is your greatest fear?
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 8:40 PM UTC
Don't fall in too deep
I always tell my self
not to fall in too deep. For you
the world is an open pit where
Love is but a word used loosely
I've always tried to tread lightly.
I've memorised maps and terrains.
I know, however, it is inevitable
not to fall. For you
look down at me from a bridge
made out of cobwebs of the past
and promises of the future.
I look up to where you are
and imagine being there.
Not falling too deep.
I want to reach you.
Inch my way to reach you.
We can go to places. Pass time. Be safe. Or
talk to you about jumping.
Leave the world in awe.
Jump with me.
To this crevice.
Fall with me. Fall with me
completely.
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 9:16 AM UTC
The circuitous and arduous roads
Slithers over the difficult terrains
Slimy and slipping away from reality
Through the tapestry of agony
Bruised souls pay with dripping blood
In deepest burrows hibernates the truth
Weary and defeated travelers move along
Only the one who bends but do not break
Shall redeem truth from the caverns
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 6:29 AM UTC
I’m a shy yet outgoing introvert.
When it comes to getting attention, I will divert
I love to give love and try not to hurt
I sometimes feel **** and will attempt to flirt
When you talk religion and spirituality,
please keep all of those labels away from me
Because I will whisper into the wind and through the trees
as God’s omnipresence is surrounding me
Being in nature invigorates and inspires me
Viewing wildlife and feeling the cool country breeze
The happy return of the flowers and the bees
Love new beginnings and feeling free
Adventure and travel runs through my veins
By land, sky, and sea, I love all terrains
Trying new things and experimenting keeps me sane
Listening to all genres of music feeds my brain
Bronx born and Detroit raised, I thrive on diversity
Learning about culture, the arts, and our history
are my life’s passions and bring inner harmony
Oh well, that is enough about me . . .
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 1:23 PM UTC
The vibrancy of youth now succumbs to the anaesthetic of indifference, like testicular feminisation of the masses.
I often contemplate the indifference of cacti in Arizona, where handle-bar moustaches curl with the worldly-wisdom of motorcycle gangs.
So, strip meat from the perimeter of the wishbone and feel the waves of nocturnal celebrations, as we slide into a deep winter slumber.
You will waken from a crisis of identity and be emancipated from stereotypical cavities where thorny plantations thrive amidst unforgiving terrains.
Snap it in half, and you will see mystical Arabian genie’s arise from magical carpets.
Oh, one more thing: I am not a detective.
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 10:59 PM UTC