"thins" poems
A phoenix is...
Extended ash, through unending life,
Darkness clouds the happiness of distant days, as eternal life
might be cursed by the flames of hell, yet she is always resurrecting,
Like a spectator, she watches life rise and fall, alike day and night,
Comparable to the smoke which thins it's trail as it travels into the distant sky, yet never truly dying never truly disappearing, living on.
Such is the fate of one who is imperishable, it is alonely existence,
Scared to bond but filled with hope she keeps her head up high,
Because the majestic, azure sky is always a source of hope and bliss,
This makes her fight on, although this battle will never end,
Believing there is a future, in which she someday will rest happily,
Misery and hatred burn up in her flames, which then fall into the darkness of a deep sin which has found its occurance in the long past,
As her body scorches into a blaze of immortality, recurring memories soar, illuminating the land and guiding her through the long night,
Even if all what is lost can be found again, it will perish, transiently.
For now all what is left, is but immortal smoke.
~ Umi
May 6, 2018
May 6, 2018 at 2:18 PM UTC
I could show you such things as you never have seen
But I'd have to go back on my oath
An oath I never made, but which
Stuck with me, the most sacred of things
So sacrosanct that even to say the words of the oath itself
Would be to break it.
Rarely is holiness so raw
Yet when that place is found
When the moon descends
And the water rises
Something shifts: and the veil is slightly lifted
But only slightly, for
Personne ne peut enlever la voile d'Isis
Even if we know how
Especially if we know how
Yet sometimes, gods willing,
It thins itself slightly
But only slightly, and
We catch a glimpse of the way things really are:
The way things could be.
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 11:29 AM UTC
Antimatter mirroring our existance on the pathway of a reverse world
Imagine it, time stands still, halts without a will to continue its flow if it were to possess one to begin with, and everything is but fragile,
Illusionary moon, shine on in this distorted realm in which not even gravity is reliable or even trustworthy at this point, up is down here,
An imperishable night caught under a spell of eternity, uninterrupted
Everlasting, permanently shining, the fake moons appearance is clear,
Unremitting, sweetly told as a if it was a lie, the rumours of this world spread more likely like a disease through the ancient, young earth,
A line parallel drawn to ours, a dimension coexisting without sense,
It appears to be fragile, like a newborn child, the smallest disturbance would mostlikely ruin it's balance, bring tremor upon it wretchedly,
But where that life sparkles as then fades, two dimensions surely would overlap, of course, maybe it will be the world you inhabit, no?
In the realm of the dead, a loitering, lingering darkness thins the borders of reality and illusion, causing them to exist as one, now with the same heart and soul, a fantasy heaven which became reality,
After all, that place is only temporary,one surely could even call it a;
Short living eternity,
~ Umi
Mar 26, 2018
Mar 26, 2018 at 7:57 PM UTC
I
Not once in all our days of poignant love,
Did I a single instant give to thee
My undivided being wholly free.
Not all thy potent passion could remove
The barrier that loomed between to prove
The full supreme surrendering of me.
Oh, I was beaten, helpless utterly
Against the shadow-fact with which I strove.
For when a cruel power forced me to face
The truth which poisoned our illicit wine,
That even I was faithless to my race
Bleeding beneath the iron hand of thine,
Our union seemed a monstrous thing and base!
I was an outcast from thy world and mine.
II
Adventure-seasoned and storm-buffeted,
I shun all signs of anchorage, because
The zest of life exceeds the bound of laws.
New gales of tropic fury round my head
Break lashing me through hours of soulful dread;
But when the terror thins and, spent, withdraws,
Leaving me wondering awhile, I pause--
But soon again the risky ways I tread!
No rigid road for me, no peace, no rest,
While molten elements run through my blood;
And beauty-burning bodies manifest
Their warm, heart-melting motions to be wooed;
And passion boldly rising in my breast,
Like rivers of the Spring, lets loose its flood.
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I feel like an empty coloring book.
Just brought out the store, still in the bag
and I require every single crayon in your 64 pack to be filled in.
Completely.
Yet you could never color me properly, never able to see all of me, I know that all of John’s lyrics were just legends
Cause we would, never have been able to adapt in the environment we were set in.
I promise, we were destined...to fail.
But In this moment, at least try to stay in the lines..
maybe squint your eyes .. take a closer look at how damaged my pages already are.
I never asked you to be neat...
I only advised, that you at least try to stay in the lines.
But really, who am I?...
Giving advice, but never take mine..
Living for the moment, when i should take time
I move fast.. like smooth winds, grooving through the motions but
I…move too fast
And I spread myself too thin.
Like, weak things & wheat thins, we could never break even.
Even when I'm looking for happiness in the same place that I lost it.
If you weren't gonna color in this book then why you got it ?
I refuse to be a coloring book kept in the closet
& I'm tired of being patient, so color me in.
Shades of chivalry is not dead yet
Of you making my cheeks red and
Shades of “is the sky black… or blue at night?”
Of “my love goes on for light years”
& I'll be loyal like Woody, If you'll be my Buzz Light year.
Shades of“did you know that violets aren’t really blue?”
Of confusion.
Color me in shades of understanding, and sympathy.
Rose red.
And violet. Purple. Not blue.
Color me in shades of cliché.
Frame me in calming hues.
Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 10:21 PM UTC
I've got poetic licence
So I can right however I want.
Even if whatever I right doesn't make sense
I kan right with whichever font.
I use my poetic licence in whatever I right
An sometimes, de thins I right does not look write
I have de power power 2 repeat rhymes
Over and over countless of times
I use abbreviations in de mst unusual ways
My, commas, and!!!!!, escalations, marks come!!! as they may!!!!
I've got poetic licence cos I am a poet
I use it in odes, elegys, ballads, epitaphs, and sometimes in sonnets.
I am never rong.
And with my poetic license I will remain strung.
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 3:54 PM UTC
A mirror is never just your reflection,
My mother once said
The mind has this devilish way of
Twisting
Things around
Making then a lot more or a lot less
That what stands before me
Suddenly
My face isn't my face anymore
Instead
I stare blankly at a blueprint
Society itself has hand-sketched
For me.
Post-it's on where things had gone wrong
Scribbles on things I needed less of
Highlighters on places I needed
Brighter brights
Thinner thins
And I just stood there
Watching
As these self-proclaimed architects
Unraveled
The plans they had for a body that wasn't theirs.
Accepting
The new rooms they had drawn next to the ones that already existed,
The ones that were always there
The ones I made a home out of,
The mole on my ear
That never seemed out of place
Until,
The impact of a critical post it told me so.
The place where my thighs met
I've always ignored,
Assuming I was normal
But the scribbles that
Begged
For less of me,
Proved otherwise.
The marks of stretched skin
I considered battle scars over a few calories at a buffet table
Nullified
By society's architects
Disapproved
As if it were up to them
Invalid
Like human came in the form of overruns
But I stare at this blueprint that suggests to change me from
Floor to floor
Head to toe
And wonder
If the one who owns the lot in which I am
Wonder
If He wanted to change me anymore than them
If He liked the original rooms
More than the ones carved to fit the trends
If He wanted me to ignore the architects
And the drafts of copies
And copies
And copies
Of different versions of me
Didn't He want me to accept the mirror for who I am?
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 1:15 PM UTC
Today was grocery day.
I didn't want frozen pizzas or chips.
I wasn't looking for juices or dips.
All I was looking for were crackers, And crackers Is what I got.
Three boxes of Wheat thins.
The family sized Cheeze itz game me grins.
Tons and tons of triscuit crackers.
Gliding across the stores bar code trackers.
But best of all was my glorious box of Chicken in a Biskit.
Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 11:52 PM UTC
Her mesh dress, a canvas, ignited my imagination wild.
A bronzed figure sculpted beyond earthly grace.
Her amazing grace stirred my deepest temptations;
transporting my thoughts to distant realms,
grappling with anchoring my mind in the here and now.
Her lips, potent as a sip.
Her sway, sets my mind adrift.
the spell she casts, magnetic and profound,
No retreat possible once her allure is found.
Entangled in her enchantment, resistance thins—
Once drawn in, the odyssey of passion begins.
Aug 5, 2024
Aug 5, 2024 at 11:49 PM UTC
#
*To inhabit the space within
oneself, to such a degree
that the skin, thins itself out
in order to leave room
for that which is to occupy--
An indwelling
of self, to such a degree
as to stretch the skin
to full capacity..
leaving no room
for ambiguity--
All cells and atoms, within
now fully occupied,
fully inhabited
by the most beautiful
form of indwelling of all--
That, of the self.*
#
Jun 27, 2021
Jun 27, 2021 at 10:43 AM UTC
Oh what is that country
And where can it be,
Not mine own country,
But dearer far to me?
Yet mine own country,
If I one day may see
Its spices and cedars,
Its gold and ivory.
As I lie dreaming
It rises, that land;
There rises before me
Its green golden strand,
With the bowing cedars
And the shining sand;
It sparkles and flashes
Like a shaken brand.
Do angels lean nearer
While I lie and long?
I see their soft plumage
And catch their windy song,
Like the rise of a high tide
Sweeping full and strong;
I mark the outskirts
Of their reverend throng.
Oh what is a king here,
Or what is a boor?
Here all starve together,
All dwarfed and poor;
Here Death's hand knocketh
At door after door,
He thins the dancers
From the festal floor.
Oh what is a handmaid,
Or what is a queen?
All must lie down together
Where the turf is green,
The foulest face hidden,
The fairest not seen;
Gone as if never
They had breathed or been.
Gone from sweet sunshine
Underneath the sod,
Turned from warm flesh and blood
To senseless clod;
Gone as if never
They had toiled or trod,
Gone out of sight of all
Except our God.
Shut into silence
From the accustomed song
Shut into solitude
From all earth's throng,
Run down though swift of foot,
Thrust down though strong;
Life made an end of,
Seemed it short or long.
Life made an end of,
Life but just begun;
Life finished yesterday,
Its last sand run;
Life new-born with the morrow
Fresh as the sun:
While done is done for ever;
Undone, undone.
And if that life is life,
This is but a breath,
The passage of a dream
And the shadow of death;
But a vain shadow
If one considereth;
Vanity of vanities,
As the Preacher saith.
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It is fall again,
that time of year
when the veil
between realms thins,
and the dead rise from
the depths of their graves,
to roam our world,
and torment the living.
It's the time of year,
when children fear,
the monster in the closet,
and the boogeyman
under the bed.
It's the time of year,
when werewolves howl
at the full moon,
deep within the dark woods.
Fall is here,
and with it comes the time
for the dearly departed
to resurrect,
and share the world
with the living.
Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 10:43 PM UTC
Each morning,
When I look into the mirror
I see you in my eyes
Yes true! That's another place
Where you reside.
All I wish to see more
Is to look at you
And your sweet smile.
I promise you that,
Through thick and thins of life.
It'll be me always
By your side
Helping you out to overcome
From your worst dilemmas.
Being your strength, your power
In the darkest scary nights.
Trust me on this.
Be it any of the craziest situations
But I'm going to be there with you.
I want to hear you
As long as you want me to listen.
Putting my best efforts
To be the best version
of your reflections
I am sure when I say that
I'll take the best care of you
Because as happy as you are
means that
I'm happy too.
No....never! I won't stop you
From exploring your heart
How could I?
I'm just the person
who would see you
Getting better as the day passes by.
Those days, when you'll be
Crying, silent or totally *******
Trust me, and then too
You'll find me nearest to you
Wiping out all your worries
And trying to make you smile.
I swear, at your most vulnerable state
I'll make you feel the most loved.
Those moments you'll take
The most important decisions of your life
I'll help you to stay up until the mid-night.
Even…if you ever fail
I'll remind you that
Darling! You are my HERO forever.
Maybe! Someday it happens
when you might forget that
How much you really mean to me
Believe me! Even that day too
I'll tell you and remind you
That I'm in love with you.
Nothing could set me apart
From you,
But the death, as it's powerful
And until I exist
I’ll care for you always
Remember that
You're my dearest friend.
Maybe! In this whole journey
I could not come across you
But then nothing in this world
Could stop me
Flying in love
truly, deeply, madly
With YOU; my hero!!!
©️ Lalima Yadav
Thank you very much for stopping by. Radiate happiness. :)
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 5:04 AM UTC
How important it is
To have a friend
A bestfriend
Someone who won't leave you
No matter what
No matter how hard or complicated thins get
They'd always understand
They'd always be there
Someone who will catch you
When you free fall into the unknown
Someone who will be there to say
"I told you so!"
When you go don't listen to their advice
Someone to laugh with
And more importantly, someone to cry with
Someone who knows you better than yourself
Someone who will know your type of guy
Someone who can smell trouble
Someone who will defend you and will stand up for you
Someone who will stand in front of you and take all the pain in the world just so that you wouldn't get hurt
Someone that is worth keeping and
Someone that is worth fighting for
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 12:47 PM UTC
Stricken with a disease at sea
One antidote can't cure
Fallen
Upon this cold wooden deck
Shivering
As the ship faces strong winds
Knowing my time on earth will end
Barricaded away from the crew
No one will talk for months
After I'm gone
Has my soul been called upon by rough sea?
A light is opening near
Blurring my vision
My breath thins
Gasping
Once lived a transcendental life
But poisoned by seaweed
Slowly falling into a slumped
That will not awaken me
Feb 1, 2010
Feb 1, 2010 at 6:03 AM UTC
#Soaring over the idyllic fields of poet's day dreams
an opening exposes some endless blue
the sun cast's his golden rod
and waits while humming his bright tune
Suddenly submerged
for his bait we had chewed
turbulence drops yellow bags
and white fog blinds our view
The sun is toying with us
letting the line out farther and farther
the old sun and the sky
a departure within a departure
Finally the sun pulls the line
screaming, we steady then ascend
are we going higher now?
better make amends
via amens
Look all the fog is gone
this isn't the suns pole
the light is fleeing and
this cabinet grows so cold
The air thins into non existence
yet somehow we can breath
in these celestial waters
watch as the earth takes her leave
Reeling faster now
how these stars pass by
what's beyond the celestial sphere
this fisherman sure is spry
Finally a golden gleam approaches
splash through the pearly gates
into the net of heaven
pietistic fingers embrace
An omniscient voice speaks
NOT AGAIN, ANOTHER USELESS CAN?
and he tossed this metal heap away
who do I eat and who do I romance
It's going to be a long journey home.
#
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 2:54 PM UTC
As the air thins you are called to memory
I am as yet
Unsure of what relationship exists
Between the flitting nimbus and velocity
And me
Perhaps the times I fell away from the earth
Skirting through layers of atmosphere
Between the curvature of horizons
And a past sunset far behind me
I left traces of longing In contrails
I left vapour trails of emotion in the sky
Understandably you are filtered from my gravity restricted musings
With feet on Terra Firma; no contrail exists
Only here with vermillion slashing the clouds
Carving a wake through air so fast sounds can’t catch me
Do I remember how I howled
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 1:10 PM UTC
I never mastered the grind.
That won every girls affection.
I guess it's really quite difficult.
When you become your own deflection.
Once I was that nineteen year old.
Drunk and disorderly.
Grinding on your back.
You got bored of me.
Sure its fun - for both it seems.
Sometimes it's a horrid match.
A silly game with an undefined winner.
Sometimes it's all you need to land your catch.
But as you grow you see things clearly.
The smoke machined air thins and the lights begin to brighten.
You see the complexity of your dilemma.
You've assumed you'd get it all - what a great big error.
You want the beauty you've desired night long.
But you've gone about it all wrong.
You want the companion most never find.
But will she see it or remain blind.
It seems one is possible.
Where do I go to be one whole person?
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 1:16 PM UTC
concrete shades the yellow-lighted symphony.
The peso-heavy take taxis;
security valets motors steaming castle gates.
I ask, which way is the 158?
Indifferent, they say, walk straight neath the freeway —
there is a bus stop two blocks away.
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****
****
Clocktower hands transpose Cindarella-brick
to embers of electricity,
a factory aside scrawled graffiti;
fingers timidly ricket pitchfork fences.
Palermo is 11 km north.
Where is the north star?
I look straight ahead, repeating what
the travel blogs said like,
Be lost, don’t look lost;
flappy plastic maps scream vulnerability.
Be lost, not rich;
iPhones in gotham alleys are batman signals.
Walk fast.
Don’t pay attention to the eyes that pass.
Careless ponytails and brass hair attract
glances back.
Two blocks deep into the homeless shelter
beneath freeways, blankets
in shopping carts toppled over,
cars screaming away the symphony
into shadowed silence between heels striking.
Tunnel breath emerging on the other side,
gasping past stacked Jenga towers,
wired with antennas and empty clotheslines;
families and crack ****** sleep inside.
Safety’s herd thins as couples dart left down
cobblestone tributaries
that either lead to bus stops or parked cars.
I walk straight ahead with
sleeve-covered hands that swing like sticks
in the wind.
The symphony turns to
heartbeats and footsteps
plucking quickly;
fearing the 180 behind,
to zombies with sunken eyes,
thirsty for a thirty-cent high.
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 8:45 PM UTC
You will be surprised at how well I improvise, between your lips and mine, I got it covered and I hope you don't mind. Us taking the time out, to cross signals, where ever we minds. This present, is our past time, making thins come together, one last time. Never say never, but not this time. The eyes never tell lies;mesmerized look in your eyes, after you taste our surprise. It's only a matter of time, before what's yours, is mine; our lips collide, my tongue slide, inside; side-to-side. Licking your lips, slick, they glide. I'm outlining yours with mine, tracing your smile. Your tongue, teasing, taking our sweet time. I, kept my eyes, open, hoping, we could see eye-to-eye, but your eyes were closed- finally got it right this time.
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 11:35 PM UTC
We gathered our water
and packs at daybreak
to hike hand in hand
toward the distant ruin—
a tall stone chimney planted
on otherwise empty acreage,
a kudzu-covered tower,
the ghost of a farmhouse
now a home to field mice,
black beetles and bats,
with bricks the color
of weathered blood,
vertebrae stacked
a century and a half ago
by a stonemason’s craft,
still solid and bonded
despite the slow decay
of arthritic mortar.
How long have we
walked together?
The morning
is all we have
left to ponder.
We walk for hours;
the chimney grows
larger at our approach.
I want to ask you
a question about
the night we met,
what you said
just before I held
you for the first time,
but then I catch sight
of my hand and realize
I am walking alone,
moving inexorably
toward a ruination
of my own making.
How could I have been
so careless? Unable
to stop, every step
strips something away:
my hair thins and falls,
as white and weak
as sickled wiregrass;
another step and my
body atomizes into
the stuff of stars,
pollen scattered
on a rising wind.
So this is what it
feels like to decay.
By the time I reach
the ruin I am mostly
cinder and ash,
a sorry vestige
sown in a quiet field,
a forgotten landmark
that strangers will visit,
if only to contemplate
how the evening fog
spindles like smoke
along the enduring
column of my spine.
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 4:30 PM UTC
The air has begun to adopt that
damp and coppery hint of decay,
every breath a syrupy drop of autumn.
Each morning
the chorus of birds that greet the rising sun thins,
its members gradually cashing in on their accrued vacation time
and jetting off to winter homes in Florida.
Tourists.
All birds are tourists.
They won't be here to see the snow
turn to viscera under the tread of our lesser travels.
No,
they'll be tanning by gated watering holes,
discussing the downward trend in early worm returns.
Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 9:52 AM UTC
Eyes meet
A smile follows
One step, then another
Repeat, until face to face
Words flow
Into sentences
Which pour out into conversation
Time passes
The crowd thins
Time to leave,
Time to part.
An embrace,
Then farewell.
Then...farewell.
Jul 18, 2012
Jul 18, 2012 at 5:57 PM UTC
to feel the sun kiss my shoulders,
and to throw my head back when i cry;
to take the band from my wrist
and let you fill me with flowers.
to know I tried my hardest and
to know that it was good enough;
to smell the dirt and feel the trees,
to be moved by Life herself.
to feel the sand underneath my fingernails,
to hear a song and travel the world
on it’s melody; I’d only feel harmonious
with you on my side.
the world became possible
and the fog thins as I stare Death
right in the face; I’m not afraid.
you’re beside me holding
my hand.
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 11:05 PM UTC