"throe" poems
135
Water, is taught by thirst.
Land—by the Oceans passed.
Transport—by throe—
Peace—by its battles told—
Love, by Memorial Mold—
Birds, by the Snow.
21.8k
•
I've known an extraordinary lady,
'Cause I wrote poems in HP,
Well, I thank HP a lot,
That I have the opportunity,
To know a person like her!
And found out we have the same nationality,
Not only that, she write these exceptional and amazing poems!!
I was overwhelmed!
And blithesomely chatted her,
She replied,
We have a good talk,
I was so broken into splinters those times,
I could hardly remember the throe,
But her words glare brightest in my heart,
She inspired me,
With the hurting truth,
Well, I knew truth hurts,
Then we always chat,
We exchange phone numbers,
And texting even not in HP,
'Cause I knew she is so much busy,
But I'm still texting her telling,
"I'M SO GLAD TO BE Your FRIEND."
And that,
"Ohayou Gozaimasu, konnichiwa & konnbanwa"
"Kiotsukete kudasai Roan-chan!"
Oh yeah!
We love Japan, and their language,
That made me love her even more.
(Love as friend okay?!)
We exchange google+ & fb,
And saw her angelic face,
Scattering over her timeline,
I saw a beautiful soul,
Dancing and gleaming inside of her,
She's indeed a very good friend,
When I have heartaches and tribulations,
I share her my pain and sorrows,
She's like the sun in the noon time,
Heating me up with her love and care,
But even though I have not met her personally,
I knew for sure that I'm so much blessed,
To know such a golden spirit,
Such rare being in the amidst,
And I do knew,
That God will lead us together,
To spend time personally as friends,
Together with Ma'am Sally,
As what she told me,
"We should have this ~poetess date~ "
How I long for that day!
I really pray to God,
*That He will give you,
The best of the life,*
*Give you good health,
To continue enjoying life to it's fullest,*
*To have many more birthdays to come,
For you to see more,
Of the beauty of God's creation,*
*And to find,
That very right man,
That your heart longs to find,
For quiet elongated time.*
*I pray also,
That you will remain,
To be light to all people,*
*And be that very good friend,
Everyone longs for,*
In this beautiful day,
I pray you will be the happiest person alive,
And celebrate this marvelous day,
God had given you.
"Maligayang Kaarawan Aking Kaibigan."
© Earl Jane
♥ E.J.C.S.
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 7:44 PM UTC
1413
Sweet Skepticism of the Heart—
That knows—and does not know—
And tosses like a Fleet of Balm—
Affronted by the snow—
Invites and then retards the Truth
Lest Certainty be sere
Compared with the delicious throe
Of transport thrilled with Fear—
6.3k
PROMETHEUS (alone)
O holy Aether, and swift-winged Winds,
And River-wells, and laughter innumerous
Of yon Sea-waves! Earth, mother of us all,
And all-viewing cyclic Sun, I cry on you,--
Behold me a god, what I endure from gods!
Behold, with throe on throe,
How, wasted by this woe,
I wrestle down the myriad years of Time!
Behold, how fast around me
The new King of the happy ones sublime
Has flung the chain he forged, has shamed and bound me!
Woe, woe! to-day's woe and the coming morrow's
I cover with one groan. And where is found me
A limit to these sorrows?
And yet what word do I say? I have foreknown
Clearly all things that should be; nothing done
Comes sudden to my soul--and I must bear
What is ordained with patience, being aware
Necessity doth front the universe
With an invincible gesture. Yet this curse
Which strikes me now, I find it hard to brave
In silence or in speech. Because I gave
Honor to mortals, I have yoked my soul
To this compelling fate. Because I stole
The secret fount of fire, whose bubbles went
Over the ferrule's brim, and manward sent
Art's mighty means and perfect rudiment,
That sin I expiate in this agony,
Hung here in fetters, 'neath the blanching sky.
Ah, ah me! what a sound,
What a fragrance sweeps up from a pinion unseen
Of a god, or a mortal, or nature between,
Sweeping up to this rock where the earth has her bound,
To have sight of my pangs, or some guerdon obtain--
Lo, a god in the anguish, a god in the chain!
The god Zeus hateth sore,
And his gods hate again,
As many as tread on his glorified floor,
Because I loved mortals too much evermore.
Alas me! what a murmur and motion I hear,
As of birds flying near!
And the air undersings
The light stroke of their wings--
And all life that approaches I wait for in fear.
5.5k
Marooned
Vapid beauty of this room
Frothing carpet, ocean blue
One wall me, the other you
What lies between is residue
Scribed on soggy, shipwrecked parchment
Questions asked, time forgotten
Who are we?
What do we know?
Into these questions Summer flows
And thrashes at your Autumn’s brinks
Yearlong they torment my brain
Infringing on every season
If not for the manic scheme
To love and having loved be loved
This correspondence to a distant land
With stars, more numerous and brightly lit
Than my burgeoning highway exit
Would by no means have left my hand
But if, against all odds, it will prevail
Extolling truth’s folly, my sorrowful tale
Quells with reason my groundless pride
At having docked on your passionless harbor
Unloading platonic cargo during our youth’s ebbing tide
Must not create union of body or mind
You swallow my horizon, like the sun twilight
Though, one need not chase that orange orb for tomorrow
In this night without fortitude, lewd humor consumes me
Singing with the mouth on my head and your voice inside
I plunge into darkness
Skimming its silky surface
Before zipping it behind me
Shall I drown, as I have lived?
In vain, my dreams your subjects
Taken for ransom in your heart’s Tripoli
Not surmising recompense, I forfeit this
A note belying resonance
Of my heart’s last echoed throe
One desperate effort, giving up
Feed every vestige to the void
Wading, torso encumbered
Each sullen relic of your memory
Falls to the deep’s frigid ebony
Then, only too late am I cognizant
That my own breath is tribute yet spent
Therefore if I were to float or swim
I’d give you every ounce of who I am
Convince you to relinquish me
From your tepid, spurning sea
Then lying beneath moist underbrush
Slowly, breathe no more
Aug 9, 2010
Aug 9, 2010 at 4:24 PM UTC
1330
Without a smile—Without a Throe
A Summer’s soft Assemblies go
To their entrancing end
Unknown—for all the times we met—
Estranged, however intimate—
What a dissembling Friend—
3.8k
•
If you are a tree,
Bombarded by extreme winds,
In the amidst of a typhoon,
*I'll sacrifice to be your roots,
To diminish your agony,*
OH, I cannot manage seeing you suffer!
*In carrying on in a big tragedy,
With utmost throe alone ,*
*Let me be torn and broken into fragments,
And be cut in combating and holding for you,*
That's how much I love and care,
I wish you only knew...
© Earl Jane
♥ E.J.C.S.
Jul 17, 2015
Jul 17, 2015 at 11:09 AM UTC
241
I like a look of Agony,
Because I know it’s true—
Men do not sham Convulsion,
Nor simulate, a Throe—
The Eyes glaze once—and that is Death—
Impossible to feign
The Beads upon the Forehead
By homely Anguish strung.
3.2k
Fickle
Done in mentioned light...
Through and due the common, the still
Notice of compliment, a comment of right
None
The more we save, from the proof of simplicity
Story's and a sulking tree, the seldom of fun in the sun
Turned to universality, with the eyes of anarchy
Amend
Sour and refined, refrain from the beauty of compel?
The pout of another gift and the choice of feeling's substance
Over the quiet since, that has become ours to weal...
Things
And the duty of a desire in worthing heaven, the hell of unity
Given me, and the role of synchronicity a resolve, to sweeten
Time is a daring host, to assure even the tiniest of needs, vicinity
Arduous
Threshold in the lime, the boding of every else, in the book
Staid and remembering decorum, like a hell is every cause
When we are the understanding home, to a willing look...
Force
Are we a stir of responsibility in the arms of voice, or its cope?
Timid as we are, the calling of it all, is a wisdom's source?
Look hard for a nature? when you can have a friend for it's love...
Caring
True to mellower stares, the throe of uncanny light
Made from the none, are we to survive a decision, so faring
The response of decency, that a swim with the devil, is also right...
Liberty
Loan the call, to me for a universe's song
Trust is a walking might of the deed, asking the seldom, evil's
Is it me, or the shade in a wishes stir, the tout we held all along?
Oct 10, 2022
Oct 10, 2022 at 4:45 PM UTC
‘Whenever I plunge my arm, like this,
In a basin of water, I never miss
The sweet sharp sense of a fugitive day
Fetched back from its thickening shroud of gray.
Hence the only prime
And real love-rhyme
That I know by heart,
And that leaves no smart,
Is the purl of a little valley fall
About three spans wide and two spans tall
Over a table of solid rock,
And into a scoop of the self-same block;
The purl of a runlet that never ceases
In stir of kingdoms, in wars, in peaces;
With a hollow boiling voice it speaks
And has spoken since hills were turfless peaks.’
‘And why gives this the only prime
Idea to you of a real love-rhyme?
And why does plunging your arm in a bowl
Full of spring water, bring throbs to your soul?’
‘Well, under the fall, in a crease of the stone,
Though precisely where none ever has known,
Jammed darkly, nothing to show how prized,
And by now with its smoothness opalized,
Is a grinking glass:
For, down that pass
My lover and I
Walked under a sky
Of blue with a leaf-wove awning of green,
In the burn of August, to paint the scene,
And we placed our basket of fruit and wine
By the runlet’s rim, where we sat to dine;
And when we had drunk from the glass together,
Arched by the oak-copse from the weather,
I held the vessel to rinse in the fall,
Where it slipped, and it sank, and was past recall,
Though we stooped and plumbed the little abyss
With long bared arms. There the glass still is.
And, as said, if I ****** my arm below
Cold water in a basin or bowl, a throe
From the past awakens a sense of that time,
And the glass we used, and the cascade’s rhyme.
The basin seems the pool, and its edge
The hard smooth face of the brook-side ledge,
And the leafy pattern of china-ware
The hanging plants that were bathing there.
‘By night, by day, when it shines or lours,
There lies intact that chalice of ours,
And its presence adds to the rhyme of love
Persistently sung by the fall above.
No lip has touched it since his and mine
In turns therefrom sipped lovers’ wine.’
2.7k
*throe me
sapiditous
to the heavens
with your
suspense driven
mindfuck
thrillers
blue
bitter-sweet
twists
and
slow teased
bitten
kisses
arcing
me to
stardust*
Nov 16, 2012
Nov 16, 2012 at 4:21 PM UTC
This is the weather the cuckoo likes,
And so do I;
When showers betumble the chestnut spikes,
And nestlings fly;
And the little brown nightingale bills his best,
And they sit outside at ‘The Traveller’s Rest,’
And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest,
And citizens dream of the south and west,
And so do I.
This is the weather the shepherd shuns,
And so do I;
When beeches drip in browns and duns,
And thresh and ply;
And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe,
And meadow rivulets overflow,
And drops on gate bars hang in a row,
And rooks in families homeward go,
And so do I.
2.3k
Lamentation; infelicity through neurotransmitters
Passing fleetly; swift but disturbed
Grids of brainwaves for the degraded
Overhead LED view is negroided
Chapter 1 Migraines;
A klaxon that grains into migraine
From there on out, strolling convulsion lane
Deriving from deception; antibodies start to lead loosely
Throe after throe I choose not to fuss
Laceration in hemikrania is conversing with the rest of my body,
Frequent as days turn nightly
I host the severe megrimly
Chapter 2 Vomiting;
A horendous bile builds up in my throat
Moaning like a ghoul; I banish the gloats
Disgorging from nothing, Heaving and heaving the dry
Although I force myself not, all the nosh turns into emit rye
Vital fluid very crimson soon came
From the cranium, I dislose, head pain
Frequent as the waves harsh blows
I host a ***** hose
Chapter 3 Tumor;
A neoplasm underneath I've found out
Unvisible but there; my flesh will start swelling undoubt
Below I feel like a mutant
All putant and disformed
Like globular liquids dripping from sewage waste
As long as I can still haste
Crescendo and surge won't ado
Frequent as traffic builds a rush hour
I host a cyst that is sour
Chapter 4 Deaf;
An absense of all frequencies
I daze everso daily;
Feeling like an earless statue; sound unaccompanied
Missing the wind's howls that ululate,
Clamors and bellows that spoliate
I can't sight the same verbiage
Without sonancy to inflicit, I see one big mirage
Frequent as birth enfolds
I host a soundless toll
Chapter 5 Brain Cancer;
A malignant fate told today
Disease spreading like a machine,
Programmed to enquire all it knows
A gruesome and hateful dose;
Withering casually away
Grown apart of, I'm the prey
As we hunt the beasts'
An invisible naked eye is poaching
Frequent as a house infested
I host a cancerous clothing
Chapter 6 Death;
A termination soon to unfold
I am as finished and ruined as story told
Biological function ending
Senescence through spending
User maat I haven't seen all wanted
Alas I am greatful for what has been daunted
Frequent as a death anew
I host a dissolution
My evolution; through.
Nov 24, 2010
Nov 24, 2010 at 7:09 AM UTC
•
*You are the sole yellow rose that I see,
In the amidst of this wicked and vexatious wilderness,
You've captured my heart,
With your bright, delightful and auspicious hue,
My eyes are affix to your alluring nature,
And a picture of you I keep dearly in my heart.
I walk into the hellacious pathway,
The pathway that draw stripes on me,
I did try to endure all throe and grief,
'Cause after this endeavor,
You'll fill me with beautitude and love,
And my triumph I will lavish upon you as I hold you in my arms.
Now I have succeeded and hold firm grip on you,
All aches been covered up with my overwhelmed soul,
Your thorns I've eliminated and put end to your excruciation,
I hold you so close to me and keep you safe in my chest,
I will never let you go and I'll bathe you with my love,
We will conquer the world together, forever 'til eternity.*
with love <3
© Earl Jane
♥ E.J.C.S.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 6:55 AM UTC
Where lovers do catch the very fabric of the heart
Your lips float with the grace of a snowflake
Snowglobe on the mantle for all to see
But only my hands to embrace
Precious keepsake
The moon-light echos the radiance of your touch
Drawing warmth to calm my inner throe
Soothing with every stroke
A master and a brush
My Picasso
In the lovers mind you endlessly wander in wonder
As you seek to grip the slow progress of carnality
Where your unchained immortality rests
Embroidered deep in my eyes'
Caress of reality
Dec 21, 2010
Dec 21, 2010 at 7:56 PM UTC
She walks on duty, through the night
Of coughing calls and sleepless sighs
And in the dim and pallid light
She stalks the ward with drooping eyes;
Thus patients rest within her sight
Which keeps them safe from their demise
One patient more, one break the less,
As frantic hands prepare the space
Which someone left in such a mess
So now she works at twice the pace
Whilst hiding signs of inner stress
With grimaced smile upon her face
And on that bed, and in the throe,
A deathly pale old patient went;
She held his hand and mopped his brow
His weary angel, heaven sent;
His vital signs began to grow
As she collapsed, her goodness spent.
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 5:49 PM UTC
Midst wizened trees the ancient word
Blows through ears that strive to have heard
The magic medley of the land
The stirring Spring gestates her garland
Dribbling music to the bards
We are the bards. Long time ago
We dwelled and swelled in Nature's glow
We lived, felt Love, but now we go
Searching for rainbow, to and fro
Our path takes us high and low
To truth, which raptures us in throe
The torch of truth be ours to hold
In streams of dreams and fires of gold
Sat brooding in desire and woe
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 11:35 AM UTC
It seems that lately I can’t get no peace,
From all those so-called Grammar Police,
Who for some reason think that I should care,
The difference between there, they’re and their.
They want to analyze everything I say,
Just waiting for me to lie when I want to lay,
And I really think they just do it because,
They want to further some petty cause.
So, what I do is I mess with there head,
I write the word red when I really mean read,
And I couldn’t care less if they throe a fit,
Should I confuse the words elicit with illicit.
And it really don’t phase me if I’m derelict,
By writing something like “cause and affect,”
I’ll just stare and say “Whatcha gonna do?”
If I want to write that the sky is blew.
Though I really shutter at the very thought,
I’ll try to be discrete and not get caught,
But if they should arrest me and throe me in jail,
Just bee sure and come and post my bale.
05-06-12.
May 6, 2012
May 6, 2012 at 8:27 PM UTC
My chest feels heavy,
my breathing is so tight
that I am almost running out of oxygen
leading me to a hypoxic state.
I’ve been punching
this pulsing sensation inside.
Cursing it to stop beating,
for all it ever pounds
is the most excruciating pain
I have ever felt my whole life.
Running deeply from my skin,
to every nerve and to every tiny
fiber of my being.
I wanted to scream
from the peak of Mount Thor,
from there I’ll jump
only to submerge myself
in the Mariana Trench
to slough every tear,
repel every hatred, and
to relinquish every throe
that there is inside me.
Where no one would have
to witness me at my weakest,
where nothing would hear me
as inconsolable,
somewhere I know I will not see you.
How could you?
You grabbed my heart,
petted it, then throw it away
and have it smashed
to the ground.
How could I?
Prospered by your sole existence,
and dreaded by
the wrath of tomorrow, by
the pang of longing, and
by the ache of defeat.
Bizarre, that’s what my faith is now.
As for my prayers, they’re perfidious.
I am finally unarmed.
Am no longer the warrior
I once used to be.
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 7:59 PM UTC
By thine own tears thy song must tears beget,
O Singer! Magic mirror thou hast none
Except thy manifest heart; and save thine own
Anguish or ardour, else no amulet.
Cisterned in Pride, verse is the feathery jet
Of soulless air-flung fountains; nay, more dry
Than the Dead Sea for throats that thirst and sigh,
That song o’er which no singer’s lids grew wet.
The Song-god—He the Sun-god—is no slave
Of thine: thy Hunter he, who for thy soul
Fledges his shaft: to no august control
Of thy skilled hand his quivered store he gave:
But if thy lips’ loud cry leap to his smart,
The inspir’d recoil shall pierce thy brother’s heart.
1.5k
Where do I begin.
It's been so long since I've been so close to the end that I could smell the earth around me.
I think I've been playing both sides of the field so long that I can't differentiate between a graveyard shift,
and a cold dead sunrise. But I wouldn't know the difference between differentiating and diffusing dreaming
Dead dawn rises opening up this world
Dead dusk down on a twitch throe, circling the fence around my collapsing line of vision
Sorrow and *** the two things I like best that I want less of the more that I get.
If I could go back...I would have kissed you on the river. I would have shown you with tenderness, what it is like for your life here on this world to be wanted. I would have given you what love feels like beyond the shade of fear of loss, the ultimate gift I would keep on giving. And then I would've stricken you with my oar until your beautiful body no longer broke surface intentionally. It would have been the gentleman's way of settling things. Instead I chose the dreamer's.
I've been in camouflage, hiding well from you. hoping to escape within the community of a seemingly functional
system.
Found it hard to keep my cool when utterance of a simple name or phrase could throw me into breathing lasps,
When the sight of a single stone upon the ground could be a city in the sky, my last gasps are playing and
rewinding and then playing, and rewinding, and then playing, and rewinding and then playing, and rewinding and I'm laying down the sheets upon the floor, because the bed reminds me too much of the perfect story memory I'm
alone. In a
building. In a
desert. In a
deadlocked staring contest between me
and my reflection in the moonlit water memories that make up all I am were was are is will ever ******* be
If you can't escape in a ******* dream then where the **** else am I gonna go?
I've wasted my life, observing, becoming less a part of all the things I spend time looking at.
Removing myself from the final edit. Hoping somehow,
That total abstinence,
From your world,
And my worldly desires,
Will
somehow
put Me in
CONTROL.
Love is about control for you. I believe in you.
I don't know if I believe in control.
It doesn't matter if I believe in love.
Someone please just see the justification for anything I do. I am begging for a partner. I have no one to observe
me.
If I seem hellbent, please...I am merely driven by demons to an end I would have no means to reach if I was...
left alone...
Oct 3, 2011
Oct 3, 2011 at 5:41 AM UTC
•
*
Oh my soulmate and king,
This soul is lamenting prodigiously,
I stretch my spirit's breathing,
And clasp tightly into my heart,
With my other hand outstretching to the sky,
Begging for mercy to end my utmost torment,
But I end up crouching in extreme pain,
My eyes are swollen, tears dried up,
Voice are hoarsen for hours of shrieking,
To lavish pity from above.
Oh my Lord and Saviour,
Extend this life for my lover,
I could not afford to rest in peace from my torture,
If I won't see a glimpse of his empyrean countenance,
Oh my God, my Lord,
These knees are bruised in genuflecting for my unceasing prayers,
Beseeching for your miracle to enfold me,
I am conquering, taking aching breaths at a time,
Rolling my eyes, biting my lips and tearing in this throe,
Oh Lord God,
Give me wings just for a day,
Give strength to it and help me to spread dauntlessly and fly to where my Brandon is,
I need my king's love and comfort,
I need to tell him how I cherish him,
I need to tell him how I love him so much,
I need to hug him and let him know I will always be with him,
Though the earth be shaken and the universe disintegrate,
He will wear my love like a crown,
And my love's assurance I will settle in his ring finger,
I will secure him for a queen should protect her king,
Though I won't be physically with him for long,
For I only have a day to keep breathing,
With agony I keep holding unto my hope,
To pull me up when I arch in hurt and grief,
But my psyche will be with him 'til infinity,
Oh My Lord, I will forever be with him.
Oh my Saviour,
Just PLEASE,
If I won't make it today,
And I won't be able to tell him all I want to say,
And do all I wanna do to him,
Just please my God,
Just please remind him always that I love him alone so much,
If he shed tears in lonesomeness when I am gone,
Please wipe his tears for me,
For I won't be able to hold him physically and comfort him,
Please my God, let him feel I am always with him,
Awaken his happiness oh Lord when am gone,
Rekindle his mind to read the poems I made for him,
Lord God, shelter him with your love,
I don't wanna see him shedding tears for me,
I want to limn smile in his mouth,
But I know it will be mourning for sorrow when I am no longer in this earth,
I am fighting hard to survive for him,
But I am so weak, my strength evaporated,
My voice disappeared and my hope almost relinquish,
Just please Oh God,
Let me rest in peace knowing he is safe in your arms,
Envelop him with console and exhilaration,
Just please be with him together with me always,*
Oh Lord God, I love him so so much!
with love <3
© Earl Jane
♥ E.J.C.S.
Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 10:12 PM UTC
I used to dance alone in my room
I’d spin the spun black under needle
And turn till my walls became one
I’d stretch my face in strain
And mimic pain in movement
I’d measure arms and hands to
The waver of the music
I cried in concaved chest and
Screamed in legs splitting air,
Laughed in fingers spreading wide
And collapsed to the beat’s final throe
I became a simulated symphony, and
So became each dance;
My afternoon secret
I’d forget words and
Mesh into mangled body melody
mmmmmm those hands droning guitar and
a distant voice
in verse,
drumming, drumming
My body curled around each syllable,
Both in question and answer
It was pain, yes
It was heartache
Yes, it was beautiful
But I soon realized
It was not mine
- c
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 1:09 PM UTC