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Amariah Clift Nov 2014
Thank fearless love for a passionate life.
Throttles charge the gallows as if oddly shaped feet pour over mountains
There are things, the things no one has thought of before
Thin, thick, the golden gate plays games, give way to distrusting forgiveness
Thrusting and diving, trusting the knifing thief
Thoughts and dreams, whispers and spit
Through mediums and *******
Thinking, inking, chumming, coming
Thumbs are an evolutionary error
The taste of him, tactical and scared, afraid of the ensnared
Thrilling and drilling the president, he’s drowning in his will to represent
Threads rip at the sight of wrong and rotten thicks of ruin
Thistles lump near the top, swinging while ticks sway and swoon
Throw candles, lit fireflies, halt the stop watch knowing desire as we die
Throats bleach with boiling bills, and melodiously drown in melancholy ornaments
Theories prove insane is a thorough man with an open book of blank pages
Thwarting covers, nobody remembers, none have known his face
Thrifty as he is, they thrive on his peace and resistance
Thirty thousand cherries dropping at once, an atomic bomb
Threatening the fictitious fruit and depriving them of their dairy-free dreamscapes  
Thirsty Thursday looks at ******* Friday with a fringe of fear and inevitable fate
This feeling strives for a piece of an idea
Those thinkers, sultry like lively lace purple violet lilacs
Throttle sticks like lit dynamite to the corpses of conscious cornucopia
Thirsting crooked thatches croon about WD40, singing of slippery songs
Thespian facades, escapades and escapes, long catharsis reaction
Thumping metallic beats, drum the dents in my souls
Thermal conspiracy, heating the eggs equally hard boiled
Thin trees fragile nuances manifesting smoldering adolescent passion
Themed leaves seize Victoria’s secrets, branches boast their bulimia
Thorns are for foreign foliage fornication, induced by important imbeciles
Thumps will free theatre floors’ footsteps, and yawn gouging groans between the cracks
Thugs wail woes, worries and warts, sailors chug the tailored mug
Thongs, *** cracks and crackerjacks, sweet till the sweaty end
Thaw the swallows nest, waking feathers from their preening and unrest
This poem has taken me the course of several months to finish. It makes little sense and is strictly put together because I though the words sounded pleasant together
Debbie Apr 8
A single junco hopping carefree;
pecking stray seed in the snow.
The bird fully embraces the world it knows.
It's tiny heart thumps in gratitude;
for the wondrous discovery of food.

There is a difference between nice and kind;
you will hopefully someday find.
Being nice, you are pleasant and agreeable;
only to make yourself shine
in another's judgemental eye.
If you are kind, you have a deeper level of compassion
for a person's needy cry.
I'm done people pleasing.
B Oct 2020
I can’t do anything right
I can’t do anything outside
I can’t leave
The voices in my head are screaming
Cover your face, don’t let them see
Cover your face, hide what you are
Mask up, keep it on
Paranoid about my privacy

Days on weeks
On months
On years
Hiding away from the world
They’re always asking
They’re always wondering
They want to know
They speculate

Anxiety attacks
Hands shake
Breath halters
Heart thumps

Don’t let them see
Don’t let them know

Hide away hide away hide away

Don’t show them what you really are
I ******* hate myself
Pauline Morris Jun 2016
There is this bully, he's never very kind
He tries to hurt feelings with weaknesses he THINKS he finds
But he's not even in the same league as mine
In fact he's far behind
He needs to shed his monkey hair, and join us humanoids  
Maybe his anger stems from an over  use of steroids
He thumps his chest, stands up tall
Hoping it will make you look small
He picks and pokes
Trying to provoke

It's a defensive action taken by a simple mind
But I've diagnosed his personality, it has been defined
He knows that I am good, but He wants to be seen as better
All I'm saying is what does it really matter

He thought I was weak, but I've waged to many battles
I'm not afraid of the rusty chains he rattles
Please just crawl back to whatever rock you was under
My feelings you can not pillage and plunder
I will not allow that or listen to your hate filled words
All that comes out of you mouth is **** after ****
So I say so long to you, the bully that you are
I hope the distance between us, remains very far
For I have better use of my time
Than dealing with your ****** up mind
I hope those onion rings of yours give you diarrhea. Maybe then you won't be so full of ****.
splvrry Jun 2014
when my friends talk about you,
my heart stops,
and no words come out.

but when i am with you,
my heart thumps,
and my actions & words get loud.
****
Connor C Blake Mar 2015
This moment was never mine
But somehow I found the arrogance to hold onto it
To fear it, to fight it, to somehow decide if it was wrong or if it was right
or if I was even alive inside it, and if I would survive it
To see the next one roll around and drown whatever fragile solace I found.

But before the answer finds me, the next moment and I meet.
And this one isn’t too keen to let me believe it’d be okay to just breathe
Without thinking about the million little reasons I'm too scared to leave

So I’ll stay
And I’ll huff and I'll puff
But no amount of breath will ever be enough
To satisfy the divide between my lungs and my mind

Whatever moment is next to be, but I guess it’s not meant to be
Because I never find the next moment, it always finds me

But there doesn’t seem to be any peace in this fresh start
Only faster thumps from my restless heart
Telling my fingers and knees to shake so violently,
The pillars of sand beneath my feet dissolve back into the sea
And leave me bobbing for air like it isn’t free

And then a new moment hangs its noose around me
and tightens an iron grip around my throat
taunting “think fast kid, dead bodies don’t float”
But I can’t let go, so I just sit there and watch myself choke

And just when the oxygen no longer comes
A new moment claws its way down to the pit of my lungs
Digging up an old ladder with a new set of rungs

I’m still alive, right?
The wires are crossed, but they’re still clicking, the gears are still spinning, clock hands still ticking,
So why am I so incapable of winning?

Which moment am I living in?
Or maybe there’s not much difference between now and then

But before my mind and I can make amends
A new moment interrupts and begins it all again

Send help, dear friend.
Anyone who has ever struggled with the moment to moment battles of anxiety, panic, depression, or any other illness will surely find some ounce  of truth in this.

.
Antoinette G Oct 2015
My sobs abruptly end
When the loud heavy trod of
booted feet are heard walking down the hall
Eyes wide, my eyes roam quickly
around the room
There must be somewhere I can hide?
A barren room is my answer
My heart beats faster as the thumps get closer
Why is he home so early?
I scramble out of bed
Quickly brushing the tears off of my face
The thumps cease right in front of my door
The click of a lock is heard
With a creak my door slowly opens
Eyes wide I look into the face of the person
Who has turned my life into a living hell
He was suppose to be my Knight
But has turned into my Prisoner
He smiles sweetly at me
my stomach twist into knots
There's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide
Plastering a smile on my face
I greet my father
Kailee Meyer Jul 2013
our conversations consisted of
blinking once for yes and twice for no
I am nothing
but an unspoken love letter on your lips
a wasted kiss
forgotten
only until my old heart finally beats again
and it
thump
thump
thumps
along with the beat of a batting eyelash
Dark n Beautiful Nov 2020
When a poem speak in confidence
That is how I am as I walk the street of Brooklyn

me, a poem of mystery, a bite senility though
in my sensate world:

I know ones pride, can over shadow them
Never ride ones pride.  Especially when the
price of victory is high but so are the rewards.

Did our former leader congratulate the new President?

Maybe I missed his speech,
pride is born in the heart
Ego is born in the mind
today is November 10th 2020:

My job can be so frustrating at times,
during these times of uncertainty

I have to push on daily,
to have a joyful moment,
at the work place
Give thank in all circumstances,
but I will never uttered those words
That is was God work:
it was because of my inner fears.
That led me to stay as long
as I did at the seafront:

The world feels lighter these days,
Satan power is lessening,
Death has lost its sting ( 1 Corinthians 15:55

For the first time in this country
A black female is the vice president of America
And what bring a smile on my face,
She attend the same college as my younger daughter
Howard University.. Thumps up !

When I was a teenager,
I went swimming late one night
In the cold water down the harbor Road,
A poem was created that night, little did I knew
Here I am rehashing those memories…..
A happy mood clouds our judgement
Words, words, images and the truth
Michael might not remember, but I remember,

The city lights and the whispering of the wind:
My shivering slender body was a poem inside and out:
When my poems speak in confidence,  I walk, the walk
In the street of Brooklyn..
MMV Abad Sep 2010
My heart bangs achingly.
Hear it thumps like crazy.
Your nearness makes it worse.
How it desires for you.

No such words from my lips,
but see it in my eyes,
believe it in my soul.
The love I have for you.

Hear it and understand.
Come now and ease its pain.
Hear my gloomy heart out.
It only beats for you.
'Love has its own measurement.'

Copyright *MMV Abad @ Apr 9, 2010
The call center Bunny cannot sit Still.
He's a t-t-t-twitchy *******
with an Easter Grill.
His foot just thumps, and thumps, and thumps, and thumps until.
Beep!
Receiving a call, now it's ***** to the wall.
He's Makin' a Deal.

Welcome to the Magic Bean order center My name is thump~

"STOP RIGHT THERE RABBIT!
Tricks are for kids.
I'm 100 years old tomorrow,
I'm not placing a bid.
I'm calling about that free sample,
can you do that or not?"
"Brace for impact boys" Says Thumper.
"She's coming in hot."

Up to the plate with Rapport.
A ******* and a Miss.
"That's a great question, deary."
As he lights up a spliff.
Now the Dinosaur responded,
Well it was more like roaring.
Through the headset this woman
Led on quite a story
Most men would be huffing and puffing as she blew their house down.
But thumper sat there patiently
Turned her frown right around.

He pulled a lot more than grass
Out of his basket of Candy
"Listen here, kiddo.
You have a chance to be happy."
Get a Bunny enough paint.
He turns ******' Picasso.
"What's that beautiful?
You gonna let that rock go?"

"If you mail your wedding ring today.
We'll throw in an extra back bone."

This ******' rabbit Is tamin' raptors
on the phone like Chris Pratt.
He reads The wrap-up verbatim
Then does a victory lap.

The call center Bunny cannot sit Still.
He's a t-t-t-twitchy *******
with an Easter Grill.
His foot just thumps, and thumps, and thumps, and thumps until.
"Hey Thumper."
His little bunny smirk seems to
Spot himself a thrill.

"Seems like everybunny here is taking' Adderall."
So he pops and he smokes
He snorts and he cokes.
lines back up
with a wink, a pill, a couple less bucks.

Waves goodbye to the boss.
Swivels down in his spinny spot.
Snaps one headphone to his ear hole
Then stares attentive at the clock.

Tick tock tick
The bunny vibrates as he wait.
Usually he not so wide eyed
more drifting or asleep.
big white dress feet over
keyboard and mouse.
His tie pulled loose,
his ego is out.
The Pink bunny looks
seems to whistle and shout.
The bathroom stall is empty
where they usually hang out.
So they set AQE.
Though their meeting be brief.
It was Tactical.
Vertical
***** relief.
With her cotton tail up,
Her skirt to her knees.
Their paws on their flaws
A nibble for His carrot
Her Cadbury thong.
Got this pink bunny dialing
up against the wall.
you heard the thump, and thump, and thump, and thump and call.

For The call center Bunny
who can NOT sit Still.
He's a t-t-t-twitchy *******
with an Easter Grill.
Her foot just thumps, and thumps, and thumps, and thumps until.
Beep!
Receiving a call, now it's ***** to the wall. She's Makin' a Deal

soundcloud.com/geekelement
This Poem Is not about Thumper.
I wake
with a deep pain in my chest
I wake
with longing ache in my heart
I wake
with loud thumps of my heartbeat
I wake
with an uncontrolable shaking of my hands
I wake
with the sweaty-ness of my palms
I wake
with the cold tingle on my feet
I wake
with the loud chatter of my teeth
I wake
with a disturbing feeling lingering on my skin
I wake
with the salty taste of tears on my lips

I wake,
Every night,
Wondering why,
This happens to me.
I wrote this on June when I was having a horrible night and I finished it at 2:29 in the morning.
Riq Schwartz May 2014
The sound of flesh tones
takes me back to you,
somehow.
The flavor of your words,
the smell of snow
sending your skin crawling;
windows pain and
suffer in ice.
We perch precariously
hardly inside my car,
bleed into night
breathing delicacies
into the hollow air,
our hands full of each others'.

If this poem had melody,
it would sound alarms.
Sickly sweet thumps from
drums dripping discord
hard lines
lead down
lead down
lead down
Keys to carry our
lock-boxed thoughts
overseas, we
are just unaccustomed
to these breeds
of attuning, intoning,
singing serenades
in shameless shades
like ghosts of each other
found only here,
some haunted isle.

I hear your breath in the fog
See your body like a moment
Taste you bitter in recital
like some copiously black coffee
which your tongue taught me to love.
You burn my hands,
my lips,
my lungs.
You burn.


Syncopate and center,
taking this legal pad
for some sort of joy ride
to break all the rules with.
Warm now beneath tips
of pen and ink and finger,
blues bleeding;
You stay, still
stuck in my mind,
impervious to scrawls,
and immune to memory,
yet found in songs of
another's composition.
Aden Burns Jan 2015
Time ticks and tocks at the pulse of your heart,
Its thumps govern what is day when night to start.

I find it fine that peace no more my own, is ground in rhyme with your pace,
My wilting breath still willing to stir if your clock shall plunge into a race.

As tenant to your love,
I heed whispers from above...

Each cycle, your blood echoes troubled wails trailing from your mind,
Rest m'lady, I am bound to you, such that any distress you face shall now be mine.
Mellifluous Mar 2012
They made me **** my family
As I stabbed I found I did not love them

They had me throw away my belongings
As they rotted I finally saw the delirium they had me under

They stole all my memories
As each was grabbed I was belittled
The expected them to matter

They chocked out all my emotions
As they strangled I lacked the will to gasp

They gave me spider veins
and ejection marks
and thumps where the love had been poured into me

They told me what was right
and what was wrong
and what I should do
and what I have done

They gave me a life
As I wanted to end mine
Francie Lynch May 2021
What was that. A knock?
Sssh!
Listen.
I heard something.
Was it the wind, scratching across my pane?
The pine tree branch thumps its fingers.
Squirrels, racoons and mice scurry over my roof.
My porch light is a beacon of revelation.
The doors are locked against friend or others.
I will wait.
Fall asleep.
Dream.
A hut on an island in the blue,
No ghostly memories.
Kurt Kanawa Apr 2014
now that i'm floating away
from the one i love
i find it harder to breathe
from up above

now my honey
tastes like diluted tea
and my *******
barely tingle me

now my heart
rarely thumps or skips
and i feel nothing
on these lonely lips

now my blue roses
are fading to white
and my sunrise eyes
are dying with the night

now that you're gone
i can't
i won't say a thing
i want
i need you back
and all the life
that you bring
Kìùra Kabiri Feb 2017
Like a male monkey you rises up
And thumps hard your chest-it is you and you only!
O Man! You forgets, who you are and what you are is Nature’s
She generously gives and she avariciously takes-
Just a few chances she is giving you to repent before she ruthlessly returns  
She is a sharp, doubled edged sword-merciful and merciless!
Man, Humanity is not hostility: Humanity is humility!

Like Sheol that is never satisfied you want to swallow the whole world
Like death you want to take everything, big-small-you want to stomach all
Everything you want to keep to yourself, to be to your entitlements
You take and leave nothing at all for the harmless hopeless-the voiceless  
Yet you easily forgets, when the angel of death calls it’s only you and your soul in burials
Your ill amassed pride, wealth and health is not with you anywhere in this your brutal trials
Man, Humanity is not gullibility: Humanity is generosity!

O man! O man! You fills the whole world with mortality
You have killed the sole essence of the soul’s endless immortality
With your undignified dishonesty, your free-will to filthy immorality  
War you begins wealthy to get-war is a supernormal profiting business
Man, Humanity souls has never been subjects to severity but sanctity!

Innocent-as little as little children-you murders-they were inevitable!
Common civilians’ deaths are collateral damages-inescapable!
You forgets who you are-you are a little loaned, little you returns for judgment
Here no allies to look after your backs, no cracks to corruption kickbacks-
It is the fairest of all hearings, a ***** for a ***** it is not for a big spoon!  
Man, Humanity is not ignobility: Humanity is dignity!

What you are given to govern you governs not
What you are given to take care of you pilfers all
For you and your lineages eternal legacies-the richest ever to have graced the earth!
Yet you forgets, Master a little while returns to put you to a rigorous account
And whoever much is given-that much is also expected, what will be your report?  
Man, Humanity is not royalty: Humanity is loyalty!

Humanity is a community, not a sorority of individuality!
Humanity is not infidelity: Humanity is honesty
Humanity is not how wealthy: Humanity is how a loyal legacy
Humanity is not how large is your multinationals entity:
Humanity is how huge is your small heart-its hospitality
Humanity is a humble history, a saintly story!  

© Kìùra Kabiri. All rights reserved.
JJ Hutton Dec 2014
I read a story the other day.
I read the headline.
It said: There is no god and we are his prophets.
We drive slowly on Saturdays.
At night in our home there are noises,
the dull thumps of ghosts.
We used to comment. Now we rollover.
I wake and return the blankets I’ve stolen.

In the mornings there is music.
A kitchen dance of tip-toes and arms at war with air.
The new car with its heated seats.
There’s a pace I like.
It’s microwaved tea;
it’s 11:30 a.m.;
it’s one more chapter before.

I listen to you get ready,
a chorus of tubes uncapped
and capped, of hairdryers
plugged and unplugged.
You sing softly.
I hear this, too.

Beyond this house,
a brook, a mountain, a trout.
Distances mapped.
Plans drawn with
parallel lines, listless and drifting.
Within,
there is no god, and he is love,
and we are his prophets.
You are my practitioner.
And I, yours.
Robert Zanfad Dec 2013
i drove into one of those famous tunnels beneath the Chesapeake
under a freighter that lumbered in its foggy distance,
still off about half a mile
i thought the kids might get a kick out of this experience
but they were busy in the rear view mirror,
snared in silent worlds of mini screen devices i bought to see them smile
there's only static on the radio now, like no more bourbon left in the bottle
and you're so quiet
this is my life - the thrumming dented van within a sterile white tile fortress,
ears on verge of popping
i hear humming tires, the thumps of each heart beat
trapped inside, heterodyned
Kristen Hain Sep 2015
Often times I’m staring
Awing in the curves of full blooming lips
Carved jawbone covered with deepening dark moss
The journey through the damp forest after warm rain
It is all awake alive and breathing clearly
Rising and falling like the rare drops from deciduous leaves
I cannot tell you how inhuman you feel to me
Your skin darkens around your eyes from nights up
Long evenings too many and whiskey that never even made it to a cup
Sometimes I cannot break a gaze from the casement around your pupil
The pools of honey drip further toward me
My feet find it impossible to remove themselves
So much like quicksand but sweet calming and warm
Smooth and simplistic in youth the way skin drapes
Hangs over structured bones in the most phenomenal way
Just as your eyes are lavished in graham brown
You stay glowing even in the cold weather from blessed ancestry
Down to tender arteries and muscle where I’ve placed lips a thousand times
Shoulders swoop outwards like broad boulders
Distinguishable markers play connect the dots toward inked surfaced skin
Permanence of scarred lines forming a hot air balloon and anchor pulling it down
It’s from your favorite band, I’m noticing synapses collide on the concept
Elongated extended vines lead to tools that hold and create masterpieces
Strong slender hands with fingertips that press and pluck strings
Coat themselves with paint on late evening or early mornings
Tread lightly on my skin and illuminate my face with a coaxing touch
You are the rain forest from sunrise
My heart thumps to the sense of danger behind a corner
But I know such things and if they were to **** me,
I would be treasured in becoming a tall Kapok
With roots buried miles deep
Nakia Oct 2017
I've never felt my heart skip a beat.
Not until he took it and pushed it.
Out of rhythm.
No longer on beat.
There is something in that smile.
Something in the scent that can slow or speed up my thumps.
I don't understand how you do this to me.
Help me understand.
CHORUS: O suitably-attired-in-leather-boots
Head of a traveller, wherefore seeking whom
Whence by what way how purposed art thou come
To this well-nightingaled vicinity?
My object in inquiring is to know.
But if you happen to be deaf and dumb
And do not understand a word I say,
Then wave your hand, to signify as much.

ALCMAEON: I journeyed hither a Boetian road.
CHORUS: Sailing on horseback, or with feet for oars?
ALCMAEON: Plying with speed my partnership of legs.
CHORUS: Beneath a shining or a rainy Zeus?
ALCMAEON: Mud's sister, not himself, adorns my shoes.
CHORUS: To learn your name would not displease me much.
ALCMAEON: Not all that men desire do they obtain.
CHORUS: Might I then hear at what thy presence shoots.
ALCMAEON: A shepherd's questioned mouth informed me that--
CHORUS: What? for I know not yet what you will say.
ALCMAEON: Nor will you ever, if you interrupt.
CHORUS: Proceed, and I will hold my speechless tongue.
ALCMAEON: This house was Eriphyle's, no one else's.
CHORUS: Nor did he shame his throat with shameful lies.
ALCMAEON: May I then enter, passing through the door?
CHORUS: Go chase into the house a lucky foot.
And, O my son, be, on the one hand, good,
And do not, on the other hand, be bad;
For that is much the safest plan.
ALCMAEON: I go into the house with heels and speed.

CHORUS

Strophe

In speculation
I would not willingly acquire a name
For ill-digested thought;
But after pondering much
To this conclusion I at last have come:
LIFE IS UNCERTAIN.
This truth I have written deep
In my reflective midriff
On tablets not of wax,
Nor with a pen did I inscribe it there,
For many reasons: LIFE, I say, IS NOT
A STRANGER TO UNCERTAINTY.
Not from the flight of omen-yelling fowls
This fact did I discover,
Nor did the Delphine tripod bark it out,
Nor yet Dodona.
Its native ingunuity sufficed
My self-taught diaphragm.

Antistrophe

Why should I mention
The Inachean daughter, loved of Zeus?
Her whom of old the gods,
More provident than kind,
Provided with four hoofs, two horns, one tail,
A gift not asked for,
And sent her forth to learn
The unfamiliar science
Of how to chew the cud.
She therefore, all about the Argive fields,
Went cropping pale green grass and nettle-tops,
Nor did they disagree with her.
But yet, howe'er nutritious, such repasts
I do not hanker after:
Never may Cypris for her seat select
My dappled liver!
Why should I mention Io? Why indeed?
I have no notion why.

Epode

But now does my boding heart,
Unhired, unaccompanied, sing
A strain not meet for the dance.
Yes even the palace appears
To my yoke of circular eyes
(The right, nor omit I the left)
Like a slaughterhouse, so to speak,
Garnished with woolly deaths
And many sphipwrecks of cows.
I therefore in a Cissian strain lament:
And to the rapid
Loud, linen-tattering thumps upon my chest
Resounds in concert
The battering of my unlucky head.

ERIPHYLE (within): O, I am smitten with a hatchet's jaw;
And that in deed and not in word alone.
CHORUS: I thought I heard a sound within the house
Unlike the voice of one that jumps for joy.
ERIPHYLE: He splits my skull, not in a friendly way,
Once more: he purposes to **** me dead.
CHORUS: I would not be reputed rash, but yet
I doubt if all be gay within the house.
ERIPHYLE: O! O! another stroke! that makes the third.
He stabs me to the heart against my wish.
CHORUS: If that be so, thy state of health is poor;
But thine arithmetic is quite correct.
Conor Letham Mar 2012
Yestreen, the night cried like a flying circus,
with belts of hoots, laughter and howls.

Thumps caved walls like a drum,
seeking full attention in the early morn’s hours.

A shrill would chirm a space,
as a soul would burrow its place to hide.

The moon turned searching spotlight,
bawled mumbling  groans like a child gone snide.

Screams were thrown in disgust,
like a temperamental mother in a sunken heat.

A whip-crack tore at the sky,
as though it swore I could never be true or right.

The rain had sounded like flittering lashes
against reddened cheeks cold, beaten and bruised.

It was quiet as though the right words
were not for the night’s embrace to ever be used.

The windows did cheer so wittily
like clapter belting the colour out of a smile.

The sky cried and wanted me home,
although I would return and never leave her side.
Katlyn Orthman Mar 2013
Bring to me the sweet sound and echoes of the piano
Which ring about the stands
Quietly they await the song
I start out slowly, a bit shaky at first
And I grow with power I grow with strength
With the sweet adrenaline running through my veins and my heart thump thump thumps
The beautiful sounds ringing threw unexpecting lips
And when I sing out the last word
They crowd erupts in a glorious applause
I sang in the talent show just yesterday and it was amazing!<3 everyone was amazing
Marshal Gebbie Dec 2022
Read the words upon the page
Depicting how was such an age
That, then, ensconced in everyday
In truth, permitted Hell to play.

Where age with all it's wisdom gleaned
Should logically be rightly seen
As guidance for emerging youth
Where past mistakes impart as truth.

Though tragically, bereft as seen,
The actuality now doth scream
For youth doth relegate to grass
Aged wisdom's pearls.... as shattered glass.

Dispersed amid the flotsam tide
Lies that which salves salvation's hide,
Lies that which wreaks of God's works, twist,
Dispersed through cold, Alzheimer mist.

The waste of ancient eyes at rest
Expelled, devoid of life, at best
But should a crisis start to burn
Old minds may co-opt young to learn?

History makes the paradigm
That thumps the lesson home, with time,
In squandering the wealth of age
We burn the story, tear the page.

Now delegated to the shelf
Immersed in indignation's self
Old wallow in blue pity's taint
Inhibited by self restraint.

But then the moment comes around
When happenstance, by chance compound,
When youth, of clear complexioned face,
May stumble into mute disgrace....

Thence whilst the Angel trumpets grace
Whence in that vacant, silenced space,
Then flows of wisdom tumble thine
From lips that spake in ancient time.

Knowledge held in Holy Grail
Empirically forth then, when regaled,
As pomp and circumstance decreed
Should all, combined then, .... be agreed?

M.
9th December 2022
Foxglove@Taranaki,NZ.
Oh! the frustration of the aged at being sidelined by the arrogance of emergent youth.
The impertinence of the transfer of power and influence from one era to the next and the ever present wastage of invaluable lessons learned and priceless experience, gained from the labour of the travails of time.
M.
K Balachandran Mar 2017
A fleeting face to face,
serendipitous,
on a humid tropical evening,
was the first time;
it felt like a shower.

But our probing  eyes
must have known better,
they curtly demanded
one more quick look
as we passed
each other;
we were obedience personified!

Then eyes met eyes
many times by chance.
Two birds of passage
found themselves
preening feathers
on the branches of the same tree
chosen in an impulse,
proved so right!

You sit with your crowd
on the side of a long step
one on the flight to the cinema
a favourite spot I learn, later.
The arrow from your eyes
hit it's gleaming point where it should
with such sweet force
as I come down the steps
and I become  a falling feather.

At the shadow of the book shelf
I find you , a pigeon soft  
sitting at the table across me,
making our lonely hearts
speak in the eloquence
of loud thumps
in enforced silence.

But the true meeting
did happen in between--
in that expanding space
of sweet, sweet silence
within us blowing trumpets!

Your eyes were the keys
to open the door to that chamber,
through the keyhole of my heart,
love bled copiously from that impact,
like nectar, which I was
tasting for the first time ever.
Are you aware what happens in course of heart's flight to it's pair
Universal Thrum Sep 2013
Is there one word that holds the power?

The breath created by humble lungs
The frequency resonating a once unheard ******* thrum
And cunningly shaped by a Loquacious tongue

To awaken the minds of the sleepers

Or is it emotion soothed by an ancient vibe

Of Universal Love

But what is Love?

Like a tender mother’s hug Found in the eye of your first friend
Before gazes averted strangers
And embraced the world by steady trust within
Separate tables pushed together
Greetings warm with heartfelt laughter
Everyone singing their own song
As a global chorus comes
On like a rushing blast of heat from the opened oven of love
Forward like the sea foam after the rip tide fades
Onward like the feathered wind, invisible
Yet its presence manifest in ethereal ways
The crescendo of 7 billion voices strong
The thumps of our brothers’ hearts beat out a mighty tune
Pounding the drum of a once deafened ear
The fiddlers from the forest meadow and the rushing of the leaves
Reminding us of our nature
As Oxygen consumers
And carbon dioxide providers

Have you heard the killing of trees?
No, but its seems to be all the Rage
Everywhere I go, seeing tree stumps line the way
Yet green grows evermore
Our living spirit chooses life
Because of darkness
The Light must shine

If I am You and You are Me and no one gets lost in-between
the cracks and the gaps of the sidewalks separated by all too distant train tracks
and the windows of the restaurant protecting the paying customer from the reality of the man
on the street corner
surviving the long night of the soul
Urban deserts, Moniless pits
Filled with human suffering
but human all the same

we are One
God
Different faces
Different Eyes
Different names
Wandering the Earth
Waiting to be saved
Or for those on top
maybe just judgment day
Ariel Oct 2014
First Meetings

First meetings,
open doors,
first time my eyes explores.
my heart thumps,
my breath quickens,
be gone jitterbugs and good riddance.

First meetings,
doors wide open,
words kept close,words unspoken.
life is short, so keep it simple.
keep your heart like its a temple.

First meeting,
doors arise .
I see the upcoming demise.
I see it in  your eyes.
the windows of your soul are shining back.
the windows of your soul are ready to attack.

First meetings ,
your heart sets ablaze of wonder and fun.
your spirit like thunder,
your heart just a blunder ,
it went off like a gun.
It shot me straight in the heart,
you shot so straight you almost tore me apart.

first meetings,
cautious doors,
no time to be explored.
First meetings, first encounters, first loves.
~When there’s a first remember there's always a last.
~When there’s a first remember there's always a last.
Rachel Gonzalez Jan 2012
Tonight I can write about the nights you have abandoned me,
The nights I agree with your absurdities
So young and naive, never did I understand what made them separate.
Always blaming myself, I never understood what made you such a bad man.
It's like clockwork, for everyday this man I do not recognize walks through the door,
Quietly I repeat, 'he cannot be the father I once loved'
Never knowing what to expect, I lock myself in my room and blast music,
Drowning everything out.
I avoid what will soon become an hour of nonsense.
Hearing the loud thumps up the stairs, I realize it is my turn.
Any small thing I have done or not done is now game.
These are the nights that make our 'relationship' continue to thrive on hatred.
I ask myself why you do this, why you call yourself the 'cancer' in my life.
Your apologies mean nothing.
Day after day we continue our isolated lives, never speaking.
Never anywhere near each other.
This is how we function and neither one of us is willing to change.
We are as stubborn as addicts.
No longer do I blame myself for our failed relationship,
Instead I tell myself that you do love me and never learned how to show it.
Occasionally I can look you in the face and call you my father without blaming you.
I continue to hope everything will improve.
Still some of the things you have said can never be undone or forgotten.
Tonight I can write as the pain slowly keeps slipping from my hearts grasp.
KillerLaurel Oct 2011
Pain
Pain
Pain
There is nothing else
No time for anything else
Pain
Pain
Pain
Within my pounding chest
Pieces fall
Shatter
Pain
Pain
Pain
The shells
Fragments
Embedded
Pain
Pain
Pain
Fragile like glass
Embedded in my chest
Are fragments
Digging
Deeper
Pain
Pain
Pain
The rhythmic beat
That thumps out a song
A song
Of shattered
Life
Of shattered
Love
Thump
Thump
Pain
Pain
They beat as one
As a whole
Fragmented
Together
Beat
Thump
Pain
Thump
Pain
Thump
Pain
T­he broken
Heart
In scattered pieces
Beats
Together
Thump
Thump
Pain
Pain
I endure
The beating
Of
A broken heart
Thump
Pain
Endure
Thump
Thump
Pain
Pain
Endure, endure
As one
My chest
Houses only pieces
My chest
Endures
The beating
Of A broken
Heart
Bleeding
For the one
That broke
It

— The End —