"transpiration" poems
A rose of glassblowing transparency...
air-born as the color eyes see
when closed to the sun.
Petals pressed open shatter in place...
as red silk intermingled.
The color of passion and alarm,
that an earth transpires--rose...
occasioned by that transpiration.
Put to amnesiac white wings--
aftershocks of contrast...as blood to
snow, and all its angels.
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 12:17 PM UTC
running through the countryside
rivers in full flow
rolling over rocks
rushing down the valley low
reaching the flat delta
ranging and tracing in tributaries
re-birthing as transpiration in the blue seas
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 5:59 PM UTC
...Away...
the full-bodied overran spiritedly
its cup--
fetched in movements, musical.
Impress of eyes laved
by their transpiration...
as that daylong Star that
trembles the hills--
where from in plain you come.
Sole proponent of emergence,
enfleshed pathway...
inherit thy haunts.
Whereupon lightning forks
its thunder...as a
joyous weeping dances
the thirsting rose...
the heart of the matter,
thusly enfleshed pathways
meet.
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 12:26 PM UTC
Dear one,
As the domino, I fall cascading on the drawing board. Why would one deny progression? A furtherance , the ebb and flow. I remain up beat and spirited as I read your letters. It's like a barred barricade is being lifted.Your glowing light is charging me. Certainty is liberating, the riding of the waves have become a skill that I have engrossed. The tides spread from shore to shore and I must anchor. I am ever grateful for your deliberation in regard to my current affairs. Your magnanimity is greatly appreciated.
As I am
Enormous, bountifulness of free spirit. Episodes of taciturnity alternated by sequences of thrill are remarkably felt. The higher level linking is simultaneous , coordinated and equidistant. As life propels, years progress a resemblance of energy is greatly congruent. The conforming compatibility of the absolute is evident. Transpiration of what once known yet unknown surfaces, erupts and consolidates a new meaning. A renewed existence, a recovered emergence solidifies. These moments are so evident, abundantly and vehemently felt on every fibre,bone and muscle of my being. Right to the core of my soul, my very existence.
On the tangent of thoughts........"J" the jewel... the forgotten treasure. What happened to the nature trueness that stroked your mind? The non win compromises aren't spontaneous. We must realign.... we must.
Vous êtes magnifiquement merveilleux et excellent en tous les moyens possible.
You sure do give me the butterflies......
You hold me in skies high above.
I can't control the butterflies.........
Is it just a flutter ?
To progress as you progress.....
SassyJ
Inspired by........
Natasha Bedingfield (Soulmate)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P27MPi3ZhCg
Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 2:35 PM UTC
the cigarette smoke hang in the air like
tropical transpiration.
dancing, dipping, she hung on to him tight.
flight topical sensations
starts rapid elation
to sacred vibrations.
Lovers in a lover's dance.
One in each others trance.
They form a flower of shape and motion,
and raise their smiles
like the sun
in an eastern ocean.
When, like a sudden shadow
with such outdone bravado,
a man sprung from underfoot,
from under carpet and soot,
and began to introduce himself,
his hand a continental shelf,
waiting for a shake from the lover's ocean.
Without attention, his hand slunk back to
it's bright blue breast pocket cave.
"Henry Ennui, man o' soot " he said was his name.
The lover's proclaimed "You're insane."
The words tickled Henry, like water the drain
then he let the lovers look
inside his brain
where the rain was
and the flame does
what it wants underwater
UNDERWATER:
the lovers gasped,
the ash man rasped,
pulled a pistol from his patched pants,
and proceeded to shoot them both.
Jan 17, 2011
Jan 17, 2011 at 7:06 PM UTC
That single leaf
looks as if it has some grey in it's green
because the clouds in the sky are obscuring the sun
overcast days polish the sun white
and the dusty leaf hangs
looking like it will last
it would be cool to the touch
and bitter on the tongue
it's transpiration
those sweaty lungs
there are a thousand
a few bunches orange
a few brown still hanging from the branches
there are four thousand fallen
crunchy like baked chips
breathing no more
leaves number 997, 998, 999
hang from branch number 8
during the 4th hour of a day in the second millennium of man
a dark night spins dreams simultaneously
and a single dream leaf contains a record of eternity past
like an old friend who suddenly knows magic
and reads shakespeare
leaf 998 is a streak of ink
on the pages of life
like a glorious ray of sunshine
peeking it's head
into the future, heaven
like slipping between the curtains of the present
breathing for tree 700,237,112
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 10:49 PM UTC
When he is sad,
My tears are just watery entities,
And my lips are chapped laments
That wish to kiss him on his porcelain cheek
And send him to an unspoken bliss.
When he is sad,
My whole world
Is an electric madness
That I dare not live,
But grieve over.
I hope to never see him cry
But when a somber tear be shed,
I will immerse myself
In a pain that goes on forevermore;
I will hug him with a fond embrace.
His sadness is a grief
That cannot be spoken by a sensitive heart like I,
For I would sunder in yonder
April skies.
I am in love with him
And it's so strange...
Such an intricate force
That has never been.
It's like my heart and mind's
Devotion, humanity, and passion
Depends upon him.
When he laughs,
When he is a jovial friend and brother of mine,
We are beautiful.
We laugh and, at last,
Have sought the sublime, refreshing youth
That brings us closer.
When he smiles at me,
A fascinating transpiration is then reborn,
And it is stunning.
It's like we will never die.
Nevermore, my days of beauty,
Laughter, and fascination will soon be,
For he is leaving my heart that beats a serenade
In time with his beautiful face's cry.
He is leaving for Annandale,
And he leaves me with a tear upon my face.
He will leave, taking with him
The sublimity I never can gaze upon so fondly again
After the grey of June that I so devotedly
Fear.
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 1:40 PM UTC
Did you know that into the last glass of water that you sipped?
A dinosaur one day, may have bent down and dipped
A scaly tongue to quench his thirst
Or even lumbered in feet first
As he and his primeval pal recreated
In the prehistoric stream of this life-giving liquid
Which revives the lives today of all women and of men
For it’s the very same water now, as it was way back then.
How can it be that you and me,
Drink the same water again, that they did back then?
Well it’s no fluke or chance of creation
Take a look at this cycle for a simple explanation
The sun warms the ocean and this causes evaporation
Vapours condense into clouds, this causes precipitation
That’s rain to you and me as it falls down from the sky,
But precipitation is not the only reason why
Our streams fill and sometimes overflow,
Becoming rivers as they grow,
Liquid life in poetry of motions
Rivers turn to seas, ebb and flow into the oceans.
For the sun doesn’t just affect the seas and the ocean,
It heats the leaves of our trees and this causes transpiration
Because vapour also rises from the trees,
Clouds form and may even freeze,
In these clouds tiny droplets bounce around,
Fun for them but not for us on the ground
For when they hit each other, they stick together
And this has repercussions for our weather
What goes up must come down
And soon rain or hail will fall on every town
With storm and sleet on every street and gutters overflowing.
Rains lash, puddles splash and before long it’s snowing.
The levels rise in all our lakes,
But then thank God, the cloud breaks
The sun warms the ocean this causes evaporation
And he begins his work again to feed a thirsty nation.
We survey the Earth, water end to end
But it’s the same ole water, recycled again and again
Water, water is everywhere but less than 2% is drinkable,
Preserve, conserve and do take care, because pollution really is unthinkable.
Where to begin to save our water, is plain to see, it all begins with you and me.
Aug 17, 2011
Aug 17, 2011 at 12:02 PM UTC
Never forget being a human..
Most times in the quest and dedication of things brought about by imagination we forget the art of being human, it will be too great a catastrophe to loose humanity completely...
Stagnation is the primal curse..
Stagnation can be confused.
Not moving is stagnation, which is bad..
But..
Moving in one direction,
disregarding other aspect is stagnation.
Excessive obsession is worst.
Not looking back is terrible..
Not looking forward is detrimental..
Not in the present is dilutions..
In this Sense focus is misappropriated...
Everything is dilutional except the art of being human..
Humanity... Is
Consideration..
Accommodation..
Moderation..
Adaptation.
Reproduction..
Transpiration.
Respiration.
Transformation..
Aspiration..
Imagination.
So on the list travels into the desert of words unsaid...
Disregarding any of these is inhumane..
Excessive obsession on any of these is inhumane..
Countless bygone civilization of ages dissipates into the abyss of inhumane and never returned..
Jul 13, 2023
Jul 13, 2023 at 8:50 AM UTC
You are like Water on Earth moving continuously through the water cycle of evaporation and transpiration (evapotranspiration), condensation, precipitation, and then run off, usually reaching the sea to my heart. Evaporation from one and transpiration to another contribute to the precipitation over land(my life). Like Water you are used in the production of a good or service is known as the virtual you.
Safely drinking you is essential to me and other lifeforms even though it provides no calories or organic nutrients. Access to safe drinking you has improved over the last years in almost every part of my world, even though approximately one billion people still lack access to you and over 2.5 billion have access to adequate sanitation.
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 6:52 PM UTC
Everything happens for a reason,
No matter the time of day or season.
Whether it be good or bad,
No need to be mad or sad.
These emotions will waste your focus,
In due time you will notice,
How distracting they can be.
Close your eyes and you will see.
Think of things that bring you joy,
Not of things that stress and annoy,
When times are hard and you are low,
Destiny will appear and show,
The reason for the transpiration,
No need for contemplation.
Everything will be okay,
Time goes on, day to day,
Make a reason for yourself,
Rescue your emotional health,
Keep on trekking, go the farthest,
Change the stars, you're the artist.
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 8:20 PM UTC
Rancune,
Renflement d'un cauchemar vampirique
Je me ronge les ongles, puis
Je ferme les yeux
Que vois-je?
L'art
Le virevoltant vert,
Mousse et fougère
Puis le sang,
Une éclaboussure de mort et d'entrailles de poisson
Nourris-moi aux vers
Laisse mes yeux aux corbeaux
Pissenlit maléfique
Une odeur impassible,
Dans une nature grandiose
Quoiqu'incompréhensible
J'inspire la poussière,
Épine d'une plante pacifique, inondée
Au bout du rocher là
À l'horizon
Rejoins les étoiles
La noirceur d'un épilogue,
Continuation de mille contes
Sans transpiration d'une réelle émotion
Remue les orteils de ta jeunesse,
Et réinvente l'univers
Être à l'abandon,
Isolement et sacrilège d'une fréquence,
À pain garni de sucré
J'imagine une confiance
Enfuis-toi,
Enfuis-toi **** de moi
Avant que je te défigure,
Avant que je te coupe,
Avant que je cherche à l'infini
Pour l'affection d'une malheureuse
Dec 12, 2020
Dec 12, 2020 at 4:27 PM UTC
The wind is offering riddles this warm October morning , are we not like plants , distant cousins nourished from sun above , soil below , rays of light , tied down to a minuscule piece of ground , awaiting our ultimate fate , transpiration . Returned to the clouds ? Renewed . Establishing roots in the place we call home , bathed in sunlight and hopeful for tomorrow ..
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 11:36 AM UTC
long clouds the puffy ones
the jet vapors the transient work into the
atmosphere and disappear
the dark ones the threatening
the clown like
cartoon things
work the wills
and the imagining
long suffered hopes
of all of us
quite the vaporous
puffy memory of dreams
and hopes
vapid
with liquid moist
molecular transpiration and lust
just soft water dispersed into air
like hopes and love
floating above the
atmosphere where
we long desire to be a
tiny thing interspersed
with all
and free
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 1:29 AM UTC