"treacherously" poems
In his dreams the Vally in the throes of efflorescence call out
in a language heart alone understands;
from the hanging bridge over Ganga, he views the ice-capped peaks,
Vally's ***** extravagance and the river's turbulence.
The river runs too deep, at times he finds,
the currents treacherously strong,
from the window of his *Ashram, the view is clear.
She bathes naked, alone on a step submerged in water,
eyes feast on her moonlit curves,
the pleasures skin deep, camouflage the existential dilemmas ! he smiles
In memory his Guru speaks:"Eat only those fruits that make one immortal"
Yet another Himalayan journey in search of the fruit tree unknown
It's too late to redefine, life and love when the avalanche thunders above
on his lonesome path, every step uphill is fraught with slippery stones,
one way leads to the top, to bathe in the light of the star reaching down
Some days end in too long nights, too cold, the sun shows up hesitant,
her body has the warmth that reaches to his icy depths,
a ****** alone could penetrate, but it still wouldn't melt
Himalayan silence, chant of Ganga, the ghost of a ******
that follows him like a faithful dog, are all these fragments of a dream
or realities stringed together from many different planes?
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 1:26 AM UTC
Who knew that getting a Starbucks gift card would turn out so harmful and mean.
When pleasant, harmless, innocent me fell for the spell of treacherous caffeine.
Like a hype with a spike
doing harm to his arm
I was hooked.
Leaped before I looked,
goose was cooked.
Now I'm here to play the blame game.
Innocent me, walking in free, joyfully,
just getting a coffee.
Then wham!
or should I say bam!
It hit me.
I walked out a quivering, craving, slobbering creature...
maybe not literally but like I said it was done treacherously, maliciously, instantaneously, I was a caffeine *****
So here are some of the reasons why I'm unhappy with Starbucks:
--- Starbucks caffeine influenced my body by elevating my heart rate (I'm not sure why I expected anything different).
--- Starbucks crafty, subtley and slyly habitualized me ( Oh god, I'm a creature of habit!)
--- Starbucks (If possible) is too friendly
--- Starbucks manipulated my accommodating nature (I just wanted to be friends, but now they feel more like, dare I say it... family).
--- Starbucks slandered me ( by assuming I'm lazy. "Sit, relax, make yourself at home, stay as long as you like").
--- Starbucks exposed my weaknesses ( l feel naked to coffees influence).
--- Starbucks made coffee hip and cool (I'm going to go ahead and count that as a bad thing).
--- Starbucks crippled my will power (my will power walks with a limp now).
--- Starbucks blew up the sun!
--- And the final reason I'm unhappy with Starbucks...because they're probably going to sue my *** for writing this!
May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 4:44 PM UTC
Wandering, aimlessly trying to fall in love with the idea that you love me.
Chaos came and went with each passing breath we took.
Because loving you was beautiful.
Because loving you was madness.
Wandering, treacherously falling apart with the idea that you still love me.
Hope came and went with each rising of the sunset.
Because loving you was the only thing I knew at the time.
Because loving you would be my death if I let it.
Wandering... Aimlessly.... Wishing you still loved me.
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 9:52 PM UTC
Hands deal treacherously,
The wind brushes the ferns;
Calamity.
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 3:58 PM UTC
treacherously torrid and torrential torrents of totally tangential tumultuous tortuous ; tyrannically torturous adjunct viably salient seethe.
procrastinating pandemic plenipotentiary prosthesis ; prosaically pragmatic parenthetical predication predilection premise prognostication
panoramic tableau preternatural propensity proclivity prestidigitation gesticulation :
gyration guidon ; ghastly gruesome grotesque hideously horrible horrendous heinous
grotty gnarly
diabolically maniacal dementia brusque macabre abrupt
awful
amalgamated anathema analysis agnate aggregate aberrance
somatalogy virtuoso cognate obduracy
worse
rudiment ebullience , confluence effluent effusion affluent , prolific profusity opulence , cogent fecund secular secund , recondite redolence abstrusely obstreperous mesomerism resonance resilience
protractive perpetude futurity
blither blandishing blabber burnishing boresome blahs
lithe blithe jabber prattle chatter tithe
morose morsel moribundness
stolid stoic
stalwart bastion bulwark
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 5:45 PM UTC
Treacherously torrid torrential tempestuous
The warrior on the mountain confessed to us
Sordid sully suborn salacious
Only the worst will ever keep pace with us
In extremis extremity exigence exodus
Is the answer clear to all of us
Intuitional intrepid impetus intrigue
Spontaneity's tortoise trauma fatigue
Heuristic horizon hornswoggle huckster
Or just another cauldron muck stir
Mystical magical manumission mandate
That only the good would ever relate date
Fornicating fecund finite's fate
I can only hope it will be I rate
Tirade treatise's transpicuous treachery
Adjunct juxtaposition may get the best of me
Estranged ensemble's ethereal expletive
Won't be contained, like water in a sieve
Wanton wayward warrantee wrangled
And all of that surreal newfangled
Omnipresent omnificent omniscient omnipotence
How I wish I could float its boat sense
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 5:54 AM UTC
Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove,
Of golden sand, and crystal brooks,
With silken lines and silver hooks.
There will the river whispering run,
Warmed by thy eyes more than the sun.
And there the enamoured fish will stay.
Begging themselves they may betray.
When wilt thou swim in that live bath,
Each fish, which every channel hath,
Will amorously to thee swim,
Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.
If thou, to be so seen, beest loath,
By sun or moon, thou dark’nest both;
And if myself have leave to see,
I need not their light, having thee.
Let others freeze with angling reeds,
And cut their legs with shells and weeds,
Or treacherously poor fish beset
With strangling snare, or windowy net.
Let course bold hand from slimy nest
The bedded fish in banks out-wrest,
Or curious traitors, sleave-silk flies,
Bewitch poor fishes’ wandering eyes.
For thee, thou need’st no such deceit,
For thou thyself are thine own bait;
That fish that is not catched thereby,
Alas, is wiser far than I.
1.8k
Swimming alone in my ocean...
In search of courage
drenched and drowned
in cowardice.
I have ample foothold,
for now...
Taunting the winds
that whistled treacherously
on this precipice.
Ears to the air
I hear the faint calling
of a lone zephyr
in the traveling winds
of tomorrow.
A smile emerges.
Forgetting the uncertainties,
the shame
and the unforgiving sorrow...
Bewitched and determined
to catch this breeze
that briefly promised salvation.
Brushed away the tears,
emotional inadequacies
and lifelong trepidation.
My lips parted...
Inhaling deep
what once,
for a long time felt acrid.
Eyes closed.
I greeted the whispers
that spoke of the end.
I've wished to be amongst
the choral voices
that sang
not of strangers
but friends.
The time is now.
I've conveniently forgotten
what and who I am...
Knowing only where I want to be.
I've found courage.
I took one step
into the future.
And finally...
I'm free.
Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 7:23 AM UTC
*i find the crow more eloquent,
more treacherously abiding
a fulfilment of aesthetic investigations
when walking, the crow
more beautiful than in flight,
unlike the sparrows' comic grounding,
with its epileptic quick-step twitchy
caoutchouc trot... poetically drawn
as: huh?! huh?! chirp. huh?! huh?! chirp;
really quickly.*
the only way to transition back into
the humanities from learning science,
******** p... chemistry and physics,
from these two into the humanities:
because you wrote a high standard
sociology essay plagiarising trying to
beat the anti-plagiarism logarithm
imposed... and that camus' l'étranger
also written to a 1st in the degree hierarchy...
the only transition from the sciences
to humanities is with philosophy,
which is a qausi-humanism...
mind you... edinburgh is the last gothic city,
and scotland the only place
where university can be like high school,
diverse, equipping you with many choices,
you can major chemistry, but understudy
computing, french, history, sociology, etc.
so in the background you have my favourite
theorisation: friedel-craft's alkylation & acylation /
effects of substitution on the beneze ring properties:
ortho (β) / para (ν) directing goups...
meta (π) directing groups... ipso (α) directed
at dislodging the algebraic x already attached...
i was never going to write cute poetry...
lessons in inductive effects of σ-bonds orientation
controlled by resonate (of) π-bonds...
the faustian myth continues without cute goethe rhyme.
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 12:51 PM UTC
I caught lightning in your bottle,
and I swallowed it whole.
So torrid and treacherously lit,
I became the kind of something
you taught yourself to run from.
Skin tight and white hot,
I radiate light from all angles;
buzzing with fluorescence.
With my fingertips brightening
the curves of your lips,
I trace that familiar fine line
between your fear and fascination.
In a single crack across the sky,
I will set your darkness ablaze
and leave you with
a deafening boom of clarity.
Jolted and stunned, you take in
an infinite illumination,
devouring every inch of
the unknown color and wonder
once shadowed by your thick,
murky doubt.
Blink, and it disappears
as quickly as it came to be.
What you see, you can’t forget.
As the spots dance, staccato
in front of your eyes,
you run, just as you taught yourself,
fast and far, away from the light;
disenchanted once again,
as you recall the fact that
lightning never strikes
the same place twice.
the same place twice.
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 12:03 PM UTC
Focus deeply into the historical crevices of granite Scottish castles, because
secrets lie within the virginity of undiscovered mockery.
Therefore, my friend, plant your vegetation and cultivate the ground, where spiritual significance is a mere contemporary homage to something that is treacherously misunderstood.
Spin the wheels of fortune, and never forget the importance of baking bread at the correct temperature.
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:28 PM UTC
I can't really say for sure if I ever knew true love, because I have never understood a clear definition of what it is. I see in the movies - guy meets girl, woos her, they fall in love & live happily ever after; I see family / friends seemingly in love but bickering, fighting, unfortunately sometimes never reconciling. I can truthfully say I have known many loves in its innumerable forms. I have opened my heart only to close it again due to fear, uncertainty, doubt or deceit. I have promised my undying love to not just a few, only to steal my heart back treacherously as if it would cause them no pain. How could it possibly - they lived successfully before they knew or loved me - yet, what if it did? and why am I so "numb" to that pain. Why don't I feel the sting of ripping my OWN heart out of my OWN chest and trampling it every time someone tries to love me? I don't want to be loved - because that leaves me vulnerable to getting hurt.
But I DO want to be loved - God only knows where I'll find it.
© 2012
Jul 4, 2012
Jul 4, 2012 at 1:34 AM UTC
This anger...
Feels like a ball of uncontrollable energy that spins treacherously in the pit of my stomach.
It is unbound and reaches out forcefully in every axis. It is self-sustaining. And it consumes...
All of me...
It's doesn't want to be displaced, or swept under the rug for the umpteenth time. It doesn't want to be cajoled or calmed. It doesn't want to be coaxed into thinking that it does not need to rear its ugly head because I believe I have a handle on things; which I clearly do not.
It knows me too well and will not take it lying down.
It wants acknowledgement and it wants to speak.
It wants to speak in a low guttural voice for the sheer purpose of intimidation.
It wants grow in figurative size to assert its validation.
It wants to absorb every form of negativity and use it to fuel the fight.
It wants to take the faintest pin-prick or papercut to the most painful stab in the heart and use them...
Harness them and then...
Explode in a hundred-mile radius.
This anger is real...
And it has had enough of sitting on the bench.
Now it wants a piece of the action...
And this time I let it.
Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 10:49 AM UTC
Glinting amber topaz...
Ebony orbs...
black satin lashes....
against sepia skin...
you look into me...
I've never seen such undescribable color...
The rawness mirrors your intensity....
So dangerously intoxicating...
treacherously forbidden....
I drown in you....
Our gaze locks...
I'm done in moments...
Drawn to the darkest parts ....
of you against me...
The henna sparkle...
Topaz shimmer....
Promising me destruction....
Feelings that I've never known....
Only to come back again...
E.J.M.
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 10:19 AM UTC
The feminine voice finds many ways to my ear
It conceals its muffled words in droplets of water
Brushes against me while in tow of unknowing winds
Shrieking whispers invade my solitude
Masters of disguises invisible to young eyes.
I can never fall asleep as gently as I once could
Drifting into the safe havens has become a rough journey
Dreams have become a great escape rather than a warm embrace
Through battle they have my eyes hostage
By their command they unwillingly disallow rest.
As butterflies caught in a storm, my eyes flutter manically in their cage
In closed lids they pry and scratch in search of escape.
Never ceasing to stop looking they trap me in this limbo
Almost treacherously aiding the sexless voiced general
In his raiding my humanity for feelings to satisfy his troops hunger.
But they are disappointed more often than not
Self ruining feelings are all this soulless ghost army craves
A delicacy they tasted in me and fed on in greed
I am sorry, dear enemy, your momentary pleasure is over
This storage is running low from frequent raids of provoked panic and emotion.
This war has been long, and no longer appears a battle
More a dance well practiced, predictable every night
You have eaten all of what you desired, but fear not I have something left
Without catch nor trickery I give to you a message of kindness and savior-
It reads Your hunger will bring starvation
So let me sleep, or continue your attacks to your downfall.
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC
Dissolving trust to dust
Evading truthful reality
Cheating and mistrust
Eroding all integrity
Illusion of being a friend
Treacherously condescends
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 3:34 PM UTC
no cliche flowers,
petals ripped off and stuffed
under our naked bodies.
no sweet nothings whispered
into the deepest crevices of my ears.
no, nothing but
ratty floral couch
under freezing toes,
and silent breathing
-we didnt want to wake up his friends parents-
it didnt hurt,
he moved my body like i was the ocean
tide
pulling in and out
it felt like a mixture of cold
disbelief and riveting
ecstasy.
he didnt even know it was my first time,
and when i told him later, poison almost
visibly dripped down his lips,
but he was quick to **** it back in and sugarcoat
it with honey flavored chapstick.
and i'm not saying i regret it
because it was nice.
but "nice" is not enough for Chandra Lunah Moore.
and afterwards, when he tried to lock me to the small
foam and spring innards
couch
with his soft legs glowing golden with the help of an
off-kilter lamp in the corner,
when my muscles strained against his,
i knew the frightening power of human
desire.
how when he didnt offer a drag from his
cigarette
at all afterwards, just ****** at it needily,
all for himself,
didnt drape his jacket around my
treacherously shivering shoulders
like he had on the walk there,
didnt carry me the rest of the way,
stomping through the snow,
lips bitter after two long drags
off a joint,
he didnt hold me like he did so many times before,
(almost like he believed he was heavier with the weight of my
saved up childhood, like some kind of bank account. life savings,
dragging on his shoulders, making them, sag. skin heavy with my touch.
and i was lighter, without it.
i could walk.
he was obviously carrying the real burden.)
i knew, when he kissed me goodbye and it tasted like
a
wasted night
spent on not getting what he
wanted
i knew he was meaningless and i would
never again settle for
just
nice.
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 1:27 AM UTC
{I can live life unfiltered.
I preen and uncover the riotous feathers
I always felt I had to tuck away.
When I cause those laughs,
or at the very least, those grins,
it seems suddenly, I have swallowed
something much like the sun—
all of the lit space in its seams,
and I become bright,
unchallenged, and with purpose.
I live life proudly and profoundly undressed.
To feel comfortable in my own skin
will never be this natural in any other context.
I am rarely a creature of grace, but
when I feel those fingers
run down the length of my bare back,
I become a word so treacherously beautiful,
writers are too hesitant to pen it.
Wrapped up in those arms,
I find that I fit; I’m home; I’m safe.
I get an unmatched pleasure out of
watching such a mind work—
in awe of how it knows when things fit together,
the way it peels, layers, creates, and stimulates.
No, seriously though, the mind thing?
[Nothing turns me on more.]
The same fears are shared—
of living a cliché and settling,
of pain and disfigurement,
but mostly of
endings.
I find contentment
in simply being held in the
silent repose of the morning
before my small world is awake,
and the street lamps are still
competing with the dawn.
It’s occurred to me that this has
made me into something marvelous
I didn’t know existed. }
Just know,
why I keep you around can’t be explained
johnny-on-the-spot.
See, when asked,
my little heart crescendos, and all of the words
rush to tangle on the back of my tongue.
I pull the phrases out, word by word,
and string them the way
they were meant to be read.
Don't be discouraged
by an answer of “I don’t know.”
It sometimes buys
the necessary time
for one to display the whole truth—
one that that lovely, whiskey-soaked head
can’t fully comprehend in that moment.
But maybe,
I keep you around
simply
because.
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 12:25 PM UTC
I climb. Although a harsh wind and sleet sweeps
these hills, my temperament remains steady.
Although the path is treacherously steep
I have been thoughtful, I have come ready.
The footfall here is few and far between
and some who came to conquer, could not cope.
As I push on past the point where they've been,
I look into a mist that holds my hope.
Joy lies beyond a helm wind of despair
and must be battled with to be surpassed.
I will prevail here knowing that it's there.
I’ll conquer fell and fall so I’ll be passed
to where tranquillity abounds below,
throughout the valleys of the rain shadow.
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 6:07 AM UTC
Treacherously torrid torrential tempestuous
The warrior on the mountain confessed to us
Sordid sully suborn salacious
Only the worst will ever keep pace with us
In extremis extremity exigence exodus
Is the answer clear to all of us
Intuitional intrepid impetus intrigue
Spontaneity's tortoise trauma fatigue
Heuristic horizon hornswoggle huckster
Or just another cauldron muck stir
Mystical magical manumission mandate
That only the good would ever relate date
Fornicating fecund finite's fate
I can only hope it will be I rate
Tirade treatise's transpicuous treachery
Adjunct juxtaposition may get the best of me
Estranged ensemble's ethereal expletive
Won't be contained, like water in a sieve
Wanton wayward warrantee wrangled
And all of that surreal newfangled
Omnipresent omnificent omniscient omnipotence
How I wish I could float its boat sense
Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 2:13 AM UTC
you covered
your deceiving sentences
in pretty paper,
letting the gold flecks
blind the careful,
truth-seeking eye.
each fold you made
masked the truth
even further;
the edges too thick
to tear through.
you made lying
an art.
perfecting your trickery
with each crease;
simulating
the false concern
on your brow.
how many steps
did you take to hide
your intentions
or your secrets?
how many incisions
did you make
on your victims?
relationships
are supposed to be
beautiful demonstrations
of life;
not crumpled up
pieces of false hope
& fake actions,
curated to bend
at your command.
i tried to keep track
of what moves you made
so that i could make sure
you wouldn’t repeat them
on me.
but your nimble, paper cut
fingers moved too fast,
& before i knew it,
i was trapped in a suffocating
paper thin, paper-slicing
maze.
if only i had the scissors
to cut myself out of this pointy mess.
but once i unfolded one lie,
the rest unraveled before me
til there was just one
piece of paper
with the marks
showing where i
could have caught you out.
look at all those little lies folded up
into something so intricate
that looked treacherously beautiful
from the outside,
but was simple & sinister from the start.
you contorted me into myself,
creating an aesthetic crane.
but i learnt to fly out of my cage,
& out of your clasp.
i won’t be pleated
into an origami opus
for you to
display & deride.
i am not your paper to fold or decorate.
Jun 5, 2019
Jun 5, 2019 at 6:21 PM UTC
Treacherously torrid torrential tempestuous
The warrior on the mountain confessed to us
Sordid sully suborn salacious
Only the worst will ever keep pace with us
In extremis extremity exigence exodus
Is the answer clear to all of us
Intuitional intrepid impetus intrigue
Spontaneity's tortoise trauma fatigue
Heuristic horizon hornswoggle huckster
Or just another cauldron muck stir
Mystical magical manumission mandate
That only the good would ever relate date
Fornicating fecund finite's fate
I can only hope it will be I rate
Tirade treatise's transpicuous treachery
Adjunct juxtaposition may get the best of me
Estranged ensemble's ethereal expletive
Won't be contained, like water in a sieve
Wanton wayward warrantee wrangled
And all of that surreal newfangled
Omnipresent omnificent omniscient omnipotence
How I wish I could float its boat sense
Aug 19, 2019
Aug 19, 2019 at 12:08 PM UTC