"ubiquity" poems
**he promised her things that only God could give yet with all of her whole, she believed:
because love was their (arcane) goal**
to them love was the roses, chocolates and the ever so cute 'goodnight' texts. it was the tiny 'XO's at the end of every love letter and the irresistible kisses on a bad day. it was them hiding under the sheets, ardently sharing every secret ever known to the world because the world that they knew was in their robust palms.
little did they know that love was also the screams on a terrible day, the tears of a tortuous heartbreak and the piercing 'goodbye's after repeated arguments. it was the shredding of past love letters, the tearing of photographs and the burning of every remembered moment that was reminiscently shared in the creases of their hands (or their clenched fists).
soon, the little lovebirds turned into fiery ravens because love was inexorable
-- it was the wings that made them fly (in which direction it did not matter). the "lovers" chose to fly anyway because ultimately, love reminded them of the misplaced souls that they possessed.
(( though love only taught them of the ubiquity of hatred within them ))
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 12:31 PM UTC
I picked up flowers in my garden before first days of autumn, dried to save them from black magic of winter and cold breaths of sky. I put them between warm rays on my windowsills in arms of cozy home to bring spirit of life forever in their bones. I saved compositions of their scent on my lips, so you will feel endless, enigmatic, healing symphony in my kiss. I will leave sweet taste in your mouth little by little until dark mirror of your thoughts and wounds break into innocent fields of flowers full of butterflies and indispensable, clear-eyed raconteur of happiness speaking in every fragile petal silences your fleeting and long-lasting demons endowing your shadow with seductive light, tiredness with aliveness of grass, broken dreams with ubiquity of creation, fears with ineffable tranquility. This is how I love you. I will save you from the worst. I will never let you die inside no matter how cold are your days. I will fill your soul with air of metaphysical love of past eras and magic of innumerable, free-flowing joys not based on any circumstances. I will fill your thoughts with romantic myths and insatiable fantasies and old-fashioned poems. I will cover you to sleep with my dragonfly soul no matter how cold life could be.
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 4:13 PM UTC
Extravagantly exorbitant mentality panacea
Pretentious eidetic’s ubiquity mnemonics
Extraversion embezzlement extortion mens rea
Endergonic laconic cacophony phonics
Preterite rendition enclitic equilibrist motion
Mystic symbiosis dharma spiritual sky
Brusque macabre abjections the gist of the potion
Straight up forever ontology on high
Obdurately abstruse vituperatively vociferous
Juxtaposition apparition myriad avarice
Orotund sonorous diction obliquitous
Multifariously versatile nefarious nemesis
Mirador bartizan phantasmagoria aesthetics
Guidon gyration excursion integration
Sorcerous alchemizing interstitial endemics
Chaos charisma objectified tribulation
Conjurous apothegms clitoral apomixis
Exude emote surrogate extrapolation
Astral projection littoral hypotaxis
Kinetic supremacy homogeneity gravitation
Coercible coalescent cohesion dexterities
Adjunct conjunction conjecture acuity
Platonic pragmatic prosaic austerities
Extemporaneous impromptu innuendo fortuity
Propinquity habitation harbinger spectra
Perplexing paradox tenacity rostra
Intensely cogitational abstract mantra
Penumbral exigency , umbrage per contra
Theoretical incursion grandiloquent ne plus ultra
Exogamy of homoplasy sic itur ad astra
Quiescent serendipity surreal anestra
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 6:16 AM UTC
lifted up inside
eyes and mouth widely grinning
hands clap together
anticipation rising
going through the whole body
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 6:52 AM UTC
stab in the belly
cravings for the forbidden
quiet resentment
constant comparing to you
always unattainable
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 5:12 AM UTC
stroking your soft head
a quick kiss before I go
fresh soup when you're ill
the way your brown eyes soften
when you see my emotion
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 11:17 AM UTC
eyes darting, searching
desperate for some clarity
wrinkling furrowed brow
jumbled words, meanings, symbols
aching within the forehead
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 12:46 PM UTC
Fertile earth’s seductive sorcery
Like ephemeral effulgence’s effluent effusion
Can lead you to believe that it’s not a travesty
Like life’s visceral intuitive eternal is not lost in subtle evasive confusion
Life’s virile translucence reflects this glow
Like an aorist ensemble of interludes transposition
Can lead you to believe that you’re in the know
Like omnipresence presages omniscience’s ubiquity is existential exigency’s peroration’s exposition
Corporeally preternatural metaphysical mystique
Like a mirador bartizan tableau panorama
Can inspire us to rise above its critique
Like spatiotemporal’s telemetry incarnate is creation’s vivid intrepid cyclorama
Spectral verve’s liaison’s consortium
Like eclectic synectic’s conclave’s fatidic
Can leave you lost in germane compendium
Like terminus thrall’s apriori inclination is transcendental accession’s endemic mnemonic
Monad’s transitional majestic splendor
Like residual harmonic vibration’s resilience
Can autonomously evoke and vicariously render
Like rubato’s actuator’s prospectus revealed is orchestration rendition’s intriguing brilliance
Eidetic preterit’s aesthetic amendments
Like protractive analyses’ dimensional delineation
Can lead to cogent salacious enticements
Like phantasmagoria’s fantasia fantastication’s magniloquence is sultry solace’s ostentatious ideation
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 8:07 PM UTC
he plucks orange leaves
orange is his favourite shade
rain seeps through the soil
harvest brings food aplenty
flavours: pumpkin, cinnamon
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 9:59 AM UTC
chest lifting with breaths
eyes and brows diagonal
mind clouding over
fists clenched and lightly trembling
blood rising up through the skin
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 1:18 PM UTC
~
*black tie, bare feet,
a walk through dandelions,
following the scent of wine
and mirthful promise
phosphenes and paresthesia
—slow dazzle motif;
the bluebird of happiness
echoes in a shallow bay;
pieces of places to claim as theirs:
moth wings, flower petals,
and blades of grass
seduced by eventide,
unhurried mouth(s), lips searching
and soft, all words seem to have
a few extra vowels;
sudden ubiquity
to collisions and slippages,
cultivating suggestive shapes
from aleatory arrays
of objects and forms
in the surf they mingle and link,
emancipating adrenaline;
they love like they were
water for life*
~
Apr 17, 2023
Apr 17, 2023 at 5:11 PM UTC
her breath frosts the grass
she sings high-pitched but softly
earth is calm and still
fingertips brush roof edges
leaving fresh glass icicles
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 1:42 PM UTC
Madly-
I am missing you:
As surely as the meadow covets the soft embrace
of morning dew;
as sure as the sky slowly awakens its canvas
to the suns soft stroke of salmon pinks
and crimson reds, light magenta's, oranges,
amber's, and pale silk Persian blues.
In these moments of absence, I am,
in more than one way,
completely enraptured by the thought of you.
Your loveliness, your smile, your kiss,
your magnificently adorned brown bluish green speckled eyes,
undulate in my thoughts brightly like moonlit folds
of surf crashing into the core of me:
slowly soaking through the sandy shores
of my equally undulant, brisk, and fluttering heart.
Then, as an off shore breeze crosses tenderly about
my waist and fingertips, seductively enveloping me,
I am reminded of how closely we laid:
Tangled beneath our blanket of fervor,
side by side, with a mutual breath of passion
as excitement cascaded through our paralleled sensoriums
and quickly translated into a fiery touch of the lips,
as a fervid scratch of the hips,
and finally into a shared exhale of relief
as if to whisper to one another “come closer, be mine.”
Still, even as these grains of memories feather effortlessly
down into my thoughts like the sands of an endless hourglass
encased with the echo of your inviting voice
enchanting me with sweet nothings,
I am left with a yearning for your physical presence.
I want you here.
Time inches along and as I slowly lie my head down to sleep,
hands clasped shut between pillow and ear,
I am, in my thoughts again, reminded of your ubiquity,
of your enamoring effect on me,
of how no matter the distance nor the time between,
baby you are here, captivating my thoughts
-madly.
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 11:51 PM UTC
Seasoned Love's silent discourse,
Dusk of the long distance,
Beneath the mantle of lament
The peak bloom, gnawing decay,
Obscure
The weight of favor;
Annealing fire, moulded by
Winds of duration
Unfastening the raw surf of sorrow.
Incipient caprice, theft of occlusion
Colored by common defiance,
Vile tremors of privation-
Native enclave,
The province of
Vacant, age-eaten elucidation.
The tangled weave, pathos and ethos
Vested
Interior acquisition,
Furrowed paths of countenance
Evincive and drawn,
Affinity found, inhabiting the palisades
Of Immersion.
A furtive glance harbors
The trained gaze whose
Immanent flame-
Emergent
Serous source,
Imbued piercing latency;
A taste of
The fountainhead.
Unprobed theater of the absolute.
Thin supple pith
Identity sealed in skin
Perambulator of meaning and
Lineaments of cure.
Bearing the image of ubiquity
Perceives in the other,
Immortality.
Sacramental Eros,
Subsumes the
Capacity to treasure.
©2013 W.S. Warner
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:51 AM UTC
lost in the darkness
no mind, no morals, no me
something, anything
fearing present and future
clutch at maybes, broken nails
Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 3:49 AM UTC
I remember the first time
I fell in love
Unconditionally
Caught up in a sudden change
Of the atmosphere
Trapped in the perilous mood swings
Of the universe
With its unforgiving glow
Speckled diamonds
Drunken beauty
The night sky,
Dripping from the solar system
And drenching the Earth
In it's everlasting nostalgia
Darling night,
I'll never know of love
If I can no longer feel you
Between my fingers
You fill the empty spaces
Like a secret lover
hidden
in bed sheets and liquor drawers
I search for you everywhere
Finding you in places
you don't belong
Like a child
in a candy store
Or an addict
in a mental ward
I find myself lost in you
But not wanting to be found
quite yet
You are the dance I'll never learn
The poem I'll never understand
The inconsistent mix of right and wrong
But I love you just the same
I'll never be able to reach you
You are meant to be free
Even when you gripped my heart
So tight
That it turned into star-dust
And scattered everywhere
On that dark canvas
I hope you can feel me too
When you glisten
With those explosive diamonds
Those brilliant flashes
Of ecstasy
I like to believe
You are signaling
to let me know
That you’re still there
And that you’ll always be there
Even when I'm not
The cosmos are all
Too knowing
But I am
Far too oblivious
So
Unravel me
Sing me your sweet song
Drown me
In your melancholy
Dearest night,
Hold me close
And never let go
For the ubiquity of you is forever
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 2:31 PM UTC
knot in the stomach
what have I done to you now?
years of memories
lips cracked and dry from biting
secrets swallowing me up
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 6:48 AM UTC
There is oblivion. There is space.
There is futility. There is ubiquity.
There is pride. There is defeat.
There is emptiness. There is resentment.
There is darkness. There is rage.
The cacophony drowns all exaggeration.
It leaves no pity, offers no fight.
There is fury, it is black.
There is fury, it does not ****
There is fury, it showers no wrath.
It rots, it stays, it rots some more.
There is hope. Hope is dying.
It bleeds away, a crimson trail.
The fury is poison, it will prevail.
Morbid humour, judicious hate.
Delightful anguish, dusty slate.
The mirror lets me walk away.
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 3:05 PM UTC
Fertile earth’s seductive sorcery
Like ephemeral effulgence’s effluent effusion
Can lead you to believe that it’s not a travesty
Like life’s visceral intuitive eternal is not lost in subtle evasive confusion
Life’s virile translucence reflects this glow
Like an aorist ensemble of interludes transposition
Can lead you to believe that you’re in the know
Like omnipresence presages omniscience’s ubiquity is existential exigency’s peroration’s exposition
Corporeally preternatural's metaphysical mystique
Like a mirador bartizan tableau panorama
Can inspire us to rise above its critique
Like spatiotemporal’s telemetry incarnate is creation’s vivid intrepid cyclorama
Spectral verve’s liaison’s consortium
Like eclectic synectic’s conclave’s fatidic
Can leave you lost in germane compendium
Like terminus thrall’s apriori inclination is transcendental accession’s endemic mnemonic
Monad’s transitional majestic splendor
Like residual harmonic vibration’s resilience
Can autonomously evoke and vicariously render
Like rubato’s actuator’s prospectus revealed is orchestration rendition’s intriguing brilliance
Eidetic preterit’s aesthetic amendments
Like protractive analyses’ dimensional delineations
Can lead to cogent salacious enticements
Like phantasmagoria’s fantasia fantastication’s magniloquence is sultry solace’s ostentatious ideation
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 2:47 AM UTC
follow the yellow brick road...
The terrible freedom unleashed by typewriters.
Condition of complexity judged without criteria.
Radical provocations. Urinals and prams. Contingent.
Anarchist aesthetic. Not truth nor beauty but freedom.
Materiality of language. Multi-hued wheel barrows.
A cuttlefish. A crate. A cassowary. A cigarette. A ******
Paratactic order. Particular phrasing. Pulsing pastiche.
An infinite conversation without resolution
as with the stupid friend who won’t shut up. Ever.
A transcendent dialectic based solely on proximity.
Ineluctable modality of the near. Only that. Buck it.
An unquiet ghost endlessly self-questioning. No answers.
Moaning in the meaning. A simple stuttering. Sibilant.
Turbulent and unpredictable as waddling wolverines.
Words that only mean whatever is seen. Juxtaposition.
Dissolving into desired dissonance. The magic chord.
Absolute verity in the experience of the fraudulent
for the same reason as the ubiquity of toothpaste.
The poem as its own universe, complete and whole,
fodder for the mind, not balm for the soul.
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 1:21 PM UTC
Poetry’s carved into her flesh,
intertwined with her ribs
and parasitic on her brain, the softest ***** now that her thrashing chest hardened.
It’s the thorn of a plastic rose, jabbing her distinct print, and
analogies crawling down to her jaw line,
sprawling at individual forks of two points; it was always only two.
Melodic qualities burgled her mind to
exist in ubiquity throughout her pores
and soiled strands of hair pinched with a tie ten centimeters from the root.
Poetry, disobedient and sovereign,
lived to spell a testimony
individual to her since no one breathed her air.
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
My definition of truth is: An action synonymously described as it happened, within this barrier of admission, an image portrays a substance, occurance, or incident. This social term can and will be deviated for manipulation, self interest, and out of blatant ignorance. In society truth is hardly colloquial in politics, media, and law; recognizing that it is used to manipulate and persuade for power, control, or materiallity. There are cases in which deception is the best choice in the longevity of a subject larger than ones self, a substance of this will and shall never occur in a mindful, intellectual, and adept utopia. Sadly, in the global aura we see as today; we lack faith, trust, and ubiquity in fault of karma, the perpetual domino effect of deception, and the ignorant facade of physical dominance. From this computer screen, the pants you are wearing, and the mind you hone are all subject to the absent, mistreated, and altered reality of honesty versus deception.
Dec 3, 2011
Dec 3, 2011 at 1:40 PM UTC
children laugh and play
the earth smiles at them softly
adults laze around
earth turns its face to the sun
summer dances slow and warm
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 3:47 AM UTC
She sat by the mainstream area,
its ubiquity reminds her of such
hunkering for a man's silhouette,
stationed and immobile, beside her.
She spun her head, noticing
how candidly dull everything, and
everyone is. Yet, realizing among
it (and them) all, it was her--
the most unfortunate of all.
She felt the solitude, for herself.
Reckoning where to go, and
what to do. Whether to blame
herself, or to curse the world
for her miserable mishap.
She needed the prowess, so
she picked up that piece
of tissue paper to write on.
She poured out,
disgorged her thoughts. And,
on that moment, for once
at least, such miserable mishap
into a blessing in disguise
had transformed to.
She became a poet,
at least for once.
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 4:19 AM UTC
ice and fire at once
fat rain washing over me
lying on the ground
soft or hard, no way to tell
everything becomes nothing
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 11:30 AM UTC