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"underlies" poems
What do you see When the flower meets your eye, What beauty must hide In visceral Versailles, In cherry tree reality... Does it mystify? The variegated countryside Does the chorus nullify The diversified into harmony What melodic elegance underlies That subjective divide Wistful of waves you fly What do you see in the cherry tree sky
0
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 9:57 AM UTC
Bumblebee
Sometimes I feel so caved in, With all my thoughts, all I can do is swim. Through these energies that are flowing from within, Just because I cant stop and ask what’s with him? Why do I always have to make a choice, My mind just wont let me be free, I feel like I have to make a decision but that’s not how Ive learned to be. So let me tell you about this chick I know, Shes not like all them girls that we always see, The first time I met her I grabbed her by the arm, I knew there was a story that was deep. I looked in her eyes and all I can see, her color contacts, that were trying to deceit. But deep down inside there was a story that was real, Her eyes and smile did a good job to disguise, But that didn’t fool me, I wanted to know the story that underlies. The reason why she seemed so attractive to me. Im not ususally a sucker for eyes, but the way she looked at me, Made me feel like she understands how to be free. I should’ve known the story she hides is something that might really hurt me, Because any story that’s locked up inside should never have a spare key. In the beginning I tried to make the situation feel sooooo real, But soon I realized that she had an addiction that was unsealed. Her wandering eye couldn’t stop her from speaking to many guys, Im not saying shes some ***** in disguise, But really she was a free spirit floating around that didn’t know her goodbyes, Even though she realized that might soon lead to her own demise. I shouldn’t say guys because in reality its just one that makes me compete, That look in her eyes was that she once knew what it felt like to be complete. That one other guy had left her so traumatized that shes never willing to forget, It was her obsession just like a cigarette. Everytime she felt angry or terrified there was one person who she knew would help offset, That one guy who she never wanted to regret, No matter the endless amount of time that he made her feel upset, Dreaming in her mind that one day they can recreate that fierce duet. See the problem was within me, I felt the need to help her realize That life is always filled with opportunities If we live in the past and never let go of what we once all had, We ll stay blind and you would never get to see. That there is some other guy that’s willing to improvise in order to help you lead, I got shot down with all of these stories about how she cant commit, The sad thing is she wont even realize how beautiful she is, She lets one experience judge her whole life and all she thinks about is what if. I even learned to like who she is regardless of the lovefilled flaws. Just because I want to show her that her craziness can be fixed. She thinks shes always lost her mind, and that her process is so one of a kind, That no other guy can help her define, who she wants to be. But I learned how to believe, Before my insecurities and perfectionism took over my next decision, But now what I learned is that life not about some kind of demonstration, Its process that involves many years to learn, I don’t know why but I really feel the need to have her in my life, Even though it was causing me concern, Now you know why I feel so caved in, I fell for a girl who wont let me win.
0
Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 9:16 PM UTC
Caved In
Sometimes I feel so caved in, With all my thoughts, all I can do is swim. Through these energies that are flowing from within, Just because I cant stop and ask what’s with him? Why do I always have to make a choice, My mind just wont let me be free, I feel like I have to make a decision but that’s not how Ive learned to be. So let me tell you about this chick I know, Shes not like all them girls that we always see, The first time I met her I grabbed her by the arm, I knew there was a story that was deep. I looked in her eyes and all I can see, her color contacts, that were trying to deceit. But deep down inside there was a story that was real, Her eyes and smile did a good job to disguise, But that didn’t fool me, I wanted to know the story that underlies. The reason why she seemed so attractive to me. Im not ususally a sucker for eyes, but the way she looked at me, Made me feel like she understands how to be free. I should’ve known the story she hides is something that might really hurt me, Because any story that’s locked up inside should never have a spare key. In the beginning I tried to make the situation feel sooooo real, But soon I realized that she had an addiction that was unsealed. Her wandering eye couldn’t stop her from speaking to many guys, Im not saying shes some ***** in disguise, But really she was a free spirit floating around that didn’t know her goodbyes, Even though she realized that might soon lead to her own demise. I shouldn’t say guys because in reality its just one that makes me compete, That look in her eyes was that she once knew what it felt like to be complete. That one other guy had left her so traumatized that shes never willing to forget, It was her obsession just like a cigarette. Everytime she felt angry or terrified there was one person who she knew would help offset, That one guy who she never wanted to regret, No matter the endless amount of time that he made her feel upset, Dreaming in her mind that one day they can recreate that fierce duet. See the problem was within me, I felt the need to help her realize That life is always filled with opportunities If we live in the past and never let go of what we once all had, We ll stay blind and you would never get to see. That there is some other guy that’s willing to improvise in order to help you lead, I got shot down with all of these stories about how she cant commit, The sad thing is she wont even realize how beautiful she is, She lets one experience judge her whole life and all she thinks about is what if. I even learned to like who she is regardless of the lovefilled flaws. Just because I want to show her that her craziness can be fixed. She thinks shes always lost her mind, and that her process is so one of a kind, That no other guy can help her define, who she wants to be. But I learned how to believe, Before my insecurities and perfectionism took over my next decision, But now what I learned is that life not about some kind of demonstration, Its process that involves many years to learn, I don’t know why but I really feel the need to have her in my life, Even though it was causing me concern, Now you know why I feel so caved in, I fell for a girl who wont let me win.
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57
**Waiting for the white paper which underlies this writing to loose a flow of words finding Peace in the facing-off: a pumpkin and a purple cushion.. Henry David Thoreau chose to sit on a solitary pumpkin not a crowded purple cushion.. Many we know might charge him with most slothful neglect.. Our venerable teachers have exhorted us to lift up the purple with their assumption: what is real is purple.. Yet we..startled by experience find that very often purple is pain.. We long to sit on that pumpkin long since overgrown with dead purple vines.. At last in our longing the pumpkin may speak of what lies in hiding .. 'til just now.. with Peace emerging the Pumpkin is Purple...**
0
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 8:27 PM UTC
The Purple Pumpkin
Maybe if you wipe the tears From your eyes You'll see the beauty of years unravel and arise. And maybe, If you wipe the tears from your eyes You'll come to realize Why you never wanted to visualize The agony that underlies-- them
0
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 11:58 PM UTC
Tears
A colorless sunset disappears Melancholy underlies a quiet night alone Itchy feet and restless thoughts No sleep for the weary White noise fills the space reserved for real emotion Crippled mind and clogged heart Regurgitating memories trying to feel myself Comfort in the absence of pain A vapid existence A quiet night alone
0
May 26, 2010
May 26, 2010 at 5:42 AM UTC
A Quiet Night Alone
Self deceived, I squander marrow, I masquerade the straight and narrow, Seasons stretched, my essence hollows, Desire, dreams and purpose follows. My journey dulled by everyday, Monotony, days veiled in grey, Life's sombre ruin underway, Significance, my yesterday. Deceit defends; my bow and arrow, Mentality in disarray, Love recedes, eternal sorrow, Vitality wearing away. Before me you materialize, Rescuer, hero undisguised, Bore truth, bore love, to my surprise, Abetted, found what underlies. Imminent growth, restored, I ascend, Weakness' welcomed, defenses end, No longer wish to play pretend, More pleased than I could comprehend. Discovered where desire lies. Forever impassioned, we transcend Forsaw my future in your eyes, My flame, my lover, my best friend.
0
Jun 28, 2013
Jun 28, 2013 at 6:33 PM UTC
Forever Impassioned
~ dreams of you, they fill my mind; dreams of us, our hearts entwined; inseparable we, this you and i, the dream we dreamed, us unified. from two came three, love multiplied; conceived a song, it testified; our voices sang their lullaby; the how, the why still mystifies; your heart of love it underlies. here... dreams of you still fill my mind; i dream of us, ever entwined. ~
0
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 2:15 PM UTC
dreams
It took years for the physicist and the meta-physicist to reluctantly agree. They took opposing alleys: One looked into matter and arrived at its intrinsic energy. The other looked at energy and saw matter as incidental analogy; just a random criss-cross of cosmic puissance. They made much ado in arriving where my good old three-band radio catapulted me years ago. Since my teens; she had faithfully been my worthy companion. With sweet melodies, thoughtful talks, rousing commentaries.... she kept me company through thick and thin. For a scanty eternity, she was the only tie with humanity in my plain, flat life; lonesome, sickly and solitary. We knew each other closely; fondly and dearly and I would talk to her, some would say foolishly, and though strangely, she always responded readily. For years sixteen that Philips machine was with me and I saw into her inherent energy that underlies every material entity. # When she died suddenly without warning....abruptly, I knew a friend had gone but the essence lived on. We had perfect camaraderie: She was all intricacy; body, battery and circuitry, and the spark that came from me; ah!!! my art of tuning adeptly. Though I got newer models and makes, the heart still beats with a dull ache for the one who began as mortal matter and bonded timelessly with my being; ...merged and mingled... as an undying memory, in what they call my imperishable, impregnable spirit.
0
Nov 15, 2019
Nov 15, 2019 at 10:51 AM UTC
The Timeless Bond
Now I see what I didn't believe, Though I have conceived That our world is icy; Frozen, cold, but hot like hell. I won't fall in love with falling. I'll fall in love with me, I, and myself. 'Cause in my own eyes I'm compromised, Fed so many lies, watched my faith die And my hopes diminish. So long before we're finished But I'm getting skittish And nervous, feeling worthless. This seems so worthless, what's the purpose? The aspiration has been the pursuit of happiness. We don't need the stress to pass this test Just take a rest, go out and guess. Let others assess our intelligence. We'll play the fool, for they're the best of the best. Yeah, step right up and place your bets! Ignore regrets, never forget To empathize or sympathize, not criticize, Don't demoralize their strange eyes. Because you are unaware of what underlies All their metaphorical reprise. While some lives are filled with black nights Others shine bright like star light in dark skies. A bit of insight into my fright Proves you can't fight off your demons with a knife.
0
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 11:08 PM UTC
My Knife
She cried In the sun as we sat on the concrete lip of a family plot. told me her regrets of returning God's gift. *Life would be so different. I can never get it back, I'm so ungrateful.* The world underlies. And we are sensitive people.
0
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 8:26 AM UTC
Cemetery fide
In God we Trust Don’t make me sick I will not fall For that cunning trick I have an advantage My mind is free To search To explore This sham fallacy JC is a fake There to control Suppress all your needs If you enter his fold But .. You don’t fool me With your pious act Whiter then white Whilst you’re flat on your back Flat on your back With the ***** down the road Or the hiding the sausage Before you explode I cannot abide This man in a frock Who preaches the word Like a babbling brock So … **** your ******** **** your lies **** your hate And all that underlies For I am THE  SHEPHERD And … I walk alone I am a my own person Not anyone’s CLONE
0
Dec 3, 2010
Dec 3, 2010 at 1:04 AM UTC
In God we Trust
Green is the color of life Not the neon green of toddler toothpaste Or the gray-green swirls of size-14 bowling ***** But the forest green, the deep vitality of a leaf or stem Underlies every important thing we encounter The shoots stuck between my toes, fragile leaves Crushed under thoughtless steps from relative giants Don't you agree? The contemptuous, superfluous, inconspicuous, jealous Lies we spout to justify our conformity when There is no justification, no yelling No calloused hands begging in corners for change Dusty old tires churning along vacant streets With dusty old memories trailing behind
0
Apr 28, 2011
Apr 28, 2011 at 4:35 PM UTC
Green
5am skies Paint a periwinkle view A slick step underlies This cold morning dew It should come as no surprise The birds echoing coo And I can only surmise That springs fighting through But the forecast lies And warm glimpses are few As winter bored eyes Beg the sun to come to This town softly sighs Reluctant flowers grew And sunlight it pries At the clouds we so rue Yearn for giving up ties To bundling till we brew Instead saying our hi's To the shorts we outgrew Then we'll hear children's cries As the school year is through How summer yearly buys Precious freedom to renew As a sunbather fries To reach a darker hue And teenage boys rise Forget shirts when they do When the cold rain dries Although not quite on cue This change is a prize You could take part, too
0
Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 7:27 AM UTC
A slow spring
your laugh is recognizable, and this smile shows quite the opposite of dispisable. when i get butterflies, i realize the secrecy underlies the true feelings i get when you look me in the eye and when you kiss me, lord i could just die. after it's all said and done, i let out a sigh, i just cant lie when you're around, those butterflies become a firefly. and baby my heart, it may not be so smart but when it comes to what i want, it has it's own font. so baby please don't taunt, even if we cant flaunt i wanna make this work which shows plain as day with my little smirk. Kaity Morris March 6, 2012
0
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 6:23 PM UTC
Firefly.
i wasn't the reason to make you stay no matter how much i want to be drag your life out one more day i knew it was quite selfish of me. yet i asked and i begged promises fall deaf on your ears with you gone i would be dead no meaning in carrying out years. you were afraid to meet my eyes to give yourself away of your plan that underlies that stone expressioned face. but your plan would soon unfold soon that i found out when almost a month ago i found your body on the ground. the needle in your hand right where it belongs your one and only friend that stalked you all along. this pain does not go away and i'm afraid i'm on the verge of tears but i've always been this way now that you're not here. they tell me i'll soon heal and life will continue to go on but this agony i have to deal will simply never be gone. and you did this. you single handily murdered me. and I can't forgive you.
0
Sep 20, 2013
Sep 20, 2013 at 12:56 PM UTC
eulogy
And he said he was my friend Beside me he would stand forever Confused and alone, I was abandoned Dared to trust and broke in pieces Eternally marred with experience Forever altered, just a bit Giving my all to those I love Has proven to be, less than perfect Ideal would be that caring is equal Jaded and hardened by Knowledge and fear Love is not limited to romance Melancholy taints entirely New friendships form more slowly Omnipresent, the past hovers Pandering specks of my soul Quietly I wait Resolving to remain true Sensitive and sentimental Trust, is unforgiving Ubiquitous skepticism, underlies all Voraciously I hunger freedom Wanting to be who I was before the pain Xeric hearts don't bleed Yet, I wish on the nights first star, on a Zillion stars I wish to face my fear and trust once more
0
Jun 12, 2010
Jun 12, 2010 at 7:24 AM UTC
Who I Was Before
I took a step inside your mind and found a place I'd been before It's nothing good, this deja vu but I'm right here, and I'll help you I see your thoughts inside your eyes just like when I gazed through the mirror at mine I know your smile hides what underlies But you and I, we'll walk this mile So allow me to shake the hands of your demons These beasts are hardly strangers to me I'll guide you through this maze of burning trees just like the angel who was there for me I need you to look into my eyes as I tell you it's okay to cry And I'll walk through hell with you if it makes you feel alive
0
Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 6:49 PM UTC
If It Makes You Feel Alive
How can I forget When memories are glue A perfect moment in a late night That still draws me to you In the background of the mind I see with different eyes Though in the spotlight of thought I remember what underlies On the surface nothing's real To fool yourself is to be a fool I long for divine truth In a place that can be so cruel And I'm still taken back The warmth of a soul and cool of a room Pitch black with an empty audience Left with certainty, confusion, and overwhelming gloom
0
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 9:07 PM UTC
Empty Audience
I wake up and to my surprise The sun comes smiling at my eyes My pupils do burn but no cries Till it beats onto my thighs I start to think of all the whys But must stick with all my tries The sun can fight in the rise But in the end I win the prize It might out do me in its size But I’m the one that’s strong and wise For light to dark into the skies Makes it come to its demise Sink into Earth it underlies Now listen sun to my replies “I hope you sun take my advice” “Don’t mess with me when you arise”
0
Jun 15, 2010
Jun 15, 2010 at 8:57 PM UTC
Fight The Sun
We all have masks But no, I will not ask Of you to never wear Such safety that you bare It gets us through the day And keeps our id at bay Without our mask It’d be a task To live a civil way For we are social beings We need those special ties To share our inner feelings And free what underlies But underlies cannot be shared Until you’ve built a bond And that is why we have to wear Our mask to help belong But if you wear it long enough Your skin will overgrow And what was once your social bluff Will be the only face you know And what is social fabric If you’ve forgotten your despairs Your mask’s a pointless tactic If you’ve nothing left to share I encourage you to wear your mask It gets you through the fight The only favor that I ask Is you take it off at night
0
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 10:14 PM UTC
The Mask
The peaceful passing of my soul in silence is what this moment appears to be.Beneath my skin unravels a tale much the opposite. There the silence is perforated by the echo of my hopelessness. I am confronted by the possibility that I am losing it. Not my sanity (though perhaps that is a subject for a different passage).That I am losing my talent.That I am losing my muse. That the habit upon which i construct nearly my entire identity now threatens evanescence. And here I am, only halfway convinced that these keystrokes are self refuting.They are not devoid of talent. But they do not come in the same feverish manner. They do not come in unbridled passion They are beforehand constructed. They are not solid images or stories, but some vague outlines of more vague impressions. They are not paintings of the broad colorful strokes of emotions They feel almost - not quite- cold. And they feel calculated. Perhaps i have been guilty of overanalyzation It is likely. But also, I am keenly aware that my creation is much more an act of choice these days. It is much more an act of choice than spontaneity. I am not taken with the wind, or the trees. My soul does not overflow, it simply bubbles uneventfully. I find that when i look for inspiration, it is not there. I find that I can write about everything equally and subjectively. I have beliefs, I have passions, yes,but somehow they do not control me. And I am so used to being controlled. I have before thought that there was freedom there, or more accuately, i have felt it. And still that emotion underlies the thoughts that i now have. It feels as if i am devoid of what i have before held deeply central to my talent as a poet. But perhaps, this is simply a new era. It has long been argued and discussed what sort of poetry has value, what sort of poetry is poetry - and i would posit that the answer is all of it. There is value in the vivid pictures of emotions. And there is value in the eloquent preservation of the facts of a situation. Everything between on the vivid spectrum, may in some way be classified as poetry, and is in some way inherently valuable. I am not free. But Neither am I bound. This is why I am without direction.
0
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 2:04 PM UTC
I am not free, but neither am i bound.
The peaceful passing of my soul in silence is what this moment appears to be.Beneath my skin unravels a tale much the opposite. There the silence is perforated by the echo of my hopelessness. I am confronted by the possibility that I am losing it. Not my sanity (though perhaps that is a subject for a different passage).That I am losing my talent.That I am losing my muse. That the habit upon which i construct nearly my entire identity now threatens evanescence. And here I am, only halfway convinced that these keystrokes are self refuting.They are not devoid of talent. But they do not come in the same feverish manner. They do not come in unbridled passion They are beforehand constructed. They are not solid images or stories, but some vague outlines of more vague impressions. They are not paintings of the broad colorful strokes of emotions They feel almost - not quite- cold. And they feel calculated. Perhaps i have been guilty of overanalyzation It is likely. But also, I am keenly aware that my creation is much more an act of choice these days. It is much more an act of choice than spontaneity. I am not taken with the wind, or the trees. My soul does not overflow, it simply bubbles uneventfully. I find that when i look for inspiration, it is not there. I find that I can write about everything equally and subjectively. I have beliefs, I have passions, yes,but somehow they do not control me. And I am so used to being controlled. I have before thought that there was freedom there, or more accuately, i have felt it. And still that emotion underlies the thoughts that i now have. It feels as if i am devoid of what i have before held deeply central to my talent as a poet. But perhaps, this is simply a new era. It has long been argued and discussed what sort of poetry has value, what sort of poetry is poetry - and i would posit that the answer is all of it. There is value in the vivid pictures of emotions. And there is value in the eloquent preservation of the facts of a situation. Everything between on the vivid spectrum, may in some way be classified as poetry, and is in some way inherently valuable. I am not free. But Neither am I bound. This is why I am without direction.
Continue reading...
33
my monsters are silent no one hears my screams these demons are violent and they conquer me in teams look into my eyes, my synthetic smile, I'll hide what underlies, crying's not my style Through the thick I drag these chains chronic mental pains Over me my demons reign misery my veins contain Through the dust I try to see the lifeless creature that is me I'll set fire to these trees and my life, I will seize
0
Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 3:28 PM UTC
I, Redeemer
I can't figure out The color of your eyes, It intrigues me. I can't figure out What lies behind them, It fatigues me. Please just relieve me And give rise To what's behind the disguise That perplexes me. Please just fulfill me plea And explain exactly What it means When you look at me With those blues and greens. I think you feel it too But the doubt just intervenes. And it could fall through, The plans I thought might ensue. Usually I can just look through And subdue feelings like these, But my heart can't Ignore what it sees And my mind can't Deny, it agrees That when you look at me With those eyes It implies That this defies The norm And what underlies Will take form. Please just resolve This confusion I bear. Please just dissolve This despair that we share. I swear, I won't dare Drop my feelings If you care. I don't mind a reroute If this isn't what you're about. I just can't figure you out.
0
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 12:25 PM UTC
Windows
Today I stand in the light Of my own personal truth Speaking loudly in the silence To the magic that lies within Today I surround myself in The pink aura of blissful love Rose quartz crystals sparkling In my recently opened eyes Today I resolve to focus upon The love that underlies every Situation bringing about gentle Healing in undreamed of ways Today I open my heart to love Peace understanding and joy Today I welcome you to join me In this white pure light of love
0
May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 4:20 PM UTC
Today