"underneathe" poems - Hello Poetry

Dance of the wind, shakes the trees, shakes the sky Turn of the seasons Turn of the storm Sweet Ulyses on a broken tulip, dying Reaching for the last of time Within the great mystery. Oh, holy land walking underneathe feet With tired eyes and repeated lies - The carrion song breaks down and cries Yesterday closes in on thought's illusion Of telling today to run around Chasing past days gone For the sake of youth gone Crystal eyes and flaccid goodbyes The carrion song breaks down and cries Under soft caresses of Nature's glow Ceases to be, the gift of selfishness Asleep in the fog Spinning madly, this rock of earth Around star sun, a one-eyed Buddha Taking gravity, magnetic energy Invisible force Orange burn, holographic sin Make the clock jump ahead Forward in time, backward in rhyme Poor things of words Emotionless, bodiless Detailing worlds, both inner and outer But never receiving rightful admiration Or recognition Oh, sad words of symbolic reference Lay down your weary tune and collapse Sink back into the void of a hum Yesterday opens around thought's illusion Of showing today the masterplan When bizarre happenings stir the crowd of mind 'Tis the moment to step out of time And examine the line, The dire chime of truth And thus enters the chance to realize The carrion song that breaks down and cries

0

Dec 12, 2013

Dec 12, 2013 at 6:55 PM UTC

kristofer-von-coons

Crow Dandy Rag

Dance of the wind, shakes the trees, shakes the sky Turn of the seasons Turn of the storm Sweet Ulyses on a broken tulip, dying Reaching for the last of time Within the great mystery. Oh, holy land walking underneathe feet With tired eyes and repeated lies - The carrion song breaks down and cries Yesterday closes in on thought's illusion Of telling today to run around Chasing past days gone For the sake of youth gone Crystal eyes and flaccid goodbyes The carrion song breaks down and cries Under soft caresses of Nature's glow Ceases to be, the gift of selfishness Asleep in the fog Spinning madly, this rock of earth Around star sun, a one-eyed Buddha Taking gravity, magnetic energy Invisible force Orange burn, holographic sin Make the clock jump ahead Forward in time, backward in rhyme Poor things of words Emotionless, bodiless Detailing worlds, both inner and outer But never receiving rightful admiration Or recognition Oh, sad words of symbolic reference Lay down your weary tune and collapse Sink back into the void of a hum Yesterday opens around thought's illusion Of showing today the masterplan When bizarre happenings stir the crowd of mind 'Tis the moment to step out of time And examine the line, The dire chime of truth And thus enters the chance to realize The carrion song that breaks down and cries

41

When I wake in the middle of the morning I see your bare body glowing in what is left of the moonlight. It takes my breath away and suddenly every inch of my skin is fiending to feel you like an addict fresh to rehab. It's been a few hours since I last touched you, since I fell asleep in your arms, and now that we have rolled to opposite ends of the bed I need the high back again. You on top of the covers, and I underneathe, I envelope you the best I can and trace imaginary circles in your hair. I run my fingers down the side of your face covered with stubble and plant feather-lite kisses across your skin as your poison soaks into my veins and my heart quickens. I lay there for hours on this high, watching you sleep with dialated eyes, and trying to hold back these words that sit at the pearly gates of my teeth. It's maddening; trying to keep the brigade of how I feel and what I know and how I hope behind the enameled walls. They fight the barrier and pull at my tongue in an attempt to spill from my shaking lips and crash into the drum of your ears. But I fear if you knew, you would run. So instead I take another hit of you I regather my composure and face the day of sobriety ahead.

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Apr 2, 2013

Apr 2, 2013 at 2:37 PM UTC

emmalie1

Falling in love at 5am

When I wake in the middle of the morning I see your bare body glowing in what is left of the moonlight. It takes my breath away and suddenly every inch of my skin is fiending to feel you like an addict fresh to rehab. It's been a few hours since I last touched you, since I fell asleep in your arms, and now that we have rolled to opposite ends of the bed I need the high back again. You on top of the covers, and I underneathe, I envelope you the best I can and trace imaginary circles in your hair. I run my fingers down the side of your face covered with stubble and plant feather-lite kisses across your skin as your poison soaks into my veins and my heart quickens. I lay there for hours on this high, watching you sleep with dialated eyes, and trying to hold back these words that sit at the pearly gates of my teeth. It's maddening; trying to keep the brigade of how I feel and what I know and how I hope behind the enameled walls. They fight the barrier and pull at my tongue in an attempt to spill from my shaking lips and crash into the drum of your ears. But I fear if you knew, you would run. So instead I take another hit of you I regather my composure and face the day of sobriety ahead.

16

It was not that far off in time I was spooning your sleeping self Cradling your flesh with mine, Smooth skin underneathe my lips back pressed against the front of my hips while I thanked God with eyes squeezed tight For the dawn that breaks out from every night And with My breathe synchronizing with yours in Gentle joy I thanked Him for just the warmth of this body For just the warmth of this boy

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Nov 15, 2011

Nov 15, 2011 at 6:07 PM UTC

shula-e

16 hours ago

It was not that far off in time I was spooning your sleeping self Cradling your flesh with mine, Smooth skin underneathe my lips back pressed against the front of my hips while I thanked God with eyes squeezed tight For the dawn that breaks out from every night And with My breathe synchronizing with yours in Gentle joy I thanked Him for just the warmth of this body For just the warmth of this boy

10

the gravel crackels underneathe my feet i here the sound of clicking in my step a peice of gum on my sole makes the noise i whisper to the wind to carry me away but it goes threw me like every other day i wash my face with the mourning dew and begin the long journey home my shoes are beaten and my jeans are torn my body is sore from the hard wood floor but im on my way face to the sun and hands in my belt loops i walk past and here the sound of dribbling and swishing hoops keep me on the right track and let me get home it wont **** me to have another smoke my lips taste of last night beer my face is ****** but i shed no tears i live in no fear because home is near

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Nov 16, 2010

Nov 16, 2010 at 8:13 AM UTC

jam-rock

Long Walk Home

the gravel crackels underneathe my feet i here the sound of clicking in my step a peice of gum on my sole makes the noise i whisper to the wind to carry me away but it goes threw me like every other day i wash my face with the mourning dew and begin the long journey home my shoes are beaten and my jeans are torn my body is sore from the hard wood floor but im on my way face to the sun and hands in my belt loops i walk past and here the sound of dribbling and swishing hoops keep me on the right track and let me get home it wont **** me to have another smoke my lips taste of last night beer my face is ****** but i shed no tears i live in no fear because home is near

17

A wobblie stool is so lame Everwhere I go to drink or eat a wobblie stool always the same infact I look way more drunk because of this **** chair. I try to kick my foot up to stop it Try switchin stools Try to put a box of matches underneathe it. nothing works it all boils down To me not being heavy enough to way it down.

0

Mar 19, 2013

Mar 19, 2013 at 7:25 PM UTC

jam-rock

Untitled

A wobblie stool is so lame Everwhere I go to drink or eat a wobblie stool always the same infact I look way more drunk because of this **** chair. I try to kick my foot up to stop it Try switchin stools Try to put a box of matches underneathe it. nothing works it all boils down To me not being heavy enough to way it down.

11