"unleashes" poems
When man,
enters woman,
like the surf biting the shore,
again and again,
and the woman opens her mouth with pleasure
and her teeth gleam
like the alphabet,
Logos appears milking a star,
and the man
inside of woman
ties a knot
so that they will
never again be separate
and the woman
climbs into a flower
and swallows its stem
and Logos appears
and unleashes their rivers.
This man,
this woman
with their double hunger,
have tried to reach through
the curtain of God
and briefly they have,
through God
in His perversity
unties the knot.
17.1k
A sigh in the dark.
Past my jaded lips it rises
like a ghost, and I the host
of thoughts enamoured but unwanted,
unresolved.
Night takes my sight and unleashes vision
I watch (not my decision) the memories bloom to life.
Ethereal and hazy, those lazy summer days
Of hasty plans, promises, platitudes made;
childish to dream it could have stayed
the same.
Polite and awkward we shuffle in the light of day,
you think before you act and mind what you say
and if lucky enough you might get away
without blurting a thought from your head gone astray.
Why do eyes so bright bring such dark thoughts?
Why do we fear to take what we want?
A sigh in the dark.
Across chilled skin it spreads
like fire, this unspoken desire
between whispering sheets. Fingers grasp and twine,
I feel hers, she feels mine, as we search in the dark
together.
This night air we’ll share;
it's vice, and with vigour,
seeking the trigger
to release.
To resolve.
Aug 9, 2013
Aug 9, 2013 at 12:43 PM UTC
My dear summers dream was to the taste cream
Pass me the triple beam the microphone fiend
Back on the scene simplicity is your complexity
So amazingly like grace I be rockin' the place
Like we Studio 54 shut down the doors
Once the bubbly pours and the **** adores
Ya mental **** ya sentimentals and these new aged millennials
They too satirical I make miracles flow potholes
Creatin' mass mayhem your an inconvenience
Cuz of ya hesitance my presence is known
Without even being shown paragraphs of stone
Hard to crack waxing tracks like a shark attack
Felonious acts we never back down
Til my soul drown in the core of the earth
Royalties since birth new my worth they tried to mirth
At my pain tryna change the game cuz all these cowards
Saying the same thang got dang got dang
Time to chess box like Wu Tang leavin' a stain
On ya reign no tears though I'll be on solo
Rippin' up instrumentals ya know how we do so...yeahhh
From the Sunny to bees that make the honey
Sticky icky like my spliffs be call me smokey
Puttin' fire to mother natures forests check the creases I
unleashes
Rap game mafiaso so so better back back
Or else get dropped lika Domino so here we go!
Here we go!
With the ghetto jams love girls with the derriere's of Pam
Got **** once again it's time to slam
Mics harder than Shawn Kemp ya flows shrimp
That's why ya girl calls me Mr **** no limp
Slick as Rick hello young world tilt and a whirl
Catch the swirl of Qatar Pearls on the neck of ya girl
Suckas better know I'm coming with a blow
Harder than Bowe combined with a super glow
black Saiyan raps slayin' turntables layin'
So I can get wicked lyrics Pickett
like Wilson
Flows in unison formation
of words
Herds a violent surge
feel the purge
We high rising no disguisin'
knockin' out Suckas who jivin' ain't none survivin' ?
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 11:09 PM UTC
#
*Souls embroidered with sweet sighs of passion
Musing of nights in lace & white satin
On a vista of flesh, flushed with desire
Riding the flames on a passage of fire
The beating of drums, commanding the night
To the rhythm of hearts, passion ignites
Wrapped in immortal flames of the sun
Burning together, two become one
Flesh upon flesh, a spirited dance
Welded by whispers of love, of romance
Temperatures rise in a fever of lust
Stoking the flames, ****** after ******
Riding the swell, in a race to the shore
Try to repress, but needing it more
Virtue be ****** in the rage of desire
Flames rise in hunger, higher n' higher
Charging the crest, temperance slips
Drawing the reins in a white knuckle grip
Crashing of waves unleashes the flood
Quaking the heart, and searing the blood
Spewing of flames in the crash of the tide
In a warm sheen of sweat, fervor subsides
Energy spent in the throes of release
Collapsing together, the story complete*
#
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 7:48 AM UTC
*pain knocks on weathered doors
fastened ever tightly
cryptic access is denied
it camouflages in the shadows
stealthily it watches
hypervigilance enhancing
catastrophe awaiting
it strikes in latent graveyards
the gale begins to form
and unleashes its fierce torrent
the latch shattered and torn
there’s now an open entrance
creeping in it slithers
engulfing to encompass
digging up emotions
buried underground there
hovering and foggy
tho’ murky does not smother
but fleshes out the psyche
entombed and cobweb covered
it crawls along the edges
and peers in secret ledges
seeps into sequesters
like dust settled in feathers
it slides through every feeling
and when it’s at its blackest
it carves the darkness out
and let’s in sunlight’s presence
© 2016janetaylor
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 12:42 PM UTC
The Aces check their sleeves,
Hearts rippling across the breeze.
The Queen arises
Slowly,
Torn dress ripped at the knees.
The Jack saw his fill
And quickly took his leave.
Stood trembling in a doorway,
Mind struggling to believe...
The King was an alcoholic,
It was widely known to be so,
Each eve he would sit solemn,
Wine in hand and sword on show,
Clapping to the Jokers' japes
As he danced and sang
About love and fate.
But how was the King to know?
Not two rooms away
His wife had lain,
With a smile and a *****
Creating a cuckold and a fool...
The Jack had had enough
And promptly marched
To the throne room.
Armed with only knowledge,
Unleashes inevitable typhoon.
The winds will rise,
This house shall succumb,
Imploding inwards
Till the house is done.
And all that remains
Among ash and decay,
Broken hearts and broken spades,
Is the Jokers last laugh.
A mockingbirds call as daylight fades.
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 8:12 PM UTC
We humans have messed around
With Mother Nature and her eco-system
For years and years
Decades and decades
Centuries and centuries
Felling gazillions of trees
Turning forests into concrete jungles
Filling ponds, lakes, rivers and seas
With tons and tons of toxic waste
Releasing enough carbon monoxide into the air
To wreck the entire troposphere
The list of sins against Nature goes on and on
With no end in sight
Given all this, who are we to complain
When Mother Nature has had enough
And unleashes her fury on us
Through earthquakes and tsunamis
Avalanches and volcanoes
Hurricanes and tornadoes
Floods and droughts
And so on
Remember, Mother Nature has blessed us
With oodles of riches
In the form of plants and trees
Mountains and forests
Ponds, lakes, rivers, seas and oceans
And last but not the least, oxygen!
It is time we show her some gratitude
And more importantly, respect and compassion
And stop messing around with the eco-system
Remember the famous old saying
Live and let live
It doesn't mean infrastructure shouldn't be developed
We can build roads
We can build a railway network
We can build houses
We can build schools and colleges
We can build hospitals
We can build libraries
However, as my grandfather used to say
There is a limit to everything
And we should also plant trees
Build gardens and parks
Switch to renewable sources of energy
And cut down severely on emissions
A balance should be maintained
After all, messing around with Mother Nature
Will only bring about our own downfall
There have been enough natural disasters
Caused by human negligence
Let's not add to the list
Which is already longer than the river Nile!
May 9, 2022
May 9, 2022 at 12:54 PM UTC
the words
are beads and gems
and hooks and strings
scattered in a box
somewhere in
the softness behind my breastbone
my palms are up to catch the key
whenever it chooses to land
a pandora poised
to make ornaments
from all she uncovers,
all she unleashes
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 1:24 PM UTC
365Nectar #60 Devour Me
Fri. November 22, 2013 9:18 P.M.
Devour me...
A provocative passionate pouring
of pillaging and plundering...
A pleasing prowling
of a piercing plunderer...
A lovely, limp nymph
laid upon a sizzling alter...
Smoldering...
Awakening all the senses
a choking of lust
unleashes exhilarating
and
envelops you...
Effortlessly evoking ethereal...
a sinister seduction
seductively seduces
and hungry hips
breakdance with hysterical
Stimulating a surreal surge of a sweet seeping...
waiting...
impatiently...
For you to chisel
an unimaginable devouring...
S slow steady climb to the summit
of the ultimate ******
Time-
Time-
Time... a tool to employ flamboyantly...
immediately...
eargerly...
Expose my conquered heart
that leaks
of streams
of cream
of succulent sensation...
Expose my tamed moistness
that whispery whines
as you build a legacy
of torturous licking....
Seductively...
Slithering in spicy spirals
of stirring screams
from stormy shivers
of steamy anticipation
of your redefining touch...
Suddenly...
drowning in the sticky sensation
of all that is us...
A tender luscious love liquefying flesh
and penetrating souls...
We blend in blazing bliss
tapping taboo for titillating thrills
you rock a rowdy ravishing
inside me...
I whisper wet whimpers
and beg for bitten breast...
Our wrestling hips
hug, ***** and groan a hungry growling...
Pounded into saturated submission
I linger in lubricating dreams
for you-
to...
devour me.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
In the witching hour all is quiet except for the beating sound of two hearts entwined with passion and agony beating more angry by the minute.
Blinded eyes try to pierce through the dark abyss to find sanity in a place of cold nothingness and desolation, as the tortured mind cloudy with regret slowly fades away..
nails claw at blinded eyes longing to see the clouds part and behold, his goddess is there basking in the pale yellowing aura of the moon, as he looks longingly upon her..
skin and curves of perfection soaking up the yellowing, becoming golden upon his slightest gaze.
Knees become burning furnaces of pain and torment as he falls to kneel before her, begging with soundless words of an open mouth for release.
Paralyzed, hungrily devouring as her sightless eyes fall upon her brooding brow trailing down to the blinding stars that become her eyes under the harvest moon.
The wind blows fierce surrounding her in a halo of color plucked dead limbs, trailing off into oblivion.
She gazed upon his visage, her fierceness burning his soul in eternal torment she smirks and glides toward effortlessly slowly,
tantalizingly slow,
causing him great anguish and letting her sadistic humor known to all..
he lashed out and traps her in his iron eyes transfixed on lips so full and soft as crimson color them tricking down her body hungrily eating her perfect curves he kisses her
hard throwing themselves down a bottom less pit entangled in passion he forces her legs apart he slams into her as she drips wet in anticipation..
She moans breathlessly in extract, her ***** like velvet greedily devours his hardened **** of stone repeatedly ****** her innocence, tired bodies continuously fall exhausted.
She tried to flee, but his fires flamed inside hotly he takes her again.
His embrace hard, intense
his iron will dominating her.
Breaking her wild spirit, she gasps as he unleashes a relentless force inside her driving her to the edge of sanity and back again.
Her eyes close for the last time giving into his dominance
she embraced him.
Her wild flaming spirit shattered knowing that as he worships her it is she who is forever a slave of their passionate love,
melding bodies together,
as they fall endlessly in the abyss.
Apr 13, 2022
Apr 13, 2022 at 9:04 PM UTC
In to the mystery of the night, i wander
the tangled tarantula garden
canopied with prophesies of light,
Lit windows are making
overtures to desires
night unleashes at these hours,
hear the buzz in the air
its time to make love,
darkness forgets hurt and embraces light.
i walk alone,
but an enchanting witch wait
for me somewhere in a garden bench,
to take me by my hand to her secret haunt
filled with thick smoke of ****
where she will remove the drapes
to let me see the truth.
On her quill and cactus bed,
she would make me understand,
how far is pleasure from pain
why darkness stalks light,
a jilted lover, walking a few steps behind,
I've heard her, once whisper
to wind in her husky voice
"A life written off by those
who measure out life with coffee spoons,
as spent in vein; this life of mine,
could have its secret treasures,
no charlatan could ever guess about
a serpent's diamonds
very few get to see,
its dangerous to pry, i forgive their ignorance"
Words induced by her dark power
has layers of meaning
but to many it was just meaningless jabbering,
just magic mushroom blabber
She nibbled and nicked my earlobes,
in between intoxicating purrs,
told me the meaning of caterwauls,
**"Its not pain, its not pain,
once you get in to the stream
you only want to drain,
in to the vast blue ocean"**
I recognize now, it's Walpurgis night,
as i walk in search of my witch,
i see dancers around bonfire,
revelers totally out of their minds,
carouse at the heart of the night.
And i see them all, witches in marine blue dresses,
enchantresses in blackly black,
coquettish red or groovy green,
I wait for her to appear,
the only one in resplendent white.
May 24, 2012
May 24, 2012 at 9:49 AM UTC
- It's simple, Life Isn't fair. You grow
Believing
It Is
Until the world Releases
It's
Wrath.
Equality
Doesn't
Come
Easily
It most definitely won't
come
without
a Fight.
Every
Fight
Comes
With
a consequence. It may seem hard
However
It's worth It
Barack Obama
Ridiculed
So I can
become a
president
Rosa Parks Imprisoned
So I can sit
wherever I
choose
Martin Luther
King Assassinated
So I can befriend
anyone I choose
Malcolm X Murdered
So I can be accepted
Freedom Riders
Arrested So I can eat
wherever I choose
Black Panthers
Abused So I can be
treated fairly
These fighters died, On the front line, On the battle field
So I wouldn't have
To. And yet, Where am I
Fighting, On the front line
Of the battle field
So what ever young
aspiring African American
won't be deprived
of their education
Of their History
Of their right to vote;
For standing up
For what they believe In
It's simple
Life Isn't fair
However you
don't know
Until life
unleashes It's
wrath
On You
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 8:31 PM UTC
Prologue
Flashes of a luminous glow
Swims like a Borealis across the sky.
The cold compelling breeze
Soothes my clammy skin.
A quiet rumbling,
Like the growl of angry hell hounds,
Anticipates the coming
Storm
The sky unleashes electric snakes
As the wind rips through houses and trees.
Sweeping rain impinges upon the earth,
Scrubbing the night clean
To claps of deafening thunder.
I stand, insignificant as a leaf,
And watch in awe
Of Divinity
Even as temple bells are chiming,
God has long left the altar to take a breath;
And in the wake of this night's monster
All is silent and dead.
It is strange
How such destruction calms my soul
And makes a hard atheist like me,
Hope.
Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 5:22 AM UTC
When stress and tension are so high,
That you believe your stomach holds the weight of the sky,
Beat up a black, swinging punching bag
And leave your tensions behind to mangle, dangle and drag
Unleash the power bestowed within,
You may find doing so also unleashes a grin
Wild, almost psychotic, off-the-hook
The kind that makes passers-by turn and look
Hook, uppercut, jab and straight,
Doesn't matter which, leave that to fate
And put the sky back where it belongs
Out of your chest, because it fits wrong
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 3:09 AM UTC
Forming words to say what no one ever thought you would.
Spoken word gives people a chance to ride the waves of the syllables that roll off your tongue, to be engulfed into an ocean of self expression.
Spoken word is a story. A story that no one would have even believed if it was never conveyed in such a way the evoked so much emotion.
Spoken word is the ability to reach out to people on a different parallel.
when you open up its spread light, it allows people see an entire world that they never knew existed.
When you become transparent and turn all of your if’s, and's, and buts into something great you show people what they need to see, not what you want them to see.
And the words that so gracefully roll of your tongue become all of the things that they have never wanted to admit, Being vague has never allowed so much emotion and desire to aroused all at once.
Spoken word is an art that is within everyone's grasp, but only few have ever taken the advantage to capture it.
you can’t exactly see what is but when
you stretch your hands to reach for the creativity that wants to swallow you, The world that you once knew changes.
All of your thoughts become poetic, and there becomes a consistent need to tell people what's going on and it feels so amazing.
Spoken word is an expression
abling people that would have never thought they would have the power to say things about their lives unleashes a magnificent world that we would have never been able to see.
Spoken word is an art the doesn't just open eyes but shocks all of our senses. The ability to take someone on a journey without even having to leave the room, Making them experience your story in a way that you never thought you could.
Spoken word is not just poetry,
Spoken word describes all that I am,
All that I can, and will be,
All that I was,
All that is me.
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 8:50 PM UTC
The terra is only one
planted in clay soil
one planet of earth!
The sneaked out nightingale
here is never gone.
Unleashes soprano
at the same ancient roses'
still a perfumed home!
It's the starry upside's
dark down deep hole.
Sunset melting shadow
down the half light moon!
Eyes on in toto cool
after the day painter sun
is done colouring in full.
Guess, up from the sunrise mountain
who beams back tomorrow
into this unfathomed serene clay-mole?
Again see the sun follows by the moon!
Jun 9, 2021
Jun 9, 2021 at 1:02 PM UTC
Three years ago,
home wasn't home anymore.
When your front door step isn't the same
or your secret hide outs don't exist furthermore,
it isn't home.
"Home is where the heart is",
my mother once said.
She told me to be happy because we are together as a family.
But what happens when
family isn't family furthermore.
More than three years ago
family wasn't family anymore.
When alcohol,
hospital visits,
poverty,
and pain seeped through the cracks of our roof,
we all broke apart like
shards of a broken glass.
***** lies drip from the walls
on the foundation we call home now.
Anger unleashes through their mouths and hands.
"Forget its" have become a process for breathing.
Three years ago, my lungs filled with holes.
They are rotting with the time and tearing apart by the hands of, not only my demons, but everyone else's.
These demons sense my weakness,
my vulnerability.
So they feed off of my broken eyes and make their way in through the cracks.
Three years ago I lost home.
Family.
And myself.
Where is the heart now, mother?
In The Broken House.
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 11:45 AM UTC
Todesfugue ("Death Fugue")
by Paul Celan
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Black milk of daybreak, we drink you come dusk;
we drink you come midday, come morning, come night;
we drink you and drink you.
We’re digging a grave like a hole in the sky;
there’s sufficient room to lie there.
The man of the house plays with vipers; he writes
in the Teutonic darkness, “Your golden hair Margarete...”
He composes by starlight, whistles hounds to stand by,
whistles Jews to dig graves, where together they’ll lie.
He commands us to strike up bright tunes for the dance!
Black milk of daybreak, we drink you come dusk;
we drink you come dawn, come midday, come night;
we drink you and drink you.
The man of the house plays with serpents; he writes...
he writes as the night falls, “Your golden hair Margarete...
Your ashen hair Shulamith...”
We are digging dark graves where there’s more room, on high.
His screams, “Hey you, dig there!” and “Hey you, sing and dance!”
He grabs his black nightstick, his eyes pallid blue,
screaming, “Hey you―dig deeper! You others―sing, dance!”
Black milk of daybreak, we drink you come dusk;
we drink you come midday, come morning, come night;
we drink you and drink you.
The man of the house writes, “Your golden hair Margarete...
Your ashen hair Shulamith...” as he cultivates snakes.
He screams, “Play Death more sweetly! Death’s the master of Germany!”
He cries, “Scrape those dark strings, soon like black smoke you’ll rise
to your graves in the skies; there’s sufficient room for Jews there!”
Black milk of daybreak, we drink you come midnight;
we drink you come midday; Death’s the master of Germany!
We drink you come dusk; we drink you and drink you...
He’s a master of Death, his pale eyes deathly blue.
He fires leaden slugs, his aim level and true.
He writes as the night falls, “Your golden hair Margarete...”
He unleashes his hounds, grants us graves in the skies.
He plays with his serpents; Death’s the master of Germany...
“Your golden hair Margarete...
your ashen hair Shulamith...”
Paul Celan (1920-1970) was a Romanian Jew who wrote poems in German. He survived the Holocaust, despite the loss of his mother and father, to become one of the major German-language poets of the post–World War II era. His parents' deaths and the horrors of the Holocaust have been called the "defining forces" in Celan's poetry.
Keywords/Tags: Paul Celan, Holocaust poems, Holocaust poetry, Shoah, German, translation, black, milk, drink, vipers, serpents, hounds, grave, graves, golden, hair, Margarete, Shulamith, sing, dance, Death, master, Germany, Nazis, racism, antisemitism, injustice, brutality, genocide, ethnic cleansing, World War II, world conflicts
Mar 11, 2020
Mar 11, 2020 at 11:03 PM UTC
our fruiterer is a riddling prankster
who jumps up from every corner
and tray and stacks, with any old silly riddle
(1)
“Looking at apples, eh?”
he approaches Sandy
*“What did the apple say to the bug?
Oh – stop bugging me!”*
And he laughs at his own humor
(or lack of it)
while severe Sandy rotates
an apple in her left palm
and he ventures to the next vulnerable customer,
who is me
“How, my dear man,” he proceeds to ask
“do you fix a broken tomato?”
I shake my head, bewildered
and he unpacks his own riddle:
“Tomato paste!”
And he roars with laughter
his chilli-sharp eyes pointed
at his next customer
(2)
And off he goes with his riddles –
with his booming voice, no pause
and wrapping his answers in cracking laughs
He jumps to an old man
and he says:
*“Why, do tell me, do bananas
never feel lonely?”*
“Cos they always come in bunches”
And the young couple he regales with:
*“Why did the tomato go out with the prune?
Oh, come on…simply cos he couldn’t find a date!”*
And to an old woman he says
in near-Oedipus style:
*“What did the Dad Tomato tell his Kid Tomato?
Ketchup!”*
And as in a light musical
he turns about and whoever he finds
he unleashes his final:
*“How do you fix a cracked pumpkin?
Easy peasy – you use a pumpkin patch!”*
Ah, our fruiterer is a riddling prankster
who jumps up from every corner
and tray and stacks, with any old silly riddle
Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 7:44 AM UTC
I use the word sin
In metaphor;
For I don't believe
Anymore
That there's a
Heaven or a Hell
Or a creator.
I say, "Thank God"
Facetiously;
For an open mind
Unleashes me
From placing my
Gratitude
With a magic dude.
I say, *******
Because people get offended,
Even though blasphemy
Is not what I intended.
The aesthetic appeal
Is just so splendid;
Two words juxtaposed,
So tenderly blended.
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 12:34 AM UTC
................................
Reprieve
Reprieve
Reprieve
Reprieve
................................
Life is so precious
when you're the one who's taking it.
I took the life of your friend
Again, again, again.
I'm contracted to take the hit
I know that makes no difference.
The lives you hold so very near
I'll take them from you dear.
................................
Why can't
my mind
find its
ease?
................................
I know the position you're in.
I was not born into this.
A hit was placed on my family and friends
to recruit my obedience.
I pretend to be normal
until my contract is signed
and the clever, chaotic side
unleashes on its next sacrifice.
................................
Reprieve
Reprieve
Reprieve
Reprieve
................................
There is no way to say this
I'm a killer who warps the meaning of justice.
I'll die alone in a ditch
and laugh at my own hopelessness.
................................
I laugh
at my
own mind's
unease
................................
Reprieve!
Reprieve?
There's no reprieve!
................................
Laugh!
Laugh!
Laugh with me!
................................
Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 4:41 PM UTC
A smooth head tilt toward the sidewalk,
he gently gestures for us to cross
When ignored, he snaps a bent leg into place
as naturally as he's attracted to men
soft, intelligent eyes glinting through his rainbow helmet
His cycle stutters like he did when asking Jason out,
breathing out life like he breathed out "I love you",
a mustang anxious to rear up and gallop
He soothes the handlebars with steady palms,
then unleashes his bike's power
as soon as we're safe
on the other side,
off to meet up at a romantic café
with a man named Peter Ryde.
Mar 26, 2019
Mar 26, 2019 at 7:41 PM UTC
*The alluring night
Entices the lovely souls
Yearning to reciprocate
A connect at subliminal level
Waiting to embrace
Touch the deepest core
Stars shine brighter
And the moon blushes
Rhythmic dance of wild hearts
Unleashes the desire*
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 9:59 AM UTC