"unmentioned" poems
732
She rose to His Requirement—dropt
The Playthings of Her Life
To take the honorable Work
Of Woman, and of Wife—
If ought She missed in Her new Day,
Of Amplitude, or Awe—
Or first Prospective—Or the Gold
In using, wear away,
It lay unmentioned—as the Sea
Develop Pearl, and ****
But only to Himself—be known
The Fathoms they abide—
8.7k
I am a soul,not a product
I am a dream,not a vision
I am a start,not an abort
Whether you understand it or not
She stepped out to change consequences
But instead,they changed and ripped her apart
How optimistic was she,
Being the one with a new hope
Struggling hard to find the unnamed answers
Still she bore a smile
But each day she died a while,
Far more than a horrible death
Questioning destiny she still had faith
A faith;that questioned the darkened sight of the human heart
Now the question arises,
Was it her mistake or the hunger of the rapists ?
Thousand similar stories are lying there
Unmentioned and no one to bother
Was it not a social issue?
Was it not a rotten side of a disheartened person?
Sometimes it feels being a girl is a challenge
Fighting,facing tortures,balancing and finally protecting
Yet gaining confidence at each step of life
You can't predict whats' life up to
And no one will step forward to help you
Many people will come,and many people will go
Leaving behind a scar in your heart
But the power,the strength lies with you
Cause you have the utmost power to live your life
Cause you have the power to be fearless.
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 4:56 AM UTC
On the night of initiation,
curves of pale luster began to gleam unwrinkled from the darkened divots along the lunar surface
A perspective unseen for so long, it was viewed as a defaulted “wink” on the face of the moon
And therefore, forgotten, unmentioned, until it’s means were sought
From days ‘fore, and long since now dust
Scribing authors, secrete beads of frenzy into ink filled phial
Sending tremors down, into the quill tip
Filling scrolls for permanence in a preemptive defense against continuous unraveling thoughts would befall
this fluency into incoherent clutter
Pioneers of preprint in a provoking tome,
would speak educated reasons why these areas of Moon had been locked under sealed dark punishment
since Empedocles mixed cosmic elements to breed an undeniable proving truth
Exhibiting the myth of danger
alongside
The established absolute and supervening fizzling sunset
proving the existence of love...
—————————————————-
“Since I have given you words from my within
like the ecliptic rising and burning massive,
Our mutual visibility of late is either one-sided
or
short lived
I’ll take a detour around the comforts of romance
And try to talk my way into your pants
By tossing at you, letters squeezed together,
for your minds transcription into the heart of my subliminal write
In hopes you’ll feel a trickling gush
If I get really lucky these words will find you like a volcano erupts a ****
The same way water, beating against years of stone can fall
And crash through a dam with pouring force so insatiable it’s territory is marked in history
Jun 22, 2019
Jun 22, 2019 at 11:09 PM UTC
each of life's moments
are formed by shadow
and light..
rare moments of light connect
lingering shadows of habit..
a claimed experience of
light draws
objection and challenge..
challenger not aware
light is linked
with secluded shadow..
there keys are found
unexpectedly
opening doors to
experienced light..
humanity streams from
a hidden source..
experienced only with
keys connecting darkly..
awakening to
the unmentioned
..innuendo..
(this poem inspired by
the first paragraph of Emerson's
Over-Soul)
Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 4:28 PM UTC
i'm really good at similes
comparing myself to things that are not me gives me a sense of good ego
and makes me feel like i'm not in my own skin
but i hate being similar to something
because all we wanna be is different, a bit out of the typical box
but somehow if we're compared to normal at least we have the mind state,
at least no one will exclude us
i've been abandoned
but what gives me comfort in the outcast
is english language slabbed on my paper and a slice of outkast at 12 am
we've all been taught in grade school that original is the way to go
the path of happiness
but consequences often go unmentioned and unnoticed
i've been normal, or at least compared
been a simile my whole life
"you're a lot like your brother you know"
i'd rather be excluded than have set up expectations from a man 6 feet under
i don't know where i'm going with this
a part of me wants to be excluded from the box
a part of me wants to have normality to lean on
a part of me loves being compared
i'll always been a good at similes
i'm the human embodiment of figure of speech
except i don't even want to talk
just keep on tak tak taking on this keyboard
hoping to find something similar
to self realization, self reflection
i only want the similarities to good feelings
because **** is all i've felt
i guess being almost there is better than never there
i'm a lot like myself
i'm undecided
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 8:51 PM UTC
Alone
To me is home
I let the music flow through my veins
And my hate dwindles away
No stress, no paranoia, no screaming or hateful words
I am alone.
And I guess I'm bothered that I don't have friends
But I guess that's okay also
I've become everyones doormat
Sure, I'll buy you this
I'll listen to your petty problems while an (unmentioned) family member of mine does some more ****
But in my head, I scream as loud as I can for just one person
One
Person
To hold me while I cry
And tell me that everything IS going to be okay
And that all this IS going to be over soon
But I guess we can't all have what we want, right?
Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 11:16 PM UTC
_For as the curtain rises,
So too the curtain falls,
No accolades, no entourage,
No 'Brava!', no applause.
An unrehearsed performance,
By a monodramatist,
A solo show, a pantomime,
An improvised burlesque.
Critics stand in groups debating,
The value of my work,
They gossip in the aisles,
The playhouse now a kirk.
My eulogy their invention,
My obituary the prize,
The best review I've ever had,
A mix of humour and soft lies.
I have played the loving daughter,
The honest aunt *****
The independent sister,
The true and loyal friend.
The sympathetic neighbour,
I have played the errant niece,
The mentor, guide, and confidant,
The ***** and the tease.
In truth, I am a diva,
Living mostly in her head,
But this remains unmentioned,
In a tribute to the dead.
Once rose bouquets beribboned,
From the greatest and the good,
Now a solitary arrangement,
On a coffin made of wood.
For as the curtain rises,
So too the curtain falls,
No accolades, no entourage,
No garlands, no applause.
But wait, I see my error,
As indeed these things exist,
But not for me to comment on,
Nor as I would have wished.
For my aspect is fair frozen,
I cannot turn the page,
My performance has now ended,
And I have left the stage._
Sep 14, 2020
Sep 14, 2020 at 3:51 AM UTC
when those we have elected tell us blatant lies
and call them “alternative facts”
we should not wait too long to call them liars
make them aware that we don’t share
their newspeak fantasies and visions
removed from everyday reality
nor do we treasure their maneuvers
that keep the media all hyped up
reporting every tweet as if it were
one of the ten commandments
Moses once held up in stone
while
unmentioned
behind quite secret White House doors
the leader’s relatives and cronies
incompetent but greedy
are nominated for positions of whose duties
they do not really have a clue
a friend of oil & coal & fracking
supposedly protects our environment
an ignorant billionairess
who never really saw a public school
is now in charge of education
a business man with heavy ties to Russia
is asked to steer our foreign policy
a judge well known for his quite racist bias
is thought to fit into the supreme court
and many of the Wall Street’s alligators
whose swamps the current leader
has kept promising to drain
all through his great campaign
are happily assembled ‘round the trough
of power influence and money
facts quite ‘alternative’ indeed
from those that had been promised
for over more than a whole year
by that self-styled
‘candidate against the establishment’
with not so secret Russian ties
simply unbelievable
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 6:14 PM UTC
When men are from mercury and not from mars
It means women are from unmentioned galaxy stars
When you give me your messages
In multitudes of melodies & Curious cacophony of cranial codes
Dare I decipher this disconcerted data
In
Massive mainframes of masked mental material
Hidden honeysuckle hints buried deep within
Lust covered lurking lexicons in libraries of linguistic whisper hints
For
Love innuendos in serpentine tongues
Like a brainwave barrage by day & Titanium telepathy attacks by night
You stop at nothing to remain in my sight
I never told you I was from unmentioned galaxy stars
You’re a man from mercury and not from mars
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 1:18 AM UTC
Ihinabi ko sa bukana ng payong ang ulan.
This is to believe that sheltering may not always be, or simply perhaps an undertaking of weakness. A radical strangeness aspires to be bold. I may not be able to transcend its nakedness.
.
This is to deny the common verity that in the communal of water, shade fails a transliteration. We cannot be forever in hiding. Our smallness reveals our flowers. Our unmentioned stirrings. (A spire of technicolor through the lens of apertures. It starts to rain in Pasay.)
.
I see children swift-bodied in the streets. I hear the sublime song of a defunct tractor. Once in its vitality, Earth was its derelict. How did it come to be that when I peer into the openness, light slouches into form, conjuring an image: your face, hiding amongst the crowd?
.
This is to recognize the potential of dwindles. Its vertigo that it tries to protect. Its height that it tries to conquer. Its fall that it tries to eschew. What if bones are just homes to tiny little currents and that the way our body assumes the stance of jackknife, simply a foreboding?
.
Itinabi ko sa sukal ng araw ang payong.
This is to perceive that all light lifts away from the dark, my heart always falling into its hands. Morning opens your face like delicate streets, pulverizing fog into chamomile. Silence is endemic. *Makati *buoys overseer reconnaissance of obvious beatings. Revealing a long line of ligatures -- umbilicus of wires. Serenades of futility. Our useless meanderings.
.
The depth of Sunlight finally turns primeval stone. That is our defeat -- all our darkness put to trial. I am tense with the finality: she will become parasol and I, the weather past moonlight waxing.
Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 8:38 PM UTC
Birth
comes whispering
her way
into the world.
The passing
of the days
are unmentioned,
unnoticed,
forgotten sounds.
And then,
with no forewarning,
another faint whisper,
and we have
death
at our fingertips.
In vain
do we grasp
desperately
for the fleeting
moments,
sounds,
of which we were
oblivious to
only yesterday...
which were
Ours
only yesterday.
Alas!
All is gone
far
beyond our reach,
save only yesterday's
murmuring
echoes.
cj 1971
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 11:12 PM UTC
Underwhelmed with modern magic, I let myself be taken
to a party on a strange night.
Like you, I let my lips whisper abracadabra and
kept my fears in one subtle hand.
Like you, I wanted to vanish the crowd
under a napkin -
to palm everyone into a cup under the table,
leaving a beaming new face - radiant eyes and unfamiliar tricks -
to abandon all the showmanship
exactly where it belongs.
And when all the faces peeled away to
a lively midnight wilderness
you were there, a magician
and prestidigitated into smoke and mirrors
every artifact of doubt.
There is nothing I would like more than
to have a drink with you
to have a cigarette with you
to have anything at all with you
and learn your secrets:
A longing for names unmentioned and eyes still incredulous,
and a reverence for fairy dust.
Watching the room empty,
hearing the soft chatter of their private marvels
we are alone, as we ached to be,
here, to tell our secrets, and they are these:
we are in discord with love
skeptics, so unfit for
the careless faith and
grasping vigilance of hearts our age.
Now, in this cabaret,
"goodnight" is ensorcelled into a curse, and
"come with me," a necromancy uttered
to give to dead hopes new dimensions.
Here, I would read every book under the sun,
work my fingers into knotted idleness,
believe in every fantasy
to learn your secrets.
Under the snowfall, we kiss like Chinese rings
but you know as well as I do
that quick enchantments are a thin fable,
and instant magic does not exist.
Feb 23, 2010
Feb 23, 2010 at 10:45 AM UTC
SHE rose to his towering rule,
The plaything of his life -
Love's rusting tool,
Of husband and wife.
She hath paid her heart's due -
Once struck by Death's love bow,
Her senses laid few,
Far from what she used to know.
Her heart lays upon Death's trail,
Bleeding endless waves -
Forevermore without fail,
Until she meets the graves.
Love she missed in the new day,
Of glorious awe -
Under the showers of May,
Her beating heart still raw.
Unmentioned tensions galore,
In that home just down the road,
The marriage they both bore -
Where blood soon flowed.
Alas, the man's mind!
Possessed was he,
By Death's kind -
To forever torment she.
Bleak stormy dreary eve,
Where an ominous draft -
Set Death's yarn to weave,
Death's conniving craft.
Spirits had swallowed he,
Consuming his soul -
And burdening she,
So the funeral bells may toll.
This phantasm he may abide,
Love's ending scythe -
Against her butchered hide,
The forces Death may writhe.
And behind that home,
Just down the little road -
The blood may roam,
For the marriage she abode.
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 12:47 AM UTC
Fountains past a milky one
blinded spots of spoilt stones
darkened pebbles of loath
turned to a necrotic lesion
tensions of unmentioned
tractions of the substitute
for the light I saw dimmed
Such a rapid trim discarded
as if it never breathed or existed
Such a polish of luminance
evaporated over the unseen clouds
and all the edges are now scratched
summed in all the misspoken words
Why did you even want to play?
with a mass as big as whale
a sail of the disproportionate
abstracted dissonance as accorded
too quick to run away from the red flags
footsteps of the unmarked foot steps
in filtered tracks of a chauvinist prokaryote
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 9:40 AM UTC
Across the room I watch you from afar
So much to see, so much to admire
I can only gawk in awe:
Shimmering softly beneath the party
lights
Delicate as fine porcelain, elegant just
like a China doll
Little Perky ! diminutive little button
of a nose
A sublime protuberance, with a
wonderful angular symmetry;
Like a beautiful ballerina in the centre
of the face
One lonely Cinderella, forever
overlooked and unsung
Neglected, passed over, the great
unmentioned one;
So still and so quiet, mysterious like a
question mark -
"Little Perky, don't you fret, I! Me!
I'll be your poet though a poor poet I
be
I'll hold up your charms for the whole
wide world to see,
I'll be your dashing Prince too, if you
let me".
Finely chiselled, exquisitely sculpted
Better than any Michaelangelo
And I love the little wiggle;
How silently you sit there and how
patient, enduring all
Stuck between the two drama Queens
Eyes all painted up, that flit and dart
Twinkling and fluttering outrageously
like their a class apart,
And a rouged up Mouth's sulky lips,
burning rubber
Busy gabbing away, running off like a
wild piano;
But then there's you Little Perky,
simplicity itself
Shy bulbous beauty, a throwback to
childhoods innocent days:
Like the others, you play the game
You go along but it's not the same,
See you sniff into your little hankie
And know that beneath, you're
probably not all that happy,
You seem to say (to me at least)
" I hoped for more, I dreamt - I dreamt
of other things
And other nights than these".
I see you Little Perky, I see you all
alone in your lonely prison cell
I hear your sniffles, your silent sobs
and sighs.
When pinned in the corner and
assailed from all sides
My eyes, they secretly run to your
quiet hill, that lonely mountain,
Like Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights
I'll wait for you Little One
I'll wait for you there..... my Cathy
(O! lovely wild and spirited Cathy)
I'll wait for you through the wind, the
rain and the snow
I'll wait for you to come
I'll wait for the real 'You' to show,
Beyond all the bravado and the big
bluster notes
Beyond the crowds constraining looks
I'll wait for you, my Love,
We'll laugh again, and dance beneath
the stars
We'll live the dreams that once we had.
Little Perky, sweet alarm bell of the
soul, shiny little bugle that gleams
Go on now, give it one more blow
One huge giant elephantine blast
That'll sweep them all away
And leave only you and me here,
alone at last
Facing each other across this floor
O! Little Perky, my Cinderella, my
Cathy.......my Heart!
May 1, 2018
May 1, 2018 at 6:27 PM UTC
She is not folded in the crooks
of crooked grins
or enveloped in the yuks
that follow poorly executed jokes.
She pays no mind
as she singes the edges
of those brave enough
to approach her.
She spits on empathy
and disregards
the “what ifs” or “why nots.”
Rarely spoken aloud,
she is deafening
when confined to quiet corners,
and will lurk there,
unmentioned and unforgotten.
When permitted to surface,
she looks nothing like you’d expect—
badly disguised and undeniably
ugly,
with unforgiving features
that have been bent and twisted—
coated with
a sticky sugary sheen.
She demands to be considered,
as she slides, jagged and bitter,
off of the tongue
and into the light.
She’s always there,
regardless of any acknowledgement—
closer than we desired,
bigger than we imagined,
wiser than we hoped.
She, the *****
that we are forced
to shake hands with.
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 2:07 PM UTC
Fear not Pride.
For, I find,
Pride is necessary
to bring about certain opportunities
by which One may perhaps
learn.
I'd wager
t'is Hubris
what beareth truly immediate Danger.
Pride
can somewhat force One into various scenarios
wherein One is somewhat forced to come to terms with certain things within one's own Mind, or perhaps socially or philosophically, or some other combinations of the aforementioned and/or hitherto-unmentioned things.
Hubris, by possible continuation,
tends to sway One to overlook certain aforementioned etc. things,
and thus tends to preclude much further character development in sometimes only a few, but much more often many aspects
of one's One Life.
Tragedy indeed!
Tread lightly-
seek always Balance-
whatsoever that may mean to you-specifically-and-only-you
rather than necessarily bowing to preordained notions of Good or Bad,
for such polarity (besides being a false dichotomy)
is, shall we say:
unhealthy.
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 5:27 PM UTC
I'm a bit confused,
Slightly terrified,
Been having these thoughts,
They're getting hard to hide.
My mind's been roaming,
Exploring itself,
So I have some things I'd like to share.
I see all these people suffer,
But I have no clue what to say,
So here's to all of you,
What I've written,
'Cause things might not be going your way.
For the lovers,
I envy you,
Your heart,
Shall never see darkness,
Your heart,
Shall be connected with your mind,
Your heart,
That thing that it holds so dear,
Shall never cease to work in your favour,
And at every fatal ending,
Shall your heart recover,
Quickly,
'Cause the world needs you,
To keep on loving.
For the dreamers,
Oh how I love how you are,
So full of ideas,
Your mind,
Shall never lose it's colours,
Your mind,
Shall never lead you astray,
Your mind,
Those things that fly around in it,
Shall never be discouraged,
Never lose hope,
'Cause without you,
The world won't be so innovative.
For the hopeful,
I'm just like you,
Although that hope is false sometimes,
Never stop hoping,
Your hopes,
Shall not cause you pain,
Your hopes,
Shall bring pleasant ends,
Your hopes,
Whatever they may be for,
Shall never bring you regrets,
And remember that you're not exactly naive,
You're just needed,
And so you might experience repeated events,
'Cause without you,
The dreamers might lose hope.
For the depressed,
I'm one of you,
And I have a lot to say to you,
You,
Don't deserve whatever you're going through,
Never think that you do,
You,
Shall find happiness,
Hopefully soon,
You,
Shall become one of the hopeful,
And never lose faith,
You,
Whatever it is that you're going through,
Shall not defeat you,
If you think it has,
I want to meet you,
'Cause you keep me going everyday,
Remind me that I'm not alone.
For the suicidal,
You are worth a lot,
Your pain,
Shall not takeover you,
Your pain,
Shall not control your actions,
Your pain,
However painful it may be,
Is not the only thing you can feel,
Keep holding on,
'Cause you give me a reason to live,
You are amazing no matter what anyone says,
And I can't lose my best friend,
Not in that way.
For the fearful,
I was once like you,
Your fears,
Shall not control your life,
Your fears,
Shall only give you something to fight,
Your fears,
Whatever they are of,
Shall not define your might,
You are stronger than you think,
'Cause without you,
Too many people would be oblivious.
For the happy,
I dream to be like you,
Your happiness,
Shall never seize,
Your heart,
Shall forever sparkle with joy,
You,
Shall never forget others,
'Cause for many,
What you have is a dream,
And who better to help attain something,
Than those who possess it.
For those unmentioned,
You are nothing but important,
Whatever category you fall into,
Is special like any other,
You're in my mind and in my heart,
There's just so many,
I wish I could remember,
So peace and love be with everyone who reads this,
Forever.
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC
Some things for which I'm grateful always seem to go unmentioned
And I'd like to tell these things to you that clearly deserve attention
I'd like to thank you for the times that I needed your help
The calls you answered every time in sickness and in health
I know it might seem strange to give my thanks for all the struggles
For all the little things for which I managed to get in trouble.
For some reason you accept me and I find that quite absurd
But I'd like to reciprocate and give you my sincere word
That regardless of what you do, regardless of what you say
I'll be there for you no matter what at the end of every day
I'm grateful for you always and I'm grateful this thanksgiving
I'm grateful for my friends that always make my life worth living.
I'm grateful that God blessed the path that I chose to take
The path that led me to meeting you, just a culmination of my mistakes
The mistakes I made, the struggles I faced, and the stupid things I've done
I've lost so many times but finding you means that I won.
I've lost so many people but I've won so many more
And I'm thankful for every open window and every deadlocked door.
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 3:45 PM UTC
A timely observation; complacently inscribed,
finding truth in aberration and restitution in denial.
So long conversely spoken, unmentioned but believed:
to live without intention and die conventionally.
With wide consideration, the bearer must unload
a prideful commendation: what glory in control!
Internally awoken, vehemently believed:
to live without conventions and die intentionally
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 7:56 PM UTC
Peace of not many years we
forgot those unheard.
Who gave their all? in wars we fight one after another?
Goodbye, we think
we have said; Thank you
we decide we have said, enough.
To ease our common conscience.
But, isn't it all too late?
When the cold is written on the paper about
the brains in pieces?
Killed by deaf ears passing, ignoring
the screams, down
to the next
generation?
Going unanswered.
Often unmentioned.
We stand hand on heart on Memorial day.
We salute with abandon.
Thinking we give a tribute worthy of the sacrifice given.
Those who screamed into deaf ears
abandoned. Alone .
They gave their
all.
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 1:45 AM UTC
Go to sleep
A world on the mind
So many secrets
To be found in time
Wish for more
In a world of redundancy
Don't believe everything
That you see on T.V.
A secret kept
On a pretty pink mouth
Just wishing for some way
For it to get out
Sit on the edge
And flirt with danger
Live laugh and love
And speak to a stranger
A whisper
Taken on a sudden wind
A friendship lost
And found again
Written words
And words never said
Trapped inside
Of someone's hurting head
A strum of a guitar
and a lyric sung
A soul unraveled
And thoughts undone
A shy smile
Come to light
A lonely child
Afraid of the night
A sudden beat
In a heart's desire
A bottle smashed
A raging fire
A swingset
Sitting all alone
A missing item
To the world unknown
A burning want
For the things unmentioned
A lowered voice
To catch your attention
A glance to the sides
And cautious words
The power there
To heal or to hurt
Secrets are kept
And secrets are told
Some of them new
Most of them old
In the shadow of the day
And the whisper of the wind
Your secrets wait
To be found again
Dec 11, 2010
Dec 11, 2010 at 6:42 AM UTC
With Ma Lil **** Dill
one bilabial fricative smacking
tongue thrusting (lizard like)
indefatigable prelapsarian
Garden of Eden dwelling primate
doth pine with two lipped treating zest
for Eve fun juiced a tasty droplet, wrest
ting kitty meowing Mz er loo,
sans verboten fruit Yukon die vest
via jump starting
a hovering damn
electric kool aid acid test
Hair and there, a bare naked lady attired
in her birthday suit, the sexiest
plump ***** roseate
sear suckered ******* trickling milky nectar
when casting shadowed umbra at rest
thirsting, unleashing, vaunting,
et cetera viz prurient quest,
whereby this rambunctious
***** bull lever severely oppressed
condemned with life sentence
of ****** solitude, nest
souled (sorely testing
agonizing Victorian modest
tee primly and properly
tortures carnal temptation lest
surrendering syllabus "C" ) even jest
a jot, cuz tis pure torture restraining
feral, hormonal, integral hankering
to stoke libido at Parochialism be hest
thus, aye feel unfairly deprived,
no hello kitty will be guest
unsure how helpful "getting off my chest"
works thee unnatural tethered
****** suppression, perhaps best
left unmentioned, encumbered
with jiggly, flabby droopy breast
works, and unwanted love handles
state of reined swiftly tailored
harried stylishly groomed
FitBit bridled uncertainty I attest.
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 10:00 PM UTC
Twilight whispers
Dreaming fingertips
In the candle's soft glow
Sweet air, melody and harmony
Painting voices in your eyes.
Shadow dancing
With the perfect reflection,
My clear vision
You shimmer;
Fading back to blind.
Too many quiet times
Between cacophonies of silence
The hysteria of nothing
What to do
Unmentioned glances.
Gallantly standing against
Agony to be waiting
Wings of desires,
What could be
Only an apparition's dream.
What, so...
Black and white
Quietly in and out of
Softly focus...
May 11, 2010
May 11, 2010 at 6:55 PM UTC
Ebony...
Coco...
Sun-kissed...
A gentle tone of brown that left in in the blue...
Feeling sneaked in...
Creeped in beneath my unsuspecting skin...
Every color seemed brighter...bolder...
Chance or be it fate...?
endorphins combined fused with electrostatics of the mind...
Or a new tune to a previously non rhythmic heart...
At glance the eyes drew the stars nearer...
For no insensible reason the skyline of semi light houses bare song...a rather smooooth velvety song...like silk through every note...
I say and "quote"...
"Leave nothing to chance for that might be fate at first glance"...
Tales long told foretold magic fading with post modern belief...
No fib or tomfoolery...
This at best be...the unmentioned
I dare not use the word in-vain
Best it remain unwritten
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 2:17 AM UTC