"unquenching" poems
Darkness invadeth my empty soul/
With and unquenching thirst to watch the world fall/
Society is doomed to the tomb
Cause we dug our own graves/
The manner in which we behave, displays/
How easily we are swayed//
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 1:59 PM UTC
It was on that Eve of softness and sighs
that a deepest passion of uncontrollable want,
unlike any other want that has reached the cyclone heart,
and truly not ever being experienced in its perpetual emotion,
claimed for its own my soul.
lo! how magnificent and admirable is the
obtainment of emotion, let alone passion!
One will discover, quickly, the unquenching and
infinite magnitude of life's bulwark lion.
Passion, oh passion!
You have moved empires, destroyed worlds, ignited revolutions.
You have seduced Helen, inspired Shakespeare, corrupted Lenin
and now you have me.
What will you do with me?
Through chance and fate I have become your servant.
There is no returning after the whirlpool ***** one
into the cavity of longing.
One will forever long and forever be captivated
in the stare of true beauty.
For passion is true beauty and master.
I ask again "what will you do with me?"
Will you forsake me and leave me crawling
to a light that is not rightfully mine? Or,
will I be granted solace in the haven of an embrace?
One can only wish that it will never end
and a kiss remains as sweet as a rose.
Your ever humble and obedient servant,
Taibhsear
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 11:22 PM UTC
Your deep seated treasure trove of words on love
layeth at the throne and is sealed in a crystal case,
meant to be broken in case
there is an a famish in the kingdoms,
an unquenching,
an unending,
an unfading
hunger for love.
The haybarn of mild prosperity.
It transitions with frequencies
ranging from the cosmic dimesions of the galaxies
to the unforgiving, mauve depths of the ocean.
It resonates with my ambivalent soul,
at an existential level
as thy velveteen buds
are of my photvoltaic stem.
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 10:44 PM UTC
Arise, O ye unworthy sons
Conceived in the belly of an harmless zebra
Raised by fathers of gutless mind
Who dug our Graves with golds
Gotten from their unquenching cravings for dusted
Fantasy of our shoveled dreams
.
They battled with the ones in white skin
"heroes" they were called, cause they fought
In one anchor
The sang of songs from the lips like birds
Defending their territory, lyriced freedom.
.
But the corpse of shame litters our gaze
The injured hearts with withered hope of greatness
Bleed our progress
So we weep heavily in saddened outburst
Cause we failed and our blood has turned black
For we "unworthy sons" they begot
.
The black bird of woes cries in a desolate
Place
For even the bones mourn us for their odds
We are!
Of what now be their heroic deeds?
Of what scores now be their victory?
For we search apprecia-fun,
When our little knowledge is torn.
.
©️ Balogun David Tolulope
{drunk poet}
2017
Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 11:48 AM UTC
I was Choke to affirmity
In a compromising stance
A course of no regrets
A desire that's undeniable
What a pleasant mood
Unquenching thirst of fun
With a Lap tempting dance
ah, An engulf emotion
But Short lived moment
Wasn't I choked by illusion
A virtual love blinded by lustful vision
An undeniable motive of wanting
Of an unquenching thirst for nudity
A portrait of seductive curvy outlook
The craving moment of deception
A fake composure of deceit
The abstruse feeling of the unreal
Behold, a regrettable nostalgic
Of a fallen memories
Of the affirmed mood
Of virtual affection
Of the past that came to hunt.
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 6:18 AM UTC
This escape, the illusion within that we are profound,
Bound by desires, entirely suggestive and out of context.
The primal shift, the unquenching thirst for acceptance,
The struggle to find a peace of mind within the melancholy.
This apparent shift, from subtle cues to textbox illiteracy,
Catering to the masses, a massive reaction building.
Spiraling down, these dopamine fueled reactions transiting,
How do we escape this rabbit hole of constructed illegitimacy?
Turn your back to the crowd as hard as it may seem,
On this fueled paradox of mobilized dogma and hypocrisy.
One day you may find likeminds who speak volumes to the soul,
Free yourself from this cage, this existential identity entirely.
Escape the void, that’s created by fault lines in other’s eyes,
This crisis within, fixed with tools crafted by other’s time.
What seems to be worthwhile could be worthless in an instant,
Selective content fueling this machine of uninhibited design.
Like moths to a flame, hovering the fire that could scorch their wings,
These shadows in the sun, seeming bigger but not at all the same.
These irreverent norms guided by fallacies of ignorant beliefs,
The audience remains the same, listen to the point but leave out the tragedy.
Aug 9, 2019
Aug 9, 2019 at 11:11 AM UTC