"unveiling" poems
Sitting on the corner while Starring
At the glances of your smile all over
Cover the room by your face unveiling
Up to this moment, I want to be near,
(you were a mile from here)
Thinking It was cloudy on my mind,
But when you are here by my side
You are making my day as bright
Showing the beauty behind,
(They have nothing to hide,
nothing to hide.)
How deep is the ocean trenches?
How far is the stars throughout the abyss?
How much warm is your embraces?
How much cold Is your lips to kiss?
l don’t much care about counting all of these,
As long as you are with me, you are my bliss
(I could tell,) heaven’s gate is not the place of happiest
And angels are not those prettiest,
Indeed, God is always be the wisest,
For sending me a fallen angel, I’ve caught the brightest, the brightest
Lately, You stole what between these lungs
You open my chest, You let it pour, my bleeding heart
I cant deny, how i feel, you are my crush
I have been stunned on Your eye lashes, (glances, perfume scents, and blushes)
How deep is the ocean trenches?
How far is the stars throughout the abyss?
How much warm is your embraces?
How much cold Is your lips to kiss?
Do I have to care about all of that anymore,
As long as you are with me, what should I have to ask for?
Emerald, jade, diamond, gold and silver,
I guess nothing is forever, unless me and you
In this world of deception, anyone can be a liar
Just remember, Nothing is to fear, I am always here.
.......I am always here.
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 8:19 AM UTC
Today I feel light and free
As my hair is caressed by the breeze
Bright, beautiful, magical
Today has promised and will fulfil
Today, I rise in glory
Like a Phoenix reborn from ashes
Beautifully clothed in red satin sashes
Glorious like Pegasus on Mount Olympus
Today I rise, I soar in splendour
As the day keeps unveiling all her grandeur
Let the chains of yesterday break away!
Today is here, I will not cling to yesterday!
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 2:36 PM UTC
born in illusory chains
gnarled metal
encrusted in my broken skin
the copper colored dust
of rusted steel
infectiously envelopes
shaving off antiquated layers
of fundamentalist religion
encrusted for generations
unpeeled until raw
an unsophisticated method
unveiling
ancient lodged glass shards
colored with deceit
brought before their court
interrogated
unfathomably skewered
an eerie salem witch trial
in modern times
barbarically they shun me
banished
i wander aimlessly
smelling the rotten decay of deceased community
as splinters pierce my feet
from the crooked wooden plank
i walk alone now
an unfathomable inner ache
kindled a residue within
igniting a wildfire from the darkest shadows
uncontainably erupting
i dance savagely
naked in the orange moonlight
and in every shaded edge
lit my soul ablaze
i am a nomad sheep
‘tho not one of their color
no pasture to contain me
no shepherd i can follow
theological safety nets
no longer there to catch me
bohemian-like
i plunge
free falling
plummeting
stripped wide open
magically
fearlessness
reverses gravitation
floating
untethered
i soar amongst
apricot tinged clouds
my skin still wet from rebirth
and rise with the flaming coral sun
you cannot destroy me
i twisted in your decrepit pencil sharpener
and with fresh mettle
cut through the chains that bound
you can have my ego
but you cannot have my soul
dismantling domestication
transcending limitation
wildly untamed
i fly
©2016janetaylor
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 6:40 AM UTC
*Naked bodies— blind
Spark of ****** fingers light
Eyes closed, lips seeing*
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 11:05 PM UTC
~
oh sun set at sunset,
oh set sun divine;
oh sun set at sunset,
oh set sun on mine.
each finger a print,
each palm in your hands,
each color a glint,
from immeasurable sands.
no out-of-time dance,
’tis artistic mystique,
no step left to chance,
it’s unveiling unique;
each a palette’s adieu,
as sunset's wine tips
with a lover's, ‘helloo’,
to kiss twilight lips.
forever the lover,
a gifting, a sign,
as dusk throws its covers
o’er the love it enshrines.
oh sun set at sunset,
my lover is you,
oh sun set at sunset,
'sweetest dreams’ to you too.
~
*post script.
watching a sunset always reminds me
of the ardent kiss of two lover’s
bidding each other, ’good night!’*
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 11:22 PM UTC
The wind wrestles with my hair and fills my cheeks with pink.
The thickness of the day surrenders to the coolness of the night.
Fleeting hues of violet and yellow set my heart on fire--a promise of warmth.
The world is still.
But the fire goes out and the shadows flood in:
unveiling the deepest depths of darkness.
And yet, the stars scream out:
The sun will rise again,
The sun will rise again.
Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 10:50 PM UTC
A calm and cool breeze
Passes through the leaves of the trees,
Persuading the branches to sway,
Like algae in a turbulent sea.
Without a cloud in the pale blue Arizona sky,
The sun radiates down-- hot and glaring.
It reflects off the shiny paint of the cars around me,
Illuminates the brown mountains in the distance.
And magnified through the thick lenses of my glasses,
It blinds my sensitive eyes.
The surrounding sempiternal desert
Is so clear and sharp,
That no one nor nothing can hide
(With the exception of the beings who can blend,
And despite my tiring efforts,
I am not one of them.)
The nearest Creosote bush
Eminates of the smell of water,
As it passes through a hose.
I am instantly transported back home
Where sand is replaced by grass and plants
That require regular watering to survive.
When I close my eyes I can see
The illusion of a waterfall, created by the uncoiling hose
As it ejects tepid water for us to traverse.
But upon unveiling my windows,
I allow the sandy landscape to penetrate into my soul
And I am brought back to the present
Where life subsists, illogically,
Through a dearth of water, and inordinate sun.
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC
Plenary veils...infinitely unveiling the bride--
her face will never be seen, ovoid porcelain,
angling candles...upon a UFO altar.
The relentless Hand that pinches and lifts her
veils...has seen her face, and kissed her lips
so many times--that her infinite unveiling...
is love's ****** regress...a deathless imagining
made real.
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 9:16 PM UTC
Tomorrow we have all
the good reasons to wake.
The earth’s column
down the sky will stay high!
The same old first light will break out,
unveiling once more the face of earth.
Log on now it’s present,
don’t let it vanish away!
Many a time rallies of clouds
shroud the blue sky.
There is no need for anyone
then just to turn away.
The stars too illume
the sky with dim lights.
Maybe the chaste moon
then comes out swimming low
in the orb of the night.
So the sun, too, for a while
goes off into the hide.
Only to show up soon and align
above the earth’s column.
Atop a blooming new dawn
with the rose facing the sun
aligning to it’s shining polished line
passes through the present time.
So don’t just let it slip away!
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 10:37 PM UTC
The name sounds alien,
But it seems to be ours,
Belonging to the earth.
There might not be a more enchanting thing,
Than these Northern Lights;
In green and pink,
Like curtains in the sky,
Ready to be raised,
Unveiling a beautiful surprise.
The spectators are less,
(About only a million,)
But the scene keeps on going,
The lights dancing,
Apparently,
To some silent,
Unheard beats.
It looks to have captured my eyes,
For they are glued to it.
And wouldn’t stop gazing,
Till the end of the life.
The green becomes lighter,
With a tinge of pink,
Then the pink dominates.
It looks like a confused kid’s painting,
Unable to decide, which colour to choose,
For the shades keep on changing.
The snow in dark,
Having only these to reflect,
Looks so pure,
So serene,
And frozen,
As it should be.
And still,
As it could be.
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 12:40 PM UTC
An artist,
Bleeding his heart into the canvas
Carefully planning his masterpiece
Dutifully paying attention to every detail.
Emotionally drained,
Forced to finish his work
Grueling over an uninviting crowd
Helpless to the impending backlash
Inspired, the artist continues
Just to prove his critics wrong
Knowing that his work will be amazing
Loving himself even more
Meticulously painting his beautiful image
Never letting stamina get to him
Opening his mind to a grand illusion
Presented to him by an transcendent figure
Questioning if what he saw was true
Reveling in the moment of it all
Slowly, the artist comes to a finish
Trapping the moment inside of his easel
Unveiling to the crowd was his final test
Vociferously, he explained his masterpiece
When all of a sudden, the artist begins to run
Xenophobia had stricken him
You now know why most artists are obscure.
Zealous fans always ruin everything.
Oct 23, 2011
Oct 23, 2011 at 3:12 PM UTC
*taste of salt air and nectar'd apricot brandy
musky scent of silken satin sheet'd sin
lips bruised of unfurled ecstasy
coral fire in the ***** ignited rapturous essence
eyes glistening in the moment of a little death
soul of a poet on the edge of reflective verse
once chosen surrender in zest's soulful unveiling
blithely trapped stargazing unto eternity's sublimity*
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 12:00 PM UTC
Lo! ’tis a gala night
Within the lonesome latter years!
An angel throng, bewinged, bedight
In veils, and drowned in tears,
Sit in a theatre, to see
A play of hopes and fears,
While the orchestra breathes fitfully
The music of the spheres.
Mimes, in the form of God on high,
Mutter and mumble low,
And hither and thither fly—
Mere puppets they, who come and go
At bidding of vast formless things
That shift the scenery to and fro,
Flapping from out their Condor wings
Invisible Wo!
That motley drama—oh, be sure
It shall not be forgot!
With its Phantom chased for evermore,
By a crowd that seize it not,
Through a circle that ever returneth in
To the self-same spot,
And much of Madness, and more of Sin,
And Horror the soul of the plot.
But see, amid the mimic rout
A crawling shape intrude!
A blood-red thing that writhes from out
The scenic solitude!
It writhes!—it writhes!—with mortal pangs
The mimes become its food,
And the angels sob at vermin fangs
In human gore imbued.
Out—out are the lights—out all!
And, over each quivering form,
The curtain, a funeral pall,
Comes down with the rush of a storm,
And the angels, all pallid and wan,
Uprising, unveiling, affirm
That the play is the tragedy, “Man,”
And its hero the Conqueror Worm.
4.3k
by: MissPine
Confidante — that's what I am seeking.
Over a thousand tears are still falling.
Longing for what they called love.
Only time could tell how it is tough.
Rollercoaster rides of painful stuff.
Come to me, Oh Clementine!
Omniscient I may be, but I am just a teen.
Dry my eyes as well as this heart of mine.
Empty my mind from thoughts once hide.
Dream about love is just like a tide.
Confident I am in this journey called life.
Rushed imaginations end not be by knife.
Unveiling on what I always been aiming.
Stop for seconds, guess I'm still dreaming.
Hope this be the last game I'm playing.
Who is that confidante I am looking?
The 'Color-coded Crush' who I'm loving.
Nov 22, 2018
Nov 22, 2018 at 7:49 AM UTC
The darkness that consumed me made me feel like wanting
to die, even before the age of nine.
However, let's count our blessings that none of the individuals
in the house owned a nine. I find myself engulfed in these thoughts,
I make a desperate plea to hold on, just like hanging
clothes on a line.
The voices inside my head ring relentlessly, like an
ominous chorus on this figurative suicidal line.
__1-800-273-8255__
Please could you pick up, it's feeling serious this time.
My heart remains motionless, resembling a lifeless mannequin, and if you look closely, you may witness the damages.
I cautiously open the door to my own insanity, but the idea of grappling with its dark influence feels overwhelmingly intimidating,— I can't handle this.
Fear grips me as I contemplate unveiling my eyes, for I
dread the somber reality that they will behold.
Once again, I urge my thoughts to remain steadfast, like
clothing hung on a line, as the echoes of the voices -
The voices inside my head ring relentlessly, like an
ominous chorus on this figurative suicidal line.
__1-800-273-8255__
Please could you pick up, it's feeling serious this time.
A peculiar itch consumes my lips, almost as if I long for
the Death's kisses. Within the depths of my depression, I struggle to maintain a sense of identity, for this overwhelming sadness has become my greatest weakness. I endeavor to traverse the arduous path of mental instability, navigating the metaphorical distance of a "crazy mile".
However, I feel invisible, unnoticed by the world as I bear witness to my own pain. The allure of escapism entices me, enticing me to run towards the temporary relief that a blade may bring,— cutting myself more this time.
Once again, I beseech my thoughts to cling tightly, like
clothes delicately draped on a line.
The voices inside my head ring relentlessly, like an
ominous chorus on this figurative suicidal line.
__1-800-273-8255__
Please could you pick up, it's feeling serious this time.
Dec 25, 2023
Dec 25, 2023 at 9:37 PM UTC
In the dreary hour of the just-dawn,
your life painted in grim notes,
you are alone with all your Self;
The trees all asleep in grey tones,
lamps that gave light all night,
become pale packets of wastage;
A gust of wind pours in
carrying the songs of birds
singing to the unveiling skies.
A new morning comes rushing
on the waves of the mellow sea
from worlds beyond the horizon:
A day rises, when you drop all
the burdens you long carried
on your life-weary shoulders.
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 3:09 PM UTC
*Inside the tropical seas,
Sits a pinkish-red coral, in a lovely pose,
Like an elegant piece of jewel,
Concealed underwater, at dusk,
Unveiling, as the sun graciously arose.
Reflecting a fine portrait,
Of nature's gifted qualities,
Beneath the azure skies, and surrounded by sparkling waters,
A spectacular picturesque scenery,
Releasing all of my worries and ties.*
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 6:23 PM UTC
i've always been
afraid of
unveiling the mask
frightened to
enter the stage
scared to silence
by the applause
i don't want to
i don't need to
*
because he's playing with me
the entire act
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
Curtains, veils of virtual vice
So, gaze through the ****** intermix
of positional latency,
nano-notions lost in frantic phantasm,
requisites of an idle, unhealed mind.
Draw the virtual screen curtains open,
bring forth the lustful images to
feed the circuitous appetite, lurking
front-row-presence, at the keys.
Unknown, undertones
of desirability, poses in patient wait,
online implication of fallen ways,
predication of unveiling moments.
As any-time-porn pours its spill
of sickest gratification behind
the curtain tab selective viewing.
It is someone’s child the glides on rails
of drawn conclusions, through windows
where drapes of cyber mindlessness
hang on dank walls of seedy buildings.
The ***** grinder always plays the tune
to which monkeys happily dance,
in a world where Neanderthals hang out,
unperturbed with new technology.
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 9:44 AM UTC
Naked bodies— blind,
Spark of ****** fingers light,
Eyes closed, lips seeing.
Jan 9, 2013
Jan 9, 2013 at 1:52 PM UTC
It’s irritating,
When words seem to be
Unfaithful blemishes
Of yesterday’s past,
And a constant annoyance,
Unwitting today’s unknown.
To think about your what if’s,
And should don’ts of,
Repetitive reminders from the scars,
Engraved in you’re witty,
But beating heart is a daring,
Challenge to an unfaithful mind.
The fear to hold joy,
When a dark rose neglects,
The power of a white one,
In it’s purified significance,
Unveiling the worth and,
And the death of its own demise.
But no one realizes the faithful
Beauty of a dark rose.
To sting, to warn to challenge,
To be truthful to the subconscious,
Of the heart that also has protection,
Held and brace by pericardium.
Even the heart needs to be comforted,
And the mind in need of consolation,
So remove the stones blocking your eyes,
From your visual death,
Of growth and compassion,
Love is blind,
The mind is weak.
Then there is fear,
You can overcome.
So overcome it,
With the passion in your eyes,
The smile that you have,
For the very truth of your wellbeing.
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 9:20 AM UTC
Melting snow and chill winds.
Wisconsin spring days,
where the only heat is the sun's rays
through a clear sky.
***** snow piles
on the sides of the street in the city.
Puddles on cracked concrete.
The scent of unveiling foliage
on the breeze.
Quiet moments alone,
the calm before the storm.
Dead to the world
but never feeling so alive
as thoughts creep in.
Wishing things could've been different
Wishing no one had to be wounded so.
Take me back to slow life.
Take me back to no cares.
I wasn't planning to survive.
Sep 23, 2022
Sep 23, 2022 at 12:01 PM UTC
tire ishq kī intihā chāhtā huuñ
mirī sādgī dekh kyā chāhtā huuñ
Your infinite love, I desire
Look at my humility what I desire
sitam ** ki ** vada-e-be-hijābī
koī baat sabr-āzmā chāhtā huuñ
Fury or your audacious-unveiling
Something fortitude-testing I desire
ye jannat mubārak rahe zāhidoñ ko
ki maiñ aap kā sāmnā chāhtā huuñ
Heavens be favourable for the religious
But us ever-so close, facing each other is what I desire
zarā sā to dil huuñ magar shoḳh itnā
vahī lan-tarānī sunā chāhtā huuñ
A tiny heart but so spirited I am
To hear those words ‘’By no means canst thou see Me’’ I desire
koī dam kā mehmāñ huuñ ai ahl-e-mahfil
charāġh-e-sahar huuñ bujhā chāhtā huuñ
Determined guest I am O’ people of assembly
Morning lamp I am, quenching I desire
bharī bazm meñ raaz kī baat kah dī
baḌā be-adab huuñ sazā chāhtā huuñ
Within a full gathering I have disclosed the secret
So impolite I am, your punishment I desire
Note:
Moses prays to God for guidance and begs God to reveal himself to him. It is narrated in the Quran that God tells him that it would not be possible for Moses to perceive God, but that He would reveal himself to the mountain, stating: "By no means canst thou see Me (direct); But look upon the mount; if it abide in its place, then shalt thou see Me." When God reveals himself to the mountain, it instantaneously turns into ashes, and Moses loses consciousness. When he recovers, he goes down in total submission and asks forgiveness of God.
✒ Translated by ℐamil Hussain
Words of Muhammad Iqbal
Apr 18, 2022
Apr 18, 2022 at 11:14 PM UTC
i.
Alow downward Reyna, humanity hunger's and kill's,
Red liquid they do spill, despoiling, toiling, taking
Lucifer's fill;
ii.
We canst only watcheth queen, as their working's and dream's,
Get untied by the string's, of the fine unseen line, of the principalities and power's.
iii.
Henceforth the hour's, shalt be as fading flower's, they shalt seeith their government's and darkened power's; falleth as the star's, men who knoweth none boundaries, God shalt rattle the mountain's and deep, as a harlot to her patron. Though the patron's sleep.
iv.
We shalt endureth this paining moment amour', the cosmic chronograph is opening door's; erelong love, erelong amour', we shalt sit at a feasting table, wherein the beau monde that hast Satan's barcoded label, shalt not perch. The flame shalt quench it's thirst, as recreation below us takes it's course. For ourn creator spoke this Jane, in the beginning. The world's lost it's way, it needeth cleansing from the sinning. As we shalt be restored by reconnecting on higher planes. To be reborn, in the spirit again.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedicated
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 7:18 PM UTC