Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"upmost" poems
Facing the day with upmost pride, Praising each ray of warm, caring, wonderful sunlight, No matter the weather, they shine brilliantly, as children of the earth Being happy about rain, these flowers only grow thankful, for what it's worth Because these rain drops may look like tears, the scene may be sad, No sound, but the gentle tapping of the falling water onto the ground, but a lone standing Helianthus won't feel bad, For it felt joy in this weather,such can be difficult for some to be found A mysterious, yet beautiful lense, once the sky opens up a little for the sunlight to travel through again, inviting a rainbow through the sound of wind, My pessimistic outlook of this weather, the raindrops looking alike tears, changed, through it's brightness, rather don't they look like jewels of some kind ? My heart won't be drenched by sorrow, Alike a helianthus, I shall look softly, gently towards the sky, Towards the azure, ceiling beyond me. ~Umi
0
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 6:05 PM UTC
Helianthus
how do you explain: i'm the one who's broken my own heart. years of allowing negativity into my cracks, tolerating it's bloom. only now trying to rip out their roots. but they have grown like weeds. manifested in my chest, tangled throughout my ribs. constricting. trying to make them love me, to make them see. now~ trying to fall back in love with myself, is really not that easy. it actually hurts more than loving any one else. because you know, more than anyone, what you're capable of. good and bad. but please, in my upmost hour of desperation, im begging myself to take myself back. she misses you. she needs you now more than ever.
0
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 7:12 PM UTC
roots
( old Irish version) i. Queen Jane, tá lá atá inniu an lá, an dara bliain mí ourn. ii. Queen jane, looketh mé ar aghaidh chuig eternity leat. iii. Queen Jane, ealaín muid mar an gcéanna á s. iv. Queen Jane, ar feadh an tsaoil chomh maith le; Infinity. v. Queen Jane, sonas neverending suthain. vi. Queen Jane, tá a chruthú bás a fháil le sciathán ar síoda. vii. Queen Jane, gan teorainn flyeth againn ar an Cosmos. viii. Queen jane, amour ourn 'láidir, TIS lánmhaith. ix. Féadfaidh na spéir s cairde dúinn, le toast. x. Dhá mhí sona, an anam mianach, Jane mianach, mianach Reyna. ( English version) i. Queen Jane, today is the day, ourn second month anniversary. ii. Queen jane, I looketh forward to an eternity with thee. iii. Queen Jane, we art the same being's. iv. Queen Jane, a lifetime plus; infinity. v. Queen Jane, perpetual neverending happiness. vi. Queen Jane, immortal creation's with wing's of silk. vii. Queen Jane, boundless we flyeth the Cosmos. viii. Queen jane, ourn amour' is strong, tis upmost. ix. May the heaven's grace us, with a toast. x. Happy two month's, mine soul, mine Jane, mine reyna. ©Brandon nagley ©Earl Jane nagley dedication ( Filipino rose) ©Lonesome poet's poetry/hari and Reyna poetry.
0
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 10:21 AM UTC
Dhá míosa, eternity go deireanach. ( Two months, eternity to last.) Old irish tongue.....(two month anniversary today for me and jane, happy Two month's reyna jane)....
Ticking the days off was exciting Yet became a living nightmare She’d had an invitation to the ball She now worried how to get there. It was the End of Year Fairies Ball Where the best of the fairies went. She’d got her gown, her fairy shoes And had made her rose petal scent. She had chosen pale green for her dress And had sewn buttercups to the hem. Little golden flowers cascaded down her With tiny leaves still attached to the stem. She had a buttercup upside down on her head With golden thread under her chin Daisies draped from her arms held tight By a tiny golden wrist pin. She looked adorable but so did the others They all looked like a story from a fairytale Nerves sometimes got the better of her So the breathing slowed down, a slow exhale. The buttercup fairy looked divine as she did Always and mingled, taking her time She ate raspberry pips and drank blossom juice And had her first sample of apple wine. She sat under an acorn and arranged her wings A robin provided a pillow for her which was nice Before he knew it she had fallen to sleep But was she about to pay the upmost price. She had missed the best dressed fairy time When all fairies were judged by the chief elf Instead this tipsy little fairy fast asleep And was sitting on a very expensive shelf. She awoke with the sound of little bells Announcing the winner of the best dress She tutted at the robin for not waking her She as angry because now she was in a mess. She now wore a face as long as a fiddle And did not care about anyone or thing She had prepared for this day since the Beginning of this year’s spring. The moral of her story don’t nestle Next to a naughty little robin with fluffed chest Otherwise you fall to sleep all afternoon And then end up seriously depressed. The buttercup fairy found some comfort In a super little bar under a mushroom And smashed her way through too much wine Which for now ended her doom and gloom. Staggering her way home in the early hours Singing over the blackbird’s morning tune She perched herself under an oak leaf And slept until the new light of the moon
0
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 3:34 AM UTC
The Buttercup Fairy
Ticking the days off was exciting Yet became a living nightmare She’d had an invitation to the ball She now worried how to get there. It was the End of Year Fairies Ball Where the best of the fairies went. She’d got her gown, her fairy shoes And had made her rose petal scent. She had chosen pale green for her dress And had sewn buttercups to the hem. Little golden flowers cascaded down her With tiny leaves still attached to the stem. She had a buttercup upside down on her head With golden thread under her chin Daisies draped from her arms held tight By a tiny golden wrist pin. She looked adorable but so did the others They all looked like a story from a fairytale Nerves sometimes got the better of her So the breathing slowed down, a slow exhale. The buttercup fairy looked divine as she did Always and mingled, taking her time She ate raspberry pips and drank blossom juice And had her first sample of apple wine. She sat under an acorn and arranged her wings A robin provided a pillow for her which was nice Before he knew it she had fallen to sleep But was she about to pay the upmost price. She had missed the best dressed fairy time When all fairies were judged by the chief elf Instead this tipsy little fairy fast asleep And was sitting on a very expensive shelf. She awoke with the sound of little bells Announcing the winner of the best dress She tutted at the robin for not waking her She as angry because now she was in a mess. She now wore a face as long as a fiddle And did not care about anyone or thing She had prepared for this day since the Beginning of this year’s spring. The moral of her story don’t nestle Next to a naughty little robin with fluffed chest Otherwise you fall to sleep all afternoon And then end up seriously depressed. The buttercup fairy found some comfort In a super little bar under a mushroom And smashed her way through too much wine Which for now ended her doom and gloom. Staggering her way home in the early hours Singing over the blackbird’s morning tune She perched herself under an oak leaf And slept until the new light of the moon
Continue reading...
52
In many ways we are all simply children, Age has no barrier does it? They say it's an individual's state of mind. Wrinkles are merely character Grey hair? I'm waiting for the next color to come in. Hoping for Pink... I think I can refuse to submit to OLD. I reach back to a 1970 Chicago Tanglewood concert on YouTube. Was it REALLY 45 years ago? Does anyone really know what time it is? Ok, I know I'm biding my time. I lost my friend last year, And just before he passed, just before his last breath... I convinced him that life doesn't end here! Journey on my brother , journey to the next dimension. Hug our loved ones..give my upmost love to my Mom & Dad I KNOW you are there in a distant galaxy because I can hear you whisper..."he was right". I love you Buddy!
0
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 11:12 PM UTC
Children of the Next Dimension
When I discovered I had cancer, I was told that I would learn a lot About Life and Death and Time, But I never thought that I would Discover what it means To be intimate With strangers, Or anyone, for that matter. When my insides were cut open like a game of operation, I told myself: Be detached. When visitors came, We talked about the weather. When I arrived home, I spent my time Trying to forget The experience Of impermanence And shared emotions That I couldn't even grapple with Myself. When the person I loved Left me I flinched And then sunk back into an abyss of Emotionless functioning, Cutting myself further and further Off from my narrative Of pain. When it was time to go back to school, I flinched And signed up for a workload Heavy enough To push out the fading reality Of my condition. It wasn't until I was sitting on the steps Outside of a bar that was slowly beginning To empty out, As intoxicated shadows gained substance and lit cigarettes against the brick wall. I sunk down next to friend I had recently met- My big t shirt inched up above my abdomen And the lower jagged mark of my scar Peeked out- I didn't choose to tell him my story Until he asked me about the obvious Stale incison mark that had a presence Of its own. Piece by piece, it peeled itself from off my stomach And liquified into a sequence of events And feelings That poured from me Like a stream of bubbling bath water Overflowing from the rim Of a porcelain tub. That's when I realized that there is something shared and intimate about scars: Marred reminders of the flesh That speak to our upmost human Encounters with our own mortality. An indecipherable label of sorts: An unsigned invitation into the taboo. In a moment of unintentional word ***** At 2am to a stranger, I regained my intimacy with myself And my journey. I learned that while Life and Death and Time Will always plague our existence, They distance us from the human experience that is To feel: To feel everything in this God forsaken world. To feel angry at people for leaving when they should have stayed. To feel compassion at the same time. To feel intimacy with others. To feel intimacy with yourself. To feel love. To feel pain. To feel the cold creases in the wooden floor as you make your way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. To feel alone. To feel surrounded. To feel the trembling echoes of the past and be able to grab its elusive coattails and shake away the dusty remnants of time and shout that you are present. To feel nothing.
0
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 1:07 AM UTC
The intimacy of scars
When I discovered I had cancer, I was told that I would learn a lot About Life and Death and Time, But I never thought that I would Discover what it means To be intimate With strangers, Or anyone, for that matter. When my insides were cut open like a game of operation, I told myself: Be detached. When visitors came, We talked about the weather. When I arrived home, I spent my time Trying to forget The experience Of impermanence And shared emotions That I couldn't even grapple with Myself. When the person I loved Left me I flinched And then sunk back into an abyss of Emotionless functioning, Cutting myself further and further Off from my narrative Of pain. When it was time to go back to school, I flinched And signed up for a workload Heavy enough To push out the fading reality Of my condition. It wasn't until I was sitting on the steps Outside of a bar that was slowly beginning To empty out, As intoxicated shadows gained substance and lit cigarettes against the brick wall. I sunk down next to friend I had recently met- My big t shirt inched up above my abdomen And the lower jagged mark of my scar Peeked out- I didn't choose to tell him my story Until he asked me about the obvious Stale incison mark that had a presence Of its own. Piece by piece, it peeled itself from off my stomach And liquified into a sequence of events And feelings That poured from me Like a stream of bubbling bath water Overflowing from the rim Of a porcelain tub. That's when I realized that there is something shared and intimate about scars: Marred reminders of the flesh That speak to our upmost human Encounters with our own mortality. An indecipherable label of sorts: An unsigned invitation into the taboo. In a moment of unintentional word ***** At 2am to a stranger, I regained my intimacy with myself And my journey. I learned that while Life and Death and Time Will always plague our existence, They distance us from the human experience that is To feel: To feel everything in this God forsaken world. To feel angry at people for leaving when they should have stayed. To feel compassion at the same time. To feel intimacy with others. To feel intimacy with yourself. To feel love. To feel pain. To feel the cold creases in the wooden floor as you make your way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. To feel alone. To feel surrounded. To feel the trembling echoes of the past and be able to grab its elusive coattails and shake away the dusty remnants of time and shout that you are present. To feel nothing.
Continue reading...
79
Parents, teachers, guardians, all authority figures have put this importance this upmost importance on the loss of innocence but they have not stood in the shoes of the teenagers of this age the teenagers who have lost their innocence (or if you are apart of the lucky group you are on the cusp of losing it) its not just the physical aspect in fact it has nothing to do with having *** at all losing your innocence is much much more. Its the first time you see your mom popping pills through the crack in the door its the first time your own sister steals from you so she can fund her ****** habit its the first time you get slapped its the first time you slap someone its the first time you turn to music, or books, or drugs, or drinking just to get out of your own head its the first time you'll do anything to be numb for a little while but its not just the bad stuff no its beautiful too its that night you got drunk and sat on your back in the grass and had a conversation with the stars its looking at that lopsided smile, that dimple, and that chipped tooth and feeling something its making the wrong decision on purpose because you just need the distraction so basically what i'm saying is the loss of innocence isn't all bad and it isn't all good but its something that happens to all of us theres no defining moment theres no epiphany where you feel the loss like something physical its not real or tangible and its not the same for everybody for her its standing over her moms casket for him its when he shot up that first time for me its all the good and the bad that i wrote down and spit out in this poem And for you... well thats what you have to figure out.
0
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 5:35 PM UTC
a yawn on the loss of innocence
Parents, teachers, guardians, all authority figures have put this importance this upmost importance on the loss of innocence but they have not stood in the shoes of the teenagers of this age the teenagers who have lost their innocence (or if you are apart of the lucky group you are on the cusp of losing it) its not just the physical aspect in fact it has nothing to do with having *** at all losing your innocence is much much more. Its the first time you see your mom popping pills through the crack in the door its the first time your own sister steals from you so she can fund her ****** habit its the first time you get slapped its the first time you slap someone its the first time you turn to music, or books, or drugs, or drinking just to get out of your own head its the first time you'll do anything to be numb for a little while but its not just the bad stuff no its beautiful too its that night you got drunk and sat on your back in the grass and had a conversation with the stars its looking at that lopsided smile, that dimple, and that chipped tooth and feeling something its making the wrong decision on purpose because you just need the distraction so basically what i'm saying is the loss of innocence isn't all bad and it isn't all good but its something that happens to all of us theres no defining moment theres no epiphany where you feel the loss like something physical its not real or tangible and its not the same for everybody for her its standing over her moms casket for him its when he shot up that first time for me its all the good and the bad that i wrote down and spit out in this poem And for you... well thats what you have to figure out.
Continue reading...
31
Place the tips of your fingers against your throat and feel the rapidly increasing beat branding your skin. Trace where lips of her's once pressed softly against flesh and allow that forgotten message of unconditional love to seep in. Don't you yearn for it with upmost desire? Doesnt it burn like a rod which has been left in fire? Then, when the boiling blood is cooled, and that rods been dipped in water causeing steam to rise. When the excitement ends with pain, and you remember how you forced from your mouth a goodbye. Remember that she will never be too far. On your neck lay her lips in the shape of a scar.
0
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 4:09 AM UTC
Pulse
When one is in desperate need of sleep With their minds churning out thoughts of upmost irrelevance She is told, to simply count the sheep If only the Sandman would possess such benevolence I want only to collapse into a dreary heap When one is desperate need of sleep She is told, to simply count the sheep In the waking hour of dawn, weary from Sandman's malevolence Inexplicable panic begins to seep With their minds churning out thoughts of upmost irrelevance Sunshine caresses the houses steep If only the Sandman would possess such benevolence The neighborhood yawns, the birds begin to cheep Night refuses an acquiescence When one is in desperate need of sleep I wish for once, Night and I will come to a complacence Languid to the point where I will weep She is told, to simply count the sheep One wants a gloaming of reposing divulgence With their minds churning out thoughts of upmost irrelevance When one is in desperate need of sleep She is told, to simply count the sheep.
0
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 11:47 PM UTC
[When one is in desperate need of sleep]
Oh, here I am confined to the walls of my sadness! I am lean and weary, my heart thin and dreary. Oh, how I've longt to wander yon mountainous hills again, this time with thee, descending the steeps, our bare foots brushing against the heath beneath blending into the hilly surroundings under the laughter of the joyful heavens - o how riveting the bank underneath shall be! O how delicacy shall reign my frame abruptly - bequeathing its foreign spirit gladly, so that I am showered with its frantic idyll with adversity whose love can never forget! O how this joy shall conquer any rivers of indignation, drive their disdained yoke away along with those conceited tears of sullenness, hatred, and amorous gluttony! But unreachable art thou! O Kozarev, my prince, sole prince in these silent wintry dreams, how thou appeareth like a gleaming apparition, soothing my reposes, making whose armours complete, with smiles can bear all my gloominess away, whose lovely jests are warmth to my soul, my yearning and choking soul, in the deathlike bursts of this misty day! O Kozarev, in today's laborious air I shall think of thee, thy stately figure, thy youth of ardour! Thy grin the star to the fading sun; thy words that calmeth sorrow; and sendth thrills through my bones! O mumbling lips, o trembling horns! My little treasure, if only thou could hear my earnest longing my very earnest desire; sincere yet tempestuous that I shalt lift my hands around thee Just how those rocks stand firm on the glaring sea Cheers in its coldness; praises its bland waviness Like a small boat unyielding to the melodious storm when the last harmony is no longer sounding! O, how I long to share this fondness with thee! Kozarev, my demure pleasure, my belated fate! My firing snow, my blazing sun, the handsomest flower of my being! My lithe little heart might be of nothing to thee I am unworthy, yet I yearn for thee so willingly! Kozarev, amidst the rolls of my dreams I devour thee, wherein dwells the upmost of our affection and sits our sheepish little village! And adjacent to the gentle fireside upon our wooden squeaking chair brimmed with love, smeared with laughs I should rock by thee sew thee into my very own loveliness and ****** thy grace to the faint redness of my lips.
0
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 5:55 AM UTC
An Unknown Letter
Oh, here I am confined to the walls of my sadness! I am lean and weary, my heart thin and dreary. Oh, how I've longt to wander yon mountainous hills again, this time with thee, descending the steeps, our bare foots brushing against the heath beneath blending into the hilly surroundings under the laughter of the joyful heavens - o how riveting the bank underneath shall be! O how delicacy shall reign my frame abruptly - bequeathing its foreign spirit gladly, so that I am showered with its frantic idyll with adversity whose love can never forget! O how this joy shall conquer any rivers of indignation, drive their disdained yoke away along with those conceited tears of sullenness, hatred, and amorous gluttony! But unreachable art thou! O Kozarev, my prince, sole prince in these silent wintry dreams, how thou appeareth like a gleaming apparition, soothing my reposes, making whose armours complete, with smiles can bear all my gloominess away, whose lovely jests are warmth to my soul, my yearning and choking soul, in the deathlike bursts of this misty day! O Kozarev, in today's laborious air I shall think of thee, thy stately figure, thy youth of ardour! Thy grin the star to the fading sun; thy words that calmeth sorrow; and sendth thrills through my bones! O mumbling lips, o trembling horns! My little treasure, if only thou could hear my earnest longing my very earnest desire; sincere yet tempestuous that I shalt lift my hands around thee Just how those rocks stand firm on the glaring sea Cheers in its coldness; praises its bland waviness Like a small boat unyielding to the melodious storm when the last harmony is no longer sounding! O, how I long to share this fondness with thee! Kozarev, my demure pleasure, my belated fate! My firing snow, my blazing sun, the handsomest flower of my being! My lithe little heart might be of nothing to thee I am unworthy, yet I yearn for thee so willingly! Kozarev, amidst the rolls of my dreams I devour thee, wherein dwells the upmost of our affection and sits our sheepish little village! And adjacent to the gentle fireside upon our wooden squeaking chair brimmed with love, smeared with laughs I should rock by thee sew thee into my very own loveliness and ****** thy grace to the faint redness of my lips.
Continue reading...
52
*Each ripple at her shore perfect , every panfish feeding just below the surface held with upmost respect .. A repository of turbulent waters awarded peace , a placid impoundment delivering solace to all it's fortunate recipients .. Canadian Geese are quite familiar with her charms , bullfrogs and killdeer speak of her beauty with Summer songs .. The calls of numerous songbirds fill the Springtime air , Largemouth Bass crash at the top of the water , breaking the afternoon silence .. Georgia Pines shade her Northern front , blackberry thickets just beyond the Western shore , Blue Herons quietly forage in the shallow waters , she is the emboldened mother of countless natural wonders* ...
0
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 3:28 PM UTC
Port Lake
Love Overcomes Love Becomes Hate Never Prevails Hate Always Fails Upmost Sincere Bonafide My Dear Always Faithful Simply Truthful Stay Positive Refuse Negative Beauty Fades Away Inner Beauty Pays The Way Nobody Is Perfect I Completely Understand My Hearts In Abyss Journeyed In A Twist Clenching My Teeth Trapped Beneathe Ground Level By The Devil A Rebel Fighting Off These Demons Surviving Every Season The Climate Is The Reason Stipulating Treason My Love Still Lives On After Whats Said & Done I'm Staying The Same No Fun & Games My Hearts Wide Open Truth I Have Spoken I Went & Came Back Lost From The Tracks A Blurry Vision A Bias Collision Nevertheless I'm In It For The Best As You Rest On My Chest You Whispered I'm The Best Be Aware I'm Always There Ready To Catch You As You Fall I'm Right Beside You My Words Are True Smile When You Feeling Blue Keep In Mind Someone Cares When Your Alone & No Ones There I Love You With Words & Actions I Love You With Heart & Soul I Love You With Mind & Body One Of A Kind Like Nobody...
0
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 1:56 AM UTC
Love Never Fails
I believe that one of the most important pieces of advice I can give to children is to find your passion. Find it and send it soaring to the highest points of your mind. It does not matter the passion and it does not matter how liked by others it is. Art, writing, sports, music, science, whatever. If it makes you feel alive every time you indulge in it then never let it go. It will be your hand in hard times and good times alike. Never spend your life moving so fast that you have no passionate memories to speak of. Live! And do it with the upmost optimism and enjoyment. Live so you leave this world with peace of mind and fulfillment. (C) Tiffanie Noel Doro
0
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 11:12 AM UTC
Find your passion
Do you accept the terms and conditions? Clicked so unwittingly, Private information sold to the highest bidder, Read the small print and it's plain to see. Nothing is yours any-longer, They know you better than yourself, Corporations and governments unite, They sell your data with the upmost stealth. The all seeing eye is upon us, And its glare seeks to remand, We unknowingly sign away our lives, It's a sphere of oppression, an arm, a hand. The people must fight this tyranny, We can't roll over and play dead, We are more than a wire to be tapped, Oppose the militant laws that seek to deflate us with dread. Don't find trust in empty promises, Manifesto's weighing heavy with slander and lies, Find trust in the people, Our independence must never die. Do you accept the terms and conditions? We must stand against the corrupt, Despotism enveloped by mock democracy, The free public must erupt.
0
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 12:46 PM UTC
I Deliver my Soul
It's funny how memories play out in your mind like you could almost see them in 10 second clips Usually of your favorite bits and pieces of them over and over again Wishing you could slink them out of your head and put them to play on a projector Blissfully watching what was your happiest moments. I think my head is overflowing with cassette tapes and miles and miles of film full of you You and your face and us, all of the things we did that were so memorable to me Which was a lot when i think about it they rewind in my brain so many times during the days and no matter what i can never get them Out or press stop And sometimes i think that maybe in some way i don't want them to go astray They make me who i am and who we were. All together i think it's almost two years worth of memories And all together i think it's three years worth of feelings I've had for you and i've been submissive to all the memories no matter how much pain they cause me Of course i remember the bad ones to, the ones we spent arguing and feeling inadequate for it afterwards Even the bad ones had passion in them no matter the fact we were so young and didn't Fully understand how much a relationship like the one we had required understanding and common Sense and maturity. You cannot have that amount of passion for someone if you did not feel the upmost of love and Care that we felt well at least what i felt for you Rooting from within the core of my brain where the memories are stashed is such a potent and concentrated mix of love That no quantity of hate that i could try and spur up could water it down Even now, with the countless reasons i have to forget you and yank out those memories and bash them into the ground and light a fire I can't because when i look at you i feel the most powerful emotions any human possesses; Love and hate. I didn't know they could be mixed in such equal amounts And i pray to a god that i don't believe in that i someday feel one more than the other To push the scales off the balance they stay So i can walk away from you your memory Every last trace of you in my system because i know for now at least, that loving you is a one way street now And the only thing it'll be of use to me is to hold together every last tape, film, cassette, picture, video, and written word that embodies you. They're funny things, human memories.
0
Oct 11, 2013
Oct 11, 2013 at 3:54 AM UTC
Screen play.
It's funny how memories play out in your mind like you could almost see them in 10 second clips Usually of your favorite bits and pieces of them over and over again Wishing you could slink them out of your head and put them to play on a projector Blissfully watching what was your happiest moments. I think my head is overflowing with cassette tapes and miles and miles of film full of you You and your face and us, all of the things we did that were so memorable to me Which was a lot when i think about it they rewind in my brain so many times during the days and no matter what i can never get them Out or press stop And sometimes i think that maybe in some way i don't want them to go astray They make me who i am and who we were. All together i think it's almost two years worth of memories And all together i think it's three years worth of feelings I've had for you and i've been submissive to all the memories no matter how much pain they cause me Of course i remember the bad ones to, the ones we spent arguing and feeling inadequate for it afterwards Even the bad ones had passion in them no matter the fact we were so young and didn't Fully understand how much a relationship like the one we had required understanding and common Sense and maturity. You cannot have that amount of passion for someone if you did not feel the upmost of love and Care that we felt well at least what i felt for you Rooting from within the core of my brain where the memories are stashed is such a potent and concentrated mix of love That no quantity of hate that i could try and spur up could water it down Even now, with the countless reasons i have to forget you and yank out those memories and bash them into the ground and light a fire I can't because when i look at you i feel the most powerful emotions any human possesses; Love and hate. I didn't know they could be mixed in such equal amounts And i pray to a god that i don't believe in that i someday feel one more than the other To push the scales off the balance they stay So i can walk away from you your memory Every last trace of you in my system because i know for now at least, that loving you is a one way street now And the only thing it'll be of use to me is to hold together every last tape, film, cassette, picture, video, and written word that embodies you. They're funny things, human memories.
Continue reading...
50
Oh, let me not serve so, as those men serve Whom honour’s smokes at once fatten and starve; Poorly enrich’t with great men’s words or looks; Nor so write my name in thy loving books As those idolatrous flatterers, which still Their Prince’s styles, with many realms fulfil Whence they no tribute have, and where no sway. Such services I offer as shall pay Themselves, I hate dead names: Oh then let me Favourite in Ordinary, or no favourite be. When my soul was in her own body sheathed, Nor yet by oaths betrothed, nor kisses breathed Into my Purgatory, faithless thee, Thy heart seemed wax, and steel thy constancy: So, careless flowers strowed on the waters face The curled whirlpools **** smack, and embrace, Yet drown them; so, the taper’s beamy eye Amorously twinkling beckons the giddy fly, Yet burns his wings; and such the devil is, Scarce visiting them who are entirely his. When I behold a stream which, from the spring, Doth with doubtful melodious murmuring, Or in a speechless slumber, calmly ride Her wedded channels’ ***** and then chide And bend her brows, and swell if any bough Do but stoop down, or kiss her upmost brow: Yet, if her often gnawing kisses win The traiterous bank to gape, and let her in, She rusheth violently, and doth divorce Her from her native, and her long-kept course, And roars, and braves it, and in gallant scorn, In flattering eddies promising retorn, She flouts the channel, who thenceforth is dry; Then say I, That is she, and this am I. Yet let not thy deep bitterness beget Careless despair in me, for that will whet My mind to scorn; and Oh, love dulled with pain Was ne’er so wise, nor well armed as disdain. Then with new eyes I shall survey thee, and spy Death in thy cheeks, and darkness in thine eye. Though hope bred faith and love: thus taught, I shall, As nations do from Rome, from thy love fall. My hate shall outgrow thine, and utterly I will renounce thy dalliance: and when I Am the recusant, in that resolute state, What hurts it me to be excommunicate?
0
1.4k
Elegy VI
Oh, let me not serve so, as those men serve Whom honour’s smokes at once fatten and starve; Poorly enrich’t with great men’s words or looks; Nor so write my name in thy loving books As those idolatrous flatterers, which still Their Prince’s styles, with many realms fulfil Whence they no tribute have, and where no sway. Such services I offer as shall pay Themselves, I hate dead names: Oh then let me Favourite in Ordinary, or no favourite be. When my soul was in her own body sheathed, Nor yet by oaths betrothed, nor kisses breathed Into my Purgatory, faithless thee, Thy heart seemed wax, and steel thy constancy: So, careless flowers strowed on the waters face The curled whirlpools **** smack, and embrace, Yet drown them; so, the taper’s beamy eye Amorously twinkling beckons the giddy fly, Yet burns his wings; and such the devil is, Scarce visiting them who are entirely his. When I behold a stream which, from the spring, Doth with doubtful melodious murmuring, Or in a speechless slumber, calmly ride Her wedded channels’ ***** and then chide And bend her brows, and swell if any bough Do but stoop down, or kiss her upmost brow: Yet, if her often gnawing kisses win The traiterous bank to gape, and let her in, She rusheth violently, and doth divorce Her from her native, and her long-kept course, And roars, and braves it, and in gallant scorn, In flattering eddies promising retorn, She flouts the channel, who thenceforth is dry; Then say I, That is she, and this am I. Yet let not thy deep bitterness beget Careless despair in me, for that will whet My mind to scorn; and Oh, love dulled with pain Was ne’er so wise, nor well armed as disdain. Then with new eyes I shall survey thee, and spy Death in thy cheeks, and darkness in thine eye. Though hope bred faith and love: thus taught, I shall, As nations do from Rome, from thy love fall. My hate shall outgrow thine, and utterly I will renounce thy dalliance: and when I Am the recusant, in that resolute state, What hurts it me to be excommunicate?
Continue reading...
46
His sheets are now marked As her territory, A territory that'll only be conquered For the night. In the morning, There will be fussing because When the sun rises, so do the questions Of Reality; The statements of cynicism and lies. She'll try to maintain her place.. With His body on hers, Not an inch seen of personal space; Ready to claim what is now hers As His. Her justifications Her pleading eyes Her lips drenched with temptation His mind racing wanting to get the deed Signed in the upmost speed of time Her hesitation warming her up all the more But he doesn't care because he's Conquered and reconquered Many bodies of land before.
0
Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 8:04 PM UTC
Conquering
And when I see her, my grin becomes a smile quickly… A simple reaction actually, her smile is contagious So even when I’m upset I become afflicted And I love that but when we trade places No matter how much I try, nothing seems effective So I’m afraid she’ll get tired, get up and leave That’s why I despise getting close, I hate deceit Believing in something when it’s really nothing And sure you may think I’m ruled by negativity But in reality I’m cautious, Simply trying to protect my positivity… My heart seamlessly intertwined with these words creates sustainability These words combined with my thoughts create invincibility All of those previous things combined with my soul create vulnerability Because writing brings me reassurance But it doesn’t quite fix things That’s what’s left for me to do Then again, that’s only if I’m allowed to… Now patience is a virtue I’m not quite familiar with But I’ve become more familiar, in time, with you Granted patience wasn’t the answer Rather it was as simple as accepting what I already knew Certain things are too good to be true Now regardless of what’s occurred We’ll get passed it because you mean way too much to lose And clearly we’ve had our issues But I couldn’t forget you even if I had the option to choose Believe that, The same way you should believe I have the upmost respect for you So please forgive me for any vulgarity or offense that I may commit Because you know me and disrespecting any female is the furthest thing from my wish But what I do wish is that this distance between us doesn’t last It just isn’t worth it… -Jimmy Desire
0
Feb 10, 2012
Feb 10, 2012 at 2:17 PM UTC
Free-Write 14: Distance
And when I see her, my grin becomes a smile quickly… A simple reaction actually, her smile is contagious So even when I’m upset I become afflicted And I love that but when we trade places No matter how much I try, nothing seems effective So I’m afraid she’ll get tired, get up and leave That’s why I despise getting close, I hate deceit Believing in something when it’s really nothing And sure you may think I’m ruled by negativity But in reality I’m cautious, Simply trying to protect my positivity… My heart seamlessly intertwined with these words creates sustainability These words combined with my thoughts create invincibility All of those previous things combined with my soul create vulnerability Because writing brings me reassurance But it doesn’t quite fix things That’s what’s left for me to do Then again, that’s only if I’m allowed to… Now patience is a virtue I’m not quite familiar with But I’ve become more familiar, in time, with you Granted patience wasn’t the answer Rather it was as simple as accepting what I already knew Certain things are too good to be true Now regardless of what’s occurred We’ll get passed it because you mean way too much to lose And clearly we’ve had our issues But I couldn’t forget you even if I had the option to choose Believe that, The same way you should believe I have the upmost respect for you So please forgive me for any vulgarity or offense that I may commit Because you know me and disrespecting any female is the furthest thing from my wish But what I do wish is that this distance between us doesn’t last It just isn’t worth it… -Jimmy Desire
Continue reading...
34
They look and see The quiet surface of me, Slight waves of personality. They don't know what I hide How strong my tide. The depth of my sea, They simply cannot see. They will never be able to swim to my depths, or reach my upmost steps Couldn't possibly stay afloat when I've wept. To see what lives in the deep darkness of me, There is not enough breath to explore beneath chest. I am a labyrinth.. I confess.
0
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 4:13 PM UTC
Outermost me
Sometimes the universe gifts you solitude so that you can find yourself discovering aspects that may have never occurred otherwise learning to enjoy the silences of the world around you appreciating details of the slightest importance -irrelevance becomes relevance- you meet yourself in a new perspective breeding new light toward the earth becoming the upmost you Be thankful for the days of no company, rather than spiteful This is the time to renew
0
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 12:29 AM UTC
S O L I T U D E
Enigmatic locks of brunette hair let out a cathartic release Now watch as the man flees with the upmost glee As he is faced with emerald gazes Fear Fear                                  Fear                                              L                                    Fear         Fear                               o                                                                                      v Fear                                                                      e Not of the reaper but which was sown Of ones own ilk. Envy    H    Envy                                                          a                                         Envy                               p Envy                       p                                  Y Even Narcissus was brought down In a pool of his own grandiosity                                             Doubt Doubt                                                                                 Doubt  No more
0
Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 9:45 AM UTC
Catharsis
Enigmatic locks of brunette hair let out a cathartic release Now watch as the man flees with the upmost glee As he is faced with emerald gazes Fear Fear                                  Fear                                              L                                    Fear         Fear                               o                                                                                      v Fear                                                                      e Not of the reaper but which was sown Of ones own ilk. Envy    H    Envy                                                          a                                         Envy                               p Envy                       p                                  Y Even Narcissus was brought down In a pool of his own grandiosity                                             Doubt Doubt                                                                                 Doubt  No more
Continue reading...
20
You could say i was weak for telling the truth, Or naive for letting myself love you. You could say i was silly to not play it cool, Or completely pathetic for admitting my weakness was you. But in the age where being heartless is romanticised, I wont let my vulnerable honesty be capsized. For it is exactly what this world needs, Understanding that unrequited love doesnt have to bring you to your knees. Don't become calculated like the ones who hurt you before, For in love it will never last if you have to keep score. Dont let heartbreak rob you of your openness,   Here lies youre upmost innocence.
0
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 1:37 PM UTC
Strength
I remember the days of rambling aimless down beaches naked of past and frozen in present with zero regard for future. I remember the smell and sound of ocean cracking against shore in broken fragments of bop rhythm. I can still recall faces of people I never met and still hear the voices of closest friends and lovers and strangers and pets who came to the forefront of my reality and then vanished into the wind with nothing more than a simple note to say goodbye. I can recall the trips down coast routes in cars, borrowed from nobodies for a time to get from A to B without worrying about starvation or getting lost - with the mystical island rocks deep in sea, poking through the surface to greet the eye with asymmetrical wonder. The seals on abandoned sands, moaning for death and sinning with boredom and sheer laziness of the upmost amplitude. I can remember standing on roadside, sticking out thumb, smiling, and catching rides within a minute by the most incredible of characters to wander together through the paved isles of earthly human veins of vanity transport. I can remember remembering memories that have faded into silk dreams of past-life same-form consciousness that only surface from time to time to whisper sweet proverbs of sage and true light - I remember forgetting nothing and carrying on to see if anything actually matters in the grand scope of pearly eyes of cosmic vision - I remember, I remember, I remember.
0
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 5:52 PM UTC
Wandering Remembrance
Im waiting for the sting. For the gunshot that ends me. Im waiting for you to give up on me. Im scared that In the midst of my happieness You will come forth and mention your upmost sadness. Im afraid you are gonna hurt me (yes, guys get hurt and remember it too) Im waiting for you to realize what a ****** i am. I wait for the day you find someone better. And though you tell me im the one, I still have nightmares of abandonment. Its not your fault. Maybe i should just believe in love, in you But im scared Cause ive put my faith in places before, and was met with overwhelmong dissapointment
0
Aug 12, 2016
Aug 12, 2016 at 12:20 AM UTC
The waiting game
Standing on the edge of despair my life spiraling out of control I call out to the one above who knows me better than I know myself Spiritually down I called to the upmost high Asking the Lord for his grace and mercy Drained I go bout my day my shoulders a lot lighter already feeling burdens being lifted Letting him do his will realizing I couldnt do it by myself When I let go and let God Things in my life started changing for the better Things begin to make since again Doors opened that I thought were closed to me As I praised and gave thanks to the one who made it possible I looked at my life and determined the reason why things are the way they were I had lost my way and my faith had waivered Not doing the things I knew i needed to do with out prayer and work I was allowing the devil to dictate my life with chaos and confusion Leaving destruction in my path As I look back on my life recognizing all the miracles and things that he had his hand in Reconfirming that God can do all things.
0
Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 3:08 PM UTC
God Can Do All Things