"veraciously" poems
Rationality
means not loosing sanity
to vanity
But yours can damage me
So as it be
I'll travel to the sea
And start a life as a manatee
Insanity
has found a new degree
Perfect memory I can see
You face so gracious perfectly
As I let go of reality
Who doesn't love LSD?
In a tree
As they trip veraciously
Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 6:24 AM UTC
your arms-the thorns of my body so strategically placed;
protecting my vulnerable frame
your lips akin to petals; kiss tender 'n eager
every breath's aura so congenial
your support resembling stem to strengthen and meddle me straight,
yet staying amply meek
your faith is purely fervent and keeps you veraciously planted- just as strong roots
your charming quirks protrude similar to leaves
distributed throughout; nothing shy of perfect
your bold personae is exclusive;
a risqué hue of disposition-
solely invaluable
my darling rose
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 4:11 PM UTC
venom veraciously running through my veins
cowardly hiding from your cordial love calls
relentlessly rounding up their rigid rumors
now hoping to hide my heightened helplessness
diminishing those devious devils, drowning all
a hatred hovers for them, always haunting me
does a ***** almost lover lie? no, no, no--
so sincere, so saintly, so astounding.
i'm wearily weaved in your web
i'm caught.
i'm caught.
i'm caught.
Apr 16, 2012
Apr 16, 2012 at 10:48 AM UTC
There are stars here!
There are stars here, my friends!
And as I lie among the streetlight-
-cast penumbras staring at the
Pentahedral crystal hammock jungle gym
I am with them!
I am with them in wonder
In joy in amazement in ecstasy in open-
-eyed revelation of truth
As I realize I was born not
In a city of shadows
But in a city of such blinding brightness
That I could never marvel at the darkness
and the darkness is beautiful here.
Perfect halogen moonbeam outlines of imperfect
Bodies frolicking in selfprescribed madness
Spinning in the chemical centrifuge
Until lights become light and
encircles us
endlessly
Creating its own central outward
Gravity
As I become you become me
And we sail this endless sea of
Blackness
And we fall ever deeper into the great
Singularity
everconsuming everlasting
All Encompassing
Feeling Grasping Gasping
Growing
Seeing
Darkness.
Instruments of depravity
Forged great, twisted
Spinal curvatures held proud
And feared by the mighty
For our words poison their youth
Revealing our shadowy enlightenment
Clarifying with murky water
Promises of intangible tangibilities.
Beautifying chaotic tangled
Masses forming perfection in
nebulous
amorphism.
Downward, Downward
Circling ever downward
Spiraling veraciously downward
Downward the holy!
Downward the giving!
Downward unto Heaven!
Downward unto Hell!
Downward unto Creation!
Down.
Where the soul becomes concrete
And the concrete vague
synesthetic
bliss.
The Darkness is beautiful here.
6 September 20l0
Oct 3, 2010
Oct 3, 2010 at 5:37 PM UTC
penetrating sight and hearing
turning his head 90 degrees
listening for a rustle, squeak or cheep
manning his steadfast branch
sitting gallantly proud and astute in dead silence
clothed in winsome feathers
smooth as velveteen
shades of brown, rust with black specks
white breast plate and heart shaped face
large steely almond eyes that swoon his mate
releasing his talons
the rodent he brings
pounces on mate
instinctive coitus
screeching primal sounds fill the dark quiet night
she stays in her nest
checks her owlets yet to hatch
veraciously eating the award
gliding off he surrenders
the night is quiet again~~lorilynn
copyright*lorilynn 2010
Nov 6, 2010
Nov 6, 2010 at 9:39 PM UTC
Unapologetically
I am becoming myself
No longer resisting
The impulse
To speak my mind
To write veraciously
To stand alone
Confidently
I am embracing myself
No longer doubting
The belief
I am capable
I am influential
I am resilient
Patiently
I am forgiving myself
No longer burdening
The guilt
Of disappointment
Of pride
Of anger
Wholeheartedly
I am loving myself
No longer surrendering
My need
For peace
For grace
For miracles
© JL Smith
Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 1:28 AM UTC
Like tremulous waves of copper, the sun rises on your face
In the early morning peace
The birds, awakening, sing veraciously to one another, enveloped
In the ambivalence of the falling colors
Blue, yellow, orange, red, and black, all mesh together
In an embossed dew on your cheek
As you part your lips,
Inhaling the fresh taste of the morning air
Belied, you exhale,
Breathing
Knowing.
Nov 11, 2019
Nov 11, 2019 at 6:58 PM UTC
I cannot say how many suicidal soliloquies or
diatribes of dialogue I have veraciously verbalized
towards the stark stare looking back at me
from my own reflection.
The cold calculating eyes piercing, penetrating
a completely cumbersome set of armor
deliberately designed, ironically, to protect
those forlorn, forgotten windows to the soul.
Windows, once reliably radiating with life and love,
only now to be desolate, dark.
Alone.
Abandoned.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 10:22 AM UTC
They said there was light at the end of the tunnel
their light was a different kind than mine.
The light was encrypting my brain and
smothering me with confusion.
It veraciously paved the way into my heart,
to tease me with happiness.
until i realized
that i was my own light
burrowing deep within the abyss of myself
and shining through the edges of my self-destruction
<3
Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 3:56 PM UTC
In friendship dedicated to Geert Verbeke
Oh yes,
I was born
the wrong side
of the track
I never lied about it
was proud of it
wouldn't think of hiding
hat I was born
the other side
of the track
I confessed,
undeniably,
convincingly,
uncontroversially,
irretrievably
that I was born
the wrong side
of the track
but the more I insisted,
the more I persisted,
the more I conceded,
the more they said
that I was lying
for, they said,
nobody the wrong side
of the track
can lie that sincerely,
nobody who's able
to play the part
that well
to tell tales
so veraciously
so reliably
can be born
the wrong side
of the track
so now I lie
about not being born
the wrong side
of the track
and lo and behold
now they believe me
for, they say,
nobody born
the wrong side of the track
can lie that well
she is the queen
of the festival
that girl that claimed
to be born
the wrong side
of the track
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 11:11 PM UTC
Oh yes,
I was born
the wrong side
of the track
I never lied about it
was proud of it
wouldn't think of hiding
hat I was born
the other side
of the track
I confessed,
undeniably,
convincingly,
uncontroversably,
irretrievably
that I was born
the wrong side
of the track
but the more I insisted,
the more I persisted,
the more I conceded,
the more they said
that I was lying
for, they said,
nobody the wrong side
of the track
can lie that sincerely,
nobody who's able
to play the part
that well
to tell tales
so veraciously
so reliably
can be born
the wrong side
of the track
so now I lie
about not being born
the wrong side
of the track
and lo and behold
now they believe me
for, they say,
nobody born
the wrong side of the track
can lie that well
In friendship to Geert Verbeke
she is the queen
of the festival
that girl that claimed
to be born
the wrong side
of the track
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 12:43 AM UTC
Love is unto vengeance
when you are
deeply moribund
A thought to faith......of hope
then Love......yet still unfinished
Remembrance
of loss.....a promise
a vow of spirit......souls
in forever a bond
Revenge of the righteous
for all that is known
of treachery's treason
against all that is borne
Of irrational reasoning
denying the truth
unequivocally shown
Hating with
reverent perfection
the source, the thought,
the deed
Pure avenging absolution
despising all veraciously
all in total.....all contemptible
Life again......through vengeance
for Love that was lost
Hearts once beating together
as unseen moments depart
Possibly a waiver....yet
never to fall
Love unto vengeance...
....Revenge unto Love?
No, Unfinished Business
Just Cause.
-R.
(10)
Hlywd
-4MAR
Aug 14, 2017
Aug 14, 2017 at 5:24 PM UTC
turning bread into toast
peanut butter and jam
the part I miss the most
veraciously out of hand
I’ve been tying to slow it down
I’ve been counting through my breaths
distance found it difficult
to dwarf the pain that’s left
Oct 22, 2022
Oct 22, 2022 at 3:29 PM UTC
This is a dark palace
Of deliberately dangerous
desires that
abruptly disrupts
and veraciously corrupts
all newcomers.
Plebian minds
mass in manic displays
of their sheepish ways
submitting to
the least alpha
of the American
upper class
crusty *** crew.
The enemy
claims he is
iconoclast
and mysterious,
but he is not
what he purports to be.
On these dismal days
I observe
the hurtful hand
of our material obsession.
I see us become the property
of our possessions.
Yet, with an elegy
of creative energy
I seek to set
all children of
our society free,
writing and posting
with the same passion
as the romantics
that came before me.
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 4:10 PM UTC