"vertically" poems
Sun up till sun down
Trapped in a perpetual frown
Moon comes then she goes
Drops free fall from my nose
Waking hours in the daylight
Aimless motions; clumsy, puppet-like
Waking hours in the night
Uncomfortable in my own skin and psych
Sleeplessness be my companion
Restlessness be my actions
Despondence be my demon
Crest fallen be my reason
Frantically sifting through my head
Vertically upright or supine in bed
Compartmentalising might be key
To fend off self inflicted insanity
Desperation hangs overhead; ripe and bruised
Excuses upon excuses ridiculously overused
Furiously typing before my mind curds
Hopes of finding peace in these unspoken words
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 10:45 PM UTC
If she studies you with that particular look, and you know the one I'm indicating.
Kick off your shoes and glide across the floor towards your loved one.
Place your palm firmly on the back of her neck and your other at center mass.
With your lips pressed firmly against hers, open her mouth and clean her teeth, stroke her taste buds, feel her heat and free your minds together as one exploding fire ******* soaring vertically with the sporadic curvature of the bottle rocket.
Don't stop there, you've got her. She wants you to take complete control. Push her with gentle pressure against the nearest wall and allow progression. Fuse her neckline with your bite and move south to utilize her forearms and thighs. All the while you've cupped her **** cheeks like palming a basketball. From there on, use the organic passion that comes from within. She's giving herself to you. She will not hold this against you. On the contrary, this memorable concession of unbiased surrender is a gift, from your other to you. When it comes to a woman's love, these are some of the best times that you will be offered. Keep desire on fire and make your way to completion together. This recollection you guys are developing will hold years of reminiscence.
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 8:03 AM UTC
Check:
Let O = Orifice
Let D = What ever your imagination brings you to
The Limit as D approaches O
you see her face start to glow
The log of the base
is a way to find the D in her face
No function can go on an asymptotes
But i will **** in her and cover her *** in ***** layered coats
The polar coordinates of your O
Is Tangent to where she is ******* my big toe
Because you will find me in her
The quadratic has multiple integers
The function calls to vertically stretch O
So at the end of the day I Dont Really Know
This is a metaphor for really weird ***
Thanks.
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 9:21 AM UTC
Some days I think I could love you
If the grass was green enough
If I didn't associate your musk with the flannel
I search for at every goodwill
At every thrift store
Trying them on relentlessly
Button up, button down
As if each little plaid square could shrink my ******* smaller
Stretch my back vertically
Aesthetically speaking.
Some days I think I could love you
If was smaller and wiser
If I could believe in nothing
Rather than the absence of something
Every time I close my eyes and pray once more
Beneath the shadow of the hospital-tainted shower curtain.
Some days I think I could love you
If I remember the piercing blanch
Of whiskey burning in the back of my throat
If I recall the tears in your eyes on a mid-May afternoon
Standing closely in a gravel parking lot
Telling me "See ya later" instead of goodbye
Kissing my forehead, nose, and eyes.
Some days I think I could love you
If you told me it didn't matter how prominent my collar bones are
Or that it didn't take the catalyst of pickling my insides
******* a lonely man while you were away
To make you want for me.
Some days I think I could love you
When you trace the lines of my waist
Asking me not to lose any more weight
When you tell me I'm beautiful
That you envy my heaven
When you ask to see me simply to hear my thoughts.
Some days I think I could love you
If you told me you loved me
If that alone didn't set you apart from the rest
Aligning yourself a whole in one with the others
Only greater.
Some days I think I could love you
If I couldn't recall the misshapen line
Between a large vocabulary and eloquencey
Between a man and a frightened boy
Between an eating disorder and self-motivation.
Some days, I think I might love you
If I could silence my mind of all the fragrances of adultery
If I could leap elegantly past the fear of such a concept
Without wondering how I appear to you compared to the rest.
Some days I think I could love you
If I could forget that you can't
If I could remember how to open my own hatch
Without fear, as the key
If I could remember to love myself.
Some days, I think I could love you
Some days, I believe it.
Some days, I don't.
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 2:58 AM UTC
Trivial they may seem
one worded acknowledgments
provide the greatest of hopes
sing into my seashell
slung around my neck
it tremors with my heartbeat
lay vertically on my pillow
and let the coolness
influence your words
Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 7:50 AM UTC
We are forward open thinkers
we dream of a new
without forgetting what was
With peculiarities spawned eccentricity
to keep us ourselves as one,
like no one
Without urge to be separate
we are oneself
together, we stand alone
Side stepped and vertically diagonal with grace, not trials in stride
From the waking moment routine
each day changes course
with similarities
while optional barriers are welcome
to overcome with effort
And using that effort to affect wisdoms spread and elongate strength
We work for our capacity,
at home we also work,
to make a better day
To create,
To expand
to not keep motionless
our minds
our hands
our brains in bloom.
And think and hold this knowledge tight
at one point it will open the mind of our young, to lose self and to give.
To always give.
Minimize me, I, or mine.
Talk through with question,
regardless of proof, or wrongfulness.
And wonder about laws and why?
We think. We know.
To traverse with love
In between and the seconds linking,
we desire
The ones we are near, can feel without doubt and never wonder if love was emitted.
We will communicate frequently
how they make us whole and have affected us to completion
and reraise when obstacles come towards
With complex strength and wage forward,
insist the double down
Using knowledge, work, perseverance,
and to bring it all home
To positively conquer
...using love.
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 3:35 PM UTC
I imagine petals of light pink roses or of cherry blossoms gliding in the air
Slowly, they turn and fall, gliding through the empty space
I see a pretty woman, with mesmerizing hair and pretty ears and earlobes, sitting there, in a pink dress and with an elegant white hat
Her hair is pulled back into a knot and she plays with little flowers dancing with the wind
I cannot see her face, but I know that she is beautiful and I know that I feel something for her
Perhaps she has blue eyes and small pink lips
Or possibly she has penetrating dark eyes and luscious lips
This woman, is surrounded by the pink petals
Flowing with the gusts of wind that blow the pink dress and white hat
Hundreds, thousands of petals that surround her like little butterflies in the time of love,
Turn and swirl freely, spinning vertically and horizontally
They fall and fall, as if from trees atop the clouds that hang above
But then they rise, too, can you see? Rising, flowing, going everywhere with the waves of blowing air
The lady holds her hat and grabs a petal that far-off mountains and the trees, the rivers and the streams, dedicate to her.
The petal, smooth and delicate, a reflection of her tender hands
The petal, pleasantly aromatic like her fragrance
The petal, soft with subtle shades of pink, a reflection of her gentle nature and all things that surround her being
Lost in my thoughts, I imagine a fragrant atmosphere, with scent of pink rose petals,
And there, a sweet and pretty woman sits surrounded by floating petals in the air.
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 12:35 PM UTC
the other day
seated in his office
I asked my stubborn, mean-looking
bushy-eyebrows editor
if he’d consider two books:
“Short Stories for Real Short People”
and “Truly Tall Tales for Tall People”
and he sat back with that air
(actually, made you think he wanted to release air)
and he said:
*“You’ll get shot for titles like that…
'Short Stories for Real Short People'
will directly offend people
who are vertically challenged
And the same people would shoot you
for excluding them by implication
in the epithet 'Tall' –
They’ll sure shoot you for that…
They’re both just politically incorrect”*
And I leaned forward
(releasing air myself –
anything he can do, I can do better!)
and I said:
*“Sure, it’s not politically correct – but it sure
ain’t psychologically correct, given our times,
to speak of shooting while we are in an office”*
I hear the Editor no longer works there
and is now in some publishing house
who are specialists in books on Accounting
and Engineering
where he knows, for sure, I’m never likely to go
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
I am currently standing horizontally
Waiting for an anomally
When my mind, soul and body would reach to a
Unanimous decision to stand vertically
Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 7:38 AM UTC
to get back in the water....
Have you noticed how
Freaking WEIRD
the media has become?
I can SMELL THE FISH.
Dah dum. Dah dum...
Dah dum Dah dum Dah dum
Lately I saw the cover of
Bazaar Magazine.
A model in a **** gold lame'
Bathing suit... sexily draped
Inside the maw of Jaws.
What Is the nose of Jaws
Coming vertically out of the
Water reminiscent of?
A PYRAMID perhaps?
The pyramid is a symbol.
Of Freemasons and
THE ILLUMINATI.
I always thought a friend of mine
A bit touched. He told me that
The 1% are all in collusion.
That the Illuminati used SYMBOLS
and scenes on the TV and movies
(Pictures on the wall in the
background, etc) as subliminal
Messages for mind control. And
to indicate subtly what is going on
Behind the scenes. So they can get
Their jollies by "telling us", without
Really doing so, how we are headed
For destruction. And how it will
Take place. So they can
LAUGH AT US!
I don't know. I used to think
The guy a bit eccentric...
NOW I AM NOT SO SURE...
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 5:04 PM UTC
What you live in is a twisted universe, an empty madness a spark of youth disappearing from inner being
Your age catching up, your mind closing off to any ideals
No substance within your mind, so reality check is pointless for you
The mirror which you look upon is cracked and filled with shrapnel
Busted stare never seeing what is in front of you, never knowing what is behind you
Here’s hoping you catch it before it is too late to even wake up to
Girl you’re heading down a path of darkness with no light to shed upon pathways of retribution
You ought to turn around and run the other way, for it is a lonely ending
Street car full of sadness, jagged edged knife slicing vertically upon veins
Until you wake up from this nightmare inside you, you will never know what the world possesses for you
Come to your senses, bring your wits to pasture and open up your eyes
Here you stand atop of 10 story high rise with no balance to catch yourself before you plummet to your shadowy death
Loneliness is leading you to your worst story ever; your self-worth leaves no banknotes at open safe deposit boxes
Go along; go far from this world which you have painted in grey scaled matter
Turn your life light on before it is too late, before you have nothing left to call your own
May 20, 2010
May 20, 2010 at 5:06 AM UTC
They're digging up the cobbles in our street,
moving them to a classier area.
We'll be given tarmac, black and soft in the sun.
Yes, even here it shines - on men's vests.
They're red faced, drinking from lager cans,
while their women finger scarved curlers.
At least, that's what others think they see.
But neighbours do talk with us.
There's a code of decency,
though Mum says, 'some have hearts
as black as the tarmac'.
There's a hierarchy,
in minds and heads,
if not in pockets.
Some day the toffs will turf us out,
gentrify our street. We'll be moved,
filed vertically, pigeon lofts in the sky.
Then they'll bring our cobbles back.
Oct 31, 2016
Oct 31, 2016 at 3:19 PM UTC
Your finger
traversed
your rouge
lips
Landing
vertically
with a husky
shush
I was
reminded
then
that blood
...is thicker...
Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 11:59 AM UTC
I keep wondering why your name exists so loudly at the bottom of the bottle,
And why I keep waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat with my hands around my throat.
My fear of drowning was replaced with the fear of you leaving, but no one ever told me what to do when my biggest fear became inevitable.
I keep scratching myself hoping that maybe it'll be your skin I find under my fingernails, because then I'll know a part of you stayed.
You left bloodstains on my pillowcase and holes in the wall and I think you chose to slice me vertically so that I'd be harder to sew up.
Now it's 2am and I'm alone in my bed trying to stop the bleeding.
Maybe these bandages could've taught you a few things,
Like how to heal the wounds you created, or maybe even how to stay.
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 7:30 PM UTC
Your name,
When aligned vertically,
Are formed into separate letters;
Letters turned into acrostics
You,
Just like your name,
Are an acrostic;
So many meanings
So many words
So significant
So indescribable
So you
You
Just you
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 10:04 AM UTC
Not for the faint-hearted
The highest peak is
Unconquerable is its tip
Cold and misty,
A stairway to heaven!
Bold climbers ignore
Step is the slope,
Help is the rope,
And the peak is their hope.
Surmounting the rocks
Resisting the freezing air
Holding back against the pull of gravity
Should the climbers do
With the vertical
That seemed infinite.
Escapade began.
In their heart, they held
The step and hope.
Crouching on the frosting rocks
They moved higher and higher.
'Till they could glance
At the abyss of horizons.
Passing the halfway,
Wild fortune they met.
Wind with wrath roared.
There came a snowstorm!
Hope began to melt
Their shriveling souls, too.
Buried.
Vertically jeopardized.
Lives ended with the limit.
Another team conquered
The mighty mountain.
Aroused a sense of adventure
Spirits unleashed,
Saying altogether, "We can!"
As tightly holding the guide
And pathway's light -
Their nation's proud "stars ans stripes."
Valiance flashed on their faces.
Higher and higher they went
Calmness danced with the rustling cool wind
Glaring were the ice flakes
Of noontime sun
The journey was near to its end.
Yet, a huge running bunch of snows met them.
Keen climbers bombarded
Explosive things.
Boom!
A hole was formed.
They went down
Into the hide site-like hole
Awaited the "limit" to pass by
then, it came.
The hole was filled
Shivering with cold
Heroes bombarded again...
Light rays entered as
Dazzling as their smiles.
Escapade continued.
'Till they stood and yelled
The voice of victory,
Overcoming the vertical's limit,
On their success,
On the most awe-inspiring place
of their dreams -
The earth's highest pinnacle!
Aug 10, 2012
Aug 10, 2012 at 2:56 AM UTC
Dreaming seems to be a cycled reality,
dueling matters of vague interpretation
almost holding on to a fugue
state of delieverance,
that returns to dreaming.
A wakefulness that pardons our stressors,
exploring how sureness of changing tides
have arrived to wash the shore’s footprints;
turning salutations to a once cumbersom
slumber to keeping these eyes closed.
The mind never rests,
it continues to timely act.
Despite the character of one’s gait
submissive to extrinsic. We dream the same.
A neutrality in recognition,
the deepest desire,
the social matter,
and the human acceptance.
We rise to sleep
to deeply wake
the harden reality we failed,
to accept throughout our day,
removing our knighly armor and face
our dragons which have their own vices,
yet our devices hinder. Our true dreams,
blur between eyes closed
changing to dreaming with eyes open.
Realizing all true negatives are true
positives differing only from accepting
that I can vertically add difference;
we can all equate to change
if you keep dreaming in mind.
Jul 16, 2012
Jul 16, 2012 at 3:24 AM UTC
A poet is a poet is a poet.
Philip is the name I use
Oliver is my family name
Especially on my passport
True my passport should say Poet
I like to think I am one.
So I write a poem every day
A poet is a poet is a poet
Poetic license I like to take
Occasionally when I need to
Especially when I talk in metaphors
Twitter -pated . Tongue -twisted metaphors
Introducing the art of the Acrostic Poem
Simply using the phrase vertically to trigger
A poet is a poet is a poet
Poets need to die to become well read.
Only the lucky ones ever get published
Even John Keats wasn’t recognised in life
Trick is to keep on writing for all your worth.
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 10:02 AM UTC
Analytical minds share symbols like currency, defining the present's possible.
Tip an 8 sideways and infinity tumbles out,
but sadly for us, there is no word for , so it doesn't exist.
Modern idioms can string together only hints of divinity:
A Hebrew Prince raised by Egyptian Pharaohs wrote a book about the I Am.
Our language fails pathetically, scarcely the words for what Moses saw in that burning bush.
We know he saw God, lived to tell in writing.
Grasp the Key for the 6th Angel's Little Scroll, unlocking his original Ancient Hebrew.
Like math, each letter is a picture hieroglyph, and a meaning, and a number.
Add letters together, each word is a painting, and a poem.
One sentence is paragraphs of meaning, on four dizzying levels.
One concise chapter speaks a vertigo of encyclopedic volumes.
First to Analyze the most important hieroglyph in Genesis,
so important, do not pronounce it, so its sacredness will never fade:
At top, the sign of Life, then doubled, and the sign of Intelligible Light between.
So becoming a unique verb; all other verbs derive from this, the Creator.
Then add the sign of potential manifestation, with foundation in eternity.
IHOAH
a verb/noun signifying exactly The-Being-Who-Is-Who-Was-And-Who-Will-Be
A vertical hieroglyph pictorially resembling a Man.
Then:
The letter with the sound of A looks like: , and means the physical manifestation of
A= the physical manifestation of, D= man, A= the physical manifestation of, M= woman.
ADAM, with its root word in red clay.
A noun, collective humanity in physical form resembling spirit. (one meaning)
Vertically hieroglyphic one sees a man; but it is smaller (another meaning)
Adam, a shadow of IHOAH.
Let me explain how Moses reveals DNA....
Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 2:14 PM UTC
Time an temperature...bottom right of
tele-visioning screen.
And now...torrent crystallized vertically, horizontally.
Fixity of the epochal grope--aegis to the
refining floodlight.
Reflected back to virtual reality, Jacob Boehme's
pewter dish.
Numbing, the iced pillow of cold illogic...slid
the presented head...melting.
Warming up and up to harmony and chaos--
reintegrated by and by Now.
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 12:31 PM UTC
Not for the faint-hearted
The highest peak is
Unconquerable is its tip
Cold and misty,
A stairway to heaven!
Bold climbers ignore
Step is the slope,
Help is the rope,
And the peak is their hope.
Surmounting the rocks
Resisting the freezing air
Holding back against the pull of gravity
Should the climbers do
With the vertical
That seemed infinite.
Escapade began.
In their heart, they held
The step and hope.
Crouching on the frosting rocks
They moved higher and higher.
'Till they could glance
At the abyss of horizons.
Passing the halfway,
Wild fortune they met.
Wind with wrath roared.
There came a snowstorm!
Hope began to melt
Their shriveling souls, too.
Buried.
Vertically jeopardized.
Lives ended with the limit.
Another team conquered
The mighty mountain.
Aroused a sense of adventure
Spirits unleashed,
Saying altogether, "We can!"
As tightly holding the guide
And pathway's light -
Their nation's proud "stars ans stripes."
Valiance flashed on their faces.
Higher and higher they went
Calmness danced with the rustling cool wind
Glaring were the ice flakes
Of noontime sun
The journey was near to its end.
Yet, a huge running bunch of snows met them.
Keen climbers bombarded
Explosive things.
Boom!
A hole was formed.
They went down
Into the hide site-like hole
Awaited the "limit" to pass by
then, it came.
The hole was filled
Shivering with cold
Heroes bombarded again...
Light rays entered as
Dazzling as their smiles.
Escapade continued.
'Till they stood and yelled
The voice of victory,
Overcoming the vertical's limit,
On their success,
On the most awe-inspiring place
of their dreams -
The earth's highest pinnacle!
Aug 10, 2012
Aug 10, 2012 at 2:56 AM UTC
FRIENDS
Friends meaning so many definitions,
Really can be interpreted in so many ways,
I can think of so many meanings of a friend,
Everyone interprets friends differently
No wonder the word is left so openly,
Do you get confused by this word too?
Surly there is just one meaning of this word-
-FRIENDS
(Read vertically first letters)
© By HF-Whisper
22/2/2020
FRIENDS STATEMENT
Friends-Acquaintances.
Friends-Friends with Benefits. (F.W.B)
Friends- Friends.
Friends- By text only.
Friends-Social Media friends only.
Friends- Long distance -International friends.
Friends- One night stand. (O.N.S)
Friends-Casual.
Friends-Ongoing casual.
Friends-Regular catch up’s-but only at events.
Friends- Regular catch up’s only one on one.
Friends-Equally balanced catch ups.
Friends-No dating but showing interest.
Friends-Not interested but acting interested.
Friends-How can I benefit from having you as my friend?
Friends- In good times and bad.
Friends-Lifelong friends.
-How many kinds of friends do you have?
I'm sure you can think of more!
FRIENDS
© By HF-Whisper
22/2/2020
Mar 14, 2021
Mar 14, 2021 at 8:43 PM UTC
Tear these walls rip them down
Nothing left to be found
Except for skies of brighter days
The brilliance of it persuades
Me to redeem myself
From the burdens exile
Don’t make a big promise
And prove that you’re weak
Make me a promise
You promise to keep
Something for my worries
Something for my sleep
Something for these dreams
I have of finally being free
Paint these walls bright and new
Something resilient
Paint a vision that requires truth
Paint a wonderful work of art
Paint something brilliant
Comfortably content
Paint this vision that I see
Into something flying free
Paint these hills into skies
Ocean bound widened eyes
Grow from a seed
Extend vertically
From a crack in concrete
Stretching with relief
Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 11:29 PM UTC
A Featherweight mind takes a long draw of a fragment of time cut out exclusively for the purpose of observance
There are delicate fingerprints elegantly marked vertically along his forearm
In case of insurgency, please start here
Dread mixed with a sense of urgency
For what purpose were those fingerprints placed
If not for the eventual laceration
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 8:51 AM UTC
You didn’t ground me, I’m just hitting a “social speed bump”
The room we share together isn’t messy, it just has “restrictive passage”
You weren’t late coming into my life, you just had a “rescheduled arrival time”
When I lean down to kiss you it isn’t because I’m tall, I’m simply “vertically enhanced”
You aren’t shy, you’re just “conversationally selective”
As much as I say you nag me, you don’t. You’re just “verbally repetitive”
Yeah I need directions because I don’t get lost, I just “investigate alternate directions”
Yeah I’m falling for you, I think to be politically correct it’s “I love you"
Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 9:01 PM UTC