"vesicles" poems
Perhaps your body is composed of thousands of stars.
Limitless constellations make up your fingertips
your eyelashes
and the curvatures in your ears.
Galaxies are interwoven under your skin and how you glow.
You glow like the moon in the sky when it is at its brightest.
When nothing compares to the sight of the moon and the tiny specks in the sky are just insignificant floating circles.
Your hair flows like the Nile River.
Boundless, pristine water overflowing at my fingertips.
You are more than the ocean; you are all the bodies of water in the earth combined.
You are the last drop of coffee in my old, vintage, mauve red mug.
The last caffeine induced sip that flows through my oesophagus with a relinquishing taste of sweetness.
You are the sweet nectar that hummingbirds look for in flowers and when they can't find flowers with a taste that will satisfy them, they settle on trees.
You are the trees that produce oxygen, and the branches of the trees that tower over me like a netted blanket.
You are the cotton blanket keeping me warm on windy or rainy days because it doesn't snow in the Philippines.
But if you were snow, I would gather you in a plastic container and keep you in my ice compartment so you wouldn't melt.
You make me feel like I'm melting.
Like every possible emotion i possess flows out of me like vapor.
And you are the smoke that forms after you've blown the flame of a candle; you gently float in the air surrounding the space where the flame used to be.
You are the compacted tissues in my chest; you fill the void I once had.
You comprise my veins, my arteries and vesicles; you are a vessel of euphoric elation.
You are my utopia.
You are.
Nov 14, 2012
Nov 14, 2012 at 9:22 AM UTC
Anger becomes me,
Rage engages my fits .
Such unholy acts transpire through me.
Blood vesicles are visible on my illuminant skin.
Breath becomes heavy,
breath grows slow.
Tears puff in my eyes.
Lost, is my mind,
Solace is solitary.
To me it's all the same,
Solace to anger
and,
anger to pain.
Rage grows old,
Smiles become unholy,
Tears are solitary.
Anger,
Anger,
Anger.
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 4:43 PM UTC
There are flowers blooming
bright and brilliant, true
pooling from the vesicles
red and violet blue
Roots ensnare the veins below
a pale and powder skin
the blush of nascent nature’s worth
where bruises might of been
A pulling scrapes the tears from eyes
pink with blossom’s bud
And lips stained dark with dreams long dashed
reek of the color blood
There’re flowers in you, child
but flesh and blood as well
tend your garden carefully
or thorns grow where you dwell
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 8:58 AM UTC
The bishop knew his bounds and his curved sceptre
swept like a serpent up to his face
elongating his brows into wisdom beauty
but his eye wandered to the lady up front
with bubbly buttocks
and tight skirt.
Even his scriptures wobbled against
the power of adrenaline rushing
down his swollen
veins into his vesicles
where he still remained a bishop
with the diocese backing his holy grail
on the road to heaven.
With all those thoughts behind the mitre
and the dash of plumage purple
the bishop often wondered
what life would have been like
with the same spoils the church offered
and a warm woman in bed.
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 4:18 PM UTC
It's like its own rules, this game of life,
nothing matters
then it does,
and now is the inevitable result.
You read this bit and elsewhere,
in your past I continued
pouring my selves out in bubbles
like vesicles holding dopamine mine mine
urgen
urgentle emerging -easy
says the egg,
from my gut.
Dec 3, 2021
Dec 3, 2021 at 3:47 PM UTC
It was the day i realized that the dead could see me.
They screamed and moaned, shouting the names of the people they left behind.
It wasn't the screams that haunted me,
it wasn't the tears that saddened me.
Their eyes...hollow and no longer longing for the accomplishments that they hoped to achieve in life .
The grimly appearance as seen, wore no life, no light.
These made my heart gallop like a frightened horse in a winter storm.
but that was not the only thing that scared me.
..it was the thought as i looked into their eyes, cold and melancholy. Since i could see them, and stare into their lifeless mimicked vesicles was i too apart of the same ending...death?
Am i dead as well?
Jan 16, 2017
Jan 16, 2017 at 3:51 PM UTC