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Bardo Apr 2019
I could spend my life in the supermarket, going around the aisles
Walking among the plentiful and the abundant
Looking for things to help plug the holes inside,
Looking for something, hungry for something, I don't know what
But something that probably can't be found on shelves
Something that was maybe lost a long time ago.

I seen her first among the cauliflowers
I was looking at the lettuce, but only just
Secretly, like a crack detective, I was watching her
Beautiful blonde Venus, tall and willowy, all by herself,
I watched her buy some broccoli, then move over to where the
    fruit was
There she picked some pears and some bananas -
"Mmmm", I thought to myself, " so you're into healthy eating,
    you still strive to maintain your health
You must still believe in life and things like love and joy
    and hope".

A little while later I seen her again, she was buying a Victoria
    sponge cake
And looking rather wistfully I thought at the huge array of
    chocolate bars and sweets
"A-ha!", I thought as if I'd caught her out, as if I'd found her
     weakness, her vice,
" So you lack sweetness in your life and you try to compensate
      with these"-
Well, not to worry, sure I often do the same thing myself
Temptation Alley I call this aisle - this place
You know, and here's a thought, I! Me! I could be your little
    Sweetie and you my little Honey pie
You wouldn't need to seek this kind of comfort anymore
I could give you words, I could give you lines, O! the lines I
    could give you
Thousands of words running in syrupy streams, sweeter than
     the sweetest honey
That'd dress you up in fabulous gowns, make your eyes widen
    in awe and wonder
Sparkle vivaciously like glittering sunshine on a sea in Summer,
I'd build you up, not knock you down, no! I wouldn't let you fall
The sun it'd always be shining in your heart ".

Next time I seen her, she was in among the wines
Looking a little bit lost like myself with all the different labels
" So!", I thought, "you like to kick loose sometimes, you like to try
   and shake off the shackles that bind, the shackles of your mind
You yearn to be free and wild again, just like you were when you
    were a little child,
To escape all those unpleasant restricting voices, old ghosts from
     the past perhaps
Or maybe dark monsters this world planted inside, that won't go  
    away
You want to make them all seem so crazy and funny and mad
I know, I know, it can get too much sometimes, can be hard to
    take
You know, Me! I'd do battle for you I would, I'd be your brave
    and valiant knight
I'd face down those awful dragons, I'd lance them and trounce
    them, I'd show you the truth
That they were always only mere shadows without any real
    substance behind them,
O! I would".

It was funny but it seemed that wherever I went she was there
    also
That wherever she went was some place I myself would go
It was like her shopping habits were a direct mirror image of
    my own.

She came up real close to me in the pet food section to get her
    cans of Whiskas
" So you own a cat too, I bet he sits on your lap and you stroke
      him gently
And whisper silly funny little catty things in his ears..."

In the herbal bath and fragrances section, she was waiting for
   me again
"So you like to soak in a hot tub, lie back and let the whole world
    just float away,
I could light some scented candles, give you a nice soothing rub
Put on some nice soft calming music, together we'd make an
    otherworldly place
For ourselves that no one else could find - it'd be our special
    place".

I met her again, this time browsing through books in the Books
    section, she was reading the blurbs on the back covers
I could see her thinking, trying to decide which one to choose,
" I hope you pick a good one, that'll make you happy, make you
    laugh and smile
Not the kind that'd make you shiver, cast a shadow over your
    world",
I watched her move over to the music CD's...sad songs and love
    songs, still the romantic I see,
I could see her sitting at home with her cat, reading her book,
    listening to her favorite songs
Dreaming of other lives she might have had and the heroes she
    might have been,
"But we can be heroes still, you and I, heroes of our own lives
We could write our own books, sing our own songs
We wouldn't always have to be looking over at them and theirs,
We could build a world we'd love to look at and wake up to.
O! Yes...yes we could".

I grew curiouser and curiouser about her
Once she turned around and glanced at me briefly, but only for a
     second
She had these wonderful big blue 'rescue me' eyes.

She reached the checkouts first
By the time I got there, there were other people in between us
I watched her, she smiled faintly at something the checkout girl
    said,
She looked like someone who didn't smile an awful lot,
" What a pity, what a shame", I thought, "someone who looks like
     you do".
I wanted...wanted to say something to her before she left the
     store,
I watched her fill her bags, then head to the exit door
I could feel her slipping away from me
" C'mon, c'mon", I thought impatiently as the checkout girl,
     she leisurely scanned my items,
Paying her quickly I bundled everything into my trolley and
     took off in a hurry,
Inside me a voice was shouting "Don't go! Please don't go! throw
    me a lifeline too, won't you!
Because sometimes I feel... sometimes I feel I myself I'm
    drowning, that I need rescuing too".

I could see her car pulling out, it was a small car just like my
    own, nothing fancy,
But wait! There was someone with her... a man!... another man
I was crushed/ torn inside," But I knew you, I understood
    you...better than he ever could",
And then... and then she was gone,
I was just left there standing in the car park with my shopping
    trolley.
Looking down at all the things I'd bought, all the things that me
    and her liked
I thought for a moment that they might magically transform and
    that she'd be standing there one more time, all vibrant & alive
But no! I guess that could never be.

So she went back to her world and I went back to mine,
I went back to my cat and she went back to hers and her man,
She had become just another thing now, just another thing I
    couldn't find.
Going to the supermarket won't be the same again. Quite sad this, a career in Mills & Boon beckons.
Once at a halcyon sea thee dare glance,
And you'll see her smiling vivaciously
To render eyes of thine into a trance
By lullabies crooned rhythmically.
And if thee dare saunter by the shoreline
Upon a shingly beach in a brisk breeze,
Kissed by glassy waves you'll feel so fine,
For in mist of joy shalt thy worries freeze;
Yet if thee stroll by a fine golden day
With heaven's eye fairly raining her light,
It'll betoken joy to forever stay
Like of a bird upon her maiden flight.

In sweet delight it'll thus dawn upon thee,
For nothing smiles than a halcyon sea.



#Decasyllabic
#Attempt at a Shakespearean sonnet

**Kikodinho Edward Alexandros. 7th.Dec.2017. Jumeirah, Dubai.
On feasting about a murmuring limpid sea that was a vast brilliant blue mill-pond whilst at Atlantis Hotel in Dubai by the terrace yesteryear on a golden May day, upon the back of my palm there I jotted a faint line "Whispers Of A Halcyon Sea"... Faint, for I really didn't know what to write next but since yon day, fires of my muse about the sea errupted...'Tis once on a fine sweltering day when I decided to visit the edge where waves kiss the shore...Fact that I know not how to swim, I remembered some indelible words of sheer wisdom: "TILL TO SWIM YOU ARE ABLE, SIT CLOSE TO THE TABLE...Loll" by the ancient sage, LEWIS CAROLL".... hence there by the table, that's when I knew what to write. Lest thou art a sea lover, hope thou hast enjoyed my musing about the sea. Thanks for reading. God bless ye, dear friends.
Dane Johnson Dec 2011
of the wind that speaks multitudes
abounding creation that decries its mournful existence
fluidity of a falling leaf
dwelling of inhabited space
posterity of the pompous
calming blues describing the waters of high noon
reflecting on perspective
qualms of my imagination
nightingale flush
internal beauty of the highest decree
flaunting tact
simple pleasures of breathing
caress my hand, i’ll touch your hair
the blue of mine eyes shines unseen in the night
erstwhile noticed of syllabic manifestations
furtive felicity, comely for the homely
murmurs of softness
love is in the air


i spy, with my little eye, a pond, rotting with life.
a sea, devoid of meaning, as seas are
triangular pencils scratching away
out-dated calendars that hang on a peg

papers that bind us to our word
word that is bound to the papers
thought that is trapped in letters
letters formed into words
assembled into phrases
spoken from the mouth

bingo is the lingo

burning brightness of blithering baboons, begone.

smiling is more than showing teeth

gone are the days of yesterday, tomorrow is near, and yet, never here.
the present of what is that now was but is again

oh, do you ever wonder about the life of an italicized comma?
Nicole Corea Sep 2015
My heart bleeds blue at midnight. I heard owls hooting in my despair. Alone ,I lay naked underneath the beaming moonlight. I touch slowly my neck and close my eyes. Thinking of a predator I been waiting for a lifetime slowly slithering its warmth on my thighs.So preciously antagonizing my soul with its piercing eyes.It's breath is an intimidating musical hiss. I crave it's injection. Hiss between every piercing kiss.I touched myself harder as the owls hooted into the moonlight. I needed you. Imagining my predator teasing my heated skin with its cold fangs. Immensely waiting for its long hollow teeth to pierce me. While wishing, it instantly became the predator of my heart as it slither around my skin.The music began to start.Predator started to taunt, looking for the sweetest fatal bite.My soul began gasping harder, My predator, oh please prey on me harder.Slither uncontrollably, slither harder as my breaths change heavily. Predator inject itself slowly through every bite.Oh I am in love.It was perfect dosage. This is love. Intoxicating every blood vessel of my body.Every bite,I felt more yours. I instantly became weaker, your bite was the perfect dosage for the ****. It was perfect dosage.The perfect poison. This was love. The perfect *******. Underneath the moonlight , vivaciously sweating naked I screamed. Longing more for your touch.The owl hooted once more, morning has come.
I awake , I was loved for the first time.

With its injection ,
**The predator righteously own my crimson heart
This poem is about ******* with the right person . I know not a lot of people dare to write about *** so enjoy.
snipes Feb 2022
Bedded soul in the soil
Casket cassette spins
Tears in Heaven
Ripples into waves
I turn my head in the bed I lay
Now I become Death in his name
While Eric Clapton plays
I light travel dark vivaciously
Garnering the souls in the soil
Matt Shao Jun 2019
M. E. Shao

An Ode to the Letter “A”

A picture says a thousand words
At least that’s what they say
Although they can’t describe a thing
As well as the letter “A”
 
“A” means that there’s others
As if there’s two or three
And if there was just only one
“A” would become “the”
 
An Ode to the Letter “B”

Behold! A letter that can be
Better than numbers one and three
Because it sits quite neighborly
Between it’s buddies A & C
 
Boldly standing faithfully
Barely used the same you see
Bugs will spell it differently
But one less E and then it’s be
 
An Ode to the Letter “C”

Can you guess what letters next
Clocking in at number three?
Careful how you use it now
‘Cause it confuses frequently
 
Certain times it’s overlooked, like
Chief – the “I” before the “E”
Can’t use “I” that same way though when
Coming after “C”
 
An Ode to the Letter “D”

Dare I try letter four
Daunting as it may be?
Duly note this verse might prove as
Drab and dull as me
 
Don’t say there’s other letters of such
Deep complexity
Desire to speak in a past tense?
Dread not! Just add a “D”
 
And Ode to the Letter “E”

Ere I forget I said I’d commit
Ever mindful I shall be, and
Execute my promise, my Oath
Elegantly thanking thee
 
Eyes see so much wisdom
Ears hear so much glee
Every single word of love
Ends, with letter “E”
 
An Ode to the Letter “F”

Finally a letter without a long E
For those are easy to rhyme
Frankly it’s fun to come up with a pun
Fresh from out of the mind
 
Forever I wonder, over and under
From bottom to top, all the time
For a bold new way to come out and say
F this…but with no moral fine
 
An Ode to the Letter “G”

Goodness gracious, golly G!
Gifted writers inspire me
Gernsback, Goddard, de Graffigny
Grouped in glory’s category
 
Guiding words with paper and pen
Grandeur achieved by all of them
God bestowed them minds of gold
Goals to emulate when I’m old
 
An Ode to the Letter “H”

Heavens hopeful, but all should know
Hell awaits for heathens below
Havoc, hatred, halls of stones
Heated seats on hopeless thrones
 
Helping mortals foster love
Hoping for the gates above
Hearts are kind for constant fear
Horror and nightmare might be near
 
An Ode to the Letter “I”

I love the vowels for how they serve
In bridging letters, creating words
Insanity comes, ’cause if not for them
Illegible messes that none comprehend
 
Idle time attempting to read
It’s pointless were it not for these
Irked by consonants, throw in the towel
If you want a word…just buy a vowel
 
An Ode to the Letter “J”

Jack and Jill went up the hill
Jogging straight up and down
Joking and playing, having a thrill
Joy till he broke his crown
 
Jumping in fear, Jill looked around
Jolting across the way
Jeering, she returned and scooped him up
Jill’s stick was shaped like a J
 
An Ode to the Letter “K”

Knobbed in darkness, twisted wood
Knuckled as can be
Kinks and dead spots all around
Knotted is the tree
 
Kindling yes, our God will need, as its
Key for making day
Kind, He brightens nights with knights by simply adding
K
 
An Ode to the Letter “L”

Little, little, did I know
L is oh so great
Like the time I drank that wine and
Lulled a pretty mate
 
Lords and ladies, boys and girls
Like all, must pay the well
Lay respect to that which lets us
Love – the letter “L”
 
An Ode to the Letter “M”

Middle of the alphabet
Molded like a gem
Most will say there’s nothing worth
More than Letter “M”
 
Maybe M hates W
Malice with a frown
Mercilessly mocked by him when
M is upside down
 
An Ode to the Letter “N”

Naughty naughty little N
Never helping me
Nothing useful ever comes from
Negativity
 
No and never, none and nor
N is oh so rude
Neighbors M and O must want to
Nix that attitude
 
An Ode to the Letter “O”
Over, under, bottom, top
Odes to letters never stop
On the day I get to Z
Old and wrinkled, I may be
 
Or young and youthful, hopefully
Only time will tell, you see
Our lives are short, we need to grind
Otherwise we’re wasting time
 
An Ode to the Letter “P”

Paper, pencil, pen and ink, in
Prose I’ve grown to speak and think
Public platforms, message boards
Poetic guide of rhythmic chords
 
Poems are pretty, I think it naught
Pretentious such as some have thought
Pious I shan’t think it so
Poetry shall help me grow
 
An Ode to the Letter “Q”

Quiet! I must concentrate
Q is hard to satiate
Quarrels make me want to quit
Quirks in words which don’t quite fit
 
Quorum comes when all are here
Quickly now, our quest is near
Quantify a love for two
Q is married, to the U
 
An Ode to the Letter “R”

Regal existence, loved from afar
Reality dictates we need Letter R
Rigid and rugged it’s straight and it’s curved
Reading is easy when Rs are preserved

Rallying troops or driving a car?
Really won’t work without Letter R
Reason without one, your point is moot
R runs the game, expect the boot
 
An Ode to the Letter “S”

Supposed vision we are told will
Save the world today
Sorry if I disagree
So many told to stay
 
Spite and harm are currently
Sawing through the way
Someday hope for peace and love
So hate will go away
 
An Ode to the Letter “T”

There never was a letter
That can do as much as me
Think about it really hard and
Thank me when you see
 
The other letters hate me
Though, because of jealousy
They say it’s not fair that I rhyme
That super easily
 
An Ode to the Letter “U”

Usually I’d try her number
Unfortunately my hearts asunder
Used to love her, used to hold
Useless now, attempts are cold
 
Until things change for now I’ll be
Under this cloak of melancholy
Urging progress, longing for more
Unable to close the heart wrenching door
 
An Ode to the Letter “V”

Very strong, vivaciously
Voltage high, tenaciously
Veer this verse, voraciously
Vaulting over prose you see
 
Violence in these words you read
Viking frame of mind have we
Vibrant in philosophy
Verbiage is our currency
 
An Ode to the Letter “W”

Well, here we are
Woe is me!
Winding down, finally
Wrapping up this poetry
 
We’re almost done, from A to Z
Writing alphabetically
Won’t be long, but wait! We’re not free
W was easy….X will not be
 
An Ode to the Letter “X”

X can mark the spot I see
Xanax needed this entry
Xi is Greek, it’s fourteen
Xeroxed words, all randomly
 
Xystus too, as I mentioned Greece
Xebecs sailing open seas
Xerosis I suffer cerebrally
Xenial X was not to me
 
An Ode to the Letter “Y”

You may think these odes of mine
Yawn-inducing, wastes of time
Yet I attest validity
Yes they’re written passionately
 
Yesterday I couldn’t show it
Younger me was not a poet
Yearn for greatness, one day bestow it
Years from now, I hope you know it
 
An Ode to the Letter “Z”

Zealots desired to bless my soul
Zilch is my energy left
Zoned out, these odes have taken their toll
Zoo in my mind, though ’twas deft
 
Zip up this project, my brain can now rest
Zero letters now lie ahead
Zephyrs now soothe me, caressing my chest
Zodiac today – time for bed
I dreamed of thee again last night-so frustrating. I still miss thee. I have to admit that. I can no longer deny it. I still want thee back. I want thee back. My thee, o, my thee, Vladimir! In my mind I keep but playing those scenes over and over again; those scenes full of temptations-and breaths gasping more freshness under the sheets of our romantic air-which are no other than the beautiful, picturesque paintings of the days of our togetherness. Those rapturous paintings-sketched carefully by the jealous winds-outside of my bedchamber, wherein adjacent to the rolling fireside thou would caress my hair and smile at me with that serene blueness of thy eyes. And how as soon as those moments came, I would close my eyes, and lay my head against thy cleavage-and its steady, luminous heartbeat; and flew I through the wings of enthralled unconsciousness-as though I was floating in the sky; and then believe would I, that yon bubble of sophisticated happiness would never end. But thou! Thou ruined everything-and that idyllic, idyllic blue castle of mine as soon as thou walked away. Ah! And didst I cry back then, cry whenever I woke up and found that thou wert gone, and it was only thy scents that were left all over me. What a horrible memory! The remembrance of thy blissful eyes-o, a pair of majestic blue eyes!-and thy golden hair, flowing smoothly against mine on that tranquil night, is but a wealth of fondness too dear, yet unbearable-to me. Full of tears are my eyes, as I am writing t'is sorrowful passage, that might still mean nothing-nothing, to thee. But I doth need to be honest! It might just be too late to say this, but I need thee, Vladimir. I need thee! Thou art the only miracle that has ever happened to me, since I first heaved my steps onto this land: this foreign land with a stash of autumnal stars grinning at us from the sleepy eyes of the sky. The sky-o the sky, whose innocent blueness is just as handsome as thy eyes! Thou consoled my fear, and relieved my sarcastic anxiety-in those first, first days! How thou silently-yet joyfully, entered my heart! My prince, my soul. How I want us to be back together-embracing each other under the clouds' mesmerizing lullaby. I who can never love him-the one everyone dear to me so excitedly raves at. No-never, although from the same kin is he, as thou art, with that flash of wild black eyes running vivaciously at every appearance of my being. And those queries he always puts-yes, on my series of daily runabouts, and keen interests in which I immerse myself during my solitudes. A smile so charming then he shows-but still, unable is he to bring my heart to galloping excitements, nor shake my soul with adorable passion, like thou didst! And no! He is but no lover I wish for-as far as I'th ventured to recognise, as in my heart still hides thy name, dwelling so quietly with bursts of violent fascination. And the red blushes it sends to my cheeks-whenever I think of thee. Vladimir! The prince to my love-today and yesterday-for whom my affection shalt never fade; and the sole king to my being-all through the year, and the remaining hours of my night and day-for whom my soul was duly made. O Vladimir! I love thee, I love thee! Come back and cherish thy days here, wander back into my heart-and celebrate this innocent mirth of ours, just like we once had before-with our hands together, whilst thy heart in mine, amidst t'is silent afternoon-and ah, under tonight's marvelous moon.
soul wolf Jul 2013
***
give me the pleasure of knowing
that i can please you in ways that not even you can
i want to detain your innermost secrets
i want to become more familiar with your body than you are
tell me your favorite fingers
    let’s discover your favorite toy
i want to know which spot makes you shiver
i want to know which spot makes you moan
   i want to know exactly what type of stroke makes you shake
i want to know which spot makes
                        your eyes
                            your hips
                                 your head
                                             roll
                    so that i know precisely when to roll you over
                            and vivaciously assault you from behind
                                   while i croak romantic entities
       and watch them travel down the notches of your spine
       and wrap themselves around your earlobes
and curl their exclamatory hands around your throat
                            and reach around your body
     and diligently massage your ****
           while the planes of your forearms give out
          due to the weariness of supporting not only your body
but also the head on your shoulders
whirring with the fact that this moment is almost
too large for you
         just like the member pumping
              in and out of you is
and just like that member
               these moments were at first
               difficult to swallow

  let me stop
         and take a moment to admire the way sweat
gives your curves a flattering spotlight
and provides the candles in the room more reason to
      applaud and reach their crowns in the air
            almost as if to detach themselves from
their own wax and join us
                      in order to extinguish
                                             the fire deep within themselves
            by allowing me to drown them in their own juices
                                                        ­just as you have
        i want to admire the way sheets of sweat
                                       glaze your skin
           in the same way your juices glaze
           your opening

let me enter you
    as you pucker your mouth
bite your lip
and beg for more
i want to know exactly what makes you
denounce me to the dirtiest of things
give me a title only worn by those wearing sweat
  and exhalations

scream my name
pull those eyebrows together
and spread those legs further apart
and let the part of me
that isn’t me
(but is me)
deeper inside of you

let me carry you to ******
             afterwards i'll lean down and bury my mouth
between your legs
and taste what meal your supplementary pair of lips
  have prepared for me
i want to digest my libidinous progress
and mount this triumph in my heart
as the first of many
powerfully lecherous
conquered temptations


k.n
visit my official poetry blog please: http://www.kierranyepoetry.blogspot.com
alde Nov 2014
There was a sound, cracks on a door and an apple tree, no relevance whatsoever.
Apples were red, Tree was old, branches were everywhere.
A child giggled vivaciously, a witch gobbled little apples ferociously.
Tree was standing tall and there was no relevance at all.

Sound is loud and sky is bright, school bus coming, child is sad.
Tree was wooden and red was an apple, a door opened.
It was raining and there were fishes, chips were hot.
Witch sipped a beverage, Tree grew old and clouds were dark.

Chips were cold, an apple on the ground, sound is LOUD.
Child stood up, bus stopped and there was blood.
Fishes swim, eagles fly, violets are red, roses are purple.
Witch cast a spell and there was no relevance at all.

Nothing is full, everything has things and there was an apple.
Blue roses wither, fishes die, eagles fall and sound is silent.
Witch has smiled, child has cried and sky was cold.
Door was not, people sad, relevance cannot be found.
as a butterfly
fleets the cocoon
vivaciously flying
towards never land
I love, love

don't let time
turn silent
the answer I find
forever in your eyes
I love, love

dive in with my fate
as an infinity
speaking softly
from what you feel…
when you're with me,
and when you are alone in flight
looking for your journeys
end

I love, to love

I sit in meadows
fresh, vibrantly green
creating shapes of
the cotton ***** above
I love, to love

breeze tangos with
my hair gently
sun illuminates you
while fluttering by
I love, to love

my heart twinkles
at the thought
never to cease
blissfully fulfilled
boundlessly intertwined
confidently whispering I love
you

*I love, love...love, to love...love you
Liam Jul 2015
ink of sky inhabits her eyes
  essence of serenity almondine
so spanish in silvern adornment
  though her soul is hafnium pierced

a haven for both life and death
  embodiment of artistic expression
openly hooded in earlobe spirituality
  nominally patrician by disposition

my source stirs in futile disarray
  kindred energy infusing the moment
a tree appears on a barren landscape
  devoid of foliage, vivaciously rooting
D W Jun 2014
Among the giant pale mountains of the north,
Lies a small shelter not too far of heavens core,
As a glittering star upon the valleys that worth,
The iciness of the wandering wind sailing north,
Thriving the ghastly stillness with a stern roar,
There, under an old decaying oak tree,
He often dreamt wondering lost and sore,
Pleading and entreating murk ravens that bore,
This silent cry of his urges that implore;

"God, mighty God, to thou and only thee,
I beg thy mercy, I beg thou to let me see,
Her Seraphim countenance that I adore,
Which I have seen once and nevermore,
As she came like a leaf during a windy fall,
Leaping and dancing with bare nimble feet,
As tender as a spring wave she yielded a call,
To my vacant heart to love a love so sweet,
Conquering my psyche with a mere smile,
So gentle, as a warm Dutch summer heat,
Her peculiar eyes mischievously took my all,
Making my heart intensively vivaciously beat,
Lord! Bring us together once and for all,
As the first seed of love and life, Adam and Eve."


While the mountains murmured the echo of this call,
His days became dull of melancholy and grief,
Like a saint praying for a sinful deed,
A sinful love of wicked desires and deceit.*

© copy right protected
Devin Weaver Feb 2013
Sometimes I feel like those who
Aren’t overwhelmed
Aren’t tired and broken down
Aren’t hunched and encumbered
Those who can breathe without
Feeling a tightness that strangles
An immensity that fills the heart
With shadowy, sorrowful tangles

They must not be listening
Must have sheathed their eyes
Within the blackest, sight-denying blinders
Or else resigned to a myopic gaze
Yes, they must have made
Some unconscious decision to don
The enduring armor of ignorance
Deftly designed to repel the obvious
Forged in the fires of whimsied romance
Of furtive fairy tales in which
The protagonist, hero, heroine, the revered
The beautiful, the admired,
And all their supporting characters
Are agents of nothing

Sometimes I feel that in the stories of the free
In the mythology of respiting privilege
There is only one antagonist
Against which said armor does protect
He is truth
He is compassion
She is courage and love
She is feeling and thought
He is meaning and substance and matter itself

So, take heart, my armored many
For, it seems to me, your villain
Is nearly dead

I have the utmost faith
That each of you will do your parts
Will walk with your heads down
To your dramatic destinations
Will ignore the journey, the repercussions,
And every longing bystander
Yes, you will merrily spend, and sell,
And buy, and sell and sell
You will straightforwardly tread
Over the downtrodden with your feeling-less feet
Your blind eyes will roll about
Inside their numbing sockets
Your deafened ears will placidly bypass
The rhythms of opportunity and intuition
Your made-up mouths and raised noses
Will vivaciously avoid
The fruits of feeling, the pains of principle,
And the arduous trials of belief
In one’s fellow man

Upon the hour of final victory
I will write of epitaph and eulogy.
Keerthi Kishor Feb 2018
Find a place where you can be yourself for the day or night.
A place where your mind doesn’t over thinks constantly
about whether things are going wrong or right.

Find a place that gets your topsy-turvy love life.
A place that reminds you, you are beautiful the way you are,
you don't have to go under a knife.

Find a place that soothes down all your worries.
A place that doesn’t bother how much money you’ve left in your account and asks you why settle down now, no hurries.

Find a place that lets you live life innocently.
A place where you don’t have to worry about today's headlines or
last night’s secrets, to live life vivaciously.

Find a place that smells like freedom.
A place where you can laugh, yell, sing, dance and
doesn’t require anyone else’s opinion to validate your selfdom.

Find a place where you never limit yourself.
A place where you explore your abilities, create something beautiful and
let yourself grow, flow and truly find oneself.

Find a place where you feel secure.
A place where you don’t have to be scared of the ones that have done you wrong or have hurt you or made you feel impure.

Find a place where you can be at peace.
A place where you don’t have to be cautious of your own actions or
be bothered about others labeling you their constant conversation piece.

Find a place that makes you fight battles courageously.
A place where you finally embrace your flaws, earn your scars and
learn to live life impulsively.

Find a place that keeps prejudices away.
A place where no one curses you for your mistakes but helps you realize and learn from them in every way.

Find a place that brightens up your every day.
A place where you learn to channel the happiness, sorrow, anger and freedom and pain buried deep within you, the right way.

But most importantly,
find a place where you can love and be loved.

And when you finally find that place, hold on to it for ages to come.
Cherish each moment you spent there and call it Home.
"Blessed are those who have a roof over their head they can also call home."
Lucia Delarosa Sep 2011
Tendrils that lick my skin
Tearing into me,
Pulling me apart bit by bit,
Leaving nothing
But tender pink flesh in its wake.

The horrid sounds I hear
I find are my own.
Ripped from my throat
so vehemently,
so vivaciously.

Soon consciousness ebbs
away from me.
Numbed beyond anything,
A feeling beyond anything,
Both detested and welcome,
despised and loved.

The twisted screams and cries
are my final swan song.
My flesh crumbles away
Becoming blissfully nothing,
Regrettably something.

Nothing but ash.
I think to myself.
Nothing but ash.
I scream to myself.
Nothing but ash.
I whisper to myself.
Nothing but ash,
Nothing but ash,
And then there is only smoke.
Miss Masque Jul 2010
Look up to the sky:
It's still the same,
On the surface at least...

Look closer and you'll see:
the billions of planets moving round
Celestial heavens to which we are bound
Moving in an elliptical sea
Wrapped up in universal intimacy.

Blanket of stars:
Tuck me in,
Wrap me in your woven dreams,
Spill me into a cup of steam.
Crossbeams of light gleaming through
that dark blanket of deep blue stew.

Soup:
Carrots, peas,
celery, meat,
potatoes, beans,
simmering heat.

The heat from which this poem flows
through my mouth and out the window
into the ears of the passerby
fluttering into houses nearby.

Houses:
connected by a single thread,
we are all here together
until we all are dead.

Living:
Vivaciously
until that day I will greet the
blue, rolling sea.
Reece Oct 2013
Were they not reliable, the winds when they came
Was it not sadness they felt, when the tribes lost a name
(Amidst the rubble and ash,
he vivaciously spills his cash)
Was it not atonement swept across the crowd
Were their heads not solemn when they bowed
(A city in mourning,
strategic forewarning)
Did the music not play at low volumes in the eve
Did the stories of the past not eventually interweave
(He stands atop an empire so vast
realising now that his time has passed)
Do you not feel great elation that the town now lays dead
Do you not thank them kindly that you were allowed to be mislead
(Ah, but a story never ends with the champion
merely fertilised soil for the blooming rampion)
Brycical Nov 2014
May you rest well & tango with the crimson leaves aglow with whimsical love living in their veins vivaciously while the effervescent vicarious vespers of air spirits lift and play oboe tones atop the glorious ruby mountain in the kiss of dusk.

Also i love you dear, sweet honey cinnamon habibi queen goddess being.
JR Rhine Dec 2015
Nervously fidgeting with ring unaccustomed to left ring finger.
"It's a purity ring."
"But I'm pretty sure she gave you a *******."
No, I lied.

Remember the inside of her mouth as
warm and wet;
passionate gnashing of tongue
weeping of lust
eyes widened to this
novel sensation shocking
a pubescent body.
The world melted away
cares and woes cast in abeyance
watching her perform eyes closed
like an artist.
Entranced
the cry of love's voice silenced
with carnal desire drowning the sound,
a warm sticky tidal wave
sending sensation tingling down the spine
kicking through feet to the toes
gasps getting shorter, quicker.
My God
A car crash
What to come next
Feeling a pressure build like a flood to the dam
Concrete cracks
Levee breaks
A monument of celibacy obliterates
Dissolution into oblivion

then release.

Tension carried
slipped and you
gazed upon her
like a goddess
unlocking the eternal secret
of Man.
She sheepishly looked away
You worshiped where she lay.

Years later, nervously fidgeting with ring
well worn onto bony finger.
"You remember the warmth of naked torsos
furiously kneading like dough,
juxtaposing the harshness of denim crotches
grinding vivaciously
hoping to catch the spark to a fire."
A fire alright,
burning inside(s)
with the unlit match ready to ignite
between quivering thighs.
You had the key
undid the button of chastity
fingers slithering down
through ground fertile tillage
to a hidden chamber.
The guest pirouettes
but keeps her on her toes
in and out,
rapturous gyration.
Watching the air leave her mouth
head tilted back
til washed away
atop a sigh
that pleases an ear
to this day.
Ring feels a little looser than I remember.

Sitting atop a grassy hill,
her head on your shoulder,
watching the sunset for hours.
"Do you remember the taste of her ****** in your mouth?
I bet you can recall the path from
her kiss to her cheek,
jawline to the nape of her neck,
glissade from retreating lips
dragged across smooth skin
saliva trail moist
sliding down ever so tranquil,
velvety skin ever so alive.
Weaving through the meniscus of her breast,
expertly with eyes closed
(you've done this before, it's almost a chore),
fingers tight around waist grip a little fiercer
mouth digs in deeper.
Corner of lips communion with
goose-bumped areola;
mouth dances 'round like a native ritual,
til you pounce on the prey
proceeding with the furious primal *******
of a ravenous child,
only charged with the lustful energy of
an insatiable beast in euphoric heat.
Did your tongue rotate clockwise or counterclockwise?

Snapped back to the present,
eyes had burned holes in the fading sun
a million times over.
She had looked up at you curiously.
A weak smile in return.
You glanced down wearily at the ring that matched hers.
I still tell myself I'm a ******, having never had Vaginal/Penal ***, but at the same time I feel I have robbed myself of that purity. Sometimes I feel filthy. Always these memories arouse desire and simultaneously regret. I think its the darkness trying to get its hold on me. It's in moments like these that I feel the filthiest. Perhaps I may be able to purge by casting these demons onto the page.
Maria Polina Jan 2018
Galactic domes
Envelop the sky
Geometric tesselations
Mimic starry nights.

White cubes reside
Caressed by the sea
Freckled light tunnels
Flicker vivaciously.

Dawn of humanity
6500 BCE, Jordanian shores
Brought forth
Two-headed sculptures.
Ariel Taverner May 2015
I look at the picture
And I see her hair
Dark
Black
Cascading down the sides of her face like a black churning waterfall
Black
A deep black
So deep it drags me into her charmfulness

But this is not what catches my eyes

I see her beautiful eyes
Cast in an enchanting gaze
As if she can see farther than us all
The shadows perfectly frame her eyes
And that tiny dot of reflection within seems to be the gateway to the most intricately beautiful soul ever

But this is not what catches my eye

I see her full luscious lips
Covered in lavish red lipstick
Her lips are slightly parted as she seems to yearn for something
The sense of earnestness about her multiplied tenfold
Just by parted lips

But this is not what catches my eye

I see her left shoulder exposed by her shirt that elegantly shows her subtle skin tone
Her black hair juxtaposed perfectly next to her dark olive brown skin
Her shoulder tantalizingly flaunts its beauty to the world
Daring any and all to defy her beauty

But this is not what catches my eye
No
What catches my eye is her neck...

The black waterfall of hair
The bright reflection of her soulful eyes
The vivaciously earnest red lips
The tantalizing olive brown shoulder
Combine to form what I have come to think of as a Goddess of beauty on this earth
They all seem to point to her neck and show where her true beauty lies for me
It makes me realise that this time it's different
I could run my hand through her hair a million times
I could stare into her soulful eyes for hours
I coukd kiss her beautiful lips a million times
I could carress her flawlessly smooth shoulder until I form calluses
But I would forgo all of that if she would just let me rest my head on her shoulder
Against her neck
Where I would feel safe
And enough
And adequate
And beautiful

Yes
Indeed
It is her neck that catches my eye
To Sophia. The girl that only needed three hours to get inside my mind and stay there for the next three weeks.  If you ever read this just know that it's true
There's tons of gorgeous girls
And man they need to stop being so harsh on themselves
Too many men would **** and pillage to be with them
A little exaggeration
But you get the implication
I only have seen one woman
So vivaciously
For an elongated period of time
In my life so far
My heart has no soot or tar
Just my thoughts
But when i see her
They vanish quicker than Usain Bolt
Her presence makes me jolt
She's the hottest woman i have ever seen
And i mean that in the most respectful way possible
My heart has never felt warmer
But my insecurities take me over
I used to be an Argentina that's now an Antarctica
Am i good enough to be with her?
I need to conduct some studies
But i have no money
So I'm kind of in a hard place
She's a wall i can't get over
And secretly i don't want to.
Another love poem, what's new? lol
Venusoul7 May 2014
Vibrant Vivre
Vivaciously Vibing
Vines like Vices, stalking
Slippery as Serpents
Sensuously
Engulfing
Light into Darkness
I'm Yours now to Keep
How will this ******* Bind Me or Blind Me,
or Bond Me to You?
Will it be Mutual, Consenting
Or Master to Slave?
Who is Predator
Who is Prey?
I could
Engorge
Expand
Explode
Thread shredding Vine
Into Wine Dripping Bliss
Veins seep leaking
Succulent Juice
What once was mine
Was once Stimulating You
The Other Alternative
I'd rather not Pursue
I like the Heat
Cause this Write is a
Freak...Aaaahhhh
Ya get the subtle undertones...
Did the ****** Vine Vipe Ya...
This Viper's a Freak
Addeline Wagner Aug 2010
Yours is a dangerous love.

It is rough

…and as course as your scruff scraping against my skin
….and it bruises.
It bites.
It tears.

It pins to the wall, gasping and encaged.

It is vivaciously hungry.
In the eyes of its passion
it seeks to devour me.

It is an instinctual need.

It is dangerous.
2010
amidst cavorting delightfully, enjoying thorough
frolicking gingerly, foreign hick hating ******>hip-hopping insouciantly sustaining row

biological status quo
kvetching lamely moreso mother became pro
naturally physically rumbling,
   heard all the way in Oslo

   supposedly twerking, undulating vivaciously
wantonly x2c wisely yielded – nada no
   zona pellucida anchored byte size ******,
   potent embryonic fetal moe
newlweds nocturnal merriment
   moma's ****** marked march 1959

   lovingly joyusly, insemination happened ha low
bullseye clenched diploid fertilization
   guaranteed germinating heiress
   while squaqking lichen Apache at Diablo
   ma late mother did should know

upon awakening upon tautly stretched exertion
   during dilating ******, which jiggled like jello
three score orbitz round el sol, warmed cockles

   and muscled away brutally cold degrees
   tab billed an igloo,
   or circa six decades
   drafted exuberant **...**...**...
cuz, i.e. thencee at 362nd day

   baby in belly did fully grow
December first nineteen fifty seven
   sanctioned newly minted papa  
   to sing a capella for he's a jolly good fellow

   quintessential nascent
   kickstarter heady everflow
though wintry dark,
   a “hi” beam illuminated
   newborn girl with dayglow

sans, mechanical engine ear
   papa (an honorably discharged army vet)
   all spit and shine groom,
   who wed a bride somewhat callow

first time parents with giddiness did saul fully bellow
Boyce and Harriet Harriet countenance
   twas (like an elf on Christmas eve) all aglow.
--------------------------------------------------------
D­ear Sis – I knew not what else to do
thus, this poem crafted fur ewe
a doe ting maternal gal – whose time on Earth flew
Ian Cairns Feb 2013
The sound of your voice
Approaches my vicinity vivaciously
And your common conundrum
Bangs into my cranium as bongos do
My ears and my mind may be neighbors
But they purposely put up white picket fences
My ears- although adept
Sometimes make a mess
My mind keeps a clean yard
And always takes out the trash
Xiomara Hussein Jul 2016
I crave to feel the pangs of anxiety fill my fleshy veins
Hastily they induce brief, jolting, electric, waves of tenderness
I am revitalized like cracked lips to a water drenched cloth
Suckeling the remnants of satisfaction
Ravenously the addiction sets in and swarms the empty worlds in between my teeth
Words filling them in as the deceit spreads
I am diseased and bewildered, I ache for the hazardous
It’s the lust and temptation of the night I fear will fade away
Bare white mountainous knuckles gripping to the guileless lucid ideas of serendipitous romances
Surrendering to the howl whilst giving in to the bittersweet and otherworldly seductions of marrow
Scraping pieces of the exceptions with a fine tuned whistle and blow deep into my mind's havoc
I’ve desired the ever changing hands of he to fool me perpetually
Unfamiliar lips in shapes and sizes fill my ears with ceaseless notions
Rippling soul shuddering vibrations as if they were the whispers of past lovers
There is no you definitively
Roaming vivaciously in darkened walkways
Sore blistering hands reach palms up beaten sweaty, uninhibited, and cool
Etching each tick of the patron clock into my skin, grimacing as the moments slip
For when the hue of the lunar’s menace gleam is no longer near
Tomorrow night you will be a different you
Tenderly forgiving the infractions of dusk’s wicked mystic
As l walk past immortalized shadows down by the sea to meet another hue
Andrew Guzaldo c Jul 2022
“Abate agonizing, when the grieving troposphere reaping,
As it navigates a shift as the pulverizing leaflets,
As this tender moment of nature steals upon me my deep, emotions as we drift from the Archipelago,  

As the steep tall rocks swerve towards the edge of the, precipices we navigate towards our archipelago refuge,
As my heart inflection my heart beats vivaciously, through my entire body,

Conscious only of you I belong to you there is really,
A way of expressing that is not impregnable enough,
All that my soul pines to express at this instant,
Is included in the one word avidity,

A total contradiction of life if I were with those,
I loved I would only wish to be in obscure distance,
Now as I am far away all I do is wish for one more, day surrounded by those I love that home could be,

Odyssey bound for the homeland on the briny deep afar that father and husband's longing, as it seems that,
Gaviiform seabird bellows with tumultuous placidity,
Sleep the blossoms of a future flower,

You have, by your tenderness and worth twisted yourself more artfully round my heart, then I supposed possible on this my refuge,
Archipelago Refuge”
                 By Andrew Guzaldo July 17, 2022 ©   #211
By Andrew Guzaldo July 17, 2022 ©   #211
Caitlin Skye Aug 2013
Endlessly, it blew;
In no particular direction.
Passing through our unruly hair,
Wayward strands fluttering about,
It was the norm.
We unknowingly knew of nothing better.
Until the sun shone, glimmering vivaciously
And we were blinded.
Forgotten was the wind,
And forgotten was the friendship that had us trapped in a whirlwind
Of laughter, joy, chaos and unnecessary turmoil.
Mr. Hopsons polished , placid pond surrounded by dark green July corn , teeming with mud and flathead catfish , dairy cattle call on clear blue , bucolic afternoons .. Black tadpoles crowd her tall vegetative shore , hoof prints riddle lonesome trails , killdeer chirp atop Elizabeth rose fence lines , paddocks come alive with abundant , fragrant wildflowers of every shape , color and size ..
Beagles cry for their midday meal , songbirds vivaciously work the white barn homestead , Rhode Island Reds gather for Noon feast , Embden Geese patrol East seeking the blacktop , waddle noisily along the gravel drive , forever curious , even a touch boisterous and foolhardy from time to time ..
Charolais bulls command the molasses lick , working salt blocks , lay
without fear beneath tin topped field shelters ..
Copyright February 16 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
KM Ramsey Apr 2015
i miss the dancing
and the unextinguishable lightness
of neon taffy sun rays
their barbed tails dripping
with honey as skates
flutter their wings in harmony
to stir sand and silt
and muddy waters
shatter crystal crysalises
cast shadow on frozen aquatic scenes
sandpaper skin
camouflages cartilaginous confessions

there is no dancing
in suspended animation
cryo-tanks where duplicitously drumming hearts
are stopped cold
atomic vibrations not buzzing
nor breathing objects
calling vivaciously to be consumed

tear me open
release the sensuous siren
whose diaphanous frocks
whip wildly in her
placid pirouette and
caresses my face like
a mother’s hand wiping away
tears which released the pain
that constant inescapable pressure
lance my skin
and bring forth that vile contaminant
slice the membrane around my heart
and in my crimson blood
in my metallic olfactory orchestra
separate dissonance from coalescence
and understand my conundrum
distill my banned message
and decode my heart.
Sam Ciel Aug 2016
Always. Anytime anyone asks about always, but before brutish chance can coerce, clashing choices decide destiny. Everyone except the exceptional few feel flustered, frustrated, foolish, faint, and frankly, ******. God gives graciously, gestures gestating generosity. However, he has his intricate intelligence of intimate ideas and ideologies. In jest, jubilee, and joviality, a juncture. A joust for the jugular. Keen and kindling, kindred killing, keelhauling laughter and loitering love, mankind makes mistakes. Many mistakes. Mortality is... notorious. Openly obstinate, obfuscating perpetual pain with quick, quiet quarks of rotating rationale and regular, radical, senseless self sacrifice and sacrilege; Stop. Time turns tumultuously, ticking towards tomorrow. This thing, these things, take time. Understand. Ultimately, unhappiness vexes vivaciously. Without withdrawal, where would we wander? I wonder. Yearning for yore, zealots. Zephyrs on the wind.
The only thing that is eternal is the search for forever.
Leila Valencia Apr 2016
Her chair by the grandfather clock
Creaked with ticking and tocking - a moment awaits
She grips her hands softly
Her furrowed brow creased and squinted a moments memory
The pillows of green lounged and her lover caressed her golden locks

1964

In memories of black and white his arms carried her
She carried him with her
In plushness, her cheeks puffed, her lips puckered
Her blue eyes gleaming vivaciously
As the waving goldness of yellow and orange waved back and forth
Leaning their backs towards the eye of the sun
The couple gleefully, held on to one another

Hours turned over into days - passing by time
They gripped tight on to eachother.
Moving in they moon danced to the stars
Sleeping in their hammock
Yet she felt him loosen with ease
The flower by their sink rotten and cumbled into oblivion
She cried for days yet they held on to each other

The mail man comes early today.....

She heard him cry
The foreboding of death crawled into their home, unexpectedly
The grim fate had him pulled him away
Cut loose and shield our touches - his departure to the battlefield

His flights leaves and time is the hourglass
She recalls the night of his departure vividly

6:34 - Fighting

6:41 - Screaming

6:45 - All of the kitchen ware is shattered

6:53 - Him gluing the parts together

7:00 - Making love

7:39 - Him walking down the street waving

7:45 pm - Lights out

Current Day

Every day sitting
Lights out
Sipping white wine in a tea cup - awaiting a knock

The slow creak of her door opens
Opens ever so slightly, yet she sees a tall shadow
She steps up, puts her cup down and sees someone
Michael S Davis Apr 2013
A wondrous beauty entered the room
Wide and surprised, my eyes took her in.
This wonderful woman captured my heart.
Feelings I’d concealed surfaced right then.
And before I could stop, there escaped from my lips
A word I never used to describe such a sight.
It rose from my soul and leapt from my heart,
Then rolled off my tongue with delirious delight.
It reached out caressing and caught her off guard.
Then vivaciously a smile flashed across her sweet face,
As she realized how sincerely that word did describe
How I saw in her form such beauty and grace.
Each time I see her from then until now,
That word rises, and leaps and rolls to my tongue.
And I just can’t describe her except to say, “Wow!”

©1999 Michael S. Davis
Anderson M Apr 2018
Resting against the backdrop
Of a host of clouds
Yearning for adulation
Gracefully swaying her hips in
Brusque jerks, she colorfully
In deliberate detail
Vivaciously enchants would be onlookers.
#Acrostic #Roygbiv
William Jun 2019
Aspen of Appalachia, away,
Bereft from bleating, brooding bovine.
Clay County contrives conspiracy
Doomed, darkened, deceitful. Directed
Eastward at Eastaboga’s emp’ror
Full of most fitting flight, fleeing from
God. Those good graces known given up,
Heartily, exchanged happenstance his
Immortal soul for idolatry.
Jeered at Jehovah, jested Jesus,
Kingdom keeping the kicked knaves knowing
Lowly that the Lord lash little at
Men who make ****** and mudwork made
Nightly. Nefarious no-goods now,
Open but not ostracized. Oh, old
People praise the past per penchant but
Quickly they quit; queerly quell their quest,
Running from redemption and rambling
So he stopped searching, got set soulless,  
Turned to the tantric, tuned to the tumult,
Unburdened with useless unknowns. Up
Verily and vivaciously, vet  
Words which will warrant wonder. Why not
*******, excellent, exuberant?
Yet, ye of yellow faith, yon Yahweh
Zeros the zest of zig-zagged zetas.

— The End —