Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"vocalize" poems
Nothing more beautiful Than a pair of big brown eyes Our world tells us that for eyes to be beautiful they have to match the skies but that's all lies There's nothing more beautiful than staring into her eyes and seeing how her soul is connected to the earth Mother nature's nectar, and me just a hummingbird Only needing one, I don't need to be a collector cause you see Her beautiful brown eyes are deeper than blue skies her beautiful brown eyes are compassionate and wise I could not vocalize, all her brown eyes symbolize, or how much I love staring them as she wakes me up at sunrise And when I'm with her it's hard to prioritize, all I want to do is romanticize, hop on our cloud and rise I'm so happy I met you, my darling, the girl with the brown eyes
0
Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 1:43 AM UTC
Girl with the brown eyes
Can't live without you. I can't live without you. You're my light, my life, you are everything of that is made my existence. I love you... There are no words to vocalize what I feel. I give away all of them  with my heart... My heart is full of you... Only of you... You filled it entirely of your marvelous, sublime, heavenly essence. No, I could never live without you, I swear.
0
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 8:37 AM UTC
Speechless
In the question of reassurance. The single solemn response cannot always end with one that causes the most anxiety. The involvement of social media, random dm's, the arrangement of severed ties mended with one thing in mind. For these reasons insecurity deepens. Eventually things fall apart. It's not always about opening your mouth. There are other ways to be vocal. Silence becomes deafening. Defeating the purpose of awareness. Tempers quickly raise and often the things that aren't meant to be said come out. Echoing the loudest. Petty arguments, the excuses that lead us into the messages we're quick to hide. Despite how much time we've invested, the easiest thing to do is walk away. Anxiety becoming the fear that pushes us the furthest into ourselves. It's not always easy. Opening up, vocalizing a single woe that begins the journey of a thousand, if not more. If forced, we too begin to shut down and contemplate the single best thing. Being seen as selfish, self-centered. Quick burst that justifies wrongful intent with one that's right. It's all about support. Care & understanding. The saving grace that bonds the realization that either of us are perfect. That there are deeper issues at hand that seep far beyond.  the way we see ourselves, whether we are too big. Too small, the things we find often too late, said behind our back. outside of everything else do you truly understand the quality of reassurance. the equivalent to the moment everything seems to come crashing down. The times any slight movement brings us down the most. Equally we both seek the same. The response reflects the moment. To defy standard and move to something meaningful. At a point, the question deserves an answer. Going in one ear, quickly coming out the other. To vocalize seemingly in one direction unless the role is reversed
0
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 9:41 AM UTC
Situationship
In the question of reassurance. The single solemn response cannot always end with one that causes the most anxiety. The involvement of social media, random dm's, the arrangement of severed ties mended with one thing in mind. For these reasons insecurity deepens. Eventually things fall apart. It's not always about opening your mouth. There are other ways to be vocal. Silence becomes deafening. Defeating the purpose of awareness. Tempers quickly raise and often the things that aren't meant to be said come out. Echoing the loudest. Petty arguments, the excuses that lead us into the messages we're quick to hide. Despite how much time we've invested, the easiest thing to do is walk away. Anxiety becoming the fear that pushes us the furthest into ourselves. It's not always easy. Opening up, vocalizing a single woe that begins the journey of a thousand, if not more. If forced, we too begin to shut down and contemplate the single best thing. Being seen as selfish, self-centered. Quick burst that justifies wrongful intent with one that's right. It's all about support. Care & understanding. The saving grace that bonds the realization that either of us are perfect. That there are deeper issues at hand that seep far beyond.  the way we see ourselves, whether we are too big. Too small, the things we find often too late, said behind our back. outside of everything else do you truly understand the quality of reassurance. the equivalent to the moment everything seems to come crashing down. The times any slight movement brings us down the most. Equally we both seek the same. The response reflects the moment. To defy standard and move to something meaningful. At a point, the question deserves an answer. Going in one ear, quickly coming out the other. To vocalize seemingly in one direction unless the role is reversed
Continue reading...
37
I analyze,                                                                    my whole entire world I specialize,                                                                  always in acting a fool I socialize,                                                        but the truth trickles through I vocalize,                                                                         not wanting to undo I internalize,                                                          everything that matters to With surprise                                                                            the ones I love I realize,                                                                   they never left my side Then I visualize.                                             Always believing what is right.
0
Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 3:11 AM UTC
Virgo.
how does one go about expressing their love to a girl? I've never felt like this about a girl, before but everything - my heart, pounding and vulnerable and so impossibly fragile - now seems to depend on her. her laughter is like the colour yellow and it turns my vision hazy every time the expression she wears is innocent and unassuming but those hazel eyes are white-hot fire she's got this rosewood hair that floats around her, ethereal, her hands are gentle, delicate her heart is so full of love her arms, filled with kidness she turns the blood in my veins to crackling flames. look at her mouth. what can I say. how can I vocalize this kind of want. this kind of hunger. I'd never tell. no, I'd never say a word.
0
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 12:36 PM UTC
her
People say don’t compare yourself to others but  I stand next strength and I stand next to beauty People say do your best and that’s enough, but I will never be enough, cause I  vocalize with a singer and play with an athlete People say you need to believe in yourself but I live  with popular and I live with leaders People say confidence is key to hiding your fear but I sit next to credence and I converse with bravery
0
Feb 24, 2018
Feb 24, 2018 at 4:19 PM UTC
Beside greatness I stand
By the time, I finish staring. and take time to visualize, what you are wearing. I internalize with my eyes, your body language vocalize. I focus, as I, verbalize, by saying something nice and polite -- on the outside. But, on the inside. . .
0
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 11:43 AM UTC
Mind ****
Music is my Deity and so benevolent is it! A mystical Tapestry woven upon Silence and across Time, what about that is not Divine? Music doesn't divide, it unites. It attracts expressive minds, creative minds, empathic minds, logical minds. It creates an abstract temporal psychosocial middle-ground; You don't have to be a virtuoso to drum along or dance or vocalize. You don't have to be a virtuoso for practice to reap it's rewards. We speak with Music: Language is a Musical thing; it employs Rhythm and Pitch and works through Time. Music is a Linguistic thing; it communicates things that otherwise cannot be said while also having room for Language itself. Music is no singular aspect; Music is not defined by medium, nor is it defined by orchestration. Music is wholly Abstract, relating only back to itself. Music is defined by context; Music is a matter of perspective. Footsteps are music, in 2/4 time. Heartbeats are music, in 3/4 time; this defines "swing" feel. A Clock is music, in 1/1 time at 60 beats per minute. A year is music, in 365.25/1 time at 1 beat per day. The duration of the Moon's orbital period and Day are a Unison; 1:1. The four Galilean moons of Jupiter orbit with the resonance of Octaves; 2:1 ratios of wavelength. The ratio of the lengths of Mercury's Year to it's Day is nearly a Perfect Fifth; 3:2. Music is implicit. Music is mystical. Music is a Metaphor manifest, for the nature of the Universe; even the very word "Universe" means "The One Song". Music is truly intrinsic; I am a Shaman of Music. It is an Honor.
0
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 2:03 PM UTC
Music is my Deity
Music is my Deity and so benevolent is it! A mystical Tapestry woven upon Silence and across Time, what about that is not Divine? Music doesn't divide, it unites. It attracts expressive minds, creative minds, empathic minds, logical minds. It creates an abstract temporal psychosocial middle-ground; You don't have to be a virtuoso to drum along or dance or vocalize. You don't have to be a virtuoso for practice to reap it's rewards. We speak with Music: Language is a Musical thing; it employs Rhythm and Pitch and works through Time. Music is a Linguistic thing; it communicates things that otherwise cannot be said while also having room for Language itself. Music is no singular aspect; Music is not defined by medium, nor is it defined by orchestration. Music is wholly Abstract, relating only back to itself. Music is defined by context; Music is a matter of perspective. Footsteps are music, in 2/4 time. Heartbeats are music, in 3/4 time; this defines "swing" feel. A Clock is music, in 1/1 time at 60 beats per minute. A year is music, in 365.25/1 time at 1 beat per day. The duration of the Moon's orbital period and Day are a Unison; 1:1. The four Galilean moons of Jupiter orbit with the resonance of Octaves; 2:1 ratios of wavelength. The ratio of the lengths of Mercury's Year to it's Day is nearly a Perfect Fifth; 3:2. Music is implicit. Music is mystical. Music is a Metaphor manifest, for the nature of the Universe; even the very word "Universe" means "The One Song". Music is truly intrinsic; I am a Shaman of Music. It is an Honor.
Continue reading...
41
Sorrow weighing heavy Pain is running deep Through my broken veins and aching heart it seeps The tears they overwhelm me Like hands about my throat Can’t vocalize this feeling A scream the only note I cannot feel the sunlight Cold chills me to the core Paralyzed in darkness Cowering on the stone hard floor Life is all but spent My strength is fading fast A world away from fancy dreams and the love I yearned to last I wonder if they’re happy Getting high on life Knowing I can’t be there Another twisting knife Don’t want to taste the tears I try hard to swallow down Grieving thoughts consume me I fear I’m going to drown
0
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 6:20 AM UTC
Drowning
It’s the damndest thing when attentions focused on one thing beget the focus of another Like the rooster crowing the sunlight in the cold, ungrateful weather, My eyes scan the ups and downs of those digital stand-ins for those I’ve known Seeing mistakes, my own and in others, Seeing perfection, in other’s imperfect successes, wantonly rubbed in my eyes As I springboard from the travails of those with whom I may never vocalize my adoration I drop out of the air of a life far from mine, I see mention of a passed on spirit Who I truly adored, no digital fakery of half-true fables necessary to express my love for the ideals implanted in me by such a tongue so supplicant to the truths in that vast ether where I used to swim in the light, never thinking of the dark climes below. What choice do I have on an accidental evening like tonight? I no longer can mask disinterest for other’s soaring narratives when my true care has been discovered, been pried away from that dark corner of the airborne pool so ethereal. My care, my pride have been torn asunder, by a mere errant glance on a mere sideways mention Of a massive, earthly idol, who, if only for a stanza of years held my full gaze with hopeful smiles and ecstatic promise for bright futures now gone into grey pastures. I lay here an imposter in authentic skin if only for the sight of words on screens, with scant meaning in between.
0
Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 4:54 PM UTC
Mrs. J, What Can I Say?
Fingers elegantly swimming across a sea of black and white keys, each one unique and substantial to each melody. They speak to the ears that long for a tune, as people entangle themselves until they are consumed. Let me play the depths of my soul, in each crevasse and story that remains untold. When words fail to vocalize all that I feel, I turn to this instrument so that it may reveal; Every emotion and memory that lingers in my mind, what only these keys can only define. They're like any key it's simple to see, but I understand if you're having some difficulty. A key opens a door and These keys open my soul.
0
Jan 18, 2012
Jan 18, 2012 at 10:17 PM UTC
Piano Keys
I should apologize for the days I am withdrawn. This is not what you signed up for. I should apologize for when I don't want to speak or communicate with touch or when I want to be without you but also do not. My indecisiveness is appalling: and I should apologize for that. But today I do not want words. I do not want to be felt because I feel you grabbing and pulling instead of caressing and comforting. You have not done anything wrong. I am just mean. I am just inside myself today and when you want to know what is up I want you to accept that I say the sky instead of pressing for more. My thoughts are poison right now. You shake me like a magic eight ball and I keep thinking try again later but saying not likely. I have the capacity to be kind but my words are pinpricks in your chest and every time I claw you with my numbness I inwardly cringe because I don't mean it, I am sorry, and I should apologize. But I can't. I can not bring myself to vocalize that I am not okay because you'll want to help and I don't want to be okay. Not yet. I want to hide in my closet and cry without company. I want time to myself today. But I don't want to hurt you. I am sorry. You are no burden. I am withdrawing. Not from you, but from me. I don't want to be kind, or resilient, or strong today. I just want to fold into myself, I want to be small and insignificant. I am tired of being fun and happy, it's tiring work. I need time to be low without an interrogation. I just want to be empty for a moment. And I should apologize.
0
Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 11:39 AM UTC
Yesterday, Today, and Probably Tomorrow
I should apologize for the days I am withdrawn. This is not what you signed up for. I should apologize for when I don't want to speak or communicate with touch or when I want to be without you but also do not. My indecisiveness is appalling: and I should apologize for that. But today I do not want words. I do not want to be felt because I feel you grabbing and pulling instead of caressing and comforting. You have not done anything wrong. I am just mean. I am just inside myself today and when you want to know what is up I want you to accept that I say the sky instead of pressing for more. My thoughts are poison right now. You shake me like a magic eight ball and I keep thinking try again later but saying not likely. I have the capacity to be kind but my words are pinpricks in your chest and every time I claw you with my numbness I inwardly cringe because I don't mean it, I am sorry, and I should apologize. But I can't. I can not bring myself to vocalize that I am not okay because you'll want to help and I don't want to be okay. Not yet. I want to hide in my closet and cry without company. I want time to myself today. But I don't want to hurt you. I am sorry. You are no burden. I am withdrawing. Not from you, but from me. I don't want to be kind, or resilient, or strong today. I just want to fold into myself, I want to be small and insignificant. I am tired of being fun and happy, it's tiring work. I need time to be low without an interrogation. I just want to be empty for a moment. And I should apologize.
Continue reading...
1
You trace my lips With your fingertips You softly chuckle Biting your bottom lip To stifle your laughter At the sound of my silent Whimpering As my eyes urgently plead With thoughts That would cause me to blush If I were to vocalize them They are soon replaced With your lips Flushed against mine As your hands slowly Begin their descent Deftly grazing Against the curves of my body Which you've memorized Inch By Inch
0
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 2:31 PM UTC
Words Lips Can't Say But Eyes Can
Composing Hallelujah Fractious lines crack, holiday decorate the spirit inferior, while each note upon the priest's guitar penetrates the aspirin roughened interior, face slaps me, daggers and accuses, you're not composing hallelujah. So I mislead, big deal, composing the anti-hallelujah, yeah, I was ******** with you, as you sit across from me electronically pretending, me to you, you to me. Lie to each other with smiling faces, you too have reaped, been emotionally ***** by what our minds see and sow, scowls and howls, we've both grown our own demons. My secrets, maybe are all there, maybe, writ loud and clear, in the songs I choose to share, and in the unrevealed ones, buried alive, held in reserve, but not, for your average, rainy day, could be today, you have no say. Are we not all veterans of a kind, don't we all have ribbons on our chest, stripes and stars on our khaki blouse, a record of our own great campaigns, including the war to end all wars, the never ending one, the one the psycho-historians renamed, "The 24/7 Year Conflagration"? It used to be just my secret, no more don't need a cartoonist to tell me that's the enemy is us, and there are moles, traitors, hidden deep in our intelligence organization, planting seeds, urges, pushing to out the identity of our communist friend, Depression I don't mean the ordinary, garden variety, a mere moody blues recession, when funk is sourced from gray clouds, served up proper, cold and wet, then travels on when sun warmth clarifies temporarily, the aspirin kicking in. So I misled, composing the anti-hallelujah, yeah, I was ******** with you, sit across from me and lie to me, lie to each other with smiling faces we reap what we own, scowls and howls. A chorus of harmonious poseurs inside your own City Center, vocalize the lyrics of the anti-hallelujah, a composition of questions directed at whomever in tonight's audience deserves it, asking, nerving, to sing too loud, at decibel speed: Are these verses, curses about D, our mutual acquaintance, or just research notes for further followup, part two of a pas de deux, and, did you go this time, too far, or still not far enough? -
0
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 7:29 PM UTC
Composing Hallelujah
Composing Hallelujah Fractious lines crack, holiday decorate the spirit inferior, while each note upon the priest's guitar penetrates the aspirin roughened interior, face slaps me, daggers and accuses, you're not composing hallelujah. So I mislead, big deal, composing the anti-hallelujah, yeah, I was ******** with you, as you sit across from me electronically pretending, me to you, you to me. Lie to each other with smiling faces, you too have reaped, been emotionally ***** by what our minds see and sow, scowls and howls, we've both grown our own demons. My secrets, maybe are all there, maybe, writ loud and clear, in the songs I choose to share, and in the unrevealed ones, buried alive, held in reserve, but not, for your average, rainy day, could be today, you have no say. Are we not all veterans of a kind, don't we all have ribbons on our chest, stripes and stars on our khaki blouse, a record of our own great campaigns, including the war to end all wars, the never ending one, the one the psycho-historians renamed, "The 24/7 Year Conflagration"? It used to be just my secret, no more don't need a cartoonist to tell me that's the enemy is us, and there are moles, traitors, hidden deep in our intelligence organization, planting seeds, urges, pushing to out the identity of our communist friend, Depression I don't mean the ordinary, garden variety, a mere moody blues recession, when funk is sourced from gray clouds, served up proper, cold and wet, then travels on when sun warmth clarifies temporarily, the aspirin kicking in. So I misled, composing the anti-hallelujah, yeah, I was ******** with you, sit across from me and lie to me, lie to each other with smiling faces we reap what we own, scowls and howls. A chorus of harmonious poseurs inside your own City Center, vocalize the lyrics of the anti-hallelujah, a composition of questions directed at whomever in tonight's audience deserves it, asking, nerving, to sing too loud, at decibel speed: Are these verses, curses about D, our mutual acquaintance, or just research notes for further followup, part two of a pas de deux, and, did you go this time, too far, or still not far enough? -
Continue reading...
67
My worst fear realized Beyond scared & paralyzed the moment I recognized the signs in the fading eyes of a lover as she re-lives the lies & cries herself to sleep with sorrowful lullabies Ones only heard by the clouds and the stars they pass by in the night skies The ones just as lonely and as distant as a sunrise on the moons romanticized dark sides mingling with the anticipated replies to the backlog of "why's" that don't even bother with fly-bys Somewhere out past where hope dies Where both love and hate are lobotomized then cannibalized even weaponized for passion triggered crimes leaving no one surprised Where the only allies one finds arrive in disguise as the best of times as the worst of times building up to a multitude of inevitable good-byes How was I to vocalize a mess of this size when I don't have the ability to visualize even loosing such a prize... ©2024
0
Feb 21, 2024
Feb 21, 2024 at 12:06 AM UTC
~•§•~ I Can't Bare to Look Into Your Eyes at Times ~•§•~
Trees swaying against the gentle wind, The birds vocalize their melodic tune. Across the tree sat an unloved boy, Who tried to make sense of the world. He would ask the birds questions, As though they were his friends. Play with a colony of ants In pretense that they were his siblings. One fateful day an unloved girl, Placed herself next to him, Mesmerised by his playfulness to nature, She asks, "Do you know what love is?" The boy pondered and pondered, Coming up with a simplistic explanation, "Love is like the tree, it holds everything together", The unloved girl took the boys hand with hers, And said, "Love isn't something figured out, It's not meant to be known but felt, It can be confusing as black holes, To as simple as a bird in a nest." She took a deep breath with his hands still in hers, "Love is what I want us two to figure out". This was how an unloved boy, And an unloved girl, Became just a boy, And just a girl, For they found love in each other.
0
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 12:50 PM UTC
Under The Tree
Picking nasty notes Not the yellow ones That stare back at you right Before you open the fridge-door But, blue ones that wave to my ear Under the moon that is Breaking through the picture window Notes in the air, notes expressing despair The moon shines for no one It is late, no traffic The radiator hisses and ticks and pops Trying hard to vocalize between plucked notes Mighty vibrations vibrating Blues dark blue, blues light blue Blues hurting, angry, breaking free Into a turquoise green-blue sea Back to the black of night With the moonlight and a salty tear on ones cheek
0
Jan 12, 2022
Jan 12, 2022 at 1:24 AM UTC
Blues by Moonlight
I am so cautious and reckless at the same time. I give little pieces of myself to strangers every day swift glances quick pauses in which the other person becomes quickly informed of my inadequacies. I stutter. I have so many words running fast to the front of my mind that i can never quite think of which i want to vocalize first. i bite my lip to stop the jumble from overflowing. i am afraid that i'm a tower. so tall and mighty with power until one brick crumbles and i become nothing but debris. so put together yet falling apart i am ever so tumultuous with my aquarius and emotional with cancer forever organizing the two with my capricorn. i am within my signs and my signs are within me. so i dive as far as i can go in my ocean and i sit on this bed and think of all the things i left unsaid and feel those words pounding their way in my head trying to burst through the dam. there is a fist in my head punching out my tears and it is ruthless-- i am being abused from the inside out. i've lost count of the bruises on the insides of my skin. i can't quite make out the scars from within. but i've got russian skin and it hides everything so well i am quite difficult to read i've been told and i find it impossible to express these bruises and scars - i feel stuck - unable to express and unable to be understood. in a glass box pushing at the walls begging the surrounding strangers to understand pleading with myself to learn the skills of communication quick before the crowd disappears. i am a patchwork of nerves and anxiety. i've got beauty sewn through my veins and a wall sewn thickly around my heart.
0
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 7:04 PM UTC
patchwork
I am so cautious and reckless at the same time. I give little pieces of myself to strangers every day swift glances quick pauses in which the other person becomes quickly informed of my inadequacies. I stutter. I have so many words running fast to the front of my mind that i can never quite think of which i want to vocalize first. i bite my lip to stop the jumble from overflowing. i am afraid that i'm a tower. so tall and mighty with power until one brick crumbles and i become nothing but debris. so put together yet falling apart i am ever so tumultuous with my aquarius and emotional with cancer forever organizing the two with my capricorn. i am within my signs and my signs are within me. so i dive as far as i can go in my ocean and i sit on this bed and think of all the things i left unsaid and feel those words pounding their way in my head trying to burst through the dam. there is a fist in my head punching out my tears and it is ruthless-- i am being abused from the inside out. i've lost count of the bruises on the insides of my skin. i can't quite make out the scars from within. but i've got russian skin and it hides everything so well i am quite difficult to read i've been told and i find it impossible to express these bruises and scars - i feel stuck - unable to express and unable to be understood. in a glass box pushing at the walls begging the surrounding strangers to understand pleading with myself to learn the skills of communication quick before the crowd disappears. i am a patchwork of nerves and anxiety. i've got beauty sewn through my veins and a wall sewn thickly around my heart.
Continue reading...
81
Blame the skies for giving me the ability to believe in infinity in endless chances after making mistakes in numerous again's Blame the seas for instilling a sense of curiosity that's seduced by mystery under the pretty blue surface Blame the stars for granting me so many wishes but never fulfilling my favorite ones Blame my mind for not having any borders that filter what comes out of my mouth Blame my heart for rippling emotions that splash that burn with spontaneity and glow with passion Blame my dreams for diluting my reality with my favorite happy ending Blame my mouth for planting promises on your lips that I wish I can pinky promise forever Blame my hands for caressing and massaging all the pleasures of life, the pleasures of being natural, into that thick skin Blame my words for saying things my mouth will always fail to vocalize and finally blame the last moon for always reminding me of you every time it's full anywhere I am
0
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 6:33 AM UTC
It's always been the Moon
I have unique opinions Just like all of you Sometimes they seem out there I have a different view I think that show is good, I think that dress looks nice, I think that things are better When you experience them twice But my opinions are wrong Or so you'd have me believe You don't listen to a word I say Because you think that I'm naive I vocalize my thoughts And all I hear is "No" You always shut me down because I "think" whereas you "know" I can't get out a single thought Without you telling me I'm wrong Your words continue on forever And eventually others tag along Everything you ever say You present as if it's fact Other people must be mistaken And you inform them without tact Lately I don't even bother I keep my thoughts all locked away It isn't worth it with you fighting Against every word I say I think people need to shut up And just let me say my due I'm aloud to have my own opinions But of course that opinion is wrong too
0
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 3:05 AM UTC
Silenced
Do you remember? When we laughed so hard, That I lost a contact? That little jig you did started me chuckling, My snorts got you to join in, My ribs hurt the next day. Do you remember? When I told you that I first loved you, And you kept me in suspense? Later on, you told me that you felt the same when I said it, But was scared that it was too soon for you to vocalize it too, But to be honest I wanted to tell you on our second date. Do you remember? When you first seemed to read my mind, And told me exactly what was going on in my brain? I was furious with your father, And I wanted to snap him in two, You just looked at me with your hypnotic green eyes, And told me to breath, Rubbing my shoulders as you did so. Do you remember? That first pregnancy scare, Where we didn't know what we were going to do? We were in your car, Outside that convention we were volunteering at, And that talk laid the groundwork for what we would eventually have to go through. Do you remember? Our first kiss, Upon that restaurant roof? Slow dancing to Tyler Childers, Playing through the tinny speakers of a phone, On that warm sunny day in June.
0
Jan 7, 2023
Jan 7, 2023 at 1:01 AM UTC
Reminisce
Laying on the saline scale beach, barren, staring at those vaguely African trees while the breeze claps with their leaves. They applaud the Tesla bitten thunderstorm brewing on another shore, its tar black clouds, sticky with tobacco residue & plasma spit, flaunting In the salty starlight. & here we are. Tangled in each other. Tripping over lips & tumbling over mumbles, we try desperately to vocalize the scene that has comfortably Presented itself. Oh how that galactic beast threw itself over the countryside, skulking in southern wind like a cliche heartbeat running on urea and ***** electricity. We hoard our secrets for nights like these.
0
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 10:51 PM UTC
Witch Killers
I drown under the weight of what floats Yes, what floats... What floats through the air when you look at me What floats through my mind when you smile And what floats through my dreams while I sleep You float through my life The way Earth floats through space And space floats through time And time floats into the unknown All the more excruciating considering Earth, space, time, and the unknown are what complicate our situation so much I try to vocalize your essence But my words come across as saccharine They do not touch your brilliance Because you float against the current So I must swim Swim to find my way to you So we can float together Until then though... I must float to keep from drowning I must swim to keep from floating Yet I drown to keep from swimming You're my trumpet in the dark I hear your horn leagues under the water Yet when I reach out to touch you Nothing is there... Nothing is here... I see disappointment and hatred floating near you I see regret and shame floating on the horizon So I float here... And drown under the weight of what floats
0
May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 1:48 PM UTC
Float
Til twinkle pinkie rosebuds turn shrubbery so wild wilder than the fume upon which the moonglade climbs gloomy tide to make welcome of the night until the little birds sing your name then times be as happy as flame One goldfinch and 3 white pigeons a colourful macaw parrot and falconet or the black crowncrane of large pinions soul's fleeting harbinger of the lorikeet type, as i await the little birds sing The whole of my being approves by the star shining in northerly clime as in clinging on tight to a feeling so true of grim death in moment so prime until the birds vocalize your name only then shall I not feel the disdain Patience robs the clamouring chest heels are still weary and cold in rest and soon little birds send me tweets by the dawn chorus of early birds' beats shall one become happy and gay
0
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 2:47 AM UTC
Miss Anonym