"waterfalls" poems
Why do poets always talk about the ocean's waves,
about their single file march to shore,
and yet never talk about my grandmother's farts,
which arrive in time, one after the other, with equal
regularity?
Are these poets too holy to comment on anything
less than nature's flashiest gestures?
Are we going to spend another millenia searching
for meaning in sunsets and waterfalls?
Or will we finally turn our ear to Grammy's ****
and away from all that pretty stuff,
and hear that foul, muted trumpet sing,
marking the end of an era?
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 4:45 PM UTC
Dont go chasing waterfalls
my girl
please
stay here with the lazy flow
under
willow trees
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 11:43 AM UTC
He is;
caving in her walls, raising up her hips
tighten his grips, pulling her into him
crashing her body into his like waterfalls
her jaw drops as he massages her walls
motioned by her motions
his motions are
stirred up with deep emotions
It lifts her up to give him a rise
their thirsty bodies capitalize on the synchronized ride
eyes closed like they are hypnotized
her peaks climbing the highest of highs
temperature rising, fire between her thighs
her soothing heat, his body mesmerized
she came so hard even he is satisfied
Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 10:52 PM UTC
*
What an "ANGELUS" time it is
These times of LOVE
The "SALATS" of the moment
embraces everything around us
Is it the "FAJR" of birds kissing?
Is it the "ASR" of cats stretching?
Is it the "MAGHRIB" of peacocks screams?
Those are the sound of LOVE I suppose
I can see on the cheeks
The wetness of the kiss
That has not dried yet
Who is the LOVE
(BELOVEDz / LOVERz) who causes
The tears swell in the eyes
Of the one who LOVES?
Why is the eagerness to touch
The bare shoulders so enticing?
Why the heart longs to
drown into LOVE
(BELOVEDz / LOVERz) core?
Placing one's face on the lap
The flower smells jasmine rains
Close eyes and experience my LOVE
When I seal your pores with my lips?
Can I sing you lullabies
When you sleep besides me peacefully?
Can I snap a new art sculpture
Out of your hair every morning?
Forget your thoughts
While feeling my LOVE
By being in LOVE with me
Why the words become worthless
When we share
A common breathing between our lips?
Who is listening to the music
Of our heart-beats?
Why do roses rain over us
When we share our chromosomes?
Who are they?
There, below the waterfalls
Behind the mountain caves
The two magical unicorns in LOVE?
Who will pray "TEFILLAH"
When we are in
Ultimate union of LOVE?
Who will "TENEBRAE" our lives
To illuminate our souls?
So that we "THEOPHANY" the
LOVE deity of ONENESS
Now tell me...
Will the clouds answer our LOVE-call?
Will the first ray of sun ever find us?
Will the moon ever illuminate dark lives?
Will the stars sparkle over our springs?
Will the dew drop give birth to seedlings?
To save the cosmos & planet EARTH
Let us embrace into
Single semantic of LOVE
*
Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 12:04 AM UTC
He stands beside me,
In awe of the sight before thee.
His hand has mine.
We both look at each other.
Nothing can be told from his eyes.
The eyes of Ashure haze.
"Do not be afraid..
We are home."
The sound of rushing water,
Crashing into its ever blue.
The beauty of the growth around it.
I call it home.
This was the place,
Where the wolves shall be born.
Creation of a pack.
Has just begun.
Werewolves alive.
Waterfalls of Beauty.
A family.
For eternity.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 9:44 AM UTC
A black crow's darting eyes
spans the wheat field
and an orange pumpkin patch.
She sees
tall grasses of brown
seedlings,
bristling in the wind,
soon to be bushels of grain
and a pumpkin pie that she never savored.
She sits, atop her tree perch,
at times warm and storybook,
hidden by tree branches,
and at times out of harm's way
and infamy.
Her friends, the sun, and clouds in concert,
dancing along.
Her other friends bring alms and smiles.
Life is so good at times.
Down the road sits a mill
next to a waterfall
and a cabin,
with reindeer horns
hanging above the doorway.
She is in her element, happy,
carrying for her nestlings.
Back and forth her parental eyes dart
the hilly fields, a smoked filled chimney, and her babies,
all crawling with sustenance and awe.
Storybook.
A mother feeding a worm to her baby.
Storybook.
Off to her side is not a blind eye
watching her,
scary stick figures of
straw tucked under red shirts and hats,
with a tied tinfoil strips dotting
her eyes and tease.
Scarecrows, cease.
At times life is good nature, hand in hand,
knock on wood.
If only life could be circumspect.
Than darkness filling the light
and a stutter of life.
For a sad page is turned,
pause
... tears.
Then, feathers fall.
Hers.
The sound of a thud.
Silence and tears of her friend's swelling.
A baby's cry, missing her mother.
More orphaned tears.
Who would be this despicable?
On that rogue day.
A kick of a donkey,
an ***
one bad rock on her path,
breaks the air,
as three little elementary kids were walking along
to school.
One, me, with a rock in his hand,
taking aim at her perch
and the death of the black crow's pages.
I confess.
... Bless me, Father, for I have sinned
it has been fifty years since
my last confession ...
a Tom Sawyer-like childhood gone worse.
I repent.
Some fifty years later I think of those first cairns,
including stealing the reindeer horns and milling
my brother and sister's storybook.
Waterfalls
stream tears, and a sorry boat
rowed downstream
sadly
thereafter.
Logan Robertson
7/25/2018
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 6:02 PM UTC
We all paint our lives.
The mountains of challenges,
The rivers of tears,
The waterfalls of joy.
We mix the colours of sorrow and laughter
And add the colours of experience and the years that passed.
The souls we will always remember
And the moments we will never forget.
Jan 16, 2017
Jan 16, 2017 at 12:21 AM UTC
I still remember you
I lost you because non-commitment was all I could give.
Now I wake with my sheets soaked with the residue from my nightmares, suffocating me.
I long for those days when the sun was setting and hand in hand we'd sit, in silence.
You'd pull me closer to share your excitement with me; grab a fist full of my hair to allow you to enter into matrimony with my lips.
I long to have your presence next to me; to see the rise and fall of your chest reminding me that that is where my home is.
To have you wake me in the morning with your arms protectively caressing me, rhythmically and suggestively moving along my body...
To have you send shivers down my spine with your hot breath as I feel you smile into my neck
I remember your lips became the metaphor for our young hasty affair:
your lips often grazing every crevice on my body, arousing feelings in me I never thought existed and exciting this dormant precious place between my thighs.
My thighs, which are now the empty hallways you used to roam with so much passion and ferocity used to release waterfalls that cascaded down in a pleasurable release,
long for one more body trembling exhilarating encounter.
But most of all I long to be loved again.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 3:34 PM UTC
The blue Arabian sea, the towering Western Ghats
This then is Kerala the most beautiful Indian state
Lush green hill stations, lowland paddy fields
All are in Kerala between the mountains and the sea
Fourty four rivers flow so water here for all
Exotic plants in abundance beside the waterfalls
Enchanting emerald back waters put here for your delight
The days are never long enough to view each wonderous site
Kerala is called gods own country, the reasons very clear
Wildlife abounds, exotic birds and sika deer
Here you will live longer than in any other state
Fresh food in abundance and low mortality rate
Why don't you come and visit this paradise on earth
And take away the memories that you will always cherish
Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 3:22 PM UTC
The Ocean is her home,
But she wishes to venture places Unknown,
Above her world, The Surface world
Bottom feeders have left her post modem bored,
She is convinced to Pursue "New",
Can you blame her for chasing Waterfalls,
Instead of sticking to the rivers that she is use to,
She fiends to be Free,
From the shackles of conformity
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 2:10 PM UTC
Fed by waterfalls
fast and muddy from the rain
Calfkiller River
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 8:38 PM UTC
And when the time comes my tears won't be falling like rain for it will be warm tea and fresh honey streaming down my cheeks.
I hope one day I will bathe in sunflowers and new love - I'm tired of the dead leaves that burden my body, they soak in like fresh coconut on my skin.
I sit underwater where time stops for a second, and I am at peace. I hope one day I can run into rushing waterfalls without begging for that moment of altered reality. I hope one day I bathe in roses instead of my sorrows.
Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 11:10 PM UTC
Bipolar is not just
swinging madly across a spectrum
of deep blue to fiery orange without
being stained by the indigos and greens, yellows and reds in between.
Bipolar is not just
a season blessed and a season cursed
on a cycle of happen, rinse, repeat.
bipolar is not just
Loud uncontrollable chatter
laughter that bounces off the insides of your head
Or
earthshattering sobs that give way to
teardrops that are waterfalls.
bipolar is not just
wanting to rove our hands over the
planes and curves of
every body we happen to find ****
bipolar is not just
an amalgamation of wounds
in various stages of healing
each with an ugly story to tell.
Bipolar is just
so
hard
to deal
with,
(sometimes).
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 11:38 AM UTC
I was with the ocean last night and your body
Was its vessel, overflowing. Words were frail,
Drops indwelling about the shapeless sky,
Water reaching for its own height and breath,
Like touch, were as desperate letters exchanged,
Endlessly read, until like loamy vellums, they
Disappeared in our hands. Inklings of tide-
Pool and driftwood.
My blood was a river that ran
Its course. Members feeding your deltas and birds
Breeding where the water-russet sheds on pampas
And inverness. Eyes like wing through ever—
Green, empties the fossil shell. Fire, brimming
Mountaintops that were, for countless millennia,
Sleeping. Did I mention that the earth moved?
No? Her displacement was involuntary.
Then came the waterfalls, lifting throughout
Time. The scent, searching for its identity,
The wave, calling to its own name— Ocean,
O— cean. And flowers, opening like galaxies
In the after-light. A universe of face and hand
With hunger for salt-rain and then the cloud
Burst-blue and spilt and spun more redolent,
Deities, in joyous creation.
I breathe, in your ocean, like a child unborn.
Jul 3, 2012
Jul 3, 2012 at 7:30 PM UTC
We were promised
Glitz and glam
Love and security
Never the beating down
Of our own
Never the feeling
Of an unlovable soul
Waterfalls into the night
We all know something ain't right
The nonsensical millennial
Smokes into the night
The harder we work
The harder we fall to our dying depths
And you wonder why
We haven't slept yet
We were promised
And now we are ****** off
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC
My eyes waterfall as I watch you walk away,
And my cheekbones form a river as you drift away,
My lips earthquake and tremble as you fall through the cracks,
My hands are vines; grasping; my skin starts to crack,
As I watch you walk away my eyes waterfall,
As you drift away the river breaks and waterfalls.
Aug 31, 2012
Aug 31, 2012 at 7:33 PM UTC
With a body wrapped in a crimson dress, she bears a violent temper.
Shining daylight, raging bewitching, captivating cunning.
You arrive with starry eyes and cheeks flushed like a ******
In her curly hair, autumn curtains hang—roaming rays hot.
She glows in the night like a pictorial wall with hieroglyphics concealing madness.
You step elegantly, but you're a dangerously stealthy predator.
Grassy hills in floating flames burn beneath a voluminous haze.
Her look describes fabulous waterfalls, endlessly flowing and shining in the coming dawn. You associate with robbers and kings, but they do not understand, and no one will save you.
Lovely eyes sprinkle enchanting rays, her lips intertwined like a rose petal.
Her heart enticingly calls with her fruit to be drunk.
You hide in the nightlife, dress up, and do your love magic.
Neck fashioned in autumnal garments, wearing scarlet ruby earrings.
Her pink skin smells of perfume, inviting like a grape on a vine.
You invite visitors with your charm to carelessness, forever forced.
Her lips are flowing bewitching rivers—intersecting strokes of crimson. They bring a dream to taste her deep soils and her artfully carved forms.
You are determined to captivate without marrying— you stay lost in rebellion.
Sep 25, 2023
Sep 25, 2023 at 6:19 AM UTC
I am a mother, a wife
A friend, a teacher
I seek happiness
I love deep
Only souls not faces
Always loyal
I don't judge
I love to help
I see good in everyone
Which makes me naive at times
I am open to all
Hoping for a world
Where everyone fits
Labels don't exist
I latch to rules
Anxiety demands
I suffer from OCD
Always chasing order
Shackled by disinfection
I am comfortable in control
Leading the way
I seek to inspire
I believe in others
I am honest with my feelings
I value experience
And learn from them
I reflect on my day
Always trying to improve
I search for meaning in conversations
Enjoy learning new things daily
I play sports
Love music
Enjoy Art
Express myself in writes
Fascinated by abstracts
Reading words to gain insight
The grace in movement
The beauty in visual artistry
I love to re-discover nature
The acoustics of birds
Waterfalls and rain
Kissing falling snow
Connecting with our majestic sky
I love the stillness
Each morning brings
The dew sleeping in the emerald
The lacquered canvas
Of quiet lakes
Motionless
In something so vast
Yoga is my philosophy
A healthy
Body
Mind
And spirit
My destination is
The pursuit of enlightenment
In my life's pain
I am coming out of the spiral
Enjoying my journey
Seeing straight
Swimming the unalome
I feed my soul
Hoping IT can lead me
Leaving my ego in my wake
I remain unfinished
I continue to wear masks
Sometimes to hide
As I fear rejection
Still..
As happy as I seem
As lovely as I am
My soul has a shadow
Hidden inside
My essence traced
By shaded light
I am a survivor
Broken in places
Finally accepting my true self
Jl 2016
Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 6:16 PM UTC
-Hello Love-
Perhaps it’s been a thousand years,
the rivers have shifted so,
the lakes I swam in, have gone dry
the waterfalls though, overflow.
And so it is, that I have wandered back
tugged furiously throughout days
by this rugged tinkling thread
back to this ancient maze.
Most surely it’s been several weeks
the leaves are rough to touch,
the grass withers where I step
but trees don’t ask for much.
And so it is, that I have rambled on
pulled strangely through the haze,
at last I fall under the rays of morn,
My love, I’m home again.
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 8:47 AM UTC
i just want my eyes to be
eternal waterfalls
that wash your feet
when you've been
away
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 11:47 PM UTC
Nature is everything that wasn’t created by man,
It cannot be controlled by anyone.
I admire the beautiful trees that sway from left to right,
And the delightful blue sea that is filled with marine life.
I admire waking up every day to an amazing sunrise,
And going to bed to a charming sunset.
I admire being a part of a world so bright,
But wait,
I can’t forget about the night, the moon, and the stars that are ever so bright.
I admire the cool breeze giving me goosebumps.
I admire the gentle flowing of rivers and waterfalls that makes me meditate,
It reminds me to never build feelings such as hate.
I admire how nature takes care of itself and mankind,
I surely cannot tell nature it has its time.
Nature is everything that wasn’t created by man,
It cannot be controlled by anyone.
I admire that nature is always going to be there,
And because of that,
I admire the fact that nature truly do care.
Sade Rowland
Apr 2, 2020
Apr 2, 2020 at 12:49 PM UTC
*Dewdrops shining in the sun
On the sweet hibiscus blooms
Sweet orchids open their satin petals
To greet the sweetly shining sun
Against the royal blue sky
With pink cotton candy clouds
Floating across the pretty sky
Like a slow dream or illusion
Too good to be true
Winding meadows and roaring waterfalls
Make sweet pictures of landscape
Mountains high and ravines sharp
With huge boulders
Paths rocky and steep
Such a lovely place*
~Marian~
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 8:58 PM UTC
yahoo
its a road trip
she did the chicken head dance
hips swayed
like an evangelist of the lascivious
slicky, sticky, dicky
happily sicky
deep throat swallow
flooding her gullet
with spits, spats and waterfalls
for 300 gooey miles
like a Deer at a salt lick
to horney to send picture post cards
and her mouth sparkled
a regurgitating anthem of love
and a billion solar immolations
in the great
howling milky way roadtrip
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 2:04 PM UTC
Gorgeous,
verdant,
with more waterfalls
than any other state
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 3:31 AM UTC