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Molecules of two elements, nitrogen and oxygen, comprise about 99 percent of the air. The remaining hoity toity 1% includes small amounts celestial seasoning luxurious riches as argon and carbon dioxide. (Other gases such as neon, helium, and methane are present in trace amounts.) Oxygen is the life-giving element in the air.

Earth's atmosphere is 78% nitrogen, 21% oxygen, 0.9% argon, and 0.03% carbon dioxide with very small percentages of other elements. Our atmosphere also contains water vapor. In addition, Earth's atmosphere contains traces of dust particles, pollen, plant grains and other solid particles.

Even when the air seems to be completely clear, it is full of atmospheric particles - invisible solid and semisolid bits of matter, including dust, smoke, pollen, spores, bacteria and viruses. Some atmospheric particles are so large that you will feel them if they strike you. However, particles this large rarely travel far before they fall to the ground. Finer particles may be carried many miles before settling during a lull in the wind, while still tinier specks may remain suspended in the air indefinitely. The finest particles are jostled this way and that by moving air molecules and drift with the slightest currents. Only rain and snow can wash them out of the atmosphere. These tiny particles are so small that scientists measure their dimensions in microns - a micron is about one 25-thousandth of an inch. They include pollen grains, whose diameters are sometimes less than 25 microns; bacteria, which range from about 2 to 30 microns across; individual virus particles, measuring a very small fraction of a micron; and carbon smoke particles, which may be as tiny as two hundredths of a micron.

Particles are frequently found in concentrations of more than a million per cubic inch of air. A human being's daily intake of air is about 450,000 cubic inches. This means that we inhale an astronomical numbers of foreign bodies. Particles larger than about 5 microns are generally filtered from the air in the nasal passages. Other large particles are caught by hairlike protuberances in the air passages leading to the lungs and are swept back toward the mouth. Most of the extremely fine particles that do reach the lungs are exhaled again - although some of this matter is deposited in the minute air sacs within the lungs. From these air sacs, particles may go into solution and pass through the lung walls into the bloodstream. If the material is toxic, harmful reactions may occur when it enters the blood. Fine particles retained in the lungs can cause permanent tissue damage, as with Coal workers' pneumoconiosis (black lung disease), caused by buildup of coal dust in the lungs, and with silicosis, which is caused by the buildup of silicon dust.

If the air is still, given sufficient time, all but the smallest airborne particles will settle to the ground under their own weight. Their rate of fall is closely proportional to particle size and density.
For example, vast amounts of fine volcanic ash were thrown into the air by the eruption of the Indonesian volcano Krakatoa, in 1883, and again by the Alaskan volcano Katmai, in 1912. In both instances, the finer dust reached the stratosphere and spread around the world high above the rains and storms that tend to cleanse the lower atmosphere. In fact, many years elapsed before these volcanic dusts entirely disappeared from the atmosphere. Since a two-micron dust particle may require about four years to fall 17 miles in the atmosphere, the lingering effect is not in the least surprising.
Dust storms are also prolific producers of airborne debris. Europe is sometimes showered with dust originating in the Sahara. In March 1901, for instance, an estimated total of two million tons of Sahara dust fell on North Africa and the Europe. Two years later, in February 1903, Britain received a deposit estimated at ten million tons. On many occasions, Sahara dust has fallen in muddy rain and reddish snow over much of southwestern Europe. During North America's droughts of the 1930s, dust storms blew ten million tons of dust at a time aloft in the heart of the continent. Occasionally, high winds swept the dust eastward 1800 miles to darken skies along the continent's Atlantic coast.

When the wind strikes the crest of an ocean wave, or a calm sea is agitated by rain or by air bubbles bursting at the surface, the finer droplets that enter the air quickly evaporate, leaving tiny salt crystals suspended in the air. Winds carry these salt crystals over all the Earth. Normally, airborne salt particles from the sea are less than a micron in diameter. It would take a million of them to weigh a pound.
Salt particles play an important part in weather processes because they are hygroscopic - they absorb water. Raindrops usually form around tiny particles that act as nuclei for condensation. Generally, each fog and cloud droplet also collects around a particle of some type at its center. Tiny crystals of sea salt make better condensation nuclei than other natural particles found in the air. Thus, salt particles in the air help make rain.

Dust from meteor showers may occasionally affect world rainfall. When the Earth encounters a swarm of meteors, those meteors that get to the upper reaches of the Earth's atmosphere are vaporized by heat from friction. The resulting debris is a fine smoke or powder. This fine dust then floats down into the cloud system of the lower atmosphere, where it can readily serve as nuclei around which ice crystals or raindrops can form. Increases in world rainfall come about a month after the Earth encounters meteor systems in space. The delay of a month allows sufficient time for the meteoric dust to fall through the upper atmosphere. Occasionally, large meteors leave visible trains of dust. Most often their trails disappear rapidly, but in a few witnessed cases a wake of dust has remained visible for an hour or so.
In one extreme instance-a great meteor that broke up in the sky over Siberia in 1908-the dust cloud traveled all the way around the world before it dissipated.

Large forest fires are among the more spectacular producers of foreign particles in the atmosphere.
Because these fires create violent updrafts, smoke particles are carried to great heights, and, being small, are spread over vast distances by high altitude winds. In the autumn of 1950, forest fires in Alberta, Canada produced smoke that drifted east over North America on the prevailing wind and crossed the North Atlantic, reaching Britain and continental Europe. The light-scattering properties of this dense smoke made the Sun look indigo and the Moon blue to observers in Scotland and other northern lands.

Wind-pollinated plants are the most prolific sources of foreign particles in the air. This is a problem for people with allergies.

Spores are closely related to pollens. Spores are the reproductive bodies of fungi, which include molds, yeasts, rusts, mildews, puffballs and mushrooms. Tiny spores are adrift everywhere in the air, even over the oceans. Although they resemble pollens in general appearance, spores are not fertilizing agents. Instead, they are like seeds, and give rise to new organisms wherever they take hold. Spores have been found as high as 14 miles in the air over the entire globe. Most fungi depend on the wind for spore dissemination. Once airborne, spores are carried easily by the slightest air currents.

Once, physicians were taught that infectious microorganisms quickly settle out of the air and die. Today, the droplets ejected, say, by a sneeze, are known to evaporate almost immediately, leaving whatever microorganisms they contain to drift through the air. Only a relatively small fraction of microorganism’s human beings breathe cause disease. In fact, most bacteria are actually helpful. Some, for example, convert atmospheric nitrogen into usable plant food. Pathogenic, or disease-producing, microorganisms, however, can be very dangerous. Most propagate by subdivision-each living cell splits into two cells. Each of the new cells then grows and divides again into two more cells. Provided with ideal conditions, populations multiply quickly. Fortunately microorganisms do not thrive very well in the air. Unless there is enough humidity in the air, many desiccate and die. Short exposure to the ultraviolet radiation of the Sun also kills most microorganisms. Low temperatures greatly decrease their activity, and elevated temperatures destroy them rapidly. Still, many microorganisms survive in the air, despite these hazards. Among the tiniest of airborne particles are viruses, which are on the borderline between living matter and lifeless chemical substances.

Earth is the only planet we know of that can support life. This is an amazing fact, considering that it is made out of the same matter as other planets in our solar system, was formed at the same time and through the same processes as every other planet, and gets its energy from the sun. To a universal traveler, Earth may seem to be a harmless little planet in the far reaches of one of billions of spiral galaxies in the universe. It has an average size star of average brightness and is joined by seven other planets — which support no known life forms — in its solar system. While this may be fitting for a passage from The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams, in the grand scheme of the universe, it would be a fairly accurate description. However, Earth is a planet teeming with vitality and is home to billions of plants and animals that share a common evolutionary track. How and why did we get here? What processes had to take place for this to happen? And where do we go from here? The fact is, no one has been able to come close to knowing exactly what led to the origins of life, and we may never know. After 5 billion years of Earth’s formation and evolution, the evidence may have been lost. But scientists have made significant progress in understanding what chemical processes that may have led to the origins of life. There are many theories, but most have the same general perspective of how things came to be the way they are. Following is an account of life’s beginnings based on some of the leading research and theories related to the subject, and of course, fossil records dating back as far as 3.5 billion years ago.

The solar system was created from gas clouds and dust that remained from the Sun's formation some 6-7 billion years ago. This material contained only about .2% of the solar system's mass with the Sun holding the rest. Earth began to form over 4.6 billion years ago from the same cloud of gas (mostly hydrogen and helium) and interstellar dust that formed our sun, the rest of the solar system and even our galaxy. In fact, Earth is still forming and cooling from the galactic implosion that created the other stars and planetary systems in our galaxy. This process began about 13.6 billion years ago when the Milky Way Galaxy began to form. As our solar system began to come together, the sun formed within a cloud of dust and gas that continued to shrink in upon itself by its own gravitational forces. This caused it to undergo the fusion process and give off light, heat and other radiation. During this process, the remaining clouds of gas and dust that surrounded the sun began to form into smaller lumps called planetesimals, which eventually formed into the planets we know today.

A large number of small objects, called planetesimals, began to form around the Sun early in the formation of the solar system. These objects were the building blocks for the planets that exist today. The Earth went through a period of catastrophic and intense formation during its earliest beginnings 4.6-4.4 billion years ago. By 3.8 to 4.1 billion years ago, Earth had become a planet with an atmosphere (not like our atmosphere today) and an ocean. This period of Earth’s formation is referred to as the Precambrian Period. The Precambrian is divided into three parts: the Hadean, Archean and Proterozoic Periods.

The Earth formed under so much heat and pressure that it formed as a molten planet. For nearly the first billion years of formation (4.5 to 3.8 billion years ago) — called the Hadean Period (or hellish period) — Earth was bombarded continuously by the remnants of the dust and debris — like asteroids, meteors and comets — until it formed into a solid sphere, pulled into orbit around the sun and began to cool down. Earth's early atmosphere most likely resembled that of Jupiter's atmosphere, which contains hydrogen, helium, methane and ammonia, and is poisonous to humans. (Photo: NASA, from Voyager 1). As Earth began to take solid form, it had no free oxygen in its atmosphere. It was so hot that the water droplets in its atmosphere could not settle to form surface water or ice. Its first atmosphere was also so poisonous, comprised of helium and hydrogen, that nothing would have been able to survive.
Earth’s second atmosphere was formed mostly from the outgassing of such volatile compounds as water vapor, carbon monoxide, methane, ammonia, nitrogen, carbon dioxide, nitrogen, hydrochloric acid and sulfur produced by the constant volcanic eruptions that besieged the Earth. It had no free oxygen. About 4.1 billion years ago, the Earth’s surface — or crust — began to cool and stabilize, creating the solid surface with its rocky terrain. Clouds formed as the Earth began to cool, producing enormous volumes of rainwater that formed the oceans. For the next 1.3 billion years (3.8 to 2.5 billion years ago), the Archean Period, first life began to appear and the world’s land masses began to form. Earth’s initial life forms were bacteria, which could survive in the highly toxic atmosphere that existed during this time. Toward the end of the Archean Period and at the beginning of the Proterozoic Period, about 2.5 billion years ago, oxygen-forming photosynthesis began to occur. The first fossils were a type of blue-green algae that could photosynthesize.

Earth's atmosphere was first supplied by the gasses expelled from the massive volcanic eruptions of the Hadean Era. These gases were so poisonous, and the world was so hot, that nothing could survive. As the planet began to cool, its surface solidified as a rocky terrain, much like Mars' surface (center photo) and the oceans began to form as the water vapor condensed into rain. First life came from the oceans. Some of the most exciting events in Earth’s history and life occurred during this time, which spanned about two billion years until about 550 million years ago. The continents began to form and stabilize, creating the supercontinent Rodinia about 1.2 billion years ago. Although Rodinia is composed of some of the same land fragments as the more popular supercontinent, Pangea, they are two different supercontinents. Pangea formed some 225 million years ago and would evolve into the seven continents we know today. Free oxygen began to build up around the middle of the Proterozoic Period — around 1.8 billion years ago — and made way for the emergence of life as we know it today. This increased oxygen created conditions that would not allow most of the existing life to survive and thus made way for the more oxygen-dependent life forms. By the end of the Proterozoic Period, Earth was well along in its evolutionary processes leading to our current period, the Holocene Period,  or Anthropocene Period, also known as the Age of Man. Thus, about 525 million years ago, the Cambrian Period began. During this period, life “exploded,” developing almost all of the major groups of plants and animals in a relatively short time. It ended with the massive extinction of most of the existing species about 500 million years ago, making room for the future appearance and evolution of new plant and animal species. About 498 million years later — 2.2 million years ago — the first modern human species emerged.

Did You Know? The first modern human being was called **** habilis, the first of the **** genus. This species developed stone tools for use in daily life. **** habilis means “Handy Man.” He existed from about 2.2 to 1.5 million years ago. There are earlier species related to modern man, called hominids. The images show the skull shape and probable appearance of **** habilis.

The PreCambrian Period — accounts for about 90 percent of Earth’s history. It lasted for about four billion years until about 550 million years ago. About 70 percent of the world’s land masses were created in the Archean Era, between 3.8 and 2.5 million years ago. Rodinia, widely recognized as the first supercontinent, formed during the Proterozoic Era, about 2.5 billion years ago. It is believed that the oldest human family member was discovered in Ethiopia and lived 4.4 million years ago. It was named “Ardi,” short for Ardipithecus ramidus.
Michael Siebert Jan 2013
Last week
I caught six fireflies in a jar
I put them in the microwave,
where they were promptly set ablaze,
and I said,
as they whirled around in the dead air,
“I guess fire flies.”
I’ve been waiting for the world to end since the day I was born.
When pressed for comment,
I respond by pushing the microphone
from my face
and abruptly ending
the interview.
I was told there were rules,
but I was also told I could be anything
I wanted to be,
and so far that hasn’t worked out for me.
I take 20 mg of fluoxetine every day
and six weeks later I can dream again.
Girl, it turns out I do have faith in medicine.
So tonight I’ll go to bed,
and tomorrow I’ll wake up
in another city
that I don’t want to be in,
and I’ll say,
“Resolved:
On balance,
I am a man of
chemicals and reactions,
of positives and negatives,
and while I may not know
where the **** I am headed,
it is certain that I will
end up there.”
Bob B Oct 2016
As she danced before Herod and Herodias,
Salome waved her flowing veil,
Which fluttered and whirled through the air around her
And rippled like a silken sail.

"Ah, your daughter dances divinely,"
Said Herod to his calculating wife.
"She dances as though she's walking on air.
I've never seen so much grace in my life."

After a frenzied flurry and flash,
Salome stopped and bowed to the king.
"My dear," said Herod, "what may I give you?
Half of my kingdom? Anything!

"Tell me what your heart is set on.
I'll give you whatever you desire."
Salome looked at her mother, who
Smiled and nodded--her eyes on fire.

"Your incomparable kindness compels me
To answer simply to a king so great.
I ask for one thing only and that
Is John the Baptist's head on a plate."

Said; done. The executioner
Soon returned carrying John's head,
Which Salome gave to her bloodthirsty mother,
Who was delighted that he was dead.

What about those who keep on dancing
Salome's dance? They pivot and swirl,
Contemplating how to placate
The wishes of others while they twirl?

Do they conspire to perpetrate
Division and discord--not unity and peace?
Have love and kindness and thoughtfulness
Given way to heartless caprice?

Are they moved by seductive wiles
As if compassion does not matter?
Do they seek above all things
Vengeance on a silver platter?

- by Bob B
Charlie Hazels May 2014
I think I thought I could save you
From yourself, from your troubles, from life.
And that maybe that would make you mine,
Help you to throw away the knife.
Forever.

I think I thought I would help you
Along self belief street.
But the daring darkness from your unconfidence
Is part of you, the one I loved to meet.
At first.

I think I realised I loved you
When I didn't care about your flaws.
I met all of you and cared for you,
As we ran through double doors.
Together.

I think I realised I clicked with you,
When you loved the same things as I.
You showed me new, and I looked at you,
And my whole heart leapt high.
In the air.

I think I knew I could trust you
When I came out to you and you didn't spread it.
We larked about for days on end,
In my arms, so well you fit.
So close.

I think I knew your importance
When you whirled around in my head.
You were all I could think of throughout the day,
And all night as I lay in bed.
Daydreaming.
Fahredin Shehu Apr 2012
Black
Empty cans
No liquid evaporated
In the air full of pride
Polluted grains of soul
Lost their consistency
Pure fluids of light
Erupts as marshmallow bombs
Death squad penetrates deeply
Aiming to meet Anubis
A Tsunami whirled its wish
Passion and glutton declared independence
The dream of becoming a parallel nation
To co-habit with leukemia of creativity
A *** drive 4×4 retired
A crippled veteran of passion
Bags for the mercy of soulless utilitarian army of human entity
Better said plankton a ****-plankton of miserable creatures
Even worms and larva are disgusted by our hatred
*****, a skunk of fear
An eclipse of love that spans for ages
From birth to death
A spectrum displays its ripeness
******* liberty as blast
A dazzling dance of shaped and amoeboid forms of manifestation
Truth
Bitter the honey with suffer
Powder a chamomile with royal jelly and ginseng
All of sudden a wind blows
Spores of the old pines
White
The soul of parallel nation of Angeloid
Is striving pleasure of life?
Lives now
Perpetually woofs a rainbow muslin with
the divine light
Inter-woofed dress
Newborn immaculate fellows
Perfuming
Oh those smell of paradise
Mint, Neroli, Oakmoss, Amber
A bouquet of divine pleasure
And Acacia kissed by a queen bee
Yes the queen of Enneagram
Of course
The work produces sweet essences
Oh Sarmouni of our Millennia
Melt the cataract-ic lance so they may see the beauty
Heal the flu so they may smell fresh ozone
A charged circle of light and love
Overwhelm
Remove the pulp from the reed
So may divine tune perform light?
Tao
May be your torchbearer
In the dark valley and by then you may
see a spectrum
That encircles an infant fear
For an eternal life
Yet I kiss that that time sequence
Where Jin and Jang harmoniously co-habit
I a Feng Shui of Love
Defragmenter of hate’s files
Zipper of dark matrixes
Arranger
So you may know they do exists
So you try them in order to enjoy the sweetness
of life’s honey
In this porcelain valley
Where goodness and mischief
Hand in hand are gliding furiously
Alas pure the morning with dew of love
Oxidize hate with apple vinegar
Sing to celebrate both solstices and have a cup of vine
That swoon you
That filters all starry
Cells of brain and ganglia
Perfume her navel with rosewater and kiss, kiss, kiss
Do a divine Tantra
With all visible and invisible and semi-visible spirits
Kiss topaz of her eyes
Kiss ruby of her heart
Kiss diamond of her nail
Kiss cooper of her feet ankle
Kiss jade of her bones
Kiss sapphire of her cells
And a flame-y waterfall of hair
And a silky *****…
Oh…kiss and kiss and kiss whatever belongs to her
Make her a necklace
With your purest and noblest spermatozoids
Then call her as you wish
Wisdom, Hikkmah, Sophia
Or simply Goddess that makes you Angeloid.
—-
Arabic for wisdom, we disregard language we are concentrated
on substance on quint essence
Greek for wisdom
Torrent of light and river of the air,
Along whose bed the glimmering stars are seen
Like gold and silver sands in some ravine
Where mountain streams have left their channels bare!
The Spaniard sees in thee the pathway, where
His patron saint descended in the sheen
Of his celestial armor, on serene
and quiet nights, when all the heavens were fair.
Not this I see, nor yet the ancient fable
Of Phaeton’s wild course, that scorched the skies
Where’er the hoofs of his hot coursers trod;
But the white drift of worlds o’er chasms of sable,
The star-dust, that is whirled aloft and flies
From the invisible chariot-wheels of God.
Lyz Elysian Oct 2013
Honestly,
I hurt myself today.
Just to make sure it was all okay.
Just to feel in some sort of way.
Just to watch myself decay.
I hurt myself today.

I broke,
I lost.
Overwhelmed with exhaust.
To get me back at any cost.
From day to day, whirled and tossed.
I can't believe I broke,
I lost.

Honestly,
I hurt myself again.
I didn't think my will was this paper thin.
To take the razor and cut the skin.
I didn't mean to hurt myself again.

Honestly,
I guess that's just the price you pay.
To let it take the pain away.
To let it make your thoughts astray.
That's just the price you pay.
To know you're gonna hurt yourself today...
¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯
i found
her alone
seated amid
sumptuous shelter
crafted of a most clement
terracotta watching
as those chaotic
worldspun towers
whirled around, piercing
through vehement welkin
then stretching down
to ground level.
they went
weaving through the coils
of an ethereal copper jungle
and gifting her skin
with bruises
as they
fled—
each one,
the sputum
of a septic recess
that was ceaseless
in its diction
of ruses
in her
head.
some
people
called her
the dark passenger,
yet she talked herself idyllic
using only stolen words.
only
twenty
years old
?
what a mess!
several life events
had her under
duress
that augural
September day.
she was depressed
yet she was
pressing
answers
from the void
beneath the drop—
a top-to-bottom
nonsensical
blessing;
funneling logic
behind such curtains
had her stressing out daily.
she grew arrogant and twisted
with the shifting of seasons;
she grew humbled
and wary
for the worst
of reasons.
her life
had become
a shell in every sense,
but it made sense
in the utmost
of naïve and
senseless
respects
...
then
I opened
my mouth
to speak
again.


∘ ⊱‧⌍⌈✞⌋⌌‧⊰ ∞
﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋
Valsa George Jul 2021
You
as a soft breeze,
a hushed whisper,
a cool mist,
you came quietly
and slipped
into my thoughts

I skimmed through the sunlit
alley of a dream world
and whirled in an uneasy sensuality.

now
the embryo of love
in me
has matured into a full grown fetus
kicking at the crust of my womb
giving
the tremor
of a
forbidden
E
     C
S
      T
A
       S
Y
Katelyn Hill May 2012
Sparkling silver an dazzling diamonds,
An engagement ring hung on a chain.
Resting on her heart,
Just like him.

High School sweethearts,
Together til the end.
He loved her,
And she loved him.

The madness whirled around them,
But together they were strong.
They jumped past every hurdle,
Til the last one won.

A graduation party gone wrong,
He had too much to drink.
Passed out on the couch,
Never to be heard from again.

When she got the news,
A broken sob escaped.
He was her one and only,
She belonged to him.

His parents gave her a box,
and it she found the ring.
She swore to wear it forever,
And to never forget him.
Jordan Jun 2013
she had the eyes of a gypsey and a heart like a maze. slow danced we did through the bars smokey haze. twirled and whirled atop the dance floors creaky boards. Leaning in she whispered, eternity's forever but it's never felt so close.

She felt closer than epiphany, bigger than the galaxy, she was alive, and so was I. We kissed; We exploded, we imploded, we were one, we were everything.
We fell apart, we came back together, it was eternity...eternity in a moment.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5pw8BNPn6U
Cailey Weaver Feb 2013
I stepped out on the stage and the audience gave a cry.
I admit I almost stopped because I am a little shy.
I twirled and whirled and danced and then I came down with a crash!
My mother called an ambulance and it came in a dash.


My dance teacher came to visit me in the hospital
There was my Mom, my Brother Greg and my Principal.
My dance instructor sighed when she heard the news from Greg.
“I just followed her advice. She told me ‘Break a leg’!
Sungmoo Bae Aug 2020
The pleasure is all mine

when I see a nickel on the sidewalk
while on my way to the bus-stop
nearby,

and when I,
the fast traveller,
see a piece of weathered poster
whirled up in the wind

and then laid there
on the roadside forgotten,
yet still retaining
its hue vivid

—the colors are still lively at the least,
nevertheless.
    My heart grows into full vivacity
    when I see such serendipity so small,

glowing in brilliance yet so lucid,
in a manner ever graceful
—no matter how tiny that is—    
from the bottom of my heart
    
    —I'm being accepted
    into thy blissfulness, which may hold
    the wonders of the world
    ever imaginable.
(C) Copyright: Saul Bae (Sungmoo Bae)
"But, sir," I said, "they tell me the man is like to die!" The Canon shook his head indulgently. "Young blood, Cousin," he boomed. "Young blood! Youth will be served!"
-- D'Hermonville's Fabliaux.


He woke up with a sick taste in his mouth
And lay there heavily, while dancing motes
Whirled through his brain in endless, rippling streams,
And a grey mist weighed down upon his eyes
So that they could not open fully. Yet
After some time his blurred mind stumbled back
To its last ragged memory -- a room;
Air foul with wine; a shouting, reeling crowd
Of friends who dragged him, dazed and blind with drink
Out to the street; a crazy rout of cabs;
The steady mutter of his neighbor's voice,
Mumbling out dull obscenity by rote;
And then . . . well, they had brought him home it seemed,
Since he awoke in bed -- oh, **** the business!
He had not wanted it -- the silly jokes,
"One last, great night of freedom ere you're married!"
"You'll get no fun then!" "H-ssh, don't tell that story!
He'll have a wife soon!" -- God! the sitting down
To drink till you were sodden! . . .
Like great light
She came into his thoughts. That was the worst.
To wallow in the mud like this because
His friends were fools. . . . He was not fit to touch,
To see, oh far, far off, that silver place
Where God stood manifest to man in her. . . .
Fouling himself. . . . One thing he brought to her,
At least. He had been clean; had taken it
A kind of point of honor from the first . . .
Others might do it . . . but he didn't care
For those things. . . .
Suddenly his vision cleared.
And something seemed to grow within his mind. . . .
Something was wrong -- the color of the wall --
The queer shape of the bedposts -- everything
Was changed, somehow . . . his room. Was this his room?

. . . He turned his head -- and saw beside him there
The sagging body's *****, the paint-smeared face,
And the loose, open mouth, lax and awry,
The *******, the bleached and brittle hair . . . these things.
. . . As if all Hell were crushed to one bright line
Of lightning for a moment. Then he sank,
Prone beneath an intolerable weight.
And bitter loathing crept up all his limbs.
Siya Mulge Jul 2020
As I travel back to my younger days,
I remember my occluded mind.
The doings of neighbourhood and community,

Being taught always,
Darkness is sorrow,
White light is where
Peace and beauty you'll find...

That black shirt  needs no washing,
As you cannot see its furrow,
White ones should be cared...

Hide yourselves with a black cloth,
Show yourself off to the world
With an angel ring that's white....

My heart is about to rot,
My mind with agony was already whirled,
I shall now began to fight,
For my skin Is dark,
But is brighter than your soul...
Black lives matter
David R Aug 2022
beautifully posed
as dancer rare
as angel composed
was the apple in the air

of rose and of yellow
the aura on its cheek
of luster that was mellow
with self-centered pique

as it twirled a pirouette
whirled wheel-roulette
aware of self 'n none other,
unaware of tree mother

unaware of outspread
the tree's branches overhead
giving all it has to give
its roots that let our apple live

for the apple cannot see
for eyes it has but none
till the day it is set free
to renew cycle begun

then will it learn of hidden power
as from small grows highest tower
then will it know what it means to set free
its fruit to live their destiny

as each new apple breaks away
breaks yet another heartstring
as tree tries best to look away
as 'nother fruit takes wing
BLT's Merriam-Webster Word of The Day Challenge
#heartstring
The body lay in a mound of hay
That was all piled up by the forge,
He took one look at the butcher’s hook
And the sick rose up in his gorge,
He peered on down at the bloodied face
There was nothing that could be done,
But held his breath when he saw that death
Had taken the blacksmith’s son.

He looked around for a sign of life
But the shop and the forge were cold,
The blacksmith Kirk hadn’t come to work
Though he’d seen him, out in the fold,
And darling Kate would be calling in,
His fate whirled round in his head,
What would she think when she found him there
With the love of her life stone dead?

The villagers knew no love was lost,
They’d fought at the village fete,
All over the hand of the pretty one,
The hand of their darling Kate,
But George was on an apprenticeship
For his father had owned the forge,
While Faber was a farm labourer,
So Kate had gone off with George.

But now George lay in a pile of hay
And he wouldn’t be dating Kate,
So Faber thought that he shouldn’t stay
Though he’d left it a little late.
He didn’t know if they’d seen him come,
He couldn’t be seen to go,
They’d think that he was the only one
To deliver the killer blow.

He heard a rustle within the store
And the sweat broke out on his head,
He knew if somebody found him there
That he’d be better off dead.
He peered silently through the door
And into the corner gloom,
And Kate was sobbing, there on the floor
In the darkest part of the room.

Her bouffant hair was a tangled mess
Her dress was tattered and frayed,
It didn’t take but a single guess
To see the part that she’d played,
For blood was mingling with her tears
Her bodice was stained deep red,
‘He stole my innocence,’ she exclaimed,
‘I hit him just once,’ she said.

Now Faber sits in a darkened cell
To wait for the hangman’s rope,
The Judge had asked, but he wouldn’t tell
So now he’s bereft of hope.
He’d told the court that he’d stumbled in
On the blacksmith’s son, and ****,
And hit him once with a butcher’s hook
For the sake of the darling Kate.

But Kate was strolling with someone new
On the day that they pinned his hands,
And led him up to the gallows floor
To pay for the court’s demands,
She never gave him a thought that day
Though the blacksmith thought he knew,
And lay in wait with a butcher’s hook
As Kate was passing through.

David Lewis Paget
Someguy Mar 2021
I want to see you soar;

Hear your heart beating wing-strokes
Thrashing morning sky
In whirled ascent;

Glimpse the joy of outstretched wings
Catching rising winds
In weightless orbit;

Lose sight of you
In the light of the sun
And wonder

Whether you'll come back to me.

I want to see you free.
JAM Feb 2016
RECORD: FRONTIER PSYCHIATRIST?
FROGMAN: THE AVALANCHES

{. . There was a thrilled, tarried cry from behind him,
and hEarths suddenly threw themselves open.
Stings lunged. The fear was sprung.
Brads in Gjeanes and Brads in mismatched souipts.
Janets in cracks and in Jaded info attire.
Even little wild stings, tagging after their origins.
And in every mind there was a chunk of Ruler or a Toe.

Brad's and Janet's: THRILL THE INGKTROFSPLECTOR!

[ . You do not hear with your mouth.
She who hears with his mouth has forgotten the cage of her self.
You hear with your ears. .]

His reaction was automatic,
instantaneous,
Instinct.
He whirled on his heels
while his hands pulled the Colt Number 5's from their hoearlsters,
their conclusions heavy and sure in his hands.

It was Suzy,
and of course it had to be Suzy,
coming at him with her case imported.
mirroring like a fellish clown in the lowering light...
Brad peered over her shoulder like a Tackman's familiar.

"Thrill me, Johnny, Thrill me! I Heard The Word,
Ninetbeen, I heard,
and they stung me…
I can't bear it!”

The Instruments beat theire heavy,
Comic-tonal music onto the air.
Her hears flapped and she cragged
and the instruments laughed again.

The last impression on her face might've been of freedom.

Brad's and Janet's mind snapped back.
They throth fell into the data.

[ . . You do not think with your ears.
  He who thinks with her ears has forgotten the cage of his self.
  You think with your mind. .]

They've gone to the land of Ninetbeen,
he thought.
When-ever is there.

BRACHE RECORD: FOURTH-TIER PSYCHONAUTIST
The Letter-Ing: fourth-tier psychonautist
Nineteenth or last
in a series of poems made of quotes
one part to a whole joke
its sum has yet to be totaled
may be more than its parts
subject to change
Seán Mac Falls Oct 2013
A leaf, delicate and torn,
Wafts in the caul of autumn
Like a whisper in a blooming
Crowd and only the smoking
Sun knows the ***** of dreams.
Where in the whirled is wisdom,
As a breath so fairly as the fallen
Wakes without wake nor wonder?
Where in the fork of fawn, innocent
Fold, the gentle does, of the burning
Forest, is silence mute?  Where is a light,
In that hold, what rising colour is buried in
The frozen gleam of the golden and forgotten
Seam and swoon of sweet ephemeral summer?
Kerri Mar 2015
I saved up all my butterflies
and put them in a jar.
Soft and steady searching.
No aggression.
Only a girl aware of the flutters that whirled by.
With one cupped hand I fill my jar.
Sealing the top to prevent majestic escape,
but giving air, and the capability to flit.
One glorious day, I willingly hand you my jar.
Gentle release.
Butterflies float.
Butterflies fly.
A plethora of colors swirling in the atmosphere.
A new world.
A new start.
Intoxicating beauty.
Time.
Distance.
Rainbow fading fast.
Melting into the promise of night.
Dark.
Cold.
Empty jar.
Alone.
The jar is shattered.
Jagged shards sparkle in the dirt.
The remains of hope and patience.
New jar. Fill it up. Suffocated beauty.
Goodbye trust.
I'm left with an eternal jar of carcasses.
This is obviously a figurative poem with the butterflies portraying love and ultimately trust.
Valsa George Nov 2016
Spring dawned after the biting chill,
Beams of sunlight filtered down,
Flakes of snow melted away,
The Earth bathed in brilliant glow

He came,

The dainty Darling of our dreams!
With promises full and hopes in store,
To fill the void,
within our souls.
To burst the silence,
with the clatter of sounds
To dispel the gloom,
that hovered on

He came,

High from Heaven,
like a cherubim sent,
with the glow of umpteen candles lit,

He came,

To gladden our doleful hearts,
To deliver us of our blighted state

He came,

Like the first rain on parched ground,
To drench the arid lands in profuse shower,
To ease the ***** of sweltering heat,
To put out the fire of growing drought

Marveling over the seizure of treasure,
long hidden within the crevices dark,
We stood, so pleasantly taken aback,
over the gift, ere vouched, but long delayed.

Like an eagle in its aerial route,
flew my spirits in ecstatic rounds
Like the Swallow, soaring high above,
my fancy took wings and set to fly.

He lay close to me, the bundle of joy!
His dark little eyes poised on my face,
full with words on silent lips,
and innocence on his glistening visage

I peered into that cute little face,
the face I had long fondled in my dreams,
I whirled in the feel of prime feed,
and swam in the current of maternal bliss!
It was after long 12 years of waiting and after intensive treatment for acute endometriosis, that our first son was born to us at a time when we had given up all hopes. Our joy knew no bounds. Now he is 26 and pursuing a successful career in Law! After three years, my second son also was born. I believe they are gifts from God and I thank Him to have made the impossible possible! For us, a true deliverance!
Paul Celano Jun 2010
Sweet rain fills my senses
As I stand in a puddle of my emotion
A liquid barrier holds me inside
To stare down deep into my own mind
Only to think and have no commotion

Feet together like a glue
Each arm out to point at the world
To which direction I want to run
When my mind lets me wander
Then my body gets whirled

Why sit in the wetness of your thoughts
The blank stare you create in your head
It is time to spread your visions
Turn your puddle to an ocean
Let your source breath life and not be dead

Baby steps on your plain
Create a world with each soft step
Spread your illusion and your power
Raise your arms to the above
Create yourself filled with pep

You are only yourself
Something that no one can destroy
There is only a single you
And as yourself you bear a special gift
A complex brain you can deploy
©2005 Paul Celano
Cass was the youngest and most beautiful of 5 sisters. Cass was the most beautiful girl
in town. 1/2 Indian with a supple and strange body, a snake-like and fiery body with eyes
to go with it. Cass was fluid moving fire. She was like a spirit stuck into a form that
would not hold her. Her hair was black and long and silken and whirled about as did her
body. Her spirit was either very high or very low. There was no in between for Cass. Some
said she was crazy. The dull ones said that. The dull ones would never understand Cass. To
the men she was simply a *** machine and they didn't care whether she was crazy or not.
And Cass danced and flirted, kissed the men, but except for an instance or two, when it
came time to make it with Cass, Cass had somehow slipped away, eluded the men.
Her sisters accused her of misusing her beauty, of not using her mind enough, but Cass
had mind and spirit; she painted, she danced, she sang, she made things of clay, and when
people were hurt either in the spirit or the flesh, Cass felt a deep grieving for them.
Her mind was simply different; her mind was simply not practical. Her sisters were jealous
of her because she attracted their men, and they were angry because they felt she didn't
make the best use of them. She had a habit of being kind to the uglier ones; the so-called
handsome men revolted her- "No guts," she said, "no zap. They are riding on
their perfect little earlobes and well- shaped nostrils...all surface and no
insides..." She had a temper that came close to insanity, she had a temper that some
call insanity. Her father had died of alcohol and her mother had run off leaving the
girls alone. The girls went to a relative who placed them in a convent. The convent had
been an unhappy place, more for Cass than the sisters. The girls were jealous of Cass and
Cass fought most of them. She had razor marks all along her left arm from defending
herself in two fights. There was also a permanent scar along the left cheek but the scar
rather than lessening her beauty only seemed to highlight it. I met her at the West End
Bar several nights after her release from the convent. Being youngest, she was the last of
the sisters to be released. She simply came in and sat next to me. I was probably the
ugliest man in town and this might have had something to do with it.
"Drink?" I asked.
"Sure, why not?"
I don't suppose there was anything unusual in our conversation that night, it was
simply in the feeling Cass gave. She had chosen me and it was as simple as that. No
pressure. She liked her drinks and had a great number of them. She didn't seem quite of
age but they served he anyhow. Perhaps she had forged i.d., I don't know. Anyhow, each
time she came back from the restroom and sat down next to me, I did feel some pride. She
was not only the most beautiful woman in town but also one of the most beautiful I had
ever seen. I placed my arm about her waist and kissed her once.
"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked.
"Yes, of course, but there's something else... there's more than your
looks..."
"People are always accusing me of being pretty. Do you really think I'm
pretty?"
"Pretty isn't the word, it hardly does you fair."
Cass reached into her handbag. I thought she was reaching for her handkerchief. She
came out with a long hatpin. Before I could stop her she had run this long hatpin through
her nose, sideways, just above the nostrils. I felt disgust and horror. She looked at me
and laughed, "Now do you think me pretty? What do you think now, man?" I pulled
the hatpin out and held my handkerchief over the bleeding. Several people, including the
bartender, had seen the act. The bartender came down:
"Look," he said to Cass, "you act up again and you're out. We don't need
your dramatics here."
"Oh, *******, man!" she said.
"Better keep her straight," the bartender said to me.
"She'll be all right," I said.
"It's my nose, I can do what I want with my nose."
"No," I said, "it hurts me."
"You mean it hurts you when I stick a pin in my nose?"
"Yes, it does, I mean it."
"All right, I won't do it again. Cheer up."
She kissed me, rather grinning through the kiss and holding the handkerchief to her
nose. We left for my place at closing time. I had some beer and we sat there talking. It
was then that I got the perception of her as a person full of kindness and caring. She
gave herself away without knowing it. At the same time she would leap back into areas of
wildness and incoherence. Schitzi. A beautiful and spiritual schitzi. Perhaps some man,
something, would ruin her forever. I hoped that it wouldn't be me. We went to bed and
after I turned out the lights Cass asked me,
"When do you want it? Now or in the morning?"
"In the morning," I said and turned my back.
In the morning I got up and made a couple of coffees, brought her one in bed. She
laughed.
"You're the first man who has turned it down at night."
"It's o.k.," I said, "we needn't do it at all."
"No, wait, I want to now. Let me freshen up a bit."
Cass went into the bathroom. She came out shortly, looking quite wonderful, her long
black hair glistening, her eyes and lips glistening, her glistening... She displayed her
body calmly, as a good thing. She got under the sheet.
"Come on, lover man."
I got in. She kissed with abandon but without haste. I let my hands run over her body,
through her hair. I mounted. It was hot, and tight. I began to stroke slowly, wanting to
make it last. Her eyes looked directly into mine.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"What the hell difference does it make?" she asked.
I laughed and went on ahead. Afterwards she dressed and I drove her back to the bar but
she was difficult to forget. I wasn't working and I slept until 2 p.m. then got up and
read the paper. I was in the bathtub when she came in with a large leaf- an elephant ear.
"I knew you'd be in the bathtub," she said, "so I brought you something
to cover that thing with, nature boy."
She threw the elephant leaf down on me in the bathtub.
"How did you know I'd be in the tub?"
"I knew."
Almost every day Cass arrived when I was in the tub. The times were different but she
seldom missed, and there was the elephant leaf. And then we'd make love. One or two nights
she phoned and I had to bail her out of jail for drunkenness and fighting.
"These sons of *******," she said, "just because they buy you a few
drinks they think they can get into your pants."
"Once you accept a drink you create your own trouble."
"I thought they were interested in me, not just my body."
"I'm interested in you and your body. I doubt, though, that most men can see
beyond your body."
I left town for 6 months, bummed around, came back. I had never forgotten Cass, but
we'd had some type of argument and I felt like moving anyhow, and when I got back i
figured she'd be gone, but I had been sitting in the West End Bar about 30 minutes when
she walked in and sat down next to me.
"Well, *******, I see you've come back."
I ordered her a drink. Then I looked at her. She had on a high- necked dress. I had
never seen her in one of those. And under each eye, driven in, were 2 pins with glass
heads. All you could see were the heads of the pins, but the pins were driven down into
her face.
"******* you, still trying to destroy your beauty, eh?"
"No, it's the fad, you fool."
"You're crazy."
"I've missed you," she said.
"Is there anybody else?"
"No there isn't anybody else. Just you. But I'm hustling. It costs ten bucks. But
you get it free."
"Pull those pins out."
"No, it's the fad."
"It's making me very unhappy."
"Are you sure?"
"Hell yes, I'm sure."
Cass slowly pulled the pins out and put them back in her purse.
"Why do you haggle your beauty?" I asked. "Why don't you just live with
it?"
"Because people think it's all I have. Beauty is nothing, beauty won't stay. You
don't know how lucky you are to be ugly, because if people like you you know it's for
something else."
"O.k.," I said, "I'm lucky."
"I don't mean you're ugly. People just think you're ugly. You have a fascinating
face."
"Thanks."
We had another drink.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Nothing. I can't get on to anything. No interest."
"Me neither. If you were a woman you could hustle."
"I don't think I could ever make contact with that many strangers, it's
wearing."
"You're right, it's wearing, everything is wearing."
We left together. People still stared at Cass on the streets. She was a beautiful
woman, perhaps more beautiful than ever. We made it to my place and I opened a bottle of
wine and we talked. With Cass and I, it always came easy. She talked a while and I would
listen and then i would talk. Our conversation simply went along without strain. We seemed
to discover secrets together. When we discovered a good one Cass would laugh that laugh-
only the way she could. It was like joy out of fire. Through the talking we kissed and
moved closer together. We became quite heated and decided to go to bed. It was then that
Cass took off her high -necked dress and I saw it- the ugly jagged scar across her throat.
It was large and thick.
"******* you, woman," I said from the bed, "******* you, what have you
done?
"I tried it with a broken bottle one night. Don't you like me any more? Am I still
beautiful?"
I pulled her down on the bed and kissed her. She pushed away and laughed, "Some
men pay me ten and I undress and they don't want to do it. I keep the ten. It's very
funny."
"Yes," I said, "I can't stop laughing... Cass, *****, I love you...stop
destroying yourself; you're the most alive woman I've ever met."
We kissed again. Cass was crying without sound. I could feel the tears. The long black
hair lay beside me like a flag of death. We enjoined and made slow and somber and
wonderful love. In the morning Cass was up making breakfast. She seemed quite calm and
happy. She was singing. I stayed in bed and enjoyed her happiness. Finally she came over
and shook me,
"Up, *******! Throw some cold water on your face and pecker and come enjoy the
feast!"
I drove her to the beach that day. It was a weekday and not yet summer so things were
splendidly deserted. Beach bums in rags slept on the lawns above the sand. Others sat on
stone benches sharing a lone bottle. The gulls whirled about, mindless yet distracted. Old
ladies in their 70's and 80's sat on the benches and discussed selling real estate left
behind by husbands long ago killed by the pace and stupidity of survival. For it all,
there was peace in the air and we walked about and stretched on the lawns and didn't say
much. It simply felt good being together. I bought a couple of sandwiches, some chips and
drinks and we sat on the sand eating. Then I held Cass and we slept together about an
hour. It was somehow better than *******. There was flowing together without tension.
When we awakened we drove back to my place and I cooked a dinner. After dinner I suggested
to Cass that we shack together. She waited a long time, looking at me, then she slowly
said, "No." I drove her back to the bar, bought her a drink and walked out. I
found a job as a parker in a factory the next day and the rest of the week went to
working. I was too tired to get about much but that Friday night I did get to the West End
Bar. I sat and waited for Cass. Hours went by . After I was fairly drunk the bartender
said to me, "I'm sorry about your girlfriend."
"What is it?" I asked.
"I'm sorry, didn't you know?"
"No."
"Suicide. She was buried yesterday."
"Buried?" I asked. It seemed as though she would walk through the doorway at
any moment. How could she be gone?
"Her sisters buried her."
"A suicide? Mind telling me how?"
"She cut her throat."
"I see. Give me another drink."
I drank until closing time. Cass was the most beautiful of 5 sisters, the most
beautiful in town. I managed to drive to my place and I kept thinking, I should have
insisted she stay with me instead of accepting that "no." Everything about her
had indicated that she had cared. I simply had been too offhand about it, lazy, too
unconcerned. I deserved my death and hers. I was a dog. No, why blame the dogs? I got up
and found a bottle of wine and drank from it heavily. Cass the most beautiful girl in town
was dead at 20. Outside somebody honked their automobile horn. They were very loud and
persistent. I sat the bottle down and screamed out: "******* YOU, YOU *******
,SHUT UP!" The night kept coming and there was nothing I could do.
Michael W Noland Apr 2013
I wounded myself, to feel how it felt, razor stripes of my life trickled from my arms, and chest, i tested how it felt, again, how it felt, to hurt, and i lurked, in these tears of trickery until they dried.

I remember looking into hate for a well of ailments, but just layered laments on my fragility, but I still remembered the memories, as they blurred through times passing, fast forwarding right past me, pulsing, flashing.

I Remember the blasts of my friend, as his head cracked on a trunk, six bullets, rolled back eyes, pink foam, and a rasping noise, and all i thought was to catch his breath, one last concept, as it slipped on by.

Not one tear, not one cry, neither him nor I.

And I, still feel the feeling of those wondrous eyes of mine, gasping unto beautiful skies, in the sweet sweet surprise, of something bigger, something so profound, as to drown the world in doubt, of its thinking.

So young, so innocently brilliant.

And I remember sinking pits of regrets, and things i wish i said, as i bled, in tears, before the years stole the deepest emotions ill ever know, and strolled through uncontrollable turmoil, in rolls, and waves, of the tolls, Ive paid, in coils, of hate, all balled up in haste, and chucked at the door, mucked of the core, spilling its guts, on the mudhuts of my humanity.

Humility unborn until true scorn pierced center mass, penetrating my soul, my coal, my face, and my masks, changing me, redirecting my intentions again, to the forbidden zen, of absolutely ******* nothing.

Not a bird chirp, a cricket, or wind.

Not a frown, smile, or squint.

******* nothing.

And i remember my operational function, unplugged and bludgeoned, in the intoxication of girls, that whirled right past me, leaving blood, ***, *****, and glass, in my shadow, lifting from the ground, proudly striking down, everything but what mattered, as it shattered my heart, into a million fragmentation's that popped, on every person it came across.

I remember everything, like another's memory, remembering something at the door of knowing, before dying upon its showing, of the path, the caste, the infinite black, staring back from the black, and laid upon me the eyes to look back, and see that it wasn't me, and suddenly ...

I remembered nothing.
Josh Koepp Oct 2012
I don't remember the first song  ever made
I was not there to taste the sweet marmalade
dripping to this earth like rain in September
when it rained out from the afterbirth of
The first clever musical endeavor.
It was not i.
I was not the first to sit back
And rap my knuckles
Or tap my feet to the sweet rhythm
Of chirping cricket orchestrals
All written on the spot and never
Even thought about again. Like secrets
Carried to the grave of every short lived section
Of six legged minstrels.
It wasn't you either.
Just like you weren't the first to be inspired
By a cone spiders spiraling spire
Of a trap set for all music makers.
I was not the first to hear the melody
But if I could've been,
I probably wouldn't have taken it to memory
Or woken from my revelries
Because not everything new to me
Is the most beautiful flower you'd ever see.
But I could never rouse a lie like one that states
I wouldn't hum it off handedly later when
The sun went to wake the other side of the world.
And the orchestra whirled and settled into their
Whittled orchestra seats.
I wish I was there.
I wish I was the one who first
Was stricken speechless amid giving countless speeches when they first heard a cricket chirp in time with a meadowlark.
and Sparks danced amid the silence,
Too humble to adhere a single silhouette of sound
or even hint at the presence of an audience.
The sound wasn't meant to have applause
Or be critiqued of its brilliance.
Because it was the beginning
Of the resilience of the never ending sound we call
Music.
Thy innocence, thy innocence is more than what words have to say
Passionate face with youth that shall never decay
Oh, and stay mute amongst those bitter roses of May;
vanished worlds are real to me today.

Yester' firmly thou startled the wooden door
And grinningly stepped into the carpeted floor.
Vibrant speeches then thou began to tell;
thy voice silenced souls like a spell!

And how nature celebrated thy sound-
ah! as I could feel it on my bare ground.
Look! How those wheels just whirled round and round-
but bits of thy keen presence they never found.

Windy were just the dusky moors
Just as the brisk rainfalls turned worse.
Rattling against frail, murky hedges,
sweeping over cross, old shaky branches.

O! But shy, shy were thy glistening cheeks-
with shadows that were genuinely sweet!
Charming thy crowds with pretty wit-
as the new night grew darker and bleak.

Ah! But times for thou are forever;
while songs to thee are just curious and everlasting.
As death thou shalt never encounter;
with a life as long and unbending.

Aye! With that gaze so listless and melancholy-
but days so suspicious and full of poesy!
Thy steps still light but not playful;
amongst those tasks too hasty and dreadful.

Oh! Vivid clarity, and its colourful rainbows
are like the talents thou decently show.
Thy modesty might they but adore
Lightly and gaily, later and before.

O my willow! Thou art the fir tree to my green ferns;
dust and pale fire are thy dignified young heirs.
Last time when their suffering was hard and stern-
resolve thou did, their lonesome affairs.

And how dreary this smoky haze-
that once put me in grayish days!
But now strangely it has it been lifted-
and my whole conscience has now returned.

Ah! And how thou, thou wert there, once more!
As soon as I escaped from my dry stupor
and to safe convenience I restored;
thou wert within, just behind the door.

But like singing clouds thou drifted away again-
undead and undying, just like souls shalt always remain.
For thou there might never be tomorrow;
for thou art still, in thy here and now.
eponym1 Nov 2011
I danced ‘til 3am today
Until the witching hour
Then the gods cried
The sky came alive and
It broke right open for me.

I danced right in
Danced among the stars
Danced with the devil I did
To his pleasing beat,
And his seductive sin
Dancing with the devil I did.

And he held my thoughts
He held my pain
He held me tight;
Held the world away
And arm in arm, we whirled -
We danced the night away
Jacob Haines Oct 2016
It was supposedly a birthday gift,
this long-legged razor's edge.
My brother must've seen me
watching it's live demonstrations.

Little did he know,
how skilled I thought myself to be.

The wrapping came off easily.
It was crudely shredded by a lesser blade
soon to be replaced.
Then the weapon itself glared at me
through the clear plastic window of its box.
Unsheathing it then, I felt its power come to me,
two steel legs spreading for a ****** murderer.

I probed it meticulously, the blade
caught the light and somehow swallowed it
before its appendage whirled across to conceal it.
This was a knife with thoughts.

Then I tried my first trick.
The blade danced elegantly,
and though I held on (for dear life)
it wanted to escape from my clutches.
I was caging it gracelessly between my fingers
and its first prerogative was to be free.
Still holding tight, it changed tactics,
a blood thirst radiating from within.

The next move would be my last.
For one split-second it escaped the probation of my palms,
somersaulting through the air above me.
It pointed downwards for a final coup de grâce.

I divorced myself from the weapon that day,
stitches adorned my bloodied hands
and the blade was taken as evidence,
though for what trial I never discovered.

My brother tossed it into the sea, I found,
legs still spiralling, blade still sharp.
This is probably why this type of knife is banned in most countries; if you don't use it properly, it can be a double-edged sword.
Hal Loyd Denton Apr 2012
My fair Guinevere
The very name Guinevere sends me through time and space to another world with a thrill in my heart


Like no other well there was a time when I was six I think I will stop by there on my way back to reality
Back then a coloring book and eight crayons could fix big hurts like the time my uncle slammed the car

Door on my fingers as we started into a tavern I guess at first it was unbelief although a six year old has
A great imagination but seeing the door completely closed and my fingers in there something really

Wild and then the crushing excrutating pain my uncle whirled around and saw what happened now
I wasn’t being mercenary well first I didn’t know what that word meant must have something to do with

Machinery but I did know I was going to gain because my uncle was a crane operator I did know he
Didn’t operate on cranes like the one the Cranes potato chip bag but here goes larceny I think that’s

Like black licorice it gets all over kids faces in adults it just gets all over them it depends on how much
You pay they say crime doesn’t pay well larceny does but after you do it you have to run real fast or

Something well back at the car outwardly it was all I could do to hold on sloopy but inside don’t judge
Me but I was singing a ditty it went like this my uncle has got money and he feels almost as bad as I

Do look out world I see a coloring book a coming that was just an aside to make a point about hurts
I was about to run head on into one you ever had a hurt to last over forty plus year’s bee stings wont

Do it scraped knees heal but lose your heart at six and you’re a goner what did Rick say in Casablanca
Of all the juke joints in the world why did she have to come in this one why was she born one street over

When I was six and she was eighteen black hair the whitest skin Oh god you must got distracted you just
Kept adding more pretty did you know pretty can hurt I think most can I know Geri does she suffered

Through a beautiful summer she says the three of us didn’t even know her at the pool more important
My best friend Jerry that she had a crush on didn’t know her either I know her now and we are deeply

Connected by that summer and her heart of pain she knows what I Speak of when I make mention of
My fair Guinevere is she a legend in the court of King Arthur if you could see in my heart I wrote a piece

About music it says the Wolfman’s got your ears Johnny Mercer brings tears all through the years
Touché my knight angel that’s what I call her I will tell you why in minute did she make the flowers

Grow no but when she walked that’s where she walked in my heart paths lined with gardenias over
Head was my beloved Magnolia she wore garland to me it said I love you this was the lie I told

Because I knew it could never be and then in my world fate stepped in with a pain that made fingers
In a car door feel no more than a love tap I guess it was puppy love maybe so but I know I was one

Love sick hound I wiped a single tear from my face with the finger I type with so just one more is added
To the endless stream that started when through her bedroom talking to her friends I heard her say

She was getting married can a six year old love, kneel over me as she did my crying brought her outside
To my side this time her voice of cooing wouldn’t send me home to dream beautiful dreams of her

I wish dad was drunk maybe hell razing would have disturbed the pain somewhat yes I got up from
The tear stained spot at that instant it became sacred and for ever more she became truly my fair

Guinevere as with sir Lancelot the triangle of love was created that knight but the fallen wasn’t a knight
Who fell among thorny roses of romantic pain no just a child that rode a romantic stallion before

He should have I guess I’m still on his back we ride many a night I call to her through the dark
But only one visit could my night angel give I will ride on God promises love beyond and no one will

Have a heart of deadest stone window window my fleshly heart you destroyed so on my way home
Through the darkness in her yard I picked up this stone it works fine it is her memorial it is always with
Me if you want to know her name it s in the song Abilene

Why I wrote this as I said in the other piece Keats said beauty never fades into nothingness and he said
It has quality and even curative powers to lessen pain for others she is in pain with life changes this
Was written to relieve her of her burden and pay on the debt I owe her when she left the laughter of
Friends And knelt by a love sick child thats all I can do and I do it often maybe through this we can return
Just briefly to our sweet summer time of long ago
Solitary Sac Dec 2012
A wave crashed on me this morning...
And without thinking i allowed
It to take me with it, for reasons i got
None to protest, surrendering myself, getting drowned
Nevertheless it was a phase, a time i regret
Rationality didn't find place beyond the tears
Clouding in my eyes, forcing me to accept
That what couldn't be, all that my heart fears
Drowning, deep down, world whirled past
Eyes blurred, hands going numb
Darkness surrounded me, great shadows it did cast
No i didn't see the sun peeking from behind
Shut myself up in the world i was
Who knew nature would be that kind
Offering a hand to pull me back
A picture of what i did then came to me
A form of nightmare, that took my wits
I know was the stupidest thing to do
And with open eyes i did see
The bitter truth of life...Its not I
Who decides what i am to be....
So all that i got, is a meek sorry :/ :(
Cellar D'or Mar 2015
Bodies of black water
Marching towards the shore
In tides and waves of hordes
Overlapping as they roar.

On the pier, I caught her
Waist in molten charcoal
Whirled in tidal black hole
Engulfing her as it folds.

Daylight, upon the mer
Awakened from my sleep
Dreams of haunting Banshee
Sinking On The Iron Sea.
Rae Jul 2017
People kept telling her:
"you can't be this, you can't be that"
the girl pretended to listen, their words a blur
she sat there unnoticed, her face flat.

She went to school
receiving an education
she let her parents rule
keeping silent, hiding her creation.

When the nights closed in
and her parents went to sleep
she took out a notebook with a grin;
after all it wasn't theirs to keep.

She bled out words
that had stuck on her skin
outside chirped nice birds
unlike the crows she hid within.

Soon her graduation came
as she held her diploma in hand
she heard her own name
with it came the feared demand.

"You'll become a lawyer like us, right?"
the girl whirled around to see
her mum and dad standing up to their full height
she bit her lip, only wanting to be free.

"No," she told them, "I will not!"
she looked her parents straight in the eye
looking like they'd both been shot
but the girl didn't want to lie.

"I'll become a writer,"
she told them, with a light smile
her parents did not turn brighter
but that hadn't ever been their style.
- don't let anyone tell you what you can and cannot be -

— The End —