"wider" poems
Pretty little iris
****** white sclera
Despite those tempting lashes
Her lies are getting clearer
Come a little closer
Squeeze a little tighter
She's squinting a little thinner
But her pupils are getting wider
She wants your focus now
Don't trust those golden eyes
It only takes a little peek
To fall for those gorgeous lies
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 12:46 AM UTC
I think sometimes, about what it means to be transgender. I probe and probe for answers, because as the possibility for a new age of enlightenment and safety increases, the others want to know. I’ve come up with many answers, but I can hold to none. I don’t deserve to paint the definition of a culture with the limited experiences I’ve had. I don’t see myself in the transgender identified people allowed on television. I don’t see myself in the transgender identified people making news feeds and giving high profile interviews. And as my nation’s exposure to our culture increases, likely will their curiosity. Am I transgender? Do I have the right? I’ve heard doctors, psychiatrists, may refuse transgender patients access to hormone therapy based on how dedicated or convincing their portrayal of their identified gender. If you want to be a man or woman, you’ll have to look like the women and men on TV. If you want to be transgender, you’ll have to look like the trans identified people on TV. Every single one of us who has an active role as either participant or observer in our society is prey to the crisis of validity. Am I pretty enough? Am I strong enough? Am I brave enough? Mom enough? Dad enough? Competitive enough? Successful enough? Rich enough? **** enough? Pious enough? It never ends. We’re, as a nation of people, being crushed and compartmentalized by this ever present lens, looming over us, exploiting our weaknesses and fears so it may grow wider, and support itself as it follows us, seemingly forever into the future. And one of the worst fears this camera of existential torment exploits, in most of us every day, is, “Do I have a reflection?” “What does it look like?” “Do I look like me?” What does it mean to be transgender? I can’t get away from that question. But I don’t have an answer. There are varying degrees of anguish, depression, panic, anxiety, and other wonderful emotional states that creep up on you and breathe down your neck nearly every waking day. Absolute contempt for the lie of a life you’ve lived till now, and contempt for the fragments still stuck to you, in memories, attached to your body and mind. Fear of those in your own community who would purposefully humiliate, invalidate, or attack you, choosing their own universal moral code over the innate urge and capacity to support the health and continued well being of another human. A ******* neighbor. A ******* pupil. A ******* employee. A ******* sister, brother, son, daughter, mother, father, cousin, ******* blood. What is being transgender like? By my experiences, it’s just like being anyone else in the country. But with a lot more fear, death, exclusion and medication.
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 5:07 AM UTC
She's spent all the rent on
cigarettes and cider,
so pull out your **** and put
it inside her.
No need to bring your polished game,
for this one's a **** and that
is her name.
In her **** or up her ***
The choice is yours,
where d'ya wanna ***
Say "You fuckin' **** get down on all fours, 'cause this is how I **** little ******
Impale her on your hardened stick and explode inside her, creamy and thick.
Bangin' her **** hole,
it used to be tight.
It's not anymore,
it gets wider each night.
Then when you're done,
wipe the rest up her back,
letting her know most got
shot up her crack.
Next week she'll be suckin',
an appetizer before fuckin'
This **** she don't care,
for a TGirl with red hair.
******
Poetry by Kaydee.
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 4:33 PM UTC
To the teachers who never really cared and ignored my problems;
To my fellow ***** “misfits”, etc. Who will no doubt receive more abuse upon my passing, as my tormentors will no longer have me to push around;
To those who never cared, never spoke, probably never knew my name;
To the one true friend, whose caring was the only thing that prevented this event from happening sooner;
To the God, if he does exist, who chose to play a cruel, cruel joke on me when he placed me where he did and surrounded me with so many uncaring faces;
What about my teachers? Will they be sorry to see another student become a statistic? Certainly the administration and Principal will mourn, as my death will not reflect well on them as an institution. Well, I apologize for making the statistics for your administration worse. But I don’t expect an apology for the false sympathies of people.
As for my fellow students, those who made a more significant impact on my life, I know better than to expect my tormentors to mourn.
There’s another group I have not yet addressed: those not like me who left me alone. Or should I say ignored me. I appreciate you sparing me any further harassment, but your inaction, your withheld hellos and how are you’s did more hurt than any name calling. Your inaction effectively excluded me from student life, from the human race. You left me isolated and alone, and no words I could say can convey to you the suffering you caused. I could name names, but in doing so, I would do more now for you than you ever did for me in life.
I do not know what awaits me when I get down off this rope. Will there be a void? Or will I come face to face with God? I just don’t care anymore. If you’re anything like your people, I wouldn’t want to know you. You preached to love one another, yet I’ve felt everything except love from Christians. Even if I knew you were different, well, I'd still reject you. You have left your “followers” to treat people like me poorly. You have allowed so many of the people you “love”, including me, to suffer. So you want me to trust you with my life? I don’t want to spend eternity with a careless deity like you, or with the company you keep.
I’m trying to watch TV but I don’t know what I’m watching. It’s so lonely here. I want to sleep but it just won’t come. I’m so tired of hurting and being alone.
I hope that with my death, there'll be a wider awareness for child abuse and the effects it could have on a person. That's the only wish I have right now. A lot of people will be hurt with my passing, disappointed even, or maybe it won't matter. But I'd like to believe, no matter how much of a ****** up person I am, I died for a cause greater and bigger than myself. That's the only consolation that I have right now.
So that’s it. That’s me. Leaving the world to be a better place.
Goodbye - T
© Copyright Tyler Atherton
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 6:41 AM UTC
there's a fisherman down by the sea
sitting on the wharf
watching the sun sink into the western sky
a frown frames his house
he looks out the window
at his pole, gear
and especially that of his net
emptiness
metaphors that weigh on him
uprooting his garden
a garden of no delight
one lonely row of forget me not
and regret
all wilting
his foundation
lost
never found or realized
he pauses
runs his hand over his pole
like a belt without any notches
his grip slipping into the abyss
as the last of the orange
sinks
bleeds also
at where the sea meets the sky
where his day slowly turns to night
somewhere out there he sees his image
in nature's mirror
at his crossroads
for deeply
and some may say shallowly
he looks onto the sea one last time
and he means what he says
and throws his fishing gear in
tears welling in his eye
as he watches his teddybear sink
lips gurgling
seemingly asking why
... why
he answers back
there were no fish or bites
in his lonely sea
or wind at his back
... there
his window opens wider
the sea not singing or dancing
he sees the ambient light
correlations
... here
Logan Robertson
7/06/2018
Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 8:20 PM UTC
I know that I will never marry Jimmy Fallon or Donald Glover or Joseph Gordon-Levitt.
I know that despite the myths, Brussels sprouts taste awesome.
I know that one too many tequila shots will automatically turn you into a philosopher.
I know that the sun sets in the East and rises in the West (or is it the other way around?)
I know that I am most happiest when I'm surrounded by amazing friends in the unseasonably warm March sun and a banjo is playing.
I know that a smile straightens everything out.
I know that although you can't forget the past, you can't let it dictate your future.
I know that having *** for the first time is weird, and so is ****
I know that my hair is golden, my eyes are blue and I will never be stick-thin as hard as I try.
I know that there are 24 hours in a day, 7 days in a week and 12 months in a year. But it never seems to be enough time to figure out who you are.
I know that people come and go but those that love and care for you will stay glued next to you no matter what.
I know that as much as it hurts, you will get over love.
I know that I will never have the courage to rap publicly.
I know that Kim Kardashian's *** is most likely not real.
I know that travel truly broadens the mind.
I know that I'm insecure and over analytical and anxious and easily frustrated.
But I know that I'm also passionate and determined and a hopeless romantic and a picky eater and a restless sleeper.
And above all:
I know that when I look at you I see past your eyes.
I know that when you're around I smile wider and laugh louder and flip my hair more often.
I know I dress nicer to remind you how beautiful you think I am.
I know that I forget to inhale and that the butterfly on my shoulder has to fly up to my ear and remind me to breathe.
I know that I care about you more than anyone.
I know that I let you into every pore of my body, every opening: my heart, my head, my...
I know that I am willing to jump in with my whole body and risk being drenched in water for you.
I know that I can make you as happy as you make me
But I know that you're scared and vulnerable and hurt
But if I'm sure of anything (and mind you, I'm not sure of much)
I know that I will hurt and be afraid and breathe with you to make you love me.
Apr 24, 2012
Apr 24, 2012 at 2:53 AM UTC
I’m working to unwrap you slowly
To form you up like a theory
To create a habitat for you in my head
My steps grow wider when I see you at the end
Lying, lounging, an old lion
Afternoon sun low and tired
Rays and shadows streak the road like enveloping arms
As I grow closer, you project even further away
I just long to reach you
Rest my head against your ***** and
Sleep against your softness like a pile of feathers
To rest at last.
But at times I think I’ll never reach you,
As I approach you reflect even further away
I wonder that this road is endless, thinning into the distance
The black wires radiate into the air above me
Mutating my simple DNA into something else entirely
A sole purpose survivor, a solider
The cause is more desperate now
They’re buzzing to each other above my head, talking about me
Their scrutiny banging between my ears
The dust becomes a new layer of me, with incredible thirst
Just fields of dehydrated dandelions, just nothing
They soak up the liquid from everything
With their chemical and electrical waves
The fields are screeching as they shrivel up, like dying children
Now it’s all yellow, beige, and far away
It’s all so tiny against the horizon,
For all I know, your silhouette has become a statue by now
Just this long stripe of dirt I treat like a passageway
Just a ladder to a final place of rest
I’m desperate for a stop in my trudging motion
But I know I can’t lie down in this unworthy sand.
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 5:52 PM UTC
The Saga of battle face off between Arjuna & Karna.
Karna gets the Naga ashtra from the Lord Brahma.
The Naga ashtra arrow is set to hit the target without miss.
Arjun Chariot is Guided by Lord Krishna.
Arjun & Karna face to battle for the survival for the supremacy
Battle of best in the Kurukshetra between karna & Arjun
Arjun is know as the Best in the Bow.
But while the situation is different with karna with Naga Ashtra arrow.
Force of Arrow from bow making huge noise of impact in the wind.
With every arrow from bow of both are hitting in the mid air & collapsing
Karna lefts the Arrow of Naga ashtra & prays the Slogan to be effective
Arjun no answer to the arrow of Naga
Keeps quite & focus towards Lord Krishna
Lord krishna smiling replies to bow
Arjuna replies with angry Iam an Hero & can face with my Bow.
Karna with Big laughter speeds the Arrow of Naga towards Arjun.
The Naga Ashtra is a Destruction weapon in the world.
Naga Ashtra targets the Head of the Arjuna
Lord Krishna pushes the chariot by his thumb towards down earth
Arrow of Naga is straight towards Arjuna Head.
Lord Krishna Commands to bow the head down
Arjuna does so the arrow is supposed to hit the head with out miss.
Arrow is will not stop without hitting head.
Karana is eager to celebrate the Victory of best in Kurushetra
Lord Krishna hears the sound of hitting head
& Turns to see the What happened?
Lord Krishna says yes the arrow hit the head
Arjuna replies Lord Iam safe
According to Shastra Naga Ashtra hit the Head of Chariot
Karana will not able to reuse the Ashtra of Naga
as it has hit the Head of Chariot.
By this Arjuna Leaps wider angle to arrow the Bow
& the Bow lands on Karana chest.
The Battle of Big is won by Arjun in the period of Kurushetra.
Yours
Shankar Pattabi
Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 10:19 PM UTC
I go throughout my day
longing for some sleep
I look forward to seeing you again
After the moon rises
I eagerly get ready to sleep
Because
I will see you in my dreams
The dream time seems at a slower pace
As I go into my happy place
I once again see your smiling face
For a moment everything seems like it used to be
Because
I see you in my dreams
The sun rises again
I can hardly wait to see you
my family and friends
My love for you never ends
Can see the love in my sleep filled eyes
Is it wider than the sky
as I meet you once again
Because
I meet you in my dreams
I long for even just one hour more
to spend with you I implore
wait for me after a busy day
I pray after I look at the moon
That I will see you soon
as I once more close my eyes
No more tears sting my eyes
because now is the time that
I will see you in my dreams
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 6:55 PM UTC
They say the sea is cold, but the sea contains
the hottest blood of all, and the wildest, the most urgent.
All the whales in the wider deeps, hot are they, as they urge
on and on, and dive beneath the icebergs.
The right whales, the sperm-whales, the hammer-heads, the killers
there they blow, there they blow, hot wild white breath out of
the sea!
And they rock, and they rock, through the sensual ageless ages
on the depths of the seven seas,
and through the salt they reel with drunk delight
and in the tropics tremble they with love
and roll with massive, strong desire, like gods.
Then the great bull lies up against his bride
in the blue deep bed of the sea,
as mountain pressing on mountain, in the zest of life:
and out of the inward roaring of the inner red ocean of whale-blood
the long tip reaches strong, intense, like the maelstrom-tip, and
comes to rest
in the clasp and the soft, wild clutch of a she-whale's
fathomless body.
And over the bridge of the whale's strong phallus, linking the
wonder of whales
the burning archangels under the sea keep passing, back and
forth,
keep passing, archangels of bliss
from him to her, from her to him, great Cherubim
that wait on whales in mid-ocean, suspended in the waves of the
sea
great heaven of whales in the waters, old hierarchies.
And enormous mother whales lie dreaming suckling their whale-
tender young
and dreaming with strange whale eyes wide open in the waters of
the beginning and the end.
And bull-whales gather their women and whale-calves in a ring
when danger threatens, on the surface of the ceaseless flood
and range themselves like great fierce Seraphim facing the threat
encircling their huddled monsters of love.
And all this happens in the sea, in the salt
where God is also love, but without words:
and Aphrodite is the wife of whales
most happy, happy she!
and Venus among the fishes skips and is a she-dolphin
she is the gay, delighted porpoise sporting with love and the sea
she is the female tunny-fish, round and happy among the males
and dense with happy blood, dark rainbow bliss in the sea.
8.9k
A fashion designer has defended models who were labelled as "gaunt and unwell" on Facebook.
Andrea Moore's I AM range is sold at Farmers, and an image from its current campaign was posted on that company's Facebook page on Friday.
The picture features Chiara and Norina Gasteiger, who are twins represented by Clyne Model Management. Farmers customers did not react well to the now-deleted post.
"They so look gaunt and unwell. I'm really disappointed," Newshub says Anna Webster commented.
"You cannot look at these girls with their bones sticking out and believe that they are a good role model for a family store," Jo Austwick wrote.
"I have enough trouble with body image arguments with my daughters without these images being depicted. They do not look healthy."
Moore said the imagery had never been intended to cause offence, and that she felt for the Gasteiger twins, who have worked with the brand for three years.
"The twins are actually healthy, fun models who are busy university students... We love working with them because of their sense of self-worth and uniqueness as twins," she said.
"We have been in touch with the models and they were most upset by the whole thing. Fortunately, they have received a lot of support from their peers.
"The campaign was about preppy grunge, print with an edge. [It was not] about promoting unhealthy body types [or] anything else," Moore added.
Farmers posted the following statement on Facebook after deleting the I AM image:
"Dear valued Farmers customers! We appreciate you taking the time to send us your comments and concerns on a recent post for I AM. Please know it is not taken lightly and we in no way mean to promote an image for women in NZ to follow that could be regarded as unhealthy.
"We understand that no two bodies are the same and we always seek to show a range of body types throughout all our advertising. These images were supplied by the brand Andrea Moore as part of a wider campaign and were published by us. We will endeavour going forward to work closely with all our partners to ensure an appropriate image is portrayed.
"Thank you once again for your valued feedback."
Clyne Model Management have been approached for comment.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/cocktail-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/one-shoulder-formal-dresses
Sep 5, 2016
Sep 5, 2016 at 10:30 PM UTC
Warning:
The seagull flying over the Appalachians
could not possibly be amused by the
puzzles of an illegitimate composer
and the skyscrapers climbed.
1.
The skyscrapers were played by tall
rocks a girl climbed when she couldn't
remember if the cape she wore was
made from steel or newspaper.
11.
The newspaper they all read together
that morning (girl, boy, king, etc)
promised nothing but a fifty percent
chance of dandelions terrorizing the bus stop.
2.
The bus stop had since become a
dealer corner and the sunset behind
the mountains was blocked by the
flipping hair of a lost boy.
7.
The boy bought a toy for cheap -- it had
a built-in laser, so she stole it to blast a
whole hole in that guilt-ridden quilt hung
over the four dollar love seat.
6.
The love seat, she bought the day he went
to maple -- the soap dispenser was broken,
but she couldn't find anything new (that she
knew) to wash her hands with.
5.
The hands that handed her a hammer were covered
in promotions, so she stole the motorcycle when
they were watching the scarecrow going
through electric-shock, disco therapy.
8.
The therapy that she received from the
parrot-king and his troupe of square roots
was enough to make her not forget not regret
the boy with feathers in his ears.
10.
The ears she woke up with one morning
were different in shape than before
and the black fur she knew
was growing before her eyes.
3.
The eyes of the boy were wider than
the nightly news station promised, and
there wasn't really a difference
between caves and boxes in a town that small.
4.
The town she arrived in didn't have
a carpool lane or derby, so
she had to take her pet goldfish
to the river for his depressive state.
9.
The river wasn't as flooded after a couple
weeks of changing the tune on the jukebox
she found way before the departure
of her white gold pearls.
12.
The pearls she wore for her
coming-of-age were buried beneath
a dirt mound when she promised herself
to always insist on herself.
Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 10:49 AM UTC
On the bank of a rushing brook
I sat for hours watching its course.
Peered into the clear gurgling mass
That cascaded down from a mountainous source
Like a slithering snake, it slinks and slips
It babbles downhill night and day
Rolling and gliding through plains and dales
It winds its way to the wider bay.
Dipping my fingers in its icy chill
How my hand got repelled as from a shock!
In its ripples stirred by the kissing breeze,
I saw trees, clouds and the jutting rock-
All floating in queer, fanciful shapes,
Shuddering, trembling and standing still
And the fishes leaving zigzag trails,
Swishing and swimming in the winding rill.
As I quietly watched her speedy flight
With her ***** rising in mournful heaves,
In my ears fell her whispering soft
Orchestrated by the rustle of quivering leaves
I hardly knew the time speeding by
Nor noticed the birds’ homeward flight
Or the Sun moving to the west end side
And the Sky reddening at his sight
As the brook thus continued her headlong ride
To be mingled finally with the ocean wide
I walked, brooding over man’s relentless stride
To be merged eventually with the Cosmic Guide.
May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 9:10 AM UTC
I need to change the circles I'm in
Because I fell into the trapezoid
Of trying to fit a square peg in a round hole
Making people believe I was a square
When I was really a rectangle
You just had to look at me from the right angles
The shape of things now
Is me looking at you from the wrong angles
You're pretty hot
90°
When you turn away from me your hotness doubles
180°
I think my Pompeii worm could survive the temperatures
But if you were to turn back around
No creature could survive
360°
The paradox of the parabola in my pants
Will never be solved
It's not your math problem
We're just two points on this rotating sphere
Where time is a straight line
And our's is a segment
I wish I understood the formula
So I could predict the outcome
But there are too many variables
Leaving my head spinning in circles
And myself running in circles
Meant to be avoided
Because within those circles are triangular trials
Where two points create a perfect line
And a third point ruins that
As points are added to the population
Lines only get larger
Like the welfare line
Mammoth shapes grow wider and more complex
Like the Pentagon
Lines become more easily crossed
Angles more easily tangled
And my freezing point becomes my boiling point
While I wish for a world more two-dimensional
Because once I consider depth
I realize I could never measure up to my ruler
Jun 30, 2017
Jun 30, 2017 at 12:35 AM UTC
there is an elephant in the room.
it showed up about ten minutes ago,
just strolled on in as small talk
turned into big talk and the
elephant couldn’t find bigger talk anywhere else
so it stayed.
i offered it food, drink, a corner
in the garden, it laughed
and told me to stop trying
to be a good host
and just let it be, but i couldn’t just be,
trapped in the kitchen,
stuck between a rock and
a hard place, the hard
place being an elephant.
meanwhile the talk grew bigger
and it grew bigger,
there was an elephant
in all the rooms, we should have
built the ceilings higher,
made the thresholds wider,
if you’re going to invite
an elephant into your home,
it has to be able to fit.
otherwise, you’re looking at
tusks in the wall,
a tail in your face,
an elephant and no room.
the elephant swung its head
and our eyes met as the big talk turned
into small talk but the elephant
had heard smaller talk before
and i had offered it food, drink,
a corner in the garden.
i didn’t want to let the elephant
inside, but we had left the door wide
open, so who could blame
it for wandering in?
it stayed in the kitchen
and i stayed with it, it laughed
and told me it didn’t need
company, meanwhile the small talk
grew smaller and the elephant
grew bigger, i didn’t want company
but there was an elephant
in the room.
i didn’t know
how to take care of an elephant,
but that didn’t matter,
it already knew its way around
the house, knew how to small
talk even smaller
than our talk.
i asked the elephant
for its name. it laughed and
told me it didn’t matter,
it knew mine and that
was enough. meanwhile the
small talk stopped and i stopped
trying to talk smaller.
the elephant stayed
in the room.
Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 4:36 PM UTC
Enid removes her glasses
wipes them
on the hem
of her skirt
tries to clean off
the smeariness
she breathes on them
they cloud up
she wipes them again
I watch her
near the wall
of the playground
after lunch
waiting for her
are they better now?
she asks me
I look through them
the view is magnified
a million times
one big blur to me
yes that's better
I say
giving them
back to her
and watching
as she puts them
back on
pushes the wire arms
over her ears
then pulls the hair
over her ears again
is it all right now?
she asks me
sure I can see your eyes
clear as day
she nods
and looks
at the playground
and the other kids at play
why do some boys
call me four eyes?
or ugly bucket?
she asks
some kids are just finks
ignore them
I tell her
I can't help it
if I have to wear glasses
or am ugly
she says
intelligent people
wear glasses
and hey you're not ugly
I think you are
quite a pretty girl
as they go
she looks at me doubtfully
and then at the kids
and look Mrs M
wears glasses
and she's a teacher
and bright
Enid sighs and sits
on the steps
leading down
into the playground
even my dad thinks
I'm ugly
she says softly
you're old man
wouldn't know prettiness
if it came up
and introduced itself
I say
she smiles
do you think
I'm ugly?
I frown and peer at her
look I'm no expert
being a 9 year old kid
like you
but you can be
my Maid Marion
to my Robin Hood any day
could I?
she says
sure you could
she smiles wider
and says
thank you Benny
and walks down
into the playground
and goes play skip rope
with a couple of girls
by a wall
and I walk
down into
the playground
feeling six feet tall.
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 3:53 AM UTC
To all the laughters that we shared,
Smiles that we tried so hard to keep,
Mean things that we blurt out that we did and didn't mean,
Tears that we wish never existed,
Fights that we fought,
Hearts that we've hurt,
Stories that we lived together,
And ties that we thought would bind us forever...
I'm sorry.
You will be missed,
But that's all where you'll be.
The past that I don't even want to see.
To all the forced laughters that we've had,
Conversations and hang out sessions that feel like an obligation,
Beliefs and ideals that we no longer share,
Inside jokes that start to feel old,
Priorities that we no longer understand,
And plans we no longer want to do,
Thank you.
For making me understand,
That some friendships doesn't always last.
My world has gotten bigger,
And so as yours.
I've met people whom I have connected better,
And so as you.
I've learned to laugh louder,
Cry harder,
Smile wider,
Speak wiser,
And act in foolish manner.
So have you.
So here's to you:
To the acceptance that we would no longer be friends like we used to,
To the curiosity that will always linger,
Wondering about what-ifs and what-could-have-beens,
To embracing the fact that we were always bound to end from the very beginning,
To waving goodbye to the only kind of friendship I knew growing up,
And to loving the growth,
That we both had,
As we fall apart.
May 11, 2021
May 11, 2021 at 8:47 AM UTC
A life in poetry, A love in art
Set forth on a path that extends forever.
Though the closest reaches climb high
Over mountain and dale, through ravine and shadow,
The path goes on and as it does, descends into light:
So much light, more light than one can resolve.
It blurs the boundaries of the great valley
Splashes of green, the wonderful glare of richness
A river runs through the valley and nourishes the fruit
The sweetest fruit. It nourishes the body,
Nourishes the soul: renews, enriches, grows, sustains.
The path extends to the horizon. And beyond.
As it grows from the foothills it branches
Forming a fractal road of possibility.
Like roots growing from the mountain,
There appears nothing more natural in the world.
As the paths go on, they passes through diverse landscapes
Some places they make sharp changes in direction,
Some places they pass through further patches of shadow,
Some places they grow wider, Some places they get rocky,
But nowhere does the path narrow, beyond the first stretch,
Where the paths split, and over the mountains rejoin.
Beyond that there is always enough room for two
To walk astride.
Side by Side in Sunlight.
Hand in Hand.
For Maya.
Donald Guy
July 5, 2010.
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 2:37 AM UTC
a whole year
a whole wild world
hundreds of laughter
gorgeous amber
restrain my anger
i thought it was for the better
but my heart is shattered
unbearable pain
from a beautiful sin
getting wider everyday
getting sadder everyday
i am aware of limits
i face it every minute
but we're beyond that
is it that bad
been out all seasons
escaping prisons
fighting demons
i shout it out loud
hold you around
feeling insanely proud
you can tell by the clashing sound
but why am i wrong to believe in
everything we are
everything i got
my strength subsides eventually
painfully
because i'm out here fighting
but you're in there hiding
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 6:38 AM UTC
The immense striking letters
of the gazette’s front page
make me almost cross-eyed
My mind is going to explode
in the images I have seen in the television
Boom!
When will the politicians
be weary in stealing
the wealth of the country?
Millions of pesos were caught
in the centre of the golden sea
Can we only find it from other countries?
Is that the main reason
why Filipinos are migrating:
to find source of much bigger income?
I am thinking about them
together with their bosses
with heavy iron hands
I believe crime rate is escalating...
...the crime that can grab you
24 hours a day
Can we still smell the tainted odor
of pictures of the street children...
children who beg for a piece of bread?
Mr. President, where is the promised straight road
you are pointing at?
Why can’t we see it?
Is it crooked?
Why is it that these are
the ONLY stuffing of rumors?
Why can’t we focus onto a bigger
and wider problem of our country
and even around the world?
Perhaps above all issues,
this is the only concern
that is not yet trending in Twitter
So, I just boasted it to my open-mouthed puppy...
“If I will be the President of the Philippines,
I will focus first on ENVIRONMENTAL ISSUES.”
Suddenly, Bruno’s saliva dripped.
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 3:52 AM UTC
skies darker than midnight
eyes wider than owl
freshened grasses beneath us
splattered stars above us
let's gaze up
help them find their way to each other
link those twinkles into constellations
our fingers intertwined
as thoughts wander about
green pupils unseen
we're no longer nocturnal
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 3:01 PM UTC
There once was this silly spider
who spun her web wider and wider
until one day she tripped
got entangled and flipped
and she died because no one untied her
Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 5:19 AM UTC
We watched the NASA rocket launch
Two years ago in fall
Over the grass, under the sky
Behind the ball field's wall.
I raised my hand above us there
And traced a constellation
And while you laughed, corrected me
I scowled in consternation
Then there- above- a streak of orange
Ripping the dim horizon
A trail of light, a touch of fire
Grew brighter, higher, rising.
Your forest eyes, your white-teeth smile
Stretched wider, shown like mirrors
I saw the rocket's upward path
In eyes, so deep and clear.
I could have watched your face for days
Painted in the glow
The fascination burning there
I'd never come to know.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 2:12 PM UTC
All alone laying in wait, for your dreams to come true, the dreams of your Daddy, to come and take you to a new place.
As I enter your room, the darkness is erased, my power you feel as reach for your hand, bring you to your feet look at my face.
Quickly, I wrap my ropes around you, encasing my body in an elaborate web, criss crossing the rope no more mobility.
Arms tight behind you elbows together, I lay you gently down as I stand above you, admiring my work and my ability.
Laying on your back fully pinned down your legs spread wide exposing my very special kitty in all of its naked glory
I begin to finger you as I kiss and **** on my **** two fingers in you making you nice and wet, I look up with no worry.
My lips **** up your wetness, I come to you and share your taste, you lick my lips before I take you and kiss you deep.
Your lolli is hard, ready to pounce, but I will have to wait, your pleasure is my only concern, even though it starts to seep.
**** galore spread all in you, I press down gently on your ***** bone, as I enter a third finger which is nice and tight.
You gasp as you adjust to the size, dilation begins you are opening up. Wider for daddy as he makes you feel right.
Kissing you softly stroking my kitty, look in your eyes, blue on blue, lost and in your gaze, ready to give you some more.
Slide gently the last finger in, slowly my kitty begins to expand, I wait a bit longer as I give you all of my four.
Twist my hand, slightly to the side, as I tuck my thumb under my fingers and begin to slowly press up in to my hole.
I stop for a moment as you whimper for the discomfort, I ease your mind, your pleasure is my only true goal.
Relaxed you now become as I get my hand fully in you, My first is buried as I massage your spot, you try to buck.
Bucking against my hand you are bound too tight, my hands is in you, beyond my wrist, now baby girl I will ****
I **** you hard in and out, you start to scream in pleasure and delight, as I re position myself to give you a salty treat.
My **** placed deep in your throat, ****** starts filling you full, don’t lose a drop, or suffer you will, no more defeat.
My kitty tightens down on my hand, I feel it pulsate, it clamps my hand, my hand aches, i pound harder, deeper inside.
You scream out wanting more, I push harder as you bite down on the pillow, you are for sure daddy’s pride.
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 2:46 PM UTC