"yeilds" poems
half a cup of
a two toned muse
yeilds a quarter of
a sultry pair of cat eyes
& a tragic obsession
with princess serenity
stirred in with a dash of inconsistencies
and every teenage boys dream
under the heat of a mistress gaze
correcting grammar and errors
mixed in with your matching blacks,
& a quarter dozen
of féline decor
with shoes to complement
toss in a diamond ring
throughly wrapped around
your annulus finger &
indulge it with
strange behavior then
top it off with a silky whip
to accommodate
the quenching fluid of
a ******* *****
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 10:05 PM UTC
The eyes that could change the world.
If only they could speak.
For they would speak of the woes and trageties
of what lies behind them.
They emit light to show content.
But the light is produced by fire.
It burns, damages, scorns.
Yet yeilds light to see the color.
The beautiful color of his stained-glass eyes.
-n.s.
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 8:39 PM UTC
I am but a soul roaming the treasured land for but another
aimless wanderer...
magnetizing myself to their connection
and they to mine...
a dreamer who thrives in thought of fantasy
understanding the true illusion of reality...
genuine to their sense of character,
in regards to the grandeur experience...
an amusing essence that will soothe
my soul with a tender touch of passion...
a timeless source who is willing to discover
with me rather then idlly slip and waste away...
to dance with the infinate energies
of attraction to precious beauty...
spiralling an endless motion of unified vision...
a learnerwho yeilds to all lessons
and walks away a wealthier person...
a parallel enhancment... my wanderer
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 4:37 PM UTC
The River Ice Has Begun To Vanish,
Famished, It Yeilds To The Sun,
Piece By Piece Its Body
Succumbs To Ripened
Heat; Slowly It
Is Devoured By
The Current
Until It Is
Gone:
Time
Eats Away
At The Winter's
Impending Hold
On The River's Bubbling
Laughter; Sought After Due
To Its Delightful Chattering
Which Gurgles Peacefully Within The
Tender Summer Nights Beneath The Stars
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 6:25 PM UTC
Alone away from you she gave a smile
At me. Of joys she offered not with guilt;
To freshen rest my aching limbs awhile,
I meekly followed thought I couldn't wilt.
She stood beside me, I lay on the bed,
And faced the floor fearing. But what surprise!
Her hands wandered, softly groans must I've made;
Unashamedly felt so good, I felt nice.
Her strokes softened sinews, muscles less strained;
With oil she eased my rolling hills and fields.
She rubbed, heightened senses, her fingers trained
To massage, how to make the body yeilds.
For life is sweet without secrets to keep;
When hearts afar our love be rooted deep.
Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 8:52 AM UTC
Death Always Yeilds New Life
*Blooming Flowers
Wander The
Earth's
Soil
As
They Learn
To
Love
The
Sun*
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 10:51 PM UTC
Sunrise.
Sunset.
Oh how I forget,
another passing day,
and how it brings me one more step closer to my inevitable grave.
What morbid thought is this?
That my life is made of memories.
And memories are things I forget.
Do I forget myself?
Ahhhh Somebody please help.
I forgot my life was still there.
I need to be more self-aware.
I cannot blink only stare.
For then I could spot it running up on me.
Yes if I could only see.
Oh Death please forget me.
What meaning is in this life.
If the tasks of history are only going to drift away in our minds.
Oh **** you the passing time.
Sand drops drip one by one,
into the hourglass of the setting sun.
It goes by so fast when you look, yet faster when you don’t.
What torture is this? What a burden to add to the list.
Well the meaning of life is this:
A Painter paints a fence.
Yet with each passing day the Painter memories of the fence fade away.
Yet the paint remains. His actions stay the same!
A Farmer farms a field what a ferocious crop he yeilds.
Yet the crop he remembers no more.
What a sorrowful tale of yore.
But wait theirs more...
The grass grows...
The corn crows!
The plants dance!!!
All because of the Farmers ***
The crop grows up to the elbows!
All because of the actions of this average joe.
So in the end remember please.
What your life means to the rest of we.
A life is a seed.
A legacy.
When your gone its a song that can still grow.
So fill your seed with love...
..sit back....
....and in death watch the show.
Jan 25, 2011
Jan 25, 2011 at 9:05 PM UTC
half a cup of
perfectly sculpted hair
yeilds a quarter
of a suburban style
& a tragic obsession
with the american flag
stirred in with a dash of
unquestionably good shoes-
a hint of stripes
adorned with a
a scruffy flannel armor-
blended of color palettes
mixed in with
your matching blacks,
& a quarter dozen
ankle boots with
banded legwarmers to match.
toss in a pair of leggings
a couple of two cent beanies
and plaid button downs
thoroughly wrapped around
your nether bottom &
a fanciful coffee
in hand prettified
with a binding bracelet
telling me
to creatively and
elusively
**** off
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 11:09 PM UTC
here sit i
a skalded-babe
at a prison-box of
metal and wood and plaster.
chained for the span
of the elf's glory passing,
i shuffle leaves of wood
from in to out.
i move the hamsterwheel forward inch by inch,
or i runabout in a
runic-neon-field,
with my cheesy,
tailess-rodent, biting
and chewing away,
for the need of budget burning yeilds.
if lucky some snail mail
may come to relieve
the electronic humdrum.
if not,... i suppose,
i can knock on the world wide, spiders-door, enter
the ether-frame...
and see the cat, playing
piano, badly in fortissimo.
or be a mouse-jockey
in the web-led rodeo
then when the elf's are done
home to hearth,
i will run,in the rover of the land.
to sit by whale road on
golden sand.
and go make fodder for
the artisan-sawdust-man and the child.
for us to eat with carrot-comb and steak-stabber
before sitting down
replete,
for a night in with the
zombie-creator.
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 6:01 AM UTC
Cheerful was the day I was handed the family heirloom
It's funny how something simple can give you such hope
The kind of hope a toddler has when their mind is still pure
Purity like when you first discover what mint smells like and your parents are still your bedrock
All that yeilds when your present and future diffuse
Like the future of having 2 jobs that clash and you barely know how to use a ******* toolbar.
And the realization that soon enough you'll just be a corpse full of maggot larvae.
Then your only hope is maybe one day you'll be discovered as a fossil.
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 11:28 PM UTC
I the poppy
Grow in the field
I **** of profit
By law
A good harvest yeilds
So much for so many
I will take you to the wall
Ride the dragon
Once is for kicks
Can't do any harm
Buy me,sell you,live it up
Oh, now you stick needles in your arm
Reasons, needles
In a life that burns
Conscience will not fit
Play hound my friend
When backs are turned
and feed the need with it
The evil without
Is now the evil within
This has always been the plan
I will never let go
Though you rage
And you shout
You never were much of a man. Hy
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 1:59 PM UTC
Sitting in a large hotel room
Thinking of the competition coming soon
One person in my left has a binder out
The kids across the hall are trying not to shout
Fixing up the gadgets at the last minute
While some play board games in the mindset to win it
It's 11:30 at night, I'm eating cold Chinese
Win or lose, fail or fly, I do as I please
We all cheer when the fourth comes back with ice
This moment is my paradise
Sitting on a mountain the temperature of snow
I eye the massive valley below
The farms and forests make a patchwork quilt
The streets and towns are embroidery of silk
The sun rises, setting the treetops on fire
My campmates wake up slow with some ire
Out here, I'm awed by mother earth's ways
As my friends and I decide how to navigate our days
I don hiking clothes under the day's new light
This moment is my paradise
Summer in full swing, the crickets cry
As twilight yeilds stars in the sky
We wander the camp, the ocean roars in the distance
Masters of our fate, we don't need assistance
Whether at the beachfront, ziplining, or boardwalks
We run like a fox pack, not caring who gawks
As we think of the adventures of the world ahead
There's nowhere I'd like to be instead
As our flip flops crack on the ground the camp comprised
This right here is my paradise
We're running around another big city
So much to see, and I have my group with me
We just got out of our musical clinic
Now it's time to explore the town, see the magic in it
We'll meet up at five, for a dinner at seven
We'll go on a boat and get back at eleven
Right here, right now, we can make our own way
Free from routine, we get to have a say
We're a bit confused, a little underdressed
We still need chaperones, and we're way underslept
Even with all of that, this will more than suffice
This right here is my paradise
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 10:39 PM UTC
Waves.
Swirling pools of salted tomorrow
Lapping away moonlit sand.
Scorched wood burned new acquaintances
As carmelled smoke rose to the heavens.
Fabric embraces heated with warmth of
Liquid confidence, the night shone with rings .
Dunes.
Massive excitement tumbled across layers of
Memories now particles against the sun.
Laughter abundant outstretched to heights
With stomachs knotted flown like birds.
October yeilds rays of joy
New love cascading thoughts
Surprises await dawn for the future.
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 10:21 PM UTC
You conduct, around a God, not too know if real!
So what in life, is too his appeal taking all your desires and reels.
Not me I live, with only one thang creating betterment of all.
So fade, from his shades and resume with fake sins.
Creators of God, begone from my reality I will decode your reasons.
So as too the seasons "rain storm, and "hail" making preposition of a once blue sky now pale.
I walk among other life and feel at one.
Autmum, colors and crisp green grass under a sky gray.
Yeilds of grand crops for a rich soil is prized at a hoes first touch.
Too a God, of matter he formed are they really creation, for a magical being where's the wand.
A cave left with out his placement "where did he go" as head's begin to scratches.
A holy, wind blew blowing dust in all directions who seek's me of none death.
The Cave, was dry now as they begin speak of whom the is of.
I creation of toy's will sport you in results.
Successful, my deduction is you all move, with flaws and commit pointless moves.
All the matter of spaces are mine.
So think of any format, or conduction even a program, for the consideration of all is all.
Mar 31, 2017
Mar 31, 2017 at 3:42 PM UTC
*Speeds of time surround
Me modestly
In times of wonder
Speaking to my soul
In second person
Stroking my passions
Seductively with an
Admirable quality
Hanging on my every move
With lying eyes
Leading me blindly into places
The ears can't hear
But the eyes can touch
Following a red brick road
Passing by forests of great
Magic amongst wise tree's
Telling tales of a tin man having
No heart and a scarecrow
Having no brain
Such great wonders the imagination
Yeilds within the believers
Step into my world, the ride
Of your life shall begin*
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 9:53 PM UTC
A thousand dreams woven
beneath the feet of hard working
reflections.
But nothing ventured forth,
like a corpse of bricked virtues
the land didn't give birth to life.
Only bricks of contemplation were
built, and they were vacant
of any substance. For what is built
had nothing to fill it only ideals.
For earth that shelter one,
will endeavour to show no yield.
And only vacant ideals stand where
crops have faulted on brick..
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 2:44 PM UTC
Your a condense, versions of all thang's of being.
Life never yeilds a halt for life is a magnificent processes.
Each moment brings all conponets to be expected.
When you turn on your TV, you expect the pixels to become seen.
As life, you live you expect, all to be changable each instance, better than earlier "sections for time" is a cover a lid to all outcomes.
So does death happen to a body of soul.
No your expextions of death are farbractions.
"You experience life, as you would want Dream ****** recite this as true.
☆ Light of dust floating into place of our retinas as seen
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 7:20 PM UTC
During a saunter in the abnormaly warm fall air
And amidst the trees that faintly glow from the residual summer's heat
She and I talk and laugh without a care
And listen to the crackling of the leaves beneath our feet
The setting sun sets her hair alight in autumn fire
And I bask within the warmth of its auburn flames
Its heat lifts our souls ever higher
As we each leave behind our names
I could dance forever amongst these swirling embers
Becoming one with a mid autumn’s breeze
My eyes widen as she leans in and whispers the words of a song that only she remembers...
Moonlight fills the room around me like a flurry of white ash
Burning my eyes with each flicker of the undulating curtain
Waves of frigid air wash over me and the empty bed beside me
A discordant silence fills my ears
Which yeilds only to the light thud of sweat on my sheets and my heavy breath
I step onto the frozen floor and make my way to the open window
I shut it, momentarily shunning the oppressive cold
Another breeze touches my back
Carrying with it wordless whispers of the past
I pass the threshold into the endless void
The floor creaks loudly with each step towards the second window
As I am about to reach it, I see a light in the corner of my eye
A pale blue spark glints off of the unsightly scar on the mantle
I grab the urn and cradle it in my arms and fall to the ground
A cry of anguish fills the empty house
It fills me too
For hours I lie on the dark wooden floor
Watching the sky melt in the approaching dawn
Finally, it catches fire and the world bursts to life
I rise and step out onto the balcony
Then turn around to look at my house one last time
And we fall backwards into the embrace of the morning air
Together...
Time slows down as I descend
She cradles me as I softly drift towards the ground
I cannot help but remember the days we would spend
Swept away by every melodious autumn sound
My vision fades like a dying ember
Yet all the while, I gaze into her amber eyes agleam
Singing the words of a song that we both remember
As we sink into a pleasant summer’s dream
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 10:50 PM UTC