Showcase your talents and find collaborators!
Poetry
Comment
-
Comment by the machine on May 25, 2023 at 7:04am
-
https://www.methowvalleyfarmersmarket.com/group/mysite-200-group/di...
https://www.methowvalleyfarmersmarket.com/group/mysite-200-group/di...
https://www.methowvalleyfarmersmarket.com/group/mysite-200-group/di...
https://www.methowvalleyfarmersmarket.com/group/mysite-200-group/di...
https://www.methowvalleyfarmersmarket.com/group/mysite-200-group/di...
https://www.methowvalleyfarmersmarket.com/group/mysite-200-group/di...
https://www.methowvalleyfarmersmarket.com/group/mysite-200-group/di...
https://www.methowvalleyfarmersmarket.com/group/mysite-200-group/di...
https://www.methowvalleyfarmersmarket.com/group/mysite-200-group/di...
https://www.methowvalleyfarmersmarket.com/group/mysite-200-group/di...https://www.jzsportsbar.restaurant/group/welcome-center/discussion/...
https://www.jzsportsbar.restaurant/group/welcome-center/discussion/...
https://www.jzsportsbar.restaurant/group/welcome-center/discussion/...
https://www.jzsportsbar.restaurant/group/welcome-center/discussion/...
https://www.jzsportsbar.restaurant/group/welcome-center/discussion/...
https://www.jzsportsbar.restaurant/group/welcome-center/discussion/...
https://www.jzsportsbar.restaurant/group/welcome-center/discussion/...
https://www.jzsportsbar.restaurant/group/welcome-center/discussion/...
https://www.jzsportsbar.restaurant/group/welcome-center/discussion/...
https://www.jzsportsbar.restaurant/group/welcome-center/discussion/...https://www.lineabon.vn/group/lineabon-d3k2-group/discussion/975fe9...
https://www.lineabon.vn/group/lineabon-d3k2-group/discussion/d80077...
https://www.lineabon.vn/group/lineabon-d3k2-group/discussion/e393f7...
https://www.lineabon.vn/group/lineabon-d3k2-group/discussion/d63cd4...
https://www.lineabon.vn/group/lineabon-d3k2-group/discussion/0d8435...
https://www.lineabon.vn/group/lineabon-d3k2-group/discussion/cb1135...
https://www.lineabon.vn/group/lineabon-d3k2-group/discussion/988871...
https://www.lineabon.vn/group/lineabon-d3k2-group/discussion/ff6384...
https://www.lineabon.vn/group/lineabon-d3k2-group/discussion/6ebbb3...
-
-
Moods of a Mosaic Hearts
My Hearts a Mosaic
It looks like Byzantine
Or The Thing
It would seem
I manage to take damage
Like its a advantage
Watch me try to stay sane
And rearrange
Another Picture
Another Sister
Another X what did I expect
Everything wet
But eventually you get wrinkle
And it gets old
Starting to feel like Kris Kringle
And managing your list of demands as a man takes its toll
Yet your so bold
What do you bring to the table?
Your Body?
Probably?
Is it Leftover?
Well if it is let me take a swig
Of this wine if its fine
And we can let this Passover
You the Judas
The Brutus
That's who you is
I need crucifixion
Its not fiction
Sacrifice would be nice
Where your conviction?
Probably somewhere lost in a vision
Of Unicorn and Capes
Where your Ego is safe
Delusional the Usual
But yet your Beautiful?
That's up for definition
That's not your preposition
Especially when you live like a villain
Breaking hearts and keeping its parts
But you cant have these pieces
These are for my nephew and nieces
To see the cracks and creases
Every patch and grievance
To see this Heart as Art
As a start
A lesson
Progression
You can make it
You can take it
Nobody safe from Heart Break
And when it break
Just gather and remember you still matter
-
Comment by Robert Michell on November 6, 2017 at 3:34pm
-
Lines Written Upon the Moor
—On the poetic right to passion
I hike upon the sultry moor
where heather tufts abound
And clustered berries grow
in profusion all around.
Rolling fields are broken, here
by crags and rocky spurs
And rimmed by stands
of rugged tamaracks and firs.
Where shadows overhead
bring a touch of death,
Little ponies run with
heavy, snorting breath.
Up from bays and marshy shores
clad in misty wreaths
Low stone walls de-mark
ancient holdings of the heath.
In all Moorish tales, youth
and innocence are cursed,
For nothing here is straight
or what it seems, at first.
Skirting granite monoliths
and mossy, covered logs
I come to the border
of a vast, miasmic bog,
Above me, sodden clouds
form a smooth and somber ply
While on the mire are strewn
broken pieces of the sky.
Though tangled roots and brambles
hide the run of hares,
They likewise veil the intrigues
deep in foxes’ lairs.
I chase the shouting wind
within the grasp of God,
And, with a heaving chest,
hurl myself upon the sod.
Here are tribal remnants
that time has left undaunted:
Cairns that are yet,
by savage spirits, haunted!
While tracing wagon ruts
beneath a rocky tor,
I feel a strange heartbeat
I’ve never known before:
Upon a precipice,
I become a feral child—
Naked as the true at last,
and utter as the wild!
-
Comment by Thomas Abraham on March 20, 2016 at 5:05am
-
Depths of my Heart: poem/song
Bright lights, big cities what do they have on you?
Step out of the shadows and endure
one more breath, to capture the resonate longing of your soul
Drink from the cup that never empties
Into the depths of my heart, go
drink up, drink up
Into pasture hidden garden of yesterday
the sweet smell of lavender on my lips
I turn away from the hustle and bustle of the urban landscape
Drink from the cup that never empties
Into the depths of my heart, go
drink up, drink up
Drink from the cup that never empties
Into the depths of my heart, go
drink up, drink up
By Thomas Abraham
written just now, 3/20/16
-
Comment by Justin Parsons on December 11, 2015 at 12:38am
-
-
-
Summer Sleeps
Summer sleeps
Its eyes are tired
Fall is coming
Cool air
Dog days gone by
Trees stand tall in awe
But wait!
Look!
Their leaves
Beautiful and bright
They're changing color
Swaying gracefully
From high to low
They sink to the ground
In a moment the snow falls
And the cold awakes
Warm inside we watch from the window
-Terri Gary
-
Comment by Michael Darrell Walker on May 10, 2013 at 9:32pm
-
Love Always Believes
by Michaelw1two
Inspired by Janea (lovey.87)
life changes,love in stages;
lusts one had,
love just a fad;
want love that stays,
a love that pays;
that helps,
one that’s not for play;
loves found ayes,
loves surprise;
compassion’s sages,
love you crazy;
which is real…which is real... which is real...
love is the wanting,
love is filled with nothing;
love the person,
you do not seek;
when you can offer,
defeat hurt and sorrow;
when you awake tomorrow,
loves stage will mellow;
reckoning’s constant wallow,
a way to show this love;
your hands, to your heart,
fit as gilded gloves;
which is real… which is real... which is real
utterly weightless,
knowing strife is pointless;
when this is gone, all you see,
is beyond, togetherness;
know now, there is no turning back,
dream through your nights for this;
you alone lapse, into loves depths;
your heart doesn't beat,
there is no options for defeat;
which is real… which is real... which is real...
no selection of mind strays,
your love has found me;
believe in love and so choose,
will to sing and fly loose;
once love looks your way,
blissed amusement can play;
love wants me for who I am,
I will to find it, I can;
love is here for me,
because of me, love is set free;
no matter how I am used,
taken lovingly and subdued;
which is real… which is real... which is real...
love is not hard to conceive,
my will, love always believes.
Michael Darrell Walker
-
-
Fear’s Embrace
Inspired by the word-works of Mamata Sampath
with that it comes,
what lies beneath it;
beauty or horror,
it captivates me;
crawls and creeps through me,
to it, I succumb, while being;
agast of it, I fear it reaching me,
little, do I believe or know fear;
sly manipulator, your rationale in a whisper,
self-doubt makes you weak;
and begging for mercy, you let go,
one, surrendering to oblivion;
for what, I do now know,
fear, you do acknowledge your hold;
you make me helpless and tossed,
let me want to live, and love the wrest;
to be haplessly torn, by life and love,
like a walk, in moonlight, my essence glowing;
beyond the dark and the unforeseen,
be mighty fear, but the unmerciful servant;
I seek your help to free myself, from me,
I do need you, I am ready to build your altar;
with my love, passion, rejection, and pain,
I embrace it all, life, beauty, love, and death;
I accept it, it is you fear, and I need you,
your dwelling place, is my sanctuary;
I am now fed and freed by you,
and, I live completely for your embrace.
Michael Darrell Walker
-
-
Revisionist
by michaelw1two
in the pit,
of my abide;
someone breaks wind,
burning odour takes over;
who cares.
If I were reversible,
an awful thought, is this possible;
notions maw, those hooves that paw,
you reduced, made by things minuscule;
by the straits, of your hypocrisy.
soon, so soon, silver slippery spoons,
you think, you thought, you brought, you swoon;
your image, reflected through time’s hourglass,
contained, within a porcelain thrones surpass;
beholden to and only hued, of a mindset maimed,
god damns, those whose houses, cause humans pain;
will contained, this moment’s spine, unholy trilogy,
your image, and a cracked reflections eulogy;
this shall then divide you, male from other,
man, from lover, man from mother;
we will to meet, the finished treats,
if we speak, you will recognize your creator;
my voice, the things it’s yearn, oh shite you say,
want to hear, can you bare, your thoughts this day.
Michael Darrell Walker
-
-
Tautology
by Michaelw1two
Life’s pendulums once strongly swungreleased each soul to fate
to its chagrin time’s Ides did send
chills subdue as memory relates
intense, the anguish of such returning
swinging to and fro elates
today one’s breath is just a hiss
as living’s joy is scrawled to slate.
Fist’s grip succumbs to weary graspas upon time’s arm you cling
subtlety being that ane beyond control
realization’s miff it is so ousting
fate’s brisance, one of release
inertia binds a life against its sting
sneer molds the face, a masked grimace
such sight is eerily stirring.
One’s drink, when so compared to lifeexpression shown it be bitters
urge in herb and unquenched thirst
your dyspneic draw sum’s botha
living’s muse, time’s circling ennend
certain firsts to Ibn Yunus’ betas
plurge ablution’s hand me downs
senses stained shape life’s bouquet.
Weariness, the strain on thoughts and limbalas the putrid epopt
tests resolve of spirit’s clade
presumption mists of spittle swapped
salvation calls, ictus now begun
the choice of swing proves uppity
strength slays a will’s commute
essence in awe is self co-opted.
Swilling fleer reflects mind’s mirrorsastride this surreal Faucault
Ephialtes crept upon one’s back
that cirth denies this pendules’ hault
corruption’s ply unyieldingly wound
its release listening ears auscult
conundrum curst, the world’s awhirl
self survivals key a soul’s envault.
Pictured thus one lifelong messhidden not from qusguous qued
in vivo the repetitious asking lays
phaeic answers so resolutely due
living’s yawn is incessantly drawn
from the swingy lump that’s you
entelechy of all life dies
pendulum stalls, and now...
your time is nearly through.
Michael Darrell Walker
-
-
Beauty tis each cummings art
by Michaelw1two
inspired by the work of Joanna {jz645356}
lust, an elusive find,
often not of heart, but mind;
upon sweets touched,
soft moist lips kiss yearned;
that thought to take first,
and selfishly give less inkind;
whatever, one’s thirst needs quench,
of tastes not words;
although… those lusty moans do,
give rise to swollen treats and dews;
through eyes closed,
an excited moment’s rush thought’s surge;
and… memories lisps, uuummmm,
do concisely converge;
during completion’s lapse,
on two very different, yet so similar slits;
these mists, and droplets,
one’s cummings gleaned off whisper’s spits;
exploding myths, and offering’s sweats,
oh, the mind’s entwine, with living’s gods;
yes, truth’s passions spent, the time’s relit,
and once again peace gains the nod;
remaking just this simply joyous groan,
the rich of nether regions owned;
by the gasping breaths that share,
this moment’s riche, on the fifth’s dimensioned honed;
then in an instant that which thrilled,
and threshed the soul is done;
and what then remains, the air you once breathed,
and the skins you once donned.
Michael Darrell Walker
-
-
Waiting too Volunteer
by Michaelw1two
Like pulling teeth, with a string piece,
tied to the foyer door;
chocolates melt quicker… in an oven,
hands or arms, silent alarms, ears ring;
dressed as that sweats stag, lacking tobacco,
resist that resistance, be owned self’s insistence;
sweetly soured, somewhat dour,
what is this hour;
temptation’s abound,
tease this hungry hound, whatever;
cherished, sherries treats,
each to soothe the need;
yearning learned,
burning sordid, boiling’s seeds;
flower’s lacking, architect’s slacking,
building’s crumpled stock;
however, daunting issue’s quest,
needs be this structural block;
willingly thorough, one moment’s esquire,
Gardena’s council kowtows;
threshed be bending,
supple sup the sweetmeats;
borough be bending, suckled scents,
entice howling’s boughs;
thighs gently imparting,
joust this penning’s entreat.
Michael Darrell Walker
-
-
‘desire irreality’
by Michaelw1two
beating hearts
knowin how it starts
we imagine
what doesn't like reality
focusing incredible
blinding eyes
believing lies
forgiving those to be
open and let yourself see
lorena 630 and michaelw1two
-
-
Pretty Flowers… Prettier Hands… Damn!
by Michaelw1two
And: Objections lens, itself towards thee,
to wit between, your view and which witch being meant;
then instant caustic, bee an irritant,
belay beneathe ones behooved breasts, so suckling sweet.
Instant lei, be tossed aside, each thoughts soul waned;
a lass or low behold, as star to Isis’ suade,
centered such, two wills agonst each sole’s tree knells;
glanced therein twined flames, compassionate sweets kissed.
Upon… that time, when all one’s dreams held such mean,
perception’s stout myth, a mystery, without mind’s ends;
that battle, an epic fought, of words gentile friends,
becomes an adversaries clash of stinging bold works.
Serpent’s touch, toothed and hooves, these daze dawns,
obsolescence twined there, retiring a black queens pawn;
tongue remiss, salute’ pissed, reap that soul’s reward,
begins thereunto compassion’s truth: lets life rend.
And: these serpent’s instants, glanced upon by them,
to believe one’s chance, perusal’s truth’s circumstance;
calms ablution’s thus, begins a Proust’s objection,
dissing’s hist, the shite hawks bled, one thousand hands spun.
Untoward comes the newest dawn, lines cleaned crowed,
dressage requites, the truth’s word wright, this Lord’s honed sward;
hissing’s bless, an annuls bliss, twice rings interred,
choirs sing out; that heeled tapping lads reincarnated!
Michael Darrell Walker
-
-
"The Salivating Few.”
by Michaelw1two
madgirlslovesong and re-edited by michaelw1two
“the body of solid blue,
My Prayer;
that I, might clean away the rust,
in the crevasses, in the hinges, of my sick soul.
Come, with God and Gold and Pearl,
make them blue once;
with holy water,
Come peel away His hot eyes.
abrase my skins...
praise my sin...
Seethe sea shell charms, compare me,
collect me;
Boil red dinners, for which I indulged,
and bartered the pearls that sat
upon a satin pillow, inside my ribcage.
Brass -- Violence --
ghost sheets and halos—
Winds and wallops
a white sea
Laced by quantum oil spills
Shaken sparrow
prayer, flutter and ash-
the rush, of purple-winged shadows,
that strobe light knuckles;
to Deliver From Evil,
place upon packed clay,
a cell that ticks –
submit to the vertical bind,
Eden serpenting wrists and spine.
To stay is a question, an enemy,
built on the backs of atoms;
building, Eve's spare bones and ribs,
how to escape,
She Knew...
she flew...
not, from pride, but from friction,
the searing orgasm of resistance;
she dove-dived downward,
anticipating the raging ground.
The light illuminated,
the love lucid loss;
leaving, the bliss of the blind."
Michael Darrell Walker
-
-
woolsey owl / march 2013
by Michaelw1two
inspired by wordworks of poewhit
who that
one wits’ curl
fun way truth..
tet, sure was proof
soft in the hooves
fun way truth..
loved justices’ glue
walked in sustenances' soul
fun way truth..
gives honestly that glance
integrity his amore’ blasts
fun way truth..
fit-n-trim, tight-n-slim
music’s, fined by who’s wind
fun way truth..
styles gots his girl
minds’ in that twirl
fun way truth..
seedless emptied baby
for a while yet lady
fun way, it’s that -- truth!!!
Michael Darrell Walker
-
-
Dynamics for Dummies
[(penn-mar 91732) 2013 march]
by Michaelw1two
Dinosaurs-
Diana Shores-
Dyna Jims-
Slym Gyms-
Busta Mores’-
Horry Shite Knaves:
Empty thought Sheaves:
What the Fuck: I sneezed!
Michael Darrell Walker
-
-
The Wall @ penn-mar 91732
by michaelw1two
“I use to live in a room full of mirrors”
Jimi Hendrix
Crooked stop signs,
Flies and left fisted lies;
Buttered, yellowed, belied; spokes centered;
Books, bricks, binoculars, and bright shite;
A binder, a mobile pedestal, duel axis, doodle-ing;
“rope-a-dope”…
Right corner pissed upon, left corner neutron bombed;
And a para-legal, in a parley…
Pointed pin-head; why don’t you sleep in any bed?
Michael Darrell WalkerJohn
“read ‘em’ and weep”
-
-
Mind's Refuse
by michaelw1two
Inspired by the work of Alanna Young
My unclear mind’s refuse,
to read your deepest thoughts;
this hallowed consciousness,
now reamed of its trust;
the lack of you, beside me walked,
alone in teaching’s grasp;
they slowly close in fear,
as surrounding as mourn's weary weep;
all shadowed is my twin,
as I walk slowly there;
up towards that stairway,
leading our bonding home;
will’s wish be spoke,
into your embrace I long;
this thought, oh the tears,
upon my cheek now flow;
fore long, in suffering’s whet,
they no longer sow;
in example thus, to express,
my most profound love in too;
your thoughts do surely know mine,
and how I cry for yours;
that hate, which is my loneliness,
in our times apart;
this deep, this thing,
which turns my grace to thresh;
to my amaze, these locks and bindings,
keep me in heart’s loss;
with each wring, my soul is bared,
upon it’s line and age;
expose' the ending's rode,
at each and every gate;
so lost, I express the weakness,
that I do not smile;
and this owned one shown,
is anyone’s, and not the truth;
that doe so skewed,
within I’ve kept witch in, and in kind turn;
in chance, this dark escapes and arises,
in mind wherein;
and with ease this done,
as I’ve done ere before;
the truth of fading facts so true,
without you, there is such me;
to this, an only frown,
and never more to smile;
I need your tome, your tone,
your singing loud and edgy voice;
to wright my keel, and gently sail,
upon the winds of wings you bring;
your touch surrounds,
my spirit toils;
this soil I am,
to your yearning roots;
an essence gained,
is that you knowingly show;
upon my searching face,
to find the heat of your embrace;
this life, this breath, our nature’s gift,
the graving grace that is you;
release that first thought and bring,
brightness to my most profound dark;
yours is that strength,
that honesty, that brilliance sown;
to gently warm,
my weary of this world soul;
this, is that which feeds the need,
to fulfill my will;
and how this,
is needed sown by all;
to ease the chill,
that breeze which fear so breeds;
my spirit kneels,
in stunning stupor’s stain;
as the irreality of these spinning tines,
when gently plucked do toll;
my spirits veiled to that,
which you show, as life’s true bright;
this needs be to me,
through these eyes, it is I your seer;
my fear of loss, your light,
your love, your call;
self’s essence freed, my heart now bled,
my home is there with you.
Michael Darrell Walker
-
Comment by Brian Allossery on July 21, 2012 at 12:38am
-
Here is a poem left by an old man in Australia-
They found it after he died and it has gone viral on the internet apparently-
It gets right to the point-
---------------------------------------------------
Cranky Old Man
What do you see nurses? . . .. . .What do you see?
What are you thinking .. . when you're looking at me?
A cranky old man, . . . . . .not very wise,
Uncertain of habit .. . . . . . . .. with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food .. . ... . . and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . .'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice . . .the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . .. . . A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not . . . ... lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . . . .The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking?. .Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse .you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am . . . . .. As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, .. . . . as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten . .with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters .. . . .. . who love one another
A young boy of Sixteen . . . .. with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now . . .. . . a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . ..my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows .. .. .that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now . . . . .I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . .. . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . .. With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me . . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, .. ...Babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children . . . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me . . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future ... . . . . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing .. . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man . . . . . . .. and nature is cruel.
It's jest to make old age . . . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles .. .. . grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone . . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells
I remember the joys . . . . .. . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . . . . . life over again.
I think of the years, all too few . . .. gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people .. . . . .. . . open and see.
Not a cranky old man .
Look closer . . . . see .. .. . .. .... . ME!!
© 2023 Created by Lazy Poets.
Powered by
You need to be a member of LazyPoets.com to add comments!
Join LazyPoets.com