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Rated: · Poetry · Other · #1636486
An electrical index of all the poems that I have written since I have began.
Knowing

Darkness covers the tortured soul like blanket of cold ice and snow.
Not knowing where to go.
Lost into the seas of madness, demons possessing what's within.
Not knowing where to begin.
Tears stream down like rain on a sunny day.
Not knowing what to say.

Feeling hopeless as the levels of sanity slip away into the big, black void of pain.
Not knowing what is sane.
Feeling the soul's heart crushed lie someone crumpling up a soda can only to be thrown away.
Not knowing what dismay.
Choking on the thoughts with words to express what path is worn and abused.
Not knowing who is confused.

Death and rebirth to a new life only to find eternal sleep and dreams.
Always knowing it is not what it seems.
Reaching out to the moon to seek guidance to the Goddess who always knows.
Always...knowing what She shows.


World's Choice

Take a step inside a world of belonging and bliss.
Not a soul will ever be a hit and miss.
Bright greetings welcomed with open arms.
Many...so many full of charms.

Walk inside the world of dreams and fulfilled wishes granted over and over again forever more.
The mind is how we open the door.
Welcome to the world where those eccentric soul's belong.
Always be forgiven when things are done wrong.

Laughter and tears all rolled into one as this path is taken.
No longer ever being felt forsaken.
As a journey is taken to an always welcomed path of love and light.
Inside the heart's pure delight.

Freedom of choices, freedom of self-fulfilled, everlasting tasks.
Now it's time to unveil the masks.
As a dance becomes slow, a hand reaches out to touch the soul.
No longer entering a tunnel as dark as coal.

This is a choice, a decision needing to be made.
Or the soul's beauty will soon begin to fade.
Surrounded by darkness is another poorly made choice.
Inside the mind lies a voice.

It is up to the world how crossed the complicated, rocky roads of life when it can not be a possibility.
It is up to the world to stretch this ability.


Unspoken Desires

A picture that looks beautiful from within first seen as a stone, cold heart turns warm.
Just one look, a heart could swarm.
Face to face although a stranger inside one's compassion, yet doubtful mind.
At least it is known as one of a kind.

Stabbed in the heart as blood drips down to a puddle that looks like black paint.
When it is felt and seen, it becomes faint.
Only an illusion, a bitter piece of the tree bark tasting one's soul like chocolate bar.
It's always complicated, yet so very far.

Finding a way to the heart as it enters the one's peaceful slumbers of thoughts and desires.
Only to light up the soul's blazing fires.
Drinking the fine wine inside the imagination of smiling faces and slow dances.
Giving two people such daydreaming trances.

What's to give when it can only be a secret kept inside because it's only false dreams?
The pitter-patter of the wanting extremes.
Sigh...sigh...sigh...only a deep unfulfilled fantasy like a gothic romance.

Walking away to live another day.
No words to say.
Inside the dreaming soul's decay.
Never knowing if it's today.


Purgatory

Surrounded by a steaming tar pit of dangerous animals with a taste of poisonous drugs injected through the veins.
Screaming the nightmares, the memory remains.
Climbing the vines with broken glass and pointy thorns as the prick cuts deep.
In this world mockery we weep.

Prancing along in the planted gardens of witch bane and rusted black roses only to smell death that lingers on.
Remembering the ones who are now gone.
Reading the stones as they speak in a silent, yet lukewarm tone.
Only to know, this is a psychedelic downward spiral in the shape of a cone.

Screaming, whaling...a nymph in shattered desires and reality of what remains the same.
Staring into the eyes of the black lion that is not so tame.
Fighting to the finish as it gets harder to determine the mind's soft, innocent, crying, eyes.
The only way to know is to look up to the skies.

Dressed in black rises a woman figure with a face so pail and her eyes so red.
Telling the one that the soul is dead.
Taken by the arm as she leads the path of self-destruction and bitter hate.
Oh, the sweet sounds of torture is not worth the wait.

Running to finally see a bright yellow light at the end of the tunnel but moves farther away to the mind's eye.
Just a sweet collage of paradise is no longer a lie.
Keep reaching out to that tunnel of freedom, forgiveness, and eternal love.
Soon a greeting from The All will be disguised as a dove.

Smiling down...looking down at each of the souls who desperately want to free from the thoughts the one's own self-pity.
Come into the light, reach for that city.
Despite the cold air and confined spaces of laying there only to see.
Eventually, once forgiven, a soul will be free.


A Handfasted Love

A kiss and a caress when two souls took into each other's eyes to view the beauty in and out.
A feeling of self-worth and unlikely doubt.
Arms wrapped around each other feeling so warm as the soul's sun bathing in sky clad.
Knowing to have something so glad.

Use the trust, the loyalty, the things shared so deep in common like best friends entwined with one another in the inner soul.
The way it should be, an accomplished goal.
Recognizing each other's hearts is more nourishing and clean.
Inside the soul's eyes gleaming like a scenic nightly ravine.

Feeling the bodies of each other nude as hands are held with a tender kiss and the mating of their souls into one.
The magic of love is now done.
Sleeping beside as the night gets light like the moon changing phases like an eternal night light.
This is a feeling so out of sight.

Eternally and forever they shall be one like the God and the Goddess of this bitter, cold, yet worthy world of ups and downs.
Up comes next are the vows as hands are wrapped in a white ribbon looking like gowns.
Speaking the words of promise and love within a beautiful, vast feeling so peaceful as the sounds of the ocean.
A feeling so grand finally set into motion.


A Whole New Life

Thoughts are devoured inside the minds of the innocent of scattered images and broken records that were once played.
Indeed the gazes stare at another day.
Trapped are the innocent, fragile, pale minds which are weak, instead of strong.
Just like listening to the whining sounds of a sad song.

Taken is the pride, the dignity, and feeling less than human like a bad master to its pet.
Changing the mind soul's positive set.
Broken water pipes leaking so strongly as the mind slowly begins to shatter.
Intelligence has started to scatter.

Reaching out to the spirits for advice like a homeless person begging for money or food.
Trying so hard not to be crude.
An offering is given as the soul wants saved from the smelling, stinking septic tanks of their mind.
A whole new life, a different kind.


Seeking Truth

Seeking inspiration because of the timeless, dull moments of boredom takes our hands.
Only a person's perception can even understand.
Closing our eyes to a dimension of mystery, uncertainty, yet so much beauty like viewing the sunset.
Closing our souls as we are losing the bet.

Take our hands for the truth of life can be seen without a dull, old microscope.
Jump down from that chair, untie that rope.
Nothing so unnecessary to cease breath to a life so closely resembled to the underworld of the tortured and damned.
Just like the bull ready to attack but instead got rammed.

A picture taken becomes a riddle to one's mind unable to solve the idea of life's unknown answers to what is asked for thee.
Swimming in your own thoughts in your own bloody sea.
Take a look deeply to recognize the answer desperately yelling and hollering for attention to the mind.
It is not a tie that will soon bind.
Only to find...there is no kind.


A Wanting

A wanting of passion imagining face to face with lips moving closer together gazing at each eye to eye.
As hands are taken, the feeling is like a high.
Caressing touches as chills run down spines like taking the feeling of a warm, mild day.
As grown closer, there is no ending, not anyway.

Removing clothes as each takes a deep breath to wonder what is inside their souls, a curiosity so great to know.
Arms begin to wrap around each other, the souls show.
Touching, feeling, a wanting of being inside the cave of sweet paradise known as gasping for air.
It's the motions of slow dance like movements they share.

Sounds bellow out of mouths as the heat rises high and the pressure feels so intensely like having a body rubbed to relive such tension.
Then the release of connections is something to mention.
Laying on top as eyes gaze into their souls with a pleasurable exhaustion and a smile of satisfaction.
There's everything there that counts as action.

Beside each lies the hearts growing vaster from the fact of the connection.
In slumbers, there is a feeling of perfection.
A wanting so strong can lead to the innocent, breathtaking souls of true love.
Together...only together it has risen above.


Life's Analogies

Vanished with the wind as a freezing draft enters a lost soul like torture could not be given a name.
Wrapping around itself in uttermost shame.
Alone in the wilderness of life cutting through weeds and being caught in vines as they call themselves around the lost.
At any given time the decision can cost.

A guilt of nobility, honor, and respect is the solution for moments can fly by at any given instance.
As the mind repeats itself over and over that is subliminal in the distance.
Hypnotize the weak in the mind of countless hours like a torch being passed to the next in a repeated motion.
Not to make sense in life's total devotion.

Shrouds of emotions, desires, obstacles, and mysteries given as gifts like golden apples given to the most glorious fairy in the old, old mill.
Something pauses the thoughts like a cold, winter chill.
Whether good or bad season after season of years to live life as a warrior defeating the enemy in a bitter war.
Around the bow and arrows lies in the heart a rusted door.

Hunting for prey to satisfy the hunger of the lost in order to survive the roller coasters of the ongoing amusement parks.
Like owls gawking into the night on ancient tree barks.
Traveling in time the lost can not retrieve the input of data that can not comprehend the questions without proof.
As life is known can be viewed higher than a house roof.

A path taken and decisions are faced in the eyes of the world like a gone astray traveling salesman without a road map.
Being careful of the choices not causing to snap.
Sounds of music is heard through an old gramophone to the being as the sounds of trumpets.


Technology Strangers

In a glimpse of a picture, in the words of interesting conversations going back and forth in such magnificent times that's never wasted.
Imagining a kiss well worth tasted.
Being as one with just a click of a button to know there's so much friendship and caring.
When the final point is reached, it is so overbearing.

Glassy visions of uncertainty, only to make one so ate up inside with curiosity like cat searching for a mouse.
Thinking of one another, fantasizing in the reasoning house.
Wonder what if the feelings are so genuine or just something silly because of the scenarios of perfect strangers.
Unknowing to take a risk because of the proceeding dangers.

One shares the same thoughts to another as both writes to and fro in instant notes in timeless hours only to know more is shared.
Only obstacles are the barriers prevented from the dared.
If only in person can a solution be found to grasp the real feelings to see if it is the truth or just lust.
If only in person can be gained a perfect trust.

Sitting around for moments imagining what the being is like, like a dog sniffing another dog to gain its scent.
Imagining the risk of spending time worth spent.
Real or imaginary the feelings may be drives one insane to the point of consumption.
Only to find out this could only be an assumption.

Total strangers exchanging words sitting on a chair in front of the screen, as if they knew one another already in a past time as another being.
The yearning of wanting to meet one another, just to be seeing.
The risks are high but should it be cared or risked anyway.
Maybe...maybe...just someday.


Celebration Of The Goddess

Welcome to the unknown as the world is about to entranced full of power, beauty, freedom, and approval.
The All sees all and forgives with no removal.
Prayers, rituals, and celebrations of good times and blessings of fine, red wine to drink from the goblet of silver jewels of fate.
Makes the being meditate.

Flowers and gardens of herbs all in huge rows pranced through like a soft, spoken trance.
Observance in skin and have this dance.
Looking at the shining, bright light of the moon to meet the Queen of all Witches as She greets us with more than open arms.
Smiling down with love and light, blessing those with Her charms.

Drinking the red wine in honor of the maiden, so powerful and full of wisdom, knowledge, and power.
An offering is given to the maiden which is a graceful flower.
Blessed are those who have the honor of meeting the one, that pretty doesn't even describe.
Mystical, magickal, the drugs She'll prescribe.

The celestial heavens are the guide to find a ball of energy the Goddess presence enter the spirit of the one who called out.
The stars itself will shine even stronger with no doubt.
A dedication to Her love is much more than material possessions given on such a day, like a birth or occasion.
She will enter your soul with open evasion.

Discriminate the hatred of those who don't understand the good from evil and can't keep a balance of both due to the closed minds.
Karma fast forwards, not rewinds.
Ignore the madness of social ignorance from those who point out for what is believed.
For the power inside Her is always received.


Corporeal Life Ceases Process

Dressed in black as heads bow low for tears can not be seen as being disguised from showing mortal mercy of the deceased.
Holding in the mourning not being released.
Words are spoken in verses in honor of the dead, as if it is obligation to those who passed away.
Words from the ones who knew will relay.

In a box the eternally sleeping life form does not exist in corporeal form no more, like the existence of their bodies swallowed them whole.
A new being is in place that one have stole.
In honor of the departed the box slowly sinks in the ground like a well being created many times.
Not physically lucky anymore to find dimes.

Usually the rain pours when someone good is gone, like the wind picks up their remains to send them to the next realm or dimension.
A dream it may be for the soul's pension.
Speaking those words can only justify how known the beings were, like the inner soul found sanction at last.
In the ground the box lands, now it's the past.

In a new life, a being is being transformed from a catepillar to a ravishing butterfly.
Looking down on the loved from the ongoing sky.
Time is the beings to get their wings to fly.
As being said their final good-bye.


Ode To The Angel

Words can not express such gratitude to a mortal who reached out its hand to pull out the shattered, miserable, pathetic waste of a soul.
For in a distance, it's out there beyond the universe like that angel expanding its wings to take flight as the ancient, stony ball always will roll.
Bewildered by its heart as the angel sings a song of praise to heal and mend the wound of a broken heart.
Wishing on a star as the night turns clear as water from an aged, yet perfect brook to have a new start.

Unappreciated by the saints who call themselves cardinal virtues because they live in a mud-covered, ruined pool of denial.
Not seeing the whole thing for what it is, like a cat's pristine behavior snubbing the different and it senses the soul for awhile.
Banned and rejected from a world of closed minds and inner hatred towards the bitter hands of society.
Not being able to find compassion in thie world on life's philosophy.

One day the master of its domain will rise again ready to battle the false saints with its sharp, silvery sword.
One day the angel will grant the saddened and exquisite reward.
The crying souls of anguish grows worse as the saints who call themselves better belittle the peculiar for they know nothing but what they see as true is really false.
Laughing in the faces of the eccentric haters because of feeling the unusual lives life on impulse.

Words can not express such gratitude to the angel who lent its ear to the hurt, the damned, and the one living in intense pain.
Just to identify there is angels out there who will not mock and jeer at the confused in vain.
When the saints wake up and smell the roses turning rotten while pricked by the thorns of their predjudice, shut off psyches of selfishness and self-conceit.
Will finally be paid back from their scorned deceit.


Planet Peace

Appalled by the world for losing its love to the beauty of the nature that envisions this Earth, so blind to the magnificent that surrounds the good.
Shame on the world for turning their noses up at self-expression and different views that could.
Ripped apart by society, put down by the wealthier they feel in their wretched, wasteful, worthless minds.
Feeling they should be like the normal human race with no other kinds.

What the population sees is the image of how the world should be, like they're superior for thinking they do good when they once have sinned.
Blabbing their mouths that sputter out words of insults and their lesser tongues lash out thinking they have it pinned.
Outraged by the remarks the mortal bodies make that can make nature feel so low and small under a microscopic tool.
Believing who these beings are thinking they can perform water ballet so gracefully like a swan in a pool.

Angry at this planet for these bodies take for granted destroying homes of the spirit and setting emotions of those not apparently superior on fire.
Wanting to laugh at those prejudiced faces of the so called golden children society, the so called liar.
Forgiven can be an offering if the change can take form like brand new rose bushes being planted taking time to grow.
If the rose bushes don't fill out its shining beauty, to them will bestow.

Saddened at this life when all the horror and sorrow going on because of the refusal of alteration to become open, pure, peaceful, and serene.
Saddened by this life with all the anger and hate and the turning away of the love one another scene.
Each one of the species who can walk and speak need to come together as on with approval because that's how it should be.
Again someday a view of nature will look more glorious when air is inhaled with bliss and peace again reigns definitely.


A Perfect View

Looking in the mirror as the reflection depicts a dame whose self worth is being made fun of so dreadfully like children's name calling the less popular on a school day of bad times.
Sorrowful and pitiful the dame is for seeing what she doesn't want to bare for the hideousness she feels inside her is as annoying as the clinging sounds of wind chimes.
The dame reaches for her powder compact to try to cover up her seemingly homely face.
Inside, to all, she is beautiful, but she is not going to embrace.

Her body is whale like, feeling like an ogre on the trail to scare essences from their happy time of festive events.
She can't expose to look at herself unclothed for she has no stunning features, only in her dreams, so the thought prevents.
Shameful and humiliated at what the dame feels she's become momentarily looking at the grotesque textures of what kind of body she was giving.
The thick, cruel tongues of suggestions from her past is always reliving.

To some, the dame can walk on water for her gifts are seen through her creative endeavors.
But, she wants to be beautiful outwardly, like pulling many levers.
Her power is whole, but weakened is her willpower because her strength is not strong.
Her soul is purely genuine even when she feels so wrong.

As she touches her body looking deeply into her mirror image, she wants to shatter the glass and scream out in misery, for she refuses to see what others believe.
She feels powerless to change it, even if kind words receive.
In a being lies such a beauty she knows that she has but will not come to acceptance with it in deepest terms.
In her mind's eye her unattractiveness reveals itself in snake like worms.

She feels the Goddess, Medusa, for if anyone looks in her eyes, they will be turned to stone like a statue of their whole being.
She lives inside her sanctuary because the dame feels she is not worth seeing.
Inner beauty is more powerful in her heart as she knows it to be true.
She just wants her world as gorgeous in and out, a perfect view.


The Empress's Real Fantasy

He walks toward the door of her domain as the Empress sits on her throne surrounded by flowers and kind, furry animals with a maiden by her side.
He kneels down before her kissing her hand with his soft, sweet lips of lust and passion he can no longer hide.

She smiles so warmly as she looks down on him to want to hold him, caress him, and rest his head on her massive, billowy breasts.
To touch his face as she stands him up to look into his interesting, handsome, lustrous eyes to see the yearning as passion rests.
The Empress's face leans toward his and her lips pressed against his like tasting something soft and sweet.
Two of them in trances as they first meet.

He takes her hand and strokes it gently as he could not resist his internal raging fires of attraction as his words nervously expressed from his mouth like flowing water.
The Empress wants to devour his soul in a heated up slaughter.
For both unknown what's to become for they only just met in a time not no more than minutes on end.
A dance from the two of them will no longer to comprehend.

Her power of his knowledge is so great that she can read his thoughts of exploration and curiosity of what he is wanting to know.
She senses he wants more than dancing and some picture show.
He finds her beauty to be genuine as fear rises above his chest for he can may no longer breathe.
She finds him so beautiful as his eyes tell his story she's about to perceive.

As they look and seen what souls they were about to offer only to find what next step to take.
The Empress has boundaries, however, that can not bring her in the make.
Lies the Emperor who always stands by her side at constant measures.
When she wants the man she first seen for more than simple pleasures.


A Elegantly Natured Morning

A splendid morning as down makes known by the bright, yellowish glow of the sunrise releasing rays of warmth, soothing vibes as awaken.
The sweet, perfume like scent of the trees, the grass, and the flowers enhances its grace as the mild breezes and singing birds are not taken.
Sitting outside with herbal tea listening to the dialect of nature speaking in such love and beauty appreciating what it has to say.
Taking it all in as the wilderness fills with euphoria that is must obey.

The sounds of the trees howl in such a calming tune, like hearing the strums of an acoustic guitar in such blinging chords.
Closing the eyes to feel the calling from Mother Earth as the mind speaks to the lords.
Inspiration to all to pursue creativity in such a peaceful environment of serenity and ease.
Not even an emotion of thought of impurity and disease.

Inhaling in the fairness of it all sitting outdoors looking at what the surroundings has to offer to all.
Becoming emotionally undressed to a place a blessing to call.
Thankful for the way nature's elegance cures all negative emotions by a calm, comforting sound.
Opening the eyes and ears to the above to look to the ground.


Romance Under The Lighted Moon

The dark outside is bright seeing the eyes of a love that glows with twinkles like the stars farther in the sky.
As walking through the forests with arms wrapped around each other enjoying romance at its high.
The crisp, cold atmosphere discharges smoke out of mouths for breaths are seen as pure magic happens tonight.
Seeing the moon glow shine down on bodies exposes their nakedness about ready for tonight's delight.

Removing clothing in the cold, glowing night air.
For each souls feel each other like touching feathers without any care.
Laying on top of their bodies kissing passionately as mouths play games of tug of war as smiling takes place.
Eye to eye they gaze into each other's souls as the feelings of contentment is the case.

Holding hands as naked bodies provide a warm like feeling for the chilly air is ignored there is no haste.
Enjoying being inside one another as they explore their own passions having a romantic taste.
Breathing hardly and near panting as sounds begin to roar from a feeling beyond great.
No point in stopping the love making movements as the intensity becomes to gravitate.

A climax is reached as the mammals of Mother Earth release a pleasing, explosive sigh.
Holding each other laughing as affection is no lie.
Playful kisses and cuddly as the moonlight shines through their nudity like two innocent children so curious.
Exchanging words of pillow talk as their feelings are further than furious.

Towards the end as it was declared.
A fondness so deep to not be compared.
An erotic token of warmth passed on the shining Lune.
Nothing like a little romance under the lighted moon.


Pleasurable Tortures

Blackened ideas enter the mind of the ignored and deserted like the thoughts of death and blood stained wounds of the arm that was sliced.
Tonguing the snake God for there's no love for the pitiful seeking attention from the dark side suddenly enticed.
A kiss of sorrow is an enjoyment of an affair of an imaginary emotion being placed in the mind to make it look so cool and pretty.
Getting off on the blissful misery in order to receive pity.

Reddened perceptions of blood leaking from the self-inflicted wound used by a silver dagger.
Bellowing orgasms of self-torture as their world starts to stagger.
Missing pieces to the brain's jigsaw puzzle for doing such a deed for enjoyment of infliction cutting of the arms of the sick.
Not knowing what they are doing, or is it just a trick?
Playing with fire for their evil is enjoyable like an overweight population tasting their favorite candy.
Temptation to the sinister minds are always so dandy.

A game to the test to see what is true.
A change is required to start over new.
When a hand is reached for a soul who wants to stop is not taken.
Only pity is felt because the soul is forsaken.













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