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Details | Analogy Poem | |

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis

ONE WORD~

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, 
Running through my mind,
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, 
Running through my veins,
                                   
A silica odor, dust walks through a fresh desert night, 
Cool air beneath and above the sea.
A warm furnace smell, I don’t understand.
Intricate to rise and receive without knowing.
Up ahead in a virtue distance, 
A mysterious poisonous effluvium light-     
My face feels like a leaf'
My sun holds up its own pendulum rods. 
Inflammation comes and settles in for the night,
There it stands in a pertinacious manner, with quality.  
I resurrect this air created from madness, all over again.
Twilight, rain stranger than strange.
Visions, pursue my path into an infested dark pasture.
"From the red Heaven I fell into the waters of a cobalt Hell"

Perhaps this venerable moment, will pass slower than slow.
PERHAPS NOT!
If I accept, and then decline.
Would this balance the precocious state I live in?
How about when wrong directions follow my promiscuous ways.  
Is my conglomeration of ideas, no longer safe?	
When I no longer value the values of the young.
Will I sleep at the mercy of his ancient heart.
They're the voices give and take from our health. 

Today, those soft, perfect eyes are calling from far away,
Ashes high, vapors and infection welding me.
The bright skies swallow every thin silver line,
Where the clouds sit somehow~ in bacteria….
UNITY! 
YES UNITY! Fantabulously-fantastic!
Always, wanting more than love can touch.

We are living' it up with no alibis!
A way to be and not to BE!
The champagne leaves their cup.
Awaken in a life, disturbed ~ NOW INTERRUPT!
Only in this world, lava will reach her lips.
Prisoners and doers; 
All night…. Too late for a treatment.
Lungs, decaying, evil rats. 
Direction, affection, ending all the inhalation.

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, 
Running through my lungs,
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, 
Flat-lined my life ____/\ /\___ ___/\______/\___ _______________

By; pd

Details | Analogy Poem | |

Dear Lucifer

I cannot compete with something as painstakingly glorious as you
Envy is but a humbling tumble down a steep, rocky hill
I am crushed in your fits of glory—your screaming for passion
My approaches are absolutely wrong
Therefore my communication is a weak, ransomed victim
Your poison arrow frog skin rubs against my exposed body
I happily accept my fate
For your beauty surpasses the ephemeral pain of the infectious reign
My erroneous, inevitable downfall
I hold you up—I feel the need to keep you tall!
Michael the Archangel did not insult you once, Lucifer
How then will I? 
How can I possibly be higher than you?-
Why would I want to?
I admire your freedom
I simply disregard your macrodomes of ever-worshiped flaw 
If I could allow myself, I would share in your glory
Only to add to it further
But as I am poisoned with the truth
I can only be your grounded pedestal
And though you flee from humility in its wake upon my brow
I realize everyday you are living for the grounded now
And I merely look to the unknown future
A place I dread where you unwillingly hold me up
Bonded in the ground with Death and Hades
You become my pedestal, and the worms my vineyard
My parasitic feet seer your glory
I am ever so sorry
I never wanted this renown

There was a time I do recall
When you overtook me in my sleep
I cried aloud in helpless acceptance
But soon I was forced in a croak of laughter
I felt your bitter poison
I felt pride at last
I thank you for it
I thank you for showing me

What I will never be

Dear Lucifer,
Provoke me no longer to praise your eternal existence
Generations of Evening take a hold of me now
And the fruit must be shared

Details | Analogy Poem | |

Simple Words For Simple People

If I had a pretentious brain which acts faster than my heart Maybe then,I would abhore this soul which spreads freely through each verse Maybe then I would impress you with my intellectual grammar and sophisticated words I would scrutunize each and every coma dot and exclamationmark believing I know best But I would never let that happen I'd rather stay at bay Writing firstly with my mind and not my heart leads only to an asylium within the being of myself Poetry is my voice,my shadow The sacred shrine of great escape Each stored emotion processed within a yesterday Poetry is the inner of my existence breathing softly,bleeding deeply exploding in death,love passion and romance In every verse a whisper a thought that I would scribe of a silent cry expressed Maybe in a tomorrow you might pass by me Tread your footstep on my ink and spit saliva in my face But maybe in a today a broken -hearted fool stops by to find comfort in my world Maybe a prisoner,a tramp an insane soul or outcast would pick these scattered scribbles and gather them as whole Maybe through each criss-crossed puzzle finds a narrow passage which leads his faith to home Maybe a little child whose blissful giggles depends on little words would turn the dusty pages of silly rhymes I penned Rhymes which know the moons stars,faries,and the magic land Rhymes which know each fantasy and how to be a friend And maybe He would smile Maybe He would laugh Maybe He would dream Maybe He would grow up to write the most eloquent sonnet there has ever been Or maybe He would grow up to write simple words just like me about daises or dandelions and expressions to be free

Details | Analogy Poem | |

WRITTEN IN THE SAND

WRITTEN IN THE SAND The Big Five—Africa’s pride in the vast open wild Buffalo, Rhinoceros, Elephant, Leopard and Lion Their prey—scattered Impala, Kudu and Waterbuck On hardened dust… their footprints prevail and stand WRITTEN IN THE SAND The proposal day--- carefully planned- a beautiful beach Red Roses, a Picnic, Sunrise and Diamond ring The petals—scattered on the soft damp sea tabloid Lover’s plea….a stick his pen, “Marry me—take my hand” WRITTEN IN THE SAND Early one morning--- He entered the dusty temple to teach Scribes and Pharisees brought her in—an adulterous Large stones…scattered for all to throw and accuse Jesus bent down… wrote with His finger on condemning land What was His message…..? WRITTEN IN THE SAND

Details | Analogy Poem | |

A Poet With A Priceless Pen

I am poet with a priceless pen
born to burnish the beauty of men.
I wonder what mortal mirrors reflect...
For me, all races deserve respect.

I often hear the splashing of rain,
and flood rushing down the drain.
I see the petals of the morning bloom
and dawn peeping into my dusky room.

I strive to forget the tales of ages long gone
when dreams died as deeds undone.
I am a poet with a priceless pen
born to burnish the beauty of men.

I pretend to be a terrific tree
sapping the tears that betide me.
I feel old scars opening each time
my heart tends to commit new crime.

I touch the heart of the gentle moon
and worry if the Sun will shine at noon.
I cry for the youth and aged in need
and for gluttons in the grave of greed.

I hear the whispers of wealth and wisdom
flowing freely from the field of freedom...
I am a poet with a priceless pen
born to burnish the beauty of men.

I understand the chains of our choices;
frailties of our fate; our darn differences.
I say let us not preen on what is not ours,
we will leave them in the six-feat towers.

I crave a world without woes and worries;
the mortal mall of matchless memories
where everyone trades a lasting legacy...
and love is shared on the platter of mercy.

I long to see gray skies turn blue
and my sweetest dreams come true.
I am a poet with a priceless pen
born to burnish the beauty of men.

Details | Analogy Poem | |

Miracle Divine

In the midst of great turmoil and strife, 
There is a force manifestly to be heard…seen….touched
A voice—ever so soft… yet loud enough to break mountains at their base
It can make a grown man cry—can distort the finest face
Lead the mother eagle back to its nest…
Run its hands against a tumultuous sea to rest…
Shedding tears of empathy when the woman,
With child, is seen- alone…sore. . . distressed

With mind enduring beyond mortal endurance
With arms stretching across the universe of opportunities and darkness
With eyes blossoming like those crazy sunflowers reaching to the sky…
Suddenly… you will feel its yellow fires 

It is the very storm that knocks us down 
To the depths of humility...patiently waiting for the perfect time to strike, 
It comes like an earthquake and tremors the very soul into action... 
It is the war of mercy that will devour to create and rejuvenate! 
It tells the geese to fly south, whispering them in the right direction... 
It is the soft growl of the lion that wakes its babe to safety...

Like music, it can soothe, or agitate,
Its rhythms changeable…forgivable… 
When you take a wrong turn, a dissonant chord harsh as lightning will expel
Suspended in the air—colors more mysterious than hell
And when you love—oh how sweet love carries cherished lips cosmically….
A smile of the most precious melodies ring
New colors—see it, new colors shall spring

What this light truly means is to be revealed
Only for the precious few who listen and truly feel
Wrapped in the soft ribbons of love beyond all mortality 
Beyond space and reality
Beyond the very tip of the mountain,
That never had to be touched to be brought to its knees…..
Not once did this force ever have to take the woman by the hand
And say with conviction… “everything will be okay….”
Because phenomenally… she would simply hear it in melody,
Inspired by the blazing sun of a newly dawned day-
Freshly caught tears of joy priding the lonely spider’s web

For Justin Bordner’s Divine Intervention Contest
Thank you, with love,
Laura 

Details | Analogy Poem | |

Rose of thorns

Rose of thorns

The crimson hue became a thorn and everlasting blossom
- its imaging was tho' entombed inside his convolutions
so braving bloomed the pasture was, forever his and blithesome;
the fine drops dropping, turned to be the moistening ablutions.

Amid the shadows of the dusk, the myrtle mauve enhances
the passing of the veil that dark descends and hides the ridges;
while the eternal rose of thorns, that agitates and dances,
his crimson solitude embraced and life, amidst the breezes.

Aeonian, the blooming rose, his destiny reverses;
the jagged reasoning of thorns and emptiness that signals
consequently becomes a tomb, betimes chivalric verses
while in the rain dilutes and flows along the windy fiddles.

© 03-22-2014, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic Decapentasyllabic verse)
(new poem)

Sponsor: Kelly Deschler
Contest Name: Every Rose Has It's Thorn
Deadline: 4/20/2014

Details | Analogy Poem | |

I Saw You Amongst the Wild Horses -part 2-

But you—the wild one
You were compulsive, fiery and inventive
I had my share of the wild and free
But you were molded from them—with insane beauty
Despite our differences we remained together
Perhaps you think I mean to save you—tame you
But I merely long to contain the sun
And hinder the pervasive burns
So that in so doing, I may always keep you warm
For cold wild shall destroy
As warm wild shall invent
Searing wild will one day save the world
And then destroy it all the next

Dear beloved one,
I saw you amongst the wild horses 
I did not dare touch you
Because I was afraid of Change
But Change was a delight—an apple to your eye
And I did not realize that Change was embedded in my very being
So when you shyly approached me,
I knew you were hungry
I fed you ample laughter and music
And soon I gained your highest respect
Along with a thousand other mystical blessings
I will not always remain by your side as if I am among you
But perhaps I shall linger at a distance—level to your luminosity 
As words continue to flow, I shall slowly inch myself forward
To be frank—you are the greatest companion in my world
Hot or cold—seared or chilled
You will always remain among the wild and free
And that race is sadly. . .
Slowly dwindling
Tell me you shall never become me
Never Change

In honor of you,
One day I will reach out my quivering hand
And you will consume the Apple of Friendship
Until then, 
Look beside you
As was inevitable—
I have changed for the better
Because you are—and always will be
My very greatest friend till the end

-this Ode was meant to be altogether; I hope you enjoyed reading, and thank you-

Details | Analogy Poem | |

The Flight of Tempest Reigned

Upon a glorious night
A burning fire lit upon my unrented spine
Deafened by fleeting sight
I flee the home that never was quite mine

Crushed in garish fight
Within the corridor I dare to flee
Blinded by his might
While all the sad spirits return to me

Oh Tempest, you blow in me hope
Of sorrow more true than any other light
Oh Tempest that guides my departed
To your soul so bright
Rejoining each of us—the broken-hearted 

Upon that vaporous eve
Enclosed in bond beyond mortal grief
Lost to the foggy reef
The fog that so lingers in these glistening eyes
That vapor drew me near
Bedazzling more than the moonlit mirror
To where I see him fly
Twas a heart-reaching place I always fear

Oh Tempest, you blow in me hope
Of sorrow more true than any other light
Oh Tempest that guides my departed
To your soul so bright
Rejoining each of us—the broken-hearted 

Between the beat of my breast
A heart that beats only for him
He slumbers in the clouds
The clouds that pour my poignant prose
Beyond the darkened seas
The wind does carry the scent of his bequest
Within the folding of the storm I cease to rest

Oh Tempest, you blow in me hope
Of sorrow more true than any other light
Oh Tempest that guides my departed
To your soul so bright
Rejoining each of us—the broken-hearted 

To him my sorrows lay 
And fall into the arms of strangers' trembling spine
As light and pain fall gray
Twas there they grayed and blended with the rain
Twas there they grayed and blended with the rain
Twas there they grayed and blended with the rain 

Details | Analogy Poem | |

WHEN I LOVE THEE

I LOVE THEE I am no voluptuous beauty nor do I live a life of purity I can only say: I love wholeheartedly with all I am so truthfully I keep my heart open though it gets hurt so often I avoid to be irate as I know love changes the heart rate.. Guys tried to coo and woo, they say words as for "only you" Yet, hard to believe it is true as I see some untrue I give chances as my heart marks with tact entrances I learned from various instances looking man in romances In places where rules impede, two persons who wants to bid Not of money but of affection, in them must be determination I love thee not of what you have… Not even of who you are but to how you are to me… If I love you, don't tell me much what to do… As me, myself will show you, I am that real and true.. Yes, I am liked by many but tell you what: I don't like this honey nor am I proud of it in anyway One is enough to make me stay Stand with me through it all, I give my best not to fall My name your sweetest call echoing in every wall.. Hold me firm yet dear; allow me to move closely We'll make it anyhow, treading smoothly on flows... We are strong, aren't we? No one moving alone Together we'll face phases in tune, though there will dunes.. © OLIVE ELOISA D. GUILLERMO 3:25 pm, 07/13/2013 CONTEST: ANY POEM GOES #13 SPONSOR: POET DESTROYER 8TH PLACE (TO GOD BE THE GREATEST GLORY)

Details | Analogy Poem | |

You are THE EYES OF THE WORLD

You, poet, poetess...
ARE THE EYES OF THE WORLD!

Now that I've got your attention... let's sail to avenues where few too many 
cooks infuse attitutudes, burn britches in the kitchen.
Let us wave banners and quake fault lines of the masses, generate public 
interest bigger than entering contests, so the future wins as we arrest eye 
sights of their asses.
 
We've got something special in here; everyone sharing and caring and staring 
at screens like queens stare in the mirror. Hey, I've got an idea dear, rather 
it's more like a scattered ideal, real rednecks call "Idears, ya' hear!" 

So put down yir' sweet tea, turn off Duck Dynasty and come fly with me. 
We've got a whole generation of people sleeping through myriads of poetic 
songs. I contest we kick 'em in the ass with something true, something 
strong. 

We've got a beautiful community begging to be read. But right now, the only 
ones reading are those who should be writing instead.

We need to reach out, feed the needy, there's so much to teach. We are at 
the beginning of something huge, but I need YOU to see there's a universe to 
reach.

Look in the mirror, understand where you stand...
---------------
Note...
This stage could be HUGE!!! Poets are the last line of defense. But, here we 
are limiting our song, SARDINES IN THE TIN. 
We must think bigger, and 
generate vibrations for the whole world to see. 
Poetry is so much more than a club.

WE ARE THE EYES OF THE WORLD! 

There is no communication more true than this....what we live, what we give, 
what we do--- It's up to me and you!

Details | Analogy Poem | |

Tongue Study

Tongue Study 4/22/2014


Tongue Study

Steady it wags
needing to know
more,about the
the very thing that
causes wars.
peace and pain
I study my tongue.
Much has been said
about the tongue yet
how has it pertained
to my own.
My tongue has delivered
and served,it has given
and taken,it has blessed,
it has cursed.
It has been written
and it has been SAID.
the tongue can be tied,twisted
curt,sweet,sharp,wagging or
bragging.

It may be your
native tongue
or foreign,it may be
exciting or boring.
If quiet is your tongue
the cat may have it.

If you use your
tongue to speak ill
of the dead you may,
challenge a force and
be cursing your life's course.

The tongue's confession's
may sweep out
dirty secrets from the
corners of your mind.

Wise words have fallen on death
ears, words smothered by pride.
truth escaped lying eyes.
Ignoring what you saw and
twisting what was heard.

Tongues may bond
with imbeciles or angels
forming positive
or negative energy.

Be careful,mind your tongue
it is closes to your own ears
and will affect you first,rather
before the others hear.

Be not at the mercy of 
an imbecilic tongue
read their eyes
and duck the darts
about to be thrown. 

Do not despise the
foreign tongue
for it is the aptitude 
of the brain, the tunnel
to his bilingual do not
expect the champions,
to cater to the dunce,
who can barley
master his own tongue.

In general I have concluded
weather you live by the sword or
stand on principals, I had to
learn to manage my tongue
as I would a loaded gun.

I will not justify my tongue
when I use it's power for wrong
and neither hold my piece,
to placate the sword of the unjust..
the real power is in
the righteousness
of the spoken tongue..

For those who live by
the sharp and sworded tongue
and wield words as death
blows to the innocent,
or those who are silent,
while others suffer
May also die
by the mighty tongue.
or by the holding of it.

Details | Analogy Poem | |

The Clown


The Clown a living metaphor of what you see and who it is Still learning to make a funny face to walk differently to perform before an audience A juggling fool with worn out socks in waiting for an applause to satisfy a world of melanchony delirium,and expectations Wearing the big black shoes bigger than it's being Keeping balance of the imbalance to nurture hungry mouths that survive on half a planet or what is left To feed human shadows which await the big blushed nose and stretched out lips Which await the mask that veils turmoil and pain The Clown with a spirit to live and a heart to die is back in full circus Splashing colours on shades of grey The Clown a living metaphor A tear away from its ownself The heterozygote twin in the mirror of my mortal smile is back in town and coming out to play. A revised repost Written 22/04/2012

Details | Analogy Poem | |

The Merry Go Round of Earth

One half is submerged in light,
the other in darkness.
Half says goodnight and the other
tugs the harness.

Kids climb backyard trees tinged
with school bus yellow.
As lovers play hide and seek
in the nighttime meadow.

Training wheels lay abandoned -
youthful eyes bear cornea confidence.
The silver spokes whistle through copper leaves -
once in a lifetime decadence.

August stars say their last farewell
in glorious beelines.
Whilst wrinkled fingers grasp the moon
in delicious daytime.

A woman dressed in white walks down the aisle -
her father proudly flaunts.
As a preacher recites Scripture at a funeral:
The Lord is my shepherd I shall not want...

A newborn's laugh lights the whole world up
with effortless ease.
Whilst a pair of liver-spotted legs
unbuckles its knees.

One takes the first step -
the other reaches the end of the line.
One is a wealth of wisdom -
and the other is a gift divine.

Tiny toes to caress the sand,
ashes to sprinkle in the sea -
as if Nature itself has read aloud
Ecclesiastes Three.

Details | Analogy Poem | |

Red Moon

April 15th
and taxes are due. . . 
is there a blood moon
or just a lot of people
seeing red today?

Details | Analogy Poem | |

Water Wall


As he slept in tranquil dream, 
Suddenly he flew, it seemed. 
Thrown and landing on the floor, 
Shaking walls and splintered doors. 

Just as quick, the room grew still. 
Distant tremors he could feel. 
Out the door, and up the rock, 
There he stood in sleepy shock. 

How could oceans disappear. 
Then a hissing he could hear 
And a trembling, heavy roar 
Headed for an empty shore. 

Sunrise turned a greenish hue, 
As he climbed, a better view. 
Seeming far too large, he saw 
What must be a water wall. 

Thought of ancient stories told 
Of a wrath that could unfold; 
Sucking oceans with a breath, 
Spewing endless waves of death. 

Instinct quickly cleared his mind. 
Panic now, he clawed and climbed. 
Up, despite the screams he hears, 
As a village disappears. 

Once an evil came to call, 
Scooped them up and took them all. 
Now he's old, his stories wane, 
Of the morning Satan came.


Gene Bourne 
08-18-14


.

.

 

Details | Analogy Poem | |

SURVIVAL IN THE MIDST OF IGNORANCE

My prayers are not asking you to
 
save me from my enemy.
 
My children have turned their backs.
 
They praise dance with many
 
Adversaries-
 
When they need be refuking,
 
protesting and rebuking.
 
Among-st those who fight against me-
 
be my offspring.
 
I fear not the man who
 
I already know to be the beast
 
While my eyes follow my historical foe:
 
Those created in my womb,go
 
behind my back sign treaties with known
 
enemies
 
Chiding our valuable place in history. 
 
They do not want to know how they got here-
 
They do not care.The nature 

of the beast consumes them.
 
Eyes full of temptations we 

kept their butts covered,
 
and gave them what we could never have.
 
Instead of gratitude they give us latitude  
 
we cannot reach them.
 
They love the enemy, like a favorite pet-
 
Stroking the dog and biting
 
the hand that feeds them wisdom.
 
We walked miles with no shoes -
 
Prayed for our families-
 
Now our families-prey on us
 
With every thing handed to
 
them through the struggle;
 
Our children render our efforts
 
useless and in vain.
 
Vanity be thou sanity 
 
Consuming life from 

the top shelves in cafe's...
 
Thinking non -sober thoughts-
 
Who knows why we now be despise.
 
Deaf are their ears when they hear our names;
 
Holding us accountable, For the shame. 
 
Never ready for the change.
 
My prayer now is;
 
God save me from my people:
 
The joy that settled in my
 
accomplishments is now
 
unsettled disappointment,
 
disturbing !
 
They want to have 

their cake crumbs
 
and eat them too.
 
Save us from the

 disgrace of how they
 
discount all we've sacrificed - 

We made it through
 
and we have shown our 

strength against all odds
 
How now they praise-

dance with the enemy
 
They drink no more 

from separate fountains
 
Never sat in the balcony-
 
never knew the colored section;
 
Never stood on buses.
 
Those of us who never found a soft
 
place to land in the concrete jungles;
 
 have lined your bottoms with cushion's
 
from the sacrifices and suffering we
 
endured.
 
Watching you again discount us as you
 
leave us to the ridicule of your own judgment.
 
As you praise dance with those
 
who aspire to see your detriment.
 
Never before have so many brave elders
 
have had to watch their own children rob
 
them of their glory and dignity.
 
Even an imbecilic knows when he's better off.
 
That's the sad difference between an
 
slow learner and a fool.
 
A fool never cares nor takes responsibility..
 
The slow learner finally learns.
 
And is delighted to be enlightened.
 
Where the fool continues
 
to waddle blissfully in his own ignorance -
 
Resenting all who shed light on the
 
error of his ways....
 
Those who have his best interest -
 
Become his stumbling block.  
 
Difficult now for them to blame others;
 
With bright lights shining on stupidity--
 
We give them proof-
 
blinded and overwhelmed
 
by the truth-they are not interested our story
 
Never realizing that while their
 
stubborn heads were buried-in the sand.
 
We still have to stand-- guard
 
over their protruding azzes 
 
Until my children have learned  
 
where they fit in on earth,
 
and what they are truly worth
 
they will continue " Praise-
 
Dancing" with the enemies
 
They will continue to be as eaglet's
 
flapping around the yard ,
 
clucking with the chickens...
 
never soaring-never getting off the ground
 
Bewildered by our "diminutive etymology":
 
The Elders and The Ancestors;
 
We look dumbfounded,and mutter....
 
"Where did we go Wrong" ?
 

Details | Analogy Poem | |

Flame

If sorrow cloaks the surface of your soul 
And chills the warmth that turns your wishes cold, 
Unchain the hidden anguish in your hold,
Releasing tethered truths that must be told. 

Your clever wisdom, once conceived as real, 
So blinded you to feelings kept concealed. 
Inducement starts when you at last repeal 
The law you self imposed, a false ideal. 

Beginning chapter one you sense a start. 
Ahead we veer, adjust and reembark. 
In time the doubts will pass, from our concern, 
Devotion grows in knowledge two must learn. 

A flaming passion, uncontrolled, will die.
Insightful ones will dodge the seering light.
The quantity is not where truth abides,
The quality is where forever lies.



Gene Bourne
08-15-14





.

Details | Analogy Poem | |

Sometimes

Sometimes I am happy, sometimes I am sad.
Sometime I sing, sometimes I stammer

Sometimes I dance on the music of my soul, Sometimes I dance on the fingers of 
one single person
Sometimes I expect so much from others; sometime I myself can’t meet my own 
expectations.

Sometime I make fun of others and feel bad later, sometimes life makes fun of me 
and I smile
Sometime I win and sometimes I lose, sometimes I don’t even understand whether I 
won or lost.
 
Sometimes I laugh as if whole world is with me,
Sometimes I cry as if I am alone wandering in a strange land

Sometimes I give up so easily
Sometimes I work so hard that no one can stop me to achieve what I want

Sometimes I am dynamic person, who wants to change the world,
And sometimes I am a kid who expects anyone to embrace him tightly.

Sometimes I feel happy about the achievement of my enemy
Sometime I feel dejected with my own success.

Sometimes I help others and show them the right path
Sometimes I feel totally helpless and don’t know where to go

Sometimes I ask god to please give my past back
Sometimes I pray to show me the way forward


Life is composed of SOMETIMES and I just flow with that.
U admit or not but you are also sailing on the same boat.
So join me and enjoy it EVERYTIME as SOMETIMES life is very short!

Details | Analogy Poem | |

OK

There's no light in my eyes
faded for so long, i cannot see the hope
that was once there long ago.
as these tears fall, all i can do
is look around, i cannot
hear the sounds of your voice
coming through.

But i'll be OK
please don't try to follow me
it's not safe to go alone
there are things you shouldn't see.
i'll be OK
i know you must hate me
just give it some time
someday you will be fine
just know that i'm all right.

my soul grows cold like this tomb stone
the darkness always falls, pitch black
now i am all alone.
and as i fade, i guess i'll cease to be
nothing left inside i have died
so you could breathe.

But i'll be OK
please don't try to follow me
it's not safe to go alone
there are things you shouldn't see.
i'll be OK
i know you must hate me
just give it some time
someday you will be fine
just know that i'm all right.

in my dying breathe
the air rushing from my chest
i guess there's nothing left, no parting
shots no more time for arguments.
looks in your eyes, i know you'll
leave me now. our time has just
run out. our time is over now!

But i'll be OK
please don't try to follow me
it's not safe to go alone
there are things you shouldn't see.
i'll be OK
i know you must hate me
just give it some time
someday you will be fine
just know that i'm all right.
just know that i'm all right....

Details | Analogy Poem | |

Mesmerizing Butterfly - enamoured soul

Tropical quadra plateau, Amazing bright sunny,
Glided waterfall Carrying happiness in their gunny.
Long nodding flower's joyously plumed,
Everbody waving happily, the herald bloomed.
Eureka, I love this heaven on earth!

Hazy perished hills, houses trenching at the outskirts,
Swaning over to the fluctuating peak of mountains, roosted with struts.
Orchid waftured, Clinging on to the cluster of flowers,
Precipitated rain was about to shower.
Gosh, it Stimulated my soul!

King of beast, sucking the sweet tempting fragranced juices,
Solitary alienate species including Honey bees mused badly abuses.
Fluttered wings, Struggling with them, Leisurely travelling my journey.
Fitnessed physically as if I am in an defensing army.
Situation turned to be  horribly muddle,
Tremendously, I wanted to sort and excitedly cuddle!

Proud to have an Airfoiled wings of mine,
Antennate feature you prissily shine.
Rainbowis passion lying inside me,
Resourcefully mingled with music and dance, happening besides me.
Whoa,People got entranced!

People jeopardize the innate beauty,
Relishingly wanna do my duty.
Actuating my arms, Ventured to fly high.
Intended inspiration wanted to reach the sky.
Weaving the web spiderman thirstily trying me to catch.
Escaping from them I ran, prevented myself from getting snatched.
Ohhh,They had a Hostile faction accord!

Nature's beauty aspiringly propelled me.
Blowing wind, tactily sensisizing my skin,
Blushing cheeks, spilled the bean.
Nocturnal creatures will wake in the dark,
Aerophilically dangling around the shruby bed,before they bark
Stopping by sayonara, continuing my next  stigmatic destiny!

By Madhavi.Suyog.Pagare


Details | Analogy Poem | |

Seasons of Life and Death

Under the care of sun and rain
My leaves have unfurled
My buds have burst forth
My own will has been done
This was my beginning
Through the seasons
Spring brought me to life
Summer grew me to new heights
The fall must come sometime
The frost will encase my barbs
And I will return to meditation
Waiting patiently for my rebirth
For your light to peek through clouds
Your moon to hold me within night
When spring returns...
I will dance in the wind
A never ending flower

Details | Analogy Poem | |

Mirror Ball

I'm sure this hill is where it stood.
Amazing shapes of stuccoed wood.
A glass-brick, neon stream-lined place.
As if it flew from outer space,

A swing band auditorium,
An Art Deco emporium,
When romance, innocent in pace,
From dancing to a teasing chase.

The town grew west in modern haste
And down it came, without a trace.
The war and culture's change in taste,
Predestined doom, the past erased.

The future sighs, with solemn face
The wrecking ball, the glittered waste
No plaque to read "Historic Sight".
The swirling dust, a dance goodnight.


Gene Bourne
08-01-14








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Details | Analogy Poem | |

I Saw You Amongst the Wild Horses -part 1-

As you know, dear one
I border emotions that perhaps are an enigma to you
You look up to me at times with the highest respect
When you and I both know we are leveled 
I dedicate to you a speech above the most precious jewels
My words surely don’t climb among or above the highness of great
But I can tell you straight—I am proud of my feelings
I am proud to have you here on earth with me
You know, when I wrote those words, joyous bells began to ring
I heard them in harmony, for they agreed
Indeed, I had the council of music in meeting
And we all averred that you are a part of me—a rare ligament that I truly cherish 
For years you have devoted yourself
Fearing that someday I may leave your side
Oh my sweet, beloved friend—how I have!
I do not wish to degrade you—forgive me!
Allow me to further explain
I have left many times from the comfort of your embraces
Blinded by the enigmatic pangs I so desperately conceal
But these moments of solitude allow me to candidly feel
And as I have said—I am proud of my feelings
For they have led me straight to the epiphanies I shall now reveal:

I saw you amongst the wild horses—amid the paragon of temperament
Their nostrils flared at a presence; like confused soldiers, their eyes darted about
I was crazed into fear that I would be founded out
In meadows near from grasp of humanity
You fled but kept me in eyesight
Wondering and wandering—nearly touching the brink of my world
The bells drew you near—for they were apples to your eye
My laughter reached the highest height
You knew that I was not jeering you
I was delighted by your phantasmagoric magnificence!
The majority grazed on
But your dreams were meant for me to hold
At least only for a little while
For in the bells of laughter and music we were one
Cantering all the more closer to the sun
We felt not the burn, but the warmth of friendship
As life flew on in its graces and disgraces
We drew ever nearer
And soon—as was inevitable—
We felt the sear
As you were familiar with them, you took it like a god
And longed—from me—to take it
Instead I concealed the flame
Because the tame are accustomed
To chastisement, fear and incentive

Details | Analogy Poem | |

Time -part 1-

Tragedy is never a sentiment for Time For it is a phenomenon she merely sees She pours forth abundance for all that behold her Even for those of us that scold her And for naught she was cursed from the beginning There she is—interminable Time at the fullest! And we all envy her ever-ringing constancy She rules over our hearts Keeping stress in our spirits Not once does she feel sorry for us Nor is she indifferent of our failures She begs not for gratefulness And accepts who she is with joy! How ample we would be if we Like she—were free of trepidation If only we be like her waters—clear and visible from top to bottom Filled with untainted approval What fools we must seem to such a pure jewel as Time But ah, she is both heartless and kind And though we hate her peculiar aura Oh how hard it is do tear her from our minds! How stressfully beautiful Time is! Like a wink of venerated bliss She smiles and smiles And our ironical faces feel like grime Still she laughs in mirth While the world becomes a ball of putrid hatred Wanting more and more of her And positively hating her We that cannot see her began to hate For we are as visible and low as can be And we acknowledge her merely to insult her Though she takes no pang to the chest For the only gifts we give in return for herself are pangs That she simply returns to each sender Hidden is our pride But ever placed Ever unhidden Is our inscrutable mortality And this humiliation of our unchangeable fates Makes us want to humiliate the more fortunate Thus we regard her only as a concept As a fraction of a belief—a bellowing ideal For of course Time cannot in our honey-glazed eyes Think, eat, drink or feel We use her—yes! Even abuse her Not once will she complain For her gift is everlastingness