Best Exhalations Poems


Little Fire

I witness you fading away,
The winds blow frantically
They are against us, as all are

Little fire, rise in my cupped hands
Be it my life I shield from the elements so unfeeling?

Little fire, brighten as I feed you
This moisture receding from my pores must cease
Before I drown this diminishing beauty

I gasp,
Surprised at the howls and retorts of this icy tempest
Nature’s exhalations mean to end what must naturally end
My hands shake
Little fire—my life!
—I must keep you alive!

Grow against all odds
Against the screaming whirlpools of bluster
Against the torrential tears that mean to overcome you
Against the ashes that can only watch the desolation around you,
As you search for more fuel to masticate

My flesh is no treasure to me,
So lick me deep, my flame
Devour these hands that shield you
Rise hastily, as you burn
 Ascending up my arms,
Lighting every goosebump, shriveling every hair
Rise till I am all aflame in this wilderness
Boil and evaporate every murderous tear—
The fluids of sorrow that so pulverize purpose
Eat through every sinew, and every tissue,
Every muscle and every bone that has grown
 For this moment and this moment only

I give you every piece of me, little fire!
So that my spirit, finally free, shall rise to the heavens
Past the shrieking winds, preceding through the jeers of thunder
I give you my all, blessed fire!
So that these eyes may witness every storm die 
And I may laugh at their futility!
Categories: exhalations, courage, death, fire, growth,
Form: Dramatic Monologue

Premium Member Take Me To Your Heart

I am a captive in your sensitive and sensuous heart,
a palace of poetic and fragrant seductions
that slips veils of sexy silken secrets along my spirit's skin
and I desperately follow your sweating soul into the wilderness
that surrounds your fertile femininity, 
we kiss in moments of heightened exhalations
and then we run and play further, to the edges of your paradise
discovering together how love tortures us
and why we need it so,
feeling the bindings of love's fire
around our bodies, we demand more
give it to me tighter, hotter, faster
press this love closer to my rage and wisdom
whip me with the leather braids of love's lessons,
care for my living bruises with lips that heal
bite my masculine will
with teeth that have carved beauty out of misery,
dig your nails into the thighs of my excitement, 
hold me as I paint the wings of your heart my Love -

This poem was originally posted on New Year's Day, 2016 for the woman I love,
I hope the powers that be understand...J.A.B.
Categories: exhalations, love, lust, pain, paradise,
Form: Romanticism

Premium Member Los Angeles

After we met
I thought we really had something,
Really hit it off.
It wasn’t the words we spoke,
The easy fluorescent trail they made.
Maybe it was the Japanese lantern
Glowing over your bare shoulder
Or the smile you threw
To the side- 
To someone.
Or maybe it was the cool damp air,
Slight seduction of rain
But no rain.
Perfect, cool molecules,
Layer on layer,
Air sitting on air.

But after, I couldn’t find you.
I couldn’t find you
In the heavy-sitting valleys,
Behind the cool barriered hedges
With stone guard dogs,
In the palm shadowed boulevards
Or the canyon mazes.
I couldn’t find you
In the final exhalations of space,
On sun baked, cracked cement plaza drives.
I couldn’t find you
In the starkly lined avenues
Amongst the serious-expressioned manikins.

It really is a desert here, huh?
Had said the pale cheeked waiter from Wisconsin
While we waited for you to come back.
Yes, I thought, touching the sweating water glass.
A stage set in a desert
Filled with mirages and promises
And doors that no one answers
And roads that curve toward the sun.
We both knew you weren’t coming back.

I won’t find you again
But I will keep looking
And looking
And looking.
There is always that chance.
Yes, to find someone like you.
That chance.
I leave alone,
Tip under plate.
A dog barks at my steps,  
Waits, barks again.

We are both close, 
Yet impossibly, 
Far from home.
Categories: exhalations, longing, love,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Where Echoes Hide

Negativity echoes in the distressed mind
Crashing like Tsunami waves with beatings well timed

I am no good...                                I am no good...

I am no good...                                I am no good...

Words echo in my mind!                   Words echo in my mind!

Negativity echoes in the distressed mind
Crashing like Tsunami waves with beatings well timed

I am no good...                                I am no good...

I am no good...                                I am no good...

No inner peace can I find.                 No inner peace can I find.

Empty recesses , amplify  tunes of abuse
Allowing discordant echoes in a mind obtuse.

What's wrong with you?                    What's wrong with you?

What's wrong with you?                    What's wrong with you?

I ask myself                                     I ask myself

I ask myself                                     I ask myself

Empty recesses , amplify tunes of abuse
Discordant  exhalations in a mind obtuse.

Words echo in my mind                    Words echo in my mind

Words echo in my mind                    Words echo in my mind


Negativity echoes in the distressed mind
Crashing like Tsunami waves with beatings well timed
Empty recesses, amplify  tunes of abuse
Discordant exhalations of a mind obtuse.

Change the channel! Do it now! Before you die inside!
Don't allow negativity to grow in the hollows of your mind
because...
That's the place where malevolent echoes hide.


December 09,2015
Categories: exhalations, abuse, anxiety, child abuse,
Form: Rhyme

Dreaming In Ink

Acquiesced amongst gypsy stardust,
      dance of aroused blissfulness 
 knees went weak mid a zealously flirtatious
   sunset, as skies intensity was enraptured
      mid fierce moonbeam's caressing zeal, 
fulfilling a wickedly wild aching surrender
      within ardor's aroused captivation,
enthralling enchantingly obscure sunrise
   sensations of endmost satiated fervency,
  shorelines met heavens verve
     breathless in exhalations' celestial passion,
 chanted to the gods 'tween fiery escapism
     risen above darkly inclined constellations,
        'til consummated resplendence of night
            burst forth in explosive exaltation
              dreamt of ink's splendiferous poetry
© Paloma P   Create an image from this poem.
Categories: exhalations, allegory, dance, dream, passion,
Form: Imagism

Premium Member Swans

A pond quivers in demure gusts,
cygnets of morning light undulate 
with lithe ripples.  Winter thaws,
the sun arcs over feathered rainbows 
as ice sculptures bevy like water lilies
on April's frigid cobalt.

In abrupt squall webbed feet prance 
on a mirror, capturing saffron exhalations 
of rapt poppies, a wild umbrella splayed 
like tumultuous cumulus, ending a reflection 
of snow angels promenading 
in boundless cerulean.
Categories: exhalations, bird, flower, nature, spring,
Form: Free verse


Premium Member Nineseventeenpm

As the second hand ticks away my breaths
a half-clad moon catches my eye.
Was a time when I might've seen
the ghost of half-eaten melon,
but I'm older now, my thoughts less spry.
Dark fear's hobgoblins
were long since relegated
to memory's chuckle drawer;
open windows to warm nights ease my mind.

I must shave and write.

Neither seem as pressing
as the once hormone-inducing prance
in distant starlight,
the hot exhalations of desert air.
Nor do creased page corners
to detective thrillers and t.v.'s prattle
beckon hours with purpose.
I'm the insouciant sentry
at castles in retirement,
the dragon minus annoying fire.
Crows no longer pick eyes of the dead
in picture frames on paneled walls.
My shoes don't guardedly tread 
engineered woods of perfection. 
Aging brings a basset hound,
graying around the nose,
laying placidly on the rug.

I'll get to tasks eventually.
For now I commune with the moon,
allowing my mind the idyll 
of a worn desk in a cluttered room
and the dulcet laze in lyrics of night birds 
serenading summer's first hours.

6/19/18
Categories: exhalations, age, retirement,
Form: Free verse

Sanctuary of Obscurity

Dare one impose upon the primitive soul,
Revolving around solitude—a savant hold warmer than the sun
Entranced by every ideal—loving many and no one
Would they hesitate to break the sensational sway…
As petals of tiger lilies fall upon its sunset eyes
Tremulous sighs and exhalations—dedicated to wisdom
Looking to the sky…a vast wilderness of celestial light
Fixated in the center of star-drafted darkness
The wheel of its heart turns smoothly
Oiled with only the finest knowledge
With brutal truths seeping into the empty spaces

Not even the most charming can break its stance
Feeble smiles melt away into frustrated admiration
For not one could dare embark upon her spirit
Without looking first deep within himself
Tearing apart the pride that so recklessly razes
Ensnaring all that behold him
All but one

Had one selflessly walked into the midst of this fraction of heaven,
He would watch faithfully a sunrise on the legs of endurance
And the embracing, smiling arms of patience
If one only left their guard for the Sanctuary of Obscurity
The skies of white light upon dark would open in reverence
The lips that are so fixated upon moist discovery
Would have their gentle hold on mortal purity
To allow such a moment to exist,
Kindheartedness must coexist 
And hovering humility harnessed deep in vicious sincerity
Categories: exhalations, blessing, deep, giving, growth,
Form: Free verse

The Other Day

I went down by the river 
just the other day 
I sat on my favorite granite 
as I gently caressed a kyanite 
I listened to white rushers 
splash against steel grey rocks 
I graciously engulfed the refreshing 
mist from below 

Now,

Deep,

Deep inhalations 

Then restorative exhalations 

A peaceful calm is found 
A radiant ray coyly appeared 
through the pines 
Now sweet melodies of Georgia 
are on my mind
Categories: exhalations, appreciation, beautiful, blessing, earth,
Form: Imagism

Premium Member Heart of Another

Because love yearns and in its yearning
searches each sunrise and sunset
to find another, to join in timeless beauty
to find a warmer glow... gleaned from a lonely heart
when a pause comes,  from a welcoming smile
and emotions express exhalations
from every pulsating passion that love pursues
with its deepest gnawing hunger
        when its orbs look deep 
into the unscared landscape of innocent dreams
that invite a warm breathless kiss
exposing vulnerability,  wrapped in the hands of comfort
when lovers walk in secured silence
across the winding wishes of wanted wonder
leaving their fading footsteps
to lay lightly on the dusk of their traveled days
when they never looked away from their horizon
filled with sunrises and sunsets
from the day love's yearnings were filled
in a pause, from a smile
         from the heart of another who also yearned
to find love's timeless beauty


4/30/18 contest Free Verse on Love
Categories: exhalations, love,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member I Remember You

As the crimson sun crawls to my farthest horizon
and soft dew spills from the shadows
under the curled rose petals of my years
     I remember you
the joyous times of exhalations
that shone bright like a sun's ray
which split the dark hanging cloud of my existence
to give me a glorious glowing time of dreams
which still washes across my memory
from the deep passion of your eternal soul
of red-painted skies wrapped in awe and wonder
which held our hearts captive
like trembling fawns hidden in the lush meadow of love
    we once knew
until the world turned dark and carried you away
without notice or concern
leaving me to quietly whisper goodbye
to the precious love who gave my tears their worth


3/14/20
Categories: exhalations, loss, love,
Form: Free verse

An Ice Fishing House, Abandoned, in Need of Repair

An Ice Fishing House, Abandoned, in Need of Repair

That same shed waits
by the trees.
Waits on its skids
for the lake to freeze,
and the for the creaking 
joints of bickering 
stoop-shouldered men
as they push it out to the center
of a pool of glass.
It houses the stories of fishing
in winter, pulling sustenance, 
wriggling, through chiseled 
portals into another realm.
Old men would wait 
like death, slow,
their breath 
turning to steam
until they could abduct 
their prey from the world below.
Trout would flop 
with the thickness of a muscled fist,
striking ice like distillery rage unhinged. 
They would twist and corkscrew,
mottled black and silver slapping 
the frozen pane of the lake,
waiting for suffocation to take them, 
as the old men drifted up in 
the steam of twice-warmed coffee,
and the willow-the-wisp exhalations
of ribald stories, retold, and finally forgotten.
Categories: exhalations, environment, father, fishing, humanity,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member In the Small Hours - Wole Soyinka

Blue diaphane, tobacco smoke
 Serpentine on wet film and wood glaze,
 Mutes chrome, wreathes velvet drapes, 
Dims the cave of mirrors. 
Ghost fingers
 Comb seaweed hair, stroke acquamarine veins
 Of marooned mariners, captives 
Of Circe's sultry notes.
 The barman
 Dispenses igneous potions ? 
Somnabulist, the band plays on.

 Cocktail mixer, silvery fish
 Dances for limpet clients. 

Applause is steeped in lassitude, 
Tangled in webs of lovers' whispers
 And artful eyelash of the androgynous.
 The hovering notes caress the night 
Mellowed deep indigo ?still they play.

 Departures linger.
 Absences do not 
Deplete the tavern.
 They hang over the haze
 As exhalations from receded shores.
 Soon
, Night repossesses the silence, but till dawn
 The notes hold sway, smoky
 Epiphanies, possessive of the hours.

 This music's plaint forgives, redeems 
The deafness of the world.
 Night turns 
Homewards, sheathed in notes of solace, pleats
 The broken silence of the heart.
 
 - Wole Soyinka -
© Joseph May  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: exhalations, heart,
Form: Verse

Last Bell.....

Man, I remember the thrumming of that last bell of the school year.....
Like a prisoner being furloughed into the warm sun, buzzing of grasshoppers.
Field stickers burrowing into your ankles, joyfully, while you take the wrong way/long way 
back.
The sound of whispering gold as your armplane wings dislodge future assaulters of ankles.
I always liked sighs in the summer.....those sweet drones were the tones of freedom.
In the distance you hear Shirley scream as Brad tells EVERYBODY she likes Ralph...
You knew you should be gettin' home, but, confound it, this one brief moment was yours. 
Eternal.
There was a sound, like a shell to the ear, of all you had learned, escaping as if under 
pressure.
To thwart it was to stop a tsunami with an umbrella.....ineffectual....unnoticed.
But, also vacant, was common sense; probably why I went Jake's way that day....
Oh, he was there, lurking...lying in wait for my almost clock-work arrival.
Many a day I had screamed a million insults at him as he chased me like Satan,
Hoping "today" wasn't the day he caught up with me.
His exhalations never sounded labored, as if he was letting me get ahead.....
But not today!!!!!.....I JUMP......He LUNGES......and his teeth gain purchase on my seat!!!!
However, I escape....My bottom, that much cooler than it was before and will probably be 
later!
........................
.........
.....
...
Home.......... you see mom in the kitchen, drinking sun tea and waiting for you to arrive....
"So, How was school?"..."Uh, fine, I guess."     "What did you learn today?"......."Uh, to never 
underestimate the value of Gym Class!!"......"Well," she says, "if you took home economics, 
you'd be able to fix up your pants before Dad gets home and sees your underwear!!"......

Parents NEVER respect an Adventurer's near-fatal exploits!!!
© Jim David  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: exhalations, adventure, childhood, funny, introspection,
Form: Free verse

Alcoholism

An opened fifth of hangovers
rests beside his dried driveled arm
(drug used by underachievers.)
Out cold, head resting on forearm
Unconscious in a dreamless world,
a portal often frequented:
an alcoholics netherworld
and mind most disoriented.
A parched throat forces arousal
And miasmic exhalations
rekindle once more pitiful
repeated, inebriation.
A morning swig begins his day
and ends the same as yesterday.
Categories: exhalations, addiction, drug,
Form: Verse
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