Best Peripherals Poems
Finally I've made it to paradise, surrounded by the sea
Tranquil blues in shadow, are what it's peripherals be
White buildings reflect the sun, an image I'll never forget
To watch our sun disappear, the most beautiful of sunsets
Whilst the night comes down, such beauty continues to be
My eyes now in capture, to the sight that confronts me
She stands in proud like stance, a lady unknown to thee
Tanned, so beautiful I witness, impressed my eyes do see
Torso shaped with black, white lace adorns it's low
It's the she that wears it's colours, that makes it's beauty flow
Hair of dark curls hang, like the "Gardens of Babylon"
Flavours of life emanate, my heart appears in throng
As I sit here in La Ola, on paradise by the sea
It's where I witnessed that girl in the dress, captured, I am thee
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/lorena-2.php
Categories:
peripherals, people, places, beautiful, beauty,
Form:
Couplet
within me, exists
an exterior peripheral
look at me, I'm free
.
Categories:
peripherals, allegory, beautiful, life, light,
Form:
Senryu
Together tethered to existence
we act upon our soul‘s insistence
to dare and dream to find…? What exactly?
**** the morning;
I sigh as I step into the shower.
Soon to be discarded dreams tug at my sub-conscious.
Another broken plot-line is lost,
the wildness of a night’s rest washed away alongside it‘s sweat.
Destined to die,
we spend our days as slaves
so we can spend our nights upon the couch.
Our individual everything’s
are infinite and insignificant;
a blade of grass that looms large above an ant.
**** work,
I sigh once more.
The subway’s dim, flittering lights
set the scene for my inner city journey.
This endless loop of mundane madness,
brings no love, no joy, or even sadness.
Churning numbers numbs my brain
and although a robot can’t feel pain,
blackness stirs inside an empty heart.
**** another lonely night,
I sigh again.
I sip my beer and smile,
finding comfort in nothing.
A witty sitcom shines in my peripherals,
**** the morning, **** work, and **** the night;
my drunken laughter explodes.
This long campaign has no reward;
no fat pay cheque, or love restored.
Life’s mundane nature now a perfect fit,
for those of us content to quit.
The tired soldier smiles as the bullet hits.
Categories:
peripherals, anger, career, life, lonely,
Form:
Free verse
I'm teary eyed as I enter the again
Throwing listening ears to no ones gain
Innocence of all now bearing the same pain
One wonders, shall it ever abstain
We read in the papers we see on the news
Bulleted missiles affect like they cruise
No longer does it matter whom they abuse
All of all now lie in amidst littered fuse
Roadside bodily attired devices born
Wanton deliberate turmoil is their storm
This is definitely no Children of the Corn
When one approaches, shall a cuddle adorn
Eyes never close others captured by light
Impressions of death whilst sight blights
Peripherals of demise so different from before
It's minus one against one, life's eventual score
Categories:
peripherals, anxiety, blessing, death of
Form:
Quatrain
The soul is dead in passing
The spirit lost its belonging
Running out of Ancestors peripherals
Last breath of thee, a gasp
Trees are throwing out branches
Thinking of a single brain
Diamond things hard to break none
“Too hard to pour”
“Too poor break”
Virgins in Attica
Singleton a mother of a *****-
Itching
Specifics specifying black or white
Simply extending his lips
Smiling less for laughter
Toys and spoken speeches of these
History, to tell his story
Tell his theory
Virgins in Attica
Widow falling to a window
Washing was what Washington?
Dreaming of America
But land on an African soil
New York City was city
She fishing dollars and gold-
Fireworks
Virgins in Attica
Kwa Mayimayi lets find strong a Medici’s
Medicine to behold the earth
Kwamhlab’ yalingana
The earth is not enough
Followed tracks of my roots
Heard no song though
He promised bundles of prayers
A land of milk, honey-
But a global warming watering none
Virgins in Attica
Finance marrying marriages
Love put aside for chemical tests
Chemistry of a super witch
Crafting specialties of art
Artist in Attica
Mother Mary gave birthing to a love child
I’m a bustard
Adam, Eve figuring out *****-
Virgins in Viagra
Virgins in Attica
She just a distraction
No expedient in experience
No feelings
No emotions
No last for lust
Virgins in Attica
THE TRENCHES : the pure truth so colorful, so to bring out the beast in a beast; philosophy, spirituality and dreams in priggish ways a fifth chapter.
Categories:
peripherals, myth,
Form:
Concrete
To gain insight about the world around,
I will eat the spores which sprout from the ground.
These fragments of feeling are so fleeting,
Which make up my entire being.
Knowledge or solace will surely be found.
Some new sensation will echo its sound.
In feeding the hunger, I’m all-consumed,
And still picking at my aging wounds.
Joy and agony are momentary creatures,
Details and lines in a portrait’s features.
Without my peripherals, context lost.
Focus turned inward toward abstract thoughts.
I find myself never lacking surprise.
Inspecting the world with blood-shot eyes
Categories:
peripherals, abuse, addiction, crazy, feelings,
Form:
Sonnet
As I flash through the books and screens,
The plots take me to new terrains.
I experience a world beyond the reality,
where every image might as well be a fantasy.
I see visuals within my peripherals.
Can it be a hallucination?
Could it be more than a daydream?
Or am I blinded?
Blinded by an extreme desire to indulge myself.
Immerse myself in the perfectly bendable world.
Comfort myself through the ease of a dreamer's imagination.
The temptations to stay within its boundaries are immense.
A slight wind of displeasure sends me running back to the circle;
The circle where I have established a routine;
The routine that created my safe haven;
The safe haven of solitude and freedom.
But is it really freedom?
The fear I am avoiding;
The fear I am so afraid to face;
Can I ever be brave enough to withstand it again?
My circle has a shield;
A shield that is as strong as my fear.
I know I have to break it.
Maybe I can.
Maybe, someday.
Categories:
peripherals, change, confusion, identity, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
Is it a look?
A fast sweep of skin, glistens by my peripherals
My head turns to follow the movement of my eyes;
blink
A billboard, read it; Top Three: Shifty Legs
(Paranoid, Impatient)
Crossed Arms
(Gated, Judgmental)
long Hair
(....Hair, long)
A quick glimpse of a cover that has already lost a leaf
...did Dickens write you?
blink
A released grasp of commentary is descending into the usual chatter of consecutive thoughts. Trifling, trailing, timid thoughts. Thoughts that travel; trumpeting turrets, taunting, trembling, teased lips bit; not wanting to utter suggestion:
Say hello. Say hello. Say hello.
As my eyes return to the gaze of contemplation before and my head with it. Chin rested on a hand that has missed the lingerings of another hand.
And here I sit
Hushed by the world by the outer skin, for the innards are loud and scratching. And with the most nonessential feel to return to the distraction, as of schedule; I dart back a glance to find a glance mirrored back.
...Is It a look?
Categories:
peripherals, introspection, people,
Form:
Blank verse
As a blood-red sun bleeds in the sky,
white cottony clouds absorb scarlet.
And a seductive silvery Moon;
bares Her skimpy slip like a harlot.
Jack-o'-lanterns decorate porches;
grim gargoyles guarding All Hallows' Eve.
And costumed children go door to door;
begging for treats, dressed in make-believe.
Sinister shadows seamlessly merge;
outside the peripherals of light.
And goblins gather in the darkness;
watching vampires and witches take flight.
Halloween ends as the clock strikes twelve;
but each moment heightens the tension.
For before then, ungodly things roam;
committing sins too vile to mention.
Dawn pierces the night sky like a lance;
announcing the birth of a new day.
And the jack-o'-lanterns flicker out;
having kept hell's hooligans at bay.
Categories:
peripherals, angst, children, fantasy, imagery,
Form:
Quatrain
Well now that you have gone and turned me on
I guess im now definitely going to be taking you home
Just know that i got to wake up early to mow the lawn
Because that was the only thing that rhymed in the poem
And the feeling i get whenever you catch my stare
Is like healing a secret with the passing of air
Whats the deal though you dont return my glare
You know what i want to steal it could never be fair
But by the end of this night ill have pillaged your village
And know that ill never stop pressing or keep you guessing
You have appealed to my picky liking baby ill be your viking
Oh and i hope you dont mind if i call you baby because im definitely not shady
But as im watching you drink that drink
Im starting to think
As my peripherals catch your movement
I want to savor the moment
But with the unfortunate passing of the everlasting time
This moment could never be lasting because its almost tomorrow
And the only thing that ive wanted more than time is for you to be mine
Because lady i dont mean to sound shallow
But you turn me on
Categories:
peripherals, passionbaby, baby, drink, me,
Form:
Rhyme
When the light turns to darkness.
Make sure you are by my side.
I see the demons lurking in my peripherals,
so I run and hide.
Still often I wonder about Heaven and Hell,
essentially we're all clueless.
In the end, I'm just hoping that Heaven prevails.
Tossing coins into wishing wells,
seeing if I can purchase eternal light.
With the world's sinful spite,
by the night Hell will likely be in sight.
This world is no glorious playground,
but you can surely fall and still end up with scars.
No helping hand given,
many will often thirst for your blood.
And attack as you float in a sea of despair
as if they were Jaws.
Speculate every flaw and paint pictures
of ridicule upon their mental walls.
It's hard to live for the cause of
peace, compassion, and unity.
So eventually we succumb
to the deep pitted desire of havoc.
Relinquish the inner evil in all of us
and display what we've kept hidden from the community.
The Wrath of Satan is similar to this Hell on Earth.
Cursed with birth,
we all wander through life trying to discover self-worth.
Often getting lost in who we try to become.
The enigma encoded in our DNA,
for many, is hard to decipher.
And for some,
the hidden code stems from the fangs of the venomous viper.
I guess that's the reasons for the snakes in the grass.
And the same reason why they slither beside you.
Smile in your face and bite you in the rear and laugh.
Nothing positive prospers from the proposed aftermath.
The constant dispute between love
and deception thrives like a heart infused with adrenaline.
Fuels the contemplation of choosing to love again.
Leaving trust estranged in the jungle of disparity.
Blurring your vision to the scarce benevolence
due to the lack of clarity.
Without the world's affliction,
love's essence wouldn't be a reminder that we're alive.
Upon all the world chaos that erupts in volcanic style.
You're the one that preserves my ability to smile.
When the light turns to darkness.
Make sure you're by my side.
Because eventually there will be nowhere to run and hide.
Categories:
peripherals, dark, light,
Form:
Rhyme
Memoir of a Real Nigga Time Travelor From a Proud and Silent Future.
A Monster seeding pre-grammatical,
Oscillating pivotals,
Octaves hit the matter I’ve created known perennial,
Posture spun the spineI I spat I knew would foster generals ,
Combusted thoughts/thots I waivered now the situations genitals,
I’m staying metaphysical,
cus if I don’t console my soul its metal to your physical,
I met the one we love above the 3rd that nurtured visuals,
Met her made her drizzle cus I meddled with her physical,
Meta grossing hella medals mentals poke centennial ,
Au revoir or Art of War I’m peace and me conditional.
Meet a maniac or two,
Meet an ani-maniac who kama sutras every tune,
With a flow that was dope like heroine residuals,
With a flow that was known like Moses in peripherals,
Who behold to the pope was heavenly habitual,
To the throne of plutonium-
colder than the absolute,
Nastier than karma su-
Faster than that thot you knew was coming for sabbaticals,
Passing conscious passive Pontius pilate was indebted to a flow so dope it’s known to choke the smoke inhaled in heaven tune.
In all of Hell and Heaven too.
I poured a potent bowl of 69 or higher residue.
Categories:
peripherals, black african american, black
Form:
Rhyme
I dont think its easy to grasp the concept of depression.
This is probably because it is not concrete, anchored, bound to one definition.
It pools around you ten feet tall before it enters your peripherals.
Completely unnoticed by its host for as long as it takes to fill a hamper, with the ocean.
Then depression sicks its sharks on you, showing only dorsal fins poking through the veil of 'normality'. Putting a gram on the other side of the scale, breaking balance, breaking you.
Slowly those sharks become serpants. Those serpants lick at your ankles, a facade of a friend.
They pull your legs together, dissembling a foundation, as they make their way up your legs. Around your chest they begin to constrict, pushing your lungs closer together like a long distance friendship never severed. Taking away the ability to breathe as you forget that you want to, breathe.
They whisper alternative facts, promising a better day soon, that this will not be 'forever'. But they never prevail.
The ten foor tower of water surrounding you begins to grow dark as you realize, yes, you are indeed depressed... again.
Those antidepressants, they worked so well you felt so completely normal and laughed without reason.
But you forgot.
You arent normal.
You forgot normal people dont ahve to take those little pharmecuticals to remain engulfed in serotonin. And on top of the reemerging depression, you forgot to take them.
So you sit on your bed with your knees drawn to your chest, hyperventilationg quietly as those familiar tears, stop by.
For three and a half hours.
You want to escape so so badly, but how can you escape your safe haven? When all you know to be comforting is, right next to you.
How can you, how can I be saved?
When will it be
O v e r?
Categories:
peripherals, anger, depression,
Form:
ABC
Caught up in life, in our peripheral we
Doors we enter, but do we actually see
Or does life's light, simply blind
A trait of us, human kind
These windows that attract
That can lure us eventually through
Is this luring on our radar
When feelings turn the screw
It's over a period of time
About bridges destroyed and rebuilt
Like the ebb and flow of the tides
To free us from life's silt
But it's these journeys of life that cut
When dialogue proved to be woven
Until we enter these doors of life
We'll never know our peripherals proven
Honesty of character, shows a halo touch
This other trait of human kind, I don't like so much
Categories:
peripherals, betrayal, life, lost love,
Form:
Rhyme
I will commence my intrepid journey
"tis my soul that I seek to find
Search for that elusive spirit
Interlock it with my mind
Be one and be one only
Within boundary have all my lot
No peripherals of my complete being
Contained as one in body, mind, and heart
I seek to achieve contentment
Euphoria of heavens kind
Dreams of paradise are only dreams
That a tangible Eden I find
Categories:
peripherals, happiness, hope, life,
Form:
Rhyme