Dormant Poems - Poems about Dormant

Expansive aspiration of effervescent incandescence disperses psychic plasma of primal spectrum, painting panorama of passion on the silken sky, the configured fascinating facsimile of mesmeric mental kaleidoscopic landscape, suffused with chromatic sublime sensitivity of exuberant ecstasy, blooms beguiled in seraphic color blast of floral spring. Implanted on parched pieces of mangled memory, draped by distress dust of cinnamon ground, heart desiccates to the...

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From the vast eternal ether, as the whipping tips of a raging flame, I emanate from eternity as a frequency, continually upgrading in knowledge, growing in wisdom, elevating in consciousness, vibrating as a light source. As agreed, I am thrust forth into a mountain like a blazing fire, subdued only by this vessel of blood...

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Their despise never trace me Free to every discerning eyes Ecstasy eloquent and dilute soft footstape asleep where Echoes of mountains ever climb Desertness solemn and wither Torrent rain who can feel When every moment dormant, wet Pulsate maroon inalive memories Forest cry deepen amidgreen Gild never touch arid surface Companion of endless and ephemeral Landscape never escape their shares always Dream dilemma shorten us Bustle of necessities dare Plaster...

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In the velvet shroud of night, where shadows whisper secrets and dreams lie dormant, My thoughts slip through the winding paths of memory and imagination, As I become accustomed to the darkness that envelops me. The deep, inky blackness that once stirred fear now cradles me in its quiet embrace, And I begin to see that the ghosts dwelling...

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Beneath the everyday attire, the spirit falls ill, dormant, In the monotony that seems an eternity of silver smoke, contingent. Boredom weaves its fabric between walls of flesh, walking dead, Many beings live this pseudo-existence, in slumbering cages. They slowly make their way to offices, in convoys of rusty machines, Immersed in the deep sea, where words become unwritten stones. They...

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I wrap my fingers around the pen which has lain dormant collecting dust for months on end feeling as if I'm lifting a fifty pound weight straining not just my joints but my brain, its neurons refusing to fire like the broken burner of a gas stove with a malfunctioning igniter fouling the air with noxious fumes as it fails to burst into blue...

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I’ve been breathing in the fumes of my existence and expectedness for some time now… Far too long because this thing I cannot place has had unending hold over me. I’ve been realizing things lately, and witnessing my own lies… That I tell myself to feel sane or rather inflict a false state of comfortability. These realized lies are...

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Trapped in my space suit Tied down to the launching pad Terrorized by the rocket Paralyzed to the surface The cold surface of my skin Basks in the judgmental sun Strapped in my race boot A dyed gown around my chest A hard place and a rock, it Seems I stand in perturbance Fervidness of my kin Tasks my legs to jump the gun My chest strains...

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A dormant seed sprouts with the spin of the seasons soft buds in the soul. ...

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I'm an ashen dove, fading in zephyr of wine valleys, saturating in fog upon enchanting hills, draped in grape-green silk, where fantasies of forest, sprout cynthia moon of a bygone medieval saga, amidst heavenly eventides, and wailing weeds prick my shadow, infusing iced intentions of the puppet's paradise~ floating in islets of shackled bones. My...

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how may we cope with a secret hope our disguised desire ego chose to so sire why then be in denial let us face the trial by fire...

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I love these chaotic moments where every teardrop leaves a letter in its wake empty words quiver on frozen lips free verse slips in a dash of warm and sweet and I turn into a fool feeling its ecstasy...

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But in the fact that it was barking trees The wind moving the tree branches in the night trees I felt compelled to sniff the summer lawn Compelled so to remembering my late nightly gatherings Where are the dandelions I want them greened ...

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How empty can an inbox possibly be? Not unlike a door..... practically off at hinges The paint is definitely peeling More than one shutter has fallen astray. One piece at a time Have you ever seen that? How old houses.... the shutters give way one slat at a time It's almost like watching a clock tick After 1 year the slat on...

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Dormant Desires Drinking dreamy desires in core of heart. Trying my best to fulfil dormant dreams. Endless earnest effort sure...

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