Thoughts Of U Poems - Poems about Thoughts Of U

"And my thoughts are all sensations" And my sensations are all my thoughts. The sun controls the moon, and the moon controls me. She said she was a she/they/we, and we just laughed. Not her we, just us. And my thoughts are all sensations, we'll only ever be as smart as your sun. But the sun controls the moon, and the moon controls we. You've...

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In the depths of silence, when I gaze into the unseen mirror of my thoughts, I wonder what it truly means to contemplate one's own nakedness, is it the absence of something that should be, or just an illusion of the mind? Reality is merely a spectacle unfolding before my eyes. It is here, right now, in every breath...

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Haunches and Paunches It’s strange to say, but people who sit on their haunches develop fat paunches but, say, isn’t it usually the other way? Definition Procrastination is a synonym for pure laziness without, however, the indecision of the former. Unhappy Do you wake up every day bereaved in sorrow, because yesterday passed away and today will tomorrow? Truism In the matter of sexuality men prefer promiscuity to unguarded adultery: the first allows...

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In the depths of the evening, where thoughts flow like rivers of trembling light, the sky stretches its amber arms, embracing silence in cloaks of dreams, and my steps are echoes of falling stars, dancing on carpets of time, for to be deciphered means to scatter your essence into unknown winds. I prefer to be a floating illusion on...

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Under the starry sky, where thoughts float like incense smoke in the deep night, I feel the shiver of fear, like cold water flowing over my soul, deep and silent, I just wish to stretch time, to embrace the moment like a wave kissing the shore, I feel the shiver of fear, my dear, and I just want...

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My old jeans menacing. Gold jewelry too. I have to feel the weird belt around my waist. And the bracelet that appeared somehow. Socks drying off. Changing color too. Nothing is as blue as a T-shirt. That has a tragic stain. I have to eat taco soup. Just ground beef and broth. A horrible thing....

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Truth be told I knew what it was When it was pushed to the back of “that” draw That place where cucumbers of thought turn to mush They once held value, that thought, that cucumber Yet somehow slipped from the consciousness of concern There will be no “oh, poor baby” recollections No prodigal thought reunions No recognition of what they might have...

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train whistle, a seldom heard sound, long and low this morning I wonder if this train is transporting people or cattle or people treated like cattle or cattle dressed like people...

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If all is of mind, then what are we doing? Physical life, is it worth pursuing? So discouraging, so immature, How can mere man, ever endure? The mind can think in such jubilations, Creative thoughts giving sensations. We rush to create, with no time to spare, No patience displayed; we do not dare. Take our time, uncertain as it seems, Let thoughts mature manifesting...

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organ organ grinder get out of here orange, you do not fit! Oregon ornate ornery stop it orangutan or I’ll give you something to cry about ordinary orthodox or what? Put up your dukes...

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Second Thoughts** Falling in love with someone you can never truly be with can be haunting. We hide behind filtered photos—wearing a smile, using body language as our shield. As poets, we feel deeply; we observe and express our emotions through the words we write. My heart is weary—so weary. (Elizabeth Browning) Our tone...

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He pays. He leaves. And she bleeds quietly. Some come for release, others for control. Some come to forget. Some to remember. Some to be punished. Some just come because it’s cheap. It's sin. It’s not sin. It’s survival. It’s escape. It’s addiction. It’s barter. It's bargain. It's need. It’s ritual. Here, bodies are commodities. Sold by the hour. Measured by the weight, age and colour of the skin, freshness of smile, limpness of resistance. It is commercialisation...

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Over tech connected; drawn to a life infected' The moot is now mute' bad is the fruit.) War on lies.? Square root..' Much belies.' I read divide..Divide.! Up to the truths, full inversion.' Hate will grow, to genocides full immersion.! ...

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Before Midnite dark night in new moon phase cloying coils of black satin mere shapes of surrounding buildings I am lost in my thoughts ...

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Buried in the depths of my soul is the unrealized hope of a full explanation Covered over by shovels full of doubt and thoughts regressed Brilliance which lost its edge from lack of use lies in a state of degradation Can hope with its own will stir once again the creative mind Bringing forth seeds of thoughts that demand...

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