Inhabited ether by disquiet waves invading metallic frames, sprinkling screens with colours and shapes mineral world where life craves for yet another load of precious beams soon to be devoured like sweet grapes
High astral body that spirits shelter surrounding the earth like a ring transcendent entity travelling from winter to spring running through time as it spins carrying words, thoughts, rebukes and grins immaterial rain pouring skelter
"transcendent entity traveling from winter to spring running through time as it spins"
I'm talking about a ball that spins. at the bottom you got summer, on top, winter. In between, you have forms of spring. And winter people send their posts to summer people at nine AM, and summer people receive them instantly, but it is 9 PM. And it it's real time. As you're going to sleep, I'm getting up. And while you sleep I think about what I'll tell you at breakfast. etc. And the "transcending entity" is that whole body of communicants over the spin of that ball. I'm just talking about Us.
One blue eye is piercing through my mind's shield while it's deploying poems, jokes, rubbish on the field of world wide pages to be seen by that eye akin whose deep thoughts from my spirit are concealed even though casting over it a bright light screen
A drop of rain on the back of a horse is like a good word to a mind willing to be fed If the horse is black, there's nothing else to be said. If the horse is white, we might discuss it with Mister Ed. hehehe
good morning to you all good hubbers like firmament stars glowing here and there one at a time, loosing time laces raising from different hours, different places legion of virtual bodies dancing in the air wielding the mind sword that enrages, delights or ensobers celebrating another new day of words cyber's
But now the hand of fate is on the line, and gives this scene to light. Far as my eye could reach no star did shine, Earth, clad in rumble, scorn'd the blackened night. No Owls, but ghostly souls of passage, entwine; No brook, as crystal smooth, as crystal clear, Was seen to ripple, or heard to babble here.
Please choose the place on my tattooed body, where you want to leave your scar. The switch blade is sharpened up and rusting, soon you won't be too very far.
Please choose a blank space, that i will see each and every day, once you make your mark on my face, you may find there is no reason to stay.
Please forgive me now from there, for being a worthless dead beat poet, because that is what i truly only am, to prove it i have nothing to show for it.
Please understand there are no friends around, they all left a long time ago, there is very little left but rhyme with no song, the only real word i ever hear often is no.
Please see through the dark and gray to the empty space, try to get why lust to me is just another radical theory, everything is counter intuitive because i'm broken inside and out,just like extacy, m, string and relativity.
Please don't think i'm bragging, because that's not possible in my human race, the only feelings i'm capable of, are shame, fear, loathing and pitiful self -disgrace.
Please don't think i'm being too forward, to me everything is imaginary until it's real, even then it's still mostly questionable, swallowing reality with a blue and red think pill.
Please understand my 'i don't give a shit attitude' is really just a facade i put up bit by bit, it's meant to be just alluring enough to be attractive, yet still hide the fact that i really don't give a shit.
Please make no sense because that's all i understand, if you are not here to hurt why even show up, the truth is whatever you choose to believe at hand, i can't remember ever falling in love but often falling down.
Just because (only because) sometimes these threads get long, I'd like to start part 2, if that's ok My love for youIs stronger nowThan it ever wasBeforeYou take me placesI'd never goAnd now I feelReassuredI dream of you and Ion a picnic not in Julyon a beach somewhere exoticDrinking pina colasNot...
I'm interested in poetic process. I personally believe the real writing comes in the editing stage and that all first drafts, without exception, are abysmal. As a result, I edit and rewrite a piece multiple times over days and sometimes weeks before I deem a poem acceptable for...
Do you write poetry because some divine inspiration strikes you — or do you write poetry like the art of cooking: Better yet, do you compose poetry following mathematical formulae and equations? I ask this because HubPages is increasingly becoming like a global village of poets. What do you think,...
Why would you leave HubPages? HubPages needs you, fellow Hubbers need you! The world needs you! This site provides a wonderful format for writing and clearly displayed WORDS and TEXT! No one should feel "exiled." If you do, it is result of a too-active imagination! Tone it down a notch…...
Wesleycox has inspired me to share some of my poetry on the forums, not to mention create more Hubs that continue my series on personal experience love stories with poems. On one of his threads he expressed some strong negative emotions in a good poem, and someone thought it was about his...
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