Winding Vines
Bluelighter
I write so much poetry that I thought making a compilation thread would be best on Bandwidth. One day I will be published.
Unfinished 9/13
And there are many things I wish to say
O my father of fathers I am your servant
for I have forsaken my own life
Times that roll away, bystander's pedestrians
I held in what woe of bleak
the world only known as peace; pieces of me
fore sought faded world pictures inside
fragments wished neither man or beast to astonish
And there lay, wanting the want
O my mother of divine mothers
witness the humble bow of brow
I have forsaken my love
Scolded from passers' confidants
penny doves slip away but the first break of feathers flapping, flying away,
blatant violence fabricated likeness dissolves
the first tear, tearing heart payne repose this frame
O my lover of divine lords
share the blossom of breathe
For I lapsed sitting upon the hands
Clock of time, perspective
unable to rest within thoughts
thoughtless thinking unraveling creation
Damages
How elegant the pleasure-
Cold air stare
Our Arctic Shelter
We both unleash
torment of any unrequite
debilitating the sense
of insecurity
Pretentious Pride
and there, weeping
deprecated loath beside
emotional motion
Do we know each again?
to our vineyard was the trail!
Not fields of melancholy and papyrus
shaded gray
disguising truth
Emotions and feelings
not state- of - beings
So who takes the fault?
Switchblade fingers!
And back ordered demise
Dissolving every bit of love, patior
in such sentences excommunicating the choir
and damning the water
Folly flow and Eros choke
Siva knows.
Meditation
Changing in such a funny way, my mind - mining itself.
little worker bees in this honeycomb
Digging for the truth
To attest this digress, ridden unrest.
my mind so peacefully sighs.
at the thought of thinking...
To unveil this tail's beginning
Illusions have ran their damn course.
No more remorse,
I shall,
don't stop this amazing returning.
Renewing this end, so shall it shine
oh it will shine. Sufferings demise.
That feeling, tickling down my spine.
Sands of time.
Immortal is the instinct.
Love...
Peace is the kind.. kind of being, beginning- real feeling.
Unfinished 9/13
And there are many things I wish to say
O my father of fathers I am your servant
for I have forsaken my own life
Times that roll away, bystander's pedestrians
I held in what woe of bleak
the world only known as peace; pieces of me
fore sought faded world pictures inside
fragments wished neither man or beast to astonish
And there lay, wanting the want
O my mother of divine mothers
witness the humble bow of brow
I have forsaken my love
Scolded from passers' confidants
penny doves slip away but the first break of feathers flapping, flying away,
blatant violence fabricated likeness dissolves
the first tear, tearing heart payne repose this frame
O my lover of divine lords
share the blossom of breathe
For I lapsed sitting upon the hands
Clock of time, perspective
unable to rest within thoughts
thoughtless thinking unraveling creation
Damages
How elegant the pleasure-
Cold air stare
Our Arctic Shelter
We both unleash
torment of any unrequite
debilitating the sense
of insecurity
Pretentious Pride
and there, weeping
deprecated loath beside
emotional motion
Do we know each again?
to our vineyard was the trail!
Not fields of melancholy and papyrus
shaded gray
disguising truth
Emotions and feelings
not state- of - beings
So who takes the fault?
Switchblade fingers!
And back ordered demise
Dissolving every bit of love, patior
in such sentences excommunicating the choir
and damning the water
Folly flow and Eros choke
Siva knows.
Meditation
Changing in such a funny way, my mind - mining itself.
little worker bees in this honeycomb
Digging for the truth
To attest this digress, ridden unrest.
my mind so peacefully sighs.
at the thought of thinking...
To unveil this tail's beginning
Illusions have ran their damn course.
No more remorse,
I shall,
don't stop this amazing returning.
Renewing this end, so shall it shine
oh it will shine. Sufferings demise.
That feeling, tickling down my spine.
Sands of time.
Immortal is the instinct.
Love...
Peace is the kind.. kind of being, beginning- real feeling.
