it's funny how hello is always accompanied with goodbye it's funny how good memories can start to make you cry it's funny how forever never seems to last it's funny how much you'd lose if you forgot about your past it's funny how “friends” can just...
To see my heart and soul.
No lips but yours,
Pressed firmly to mine,
Soft, warm, intoxicating...
No hands but yours,
To hold tenderly in my own,
To feel them moving over my body,
Thrilling and arousing me to my core.
No arms but yours,
Holding me and pulling me
So close to you...
mind;bathing me in sweet acronyms,traced upon curve in calligraphywhile whispering in prose our dreamsand...he'd dip his quill; inking upon my skin,noun's and verb's I'd absorb into my heartthen...my poet, whispers again sweepingme off my feet in syllabic count;taking control of...
He creates powerfully romantic, sensual images that speak to being human, and our desire for romantic love. Beautiful!
Place your hands upon me
like a big tent preacher
and with a whisper
heal all that aches
Put your lips upon my forehead
and glance your eyes
to the sky...
The cars pass in a hurry,
not taking in the scenery.
As I sit on the sill,
I watch the world pass by.
The people just strolling by,
ignorant to the beauty of life.
As I sit on the sill,
I watch the world pass by.
Nature turns from Spring to Summer.
Summer to fall
And suddenly we...
for a heart,
And ink runs through her veins,
She'll write you into her story,
With the typewriter in her brain,
Her bookshelf's getting crowded,
With all the stories that she's penned,
Of the people who flicked through her pages,
But closed the book before the end,
With maddening hunger.
I'd write to the point of
I'd write myself into
Manuscripts spiralling out
like tentacles into abysmal
And I'd write about you
a lot more
than I should.
the one we call "Mr.Perfect." The one we're to blind to see doing anything Wrong but that's the same guy who cheats on us but we tend forgive and accept aplogizes that he takes for granted ... we love him to point where we start to cut the people who really matter off.. He...
feel this flowering;budding with every whisper against my soul,calling; enwrapping me within his ambrosiaas each silken petal brushes against softness,I bow demurely into his maleness.Looking out upon the horizon; I glimpse oursilhouettes entwined in the midst of goldenrays...
sooraj rahtay thay
Kuch sooraj mann ka pagal tha
kuch chand shookh aur chanchal thay
basti basti phirtay aur har pal hanstay rehtay thay
phir ik din donon rooth gaye
saray sapnay toot gaye
ab chand bhi us waqt aata hai
sooraj jab soo jata hai
badal shab say kehtay hain
when it is with your
body. It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which I will
again and again and again
for seeking love through other outlets.
Love hurts sometimes and yes I know this now.
Maybe I didn't love you right or maybe it's not my fault.
Why point the gun when there's no bullets in it?
Forget the past because it's been a while since I've heard your voice.
winding, tangled,Into sweet nothingness,InsignificantSleeping hidden, overgrown,darker, deeperRock bound pathsmisted and rain drenched,Where with one misstep,You might stumble,You might slip,If you are lucky,Into a real life.~Jl Stanley~
My mascara isn't waterproof!
"Everything in my head went quiet.
All the ticks, all the constantly refreshing images just disappeared.
When you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, you don't really get quiet moments.
Even in bed, I’m thinking:
Did I lock the doors? Yes.
that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying...
after many years
of hard work and a long voyage
you stand in the centre of your room,
house, half acre, square mile, island, country
knowing at last how you got there,
and say I own this,
is the same moment when the trees unloose
there soft arms from around you,
the birds take...
It's always the underlying, the vibe, the subtle nuances that shimmer behind the words. Although sometimes you sense what you don't want to.."I'm passionate about poetry because I'm an oceanic person, meaning, I love what's underlying. I love the conversation that isn't just...
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day.
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands, the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your...
and it's call cause you're a joke and your mommy and daddy are both a joke. jokes fkin jokes and giving birth to ugly arse jokes YOU..A poor joke you pathetic little fkin jokes. hope you like the poem about a joke.. your life story-a joke :) "......
It is from an EP user...
Who would find magic on the ground,
As though the secret to real joy
Was something left lying around.
She'd pull it out of library books,
Their pages ripped and worn,
And swore that she could see it
In the air before a storm.
If you're wary of believing
Know I'm no...
just shells,but the voice of the sea,the Moon and Sun reflected,the hands of the waterrushing to touch, rushingto pull me close and tell mestories of love and bitterness.I’ve collected the play and cryof gulls and doves and pelicans,the crawl of crabs, footprintsand hearts...
have some work published some day (if the Hollywood superstar thing doesn't happen first)..but in case it takes a while here's her first published work..text to me by her elder sister this morning.
"I wonder why
The moon is high
It's like a pie
Up in the sky"
Something more than just me and you
There's a hidden spirit within us all
Something most people will never recall
But once it's discover, once it's brewed,
Fresh baked right out of the oven
You'll never see life the same,
Because you've just discovered You
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in it's roar:
I love not man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal,
From all I may be, and...
Summer To Your Heart"
I know I am but summer to your heart,
And not the full four seasons of the year;
And you must welcome from another part
Such noble moods as are not mine, my dear.
No gracious weight of golden fruits to sell
Have I, nor any wise and wintry thing;
And I have...
After a while you learn the subtle difference
between holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't always mean security.
And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises
and you begin...
diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth
Then took the other, and just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted...
across space I guess
will be all we will know of one another.
So little of what one is threads itself through the eye
of empty space.
The self is the least of it.
Let our scars fall in love.
From "The Book of Nightmares" by Galway...
that I made.
It's called 'A Rose On Concrete.' Tell me what you think!
"Dreams are nothing but absurd
That's what they choose to believe,
Oho! They must have never heard
About the rose that grew on the concrete,
Why do they choose to be blind
When the truth is there to see...
Is love found in holding hands?
In quiet whispers?
In looks shared across a crowded room?
Is love shared in notes?
Is love felt with a quickening pulse?
A feeling of loss in her absence?
A longing to see but a glimpse of her?
Is love heard through...
and stretched himself (things were gathering pace now) and looked at where the pump had been that the soldiers had blown up so that nothing should be left standing, and complained, saying, “What are we going to do about water?,” he, Michael K, would produce a teaspoon from...
“I want to see you.Know your voice.Recognize you when youfirst come 'round the corner.Sense your scent when I come into a room you've just left.Know the lift of your heel,the glide of your foot.Become familiar with the way you purse your lipsthen let them part, just the...