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One of the ancients,once said that poetry is "the mirror of the perfect soul." Instead of simply writing down travel notes or, not really thinking about the consequences, expressing your thoughts, memories or on paper, the poetic soul needs to seriously work hard to clothe the perfect content in an even more perfect poetic form.
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What is poetry?


Reading books RomanceThe unity of form and content is what distinguishes poetry from other areas of creativity. However, this is precisely what titanic work implies.
Not every citizen can become a poet. If almost every one of us, at different times, under the influence of certain reasons or trends, was engaged in writing his thoughts, then it is unlikely that the vast majority will be able to admit to themselves that they are a poet.
Genre of poetry touches such strings in the human soul, the existence of which a person either didnā€™t suspect, or lowered them to the very bottom, intending to give them delight.


There are poets whose work, without exaggeration, belongs to the treasures of human thought and rightly is a world heritage. In our electronic library you will find a wide variety of poetry.
Opening a new collection of poems, the reader thus discovers a new world, a new thought, a new form. Rereading the classics, a person receives a magnificent aesthetic pleasure, which doesnā€™t disappear with the slamming of the book, but accompanies him for a very long time like a Muse. And it isnā€™t at all necessary to be a poet in order for the Muse to visit you. It is enough to pick up a volume, inside of which is Poetry. Be with us on our website.

Read books online Ā» Poetry Ā» can you hear me, now? by esp3052x (books to read to be successful TXT) šŸ“–

Book online Ā«can you hear me, now? by esp3052x (books to read to be successful TXT) šŸ“–Ā». Author esp3052x



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WOMEN


(both exe's and why's)




eden


she shared my tongue
(and the rest of the flesh)
as my heart was a prisoner
behind these ribs from which
sheā€™d once emerged

her creatures came
from a darker place:
the springs of earthā€™s fecundity

our arrogance called it
ā€œmaking loveā€
though it evaporated
like the sweat
that accompanied itā€™s rumbles

yet still
my heartā€™s a fallow field
tread
ā€˜til some new gardenā€™s bloom


autumn in her hair


autumn in her hair
leaves
that change
from green
to anything

her forests:
joyous campgrounds
for my souls
that have always hated
ground and camping

her streams:
volcano fed
with silt on the banks
but sweet to taste
and sweeter
to bathe in

her fauna:
at play in her mind
and in her odors
the animals live
in the musk of life's origins

her earth:
here
reflecting the sun.
the source of the morning
is smaller
than her sunset eyes


valentine '03


peace was never promised
(a promise is a pregnant lie)
but love has owned me
with a whisper
since the blood
heard in my ears

her blood that fills my worship
that fills my lips
that feeds the love
to keep hearts beating

her whispers
when silent
as asleep
or smiling
or cumming
with the silence that comes
only with the violence
of deep love
and deeper loving

these gifts

a wretched man
a supplicant
the day my blood
whispered her name


four poems

1:
dream
worship sleep

as if in my mad woman
a delicate boy sky
falls
like life

and day whispers
please
winter could shine


2:
we go on
the beat stops

true
he said

but men want the void
their chant in forest breast
and time's gorgeous shadow

we
you me
are above one and two and all

you sit
you ache
a lake
a flood
the essential moment
beneath
love's garden


3:
eating the sea
fingers on petal skin
smooth beauty felt
a rip in my vision
a rain gift screams through

am me
am she
go together
drunk
like an elaborate symphony
only easy


4:
madly
like a smooth forest

a shadow, true
like me

of lazy whisper
sad dream summer
under her beauty and girl appearance

though she storms
raw black tv
behind honey skin

rain love on garden crush
through sweet woman sky
my gorgeous friend


cleave my soul
and get this black stain
out
it rests with seashells
and promises
dead in the dry sand
of my mind

it rests with poetry
and the salt tastes of her e.e. (cum)mings
dead in the arid surface
of my tongue

the snow on nakedness
the sun burning reds for whites and
browns for loving
dying in the memory
of my skin

here with the arcade joys
and the fearful pleasures
it rests with the weakening muscle
of my heart

cleave the soul
and free it from
the mad undulations
of sex games and no games
free it from the dying tension
of my loins

from the soul
which greedily maintains
some hope without
while all else
dies within.


flatso


flatso's silence
a punishing ritual
like a hair
in the soap
her blood
on the toilet
nail polish on the floor

the squirels
still dance
it's not for us

for me,
the stranger,
the party's over

the party is over
now


i want the girl
whoā€™s wearing the gloves
that match the dress
that lies on the floor
as we dance
to the kiss
of the night


majestic


crushed
beneath the burden of
your terrible insult

and lost

and claw tortured

eyes
cast down (like raindrops)
and left
and right
and never up...
(avoid holy notice)

in here
in this mouth
(that forgives nothing)
bones are gnawed
(the cost of this injury)
while a heart beats
like a fist to drown
in liquid forgetfulness

my second hand majestic
wounded by your razor tongue

(sooner measure a forest against THAT weed)


the distance we put I-the first
between ourselves
became much greater;
your wretched return.

holding my hands II-the psych major
through distasteful
saturnalia
'till all that was left
were my hands
at arms distance.

childish orgies III-the debutante
our organs together
our hearts worlds apart.
i can't even talk to you.

we passed the time IV-waitress #2
in each others arms
to return from each other
to ourselves.

i flatter myself V-the freelancer
at your expense

how is paris VI-the paisley blonde
this time of you?

when the drugs ran out VII-janus the 2 faced god
so did you, to incestuous
insect relations.

i will never be one VIII-l'etranger
with another.

it is a grisly scene; IX-the old maid
i've convinced you
but have no conviction
of my own.

lies, X-the child
my greatest disappointment.

over you? XI-the past
i'm the god damned
sky


love is a corpse
that rots in the night
when downwind and blinded
we stumble over
and take her home


my lips


my lips
on her lips
without rehearsal

"end me"

she gave me
sounds
from a silent closet

"ah, yes"

sounds; familiar & distant.

damp love sounds
sticky warmth under sticky blankets.
quiet sounds of mirth and smiley.
sounds from long ago.

like jericho, sideways,
a wall came down.

"am, en."





OUR ANIMAL FRIENDS




burrow
bonelessly
searching for the corpse
of night

gretel crumbed
a moonlit ā€˜hereā€™
leaves behind
a swirling nowhere
then shimmers
like daylight
or silver in the shadowā€™s dark

his paths
are dead concessions

are sad migrations
to a secret
silent
bed.


cancer

i live
in a dark place

anaconda rib-caged
over
primitive loins
loving aught
but your empty
vessel

in this crust
I hermit
changing phyla
like a raincoat
(crab-thing to snail-thing)
transmogrified
reaching to vaults
of unknown
havens

or heavens

and hells that teach
the lonely truth:

the emperor has
no skin


desert fingers


fingers
filled with poison
clawing out a home
between the desert rocks
my dry abode


house of steel
a hollow, hollow truth
cry out;
my white wings
crucified against the
azure.

eagle plumed and visionary
in true denial of a true destination
a true destiny

how far from there to here?
(i'm hugging my soul to keep my soul in)
immeasurably brief,
but the weight of the light...
holds me down and blurs my
vision

round shadows obliterate all faith
in the 5th representative
of reason.

wearing
wings of flesh
in denial of my true
destiny


it broke my mind
again
today

that squirrel
ascended,
sun exposed. the frightened side. the day-lit con.

him. grey
of face,
wizened by the drops
of loveā€™s slow poison
(where light reflects
the lie, only)
still, he trusts a cruel desire.

the ocean canā€™t resist the beach
absorbed
by her warmth
and in her light rejoicing ;
but the ocean is no frail victim.

for us?
our safety is
ebon perched
clad in tiara of the moon
or in the shade of shadowā€™s tree.


plath cut up two from: the burnt-out spa and hardcastle crags


i pick no family-featured ghost;
an old beast.

pry like a doctor
among
enamel bowls,
and pipes that made him a monster
fire smelted
of pale blue
as resin drops
the small luster
under her footsoles.

no animal spoils
the meadow
mute as boulders.

step.

the rafters
the chair
how long his rubbish, wool and birds.


to all of you birds
hammering out your songs
please remember
silence is a mercy
and a graceful place

your dinosaur gyrations
no longer the charming dance
put those ugly battles
back to sleep

this territorial morning
let me find my dreams again
you dirty
dirty
dirty
thieves


SCIENCE AND ALCHEMY




anaximenes


it's the spinning
and the fire
lashing out

the land settles
in the drowning
beneath the heavy air
and my love passes


collapsing
like a star
in the thickest blue
of my own poison

incinerate
the moon


diamonds

say goodbye
to everything
so beautifully pointless

my secret shames
trickle
like rock
under great pressure
(no longer secret,
theyā€™re shouting from the battlements
ā€œnike, nike, nike!ā€)

stripped of lies
(stripped of beauty -
the truth that sleeps in a lies abundance)
diamond is carbon
like my exhalations
stolen
everyday

and we all die
as time falls off
like salomeā€™s veils

and
atoms
kill the ether

this is not
an honest life


mars


there he is
war
star of my heart
once to the south
then in my sky

here is the message:
i move
there is death
and the promise
of death
in my moving


for a mother and her rocks

FIRE CRACKED
AND EBULLIENT
SLIPPED FROM YOUR TOUCH
ON THE HORIZON
-------------------------------------------
mad dead icharus
broken heart
of rock
and iron
--------------------------------------------
loves vapor kills
--------------------------------------------
a blue pussy
unctuous
and servile
---------------------------------------------
one inch
of anger
in your red face
and bitter
----------------------------------------------
pluto, who art thou
cold
motherless
underworld


i am nexus
the waves crash
and whirl
through me
as the sand
struggles to clear its bed

there is no here
but the folding of two

gravity is floating
flowing downward
breaking my bones and making new
crystal

the radio blares
the faces seek answers
i have nothing to offer
but the white tinny noise
and the balance
out of reach


rocks


i


long


to


live


the
slow life
of stone


DRUGS AND SLEEP




aspera me juvant


The rose appears
inside the glass

a chemical invades
and terror rides out
through locked eyes


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