Poem Starting With A Line From Norman Dubie

A kiss is like a dress falling off a tall building,
landing quietly upon the concrete, its ruffles very shielding.
Silent love like an exalted ulcer to the edge made a dash,
and the union of thrilled lips was the subtle crash.

Nonsense

The pen screeching thoughts so pensive;
the paper in apprehension overly sensitive;
the table shivering too with anticipation;
the floor complicating the pen's obligation
as rising is it and mounting the subjugation
to occur within the pen's thoughts alterations.

The Man's Mermaid

A single man residing upon the shore
gazed out as always at the waves, now torn
by a beauty that not his made him forlorn.

The creature with exhilarating allure,
eyes, green, searing, angelic as nothing before
he wished to own for him alone to adore.

The elegance of her pale and flawless skin
was glorious as was her scaly, cushiony fin,
and her as his possession was all he cared to win.

Seductive were her pink, plump lips,
and from them a fluid, fresh language dripped,
and all the man desired was from the world her clipped.

The feeling she effortlessly, accidentally induced,
evoked the threat of her freedom reduced
as absence of his domination upon her he refused.

The vision could no longer remain,
as she left, bolting in great disdain
after revealed was the nature of his cruel game.

Celebration

Between the solemn sun's gradual rise and galloping set,
alive was endless exuberance which to I eagerly did connect.
That day of delightful distance from the routine's dubious sameness
was the turn I savored, celebrating consciously but with an untamedness.
Liberated from my pain, my eyes did their clarity regain,
and aware I was of the lovely people that melted my disdain.
In my ears poured the pleasing hum of a crowd immersed in words,
so consoling was their buzzing as the cherished songs of delicate birds.
The day of celebration I yearned for eternity it to extend,
for it unlocked within me jubilance, to my outlook a great ascend.

Muse

A monotonous mind abruptly ignited
by a fascinating spark that excitedly enlightened.
Singularity by surreal sensations
seemingly was distinguished,
though present were required compensations
to the originator of the idea that was relinquished.

The conception, belonging to no lone man,
was transmitted by the submitted inspiration of another's stand.
The identity of the idea's architect remained silent,
for to his muse he was a thief too he confided.

Man's Fall

Distraught from aggression was mankind
who instigated with their obsession their decline,
for they were approached with a fee,
stemmed from their greedy plea.

Agitation poured from the disintegration
of their so necessitated modern predation
which, so enhanced with their sweaty hands,
appeared to meet their cruel demands.

Yet the vision unclear did incorrectly them steer,
for their evil bore evil within their crude career.
Strength it seemed but weakness was it truly deemed,
though the harm to retrieve and stress to receive never leaned.

Man's actions proved to be mere distractions,
deviations from their legitimate creations.
The fate they made did cause satisfaction its fade,
and placed their inevitability beneath a dreary shade.

My Mission

Each transportation into consciousness,
an addition to all of my conquests,
as when awakened, so perturbed I am by that desolate flap,
the startle yanking me into the mourning of the morning's trap.
Boisterous and bitter as bold winter, my dejection,
binded as a bruise to of the world my reflection.
The torch of love was once so gloriously glowing,
its flames, exquisitely vivid, only growing.
Marionette I was to love yet now to my tribulations,
I stow within my core all my dreary degradations.
Dug into myself are my terrible talons so abhorrent,
plagues with fringes visible slightly in my distortment.
Rotted love like spoiled fruit has made limp my condition,
but within me for my vengeance, anger lies no rendition.
A jam is clasped unto my forgotten delight ,
The lever I must jerk to defeat my somber fright.
The melody of ecstasy I will again possess,
though for the time being it sadly lies in rest.

Leech Obsession

The guise of my obsession
does coax the wrong impression,
for my session with him passed,
my confessions did not last.

I reaped the bad sower's sorry harvest,
I tore the creater's art and it gashed my guilty chest.

To me he exists a leech,
ravaging my energy,
Tumbles away my old beseech,
and any doubt upon his perjury.

Unworthy

My defect weeps as my hatred it keeps,
lamenting as upon my contentment it creeps.
My blister screams as it you have deemed
much too degrading and to me you feigned.

The End

Tranquility is brought by my concealment,
comfort envelops me and inside me is sent.

Soothing is the dullness I once possessed,
Yet now more chaos inhabits my chest.

I long again for the wonderfully familiar boredom,
I cringe though as I predict it never again to come.

Yet I did once sing with such elation
for my old now but once young creation.

How forlorn to think my song deceased;
How languishing to know me now diseased!

Yet that time of beauty passed,
And lingers now nothing that did last.

Myself

The commander of this sturdiness,
The director of myself,
The authority of this alertness,
Into my soul does delve.

My anchor I am,
From inside to out I am the link,
My contentment so crammed
Within me never shall sink.

I require not the slightest service
As the cause I am of my deliverance.
I desire not the aid once sought,
As the fight I am has for me fought.

Funny Love Tanka

Hysterical his discrepancy as pursuing balance does he try,
Eyes profuse with tenseness; his frustration does in his skin cry.
As he clings to his somber mentality I rejoice
I anticipate enthusiastically his approaching choice
To in his mind myself I know he shall retrace.

Image part II

Irritatingly bitter the dread
with a perplexity unexpected
that sprouted from the tred
of this image in my head.


Infuriating the irking growth
of desire for to my image cajole,
and agony lies within in the folds
of this image I behold.

High School Hearts

So contrite I am to have alleviated you,
so irritated now by your detractions.
To think from myself I deviated too
to plunge into your mendacious entrapments.

Yet how could I, merciless, vindictive, stand,
my resentful dismay upon you land;
I cannot provoke within you pain,
I could not bare to from you refrain.

What Is Poetry?

Darkness is this companion binded firmly upon my back;
Melancholy the perfect morose match nothing lack.
Burden he is to my perceptions,
planting me pitilessly in the wrong directions.
Yet in the moment's instance
His wit shows the most needed assistance;
This devil I despise who I blame for my demise,
His words are but of bleak beauty cries.

His meak whimpers, as his presence I recognnize,
abruptly into potent wails metamorphosize.
He is in me my horrid dark as well as my only light;
He incites such articulate beauty and all the glory of the night.
He, my evil my passionate self irate,
is the origin of each thing of me great.
He is the sorrow and misery of hate;
and as the commended author of what I create.

Inspired

For you, the world hesitated,
to absorb all you inspirited.
Bewildering how full of charm,
your beauty, eloquence did me alarm.

The face, teeming with delightfully divine enchantment,
illicited in me an emotionally ecstatic enhancement.

I plunged into thought so very deep,
and your illumination into me did seep.
Opened my eyes became
To the beauty of the unclaimed,
the free, the most untame,
the ones who behold the firiest flame.

The Forbidden Love

Obscured by the coat that holds it wedged within
is the temptation that provokes my gleefull grin.
I satisfy it every day, succumbing to my love forbidden,
which tantalizes all my thoughts, and my thoughts I must keep hidden.

Sweet laughter does my favorite indulgence incite,
As it cradles me, dissolving inside me my fight.
Welcoming my love to suppress my disputes,
my exasperated mentality now renews.

Fear

Harbored in my startled heart,
lingers a loathsome fearfulness,
Rejecting callously any depart,
and filling my body with dire distress.

Panic is exposed in the pace of my breath
for inside I itch with grim, ferocious fear.
Petrified of a world whose only escape is death,
Terrified this agony looms frighteningly near.

Harrowing the path must be ahead
where suffering lurks, the karma of my hoax.
Heinous is the day I so very much dread
that brings me the truth of my obstructing cloaks.

Morbid is the coming hour
that haunts me through the night.
It is me that they shall devour.
My deciet removed, the time so right.

RWP: Recycling World Publications

I, upon which many sordid blemishes sit,
venture to relinquish the guilt of the culprit
who strips from me my vivacity and my pride
deluding me with lies, never failing then to hide.

Malicious he is as he tosses me away
back into the vicious cycle without delay.
He resides inside my bones that ache from him though,
And over him I clutch not the least control.

My mind is recycling thoughts, inspecting each once more,
Fiercely flinging through them, seeking the one least torn.
The one whose logic, most complete, holds steadfast,
And heedlessly into action this thought I cast.

I immerse my ears and my eyes and all my flesh
into the ink, the abyss of a world so fresh.

I emerge into reality again
Shattering the waves of the ocean
that lies between my dreams and here.
Upon this ground I once more can say I stand,
yet my stand is one much more open
And I'm short of my previous fear.


Upon my face and with my body are publications,
expressions and gestures, established as my creations.
And what I've made reveals me in a brighter light
I finally can fathom myself in a different sight.

Shuffled Songs Poem!

Falling In Love With You
Crazy Nights
Nevermore
Sea of Sorrow
Home is Where You're Happy


Falling in love with you
is flying across the vast sky,
spreading my arms and my toes
to feel the whimper of the cold air's cry

Trickling my way into crazy nights
moments pass and come nevermore
Shaken by the fright
of your grief, my mind forever sore.

Your breath ensures my life tomorrow,
But it's brimming with your sea of sorrow.
You exclude me from within,
Tear from me my closest friend.

Home is where you're happy though,
I cannot pluck you from your sanctuary,
Cannot confrom you with my arbitrary
oddities;
You cannot abandon your life,
And farther on alone I must strive.

Exhausted

Crawling in my head through the deep, dark murk
Are thoughts of my legs that are dead
And my muscles that wrestle with a queerly quick quirk.

Exhausted from the torment of life,
No longer could I possibly strive.
I no longer endeaver to endure the weather
of barriers that cannot induce the least pleasure.
Worn with disappointment and hate,
The end of today finds me very irate.


The soft, swift night shall tuck me though
into covers of its abysmal, sweet dark
comforting me with the knowledge
that only is it my choice to embark.