the height measures the depth
the shadow measures the havoc
faith is left with nothing to
distinguish save the relentless
fragments seeping through
cracks and frames that i thought
was my own, arresting the vivid,
vicious cycle of coming after you
then running away, like time
diffusing within your hands
enveloping only nightmares
perishing in the dark,
listless, languishing laughter
of skies tainted by the lack of delight.
Showing posts with label ars poetica. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ars poetica. Show all posts
unfinished | sonnet three
posted by
imani
, Friday, October 21, 2011 at 1:22 AM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
unfinished | sonnet two
posted by
imani
, at 1:22 AM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
the earth washed away now reveal
only brambles that hurt
flowers and flight have faded
and we fight for seconds
that offer synapses, moments
lost in midst, taking a step back
away from the fire, away from the
things that broke
my faith, from the hands that
caused my heart its bruises,
from the voices that scarred
what was left of my spirit,
from the ashes that gave birth
to an eternity of tears.
only brambles that hurt
flowers and flight have faded
and we fight for seconds
that offer synapses, moments
lost in midst, taking a step back
away from the fire, away from the
things that broke
my faith, from the hands that
caused my heart its bruises,
from the voices that scarred
what was left of my spirit,
from the ashes that gave birth
to an eternity of tears.
unfinished | sonnet one
posted by
imani
, at 1:21 AM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
the heart attempts to fathom
what has unraveled all these years,
the moments that held in it
thoughts, nuances, aches and dreams
then the soul begs to unfold, yet again
the stigma of blood and yearning
so it may begin to feel and understand
and discern and know
what it truly means to love
what it truly means to have faith
what it truly means to forgive
i go back to ceaseless beginnings
to wish for solitary midnights
i could just be the only one there.
what has unraveled all these years,
the moments that held in it
thoughts, nuances, aches and dreams
then the soul begs to unfold, yet again
the stigma of blood and yearning
so it may begin to feel and understand
and discern and know
what it truly means to love
what it truly means to have faith
what it truly means to forgive
i go back to ceaseless beginnings
to wish for solitary midnights
i could just be the only one there.
synapses | sonnet thirty five
posted by
imani
, Wednesday, August 24, 2011 at 1:17 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
my soul is not about to shut the
symphony of what makes us, and a
frame holds in the midst of it a staggering,
stuttering, smoldering intimacy,
a collapse of walls and logic, i follow
your voice, opening the sanctity
of all unknown mornings, drifting into
your arms, my lifetime, blood of
my blood, fire, passion, red, adoration
~ a few unembossed, untexted notions
that keep running in my head
burning fields, catching the insufferable
light of your love, of the infinite breaths
we have given and taken as we remain.
symphony of what makes us, and a
frame holds in the midst of it a staggering,
stuttering, smoldering intimacy,
a collapse of walls and logic, i follow
your voice, opening the sanctity
of all unknown mornings, drifting into
your arms, my lifetime, blood of
my blood, fire, passion, red, adoration
~ a few unembossed, untexted notions
that keep running in my head
burning fields, catching the insufferable
light of your love, of the infinite breaths
we have given and taken as we remain.
synapses | sonnet thirty four
posted by
imani
, at 1:16 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
and i find myself painting the naked
night with stars that hang low, fighting
the glare of a rebelling darkness so
i may continue seeing your face,
and the meaning it holds, when,
little by little, piece by piece, we harbor
lights that crowd our tendencies
to de-create and re-create mute,
imperfect, glorious moments
we held each other as if the world
stood still and time vanished
along with traces, roots, windows
and prisms, seeking only the rhetoric
of dreams and languages, of shapes and origins.
night with stars that hang low, fighting
the glare of a rebelling darkness so
i may continue seeing your face,
and the meaning it holds, when,
little by little, piece by piece, we harbor
lights that crowd our tendencies
to de-create and re-create mute,
imperfect, glorious moments
we held each other as if the world
stood still and time vanished
along with traces, roots, windows
and prisms, seeking only the rhetoric
of dreams and languages, of shapes and origins.
synapses | sonnet thirty three
posted by
imani
, at 1:13 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
the day will dawn when all that
would emerge from the darkness
is my light and my love
aching to be chastised to
your midnight sky, anchoring
the stars to an immense and
eternal shadow, a
desolate drop of patient stones
carrying within the hope
of being taken by your gaze
and the gentleness of your hands
gravitating between your soul
and its undeniable beauty,
drawn to blossoms of your laughter.
would emerge from the darkness
is my light and my love
aching to be chastised to
your midnight sky, anchoring
the stars to an immense and
eternal shadow, a
desolate drop of patient stones
carrying within the hope
of being taken by your gaze
and the gentleness of your hands
gravitating between your soul
and its undeniable beauty,
drawn to blossoms of your laughter.
synapses | sonnet thirty two
posted by
imani
, at 1:12 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
battling the sudden, undeniable fire,
seeking the energy of your gaze
blanketing what i know of this life,
under the sweltering heat of the
midday sun, like the music of a
sonnet you cannot escape, i urge
the clouds to shroud my heart
with memories of you and i,
now until the end that i do not see,
now until never, now until time
understands no other reason
but us, humbled by the sweeping,
inevitable faith for the one
who keeps my embraces and glances.
seeking the energy of your gaze
blanketing what i know of this life,
under the sweltering heat of the
midday sun, like the music of a
sonnet you cannot escape, i urge
the clouds to shroud my heart
with memories of you and i,
now until the end that i do not see,
now until never, now until time
understands no other reason
but us, humbled by the sweeping,
inevitable faith for the one
who keeps my embraces and glances.
synapses | sonnet thirty one
posted by
imani
, at 1:09 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
the marvelous yellow sun
diminished by the elusive gaze
you give away, a haunting,
unattained, delusional image
that create stillness out of
my relentless shadows, leading me
to paths that take the form
of your hands and your veins,
gathering the stones on roads
we walk upon to save the
mythology and sanctity
of how we began, how we came
to be, how we will survive,
how we will need just one another.
diminished by the elusive gaze
you give away, a haunting,
unattained, delusional image
that create stillness out of
my relentless shadows, leading me
to paths that take the form
of your hands and your veins,
gathering the stones on roads
we walk upon to save the
mythology and sanctity
of how we began, how we came
to be, how we will survive,
how we will need just one another.
synapses | sonnet thirty
posted by
imani
, at 1:08 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
summoning the dense midnight air
to wrap your body in its splendor,
my eyes beg for the sight of your
face, the sense of your naked skin,
my loneliness spiraling to a
delirious and intimate want,
or need, to be with the hands
that crave the passionate embrace
of clouds and sunrises,
arguing with the vagueness
of emptiness, emptier still,
lacking the laughter that
resonate in your voice, i lie
waiting, hoping, loving.
to wrap your body in its splendor,
my eyes beg for the sight of your
face, the sense of your naked skin,
my loneliness spiraling to a
delirious and intimate want,
or need, to be with the hands
that crave the passionate embrace
of clouds and sunrises,
arguing with the vagueness
of emptiness, emptier still,
lacking the laughter that
resonate in your voice, i lie
waiting, hoping, loving.
synapses | sonnet twenty nine
posted by
imani
, at 1:07 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
an ardent soldier who prays you
choose your weapons wisely,
and even if you have not, i
already have lost this battle,
death leans and laughs over my
labor and languor, i await your
voice to pierce and revive
the tangled web we weave,
to resurrect what i deem a kind
of demise, i will let you be, and
give you your peace, as i
always have and yearned to
do, but let me take the stars and
pluck each one like a dream to offer you.
choose your weapons wisely,
and even if you have not, i
already have lost this battle,
death leans and laughs over my
labor and languor, i await your
voice to pierce and revive
the tangled web we weave,
to resurrect what i deem a kind
of demise, i will let you be, and
give you your peace, as i
always have and yearned to
do, but let me take the stars and
pluck each one like a dream to offer you.
synapses | sonnet twenty eight
posted by
imani
, at 1:05 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
and so the sighs we’ve let out
a thousand times shaped the
moments we have started claiming,
the light stabs the darkness
like ink on paper, releasing
delusions we’ve held and kept,
sonnets written in secrecy, awaiting
nothing but the perfect time
to show them to you, but emptiness
expels its own fruit ~ the wisdom
and sense of being with you
then without you, wounding
cold, relentless, unforgiving
mornings i uttered your name to no end.
a thousand times shaped the
moments we have started claiming,
the light stabs the darkness
like ink on paper, releasing
delusions we’ve held and kept,
sonnets written in secrecy, awaiting
nothing but the perfect time
to show them to you, but emptiness
expels its own fruit ~ the wisdom
and sense of being with you
then without you, wounding
cold, relentless, unforgiving
mornings i uttered your name to no end.
synapses | sonnet twenty seven
posted by
imani
, at 1:03 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
this heart take the bruises from
loving you too hard, and neglects
the idea that it is illogical,
when the waters inscribe you
entirely and lets your soul
levitate, aching without bounds,
the air becomes my witness as
eras hasten to shards of
light and murmurs of loss
sink the economy of unblemished
laughter and stares
seeking your synapses, your
blessing, your naked hands,
reaching out to touch me.
loving you too hard, and neglects
the idea that it is illogical,
when the waters inscribe you
entirely and lets your soul
levitate, aching without bounds,
the air becomes my witness as
eras hasten to shards of
light and murmurs of loss
sink the economy of unblemished
laughter and stares
seeking your synapses, your
blessing, your naked hands,
reaching out to touch me.
synapses | sonnet twenty six
posted by
imani
, at 1:02 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
i still could sense the reluctant
metamorphosis of your spirit,
from who you are to
who you ought to be,
your doubts charged by
an impeccable, lyrical smile
that hover when you mean
to give more than you could,
yet despite my supposed innocence
or blatant ignorance, i capture
the brightness of your elusive
gaze and think of myself
blessed, for each day i take
your hand for a leap of faith.
metamorphosis of your spirit,
from who you are to
who you ought to be,
your doubts charged by
an impeccable, lyrical smile
that hover when you mean
to give more than you could,
yet despite my supposed innocence
or blatant ignorance, i capture
the brightness of your elusive
gaze and think of myself
blessed, for each day i take
your hand for a leap of faith.
synapses | sonnet twenty five
posted by
imani
, at 1:01 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
a decadence of fury ~ all for the
love i cannot contain, a fire that
wish to unravel its own flame
eats up what i have always
known of the red, striking,
impatient thoughts to be
hunting for the nuances that
remind this furtive soul of
you ~ its muse, its reason, its logic,
its restlessness and ruins
awaiting our own
surrender after an era of battle,
against what we should do,
against our own hope of closeness.
love i cannot contain, a fire that
wish to unravel its own flame
eats up what i have always
known of the red, striking,
impatient thoughts to be
hunting for the nuances that
remind this furtive soul of
you ~ its muse, its reason, its logic,
its restlessness and ruins
awaiting our own
surrender after an era of battle,
against what we should do,
against our own hope of closeness.
synapses | sonnet twenty four
posted by
imani
, at 12:59 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
your laughter the trembling of
snow falling over my hands
and my mouth, letting you simply
to define the borders and
nature of this poetry, of a heart
that basks in the existence of
these words without death,
as if we were summoned to
create infiniteness which falters
to broken despair and desire,
aching to subdue a trilogy
of fire, an immortal light
that begs for peace and twilight
~against all known clarity.
snow falling over my hands
and my mouth, letting you simply
to define the borders and
nature of this poetry, of a heart
that basks in the existence of
these words without death,
as if we were summoned to
create infiniteness which falters
to broken despair and desire,
aching to subdue a trilogy
of fire, an immortal light
that begs for peace and twilight
~against all known clarity.
synapses | sonnet twenty three
posted by
imani
, at 12:58 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
i begin only with what i know ~
that our love is strong to overcome
anything and everything, that
you, ahold of my heart and my hand
is worth every single laughter and
tear from our own spring,
unmoved, unchanged, unaltered
by seasons, or days becoming years,
until the only space left between
us becomes the cistern that catches
our love spilling, our light trembling
with certainty, that at last we have
been found, that at last we will remain,
a place filled with faith and dreams.
that our love is strong to overcome
anything and everything, that
you, ahold of my heart and my hand
is worth every single laughter and
tear from our own spring,
unmoved, unchanged, unaltered
by seasons, or days becoming years,
until the only space left between
us becomes the cistern that catches
our love spilling, our light trembling
with certainty, that at last we have
been found, that at last we will remain,
a place filled with faith and dreams.
synapses | sonnet twenty two
posted by
imani
, at 12:57 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
someone said my words now
are imbued with hope, and i thank
you, my lifetime, for the love
you have offered from the onset,
and it is true ~ that i did not
imagine i would feel this again,
yet again dissolving any expectations
~ as i am loving more now, today,
right here, than ever, and as
we clear the path and create
new worlds, we grow and
flourish and thrive, just us two,
and we know it would suffice,
and we know we would endure.
are imbued with hope, and i thank
you, my lifetime, for the love
you have offered from the onset,
and it is true ~ that i did not
imagine i would feel this again,
yet again dissolving any expectations
~ as i am loving more now, today,
right here, than ever, and as
we clear the path and create
new worlds, we grow and
flourish and thrive, just us two,
and we know it would suffice,
and we know we would endure.
synapses | sonnet twenty one
posted by
imani
, at 12:56 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
how does one live when each
breath she takes was from someone
else, from the love that came,
that lingered, that remained,
how do i fight the battles
when my heart is no longer
my own, because you hold it,
still, in your hands, within your
soul, enduring cold, empty moments,
awaiting only the glimpse of your
sanctity and your sins,
loving all of you nevertheless,
without doubts, without questions,
without leaving, without giving up.
breath she takes was from someone
else, from the love that came,
that lingered, that remained,
how do i fight the battles
when my heart is no longer
my own, because you hold it,
still, in your hands, within your
soul, enduring cold, empty moments,
awaiting only the glimpse of your
sanctity and your sins,
loving all of you nevertheless,
without doubts, without questions,
without leaving, without giving up.
synapses | sonnet twenty
posted by
imani
, at 12:55 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
seeking to glance at the genuineness
of your soul and catch
the fragrance of your name
with my skin aching to feel
the warmth of your embrace,
stopping at nothing so i may continue
to hold your hand in this road
that leads to a lifetime,
the avenue that begs for a you
and me, the pavements we now
chase, armed only with the
fortitude of our love, ever-flowing,
ever so patient, never fleeting,
never ending.
of your soul and catch
the fragrance of your name
with my skin aching to feel
the warmth of your embrace,
stopping at nothing so i may continue
to hold your hand in this road
that leads to a lifetime,
the avenue that begs for a you
and me, the pavements we now
chase, armed only with the
fortitude of our love, ever-flowing,
ever so patient, never fleeting,
never ending.
synapses | sonnet nineteen
posted by
imani
, at 12:54 PM, in
Labels:
ars poetica
lulled to sleep by the truth i would
wake up to your gaze, your smile,
your voice, your kisses, your touch,
your faith, your courage to
take all steps to keep what we
have going, awakened by the
strength of your hands and the
gentleness of your embrace,
ever since you, i have ceased
to think there could be anything
better than the love that flows
between us, in the end, we go
back to the beginning, and feel
the same wonder, see the same light.
wake up to your gaze, your smile,
your voice, your kisses, your touch,
your faith, your courage to
take all steps to keep what we
have going, awakened by the
strength of your hands and the
gentleness of your embrace,
ever since you, i have ceased
to think there could be anything
better than the love that flows
between us, in the end, we go
back to the beginning, and feel
the same wonder, see the same light.
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