i am surrounded by a blaze of flaming colors in God's garden.
autumn happily creating with her palette in hand the September scape.
a thousand shades of reds, yellows, browns, earth tones spread,
blended perfectly by the artist's loving hand, a sensual delight.
a masterpiece, sketched against a bark colored scrim of nature's flesh.
with my eyes opened wide and my body clothed in autumns light
quenched but still wanting, unwillingly i stagger away, drunk from exposure.
September 2 2014
“A Flowers Wilt”
Witness the small existence
that abides the beauty of-----------
Freelancers all around,
Just to get a good look.
A baneful abrasion, the flower took
It captivates you -------------
Reels you, steals from you,
Until you pick the right flawless touch.
Dandelions swaying thin,
Here we fall like petals.
Ready to exploit, the beauty of-------
Inhale the fragrance,
Courtyard azure eyes,
Embarking in a wishful eternity,
A crush they become, when loveliness up and left.
A bully against arrogant, threw feminine perfumed veils
Tulips waiting for the better auspicious’ sky
Asters claims the eclipse's,
-dinginess censors it from the brilliance of the sun.
A lonely rose
In My Helix World-
The out-and-out are born.
Cries in the dimness,
A sweet Lotus echo’
Slight yelps of agony, carried off by pollen breeze.
The earth revolves to fast,
Injections of herbal essence in the wind
For a split second, we feel pixie dust
Channel the essential, it fades
Earlier beauty, calmness-
A flourish smile,
Rusk of flower, a bluebird’s bread.
Like candles and dew, they stream and limber energy
Opposing others of its humanity,
Against the command of its importance,
Pierced by its own elegance,
Thriving slowly of its own will,
A short story, gone stray!
Tonight, we plant a tree,
The Flower wilts
The gardener cries
Featuring:) Giorgio Veneto
She writes about Fall's beauty in the rain
The falling raindrops' dance ascribing thence
Bespoken verse that lightens her refrain
before the time they met - her steps commence.
She listens to the soft and rhythmic thrum,
her love turned to escape and cloudy string
Where nimbus mistletoe fell, tears to become
Their kiss of Autumn was symbolic ring.
The first light cotton mists with summer rays
While skyward cheerful laughs adorn the land,
their ceremonial dance diffuses grays,
affectionate embrace, where dreams expand.
Upon September's sky the raindrops gleam
With half of hidden Sun to laugh and beam.
Enjoy the FRAGRANCE OF RAIN
FRAGRANCE OF RAIN
~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~
Sealing eyes of sky,
Descend upon straps of light,
Dusk…now dreams the night...
In a new road,
Rain will fall,
Wind may blow,
Swifting our woe.
The road forever on and on,
Many paths to choose,
Many paths to take,
Through the shadows,
Through the night,
Clouds going by,
There we will lie,
Seeing shivered land,
Seeing the dead seas...
Through the edge,
Miles to go,
Rain may fall,
Through the nightfall,
Through the twilight,
Through the dusk,
Through the dawn,
Paths on and on,
'Till the road comes along...
I do not know?
are like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps down
Their cool aftermath
cleanses me of my thoughts
of fear and uncertainty
about what tomorrows
pain may bring
They make me feel,
wet with creativity
drenched in my optimistic
raindrops, my thoughts
leave paths of pleasurable
distress, and hope of success
which road, less traveled
may be the best
Forget an umbrella
when these raindrops
arrive, I walk outside
arms open wide
Ready to Receive
the mind storm may bring
because raindrops are
as my thoughts, falling
down into my mind
sending shivers down
My brain, yearns
for the rain, to wash away
the pain, tomorrows worry
One special drop
could speed up life's clock
to the time
I can handle my own
and not dwell inside my controllers
For raindrops are,
like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps
down my spine
"Ensnare My Heart"
By M. Taha Effendi
O beautiful maiden of my captive heart,
Are you not the lone bard's pompous muse?
With allure that inspired the divine art,
Heavens' hand made you with such delicate use,
What sweet circumstance upon me befalls,
My heart the endearing perfidy has plotted,
Entombed in my bosom, it beats to your calls,
Loves beyond reason the heart besotted,
Let my soul swoon at your eternal beauty awhile,
Mesmerize by sheer fineness of your chiseled cheek,
Beguile by crimson roses that adorn your seraphic smile,
Savor in you the beauty of which poets speak,
Your eyes are gleaming lagoons of preserved vintage,
Shades the cerulean ocean from their depths did lease,
The jealous eye of heaven envies your radiant visage,
The blushing moon embarrassed cowers beneath the seas,
Would you shelter me in your silken veil perchance?
That imbue elation in those who wander in its shade,
And sways to cadence of zephyrs in an eternal dance,
To invoke dark urges of soul with a sublime serenade,
Elaelana- A Nymph In the Forest
Inspired by Charles Amable Lenoir's painting, "A Nymph In the Forest"
Elaelana, forest goddess, kneels beside the water lilies
Picking dainty, gem-like flowers to adorn her crown of hair;
Borrowed gems from Naphesai, her lovely sister of the daisies,
Flow'rs that thrive in shady woodlands, by the streamlet floating there.
Dressed for nymphean starlit dances in a dress of flowing creamrose;
Flawless slender arms upraised to rearrange the sable strands
Trailing from her Grecian features, pearly white against the gleamrose
Of silent lips, a little pressed, like rosebuds' tightknit ruby bands.
Ready now, so tall and stately, shadowlike drifts thro' the forest,
Joined at length by Mylesia, and her sister, Naphesai:
Elaelana, Mylesia, Naphesai, the sweetest, fairest
Threesome ever seen or heard that sang the nymphish lullabies.
When the sun sets, The stars shine with no regrets. Darkness fills the air, The moon gives light with every care. The darkness is easier to walk through, Every light shining is so pure and true. Guidence forever are the stars in the sky, With them we find our places lifted so high. Forever is the moon to cast light upon us all, We become encouraged to stand firm and tall. The stars shine with no regrets, When the sun sets.
When the sun sets, Shining its powerful light it never forgets. Though light fades to darkness, It comes about with alertness. Shadows before the eye can see, The little shining light is enough to set us free. Sometimes we are afraid to walk alone in the dark, From which we were given a caustic remark. Guidance Forever is the changing of dark and light, It helps us to be strong and make one last fight. Forever are the shadows lurking at every turning point, If we give in it is ourselves we disappoint. Shining its powerful light it never forgets, When the sun sets.
When the sun sets, The sky is filled with wonderful colors that the ocean reflects. All the animals of the sea, Come forth creating a musical harmony. The waves crash upon the shore, Washing up new sand to the ocean floor. Its a beautiful site to see, The ocean sounds are calmingly free. Who's to say the ocean isn't peaceful get away, Its a calming place to relax and stay. The sky is filled with wonderful colors that the ocean reflects, When the sun sets.
beach that's long and white
seen through the coconut palm
picture perfect view
13 April 2015
KIM PATRICE NUNEZ
From once lush green, vibrantly alive
This dorsiventrally flattened leaf never dies
It's fragility, nursed to allow ~
Such patience from the artist abounds
By blade and pin such creativity thralls
Again, it's decaying membranes reach out and touch
From the tree of life, this leaf lives on
Written about the craftsmanship of Omid Asadi
whom creates amazing Art from leaves.
Shadows of light and darkness
Contrasting images of El Capitan
Half Dome sliced by an ice age glacier
I met him that day in Yosemite
Touched by the unique qualities of his photos
Fine prints are displayed at his gallery
I marveled at his skill
Black and white contrasts
Create spiritual moments and introspection
I brought him home with me
His work now hangs in my office
Ever inspiring, ever grand
*Written March 15, 2015, by Carolyn Devonshire in honor of black-and-white photographer Ansel Adams and his stunning photos of Yosemite National Park.
The Nature of things is such
That when we broach the things that bring us joy,
Something special happens to us
Observe the way a tree tilts
The way a flower blooms
The way a butterfly lands
Pick up a paint brush
Color a canvass with shade
Watch the sunlight splash the pavement
Solidify a moment with laughter and contentment
The nature of the soul is such
That when it is fed it’s quota of good is brings us peace
Something we all need in this world today
Pick up a pen write a poem
Phone a friend share a recipe
Play with your dog
Wash your hair
Listen to music and get inspired
Dream dreams and let them find you
The nature of fulfillment is such
That when act on it, you’re greatest desire comes to fruition
Something we all need to learn is how to lose and how to win
Bow to something greater than you
Knee before the Almighty
Be grateful no matter how small the gift
Begin every day with hope in your heart, and you will see
The way to soul power is to live by the hour
For Christ paid in full, so we could have power
Praise Be To Him, Amen!
For contest: Soulidified
March 25, 2015
Today I saw thunder leak from the sky,
As if the sky was water and the thunder was dye.
There was no sound there was only red,
I asked a woman if God was dead.
She led me to a house with just one door,
Inside there was a painting of an open shore.
She painted it herself she sees colors by touch.
The ocean is her mind the beach is her crutch.
She said each stroke is a single thought,
Some of them flowed others she fought.
She rubbed the painting at a boat with a sail,
And said only the blind man can scream in Braille.
The boat is a person she said it's a saint,
God is the canvass, reality is the paint.
We were created as the artists so the universe will grow,
Because words can't always explain all that we know.
My soul is the paintbrush as a pen may be yours,
Once you begin there are infinite doors.
She only paints at night it's when she feels whole,
The stars give her the strength that society has stole.
Quiet your mind and you will feel the yearn.
Evolution is our creativity to explain what we learn.
Much like wings give birds the gift of flight,
We have gifts that solve the experience of life.
I sat myself upon a hill to get a better view,
Of the valley down below wet with morning dew.
As I pondered my first lines, an artist came around,
With paints and brushes in his bag, an easel on the ground.
I watched him go about his task of setting all just right,
Mixing up his colors to let his brush take flight.
In my mind I sought the words and phrases to convey,
The beauty of the landscape – the wonder of the day.
And so we started working as if within a rage,
He upon his canvas and I upon my page.
His colors leapt from off his brush at seeming lightning speed,
My metaphors were dancing ‘round, happy to be freed.
Broad, his strokes that made the sky and little squiggle lines,
That made the shapes of bushes and tall and slender pines.
And, green, the meadow brought to life with yellow daffodils,
Orange, the leaves of hardwood trees scattered on the hills.
My pen, too, was hard at work describing what was there,
The wildlife and the fauna, the smell upon the air.
Little things I brought to life for everyone to see,
Singing birds and butterflies – a single bumblebee.
So lifelike was the artist’s work, I had to give him praise.
He asked to read my poem and, after, seemed amazed.
For we had told the story of this valley and the wood,
The artist and the poet, so much alike we stood.
I do not know?
If I was the artist
The world would be my high
Painting sheets of clouds with my brush
Like this day
The clouds would be paving a hallway for the waking sun
There would be freckles of young clouds ready to play
The world would start orange with excitement and adventure
If I was that artist
The sun would wear her sleeves high
Her sides curvy, sexy and luscious
And like this day,
The quarter moon would stay watch until the sun reached climax
There would be stripes for every tribe for harmony
And the underground, like the marble cake, would swirl in love.
Persian tailed jackrabbit
snowbird, whistles on tree top
where did x-mass go?
art in poetry
ink runs as blood in veins
The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare
You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark
The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy
You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark.
colors of pumpkin,
vermillion and deep gold---
veiled mysteries air
in a sea of canopies---
harvest moon rises
gilded by the dawn
and swayed by a seasoned wind---
shades of art abound
Chilly late October;
early morning fog banks
the roadside, cloaks
a trickling bayou...
in the thickets of dense trees,
the wispy tufts
goldenrod, Queen Anne's lace,
dried-out thistle stalks...
A school bus, solitary,
yellow, slowly passes
on skinny black asphalt
where wet spots reflect
the newly risen sun.
Only rustles of high,
green cane fields and
intermittent bird songs
interrupt pervasive quiet...
Timelessness, and solace --
calming, soothing --
a Louisiana bayou:
Your sweet nectar
wraps around my senses
like jungle vines
steady drums beating
Your heart near mine
Your strong hands
hold me suspended
by my waist
Just enough pain and strength
against my supple skin
For my taste
The musk of your
sculpted body and the forest
has me going wild
But yet, the tender way you
protect me, reminds me of
Being a child
A safe familiarity
with a strain of animalistic
Your invisible hold over me
leaves me arrow poisoned
Unable to function
My long dark hair wraps you
with smells of coconut and ocean Sun
your locks full of mud and enemies
together, my warrior
We make One
It can be an orchard with peach trees against patches of blue
as they swerve downhill and meet the foaming sea,
see him capture an indelible moment after
moment until he's amazed by that wonder
to have captured a breathtaking view...
which will be eternally frozen in his memory.
A photographer lives what he feels,
wouldn't it be a celebrity on high heels,
or the most gorgeous child cuddling a puppy
that she saw shivering when snow fell in February?
Didn't he anxiously climb that remote, sun-sunken mount rising in the East...
to find tiger cubs suckling from their mother as she watched a flock of sheep?
Do the immortals cry, what happens to divinities
Tears, crystal shards of frozen miracles, cascading
From the heavens above, swallowed whole by
In the abyss of darkness, within caverns dark and deep,
Lies a hidden chamber, of wondrous creations.
Glittering stone shingles, that hang from cave ceilings,
Crystal chandeliers of opulence's brilliance, shining on high.
Diamond cylinders, made from the weeping heart, of a divine
Spirit himself, a stone garden of sorrows tears.
Exposed to reflected light's illumination, oh so do they
Shimmer and sparkle, rainbow prisms of color, frozen
Molecules held prisoner in status freeze.
Nay water is life itself, a living element of nature,
Creations clarity, a universe within a universe.
Oh in such magnificent beauty, lies this sacred
Vision, of this the almighty’s most secret garden.
Seeping mists of moisture rise, enveloping the
Flickering rays of lamp light, adding an eerie
Obedience to this textured display, in this
Almost blackened realm, hidden beneath the
Earth in fathoms deepest depth, the artistic hand
Of God can be truly felt.
Ricocheting light randomly strikes against variations points of
Color, setting aglow from the blue hews, to purples
Fuchsia, a palettes splashed array, bursting forth
This underground aurora borealis.
In granite's cathedral of stone, split by the elemental,
Giving birth to fusion, exposing natures raw force of power.
A blending between spiritualism, and science takes place,
To create this grandest of masterpieces, that I call the stone garden.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
swarm of dragonflies
cascading on quiet lake---
burst of hues explodes
perched on grass' easels
crepe wings swoop on irises, reeds---
ballet of light twirls
in sudden raced glides
dusk twirls like flushing ribbons ---
beneath a cloaked moon
by nette onclaud
Heavenly gracious light
Glorious feeling from above
© Joseph, 8/19/07
© All Rights Reserved
Forest alive now
Autumn colors brilliant glow
Poplar_ Maple grow
Colors seen_red, yellow, rust
Auroras of autumn flow
For the last ball before snow
She smiles at artist
As he gathers paints blends shades
Painting her colorful gown
As sunlight dances
Against gown that glows with dew
Gracefully she bows
As bare limbs begin to show
Last of grace before first snow
Summer scent is the smell of freedom
where we can escape the flavor of boredom
so we plan to have our vacation on the beach
where we can relax and fresh air is within our reach
The warm wind tenderly embraced my spirit
I felt excited on this first visit
on an island where refugees can find paradise
an island where spending time is wise
The dulcet breeze gently kisses lush green trees
and the mirthful sun smiles over the vast seas
Where surfers play with gigantic waves
and are not certain on what road it paves
The fluffy clouds are smoothly sailing
the birds are singing and harmoniously dancing
There are butterflies that are colorful in hue
like enchanted fairies changing colors from pink to blue
I need my sun block, it's time for swimming
the tables are full because later we're all eating
Ladies are smiling to many cool surfer dudes
Children are hungry seeing delicious exotic foods
I picked a shell that whispered peacefully in my ears
and we built castles that we fancied over the years
out of the small grains of white sands
and all you need is helping hands
God was really great in creating splendid wonders
that were loved by all especially the nature lovers
There are numerous oceans that are aquamarine
and abundant trees and grasses that are green
The brother sun was slowly hiding
because the sister moon was coming
I guess it was our time to pack
but there will come a time for us to go back
Go back to a place of leisure and freedom
where you'll not taste the flavor of boredom
It would be hard for us to say goodbye
because truly we will come back and say Hi!
A man with a creative dream
On an arid afternoon
Admiring God's creation
Relaxing in the sunlight
With his cowboy hat
Giving him a little shade
Watching the cumulus clouds
Shading the desert wasteland
Captured all by the artistic eyes
Of a man named T. C. Cannon
Inspired by Abe's
Native American Ekphrasis
Enter a storybook tale
Where I can be
The heroine you hail
Lucid dreams of soft reflection
A touch heated with lust and desired protection
A breathe a gasp as we succeed
Join the fairytale with me
Valiant night within dark eyes
the right movement and I make them shine
like moonlight on the steamy hot spring
care to follow for a little dip with me
Trailing like the water at my fingertips
Grasp me around my hips
As close as the breeze on my skin
Whisper lies as I let you in
Lips mumbling up my thighs
bare heart exposed to the sky
fire burning in my veins
Am I a mistress of this lust or simply a slave
Trembling with desire
Take me till we've lost count of the hours
enter this storybook tale
Where I can be the heroine you hail