~ CALYPSO ~
Odyssey of the open ocean
Eclipsing the performance of Heaven's delight
A beautiful name whispered along the night
Calypso, enhanced with enchanted lullabies
Sweet silver streams, dreamy epic diamond dreams
Serendipity falls in like mist, under the majestic marble moonlight
Calypso, you belong to;
--Sunsets of the secret sea.
Mysterious-- many precious places to go,
Calypso -free flowing, floating legend!
Ride the beastliness breeze above the sea
Whisper, Calypso come for me!
Beautiful Comforting, Calypso Carry me!
Reflections easily deliquesce into thin air
Sedating the open waters -Voyage- view
Visionary Vessel above liquid level,
as divine in spirits she sails.
CA-LYP-SOO-- Nymph Nature Name
Aquatic of belief-----------------------
CALYPSO, the journey of all journey's
For all eternity-------------------------
The Butterfly Flutters By
On a steamy, sun-drenched, summer Sunday,
Tree leaves delightfully dancing to the tune of
A warm, welcoming, wandering breeze blowing,
Metamorphosis now complete, no memory of being yesterday’s creeping caterpillar,
The butterfly flutters by.
Blatantly, brazenly, boastfully,
Showing off beautiful, brilliant, blue-black and brown wings,
Gracefully gliding through a breathtaking, glorious garden,
The butterfly shyly pitches from blushing, boldly-colored, buds to fragrant flowers,
Cunningly outmaneuvering a competing, hovering hummingbird.
Slyly snatching a satisfying taste of tantalizing, syrupy, sweet nectar
From attention-craving, Golden Flame Honeysuckle vines,
The butterfly flutters by
Cheerfully and completely satiated -
Perhaps, already dreaming about tomorrow’s anticipated sugary feast!
Entered in the contest "The Butterfly Flutters By"
Brilliant blue butterfly
Frequently fluttering freely
Delicately dancing on dahlias
Softly soaring skyward
Buddleia bushes brimming with beauty
Enchanting everyone’s eyes
Written for Alliteration Contest Sponsored by Dr Ram Mehta
6th July 2014
~awarded 3rd place~
Desirous dust devils dance for a chromium god,
withering winds wandering whither they wish.
Silenced as shadows stretch, silhouetting strange shapes,
elongated ellipses etching the expansive emptiness.
Quickly cooling, the sunset slathers the sky in carnelian colors.
Deep desert darkness descends, a moonless diaphanous dome.
Looming above us, the luminous universe lifts our eyes aloft.
A celestial shining so supreme it spawns starry shadows,
succoring our unsatisfied souls in its empyreal embrace...
The watcher waits...
September 15, 2014
wind whips the weeping willow
a wolf rests deep within
watching snowflakes waltzing
Wonderful wonders woven within wild.
Titillates theatrical tender thoughts
Consistently creation, contrives conservation concerns.
Ecology evolves equations, entitling entities essence.
Empowering equality, enlarges existence.
Life lovingly leases Longevity.
Biodiversity braces, blatant brutal balding.
Deforestation, destruction devoid due definition.
People physically, plundering planet.
Prevalently procuring, products proscribed
Pilfering practices producing poisonous pollutants.
Greenhouse gases generated, generously grievous.
Temperate temperature’s tempers tumultuous.
Creating Climate changes, causing catastrophes.
Planet purges peril predominately.
Preached, placid platitudes, politicians podiums paced.
loved lives logged listed lost.
Lacuna languished, lessons least learnt.
Losing Life lingers, listing leeward lazily.
No tears as we scoop up the moon,
zip up dirt statues that dance in the sky,
and pour out the sea of stars.
We laugh as we boil to pull closer the sun,
turn our night song into the whistle of a soothing wind,
and blanket mountain tops with snow.
We sip blueberry flowers as we clip birds to trees,
turtles to seas, and playful dogs to shoes;
then we lean in and candle the dawn.
No tears as we scoop up the moon,
snag the sun, and slice the sky.
As morning rain they fall.
Moon’s Pilgrimage … Across The Sky To Praise
The Maker and All His Wondrous Ways
Moon’s Pilgrimage … Rises High, In Grace
Yet, Still In A Humble – Pilgrim’s Place
Moon’s Pilgrimage … Will Not Betray
All The Moonlight, GOD Lets Display
Tho’ She Moves In His Cosmic-Stage-Play
From His Theme-Theatre, She Will Not Stray
My Pilgrimage … Thru Deep, Dark Space
With Silver-Wings and Beams, I Chase
The Unknown and Known Questions Raised
Will Be Answered, When The Maker Says …
My Pilgrimage … To Touch Heaven’s Face
That Beauteous, Elusive, Mysterious Trace
Borne At The Blessed-Beginning’s Base
My Pilgrimage … Takes Me There To Pray …
My Pilgrimage … Takes Me There To Pay –
My Vows, My Voice, In Vesper-Vase
As This Moon, Is In Harvest – Phase
And Beams Brighter Now … Tho’ Slanted-Gaze
… The Moon … Glowing Ochre-Gold Or Silver
The Moon … Is Making Pilgrimage, Remember
The Moon … Is Trying To Help Deliver
Lost-Souls, Who Can Not Find … Moon River …
… Moon’s Pilgrimage … Keeps Steady Pace
Even Climbing Thru Dense, Cloudy-Lace
Moon’s Pilgrimage … Is Like A Dance, That Sways
Moon’s Pilgrimage … Into The Night’s Embrace … …
Threw two trees a heart was seen
Two trees bent, shaped by time and wind
Threw these trees the truth can be gleaned
Hards times shape, make, and blend
(Threw in this instance means strategic place.)
Traveling twisting mind streams.
Grounded to earth that conforms to flow freely,
Gently follows carved curved paths,
Nothing can block its destinations track,
Tandem in movement supportive round ripples,
Rocks on which it rests and slides in tides,
Glides, eddies, and tumbles,
Calm in cool pools.
No strains against nor entrenched,
Conforms yet grows in light wide water windows,
Changes through time as it bends, it tends,
Cleans spiritual souls that mystic sparkling sight lends,
Turbulent, transforms with mounting energies,
Eternal shifts from small cliffs and life reflections,
Boundless directions share theirs,
Open to the currents creativity,
Positive energy flows and travels there,
Becoming aware, joined with passionate raptures.
~ William Wooding ~
Leaping in barefoot abandon
Soaring every which way from Sunday
Laughter effortlessly exhaling cool breezes.
Lounging on nature’s lush carpet
Silhouette illumined by carefree serenity
Lapping up rays and shining them back
Licorice sticks and crackers and brie
Sweet plumpness of kiwi and mango and peach
Licking ripe juices off contented grin
Long luscious showers in waterfall glory
Swirling delightfully playfully pure
Lingering loving caresses of freshness
Last blush of daylight’s electrical charge
Sunset yields gracefully generously kind
Lights flicker syntax where space enfolds meaning
Lay here beside me
Savor my dream
Let my enchantment touch yours
Summer sings silent songs
Autumn air arrives Aloud!
Careless, clumsy, cool, crisp
Lingers like a lullaby
Up in the Autumn Air
February 21, 2014
Clouds cling in clusters.
soft silhouettes in the sky
morphing mystic masterpiece
Sponsor Dr. Ram Mehta
Watching wild Wasps
Fiercely flying forward
Sonic stings, sickly screams
Painfully piercing pandemonium
Experimenting with form I have not previously attempted.
the man within me makes me who i am
he is the source of my being
And he controls my life and feelings
Spirit mixed with emotions and grieves
A Breath from the creator
On that faithful sixth day of creation
Natural being beyond description
He direct my steps,
As mother hen direct its chicks
spiritually being of old incarnation
physically invisible to the mortal eyes but,
spiritually visible to the immortals
its leaves as the body dies
just like a gas leaves from a container
To unknown destination only known to it
within, the voice speaks humbly
the ten commandment of mosaic law
Which order your ways purely and rightly
Humbly inserted to enforce holiness physically
when try to channel or control, it leaves you
leaves you to your bidden until you understand
it dying, fainted voice so friendly
conscience of mortal s are the man within
spiritual immortal, unchallengeable mountainous beast of value
friendly synonymous to the whirlwind
vanishable like the gas into the air
Beyond microscopic power when its leaves the body
it stimulate your pains and groans grievously when hurt
when in motion, it becomes mulish
to stop you from crimes
munificent ghost but very grievous
all right reserved john chizoba vincent 2013
shake salt slow so she see's slick snow
How nature works
The corresponding relationship
Between all creature
One thing happening
Is the outcome of another
Is the beginning of another
That is the act of nature
Like food chain
Each depends on another
Everything has a season
And for a reason
Evil deeds ends hell
But good deeds ends well
For perfection is the spell
Those who tread
This path will excell
The bosom of happiness
Will they dwell
Dry, dirty, dilapidated buildings by day
Become suspicious, spooky shanties at night.
Daytime woods are filled with cute, cuddly creatures,
Yet at night they're forests filled with ferocious fiends of foul intent.
By day the moon is hidden half a hemisphere away
But shines marvelous, mellow moonbeams at midnight.
Invisible entities that revolve around our world by day,
Provide a panorama of planetary beings parading across the cosmos at night.
Flowers flourish flavoring the field,
Wild waifs that wave and whirl and whip
Beneath the wind's wanton waltzing ways.
Bucolic bees buzz blooms and sip
Sweet sage, sacramental savorings.
A halcyon habitat, a happy home,
For blessing birds and bees and blossoms,
Majestic, magical May meadowland, my own.
July 6, 2014
Seven cities sat* silently in the sandstorm**
Waiting as the wind whipped around wickedly**
Dun walls draped with dirt and dust**
And the darkened sun desperately seeking a dim scenery*
But as the unsecured boards were battered and broken about
Clapping clappers clipping** the next scene
The humans huddle in the hovels hiding and hidden**
From the farce of the ferocious furor, full of fear**
But then, as suddenly as it started, it subsides**
As silence settles** and the sand sifts** down
Down to the ground and gravel
And carefully eyes peek out of slits and keyholes
Seeing the first rays slice through the haze
Defining from pastel to watercolor to crisp bristle brush
Even if the voice of the cities are still hush*
There is a stirring of life
In the end of stormy strife***
The top of the terrace trembles
With worshiping warlocks sit wondering
So stupendous the sky seems surreal
I inquire intelligently inside
Thinking that time throws what troubles
Colorful chrysalis shines and climbs courageously
Lovely light lays on lowered layer
Perfect and powerful portrayal presents pleasure
Of outrageousness opened only so often
Never kneeling now or noticeably feel
Sky’s superiority spits my soul’s special sight
I enjoy every encased enlightenment
Full of fascinating floating essence finally
Enveloped within enigmatic enlisted joy
The sky spreads its light superiorly shared
Remembering recreation watching the real sky
Entered into Nathan A.'s "alliteration alliteration, nothing but sweet alliteration (must have alliteration in the title)" contest
I moan in the morning
See stones, soil, skunks, snakes
Birds, bees buzzing
Sweet scent soar in the sky
The clouds hanging low
muffled the maple-covered mountain.
Fog from the saturated earth
weakly, wet the newborn breeze.
Mist maintained the rainy connection
between earth and eternity.
A gray day lay upon
the weary weakened eye of morning.
Soon the breeze blossomed to wind
wiping the cinders from the sun.
Winsome Wendy walked in winter's white
Wondering when her window box wisteria would grow.
Wintry wisps followed by winter's windstorm
Wiped out her wonderful window work.
Winsome Wendy wanted to whine
"Without the wisteria, could winter be fine"?
While still walking, Wendy happened upon Woeful Will
Who worked without reward.
Winsome Wendy withstood the wisecracks that
Woeful Will had witlessly worded to her.
Wendy's withdrawal, spurned the wishy-washy Will
Which was witnessed by Watchful Ward.
Winsome Wendy went to the windbreak
Which Watchful Ward had wrought.
Wincing in the wind of winter's weight
Watchful Ward worded a simple warning to Wendy...
"Watch out for the windchill".
Flames roared through the nights sky.
A glimpse of blue still protruded through the flames.
The heat warmed the mortals below.
They believed that this was a great night.
The sky emulated a beautiful red color.
The color was extraordinary with remnants of blue.
They believed that they were all safe.
They were not nearly as safe.
They were witnessing Armageddon.
The war between good and evil.
For no one is safe until judgment day.
That is the day when the sky will forever remain blue.
The birds will sing a tune.
The flowers will bloom.
That will be the day.
The day when we will all be ok.
Fantastic friends fry fresh fish friday for fun
An asphyxiating smoke
Coming from a secret
Fireplace – not a single spark
Is to be seen
She naturally searches
For the bonfire left scorching
By campers in the surviving forest
That grew and selfishly devoured
The entire sylvan dales
And commands her soaring clouds
To scan the flaming, smoking
Spots on the earth and, straightaway,
To spray extinguishing showers
For them to cool down and shiver
But, alas, Atmosfera still sniffs (with rage)
An asphyxiating smoke
Coming from a secret
Fireplace, and not a single spark
Was seen by her soaring clouds
We are creators not
We've no sedition nor
division, but distinction
Our words from
We are created
Our existence, our
Our thirst makes us
But through words they
say we persist
Our hearts and the
earth are connected
But we are called
We are not deviators!
Our movement without
Journeys within our
Speaking, but not
Oh God! What's
The impossible made
Yet, "they're all lies",
You'll indeed lie, for
your answer still lies
The end of lies...
The final end...
The world's end!
Our quest to quench "our" thirst
Our rescue from battles of "our" heart
Our privilege to see the unseen
Our aim, with great gain
Our medium to all contacts
The only connection between our "revealers"
The revealer of all abtracts
Nature gave it's name, by nature we are named
Our aims and names remains the same
But our views and fame are not the same
Since our aim brings us gain
Emotional gains! Amongst many
Our chance can never be the last
"Last chance", never a privilege
When our hearts and earth are connected
Our hands and hearts are unseperated hearths
Our quest to quench our pain, for gain....
We shall forever aim....
Sweltering sun on your tea stained skin
such a sensual aphrodisiac,
pungent wafts of fresh worked soil
scorching my sandy soles,
brackish trickle between ample breasts
now heavy bellied with desire,
brooding for but a single kiss
bestowed by burnished brow.
Let loose your laborious implement,
languidly lie with me my love,
where last autumn’s littering lingers still,
liberate my lustful lips.
Carelessly where the cornflowers crown,
cast all caution to the wind,
as coppery caresses wantonly crave, a
covering of common nakedness.
Deny me not this delicious deluge
of self indulgence, as I dare,
to demand away the doldrums, by
day dreaming in the dirt.
The river has run dry, its dripless bed is empty, and
Crossing the flower carpet dim and dusty, parched
Penstemon and brave little brittlebush,
Expecting an inundation, stretch in a rush -
Spreading petals and leaves which their wetted
Wilted tapestry of color weaves - but they fast
Revert to survival tactics and retract petals, in the
Yearly drought of the Sonoran summer.
The desert of Sonora, Mexico, is one of the driest in the world, making plant life there very uncertain.
Vying buck running, rutting,
Crying wolf crooning, yowling.
Prowling puppy pouncing poking.
Nipping nuzzling nibbling.
Quirky bug buzzing by,
Funny frog wooing, wowing,
Witty owl winking, primping,
Blitzing cockcrow crowing.
Morning moon wincing winking,
Pink puffy fog, coloring
Glibly, gifting until morning –
© January 4, 2011
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: H-E-A-D-S OR T-A-I-L-S!
Sponsored by: nikko palmario
My bed is anxious,waiting for my snores
Today's going to bed, tomorrow's a few steps ahead
I wonder why I took "the" pen
I feel like putting them down
What am I inking?
Just wanna scratch my itchy paper with my juicy ink
Singers? Go sing...
Comedians? Go do comedy...
Others? What's your "itchy paper?"
Have you applied your "ink?"
Be good at what you do
Love what you do
Go scratch it!
How long, how tough
This world, just war
Endless war, endless world
Words and world, all about war.
Oh, what's war in this world?
The world's war, not yet in your world?
Wait till your words reveal the war.
I wonder, will this world end its wonders?
What an irreversible order
It's not our order!
I wonder, when will the order become a past order?
Others wonder "how will a new order be ordered?"
Yes! How long will this order make orders and not our own orders?!
All across an area
Of poising purple peonies
She's silently secretly stalking
beautiful butterflies betrothed bright blue
Wishing with wonder what wagers would want
From ferociously fluttering fabulous faces
Casting closely to colored camouflaging kaleidoscopes
Until the usually utterly untrustworthy upon the unfortunate
Lands lightly on lips, laminating labyrinths
extreme exultations explode.
‘Morning, mousie in the housie
Puss’s got the munchies
For yummy little crunchies –
You’d best be on your way
Rev ‘em up, your little pawses,
Cat’s relentless, never pauses
It’s just his nature and that’s because he’s
Been cravin’ mousie-pie all day
Little mouse, I’ve got a hunch
Puss-cat thinks your name is lunch
He’ll reduce you to a furry bunch
Of gristle, bones and clay
So, little rodent, if you’re smart
You’ll get yourself a good head-start
Pussie’s got his feline heart
Set on eating after play
The trembling thumb of threatening thunder
Strikes silvery shimmering of silken sludge
And adjoins an arch on alter of an afforest.
It inverts insipid immobility of irrationality.
Moon morning mean at dawning by
with wrest winter the field tree
great ground glances from any posted are
revels reface refuse, not heaven
deny deeply delight, not of birds’ sings
melody must mix with the dawning
Souls by eminent feeling are aliveness.
Fashion shoe treads imprinted on the bisque beach
global longtitude/latitude design airborne print in flight
Honeycomb print slowly pacing synchronising footsteps
Concentric wave prints grouping Fine detail pattern soul
beside clearly printed diamond fishbone sports design
Heavily studded trail souls tread along large paw prints
Simply dotted aerobic shoeprint next to little dog paws
A new soft pink fluffy seaweed floats in lacy ocean foam
Large horseshoe prints clomp digging deeply in the sand
Smaller horseshoes gather meeting near a water trough
Fresh green seagrass clumped like freshly cut long lawn
cradles long ball strands of yellow ochre squirting beads
Bare feet touching soft sticky sand immersed wet in water
Naked footprints side by side breathing beach vibrations
Two lovehearts drawn in the light brown sand interlocked.
Sandcastles decorated with shells sit sturdily on the shore.
The soft rays shoot my eyes
The green grass awakes
On my laps, open like banana leaves
Is a cover-less book
It is about a bread of sorrow
Yonder, a greenly hill gasps
And hinders valleys
Valleys that hinder folks
Folks that bore a damsel
Damsel who gives me sleepless nights
A cat passes by, meows and walks by wayside
Silently, it stalks my new dove
Shhhw; Shwwww, Shwww
And with a "Relax master, I just wanted to play; lol" look
It joins its master and its tummy growls like it has complaining worms
A highland sunset, like all other sunset
And that is how daily experience is
Sadly, we witness the death of a day-everyday
A day we never have enough!
In many ways
Whispering winds of winter woe,
icy branches bend and bow,
catfish cradled in the mud,
winter waters slow their blood.
Scampering squirrels, fat & fluffed,
chasing, leaping, playing rough,
the birds are bent on staying warm,
surround the suet in a swarm.
Babs and Buster, canine friends,
stalk the squirrels who torture them,
they snort and sniff at gopher holes,
tormented by these mining moles.
In the western window, warm,
the felines flourish through the storm,
soon the sunshine's streaming in,
thus the cooking of cats begin.
Cloaked and covered, in cozy coats,
we wait for Spring with hallowed hopes,
to lay upon the dock again
and feel the sunshine bake our skin.
Let's go out with our sunhats today and play
This day will never come our way again
Let's listen to the loud gossiping blue jay
And enjoy the red of the bright breasted robin
Let's sing in the excitement of the busy building ants
Laugh at a cricket cajoling a tender green leaf of grass
Let's go out with our sunhats today and play
For this day will never come our way again
Let's remark about the veins of the oak leaf
And revel in the joy of holding each other's hands today
Let's go out with our sunhats today and play
(This day will never come our way again)
On silver slippers moonlight
Glides over the glade
Kisses the birches as they shine
Dips in the shellfish pool bright
Drinks up the stream ripples rayed
And tastes the shallow sea’s brine.
Would the scent of winter,
the smell of fresh snow
mean much to me
if I'd been down south
breathing the scent of the sand
in a better climate since a child?
If i found snow at fifty
I'd dance around with wonder
and shout the most magnificent praises
that anyone could raise
but I'd ignore the smell
and scurry back inside.
The resonate purity of youth
comes off the snow consecrated soil.
It's not a memory of youth
left wanting or yearning
but all at once I'm reimmersed,
undistracted in the storm.
Unusually uninviting ultraviolets unleashes unrelenting unpleasantness underneath unique umbrellas,
uncomfortably upsetting us,
until umbra unexpectedly unloads ultimate Utopia upon us.
Step silent, listen
for the sizzle-slither
of a sister
snake who listens
soft for me, slides
of shadows, striking
soundless sinuous as
S, then slips
I am a tree that is bright
I wander when i get to see the day that some body climbs on the branches
I hear little kids playing
I see the day I will be cut down
I want to live forever
I am a tree that is bright
I pretend to be a little tree
I feel the beautiful sunlight on my leaves
I touch the soggy cool ground
I worry that I will never be played around
I cry when I don't see any little kids playing
I am a tree that is bright
I understand that I will not live forever
I say that I am happy being a tree every day of my life
I dream that one day I will grow again
I try to be as pretty as I can with my leaves changing colors every season
I hope I will be around for a really long time, but I know I can't
I am a tree that is bright
By: Stormi Skaggs
Brick buildings bombard the burden of solitude;
brought on by the blossoming horizon.
Winds weave through walls of concrete;
waylaying waves of waste upward.
Sounds spawn the scent of the season;
sun shines sharply in the surreal sky.
Demons doomed, retreat to the depths of darkness;
destroying the dull and dreary day.
Gray curtains gown gloomy ghosts;
gazes engulfed by a glowing globe.
Natural notions of the inevitable occur;
uncovering nights nexus.
Frothing, frigid fjords
Fling forth fine stippled
Salmon, streaking upstream.
Roe-rich fish, flashing
Fat and fulgent:
Spurred to spawn, to spurt
Then sputter -- spasmodic.
The sun shines consistently,
rays of sparkling softness;
It dries the dews of the days,
and the worlds dainty dress;
It broadens brightens and beautifies
the bumble bees sweet brambles;
It rolls and roams through the ryes,
in romantic rambles;
It gives and it glorifies the globe,
with gigantic gowns of gold;
It calls the crews and crowds of children,
and keeps away the cold;
It lightens the lawns and the leaves,
and leans upon the lukewarm lake,
It warms the world wiggling westward,
o’er the wide oceans wake
It never needs to know when,
when it is the hour on noon,
It moves and moves from early morn,
making miles before the moon.
Spinning Swirls of razor-sharp Swords.
Symphonies of the Sea with
Soft pink, brown, peach--shades of
Silently Sleeping as the Waves
Slap it out of dreams.
Suddeny it was all new
A new solitude
A new silence
A new emptiness
As if from a nightmare, I jerk awake
Where are all those I'd cared to call my friends?
Where's the meanin I'd cared to find in life?
What's come of those dreams, those endless dreams, that used to mar my very sleep?
New realms swim beckonin before my eyes
A light stroll , I decided, will take off the strangeness a li'l
Through the vast expanse, somethin suddenly began to emerge familiar
(Maybe this verve was mine, beyond reckonin,
Maybe silence n solitude were playmates i had forsaken?)
N yes, up above n shinin, was the moon..
So far away.
never cross enough to despise me for more than a night.
It was autumn come a-calling..
The august autumn of another anonymous soul
And as i walked along, so did she
One with me.
N silence found a new meaning,
in the newfound infatuation between us.
My love wasn wasted.
Not any more.
bears brisk bark, bellowing beats,
creating crops cure,
dispelling delightful divine dramatic displays,
ensuring earths ecosystem emulates enviably
following forecast freezes
Gradually God’s garden gesticulates,
liberating luminous libretto
Notably noted novelists nurture,
printing pamphlets, painting pictures,
radiantly raveling realism,
schooling seasonal sensuality,
then titter those tranquil,
Dandy daffodils delight
Dainty Dames dining
Complimenting the crispy crossiants
Making their meal magnificent
They say Beauty is in the eye of the Beholder. ur beauty is a magnificent bright.A strong sight. & yet it gets bolder. Each glance of ur extravagant beauty. I shudder wit an uncalled duty. An uncontrollable effect of prescence & assets,I squirm into the pits,into the depts. I appreciate a beauty as fine as urs,its above the rest,its of an Eagle,it soars. I can't compare thou beauty,with anything less great, a lesser beauty shall not participate. Its damn near unapproachable,but extremely noticeable. A blind woman can see ur beauty.Without eyes,u can't mistake the beauty of the Earth's sunrise. Oh its no surprise,wats in thy eyes,a one of a kind beauty,that never dries. Ur beauty is pure,wit no additives. Rare is ur beauty, its hard 2 find. Its way beyond the surface,its ur heart,its ur mind.
Plotters- plat- platters a drip of drop!
plop-plop-plop the dripping raindrop.
Purplish splash on mud and mire-
Clapping rain drop put out the fire!
Purring rain of dripping drops
against the water and greenery tree tops.
Perfect symphany of the falling rain-
Plotters-plat-platters a dripping rain.
Have u ever felt so alone?
I mean,ur surrounded by others,but they don't hear u.
They don't feel ur pain.
They don't take ur hand, when u reach out to them.
They don't want to.
They are selfish.
Have u ever felt like u were in another world?
Like u were being ignored?
Like u were invisible?
Like the pain & hurt inside of u is a punishment for what u have done?
But what u've done, u don't know.
Have u ever wondered, what did I do to deserve this?
Ur heart is beating so rapidly.
Ur heart is crying so loudly;but still, no one can hear it.
The people in ur world just seem like the walking dead,
They are there,but it's no interaction.
Or could u be the dead one?
& could it be that u need someone to touch u to make u feel alive again.
Has ur body ever screamed out "Touch Me! Touch Me!" ?
Has ur heart ever cried out "Love Me! Love Me!" ?
Has ur soul ever hummed "Take Me! Take!" ?
Loneliness is an illness.
We die of a lack of companionship & longing for another's touch.
One can not live in a world of one.
One will go insane.
& If u shall feel this way, should u be near the point of insanity?
One will go crazy or die if one holds in waste,that shall be released.
It's more healthy to let out, rather than keep in.
But if u can not find a reliable object to direct, it does ur mind,body,& soul no good.
There's only so many days that go by that u can be content with urself,b4 u erupt.
A healthy mind, needs converstation. Talking to urslelf is pure insanity.
A healthy body needs to be consoled,nurtured,held. There's only so long,u can touch urself,without coming to realization that it's u.
A healthy soul needs to be calmed & at ease.
A healthy mind needs to be stimulated,with thoughts of peacefulness. When alone for so long, ur mind has negative thoughts & feelings.
Everyone seeks companionship,friendship,& a just a shoulder to cry on.
Most ppl have a cold shoulder or turn their back on a friend in need.
I just wanna know,is there anybody lonely out there?
Longing for someone to hold.
Growing out of patience, with no one to reach out to?
A room full of ppl,& u still feel alone?
Everybody needs somebody.
It really does take two.
Out of these many people in this whole wide world,Y do I feel so alone at times?
How can someone feel so alone in this world of infinite beings?
Its a question u've become all too familiar with.
& the answer is. .
Pleasure, like the flowing of a gentle stream
Happiness, like the joy of a lively kid
Power, like the rule of a mighty king
Freedom, like gentle journies of melodious strings
All flowing within a being I reckon with
Dreams during daytime
will never withhold,
glorious glitter of girded gold,
and shadows like sounds of a sunny sky,
moving the mornig through meandering rye,
and sunrays sowing seeds of a summerly sign.
Season’s sweat sets steadily on the streets
Flowers’ flags float faintly on the floor
Autumn’s aura awash avidly on the acacia
Autumn's affect appears altruistically.
Almost always alluring affection.
Attracting adorations admiration.
Aloof attitudes adjust amidst autumn abloom.
© January 2, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Leavin' all my footprints behind me, covering them, so that they can't find me.
They don't have to know where I've been, just know where I'm going.
Leavin' this unsturdy ground, quickly sinking deeper into hell.
I'm steppin swiftly away from this sandy jail
Leavin' all my footprints behind me
The shore will soon hide
The only memory is the pain inside
As the water & dirt colide
That too, shall subside
Leavin' no trace to remind me.
No evidence to see
I know where I've been
I don't wanna go there again.
Footprints in quick sand.
I know the tide will come & wash away my pain.
Only damage, will remain
Under the earth, as the sea will take it in
It will purify & cleanse it of sin
Footprints on my heart, I have to start over again
Traces of a broken heart
Tears & scratches where I used to firmly stand
All that's left is a soggy waste land
I dare anyone 2 go near where I been
I dare myself 2 go there again
If I should go back one day to glimpse at back then
There would be no recollection & no feeling within
I'll have to believe that I covered my footprints very well
Now if they shall wash up on shore again
Only time will tell.
Crashing crescendo creating
The endless eternal smashing smoothing
looming lava pinnacles pinned in
an everlasting embrace.
Wizened widening eyes stare
struck in awe
at the bounteous beauty
What's that flirts in the distant horizon?
Up from the hottest lands of frozen.
Is the clouds of Grey?
Or is it the darkest of rays?
Is it the canopy that covers hope/
Or is it the breath with which the hearts get chocked?
Oh! Its dull than the dullest of weather -
As if allthe seeds of daekness in it hath gathered -
Its the smoke -
The smoke of destruction,
The smoke of friction,
The smoke of blemishe'd motion.
The smoke - rushing up from the clutter of engines,
The smoke hath engulfed the country regimes,
The smoke in the din and bustle,
The smoke in the parties and dazzles.
Whence peace was settling itself under the sun,
Many, a lot did thump with their guns,
The smoke curved its way out from here and hence -
It did pale and brush the love's fence.
Whence the path was straight
A lot we all did fret,
Now whence the smoke hath filled the bower,
We'll have to climb the curvy hazy stairs up to the heaven's lower.
Twenty-seven nightmares rolling
through the caverns of my mind,
dark and gruesome creatures crawling,
aged faces deeply lined.
When the waxing moon has settled,
sunk into the southern swamp,
thirteen demons manifesting,
I can hear their black hooves stomp.
Howling hounds of Hell are mating,
devil dogs inflicting pain,
sixteen banshees spinning, swirling,
blood is falling like the rain.
Broken brethren banned from Heaven,
six and six and six are they,
slyly shifting shapes to fool me,
begging me to come and play.
Heed the wizard's words of warning,
look not into the evil eye,
when the bell tolls one times three now,
ask questions not, nor wonder why.
Watch the ill wind toss the treetops,
lashing limbs with lethal rage,
feel the cold rain sharp as needles,
pine cones nature's hand grenades.
Cherry-red eyed Chupacabra,
hissing hot breath on my nape,
phantom footfalls far behind me,
nineteen omens taking shape.
Twenty-seven nightmares rolling,
you wonder why I work at night?
Sleep for some is much more mellow
when the room is filled with light.
The wheels ran on the tracks of rail-
Through the window the air gushed as a strong gale-
Upon the two serpents rushed and dashed the mail-
Carrying many a reflection, which upon it hath set the sail.
Sometimes it went intrepid through mysterious tunnels,
Sometimes it thundererd over wide canals ,
Sometimes the journey resembled repose-
When it over the plains tip-toed.
Inside the mail beside an open door -
Sat a lass on the uncombed floor;
Dressed as she was most slovenly ,
Left was she in such a fate by all and sundry.
Suddenly a voice of her rang through the air,
Towards a person who was a tea vendor,
Give me some tea -she tried to speak aloud -
Offering a coin of twenty five paise again did she shout.
The venndor passrd unheared,
His phony maners pricked my heart;
She sat and seemed to muse -
That she offered money and still was refused.
The motley of passengers,to help her--
All at heart were willing;
But it could be below thier dignity,
Of what were they fearing.
Then a person rose and like a foreman,
He did lend his helping hand;
Some read for her did he buy-
But when he want to her,to this nice guy,
And to this nasty world she haealready bade her last bye.
The mail seemed to run faster,
To carry the pure soul to her home's corner;
But, where will it find her destination?
When with her carrier only she had her home's relation.
Outside in the sea of darkness,many a dazzle blinked -
But for this poor lass the light of life forever did shrink,
Did this mean to a new light was she exposed?
And,did to hersoul the mysterious eternal dark disclose?
A Sunny Winters day
Cool sun kisses skin.
Pastel coloured ocean
Shuddering salty sea
Pink apricot morning sky
Seaside meditation tape.
Rolling frothing waves
emerge at fast intervals
Driftwood on the shore
Gold sloping sand dune
Giant swirly starfish studs
Seagulls squawking high
Leopard jelly sea slugs
Spiky red rubbery corals
Glittering foam sparkles
Extreme low tide no wind
Cuttlefish , tiny shells
Haystacks of seagrass
Jelly baby jube aneama
Soft small gentle waves
sound like a waterfall
Seagull flock flying low
red rimmed pale eyes
breathing hole red beak
red webbed feet high
flushed to body in flight.
Heart flutter hopes
like wind scattered leaves
tangled in dream twigs
By breezy adversity
Clinging and clutching to branches of memory
of yesterday's sunshine in torrents today
Glimmers so golden they flicker so faerie
As dream dazzled tears yet drip in dismay
Tempering splashes of minor discomfort
Mocking the mind games while three moves ahead
What will it matter when every thing's dead
Ride with the flow living the now
In a present so tense it's teaching you how
Winters' wandering within
wicked waves of worsening weather.
Wildly whipping winds
whistling through windchimes
Women wrapped in wreaths
of wool or, if rich,
cashmere coated against
the avalanche of chill
around corners marching,
counting with a
to ensure a regimen
regardless of winters' waft.
Snow softly swirling
through the thermal drafts
not ready to land yet.
Not really stuck ...
it streams in at daybreak
through the louvre,
then slowly seeps
into my dim, damp room;
it makes the dust slow-dance
in midair to an awkward tune
like drunken dandelions
in the morning dusk.
Fragrant fields of flowers
my every sense
As my feet
of each brand new day
Forever finding feelings
within this once
Free finally to find,
I call my way
Blazing across telephone lines
barreling in brazen fury
determined to defy time
Rain, rolling thunders roar..
Gentle winds wither wanderer trees
Splash! Crawling calls of thunders in skies.
Seek no humans within the outside.