Dead Winter Stray~ By: Poet Destroyer
Nearby paces, Combatants lost under the cemetery walls,
“Blessed Men and Heavenly Remedy Women of Ages,”
Feelings of dance at the beginning of nightfall,
Scenery of fire, sadness passing this history page,
In that distant curve, somewhere nears the sundown stream.
Far away from the vision of mortal eyes,
A child plays as beautiful and pale like the sunrise.
She plays on the coast this beautiful but pale, sun raised child.
Pursuing nature, in a hushed angelic lucidity,
“In hushed angelic lucidity!”
Fragile fastened, to those adequate bones.
Profound deepness beneath the snow winder dust,
Below the memoirs of her floating vessel,
Reminisces of water drowning down rivers and streams,
A shattered female kneels in salvation.
An anvil so heavy it troubles the mind.
Lost in profoundness, in what might have been.
What was, for a moment in this period?
The grimness of her weak vessel dwells.
A lifeless winter strays around.
An album so old and dusty,
A christening gown not ever embraced.
Infinite, the woman and pale child of sunrise,
Soften footfalls beating out the torments.
Countless nights seeing the day of unspoken headstones,
Feelings of dance will never rest this heartache.
Eternity, in a dance of unconditional need,
Their hearts unite as one...
A closing of mother and child…
Dead Winter~ By: Catie Lindsey
There walks Warriors in that graveyard,
Holy Men and Medicine Women of ages;
at night you can see their Spirits dance,
setting fire to history's pages.
In that far corner, up by the stream,
far from the eyes of publicity,
she plays on the shore, beautiful Raylene,
catching poly-wogs, in silent lucidity.
In silent lucidity.
Brittle now, those fine bones,
deep beneath the snow drifts of winter,
beneath the memories of her body afloat
down rivers and streams of Remember.
A broken woman kneels in prayer,
a heavy weight on a burdened mind,
somewhere deep in what could have been,
what was, for a moment in time.
The grayness of her frail body lingers,
in a dead winter of the unborn,
on page forty-nine in the family album,
in a baptismal gown never worn.
Together they dance,the woman and the child,
their soft footfalls pounding out the sorrows
of many days at a worn out headstone,
many dances to come, many tomorrows.
Together they dance, The Woman's Dance,
their hearts as one...
the woman and the child.
~By: Catie Lindsey~
(for Catie's: Re-write contest..)
We are all in the devil's playground,
now watch as I breach over and hold on to God's hand real tight.
#1. The underground is never lonely, to many hot dates.
#2. The host and the guest never seem to rest.
#3. The light will always shine upon my soul, no matter the shadow.
There is a place you can go that is full of only love and Warmth .
you will be surrounded by a light that shines from the Heavens ,
Sprinkles of Silver and Gold.
This place is filled with brilliant colors of Purple , vibrant Gold, all colors.
not one Color is less significant then another ,
for every color is equal here .
This place is surrounded by the beauty of different Flowers.
All flowers have significance here . No one Flower is better then another .
All Flowers are equal here .
It is important you know , you can cry here , and should cry as often as needed .
For the tears will cleanse your Soul and give the Flowers water to grow.
No one Tear is insignificant here , every tear has value and not one is better then another .
money holds no value , Where you live , what you own, has no significance here .
You will be surrounded by a beautiful light that shines from the Heavens .
A shining warm light will encircle you and allow nothing to hurt you .
Hate will be shed at the door light a old jacket of no use.
There is a place of beauty and Worth.
This place will not be found on Earth .
It is a place where no one person is better then another .
What art thou, splendid maid, inclined to verse?
Upon the skies, the stars thy words rehearse.
The darkness cometh with a Fall's request
while in thy kitchen, Gail, should do your best;
for spicy tastes the famous bard now begs
but you regaled his pleas with two boiled eggs.
The Eros Iamb feet, sung by the sire,
repeated are by stray cats' alto choire.
while resonant, of music flaws he shuns,
cats meow at him, from two deep tin trash cans.
Your bucket-full of water then, is thrown,
to fall upon his head and new iphone.
Enchanted so, thou callest the fine bard,
to dance with you Fall's jazzy avant-garde.
© G. V., 10-03-2013
I sensed the dance of clouds and windy drawl,
fast moving marionettes of moonlight,
conceived they passed the crannies of the soul,
and intersected solitude forthright.
The dusk descended when 'Archangel' crossed
the sight of island men, remote like wraith
and huge the blackened ship's displacement bossed
the nautilus stunned stares and childhood's faith.
Monotonous the bagpipes led to trance,
- autonomous the ship's insistent horn,
invited us to some unworldly dance
the ship regaled; that stung our souls like thorn.
We danced inside the rain while ghost bag pipes
were interlaced by sea's baptismal notes,
- betrothal waved the blue and white flag stripes,
- like coffins cradled round the wooden boats.
Embarked were we, according to their song,
thence sailed infinity upon the brines,
tho' Harpies from the ghostly mists, along,
the Hades' treated us, communion wines.
© 05-14-2013, G.Venetopoulos
With flashing eyes she did enthral
as to the beat of drums she danced
a wild flamingo with clacking castanets
her wide hooped skirt was all a-swirl
Golden earrings sparkling and flashing
heels looking impossibly high as she twirls
her eyes flashing enticing messages
as the men flock to her a mocking laugh
Siren of the senses as well she knows
she taunts and teases as she grabs hold
only to push her admirer head over heels
leaving him stunned and dazed in the dirt
In a puff of smoke she vanishes from view
long rolls of drums call to her to come back
the men look in vain for her return
a soft voice enticingly calls from the shadows
Singing of long journeys to far away exotic places
of caravan wheels swishing and of horses gavotting
of smokey camp fires bristling with full cauldrons
no clue to what lies within just enticing smells
She tells of lovers she has known in distant past
entreating the men, who try their luck to no avail
she sits brushing her long raven black hair of curls
and the sparks fly giving her an ethereal appearance
The fires die low and still she has not yet chosen
it seems she is waiting for someone not now here
flashes of lightening fork across the sullen skies
and the skies open in deluges of rain and thunder
As her admirers scatter seeking shelter she laughs
spinning round and round hair flying out scattering
droplets that glisten and sparkle in pale light
at last she crumbles done to the sodden ground
A mighty flash of lightening rends the sky in half
highlighting a jet black horse rearing up high
she runs forward laughing he is here, he has come
her gypsy king, he swings her up before him and turns
As the summer storm fades the last fork shows
the two lovers high-lit on the rolling hill
then gone, gone to their secret place of tryst
she leaves lingering memories in men's minds of what might have been
An ocean route defines the nights' dark trust;
reminds time's falsities - keeps me awake;
the brines engulf again my sleepless past,
with demons transferring the moon's mistakes
They are my long lost pals! From dark sea depths,
they jump and dance odd vested like buffoons,
and hold a violin or brass trumpet,
to gallivant around with looney tunes.
I like that group! Some theater folklore,
with drunk musicians and chords distuned,
who awkward smile with swollen lips to yore,
in front of a half-hidden laughing moon.
I love that feast! Hoarse sounds and guitar strings,
brass horns, vociferous trombones and lyres;
my joker pals in air they jump and sing!
Transmitting so, their foolish laughs and tears.
One dancer though among them higher jumps
('mid pandemonium tunes - on barren delf!)
while laughingly the chorus plays paeans,
this laughing dancer looks like my own self.
© G.V. 01-03-2012 All rights reserved
The Santa Ana's are here, and the moon is clear.
There is a mystic in the air that whispers in my ear.
Is this a peaceful feeling or does it carry fear ?
What is the passion and hot fragrence of orange blossom that is pulling me a different way , as if this power has been sent only by a Witch of the finest of White Magic, only to calm the Blue Soul I have known my whole life.
I feel a passion that is running through my Veins like the power of water itself .
As if the Moon itself were instructed to warm the air that is blowing . It is not a new moon , it is not a old moon , it is a moon that appears only in ones lifetime to gaze at .
By seeing and feeling the very power of this Moon you will dance your way to Heaven with happiness of what is yet to come.
The Stars around this Moon are unique as if they take the presence of every loved one you and I have lost .
The Witches winds with the warm glowing of the moon, as if I had never met you before , are blowing with the frangerence of Orange Blossom or Magnolia , from a distant past of The South.
As if I know we have been together once before , a Moon such as this . In a peaceful , lustful state of Bliss.
There is something coming .. is it something I have always known or wanted ?
What is yet to be known is as intoxicating as the Santa anas that are running through my body.
As if i have been struck by the power of light , as the powerful moon I gaze at in the Night.
It is piercing my soul with it's only Truth,
In great respect of the band I grew up listening to
as sure as Mom passed down Saturday Chores
for I had been chosen to scrub bathroom floors `
Yet a familiar sound would bring me to keep scrubbing
The red album, The blue album , The White album
Then .. Abbey Road , always remembering the sad look on
Ringo's face , something hard to understand underneath~
I get it now, what you were saying all those years ago ,
the many sad lonely tears , secret tears , secret fears
For Maxwell's Hammer was a real one . It wanted silence
Going back ..remembering when John Lennon died
I was in Arkansas saddened with the world .
Then seeing his face saying " Drag isn't it "
No .. this was not my hero in music and song .
he was a stand in hired William , he filled his shoes
bringing diversity to create so much beautiful music from loss
One left standing , alone;; grief struck on back cover ~
The other identity hidden, tried to be part of ..coming together
his world of secrets
He to suffers today , in fear , Faul~
Too many years gone by .let us tell the Truth. Let us be free
The very sad long and winding Road ~
Let us Bury our real Paul.
No more " Mystery tour "
No more fear
Let him be in peace ~
Inspired by " The Last Testament of George Harrison , Is Paul Dead ? "
Ref. Tandava Nritya* please see my Blog posted on 17th Feb Tandava Nritya or the Dance of ...
Prelude of this story is given in part 1 of the epic.
When the Earth was in danger 4 of
When her beautiful feet’s, touched the ground with a thrilling rhythm,
To perform the best of their skills and the magic of her body and mind,
She started her best the most eloquent steps, no one could follow that day,
As Urvashi was performing an art, which no one has ever performed. 14
A unique dance to match the rhythms of Shiva’s Tandava Nritya*, which
No one was capable to watch, such was the speed & elegance of her dance,
Even Gods and Goddesses too, could not understand what was happening,
Such was the beauty of her moving hands, thrilling body, her legs, feet’s and
The grace and beauty of Urvashi’s unprecedented magical dance. 15
To enchant Lord Shiva*, the Nature’s beauty and its wine splashed so high,
That it touched the sky, wetting everything in its mood and flavor,
To fill the atmosphere more intoxicating, than the Sura* of heaven,
Everyone was only standing astonished, stunned with eyes wide opened. 16
When Urvashi’s feet’s touched the ground, no one could understand and
When the drumbeats started to match her fleeing steps, again no one could follow,
The season had changed by then, by the presence of Basant* and
The Earth too began to play, a lofty musical notes on the ground and air,
To spread the intoxicating music and fragrance all around in the air. 17
By then the spectators of that divine dance, had lost their senses,
By the flowing intoxication everywhere in the air,
This unique happening on Earth, no one could ever understand completely,
As Spring had swept away the mind and their hearts, and
The senses of everyone were under the complete influence of
Lord Shiva’s favorites, Nature, the Earth and the season of Spring. 18
Kanpur India 20th Feb 3011 to continue in 5 /
Shiva* is the supreme God of Hindus
*Tandava Nritya* means Dance of destruction
Urvashi* was one of the most beautiful Apsara* of the court of Lord Indira of heaven, as
per Hindu mythology. She was a perfect dancer and singer.
Lord Indira* . Is the King of Kings. A warrior par excellence. Ruler of the heavens.
Dispenser of rain.
Basant* is Hindi Sanskrit word for the season of Spring.
Sura* a Sanskrit Hindi word means Nectar like wine of heaven.
Dahra*Hindi word means earth.