Six empty shells II
Beneath the blinding sun she star'd askance;
and saw him walking to abut his fate;
a swirling, laughing wind began to dance
and playfully their lives to desecrate.
Despite the heat he wore the tailored suit
of color black; beneath the Stetson's shade
his stare was sweeping the adjoining butte,
with dusty ghosts to mime some odd charade.
Replacing the six empty shells he turned
to see her worried glance beyond the blooms,
that innocent embellished unconcerned
the reckless, smiling braves aside their tombs.
The Smith and Wesson forty-fours then bucked,
she knew the blooming noon was ending fast
and nothingness neglected to obstruct
what fates adjudicated to recast.
She saw the brazen shells inside the dust;
monochromatic synthesis and hues
of sepia were blurring in the gust
that whirling sang their lonesome Tombstone blues.
Beyond the turnpike, where the roads converge
some crowing birds were messaging the tale,
the spinning wind was bringing up their dirge,
on the deserted Arizona trail.
© 2014-08-24, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
My parents complain of a mythical pest,
Infesting our house since the 7th of July,
Devouring the snacks, desserts,
delicacies and everything hot, spicy or sweet,
Determined to find the beast,
Fattened with food meant for me.
with a magic wand and on a broom to hunt
set out may it be a lachupakabra or a lepricorn,
Scary or naughty and anything the creature might wield
ready with a device from my dad given to me with a grin
the device, the compass, the guide to the beast
was a mirror reflecting its scaled skin scarlet red
staring at me with cat like blue eye
fierce and mighty.
Not a pest but is a mythical beast
Omega and almighty! It was me
Perplexed, gave up the hunt.
now feasting on poisonously, maliciously, dangerously
in sugary syrup gulab jamuns soaking.
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.
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
A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
I opened my eyes,under.
A bleak atmosphere-
deserted I beheld.
Sinuous channels flowing.
As I walked on vast layer
Beyond the horizon,the
World lay bare.
With my heart in my
Hand,I passed thru
Argyle And Hellas,amid
eerie Sounds echoing as
Coloured dust particles
Created shifting light
And dark patterns.
How came I into this
Three thousand miles,
Across is chasm;beneath
Lay the throne of Hades
Drawing near,I jolted
As I heard a voice.
In the ship, this voice
Echoed in my ears-
"Welcome to earth!"
Heart of the sea,deeper
than a chasm-insatiable
monster like the
Habouring the wrecks
sunken ships and
treasures,the abode of
Silent but troublesome.
Nereus safe haven and
the Nereids on errand
riding dolphins-saving or
destroying at your will
Waves spread to all
within minutes of your
Heart of the sea,so
vast that a journey on
you can't be
A shimmering rare
Underneath u coldness is
cast into oblivion-a
warmth to the
Heart of the sea is like
heart of a woman-always
pregnant after delivery.
Who can fathom your
(Baron Of Ebullion)
At some point, my legs begin to converse
of time spent on the trail, rest now needed,
For like a horse's labors exceeded,
the strength mere food and water can't traverse
Beyond exhaustion, repose will reverse
Thus respite, backpack set down and relieved
of duties, containing my home achieved,
until such time as rested legs endorse
my return to trails, and onward I go;
Traveling far Appalachia’s way,
witness to wonders and all living things,
in far towns and altitude, well below,
where nature’s flora and colors bouquet;
To motivate legs that have become wings.
Written: April 25, 2014
for Craig Cornish's Miltonic Sonnet Contest
In a strange
environment under gross
darkness and whispering
night,I found myself with
We walked an endless
journey across the
woods..eerie sounds we
heard,a crack! then the
undead resurrecting from
marshes,we ran seeking
These creatures howled
as they drew near with
deepened,I called out to
my friend a flesh eater he
Under the whispering
night I stood alone,
seemed the world stood
still,as these monsters
encircled me,I closed my
eyes wishing I was not
Suddenly,a bright light
zombies-then eerie noises
ceased, and the world
revolved once again.
A knock,I realized I
drifted to sleep as my
companion entered my
We zoomed off towards
the horizon under the
The purple Royal banners wave above the armored steel,
of Mongol Genghis Khan the Temujin who rules with wit,
and programs to expand his rights with sublimated zeal,
beneath his will to merge the lands, the warlords to befit.
Consorted by the Börte maid, of Onggirats' kin tribe,
the Mongol martial Temujin is honored by the clans;
a skillful warrior invades the lands while Börte bride
awaits; for no one else predestined is to be her man.
The chieftain slaughters on his pass across the western soils
invincible his tactics are and triumphs ascertain,
advance his rule, his territorial new marks and spoils,
while Börte, granting loyalty, in virtue she ordains.
How valued is the flight of eagles that conduct above,
depict trajectories, and soar to vanish where the Gods
embrace the sadness of unanswered prayers and bridal love,
the Royal maid in loneliness, defends against all odds?
So priceless have become their plumes upon the Mongol plains,
where cold the winds of Northern steppe embrace the ghosts
and Princess Börte of the Onggirat, stands tall and reigns,
believing that her Temujin bestows his kind riposte!
" Support him Goddess of the moon when grooming Charon thuds
and sends the clanging of the steel, commanding thus, the souls,
to travel the descending route of loveless, coursing blood,
and through the gusting of the winds, transports their saddened calls. "
© 01-20-2014, G. Venetopoulos
Who am I?
W-eaned from tender
age,in noble family of ten.
H-urt by the demise of
the tube that brought
me into this theater of
struggles and pains.
O-rdered about by the
whimps of this
world,facing the hurdles
of life daily from
cradle,never giving up
A-fine young man of 28
I am,who has the
experience and wisdom
of the aged.
M-astering the arts of
life-learning from lessons
of life's victims and
didactic poems 'cos man
of fame I intend to be for
I bear the name Bob.
I-lost my poetic gift at a
stage but recovered it in
poetrysoup for invisible
entities say a
lesser being I shall be,but
another encourages me
to move on,for great is
one who comes out of
the shackles of life
undeterred for this is who
Name: Ifeanyi Bob
A crowded table, all suspended in shock
The sound of the shot dimming to a ‘knock’
Only silence, except for the marching clock
The weapon still smoking; an anonymous glock
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?
Loud cries arise from the elongated table,
Jack Frost is shocked, the Tooth Fairy unable
To speak whilst Santa is checking the stable
For clues on the erstwhile maidservant Mable
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?
They searched for hours, called in C.S.I,
Panic set in, would the children all cry?
Sandman confirmed the bunny had died
Batman suspected somebody had lied
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?
Guests were quizzed, interrogations began
The mystery unfolded when Santa Claus ran,
Grabbing the pies, he tried escaping in a van
But was stopped in his tracks by superman
SANTA KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY!
Everyone should have a secret place
where everything is so beautiful, you just belong
as peaceful as a day is long, an out of your usual pace,
sounds of nature all about, where birds sing there song,
Meditation replaces frustration, along your happy trail
moving about streams, pine trees as tall as a waterfall
where pine cones grace a foliage landscape so surreal,
woes are meaningless about green grass, lollypop bushes
A cool spring where skinny dipping hasn’t a sign to obey
trails going every which way, too choose, you can’t lose…
your way, this sunny day, misty spray, a couple out to play,
no weight to bare, deadlines to meet, nor fail too win
time only absent from laughter heard as children frolic there...
in a caressing manner, with her long hair draped about your face,
sounds echo off boulders where water flows by gallons everywhere
yes - your secret place, where good time memories are your true nature
i could sit here. day in and day out
thinking of the most proper way
to let the ink in the pen spill out
but as of late im feeling prehistoric
so much weight on my shoulders
and i dont know where to go
resuscitate my soul
look back up and head to the goal
so much evil around. i feel like the devils workin double shifts just to bring me down.
on the road to redemption
you can take a seat up in the front section
just so you can feel the emotions
in this electric notion
i've done a lot of things that hide the halo
let it all collaborate when i medicate
now look at me, mind workin like plato
formulate a new path to take so i can
maneuver through all the mistakes
we all know we cant change what we've already made
but we can change the next thing we create
startin to sound like a serenity prayer
5 steps till im thirty
and the twenty four before i was never a player
found out when the lights came back on im strictly a lover
its the strongest drink for your soul, when its thirsty
so careful how much you intake or be left hungover
even worse be the one she ran over
i dont mean to come off like im too deep
but the obstacles made there way through just to scrape through
and leave me suffocating
just for me to re-invent a new way to breathe, re-decorating
is your life so complicated
you rather wet up your pillows and revoke from the life you live
just think of your kids mourning
theyll never see that pretty face in the morning any more
cheer your self up
you got a lot to live for
your a gem and im that friend
trynna appraise the value
that you dont see inside of you
just another day for him
searchin wonderin what his purpose is
running in circles
till he found a way through all the turbulence
Through the lonely woods, I may head,
Upon the autumn leaves, I may tread,
At the secluded horizon, I may stare,
And only you, I may see,
In those symphonies of silence,
In those melodies of calmness,
In those euphonies of quietness.
By the silent lake, I may lay,
Till the twilight fades, I may stay,
Then in reclusive silence, I may walk,
And only to you, I may talk,
Through those toungueless emotions,
Through those wordless attachments,
Through those voiceless sentiments.
In the lone meadow, I may wander,
Along the untrodden paths, I may waver,
In companionless seclusion, I may hide,
And only in you, I may find,
The depths of oneness,
The bonds of togetherness,
The cozy feel of coalescence.
In the wilderness of emotions, I may die,
At the merciless daggering, I may sigh,
Through a million wounds, I may bleed,
And only in you, I may seek,
The balm of love,
The warmth of affection,
The heal of inseparability.
Jump in the leaves
That fall beneath the maple tree.
The rabbit hole been covered long,
So it is safe to sleep upon.
I sleep all day in the breeze,
Then finally wake from a dream.
In my dream, the monsters came,
As angels cried and Sirens sang.
We marched around for hours long,
Causing mayhem in the wrong.
We picked up cats by their tails,
Messed up rooms and let out wails.
We crashed cars, boats, and trains.
Knocked down buildings without blame,
Until I heard a voice that rang,
Dinnertime had come again.
Where I would sit quietly,
And even eat my food nicely.
I’d do my homework,
Brush my teeth,
Then go to bed and fall asleep.
If there is one thing I remember
It is what life told
Just open your eyes
All that glisters may not be gold
So who is to blame and whose fault I hold
The halo effect, the one in disguise
Manifesting deception in front of thy eyes
Treat one different because of their look
Why read? Judge the cover of the book?
But you do read others because they don’t have the look
If you understand, how long has it took?
The halo effect, we magnify a trait
Condone the flaws, we magnify a trait
Attractiveness, is this what you mean?
All this talk, my perception a feign?
What I see, aint what it seem?
Huh, thanks for this, as well as that.
The halo effect, my mind was hacked.
All around me
Great cities made of sand.
Green sky scrapers poke through the ground
To thrive in life’s strict conditions
And melt away with the tide…
Great houses made of cards
Form lines, and tightrope walk existence,
Knowing that any moment, the wrong brick may fall
And buckle our world to its knees
As Mother Earth shouts Jenga! from the sidelines.
So while were here
We dance with the Glass Goddess
Poised miles above reality,
Leaping over the heavens on our domino stilts-
We floor it in the sky
Living death in the fast lane,
Seizing the day
Because any moment
We could disappear
A self-written poem begun in Christmas Time,
While it tasting the soup and looking for rhyme.
In the kitchen, neighbor with the quiet tomato paste,
The sorcerer's apprentice, a poet pretty well placed
Near Soups (ciorbe) with characteristic sour taste
With luminous face and much grace added the rest:
As he was sipping and tasting from raw and cooked.
His group had a passionate look at what was booked
For the dinner: These might be meat and vegetable soups.
They had to choose till the coming of the helping troops
For the pig`s sacrifice rite, old mixture of joy and grief
Under the hot and long debrief of the pleasant smell-thief
Tripe soup (ciorba de burta) hard prepared from beef,
And calf foot soup (ciorba de vitel), with green-gold leaf
Pickled soup (supa de moare) with pork and big rice;
But use the dice to decide between spice and allspice.
From the slaughtered pig the village` families prepare:
Carnati - sausages kept in special aromatic smoke
Of wet fir and oak burned at small fire as enjoyed by folk;
Caltabos - sausages made with liver sprinkled with beers;
Toba and piftie - dishes using pig's feet, head and ears
Suspended in aspic like a frozen symphony in red
After cups of plum brandy and before going the bed
Tochitura - pan-fried pork to bid it a farewell, twice
Served with mamaliga - palesta , and red wine with ice,
Or boiled wine with pepper and cinnamon against frost;
So that the pork can swim and the verse were glossed;
Piftie - inferior parts of the bashful pig, mainly the tail,
Feet and ears, kind of meal like taken from a fairytale
In which all are cooked and served in a form of gelatin
In this naturalist field, all the poets smile like Mr.Bean;
Jumari - small pieces of pig meat are fried and tumbled
Through various spices if after all, you are a little troubled
And may falter some poetical from the famous songs
Like "So, good people drink…" couples of diphthongs
Since Saturday to Thursday and make colorful the gray.
This poem was written in the Night of Tuesday to Friday.
( And later we`d find that the housewife had covered with it the pickles cucumbers jar.)
Oh lonely Inevitable Bear,
Padding claws, death in white
Sorrow in recurring nightmare
Instinct’s test; fight or flight?
Camouflage against the fence,
A challenge; my subconscious fear
Ominous slowly moving silence,
“Let me in, there’s a bear out here!”
I do not know?
My Wishes are Simple
My wishes are simple,
my desires few,
to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.
My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,
to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.
My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,
my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,
healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.
I am a misprint,
Ink blot on love,
I remain a maybe
Longing for fact,
No speck of lint,
A hand in glove.
Thunder; a baby
Will only react
When you etch
Whistling on cue
To a dead town.
Dream a sketch
Of silent crowds
This boiling crown
Holes in the walls
To spy through,
Seeking a sort
Of bricked-up sun.
A heaven of halls,
All leaving you.
As we walk like children holding hands , swinging our arms together as we walked slowly through the blanket of the Autumn leaves. The path we walk is as it were never ending .The tall forest trees that lined each side , appeared to funnel off to the distant open sky . Sun now setting leaving a Orange sky that blended with the leaves all about us . That cool evening breeze upon our glowing faces . The whisper of the trees as they swayed in the wind , but the loudest sound of it all was the beating of our hearts . No it was not just the chill of the wind that made our faces glow , it was the love in our hearts that showed. Yes we were children for that moment , full of innocents of a love so pure at heart, a love so true , nothing could tear it apart . A love that memories are made of and dreams that come true .There is nothing so good as the love you have for me and I for you.
The path we walk that seemed to go on forever , was actually our love through out our lives ,as we travel together through it.
Water licks your feet
Far cry from the beating sun
Desert sand to sea
I do not know?
Sure it can live
No it cant feel
Something gives when the cream is real
Two and sixty days ago —
Two months, or so I'm told —
I wandered, wistful, without cause,
Through a memory of old.
A hall of walls I wandered, tall,
As tall as tales I could weave,
But none as tall as this regale,
A story that you won't believe.
I walked near endless hours,
My only friends the cobblestones,
Ringing in my steps the sin
That only time atones,
When upon that pallid plaster
I did spy a shocking sight:
Upon that place's rocky face,
The wall had turned to light.
"Curious," I cooed and questioned,
Calm as I could never be,
"Perhaps it might be that this light
Is rightly mine, I see?"
And as I pondered that hall I wandered,
A chilling change I never chose arose:
That light so rife with delight and fright
Began to open, and I froze,
For that particular portcullis I pondered
Put me in a vice.
I nary noticed that walls in focus
Had changed into a hall of lights.
Transfixed, the light engulfed me so,
As slow as my bewildered head
Could comprehend the candid land
I planned my final stand in dead.
I whizzed through spaces, unknown places,
In stasis from the faceless force
When finally I fell, the frenzied light
Still tight from an unseemly source.
All at once, those two months
Became a fraction of a wink;
The frost was lost as I was tossed
Among the lights of what I think.
And where else would I find myself
But in this courtyard we call love?
My journey never left my head,
Nor bed's unconscious dreamland hub.
Two and sixty days ago,
I heard these words so true,
And in the dark they were my light:
You told me "I love you."
I do not know?
Innocents is purity, which evil preys.
To endure such beings may leave one in decay.
Anger and hate will fill your mind, weakness seeping down your spine.
Fear gives in, you can not breathe and can not stand.
Darkness overwhelming with the end at hand.
A reaper comes to collect your spirit.
But on this day you need not fear it.
A helping hand he comes to give, he sees purity and light deep with in.
Pick yourself up young lad and breathe deep, your life has meaning if you seek.
Your mind is poisoned and your heart frail.
Stay steadfast your light will prevail.
Your conviction is strong, it never falters.
Take your pain and build alters.
Around your heart to ward off the dark.
Your almost there, protect your spark.
From the evil that dwells in your mind,
Leave it there and don't be blind.
Enjoy the beautiful things in life.
So you may better understand your strife.
For the road to glory is long and treacherous.
Do not fear because you are dangerous.
Armor thick forged in pain, spear of light leaving blood stains.
Do not fear the beast with in, control it and give it name.
Listen to the vibrations, now take aim.
He is your spear, your love is the light.
Protect the innocent and fight.
Glory comes, but does not wait.
To seek it out is to seek my fate.
Innocents cries, evil feeds.
A spear of light is what I will be.
Piercing the darkness of evil deep,
Until glory comes so that I may sleep.
You're sitting alone at the bar of the coffee shop and you've got the usual.
black decaf latte, today's newspaper, and that pen that smears blue ink.
It’s the same every night, that's why you come back. Monotony is relief.
The only move you've made in what seems like hours was to refill your drink.
You stare at the latte like you’re about to open a gift.
Lifting the cup high, your lips sip the heavy cream.
Tired eyes watch the frosted window and the drift
that carries the uninvited snow effortlessly past you.
The room behind you is burning loud with conversation;
The same arguments, theories, solutions
It's a sickness stuck in the same old rotation.
Like hopeless addicts, they fiend for absolution
There’s talk of Plato’s cave that shrouds enlightenment.
Others discuss Gandhi’s hidden path to the same effect.
They repeat wise men’s words in circles they invent,
leaving what’s more than a hint of ignorance to detect
The sun sets and you're blinded by a glare as you look to the skyline,
the light glows as it sits atop the trees; you look down with a sigh.
Through the window you catch the eyes of a battered man, the look of isolation and despair intertwined.
The man’s face, streaming with tears, tells a story of one too many goodbyes.
What difference does this man make, which he is or what he needs?
You’ve seen it all before; a different movie, the same old theme.
Plus, the tilt of his head and pain in his eyes speak for him of his own misdeeds
Your stare stays locked as you say out loud, “things are always what they seem.”
You have a heavy feeling bring a question that stays planted in your mind
You wonder now if you walk the very path that hollowed this man's eyes.
The thought turns into voices, the words they say are all entwined.
Getting louder now, the more you try to block them out, the more they intensify.
T-ake my hand sweet doll,
R-un with me,till we are
O-n our way to love spot.
U-ntill the sun goes down
B-enders of time we be
L-oving eachoda without
E-nd till we turned to mist
Iwas moved by different
attempts some wonderful
poets made. It spurred
me into action.
Hope It was well penned.
The English weather:
Rainclouds follow us from home
There is no escape.