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Metaphor Beauty Poems | Metaphor Poems About Beauty

These Metaphor Beauty poems are examples of Metaphor poems about Beauty. These are the best examples of Metaphor Beauty poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

rising from out of this cold frozen wasteland

rising from out of this cold frozen wasteland— 
a blanket white unfolds with pure hope and love
melting snowflakes on such a clear blue ocean
lying on the edge of a world that’s very scared 

while inside this mindset unfolds a radiant light 
sun shining buttercup of such special rare beauty 
in every little thing and precious detail which ever
so sweetly draws me to you my love, my darling

even the sound of your soft voice echoes on
inside with such mellifluous golden whispers 
sweetly enhancing the very music you sing 
to me which plays magic tricks so enchanting 

and hypnotizing my very soul while stealing 
my heart away and bringing me under your
spell and the softness of your wonder and love
both so overwhelming and intoxicating so fully

with this our mutual joy and love so deep and
so rare makes our time together seem so endless 
my love for you are so special and so right that I 
must pinch myself at times to see if all this is real

and so, rising from out of this cold frozen wasteland—
our mutual spirits, souls, and emotions are now ONE
my very special enchantress since fate and love has 
put us ONE on the edge of a world that’s very scared

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (December 20, 2014) 
(Free Verse poetic format)


Details | Verse | |

Sun Dance

~Sun Dancing~         

Bright yellow sparks glisten around the landscape
Sheer environment expose  
Warmth slinks down every step        
So--  Invigorating 
Spur like rays muster in long light
The wolves wait to howl
Soon--Bunch of flowers 
Huddle in with sunlit love
Luminous rave  

By; pd


(For contest) 


Details | Sonnet | |

Gentle Summer Rain Art

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 
8/29/13 
Sonnet 
---------

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~


Details | Verse | |

Well I declare


Well I declare

On artful prints her beauty dwelt,
diffused in haze, a pristine bloom,
ethereal her figure svelte
and French perfume.

Well I declare, her love I sought;
unplaced on canvas her response
hence diffident her stare and thought,
of renaissance.

Alike a dancing muse she stepped
her graciousness, a veil of night,
caressing wave, the shoreline swept
her smiling bright.

Upon the sands she coasted then,
of Springtime incandescent beam
an everlasting red cayenne
and fervent dream.

A classic arts connoisseur
well I declare, my reddened rose,
I yippee yipped with spree and spur
and kissed her nose. :)

© 2014-09-06, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic tetrameter - Iambic dimeter)


Details | Sestina | |

A cyclical life

Here in the heavy depths of insolent woes,
We gesture and talk and waste our time,
Staking claim to each minute of our earthly life,
Running the hours through a clock by the day,
Never sated, not content to find even love,
Buried deep inside the petals of a perfect rose.

So was a metaphor created from the rose, 
Then plagiarized and used for all of time,
Simply here to represent the beauty of love,
A perfection to which we cannot aspire to in life,
Or even death, in the darkest of all those woes,
Great though they may seem by the passing day.

It's a fragile, soulful kind of love,
In the pressing presence of the breaking day,
Where your back breaks beneath ample woes,
And there just simply isn’t ever enough time,
To do what you plan to do with your life.
Then you start to resemble that rose.

Soft and delicate, with easy loss of life,
Mournful of the passage of time,
Counting down, day by dreary day,
Ever seeking out to find dear love,
The theoretical banishment of woes.
Such is the way of the deep red rose.

Has it ever occurred to us not to mark time?
Just to ignore it, along with any such woes,
Just to leap forth and enjoy life,
To live to the absolute fullest everyday,
And just as chosen by the poet's rose,
To find and hold on to, that one true love.

For I find, that it's mostly true these days,
That people don't make enough time,
For laughter and fullness in life,
So preoccupied with petty woes,
That they forget about the beauty of love,
And in doing that, they forget about the rose,

I know what the rose represents in my life,
And I work hard to expel my woes every day,
So that soon I will have time for true love.

*****Written in Sestina for Constance's Poetry 101 contest.*****
******* 5th Place winner*******
******Sarah Blake August 2010******

A sestina is a highly structured form of poetry consisting of six six-line stanzas and a three-
line envoy (thirty-nine lines). The end words of the first stanza are repeated in varied order
as end words in the other stanzas and also recur in the envoy.


Details | Quintain (English) | |

Vitrine-mannequin on a Winter night I

Mannequin

Dependent was and amorous obsession 5.5
in burning desert, fresh canteen 4
his sidewalk's fantasy and thoughts' digression, 5.5
the strongest coffee's roasted bean 4
(their phantasms met beyond projectors' light). 5

Exquisite stood upfront, unmoving posture,
distressing emptiness of soul,
unreachable resort her sightly stature,
(- expending skies and ozone hole),
prêt à porter vitrine, on Winter's night.

Behind the glass, a still and standing shadow
abates his hopes (gray sky suspends),
( he takes his foolish stance of wooden scarecrow,
- that through odd sprawls the fields attends ),
was she the blessing of the Gods or else?...

His allegorical, but lonely feeling,
instilled inside, without defect,
while speechless phantoms crossed sky's ceiling,
the downpour soaked, warmth to reject,
(ersatz their wedlock's knolling, fast dispels).

Her uppish, elegant of stance, adjacent,
within arm's reach, kind of abstruse,
albeit abstained, of secular indulgence,
(his head acquired a tilt obtuse),
invited him through faultless, charming lies.

A brass trumpet dispersed its jazzy spieling,
he, thoughtless, leaned on some red booth,
adored her raised one hand's refined appealing,
(- that altruistic, smiling tooth!),
and gazing to the stars but vacant eyes!...

© G.V. 11-16-2013, All Rights Reserved

(Iambic Quintain following 5.5, 4, 5.5, 4, 5 feet on each stanza. 
The rhyme scheme follows this pattern: 
ABABC DEDEC, FGFGH, IJIJH ... and so on.)
(Allegory, Humor)


Details | Free verse | |

Existence

"the earth's dark veil slivered the heaven's, 
 crimson shadows birthed the moon"
Kristin Palm 
 
Existence 

"the earth's dark veil 
slivered the heavens, 
 crimson shadows 
birthed the moon"

into a thousand crescents 
Every prayer, ever uttered 
was written in the dust of 
these forsaken ravines 
Oceans flung their waters 
into the wide heavens 
of man's total Regret 
There in the silent void 
of consequence 
the hidden forces of
Creation met 
to silently knit 
each shattered Atom
 of beauty 
into existence again 

Suzanne Delaney


Details | Free verse | |

Star Gazer

When she smiled at him ----

   the world could wait,

   with its myriad of contradictions

   and infinite postures to feigned joy;

   there could be no deceit in her light....

That gorgeous assurance that he was as alive

   as the vast heartbeat of the cosmos;

   what a whetted pulse to quicken and burst

   upon the shoulders of stars,

   and saddle comets to flame....

   ride the rays of the sun....

As a child again under the spell of ice cream,

   shiny-toy and heroic dream;

   the world could wait,

   (when she smiled at him)


Details | I do not know? | |

Rachel

Rachel

Rachel, sweetest looking peach on such a high branch
A teasing sway in her round hips, full of undiluted
gorgeous femininity
Eyes as blue as sky and a voice that is felt all over,
more like a warm breeze than sound
Aesop might recommend the lesson of the sour grapes,
but his Greek eyes never saw such a perfect
northern beauty as Rachel. He would have to
eat his words and tell his tale in reverse; how this unreachable
treasure made all the low hanging fruit taste sour

Damn!


Details | Free verse | |

Not Missing Loves Beat

Not Missing Love’s Beat

Not missing love’s beat . . . .
Sails to you this golden bright morning rising so high 
Sails waving with light, joy, and such promise and hope 
One smile gasping breathless always for you my love

As you walk with me deeply into Eden’s very paradise
Dancing my heart love on that yellow brick road of dreams
Dying to be with you my love forever and ever and ever 
Dreams inside of eternal youth with my heart pounding so	

Awaiting the very day to come when I stand before you 
Down on bended knee holding your hands warmly smiling 
Kissing each and every single fingertip so exquisitely 
I shall ask you to be forever and always with me my love 

You will be my Queen with dazzling jewels of an ocean wide 
The other heartbeat echoing as two becomes one complete
Our thirst for love and passion is almost unquenchable
And my very psyche is afire with excitement when we caress

Sleeping at night my love brings me into your dream world
Where it’s me and you and you and me together floating
Through the very ether of time breathing rarefied air so
Deliciously as we’re hopelessly mesmerized in true love 

When I awaken from our nocturnal dream trance so joyously
We hold one another so lovingly and caress so warmly at once
We kiss passionately and longingly in a most sublime spirit while
Not missing love’s beat . . . . 

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (December 24, 2014) 
(Free Verse)


Details | Free verse | |

Dementia

He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
Tough.
Independent.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died, 
he has not been the same.
Sad
Lonely
Empty.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping, 
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it, 
until now...
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain, 
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Oh well...
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best, 
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows 
what happens next.
Sedation
Medication
Anger
Hurt
All results of
dementia


Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

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. 


Details | Free verse | |

A Night To Remember

So sweet a kiss
The murmuring tunes of Spring
In the fragrant breath of night
Hums within my slumbering ears.
Like the whispering trees dancing
In the softest dews descending
From the vapours of the skies 
When the soothing night
Was young with the glimmering moon of May.

The poor labouring clouds expanded wide
In the muted distance ripe with coldness
While the storming of the Eastern wind
Drifted through the blossoming fields
Graced by the sultry springs in the lulling hours.
I pulled the weary drapes
When the night grew old with silence
From a crystal window 
Mirrored against the dumb fields
Black with the night.
A soft mist exudes the dead wind
Curled around the nodding branches.
Then I stealed away to the vacant spot
Where a crackling fire
Invaded the mournful breath of silence.

Lipsing sounds intrudes the night
Upon the quiet slopes and verdant span
Where the blossoms gently bow
Kissing soft the silver spray
Fluttering in the starry distance.
There sauntered I
Under the gladsome sky
To pluck a cherry from its stem
Outstretched beneath the sobbing moon
That in the dawning misty hours
That silver orb of light expires
When the sun had greet the day
With a golden sigh!



















  


 


Details | Tanka | |

ITTY BITTY HOPE

awe of gentle breeze

fragrant shadow of delight

moonlit hope aglow..

catch the air of her appeal

as she fades into the night  


Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Contest Name: Third & Final Itty Bitty Contest 
Form: Tanka


Details | Free verse | |

Steel Butterfly

A weak worm hatched
From an egg that is fragile
Trying to survive the world
Full of predators and guile

Romanticsm has been just an instrument
To be confined in the ego
And a faint serfage
On behalf of love upon herself

So she claims herself
No longer merely a companion
Metamorphosed as time goes by
A mild steel butterfly


Details | I do not know? | |

Wrestling Verses


Wrestling Verses


Spilling ink onto paper,
reading tea-leaves,

fragments of mirth,
shards of anguish,

remain,
trapped in rolled-up sleeves.


Turning up my collar,
as blue as these days that slip by,

scattered verses plunge into,
the fathoms of unknown waters.


My ink runs, slips, treading lightly,
penning odes to love on bare skin,

your skin,
your bare back my canvas,

my fingers tracing, caressing, scribbling,
homages to our laughter, our tears.


Wrestling verses,

lie spent, exhausted,
famished and parched from saying too much,

still,

my fingers tickle your soft skin,

my ink would run dry,

were it not for your gentle touch


Details | Free verse | |

What Is It To Be A Tree

What is it to be a Tree?
Do trees ever mind being so close ...so intertwined ?
Do they ever long for space as I do? 
Do they prefer to be so meshed…branches touching branches
 all the time or do they like me long 
............................................................for autonomy

Do their branches reach for another’s touch? 
….................stretching to find it?
Do they cling and pine when isolated …as we do sometimes?

When a tree falls does another one grieve?
...............................................................

Do they sometimes wish to be free?
To be as free 
as he does....... from me?

Does life always include such serious stuff? 
Or do trees simply shift in the breezes
of superfluous fluff?

Do they ever 
wish 
to find
the sea?
To fly 
to fly?
just 
like me?
What on earth is it like ....to be?
to be a standing…a standing only ...are they lonely? 
beloved tree?
What is it?
to be a tree?



Details | Free verse | |

To Eden Part I

What pushes my pen in this whimsical notch of the world?

   Something whispers to me like an elder dream....
  
   and the trees hang arbored 'oer a little stream of sea,

   the feathered folk flit and flute,

   and sip the may-season rill;


Where sun has finally come dipping like a diamond.....

   I am measured to this mighty moment found;

   and there is holly even in the most forgotten shade,

   though royal (even) ----- with garland diadems made 


It would seem the angels have foretold this:

   to not forget the most beauteous of days;

   with proud hours honeyed, 

   the long-loving minute endures in thy heart,

   and remembers the kiss of legends

   despite realms of sadness and dark,

   the withered wind which blows old upon the sad hills....

   too ancient for wise men; for in youth how pink the heart

   and varied, new struggles are many -----

   yet plain with simple solutions


Mercy hath not a mind for memory....

   swift its song, its house clean of enemies lurking,

   no bogey-man skulking the midnite hour,

   no roving-a-wraith scratching the old attic boards;


Forgiveness sleeps in the quiet wood, 

   and wakes with whispers of faith,

   with the ease of nestled lambs and recollected days;

What poor tragedy to fret with dark remembrance,

   to furl hades in the denizens of thy heart ----

   black-tongued as the devil in his den!


What fool would prefer a scowl to a smile?

   enemies come and go.....

   friends come and remain,

   when the house is quiet with memories....

   of youth and adventure in the old daydream glass;

   more precious the ancient hours 

   and parched the pages of first chapters,

   first beginnings, first faces in the ripples of time's pond;


Details | I do not know? | |

The Warrior

The Warrior

My pencil is my sword
My eraser is my shield
And when I go to war
My paper is my battlefield 
When life is to much
This is how I express the way I feel
And so I write such words
As murder, stab, kill
When people read these words
Misunderstanding they think I’m insane
But this is just how I vent
All my anger, frustration and pain
People that don’t know me
Think I look like a bad man
The people that say they do know me
Think I live the life of a madman
All of these things
Circling in my head
Sometimes I have to wonder
Would I be better off dead
I used to be a somebody
And my reputation would reflect
That I used to be a person
To look up to and respect
But now you can see
By the trembling in my hands
That all I am these days
Is a tired, broken man


Details | Free verse | |

The Dark Artist

Death,
A fate foretold 
Since the beginning of time

Master of time,
Misunderstood, 
And feared by many. 
Some say your power is a curse
Some a blessing

Emancipator of souls,
Bestow freedom 
On my poor soul.
Trapped in this prison of torture
Called a body, 
Which places limits on my true potential

I understand you, 
Hiding behind broken hearts
Are benevolent intentions, 
A noble purpose

Bringer of peace, 
You give rest 
to those tired.
You free those soldiers
Trapped in a game of kings

A dark artist. 
I see the beauty in your work.
With your scythe
You paint a masterpiece,
With your scythe 
You write a magnificent tragedy.
You are the perfect ending
To our tragic story


Details | Haiku | |

'the sea'

(beautiful!) immense and Poseidon-like,--the sea washes o'er my soul.


Details | Free verse | |

Just Be

Sometimes I admire the littlest things
A simple rock. A blade of grass. 
They need no future goals, no tax exemptions
They don’t need to go anywhere or be anything
They just are. 

Sometimes, especially when I’m reading life insurance policies,
I envy the rocks and the grass
And try to be like them for a moment. 
I sit perfectly still and give myself to the wind-
And it whispers in my ear:
Just be.
And for that moment I don’t need to go anywhere or be anything.
And at the snap of my fingers, 
All the complex widgets and gizmos that make up my life
Fold into paper airplanes and fly off in the wind.

Jacob Reinhardt
10/07/13


Details | Free verse | |

Who Am I

A new photograph floats to the surface
Playfully dressing up as the world around me
Hat, striped socks and all
Tiptoeing at the top for one last sweet moment 
Before sinking back into my ocean mind.

One after another they arrive
Single file,
Steeping my eyes in the world 
As the minds shutter, ever fluttering 
Strings together this conscious stream I play in.

My photographs fade in time’s wrinkled arms.
Joining their brothers and sisters at the ocean floor,
They hold hands and try to answer the question that is always asking itself:
Who am I?

Jacob Reinhardt
10/3/2013


Details | I do not know? | |

The Beach of Promises

The Beach of Promises


1.


Fingers entwined, barely touching,
turquoise waters teasing your dancing toes,

strolling along that serene deserted beach,
our promised dreams within aching reach.


2.


Hands clasped, holding on,
sea-breezes tickling the nape of your neck,

walking together, alone, vowing to never breach,
the dreams dreamed on that faraway velvet beach.


3.


Hands in my pockets, alone,
traces of you linger, teasing,

lost in my scribbles, your memory fading out of reach,

my thoughts ablaze, now and then,
catching a whiff of your fragrance,

wafting through alleyways of nostalgia,
your hand in mine on our pristine beach.




Details | Verse | |

Wildflowers

Standing out in a field alone, a little white flower named Daisy longed for someone to share her world.
One day a blue flower named Bachelor Button entered her world they became friends.
 She knew by his name that he was not the propagating kind, but that didn’t stop their relationship she called him BB short for best bud.
The seasons of Spring & Summer they enjoyed the sun, laughed in the rain and held on fast in the Fall.
Winter came it was long and hard they were both covered in a blanket of snow, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again or even survive .The snow fell     then came the ice, this went on for months.

The Sun shone brightly the first day of spring. A few days later warmth of the sun melted the snow, Daisy popped up .
 I’ve been waiting days for you to come out, said BB, they both chanted hooray!
The snow was completely gone in a few days, the birds started building their nests , bugs were crawling around ,butterflies began to visit the two flowers. I wish there were more of us Daisy said, to BB.

They laughed as the sun and wind blew through their leaves.  Then it started the sun and rain took turns until one morning the air & field was filled with the smell of flowers.
 
Daisy and BB looked at each other and asked what kind of flowers are these ? they’re not white like daisies they’re not blue like bachelor buttons. They did not know the birds and bugs carried the seeds from the two of them and the caterpillars buried them under the soil.
The seeds from the new flowers were then carried by the winds many miles away, they landed in fertilized gardens and flourished, although they faced danger everyday. 
as they were called WEEDS ..
 The Gardener pulls weeds out of the garden so they don’t choke the flowers, which cost a lot of money and require lots of maintenance.

However there was a Gardener who saw her friends spending hours weeding their garden , that they didn’t have enough time to admire and enjoy the labors of their love
So she set out to give a home to all the weeds ,she provided a place where they could fit in and multiply, they required no maintenance, rain provides their water .

The best part of all is their beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
 Ask my granddaughter-- What are those flowers in the garden ?
  She will answer "WILDFLOWERS " their parents were Daisy and BB


Details | Narrative | |

Two Trees

Oh tree to my right how you mirror the left
Tree on the left, with great vigor you grow
When waters run dry, your roots search below
To the ends of all branches; lush fruits like Eden
Hundred thousand leaves dance in the wind

Oh tree to my right what phantom did come
Yielding fruit no more; nor vivid leaves to sway
All branches have ceased, no more but a stump
Fifty thousand leaves dance in the wind

Oh tree to my left so valiant, so true
A whip of your branch & firm grip of the wind
To the right, one seed you give; let life grow anew
Solitude tis as fire bound for a tree, a simple truth to all
Fifty thousand leaves dance in the wind

Oh tree to my right; look, now you're grown
As was, now are; from the tree to the left came your rebirth
Teeming with life & beauty displayed
Hundred thousand leaves dance in the wind


Details | Ode | |

From the Shepherd to His Flock: a Parody of Lord Byron's ''She walks in beauty''

THEY graze in beauty on the land
     of grassy glades and dewy dales,
and all that's best of dark and tanned
     meets in their aspect and their tails;
thus mellowed to that tender hand
     which Shepherd to gentle glen compels.

One fleece the more, one hair the less,
     had half repaired the shearless grace
which wreathes in every woolen tress
     or darkly tightens o'er their face,
where mouths serenely sweet express
     how pure, how dear their grazing-place.

And on that rump and o'er that round
     so strong, so firm, yet elegant,
the baas that win, the hooves that bound,
     but tell of days in meadows spent—
a flock at peace with all around,
     a drove whose milk is innocent.


01/26/2014, "First Poem On Soup" Contest







Details | Rhyme | |

Red Roses

Their petals are falling as their colors change
It wasn’t this way before but is it strange?
These roses are dying in delicate sweet sorrow
Will their love shed too? Or will it see tomorrow?
Petals and love falling slow like soft snowflakes
A little change in season is all it takes,
But will these roses bloom again in a new morn?
Will their love come back to greatly adorn?

Will their beauty be gone forever once it fades away?
Or will it come back to make everything okay?
For what will the roses be worth if their beauty dies forever?
Will the image and value from them permanently sever?
Will the light in their eyes suddenly become dark?
As their splendor and significance steadily grow stark? 
Or will they rise like light at the beginning of dawn?
And be reborn more beautiful than a swan?



Details | Free verse | |

the Rose


                 The Rose innocent white, soft pink, yellows 
                colors touch your soul vibrant red to amethyst

                enhances beauty yet a thorn awaits to break skin
                as life does piercing your heart with a thin pin.

                My life has shed drops of blood through each petal
                 as if in return for the love and beauty you feel

                hence pain underneath patiently waits the bloodletting ~

                The rose symbolizes love yet vulnerable to hold
                for when you open your heart it can be left bleeding

                The best of surgeons can not beat your heart
                It is the inner faith and God himself whom gives strength 

                whispers in your ear you shall live you will exist
                your life meaningful as the water and sun to the rose

                 For I am your God  your existence is not over yet .
                        You must Live ~You must Bloom 
                       
                 


Details | Free verse | |

The Storm

And the storm calls to me in ways you'll never understand
A gentle call that urges my soul forth
The lighting guiding a path for my feet to walk
Between the stones and ash of all that once was
I stand in the echoing silence of the rain 
It drops down upon my skin like the blessing waters of heaven
Soothing me, lifting the weight from my body 
I feel at once as if I am home
Standing amid two dimensions 
Caught between two skies - here and there
The night wraping around me in warmth
The gentle wind lifting me off my feet
Drops from the clouded moon washing away my body
and I am left just a soul, an essence 
The storm calls me forth from beneath my roof
Beckoning me into its depth 
I stand among the reeds in the basin 
They dance and sway as if welcoming me
And I sway with them back 
Caught up in the power that charges the air
That threatens to sweep me away 
If the ground will just loosen its hold
The thunder rumbles a low welcoming growl
And I get pleasently lost within it
I am so small compared to its vastness
I close my eyes and succumb to the skies wishes
Rising higher until my feet no longer touch the ground 
My fingertips touch the liquid color of the stars
A sigh drifts from my lips
There is no need of thought to stay afloat
There is no demand to breathe in air
No crushing weight upon my chest
As my lungs struggle to survive
There are no struggles here
I make my bed on blackened clouds
And give in to the call
The storm has claimed me as its own 
It was such a struggle to stay upon the ground
When the storm would call me home


Details | Sonnet | |

Lonely sky

I look to the skies hoping to see a sign
A sign of a stars shining like diamonds
I toss the thoughts of you to the heap of stars
All the happiness dressed with flowers
I took time to remember you singing
A voice so sweet it turned roses yellow
I yelled to the gloomy mountains for you
And light shone like twilight in heaven
Through demons and angels my plea recognized
And I finally feast on your beauty like a vulture
Thou thoughts mingle in space and time
I remembered your dancing eyes with adventure
So keen to let the desires leave the dust
I saw you in the sky strolling like a queen towards eternity


Details | Lyric | |

My Butterfly Song

My Butterfly Song

Oh, my how you are the most beautiful thing
I have even seen upon this summer brings,
You shine above the sunniest days
In full view in July sunlight rays,
Even in the winter in cold of snow
I just have to tell you, even though,
Your vibrant arms and eyes thus sparkle 
under shining stars
Under this full moon your beauty surely does glow,
I've seen your beauty light the world on fire
Or did God tell you if you know,
Your mind is full of harmony of everything
Please tell me for I really want to know
In these lyrics I'm singing for you so,
You're my beautiful love of a butterfly
You can fly high,
                fly high
                  fly fly fly
Upon these starry nights aglow
I'm viewing you as you fly high
                                         fly high
                                           fly high
                                            fly fly fly

Written: Sept. 22, 2014
Eve T.M.Carter


Details | Free verse | |

Daybreak

I wake on the sand
Right near the beach
You have yet to awake
Far out of reach
And Daybreak has arrived
A beauty unlike any other
Comparable only to us, girl
And how we love each other

So I gaze up alone
Marveling up at the sky
The warmth of the sun
Drying my eyes
I'm reflecting on us
Oh how each other we trust
I'm just so happy we're together
And I think to myself,
Just as this sun, we'll last forever

Then returning to be with you
I lay again now
Place my hand gently
On your warm tender shoulder
While I think of our lives today, love
And how they'll be when we're older...
I know there'd be no other way
So "I Love You" I make sure I say
To you, each and everyday


Details | Free verse | |

Distance

Are we not all
The night sky for our atoms,
A brilliant display for our elements,
A grace for our composure?
All are vivid; All are rich,
But as with any star,
Dimmer with distance.


Details | ABC | |

Push Up

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
goin about
searchin wonderin what his purpose is
running in circles 
till he found a way through all the turbulence





Details | Free verse | |

Snowflakes

a slight breeze and loosely packed snow on yonder branch comes tumbling down in myriads of tiny snowflakes each flake becomes a miracle glistening in the streetlight like a diamond


Details | Rhyme | |

In The Meadow

In the meadow is a quiet place
Little creatures run around and give chase
In the meadow were it is peaceful 
Little creatures have dreams that are cheerful
In the meadow were the sun some how shine
Little things of nature will combine
In the meadow the wind blows softly
Little creatures get bother abruptly
In the meadow life goes on with delight
Little creatures scurry when it becomes night

In the meadow the grass some how gets tall
Little that we know it makes sounds that call
In the meadow we hear whistles
Little sounds that some times chimes like crystals
In the meadow the water flows
Little things beside the water grows
In the meadow we smell moist grass
Little we know that nature has sass
In the meadow we wonder what will be
Little is what we know about the meadow you see


Details | Free verse | |

The Glass Goddess

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 
Into



Jacob Reinhardt	
10/15/2013



Details | I do not know? | |

'Give me drink, rest, and solitude'

Give me drink, rest, and solitude--
these are all the things I long for.
Give me as well your finest food
and I'll ask of you, lass, no more!

My bonnie lass, what's the matter--
why are you all sorry and alone?
Don't be sad because you're fatter
than most, lass, for love loves its own.

Sweet lass, I'll tell you a secret.
If I were a young lad again,
I'd pursue you without regret!
But as I am three-score and ten

years old, indeed, I can never
be the youthful lad you most need.
But your pain won't be for ever:
for your heart will refuse to bleed.




Details | Rhyme | |

Passion Fruit

Your body is like succulent fruit
Vine ripe, plump and tasty
I must quell my desire to gobble you up
I mustn’t be so hasty

Your skin so smooth and supple, 
Tender to the touch
Wanting so to taste your flesh
My yearning is just too much

Your sweet aroma fills the air
And I absorb your pleasing essence 
Entering my nose then body 
Where it reacts like effervescence

My mouth is now watering
And I’m unable to fight
This thirst and anticipation
For the first delicious bite

I finally give in and peel away your clothes
Like the skin of some exotic fruit  
The goodness I find hidden within
Is exquisite without refute

I savor every morsel
The taste of you is divine
I’ll never share you with another
The pleasure of you is all mine

You satisfy my every desire
My hunger and thirst you sate
No other can compare to your passion fruit
It’s the best I ever ate.
 


Details | Clerihew | |

Not, yet

I dreamt myself as poet-frog
And good Fancy` Fairy
Would stoop to pick my verse…
But she didn`t come.


Details | Couplet | |

Life

Life is like a hurricane.

Life, is like a heavy rain.

A lake of pain like lake Baikal.

Tears, flow like a waterfall.

People are like granite stone;
in the end your'e left alone.

But what of the good things?

Like the sound of when a church bell rings?

Or the miraculous, beautiful way 
one helps another through troublesome day?

Tragedies of life aren't fun, 
but in the end we learn a ton.

Though pain we do remember,
the flame eventually turns to ember.

You see, the thing about walking through earth each day, 
is The King turns the curse to a healthy pathway.


Details | Free verse | |

A Departing Memory

I know you.
Candles lit, incense fuming,
You like it when I bite your neck, just hard enough.
Blankets thrown about the room
So recklessly, they refold themselves.

And we roll down a hill together,
Kissing the leaves, tickling with our eyes,
Laughing with our hearts.
"You'll just leave me for the next girl you find."
"Yes," I say. Because only
Nothing
Lasts forever.
And it spills through the cracks in your hands
The moment you grasp it.
Like water from a stone.
She bites my neck
Drawing lines of ecstasy down my back with her fingernails
Spilling into me, fighting my words.
"I leave when the sun sets."




Details | Quatrain | |

The rose that grew from concrete

Many a mind hurries past
the gripping splendour
in search of beauty, not to last,
while continuing in rejection of grandeur.

I look as the moments pass
at the wounded walkway.
The sand flows through the hourglass
and time conforms to seconds and seconds to day.

There, in the heart of pain,
at the crack of dawn
grows through the mundane,
purity, life’s mystery in an image drawn

Red bursts open in colours array
but expectation it defied
as time had not intended bloom ‘till the following day
and still nature’s scarlet tears are cried.

Dusk was meant to encompass
the brooding gem in the snows
but the bud unfolded in its stubbornness
and yet not its pedals froze.

I suppose the dark of night
and the bitterness of day
could not smite 
what would have its own way.

The bud grew beautifully in strength
and blossomed in wisdom,
knowledgeable in great length,
yet its leaves forbade a future grim.

Somehow it lacked endurance
and what blind humanity refused to meet
became the trampling of our innocence:
the rose that grew from concrete.


Details | Lyric | |

Nature's Sigh

The Black butterfly waves away her adorations
All she seeks is seclusion, subsuming slave to mortification
The Dear Air is all she can breath, captive of imaginary dreams
The Beacon resonates, but the hope isolates
The Wasteland's silky fingers caressing the virgin's face

So she is now, the covet of the damned
Programmed to every victim's pain
Carrying the weight of every sorrow
Drowning in wrongs she does not know
But paradise is at loss; she must go

Nature sighs after the bite
All my hopes fading
Don't look at me with those sorrowful eyes
How do you know exactly what I'm feeling?
I'm just the ghost flower passing by
And you can hear nature's sigh


Details | I do not know? | |

My Wishes are Simple





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.





Details | Quatrain | |

Behold My Pen

Behold my pen
that writes and scribbles
and bleeds blue ink
in drips and dribbles.

That crosses paper
in bites and nibbles
and weighs my thoughts
in spite of quibbles.

Words as strange as
this and then.
Letters and numbers
like S and 10.

Thoughts and feelings
I've had before.
Memories waiting
the pen to bore.

Lines as long
as stretching can.
Jots and jolts
where each began.

Loving strokes
to those I send.
Messages made
that they might blend.

All these meanings
from the heart.
Behold my pen.
Their only art.


Details | Ballad | |

A lesson from the Buddha

 A Lesson From the Buddha

The Buddha had been getting round
And listening to the crowd.
He’d often sat there silently
And heard them moan so loud
About their own sad burdens
And all the hurt they’d had.
So he thought up a little plan
That didn’t seem half bad.

He called the crowd together
Said “listen here you guys
I’ve been thinking for a great long while
And I have thought it wise
To grow a special tree for you
And here it lies before you
Now listen well to what I say
I’ll tell you what to do”

He said “this tree before you
It’s to hang your troubles on
Each one of you must go to it
And your troubles will be gone
As you hang them on it’s many branches
Then what you’ll need to do
Is take yourself some others burdens
And make them part of you”

The people thought that this was cool
It seemed a grand old way
To rid themselves of all their burdens
It was a happy day!
As each smiling so broadly
Placed there burdens on the tree
Then they thought for just a while
And they began to see.

As each the truth did hit them
More restless did they get
At least they knew their burdens
So each with no regrets
Did race back to that trouble tree
To grab what they had hung there
The Buddha smiled good humoredly
He had made them all aware.

29 July 2013 @ 1805hrs.


Details | Haiku | |

All About the Music: Sole On Soul

Click clack; Sole on soul.
Swaying shoes to the rhythms 
The beat makes you whole.


Details | Free verse | |

Heartbreak

He wants to say "I love you,"
But keeps it to "Goodnight."
Because love would mean some falling,
and she's afraid of heights.

T.K


Details | Rhyme | |

The halo effect

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. 


Details | Verse | |

- Temujin -

Temujin

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
(Iambic heptameter)


Details | Free verse | |

Kiss kiss Bang

And as I sent my lips back down unto her navel,
I heard the crack.
The brilliant explosion that gave existence
All of its fury. I knew that it was beauty
Like hers that keeps this place spinning
…holding all of this chaos together,
So that moments like this could happen.
So that art could find its way.
So that blood could pulse.
I watched the universe break apart
And come back together slowly,
Pulled in by the gravity of the sparkle
In her eyes.
Her essence bleeds into my world,
Holding my realm together with auburn
Filaments tied to her crown of comfort.
I exist in-between moments of 
Spectacular destruction.
Taking in stellar iridescence 
With the awe of a child…
Until the glow is too 
Much for a mere mortal,
And I succumb to the darkness.
Only to be reborn again. 
-James Kelley 2012 ©


Details | Ode | |

Ode: to Loveliness

Loveliness that's deep and that's rare
     is like a rose that blooms afresh
(like the rosebud that's new and fair);
     lovely in aspect and in flesh,
it lives in sunlight without care
     letting all the sky breathe and mesh.

Its loveliness is hard to find
     unspoiled and as innocent;
and with its tint and with its rind
     it quells my musing discontent.
As it sighs (softly and from behind),
     my nose takes in its lovely scent.

Its beauty transcends its locus,
     imbuing the eyes of my soul 
with romantic, ideal focus
     that makes the heart and the mind whole:
without it the world seems callous
     and grace would not be in control.



















Details | Epyllion | |

EMPOWERING INNOCENCE

written 21st June 2013


A 'single'.. rose grows with purity, into a field, en-fenced
 from that 'moment' it buds, watch...as its passion, and grace.. intertwine
It begins to bloom, with such confidence
 showing off.. its elegance, with 'complete' dominance
For you are left... 'totally' unaware of an, 'entire' field of daisies, swaying.... such poetry
 such passion, and grace.. still exists in the heart, of humanity
The worlds future... 'completely' relies on 'peace' to become heard
 but how far has...man let it go, our hearts hold hope, for the same entity
Peace, love and harmony
 for those "who" choose to believe
Jesus freed, the curse we received by 'Adam' and 'Eve'
 they have found, love and peace
Taking it upon themselves, they help... the next man, to be 'free'
 within God's own time, we 'will' see, heaven on earth
For it is 'still' a gift... we all receive, at the hour of our birth
 


Details | Free verse | |

Cuddly Teddy Bear- Cuddly Me

Who ever saw a skinny teddy bear?
What an absurdity!
Aren’t teddy bears good for cuddles because they are tubby?
They are nice and round and with a nice little tummy!

I’m cuddly like a teddy bear
Cuddly, cuddly, cuddly
I’m not thin like a stick
I’m pillowy and dreamy to hold
You get a great big handful of love
When you squeeze my arms
Got to give a reach when 
You take me in your arms
But when you need to snuggle at night
Put your head on something warm and pillowy
Your arms around something soft and round and snuggly
I’m your snuggly teddy bear
Snuggly, snuggly, snuggly
When has this stupid world
Fallen out of love with what children still adore
People who have more than just skin and bones
People who are round and a little tubby
Cute and a little chubby
Sweet and a little snuggly
Just like my adorable little teddy
cuddly, cuddly, cuddly 
Just like………ME!

Eileen Manassian Ghali


Details | Haiku | |

All About the Music: The Infinite Magic of Lyricism

Pop may be catchy
But not lyrically deep
Case in point: Chris Brown.


(N.B. Poem written after hearing "Don't Wake Me Up")


Details | Rhyme | |

Shimmering Darkness

She woke up everyday 
to the beckoning of death's toll. 
But decided to embrace life, 
pulling herself from the darkened hole. 

With a new brightness in her eyes, 
she lived life as partially buried gold. 
Never afraid of the darkness, 
or what the future may hold. 

Shimmering beneath the dirt, 
her beauty shall now unfold. 
True legacy lies hidden to reign, 
for a prodigy has risen from bitter cold. 

One example of grace goes far, 
farther then any story ever told. 
With strength that comes from deep within, 
that's been held from days of old. 

Among the majority she lived, 
witnessing atrocities flare. 
From her soul she would always give, 
though no one seemed to care. 

As the bells of sadness began to ring, 
she would rise above the gloom. 
Out of darkness and despair she would sing, 
with a melody that filled the room. 

The tears that had fallen proved as strength, 
to her ever-impending light. 
Onward traveling to any length, 
for what she believed was right. 

When darkened paths shimmer, 
despite the pangs of apathy, 
through life she will always glimmer, 
no matter what the tragedy.


-Collab with Dan Kearley! You're the best, Dan!


Details | Ode | |

Ode: to the Nymph

SHE floats in grace, like one in love
     with love itself and all that’s lush;
and when the mythic sprites above
     unloose her from the morning's blush,
she descends like the milk-white dove
     with the notes of a singing thrush.

With golden locks, as light as air,
     and liquid, limpid eyes most blue,
none is like her or can compare
     to her beauty and lovely hue
which lift the humble souls that dare
     come to her for her balmy dew.

As cloud and rain Nymph and a muse
     with the nimbused crest of a saint
which no man can therefore refuse
     or with mean words tarnish or taint,--
then let all Creatures freely choose
     to honor her without constraint.


1.) Ngoc Nguyen; 2.) Nature motif; 3.) for "Impress me II ! ( Old/New )" Contest















Details | Shape | |

Absently Stranded

Greased, thoughtful, sad but..
generating beauty from sadness
Saturating the body in the earths finest ales,
Sound waves as variable as the sea,
Breaking at chance intervals of..
unnerving calm.
Almost like cutting through foam,
where pockets of air appear from nowhere,
allowing sounds to reverberate around the gaps provided.


Details | Free verse | |

The Sea Rolls With The Breeze

Seagulls seagulls by the seashore open your eyes and you shall see more of the world's magik in front of your face why oh why would I ever replace the memory of that foamy sea crashing onto the shore while the seagulls are laughing with the children once more who feed them with eyes full of wonder to their curious delight seashells from dead oysters shine of the moon's pale sea light as they mate like the birds and the bees my sea kisses the sky when it rolls with the breeze.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Canvas of Night


The Canvas of Night


Stars like sprinkled sugar,
lay strewn across the canvas of night,


enthralled by the wonder of the cosmos,
my dreams take to the heavens in effervescent flight,


I bathe in the beauty, soaked in sublime delight,
absorbed in moments of bliss, transfixed by the serene sight.




Stars like sprinkled sugar,
lay strewn across the canvas of night,


and my being is infused with feelings of hope,


for even in darkness  I find the sprinkled sugar of hope's light.




note: special thanks to one of my heroes, the late Dr. Carl Sagan, for making science accessible to younger me, many, many moons ago.





Details | Villanelle | |

From merry green, the dream ascends to Skylands

From merry green, the dream ascends to Skylands.
Comely words of comfort put the comma in the gray;
Hushed roads are dusted with sugar in the sun`s hands.

Hesitating white clouds meet the night`s dark commands,
But bring the dawn`s serenity for the a golden bay;
From merry green, the dream ascends to Skylands

Luminous black jack oak stopped the moving sands;
The winding road might have danced on the hills` clay;
Hushed roads are dusted with sugar in the sun`s hands


Recollections` last wave in the glass blowers` light stay,
Smiling from Spring Lake to Thistle Shimmer`s way, 
From merry green, the dream ascends to Skylands, 

Pine Barrens` silken grasses are kissed by birds of height,
Chateau Inn looks at the grave laurel and blueberry gay, 
Hushed roads are dusted with sugar in the sun`s hands.
In Paradise, rivers flow under Blueberry Month` sight.


Details | Quatrain | |

Streams

You are the air that I breathe
The sunshine on my cheek
But a shadow of a dream
Mi belle magnifique


Details | I do not know? | |

Where Wild Violets Grow

Where Wild Violets Grow

Scribbling these verses,
caressing your bare back,
simple rhymes,
flowing from my fingertips.


Scribbling verses,
sprinkling odes to fragrant promises,
your smile lightens the burdens,
off my heavy heart.


Scribbling verses,
soaked in countless kisses,
the moonlight waltzing on your skin.


Scribbling verses,
feeling you,
your love never ceases to flow,


through the streams of my mind,
to a place of our own,
where wild violets grow



Details | Sonnet | |

The Broken Girl-not me

Is my life not tortured enough for you to see? 
I am broken as can be. 
My heart is torn. 
My tears stain these perfect floors.  
Why are singing with glee? 
Why do you not care about my every plea? 
I am trapped in your arms. 
I am the hopeless moth. 
How did you pick me? 
What is it that you see? 
A girl untouched by life? 
A flower blooming in the desert? 
I have said goodbye to my loving integrity.  
You took that from me through R-A-P-E.


Details | Personification | |

Prism's Hue

I the stained glass panel
Impeccable by craftful hand
Adorned with the color of rainbow
Stand tall but unviewed
You my dear are like the sunlight rays
The starlight's twinkle
Yes
You are like the moonlight beams
You shine through my hue
Prisming my heart’s colors to illumination 
Touching off Opalescent glass seen by all
For my soul now engulfed by thy beauty 
Made perfect with thy light
Viewed by all


Details | I do not know? | |

celsius

Fallen snow will remind of me/ it is snowing ... 
Slowly as in the dream/ 
Boy word-beads/ with signs on his spine/ 
He kisses fine/ 
Your eyelids /

And it snows ... It snows /so slow/
It does/ and you're thinking of me/ 
'Coz it's warm/ it's better to stay in warmth/ 
Waiting for summer dim/ 
It is snowing/ slowly like in the dream/ 
Flakes/ go round/ playing the music theme/ 
You've been looking for rescue/ 
You searched in wine/ 
But it's in me/ 
all the rescues are mine/ 
It is snowing/ the snow is fluffy and white/ 
If you see darkness/ I'm deaf and blind/ 
there's the cast of time/ on the arm/ 
But I discern the light/ 
Dreams/ upon your eyelids tips/ 
Prepare you for winter drowse/ 
And it snows/ 

Fallen snow/ will remind of spring /
it will crumble and crackle in vain/ 
It will snow / fluffy /white/ and slow/ 
And you'll become whole/


Details | I do not know? | |

My Love

my love...

my love blossoms amidst the thunder

across the oceans and the beyond the seas

my love reaches out and touches

the moments of bliss as the loneliness flees

my love is simple
with profound feelings of yearning desire

my love rages within
the furnace of this aching heart's unquenchable fire

my love basks in the warmth of the knowledge

that in the spring it takes root and it will flower

my love breathes in the light fragrance

of her hair after her warm and delicate shower

my love remembers drowning in her eyes

of those ethereal moments frozen forever more

my love recalls the fleeting ticking of the clock

each minute apart stabbing at my very core

my love she knows I need her so

for she needs me just as much

my love she sprinkles light flourishes of her sensual touch

as my love for her continues to ceaselessly grow

my love reaches down into the crevasses of my of being

my love for her is held onto deep inside

for in the coming of the cold ache of seperation

my love settles between the folds of her heart, for 'tis there that my love for will reside

my love like an eternal dream caresses me in wakefulness and in sleep

and that is the feeling that I shall cherish

a feeling of love that has settled in me 

a feeling so pure and a feeling so very deep...


Details | Haiku | |

Perfect Beauty

purest of all lakes
sweetest cake ever tasted
loveliest music not yet composed


Date:18/09/2014


Details | I do not know? | |

For Bruce Springsteen

for bruce springsteen...


it was a rain-swept monsoon day

way back then, so many moons away

when i felt the music strumming in my veins

setting me free like a runaway horse without any reins

you sang of simple truths, 

your verse spoke to people just like me

in my lonely, wasted, and desolately quiet night

as you screamed out tragic human wrongs, and of everyone's plight

'bobby jean' spoke to me

of that girl down the street

glimpses of whom, we as innocents would furtively meet

and 'the river' that flowed through my ever-barren heart

led me down further roads of thunder

when slowly i finally learnt that the hardest part was fighting on

and never to surrender

to the hard-luck dreams that were born to run

while i danced in the dark 

with memories vivid and stark

even as i whined like that dog who for forever lost his howling bark

and then a 'human touch' came along

and 'better days' seemed real, not just words in a song

and still you sang and swayed and spoke straight into my unseeing eyes

as gardens of secrets were opened, and as your fist punched the skies

in an anger that i too felt and in whose cauldron i too burned

as we saw murder get incorporated, while on its wobbly axis, our fragile world apathetically turned

and then suddenly i was told that i was all grown up

working on a highway of scattered ideals

and absolving myself by sprinkling some coins in a waiting cup

well, after all these years of walking along so many a thorny road

with an armour of your verse covering me, even as i hear them taunt me and even as they continue to goad

but now i can feel myself fading away, into the bleakness of this coming night

just like the ghost of that old tom joad...


Details | Free verse | |

Her Final Words

"No." She whispered before drowning into her sorrows.
Her life had been a simple happy one. 
There were no pains and no troubles.
Life was life and people were people.
Life was simple.
and life was all about tomorrows.
Life didn't know about sorrows.
Her sorrows.
Those same sorrows that she drowned in never existed. 
They were never there, but where?
First to be sad in the naive town of joy.
Sorrow became contagious and what was known as happiness no longer was there.
It was non-exististent. 
A meager thought 
and a blessed memory.
She tried and tried.
She failed and failed.
Life was no longer hers.
For Pain was her only possession.
Her curse.
She lived and she died.
Yet, her legacy was passed on.
Never was it gone.
"No." She whispered before drowning in her sorrows, 
"Save them."


Details | I do not know? | |

Conviction

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.


Details | Free verse | |

The Garden

The night air is cool and collective,
Running through my hair and face.
Even when I’m with people, I feel alone
In this cold blooded space.

It’s like walking through a garden
Of all your favorite foods,
But none of which can substantiate
For that one so special mood…

That mood, 
that beautiful frame of mind.  
I only go there with you,
And only you can make it unwind.

I discovered a passion unlike any other
And in my finding I opened a world,
A world I did not know existed.
I’m on cloud nine every time I think of you,
Just the thought of you brings joy to my heart.

This garden holds many beautiful things
Many delightful pleasures,
Many cold nights,
Warm nights,
Difficult frights,
Ecstatic times and unsystematic times!

But they mean nothing to me,
While I’m alone…

Walk with me through this garden.


Details | Free verse | |

A Gemstone's Secret

Crystal clear pearls of the earth                                                                                 light passing through all the colors                                                                        Growing rainbows in dark mines                                                                                 true grit’s face swallowing one hue                                                                        growing glow reflects another                                                                             Iridescent individuals of time                                                                                    gems of their own ambience                                                                                beautiful yet unclear crystals                                                                                    sharing lovely colors but most                                                                                   greedily hold on to one vibrantly                                                                                   So the next time you admire one                                                                            earth’s rocky pearls from the enclosed                                                                         The beauty displayed is not being totally true                                                                The color seen is held captive by another                                                                        *                                                                                                                      *        by John Beam  for METAPHOR: CRYSTAL 3/12/2014


Details | Lyric | |

Love and hope

Love and hope
-Nikhil Chandwani
In the frosty of an ancient first light
That lazily lingers on;
Love, will give you hopes

In the middle of an intense storm
That trees you tattered and worn;
Love, will give you hopes

Even while your tears fall like rain
And your sour soul screams aloud
And you believe there’s not anything missing to gain
As you walk lost in a crowd…

Love, will give you hopes.

When your heart begins to break
And you think, “No more can I take,”
Love, will give you hopes..

When need outweighs your means
And you have not anything left but dreams;
Love, will give you hopes.

Even while your tears fall like rain
And your sour soul screams aloud
And you feel there’s not anything left to gain
As you walk lost in a crowd…

Love, will give you hopes


Details | Epigram | |

HER BEAUTY A POEM

HER BEAUTY A POEM



She was not an
Apparition,
Coming out of the sphere of 
Hallucination, 
But
The very incarnation of 
Beauty
Conceived in the realm of
Inspiration 
And
Wrapped in a faultless, blood and flesh 
Harmonious poem by 
Imagination, 
A poem written by cupid 
At his best 
And
Nurtured by the muse of 
Poetry, 
While 
The rest of us present, 
Mere mortals, 
Gazing this divine vision,
Seemed like
Meaningless words, phrases and 
Sentences
Placed at random, in a state of
Confusion,
Utter Scribbles on a leaf  
Of paper!



© Demetrios Trifiatis
     06  March 2013


Details | Romanticism | |

Hear the Wedding Bells Toll

I walked down the countryside
and watched the rolling, green hills
and the curve of dirt road turned by an old mill,
the wood fences held the white stallions in,
and they looked at me, eyes black, and a mane pearl white.
Alas' two stallions off roamed the hills together
I smiled and imagined their love they shared.

As I came down the road,
I came to a town,
small with a large church in the center
and I heard the tolling of wedding bells.
I continued to walk
and the doors opened wide and a bride and groom
stepped out hand and hand,
smiling and proud.
I stopped and looked at them.
The bride looked at me and smiled... I tipped my hat to her,
and she came over to me and handed me her bouquet of white roses,
she beautiful and kind with her smile,
I looked at the groom, her new husband, her true love,
and I announced my happiness for them.
They kissed and left on a carriage, pulled by two white stallions.

Love be so true,
and love be so kind,
love so honest and so beautiful,
holy and glorious,
such beauty in marriage,
such lovely sounds of the rich tolling of wedding bells.
I continued down and entered a pub,
alas' I bought a whiskey and drank in celebration,
too the newly weds,
and I sang a cheerful tune,
and I could still hear the beautiful tolling of Wedding Bells.
Love is so beautiful.

.12.19.2013.


Details | Free verse | |

My Metaphysical Monument To JAH


(1 Kings 8: 27)



I Would Build  YOU  Seven Pillars
Made of Pearls of Such Dimension- Prized
I Would Build  YOU  Ten Giant Columns
Made of Pure Crystals Up To The Skies

And On That Holy Edifice
of 400 Cubits Elevated To Size
I Would Build  YOU  A Thunder-Temple
A Thousand Stories High

This Would Be My Metaphysical Monument To  JAH ...

And Inside The Thunder-Temple
I Would Build A Lightning-Fire
It Would Burn A Flame of Love So Hot & Bright
That Lasts Forever & Never Die

I Would Place  YOUR Name  On A Pedestal Throne
of Precious Gems - No One Could Pry
Of Such Height & Depth & Length 
& Everlasting Arms Wide 

This Is My Metaphysical Monument To JAH ...

O' My Rock of Ages  ... Because  YOU  Are My Strength
& My Fondest & Most Fervent of Ties
I Would Construct This On A Mountain Top
That Stands Up Past A Million Miles

It Would Touch The Moon In Reflection
And The Stars Would Be Inspired
and Eclipse Every Man-Made Structure
& Orbit  In  YOUR  Eyes

This Is My Metaphysical Monument To  JAH ...

I Would Fill The Air With Perfumed Prayer
Celestial, Sparkled-Incense Would Rise
I Would Fill The Space With Music
& Exalt  HALLELUJAH  In Chimes!

I Would Bow Down In YOUR Beauteous Presence
In The Aisles & Among All Tribes
& Exult In The Awesome  Atmosphere
of YOUR Essence So Wise

... In My Metaphysical Monument To  JAH ...

I Would Fill It With  All  YOUR  Worshipers
& All  YOUR  Wonders  & Praise  Realized
& We'd Sing My Metaphysical Monument
In Paradise ...   To  JAH !

This Is My Metaphysical Monument                
And Yes, This Vision Is Heaven-Sent      
Spirit-Height & Depth & Width & Length          
In My Whole-Soul, Solar-Sacrament            

&  My Devotion's Endless Measurements      
Built From A Bonafide & Blessed Blueprint        
Constructed Thru Carpenter's Consent           
& With The Master-Worker's Instruments         

It Will Tower-Up In Testament !                
So All Will Know - Everywhere I Went               
It's  The Metaphysical Monument                  
My HalleluJah - Horizon-Event!                       

... My Metaphysical Monument  ... To  JAH
 

              Written & Copyrighted ©:  9/27/2013 
                        by:  MoonBee Canady


Details | Blank verse | |

humanity

i want to be something
i want to be original
but not “original”
i have terrible vision
i have my moms toes on the right, and my dads on the left
i am double jointed
i am see by the teacher differently in every class
from quiet as a mouse to complete smart alack 
i love the idea of watercolor
but don’t like painting
my life feels like a run on sentence
But my eyes will worsen with age, originality will become an idea,
my feet wont matter, 
my joints will fail,
i’ll graduate.
there will be a period at the end of my sentence;
what am i waiting for?

i don’t sleep much
i think sunrises are great
late nights are long
im emotional
i write
i draw
i act
just like everyone else

hate is a strong word, 
but not as strong as loathe 
(so we can use hate here)
i hate john greens characters
i hate society
i hate gender roles 
i hate Instagram
i hate living in a world where
blindness and damage is a trait of beauty.

but don’t miss the point just as so many others have
i love humanity
with our freckles 
and desires and tattoos
our dreams 
our cliches and clichés
our pets and cameras
and music and fuzzy carpets
and sports and peoples devotion to them
i am in love with humanity 
maybe one day i will be more content
with mine.


Details | I do not know? | |

Love Endures

Love floats by,


reaching,
tantalising,
meandering,


tip-toeing past pain,


leaping through walls,
weakening the barricades,


of the most private heart.



Love settles in,


trusting,
searching,
dissolving,


quietly beyond anguish,


erasing the desolation,
soothing a battered spirit,
enveloping the shivering soul.



Love stays, it is true,


love endures, as do you






Details | I do not know? | |

You and I



You and I.


You.

Your heart blazed,
with a warmth of spirit,

soothing,

alluring,

soaked in truth.



Your smile burned,
branding me permanently,

gentle,

tender,

enveloping my being.



Your love was complete,
from the depths of your soul,

unsaid,

yet fierce,

bathed in silent knowing.



Your dreams were poetic,
fluttering in the afternoon breeze,
infused with the distilled essence of rhyme.


I.

I squandered your generosity of spirit.

I vainly discarded your priceless poems.


Now I stand,

alone,

empty,

desolate,

wasting away,

rotting inside, day by day.




Details | Free verse | |

Moon

Might I ask about what the moon means to you?
It means the world revolves in a transcending path with a satellite.
Why does the moon shine in the midnight sky?
It shines because it is a guide between the world of the dead and the living.

So does the moon fill the air with hope?
The moon itself is hope for people.
Why does the moon pull us in with such soul searching?
It is because we feel that the moon is part of our every day life.

Children who asks these questions; I have strive to tell them some truth,
And for the adults out there I created a little Moon lite poem to sooth.

So the moon is our light in the darkest hour of the night
With romance in the air that is so bright
We all hold hands once in a moonlit walk
And with such passion we would talk
The moon gives us our pull on each others heart
With a dinner that we take part
The ritual of wooing ones heart is a great feeling of love
The moon is always there to shine right above
In time we think we are blinded by the moon 
But to tell you the truth it reflects the sun light during midnight noon
It gives out a warmth in the darkness
We probably do not think of it less
Because the moon is our memories of our past 
It shows it everyday and night and always last

April 13, 2013


Details | I do not know? | |

I Stand, Alone



I stand, alone.

Scratching for my truths,
peeling away the veneer,

I stand, alone, before this
impregnable cliff so sheer.

Cocooned in my solitary shell,
wrenching a smile from a tear,

I stand, alone, a little odd,
and definitely quite queer.

I stand, alone.


Details | Quatrain | |

Dawn

A blue bird sings,
a raven calls,
how sweet the sound,
how strange the fall.











Details | Romanticism | |

Happiness Sings a Song

A boy named Happiness
walked along the full streets of the world
with a smile upon his face.
He had no friends,
he had no family
and had the worst luck with women.
No one took him serious,
till they needed him at their darkest days,
they'd use him like tissue paper;
to wipe away the tears
and crumple him up and throw him in a corner
(they couldn't even put him in the trash can)
he too good for them,
he too good for all of them.
He smiled,
he sang his big heart out,
making the girls cry
and the boys jealous.
One time a boy named happiness fell in love,
with such a beautiful, smart and couragous woman,
with such a sense of humor
and when she laughed
his heart sung,
and his eyes brigthened
and the little boy named Happiness,
was for once in his life truly happy!
He found what he wanted,
not begging nor buying for it,
he walked his path,
till time ran out,
and all hope was lost.
He continued to walk on,
and shedding no tears,
only with a smile,
he found such a key that unlocked a hall
of happiness and glory.
Happiness was all the boy was truly looking for,
and he truly found it,
when he was least expecting it to come.
Happiness sat all night and day,
looking up at the changing skies,
moon,
stars,
clouds,
sun,
and that beautiful rose of a woman,
in his arms,
warm and secure,
she smiling up at him
as Happiness sang of song so sweet and so beautiful
that the birds all gathered around and joined in the harmonies.
Then Happiness and the woman kissed the night away
in such a moment so dear as happiness flowed through the air.

12/3/13


Details | I do not know? | |

Distant African Nights

Those Distant African Nights...


1.


The shadows swayed in your candlelit room,

a cool breeze teasing your bare back,


streaks of lightning forked in the Johannesburg night,

as my hands stroked your hair,

kissing your soft mouth,

holding you,

ever so tight.



2.


You whispered that you loved me,

and I kept silent,


the rain fell, 
shadows danced,
thunder rolled,

the breeze teased your naked back,

you whispered that you loved me,
as my lips found yours,

the rain washed over our tender nights,


lightning and candlelight,

etching poems on your burnished skin,


yet,

a fear gnawed at me,

deep within.



3.


We parted ways,
and you could never forgive me, you said,


now, after numberless thunderstorms,

the rain that falls,


echo the countless tears that I have shed.



4.


You are long gone,

far away,

happy, I pray,


yet the memories persist,

those precious moments shall never, 
ever,

like the Jo'burg rains,
trickle away,

and I wish you well,
for loving me as you did,

for it was I who was not worthy,


then,


and it is I who is not worthy,


now...



5.


You were always true,


it was I who always,

always,

refused to,


to give myself,


completely to you.






Details | I do not know? | |

The Sieve of Time



The Sieve of Time



Cast ashore,
along the banks of time,

whirling through the passing years,
clinging to my futile scribbles set in rhyme,


Cast ashore,
thrust into an unrehearsed pantomime,

clenching slivers of joy as weariness descends,
lulled into a peaceful slumber exhilaratingly sublime.


Cast ashore,
hazily adrift, a dandelion seed on the wings of time,

trapped in the sieve of spiralling memories,
caught between pristine bliss, and reeking slime.


Cast ashore,
flung aside for no discernible crime,

my human heart thuds with elusive hope,
though battered, bruised, and covered in grime,

I stagger ashore, 

alone,

embracing each moment of detached, oblivious time.



Details | I do not know? | |

Your Whisper

You whispered in my ear,
a breathy secret, hushed.

“I love you”, you murmured.

I said nothing,
lost, in your arms,
I found a home. At last.

“I love you”, you said,
I said nothing,
lost in my thoughts,
I found peace. At last.

“I love you”, you said,
words failed me then.

They still do.


Details | I do not know? | |

and I will come

…and I will come.
When the first snow falls down/ 
when the fall gives its rights/ 
to the winter/
you know I will come/
for good or for bad/
I’ll board the train/
Passing by / stations/ and countries/
I promised/ and I remember/
You said “there’s no fortuitous meetings/

…and I will come.
When the first snow falls down/
When you’ll lose the trace/
When my firmest snickers/ wipe out/
I will/ I will come…
Unexpectedly/ knowing solely the door/
Just the road / for sure/
Before/ take you I’ll ask/
“are you ready to go?” / 
You are ready/ I know/
All the noise doesn’t matter/
I don’t haste/ will be later/

…I will come.
When it finally turns out/
That November is overthrown by December/
When the first snow falls down/
Will be clear/ that nobody is remembered/ 

And I will come…
Somewhere in chest/ between ribs/
You slashed me/ with thoughts/ 
I can feel it with lips/ crawling under my cloths/
Our world is alive/ our life/ we’re alike/
And I….

I will come.
When the first snow falls down/
When the death is changed into fate/
When the winter gives up/ 
To wait/ for spring/
to stay with shining sun/
I will come.


Details | Romanticism | |

To a Red Rose

As I wake to a sunny day,
a crisp and cool day, I may say;
I dress and go to the garden-
ad I gaze upon the beauty,
I see a beautiful gift sent to me-
you my dear, swing thing;
sent down on angel's graceful wings,
to a lovely tune that a nightingale sings-
Yes you my red rose.
You the one who makes my heart sing.

To a red rose,
my favorite of them all,
as I walk in the meadow of love,
no other flower compares to your own
beauty and color;
so pure and lovely
I shed a tear for you
my red, red rose;
so beautiful-
I love you.

.12.22.2013


Details | Prose Poetry | |

When Love comes smiling

When Love comes smiling,
with orange wing-tip butterflies
and red red roses for curls,
she will come and lay her sweet hand
gently on my face, as my heart warms
the glaciers of my soul,
as my feet turn to angel's wings 
and I fly with Love.

Oh Love is grand,
and oh Love is kind;
she smiles at me,
with orange wing-tip butterflies
and red red roses for curls,
oh her beauty it restrains me from reality;
oh my dear Love come to me,
show me,
love me,
oh my Love comes smiling,
with the sun on her side
and the moon at her feet,
with orange wing-tip butterflies fluttering away;
she will smile and lay her gentle hand on me
and sing me a song,
oh yes my dear Love;
I shall sing to you as well a song of good hope
and charm.

.2.18.2014.


Details | Free verse | |

The same sad song

She was bent on torment,
spinning around in her heels,
leaving marks on the dance floor
as he spit his faith into a beer can.
She wept for the morning,
in her own way. 
Her comfort cradled
in the weathered arms
of a transient artist.
 A 6 string that he’ll never play here again;
But she always finds those same
strings that tie her to this town.
The notes that keep her going,
                                               dancing,
                                                            writhing under every moon
                                                                                with men like him.
Hoping the sounds they make together,
will sate the burn of dawn’s solace. 
Praying for a song that will make it til’ morning.
 
-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Unusual Fragrance

The unusual fragrance looms above my room, 
Its owner not yet known, 
Its purpose still a mystery I assume 
Sweeter than any other fragrance I ever own, 

Its mood is ataraxia, 
Cold soothing scent, texture so smooth, 
Like dying in a peaceful euthanasia, 
I have it trapped in a booth, 

Smells like angels on a spring break, 
Dancing gloriously in the water fall, 
With a rattling feeling like an earth quake, 
Its particles bouncing from wall to wall, 

Clogged in my mind is a fog of disconcert, 
As I battle my feeling to a perfect stranger, 
The feeling of unrest causes discomfort, 
As the unusual fragrance puts my heart in danger,


Details | Free verse | |

Hard to Not Look, Easy to stay Staring

I've allowed that burning boat to float off without me
Rarely ever thinking about dissipating the flames, 
As it is hardly worth the time and effort. 
In Truth, 
There wasn't much of a future with that situation.
No matter the attempts
No matter the appeal
It was all for naught
The only thing I worry about now
Is looking back at the Flames
And hoping I am not entranced
By their Dancing Light


Details | I do not know? | |

A Pretty Little Doll

I watched them
Primp and polish.
That pretty little doll
She sat quiet and still.

I watched them 
pluck and tease
 that pretty little doll
Pluck and tease.
Tease and pluck.
Her hair
Her makeup
Her clothes
All down to the last nail
Polished and shined

But when that 
Pretty little doll
Stepped into the sun
She was done.
For as it’s known
A pretty little doll
Can’t stand alone.


Details | I do not know? | |

A Chipped Heart

A Chipped Heart...


Dreaming, my heart brittle as glass,
my solitary facade a pitiful farce,

shards tearing out of my skin,
seeking release, from cages within,

I am lost, in the dream,
bellowing out a silent scream,

torn from reality, drowning in the now,
yet I refuse,
I refuse to succumb,

I refuse to bow.



My chipped heart, may be wounded,
wreathed in pain,

still,

I believe, love, truth, belonging,

will take my hand,

again...


Details | I do not know? | |

The Happy Forrest

Whilst I was walking through the country
I came upon the strangest path
It took me to a little Forrest
where all the plants and trees could laugh

At one tree I stopped and sat 
Then asked "What are you laughing at?"
The tree replied with greatest glee
"Because i am a happy tree.."

"The air is clear, 
 The sky is blue,
does that not make you happy too?"
I stopped and thought for just a while
and as I thought I came to smile
Our earth is here to give us pleasure
so all the good things we should treasure.

And as I laughed there, with the trees
upon my face i felt a breeze
Then suddenly it all was gone.
No laughing trees
Not even one.

Written by me aged 13...


Details | I do not know? | |

Within Me


Within Me

Flowing through the rivulets of my everyday thoughts,
memories of you surface, gasping for air, breathing in,
permeating, absorbed by the pores of my ageing skin.

Famished, greedily gulping mouthfuls of fractured life,
awash in distant yesteryear, when your feathery kisses,
banished the vacuum, dispelling my anguish and strife.

You are eternally carved, and embroidered into my soul,
I wash ashore, smashing against the boulders of the now,
seeking solace, begging for absolution with my empty bowl.

The book of fate is sealed shut, the tea-leaves have been read,
nothing remains within me, the burden of smiling has been shed.

Now I am stranded, between dreams and the empty years ahead,
searching for forgiveness, in the miles I have yet to wearily tread.



Details | Free verse | |

An Idea So Rich

Allowance
That is the true crime to my mind
Allowing entrance of this Idea
An Idea so intoxicating 
It Blinded Me
Clouded Judgement
Drove me through a Fog
That I should've never gone through
The Burning Light
It was the only appeal I could see through the Fog
The only thing that even enticed my interest
Was it Fantasy?
Most likely
Fantasy Enshrouded with Arrogance of my own Design
A Design So Flawed
So Young
It would have been the End of myself
Had I continued after it

Perhaps, allowing the boat to float on
Was the best I did for my well being
Staying Or Even Attempting to go Aboard
Would have proven Fatal
In possibly, the most dangerous of ways..


Details | I do not know? | |

She

She

She smiled, gently,
her warmth infusing me,
with a serene stillness of time.

She settled, slowly,
in my waking thoughts,
a soothing balm of simple joy.

She remains, scribbled,
on the walls of my fractured heart,
memories of happiness that once breathed...



Details | Rhyme | |

Eye Gazing

I see myself in
Languid spherical repose
I watch my eyes
In your eyes
 
Gazing into the wonder of you
 
I lose myself as
Windows of jade lash brief
Casting the very glow
Of my love’s desire
 
Upon the green waters of your soul
 
Turquoise hue paints the sky
Over my shoulder in your eye
A crimson bird does fly
Soaring both deep and high
 
Into the beauty of your uncharted mind
 
The most amazing image that I’ve ever surveyed is the warm light of forever falling through the panes of us…


Details | I do not know? | |

Passion in D-Major

Passion in D-Major


Feeling, the sensuous brush-
strokes on a canvas,

swirling,

to a symphonic crescendo,

of our shared heartbeats,

fading between the notes,

feeling your soft body entwined 
with mine,

your form bathed in my infinite 
kisses,

our orchestral desire rising,

conducting a shared fusing of 
passion,

... the music echoing ...

over the precipice,

on the brink of dazzling rainbow 
hues,

lost in the void,
of an eternal instant,

plunging through the depths of 
rhyme,

pleading,
forever pleading,

for a prolonged,

bouquet of shared time.


Details | Free verse | |

Silver Tongue

His fingers left blood on the strings 

but, come time to walk away he hadn’t really learned anything.

Course and dried brushes sit atop the rubbish,

His mind held a perfection too delicate for his clumsy hands to create.

He opened his mouth to sing like a jay but, instead of notes it was rust that fell out. Part of the wear and tear of early adulthood.

But then, this same boy picked up a pen and found some paper. The pen in his hand felt as natural his own bones and he began to write.

He wrote every tear

He scribed every star

He built towers from mountains with every line

High enough that the angel’s just might hear them.

He made pages for chapters of his life that could make those seraphim weep sapphire tears.

He could write the wind blowing across the nape of your neck in Autumn

And make you feel the chill on your skin.

He could articulate the sad beauty of a lover’s quarrel that ends in tears

If they cry, it makes it all more real.

He documents the history of a war inside himself that will never end.

The loss and the gain,

But not those of monetary nature.

When life begins to scream around him

All he must do to silence it is to put it in a stanza.

The boy’s tongue can pave the way for good intentions, and we all know those can fall South. He finds strength. And with this Strength a power.

Finally the boy knew his gift. But how is he meant to use it and who will truly listen to the personal strands of his soul he ties together with punctuation?

And now that he has tasted the pleasure of his power, will that be enough?


Details | Blank verse | |

Ashes of Hope

I drifted like a ghost
Among the blackened ruins.
Trying to remember laughter,
And the joy once here,
All I see now are
The darkened stones.
Charred remains mocking
The majesty of the past,
And I wonder how
Such destruction exists.
No colors, only shades,
As though it’s all
Dressed for mourning.
Yet…what is that?
There, amid the ruin,
And the fallen glory,
In the darkness
And piled up ashes,
There is a small green
Plant.
A flower, to be exact,
Half buried but 
Still so determined.
A growing hope
In a harsh, dark place,
Saying “I’m still alive,
Despite the destruction.”
New life, new hope.
New dreams, 
A rebuilding on top
Of broken foundations.


Details | Free verse | |

Window

In one corner of my room,
That is shaped like a tomb,
There is a window, where I sit
And see my world through it.

I see the rising sun,
I see the melting dew,
I see the blooming flowers,
I see the sky’s changing hues.

Through it
I embrace the fading sun,
I live the joyous rains,
I feel the flowery fragrance,
I walk those lonely ways.

Through it
I float with the summer clouds,
I breathe the winter breeze,
I touch the autumn leaves,
I celebrate the cuckoo’s springtime songs.

Through the window,
I see my world.
Neither the autumn leaves,
Nor the springtime songs;
Neither the winter sunshine,
Nor the summer rains;
Would have been great
Had it not been through my window rails.

Through my window,
I see the world.
In the window, lies the entire bliss;
Beyond the window is only an illusion.

Suyash Saxena


Details | Light Poetry | |

soft strength

pleasure leaks as your sweet harmony joins my vicious endeavors, a new genre for your love streams, my manhood elevates your passion capturing your emotions' allow me to bury my transgressions please rescue me from my intentions. purify my soul open my eyes to a love untold', conquer my heartbreak align my romance with the deepest parts of your fears, catapult my ambitions unmask my ignorance sweet dear for the sweet edge of my sword of bravery admires my prideful gain.


Details | Free verse | |

Tree Houses and Trigger Fingers

I wish I could take this noose from my tongue.
It doesn’t seem to work against the honesty of silver anyway. 
I wish I could hang it over the neck of my thoughts and pull it tighter every time they try to choke me with guilt or pessimism.

Well versed in the words it takes to build things up. My lips and sounds paint pictures and build grand cities where the price would be too high but, people would still pay to live there.

Better versed am I in the words that call for demolition. I need not even speak them before, I set all the beauty ablaze and cast those cities to rubble. All the people paying too much can flee or stay but, as the founder and captain I am charged with going down with my ship.

If I could just speak a balance.
Articulate a safe place. 
A perfectly leveled tree house with room for one or two.

Lately though, my words and thoughts shake and stutter. 
Trip over themselves like my hands reaching for a pen or a pill bottle.
At least that bottle is half way full, I guess.

In love with the thought of the very idea.
I see now, with no lenses, softening my harsh reality.
I must once more, try to focus on myself. 
Love myself and prove it. 
Reach for the things I need with conviction and not the unsure hands of a child, I've been sporting so well.

I can find a meadow.
No path required.
I will not rest there, I promise but, I may take in the scenery along the way. 
I need no hand to hold my own in respective appreciation.
I can see the wonder painted even brighter when it burns with a pang of solidarity.

I will work my words,
My tired feet,
My heavy lungs,
My heart with dented armor.
I will train my hands steady.

And this time when I put something in my sights, I won’t have to hesitate before I pull the trigger, painting the walls and ground with my red victory. 

A flower may yet hold promise,
Even in the wrong climate but first, the seed must be planted. Will it bloom?
We are getting ahead of ourselves.

Clear the board and start again.


Details | Romanticism | |

Oh, beauty so soft and so clear

Oh, beauty so soft and so clear
like a cloud in heaven's skies
as such beauty were ever too see
me in a loving way
my world would become clear,
like a crystal diamond.

My heart would skip beats
as I would make my merry way
down streets filled with young lovers
holding hands till the crack of dawn.
I would be in Love,
till the last grain of sand
from the eternal hourglass would run dry
Oh, if beauty such as hers'
came my way,
spared a passing glance
I'd sig to the angels above,
as they plucked at their harps.
Oh, if beauty so good and bright and loving
should shine my way
then I shall go to her and say,
"Be mine, my loving angel on Earth, be mine
oh sweet maiden."

If only...Oh, if only...

.1.6.2014.


Details | Rhyme | |

True Love

When Art birthed Writing,

She had no idea how deeply for her daughter I’d fall.

This fille of hers, so pure in every way,

And upon each occasion we meet brightens up my day.

Of her I dream at work and likewise why I come home running.

Her body is filled with sounds that titillate my ears,

The rhythm of her movements brings me to tears.

And when we’re apart,

I contend with a void within my heart. 

But then, when we become intertwined as one,

The consummation of our love shall not be undone.

She will complete me as a man,

And I will live to show her beauty as long as I can. 


Details | I do not know? | |

Port of Call

Port of Call


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

with the breath of the ocean a caressing balm,
soothing pained memories away,
to the swaying of a solitary palm.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

feeling the brushing away of all past turmoil,
on a quest for solace, ever so hard to find,
yet comforted by the crashing of the waves,
as the tide cleanses all pain,
and leaves despair far, far behind.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

drenched in a sea-breeze of mist,
that hushes the ache of bygone moons,
tasting the salty tang on my lips,
as the burnished sun,
over the distant horizon,
swoons,

and dips.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

searching, ever searching,
for a slice of solitude,
as memory bids a final adieu,
reaching under the sea so vast,
and seeking comfort in the depths,
while embracing,
the tomorrows to come,
wishing that they be true.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

seeing my truths drown,
as they slip beneath the turquoise waters,

feeling my heart ablaze,
with a passion that rarely falters.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

yet knowing that I am home at long last,
wishing the waves would wash away,
the defences that once stood,
like an impregnable wall.


Barefoot on a talcum beach,

alone, not lonely,

I have found, at long last,

my final port of call.


Details | I do not know? | |

Saturday Rain in Johannesburg

Saturday Rain in Johannesburg…


…With sighs of torrential passion,
the heavens shower teardrops,

weeping with me,
as memories of you come cascading back,

skin on skin, ablaze,
moist kisses, fiery,
gentle whispers of undying love, murmured,

in another life, another time,

far removed from my present, a desolate state of despair,
wallowing in the grime.

…

The rain keeps falling,
each teardrop stinging my face,

tasting the salt on my lips,

I wonder, do you still remember the caresses of my fingertips,

between breathy confessions, and vows of eternal love,

before you left me, stranded on an island of solitude,

wounded as a wingless dove,

bereft of life,
stripped of all traces of fortitude


Details | Free verse | |

To Catch The Moon

How does one capture the moon?
Catch hold of its beams and tug it 
to the earth?
Rearrange the stars
So it might mistake the 
earth for horizon?
Should it be coaxed down
Or caught in one's mouth
And swallowed all at once?
Don't tell me it's impossible
My lover has done it, you know
Every night, when the light is low
I see it shining from his eyes


Details | Free verse | |

Art

The blush of breath against creation;
wind born from the mouth of perception
sending life into the veins of what has been struck.
Beauty in the shade of compassion,
thriving in a glade of torment.
Reckoning splattered upon a blank
canvas whispering “I need purpose”. 
Deception bathed in guilt,
letting forgiveness blot the stains 
of regret from the very same easel.
Art is condemnation and exaltation
in chaotic synchronicity.
Harnessed disarray,
profound confusion.
Oxymoronic clarity.
Bloody peace,
screaming silence.
Conceptual destruction,
and subtle suggestion.
Art studied you,
before you pondered before it.
Felt the gush,
while you blinked..
Craved while you fed
 and suffered for your stare.
-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved.


Details | Rhyme | |

Geese fly by

 It’s Autumn weather, geese fly by,;
Autumn rust,red,gold,so gay

Drystone walls edging fields,

Apples gathered,holly berries

Flash so brightly

Look like flowers

Sun shines sideways,shadows long

Of trees appear.I dwell among

Woods of gentle beeches sing

Swaying with the sideward wind.

See their roots, all intertwined.

Feel their geometry in the mind.

Look up now into the sky,

See the V formation high.

Geese fly home at end of day.

My heart is moved by patterned dance

In this peace and great silence

My mind widens like the sky

And in this moment I would die,

So I would stay with this still vision

Of geese set out on autumn mission.

Snails in rain pools slither near

My feet upon the terrace here

And look,upon their whorled backs

All the sense of life is packed.

And yet so easily Life’s destroyed,

When blind foot steps into the void


Details | Free verse | |

Morning Synchronicity

She was a warm coffee cup

brimming over with the sweet

expectation of lips that could

give her the comfort she sought.

He was a sunrise

cradling the morning in

arms of mercy;

He held her sight still, 

giving the horizon colors

he knew would feel, just right.

Together they waited for 

the jostle of day;

the pitter pat of tiny feet,

the quiet groan of a still tired father,

a mother’s call to the kitchen.

Together they will blossom under

the colors chosen, for mornings of 

peace. Together they will wilt the 

morning, and break the day,

until night’s slumber. 

Together. 

-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved.


Details | Blank verse | |

Breathless

Sometimes when words escape
They leak back into the echosphere
Like a lost soul with a task unfinished.

Their absence haunts us, those words we thought
And let slip through our fingers before articulation.
They want to be spoken: need to be spoken into existence,
But never were given the chance to mature
Beyond the simple state of being an idea.

When they eventually return from their metaphysical journeys
It'll be too late to make a difference or prove their point.
The timing will be wrong, the context unnatural.
It makes me wonder if the world might have been better off
If those pesky words would have stayed lost,
And not come back to remind me 
That it's rude to stand with one's jaw dropped
When a beautiful women is speaking to you.


Details | Free verse | |

Kiss of Sunshine

a roses moisture licked by the lips of the sun
blooming feverishly in the love of the light
metabolizing it's generosity warming it's core
tantalized, the flower knows no bounds

basking in the spheres' line of sight
utilizing it's tender touch of security
sharing the space occupied by the soft rays
hypnotized, the rose reaches upward

reaching
reaching
leaning timidly towards the kiss of the sun


Details | I do not know? | |

A Hollow Shell

a hollow shell
of tangled synapses
sparked into gradual madness
which drowns out the truths of the day
as the mind reeks of the rotten sad moments
that swirl in the rancid soup of forgotten dreams
dreams that once traced a gentle path of innocence
dreams that reached for pure love’s tender touch
dreams now paralysed but once vivaciously alive
what became of those fresh dreams and hopes
as they lie mustily on dusty bookshelves
torn into shreds by time’s fine scimitar
devoid of the touch of raw passion
when all that remains of love is
a hollow shell


Details | Free verse | |

Love In The Grains

Wonderful imperfections at every glance
Edges worn, as solid as ever
Age gives proof of the foundation
No splash of paint could increase the value
Pretending it is new only cheapens
Not sensible to others
The value truly only to the owners
It is a priceless work of art
No hired hand could finish the work
The natural look of it brings awe


Details | Free verse | |

A Vending Machine in Nashville, 2013

Head or tails is that your good side or the bad 
shiny, worn, new, old, smart, stupid societal
cash register?

We all get piled up.

Your denomination tells your class: two cents or fifty
indentations of personality ealge, flag, ego or in 
God do you trust? 

Fold a twenty the right way 

Now do you believe in hell? 

No. I know your type: the fake quarter the boy 
scored, poor and bored at the railroad tracks  
bashed, smashed, beaten, used. 

We all get piled up. 

God only collects the shiny coins. 



Details | Free verse | |

She doesn't see

You are the urgency in my breath,
the ragged discourse that falls
from my trembling tongue.
Everything I need to say,
is wrapped around you.
The words hang from your skin;
ornaments of understanding that
I have yearned to pluck.
Yet,
it seems redundant to pull a flower
from your garden, and present it to you
like you didn’t know it is beautiful already.
I just hope you know that I appreciate you.
I see you as you are,
in all your tattered elegance;
Your supple tears, your steady glide.
You’re a ghost in a hall of mirrors,
with roses at your feet;
Wandering like a child.
Quietly hoping to find someone else
in the reflection.
"I am here…"
-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved.


Details | Free verse | |

Communion

Do not rebuke ignorance before its time.
During her first hours,
the seed is unaware 
of the infinite power which calls her 
toward the sky.
She knows only the soil,
He is her only friend,
Her constant companion.

But soon she feels her mind expanding,
As her roots dive deep into the ground-
her first branches
reach out,
and break through the soil,
who has created a path for his sister.

The light beckons to her,
and she blossoms in its warm embrace.
The forest is overwhelmed by her beauty,
And she rules over them with a kind heart.

Though millennia have passed as seconds,
She has never forgotten her childhood friend,
Who, like a gentleman,
Opened the door to this world
That she has grown so fond of.
He knew of her beauty before she did.
He believed so much in what she could become,
That she could not help but believe in it herself.

And so each day the beauty of her soul is seen 
In the strength of her branches, 
in the innocence of her songs,
and in the lovingkindness of her heart.

All because he believed.





Feel fee to leave any constructive criticism, thanks.


Details | Free verse | |

rising from out of this cold frozen wasteland

rising from out of this cold frozen wasteland— 
a blanket white unfolds with pure hope and love
melting snowflakes on such a clear blue ocean
lying on the edge of a world that’s very scared 

while inside this mindset unfolds a radiant light 
sun shining buttercup of such special rare beauty 
in every little thing and precious detail which ever
so sweetly draws me to you my love, my darling

even the sound of your soft voice echoes on
inside with such mellifluous golden whispers 
sweetly enhancing the very music you sing 
to me which plays magic tricks so enchanting 

and hypnotizing my very soul while stealing 
my heart away and bringing me under your
spell and the softness of your wonder and love
both so overwhelming and intoxicating so fully

with this our mutual joy and love so deep and
so rare makes our time together seem so endless 
my love for you are so special and so right that I 
must pinch myself at times to see if all this is real

and so, rising from out of this cold frozen wasteland—
our mutual spirits, souls, and emotions are now ONE
my very special enchantress since fate and love has 
put us ONE on the edge of a world that’s very scared

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (December 20, 2014) 
(Free Verse poetic format)


Details | Romanticism | |

Sing to me My Love

The sun has risen and we still in the chamber den,
listening to the bluebirds sing love songs
and the rushing of the stream outside our window.
Life has awaken and we still hibernating and still in love;
giving each other kisses and cuddling close together,
to where our hearts kept warm forever.
Sing to me my love and I shall close my eyes,
and hear passionate lyrics roll off the base of your tongue
and speak your lovely, red lips the words of passion and love.

Sing to me my love
a song to make the bluebirds shed a tear,
to make the prancing deer come up to our front step,
to make the wolves howl at the silvery-laced moon,
to make the mountains grow higher to touch heaven's gates,
to make the rushing water in the streams lead to the seas.
Sing to me my love, oh sing to me.

Love rushes and the birds fly together,
high up above in heaven's blue skies,
and the rushing waters provide charity to the thirsty deer.
Sing to make the flowers grow in our garden,
and sing to make my heart skip a beat,
and I shall hold you in my arms,
sitting by a rich flame, which warms us up,
and I shall sing in return.

Love, my dear, love is all we need together,
we are beauty in nature,
as we sing our songs together,
harmony is what turns the world round and round.
Sing to me my love
and we shall love more than any lover loved another.
Love me, my dear, love me,
and listen to the angels in heaven's grace and glory
sing a chorus of sweet music to our ears,
and we shall sleep together and forever,
and the sun shall rise again,
the birds shall sing,
and we shall sing along with them
in love forever, my dear.

.12.18.2013


Details | Free verse | |

An Agent of Life

My names symbolize and mean victorious.
I am a soldier of a higher power.
I am one that is here on a direct mission:
To defend the defenseless.
I am a sword.
The sword strikes those who attack the weak.
So that the attackers feel the wrath given to me,
And understand that I treat them as they treat others.
So that the weak know,
They are never alone in this fight.
I am a shield.
The shield defends and respects.
It respects that all are human,
I am wisdom.
I step back and watch the skirmishes of life,
I review them rationally,
So that when I join a battle,
I know, I am on the right side.
There is a higher power.
It inspires me to act.
But It is kinder than I.
It would forgive where I would strike back.
But I will fight anyways,
For it is my duty to fight other battles.
Life is a fight,
But I…
I am a sword.
I am a shield.
I am wisdom.
I am…
Victory!


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Trapped in the maze of love

The young girls tour the countryside
with bosoms large and egos full of pride,
with noses stuck up in the thin air;
I see them all strutting down a dirt road
leading to a dead end;
as I stand lonely, trapped in the maze of love.
Lost I cannot find my way;
till I sit and listen to the songs of loving angels
they shine me a path of flowers and beauty,
as I follow, I'll soon be trapped no longer-
in that forbidden maze of love.

.2.14.2014.


Details | Free verse | |

High-Reaching Hope Leading Destructive Despair

Being Near
It is impossible to say what Feeling is Stronger
Attraction
Nervousness
Paranoia
Or just wanting to wrap thou in an embrace for all the comfort that wants to be shown unto thee

This meager attraction that has sprouted dwindles by what you see in another
This case seems to be always present throughout these experiences
A sheer passing of Anxiety courses through when near this conduit of feeling
Of course, even at the Genesis of these feelings it was known what they were
Now, it just grows and threatens to burst at the seams

Ever expanding with every passing memory,
Every possible moment that could take place between the two
Every Glance in this dangerous direction

The Memories
How they haunt and stretch the Hopeful side
Leading to a fantasy that cannot take root in reality
Even if the seed has been planted
The Watering will never occur by both
In the same degree,

The Paranoia is perhaps a more pressing matter
Leaving this dreamer to wonder if their feelings are right in their place
Or just a calamity that is sure to follow these rushing tides of sensations
When your eyes are averted in a more hopeful and dreamy direction
When a more realistic approach is so near

Alas, I find myself in a pattern
Something that has become most vexing
This newfound desire seems much more realistic than the last few
Although, saying that fuels a Hope that should not have, perhaps, ever been allowed to be conceived
However,
With the progression of things these past few moons
That possibility of Hope growing is Becoming More
And More
Inevitable
With it, comes an even greater chance of Despair
That has ever been known 
By this poor stricken soul...



Constructive Criticism is welcomed for this, as well as suggestions that might want to be made.
Please and thank you!(:


Details | Haiku | |

AN IMPROVISED HAIKU

AN IMPROVISED HAIKU

(To Maimounatou Abdou) 

Garouas Sun has risen now
Let it light and delight
Let me Princess of Beauties bow
For Garouas soft sun is at sight 

 Dla, November 14, 2014

Jaafar Sadig El Waad


Details | Rhyme | |

Jewel

Jewel

There's a jewel in everyone.
It will be a beautiful, priceless diamond when it's done.
Like a flower re-opening its petals in the spring to greet the morning sun.

It's called a diamond in the rough. 
Strong. Invincible. Tough.
Like beauty from ashes.
Tears of truth dripping off eyelashes.

You don't see its worth at first.
You see its best after you've seen it at its worst.
There's always beauty in the last expected place.
But there's a radiance about to show its face. 


Details | I do not know? | |

SSRI's and I

SSRI's and I ...


... the sounds of thoughts clattering, my neurones sparking,
like Dylan said, my morning recedes jingling and a-jangling,

worn down by this leaden knot, tearing my insides out,
the cacophony drowned in a whisper, lost in a silent shout,

dreams and screams scratching the back of my dry throat,
caged in, liberation hovering like a mirage beyond the moat.


I claw my way, slowly, through a thicket of solitude,
feeling my emotions peeling, stung by unseen nettles,

crawling to an open field, to rest, beneath a sky ablaze with stars,
as my mind glides, brushing the soft grass as it peacefully settles ...







Details | I do not know? | |

Rain in the City

as the rain falls on the city

all words

seem drenched

running like worthless ink off meaningless paper

yet

the rain falls incessantly on

in sheets of glassy vehemence

tearing my thoughts apart

splintering the fragile truce of this night

words, just worthless words

floating by

wrestling me to the ground

worthless words

devoid of all feeling, and of everything that should be true

disjointed and hollow

as my thoughts in melancholic comfort wallow

wrapping me in a shroud of accepted gloom

a vain cloak of indulgence, 
while revelling in the impending doom

and still the rain keeps pouring

clipping the wings of my dreams

that are no longer intent on soaring

but why do i subject you

to all this idle and quite bitter chatter

for when all is said and done and scribbled

will any of this matter?

so i take leave of you, yet again

as i surrender 

to the lunacy of the sane

and to the whipping

of the cold, biting harrowing rain...


Details | I do not know? | |

Ludwig and Vincent

Ludwig & Vincent...


‘They said that you were mad, Vincent’, whispered Ludwig to a silent Vincent.


‘I still am, quite insane’, replied Vincent, ‘but you, dear Ludwig, you were deaf, and mad, I hear’.


‘I listened with my soul, Vincent, I heard it all without hearing a sound. Yes, mad and deaf indeed I too, still am’, Ludwig said, smiling at Vincent.


‘just look at them now’, Vincent replied, smiling with Ludwig, ‘look at them now, as they hawk sunflowers, blissfully oblivious of exquisite starry nights’.


‘yes’, smiled Ludwig, ‘look at them now, they crave joy, yet they cannot hear an ode, dear Vincent, they cannot hear it! They do not care enough to hear’.


‘Yes, dear Ludwig’, Vincent sighed, ‘they do not care enough to hear’.


Ludwig and Vincent smiled, each tugging an ear.


Details | Free verse | |

Laurel

I am victory.
I wonder: present, not past or future.
I hear, sunset… and sunrise!
I see with your eyes, with eyes unclouded.
I want: helping, love.
I am smart.  I am strong.

I pretend … it’s alright though.
I feel: happiness, brokenness.
I touch the hearts, the spirits.
I worry, does it help, what I do?
I cry, loneliness.
I am done with losing, on with choosing.

I understand: alone, as in, unique.
I believe: it’s alright!
I hope: family united – kindred-ness.
I dream, conquering suffering.
I try, NO… I do!
I am the coolest girl in the whole wide world!
I am – me!


Details | Free verse | |

Not Missing Love's Beat

Not missing love’s beat . . . .
Sails to you this golden bright morning rising so high 
Sails waving with light, joy, and such promise and hope 
One smile gasping breathless always for you my love

As you walk with me deeply into Eden’s very paradise
Dancing my heart love on that yellow brick road of dreams
Dying to be with you my love forever and ever and ever 
Dreams inside of eternal youth with my heart pounding so	

Awaiting the very day to come when I stand before you 
Down on bended knee holding your hands warmly smiling 
Kissing each and every single fingertip so exquisitely 
I shall ask you to be forever and always with me my love 

You will be my Queen with dazzling jewels of an ocean wide 
The other heartbeat echoing as two becomes one complete
Our thirst for love and passion is almost unquenchable
And my very psyche is afire with excitement when we caress

Sleeping at night my love brings me into your dream world
Where it’s me and you and you and me together floating
Through the very ether of time breathing rarefied air so
Deliciously as we’re hopelessly mesmerized in true love 

When I awake from our nocturnal dream trance so joyously
We hold one another so lovingly and caress so warmly at once
We kiss passionately and longingly in a most sublime spirit while
Not missing love’s beat . . . . 

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (December 24, 2014) 
(Free Verse)


Details | Free verse | |

v

My hands they are clean, when I am around you
sweet you are like caramel on a lit candle,
your skin smooth and soft, like cotton and silk fabric,
lay with me my dear,
and we shall talk of moon and star alike,
and in the morning; we shall talk of sun and cloud alike.
In nature, my dear, you are beautiful, as a nightingale
singing loving songs outside my window at night,
as Romeo stumbling along Juliet's balcony,
and sharing a kiss to kiss of loving romance
under a silvery moon and bright, twinkling stars.

Yes you are the one my love,
and when I am around you,
no lies shall come between you and I,
for my hands they are clean when I am around you
my sweet and loving angel.

.2.25.2014.


Details | Free verse | |

Super Element

O, Uranium
O, mighty Uranium.

If love had a chain reaction like yours,
our hearts would all end up with flaming mushrooms
of compassion and desire; our adrenaline of passion would
rush such that they would light up cities; two people exposed
to each other as they hold each other's arms, would make a romantic fission
that would light the night light summer day!


Details | Free verse | |

vanishing song

she lay in the vanishing sunlight
vulnerable and beautiful
she was as lovely as dreams
she gave herself to me with her heart full of desire's dark romance
with her heart full of the magic of love's tenderness
it was then i knew at long last what it was to be loved
she played a fragment of her song
its beauty like a setting sun on a deep blue sea
and then i knew what it was like to breath once more
like i never knew what it meant to be alive
until her song played
until all my sorrows had vanished in her arms
so she played her song for me all night
it was sweet as a tropical night wind
full of promise and beauty
like this daydream of her soft hand in mine
warms my heart
till her song vanishes


Details | Free verse | |

iv

To find the outline of your body
in the fog of mystery,
is the greater achievement of my day-
to find the smoothness of your lips with mine
will be a tale told by generations-
to place my hands on the curvature of your glorious hips
shall be magical-
to dedicate a poem to your beauty
will be a grand thing- to make my heart sing-
hope is all I need to clear this fog
and find your stunning beauty in the rose garden of life
on the other side of the river called "reality"

To my wonderful gal, be mine- once the fog clears,
and I shall find your outline imprinted on my warm bed sheets-
come now, clear this fog away,
I am missing your sweet beauty with every moment passing.

.2.25.2014.


Details | I do not know? | |

WARNING: Soppy Love Scribble

Walk with me,
in this lonely world,

where hearts are casually broken,
and kind words rarely spoken.

Take my hand,
on this highway of brittle glass,

where love is traded like blue-chip shares,
and bank-balances are coveted as priceless wares.

Smile with me,
as we walk hand in hand,

as the ocean tickles our toes on the cool beach sand.

Smile with me,
and I shall smile too,

we may not have much,

but you will have all of me,

and I will have all of you.


Details | Quatrain | |

free cee A HAMMER, HOPE AND HEAVEN'S HEART

                A HAMMER, HOPE AND HEAVEN’S HEART

I used a hammer of hope to build some beauty
A carpenter with desire as his duty
I used wood rendered by golden good
Constructing a vivacious vision in a wondrous neighborhood

Every screw and each nail would nicely do
With eaves and shutters shaded bright blue
I drilled and thrilled to every beautiful beam
Because I was busy building a dream

Every single shingle shifted my heart
From being useless I became a pertinent  part
A relevant role in a real romance
And every shingle meant a brand new start

I built beauty with dutiful delight
Then I painted that loveliness with light
Darkness was dispelled by every smile
When I built beauty no man could defile

And so through storms that beauty steadfastly stood
And the soul of this carpenter at last found good
In a neighborhood situated near heaven’s front door
When I built beauty floor by beautiful floor

This house was a metaphor for love unending 
And a life that love was thereupon mending
Beside my house was a tree statuesque and shady
For a romantic relationship I built with a lovely lady
                              © 2012…copyright..~free cee!~




Details | Free verse | |

Enchanted Vision of Love So Pure

Enchanting deep forest sparkling magical dew 
Vision of beauty takes to clouds in silver lining 
Star lighting vision dancing with the shadows
Rainbow skies set to light mist of cool rain 
And the warmest thoughts of you my Dear Love! 

You are so very beautiful and precious My Darling 
Behind the mirror your soul sings soothingly so
Stirring hotly emotional feelings and passions afire 
How the passion burns the flower of flowers so rare 
Regal crowning desires petals touching so softly My Dear! 

Silken lips purse blushing one rose holding bright
Sunshine beams inside warm fingers of light touch 
Stroking hair gently halo radiating chords deeply dance 
Looking into jewels of a treasure gem shines so exquisitely
Gifted I am to have met your beautiful soul and You Too! 

Over and over my heart skips beats when we caress and kiss 
Beams jumping over the moon silver whispers wonderful so
Silently making love to you in every single thought of mine 
Hot sexy kissing and so sensual in every inch nibbling softly
Within the deepest love inside loving you forever My Love!

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem,                  
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (December 25, 2014)                           
(Free Verse)


Details | Free verse | |

A Sign of the Second Coming -- Yeats

Know the Beauty of tomorrow began in the past--
And it must last through today,
Suffering the indignities at hand.
And then you can see out of Spiritus Mundi
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
looking out with gaze blank and pitiless--

The Nightmare that slouches towards Bethlehem to be born...
And Terra says he is coming


A Sign of the Second Coming-- Yeats
6/9/'14


Yeats's poem the "Second Coming" was about WWI and how it was the war to end all wars, only now we know better. Really WWI signaled an end of fighting of one era to the beginning of another, and this horrified Yeats as the latter was so very bloody. Frightened him in a way that he wondered if man had not lost sense of himself, and I try to extend Yeat's vision of a spiritual nightmare into an environmental expression-- especially in the last line.


Details | Free verse | |

MY FIRST POEM

 She is my first poem

I read her to enjoy the life

Her beauty is the metaphor  of the nature

I mingled in it to reach the peak of lust

Her talks are rhythm

I  memorised them to recreate my desires

Herface is beauty pool

I dwelled in it to refresh my thoughts

My collection starts from her

and will end only with her..

 

SAKTHIRAVICHANDRAN