Poem | |
Written in The Stars
Two hearts bleached by the sun
A poem's - fallen wish
Of A Life Time
Majestic beams fall from heavens medow
Two hearts sewn by the constellation
Under the moons glow
You and I
Staring up into the Starry Sky
Tonight we sit under the dazzling diamond dust
Our eyes feel and meet tonight
Stars twinkle a poem of each paired heart
Listen................... The God's Whisper!
What Is Love?
A wish so gentle by the stars
Greeting young couples heart
Poor but, in love
Mockeries of old shadow
Light embracing this Auspicious moment
Intrigued by a sad lovers tale
Two souls forever rich-
Sharing eternity through celestial bliss
Gravitating in a world owned by the stars
Unfortunate turn of events,
Romeo & Juliet
Collapsing stars rising with a hymn
From the moment they fell
Only to reveal how beautiful--
-- the stars in the dark
Ever so wealthy, around Orion's Belt
Taking notes of every rhyme, every heartbeat
Stars fall every eve entering the atmosphere
Seeping through the soul making love a part of light
Illusion of permanence
Fireflies Flaring up
A love that lives last longer than moments
Zodiac unfolds the lines
The stars tell you, who you are
Gaze upon the infinity
Follow the Northern star
Beneath your peaceful splendor
They will bow
The evening star,
"My Star Of Love"
Like glitter dust upon a timeless shore
Never will the memory of love be gone
Look up at the stars,
For some where out there
I read about YOU in a poem.
Poem | |
This gown I feel nothing
Silk less feelings
The odor of intimate apparel lessens
Vanity fare from any sun
Warrior of beauty
Where have you gone?
A fortress of gloom
Not even death wants in
Black nail tips
Brownish plum lips
I close my eyes
I see them all
Climbing over my soul
The darken deepens
The stars dim my view
Land becomes an enemy
The Dark Knight-tress
Scolding my next victim
Poem | |
On summer hills I watched you
I know you watched me too
Every night you waited for me
Every night I came to you
From shallow oceans I have risen
On silver chariots traveled high
Crossed everlasting spaces
which filled your empty sky
Soothing manna showered your lips
from the radiance of my light
Crazy love I poured in your heart
on each lone and serene night
Humble shepherd boy Endymion
You haven't chosen death,nor life
In eternal sleep you've slumbered
and made of me your wife
You must have been a poet
with a will to live our dream
with a want to preserve passion
for the last abiding crescent
of the evanescent moon Selene.
Inspired by the Greek myth of Selene,goddess of the moon and Endymion
and by beautiful poetry.
Poem | |
The mischievous Sandman runs a con game each night
After all the youngsters are safely tucked away
He dances into my room like an elfin sprite
He seizes my hand, tries to lure me outside to play
Then he’s bored on my shoulder at the computer
Threatens to throw pixie dust into sleepy eyes
Quells my muse like a discourteous intruder
I’ve attempted to handle him with a compromise
Just let my muse roam free for a couple of hours
For at this time of night, fantasies flow smoothly
But he feels the need to boast of superpowers
And when I ask for time, he glares gloomily
It’s three in the morning and I should be asleep
This nightly visitor has grown to be a pest
Distaste continues to grow for this pesky creep
And the sandman scowls when I say, “Give it a rest!”
*Entry for Deb’s Fantasy Land Contest
April 29, 2011
Poem | |
~JSLambert does not (currently:) use, or encourage hallucinogenic drug use.
Telepathic psilocybin prescription erasing elastic depression. Competition
wanes, just when nocturnal emission drains. Lifted poetic wing clipping. This
party only makes sense to those encrypted with unconsciousness. Scalpel in
hand, methodical break and entering, break dancing meninges remove
portions of brain doin' the bitchin'. Ah, this immaculate incision!
Lucid dreams vacating turnstile vibrations, deteriorating horrific screams
douching eardrums. Ultraviolet eyes fortified by THREES---Mind-Body-Soul,
rolled up into one huge trinity.
I'm moving asses fantastic. Call me the "Proctologist of Poetry".
Electrify words, regurgitate, choke and vomit the crock of crap-ola. Venture
down butter slides until the sky goes red.
Still too uptight to listen? (don't pretend in comments that you read this
entire poem if ya' didn't) glisten, be kind, rewind, let liquid swords chop away
fat weighing upon your forces. Once doors of perception swing eyes wide
open. Devour the false to magnify hate. I love you the same. I love you, never
in vain. Hearing your verse lifts a heavy curse carried in shame.
As a child, I had no fear of apocalypse, or world hunger. No, phobia meant
running out of words to give, to receive, from lips. It haunts me to this day.
Tho' the bliss of poetic language's kiss, soothes the cries. Altruistic sighs! Now
we dance! Dancing Harmony times three equals harmonize! Tour your Third
Eye, yir' Karma-eyes!
To the heads that said, "NO CAN DO!"- We've weaved advice for you. File
illicit deeds away, for in dreams we are connected, Siamese twins, at the
wrist, spellbound paradise! Let go of doubt, negativity= below zero. Work it
out! Crash whiplash angles 'till friggin' rectangles dangle through
kaleidoscopes of style. Poet trees smear the cosmos. Let go! THREE will never
be alone. Bestow the glow, thorazine vapors escape secret tombs where
peroxide cleans wounds. Fusing two Toots in common with Nefertiti. THREES.
Elicit illicit lucid dreams gushing ejaculatory melodic screams. Orgasmic
spasms...vas deferens between actual sacks and Staff of Ra polluted sticky
streams. Peddle the bicycle high, annihilate attrition, like motivated Mormons,
door to door men, on a worldwide mission. I love you, I miss you...witness the
vision...alive in the schism!
*credit A.Horovitz, A.Yauch, M.Diamond, Billy Corgan
Poem | |
In advance, I wish to heal the mind, body, and soul
Thanking all God's creatures
Coating all my expressions from-
-Yesterday, today, and tomorrow
Conceal every worry,
Focus on the goodness that fills my spirit with thankfulness
And, well, honored comments.
This is a rich tribute to:
All Poetry Soup Poets, with grateful and appreciating hearts
Enjoy the time, you give each and every Poets
Poem | |
This open letter I share to my dear Soupers,
Especially written for the most special muses I have found.
I dedicate this piece from the depth of my soul.
To most brilliant and exquisite poets here in site.
To Poet Destroyer a.k.a. Linda,
Your poem "Daddy" changed a view in my life.
I'm a tamed little tigress when I first came in site.
So afraid to post a collective words from my mind.
When I read your poem, it suddenly changed my life!
It's a free verse form, taught me that writing isn't that hard.
I can freely spread my wings then reach the sky.
It taught me how to use the ink inside my heart.
I saw the lighter side of you.
A loving heart, a real you.
Some of your slams show off your angst.
In "Daddy's poem", you won The Oscar's.
Linda, in half of a year I spend with you,
I'd like to tell how much I awe you,
You are the star that lit my night.
You are the muse that keeps me write.
To my dearest highness poet, Nette...
I can't still find the right adjective that suits you best.
Your "Kiss from Heaven" moved me away.
It opened my eyes to what a poetry really means.
Your words are extraordinary,unique and passionate.
It invites me to go down deeper, explore the world beneath.
You showed me a different ways to use an ink.
Then lead me to a magical and wondrous place within.
Thank you for being an inspiration,
The wind beneath my wings.
The best poet I look up with.
The one that I respect and treasured as friend.
You two are like fuel to my soul.
You help me keep going inspite of sorrow.
You show me the world behind these walls,
You refill my pen to create a poem.
Poem | |
My melancholy turns to gold dust
in your soft and tender hands
upon your fingers I scatter my life
my love remains clasped in your hands
now I am a vial of cologne, emptied...
I yearn to see your lissome creeper
how it clings to cracks on the walk
well, just as it entwines the cement altar
Mi amor, that is how I yearn to embrace your heart
I used to stumble, now I am sustained in you...
This night I yearn and sigh for you
to see you sleep, hands on your chest
sinking into our bed like rosy fruit
from smooth pastures into the depths of our mattress
as the air enters your chest and raises it chastely...
Amante, steal away to me in the night
we will see how peacefully the moon rays
create quiet waves without unsettling the hush
just as it passes into the gulf is the way
I yearn to sink to the very bottom of your soul...
Fly to me from your snow white orchards
you love is ever so immaculate
my naked soul will tremble in your hands...
Poem | |
It vibes in harmonics broadband, a musical language universal,
Echoing across the heights divides, falling as a thunderstorms,
Raw force of spiritual power, descending from the heavens above,
The angels do yield, surrendering the gift of music unto the world
Pierced by their angelic thorny prongs, tender notes of rhythm,
Melt downwards from the silver lining of graces everlasting meadows
Separations clouds expose the here ever afters, sparks of the divinities
Fame burning as a torch lighting up the skies white powder showering
The earth with sweet melodic undertones, a thundering vibrating beat felt
Throughout the pulsating heart of nature itself.
Music lives within all things, it binds a connecting link, a
Symphony a blending element, a melting promise between heaven and
Earth, a harmonious balance, light equaling dark.
In the vaults of the skies, the heavenly chorus joins with
The voices of humanity singing a song of complete
What a true wonder is this gift given unto mankind,
To write and sing, to share such expressionism with
One another, music is honestly a universal language
Understood by every nation, or age group beneath
The heavens themselves.
A heritages legacy passed down from grandfathers,
To fathers, and than to sons, and daughters,
Is this the love and wonder of these arts there in
So shared by all members of the human race for
Generations of inspiration to come.
I listen to the songs sang by the morning doves,
To the charming voices of our youthful young,
Than those jolly fellows from days gone by,
You know the old barber shop quorate.
So many variations and depths of degrees,
Harmony, rock-n-roll, to golden oldies country,
Music is a wonderment all to it's own glory.
So we thank you those powers on high,
For this miracle of a gift called music.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Poem | |
My Muse, I So Abuse
My muse crying loudly, please write this way
I replied laughing, that will be the day
She storms off in a most indignant huff
I shouting at her, damn isn't that tough?
No fear, she always runs as she returns
she my heart so loves, as my mind she burns
I, that often sit on cold bed of stones
She, poetic judge that often breaks bones!
Dead of night she cuddles up to me near
utters words, sweet nothings and a cold fear
I inquire, but my heart you love so dear
She shouts, that was a folly from last year!
My muse and I play wicked cat and mouse
She may be the roof but I am the House!
Robert J. Lindley, 08-26- 2014
note: My muse is a vindictive little tramp
she makes me kneel humbly before she lights the lamp!