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Best Poems Written by Leanne Lovejoy-Burton

Below are the all-time best Leanne Lovejoy-Burton poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Leanne Lovejoy-Burton Poem

“Come, take my hand”, you say, “I will show you a story”.
So, I place my hand in yours, we walk barefoot cool, in scorching sand.
Strange I think, no footprints, no burns, no shadows, as I hold your hand.
The desert winds whisper your words to me, your eyes clear and blue as the cloudless sky.

So, I place my hand in yours, we walk barefoot cool, in scorching sand.
The silence in your eyes speak secrets, a chapter hidden away, not for all to know.
The desert winds whisper your words to me, your eyes blue and clear as the cloudless sky.
Not one word from your lips, but I listen to you, as we wander through the Silent Years.

The silence in your eyes speak secrets, a chapter hidden away, not for all to know.
As a boy you learnt your family trade, then you dwelt in Roman Judean caves learning in the Library of the Essenes rebellious, brave.
Not one word from your lips, but I listen to you, as we wander through the Silent Years.
Twelve your favored number, the missing final scroll you hand to me, “Take note of the story I deliver, you will soon see”.

As a boy you learnt your family trade, then you dwelt in Roman Judean caves learning in the Library of the Essenes rebellious, brave.
A strong and loyal ally you made in your friend, the rich Merchant from Arimathea.
Twelve your favored number, the missing final scroll you hand to me, “Take note of the story I deliver, you will soon see”.
You take my hand, we walk out of the desert down to the Sea, we are on a Ship, you softly sing to my mind, Blake’s “Jerusalem” as we journey far out to another land beyond our ocean, you laugh, “It’s an adventure, a great mystery”, you smile like an old friend, at me.

A strong and loyal ally you made in your friend, the rich Merchant from Arimathea.
He stands next to you and I on the deck, soon we alight onto dry land, the Scroll becomes parchment, ancient Pali you hold in your hands – there in it’s script, your name recorded in the Vedas’ Bhavishya Purana.
You take my hand, we are far from the sea, now we are in Ladakh, in the majestic Mountains of Kashmir much higher and closer to the One sometimes felt not yet met.
You are far from the One I know, smiling and chanting with holy monks, your loyal brothers in Tibet.

(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 April)

"The Sacrificial Man should be closely tied to the sacrificial pillar." (Sathapathabrahmana 3.7.3.1)/Vedas

"The Sacrificial Man should return to life after the sacrifice." (Brhadaranykopanisad 3.9.28.4,5)/Vedas

1. Om
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8sYK7lm3UKg

Details | Leanne Lovejoy-Burton Poem

Black Swan Theory

(Best read with this poem's theme music playing)




"BLACK SWAN THEORY"


Free Agent
Black Swan Theory
White Pearl rolling in
Some kind of Black Pearl World

Black Swan Theory
Decoded, Fragile Love Songs Broken in
Some Kind of Black Pearl World
Red Shoes Dance Home with the Witch-Way Girl

Decoded, Fragile Love Songs Broken in
Free Agents' Escape Dossier, you’re handed free tokens
Red Shoes Dance Home with the Witch-Way Girl
Vapid Vanilla Kisses, Black Marzipan my Villain's Secret Kisses Unfurl

Free Agents' Escape Dossier, you’re handed free tokens
Love’s Bullets melting Hot Ice Heart 
Vapid Vanilla Kisses, Black Marzipan my Villain's Secret Kisses Unfurl
Diamond Hieroglyphics My Windows on Your World


(Lovejoy-Burton/April 2018)


"rara avis in terris nigroque simillima cygno"



"Subway"/Peter Murphy
https://youtu.be/iiUOUNubUW4
https://genius.com/Peter-murphy-subway-epilogue-lyrics

Details | Leanne Lovejoy-Burton Poem

My Daughter My Nation


"My Daughter My Nation"



The climate of Georgia
is diverse, 
considering the nation’s
small size.

She walks with her head 
held high, 
ultra dignified
My daughter,
whom I love “Most".

I am her Black Sea,
her West Coast.
Familiar, yet -
uncharted territory
a foreign country drowned,
a mysterious
unconquered frontier.

Always close, 
my tides touch her shore,
then recede.
She dips her toes, 
considers which boat
to launch off in,
which adventure to seize.

Waves of a Mother -
calm then stormy seas,
low tides, high tides, 
cool deep waters,
then LOVE's blistering
burning breeze.

In water’s introspection
A natural evolution 
from station to station,
perfect reflection, an observation -
“TAKE LIFE!”, Ocean calls
to her Nation, 
without hesitation.

Courage of Child-no-longer.
Independent, clever 
Woman now, she’s “BECOMING” -
Stronger and stronger.
Familiar, yet -

Uncharted territory
a foreign country 
a mysterious, 
unconquered frontier,
that's My Daughter, 
My Nation.
Georgia.

No maps required, 
straight to the HEART -
Simple, pure magic vibration,
this my celebration,
My Daughter 
Queen of your own
Evolving, Stronghold Nation,
GEORGIA.



(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 Jan)

1.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v6wc41N-GYY

2.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QSJfOLLE0Fk

Details | Leanne Lovejoy-Burton Poem

Die Another Day

“Die Another Day”


“Your mission, should you so deem it,
Is to infiltrate ALL Fluff Clusters in K.A.O.S. Headquarters
And bloody well steam it!”


“The Place is a hazardous mess of a trap
Over run with Double Agents, ulterior motives
Amorous Nuns-on-the-Run drooling ardent dreams 
of swimming naked
in buckets of Blood Red Roses
69’ers come 96’ers with rapturous missives
Requiring decoding – 
And their artillery compares to none other in this world -
Containing the most dangerous pensive locked-up emotions!
Written superfluously with more than likely Nootropics, 
Toadstools (sic) Toad stools and 
viperous inebriated poisonous frog posing lotions.

The place itself dear girl, is infested with Love Potions and
Lust boats rocking furiously on Saga-full 
swelling erotic and  Sensual oceans. 
The place needs fumigating, too many damn birds!
They breed lice! Not to mention the droppings 
Full of ‘sweet nectar’ brings in all the 
Rats and the mice!
You are required to go in there dear Agent Petrova
And blow it apart with your Vixenish explosives and coat it
In mind numbing black and white Zebra striped run away train words 
in subterranean doses.”

M barked in clipped soft tone staccato and contradictory whisper
Eyes like a Hawk watching the shadows while tickling her cactussing 
hormonal whiskers -
A viperish Tongue that could lash and deliver one such hell burning blisters
To recalcitrant Frenchmen Stinking Frogs and 
Germans, dismissive.

“This should be fun!” S.A.P. processed the new Dossier nonchalantly,
Clicking her sharp stillettos down endless corridor mazes with glee.
Dress-ups, disguises, nom de plumes - this thought She, was 
definitely SHE.

Elegant, eloquent, Walk-the-Talk, machine gun ‘em down 
Special Agent Petrova 
Very Special S.A.P.
Is in town!
Not loose, never for free
Spray the room with her intoxicating perfume and 
her Che Guevara 
Che SHE

Pursuing (sic) perusing
the mission with loaded quill in her hand 
She'd stroke and smoke out the big guns
Morphing her guises, transfiguring 
Speaking in tongues
Pinning their tales all over her 
“favourite” walls
All agents on the run, what a Fluff Cluster Spree...
Captivating Foreign and Homeland
Corral only the best
Capture them all 
Arrest and divest

Subterfuge forays were her forte
This she thought was apt
Analysing the Attache
She had it down pat.

To hell with all Pernod Swilling French Men 
Run amok and astray…
To hell with the Toads in their Dark Green sordid sortie

She was on with the mission 
She’d 
DIE ANOTHER D. DAY

(Lovejoy-Burton/2018)

1. :)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UWr_1uLjqic

2.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3S65u5qK6dc

3.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NDhhdG-nslg

4. 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=isAUOa50wdA

"There are some agents who don't end their sentences with a proposition"/Jan Morrow.

Details | Leanne Lovejoy-Burton Poem

Thy Beautiful Heart: the Blue Faery's Baby


"Thy Beautiful Heart : The Blue Faery’s Baby"


'Tis brave the heart 
of a lionhearted cub 
When Butterflies 
aren’t pretty
Aren’t all what they seem

Monsters that do steal teeth 
from the Blue Faery's Baby

A glass jar full of 
plundered 
precious Pearls 
of White Ivory, 
not sweet honey bees

The cub 
must remember 
the power asleep
in thy magic, the
strength of pure
LOVE

Stand firm clasping it to 
thy beautiful heart,
thy beautiful heart -
that was borne 
from pure love

all of thy 
beautiful dreams 
to believe 
to dream 
red life rosy and real

“Walk with courage”, 
she heard her say,
"Soft footsteps always follow,
They’ve never walked away,"

"In thy dreams 
I guard thee still, 
from wolves 
and monks 
all monsters -

men and women
gone astray"

In that strange
contained place
that place of the Fey,
both are walking 
side by side 

together
in pure Light, 

a strong power,
in conversation
they hold, 
deep of the mind,
the two from the Fey

"All will come good 
on the morrow

For the 
Blue Faery’s Baby,
there is to be 
no more bleeding
Black Sorrow

Love, hear me now,
Time is tumbling
Love - pure and strong,
with all of thy 
beautiful heart

Time, 
tis no more time,
to be borrowed.

Love's kiss 
from a mother's 
pure heart
breaks forever and now
the Papillon Spell".

(Lovejoy-Burton, August 2018)
for my daughter, 
Georgia -

Close your eyes 
when you listen to the music...
it adds more power to the spell.
I am always with you. Always.
ALL my Love - Always.
The Blue Faery.





"Conjunto", Symphony for 8 Cellos
PeterRudolfi, Youtube
https://youtu.be/cKEq56mDLg4






I am with you all the way. 
Love, Mum.

Details | Leanne Lovejoy-Burton Poem

Captive Deep Blue Je Reviens


"Captive Deep Blue Je Reviens"





I walk beside you 
in your dreams,
you are always in me 
warm and pounding, 
twin heart, 
burning bright flame, 
beautiful addiction
captive deep blue je reviens
Sun igniting, 
I stand with you, invisible 
we are haunting 
the deserted 
French vanilla streets, 
where time stands still
I am always holding your hand, 
fingers entwined
the warm breeze caresses skin, 
lingers like lips
your after scent hidden on me.

Undressed 
my deserted garden 
waits wild, abandoned, 
growing lurid pinks recklessly
stranded impatiens 
they are waiting
lying open 
in beckoning lush wet valleys
of pungent violets, wild primroses,
erin lillies and oriental orchids
serpents climbing 
thick green wooded trees
wrapping legs, bare feet 
“K.I.S.S.”, you whisper to me.

I never leave you 
throughout my days
you are always in me
warm and pounding, 
obsessed my dangerous
possessed ruinous twin heart, 
burning bright flame, 
beautiful addiction
captive deep blue je reviens 
and the nights I sleep
breathing in and out 
in crushed velvet dark 
your name speaks mine
whispering sweet longings
sliding hips our hands
drawing new cartography.

Awake 
I am searching for you
while scrying mirrors 
it’s not my eyes I see
Yours are the windows
of another soul 
staring back at me
Somewhere 
on the other side 
worlds away from me 
Confederate Ghost
bewitching familiar
haunting passionate 
down to a sunless sea
my spent obsidian 
clandestine Coleridge
My absent Valentine 
Split in two, 
living in another time.

I walk 
beside you 
in your dreams,
you are always in me 
warm and pounding, 
twin heart, 
burning bright flame, 
beautiful addiction
captive deep blue je reviens

My absent Valentine.

(Lovejoy-Burton/Jan 2018)




“And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst 
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.  “





"And It All Began With You" / Gary Numan
https://youtu.be/fM265RXVxLw







"The Harp Player" by artist Henri Adrien Tanoux in 1913.

"a damsel with a dulcimer in a vision once I saw...."

Details | Leanne Lovejoy-Burton Poem

Next Chapter


“Next Chapter”


 
There will always be a next chapter
Written or not, this is of no matter
What matters is the colour forming in your world

Black is not a colour, it dominates, shades and swallows other colours up,
It exists to be blended with White, a vacant aberration one can easily fill in and colour over
What one is looking for is the colour in the spectrum, not yet found
To be newly created with all available emotions to hand and heart and mind

There will always be a next chapter
Written or not, this is of no matter
What matters is the colour forming in your world

Beginning
End? there never is an end

What matters is the colour forming in your world



(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 March)

Details | Leanne Lovejoy-Burton Poem

The Circe Effect - Part 1


"The Circe Effect" (Part 1)


Circe, Goddess of magic, nymph, witch, bold enchantress
daughter of Helios, Sun God, her father, can you imagine? ... 
let me paint you further, the tree of this wacked-out family canvas -
daughter of Perse, her mother, wild Oceanid Nymph, spawned not on landmass, 
but in the vast deep blue deep.
Aeetes, her brother hung tight to his Fleece 
and Pasiphaë, her sister, given in marriage to King Minos of Crete,
had a fling with a monstrous White Bull, 
a gift from Poseidon, ain't that so sweet? 
she bore a bastard child, the Monataur with a ring in his nose, 
horns and hoofed feet.

Now there was a family of total dysfunction
and Circe, poor dear, betrayed for remaining herself, 
remaining non-function
was banished to Aeaea for murdering her husband
the Prince of Colchis.

There on Aeaea, as revenge, Circe drew out her magic wand - not a sword,
transmuted her enemies, all those who offended her into wild beasts, 
where they were left to circle her mansion and roam to eat swill as their feast.
Docile not dangerous, drugged and delerious, 
these beasts never gored - 
they were fawned on by all newcomers, who were simply just curious, 
never bored. 
These entranced beasts lured newcomers  to our girl Circe
with a woof and purr.

Enter Circe, quite disturbed, in a logical kind of way.
“More pets for me!”, she thought, “they will never stray”.
These lonely, adventurous vagabonds who ventured into her lair,
well, she showered them with all her incantations, but they never heard 
her words of Love ever there – 
Circe would finally reveal who she truly was, 
for you see by now all that pain, all that hurt
had converted our dear old Circe into a siren
otherworldly, deadly lethal, mysterious, re-birthed;
all that ventured into her Kingdom now were 
captivated by her spells and 
then promptly, with a wave of her wand, 
transfigured forevermore 
as creatures,
of her Elysian Fields interred.

(Lovejoy-Burton/ Dec 2017)

Details | Leanne Lovejoy-Burton Poem

Winter's Journey - Part 1b


“Winter’s Journey”  (Part 1b)


Your mother's Universe resounds inside you 
where you are every single sparkling star 
in every planet’s sky, the Galaxies are vast you see, 
in you she’ll never die.

You are all the pearls in all her deepest azure oceans, 
every minuscule grain of sand, 
all the coal shining precious diamonds in far away mysterious lands, 
and the perilous ocean ice-packs where she stood so strong for you.
You are all the treasures in her treasure box, spilling out from
bulging lid,
lying quietly in your very own ocean for you to discover when you're 
not a kid.

You must remember Little Bear, you're never really 
alone nor apart. 
Mother Bear is crying out her messages loud and very clear
all over strange clouds and distant airwaves to you,
that she is always very very near. 
It rings mercilessly out it’s message 
like a toll bell ringing in a raging ocean storm, 
remember this message always, 
nothing could ring more clearer -
What you think is “easier” 
is never, 
usually the norm.

Believe what she has taught you, the Truth will always steer you Home
when your inner map is foggy, 
or your caught pinned somewhere perilous 
beneath this expansive Dome.
Listen and remember, keep faith in what she imparts,
this is your shield to deflect all that will burn only for a little while, 
it’s just a slight nip, a sharp sting,
but will never be the Fire that will ever destroy your heart.
You take your lessons from her, an elixir full of love,
you fall over, you get straight back up again, put on your special gloves; 
you’re made of her strong stuff you see and it is made from unbreakable
LOVE.

The TRUTH is Baby bear,
a Sea Leopard never changes it’s spots.
This is what you must remember, never forget,
not one jot.

I know it is hard to fathom, let it sink where it belongs.
The Strongest Kindest Polar Bear would forgive, learn and reflect,
but the Strongest Kindest Polar Bear, will impart to you now,
one must never ever forget.

Little Bear, you must get back in the Ocean 
swim through all that flotsam too,
follow the other Polar Bears, your like-minded stalwart brethren 
to pristine crystal water views.
Have no fear
you will make it through all that wash,
they are the ones you want swimming with you,
not the other shallow dross, 
the ones stuck in a Zoo, 
the ones caught in steel cages
standing in their own poo.
Follow the Sea Birds, the Albatross too, 
for they are good luck to bring a 
Mother HOME to you.


(Lovejoy-Burton/Dec 2017)

Best Poems Written by Leanne Lovejoy-Burton

Communion

The Swoon Hypothesis - Part 1

Black Swan Theory

My Daughter My Nation

Die Another Day

Thy Beautiful Heart: the Blue Faery's Baby

Captive Deep Blue Je Reviens

Next Chapter

The Circe Effect - Part 1

Winter's Journey - Part 1b