Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.12.163.164
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem


I've always 
wandered in 
venus' orbs, 
searching for
the star-seed 
of my spirit that
has forsaken
it spiritual 
sanguinary and 
caged every 
fluorescent flicker 
in a sculptured
sanctuary of 
materialistic
metamorphosis. 

Wondering - 
what am I, 
in the camouflaging
shades of conscience
which streak 
abstract hues 
of ambiguity. 
Are we mere 
seraphims of 
flesh and bones? 
Or, are we just 
polished pawns of 
pirouetting lies? 

What are we, 
If not a twisted
repercussion of 
our maple musings, 
amongst amber 
desires that burn in 
an eternal flame? 
Don't we coruscate 
somewhere above 
magenta bubbles
of dawns and dusks, 
that float upon
creamy eyelids 
of earth -
embraced
in the chic arms of 
honeycomb sun. 

I believe, I'm 
a champagne breeze,
fluttering in 
citrine shine, 
like the fall of 
last bronze leaf, 
floating on 
chiffon sheath 
of sakura lake and
striving to fight 
off the silence 
that surges within 
those stormy swirls of 
glacial ripples, 
like a swordless 
samurai. 

I've been aching 
to shred every 
toxic sepal that 
poisoned each 
lush petal of 
newborn buds, 
who used to 
fruition from 
crystal cotyledons. 
Their thoughts
were tinted with 
fickle thistles, 
ebbing upon
decaying beliefs, 
shattering in 
streams of 
saturnine wails. 

I am, but a 
mosaic of 
Mona Lisa, 
not carved by 
any nectar of 
gold-acrylics, 
by flawless fingers,
of a philosophical
artist, but blended 
in abstract
terracotta textures 
of silverine 
soul chakras. 

Our mantra 
is like those 
roseate rivulets
within aqua amulets, 
who keep 
gushing against
tawny tapestries, 
glowing with passion
and desiring to 
reach towards those
orchestrating oceans. 

So, when the 
strawberry scents
of sandstone tulips 
have rotten and
my apricot angst
smears burnt orange
wildfires across 
pear orchards, 
where canaries 
chirp in mellow 
melodies of sorrow, 
I'll hold life's butterflies
close to my 
crescent-cores, 
forever remembering ~ 

"I'm a butterscotch sunflower, 
yearning to rise 
like pink-quartz-ash, 
in salty sunglow 
of summery sonata, 
when ochre drops
entwine and twirl, 
with my scorched lifeline..."

"Who am I, 
if every evanescent end
                and beginnings of a million yesteryears
                                     breathe in me?" 

~ We're the 'coeur de lumière précieuse', 
                     - a magick that never fades,
                            ~ as our inner child, still smiles...
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required