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Blue Jade

Shivering shimmers of scars passed out of my scarlet, scarred past. My ginger demons engulfed the fermented pain as I watched my regal orchid—the fussiest, sacred damsel who jitterbugs as an exiled seraph. Her candlelight sillage serenades the subtle feel of my leaping breath. Her funnel eyes race the basil sky, cutting through evaporated lightning in the caves of a fuming volcano. I feel a brush of her finger through my damp, curly hair—I wished. Let her imagination fuel up my raven-veiled vision lost in the betrayal of a saffron eclipse. Days when I'm lost to the swings of the wind, she abandons my wings. And nights when the rosemary fog finds me unseen, she nestles in them. This illusion is an assembly of unanswered pleas, laid in the chapel of legitimate temptations. Oh! My exalted camellia: do your feet need worshipping? Should my dreamy eyes dare stare at your consuming touch? Would you bind me if I stayed? Would she blind me if I lost my grip? No screams in the shadows of my anguish, no struggle in the streams of stinging, singing sorrows. But in my eleutheromania, I see her—hidden in a distorted realm, paddled with a haunting desire to consume me. I have no control over these segmented delusions; they draw me to the ceilings of doom, and I'm thrown into a hallucinated and repetitive retort, flashing through the turmeric storms of brokenness. I am now an epitaph—a rotten residual with no vestige. My tears have been named Stygian, entangled in melancholia, where my limerence left me on the effluvium shores of the Mediterranean. In this slumber hymn of querulous twinge, I am an aching dirge, set to lament in a barren dysphoria. The chants of her sadness led me to the stable of concentrated bleeding. I have made a convenient covenant with the stars that sneak into my ember room. I exchanged my ruby mist for a broken chandelier, channeled through the enchanted prison of an anaemic concoction. That angst! that pang, is the flow of River Niger grief when my lover’s hands refuse to touch me. I made her the cynosure of my existence. I called her amaranthine and crowned her with beryl. I saw her even when my eyes were closed. She stayed, like the clouds, even when it rains. Now, in this temple of my counterfeiting self, I twirl in the belly of a wounded beast, ready to flag my healing as I chase the destiny of faded loss, detaining me in a void where the fate of my smile never sees the golden moon. Here, I lay homesick in saudade, waiting to be held

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Date: 3/31/2025 9:27:00 AM
Your narrative captures the soul. So full of imagery and metaphors. A lovely read.
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Date: 3/14/2025 11:50:00 AM
Dear Tonye, Your latest writing is a mesmerizing menagerie of emotions and stellar imagery. Your artistry creates such a haunting picture of love, loss, and longing that it touched me deeply. I'm in awe of your ability to ink such intricate metaphors and evocative language. I miss your PS presence and hope you're doing well. Your friendship means the world to me, and I'm here if you need anything. Take care, my dear friend, and I hope you are alright. Spring Blessings, My Dear Friend, Daniel
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Date: 2/8/2025 12:44:00 PM
Thus is a deep, intrinsic poem. The use of a flower to describe a loved one is novel. I enjoy the intensity of the story, and the lonely ending, which leaves me still wondering.
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Tonye George
Date: 2/14/2025 4:37:00 PM
Thank you Hilda. Hugs.
Date: 2/5/2025 9:07:00 PM
Oh my! you excel in narrative dear poet. A quick thought crossed my mind as I read through you, you gotta write for Sotto Poet's contest. 'Lexiphile' club!!! awesome. Congratulations on your win dear poet. Cheers.
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Tonye George
Date: 2/14/2025 4:38:00 PM
Thank you Mysore. I appreciate.
Date: 2/5/2025 5:40:00 PM
Tonye, any love is good love'n, but there is always someone special to us, that's when you know. We'll be feeln' real pangs of love as Valentine's Day closes in! Have a nice one.
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Tonye George
Date: 2/14/2025 4:39:00 PM
Ah! Yes, Anaya. Thank you for your wonderful comment. Happy Val.
Date: 2/5/2025 12:43:00 AM
Excellent free verse. Nice to read. Congrats on placing. Please enter my next contest on Glenn Hughes!!!
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Tonye George
Date: 2/14/2025 4:39:00 PM
Thank you, Rebert. I appreciate it.
Date: 2/4/2025 8:09:00 AM
Hey Tonye, so great to see you posting... Your poem is a beautiful, though painful, exploration of emotional intensity. The lyrical quality and the richness of the metaphors elevate the narrator's internal chaos into a vividly painted landscape, where love, loss, and longing are not only felt but almost tangibly experienced. The emotional depth and complexity of the poem leave the reader with a sense of poignant sadness and a haunting sense of unresolved yearning.
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Tonye George
Date: 2/14/2025 4:40:00 PM
Thank you so much, dearest Silent. I appreciate your support, always.
Date: 2/4/2025 1:43:00 AM
Your vocabulary is of the highest degree. Wonderful to read.
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Date: 2/3/2025 1:48:00 PM
Nobody writes angst like Tonye. Were you writing from a male perspective? Sometimes I'll switch genders for a poem. In any case, the loss and separation are palpable. In the end, she's just a girl. She just wants to be held tight
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Tonye George
Date: 2/14/2025 4:41:00 PM
Hahaha. Right T. Thank you for that compliment. I appreciate it. Yeah, I was writing from that perspective.
Date: 2/3/2025 12:32:00 PM
Ahhhh dear sweet tonye! I am in awe of your way with words! I must say i love the way youv written in a very evocative manner, as if you are reflecting and questioning so much and how youv woven metaphors and used such creative colors and the ending really is soul stirring and poignant! Excellent poem so wel articulated like always! Perfect poem to read before i hit the sack! I must say you have a way with getting readers connected and hooked from the very beginning til’ the end .Best wishes
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Tonye George
Date: 2/14/2025 4:42:00 PM
Thànk you lovely Inky. I appreciate your comment and support Love. Happy sweetest Valentine from me to you.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things