Crystal tears drown under the best velvet distinctive feel
A Ghostly feel that leads into a clear diamond road
I found myself seduced down an Ancient Silk Caravan path,
There she hid behind the golden stones she built around her heart.
She was a white gem against the deepest night
She spoke Latin words upon this dreamy sky
Her eyes were deep and the size of my mother’s midnight pearls
I fell into the stare of her bedroom eyes
Wishing to taste the sweetness of her coconut milk fragrance.
She lowers the cloak to reveal the beauty in her black pearly eyes
Raven hair under her soft sensual disguise
Her lips redder than the violet rays of the sunset
She buried her beauty, and then exposed what’s under the cloak
Soon, her body turned into rot and bones
Her fingers pointed towards another path,
A rugged road of stones and pearls
I took a blade and press it against my skin,
Concealing my life shut, after she revealed all my forbidden sins
Her lip, her eyes, her pearly grin, my last vision as my blood drew thin
A sweet kiss of death, falling into the eyes of Pandora’s Spell
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
Some lives are like a stone quickly skipping over the ponds top, forever tossed.
My life is below the surface trying to reach upward with each breathe lost.
But there is still beauty, deep down here in the great depths below…
For the solitude holds me in its grip as I dwell with what I know.
My occasional trips to the surface leave me vastly wanting more…
Still, my life below the surface doesn’t scare me as it did, once before.
And the breaths will come when given, as my life continues to flow.
True it is dark but beauty lingers, everywhere the currents move below.
At times, the surface reflections seem surreal, as if it’s a place not to go.
Comfort comes more and more to my soul, as the deeper I glide below.
Here I dwell within myself, with words, and thoughts, that carry me along.
Perhaps I have found where I truly belong, as I sing my siren songs.
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2012
Sad Heart, now thou art wither’d from the Sun,
What man, or god, will near thee run?
Wrought in twist like branches in Tempests' gasp,
What Comfort, or Gauze, shall be near to grasp?
True ones begotten are the ones now Rotten
And the ones now Rotten will never be forgotten
They are merely sad remains of assiduous Tears
That have been meddl’d with and tatter’d Raw throughout the years
And thou, cruel Mind, that sat’st still thru toiling trail of Night;
Must dream your broken Dreams; thou’rt a sanely flight!
Can thou extinguish passions of Fire, Disease, or Rain?
—tho thy distinguish’d influence trains to abstain
Thy Remnants brought to debris in thy Empty street,
Devour’d by Vultures, their bestow’d beaks entreat
Merely are they cleaning an inexhaustible Mess
Alas! Leaving thy rudiments of Identity to redress....
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2012
The Perfect Story
Ingredients.... My Epic Melody!
I spread my wings,
To carry you into that perfect ride.
Allowing you to communicate with my mind.
I'll show you what my perfect story would have in it.
With the world's enigma not everyone can find.
Words twisted with reality and beauty divine
The majestic ways to live with fairy tales combined.
Show no weakness towards the mercy of my gift.
Unleash the lightning, leaving all competition behind.
Pierce every word with my gleaming eyes.
You'll find yourself in the ebony of the blind.
A space passing every constellation with no regrets of return.
Assault the moment of the mind with the perfect line..
Expect pain, love, death, and desires that burn.
A trap for the follower to sink in.
Losing yourself to the evil garden underneath the green fern.
Falling in love with the mental link of my imagination.
Rising from the ashes that killed every demon in my nations.
Rescued by the light of he who rode the wind of fate.
Breaking an oath to give every perfect story a-
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2011
A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
Split apart your ribcage,
Open up the corridor, and let me come in
Uneasiness instantly strikes through me
Let me sway away...
Let me flutter away...
Like a butterfly out of its cocoon
I'm trapped!Let me depart
Split apart your ribcage,
Unwrap me, let me go!
Believe me...reflect on me
Let me sway away...flutter away
Let us both seek the sun,
So we can grow together once more
Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2010
As I think back to that dark time in our community I don’t know if I’d ever seen anyone quite
like that (Cinder Girl). We girls thought she had (Lovely Bones). The last time I saw her alive,
she was sitting on her porch blowing a (Dandelion Wishing) for a long life.I think she knew
that (Before Night Falls) her (Worst Fear) would be realized. The beast from the nether
world, who I think directed everything was that (Dog That Wears a Cone). He sat in her side
yard staring at her. The locals called him Cujo, he was (By Any Other Name), (The Beast of
Our Making). Cujo aside, (That Guy Paul) Cujos’ minion, was one (Bloody Bastard). He was
going to involve Cinder in (A Rural Tragedy) of epic proportions.
It went down on a (Heavy Slush)y winters’ eve guaranteed not to be a pastoral (Scene On a
Road in Winter). I had entered the old abandoned farmhouse on my way home from town. I
was cold and my feet were wet from the slush. I sat down in a small room out of the draft. I
heard voices outside. Paul endured (The Wait) for his accomplice in the cold. When she
arrived he began talking to (The Girl Who Wears the Dragon Tattoo). Then I saw what he
(What was I Thinking) (What If) they found me hiding (Inside This Little Room). Paul and the
dragon lady were sweaty (Toilers at the Trench), digging frozen dirt in winter is hard work. I
heard Paul laugh as he said to “TATS,” this time we’re (Cleaning House)… Was I next?
Suddenly, the opportunity for escape from this nightmare arose. Jake the bumbling county
snow plow driver unknowingly swung the truck onto the farmstead with its’ halogen lights
probing deep (Into Night). He had (Thwarted) their hiding this heinous crime. The sight he
illuminated gave me the [That Potent Urge(Gotta Go, Gotta Go Right Now)]. I ran from that
house into the night. No one ever knew I was there and since Jake was the only witness the
court needed, I never came forward.
Jake had never been (My Kind of Apple) because (Jake Sure Loved His Beans). Regardless,
Jake unknowingly saved my life that night. I never thought it would happen but over time I’d
grown accustomed to the gas. We were married late last fall and as we left the reception I
saw Cujo on a nearby hill wearing that ominous cone. I thought to myself as he watched us
leave, he knows…
Oh God, he knows I was there!
*This narrative derived from the titles of one poets work here on the Soup.
Copyright © John Trusty | Year Posted 2010
I love you today,
I loved you the days,
Before those ones... .. .
Yet kept a secret
No one knows
Silents DON'T last
A child's laughter
Ain't easy to hide you
ONE DAY IT'S,
Copyright © Chelsey D Moore | Year Posted 2014
Smokeless inhales hurt.
I cough tar on my shirt.
As my black lungs breathe,
Shrilling exhales wheeze.
The nicotine cracks
Copyright © Hyle Chu | Year Posted 2009
Chain smoke until
I'm in care of the CO.
There's one left, still.
I smoke it really slow.
"It's the end," I anticipate
As the last inch evaporates.
I can't get
It's over before
I know it.
Butt, I can't quit.
I'm possessed with this
Obsession; I'm addicted.
My lungs have oxygen,
Yet I'm suffocating inside.
I can't breathe again
Without my 'noxide.
Copyright © Hyle Chu | Year Posted 2009
my heart breathes its last breath
Embraces its own death
Ready to be reborn
and made anew
Can’t live a lie
Refuse to “do”
and I’ll DIE....
Focus now on why I’ll live
And never touch the sky.
I have to forget you
I have to reject you
But I will never love anyone
like I loved you.....
I heard you whisper
and you never knew it
I wiped the tears from your eyes
But you couldn’t feel it
You’re lost and you’ll never find you
And neither will I
And I’m so sorry--
but I’m NOT.
I'll attempt to reset
Try to forget
But you know, I never will.
Be my dirty little secret
My very worst-kept secret
Sweet, smooth, beautiful poison
My infernal and endless attraction
towards complete and utter self-destruction
I fell in love with the devil
And it will take one heck of an angel
To save me from the likes of you....
my dream never to come true
Oh, I’ll never forget the times
we never shared
I’ll never forget
how you were never there
Always me, the stars, and tears
And I ask you,
what kind of life is THAT?
I have to face the facts
I don’t know what happens now
but it happens without you.
The stains will always be there
the scars will never fade
But the memory of you----
it HAS to.
I could carry the torch forever
But it would only consume me
I can’t cry another tear for you
Or I’ll dry up completely
It doesn’t affect you
and you never deserved me
You’ll go on with your life, too
All, all alone
Because you’ll only ever be in love
Copyright © SLS It Is Rife With Ambiguity | Year Posted 2011
The steady pull
a tease on
When I can sleep,
I take what dreams
In these dreams,
my 'noxide comes
to ward me.
Her smoke is an invitation.
the con science
of my imagination.
I give in
and reality spins.
Between the sleeps,
I lie in sanity.
Did I give into
did I'd err?
smoke in the air?
Copyright © Hyle Chu | Year Posted 2009
She and the handsome gentleman finalized the contract, and he gently placed
the antique pearl necklace into the palm of her tiny hand. As he walked away,
she fantasized about making love with him, for he possessed both charm and
exceptional good looks; he certainly was enchanting...thick, black wavy hair,grey-
green eyes...tall...muscular ~ oh, those muscles...all over his tanned body...head
But she wondered about that limp as he walked away, depending on a heavy
after all, an eternity of beauty and power in exchange for
The evening of the deed was a frigid six degrees, and there was a dead smell of
the sun. She stayed late after work, waiting anxiously until everyone had gone.
Finally, he was alone in his office, so she placed the pearl necklace around her
fragile neck and unbuttoned her red, silk blouse so to reveal her sexy red
She entered the office, and gently leaned over him from behind; he was aroused
by the scent of her "Red Door" cologne...his favorite, and his senses were even
more heightened as he turned around and observed her erect breasts speaking
in a language only he understood. With his large hands, he slowly explored her
thighs, making his way up her black skirt.
"You have beautiful legs."
"You think so, huh?"
They kissed, and the necklace brushed his chest; he didn't feel well, at all. He
was hot...so hot, and his body began its metamorphosis, retaining a grayish
then, disappeared along with all omens of the deed.
She walked over to the black wrought iron mirror and smiled; her wrinkles were
gone...vanished...just as promised; she was ten years younger.
The windows began sweating, and the handsome stranger appeared.
"I have one more assignment for you."
"But we made a deal, one soul."
She began to feel peculiar, and as she viewed herself in the black mirror, she
began aging...ten years...twenty...thirty...she pulled out a large clump of thin, white
The room darkened from his moonly mind.
"My dear, the other soul...is yours."
Copyright © Tamiviolet Manchas | Year Posted 2007
I do not know?
My eyes can see
That the sand is like sea
And it stretches to the end of my mind
On a ship set to sail
with four legs and a tail
Tishmandu I set out to find
Now the wind is of sand
and can lend a hand
in tearing the flesh from your bone
So your head you keep wrapped
your snaps keep snapped
and you never travel alone
The heat at midday
is to kill and waylay
if the body and soul are not one
So you pray to the east
and prepare for slim feast
begging passage under full sun
Caravan of the seed
born on camels that breed
in an endless march between wells
Over lost count of dunes
under God and full moons
blessing passage with incense and bells
At the end of the day
when gold turns to grey
and the stars brighten the skies
A device is brought forth
to determine true north
and the path where Tishmandu lies
On the fortieth morn
pressing lips to the horn
a signal beckons us wake
Leaving water behind
on a course now refined
the final leagues we must take
Tishmandu is a place
where a white mans face
has never been seen or allowed
But the people have need
and my service agreed
in a land under sky without cloud
Like feathers of blue
in the distance I view
the flags on top of the walls
Though my limbs are worn
my very fabric is torn
I move towards Tishmandu halls
At last in the shade
a walled shelter is bade
I meet with the maker of rules
A service I bring
but to rules I must cling
or a tortures price must be paid
Twenty days and seven
in the passes of heaven
I treated the sick and the lame
With rules on my mind
the medicines I grind
The devil of Tish for to tame
As I washed the sick
and avoided blunt stick
the God of the desert did smile
For the people made well
in this fortified hell
where spirit is subject to trial
In the end I am paid
for the journey I made
and the healing and medicine new
On my camel back
salted meats in my pack
I Bid farewell to Tishmandu
Copyright © Ray Mattos | Year Posted 2011
This new born day I celebrate your souls release from guilt n’ captivity since that day you
felt a carnal touch of sin within as your hands played poetically upon the curves of your dead
lover’s silken skin…
I know now you made your way to the top of the rocks to plant a tree to guard this sacred
place where I fell from thee n’ you repeated the poetic chant of love’s abandoning to follow
me into our karmic destiny…
On that fateful day your soul bled away at the top of this crest by a solitary juvenile tree,
your body of words fell to the rocks at the base of this cliff, embroidered into the blood of
The one who would hold a feather to her face on this crest by the sea n’ remember finally
the days gone by of you n’ me, our deaths from love’s abandoning when you my love were
lost to this world n’ me for ten centuries…
I now await destiny as we will love forever more with immortal hearts…
Copyright © Lilt Of Orpheus | Year Posted 2009
Look at me
I am the life in a wasteland
Look at me
I am the slavery through the ages
Look at me
I am the mirror of the world
Look at me
I am the illusion I’ve fought for
Look at me
I’m still loving you
and I keep being here
for you, for me,
and for what’s worth breathing
Copyright © Rixa White | Year Posted 2012
Will I Recognize… The Face Of Love?
Or the Wonderful, Bedazzled Appearance of:
A Moon-kist Meadow, Hushed and Dark
A Solitary Silhouette, this Beauty Mark,
Windswept Grasses, like a Babe’s Soft Lashes
Rippling across Earth, that’s smooth as a Cheek.
In the Hushed and Flowery Scented Air…
Your Face of Love Materializes, Silvery, Full
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable.
From the Face of Love … Will I Withdraw?
The Face of Love without Any Flaw;
As a Canopy of Clouds with the Splendor of Sunbeams
Piercing past the fluffy powder of Heaven, to Radiate Gleams
A Classical Cameo-Sculpture, Perfect Profile Structure
Yea… in the Bright Beacons, I see Your Smile
In the Illumed, Clear Sky, ‘Your Face’
Can Love’s Face be Touched … Attainable?
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable.
The Face of Love … I Have Visualized,
Potent, Breathtaking, The Vision Rised;
From a Sunlit Lake, Winking as Would Diamonds.
Your Face of Love, Emerging from Far Beyond
The Depths of the Lake, as My Heart Quaked,
because of the Wavering Portrait’s Peace
because of Water-Color Caresses.
That Face of Love, was so Tangible.
The Face of Love … so Unforgettable
The Face of Love … has Gazed Upon
Dreams of Mine, the World’s Not Known
… Out of the Woodland’s Emerald Mist
With Drops of Dew, Love’s Face Kissed
The Framing Boughs; My Relaxed Brow.
Floating… Breathing out the Mist of Morn Light
That I may Sketch Your Face of Love, in Life.
The Face … More Handsome, than Sons of the Womb, is Possible…
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable
(For A Medieval-Tongued Poet, I Found Here at The Soup...
Ismael Nieves, this one's for you Kiddo
Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2009
If The Lord be willing,
Well so then I am too!
I’ll be sending out His healing,
Some for Him and some for you!
If the Lord be willing,
Well then I’m thrilling!
I’ll be sending out a clue.
One is yellow and one is blue.
If the Lord be willing,
Then I’ll be chilling!
Well bent on kneeling,
Atop of His own ceiling!
And that will just have to make my perfect due!
Because He came through me just to get to you!
Copyright © Ann Rich | Year Posted 2009
The winds of the night creep in on you and they are up and about.
They surround you in the darkness and shed you into some light.
They are given and they are taken with your most silent thoughts.
They pass through your hidden fears and come from plain sight.
The winds of the night so clever and discreet they really are.
They hold no boundaries to your beginning and nor to your end.
They are warm and they are cold rising above you and reaching up from far.
They are of their own power and hold onto all claims of their own.
The winds of the night come sending a message to the unknown.
The winds of the night are aimless but when directed they drift all together.
They are dangerous when calm at night a sight not even one has really seen.
They are unsettled with no balance yet predictable by where they all concur.
They capture what is felt and heard because they’re accepted as they’re deemed.
The winds of the night come and go for they are on a lifelong mission.
They are silent within your journey for they can not be spoken to or touched.
They exist for your life bringing the world into its final rule on deception.
The winds of the night carry enough strength to lead a massive world into the unjust!
Copyright © Ann Rich | Year Posted 2009
Aristotle, who once said, “A flatterer is a friend,
Who is your inferior, or pretends to be so.”
Magician or not, the appraisal we try to defend,
Veneer covered ready, prepare for the overthrow.
And a splint named psychology supports nowt,
Tender are the suspicions, a tourniquet gripped,
That of emotion, a trend compared with doubt,
And complacency set amongst the less equipped.
Human form takes shape of Copernican theory,
Between each other, is the central perspective
Years ahead in terms of mind, yet still we query.
Remaining wary, they’ve listened so corrective.
A glimmer of paradise from that which destined
More positive than rightful, for instance, must,
Be seen as most probable, avoiding a rescind
Of harmonies that quaver a motion. Well, just!
And the motion we speak of, like a whisper,
Eases the tension between people who feather,
The hearing sensation shall understand crisper
Torn between plusses and negatives; whether!
The flatterer is found as the darkest seclusion,
Reflection of them is the question of mystery
A misty environment that forms that illusion
Chronically synchronized a challenge to history,
To beat out the drum of intention, as constant
A theory relating to trust involving apple trees
Has a Newtonian law which shall transplant,
Gravity, attached friends upon a breeze.
In feather-like spirit, the meadow may drift
An illusion that folds from the first dew morn,
With goose bumps that wrinkle a wary shift
Trusts! Where the sugar sweet mentions are born.
That’s what friends are Law, children at heart,
Make-believe portfolios of whimsical worth,
Fasten the button on jumpers, and bonnet apart
When blue summer dye creates umber for earth.
Perceived as a coward on grass that’s not green,
Glass, not a ruby, when trust solves the riddle,
To finish this mantra this causes serene,
Convinced like a Titan’s romance of the fiddle.
Oh! Zeus, need we flutter the discord to ride
The twirls of Hyperion, who teaches the master,
To dance like an ocean and swirl like the tide,
As trust gains momentums avoid the disaster.
Copyright © Titus Llewellyn | Year Posted 2007
Face for fading music
Disappearing in the distant
Those that stood still
Were called forth by the mystic
To answer a question
To answer the inquisition
For this was not the path
That they had been thinking
The witch doctor stood fast
His crazy eye twitching
He spoke slow...
"Your path... You will be switching!"
Batting his lashes
His vibes bellowed long
Their initial reactions:
Over looked and over drawn
With a wave of his hand
His visions showed real
Finally their eyes opened
Now looking to deal
The shaman then laughed
And threw up his arms
The skies began spinning
Bringing down the stars
The chosen few looked all around
And before long at each other
Awe lost in disbelief
One right after another
While the mystic's laughs grew hysterical
The rest fell to their knees
For no one knew the awful truth
Behind what the witch doctor sees
Copyright © K.C. Moonshine | Year Posted 2008
I do not know?
Smile. Laugh. Why must you command yourself?
Dont cry. Dont show them your organs.
Its all a lie, isnt it?
The very fabrics of life.
Do they see pain upon your face?
Does the sadness seep through?
Tears crystalize in your eyes.
Your too brave to risk wiping them away,
and not brave enough to let them pour.
Blink them away.
Good, you follow commands.
Do you know how to be a leader?
Do you close your eyes and walk?
Trust me. Follow the sound of my voice.
Will i lead you safely? Dont be so sure.
We are all liars at our root.
Push your self forward.
Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2010
My work finished
I glanced back at the clock
Ah… The Witching Hour
Hung heavy on the next tock
My thoughts raced back
To childhood days
To scary stories
Round campfires haze
To daunting dares
In dark woods maze
And then… It caught my eye
A phantom shape
That just moments before
Had been shadows tossed
Twixt the walls and floor
And I admit
Twas’ dimly lit
In chances knit
From where I sit
And then… I saw it move
Just then I thought
Tis’ time to trust and pray
And steady my hearts resolve
Should this be the reckoning day
And then I swear
The room grew cold
Moved to unfold
My chest I clutched
My soul to hold
And then… I heard it speak
“Time is at hand”
And those words comforted it seemed
And my God in a timeless moment
I became one with all I’d dreamed
Tis’ certain this
Event of page
Will visit all
Upon life’s stage
Life’s burning rage
Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2010
I do not know?
'Love is patient'
'Love is kind'
The thought of love
Can turn you blind.
But... Now we must
Take some steps
To verify those
The first problem you see
Was that. . .
He lied about
You being fat
That in turn
Led ya to
He 'accepted' you.
Mirrors were made
For a darn good reason
And thinking you are nothing special
Is high, high treason...
And no! He's kind
You've lost your mind.
The recipe to love Is that
You have to love your self.
It's not about your facial features
Or the size of ya belt.
The man should be a rock to lean on
And not! A heartless swine.
So please next time. Do pick him wisely
Make sure he has a spine!
Copyright © Annie De Lys | Year Posted 2012
A collaboration with Linda (Poet Destroyer)
Can't be re-written by the Gods
The land and sands of time
Destroyed by the fire of Poseidon's curse
Atlantis swallowed by: Earth
In one day and one night
Peaceful existence met its end
Built on a volcano, now surrounded by ancient rippled tears
Lava stripped apart the rich and glorious empire
Enriched by engineers and architects whom loved power more than the Gods
Forgotten souls, sheltered by a watery grave
History withheld from shallow sunken memories
Western sky's hide the truth, a vision from the Pillars of Hercules
"An island situated in front of the Strait of Gibraltar"
Ghostly ruins wait to rise above the Mediterranean and Atlantic waves
A magical land held down by the hands of death,
Atlantis lost city walls...a secret hidden by mermaids
Partially buried, beneath the ocean floor it lies
The largest sunken treasure never to be found
Magnificent pillars of an imperial palace still stand
Somewhere hidden under ancient sand
Some are leaning against turrets, that toppled after the impact
Nothing human will ever inhabit these walls
No feet will ever touch these staircases, again
Only an eerie silence now resides here, with the blue-green waters
Seaweed grows along it's outer walls, like ivy on a trellis.
Obscuring it even further from the human eye.
Other ocean tides will never compare
Tantalizing blend of fantasy and mystery
Stone walls covered with precious gems
...Listen to Plato's voice...
"Look close, look close, into the sea!"
Through the light and Pillars of Hercules
Some where out there buried in the vast
Atlantis the Paradise
Linda, I just wanted to say thank you for allowing me to write this awesome poem
with you. I truly appreciate all of the support that you have given me since I have been here. It is sad to see such a talented poet leaving the Soup.
You are one of my favorites, and I will miss you very, very much, Linda.
Always & Forever, Kelly
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014
generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them
Copyright © Green Trees | Year Posted 2012
In great respect of the band I grew up listening to
as sure as Mom passed down Saturday Chores
for I had been chosen to scrub bathroom floors `
Yet a familiar sound would bring me to keep scrubbing
The red album, The blue album , The White album
Then .. Abbey Road , always remembering the sad look on
Ringo's face , something hard to understand underneath~
I get it now, what you were saying all those years ago ,
the many sad lonely tears , secret tears , secret fears
For Maxwell's Hammer was a real one . It wanted silence
Going back ..remembering when John Lennon died
I was in Arkansas saddened with the world .
Then seeing his face saying " Drag isn't it "
No .. this was not my hero in music and song .
he was a stand in hired William , he filled his shoes
bringing diversity to create so much beautiful music from loss
One left standing , alone;; grief struck on back cover ~
The other identity hidden, tried to be part of ..coming together
his world of secrets
He to suffers today , in fear , Faul~
Too many years gone by .let us tell the Truth. Let us be free
The very sad long and winding Road ~
Let us Bury our real Paul.
No more " Mystery tour "
No more fear
Let him be in peace ~
Inspired by " The Last Testament of George Harrison , Is Paul Dead ? "
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
What could live beneath radiation's
Mushroom storm cloud?
The heavens are burnt asunder,
Horizons red dawn glows,
With an eerie mist.
Lightening and thunder strikes,
Against fallout’s atmospheric residue,
Ashes debris falls as embers fire.
Emerging from the depths below,
A creature surfaces, a monster
With rages vengeance, flowing
Through it's veins.
Born from human arrogance,
And ignorance, a genetic mutation.
Natures evolutionary throw back,
Our legacy of destruction,
A reptilian tidal wave.
With an earth shattering roar,
A tremendous force felt around,
He announce his calamity to come.
Wading through the ocean depths,
The king of all lizards,
A clashing titan, heading towards
Civilization, at torpedo's
Super sonic velocity.
A great reckoning is at hand,
Conflicts Jurassic hurricane,
Slams against the shores of
Reality, known as Tokyo bay.
Wreckage’s wrecking ball, tares apart
Mankind’s environmental habitat,
Without any mercy.
Hell's fiery breath, is spewed forth
From his jaws of death, radioactivity's
After shock, lives within this dooms
As electricity's feedback, shimmers
Downwards, on his spiny back,
Seemingly to recharge the beast.
He roars once more, as a wake up call,
Beware his name lives in your
Behold Godzilla, the king of all
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014
Engraved in chromes steel, is benedictions creed
The road warrior's born to be free mentality,
A legacy's name embossed in history, behold
The American Harley Davidson Motorcycle.
Fires hell bound creation, blazing down the
Interstates two lane highway, feasting upon
The concrete and asphalt jungle, it lives to be driven,
And is driven to live.
Emerging from brimstone's smoke, and hails
Lightning flash, a two wheeled vehicle of deliverance,
Cuts the wild heart in half, releasing mankind's
Inner beast setting it free, unto the open roads
Badlands, of ultimate abandonment to freedom's row.
The rebel unforgiven,thus follows the lost by ways
Seeking liberation’s untamed spiritual knowledge.
Held firmly beneath the wings of the American eagle, and
Draped within the standard most sacred
Under the red, white, and blue flag, of the U.S.A.
A living entity, releasing society's inhibitions,
At the sound of it's mighty roar, a freed lone wolf,
Racing against the winds of the restless spirit.
The leather jacket's brotherhood, symbolizing
A grand belief in the declaration of independence,
That all men are created equal, and shall have the
God given right, to seek true freedom's liberty at will.
These are the modern cowboy desperado's,
Riding upon dual engines of power,
Time bandits whom trust in God and country alone.
A stampers anvil strikes in thunders rage,
Melting quick silver, speeds downwards
Into a symbolic mold, leaving behind tradition's
Birthmark, and the Harley Davidson symbol
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014
All things that glow and move,
all things that change and pass,
I gather their delight
as in a burning-glass;
The Queen's Conjurer
'Given to magic and uncanny arts'
'Art mathematical' to make strange works
Genius of movement artificial
Mechanical scarab perceived in flight
Miracles and marvels to rival God,
Pneumatics, mirrors, secret pulleys, springs;
Much wonder does such kinaesthesia bring
to an audience ignorant of such things
Rumours spread that he employs diabolic means
"Hugger muggerey abounds, "they say
"He has become a companion of Hell hounds"
Conjuror of wicked and evil damned things.
In the Queen's Palace dispensing advice
Master of all the marvels of science
His chambers are but a labyrinth of books
Botanic study, Astrology, Theology,
hieroglyphic monad's from the zodiac
All about him reeked of subjects mysterious
crystal balls, cryptic maps, looking glasses,
He dabbled in demonology,
And in the languages of Angels
to induce latent forces of heaven and earth.
Alchemic distilling of smoking potions
Clear bright liquids of thrixotropic sky
Tinctures of lilac, jet and aquamarine
Magical seals wrapt up in blood red silk
Paraphernalia of the most dastardly ilk
Beware the blazing star, the fiery Trigon
Beware the stranger, the melancholic one,
His powers to summon up bright squadrons
Beware of knowing unknowable things
A shape-shifter brings unseemly doings.
Accusations of sorcery abound,
Powder ground from the Philosopher's stone
Strange Adamic alphabets, origins
of a language God used to name living things
Invocations to the four directions of wind
Solstice, equinox and on full moons
calling on all the secrets of Angels,
Spells translated from Agrippa's Magic Book
Cryptic information from archangels
A treasure of heavenly wisdom, or
is it the basest of trickery? Alas
In his obsession to know all, the Conjurer ,
fell under the spell of a wicked trickster.
Such a cauldron of knowledge was "Mortlake"
A place for resurrecting wisdom,
For conjuring ideas from old ways of thinking
So many converged for this common cause
A Polish prince clothed in robes of bright purple,
seeking to obtain the Kingdom of Moldavia
Sponsor of Paracelsus foreseen by Galvah
Even a gentle Italian friar
referring to formulas by Pythagoras
motifs of magic to shadow ideas
As spirits skipped brightly through addled minds
Playful Madimi, morose Murifri,
proclaiming, "Hell itself, of Earth, is weary "
Direct descendants of "Areopagus"
a manifesto in Defense of Poesy"
rotated in a zodiac of their own wit'
Were Westonia's fiery words
kindled here at mysterious Mortlake?
Prophecies came to them in visions,
of the great 'Armada' and the Queen's be-heading
Soon after a great tempest at midnight,
all secretly embarked from Gravesend
to fantastic and frightening domains
from which none of them would return unchanged.
In the dead of night past the Traitor's gate
Fled this intelligencer for the Queen
A spy, clandestine, eluding capture
for the "Poyson of Supposed Prophecies'
his 'heedless hap' left to the perils of the sea.
His life of secrets, of numbers and words
The power of magic in all little things
Trifling in the darkest of powers
he landed in dire consequence,
Twiddler of Thaumaturgy and wonders
Genius of Inter- traffique of thought
Tweaking his infinite 'twaberment'
for his complete mastery over life.
© Suzanne Delaney
For John Dee
Scientist of the Elizabethan Age
His last entry was
Pactum Factum, 'pact fulfilled.'
Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2015