“Reverse Cyrano”
Reverse Cyrano
new wave poetry
straddles the ruins
milked
with two sugars
dark Tea dreams
red leaves laquer
the vain roadmaps
that stain the ingrained
with pommegranate poetry
the bejewelled heart
sweet and tart
and thick
skinned
sliced and skewered
each granate
a sparkling
hidden gem
within the ruby
words written
riding astride those worlds
like wolves
in those comforting
dicomforting whispering woods
for Cyrano reversed
so easily contracted
a hidden god and a poet
that lost lovers
may find submerged
in disoriented time adrift,
eyes open-wide undestracted,
the ravenous misunderstood unmissed.
Candide Diderot ‘25
bejewelled… dazzling…
gleaming gemstones shattered…
mafia mugging
Spring Abounds In Abundant Bountiful Glory
The sun above opens up the door
Morbid dark foreboding skies
Get swept away
The treasure chest opens up once more
And spills its overflowing treasures
Upon the new fertile ground
As a new day and a new season is freshly born
The welcomed taste of the summer
A promise and reminder
Of things yet to come
With cheerful hearts, we can relax again
And aspire to leisurely play and have some fun
The spectacular lavish bejewelled mosaic
Of varied textures and varied colour forms
Pastel shades and hues
Please one's eyes once forlorn
Now with prosperity lifting our spirits up
Filling our famished hearts like the golden corn.
it’s an endless void of emptiness
in a starkness filled with play
it’s a synonym of every dream
in an antonym yet to try
it’s a darkened apron of inkiness
in a sparkling bejewelled sea
it’s a long in-tangent monologue
in a verse-laden melody
it’s the flailing arms of solitude
in a crowded room of song
it’s a screaming siren tempest queen
in the court of an unready king
it’s high above what I can hold
in the grass I lay my head
it’s a dry old gaze as I’m looking up
in the forming dew before bed
I'm okay, you're okay is a mask in the land of pretend.
I see a face in the mirror.
I do not recognize the firelight facade
Is this the real me
hiding a darkness beneath the mask?
sprinkled fairy dust on pores of skin
layered makeup waxed on blemishes
strokes of rouge and fake eyelashes
and with mascara concealed miseries,
am I too pretending that all is well?
festering weary wounds in band-aids,
I do not know how to remove them.
The show goes on...dawn to dusk.
then the music stops and masks fall off.
flecks of sunlight stream through leaves
swirling amber in the last rays of afternoon
I see smiling eyes in the mirror
a real pearl bejewelled face
a garland of white jasmine.
I find the real me.
The old wooden gate is inviting.
A testament to the careful hands of a previous owner. It squeals a greeting as the celtic filigree moss yields to my presence.
I discard my footwear, seeing the need to connect with the fertile green mat of welcome. Apples hang like fragile bejewelled baubles, sweet and dew laden.
A translucent moist mist meanders above the emerald carpet.
I have no intention of disturbing the delicate beauty of the silhouetted trees, yet a whispering invitation begs me to taste and enjoy.
As I pluck the low-hanging blessing, ruddy red and crimson cool to the touch.. the trees whisper again to each other in musical melancholy.
I bite.
Revealing the future of humanity; like Eve, captured by a naive delight. The juice runs away from my lips like an uncontrolled lie.
I ponder, revealing the descendents in this sculptured core, as it falls from my loosened grasp. I can easily count the seeds in this apple, but could never count the apples in each seed.
I sense a Holy moment, knowing my soul will always be grateful for the symphony of the orchestral orchard.
Contest: Apple Picking
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
"Rabbits"
down the rabbit hole
we go
looking
for what, we are yet
to find and fully know
love leads us through
we look back for a little while
we observe shadow’s sad reflections
calling out to us
in the setting sun
we turn away, face forward,
we've just begun
we are at the intersection
and the Pooka
whispers -
"there’s no place like home"
"there's no place like home"
"there's no place like home"
time pulls us in, it runs
like a rabbit, fast
that ridiculous rabbit runs
breeds
urgency
a trite necessity
we’ve now opened emerald gates
our journey rumbles us
into the bejewelled jungle
familiars give us trouble
we fall in love fast
we bleed and stumble
we get up again
along the road
we grow,
we try for a while
to be sensible,
we try to be humble
humour winks,
and warns
invisible
rabbits
are trouble
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
"Alice"/ Gaga
https://youtu.be/q7v9roA5Ogw
"911/Gaga"
https://youtu.be/-oI4_shsYnE
LYRICS, "911", Gaga
https://genius.com/Lady-gaga-911-lyrics
PRETENSIONS
a fantasy
ego
self pleasing
sentimentality
symbolizing the
figurative
in
bejewelled
attire
in
distinctive
gesture
so allegorical
& memorable
floating
surreally
in primped
pefection
yet
pecularily
distorted
&
detached
but still
signalling
the flirtatious
in
meticulous
unreality
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Whispering gossamer wings
flutter on the zephyr breeze
I gaze in awe
as a beautiful butterfly
alights on buddleia blossoms
and marvel
at its bejewelled wings
which resemble a stained glass window
Whispering Wings Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
01/12/22
The Most Precious Of all.
.
With every single gifted heartbeat
And every single taken breath
I worship your very being and presence
With joyous smiling heart
Until I succumb to death
.
Thy colours be more beautiful
Than the most spectacular bejewelled garden
In the smile of a longed for
Enchanted summers day
Thy art the the rarest precious rose
Ever known to be
And take my breath away
.
How I hunger for your love
For I am famished my heart heavy
Thou be so far away
I need thy sweet butterfly kisses
To feed me every day
.
The reasons I love thee
Are as numerous as the diamond stars
That Spackle as thy mesmerizing eyes
My love but a overflowing fountain
And more deeper and more powerful than the sea
.
I give my life my heart and soul
Only to thee
And bathe in thy glory
For all eternity.
.
Peter Dome C 2021.
Candy Cotton Sky.
.
Snow white wisps of cotton candy
Patches of vivid blue peeking through
The yarning sun awoken by joyful pleasant bird song
As a gentle warming breeze Stirs the pretty flowers
Kissed by moisten droplets of clinging dew
.
The May thorn displays wedding gown
Scattered confetti proliferates the ground
Tendril blooms open their hearts
Releasing they’re fragrant perfume
Wafting through bejewelled meadow
And varied thicket
After the sun has pushed away
The sleepy moon
.
Dappled mottled paper winged ladies
Dance a colour flashing
Delicate ballet
As the perky blackbird forages
And field mice venture from they’re cosy nest
In field and hay
.
The expanding day breathes afresh
The lush evergreen abounds as gems
From creations open treasure chest.
.
Peter Dome©2020.
snowflakes pristine white
bejewelled with red berries
holly wears her crown
1 / 10 / 2021.
The Haunting Of A Broken Spirit And Beleaguered Soul.
.
Her pricing haunting blood shocked eyes
Reflect her heavy rain cloud acid corroded heart
And spirit broken beleaguered soul
Although in the summer of her blossoming youth
She aged beyond her tender gifted years
Life has took it’s scourging toll
And she can no longer hold back
Her floods of painful tears
.
The bombshell blast that devastated and destroyed her life
Left her shell shocked unable to piece together
The shards and carnage left behind
Her dreams have turned into nightmares
Her bed but a bed of nails her broken spirit tied to the mast
She once dreamed of idle lush green bejewelled meadows
But now dwells in a mine field in total darkness
And with every breathe and step she takes
She feels the blast
.
Snared and tangled in a cobweb
The more she riddles the more she's tangled
Her hapless struggle is all in vane
She stands on the ege of oblivion
And welcomes an end to her bitter anguish and pain.
.
Peter Dome©2021.
Beauty So Profound.
.
Her undying sincere love for her special one
Blossomed and flourished like fragrant roses
Every single blessed day
As she floated among heavens bejewelled garden
Showing her heartfelt devotion and appreciation
With happy contented illuminated soul
Affectionately in so many varied ways
.
With the profound beauty of a celestial being
A rare colourful bird of paradise
The brightest star shining in the sky
He melted as he saw a glorious sunrise
Deep within her beguiling
Mesmerizing smilingBeauty So Proufound eyes
.
With hearts eclipsed
And kindred souls as one
They danced trough the rain
And made love under a naked sky
And warm smiling sun
.
Emotions flowed between them
Like a tireless sea
For this love was ordained by devine providence
And from birth meant to be.
.
Peter Dome©2021.
I think I’m going to troll the Queen today
She’s social media savvy just like me
For far too long I’ve let her have her sway
Her coach, her stamp, her coin and all for free.
No need to scale the royal palace gates
Or sit upon her queen-size cotton sheets
I’ll catch her in the way they say she hates
Some spit and spiteful slipped between her Tweets.
She rules the land, I rule the internet
Upon our heads two versions of a crown;
Hers bejewelled with empire’s ruby sweat,
Mine anonymous. Thumbs. All pointing down.
I didn’t use to be this way. I wasn’t vexed.
I blame the Daily Mail. I’ll shred them next.
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