Best Cinnamon Bark Poems
Olive’s Cinnamon Bark
It took her some while to sense the meaning of feeling good in her skin
Her mirror her prism her mosaic glass and the mist on the crystal of time
At first it had appeared to project a tarnished reflection of yesteryear’s
Cinnamon Bark of Youth
A silver hair dropping its flair onto laughter lines and sorrow grooves
The imager an hour glass of pleaded messages to tempt with gloss and mask
To stifle the miracle silken touch with unkind uncalled for varnished perplexion’s
Olive Shine of Middle Age
Still a child at heart tanned by weather of challenges growth blissfully wild
Perception perspective’s inclusion recovered beauty never lost but adorned
With garnished collection of scent’s senses and unspoken images to become
Acorns of Seniority
27 March 2018
The wind is crisp when clouds cover the
sun, what passes for warm when clouds
disappear.
Great oak trees, maple and elm, in full
bare-branched display, before the bud.
Red norway pine, just outside my window,
enrobed in rich, cinnamon bark,
still smiles with long green needles,
bristling with resin-dipped cones.
A great fascination I pursue, binoculars in
tow, discovering many-generational
squirrel nests, high in the trees; twigs,
paper refuse, any and all acquired detritus,
salvaged to create beautiful sanctuaries, to
call home-
I'm
Truly
Envious
04/26/14
© All Rights Reserved
Flower power
“If you’re going to
San Francisco be sure to
wear a flower
in your hair”
long and shaggy
shagged longing wild
And to Berlin or
Paris for that
matter to dream to
meet a girl and more
under the fountain
The “Fountainhead”
on your mind
“Atlas shrugging”
all the weight of
established rigour
tremors oscillations
generational discord
transmitted juxtaposed
agonising opposition
Budding opening
freedom harmony
erect and upright
subconscious conscience
That girl with
curvy bottom and more
outer beauty inner fire
no curve balls
simply passion
adventure living
loving one in all
Embraces soaking
wet the moment
living on for now
for past and memories
intertwining venture
What is
what is coming
what was to come
appeared enlightened
what did not happen
withers lingers
explodes from
Venus-mangoed delta
reappears in wetlands
of pruned and rooting
ecstasy high rising climax
It matters not
if cobbled streets
descended from Montmartre
or mountains climbed
in open spaces putting
petting lips and heartbeats
openings and new
beginnings novel closure
It matters little great
deaths not so petite
at times of passion
'enlived' 'enstoried'
restoried recomposed
narrated and retold
episodic dedication
Floral bouquets
wild herbs and spices
arrangements
derangements
cinnamon bark on
your underbellies senses
Gathered over time
reflections longing
hope pragmatic
bold appeasement
ceasefires dynamic
bonfires bonne fires
static momentary
life and for the
living levitating
lovers
You are not going
to Paris all that
often any longer
but the scent free
spirit erotic flowers
frisson crescendo
warm hearted climax
exhaustion images
Is there in you hair
still shaggy longing
seduction floating
coming together
Is there in
your path’s ways
Is there in
your dreams
...is the one which speaks to me at the time
written with heart blood and passion
straight from a questioning soul
cinnamon bark and a core full of feeling
lavender fragrance thistles and roses
moon spoons and day light
a drop of defeat and fears from the nib
quill of compassion and meaning
fountain of pleasure and joy
when I write I am one with myself
critical emotive rational and honest
demons contained and spirit contained
when I do not express myself on pages
I feel empty and void lost and unbalanced
like a tree with no roots and no seeds
if a reader gains a bit from my writing
that is a bonus and extra reward
an artwork in progress and script
I am my poems and they shelter me
every single one the best I can do
any time any place and enough
13th June 2020
Her words were mumbled unprovoked and put him through the grinder
minced they were tearing apart they hurt like a dagger so he finally knew
where his heart was dismembered as it stood still one sentence then silence
No stream no consciousness emotion arrested a world destroyed broken shattered
He picked up the pieces the fragments shards of an ugly mosaic coloured in black
The cutting edge of glass penetrated into frozen blood in icy veins turning tattooing
engraving the twisted knife chopping torturing where passion kindness love
had once been the messenger grinning at the grisly gristle ground to the core
With surgical precision her scalpel incised at the flesh scarred in a flash razor
wire ligatures asphyxiating suffocating mortal wounded lost mindless soul
Denervation ensured neurochemical transmitters flowing into nothing a wide open
schism fissures fission exploding with nowhere to venture a road not yet travelled
Blessed in disguise of disaster her words grew into an unlikely story of hope of
a mixture of memories retold new pathways narration novel meaning of words
No more mill stone weighing the rope round the severed necklace of horror
he found undreamt off passion with a new soulmate and lover a poet tree in motion
Weaving kindness now sensual emotional reason scribed on paper fantasy clouds
written on dreams healing momentum of moments nights and cinnamon bark
their sizzling skins their touches feelings new found beauty make love and make
loving and making love with words and with lived meaning worthwhile again
16th June 2016
Island of fantasy
No swim wear on Bikini Island after all those testing years
waiting for the hidden radiance to…stop this is reality
I need to escape from where into what or do I when
one flash and blip in the history of time and my projections…
So here it is the nude beach stripped from another reality
granting a moment here or then stranded in magic another truth
in the loops and coconuts circuiting in the mind grapes hanging low
sweet and sour Me Robin’s son Friday or not…forever and another splendour
Essence food and shelter in abundance too much too plenty so
I’d rather bring a friend my lover soul-mate curvaceous sparkling
inspiration expiration joined in motion rhythm rhyme sequential
horizontal upright teasing poet tree in motion exploding fusing solitude
Cinnamon bark and musky flavour salt of the ocean chilli peppers
soul on soul skin on skin soul on skin intermingling penetration
of ideas creation words artistic dependent independent work in progress
giving taking heading truthful tongues lips balsam for the sun and tanning life
Books and poetry are also intimate wise companions mentors faithful fellow friendly
fire water earth and aerial dreams conjectures built up climax rest regeneration
and I suppose we like to write our own of rainbows thunder lightning comets
starlight moonshine distant proximity close by far away lands in kindness loving
Lotus flowers in perfusion fragrant storms meditating torrents stillness for
the mediation stories lived experience speaking hearing narrative exploration
where they rest on beauty interwoven follicles frolicking whims of nature nurtures
exude petals inner peace and outer seminal gentle epitome of sensual wisdom reason
But wait...why search on other ocean’s tide lines why run away from what there is
the island carol coral reefs and rainy forest dew in sunshine sweet perfume of life...
the envelope of brightness togetherness carnal mingling intellectual fulfilment
is here right here when we beam out from fantasy and run from insular fight or flight
06th June 2016
Universal Dialogue
Tears from fears to cheers
‘you are the moonlight
and cinnamon bark
incense and citrus peel
in your intimate places.’
(Tai)
‘I am simply a reflection
of your sun in me my places
are your places
the earth and your soil
is spinning caressing
touching fire and water
inside and out and
in between the stars
thank you Sun-God
for shining your light
and her light into
my heart and my soul’
(Kai)
Moonlight and sunlight
and two dedicated followers
of Taikaiweanism reaching
for the stars and beyond
and still going strong
28th July 2016
Three Stanzas - Three Only
sponsored by 'Broken Wings'
From cinnamon bark
fresh amber of ocean’s scent
conveys musk’s resin
Your coast perfuses my shore
A gem wet and wild again
25th June 2017
written for contest:
'My Lover's Scent'
... she had nothing much to give as she searched her pockets for gratitude, selfless gifts had made her journey so much easier than she could have ever longed for, invaluable presents from a passionate heart and she looked at the inscription in the ageing tree of her childhood an arrow of love on the cinnamon bark of tomorrow that always looked to become a distant past, a couple of bows tied around the trunk, now faded and torn beyond recognition, all that was left was words of kindness, a sincere apology and farewell to becoming an aspiration beyond her wildest dreams ...
my tree of kind life
planted roots of compassion
you gave me your wings
out of the blue you arrived
not just the usual winter blues
more like permafrost with icicles
piercing all colour out of me
until everything was black
the dogs on my shoulder
a pack of wild hounds
haunting me down
growling chewing digesting
before there was no more prey
to be sucked out of my life
one of them in particular
showed no mercy but wore
the face of my ex a terrier
and I was the rat in my nightmare
a silent movie paused on its reel
clockwork arrested in agony
but death refused the call for
endless loops would not retreat
out of nowhere a petite woman arrived
in an aquamarine dress with whistles
and bells on her outfit
she led me to a cerulean sofa
took off my charcoal garments
undressed what was to become
she blew kisses and smiles
onto my naked skin and painted
flowers of hope in magenta and crimson
with honeydew stems and forest green shoots
the hole changed to whole in split seconds
of passion kindness compassion and love
lust for life if you want and hollowed depression
out of the blue morphed from beneath our moans
a young soulmate with a dolphin earring
who also bore some tattoos on her skin
but she calls it cinnamon bark
now we howl with the wolves
in tune with stellar composure
more than once in a blue moon
23th May 2020
moist cinnamon bark
infused fragrance levitates -
monsoon descends time
rice fields lie flooded
draft windswept change into roots -
rise to the challenge
tea leaves take shelter
swell burgeoning impatience -
cusp spring’s prophesies
seasons scent chances
tease taste bud’s fluid advance -
crow scares wet footing
22th May 2020
she had only asked him to come in for a cup of hot strong coffee
an innocent gesture in her mind maybe an interesting exchange
of thoughts on philosophical matters like love death and existence
yet once they had smoked a first cigarette the smoke clouds parted
like sea waters of Yam Suph in the form of spiritual enlightenment
candles flickered and incense filled the room with sandalwood and musk
serenity and pheromones diffused hardship fear loneliness and inhibition
passionate silence of words merged with quivering lips in fervorous action
and the pulse of their hearts raced in crescendo surely missing a few beats
velvet skin like cinnamon bark feverishly exposed unlimited desire
an immaculate conception of wisdom arose from instantaneous Karma
and twenty years later they still need no picture guide on how to make love
"the clouds parted like the pursed lips of desire" and that meant the world
My dear Isabel,
The days have become shorter, the chill bites the air and as I'm walking back through the apple trees, I think of that time the curve of your hip leaned against the cinnamon bark and with your book held so close, I felt a pang of envy.
---------
Dearest Isabel,
In a few days I leave Bermuda
and meet you in the heart of
the garden, where I am happiest
loving you among the daisies
and the roses in your hair
The air is dull until I kiss those
sweet lips beneath star by star
in the sapphire sky
----------
Dearest Isabel,
I'm sitting between tables,
staring at the hours split apart
the shadow-wrinkled light,
I don't care for the mysteries
on these walls, or the cold
meal on my plate, or the visitors
that have come and gone
I miss you beyond anything
----------
Dear Isabel,
This warm orange breeze caught my attention and changed my thought, to remember the most wonderful day where I was sitting in the shade of the creek tree and your heart trailed along on water, sparkled like a star had fallen—I was in love
----------
Dearest Isabel,
Everything pulsing outside this window reminds me of you. When I hear the wind whispering along shutters and verandas, the cloths on cafe tables, I think of autumn through your hair, envision your glistening pearl skin below the moon.
----------
My dear Isabel,
I find your shadow along
the mist and dust,
anywhere I pause
I think of you between doorways,
windows, damp with rain
and when I lean beside this bridge,
I feel my heart plunging,
my soul is a wave
you catch with your arms
----------
I am mad with love
for a girl named Isabel...
my first, my last... breath
----------
Flor do meu coração,
I will leave nothing unsaid,
for even half a portion of your love,
I will do battle—
I will be triumphant
as long as I feel you in my veins
and know that the glory of your
heartbeat will lead me home to you
Yours, always
Jose
In perfect rhythm they coupled softened rhymes
Yet they did not adhere to the script and chapter
This will be over in a flash the onlookers assured
You are lacking staying power and our approval
Self appointed hypocrits
Ignorant pitiless voyeurs
Waiting for the downfall
Metaphors personified
Projection of arrogance
Many moons have now passed and blessed the union
Not a day without the sweet scent of cinnamon bark
Flowers of lavender and wild herbs on their passion
When they undress the secret potion of compassion
Breathing exultations of joy
Inhaling fragrance of roses
Persimmon sucked into joy
Ambrosia seeding in repose
Settling intimate passage
As they drink nectar from amphora’s safe vessels
Imbibe on priceless respect and infinite promise
They renew their vows and turned with the tides
Floodgates cascading crescendos of sensual flow
I love you forever my cherub and angel
Heavens have opened in mango delight
My nib dips deep in your fountain forever
Spilled ink finds poetry in joined motion
I will cherish you again and again ever more
24th February 2020
¨being mistook we burnt the books
thoughts rest, we dwell in our heart’s nest
touched by spirits, our body shook
by God’s light blest as we undressed¨
book burning had always been quite the passion
of the powerful agencies of evil dictatorship
the truth was dangerous after all for the uninitiated
Martin Luther Erich Maria Remarque Bertold Brecht
Heinrich Heine Karl Marx The Bible and The Kama Sutra
all those dirty words filthy cognition and explicit pictures
guides to galaxies of pleasure fulfilment and joy
and yet thoughts are difficult to ban control and extinguish
undressed clarity and nudity liberate body and soul
as God made me I shall venture his path while the snake
can devour the apple as long I explore fig jam and delight
touched by Higher power and spiritual exuberance
a cigar does not need to remain a cigar when angels
from heaven cheer riding on the chariot’s cherry
and the emperor is left without clothes and no force
our nest is feathered with cinnamon bark of experience
and yet we play like innocent partner in nubile undress
when night casts its dormant spell and already exhausted
we relight our fire guided only by transcendent stardust
and the touch of all touches in our mutual embrace
a metamorphosis in deed and emotion and only God knows