Best Cloaking Poems
In the landscape
of melancholy,
where arctic
heartbeats linger,
I long for withered
willows to blossom
like speckled
diamond petals,
while your crystalline
silhouette strolls
through tangled tunnels
of my weathered mind.
And I question
the highest choir
orchestrating
ethereal anthems:
What if there’s no right key
to harmonize this
undying yearning?
What if love had a voice?
Would it be an
echo of melting snow—
thawing glacier hearts
to stream upon
silver lakes,
mirroring drifting
clouds of memories
that drizzle
rose-tinted flakes?
There, the crisp
air whispers
magical tales
chauffeured in
cashmere cadence.
But, like the golden
tendrils of
winter jasmine,
my fingers
stretch beyond
fogs of frozen rainbows,
sketching
sweet-scented dreams
across skies
in porcelain pigments,
as your voice
glimmers and
glows amidst
poetic pearls
resting on
your lyrical lips,
shifting through
colors of the
seasonal breeze,
serenading
symphonies
for soulmates.
So let me
undress the
wintry wisps of vanilla,
cloaking the
citrine threads
of sunrise in your eyes,
listening to
the song of the
wind that shrouds
our unsung sonatas
when we were undone.
For you and I,
we are like
jewels in the azure,
ruminating in rhymes,
quilted in a
secluded igloo,
as chickadees
of the night
chirp in sync
with the moon,
mimicking hymns
from the
hypnotic lyre of Orpheus,
to which Eurydice waltzed,
even the waning stars
would unravel
a sequined staircase
to the gardens
above the highest spheres.
For I would die
a million
deaths to
rewind and replay
the dulcet chorus
of this
immortal romance.
I am like an avalanche slithering in shivering angst,
free-falling into an abyss of an aching era,
where luminous lakes reflect pixelated regrets,
for time throws my canvas into splitting helplessness,
and mind plays tricks in aimless frequency,
framing toneless tenors within paralyzed psyche,
pushing and pulling ivory strings of my ebony heart.
Now I’m dwelling in the chaotic caves of a calculative carnivore,
unable to grasp the lunar light that envelopes forsaken fields,
while crooning caged memories, like a pensive nightingale,
pondering, would the moon ever untangle these starless thoughts?
Or was it written on the wailing walls of melancholic museums~
that I was meant to drown in dizzying darkness?
I’ll rest my pen in a glass casket of equations~
cloaking this crippled conscience from seeing beyond vague visions,
detached from kohl eyes, eager to steal my voice,
as I keep sinking in black and white polarity,
pausing curative prose in screeching silence.
A harsh wind bites.
The signals are there for those
who understand; those who can
read the fauna and flora like a map.
Navigating through the forest…
through life.
Acorns are being stored under a
red carpet.
Shards of light pierce through
deciduous windows.
Evergreens wrap themselves
in a nice warm coat.
The snow arrives on iridescent
wings, stretching it’s arms and
cloaking all in sight.
A silence creeps in, it’s heart
slows to a single beat of a
dying honey bee…
© 7/12/2014
Somewhere between fallen flares
of an untouchable phoenix~
and the nostalgic red of crimson horizons,
I feel the amethyst embers of longing
illuminate rambling roses
that mourn within my hibiscus heart.
O beloved Love,
I long to be your tulip twilight
adorned with unfading mauve haze,
where green-gold scribbles of sunset
erase interlaced flaws,
to harbor blue-black mists
twirling above tides of tainted topaz…
and I will thrive amidst
storms of insecurities,
as the Swarovski Horse of Poseidon,
crystallized in resilient silver,
gleaming in glowing grace,
beyond dews of darkness,
shifting the aroma of pomegranate’s kiss.
There, peonies of peace
feast upon decadent delicacies
in the barren garden ~
flourishing with jilted jasmines.
I wonder, will these metaphors
woven across my canvas in perfumed ink,
speak the songs of my splintered spirit?
For the moon no longer sings
the melody of my soul,
and I refuse to choreograph
a diabolical dance for resentful ravens,
collecting twigs from tortured trees,
as the crescent smile
wanes into neon nothingness.
Yet while the witching hour beckons
skeletal remnants to rise
as celestial ashes,
I go insane, lose my incandescent light
that glistens in opalescent hues,
leaving my quill to suffocate in solitude,
unable to grasp the musical muse,
to stitch sorrowful sonnets
with seething synonyms.
O stringed sapphires
sailing above the meadow of melancholy,
forgive this coffin curse ~
it holds carvings of a corpse bride,
aching to be seen beyond the kohl shawl~
cloaking the frost-glazed silhouette,
weeping woeful elegies
while slumbering in the
amorous arms of Orpheus,
for in your absence, I cannot breathe,
and sleep screams
like a long-forgotten miracle,
needing an oracle to
alchemize a soothing potion…
So lay me down in a bed
of deep daffodils and thorns,
watch me plead for merciful rain,
to free obsidian tears of terror,
while my psyche bleeds
grammatical mistakes.
I am forever trapped in tremors of agony,
unable to reopen galactic gates
of euphoric escape,
so tonight I’ll let the torrents of torment
embrace inked insanity…
Chirpy birds disturb my deep sleep.
Sky pastels reflect in a somber ashen tinge.
Sun seems to be lost in a floating mist,
cloaking wet slates and chimney smoke.
As lamp lights reflect upon puddles,
poured into uneven pavement slabs,
it seems like an abundance of angels,
wept like irritated insomniacs overnight.
In the backdrop of contemplation,
a trash truck thunders and plunders,
with boisterous waste collectors,
wheeling bins into its hungry mouth.
Sky paints in an apocalypse aura.
Mind is intrigued - pondering,
if only it wasn't just palpable garbage,
that was taken away and forgotten.
The sky sings soprano,
spellbound by supernova flares,
and I sigh ~ veiled in vengeance ~
pursuing cosmic conquest,
hauntingly unafraid.
I feed the vortex with vicious verses,
bleeding into leading winds,
salt-glazed passion gripping my pulse
as light rests along
midribs of merciful emerald,
feathers blooming into blue-moon rarity,
cloaking the cadence of my soul
when my heart grows heavy with its hurt.
I remain ... starved ...
of sensuous sunlight ~
to photosynthesize my sphinx spirit,
to chlorophyll my
femme-fatale fragrance,
vowing an oath to my muse:
the steady twigs of living cosmos,
the glistening gardens
spilling across the guardians of galaxies,
kissing inked essence with searing sparks
that awaken my desire to dance
through nocturnal night
into dreaming dawns ~
an indomitable storm,
too ferocious
for cynical hands to worship.
Still I stand ~ shameless ~
at the altar of adoration,
where love becomes a painted promise
defining the delicacy of my design.
But why does it feel like a divine curse
to perceive the tremors of time,
to taste the tears of unseen rain,
as empathy drains the empyrean
from an enlightened intellect,
and telepathic twilight trembles,
breathless ~ blazed ~ baptized ~
beneath the weight
I hold within my veins ~
for I feel every ray of darkness
d e e p e r
than your dusk could ever behold…
O blue-rose, ethereal warmth,
I am the chosen feeler,
the zealous healer
of wayward wanderers,
seducing the quivering thorns
of unquenched silence.
I heed what the lips
of the eyes cannot speak.
I rise fully awake
within this celestial transformation,
where this fervent force
stays dangerously unconcerned…
Painting You
Before painting, I first sketch you
In my mind’s eye…To compose
The lines, shapes, shadows and lights,
That work altogether to form a semblant sight
Of you for any relative, friend or acquaintance…
Next, I embrace the required courage
To face the blank canvas; to dip my brush
In sublime tones for my wild orchid wishes,
Wanting to stroke across the heavens
For reflecting starlights bright,
Which I’ll situate to split the darker places
Where the inks bleed and branch out
Around you, smudging your purest colors…
That I endeavor to recover
When illness tries to smother
You with a viridescent blanket for on-going days;
Cloaking the glance of your azure blue eyes;
Pulling gray and white from your skull
To streak through your forest brown hair;
Rushing flag red moments to your cheeks
When you growl, “No. Don’t—“ when I
Try any way to help you through the fevers
That hang dredged plum-violet clouds over
The sofa — away — where you stay sleeping…
While I sit crimson awake worrying,
Watching you breathe…And asking
Through faith’s golden prayers for your healing;
For our holy Lord to send some ministering angels
— With their glistening opaline feathered wings;
Who side by side, place hands on you ~ veiling
My first view of prayers’ answers coming true;
Lifting me to a bloom of rosebud gratitude.
I paint you never far.
I paint your ocean blue eyes opening.
I paint you always beside me in a sandcastle brown.
I dapple the air over us an effervescent pink.
I paint your prism presence close.
I paint your mid-night’s Arora Borealis dancing hues.
Our love is a stippled, rolling color wheel
Of our linked diamond destinies: journeying
Together on amber roads under sapphire skies.
—————————————————
(c) sally young eslingwe 10/17-18/2023
Glory to God…
Just like dark slowly cloaking the land
love slips in softly unfolding like a bud.
Once in a heart it expands filling it full
re-awaking those long forgotten emotions.
Tinting all in glorious technic colours
casting a warm glow that courses
though the veins pulsing strongly
bringing vitality and sense of eagerness.
Touching all those who cross its path
spreading peace and contentment.
Bask in its light and give it full rein
and enjoy all that comes in its wake.
Tangerine sunset
sinks below the horizon.
Willow tree whispers
welcoming blue velvet sky,
cloaking us with diamond light.
05~28~16
Governess of endless flowing tides
Ancient Orb that mystifies
Dusty ochre, bright hot white
Cycling and glowing with borrowed light
Cratered desolate dusty reflector,
Yet invoking your own haunting specter
Revealing all when heavily laden
Ebony cloaking when waning maiden
Luminous shafts caress and bathe
The supple skin of lover’s raves
Wondrous wishing talisman bold
Wide-eyed children cup and hold
Your gleaming form within outstretched hands
All tiny grains of billowing sand
Haunting compass; true and right
For countless seaman through the night
Ageless past and endless tomorrows
Stalwart celestial illuminations borrowed
Rest well within your firmament high
From darkest sable to lapis lazuli
Grace us again in coming night
With opaque splashes
Of
Perfect
Moonlight
I n v i s i b l e threads,
a mystical m i r a g e,
binding the silhouette of the sky
to the
skin of cinnamon sequels
in the deep blue chakra
that sees beyond
illusive clouds,
carrying rainbow roses
and thornless buds
quenched with jasmine rain.
Yet I remain engrossed
in the rising haze from cornea rivers,
facing the sun
amidst silenced stones,
counting unwept
diamonds that ebb and flow
through the pool of peace lilies,
and violet vapors,
veiled in violin breeze,
ricocheting like
the h e a t
of throbbing heartbeats…
Remember,
I taste the sundrops
you feel in solitude,
I’ve been listening to
your e y e s ~
stories spun from luminous lies,
pain streaming behind saffron smiles,
unrolling polaroids of angst
through the lens of life,
while the
gossamer gold of gloaming
mirrors the poem
between your sore sighs,
like dilating daisies
in the heart of the midnight iris…
And through your pupils,
I’ve found the reason
to rhyme~
bleeding pleas of love
with whimsical words,
dusted with periwinkle,
glazed with crystals,
amidst the gusts of grief
cloaking your conscience,
when wintry woes
suffocate your cashmere spirit.
But I still
am an origami enigma,
sleepwalking in silence,
aching to reach the chandelier cinders
flickering above~
pillows of patience…
This I write not to the
crestfallen Luna,
but to the galaxies
twirling as moon-tulips
above lashes dusted with liquid lilac,
as I am a misplaced metaphor,
etched with empathy,
kohl tears on petals,
pricking fragile fingers,
like thistles of time…
I feel beyond what I breathe
and I see hidden hues,
for in my eyes~
there is no need for poetic phrases
when soul is tied to
the strings of immortal blossoms
in your garden of pristine petunias
l a c e d with
unbreakable vows…
The leaves have done their dance and settled on the ground, the brilliance of their foliage gone, all that's left is brown.
Their corpses crisp and crusty cloaking the earth, fragrant and musty, at every home and hearth.
The birds have flown south on migratory wings, no chickadees, house wrens or sparrow sings. It's silent with out their chorus, the harmonies gone, such stillness in the forest, especially at dawn.
The trees stark and bare warn that winter is encroaching, soon to be blanketed in ice and snow, as the season is quickly approaching.
Written: May 2nd, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Quixotic quest quiddity
As dusk sapidity emerges,
Casting a shadow
Weeping waves smash
in foamy scatters;
seraphic strophic sojourn
groans in a gossamer gaunt
Arid shadows fade.
In a hazy blur,
emptiness lingers.
Shorebirds console each other.
in epicedes of
velvety whispers
and elusive sighs.
Horizon amid
cinereous graffiti of
tear-stained threnody and
raven blooms.
It breaks my heart, too
with crimson, auric, and
plum, plum, purple wings,
why haven't you
returned
to me in spring?
to our moon-smeared love
& diaphanous elixir
amethyst kisses of
emerald ablaze,
spiraling in seductive
sapphire scarlet sounds,
Your love, a fiery flow
Flames aflame,
with gemstones aglow.
Dark ideas settle in
my head is akin to
a tombstone,
Obstructing—my judgment
early hours are lost
in the fog,
their significance dimmed
I succumb to allure
of nightfall and
I shut my eyes.
Acquiesce to inquiry
in heaven, each flower
boasts a mirror
to inveigle into each valley,
Beneath a sky of
countless clouds;
quaint lodge stands out,
surrounded
by a myriad of
shimmering ponds
capture a vast expanse
of coastlines.
Uncharted shores,
where vessels veered
toward vast seas,
untrodden by any praxis
As twilight falls,
coastlines curve in a crescendo
across horizon.
Cloaking hill peaks in mist.
loquacious verbosity
recognized in wisdom
beyond spectrum of
circumlocution.
In a flurry of
fading flowers,
faith-filled fields, &
fugacious felicity.
Snare drum rotunda
somberly chimes
within a forest,
Its dulcet echos rhyme.
We've wandered down
curious trails
basking in the sun
warm embrace;
In depths of shadows,
We've sought with fear,
an ambient arena,
vast and near.
Unveiling a shore infinite,
In an abyss where
every heart resides.
With its boundless skies
Dawn
sunshine, daybreak
morning, illuminating, awakening
brightness, noontime, sunrise, moonrise
gloaming, enveloping, cloaking
nightfall, darkness
Dusk
Date written: 07/18/2020
The truth is, I'm afraid of most everything.
From the beautiful forests, cloaking hungry beasts.
Every wave of the ocean din harbors a cold dorsal fin...
With my name engraved on it.
The mountains-and all the hidden fissures
, every step a potential hellish frozen death.
I'm afraid of big cities with all its bag pipe faces.
Blitzing back and forth from noise to noise-
A million dirty children-a half a million broken toys.
I'm afraid of small towns-and all the earthy smiles.
Hiding in plain sight, their filthy six-fingered lies.
I'm afraid of the finality of graveyards...
Rows of forgotten marble splashed with pigeon droppings.
I'm afraid of old age-as signs of frailty are starting to mount.
I'm afraid of the lost people of the iPhone occult.
Blank faces shuffling along like short-circuited robots.
I'm afraid of the heartless turbine called change.
The lengthy lives of predators
The brief flash of beauty
Pristine waters that suddenly turn murky.
Mayhem always stalking beauty
The brevity of pollinators.
I'm afraid of love tossed so casually aside.
Like a pair of city sneakers wrapped around a country wire.
I'm afraid of that late-night phone ring.
That chimes, that your life will never be the same.
I'm afraid of the snotty ogre in the mirror-that they call a wasted life.
I'm afraid there is no God at the end of the line.
I'm afraid of boxcar graffiti
I'm afraid of dying but not death
I'm afraid of the mirror so I turn the other cheek.