Best Hieroglyphic Poems
In the middle of the night,
when the butterflies
dance to the moon's song,
I create constellations
with the map of my soul,
allowing astral lights
across feathery skies
to guide my chrysalis
heart back to an avenue
of cosmic reveries.
I lay in a bed of
delicate petals,
and dream-catchers
designed in emerald
swallowtails.
They remind me
of how I found my home
in the gossamer warmth
of your lunar
struck presence.
And when sirens echo,
across silent seas,
distant muse ebb and
flow symphonies of
mystical mermaids-
grieving at the
outskirts of
bioluminescent shores.
For in your absence,
I long to hear your voice,
as the crystal clear
crescent glimmers,
amidst the fragile truth,
floating above
a flurry of glass-winged
jitters, that camouflage
with hypnotic tales
lost in the air.
Tonight I’ll lock
my pollen dusted
dreams in slumberland..
where peacock pansies
interwoven with
pastel peonies,
would be tucked
beneath sweet
scented sheets..
Your love is the
perennial blanket
to all my
nocturnal fears,
as hieroglyphic runes
of life rhapsodize
a lyrical elixir for the
shifting spheres,
whilst change is cloaked
in mellifluous hues,
unraveling a choir
of nature,
orchestrating a
celestial chorus-
to illustrate
cloudless mornings.
Remember Me
Cold wet coastal today
I escaped
Sat myself behind a sanctuary
The rain beating rhythms
On window panes
Hot coffee and brandy
Warm inside The Athena Café
Radio spends its missed tuning
Hissing tinny tunes
Love songs
Of losing
Love songs of having
Love sings
Of wanting
Blank the grey sky
Flattering dreaming thoughts meander
On emotions wandering
Focus themselves
With photographic memories
I see
The smile
White satin dressed
Curls of auburn red
All I fell for
All I lived for
My Princess
Her crown tilted
The mischievous angels
Of her
I sigh
As my fingers remember
They once ran themselves
Through your hair
As my lips in accord
Re-taste the peach
Of kisses
I once knew
Sometime so long ago
I can hear your voice
Silent echo
A touch in my soul
Sentient it is
Hieroglyphic speaks
Reverberating something
Deep and known
My eyes replay moments
Of vague tactile loving
These trespasses
And these memories wishing
Batter at some-where’s
Deeping
Inside of me
Aching
Longing
Word forms swirl
In printed pages of you
And send messages of distance
So far from me
So far
From you
To a horizon which is
Part of me
Out into grey meridians
My heart travels
While my seconds record
The splitter and splatter
Of rain on the window pane
Looking back at me
With your reflection
Another cigarette
My coffee cold
And nothing but froth
The heat of my brandy
Matches the twists of floating smoke
Sends my thoughts out riding point
To the cavalry of clouds
With the banner of love
Rides wing-ed horses
With fire on their hooves
Lifts all this nescient knowing
Rushes headlong
To you
Tiny rippled pools
Drop on the sheen
Dark colours anew
Of rain fall continues
One more coffee
No more brandy
Time to leave slowly
And some how find an end
For this poetry
Find a way to Morse code my heart
Out into expansive skies
And wrap my arms
Around you
I remember the home
Of holding you
The rain has stopped
As I paddled the river Nile
I met a monstrous crocodile.
She smiled at me enticingly.
I smiled deferentially.
Through large white teeth to me she said,
"I want you in my river bed."
"We are not acquainted enough
for such intimate, tasteless stuff,"
I cried. A hippopotamus
opined, "Hey, we're amphibious.
We're inclined to romp through marshes;
come, let's crush some reedy rushes."
I paddled hard away. The Nile
now swirled by rapidly awhile
to the sea. There where its two brinks
grow apart it flows past a sphinx
who lies prone and thinks endlessly
deep thoughts about eternity.
For eons and eons his mind
thought thoughts about how to unbind
gravity from mentality
throughout universality,
that we might freely float;
no more need to paddle my boat.
Unfortunately, he has no gumption
to follow his least assumption;
but we do chat on fluently
of, to wit, stuff way beyond me
like hieroglyphic-ally writ
papyri. When he will not quit
I wander alone to a tomb
where lies Cleopatra, of whom
each schoolgirl knows; how her last gasp
came as she clasped to breast her asp.
Grasp that story's significance
twixt geometry class and dance.
Whilst she patronymic-ally
reigned, a most royal Ptolemy;
she told Marc, "My new last 'nym' now'll
be 'Anthony'." This, post her roll
out, quite nude, from Julius' rug.
His offer of sex met her mere shrug.
I stood amid a pyramid
or three and pondered where they hid,
these pharaohs, all their treasury.
Was power or mere pleasury
their true architectural plan?
To ever tell, no pharaoh can.
These writs I write as my boat drifts
midst original hieroglyphs
through the Mediterranean.
I don't need a librarian
to see, no sociology
compares to Egyptology.
Breathe
When the night claims you like a wayward leaf of old
and it takes you to the caves where anything turns gold.
You don't ask any questions and you don't dare breathe.
You just follow her, like a light weight tumbled weed.
Down the passages of dark, down the staircase of rune
every step a little deeper than the crevices of moon,
You can almost taste the air, on your tonguing clepe.
You can down the stars of heaven in one single leap.
Taking you by the waist it shall dance you through
the elixir of happiness when your feeling down n' blue.
You just thank the Lord for the magic of this gift.
All you need is skin n' eyes to cross her lowly rift.
When night claims you like a wayward leaf of old
and takes you to her caves, all etched with gold.
Don't ask her any questions just go ahead breathe.
No, don't ask her anything at all, just breathe,
yes, breathe...
How your skin intermingles and your words interweave
as your thoughts become one and your desires are seen!
You don’t have the answers for the feelings within.
You are so excited and your tension subsides as you breathe.
The glow on the walls fulfills the dark.
The hieroglyphic staircase reforms at once.
The air is refreshing and you can savor the breeze.
The stars are the luminaires that showcase what’s achieved.
The hyperactivity dances your feet.
A prescription of joy embraced so easily.
The Almighty God had given wisdom matured.
All-inclusive is the mind and you intuitive.
The clamor of night is attentive.
It takes your knowledge to the trees
where you lay awake awaiting.
Don’t question, just relax and breathe,
yes, believe…
____________________________________________|
Written for A Collaboration With Mystic Rose, Poem
Entitled: "Breathe" - Poetry Contest on January 05,
2015! Mystic Rose is the first four Quatrains
and "yes, breathe..." and Verlena S. Walker is the
second four Quatrains and "yes, believe..."
More so, for the total effect, read Mystic Rose
Quatrain once again because she is creator and
I am the collaborator .
I am lost in the heart of time and place
Stranded between the present and past
In my view are members of a civilized race
Whose slaves build stone pyramids to last
Hieroglyphics etched to record their history
Writings in symbolic language of inscriptions
In a complex allegorical system of mystery
Claimed to have been created by Egyptians
A hologram I witnessed scared me as a child
How did that blue woman get inside the ball
My imagination escaped and was running wild
In the Haunted Mansion ride she was so small
In three dimensions it was caused by laser light
But as a kid I couldn't have known how it was done
It succeeded in having the effect of causing fright
If I knew how it worked it would've spoiled the fun.
Now there is a hologram that you can actually touch
Using ultrasound waves that are traveling in air tracts.
It's called Ultra Haptics, and in the future will do much
To help with CT scans and dating Egyptian artifacts.
To see a hologram of Cleopatra would be stunning
I wonder if her hieroglyphic writing would give a clue
About the Queen known for her beauty and cunning.
Makes me wonder what else new technology can do.
>>>>>>>>>
OUTSIDE THE BOUNDS OF SISTER CECILIA
the best firecracker
otherworldly seven hues
hiss, cackle, kaboom
Yes, dear ones, I want to own a pen that produces perfect penmanship, the curlicue calligraphy that Sister Cecilia would have hated. Each color, as my mood dictates would jettison from my mind to paper as a musical note, with hieroglyphic fervor. In unity and uniqueness as my lyrical words ignite each heart…each pen imparts the idea that never ends, heart to heart, light and dark, dear poet.
breathless, eternal
wax that never defuses
its bittersweet light
I can hardly stop to cross the t’s and dot the i’s. You, dear loves, like stars grab on - you little prince(s)! You travel light with faeries and dragons light as silk and mighty as giants. We muse together through the galaxy and time. In Athens, we sit down a moment to hear Saint Paul say, “For in him we live and move and have our being. As some of your own poets have said, ‘We are his offspring.’”
baptism of seeds
in the only plot we know —
glorious setting
inner poet can’t contain
as we head out of the grave
Sincerely, as we begin our journey, it never ends — it goes on and on with friends. Sparks fly - serious, silly, frolicking, frenetic and holy.
let not ruler scowl -
repeat curlicues fifty
times to accomplish your dreams
11/30/2021
Haibun- With A Message
Sponsor: Charles Messina
R&R
Silently I contemplate
Secretly I desire your essence
Cardiff is another land, a far away shore
Absent from my lust, yet craving still
Drowning within my self, I lay myself down
And
Divesting my thoughts into the winds
Victory is surviving with only lingering pains
Hieroglyphic messages of undying love I leave
Even a Libra can not always balance the scales
Even a heart has only so many beats
Unfettered
Afternoon
Ocean breeze
Slowly blows
Through the trees,
Hieroglyphic
Spanish wind
Serenely goes
And leaves me
Salt air dry,
Ozone high,
Catholically,
Cathartically,
Light headed.
Creative Native, quite contemplative-
he draws on walls in ancient caves.
So Hieroglyphic speculative:
Cuneiform curses mark mummy graves.
On land the sand, the grains of Man-
exoplated, protective shells.
A last ballast, we're sinking fast;
step lively men, and hoist the sails!
The Tribe has grown and it has thrived-
(their drumbeats echo as if alive!)
We've lost our rudder, I wince and shudder,
and I have lost all will and drive...
No longer fond of the Amazon-
Jungle be damned; I wish 'twere gone!
Walking along the Tiber's River walls,
one discovers hieroglyphics
depicting images of Romans
engaging in battles; they seem
mythical warriors so appealing.
As legend goes, Romulus
became the first roman king,
he founded Rome once
an insignificant rural village;
in the shortest time,
it grew into a powerful city
that ruled the ancient world
with intimidation and atrocity.
Each hieroglyphic tells
a story of victory,
of defeat, of conquest,
of cruelty and dominion:
hear Julius Caesar
speak against his enemy
in the Roman Forum!
It's such a sorrowful echo of distrust;
hear the shouts of proud citizens
overtaken by anger and disgust...
even louder they would be after
his premeditated assassination!
Every empire old or new
has known its glory in full;
and Rome more than any
empire has excelled them all.
If those hieroglyphics tell
of its greatness and superiority,
they also should expose
the evil minds of some emperors:
like Caligula, Nero and Diocletian
who ruled with a steady iron hand.
Constantine's conversion
to Christianity brought harmony,
the inhumane slaughtering
of innocent Christians was halted.
Would this empire have survived
without its legions of mighty stronghold?
Hieroglyphics itched in triumphal arches,
temples and monuments attest:
that the rise to power takes
an ingenuity which begins
with a strategic concept.
Today a world government
is in its raw state, other
hieroglyphics will be carved,
and along with holograms,
one sees images beyond
imagination and belief.
Will humans leave
a testament of their
existence with
a science so brief?
Holograms and hieroglyphs
The whole weighs heavily
touched caressed lightly
brushed on feather canvass
granite marble marvellous papyrus
innocence rejuvenated
partial and impartial
Chiselled in and out
of comprehension angled
layered facets facts
subjective trueness
ciphered and deciphered
Snow flakes teardrops
ink on paper hailing crystals
pastel rainbows thunderbolts
and blind pitch black darkness
tell the story weathered lives
Freedom torrent lightening
anxious reproduction
wholesome holes concatenations
metaphoric mosaic translates
picturesque ‘holos’ trying to emerge
Vertex vortex on horizons
told untold forgotten
and beyond beheld
diagonal a-synchronicity
discovered spoken written
felt and never once complete
Lyric lasers beaming densely
condensation compromised
at the cutting edge of aural light
lacking graphic clarity
eluding synthesized illusion
Once we decipher unconventional
primal prismatic re-reflections
meanings life calligraphy
inscriptions narrative conceptions
we enclose and liberate
the hologram that seems to be
Infinite eternity of scripts
encrypted systems
webs of life’s distortions
fragmentation truth reality
paint the picture of
conflicting contradictions
making sense constructions
lithographic mystery
moulded into understanding
Holograms are limited to
the scope of three dimensions
tending mind and body soul
complementing contrasts
hollow narrow depth untold
Burrowed in words rational
irrational emotions rationale
defence deflections oppressed
repression incarceration
loose out transitional
transcriptions miss the point by far
the bigger picture yet emerging
uncertain clarity sculpted
in hieroglyphic excavation
Carving holy boundless beauty
with the fourth dimension
of subjective sense perception
and the changing timeless
flowing circuit circus artwork
in the making reading writing
on the imaginary wall of life
over and above the hologram
engraved in fallacies
arrests of real unreal reality and
strikes the balance never known
of what is and only seems to be
22th May 2016-05-22
Contest entered: Holograms and Hieroglyphs
Feed your goldfish before you leave
Love them as you love yourself
The bible tells us all fish are created equal
Some people prefer baby guppies
Because their mouths move slow and oval
They are smaller and talk in pantomime
Can breath underwater
And even look like one another all the time
Never throw small things in the toilet
Bony creatures can get stuck when flushing
Fish go better in a soup
Don't tell them that
Or add too much seasoning without a reason
Be truthful to your fish
Be faithful as you wish them to be
They swim about for a living
The Iliad and Odyssey are recommended reading
For people, not aquatic types
Anything other than Greek might suffice
Goldfish don't speak Greek
Don't know about the Trojans either
Luwian is foreign and hard to pronounce
Too many vowels and consonants
Along with cuneiform and hieroglyphic characters
Goldfish are not conversant in such languages
We recommend leaving them in a bowl
Preferably filled with water
That way they can grow old
Don't confuse them with gray guppies
Goldfish are gold
Some say orange or red
Love your fishes any way
Like the good book says
….or was it the cook book?
She was eminently qualified in numbers
Held fast to the beliefs in physical objects
Felt every molecule down to her mortal soul
Religion guided Sue through water and soil
Down in the mud of love
Prayer lined up on the side of God
A tool most useful in the invisible realm
If not
She was locked in tangibles
Sherlocked away to wait for Easter
Buried under a stone most uncomfortable
Undetected
To be deduced, from what is and what is not
Thereby order could be restored on Sunday
Drilled down to the atomic level of abomination
Established first by logic in the seventeenth century
Light won't pass through the ways of reason
Being solid as it stands
Where souls split into the Adam unnatural at Evening
All men are created equal to their mortal core
The Iliad and Odyssey are read and dead
In another language long and gone
Sue knows Greek as a 5 letter word
Greek know Sue more than you know
Trojans were of another kind of clan
Spoke Luwian at length
Cuneiform or hieroglyphic characters carved
Souls starved for more attention than misunderstanding
Stood out in their own reflection
Crawled home in a holy hole for protection
Flashlights are not prescribed for reading Homer
We recommend Sue's interpretation of the past
Objects in Archeological pockets are counted
Sins glow in the dark inspected
Calculated to the numerical physicality of being
Extolled by Sue who knows such things
Gold is found without tools to grasp the meaning
Souls unearthed remain with words unspoken
English is not an ancient tongue
Extensions take the dig
Can only go so far
Sue knows who you are
Before it starts
Hieroglyphs and Holograms
A hieroglyph
Precise but brief
presentation
of terms as icon
symbol, sign,
picture, design
or pictograph
covers enough.
Hieroglyphic
version referred
Egyptian
as Luwian
language
in ancient age.
thought as purity
from antiquity.
Hologram
Precise but firm
3-D image
of modern age.
Photographic
pattern specific
by Laser beam
flashed on theme.
Scattered light
should fall right
on medium dot
to imprint prompt.
06/08/216
Hieroglyphs and Holograms Contest
Sponsor Antony Slausen
diamond rings
and romantic flings
stop being
because the summer birds
no longer sing
word?
broken wings
and exiled kings
write beautiful or ugly things
just beware of what this brings
have I never told you
my fingers produce lighting
seriously!
hieroglyphic writings
rare sightings
and priceless findings
I hope rhymes like these
are more to your liking
thanks :)