Best Jades Poems
In waters’ calm leisure, mellow tides drift
Along back strides that always find their sway,
The lighter blues, the deeper jades, that sift
Glimmers of mollusks that twinkle and play.
From the swoon of bay when dusk slowly cranes
Pewter the wavelets, darker steel the shore;
Above, one bold and yellow stripe explores
To jiggle in a curdled breeze and spills
A frothy crest with waltzes soon to fade
Before moon comes in her gathering wade.
Sheri Fresonke Harper's Out Of Water Contest
"Upside Down World"
the lightness of being
the darkness of truth
still and silent jades
camouflaged
prisons in your
freedom greens
we touch the mirror
to see reflection
of the other
pools of forever
watching me
watch you
deep waters
undercover
private eyes
crisp green apples
worn out fading blues
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
Sounds of Resueño (Mixed By Samaya) {ft. Mose & more} [Folktronica / Organic House]
https://youtu.be/3b8U5kErGyw
"The clouds parted like the pursed lips of desire,"
drawing an ambience for dreamers to dream
with watercolor whispers and acrylic zen ~
amorous, magnetic, and achingly alluring,
dusted in mauve-winged wishes,
as the moon’s crown sparkled in gold…
O beloved crescent ~ that stirs my ink,
love me like sultry sea waves,
rippling through Cupid’s veil ~
a surreal sketch of sunset soulmates,
destined to dance beyond time’s thistles,
oblivious to the jades of jealousy.
Meet me where memories fade,
and pain is an unfamiliar poem,
for I wear your love-stained letters ~
breathless, spellbound, and intoxicated
by the scent of handwritten heartbeats…
But if stars could sing, and dusk could speak,
would you heed the tunes of twilight,
like rain tracing fire along your skin,
while night hangs silent, and the breeze unfurls~
a ballet of butterflies in sync,
with the pulse and kiss of lunar lace…
"Helios and The Tempest"
...
full knowing his azures
she watches him rising
he sends sunlight
to her windows
full knowing the thoughts
non-conditional behind
her shaded jades
what fresh hell is this
spring green now
becomes her dazzling day
he doesn't miss a trick
he sends golden smiles
they're forever in eclipse
when he is the sun
she is the moon
day in day out
they move like this
he weathers her warmly
The Tempest
lets her reign
he brings out his fire
imparts each time
time and time again
she crackles electric
radiant
her thunder and
her lightning rods
thrown for want
of love
he lets her reign
like this
he brings out his fire
imparts to her each time
she's captured with
a long held kiss
suspended she is
enraptured
he has won at this
she will gladly fold
into him, and to him alone
she'll willingly lose
to share a chance at bliss
Hearts are Trumps
They can win at this
(LadyLabyrinth/2020)
"The Internal Garden"
Inwards ever inwards
overgrown with jungle
my weeds bloom
eventually into
the most exotic flowers
colours exquisite
vibrant and unknown
breaking the external barriers
within the one called home
their perfume singing
and sending gifts
whisper soft now
tickling
all venomous and
benevolent muses
escaping Amygdala
sliding through Alcatraz
with diamond dogs and snakes
silver crystal glistening grass
softly gorgeous green and gecko like
moving emeralds
velvet eyes 'neath
dark and dusky fringes
piercing light waves
shining changing shapes
and shades
I am fresh
for taking red apples
ripe and delicious
juicy, a taste for hot living
twin blue lakes as mirrors
stripped naked now jades
breaching new skin
for moving limbs
and skinny dipping
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
Fuchsia panels
Standing parallel, like soldiers standing to attention
Push them forward, and venture onward
Like a woodpecker pecked cloth spread across the atmosphere
A permeable shelter of green does cover the cobble below
The darks and the lights of the jades and the emeralds
Add shimmer and flatness to this world of calm
Suspended from somewhere, someplace above
Hang scattered hues of violet
Almost candy floss like
Breaking up and breaking through the veil of green
Clusters of red also
Climbing up, up
Reaching towards the skies
Though forever trapped within their own dwelling
Observe, the kaleidoscope of colours
.............................................
And then, once more, the fuchsia panels
Standing parallel, like soldiers standing to attention
Push them forward - and leave behind…
Jades of green, yellow and white;
the colors of life grow warm against the skin.
Precious gems of the lands minerals;
coveted by any, Jade is the stone of emperors;
lends a classy aire to any occasion and
a warm, rich presence to its wearer.
With our Shoshone friends and escorts we are headed to the Nez Perce Trail,
an ancient path that joins the West to East, its late August
the pines smell spiced with emerald soul, wise and healthy,
its getting harder to breathe but easier to believe
that we are destin to be the poets of our own history,
Cameahwait and his guides are solemn in their acquiescence
to show us where the Missouri is birthed, reticent they are
we know not why but we are ecstatic to behold the source
which we shall pass before reaching the trail,
uphill into a clearing of gentle jades of green
on ground soft with the moisture of fertility
a thin stream slowly skips through a tumbling journey
as we ascend between the budding hips of this mountain
the stream becomes no more than a gurgling trickle
slipping down from the snowy peaks,
each of us takes a turn standing over this mountain menstruation
with a foot on both sides as a gesture of respect and conquest
how far we've come, and labored
against the whims, fury and power of the Missouri
and here we are, giants above it's innocence,
J.A.B.
Your emerald eyes,
mint breath,
and the spring dress
that you wore on our first
date, vividly flash in my memories,
like a tape recorder that can't be stopped.
I still crave your seductive nature,
as deep and beautiful as a tropical rain
forest, or a school of butterfly fish
dancing around the Caribbean green
seaweed.
You are worth more than a thousand jades
in my life.....
NB: Shades of green used in the poem:
*Emerald *Caribbean green
*Mint *Jade
*Spring
*Tropical rain forest
Date Published: 3/1/2016
"Licking Life’s Luscious Lips"
Life viewed
ephemeral
pulsating, stroking
many smooth angles
there are no sharp
golden lit angels found here
touting
slippery sails
floating away
to dreamland swinging
self righteous
sermons
burning
for something
"MORE"
tripping on
tarnished halos
twisting dreams
of a life ordinary
natural
hunts
through
the faux
goodbye Poe
when Summer comes
to kiss off the wintry
long dark good knights
jades now see fully
through the kaleidoscope
blushing entries
expectant arrivals
shown
exiting
flushed contesting
through the consistent
revolving door
evolvers evolving
revealing
strident smiles
minds
repetitive
complex music
sedative
long legged demon
dropping old chapters
tearing pages
of wasted time
strategic
feral, wild
contemplating
fresh conviction
lost lexicon
freed loose matters
decisions threaded
through haystack needles
licking life’s luscious lips
feline hungry
preying for
the crème de la crème
the cherry's always
on top
LOVE
like a cat
kneading ...
"More"
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
Ah, Winter. You grip tight with your icy fingers
casting the world in throes of frost and snow.
Reluctantly with infinite slowness you let go,
your job now done, hibernation is now over.
With joy, Spring rushes in warming the lands.
All around us are the signs of the new life
with tender buds that slowly unfurl their leaves
bringing a flood of hues of emerald and jades.
Appearing now the bulbs of spring flowers
gay daffodils wave in the gentle breezes.
Whilst the borders now are draped in colour
of other early flowers with roses still to come.
So to Winter we abide adieu with smiles
and let Spring warm the cockles of our hearts.
Birds singing with delight as they busily
collect twigs, new life now in abundance bounds.
Soon fledglings flee the safety of nest
and pretty butterflies flit around flowers.
Winter now fades away in our memories
with open arms Spring herself we embrace.
not for contest just an example of what I am looking for
"Interiority"
see inside
the shades of green
chakra,
glistening emerald
forest moss,
cool sage
fragrant myrtle
bowing
over moist
spread clover
diving deep
inside the interior
jades sharpened
true twin mirrors
all the sweet
limes
playfully teased
and bit
shook leaves
tasted
kissed
lips mint
slammed
and salted rhymed
twin possibilities
shamrocks marking time
unzip the
Interiority
A Green enigma
velvet garden
watching
Mr Blue Sky
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
Uncovering the earth, as the snow finally fades
Sunny days; bringing, aesthetically soothing jades
Towns spring to life, with congruent daily parades
Simply enjoying life, in its moments and decades;
Words following free; in poetically wild chardes
A deck of playing cards filled with hearts; and no spades
When the evening sets its sight the joy, it still never degrades
Fulfilling; is discovering; when happiness, promenades
As I searched the calm sunless afternoon sky- looking for the humming aeroplane;
piercing the layers of patch sky under the fie-
shade of undense orange sapling,
as the effulge plane became fainter-
the hum louder; and the pale trail less unseen;
my eyes and mind kept on searching the- colourless layers of patch clouds; untiring;
before a melancholy bird started in trance a- voluptuous song not far from my height
as she caught my gaze she became afraid- unstable, of even the echo of passing air;
but she didn't flew away, stretching her feathers- clunging the tiny branches in might,
undermining the large unknown evil in me that- even me wasn't aware, which is not fair,
I think with her size, and luster brown colour she- might be from the families of doves
In retrospecting forgotten past, she was inventer- of French kiss; body clung intimate;
as I picked a bolder to cause her harm, I saw her- feets adorn with glib of cut-off reeds
I think she had patiently walk the lather of- insidious love, and now becoming a parent,
in three days when I remembered her; I checked- for she had beautifully woven her nest;
she laid two pale-white colour eggs, and-
whenever I passed, she laid serenely on her eggs,
each time I sat under the tranquil shade of my- sapling orange; she watched me in haste,
till one painfully cloudy afternoon when rainstorm- came, and overpowered her experience
I was away watching Manchester, and Arsenal- play, coming home I meet her wet in farness;
exhaustion, and cold added to her despair as she- watched me picking her eggs on the floor,
I embroided her nest carefully; under the haze of- cold; medleying her stale reeds in freshness;
placing the crack undamage egg in company of- the merge damage shell; as my tears flow,
I ponderously watch as she came some feets to- her nest taking it maybe as derision travesty
she gaze longer at her broken eggs; timid to laid- on them, as we watch ourselves in sterility
without knowing what the other was thinking-
then she flew faintly high onto sky as rain jades
next morning I found her coldly dead, rigidly beside my stool under the sapling orange shades.
We know that trees reach...
Ignoring the substance
of Earth and seeking
the damp and the light,
the wet on the way,
to the light on some
far side, a far side
with promise of light
when all here is dark.
All moments are rooted
within themselves;
and in themselves
they find Reach
Past shadows,
the understory of
reach, following
slants and slivers of shine:
first charcoal, now
jades, following gold
to the promise
of blue.
reach, reach
each, each
moment
reach, reach
each, each
moment
of life.
To skies
seen above;
to skies
believed below.
But did you know?:
a fallen Fraser
a felled fig
a downed dogwood
a horizontal horse chestnut
may reach all the same
like long-dead ancestors
whose stories and myths are
told over cut-split-spark wood
late at night. Carrying stories,
wisdom, laughter, & lessons...
...and their meanings teach you
...and their meanings reach you
beyond death, from another shore.
For a good reach can outlast
death,
can outfox
time,
can outdo
death.
So, too the timber
whose roots kiss the air,
whose leaves've lost
sight of the light,
continues its sacred
reach...
If you look
across the gap
to the distant shore
you may yet see
the teachings of trees
uprooted and rotting.
The teachings of trees
so muted, so not-Spring.
There! Over the burble,
retired from reaching
but still she is teaching
the value of reaching;
becoming a bridge
that we each might reach,
tiptoeing on beech,
to the far 'n long-promised
beach.