Best Parfum Poems
Starbright
As I gaze into indigo skies,
Stars are brighter tonight,
Twinkling in the darkness
Of a new moon.
Orion's belt enchants
My impassioned heart
As my thoughts of you soar
In a dimension devoid
Of Time's constraints.
Let me feel the warmth of your
Strong arms wrapped 'round me
As we breathe in the scent
Of night blooming jasmine.
You are my summer nights—
In my dreams of us
On cool cotton sheets
While Bach serenades us in
Rainbows of ribbons~
In a symphony of sounds~
Your skin glistens,
And I am lost in love.
8-21-22
(French translation)
Starbright
Comme j'ai regarder dans le ciel indigo,
Les étoiles sont plus lumineux, ce soir,
Scintillant dans l'obscurité
D'une nouvelle lune.
Ceinture d'Orion enchante
Mon coeur passionné
Comme mes pensées de vous atteindre
Dans une dimension dépourvue
Des contraintes de temps.
Je voudrais sentir la chaleur de votre
Bras forts enveloppés "autour de moi
Que nous respirons le parfum
Fleur Jasmin de nuit.
Vous êtes mes nuits d'été--
Dans mes rêves de nous
Sur des draps en coton cool
Bien que Bach sérénades nous dans un
Arc en ciel de rubans ~
Dans une symphonie de sons ~
Votre peau scintille,
Et je suis perdu dans l'amour.
8-21-22
~Second Place~
The Meaning of Love Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
____________________________________________
7-22-2016
~First Place~
Best Love Poem EVER
Contest Judged: 8/27/2016
Sponsored by: Lu Loo
Vous êtes le parfum de mon âme . . .
A vintage red flowing slowly past my moist lips
sipped in anticipation
a flower beaming her brilliant white resting
across my chest
a painted moon lain over your bare shoulder
cascading a heavenly hue
a twinkle speaking to a soul
in words never told
and this night you're existence
I'll forever hold
inside my craving heart
Aime-moi ce soir et toujours
Õ! Mon desert ! Mon trésor
La source de ma joie toi le Maroc
La rose qui répand l'audeur
et le parfum des fidèles
Quand je mets mon pied sur le sol Je ressens que mon corps s'élève au dessus di ciel
Il s'envole, ses ailes déployés, sur cette terre considérable
Mon âme qui est autrefois semble Peureuse vulnérable
Devient comme un aigle imposant sans chagrin
u r a queen
your walk
so elegant
so poised
your legs
like marble pillars
u r a queen
your smile
crafted beautifully
u r a queen
your hips
shaped like
the finest apple
in the orchard
u r a queen
your bosom
bloom like the lillies
on the sharon plain
u r a queen
your skin
your melanin
encases your inner beauty
so lovely
so powerful
u r a queen
your name
like a spreading parfum
how lovely is the fragrance
u r a queen
your beauty
far beyond words
u r a queen
your lips
so inviting
scarlet ribbon color
sweet like nectar
u r a queen
your soul
filled with honey and milk
far more fragrant
than a mountain of frankincense
so sweet
so citrusy
u r a queen
u r a queen
u r a queen
peu à peu comme une rose
quand vient l’automne
je t’ai vu faner
devant moi tout lentement
je n’aurais pas cru
voir éclore entre nous un amour si serein
garni d’un parfum plus divin
tu m’as offert l’intimité comme un trésor
que l’on offre sans rien à cacher
d’un cœur innocent
cette proximité restera toujours avec moi
tu seras en tout temps l’amour de ma vie
je n’aurais jamais osé croire
devoir un jour te dire adieu mais voilà
Translated from my poem YOU WERE MY HARDEST GOODBYE
Posted on May 14, 2021
I am the queen of the garden
The most beautiful one
The most good parfum one
The one that people admired
And even fall in love with
No wonder who I am?
I am the priority of love
Especially on Valentine's day
You'll see me everywhere
There is not an occasion
That I am not present
I am always
If you plant me in your garden
You won't regret
I have different colors
And different signification
I rule every flower in the garden
Because I am the QUEEN
To give a bouquet of me
To the one you love
Is enough to prove
How much you are in love
I am the theme for love
I am the most sensation one
I make every human hearts
Feels happy
Because it's me
The most sweet and lovely ones
THE ROSE!
Form:
-
Soon
the moon is black,
she is in mourning of the evening
Over the garden’s stones
Shadows are getting longer
from tomorrow
The confusion of the sky
The seedling of comets
The pulse of the planets
Will do nothing with the future
Just the scent of roses
Newly hatched
Seized of fear
In the sweetness of things
Back already.
--
–( own translation from : "éclipse et deuil du soir )
-
Bientôt,
la lune est noire,
elle porte le deuil du soir
Sur les pierres du jardin
S’allongent les ombres
de demain
La confusion du ciel
Le semis des comètes
Le pouls des planètes
Ne fera rien de l’avenir
Que le parfum des roses
A peine écloses
Saisies de peur
Dans la douceur des choses
Déjà de retour.
RC – 26 Mai 2012
Gordon entered his apartment and gasped.
How could he have left the place in such a disarray?
He phoned Rosie the head of the handmaids.
Gordon was never rude but he complained.
Seemed the was a widespread fever infection.
However, Rosie promised to solve her problems.
Soon the bell rang and on the doorstep was the redhead!
“I am not the char, but Mother Rosie wanted me to help.”
Silently Gordon, cursing destiny, shrugged and led her in.
It did not take long to have the apartment in proper shape.
He offered her wages due to her, but she refused,
Instead, she asked him to take her for a small lunch.
“Give the wage to Mother, but from you, I need a favour.”
She told him that her name was Emily, and needed him.
Next Saturday was her sister’s wedding and she was alone.
She was the bridesmaid and had no one to partner her.
He was a perfect fit. Was this a curse or fate, wondered Gordon.
He could hardly refuse and exchanged mobile phone numbers.
The wedding reception was a great success. Emily’s designs
Were fabulous. The food was tasty. The guests were happy.
The bride and groom opened the dance and like a gentleman,
Gordon took Emily in his arms to dance and shuddered.
She had the same perfume Sophie used, a clean, fresh vibe,
A Chloé Eau de Parfum, neither cheap nor costly.
The soft singer sang: “The Last Waltz should last forever.”
We danced cheek to cheek, my heart fluttering in love.
And without hesitation, I blurted: Prepare your bride’s dress.
And kissed her full on her sweet, soft lips. Fate?
When fate summons, monarchs must obey, says an old proverb.
Ooh, how he loved
sliding his hands
over the long silkiness,
the youthful curves
of his new wife,
over the negligee
before it rode up…
anticipation like driving a new car -
not comparable,
I know,
and at odds,
depending on
whether you are for the wife
or the car.
Ooh, how he loved sliding his hands
over the hood,
the caps,
the hips,
the back.
He loved the mirrors -
those on
the side or over the bed.
He handled his new ride with care,
the caress with smiles to impress.
The leather new, the scent
of Mon Paris Eau de Parfum.
He’s not a poet, notices not
the moon, sun or stars,
but he can feel his way
in the dark.
Dark night coalesced
Beloved idyllic kiss
Evanescent sky
Encompass loving ether
Scintilla of wood parfum
5-12-2016
Part I
I am dazzling in this dress;
But I am no damsel in distress.
Pink-blushed cheeks will convince,
Assure you of my innocence.
Soft flowing tresses curled with care—
Magnets to metal; your fingers, my hair.
Lips stained red, not for the trend,
Poison-painted and lined with intent.
Heels—
High off the ground, bring you near;
The better to peer into your eyes, my dear.
A drop of parfum on my neck
Intoxicate but not bring death—just yet.
Part II
Taste of my kiss and turn to stone;
I’ll draw your breath and leave you none.
I’ll lie with you on the floor;
But when I leave, you’ll rise no more.
Silent and still, you’ll watch me go--
And pray for an end to the pain you know.
I am the Siren singing your doom--
Hear my song and find your tomb.
I am a Damsel of Distress.
Dressed to kill, in this dress.
Fallen petals from a funeral wreath,
freshly dug-earth,
and a hint of rot…
linger in the graveyard air
and mingle with the living scents
of the spring breeze—
of lilac and honeysuckle,
and the more elusive smell
of memories and of prayers
They are present here,
as she sits beside his grave
Recalling with eerie detail
the lines of his face, the love in his eyes
And wonders with morbid thoughts
how those features have transformed now
As she contemplates
what lay beneath the earth’s crust
and what similar fate awaits her,
there comes a new smell among
the stones and moss—
An overwhelming smell of fear.
Please, Sir, leave the lights on and lock the door. Go as if you would come back
because I don´t want to be sure that´s forever. Forget a pair of jeans in the closet
and a white T-shirt in the dirty clothes' basket ...one last parfum on the toilete´s
cold marble counter and a forgotten restaurant bill from the last month . Go, but
leave the sensation your steps through the apartment are still usual. Please
leave the toothpaste half squeezed, a wet towel on the bed and remember to not
return the video. Oh, before going, pick up this piece of mine which is on the floor
and bring me the super glue.
Welcome to the day,
a boring drag of thought.
Longing for breath,
as the brilliant Balius battles-
the remaining refugees, of the mind.
Welcome to the night,
the manor opens, the garden-
a parfum arises, the sepulcher looms
begging to be joined.
The grave of heroes
the sepulcher engraved-
Imagination.
I wear my heart on paper
Ink fills my veins like blood
reviews cut like a razor
but I’m addicted to the pen.
I pump words with every heartbeat
I hoard paragraphs in my room
I take interjections like a junkie
I wear verbs like a parfum.
I’m feeling the contractions
as I erase awkward phrases
I write sad poems that feel like skin.
and fill sheets of diary pages
I blush at lurid pronouns
that I conjure then,
I consider putting word-play off
but I’m sentenced to the pen
.
.
.
*Inspired by Michael R. Burch's poem: At the Natchez Trace