Best Xanthous Poems
A period of youthful vim ferments
as coruscating golden flecks in eyes
that mesmerise and tantalise, give rise
to secrets in my breast to stir, foment.
The xanthous tresses that cascade torment.
My eager and impressionable sighs
that echo every pirouette and pliés,
a fleeting intercession of lament.
A maverick when it comes to amour
and quintessentially a rakish cad.
Unrequited love longstanding rancour,
but finally become your paramour.
An enigmatic smile ever so sad;
your broken heart I gladly give succour.
"I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it..."
E.E. Cummings
Amber hues kissed twilight's platinum pigments that night,
beckoning ivory pearls to weave patterns of astral flames.
Charm of the crescent moon glowed in a golden gem tinge,
dazzling in divine desires, devoted to admirers of starlit destinies.
Enamoured, we embraced, consoling under coral constellations,
forgetting fears, promising to forever remain as cosmic lanterns.
Galactic fires of euphoria, blazed celestial candles into dripping wax,
hushing horizons into a heavenly haven of honeysuckle hope.
Intoxicated inside fireworks of ethereal lights, dancing on clouds,
jasmine jubilance filled the air, as shy silver sparks slipped away.
Kindled spirits like nocturnal diamonds yearned to be eternal
lovers of luminescent lullabies lingering inside opalescent orbs.
Magnetism of moonlight melodies are enchanting, but ephemeral,
nothing lasts forever, so at dawn with the arrival of a nightingale
orchestra, our obsession of obeisance withered like an orchid obituary.
Pastel passions of our paramour portrait discoloured with daylight dew,
quivering in nature's quiet quarantine of quintessence slumber.
Radiant rays only offered reflections of regret and rejection, as,
sorrows of sunflowers in winter winds shattered my hourglass heart.
These tribulations torment my tired soul, like a refugee of romance.
Unstable, under an umber universe, I've become an uncherished
verse in a voiceless vocabulary, no longer vibrant nor valued.
Wilting in the wilderness without your wisteria whispers, wounds in
xanthous tumours, hidden behind a veil of Xanadu metaphors,
yearn to heal from yesterdays, where your touch softened my burdens.
Zest of your zealotry is engraved in echoes of my zephyr heartbeats.
Dedicated to Evelyn Judy Buehler. I love the joy
and color she brings to her poetry!
Pink puddle of petals, precious
underneath the parasol tree.
Celebrant-pear in bridal white —
pairs walk down the chapel aisle.
The vigor of a garden dressed —
up and down the rows, I’m restless.
Blossoms of bittersweet passion —
red and tangerine attraction.
Sunspree of yellow jonquils —
tiptoeing tiny-tim-like through them.
No mortal map or shovel can undermine
the undiscovered pearly gate of Eden.
Roses blush with tinted cheeks —
a suitor pinches a couple dozen.
Black-eye in the center of a coneflower —
red-tinged-xanthous Susan rays of Summer.
Precious and few, our foray of the perfect,
the most extensive, the coolest environment.
Golden buttermilk rose, with its ruffled petals —
pleasant scent neighboring the paprika yarrow.
What worth Eden — its treasures of rainbow showers,
scents that are mind boggling, its puddles of petals?
3/22/2021
Then my heart with pleasure fills and dances with the daffodils.
—-William Wordsworth
DILLY-DILLY DAFFODILS
Dilly-dilly daffodils in a lady’s tress,
Sailing as she throws off distress.
Blithesome in shades of yellow and blue,
The yellow-buttercups a felicitous crew.
Dancing fair maiden-esprit, free
Of worry, no anxiety, Swinging gloriously —
A merry-go-round, dizzying sashay.
O how these pretty ladies brighten the day.
Dilly-dilly daffodils splashing everywhere,
Xanthous snow-shower of motherly care.
Warms the rainbow of hearts, rocks
Deep-dark dungeon despair into goldy-locks.
Slays the Winter dragon, breath-stifling depress.
Parades open-air confidence and playfulness.
Dilly-O-Delightful daffodils trumpet applaud,
bowing and curtsying — a faerie squad.
Dandelions look on with jealousy, turn white,
blow far, far away, leaving a lantern-light
of palace gardens, star chandeliers, riverdale,
green goblet-meadows, a sunshiny-fairytale.
3/12/2021
*For Caren Krutsinger*
in quietness divine
the xanthous zephyr balm
a citrusy ascent
to sip on Summer’s tea
a lovely day is spent
in quietness divine
a fine fettle of dreams
the fantasy, a soak
an Autumn bath of leaves
the stately sigh of oak
in quietness divine
by brandy quell of warmth
the crunch of hooves in snow
a pen and paper touch
and subtle shade aglow
in quietness divine
calm wings with songs enchant
all Spring is kin of dawn
behold a lake with swans
pink petals on rose lawn
1/25/2021
ALL YOURS
SPONSOR: BRIAN STRAND
Love’s in the blue, the sky, the bird, the ray.
Xanthous flicker of light - the brilliant sun.
And white, the vellum space - she spills her day.
Emerald gown, her dress; hair golden spun.
Across the tiresome sea, the divide’s great.
Reflective waves imagine softest curls.
Easygoing, flashy morning, this date.
The reds turn black and storm’s a beast of whorls.
Yet, he hangs on a crest of splintered wood.
Seaman’s invested in a hearty plea.
“Call me back home. You’ll find me all good.”
He sings “Siren of mine, I will find thee.”
It’s in his dreams, though waves do kick and bruise.
She dreams it too, that it’s his fate to lose.
RENOIR’S REDFOX
Fall’s raven-black hat
highlights her redfox-wool locks —
the xanthous sun leaps
from the buttery bouquet
twinkling in the atmosphere
10/29/2019
Rendered faceless by the artist, she appeals to the masses. This angel takes up the canvas. Her identity of she is given by the poet. Bold with chromatic colors. Only Gabriel and archangel Michael are mentioned by name in the holy bible.
Hosts of angels appear when human eyes are open to the invisible. Some artists have reduced angels to chubby-cheeked toddlers. Likely the appearance of one angel in his/her shining glory would knock you to the ground with the force of lightning.
After losing one job, I had a strange encounter with a woman. I don’t remember what she said but it spoke to my heart. We saw each other for a split second. I immediately felt that she was an angel in human form.
Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers,
for by so doing some people
have entertained angels without knowing it
HEBREWS 13:2
SACRE COEUR WINGS
bauble-head with a 3-d halo,
she’s full-pink-bubblegum faceless.
strong stripes of her skirt lend
themselves to upper body strength.
extension of shoulders, the arch
of see-through wings outlined
in white, blue, pink, bright yellow.
xanthous flowers like birds
cling to the angel-sleeves
whilst the cerulean sky
seeps through sacre coeur wings.
centerfold heart
open in her chest, big and bold
with sunlike rays.
she’s a flotation device over the deep blue lake.
she’s Eden’s garden in flight.
she’s light…she beams.
8/7/2021
Emile Pinet’s Imagism
Land of Summertime
Maroon Mums lay among white vast cushions.
So proud are Heathers far above Queen Buttons.
See hazy Coxcombs brush the Willy Willows while
Dandelions are resting upon white Angel Pillows.
Carmine Kangaroom paws hop, hop, and hop.
Lumonium, Gladiolus and Larkspur lazily stop.
Lisanthus, talebear and go tell the other Orchids!
Look, look, Snapdragons, scouting for Kings!
Adjoin virtuosity, there are inklings of scent!
Rose Spray whirls in the dancing breeze.
Astonished is Alabaster eyes and stance as
Xanthous Daffodils giggle and sneeze.
Aster nurtures the Baby's Breath without relent
As Spring and Summer embrace the scent.
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Crepuscle beamed, descried at the telluric cyan orb
Dusk devoured auric daystar as lambency was absorbed
Sun's verve, twinkle immersed by the lil' murk
Permeate the newfangled burst of wavering lights in the skylark
Stupefied by the wondrous jaw-dropping milieu
Quadrilateral lunar satellite came into being ... it's true
Moonlight in turquoise, then cerulean radiance come forth
Sometimes vermilion, xanthous, amethyst in hue, real ravishing in worth
Nightfall turned into a deluxe, grandiose discotheque
Music of pyrotechnics, symphonized in grotesque
Four-sided night star trip the light fantastic
Made every cyclicity, rhythm, syncopation exotic
What a comely, ecstatic, striking, mind-glued augury
A tour in the out of this world planet, where there's no existing adversary
I am the sculptor, architect and painter of my own exquisite sunset
Twilight's ikon in my mind still in set
Written in words, penned with the mind's eye
Done through the " LIMITLESS " dye.
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As I stood before the porcelaneous basin,
And streamed into its already uric and xanthous-stained depths,
A stain, a sight and a liquid yet yellower and more urinary;
And as cloudiness, not of mind, but of that which is uric attended the
Deposition, a thought occurred unto me, and it poetically and psalmically
Collected and gathered and arranged itself, so that it was as follows:
Does she of a morning stand before some wicked ablutionary sink,
That vile whorish slattern who devoutly believes that only dulcet voices
Emanate from the mouths of the damned in the pits of the lowest Hell?
What fell and foul rites does she with hands cleansed with foulest,
Blackest, evilest water; which of these wickednesses does she perform
And practice, she who washes her hands in the black-flowing waters of
The Stygian pit?
Who is this damned damsel, dame, and maiden fell and foul and not a bit
Fair, who as a fool believes that there are melodious voices echoing in a
Mellifluous and delightful chorus in the lowest pits of Hell?
Though I doubt not that therein there be many an ungodly maiden:
Indeed, the blackest, foulest, ungodliest of fell and evildoing maidens:
Plaguing and blighting the very pits of Hell, who is to say that their
Feminity alone endows unto them a felicity and a melodiousness of tone?
That is doubtless the (unsound) thought that crept into the very
Black heart of she who wrote those foul, foolish words;
But to me, not even the godliest or the goodliest of men,
But inditing ever of good with heart, and tongue and mind and pen,
For such is the great purpose of art such as this, no?
Withal, to me, she spoke of foolery, and of folly.
Lest she be speaking facetiously, in her daft assessment
Of foulest Sheol, she surely was wrong.
Wronger than wrong, if such a thing ever be.
And in my mind, as I urinated, I thought these poetic, psalmic thoughts.
And, though there be hundreds of characters and spaces remaining,
Touching this and that and all things else
And any number and all manner of good
Or e'en fell and foul
Matters, I haven't a word else to say.
The poem is expended, completed, done today
And so am I, with it at least, I must say.
abecedarian
An arch's lowest stone from which it springs is a springer
Bounce in one’s step common to infatuation
Cricket term – one of a set of rubber strips on a bat handle
Door lock that will only open with a key
Elasticity, needed in many toys and tools
Fountainhead or source of inspiration
Growth and renewal time for plants
Hunting term - to rouse from cover
Instance of water leaking, as from pipes
Jump up and down as on a trampoline
Keys that are used to tighten clockworks
Loose from its anchor, usually by accident
Mechanical term - stored, potential energy
Nautical term - a mooring line amid two ships
Origin of water bubbling from the ground
Payment treating someone to a meal
Quickness to one's steps when late for a meeting
Release from imprisonment or confinement
Season between winter and summer
Tension released causing objects to move
Unexpected occurrence sometimes upwards
Vernal, relating to the spring equinox
Warped or bent out of shape as a ship’s wooden mast
Xanthous, the color of spring flowers, crocus, daffodils, forsythia
Yo-yo up and down or sideways from a coiled string
Zoology - a group of teal ducks
a compendium of words relating to various connections for the word, spring written February 18, 2015. My favorite: the last.
I fell in love amid the xanthous yellow
as clarions of daffodils awaken
in the gently warming winds of April's song
to the springtime air.
As soft as the breeze she took hold of my hand
and led me to places only lovers see,
draped in faded charms of cherry tree blossom
my heart came alive.
In her kiss, a tender moment of rebirth,
the empty soul I was stirred into being
my transition in her loving embrace
a heart’s destiny.
I gaze at a saffron sunset
as a tawny owl sails overhead,
while yellow sunflowers feel threat
until evening prayers are said.
The flaxen fields and amber plains
reflect the xanthous of fading sun.
A copse of vivid ocher trees wanes
awaiting a primrose moon to stun.
Canary daisies soundly sleep
and dream beside a citrine lake
while glorious goldenrods peep
gaily as fallow bucks’ antlers shake.
Mary’s marigolds shine their best,
a nankeen horizon fails to arrest.
Soon the sun will propose its rest
and slip below the mountain’s crest.
Xanthous vipers crumble and
Copulate on pallid bursts
Of violent ash and vapid sand
Drunken blows to swollen bones
Macabre and salty, bitter and grand
While wolven maws abuse brash lips
Gluttonous passion
Simmers on pendulum hips
Thrashing crests of poignant skin
Fevered, gasping, blissful sin