The women fell upon the bodies of the dead,
clearing blindfolds for one last look upon their face.
Shot, against a carmine wall, no matter how they pled.
So now they mourn them through a veil of blackened lace.
A mother presses lips upon a virgin son;
a bride, in bloodstained white, whispers; she is to be;
a sister screams, at smoking guns, what have you done?
A Captain brushes some cigar ash from his knee.
Harvard’s a black hole, info wise.
So, let’s see.. what’s going on? What’s in the news?
Anything? Anything?
Hot take..
Not to be spicy and negative,
but sometimes i’m too much myself.
Too comfortable, open and vocal.
I can be opinionated.
Who knows who’s listening?
It could be anyone.
“That’s not red, it’s carmine,” I blirt.
There’s a rise and rush of feelings around the table.
FAQs drop, I get treated.
“God, get up and get at me,” I replied, with an unnerving poise.
People love a scene.
Happy 4th of July to Yankees everywhere!
.
.
Only a Fool Would Say That by Ivy
Lovely Day by Elizabeth Mitchell
L'Anamour by Ivy
.
slang:
FAQ = told the facts
Treated = attacked
amid green valleys'
sun's free through labyrinth fields~
red carmine leaves bath
The floral foliage of Fall fuels my pen to flow
Nature's carmine carnage is a crimson condition to watch
Russet quills of the trees float down in myriad shades
Amber leaves levitating like flying embers
Auburn arrows gliding to meet the earth
Soft sepia smiles sent down from the Shepherd above
Burnished varnished tree-bits travelling back to the ground
Crumbling orange smidgens creating crunchy cracklings
Brown bracts brave enough to bed with the soil
Gamboge hues gamboling like golden glowing gems
Lurid leaflets leaving their last lucid legacy
Before they turn into les feuilles mortes
October's moving in
I can feel it on my skin.
The wind blows lightly every leaf
but brings in the cooling sheaths
pushing back
the leftovers summer beats lack;
In the quiet rush
the trees whisper, hush
calling out to all of us,
change is in the breeze;
the warm that remains
is just a hint of September games
leaning into fall residue
autumn calling in the faded hues;
colors ranging from the lime lemon blends
into the shadings of olive-brown russets
so many shadow feature ramblings
rest in the crimson carmine maroons;
the sun rises late, ambers crawling in
setting early to the harvest orange crimson
and the reawakening of the blood moon
with autumn calling a lurid dying of October from June;
October's moving in
making for winter taunts and teasing
in the constant changing of the season.
Stars of Clarity 11-22-23
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Stars of Clarity
Lost in ebony
Void of bursting astral intuitions,
Alabaster amber stolen,
Abandoned in delirium’s decay
Of dying brown dwarfs
Hoarding lavender purple leftovers,
Hidden remnants of disguised advent,
Ashen sojourner wades through impotent stardust
Numb in faded platinum insight.
Out of grey vertigo
Carmine dwarfs arise to overshadow ebony
In a giddy sense of spangled glitter
When enigmas and puzzles
Step out of nebulas into mystic purity.
Pilgrim, found in neon,
Incandescent cavalcades of exploding chartreuse
Guide ephemeral crystalline visions,
Burnished auroras splash across epiphanies,
Rounded shards divulge silver nativity,
When salient flashes nurture constellations of certainty,
Astral sparks of cosmic scarlet explosions,
And shrouded a-ha’s emerge like incandescent sextons
Leading to stellar sequins - champagne diamonds of clarity.
Ample is the rising sun
That alights the furthest mountain –
A carmine drape upon every hill –
Exciting the birds to warble.
Ample, too, is the evening sun
That paints a nebulous curtain –
Quickly changing the palette until
Bringing the good day to shutter.
I am the hawk, the falcon, the eagle
circling the skies, swooping with the winds
that roar through gold and carmine canyons.
I soar to hunt, to pursue, to feed.
Gliding on ageless currents of thermal energies
exploding through the clouds,
stooping to the field, the sea, the desert.
I have the strength, the will, the fortitude
of the ages beside, and within, my being
sharpening my insight, my vision,
calling me to the feeding grounds.
I am the caveman, the forager, the hunter
of all within my penetrating sight.
Succumb to my mighty beak and talons.
Bat's fang ditches, vampiric disease needs stitches,
as carmine blood seeps, forever now she sleeps
Crimson leaves flutter with every brisk breeze,
sending cerise ripples through the treetops.
And as the Autumn winds tickle the trees,
sunburned farmers start harvesting their crops.
A scarlet sun bleeds onto carmine clouds,
inking colors that adhere to Night's brush.
And Dusk's magenta and rose-tinted shrouds
conceal Sol's death in a vermillion blush.
When Nature's pallet imbues Autumn’s art,
cinnabar collects on the forest trees.
And signaling Winter's about to start,
russet canopies shift tints in degrees.
Burgundy, fuchsia, and maroon leaves fall;
creating the masterpiece known as Fall.
Dear Fall, amaze us with your colors warm
the brilliant carmine, peach, and tangerine.
Weave a batik with more delicate charm
that glows and glints like lustrous opaline.
Bring the willful winds that chill the stale air.
Blow summer’s heat to our southern sister.
Fill the dry skies with nimbus clouds that flair
and revitalize us with their glister.
Let your winds sing a lullaby good night
while white snows begin to blanket our source.
We will soundly sleep dormant without blight
and let Mother Nature run through her course.
Sink your poisoned dragonfly wings in my chiffon atoms of smothered skin,
As I lay supine, along dusk's apathetic horizons, husky and hoaxed,
For, I'm a kin of blood-moon, gnawing at ivory moonstones and ocean's fins,
As a broken carmine harp, that blooms kohl-orchids from chartreuse stems, smoked,
If my fangs pierce through sun-sequined dawns, am I not grim reaper's broken ballerina?
As a wistful wildflower, I float in harbours of helium, weeping acidic dews,
Inhaling watercolor volcano's lifeless heartbeats, akin a frosted firebird,
Carving legends of medusa, on lilith's marble-canvas and mahogany adieus,
Rising as a seascape-myth on glossy shorelines, ebbing in onyx spirals, savoured,
If pine leaves strangle the trinkets of my throat, am I not a broken snowflake's last breath?
"I'm an orphan of poised Mars, swirling in solstitial meadows,
Of shipwrecked sonatas, saturating in igloo-hues of coiled shadows..."
(A Chain Verse)
'Tis a special night
Night of the blood moon
Moon's shimmering light
Light so softly strewn
Strewn across the lawn
Lawn shines crimson now
Now, that's why I'm drawn
Drawn to darkened brow
Brow of the hills glows
Glows erubescent
Erubescent pose
Pose that's pearlescent
Pearlescent blushing
Blushing round moon face
Face with joy gushing
Gushing with good grace
Grace rubicund pours
Pours on the hushed earth
Earth and all its shores
Shores swell with moon's mirth
Mirth of the moonbeams
Moonbeams' ruddy reach
Reach my pleasant dreams
Dreams that all bounds breach
Breach my world, red moon
Red moon rising slow
Slow my heartbeat's tune
Tune of carmine glow
A rhapsodic delight in a carmine feathered coat,
a cardinal sits amid the verdigris limbs;
with breast puffed out
he croons lovely tones as
vibrations of harmony
to my ears;
Ah, nature is bliss!
Summer, amid green valley's highest peaks
Through the woods air's sweet release carry on.
Birds quiet among leaves still far withdrawn.
Shade of carmine leaves bath in golden steaks.
Labyrinth fields sun's freedom to rally.
Horned owl rides the air stream, into darkness
Against the fading moonlight's hunt stillness
Joy flying in silence dilly-dally.
Cicadas sing loudly, nymphs mating song;
Graceful gray mourning doves forage in pairs
soft cooing sound, comforting that is theirs
A wee surprise exquisite bliss lies long.
Drizzling sunshine and showers creation,
Promising poetic inspiration.
6/11/2023
Related Poems