Spring Explosion 5-5-26
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Spring Explosion
A razzle dazzle of cerise surges
Bounding carmine flares
Sparks of chartreuse sizzle
Sapphire spangles ignite
Lavender fire combusts
Vernal mischief! Spring explodes!
I Am a TITAN, Solar Helmet Steady
I Am a Golden Phenom of Self Mastery,
Burning Bright, I Am a Diamond Soul of Opulence
Rising in Hyperborean Confidence,
I Am Heaven Blessed and Royally August
I Am Valiant, I Am Gallant, I Am Robust
I Am a Lion Blooded, Eagle Minded Conqueror
In Total Freedom My Wings Flutter,
Solo Ponderer, I Soul Cypher the Great Mystery
Tramping these Legendary Victories,
Kindling the Spark Of Hope, Ignites the Phoenix Epitome
Golden Born, I Rise Like Joshua Over Jericho
Fortified like Iron Pillars, I Stand Tall
Where the Stars are Blazing, Suddenly Blazon, Suddenly Enthralled
The Shine is of Jubilance
I Am Shimmering in Luminance,
Ecstatic and Exuberant
I Am a Phosphorescence Of Exuberance,
I Am Enlivened by the Resuscitation of the Searing Blaze
I Am Alive, I Am Sublime, I Am Stoic in Archaic Faith,
Star Gleaming, I Am a Metric Ton of Glorious Gold
Blazing the Noble Path of the Eight Fold,
Belief, it's an Absolute Must
Full Speed Ahead, the Inner Fire Combusts
This Luminous Torch Within I Trust
Got me Soul Drifting Wanderlust
soft light waves within
a heart of crystalline rays
the darkness abates-
bright vision of flame combusts
angel orbs dispel the haze
Viking, Viking burning bright,
on a pyre in the night,
though the wind howls and bites,
this funeral is out-of-sight!
Through the cold and falling snow,
on the lake your fire glows,
the ships combusts, and now I know
this here is how I want to go.
*-Obviously patterned off William Blake's famous poem 'The Tyger.'
Heed then the touch of certainty
That mellows in uncertainty
There is a strange reason why change
Fabricates an odd feeling strange
Embrace the conflict that confronts
As soul and mind and heart bear brunt
Seek to run away from harsh pain
That raptures swellings in your brain
Yet adjust to ample clashing
As grey matter combusts blazing
Anger is a crude attempt here
To survive the pains that endear
Bear with uncertainty right now
Yet live with what sweepings endow
Clear madness moves such crazy times
Where complex feelings kill plain rhymes
Success comes after tensile purge
Briefly jerking the fleeting urge
Leon Enriquez
28 August 2017
Singapore
The sun will shine brighter tomorrow when...
If you’re thinking meek is weak, you might be wrong.
We all know "peace and love" kind of people.
Check out their fuel you will learn that they’re strong
They do not argue what's good with what's evil.
“Meek” combusts from inside, working hard and long;
I’ve discovered that meekness runs on diesel.
Humility's patina shines from within.
written Jan 30, 2017, edited Jun 30, 2018
Triggered by his love strung bow
A love song of colours of the rainbow
Hides the winged assassin’s precision
For when one does fall in love
It’s from cupid’s blessings above
Fired by love’s unmissable first sight
The poisoned tipped projectile penetrates
With impact the soft and tender hearts
Then spontaneously combusts the two
Protruding from their bosoms
Radiating an unmistakable blossom
Of a flow,
soft,
delicate,
sweet,
,
,
,
l
o
v
e
08-18-2015
soak up the side streets of Montmartre,
Paris, Pigalle on Boulevard de Clichy
class less art combusts then drips
- street beggars & tourists cant
writer Rubbish pastes lace traceries
ala mode decoupaging decay
his cut-paper layers grace anoint
no longer anonymous walls
stencilist C215’s “simply a cat”
defies sourpusses not to smile—see
heaven art yes art with style
the banality of poverty held at bay
pureed souffléd life wolfed-down
colors synced
spray-cannoned Lothario’s like David Walker
entrance Picasso’s on the brink,
Romani-hearted paint peddlers
of the Republique
- street beggars & tourists cant
Thom Thom’s décollage rip-cuts
the billboard scene titillates the unseen
—culture-lovers—can-canned Lautrec’s
bedded with Che Guevara politics
come tilt with the masse
come play your part
in Montmartre
near Pigalle on Boulevard de Clichy
where wicked pissers defy
cliché
First Published in Clockwise Cat January 2015
This worrying view
Today on earth
Is it the end of life
For all it's worth
An angry sky
Overhead
Cold blues
Atmosphere dead
Clouds of gas
From interstellar space
Stratosphere breached
Alien face
But out of the hue
A face in the clouds
Nebula seeker
Her shroud crowds
This nebulae
Of particle dust
Energy of gas
The seeker combusts
Angry exchange
In our skies above
Two galactic entities
Hemispherical shove
As the sky quietens
A bright star dares
To reveal it's place
As we look up and stare
Calmness oozes
As the seeker sleeps
Gentle rains fall
The sky in tribute weeps
.
A Sonnet for Jayne
O,'Tis such a rare and beauteous thing
Amidst the turmoil,who can explain
That which inspires a man's soul to sing,
Or to reflect its light in loud refrain.
Were the stars so sullen before we met?
Did both the moon and sun forswear to shine?
For I could roam the whole of earth, and yet
What beauty gazed upon compares to thine?
With but the lightest touch my heart combusts,
A whisper bids all other thoughts depart,
Ensnared within love's stormy throes and gusts,
With passion found, does life then truly start?
I pray thee say it's me whom you adore
Or let me go so I may die once more.
It scorches; it sears
It burns in the veins
It maddens; it deranges
It gives exquisite pains
It entices; it provokes
It lures to its lair
It boils; it combusts
It lays the heart bare
It consumes; it exhumes
The forbidden dreams
It demands; it commands
That you follow its schemes
It explodes; it erupts
In a firework display
It throbs; and pulsates
You can’t get away
It moans; it screams
It gives you no choice
It pants; it groans
It gives love a voice
It’s passion; it’s desire
It’s pure ecstasy!
It’s wonder; it’s magic
Come live it with me.
I need to trust
Before everything combusts
I try my best
But then there's another test
I need to quit thinking the worst
Or we will be hurt
Trust is a hard thing
That it sometimes feels like a bee sting
How do I trust
That it's needed to be discussed
I get a bad feeling
That some things feel unrevealing
Will I ever learn to trust
That I feel some disguss
Edie cries for everyone, thrown into bins
Dylan cried the blues
Joni parted yellow curtains
At The Chelsea this afternoon
overpaid prophets,
socialites and sattelites collide.
Take me away
bring me back to that Chelsea.
Broken free will combusts,
change your frame,
carry a shudder
but hold on so tight,
grasp irrelevant notions.
Keep everything at bay,
when the facade crumbles
you'll fall apart.
Nothing keeps you up.
When you were living in The Chelsea
I would walk by everyday.
When the glamour of it fades
you are empty and gone,
your blood wont flow
and you'll break down.
When you realize you aren't whole anymore.
Twenty eight, seventy one.
Faded.
When you trust too much.
Curse inscrutable highways for their immortality,
behind limps the past of desolate reality;
perceived with a hindsight too late for us all,
ahead only graveyards, shadowed by nightfall.
Bug burst emotions, martyred on the screen,
their blood wiped away as if it had never been,
dust devils with sermons to howl at the land,
spew gravel and guilt at the hopeless and damned.
And I drive like a madman and feel snapping bone
fragment in my ribcage yet never atone
for the sins I laid on you, the veins that I bled
hating fate and myself with my heart all but dead.
Out of control speeds this driverless shell
with promises broken and dreams shot to Hell,
an ocean of tears will not say how I feel
heading nowhere with no one behind the wheel.
My poor love yet combusts with a gasoline purge,
undying yet drove with a tortuous surge
for the pain and remorse and the loss I now feel,
heading nowhere with no one behind the wheel.
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