Curios Poems | Examples

A Journal

He found the journal on the train
Of a young little girl with no name
He sat there reading through her thoughts
Of dragons and Lions in their mighty roars
Or the golden apple that was caught

Each page filled with dreams
Some fairytales with glorious queens
While other thoughts circled around the naive plots
Then he found her wish of becoming an astronaut 

The space and the aliens 
And the unknown universe and battalions
The growing thought until he dropped the journal
The last page now jingled
Leaving him with a curios mind
Just like a child and the memories that bind

Fireplace

An edifice built in gray stone
by careful hands that are long dead,
the mortar gray from decades known,
insides soot-stained from blazes red.
Mantle stone broad across the top,
sporting nick-knacks and curios,
small nails stick out, from them will drop
the stockings, come the Christmas snow.
Long vents draw air the blaze will warm,
then force out to heat half the house,
to give respite when raging storms
knock the furnace’s power out.
The crackle inside beats back the gloom,
this fireplace makes the whole room.

Heirlooms

Some families have heirlooms
Passed down often through the years
So their legacy will not be one
That somehow disappears.

Whether jewelry or furniture
Or curios or art,
Certain objects in a family
May play a vital part.

There might even be some squabbles,
For inheritance is rife
With the problems of possessions
Valued in a person’s life.

Though my heirlooms weren’t many
From the family reservoir,
I am proudly in possession
Of my grandma’s cookie jar.

Iron

A time to rake; to search embers,
to pore over resurrected,
fire-damaged relics.

On an ancient shore
driftwood, fagots, and reeds
are heaped up onto a pyre of time.

After the fire there is a sorting.
a probing for talismans and trinkets.
Before the flames, flesh had hidden them,
in its open wounds.

An iron crucifix; smutter tarnished,
lays blackened by the quick flames.
It is held up to the sun,
by a tattered man of woe.

Death’s archeologist
wipes this soot-seared icon,
with a sweat-stained rag.

Other artifacts are long drowned,
they wait for the hands
of fishermen to haul them in,
to return them
to a modern-day Nazareth,

there, Islamic street traders
still sell religious curios
for Israeli shekels.

Coda

D   r    i      f       i        n         g

observations from faraway places
dreams drawn from Beta born curios
traveling through limitless faces
distant glow of conscious realities

from here I see
wedding rings around Neptune
        sleepwalking awake
          weightless again
          the ebb and flow
of Light year therapies
meditative monologues
threadbare Thetas
           my return Home
            Alone----together

Ethereal Virtuoso

“Ethereal Virtuoso”



keys passed
from tongue to tongue
strange kisses dealt
token time turning 

gone

useless words written
below whispers 
backward facing
closed minds

gone

feathers without quills
dance in silence
fall on breath
beating life 

evanescence
drawn up 
into unseen arms
you are worn 

as gossamer silk
they speak light
without words
anima universal

here 

you are unread, 
you are the notes
playing in the music
a new metronome

to write a new life
a true song

somnolent invocation
echoes from beyond 
mirrors watch you
bodies electric hum

doors open
doors close

something
from within 
ethereal virtuoso
mercurial curios

unknown
yet known

they call it
home

(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)



"God Knowledge" 
https://youtu.be/5nhQ2eRTH3k


“Open the Vortex” 
https://youtu.be/qK-Dmk-r6CY


"369 Divine Code"
https://youtu.be/jA_conleEqM

Hiku Jun 27

BODEGONES*

motifs of still life-
decorative curios
aesthetics assemble



* Still life in Spanish

The Poet

Her mind accumulates oddments and curios,
contrivances with strange linkages,
attachments that bolt unlikely parts together;
the mechanics of metaphysics.

Pieces of something she is sculpting or
assembling, or just waiting for,
a glimpse of a word-picture
too intricate to be entirely recalled
as a whole canvas.

She discovers these odd figments
on the leeched rim of vision,
where shapes are nameless.
Part of her mind
burns with the light of a kerosene lamp,
the other blazes too brightly.

Slowly she feels the inconceivable
creep upon her, imagines discovering 
the last transcendental piece 
of a scattered poem, the keystone.
Senses reach for a nexus
there are endless connections,
too many to grasp.

She realizes that her whole life
she has been building images
that can only be seen once,
once before their time, after that 
they are just
writing.

Vase Dream Ii Epicurious

I want a freshly baked kaiser roll 
Sliced in two with nice lean roast beef
Laid between so I can call it sandwich
Swiss cheese, tomato, Vidalia onion
(Sliced not chopped) with a dab of mayo
And horseradish sauce or hollandaise 
Vinegar/salt chips and crisp dill pickle
I have no money or tummy only me
Alone with my empty ceramic center
Dangling on the rail of a high rise complex
Waiting for a breeze to push me on or off
I am a pretty pink vase so have mercy on me
No ferns or flowers inside for company 
I am hungry for something good to eat
Curios but mostly epicurious in nature
Give me a sandwich for free as a favor
Perhaps I can pay you back on Tuesday
I can wish for something different
Vases have dreams too to fill the hollow

Ocean Mind

Ocean mind

Consider the mind like an ocean kind,
the depth and other side are invisible to the lights of mind.
The ocean creates, sustains and recycles,
accumulates and provides fresh water as natural miracles.
Thoughts are like this water, we need to survive,
in the body of water feeling alive. 

The curios mind wonders about the depth of sea,
it might brings some treasures to adore for all to agree.
Pearls of wisdom or knowledge of antiquity,
resources of nourishing values of certainty.
Rational stability with great effort enforced,
food for thoughts need to be endorsed. 

The shores of new worlds still to explore,
the mind wants to know what is beyond for more.
Facing the storms and elements to endure,
giving faith the ultimate test for sure.
Taken that courage to brave the unknown,
making possibilities the richness to know.

If love is the living water unfathomable and sweet high,
it will touch the impossibility to amplify. 
Magnanimous thoughts should be applied even in vain,
then motions are constant in the ocean of the brain.
The living waters is the soul’s adaptability,
giving the body all its rejuvenating possibility.

The Poet

He accumulates oddments and curios,
contrivances with strange gears,
attachments that bolt unlikely parts together.

Pieces of something he is structuring or
assembling, a mechanism
too intricate to be entirely recalled.

He discovers these devises
on the leeched rim of vision.
Part of his mind
burns with the light of a kerosene lamp.
He does not want to waste much light
on impossible projects,
yet slowly he feels the inconceivable
taking shape.

He imagines stumbling across
the last piece of a construct.
Fingers search for connections.

He realizes that his whole life
has been spent building something
once seen.

The Olive Door

I woke up but I was afraid to open my eyes,
The furniture was whispering at me to rise,
I felt uneasy in this cold gray room,
The branches swayed in the wind with force, 
I heard footsteps and motion from the rocking horse,
My name was being called in an unearthing way, 
I followed the sound until I came to the olive door,
My body and mind fighting inside me like war,
I shuffle inside too curios to turn around, 
My breath is labored and I feel spellbound,
The door shuts with strength now I am isolated,
Her eyes meet mine and she smiles with desire, 
I begin to sweat and burn like a wildfire,
I awake on the cold floor it’s almost dawn,
I look to my left I see the sun beaming in the light,
I look to my right and see the olive door in the moonlight.

Destiny

It all started with a riff,
                          And ended with a rift,
             Saw the beauty of ocean in those eyes,
             When it all ended with tears of ocean.

                    Were all your promises sham? 
                        Little did my heart knew 
            Frozen every moment my eyes saw you.

                         And your beatific smile
           Was saved as photograph in my heart 
      When everyone else were bedazzled by fame
             I was bedazzled at the sight of you.

              Though I wasn't addicted to curios
                    I was addicted to your eyes 
              And now hope became my destiny 
                  And YOU, my destination.

Kitschy, Corny Curios

seashell necklace, sand dollar candy dish
souvenirs bring the beach home 
kitschy, yet nostalgic

a kimo written March 31, 2017

Lost In the Dust

Such a curios thing this life can be
this life evolves around me
so individual
so piquant defined as personal
but still so very much like you

Still so much of you
in me

Apart from name and place
and the characters of face
we are identical
of form
and corpuscle
in hope
and emotional
such vast bridges span the distance between us

My love is no less than yours
in our sufferings we are equal
and by these truths we are bound indivisible

And we may all perish to the annals of time
we may all reunite in the spirits sublime
and we may all believe what we do, we must
all vanish in the presence
lost in the dust

But a part of me is a part of you
a testimony of love and human truth
in our children's eyes we will someday recognize
each other

• Short Curios Poems
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