Temporal Dilettante Journalist
David J Walker
no-thing need not name the nameless
breaks the morning in disguise
shakes the shame and wakes the shameless
quench tormented turbid eyes
the bootless errand realized
who shakes the hand but shuns the banquet
a polymath of nullity
a picnic spread on follies blanket
the argot of a fervent plea
omnifarious frivolity
dante sings symphonic anthems
measured meters latin chants
pardons plied to paphian sanctions
the queen retorts in satin rants
a paupers portion the monarch grants
bemoans the message minimalized
To no one in particular,
but everyone out loud
What you portend as Poetry,
should never make you proud
The words are so revealing,
of what’s not inside your head
Your heart lies soundly sleeping,
there forever in your bed
The words you do disservice,
as the rhyme you then defame
The couplets maimed and slaughtered,
with free verse then just the same
With your voice not flat or tinny,
maybe you should try to sing
Because verse as you now write it
—is a bee that cannot sting
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)
The Dilettante Diaries: "Finding Lost Keys on the Steppes of White Ivory"
Where do you place your hands
When the sands of time
Slip through the 4th
and like reading braille
you silently derail
to touch burning
black keys
on white ivory
you go about
removing cold hands
from the warm pockets
of trapped complacency
looking for
double sixes
roll the dice
tumble the love cup
upside down
soft-sucked
sugar cube
black tea leaves
soak up your
bespoke wet dream
slam danced
you're romanced
up against graffiti
walls, you
take a chance on
shadow dancing
with another hand
tired of shuffling decks
cutting cards with
Half-hitched knots
and sinking boats
that pass for
tiger sharks
playing for
white ivory
on the cool
Siberian Steppes of
silent aching skin
shimmering
secrets sans
translucency
and buzzing bees
burning
stings
the wanting
humming silently
secrets and
all those
lost black burning keys
within …
(Lovejoy-Burton/October 2018)
The Dilettante Diaries: "Love in Motion"
Sanguine Soul finds Mate
Magnetic Mate finds Soul
Poetry
Love in Motion
(Lovejoy-Burton/September 2018)
"My heart is like a singing bird". Christina Rossetti
The Dilettante Diaries: "The True Romantics"
Once cages are open
the True Romantics
dance their dance
of Freedom
Hidden Keys
Swallows
air beneath
their wings
(Lovejoy-Burton/September 2018)
"I love you the more in that I believe you had liked me for my own sake and for nothing else." John Keats
"I love you more than my own skin." Frida Kahlo
"Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced." John Keats
"Kiss me and you will see how important I am." Sylvia Plath
"I am in you and you in me, mutual in divine love." William Blake
“Don't look at me in that tone of voice.” Dorothy Parker
1.
"Giving In"
Club Kuru
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FEFwRSjfHk8
The Dilettante Diaries: “BEE”
Love
Joy
Bee
“BE”
“B” he says to his 2nd.
“Tiddler B” he says to his 3rd.
“…….B” he says to his 1st.
….if
he could just “B”
more than “She”
under earth
he would
B just B
Love. Walking
Love. Breathing
Love. Seeking
Love. Talking
Love. Listening
Love. Giving
Love. Loving
Love. Being
Love. Freeing
Forever
for Her
he’d just
Be
swim into her last breath
with
Peace
Love
Joy
Be
(Lovejoy-Burton/September 2018)
for LJB/VCB
18.9.71
"Seams Sewn in Souls Strung like Pearls Cast out into the World"
In each of us
a pearl
God
the unknown
embryonic
soul
In each of us
the common
thread
Seams Sewn in Souls Strung like Pearls
Cast out into the World
Different beds
Same Road
Home
(Lovejoy-Burton/September 2018)
1. https://www.nytimes.com/2018/05/15/style/sunni-colon-music.html
“God is a Woman”
Romance should worship Her
Always
See how God grows
in the Woman
Different windows
Different Seeds sown
Black Iris blooms
Today is Now into Tomorrow
(Lovejoy-Burton/September 2018)
1. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Za_N28331Qw
The Dilettante Diaries: “Freshwater”
This is how it begins
Opposite side of the chequered board
Black and White, a game to win
The 50 Move Rule flirts consequences
of a burning mind
Through windows
Freshwater
is now lapping at his shores
She calls his bluff
Menu: Sardinian
he’s a soft Diamond in the Rough
Two travellers -
A Writer and another Writer
change course,
Two travellers on a journey
turn around, tack inwards towards the other
change the plot, rhyme and verse
Freshwater
The 50 Move Rule flirts consequences
of a burning mind
Opposite side of the chequerboard
This is how it begins
Black and White, a game to win
No Deer in the Cross Lights
She smiles
He grins
Freshwater
Lunch and a swim
(Lovejoy-Burton/September, 2018)
"Slow Air", Still Corners
https://youtu.be/h10-Q4vJGVY
1. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fifty-move_rule
2. Pilu, Freshwater
Dilettante photographer
You have the eyes of your mother
A tigress A hunter
Seeking beauty in its lair
Be it fleeting transient
Chasing rainbow variables
Seizing its essence
Capturing its soul
Dragging home the trophies
Orchestrating your sanctuary
Your mosaic of riches
Your inner sanctum
Making it your own
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on February 15, 2018 for contest SUNRISE AND SUNSET sponsored by SILENT ONE - RANKED 1ST
Trimp Was Declared A Dilettante
Trump was a chimp declared a dilettante;
Who had ended up becoming a confidant;
A chip off block;
Bunch of crock;
With horrible things us he had to haunt.
Jim Horn
Born all full of corn
As a certified, bona fide woman of a grown-up sixteen,
she light-stepped with grace thru the baroque castle.
She wanted to tell her Father of the déjà vu she gleaned
at last night’s élan party scene with a man who dazzled.
She gave her fantasies carte blanche to freely travel
for she was but a love dilettante, still romance green
and unsure what her anomaly feelings could mean.
She found the King, Father, leaning on an avant-garde mantel,
his manner ennui, despite the cacophony of swords at cavil.
Knowing her, he said, "No talk of new suiters, many already battle."
... CayCay Jennings
January 25, 2018
I am a dilettante of 17th Century Baroque,
loving the elan style of this extravagant;
and avant garde art form full of boldness.
The gaudy ornamentation given wings,
and the artist wild carte blanche.
I never have ennui when at the gallery,
and wandering I am filled with deja vu.
Until one day I spotted an anomaly,
in a painting that I declared not bona fide;
oh, what a cacophony I caused that day.
___________________________
January 17, 2018
Poetry/Verse/A Baroque Dilettante
Copyright Protected, ID 18-9831-63-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, 10 Words, 10 Lines 2
sponsor, Silent One
Second Place
With vast logolepsy, I bleed my shaken pen on vacant paper.
Ready to howl without opening my mouth as it's locked.
My sheet catches human salt water while I ooze out my head's vapor.
The odor of my consciousness's dew finally sticks onto each sentence - albeit it was mocked.
Because I'm a dilettante with a want for the transparent screaming to be blocked.
~
Written On: July 24th, 2017
Contest: The Sound Of Pages In The Night
Sponsor: Sara Kendrick
Won: 12th Place
Oh the thrill of being aloof,
untouchable by the mundane
The Dilettante loves this place
The throngs of people to wander through
Sampling strengths and weaknesses
Always looking to bring down the haughty
But to build a desire in the weak
to have that power over their passions
to create that allure at will
That is his calling.
Many a supple soul
has fallen into his eyes
Those lips that speak so softly
Whispering things the heart longs to hear
He knows that he is missing something
The puzzle of his heart incomplete
The pieces not quite fitting
He continues his quest
through the crowds in the square
Until he finally finds whispering eyes
and falls into them.
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