hey my best friend
bohemian queen
twelve reasons to dance in the scene
gothic or emo queen
we dance we are seen
Ecliptic love
my best friend juniper tree you gave me eyes to see
we are bards in the kings court
I am a jester who laughs free
spirit of love sings inside of me
Flies love figs, oaks, elms, and willows; we know.
They play hide-and-seek with leaves tinged with snow.
In their purblind fondness, our hearts get sparked?
Do they flee from us because we're crook-backed?
Around us, wingers of every kind fly.
We often love their melancholic cry.
Isn't each fly as fine as a butterfly?
Shouldn't each be the master of the sky?
The colours and vibes of flies are versatile.
Doesn't their existence, yet, appear futile?
Why should frail flies be weighed down by lures?
Why should life move around ecliptic blurs?
May your annual commemoration
of the winter solstice
with one of the Earth's poles
at its maximum tilt from the sun
be abundant with innumerable manifestations
of felicity friends good food and fun
and may the next full circuit
of the ecliptic engender
a propensity toward
bestowing plenteousness too
and may unparalleled prosperity
be forthcoming
and settle like snowflakes
gently upon you
(Mulberry trees talk among themselves
About the butterflies that ignore them)
Butterflies love oaks, elms, and willows; we know.
They play hide and seek with their leaves tinged with snow.
Do they flee from us because we are crook-barked?
Around us, lethargic crows and eagles fly.
They think we cherish their melancholic cry.
Aren't, yet, in their blunt fondness too, our hearts sparked?
Our stems, leaves, blossoms, and fruits are versatile.
Do our toils to feed frail silkworms go futile?
Why should we be tied down by uncertain lures?
Aren't dragonflies and hoverflies precious too?
Shouldn't, to each creature, our concern be true?
Isn't existence beyond all ecliptic blurs?
"Just breathe, you're having your breath taken, 'Aweigh anchors away,' the blessed follows," ... by The Poet
The unnoticeable lulls a fancy
as obscurity stares at a lost
such are promotions
of a trance
stages all ages
a momentous chance
for lifetime promise of romance
shattering glimmering
convinces glimpses
alarm bells--"Hush little baby don't--OH NO!"
"Release the Kraken ... or mices ... an ant if you have any?"
She comes, A ROWER?
It's The Specifics of the Ocean
Those islanders will come out - rigging
and surfing, Aurora, in a pipeline ... she's a dreamer ...
OH NO! WIPEout, its ecliptic ... but there at the ocean's edge
o'er the horizon, Aurora, RISE
the shacks are empty, the fields aplenty
The Drums of the Islands, Aloha Alive.
If fusty galaxies twirl like Shakespearian poetry,
is astrology a tragedy or a comedy?
Are there clusters of uppercase in outer space,
the remnants of metaphors that broke up like meteors?
My universe is full of orphaned verse,
and perverse alien names all have hyphens.
Quatrains swirl across the ecliptic plane,
and sonnets streak by like comets.
Argh! Where’s a pencil - too late - the thought’s gone.
Ever lose something essential - cause you couldn’t find a pencil?
It’s ok though, it’s not just me and not just you.
Black holes are swallowing Haiku too.
.
.
Songs for this:
Hypnotized by Fleetwood Mac
Theme for a Nude Beach by The B-52's
.
.
I saw a line with something like, “universe of orphaned verse,” in a poem a few days ago. The idea of celestial words rhyming with writing terms ‘mused’ me. I’ve been looking for the author to credit them (hello, computer searches). If you know the guilty party, please let me know.
.
.
*No, this is NOT a sonnet, it’s just the name
Forget-me-not thy scent hast taste of time,
who tolls naught for thee, attend harken chime.
Courtesies yond the proverbial realm.
acquired vesper's affections, overwhelm.
Cupid cedes ecliptic earth's lauded star,
Purple Vanda Orchids in gild's wake are
hauling affianced light 'neath golden rays,
velvety mosaic succeeding phase.
Proxy promises bonny lavenders
induce flex a princess's verbs. Challengers
spealing gingerly the princely petals,
submit an amethyst crown ... all's settles.
A stately champ, amaranthine Vandas,
the garlands of Purple Heart's--lifespan 'twas.
S tars perfectly align [cohabitation]
e ndless-spaces posing, [a-vast] cosmic, ecliptic, dance of
[c ast], at it's (station parting as chaotic entropy).
P ulling g a laxies together, a [tapestry] in intrinsic entrance of (separate positions adorning culled existence).
A fter eons of celeStial [tide], weaving fate's intricate [thread of] abode to abide (stretching partition arearing capacities extension).
C osmic wonders emerge, in this theater that the universe has advanced as (spreading propellant aortic celled expanse) .
E nergy transfered, transposedly, written and read as (s-ystem p-artition a-spiring c-onnection e-xistensibly.)
A regiment of sunflower golden disks
Turns heads
Assembled all summer for the daily
Love ambush
Upon the five o’clock rush
At the I-496 interchange
Home
Of pizza joints hotels and gas pumps
Who had the last laugh?
To plant in the highway construction zone with public money
This patch of bumblebee bonnets?
Whoever you are you restored my faith
Now
Under the October sky that’s held no sun
Not even for a single day
A type of autumn jewelry robbery
The crumpled sunflowers
Give up and fall face-first into the mud
Get back on one knee
With a wonder if any soul ever did see
Their trance upon the shining orb’s
Coming and going?
Yes, yes I did! Every exhausting end of the day!
I want to park my car on the ecliptic ramp
Fall from my tires and bend with the dying flowers
Faceless all of us
Reassure ourselves
Light is still up there somewhere traveling
Hidden as it is
Like another light perpetually cycling
From root to heart to crown
Earth to forest seas to heaven
The sun abound again and again.
I let go the moon, but keep it's mystic glow,
I let go the stars, but keep their pixie dust
I let go the day, but keep it's embraced night
I let go the sky, but keep it's sobbing clouds
I let go the breeze, but keep it's chilling bite
I let go the lake, but keep it's frozen dreams
I then let you go, and I keep your memories
deep in a rosebush guarded by it's thorns.
I let go the ache, but keep it's remnant tears.
ecliptic secrets of few lost emblazoned years
As love turned to forgotten hate and apathy
I let them all go again, but keep irrigating hope
Without you ,mi amor, my heart levitates
I let go being alive... but just keep existing.
°*•***•***•*°*°*•***•*°*°*•***•*°
June’s dreams
you’re the guide
"meet & greet"
the ecliptic zoo
a must-see!
a new five worldless day
goes on parade
these planets never stand still
click on Mars to tune up
see Mars square Pluto
as it crawls through Capricorn
truth freedom and that
need to capture the planet
of love we had
pay attention to retrograding
Mercury will be found
become mythology
find your inner mama bear
June is our goal for
the best telescope
Saturn will
articulate our focus
to take a New Moon
in 3 weeks Mercury goes direct
will it continue
its tour with me?
Let's message the universe
friend Uranus on Facebook
tweet from Saturn’s rings
listen to Jupiter laughing at the solar system
This is it: Friday!
let it rain diamonds
let the planetary parade begin
let the Sun cook the celestial crab
°*•***•***•*°*°*•***•*°*°*•***•*°
*Image of Purple Vanda Orchids Floral & Lei by EFC & Sziv.
Prolix Pageantry
Pulsations of veinuous royalty
courtesies yond the proverbial realm.
Majestic interludes flamboyantly
acquired vesper's affections, overwhelm.
Cupid cedes ecliptic earth's lauded star,
hauling affianced light neath golden rays.
Purple Vanda orchids in gild's wake are
velvety mosaic succeeding phase.
Proxy promises bonny lavenders
pealing gingerly as princely petals
induce a princesses verbs. Challengers
submit an amethyst crown ... all settles.
Hawaii's champ, amaranthine Vandas
laurel leis, like Purple Heart's ... lifespan 'twas.
2022 June 01
*2nd Place*
Purple Flowers
~~Nayda Ivette Negron Flores: Judged 2022 June 25
*HMS: 10 syllables per x 14 lines = 140 syllables
RZ: RhymeScheme; abab, cdcd, efef, gg.
In hindsight, I’ve always kept my mind right,
I only lose sleep at night over the that I write,
it’s like the weight on Atlas’ shoulders, are you hearing what this rap is,
a fight against the controllers, modern day john the Baptist,
but I ain’t selling a savior, it’s too late for later,
my labor of love, Ep the revelator,
takin my time, like im taking in drugs, chill Doug,
never underestimate the evil that man do,
and never take on more than you can handle,
I got a weed based diet, along with scripting the ill ,
I am the Ecliptic, sun worship, if it don’t rhyme, don’t force it,
spray cans on the brain, Ramo on the train tracks,
’s never been the same as way back,
people fade, the brain finds a new pathway to explain,
why the fuk life is how it is,
society is aimed at making you feel powerless,
9-5, ain’t that some ,
but you do what you have to when your passionate,
Randy Orton pose like a statue, Ricky Morton arm drag,
I’m opposed to the fascist posing radical, I’m burning els with Cobra Command and Zartan,
they say I thyme like an animal, I say I’m more of a sage, ageless stoic,
but I put it down nice, that’s the meaning of a poet.
Early morning blue sunny skies askew
turn to white grays on piggyback
once light breezes that blew
gentle in and out the trees comeback
now race wildly out to the sea renewed.
The colors with their brilliant reflective glow
edge toward a harvest moon and celestial equator
rising, falling, lilting in discretionary phase flow
wavering, clinging to the shortening day curators
lingering on equality of night day summer-winter throws.
An ecliptic sun moving in south-easterly directions
marking time and space and revolution years
inching hurriedly a pause for momentary corrections
not holding back or hesitating regardless of joy or tears
on a chartered course through seasonal deflections.
Returning to the calendar of September days
swiftly moving from month to year and decades
throughout wonderment and marvelings of man at play
history repeated forever on parade
the autumnal equinox marks the years and the days.
Oreo Planet sleeps above the event horizons deep
Black holes, dark matter, form between the light
Vanilla stars follow Orion’s galactic path on course
Along the ecliptic everything is night
Planet Oreo stands alone in clouds of wonder
A mystery in the universe as something baked
Is that a small unleavened cake, crisp, flat and sweet?
Is that a cookie floating in the distant mist oh so deep?
Mirrors reflect the brilliance of the sun
Life is black and white and sometimes dumb
Oreo stands alone in cosmic clouds of wonder
Transitioning from cookie company into what?
Oreo is not just a planet but a cookie politic
“Transgenders exist” and that’s enough
So have another lick and don't confuse it with a bite
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