O’ Mother!, take me back at last, receive
—(unclasped arms as vast as mine)—my embrace;
this longing, laughing love, the proof and grace
of my abiding for your shores.—I grieve
the lasting loss that shear struck—do believe
my grave and groveling art of disgrace,—
when ten years had but barely found their place
in my life. As with you then, now I leave
behind the home I’ve called as such awhile,
and answer your unbroken imperative:
anew with you! once more to your sweet heart!
I—through my candid, unshadowed smile—
effervesce—(so this is what it means to live!)
a new part! a chance for a novel start!
RIVER DEEP
As clear
as crystal,
living waters
effervesce the fountain
of life
Note:(ichthys), or XIesoûs Khristós, Theoû Huiós, Sot?r;translates into English as 'Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior'
How beautiful are April, May and June.
All give enchantment as they come and go.
Each graces me by light of sun or moon.
Sun kisses earth so warmly with its glow.
Oh, April, May and June – their days I love.
All give enchantment as they come and go.
April’s fragrance always I want more of.
May arrives. The sweet perfume keeps coming.
Oh, April, May and June – their days I love.
Early spring – birds winging and bees humming,
yes, come late spring – I’m just as happy too.
May arrives. The sweet perfume keeps coming.
I ask you – how can anyone feel blue?
Why, even by spring’s end, I effervesce!
Yes, come late spring, I’m just as happy too.
June ushers in the summer with finesse.
How beautiful are April, May and June.
Why, even by spring’s end I effervesce!
Each graces me by light of sun or moon.
May 1, 2022 for L. Milton Hankins' An Original Terzanelle Poetry Contest
Development laps at emaciated canvas
Exponential images whisper a thousand words
Chemical dip shifts generic into candid
Graphic effigy given vigour by a brief submerge
Slippery minutes expand sqare memoir
Retrieved from squalid pool, jumped illustrious
Pregnant with wisdom from an embalm
Faith puts detail on paper basic miscellaneous
Source of light firms fine composition
Blankness bask enables solid ice to effervesce
Supernatural Spirit delivered christens
Fermented parchment finds miracles manifest
15th February
Philosophic Rearrangement
in the bouquet of my muse’s garden
all poems are not created equal
some are written with broad panoramic strokes
others unveil inner secrets their bitter tears
some poems barely skim the ripples on the surface
while others dig down spiraling depths of darkness
some effervesce with ritzy champagne bubbles
others resemble remnants swept off a saloon floor
from prized rare roses to common milkweed
all my poetic inklings are not created equal
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~A POEM BORN~ 2020
AP: 2nd place 2020, 3rd place 2021
froth breathes effervesce into daydreams, you caress - - -
i await silent lullabies,
fluently becoming myself as you become…
PERFECT
solaced by the strong of heart;
breathless from resonating
echoes of impulse,
forever needing your fingertips
frilling down my barren nape-
the softest kiss you’ve ever kissed,
and
the brownest eyes you’ve ever seen;
demure as a fawn in late spring,
whisped away into your reverie mist
aurora hues of poppy fields,
your touch as vibrant as Dali-
your skin beautiful,
but
not as beautiful as your essence;
the fervor of your felicity feeds my fire-
as we immerse under the sheets in desire
froth breathes effervesce...
into daydreams as we coalesce
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
12.25.19
Your suicide
Wrests the act from the hand
So that fire can envelop the bottle
And skyward
And bright
And living
Technicolour dances in extremes.
We effervesce and burst
We rise up and with a fury
A million or more
We wilt back onto the vine
Waiting to be harvested and
Transformed into feed for machinery
The blocks and the slabs and
The blocs and the Slavs
And the pointed jagged teeth
Of a rusted saw three thousand times the size of the moon
We jigsaw and puzzle and pile up
And bric-a-brac away the inheritance
Of dead men coming into dead men’s fortunes
We store up and cascade
And chisel
At the face of a dam
As a plague of locusts descends
Within the imagery of Uncle Sam
We shoot in succession
And with twenty-eight barrels
We could split the world to pieces
And commit
Several of the greater nations
Turn and shoot and all goes black
As the litter is circulated
In samizdat and under purple cloth.
O, Basilisk keeping across the unsinkable surface of water,
desperately fleeing the terrible hunger of monstrously ravenous mouths,
supported by ripples of light,
as adrenaline, faith and delight appear to allow the impossible task of traversing the river of night, as the bluegills below the remarkable sight of a lizard escaping a death of forsaken repose effervesce with a watery awe,
is an ingenuous talent as yours unremittingly earned?
Aug 28, '18
Hungered for a taste
of your essenced elixir,
drunken inhalations
of your French poetry
a splendiferous whirl
of time & space 'tween
darkly scented moons
and sun's adoration,
blithe starry nights
amidst meditative new
dawn's effervesce,
spirited of the heart,
gleaned in the soul,
yearnings of another
chapter's paradise
universal experiences
etched of hourglass sand,
written upon endlessly
chimerical verses
wildflower gardens drenched
of dandelion's plum wine
swooning under a
hypnotic scripted spell,
intoxicating power
of unchained symphonies
dancing amongst skies'
released euphoria
resonating in a song's
reprised melodies,
breathlessness of delirium's
celestial pauses
in vaporous breezes'
unfurling undulation,
captivated by rhythmic
destiny reverberating in
loins' pleasurable calling
quenched of sacred
offering's quell
transcending earthly
persuasions' rhyme,
let me lick the nectar from
your poesy's insatiable lips,
sweet mercy's healing
captured in rapturous
surrender's reawakening ~
Someone left a seed to grow
on barren fertile land.
From seed to tree
for you and me
Its beauty our command.
Someone planted grape vines
along a broken fence.
Now our glasses bubble
with fragrant effervesce.
I see waves of rye and wheat
dancing in bright sun.
Someone plowed those fields for us,
food for everyone.
Sun and sky and clouds above,
who placed those wonders there?
No one standing on this earth
dare try to walk on air.
Moon and stars and lightning bolts,
silver way on high!
What amazing majesty
just to please our eye.
So who then took their time for this?
Does anybody know?
Let me think with all my might.
No one I think—although.....
Written May 16, 2016
A set of siblings was in an effervesce
Of blossoms and bubbles.
This world to each was a bundle of joy.
They laugh and played like two girls should.
Somewhat different, as each became older, they would be captivated by desires.
There in a beautiful presence they thrived.
The blossoms were called The Country of Beautiful Florets.
In bubbles, this Country eternally occurred to exist.
God would choose this Country as his Kingdom.
These sibs were of royal blood.
Each emotionally governed the people ways.
Both espoused on the same day.
During one diurnal course, their world became dark
To reveal their purpose.
The bubbles formed a body of knowledge.
The blossoms would transmogrify humanity.
Yet the Country would revolve
Evolutionary to rebuild a new universe.
Worldly prophesy escaped
From a cosmopolitan figurehead.
God had redefined
As known!
The twins were part of his Throne.
Realm in matrimony within the brotherhood.
_______________________________________________|
Penned March 26, 2015!
Ma Dame, I say to you
as it was written hundreds of years ago
by Francois de la Rochefoucauld,
"True love is like ghosts,
which everybody talks about
and few have ever seen."
And now this poem for you
in my own words....
Amoureaux, the fruits of my passion
are yours, and now
how I delight in your arrival
my hallowed woman
you among the gardenias that blossom...
Pour Vous, I would with my last breath
exhale my love for you
on that day may it be bitter cold
so you could see what you mean to me...
Je t'aime, in my mind
where my thoughts are born
in my heart where emotions reside
and in my soul where dreams become...
Je vous vois, under the Spanish Moss
where the throng of song birds burst into rhapsody
filling the echoing evening effervesce
with the elation of their love songs...
Mon amour, if you this night descend into the abyss
of my loneliness, with the touch of your lips
plants in the moonlit garden will burst into bud...
Je le ferai, inhale your perfume in bold enjoyment
as when one turns the pages of a sacred book
breathes the scent of mystic violets...
Contest: Pieces
All in Pieces
I turn the cold, sparkling, silver knobs
and the raging hot water splatters up the porcelain.
Milky bubbles effervesce the scent of lavender,
and I plunge into the baptism of fire.
The water scalds and blisters my skin.
Let it burn.
Let it hurt.
Let me feel my flesh ripple and peel to the surface.
Poached parchment—
memories to be shed.
Blood streams from my wounded skin.
Your acidic stain is replaced with
raw, fragrant flesh.
I’ve sipped my tea then let it fester
Now I search in vain for a wrigleys extra
The seminars over but I’m stuck to my seat
Preferring death to the “meet and greet”
Just how does ‘one’ learn to talk shop
stop...(look, listen)
then thoughtfully digest?
Press the flesh
feign genuine interest
On a range of subjects I loathe and detest
Sparkle (effervesce)
Then work the room like a stale breath sex pest
You’re oozing B eau as you move through the room
Your Pink shirt and pin stripes pre-ordained in the womb
Your hairline
your i-phone
your chin like a shoe
Still when I grow up I’d like to be you
corroded remnants effervesce content through chamois buffed memories
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nancy Jones
9/8/11
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