your eyes with dense black lashes
casting colors of sapphire
wet with ensnaring passion
hook me beyond flight.
Life seeks stillness at the root,
craving unfolds lattice of creeping flare.
Two figures lean on the glimmer,
her eyes transfixed in chasm, his petrified,
their silence, a still violin chord
held between creation and end.
The tree is the bridge for them,
an aureate whisper in emptiness,
ensnaring their world in a dream.
The void gleams with potential,
where love gilded by eternity
waits to become a memory.
In the maze captured on canvas
life is spun from bronze boughs
where past and future entangle
within a frail frame of mistake,
but spring air drips love on leaves,
in the tree of life flowers bloom again.
(Inspired by The Tree Of Life by Gustav Klimt)
SALMA
She was unlike your ordinary gal
She was classy pretty and petite
She had an ensnaring personality
She had all the sort curves so nice
She had me imagining quite a lot
She made me go gagas and gigaga
She was a bat to the co bi oriented
She loves me in her own unique way
She made me forgo alot in persuit
She made me yearn and long for her
She was content to my touch n feel
She is that girlie love never forgotten
She was all the essence of Angelica
She was an angel in human skin see
#Salma254One4Luv
An unseen lamp hidden in the realm of the mind
someone kindles to light up the dark gaps of thought.
Unperceived, it creates the beams of contemplation,
illumines the concealed pathway of the destined journey.
The paused thoughts create an intricate mental fresco,
the time transcendence makes it ostensibly self-radiant,
enmeshing the soul within the maze of the craving ego
that designs the forlorn corridor for the lonely journey.
As the lamp gets extinguished by the self-created gale,
awareness is lost in the abysmal depth of darkness.
The willful psyche clings to the sense of entrapped self,
getting confined within the bubble of illusion.
The obsessive free-will seemingly dormant,
enwraps the misty mind with an unreal veil,
for the free-rule tenets morph the ego into a trap
in the sphere of the fantasized self-deception.
In the ensnaring realm of fabricated passion
the cage of self-image captures the deceptive being.
As life swings on the cradle of the lingering time,
reflective pause causes the polarity interchange of acuity.
The sinking sun is now undone,
the sky is fading red
and shadows prowl neath cloak and cowl
for midnight lies ahead.
Beyond the heap, the honchos sleep
with bloated bellies fed;
for, yes indeed, no one's in need,
at least, that's what they've said.
Amongst the ones that hunger shuns,
in day's retreating tread,
are spiders black ensnaring snacks
while spinning silken thread.
But as it stands, in conquered lands
a famine reigns instead
where kids at noon, collapse and swoon
on stones they call a bed.
With aching eyes they fantasize
and dream of gingerbread,
and after while, they wake and smile,
now dining with the dead.
A
sexy
blonde bombshell
fresh and footloose
notoriously
enticing, ensnaring
dragged me by my nose-ring
bewailing, bemoaning made me
walk down the aisle towards the altar
intentionally intimidating.
Amazing, breathtaking, charismatic damsels
ensnaring fierce, gallant heroes into jaded knights
languishing malingerers, nincompoops,
ostracized plebeians.
Question rises surely then—
Undeniably verily, why?
Xenial yeomanly zeal!
Encouraged by hefty gusts from wind,
Maple swept his wide reaching branches,
ensnaring half moon in the wooded tangles of his arms.
Then heeding wind’s whispered advice
he teased and cajoled hapless moon
into shaking her silver dust down and all about
to glimmer wrap himself
to dust his dreary coat of bark
with tinseled silver shine.
All the while thinking to himself,
I really do prefer gold.
Poetry will not keep you warm
Not like a cat nestled between legs
But, it hunts down manic thoughts
Gnashes the static till the mind gives
Chases a thought till claws are bloody
Keeps you drenched in sweat
Yes, she mews for attention
Till its cries grate every nerve
Till I feed it words & want
Poetry keeps me squirming
Caught in a net skimming a deluge
Waiting for words to be hauled
The big catch ever escaping
Keeps me checking the line
Insisting I jump into cold waters
Foolishly like Ahab chasing a tail
Sadness is my white whale
Mad with promises holey
Poetry is a leaky bucket
Catching the rain of words
Within depression's storm
Coming like a cat with a pail
Impossible and torrential
Ensnaring me for an hour
Keeps me back for seconds
Promising an easy catch
Cold and slippery
Darkness dances on my doorstep
But I'm not about to let it in
The darkness will pound and howl
And even curse me to oblivion
But that door remains shut
No way will I be fooled
Ever again
And as shooting stars rain
Across the night sky
I hear the song of the universe
Even over the calls
Of the darkness
Dancing all alone on my doorstep
Mad that I refuse to tango
Angry over a broken plastic flamingo
A sign of toxic friendship
Forgotten
On the doorstep
But I refuse to be weak again
And give in
Because the darkness
Envelops and overwhelms
A cascading casket of cosmic callousness
Ensnaring like a heavy blanket
So when you see me
Standing in front of the door
You may see a single tear
And a hand on the doorknob
As darkness dances on my doorstep
I'm (not) about to let it in
A flowing stream had inevitably given way.
To gently rest and recover in quiet splay.
Of the nectar stream of her fantastic brain.
Neural links coagulated on stale sustain.
Savor pulled loaves over a roaring fire.
Her leading center was a charcoal wire.
Thoughts went up in flames on the grate.
Darkened in a frigid kettle of fear innate.
Prudently, all that remained was her gold jewelry.
A contracted charm has been reduced to currency.
Expectation on a high wire; garrotte and tightrope.
The act of tearing her scrawny startup to rope.
In a frantic endeavor to cut off the unique string.
She felt frustrated over the bug that ensnaring.
A heart made of glass
A piercing stare with the chill of ice
Discomfort permeates
Surrounded by walls
Words fall linked like chains
Binding and twisting
Ensnaring the innocent
Agonizing the haunted
Chisel man out of stone
Only to be broken to the bone
For it is a sin to feel
A curse to love
Born to be silent
His tears is the blood he sheds
And hatred
Is what gives him strength
In my bejeweled night sky gleaming seamless,
you glitter like the glowing full moon,
I soar in stardust on the wings of yearning
to get suffused with your sapphire hue.
In the rhythmic rhapsody of enticing wind,
the feathers of my fervent longing
flutter enthralled by the moonbeam of passion
within your halcyon halo mesmeric.
You make within my heart’s firmament
a turquoise pathway to glide away
across my somber sky as it crumbles and plunges
into a dark abyss filled with debris of despair.
In surging storm the sands of time blow ordained
in the parched desert of stark desolation,
the dunes of desire collapse disintegrated
in the cauldron of the crumpled heart.
As the cloud of gloom melts on the transit,
and fills my desiccated oasis with tears,
I see the radiance of the blue moon pale
emit the last charm of ensnaring femme fatale.
______________
August 8, 2021
A Brian Strand 1094 Contest
To live in the embraces of
of self-love
means
letting go
of the toxicity–
of the negativity–
of the disillusion–
of the fear–
and of the doubt.
All of these at one point
make us feel safe,
but the truth is
they will ensnare worth
like pestilence ensnaring breath.
Rans nets, which bind and trap.
Ensnare and incapacitate all who swim in the oceans of life
I tangle thy golden skeins.
Your pearlescent webs that move in the voids between the 9 dimensions.
Your webs of final fate that float and dance between the worlds.
Ensnaring everybody in the 9 planes and all existences
may your golden Webs ensnare the wrongs
done to me and right them.
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