AUTUMN REVERIE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
autumn comes as a
chariot of nature’s flame
woodland golds and browns
breathe in gold; feel it extend
deep into your very soul
autumn’s leaves will soon
rest upon the forest floor
my heart is drifting
like the gentle autumn winds
explores nature’s mysteries
Blossom Monyei is a poet, potentially from Liberia, as indicated by references to the Liberia Poetry Association and poems published within Facebook groups for spoken word and poetry according to All Poetry and Facebook groups. he has written poems like "Faded", "The Distance Peaks of love", and "Unshaken". One of his poems, "Sin," is available on All Poetry according to All Poetry.
Here's what is known about his work based on the provided search results:
"Faded": A poem that explores themes of value and loneliness, particularly in the context of success.
"The Distance Peaks of love": A poem that depicts a love interest separated by a great distance.
"Sin": A poem that reflects on struggles with faith and temptation.
"Unshaken": Another poem by Blossom Monyei, suggesting a theme of resilience.
"Liberia Poetry Association": The phrase "Liberia Poetry Association" appears in the context of the poem "Sin," indicating a possible connection to the Liberian literary community.
"Blossom Monyei - poet at allpoetry"
BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
While nibbling on French croissant so fine,
Audrey sipped coffee, feeling divine.
She struck a pose, twitched her chin,
The staff oohed, awed, gave a grin,
At bunny who dined with glamor and shine!
“Oh, daaaarlings,” she said with a flair,
“I’ll nibble on pink pearls, I swear!”
“I’m Holly Golightly,”
She said most contritely.
This dazzling bunny made Tiffany's rare!”
*"Breakfast at Tiffany's" is a 1961 romantic comedy film directed by Blake Edwards, starring Audrey Hepburn as Holly Golightly, a quirky socialite in New York City. The film is based on Truman Capote's novella and explores themes of love and identity. (Source: Wikipedia)
This posed a problem in ancient Loch,
As it’s not a canvas of Van Gogh.
When paint ran down my arm
While squashed and ground bugs harm,
I still labelled it ‘Woolly Epoch’.
CURATOR’S NOTE
Period: ‘Holocene epoch’. Medium: Bug pulp, cave soot, elbow grease. Description: In this seminal work, the artist explores the tension between modern chaos and primal innocence. The squashed insect motif suggests a commentary on the fragility of existence, while the arm-smudge technique is a bold rejection of bristle brushes.
The above is a pseudo note in line with the humour of the Limerick.
Iconic through the years
Herald Square fascination
Macy’s Herald Square
A store that everyone explores
Tourist and shopper alike can’t ignore
Merchandise assortments on every floor
Brands after brands galore
Known throughout the land
Some in hot demand
Only one Escalator or Elevator ride
Macy’s the Renaissance
Always gets the consumer response
The Herald Square store alone covers the entire block from Broadway to Seventh Avenue
Compulsive credit card spends
The bill will come at the end
Fashion with passion
Store stock sensation
Shop until you drop
Pace yourself
Just be satisfied
Don’t say you weren’t warned
Your credit card statement
Payment in the task to fulfill
Macy’s Star
You will be the celebrity shopper thus far.
Awed by myriad divine miracles
triumphant spirit lilts with thanksgiving
midst wonders that cascade from heaven
drawing me toward lunar radiance
inviting for faith-soared flight
while soul freely explores grand space
around serpentine mystery
glowing along firmament’s iridescence…
Here am I, worshipping midst praise*
the Creator of the universe
my Saviour and Lord!
*Psalm 150:1-2 Psalm 150:1-2 Praise ye the LORD. Praise God in his sanctuary: Praise him in the firmament of his power. Praise him for his mighty acts: Praise him according to his excellent greatness.
June 10, 2025
10th place, "YOUR CHOICE y" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 6/14/2025
Around the world
There are happenings
Events and Disturbances
Right here at home, Poets are gearing up on their journey of life experiences through their writing
Mindset in so many ways
Passing the days gone by
Emotions surging
Cries into shouts
Needing ears to listen and understand
Words to express
Poets being their own Commentators
As words turn
The mind explores
As highways accelerate
Words become dramatic
Active and aware
60 Minutes Swirl
My hands hold the bars
I’m a good prisoner
Hoping to be let out for good behaviour
Head down
not meeting my jailers eyes
At night when the lights are off
When the moon is in the sky
When men cough and moan in the darkness
I reach through the bars towards the stars
My finger traces that golden orb
My mind explores pin pricks of silver
Traveling light years in mere seconds
no longer held by concrete and steel
When my jailers look at me
They don’t realize that I am a free man
Only my body is held in this place
Where a man’s thoughts travel
there resides his soul
Men are held in many prisons
Expectations
Past traumas
Loveless marriages
Addictions
Regrets
They think
“If I hold onto the bars
keep my head down
Perhaps I’ll get out early for good behaviour?”
All the while not realizing that when they face a mirror
they are looking into their jailer’s eyes.
My skin tells a tale, no shame, no regret/
Ink etched in darkness, paths firmly set/
Each mark a whisper, Occult and profound/
Symbols of magic, where shadows abound/
The inverted cross, a forearm's creed/
A testament to journey, to spirit and need/
Commanding respect, not of gangster lore/
But ancient rites, that my soul explores/
A clean life I walk, sober, legit/
No chains of vice, no shame to admit/
Perhaps I'm one of a few, rare in my kind/
Tattoos of the night, with a disciplined mind/
Celebrity or not, it's not what I claim/
But through the ink flows my spiritual flame/
Proud of my canvas, a map of my quest/
My tattoos are my armor, my silent confess/
My Dripping Honey
Golden honey, thick and slow,
Warming hands and lips below,
A liquid heat that starts to flow,
In lazy drips, a steady glow.
Soft and sweet as it descends,
Tracing curves, it twists and bends,
Trailing fire on my thigh it lies,
A molten pulse, a heated rise.
Warm and sticky, sugar’s kiss,
Each thrust a tease, a lingering bliss,
Glistening skin beneath its claim,
Igniting sparks that fan to flame.
Honey’s heat, a lover’s art,
Drawing paths upon the heart,
Golden pleasure, soft and deep,
A sticky sweetness meant to keep.
She laps the honey, warm and slow,
With every taste, a sweetened glow,
Her lips embrace, her tongue explores,
Each golden drop, she yearns for more.
Your beauty blossomed like the reddest rose:
the years - so kind at first - your looks enhanced,
and lovers falling at your feet, entranced,
will see perfection in you, head to toes.
And yes, my love, this heart's completely yours,
devoted like the rest to what I see,
but know you will not stoop to look at me,
so dreams of you in vain my soul explores.
As years no longer prove themselves your friend,
and lovers false to shadows disappear,
when vexed by fading charm, some day you'll hear
these words: my love for you will never end.
She's a two edge sword,
who wheels profound believes;
Thus, sashays with Viking's valor
and intuitive ease.
She's been known
to bend, near break,
to shade discarded leaves;
From harsh-scolding droughts
or debar's frost-bite freeze.
She's
no puppet-master
and certainly,
ain't angst's puppet, hung;
Who submissive,
cowardly questions,
bows then scurrys
when her strings
are tugged.
She's that avid eagle
with freedom's rein to soar.
Her nest,
it never tethers,
with knowledge's thirst,
explores.
The world, it's her oyster,
with every venture,
craves to conquer more.
On being strong, She is a wrecking ball a force to
reckoned with. On being Strong
She has encountered many battles in this field
called life. Detours, dead ends, and Rollercoaster
rides She has been acquainted with. On being Strong
She has memoirs also life accounts. Once upon a time she expired, and she was revived by
God's grace and mercy. On being Strong
She is rich in spirit, she is a survivor, She explores,
She embraces, She enlightens, She elevates, she
Inspires. On being Strong
Sic semper tyrannis thus always to tyrants. Rebel rebel rebel ! Storms of rebellion topple his brutal regime capture the capital, Damascus liberation celebration. His brutal regime…millions fled for their lives while squashed beneath his iron fist thousands flee who stood by him as his subject's writhe and perish ‘neath chemicals unleashed. Luxury, an extensive car collection rarest of Ferrari’s, Lamborghini Diablo and Rolls-Royce there in his obscenely opulent palace while nine out of ten live in destitute fleet discovered models of his choice. His brutal regime new-found freedom explores an opulent residence torture chambers crumble, captive return to your loved ones as rebels seize the nation’s reigns asylum granted to an ousted leader. Bashar al-Assad in Moscow Assad has fled his country
see how it settles
upheaval with no clear path~
‘tis heaven or hell?
Probable and Possible.
One Holds It
Together While
The Other Explores...
Ever Anew.
Inevitable.
And Right There
At The Lever...
***
Now.
-Gray Squirrel
11-12-2024
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