Alabaster used for statues and vases
Brass and beryl
Calcite, relative of limestone and marble
Diamond, pure carbon
Erbium used for fiber optics
Fluorite boosts mental clarity
Gypsum and graphite
Hematite polished into beads
Iron used to make steel
Jadeite graded A B or C
Kunzite soft pink, lilac or violet
Limestone formed from shells and corals
Moonstone heightens psychic sensitivity
Nacre also mother-of-pearl
Opal plays with rainbow colors
Peridot August’s birthstone
Quartz used in electronics
Ruby red
Sapphire a deep Kashmir blue
Topaz November’s birthstone
Unakite green and pink granite
Vesuvianite discovered in Italy
Wavelite a rare aluminum mineral
Xanthite named by ancient Greeks
Yowah nut from Australia
Zircon of many colors
Black-blue paint bleeds from within the cracks of crumbling cement walls,
Crushed skeletons infused within limestone erode,
exposing nameless sorrow hidden behind faceless grains of gypsum,
while a forgotten galaxy's celestial ceiling peers through a decaying thatched roof.
Misguided souls reach out into night's void,
screeching repeated sins into feverish gusts of wind,
tethered to each rusting rebar that's barely holding what was once their haven together,
unable to let go, doomed to relive past grievances.
Weathered spiral staircases lead towards nowhere.
Bleakness suffocates while hope is snuffed out,
like the wick of bitter candles drowning in their own wax.
Spinning surrealistic scenes melt into intangible realities,
each soul writhing in agony, trying to break free of abject cycles,
yet punishment clings like the smell of burnt tobacco,
unable to separate the scent from the fibres of existence.
Disembodied voices find no reprieve,
only more excruciation
at the hands of cruel judgement.
Gypsum drags in the inwards
Welcoming solace in embrace
My mouth parched
Still searching
For the warm dew
Of gentle thighs
Empirical knowledge
Heralds the familiar refrain
Engulfment echoes
in what follows
Failing intently the pressing
Of conviction
Thoughts bare fruit here
Heavy from ponder
Never falling to be heard
Where senses take leave
To hoard in greed
Sabbaticals of feral kisses
We will dine tonight
On ourselves
Me, Myself and I
Stuffing further what's left
Into this comfy cocoon where
Time consumes our lingering
Transforming purpose
Yet, not transformed
Leaving the solvency
Of existence to hold breath
My chrysalis weaves itself
From dreams caught adrift
Binding barren pages
Yearning for their author
A Soul bereft of form
Metamorphosis in progress
Waiting.....
An eternity and still.....
Bound tightly to await
For Serendipity to unfurl
Her gifted Genesis
To touch my Soul
The load bearing capacity
Load bearing consistency
It lack such but provides
the artist the ability to create
It's need for insulation
He stood before with
Such a grin
The conversation would be
needed to talk in a standized
Way.
Grams into ounces
Kilos into pounds
Liters into cups
They stood there smiling
Like gold miners we
Struggle with the same
Math.
Might these conversations
Make the fear of gypsum
Block making easier or
easiest that we fear not
that thou are with us
To speak these manga stations true.
That those who wish us parted
May frown in the fact that have
been undermined in a reversed fashion
Might they then speak us as
Lord and Laird, yet we pray
Yet we pray!
The spring shall make this a wildflowered covered landscape
they made soda outta alpine needles
and mixed it with vodka and gin
a slash of lemon and lime
and some carbonated water mixed in
they ooh'd and ah'd at the deliciousness
and marvel at the taste
a smile broke the ice
with a comment on the taste.
I wanted ya'll to love this thang
I really really did.
Sip and and delight in
the refreshing citrusy taste.
the mountains of Milan a skiers paradise
what a wonderful way to spend
an evening. Risotto alla Milanese
and Ossobuco with wine and sweet desserts
were the stars of the evening
but the night belonged to the alpine needles and the citrus drink.
I learned that taint whyle was the word used to describe
Written by Sisg the Gypsy
and Halo-Halo the Soda Maker.
Done-Rite Publishing soda.
recipes used with permission by
Yeah Gal- and Who-chi Main
Main course with Whipp Appeal
Desserts By Griffa and Them.
the stacking of the Gypsum bricks. we poured a bit to the ground
in honor of Kulla the God of Brick Making.
Spaceward: genesis, obedience, fathomless: universe.
In Cerulean: lambent, sullen, discernible: Close ignite.
With harmony: hypaethral, skyward, aether: womb hiccups
Whelm time: serenade, stardust, drizzles: diamond dust,
Overall trends: extinguish, slumber, wonder: celestial hymn,
By extolling: Argyle, twinkle, soothing: miraculous rule
Alabaster Gypsum: portholes, peering, ogling: rain glints
Rubicund Jocund: ventral, sheqalim, vivid: lured stars
Exalt air: Blistering, bleeding, molting: Corolla collide
Orotund Moire: Kaleidoscopic, sentient, dusk: carnal life
Grab fistful: Dripping, purple, precipitation: Sunburnt sky
Dodging Venus: Flytrap, ill-wishers, pyramids: Shift astern.
This variation on sonnet XL1 to illustrate what Kuhlmann intended .
kuhlmann is a verse poem of two phrases interspered with three related monosyllabic stem- words(nouns,adjectives )with an integral title.The label and form is derived from the baroque poet Quirinus Kuhlmann's 50 sonnet
form Love-kiss XLI
Poem inspired by the sonnet penned by Brian Stand
We have traveled to thirty-seven states, the youngster told me.
He is only eight, so this is quite the accomplishment.
I collect one rock from each state, want to see them?
His mother rolls her eyes, as if it is no big deal.
It is a big deal to me; I am also a rock collector.
Sure!
He takes me into his room and pulls a box out from under his bed.
I imagine mica, feldspar, gypsum, glitters of bloodstone and the like.
He opens the lid. The rocks are gray, chalky, and gravel.
“Which one came from Tennessee?” I ask him.
He says “I have absolutely no idea, but aren’t they amazing?”
I think I’ll get him a bag of gravel for his birthday.
White Sand and Temporary Oblivion
For an aching moment
I faced dazzling
Gypsum and glass as splinters
Of sunlight pierced the air
Bouncing bright off the landscape at
Alamogordo ---fat Cottonwoods and
not a tree in sight not
Here, the sight of the unholy Trinity
test
Blessed and blast
A fitting slant rhyme for our
slanted
times
askew at
1700 Silica Avenue in a decidedly
different Manhattan where no
Dandy boulevardier would dare strut.
Castle Bravo likewise
No place to dwell as we
Did our best
to incinerate the century
Trolling for a toll in the ashes of the atoll.
No sufficient payment was made.
But all that brightness
those purblind moments flirting
With nothingness all
retreated
Like genie to bottle
Heard whispering,
"I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds..."
Certain whispers linger
Portending brighter, more permanent
Non-being; so be it.
This desertscape dotted with feathers.
What need? I haven’t a need
for umbilical utensils utterly useless
on a Sanskrit road
long as the maiden’s Genghis apron
white as white gypsum in Alamogordo,
New Mexico.
Here you find blossoming curry spattered across
an ancient horizon
lulled by the dunes rattling the baritone basin,
and in America, in this most united of
Apache - Comanche - Navajo
estates, we gather nations through nuclear
hinges obtusely obliterated at White Sands National.
dark and dangerous like a secret,
how deep, how far does the cave go?
the melody of running water,
shimmering, our helmet light reveals
a dangerous cascade, flowing inwards,
down a steep rocky chasm, on we go.
hidden wonders, they were all secrets.
giant selenite crystals, gypsum
the worlds biggest, lacelike, translucent.
bacteria slime drips then turn upward
to join a buddy in pitch blackness, why?
where? if you are into earth's deepest
dark cave secrets, for their safety,
keep them secret unto yourselves.
I hold a secret from a dark dangerous place.
where, well I can not tell you, its a secret
I can show you a picture I took.
look, did you see, a gypsum crystal,
this tale not fiction, a secret, oh yes!
Free Verse Only- Pick a Theme Poetry Contest - Sponsored by Laura Loo
05/29/18
A ROOM
I went behind those painted walls;
And that I ever saw;
Plaster of Paris wooden slats;
Gypsum board adoptive adolescence;
The period following the onset
Which a wall develops added ceiling floors;
Now becomes a...............................Room
after construction
4/22/18
written words by James Edward Lee Sr.
Copyright © 2018
hiking Penman's Pass
along the river Nith
the current strong
white water over shallows
along the river Nith
damp the air
chilling to the bone
hiking Penman's Pass
to the forks of the Grand
gypsum veins run deep
in Paris legacy
hiking Penman's Pass
The bricks on the bricks
The stones on the stones
Joined with hard iron
And soft gypsum
Handle the strong hands
To build the buildings
The towers, the palaces
The mills and the factories,
The great contributions
Of those maker hands
To the constructions
To the civilizations,
But those golden hands
Fallen under exploitations
To survive are in fights
Deprived of proper rights.
From an inch away, I feel the cold grace my way
Lost heat radiating from your words
But still I’m yours
Across mobile lines
Shivering my mind
But still I’m yours
I’m freezing but your thawing
Heating from this warm heart of mine
But still I’m yours
My bed is stalagmite now
And my pillow is gypsum
But still I’m yours
Frozen to be ancient
You’ve turned me into this ice monster
But still I’m yours
I’ll be that face in the wardrobe
When you reach out for a sweater
Cos I’m yours
Her eyes were crystals, with repetitive inner structures and outer sheet faces. They were made of quartz, of almost pure silica.
Her smile was a star in the farthest galaxy. It was made of combustions of crimson and wild blue yonder. A star that shines from afar yet already dead a hundred of years ago.
Her hands were soft, like they were made of silky fibers with furrows of anhedonia and benumbed stimuli.
Her heart wasn't of plain, with etchings nonetheless. Covered with stratums of plasters of a mixture of gypsum with water and sand, thence the width made her blunt.
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