"And if there's gonna be a life here after,
And faith somehow I'm sure there's gonna be,
I will ask my God to let me make my Heaven,
In that dear place together you and me."
Quote by Tommy Flemming and the Poet
you became the gate through which I entered reality
my vitality
we embarked together on a journey to sensuality
morality
you are still the gateway to floodlights in my mind
my find
by day the sun rose just to witness our adoration
infatuation
In every storm you were the thunder
my wonder
you were my strength against life unfurled
our world
melting to look into your soulful eyes
mesmerize
we walked as one, stride by stride
by your side
Your splendid embrace
souls interlace
always my mate
it was our gate
going through
with you
**
when that ghostly apparition appears
my fears
and all but our love is godforsaken
we refuse to be taken
groaning and grief-stricken we part
my heart
on gossamer wings the angel will save
our grave
going through the gate in stormy weather
we are together
diving through fluorescent
waves
of the cosmos,
far beyond the stretches
of exploding supernovas,
and collapsing
constellations of black holes,
our glistening
fingers interlace~
seeking solace
in astral weightlessness,
where stars serenade
eternal love…
Softly, falling snowflakes dance around us, a whimsical trance subtle scents of winter's breath mingling with the promise of new life's depth — with our eyes locked, chests beating as one, the world around us a hazy vision spun, fingers interlace, a tender silent tongue, nervous mamihlapinatapai — die cast roll as we both lean in, anticipations herald jejune as we brush, ineffable warmth from within — core of the sun, bodies numb.
Memento Mori-bund relived phantasmagoric,
somnambulantly — dice read sweven.
*teardrops goodbye*
Irony of Life
In the quest for more, desires take flight,
A luxury car owner envies the jet's height.
The motorbike rider dreams of the car's gleam,
While the cyclist longs for the engine's scream.
The one on foot watches the bike glide by,
Yearning for wheels, a chance to fly.
And the one with legs, in silent plea,
Envies the walker, wishes to be free.
From planes to feet, desires interlace,
In the irony of life, we all chase but nothing.
Mcdarlington™
My mind is stripped of crippling inhibitions
It rummages, unfettered with mundane thoughts
delving along beveled edges of a distorted mirror
as though it sees inside my sutured heart
In its scarred reflection is a sanguine painting
An original piece of bloody abstract art
In translucent shadows
shades of red interlace, light and dark
revealing with candid strokes
the sad validities of stresses in life
Paint drips in globules from my brush
bleeding onto a canvas of fleshly white
Emotions revealed with intense veracity
as the aureate sun fades, lost at dusk
I turn away from the glow of moonlight
Emotions unmasked, I've taken a stance
that allows me to paint a somatic portrait
Visions discovered while I sat in a trance...
ochre and crimson oils, sorrow runs black
Bloodletting hues whether in a painting
or in poetic lines of a caged poem, I trusted
would always remain closed... but
the rusted door has been flung wide open
Released is this motley conveyance titled,
"Live, If I Must"
In an immeasurable expanse of digital space
Our connection glinted with an amazing grace
with every word, my heart feels a blazing flame
and this I acclaim!!!
Such a pace,
with no chase, just an interlace.
This I acclaim!!!
I would not trade the feeling for anything
if it means abstaining,
Darling that's what I am doing.
your dreams and aspirations, I long to know
your perfect, imperfections.
Your smile, I long to see with my eyes set on yours
your laugh, I long to hear
Closer to my ear.
I am appetised for your touch,
Like your hands had an excursion on my body before.
Take the credits
I just can tell, that you can do it right.
I wanna get lost into your soul,
be your safest space.
I wanna crave your energy,
whenever you are out of reach.
I cannot wait to set my eyes on you,
and fall in love all over again.
With each glance, steal a heart once again.
That's a high, I am patiently waiting for.
Quote: "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." - Alfred Lord Tennyson
In love's great quest, amidst the trials we face,
We navigate a labyrinth of pain,
Where hurdles rise, and shadows interlace,
Yet still, love's flame within our hearts remains.
Like thorns on a rose, obstacles appear,
Social norms, familial bonds entwine,
Economic woes, our path so unclear,
And lovers torn by vows they must resign.
But in the depths of darkness, love's light gleams,
A beacon guiding lost souls through the night,
With selfless grace, it mends the shattered dreams,
And sets our spirits soaring to new heights.
For love, the word that frees us from life's strain,
Remains our solace, eternal refrain.
Rekindled, our bond,
Years lost, now paths interlace,
Laughter blooms anew,
Memories, like stars, align,
Warmth in the cold space between.
In that hamlet sweet, where dreams take flight,
Beneath the canopy of day and night,
With each season's change, a new delight,
Where joy and sorrow intertwine, in their might.
Spring breathes life into the earth's embrace,
Summer's heat, a fervent chase,
Autumn whispers secrets, leaves interlace,
Winter's frost, a tranquil grace.
"He sung his 'didn't he, danced he did',
In rhythms of life, where moments bid,
For women and men, in love amid,
Their souls entwined, their spirits hid.
They reckoned not of anyone's stand,
But danced along to nature's hand,
They sowed their nay, they reaped their yea,
Under sun, moon, stars, and rain's array.
For in this hamlet fair, where hearts entwine,
Where myriad bells in the breeze define,
Each soul finds solace, each spirit fine,
In the rhythm of life's grand design.
:: 02.21.2024 ::
From cooing babe to the seasoned tongue,
I've tasted life, a vibrant song.
Sweetness on fire, bitter sting,
Each flavour etched, a fleeting spring.
A dancer dark, a muscle's art,
I weave a map within the heart.
Spicy heat and creamy bliss,
On this canvas, senses kiss.
But taste alone cannot convey,
The depths of meaning, day by day.
Words take flight, on feathered wings,
From poets' verse to everyday things.
A bridge of language, cultures meet,
In whispered secrets, voices sweet.
Misunderstood, I twist and turn,
A double-edged sword, lessons learned.
A silent plea, a lover's touch,
A playful tease, a mother's clutch.
Emotions bold, in stories, told,
I speak the heart, both young and old.
A fiery cry, a whisper-soft,
The tongue's true power rises aloft.
In silence, too, I find my space,
Where thoughts and feelings interlace.
So let me dance, this tireless tongue,
In the symphony of meaning, ever sung.
A taste, a touch, a word, a song,
The tongue's true power is forever strong.
As the pixels of our images' imagined- dance
in magics binary
as chemicals mingling between us-
in touch's refibering, as element_OFelementals
entrenched,
drenched in of love's territorial ink
in it's.environmental sea
at moonlit cove
as stars scream in digital blink
In the silence of a starlit night,
I hear the whispers of the moon,
your serenade of gentle grace,
satelliting a mood,
as nature paints a tranquil face,
Time hands brushed strokes to interlace,
claws for an embrace.
Magic chronochromatic_poetry virtuates
automatically, as
fallen leaves of the tree of Life,
are we, like the nows'
fondest fronds of imagical memories,
drifted by and by inbetween reality sea, driftwood
carried,
buried in a crypt on the wind's soft sigh,.
the eternal cosmic expanse of adjoined mind,
In the diodes of pietry of infrared and canvas of
4D-shade, Spirit Never Fade,
find our way to our dream- that finds a way.
In the existential dualist domain,
irreducibly implanted in intrinsic psychic arena,
we breathe as God’s generous gift
the divine breath of the enactment life,
as the source of congruent performing creativity.
The unwavering faith molds the mind
for its inward journey to enlightened eternity,
the ordained life turns into a turbulent river,
the currents of contemplation interlace,
and carry the elements of innate reflection.
The ultimate merger with the serene sea,
contouring the receptive calmness of the soul,
manifests in the final amalgamation
with the aspects of infinite euphoria,
sublimating the essence of mental motif.
The soul shines in the spiritual glow,
reflecting the patina of perception lotus,
as self-searching entranced odyssey ends
in the singular sanctum of the supreme,
the revelation revives the acuity appreciation.
The spiritual passage across perception stratum,
achieved by introspective dissolution
of the rigid notions through transcendence,
dissolves the division of outside-in and inside-out,
virtuous bliss suffuses as we bilocate our awareness.
In the heart of Harlem's nocturnal embrace,
where the moon's silver threads interlace.
Streetlamps hum a jazz-filled tune,
underneath the city's ebony dune.
Brownstone whispers, history untold,
in the rhythm of the Harlem night's hold.
A symphony of footsteps on cobblestone,
each echo a tale, each shadow, a home.
Saxophone solos from an open window,
melodies that the city's heart knows.
Dancing notes in the summer air,
as dreams ascend the winding stair.
Voices rise from the stoops below,
poetry in the cadence, in the ebb and flow.
In the Harlem night, stars align,
a constellation of stories, yours and mine.
Countee's verses echo on these streets,
where the past and present gently meets.
Harlem's heartbeat, a rhythmic boon,
sung in the verses of a Harlem nocturne.
Along the waterfront where the piano keys play,
A harbor of echoes, where notes gently sway.
Keys like ripples in a tranquil bay,
A melody of inlets, where echoes stay.
Frequencies murmur with the ebb and flow,
In the salty air, where whispers go.
The seagull's cry adds to the maritime song,
A haven where sailors have journeyed along.
Under the sun's spectrum, a haven's grace,
Notes of sails and seashells interlace.
Colors of azure and golden sand,
A poetic sonnet of the sailor's land.
Harbor pathways chart sailors' course,
Echoes of anchors and the sea's discourse.
In the inlets, where the notes align,
A visual journey beneath the sun's design.
Through hidden coves and open seas,
On the inlet where the winds tease.
Colors in intensity, a maritime map,
A poetic sonnet of the seafarer's lap.
So, let the breezy keys guide your way,
By the piano harbor where dreams may sway.
In the melody of the sea, where the notes unveil,
A poetic voyage, a musical inlet tale.
In forests where the whispered secrets play,
Komorebi weaves through branches, a dance so bright,
A tapestry of light in tranquil display,
A sacred serenade, a soul's delight.
Through leaves, the sun's benevolent embrace,
Bestows on earth its ethereal grace,
In dappled shadows, spirits interlace,
Creating sanctuaries, a holy place.
For Komorebi's realm, love's essence must prevail,
Its shadows on beloved hearts, a cherished tale,
Embraced by hues of love, a tranquil, blessed art,
A heaven for the soul, a serenity's restart.
This radiant art, a spiritual hymn,
A tranquil blessing, nature's whispered prayer,
Where light and peace in harmony swim,
An offering of serenity so rare.
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