Long Glorious Poems
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My lady of the night, you light my soul with Vampyre passion,
long I have walked alone from the delights of your Vampyre love.
Now, once more, the night lives with your embraces.
Gone now the melancholy song of my nights,
once more the night is alive with sensual promise,
I feel as if my heart and soul are home again,
holding you close, I know once more the joy of a beating heart.
My Kah Vah Teh, my lady of the night, sing now with me our song,
that song which ever joins us in love's sweet bliss.
The promise of our nights shall once again sing,
come into my arms again and may our night hearts sing in majesty,
let the night be alive with our love, I am again your Shadrach Hah ....
..... Sire, as I breathe this thin night air
And hear the songs upon the wind,
I beckon once more for you,
Your fingers upon my face
as your lips caress once more
The lines of silken skin that I hold bare
For you to take your fill .....
..... Come close to me this midnight, dark,
Enfold me in your arms,
so once more we may walk as one,
Into the aeons of immortal love.
I hear the songs of gentle love
and dance with you once more,
Come close to me, my dark desire,
let us dance again to the songs
that only immortal love can sing .....
..... Our harmonies of love sing into the night,
Are we but two silhouettes against the moon
or are we a fire of desire, emblazoned across night's landscape?
We are the desire of all love's passions,
from the core we join in primal passion as our fire grows.
We become an immortal flame,
a sensual dance of the night's longing.
Oh my beloved, what joy sublime,
caressing once more the temple of my lady of the night.
Your kisses fanning the flame of my complete passion,
lifting my desires to a spiritual plain.
In the night's embrace, together,
we are where we belong .....
..... Silver moon to guide us this night
And the essence of your being upon my lips...
My beloved! How complete are we in this moment!
Your pale skin glowing in this glorious night!
Raven dark your eyes as they fall upon me
And at this moment the universe is witness
Of the glory of a life, a love, immortal!
My vampire knight... I will behold you
Into infinity of immortal time and space!
To Be Continued..........
A Collaboration By,
Morgana VientoLameculos.
&
Michael .P. Clarke.
Vampire: Wampyre Love Poetry Series.
Glowing days that were once red-cheeked and ripe with promise,
Are narrowing like tall candles in a church window,
Tapering from the golden stand and the sturdy base,
To the glorious flame and the ever fading light.
The final birth of dreams that was once distant and cold,
Is now close, closer, ever closer.
The imminent darkened clouds of doubt, that haunt the wise,
Are now gathering close to form a ghostly shadow,
That will create a vast tempest, in a quiet place,
And a mighty torrent that will quench the firelight.
Unyielding waves of fear that are rising in the old,
Are now near, nearer, ever nearer.
To have once coveted the blue from the autumn sky,
Embraced the fallen leaves of a giant maple tree,
To have jumped into water without wondering why,
Leaped joyfully in the warm sand near the emerald sea.
Having playfully chased off the petulant sea gulls,
Broken twigs to build a fire against night’s attack,
Held tight in your strong hands the soft feathers of eagles,
And kissed a beautiful girl on the nape of the neck.
To have laughed at the tetchy clock ticking in the hall,
And smoked each distressing regret like a cigarette,
Knowing it would certainly give cancer of the soul,
The narrowing compels the pining heart to forget.
When forced to consent to the lessening of a day,
And to accept the waning of a moonlit heaven,
To wonder if the path taken was the only way,
Is to live in mortal fear inside a peaceful den.
To be ordered to find gratitude in the calming,
And to find a moments peace in the resignation,
Is not the purpose of the dancing and singing,
This game is but a trial of the imagination,
God has left the beautiful forest unattended,
There is no lesson, design or celestial rule,
To search for meaning is to invite eternal dread,
It takes a saddened, embittered mind to be that cruel.
An elegance can be found in the narrowing,
As memories line together like a pearl necklace,
And clouded moments vanish and amount to nothing,
And all are gently buried with red velvet and lace.
Love the narrowing, set in a purposeless blue sky,
Not because winter nights have become less frightening,
Or the smoldering summer days have now lost their sting,
But as there is no truth in the trumpet or the drum,
It is just a walk among the flowers of freedom.
And a laughing stroll through the narrowing of wisdom.
"melliflous birds are still cooing in the forest of my amber dreams " (by poet)
a gift from my father - on the first day of college,
"Golden Treasury"...A book of poetry...
the first poem I read... "She Walks In Beauty".
I carried that book throughout my life, even when I stopped reading poems...
even when poetry wasn't the priority any more,
Instead I looked at recipe-books - how to improve my culinary skills,
and became almost a champion chef in a few months.
Wordsworth and Browning were far away from my thoughts,
Coleridge? Oh No! Porphyria's Lover, and Ancient Mariner...
did not exist in my world of reality!
how many glorious summers went by ~ how many frosty winters ~
Delicious food, excellent company,
chasing after active children, stressing about job-opportunities,
exotic travels, grandiose entertainment ...
had time for every little trivial thing in the world...but no time for
the book my father imagined his daughter would embrace the most!
then one miraculous day...when even my father gradually forgot
the girl who used to blossom in the world of words, and poetry....
I found my precious friend collecting dust,
neglected, discarded, in the corner of a shelf.. couldn't believe it was waiting for me with a beating heart ~
each and every page came alive with a magical touch ~
still my name clearly visible, handwritten with my father's calligraphic dexterity !
almost shaking to spot my long-lost treasure, I cried!
overwhelmed with emotions, tears fell!
as if a candle burnt and melted.
every drop of tears brought back the lavender memories ~
of an exhilarating past... my passions, my yearnings,
tender dreams of lilac hues never attained, the abandoned path I was supposed to tread ...
a path strewn with lyrics and verses, ballads and
sonnets like blazing auburn leaves of autumn ~
now shockingly empty and despairingly barren.
the forgotten aspirations and never-met goals...the tremendous sense of loss,
of crushing heart-break, of torturous frustration,
all flooded in!
many lonely years have gone by!
melliflous birds are still cooing in the forest of my amber dreams
ultimately my first love has returned !
First Place
May 15, 2021
Inspired by “ He gave her a book” contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
I saw you leave for a trip of discovery
I saw your face alight with such enthusiasm and delight.
You set off, to explore the world around you
***
While you were gone, I witnessed the utmost betrayal to you
From the man, whom in a few short months, were going to exchange vows of forever love
I watched in horror as the events laid out
Dark and cold swirled around Me, clouding my judgment, making me crave the kill
***
You came back from the trip, so happy. I felt sick knowing I was about to destroy you
I opened my arms to embrace the cold and darkness, to over come me so I can go for the kill
I sat you down
I showed you the proof
Those minutes seemed like an eternity
I saw when your world turned upside down, inside out
I saw your heart and soul shatter in your eyes
It was then that the darkness left, and I cried with you, for it’s a pain I know all to well
Though amped for it is you that is going though this
A pain I would take forever just so you do not know it’s lingering existence
***
Your screams and cries howled from your oozing wounds, shaking to the core
You ran and enclosed your self in what use to be your sanctuary, but now nothing but ruins of lies
I sat on the opposite end, listening to those howls and fade away to them
***
After part of the storm of your chaos let up,
I went and saw you. I went and said my final piece:
“It will hurt, it will hurt so bad and you’re life will never be the same. You’ll never be able to trust so carefree, you’ll second guess everything but most importantly yourself. Those wounds will scar and be a forever reminder on your frail heart. Those wounds though, will be gorgeous and you should bare them. They are your battle marks, they will make you stronger in time. My precious darling, my adoring sister, please don’t let him put a veil over your eyes, don’t let him mask the beauty of life. Don’t let him cover your flame of passion. He is nothing more than a speck of dust flowing in the wind, do not make that dust ground you, center you. You will heal, you will conquer and destroy, and you will rise to be almighty and glorious once more, for this will pass. When you don’t feel that you can stand on your own, I’ll be there for you to lean, I will help carry you on. I’ll forever be there to help you fight if you so wish. I love you”
I left this for you my sister, my most precious friend
Form:
Helplessly calling
Helplessly falling
Falling into place
Running this race
Fall leaves on the ground
They make no single sound
I'm bound to see the other side
You're my one and only beautiful bride
Bite the bullet
Bite the bullet
See right through it
See right through the pain
I'm still waiting for His rain
Ease your mind
Seek peace and you'll find
Relief from on high
That's something I can't deny
Hold on to me...
Hold on to me...
Where shall I flee?
Don't worry - we'll get through this!
Don't doubt anymore - be full of gladness
Happiness is one teardrop away
I'm but a broken toy in broad daylight
Red, red roses bloom
In the frost of my gloom
I'm falling into pieces
Never once falling into place
I see the glorious sky
The time passes me by
I'm reaching out into empty space
I'm making a legendary trace
I'm bound to see the other side
My love, I close my eyes on this rowdy ride
Don't subside from my side
Embrace my solitude stride
Bravery boils in my blood
I sit back and solemnly nod
I'm so bound to make a legendary trace
With a thousand gallons of your grace...
I want to find a cure to your pain
The pain that has been driving you insane
Be careful not to offend anyone by any chance
There's mere encouragement in your life to enhance
I've got to get up and make a legendary trace
Even if it means showing you in your face
I've been receiving gratification towards you
Take a step back and realize what I've gone through
You're not a failure
You're a winner deep inside
You're not a bad person
Just swallow your pride!
I want to find a trace of a cure to your lost soul
I need to be more considerate as a whole
I believe in you, so be brave and live life to the fullest
You haven't a clue how muc you're looking your best
While I project feelings of grief
Give me your radiant relief
Listen to the voice,
Echoing whispers of lovely desire
Listen to your mind,
Burning bright like a marvelous wildfire
I want to endure the tribulation of life's strife
I will bring forth a cure to this dilemma and its aftermath
Leave the past behind us and we'll survive this hard life
You and I will find God's legendary trace by entering His path
I've spoke my mind to you
I've longed for your legendary trace
Forgive my downfalls like you do
I've often prayed for your nirvana grace
it's Fashion Week in New York City and the people just can't wait
to see the lastest trends that the designers will demonstrate
to all the fashionistas with their obssession to impress
tis the season to be a woman of style in the way that you dress
for true fashion is about representing one's identity by the clothing one wears
but fashion is fickle and it's a crazy and unpredictable world out there
one day you may be in and the next day you may be out
but if your wearing the garments of God your fashion style is never in doubt
celebrity endorsements, designer labels and someone's logo on your butt cheeks
there's nothing wrong with the external facade but it's the internal you need to seek
you've been baptized and now you are a new creation in Christ
wearing Divine Designer garments to go with your new life
you have been stripped of the old way of dressing
now wearing the virtues of God in a way most impressing
high fashion from that Universal Designer known as Our Lord God
wearing His Divine creations to go with your brand new heart
Patience is now the pantyhose where your divine foundation starts
Compassion is now that delicate silk blouse worn over your heart
Kindness displayed like a heavenly pair of shoes upon your feet
Humility is now that stylish hat that makes your outfit complete
Forgiveness worn like a precious and expensive pair of gloves
and last but not least that glorious overcoat that God calls love
dressed in Divine Designer garments from the inside out
dressed for success with a stylish spiritual clout
you don't need a Louis Vitton sash around your waist
if you have the Belt of Truth cinched firmly in place
you won't need a Ralph Lauren chemise to cover your back
as the Breastplate of Righteousness will protect from any and all attacks
you don't need a pair of Jimmy Choos stiletto high heels
as the Readiness of the Gospel of Peace is a much better deal
you don't require a Prada handbag just to show you're with it
if you have in your hand the Biblical Sword of the Spirit
and it's not necessary to put on Ban de Soleil
as the Shield of Faith will cover you each and every day
and you don't need a Kate Spade hat upon your head
as the Helmet of Salvation will have you spirit led
dressed from the inside out now totally and spiritually clad
dressed in the virtues of God, the finest garments to be had
One morning I sat down with Ernie to explain English,
I know you're a mouse but that squeak can only go so far.
He looked up at me blinked and then bared his teeth,
I said I'll take that for a smile so let's get started.
Ernie, quit staring out that box car door at the scenery,
You'll never learn to talk the King's language that way.
This is no tiny feat for you so please pay attention,
He sat up on hind legs and truly seemed to listen.
I told him that I was a young vagabond train traveler,
And explained that he was the smallest hobo of all time.
So if he could just learn to speak he would become famous,
My tiny friend it's just a matter of adjusting vocal chords.
Remember that if I can mimic your squeaks than why not,
Why could you not imitate my simple gibberish stated?
My God, right then I could see he understood my point,
Ernie's eyes lit up and he proceeded to write hobo on wall.
Actually he chewed the letters into that wood for me to see,
I knew all creatures were intelligent but what a revelation.
My friend Ernie could write so how far from speak was he?
Was so amazed was almost afraid to ask him next question.
Still I asked him where all his intelligence came from?
He turned his back and curled his tail into a question mark.
Was then I knew that not only did he understand questions,
He was asking me what I thought made me so extra special.
That night he chewed some questions for me into that wall,
Why war? Why kill unborn humans? Why kill nature? Why?
There I was the glorious teacher with no definitive answers,
Yet now that I've grown older I've also grown a conscience.
So easy when young to think you are center and will not die,
Those immortal thoughts soon withering on flesh bone tree.
To think it took my dear tiny friend Ernie to wake me,
It is truly humbling to bow before wisdom of a mouse.
That next day Ernie and I just sat there watching scenery,
He atop my knee and I marveling at my wonderful friend.
This train we rode directly through American history,
Passing by old settlements and battlefields of sorrow.
He saw my pain that day and nuzzled each tear from my eyes,
Knowing useless deaths with no respect for nature lived on.
We would travel together after that as ocean ship stowaways,
Still I will finish telling of our train travels together.
To be continued!
© Copyright 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved
please lemme know and honestly profess
if profusion of words create a lingual Loch Ness
(when hens canst come home to roost
especially, encountering
the following conglomeration
in matthew scott harris patois).
He readily admits writing inventive
attempts usually ten tubby a literary mess,
thus finding innocent cyber cruisers
Angle fishing for Saxony fundamental fluidity
courtesy of Freudian stream of consciousness,
gabbling gibberish, muck not done on purpose
and certainly less
to impress.
Gnome hatter intent toward
cogency, fancy ingenuity,
levity, the inevitable
resultant wrought gobbledygook
fascination for Lingua Franca
feeble endeavor splutters, splinters,
and splatters Asia Yukon guess.
Paramour status analogous with twenty six letters,
sans En gull Lush Mother tongue confluence
finds me submerged (as an Arctic Monkey)
swimmingly enervated
via erotic laced sentiments
perhaps finds bravely daring soul madly
hollering, gesticulating floundering,
(in close proximity to Davey Jones's locker)
to avoid drowning at sea
perchance comprehending passionate influence.
Upon espying a signature poem of mine
forces one pre ponder ring lurking predilection
tib hush anonymous re:
dears (dares) adventuresome mettle
taking him/her to the brainy
(briny) deep brink
Icon fess
this (NON FAKE) pretense, why
aye metaphorically express
(via medium of ordinary Anglophile
alphabetic wanton soup,
or figurative egg drop bub
bling broth (el) doth brew)
pronouns Sibyl affectation
affliction sans plethora,
where each ladle full adrip with
richly flavor Verdana Font lee
and sincerely textured vocabulary.
Pluperfect mortals beings undoubtedly feel
(blindsided, how this hunger stricken author
suffers said sesquipedalian syndrome
particularly expectorating flashy
hoping tum bark on successful literary quest)
hyper aware aspiring paperback writers wannabe
might stoop to conquer, cheat, cadge
vis a vis plagiarize plethora
amidst storied plentiful English droppings.
Rather than succumb pretense feigning paucity
temptation to bask exultantly,
professed glorious unrequited love
announcing required sworn vow,
(el lye ding) avowed consonant covenant.
Form:
6.
Arlaghs, once more ready to advance,
this could be their final chance,
to turn, for them, the battle fought,
to destroy the mortal, they had sought.
yet now, know this would not be.
mortals would this day be free,
from the darkness across the plain,
blood was shed away, by tears of pain.
The Dark Man helped upon his feet,
this battle scene is now complete,
Turvehr, he is now by his side,
now, there is no place to hide,
Dark Man helped on back of friend,
now he'll fight until the end,
Arlagh's see the Dark Man near,
once again, their Dark hearts no fear,
One final push, once more into the fray,
tears are falling, human's calling,
as the fight runs too its end,
at Alahsar, that fateful day.
The Tigress, tears fall from her eyes,
she softly says her last goodbyes,
for she knows, at the end of this day,
the Dark Man shall have passed away.
Every eye shall have a tear,
the Arlagh's shaking now with fear,
"Walk In The Light,"
final cry, the Dark Man's call,
repeated now by one and all.
Forward for the final time,
Blood does flow, life's sweetest wine,
Utamol, now in final storm,
slashing, hacking, stabbing home.
Arlagh, now hanging his head,
His fate is written, on blade so red,
still, creatures of night battle on,
as they hear Death's mighty horn.
Life is gone, within battle's storm,
yet still, the Arlaghs battle on,
it is the only way they know,
death facing the foe, the way they must go.
The Tigress, fighting on with such skill,
her sword is thirsty for the kill,
her dance is the dance of Death,
those facing her, take their last breath.
Anger burns deep in her soul,
destroying the dark, her only goal,
She does all a warrior can,
she stays near to her Dark man.
The mists of time can't take away,
the horror felt upon this day,
at this time there is no glorious sight,
Arlagh's dispatched to their land of night.
battle over now, all mortals cheer,
except for the one crying sorrow's tear,
no more shall they be together,
Dark Man's dead body sits on Turvehr.
Cheers of victory are slowly muted,
agony of the heart, is better suited,
mortals fall upon their knees,
the Joy within their hearts, does freeze.
Many times the saviour of this dreamland,
he has made his final stand,
the tears of all begin to fall,
the Carynx has blown, one last, mighty call.
To Be Continued..........
I remember it as if were yesterday
VE Day...well, not exactly
but, close enough for me
The actual surrender of Italy
May 2, 1945....but the damn Americans
Always the Americans wanted May 8
So, it's May 8th, but I'll always remember the second
We were in Milan...I love Milan
Hitler was dead, Mussolini was dead
I was alive, and in Milan
Rumours were out that the war in Europe was almost done
Nobody had told the Gerry's that though
Word came from Lubeck that they'd surrendered
I was twenty one years old, going on 50
War ages you...and not in a good way
I was in 6th Airborne and ready to go back
When the word came down
I remember kissing the waitress at our cafe
I kissed her hard, and with as much passion as a 21 yr. old can have
I didn't want to let her go
It was over
I kissed her for myself, and everyone in Milan
I kissed her for my folks in Clapham
I kissed her for her folks, wherever they were
I kissed her because we were free, they were free
I kissed her for my Uncle, who we lost early in 1941
Lost him during the blitz in London
England lost 430 people, we lost Uncle Cyril
That was enough, I was signing up
Now, it was over and I was moving on
I kissed her for everyone still waiting for the news
But, most of all, I kissed her for Leslie Testro, Rfn (18yrs)
Lance Cpl Thomas Wray (22 yrs), Lt. Dennis Edmonds (21 yrs)
and all the others attached to 6th Airborne
Who wouldn't know it was Victory in Italy
They were lost, not forgotten, never forgotten
Forever in our minds, our roll of honour
We celebrate them annualy
Few of us left now, but, those that are
go back to Italy every two or three years
back to Milan, and we toast them all
My waitress, Rosa Testrini
She was there as well, every year
Until five years back, we lost her
Now we toast her as well
We all have our honour roll
She was on mine
I found her again in 1950
We were on our second trip back
She met my wife, and I her husband
He's still there, and we talk
My Italian is better than his English
But, we talk as well as we can
I miss her, and the others
But that day, that glorious day in May
I've never kissed like that since
And my wife knows it
Sometimes she reminds me...
I laugh, and remind her....
What that day means...if it hadn't happened
We may not be kissing now
so, she'll never get that kiss
Only Rosa
Rest In Peace my waitress