Long Misted Poems
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Day dawned dank grey.
Sky pre-washed to ashen, cuddled in.
Cats on tippy-toes dipped their toes in puddles
stalking prey, huddled to pause, slumbering in.
Birds ruffled dew drop spots from feathers,
distracted to pause their prattle tattle calls
by the gloom of low slung clouds engulfing the din.
The dank cupped hands of horizon clouds
called for hush in prayer
to say grace with the morning gathering, all misted-in in fog.
The dewy gossamer mist turned to gentle rain,
almost embarrassed
to fall with pitter-patter plinks and plops
echoing from puddles, leaves and panes.
The shower done with its drenching, quenching drizzle,
passed overhead
and curtain-called the sun to get up,
to stand to attention,
and to herald the day
to get on with its business.
"As a child I maintained a stoic attitude.
I exhibited patience, restraint, resignation, forbearance, and lack of complaint.
The ideal child you might say. As I grew, I realized the error of my ways."
¬The Poet¬
Dreaming improbable dreams.
Reality betwixt the unsealing
Softly fluttering butterfly wings
Apricot anacondas wreathing
Bleating lambs catapult seaward
Over volcanoes about to erupt
Prismed glass rainbows sliding
Monuments souring unhindered.
No longer enslaved slaves
Thinking the unthinkable
To be what I truly feel
Tears that can’t be cried
Walnut shells dismembered,
For pathways to the unknown
Physically powerful reasons.
Persimmons permeate perfume,
Soft velvet sparks so subtle
Teardrops fall in puddles,
Weary eyes forge forward,
Everlasting daisies wilt
Forlorn ekphratic regrets
Misted windows endorse,
The pain as its vile pungency
Scorns the soul of the angelic
drives goodness to the brink,
mighty swords flow protests
to the unyielding winds of time
To defiantly stand up to demons
for a valid worthwhile cause
as the lyrics of memoirs spill
and gazes turn to wonder,
amid lonely nights of fear
with only love unblemished
if not myself what can I be?
to reach an unreachable star
I surrender to their touch.
Untold ethics to be true.
The sweet rose petals pink
And cumquats bursting
And ever do I regret the sigh,
Of your entwined lullaby
With cold adorning feathers
The sorrowful peacock wails,
An unending finale of song
To ease my savage thoughts
Doing it my way evermore,
And regain courage to protest,
In tangerine oasis in the seas
Instilling birds and bees hum
And bliss of your caressing
On clouds of coral swaying
As lilac shoots skyward
In ever circling cascades
Of merriment galore in store
Where mirth and joy combine
Making sediment pure wine
All logic cast aside in the wash.
The righted wrongs unsaid.
Resting my tired head
Culminating in enough said.
Without soul nourishment our spirits shall wither and die.
Words are a mere instrument, but can reflect truth to power.
Of our faith within love and understanding—truth begs mercy,
Whilst melting honey-sweet crystals kiss thy soft warm cheeks.
We dream and bathe inside the sun’s most radiant gift of desire.
Cool waters of divine creation lovingly quench this desert fire,
And the haunting spectre of death shall never be an end to us!
Winds of such deep-thoughts softly and sweetly sting at once,
When I show you a mirror-image of what our destiny can be.
Adrift in storms of fervid emotions I give in now to your love.
I see a temple of beauty I once bowed down to under your gaze,
As your red-hot daggers strike deepest cords in this coldest breeze.
Now holding hands sunlight-sparkled with you inside this dream,
This heartfelt satisfaction’s worth more than all the world’s gold!
Riches fall from Heaven now in shining jewels of misted pearls,
Whilst I walk alone in deepest thoughts in my blue suede shoes.
Living-loving inside a sole-soul of dreams—true and unbounded,
I hear songbirds whistle and whisper in such joy by God’s grace.
Our souls may nourish themselves on the eternal power of our love.
With God as our witness—we fear not what death shall bring to us,
For our love and true destiny exist far beyond this mortal world!
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid, A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – May 15, 2016
(Free Verse)
In ghostly dreams the horse will come
And feed on my forbidden cereal
Meant for my recalcitrant healing
That filly came a-prancing stealing
O shrouded mare so misted white
Thou bleakest horse ,this blackest night
Untethered and untied
Noble creature -"NOT"- I cried
A pallid stare through tousled mane
Treads the core of my hidden pain
So obvious now for all to see
My fear complies to jellyfied fragility
Hope drifts lost in catatonic misery
As does my scream in muted agony
Nostrils flared in malarial trembling
Gasps aloud from injurious dreaming
Departing tail of comets flight
Leaves me such a prophetic sight
Flavor of rain, herbal.....clear
like broth lingering on your lips ,
relishing a taste of limey brew--
its vapor beguiles my senses
with undulated abandon...
For a moment time freezes
in trembled trance, the monsoon rivering
as your kiss seeps inside the bones,
and in gradual mount of liquid thrill
the concave grip kneading
into an embrace within
one evening's quiver rescues me,
Reminding me how surrender
can be subtle like the slow movement
from piety to rawness of gust,
gathering all that's aflame
and gentle... and I will wrap
your fingers around my soul
through hidden blue of eyes ,
that cleavage of spine
dressed in lavish caresses,
that nothing else will fulfill me
...but the nectar of our misted dew.
So Much and Yes More
As she let slip her gown to reveal a shoulder so white
Her head she turned round with lips full, luscious and teeth oh so white
His lips trembled as they touched her flesh, the gown rippled to the floor
As he kissed her, his mind was planning to do so much, and yes more…
Knees trembling with a desire as the heat started to rise
His kisses rise up from her chin to each fluttering closed eye
Her hands did a walk round his body, she found twas no chore
He waited and he wanted her do so much, and yes more…
Burning now with desire, tongues battling with lust
Flicking the lips, the white teeth, tongue running round was a must
Teeth that shone in the blue light last night on the dance floor
Although they may be false they still wanted to do so much and yes more.
Knees that had trembled in that first shy clumsy embrace
Were strong and steady now he felt there was no need to chase
Because the walking frame is away they are leaning against the door
Wrapped in each others arms and wanting to do so much, and yes more…
New found love, the twinkle in the eye of each lover of fun
Misted eyes not with love, but a cataract on each one.
They exchanged words of love; they were going to have a drink next door
Holding hands under the table wanting to do so much and yes more…
Hearts were pounding a magnetism drew them so close to journeys end
The new induction cooker finished off the would be lovers that were now friends
As they leaned against it in a passionate embrace - neither saw
A warning about induction and pacemakers, that damage so much, and yes more…
The sparks they did fly and the couple reveled in their final burst of lust
But it was very short lived as they both then bit the dust
So take heed as you age and your passions still come to the fore
Avoid making love against an induction hob as the damage is so much and yes more…
© ~GG~ 09/10/2102
Oh baneful yellow Moon in fullest rounded sphere,
Bright as Summers Buttercups in abundant yield,
Coldly riveted upon Winters beaten, thin silvered panels;
Thereof: By ye mighty hammer doth great thoth wield!
For what fearful trowel gouged out thine far flung valleys
Whilst piling high upon yon monstrous heights?
Wherest, scattering the bare pebbles, a ghostly sower
Coursing across vast cratered plains under Selenian moonlights.
Here once didst thou swelling tides ever invade long vanished shores
Dragged upon by some dwindling, exploded, far distant star;
An atmosphere girdling, warming and nurturing -
Torn from this barren rock and cast way out afar!
Eternally ostracized and deviled, adorned in black swirling robes;
Drifting angular grains heaped - raked by hot solar winds;
Your desolate kingdoms lit in all seasons under heavenly lanterns;
Worshiped and foully cursed upon: for any amount - and all manner of sins.
And ere did erstwhile lovers that ever come forth on bended knee,
To traverse the pale beams that twist about the crooked stiles,
Pledge well intended oaths beneath high, impossible windows:
Their grandly draped balconies and balustrades bathed in luminosities wiles.
When across the recorded centuries of histories misted-veiled years,
from the quill of the old sage, from the high lilt of the bard,
Your pensive countenance disaffected and of a cheerless tilt -
Hanging upon sharply crested vestiges of reckless disregard!
Interview – 3-21-24 For Paddy Ch. Quick as a Wink 6/26/2010 – 3/8/24 www.poetrysoup.com › poem › interview_with_the_irish
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Interview With the Irish Wind
Wind from the heart of Eire, come abide with me for a moment
before you toss your swirling hair across your ancient friend
for I feel your breath rising inside me - a banshee’s howl.
Are you here to carry my Irish rascal’s spirit on the breath of emerald breezes,
his soft and silky coat waving like fields of golden wheat,
to new hallowed hills of green?
Will you set his soft paws on sunlit winding lanes
rising up to meet him
when he crosses a mystical bridge misted in rainbows?
Will you escort him to that sacred hollow of sunny glens
where he ever runs free embraced in the sparkle of the Daystar,
twinkling with delight like etched crystal -
quick as an Irish wink!
Tell me, wind of Erin, does the beat of his steadfast heart
pulse in your throbbing cadence like the bodrain and Kerry drums,
his bright brown eyes dancing like jigs and reels -
a new star in Eire’s eternal sky?
Wind from the Irish sea, do you ruffle his soft grey ears
with the touch of angel’s breath
sung as a lullaby as he sits upon his Creator’s feet
feeling life surge within him again – a newborn wind?
O Celtic child,
Grieving heart, let your heart rest in the hollow of the Creator’s hand
where shamrocks never close,
forever blooming in eternal light.
Hear the music he left in your heart – a soft breeze across the Shannon,
know his task now finished, blessed, like fine spring rain – consummated by grace –
eternal grace so pleased.
And, when you hear the pipes know in ways he never leaves
but sings the music shared by your hearts
sung from his forever home.
And now that he has been through the fire
out of that dark and cold space
you will bring him home again.
Beannactai!
Modest woman moderate woman
Your inner beauty strikes me
Like the tongue of noble eloquence
More than gold even refined gold
Or our purged fulgent silver.
Black woman proud woman
Your pride is not haughty
But a humble pride of eaglets;
Your black eyes are so glittering
As the eyes of our dark rivers
Filled with messages of peace
That banish the broody turmoil
From those panting hearts
Of your foreigned offsprings.
Gentle mother diligent mother
Your kindness kindles the fires
Of my heart –
Your dexterity dresses
The table of our ageless history
And the thought of your being
– Oh kind mother! –
Makes the most delicious menu
For my heart.
I remember your naked feet
Fast and fair as a pigeon’s limbs
Treading the invisible paths
Almost covered by shrubs
Small shrubs misted by the prime mist.
I remember the wood from the wood
The water from the water
And manifold items from jungle alleys
Borne by your delicate hands
And upon your soft black-haired head.
I remember the constant match
To markets and to farms
And your bright face smeared with
The ash dust
Making you more beautiful
Than any woman whose feet
Ever touched the naked earth.
I remember those burdens
Upon your cheerful kin-souls
And babies strapped to your backs
Babes full of unspoken words
To unborn others in patient wombs
Waiting in an endless turn –
Indeed, mother is dove!
A black dove and a dark huntress
A hunter’s gift from the maker?
Mother is like a weaver-bird
Building a big foot-like nest
Filled with corn and warmth
A bundle of eagle-flight
Mother is dove
And the hunter calls her
The clan’s eternal dove.
Oh, mother loving woman
Gentle as our black horizon
To you we humbly come
From these far and lonely lands
Hoping to grace our love and beauty
Before that jealous grave
Makes her temporary feast.
Irish Nectar of the Sun Goddess
This mystical aura of golden radiant sunbeams so sublime
With a warm mead laying lovely below its enchanted neck,
Is breathless releasing gasps of white-hot-fire breaths now,
All spiritual within one and a thousand sighs, it whistles too.
Brightly your radiance shines through the deep blue oceans
Where rainbows are misted with shades inside a desire born,
With curtains falling—revealing a beauty spot held precious,
Whilst in your heart glows warmly a true love priceless pure.
A royal crown bestoweth upon thine mantel of soft ‘n purest silk,
Now spangled as dewdrops glisten brightest on mirrored slippers,
As a divine swan upon one wave began dancing on joyous ripples,
An old Irish jig played on in this moment dancing you and I, as two.
The Merry Old Leprechaun looked on with his wee-soft eye twinkle
As the Sun Goddess giveth her divine breath to this sacred harvest;
Now to beareth the sweetest of fruit with warmest rays of gentleness,
So all can shareth this grandest garden moment of holy eternal glory.
We all shall now, forever and ever, prosper in this heavenly abundance
Whilst we sheddeth a most wee-curious light into this eternal paradise,
As you and I, and the Merry Old Leprechaun shareth a passion so true,
We drinketh gladly the sweet ‘n stout Irish Nectar of the Sun Goddess!
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (January 17, 2017)
(Quatrain)