Long Myrtle Poems

"As other spirits sail on music, mine, oh my love, swim on your perfume." Charles Baudelaire

"Sometimes you find an old bottle from which the soul returns." 
Charles Baudelaire

"Smell is a Word. Perfume is Literature."

"There are...

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Sometimes I have the courage to think of the things that made me what I am today,
My memory takes me back to terrible things far away far off into my bitter past,
My mind like a...

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Mother nature oh! Rose of roses!
Mother of all flowers' and smell,
Ylang Ylang! You don't know what it causes!
An aphrodisiac turns you on like hell!

Sandalwood with its masculine warmth poses,
Rosemary clears the head, you can tell,
Peppermint...

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I dwelt once in a dreamy town, my land was alongside the border,
In a region of natural beauty, next to a crystalline body of water.

From the jade hills of my land, I could clearly see...

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The rainbow has 7 colors set in an order.
From the very top to the bottom of the arc;
Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet.
Such are the colors we see in every rainbow.*

When our skin is...

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Earth         was a perfumed garden
residing in a single                   ...

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The robbery of the soul...
The trampling of boundaries 
like a frenzied stampede of 
elephants..
The cutting of ties that bound 
us with reckless abandon.
 Emblazoned with it's name, 
PRIDE, across the blade,  
It's a slash...

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“Look! The aging poet sleepwalks again.”
“Sir, should we wake him from his nightly tour?”
“No! God no! His heart could not stand the strain.”
“He’s heading for the open study door 
His ambulant steps on the floorboards...

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Lorca Translations III

Federico Garcia Lorca (1898-1936) was a Spanish poet, playwright and theater director. He was assassinated by Nationalist forces at the beginning of the Spanish Civil War and his body was never found.

Paisaje (“Landscape”)
by...

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I know I've been to Chicago,
     But I only remember the snow.
I know that I've been to Albuquerque,
     but I mostly just remember the hot marketplace
 ...

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Lorca Translations II

Canción del jinete (“Song of the Rider”)
by Federico Garcia Lorca
translation by Michael R. Burch

Cordoba. Distant and lone.
Black pony, big moon,
olives in my saddlebag.
Although my pony knows the way,
I never will reach Cordoba.

High plains,...

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“I am somebody’s child, and I need attention, I am somebody’s child and I need affection, I am somebody’s child and I need love and devotion”, she murmured as she walked through the door. She...

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I love to travel anywhere, the more foreign the better for me,
Strange lands and how other people live is very interesting to see.
This travel bug I caught got started when I was only eighteen years...

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Myrtle Parker

Myrtle Parker lived on the Riviera,
That’s the English one not the French.
Her favourite tipple is Red Currant Cider,
Only beverage her thirst would quench.

Never did she marry no husband,
Preference for life single and free,
Though kept...

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What would it be like if you lived in paradise, what would it like if you didn’t have to work for the rest of your life? What would it be like if you could travel...

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I.

Eros walked slowly through the forestland,
   Near Mount Olympus, in the soft twilight.
By his side, he held his bow in his hand,
   As he walked on through the advancing night.
Above the...

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Standing in a foreign nation, fragrance from a fresh cremation
Lost and long forgotten by the beasts that roamed my home
Nights are dark and gloomy but the tundra’s so damn roomy 
Here is where I want...

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This piece was done with help from a friend, Homer(@chrysomer on Instagram), please do check him out. We took turns, alternating with each line. He began, then on and on it went. I’ll be starting...

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The summer of 2000
stuck in my mind for eternity
A sight that I'll always love to see.

There was a lot of bad
very little good and 
I remember the bad 
way more than I should

While bad things...

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 Hearts torn & twisted --- All left to rot
The hate swarming & flooding rapes me inside
I wish to wake up in a hospital sometimes on a sexy nurse's cot
Burns & swells with adultery he...

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Lord have mercy on my soul
I know you never you wanted to see your your son walking in the cold
Hanging out in the slums, 
I have hundreds of thousands of dollars why am I hanging...

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your like my second mom...
but for some reason, 
this is really hard 
to write...

this poem is supposed to be 
about you and me
well that could 
turn into a 
a novel...

we have been through so much,
you...

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You’ll never know but you’re all I can think about.
You’ll never know but I love you with all my heart.
You’ll never know that the safest place in the world is in your arms.
You’ll never know...

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Olive was vibrant and deliberated in awe in front of her wardrobe

Should she put on that glorious fox pelt for the night’s Hunters Ball

Surely it had to be politically correct and she would claim her...

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November 1968: The Hunted 

Got divorced couple years ago, second time
At first, I mirror myself as a low-life loser

Jack without Jill, McGee without Molly
Ossie without Harriot, Adam absent Eve 

No fourth finger, gold band of...

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