Long Sylphlike Poems

I heard the dreadful Dryad's scream
As axe bit into woody flesh
The sap oozed out as scented cream
My veins stood out in rictal mesh

My wits all scrambled left me quick
My hands and face were full a-sweat
My...

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Baseless incriminations heaped upon head of missus...
courtesy evil ferocious wraithlike grimace

Acrimonious scurrilous words
flew out the mouth
of vicious nasty shortish brute
leaving yours truly
as a key witness dumbfounded.

Outrageous spluttering claims
of stolen parcels
plus ransacked jewelry
totaling to the tune
of...

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(Piece is intended to be the most complex vocabulary gothic ever)

Grandiloquence,
mellifluous pulchritudinous,
gaiety of quintessential moistening serendipity,
bile deluge if you show the sanguinary breath,
crimson waterfall sizzling on lava rock hellscape.

Yclept necrophelia maestra,
macabre tableau,
dips douse abyssal incarnate,
now...

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The breeze of the morn she sought.
     Her eyes were wild, as she thought.
Her hands tremble like a leaf on a tree.
     She marked her steps silently.
Sylphlike...

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Eyeless it manifested from the depths of the abyssal darkness of the woods.
Hide reflective more muscle almost fleshless ribbon peeled back skull necklace.
Limbs contort and pop grotesque as it moves closer permeated hiss from its...

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“The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” Rumi


Upon my quest for quintessence.
I was an amorist, 
positive in poetic philosophies.
Elysian and empyrean effigies,
enlightened in an ephemeral existence.
Life a fragile garland 
festooned with a...

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Written: April 16, 2024

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Aloof seashore, unmoored and carved
Ambrosian aesthetically alluring 
In twilight's yearning glance,
Once loaded, linger and hinder
Stars strewn swathing sapidity sky 
Nostalgic aura...

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Visceral incantation from onyx velvet lips,
moan, groan, to twist my bits as a witch.
Salem pyre ancient oak standing the edifice,
wrist shackled chains gather round vile cultist.
Breast bang dolorous dirge ignition of limbs,
Rictus permeated rancor give...

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Written: March 09, 2024 For Charlotte Puddifoot Contest

                           ...

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IS HE ME?

Today, whichever man is now with you
Whoever is doing that which we used to do
Whoever gets to feel what I once felt
I hope he appreciates the sexy, sylphlike and svelte

To whomever your heart...

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her ethereal gaze tucked    me into nirvanic waves
tore me asunder amid    quixotic abyss and seraphic throe 
I harvest pearls    from mollusks in swimming oysters 
strip it in kaleidoscopic...

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Wrapped around the sylphlike waist
the sumptuous silk chiffon sari 
is hand-gathered into even pleats,
likened to the petals of a flower,
and is tucked bewitchingly below the navel
baring the midriff alluringly.

The loose-end Pallu, crosses over
a sleeveless bosom-hugging...

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The wind is a Giant.
He chases clouds, sends them
scudding across the sky,
seduces trees to sway
sylphlike as a ballet.
Flags become flapping, 
snapping whips in his grasp.

The wind is a Devil. 
He uproots trees, bends 
and twists...

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