Long Wreathing Poems
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I combed cool waters of your baby blue
crystalline Jewel as you waded waterfall
waves washing my stellar rainbow rays
arching it melted into the warm womb
of transducing tangoing Earth
Her Violet Flame devoured us both
as nectared dewdrops to fuel the fire
our soma swirling into ecstatic orange
oxytocined crane flowers whispering
wisdoms to a hundred yellow butterflies
fluttering and flirting
They circled a sunken Atlantean apex
atop where you ruled anew with Baconian
brown locks surrounded by sirens serving
savoury silver sardines, oolite oyster shells
sang solos as dolphins dived, oceanic mouthed
In Ancient Egypt you followed my runcinate
rulings or indigo sorrow siglums, sighing
becoming slimmed seeker who served
Thoth well whilst wreathing my wounded
worthiness and fallow fallopian tubes
at pyramidal plumed midnight hour
In our Grecian lifetime you draped alabaster
urns lighting my marble mantelpiece
I watched breath enter your nebulae nostrils
as you crafted provincial proverbs instructing
slaves to whiten your garb with lemons from
our sculpted garden
On lavender Celtic hills we exchanged kilts
not knowing whose waist was whose
barefoot we flaunted sleek sharp sapphire
studded swords dancing necessary wild wars
Who remembered and who forgot
where in ether our nestling niche napped
as games of betrayal, fear or doubt
doubled into involuting circles and spirals
each tried to neck THE VOID as naked
excuse for not excavating heaving Heart
How much escaping, escapades, evolutionary
clocks cloak our cusps or cues or custard
synchronicities
how many summer summit starlings must
seek to sing of sorrow or of wolves, withering
willows, watermelons on this Planet of
coloured curriculums
holding dear our distinctive designs where
lacy lament is but another aperture into Space
I seek not to know !
most think of hell
as a place we go
when toils the bell
sending us below
Fiery inferno
white hot flames
engulfing us
bodies burning
For an eternity
wreathing, twisting
paying for sins
done up here
The devil claims
us as his due
inflicting torture
tormenting our soul
This is what we
are led to believe
wait, think on,
forget hells fire's
Listen instead
to that voice within
sometimes a soft whisper
another time a roar
We pay all our lives
one way or another
pricks of consciousness
tearing us apart
People pointing fingers
shame of knowing
that we done wrong
guilt in our minds
These are the flames
that burn deep
consuming us
day to day
Living, remembering
trying to escape
from our wrongs
surely this is hell?
An alternative way of looking at hell I just pose a question nothing else
Word Lyric #8 for Music
“Living Ain’t Breathing”
Never mind the dead flowers, and the beige coffin,
We all sit here and eat burnt popcorn quite often.
We lie around and pretend we’re alive and kicking,
No sense in moving; we already gave life a good licking.
Now we play games in the darkness by the candle light,
We seek momentary bliss in the shadows of the numbing night
We peer and squint and gaze at the dirt from above,
We squirm motionless inside ourselves like a melting dove.
The dead around us are forever speechless in their wreathing,
They blink madly at the thought, that living ain’t breathing.
Never mind the drooping ferns, and the open coffin,
I have been sitting here, and dry heaving, quite often.
I just hang around and pretend I’m okay, though alive,
The dead cannot hear me; their pleas I cannot revive.
My soul reposes there, inside the bronze cushioned box,
As the face of my eternal love, though dead, still talks.
Escape is worthy from the endless flow of days and nights,
From the forever glow of a million incandescent lights.
The dead around us are forever speechless in their wreathing,
They blink madly at the thought, that living ain’t breathing.
Sponsor : Justin Bordner
WHERE LOVE LEARNS NO MORE
Where Love learns no more
two serpents crawling twine
one midnight black another
luminous wizardy white
entangled fanged bedazzled
circled by ultra violet rays
ultra red Sun the One
swimming in beet orange
mint mix elixir eclipsed
quiver quenches wreathing
writhing thirst as cerise
petals silently fall, crumble
dust to dust
Here howls no blackboards or
whiteboards no koki pens
pencils erasers or paint
no school bells ring
no Buddha
gongs neither singing bowls
no teachers gurus masters
or internet, memory, miles
history or futuristic dreams
nor Rumi poetic recitals
or even Gabriel’s angelic
harmonic frequencies
In deafening silence they
slither slide thrust open
skin on skin shedding
translucent spirals spinning
black imbibes white aglow
glistening melting moments
all else dissipates
two serpents exits explore
where Love has nothing to
learn but adore
God appeased appear
emits lochia, soar
observe serumed gyrations
entice enchanting narration
they remain darkly sage
silent shimmering sop
slippery slip illustrious dip
into hidden slivered
silver cords hanging
themselves naked new
wheeled throats bleed askew
Then from vulnerable bellies
delicate moths emerge
flutter one by one
become butterflies flit
making mauve milk
pixel pinprick serpent
eyes lightning shoot
first branches of
Tree of Life moot ~
an ethereal nightingale
tinkled appears, trialed
trigger timed
two serpentines transmute
into dancing flames free
stepping out of shadows
into silvery sematic glee
grace winged they disappear
into hymning hyacinth
Sky outlined in gilded
lyrical lore divine
In beckoning belly of Creation
L o v e has
n o t h i n g
to learn
Listen to the wind sweeping autumn leaves,
pirouetting amongst a citrine sunset.
Whilst light rain collects at corners of windowsills,
illumination from a crackling fire
bounces upon unpigmented mourning walls.
Silent weeping occupies microcrevices,
confined within the splintering memories.
The creaking of an antique rocking chair
melds with the restless nocturnal atmosphere,
of time no longer waiting in the shadows.
Sheer onyx fabric draped over photographs—
death came much earlier, not from hate or spite,
but to erase the endless suffering,
of years wreathing in perpetual chronic pain,
locked within fragile bones and a trapped mind.
So do not curse the gods, my dearest love,
nor get lost in voids of sorrow oblivion.
Know peace has now been brought to my tired soul;
I wait patiently until we are one again.
"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.
I awoke again from a sound sleep – as
with my previously described experience –
more a sense of spirit rising as opposed to actually
getting out of bed; before me, in the darkness, appeared
an old, dilapidated mansion, something
one might expect in a horror story – unable
to resist I found myself walking up the
creaking, wood staircase, then entering the
structure by way of squeaky door. Inside was a long hallway;
as I progressed deeper into the sanctum, to my
right were illuminated, glass enclosures
that I walked by, something someone might expect to
see in a reptile zoo or spider exhibit. Inside were
hideously tortured beings – arms were
attached, extensions of dead, leafless trees;
legs, sunk, welded into solid rock, black and
cold, not a shred of mossy green, not the sense of
anything remotely alive and thriving. They struggled
to free themselves, to no avail. I began hearing,
wailing: "Light! Light like I have never seen
before!" -- followed by crying, a shiver of teeth noshing;
"What do you want with us?", the wailing and
groaning now almost deafening. I replied,
I mean you no harm. Don't even know
why I am here. At the end of the hallway
there was curtain I parted...stepping inside,
only to be startled by a medusa-type-head
sitting on the floor – snakes wreathing from
the top where hair would be. "Paul Lucius
David...do you known this name?" I reassured
her, for I sensed it was woman, that I do not
know this name, nor I am here to harm
you -- the snakes wreathing wildly. "Paul Lucius
David. Do you know this name?" I don't
know who this is. "You will come to know this name" –
and it was morning".
I beg pardon, I'll try again, to gather
From your verse the voice, to align it with my own song,
May words flow in a magic pulse, under the clear moonlight,
Swaying in metaphor and dream, until I respond to you.
Wreathing my thoughts in the ephemeral flames of stars,
Amongst the equinoxes of soul and solstices of arched heart,
With love still kissing my bare soles,
I will drop into the night's carafe the gently diluted essence of life.
Oh, how I have loved! With longing suffocated in blossoms serene,
Harvesting hopes from dewdrops, upon corollas of dreams,
And I love, with a love that weaves beneath a cloak of clear skies,
Twirled in a dance of leaves, where nature in her secret smiles and whispers to me.
Under the canopy, my waiting builds castles on shifting sands,
With my heart, the flickering lighthouse, yet never it falls,
The umbrella of anticipation open to clouds of soaring flights,
Where happenings congeal in waits, distinct and pure.
I cannot confess whom I wait for, but wait I do,
Glowing with invisible wings, heart of untamed birds,
And still they fly, oh, how they fly, over seas of regret,
Seeking that song, plucked from all corners of souls.
What to do, I wonder, in a labyrinth of light and darkness,
My path is lost in the gilded web that weaves the horizons,
Mountains and forests rend inside me, waiting to unravel,
And seas of dreams retract, into the same mouth of the unreal, longing for breath.
In this realm born from a poetic anticipation,
Where groves bloom with promises to give and to receive,
And love's quiver rises, a delicate cathedral, finely crafted,
Over the soul a mantle of love is laid, in roots planted and at the tips infinite.
On the splendorous crown of my heart
shimmering in the cerulean night
you gleamed with the sequins of moon.
I tried to feel your sapphire touch,
but you glided away out of my sight,
across my sky I had carved for you.
In the verdant vale of my cascading heart
your footprints traced a turquoise trail.
As I walked on the deserted garden path
I discerned the remains of my love glow
in the mesmeric embrace of the moon dust,
drizzling with the patina of your grace.
From the darkened edge of the stilled night
storm clouds surged with thunders of strife,
splintered my sky of convoluted dreams.
From beneath the dispersed debris of despair
I gathered the fragments of my broken heart.
When you returned to my yearning sky
these turned into stars sprouting one by one,
bejeweled by your moonbeam lattice.
I configured my heart a crystal constellation,
wreathing an astral garland to embrace you.
Written : January 17, 2020
February 19, 2020
Contest : Strand Select U, Any Form, Any Theme
Sponsor : Brian Strand
Background B.B King it
You'll get home alone
A Quartering as Jazz
As quart and liter
As meter and mile
Footage and reconcile
Irish Quartermasters Gaurd
Kevin J. O'Meadhra
Trace as feather
Low of ash
Bury of quill
Fide et amore
Nightingales Ergo
Send in rot
Further, borrow
Scottish wreathing
Entangled Britain
Relent
They of leave
Twined as lecture
Recital of yellow
Beckon brown
Revile of green
Tustled hearth
Baby babysit looks like
It's gonna hail
Jump and jive
As sent to the SAG
In tawdry spent
The war is lent
The establishment of thy own
A hate filled thrown
As crimes as thine
Tinkle and toast
In a entire
Only as pure
The picture as haunt
Plagiarism
Stores front
Sufferer as complaint
In stilled poverty
I law
Joan had little art
Lythed command
Hinde weeps rather as waltz
Herculean task
Wardrobe mantle black
Opening Suggestion of Betrothed