The sun lights up the air at dawn,
and crystal lutes play the tune.
We wonder whatever went wrong
as we choke on funeral fumes.
They leave it in the air tonight,
packed in slowly a tempest fright.
The fever spills upon the sand
as armies march across the land.
We play in time, the world cries,
out amongst the things that die.
The cinders come and draw us nigh
as we figure upon the lie.
To restrain the number called
while ladies dance inside the hall.
They look so lovely at the ball
just before the maddening fall.
I bleed, as though I'm hurt, by all your pains.
Your blood is flowing in each of my veins.
I sleep when you sleep. I'm up when you're up.
I sup and sip in your portion and cup.
I share in your conscious unconsciousness.
I'm bored with your lazy somnolences.
Your guilt-feeling crushes my deepest core.
I swim with you to reach the other shore.
We're one as the music of flutes and lutes.
Life sap flows freely in our shoots and roots.
Mirages of graves, coffins, and knells torn
Into an endless life, we will be born.
Bedroom Wall
Hidden in
the small space in
my bedroom wall are a
bit flared skirts (witches skirts only), fairy shoes, bottles of
elf arm hairs, alien dried poop, urine vials too, and
lutes of
egg whites rotting.
Plumes of peacock -
Silver sequins -
Halls and faces are aglow.
Music resounds -
Ev'ry lady
Is dancing around her beau.
Where is my friend
Who I wish would
Seek me hither presently?
Yet I, too, wear
A sequined mask.
How shall he recognize me?
I am the one with eyes so green -
The greenest this court has thus far seen -
And they shall search those who convened
For the fair knight of whom I'm so keen.
He wanders about nigh, I deem -
And he shall hold me in high esteem
And love me true once he has seen
My eyes, oh, my eyes so green.
Let the lutes play
For he found me
And his love lights up my life!
Ocarinas
Whistle a tune
As we celebrate tonight!
"Syzygy"
Behind the wet dunes
fringed with seagrass
a blood crescent
kisses the forehead
of dreamer traversed
twin aeon syzygy
barefeet the velvet
sophia imprints
softly speak
like words seen
dancing across
the place between
heaven and earth
mapping deviations
non-standard
calibrating alignment
played forward through
unchartered jaded
emerald forests
where the satin skin
becomes sparkling
crystalline it shatters
like a shell disgarded, then
the body of no substance
becomes transparent
enveloped in rapturous
Devabani heralding
commands cast
from divine throats
lutes and sitars
whirling nightingales
dervishes wingspanned
accompany angelic legions
the journey melts into
deep blue mysterious oceans
easily walked, hypnotic the
transparent beckoning,
this is the way come,
come, come closer
closer, come forward,
on higher Elysian steppes
the bride smiles
an unspoken secret
and turns
the eyes are
twin windows
like doorways
opening
swallowing
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Animals in top hats,
Ride bicycles en road,
Spoked wheels and pedaled spats,
Round about, in ornamental spode.
Animals in monocles,
Spectate in obeisance,
Cuffed by inked chronicle:
Renascence-linked complacence.
Animals in Model Ts,
Toot along en route,
To queue below burlesque marquee,
Bloating bruit by gloat and brute.
Animals in suits,
Sustained by entree manner,
Tasting morsels, cheering lutes;
To labor, bond and banner.
Animals in petticoats,
Puffed in crinoline,
Corsets sweep beneath the bloat,
Ensure the meal’s unseen.
Animals in linen,
Lain in duvets, eider down,
Sunken pelt a skin had been in,
Before its fur had come to town.
Animals in animal,
Adorned disguise of dermis,
Woven threads of blastemal,
Posture vermin with a vermis.
Animals in animals,
Piquant bones to gnaw,
Ascetic starving cannibals,
Feed on creed and law.
Animals in groups,
Extensions of the self,
Lain in egg to cracked coops,
Atop a thrifted shelf.
Instead of rounding out our edges,
To conform our shape to objects,
End the heed, the empty pledges,
Be animal: love and sex.
Married
The morning was bright and beautiful.
The day of our wedding, my love...
The smell of the flowers in the garden,
came through... every window of the house.
My spirit was lifted on high that day,
I know you would laugh... out loud.
I danced and pranced like a doe,
in the meadow...
I lifted my arms to the King.
Please my Lord,
please my Lord...
bless everything...
That is how I felt in April,
but the truth is that is how I always feel.
You make me happy,
like there is music playing,
lutes and flutes...
like there is bread cooking,
warm and fragrant in the air.
Your smile is unforgettable,
because it is my favorite thing to look at,
and the one thing I like to dwell upon,
when you are out,
on the tractor,
in the garden,
of our life.
Melody Maker
The music in my mind plays softly.
It is quiet today.
I can write and enjoy
each stroke of the pen
as it touches the paper...
like a lover for the first time
with their dearest one.
Gentle, soft, and methodical
the sounds interlace the moment,
with memory, to create remembrances
for later, when the resonances have lessoned
or stopped altogether. .
In the distance
I can see the white clouds,
they are rising slowly,
and gaining power, and physical strength.
My heart beats slightly faster, at the sight,
and the music responds.
Somewhere nearby
harps were joined by lutes,
and flutes.
Not dancing and prancing,
but bouncing against the unseen
droplets that will fall with the coming storm.
It has not happened,
but I know that it will... still.
I rush to finish the equation,
of love and forever,
the answer clearly presented.
The tune changed,
and rearranged...
the water touched the paper,
and caressed it anew,
the secret was then lost.
Wondrous…
Efficacy enhanced; potency proliferated;
Encyclopedia at fingertips concentrated;
Communication convalescent; multi-merchandised,
The universe, like a toy at infant’s hands, mesmerized...
Yet…
Psychic eccentricities; emotional erosion;
Disorientation; bedim in vision and mission;
Homes divided; globe compartmentalized, isolated,
Rhythm of cosmos, like music of broken lutes, muted...
10 February 2022
Let's explore digital technology Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Simon Rogerson
The selfsame page echoes wordlessly like barren lord
To write in characters of light, Oh! bucket headed bard
Understand, art-like slumber must set-the soul free
Beyond time's fabric walls, in boundless circles waterski
Across the black besmeared realms of dreary night
Where passion cleaves darkness with fanged light.
Tread forth into the beauteous lustre of things
And hark, how sweet the drunken nightingale sings
Cheering languid Cynthia and the slow bursting bud
Oh! come empty bosomed lad
Let the primeval tongue of deft nature teach
You how to fold forms into voluptuous speech.
The sun through verdure fields has unrolled
His sweet placid beam of burning gold
And how gaily whispers the roaming scented wind
Blowing voluptuous strains pleasant than sevenfold lutes combined
Revealing to the dancing emerald leaves galore
Divine secrets hoarded in mediaeval days devoid of law.
When the throbbing heart of nature tunes the soul
Grand refined wisdom is your to attain
Which nor cognitive lore nor pedantic clouds of scroll
Can ever shower upon the mortal train.
Beauty Celebrates Dawn
Beauty Celebrates Dawn's Exquisite Flush
Mauve melding into magenta’s fuchsia blush
Pink cherry blossoms hide the sleeping thrush
Crimson cardinals dream in amaranth hush.
Like Misty Nascent Opulent Pruce
Daybreak dances in orchid shades on boughs of spruce
Soft silvery pinks serenade with amethyst flutes
Bright razzamatazz of morning matins played on ruby lutes
Aurora Bears Cerise Dawning Energy
Sunup razzle dazzle watchman – copper rooster rises
Signals first light hues in shades of coral surprises
Daystar fills lilac light with synergy
Starshine Teases Unruly Violet Winds
Raspberry colored roses sing in sunrise runes
First watch fandango coaxes daylight with morn's mandolins
Day’s glory smiles upon vanishing vanilla amber moons
7-29-21
Contest: Alpha Lines Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
Pruce – a commercial shade of pink
How deep the stings that make men mistrust Love,
And women fly from comforts that Love brings,
And deeper is the poison in poisoned rings
That longing hearts refuse the thinking of.
There is no other station that can wound
As deeply, or as surely, as Love stabs
No other hook grabs deeply as Love grabs
And no lute, more than Love, as finely tuned
Can make my music sob, vibrate the strings
Of all the lutes that ever were, will be
With consonances. O! That I could Thee
Awaken, to the joys that Sweet Love brings.
But you would rather have than me, I think,
Brown eyes, brown hair, a Handsome with a wink!
London Winter Fantasy
for Amanda Root
Can they not see how daffodils
spring up to greet you where you walk,
how rays of early morning light
twine red roses in your hair,
how as you pass the sky above
fills with Sun and Summer blue,
how street lamps turn to apple bowers
or palms that bend to serve you dates
and Nelson nods as you go by?
How your voice plays lutes of air
that eager song birds flock to hear,
how deer stroll New Cross Road en route
to nibble apples from your hand,
while here my heart like some wild bird
fills the air with beating wings
wanting to tell them what they missed
what I have somehow heard and seen.
Oh,
The Midnight's Princess is awake!
She who brings light:
Shining upon the greenery of the forest
Penetrating through its coat of darkness
That overshadows joy... and let's fear linger
She who brings joy to all her people,
Sitting upon her cradle of stars.
Her light it is: that kisses each ripple in the lake,
Singing soft lullabies as it sighs in its sleep.
Her light that kisses the Earth with love:
Plants her blessed halo upon its beings,
And fears withdraw from a sleeping child's dream.
Her loving whispered voice, channelled through the prisons of bark,
She who sets all Dryads free:
Gives their freedom to dance free.
And Satyrs with their lutes and flutes,
Elven maidens, Nymphs and Dwarves,
They dance in the light of her grace:
Until the Midnight's Princess's chariot is driven away.
In not too long, we’ll see the spring,
for winter will have lost its cling!
Across this earth, we’ll waken to her sweet rebirth.
On the first day of spring, give praise and sing!
Rejuvenate; refresh; rejoice!
Welcome her with the gladdest noise –
In meadows we can meet to dance with merry feet!
Bring flutes, lutes, drums, and a resonate voice!
At spring’s debut, let’s all arise
with gratitude for her sweet prize:
of life, the renewal thereof, and love,
and promises of bluer skies!
Feb. 15, 2019
(looks like first day of spring was just this past March 19!! Praying for sunnier days, in more ways than one!)
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