Muslin Poems | Examples

The Bard's Babble

“The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.”

~William Shakespeare, As You Like It, Act V, Scene I

I weep by a stardust shore where the seraphs sing
Tangerine tears rain despair 'neath a velveteen veil  
My melancholic muse, muslin-wrapped in ice-cold caskets
Slain by ruinous romance swirled in absinthe abstractions

Despondent sloughs bespoke the depths of my soul
Saffron scars scream sonnets through metaphorical mists
Oh, how morose melodies paint scabs over pastiche strophe
Pregnant pause, so precious, submerged in lurid lament

But then it whispered, a voice unvarnished by purple plumes
A verse, it bloomed, untainted by thesaurus bleeds
Sculpting off silken scaffolds pasted upon profligate poetry
Leaving a profounder palate for plainer prosody

Fools thought wisdom speak in sequin-laced soliloquy
But wise men abrades from calligraphic charade

Ghazal grows from within

When your eyes get wet from within,
Ghazals mellow get from within.  

The why for this one just is that
Tears well in eyes, set from within. 

Clothes on washing thinner may get,
Scarce muslin fine get from within.

Doubt, mere wordsmiths make good pen,
Comes that innate skill from within. 

Let smoke, like hate, smoulder for long,
It can’t emit light from within.  

Each, every kind of carbon soot
Can’t like a kohl bat from within.   

Sky deludes as Nature’s false roof,
Get on floor, create from within. 
____________________ 
Ghazal |16.11.2024| poem, poet

Rescue of innocence

you have draped your innocence in the warmth of muslin
your dark eyes speak of your loneliness in this strange land
your lips whisper within yourself your desires
when they should be screaming out loud for justice
do not shed precious tears amongst heartless men
they might just mock you and subjugate you more
an age when most would be unfolding outer petals
you are a flower that has been robbed of its garden
your mother weeps inconsolably at home in her dark lonely room
your world was stolen from you for the pleasure of men
yet darkest corners of life have embers of god’s light
I see you I am here to rescue your innocence
I shall sweep you in strong arms of love and carry you home to safety

to mother.

Woe To You

You live in sapphire-decked castles. You wear soft muslin clothes.
The snugness of mundane wealth, like the termite, eats you up.
Though you care less for God, in his name, you dare to take oaths.
With your vanilla wines, the pains of the poor fill your cup.

You're already comforted, Jesus said; what more do you need?
Why do you need a heaven above when you have it here?
Woe to you because you've killed your soul due to your greed.
The unending furnace of the afterlife, don't you fear?

The tears of the poor you mock at utter: you'll mourn as well.
Do you, at your conceit, shout and jump as though on cloud nine?
You're galloping like a drunken horse, unaware of hell.
Cobwebs of lust, spite, wrath, and sloth have filled your inner shrine.

Could any bird, with a snake that eats its eggs, feel at ease?
On you, the wrath of the one who loves them will never cease.

Cosmos of Satin Purses

The stars are lighting up dusk’s aftermath
With a million Christmases’ twinkling light
Tiny dots to be connected in a serigraph
Covering the earth with a dome of white
To show us the Milky Way’s chalky path.

A full moon rises bursting with reflection
To illuminate the scene on a muslin scrim
Together nuanced in a perfect confection
Horizon to horizon, spilling over the rim
Meriting telescopic exploratory inspection.

Mysteries hide in these kaleidoscopic universes
Only dimly glimpsed by earth’s passersby
Golden coins in a cosmos of satin purses
Collectibles in the Creator’s successful try
Light of the heavens far beyond disburses. 

FIRST PLACE WINNER
Written November 16, 2022
Submitted to "Beauty of Night" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Sotto Poet

Purple Haze

Fields of lavender so divine
Withstand the test of endless time
Year by year with purple hue
Magical moment's fragrant debut.

Spray of lavender in linen chest
Between clean sheets summer pressed
Muslin sachets tied with bow
Lovely fragrant after-glow.

Redolent fields in purple haze
Sublime, serene will amaze
Fragrant harvest bringing pleasure
Simple lavender~perfumed treasure.



Purple Flowers
Poetry Contest
Sponsored 
by: 
Nayda Ivette Negron Flores
02/06/2022



Watercolour painting by: Karen Arnold
Public Domain

Dare Your Death

Enter your grave, as though a pilgrim, full of smile,
Within satin muslin decked coffin, sleep peaceful,
May death, the deathless (?), feel ashamed of his sly guile...!

Tomb, the womb of nature, has its grandeur and style,
Ask your guardian-angel! Make your stay blissful!
Enter your grave, as though a pilgrim, full of smile,

Body might decompose into bone - nerve - flesh pile,
Dwell, like a zen cloister; make life calm and graceful;
May death, the deathless (?), feel ashamed of his sly guile...!

You are, like a seed; you might remain for a while,
Each trial you face will make your journey tranquil;
Enter your grave, as though a pilgrim, full of smile,

Tell yourself stories that could make your stay worthwhile,
Bright corners must make you feel heartily thankful;
May death, the deathless (?), feel ashamed of his sly guile...!

Midst thunder, you'll see the son of man's arrival,
Hold on him and remain, for his graces, grateful;
Enter your grave, as though a pilgrim, full of smile,
May death, the deathless (?), feel ashamed of his sly guile...!


15 April 2022

A Note of Love

On the moist lips of a fragrant rose,
I found her in a precarious state;
Shivers ran through her lithe frame.
An icy chill and the hesitant drops 
Of rain drenched her muslin robe.

She was fragile, I thought she’d freeze! 
The dreadful thought was stunning to me. 
My hand reached out to her loving heart.  
She rose like fragrance n’ flew to my palm:
A fairy, an angel, a presence beyond words.

High above a rainbow of loving thoughts
She filled my heart and mind with light.
If only I could paint her beauty in words 
I’ll find the image is all yours, my love!
Wherever I am, I’ve eyes only for you.!

And with grace and in joy, the pages filled
With these poems of hope I wrote for you.
Of love from me to you and from you tome,     
A bond of true devotion and absolute loyalty
An honor to us as precious as life itself.

Hello, My Name Is

Three day's journey from Coachella to Paradise,
felt like adding beauty to my day, and you did.
Pretty painted toes peek from muslin wool socks,
all your nametag revealed: Hello, my name is...

Once looked at me wondering am I the one.
Let me spare you some disappointment, I'm a coward.
Hey, not squeamish at the sight of a little blood,
tho' scared I'll be unable to save you again cactus flower.

Sense a phantom pain from a missing limb,
still afraid I'm borin' you to death.
Laptop key tied to you in gentle refrain,
just another heart left out
by an absent-minded tin smith. 

Your illusions wistfully missed my cactus flower..
without true love, what a waste our finest hour.
'Til then let nametag be proof that we exist,    
a paper illusion called 'Hello, my name is....'

The Tigress

Tremble at this door child but do not come in yelled the Quent   
she an ogress at the end of her wits wearing muslin and flint   
was only looking for a King who could love her as she was  
When the angry boombox voice gave her quivering she went  
away, hunching her shoulders she glided away her ogre scent 

A little latch opened a flash of blue  a slant of eye then he re spoke 
"do you clean Kingdoms and can you cook, for a jaunty bloke?"
"oh for the love of God" she cried, I got teacups bigger than this place   
yes  I can wipe your palace, dust your crocket, just don't look at my face 
and so he let her into the Kingdom of JUA, and so began their chase

A little fairy magic in the soup was all he needed as he ate in one gulp   
contented as a Mishka, he cried out,  " my your skin is soft as pulp! "
From an Ogress to a Tigress, down she went like a pile of  timber 
while he headlong without haste planted a kiss so soft and limber  
that it opened her heart, henceforth they lived happily ever after .  

The End. 
December 24, 2020

The Morning Whisper

With sweet incline her ear is on dawn's arrival 
even if night reigns by day, she has no rival
only the morning contains her birthing vine 
Her ear is on dawn's arrival with sweet incline'

Dolce Amor upon the curve of her pillow rest 
is the indent of the dreams that loved her best 
only the dawn holds the whispers of her core 
The curve of her pillow rest upon Dolce Amor


She is the scented violet of his early fantasies 
more deep then the indigo of deep blue seas 
a muslin touch of running silk with eyelets
Of his early fantasies she is the scented violets'

Dolce Amor a rose and a bouquet of baby breath 
he knows that she will love him even until death
she is pepper on his heart and scented tuberose 
A bouquet of baby breath and Dolce Amor his rose

June 25, 2020

Sonnet 47 'My Wife, My Huntress, Rides the Holy Wind'

My wife, my huntress, rides the Holy Wind,
But still, daisies adorn her thick brown hair!
Her muslin robes blow out, her hair's unpinned,
Let dark thoughts try to chase her, if they dare!
For she outrides them all, strews flowers like hopes
And, with her hunting-dogs, argent, and gold,
She frees all prisoners, breaks all hangmen's ropes
A sure shot from her bow, and - young and old,
The wretched find their freedom come at last!
The hopeless rise and throw off fear's dull chains,
The blinded see the Now, Future, and Past
The horses lead their riders without reins!
Now, through the Night, she bolts like lightning's fire!
A fiery seraphim, who'll never tire!

Sonnet 34 'Take Courage, Friend, and Know Thy Love Is Near'

Take Courage, Friend, and know thy Love is near!
Death, mortal, can’t erase the prints of Love!
And though he try, with wetted thumb and fear,
To scrub Love out… Its signature is of
Diamonds, indelible as glyphs in rock,
Where only long forgetting wears away.
Love wears lace now, before, ‘twas muslin frock
And She will, veiled, visit – no shrouds, nay!
Bride unto Christ enthroned within your heart.
Ye two will scribe within the Book of Life,
The Record of your Love, perfumed by God,
And He will overlook all starts and strife,
And bless your scribing with his Holy Rod…
Thus so, in Heav’n, together Sweet Loves sing,
And bless us, here below, whene’er bell rings!

(written on the occasion, of thinking of a distant friend)

3/16/2019

Xenophobia In a Trump America

Xenophobia in Trump’s America

Black and brown foreigners, believes our blond superman,
Are taking our jobs, a racist approach, his Muslin ban
And support for building this xenophobic wall,
Have cost America Millions, let it fall,
Sad for a president to have more foe than fan!

My third limerick in my trilogy

Beach

The sky cries softly into the sea
Muslin mist offers comfort to the waves
Tide ebbs and sways like a returning lover
The sun playfully dips its chin 
to ease its unquenched heat
and insect sand wriggles between naked feet
The skipping stone with lessing effort kisses
liquid mirror
The land and water gentle and eternal
hold hands in hope
but always soon must part

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