In bejeweled jade landscape
the topaz terrain rolls relentless
on wondrous waves,
undulating with
the sculpted panorama
of pristine cadence,
entrenches in earthen frame
the sprawling shape
of a serene lake,
sublimely sparkling,
the sapphire shining face
looking up
toward the cerulean sky,
entranced.
The southern zephyr
whispers enticing melody
to the rhapsodic ripples
intensely passionate,
spread in seraphic span
of self-suffusing rhythm,
slide on slithering shadows
of the dancing trees,
lining the contorted contours
of the splashing shore,
adorned.
Malachite lotus leaves
float flamboyant
with pulsating fervor,
the ruby flush of full bloom
makes the collage
of fiery fresco
with fanning feathers
of flaming flamingos,
their ballerina legs wading
the emerald waters
in avian grace,
supple napes swiveling
in charismatic concerto
of aquatic ballet,
surreal.
In the hypnotic gleam
of the setting sun
I watch the lacustrine opera,
captivating.
i'm gagging
cursing the traffic lights
catastrophic sweat
i need that sensation when i pull into a decadent parking space
and walk from the car to the ticket machine
three hours early and stuffing my face back in the car park with watery meat juices
stationing the confectionary in the right cavity
memories of hot dogs and dr. robert greenberg
superb breakfasts and sparkling water
the lack of legroom in the upper circle
ushers and their laser beams into the back of heads like Predator
as they take their bows and the curtain falls and the applause ends
i yell to my son, "get to the chopper!"
The velvet curtain rises,
Tuning of the instruments
drifts through gilded halls,
The audience leans forward,
Waiting for brilliance to pour through the air.
Yet among the shimmering notes,
There are pockets of silence,
Elusive vibrations drawn across the seats,
Where sound curls in upon itself and disappears.
In the grand opera house,
Every breath and gesture is amplified,
But in hidden corners,
The aria falters, lost to a hush.
Listeners stare, puzzled,
At the singer’s open mouth,
Wondering where the power went,
As twilight holds music hostage, unseen.
The velvet curtain of the night slowly opens,
revealing a stage of infinite, shivering light.
We are the audience and the performers both,
forged in the pressurized heart of dying giants.
Every atom in your thumb; iron pulse in your blood,
once drifted as silent grit across the cooling void.
There is a symphony in the stillness of the vacuum,
a frequency felt in the marrow rather than the ear.
It vibrates within the collision of gas and gravity,
a slow, melodic collapse igniting a nursery of suns.
We look upward to find our oldest ancestors,
tracing the glowing debris of a trillion-year history.
The sky does not just loom above our fragile heads;
it lives within the very structure of our breath.
We are the universe looking back at own reflection,
a brief, conscious spark in the long shadows of time.
Do not fear the dark that weaves between the stars,
for you are the light that was promised at the beginning.
Carry the heat of the nebula in your quiet hands,
rejoice; sing the song that the elements first composed.
I'm eating a hot dog for breakfast
With mustard and ketchup
Watching lecture 18 of
'How to Listen to & Understand Opera'
Sometimes it's pain au chocolat,
But I'm in pain getting in the car at
6:41am; I drive in the darkness
Cuckoos, frightened birds,
Donkey-Jupiter, hurdy-gurdy
Tears, sorrow, cries
I hear the clouds -
See a chariot drawn by two frogs
I say out loud, "That's a mad silhouette of a person."
Such a description may well give the
Impression that the Earth is out of sorts
And every morning, this is the
Birth of comedy
I check the football news
There was a punch-up at the end of yesterday's game.
"Look how happy the crowd is to see a man being strangled."
The pig is in the poke.
will this matter in one year?
the backdrop of a full life
i watch the movements of the conductor
as he weaves between the instruments
and the house lights struggle to follow him
he knocks into a french horn
and there is a moment of giddiness
a moment of anger
there is an exchange of words, beyond banter
and luckily, they are not overheard
over the optimal acoustics and architectural splendor
the jacket needs to be readjusted
and a handkerchief is revealed from the inside pocket
as he wipes his brow and continues
continues to stare at the horn player
and the battle ends with the conductor
finding his way to the podium
the bloke playing the triangle whispers to the horn bloke,
"simply disengage, don't make eye contact,
and remove yourself from the situation."
the conductor turns, under the stage overhang
and mouths to the horn, "let's dance."
he smiles, then returns and his bow is made
put 'that's all folks' on his gravestone
what's wrong with people?
it happened on a friday afternoon,
when i crashed through the gates of our compound
and saw my wife and son walking along the pathway
and i turned the corner
and hurdled over the speedbumps
to beat them to the front door
i reversed into the driveway
as they appeared from around the bend
walking with pace towards our house
i parked and proceeded to slowly
open the driver-side window
as they stood on the steps before the door
and at full volume came Largo al factotum
Figaro here, Figaro there,
Figaro up, Figaro down.
i looked at my wife expressionless.
my wife looked at me,
and proceeded to lead our son inside.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nerites or D. Hyde and
person spoke f frequently by Anya Sofia Corazón,
Tabaluga, became jealous of this mister
wishing him misfortune.
He refused her advances not knowing
she had made interest into a relationship. She flaired her nose
and began seeking Nerites to remedy her ailment.Hetalia. loves me
but before i marry i wish Tabaluga mine
might I crush his feelings with my honesty.
I lack interest in you I will say to him
Than I shall marry Nerites and he shall be lifted befuddled
as I shall not want him!"Hygieia shall defeat Stercutus.
In the waters of Suder!
It makes me a better person
It's on my CV and I bring it up in conversation
It means I'm in tune with everything
I've discussed it in the kitchen,
Loading the dishwasher.
I cried in the basement thinking about it
I told a colleague at work that
I needed to talk to somebody
She asked if I needed to step outside
I stepped outside
I weeped on the steps of the building
I finished a can of sparkling water, then crushed it in my fist
The viewing platform for the harbour
The barren country road
I message my opera friends
They're out at an event hosted by DJ Anxiety
We are all crushed
Opera evening.
It was winter when I came home, having been in Spain for twenty years; cold and snow, and I wore sandals; I asked my mother for woolen socks, but she wouldn’t give me any since I didn’t live here anymore. My sister, who was there too, agreed. Having no home, I went to the cinema to see Casablanca, got lost, and walked through a maze of empty streets where everyone sat indoors watching TV; I could tell by the flickering blue light on the curtains. When I finally got there, it was an opera house and a premiere, with plenty of horse-drawn carriages outside, where the famous were being photographed and interviewed by a sycophantic, yet resentful, press that hoped the horses would bolt. “ I’m an opera lover,” I said, and sang an aria from Madam Butterfly, but they still wouldn’t let me in, the sandals you see. So I walked back home, only it wasn’t there anymore; it had been turned into a parking lot. It served me right for being away too long.
7 lines /7syllables
______________
she was touched by a phantom
becoming a phantom too
both boarded coral carriage
wheels grate cobble streets in mist
opera seats were waiting
then to swirl on dancing floor
she relished escaping hours
Sydney my love, Sydney my city
Splendour and majesty, nothing such pretty.
Sydney my love, Sydney my city.
First rays of the sun, spread here fun.
Opera, Harbour Bridge, Blue Mountain.
Pretty pretty places, plenty plenty beauty.
Sydney my love, Sydney my city
Clean clean beaches, green green trees,
Pleasant weather, cool cool breeze.
Kissing the shores, sea waives sporty.
Sydney my heart, Sydney my city
Kangaroo, emu, parrots, cockatoo.
4X fun, taste of barbecue.
Having flora and fauna, folk and fidelity.
Sydney my delight, Sydney my city.
Cheers of beers, music and dance.
Events and sports, friendship and romance.
People enjoy varied leisure activity.
Sydney my crave, Sydney my city.
In habitant's haven, half a hundred hills.
Love surfing thrills, basking when chills.
They toil for growth and prosperity.
Sydney my choice, Sydney my city.
People here thrive in an easy life.
Happy happy children with serene smile.
Over everything, supreme is humanity.
Sydney my pride, Sydney my city.
- S. D. Tiwari
Candle Opera
Have you ever taken time out to look up at the stars?
They shine bright from afar.
Seeing light dancing at night.
Feeling spiritually grateful all the time.
Looking up, counting your blessings.
Through an orchestra, the wind is singing.
Guidance along the path.
Growing old, time goes by fast.
Reach out and touch the flames.
Like a vivid memory that will always remain.
Water resides down a stream.
Candle Opera has a symbolic meaning.
Don’t take life for granted.
Through a song, listen to the message.
Take time out of your busy life.
From me I give you warmth in the moonlight.
I just wanted to show you my appreciation.
Thanks for giving me a chance through a colorful illustration.
You have been my inspiration till this day.
My love for you will never fade.
Fantastical notes of gloom filled the orchestra pit
Who was playing? No one was here. Except Paul.
He felt spooked after searching for the source.
A gremlin band, a ghost trio, a zombie orchestra?
The music was deliberate, harsh, off beat, nonharmonic
The hair on the back of Paul’s neck rose almost an inch
He felt threatened, for he knew he was alone here.
Or was he?
After a bubble bath last night
I left the water running
‘O, Soapy Mio!’
Heaven help me
pay for the plumbing
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