Thrilled to travel to a coastal region in India, I was only six…
with my mother and a little sister, lived in relative's palatial bungalow,
admired lace curtains with hand-embroidered pictures of deer and peacocks,
plush carpeted floors, elegant furniture with glass-top tables…
what took my breath away was the evening stroll, a few minutes walk
to the beach, frolic with sapphire waves lapping on the shore!
sometimes couldn't race back fast enough as we chased the waves,
slipped, and got fully drenched, our bodies covered with sand.
sublime chimes from a temple announcing evening-prayer mesmerized senses,
taste-buds were satisfied with plain but mouth-watering treats -
luscious fruits, crunchy nuts, pieces of sweets, savoury bites,
I still hear the splashing waves, when holding the conch I collected, to my ear,
remember the ethereal colour of the vermilion sunset on the horizon,
lonely fishing boats sailing far away in the sea as if with no destination,
emerald water and amber sky touching each other in an embrace.
Palatial the vapid moon
Saints demure often taken and schooled
Haverhill aplenty
Goosebumps ashore gifted
The honorable Mai Tai pools
The stanza was written in trailed off silver, circle over circle was wound to form silvery words, embossed around them though the palace sheltered paintings of razor-thin wings bespeckled with blood imprisoned sonnets that zip and fly with the hub, palatial and so endearing, the disembodied whispers are like paint peeling.
Black velvet night
diamanté lustrous glow
sumptuous V neck dip
enchanting lush graced serene
Dramatic gown
Coco Chanel garnets glint
palatial swooning art
indelible presence haunt
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[Contest : Texture of Minimalism
Sponsor Nette Onclaud
17.11.25 : 4th Placing : Standard Contest
________________________
~ PALATIAL ESTATES ~
ponies… waterfalls… rainbows…
... pickleball... wrecked... all
placid palatial paragraph
penned by polly poet
perfect personification
prose and poetry prettiness
proving preconceived perfection
When the existential magic disappears
And life holds nothing more than
my terrestrial tears and frivolous fears
When feeding my mind is no longer empirical
Or essential, as human hunger suffices,
when I no longer thirst, and eminence gives no rise,
and sullen shibumi canopies worn and torn
shade not the arid and hot desert, once the lofty
snow summits forthwith cloaked in thawing toxins
Or the ruby rose that does not scent me, reminiscently
as its thorns prick crimson numbness
Tasteless is the blood from this warrior’s sword
And Lords with rattles of snakes poison less
Horns no longer adorn me, my ashes freed
I’ve heard of a hall of the slain,
where dead heroes reign
When our world gives way to the next
Where golden shields a palatial fortress
Take one more fallen warrioress,
to other realms, plush, pristine, called
Valhalla, an afterglow
Sumptuous sensual satin surroundings
Treasured plush, palatial, plushy pillows
Upholstered sofas, tasseled tapestries
Valued prized spoils of war
Wealthy coffers of the lucky highborn
WE GO 2 WAR
- Hughes/Maldonado, FUNK, 2008
--------------------------------------------
War
is just
decision
made in comfort
of palatial rooms
fed by self-interest,
ego, fear, fame, hatred, greed,
not counting cost of destruction
deaths, displacements, disabled lives, loss.
Trifling matter for decision-makers.
How many healthy lives wasted for this?
How many families wiped out clean?
How much money spent to keep up?
detonate, bombard, shell, blast,
decimate, shoot, snipe, spray,
raid, hostage, exchange?
Just red-blood spills
unjust deaths
nothing
else
How then shall I show love for our sisterhood?
Our mother’s baby birthed on this joyous day
A festive time with wishes ‘happy’ and good
No balloon filled room, cake, gifts on display
Belief systems stand first it’s well understood
So, in all due respect and come what may
Just poetry for YOU showing how I care
Without words which may displease God, I share
Without salutary words which may offend
In toughest of times with me you’ve always been
Soulful eyes I’d run to, my hurt you’d suspend
One hundred, forty four thousand for heaven
My selfless sister shall be one in the end
Devotion has earned a palatial inn
Forever dwelling on a pure restored earth
A poem for you this day mother gave birth
She struts
from the pages of infamy
Black bold and beautiful
No straightening of her Afro
She owns her gorgeous
Forget “The man,”
She’s got things to do
Not concerned with his master fetish
In her world women rule
If you cross her
Honey you are the fool
Her voice is smooth dark chocolate
with just a hint of bitter
She’s both a saint and sinner
No skinny thinking
Curves are for winners
There is rhythm
running through her veins
She is steeped in strength stories
birthed from palatial pain
When you try to hold her down
she rises up again
Her every page
the hidden embodiment of America History
She faces the future
clothed in mystery
Hear her harmony notes
On forever she floats
Faithfully fantastic
she’s the embodiment of hope.
She’s every true story
that has ever been told
If you try to confine her
she’s impossible to hold
Add your own
chapter line and verse
You are born from nobility
quench your inner thirst
Perfection
doesn’t need to be rehearsed.
Dedicated to my friend Valerie Thibadeaux in honour of Black History Month.
Dance your soul into a candlelight moment where the flame is bright
waltz to the music of your heart inside the center of this golden room.
Swiveling confetti floating down upon your shimmering astral self,
enjoy these heavenly notes of love, for they are coming from above...
A Candlelight moment on the heart, is what it is, my dear soulful one
step by step you are invited in, to join the Universal energetic sphere
Bound onto heaven's palatial perfect place, of happiness and joy
swivel into orbit and meet the stars, the moon and planets too
Turn away from worries of this world and enter the jovial freedom
of soaring way above yourself, into a place of solitude and contentment.
Join the magic of the sky and swing onto a branch of heaven's garden
live in the moment of breath and take each one slowly each intake counts
when you are meditating.
Open your heart and enter the cradle of your peaceful place
thanks the God's and Goddesses of heaven, for all that they bring
in this great moment of peace, its a candlelight moment on the heart.
Oh ye tortoise
The longest living land animals in the world
You who bear the weight of the world on your back and yet walks with a palatial gait
From your hovel, you watched the hills and valleys mate
The oceans and seas retreat
Large four legged beast extinct
And smaller two legged emanate
Oh ye tortoise
You who walk slowly but never afraid of a race
You who feel safe and protected in its own house
You who walk on your toes like an elephant
Discerning with your eyes almost like it's squinting
Oh ye tortoise
One of the world most amazing diggers
With front legs armoured with sturby scales
Adorned with your clandestine ears
Carvernous bladder like a cauldron
And brawny beak for shredding and grinding foods
For decades, you epitomized wisdom and cunningness
Unchanged since prehistoric times
Misconstrued for turtles
Still men can't seem to decipher your morphology.
(C) PoeticLord
JANUARY 2023
If you lean slightly left
while facing the sewage plant
then that view of Ohio
could be back in the 18th century,
there's even a long cabin
resurrected from somewhere else
and replanted here.
The Wright Brothers palatial home
is now maintained by the State,
the 'flyer' hangs in a museum
built upon an old Shawnee village.
The 'hood' nearby
litters itself and craps on the once
well-to-do houses;
it's enough to make an old Indian cry.
Time meanders around
an invisible clock face,
even the future
has one ox-cart wheel
stuck a rut,
while the other spins slowly on.
She turned into a palatial palace.
Unsure how herself, but it happened.
One day she was a glorious cottonwood tree.
With sparkling shiny reversible silver and green leaves.
Maybe it was because she had never been a city?
But somehow during the evening she began to transmogrify.
Now she is a city, wearing apartments, skyscrapers and sidewalks.
She likes this too, not as well, but she finds something good about it.
I like changing her one of the goddesses said.
She is a light in the forest, always looking for the good.
And finding it too! Said another goddess.
Shall we keep transforming her?
I do not see why we would stop.
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