eagle on the peaks
of the Himalayan hills ---
does not palpitate
Everything your heart desires,
All that for you life requires,
Can be boiled down to one thing,
That in this gift resides.
Want you not the treasured things,
That others crave - like diamond rings,
And cars and riches and the rest,
But in this gift abides....
A luscious hoard of dazzling hue;
Blinding, lavish and for you...
The symbol of your deepest thirst,
Which this gift satisfies.
No more will your heart palpitate,
Nor will you capitulate;
To trivialities of life,
That this gift overrides.
So go forth quenched and full to brim,
No longer are you the victim.
Of unrequited longing for,
That which this gift provides.
In this your palindromic year,
Despite how rancid you appear.
With finger raised and scowl affront.
We gift this gift besides.
Let me tell you what women do,
After a child’s delivery is through.
The birds, too, know: they jubilate
While animated ones ululate!
Adoration of baby simply true,
Eyes feasting on the frail thing Glad Glue
Foreplay’s sex women simulate
Hoping to future births stimulate…
A-once-childless his bad luck slew:
The same as saying ‘Reproach flew!
‘Unmarried’ to Married’ imitate,
Long celibacy to hearts palpitate…
Wriggling of waists no wasted strength,
Face powdering taken to a length;
“Who in the end shall look like baby?”
Talcum, help me to seem a baby!”
The powder is not free; you drop cash;
To declare one has no cash rash!
No Longer a Satisfying Symphony
When the piper plays the pipe,
Our hearts flutter,
At the sweet soft melody.
The piper all set up and tuned,
With his little snare drum
Begins to work his magic,
The piper plays,
Electrifying symphony of flavours,
His skills so magical.
The pleasant harmony produced
warms us up,
It reaches the depth of our souls.
The spontaneous rhythm
Spurs us to dance to the beat,
Possessing us profoundly.
But,it is not the piper
who dictates the tune,
It is he who pays the piper.
And most times,
He who pays the piper
dictates the tune of shame.
And we're all forced to listen
to the unsatisfying symphony of
a skilled and magical piper.
This time,when the piper plays the pipe,
Our hearts no longer flutter
but palpitate in disgust.
He who pays the piper
Dictates the tune,
That no longer satisfies.
Memory tends to glorify a place. Growing up in West Texas, one of my favorite memories is going out with some of my friends to the "sandhills" just outside of our little town and camping out on a Friday or Saturday night.
We sit
Beneath a desert sky
And watch the aisles of stars
Leading away to infinity
As our breaths catch
And our hearts palpitate
In helpless wonder
We listen
As a desert breeze
Whispers the enduring story
Of the boundless and eternal love
Of the passionate paramour sky
For the coy and maidenly horizon
And how their mystic
Ardor for each other
Is quenched and satisfied
Twice each day
In the rapturous beauty
Of dawn and twilight
We sleep
Beneath a desert moon
Peacefully in the aqueous shadows
Of starlight
Lullabied by the ancient duet
Of the welcoming naked earth
And the caressing desert breeze
His eyes, like cornflowers, are pretty blue.
From where I sit in back of class, I gaze
at his soft lips – two petals sweet with dew.
I think that I could stare at him for days,
imagining at least a hundred ways
to make him finally aware of me!
Oh, dreamy boy, please take the time to see
the girl whose heart begins to palpitate
when you look back at her – though randomly!
You’re keeping me too long in this dream state.
Feb. 8, 2022
Theme #3: Dreamy
For the D Forms - Dizain- Poetry Contest of Constance la France
LI FE and LOVE
Life proceeds to progress:
Brain functions to aggress.
Eye to Eye sudden glance
making both minds to dance.
Eyes sparkle, shine, glisten.
Lips whisper, ears listen.
Sweet sentence to murmur.
‘I love you’ in amour.
Sacred soul sleepless gazer:
In trove of divine treasure.
Senses propel, propagate:
Heart knows to palpitate.
Pearly passion to surge:
Slips, drifts emotive urge.
Exciting ecstasy.
Holy hearty classy.
Heart pumping bubbling blood
Opulent flow in flood.
Heart to Heart unison
Most sweet the conclusion.
04/08/21
The art of real living falls upon the inert egos of us all and their antiquated mused ill givings. When we can encounter those mannered inequalities that keep us intolerant and locally dead, forlorn to a fault and viscous in our vows,
dig deep into an hitherto undone voyage for that quantum ecstasy ecoquotient; compatible,
but ever illicit in their aged desires to domindegradate all living things.
Unless we can alter our ignocomplacency with a supreme and stalwart Awareness;
to begin to discover the stuppored laziness of thee/our inner self,
the spiritual safety net binding us all,
it will surley lead us down a path of never neverness of scope and eventual extinction.
Only when we begin to thought palpitate unconditional loving amidst a nirvananess aplenty, being our Souls first,
can we collectively begin to visualize, aspire
take a one now first step toward
a truly evolved consciousness, viable and worthy of our species
with constant universal continuance proving our
measure and compassion to exist.
Amidst the vortex of empty time, going back a calumnious climb,
To change a love my only crime, sweet surrender of life sublime…
The Time Machines are ready still, sending me back upon my will,
To gain back love I shall fulfill, amongst meadows of the daffodil.
Evaporating reflections in my eyes, hands of time turning clockwise,
May the love we had apprise, as I look at the darkened distant skies…
The stars align for I await and the planets rebuttal in their debate,
The Time Keepers guard the gate, within their arms I leave my fate.
In perpetuation of times expanse, chronological clocks in romance,
Cupid’s arrow is ready to lance, while my heart prepares to dance…
I approach my love once more, will their love palpitate with a pour,
Guardians of time open their door as I awake out of bed on the floor.
Oct.07.2019
...turn back the hands of time
Sponsored by: Silent One
Placed 2'nd...Thank You
Slow and drowsy
Throughout the garden
From one scent to another
Fluttering here and there
Dizzy and groggy
Haphazardly
They stumble
Barely bumbling
They dance with feeble wings
They flit and hover
The way they palpitate
Buzzing in the cool autumn air
Taste testing late bloomers
Under that late September sun
They perform most graciously
Their final waltz of the year
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~BYGONE DAYS OF SUMMER~ 2020
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
How humbly hover honey bees
betwixt and 'tween as flowers preen
in April's opalescent sheen
and petals palpitate in breeze.
Beside an arbor's graceful ease
of roses splayed in promenade
with poppies sprayed across the glade
how humbly hover honey bees.
While lilies lilt beneath the trees
the sunlight dapples daffodils
that pose in pots upon the sills
as petals palpitate in breeze.
How humbly hover honey bees,
purveyors of the pollen yield.
As petals palpitate in breeze
they fend the fragrant flower field.
8/24/19
Oh my son!
Day and night, you inflict your gloomy soul for me,
I’m your bookish loving father,
My love and quest for poetry leaves me busyish,
You hope I will come back home soon.
Oh my son!
You want to throw up the sponge,
Feeling the ironic rebound of my poetic lines,
Lies called truth and truth called lies,
Yet, I still wear my apparel that mutes guilt.
Oh my son!
I know your heart is full of speechless sorrow,
Your soul compressed into a single agony of prayer,
In a misery of annoyance and mortification,
You palpitate with rage and wounded sensibility.
Oh my son!
I’m so sorry, and will be home at dawn,
Please forgive my perfect imperfections,
Because I’m already made of flaws,
But stitched together with good intensions.
But if I die young,
Bury me in glass casket,
Lay me down on the bed of sound and lyrics,
Sink me in the ink at night,
Send me away with the words,
Written in metrical feet forming rhythmical lines.
Stage is set
Participants in place
A wolf moon smiles
Bright stars palpitate
Roses in a garden
Lovers sitting on a bench
Hand sending messages
Lips kissing to undress
Bodies on fire
Temperature’s hot
A voice sweetly caressing
Baby don’t stop
Owl hoots Whoo Whoo
Squirrel’s a little bit shy
Scenes of Spring magic
On the screens of our lives
Love intoxicates
Makes your heart palpitate,
Makes your emotions radiate,
Scaling highest current, electrocuting feelings.
Love is bad
Love is hard
Love is bald
Love is mad.
Tune you strange to other maidens,
Beat your heart strong, mend it rigid.
Funny it tends: to the choice colleen.
Drives your mental horizon to the alleys of worry.
Love is sweet,
Love does prick,
Love is weak,
Love is thick.
Sweet like candy solution-ed with strawberry,
Pricks your heart, drags your brain: making them enemies.
Weakens your thought, mar your dealings,
Moisture your veins, thicken the lotions in your reins.
-------- -------- ------ ------- ------- -------- ---------
Driving you like a Bremen Bull,
Crazed UPSTAIRS, all earth pull,
Hurting the soil with its hoof,
Till the craved cud it chew.
18:09:11:09:03
Josh Berry
I know the one who
made my heart raced,
to palpitate uncontrollably,
to make me shake
as if I have a fever.
I know the feeling experienced.
Out of the world I roamed
the whole galaxy.
Time stood still,
wishing for it not to end.
For that touch
I will give anything.
Her warm embrace
is like heaven.
Her breathe as fresh as
the morning breeze of
a cool windy beach,
her skin so soft
with a fragrance like that
of a rose petal.
The soul that never
loved is lost,
it is only that kind
that lives in hell.
Sometimes life is
about risking everything
for a dream no one
can see but you.
You will never know
the real value of a moment until
it becomes a memory.
Right now I have some big,
happy, jump-in-the-air news for you,
my friendly lover and my most loveliest
friend is here.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
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