Salvador Poems - Poems about Salvador

O moon, the blood-rose pearl of my aching soul, the ghostly seer of hourglass woes ~ heed these wistful words ~ forgive the dreadful quivers between cacophonous quiescence, tremors within lungs of lament, spears of piercing p a i n ... Read through...

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The sky is a Luciferian estuary rolling and roaring in crimson flames, a twisted design of detonated debris, like splitting sighs from internal implosions, raining fragments of the past: matchbox memories piercing through suffocating silence as time tortures the mind with flashbacks of floating fragility… O invisible moonlight, pour me a purple potion to erase the pain behind perplexed pupils. I no longer desire to be cast in...

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Caustic memories dissolve on my tongue Lingering tastes of battery acid and nicotine Cause me to choke on putrid saliva. Staring at melting walls, clocks tick in unison. Distorted birdsong hums outside of jagged windows Under the warped sun, an unrepentant landscape blurs. Freshly budding peonies liquefy; Veils thin, evaporating the...

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Dear Homeland Security Director No-em I feel compelled to write you this po-em They won't let me post bail Get me out of this jail I'm not a gang member and want to go ho-em! My bright and exquisite pink heart-shaped tat is being mocked by a gangsta in a Maga hat All hope I must banish I don't even speak Spanish My doomed...

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Standing in front of this enormous masterpiece, Seeing his life story as the layers release. I wasn’t warned to expect a wonder so rare. I guess I expected a melting clock here or there. Venus di Milo inspired his hallucinating toreador. Dali features her likeness fourteen times or more. Three of the statuesque figures are full life size. The painting is over...

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Collaboration With Di11y Da11y I see you there beneath the sheen From high atop my neck I lean Reflect upon the waters glare Beneath the sheen, I see you there Keep me stable, inverted trees In stillness to just be at ease I exist without judgement or label Inverted trees keep me stable In pensive thought, shadows cast I turn my back to futures past Uncertainty...

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Bahia of all saints, lieu where the people and the saints play ...

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subconscious genius by painting your own nightmares enlightened my dreams By David Kavanagh...

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Breast with me, beating like a bird. In our moment all hope soared with a fragrant moon and kissing was the mixing of culture. At these depths I felt what tore at the threads of your music. I met the guns of El Salvador. I touched the pallid flesh of your dead riveted friends. I hosted your nightmare of butchers. Your fingers are refined for the making of music. Your thumbs are peasants, ready for revolution. Published Black...

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did I hear poetry being read or was that all in my head because everything you've said well written what i've read that your words are poetic but enough said because you could say the word s**t and my heart would take a dump...

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Did I even Mention before? Theres some tension in my core I can't be silent, no more I always close my doors And try to forget unsettled scores And try to complete undone chores Try to numb myself Set on collision course Try to hold down Hulk With incredible force Rather facing Emotions ignored To myself I swore Never to fall unless sure Unless I find myself adored Unless...

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His mind is know to roam But he's not one to rat With very little known About Salvador Dali's cat Whips his tail back and forth Fourth dimensional for all it's worth All this time sitting in Salvador Dali's lap His thoughts are known to wander But he's not known to talk Purring like a cosmic generator On Salvador's melting couch Electric fur stands on end Grooms...

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Melting clocks hanging from the branches of trees. A strange array of objects without time or place. Butterflies emerge flying against the breeze. Nothing makes any sense within this inner space. Salvador, you brought us into a world so strange. A motley of colors within a plane of two dimensions. Disseminated disproportionate entities within a range. Few of the brightest can...

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Below within the dwelling deep, while tumbling in fitful sleep; the rumble-hum of furnace keep; the mouse and Cat Lord Bo-peep. Fluttering lids and labored breath below within the dwelling deep, furious dreams do waken sleep attributes of childhood’s bequeath. Horrors rise on temporal tides a stew of insanity bides. Below within the dwelling deep, the cat fiddle-screeches life’s weep. Dali cobbles retinal creeps the mind dittles and...

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Intense lust for Gala Provoked thoughts within the frame Dreams on stretched canvas By Robb A. Kopp...

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