Short Silvers Poems

thawing mountain spring
silvers down to mirror lake....
earth, sky reflections      ...

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fish and chips
worth the trips

Long John silvers have the best
gives your wallet plenty rest

their fast food
is real good

if you’re asking why?
come give it a try...

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All the fluttering flicks of the dewy-leaved trees
Send showering silvers to kiss and please,
But our lips, slim smit in the midst of these,
Send shuddering shudderings right through our knees!...

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All the fluttering flicks of the dewy-leaved trees
Send showering silvers to kiss and please,
But our lips, slim smit in the midst of these,
Send shuddering shudderings right through our knees!...

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The world’s mine to obtain;
I will firmly grasp all of the treasures it holds.
The world’s mine to obtain,
full of living toys existing to entertain.
Overflowing with precious gems, silvers, and golds,
my safe to store everything ‘til it rots and molds.
The world’s mine to obtain....

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To children's eyes in mid-December,
a city street winks and twinkles.
The towering collage of lights and patterns
seems majestic and surreal.
Silvers, reds, and living greens
all conjure up exotic scents and
whisper hints of private promises,
smiling, shining, blowing kisses....

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Oranges, blues, reds, greens, yellows, silvers too
Prance through my house showing me immense love
Pirates, dragons, witches, a horse in blue.
Inspired by ancestors way above
Fantasy paintings helped my life come true.
My poetry has given cartoons a shove.
Creativity to myself is due....

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Decorating the house with reds, greens, silvers and gold.
The Christmas season simply never gets stale or old.
Jesus is fine, Santa a big deal for the excited children here.
Who can resist frosting stars, bells and trees with grandma dear?
Christmas is our go-to holiday, makes my heart sear....

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I breathe, exercise, rest, jump and eat to paint
Loud neon canvases, nothing dull or quaint
Acrylic reds, greens, blues and silvers are on my finger tips
In my hair, on my wrists, under my arms and on my lips
Globs of orange were on my thighs and legs today
How they got there artist me refuses to say...

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Today -
They are enjoying whilst living high on the hog 
in the rain of black money, silvers and gold coins.
Oh! Poor souls, don't you all know that 

after death -

the rain of black money will
convert into the rain of fire.

Moral - Be honest in Christ. 

- Augustus Black
Date - 7th June 2016...

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Carly was born on 2nd January 1986,
And was so impressed by 2012 London, 
That upon wheelchair racing she’d fix,   
Until she made the world’s palladium. 

In 2014 she competed in Switzerland, 
An then in 2016 she flew to Grosseto, 
In Italy, where the Europeans did land,
And she won 2 silvers, then came Rio....

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Boomers from here to anon,
What turned us all on?
Our blue jeans of love,
Marched for peaceful doves,
Sun baking for brown.
Skin blotches do cast frown,
Our denim survives, 
Silvers staying alive,
So far, so good, I'm stating,
Freckles still proliferating,
Feeling young never grows old, 
We're boomers, do be told!...

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A wakeful man riding
Constant terminal dusk
Coveting dawns glow

Conqueror of rapacity
Constructing his empire
Of gold and silvers avarice 

Feigning his thrill of life
So spuriously rehearsed
In his eyes they are trivialities

Only now he sees the truth
In the darkness of his sepulcher
Surrounded by his useless wealth...

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Butterfly counter, paid by the hours
Walks miles, studying beautiful flowers.

Captures blues, silvers, yellows, monarchs too
They arrive in splendiferous colors and hues

Okay I don’t get paid in money, she says.
Something fun to do, for my Aunt Inez.

Inez has been gone for fifteen years now, you see.
Photographing butterflies is her gift to me....

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Hippies, dogs, cats, pirates, and flowers
My paintings are oozing with magical powers.
Women with hair of every color, pattern and hue,
Painted in pinks, silvers, purples and electric blue.

Steadily working on canvases during the day,
Dragons, unicorns, turtles stop by to say “hey”.
I usually have four to five going with castles sublime.
A Gemini spirit, I cannot work on one at a time....

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like a lover’s sigh
she tiptoes forth    looking back
those warm memories
birds    still singing    cross over
and sad sunshine stills the wind

now September sings
a sympathetic tune silvers
promises late gold –
the change will be gradual
promises sleep    painless sleep

mysterious calm
Llke a magic caesura
bated by surprise
in mind it’s ever the same
such gentle looking forward...

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I am a cartoonist, a painter, a clandescent poet.
I paint in neons – pinks, greens, yellows and blues.
The background is sometimes done up in purple before I know it.
I start with the skin color, making it a variety of hues.
Beige might work for others, but I use coppers, silvers and pink.
I throw in some oranges every time I do think.
For I am an artist, a painter, a poet.
Colors are everything, don’t you know it?...

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Becoming is like taking up
A crystal goblet full of purple ink
The stuff that begets hatters and rabbits
And curious oysters with bad endings in their cards
And drinking it down
Taking in all those not-yet thoughts
Those embryonic fantasies
Those epiphanies still wrapped in their silvers
And making them yours
Just yours
Just yours in their brilliance
In their ever-changing solace
And using them to change your stars....

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My closet is filled with beautiful clothes
Blouses in pinks, oranges, blues
Dresses in turquoises, golds, silvers
Fluffy fake fur coats in black, white and gray
I adore colors, patterns and textures.
Loving paisleys, zigzags, multi-patterned clothes
Not as fond of polka dots or stripes
Too symmetrical
I prefer clothing that looks like it was designed by
Klee, Miro and Dali
I am an artist; it is in my nature to be lop-sided....

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The last resort of the department store
Purchasing my bones in the flesh
Native thorns contempting robes
Reciprocities without enough city
Familiar silvers behind glass windows
Tracking of least haunted strain
Fellow of coal
Liberty absconds the brazen doors of eden
Bludgeoning heart muscle of castings lapse
Strung letting of hummingbirds pain
Calling froth of tomorrow
Beastly hauling of coppered stones
Blanks of tomb
Witched at birth
...

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Glitters
So we wander,
with the enormity of the silent universe.
So we surrender,
to the disrupting lines of nature's verse.
Away we fly with the converging horizons,
aback it takes us like the flowing turf.
As the demons, we fly,
over the mighty heap of silvers.
we always have a chance,
but we barely can reach the silent rivers.
The flight to the hill,
brings a surge of strange Mesmer,
and indulged are we,
to the glimpses of glitters....

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