Silvery Chants
I am nothing but a boat its wing has silvery chants I can't tell you their secrets. When the silvery voice showed me its soul, all the deep whispers dissolved in my dream as a sleepy rose. I can tell you another mystic glance; there are slivery seas, and you can feel their fingers touch your depth with calm astonishment. No, I am not a sorcerer, but I am just a passenger can’t sit on our bough when my talk about the bright horses. There were cities of a sliver its whispers touch our window with smiles, penetrate our depth without delay and invade our souls with a deep salute. I was just a young child, and you can't expect to find in my pocket any fairies but our land is the daughter of a silvery voice. Yes, I was just a smooth southern child sits on our bough with slivery chants in his small pocket."
Love is like a flame in the heart's hearth
A warmth that spread, that comforting mirth
Love is that finger that trace an invisible line
That touch that lingers,so sweet,so Divine
Love is like the dawn breaking through
With golden promises and sky anew
That embem of grace, Garden in bloom
Symphony of colors, banishing all gloom
Love is a lighthouse in stormy sea
That Bright small light in the darkest sea
Like a moonbeam on a tranquil night
Casting slivery dreams ,so soft and light
Love is like a newborn gaze,so pure and bright
Like a butterfly in bucolic sight
Love is that whisper so bold yet untold
That spark, that mark and treasure to behold
a slick mime had only one dime
bought a slivery pot of slime
world’s no oyster
went to a cloister
sacred graffiti thickens the crime
23rd November 2020
Traducent are we who speak with slivery truth
With silver fork tongues we malign the disclosure
Slanderous are we who act suasive and choose
The obduse of wealth, power, and fortune
In the overture of madness we play in absolute confusion
Vexing, beckoning with their temptations
Plausive are we to the eyes of the wicked
With frangible gists and terrible mindedlessness
Not a poor soul saved, not another guilt grasp
Ignominiously felt, and despodence lasts
All overawed with the overwhelming avarice
And lo the kings of the foul and the underlings
Find yourself
Come face to face
Against a wall or
In a warm embrace.
See yourself
A slivery shadow
Eager to pounce
ready to know.
Touch yourself
A string of words
Snapped by emotion
Fired by verbs.
Smell yourself
A certain stench
Washed in blood
Do not flinch.
Taste yourself
A salty rage
Bitter as bile
Or sweetened by age.
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