Luminous jewel,
sphere illustrious
an imminent charm,
bright glow of love enamored
morning or evening star,
nebula’s composition redefined
named of the goddess who
by she enveloped our thoughts,
quotes, desires and hopes
ambiance eternal inferior
no moons for comfort,
only soft wispy, sulfuric clouds
enshroud and protect
in her celestial dance hall
ebon silhouettes abound,
volcanic pillar’s interior
Venusian mistress
Venera, radiant planet,
orbits and swirls about
Influencer, wife, sister, mother,
always a lover all in one
gracious and graceful
epiphanl presence,
astro star, Keats "Bright Star"
forbidding essence,
she plays in another’s
intrinsic magnetic field
for she has not one of her own,
grant her repose
from the hot lava lamps
of her orb’s abode
Cleopatra,
I investigate your eyes
through Nile mist that weaves,
jade butterflies that never fly
sable tresses hanging over leopards
bole skin on the border of Venusian dreamcatchers
Gilded diadems dance as burned suns
radiate from golden flakes of your crown
lightning demarcating the border between genius
— and ambition
wars are fought easier than your heart is won;
Cupid grieves your connections
Great men fear being made lesser by You
She of the God-like Mind
made Immortal for her Wise Counsel
I’m no prisoner of Fear nor Envy
nor Love
only Fate & Chance
Passionate war’s trompe-l’œil
The itch to love
and satiate pride
swallowed too long stifles
breath
without emancipation
A tragic capitulation to self
Pride, perhaps acerbic,
leaves morsels to ruminate
and loves to regurgitate
coy ceramic dalliances
and Venusian masquerades
Masked in smiles
And toxic
This love,
These loose granite memories
Ductile innocents
And hasty lulls
These shining sunsets
And supernovas
Must rest.
A Venusian and Martian met one day
But a language barrier stood in their way.
They observed the stars
Between Venus and Mars
Still, they had very little to say.
Both are unique and complex in make
Desiring a love that would make Earth shake.
Though broken at heart
They must stay apart.
There are plenty more options to take.
If only their warring families knew
Of the chemistry existing between these two!
They might try to seek peace
Cultural conflicts may cease...
The Marnusians would be a form new.
Unfortunately life doesn't work that way
Whatever fairytales and fantasies say.
Each a star-crossed lover
Secret. Undercover.
Their affection doomed til their dying day.
ship docking
on Saturn IV -
Venusian cargo
given a double whammy
they wanted to double down
on double talk
in the
torrid gust
the summer solstice
its sundry insectile eyes
seething with sultry scorn
in this weather channeled
source of telegenic storms
seasonal shifts are
lost in translation
poisoned neural flowers
the root of
rotting neurosis
the Earth becomes
Venusian
profoundly tragic
hypersonic horses
fly out of the digital barn
they sail over the
northern hemisphere
firing blinding arrows
into the dead brains
The Tropic of Cancer
and Capricorn
relax in the tropics
the Sun lords it
over the equator
precession calmly proceeds
(23.44° is the Magic Number)
all is well
in the best of all
possible
flatlands
What a way to appear on status
After such a huge hiatus
Pulchritudinous grace thine
Has inspired poetics mine
Tall beautiful belle flaunting
The pose simply enchanting
The smile emitting the aura
Of my favourite Lord Arora
Ethnicity being your logo
Proud I’m as thy amigo
How dark hair run down
From the cliff of your crown
It resembles the cascade cool
Making me a poet powerful..!
A wide face and broad forehead
The grace that never does fade
Eternal quotient of charm such
Making my poems marvellous much
Infinite is your superfect style
Simply classic being thy smile
With a heart lavish and candid
To verse nonstop thou I need
Magnificent and magical posture
Munificent and magnetic gesture
With tender looks of a Venusian
Martial mavericks of a Martian
How delighting to see thy pic
That makes me a poet prolific..!!
Venusian being the damsel here
Gives me amiable vibes clear
Ever in need of the words anew
To extoll the diva in my view
For changing is her super mien
In every week valorous I mean
Attire is made of Austrian glass
She is the belle and full of class
When moves spreads the scent
As if she is from heavens sent
Made by God in utmost leisure
And His divine perfect pleasure
Are you an angel from heaven?
An enamouring enchantress even..!!
What a motherly mien thou possess..
Like a Divine Lord on earth I assess
To expel the darkness of His offspring
The Lord has an incarnation full swing
Thus you invoke a feeling supreme
And I become emotional extreme
In next birth I’ll be born to you sure
For you resemble my mom pure
Ever in need of thy glance grand
For eternal energy it does grant
The real Goddess with charm cool
The demeanour being pretty full
Perfectly carved by Venusian Lord
You’re a beauty; I am your bard..!!
What a graceful venusian divine belle..!
Resembling Lotus Goddess in tale
Floral festival and her fabulous fervour
Dancing with zeal and vigour
Shows her being vibrant full
Radiant countenance just cheerful
When stands amidst the bevy
She steals my attention heavy
All this rhyming fool needs much
Her benedictions in tons such..!!
Innoculate against the forces
of the dark spectrum and it's Siren tune.
It's sickly pale green and gold hues. Monochromatic scale of hallucinogenic hopelessness.
Uses your Pride's Holden Magnet in it's vacuum.
A fog in the distance closes in,
like a Harpy in Venusian Projection,
streaming obscenity,
zooming in mirror of it's dirty vanity.
Principalities stalk the bog of your ruin.
Embalming your soul into insanity, Heretic Cocoon.
The Dance of Death's pompous Melody.
Dreamweaving sutured organ,
piping your fog into Mummy Womb.
Nightwalkers overlook the ritual.
Demon Satellites orbiting your perdition.
They argue this violation is consensual.
Taking not in_- the adorn of light's prism.
But staunching irreverence, a shadowed-stench where the light bends, grotesquely mishapened.
The Lord of the Flies-traps closes as if nothing happened.
Rainbows end.
I met two aliens once. They were poets
like me, I mean, a poet and a poetess.
Their language sounded like music, though its
gender distinction wasn't hard to notice.
She’s from the Venus, he is from the Mars.
They speak different languages like us.
***
Below is a translation of the poem "Aliens" into Venusian (a vowel is replaced by the next vowel in alphabetical order):
O mit twu eloins unci. Thia wiri puits
loki mi, O mien, e puit end e puitiss.
Thior lengyegi suyndid loki mysoc, thuygh ots
gindir dostonctoun wesn't herd tu nutoci.
Shi's frum thi Vinys, hi os frum thi Mers.
Thia spiek doffirint lengyegis loki ys.
Below is a translation of the poem "Aliens" into Martian, (a consonant is replaced by the next consonant in alphabetical order):
I nev vxo amiept opde. Vjey xese qoevt
mile ne, I neap, a qoev apf a qoevett.
Vjeis maphuahe toupfef mile nutid, vjouhj ivt
hepfes fitvipdviop xatp'v jasf vo povide.
Tje't gson vje Weput, je it gson vje Nast.
Vjey tqeal figgesepv maphuahet mile ut.
Eros has rattled my bones
waxing your spirit
through snakeskin
I travelled rotating moons
entering state of beloved
Sharing enticed journey
through eyelids closed
Venusian fossiles lived
between the space
of a heartbeat
Loins of Lotus opened
in waning silence
Perhaps, never
will we breathe
deeper than this
Born from duality
I, daughter of Jupiter
Wearing garlands
of red
Forever fleeting
from mankind`s foam
You and I
are globes apart
In holographic
union
We walk
Earth`s heartbeat
Writing
epic notes
Love speaks
a language
of All
through
kindred kisses
I become
a climax
of
you
Section Three Deviant
You Sir are strange.
I've never met anyone like you.
You pick up freshly fallen conkers and eat them.
Why is that odd?
You dip them in dog crap first.
I've seen you kiss a cat on the lips.
Normal?
Not when it's been dead three weeks.
Then there was the time you said you were from Mars.
But your passport lists you as Venusian.
Is it fake?
You'll all be getting a picture of my friend, by email forthwith.
I never sent it; he did.
By thought alone.
You should see the **** he sends me.
Photos of all types of crap.
Real turds.
I delete them and he imprints them to my mind.
Now I like and respect the guy.
He's nice and polite but a tad different.
I suspect he'd like my brother.
He was quirky.
Would he tolerate him eating his dinner with his feet?
No.
But he would like his awful Japanese singing which is his party piece,
while wearing an old Kamikaze crash helmet.
Just wait till you see what he does with a tattoo gun and a cactus.
It's ever so funny!
I wish everyone had a friend like mine.
A Section Three Deviant.
Totally screwed in the head,
like the rest of us.
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