Cyberspace, my blue astral projector
I'm not seeking new friends to entertain
I dwell in a big celestial sector
Cradled in great cool mists and northern rain.
Yet, from funny dark galaxies above
Comes bright celestial advice, kind and wise.
The Oak Grove beckons those whom nature loves
To stretch their wings where faery nature flies.
A faery soars through Cosmos, fierce and free.
No longer bound by bedridden routine.
I journeyed back through past pink memories
And glimpsed my magic future, wide and keen.
A verdant woman, celestial and high,
Candle visions that light the morning sky.
Passionate Camille Claudel
sculptured in bronze so well
With 'le dieu envolei'*she led the way
an ' imploring woman 'a theme still of today
Camille in a red kerchief"
ever so 'wifley'supportive'
Monet at his impressionist best
with this intimate 'domestique 'jest
Carefully watching every word I said;
For the moment I did not want to tread
any longer on this sharp vampire’s toes;
Something new I was going to compose;
‘Fable’ I asked ‘when are we to begin? ‘
I was going to become the linchpin
of the entire city of New Orleans;
I vowed by any necessary means;
‘We will fly at the last light of Sunday.’
she replied ‘Please arrive without delay.
With me you’ll grow. I have no doubt of it,
and will quickly build a finespun skill set.’
Sink into my skin? Well she had just tried;
That desire would remain unsatisfied.
I live in a world,
Where I satisfy you always,
Where desires of the heart
Are more than attainable
And the attainable itself is nimble
In Reality's gaze,
So I prefer the stare
Off in the distance of Fantasy
For in both do I find truths
And in both do I find tears,
The medium between longing
And receiving
I live in many worlds,
Yet the world I try to access
Is neither Fantasy nor Reality—
It is a place not yet envisioned
2.24.20
My Gift,
“The pure present is an ungraspable advance of the past devouring the future. In truth, all sensation is already memory.” - Henri Bergson
I feel, I felt
tingles in the far recesses of my soul
swirling in an ever circular motion
surrounding the pounding of my heart
resounding inside and out
my echo chamber
I find comfort in that peace
your stillness, the silence
all I am hearing is love
bleeding slowly into me
transmitting signals
rushing alongside clear blue waters
swimming up into my substanance
my existence
filtering in thru the green
of those auspicious duck pond eyes
your gift warms me
each syllable entrusted
as life lies naked at our door
unabridged stories taking hold
we walk away from the past
and yesterday's wars
IF ever I had a country : XXIII-XXIV
XXIII
IF ever I had a country
And if ever I were but the Home Secretary
I wouldn't sit on my baked beans doing my level-best to avoid responsibility
While waiting to pat myself on the back on Bastille Day down the Champs Elysée
I'd keep both public and pubic forces from running rampage on every refugee
But set about tidying the House with bleach to rid oath-taking secret skullduggery
That is, if ever I were but the Home Secretary
And even if I never ever had no country
XXIV
IF ever I had a country
And if ever I were but the Interior Secretary
I'd neither arrogate nor take for granted Hobbes's Leviathan-authorised cruelty
I'd seek and demolish local townships' self-appointed chief mafiosi
Who undermine hotel-maids with virile World Bank authority
Who add to the You-Too Hall of Fame Hollywood-producer community
That is, if ever I were but the Interior Sec in Gay Paree
And even if I never ever had no country
© T. Wignesan - Paris, July 10, 2018
I know you’ve been hit
The Messenger of Misery
He has done Evil
He’s done it against You
He’s done You much good.
He will bend you Hard
As if to break you, but No.
He will hit on you
Like Long-time Enemies
But the truth and fact remains
Neither God nor Nature is against You.
It is just the path of greatness.
To desire the beauty of success
Is to embrace the process thereto.
@JULY 2017/©M.H.O.G Unveiled
To billionaires t-rump's a tool
He covers their butts as if stool
Fake news discussions
By the rich and the Russians
Convinced voters this t-ass should rule
Those eyes that flicker in yonder light
flourish like snakes during summer nights
So seasoned and cultured unshaken they float
Though none can tell what’s pristine or trite
‘tis often I ponder what spare
pages you sought to share
A question mark be thy beauty
such a being surmised as rare
her smile benevolent as summer’s breeze
Upon my knees nimble I appease
And in that time I recollect
These memories that are elder keys
*************Note: Life Is A Trampoline***********
It is a fool who
Puts' ideas' into His
Own Head
-And-
Then bounce around
On an Trampoline
GF
Morrow: Though life has it's own
Ups' and Downs'
Be prepared......
For that bounce'
Before you hit the ground.....
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.