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Best Poems Written by Leanne Lovejoy-Burton

Below are the all-time best Leanne Lovejoy-Burton poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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COMMUNION


"COMMUNION"



You speak to me in tongues
I  hear you with my heart
I feel you with my mind
Like a Spring bloom, I am slowly unfurling
Like a ripe plum, you taste me in my rhymes
You touch me black ink injected drug potent
Red Poppies between lines
I sense you in your dreams
They are swelling next to mine
Like a drunk, I swallow all your delicious words
You turn into endless Golden Chalices of Altar Wine

I see you through your mirrors
COMMUNION - You see me, walking now through mine.

(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 EASTER)




communion
noun
1.
the sharing or exchanging of intimate thoughts and feelings, especially on a mental or spiritual level.
"in this churchyard communion with the dead was almost palpable"
2.
the service of Christian worship at which bread and wine are consecrated and shared.
"Communion was celebrated once a month"
synonyms:	Eucharist, Holy Communion, Lord's Supper, Mass
"he believed in Christ's presence among the faithful at Communion"


3. The Bible
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bible

4. KJV
https://www.bible.com/bible

5. Scientific Explanation of How the Image was formed on the Shroud of Turin.
Part 1
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pdwnTpWXi3M
Part 2A
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=efEDb2jHyMY
PART 2B
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=0mK4ImwiJ9g

6. The Spirit, The Blood and The Water
6a
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=LTF6vDtvH0g

6b
https://wyattmuseum.com/ron-wyatt-chromosome-count-in-blood-sample/2016-11862

6c
https://jonah135588.wordpress.com/2008/10/22/deathbed-confession-of-ron-wyatt-discoverer-of-the-ark-of-the-covenant/

6d
https://youtu.be/B8TRoQk6WUE

6e "The Truth Adds Up"
https://youtu.be/9oJj6S5wByM

"The Golden Way", David Sylvian (Lyrics)
https://www.flashlyrics.com/lyrics/david-sylvian/the-golden-way-63
Song:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w-TGWewQcaQ

Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2018



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Captive Deep Blue Je Reviens





"Captive Deep Blue Je Reviens"
I walk beside you in your dreams, you are always in me warm and pounding, twin heart, burning bright flame, beautiful addiction captive deep blue je reviens Sun igniting, I stand with you, invisible we are haunting the deserted French vanilla streets, where time stands still I am always holding your hand, fingers entwined the warm breeze caresses skin, lingers like lips your after scent hidden on me. Undressed my deserted garden waits wild, abandoned, growing lurid pinks recklessly stranded impatiens they are waiting lying open in beckoning lush wet valleys of pungent violets, wild primroses, erin lillies and oriental orchids serpents climbing thick green wooded trees wrapping legs, bare feet “K.I.S.S.”, you whisper to me. I never leave you throughout my days you are always in me warm and pounding, obsessed my dangerous possessed ruinous twin heart, burning bright flame, beautiful addiction captive deep blue je reviens and the nights I sleep breathing in and out in crushed velvet dark your name speaks mine whispering sweet longings sliding hips our hands drawing new cartography. Awake I am searching for you while scrying mirrors it’s not my eyes I see Yours are the windows of another soul staring back at me Somewhere on the other side worlds away from me Confederate Ghost bewitching familiar haunting passionate down to a sunless sea my spent obsidian clandestine Coleridge My absent Valentine Split in two, living in another time. I walk beside you in your dreams, you are always in me warm and pounding, twin heart, burning bright flame, beautiful addiction captive deep blue je reviens My absent Valentine. (Lovejoy-Burton/Jan 2018)
“And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced: Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst  Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail: And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river.  “
"And It All Began With You" / Gary Numan https://youtu.be/fM265RXVxLw

Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2018

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Die Another Day

“Die Another Day”


“Your mission, should you so deem it,
Is to infiltrate ALL Fluff Clusters in K.A.O.S. Headquarters
And bloody well steam it!”


“The Place is a hazardous mess of a trap
Over run with Double Agents, ulterior motives
Amorous Nuns-on-the-Run drooling ardent dreams 
of swimming naked
in buckets of Blood Red Roses
69’ers come 96’ers with rapturous missives
Requiring decoding – 
And their artillery compares to none other in this world -
Containing the most dangerous pensive locked-up emotions!
Written superfluously with more than likely Nootropics, 
Toadstools (sic) Toad stools and 
viperous inebriated poisonous frog posing lotions.

The place itself dear girl, is infested with Love Potions and
Lust boats rocking furiously on Saga-full 
swelling erotic and  Sensual oceans. 
The place needs fumigating, too many damn birds!
They breed lice! Not to mention the droppings 
Full of ‘sweet nectar’ brings in all the 
Rats and the mice!
You are required to go in there dear Agent Petrova
And blow it apart with your Vixenish explosives and coat it
In mind numbing black and white Zebra striped run away train words 
in subterranean doses.”

M barked in clipped soft tone staccato and contradictory whisper
Eyes like a Hawk watching the shadows while tickling her cactussing 
hormonal whiskers -
A viperish Tongue that could lash and deliver one such hell burning blisters
To recalcitrant Frenchmen Stinking Frogs and 
Germans, dismissive.

“This should be fun!” S.A.P. processed the new Dossier nonchalantly,
Clicking her sharp stillettos down endless corridor mazes with glee.
Dress-ups, disguises, nom de plumes - this thought She, was 
definitely SHE.

Elegant, eloquent, Walk-the-Talk, machine gun ‘em down 
Special Agent Petrova 
Very Special S.A.P.
Is in town!
Not loose, never for free
Spray the room with her intoxicating perfume and 
her Che Guevara 
Che SHE

Pursuing (sic) perusing
the mission with loaded quill in her hand 
She'd stroke and smoke out the big guns
Morphing her guises, transfiguring 
Speaking in tongues
Pinning their tales all over her 
“favourite” walls
All agents on the run, what a Fluff Cluster Spree...
Captivating Foreign and Homeland
Corral only the best
Capture them all 
Arrest and divest

Subterfuge forays were her forte
This she thought was apt
Analysing the Attache
She had it down pat.

To hell with all Pernod Swilling French Men 
Run amok and astray…
To hell with the Toads in their Dark Green sordid sortie

She was on with the mission 
She’d 
DIE ANOTHER D. DAY

(Lovejoy-Burton/2018)

1. :)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UWr_1uLjqic

2.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3S65u5qK6dc

3.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NDhhdG-nslg

4. 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=isAUOa50wdA

"There are some agents who don't end their sentences with a proposition"/Jan Morrow.

Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2018

Details | Leanne Lovejoy-Burton Poem

Thy Beautiful Heart: The Blue Faerie's Baby

"Thy Beautiful Heart : The Blue Faerie’s Baby"
'Tis brave the heart of a lionhearted cub When Butterflies aren’t pretty Aren’t all what they seem Monsters that do steal teeth from the Blue Faerie's Baby A glass jar full of plundered precious Pearls of White Ivory, not sweet honey bees The cub must remember the magic strength of LOVE Stand firm clasping it to thy beautiful heart thy beautiful heart that was borne from pure love all of her beautiful dreams to believe to dream real “Walk with courage”, she heard her say Soft footsteps always follow They’ve never walked away Guarding her from wolves and monks gone astray Both are walking in Light beams the two from the Fey All will come good on the morrow For the Blue Faerie’s Baby There is to be no more Black Sorrow Love, Time is tumbling Love with all of thy beautiful heart Time, 'tis no more to be borrowed. Love's kiss from a mother's heart breaks the Papillon Spell. (Lovejoy-Burton, August 2018) for my daughter, Georgia - Close your eyes when you listen to the music...it adds more power to the spell.
Symphony for Eight/Philip Glass (Original music video removed from Youtube, replaced with current, "Conjunto", Symphony for Eight Cellos, PeterRudolfi/Youtube) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cKEq56mDLg4

Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2018

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My Daughter My Nation


"My Daughter My Nation"



The climate of Georgia
is diverse, 
considering the nation’s
small size.

She walks with her head 
held high, 
ultra dignified
My daughter,
whom I love “Most".

I am her Black Sea,
her West Coast.
Familiar, yet -
uncharted territory
a foreign country drowned,
a mysterious
unconquered frontier.

Always close, 
my tides touch her shore,
then recede.
She dips her toes, 
considers which boat
to launch off in,
which adventure to seize.

Waves of a Mother -
calm then stormy seas,
low tides, high tides, 
cool deep waters,
then LOVE's blistering
burning breeze.

In water’s introspection
A natural evolution 
from station to station,
perfect reflection, an observation -
“TAKE LIFE!”, Ocean calls
to her Nation, 
without hesitation.

Courage of Child-no-longer.
Independent, clever 
Woman now, she’s “BECOMING” -
Stronger and stronger.
Familiar, yet -

Uncharted territory
a foreign country 
a mysterious, 
unconquered frontier,
that's My Daughter, 
My Nation.
Georgia.

No maps required, 
straight to the HEART -
Simple, pure magic vibration,
this my celebration,
My Daughter 
Queen of your own
Evolving, Stronghold Nation,
GEORGIA.



(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 Jan)

1.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v6wc41N-GYY

2.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QSJfOLLE0Fk

Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2018



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Next Chapter


“Next Chapter”


 
There will always be a next chapter
Written or not, this is of no matter
What matters is the colour forming in your world

Black is not a colour, it dominates, shades and swallows other colours up,
It exists to be blended with White, a vacant aberration one can easily fill in and colour over
What one is looking for is the colour in the spectrum, not yet found
To be newly created with all available emotions to hand and heart and mind

There will always be a next chapter
Written or not, this is of no matter
What matters is the colour forming in your world

Beginning
End? there never is an end

What matters is the colour forming in your world



(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 March)


Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2018

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Black Swan Theory

(Best read with this poem's theme music playing)



"BLACK SWAN THEORY"
Free Agent Black Swan Theory White Pearl rolling in Some kind of Black Pearl World Black Swan Theory Decoded, Fragile Love Songs Broken in Some Kind of Black Pearl World Red Shoes Dance Home with the Witch-Way Girl Decoded, Fragile Love Songs Broken in Free Agents' Escape Dossier, you’re handed free tokens Red Shoes Dance Home with the Witch-Way Girl Vapid Vanilla Kisses, Black Marzipan my Villain's Secret Kisses Unfurl Free Agents' Escape Dossier, you’re handed free tokens Love’s Bullets melting Hot Ice Heart Vapid Vanilla Kisses, Black Marzipan my Villain's Secret Kisses Unfurl Diamond Hieroglyphics My Windows on Your World
(Lovejoy-Burton/April 2018)
"rara avis in terris nigroque simillima cygno"
"Subway"/Peter Murphy https://youtu.be/iiUOUNubUW4 https://genius.com/Peter-murphy-subway-epilogue-lyrics

Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2018

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The Swoon Hypothesis - Part 1

“The Swoon Hypothesis”  - Part 1

“Come, take my hand”, you say, “I will show you a story”.
So, I place my hand in yours, we walk barefoot cool, in scorching sand.
Strange I think, no footprints, no burns, no shadows, as I hold your hand.
The desert winds whisper your words to me, your eyes clear and blue as the cloudless sky.

So, I place my hand in yours, we walk barefoot cool, in scorching sand.
The silence in your eyes speak secrets, a chapter hidden away, not for all to know.
The desert winds whisper your words to me, your eyes blue and clear as the cloudless sky.
Not one word from your lips, but I listen to you, as we wander through the Silent Years.

The silence in your eyes speak secrets, a chapter hidden away, not for all to know.
As a boy you learnt your family trade, then you dwelt in Roman Judean caves learning in the Library of the Essenes rebellious, brave.
Not one word from your lips, but I listen to you, as we wander through the Silent Years.
Twelve your favored number, the missing final scroll you hand to me, “Take note of the story I deliver, you will soon see”.

As a boy you learnt your family trade, then you dwelt in Roman Judean caves learning in the Library of the Essenes rebellious, brave.
A strong and loyal ally you made in your friend, the rich Merchant from Arimathea.
Twelve your favored number, the missing final scroll you hand to me, “Take note of the story I deliver, you will soon see”.
You take my hand, we walk out of the desert down to the Sea, we are on a Ship, you softly sing to my mind, Blake’s “Jerusalem” as we journey far out to another land beyond our ocean, you laugh, “It’s an adventure, a great mystery”, you smile like an old friend, at me.

A strong and loyal ally you made in your friend, the rich Merchant from Arimathea.
He stands next to you and I on the deck, soon we alight onto dry land, the Scroll becomes parchment, ancient Pali you hold in your hands – there in it’s script, your name recorded in the Vedas’ Bhavishya Purana.
You take my hand, we are far from the sea, now we are in Ladakh, in the majestic Mountains of Kashmir much higher and closer to the One sometimes felt not yet met.
You are far from the One I know, smiling and chanting with holy monks, your loyal brothers in Tibet.

(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 April)


"The Sacrificial Man should be closely tied to the sacrificial pillar." (Sathapathabrahmana 3.7.3.1)/Vedas

"The Sacrificial Man should return to life after the sacrifice." (Brhadaranykopanisad 3.9.28.4,5)/Vedas


1. Om
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8sYK7lm3UKg


Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2018

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Ante Bellum

“ANTE BELLUM”
BEIGE
Best served where it can’t be seen On Stirling Silver platters With redruM narcotics Delivered by sharp Blood-Red Well-mannered talons Strutting in sleek wet rolling tight-skirted Long French Silk Stockinged legs all the way down to Lethal Six Inch stilettos - Manolo Blahniks - Shiny Pearls of cream glisten Around the Chanel Milk White necks dripping Manuka-honeyed smiles Ripping eyes out of the bent-back sockets of the Board-men’s heads, A contingent of seasoned office sex and politics Bullet-busted Fembots that bend just-so and flex. "Just a" Nubile serving wench delivers Beige redruM Served best
- “Chilled” -
In Wedgewood Crystal Goblets to the Old Boys with their over-sweeps, Orange tans, Viagra and their assorted kinda-Liquorice-All Sorts Rainbow coloured Bags of Candy popping Pretty Pink Heart Pills, Gluttonous, arrogant and unaware Sitting "stiffly" in their Pucci underwear and vintage Cardin and saintly Laurent knifeline-pressed suits that scream "J'ai tres tres debonnaire!" Moving pieces on the table, their version of Monopoly becomes Truth or Dare, Their countenance smoothly conveys, “I am your Over Lord, Beware”, as they swap business cards from their fat and overflowing wallets while sitting like Supreme Beings in their Lair, chortle vociferously unfazed, "the women are 'just' trollops", they compare, who has bigger guns and troops that pack the best Hell of a Chlorine Gas skin burning internal organs Whollop! As they play their little games, Pumping Masonic “G” fisted Greasy milk from their lubricated, soiled and fetid pockets, Swapping innocent lives For lethal chemicals, blood spray, tumbling heads and hellfire A cheap deal for Black Liquid Gold and Bolshy Atomic Rockets. There they sit, puffed up, superficial Poisonous and salivating consorting silent, sophisticated, bestial Around an ancient table (metaphorically speaking) they all are orderly, noxious, and sublimely fecal. Drunk on power, they are inebriated It shines and reflects in the faces Of these Narcissisitic dead-eyed Lupine Grinning Fork-tongued hissing False Phrophets who think that they are “Winning”. They are Slender Man each and every one - As they maim, murder and taste the blood Of all God’s children, Lambs to the slaughter. Yes they are Slender Man Well hidden in the beat-up They are the ones, The True Forgotten - They think that they are hidden. While from their view at 666 Across the Harbour That is really Styx, Ishtar wears her Crown of Seven Thorns The Shining Whore of Mystery Babylon Tres tres adored... The Fembots lean in seductively With just the right amount and slightest hint of cleavage. They serve their trays of BEIGE, While the Old Boys Grin at their sweet dewy melons And wish for Younger Days and hot sex with shame 'n fame street walking hungry-cum-centre-folding-Greenbacked-felons. Who can say, is this scene all too late to summon? Before the War is come? CODE WORD: Ante Bellum. BEIGE. Best served where it blends in, can’t be seen Po 210, an excellent year. (Lovejoy-Burton/April 2018)
New York? 17 'For in one hour such great riches came to nothing.' Every shipmaster, all who travel by ship, sailors, and as many as trade on the sea, stood at a distance 18 "And cried out when they saw the smoke of her burning, saying, 'What is like this great city?' 19 "They threw dust on their heads and cried out, weeping and wailing, and saying, 'Alas, alas, that great city, in which all who had ships on the sea became rich by her wealth! For in one hour she is made desolate.' Whore of Babylon? The Whore of Babylon is described as a harlot who sits on many waters in Revelation 17:1. The Hudson, Harlem, East, and Hackensack Rivers empty into New York Harbor, and many rivers in Connecticut also empty into Long Island Sound. The place where the East River meets Long Island Sound is called Hell Gate. On Long Island, there are suburbs of New York City called North Babylon, West Babylon, and Babylon. The Whore of Babylon was the Babylonian goddess of war and sexual lust known as Ishtar, whom other Semitic peoples of the ancient Middle East knew as Astarte, Ashtoreth, or Asherah, and who was called Aphrodite by the ancient Greeks and Venus by the Romans. The Statue of Liberty itself was modeled on the ancient Roman goddess of Libertas. 1. Owls/Bilderbergers https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fEbI5OUcD4M 2. David Rockefeller's Chilling 1991 Speech at a Bilderberg Meeting http://www.collective-evolution.com/2017/03/21/the-new-world-order-david-rockefellers-chilling-1991-speech-at-a-bilderberg-meeting/ 3. Is the Statue of Liberty the Whore of Babylon http://www.ardentseeker.com/Whore%20of%20Babylon/statue-of-liberty-as-ishtar.html 4. Ishtar https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inanna 5. Spys, Intelligence https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poisoning_of_Alexander_Litvinenko 6. The Manhattan Project https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manhattan_Project 7. The Plutonium Files https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Plutonium_Files 8. Putin predicts global 'chaos' if West hits Syria again (MSN.COM.AU, 16/4/18) https://www.msn.com/en-au/news/world/putin-predicts-global-chaos-if-west-hits-syria-again/ar-AAvUo9z?li=AAgfYrC&ocid=mailsignout 9. Trump and The Storm http://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-43334326 https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/the-fix/wp/2018/04/15/why-the-lewd-trump-russian-prostitute-allegation-is-a-distraction-and-we-should-all-be-careful/?noredirect=on&utm_term=.d3307abe648c 10. The 666 Fifth Avenue Address https://nypost.com/2017/04/18/the-scandalous-history-behind-kushners-ritzy-midtown-building/ http://www.slate.com/blogs/moneybox/2017/04/07/kushner_s_666_5th _avenue_is_a_perfect_metaphor_of_the_trump_administration.html 11.Chemical Attack,Syria http://www.bbc.com/news/world-middle-east-43697084

Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2018

Details | Leanne Lovejoy-Burton Poem

Winter's Journey - Part 1b


“Winter’s Journey”  (Part 1b)


Your mother's Universe resounds inside you 
where you are every single sparkling star 
in every planet’s sky, the Galaxies are vast you see, 
in you she’ll never die.

You are all the pearls in all her deepest azure oceans, 
every minuscule grain of sand, 
all the coal shining precious diamonds in far away mysterious lands, 
and the perilous ocean ice-packs where she stood so strong for you.
You are all the treasures in her treasure box, spilling out from
bulging lid,
lying quietly in your very own ocean for you to discover when you're 
not a kid.

You must remember Little Bear, you're never really 
alone nor apart. 
Mother Bear is crying out her messages loud and very clear
all over strange clouds and distant airwaves to you,
that she is always very very near. 
It rings mercilessly out it’s message 
like a toll bell ringing in a raging ocean storm, 
remember this message always, 
nothing could ring more clearer -
What you think is “easier” 
is never, 
usually the norm.

Believe what she has taught you, the Truth will always steer you Home
when your inner map is foggy, 
or your caught pinned somewhere perilous 
beneath this expansive Dome.
Listen and remember, keep faith in what she imparts,
this is your shield to deflect all that will burn only for a little while, 
it’s just a slight nip, a sharp sting,
but will never be the Fire that will ever destroy your heart.
You take your lessons from her, an elixir full of love,
you fall over, you get straight back up again, put on your special gloves; 
you’re made of her strong stuff you see and it is made from unbreakable
LOVE.

The TRUTH is Baby bear,
a Sea Leopard never changes it’s spots.
This is what you must remember, never forget,
not one jot.

I know it is hard to fathom, let it sink where it belongs.
The Strongest Kindest Polar Bear would forgive, learn and reflect,
but the Strongest Kindest Polar Bear, will impart to you now,
one must never ever forget.

Little Bear, you must get back in the Ocean 
swim through all that flotsam too,
follow the other Polar Bears, your like-minded stalwart brethren 
to pristine crystal water views.
Have no fear
you will make it through all that wash,
they are the ones you want swimming with you,
not the other shallow dross, 
the ones stuck in a Zoo, 
the ones caught in steel cages
standing in their own poo.
Follow the Sea Birds, the Albatross too, 
for they are good luck to bring a 
Mother HOME to you.


(Lovejoy-Burton/Dec 2017)

Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2017

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