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Anthony Esposito May 2021
Black cloud over you
Your a prisoner to you
Stuck in your mind
So many times
You’ve lost count

You’ve seen better days
In many ways
This is an ok day for you
Can’t seem to do anything
This has got the best of you

So let’s take that trip
To Bora Bora.
Let’s just runway from here.
We can go anywhere but here.

I Said the wrong thing
It wasn’t your fault I swear
It didn’t mean anything
Just a funny joke
That didn’t land where it was supposed to

Oh it may be harder then it looks.
Maybe the answers aren’t in those books
Medication doesn’t taste that good to you
I’m on your side but pull the trigger if it would make you feel good.

So let’s take that trip
To Bora Bora.
Let’s just runway from here.
We can go anywhere but here
Jim Davis Apr 2017
In the last
three decades,
after we became one,
I touched
amazingly beautiful things,
horribly ugly things,  
unbelievably wondrous things

I touched nature's majesty;
hued walls of the Grand Canyon,              
crusty bark of the
Redwoods and Sequoias,
live corals of the
Great Barrier Reef,
dreamlike sandstone of the Wave

I touched magical and strange;
platypus, koalas and
kangaroos Down Under,
underwater alkali flies and
lacustrine tufa at Mono Lake,
astral glowing worms
in the Kawiti caves

I touched holy places;
Christianity's oldest churches,
the Pope's home in the Vatican,
Hindu and Sikh temples and
Moslem mosques in India,
Anasazi's kivas of Chaco canyon,
Aboriginal rocks of Uluru and Kata Tjuta

I touched glimmers of civilization;
uncovered roads of Pompeii,
fighting arenas of Rome,
terra cotta armies of Xian,
sharp stone points of the Apache,
pottery shards from the Navajo,
petroglyphs by the Jornada Mogollon

I touched fantastical things;
winds blowing on the
steppes of Patagonia,,
playas and craters of Death Valley,  
high peaks of the Continental Divide,
blazing white sands of the  
Land of Enchantment

I touched icons of liberty
and freedom;
the defended Alamo,
a fissured Liberty Bell,
an embracing Statue of Liberty,
the harbor of Checkpoints
Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie

I touched glorious things
made by man;
the monstrous Hoover Dam,
an exquisite Eiffel tower,
a soaring St Louis Arch,
an Art deco Empire State Building,
the sublime Golden Gate Bridge

I touched sparks from history;
the running path of an
Olympic flame just off Bourbon,
the last steps of Mohandas Ghandi
at Birla House before Godse,
******'s Eagle's nest and the
grounds over Der Führerbunker

I touched walls of power;
enclosed rings of the Pentagon,
steep steps of the
Great Wall of China,
untried bastions of
Peter and Paul's fortress,
fitted boulders of Machu Picchu

I touched strong hands;
of those conquering
Rommel's and ******'s hordes,
of cold warriors of
Chosin Reservoir,  
of forgotten soldiers of Vietnam,
of terrorist killers of today

I touched memories of war;
the somber Vietnam memorial,
the glorious Iwo Jima statue,
the cold slabs at Arlington,
the buried tomb of USS Arizonians,
Volgograd's Mother Russia  

I touched ugly things;
shreds of light in
Port Arthur's prison,
horrible smelly dust
in the streets from 9/11,
ash impregnated dirt
in the pits at Auschwitz

I touched oppressed freedom;
open ****** plazas
of Tiananmen Square,
smooth pipe and concrete
of the Berlin Wall,  
tall red brick walls
of the Moscow Kremlin

I touched constrained freedom;
heavy ankle and
wrist slave chains
in the South,
little windows
in Berlin's Stasi prison,
haunted cells in Alcatraz  

I touched remnants of madness;
wire and ovens of Auschwitz,
stacked chimneys and
wooden bunks of Birkenau,        
Ravensbruck, and Dachau,
the tomb of Lenin,
toppled Stalins

I touched hands of survivors;
of Leningrad's siege,
of German POWs and
of Russian fighters
of Stalingrad's battle,
of Cancer's scourges  

I touched grand things;
deep waters of the Pacific and Atlantic,
blue hills of Appalachia,
towering peaks of the Rockies,
high falls of Yosemite Valley,
bursting geysers of Yellowstone,
crashing glaciers of Antarctica and Alaska    

I touched times of adventure;
abseiling and zipping in Costa Rica,
packing Pecos wilds and Padre isles,
flying nap of earth Hueys to Meridian,
breaking arms in JRTC's box,
fighting Abu Sayyaf, and Jemaah
Islami in Zamboanga City

I touched through you;
wet sand beaches of  Mexico and Jamaica,
mysterious energy of the monoliths of Stonehenge,
rarefied air in front of the
Louvre's Mona Lisa,
ancient wonders of Giza,
Egypt's tombs and pyramids

We shared soft touches;
drifting in Bora Bora's
surreal waters,
joining hands camel trekking the
Outback's dry sands,
strolling along Tasmania's
eucalyptus forest trails

basking in swinging hammocks
under Fiji's bright sun,
scrambling in
Las Vegas' glittering and
red rock canyons,
kissing under the
Taj Mahal's symphony of arches

We shared touching deep waters;
propelled in gondolas
through the city of canals,
Drifting atop Uru cat boats on Lake Titticaca,
Swooping in jet boats
up a wild river in Talkeetna

Racing in speed boats
around Sydney's great harbour,
skimming in pangas in Puerto Ayora,
paddling the Kennebec for
East's best petroglyphs,
cruising Salzbergwerk's underwater lake

We touched scrumptious things;
Beignets and chicory coffee at DuMonde's in the Big Easy,
Hot *** with sesame sauce
in the walled city of Xian,
Peking duck, dimsum, scorpions,
snake and starfish on Wangfujing Snack Street

We touched delicious things
Crawfish heads and tails at JuJu's shack
and ten years at Jeanette's,
Langoustine at Poinciana's, Fjöruborðinus and Galapagos,
Cream cheese and loch bagels
at Ess-a' s in the Big Apple

I touched your hand riding;
hang loose waves of Waikiki,
a big green bus in Denali's awesomeness,
clip clopping carriages of Vienna, Paris,
Prague, New Orleans, Krakow,
Quebec City, and Zakopane,
the acapella sugar train of St Kitts

We shared touching on paths;
the highway 1 of Big Sur,
the Road of the Great Ocean,
the bahn to Buda and Pest,
the path to the North of Maine,
the trail of the Hoh rainforest,
and time after time, the way home

Yet,
I could spend
the next three decades,
in simple bliss,
having need for
touching nothing,
other than you!

©  2016 Jim Davis
A poem I wrote last year for my wife!  Posted now since it matches the HP' theme for today - "Places"
james nordlund Nov 2018
Whilst installed in the Blackhouse,
RumputiN's and vlad the impaler's latest
craven political attack on the military,
Against Admiral McRaven, who headed up
the capture of Osama, is just more raving.
This is clear to everyone since they,

the bi-headed underworld crown of
the bipolar axi of global supposed power,
RumputiN, republican capitalist materialists,
vlad the impaler, totalitarian socialist
materialists, put our military on TX's SE
border with Mexico, even though the "caravan"
which was 40 days away, was projected
to be arriving at the SW part instead,

A political stunt to get republican politicians
between 1/2 and 1 % more votes in the Midterms,
While it worked for the criminal gaining of votes,
The military is doing next to nothing there,
And should be allowed home by Thanksgiving.
Meanwhile, Trumpler said, the "Admiral didn't
do so well, since it took so long to capture
Bin Laden", when it was king george and his ****,
cheney, who ordered Osama to be allowed to escape
from Bora, Bora to Pakistan for safe keeping in

Abbottabad, "5 miles S. of Pakistan's Westpoint".  
You see, Bushs and Bin Ladens had been in business
for decades, and in the M.E. business is thicker
than blood, Bush could no more **** Bin Laden than
he could his own flesh and blood.  It's well known
that he received wedding invitations to Osama's kids
weddings, etc., for years, so, Trumpler blaming
McRaven and O'bama, when they caught him in the 2nd year
of his Presidency, is just more precious examples of our
king kong sized terrible two's use of 1st conclusion,
superficial, linear thought stragedy to attack everybody,
in attempts to silence, cower most if not All, in vain.

These attacks by Trumpler are also misdirections, to take
the news cycles off: his party's extreme losses and evident
voter crime they did, like in GA, where Abrams "couldn't
concede in her Governor's race for that would mean it was
proper...", it wasn't because Gov. Elect Kemp determined that
"...it wasn't a free, fair election, ...democracy failed in GA".
Also, his illegally installing Whitaker, a criminal the FBI is
investigating, to acting Attorney General, to preside over the
Mueller investigation (cover-up for: it doesn't use the RICO act
and asked for him to answer a take home test months ago, he
hasn't even handed in yet, while "...We(e),...", got our last
take home tests in 1st grade).  As well as his wasting a 1/2 a
billion of your tax $ on further militarization of our S. border.
His false, lame attacks against democratic leaders are unending.

On the letter by 16 democrat politicians who signed onto "the
leadership fight against Pelosi (for the republicans), Ocasio-
Cortez, Elect, says, "what's the point of changing just to...,
we might get a more conservative leader, for signers aren't diverse,
14 are male, very few people of color, progressives aren't signing."
I agree, why would the non-repubs get rid of their strongest
political leader going into impeachment time and 2020?  The supposed
left said "Hillary wasn't perfect", and helped to install him, when,
if you didn't vote Hillary you voted for the bi-headed, RumputiN/vlad
the impaler, head of the global oligarchy and bi-polar global axi of
supposed power to dictate the extermination to extinction of humanity,
large mammals, for the corp structure's convolution's devolutionary
direction + 'la machine''s, sociological programming (machining) human
(into not) being, individually, which is the social challenge of our
day, as the convolution's dictating cult of personality is almost all
and the socialist's extemist lie that "there's no reality without
their agreement", is the political one.  Don't be undone, be one well.
Thanx for the great worx, I look forward....  "...We(e),..." are advancing the Evolution in it's struggle against the corporate structure's (la machine) convolution and it's devolutionary direction.  You, indivisible life and illimitable potential, and your worx go along way in that evolutionary direction, for, we can walk in nature's balance, giving back to Earth's abundance.  If you didn't vote Hillary you voted for the bi-headed, RumputiN/vlad the impaler, head of the global oligarchy to dictate the extermination to extinction of humanity, large mammals, for the corp structure's convolution's devolutionary direction + 'la machine''s, sociological programming (machining) human (into not) being, individually, which is the social challenge of our day, as the convolution's dictating cult of personality is almost all and the socialist's extemist lie that "there's no reality without their agreement", is the political one.  All life are necessary threads in life's fabric, we can't allow to be torn asunder, as we followed none, we leave no footprints that will echo on, in all ways, always.   reality
The song is gone; the dance
is secret with the dancers in the earth,
the ritual useless, and the tribal story
lost in an alien tale.

Only the grass stands up
to mark the dancing-ring; the apple-gums
posture and mime a past corroboree,
murmur a broken chant.

The hunter is gone; the spear
is splintered underground; the painted bodies
a dream the world breathed sleeping and forgot.
The nomad feet are still.

Only the rider's heart
halts at a sightless shadow, an unsaid word
that fastens in the blood of the ancient curse,
the fear as old as Cain.
judy smith Sep 2015
It’s been a summer of love for many pairs in the Aspen area who chose to tie the knot near home or with a destination wedding such as these six couples below.

Natasha Lucero and Mike Conklin of Carbondale pinpointed Puerto Aventuras, Mexico, for their May 2 wedding at Hacienda del Mar Resort. Surrounded by nearly 100 friends and family members, they celebrated in the sun with a beach wedding. Though they lead an active lifestyle filled with lots of CrossFit workouts and semi-strict diets, they decided upon a decadent wedding cake (opting for one made of donut holes in lieu of something more traditional). For their honeymoon, the happy couple stayed in Mexico at an all-inclusive resort just down the road from the wedding.

Kelly Ann McColm and Daniel Conal McCarthy of Aspen chose a mountain wedding for their June 6 event. The ceremony was on the wedding deck at the top of Aspen Mountain with a reception in the beautifully decorated Sundeck. Kelly Ann’s favorite part about the wedding was the weather. “All four seasons in an hour! We started up the gondola with rain, got to the top of Ajax with snow and as I came out to walk down the aisle, the clouds parted and the sun came out for a beautiful summer sunset. The McCarthys are beach-bound for their honeymoon with a trip to Bora Bora.

Lori Augustine and Bill Small of Aspen tied the knot on June 14 on Aspen Mountain. They and their guests enjoyed beautiful summer weather for the ceremony at 11,212 feet. They’ve just set off for a honeymoon through Europe, spending the month of September in Venice, Milan, Lake Como, Capri, Positano, Rome, Tuscany, Monaco and St. Tropez.


Molly Elizabeth Eckrich and Charles Barclay Dodge of Aspen exchanged vows amidst friends and family on June 26. The Snowmass Chapel performed the ceremony in the John Denver Sanctuary in Old Snowmass. The bride noted, “We were the first wedding out there and I hope more people will use it because it was the most perfect setting.” Their reception took place at Tempranillo in Basalt. And their long awaited honeymoon will be spent in St. Bart’s and Cuba in November.

Katie Kowalski and Mickey Krentz of Aspen were married on a beautiful summer afternoon at Aspen Center for Environmental Studies at Rock Bottom Ranch near Emma on Aug. 8. “We supported a farm to table dinner there last year and both knew instantly, that is where we wanted to get married,” the bride noted. “It represented out love of the outdoors and love for good, local food, in a relaxed and beautiful setting. The atmosphere the day of our wedding couldn’t have been more perfect with the roosters crowing, ducks waddling, pigs lounging, the warm glow of the sun.” Next spring, they’ll honeymoon in Italy and France.

Maggi Whitmer and Ryan Thompson of Aspen tied the knot on Aug. 15 at Elk Camp in Snowmass under clear blue skies. “We loved being one of the first weddings in this location,” explained the bride. “Ryan and I both grew up in the valley and are passionate about skiing so having it on the mountain with chairlifts in the backdrop was special.” Sparklers, a food truck and the gondola were all little details that made it especially unique. For their honeymoon, they’re heading to Croatia and Italy in October.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-perth

www.marieaustralia.com/vintage-formal-dresses
judy smith Nov 2016
Fashion designers love foraging through the antique markets of Clignancourt in Paris and Portobello Road and Alfie’s Antiques markets in London snuffling out vintage pieces for inspiration. The flurry of romantic Victoriana on the catwalks for autumn can clearly be blamed on this obsession.

There has been an undercurrent of reserved, covered-up fashion ever since Pierpaolo Piccioli and his former co-designer Maria Grazia Chiuri introduced a more demure aesthetic to Valentino five years ago. Longer skirts, prim higher necklines and covered arms have become the slow trend of recent seasons creating a hyper-feminine look.

Riccardo Tisci at Givenchy and Sarah Burton at Alexander McQueen have long been beguiled by the Gothic romanticism of Victorian fashion with their use of corsetry and dark dramatic lace and velvet for eveningwear.

In fact, London-based vintage fashion dealer Virginia Bates admits she doesn’t remember there ever being a time when Gothic Victoriana didn’t feature in at least one designer’s collection. “The fascination with the romantics, poets, artists and even horror [classics and films] give designers a great source of inspiration,” she says. “It’s an irresistible era.”

Certainly a lot of it has appeared on the catwalks this season at McQueen, Marc Jacobs, Burberry (shown only a month ago in the see-now, buy-now collection), Simone Rocha, Preen, Bora Aksu and Temperley London, as well as at smaller brands such as Alessandra Rich, Three Floor created by Yvonne Hoang and A.W.A.K.E.

There were dark distressed Linton tweeds, unravelling knits and black tulle in Simone Rocha’s autumn collection. Rocha was pregnant when she started designing it and was inspired by Victorian dress and motherhood, in particular the nightgowns and matrons.

“All the wrapping and swaddling of babies,” she says, before elaborating on how “the Victorian ideals of properness were made perverse with the conservative and covered-up pieces contrasted by the sheer and embroidered fabrics.”These gauzy vaporous fabrics succeeded in making her eerily romantic silhouette look rather contemporary and daring.

Subversion is key to making such a prim and proper period in fashion history modern and relevant for women today. Marc Jacobs, for instance mixed long Victorian coats, ballooning crinolines and crochet doily collars with sweatshirt tops and laser-cut leather for skirts and jackets together with some scary Goth horror make-up. Nothing is, or should be literal.

As Justin Thornton of Preen says “we love the Victorians, the laces and the white shirts, but it is the vintage pieces rather than the era that inspire us”. His partner Thea Bregazzi has collected aristocratic laces and ruffly vintage shirts from Portobello Road market for as long as he has known her and these frequently find their way into their collections, “but linings would be ripped, garments will have holes in them – it is a deconstructed look”.Virginia Bates once owned a famous vintage fashion emporium in Holland Park with a client list including the biggest names in fashion from John Galliano to Donna Karan and Naomi Campbell. Now she only works with private clients and designers and they, especially, she says were looking for genuine Victorian pieces when planning their autumn collections.

“A black fitted jacket with inserts of handmade lace [that is] embellished with crystal and jet beads, ***** and silk lined ... How exciting and inspiring is that? Silk and fine lawn shirts, soft and flowing with ruffles. Don’t we all want to wear one and live the dream?”

Thankfully a few designers do right now, and there were lots of heavenly creatures in fragile asymmetric lace dresses toughened up with leather corsetry at Alexander McQueen, and richly coloured swishy dresses at Bora Aksu. While Christopher Bailey cherry-picked the centuries in his Burberry collection, lighting upon frilled white cotton shirts, nipped in jackets and military capes from the Victorian era. Given that Victoria reigned for more than 60 years there is a lot of history for designers to plunder, so this will not be the last we will see it.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses
Tyler Sep 2018
I used to fear nothing,
But not in the way that I had no fears;
I used to fear the thought of nothingness,
Like the end of Lake Ladoga a cloudy winter evening,
Or sand fading into water; nothing but an empty horizon ahead at the end of a shore in Bora Bora,
I used to fear the thought of being so far from home that I am nowhere,
That where I set my foot, nothing is to follow,
Nothing ahead, nothing behind.
The feeling of being in the grey area between existing and being a part of the ceaseless haze an autumn morning,
The feeling of being, but not fully;
Feeling your breath as your lungs empty, and fill,
Feeling your heart beat as it pumps blood into your ventricles, and out,
But not being able to grasp your mind,
Not being able to grasp your feelings, your thoughts, your purpose,
As if lethargy has made its way into the core of your heart, and spread its translucent venom from the top of your head to the end of your toes,
Filling your bloodstream with an overdose of emptiness,
Emptiness in the way that it is everything, yet nothing at all.
But now, I long to sit at the end of Lake Ladoga,
I long to gaze into the infinite space between sea and sky,
I long to be so far from home that I am nowhere,
I long to feel my mind empty, but never refill,
Because there is a war inside my mind, it's so loud, it's cataclysmic,
And what wouldn't I do for the lethargy of nothingness?
What wouldn't I do to put silence to the deafening clangour of my brain?
My war is only one of millions,
And that's why, perhaps, we are all meant to realise that we were born knowing nothing,
And we shall die knowing nothing.
When the time has come, we will all see each other in the centre of nothing,
We will lock eyes, and realise that you are as clueless as the next person,
And the next person as clueless as the one next to him.
We are a coterie of beings striving to know everything,
Yet, at the very end, we will meet in Bora Bora,
No wiser than the day we were born,
And as we stare into the horizon, we realise that existence is beyond what we will ever see again,
So we close our eyes and feel the venom rush through our bodies at last,
And even though we are the opposite of that, we feel at home.
I used to fear nothingness,
But now, it is what I strive for.
And perhaps, in another time, or another life,
We will wander off together, to see the sun set for the last time,
And if you don't mind, I hope to see you at Lake Ladoga
Clueless, hopeless, and numb,
But finally, finally at peace.
You looked for my buttons
With nerve and steady pace
Licking my muttons
I loved your sweet-
+Taste-
+Of victim's meat
This you sought in loving me
It helps you to feel complete
I know this-
+Truly-
+Do I miss
The way you made me feel?
My heart filled up with zeal
As I-
+Reminisce-
+About the nights we had
I'm afraid I'll resist
For my health it's-
+Bad-
+For I'm betwixt
A rock and a hard place
Feelings all a mixed
I'm slowly losing-
+Face-
+This simple musing
Like Dexter's DeeDee
BOOM...My la bora tory
T    y   s    a              g
  o    o   o    m        n
          u          u    i
                     ­     s

My Buttons all scattered
My world a tilt-o-whirl
I fade into red
I hate you stupid girl

Sorry for my hasty reactions
I know I blew my top
You only had the best intentions
But Sweets I couldn't stop

Just like a Sour Patch Kid
Sweet, Sour, Gone
I wasn't sure if you did
Ever love me at all
Y Jun 2015
She looked at him in fright
Terror, emanating from the smile she manages
He looked at her in grimace
Control, grinning from words he holds servitude

They looked at each other
Wishing tomorrow but yesterday comes
Exchanging nostalgic reveries in those tiny reflex glances of -we were perfect-

They lay together with bruised knuckles and swollen jaws.
The anticipation of violence et
The anticipation of conspiracy s'épaissir

The fear of being alone and the need to be the man leaves scars on their being whilst they cuddle watching the sun set on the warm coasts of Bora Bora

Their love ebbing away
Don't let love hurt
Slipping away from my fingertips once again.
Beautifully breaking.
Fantastically falling apart.

Days spent pacing with your shallow heart racing just praying for an embracing.
The seasons will keep changing.
Waves will crumble to ashes.
Snow will melt into lungs, indirectly letting us inhale the wintry, frigid weather.
Flowers will be reborn once again and embody scent into our minds once more.
Dreaming of a day when I could rest in the canopy of dogwood and sweet honeysuckle.
Earth is where I'll remain, one with the howling winds and piercing air.
Flowery Aprils and Brutal Novembers.
Burt me regarding the sacred time of my last breath, be it in leaves of maples petals of tulip, crisps of December frost or maybe even crunchy sand in between my toes as told by the trodden beaches of Bora Bora in July.
Just the transition of weather and how I saw the emotions sitting in :)
Zanzibar,
From these waters I picked the salts,
Embroidering my words on their slates,
Asubuhi Nyema Ndugu Nzuri,
The melodies of the moonson,
Has trigger the waves,
They dance to the long drawn song,

                    NDUNGU
The dhows are taut,
And primed for sail,
Is Sofala set?
Are the docks decked?
What about the sands;Are they spiced?
And the puppet performers?


                  NDUNGU
Our cronies will soon ingress,
Reach mapungubwe with my words,
Tell him to tailor rapta and kilwa kisiwani,
And put the leopard kopje in order,

                 NDUNGU
Ultimate,are the bounties swathed?
Kuhusu Ndungu Bora
Zanzibar.

Zanzibar,
Historian E.Lexano,
Daphisha Khapiah Feb 2019
An insatiable wanderlust I wish to be,
Beyond the horizon I ought to see.
The land, the sea and many places,
To meet and greet those beautiful faces.

I wish to visit the spectacular Angkor Wat in Cambodia,
Or tripping on a bumpy Leh-Ladakh Road ride in India.
To swim among the tropical fishes in the Maldives,
Or sitting at the edge of the Kalaupapa Peninsular Cliffs

I wish to meditate at the peak of the Himalaya,
Or adore the fascinating Great Wall of China.
To romance at the Oia- Santorini in Greece,
Or party at the Belearic Islands till the day ceased.

I wish to watch the sunset illuminates the Pyramid of Giza,
Or a calm sunbathe in the magical islands of Bora Bora.
To get awed by the grandeur beauty of the Amazon,
Or simply a Gandola ride in Venice like a Vagabond.

I wish to sip the finest Bordeaux Wine in France,
Or get drown in the madness of “Tomorrow land”.
To visit the isolated Chile Easter Island,
Or brave the arduous climb to the top of Fuji mountain.

I wish to embark on a panoramic train ride to Machu Picchu,
Or immersed on remnants of the mythical history of Peru.
To witness the Aurora Borealis in Norway,
Or the divine old city of Jerusalem is a must visit someday.

I will travel through the land and the ocean,
Could be a random plan without a direction.
But I will travel far and I will travel near,
And I will keep my feet rolling every where.
Watching his velour for he was to be my knight,
Dismounting he spoke in clever clichés and poetic chime,
Swooned & enchanted my silk craft flutter upon the ground

Dreaming I of fevered kiss at night chambers,
Unforgettable the offense my skirts held high,
Would he carry the fortune of a king and wisdom of a sage?
Pray tell my good knight of roses across the moon

Merlin be twining the silk thread,
Mine fingers restless in watch over the mazes,
His crafting potions and poisons be pale,
All through bora blue skies trembling flesh am I

One hand to the sky, another to earth below,
Doth love speak there at centre of thy chest?
Admist silent alchemy foretold,
Methought Magick be alone sorrows gold

Smoothing long silks, lily pond sings,
Mine tortured concupiscence
Reflection light is seeping,
Spectral are illusions spawn immortal gold,

Star lights ignite mine love sweet knight
Why so far?


  © Arnay Rumens / A Sol Poet 2013
Stephen E Yocum Dec 2023
An addendum to 2013 HP poem
"The Road to One Chicken"
with 37,000 "Public" reads.

She was there again, a vision.
Slow walking with assured purpose
and grace not seen in most women
of any age, barefoot or in sandals.
Mainland restrictive shoes unknown,
and not required by her. A free spirit
exhibiting nary a hint of artifice,
a natural unaffected beauty.

Wind fluttering her long dark hair
like a flag atop the mast of a sleet
schooner upon a gentle rolling sea.
A Tahitian girl barely 20 walking
beside me, on a dirt road, by the
vibrant blue Ocean, holding my
hand and smiling.

Not having a common language
our eyes, some pidgin talk and
gestures conveyed all that was
needed. We loved one another
for a few days and nights, and
then too soon I departed as crew
on a sloop bound for Bora Bora,
while she remained happily
behind on her beautiful island.

Both this girl and her island
tenderly vividly remembered,
for over 50 years.

Some impressions last forever.
Unlike myself, she remains young
and vibrant evermore, a benevolent
ghost memory dream only appearing
at night and always assuredly welcome.
Now from time to time she visits me
in my dreams and I always wake up
smiling. Last night was one of those
times, and I was compelled to write it
down.
Butch Decatoria Mar 2017
You know the kind,

Away from the whine

That annoying squeal of indifference

Away from that

Car collisions, the metals crunch your bones,

The manic suckling

Off Mother's back

The suffocation of our own lungs

The pollution of Her consumption

I want to steer away from that

Stung

"Acht tung"

I want moments of reprieve

When no pain is given

When the empty dark is taking

The beauty that should be seen

In every fiber of our being

Bora Bora

Paradise

Where in such love of lovely places

We feel at peace

That perfect reprieve

Moments of a Universe

Believed

The truth revealed

Between you

And within me

Together

Only in my wildest dream

Love .

You are my moments of

Serenity.
KorbydAngyle Apr 2021
How'd you know to put pickle in the Tempura?
Partial MB 4 Kim Buff Awe Echo sell gee
Wait it's my turn
What do you
have to
say for your self?
Not nearly as spry to be
wanted as Bora Bora Waters Febreze
I don't know what i was thinking when i decided this was poetry, however, here it is  none the less.
a strong bora
sends the boats in the port
rocking and clanging

people keep clutching
their hats
tightly to their heads
their skirts to their thighs

we take windblown photographs
of each other
before the harbor bay

the wind is not as wild
as on the funny drawings
on those picture postcards
that show everything flying
   through the air

but things are bad enough
to bring tears to your eyes
and to make us turn our backs
on the rest
   of Trieste
and dry our eyes
over coffee and coke
in a small bar
   around the corner

           * *
Trieste is a lovely old multicultural Italian city on the northern Mediterranean. Bora is a fierce fall wind in this area, blowing from the land to the sea
Manboipoet May 2020
Italy for the pasta
Bora Bora for the sea
Paris for the romance
Thailand for the beach
Brazil for the carnivals
India for the tea
Carribean for the chicken
Argentina for the beef
The list could go on
But anywhere with you
Is the most wonderful place to be
Inspired by:
Those moments where it doesn’t matter what you do or where you go but it’s the people you’re surrounded by that truly make the experience what it is
Just some poet Nov 2018
Water like Bora Bora
Chicago got nothing on this wind
Made Uranus his *****
God he looks so blue
AAron Roz May 2018
Coe novinha bora fuder?
Now tell me, who knows what this means? (And it's in Portuguese.)
Please, inform me what this means. I want to see what you know.
Travis Green Apr 2021
His love is the highest flight there is
He’s like bliss on a summer night
When the feelings are so right
His kisses take me away
His touches come to stay
His fingers trail my lips
Makes me love him deeper

To see a vision of heaven in my eyes
To see a man standing tall
Laced up with the haircut
With the swagger
With the Italian shoes to match
He flies me first-class on private jets
Served caviar and champagne
By elegant flight attendants

Laid back on Matira Beach
Relishing the sand surfacing our feet
Feeling the wind swirling in our world
Watching the sunshine hover high over us
Seeing the clouds pass by
How magical it is to feel his body on mine
How chill it is to be taken aback by his swag
He’s so hella smoke with a cold flow
He’s so hawt in his Versace swim shorts and sunglasses
With his Cartier watch
With his S21 Ultra 5G phone

Later, we’ll check-in
At the Intercontinental Bora Bora Resort & Thalasso Spa
Feel the love on a Saturday night
Relaxing up in our room
Sipping Billionaire *****
And smoking cigars
Lying in bed and cuddling
Feeling fuddled
Savoring this vivacious vacation
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2015
Bucket List
Butan
Bali
Cambodia ...Angkor Wat etc
China
Bora Bora
Budapest, Berlin, Prague
Patagonia
South of France (together)
More in Spain ...incl Ibiza
Amalfi Coast (done)
Greek isles
Tahiti
Kyoto
See the Northern lights
Gorilla Tracking
South Africa
Fiji Islands
Normandy Beach
Pompeii
Amazon Rainforest
Lake District England
Australia
New Zealand
La Scala
get the suitcases from the attic,
throw away the bread and the open milk
Travis Green Dec 2021
He is ardently chocolate fella
Magical, strapping, intriguing, and lionized
Irrefutably soothing, resplendent with strength and tenderness
His engagingness beckons me to his door of bliss
He is refined, priceless, and sprightly
Massagable, matchless, and maximum muscularity
His earthly world is more dreamy than the stars and moon
He is exceedingly picturesque as a dream trip to Bora Bora
His voice is like a lovingly luring melody
That enchants me under the scarlet and spectacular sunset
His kisses are like love letters that I press to my lips
Just to feel him more, to bask in him evermore
Relaxing on his magnificently massive chest
Gives me the best vibes ever
Witnessing his seductively alluring eyes and eyebrows
Makes me yearn to reside with him in his private sleeping chamber
Get into something special and relish whatever comes next

— The End —