armando-a - Hello Poetry

That ghost of love past has come to me most unexpectedly, and I, who thought the world predictable, have found that I know less of future pleasures than past pains. So beautiful a ghost that fears have left my heart like demons from Pandora's crate. Demons, do not dare return to me for you will find no place in this now joyous soul. Demons, do not dare return, for beauty has now filled the unimagined spaces of my mind and drawn me blind.

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Nov 30, 2010

Nov 30, 2010 at 5:52 PM UTC

Demons

That ghost of love past has come to me most unexpectedly, and I, who thought the world predictable, have found that I know less of future pleasures than past pains. So beautiful a ghost that fears have left my heart like demons from Pandora's crate. Demons, do not dare return to me for you will find no place in this now joyous soul. Demons, do not dare return, for beauty has now filled the unimagined spaces of my mind and drawn me blind.

20

How enticing the scent of woman, that often quite forbidden fruit. ----------0---------- That morning smelt of *** and its dew trickled thinly down my throat. ----------0---------- The silence filled the air, and drowsy, I listened to that lullaby. ----------0---------- Noise in the form of jazz. Beneath my boot the crunch of dry mud memories.

0

Nov 29, 2010

Nov 29, 2010 at 3:33 PM UTC

American Haiku

How enticing the scent of woman, that often quite forbidden fruit. ----------0---------- That morning smelt of *** and its dew trickled thinly down my throat. ----------0---------- The silence filled the air, and drowsy, I listened to that lullaby. ----------0---------- Noise in the form of jazz. Beneath my boot the crunch of dry mud memories.

15

The wolfish face laps water from the laughing creek. A snap and off go the feet through the giant redwood trees up the stone, down the moss

0

Jul 6, 2010

Jul 6, 2010 at 4:14 PM UTC

Visions in the Trees

The wolfish face laps water from the laughing creek. A snap and off go the feet through the giant redwood trees up the stone, down the moss

9

Nature is one great lover from whose soft and tender kisses on the senses inspiration comes.

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Jul 6, 2010

Jul 6, 2010 at 4:08 PM UTC

Nature

Nature is one great lover from whose soft and tender kisses on the senses inspiration comes.

4

The silent teardrops on the White, taut skin. The rush of color to the Face, the reds, the blacks. A silhouette appears from the Deliberate motions of the Hand. So soft those silent Teardrops on the face.

0

Jul 6, 2010

Jul 6, 2010 at 4:04 PM UTC

Teardrops

The silent teardrops on the White, taut skin. The rush of color to the Face, the reds, the blacks. A silhouette appears from the Deliberate motions of the Hand. So soft those silent Teardrops on the face.

8

All around the sound So satisfying of those Simple trickles of the tongue. Tumultuous rhythms That track their Path along my peaceful mind, Merit the mystic in the silence

0

Jul 6, 2010

Jul 6, 2010 at 4:01 PM UTC

Sounds

All around the sound So satisfying of those Simple trickles of the tongue. Tumultuous rhythms That track their Path along my peaceful mind, Merit the mystic in the silence

7

The screams from trenches and deafening blows of mental bombs attack all attention, such conflicts

0

Jul 6, 2010

Jul 6, 2010 at 3:55 PM UTC

Conflicts

The screams from trenches and deafening blows of mental bombs attack all attention, such conflicts

5

The droning sound That drains the system. That tiger hides In prowl amongst the foliage Of my mind and dances In the dreams of such Arousing lucidity. Oh, how those dreams Invade the senses in The room of droning sound drowning all thought, drowning all

0

Jul 6, 2010

Jul 6, 2010 at 3:51 PM UTC

Day Dream

The droning sound That drains the system. That tiger hides In prowl amongst the foliage Of my mind and dances In the dreams of such Arousing lucidity. Oh, how those dreams Invade the senses in The room of droning sound drowning all thought, drowning all

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