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32.5k · Dec 2016
Wistful in the Wilderness
Marco Buschini Dec 2016
Into the wonderment of your autumnal mind.
Where the skin of your grief sheds its leaves.
Is the song of your sea bound into colourful light?
The Shepherd breaches the flock of your dreams,
And the pastures breathe a sigh of relief,
As your tears of morning dew
Glisten the parched landscape.
Does your bouquet of *****
Lay wistfully in the wilderness?
The skies of blue that reside in your eyes
Serenades the coming of the tide,
Harvesting the fruit of our labour of love.
Is this a wind of smile that turns into a voyage of valiancy?
A flock of thoughts liberated with a cry of exclamation
As your fears of autumn blue
Are exiled into the rapacious wind.
Marco Buschini Dec 2016
Lie within chaos, and create comfort
In visions of endless love.
Riding slowly on the crest of a morning fling, and flutter,
The body stutters
Like a street dancer.
Shine in different directions
And end the yearning
For a love of creativity
By stripping off
And darting
Into a sea of uncertainty,
with a sense of
Unimaginable lust for what keeps you
Ticking like a sturdy clock.
Find the rhymes that combine
With what lies inside the mind,
To stumble upon the future pleasure,
That you unearth with delight,
As you wonder.
Inspiration is born out of desire.
Fuel to fire the birth of creation.
The mind quakes for a taste
Of the cake, that is blessed with greatness.
15.0k · Nov 2016
Breath of Inevitability
Marco Buschini Nov 2016
The pulsating, pearl moon
Harbours the last remnants of romance,
Scintillating, in the valourous sky,
As I surrender to call upon her spirit
To bring her back to me.
I longingly strip, craving the vivacity of her caress.
Irresistible, I would yield to the perpetual
Power of her touch.
Immersed in the shadowy depths,
Rippling serenities of thought.
I glimpse at her reflective soul,
Shimmering upon the ravenous river,
Emanating from the stars
In all their graceful radiance.
Her heart illuminates
The benevolent evening.
The breath of inevitability
Stings my skin, as I dress,
Firing my arrows of impatience
Disconsolately, into the shivering azure,
Hoping for a way
To penetrate her very being.
2.3k · Jan 2019
Secrets of the Tides
Marco Buschini Jan 2019
Bending the benevolence
Into a lucid sky of white,
An indulgence of an
Evocatively colourful odessy.
My dearest mother
Of the muse,
A whispering sea
Of beckoning delicacy.
Divulging enriching
Secrets of the tides.
Majestic sands of salty
Caramel delight,
Unravelling the enigmatic
Solitude of time.
Grains of meandering
Contemplation;
Emancipating the mind
From the burden
Of the distortive rhythm,
And into the truest dream
Of night,
Where the spirit chimes solely
In awakened starlight.
Marco Buschini May 2019
Into the masquerade
Of her unyielding dream,
I see her flash into ambiguity.
A vestige of fluorescent
Transcendental light particles
Rising into the zenith,
Through a liquescent portal,
Into the reminiscence
Of her fanciful bloom.
I meander through the enigmatic
Labyrinth of her
Never-ending rumination.
Through the postern door,
Into a frolic of festivity;
A jamboree of her
Effervescent frivolity.
A sudden vision
Of our exuberant youth,
The romantic tryst by the fountain.
Our souls interlaced,
weaving in the wind
As we gaze at her fragrant,
Celestial moon.
The ambience of her earthly silence
Conjures the emergence of a stairway
Into her intuitive star.
Our ephemeral dalliance,
In an evaporating mirage
Of unrelenting fortitude,
Of what was once forgotten.
I take my enamoured bow,
With ardent strings of burning light
And fire fervently to seek
Her euphonious heart.
493 · May 2019
Mrs. Suspicious
Marco Buschini May 2019
Mrs. Suspicious,
Was doing the dishes,
And was worried
About the spider in the bath.
So she called on her husband,
Who sorts out problems
By the dozen, and yelled:

'**** the monster on the march!'

So he got out his shotgun,
And thought this will be much fun,
And he made his way slowly
As he laughed.
But the spider was gone,
As he searched on and on,
But had no such luck as time passed.

'So did you find the spider?'
'No dear he slipped by us'
The spider made hiding an art.
Mrs. Suspicious baked a cake,
And with delight they both ate,
Of which the spider was a part.
208 · Jul 2020
The Weight of Gold
Marco Buschini Jul 2020
We do solemnly swear;
That forever more,
We shall live in a world
All on our own.
A world that consists of
Pure pleasure,
And unequivocal harmony.
That will last forever,
And a Sunday.
And so from this day forth,
We shall exude the richness
Of the heavens,
In ways that are applicable to life
In the most profound way imaginable.
Which will inevitably,
Echo forever more
In the laughing sounds
Of matrimony.
Blessed our velvet tongues
For we speak the weight of gold,
And sing like angels,
Whispering enchanting dreams,
And dancing on clouds.
Hi Guys, I'm reposting The Weight of Gold, as someone hacked into my account and deleted it!! Make it fly again! Cheers.
80 · Feb 26
A Kettle Full of Heat
The end of the cigarette
Burns off spaghetti strings,
While one eye is on the soup.
My shoes, which by the way
Are on my feet,
Swizzle and spin
As the thermometer bursts
From the heat of the kitchen.
The stars can be seen
Through the roof,
As the freezer lets off steam,
And I reach into my pocket
And pull out a rock,
Which I crush with my bare hands.
43 · Mar 10
Thou Art
Thou art the sunlight
That trickles off the
Rippled water.
Thou art the sweetness
Of beauty.
Thou art the spirit of
The trees,
The whistling sound of
The wind,
And I catch thee
Like I would catch a fish.
With a scream of
Delightful madness.
Only to let thee go again.
Back into the sea,
Back into thy divine
Peace.
Only I wait,
For you to catch my bait,
In some other dream.
43 · 3d
The Golden Sky
An undercurrent of coolness
Murmurs in the distance,
As the night shadows
Over a language of a thousand tongues.
A bite of indifference
bitterly breaks the silence.
The transformation looms.
A darting melody shoots across the sky,
As the pure light of my mind
Seeks a dance of flavour.
A Labour of gratitude
Lays abandoned on the riverbank.
I seek no mercy,
Just the stillness of the night.
And when will the golden sky appear?
The ignition of the fire inside
permeates the soul,
As the blend of existence
Bursts into life.
The shape of romance
plays into my hands,
As the inner mirror reflects innocence.
The autumnal ether switches sides,
As the world appropriates Timeflow.
The syllables and parables
crack the taste of forgiveness,
And when we finally deliver remembrance,
life will be ours.

— The End —