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Mateuš Conrad Nov 2016
children no longer obey their parents,
and everybody is writing a book.
      circa 1914 - 1924a.d.

away with you to the lyricist!
    and not to the earth bound roughage
of toil and till -
      or was that not the first encouragement?
have not but the first sipped water
   of these optical realm, fused more
than as modern antidote has it -
   been more intoxicating to see as if a first
dawn of Belshazzar?
              have these not been the invitations
   for scaling the summit of tw. Babylon?
then indeed, not with care or plush attire,
have we descended into an idle affair -
for the insurmountable cohort rattled
even the lesser who still struck a chord of
defiance and belittled by the world: mused.
as so much of love pours onto paper -
             and a paper that later becomes a slab
of stone, plunges with splash and splatter into
the sea as unknown as that, which
encompases the orbit of Neptune -
                 in that void and in that void,
        can we rarely find a bottle to bottle all
things concerning, up.
           or is that: man can no longer play monopoly
with the medium, or indeed he can:
      nuance layered upon nuance layered upon
insinuation, layered upon metaphor,
layered upon non-literalism, layered upon
   literalism, layered upon pun, layered upon
abstract, layered upon fear, layered upon
politics, correct?
                                  by the allotropes of carbon!
to the times when one could say one thing and
one thing only and feel a *will
toward something
being testimony of unequivocal thoughts!
at a time when not everyone practiced politics
on such a scale, or wasn't prescribed
a journalistic career on the sly,
          when it fact: mere charity work.
life for life, word for word, deed for deed -
                       and to hell with human circumstance:
whether awe-struck, or awe-bound,
                     or as most can attest... neither.
now all is said, but nothing can be done -
       for now the only thing being said
   is a question of whether it be vogue
                                or ragged mops strewn
across a dark cupboard space -
as too the warm doughnuts and baguettes
on a Monday morning with headlines and
articles and opinion sections and photographs
and adverts... nothing more
                    than toilet paper already used
to wipe one's ****... lying facedown in
a puddle on some street: by the afternoon.
perhaps this too be a melancholy art,
        akin to the journalistic endeavour -
and perhaps both the hope in poetry as the hope
in journalism: is for at least a single
memorable day to be nothing but a sabbath.
could this world ever envision a media sabbath?
probably not... as this poem suggests...
   and another, and another... and...
Sarah Spang Jun 2015
He told her she was pottery; a vase with grooves and cracks.
The patterns of the history she hid behind her back.

Within his words he layered in- like thread upon a loom-
The sweetest undercurrent to illuminate that gloom.

In certain cultures, he decreed, when pottery is cracked
They aggrandize them with gleaming gold to bring their splendor back

For they believe, with certainty, once damage has been wrought
Those tiny cracks, now filled with light, hold truths that can't be taught.
Hadrian Veska  Aug 2019
Delve
Hadrian Veska Aug 2019
Down and down
Layered
Layers upon layers
Years and centuries
Down through the earth
Layered
Cities built
On the back of ruins
Those ruins themselves
Layered and layered
On the backs of further ruins
Far more ancient
Yet equally hollow
Layered sepulchers
Tombs and labyrinths  
Overlapping and intersecting
Time and space
Layered themselves
Deeper and deeper
Places and spirits
Intertwined
Layered and overlapping
Time does not pass
Or perhaps it does
Only backwards and forwards
Swinging like a pendulum
Deeper and deeper
Until all layers are one
All spaces the same
And all time
Now layered together
elle jaxsun Jul 2018
looking at
sedona red
rock layered majesties

against bright, cerulean sky
and marshmallow clouds
droplets dripping, pecking our cheeks

sitting on
the balcony of a casita
holding hands with my peace

surrounded by forest green
and buzzing honey bees
they mingle with the flowers

and i mingle with my peace
06102018
Blissful Nobody Sep 2018
I must be made out of stone,
A stone is a good thing to be,
I have weathered wounds ,
Changed a bit on the outside,
The core remains the same .

A stone is a good thing to be ,
Nothing changes inside,
A landslide or an avalanche,
It’s just an adventurous ride,
An experience that shaped me.

Nothing changes inside,
Time has layered me solid,
A little unraveling by nature,
Is time again working on me,
Showing the grit that makes me.

Time has layered me solid,
Bruises sharpened my edges,
Water smothered me smooth,
I could lay alone for ages,
Or I could flow and dissolve .
LAYERED EMOTIONS



Heaps of hope she heaved on
the rare orchid, bidding it bloom.

Annum four begot the boon;
it tested its little magic
and sprouted a slender shoot,
sprinkled with decimal buds.  

She kept breathing life into her hope,
pining for the buds’ open sesame,
and daily guarded over it,
with her adored two year old.

Slowly, after what seemed a ‘thapas’
the teeny buds unfurled, one by one,
into a beauteous brooch of mimosa pink.

Moment of pure fulfilment!

Next noon, her beloved two year old
drew nigh, with a spring in his sprint,
chirping, ‘mom, close your eyes,
I have a present for you.’

Mom geared up as per order,
eager to glimpse the gift of love.

‘One, two, three: open your eyes’
the proud voice cooed.

She obeyed and lo!
upheld in his tender fingers
was the rarest of gifts,
the pendant of her four year dream,
the mimosa pink brooch!

He offered his token of love
with a proud enchanting smile!

Should she cry,
or should she laugh?

She did both.

She locked him in a bear hug,
showering kisses all over,
proud of his precious love!

But tears of joy, laced with dismay
silently dripped down her cheeks!

It was a loaded moment
of layered emotions!
heavily loaded, heavily layered!
"Thapas" : Long meditative waiting
'Layered Emotions' is a poem that will be included in my second volume of poems 'Summer Snow'
ryn  Feb 2015
Scent
ryn Feb 2015
Blue clouds gaze the wrapped sun
frozen kisses in my blood
travelling a thousand miles
to meet up with you.

There is none else walking
down this path where memories
wake up and dance
inside my armored heart.

I peeled off each kisses embrace
out of my parched lips.
I shook off the tree,
where your scent had blossomed.

Every step down this scarcely trodden path saw...
Each peel fall with helpless, damsel-like grace.
Brown leaves shone amber touched by fingers of the sun
Invasion of warmth through my greyed bony carapace.

Gentle tremors reverberate within with subtle anguish.
Sweet scented portal that took me back,
To the illusion of time where we once were...
In drunken stupor...laying under a star strewn canvas of black.

Senses that spoke of a great fantastical tale.
You are still here... In this cloying void with no one around...
Only that scent...your scent tugging on my core
Invisible tendrils berthing my feet back on ground.


Alone and wanting don't want to be anymore.
I want to feast my lungs on your skin once more.
I want to vibrate under your touch again,
In anguished anticipation and sweet pain.

I hurl your name to the echoing wind,
Blowing ferociously over the closed passage.
Only to find that I'm but elongating
the distance between our fading wishful stars.

Fading far only to find that I'm lost yet again,
Still harvesting a basket full of ripened hope.
Traversing planes with warped, slanted doorways,
Frantically seeking purchase on knobs with fevered gropes.

Heavy layered breaths inhaled too shallow...
Tracing missteps to decipher what it all meant.
When all is moot...weary, weathered and futile,
Forever I'll be bathing in the familiarity of your soothing, nectarous scent...



Dajena M
**ryn
My first collab with the incredible Dajena M. She had deleted her account and the collaborative pieces she had posted went away as well. But... I found them!!! Yay!

I'm so glad we had the chance to collaborate on such an amazing piece together.
Sayer  Mar 2013
Invisible Rain
Sayer Mar 2013
outside there was invisible rain:

forgetting everything at once, I blinked

the colors changed and the tone settled until I blinked once more

the colors came back, the tone arrived on time

a mere hour beforehand I looked at her face

beyond time and space, throughout the souls of everyone in the room(don’t give up)

the only one I thought of was you, looking at you

what was causing your agreement…

can our eyes not even meet?

(meet me here, leave me there-take me a journey)

there’s no reason to bother anymore



I drifted away from the passion

focusing on the important details(my hero making strong points)

across from me, the other

at least she looks at me and smiles

-no, I can’t

can I? float between souls again to feel at peace

this is not a debate or an argument

we should just work like it does for other lovers

but no, that’s not how it works

walking to the end of the earth would not help



I’ve really crashed this car into the wall

to forget it all

the colors disappear and reappear

did I drift off? or tricks and invisible rain and

why don’t you just listen to my message!

this shouldn’t be such a game

-at least she looks at me and smiles

therefore everything I’ve ever created should burn

and on its side it will turn

over and let me fall off

(you’re not getting my message!)

throughout time and space, floating through the souls not in front of me anymore

but in my head instead

which makes me ask the question-



(where am I?)

does she care for me?

if the smile is a truth than I’ll fly

it would be worth it in the end, I presume



you need to just listen…                                                                                               (O save me iridescent soul!)

can’t you just listen!                                                                                                       (O forgotten ended beginning)

your eyes-meet mine?                                                                                                   (O never again forgotten love)

this is the place, the time, and the season…                                                         (O invisible rain pour down!)

                                                                                                (O invisible rain come down and cleanse my soul while I drift between you and her and her and you; forget me not! this is for you, for you to not fall into a black hole forever layered over images of the past and the future. beyond reason, beyond reality, we need to cut it in little pieces and burn it all for our love to kindle and explode into the night sky! I need your help with this one, before I fall down and into her arms, but if that’s what you want, and what she wants, so be it, forever, and ever, and ever…..)

white layered over white layered over white….

O save me iridescent soul, send your invisible rain to pour down, and like cupid’s bow, create love, somewhere, between someone and I

white over layered white over layered white….

Have you forgotten something? at least she looks at me and smiles

black overcoming white the overcoming of the blue overcoming the past….

I’m ready to accept it all, just throw it on me as we travel

past the overcoming of the blue overcoming the white overcoming the black-

(once again we)

Cut it!
v V v  Jul 2018
San Francisco
v V v Jul 2018
I have been to where
the lonely go, and I’ve
seen their luring towers,
calling those who
have no hope, who come
from far away to see

if coming was a mistake.

Will we ever know
who doesn’t go?
and what of those that go
but remain unknown?
Perhaps they go at night.

The horror of it.

To not be able to see the end
but still it comes and quickly.
A silent floating moment
in a winter of regret,
a springtime of longing,
a summer of sunshine,
Or a fall to the end

of the world in 7 seconds.

A super cosmic collider of
meticulous destruction.

Whether we stay or go
its all the same,
multi-layered levels of
brokenness,
no one is immune.
No one is immune.

Some spend time putting
things back together,
the spacing between levels allows it.
Others break over and over
and over again,
not enough space for repair

while the pull of the towers,
the flaming red towers and
the fog rolling down
from the west promise silence.

When I stood at the edge and looked over,
the noise was deafening.

The ones without space
cannot hear.
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Around* the time
Both eyes

So fixated double-book
  Marked inside the
    fairytale
      *     *    
She spread her layers
Like the Bitter beauty
So truly ribbons curly
Like the beast changed
her fruit
Please come home soon

Trying to sugarcoat stars
My date with the moon wars
Silk thread My sweet Lord

Remembering the taste
A forever not forgotten
the beat wrong words may
get you both in heat

A glass of wine I love thee
Share the good eats
And pray "Mighty God" life is hard
So misleading silk heart of words
What was truly said
over again to repeat
The best silver playful
wings of white's
like a shrine all mine

The smile when your
the heart is the aching
Love didn't feel right
Those confessions
to play out the
innocent love dose night

He summons her on
Queen Antionette
Killing me softly

French silk pastry I love thee
Not to pry covering up the
commander

Layers he could smell
She's settling in
Like the splendor picnic
grass of fruit
What a big mouth
He has the perfect foot

It's her the Owl toot
The hard labor of words
Overlaid  like under
the weather maid
Finely crafted silk leather
Florence Italy boots

To fought out in every dip
of his fruit
Vegetables the envy
of the green planet of Kale
She was so jaded
Layering Silk Thine
It's time to be mated
The many layers of his smile
Shadowed over the windows
strangers enchanted by what they saw

Like Tomato vine silk
thine running away from love
There was note pulling them back
The longer you wait for
a double feature smack

Meeting the dark hawks
Nothing could stop her
When he talks wind blows
Magical silk tongue
drips overflow

Silk weave on his
white crisp shirt
His tears met my blouse
talk can be cheap but not
from your spouse

The bed looks like
the heart of science
The heart of silk birds
communicate to
the brain of buzzing bees
Missed the timeless
train____
on your knees

Whats more death do us part
Something took a beating
Eternal return to me meeting

I silk Thine or rose thorn for me
What about the day

You were born the sign
and meanings
The brain overworked
our hearts
Two newlywed blue worker collar

Like a citation scholarly
Turned into a citation court
order of traffic

Layering all his missteps
play up her lips
Easy for most play along
toe to toe ring
He's the Hub that bubbly wish
"English Yardley" sing
Style of writing waved
her in the tub

Whispering words
all layered like
a dark promise
She had a Blackout

Mercilessly another sip
Divine silk  Turkish coffee
All in the weave of
dark clouds
on his sleeve

Mom the dressmaker such a
miracle worker
Cleaning up secrets the tears so
many delicate sides of years

Mail order bride stargazer
  heart stopped when
he dressed her
Layering on Silk Thine
Mr. and Mrs. Valentine
Regine
Physiological mechanism
My silk of words theory
His beard heart stubble

What truly appeals
Meditation the truth heals
Sumptuous layered
strawberry
shortcake more
time too short

Her wavy hair in
his heart of palms
Swinging from the trees
Making such a ruckus

Her nerve ending
like a sad song story
Robin Birds bring
on the Morning Glory

Every September
Silk stir of wine
To see the thine
*Precious Silk Rose
,
you had me
Star*

Watching the world
of poems light
Why "God"
Saying how come tonight
Or not tonight please make it
"Holy Night"

He loves the way
you look how you turn
your head
On the side
of his glide

Your sleeping in
his bed he
looks at you with
layers of sweetness
Layering our heart on the line but nothing is going right we need to realize what we got its not the best wine or the rose or making money from your modeling pose it is how the layers stay with your words think clearly be lively love him and yourself like silk thine like every day is lovers heart like Valentine
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Something is
simmering  *  
  ****      
His spice the stars*
His cologne heat up the
woods
Lips and taste boiling
The Green Irish Tweed
Epicurean love at
the Italian
Spice Epic Stadium

Here comes the
Sun the__?
Royal Mayfair

strikingly
My Fair Lady
The spice diction of words
Her name is Sage Lady Bird
You could feel her smile
shimmering

Carnal spice knowledge
Savory animalistic
Spice culture ******
Citrusy fancy dress
Not to panic
His Sunday gravy
Italian sauce garlicky  
She could win so pungent
Spicy lady Pagent

The poor stealing the
rich culture
Sage surrender like the Oz
Like Robin Hood

Spice of life this is our life
Top of the sea salt Spy
scouring
You better have a love
Like a deep pouring
Her Sage Genie bottle
on the stove

Her sheerness lascivious robe

The Meditteranean sea with
Four leaf clovers
freeloaders
These cultures and eyes of
strength feature
There is no time to
break up for the love of a spice
Is this the human race
Fresh linens better company
What a primary
Oh! Hail Mary

Those ethnic spices
what a sensual smell
Sage pretty coffee cup show and tell
What a razzle top of her cake
The media takes over all
painted and swirled
Baked spicy finger she dialed

Through her locket heart sake
Recovered love reconciled
The Teddy Rosevelt or Chicago Bears
tight hugs of cultures


Hairy chest his smooth gestures
Culture rough and tough exterior

Like the smile beautiful mind
creature
Beyond to be seen
The Spices computer
world of devices
Strawberry fields forever
But what is forever more love
Crises

Do we always lose our stripes
Feeling layered with her cereal
Tony the tiger
Whats great about curses
Sage speechless can feel the
roar spicy mouth
Going South or North
Victorian corset sensual
Guity spice dark side of Goth
Hot desire from both
The pine needles
Christmas time
The mistletoe kissing pointing to the star

Wearing herself out with her
pointed pump shoe*
But losing her spirit what to
endeavor
*The Blue Horizon Spice Rub

The  pub the sky has no limits
to the Stars that twinkle
The Gods to their *****
Rip Van Winkle
Dry Vermouth or the Russian Roulette
French spice Crepe Suzette

"Adam I Apple Dante Jubilee
Eve was more like a neigh
Horse spicy slide Colonel Spicy mustard
Meeting General Lee Sage custard

Her handkerchief
with sage cut leaves
Hearing echoes what gives
Anyone's spice rack
of shoes engraves Sage leafs

Noone really knows for sure
She wore spice deep blue velvet
Jade Ring Brittish Colony
Stuck to her beliefs like a magnet

Eating vegetable and fish
Her best China ever find her dish

How the jade chandelier twisted
Became laughing like two musketeers
New York City love Serendipity
The Queen chair so domineer
'What Debutants"
Crazed like spices of mutants
The anger management getting
the evil out
The shoutbox strong clove spice
Sage was never outfoxed
Her **** jaded uniform
The firefighter Smoky the bear
  eyes of candlelight storm
didn't make it this year
Torn to tears like two
vultures of
the haunted night
He peddles fast
But the fear needs to disappear

Fresh lake smells fresh
as her breath
The culture and media
make tons of mistakes
She knows what she wants
Not a jungle of
poisonous snakes
He knows what he doesn't want
to tell her
Perhaps losing his
bark dog naps
The best part engage her on
Sage with a heart
The fruit her
flesh and blood
The blood on his finger
Her medicinal herbs
of China
The mason spice jar is empty
The full heart needs his half
Cream of the crop
Careless love accidentally
spice dropped
Sensual Chin like pine needles
The exception to the rule more leaders
Remember Every September
to leave your scent
We all have needs we want
Drinking all the flavors of Snapple
*Big waves of the ripple don't you
love her amazing dimples
Sage spice mighty divine but when its mixed love can be jinxed watch out. But just keep singing her "Sage way" her garden is magnificent in every way just pray
It changed me
  The way I see the world
A saw the sacred scrolls
The woven numbers
Layered beneath reality
It Left me a touch of strange
a hint of madness
But greater understanding
ryn  Apr 2015
Spectrum Green
ryn Apr 2015
Welcome the new day
As night lifted her screen
The sun had brought its palette
Boasting of colours never before I've seen

Rays like paintbrushes
As they dove into the water
Light explosively burst into emeralds
Ripple and eddies would sparkle and shimmer

Bolts from the orange orb
Speared the tops of trees and sprawling ground
Tinting their leaves with green of olives
And grass with freshness abound

Its wand touched the tip of the distant lighthouse
Turning it the brightest green
It brought life back to my surrounding
Layered my eyes with the greenest of sheens

Such beauty laid bare
The difference was literally night and day
But my heart is also green
To readily accept what my mind has to say

As if a child
Or yet still a greenhorn
I should ignore the stains of yellow
And enjoy this new day that had just been born

— The End —