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Poems flow in a stream
That winds through me
As I guide them,
Through meandering, uneven
Places in my life,
Or once in a while,
The smooth runs
Where fishing seems easy.
And I collect the pretty stones
That come to rest,
Water-washed, shining,
Along the river’s bank.
And often, there is a pool,
Green-blue, with clear water
And trout shadows, swift
And still, making a brief home,
Suspended above the sand.
Those are the ones I choose,
The surface touched only
By tree-filtered sunbeams
And beckoning on summer days.
It seems sometimes to me
That poets travel backward
Up to the source of beauty,
Where the water is still pure,
After struggling up through
Rapids and waterfalls,
Or wading through swamps
Down where the stream ends
And a wide river opens up.
Giant rivers can be majestic
But they often bury the gems
Brought down from the
From mountain caves and highlands
Swallowing them to swirl,
Mixed-up with the jewels
Of other poets’ streams.
And from remembrance
We gather our dreams.
Does sorrow fill the traveler
Who reaches the dark places
Where springs emerge
From some place we cannot see?
Mariah Roy Mar 18
Emerald green eyes
Never tell lies
At birth crystallized
Mother Earth's satisfied

Forever attached to ones heart
Not controlling, but a partner
To guide you through this wild life
To hold your heart, yet not too tight

Emerald green
Not with envy
Green with love
And warming hugs

Embedded deep inside your soul
To lead you with it's ivy gold
To make your heart sweet and bold
Your blood is red, your heart's emerald
Isn’t that glimmer visible?
That wonderful sparkle, like a fly to the light
A shining diamond, an alluring sight  

Seeker and seeked and discovered overtly
What fun is its commonality?
Must you spend a two months salary?

But see the gem in the rough
Weighed far less in value
But nonetheless faceted
Judge it harshly shall you?

The trope of the diamond
Has been pried from those eyes
By the multi-facets and spectrums
Of transient angles, translucent drums  
Milky or lustrous, a separate conundrum

Choose the opal, akin to the human soul
Shimmering subtly and brightly
Gently and ever-changed nightly
Like the starriest coals
Trill and hover ever-so lightly

Discovering the treasures in the rough
That others could never trust
They’ll lie in waiting, perhaps turn to dust
clmathew Feb 1
Precious gems
started January 14th, 2021

Sometimes I think of
poems and people
misplaced lost missing gone

they live on
as gems in
my heart

tumbled smooth
by the turbulence
of my frantic love

each a precious
polished stone
ruby labradorite jade peridot

nightly before I sleep
I kiss them each one
so they will have sweet dreams.
How do you write about someone who has passed? We have all experienced this losing. You would recognize the words. I could say his name. Charles. I could describe him and the shape of the world without him. Instead of that, I leave you with his last words to me, included in the poem above. May he, and you, find peace tonight.
looking d
                 o
                   w
                      n on this earth,
the moon sheds iridescent liquid pearl gems,  
Lamenting FOR EARTH,
                             a earth that's pregnant
                                            with
                               sorrowful burdens,
how must I not feel despair,
feeling the moon's magnificent repercussions of sudden eruption,
feeling of sheer dread,
tearfully pleading for it to end,


In shock, for a moment,
muted are my words,
my tongue asleep,
Fingers crave, mind agonized...
martyred for words.

My pen bleeds ink,
innovating a remdesivir,
to cure the world,
if only there were a cure for
ONE
   &
ALL!

To cure the world of the pandemic burdens of HATE, INJUSTICE and VIOLENCE,
but until then,
we must not dabble in silence!
~SacredInkedBlood
In light of these recent events I feel that we should stand up boldly and not be silenced. We should stand united. It never had to come to any of this if it had of never been started by Racist Americans. It should've been nipped in the bud 400 years ago. Equality and all of mankind should've been treated with the same respect. But 1 group of people or 1 bad apple can ruin it for so many. Anytime you  have people who believe that they are better than other's and should have more rights then as you see everyone is at each other. Even friends & family become divided on these controversial topics. Are there any fair leaders out there ready to step up that are humane, intelligent, reasonable, mature and compassionate? Or is it too late for this world today? Is it all bases on dollar signs, power and greed from here on put until the end? Either way speak up against injustice. Thank you. .
#AuthorVenJArnold #SacredInkedBlood #VenjencieCliftonArnold https://m.facebook.com/VenjencieCliftonArnold  The Cure written on the 8th day of June in the year of 2020.Be blessed in this crazy world🙏
Michael R Burch Jun 2020
To a Daughter More Precious than Gems
by Otomo no Sakanoue no Iratsume (c. 700-750)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Heaven's cold dew has fallen
and thus another season arrives.
Oh, my child living so far away,
do you pine for me as I do for you?

I have trusted my jewel to the gem-guard;
now there's nothing to do, my pillow,
but for the two of us to sleep together!

I cherished you, my darling,
as the Sea God his treasury's pearls.
But you are pledged to your husband
(such is the way of the world)
and torn from me like a blossom.

I left you for faraway Koshi;
since then your lovely eyebrows
curving like distant waves
ever linger in my eyes.

My heart is as unsteady as a rocking boat;
besieged by such longing I weaken with age
and come close to breaking.

If I could have prophesied such longing,
I would have stayed with you,
gazing on you constantly
as into a shining mirror.

I gaze out over the fields of Tadaka
seeing the cranes that cry there incessantly:
such is my longing for you.

Oh my child,
who loved me so helplessly
like bird hovering over shallow river rapids!

Dear child, my daughter, who stood
sadly pensive by the gate,
even though I was leaving for a friendly estate,
I think of you day and night
and my body has become thin,
my sleeves tear-stained with weeping.

If I must long for you so wretchedly,
how can I remain these many months
here at this dismal old farm?

Because you ache for me so intently,
your sad thoughts all confused
like the disheveled tangles of your morning hair,
I see you, dear child, in my dreams.

Otomo no Sakanoue no Iratsume (c. 700-750) was an important ancient Japanese poet. She had 79 poems in Manyoshu ("Collection of Ten Thousand Leaves"), the first major anthology of classical Japanese poetry, mostly waka. The compiler of the anthology was Otomo no Yakamochi (c. 718-785). Otomo no Sakanoue no Iratsume was his aunt, tutor and poetic mentor. In the first stanza, Lady Otomo has left her children in Nara, possibly to visit her brother. In the second stanza, it is believed that the jewel is Lady Otomo's daughter and that she has been trusted to the care of her husband. As for the closing stanza, according to the notes of the Manyoshu, it was popularly believed that a person would appear in the dreams of the one for whom he/she yearned. Keywords/Tags: Otomo, Sakanoue, Iratsume, Japanese, translation, mother, daughter, precious, gems, gem, jewels, jewel, pearls, pearl, Koshi, Tadaka
Hrithik Hiran May 2020
Walking through the forest route
I use to pick up stones, pointy as well as smooth
Stacked them in an infinte jar of memories
With every stone, sharing stories

My precious were of different colours
But it all looked the same to others
For my dreams, the jar was a shrine
Every stone was a memory my heart coudnt confine

Throughout my everyday walk
I searched for that special rock
Pearl, ruby, topaz or emerald
But the one not meant to be hurled

Little did I know about moments passing by
It's after everything when gone, we cry
Images flashing and nostalgia striking
Stones from my jar began smiling

Every stone was a special one
Reminding memories of someone
Childhood, youth ,adulthood
My jar contained everything it could

Life is a regret of letting go of some stones
Tinier than the memory it owns
All I need is a pool of such stones to dive
To bring my dead forgotten dreams alive
Reappak May 2020
~~~together you fight, together you succeed
                        Leaving memories behind, you perform risky deeds
A humble message for poets,


If you are viewing my post,
Please do react on it, so that they can reach to all the poets,  fighting on front lines! They are a gem!

Please consider it as a to-do

$tay home, $tay $afe
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Les Bijoux (“The Jewels”)
by Charles Baudelaire
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My lover **** and knowing my heart's whims
Wore nothing more than a few bright-flashing gems;
Her art was saving men despite their sins—
She ruled like harem girls crowned with diadems!

She danced for me with a gay but mocking air,
My world of stone and metal sparking bright;
I discovered in her the rapture of everything fair—
Nay, an excess of joy where the spirit and flesh unite!

Naked she lay and offered herself to me,
Parting her legs and smiling receptively,
As gentle and yet profound as the rising sea—
Till her surging tide encountered my cliff, abruptly.

A tigress tamed, her eyes met mine, intent ...
Intent on lust, content to purr and please!
Her breath, both languid and lascivious, lent
An odd charm to her metamorphoses.

Her limbs, her *****, her abdomen, her thighs,
Oiled alabaster, sinuous as a swan,
Writhed pale before my calm clairvoyant eyes;
Like clustered grapes her ******* and belly shone.

Skilled in more spells than evil imps can muster,
To break the peace which had possessed my heart,
She flashed her crystal rocks’ hypnotic luster
Till my quietude was shattered, blown apart.

Her waist awrithe, her ******* enormously
Out-******, and yet ... and yet, somehow, still coy ...
As if stout haunches of Antiope
Had been grafted to a boy ...

The room grew dark, the lamp had flickered out,
Till firelight, alone, lit each glowing stud;
Each time the fire sighed, as if in doubt,
It steeped her pale, rouged flesh in pools of blood.

Keywords/Tags: Baudelaire, translation, French, jewels, gems, lover, ****, stone, metal, spirit, flesh, body, naked, ****, legs, cleft, groin, tigress, animal passion, lust, *****, thighs, hips, *******, belly, blood
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