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Hrithik Hiran May 22
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 20
~~~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
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
mikah Feb 8
laughter embroidered in gold,
smiles embossed in bronze,
tears dripping with diamonds and
amber eyes in emerald faces that see a glittering world;

a gentle silvery touch of hands,
glassy fumbling fingers,
ruby cheeks and marble hearts and
amber glistening in sunlight and darkness;

glittering light on a glass finger,
clasping hands in a burst of silver,
gold and bronze and diamonds all around and
running off into a slippery citrine sunset;

a final touch of silver,,,
tying the knot on golden thread,,
bronze glinting through diamond droplets, and
emerald bodies returned to the waiting earth.

but amber immortalizes every golden thread,
every glint of bronze, every diamond,
everything that has been, everything that will be-
every single piece of the human experience.
precious, valuable, unique. am i describing the human experience or gemstones?
Daan Feb 3
Love is scary,
not like betting,
a lot less dreary
and in a nicer setting.

It still is frightening
because of chance,
to lose this enlightening
essence called romance.

Once you have it,
you won't need more,
just can't go without it,
you know you're hooked right to the very core.

It can be polished, hidden, in frames and cuts
and boxes with lots of shining glimmer,
seemingly untouchable.
A simple cold could make it all grow dimmer,
simmering through the stems,
the second you lose these nuts,
your uncut gems.
You shouldn't gamble with the things you love.
Lore and Legend Oct 2019
They say the most beautiful gems are the hardest to grow:
They are rare, precious, and unique
Their journeys are long, hard, painful and slow
But their beauty is of greatest value

They begin as any other rock, average and ugly:
Rough, pointed, and unrefined
Then circumstances pressure them, hold them snugly
'til in the heated heart of earth they are purified

Once formed, they must surface, they must be found:
Rooted, probed, and undermined
Rugged rocks from the cold underground
Are saved from the dark to be seen in the light

The sparkle is there, but still under the surface:
Remote, perdu, and unknown
Cut and ground to reach their true purpose
The glittering gems are at last revealed

When I look at this process, I see my own story
Fallen, broken, and remade
First dying inside, then raised up to glory...
You see my little gem beginning to show
Strive to love the unlovable...because they may be diamonds in the rough.
Toxic yeti Mar 2019
Gems and jewels
Healing they
Are
I never knew
I just saw the sparkle
Glitter
And pretty colours
Who the hell knew.
Each facet, a surface so resplendent,
Till ground away with endless polishing
To find innate sparkle magnificent,
O’er timeless glow that we’ve been cherishing.

O the eons spent on its perfection,
Dulled easily without the jeweler’s lens.
What gain had from chiseled vivisection?
To scratch the surface with corrosive cleanse?

What value is in diamond edges smooth,
Where lines mark surfaces with precision?
Is natural shine too luminous to soothe,
So we treat works of time with derision?

Hardened we underestimate its glow,
Its care requires the finest instrument.
The process used to make it shine was slow,
But dulls with the pressure of improvement.
Instagram @insightshurt
Blogging at www.insightshurt.com
Buy “Insights Hurt: Bringing Healing Thoughts To Life” at store.bookbaby.com/book/insights-hurt
Sally A Bayan Dec 2018
It had been days and nights of rain,
sun shone this morning, and gave
sparkle and luster to tiny drops
on leaves of the Norfolk pine.
shafts of rays revealed
crystals and diamonds
upon layers of green.
what lovely gems,
the sun creates.

Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
December 31, 2018
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