#lagoon
in lagoon the lotus ruffles her wind.
in monotone the lizard shrills his song.
the wild goose homing,
slumbered rushes oozing.
hushed lie the sedges
of beamed nuvole, vapors creep
late cranes, heavy wing, and lazy flight.
Sail the silence beneath the nearing night.
Sep 26, 2025
Sep 26, 2025 at 11:30 AM UTC
Up so high,
with a
BEAUTIFUL GLOW,
Casting down your
MOONBEAMS
right down below.
I stare into the MOON 🌕,
as I am TRANSFIXED,
It SHINES DOWN LOW,
the MOONLIGHTS RAVISHING
GLOW,
It FEELS so MAGICAL,
I cannot help but to GLANCE,
at the MOON 🌕, over the LAGOON,
while I am in a DEEP TRANCE.
It is such a COOL, CRISP, and
MAGNIFICENT NIGHT,
as I VIEW, and ADMIRE,
THE CAPTIVATING
MOONLIGHT!!!
B.R.
Date: 07/14/2023
Sep 20, 2024
Sep 20, 2024 at 5:33 PM UTC
A mellow nose
Gorgeous as the moon
Mirrored in the lagoon
Your skin is tender
Your uniqueness is beauty
Of previously not seeing your splendor
Your smile makes me guilty
Love is your center
Kindness, your vitality
Light in the dark, a magic mender
Goddess of purity
White rose
A perfume dose
Peaceful as the moon
Mirrored in the lagoon
Your scent is the trip
And Paradise is my fate
If constantly smelling your friendship
Becomes an open gate
I will be your grip
For when you are desperate
Just accept the bee that wants your lips
To pollinate your fate
White rose
Striking a Pose
Shiny as the moon
Mirrored in the lagoon
Jan 14, 2021
Jan 14, 2021 at 7:57 AM UTC
I sailed on a catamaran, and let the wind guide it
I didn’t push against the current but let destiny choose it
I let it choose its people, I let it choose its place
I let it choose its timing, I let it choose its race
First thing I know, we jump off the boat
We swim under sun set and let our bodies float
We put clay on our faces, now looking all white
We laugh about it and talk for a while
The sun is down, so we start heading back
All the sudden, thousands of stars are out
We jump off again, time goes in slow-mo
Water to the hips, I was given a mango
A mango so tender and sweet
It almost swept me off my feet
While sharing laughter and lifelong conversations
These travellers became my constellations
I sailed on a catamaran, and let the wind guide it
It left me with amazing friends and joy wrapped around it
This excruciating happiness was like an oracle
And little did I know, it was my mango miracle
Jan 8, 2021
Jan 8, 2021 at 10:52 AM UTC
Turquoise waters cradled by an unknown guardian filled itself with the emerald rainwaters...
By the day, it appeared as an ever expanding expanse of a jewel encrusted crown that belonged to no queen...
But at night,the very same radiated conspiracy with its violet aura and indigo rocks that wove a sinister garment about it...
Reflecting the mysterious heavens in the mirror of its being...
But inspite of the risks...my heart often went drowning into the fathomless bottoms to glimpse the unseen glitters... by the day...
And at night, the heart often chased the dreams dancing an unheard melody in a boat...over the lagoon full of stars...!
Aug 3, 2020
Aug 3, 2020 at 9:30 AM UTC
a ring
of chestnuts
aflame and
much hotter
here than
Clive is
to toast
eh blue
as shearling
laid Cumberland
newt with
proclivity as
his legacy
for hire
is too
tired for
the Pennines
Oct 4, 2019
Oct 4, 2019 at 7:58 AM UTC
Like a travelling sales man
And a toothless dragon
His back has tasted hell
With constant frantic passion
In making like a captain
And unfold you into silence
Time and risk caught face to face
In icy tales of violence
Garden of the tempted rose
Ghost hunting for salvation
In the form of the underworld
Turned its gaze into creation
White scars around him wander
Fingers scratching at the moon
Sing the song of untold stories
Creature from the black lagoon
Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 4:36 PM UTC
I'd bring
with my
spoon a
cherry whether
a shubunkin
in the
lagoon but
with a
knife would
bait my
hook if
fished such
lure with
the moon
till darkness
fell on
entry there
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 7:02 AM UTC
Red, yellow, green…
They’re all I see
Flying backward in time
Into dimensions of warm autumn colors
Heads spinning
Dizzy dreams weaving together
Like our hands
Intertwining
Red, yellow, green…
All of them pull me back
Back to that moment
Under the stars,
Breathing symphonies
Of crisp air
Lungs tired and feet sore
The stars shining in your eyes like sparklers
Red, yellow, green…
The crunch of the leaves as we run
Run to fly again
Above the heads of people
I could never love like you
Sleeping like the butterflies
Softly lulling us into submission
Red, yellow, green
The color of the leaves
But also
The colors of our voyeuristic lips as the day went on
The colors of the golden lights that lit the way home
The color of your army jacket wrapped around me
The colors of fall
That day in October
Where you and I were more than ourselves.
We were heroes.
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 9:35 PM UTC
A little boy taken to soon
As he played near the water at the edge of the lagoon
Standing with his father and having a good time
His father didn't think it would be the last time
The last time to see his sons face light up
And see the happiness of his son growing up
In a split second all had changed
His son was taken right in front of his eyes
The life of a child was taken to soon
As he and his dad played for the last time at the edge of the lagoon
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 10:56 AM UTC
I’m not all sunshine and rainbows.
Just like bananas never stay yellow;
I decay every day when really I should stay
happy for you, right?
I’m the sunlight on a dismal day,
the seagull’s song in the tropic heat.
My boyish grin makes your flowers bloom,
and my ears soak up your sadness.
I wait for release, like a loaded sponge
I leak and I seep and I ooze and I bleed.
I fill to the brim, I splash and I spill,
But my mess is never attended.
On the inside I am a blue lagoon,
truer and deeper than my yellow façade.
Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 4:20 PM UTC
Venice was a place for sudden ******
a stiletto plunged in velvet
vengeance tied in a knot of silk
piracy on any dark canal
robbery under quiet bridges.
Water laps the crumbling walls
salt hunger creeps up
seeps between stones
worms its way through cedar
settles in the sagging shelves
where old books bound in leather
edged in gold, embossed with crests
are best left well alone.
In these libraries of the lagoon
chapters and paragraphs
sentences and phrases fragment
nouns lay down with their verbs
creating images from metaphors
startling and sublime, but hidden
kept in these word-chambers
they slide away in time.
Each passing month, each day
restless and uneasy
festering in this state of decay
Venice is still
the place of death.
© M.L.Emmett
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 8:09 AM UTC
I catch the rapido train from Milano and edge slowly westward through the stops and starts of frozen points and village stations. The heating fails and an offer of warmer seats in another compartment. I decide to stay here. I put on my coat, scarf, hat and gloves and sit alone. In my grieving time, I feel closer to the cold world outside as it moves past me, intermittently. Falling snow in window-framed landscapes.
Sky gun metal grey
shot through
with sunset ribbons.
Dusk eases into black-cornered night. After Maghera, the train seems to race to the sea. It rumbles onto the Ponte della Ferrovia, stretching out across the Laguna Veneta. Suddenly, a jonquil circle moon pulls the winter clouds back and shines a lemony silver torch across the inky waters. Crazed and cracked sheets of ice lie across the depthless lagoon. The train slows again and slides into Santa Lucia. I walk into the night.
Bleak midwinter
sea-iced night wind
bites bitter.
No. 2 Diretto winding down the Canal Grande. The foggy night muffles the guttural throb of the engine and turns mundane sounds into mysteries. Through the window of the vaporetto stop, the lights of Piazza San Marco are an empty auditorium of an opera house. Walking to Corte Barozzi, I hear the doleful tolling of midnight bells; the slapping of water and the chink-chink of the gondolas’ mooring chains. Faraway a busker sings Orfeo lamenting his lost Eurydice, left in Hades.
I wake to La Serenissima, bejewelled.
Weak winter sunshine
Istrian stone walls
flushed rosy.
Rooftops glowing. Sun streaming golden between the neck and wings of the masted Lion. Mist has lifted, the sky cloudless; I look across the sparkling Guidecca canal and beyond to the shimmering horizon.
Molten mud
bittersweetness demi-tasse
Florian’s hot chocolate
I walk the maze of streets, squares and bridges; passing marble well-heads and fountains, places of assignation. I walk on stones sculpted by hands, feet and the breath of the sea. Secrets and melancholy are cast in these stones.
At Fondamente Nuove, I take Vaporetto no.41 to Cimitero. We chug across the laguna, arriving at the western wall of San Michele. I thread through the dead, along pathways and between gravestones. At the furthest end of the Cemetery island, Vera and Igor Stravinsky lie in parallel graves like two single beds in an hotel room. Names at the head, a simple cross at the foot of the white stone slab. Nearby, his flamboyant mentor Serge Diaghalev. His grave, a gothic birdbath for ravens, has a Russian inscription; straggly pink carnations, a red votive candle and a pair of ragged ballet shoes with flounces of black and aquamarine tulle tied to their the ribbons. So many dead in mausoleums; demure plots; curious walled filing cabinets, marble drawer ossuaries.
Bare, whispering Poplars
swaying swirling shadows
graves rest beneath
I walk to the other end of the island and frame Venezia in the central arch of the Byzantine gateway. I see that sketchy horizontal strip of rusty brick, with strong verticals of campaniles and domes. It is here, before 4 o’clock closing time, I throw your ashes to the sea and run to catch the last boat.
Beacon light orange
glittering ripples
on the dove grey lagoon.
© M.L.Emmett
First published in New Poets 14: Snatching Time, 2007, Wakefield Press, Kent Town SA.
To view with Images: Poems for Poodles https://magicpoet01.wordpress.com
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 9:25 AM UTC
All of the concerns, concerning you
Drift away when floating on a Blue Lagoon
The sun illuminates the clouds as natures lamp shade,
The horizon reflects itself over an unbounded axis.
There exists something within ignorance,
Forgetting if the sun is setting, or rising
Finally understanding that the charade may prove something surprising
When you realize the ripples will never be arriving.
Too often we look toward the future.
The future seems like a stranger, one that remains too far.
When time doesn't get the slightest glance,
For us to realize where we are...
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC