#olive
happenstance can be engineered-
a planned encounter
- put in motion by the hand of the Divine.
May 9
May 9, 2026 at 4:03 AM UTC
The day felt warm,
The skies were bright,
The air filled with peace,
As if the world rehearsed,
To honour your sunniest day.
Donning a pristine white gown,
Sublime, shining heels,
A lovely pearl necklace,
Your cute oyster bracelet,
And that glimmering smile,
Radiating love and joy,
You shone like a graceful dove
Proudly styling her feathers.
I sat quietly in the shade,
Waiting below an old olive tree,
Eyeing the church, mindlessly,
Lulled by the chirps
Of the little olive enjoyers.
Suddenly,
The temple resonated,
Its bells spilling over,
Scaring the pretty perched doves,
As I watched them take flight,
Storming the sky, flying away,
Carrying my heart.
Now lighter, I stood up,
Took a deep breath,
And headed to the festive mass.
Family and friends gathered
Dancing, cheering all around you.
I slowly made my way forward,
Through the dense crowd, until
My eyes locked with your dreaming gaze.
I congratulated you in a light hug,
Wished love, happiness upon you,
And could not resist asking:
How does it feel for Mariposita?
To which your sweet lips whispered,
That peaceful melody,
"Folkloric"
With a heart beaming warmth.
I grinned back at you,
Swam in those precious ojitos,
One last time,
And crawled back
To darker skies,
As love echoed
From afar.
Feb 13
Feb 13, 2026 at 6:59 AM UTC
Let's lose our minds amongst the olive trees
Labyrinth of oiled imagination
Twirl like falling leaves / falling to our knees
in unbalanced joy and veneration
of ourselves. For there is nobody else
but us; there is no other time but now,
Red flowers bloom. A blue shadow propels
a still landscape into being somehow
fluid. Timelessly we swim, wet within
each brush stroke branch and painted wave of wild
emancipation—to forget the din
of the wretched asylum. Vincent smiled:
Dive too deep and you shall go insane,
The olive grove remains the other side of the pane.
Oct 16, 2020
Oct 16, 2020 at 9:04 AM UTC
When you sit swinging at every blink of my eyes.
The dark circles under sing the setting moon lullabies.
Free shadows of spring sunlight, and whispers in the corridors.
” I wish to never be alone”, says the Gardener in his mother tongue.
He pulls up hope in a tin can pouring over new buds, his whistles add sweetness to my ears.
that Mynah that sits under the banyan tree, sits on it today.
And sparrows picking at raw berries, flutter as I near them.
Wet grass pins at my feet, random flowers that mysteriously grew; falling from the paradise.
Here’s to my very own forest of life & death.
For I have failed many friends, those which never came back.
Though I waited, and I wait.
The woman in my house, with rags for clothes, dead faith that lives in the cracks of her lips.
And when she walks, her bunch of keys rattle her bottle of liquor she considers hidden. Her hands that pet rotis and light stoves, escape destiny and destroy hope.
Olive shaded walls of my home, frequently fall short of peace.
The ringing of bells from the latest exhibit, the tv making up for all those who were once before.
I raise the volume from 45 to 80,
All sorts of sacred prayers surround my very being.
I devour my pancakes and drain down coffee like religion itself.
shattered chandeliers bring me patterns of floating aspirations.
Sofa’s hold me any way I Can sit, while I forge some sleep, and fool my mind.
Rested i am not.
Empty i am.
My walls are so high, i only feel free at the top.
And sometimes think I’d like to fall.
when the waters from the shore mumble to me, “don’t fall for the charades.”
I stay put and cherish all the beauty.
At least, that’s what I think it is.
A passing wind slips from my hands, parting from every inch of my spine.
I plead, “take my heart with you.”
And so,
my heart beats in my rib cage,
But never at peace or in one place.
Sep 3, 2020
Sep 3, 2020 at 2:33 AM UTC
It's been four years
But the little goofball is still the same.
He is pampered and doesn't know how to fight
Instead I caught him yesterday running behind the butterfly
resting on his nose.
And then! rather than eating the grasshopper,
He tried to jump higher than it...and ended up into the wall!
His friends are strong like warriors but...
He is like the shepherd's boy grazing the sheep
His big black eyes say it all
And his shine is like no other.
Even though he doesn't like me much...
But there are nights when we sit together
counting stars with fireflies.
Aug 7, 2020
Aug 7, 2020 at 3:20 AM UTC
The olives are black and ripe.
Black beads scrutinise me, smiling
With a bitter aftertaste that I know I won’t like,
But my dad loves.
Four olives, then three, then two,
And little fingers reach out for the plucked fruit.
Yellowy syrup soaks into fluffy clouds of ciabatta
Like the warmth of the sun seeping into tiny cracks in the road;
I remember the story of Athena’s olive tree and
I think I should call her Minerva because I’m in Italy.
Two identities for the same person.
I find that strange.
Picking the thinly sliced fruit from my food,
I grimace at the pattern of black spots on my plate.
The two colours mix in my vision and I know
It is ugly.
The sea glimmers just beyond my reach and the
Filtered beams of sunlight make me yellow.
**** sharp flavours pinch my tongue.
Thin arms suffocated by pustules of inky blackness cover my vision;
My father stands beside me, taking photos,
Although I’m not sure what he’s commemorating.
I see a group of Korean tourists.
They don’t recognise me.
I spit out the sour bead.
Apr 2, 2020
Apr 2, 2020 at 4:53 AM UTC
Golden olive arab eyes
Gods only know that look belies
Raw emotions there residing
A force, to rival time or tide
Or maybe just a passing thought of passion from ago
Anadulterated love or hate
Her capacity for each, so great
Mercurial, maternal journal
Of passing days with eyes alit
On fire, in frenzy, champs at bit
Or maybe she'll just dance
Or sing a song, puff on her ****
Shes fine as **** in nets or thong
But classy, unlike wiry roughnecks
Trying to tag along
My goddess of the cradle,
She'll send me to my grave
From hair breaths,
A hairs breadth before I drown in satin
Her love shines through like bright white linen,
She lights me up
In prayers, in sinnin
Frantically, she gives her all
She spends herself
Heeds every call
For help they ask and ask and take
Dont tell her that love conquers all
She knows thats ****
And shes no doll of fragile porcelain,
She'll fall and bounce right back but better
Howd i ******* go and get her
To fall for me, cause im no catch
A schlub from that ol black gold patch
An angel, just like Lucifer
Was, upon a time
She sees in me what I can't see
And when those eyes are cast on me
I wither like the ashes of burnt paper
Or my life
I hope some day she'll let me (if i were her, i wouldnt, bet me)
Make my queen my love-ed wife
...
J Nc 12-31-19
Dec 31, 2019
Dec 31, 2019 at 8:13 AM UTC
You...
Are not easy to appease and quite unsweet
(Special to me)
You...
Are the red ball my mother said it is dangerous to play with
(A world unrevealed)
Yet, I'm drawn to your bitterness
It makes me feel canny.
There's nothing more I love than candy
I mean I would be dandy with an outstanding quantity
Somehow still unequal to the flavor of you
You...
Who pulls my tail and teases my senses
(Convince me my pain is not real)
You...
Are the personified insatiable
And complacency is dullified when you are on my mind
This is my inept attempt to explain
I want to drown in the aroma that is you
Lose my fingers in your skin
Awakening your phobias in hopes I'll forget, my own.
Smear my lips near your hips
And you'll remind me
I only want you because I am not supposed to
You...
Are the olive taste I can not replace
I want to spit you out like gum,
But it would be so futile to.
(For I love you)
Dec 22, 2019
Dec 22, 2019 at 7:21 PM UTC
Your mischievous gaze
your dark brown eyes, not as shiny as they should be
tell a very sad tale
straight from your heart
I offered you an
Olive branch...
Being with your broken
soul, whilst trying
to repair my own
was just hurting us more
Sep 28, 2019
Sep 28, 2019 at 5:46 AM UTC
Remember all those peaceful nights
in hazy candlelit glow,
expressing all of the rights;
factors you now pretend not to know.
Expressing great gratitude
at the partnership we had found,
it’s funny how your attitude
changes drastically when I’m not around.
“I need to be selfish right now”
you say it like it’s a new development,
and your mind is blank to how
I was alone in the room with an elephant.
I did everything you could need
without even a second thought,
gave my sweat, tears and would occasionally bleed,
and the one thing I asked for I never truly got.
We made a life together,
we dug a hole with two hands,
you promised me it was forever,
those were some very speedy time sands.
I sacrificed all I could for you
and still you obviously need more,
I don’t know what it is you plan to do,
I hope they discover whatever you’re looking for.
The only thing you can say to me
is that I could raise my voice,
avoiding the issues that were clearly frustrating,
ignoring the times I made another choice.
Never listening to a possible solution,
not taking one step in an alternate route,
just instead labelling me toxic pollution,
or a disadvantage like blindness or gout.
“I need to make a life for myself”
we both agreed on that for two years time,
but unlike you for me, I was there to help,
I thought of it as our life; not yours or mine.
I did everything you could need,
without even a second thought,
I was tending and watering the soil for the seed,
you were too occupied deciding on the ***
We made a life together,
planned a future for shared dreams,
and you’ve turned me to a worn in sweater,
that you picked apart the threads and seams.
I loved you more than anyone,
and put you above the sun in the sky,
and out of nowhere you claim you’re done,
abandoning me like a passerby.
You act like you don’t even care,
but six years is a very long time,
to suddenly decide your not there,
to pretend I’m not yours and you’re not mine.
And while your robbing me of sleep currently
I’m confident one day that you’ll lose yours,
‘cause as easy as it is to pretend the fault lies on me,
I was opening every window and always holding open your doors
Apr 11, 2019
Apr 11, 2019 at 9:40 PM UTC
You caught my eye but once,
You caught me eye but twice,
Then popped them in a cocktail glass,
And topped it up with ice.
Vermouth you added first,
And then a shot of gin,
A squeeze of lime, a dash of tea,
With salt around the rim.
‘One martini coming up!’ you drawled,
You slid it down the bar,
And so returned my eyes to me,
Like olives from a jar.
To those who swear that love is blind,
You've surely never been,
The subject of a stolen glance,
From a waitress called Nadine.
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 6:25 PM UTC
As I sat at the kitchen table,
I saw my daughter- in- law fry an egg,
She discarded the egg yolk,
She was about to put it in the bin,
I took it from her.
Next my son returned from the supermarket,
He had bought olive oil for his pretty wife,
She was a freak on olive oil,
I asked for two tablespoons,
"Mum, what are you up to."
I smiled sweetly.
I had the Vaseline,
I need to put it on my hands and soles,
Honey is in plenty at home.
I steamed the Vaseline till it melted,
Took it off the heat,
Added other ingredients,
Meshed the mixture to a smooth paste,
My face mask for removing wrinkles was ready,
It worked,
Thanks Pinterest.
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 6:50 AM UTC
Sittin' perched upon these trees
I'm an astronaut
In a valley where wings are free
takin' time to connect the dots
Smashing clocks who beckon me
the journey is the plot
MUST MORE ACRES BURN ?
I'm high
but I can't decide,
where the beginning meets the end
or if they coincide,
I'm alive,
but I'm on the fence,
I can't hide these scars
from barb wired "friends"
Let's
get alone
Let's set the controls for the heart of the sun
Let's
be free
Let's mimic the path of the birds and the bees
Let's
parade
Let's dance in the streets in our evening gowns
Let's
placate
Rid the world of our demons and all its hate.
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 9:08 PM UTC
My Olive Beef comes from my grief
Up my feet and into my teeth
In my stomach is where is lies,
Until it resides, is when I die.
Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 7:52 PM UTC
November first, all saints
Celebrated canonised or not.
Recognition left as beauty
In the eye of the beholder.
For sinners accomplishing
Something worthy of holiness,
Something worthy of humanity,
Its nature, the Universe.
Compassion, aidance, honesty.
Truthfulness, chastity intended
In its purest sense. November first,
Olive picking day for me.
Harvesting season's yield
After the longest drought as I feel,
The warmth of an obstinate sun
Pierce skin through bones
To my very core. The same,
Beams granting abundance
Of golden juice to the gently
Reaped pearls of black and green.
From fingertips runs
An inundating sense
Of blessing, intrinsic unity
Of substance shared.
Only anticipating taste,
Fluidity slithering on tongue,
An exquisite elixir caressing
Palate as globules fall like rain
From branches onto
Sheets meticulously laid.
An event unknowing solitude
For it demands collective efforts,
While the distant village band
Plays hymns to the dead I praise
The living and their worth,
Waiting to imagine hundred
Kilograms render seventeen
Precious litres of ******
Olive oil. Chastity unfolding
In its purest form.
Nov 4, 2017
Nov 4, 2017 at 9:28 AM UTC
In Seville
My lock is like a wheel
that treasures the land
with strands of sand now an inroad to soul
in times of grain this platitude of health ahead of tides
the salt on shore implores unfinished deeds
as art deplores any nurturing of needs
with stars out this race beyond the chariot again
and proves that this orient has rightly won a gathering if seed roaring in a stream of catchment nigh
where these overtones are songs
and round about the fields along the Guadalquivir.
Jul 6, 2017
Jul 6, 2017 at 10:24 AM UTC
Once when we were kids
Mum had fun throwing a dinner party.
I could tell because
there were stains on the tablecloth
but no one was crying,
and the food upgraded from sausage rolls to Sushi and Olives.
I want one-
-You can't, Mum said they're for adults-
I want a Olives-
said the back of my 4 year old sister as she went to try the
New Thing.
The Olive was carefully chosen and examined with 4 years of culinary expertise,
swirled around a gummy mouth and
promptly returned to its post.
It was yuck -
she informed me and her breathless twin from the safety of the veranda
after weaving her way through the adult legs strewn around the Good Lounge without even so much as a
'woe betide you child if you're in here again.'
So we sat and thought about parties and Good Lounges and woe betides
drinking juice,
and watched our Uncle fill his plate with sushi and olives,
singing tonelessly to ABBA
before spilling his beer on the floor .
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 9:09 PM UTC
Guthrie is a man made of garbage
His dreams they rot and leak
He has banana peel hair
Hes got old martini olive eyes
But did you see him before the light died
Years ago
Way back to a time when charm and wit flowed freely from his mouth
His tongue a silver spoon
His dealing hand like a golden talon
Tryna ***** the light out
His feet the vehicle taking him to paradise
He says "you only live once, better live the burning life."
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 12:48 PM UTC