#petrarchan
Sugar Seventeen. Days that are so bright.
Life of rose, in sweet river, tasting like beet.
******* better than adult's freedom; Pain, so sweet.
Free from hustle and bustle, time of light.
But your light is for a while, then fade like night.
You are just a sweet dream. We wake to meet
With the truth, after we've had your moment so sweet.
You fade as time rides close on his bike with might.
Since you are a dream, Let us not be loser,
Like those who cry, "Had I known?"
Let's have good time as soon as possible.
Forget the morrow, jolly, 'cause time's bike draws closer.
With my pen and note, I will note my sweet moment now.
That on the morrow, my youth will be memorable.
Sep 13, 2025
Sep 13, 2025 at 7:32 AM UTC
I'm a star and I'm alone
Waiting for Neptune to dream;
Plan and write it in scheme
I started small but I have since grown,
Yet the night sky still seems baron
An old lonely sun, I stand misunderstood
I wish there was a way in which I could;
Draw your face as a constellation
Let your fathomless eyes;
With sanguine perception
Illuminate my cold and rusty heart,
Light up the dark and deserted skies
Forgive all this star has done,
And lay at my feet a chance to rechart
May 25, 2022
May 25, 2022 at 10:05 AM UTC
Half asleep feet shuffle in aimlessly;
Water fills the celestial coffeepot.
Chocolate brown grounds by a spoon are allot.
A spoonful spills to the floor! This marks its tragedy.
Another, another, so painfully,
This tragedy would make any distraught.
How can sleep be torn from eyes so bloodshot
Without the black elixir so holy?
The sleepy feet walk through the garage door,
Each brooms' handle is long like cold harpoons.
It sweeps up the wasted dreams on the floor.
"I measured out my life in coffee spoons."1
The tedious toil begins once more,
And so go the morning coffee mistunes.
1 - From "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S. Eliot
Apr 28, 2021
Apr 28, 2021 at 2:46 PM UTC
I brought her to the water by the moon,
To share with her, the shade beside the sea,
I gave to her my eyes, that she might see,
and sang to her the most afflicted tune.
I prayed of her what she might ever do,
When faced with all the mightiest would fear,
She whispered, through a solitary tear,
A crystal verse to stay her last adieu.
_When fires of gold have shed their morning light,
When embers fade and only ash remains,
When enemies of old are at the gates,
Do not embrace the darkness of that night,
Or think upon those ashes with disdain,
For all that might remain will share our fate._
Oct 23, 2020
Oct 23, 2020 at 11:57 PM UTC
If thou perchance hast longed for my embrace;
thou felt its spectre linger on thy skin,
thou must unearth a paradise wherein
abundant is the fruit that thou shall taste.
Its sweetness and perfume will thus invade
thyself, who art perplexed by strident din,
(which one mistakes to be the medicine)
and shall be cured of solitude's malaise.
And thou may wonder where doth one procure
this nectar so sublime that guarantees
escaping from the claws of loneliness?
In silence, these empyreal orchards endure
the perturbations of the fleeting years,
and in the fruits they bear - thither I rest.
Mar 31, 2020
Mar 31, 2020 at 2:58 PM UTC
Some people say that poetry has died.
No point to put on paper poesy bold,
No longer needing sonnets - rhymes of old
Which one inside can softer feelings hide.
To Netflix, Insta, Amazon they run
And dull their brains with shows of Island’s Love.
No thoughts of flowers, nightingales or doves;
Minds choked with wealth and *** and hate, and guns.
But never they’ve seen your smile in morning’s light
And wished to catch it – tangled, held in rhyme.
They’ve never placed their head upon your lap
And felt the need to jar the safe delight
Of looking into eyes so warm, sublime,
And thought of methods, forms: eternal traps.
Feb 14, 2020
Feb 14, 2020 at 5:23 AM UTC
Desde un rascacielo miro
fijamente las luces brillantes
pero soy ciego, un infante
aparte del mundo de abajo
Desde las montañas, y sus picos
vientos suenan al horizonte
tocando el sol invariante
estar sólo, tan magnificado
Pero todo lo que ve no es nada
¿Qué es esta luz del cielo?
¡Un resol! El sol es tu sonrisa,
¿O la música de la tierra?
Las aves solo cantan ruido
Solo quiero oír tu risa
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 7:44 PM UTC
When we first met I told you just how beautiful you were.
Like the pale lavender sky rewarding me for getting up.
Like a diner in the distance drinking each distasteful cup.
You blinked twice and told me that you weren’t so sure.
Your disarray was perfect, repulsive with allure.
You were fighting through the crowd like a nectar drop through moths.
Everything was terrible, your good was just enough.
And I loved every little quirk that others just endured.
On the day you broke the glamour I was lying in my bed.
You were sending me letters saying all the things that I have done
The sudden rush of inputs started streaming through my head.
My world was dark already, with you as the sun.
And as the sun did set that evening, sinking down like lead,
the brightness of my colors dulled with everything I've done.
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 5:22 PM UTC
The first draft is always hard.
The hardest, if I were to be honest.
When writing, you don’t want to hold back the best
No, not even a shard
Don’t let your story be scarred
Or be darkened like onyx
If you write freely, you’ll be astonished.
But don’t let your idea be charred.
If you don’t want to spend the time
Because you don’t think you have talent
And because you don’t like rhymes
Or want to have a popular valent
To keep your writing in its prime
You must share and be gallant
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 11:50 AM UTC
The bitter sting of winter's singing howl
Drives me to seek some deep and darkling place
Far from the blizzard's scorn, the wind's embrace,
Far from the beasts who bear its brunt to prowl
In search of prey. I'll clutch close to my cowl
And cloak, beneath which hides a younger face
Than most foresee. The forecast yields no trace
Of hope for safety 'pon the road. No foul,
My fellow traveler, don't fear from me.
I'll lay my knife down well before we meet,
Before we each choke down a share of ***
Or what would pass to warm camaraderie;
I know not where I've passed, to where I've come;
I simply beg a place to warm my feet.
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 8:47 AM UTC
Another dram of "philosophic wine."
For all the tumbler saps my fingers' heat,
Its glass holds little, now. Let me entreat:
I'll recollect the tremble down my spine
And spin my little web with every line
To catch your gaze, to bid you take a seat,
To bide my time until the next we meet,
When next we close, we kiss, we intertwine -
I fear it so. I fear I'll be transfixed,
All stunned and muted, stricken by your touch,
Or worse, the web won't draw a moment's gaze.
It must be offered, though it isn't much -
All love and lusts, desires intermixed -
On this, of all the ****** romantic days.
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 8:27 AM UTC
This serves as a nothing but I tell you,
Never in the existence of a life,
You'll see that words are not a useless lie,
It takes a lot of time to make this new,
But I guess you will watch these lovely hues,
For her future to be, as of for use,
No one will never discover her kind,
I am pretty sure that she stands a right,
I wish I could turn back from the time,
Where there's a madness within all the fears,
I should let this all come to rest and ripe,
Is the fruit when my heart is pure, my dears,
You told me one time, "Please just hold on tight,"
Please just let my voice be your guide, and hear.
Apr 27, 2017
Apr 27, 2017 at 7:45 AM UTC
In summer gath’ring they invoked the sky
Just throw of stones from where I sit, so bold
On pain of death, they risked both names and gold,
By pen for chance of freedom staked their lives;
Once bought with blood they’d plant some autumns nigh
A tree whose branches ever since could hold
Against the force of storms, growing so old
Though none can say now if its roots have died;
As children huddled ‘neath its shade cry out
Some grasp an ax, ready to strike, upend
Afraid these leaves once-green no longer breathe
While up on eager feet they march and shout
Unsure what perils may on them descend
Many yet hope to climb and still believe
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 7:48 PM UTC
We pilfer light here in these cold far rooms
Fast stolen to our beds and darkened fears
Unbowed and casting evil eyes and stares
On any soul who dares to dream of home;
Alight in shadows, tricksters view false thrones
While basking in the glow of claps and sneers
Amid the stench of truth long dead from spears
Like lies inflicted hard on hearts and bones;
Still, somewhere reason now ignites the mind,
It calms the righteous anger of our tears
To carry feet on paths that passions hide;
So long as we defend the joy of days
Hope cannot wane nor freedom ever fade.
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 2:46 AM UTC
Forgive the sins of those we would condemn?
Apologise and send them on their way
And in the aftermath of our dismay
Seek not for retribution on these men?
Cast down our stones, cast off our thoughts of when
They stained the walls in vengeance on a day
Now fast enshrined in minds of those who pray,
Pretend the world is just as it was then
Before these wretched shadows had the ken
To shatter glass and unmold living clay,
Think not of how their evil to repay
But offer them a prayer and say "Amen"?
Dear lord, our strength of will is plainly weak
For we can't simply turn the other cheek.
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 9:10 AM UTC
Oh father dear, petrarchan patriarch,
Thy gifted words of thy divinity
Portray the depth of thine own trinity,
And blessed are we who know thy craftsman's mark
And Blessed Are Thee, Thy Daughter Marian,
Who Walks In Beauty Like The Bright Sunlight
Where Flowers Grow And Faeries Do Delight
To Dance In Summer Glade and Autumn Glen
And Hilda, blessed are thee and all that's thine,
The gloom of shadowed valley thou has known
Yet love and life shall ever be thine own,
Oh blessed are thee and all thou holds divine
For thee, thy Hilda and thy Marian,
My blessings always and anon,
Amen.
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 5:53 PM UTC
We are to come and leave and not return,
But hand our secret scroll to those who'd be.
I'll pass the writings on which passed to me,
And shrink to blackened ash with flameless burn.
As far as those who'll be--of whom will earn,
That secret scroll containing some of me,
Quite like yet quite unlike, in no way me--
They'll mourn for I'll have gone and won't return.
To live on in a heart or memory,
Is not living or life or anything,
But trite consoling words of sympathy--
A metaphor or best a simile--
suspending truth, and grief that loss will bring.
In truth no more am I nor shall I be.
(C)2015, Christos Rigakos
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 12:25 AM UTC
There's an age old undying question that
Bides my blood stained wrists nailed here on thine earth,
That keeps my toes digging into the soft
Soil; into which we bury our dead, yet
Stand upon by which we mock the living,
And so that question stands as a viewer
Would you jump off a bridge if all your friends
Were doing it? As all our mothers asked,
Though what stuck about you, if I were to
Jump, what stops you from jumping after me?
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 7:10 PM UTC
A lonely man,
alone he stands,
crying deep into his hands,
his life shelled in a can,
seeing life, and so he ran,
tears separating into strands,
his name never spoken of over the lands,
he is a lonely man.
His life is boring and awful too,
his joy short and brief like a word,
he hopes to meet something one day,
but he already knows he will rue,
the day he isn’t socially absurd,
so now he lives in dismay.
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 7:49 PM UTC
Labor of love is not labor I thought
And so I climbed the rungs with ideals high
Off’ring myself as like a lamb resigned
To noble fate all shorn and naked brought
But I can’t as a martyr play this lot
Once it’s been seen as futile and decried
There is but nothing left, an empty hide
Where once a mighty steed stood here and fought
And yet a hope persists marking the war
To set out fresh and force the battle turn
New starts await where there are brighter aims
That don’t require such blood and sweat be poured
Perhaps one day again the heart will yearn
For a reward beyond these lonely games
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 1:41 AM UTC
When all around are swords I cannot weep
Some Latin junk rebounds within my skull
Azure in day so bright until night falls
A slice of sky descends into the deep
And for what faith is left that humans keep?
Mercy divine cannot these questions lull
One stroke of blood henceforth sharp wits are dulled
Through knives alone no peace can e’er we reap
Still we must travel on without the light
And solace find with those ***** just as blind
Murders of crows may flock around us too
The wind from them lifting us up to flight
Between the ground and air we’ll move quite fine
We drop the weight of texts; I soar with you
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 3:28 AM UTC