#picturesque
^°
Sermon of the sun
petitions in a red cathedral
How blood thickens and thins
running through movies
waiting with vultures
at the roadside
A candy coated salvation
incongruous religious shapes
and colors indictative
of mountains that
once believed too
A bruise of blue
in the desert sky
glorious for a moment
Black horses of destruction
echo like Arcosanti bells
through a valley of death
°^
Apr 16
Apr 16, 2026 at 4:48 AM UTC
Double sky
Displacement
Subtle the sun
Into your reflection
Into your tempers
An endless flourish
Maybe you're infinite
Maybe the words are unsayable
Apr 8
Apr 8, 2026 at 4:05 AM UTC
it’s the lucent sky,
the blue-pink gradient
cotton candy strokes:
the ghosts of the skyscrapers
that once persisted; the
lonely sisters of the fields
in dawn—
it’s a sight you don’t ever
want to take your eyes off,
but it’s what consumes you,
so you will.
undoubtedly, you will;
just to never see it again.
Nov 14, 2025
Nov 14, 2025 at 3:13 PM UTC
Lucid
Crystalline
Sea in Cyan -
a rendezvous
with the
Vermillion sunrise
horizon.
Its Amber halo
fades into the
Opalescent
Azure sky
vaguely cast
in Magenta.
Alabaster white
froth, laps up
against the
Sandy shore in Fawn.
Beachy summer-
the vast Blue
Fluorescently mellow
Dawn.
Aug 16, 2021
Aug 16, 2021 at 4:07 PM UTC
A blue blanket crystalline
stretching out to infinity
glistens in the limelight
of the sun's affinity.
The horizon paints its' golden rays
upon the august rippling waves,
& feathered fiends all sail upwind
For the spectacle the sunset gave~~~
Apr 28, 2021
Apr 28, 2021 at 1:26 AM UTC
Your heart is as cold
as Alaska
your thoughts flow,
like river Nile.
Your mind is as lush
as the Amazon
& eyes reflect the soul
like the sea & the sky.
Yet, your heart is as cold
as Alaska.
But, when humanity seeps
into your frozen core
As if the Sun shone down
& scorched the ice
your heart would bloom
like the tulip fields
& the night, a coliseum
playing the Northern lights.
Apr 7, 2021
Apr 7, 2021 at 10:12 AM UTC
Till the vast end of the horizon
sparkling in the sun
waters churned with molten opals
& with sapphires it was spun
into a splendid blanket of blue
rippling to the empyrean's breath
in the most ethereal hue
a profound pool of depth.
Mar 30, 2021
Mar 30, 2021 at 2:51 AM UTC
Tickles of the straw fingers,
it will be alright they say.
Wave of the centre wind,
the saint’s at rest on the air’s kisses.
Join us they exclaim.
The scarlet macaw on her acclaimed throne,
art of ranking colours,
colours of a warrior’s triumph.
Rejoice in her name.
Rejoice!
Rejoice!
Bush deer content with the sound of emptiness,
the wolfs an ancient myth.
Bumbles bees retreating from the flowers,
along the yellow brick road.
The sky will never shed a tear
Today.
Tomorrow.
Next week.
Next month.
Next year.
In life.
Gabriel meadow. You are filled with my prospective destiny.
God bless you.
Justine Louisy
Copyright ©Justine Louisy 2016
All Rights Reserved
Jul 2, 2020
Jul 2, 2020 at 4:58 AM UTC
A picturesque moment
Forever frozen still
Beautifully perfect
Before all became ill
Apr 24, 2019
Apr 24, 2019 at 8:23 AM UTC
Open mouth singing
in your diamond shirt
embroidered with collectibles
of smiles and laughters
that you gathered that
day on the beach
Spellbound dreams
that you carry
in a silver faded necklace
carved with the initials
of all the constellations
you can point to
Wheatfield sun
dancing upon your
golden hair
of rainbow flowers too
you move the wind
and mother earth dances with
Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 5:37 AM UTC
Sprinkling crystals dipped in glass
ray of prisms breeze my eye
sunshine rhythms hide in grass
floating sugar on the pie
Neon lights pass to scroll
while purple midnight breathes
jacket goosebumps stockings stole
four-wheeled lion grumbly seethes
Honey nectar slumbers my eyes
whitewashed lace tangle my face
gentle buzzings of pastel sky
as cotton candy sank with grace
Open heart box standing in the rain
cries diamonds for to call her name
the poetry train caught riding to Spain
set carnival dewdrops on red flames
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 10:07 AM UTC
He ponders on how to make the decision
One to give him satisfaction and the other displeasure
His small hands cradle the calabash gently
Cautious of the fragility of its content
He's wondering how to explain his spoil
Excited beyond yet afraid within
Still wandering in the bushes treading lightly on dead leaves,
He hears the drums go off from the village square.
A thought jumps in, too tempting to ignore!
But he must reach his destination .
Forging ahead to gratification,
He's barely acknowledged and his secret unkown.
Walking through he's pushed aside and ignored!
He pays no mind, full of smiles.
If only they knew the content of the Calabash!!!
Valerie Gbinije
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 9:56 AM UTC
I ask where I am now
To the God I like
And who is in my heart
And in my miserable life
You know somethings changed us
Hitting from high
In the middle of night
My picturesque love
May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 8:34 PM UTC
Slow. Steady. Rhythmic.
The dull thud beats in time with the sway and cantor of the melody. Glide across the hall, dip down to the banister.
Beat. Beat. Beat.
Even and calm, lost in the frequency, wandering amidst the pitch. Fanciful footwork frames the floor with twisting steps and intricate detail.
Shrouded in fireflies and dandelion dust that drifts on the lazy current of the song, drowsing through notes and harmonies in a trance of ballroom dance.
Rise up.
Build into a waltz of throbbing desire. Whirl in the stars and flit past treetops. Even and clean, again and again and again.
Search the woods with craving eyes and fixate a longing gaze on the shadows of the mountains. The horizon will bleed into the treeline as melancholy keys and jubilant echos bring a cobalt stare reeling round and round the surface of the planet.
Press out each measure with deliberate punctuation.
Step hard, flit away, step firm, pull in, step true, twirl out, step in, dip low.
The march of feet in sync resonating through soul and mind: rhythm, measure, beat.
Soar.
Rush the pace into a frenzied tango. Alight a tender foot on the raindrops and fly into the moonlight as the throbbing repetition drives the dance onward.
Hear the wail of the drums in the atmosphere; they cry out in agony, ever increasing intensity. Pound out the steps over and over, numb to the world.
Bring the reckless mind crashing down upon the orchestra pit. Flood heart and soul with sheets of music dripping with pen strokes of madness and ingenuity.
Heaving, writhing, panting, burning, pounding, crashing, yearning heart be free.
You stop short, gasping for breath, ears peaked by a new sound. Another beat. You swipe the wild strands of hair from your eyes and find yourself a butterfly’s breath away from a brand new heartbeat. His sandpaper skin brushes your fingertips, chocolate eyes melting into your dance. You twirl out, he catches your milky wrist and dips you into his lullaby. Spinning in, two songs forge into one as pounding fades to throbbing. The voice of the lark rises in your throat, a jade sky splits the earth in two, and you fly away. Dancing to the rhythm of your heartbeats.
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 1:38 PM UTC
9 | 31 Poems for August 2017
When my blue skies have turned grey, I listen to that one Emeli Sandé song and reminisce about you every single day.
The moment you opened your eyes, I was right there by your side and my love for you comes as no surprise.
But I knew that someday my love wouldn’t be good enough for you and that somehow, you’d find a way to disappear.
I hope you’ve found a way to finally stop smoking cigarettes and drinking ***** like there’s a message in the bottle.
Love, I wish you’d be more open about your feelings because bottling everything in is detrimental.
I still write about you in hopes that one day you’ll read all these words and hopefully find your way back to me.
I still miss the sweet scent of your presence on the white duvet covers and cotton sheets of my memory.
Love is blind and that I already know, but I had never pictured writing these words without you.
Maybe you were right when you said that my love is as bad as my handwriting is – maybe I should’ve seen it coming.
Your aura always took me to peaceful picturesque places that I had only seen in my dreams.
I still want to hold your heart like the lonely autumn trees hold the fragility of clinging leaves.
But I knew that someday my love wouldn’t be good enough for you and that somehow, you’d find a way to disappear.
Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 11:33 AM UTC
Brightest beauty glistening on the wave
In that moment perfection crave
That picturesque scene forever save
Remembered now until distant grave
Calm, gentle, floating on the wave
For some it really seems so brave
To let go, be free of thoughts that pave
A path so dark you wish to stave
Sky's reflection gleaming on the wave
Bright, blue, clear, such hope it gave
And worried thoughts start to behave
Eyes free, no more accustomed to a cave
Peace, tranquility, dancing on the wave
And Oh how sweet the heart can rave
Once freed from shackles that enslave
Apr 11, 2017
Apr 11, 2017 at 4:17 PM UTC
Star Gazer:
How are you fellow poet?
I hope the burning sun is keeping you
Warm without knowing it
Through a thin veil of sky so blue.
Conor Blatchford:
A pure veil of blue
It is beautiful, white fluffy clouds
Keening wind and lapping waves
The most pure of calming sounds
Star Gazer:
Waves rush the rocks
Though the sun pierces the clouds
Crashing, smashing and rumbling
Till the mountains come crumbling.
Conor Blatchford:
Sun sets and darkness falls
The stars show themselves at night
Calm waves rippling
Reflecting that beautiful starlight
Star Gazer:
Though bright a light may be
The touch of a star is all but lost
When we ask of fun and glee
Amidst all the chaotic costs.
May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 3:33 AM UTC
The mouth may be
Sewn, out of words,
Sworn, to never speak.
But a pen and a bottle of ink
Can never disappoint
The unspoken things you think.
A soft, bristle brush of it
On the surface,
The marks it leaves,
Are so unworldly picturesque
It’s always hard to believe.
Feb 2, 2016
Feb 2, 2016 at 2:01 PM UTC
They made her a quaint painting,
well mannered,
she never spoke out of turn.
She granted herself a wish,
she only wanted to be picturesque
so
waning to the wayside of mannerisms
she gave herself 'wiggle room'
she was a sight
not worth seeing.
Cracked porcelain faces,
she saw herself in them.
It took time to find her way to shore
but when she did
and stood on her own two feet,
she was more vivid and brilliant
than any quaint little painting.
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 3:13 PM UTC
***The mountains raise their heads
To look up to the sky
Looking to kiss the eternity
Searching for the soft caress of clouds
And soothe the upheaval it went through
First drop of rains anoint the rugged surface
The sequestered waterfall cascades down
And adorns the mountainous terrains
Covering it with the soft velvety green
Enthusing life into the once lifeless rocks
Once among the rubble
The mountains have found their place of glory***
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 10:32 AM UTC
Pretty people are petty.
Isolated individuals
Are either
Insane
Intellectual
or both.
We're all marred up beyond recognition.
Perfection isn't an option,
Therefore neither is peace.
We're all floating down
A swirling stream
Filled with insecurity and scrutiny
Looking for something
Anything
More.
We're coming up empty-handed
left only with rays of the sun,
Billowing trees in the teasing wind
And hands that hold nothing but
Loneliness and apathy.
We're all insane.
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 10:35 AM UTC