#scenic
The Mirrors and the Reflections,
this fresh breeze and the sunlight,
these inanimate realities
and their oxymoronic existence
amazes inner child within me.
I am not a painter,
I am just a man
with a taste for colors.
I delve into them,
till the hues whisper words
that fly like butterflies.
I am not a lepidopterist(butterfly scientist)
I am just a man
with a thirst for writing.
I collect and nurture them,
till they look like a beautiful painting
made out of unseen words.
I am not a poet,
I am just a man,
with a love for beauty.
I just let the beauty flow,
like the never-ending seas
for purposes unknown.
Jul 13, 2024
Jul 13, 2024 at 3:27 AM UTC
Lulling to the cicadas screeching
nightly
Bulging dew drops shimmering
brightly
Tree limbs grasping moonlight
tightly
Fireflies flickering ever so
slightly
Fairies tickling flowers; so
sprightly
Centaurs galloping bare, but
knightly
It's true that I should admit
rightly
Nights at the grove are nothing but sightly
Sep 28, 2020
Sep 28, 2020 at 6:47 AM UTC
December 10th 2016..
She tears not in tears..
She woes in words..
She cries in colours..
She is neigh nature..
A scenic soul..
An oceanic oblivion..
A looming lotus..
A delightful darkness..
A ballerina of blues..
A revelation of fire reds..
A puzzle of purples..
And a quiet question.
Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 8:22 PM UTC
When I'm here
My eyes are full of scenic tears
And I tilt my head back to hold onto them
Because the beauty overwhelms me
Aug 26, 2019
Aug 26, 2019 at 6:49 PM UTC
I have been thinking about how fictional worlds thread with our realities,
how if you read a book,
watch a film,
see a play,
the subject matter and themes will unconsciously make their way into your daydreams,
I had been watching pride and prejudice,
thinking of Pemberley Estate,
the countryside,
how English hills can flood with hanging low mist,
overcast and soft,
mild, almost ethereal,
or how it may tear itself open,
on ripe summer days,
the ground verdant and full,
I see an image of us, by a lake,
perhaps an old-fashioned picnic basket,
cherries, peaches, strawberries, plums,
feeding each-other grapes,
we could dip our feet in the water,
laze and kiss and,
have all in the time in the world somehow.
I would have a book of poetry,
Sappho perhaps, Elizabeth Bishop, Emily Dickinson,
I could show you the ones I think you might like,
feed you a strawberry,
read you wild nights,
our hair and hands all tangled,
our words and thoughts entwined too,
and we forget all about the beautiful countryside, and the fruit, and the poetry,
for moments and moments.
Jul 6, 2019
Jul 6, 2019 at 7:14 AM UTC
Close your eyes and listen,
Smell the aroma in the air.
Roam where there is no WiFi,
Wander without a care.
Take the scenic route,
Get outside and explore.
Stroll through the woods,
And walk along the shore.
Dream with your eyes open,
Make the day all yours.
Do more than just exist,
Enjoy the great outdoors.
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 9:43 AM UTC
meadow
velvet green
flecked with color
amber sunshine
warming
wildflowers
violet, cream and rose
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 11:51 AM UTC
Your voice is the perfect song to listen to on a road trip.
To view all the things that remind me of you.
Miles away from the stress of work.
Your voice, the open road.
Someone I can love, no traffic jam in sight.
The goosebumps from the air on full blast.
To feel love when no love is felt.
A broken down car with someone to help when something is wrong.
The air tastes different, miles away from the city.
A euphoric high.
Your voice a beautiful path.
My phone thrown somewhere in the backseat traveling a scenic road I've never been.
No track of time.
The thing about disease is that you never know until its too late.
It spreads. Becoming infectious.
You've become my relief, my cure.
Your voice like the breeze flowing through my hand.
Your voice the only other sound that could be heard outside of the car and the road.
I've kissed the air a thousand times over.
Driving pass my destination.
Listening to the sound of your voice.
I don't want to move from behind the steering wheel.
What's a couple hundred more miles.
You guiding me pass every exit sign.
Enjoying the ride
Feb 13, 2018
Feb 13, 2018 at 2:22 AM UTC
We're all headed to the same destination.
Why not take the scenic route?
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 9:15 AM UTC
From her silent night haven
in the dark orange
ripping clouds,
she walks down
the flashing beach,
waist-deep in the water.
With a long looming gaze,
she chases the voices
from the rain
as I watch her still
silhouette
slowly fade away.
And when my blind eyes
will finally close
between every white urgent streak,
I'll see her smile rise
through the darkness & the dream.
©2016 Alex Bex - www.alexbex.net
Jun 30, 2016
Jun 30, 2016 at 1:14 PM UTC
Clouds and colors painted across the sky,
Evening is upon us in all of it's wondrous glory.
The golden hour; an artist's canvas.
Sunlight glows over the treetops,
Saying goodnight to the daytime; welcoming dusk.
A sliver of the moon; peaking out making it's presence known.
For in a few short hours the sky will harbor a new scene,
One where the moon becomes dominant over all.
Deep blue darkness with perfectly plotted stars burning millions of miles away.
I wonder to myself of all the star crossed lovers,
Who have looked upon the same night sky.
I feel lucky to have you by my side in this moment of beauty,
For true love shall never die.
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 9:02 PM UTC
A venom kiss seals your fate
Tears and twists with times weight
A new beginning calling your name
Seize that moment before it fades
As the years drift away
Wisdoms wisper fills your day
It calls to you in your dreams
A life of beauty inspiring and serene
But that too will fade away
Your born to live alone one day
Counting down until time calls
Then pulls you from these worldly walls
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 11:19 PM UTC