"allurement" poems
We wandered our gazes
to the semidarkness Illuminated
above our sight.
Looking at the allurement
that were now empty caskets
hanging on tombstones of lights,
clinging to there eventual demise.
Lying on the earth,
we felt at peace.
Knowing we were one day
to be woven within its fabric,
empty shells of pebbles lost in
a lake of timeless moments.
We would be seashells on its shores
gently corroding with each wave.
till we were grains of eternity
variations of us everywhere.
Looking upon each other,
our hands clasping like a
momentary fissure
sealing a grain of moments
between ourselves.
*"Death is a moment where life
is cherry a falling slowly,*
For we each hang on delicate
moments,
growing till we do as everything
does. Descending till we evaporate
from reflections and thought.
"Where all echoes who've already past,
Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 5:43 AM UTC
the grass, leaning in the south wind , seeming
as if emeralds, had sent tendrils up
to suckle at the yellow breast, now, high above inflamed....
over soft new
grass
like
strands of green gemstone,
as delicate as humming-bird tongues
teasing nectar
from a titan,
in the sky
triumphant in the void,
a golden bead in the baffling blue !
cattails, curling in sway...and two brown eyes bob upon the surface
of a myriad fertilities.
as if
nature itself had known, one day
a poet would come ~
to roam the rambling renascence of these remote ramparts
in awesome humility ~ and so prepared
a path afflux
that ambled near
and yes !
an
anonymous nomad
with nicotine skin and a scabbard of scandalous quills
would indeed
stumble in as if returning home
to a mansion restored to glory
and seraphic randomness....
a place
that in youth, sustained a quiet, soulful troubadour
by gospels of granite and grain, grass finch
and faun - ennobling an oracle ... but now
enticed a scholar from his cot
to jot ephemera
of outlasting spark
before dark-fall
and so... there
amid all allurement and soft machines
a word-smith gathered
poesy and prose.
muse-driven
this one served
an invisible
sovereign
one
of unsurpassed virility
who charms kaleidoscopes
with offhand sketches
rescued
from
a landfill
a basket weaver,
that unravels to
achieve pure
forms
a wineskin was decanted in dianthus and hollies -
as ampules of anagrams
were sold unscrambled, to dyslexics
without hope
a falcon frolicked above the lowborn lilies...
with eyes
too keen
to see a
blur
as the hand
of god
or a vole
as a lifeline
on his
palm.
Sep 8, 2012
Sep 8, 2012 at 6:15 PM UTC
I am lost for words, as I am empathic with the planet.
Although we truly stand in line for death and the afterlife, it is important that we mother our young.
I do not deny the allurement of sociopathic inclinations and I heartily validate the sexuality of suburban expression.
But, we both know – politicians rise like winged beasts from the murky depths of sociological oceans.
Can I touch your skin and give you compliments?
I love your being, just as it is.
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 11:30 PM UTC
black bee
head first in a
hibiscus flower
waxy pollen beads
dabbled down
its gleaming back
foraging done
it shimmies out
to spy the next
allurement
darting and hovering
as it chooses its mark
close enough
to feel its pulsing whir
breeze the hair
on my arm
I hover too
allured
and unfurled
before turning to dart
through this
shimmering world
Tom Spencer © 2018
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 7:03 AM UTC
the grass, leaning in the south wind , seeming
as if emeralds, had sent tendrils up
to suckle at the yellow breast, now, high above inflamed....
over soft new
grass
like
strands of green gemstone,
as delicate as humming-bird tongues
teasing nectar
from a titan,
in the sky
triumphant in the void,
a golden bead in the baffling blue !
cattails, curling in sway...and two brown eyes bob upon the surface
of a myriad fertilities.
as if
nature itself had known, one day
a poet would come ~
to roam the rambling renascence of these remote ramparts
in awesome humility ~ and so prepared
a path afflux
that ambled near
and yes !
an
anonymous nomad
with nicotine skin and a scabbard of scandalous quills
would indeed
stumble in as if returning home
to a mansion restored to glory
and seraphic randomness....
a place
that in youth, sustained a quiet, soulful troubadour
by gospels of granite and grain, grass finch
and faun - ennobling an oracle ... but now
enticed a scholar from his cot
to jot ephemera
of outlasting spark
before darkfall
and so... there
amid all allurement and soft machines
a word-smith gathered
poesy and prose.
muse-driven
this one served
an invisible
sovereign
one
of unsurpassed virility
who charms kaleidoscopes
with offhand sketches
rescued
from
a landfill
a basket weaver,
that unravels to
achieve pure
forms
a wineskin was decanted in dianthus and hollies -
as ampules of anagrams
were sold unscrambled, to dyslexics
without hope
a falcon frolicked above the lowborn lilies...
with eyes
too keen
to see a
blur
as the hand
of god
or a vole
as a lifeline
on his
palm.
Sep 27, 2011
Sep 27, 2011 at 5:51 PM UTC
Italian Campagna 1309, the open road
Bah! I have sung women in three cities,
But it is all the same;
And I will sing of the sun.
Lips, words, and you snare them,
Dreams, words, and they are as jewels,
Strange spells of old deity,
Ravens, nights, allurement:
And they are not;
Having become the souls of song.
Eyes, dreams, lips, and the night goes.
Being upon the road once more,
They are not.
Forgetful in their towers of our tuneing
Once for wind-runeing
They dream us-toward and
Sighing, say, “Would Cino,
Passionate Cino, of the wrinkling eyes,
Gay Cino, of quick laughter,
Cino, of the dare, the jibe.
Frail Cino, strongest of his tribe
That ***** old ways beneath the sun-light,
Would Cino of the Luth were here!”
Once, twice a year—
Vaguely thus word they:
“Cino?” “Oh, eh, Cino Polnesi
The singer is’t you mean?”
“Ah yes, passed once our way,
A saucy fellow, but . . .
(Oh they are all one these vagabonds),
Peste! ’tis his own songs?
Or some other’s that he sings?
But you, My Lord, how with your city?”
My you “My Lord,” God’s pity!
And all I knew were out, My Lord, you
Were Lack-land Cino, e’en as I am,
O Sinistro.
I have sung women in three cities.
But it is all one.
I will sing of the sun.
…eh? …they mostly had grey eyes,
But it is all one, I will sing of the sun.
“‘Pollo Phoibee, old tin pan, you
Glory to Zeus’ aegis-day,
Shield o’ steel-blue, th’ heaven o’er us
Hath for boss thy lustre gay!
‘Pollo Phoibee, to our way-fare
Make thy laugh our wander-lied;
Bid thy ‘flugence bear away care.
Cloud and rain-tears pass they fleet!
Seeking e’er the new-laid rast-way
To the gardens of the sun…
* * *
I have sung women in theree cities
But it is all one.
I will sing of the white birds
In the blue waters of heaven,
The clouds that are spray to its sea.”
2.6k
The sea is full of secrets;
undiscovered lies and deceiving waves--
with an odd lay.
Like a fathomless man which
conceals the most heart-rending tales
And only a few could sense the depth it owns.
A great consolation--it may seem.
But do not let it's allurement outwit you.
Mar 24, 2021
Mar 24, 2021 at 10:51 AM UTC
A voguish painting
An Irish mistress
Privileged
To clover innovation
A distributing brush
Exquisiteness insight
In her scenery of allurement
Creative brilliance shadowing beyond
Artistic ability with portrait sensitivity
A non-demeanor spectable
A fondness
To erase a scrawl or smidgen
This woman of latex
Sep 8, 2009
Sep 8, 2009 at 3:46 AM UTC
Naked-Beauty
She's skinned in night portray. Only the light comprehend her. They said she's
beauty, and
power, for the
treasures hidden
underneath her skin, of no measure, she kin with pleasure.
Her mind make
her whom she was.
Beauty beyond evil,
beauty in the beholder's
mind over ******
allurement Naked-beauty abide in heart.
-Cloudnine Fairmane
Sep 9, 2022
Sep 9, 2022 at 1:43 PM UTC
A shimmer in her eyes, a temptation or desire
Not for the average allurement; money nor lust
Perhaps for a seducement more deeper,
A fancy for death?
Mask it with a façade of happiness. A laugh. A smile.
Why, you might ask?
She doesn't not want to have anyone worry over her mental sake,
The feeling of not being worthy enough for their tender emotions.
She builds bridges but ends up burning it to ash,
Afraid of letting anyone get to close to her
Many important people had come and go,
Stomping, ripping, smashing and destroying her blazing heart.
People who did not deserve to know her like that.
Taking her trust, love and happiness with them.
Disappointment plays a big roll in her life,
Not against herself, but within the deep confines of relationships, hope, and love.
She burns bridges faster than she builds them,
and she is me.
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 2:41 AM UTC
What sort of divination is this?
Immediately paralyzed by a feathery kiss.
The magnetism between us was always so strong,
But now I'm tortured awaiting you to arrive erelong.
You cast your wand, chant triple syllable spell
You filled my void, something you'd always done well
Now something has changed
This is far more intense
I find that I have lost every single defense
Tender Wizard, Loving Warlock, I am begging thee
Do not ever set me free.
Whatever potion, illusion, or spell this is
I am forever in need of you, my Adonis
For withdrawal seems fatal on both ends
The future now on you depends
For I do not want to leave my trance
This allurement was never a happenstance
Forever I see you with love veiled eyes
Vulnerable to even the slightest demise.
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 3:36 AM UTC
At first glance
what I perceived
wasn't happenstance
fore...
he stood before me
with a smile; radiating
an inner beauty
I never phantomed
I'd have a chance to
behold.
intrigued...
I absorbed his essence;
falling in love with his mind,
as he whispered against me
the beauty of him stole my
heart.
illuminating...
the universe; harmonizing our
allurement of one another.
Jun 14, 2012
Jun 14, 2012 at 1:23 AM UTC
Sudden,
The stress on
Corporeal allurement
But still acting as if
You came as the Holy man,
To destroy the fiend and
Bring goodness unto the world.
That you are not the fiend!
Upon a lie you came,
On a lie you'll go.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 5:58 PM UTC
and so... There ! Amid all allurement and soft machines;
the spoiled brat of Venus, knicking the doors and kicking the canned laughter
to the foot of a mountain of existential speculation. Amid the cherry bombs and the Persian rugs; so many menageries of tinfoil origami swans.
so very little Time.
so little rosemary wine in the pickle jars. So few wolves
in the porcupine dens - and only a swarm of hornets
in your nightclothes, this
morning.
and nothing but nettles
in your tea.
well, nettles and golems and orange hope.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 12:50 PM UTC
The killer in me whispers to me now.
Nocturnal urges creep up too.
Inspired by the musical chorus of How?
The killer in me sees it all to true.
I don't know why. I don't know how.
But the killer in me wants to **** you.
A bemused idea really. A psychopathic vow.
All I know, is it is there, I know it's true.
How poetic, romantic it is, really I must insist.
An emotion, an urge being all on its own.
The reasons of allurement I cannot list.
Why I should be the one, on this throne.
The killer in me, sees with cynical eyes.
She knows the beauty of the Death.
And grants the victim an indulgence through lies.
Sees, understands the gift, the favor, of every breath.
I am the killer that observes the light leave,
That takes no remorse in wrong, exciting deeds.
I watch the sick, unseemly fantasy I weave.
I know it is the killer in me that yearns and needs.
The killer in me says that it is perfectly, consummately OK.
The fundamental guidelines do not apply to us as one.
This is the way we are, our prevalent, primal way.
This is how we quiet the voices, this is how its done.
Cold and precise and splendid, the killer is an artist.
Taking pride in her work, making it true craft.
"The killer in me will never surface." I insist.
But when I said that, she just smiled and laughed.
Apr 6, 2011
Apr 6, 2011 at 2:09 PM UTC
Inside and out of my mind.
Waiting for the stars to align.
Going over things unsaid...
Putting myself through the infinite grief in my head.
I should let you in my mind more,
So then you too can explore.
Subliminal messages which you find absurd;
You just haven't taken the time to let them be heard.
You probably have no care,
So hold your breath at your own despair.
Stuck in a labyrinth.
Cogitations deepening within.
I keep searching, and searching, but still haven't found the light at the end...
Finally, I look up and see the moons grin;
Along with that stars as the universe spins.
The stars finally come together putting me at ease.
The allurement caught around my consciousness pardoned my heart to be released;
Letting me escape from the deceptions of my own mind...
The stars finally came together... and I learned everything just takes time.
Jul 20, 2011
Jul 20, 2011 at 12:14 AM UTC
Wearing the crown of magnetic allurement ,
Sheathed , Sanguine , Egregious and Effulgent .
With a beguiling pace she coyly approaches in shades of shimmery reds , bowed with obliging politeness .
Gracefully walking into 'thy' life and grasping 'thy' strings of happiness.
She lives in 'thy 'mind with enticing gravity , residing within 'thy' heart for eternity.
Unveiling her true self,
shedding all dignity and peace ,
she renders her debouch self as she now plays 'thy ' perfect host.
She titillates 'thy ' mind like a ghost.
Bewitched by the 'sorceress',
'Thy' life is succumbed to the tempest.
Alas! their is no escape for she paved the way to desperation .
Captivated by the "SUPERIOR TEMPTATION" is 'thy hopeless mind swarming with aggresion and a helpless heart flanked with apprehension , depression and destruction .
Such my friend is the devastation of the " TEMPTATION "
© Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar
Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 6:25 AM UTC
Her movement,
The movement of flames flickering in the slow distilled wind,
wind that is now raging in to a storm.
I will help her subside,
subside into me blindly.
Giving into my allurement and gaze,
I will have you soon, the structure of skin I lust after.
I will have you with satisfaction.
My heart is in my mouth, against my teeth,
Breaking my precious white pearls and making them into disease.
Disease that has grown in me like a fungus.
The disease of lust.
Lusting after her structure.
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 11:05 AM UTC
In the vastness of space
There are stars that choose
to revolve around each other.
We met -
as random as comets passing
our own paths predetermined
unwavering...
or so we thought.
With that first boyish grin
my orbit was revised.
I don't know -
was it my laugh, perhaps my smile?
that drew you in closer
to me.
Maybe it was it gravity,
or magic-
An unknown allurement
that began our
elective affinity?
Call it what you will -
the effect is undeniable...
The energy created between us
filled the air.
pulling us closer...
Coffee?
sure...
Conversation
unending...
your place?
no mine...
You drank whiskey
I prefer wine
You love this song -
so do I...
Slow dancing ~
melting into a kiss.
Statistical differences
fade into nothingness....
The warm sensation
of our hands,
learning the landscape
of the others body.
Tongues join the exploration.
Clothes leave the equation.
The energy pulling you
- into me
impossible to resist.
my orbit irrevocably changed -
forever whirling
around
you.
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 11:37 PM UTC
you have a sort of frightening beauty, i thought, and moved my hands down your sides. not in a way that’s scary, but in a way that really makes you stop. and listen. i’m listening to the way you look tonight. i’m hearing everything i’ve ever wanted to hear. it’s like observing for the first time, myself, a child visiting you, the museum, or noticing the vibrant and voracious appearance of something you’ve never really looked at before. that’s what makes it frightening. the way you could pass by something a million times and never once really look at it. and when you do, perceptions of anything but the entrancing allurement stop. you are that way, except i know you, i know your face, your body, the way your lips lock into mine, and the hard lines that outline your jaw. i could go on and on describing each perfect square inch of your figure. you’re radiant.
then you looked at me and your eyes turned golden, and oh how in that instant i thought about how i knew you like i knew god, which is all too well, yet as though i’d never even seen anything like your kind of beauty before, every single time my eyes fall onto you. i said, “get naked and come into bed with me” and you responded “don’t tell me what to do” before taking your clothes off and wrapping into those soft blankets with me.
Aug 10, 2012
Aug 10, 2012 at 9:46 PM UTC
Remember Victor Frankenstein-
his fault that transcends generations,
no, no, no not his desire my dear child,
hiding the daemons of our minds-
that is the real tragedy.
His heart told him to continue-
as if following the heart trumps the brain,
his skin crawling as his eyes widen-
gasping and panting with his heart.
Remember Victor Frankenstein-
watching his family disappear,
the secret hidden away- but so
what, remember Victor Frankenstein-
Victor Frankenstein is the template.
Finding ourselves sharing space and thought,
yet gaining nothing- for there is still a boundary,
the ideas locked away in the corner-
hidden from the other-
desiring oneness with the other-
Individualism never leaves,
but the allurement-
of having a mind to share,
a heart to hold-
Binding the mind for the sake,
of a manic heart.
But the knowledge is there,
though there is a together-
is there really a together?
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 6:47 PM UTC
This insipid night, Time has thieved you from me
As angels and demons cry on the other’s shoulders
The Gates of Heaven open wide for you
The halls of hell accompany my misery
But one day… he shall return me to you
At the crack of dawn, my world will bloom colours
And on that dawning, I will see
When I gathered timber to set your pyre
When I bore you with my numbed sinew
When I laid you, gently, upon your bed
When, as you lay, I set ablaze your bed
I cast my heart into the consuming fire
Behind the roofs of my eyes,
Seething tears shrivel to hail
The scent of the carnations I braided to your hair
The allurement in the purple stretch of your lips
The nap of the face I once held in my palms
I gather shards of me as it all burns into the air
Like your ashes, I hold myself in a clenched fist
Like pounce, I am seeping away through its crevices
The fire I lit, he rages, swallowing my soul
To your ethereal suite, he ushers you, my paeony
The fire I lit, carries the ashes of my soul
To the one who received me
To you…
The air’s now a smothering dense smoke
I hold a smouldering purse… your ashes
With my hollow soul, in my fumbling palms.
Cyra, writhing to hold you… I am broken.
This insipid night, her stars united to chain me
Her chain numbs my soul into the night’s blue
And every night after, that chain grew denser
Tallying every moment, I bide, for my sun to rise
That transfigured sun will melt her chains off me
And his sky will wrap me away from his rays.
Rest now, ‘Twas a long way from home
Until our sun ascends,
Goodbye, Cyra…
Mar 20, 2021
Mar 20, 2021 at 9:25 AM UTC
I met him at an audition; he kept staring at me,
I walked over introduced myself; he said he's
a musician, told him I could help with is dickion
and he whispered; I want to sip the fluency of your
elegance, in which, I smiled all giddy inside; pulled
him close and said are you wanting to luxuriate in
lips pout, he said; yes and his eyes engraved me
in his soul
he stepped back; licked my lips and flushed,
embraced love's fidgeting, bestirred in gasped
hunger he held me like a lover in a dream;
clinging to the edge of silent beggary's urgency,
I touched his heat, knew immediately I wanted
him pendulating above femininities heat
so, I coaxed him with an aubade; whispering moist
in want; his euphony he'd written upon parchment
of my heart, without thought I wanted to give in to
masculinities desire to taste and sip as he pleased
but, I held him off for awhile wanting to get to know
more of him, not wanting just a physical allurement,
eyeing him in my mind to take in the scope of his
aura; weeks passed before I would allow him to do
more than just kiss me, the physical attraction was
too strong to wait for entanglements pleasure, the
want to linger in the delicacy of us; on one of those
misty balmy still of night's; I just grasped at passion's
threshold; to drown in our muted moans
as he'd explore pout of silken lips; tasting me
as I'd taste him we savored each other's hunger
taking our time, enjoying each nook and cranny of
him and I, tongue traced my trembles from its
eruptive point between wet thighs; I had to flip our
script so, I could taste his milky spillage as well; like
fingerprints upon thigh, we glided in out, back and
front of our hungered want of one another; sighing
in unison laying paused and breathless, our rhythm
leaves us arched in each other's curve, tasting;
losing control
frenzied, breathless in softness of sigh's every
stroke of ecstasy, lost in the rapture of love; each
kiss from head to toe told a story of love lust and
hunger, hopefully for eternity; as the days grew long
and nights got shorter, we couldn't do without one
another; one day out of the blue he popped the
question and without a doubt I said; yes!
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 10:16 AM UTC