"appraised" poems
******
A symbol of denial, congeniality, and assurance of love;
the fate of maternity, motherhood, that is witnessed
and cherished from afar.
From a sacred little haven;
from a struggle of motherly defense.
O ******
Temptations are to you never a bother,
in the tempests of lush dreams,
the draining of purity,
and veritable sensations.
Steadiness is your notion;
it barely leaves your mind
you may be deeply hurt
but never hurt,
you may be a stranger
but your grace is your power.
Truth that is unpardonable,
veraciousness at my simplest words,
clarity that is gleaming in your eye,
a token of pleasure but indestructible affection;
adorable as you are,
serenity is beyond question;
dreams are but inseparable from your docile life.
O ****** the sweetness and gentleness of thy eyes
are my irreplaceable silence,
my appraised soul,
and my most resolute
and irrepressible invocation.
O ****** one that is so rare a rose
Many as in the May-day dance are tainted;
marks of annoyance, omens of indulgence.
With hunger for nothing but moans;
unsober groans, and quickening breaths in paces of outward satisfaction;
intoxicated desires but unloving movements;
on the grounds for endless dancing;
there is the thirst for grips, the grossest of stateliness!
Voluptuous romance, perfidious touches, and
false-hearted toys!
In the wakeful dreams of which
I long for you, a handful of thy chastest kisses!
I pray for your hands, so delicate
as mine, how they shall fit into each other!
I long for your lips, your spotless, uncorrupted cheeks,
My demand is for your hands;
for sanity, and sincerest cordiality
Despite of my guilt and former unconsciousness
I shall amend my grief for you,
for you only,
for oureth perfect, unconquerable happiness,
and the union of our souls
in a day of holy matrimony.
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 7:35 AM UTC
I have outlived suffering,
I have endured pain.
I have gently walked
thru fire and rain.
I have swallowed anger,
I have eaten sin.
I have bled
and lost what lies within.
I have surpassed doubt,
I have suppressed blame.
I have taken stock
of what remains.
I have absorbed sadness,
I have taken loss.
I have appraised the damage
and paid the cost.
I have been loveless,
I have been true.
I will never
be beaten by you.
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 2:40 AM UTC
The glistening spherical platform
Capturing the eye with a hue,
Of transparent blue.
Within the center of a twinkle
On blue and admiration,
No dust or cover exists,
Polish every day
By master art creator
A stone appraised,
With no price,
Irreplaceable individuality.
A gem
Full of its warmth
Held closest to me.
And upon my heart.
Dec 27, 2012
Dec 27, 2012 at 11:50 PM UTC
promenades the sleepless night through my, like rain, palm;
tears, counting, marble-toward drops
i am to nothing degenerated,
pirating surrealism.
with my contusions, awareness-lacked, tramples
brought to the temple, rotoscoped, liquidates
from the core, curdled blood.
clouds, sickness with apathy, the air
made balcony on, flesh-spoken, impassioned.
i, the night, erotize
begin their flock, sursum corda!
tremble, i, and scrape the tower before me
pulverization may lead to immunization, where i
melt as sulfur in
Midas’s clasp.
i walked his tread, years on end, scoped out
miserable, fragmented, at startwith:
he touched my arm
and to precious
metals, pitchfork incubated, i arose
fashioned his pedestal, glamored in steps, appraised biased
no represent sources, ideal inertia, this primal adoration
slips of drillpressed kisses
caught off guard.
in the tufts, my mortal : remember, i, of parquet deeply hidden;
i am of a world, peace, cast : however,
deeply
lachrymogenic
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
Find yourself
Even in the clutter of chores
In the whistle of pressure cooker
In the clash of dishes and utensils
Search yourself
In the aroma of spices
In the color of vegetables
In the routines along the kitchen platform
In the rich gravies and the brew of juices!
Look out for yourself
In the clean mirrors
Along that fine line of kohl
In the strokes of the mascara
Over the gloss of lip shades
In that dot of bindi
Hold on to yourself
In the newness
With time, space and people
Evolve...not change!
Molt...not skin off!
Wear a new color over the base...de-color not!
Even in the dark
Can you not see thy radiant self
Glowing appraised from within!
You be your master
Look for traces of yourself
In your eye's mirror!
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 2:26 AM UTC
the compensation for my competence?
a can of Coors occasionally crowned
with sticky notes instruction-filled and dense,
with worn old shoe string thick and tightly bound,
a brief hurrah before a list to do,
if time were air, with duty i'd turn blue,
a present given as a false pretense,
his recompense? a crushed Coors can atop
the boss' desk, a drop spilled on the wood,
a single sticky note stuck to the drop,
"your list of things to do, i could, I should...
yet reach up to that single book, top shelf!"
("Learn How to Fix Your Life--Do It Yourself!")
soon management will purge all its dead wood,
and driftwood i will be among the planks,
and crates expelled above board for to stay
afloat, the company in all its ranks,
will learn that without wood the boat will stray
not only from its sure intended course,
but from the surface to the floor of course,
to join the tiger shark and manta ray,
soon supervisors, managers and such
will join department heads, vice presidents,
chief officers valued, appraised worth much,
thrown overboard to chase those dividends,
that sink so silently to ocean floor,
where there exists no air lock's safety door,
when futures join the pasts through these presents,
my recompense for knowing when to quit?
a can of Coors occasionally crowned
with smiling lips and laughing breath of wit,
my happy feet in new shoes leather-bound,
a new ship where appreciation rings
the ship bells of respect on many things,
smooth sailing through safe seas without a ground.
(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 8:25 PM UTC
Through the masks and obscured within the lies, lays the truth unsaid in which all despise
Too much had been appraised, and much was fitfully un-right, so vastly dark within folded light
He was King, and she forever his Queen, still they hold each others hands, a thrilling vice in which they teamed
Their faces lit with withering sight, flightless eyes instead of cocky fulfilled and streaming plight
They tangoed to flooded phantom operas and darkly lit scenes, set with bloodset roses and heartfelt keys
Bowing inside the night they longfully romanced, ballerined on fruitless olden toes that would soon become cramped
Whispering together, they flee against the mournless sounds, that crept and prowled outside the bounds'
Deciding a long time ago to dance their lives away, to live within the fleeting joy and feel their heartbeats sway
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 1:33 PM UTC
Angel Friend
He is an Angel Friend.
Old, Wise, and Designed to have a huge heart
A hard working soul that never quits or did such weaken to bend.
Upon his birth..
Designed for brilliance - the bigger, brighter, and more
significant of life purposes..
A legacy forged
At his birth
An energy made itself A great and bright start
Elderly ages equals wisdom and a fatherly care
Energy in a heart forged from gold - such strength shared and Naturally grown
Such vines to sprout and bond
Connections created and they never detach
Away from the one's who have shared such energies, in return.
A beautiful artistic creation
Created through heart's truer matches..
Selfless gifts
Formed from the kindred spirits - like the silk worm's
Carefully generated stitches of silk
From their gratefulness and directed sharing of portions of their life's force
These fibers are woven into unmeasurable
Dime Worthy estimated or appraised "trinkets"
of breathtaking Tapestry Blankets or "clothe windows.."
Joined forever as one, from one starting love's warmth to another,
train on "crazy rails in need of redirection.."
Such souls see and hand over irreplaceable rider tickets
Clothe pieces of spirits joined as one - as tapestries .
Quilted generations bonded by their loving and sharing connections in Golden Spirited worth .
Heirlooms handed down between life's generations
New births of fresh spirits
Climbing the ladders of time
as cherished timeless gifts
Given to those whom he cares for
Bonded to even those outside a "family" pool
until the very last breath.
Spending not a dime.
He shall toil until his spirit leaves the Earth
Then such energies stay with those whom he cared for
All timeless and unmeasurable ticks of the clock
or sands of the hourglass
Light shines upon the extension of the cared one's family births
Therefor , he has always been earning a defined role
"The eternal force of caring.."
"The warrior's toll."
In edition to the medals of honor
Golden Wearable awards, given unto him, by the Creator.
Titled as the "Creator's Golden Heart" and "Love's earned Crown."
As written in the Latin Life's Wisdom Scrolls" as:
per "Creator aurei cordis" et "coronam meruit amor est scriptor
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 6:25 PM UTC
Ah, the regard, or disregard, of the poets' ever-pressing intention.
Beheld by afar, nobility counts; their works too foolish to mention.
Not acclaimed as skilled,
For not learned in school;
Eyed with disdain,
Slandered a fool,
Never renowned, praised, or appraised, or gainfully held in contention.
Purpose is such, (pure irony), never seeking of fortune or gain.
But only to expel the catalyst, desperate attempt to feel sane.
Writing merely,
To quiet the soul.
Transferring chaos,
The primary goal.
As with a plan, hastily made; frantically, frantically plotting in vain.
Jul 7, 2010
Jul 7, 2010 at 5:17 PM UTC
I take pride
In jeopardizing my life
Unlike monopoly
I have one die
In life
At a time
I
The lucky spender
Received a splendid surprise
The sublime arrived
Just in time
On the night
Before destruction
Yes,
There is a bit friction
In this business
Non-fictional character
Rises in the author
I wrote
The book of the dead
And spread knowledge
On earth’s bed
Now,
I’m denied credit
For risks taken
Instead of a praise
Appraised
For my edgy ways
And found
Guilty of pleasure
I’m
In debt
With the angels
Who lent me
The soul makings
And sent me
On a mission
Which remains
Unaccomplished
In their vision
I am
Sole proprietor
In this business
I have no relations
Trust none
My inquisition
Seems superstitious
When you unravel
My unreal supposition
But suppose
For a minute
That you were in
The opposed position
And posed
With the mind of a menace
Who, sadly,
Never stepped
In the shoes of sanity
Society views your life
As a stain
On earth’s plain
Though, your pain
Seems self-sustained
You were born
Insane
Would be better off
If offered removal
But awful is often
Sought
In the eyes
Of vile beholders
The unnamed soldier
Is the truest
Of them all
Marching down
The broken road
To destiny
The
Know-it-alls
Know nothing
At all
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 12:57 AM UTC
I tastest t'is wind-ah, still far too sour, and bitter,
And whether it shall get better, I never knoweth;
But who says t'at our past woes are tethered to our sorrow,
When two souls doth align-and find once more-a brighter shelter?
For every real love shall neither be wrong, faulty, nor mean,
Whenst beauty is appraised, it shall stay humble and remain unseen;
For its comeliness is just like a warm-hearted sparkle,
Even friendlier, than life canst once assume-or handle;
Though ethereal still, in the vagueness of my succulent mirror.
For look-how it returns my kisses not-but tempts it into shabby remorse!
Ah, yet I imagine how it might-and might just feel, to kiss thee,
And free myself-from t'is emptiness which hath oft' set me alight, in agony;
Without thee now, I am too frail and not very strong;
I loveth thee better still-and hath been awaiting thee all along.
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 3:02 PM UTC
A stranger says hello
With eyes that appraised a soul
More vast than any ocean known
A woman says hello
With a smile that pierces holes
In a heart wanting to be whole
An acquaintance says hello
With a laugh as rare as gold
Igniting a fire inside so bold
A friend says hello
With a brilliant mind bestowed
Sharing all there is to be told
A lover says hello
With a promise to never let go
To face the world but not alone
But…
With eyes that have become blind
And only a puddle of a soul to find
A lover says goodbye
With a forced smile questioning why
To a heart struggling to stay alive
A friend says goodbye
With a cry so dead and so dry
Carrying the fire away to die
An acquaintance says goodbye
With a closed off mind full of lies
Sharing every tall tale just to get by
A woman says goodbye
With promises to get left behind
So scared of what there is inside
A stranger says goodbye
Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 12:45 AM UTC
The serene silence resonates across the room
Depictions of creative minds coloured the walls
Her footsteps crawled across the revered tomb
As her mind drifts into the artists' realm
Little did she know that I glimpsed from behind
While she was deep in thought, I appraised her mind
And I questioned myself, "Is this fine?",
My emotions and amour slowly pushes pass this fine line
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 11:13 AM UTC
Painfully the heart beats the chest,
Ember of lineal segregation will come out,
And the ripping blaze of fire will engulf,
Communal harmony consummating peaceful coexistence gulf,
Executing ethnicity, caste, creed and religion smithereens.
Patriot’s spirit yields serene backdrops,
Everyone permanently scribbling down the tales,
And if we don’t improve the stories,
Coming generations will be forced to clean up our mess,
Ending up in the question “what is peace?”
Peace is simply forgiveness,
End of hate, war or violence,
Abstinence of using violence to show our emotions,
Calming silence,
Endeavor to have unity in diversity.
Portrayal of Kenya’s flag is peace,
Entailing every magic spell of her climate, history and culture,
Appraised by her quick succession of seasons,
Culminated by the gentle sun and benign rain that softens the mind,
Endorsing peace naturally.
Wishing a peaceful 2017 General Elections in Kenya.
Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 1:21 AM UTC
oh, those lips, i felt that breath
between my ear
and the crook of my neck
from your whispers i could hear
some haunting phrase
some taunting line
my heart appraised
but my name had been signed
so i stumbled, knowingly
into your open arms
cob webs spun with treachery
laced with venomous charm
those wicked, wicked words
"where have you been?"
that is what i heard
my thoughts began spin
as i screamed within myself
"NOT WITH YOU,
I KNOW MY HELL!
THIS HELL YOU DREW!
YOU SELFISH *******
HOW CAN YOU SPEAK
THOSE VILE WORDS
THEY MAKE ME WEAK!
I'VE BEEN FELT, BEEN SEEN
WITH HANDS TRACING MY THIGHS
AND ALL IN BETWEEN
BUT IN BETWEEN THE LINES
I'M STILL THE CHILD YOU LEFT
LEFT FOR DEAD, I BET SHE'S SWEET TOO
SWEET AS YOUR LIAR'S BREATH
BUT DON'T WORRY I NEVER BELIEVED YOU
WHEN YOU SAID 'YOU ARE THE ONE
ONLY ONE, I SWEAR'
AS YOU LOCKED AND LOADED THIS GUN
SO LET'S PLAY TRUTH OR DARE?
I DARE YOU TO LOOK ME IN THE EYE
AND SWEAR YOU DIDN'T KNOW
WHAT YOU WERE DOING WITH THOSE LIES
AND ALL THE PAIN IN ME YOU'D SOW
I WISH YOU'D GO, BUT YOU STAY STILL
STICKS AND STONES WILL BREAK BONES
AND YOUR WORDS WILL SURELY ****
BUT IT IS YOU, OF THE MEN I'VE KNOWN
I HAVE CRAWLED INTO THEIR BEDS
AND THEY FILL THIS SPACE
BUT THEY CANNOT FILL MY HEAD
SO WHAT HAVE I BECOME? A SWEET DISGRACE?
OH, JUST **** ME NOW, EVEN THE SCORE
PLEASE, I'VE ALREADY MADE MY BED
LET ME BE WHAT YOU LEFT ME FOR
LET ME JUST BE DEAD."
but the words i spoke were not that
i whispered "i've been around...
and now i'm back"
that's when i hit the ground
pulled down like sinking sand
knowing i found my hell
in the touch of your gentle hands
i cannot run, not very far
i know my home, i know it well
within the cob webs of your arms
i find my home, this little hell
Nov 27, 2010
Nov 27, 2010 at 7:16 AM UTC
Feeling like Diogenes,
exhausted from extensively searching for an honest man,
a Cynic Philosopher,
with an astonishment for that which is the common man,
which has him hiding way all disgruntled and,
trying to find a way to rewrite regrets and make amends,
by writing amends,
because I’m not fooled by the Commoners sins,
see the opulence on display doesn’t fool me a bit,
opulence is actually a not so thinly disguised belligerence,
actually opulence is belligerence,
most modern day luxuries are all worthless,
most people are too thick to admit this,
but we all know there may not be a higher purpose,
luckily the lethargics are too lazy for skullduggery,
that’s why to this literature I’m in service,
only two I’m loyal to are Legits an literature,
because honestly I don’t feel anyone else deserves bliss,
especially when all these luxuries are actually worthless,
while poems are praised and paintings are appraised priceless,
and when I receive acclaim and praise for these verses,
I often get awkwardly shy & don't reply because I don’t think I’m worth it,
makes me want to flee and retreat to the words,
or go live in a barrel like Diogenes,
because we all die that can’t be denied,
but we don’t all really live life let God be my witness,
we all die,
but we all don’t live again,
though from what I write,
I live forever through this pen,
and until then I will ponder,
as I wander in wonder on the streets I am in,
searching likely fruitlessly,
for that mythical creature, The Honest Man.
∆ LaLux ∆
New Book FREE Here: https://www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps
Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 4:33 PM UTC
The conversational instrumentals
reply to each other harmoniously
the drum pounds,the rumbles pumps
as the skyline shine on mountains
The cas cas attach the drifty clouds
the C major smiles inside the beats
melodies of the G clef arrest the rest
a spell of keyboard appraised in praise
The trumpet screams as a saint
on the shadows of the lighted hall
the wall on the edge of the mall
a fusion of hope the unsung treaties
In the west the sound of the ancestors
appease my piece, to seek a forgone peace
inside the overrated and haunted world
of indifference and utter misfortune
Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 12:41 PM UTC
Late in the day a man all alone
Surrounded by gray and somber in tone
Shuffled with effort
For tired his sort
Inquiry
he made
Of a can of import
And crooked a gaze
From a clerk in a daze
When this his request
Was cheaply
Appraised
For his head did it bow
For
Her head
side to side
For his smallest request
Was quickly denied
And there did I stand
And shared his dismay
While all around
Spoke
the news of the day
The coupons
The deals
The
The 5 minute meals
The
Lottery folk
While
Clicking there heals
So beyond ,in disbelief
For he would not this day
Find what had brought him
all of this way
So, empty his cart
So poor is this man
With broken of heart
Without the right can
For gluttons all us
With
Sales at a scoop
While one man
Would be fine
With
Celery soup.
Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 11:39 PM UTC
Laid my eyes on you to rest
This feeling inside takes control and precedence
You've seen the clues hints and evidence
Can you want me? Can you need me?
My twinkling star my diamond in the rough
Appraised every time I see you smile
Priceless
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 12:39 AM UTC
Love is mythical
as it bears indefiniteness
and truly immeasurable;
love has infinite variables
in meaning and applications!
Love is myth
as it is invisible
with no physical identity
that it can not be appraised
for its viability and significance.
But myth or not
such being an emotion
has possessed every heart
be it a commoner or royal
for its impact is great in life .
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 11:30 PM UTC
A question of perfection
Is constantly
Raised
Appraised
And ultimately
Erased
Where did it evolve
Where did you grow up
Where did you end up
There’s no correlation
Perfection
Is just a simple categorization
The common equation of
Perfection
Does not apply to
YOU or
ME
WE are all unique
Labels don’t define us
WE have gone through it all
And still seak to represent a fake plus
We are evolving, failing, and progressing.
I AM
YOU ARE
WE ALL ARE our own images of
Perfection.
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 8:38 PM UTC