"aromas" poems
I want you to know
one thing.
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine
415.6k
A gentle breeze
Forever remembered
A luscious glade
Cold under your feet
A rich blue sky
Seemingly unreal
Beautifully arousing aromas
Tasting without touch
Pleasingly soft sand
To bathe yourself in
A sensuous bed of leaves
To wrap yourself in
A pleasurably warm ocean
Stimulating your senses
Lustful love
Forever wanting
Incapacitating desire
Depriving your concentration
You lose yourself
In natures tempting ways
Seducing you to stay
Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 1:36 PM UTC
My life is full of poetry
in lyrical design
Expressions in a rhythm
that ascend and then decline.
One moment I am full of joy,
then sorrow breaks my heart.
My soul is touched by music
and the thrill that it imparts.
I love the rain, embrace the sun
and smile at winter snow.
I crave the full moon's silver light
and dance beneath the glow.
I savor sweet aromas
taking pleasure in the breeze
And love the gentle rustle,
as it passes through the trees.
Yes, poetic is the gift of life,
inspiring me to rhyme.
I'd write a million odes to it,
but I just don't have the time!
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 5:35 PM UTC
Here rests a future
Untouched and eager
for light
Wanting to exude its aromas
of which I neither looked
nor cared.
She handed me the match
fresh, burning bright,
a new sense in my familiar room.
Baffling confusion
overtook as I blew her match
so stubborn
to extinguish
in a faint stream of
smoke still thinning.
Was I
the stubborn?
Subsequent darkness
overtaking
Once a sweet home
Now a paralyzing loneliness.
Match burnt, candle gone
future still…
Will another offer to
light my dark corners
--myself willing,
with a newfound scent?
A day may come
to end my night,
but I only care to see
the one I once hid from.
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 10:41 AM UTC
Inspired by a vintage ****** postcard from the 1920s - 30s:
The Muse sits resplendent
caressed in sepia tones and pastel cream
gilded with the glaze of a bygone era
her silk Charleston negligee
worn proud like a vintage ornament
perched on an aesthetically pleasing
shapely pert insolent *****
blossomed with tiny beads of sweat
the heat of such anticipation
entices the pearls of the ******
to pamper and pleasure their perversions
etched as if in a radiance of candlelight
the flickering limbs pulse their bloom
nimble fingers of dancing shadows
cupping the feline curves of a chaise longue
the purposefully out of place set piece
the fantasy of a gentleman's reading room
caked in casked sherry
and Nat Sherman cigar infused aromas
her elegant pose sumptuous reclining
elbow length satin gloves
sensually wrapped in wanton desire
two fingers clasp a Sorbranie Black Russian
smoked like a sultry gypsy
with a fervent demeanour
from a silver opera cigarette holder
beckoning with the cats eyes of mischief
over Pinced nez eyeglasses
with a fascination imbibed
in the praxis of passion
the peach skin of refulgent youth
directs the viewer downwards, slowly
survey each contour of olive skin
and stroke every hidden cleft of fabric
to glimpse the nubile thighs of grace
leading the eye to the arch of an ankle
slipped like a fitted glove
nestled in the cleavage of her calf
and the chastity of future wonderment
the forgotten photograph
captures a period in time
the memories of the muse
now in motionless existence
a demure allure forever frozen
once lost, but now
never forgotten
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 2:40 AM UTC
Brown sugar sapotas
Blending with custard alfonso mangos
And bold sweet lime juice
Georgette saris
Pairing with uncut diamond necklaces
Mixed with peals and rubies
Gently sloping palm trees
Swaying in balmy sultry air
And hazy golden sunsets
Frenetic yellow autos
Competing with dusty zipping mopeds
Mixed with ambulating pedestrians
Aromas of cumin
Blending with the sewage
Other times with incense
Glows of brass oil lamps
Singing in hums of prayer
Added with turmeric's incantations
Brightly-patterned salwars
Accentuating gemstone bindis
Comfy fitted leggings
Savory masala dosas
Coupling coconut chutney
Meter-high filter coffee
Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 8:17 AM UTC
Spines curve as sweetly as drops from a honeysuckle
Notes in a melody fill the void spaces
Gentle rushes stir like the swish of rustling leaves
Flushed as red as the cherry who’s stem is knotted
Time stolen from the hands of a frozen clock-
Still like snow fallen from a winter shower
Senses fully awaken to chase alluring aromas
Repetitive jolts of candied sin trickle throughout the body
Electric flow in the veins sparks an extended invitation
Contagious appetite will mirror aches of desire
Surges of shock in the body join the mind and soul
Accelerating spikes in heart rate kiss private secrets
Boundless longing branded to one another
Yearning indulged by limitless exchanges of energy-
Transfers immune from harm
Pressure from oneness loosens the tremble in pleading breaths
Hands close around each hip to clench their hollows
Credible fingers drenched in admiration coat mingled skin
One is composed by the gravitation of two
Defying moonlight to surrender at an immeasurable ******
Reaching for the highest point to let go
Sharing traces of untamed wind with soaring wings
Collecting innocence altered by ecstasy
Choosing vulnerability to expose what cannot be said
Fantasies traded through the rhythm of touch
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 10:21 AM UTC
I look up from my book
to find beams of warm sunlight
touching my face,
the chugging of the train
accompanied by its whistling,
become my aural companions
for the journey,
as I look at scenes that
unfold before my eyes :
I pass by hawkers
trying to sell their wares,
their calls mingled with
joyous voices,
of children
excited about their
first train journey,
of families
on their way,
perhaps, to attend a wedding,
or to celebrate the birth
of a much awaited child.
I see :
village belles toiling away
on fields;
shabby looking buildings
speaking of years of neglect;
temples ringing with the sounds of
bhajans being sung with religious fervour,
bells being tolled, pleading
the gods to look down
from their divine abodes;
roadside stalls filling the air
with aromas of food,
promising hearty meals.
They are all ephemeral sights, and yet,
they have become a part of me -
the smells, the sights -
they shall bring back memories
that will become my companions
in solitude.
Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 4:17 AM UTC
Dough making
with flour and water
Salt and butter
Calls for kneading
In ritualistic candor
As parts come together
To an irreversible matter
The soft cushion of dough
between the palm and the bowl
pliable with every push and shove
stretched and compressed
In sheepish conformity
Blistered on skillet
Puffed up to a chapati
Heavens thanked with each bite
For flat bread with savory curry
Fills nostrils with soft aromas-
Relished as heaven on tongue-
One is contented of this flat bread
Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 8:59 PM UTC
tumeric tucked twixt the members, the digits the fingers the thumbs
it's solivagent aromas
make their home
dormant,
yet retractable;
neutrons
known
many moments to millimeters
the soft rust color fades
oh,
i haven't even noticed the time passing
when will i notice my own grave.
© 2015 Kate Volk
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 1:38 AM UTC
*How I wish to float upon your breast
Soft and placid as a glass lake, windless
Breathless
But to delve into valleys
Unexplored, keeper of buried treasures
I trek throughout, wandering
Aimless deliverance, unspoken promises
Intricacy of intimate embrace
I weave in my fingers, passion
Spill me, leave kisses like ghosts
Translucent memories
Moist with seduction
Delicious droplets of enticement
Proposing infatuation, falling from your lips
Illustrious little allures
Swim through me
Serpentine twisting contours
Wrap me in flesh, consumption
Stares, to reiterate a longing
Convey this truthfulness
Honeyed words of desire
Think not to deny yourself this moment
Make love to white whispers
Embedded in the mouth of temptation
Take no responsibility
Let movement be freely expressed
Body caressed
Comforting red embers
Of lustful flame
Spin tales of time and tryst
Inhale the sweeter aromas
Entwine with immaculacy
Reciprocate sensuality, a pair
Two
Two with a twist
And many other turns*
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 7:38 PM UTC
I had to go into the big city
well big for me anyway
a beautiful drive still dreaming I think
looks right down on the water that city
at Lake Champlain.
So what did you get?
Oh. You're seriously asking, alright.
Well, it's for a lovely couple this weekend getting married.
Oh I see, do tell Chef ?
I picked some beautiful ingredients
for pumpkin cheesecake
some candies...
I especially love the sunflower seed drops in magenta, violet, lime green, burnt orange, tangerine and dark chocolate,
they look like little fall tears.
I also found some vinted
honeymoon wine
A voigner
with a lovely fragrant crisp taste
Hmmmm...interesting, go on?
It signifies the full moon in June after the flowers turn into young grapes some honeysuckle Aromas followed by luscious mango and nectar
Paired with roasting chicken
& beautifully seasonal fingerling potatoes
and this amazing rustic sweet potato bread
gorgeous heirloom vegetables in a few various choices
delicately cooking squash
all seasoned to perfection bringing
nutty joy to all
in an aromatic feathery plume of goodness
finally...
green goddess dressing and roasted nuts, berries among other toppings for a brilliant salad.
Oh...well any invitations still open?
I'm not sure, but you can be my guest in the kitchen come along
take your hat off what's the hurry?
Cherie Nolan© 2016
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 10:57 AM UTC
she smells (nameless and shameless)
*a concoction of mixed aromas,
a once in a lifetime scent,
impossible to bottle,
impossible to name,
nameless and shameless
morning coffee, last nights vin rosé,
a come-a-little-closer-tasting for the summer solstice,
the stale of the evening meals of grains and kale,
the sour remains of bedroom sweat,
the displeasing scented sight of
sweat soiled clothes carelessly discarded
the first of the season red spot-stained white peonies
fail to mask the bodies aromatic musks,
which are mostly gender identifiable
my sneakers hail mary, her stockings odorize the atmosphere
most unusually, nylon and lycra are strangely familiar,
prior memorized perhaps, from deep within, a ****** hallelujah,
deep amidst where, the ***** linens are shelved and binned,
before they journey to the Egypt Nile of the basement waters
the burnt crumbs of illegal in-bed brioche toast
amazingly invisible on unclean sheets,
state “breakfast in bed, was yummy in the tummy,
but next time use a big dinner plate,
down here, the burnt of the bread and the burnt
of other things (popcorn pieces)
is just a scratchiest fragrance too far,
needing a sheet wiped clean slate
even the colorless and tasteless water
absorb the ionosphere of smells,
because one does usually speak poetically,
one of us makes a (vice) presidential declaration:
she smells, I man-ually stink, each,
each glower shower nower,
open the window to the spring wet grass aroma fresh cut,
to exhume and then send away
this odor now christened,*
nameless and shameless
11:47 28/4/19
May 5, 2019
May 5, 2019 at 10:25 AM UTC
We walk the smoke-thick winter street of sweet 'n' sour aromas
amongst a throng of oriental shaded faces (such gentle souls)
who crowd little pushcarts selling scallion pancakes.
Overhead, red talismanic paper lanterns bob, enticing us
to the tap of percussive chopsticks.
We sit in awe; snack on duck-tongue; roast pigs hang
glistening; fat-fresh, ready to fry.
Waiters wheel trolleys piled high with steaming shrimp noodles
past tables of golden oranges and watermelon seeds.
Our Chinese chef prepares shredded pork in garlic sauce.
He smiles and says:
"More guests means more happiness."
Mar 19, 2010
Mar 19, 2010 at 6:35 AM UTC
*I welcome the breeze
From the distant land
Brings fresh happiness
Lifts the veil of doubt
Reveals the inner beauty
Many rich aromas unknown
Intoxicates the senses
Travels through unknown corridors
Not even the corners spared
Soul breezes along with pleasure
Some unknown music notes
Hits the heart with marvelous grace
Intermingling of two waves
Brings harmony and peace
I welcome the breeze
As I surrender to the weightlessness
My soul feels loved and joyous
Tears of joy mingles as sweet droplets
Floating with the sweet breeze
Fresh breeze from afar
To which I surrender at will*
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 2:14 PM UTC
Dear
cup of chai tea,
Oh, how you comfort me
On a rainy day when all is grey
Your warmth and aromas,
Can liberate and free
Cinnamon swirls and vanilla
On my taste buds
You make my senses come alive
Depression and sadness is easily cured
With a warm cup of chai
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 7:36 AM UTC
I adore women
I refuse to apologize for it
I like the way their voices squeak in the upper registers
I like the fashions
I like the makeup
I like the aromas
Not the silly runway catwalk Biz that relegates them as awkward mannequins
adorns them in the impractical
and cloaks them in the absurd overreaching of the tired clamoring for something
new and unique
that which exploits their lithesome anorexic perplexing job requirement
I like the way they can shape shift, alter and assume new identities
I like the fact that some have mood swings and ***
I marvel that they can give birth
I like being aware that their 'water-weight' make's them grumpy
I'm astonished that they innately ovulate with the cycles of the moon
and that the Huntress Diana inherently acquired her namesake
Doesn't bother me a bit that "it's a lady's prerogative to be late"
or that opening a door for them is considered 'sexist'
I was raised with a sister and a mother
with lace and dainty frilly things
I caused them a lot of aggravation and consternation
I think they enjoyed it - nonetheless
somewhat
I refuse to apologize for it
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 12:00 AM UTC
In department store foyers, free samples sprayed,
A collision of cosmetics muddle the air.
The olfactory overpowered by such obvious odours,
Why do natural notes disconcert you?
Not the gym heavy sodden or overworked,
Recognition of an individual, whilst eyes remain shut.
Faint trace of the familiar or frenzied pheromones,
A headiness misplaced by the cologne wearing clones
Preference for the perfumed, the artificial sweetener.
Marketed meticulously
Musk manufactured yet not made by man
Of flowers dear, of oils and compounds.
Fresh, fruity, citrus or spiced
Artificial aromas keep your own scent disguised
Society simulates this sophistication of the senses,
Masking yourself from me as you are wooed,
Accustomed to this attraction, till you let down your defences
How shall I know you when you are ****
Oct 30, 2012
Oct 30, 2012 at 6:10 PM UTC
Winding through the alleys
down to the old bazaar.
wander through the Stone Town
in the Port of Zanzibar.
The colours and the people
the spices in their blood.
Aromas floating through the air
through the neighbourhood.
The laughter and the singing,
the sparkle in the eyes.
The joy of life and living,
never in disguise.
Winding through the alleys,
down to the old bazaar.
The joy of life and living,
on the streets of Zanzibar.
Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 3:58 PM UTC
Once I watched a waterfall
Wash all my fears away
And then I thought I saw some
Happy tears of yesterday.
The moment brought aromas
Of the ocean and the sea
I lost my taste to reminisce
And started feeling free.
Around and round the bubbles seemed to rise
To bring my life today before my eyes
And as I watched the ripples rearrange.
I loved this place no less after each change.
A breeze played near my face
And put some patience in my hair
My shoulders settled back
Where once a worried slouch was there.
I might have missed this resting spot
Had I not heard the call.
The voice of sound in silence.
The peaceful waterfall.
I am not meant to swim in empty streams
Things I cannot see now must be dreams.
I knew the past as ripples which were gone.
The future is the river further on.
Once I watched a waterfall
Wash all my fears away
And then I thought I saw some
Happy tears of yesterday.
The moment brought aromas
Of the ocean and the sea
I lost my taste to reminisce
And started feeling free.
Nov 2, 2017
Nov 2, 2017 at 11:37 PM UTC
JEALOUS
Poem lyrics dedicated to Karkjinbba
in memory of pjc-rkrdd interstellar
Traveler on another mission.
~~~~~~
'm jealous of the rain
That falls upon your skin
It's closer than my hands have been
I'm jealous of the rain
worshipping in ground as you may walk on splattering all down
I'm Jealous of the waves at sea that rock your boat with her not me
spilling out on you our old wine reserved for us to spill on each others unintended wounds
I'm jealous of the wind
That ripples through
your clothes;
the exotic perfume aromas
you bought for me alone
but now she wears.
along with my diamond heart ring.
I'm Jealous of the way she combes her hair each night
looking in our ancient
mirrored vanity desk
While you looking at her
moon light to guide
may you look at me
my stary constellation
sky high glide
I am jealous of the tennis rocket
you swing to her meant
to swing back to me
Darling;
it's closer than your shadow
left behind to comfort me.
Oh, I'm jealous of the air you breathe in the same room, with her alone dancing to songs
and tunes meant for us two alone
on your master lovely bedroom;
moving dancing rdd/bba style!
Still I wish you the best
all this world could give
Love of my life.
I wouldn't sacrifice my love and life for you again though;
instead, I would, earn your love,
right back forgive me sweet love divine elite great among great,
peace be with you
As I told you when you left
In every lifetime for another girl,
you leave me
all I wanted was an airline ticket
to fly to you in Carol Lumbard's skin
Dear runner mine
poverty was my foe I couldn't chase.
but I always thought you'd come back,
or even pick me up
on your limousine
for a joyful ecstacy filled ride!
Telling me all you found without me was heartbreak and misery!
Because darling that's all I found
without you.
It's hard for me to say,
I'm jealous of the way
You're h a p p y without meeee.
I'm jealous of the nights
That I don't spend with you
watching the billion stars from our bedroom bed with your patpapa
Aquarius and my Aries telescope.
I'm wondering
who you lay next to!
Oh, I'm jealous of those sacred nights.
I'm jealous of the love
your love that was all mine
gone for someone else to share.
I'm jealous of the love
cause I wished you too
the very best
all this world could give.
~~~~~~~
For Karijinbba
By: Kear and Natalie Hemby.
06-11-2020
Copy Rights.
Jun 12, 2020
Jun 12, 2020 at 1:32 AM UTC
My love for you isn't just a feeling.
It's a civilization.
It's a group formed in unorganized noise.
A commotion of expression purposely existing
the sole purpose of you.
Living & breathing.
A jumbled language overheard.
Stenciled with each patter of foot.
Every horn honked.
Each lane clogged with the thought of you.
A foundation built from the ground up
in means to explore.
A stone age modernized.
Misinterpreted by the desire of fire.
Protected.
Built upon.
Built into the tallest building, which I call your name.
My love for you is like the plane that flies overhead.
Roaring loud in repetition.
Tedious nooks & crannies.
Places to shop, things to see.
All the things I see when I look into your eyes.
My love for you a province of sorts.
The smell seared in a pan. Best served on a plate for two.
A mix of different pastas, vegetables.
Fried in upbeat cafe, different aromas.
The chit chat different versions of me.
Complimenting the very essence of you.
A new building erected with cranes and steel beams.
Plastered dry wall.
Soon opened for your arrival
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 3:09 PM UTC
The thirsty cracked grounds
Piling up of starved mounds
All yearned, their tongues out
For the taste of rain, thunderous sound
The flowers drooped sadly before this
The green grass turned yellow and crisp
All their colours were fading away
Before you drenched them with torrential rain
So beautiful how the clouds meet
with the faraway earth, watery greet
So self-sacrificing how the skies cry
To satiate their lover, the lands dry
Thus this reunion happens once more
Each other's soul these lovers restore
But are joined together only to be torn apart
Poor cursed lovers, they're nature's art
Ah what selfless love is this!
The skies die to give the lands a kiss
And though they mayn't be together anymore
Their aromas lay intertwined; petrichor
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 7:03 AM UTC
*See how the stream does smoothly flow
Silently passing beneath branches that grow
Upon the steep banks that slant to sky
Seeking warm rays, so they can survive.
These leafy arms shade the muted stream
As it weaves its path in constant theme
Through dappled light its forms entrance
Leading the insects in merry dance.
A mossy cloak, worn by each tree
On northern parts that face the lea
And upon this moist and shaded side
The moss the cooler air imbibes.
A refreshing wind picks up and blows
Through the leaves and swaying boughs
Those rhythmic sounds add atmosphere
As the sun in evening, disappears.
The daytime kisses the night goodbye
And leaves us with a dusky sigh
While pungent aromas of mother earth
Rise to the sight of the universe.
There cannot be, a better place than this
Where one can enjoy eternal bliss
Than to stroll beneath the riverside trees
With contented mind… is heaven indeed!*
bird
Mar 19, 2012
Mar 19, 2012 at 3:58 AM UTC
Lush green forest, full of mystery yet full of magic and grace. I yearn to stalk and embrace you. To your tallest, most ancient and wise trees in which touch the iridescent clouds and orange sky as twilight falls upon, to the dew filled soil below glittering like a night sky.
Light breezes dance and sing through the forest air, leaves singing and dancing along with the breeze. Sudden silence fills the atmosphere, I hear the wind die as its song falls into a soft hum. Aromas of the ancient forest trickle up my nostrils leaving me in a state of natural relaxation. As I venture in further, I hear the birds sing their ancient songs, I see deer leap with fleeting grace in the air as if they had wings. Squirrels squiring up the trees into hiding as I cross their path.
I come to the end of the forest, as I walk away I hear the saddened, lonesome goodbyes of the forest. I look back in woe, but I know that I shall return to this lush green forest, full of mystery yet full of magic and grace.
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 12:58 AM UTC