"aswirl" poems
FLAME-Heart, take back your love. Swift, sure
And poignant as the dagger to the mark,
Your will is burning ever; it is pure.
Mine is vague water welling through the dark,
Holding all substances--except the spark.
Picture the pleasure of the meadow stream
When some clear striding naked-footed girl
Cuts swift and straightly as a gleam
Across its ***** ambling and aswirl
With mooning eddies and soft lips acurl;
Such was our meeting--fatefully so brief.
I have no purpose and no power to clutch.
Gleam onward, maiden, to your goal of grief;
And I more sadly flow, remembering much,
Yet doomed to take the form of all I touch.
1.8k
(in life)
who am i to warm a cave of darkness with my lust?
or assume your darkness mine to dissipate?
as if a sacred candle burned behind the windows of my heart
and ****** its light through tip of flame beyond
,above the piercing point to spark our confirmation in a universal eye
invisible, but seen as heat you flail about
and cause to quake the melting, sliding crust i am
you have wandered by to rupture me from my serene espy.
to quarrel with mycenterself i turned into myself i am a fool,
how can a taint intention claim essential gravity to good?
encumbered with a blinding zeal
i almost rage amid to satisfy
irrupt, and only drape with words i barely see defined
to justify the greed
in unknown passions gathered out to sun,
eyes aglint of golden maxims worn
by public distorts, magisters of lies
spilling over paths..the voyeuristic farce of virtuosity and virtue mating there
commodities of ****** pride and shame
that cater to ambition's lurid lure:
massively conjoined our worlds, aswirl
transform the pulsar-vortex at the base of me
from threaten-fount to million-twiching node
it sears the face from all our superficial doubts,
gluts us writhing mercy in oblivion.
...transparency collects an inner soot
as we devour red-tip wicks in wax we puddle with our sport--
the outer glass respires steam into the winter nights
--hot against the skin
in flesh embarking in that window *** at last,
we smudge our bodies over every icy pane
--entwined, concupiscent flames
to blacken out the world we claim as only there for us
.
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 1:57 PM UTC
Oh Glenda (Miz Gee gee)
years elapsed since, I didst hawk
verboten fruit adrip
from yar verdant bough,
thy strong craven raven
doth still twitter and flip
sans thy testosterone switch,
where woody pecker missus grip
ping re: egret ting prospective
relationship nixed thee
as gull friend material, hip
mistress, though heron eye did pay lip
service verily orgasmically quip
yes...wren doer ring
more'n commit Freudian slip
which peeping cardinal tip
towing thru nested tulip trip
gave balled oriole peck whip
ping lil *** pistol be
friending chirping ***** riot
inserting thingmabob
after pants sigh did un zip.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Egg gad unlike rob bin duck cradle
yar mature red breast all aswirl
asper a stationary dreidel
mammary ducts mine mouth pursed
yar ******* mine gums did ladle.
Only in memory, aye
hungrily thirst and thirstily hunger
fort deux aureole dye
still affecting this gab
bird, who didst deign
as milquetoast guy.
Whenever this birdman alone
his thoughts metaphorically drone
worm wayward toward
***** thatch, where
hello kitty doth purr and groan
of quintessentially
***** coiled hair moan
ning softly as thee
bared naked lady lies prone
admiring pinkish puckered
def flesh tone.
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 2:44 AM UTC
she does not speak to me often in this way
she is the virile silence of walking truly like meadows
their time is always perfect and infinitely perfectlessness
how skies do not sing birds but are only masters of truth
but she is tender and fierce she shows me that they are innocent
when, I, confounded, aswirl with origami of things past,
she shows me a bestilled flapping silence of forgotten things
she does not speak often in this way
when her hands are like eagles tending planets
there is a secret river her eyes are filled with
these pupils of newborn seeking first sight
its graves and their strolling kisses no clock dares lie another tick
she is brightly curved; night seeks to master her sleeping motions
there is the skin of all salads I imagine I came from
when she is gone I feel rain graveyards feed to oceans
when water braided through myths and legends and lies
is truest perfect lover, but no perfect lover is so tender and fierce
she has taught me in this way how I am
if I am a perfect child, then I am a perfect man
but she whispers to me
"this is why the wind is so filled with sleep"
I know why the wind is the slave of kites
and why balloons are thoughtful, secretly joyless,
but filled with bad dogs and hope
when she touches small flowers and leaves them be
I know why birds are most beautiful in flight
gracefully jetting terrifying rivers
she walking strums wild instruments into me
I wish to play like birds but only newborns are masters of truth
but she whispers to me
"this is why the wind is so filled with laughter"
.
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 12:20 PM UTC
No frills tonight,I'll tell you why we hold so tight,
to yesteryear and yesterday and...and last fuckin' night...
before the sky broke open,
lately I'd been vaguely sorta hopin'(not doin shit,just hopin')...
that we'd get the magic back,that we'd bring back all the craic
when it was you for me and me for you again' the world,
I'm starin at the wall my mind aswirl,
Then I'm starin' thru a window to the past
when we KNEW that we would last
forever,never ever fall apart,
never ever pulled apart,
by life and time and fuckin' work,
we knew we were the ones to make it work!,
and now I'm staring through that window to the past,
like trying to piece a champagne glass,
back together when it's smashed,
*I'm kneelin' here with ****** fingers,
tryin' to make these memories linger*
REALISIN' how you'll linger there,
your scent...your smile...your shedded hair(seriously I find it EVERYWHERE!)
sorry hon I lost it there(but seriously your frickin' hair!)
your company was past compare,
I close my eyes and see you there,
I pound my fist against the glass
praying that you'll see the danger see the future Nuclear blast,
but you're just blissfully gracefully strolling past,
holding me,enfolding me
emboldening me like nobody past or present ever did or will,
the thrill begat the skill begat the quill of you so deep in me,
thought we were our Destiny.
you're under my skin like a Sinatra tattoo,
but enough bout me...how bout you?
Jul 30, 2019
Jul 30, 2019 at 10:38 PM UTC
With colours gone
Grey, forlorn
The sky a puddle, muddy morn
I have no tears
I give thee thorns.
Where laughter lived
To once exist
The room aswirl, silent cyst
I have no tears
I give thee mist.
When passion played
And love was made
Fingers clasped and grasped in vain
I have no tears
I give thee reign.
Apr 6, 2025
Apr 6, 2025 at 7:52 AM UTC
Here I sit
with much chagrin-
Trying to figure out Windows 10
Changes have set my mind aswirl-
as I venture into this
'Netherworld'-
From all the hype-
it was "made in heaven"-
But, please dear Lord-
Give me back my 7.
copyright: richard riddle 09-22-15
Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 10:45 PM UTC
While wintry air blows,
Aswirl with busy gleaming,
The quiet woodland drapes
With a white, misty teeming.
The falling, hushed deep
Gives a sleep
To the striving
Of creatures and the wild
Entangled roots,
Brambled and sprawling.
Air silvering, hearts warming,
Breaths fogging...
Elowen,
Fairy of the forest cold,
Goddess of the Winter way of old!
She-Sprite, dancing between the trees
Of our friendly woods,
Fleeting amidst the venerable Stand
Which silently
Protects our neighborhoods.
Her rarefied breath,
Her crystalline eyes,
Her graceful hands
Casts an enchantment --
A spell known well, within in our souls.
Our spirits, adrift in dreaming, know her
Song's whispering and it thrills us,
As we sleep
Beneath the whitening silence
Of her wild winter
Deep.
Dec 9, 2017
Dec 9, 2017 at 4:53 PM UTC