"attractions" poems
Dearest Destined Jewel,
Of longest heartfelt yearning, Bestow on thee, Hamlet awaits, Ophelia picking flowers, Magnolia branches speaking, Beautifications of Spring.
Supreme buds of new life, Magnoliaceae of Queen bees, An enterprise of wonder, Symbolic child's enchanted play, Faeries in flight whisper attractions, Fondness, Les fleurs du mal.
Ample blossoms, Bosoms of delight, Devouring light, Little birds sing, Nestling, Chirping a languishing cacophony, Blissful unawareness, Nature nurture the soul.
A slip then fall, Nearby church bells distract, Into abyss fallen, Elevated body all at once, Floating amidst flora, Drowning, Petticoat woven dress, Resting on fresh valley water, Immersion, No contention, Hamlet awaits.
© Sia Jane
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 3:38 PM UTC
Iguana of diamonds,
Sand sea and sun,
Little children in sight,
Attractions of light,
Natives of love,
Decorative cities, what night.
Island’s of the Bahamas beauty as can be,
What more fun than playing with dolphins in the sea.
Creative costumes, dancers so bright,
The music dramatized, Feel the rush it’s a site.
Nothing more beautiful than the island themselves,
Well except the people willing to give help.
Pineapples, peas and rice, pink sand, flamingoes, and some conch salad,
Not forgetting the “KALIK,” cause’ “IT’S A BAHAMIAN TING”.
Blue, Black and Aquamarine, was just described to you,
All in the Islands Love.
Come and enjoy the exciting experience too!
My Bahama Land!
©
Nov 4, 2010
Nov 4, 2010 at 7:33 AM UTC
Visibly wholesome with internal infractions
Humans predisposed to fatal attractions
Remain cautious & constantly selective
In a world where hearts are pure but minds are deceptive
The mind screams lust while the heart craves affection
The root of true beauty lies within imperfection
For every blossoming rose, is at least a single thorn
& every heavenly angel has a deeply hidden horn
Thus a man's flaws aren't defined as his impurities
It's the illusion of perfection that equate to his insecurities
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 5:24 PM UTC
On the land molded by footsteps and ruled by obnoxiously bleached clowns,
Visited by swarms of neighborhood guttersnipes and the opulent from uptown.
Allured by the traditional Irish circus music and the grinding of rusted gears,
To arrive at dawn and to leave only when the night sky is tired of fireworks and flares.
Skittish and gleaming eyes would roll on the floor, struck by daze and lost in wonderment,
At the marvel of giant steel rides and god forsaken and socially foretoken genetic mutants.
The word of a woman with two faces and the boy with a tail would make any catholic priest run.
Amusing the rational ones, alongside the man with elastic skin and the girl with the forked tongue.
The opera lady with outlandish proportions and tumorous lips sings to break a piece of cheap glassware.
Little do people know,that the magician’s red gloves are actually stained with blood of rabbit that disappeared.
Their noses get caught in the medley of fragrances from the exotic perfumes shop,
Blended with the saccharine tang from the stall that sells candy floss and soda pops.
Indulging over the overly priced confectioneries at the stall of the baker with the forbidding grin.
Try it a hundred times,try it a thousand,you’ll never get the fifth one right in the game of rings.
People will come out screaming from the haunted house,only to laugh about it later,
Little do they know,that skeletons that drove them pale and white couldn't get any realer.
They’ll jostle and struggle to make their way through the crowd to various rides and attractions.
Hustling to navigate through the maze the carnival is, encountered by countless illusions.
And once your body wears out and senses give in,that’s when you've truly entered the carnival state of mind.
Your ears stinging ,nose stifled,tongue baffled, eyes exhausted,and your sense of judgment blinded.
That’s when my masked act begins,the most profitable act at the carnival,
Diving into the heart of the crowd,to draw an act of brilliance lasting an ephemeral.
Slithering across the crowd in a different disguise every hour,concealed by stealth.
Sneaking into every nook and corner and slipping my furtive hands into your pockets for a little bit of wealth.
Only to dine with the clowns and the carnival family at the haunted house at the end of the day.
And of course, rabbits for dinner,if the baker may
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 3:13 AM UTC
I met with a man today,
although
not so much a man as….
a boyish adult.
He told me he liked me,
or perhaps “loved” would be
a better description.
I was showered with things that most
people would love to hear constantly:
Compliments.
I…..am not one of those people.
Now, that’s just the oversimplified version.
A more detailed explanation would go like this:
I met with a man today,
although
not so much a man as…
a boyish adult.
We went out for lunch,
and left there around five hours later.
For the first three,
we were doing all right.
Managing to have pleasant conversation
we even discussed our views on religion.
The last two hours
however
I am not sure how I managed to endure.
He told me he had "fallen in love with me",
and that every word I spoke had him falling deeper.
I explained that I have absolutely zero interest in any such things
*(love, romance, all that jazz other people crave,
you know how it is)*
I however, am not capable of feeling those sorts of attractions.
(don't want to be either)
As I spoke, he would reply by saying he was falling harder...
that I was pretty, handsome, cute, beautiful….etc.
Not a word of what I said went into his head.
***And I knew it from the expression on his face,
that I was only being viewed as something to conquer.
To…..”fix”.***
That made the compliments even worse.
***I hate compliments to begin with,
at least ones in regards to my appearance.
For me, they are one of the worst triggers
on my extremely long list.
So is being treated like I’m broken.***
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 3:20 AM UTC
So, along comes Love, who brings Passion, and Desire. Love ends up tying me up, Passion blindfolds me, while Desire takes control. Now we are ready to role. These ladies forced my hand, no plans to console. Love keeps touching my heart, has a strong hold. Passion is a work of art; touches my soul. While Desire has her *** up, legs are spread apart; trying to take control. Love keeps on tempting me, such a tease. Passion keeps begging pretty "please", while she's on her knees. Desire won't listen, But she's dying to be pleased. They blowing my mind; I'm not talking a breeze. Loves so distracting, to busy multitasking. Passions is upset, didn't like my reactions. Desire is still her, looking for some action. Love, left with Forgiveness, and Passion left with the Compassion. Desire left me for much stronger attractions. It doesn't matter, all three, were just distractions. Rather post it on Hello Poetry, probably get better reactions!
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 3:00 PM UTC
I see,
Your words speak louder than your actions.
Cause,
Opposites attract, I'm feeling your attractions
Lovely,
Are your eyes, how I miss them.
Beautiful,
Full lips, use to **** and kiss them.
Your,
*** taught me passion.
My,
Body's chemical reaction.
Our,
****** our satisfaction.
*******
Came, we didn't reach them.
Soul-mates,
Reacted, we didn't teach them.
Pain,
Over time, made us victim.
Memories,
won't leave my system.
Better,
Off with them.
Pleasures,
envision.
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
This is only our second encounter
but all hesitation is gone from your actions
I walked into the lair of a merciless monster
igniting a domino of reactions
my cheeks flushed as I'm held by this beast
that I find myself pinned underneath
hot breath pours out on my neck
as my ears are grazed by your teeth
my heart pounds against your chest
your hands roughly comb through my hair
I squirm, submerged in your arms
continually gasping for air
your mouth desperately searching for mine
I finally succumb to your kiss
the problem with a fatal attractions,
is deciphering what's hell and what's bliss
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 6:47 PM UTC
My Solace
when every aperture is a tunnel narrowing,
a light pin diminishing when nearing,
when the desk drawer yields up unused theater tickets,
for performances concluded yesterday,
when the denouement is nothing new but worse,
revealed in the coming attractions trailer,
when the rusted unborn poem notion is almost done,
but remains unpublished,
for no beginning, no title, can be found,
Then I recall the cornucopia days,
when poems spilled forth like
there would never be a when they wouldn't,
I revisit my old friends, couplets, twins and triplets,
seeded inside every tear, happy or sad,
sweetly and freely,
my old friends, reread,
words rearranged in new combinations,
old poems, plants bearing new fruits,
re-titled all of them, one name,
a collection entitled,
My Solace.
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 3:59 PM UTC
Loving you is like going on vacation without any money.
Away from all the tourist attractions.
The best views all in walking distance.
The places no-one likes to go alone.
My heart no longer my own.
Following where ever you go.
With legs of its own.
It runs like a teenager,
Street after street .
Making faces, having fun.
Your voice a constant favorite heard on station after station.
My heart jerking in place, smiling.
Dancing to the sound.
Loving you is like going somewhere new.
Welcomed by friendly faces.
Shown the sights left off travel brochures, travel channels.
Loving you is a constant happy hour.
Strawberry & Mango margaritas on the house.
Loving you, being my favorite part
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 5:42 PM UTC
~ i am a preamble, seeking to evolve ~
~ my every emotion, thought and deed, cascades, consequence ~
~ your every touch forever impacts, in cascading consequence ~
~ we are all sacred, equal in our worth, may we each, behave so ~
~ paradoxically ~
~ our security is rooted in our acceptance, of insecurity ~
~ our cyclical attractions, and repulsions ~
~ are the forces which bind us ~
~ while i don’t understand all the motivations ~
~ or all the machinations ~
~ of the forces applied, to divide, conquer and control ~
~ i deem they are parasitic, and thus ~
~ reliant upon our cooperation, to survive ~
~ when i haven’t worked myself out in perfect coherence ~
~ i’m in no position to pass judgments upon any other ~
~ in absence of fraud, deception or manipulation ~
~ embracing sovereignty and free will ~
~ i vow ~
~ to wage peace, cooperation, creativity and love ~
~ to seize opportunity to nurture ~
~ our garden planet ~
~ as a humbled gardener ~
~ there is no spoon ~
~ it was only an illusion ~
~ there are no sheep ~
~ just tactics to divide, and distract ~
~ we are only ~
~ children and parents ~
~ friends and lovers ~
~ sisters and brothers ~
~ cosmic conscious explorers ~
~ shaping our reality ~
~ nurturing OUR Garden ~
~ namaste ~
Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 2:15 PM UTC
Cotton Candy Man Poem
(6/7/2014)
He was simple sugar,
spun on hot air,
soaked in pink,
a tasty treat.
He was cotton candy.
I would wrap him around my finger,
like I could coax a ring out of sugar and thin air.
To have felt him melt in my mouth,
each time the tip of my tongue got a taste.
He was cotton candy.
He was a carnival with all the best attractions.
but balloon darts pop when you pour enough money into the game.
but a dunk tank is just a plunge into shallow depths, a break from the sun.
but elephants should be free, not tamed by fire and humans' greedy desire.
but a clown without their makeup might as well be a less creepy comedian.
but won over stuffed animals are just like cotton candy,
a squishy substance when you need a stable solid.
Step right up!
Spotlight on the star of our circus show,
see the cotton candy man.
His heart made of sugar,
a toxic substance.
His breath's brevity enough to set off cotton candy's chemical reaction,
scorching hot air against pink paint,
there is nothing sweet about being spun.
Dyed in bright colors to deliver a warped reality,
he was seemingly a healthy vibrant,
unlike the poison within.
He was cotton candy,
and I, a circus ******
craving him, freshly spun.
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 4:46 PM UTC
To the beautiful sweet girl of my attractions. How I would love to be in intimate comfort as companions. To hold you close, look in your eyes and study each others auras radiating in illuminating shades of color.
Taste each others moist lips as we kiss, in a sign of intimate affection. Share our hearts feelings. Experience new things, and share each others wisdom; of our lives journeys as is.
Know why you feel that you have to enhance your beautiful cute face in those makeup colors.... Is it to enhance what is already beautiful? You attracted me not only in your physical elegance but your nice personality.... What you say means a lot.... For your opinions do matter! ....
I would love to have someone like you.... As a companion to care and be cared for.... Not to overwhelm your heart, but to keep it full when others pierce it with negativity....
To tickle for your laughter with and without a touch.... You and I together would make my dreams a reality.... As friends it is half complete....
My secret is revealed.... Feelings out in the open for you to decide...
May this not shy you away if not get you closer.... I would like to go places to hang out as my companion/potential lover, or a close friend.... I would like to be here for you as ether or.... You as my girlfriend would flame the spark I have for you in my heart....
Jul 14, 2011
Jul 14, 2011 at 12:26 AM UTC
As a maze is to the eye, I am to all. Winding and wearing, my walls impossibly tall. Here, turns are the
Words
and dead ends the Actions. Spirals are the days, and red herrings, my Attractions. With each
Who dare
Enter,
Two Paths
They All
Choose.
One abandons
All Hope
The Other,
Nothing
To Lose.
But none have made the journey,
none to the
core.
For all who enter,
leave and say
"no more! no more!"
Here I have planted this garden that others accuse a maze.
A beautiful creation covered by haze. But all that is seen is monstrous,
a trick of the daze.
Months and years at the center have been all of my stays.
Here I will watch and wait for the One who makes it, and is amazed.
By all I have built, all I have dreamed and every aspiration and desperation has seemed
to build this
wonderful,
wandering
place.
You who hear my case,
I invite you to take that space.
Be the One who makes it, leave all others to be commonplace.
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 12:37 PM UTC
I'm standing at the crossroads.
A perfection of ultimatum,
A decision to be made.
I feel regret and remorse,
To choose is to leave one behind.
Flip a coin, heads or tails,
In the air I'll decide.
Don't go with the first,
For the second wouldn't exist.
Debating with possibilities,
Conflicting attractions.
Pulling me towards one.
Pushing towards the other.
Epiphany.
What if I never choose?
To stay here in the plus.
The road less traveled.
The coin lands on its rim,
An everlasting spin.
Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 6:40 PM UTC
RNA or DNA polymerase, an enzyme, protein, attracted to
promoter molecules in the polypeptide chain causing a zipper
motion and transcription of the code, a duplication of codons,
introns and exons, and so it goes, sharing and unsharing electrons.
These attractions and repulsions, coming near and going far
in nanounits or light years, fail to explain things permanently
but make possible the technology to live long and well, with
personality.
It is a form of governance, the governance of elements, elements are
now
apparently our gods. Learn all you can about their laws, their names,
their needs, read their poems. Only the mentally unusually sound
would,
given this knowledge, agree to the process of mitosis and fertilization.
However,
organisms go round then senseless via involuntary respiration.
Therefore, Pilot Oh Pilot Me.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 10:56 AM UTC
as the sitting model
for a father
I am actual
sameness / groin
goes thumbtack
repetition is not doom
not to plant
not to animal
life
whether gang sign or godspeak
it means my child
imagined
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 8:59 PM UTC
Even if
nightmares, cats, leaders, *** beauty, hugs, feelings, melodies, technology, communication, life, abandonment, longings, mornings, electronics, kingdoms, followers, humiliation, darlings, hyperventilation, depression, Alonedom, ghosts, trundles, Hell, gravity, tickling, hearts, unicorns, twins, education, lost ones, ink, medications, pavements, thoughts, souls, suicide, walls, hatred, alcohol, oceans, soles, music, misspellings, transportation, buses, guts, Heaven, time, attractions, ***** hands, blindness, organs, dreams, bodies, distances, understanding, currency, energy, love, spaghetti, contentment, happiness, tears, fire, people, oxygen, tongues, children, peace, death, papas, zombies, homicide, blood, kisses, drugs, families, caffeine, mamas, space, parchments, baked goods, economy.
didn't exist,
I would still wish you would
But you don't anymore
so nothing matters.
Apr 22, 2012
Apr 22, 2012 at 2:20 PM UTC
When I was roughly your age,
I too sought to break the cage,
And I had that newfound rage.
When I was posed with attractions,
I too was brought to distractions,
And I had the highest visions.
When I was counted among the cream,
I too sought to keep the bigger dream,
And I thought that I had the better team.
When I was expecting my team will help me learn,
I too turned a robot and stopped trying to yearn,
And I knew not that there was more than money to earn.
When I was supposed to learn flying,
I too was totally busy in dreaming,
And I knew not how later I'd be feeling.
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 9:46 PM UTC
Rush,
Hype,
Energy,
Drive.
New York rush is it's own lust.
Got cars,
Buses,
Trains,
all sorts of Planes,
Attractions,
Lights Flashing,
It's New York Action.
That's my life all right
N-Y-C is all I see
Manhattan is where I be.
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 10:51 PM UTC
I tried to leave
but his hands held onto mine,
like a lost traveler,
kept in an ancient city.
He asked why
I had to go.
And I told him,
"I want to go back home".
he looked up at me,
with eyes like attractions,
which I want to visit
and take snapshots of.
My fingers traced his face
one more time,
like I'm tracing a map
of unvisited destinations.
Then he pulled me into
a homely embrace.
With his voice like a warm
and protective blanket said,
"Stay with me.
I'm your home,
And I'll be your vacation."
May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 5:08 AM UTC
I entered the display case
of people educators
subsidizing snobs
the multirich and companies
among tourists and inhabitants
who want to be seen
in the museum café and
with sophisticated pastry lard
the conversation with careless clauses
they quote from an authority
whom nobody has to understand
to get the intention
of the praised artists
The shop was crowded
Spotlights on show-pieces
fancy coffee table books
and chic presents
for the season and the next holidays
Especially the past
is on sale, postcards
of the attractions
and sights of the city
interchangeable
like the collections
which graduated stylists
cast in international moulds
to magnets for visitors
Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 2:48 AM UTC
Come one, come all, to the circus of dreams!
Where nothing is at all what it seems!
What once was real is now amiss,
Melted into waves of sparkling bliss.
Come down to the circus that doesn’t exist!
Just follow the path trailing through the mist.
The attractions aren’t boring or dead,
They seem to be magical instead!
Bring everyone to our little cabaret!
It opens at the end of the day.
Go into the shadows and out of the light,
And see all of your wishes begin to take flight!
See a performance of a wonderful kind!
Everything here is from the depths of your mind.
Your most amazing moments, and your nightmares too,
Will come to life in front of you!
And though we’ll be sad to see you go,
You can always return for another show!
We’re here to entertain you to the end,
So visit us when you slumber again...
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 5:18 PM UTC
The sun is resplendent and warming.
on this bench in front of these shops in a town we’ve never been to.
Italy’s a lot nicer if you’re in a small town.
I’m watching her peel an orange
slowly,
meticulously
she’s removing the skin from the meat.
She reminds me of a boxer wrapping his hands
before a big fight.
The last moment of meditative solitude
before the **** hits the fan.
She’s finishing with the peel now, setting the pieces on the bench next to us
as she splits it in half, an aerosol of juice sprays from the orange
she hands me one half
and begins to eat the other herself.
I peel the segments apart, eating them slowly
and spitting the seeds into the gutter.
she’s smiling,
the juice running down her chin,
and neither of us are speaking.
Later I’m smelling the citrus on her fingers
as she runs them through my hair;
it’s barely long enough to run fingers through,
and I’m thankful for that.
I’m thankful for that orange.
I’m glad I saw that small town,
the one without tourist attractions or snakeoil peddlers
I’m glad my scalp ever knew her citrus fingers.
it came,
I saw,
it went.
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 2:28 PM UTC