Bachus poems on Hello Poetry

Impeccable Space Poetess Oct 2015

Once upon a Time there lived a peasant
whose poems were whisperings of nature.

Nature aims toward growth, abundance
and decays softly back to succulent soils.

My homeland is not for your feet to step
upon, you belong to surrealistic cynicism.

My psychedelia does not approve of horrors
mundi and skips on every third classical tune.

What was impulsively chosen, can be a mistake
in pompous rituals on established compilations.

Apologies, for all the misdeeds lacking a true
appearances. You implied my life is a great lie.

No, it's not! Sometimes it is a knotted charade,
noose chameleon dreams wanting to create in

Castles build upon puffy clouds, youthful Ars
Poetica meeting a Pat Metheney's wonderland.

Beck is a phenomenal artist loving green lands.
Bachus was a goat. And Artemis protects us all!

To live Beautifully means to live according to Universal Harmony.
Wishing you all, to find the most beautiful, creative and truthful Path toward genuine Life's Art Poesis and bountyful moments of love shared with...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#love #poetry #life #dreams #art #music #letters #serenity #upon #poseidon

Impeccable Space Poetess May 2015

Epic Creativity

A Poet
Has To Write

A Poetess
Has To Create

Poet = You
You IS ThePoetess

So EpicI
Am

HALLELUYAH
That I Know :)

You'll
Write
Wonderfull
Epic Sonnets

Jet -lag
Notebooks
And Nooks Mysterious
At The SilkenNoose
Neurotransmitting

Black and Red Ribbons
Around the +++Tulips
Taking Epic Tales
For Granted

Give Me Mythos !!!
My God

Mein Gott
Mio Dio
Mes Dios

Poetic
( Then )
I'll
Inquire
inquire
DEEP

At Illy's
Leaned On
Leaned on

My little left Elbow
Dreaming Vis a Vis and Elba
About The Harvest Moon
About My Maine ****
About My Golden Mine
About Thy Golden Mine
About The Architecture
of "Solid & Quality"
Ink

Where All Started And Why
There At The Starry Lit
Night Sky

Enamored
Non
armored
Palms Under
This Universal Tiny
Marble Skull

Givin' A
Primal Protection
To Primordial Operations

Evoking
HIGH
Sparks And Glitter
IDEALS
With Not Doin' Much
With Myself

Lying
Within
Listening

To The Symphony
Of Tender Waves
Kissing The Shore's
Sharp Fjordic Surface

Dying With Each
Momentum
A Bit Further
To The Future
Fulfilled

Yearning Away
Abstractrions
Abbrevations
And Breaths
And Beaches
And Bachus
And Bach
And Us
To Reach

Roerich's Perfection
And Sublimity
At Poets
Raa
Realm
For Immortal Infinity
For Immortal Infinity

To
Unveil Some Secret Codes
To Untangle The Solitude Days
To Love This Immence Psychic
Improbability
To Be Ego
Earnest
To Be(:

Give This Wings The Will
Let The Spirit Fly
Let Our Souls
Collide
And
Bounce
And
Build
And
Break
And
Roam
On The Right Organic Roads
On The Write ******* Road

Sporadically
Outbursting
Poets

Explosive
Intuition
Poets

Insightfully
Tranquill
Poets

Divinational
Emergency
Poets

White
Rebels

Tear Streamers
Self Haters
Dark _Matters

Jolly good Kiddos
Serious Endeavours
Volcano
Poetos

Peripathetos

Love dwellers
Celestial Movers
Energizers
Appetizers
Bitter lemons

Juicy Tourers
Turist Poets

Classic Cats
Rhyme Sprouts
Free Verse Trenders
Mixing Blossom Blenders

Heart Poets
And Poets of Heartwarm Writes
Epic Heroes Love Believers
And Belly Vowel Dancers

Phonem Seekers
Cadence Riders
Filthy Reachers
Archaic Attackers
Cosmic Trees

Knowledge
Seeders

!!! You !!!
Emerge
At Once
As Others

Hereon
Hello

Poetry

Do You Do ?
Thank You !

!!!
Fine
Structure
Capacity
Some Stamina
And Mastery Skills
As A Present Poetry Beacon
Shining Bright For All The Cunning Greenhorn+s

A Cup Is Raised
!!! For All Of You !!!
To Drink Up The Invisible
Potion Of Stunning Inspiration
And Some ****** Genofondic Insight

Insignia is
Incomprehensable
Ingenius IS

Each
Wonderous Write
Wonderful Writer

To Dig That
L'Art pur l'Art
Isn't there Per se

L'Art is
Ars Poetica
Is

A Marvellous
A Marvellous

Dreamy Touch

OF
Poetic Purrs
And Witty Whiskers
ABonus Poeticus

And A Rattle of Spiral Bones
And A Bottle of Rhyme
And
And
At The
EndsEnd

You'll
Have To
Work Till YoU
Drop

You'll
Have To
Let The Muse
See You Soulborne
Let me see You -> Naked

Light As An Eagle Feathers
Bereft
of
Every Emotional Baggage
Release Rumors And
Rumpaging Rage
Not Only And
Exclusively On
Rare Occasions

You Know What ?!

I'll Inspire Thy Insightfull-Ness
Loch Thy Leisure Lake Luckilly
Clean of Creamy Caleidoscopic
Conundrums

You
Wonder
Wonderful
Ponderish
**POETẼSS

POETẼSS

:) A Tribute To All Fellow Writers Here On Hello Poetry !!!!
It Is A Fantastic Poetic Portal (:

!!! Long Live Poetry !!!

<3
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Love & Poetry
<3

#love #poetry #free #poets #amazing #verse #amusing #innovation #witty #tribute-to-fellow-poets

Bathsheba Sep 2010

Pills and Wine - A collaberation between Chris G J Smith & Bathsheba

I
Found
The
Belladonna
In Nana’s bedside drawer
I slipped some in my pocket
To even up a score
Later
He came knocking
With that smirk upon his face
Yet another ****** night of being
Defiled
and
Debased

My
Lovely
I
Call
My wicked
Ways are always here
Taking you for granted
Having my way
Because
There is
Nothing
You
Can do

I set the scene
In such
An
Alluring
Seductive
Way

Fool

Thought I was finally coming out to play

Incense swayed
Candles burned
He drank the drink
Then
Tables turned

Vermillion visions slice through the stagnant air
Cleansing me of
Ignorance
Naivety
Despair

She doesn't know
That bottle of wine
That
We
Drink
That her
Glass
Holds
A Cyanide pill

So

This smile

She thinks
Is
For
seduction

Hides

The plans
In
My
Head

Something’s not quite right
I have a
Strange sensation
Why am I experiencing
Hell
Fire
&
Damnation

Evil starts to slither on my heated skin
Maybe he just slipped me a ***** Mickey Finn?

Feeling now bedeviled
I take another sip of wine
Bachus sits there laughing
Regal and divine

Where did this migraine come from?
But I am here laughing
As she drinks her fall
****, I feel sleepy

Could she have?
No!
She wouldn't be that shrewd
Women can't out think a man
So she smiles with me
Rubbing her eyes

I ask her to dance
It will be her last dance

I sense strong arms caress me
Music fills the air
Fluidity of movement
Lays my soul stark bare

I beseech the cold dark eyes of this man that I abhor

As

We

Slowly

Slowly

Slowly

.
.
.

Concertina to the floor

Bethany Lorekeeper Davis Oct 2011

Renn Faire

Faerie wings and fox's tails,
Pan horns and leather bras,
Thronging people in thronging crowds,
Dancers dance and musicians play.

Tight hard leather and lots of skin,
Bodices, corsets, and lots of skin,
Furs, feathers, and lots of skin,
Showing, revealing, flirting, lust.

Pan dances as the dancers dance,
Bachus drinks as the drinkers drink,
Aphrodite spreads her legs,
Filled with lust as the people play.

Fun and laughter, dance and play,
Enjoying each other, enjoying the day,
Music and shouting, milling and food,
Golden throng and darkest moon.

Watching the people she feels at home,
Fair and hidden, shadow and light,
The Faerie Queen on a throne of bones,
The revelry worship, all for her.

Jenn Nix Dec 2014

I prefer Holidays

The son of a carpenter climbed a cross
And Saturnalia was lost forever…
Slaves, adorned in masters clothing
once drank out of the golden goblet and goosed the mistress
vied with paupers for King of Fools
banged pots and pans, slept with sloe-eyed boys til morning
poked, prodded, pampered, kissed, and loved again
The solemn lords of the city peered from their heavenly contemplations
and felt, like a worm in the mysticism of direct communication with god
a bit of remorse, a hint of resentment against the marble steps,
a yearning for the dance, for the abandonment of the senses
for a pageant worthy of those ***** old gods

MITHRAS, BACHUS, DIANA, DISCORDIA.

Before Christmas pushed jostled and shoved the holiday
out of the way,
we opened our homes to all the poor
they become the masters for the day.
while we ran behind with dishcloths and wild cries of
DON”T BREAK THAT
and infused with a small perverse pleasure
took our masks down for a night -
I will play sly servant lass
while my staid husband is forced into corners
with women who struggle to keep their teeth in
And their children fed.

If there were no Jesus,
the tree would still go up for the Norse
the presents still go out for the British
the children still adored for Saturn
the feast still cooked for the old Germanic tribes –

humility, guilt and being saved, saved, saved
saved from the drunkards in the streets,
saved from the firecrackers, the happy children, the Yule log,
saved the togetherness, the topsy-turvy of this most celebrated
happy out-of-control neighborly Solstice ancient block party-

That came from Christ.

Thanks Jesus, you old scrooge.

#christmas

John Edward Smallshaw Sep 2017

The Bachus bomb

Myths like yesterdays
hide in a cave on some
Greek isle.

we play canasta
it makes time go faster
but the journey always
slows us down.

The streams that we once paddled in
have dried up and have been filled in
making mockery of childhood plans,
Now
superstores and market vans delivering new sets of plans.

Let Minotaur come take this son and chomp upon these bones.

It's okay 'cause it's Monday and there's ploughing needs be done,
see
even furrows in the field run far away
like yesterday sat hermit in its cave

who will save me?

Someone gave me sixpence
( past tense )
a Christmas dream that dries up
like the river and the stream.

Taking a hard look at the secondhand paperback book from the charity shop
I read on
but it's all gone
and we know it.

neth jones Jul 2016

A Racing Brain

Put Sleep to Death
And let's purify madness
We shall practice giddy boils of imagination
It would show up a Bachus shambles
(By comparison, an amateurs stumble)
Put Sleep to Death
And bright
And quick lives could flare
Brief celebrities
Hastily added
To this new chattering evolution
There'd be little tongue for morals
And sorrows would be
Swift experiments
Once experienced
Abandoned
Uncovered as unimportant
Let's make all lives
What they really are
Let's put Sleep to Death
And be recognised
As blurs
As shots
As stars and grime
Firing in this universe
This playground
This raw wash of activity

#death #sleep #brain #racing

Blue Flask May 2022

Melancholia

My tinny laugh fills rooms my lungs could only hope to achieve
Merriment and the soul of old Bachus
fills this weary frame
I'm told I'm so full of life
The life of the party
So happy that I exhale living
I'm living
I am alone in my room
I'm living
Haggard blonde hair and purple eyes look at me in the mirror
my face is red, my marbles are bleeding
Thoughts of stories and characters I love with all my heart
emesis on pages that used to be blank
I talk to myself almost constantly
words and phrases repeated in a Tourettic staccato
Blinking away the inner rain as I walk into stores
"Sometimes I just get hit with an intense sadness
Where I want to curl into myself
Light the forge of my heart
Warm these dying limbs"
I am told I look so happy
And I wonder if I perhaps should have gone into acting
I feel so often like the cliche
asking myself in between podcast and music and ****
"It's...never going to get better is it?"
and I've spent so many years fighting to answer that question
I've spent many years fighting for the answers
to questions that I don't want to ask
I'm struck by fits of inexorable sadness
and two decades of reflection has given me nothing but these words
written in dark rooms
with my smiling face
the life of the party

John Edward Smallshaw Oct 2024

Arbitrary

Trying to unwind is like trying to find Atlantis, it's a hit-and-miss thing,
one cannot but help imagining stretching and snapping,

Wine? oh, and I could so I do and more than one which is two or more,

I'm relaxing and my
back's getting eased
my knees are ******
I need my tummy tucked
but the wine insists
that the boat I should be on
is the one that I missed,

and yet
before I forget
before Bachus attracts me
into one more debauchery
and
I fukin forgot
*** you merlot
with a hard T
( see what I did there?)
and If you didn't do you think
that I care?

— The End —