"bagatelle" poems
Phlox Linum,
Phlox Linum,
som satin south alyssum,
vivace kiss
weave violin wind ******
caress calendula
bloom bow bagatelle
bloom allegro
linen Primrose!
Phlox Linum,
Phlox Linum,
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 11:23 PM UTC
Bare feet standing backwards on doctors scales,
the weighing game; I can't make head or tails,
of how I'm here; dragged from my mother's car
Earlier at the charity bazaar;
I slipped & fell on the church floor, & now,
that's just a mere bagatelle anyhow.
Tonight, I just wanted to escape fast
I truly believed this was in my past,
but the Devil & God fight all the time
all that comforts me is a nursery rhyme.
And so, I sang: *All around the pink spire
boys chased girls & ran until one did tire
girls & boys in boxes, the key secures
a bolted lock. True love always endures.* © Sia Jane
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 8:15 PM UTC
One’s mind will buzz
And your stomach a-boil.
In the time we took to drink
One took the same to reach the sink
And even though your mind did toil
It will always merely come back to a fuzz.
And once set upon disaster,
The body reacting as if it is scared,
You will see it lynch your mind,
Turn you around and cause you to bind.
Act now, teeth are still bared.
One will survive it ever after.
Down the bottle in a devious clear glass.
Time equivocates all that is true.
It was a time to remember that I forgot.
It lasts an era in space spanning a spot.
The curved figure likes waterloo
And there will be nothing apart from the glass.
The time I’m spending brooding
Will be nothing but a bagatelle.
For it amounted to nothing
And I sat hoping for something.
But I am never going to be versatile;
For example: The smudging is from my drooling.
May 30, 2011
May 30, 2011 at 2:41 PM UTC
Obdurate and profligate from years of anomie,
I have become hallow due to this sessile pons asinorum
Incurring solely affliction, I know only discontentment;
My existence is damnation, and damnation is my existence...
Enmity and sorrow are the sole tenants of my heart
No matter my anguish, these demons nevermore will depart
Presiding within my occult and dingy soul;
Anon my antipathy will irrecusably attain control
For hope is naught but an opaque postiche-
A whim that dissipates, even when you beseech
-The Bagatelle
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 5:42 PM UTC
dissonant from the ground that ached
of frostbite,
fractured and mistress of
the Sargasso
she birthed the thin ghost of dawn
in legato
drawing the trembling line of
her lips.
fervent, the bulbous-born sky
washed her
in fat drunken clouds of
gray ships
climaxed in the aqueduct of
erratic dusk
and emerged as deity of
bagatelle and dust.
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 11:46 PM UTC
a fool of curiosity
i never understood
why medicating mentally
was questioning the good
cannot explain it more than this
except to also say
that who you are can walk with you
but also walk away
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 12:23 PM UTC
Listening to Finzi
On Tuesday morning
Sudden dense snowfall through February branches
Remembering beautiful Donna
With her red hair
Colder now
Falling , falling , never touching
As clarinet and piano
Take the lonely road.
Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 5:44 AM UTC
My body takes the form of a prehistoric man, my tufts of hair are distasteful jungle cave drawing; even deliberately and slowly stumbling, I stumbled into Times as a strange eccentric! I deliberately frown at my worried forehead - as before a far-reaching task - so I can still think calmly! If those who wanted to know me sincerely looked into my eyes, who sinned with tears and whispered with True Pearls: I could watch my reborn sunset within me!
Based on pre-designed cat-and-mouse war plans, we have the ability to make a living; who else can listen to my whispered words of help ?! Millions of wet glass ***** are resting in the chubby cracks of my face, and many hopeful smiles often seem lost. "In this present age, it is as if the crow, the jackal, who is digging his eyes, is farming on the same rotten beam!"
And this repressed tremor echoes constantly in me, as if my Soul was bursting deep in its tormented excavation somewhere in its little bagatelle cavity somewhere! Now, as always: I try to escape from everyday challenges with rules and the rituals of selfish rites, if I can't count on Someone who will lead by hand with charming redemption! In dim mirrored silence, I am still wasting in front of prohibitive barriers and I would wait my turn until doomsday!
Jan 13, 2021
Jan 13, 2021 at 2:18 AM UTC
Brexit me here
The more I read about Brexit in mainly
English papers I detect an unsavoury aspect
that is a sense of (perhaps) an unconscious
the feeling of superiority taking orders from
foreigners; the so-called free press has been
hammering away against EU rumours and
blatant lies, this because of the “Free Press.”
Is not free its leadership has an agenda
that is to destroy the benefit an EU membership
brings to Britain, and that is how 49% elected
to leave by readers who believe what they read
and vote contrary to what is best for them.
But not the perfidious Albion has a hidden
plan, they dream of a sovereign England
ruling the world. It is a futile dream and not based
on how the world is today.
England( I exclude Britain) is a small island in
the sea whatever greatness she achieved in
the past is welcome but ultimately forgotten.
The point is another nation could care less if
England is in our they don't write about it skip
the pages that have the name Brexit as an internal
affair that is a bagatelle in the world.
Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 4:09 AM UTC
A Flying Bagatelle
Through the open door
come flying
a sparrow grey
of no distinction
it sat on
the printer
looked at me
quizzically
the phone rang
startled it flew to the
window
caught in the curtains
I got it lose
carried the bird
to the door let it go
that was all
no epiphany
nothing mystical
just a bewildered bird
a ringing phone
and a magic moment
Nov 14, 2016
Nov 14, 2016 at 5:18 AM UTC