"basks" poems
The Eid is bustling with joy
come let’s give it a try
f
l
y
away!
To the deathless groovy paradise
floating high on the elixir flow:
The triumphant joyous wave
streamed up from the secret bottom line!
Up above the lapis lazuli sky.
A pair of butterfly basks
in the sunlight
quietly indulges in style.
It goes on in slow motion
illuminating the night a firefly
perches on a slice of the Moon
flanked by the moonlight.
But you and me
we will rhyme and chant
in our lovely mother tongue.
In the same original lingua
like ‘Adam speaks up and all
angels listen in paradise’.
Come let’s give it a try
f
l
y
away!
On the wings of the moonlight
we will
s
a
i
l
away!
Ambling by the Moon
we'll **** through the starry nooks.
Eyes open and gently perched
atop a star for a moment or two.
We will see miles of galaxies
over the moonlit lakes of the blue
playing cool ravishing lutes!
The spring night is in bloom
and the cute sleeping beauty
wakes up playing the flute!
Musical half lights filling the sky.
Come let’s give it a try
f
l
y
away!
We’ll drink sharaban tahura
the holy wine of paradise
and once for all we will
k
i
s
s the death goodbye!
Our story will fill the divine soil
the heaven's flora and fauna
each and everyone will shine on our page
no houri will ever say finito singing our tale!
As Adam did it first stunned the angels
telling the nature of all things in paradise.
We will do that once more without a smirk
this time we will see the loving Creator!
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 1:04 PM UTC
My narrow cave is zero colour
a thousand winds that blow over
only blow kohl yet to see an eye.
The sunrise beams out in the morning's hush
as do the sun basks in the swift uplifting rush.
Ah, only to miss out again like yesterday,
there was a cave it tried to highlight.
Then lost me in the dark found a Moon
heavily tilted yet over a shady turf.
Every star eying upon it knows that
tomorrow again, this will host the sunrise!
Dec 9, 2018
Dec 9, 2018 at 11:40 PM UTC
Come let’s squeeze in
while the sphere’s moon-lit cheek
turns her other sunny-cheek.
Come let’s mingle in the splash
while the sunup basks in
swims across the dewy green.
Come let’s try it again
while we are alive and breathing
there is a time for everything.
Come let’s be creative no ocean is deep
while a pearl shines in the seashell.
A handful of earth is wrapped
in the midst of a colossal airy space,
there is still a wonder in ****** green!
Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 10:38 AM UTC
Glowing bright in the dark
is the moon the half of the sun!
The sun from the heavenly blue
colour in the midday rose to bear the light
and basks into the other half of the night.
Goodness knows when but God willing
the ancient bird of time once will fly.
Numbering the numberless stars
filling the one halve the half of the sky!
Maybe each star is a shining piece
of one half cut halve that's yet to reunite.
As the cream always rises to the top
and God promised the believers paradise.
Perhaps then without cutting in a fraction, once
paradise is packed with the folks of the good ones
there will be no more partial decimals of the pi!
I wonder then how will it look, a full moon picture?
If then the forever intact paradise lends a mirror
of the ‘immanent feminine’ In Shaa Allah
God willing that will still be my better half!
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 8:24 AM UTC
O liquid temptress of my dark dreams,
Your ****** expanse calls me
And I would sail ever on,
Were it not for the elven maid,
Who calls me, calls me
She binds my heart with a lily white tie,
Never to be broken, save by my torment
Ever to be torn between the treesand waves.
And I travel for ever, for ever,
To reach the elven maid's heart which lies,
Beyond the liquid temptress' grasp.
The elven maid in beauty basks,
Her eyes as auburn as hallow woods.
Her hair as lush as the foamy tide,
With ruby lips and honeyed words,
She calls me, calls me.
She breaks all enchantments on me,
And calls me to the elven land.
Her voice awakens the fallow lands,
And fills my heart with unearthly joy
O liquid temptress of my dark dreams,
Your ****** expanse calls me
And I would sail ever on,
Were it not for the elven maid,
Who calls me, calls me
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 3:46 AM UTC
The frost is still there,
Throttling the rhododendron leaf,
And ice stalls the dissolve
Of the stone-like snow,
Yet I am happy.
The sun-rays are almost Etruscan,
Filtered low through lace and blind,
Like that ***** of sunset on Irene’s hair
Sad “couleur de feuille-morte”.
Yet it is sultry.
I can open a window
And breathe the warming air
Finches flock close, careless,
Now desperate for food
And pluck menescent fruit
Off an ice-bound branch.
In the distance, a cardinal sings.
Thick drapes are drawn aside
And geraniums strain toward the light.
In a nook outside the door,
An old cat basks on a corner of sun.
He yawns, seeing me, and strolls across the snow.
All nature seems to wait, but poised,
For the final unfettered token.
Will it be a sudden, favonian breeze?
Or the robin’s unrelenting noise?
Telling us, “Winter is broken”?
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 10:34 AM UTC
Greatness leaps, all knowing,
Goodness keeps the rivers flowing.
Greatness asks, "this tall?"
Goodness parts, "your call."
Greatness basks in its marvelous story,
Goodness, all content in its virtuous glory.
Seek afar,
Greatness knows no bounds.
Goodness?
Only deep within, can it be found.
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 8:09 PM UTC
You are like the sun
Everyone basks under your reflection
Soaking up your warmth and affection
Without you,
the world would be
a very cold and bleak place to live
a world I wouldn’t want to know
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 10:47 AM UTC
1146
When Etna basks and purrs
Naples is more afraid
Than when she show her Garnet Tooth—
Security is loud—
3.8k
one who basks in the soft heat of grandiose moonliness
growing fatter on honeyed imaginations
their sicklysweetness soaking through the pores
of countless generations
their minds invade a collective consciousness
burning arcs of inspiration – torches of the collective vision
in drilling through mutual experience
great gaping black holes of creation
effigies of super-egos, lynched on altars of desire
neon flames and disco lights, emotions on a massive pyre
maiden voyagers on never-ending cruise
sinking in foreign oceans – their endurance dupes
minor gods of destiny and fate they await
dionysian ****** of wine and food for thought
and hearts that beat in unison
a schizoid muttering that enlarges and deafens
manic pleasure that spins and spins
in eternal circles of pleasure and pain, loss and gain
opioid mists that dream a dream of everlasting name
an addiction an obsession that sumbits
to some masochistic drive
to empathize.
- Vijayalakshmi Harish
06.09.2012
Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
Sep 6, 2012
Sep 6, 2012 at 4:55 AM UTC
Night is but a word for the darkness that roams with men and the lands.
The song of the winds sparkling with a woman's tears unshed.
His blanket drapes her in the pitch of night.
A cure basks within the lady's eye.
Salt water.
The tears, made salty by the churning sea.
Cry the river dry.
Bewail until all is nigh.
The night is coming.
The darkness foretold.
Beware the madness
with a daggers fine edge.
Night may be just a word.
But the wickedness is true within man's might.
The sun will rise to cleanse the lands.
Daylight breaks and the word changes.
The faith of the worshipers dancing amongst the shining vivid rays.
The danger has passed.
Be still her fleeting heart.
But be wary,
dear maiden of mine.
For the darkness of the night will soon befall again.
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC
❝ while he runs from darkness
she purposefully turns off her light
he saves her flicker and makes it burn
like a california fire guided by his wind
she spreads through the mainland
curving through the hidden crevices of the world
her scorching heat;
felt and seen and adored
as he runs from the darkness,
her light continues to burn a fire blue
the shadows slowly melt away from her touch
and he feels her warmth and basks in it
she thought she has saved him from the monsters
she thought she has saved him enough to stop running
but the shadows crept back in
slowly, until it consumed him entirely
and off the ledge he went
her savior,
reduced to nothing but a pool of dusk
and emptiness
and sadness
she was but a flicker but he preserved her
a flicker which continued to burn in her heart
so she savored the beauty of his grey tones;
found and accepted his darkness
in all the bright places ❞
Mar 23, 2023
Mar 23, 2023 at 3:32 AM UTC
*Upon entrance into the realm of reality
My first image basks in the bliss of your smile
You knew that bearing two offspring was sheer destiny
All the love that you bestowed was definitely worthwhile
When I’m in pain, depression, or sorrow
You welcome me in a warmhearted embrace
Such care heals my soul for a better tomorrow
Your unrelenting support propels me in the life race
Your grace branches to lands beyond reckoning
Your unique ability to serve others is a true virtue
Your duties are far from easygoing
You deserve much more than the credit accrued
You fought valiantly when things turned gray
You should have a nice rest on this Mother’s day*
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 9:52 AM UTC
The autumn winds ***** her mercilessly,
as idle hands lunge for delicate petticoats.
Their ugly, pockmarked howls pinch her deeply
with each new limb they expose,
until her tears drop like leaves, unheard
and become soiled.
By the winter, she’s left leaning awkwardly
like a slapper against a lamp post.
Her body but scattered, bent baguettes,
freeze-set with the frigid, nightly chills,
which preserve her stark immodesty
and her malign revenge.
Yet spring adorns her with tentative protruding buds,
glazed like freshly shellacked fingernails,
as her body itches with the swellings of youth
and foliage fastens frills around her chest,
summoning the dewy-peach lustre of virginity.
Now she basks in our wanton, forgiving glares.
As the summer teases, she writhes Lolita-like
in a raincoat that clings to her, just so.
Her barely concealed fruits spilling out,
as the sun caresses her skin hotly, until she ****
with that cacophony of lilac bells gawping, grape-like,
ringing out the sweet moans of her petite-mort.
Oct 7, 2020
Oct 7, 2020 at 10:53 AM UTC
She sits in the back of classes
Answers all the questions
As if there to her all alone.
She annoys those around
Like no other.
She spews out another answer,
And sits back with a smug smile.
She thinks she just a little better then the rest.
She basks in the glow of self satisfaction,
Looking disdainfully down on those around her.
All the While insulting those who laugh or smile,
as if their Happiness annoys her most of all.
Do you think when she looks around,
And realizes she has no friends,
That she just supposes she’s too good for them?
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 4:27 PM UTC
I can see you with your wings
That the Angels gave to you
I can see you with the scars
in a crimson shaded hue
I can see you have your wings
I think I always could
You always were an angel
I thought you understood
I can see you flying high
soaring eagle scout from God
gliding past my house
with a fluted piping nod
Soar out to the glaciers
to the highest angel nest
you've earned your lovely wings
just like Michael and the rest
I see you have my wings
They're waiting in your hand
a song for me you sing
so glorious and grand
it's almost like you planned
your hourglass of sand
was running out
you see I have my ring
my angel from above
and while you have your wings
My finger wears your love
One day I'll take wing too
to heavens gate I will fly
no longer burning pain
no longer tears to cry
until then
we have this love
those wings will have to wait
I already tried to ask
no answer came from Fate
shaded feathers my love basks
I hope you take your wings
and fly places you want to go
So when I get my wings
those places you can show
our destiny you'll know
until then....prepare a place for me.
Cherie Nolan © 2016
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 10:49 PM UTC
lonely is an artist
when he crafts his work,
lonely is an artist
when they need a muse,
lonely is an artist
when she basks in misery,
lonely is an artist
when lost in ones tragedy,
lonely is an artist
among their greatest work,
lonely is an artist
in their happiness,
lonely is an artist
when they craft their best.
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 9:58 AM UTC
A full Moon on the horizon of a powder-blue sky
The gentle breeze of Dawn passes me by,
caressing my cheeks like a lost lover,
soft as the clouds which in the distance hover.
I turn around, my back to the Moon:
the melody of daybreak begins its silent tune.
The first gossamer threads of Dawn's embrace,
cobwebs of brightness, Light made of lace.
A lonely bird towards the Moon flies,
hoping in vain to stop its goodbyes;
and my romantic soul melancholically sighs,
attempting to imprint the image in my eyes.
As the sunrise ripens, a celestial fruit,
it robs the lunar ambience, grabbing its loot.
And it basks in the riches that it slowly steals,
in brilliant ombre shades, as the Moon - defeated - reels.
The night's companion quietly fades,
ethereal pallor on now greyish shades;
no more powder-blue, grey turns to white -
it's the bed of clouds, prepared for the nightlight.
You've done your job, illuminating the way,
to travellers and dreamers, lest they go astray;
Rest for a while, take a little break,
until Sun retreats - then you can awake'.
The Poets' Lamp, nocturnal glow,
you'll shine again, with stars in tow.
Aug 28, 2020
Aug 28, 2020 at 12:20 PM UTC
The sunflower basks in the light
My light
And I bask in its beauty
The sunflowers laugh is contagious
I can't help but laugh with her
The sunflower makes me happy
I make the sunflower happy too
The sunflower and I are happy together
Best friends forever
Aug 27, 2020
Aug 27, 2020 at 9:44 PM UTC
Can't you feel my screaming heart?
I feel all yours and it's unbearable
To know everyone's intention may seem ineffable
Though my passion is emotion and empathy my art
Dwelling silent in a crowded room
To the right a pursuit of lust
And my left a lack of trust
Empty grins with their facade and doom
Another item has been stolen
My peers in an unknowing uproar
I see the culprits guilt pour
From his weary eye and coven
The ***** swoons the love of an unworthy patron
She gazes at me with a tempting question
Attempting to construct my envy and affection
My will is stronger than that seducing notion
The lonely man makes a joking inquisition
All the rest see it as a laughable gesture
I look with sad eyes to see his slouching posture
He wants to die in his pathetic position
The muscle bound dunce smacks his lips
Glorified as the acrobatic conversationalist
Strapped men in shackles and girls can't resist
His compensated shortage of yays and yips
A quiet smile looks on with a perfect mask
Playing pretend with an inglorious burden
Faking a life inside of her chaotic garden
Of hollow theatrics in which she basks
There goes the lad with his flippy hair
The little ladies want a picture with the fellow
Oh you're so rad the flocking lasses bellow
And, you wonder why I don't seem to care?
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 10:07 AM UTC
Along a winding meadow way
Circuitous and pebble strewn
Towards a brook and down a slope
As morning sun outshines the moon
An expectation clogs the air
And all about the flowers turn
To face a wave of tidal light
To catch ablaze but not to burn
A dusky fragrance lingers still
And gathers calm as mercury
In solemn spots beneath the boughs
It lies in perpetuity
The weaving breeze is powerless
And banished by the canopy
Abiding there a myriad
Of all of natures panoply
Drift along now deeper still
A clearing basks amid the shade
An isolated paradise
A lonely little woodland glade
Where early spring regains the lead
And ferns uncurl a welcome hand
The nettles bare their jagged teeth
And offer up a reprimand
A dragonfly takes up my path
And leads me into humid heat
She weaves amid the reaching grass
And safely guides my straying feet
Between the rocks and rabbit holes
That litter my vicinity
The creatures in my path retreat
All sensing my proximity
A fallen trunk now blocks my course
Like driftwood on the shoreline, beached
Its peeling bark is spiraling
And pale in the sunlight, bleached
Enfolded in its limbs I am
As if they shaped themselves to me
As though a plan of ages hatched
And formed a place for me to be
**
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 9:02 PM UTC
Invite me to a masquerade held in a large hall
Most guests would be in suits, those you can see
Almost all are dark males, all quite are tall
All can't dance , because all of them are me
Few in this hall are some of my peers
One of me in a mask basks in their wonder
To them this mask is wise,and one without fear
The face behind though is foolish a coward and a blunder
Few in this hall are some of my enemies
One of me in a mask delights in their distaste
To them this mask promises violence with energy
Behind is the face of exhaustion and no anger to trace
Few in this hall are some of my mentors
One of me in a mask indulges in their praise
To them this mask is one of potential and future
Beneath lies the face marred by failure and laze
Few in this hall are some past lovers
One of me in a mask savors their longing
To them this mask is a story with a knight and a tower
But beneath Is the face of a lier gifted with talking
Few in this hall are my fellow Christians
One of me in a mask flaunts his humility
To them this mask is of true religious commissions
The face behind long faced spiritual sterility
The last in this hall are my family
I face them with half a mask of strength
To them the strong half mask, and the true half face of apathy
The half mask hides a face exhausted with it's life's long length
Feb 12, 2020
Feb 12, 2020 at 3:00 PM UTC
*The cloud and Sun are playing hide-n-seek
Sun peeking from the veils of clouds
With it linings shimmering like gold
Clouds silhouette coming to light
Responding to the warmth of the Sun
To give way to the morning sunshine
Resplendent Earth basks in the ambiance
Ushering another day*
© Amitav (Radiance)
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 11:05 AM UTC
She walks toward the sea
afraid of the deep,
but excited to see
what lies ahead.
She runs through the forest,
sun streaming through the tall
green trees.
She finds a meadow
where flowers abound.
She smiles
and basks in the quiet.
But it is not quiet for long.
She stumbles and falls,
and fear rushes in.
Threatening.
Piercing.
Gripping.
Pulling.
She fights
as hard as she can.
She wants to go on.
She wants to open her eyes
and feel the warmth again.
So slowly
but surely,
she picks up
the pieces.
And she goes on.
Aug 6, 2020
Aug 6, 2020 at 12:46 AM UTC
Crisp summer breeze tickle wreaths of May blooms
Yellow flats traipse blocks where blue ocean looms
Serene waves greet shore's walls in fervent kiss
Moon's afterglow brush the scene in pure bliss
Fine sand witness time like dateless heirlooms
Brine's musk basks nightfall in coastal perfumes
Woven foams' calm poise in fond reminisce
With each cycle's ending, they go amiss
Red heels graze concrete in sultry whispers
As the salt-rimmed glass plays in my fingers
Gotcha!—my hapless victim for tonight
Caught my breath, it only faintly lingers
In front I stand, a door with four ciphers
"Aphrodite, save me" begins the plight
Apr 6, 2020
Apr 6, 2020 at 12:04 PM UTC