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Shofi Ahmed Jul 2018
On the edge, the living earth
dared to mimic Queen Fathima's worth,
the Queen of Heaven's grace and poise,
her footsteps, a blessed path of choice.
This way bedewed with divine light,
a numinous destination of sight,
graced by thousands of prophets of God,
a sacred path that all should trod.

In Allah's name, she descended,
on the Night of Ascension, her path transcended.
from the Night of Measures, she came,
her frame, heaven's dark matter, a mystery untamed.
A divine dot in terra incognita,
a fondly-folded bud where time doth bloom.
If one can see up to where it rose,
Paradise sways towards this uncharted way
the only guide, oft is a glimpse of Queen Fathima's eye!

The only asymmetrical golden ratio,
steps forth amidst the symmetrical prophet flock.
The earth makes way for her in awe,
as she moves in sequence with the golden lock.
Cloaked in mystery, she reveals
her unique, divine relation to the divine.
Makes measured moves at the forefront,
shining the light ever drawing closure to God.

She is so pretty and classy, a paragon of art,
a sunrise amidst the eternal night.
Her beauty is a burning fire in her shadow,
she is 'Zahra,' pure light, a luminary dynamo.
The only woman in heaven and earth with no shadow!

The great flock of women mirrors the earth,
following each atom on that angled girth,
aligned perfectly under the waxing full moon's worth.
As they approach the behemoth's might,
atoms beneath their skin explode in their finest sway,
and beneath Fathima's feet, vibrations take flight.

The ocean billows up, floating with the clouds,
Like choreographed dewdrops hanging low on the rose,
Ready to shower down on that hot spot like honey-drops.

Even the Moon on the horizon follows suit,
Ah, the lunar punter rows down, loves to sip in a drop.
the sleeping beauty wakes amidst the moonlit night,
silver dances in her eyes on every star in sight,
as the Moon sails down from its celestial height.
The seven seas sing out in the dark,
bubbling with exuberant fireflies' spark,
who gleefully rock the moonlit boat,
towards the cup of that pretty little drop.

Poetry in motion, the sea on the ground
a beauty reflected in the Moon on high
the storylines jump and dance around.
Painting the colors of the winds in the sky
over the shady grove, the rhythm goes on
rains down from the sky on that sweet spot
singing the sweetest of all title songs.

Never before was a woman a prophet of God,
but for the primitive woman, the leading lady,
the sharpest cut above the rest, the leader of the pack.
Sayeedatun Nessa, Queen Fathima,
Heaven holds no secrets, always an open mirror!

Secret is Fathima touched the bottom of the earth first
it's in her elements a pure unique one otherworldly love
the womankind scores that only entering paradise!
"There is no night, only déjà vu moonlight
the pious homemakers, these veiled tuberoses,
were hidden gems to the sublunary fireflies
who will be open moons in heaven's secret skies."
The Huris gaze upon mesmerizing beauty,
but their eyes turn to the real McCoy:
the women in paradise!

The universe debuts a primitive water dew,
Big Bang, soon Fathima drops in it her two hairs duo
enkindles the inner dark energy in the dark matter mole.
Absolutely pure, nature wakes up get the building rock
nothing like it never seen before, treasures in Earth's core.

The Queen's first impression hooks on
the motionless earth in the dew makes the first move
polished golden spiral is in bloom expanding ever more
the last thing the sun can't do can't take its eyes off
after the Big Bang big fireworks still (Ratqan) a black mole
thicker than the black moon, gravitates the cosmos! 

Walking in the dark ahead of the sun and the moonlight
one step up on that shady way the Queen cemented on,
perfectly circle pi-locks, the earth takes a Ma pause.
Until God willing Fathima's locks shall finally bottom in  
the long haul of time squeezing out paradise upside for good,
the heavenly Queen shines the light in the secret end of God!

The planetary ebb and flow are on the way heaven
the planet earth is the only steppingstone.
No matter how many times they try on
there will still be an unturned stone.
Until the very one, the original woman,
the Queen Fathima steps on.

Dots connect in her presence
the nadir and the zenith perfectly intersect
once for all that shall mingle in her perfect circle
without a labyrinth gap in the whole
making ‘As above, so below’ pure Scientia scenario.

Where the Queen stands on
heaven will open its grand door!
No more reverse engineering the original
God willing Fathima will step on
on the last turned stone.
From the very one greatest woman
paradise starts from there on
from beneath the mother’s foot!

She is so pretty and classy, a paragon of art,
a sunrise amidst the eternal night.
Her beauty is a burning fire in her shadow,
she is 'Zahra,' pure light, a luminary dynamo.
The only woman in heaven and earth with no shadow!

The great women flock mirror the earth
treading across every atom on that angle
perfectly aligned down the Moon.
Until those beneath the skin atoms
bang, explode, on approaching the behemoth,
the vibration beneath the otherworldly Fathima’s feet!

The ocean billows up floats with the clouds
like choreographed dew droops hanging low on the rose
just to shower down on that hot spot like honey drops.

Even the Moon on the horizon follows suit
ah, the lunar punter rows down loves to sip in a drop.
The sleeping beauty wakes up amidst the moonlight
silver dances eye on every star in the night
the Moon is sailing down.
The seven seas sing out in the dark
bubbling with exuberant fireflies
that would gleefully rock the moonlight boat
over to the cup of that pretty little drop.  

Poetry in motion is a sea on the ground
the same is known as the Moon in the sky!
The storylines jump ever more
on that way over the shady grove.
Painting the colour of the winds
the sky rains down on that spot
singing the sweetest title song.  

Never was a woman prophet of God
for the primitive woman the leading lady
the acute cut above the rest, the leader of the pack.
'Sayeedatun Nessa' Queen Fathima
heaven is no secret always an open mirror!
Secret is Fathima touched the bottom of the earth first
it's in her elements a pure unique one otherworldly love
the womankind scores that only entering paradise!
There is no night only Deja vu moonlight
the pious homemakers these veiled tuberoses
were the hidden gems to the sublunary fireflies
shall be the open moons in the heaven's secret skies!
Huris look on mesmerising beautiful
eyes on the real McCoy the woman in paradise!

The universe debuts a primitive water dew,
Big Bang, soon Fathima drops in it her two hairs duo
enkindles the inner dark energy in the dark matter mole.
Absolutely pure, nature wakes up get the building rock
nothing like it never seen before, treasures in Earth's core.
The Queen's first impression hooks on
the motionless earth in the dew makes the first move
polished golden spiral is in bloom expanding ever more
the last thing the sun can't do can't take its eyes off
after the Big Bang big fireworks still (Ratqan) a black mole
thicker than the black moon, gravitates the cosmos! 

Walking in the dark ahead of the sun and the moonlight
one step up on that shady way the Queen cemented on,
perfectly circle pi-locks, the earth takes a Ma pause.
Until God willing Fathima's locks shall finally bottom in  
the long haul of time squeezing out paradise upside for good,
the heavenly Queen shines the light in the secret end of God!

The planetary ebb and flow are on the way heaven
the planet earth is the only steppingstone.
No matter how many times they try on
there will still be an unturned stone.
Until the very one, the original woman,
the Queen Fathima steps on.

Dots connect in her presence
the nadir and the zenith perfectly intersect
once for all that shall mingle in her perfect circle
without a labyrinth gap in the whole
making ‘As above, so below’ pure Scientia scenario.

Where the Queen stands on
heaven will open its grand door!
No more reverse engineering the original
God willing Fathima will step on
on the last turned stone.
From the very one greatest woman
paradise starts from there on
from beneath the mother’s foot!
Jesse stillwater Jul 2018
the Silence became
like an old lesson learned

a broken heart intones
a voiceless song
resonating a refrain of Silent echoes
in a voice that never heard a word
yet spoke so clearly ... lingering
in realms of subtle ambiance

soundless remnants
stacked neatly as
building blocks;  
another brick in a wall,
already too tall to see beyond—
growing like a bunker
without a sense of safe harbor

as the Silence became
time and space,
a stillness beset the melancholy air
as if a world without song
foreboding an unpredictable storm
beget vestiges of broken windfall,
reticent leftovers hushed after a gale

s i l e n t l y

an acorn fallen  — became a mighty Oak

a wind-broke twig — became a weeping willow

a neglected child — became mother nature's son

the Silence became
        a blind prophet —
in its voice held forth
smatterings of truth
and undertones of an unrequited
fool’s hope

the Silence became
a strong, abrupt rush of wind
uttering voiceless exhalations of breath;
a hovering dawn mist
    befallen after a summer storm—
surrounding all in all
bedewed in a feigned peace


... the unabated sounds of silence
become


Jesse Stillwater ... July 20th, 2018
Thank you or reading —
This Morning
The Golden Sun Rose
With a Midas touch
Smiled at the Skies

In Scintillating Colours
Bedewed the Atmosphere
In a Lush Orange Squash
A Rush of Pomegranate Reds
A Spread of Fiery hot Saffron Threads

Far Away
Billowed
The Feathery White
Pristine Kashmir Clouds

The Mirthful birds
On the wire , Chirped
A Mesmerised me ,
Revelled
In the Early Morning Bliss

Nature Imbues
Taking away the Sky's Blues
Sunrise experience on 21/12/2017
Shofi Ahmed Jul 2022
Up or deep down
which way is that
bedewed primrose path
the way forward?

Even the last breakthrough day
on the way heaven lingers
on sundried rosy evening clouds
let alone the roses that
never leave the ground.
Maggie Emmett Aug 2016
At Vernal equinox, the Sun crosses
over the plane of the Earth’s equator
and equalises the night and the day.
Then will the Emerald Dragon awaken
from his hibernation beneath the earth.
Rising in the jade forests of Ghizhou,
this yin creature transforms the cold, dead land.
Primal and powerful, he gathers the Qi;
melts the mountain snows to ribbons of fire
igniting the frosty hillsides to growth,
fuses each thing with verdant energy,
revives again the seed, renews the bulb,
sprouting tender shoots juice-rich and sap-full
Shy blossoms set to bloom and burst with fruit
Fresh scented breezes ruffle foliage
maiden ferns shiver with their thrill and ******
Grasses and reeds bedewed and beryline,
murmuring and humming low and dulcet,
dancing and swaying at the river’s edge.
Roots of every tree draw deep from the earth
Magnolia and Frangipani breathe
and pant out fragrant honeyed lusciousness
Spring sparks and quickens, kicks and is alive.

© M.L.Emmett
One of a series of poems on Elements
Although not Spring here in the southern hemisphere until 1st September, my snowdrops are up and about (revved up, no doubt by global warming) so that is my sign Spring is near.
The door was shut. I looked between
  Its iron bars; and saw it lie,
  My garden, mine, beneath the sky,
Pied with all flowers bedewed and green:

From bough to bough the song-birds crossed,
  From flower to flower the moths and bees;
  With all its nests and stately trees
It had been mine, and it was lost.

A shadowless spirit kept the gate,
  Blank and unchanging like the grave.
  I peering through said: "Let me have
Some buds to cheer my outcast state."

He answered not. "Or give me, then,
  But one small twig from shrub or tree;
  And bid my home remember me
Until I come to it again."

The spirit was silent; but he took
  Mortar and stone to build a wall;
  He left no loophole great or small
Through which my straining eyes might look:

So now I sit here quite alone
  Blinded with tears; nor grieve for that,
  For naught is left worth looking at
Since my delightful land is gone.

A violet bed is budding near,
  Wherein a lark has made her nest:
  And good they are, but not the best;
And dear they are, but not so dear.
Gleb Zavlanov Jul 2014
My heart now aches with sleepy dreariness:
    A dreamy wake from whose dull, soothing spell
I can’t awake, nor can I sleep to bless
    My dreams with profound ecstasy as well
    For all recurring visions, sweet and deep,
         Have turnéd to a black and empty void,
               And all the stepping stones of pale night
         Are clouded by the mists of murky sleep,
     Bedewed with memories that I enjoyed:
The visions with which I can’t reunite.  

My mind now pines for all those moments when
    Endured had love and bliss before slow time
Had bound such moments once and then again
    Shall bind more dreams and memories, sublime
    Oh, vista of my dreams, unseen, unheard
        Your brow is laid with shawls of quietness
            Your pinions are held tight with the chain
        Of all my visions; fly then, flame-plumed bird
    And sing such sacred song you can’t express
Once I now free you from my wilting brain

My tears are of ripe joy and bliss’s ruth
    And though my days are thus outright expelled
I shall keep in my core, the flames of youth
    Which once I had in early years, beheld
    Sweet memories, ye shaking leaves, adieu
        I bid you well in winter and in spring
            A-flickering before fate’s icy breath
        And though, no longer, shall I see all you
    I’m glad you flew upon nostalgia’s wing
And warméd my cold heart before my death
© 2014 Gleb Zavlanov
Debra A Baugh Jun 2012
Did you behold my form Milady?
then, well you know
the intensity of these coal black pupils
that flame with inner fire
or look away
and claim victory,
smiling memories
whispered sighs
moving ever onward
exploring
mastering all their ways
my hour approaches
grinning broadly
teeth clinched
to step forth
clothed in shadow

yes, indeed, Milord,

I couldn't advert thy eyes;
from the vestiges of
your smile, such memories
leaves traces of love
forever in my heart;
as each glimpse beckons
a taste from your sweet
mouth, fore, our hour
has arrived, casting
warmth within
bodies entwined;
languishing in light
of morn

by the light of the blue moon;
I made love to you,
amazons naked between earth and sun;
the only way left, the only position never tried
and we went together,
to a place of ancient curses
and secret runes
an island
in the sun

fore, which, I cradled you against
thy breast, whispering liltingly
of your tenderest touch
teasing thy entirety
as each breath upon
me raises every cilium
in ecstatic bliss
sealing our hunger
as lips and
tongues french kiss

and kiss to kiss return
hungry to taste this moment
from thy lips such sweet nectar
awakens in me a deep burning lust
to consume and be consumed, fore,
in some cataclysmic consummation ******
encompassing want

translucent you become
your hands a shimmering touch
your breast as crystal goblets glow
when cradled in each hand
your lips of wine quench my thirst
but kindle my own fire
my skin in fire itself erupts
and melts my heart's desire
a transformation has begun
this path the only key
to hot torrid love that
all the same erupts in fire

igniting in thee flames
of thy lust burning
with excitement as lips
touch upon sweetness
of thy petals blooming
accepting nibbling nips
to sepals quiver in want
of feeling bedewed
mouthing, sipping
its nectar as a bee
hovers ripened blossoms
as thy thirst quenches
in inebriation of honey

makes me wanton to taste
the salty taste of your
******* and the trail of
our love down to your navel,
then your thighs, as my
hand is damp with your essence
sliding gently up your inner thigh,
my beard becomes a
thousand sparks of
power on your petals bud,
your lips slide easily open
to my fingertips,
my tongue swims deep inside ~

within our throes of passion
you've fulfilled thy hunger;
I pant and gasp clinging to our
pleasurable ride, as in thy delirium,
you cuddle me within your embrace
still loving me from neck to waist
at a hungered pace; entwining
again in haste

I kiss your neck, your throat your lips
as my manhood ease within lotus petals
sipping sweet nectar covering him with
dewy freshness and your lips suckle mine;
thine own nectar on thy tongue doth grace
deliciously; pushing shoulders downward
I feed upon you thus, fueling our lust all night

within your gift of pleasure; thy body
shivers from each tentative touch so, soft
light, re-igniting deeply with each
******; manhood feeds thy lotus
thou nectar, fore, in thou wetness
I cryingly moan appetitively in succor;
as thy hands roam, thy lips find
thine deepest desire of want

as thy mushroom flares it's gills;
I'm filled with rushing sensations
all wetness I welcome, slide in
passions gush to meet
stroke for stroke, tongues
fight greedily, ******* taunt
stretched to limits of erectness;
screaming for pain, squeezing
hard between thumb and finger,
between lips and teeth;
lotus awash with rhythms that
cling to thy arms like boughs of oak
in trembling waves we crash against
rocky shores

blushing in sweet-sounding joy...

thus, satiated...
A collaboration with PABruce & NVMeeks aka Goddess of Sensuality aka Debra A Baugh
Terry O'Leary Mar 2013
While I gaze in your eyes, cool cerulean blue,
Sifting night, straining stars through morning’s sweet dew,
I can fathom the depths of empyreal skies,
Angels fluttering by, riding wild butterflies

While I gaze in your eyes, changing, aqua-blue greening,
I’m ****** into chasms, cascading, careening,
And yield to enticements which meekly disarm,
Seeping virtuous beauty, sad sensuous charm

While I gaze in your eyes, bleeding fiery blue
Ever tempting with treasures, with pleasures for two,
Being caught at the core of a blazing sapphire
Possessing, enthralling, aflame with desire

While I gaze in your eyes, misty emeralds, deep green,
Veiling laughter and banter, and echoes between,
Then I dream, so it seems, in whatever the place,
Of your scent, of your breath, of your radiant face

While I gaze in your eyes, at times placidly blue,
Near’ as calm as the weirs in the woods all bedewed,
Forty winks relegate to a shimmering lake,
Gently floating on lilies, while waiting to wake

While I gaze in your eyes, caught engulfed in the greens
And consigning my fate unto verdant ravines,
My reactions, at length, become shyer and shyer
Reminiscent of ravens at risk in the briar

While I gaze in your eyes, restless, hesitant blues
Overwhelming sensations with turbulent hues,
I’m succumbing to waves of a storm battered sea,
Being cast like a plank, never meant to be free

While I gaze in your eyes, shadowed, Midnight Lake green
Glowing hazy with dreams, misty thoughts so serene,
Sudden silence befalls me, a fast sinking stone,
Looming lost in your eyes, I am never alone

While I gaze in your eyes, saddened, lachrymal blue,
Spilling trickles of rain, pearls obscuring your view,
I’ll attend to your anguish and feelings morose,
Lightly kissing your tears, touching, holding you close

While I gaze in your eyes, pulsing infinite green
Of the earth and of heaven and all in between,
It is simple to see that my hands can hold all
Of the treasures I find which so humbly enthral

While I gaze in your eyes, when they’re bountifully blue,
I’m reminded, love’s lightning is granted to few...

While I gaze in your eyes, when they’re blindingly green,
I’m reminded, love’s lightning cannot be foreseen...

Yet I hope... and I wait...
Maggie Emmett Aug 2014
At Vernal equinox, the Sun crosses
over the plane of the Earth’s equator
and equalises the night and the day.
Then will the Emerald Dragon awaken
from his hibernation beneath the earth.
Rising in the jade forests of Ghizhou,
this yin creature transforms the cold, dead land.
Primal and powerful, he gathers the Qi;
melts the mountain snows to ribbons of fire
igniting the frosty hillsides to growth,
fuses each thing with verdant energy,
revives again the seed, renews the bulb,
sprouting tender shoots juice-rich and sap-full
Shy blossoms set to bloom and burst with fruit
Fresh scented breezes ruffle foliage
maiden ferns shiver with their thrill and ******
Grasses and reeds bedewed and beryline,
murmuring and humming low and dulcet,
dancing and swaying at the river’s edge.
Roots of every tree draw deep from the earth
Magnolia and Frangipani breathe
and pant out fragrant honeyed lusciousness
Spring sparks and quickens, kicks and is alive.

© M.L.Emmett
written after looking into Chinese mythology
ballboy Nov 2012
Love you dealt a bitter blow –
You lay me cross the mortal plains,
Bedewed, bedimmed amongst a show
Of tearful clouds: eternal rains
To weep at my enduring foe

Of harsh reality – searing pains of
Destiny: dependable propensity
all I ever wanted was love
That I could ever triumph over love!
Debra A Baugh Feb 2013
every time I think of him; body percolates
to self-******* soaking fingers as they
linger in bedewed moisture as if, his fingers
unlocks intimacy

and...

no more thoughts as he sidles beside me
easing one finger at a time in curve of
femininity, teasing bud tenderly; coaxing
mouth to open


I throb...

trembling lips abrades skin as heat erupts
upon his mouth and his eyes entrance as
masculinity gently bemingles in escalating
heat; its fragrant beads, he licks

slowly...

lured into peaked hunger; unspoken words
intoxicate spilling inner sweetness, drizzling
upon invading fingers aroused in affinity

once...twice...orgasmically drenched
Debra A Baugh Jun 2012
He sneaks into my mind in slumber,
emanating his fervor; awakening *****
to a frenzy, then whispering wet
licks against me, I whimper deep
within from his delicious torment;
labials unveil for tongued ecstasy.

Wallowing in my bedewed rose; he
breathes its ambrosia with tongue &
nose, stiffens each dip into garden
of Eden, he knew I'd buck and tremble
begging to feel him deeper; unearthing
sighs and whispers.

Touching me with promises; as I eye his
sinewy masculinity, entwined limb to limb
our desire erupts each plunge into
paradise, wet, each teased withdrawal,
inner muscles contract breathing him back
in, rising to meet and sheath his firmness
in unuttered realms of ecstasy.

I whisper, need to swallow his measure;
and sweet hotness trickles down throat,
******* my own wetness; he greedily suckles
one at a time savoring its aftertaste, tonguing
me to taste what he's enjoying, moving slowly
in and out.

And...

I shudder from the sheer feel deeply
embedded as his passion leaves me
softly broken.
nin-esque Nov 2013
He removes my clothing
and sets my insecurities aside as well.
I have been dressed down, but he has dressed me up
with his tender tongue communicating with my own.
My body becomes angelic
beneath the abundant, gentle hands of my lover
(genuine or not)
softly grazing his fingers
down the contour of my honey-colored skin,
taking a moment to examine
my soft, round, divine *******.

nibble here and nibble there

My eyelids slowly fall down, taking me
to a world of ecstasy, and I am now disembodied.
My lover has bedewed my world with
unfathomable wonders and the room has
filled itself with clouds of satisfied sighs.
What an exquisite touch my lover lays upon
my naked back as he kisses each indention
along my spine, soothing each bruise life
has buried between my delicate cord.
He discovers each hidden freckle on my body
and plants a seed of hope with his moist lips.
My soul has been ignited in the most
pleasant way one can burn.
My grasps tightens around his mane
and colors explode through my body
like a psychedelic fourth of July celebration,
as I exhale the name of my lover while he inhales mine.
We are weightless, and time has ceased entirely.
Peace has finally found me in this moment
of total serenity.
Paula Swanson Oct 2010
'Neath the Willows, cloaked in brume,
as streams the night time a deepening.
Enshrouding all in shadows womb,
I espy true loves awakening.

Eve tide slumber found a youth,
within the mead, where I do dwell.
Wont was I, to bespell, forsooth,
tis truly, one thing I do well.

Mazed, stands young swain, aside his bay,
embracing nymph, of flaxen hair.
Bedewed, were eyes, by impish fay,
for it be a swine, he holds there.

Of deep laughter, I do partake.
As disenthralled, young swain awakes.
Mighty Varuna
God of the Sea
and sub-marine spheres
You visited me
mounted on Your strange dolphin
ancient makara dragon


Sacred, secret eyelids
of evening
flash open
cresting across the cobalt
horizon

Our ship gently rocked
softly cradled
wind and wave
whisper Om

From fathomless depths
You gush forth
bedewed
in ocean jewels
and seaweed

Varuna
with colossal form
hewn of surf and stars
I beheld
Your awesome darshan
and tasted the salt spray
of Your breath

My heart is forever
a garland of
pearls afloat
at Your
white-capped
Celestial Feet


*Paste the link below:
www.sairapture.com/sea-god-dream-03012015.html
Shibu Varkey Jun 2020
stood before my misty
bedroom window pane
I saw hazy scenes of future
and my gray reflected face

blotches, smudges, patches
feelings, emotions, thoughts
on that bedewed window
of a million human hearts

my bare palm feels the glass
cold indelible marks.
forms a million faces
in that frosty glass

Gazing deeply at me
from beyond the glass
the hungry and the bleeding
from a thousand miles.

My heart begins to wonder
what scenes are yet to come
beyond that misty window
as the days come and go by

Will warm rays of sunshine
ensure the mist goes dry,
or raindrops bathe the pane
and wash away it stain.

but those searching gazes,
of a million stained faces,
of bleeding feet and wishes
forever is etched in that pane
this poem is based on my thoughts on the migrant labourers walking hundreds of miles to reach their homes after the sudden lockdown in India
Lee Janes Jan 2013
What spirit drives the thunderbolts?
Whence comes the fury of the rivers,
What feeds the winds, what fount
Supplies the immeasurable ocean?
What pathway of the sun hastens
Or draws out the course of night?
Long have my own birds sung my doom,
And tears bedewed my face,
Reflecting tracks remaining in heaven,
And the zephyrs path gleams bright.
‘Tis you, forever, and always,
My true delight!
Joseph Flores Jun 2018
Once we ran with freedom
Our hearts floating in the sky.
Love fell abundantly.
Drenching you and I.

Boom!
A selfish thunderburst...
Lightning on the scape.
Our love once bedewed...
Gone without a trace.

Sunshine can't conceal...
My swollen cirrius pain.
Nor the slicing breezes...
Slivering the rain.

Life devoid of nature.
Sunbeams lack the reach.
Indoors.
Life in a tiny cell.
Reinforced with steel.
Heavy dungeon door.
Bars made out of tears.

Melodramatic dreams.
Stir an exotic drink.
Making love on my cot.
Beside the stainless sink.

Life without parole.
Without your tender touch.
Love in the first degree.
Now I never see you much.
Will you visit me?

You are my lonely prison...
My emotional cocoon.
Your love a distant thunderburst...
Far beyond the moon.

You are the pin-up girl...
Pasted on my wall.
You are my prison warden...
Life's not fair at all.
XinsanityX May 2013
Love! you dealt a bitter blow –You lay me cross the mortal plains,Bedewed, bedimmed amongst a show
Of tearful clouds of eternal rains.
Jesse stillwater Apr 2018
It was that one last drop
that flooded a brimful hollow

Welling drop by drop . . .
Lingering , . . moment by moment,
belatedly over-flowing the restraint
slowly filled by reckoned time

Gathered teardrops surrendered
from vulnerable cup of thirsting blossom
Volatile bedewed petals gently sipping
   dawn's velvet  mist

A tender heart ... spilling the traces of hurt
Beneath the stains of time
    hidden deep within
the enigmatic pools of your eyes

    The moment of love
              awoken,
         is a boundless
        awaited sunrise

It's as if a stifled river's trickle  
       reinvigorates thirst,
  abating its own extinction

           The will to be,
     heeded in a last drop,
             inspiriting
       new breathe of life

          long lost adrift,
       alone in tidewater's
               contrary 
          push and pull

Dreaming of Spooning water
   from a broken vessel
   into insoluble oceans

Each loving spoonful filled
with the overflowing love
    from a broken heart

To rescue from endangering indifference,
knowing only what is loved can be saved

Will you touch this aching silence and let me know ?

Gaze your eyes into this lonely sea
     and let the tide pull you in


              Jesse  Stillwater
Notes:  19th  April

Thanks for reading ... its hard to look away from silence, but it does teach with its unspoken muse; even though lessons learned may not be what you'd hoped for.
XinsanityX May 2013
Love! you dealt a bitter blow –You lay me cross the mortal plains,Bedewed, bedimmed amongst a show
Of tearful clouds of eternal rains.
Shibu Varkey Dec 2019
sometimes i stand before
the misty window pane
the hazy scenes of future
amidst my misty reflection
blotches, smudges and patches
feelings, emotions and memories
wiping the bedewed window
my bare palm feels the cold
indelible marks emerging
forms a face in the frosty glass
looking not at,but with me
at the scenes that are yet to unfold
beyond that misty window
With the warm rays of sunshine
the mist sure will dry,
or the raindrops on the pane
wash the stains away
yet will stay my reflection
and will that face with me,
my soul in that misty window
Esha Apr 2018
Life’s poetry isn't flowing like before;
Metaphors growing stagnant and leaving stains on the pages, like pressed flowers in my blank diaries.
No longer is my mind a sweet adobe to the psychedelic abstractions, running wild, stumbling off the cliff and dissolving into the mundane reality;
Which burst into sober hues here and there, painting my everyday.
I wake in this everyday, healed and scarred;
I walk in this everyday amidst beings of beautiful mien guising grotesque entrails.
Icy criticisms pierce through these ears, melting on this burning flesh, sipping through every tissue, and embedding in the bones.
Is it not painful enough to own these fatal inner conflicts, mutating into lethal thoughts, fabricated into reality.
A sort of pitiful nothingness is bedewed upon all the pages of life, I turn.
I’m stranded on this blank page;
I’m running out of words, i’m running out of ink;
Just with the somber sanguine streams flowing underneath this ashy skin, with which I intend to fill this void but fail.
Hasan Maruf Jul 2017
I…I heard the footstep
I…I wondered what…what was that?
I…I heard an indistinct rumble
I…I hastily desisted and urged me to rest
Until I heard the vicious whisper
Thundering behind my doorstep
Tremulously had I reached the door
Looking through the mirror conduit
I paused, gasped and breathed deep
What I heard was a staccato shriek
Bludgeoning violently against
My chamber door with a ghastly peep
Suddenly the sound dissipated awhile
But the fiendish murmur did beguile
Thrusting my heart into a pacific exile

It was an unearthly maiden from the yore
Causing me to tingle to hear her dark lore
In the night of my lone and lousy submission
I was metamorphosed into a ghost
Dissevering the soul from my dainty robe

I…I felt a flitting shudder then a flirting flutter
In the middle of a tormenting stutter
Before consummation with this maiden
Brewing out from the obscuration of her colour

I felt torrid phosphorescence on my forlorn bed
While, I envisioned specter of unhallowed dream
Forming like fungus inside my foamy stream
Overpowering the sputter of my night scheme

I...I thought for a while, the montage
Of these dreams must be from the arch evil
But soon the slumber began to feast
On my turbulent bliss, I reveled
At the very opportunity of unwinding
The gospel of her love forsaken Lenore
Laden with the riddle of her dark lore!

I…I lingered a little before lending my ear
To the haunted mysteries of the maiden’s air
I betook my bedraggled knife
Waited for what comes within my purview
Before engaging myself in a valorous view

Meanwhile, in my chamber of cadaverous blue
I noted a rotting odors passing by
In the hallway through my door
Suddenly, it was lit with translucent light
While, the horror tossed me into a grim plight
On the floor, I discovered a casket of a corpse
Irritably birthing the wild bubble of iced trill
It felt like a purring puff then it was all still

I decided to eavesdrop the rasping whimper
Gushing out from its muted shrill
I…I betook my bedraggled knife
More so to scan the harmony of his strife
Enough, enough I deplored wearily with delight
To get to open the portal of his hidden life

I ... I betook my bedraggled knife
I plowed it through his skin
Cautiously, I devised my amputation
With various degrees of incision
From its protoplasm up to chin
But, I could find nothing but meats
Muttering unrequited love
Lisping ominous yearning of his
To be reconciled and resigned with
Demoniacal feat of maiden’s heartbeat

I…I betook my bedraggled knife
Looking into my works, I could
Not thwart a languorous temptation
As the soft, serene and slow cadences
Of the maiden stirred me to waive
Into the vault of unmarked grave

She gave me my disheveled knife
An incandescent beauty I saw therein
Eyes open, shining like the moon
I decided to use my entire prowess within
Speculating my life to be ended soon

The maiden carried me along down the hallway
With the other corpses I am to dwell in all gay
In her livid *****, in her phantom palace of gray
I heard the chuckling corpse open his tongue
Singing all those songs which never were sung
I managed to utter my name with a rusted voice
Intimating that I won’t be alone and forever rejoice

The turbid night ended with a dusky dawn
Being bemused, my blood bedewed knife
Regaled at the sight of this phenomenon
[A horror poem]
Shofi Ahmed Apr 2020
The show is poetry in motion
even on the black canvas of the night
it remains a live showdown the stars
one that's hardly dark in the dark.

The fireflies fly through
highlighting in silver lines
that could barely shed new light
amid the spectator stars
eye on upon it from the far.

The sea in black in the night
billows with full of ink
only to wish to ink a beauty spot
above its forehead on a shining Moon-dew.

Looking down on it from the stars
the sea in black is bedewed with moonlight.
It’s not that there is no red no purple no colour
it's the garden of every morning's new sun
in bloom in the shady bud of the night.


It’s dark and cold
Just before the dawn
Bedewed Baby leaves
Rare jewels shimmer under the street lamp
The birds have set their tune of mirth
It’s always the same with these birds
A new dawn, rising
They have welcomed
Just the same
What’s with these birds
I wish to know and learn
Do they do karaoke dawns
Someday, I wish to sing along
But today, as happy as them
I listen to their mirthful song
Listening to the birdsong ( 5:00 am)
10th July
Will you catch me
   If I should fall?

Will you hold this hand
You promised
Never to let go?

To thread this path
Bedewed with tears
Sad

— The End —