"bedewed" poems
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
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 11:44 AM UTC
*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*
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 7:45 AM UTC
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.
Jul 7, 2022
Jul 7, 2022 at 1:50 PM UTC
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
Aug 16, 2016
Aug 16, 2016 at 5:38 AM UTC
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.
2.3k
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
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 11:51 PM UTC
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...
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 6:26 PM UTC
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
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 1:25 PM UTC
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!
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 9:18 PM UTC
every time I think of him; body percolates
to self-masturbate 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
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 12:47 PM UTC
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.
Jun 29, 2012
Jun 29, 2012 at 3:37 AM UTC
'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.
Oct 12, 2010
Oct 12, 2010 at 6:11 PM UTC
*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.*
Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 9:25 AM UTC
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
Jun 14, 2020
Jun 14, 2020 at 12:09 AM UTC
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
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 10:18 AM UTC
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!
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 8:15 AM UTC
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.
Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 6:48 PM UTC
Love! you dealt a bitter blow –You lay me cross the mortal plains,Bedewed, bedimmed amongst a show
Of tearful clouds of eternal rains.
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 4:26 PM UTC
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
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 11:42 AM UTC
Love! you dealt a bitter blow –You lay me cross the mortal plains,Bedewed, bedimmed amongst a show
Of tearful clouds of eternal rains.
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 12:39 PM UTC
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
Dec 8, 2019
Dec 8, 2019 at 8:53 AM UTC
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.
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 2:42 AM UTC
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.
Apr 6, 2020
Apr 6, 2020 at 9:34 PM UTC