"bokeh" poems
Since the day we met, I am struck and stung
From that day, my inside is singing this song
All I want to do is see you and hold you
I want to tell you, I think I love you
When you come near my sight
My senses pop out and I lose my mind
I want to hold your hand and make you smile
I want to talk with you and walk a million mile
When you look at me and you touch me, I get butterflies
Your words fill the empty space where my heart lies
This heart has been crushed and cut with knife
Your voice, so sweet to me, bring it back to life
I was smashed; my feelings were burned down to ashes
Frustration gulped me and I got serious depression cases
I was lost for very long hours of years
Scared, taunted and hollowed with fears
Now I can see the spark in your eyes
I have fallen for you, and it’s no lies
My blur life has changed to a beautiful bokeh
I want to confess I love you......................
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 9:51 PM UTC
With mechanical portals known to be doors
That either lead to different worlds or take you home,
These cabled vehicles like tunnels on wheels fastened on a railroad track
Stretch to both ends of the universe under a single route.
And as you get in for closure,
You put your trust on the obscure.
Just say the magic words;
It will take you anywhere you wish to be.
Even though magic always comes with a price,
The only cost are countable units of your time
And also a few dimes,
In return for the travel of your life.
Across the carpeted walkway of reaching out,
Through the glass windows of visible silver lining,
Behind the blank and arid faces that lure the soul to sink in deep wonder,
The lights and skyscrapers, and mist silhouetting the scenery,
All appear in bokeh, all blend in your eyes;
Your eyes that glow brighter than fire on ice.
The coldness lashing perennially on your skin
And shaking your bones to its final breakage,
Couldn't beat the absolute zero amity between these strangers.
But your fascination has enough radiation
To melt the tip of the iceberg
And shine over what's behind their opaque walls.
Settled on the plastic seats that serve as time machines,
They nestle between unfamiliar bodies;
Static, in a state of inertia.
Blocking out force, resisting change;
Like cars stuck on parking mode,
Couldn't bring themselves to unload.
Grasping on loose handles
With a grip more secure than seat-belts,
Some tend to pull away despite of the constant push.
Like engines on reverse, they take time to backtrack.
For all we know, for every action,
Is an equal and opposite reaction.
The brakes hit; there goes a screeching sound.
But when it comes to a break, we don't really hang back
Or fall to a complete stop;
We only slide forward.
For we must keep moving ahead,
In order to keep our balance.
The portals once again unlock to let you out to the open galaxy
And let in another for the same adventure.
You've reached the end of the trip,
But not the end of the road; nor the destination.
For the journey is infinite; you know you are going to ride again and again,
Until you've run out of wishes of where you want to be where.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 12:33 AM UTC
.
So afar and tall are you to me,
For you are from shining mountains,
Higher than the clouds, your brow,
Darker than the heavens, your hair.
So small and fey am I to you,
For I am but lone whisper in glens,
Slight as one firefly on the moors
And my reflection but a tiny glow.
Only to spark at edge of pools dark,
Only to fly when in harnessing arms.
I crossed a bridge to be with you,
The streams slipping times away,
Beneath my girlhood, all in a rush,
Then I entered the deepest wood.
So small and wan was I to you,
For you are from snowy mountains
And I am from rain-watery glens,
For you are portrait and I bokeh.
One day the woods engulfed me strong,
One night the bridge I crossed was gone.
.
Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 2:21 AM UTC
Do you hear it?
The hiraeth
Here it lies
City lights
The shining bokeh behind your eyes
Can you hear it?
The hiraeth
Here it lies
The rustling leaves
Of Franklin’s oak trees
Will you hear it?
The hiraeth
Here it lies
The snow knee deep
Childhood friendships we shall keep
Can you hear it?
The hiraeth
Here it lies
The ducks of bronze and feather
Make memories of hometown brighter
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 9:37 AM UTC
fallen sun rays
a yellow ballet
as her feet hit the pavement
raw soles against hard concrete
the slight scratch to send shivers
that follows each step
calluses forming
healed by the heat
flowers he had picked
reflect white next to chocolate hair
the bokeh golden light
turns muddy eyes emerald
as she looks with despair and excitement
upon his crooked teeth
and tousled hair
hands held hands in rough embrace
and yellow and red bandannas
hold sliding fingers together
graphite tattoos and cotton words
engraved on fair skin
bleeding ankles
and scarred knees
the collection of their mementos
fringe tickles eyes
a curtain of weeds
of rough fallen doors
as smooth finger pads touch soft cheekbones
and for once they close their eyes
to see fireworks
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 8:27 PM UTC
Colour blooms
Onto a canvas of black-and-white impressions
Left behind are brush strokes from the blues and greys
Overlayed are the yellows and pinks
Flowers drift left and right
A sunset glows until dark
Transforming into midnight bokeh
With every blink, something new
A painter paints
A thousand places all here at once
A thousand dreams
A thousand wonders
All here, in the colour of you
Jun 30, 2023
Jun 30, 2023 at 8:41 PM UTC
Gimpse in the mirror, hair cascading down
emerald eyes piercing the reflection that isn't entirely yours.
Suddenly you see yourself age 78
overlooking the sea on the balcony, wrinkles traced in hands.
The Bainbridge ferry streams along like always,
dropping off passengers on King Street.
Girls and boys strolling down the avenue
happiness and dreams circling their trails.
You are only twenty. You should be experiencing this too.
Holidays at the pond
reminded you that you were always going to be alone
and look at where you are now.
No one will see the lights with you. No one wants to see
a smile at the bokeh, the incandescent halos
wrapped around the bridges.
You only wanted to be happy.
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 2:07 AM UTC
Lines of light
form our forms,
as shapes glance shyly
at spot-dotted stars.
They shape you, you know?
Framing your eyes
with lashes so dark,
petals,
against a backdrop of lime
clear, wide, citrus,
for me, the slicing sting
in open wound screams.
But for you?
My arms wide
to gaily catch green gaze
whole.
My gaze,
a lens sans focus,
light bends and blurs
to bokeh.
It’s lost.
It returns.
The sudden impact
of complete regression,
dynamically hastened exhales
in symphonies of near silence.
Faith in finding
new seedlings buried
below cold spring surface,
or, if-luck-might-root-hold,
flowering perennials
of Love without Lust
claw up through dirt.
Worn out and in,
like rugged denim blue,
spanning one lifetime,
two,
yours and mine.
Endless desire,
for wear,
for comfort without fear,
each year, new tears,
again.
Again, again,
sun me with your stare.
Aug 10, 2012
Aug 10, 2012 at 4:59 AM UTC
When you see bright lights
And your mind is
as dark and cold
as a rainy day
At least your teary eyes
will turn the lights
Into a beautiful bokeh
-Kaya
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 2:59 AM UTC
Bokeh in the damp trees
Bokeh in my blue eyes
Bokeh in the street lights
Bokeh in his heart
Apr 8, 2012
Apr 8, 2012 at 1:55 PM UTC
june reminds me of
the calm before the storm
the flinch & the shivers
the wisps of smoke on your window sill & the wet bough
the purple sky with its thunder
& persistent rain
watching the bokeh of head lights
with dreamy eyes & iced teas
it reminds me of the
wordless wait of an recluse
and
you...
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 9:18 AM UTC
this fridge is empty
nothing to fill it
light's on but there is no need
just like you life
you feel the same way
every night it's the same thing
all alone no hand to hug you
no one to tell you how pretty you look
as you head up stairs to go to bed
there's a knock at you door
you turn around not sure to answer it
waiting to her the knocking again
as the second knock is heard you run down the stairs
opening the door you see this we'll dressed man standing at you door step
with a bokeh of flowers a ring in the other hand
you look at him puzzled
until you notice the empty feeling fading away
you heart feels warm your skin lights up
there's a bright smile lighting up your face
you let him in then close the door
as he comes around and gives you a kiss
you put both hands around his chest
he does the same with his other two
the lonely and emptiness that was once there
is replaced with love a ring and a kiss
she is no longer her empty fridge
May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 8:05 PM UTC
i. my chest shivers with my heartbeat—a hummingbird, flapping its wings.
ii. the first spring sunlight, warm rays of melted gold. light falls like a blanket, lucent, scintillating bronze aglow.
iii. redness on skin, marigolds flowering, blossoming pink scattered on cheeks like stardust. a thousand million comets, light and more light.
iv. warm grass beneath my fingers, sprouting up and growing through my body towards the sun.
v. fields of wildflowers. rosy morning sunrise over ocean. light, light, and light, draping over earth like curtains of amber, twinkling. bokeh pouring through forest canopies, a solar sedative, the fauna doze. light, more light, drizzling from sunbeams, riding on the claws of the birds.
vi. warm golden blankets, lulling the world to sleep.
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 1:01 AM UTC
good, so good
that's what they say about it-
but when I peer down at the scrawl
led-dragged, so heavily
I know it can never be enough.
bokeh lights and smoke streams
an insignificant metaphor-
just as Love is an understatement.
bullet wounds don't match
how hard You hurt.
discontent gets old
and eight months of displeasure
of dead static psychosis
have rendered me useless;
defined me as dead
to whatever connection I held
with beauty, glory,
understanding.
so good, they say
as the pictures piece together
in the minds hungry eye,
starving to relate,
unknown to the fact
it can never catch the passion;
the poetry is powerless.
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 1:00 AM UTC
june reminds me of
the calm before a storm
& the calm soft of your fingers
wisps of smoke out the window
shivers on my legs after the river
watching bokeh headlights
with dreamy eyes & a violet sky
cold sheets & loud fans at night
soaked shoes through the sprinklers
vaseline on my lips that i passed onto yours
the ivory scent of your laugh that still lingers
it reminds me of worldly things that now seem out of world
it reminds me of a past yet awaiting life
a blurry memory of who i am
it reminds me of you
Jun 1, 2018
Jun 1, 2018 at 6:46 AM UTC
We drove for miles
through the Utah desert,
past the Rocky Mountains
and looked at cities
swimming by in a bokeh blur--
I fell asleep to him softly
humming to an unknown song
while we traveled below
the stars.
We stopped at a diner,
ate clammy pancakes
that weren't worth the wait
but we made the best of it
admiring the authentic view
and pointing out
newfound places in the ghetto
that didn't exist around home.
I woke up in the backseat
to the sound of a scenic
rest-stop stream
and gazed at the mountains
towering over me:
silhouettes against the
starry midnight sky.
In the following afternoon
we scaled plateaus
as tall as God
with a view of which made me
want to die
within that very heaven.
We survived for thirty hours on
junk food,
gas stations, rest-stops,
each other's music
and cramped, makeshift beds.
Looking back,
I would give anything
for another thirty hours
in that car.
I would notice the differences
between each place we stopped
ten times more.
I would close my eyes
to cherish those pictures in my head.
I would write a better poem about it all.
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 11:17 PM UTC
.
So afar and tall are you to me,
For you are from shining mountains,
Higher than the clouds, your brow,
Darker than the heavens, your hair.
So small and fey am I to you,
For I am but lone whisper in glens,
Slight as one firefly on the moors
And my reflection but a tiny glow.
Only to spark at edge of pools dark,
Only to fly when in harnessing arms.
I crossed a bridge to be with you,
The streams slipping times away,
Beneath my girlhood, all in a rush,
Then I entered the deepest wood.
So small and wan was I to you,
For you are from snowy mountains
And I am from rain-watery glens,
For you are portrait and I bokeh.
One day the woods engulfed me strong,
One night the bridge I crossed was gone.
.
Jul 31, 2021
Jul 31, 2021 at 1:36 AM UTC
I am damp with regret.
It is midday.
The rain whispers,
it says that light
is abandoned.
It is wet in the churches.
I have no coat
and like a child I start to cry.
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 7:07 PM UTC
Telephoto or prime
Bokeh or crisp and clear
I can't find the right lens
To capture your beauty,
Sunlight or flash
Moonlight or twilight
I can't find the right illumination
To capture your soul,
Film or digital
Polaroid or canvas
I can't find the way
To present you
To the world
Perfection in my eyes
From within
To your exterior,
Pen to paper
Chisel to stone
I can't find the way
To say permanently
All that you mean to me,
From that second of splendor
The first instant we met
To the ever present current
Sweeping us apart and together
Distant and close
But I'm holding out
For the days we'll journey
Rhythmic steps side by side
In the sand again...
APAD13 - 069 © okpoet
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 3:37 PM UTC
Fairy lights
like bubbles of light
little round dreams
float behind you
crowning your head
Apr 14, 2019
Apr 14, 2019 at 8:06 PM UTC
I forgot how to breathe
underwater; serenity
inhale-exhale seemed like exercise
the wheel chairs moving
on white lawns
like exile
life behind lenses not tinted
but rimmed thick; reality check
felt like harsh sunlight
leaving bokeh lights clouding
my judgment
and I grew afraid
of insight - behind clouds
shrouded but certain
the windmills continue to rotate
left - right
left right
Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 11:20 AM UTC
Feeling rather off lately.
Must be time to stretch my wings.
Flutter up, and out,
above ordinary things.
I feel a chill in the air, and a feeling- that familiar glare,
of red and orange bokeh lights on the freeway,
dusty clouds over head,
waking up under the overpass of your love,
and the heart beat that
beats ahead,
ahead of the others,
ahead of the crowd,
it whispers, "Stand up straight,
don't slouch, speak up loud.
Throw off the familiar,
shake off the cloud,
run with the leopards and
leap with the deer,
unbind your icy feet,
and crush the new year."
-Dm 2017
Aug 28, 2017
Aug 28, 2017 at 12:48 AM UTC
Another glass
(bodega red)—
Christmas lights,
all buzz-eyed bokeh—
I want you close,
my nervous tic,
my lunar love,
Cassiopeia—
this holiday I
said too much,
I made a fool of
both of us—
but I don’t drink
to disappear—
I drink to kiss
my fearless lover.
Nov 29, 2018
Nov 29, 2018 at 12:58 AM UTC
There is a transient moment
most profound
and necessary.
It is that line
which borders the sky
and the water,
the umimaginary,
factual,
tangible edge
of reality and perception,
past and future,
mirror and reflection,
which develops insight.
A transient, effervescent moment,
of delight.
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 11:47 AM UTC