"calyx" poems
1241
The Lilac is an ancient shrub
But ancienter than that
The Firmamental Lilac
Upon the Hill tonight—
The Sun subsiding on his Course
Bequeaths this final Plant
To Contemplation—not to Touch—
The Flower of Occident.
Of one Corolla is the West—
The Calyx is the Earth—
The Capsules burnished Seeds the Stars
The Scientist of Faith
His research has but just begun—
Above his synthesis
The Flora unimpeachable
To Time’s Analysis—
“Eye hath not seen” may possibly
Be current with the Blind
But let not Revelation
By theses be detained—
11.2k
339
I tend my flowers for thee—
Bright Absentee!
My Fuchsia’s Coral Seams
Rip—while the Sower—dreams—
Geraniums—tint—and spot—
Low Daisies—dot—
My Cactus—splits her Beard
To show her throat—
Carnations—tip their spice—
And Bees—pick up—
A Hyacinth—I hid—
Puts out a Ruffled Head—
And odors fall
From flasks—so small—
You marvel how they held—
Globe Roses—break their satin glake—
Upon my Garden floor—
Yet—thou—not there—
I had as lief they bore
No Crimson—more—
Thy flower—be gay—
Her Lord—away!
It ill becometh me—
I’ll dwell in Calyx—Gray—
How modestly—alway—
Thy Daisy—
Draped for thee!
8.2k
To the tune of "Telling My Most Intimate Feelings"
When night comes,
I am so flushed with wine,
I undo my hair slowly:
a plum calyx is
stuck on a damaged branch.
I wake dazed when smoke
breaks my spring sleep.
The dream distant,
so very distant;
and it is quiet, so very quiet.
The moon spins and spins.
The kingfisher blinds are drawn;
and yet I rub the injured bud,
and yet I twist in my fingers this fragrance,
and yet I possess these moments of time!
3.3k
His body lost temperature as he pressed himself against the chest of hers, seducing her with his love.
With his sleepy **** voice, he hums her romantic morning lullabies.
The gray walls of the room soon embosomed with gleaming hearts of their beauteous lust and speedy soft breaths, leaving nothing more but powder blushes of crimson on her flowery cheeks in the springtime dawn.
The honeyed lust in the veins lit the bodies of two lovers like candles into eternal flames of romance.
Under the chocolate brown duvets,
Milky fragrances of the tea dances along the bare hands of two lovers,
while he serves breakfast on bed to her in an old-fashioned way.
Bleak morning mist tango around the vitreous skins of scratched windows,
as fat hummingbirds' tinkling giggles paint beyond the nature's smiley meadows,
sending a major abundance of lovable freedom and glee to the people.
In the bathtub,
Velvety calyx of dreamlover rose flows smoothly through the silk water.
They shower each other and let warmth grasp their naked body.
He kissed her dancing soul of chasms out
and tie uncountable amount of butterfly knots to her pancake stomach.
His abilities of heart possessions had captured the universe's breath.
*Nothing has changed since day number one, everything is iridescent.
Everything is swimming in a magical pool of scarred perfections.*
As the sun sets to the west,
The undarkened nightfall sings lulling melodies and let its harmonic fire burn the skies.
The shadows of their love whirl out unstoppable romance that vanished away void hopes and pain.
The lover's spirits echo and echo into spring gorges and dashing rivers,
Feeding darkness with lucent fragments of light.
Oh they were only two humans in love...
Or only a size of two negligible lovedust in the mystical galaxies...
But their endless love never fails to deluge the world with drizzling tears.
A facile spark of romance can be an amazing set of fireworks that creates indiscernible fruitful happiness.
Who in the world could resist this unpredictable power of their spingtime love?
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 10:28 AM UTC
Later,
there are tears,
a sorrow slender
as a bellflower at first,
and opening its slow & delicate way
to grief, fluent as the soul
falling toward you, wet
and gasping, an agony of willows,
late in August & hemlock,
tear strung, haunted,
in the deep blue scythe of hours
you carve out of our secret,
a totem fossil of wild horses,
abandoned & impaled upon a carousel,
that bear a garland of snapdragons
for reign and bridle,
as they open their tiny pink throats to the night,
the calyx trill of tree frogs,
with their penchant for silk
& pink ribbons, pigtails
& sequin dreams,
I am desolate now,
my body a bramble
tangled in its curfew of snow,
upon the window pane,
the incessant thump, thump
of these **** ivory moths,
on each wing, a word I speak in dream,
returns to me, cleft
of blue light, scissor in darkness,
fierce to extinguish the stars
with their vehement lash of wing
to glass, to glass,
your pain is my familiar,
my envy,
my assurance,
and I am calmed
solely with the lace of spanned hands
at the throats small and fluttered vessel,
come, to besiege
the innocence of Summers stray tears....
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 3:13 PM UTC
606
The Trees like Tassels—hit—and swung—
There seemed to rise a Tune
From Miniature Creatures
Accompanying the Sun—
Far Psalteries of Summer—
Enamoring the Ear
They never yet did satisfy—
Remotest—when most fair
The Sun shone whole at intervals—
Then Half—then utter hid—
As if Himself were optional
And had Estates of Cloud
Sufficient to enfold Him
Eternally from view—
Except it were a whim of His
To let the Orchards grow—
A Bird sat careless on the fence—
One gossipped in the Lane
On silver matters charmed a Snake
Just winding round a Stone—
Bright Flowers slit a Calyx
And soared upon a Stem
Like Hindered Flags—Sweet hoisted—
With Spices—in the Hem—
’Twas more—I cannot mention—
How mean—to those that see—
Vandyke’s Delineation
Of Nature’s—Summer Day!
2.2k
*yonder wave wants to come on in
can't make it go away
try so hard to chase away
steel reserve*
1.
don't come cryin' on yo broken shins
who dat talkin' ova der?
yo muvva just ain't home rite now
take ya scraggy bags
and vamoose outta here
pick up dem rings 'round yo trappin' eyes
and lasso 'em round dat red fin
tackle yo chapped lips
afore dem ships fall in yo calyx-cracks
quit dat naggin' bitch-mouth
here, have dis apple, ma piggie
and dems eyes o' yours dat shine so brite
might as well switch off dat lite
hide dem leather-hands dat look like dry branches
wat, even da desert don't win dis contest
pack dat stupid head in a box
der ain't nuttin' inside a see-through noggin
hide dem silly hopes under a hevvy sea
or bury it under da soles of yo crazi hart
take yo blasted treadin' to some udder place
some dark mine where dey can use yo help
and all dem purty words on pages yo just lurve a-spewin'
ain't no party here for fools no more
2.
den, der some funny rhydm 'gainst ma door
pushin' dat big wave
pushin' dat big wave
I'm a-pushing back jest as hard
but dat wrestlin' wave jest a-growin'
keeps a-knockin'
always rockin'
gonna come crashin' rite in
*ain't no good wishing, ma beloved darlin'
so many fine dreams
running silent
in dem luvverly veins under yo kick-startin' tongue*
yah, yonder waves gonna make a breakthrough
some day...
(mebbe)
S T, 21 augury 2013
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 1:18 PM UTC
we blossomed once
in the desert
two green weeds
seeking rootless pleasure
now flower bedded
horticultured—yet wistfully I miss
the *****
of cactus lips
Aug 20, 2020
Aug 20, 2020 at 8:51 PM UTC
constant flow...
Throwing back its strong stem
Head into the wild wind
Releasing progeny
Whirling round
All in a blur
how sweet that dance of the poppies
See them fly
In all directions
Calyx empties itself
In freeze-frame video clip
Of what really needs to be set free
*constant streaming
of
sunlight*
S T, 17 July 2013
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 1:13 AM UTC
i can no longer say i love you
without coughing up
a calyx of petals, darling;
a flower,
for every written poetry,
a flower,
for each metaphor for your eyes.
a flower,
for each pillow-talk,
for each time i looked for
your amber eyes in a crowd,
a flower,
for each sunset wish
and each love letter buried
at the end of every song, darling —
a flower, for each time
i say i love you
without trying to say your name —
a flower for each time
i listen
to pareidolias of your voice
mixed
with the pitter-patters of the rain.
just a flower, i thought.
but darling, my lungs are now a garden
of your favorite flowers;
they are now a garden
of all the times
i tried to unlove you
and all the times
i ever failed.
darling, they are now a garden
of all my i love you’s
and all the
i love you too’s
you won’t
ever
say.
Jun 22, 2019
Jun 22, 2019 at 10:43 PM UTC
~
*The beauty
Of your nest
Lies in knowing
What hides within
Is better than the rest
A glimpse through your foliage
Reveals a soft calyx
The petals of which are
The enthroned souls of the faithful
But a trap door nonetheless
When I enter
You will sigh
When I keep at it
You will know why
Angels sing*
~
Jan 28, 2021
Jan 28, 2021 at 11:18 AM UTC
Spring tepals
sepals ripe with sticky dew ~
only inner calyx thorn
or some star-corymb splay
like sonar-notes across the diver's head
portray the meaning of another's thought
exploration's prescient surge
; the rise and fall of summit senses...
; all perspectives breathe
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 3:13 AM UTC
Am I to be an anemone,
with florescent blue petals,
chalky stamens hid inside,
dwelt within my calyx,
I have waited impatiently to break free,
dusted in vibrant blue.
I digress, for I am not an anemone,
Find my only friendship in bees,
stripy buzzing vested bees,
For I am a lady locked up,
I am beginning to gush.
(C) Livvi
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 7:53 AM UTC
Whenever the sweet-scented
calyx of palm collects the blue
midday sun in your hair, I sit
passing time in the moon’s
phases and listen to the roaring
silence of thousands of fireflies.
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 2:29 PM UTC
I gate the desires
like veins does blood
As my temptress
bolds my love
Cheeks talk white
Tongues see thin
I kiss the dreams
And plush my sin
The seven truths
A bridge to burn
I kiss your soil
I parch your fern
I steal your breath
Amp your light
I'm shadow between
Silk and night
I am the art
Within your book
I am the castle
To your rook
The calyx face
So bee Devine
I make honey
One kiss a time
Jun 19, 2017
Jun 19, 2017 at 1:28 AM UTC
Some days there are no problems.
Others, becoming more the frequent,
I feel as safe as Anne Frank in
A china shop.
It's never good fun.
But it doesn't have to be this way.
Either the seekers' rubber boots
Squeak up on me
Or I fling myself against the
Floodlit brick wall.
I've dreamed it a thousand ways.
What new can they do?
Their gas and their bullets, and
Their tire irons across my cheek
Cannot hurt me, a fool
Who has no fear of death,
As every day Death walks beside
And casts a grey lens to filter
What I can see.
If I am caught
If I am found out
And if their hands, their hands, their hands
Pull at me until I am We,
I hope the rendered halves
Push forth that warm light we like to hear about
In place of a deluge.
A light
To burst forth doors
And save the ones who perch like finches
Daring never fly.
I might hope only to become a hand.
A hand in which to step
And to be clasped
And in that clasp be free.
For all the men and women and
For all the in-between as well.
I wish that I could give that to you.
To rip away from your grey rags,
Your stars and triangles,
And in the persiflage of silence
Break the gates and cells
With my limp wrists.
Throw stones until my blood be upon me.
Mother.
Father.
Sons and lovers.
Break my mouth and put my eyes away.
Let, though, my skin go last
As a radial, red calyx.
I. We. All.
I wish to be the last to see the sun.
To be at last
And to be me.
Feb 23, 2010
Feb 23, 2010 at 7:25 PM UTC
If a flower
appears
in the first act. The rule is
someone must use it
before
the whorls curtain off.
In the second act,
Lady Calyx
holds the flower
toward you
“Don’t come
any closer.”
Before looking
into the stamen,
bang.
The flower goes off.
Mar 5, 2011
Mar 5, 2011 at 8:01 PM UTC
You listen to me lament, and hold my hand
Like the filament that holds my anther
For me there is no other
And you are the catalyst for my growth
The calyx beneath my flower
Keeping my peduncle standing firm and straight
Through every debunkle caused by fate
You come near,
and I am suddenly in bloom
Sep 28, 2011
Sep 28, 2011 at 1:33 AM UTC
" COLLABORATION Jack & Frieda "
A hush does wake this early dawn
in whispers formed on breathless dreams
Sunrise of horizon’s glow
through flowing curtains on opaque glass
*I sense in the distance, a tingling
the air crisp with Fall's spinning
a tangible scent of warmth is mulling
like hot cider's comfort beside a fire*
Crimson and ochre paint the valley
in a tapestry of nature’s desire,
gently woven in patterns of bliss,
collecting thoughts in blue tinted jars
*Memories of far away encounters
as if captive in snow globes embraces
Topsy-turvy recollections and reminisces
painted in hues of yesterday's resolve*
Secured neatly with plaid and gingham ribbon,
set upon the sill amidst cranberry ornaments
Reflecting past love and new day wishes,
scented by a heart longing for autumn’s sweet kiss
*A gentle sway of a zephyr sweeps my hair
I'm reminded of your touch at the nape of my neck
a season of whirling calyx in sweet surrender
I sigh in this moment, for I wish you were still here*
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 6:10 PM UTC
For our love I gave you one red rose.
Perfumed velvet petals clustered
In a tight embrace: exultant bud burst
Of new beauty. Fragrant fresh, expressing
How you brought life back to me.
A single slender stem of perfect form
To match a perfect harmony of souls.
Yet deep within the calyx blood-red curl
Droplets lay unseen from rainy days.
As the head unfolded all its parts,
Those drops rolled tear-like far beyond
The leaves and thorns.
The rose remains with me. I found it
Crushed within the pages of a book.
The petals have each come apart: dried up
And faded with the passing years.
They have no scent of course but I
Remember well those heady days
And with a smile I gently close the book.
Jan 28, 2010
Jan 28, 2010 at 6:31 AM UTC
In the silence of my heart I feel this flowering;
budding with every whisper against my soul,
calling; enwrapping me within his ambrosia
as each silken petal brushes against softness,
I bow demurely into his maleness.
Looking out upon the horizon; I glimpse our
silhouettes entwined in the midst of golden
rays, haloed as his lips partake in loves
sweetest nectar and his tongue articulates
in heated breaths, I linger in its aftertaste.
Adoring the twinkle in his eyes as they take
in the beauty of my flowering chasm, awaiting
its calyx approach; slowly impinging in its
fragrance, savoring; hovering and dipping as a
honeybee suckles nectar.
I tremble like a softly blown breeze in his wake;
as his hands glide upon my countenance,
teasing each contoured petal; placing me gently
upon our flowered bed of strewn petals;
languishing in his arms as each whisper hums,
delighting in passion's rose.
Jun 14, 2012
Jun 14, 2012 at 2:14 AM UTC
“I need more than you…”
She said and walked away
“I’m emerging…”
Pain whispered as the calyx tore
Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 6:38 PM UTC
a calyx in chaos.
a crack in chalky crown, crimson, cratered, clowns
cry crystal shards....
clothe me in crimpolene
in shades of clinical ivory
and cream.
come hither they cry
and carp, cavil,caterwaul.
come hither, come,
come, come.
cypher the cyan, from the cyanide
castigate, the casting,
of the conversational.
be cognisant, within the
cogs of the clock...
click-ticking..tick-clicking
in chorus, chant of canticle.
be the calm,
within the clemency.
and the core,
of the courageous.
concede not,
contemplate, with conscioncious, clear
the concepts of conotation
above all be
incomparable, capricious, canny and considerate
a conglomerate of cause, corpus and crux.....
both curious and a curiosity.
cause...
creation, cherishes
a clever n' curious, curiosity.
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 8:10 PM UTC
They are beautiful
but fragile breath
of air; Shimmering
in every thinkable
colour, but her wings
are turquoise
Glittering in accents
in Sapphire and aqua-
marine; Unique and
fabulous, but not because
of her colouring dress
Beautiful because of
her broad scar extending
over her entire right
wing
Made with pure purpose,
Ugly and nasty; Just ripped
apart with brutal violence
Years she stayed on the
ground hiding under
a great iris, ashamed and
sad
Years she tried to understand
why human hurt butterflies, those
little creatures that beautify
even the worst day while
dancing on a calyx
She couldn’t find an answer
Can you?
Apr 22, 2018
Apr 22, 2018 at 6:44 AM UTC