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"candescent" poems
<> **”To dream by the oak and awake by the sea when August has ripened and turned Jubilee you must enter dominion of summer's delight and live in the rapture of candescent light Oh to live and to love one must first learn to kiss,   the kinetics of summer, with eternal bliss.”** ~from vienna bombardieri’s poem, “Kinetics Of Summer~ (with her kind permission) <> First verse pinpoints accurate, this, my spot! by oak and sea, my precise longitude and latitude, where my summertime eyes open to receive the gift of morning’s light, observing the conjunction of land, hard by the sea, the land-ed avian gentry and sea~sailor birds interacting, sharing the uprising currents, for sport and observation, travel and pleasured sailing, these “Masters of the Sky can fly for hours (or days), while barely flapping,” and this verse stuns, and my shock, at these, her words my breathing is gasped and grasped by oak and sea, for so it be, this is where my morning’s operatic scrum, ballet and dance hall hullabaloo, my diurnal natural choreography is performed, while slow sipping my very heated first coffee it was here that I learned to love more easily, for the kinetics of summers trio of sun, sky, and moderate breezes, lulled the turbulence of my disheartened lives into an easier order, the world~surround, a living, breathing exercise that warmed the spirit, cooled the soul, and spoke without uttering a single word, here dear person, is the where and the when, the comfort of the natural-blanket that enwraps, covers, cherishes the atmosphere entire, containing the healing elixirs and protective ointments, that remove the plaque of life’s accumulated injuries, slights and scar tissue simply put, here I breath freely, here I see with clarity here the infusions of living in nature, prolongs, restore, remind, enliven and enhances, the intermixture of body and soul here in actual deed, the kiss of summer bliss upon my tiring cell’s walls, are resurrected even unto the nuclei, by the warm breath of sun life and sun light, and the breezes of salty sweet caramel air and under their loving, combined-dominion am I resurrected and will yet sense, one more Jubilee again as I lay dreaming by the oak and the sea…
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Aug 2, 2023
Aug 2, 2023 at 4:05 AM UTC
“To dream by the oak and awake by the sea“
<> **”To dream by the oak and awake by the sea when August has ripened and turned Jubilee you must enter dominion of summer's delight and live in the rapture of candescent light Oh to live and to love one must first learn to kiss,   the kinetics of summer, with eternal bliss.”** ~from vienna bombardieri’s poem, “Kinetics Of Summer~ (with her kind permission) <> First verse pinpoints accurate, this, my spot! by oak and sea, my precise longitude and latitude, where my summertime eyes open to receive the gift of morning’s light, observing the conjunction of land, hard by the sea, the land-ed avian gentry and sea~sailor birds interacting, sharing the uprising currents, for sport and observation, travel and pleasured sailing, these “Masters of the Sky can fly for hours (or days), while barely flapping,” and this verse stuns, and my shock, at these, her words my breathing is gasped and grasped by oak and sea, for so it be, this is where my morning’s operatic scrum, ballet and dance hall hullabaloo, my diurnal natural choreography is performed, while slow sipping my very heated first coffee it was here that I learned to love more easily, for the kinetics of summers trio of sun, sky, and moderate breezes, lulled the turbulence of my disheartened lives into an easier order, the world~surround, a living, breathing exercise that warmed the spirit, cooled the soul, and spoke without uttering a single word, here dear person, is the where and the when, the comfort of the natural-blanket that enwraps, covers, cherishes the atmosphere entire, containing the healing elixirs and protective ointments, that remove the plaque of life’s accumulated injuries, slights and scar tissue simply put, here I breath freely, here I see with clarity here the infusions of living in nature, prolongs, restore, remind, enliven and enhances, the intermixture of body and soul here in actual deed, the kiss of summer bliss upon my tiring cell’s walls, are resurrected even unto the nuclei, by the warm breath of sun life and sun light, and the breezes of salty sweet caramel air and under their loving, combined-dominion am I resurrected and will yet sense, one more Jubilee again as I lay dreaming by the oak and the sea…
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62
moving inland far away from the coast temptation doth bring deeper in land the head seems consumed by everything nearing the coast it's the heart that sings though inland, my love, you will find me away from the bogs or the shoals o' herring holding you at bay with ***** keeping me next to me wanting tomorrow to be the better day my mind, an island for tromping shores different from desert sands when the tide of your concern reprimands on this island the shells are smaller and there are no dollars,   the sea, a shrunken plastic expanse of syringes and lip balm containers, soft fluid-filled bodies turned into sopping brown-bag skeletons, revenges of modern life. there is a rivulet further up shore do you feel it? follow the inlet wind near a candescent pond there is a house open the door if you fall in a home can be found.
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Jan 12, 2017
Jan 12, 2017 at 1:37 AM UTC
inland heart
Nigredo Crawl to your calignous cave, where The carbon walls will encroach your gray matter. Choke on the ebb of your gnarled reason. Left imploring, You will breathe the expanse, planets will taunt you. Negligible, your ego will dissipate, For you do not matter, are not matter, will not matter. You will take the cathartic dragon, Purge the soot from its gaping nostrils. Shadows will multiply and thunder your eyeballs Quick silver tears will swarm your porcelain peel. So below, As above. Albedo I erupted from my candescent pool, where The ivory baubles pirouetted in the cerulean sky, Stimulated faith, insanity, rhapsody. My unblemished chalk fingertips traced star-letters, “I do mind, am mind, will mind.” Bathing in this serene elation, I released the congested swallows, Scattered feathers upon the wasteland. As above, So below. Rubedo Soon will be a crippling inundation of crimson diamonds, That will shred and tear her dusty membrane, Waning shards will slowly clear and stitches will surface. Recognition will ignite from her shadows and Golden love will germinate in the sandy dunes. Leaves will gather to crunch her toes. The vitality queen will reign from her throne, Encrusted with life, stone in hand, So above, As below.
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Jul 13, 2011
Jul 13, 2011 at 4:46 PM UTC
The Alchemist
A chariot is thine heart, O thou rich tressed Selene In which doth ride the tides, of ardor, tepid aflame. Strung to thy chariot by chords Unseen yet tangible knot, Whither thy chariot wandereth, Thither draggeth me, constrained. The chord unseen, yet bindeth, Ethereal, tenuous sublime, A barb so dolorous in seasons! Other times candescent delight. What causeth this bond precision? Nay no reasonable cause, Entrapped in each a residue from prior existence unknown? Why doth the string pull so constant, Tho' intervenes a thousand miles! Why cometh thine chariot instant, When unseen, my spirits' downcast? Selene! ageless,deathless, thy Endymion, Eternal though his sleep, Our souls entwined forever, Many an aeon shall we keep!!!
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Dec 13, 2016
Dec 13, 2016 at 11:19 AM UTC
unseen chords
Some days the sky is a glass chalice we hold between our lips to take a sip The palliative qualities divine in nature are seeping through the subtle splits on the surface of our palms Fleeting textures suffuse through our quivering hands Various hues illustrate the wrists as they coil upon the cadaverous structure Outlining our internal scaffolding with diverse shades Colours ricochet within our human receptacles Our bodies are prisms allowing the light of the sun to shine Beams break forth from the orifice that rests upon our undistinguished faces Reminders of what is within splintering through every available opening Wandering rays rendezvous at the core of the chest Exploring uncharted paths on the geography of our physical selves Transcendent roads vague to our periphery Slowly defining their forms on the outskirts of our wearied retinas Our illuminated minds, embodying the sun candescent stones fortified by layers of bone meant to hold their fluorescence Our organic beams of light, such tender arms, lingering in the punctured sky are using the clouds as paintbrushes, pieced together bits of mosaic already at their disposal Our backs resting on abstract clay with shifting pastels, whispering clarity into our cartilage leftover laments torn apart to bits with the newfound realization that we are whole. Like unearthed clairvoyance, we survey the translucent waters before us peering into the stillness our bodies disrupt like the pillars of beautiful dissonance they are
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Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 12:39 PM UTC
Light-Induced Paradigms
Some days the sky is a glass chalice we hold between our lips to take a sip The palliative qualities divine in nature are seeping through the subtle splits on the surface of our palms Fleeting textures suffuse through our quivering hands Various hues illustrate the wrists as they coil upon the cadaverous structure Outlining our internal scaffolding with diverse shades Colours ricochet within our human receptacles Our bodies are prisms allowing the light of the sun to shine Beams break forth from the orifice that rests upon our undistinguished faces Reminders of what is within splintering through every available opening Wandering rays rendezvous at the core of the chest Exploring uncharted paths on the geography of our physical selves Transcendent roads vague to our periphery Slowly defining their forms on the outskirts of our wearied retinas Our illuminated minds, embodying the sun candescent stones fortified by layers of bone meant to hold their fluorescence Our organic beams of light, such tender arms, lingering in the punctured sky are using the clouds as paintbrushes, pieced together bits of mosaic already at their disposal Our backs resting on abstract clay with shifting pastels, whispering clarity into our cartilage leftover laments torn apart to bits with the newfound realization that we are whole. Like unearthed clairvoyance, we survey the translucent waters before us peering into the stillness our bodies disrupt like the pillars of beautiful dissonance they are
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21
Maybe I was an ocean in a past life Drifting in and out of hearts   like old blood and clotting wounds alike And maybe I sank memories at sea And threw overboard emotions raw That drifted to the beach And caught in nets the pain, regret Mourns over and is swept up back again Failed attempts at revival New swimmer drowned in deep waters ****** him below candescent surface thinly veiled and out of oxygen Warning signs on sandy beach Hard to miss, at every bend But enticement, loneliness led you in Those vices, magnets, human virtue Lead swimmers to my muddy waters each and every time
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Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 12:48 PM UTC
Muddy
There are things, Dark and secret things, That hide in people. Carving up the bone And nestling in the marrow. Sinking sharp claws in kidneys. But you- You darling of beauty, you diaphanous prism of light, You cracked star shining- You exist and therefore there is brilliance in the world. You are a city of light Set up on a hill for all to see. All who come to you, are touched by your brightness. You are a candescent and fiery thing. Like the sun and lightning There can be no shadows or true darkness near you. And so, Those who are empty- Filled only with insubstantial night and shades, With chiseled bones and a gloom that carries claws- Recoil and lash out against you. But you are bright, shining and marvelous. Like the sun and lightning You will again rise, and you will strike once more. You are fire and a prism and a fortress of light. You are glowing and brilliant and effulgent. You are so very, very beautiful. You are all things good. Lady, ‘Fierce’ does not begin to plumb the depths of who your are. Shine on.
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Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 5:33 PM UTC
Our Lady Lourdes
conversations are apocalyptic your thoughts ring cryptic the light behind your eyes is out filament broken, candescent doubt. distant life, a better time and now you speak a cynics line. a mind divided, a heart forlorn tedium heeded, mundanity mourned. your days seem numbered comfort through slumber your path moves slow, inhibition unencumbered. pleasure is tasteless your smile is null your neurons are wasting their time in your skull your voice found quiet, defiant heartbeat unheard but in your ears it is as loud as a funeral dirge minds recesses untidy, soul’s embers are flighty the heat of this bulb is on its way out mechanism dilapidated, candescent doubt
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Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 2:07 AM UTC
dysphoria
dimmed in-candescent trails streaming through thoughtlessness grow old in cold knowledge flutter and waste a shuttered taste dreaming of wonder, lust deeming trust a liars blunder knowing only flowing undertow bestow a bow upon the tower lead the weak to seek another pray for prey to bleed together cower beneath the power, beseech teach words that preach not leach we'll reach the peak of leakage peel back the streak of team credence desensitize the lies and compromise deny the times i tried to feel demise your eyes guided me, blinded me snatched vision from decision pale walls involve crawling, sprawling drawing proof to unroof this calling pawning you to the coup of dawning may we start again, this time, yawning?
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Feb 4, 2011
Feb 4, 2011 at 8:16 PM UTC
Upon An Awakening
Transient nights of sleeping alone, fingers tied in knots around my heart in wait. it slowly drums to this hollow, lonely beat. I know there is life and its all twisted inside. Eternity prisms upon grey desolate plains, a sound echoes across palpable heartstrings, its music, enchanting in crescent domed skies, my name on her lips, happiness in my eyes. I see the mind of her world, it sparkles and shines, her light, beautiful, inside. I wish I could come over, make your walls break. I want to get closer... much closer.. Her elusive heart, a tower to climb, her love for him, she cannot hide, jealous wrath that beats in time, and I feel nothing else inside.. Hope wrapped in coalescent knives, it's searing pain, always burning, corruption overtakes me, as it thrives, scalding torment in my yearning. I see the spire of her world, it spirals and entwines, it reaches the clouds and collides. See my light fade, watch it break... as you two get closer, much closer... until darkness is all that remains.. corrupted and twisted inside..
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Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 8:23 AM UTC
Candescent Obsidian
Brides of whitest, delicate lace, Gowns immaculate, as snow their face Softest pink, a blush to embrace, Rose, as rising sun to race Sheets of white, 'candescent as moonlight, Waves of coral, leaves and floral, Rows of candle, as calcic stalagmite, Mauves 'n violet as wild wood sorrel. So yon maidens of sweetest spring Herald the Queen Summer's oncoming Her nectarous drupe and fruit offspring The bountiful boon she will bring. Behold the language of your Beloved Speaks in tongues of secrets vivid Of kindness, giving, eternally sipid Of warmth and fire, of ardour vivid So when next you spy the verdant maidens Bedecked finery, blossoms laden, Whispering, bowing, to one cadence, Know you see the One true Haven.
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Apr 2, 2021
Apr 2, 2021 at 6:27 AM UTC
Immaculate
sometimes, girls with monogrammed backpacks will hold the boy with the tattooed arms a little closer than you want them to. remember that there has to be a girl who gets movie nights with her mother instead of a date with the boy with the candescent eyes. and sometimes, that girl is going to be you. but not always. oh darling, not always.
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Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 9:25 PM UTC
maybe i'm wasting my time.
My feet wandered into the serene shoreline while the strong waves hushed my cacophonic mind — I strummed my fingers and gripped tightly of my conch. While my lips brushed around its spiral shell — as I whispered my wishes and blow through, suddenly an angel flew by and swiveled — his wings burning. From the heavens, he falls right through the deserted sea. My naked feet began to push its life towards him — he lies on the sand and his wings burning through. Silhouettes of him rang on my mind; gashes of water fell through my eyes — and whilst even the silence grieved for us. His burning wings calmed the strong winds — the winter sea began to calm its strident waves as I let myself lie awake beside him. I closed my eyes and the replicas of myself flashed through like a candescent wind — and there I saw a woman lying in the hospital bed. The sun mirroring the artificial light through the windowpane; the man standing beside her had his wings folded — and his eyes cold as the winter and the woman dying in her tranquil sleep. The trees had fallen its last leaves, and the winter is coming at dawn. The man covered my eyes and I was at the winter sea again — “Mona, you will die in winter.” And I woke up. It was September.
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Sep 19, 2020
Sep 19, 2020 at 3:15 PM UTC
The Winter and the Sea
It is 3:00a.m, and a cold breeze has suddenly rushed into my room. These chills seem to have woken me up to have a conversation with the moon. The moon that remains so bold, to shine so bright in such immense darkness. How brave of her to have the ability to harness the tarnished cities of which she oversees.. the battered leaves that tomorrow, will leave with the breeze.. the purest hearts that drop down to their knees in the middle of the street begging you to please, have some sympathy.. the thieves that leave with the keys to our hearts, the ones who said you would never be stranded, yet you watched them depart. She sees the things that wake us out of our coldest dreams. And yet, her energy bleeds to relieve the shackles and loosen your seams. It seems we don't notice those that breathe, unless they play a character in this illusionary theme... a scheme of how things should be in society. She observes quietly. How brave of her to absorb the reflection of tears that fall on our floors. This stillness is something I have come to adore, more and more. It plays jazz music on the deepest depths of my candescent core. The door is open, and from myself, I am torn. I have decided to be bold like the moon's pull that allowed this ballpoint to roll. It is time for me to go back to sleep, and awake reborn. - L.G.
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Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 6:22 PM UTC
I Am 3 A.M.
strolling the candescent street they don’t make me feel like a creep my scent has you saturating with me it’s only me penetrating that place you really wanted to show me last week won’t you just lie in my face everything i do makes me weak i find myself fighting my others they’re whisperings cloud me with envy you’re too lovely some things in this world are god given they’re given as gifts but your sorrowing lies pity me
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Oct 11, 2020
Oct 11, 2020 at 9:35 PM UTC
nolige en meye brein
I am not scared of thunder The low rumbles cause no fear but when thunder is on the table It's my phone beckoning my ear I am not scared of lightning I look at the electric sky in awe But the candescent screen terrifies me because of the Caller ID that I saw I am not scared of storms the rain doesn't make me sad but a raincloud is hanging over me for that phone call was from my dad I am not scared of hail though the crystal bullets cause pain you have never cared about me so a call from you hurts just the same I am not scared of hurricanes though I think I probably should be I'm not here to soothe your conscience making you feel good is not my responsibility I am not scared of the weather for I know that it will always fluctuate storms don't stick around for long neither did you for the son you helped create
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Aug 21, 2020
Aug 21, 2020 at 9:55 AM UTC
Why do you call?
In my dreams, we get coffee. I don't like coffee. I tolerate it for you, even in sleep. you drive us somewhere, we joke in nonsense words in this swimming, changing sweven. each time I reach for you, long, languid, far away from you, my hand misses. I can't see your eyes behind your sunglasses. In my dreams you lift me, swing me round, tip my chin up, my lips parted ready to receive. romantic, amatory, intoxicating as my mind manufactures what your scent is remembered to be. your curls rumpled beneath my fingers, your lips crushed to mine. In my dreams, your fingers glide over my skin. I still can't see your eyes. obscured, hidden, far away from me. those voids I could get lost in, soft like trodden soil in a forest of forgotten name, the deep  warmth that I would tear the sky open to see, in my dreams they are shrouded. In my dreams, we are luminous, candescent, besotted with each other. in love with the coffee made of toleration, the car I can't recognize, the jokes spoken in garbled nonsense that will be forgotten as sleep slides from me, as your image slips into the ether. In my dreams, I can't see your eyes.
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Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 8:23 PM UTC
dreaming