"candour" poems
Spin a web...
a little tale...
with the
unwavering voice that
tells of limitless grandeur.
Weave the
finest threads of imagination,
laced with infinite magic...
into a spectacle...
of spellbinding tapestry.
Cast your palette,
unto canvas...
brush with the strokes of
your heart's shackled candour.
String your words
into phrases,
into sentences
that turn into beguiling jewels
that we...
only we...
see as poetry.
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 10:51 AM UTC
Weighing brutality's candour is taxing
Feeling the certainty, heavily dark,
Sonorous mutterings echo in twilight
Whitely, loquaciously, utterly stark.
***** ***** in a temperament simmering
Stalking through rage in a judgemental way,
Lurching for conflict from deep in the mindset
Locked in a skirmish of consequence play.
Searing white pain of brutality's candour
Reeling from obvious lack of control,
Obliquely collapsed beneath blue jackaranda
Flaccidly spent, I surrender my role.
Marshalg
In absentia
7 December 2011
Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 12:15 PM UTC
Save these pristine words
that spin from the mind
of this clairvoyant writer.
Cherish the candour
of his truthfulness
that is blazing inside.
His copious devotion
now falling here as
blue rays, a myriad
of his endless imagination.
This is only the beginning
of his roaring and firey
sea waves, that hides
many icebergs, to
sink and bury these
Titanic writers
once again, forever....
Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 11:53 AM UTC
Come, my darling, let us dance
To the moon that beckons us
To dissolve our love in trance
Heedless of the hideous
Heat & hate of Sirius-
Shun his baneful brilliance!
Let us dance beneath the palm
Moving in the moonlight, frond
Wooing frond above the calm
Of the ocean diamond
Sparkling to the sky beyond
The enchantment of our psalm.
Let us dance, my mirror of
Perfect passion won to peace,
Let us dance, my treasure trove,
On the marble terraces
Carved in pallid embroeideries
For the vestal veil of Love.
Heaven awakes to encompass us,
Hell awakes its jubilance
In our hearts mysterious
Marriage of the azure expanse,
With the scarlet brilliance
Of the Moon with Sirius.
Velvet swatches our lissome limbs
Languid lapped by sky & sea
Soul through sense & spirit swims
Through the pregnant porphyry
Dome of lapiz-lazuli:-
Heart of silence, hush our hymns.
Come my darling; let us dance
Through the golden galaxies
Rhythmic swell of circumstance
Beaming passion’s argosies:
Ecstacy entwined with ease,
Terrene joy transcending trance!
Thou my scarlet concubine
Draining heart’s blood to the lees
To empurple those divine
Lips with living luxuries
Life importunate to appease
Drought insatiable of wine!
Tunis in the tremendous trance
Rests from day’s incestuous
Traffic with the radiance
Of her sire-& over us
Gleams the intoxicating glance
Of the Moon & Sirius.
Take the ardour of my impearled
Essence that my shoulders seek
To intensify the curled
Candour of the eyes oblique,
Eyes that see the seraphic sleek
Lust bewitch the wanton world.
Come, my love, my dove, & pour
From thy cup the serpent wine
Brimmed & breathless -secret store
Of my crimson concubine
Surfeit spirit in the shrine-
Devil -Goddess ****** *****
Afric sands ensorcel us,
Afric seas & skies entrance
Velvet, lewd & luminous
Night surveys our soul askance!
Come my love, & let us dance
To the Moon and Sirius!
2.9k
(From a Persian Carpet)
Ash and strewments, the first moth-wings, pale
Ardour of brief evenings, on the fecund wind;
Or all a wing, less than wind,
Breath of low herbs upfloats, petal or wing,
Haunting the musk precincts of burial.
For the season of newer riches moves triumphing,
Of the evanescence of deaths. These potpourris
Earth-tinctured, jet insect-bead, cinder of bloom—
How weigh while a great summer knows increase,
Ceaselessly risen, what there entombs?—
Of candour fallen from the slight stems of Mays,
Corrupt of the rim a blue shades, pensively:
So a fatigue of wishes will young eyes.
And brightened, unpurged eyes of revery, now
Not to glance to fabulous groves again!
For now deep presence is, and binds its close,
And closes down the wreathed alleys escape of sighs.
And now rich time is weaving, hidden tree,
The fable of orient threads from bough to bough.
Old rinded wood, whose lissomeness within
Has reached from nothing to its covering
These many corymbs’ flourish!—And the green
Shells which wait amber, breathing, wrought
Towards the still trance of summer’s centering,
Motives by ravished humble fingers set,
Each in a noon of its own infinite.
And here is leant the branch and its repose
of the deep leaf to the pilgrim plume. Repose,
Inflections brilliant and mute of the voyager, light!
And here the nests, and freshet throats resume
Notes over and over found, names
For the silvery ascensions of joy. Nothing is here
But moss and its bells now of the root’s night;
But the beetle’s bower, and arc from grass to grass
For the flight in gauze. Now its fresh lair,
Grass-deep, nestles the cool eft to stir
Vague newborn limbs, and the bud’s dark winding has
Access of day. Now on the subtle noon
Time’s image, at pause with being, labours free
Of all its charge, for each in coverts laid,
Of clement kind; and everlastingly,
In some elision of bright moments is known,
Changed wide as Eden, the branch whose silence sways
Dazzle of the murmurous leaves to continual tone;
Its separations, sighing to own again
Being of the ignorant wish; and sways to sight,
Waked from it nighted, the marvelous foundlings of light;
Risen and weaving from the ceaseless root
A divine ease whispers toward fruitfulness,
While all a summer’s conscience tempts the fruit.
2.6k
Lying alone doing nothing on my bed,
I decided to write about you instead
Looking back to where it started
Now, it clutters again inside my head.
I remember, yes dear, it was Christmas
And I got no intentions for an us
Back then, I was just a simple grown up lass
But everything changed with that simple favor to you, I asked
After you responded, that ends there really.
And I'm sure, it's not just you who I asked, see?
You're just someone, and I'm not even being friendly
But a spark out of nowhere ignited unexpectedly
It took a couple of months for me to realize
Talking to you suddenly felt so nice
I'm even daydreaming you and I in paradise
In this dull world of mine, indeed, you added some spice
Late night conversations eventually came into place
We shared to each one the dreams we want to chase
Just in case I'm one of your dreams, you'll have me apace
Wondering what will my future with you, if ever, taste?
Believe it or not, my deep affections for you grew
Even if we don't converse, I, now, begin and end my days with thoughts of you.
I don't know what fantasy have I indulged myself into
But whatever it is, what I feel is sincerely true
Just so you know, it feels good to write about you, even just your name.
Oh Dear... can't you feel a thing?
Can't you see the fluttery in my heart that you bring?
I badly want to hear that you feel the same
Mr. Down to earth hunk, I'm clueless but hopeful
And I tell you these words with candour
You are one eye-catching beautiful creation --- that's one of the things I praise God for.
And to me, you bring happiness galore.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 1:24 AM UTC
You created the distance between us
so don't come back to me
when I boost my jetpack
and fly away to my old passions.
Do not come back to me
when I have settled
with someone else
or when your love life
suddenly starts,
then seizes to exist.
People make time for what they love
but your speech was not justified
when you made me more
of an option than a priority.
Don't come back to me
when I move on and discard
your smooth lies
and when I scrub
traces of your touch
from my hands and thighs .
My candour has been effective
and my armour has been scathed.
However, I have suffered worse
so I will never wish for your return
or our past times.
Living in the past is recipe for destruction.
This is a fact so take the instruction.
With long strides, I have picked up my pace
and with time, you will be replaced .
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 12:13 PM UTC
you speak a dialect of silence
your pupils flash from time to time
like a primordial light
I want to abandon myself at every corner
time is lurking like the plague
here comes the rain, the sun, the wind
again
my hands would speak
a dialect of fever
the candour of tears
sharpens the blood
to find solace in the colours
that curse their silence
to dissolve time in spoons of sugar,
in lost words, into some whispers of the rain
Oct 10, 2025
Oct 10, 2025 at 2:17 PM UTC
Sometime it flyaway to the sky
Passing through enclosure of cloud!
Sometime it climbs through the ladder of hope with wind
Reach in the peak of dream for eloquence of love....
Love for self.....life.... people....land and soil..........!
Sometime it swims in the ocean of felony and transgression
Searching gone astray generosity and candour!
Consistently it is vivacious and brings new notion to ponder!
Sometime it coverts contemplation to allure
Allure to aspiration
Aspiration to act upon
Then to poignant feat with great ecstasy!
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 2:27 AM UTC
In aloneness
all in oneness
thoughts trickle
never end
but never mend
these scars
The gravitas
weight of words
push and piston
beating heart
the rise and fall
of chests
Cold and candour
truths in clamour
cresting waves
the callous pull
in quiet calm
the moon
And so I gaze
in silent praise
the constellations
glinting stars
in tessellation
your eyes
As I became
so garrulous
and perilous
chit and chatter
careless talk
to self
While I beheld
the universe
reflected
in reverse
your eyes
the skies
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 7:21 AM UTC
there is a difference between honesty and candour.
there is a difference between pleasure and joy.
a difference between relief and relaxation.
a difference between sufficient and fit.
between comfy and cozy.
between placidity and tranquility.
between restraint and stillness.
between care and cherish.
light and shine.
love and in love.
easy and natural.
real and true.
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 1:33 AM UTC
White as Zenobia’s teeth, the which the girls
Of Rome did wear for their most precious pearls.
1.5k
( July 16th 01:10am)
Dear boy! The love that dare not speak it's name
which caused you suffering, expounds these days;
no golden sphynxes fold their wings in shame,
there's pride in gaiety and all it's ways.
To think that tiny window on the sky
was all you had, to show the world was real!
For bigotry and hate will always try
to break a butterfly upon a wheel.
Bereft and broken, still by love possessed,
you were vanquished by prejudicial law;
and yet, with trusting candour, you confessed
to all the passion you were fighting for.
From Paradise to gutter, behind bars,
Oscar was always looking at the stars.
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 8:11 PM UTC
After Do Not Be Ashamed by Wendell Berry
Unashamed
You can mute yourself at will
Or find you've hit mute in error.
On ocassion you might find
someone has muted you.
You can go off camera.
Observe and listen.
Unseen, unheard.
Ocassionally waving in the hope
that you will be called upon
to contribute
to comment
on the wisdom of others.
And after a while, on realising that
you've gone unnoticed, unneeded,
you give yourself permission
to walk away,
to simply listen in
while making a cup of tea.
And after a while, you walk out,
to test your necessity
and you won't be surprised
to find it wanting.
But then
as you return.
as you choose candour,
bear your inward clarity
raise your yellow hand,
as you select unmute, unashamed
click camera, unashamed
and find room, find voice -
then a sure screen will rise
from the margins and their eyes
will seek you out
and the mic is yours.
Apr 17, 2023
Apr 17, 2023 at 4:10 AM UTC
Touch:
and upon touching,
let a wanton look
dress your skin,
pressing its wants-
as in a gentle grip-
shaping my tongue,
to press tales
of soft request,
and taste the very giving
response of that same skin,
adorned and to touch
its naked candour.
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 1:23 PM UTC
1am, and secrets
Spill to the surface like
Sleep somehow has a truth serum
Effect.
At 4 in the morning,
If you catch me awake I'll tell you
Everything you need to know
And more,
But come sunrise I,
Like a tortoise scared,
Will curl back into
My shell and
Hide til dusk.
Don't think to take advantage
Of my tired tongue and
Truthful chatter,
But when the morning comes,
Remember I hold
Revelations inside me
Until I'm ready
To burst.
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 2:57 AM UTC
Oh, factious viper! whose envenom’d tooth
Would mangle, still, the dead, perverting truth;
What, though our “nation’s foes” lament the fate,
With generous feeling, of the good and great;
Shall dastard tongues essay to blast the name
Of him, whose meed exists in endless fame?
When PITT expir’d in plenitude of power,
Though ill success obscur’d his dying hour,
Pity her dewy wings before him spread,
For noble spirits “war not with the dead:”
His friends in tears, a last sad requiem gave,
As all his errors slumber’d in the grave;
He sunk, an Atlas bending “’neath the weight”
Of cares o’erwhelming our conflicting state.
When, lo! a Hercules, in Fox, appear’d,
Who for a time the ruin’d fabric rear’d:
He, too, is fall’n, who Britain’s loss supplied,
With him, our fast reviving hopes have died;
Not one great people, only, raise his urn,
All Europe’s far-extended regions mourn.
“These feelings wide, let Sense and Truth undue,
To give the palm where Justice points its due;”
Yet, let not canker’d Calumny assail,
Or round her statesman wind her gloomy veil.
FOX! o’er whose corse a mourning world must weep,
Whose dear remains in honour’d marble sleep;
For whom, at last, e’en hostile nations groan,
While friends and foes, alike, his talents own.—
Fox! shall, in Britain’s future annals, shine,
Nor e’en to PITT, the patriot’s ‘palm’ resign;
Which Envy, wearing Candour’s sacred mask,
For PITT, and PITT alone, has dar’d to ask.
1.2k
*A romantic grace that ebb and flows
A wilting palour, or gleaming candour.
Dressed in the most splendid melancholy
Dost thou, Yesteryears, again bloom and wreathe
Piercing the fibres of succoring apathy
Unyielding, haunting asymmetry
Ghost of my Roisin Dubh vent thy effrontry*
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 5:03 PM UTC
The moon senses my glee,
And so in him I confide,
He peevishly teases me!
And his candour he fails to hide.
The naughty winds eavesdrop,
And spread the word like fire,
Carrying my secret from the top,
They take it down to the wire!
Soon the scattered clouds asunder;
Join in unison and loudly wonder,
"So this is why her scarlet cheeks,
Convey more than what she speaks,
And now it has widely spread,
the reason why she blushes red.
Like a bright and luminous flame,
She glows at the mention of his name,
If his thought should cross her head,
She is sure to turn crimson red."
With a teasing twitter, every bird,
Hops around & spreads the word,
The flowers animatedly sway,
And scatter my secret away!
Further smeared by the rain,
Over the hills and over the plane,
With nowhere to shroud and hide,
My secret spreads far and wide.
Thus making it widely known,
My heart in rhythmic beating,
Cannot stop itself from repeating,
His name, in an undertone!
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 6:23 AM UTC
Forsaken by friends and family:
Abandoned in his wretched infirmity
To be pining away for sheer eight
And thirty weary years straight,
Was that bloke by the cool pool
Of Bethesda left. Yet like a mule
Did he stick to his lone faith,
That no matter how long he'd wait
For his miracle--he would nonethe-
Less in his belief in God ever tarry.
And so it was one dandy day,
That Jesus, on a short stay
In Jerusalem, for for him to honour
A feast there, did spot with candour
Clear, that impotent cove long forgotten
There, who was by sickness smitten.
Though a mother her child may neglect,
And his son a father may also reject;
Yet not God. Not the good and loving
Lord, even in spite of man's many a sin.
Heaven does never forget at all humanity,
'Cause the earth is watched by the Trinity
All the time without ceasing. For good,
Nay for evil; giving us breath and food
And everything that our souls so desire,
According to the will of Heavenshire.
The fulfilment of our life's dream may,
Like smoke in the air, linger. Some day,
Though, in God's how and time, shall it yet
To reality come, if in focus we do not fret.
For the compassion that filled his heart
With the kindness that could never depart
From him, Christ went over that infirm
Fella, that his healing he may affirm.
By Jesus was he thus made at once whole:
Touching not only his body but also his soul.
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 4:25 PM UTC
When time ceases and your world falls apart,
When trepidation clouds your imminent future,
For when everything you ever held onto is lost,
and your thoughts shamble past your once glimmering eyes;
For when you stop moving your dexterous arms and just lay,
You feel pain surging through your veins,
Detriment taking over exuberance
fighting your self doubting mind off of deranged thoughts;
For once you feel the need to close your eyes
and fight off the impassiveness that blocks your sight,
For once you just wish this wound would heal,
For your toiled life to just ease into calmness,
To be ridden off the weight piled on your fragile shoulders;
Your mind seives through various ways
To feel the ubiquitous presence of ethereal light,
To curl up in it's peacefulness and inevitably give into it;
Tranquility takes the place of hurt
like an addictive shot of cannabis dissolving into your system;
You feel the penetrating urge to hold on to it
To reach out to your sliver of hope with your scrawny fingers
and grasp it tight,
Your hope of a world inoculated against the social stigma,
Rid of narcissus and his obnoxiousness;
Where for once in your troubled life you would not have to hide;
You feel your numb fingers closing over something sharp,
Possessed by an unquenchable thirst for freedom,
Wanting to insinuate yourself with the ethereal glimpse of hope;
Your breath lies between the blade of wishful virtuality and reality;
Reality, a now tormented word,
a word defining a world arisen out of
A never satisfying greed for power and erudition;
You fathom your cognisant mind to construe the moment,
To feel a sharp paroxysm of pain, a flush of wrong;
An ardor to redefine reality,
To concoct the mundane world scrupulous,
To write the wrong;
The heart now pumps blood of valiance,
Belligerence to cause insurrection,
A piquant taste to live builds up,
To fight for righteousness and to die of victory,
For it is in our nature to fight;
The blade falls into the pit of cowardice,
And reality has been chosen;
Chivalry triumphs over death
and the **** that time is begins to run rampant;
The crusade soaring in your mind now vanquished,
Your fragmented scorched life now meaningful;
For you have been reborn,
a master of time and chaste;
Reborn into a warrior,
one who has fought off the wards of death;
Whose prudence his armour,
Benevolence his weapon,
Candour his speech,
Dauntless his demeanour and
Intrepid his blood.
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 10:00 AM UTC
The veil is now unravelled,
the storm dust now blown,
when left with the calm after the storm
even deciduous time seems forlorn.
There is the perfunctory trial
of breathing air to sustain,
yet in the end, I revive what,
the beliefs I let go,
the conviction from which I abstain?
I then saw reason, in this miniscule delight
of finding a realm that is positively alight
with candour and supremacy,
they regale without caution,
and entertain as they must,
in words left unspoken,
they reveal more than just.
The truth though is bespoken,
within the confines of deceit,
while the soul hunts for absolution
the mind quakes in defeat.
Annihilation is the quest,
that brought me to this place,
the answer that will be found,
is am I in passing,
or here to stay?
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 11:05 PM UTC
I.) Bodies of
Open lakes are naked
Their secrets,
Rub like salt.
How did one get here
What seized the labour of hands.
Do we deserve to know.
Do we deserve to know the extent.
Do we deserve to know the extent of our own subjugation.
Knees meet dry earth.
It's dry where we forget to water it
Not that it needs water,
Salt finds form
In our negligence.
Arid insincerity spoke of more.
II.) To follow
We left.
We did not need to stay
A dry sterile whisper kept us there
With it's pleas for us to leave.
The trust of invitation,
Burnt holes in our wings.
Untrust of warning,
Had us leaving without our things
I don't know which is better.
A departure announced drew heed to soft cartilage.
Unsharpened curfue split bone without piercing the skin.
The expression of self.
Callous wanderers knocked at no doors;
to accept rejection.
III.) Reintegration of being
The want of murmurs in wanton misuse
Kept us foraging for lust,
For more,
For inability in casualty.
We waited for forest to arrive,
Bare earth begged of no candour,
Trees deny script.
Unclenched hands greyed over context
As purpose gave none where some was due.
IV.) What the stars offered
A quest unrelenting bends bark in fervour.
Do we know why we left,
Cold hands hock at swords needed to keep slight wrists in check.
Or where we are going,
Our aimless pacing finds direction in blind eyes and guided hearts.
All the dust settled, buried in puddles like art.
And the thunder was there
The thunder never knelt
But we listened
To listen was the choice.
A brief connection with the sky
Through it's reproach
It implored for something more,
Only upon deaf ears.
Was earth all there was to rain on?
We thought, as the stars spat on us.
Celestial offering in cleanse not spite.
V.) Love
Maybe that's why we left.
To trascend our own ideas of love.
Innocent foliage made the path harder to see,
But easier to tread.
Gentle arches hug mounds of green
Like finger tips kissed by yonic flesh.
To remember the conception in contact,
Was to recognize our own affirmation
And any word intended for the ears of the unknown.
Blood is replaced where word is love.
VI.) Relation to self
To stay or leave was not the choice
The distance from anything was illusory.
The real choice, was acceptance of self.
After the end of our disintegration,
The dry heave,
Leaving without hesitation;
We are not without ourselves.
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 8:11 PM UTC
So what we live space apart
We got our love in spades depart
Love him I do maybe so it could be true
I only refuse to say it straight
cause he doesn’t say it too
It’s hard to gauge his thoughts and feelings
When mine are blurry too
It’s hard to know true love
When distractions are varied new.
Yet, I believe in our love,
It’s not lust it’s trust
In us, and on him
I do believe he means well
When he refers to his sins
Of his past and his candour
I don’t think he likes to meander
In lies and half truths but facts he tells
Things were complicated back then.
Insecurity is the root of unhappiness
He doesn’t believe in holding on to tackiness
I told him stop holding on to the past so tight
Make way for future and present in sight
He told me he has moved on,
he doesn’t give it mind
But holds on to techotcke and trinkets and trophies
Messages and muses and Sophies in mind
Distance helps the heart grow fonder
Yet I stay up all night and wonder
Where I stand in this whirlpool of thunder
Where is his heart if not next to mine?
Where are his feelings if not completely merged with mine?
He says it’s the distance that’s blurring his sight
He wants me but can’t do much
He is right in hindsight.
With trust comes baggage of responsibility
With love comes feelings of banality
The same old routine of trust and fall
The same unoriginality.
Need to break this cycle this time
Need to thrive not survive
Need to grow into a new you
Need to see things from a different view.
Only then can we stop this fight,
Only then can we move past this Sophie’s plight.
Dec 30, 2022
Dec 30, 2022 at 6:29 PM UTC