"carnelian" poems
Capricorn ♑️
~~~~~~~~
Capricornian don’t mind me. I can’t live as you.
As you have the highest of standards always.
Peridot,Garnets, Agate or Turquoise to wear
Ruby’s grace a beautiful young maidens hair.
I can see the jewels in your eyes as you smile.
Carnelian stones or Malachite for soul healing
Or Jet ,Smokey Quartz or shiny Black Onyx.
Red Garnets,Blue Aragonite,Green Tourmaline
Nonsuch is the birth symbol ,graceful as thee
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
December 19th 2018.
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 8:34 PM UTC
I'm
breathing
hurriedly...i'm
r e m e m b e r i n g
c o n c e n t r a t i n g
trying to p i c t u r e :
~~ A ~~
P--lethora of trees, flowering plants...across and beyond...surround the
L--ustrous surface of the rushing blue green water...spraying...
nourishing
A--maranths and azaleas, with its windblown mists...refreshing.....see,
C--reeping creatures underwater could not ruin the quietude it emits
I--nimitable is its Serenity...nothing else is at par.............its
D--impled surface, tiny ripples running, creating streams of dreams...
whispering
W--ords...a gentle massage, washing away rage, misery...like precious
A--methyst, jade, citrine and crystals...shimmering down under,
rebuilding, helping
T--urquoise, gently touch with its sea blues...above, under...wherever
E--merald waters, against red carnelian rocks...to weather...endure...to
R--escue someone reeling...patiently...with words mollifying...and
sprays of
S--alty mists..soothing pensive eyes, mind, soul...cleansing...healing
CHAKRA...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Placid~waters~run
b e h i n d~~me
b e f o r e~~me
deep~~within
~~ m e ~~
~~~~~
Sally
Copyright September 3, 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 8:36 AM UTC
Sere and yellow,
Rough and round, [bright pebbles in a mound]
Pitted and mellow,
Winding our necks round,
We wore them.
Amber beads unearthed from clay,
Fashioned by my artist love,
Glowing yellow, filled with day,
Captures sunbeams from above.
I still love them.
Some say gods have made these,
To ensnare the light of Sun,
But we women saved these,
In memory & hope of sons,
We keep them.
Fat & smooth as butter,
We turned them in our hands.
The bone beads scraped with madder,
The amber just with sand.
Those of shadowy carnelian
Embedded like a shield,
We treasure as we fear them,
Like wounds on battlefields.
The others soaked with brownish earth,
Sere and yellow,
Rough and round, [bright pebbles in a mound]
Pitted and mellow,
Winding our necks round,
We wore them.
So, when we are dead, take not from us,
These rounded, golden suns,
But bury them with us, with sword and severed buss,
To revere the slaughtered ones,
Who never returned to us.
Revised November 15, 2016
Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 8:55 AM UTC
Virgo ♍️
~~~~
Virgo needs be a person advocating virginity
I know because I have fusion and experience.
Realistically fusing together two personalities
God knows n loves my approach and approves
Of Peridot,Carnelian, Blue Sapphire,Tourmaline
Of Green ........
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
17th December 2018.
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 9:24 PM UTC
Taurus ♉️
~~~~~
Tourean girls have an inbuilt stubbornness
And are partial to the birthstone Sapphire
Understanding An Emerald and Aquamarine
Rhodonite, Amber,Lapis Lazuli and Tiger’s Eye
Universal faith in crystal’s Kayanite n Kunzite
Spiritually in tune with Carnelian and Azurite.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
December 22nd 2018.
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 7:37 PM UTC
Diamond dewdrops, silvery horse,
Untainted innocence stays its course.
Topaz ring, rising sun,
Unchanging euphoria, can’t be undone.
Rose-quartz sunset, tender kiss,
Soft and sweet, untouched bliss.
Sapphire sky, reflection in rain,
Peaceful, majestic, free from pain.
Emerald eyes, sweetened lime,
Smooth and easy, not moved by time.
Ruby fruit, open heart,
Unchecked passion from the start.
Carnelian flower, flame burns brisk,
Wild and new, a daring risk.
Amethyst crystal, curtain drawn,
Beauty and tension reveal their brawn.
Obsidian stone, midnight’s scare,
Bitter-sweet, painful, almost despair.
Opal dream, colour-streaked dove,
Who can unravel the mysteries of love?
Oct 27, 2011
Oct 27, 2011 at 7:42 PM UTC
The sky’s a light carnelian’s shade
and, as the brightness starts to fade,
from carnelian to carmine he turns, too-
soft to vivid tones of the hue.
Looks into the ‘windows to my soul,’
(‘windows to one’s soul’ he called them)
The intensity nearly swallows me whole-
his windows a pair of solitary gems.
Eyes the colour that fire should be,
a fury to turn flames green with envy.
So as carnelian turns to carmine
and the heavens light up with his glow,
a firefly’s brightness is overshadowed,
but the yellow is whitened down in snow
A lone, saphhired rhododendron in full bloom
unaware of its death in a pluck so soon
The furious ball of rage sets
and us (three!) need to return
-a lingering gaze for a moment too long,
cheeks of crimson and burn!
For too long have we tarried,
our hours have wasted the day
Find no longer a reason
nor any excuse to stay
Peer over the edge a last time
(indecision, in control)
At the vast expanse of cerulean, sublime
(pause to contemplate my goal)
Tucks the blooming rhod’ between a lock and an ear,
breathes, “it looks prettier still here,”
for another second holds ( ) near
and in parting’s ‘sweet sorrow’ starts to disappear
A gunshot echoing, a resounding sound,
as he turns away from the mead’.
His body slowly hits the ground,
and I know I’ve killed him dead.
For the first time, a lamenting tear’s grace
rolls down one side of my face
and all I see is red.
A gunshot, a second time, lying in bed,
brow, hair, pillow- all soaked in red.
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 1:47 PM UTC
You offered me your body,
I offered in return:
A tuna fish sandwich,
A nice piece of carnelian,
Maybe a book or two about odd things
like death by electrocution or Leonardo da Vinci
or the history of the upright bass,
Endless records,
Enough jazz to paint the world blue,
My mouth forming the shapes of notes,
A breath from my own lungs,
The scarf which was lovingly knit for me
by my one remaining friend,
Lipstick, bright red and smooth,
Feathers from a hawk that I found by the road,
Dried pink roses from a corsage,
Two baby teeth in a container that once held film,
Hair shorn with a dull kitchen knife,
A collar of cracked burgundy leather,
Sachets smelling faintly of lavender,
A mirror which was cracked on my thirteenth birthday,
One lace glove.
Why did you leave?
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 9:19 AM UTC
I.
It was peppermint,
snowflake blonde hair spilling into gold
the foxlike amber of my skin
against her phosphorescent white.
She made me seasick with her bird-blue eyes
and stuck like cotton candy to my fingers.
II.
Her name was Phoenix,
and she scared me with her firecracker will.
It made my lungs into waterfalls
my thoughts and fingers, butterflies.
My carbon-copy hair carnelian red
a solar flare, an Icarus, an imitation star.
III.
We were virgins,
and volcanoes. Sharing milkbox wishes
on rooftops and climbing trees like horses
instead of tiger-mouthed boys.
We swallowed the citrus-colored summer
like gingerbread and lemonade.
Mar 22, 2013
Mar 22, 2013 at 9:54 AM UTC
The motion of your body
in the throes of getting through to me
are a dance I'd like to fold up
and put in my pocket.
The hinge at the wrist
and a nonchalant manus
looking to the west waiting
for an answer...
I find wondrous waterfalls
falling from the tips
of every finger
cascading.
There's a world within your grasp
as you transfer your temple between
the infinite bubbles of your surrounding space.
Your eyes saccade softly yet swiftly
as they envision worlds from other dimensions that I can only visit through your woven webs.
I will lay in them and swing
as a hammock in the summertime.
We will weave them together
as our phenomena emerge
into sacred universal patterns.
Our contents will thaw when
the sun starts to stay longer,
they will melt and flow
as our crystal lattice structures
ceaselessly shatter and
recrystallize into geometric flowers.
We are dancing rocks
We are dancing rocks
who have learned
how to love and —
Now we are aflame!
We are licks of carnelian
shifting to a roaring citrine.
Now we are jade flowers floating
to tropical turquoise waterways...
Kyanite kites flying into
deepening oceans of lapis lazuli.
Gold flecks
explode into purple
as our eyes flutter open into
bursts of bright white feathers.
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 10:20 AM UTC
Tremble
by Michael R. Burch
Her predatory eye,
the single feral iris,
scans.
Her raptor beak,
all jagged sharp-edged ******
juts.
Her hard talon,
clenched in pinched expectation,
waits.
Her clipped wings,
preened against reality,
tremble.
Published by The Lyric, Verses Magazine, Romantics Quarterly, Journeys, The Raintown Review, Poetic Ponderings, Poem Kingdom, The Fabric of a Vision, NPAC—Net Poetry and Art Competition, Poet’s Haven, Listening To The Birth Of Crystals (Anthology), Poetry Renewal, Inspirational Stories, Poetry Life & Times, MahMag (Iranian/Farsi), The Eclectic Muse
Keywords/Tags: Tremble, predator, raptor, hawk, eagle, falcon, talon, beak, wing, preen, preened, preening
Ordinary Love
by Michael R. Burch
Indescribable—our love—and still we say
with eyes averted, turning out the light,
"I love you," in the ordinary way
and tug the coverlet where once we lay,
all suntanned limbs entangled, shivering, white ...
indescribably in love. Or so we say.
Your hair's blonde thicket now is tangle-gray;
you turn your back; you murmur to the night,
"I love you," in the ordinary way.
Beneath the sheets our hands and feet would stray
to warm ourselves. We do not touch despite
a love so indescribable. We say
we're older now, that "love" has had its day.
But that which Love once countenanced, delight,
still makes you indescribable. I say,
"I love you," in the ordinary way.
Winner of the 2001 Algernon Charles Swinburne poetry contest; published by The Lyric, Romantics Quarterly, Mandrake Poetry Review, Carnelian, Poem Kingdom, Net Poetry and Art Competition, Famous Poets and Poems, FreeXpression, PW Review, Poetic Voices, Poetry Renewal and Poetry Life & Times
Mar 16, 2020
Mar 16, 2020 at 5:25 AM UTC
The Effects of Memory
by Michael R. Burch
A black ringlet curls to lie
at the nape of her neck,
glistening with sweat
in the evaporate moonlight ...
This is what I remember
now that I cannot forget.
And tonight,
if I have forgotten her name,
I remember ...
rigid wire and white lace
half-impressed in her flesh,
our soft cries, like regret
... the enameled white clips
of her bra strap
still inscribe dimpled marks
that my kisses erase ...
now that I have forgotten her face.
Published by Poetry Magazine, La luce che non muore (Italy), Carnelian, Triplopia, Net Poetry and Art Competition, Poetry Life & Times, The Eclectic Muse, Strange Road, Inspirational Stories, Kritya and Centrifugal Eye
Keywords/Tags: Memory, effects, affects, hair, ringlet, neck, moonlight, vapor, evaporate, bra, clips, wire, lace, flesh, dimpled, kisses, erase, name, face
Mar 7, 2020
Mar 7, 2020 at 11:18 PM UTC
My God is living color
a translucent Fire
the traces of Your fingers drip like Gold
Your face blood Ruby red
split with veins of Garnet orange
Carnelian swirls ascending from Your feet
Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 5:39 PM UTC
Redolence
by Michael R. Burch
Now darkness ponds upon the violet hills;
cicadas sing; the tall elms gently sway;
and night bends near, a deepening shade of gray;
the bass concerto of a bullfrog fills
what silence there once was; globed searchlights play.
Green hanging ferns adorn dark window sills,
all drooping fronds, awaiting morning’s flares;
mosquitoes whine; the lissome moth again
flits like a veiled oud-dancer, and endures
the fumblings of night’s enervate gray rain.
And now the pact of night is made complete;
the air is fresh and cool, washed of the grime
of the city’s ashen breath; and, for a time,
the fragrance of her clings, obscure and sweet.
Published by Poetry Magazine, Poetic Reflections, The New Formalist, Carnelian, Little Brown Poetry, Poetic Ponderings, Poem Kingdom, Net Poetry and Art Competition, The Best of the Eclectic Muse 1989-2003, Romantics Quarterly, Sonnetto Poesia, Poetry Life & Times and Trinacria
Keywords/Tags: Sonnet, night, darkness, violet, hills, rain, fresh, cleansing, fragrance, perfume, clings, clinging, obscure, sweet, concerto, dance, dancer
Mar 16, 2020
Mar 16, 2020 at 11:16 PM UTC
Darkness entrance
The carcass of light
Empty
Floating through
The caves of mind
Still
Carnelian bursts
of crystalline sight
Exposed
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 8:39 PM UTC
Lightning strike
Secret places
Eyes touched
Magic created
Elemental allies
Sunrise smile
Carnelian soul
Healing touch
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 1:44 PM UTC
This Carnelian sat beside me,
cast of archaic continents,
rose from its molten womb
to catch and reflect
the candle light of my
other companion,
staunch and white.
Its rough stillness testament to
the tumultuous birth made it so.
Resting and being caressed
by the candle's touch
so like its mother's,
though softer now as both have aged.
Do they hear the call of darkness,
not guttural, but a primordial yawning
that becomes them
dancing to bed?
Or are they deaf
with the mews of each others love,
and the space sharing everything it is between?
All tired children come home,
and those that sleep on the street
know out of necessity a warmth
imparted by no hand.
While here,
I,
the poet,
retired of my earth-cast shoes,
like the Carnelian,
am remembering why the smoke rises.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 2:35 PM UTC
thick curly black hair
huge dark carnelian eyes
beautiful harpie
petite to a perfection
each curves return a wonder
her face the shape of a heart
with a tiny freckled nose
full lips all scarlet painted
this goddess from the levant
so luscious and flirtatious
a sweet ripe pomegranate
asking to be peeled
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 11:30 PM UTC
Cancer ♋️
~~~~~~
Cancerarians are high on the emotional scale.
And they benefit from Emeralds and Rubies
Natural Amber,Rhodonite ,Rainbow Moonstone
Chrysoprase,Carnelian, Citrine, Moss Agate.
Even with the beautiful crystal Fire Agate
Ruby stone and Pink Tourmaline healing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
December 22nd 2018.
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 11:15 PM UTC
She walks among stars as gods
bathed in blood
Her ***** maggots feast
Her eyes
an enchanting promiscuous carnelian culmination
such as one can't resist
A silent epitaph belies a deadly kiss bliss
until nothingness
You surrender
for death is sweeter than water gold
*** and taxes
Drink ye up lads and lasses
for her love discriminates not
Fill ye bowels of concupiscence
and prepare
to meet
My Queen
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 10:47 AM UTC
Soon to be so real.
I choose a name
to take
the place
of the
name she
gave me
at birth.
Why would I want to be named
after your **** addicted friend
and unrequited love interest?
Soon to be so real.
I choose my own
good name
to take
the place
of the
name of
my cut
blood ties.
Why would I want the name
of the alcoholic ***** sprayer
who saw the baby face and ran away?
I'm not
the men you knew.
I'm not
the man you will.
I am the practical
implementation
of a carnelian lust.
The trumpet of
the name of shame.
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 9:57 PM UTC
keen eyes penetrate you
silver tongues in your sky
you’re the illusion that raised me
that laugh cannot lie
count your life in your giggles
I’ll measure the millions of sunsets
hunting hazel for miles
the horizon empty of our regrets
I become your blankets and sheets
you enter me through my skin
the longest wave right in front of me
my lips stuck to your chin
carnelian dreams ensue in orange
obsidian hopes flourish in black
I look through the jasper to your soul
please never turn back
It might not be love
I might be wrong for you
but you’re not just another passing miracle
and I will never let you fall through
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 7:34 PM UTC
The Watch
by Michael R. Burch
Moonlight spills
down vacant sills,
illuminates an empty bed.
Dreams lie in crates.
One hand creates
wan silver circles, left unread
by its companion—unmoved now
by anything that lies ahead.
I watch the minutes
test the limits
of ornamental movement here,
where once another
hand would hover.
Each circuit—incomplete. So dear,
so precious, so precise, the touch
of hands that wait, yet ask so much.
Published by The Lyric, Carnelian, Net Poetry and Art Competition, Poetry on Demand, Famous Poets and Poems, ImageNation (UK). Keywords/Tags: watch, hands, watching, time, movement, circles, cycles, circuits, minutes, limits, wait, waiting, death, incomplete, reunion, companion, ahead, night, bed, moonlight, crates
Mar 23, 2020
Mar 23, 2020 at 11:09 PM UTC
My Lady Ophelia of the Golden Fleece.
With hair spun by the Sahara Sun
and alabaster skin. Eyes of indigo
flames and lips that have the
pop of the poppy. Her lush
body fitted in emerald
enchantments and
threaded
silver thistles.
See her sailing by the
moonlight on an ethereal sea,
upon her ship, the Tears of Joy.
The Emperor's Butterfly in her hair
with shining wings of gossamer threads.
Oh! I marvel the twilight afterglow
kiss her skin, making her a peach
rose. From her carnelian cup,
she sips the nectar -
moscato sweet.
Her first sip was of
gumdrops, then roses,
and after that, the more. Salty
tears from a mermaid's cheek, the
whispers of wisteria, the laughter of
springberries, the kisses of sweet neroli
and the tartness of plum toffee. She
passes by Aegean Ruins, her
secret retreat upon the
White Cliffs
that is west of
the moon. The beauty of
this lost history is as soft and
deep as an angel's sigh, with its
enchanting mist like graceful tendrils.
The shadows of the Black Hills bloom. She
coats herself in a cloak of midnight and
she descends down, setting foot
ashore. She walked down
the winding road of
burnt orchids
and lavender sands.
She had heard whisperings
of an unfound door and the Dream-
weavers of the Sable Heart. And so she
wanders... passed the midnight trees and their
sad serenades. The chill of sea ice and the
sharpness of pewter buds. The mist
dances. It twirls. Pirouettes.
Arabesques.
It circles and hisses.
Circles and hisses. Circles
and hisses! And there it was, the
unfound door made of crystal shadows.
Lady Ophelia of the Golden Fleece, extends her
hand and holds the **** She twists and
enters...
Sep 24, 2017
Sep 24, 2017 at 6:09 PM UTC
My body is at home with your body.
I cannot explain
Why my heart pounds
So quickly, aching.
You exist and I exist;
This is all I need to be real.
Your whisper voice,
Your carnelian eyes,
Your arms that won't release,
Your lips that won't relent,
Your spirit so like mine.
Unexplainable, yet,
Perfectly understandable.
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 2:59 PM UTC