"citrine" poems
a parhelion forms with
the sun’s peaking out,
irradiating your eye
in crown.
there is a sanguine wonder
to your cigarette as
you drag your lungs
across the floor.
citrine is your smoke
crawling across
the bed.
light moves.
a nanosecond passes by.
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 10:23 AM UTC
~
Of light at play…day’s end, to cease
Now mirrored of a rippled sea
Casting long in shadowed dreams
A drifting silhouette…at peace
Sail on, sail on,
currents feed this destined course
Arcs, spun gold…on dance card wings
Lemon dust, the sifted sound
Framed of flowing tangerine
Silence sings…as truth is found
Sail on, sail on,
captured breezes…quiet source
Abstract waves…in curtained sweep
Drape this ocean’s fantasy
Melodic so the depth to breathe
Champagne tints the tapestry
Sail on, sail on,
horizon’s beckoned rendezvous
Citrine jeweled on zephyr’s flight
Calmly cools in twilight feel
Motions quell the rhythm’d night
Beliefs this sun shall soon conceal
Sail on, sail on,
as daylight disappears from view
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
Gemini ♊️
~~~~~
Gemini never grow up.They are so flirtatious
Ever wooing and seducing their audiences
Moonstone,Agate,Aquamarine,Tigers Eye
Into the healing powers of Chrystoprase stone
Naturally Green Tourmaline and Serpentine
I also see Anyolite, Citrine,Thulite and Variscite
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
December 22nd 2018.
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 8:04 PM UTC
Suddenly it’s broken.
My beloved
lies below my hands.
Aquamarine, amethyst and citrine.
My stones
now unstrung.
You were my ‘promise ring’
my ‘engagement jewelry’.
You gave it to me
and I promised to return to you
Santorini.
Then it shifts:
I am pleading
in your aquamarine waters.
“Forgive me”
Pleading to your citrine hills.
“I promise”
Pleading, pleading
while your amethyst moon watches,
because it is always watching.
Apr 28, 2011
Apr 28, 2011 at 9:47 AM UTC
Scraggly curl hair bounces in the air
wagging with whisky eyes breezy pleasing the eclectic electric hectic now mind
like finding a papaya inside an oyster
battery powered like a pomegranate passionfruit flower growing and glowing
around my trinity heart with the noise of a sphere's galactic ******
Crystal Citrine Mountains provide water fountains of sunlight
as so tye-dye t-shirt hip-cat hippos smokin' coconut shisha bathe in barrels
of bourbon.
Lion snakes spit words of worlds hurling nebulous timeline's spiraling
and crashing and splashing baptism ripples together painting Pollack Splatters
with the aroma of Byrd Jazz Jam on rye-whisky bread.
Fractal Berries served by the Far Out Faerrie Ferryman Skeletan with bejeweled emerald eyes
winks while I read in the reeds panting in pan-flutes while water rabbits scamper
into clay enclaves to bathe in pinecone designed sand-tubs.
The hieroglyphic phoenix twists and skip-scats neon green vinyl
turning the wind inside out to x-ray flames of fireworks.
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 8:01 PM UTC
Right now, loving you feels
the way my toes do when stepping on pebbles
(the stones they put on your back in physical therapy)
or mining ore -
supposed to be cold, but extremely hot to touch.
A copper meadow
shimmy into a tree so you can look up my dress
and catch me like gold armor when I tumble, tumble.
One defense, two defense, three defense, four
worms with spines as soft as hair
try to spindle cobwebs where we skip and hopscotch
skeletons dunk our heads in some sea
but pickaxes
make air pockets, iron is a pillow for us to sleep.
The lights cease when you leave
no longer nearby is the helmet that exudes site -
I think I could mine meteorite from your soul, there’s
only demonite in my own.
Let’s build a house with it
then wait for the bad men to leave, it is night again
perhaps they shall be burned by my evil.
Shrouded in wood, tucked into a golden chest
the walls are a deep purple
amethyst, aubergine, build our ceiling some citrine -
bunnies swallow the window frame
and I cry because somehow it is my fault,
I try to jump but I fall. And you open the door, you let
in some monsters, how I hate you for a moment.
But no bad man can get you
even ones who have skin sunken like a dead spider
pull out an archery kit
seventy-seven arrows, I put them all in hearts
leaving one special hook for you Cupid gave to me.
We make a great team
demonite meteorite silver copper topaz gold-tipped
and sterling the vultures listen in jealously
knowing this is what love can feel like right now.
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 12:17 AM UTC
Draped in fresh-knitted pearls
we traipsed
into saccharine peach orchard
The summer heat loped about our dew-kissed ******
****** - appropriated from dawn spent on neatly shorn plantation grass
Ambling into the knotted palatial arbor
we sat each in our own tree crux
behinds nestled upon ashen bark
Juice dripping in our grip
down our cast nets of flesh
sprawled about the branches
inset with gravity-defying liquescent orbs
dusted in translucent mink
painted with smears of
citrine, coral, amber, and ichorous
clinging to brass stem
The rondures secede to mandible
taut between palms pull and polished ivories
- torn-
Fluent in dulcet discourse
We cloak ourselves in provocative juice tatting
Until such time that our congealing garments
were found mapping the bark's topography
A saccharine map to the breath of soil
Bloodstone ants found our map
and had begun traversing - portent
to seize our treasure
We surrendered our jewelled cages
and took flight
to the sun-drunken lake to bathe
and swim
until heavy lids kissed moistly
heavily supped on the draught
sleep - beckoned transience
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 9:48 PM UTC
my mother insists
she was never a witch
but she gave me a bag of amethyst,
sunstones,
citrine
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 9:43 AM 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
[Dedicated to K.M.Ward]
"I will arise and go unto my father"
MALKUTH
Dark, dark all dark! I cower, I cringe.
Only ablove me is a citron tinge
As if some echo of red, gold and lue
Chimed on the night and let its shadow through.
Yet I who am thus prisoned and exiled
Am the right heir of glory, the crowned child.
I match my might against my Fate's
I gird myself to reach the ultimate shores,
I arm myself the war to win:-
Lift up your heads, O mighty gates!
Be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors!
The King of Glory shall come in.
TAU
I pass from the citrine:deep indigo
Is this tall column. Snakes and vultures bend
Their hooted hate on him that would ascend.
O may the Four avail me ! Ageless woe,
Fear, torture, throng the treshold. LO1 The end
Of Matter ! The immensity of things
Let loose -new laws, new beings, new conditions;-
Dire chaos; see ! these new-fledged wings
Fail in its vagueness and initiations.
Only my circle saves me from the hate
Of all these monsters dead yet animate.
I match, &c.;
YESOD
Hail, thou full moon, O flame of Amethyst !
Stupendous mountain on whose shoulders rest
The Eight Above. More stable is my crest
Than thine -and now I pierce thee, veil of mist!
Even as an arrow from the war-bow springs
I leap -my life is set with loftier things.
I match, & c.
SAMECH ( and the crossing of the Path of Pe)
Now swift, thou azure shaft of fading fire,
Pierce through the rainbow! Swift, O swift! how streams
The world by! Let Sandalphon and his quire
Of Angels ward me!
** what
3.5k
Delicious midnight,
kyanite and citrine crystal bells buzz
& haummm....
Piano notes dance around the room,
some sing silent eurythmy patterns.
An amalgam of pinball gypsy
time travelers colliding--
the timing couldn't have been more perfect
as we rest in the sacred loft
under the metallic ear.
Full Flower Moon
whispers persimmon kisses at 2am.
Here we rest,
a space for the timeless animals,
wounded healers,
soldiers of peace
all seeking a brief respite....
collecting energetic auric heart fire fuel
before we slingshot off in our kaleidoscopic time machines,
candles navigating to the darkest reaches
of outer and inner space.
Here, fear dissolves....
Here, light evolves....
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 10:37 PM UTC
Aries ♈️
~~~~
Aries children tackle life head on.
Ruby,Diamond,Amethyst and bloodstone
I know she’s into Aquamarine and Tourmaline
Especially pink, Dravite aka Tourmaline brown
Stellerite, Sardonyx , Citrine, Kunzite n Axinite
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
December 22nd 2018.
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 7:10 PM UTC
By midnight shine of streetlight glow,
On streetlight road fell citrus snow:
The chalky streams and powdered tides;
The tangy shores now come alive:
And to ignite the ember'd brook,
A cloudless clime so tender hook'd.
The night of sweet persimmon air,
Of quiet trees in quiet flare,
Instead of cold, white, winter blaze
My sleepless night soak'd auburn haze;
And sleep made be the dreamy flight,
The streetlight road ran just alike.
And this for me the lunar blue?
Some felon crime of citrine hues:
A nameless joy abstracts the heart,
Serene it is and set apart;
On streetlight road I met a truth:
And seamless be its natured proof.
Feb 7, 2021
Feb 7, 2021 at 5:38 PM UTC
My soul is trapped within
this room.
A bit strange and yet so familiar.
Or so I see.
It’s amazing how much
of a mistake
I am.
Just want to forget,
but can’t.
Do you see the scars?
I can
Within this shattered heart,
a victim.
A tiny locket all its own.
Devoid of feeling for me.
It’s amazing how much
of a mistake
I am.
Just want to forget,
but can’t.
Do you feel pain?
I can.
My voice is lost within
the echo.
It’s all around me, but
What I hear is not really me.
It’s amazing how much
of a mistake
I am.
Just want to forget,
but can’t.
Do you hear the harp playing?
I can.
Upon these unloved lips
blood drops.
A familiar earthborn tang of deception.
It I can taste.
It’s amazing how much
of a mistake
I am.
Just want to forget,
but can’t.
Do you taste salted tears?
I can.
My birth is sweetened citrus,
a boy.
Citrine and earthy.
An aroma of anguish.
It’s amazing how much
of a mistake
I am.
Just want to forget,
but can’t.
Do you smell the rain coming on?
I can.
Can you write in the dark?
I can.
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 8:29 PM UTC
i.
Her slimikin fabric
sophisticated,
Advanced;
ii.
By God's mighty hand's,
She was swathed in
citrine quartz.
A sparsile separated
From the rest of
The universe.
iii.
Unadulterated by the known,
She likes thing's that art not seen;
By day she work's, yet craves-
The fall season and it's leaves.
Though fall doth not arrive
On the island she resides;
So she crochets, the dreams she
Saves, stored inside her mind.
iv.
Though I knoweth one day, the
Season's that she pictures in her
Head; wilt be there in her fingertips,
Along with angelic colorful thread.
To make everything And anything,
Her string canst weave to be;
For I knoweth whatever she maketh-
It wilt be perfect from mine queen.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Sardua nagley dedicated( ang aking makakatuluyan) my soulmate dedicated- Filipino translation..
Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 6:08 PM UTC
When his familiars’ pounced
a little too roughly on the davenport,
the mysteries of the cosmos
flailed about as his soft,
satin bag took a tumble…
Citrine and agate tap-danced
under the bed, as quartz
whizzed wildly through the air
like a shooting star. Opal spun about
like a fiery pirouette, and amethyst –
finding it’s way on the windowsill,
bloomed a kaleidoscope of larkspur
in the sun.
Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 7:07 PM UTC
My words yearn
to wrap around
those warm bodies
breathing poetry
wandering in their beatnik gypsy mountain time
dancing in the citrine champagne universe
pouring daybreak stardust into hands
getting a buzz from the indigo vibrations
tickling the wild child turquoise flowers
blossoming from their hearts
opening arms
allowing my words
to slide over them
fitting comfortably
like a t-shirt or hoodie.
http://bit.ly/1Re2Ubu
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 9:27 AM UTC
Leo ♌️
~~~
Leo has birthstones of Onyx, Peridot,Ruby,
Even Turquoise,Amber,Citrine,Larimar,Petalite
Or Fire Agate,Red Garnet,Sunstones,Sardonyx
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
December 22nd 2018.
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 11:33 PM UTC
i.
Let the quartz
yellow citrine floodgate's flappeth open;
Their connected to the hip's, up to mine sweet Jane's lip's
Leading to heaven, thither the celestial, she's an extraterrestrial.
©Brandon nagley
©Earl Jane nagley dedication
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
Scalding my palm
On her rosy skin.
We are young, with a love that's warm
In it's infancy; honest, open, and giving.
I burn for her,
A wildfire of desire
With no forests' end.
I yearn to be the
One she does, when
She learns to love again.
Jun 25, 2023
Jun 25, 2023 at 11:27 AM UTC
in the darkness i find you
your face forming so easily
despite the dawns between us
incense fills the air
and i'm back there
in that first moment
your eyes sparking like a glacier
the air between us dancing
with a million words unsaid
i knew then what i know now
with oranges staining my lips
the pain of loving another
would never be as sweet.
Dec 30, 2023
Dec 30, 2023 at 4:55 PM UTC
I lived in a town where Sunny D dreams rested lazily on Mondays.
Nothing is go go go - no - it’s lazy to rise. Lazy to bed. Lazy to meet up with friends at the beach. Lazily chewing on donuts while we listen to songs that lazily leak through the teeth of our radio free censorship both lazily digesting in our sour guts making us lazy in the way we think. Feeding off the television, white noise static permeating the folds of our lazy minds. We now regurgitate headlines at parties lazily arguing, debating, though not a single thought is our own. We are lazy in the way that we say we’ll accomplish something. Making up little kid dreams for broken promises of “I’ll get to it tomorrow”. But we never do. Never did. Just lazily puff on ***** shards. Our crushed bits of ignorance. Every night. Lazy sods. Working, sleeping, working, smoking, sleeping, working.
The cycle goes on.
In this land where time takes a nap. Where magnolia groves now rest lazily in the space of an old man’s memories. You see, even time is lazy among salty air humidity that clings to lungs in a wet rag sensation so that we are lazy even in the way that we breathe. That’s why our grandparents tell us all those stories. So that we are not caught up in the lazy way light filters through the leaves of citrine sunsets that mingle into dawn.
Still, we yawn a question “what was I supposed to be doing again?” Here in this land where we all seem to exist in a static myth. Start another lazy day. Lost to IT. The big IT. The ever growing IT. The IT that consumes our lazy days with lazy work and lazy sleep and too much lazy play.
It’s easy here to let go of what this land used to be. Back when gold ships carried Ponce de Leon upon God’s wings to a place where Highway 19 was no pavement or brick or man made industry but rough and raw and hot
and undiscovered Timucuan territory. We effortlessly lose sight of our own history to lazy daydreaming
That slow,
drip
drip
drip
of time leaking into tomorrow leaking into tomorrow
leaking into tomorrow leaking into tomorrow
Until your future
leaks into tomorrow
Until you wake up from this lazy hell.
Until you realize there is nothing left ahead on your lazy path
Until the future has become your present and you are out of
Days to dawdle and to say “I will deal with it tomorrow” before it all
None too slowly
Rather abruptly
Comes to a clashing end.
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 11:38 AM UTC
@@@blue pink@@@
@@@russet purple@@@
@@red yellow \ / orange teal@@
@@ochre violet @@ puce lavender@@
@@green brown ¥¥ turquoise navy@@
@@scarlet citrine ¥¥ cerulean black@@
copper silver ¥¥ golden bronze
peach wine ¥¥ periwinkle
rose champagne ¥¥ blue chartreuse
carnation marigold ¥¥ buff ecru mahogany
@emerald sapphire ¥¥ amber opal pearl@
@raven oriole rainbow russet@
@@ @@
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 4:50 AM UTC
Those houses are gold across the water
citrine streaked and royally gorgeous
a bit like mermaid hair under the boats
there's a story i can't quite remember
A little boy and the sun whom he loves
every evening she'd paint the windows
for a while they'd be a splendid kind of beauty to see
'oh what wonderful things must be behind that window'
he had so much hope for things that disappeared but
never failed to return
Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 11:52 PM UTC
I am not sure which is bloodier, more gruesome –
birth or death. It is like asking God if he prefers Eve to Adam
for demolishing that false sense of security,
specks of pride dissolved in snake venom apples.
There is mourning in creating monsters
as there is in killing them: I see starving children with
round, pregnant bellies and somehow they are more at peace than
I am on my best day. We will understand when we are dead,
not in the act of becoming a ghost, but once we are one.
When I was little, I saw the house on Camellia’s corner
crumble: attacked from behind, the same swamp I had in mine.
I had not noticed its yellow shingles before
and suddenly, this nine year old girl felt lonely for
bricks and plaster and the refrigerator hung on its balcony door.
On its side like a woman in labor –
midwives have her in a kiddy pool, the origin of its
name. Imagine being baptized before you take your first breath.
Ametrine is an amalgamation of two gemstones:
amethyst and citrine. I am that of my parents, one quarter grandma.
She who I never met but got my alcoholic mother from.
My clumsiness stemmed there, the constant
stumbling on invisible rocks and breeding ****** knees –
having two daughters who bleed monthly, but it’s never in sync.
Still, I cannot grasp being proud of ghostliness
when there are millions of invisible children in clear blood.
Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 3:47 PM UTC