"crystaline" poems
*A coarse, yellow coat with dark spot aplenty
Lean as a greyhound with limb long and lengthy,
Faster than hare from a cold standing start
Impossibly glimpsed in tall grasses that part.
Crystaline jewels in two huge hazel eyes
With the svelt of a feline’s cold killing surprise,
Explosively quick with an elegant gait
And a murderous jaw full of canines that wait
For a fleeing gazelle or a springbok at speed
Then a launch that would emulate bullet, when freed.
Incredibly smooth with a fast loping stride
That would tax any racehorse an envious ride,
Snapping manouvers to left and to right
That mirror a quarry’s evasions of flight.
A blur in a frantic explosion of dust
Then the life blood erupts, splashing red as the rust.
Heaving great flanks after thrill of the chase
Wide open muzzle and gore on the face,
Guarding the game till the kittens locate
Then the spoils of the chase will make portions dictate.*
Marshalg
Serengetti Plain
Central Africa
30 November 2012
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 5:46 PM UTC
Ever present life...
Ever present life...
3ver press a k̫͘ń͙ḭ̧̼̳̠͔f̢̺͙̥̣e̵̮̯̟̙̰ͅͅ
against the dying, glowing l̵i̎̓ͣ̚ghͦt͂͌ͧ͌̄ ̛ͣͧ͐̾ͦ̅ǒ̐ͩ͌̓̾͋f̡ͥͪ̑͆ ͝ļ̉̆̎ͮ͛ͪͩĭ̶̎̉̐f͑ͪ̓e͗̏͛ͥ͆̏͐?
W̡̠̘̭͛ͪ͋ͦͤa̘ͫ̆̒̈́͆i̗̳ͭͯ̾̇́̓ͫt̫̍ͭ ͈̠̯̻̖̪̹͌͑̽ͮ͛ͮ̃a̬̪ͫ̅̅ͯ́̈̓ͅ ̵͓̱̰͚̬͓̪̿͆M̞͍̤̤̱ͩ́̆̇i̪̬̟̪̹͍ͦ̓͗ͪ̐ͫ̐n̻͈̦̥͕͉̍͛͆̋̐͊u͍ͮ͌͛ͣ̀͘t̯̣̭̝̓͊̍̐̄ͧͦe̺͓̱͈̬̫̊ͯͥͨͯ͜ ̹͔̳̞̇͂͢this can't be me!̝̙ͦͧͧͥͫ̕!!
CHECK MY FIELD, REALIZE!
Still Sun Tzu
hit my enemy first
in the verses
no physical damage
no trauma purses to manage
I already lived afflicted with curses
from savage researches
Till I learned to shift my boundaries around me,
...That there’s still power in !̝̙ͦͧͧͥͫ̕category!̝̙ͦͧͧͥͫ̕
But not enough to stop me !
I broke the two ton shell OF CULTURE
but I’ll never stop hearing this ocean swell
sailors fly by wave to the 9th sign
Hi.
Î̝͎̪̮̣͎͈̮͖͈̼͕̞̠ͭ̍̓́͛ͣ͠͝ͅn̫̭̹̼̰͇̱̠̠̭͉̲̱̙̼͎̐̾ͨͦͪ̓̎̅̌ͬ͌̀ͦ̚͟͢ͅfͫ̆̐̾̂̃ͯͯ͌͑̄̌̀̅͂̔̋̀͘͏͎͇̭͓̜i͈̮̞̙̭͖͇͇̝̗͈̜̗̤̞͈̽̓̾ͪ͛̿͂ͯ͂̇̌ͣ̓ͦ̿ͮ̈͘͘n̷̷̡̠̘̘̦̬̣̺̟͖͍ͮ̾͂̈́͟͜ĭ̙̳̩͓͕̍̃̌͂͋ͪ̂ͧ̓ͨ̉ͨ͌ͨͤ̈̚͟͜͝t̵̴͖̣̳̤̊̈̎ͥ͊́e̛̺̭͚̻̠̞̙͍̞͚͉̝ͨ͑̉ like a Shepard’s tone.
Passionate like a Shepard's SON.
Intricate like a l̀e͊ͧ̓͛̑ͦ̃͠o͐ͭp͒͢à͢r͒́ͬ̅ͣͤd̑̍̿ͤͮsͦ̋ ̊̈́̀ͯ͐̅́tongue.
[[God said to me]]:
Work under the light of e̴͏ff͠ort͞ SON
You cannot break the stone without the Wind and the Ocean.
So we wander back into the liquid crystaline vision
Waves wander and ponder up through and fill my being
We release the storm my drips speaking.
But I can't hear cause there's still Too Many Lights.
Easily distracted
by how others say
"stay away from illicit people ..."
Illicit people ...?
More like
people illicit
[!?meaning?!]
formed inͧ̒͂ͭ s͑͆͒ͯͪ͊̚tͩͩ̂ͬͬͬ̌e͆̏͗̽e̚ṕ͒l̅ͮͤͧ̉̈ẻ͋̈́ͨͪ̓sͤ̆̍ͥͮ ̉̓̚
Responses from the ghost markers
self-induced parasites better host dollars people!
FC*K that!
>NO MORE BEING SILENT MY LOVE <
-Just watch and listen-
Tectonic plates shift
when I talk back
Demonic cosmic rift silent
when I talk rap
people never seem to mind
unless you say I did that
But you better believe
This ***** not much more than a formality.
Fancy phantasm shorn from reality .
Never base your life in a fallacy.
No waste your life chasing the phallus see?
L̎̒i͐ͤv̡e̓ͪͪ̔̾ͤ ͥm̓̐ͨ̑̈̄҉a̎g̒̽̍͛̽iͩͩ͑͟c̎ͬ̏̕ ̡̂ͫ̒̊ͧͪ͆
Like Harry Potter,
I always catch the snitch
end the game break my fist͆̓̽..̔͌̓͏.̛̾ͩ̒ͣ
So few leave this life of crime
now I teach yoga
super stack your spine
till that ***** aligned
so try and find me
I’m in orbit right outside the mind b.
To look up my next move in the dictionary
doesn’t make it a **** move, this is :
"My **** is hairy, I let it out at night like Bigfoot
and its OH so scary!"
Now WHATEVER YOU believe .̔͌̓͏.̛̾ͩ̒ͣ
.͆͊̚҉̦̝̪͈̗̝.̜̭͔̖̲̓̍̈́͗̉̽
.͆͊̚҉̦̝̪͈̗̝.̜̭̓̍̈́͗̉̽
I’m married to my Wife,
my Diction,
God and Mary.
Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 11:05 PM UTC
I had the good fortune
to visit it twice,
the first time
it was like the Marie Celeste,
dark with blue doors
and old coffee dregs shining on the base
of deserted mugs,
a full perfume bottle of Narcissus
glowed on a mildewed window,
for shame I thought , sketches,
letters, catalogues
all congealed together
in sodden shop boxes
I wasn't supposed to be there
then again in a dream,
all the walls were dark pink
and shelves were filled with treasure
trinkets for sale, I stopped at a pair
of silver earrings
and crystaline figures
that danced in unison
gold and black drawings
hung the walls of a bedroom
with roses for a carpet
a melancholy light
stilled the air, I wondered
how in god's name
did he fit there,
that tiny bed
I paused here,
others came in.
Mar 18, 2011
Mar 18, 2011 at 3:27 PM UTC
One tiny water droplet dances,
On a river of rushing air.
She races 'oer cumulus cliffs.
She tumbles down the nimbus stair,
And as she whirls mid the frozen flow,
Her body begins to turn to snow.
Relinquishing her liquid status,
Spreading forth her crystaline lattice,
She leaps from the cloud tops of her birth,
Forsakes the sky and drifts to earth.
Now me...
...I come...
Grumping down the stony street,
Back turned to the sky, eyes glued to my feet,
And lurking in my furrowed head,
Myriad troubles, worry and dread.
No time to look round, no time to see,
No time for laughter, no time to be.
Suddenly, a glint, flashing, captivates my eye,
Causing me to look upon a small speck drifting by.
One perfect snowflake, like a musical note,
Piroettes, hovers and lands upon my coat.
At once, the black veil distorting my sight,
Dissolves to reveal the truth and the light.
I look up, breathless, for now I can see,
The whole world is dancing and smiling at me,
And my cares, so tremendous a moment before,
Now seem quite tiny and sort of a bore.
I must thank this lovely creature who has perched upon my sleeve,
But all I found was a water droplet, slipped down into the weave.
And on that winter afternoon as I stood beneath a tree,
A small voice whispered on the wind and sighed...
..."Remember me."
Later on, the moment past, now back my daily trials,
And I, caught up in deadlines met, far from thoughts of smiles,
Reached for a pen to make a list of certain things to get,
Looked down my arm at the sleeve of my coat,
...and saw it was still wet.
(For Casey)
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 10:12 AM UTC
I heard a song
From within the rain
As it splashed against
My window-pane
Like a mystical bell
Casting a spell
I looked outside
While raindrops fell
Ripples of jingles
Guttering in song
As children in play
Went skipping along
Their faces a picture
In the beauty of nature
Laughing and jumping
In puddles together
Crystaline beads
Hugging the trees
As it slowly danced
To the musical breeze
Pavements of silver
Reflections of truth
Feeling the love
As the sun shone through
The skies ablaze
As the music fades
Where a touch of love
Now smiles above
In the beauty, born
From the rain.
© Jon.London 2010
Copyscape Protected
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 4:15 PM UTC
I see the cockroach
caress the counter next to a brewing
*** of coffee, striking a chord of
crystaline sweetness,
that God and Satan could both agree upon.
In the living room,
my best friends are killing each other,
kissing each other,
falling in love,
snagging,
splitting stitches,
chalk outlines,
black mail,
and hopes for a resurrection
swirl and spin with the scent
of perfume
and coffee beans.
My phone lights up with a message
asking for some real advice,
my response is to get a new religion,
and wait for the bombs to fall.
Outside
light pollution fills the sky,
an eerie day that just won't die,
negotiating with eager streetlights,
and all-night diners.
On the corner
of 23rd and Western,
a dancing grinderman,
a homeless woman with a snaggletooth smile,
and their prize of a monkey
are cutting the night with desperation croons,
and delightful foresight.
Just past the construction on the east side of the city,
a one-legged, heathen named James W. Green
is finding solace with
a defeated, overthehill harlot,
going to and fro in a motorized sanctuary,
and grabbing change from her coin-dispensing hips.
I discover a pen embedded in the carpet,
I spend the rest of the evening split
between Midnight Man poetry,
and dictating divine apocrypha,
while once bright-eyed friends of mine
mourn over marriage, self-medication strategies,
and scrape the bottom of the barrel
with their tongues to ensure it's tangible.
Jan 5, 2011
Jan 5, 2011 at 7:42 AM UTC
From smithson's crystaline jetty, I spy.
With my little eye, an isle of the dead.
Surrounded by the bland entourage of buoys
I stand heavy and still for an hour, but dry.
Wandering in my loneliness,
While I want to swim around the jetty of your eyes.
Aug 16, 2011
Aug 16, 2011 at 4:28 PM UTC
Talking in declarative circles
Grabbing you by the wrist
Don't detest as you utter in cackles
Trust me I insist
Pulling you to the center of your attention
I write in rhythm not in rhyme
Go ahead alleviate the tension
A new beginning intensifies through the time
Forgetting the bouts that we once fought
Learning to love one another
Remembering the life lessons we've been taught
Coming to understand the earth mother
Devotion to an ocean of imaginative thought
May seem imperative at first glance
However these gifts will always be brought
With each passing moment will come with a brand-new chance
An occasional opportunity may knock at your door
For the first time in your lifetime you'll accept it's power
Spread your wings as you take to the crystaline blue skies, Soar
Your standards will have no need to lower
As long as you believe in yourself
Trusting deep within
Medals of honor upon the shelf
Out taking life for a spin
Apr 9, 2010
Apr 9, 2010 at 10:31 AM UTC
Sky scraper pristine, crystaline
Oxygen deprived. Logic on the head of pin
Nearer my gods to thee. Ohhh the dizzying spin.
Father sun come down and cradle my chin. Lift my face skward.
Pray for return of the fiery.serpent birds of PRAY.
Come back to teach us the way.to the stars.
Atlantis today tomorrow the moon. Voyager fahter.
Planted the seed.
Summit to chasm
The higher we climb the less we can sea.
Reach higher still.still higher
and much higher still.
Instincive desire to follow and play with fire
We build the stepping stones to touch god's face
3-2-1
We are destined to all leave this place.
Fear not.
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 1:04 PM UTC
The little metal box it.hides in plain site behind the velvet painting of a Zulu warrior slightly off center a bit to the right.
The warrior. Hmmm.No The vault.
A naked dwarf. He struggles quietly at midnight to gather and drag my blocks of raw marble across crystaline floors to the vaault then
He stands there for hours before clcking the numbers.Clack goes the handle. Success.
The hinges have rusted since last deposit. He looks furtively over his shoulder as the metalic groan turns to a squeek. Abra cadabra.
Time to do work. Stealthy old fella he whistles while he works.
One block,two, three and so.
He forces the stones through a the four square door.
Rubs his hands together. Wipes the drivle from his chin
Then walks out the door backwards. The one he came in.
My vault is reloaded with pleasure and pain.
So I can write poetry again and again.
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 11:31 AM UTC
Sometimes you have to let go...
watch the glass fall in slow motion...
shatter into little pieces...
of broken hearts, so crystaline...
Eyes capture everything.
Fractals fractured.
Into failed dreams.
This emptyness within me, so much harder than it seems...
May 15, 2010
May 15, 2010 at 10:41 PM UTC
*A recollection of images serenade their emotions,
Crafted by a crystaline pebble; bathed by the cold winter light
Whilst I ponder the existence of sensibility and rationality.
All I could focus on
Was the tranquility of how a dying light ,
Conformed to the winter solictice,
Can create the essence of luminosity
Kissing the gentle drops of condensation,
Like a rose brushing the tips of a child's fingers.*
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 4:40 PM UTC
Scent of the storm you arouse in my heart
sends rainbow of blessings to bathe
my dreams
in showers of tasteful repeats with which
to start a cascade
of crystaline waterfall in glass-streaming rays.
Soul-warming feelings
in my pounding breast always astound me,
then reeling, set me alight.
Can a soul drown in vibrating soundlessness ?
Threads of an almost-created new heart stand
now impaled
by arrowed decisions because they have found
a fresh start.
They have embroidered time at each corner
of my blazing need,
stitched it with seed-beads to spare
the over-sewn grasses of autumnal hope
to show that though worn,
life is not yet beyond careful repair.
That being so, the taste
of passion's sweet stormy voice will never
again become effaced.
Oct 7, 2010
Oct 7, 2010 at 2:26 PM UTC
how does it rain?
how does it shimmer and sprinkle- ease the tensions
between skies pressures
and ground lessers
impulse actions
allow trajectory placement
true aim -
exists.
In the quiet flicker of heartbeat syncronizational blip.
only pre-destined by present fates , do we sing , and dance the life samba
whilst ********** the night with our eyes, the moons ripples cascade into waterfall turrents
and sink into sinkhole underbelly of cavernous , decadence
grand caverns , without owners name
natural built caves of crystaline exuberance
bigger than you
bigger than me
just two duckies sitting in an awfully large ponf
*pond
we're nothing but dust motes
yet look at at what we are !
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 3:16 PM UTC
Are we lost to a land of too many tribes,
Too many choices, of too many scales,
Too many communities of which to
avail?
Could we be better off fractured and scattered
Left shattered like glass by the highway
A shimmering reminder to the wayward passerby,
All is not lost though we
Subside
Could that we merely be torn asunder,
Pulverized, then obliterated by ritual fire,
Then wrung from the colluding liquified minds
Crystaline,
Incandescent,
Molten
Purifide
To form as before but free from parameters previously applied,
Forgotten in the furnace of insanity and strife
Stiffled,
Tempered,
Emboldend,
Refined
Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 9:31 AM UTC
Jewelled with
rainbow translucence roll
rain-bead *****
slowly down outer-windows.
Golden-globe
seed pearls, clear watery
glories slide
in uniformed lines, floorward.
Diamonds in
transit they shine and fire
sparkle from
each crystaline orb's inside.
Smallest gems,
if unnoticed, might seem
irrelevant,
joining the fall into sheen.
Caught however
by eyes with keen poetic
insight rain-drop
wonder bequeaths an ode.
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 6:32 AM UTC
Hidden from the world lies a place so divine,
dark and quiet, it heralds peace within.
A place know to
but a chosen few,
its walls laced with delicate ferns
dripping with crystaline dew.
Hear the drops and trickles falling
musically to the stream below.
Deep within its walls
dwell those shadowy few,
nymphs and faeries
and others too.
Niads and hyriads
and their spirit kind,
lie in serene repose.
Ye blessed visitors
who this place find,
Keep these secrets
so divine
Feb 6, 2020
Feb 6, 2020 at 7:33 PM UTC
We float over solvent crystals of life
Glistening in the all glory of our stars might
The wind winding round us
Sweeping up minute glitter
flicking the crystaline particles of life
As sparkles of radiance on our skin
A complement to sparkles in our eyes
A temporal tunnel borrowing the depths of faith
A moment hung in eternity
A transpiring of unspoken gifts and promises
Asilent understanding
A pledge of love in every realm promised
Agreement in the slow blink of an eye
sealed with polite fervour as a
Kiss over the salt waters
Cleansed and anointed by
The salt of the earth and holiness of the
Eternal presence the one who spoke existence
Consecrated by the eternal agapi in the struggle
Of the mystical meanings and the free will of our love.
A living story.
Dec 27, 2020
Dec 27, 2020 at 9:04 PM UTC
Your small silver fish
dangles from your neck
and slips
toward the light
illuminating my face
and shrouding your own.
I shout profanities
loud.
There is no beauty suddenly,
it has drained
down the storm sewers
that
I am so afriad of
falling down myself.
I yell profanities
loud.
Suddenly hysterics.
I have no sunflowers to give you.
They have shriveled
and molded.
And when I sow the seeds,
so you may reap.
You are gone.
I cannot find you in art
or Whitman.
Oh Margo, where are you?
You're no enigma though,
so perfectly crystaline
a lattice of exactitudes
that I can make no assumption
about.
I scream profanties,
silent.
It is only during night,
sweet night
that you can be found in
my magazines.
I want to pull off my skin
and paint with the blood.
Cover everything.
Where have you gone?
Polar bear drowned in the snow,
come to the North
and watch the sky with me
and laugh for a moment
as peace comes
through tea
and
under blankets.
Apr 17, 2011
Apr 17, 2011 at 4:16 PM UTC
I didn't know what it meant
But i liked it.
In all its ever-present, phantasmagoric, sundry forms.
I liked how it wriggled through the grooves of my fist
And fell in tendrils down my spine.
I liked its sound--briny and crystaline
Like footsteps on salt panes.
Apr 25, 2012
Apr 25, 2012 at 8:00 PM UTC
(A) rose within a garden of thorns sits still and glowing.
(N)ot to be prickly but to show a beauty that is over flowing.
(D)own the lakeside crystaline water flows.
(R)ising deeply, to a depth that no one knows.
(E)ventful is the sight created by a "Godly" hand.
(A) magnificent view to behold, an endless story written in the sand.
(U)nderneath a clear blue sky a lovely face sits beneath a tree.
(R)eading a penned story by an author, and that is she.
(E)ntwined, the words that cannot be written in rhyme, and only another tale to be made in time.
(T)o write another is to be done in a different tale.
(A)nd to write it freely is to be like ships preparing to sail.
Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 9:01 AM UTC
Crystaline butterfly
Giveth me a ride upon thy opiatic pinion's
For ournselves to be minion's
Of one another's obeisant homage!!!!
As a castleview of god
We shalt swoon in primordial moonlight!!!
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 10:56 AM UTC
I often wonder
if snowflakes feel
themselves falling
or if the world
simply
rises among them.
Mar 1, 2019
Mar 1, 2019 at 1:02 AM UTC
Jewelled with
rainbow translucence roll
rain-bead *****
slowly down outside windows.
Golden-globe
seed pearls, clear watery
glories slide
in uniformed lines, floorward.
Diamonds in
transit they shine and fire
sparkle from
each crystaline orb's inside.
Smallest gems,
if unnoticed, might seem
irrelevant,
joining the fall into sheen.
Caught however
by eyes with keen poetic
insight odes
to rain-drops might follow.
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 7:35 AM UTC