"damselfly" poems
Flora and Fauna, the sisters of Season
Of Spring and of Summer
Allow now our drummer
To drum out the beat
For the feet of the sisters
To glide and to creep
Like the encroaching sleep
Which may perch on your shoulder if we cannot keep you awake
And on the edge of your seat, sir.
Now the former, sweet Flora, will finger the flute
While the other continues to glide and to slide
Like a sequined Venetian harlequin bride;
And now Fauna will mimic the movements of bird and of beast
As she graces the work of our landscape artiste
And all is completely unfeasible
Completely lacks reason
We guarantee.
Presently
In the eye of the beholder
Sweet Flora seemingly draws from the aether a lyre
And with flourishing fingers she plucks from the heavens
A song of the seasons, a pagan ode to Pan!
Behold! No aid of hoops, no strings
The vestal-virgin-harlot sisters sing
Of beautiful Persephone
And with unseen damselfly wings
Ascend from mediocrity
All melody forgotten
All the drums create cacophony
And you will find serenity in chaotic monotony
Now let this climaxing crescendo banish all your sorrowing!
No more that light; no more that sacred realm
Life’s door was dappled gloam; now all is black.
A man of wax with saintly, hollow eyes
Devoid of sin, devoid of love and light
That golden room is lost – you can’t turn back.
Now love has lost its lustre - lust lost joy
And coy eyes turn to watch the empty man
Struck by eternal beauty, and condemned
To haunt the broken world of mortal men;
And shrilling wind caresses empty hand.
Jul 2, 2012
Jul 2, 2012 at 12:01 PM UTC
In the divet between mountains
Resides a wooden cabin – ostensibly an amalgamation of the scape
Adroitly - I - quondam female warrior flit
Down massive (ancient) hand-laid, hand-cut carved stone steps
Bounding from contingent step onto the dense pad of turned soil
Tacit compliance between gravity and soil holds footprints bound
A compressed deflating crescendo as pace ignites with bounds
Cadences of protuberant wildflowers and grasses erupt from swollen terra
A winsome chromatic menagerie, dispersed in ecstatic fistfuls
A venerably ancient ritual
My nascent clandestine vocation
Personally meted out - a beatification for my provisional sanctuary
Along glacier-fed stream
Lissome fingers shadow inert stalks –plucking dormant beginnings from their desiccated ligaments
I am austere and unadorned save for a festoon of pyrite flecks trailing my semblance
Residual gilding from my ante-meridian swim taken after requisite gathering of wild blackberries, goose berries, and rhubarb along oft-tamped path
The sun, nestling into its requisite apex endorsed my completion
I reclined into the hassock of soil, feeling the elements settle about with an embossment of my form
Imposing verdure arched subtly as compressed soil beckoned hyperbolic flux
As I lay within the basilica of opulent living columns replete with comestible bounty
Lingering dew honed inflections of sacrosanct petrichor in unison with piquant clover
Wild purple clover buds saccharinely tinted and inundated nestled nerves in mine cribriform plate
Birds pitched and galloped through the frond tips and beyond in the lapis expanse
Frequently snatching damselfly’s and assemblages of midges from their ephemeral drift
Auspicious rays transcended stippled diaphanous gravid clouds
Light inundated ether entered humbly into the cathedral oculus
Pyrite speckled terrain beneath, and my bare gilded form above
Cast a refracted aura about my sanctuary
Precipitously the elusive vaporous embankment distended further
Ashen atmospheric correspondence inaugurated liquescent sustenance to my mountain abode
And I -
Lingered beneath the descending gobbets, curls furled in a puddle
Fresh topsoil cupping my corporal topographic contours
Pressing blackberries into my mouth between smiles
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
Today I have followed the strange Damselfly,
Down to all ponds on my father’s marshland,
Not to live the blissful Waldensianism like Thoreau,
But to come down unto discovery of wonders
Readily displayed in the ****** manners of the damselfly
Sub-dragonfly that was conveniently called damselfly,
It is dark and white in pearly texture,
Like the Palmyrene Queen dear Zenobia,
Damselfly move as a pair on every time
A female and a male like a musical duet,
The Female has a lock on the ******
As the males does; tight lock on the sheath,
Keeping safe its ***** away from robbers,
The female damselfly has key to unlock
The cryptic lock system on the ***** sheath
Of the garlanded male damsel fly,
The male damselfly too has the key
That can only unlock the cryptic lock system,
On the ****** of the female damselfly,
Their lock and key functions within,
The specific species of the damselflies,
All this evolved to block out the thieves
The predating dragonflies of other species,
Intending to steal *** with the damselfly
With no other reason but to darwinize the damselfly,
Willie Topaz Mcgonall is the damselfly with Male lock
Billie Burroughs ghost is a dragonfly minus any key
African poetry is the damselflies with female poetic lock
Both have keys on each other’s custody of culture.
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 5:33 AM UTC
My precious sweet potato pie, my darling little damselfly,
your life is still a lullaby, and I love you more than life so I
kiss chubby fingers pinched in play, make root beer floats,
chase bees away, but even I might break your heart someday.
Jan 21, 2012
Jan 21, 2012 at 2:20 PM UTC
you’ve swept me away
in your rivers,
completely.
do you know you steal my breath?
I can’t help it, I surrender
to you, so
surround me, encompass me,
cover me with your skin,
your flesh and kisses;
love me, I know you can.
love me,
for just a while, and
I’ll lead you,
follow you,
until you find
what you are looking for.
I am yours to break.
and if you ever want
to forget me for a while,
to love me no longer -
that is okay,
for you've loved me once,
and that is enough.
May 10, 2010
May 10, 2010 at 5:43 PM UTC
I leave the warmth of the feast
Out into the pleasant night air
A cat walks in the garden
Quietly atop a stone wall
It's eyes reflect in torchlight
Like two carved emeralds
I watch from the stone bench
As he snags a damselfly from the air
Pinning it to the mossy stone
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 2:01 AM UTC
5
breaks away from it family
to inspect my wet leg
teasing a shiny blonde hair
lit by an evening Baltic sun,
its wings said to vibrate at 2,000
times per second, if
I reach to touch this
momentarily curious creature
it vaults toward the back lit
protective river reed sweet grass
or water lilies at 100 times the speed of one
length of its jeweled body,
Two species in short vernal contact
and how to compare us:
Zygoptera have lived 250 years,
possess keen 360 degree vision
eat mosquitos, never had a thought, yet
who is to say my kind are better
in the scheme of things?
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 2:47 AM UTC
-1-
Consider the Paradoxical Frog,
so named because it is several times smaller
than its p h e n o m e n a l l y huge tadpole.
(But then, look at people,
whose achievements often fail to match
the promise they once showed.)
-2-
The Second law of Thermodynamics
Out of winter, spring,
out of spring, summer,
then autumn, winter,
and out of winter, spring,
always the same.
Out of the bud, growth,
out of the flower, seed,
out of death, life.
Entropy always increases.
-3-
Once you were within my reach.
Suddenly you became a
*g l i t
t e r
i n g*
damselfly.
Just wait, I thought, I can change too.
Why did I have to turn into a frog?
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 10:12 AM UTC
Move about with bended knees
Eight eyes, but can you see?
Casting line and tying knots
For lunch a meager flea
Daybreak bears your sovereign knack
Of pinning in a row
Dangling tiny diamonds
To adorn your bungalow
You ponder many buzzing bugs
Of iridescent jade
And wrapping them in blankets
Made of milkweed pod brocade
Sedated little damselfly
No, never getting loose
You're served this evening as first course
A succulent chartreuse
Mar 16, 2012
Mar 16, 2012 at 2:56 AM UTC
Cascading , omnipotent life water of Cherokee and Creek ,forged in granite , red clay, confident tributary and commensal partner of damselfly , alligator turtle and heron ..
Mature , altruistic bounty brought unto industrious native people , turbulent tributary of the Piedmont .. Mother of the fertile southern crescent !.......
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 1:21 PM UTC
breaks away from it family
to inspect my wet leg
teasing a shiny blonde hair
lit by an evening Baltic sun,
its wings said to vibrate at 2,000
times per second, if
I reach to touch this
momentarily curious creature
it vaults toward the back lit
protective river reed sweet grass
or water lilies at 100 times the speed of one
length of its jeweled body,
Two species in short vernal contact
and how to compare us:
Zygoptera have lived 250 years,
possess keen 360 degree vision
eat mosquitos, never had a thought, yet
who is to say my kind are better
in the scheme of things?
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 3:25 AM UTC
Pink hyacinth blooms,
atop floating green leaves,
the dark green bullfrog sits idly,
occasionally announcing his presence.
Fullmoon light illuminates,
the blue water pond imitates
a giant silver mirror,
reflecting the sky.
A single disturbance,
created by a drinking damselfly,
ripples the night's reflection,
like paradoxes through time.
I sit and watch being still,
until the hum approaches,
I have been found by the mosquitos,
time to retreat.
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 10:13 AM UTC
*A dragonfly's love—
Ill-fated, unrequited—
Damselfly leaving.*
© 2015 J.S.P.
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 9:47 PM UTC
You've got snakesnakesnakeskins
dripping from your sickeyessickeyes, guy,
and you've got blackblackblacktar ******
caked on your chuckle chuckle grinnygrin.
Your words are a dragon I can chase over foil
for fickle sizzle pop forever.
It's a rusty hammer death sickle
sweet smoke smile shiver and
I'm nodding out to your sentences.
Sicklesaysigh
I'm sentenced to silenceness and
you're a scalped and skinned pegasus.
You've ripped out your own spine and
your promises are gold dust greenbacks
flowing through my fingertips and
melting into **** that useless ****
I'm a damselfly ready to cry.
Please, please just roll those dreaded die
See me sigh down down coo cooo lullaby.
Fly, fly my up up me up up and
I'm gonna transcend this mess.
I'm gonna transcend this madness.
Think nine moves ahead
this is chess and you're
a linguistic hurricane.
You're a tornado of
uncontrolled desire.
You walk through walls of fire now.
You let your actions burn you
like you did your bridges.
Hell is here on earth,
but don't let it get to you.
Be of water and spirit and
let it flow through you.
From the ashes there is life,
you know you're carbon based.
Fuckin' coal trolls.
Be a bridge,
quit hiding.
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 12:28 PM UTC
blue-tailed damselfly
moves back and forth in the air -
sultry afternoon.
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 11:21 AM UTC
I
Once you were within my reach.
Suddenly
you became a
g l i t
t e r
i n g
damselfly
Just wait, I thought,
I can change too.
Why did I have to turn into a frog?
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
II
Consider the Paradoxical Frog,
so named because it is several times smaller
than its p h e n o m e n a l l y huge tadpole.
(But then, look at people,
whose achievements often fail to match
the promise they once showed.)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
III
The Second Law of Thermodynamics
Out of winter, spring,
out of spring, summer,
then autumn, winter,
and out of winter, spring,
always the same.
Out of the bud, growth,
out of the flower, seed,
out of death, life.
Entropy always increases.
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 12:03 PM UTC
Lung tree
Drink me
Take in that consequential
Energy
And please
Touch the sun with buds and dance
Perpetually
Until the day is said and done
Concrete
Upon what day will you melt to butter?
In what age will you split
Asunder
And our squishy nubs will touch
The naked land
Of younger
To caress trampled memory
Great comet
Of the heated sky
Roll chariots to the marble
Castle far by
Draw the ceiling and cast alight
The endless view of the constant night
Great God of mine.
In the photobooth
We do a silly face
Clicking the parsecs back into focal
View
And drawing upon that inflationary
Balloon
To which we ride
A darling damselfly
Old and full of chitionous youth
Old dirt
Move softly your mother
And place her dead things upon the nether
To compress into flaking chert
And ****** from the depths
An exhibit of great feature
The future of us
Lost within
The earth
Great road
I see not where your terminus goes
I know not from what strange township
You built the mountains and tumbled abyss
But when we shall be missed
And the world will roll on with constant bliss
Forgetful of the citation of our greatest works
And the obliteration of everything
Timeless.
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 3:35 PM UTC
All hail the dragonfly, master of the sky.
Master of the swamp.
Master of it's prey, be it orange, white or grey.
Perhaps the common whitetail, zooming all about,would choose to dress in the blues and hues of the dasher and wallow in the clout.
Don't mistake him for the damselfly, he'd rather die, he wouldn't be seen like that.
Even through the magnificence of his multifaceted eye.
All that structural coloration makes him look like a Christmas decoration.
All hail the dragonfly, master of the sky.
Master of the swamp.
Master of it's prey, I'll hail it each and every day.
Dec 23, 2020
Dec 23, 2020 at 12:45 PM UTC
Sun light at my balcony
listing symphony
wave hand in air
with damselfly
take a sip of tea
and still thinking
about dreaming
what happen
is it love
and she passed by...
Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 4:47 AM UTC