"dappling" poems
*T'was a diamond
amidst stardust
struck of gypsy's
celestial adoration,
crashed and sizzled
'neath earthly intentions,
ultimate shimmers
escalated upon
fiercely impetuous seas,
each dappling
luminescent wave
saturated of
splendiferous galaxies,
bathed in heavens'
stellar effulgence,
mesmerizing wanderlust's
magnificent indulgences*
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC
*stars silently
enveloped
turbulent seas,
gingerly dappling
each current,
whence the tides
were stilled
'til they ebbed
'tween streams
of serene
spring waters,
rushing its
banks in
cascades of
tranquil
awed hushes
overflowing
midst
surrender's
quietude*
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 11:10 AM UTC
The graduation party
with fried aubergine, croutons and rye whisky
has raised the hairs of the alumni.
Kismets afoot about forming a band,
named after actress Alice White,
intuitive bluesy Psychedelicia.
Devonport's dappling on bass
and Schemtar's already on drums.
The devils in the details with the lead singer,
for the want of a lead guitarist
they are gyved.
But if they practice like clockwork
the turnaround will resonant .
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 11:19 AM UTC
qui tollis peccata mundi, dona eis requiem
Bejesus we walked so far!
It was beautiful country, mind,
feet dappling through hedgerows
that led from the city, in silence,
to rest where all flesh shall come.
I remember how it started,
walled in with the others.
Lord you could dance!
How were they to comprehend
that the kink in my arm
and your off-beat jive
could lead us unguided
to narrow pathways forcing single file?
By a river we sat together—
amid long words and fingerprints
your skin bled dark with guilt
and for my part I saw coracles
sprout upon your breath.
We weighed down these little craft
with the chains of our sins
and tied fast the bones of our future
as payment for the ferryman.
One day perhaps, the river will dissolve to ash,
revealing our two disciples
discarded as the chance to heal,
there will be love
like a great and gentle pulse
mingling with cold stones
and memories our
downcast eyes, cheekbones to the fore.
Oct 22, 2011
Oct 22, 2011 at 11:07 AM UTC
Her prayers are
Breathy I love you's,
Warm and pained against your skin.
Your body is her altar,
Her temple,
The cathedral surrounding her
In her heartbroken worship
As she unravels,
Crying,
Shaking,
Clinging to you with
Everything
She
Has
Left.
The shattered pieces
Of her heart are the broken winged swallows,
Flocking in fluttering storms
In your bell tower,
Nesting in your rafters
Alongside the owls you've let be
To this point,
Content to allow them to roost.
Her hands are your bibles,
The creases telling a thousand stories
Of the girl who weathers the fiercest storms,
But falls apart at the seams
For love of you.
Your laughter serves as her hymns,
Ringing through the expanse of you,
Singing in her ears.
Sometimes she tries
Laughing alongside you,
But her voice cracks
Like an untuned piano
Whenever she opens her lips
To add her laughter to
Your songbooks.
You each find a different kind of heaven
In the stained glass windows
Of the other's eyes.
Hers are the ocean,
Deep and stormy,
Only ever calm
Just before lightning shakes her frame,
Rain and froth
Pounding
Against the glass,
Breaking it's way through,
Trying to flood your halls
As the tempest carves new legends
In her outstretched hands;
New biblical stories to lose yourself in.
She finds summer nights in your gaze,
Bonfires dappling damp grass,
And a boy
Laying on the hood of a run down car,
Staring too intently at the stars
To truly register their fragility,
Their mortality,
Even as they plummet from the sky,
Bursts of white light
Reflecting gold through green glass.
The comet-light ripples,
Climbing to the rafters,
Startling the owls from their perches,
And you can feel them thrumming,
Beating their wings against the ceiling of your ribs.
k. f.
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 5:57 PM UTC
Hovering, its gentle, gleam a'glitter,
Sun rays hugging so daintily the plains of grass
That it could have been akin to quiet coveting
Of their transient green so far from its grasp
Then, as if in secret rising from the earth's coat,
From blades made chartreuse with sunset's caress,
There lifts a drunken, blanketed quiet that fill-
In preparation for the night- the land's every crevasse
Upon the branches arching, merging, enweaving,
Where the last few robins had been orchestrating,
The leaves give their tiny bodies up to the fading breeze;
A waltz so natural both need not bother hesitant contemplating
In dappling, splotching, sparks of amber scintillating a hue,
The trees too the sun embraces; the shades of sunlight
Creating a calico on its surface, still dull greens and greys amidst
Its autumn forgery, aureate bleeding bright
Nocturnal symphonies crescendo in harmonic chirps, croaks, and hoots;
As sunlight spools it's last golden threads to defy it's cruel god or master,
Who reigns, an even more kingly victory, wins last of battles, drags the sun down
To horizon's prison- subterranean capture.
Jan 25, 2019
Jan 25, 2019 at 11:52 AM UTC
*You remind me of the earth,
like deep burnt umber woodlands
mid downpours' fresh aroma
& spring's foliage lushly reborn,
twinkling explosive pinpoints
grazing beyond dark ether,
sparkles dappling 'pon depths
of eternal seascapes's nature,
amidst breath of relentless airy winds
gusting above her majesty's hazes
beyond purple mountain's apex
and streams of meadows' wildflowers in
deftly painted horizons after moonbows,
vivid consciousness' uttermost reminisce
of all things recollected in the long ago
essence of your memories' presence*
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 4:49 PM UTC
You glow
Your radiated purple hue
Just touching you multiplies my atoms
Just touching your pedal is cancerous
I grew you in a chemical spill
I watered you every day
With my dappling of sunshine
I hoped to elevate your foliage
You kept reaching out
You reached for more nature
Until your sickly festered roots
Tore you in another direction
You grew towards a reactor
Beyond the need for gardening
You grew towards the processing plant
Beyond the dappling of sunshine
You keep growing and growing
But you won't grow anywhere
But further into your toxic
Pedals never face the sunshine
All you want is clean rain you say
All you want is some sun
All you do is lay there in the waste
All you do is wait for it to be done
All you do is grow mutant fruit
All you do is grow your thorns
I'm trying to live in the sunlight here
While a new gardener collects your scorn
I threw fertilizer over toxic waste
I gave it some fresh new earth
I planted roses in your place
I allowed my garden rebirth
The roses are coming in just fine
I'll expect them still next June
They grow towards sunlight every day
They're my positive giving negative prune
I hope you like to wasteland
I hope you like the sun at your back
I'll keep growing my Fresh Roses
I can't grow your Toxic Lilac
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 2:57 AM UTC
Black, reflecting my negative emotions
And yet, also reflecting soft dappling light -
White light, reflecting my optimism for happiness.
Clicking cameras' clinging onto frozen moments.
Curved lenses
Capturing, condensing,
concentrating, and compacting.
A vaguely comprehensible collection
of inconsequence.
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 12:01 AM UTC
Unabashed In abandon,oblivious to all now,
Each grain of sand pricking me sensuous,
Starry witnesses unheeded, unremembered,
Morning tides tickling our naked feet wet.
Warm sunlight dappling through your hair,
Your nectar on my lips, in eyes waking dreams,
Love drunk am I, Alive, all my deaths forgotten!
Oct 30, 2012
Oct 30, 2012 at 4:30 PM UTC
Thin music played as we danced uneven
circles around tempermental light flickering,
a bonfire built lopsided in the metal bowl--
you handed me a glow-stick then broke yours,
shaking the torn end so the liquid spattered
your hair, head, shoulders, and the grass,
dew-wet around your mud-stained sneakers.
You reflected the constellations overhead--
mirrored as they were in your backyard pond
when we went night-swimming with silver
fish ******* on our toes. We spent the night
discussing first impressions and each other--
you admitted I was your kind of person
even though I thought you were weird,
too short a boy with too high a voice.
I soon learned you were a hurricane tied down,
and you convinced me I had not once been less
than spilled starlight--that’s why my skin
glowed beneath fluorescent lighting, untouched
by the sun’s aggression burning freckles,
cosmic dust dappling my nose and cheeks.
You said: “It’s always been the way of man,
born as living mirrors for nature to see itself.”
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 12:00 AM UTC
I still can't go there.
To that little swatch of grass
bathed in sunlight
without even a dappling of shade
It seems like a green field of memories
with almost no one left to remember
Even the words subscribed on the tiny brass plaques
seem somehow belittling
With them set into the ground
for the convenience of mowers
to pass over
It makes her seem
so inconsequential
that she shouldn't trouble the groundskeeper
with her monument
It makes me think of the mundane consequences of death
that overshadow the greatness of life
Like the simple economics
of maintenance
I can't look at the life of such a beautiful women
summed up in such a small way
it seems so common
so trite
I know that she would have told you
that she was common
but she wasn't
She had a greatness in her soul and being
that transcended the normal
that transcends death
I am overwhelmed by that little plaque
and it's insignificance
Enough to paralyze me from going there
I know that if I see it it will push
the other memories from my mind
and supplant her
She will become a place in a cemetery
with a little map on the grounds keeping shed
gridded and numbered
number 6 in row B
a little part of the order in a small field
and I can't have that
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 9:38 AM UTC
deep in the clean loamy. in the dark froth of top soil and odd moss - deep
in the tendrils of microscopic cosmologies; fecund and rampant with life -
the long reed holding the wind's note in it's throat
in the failing light, beneath the canopies...
you're gasping. you gasp
at the habit of
love's heart
and the little things, teeming
in the underneath.
where gnashing teeth are dead leaves.
and yellow is origami
in the dappling
of the sun.
and the peace.
Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 5:02 AM UTC
Sky I see, in blue, in sky, in white, in cloud
Bits of grey, scattered within, also in there
Scattered thoughts, perhaps soft pattering rain
Sounds unexpected, echo in my ears
Buzzards drift, uplifting, to warm east winds
Dragons as flies, butter as flies too
Peacock in azurite, fanned out to full
Littles aflutter, in all branches near
Winds catch soft breeze, just right, a good cool feel
Deer strolling into verdant far land
Crows with caw of a disturbed picnic lunch
Minnows dappling pond's water, glass clear
This is sacred sight, which when I turn old
All blind, I expect, I will too soon miss
Unable to gaze, upon peace
with my squinting pair, of sky hazed blue eyes
© 2017 Jim Davis
Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 9:12 AM UTC
Alabaster white skin pinkening
Jade eyes moistening as my ministrations continue
Electricity crackling between us
The last two on this earth
Two who are and always will be
One
Ruby red cupid’s bow parts
No sound escapes
Just a breath taken
For we do not need words
We feel We touch We play We tease
Each other
Until the dawn breaks
Sunrise dappling across our bodies
Erotically tattooing us
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 11:22 AM UTC
I have run down
broken stairs,
I have twisted
inside
twisted showers,
bent backwards
on five-fingered clocks,
in the fray
I rumbled
with a spider
of a woman
as she crawled on eight legs
over my sternum
to my lips,
at the top of the bridge of the world,
the world
turned
rightside
up
and the sky
was peopled by
clouds the size
of goldfish,
and the sun
was a dappling bowl
in which people put their
hands
to wash them of pain,
and so the world was all right,
but I couldn't handle
so much happiness,
none of the other
fish
looked like you,
even as I looked up
out of my
apartment
made of jenga blocks,
so I travelled back down
the twisted
showers,
broken
stairs,
and over the underbelly
of the bridge,
until I held you in my arms;
your tiny body
whole to me again,
I could touch the sky
when I touched your body
and told you to call me
whenever you needed me,
but you walked away,
and so I returned
to that hell
of perfection.
I hate living in the sky,
the ocean where the fish
look all the same
and there are no real clouds
to speak of.
I hate taking twisted showers,
and rumbling with spider-women,
I hate bridges that bridge
worlds.
Firstly, I hate love,
Secondly, I hate heartbreak,
Thirdly, I can't live without those two things.
Mar 1, 2012
Mar 1, 2012 at 8:50 AM UTC
Tripping up the stairs,
looking out the window
smelling barley, corn and rye.
Trees make patterns
interchanging with birds in the sky.
Sun beats down upon your head
sit, counting ants,
with a stick, poke and ****
throw rocks in the pool.
Boulders scream to be jumped off of
into water of shiny cyan blue.
The smell of summer in the air,
Trapped ***** caught fish
All is still and calm.
It's these simple thing
that keep us apart
my trust in you
guides me through the dark
When I look ahead,
all I see is reflection.
Walls of mirrors
infinite to perfection
It's out of reach,
this dream of mine
over the edge of
i
n
s
a
n
i
t
y
Trees make patterns
against the backdrop of the sky.
Throwing shadows,
casting hiding spots
for those who wish not be seen.
Turning invisible any
seeking shelter.
Screening out sunrays,
dappling lukewarm oases
over woodchips and detritus
like pancake syrup.
Let’s play camouflage in the forest.
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 12:59 AM UTC
Sometimes I think of long lace hemlines, following a trail of white petals
and tree branches arching to form a dome,
sunlight dappling the green leaves like stained glass in a cathedral
But that’s not what I dream of.
Instead, I dream of black nights that turn into dim mornings
where we crowd the couch
And you play your guitar while we sing, voices cracking
and when we look at each other with blood-shot eyes,
we can’t help but laugh.
I dream of rain slapping our skin when we run, arm in arm, for cover,
my jeans are soaked, I shake from the cold, but your hands are warm
I dream of alarms ringing in the apartment, smoke billowing from the pan,
Because I burned the eggs again, the steam and smell of soap and grease
when I scrub the pan and make toast instead–
and you insist you don’t care—
but I make up for it with coffee later.
I dream of long trips, arms out the window and arguing over who’s going to drive
or who gets the radio station this time
because I’m tired of your folksy rock and you really,
really don’t want to listen to Beyonce
but we both do it anyway.
If I dream of a white dress, it has stains from the coffee we shared.
If I dream of petals, they’ve been drenched by rain and torn and trampled by our dancing.
Don’t tell me what I dream of isn’t beautiful because it’s messy and flawed.
For a thing of joy is a thing of beauty forever.
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 3:35 PM UTC
There are things I need to tell you,
Like how the moon orbits just for you.
Or why weeds grow between flagstones.
But all I can say is nothing at all.
There are sounds I need you to hear,
Like the crashing of the waves on New Jesery shore.
Or a nightingales song breaking the sound of silence.
But I know you wont hear them
There are beautiful pictures I need to show
Like the breaking dawn across an island bay.
Or the spring sun, dappling a forest floor.
But I know you wont look in the places I do.
When you asked why I wanted you too?
All I could say was, tis how I see the world.
© Nick Strong 2014
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 4:14 PM UTC
A frozen house stilled mid life,
while the lives within shed
blood from a tear mid stride.
hearts stopped beating,
loving strokes suspended mid brush,
her dappling with the voice of another
pulled her love into adultery's pouch.
his seduction cloaked in friendship,
his lie of never leaving,
his deception of his true nature,
he could have known he would never love her.
her home barren of noise of family,
empty, gutted, a winter's frozen shell,
she will lie now in the out lands upon the ground,
freezing alone, unforgivable, a harlot, wishing, hoping for death.
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 11:27 PM UTC
Mellifluous,
as their body melts over yours,
and yours glistens in the dappling moonlight,
the warmth of the sheets
encompassing your fleshes.
The sweetness of 1,000 plums,
Permeate your mind
on the tip of your tongue.
The shiver of the coldest wind,
Glides across your spine
as their touch meets,
you hush.
Hoping that your reaction --
Won't be too much,
But just enough
Just enough to express,
the thoughts in your grey chasm
through the touch
of the pink abyss.
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 2:40 PM UTC
So closely, too long have I walked with Death,
Nothing shall ever look the same again;
Flaunting in face his tainted, foul breath,
Stabbing me anew with tears of sharp pain.
How many years ago it seems to be!
When I mused beneath noontime's honeyed rays
Dappling ev'ry lichened woodland tree,
Whilst mocking and beckoning brighter days.
May's gentle, sweet breath of pine-scented night
Redolent with newly mown meadow hay
Stifles song and dulls each thrill of delight,
Reminding sweeter yet shall pass away.
So closely, too long have I walked in dread,
Crippled by pain within agonized breast;
Too long lingered in the land of the dead
Whilst only parting shall mock my request.
The scythe of the grim reaper draws e'er near,
Terrorizing each sleepless night and day,
Making game of wildest nightmare and fear
As a gleeful child delights at his play.
~Hilda~
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 6:26 PM UTC
Sitting under a willow tree by a river,
the shadows of the leaves cast by the midday sun
dappling against my skin,
tracing the patterns with my finger
The serene quiet,
pleasantly tainted
only by the water trickling down
and birds singing their sweet tales
My racing mind
slowing to a gentle meander,
my worries fly away with the sparrows
and my sadness flows gently down the stream
Curling my toes in the warm grass,
sketch pad resting in my hand
the crisp white sheets beckon me closer,
I smile then answer them
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 5:10 PM UTC
I want to walk through the trees with you
Sun dappling our clasped hands
Our fears falling away behind us
Like leaves
Fall into a pile of leaves with me
Fall into love with me
Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 6:10 PM UTC