"desolates" poems
Hand shaky, balancing the easel
Paint brush tight within grip
I've never seen a rainbow
Come and go so quick
It seems as if the rain clouds
Parted only for a moment today
Grey desolates,
but fear not, the colours will make their way
Shoes paint the streets with difference
Among all crowds, the brush flicks
But drop your tools & raise your arms to the sky
For you must paint the wind with your fingertips.
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 4:29 PM UTC
Faith is a funny tale,
Banging!, on no ones thought of what door,
Humming and cooing and my window jail,
and trudging at my pondering floor
To quicksand it desolates -suddenly-
from titular crown of metals to pallid birch,
All cones of mono roll down on a trolley
with the tetra floss that burns the torch,
Fate is a formidable foe,
Descend itself to morrows fort,
discriminating as it comes and goes
to what it justifies at court,
Stepping to festive cascades,
lying faintly on the tomb of beds
Where the harbinger harvest withering fades,
there it cuts the echoing threads
So we alone stroll at chrono's fraud,
Brooming dust into makers state,
Sack of pennies nods; smirks at prudent gestures sad,
That is when and then we go back to old date
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 5:23 AM UTC
I say the heart of the city lives,
In her I will never die,
The dream of a carpenter builds
Merging with hopes
That I have for her:
Free I write my poetical
Amongst the flowers and demons,
The nonturnes of my heart
And the dawn of my fires,
Tell me the Alamo will be remembered,
Her beauty like a sword
Making my words bleed,
I am my city.
Dream of the desolates
From my cursed youth and poor
Words, the poet in my rich in life
My city is me.
The prostituted poor like an addict
Blowing a flute,
A cold stare, no food, no remorse,
The floor of anguish, a passionate girl.
We are one.
I am the streets,
Among the thieves and thugs
Who like you have dreams,
Among the rust and damp wooded
Homes, into the parks of my city,
Where Spanish missions still
Pray over the people,
My church,
My heart,
My city full of dreamers.
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 3:58 PM UTC
Hope alleviates;
Expectation desolates;
Choose wisely, my friend.
Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 6:27 AM UTC
I never felt such Hunger
As when I looked at you Tonight
Your eyes burnt Bright
Two shining beacons promising me the Delights
Of a Lifetime with You
But in this one Instant
Instantaneous Fleeting Gratification
Of pleasure-pumping Limbs
I will memorise Each Scar
Each Blemish
Each Story
That is told in the rhythmical Waves of your Love
Rolling over me, Under me
Like a piece of Glass smoothed and Rounded by You
Your touch Consoles and Desolates
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 5:27 PM UTC
Folder: Soul mates
I feel the fire in your hands
Burn before you even touch me
I feel the depth of your unspoken words
Before they hit me and pull another's love aside
I burn for you,
a blue flame of discontentedness
I melt with you
Into oily silky velvety fuild
It seeps in through my heart
And stains my soul vibrant colours then black.
You are a vampire of Passion
And I a victim of lust
Lost to the hypnotic call of an ancient
Vow which desolates for all ages to come,
my eternal now.
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 1:32 AM UTC
ALVARADO
Well, now we’ve a translator, we can hear
How much the Mayas hate us.
SANDOVAL We should leave.
As yet, we merely beg to buy their corn,
But fears impel them to combat with us.
We’ve sixty wounded, heat stroke swoons the horse,
And not a flake of gold for all these streams.
Their ruins lurk like wrecks dredged from a swamp.
ALVARADO
A stark reminder for aspiring minds
That cultures often fall as well as rise.
Here comes the father, with our medicine man.
Enter AGUILAR and OLMEDO.
AGUILAR
And so back home the Inquisition, brother,
Still rules the roost?
OLMEDO It does so.
AGUILAR Grim regime!
It clouds the air upon a thousand wings,
Whose shadows spread to pall the gloomy sun.
The cool, luxuriant trees on which it lights,
It dries. How it decays! It browns green grass,
And desolates the leafy countrysides
Until they wither as the Syrian wastes.
OLMEDO So it does.
SANDOVAL [aside] Hark! The moral landslide rumbles.
OLMEDO
Those fires of the Inquisition, lighted
Exclusively to doom the Jews, one day
Are destined to consume their smug oppressors.
SANDOVAL [aside to Alvarado]
He strains a bit to shield the circumcised.
Though I’ve a ***** mouth, my blood is pure.
ALVARADO [aside to Sandoval]
Hush, Sandoval. You go too far.
OLMEDO And you?
Know, Alvarado, there are many men
Who, through misguided zeal- yes, Sandoval-
Convince themselves that they commit no sin
So long as those they **** and violate
Are of a different faith.
ALVARADO It’s not our fault.
I hate the Grand Inquisitor myself.
SANDOVAL
Like any little-loved policing force,
However, it preserves our way of life.
OLMEDO
For its unwanted eye that never slumbers,
Its arm, unseen and ever raised to strike,
Does not o’ercast its gloom on you, but rather
On deviants, foreigners, and heretics.
AGUILAR
It bars all doors of human entry to them-
Marginalized, shorn lambs it ferrets out,
And scapegoats as the enemies of Rome.
Thus, it condemns not only deeds, but thoughts.
Dec 3, 2016
Dec 3, 2016 at 1:30 PM UTC
Oh you the daughter of eve,
Sister of mine, let's not discuss
about pain tonight. Eminence of
you can't be undermined. You, the
centre of existence. Masked by
indifference, an epitome of love
hidden behind. Your skin's golden
hues, sun can't hold a candle to.
Beguiling is your pensive face.
Your serenity envied by the doves.
Supplications - your words,
reverbrating the court above.
With a lioness gait, you crush
that dismay. Wear valor as
your cacoon. Your mesmerizing
aura, like a magical spell.
Your trust, a life to barren dreams.
You, a panacea to everything.
Your gentleness belying your
strength. Farther are the fears,
trembling with awe. Untethered by
critique, are your abilities. You,
a versatile being. Who wrangles
with you, is perplexed by his inner
disputes. Who abondons you, destiny
desolates him too. Worries that
occupied, were they worthwhile?
You as delicate as beetle's wing
Stooping with burden? That's not
your thing. Never accede to that
degrades your esteem, for you are
a fairy of dreams. You, the crown
of a king. You, a goddess of life,
this world but a slave of thine.
Mark my words. Even if I depart.
I believe you are mashal to
your darkest path.
Apr 23, 2020
Apr 23, 2020 at 5:52 AM UTC