"diadems" poems
299
Your Riches—taught me—Poverty.
Myself—a Millionaire
In little Wealths, as Girls could boast
Till broad as Buenos Ayre—
You drifted your Dominions—
A Different Peru—
And I esteemed All Poverty
For Life’s Estate with you—
Of Mines, I little know—myself—
But just the names, of Gems—
The Colors of the Commonest—
And scarce of Diadems—
So much, that did I meet the Queen—
Her Glory I should know—
But this, must be a different Wealth—
To miss it—beggars so—
I’m sure ’tis India—all Day—
To those who look on You—
Without a stint—without a blame,
Might I—but be the Jew—
I’m sure it is Golconda—
Beyond my power to deem—
To have a smile for Mine—each Day,
How better, than a Gem!
At least, it solaces to know
That there exists—a Gold—
Altho’ I prove it, just in time
Its distance—to behold—
Its far—far Treasure to surmise—
And estimate the Pearl—
That slipped my simple fingers through—
While just a Girl at School.
5.2k
I ENVY the seas of Neptune that he rides,
I envy the thrills,
Of his royal chariot of May;
Gracing these glistening hills.
Gaze upon our journey, Love!
Where the stars may gleam
On our forbidden melody,
Bless this love, unto me!
I envy lakes of Swans,
That flutter on August Eves,
That bless a forbidden Love,
With newfound Autumn Leaves.
Opened is the portal,
On this summer's Eve for me,
That jewels and diadems of Wealth,
Shall never; could never be.
I envy our everlasting light,
And bells that gently ring
Over that fateful evening,
That - envy shall bring.
Yet interrupt Spring's blossom,
Even when our hearts may bleed,
Run into this everlasting night,
Under the stars with me.
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 7:07 PM UTC
high over clear-washed stone, faint whispering,
the moon-bright tide cascades, the wild sea rose
has blossomed, nodding where the salt wave flows,
the wide unconquered brines great murmuring.
storm rock, night air, the white foam glistening
on wandering sand, the night's rich harvest grows
as passive as a flower, the sea-breeze blows
above the glassy ocean's thundering.
our love as free as this the windswept wave,
its rhythmic sigh, here in your arms i seek
a treasury of love, exotic gems,
before the folding tide, the current's slave.
the stronghold falls, the sleeping waters speak
of soft goodbyes and watery diadems.
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 2:17 PM UTC
232
The Sun—just touched the Morning—
The Morning—Happy thing—
Supposed that He had come to dwell—
And Life would all be Spring!
She felt herself supremer—
A Raised—Ethereal Thing!
Henceforth—for Her—What Holiday!
Meanwhile—Her wheeling King—
Trailed—slow—along the Orchards—
His haughty—spangled Hems—
Leaving a new necessity!
The want of Diadems!
The Morning—fluttered—staggered—
Felt feebly—for Her Crown—
Her unanointed forehead—
Henceforth—Her only One!
2.8k
216
Safe in their Alabaster Chambers—
Untouched my Morning
And untouched by Noon—
Sleep the meek members of the Resurrection—
Rafter of satin,
And Roof of stone.
Light laughs the breeze
In her Castle above them—
Babbles the Bee in a stolid Ear,
Pipe the Sweet Birds in ignorant cadence—
Ah, what sagacity perished here!
version of 1859
Safe in their Alabaster Chambers—
Untouched by Morning—
And untouched by Noon—
Lie the meek members of the Resurrection—
Rafter of Satin—and Roof of Stone!
Grand go the Years—in the Crescent—above them—
Worlds scoop their Arcs—
And Firmaments—row—
Diadems—drop—and Doges—surrender—
Soundless as dots—on a Disc of Snow—
version of 1861
2.5k
The yellowed dome cracks upon the surface
Of the moistened soil that stretches to make
Their way, emphatically filling most base
Space between dried stubs of flesh - never fake
Fruitless fingers - cracking, brushing, but now
Healing by comforting the path I pursue
With the wake of the rooster.
Home left warming behind, I gallantly
Saunter toward more humid, fume-fed airs
While leaving the thoughts that so quaintly
Filled my head, forgot to ingrain, and failed,
Allowing growth to myself.
Sun hung, high-noon, the dew fades all too soon
Creating a creaky concoction kept
Together (of sounds) by bare breaking-bones
Feet against gravel, dusty, rocky steps.
Sky set so wearisome and pink, I fall
To my knees in the midst of high terrain
Marked by thin grasses and rolling hill plains;
As I beg for mercy, not from this all-
Endowed sight, but from God(s) who seem only
To make this life right - I'll collapse further,
My hands move mountainous dirt and holy
Diadems of twig, while I decide - worth
When shall I dig?
Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 10:09 AM UTC
Daughters of Time, the hypocritic Days,
Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes,
And marching single in an endless file,
Bring diadems and ****** in their hands.
To each they offer gifts after his will,
Bread, kingdoms, stars, and sky that holds them all.
I, in my pleached garden, watched the pomp,
Forgot my morning wishes, hastily
Took a few herbs and apples, and the Day
Turned and departed silent. I, too late,
Under her solemn fillet saw the scorn.
2.1k
^
< ☆ >
\/
the
dust
of
creation
breathes
deeply
of
the
nebulae
and
has
dreamed
dreams
of
diadems
in
the
belts
of
great
hunters
then
has
Orion
stroked
the
galaxy
as
we
have
gazed
then
get
used
to
weightless
heaven's
harbor
for
it
is
there
that
we
will
be
back
HOME
^
< ☆ >
\/
SoulSurvivor
Write of Passage
Invisible ink
(C) 2/17/2016
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 2:43 AM UTC
397
When Diamonds are a Legend,
And Diadems—a Tale—
I Brooch and Earrings for Myself,
Do sow, and Raise for sale—
And tho’ I’m scarce accounted,
My Art, a Summer Day—had Patrons—
Once—it was a Queen—
And once—a Butterfly—
1.7k
i am going
into the limp dark
where silence recites
a brief candleflame
it is as if these cavernous impulses
rush back like children
whose heads are diadems
and you, their mother of spring’s masterful
hands neither went
nor came
to a dream
of
roses which
trudging kisses smite the loam,
giving them reckless meanings
yet all the same
in death
and in beginning, in these large minutes
your eyes contain
such light which all things darkled
are born anew
with timid
names
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 8:47 AM UTC
Your WEALTH burdens me poor,
Prithee me rich,
To sleep on thy satin decor -
Broken is my switch.
You sang your praises,
A different World -
With Wealth's crazes,
Under your wing I curled.
I know not of names,
To any of thy gems -
Colors of stricken dames,
Scarce of diadems.
May I meet the queen?
Her glory I must know;
She remains to be seen -
Under Wealth's woe.
Thy ring is on my hand -
And fear sits on my brow,
During the Wedding grand,
And who is happy now?
There are solaces to know,
When all that glitters is gold -
Along death's row,
O! - A marriage to behold!
Thy far treasure shall suffice,
With Wealth's spool -
Struck on a lady's vice,
While just a girl in school!
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 8:45 PM UTC
I ENVY the seas that he rides,
I envy the thrills,
Of his royal chariot of May;
Gracing these glistening hills.
Gaze upon our journey, Love!
Where the stars may gleam
On our forbidden melody,
Bless this Love, unto me!
I envy nests of Doves,
That flutter on August Eves,
That bless forbidden Love,
With newfound Autumn Leaves.
Ajar is the window,
On the summer’s Eve for me,
The jewels and diadems of Wealth,
Could never be.
I envy our everlasting light,
And bells that gently ring
Over that fateful evening,
That - envy shall bring.
Yet interrupt Spring’s blossom,
Even when our hearts may bleed;
Run into this everlasting night,
Under the stars with me.
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 9:18 AM UTC
Triangle is a straight line
Wielded together over
The phantasmic ecstasy of
Illusions
The dusk comes
While dawn is still
Snoring
But, we never hear
The incoming calls of
Dangers lurking ahead
Well, do we ever care?
we walk on a bended path
Our roads are cracked and
Shaped with sledgehammer
We made 180• with curves
Time is never ours
Well, do we ever care?
at dusk, the sun leaves
pomades on our faces
Yet, we sleep unwashed
Hoping for the dew of a
New dawn to cleanse us
We own the key to great
Ancient path to tropical diadems
But, we are stuck in this
Triangular path of our
Creation
We are clouded with illusions
We choose our beliefs
We always do
Yet, we never choose
To break the loop
Triangle is
a three -sided straight line
We love 180
so, we are afraid of breaking
Out of this triangular loop
For the fear of losing our 180•
Maybe one day
Someday
When the dawn awakes
Forcing the understanding
of the golden principle of
Relativism
We may break the loop
And walk 180 down into
The Labyrinth that awaits us.
"We are captives
of our own identity,
leaving in the prison
of our own creation."
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 6:21 AM UTC
Your love is sweeter.
It falls as dew drops
Blanketing the earth,
Covered with jewels
Glimmering in the sun,
Crowned by your diadems,
Made greater by your love,
We lay in this sun-splashed meadow as one.
The wind kisses my face,
Caresses my skin.
You meet my gaze and
I look into the sea-green depths,
Holding mysteries contained and unrevealed.
Hesitant, you reach out to me,
Breaching the distance
Your hand rests on my cheek.
By one touch, these seas spill forth in unrelenting passion,
Blissfully lost to you I am.
Your every movement selfless, beautiful.
The sun, eclipsed by your presence, shines no more
Giving way to the night.
The stars awake and I look to the once blue sky,
Still cloudless, these stars shine bright.
Here alone with you, your love consumes me.
I am lost in you, to you, inescapably.
Anything, everything outside of you dissipates, evaporates.
In this meadow our hands entwined, unbreakable
This union sacred, divine, irreplaceable.
Nights, days, weeks, months, years, I pass with you;
Never was there a love more true.
Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 6:40 PM UTC
Yellow haired children play with summer day wishes
Residual beings in a reversal of their own dreams
Would that the diadems would majestically fall
Into the whirlwind of their fragmented journey
Frangibility abounds in these outstretched hands
Faces of a road-map somewhere back in time
No one to wrap them against the bitterness
Of what will befall them when the sun arises
Weary into the Grey night, they reflect alone
Homeless, mindless, soulless in body
Heads turn away from the orphans
Of yet another tralatitious circumstance
Jan 5, 2011
Jan 5, 2011 at 10:18 AM UTC
Forward you, to me Temptress
your wind-borne linen brushes lightly,
A million diamonds shroud me,
As you blow me your kisses.
Solitude accentuated by your presence,
Bathed in whirlpools and garbed with diadems,
Spine arching melodic whispers,
Basked in perfume of the ladies of the night,
Oh Temptress, mirrored in your eyes, my spurned love;
and the emptiness, that I am in,
In the brazen arms of another’s, she danced to your nocturne,
While I cry out in despair
Temptress, are you unlike those voluptuous shrews?
fickle minded and conceited?
Whose daydreams contain those cowardly Adonis;
Who knows nothing more but to mock a simple fool, that I am.
Forward you to me, Temptress,
I turned to detest you, but closer still, you came;
your cold embraces warm my freezing heart,
And eases me out from my saddest plight.
Oh Temptress, you are to me, my best friend;
my pain you’ve shared, with your gleaming sword,
my grief, with your wailing,
and my tears,
yet unlike them, yours bring hope to a new aurora,
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 3:18 PM UTC
I struggle to remain indefatigable,
I ravage my mind my for hours on end,
My yearning is insatiable,
Flexuous with the concepts to send.
Laboriously sewn, tentatively spoken,
Nonchalantly cast off devastation because it’s broken.
I will never seek acceptance again,
Emancipated from the shackles of denial,
As long as I live I will regain,
And refrain from a judgemental trial.
Perspicaciously drawn, ultimately deduced,
To the gallows with all of my sins, tightly noosed.
They want blood and pain and agony,
All of which I have to give,
I’d rather than expressions of tragedy,
Show what it means to live.
And ponder the spiritual diadems,
Glistening, repetitive, fractals and gems.
My supplications ever so earnest,
Are outweighed by my insubordination.
It’s myself, my own intentions I must harness,
And live beyond my failings and degradation.
Ecstasy is my fruitful, forgiving friend,
Fear my enemy, unrelenting to the end.
Erumpent rampant vociferation,
Endeavouring to end all thoughts iniquitous,
And reclaim my rumination,
Dare I say nefarious?
Well if it is so, than I shall make it not be,
For I have lost all and now I must live for me.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 1:35 PM UTC
Take a kiss upon thy brow!
In parting, I shall bow,
On this royal wedding vow -
I am not wrong, to deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet my spirits writhe to play,
Within the night, upon a fateful day,
Within a void, in Eternity sewn,
Is it; henceforth, less alone?
All I may see or seem,
Is only a melancholy of a Maiden's dream.
I stand behind a crystal door,
Of a crimson-coated shore,
With a ring upon my hand
With diadems at my command -
Faith in the river’s creek,
Drives the maiden to Sleep,
While she may weep - While she may Weep!
Alas! May I ever grasp
The kingdom’s only clasp?
Alas! May I ever crave
Another sagacious wave?
Is all that I may see or seem,
But a melancholy of a Maiden's dream?
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 4:32 PM UTC
as if anything could ring true to a fanciful melody
with chain-mail and crockery,
but not in the symphony of snoring harps
and whistling trombones as much as:
falling asleep as quickly as the tailing off of the song
looking through a woman (christopher young,
hellraiser ii, hellbound soundtrack)
and entering the realm of dream with something to think about...
and in dream, to stand outside one’s own body,
and peering through the window
to see a lightning bolt strike the ground... and instead
of disappearing due to crap wi-fi
begin to dance... moving with heavy crackling sounds
as if a man walking on autumn leaves or crisps
thump, thump thump an electric heartbeat with a sort of
freezing of water glow that expands to diamond diadems of ice,
surely no better compliment to the poem picasso behind the window...
no critical comment, no lovely jubbly one pound fish sing-along in east ham,
no... none of that... the best compliment... a furthered meaning
away from the act from the night... not so much
picasso behind the window... but a bolt of lightning, dancing
a dance of icy luminescent silver in ultra-violet x-ray.
Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 9:24 AM UTC
Finally we invite sleep to eyes
that have not earned their rest.
Yet because I don’t deserve the night
does He cease to put out stars?
Royal diadems in the hand of God.
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 7:47 AM UTC
*True love must assert a soul binding liberty -
But what is right in you, seems like a crime within me.
Your favor leaves me nothing else to require,
You answer my every wish and long out-run all my desires.
What more can I expect while I live?
All your princessly diadems that you so sweetly give -
On that: there you pause; then sighing, you said,
This is justly destined for your worthy head.
For when from my toils I shall at long last rest,
This latest augment of this life - oh I’ve been so blest.
Your lawful issue shall to my lap once again ascend
To the collateral damage of my heart that somehow you end.
My love, though oppressed, moves toward your light -
Dauntless – secure – full of a native fight.
Of every royal virtue that you surely must possess;
Never be still dear, be the bravest, be you, be the best.
Your courage knows no foe, your truth to proclaim
It is your loyalty that I hope is your biggest fame.
Have mercy on this nave my dearest find,
For surely you must be of the forgiving kind.
Why should I then repine against Heaven's decree,
That somehow, someway - you fell in love with me.*
Jun 20, 2019
Jun 20, 2019 at 3:31 PM UTC
A TITLE divine is mine,
For a Wife without
A second of the Lord's Time.
Set this Prison free,
Burdened onto me -
The Queen of Chivalry.
Royal is all but the
Crown -
Diadems of my Death.
A lake to Heaven opens,
When two eyes meet
A Crystal to Crystal -
Rebirth - Renaissance;
Clouded -
Just in moments
Of a Loving Victory -
Erased away,
With the Title
Of Wife,
And Husband,
And on her mood's decay,
Breaking their melody,
In this life,
Is it ever her own day?
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 7:20 PM UTC
it dawned
from the half-bitten fruit,
this boorish serpent,
this inner foreboding
of flesh tingling tempted
out of frame.
sin takes to blood, the nail
sifting the flesh, birthing
the bells of the word
fracturing our silences
displacing the void into radiant senselessness -
this heart of Pilate
where once in front of
this purloined innocence
the temples crumbled to ash
of all beginnings
telling us all of our
preordained peccadillo,
unannounced wraith pouncing
on each to lurid each,
biting more from the world
and its land that remembers
the till of feet welcomed
by diadems of flagella,
love have we not, eternally?
no singing seraphs wept
as the afternoon erupts,
a fragmented word: love.
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 4:29 AM UTC
I stood cautiously upon that great hill,
The breeze was calming, & so very still
That the sweet new blooms were proud.
Languid pull, in a curve, neath a shroud,
Their sweet leaves by sweetness stems,
Crowns that keep those astral diadems
Caught from the budding tears of morn;
And clouds were fair, so wispy and borne
Fresh from the clear beck; they still slept
Upon azure plains of sky; and then crept
A faint buzzing among the green leaves,
Born of a sigh that that quietude heaves,
For not the dimmest stirring in the scene,
Of all the umbrage that lie o'er the green;
Was seen as yet, such Joy
such solace did bring.
Jun 29, 2016
Jun 29, 2016 at 4:09 PM UTC
Mountain winds sigh
Mountain winds caress my face,
Hug me in a fond embrace
Pine their needles wave a greeting that is ancient, timeless, now
Lake of liquid sky ripples near my feet,
Waves of past, future in the present meet
Mountain winds breath
Standing tall against the skies,
Mountains, alpine rulers, rise
Clothed with cloaks of aspen, pine, and jeweled with snows and river flows,
And crowned with diadems of wisp-spun cloud
While birds their piquant trills and whistles sound
Mountain winds roar
Rain itself flings to the ground,
Light and sound clash round and round
Huddled under thrashing boughs, I cower, exult, in the cry
Of earth and sky and wood together torn,
The trees and stones by wild west wind are worn
Mountain winds whisper
Water droplets on the grass
Bend the blades like arcs of glass
Fragrance of new rain and dirt, pine resinous and flowers wild
This is but my dream, my homeward yearning,
Of the mountain winds’ great endless churning
Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 8:27 AM UTC