"edens" poems
i admit to 'male' --
'female' strikes me low
curving
concupiscent hips (of Venus swaying so)
the one who places,
caught bathing in her morph
to mar
her goddess innocence (Peleus grasps her so)
her evergreen paradise-
apple spraying scruples,
while the sun
dries forgiveness **** (on Eve's fragrant *******
in other Edens
Lilith simply leaves him blind
to lust
for unknown Didos (craving **** or suicide)
the limping god
nets love and war, olympicly
to smith
a mortal death (from Vulcan jealousy)
foresight's fire-gift
leaps obedience
to lie
far falls the divine (in ******* he defied)
potent swan of sky,
what judgement?
for a girl
you laid in that white rush, (virginity unfurled)
immortal ****
fates sails of progeny,
raging
poet-birthing strife (for temple priestess' cries)
fated nation-death swoons,
shares beauty's scale,
and Aphrodite's foam (caresses history's thighs)
Trojan tensions mix
the modern mind to heights of doubt
of mythopoets' truth ( -yielding blindnesses)
lonely walk the earth
with guiding wisdom lacking
all the pawns of fate (forget love's darknesses)
sphinxine hunger asks
the soul of destiny
of hubris, tragic sight (and orgiastic nights)
of unknown woman
man struck down
sickly city safe
and burning, yearning (nymph and satyr sating Bacchic rites)
Jun 26, 2012
Jun 26, 2012 at 8:56 PM UTC
The sun rose on me
On the African Continent
On the north west territory
Where beauty meets torment
Dry unforgiving harsh land
Where the sun is King in its mighty light
Bathed by an ocean of shifting sand
Offering an infinite burning sight
Relentless wind, hot and strong
Constantly blowing with a hollow sound
Shaping the Desert's callous character
Invisible merciless powerful master
A Boundless sky, vast & deeply blue
Witness the retched souls & the subdued
Through thirsty lips whispering mercy too
Drinking from a tenacious source of fortitude
The horizon promises much hardship
Scorching heat & tests of faith
The element's forceful grip
til you face your very own wraith
Tarfaya & Smara, my waking world
Desolate wastelands where silence thrives
Sandstorms are born here to whirl & twirl
Existence suspended in time, engulfing all lives
I miss the stars filled sky, in the cold of night
Promises of Edens amongst enduring times
Justifying every pains to be worth a fight
Forging dreams in the night's paradigm
Jul 31, 2012
Jul 31, 2012 at 1:35 PM UTC
Gold shed upon suckling gold,
The time of the bole blackens,
Of the dark mounted through dapple,
While in the sealed apple
The seed cradled toward cold.
A gold on gold spent,
Put by from an elm in its years
Now its gilded of days,
Over turf’s dishevelment;
Where all which is green sickens,
All the fresh shall be sere.
All which is green sickens,
And it is but for a time
Those embered veinings blaze
A year’s delirium;
Or neared of other space,
Unportioned azure shall close
One of more, and which is,
One which goes.
Let the little pupils that will,
Of vision, gaze for salt
To whet their gazing, wit
In one weather is high
From burrow and lair, by
Nether providences’ default
An all’s accrued.
And apposite, beyond
Such primer beholdings, has
Its long accounting known
The beetle’s morsel thus
Was rich, and the slug’s bed on
The oak’s generations, deep
Over the lark’s bones.
In slough of Edens fast
Wit in one weather shall stand,
While millennia nibble at
The sensual apple
Toppled it net,
Plenty in the palm of the hand,
And the fallen not fallen, not lost
From out its certitude—
For our unbeggaring
Has been gross. Few and late
To cherish an immoderate
Wish, hope’s calculus,
Love’s hope; few to miss,
From natural tally ******
In the lime-girdled space
Of choice, where alone
Man can abandon what
Is only his own;
And in cold and tarrying
Their rearisers sleep:
While to the granite cheek
Light’s purples bring
Infinite their ministering,
And past our finial
And ragged crests, to keep
Time’s ambient stood,
Propose horizons from
Their shadowy quarries; while,
In an unwandered wood,
Or under the indifferent foot,
Is let fall, let fall a fruit,
Through eternal leisures down,
For but time’s unravelling.
2.9k
Thought of all those stones hitting my window
The crush lover is like a austere sword
Marble frames
Blue veins
Ducheess ice skies
Pure white sheets
Padded look
Wavy gold hair
Lighthouse freckles reflections
The spellcaster in her room
Gentle sender
Captivating eyes
Creator of edens
She prepares her cotton spell
Si tele swee
lk pa ts
thy
Mi dia du
lk mond st
Thought of all those instants gemstones pictures
- Codelandandmore //23:50 PM ©
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 5:52 PM UTC
I.
Let’s contend no more, Love,
Strive nor weep:
All be as before, Love,
—Only sleep!
II.
What so wild as words are?
I and thou
In debate, as birds are,
Hawk on bough!
III.
See the creature stalking
While we speak!
Hush and hide the talking,
Cheek on cheek!
IV.
What so false as truth is,
False to thee?
Where the serpent’s tooth is
Shun the tree—
V.
Where the apple reddens
Never pry—
Lest we lose our Edens,
Eve and I.
VI.
Be a god and hold me
With a charm!
Be a man and fold me
With thine arm!
VII.
Teach me, only teach, Love
As I ought
I will speak thy speech, Love,
Think thy thought—
VIII.
Meet, if thou require it,
Both demands,
Laying flesh and spirit
In thy hands.
IX.
That shall be to-morrow
Not to-night:
I must bury sorrow
Out of sight:
X.
—Must a little weep, Love,
(Foolish me!)
And so fall asleep, Love,
Loved by thee.
2.4k
Alabaster Archipelagos
Benevolent Beauty Beaming
Constructive Contradictive Creative Contemplations
Dante's Darling Dances Deliberating Denominatives
Effervescent Escapisms Endearingly Emerge Elusive Edens
Fantastic Flamboyant ******** Flamed Fabulous Fiery Flickerings
Gorgeous Garden Gim'memores Gaudied Garnishing Gasps
Heavenly Hues Humming Heart's Harmonies
Immortaly Impregnated Inspired Ideals
Jessamin Jargon Jacuzzi Jams
Know-how Knacking Knurls
Light-spirited Lovers
Merge Magnificent
Naked Nocturno Nights
Omnipresent Ousia Over Odeons
Palpitations Perfect Peaks Pi Paws
Quintessential Quality Quarrels Question Quarks Quietness
Rododendron's Richameters Rescued Raw Reeling Ruby Realms
Sentient Syllabic Sapfo's Splendidly Spirited Semantics
Turning Turner's Timeless Timeless Twinklings
Unified Undulatory Unsolved Unicorns
Velvety Venice Voyages
Wanton Wantings
Xsylophone Xsantiphas
Yearnin' Yuki's Yen
Zed's Zealous Zen-it-hall Zeppelins
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 9:26 AM UTC
choices
embrace things
that sickens
enslaves
maims
kills
unbound
yourself
loose
your chains
turn away from
the dungeon
that has
become
your death
chamber
you
alone
crafted
with such
deft skill
you exiled
yourself
hid away
from the living
inhabiting a
convenient
confinement
relishing
the deceitful
pleasures of an
addled mind
a twisted
portrait
of a
shackled
self
living
inside
the
dark abode
of your head
bumping
about in
unmapped
caves
dwelling
in a place
that no one
could find
nor dare
explore
you heap
stones
at the door
providing
your only
means
of escape
safely
entombed
in your
vapid
delusions
a decrepit
graveyard
an abandoned
township
of lonely
sarcophagi
long forgotten
by the
moldering
bodies
of the city's
ghostly
citizens
you reek
with the
stench
of death
you
murdered
yourself
and
became
dead
to us
But
Jesus
wept
over
your
self
denigration
never
forsaking
your favored
condition
The
Good Friend
lifted
you
from
Edens
dust
and
showered
you
with
fine
things
yet
you
found
no joy
in
the gift
of solace
the might
of grace
the balm
of love
the rest
of peace
all
only
heaped
torments
upon
you
your
sisters
wailed
in grief
imploring
The
Resurrector
to make you
whole
he only
shrugs
and
extends
a palm
unloose
the rags
of your
swaddled
grief
unbound
yourself
Lazarus
come out
and walk
amongst
the living
again
put
down your
stones
the hand
is nigh
choose well
my friend
St. Alban's
Bible Study
7/09
jbm
Nov 7, 2011
Nov 7, 2011 at 10:45 AM UTC
silver lines the trees
and gold lines the skies belly
strip of pink azure highlight the docile clouds
as the pine forests rise up all around
a mist devours the eye line
and as it does cloaks my clock
time stops
it doesn't exist here
no more are we bound to the slave driver of 24 hour monotony
but the metronome strikes one
two
three
minus seven
plus twentyfive cupcakes
filled with a blackberry light jam capable of aiding in levitating your shoes
the mist unfurls
and a mountain peak emerges as i run towards the ever rolling stones
that gather no moss
but pass
by the chicken and chip shops to wards
green earthyness
and fresh produce
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 12:11 PM UTC
After hitting a brick wall with your face
Over
And
Over again
After walking against a rubber band that refused to be broken
(for 18 months)
After wading through snow and sleet and humidity and fire and water and electricity and deserts and Edens and hells
After rubbing dollar store ointment on the battle scars and scribbling pointless questions in your diary
(asking if it was all worth it)
tattooing the pointless answers to your forehead, wishing that you were more capable of deep thoughts
When the dust settles
When the roar of the engines have died
When the ugly monsters stop rearing their heads
When all of the hornets retreat
You look down
And realize that what you were overcoming all this time
Was yourself.
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 6:47 PM UTC
i dreamt of the carnivals caravan
dreamt of the wild rose who dwelt there
enchanter of strange spells under
the quick moon flying in clouds high up
beyond fingertips reach
enchanter of rich tapestry within moonlight
of compassion's gentlest light
her sweet smiles embraces all
the caravan laid up roadside for the night
and she spread out her blanket
with her hoops she would spin the stars upon
with her hoops she would spin her magic and song
she picked a bead from her woven hair
and set it like a jewel in the center of my world
and with gentlest grin
did ask if i wished to be lost or found
knowing not which to be i let her choose
and wrapping the hoops round her
she spun the song of seasons feast
she wove the tale from fabric of starlight and roses
in the morning light
i awoke to the last carriage of the caravan
cresting distant hill like a the last piece of dream fading
i had been set loose like a strange ship on a strange sea
to find my destiny in the wild western lands
where a dark dusky angel would
take me into her song
where i would find a ship to set sail
for the lost edens tale
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 6:27 PM UTC
The Quiet of a Pickwickian World
By Sy Roth
In the silence of my Pickwickian world,
A transcendent quiet stands vigil.
Left to its own devices it rattles around, a
lonely brown-suited courier,
Hefting weighty cargo from one sooty corner to the next.
Seeks tranquility in a world where,
Fettered by golden reins
Hobbled by unceremonial chain mail
Lanced by coronets of thorns,
Astride, a long-in-the-tooth steed
Spurred on to wrestle shredded windmills,
A cavil of unrepentant correctors rest.
And they still come--
Tidal waves of disturbances,
Tsunamis that rip ashore and sweep all away
Into a loathsome pile,
Bilious flotsam of a generation bereft of empathy.
A forced silence clings to the dusty rafters
Where sages once stood
Hanging like KKK castoffs
In a closeted Jim Crow attic of rules and regulations gone mad.
A quiescent quiet demands quiet.
Nestles behind muffled screams
Of ages of piles of rotting flesh.
Dolorous vision of a peaceful world
Where peace packed for a long vacation
To Edens that exist only in fairy tales.
Bring with them untruths of understanding
Swaddled in ****** soiled bedclothes.
Leave me to my silence,
Lave me of the Ash Wednesday smudge
Where realities come home to roost in the dim corners
Where the highwaymen have no access.
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 8:03 AM UTC
Ahhh, but,
it's simple pleasures , that rejuvenate life's rough weather patches
and it's interesting how animosity turns from curiosity to real world , pilgrams
and biblical stories turned hindu prophecies and karmic debts paid in full .
of stories unwinding, to fantasies tidings -
tidal whirlpools of old age relinquishment
from trapped in butterfly effect
movements
and conjoined twins of several natures
EARTH , AIR, FIRE , WATER AND EATHER.
there seems to be no end to the twin connections -
but a very fine line between earth and heaven
a very fine tune between love and lust
a very fine sand dune's shapeful curve between trust and lack luster half hearted , half arsed apathy.
it seems that there are no more fruits in edens dens , then zen masters at hand to help us through the din try not to get those dijins in your ears but let them pass freely - knowing you are safe from fear.
everyone has their own soul mate
but some have mates
i tell ya
this is set to be a pretty interesting venture ,
to discover and adventure
across plains of realization ,
with the wind of uncomplicated, honest , one love
as the sail
and i hail a taxi
to the next borderline and i know we'll be making it in time and style
and keepin it all holy
all the whilst
we walk on sacred ground
we walk on sacred ground
we are sacred ground.
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 9:44 AM UTC
on cloudless days we besmirch the suns reign
the spirit hankers for Autumn
the baltic coast apposite
launches thy being by the northern skies,
a trinity of light leds to the caucasus plains
to reveal Edens gardens
and locate cultivars of apple
and vine
to graft onto our dying seasons
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 4:03 PM UTC
Within the fires are the spirits
The gong upon our anvil
As such arms can only be made in Heaven.
Of various persons each known to his part
Distinct are the Poet and the Dreamer
And so I was Gods ape,
Piety so chaste
I hold it half a sin
Entering the cold broken world
Thus Adam lamented to himself aloud.
"No coward soul is mine
What will come at last too soon
For honour bit-wize travels
Unwinking on this fair ship 'Life'".
But there was resistance involved
The swift blazing flag of regiment
As bare as a birds tail
To make a clean breast
The iron entered my soul.
I pray you
The earthly bribble-brabble
A veil for the glory of Angels
Lest evil tidings to utter
To turn and face them
And see ones self
Not to be lost but by the makers hand.
ELEETE J MUIR
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 12:12 AM UTC
.
Showers of green, spark
On the leafing trees leaping
With a star. Gusty rains, spread,
Like sowing from spirited heaven,
Are weaving the moist blankets
That life cuddles in. Blooms
Burst into the freshnesses
On parade, the butterflies
So soon sweeping the air
With daydreams of colour
Into the light of the crystal dew
Which shimmers in the grasses,
And the wildflowers are beading
With the bees homing for honey,
In webs of abundance, of newness
After the hushed, blanched shrouds
Of winter, over growing, everywhere
Joy breaks, seems in seconds coming,
There is threading explosion, of miracle,
Such Edens in the wild gardens who cling
And glow for that one true love, new brand,
April spring day song, clutched in Lordy sun.
Apr 11, 2017
Apr 11, 2017 at 9:28 PM UTC
6 days of work
On the 7th day you rested
Seeing all was good
In all you had invested
Took the hand of man
And gave to him the charge
The taste of freedom and
You his loving God
To ward off loneliness
Made for him a helper
Inside of Edens bliss
Paradise the shelter
With only one stipulation
Listen what you're saying
Do not eat from the tree
The only rule you're making
Listened to that snake
Lying in his hissing
Made the fatal mistake
He was just a henchman
********************************
Eating from the tree
Who told you, you were naked
Sin has been set free
Paradise has left ya
Look what you have done
Kicked out of the garden
Hear the whole earth moan
Nothing's more alarming
Nothing now has been the same
Since the apple then was bitten
Think I'll give this poem the name
Let the festivities begin
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 8:10 AM UTC
Keep your foot on the gas
Your heart on the brake.
return your map
to it's original destination...
the mad rhino
of your naivete, churning -
heresies
that remove
the mundane
carols
in the vault of
all choirs;
tongue kissing the Pegasus
of polyamorous
glints from god's
monocle
flanking the herd
of Gnostic Ferraris,
chewing the soft shoots of bonsai prairie
roaming the banquet
of aimless,
refreshing the lady's goblet
of godsmack
as naturally a termite
loathes a Queen that can't remember
your name
because she hates
your father...
miles and miles of
pink
accumulate the misfits of your jigsaw.
gaining on the horizon
of your blindspot
feels like an Ecstasy of Selfishness
baptized in chrysanthemums
of compassion.
whose pollen makes a black honey
that fills the gap
between the smell of a baseball glove
and third degree burns
from your heart's
desire.
you are pilgrim charmed, out in the open heart of serene surgery, on an errand, poppies fed to destiny
on pillows of rice and grey Callings...
you are tapping the apocalypse of previous Edens
witness to the birth of a vague distinction
between your honest mistakes and god's love in the 23rd row, catching the school play
you wrote in the margins of your error.
a fruit bat with scurvy on picture day... fanning a Polaroid of Duration
in kabuki.
your car, a Chinese beetle hugging the asphalt Rhine of a Blue Melon
tilting on the axis
of an early spring...
your windshield, yielding
with honor
to savage blows
from sunsets
that milk
nightfall.
mecca, entangled in your dead sea sonnets
is the hole in your shoe
where moons clog
and first steps shave
their heads, smooth
hiking on four wheels , approaching the true form of an open question
head out the window across from mirage with spin in it's teeth.
facing the jasmine of bittersweet typhoons
inking henna tattoos
on both arms
of stopped clocks...
like kudzu, in a difference engine, coiled around a spark
like a widow 'round a foggy recollection of her true love
39 pixels
of a better half
that made you
whole.
Apr 13, 2017
Apr 13, 2017 at 3:33 AM UTC
Winst
.
~
But O' you Winst,my darling friend!
Its so much than magic
How I counts you than tens
When I number and marks my friends
.
~
O' you Winst of spirit smiles
Let me tell you ,how best
I emptys the person I pile
When we embrace and gentle press
.
~
But O' you charming Winst
Do you know your eyes lies the honey gardens
So full of roses and spells,and envince
Edens apples and serpent pardons
.
~
But O' you Winst! A star model
A goddess daring in desires
How sweet,my sights,you bottle
When you poses,and sparks your fires
.
~
But O' you beauty to behold,Winst!
How sweet is it when you snakes
Deep in our minds,when you're in our midst
As our heart explodes and breaks
.
~
But O' you provocative body,Winst!
Melting of a thousand clay and aroma rhymes
But veils the poets works, your mist
Hope you unravels our pride with time
.
~
Again,O you my darling friend
Let's keep writing this stories of pleasure
In endless perfection,but to end
Trailing the beginnings of our time with worth measure
©Historian E.Lexano
™Recalcitration With Excellence
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 7:20 AM UTC
Devils of saintly virtues?
Or a saint of sin?
Who is evil or good?
Who bestowed such titles?
A boisterous ***** baron?
Ordained by dour dukes?
Spilled blood to pave a road?
Does your honor sunder and erode?
Was it virtuous to shove innocents?
To put them under lock and key?
Saintly, to make them fear?
Courage, to turn a blind eye?
Is it a sin to feed the starving enemy?
A devil to help a dying foreigner breath?
Bereave their suffering?
To feel guilt when malnourished prisoners beg for feed?
What makes you so noble?
Foible flags, and an adorable mantra?
A little training makes it right?
Maybe you know it does not,
Paving roads with bones and blood?
Did you join to fire a gun?
To retrieve bullets from inside of someone?
To stand for your flag and defend?
Does a medal wash away those sins?
All forgiven because you won?
Bombs dropped and humanity undone,
Another chapter in the book of justification,
Titled, ‘War is Hell’
The history of death, peace unsung,
Souls seized, leaders appeased,
From rot, money and disease,
Waiting for battle under south side trees,
What makes you better then them?
Education? A uniform?
Signing your life away to conform?
What if your not as noble as you seem?
Noble intentions in a hellish scene,
In total might, what if neither is right?
A hired killer of a higher power,
Atrocities in the name of swell intentions,
Killing for Lord Benton, or General Jenkins,
Does what you read make you mad?
Or sad?
Will war ravished ruffians take pity?
Is it wrong if they slaughter and **** your life?
Everyone in it?
Will your god founded, blessed flag save you?
Maybe they are right,
After all,
You did it to them first,
Suddenly it’s wrong? No chalking up to war is hell?
Maybe you’re lost,
Maybe notches on your gun makes you proud of past,
Maybe feel lied to, in a cloud,
Or maybe you’re a demonic psychopath,
The history of Saints is usually tattered with sin,
Passing volatile judgements upon men,
Devils usually do what they are asked,
Whether or not it should come to pass,
After all,
It was conflict that caused Edens fall,
Do you care if you’re right or wrong?
You, mercenary of the flag?
When is wrong, right?
Right, wrong?
Call you hero and sing your song,
Will history see it like you?
After all,
Stonewall made innocent civilians fall,
Regarded hero,
Instructed by a drunk,
Who are you?
What makes you so great?
Why are you right?
Why are you wrong?
In the end, I don’t care if you think,
Or ask yourself stated questions,
That’s not my biz,
Simply put...
It is what it is..
Apr 21, 2019
Apr 21, 2019 at 1:15 PM UTC
Nothing but this exists.
Nothing but you,
Nothing but me,
Nothing but this nothingness.
I am the infinte,
the almighty.
I am everything and nothing,
I am the void in your soul,
the mystery in your ear,
that call of night and darkness
in the hallow sweat of fear.
I’m a wreck,
a ship on edens shore.
I am here,
there,
and one day I will be no more.
I am dissatisfaction and I am pounding at your door.
But do not answer or acknowledge me.
I am too busy
waging little wars against my battered skin.
I am that itch that stings in the crook of your back,
the place you cannot reach.
Let me freeze or let me burn,
but do not come out here with me.
I need
to be
alone.
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 4:04 PM UTC
To wake,
when the only light is a greasy yellow morning
oiling itself up against the window.
When the door stands,
around the corner and out of sight,
open to the humid comfort of rain today.
To wake.
To see how far I haven't come,
though I do want my life,
and all its stagnant petals,
for the sake of truly ardent ties to the people there.
To wake,
and want death as well.
No more prostrate thinking,
dwelling on the fragrances of lost Edens,
and other things I cannot have.
To wake,
and discover a season
so rid of constants that there are no ports in this storm,
nor lands to call home,
nor even shoals to sink to
in tears.
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 6:45 PM UTC
the wind embraces her
and sends her embroidered hair
to streaming like wild creatures dancing on spring breeze
she runs her fingertips along my cheek
and with the measured and carefully tender kiss of her smile
she releases me to wander the sunlight
and seek the turns of phrase
seek the true words that entice the day
to its beautiful paths
she leans over to show
and with such seductive pose
she is like a winterbird
warmth wrapped in brilliant plumage
winterbird perched on summer shore
brilliance feather and song so sweet
her voice is like spring come to the soul's heart
warm flow of such tender thought
that even the darkest must surely embrace with joys
winterbird with her embroidery hair loose
to catch sparkles of sunlight on the beads
to catch the beauty of springs day
winterbird come to sing in dreams
some song to devilish delight dance in wild freedoms
by enchanters firelight
winterbird how would you unlock me
with simple gestures you open the heart
with the ease of magics hand you unearth edens gates
and with simple pure girlish giggles
run dancing across timeless meadowland
she is eden breathing
she the the quiet magic that the world spins upon
like a ring of earthy fires in dreamscapes tale
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 8:27 AM UTC
you'll always venture near dark gardens,
through mazes going along eastern hills
over fences you'll explore vast spaces
made of imaginary kingdoms
until the sun quits raying and shining down,
scamper into joyous field of flowering sepals just heavenly
see the valley's dandelions sway and drift side to side
under olive trees, from vine to vine
out even further lies some open-faced southern edens,
for visiting despite malevolent heathens not going their
expected ways
-c.j.
Apr 8, 2017
Apr 8, 2017 at 11:55 PM UTC
Cracked lips,
starving for just a drop,
running my tongue over them,
hoping that you'll grace me with a few dark clouds,
a rain shower,
no matter how brief.
The crackling lightning and thunder
would be a welcome consequence
to the desperate vying for your attention.
I drag my anguished limbs across the expanse of your sand and clay floor,
wavering between a hope for an end,
and a hope that if I keep going
and prove myself,
that you'll put me out of my misery yourself.
Your sun beats down on me with a hot weight
that I've grown used to.
In the distance,
visions of lush, green-dusted mountains dance,
but I learned long ago that they remain at the same distance,
no matter how far I walk.
I've had fantasies of shimmering lakes
and Edens full of colorful blossoms and succulent fruits,
but despite my hunger,
despite my thirst,
and despite the aches that burden my body,
the most beautiful delusion I've succumbed to,
is one of you,
appearing before me,
and holding out your arms in that perfect, sweet embrace,
knowing that it would relieve my every ailment.
Dec 9, 2017
Dec 9, 2017 at 3:27 PM UTC
Showers of green, spark
On the leafing trees leaping
With a star. Gusty rains, spread,
Like sowing from spirited heaven,
Are weaving the moist blankets
That life cuddles in. Blooms
Burst into the freshnesses
On parade, the butterflies
So soon sweeping the air
With daydreams of colour
Into the light of the crystal dew
Which shimmers in the grasses,
And the wildflowers are beading
With the bees homing for honey,
In webs of abundance, of newness
After the hushed, blanched shrouds
Of winter, over growing, everywhere
Joy breaks, seems in seconds coming,
There is threading explosion, of miracle,
Such Edens in the wild gardens who cling
And glow for that one true love, new brand,
April spring day song, clutched in Lordy sun.
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 5:35 PM UTC