"effluence" poems
Sopor fuels the pen
Darkness devours the sun
As she carves the page
With beautiful words
*Ethereal, Opulent
Sonder, syzygy*
*Vellichor, Gambol
Efflorescence, Effluence*
Words without meaning
Lurk in the shadows
And hovels of ambition
Creep onto the page
But the mind embraced
In a blanket of obscurity
Cannot find their worth
*Her Mellifluous song
Ensorcelled her lover
Bliss in limerence*
How can the stagnant
Heart waltz with stars, write of love,
Beat in unison?
How can the lifeless
Soul connect with humanity?
My words are worthless
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 7:05 PM UTC
Oh! mother where are the snow falls of yester years?
Where are the great king Ashoka and the world master Sankaracharya?
Where is the ujjayani that was immersed in the literary effluence of
The great dramatist Kalidasa?
Where is the light that shone from the piercing eyes of the warrior
Queen Rudrama Devi and the Goddess Durga?
Where are the snow falls of yester years?
Where is the buzzing sound of the bees that came from the corridors
Of the great king Shajahan? Where are the echoing sounds of the war monger
The sword Thikkana?Where is the gallooping white horse climbed by the unconquerable warrior queen of Jhansi Lakshmi Bai?
Where are the snow falls of yester years?
Where is the fire that emanated from the broad shoulders of
The inimitable king and connoisseur of art, Sree Krishna devaraya?
What happened to the living breaths of Balachandra, the young warrior
And brahmanaya, The great warrior and social reformer?
Where are the snow falls of yester years?
Where are the kings, the great poets, the warriors, the chaste queens?
Where have they gone?
Where are the foot prints of the golden wings of time that fanned and fled?
Oh! Mother, Where are the snow falls of yester years? Where are the snow falls of yester years?
Sep 25, 2011
Sep 25, 2011 at 1:10 PM UTC
Webster was much possessed by death
And saw the skull beneath the skin;
And breastless creatures under ground
Leaned backward with a lipless grin.
Daffodil bulbs instead of *****
Stared from the sockets of the eyes!
He knew that thought clings round dead limbs
Tightening its lusts and luxuries.
Donne, I suppose, was such another
Who found no substitute for sense,
To seize and clutch and penetrate;
Expert beyond experience,
He knew the anguish of the marrow
The ague of the skeleton;
No contact possible to flesh
Allayed the fever of the bone.
. . . . .
Grishkin is nice: her Russian eye
Is underlined for emphasis;
Uncorseted, her friendly bust
Gives promise of pneumatic bliss.
The couched Brazilian jaguar
Compels the scampering marmoset
With subtle effluence of cat;
Grishkin has a maisonette;
The sleek Brazilian jaguar
Does not in its arboreal gloom
Distil so rank a feline smell
As Grishkin in a drawing-room.
And even the Abstract Entities
Circumambulate her charm;
But our lot crawls between dry ribs
To keep our metaphysics warm.
7.2k
dear god i am but
a nose wafting in the scent
of your effluence
Mar 7, 2021
Mar 7, 2021 at 4:07 PM UTC
It shatters,
Into tiny green shards.
Peaceful garden turned rubble.
He is like dirt, he likes the ruin.
When he felt the pain of seeing,
He knew,
He saw it all happen.
Lithe form merging with rough hands,
He sighs now, remembering,
All that happened before,
All he had seen,
It didn't happen twice, thrice, nor six times,
Times are more, his mind has grown more,
His heart pumps rage more.
Rue, crumble, contort, free!
All he felt before,
And all that came now, he let them be.
The rage, blue-flames, wrath,
His unbecoming and rebirth,
Then ashes and flames,
Now sin and woe,
Next tears and rubble,
And finally silence,
Terrible silince, terribly wrong.
He is effluence
Effluence is wrath.
-MoonFirefly
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 3:54 PM UTC
With the piquant poignancy of lurid allusion
I create a dynamically progressive matrix of collusion
Whose apex crux axis is beyond finite solution
And the endergonicaly adhesive pragmatics imbue a cohesively coercive illusion
For the inveterate hypotaxis of livid elusions
I portray a protensive conjunction of latent confusions
Whose effervescent effluence is vagile laconic effusions
And the sardonic impending preponderance conveys sabbat consortium delusions
From the endemic puissance of eclectic synectics
I derive a dialectically semantic sorcery of syntactics
Whose apothegm aphorisms are levity terse synaptics
And the lucidly collusive illuminism educes the aesthetics of geomancy's fatidic
Through the viable salience of kithe’s intrinsics
I exude a portentous pervasion acuity of linguistics
Whose apomixis anabolics are irrefragably felicitous orotund acoustics
And the aural auspice austerities infer axioms of manumission’s eidetics
By the hypercritical mitigations of anachronistic sociology
I purvey rampart ransack oblations of epistemology
Whose azure opulence articulations are futurity ostensive ontology
And the evolutional ontogeny metamorphisms incur a homogeny epiphany deontology
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 10:30 PM UTC
A storm blew through early, left frost
etched, lit, glistening, on
a window's waking surface.
I sit framed by that translucence,
my daughter aligns, orders
mirroring matroyshka doll members.
I reflect on an essay*, how
poems are a symbol of will,
concluding a pact, perhaps
achieved in diction, image metaphor,
adherence to structure, rhyme, form.
Might these devolve to decoration? Or,
trace the transmission of "will to
commitments," expressing “intent”,
"weakly lost or strongly spent?”
Frost etchings fissure, shift, glint, slide
on their emergent effluence,
configure in gusts of cognition.
I sense a covenant in these lines.
my daughter adjusts her doll's placements,
the promise of one revealed in the other.
Copyright © 2004 Gary Brocks
——————————————
Attribution:
Stanzas 3, 4, and 5 are greatly influenced by my reading the Robert Frost essay titled *THE CONSTANT SYMBOL.
The short phrases in italicized quotes are direct quotes from that essay.
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 11:18 PM UTC
You are the soul of my self, life and breath,
endless beginning and duration
of my thoughts, emotions and will,
source of matter creating memory of the soul,
noon and thymos residing in my chest,
heavens in which the afterlife starts,
psyche appearing in my dreams,
wind and air of my inner cosmos,
lightest, spherical atoms composing my soul,
synthesis of all my sensations.
Your words of adoriation are ever living fire.
Flesh of my soul have been irrevocably affected
by your spiritual intelligence
and wisdom of your blood age generating thoughts.
Effluence of your loving spirit inflames circumpolar stars.
Motion in the sky is just reflection of God's destiny for us.
Love was never abstract for Cassiopeia the Queen
and all rising stars like our moon and sun.
Love, innefable realm,
mainstay of heart and mind,
sun in the center of human microcosm,
eyes, ears, tounge, hands and feet of God,
inherent nature of breath during the day and night,
one and only consciousness eluding death and time,
axiomatic language of infinite Universe
intimately connected to the philosophy of the core of all.
You are North Star on celestical sphere of my notions
showing me angelic love of woman
with power of all stars of northern heavens.
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
Like a C-clamp
pistons in my ears
drawing together as if magnets
drawing together as a punishment
for having thought for myself
for having thought of others
for having thought and
my thoughts diverge like
a meteor shower
splaying hither a-thither like
blood spatter at a crime scene but
the victim will not be silenced
even in death there is an
effluence of ideas like
beads at Mardi Gras and
a sense of here and now expands like
easy-cheez on a ******* and
your vice-like grip on my mindset will
not
contain my ideas
because my mind is a river
undammed and
inherently willful
because my mind is
set free
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 11:29 AM UTC
Along the pebbled path she ran
With rose in heart and rose in hand,
Ribbon tied and crushed in grip-
Dew now dripped from petal vein.
A vein, a clouded vein of 19 years-
Ruby, scarlet, sanguine smoke, so slipped
Through the clock. Time tinged with tears
Of slow, sombre, carbon snow, melting
Into red.
Pale, submerged snow-drop shell, hair
Veiling her face from the wind,
A subtle skip, a silk-spun breeze-
Bottled fragments of 6 year old days.
Days, nectar young days of effluence-
When roses sprung , and intertwined,
Her mother’s hand in hers.
Time then tinged with tears of carbon
Snow.
Along the pebbled path she ran,
With rose in heart and rose in hand,
To place scarlett florets on the earth-
Dew now dripped from petal vein
Onto the marble stone.
As feather tears fell, liberal,tender
A sharp pain pricked in her side-
So with rose in heart and rose in hand,
She stood to turn around,
Through clouded, amber-dusted eyes
A rosebush flowered into sight.
Where thorns still sprung and intertwined
Holding roses, holding light.
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 3:27 PM UTC
With the piquant poignancy of lurid allusion
I create a dynamically progressive matrix of collusion
Whose apex crux axis is beyond finite solution
And the endergonicaly adhesive pragmatics imbue a cohesively coercive illusion
For the inveterate hypotaxis of livid elusions
I portray a protensive conjunction of latent confusions
Whose effervescent effluence is vagile laconic effusions
And the sardonic impending preponderance conveys sabbat consortium delusions
From the endemic puissance of eclectic synectics
I derive a dialectically semantic sorcery of syntactics
Whose apothegm aphorisms are levity terse synaptics
And the lucidly collusive illuminism educes the aesthetics of geomancy's fatidic
Through the viable salience of kithe’s intrinsics
I exude a portentous pervasion acuity of linguistics
Whose apomixis anabolics are irrefragably felicitous orotund acoustics
And the aural auspice austerities infer axioms of manumission’s eidetics
By the hypercritical mitigations of anachronistic sociology
I purvey rampart ransack oblations of epistemology
Whose azure opulence articulations are futurity ostensive ontology
And the evolutional ontogeny metamorphisms incur a homogeny epiphany deontology
Aug 31, 2019
Aug 31, 2019 at 11:37 PM UTC
Dandelion dust
Erupting in your wake
Am I the shadow now
Hungering for a hint
Of your glow
The murk on your halo
The effluence tarnishing
Your atmosphere
Gentle in your release
Tear it asunder
Forsake this
Impermanent delight
This craze
Bury it under the blanket
of your yesterday
My devotion
Carried away in the breeze
Unwelcome dwellings
Nestling in my core
Ripping through
An intrepid spirit
Fortified with humiliation
Recquainted with this avenue
Once more
Where fervour hangs it's boots
Am I the shadow now, my sweet
Tugging at the hem of your trousers
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 12:39 PM UTC
I drank way to much vocabulary
before my eager eyes needed to
dilute the intake of my surroundings.
Into slumbered inspired visions,
that would play on my thoughts repetitively,
like a cracked analogue song skipping.
But still I awake in darkness, needing
to release the effluence of what was
indulged upon earlier. That visage a
delusion of slide show moments.
I felt the bed its wet,
I didn't make it in time.
Blind verses wet on the sheets, my hand
was in it, I gag... And then see that its
a mirage of what was drunk upon.
It had to come out at some time.
But 3am couldn't I control my expulsion.
Instead I sit here in sodden verse.
As I wash my sheets, not the first time or
the last. I take heed.. not to drink so much
before I go to bed, because white sheets are
now grey. So many words kept on other layers,
these ones just inevitably washed away.
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 8:33 AM UTC
Blood lashes in the rain as the wind buffeted the Plains of Detritus.
Fetid smells plagued the air in torrents of swirling effluence.
The red moon shone beyond the bending and bowing trees slashing the horizon.
A lone figure stood awash in the downpour yet firmly unaffected by the gale.
"Stay" said the statue.
Unmoving in his conviction that all trespassers be swept away with the storm.
White lighting struck the ground mere feet from his outstretched palm.
The explosion reaping a cacophony of destruction resulting in smoldering craters.
Glare obstructed the morosity but did little to extinguish the rotten fumes of death.
As sight regained clarity another flash lit the scene to reveal a writhing mass
Emerging from the rent earth like the oscillating arms of a millipede.
"Come closer" said the Devil.
In a blink a thousand wails descended on the land.
Baring teeth and grabbing hands.
Reaching...
Reaching...
To grab hold of the light of the last soul holding claim to its life.
Stubborn, it resists the touch of darkness by force of will alone.
Until even the last spark of hope became entangled within the putrid hellscape,
Winking out of existence and forgotten;
Consumed by evil.
"Such is the price of the blood moon" cackled the fallen angel.
Feb 12, 2017
Feb 12, 2017 at 9:16 PM UTC
Black strings concealed in shadows
Winding our souls in its strong bonds
Shackled our boundless mind's hallows.
Swaying gleefully our sense of right and wrongs.
We dance like marionettes,
Underneath the hidden influence.
Our illusions soon confluence,
Draining a great river of effluence--
An effluence of unity and liberty.
Aug 31, 2024
Aug 31, 2024 at 9:56 AM UTC
A cascading effluence of seasoned moments
spilling while twirling
neath the light and the heat of sand's sun,
a whipping windstorm blowing sand's grains throughout the land,
coloring the whole world in tiny stones
for to filter our weeping.
You can not come near me here in this oasis of lashing,
razor tongue, razor mind,
you lunge to strike at will then sooth it by some song of coo.
Not one more tear of my flesh will be made by you.
My body stays spinning midst this desert's painful wilderness,
wringing out one inflicted cut, replacing it with a wound more pure.
Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 6:09 PM UTC
"Stimulus"
A universe of stimulus
No wisdom to be found
Jerk-a-move compulsive
We contrive ourselves
Into existence
Addicted to return
We return
To our own *****
And effluence
So hungry
Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 1:12 AM UTC
The sweetest of confectionery,
I swirl among my basin’s waves
The nectar of life’s love,
I embrace for such pain
An effluence of pure ecstasy,
I erupt to merely contain
Such haste, It pervades
The roots run deep, feel no hurt
The streams dig deeper, feel no fire
The thoughts fall deepest, feel no thing
Metallic clouds cover
a kingdom of sand
Not a chasm
Not a prison
Freedom tingles
I feel in every part,
the luxury inside
Yet it stops, I shiver
I drop,
I flop,
all is cold
I look into their eyes,
Empty holes,
speak goodbyes
No joy
None no more
All that lies of me,
is blinding foam,
dripping to the floor
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 11:11 PM UTC