"eldorado" poems
I rose with chilled air of dawn.
Holding the baby sun on my palm
I ponder at his mystery of liquefaction,
That spreads the hidden gold of Eldorado
Over my shivering shoulders.
I wish if I were a flamingo
Waiting on one leg
For the perfect moment of sunrise,
To dissolve all of my tints of pink
With his melted gold
On the blue lagoon of Galapagos.
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 2:24 AM UTC
By a route obscure and lonely,
Haunted by ill angels only,
Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT,
On a black throne reigns upright,
I have reached these lands but newly
From an ultimate dim Thule—
From a wild weird clime that lieth, sublime,
Out of SPACE—out of TIME.
Bottomless vales and boundless floods,
And chasms, and caves, and Titan woods,
With forms that no man can discover
For the dews that drip all over;
Mountains toppling evermore
Into seas without a shore;
Seas that restlessly aspire,
Surging, unto skies of fire;
Lakes that endlessly outspread
Their lone waters—lone and dead,
Their still waters—still and chilly
With the snows of the lolling lily.
By the lakes that thus outspread
Their lone waters, lone and dead,—
Their sad waters, sad and chilly
With the snows of the lolling lily,—
By the mountains—near the river
Murmuring lowly, murmuring ever,—
By the gray woods,—by the swamp
Where the toad and the newt encamp,—
By the dismal tarns and pools
Where dwell the Ghouls,—
By each spot the most unholy—
In each nook most melancholy,—
There the traveller meets aghast
Sheeted Memories of the past—
Shrouded forms that start and sigh
As they pass the wanderer by—
White-robed forms of friends long given,
In agony, to the Earth—and Heaven.
For the heart whose woes are legion
’Tis a peaceful, soothing region—
For the spirit that walks in shadow
’Tis—oh, ’tis an Eldorado!
But the traveller, travelling through it,
May not—dare not openly view it;
Never its mysteries are exposed
To the weak human eye unclosed;
So wills its King, who hath forbid
The uplifting of the fringed lid;
And thus the sad Soul that here passes
Beholds it but through darkened glasses.
By a route obscure and lonely,
Haunted by ill angels only.
Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT,
On a black throne reigns upright,
I have wandered home but newly
From this ultimate dim Thule.
4.9k
Gaily bedight,
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Singing a song,
In search of Eldorado.
But he grew old—
This knight so bold—
And o’er his heart a shadow
Fell as he found
No spot of ground
That looked like Eldorado.
And, as his strength
Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow—
“Shadow,” said he,
“Where can it be—
This land of Eldorado?”
“Over the Mountains
Of the Moon,
Down the Valley of the Shadow,
Ride, boldly ride,”
The shade replied,
“If you seek for Eldorado!”
2.8k
When it's all going smooth, you're talking millions weekly
JC is on his way, to pick up bundles of illicit US drug money
Trouble is getting it back to Mexico and depositing in the banking secretly
There are members of the cartel, that have anywhere up to $300 million, pure honey.
Just sitting idle in their houses and they can't spend or use of it, not even a bit
Once you've gone into partnership with the cartels
You're only handling their money or changing it
You can't leave, they'll find you, kidnap your family and Fedex them back as parcels
They tell you "you have to do this"
If not, they will **** you and they don't ever miss.
Here is the money. What do I with it then?
I get 5 ID's and I'm going to the currency exchange to change the dollars again
You always have to give $200 to the cashier, which we put in here
She logs into the system and records the transactions, that appear
Just as though they were made by tourists
Then we pass them onto our cartel bosses, who are very near us.
The cash is now laundered and its origin erased
They can deposit their money, which is now clean into Pesos, that can't be traced
But this cash started its journey 3,000 miles away
One of the biggest narco distribution hubs in America, I'd say
The windy cities railway, port and interstate highway systems, are the best
Making it the ideal location, distributing Dope and Cash from across the Midwest.
Approximately 70% of the US population lives within a day's drive of Chicago
The Southside is where a lot of the business gets done, just like in Eldorado
Every deal is a drop in the bucket, that contributes to a mighty river of cash
Chicago has over 70 gangs, with up to 150,000 members, who are all smoking hash
Making it the largest and badest gang capital of the America’
Handling the retail, an army of local gangbangers we call the Drug Gangsta's.
Sep 10, 2019
Sep 10, 2019 at 6:03 PM UTC
Such a place exists, I kid you not
It's a paradise deep in the SC
I imagine it was named just for me
The buildings are exquisitely adorned
Row after Rainbow Row, stunning, the lot
Drenched in history of two wars
Ghosts haunt the Holy City at night
May haunt it myself when the time is right
Fresh seafood to honest Southern soul
The delicacies are among its many lures
Chuck Town may be my Eldorado
Not mythical but shrouded in golden treasures
I couldn't dream up a more idealistic setting
It's as if it were erected and named for me
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 10:05 PM UTC
I dream of yesterdays gone
Where laughter is heard and love everywhere
Letting me wander half-memories in a happy haze
Dry eyes
Warm cheeks
And in an instant it vanishes
Still smiling
Wake to cruel reality
And onto everything fading brain clutches uselessly
As if pursuing Eldorado or some other impossible treasure
Dec 7, 2020
Dec 7, 2020 at 4:13 AM UTC
Chess pieces
The number of one to form action
For the presidential elections
Tests conducted to understand its position
Things to be brought into submission
Strategy of kings with glasses
Things played in huge masses
Fear of buttons onto children
Situations of the system
Survival mind of terror
Domino effect
The Parts of the system errors
Supreme dictatorships
Powered by the battleships
Hands in fields
Eldorado on the leash
Rules to work with
The new government elected
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 5:07 AM UTC
I know we will end up getting hurt
Every memory cuts right through
Passing time as we grow and change
The memories never do
To hold the fleeting happiness
Together once shared
Had to capture past with photographs
Smiles we no longer wear
Instead are small
Sorrowful
Strained
Matching the sadness in pained eyes
Say we can retreive love lost
Telling ourselves lies
Sometimes have this look about you
Current of convincing energy
Against all sense and reason struggle
Trick my heart back into loyalty
Head above devoted delusions
Waiting for the rest of myself
My body's still stuck at rock bottom
After years of your loosely veiled hell
Love is the true Eldorado
Is a cruel mirage
Paradise we're not meant to find
Love is just pain camoflauged
Apr 25, 2022
Apr 25, 2022 at 5:08 AM UTC
The fastest way to feel
or get hurt is through
the path of love,
though it is not threatening,
it only beckons the worthy ones.
It is a joy-pain road to the
miraculous and the mysterious.
The unknown forces of
the spirit divine is hidden within it.
Though fearful,
it is still safe and secure,
with the ability to heal
anything it touches.
Full of bliss and joyful tenderness,
intriguing and captivating.
It is a rock of offense,
if it hits you,
you just gotta fall,
and be in love,
it crushes and squeezes you,
so you can give all,
and when you fall on it,
you crash and fall in love.
I know the way to eldorado,
I know the way to Ionano,
I know the way to your soul,
Yes I know,
Believe me I know.
It is only through a heart
full of love,
a heart molded by love,
a heart that can love again,
even when bruised
and broken by love.
A heart that can find love
in the unlovable places.
The heart that can forgive
the hurts however deep.
A heart that can pass
through the narrow gate.
The one that can believe
it can do the impossible.
The one who sees with
the eyes of God,
for God dwells in such heart.
Such a beautiful heart knows
the unexplainable mysteries of the
invisible road to the abode of love,
full of lovely memories,
memories that never want to let you go,
a little hug, a little kiss, and little gifts
are all a little something
that makes me want to cry,
wishing it would last forever.
Honor such a heart and soul
that can love you anyway.
Such heart has truly found God
for God is love.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 11:28 AM UTC
So mud splattered
His armor tattered
In darkness and in shadow
Had journeyed a bit
The same old ****
In search of a Cadillac Eldorado
His beard long
This knight so wrong
His heart became a shadow
Closed his eyes
Still heard the cries
But not of a Cadillac Eldorado
And as his morals
Lost their quarrels
He came upon the wandering shadow
“Shadow” he croaks
the one with the spokes
the beautiful Cadillac Eldorado
Over the ghettos
Of Pompano
Into the field of the shadow
Ride, boldly ride
The shade replied
If you want a Cadillac Eldorado
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 11:44 PM UTC
tonights the night ,that we run free
and sail across the skies
set fire to the fields of grass
and in the flames we lie.
we lie not only in the flames
but in the star crossed waters
breaking down the barriers
we oh-so-often encounter
tonights the night we pour our lives
into a cup of bree
start fights against a desperate system
a witness to the scene.
a witness to the civalized ,
crazy, ******* men
who dictate ways to justify
a spoiled genertion
tonights the night we find the face
of all and knowing truths
we'll find the land eldorado
and hang it by a noose.
destroying all the poverty
and judgment of the lives
of those who may live differently
a world of lows and highs.
tonights the night we paint the town
in cycadelic tones
groups of faceless matadors
in mass, we stand alone.
confused, we find an intrest
in paranormal things
searching for another way
to earn those angels wings.
tonights the night we stand our ground
not jump, but break the fence
embark along our epic journey
a life that could make sence
no longer will we live in fear
of all we do not know
prove, the myths are logical
across the universe we'll go.
tonights the night we sing a tune
that test the strands of our existance
and tell of all the lies
that float above our empty heads.
the drones will come alive
Aug 14, 2011
Aug 14, 2011 at 12:40 AM UTC
cigarettes and flat coke are the best hangover cures. being trapped in awe with metaphorical heart eyes while watching a double rainbow start to peek out from under the clouds after a midday storm is something to be excited about. rizz hits bombs. if you find someone who’s kinda bizarre and kinda dreamy and kinda confused who you get along with really well AND who makes you feel like you just went for a swim in a lake of pixie dust...well he's sketchy as **** because people like that don't exist. let him go. if you decide you wanna keep him, godspeed. you’ll spend a lot more time at the gas station than you ever thought. monsters are real. be as loud as you want. nothing’s ever what it seems. shooting down beer bottles with .22s is a good way to spend quality time with your pops. bailey's is where you wanna be on a tuesday night. waste your summers by sunset chasing in a '74 eldorado, write down your dreams as soon as you wake up, and never let ‘em say ya ain’t good enough.
-z. vega
Jun 25, 2016
Jun 25, 2016 at 3:09 PM UTC
i wept for the moping owl
that had blood dripping form her eyes
then at midnight she’ll always cry
“your demons are out why don’t you follow suit”
I’ve always known this night-bird
for the darkness she and i shared
my shows had also known her
together darkness was our only scar
i loved the dark scribbling of poe
that demons may come and demons may go
on the illusive road of Eldorado
like blood melted in December’s snow
no one is ever there you see
behind the garment of your lovely fear
whatever you think is whatever will be
Goodbye Owl, for dawn is near.
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 6:09 AM UTC
I, to mine eyes
Through to orchard's unafraid
Always my thoughts travel wide
And bless such fruit as may be made
Tumbling ever into, orchards bloom, and supple shade...
I, to mine eyes
Have yet to master my master's trade
My thoughts plotting, too far and wide
And mention not, so much left unmade
Unravelling my orchard's bloom, in a tearful fade...
I, to mine eyes
Am a pressed man, with so much yet to say
So, I claim these thoughts, too savvy tried
With humility, I forfeit this orchard, soft and stayed
And march a steady pace, into this soft parade...
I, to mine eyes
Have climbed my Everest, affected the deepest caves
Carved my thoughts a golden, enticing, compromise
Searched for Eldorado, and returned unscathed
Now, I march into my orchard's bloom, quite, unafraid...
Jan 3, 2021
Jan 3, 2021 at 8:36 PM UTC
many times you committed
set out on your journey
the search for the glade in the forest
not quite Eldorado, but something close
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 10:16 AM UTC
A table for three,
Though it’s just me.
A candle stand from a previous century,
Supports a stump with a bright flame
That will burn for eternity;
A chill in the air,
As I stare
At the two glasses in front of me;
A Sicilian Kiss and a 12 year old Eldorado –
Truth is, I’m not thirsty –
I wish that were the case.
Reality is, I’m alone,
In an unfortunate state of our bar;
Drinking alone, but drinking for two.
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 5:16 PM UTC
It has been- the same ole' scene
in this same ole', stock city.
I spend my moons- singing out,
baffoon -ishly,
this same ole' song of Eldorado.
I sing this same ole' song:
as the dead, golden grass
grows grand and green.
I sing this same ole' song:
as a sixty mile, whipping wind
blows through the Mississippi.
I sing this same ole' song:
under the succulent shine of,
the fullest of many moons.
I sing this same ole' song:
until I hear the beetles and worms
chew through this coffin,
deep in the ground of Eldorado.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 12:44 PM UTC
Oh, you blast'd and blustery evening,
- how you do, indeed, leave me grieving
- a brother o' mine- a partner in crime;
- a peaceful man who ended up freezing
- such a - very - long, long time - ago.
"Careful not to crash your chariot in the snow, Giddy!
For- at -40 degrees: being stuck in a ditch isn't pretty;
- are you sure you want to leave? It's, ever, so misty
- in that deep valley just North of this ole' city:
- Eldorado. Giddy, if you go & are engulfed in snow
- then I'll wake tomorrow with woes- & feeling guilty.
Feeling guilty because I know I could've stopped you
- but you wouldn't hear my spew- of caring concern.
So- tomorrow morning, I will learn-
- of your death.. I'm sure as heck
- that someone'll stumble upon your carriage wreck."
Aegidius' carriage crashed upon a lonely back road:
-a quiet back road that nobody has ever known,
- a quiet back road where people seldom go;
-where his horses have laid down in the snow & froze
-and he knows- that he will, likely, be the next to go.
God only knows, what hides within those snows!
If he don't end up froze, I'm sure that the crows
- would love to decompose, and dispose of, those
- fleshy bits of his- after all that's left are his ribs
- lying in the snow: torn apart by God only knows.
Dec 28, 2016
Dec 28, 2016 at 3:35 PM UTC
For who am I to judge another sinner in front of God. For who am I to feel pain for foolish actions done for misguided reasons. For who am I to be selfish for I have no reason to suffer. For I am not to play God in this game of black and white. For I am in no position to have sympathy and pity thrown upon me. For I am not the soul that should have wishes wasted upon. For what does a blind man wish for except for the sight of others. For what does a deaf child see but the joys of sound. For what does a true sufferer feel except for the selfishness of her own desires of hope casted away by times of neglection. For I know not of answers to prayers begged upon the broken sky's rays of sunlight. For I know not of the reasons for tears blood and death but only ones inner beast looking for it's fountain to Eldorado. For I know not of the amount of hurt in ones shattered soul to the point of rest. For who is anyone to judge another sinner in the hands of God. For Who is any one to play God in the game of black and white except for the one who sees grey. For who is anyone to think they know their purpose before fulfilling their task to reach the true wealth. For why do I suffer, for what is my journey, for who am I?
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 1:32 AM UTC
To where can I find you, Eldorado,
Can you be found within loves grotto?
Romanticism, of that I'm unknowing.
My heart perceives afficianado.
Who can tame this mind of mine,
Her heart tends to prove sublime.
I'm painted on a love-locked canvas,
The more I learn,
The more I stand for this.
The more I learn,
I see GOD's hand with us.
I strive to bleed,
the blood of trust.
I try to leave,
Escape words hushed.
I strive to hold,
in left ring hand,
I strive to tie ...
... that gold love band!
<3
Sep 27, 2019
Sep 27, 2019 at 11:29 AM UTC
Phillip O'Crowley has fallen down dead
- and I dread- the part that comes next.
Yes! It leaves me feeling quite perplexed;
- thinking it may be my soul- which parishes next.
I begin to build my bush covered, hidden home
-in a lovely, solace place that no one has ever known-
as their own. Yes! It shall be mine, and mine, alone.
A place where I'll grind down stones and bone
- in order to construct my magnificent throne.
Yes! It'll be more immaculate than Cologne- or Rome.
You see- I've just seemed to have outgrown
- this world.
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 11:24 AM UTC
Never have I ever,
Felt so free from loss and grief,
I dignify this endeavor,
I'm so far beyond relief.
A wind that carries me away,
From emotional ************
I can't quite find words to say,
How I've grown from exaggeration.
Growing old is a form of art,
A marvel crafted from that we evolve,
I grasp onto this change as I depart,
A new problem I have yet to solve.
Extraterrestrial feelings spark wisdom,
An epiphany driving an Eldorado,
Leaving me vulnerable to aphorism,
In a mirror I sport a healthy bravado.
Waking up from nightmares,
Crafted by the hands of me and I,
Myself is who is left behind,
A new man who lacks the ability to care.
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 3:18 AM UTC
Bare, the green
Empty of people
Of life
But for one lone wanderer
People in the park
Fifty feet away
Do they wonder
Or believe they know
Why they're here
Or where they go
In the distance, I can see
A church steeple
That fountain of lies
They claim to know
The how's and why's
Of our existence
Of our strife
It is but an ******
To dull existential ache
To those who are not fooled
It has a bitter taste
Still, the grass is vacant
My hands, they shake
I used to stand up in high places
And fancy, I could see
The whole world, see everything
Stretching out in front of me
I am older now, and not so misty eyed
I see but a placeholder
A thing waiting to die
The tiny ant does not worry
Or count it's passing days
I think that our intelligence, has harmed us in some ways
We know too little, think too much
Try to mark the nothingness
To scratch, to scar
The endless void
We claw, and clutch
At meaning, purpose
These frail, ghostly things
Spectre of a ghost
Shadow of a shadow
These things, they die with us
There is no Eldorado
This is all I know
Jul 13, 2017
Jul 13, 2017 at 6:07 AM UTC
he got his skin when the milky way
spilled over
and he cried when a pair of stars
shot into his eyes
his heart's the only treasure that survived
from eldorado
he's got sunshine wrapped all around his fingers
and the moonlight, it was made
for him to braid in his hair
but his beauty's just the tip of the iceberg
he's a glacier with roots that
reach atlantis
but we'd all drown before he'd
ever let us sink that far
and he may very well be the last
wonder of the world
a secret worth keeping to himself
yes, he may very well be the last
wonder of our world
the sort that's best left
undiscovered
Mar 7, 2018
Mar 7, 2018 at 8:36 PM UTC
Yes, you were right
I hide myself behind metaphors,
floating through unspoken feelings
I celebrate my private happiness solo.
Without judgments and what was meant to be,
I sculpt my own friendly mental space,
reading and writing poems,
I drift into the unbearable lightness of being.
Feb 9, 2025
Feb 9, 2025 at 11:48 AM UTC