"embroided" poems
The church bells chime,
Suddenly the door flew open,
There came my gorgeous bride,
In an embroided white dress,
A veil on her face,
Red lipstick on,
She walks down the aisle,
Her father gives me her hand and leaves,
The reverand speaks a few verses,
But when we share our vows,
I was so stocked and there was so much I could've said,
But I had to stop myself.
I thank God that you came in my life,
You are my angel,
That sparkled my life.
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 11:36 AM UTC
*The last firebird flied
over her as she stood
on the last crumbling
mountain.
Prickley pine trees
shivering above the dew,
the first breath of the
winter in her soul was
icing through the flowers.
She fleed the Golden-emerald
city, heart broken by the
gong of war.
Sinking her nails deep into
the ground.
Sheding tears of a dragon
from the crystal eyes
of the universe.
Falling down
her porcelain face.
A work of art.
Her lips red,to seem like
cherries in the spring.
Casting a glance at the pale moon
while the wild wind was
howling to the north.
Ruler of the skies
as the morning stars sang together,
looking different today.
In the shadows of her lace fan,
the silky blossom on the
kimono dress.
Embroided with the silver thread
of moonlight, encrusted with
the diamonds of night.
The great ocean waves can't destroy
her purple throne.
Although left all alone, she will
never surrendor.
The obediance will suffocate
from her light, rising like the sun
after the dusk once again.
Because she is... the Empress*
Aug 13, 2016
Aug 13, 2016 at 2:24 PM UTC
Your pink silky touch makes my body go through seizures.
My veins are homeless, smothered in poverty and have been craving for soul food.
Im in a cacoon. My peace sign fingers in between my flower are working overtime,pumping and extracting the pollen of satisfaction.
It drips all over your white sheets. An eye of feasting awaits.
The movement of our soul connection is stoccatto. A two second breathing and rest from the uphill journey must occur.
Like a paint brush,your lips paint your intense emotions on my body. An abstract piece of art is what i reflect and look like.
You broke the cacoon.
Freed the catapillar of distruction and void.
The butterfly roams around in delight and euphoria.
My flower is embroided with your aura, little stitches of love threads hang down my thighs.
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 6:07 PM UTC
To talk from a mouth that one does not recognize
No sound to be made from mammoths that lay dead
Frozen
Trading tokens
Wishing to God they'd made it
Just to see another day
The glory of the light is bright
Blinds many
Confuses millions
The flick of fish fins
Tiny is a world when the catastrophes escaped on waves of brilliant globalism makes ones that have never wept weep tears of experience and surprise and disdain and remorse and sadness and life and happiness and regret and money and love
A number that fits in the eyes of a spreadsheet
Is printed out, given away, thought about and thrown out
These are the hours of blistering heat that will burn the skin of a thousand innocents
While the many that have passed the threshold of human thought
Wish they had never lived this long
A feeling
That is a feeling that only comes once
That is thought and mused about
For the rest of one's life
Turning the makeshift bread that mother made
Hands clasped with never a word said
A debauchery of the common normalcy and currency of mankind
A farewell note to the wishing well of mystery
****** it to the dam, all throughout the land that produced these hands
A situation of uneasiness, invisible in form
Where wrong is translucent and seems incandescent
Beautiful in its magnitude but rotten to the core
Beating like the black heart of the devil that just chose not to fit in
A lonely kid
On a lone cloudy road
With no mother
Or no father to know
Sister said that the bed of the divine would soon be wed
But she fled
For something inside, something hard, a thing tasteless and way away
Made her feet twitch,
Her skin itch,
And her eyes swearing to head to a watery bay
Not a thing known
Nor a thing sworn
A ****** of a metaphor and all the things they swore that'd bring you peace in school
Now makes you sit and in wonder of the feeling of the fool
And the pool
The magnificent embroided embarrassment swirling high
A home away from home
The listless endless womb
Whispering a name that is not known but known
Your bother in a brother
Your mother from a mother
All in a smother of delicate sprinkled lover's
A delicacy of infinity that burns bright, sits tight, talks in tongue, and is only seen in the one's with dangerous and lustful fun
Mar 28, 2011
Mar 28, 2011 at 9:22 PM UTC
A lost in time, forgotten track
colorless, washed out, hollowed rather
meaningless if you were to describe it
used to write all the time, used to dream
in the bus, in bed as well, it has all
said its bitter farewell, oh dearie!
oh my beloved!, spare me of this cruel
misery filled path, I now cross
some sort of emotionless symphony
worthless effort, faded paint
insignificant piece of poetry
a fallen ode to legacies, significance
and memories, all fantasies
dreams, hopes and tales of stargazers
daydreamers and hopeless romantics
have been lead astray, by this
oh this filthy tray of decandence
forsaking a mournful heart
an adulterated soul...
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 8:09 PM UTC
Through my lungs to my heart , smoked you like a volatile joint ,
Your love proposition , holding my impotent life at gunpoint.
As you embroided my life with lacerate scars of pain and deceit,
Which I merely clothed myself hemming my love pleat by pleat .
Stripping me down you flung me like half smoked cigarette ****
That’s when I knew you created that crater deep till my gut
But life is a drama backstaged with chances,
Once again it would rain on you a downpour of judgement,
Then ill be the sky to judge with a turbulent temperament.
I want the thunder to clap in approval and gain ,
The darkness to blanket my self inflicted pain .
But again you breathe I love you into the air …and I melt my life once again before you .. because simply I love you.
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 4:32 AM UTC
The frontiers meet in the flow of time. In the calmness do the fabrics of the realms intertwine. Like a thread of lace, like life, an aesthetic tapestry is woven. The masterpiece intricately crafted, with such a gentle touch.
Though within the weavings, something's revealed. A perfection of symmetry, like a mirror, underlines these expressions. As if like the stones at the base of a river, are these expressions of symmetry the base of this tapestry - a desire etched in.
The gentle craftsman, with a stern yet gentle movement of his hand. As simple as taking a breath, does his work take form. The life within the lace vibrant in expectations, crafting a genesis exerting extravegance.
The tapestry draws nearer to completion, it being embroided into the waters of time. Each strand of fabric, being woven with purpose. Encapsulating the forms in the thought of the master of craft.
A great expression of joy radiates through the craftsman's smile. Engineering such magnificence to a maturity. This tapestry, framed within an everlasting water, an awe-inspiring sight. Radiance fashioned in the glistening of the eyes of the realms.
Apr 4, 2019
Apr 4, 2019 at 8:01 AM UTC
Feel Me,an emotion deep inside your heart,
a meadow's wild white simple daisy,
reincarnated in a soft crimson rose,
a scarlet heart of velvet petals,
birthed in embroided silk of mystique passion.
A bacchus of wine filled with perfumed aroma,
in a vineyard of fragrant thoughts of you.
Feel Me,as i come in your night,a soft gentle wind ,
whisperin through your window,caressin your face,
kissin your cheeks,breathin you in sweetest dreams,
takin you in a garden,to a lake, where swans pirhouette,
as we lie down on a mattress of golden threaded leaves.
Feel Me,as we ride,on the open wings of love and fantasies,
Hold me ,as i get lost in you and you get lost in me,
as you drink the nectar of my cherry red lips,
as we kiss,a moist and warm wet kiss.
Feel Me,in the fresh liquid raindrops,patterin,
cleansing your worries away,as i pat your back,
as we walk in the park,as we talk,as I listen and understand,
as we giggle,holdin hands ,sittin on our favourite wooden bench,
under yesterday's lanternes of hundred dancing fire-flies.
Feel me,as we lay on the sand,gazing in each other's eyes,
cheered by tamed silver waves,watching the stars
Hugging below a universe of black ebony skies.
Feel me,as i dip my brush in finest oils,and paint a path
of coloured rainbows,where we can find each other once again,
a path where we can dream,where we can live and love,
where we will never be apart or scent the absence once again.
Feel me,in the candle burning never ending flames of passion,
a young lady,so deeply in love with you,Can you feel me?
My Beloved,Mon amour,Can you feel the touch of me?
Nov 2, 2010
Nov 2, 2010 at 11:11 PM UTC
My mouth lies
where your lips laid
whispering my pain
to soft brocade
lace edged with tears
and furrowed brow
I wonder who
shares your dreams now
embroided hearts
taste of your kiss
pray tell me how
it came to this
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 9:06 PM UTC
Over the rainbow or somewhere else
A play upon words for my personal thoughts.
Was Kubla Khans ******** a work or a fact? It took Coleridge decades to work that out.
If Kipling thought "When" would it be lesser a work? If would be nothing, there's satire there.
If Poe wrote of seagulls and the Raven was missed, would a dream be a nightmare in his words instead?
So had Yeats not the heavens embroided cloths but instead the curtains from his grandma's cottage, would he have laid them down under her feet? Or wrapped them around her to keep her sweet.
Is there nothing in words that hasn't been said?
Who knows now, who cares I guess.
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 8:21 PM UTC
paint the walls
with mouthfuls of dirt
picnic blanket over
old wounds
tired and frail
calloused and hardened
one, two,
spill the guts and chew the fat
expand out
drip down
an infinity edges empty boundary
horizontal tears
fracture and falter
fill the walls
with embroided words,
(the hail still stings
against severed limbs)
expand out
graft over holes,
tear harrowed folds
one, two,
weightless
a canvas of flesh
lighter
fluid and ash
expand out
float down to the rivers end
go with the flow
loose yourself
among empty surfaces;
eventually
all the leaves in the gutter
coagulate
and homogenise
to mulch
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 7:38 AM UTC
Why......
" Why feelings and thoughts -
of mine are unfeeble,
And with an oft soulful cry!
Never embroided in it's
brinkmanship of A dwelling mirth !.
often wondering of the days that gone by .
Why being an unmindful 'Abu ben Adam '
often I embark on a distinct parody of bliss?
Why my lips quiver,if destination is far cry.
chasing my impounding fleet of wry smiles
and daunting hopes to pursue,
And for a few souls to succor !.
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 2:07 AM UTC
There is a silence
That hides under the table
As we speak.
There is a silence
Hidden between every word
We fail to say.
There is a silence
Embroided in the words
We shouldn't say.
There is a silence
That crashes with every blink
As I cry.
There is a final silence
When you get up and leave.
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 1:30 AM UTC