"enamorment" poems
Hypnotizing Swirl
The last time I saw you, my mind was an intensified and frigid blast from the polarized north.
I held onto your body and our breath emitted a spiritual corona which enveloped us in love.
We dwelled within a single abode intertwining our illuminated vessels.
Within this shrine resides the sacred enamorment that placed me in a trance…
-A hypnotizing swirl.-
Spirited away, in this moment, I moon the time away awaiting the evolution, the bloom, the metamorphosis, the efflorescence of your quintessence.
Like a delicate orchid of the brightest evergreen stem.
An exuberant and illustrious flower, a symbol of our love, it has intertwined our beings with the seeds of rejuvenation sown into our souls.
Today when I see you, like a broken record in my mind, I am detached.
I am a juggernaut, a sentinel who guards sanity within the confines of an indomitable fortress.
My dream has been nurtured in a pink dreamer’s chest; my treasure is a myriad of aromatic petals sealed away.
Upon this parcel, the benediction of amor has been bestowed.
Moonbeams and iridescent butterflies dwindle upon its rosy and stout exterior.
The Universe’s tears glimmer upon the castle walls housing my fantasy, my tenuous and ethereal hope bound to break at any moment.
-An epiphany can change things you know.-
“How do I know that my beseeching cries shall reach the Transcendental in the Realm of the Tenuous and Divine?”
-Only faith and virtue can allow me to reach the pinnacle of my desires-
To a Shattered and Reassembled Dream.
By, Sanders Maurice Foulke III
Apr 7, 2012
Apr 7, 2012 at 9:03 PM UTC
-Love-
The quintessence of my being ails for the novel; the liberating; the metamorphosing elements of the terrene.
The philosophy of life has always been to search for the sacred truths with the passing of time; tempus.
The answers have been right in front of me.
The concept of finality has been an ailment of my mind; this malady had a paranoia inducing effect on me.
A surfeit of noxious thought can subdue one into nonexistence.
Never, no, rarely should one create a permanent state of tumult within their soul; one must look beyond what they first believe to be true.
-Love-
Without the absolute love, what is one?
The Divine has the Transcendental Power to heal all wounds…
-One must first ask-
The words have been lying here; stewing upon my tongue; awaiting a release for what has seemed to be an eternity.
In my mind the horizon has flashed before my eyes; a vivid vision of the world’s beauty has enraptured me.
Doves gliding off into the sunset; this must be a symbol of all the splendor that lies in store for me.
Enamorment; affinity; affection and all the virtuous elements of humanity have been consolidated in my midst.
They have been compounded before my eyes; a physical form has now been granted.
My heart now has a tangible source for the Elixir of World.
Blinded for but a moment, I departed into an alluring phantasy.
Unsure of where to search for a comrade, I looked to another plane of existence for solace.
There was an explosion of lust for what was once a forbidden dream of the kindest sort.
This dream, it was kind enough to grant me the strength to plow through all the turmoil of a scathing world.
I have given birth to a new feeling; a feeling of hope over the horizon.
How?
By allowing my deepest fears and latent intentions to be cast aside and to fade away into naught.
Earth is a constant melisma of unforeseen occurrence, pain, and heartache but it can also be a beacon for valor, gallant-heartedness, and altruism.
-Delirium is fading away from my consciousness-
My greatest fear has always been to grow and to exceed what I believed to be my true caliber.
Now the day has arrived for me to supersede all trepidation and to transcend the shackles of rigidity.
The storm clouds, they have departed.
The blossoms have begun to bud amongst the tightly packed soil of the terrene.
The sun has arisen from a nocturne of anticipation; this has effloresced into the genesis of a new dawn.
I have emerged from my cocoon and now the world seems so brand new to me.
I am prepared to soar high above the clouds.
I am a dove.
The horizon is mine for the taking.
I am a symbol of love.
From now, until the end of time,
Iridescently Efflorescent.
Jul 28, 2012
Jul 28, 2012 at 11:35 PM UTC
“Do you know?”
“How will…”
“If the pain in my heart effloresces into something greater than this, what shall I become?”
“Never in my life have I gazed upon a countenance as beauteous as the one in your possession.”
“A parcel of pure magnetism is what the Lord of the Divine has bestowed upon me.”
“The stars in their dainty iridescence have blessed us and the thoughts of your love in my heart light up the darkest night in a big bang of enamorment and soul.”
“Time has not forgotten my wish, to be intertwined with the soul of another.”
“Do you see me?”
“I see you?”
The moons benevolent smile has given me the hope to search for a scarred heart buried beneath the tumult of ebony skies.
Love is not cliché and redundant in a heart that has wished for it since the beginning, the genesis of the very Universe.
The Phoenix shall inspire a metamorphosis within the confines of my soul as time unleashes the benediction of my faithful rewards.
In that day, I shall gaze upon your face once more and no longer will a diseased juggernaut guard something which is slowly waning, slowly diminishing within my spirit and soul.
A lightning bolt shall crack the ground beneath us and as we fall farther and farther into the Earth, there shall be a treasure in store for us in the core of the terrene.
Love has become an emboldening and yet abstract concept to me, so many forms, so many ambiguous faces to go along with it.
“Who will it be this time?”
“I don’t understand you but I know deep down inside there is a shining star that shall bloom like a vivid sanguine rose and it’s warding thorns shall beckon a new dawn.”
They will combat the darkness inside of you like a deep wound.
-Tears shall overwhelm you but the change must come.-
By, Iridescently Efflorescent
Apr 26, 2012
Apr 26, 2012 at 9:27 PM UTC
Hopeless endeavour.
The desecration of vitality,
Melancholy entices the pond of hope, repelling golden shimmering.
Infernal tendrils bringing insight to carress in snide
Dug its sharp elongated thorns inside, mending its stride
Gently encompass its roots around the mask,
The concrete veil that shone brightly in false atonement.
Expulsion from the realm of gold, sent astray for an eternity;
Such naïve, brazen happiness, ignorant of the caveats
The mere playground of unbridled mania quarantined.
Faux manifestations of an illusory smile,
For the horizon cast mere wisps of blight,
Rejecting heartbeat of rays gone awry.
They smirk as they watch you flee.
Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 11:08 AM UTC
Do they create a melody?
Such monotony in the duplicates of delirium
A charade that tainted the soul of creators,
As many they inspired;
Blissfully they clasped the canvas,
Embracing traces of putrid ink stains.
Covering with scarlet paint amongst the burnt umber,
Repressing sentiments of enamorment,
Fingers clamped, quill in hand.
The master found itself overwhelmed
By the cacophony of brush strokes.
Deafening tones puncturing, the bespoke rhythms of droplets
Desecrating the workplace.
A heavy haven, hove from heaven,
Fragments of brittle stories
In its somber glory;
Teetered, tattered rags, rig the template
Spread out in callous allegory.
Amongst gardens of ebony, ivory, mahony
The sonorous cask speaking in gibberish atony.
Do they play that lustrous sound?
Review the mouth of the cunning vertebrae,
The effigies of landscapes.
Abstractions of words clad the canvas
In amorphous blobs, strung strings
Of thin inked lines piled amongst the bars.
A quintuplet of harmony barring noise
The resonance of the feather carressing the leaves.
So forth, the master drew his last stroke
The composer's œuvre of bleeding, soundless words
The chords of compromise between creasing,
Heaping canvases,
On hope of the sleeping crowds
To reverberate its symphony once more.
Dec 27, 2017
Dec 27, 2017 at 10:00 AM UTC