"enthralls" poems
O MY LOVE, COME WITH ME,
LET’S CLIMB THE MANGO TREE,
ITS GOLDEN FRUITS ARE RIPE,
FULL OF SWEET MEMORY,
LET ME LIFT YOU GENTLY,
TILL YOUR HANDS GET A HOLD,
THIS WARM ZEPHYR HAS MADE ME,
SO STRONG AND SO BOLD,
LET US CLIMB WITHOUT SCRATCHING
YOUR FLAWLESS IVORY SKIN,
MY LOVE WILL GUIDE YOU THROUGH
BRANCHES THICK AND THIN,
YOUR RAVEN HAIR CASCADING ON
TO YOUR NECK SO SLENDER,
SHINY NEW LEAVES OF THE MANGO,
SO DELICATE, AND SO TENDER,
SIT CLOSE TO ME ON A LOFTY BRANCH
TO HEAR THE SOULFUL KOEL SING,
LET'S SWAY WITH THE BREEZE
LIKE SOULS ON A SILKEN STRING,
MY HEAD ON YOUR SHOULDER
YOUR LOVELY FACE SO CLOSE,
SUN BEAMS DANCE ON YOUR LASHES
MY PRECIOUS VELVET ROSE,
YOUR FRAIL HANDS ENCIRCLE ME
LIKE CREEPERS HUGGING THE BOUGH,
YOUR WARM EMBRACE ENTHRALLS ME
TO KISS YOUR SHAPELY BROW,
YOUR SWEET FRAGRANCE INTOXICATES
AND AMONG THE CLOUDS I FLOAT,
LIKE A BUTTERFLY EMERGING FROM
A CATERPILLAR’S UGLY COAT,
WE SIT THERE FOR A LONG TIME
SUSPENDED IN SPACE,
I AM BUT A CONTENT SLAVE
TO YOUR HEAVENLY GRACE
LET MY LIPS LINGER ON
YOUR SOFT PETALS SOME MORE,
TILL I ETCH IN MY MIND,
EVERY BIT OF YOU TO THE CORE,
OH MANGO TREE WE NESTLE
IN YOUR MASSIVE ARMS,
LOST IN THE MYRIAD MISTS
OF ONE ANOTHERS CHARMS,
WHEN OUR YEARS ARE GONE ONE DAY
WHEN WE ARE AGED AND SPENT,
UNDER THIS GREAT MANGO TREE,
WE SHALL PITCH OUR FINAL TENT,
UNDER ITS VAST CANOPY WE SHALL LIE
LOOKING AT THE STARS,
OUR BONY FINGERS ACHING YET
TENDING TO OUR SCARS,
MY MIND’S EYE SEES YOUR WRINKLED FACE
SMOOTH WITH AN INNER GLOW,
SOFT AND BEAUTIFUL AS EVER IT WAS,
AND YOUR LOVELY DARK HAIR FLOW
YOUR FLESH AGAINST MINE
FEELS JUST AS YOUNG AND WARM,
OUR HEART BEATS MERGE
LIKE BEES FLYING IN THE SWARM
COLD TOMBS ARE NOT FOR US
NEITHER MARBLE NOR GRANITE,
UNDER THE LIVING MANGO TREE
FOREVER WE SHALL UNITE
OH MY LOVE, COME WITH ME,
LET’S CLIMB THE MANGO TREE,
YOU ARE LIKE ITS GOLDEN FRUIT,
AND FOREVER YOU WILL BE.
Dec 26, 2011
Dec 26, 2011 at 2:29 AM UTC
Speed enthralls us all sometimes,
Enjoying the risk whilst we risk our lives,
Faster and faster down the road we go,
Not worrying about getting home,
On our bikes, in our cars,
Pressing the accelerator so we can go fast,
Not wondering about using the brake,
Who cares about the risk we take,
It happens to us once in our lives,
Speed enthralls us all sometimes.
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 11:38 AM UTC
Seek solace in solitude
There’s a world of silence
Mirrors the inner beauty
A reflective mind ponders
Enwrapped in the echoes
The mantra of eternal truth
Soul elevated to a stage
Sweet harmony of realization
Hymns of pure ecstasy
Pours through the ears as honey
Sweetening the existence
Shimmering light is kindled
An unusual radiance enthralls
Meanings of life deciphered
Gifted with moments of bliss
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 7:57 AM UTC
What has become of us
Amidst the hustle and bustle of city life
When did evolution condone us to regress into a state
Of uncalculated caucus
As we meander our way through the rapids of life
Rapid
Is hardly a best-fit descriptor
For we are past the point of speed
We mill around like headless horses
Buzzing bees
Stinging roaches
Fallen leaves
Roaring lions
Try to lead
But fail
Like cottons fighting breeze
Is this all we are?
Is this what we were made for?
To quickly climb the climb
And await the graceless fall
Parachutes prepared for praise
But our pride prevents and prevails
Till the day I climb the ladder
Shall I not attempt to see
What the view at the top might be like
I fear it enthralls me
But then reality strikes like a maddening blaze
And suddenly I see
That I'm well on my way up the hill
As I swing from bridge to bridge
Is this the way to live?
Uncautious steps with kleptomaniac ease
As we take what we desire
From our capitalistic divider
Though we hate to be the same
Not at all do we differ
Are we not all blinded mice
With a tetra-human vice
Spiders apt at spinning lies
Banking life on Friday highs
All around me boring beasts
Lost to whims, to say the least
What I fear most is the day
I give in and join the race
Is the day I eat my heart out
Just to enjoy the highest gaze
Till then here trapped in the zoo
Enclosure encasing truth
Finding fault with every human till the day I conform too
Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 8:12 AM UTC
This is the story of a man
The story of a brilliant man
Most men would call him a resilient man
A man of principle and logic
A man who’s principles may defy logic
A man from whom come words with magic
And illusion
The illusion is the man
The illusion is a brilliant man
The illusion would make him appear a resilient man
The illusion of principle and logic
The illusion of principles that appear to defy logic
The illusion is this ‘brilliant man’s’ magic
And deceit
This deceit that is the illusion of the man
This deceit that is the illusion of the man’s brilliance
Of his resilience
Of his principle
Of his logic
The deceit of his principles that apparently defy all levels of logic… that seem to be a notch above our regular reasoning
The deceit of his oratory magic that enthralls us all
Day in, day out
Season out, season in
You know who I’m talking about…
That politician that fooled us for too long, and very soon, will be on his way out.
Oct 5, 2012
Oct 5, 2012 at 8:23 AM UTC
warm, bright words don't reside in your heart.
an ice wall blocks the way as they depart.
a shy, humble smile, "oh, it's no big deal,"
and those words are suddenly forced to kneel.
the icicles ***** your weary shoulders,
forming gashes, leaving you so much colder.
too much warmth? you burst into flames.
too little? you're frozen and maimed.
your hands, scarred and worn,
rub in vain, ready to mourn
as you look over the wall
to stare at the glow that enthralls.
Aug 13, 2021
Aug 13, 2021 at 8:46 PM UTC
Love is like a waterfall,
it unexpectedly enthralls.
It's always flowing, always falling,
always crashing, always calming. . .
Apr 7, 2010
Apr 7, 2010 at 10:15 PM UTC
<>
Eye Liner
Her only adornment
as she dances
entrances
throws glances.
<>
Eye contact
Her one flirtation
as she sways
displays
shyly plays.
<>
Eye catching
Her unique attraction
as she calls
enthralls
gently falls.
<><><>
© Pagan Paul (15/07/16)
Sep 8, 2016
Sep 8, 2016 at 5:31 AM UTC
it is beautiful
it is majestic
and it is guileful
and is eccentric
a speck on the tower of wall
that bridges and connects
two different enthralls
even fate dare not object
i was on its foot,
for i sought to grasp
and tried to peek
on the place it leads
i listen to the jarring echoes
the other side is full; a chaos
it seems, but i felt solace
in its mournful yet soulful melody
i heard words that are familiar
those that i chose to blur
in my being for a long strife
that i dwell to keep inside in an eternity
i ought to release the beautiful words
that is long chained
i long to feel the majestic emptiness
and sense the other side that is zestful
and clutch onto its empathetic possibilities
only if it bridges to a multitude,
only if perspective it will connect,
only if it is not unchained,
only if it is opened.
Aug 16, 2022
Aug 16, 2022 at 7:17 PM UTC
I exist in the abysmal state of solitude, where I, whose existence survives in profound literary pieces, could fall short of mere words penetrated—cast against me. Where would I be if I can't find the right words to say?
In front of me is a sweet orange juice menacingly teasing me with its dazzling pumpkin hue. Beside it is the apple pie I swore my life I would never put in my mouth. Yet, the sun glistened brighter when I gently put my fork down and absurdly ate it with my eyes closed.
The sadness that lingers deep within enthralls me more, as I swiftly swallow and digest it without tasting all its flavors—just so I can return to reality. I try to keep it all together, even as my spirit is crushed by the thoughts that seep in, nipping at the edges of my soul—through the cracked window of my vision, and the half-drunk orange juice. These thoughts keep coming in, like an intense downpour after a shower. I have tried to write this simply, yet I could never find the right words to say.
I could never forgive myself.
Feb 7, 2025
Feb 7, 2025 at 11:57 AM UTC
I tip my hat to the Poetess,
the Word Witch whose spin enthralls,
with language arranged in patterns,
and verse that often calls.
Her art is to conjure images,
the Sorceress whose quill entrances,
with phrase beautiful in texture,
and a word that often dances.
Her creations are her offspring,
the High Priestess whose rhymes capture,
with stanza's keen in construction,
and meanings that evoke pure rapture.
© Pagan Paul (24/07/16)
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 3:32 AM UTC
We burn together, but with separate hues
Our flames flick and dance around the wick
Tips touch and mingle
And on occasion consume,
This wax that binds me,
That keeps me here, away from you.
The tears of knowledge weep thick and slow
From a time when what once thought was true,
Now is not.
Yet, your light enthralls me
It keeps me near.
A dragonfly glimmer, a shimmering morning dew.
Here we learn together, fervent flame ensue
Distant and close, not wicks but curtains
That can't be tamed;
Two bonfires in the night, birthing strifeful embers
Striking without cause or claim
Inflame all that behold us for a love unchained.
Your shared endeavors are not mine to keep
For elsewhere two little torches,
Kindred lanterns in which you keep a light
So bright, yet from me so far and dim
That to behold them myself would be a match
At the base of a tree.
But still for you that fire burns,
With it billows of smoke carve curvatures
Over mountains, which to me unseen,
Smoldering luster, an unwelcome glean.
Then the time comes, and with the soft spoken smoke
you whisper of a desired hue,
which you wish to have bound wick and wax
A dream within which she is there
and I
Outside of you.
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 3:03 AM UTC
Tears of creation
fall from the overcast blanketing
of the billowy, white fields overhead,
blended with a requiem
that only the absence of dawn could manifest,
and kissed upon
by the ever-fluorescent canvases
of smoke, and flame
that carelessly intrude
upon the horizon.
Oh,
how fastidious is the misting
that blesses this premature day,
invoking a spontaneity
within the mundane clockworkings
that symbolically define
the average,
the everyday
and the norm.
Glorious is this sight to behold.
Not only by our soulpanes,
but through the remainder;
our entire spectrum of sensory awareness
that we are so gifted to have received,
yet,
rarely do their values go little more
than depreciated.
The refreshment
that quenches our starving skin,
and slowly enfilms us
with the caressings of unrequited purity.
The dampening of the air
that perpetually enthralls
even the most tolerant
resisters to aroma.
The crispness;
unadulterated,
and without perversions of the modern day;
enrapturous are the resonant entrails of the strata
that ever so gently envelop,
and awaken our slumbering buds.
And finally,
but without conviction,
the resound of symphonic harmony,
abound with the alluring enchantment
that,
in seamless refrain,
could only be achieved
by such a reverent miracle of nature.
These are the moments in which I revel.
And blessed be Her,
who benevolently grants us
with such an immaculance
of cornerless beauty.
Graceful, and sacred is the oasis in the sky.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 6:52 PM UTC
English tea and scones with cream.
A cigarette dangles from his lips. The blonde-haired girl watches as the smoke rises. Between them a newspaper sits upon the table.
They have stopped to peruse their purchases:
The Bletchley code-breaker story always enthralls, and John Lennon never grows old.
Smoke rings continue to rise, eventually to fade away .
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 12:00 PM UTC
Magnets;
lock and key;
and, the unsubtle,
bolt
and *****
These are things that collide harmoniously and do not dispute
We are not such an archaic, mechanized metaphorical construct.
I feel us as primal,
torrid decadence;
a deliberate impassioned vulnerability:
an animalistic exposé.
Unfocused, infinite black holes
expanding
to be lost within
Quivering circle of solicitous, engorged fuchsia
steaming harsh,
needy
attempts of oxygen recovery
Soft powder snow
melting over olive tree trunks,
quaking with endless echoes resonating from beyond the hills above
A thunderous harbinger centers chaos,
rampaging gust-like vibration through taut roots,
a volcanic eruption.
Lava geyser
blazing till all energy
enthralls the earth.
What I see for us is a metaphor in nature.
I will be the seismic activity
and you
will dance above me.
Your world will collapse against me
in my relentless motions.
And when you stand again,
I will bring you to
your knees
in my aftershock
and show you strength that will move you mountains.
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 2:27 AM UTC
The softest light of the moon melts into our hearts
Bending them into remembered meaning
Softly calling us back, so we can stand apart
Passing into our spirits’ open doors
The essence of its being
We hold this light, clasped within our hearts embrace
In an everlasting picture we can recall
When the sun begins its journey upon our face
The softest light of the moon
Our soul enthralls
When we walk within our day on a troubling course
The softest light of the moon remains
Quietly calling our spirits back to reinforce
An endless light into our view
We can easily obtain
Should we happen to find that it’s dark overhead
The light of the moon has disappeared
If we will quietly look into our hearts instead
Our souls will find the softest light
Is still right there
Jan 8, 2011
Jan 8, 2011 at 6:16 PM UTC
The Girl from Coronado
Dark brown eyes the brownest hair the most captivating was the faraway look in her eyes the painter
Searches for her in lost dreams she materializes on the sharp trumpet blast then she lingers as it turns
Softly as the street in front of the Saint Louis cathedral in New Orleans she was as wistful she was the
Bleeding torment held in battle field shadows her way had the razor sharp that cut through pretense to
The real the meaningful what was that certain something that held you in awe was it the southern sea
Breeze that was absorbed the enfolding touches that were exuded from her depths there are still
Waters then there is Gloria is it fondly promised like flowers floating on the tide the sweet smile that
Cuts and divides the waves like a surfer coming out of the Banji pipeline her brown hair blows softly it
Has enlightened on the breeze as fragrance unspoiled unidentifiable it enthralls as she walks the sandy
Sea swept beach in the distance she passes as a spirit cast improperly in a human role to disturbing to
Fetching she makes appearances in Celtic dreams of misfortune she brings trouble as a winged wonders
Those that are not for evil but hidden in them are clandestine secrets that open new corridors of
Simplicity that brim with honor they are the culminations of promises long deferred now they are at
The door to restore she possesses powers that are seemingly strange but they are beholding the
Glimpses she allows trigger eager disruptions the common falls before her gaze you find establishments
That seemed impossible could she be Isis presumably not but just bearer of her traits one who gives gifts
Of the natural world to artisans from normal items joy is in them as fluid emotions they suppress but
Only for the pure cause of making greater results occur the tiresome is abolished the clay is gold even
Though it be hidden from many to the few it is cherished sought and redeemed by love in a sea side
Town on the southern coast of California her alluring beauty you too can possess this just open yourself
seek the opportunity to give to others your name will be favorably spoken like the graceful girl from
Coronado
May 12, 2012
May 12, 2012 at 3:00 PM UTC
-
we live and die
within a box
with data
at all angles
in an age
where innocence
is compacted
to rectangles
here we see
the wizardry
of Bill Gates in
his valley
the children with
their pinwheel eyes
texting Steve or Sally
around the house
the computer mouse
enthralls another tyke
instantly their Facebook
has another "like"
blood and gore
are commonplace
the victims have no names
what the heck
do you expect?
it is all a
game
they will thus
ENTRAP YOU
you'll do as they bid
for your pleasure
I'll announce
The Wizards of the Id
SoulSurvivor
(C) 6/5/2016
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 3:01 AM UTC
i am no Stranger to Fear
that which adhere's
to Love,
as if in Disguise
it Preys,
wait's till the Weak
lags behind.
then through courage Seeks,
and easily finds.
Love is everywhere,
flowing around,
matching the Frequencies
our Emotions' sound.
Meaning:
all forms of Expression,
Reaction, and
Passion can be,
in me
i have found
no solid ground.
always Floating,
Flying, and
Dreaming.
Imagination creating
a most serene setting
i fall into Believing.
Deceiving it is.
so i easily give in.
Temptation of Escape,
the comfort holds my hand
to guide me through the land
of possible Truth,
but Fear becomes out of Doubt
and overpowers.
Trust,
Communication,
and Understanding,
can not be
shared by one whom invites,
welcomes,
embodies,
Fear.
when one weight falls,
the Balance enthralls
Chaos into Dimension.
Nothing is the same,
it's all Abstract.
the lashings and arguments quickly Attack.
his Desire for me was Selfishly shown
through the Monuments built on our Love's Tomb.
no longer Love,
but Want,
kept his Soul aflame.
to keep what was his right to Tame.
my Fire Inside.
i could not walk,
stand,
or crawl.
i knew he Loved me,
and that was All.
but this was not Love.
this was Secret and a Blind
transformation to quick to be seen
by me or Time.
..or was it there all along,
waiting to come out and play his melancholy song?
this body,
his Vessel,
was a host of Confusion.
as if maid Mary to Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde,
it took all my Energy to Try,
but Why?
i Loved him,
but it was no longer Him in control,
Madness had finally taken it's toll.
"throw me under a bridge," last words of a troll.
Sorry my Man,
my Lover,
my Friend,
seems Fear got the best of You
in the End.
go down with the ship,
i'd rather not,
my Mind is too Free to be Caught.
i did not give up,
i did not run.
I simply did what had to be done
Body and Soul lay peacefully as one.
my Fear of You
is finally gone.
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 8:49 PM UTC
hundreds of years
from generations, transcending
always below, never equal
under white-washed pavements
dried fragile bones
hollow skulls and locked jaws
unremembered and unloved
under white-washed pavements
lost with tied hands
stuck, bound to the land
because of the unlucky man
under white-washed pavements
she scratches the walls
in vain for air and a bed of flowers
shackled to bed -- always restless
under white-washed pavements
breathless, caught in his hands
the contrast, it enthralls
no choice but to obey
under white-washed pavements
she screams in empty pillow cases
his favorite song to hear --
her song of desperate hope resounds
under white-washed pavements
Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 12:08 AM UTC
A state for Her, a State in need;
A Lady in good state, indeed?
She attempts to make Herself appear
To Us All, both far and near,
A beauty One in all Our eyes
While in Her own are only lies.
Her outer Self is a fraud;
Her inner One perfect and broad;
One much needed to enlighten
The weaker Ones whom She may frighten
With Her depth, Her sense, Her honesty,
But lacks our ideas of 'true beauty'.
The foolish Man, also conditioned,
Accepts this fallacy petitioned
That "A pretty Lady, a pretty sight,
Is the only kind to make a wife."
An object in its simplest sense,
She appears, made by the dense.
But in Her eyes, while wisdom fills,
Her shock enthralls, Her passion thrills.
And through it all She may plead
A message in much desperate need:
“Forget the glitz; it’s all a waste.
Forget the glamour; it’s all a state.”
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 2:38 PM UTC
I watch him; beneath veiled stare,
calming his visible quivers; as he
masks desire in slow breaths,
lips tremble beggary evident with
tease
tongue flicks awaiting a scintilla of
moisture; I squirm in anticipation,
he's on his knees, eyes light up with
devourment
ache arises with heat of yearn; tongue
brushes skin; teeth nibble and breath
quickens snaring me within ecstasies
storm
captured within his gaze, one finger
slowly outlines lips as hand travels length
of thigh slowly enticing, hornily inviting as
muskiness enthralls
and...
I become addicted to his slow teasing;
every curve finger lollygags easing them
one at a time in creamy deluge; to mouth
I bring them tasting me
frenzied...
screaming his name as tip of tongue finds
my ache begging for release; lust filled
moans escape, arching against his
throb; rising hips, meeting each ******
piercing...
deeper, letting him in; riding his rhythm;
ignited in his burn, drawn into sweet
ecstasy
surrendering...
in slow motion...
loved profoundly...
watching him sultrily...
hunger no longer veiled...
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 2:33 PM UTC
Undressed by window,
Her body enthralls the moon,
. . . I am left blinded.
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 7:20 PM UTC
Slumbering sunlight clambers through
The window in the morning,
Casting a perfect silhouette of a smiling you
On my half awake eyes.
A faint whiff of last night
In the recesses of your eyes
Enthralls me just as I try in vain
To wake up from heaven with you.
The caffeinated aroma of a kiss
Dyes the fabric of the day
As the smoke of my dreams recede
Into beautiful nothingness.
With a playful smile and
A flick of your hips, you help me
Get through the day, safe in the knowledge
That you'll be there when darkness comes.
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 11:52 PM UTC