"falsettos" poems
A contortionist achieves ******
Her ******** saluting her lips
From within an envelope of pleasure
Causing local beatitude
Though one may query such enthusiasm
Her ******** cooing mollifying concert
Waltzing against the hips of autumn temptation
That she was vibrant
Or that she was barren
Or that in artistry
This plausible microsecond
The happening of dawn quite imminent
And a canary perched upon a fence
Lavish us with falsettos
Each and every organism throughout the universe
Itself just below its conception
And love equalizes the balance
Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 10:52 PM UTC
hard-wood rocking-horse
between thighs of porcelain white.
sweat drips, rhythmic oscillation
of bones that ferrociously grind.
salty, soft, sweet-wine lips;
heavy, humid, breath of steam.
closed-eyes search for surrender,
and signs of admitted defeat.
hymns of pleasure-ridden-falsettos echo;
eruptive moans reverberate in diaphragms;
trapped in throats, restricted groans
fight their way out of closed mouths.
tearing through flesh
arrows find their targets:
bombarded zones left unguarded
are continually pillaged without regret.
hard-wood rocking-horse
still ****** between thighs
of ruined statues of goddesses
made of porcelain, so white.
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 4:26 PM UTC
Sing me a song.
Sing of days of folly.
Sing it sad...
Sing it as it is.
Sing its story.
Extend each syllable
into mournful vibratos.
Drown the
crests of choruses
with wrenching falsettos.
*Let it be soft...
But sharp as a knife is keen.
Let it reach into my chest.
And grab at the lull in between.*
So sing me a song.
Sing to me how I failed.
Serve me my sadness.
Sing to me...
My tale.
Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 6:31 AM UTC
[ Poet’s Note : This is the second of two poems personifying Truth ]
NATURE OF TRUTH : Part Two
Truth shot point blank through
the centre of her forehead
blood spurting, soiling fine furs of
humanoids at play with slick lies
and shallow Hansard words
trying to acupuncture Truth
Blood that stains and weeps and
weeps
blood that runs and will not hide
Truth collapsing in a heap in a corner
rise up again !
pulled firmly by the hair with wide
open fingers
Truth rise and rise and rise
dance with Courage
find amethysts in hard hearts of fear
cradle them to Moon for blessing
connect with fluffy clouds where little
girls see God
Truth ! be washed by midnight rain
plait yourself softly with invisible links
where choralists sing falsettos in
unbroken voices
Truth then waltzes with Love
women with baby curls taste
hot bread
Truth springs up again and again
She rises from oceans and
mountains forever and ever
Right here !
©GhairoDanielsPoetryandSong1990
Sep 9, 2025
Sep 9, 2025 at 6:23 AM UTC
It must be the music talking,
but i think I'm falling in love with you
I think its the way the falsettos got me swinging
the way the altos got me singing
I cant help but fall in love with you
The soprano told me about you
With it's sweet scandalous tune
Then the bass caught wind
hummed a few bars ,and told me your name
And I guess the band heard too,
Must've whispered to you
Because the harmonies playing my head
trying to convince me, your falling in love with me too.
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 1:50 AM UTC
Voiceless rhythms bounce and drop
slip, slide across marble tops
and under chairs, churning in the ash
of charred cigarettes
collapsed but still remain.
Shake the dust down
stale dingy stairwells cracking at the seams
with ripped rust rushing through trembling veins
in shallow skin of lace and waste
sour to the taste.
Falsettos a flailing feather
fanning her fed neck and
across the cheek, blooming
below beaming eyes and brushed red lips
cascading smoke dribbles from the nose.
Limp, lifeless, low
tremors fade atop a sleeping stage
stolen from absorbing orbs, an amber-orange glow
spinning specks of reflecting abyss
paling the pock-marked moon
lune, dune, soon awoken
swept away to somewhere new.
Dec 25, 2011
Dec 25, 2011 at 9:29 PM UTC
Fractured melodies distorting my view
Of that once blissful Augenblick of me and you
Crumbling arias began slipping through
Those once solid walls that I've let shelter so few
These dizzying rhythms that still seem brand new
Keep pulsing like blood, both red and deep blue
Nerve wrecking crescendos swelled as it grew
And like my dead spirit in warmer winds flew
Harmonics with depth shimmer like dew
That lingered that morning like some stagnant clue
Falsettos faltered and tried to stay true
Hoping to remind me of things I once knew
Those things I once knew....
That thing I once knew...
Not fact but not fiction...just simply you...
Sep 23, 2011
Sep 23, 2011 at 6:23 PM UTC
(In Honour of Prof. Buchi Emecheta)
For the joy of consciousness
I read you countless
I smelt your grievance
I felt your episodes
Scenes and synopsis
you took from the stages to the pages.
Sussed from a bitter side of womanhood
A world growing wild like tendrils
To be or not to be;
Africa must have been accursed
Smuggled through the ditch of venoms
by her neighbours.
The voice of the voiceless second-class citizens
Ọnyèbụchi Emèchetá
..You lit a candle
In the dark room of dejection and whispers
..You broke the silence and spoke loudly;
that even the heavens could hear you.
To the ring that betrays the fist
..the sheep that bleeds by the sword of its shepherd
To the dreams that were murdered in cold-blood
The falsettos that misrepresent womanhood
..and the narratives that quells Africanism
You spoke!!!
© A. O. Nwulia Literary Diary 2017
Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 3:22 AM UTC
You're the truth I'm always wanting to keep.
Oct 23, 2019
Oct 23, 2019 at 4:47 PM UTC
Storms live in the attic
They roll round on the wide brass bed and
Tussle beneath the eaves where
Wintry starlings sing in arabesque falsettos
and the quilts are all sewn by hand
Lily is mistress of this place
She bathes in thunder while the bluebells ring
Her lover watches, dumbstruck
all he knows is the air shimmers around her
And the sky vibrates in her eyes
Lily loves her lover only
Spurning pretenders and naysaying Minotaurs
Trusting his carnation smile, she
Wears tomorrow’s clothes, defiantly penniless
Wallowing in Omelettes and pillows
Lily paints her lips with rainbows
While her lover stretches out his canvas homage
falling deeper in love, felled
By the curve of her breast in the moonlight
And the way her hips roll as she walks
And if he’s her Halfpenny Prince
She’s his Sixpence no richer Princess...
Kestrels fly round the parlour,
Ravenous, but
They dine on eclairs in the boudoir
And never go hungry
Rain fills their silver violins
Music flows from his fingertips to her spine
Shambolic evening invocations
Paint the walls as they revel in their adagios
Soaring past counterfeit barriers
Lily never overthinks her loving
Mystics and gypsies roam free in her veins
Her blood becomes his, intrinsically
Intertwined in their colourful progression
Sad yesterdays die Long Ago
Everything changes at midnight
Lily courts her twixt times metamorphoses
Slinky rhythms catch her feet
Waterfalls pour from her arms as she dances
Her lover captures her with a last breath
Glazes her flesh with his lips
In the eaves dervish doves swirl in arcs of fright
In the garden of night tendrils unfurl
Their Fate touches the stone Angels Of Sorrow
From pitted mouths of pity they sigh
Lily is mistress of this place
She wakes alone in her wide brass bed, while
Crying birds sing to her in sympathy
And Summer weeps for her morning disillusion...
her threadbare reveries fall away
He is gone, he is gone, he is gone
He was her Halfpenny Prince
She his Sixpence no richer Princess...
Lily’s heart flies round the parlour,
Mourning,
Now she eats the bread of Memories
Lily never goes hungry
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 5:29 AM UTC
You told me you still loved him-
after everything he did to you
And i wanted to scream and cry
because that is absolutely insane
And hold you because i know it's hard
To let go of everything holding you down
And how easy it is to surrender to sadness
please, i don't want to see you drown
In depression and *** and falsettos
Of love.
But please baby.
I may not be able to hold you like he did
And i cant kiss away your demons
But i am here
And i love you.
Let me in and i swear, i will give you everything
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 5:47 PM UTC
Like faucets
Words stream
In falsettos
Voices scream
Mar 13, 2019
Mar 13, 2019 at 12:50 AM UTC