"feathering" poems
It's like the movie
part of me*
It tells me where I should
go and want to be
**Please note that I will say
Not a dark place
inside my suitcase**
"Robin Red Breasted" suit
Peck and nip and tuck in place
The rainbow iridescent
Suiting her taste wet rain tents
Everyone was Green with envy
**Robin/ Rainbow event lets hear
it for our Army so many
troops**
He was sitting politely
Like a salesman of suitcases
on her stoop
She was mesmerized
Living out of a tour suitcase
She wanted daisies she was
ready for fantasies
Of him in her suitcase
Tumbling through
Another time Postman
Singing birds to ring twice
Birds all in groups
Computer laptops she wanted
to be surprised so mysterious
But ready for love ingenious
He laughed not losing sight
Robin eats like a bird
so hilarious
She packed her sunshine
yellow ribbons
she was ready to feed
Those Brooklyn pigeons
Packed suitcase ready for
the love of God
Going frenzy from her fruit loops
Robin Birdie born traveler scoop
Well nested flying South
fully invested
Rocking her flight cradle
Wherever I go or whatever I do
Traveling packs meet
Mr. Ramen noodles
Getting silly splashing puddles
The Spiritual Zen
traveling boots over a shower
He kissed them high up (Eiffel Tower)
Rome Italy wines in love cahoots
The call I'm ready "Amazon" wild
Let us go, child, another story
But the wildcard fresh air
Oh! Dear
The lightness easy does it
feathering wings the clues fit
Packing my suitcase
Love is a drug of "Europe"
Perfectly fine wine
Always hope with cantaloupe
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 9:41 AM UTC
Shimmer and flow
Wood Lake at sunset seems to emit a soft glow.
Waves like edges move and dip
Feathering out, tumble and flip.
I hear the giggling of happy little girls
Dunking heads underwater and wetting their curls.
Scraggly young boys jump off a long pier
Showing their bravado that they have no fear.
Mallard ducks and tan little birds soar and float.
Passing patient people fishing off docks, or in a boat.
As I watch natures glory a gentle breeze caresses my sleeve.
I am at peace with myself with nothing to grieve.
I am very grateful for the time I spent here.
It gave me the chance to think with a mind that is crystal clear.
I was in my own world relaxing on my inflatable chair
With the sunshine as my companion floating here and there.
This quaint little lakehouse is a Godsend to friends
Who need some time to heal, make changes or amends.
The owners are loving in spirit, generous and kind.
They open their home as a haven for the heart, soul and mind.
Copyright *CindyRenouf @2010
www.stumbleupon.com/stumbler/Cindy1128
Jul 27, 2010
Jul 27, 2010 at 7:32 PM UTC
sand
cherry blossom
vintage clothing
poem
grass...
You Are These, My Love.
like a fairy
is like a dark-eyed Junco, twitter-pated in snowfall apocalypse
like a painter's palette, engrossed in the notion
of gone from me. like chocolate. a sun down
feathering our bed.
like water and thunder
blasting sand
through the blossom
of my cherished -
cherishing.
a
vintage
ache
clothing the naked risk
of my honest poesy.
like the grass roots of joy
fairly gaming the
opaque eye -
of some rara avis-
blinking outside Caravaggio
palette...
a
deep cocoa
of divine waters,
that flood the ludicrous
of your charms
like austerity
is plush
our heart's are vintage clothing
and we must.
what's a metaphor like ? do you simile -
the way I am a valentine ?
or do you
love
me
?
deluge
[ ? ]
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 7:41 PM UTC
An elliptical scent sways and swoons the chamber's floor
As goddesses feathering their summer clothes galore
Without mourning hot concreted toes anymore
As a cool spell sighs upon their necks
Each idle with radiance worthy of praise and sects
Worshipers of the nigh
Like neph
Tribute with sighs
Ridged, hypnotized by mere thighs
And ***
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 8:18 PM UTC
yesterday's shift still aching in my bones
one more hour still isn't enough
unrequited energy, metaphysical
tumultuous intrusions echoing through my bones
home is an allusion to the beginning and end
feathering memories, a time capsule before you go
unconscious peace, finally good rest
lethargic upon wake, it will be indefinite.
Aug 18, 2022
Aug 18, 2022 at 2:30 AM UTC
Eventually
We all become believers
You will see
We all hit the gutters
And deceive
What we know
Into what we need
Feeding
On the hope
To cope
With the NO
Of every plea
Foiling
The gaping holes
While fruitlessly
Feathering dreams
Of ceasing
To be
Anywhere but there
Anywhere but here
Afraid and aware
Lying barren
On a hair
To everywhere
But where we want to be
Your everything
Believed in our belief
In our grieving
Of a meme
Obsolete and teething on a ***
Seething in seeing it
Unseamed
And undone
Unto nothing
Disconnected dots
Unlit
Breathing out
And away
From meaning
Slightly clinging
To the things
Believed
To Matter
Scattered over
The tattered matters
In meteor
Metaphors
Seeding
The other chapters
But not until after
Factoring in
The tractor beams
Of nothing
Just waiting
On the bottom
Of the gut
Crawling up
The throat lumps
And stuffing our luck
With all the succulent stuff
We are made of
Until eruptions
Of higher functions
Save us
From the ****
When enough
Is enough
And we just stop
Giving a ....
And let go
Blow after blow
Until we know
Who is in control
Of what is real
And what is
Made up
From atoms to the eave
Of our dreams
We must glean
What we need to
To get us through
These words
Of hurt
Out from lurking
In the work
Of our enemies
Forever tempting me
To blaspheme
In the wake
Of your passing
The endeavoring
Ever lasting
In careful mapping
Of the synapses
Collapsing
Into relief
Though brief
Locked in eternity
Oh the possibilities
My everything
And my humility
Locked in a single thought
In anxiety
Gone quietly
My hands before me
Steady
Always ready
Blanket me
In blank
Make me
Or break me
Take me
To forever
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 1:03 AM UTC
Scavengers of Black on White,
pecking; Stripping bare.
Feathering their own nests,
sticky with the blood of Others shiny words.
Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 4:08 AM UTC
Forever is hushed amongst sweet sounding rain;
Murmured heartbeats;
Turn a soft pirouette in the recess of mind;
Moon-burn, silvered, permeates the rake of glittered stars;
Your kiss carved into this heart...
Remember me, remember me...
And I cant get close enough to him;
Lilies, wild and dark,
Cool the blush of my cheek, a soft essence
Purl-binding, touching my soul;
A summons of wrists gently turned
To show veins that lie beneath,
Bleeding hushed words,
Flowing, where
The lull of nightfall, lays my hair between your fingers...
Remember me, remember me...
And I cant get close enough to him;
The breast of the ****** moon-spill,
A simple thread of heartbeat, a touch-tender upon lips
Parted;
You brushed me beautiful,
So beautiful;
I glitter… silk upon crimson, shining;
Slipping, burnished, to your tease,
Flesh on fevered flesh,
I want closer
To melt beneath your skin, to swim in your veins...
Remember me, remember me...
And I cant get close enough to him;
Your body,
Listens, caresses
A gentle burning in my spine,
Arching with the soft essence of night flowers;
And gentle, the pulse of hand's clasp;
My heart finding the rhythm of yours,
A sigh between each beat,
Whispering soft,
"Never let me go."...
Remember me, remember me...
And I cant get close enough to him;
Fire's flame dances, shadows writhe,
Touch-feathering the silk of petals, rising to meet
Each heartbeat
Waiting,
To feel your passion course through my blood,
Feel desire as it consumes me,
Suckle sweet, sutra your taste,
Filling me....
Remember me, remember me...
And I cant get close enough to him;
I whimper, sighs,
A blue voice, moaning through me
Folding my breath inside your hands;
Feeling the quivers you send racing through my thighs
Purging velvet depths,
Deeper
Before a rise of hip curves to please eyes
Lost inside the mirage of dreams,
To feel your love and know its truth as if it were my own...
Remember me, remember me............
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 2:31 PM UTC
Falcon rise— yellow racing eyes,
Blue wraith that rakes the skies,
Never has one fared such beauty,
Airs naught wholly bright as thee.
Is there a kneel for end of days—
Songs, deeds for those who prey?
Is there light breaking pied wings,
Or is heaven overlord to all things?
Sun spots feathering coated crest,
Talons top spires mountain breast,
When rivers of the wind fail all fowl,
What grace and splendour in a cowl?
Is there a psalm in the wailing winds,
A hymn that carries all innocent sins,
Or a fable, blue as stupendous skies,
A truest place where redemption lies?
The sea slides with lost ocean birds
And blue wings coast, row unheard,
Edging the skies with razors' tinge,
Seeding the immortal spark begins.
Falcon rise— yellow racing eyes,
Blue wraith that rakes the skies,
Never has one fared such beauty,
Naught airs wholly bright as thee.
— after William Blake
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 2:07 PM UTC
on edges of swing set of summer of child
I grow -- a rust abloom while ghosts
of women once called "mother" do push
a wind a creak a falling leaf feathering
downward, candied sentiment traveling
forward
for hope for empty swing to fill to turn
the chronometer back to 12 noon, March 6, 1972
Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 6:03 PM UTC
Falcon rise— yellow racing eyes,
Blue wraith that rakes the skies,
Never has one fared such beauty,
Airs naught wholly bright as thee.
Is there a kneel for end of days—
Songs, deeds for those who prey?
Is there light breaking pied wings,
Or is heaven overlord to all things?
Sun spots feathering coated crest,
Talons top spires mountain breast,
When rivers of the wind fail all fowl,
What grace and splendour in a cowl?
Is there a psalm in the wailing winds,
A hymn that carries all innocent sins,
Or a fable, blue as stupendous skies,
A truest place where redemption lies?
The sea slides with lost ocean birds
And blue wings coast, row unheard,
Edging the skies with razors' tinge,
Seeding the immortal spark begins.
Falcon rise— yellow racing eyes,
Blue wraith that rakes the skies,
Never has one fared such beauty,
Naught airs wholly bright as thee.
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 11:25 AM UTC
what amorous clutched secondS bloom and wither when that silken frame blossoms finger fraught tactile indulgence feathering sane notions of separate rose
May 17, 2010
May 17, 2010 at 1:53 AM UTC
you're a lovely twit, i see you there,
sat up high
day n night
in the twit
twoo tree.
Watching
years fly pass.
Hungrily devouring those
precious stolen morsels, you sigh,
longing for the tastiest dish
lost in the long grass.
You
are
tw oo.
Spanning wide, spreading high, strength from the roots, honest sap in the bark, all that you are
a beautiful, wonderous, lifesource
yet
evil lurks
amongst the whispering green.
Pretty owls who are pecking all the pie, when
eye cleansing rain reveals them, as painted little crows on haunches;
Greedy selfish birds, only feathering their own nests, trying before they buy.
So wait, you will, for the phoenix of your dreams. Soon. She'll emerge so bright
as the smoke becomes her, perhaps with a flame for you, to burn the grasses of her hiding place.
Jun 7, 2012
Jun 7, 2012 at 2:19 PM UTC
palms sifting over
the slick curves
of your timepiece,
infinite kickbeat
tipped the hourglass twice,
time slides down you
away from me,
sandy monument dissolving
into memory,
hazy beach heat wavers between
all twenty fingers searching
pressing
feathering up swans from skin,
bare-lipped unzipping
wanders from ear
to chin,
to whispering grins on thighs
grinding stone to sighs,
silently rising
sharp rush
of breath
pinched
release, just stay
with
me
in
me
meaning, meet me in the middle
reach the runny yolk of it all, spilling silk, rushing out all over you
all over me.
we hum into each other -
ecstasy.
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 12:06 AM UTC
Awarded Poem
(By Poetry First publishing International , as top 100 poems of the World-2015)
With the feathering breast of silvery wings
I float in the sky
Dancing in tune with the wind
Merging all my desires with it.
I find myself entirely there
When I myself is no more.
None can frustrate me as I have no aim
None can defeat me as I have no desire to win
I simply float with a desire less effort to go nowhere
Because I am not there to find myself.
My appearance is nothing
But the illusion of my disappearance
It is the only strength of my Being
I know the art of melting into nothingness
Under the cruel passion of loosing myself.
The whole liberty is in my palm
My warm womb, full of emptiness
Carries the whole universe
Breathing silently in deep slumber.
My pity flow in all dimensions to the stumbling man
Groping in the darkness of his self created hell
My compassion turns futile before it reaches the dark valley .
I have no language to communicate
Simply to commune with my words of light.
But hopeless I am
The moment my words reach you
You change the meaning with your tricky words
You may understand me or understand not
But you cannot misunderstand me
As you cannot distort my silence
But is my helpless ness
To be with you in the closest distance
I see everything suspended moment to moment.
Copyright@ Dr Sudhansu Dash
Sep 17, 2016
Sep 17, 2016 at 10:10 AM UTC
*The black sun coiled around you by morning,
Gingerly tending your wounded mind
You basked in the tall shadow of two lovers;
Waltzing along the line of indecisive love
Seven has always been your favorite number,
As we embarked to raise the tiger-eyed moon
That desolate soul wrapped in your inked bones
Couldn't silence the riptide that conquered like our kiss.
You were an addiction that took five months to sober,
Feathering every "I love you" with a pitiful look to me
I guess we just headed off to war in different directions
We were spilling blood in agony for each other.*
*There are regrets surfacing in your heart
I would know,
It's in my palm, right?*
"I am unwelcome and detatched, it seems."
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 10:12 PM UTC
.
Falcon rise— yellow racing eyes,
Blue wraith that rakes the skies,
Never has one fared such beauty,
Airs naught wholly bright as thee.
Is there a kneel for end of days—
Songs, deeds for those who prey?
Is there light breaking pied wings,
Or is heaven overlord to all things?
Sun spots feathering coated crest,
Talons top spires mountain breast,
When rivers of the wind fail all fowl,
What grace and splendour in a cowl?
Is there a psalm in the wailing winds,
A hymn that carries all innocent sins,
Or a fable, blue as stupendous skies,
A truest place where redemption lies?
The sea slides with lost ocean birds
And blue wings coast, row unheard,
Edging the skies with razors' tinge,
Seeding the immortal spark begins.
Falcon rise— yellow racing eyes,
Blue wraith that rakes the skies,
Never has one fared such beauty,
Naught airs wholly bright as thee.
— after William Blake
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 2:08 PM UTC
So when can I see you again
and when can I see you?
When can I ruffle your vague skirts
into a turmoil of waves
on the flustered reach of your thighs?
When can I lean my breath
against your ear to brush those drums
with my feathering voice?
When again can I kiss
the flagrant mischief of your mouth
or fever my fingers
in the dark arches of your form
I want to be alone with you
in your revelation
and falter at the flesh revealed
Can I undo your clothes and leave
Strewn puddles of patterns
like islands in the carpet seas?
Shall I take you naked
Into the broiling avalanche
Storming down your senses
to feel the brightening rapture
of your thunderous cries?
In a dance of few steps
shall I press my weight against you
and trace your pulsing blood
to find the riot in your nerves
beneath the careful veils
of your long attended beauty?
I seek subversive grace
and dream of your disheveled hair
When?
.
Or if you would prefer
I could take you to the movies
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 12:28 PM UTC
Bohemian runs to her castle
Full of flowers, sticks and stones
and tassels.
Blue-white springs on her right
And on her left-
the beautiful light of her future- her distant future.
Bohemian runs from her castle
The rooms are cold and the people
Build upon her hassles.
Will she know that-
those springs are on her right!
And on her left the beautiful, distant light of her future.
Lead on into the wild.
Won't you show me your deepest smile?
Fall away, fall away from the darkness.
It's okay, Bohemian.
Just smile.
Feathering away and spread your wings.
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 4:18 PM UTC
Reds and golds and
maple syrups dripping
from the leaves of the trees
Greens feathering the
walls of the valleys and tickling
our feet with their cool tongues
Blues that missed the sky
and hit the seas instead
forever keeping time
with a celestial conductor
Purples that kiss the forests
and leave their lip prints
on scattered petals
like tissues on the ground
The deepest chocolates mined
from the sweetest of soils
and baked by the brazen
Texas sun
This is what I paint my face with
in the morning
and then you left
your paints
your grays and charcoals
your cigarette butts
your footprint.
Apr 27, 2010
Apr 27, 2010 at 1:41 PM UTC
I can clearly state
And easily enumerate
No need to exaggerate
That in the aggregate
Up until the current date
The state of our beloved state
Has chosen to populate
The majority of the electorate
With the dregs of the vulgate.
I’m stating that our congress
Has become a total mess
With the outcome being less
Pleasing than a pool of cess.
With many of ‘no’ and few of ‘yes’
I fear we have to confess
We will be forced to dress
In ***** rags and even less
Too broke for a game of chess.
We are a buckless stag nation
On less than WW2 B rations
Caught in the collaboration
Between rightist indignation
And hyper-religious damnation
Golden calf worship and adoration
Built on the dollar sign adulation
Fostered by the dissembling peroration
By the authors of American privation.
Our representatives sell out constantly
And take in our dollars steadily
Saying yes to bribery readily
Feathering their beds happily
Ignoring their promises fearlessly
Because they proceed quite protectedly
From any repercussions legally
From the almighty powers that be
That coddle and tend them carefully.
It has to be that way necessarily
In this falsely-labeled free country.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 10:20 PM UTC
Why hold he hilt of your swords as if
poised
to strike, to blow
To live in that anticipation is a faulty life
man
upon the precipice of greatness will always turn
always falter
for the hand upon the hilt holds tighter then it's counterpart feathering the treaty
The brand upon your hat shows nothing but the fact that you
man
are among the masked
shown is your ideals of what goodness is but hidden is your role
are you significant
as each man must be
or are you no man at all
are you but a child playing the only game you know?
You are a prowler nonetheless
in the corridors of someones mind you
crowd their visage with your own
you
who favors the sword to the treaty you
are one of the decisions given power
to create more
or to **** it off with a rise of your hand
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 1:38 PM UTC
Falcon rise— yellow racing eyes,
Blue wraith that rakes the skies,
Never has one fared such beauty,
Airs naught wholly bright as thee.
Is there a kneel for end of days—
Songs, deeds for those who prey?
Is there light breaking pied wings,
Or is heaven overlord to all things?
Sun spots feathering coated crest,
Talons top spires mountain breast,
When rivers of the wind fail all fowl,
What grace and splendour in a cowl?
Is there a psalm in the wailing winds,
A hymn that carries all innocent sins,
Or a fable, blue as stupendous skies,
A truest place where redemption lies?
The sea slides with lost ocean birds
And blue wings coast, row unheard,
Edging the skies with razors' tinge,
Seeding the immortal spark begins.
Falcon rise— yellow racing eyes,
Blue wraith that rakes the skies,
Never has one fared such beauty,
Naught airs wholly bright as thee.
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 1:32 PM UTC
Falcon rise— yellow racing eyes,
Blue wraith that rakes the skies,
Never has one fared such beauty,
Airs naught wholly bright as thee.
Is there a kneel for end of days—
Songs, deeds for those who prey?
Is there light breaking pied wings,
Or is heaven overlord to all things?
Sun spots feathering coated crest,
Talons top spires mountain breast,
When rivers of the wind fail all fowl,
What grace and splendour in a cowl?
Is there a psalm in the wailing winds,
A hymn that carries all innocent sins,
Or a fable, blue as stupendous skies,
A truest place where redemption lies?
The sea slides with lost ocean birds
And blue wings coast, row unheard,
Edging the skies with razors' tinge,
Seeding the immortal spark begins.
Falcon rise— yellow racing eyes,
Blue wraith that rakes the skies,
Never has one fared such beauty,
Naught airs wholly bright as thee.
— after William Blake
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 3:31 PM UTC