"festoon" poems
Olives, figs, dates and mastic, wyrd or oracles, fates and magic, wars and loves and all that’s tragic.
A Father’s lust, an Uncle’s hate, a puzzling labyrinth, through the gate,
A Cretan born, another covered, a starry symbol, placed in the cupboard,
Special place, where heroes meet him, mindless creature, murderous ******
South in winter, man below with a bull above, placed in the heavens by two father's love,
A strangeness here, the seat of trade, in forbidden tryst, a beast was made,
Man of blood, tortured soul, stalks the maze, that stalks the pole,
"Stranger still, this wild pattern, revolving Seventh, Circle of Saturn?"
Unholy corridors made of granites, trace out the movements of the planets!
Life of horror, a soul of pain, terrorizing, with no refrain,
Smells their fear, scents of sin, raging actions, threshing men;
“They call me Moloch! They call me Baal! Tear your body, festoon my hall!”
In trepidation, to gatekeeper sent, a ****** start, for your punishment;
“I collect the hearts, I eat the eyes, I eat the liver, before he dies!”
Olives, figs, dates and mastic, wyrd or oracles, fates and magic, life and death and all that’s tragic.
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 11:48 PM UTC
In the divet between mountains
Resides a wooden cabin – ostensibly an amalgamation of the scape
Adroitly - I - quondam female warrior flit
Down massive (ancient) hand-laid, hand-cut carved stone steps
Bounding from contingent step onto the dense pad of turned soil
Tacit compliance between gravity and soil holds footprints bound
A compressed deflating crescendo as pace ignites with bounds
Cadences of protuberant wildflowers and grasses erupt from swollen terra
A winsome chromatic menagerie, dispersed in ecstatic fistfuls
A venerably ancient ritual
My nascent clandestine vocation
Personally meted out - a beatification for my provisional sanctuary
Along glacier-fed stream
Lissome fingers shadow inert stalks –plucking dormant beginnings from their desiccated ligaments
I am austere and unadorned save for a festoon of pyrite flecks trailing my semblance
Residual gilding from my ante-meridian swim taken after requisite gathering of wild blackberries, goose berries, and rhubarb along oft-tamped path
The sun, nestling into its requisite apex endorsed my completion
I reclined into the hassock of soil, feeling the elements settle about with an embossment of my form
Imposing verdure arched subtly as compressed soil beckoned hyperbolic flux
As I lay within the basilica of opulent living columns replete with comestible bounty
Lingering dew honed inflections of sacrosanct petrichor in unison with piquant clover
Wild purple clover buds saccharinely tinted and inundated nestled nerves in mine cribriform plate
Birds pitched and galloped through the frond tips and beyond in the lapis expanse
Frequently snatching damselfly’s and assemblages of midges from their ephemeral drift
Auspicious rays transcended stippled diaphanous gravid clouds
Light inundated ether entered humbly into the cathedral oculus
Pyrite speckled terrain beneath, and my bare gilded form above
Cast a refracted aura about my sanctuary
Precipitously the elusive vaporous embankment distended further
Ashen atmospheric correspondence inaugurated liquescent sustenance to my mountain abode
And I -
Lingered beneath the descending gobbets, curls furled in a puddle
Fresh topsoil cupping my corporal topographic contours
Pressing blackberries into my mouth between smiles
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
I am unsure of the geology
of where you’re from.
I expect there exists
shelves and sheaths
pale grey-yellow
like serum in the blood
and rocks resembling
sun-weathered lobster
carapaces.
all of this enclosed by
a festoon of green pine—
its regalia cut sonic
and naked
wrung and wrung again
by august.
on the edge
a cabin is hemmed on
the skirt of ocean—
spikes of molding logs
propped and resting
akimbo.
a wave comes in.
a wave goes out.
a wave stays to shake
your hand.
introduces itself as
sensate verge
and wonderment.
home.
I can only imagine what
it is for you.
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 10:47 AM UTC
What is that reality that appears to me in dreams,
chock-full of misgivings and doubt. I counteract my fear of life
with my fears of slumber,
dust in my eyes and stiff as lumber.
In truth - I'm not stiffened
by fear,
by nausea,
post-pubescent sacrilege,
or all of the above.
I'm not up-kept,
grizzly with ennui;
I'm dizzy, confiding my loss.
I feel the lips that kiss
but can't be drawn: from mind,
stencil
paper
pen,
on sheets of thick
pale and
cellulose,
for the heart to mend.
My unsteady hand
is my fearful friend
A soft embrace
from a warm mind
Somber
and so full of Life
clung to by the scent of Death
Endowed
with an eternal promise and regret
from veins of plants
or the glow of stars.
Cold, mechanical debt.
(my heart, so full of...)
(my mind, so hot with...)
(my body, trembling in...)
I am gulf-like
a stream full of trees and glass
echoing a promise of shattering wind.
Will I be published
after my death,
asleep predating, a life conceived.
Will I live to see myself alone,
and to discover
that which I'm not?
Or will I stutter
and wallow a curse,
Up towards the sky,
Until the final verse.
On a boast
or chasing the Rail,
pale as dirt, and shallow still.
Will my true love abandon, break, strain,
Burn away the wax,
or hurry to blame?
Omit my evils from the star-charts,
then just to vacate the void.
From the half-broken corridors of rocks,
nooks, crannies.
Carry laughter through the night
burn the effigy bowed-down,
before dawn's courageous,
ever-splaying light
Angels,
of Carlo and Marx,
plenty by noon
festoon,
again by day
thus replay,
Endeavor to infinity, fair child.
Remold the light by Day
and remold the Day
by Night.
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 12:53 AM UTC
You began as a dream
Dreamt by leaders with vision
Evolving to surpass
All of man's wildest ambition...
With adventurous men
Like Shepherd and Glenn
You stubbornly strove
To prove, once again
Beyond any doubt
That bounderies could be broken...
Despite mishap and fire
Alas, you did inspire
A generation to dream...
From Mercury to Apollo
The world, it did follow
Your steady pace
To Tranquility Base...
Via Viking and Voyager
Your efforts did prove
That exploration of the universe
Was well on the move...
To Mars, Jupiter, Saturn and Neptune...
You tenaciously endeavored
To, your accomplishments, festoon...
Your progress was sure
As you strove to endure
The incessent chatter
Of the grossly short-sighted
Their nonsense did clatter
Proving they were poorly enlightened...
With untold discoveries
Like non-stick surfaces and airtight seals
Through your numerous breakthroughs
You've shown us how it feels
To live better...
From Columbia to Hubbel
You've saved us great trouble
In our daily lives...
With your Space Station mission
You've shown the same vision
And, continue to lead in gaining cognition
Of our universe...
Lead on, great adventurers
Lead on.
Nov 1, 2010
Nov 1, 2010 at 6:35 PM UTC
in the landscape of you
I am a wandering soul
with but my words
for protection
as I make you my goal
in the expanse of your vista,
I wear the cloak of our depth
your heartbeats in mine
as we breathe
the same breath
I feel your rugged peaks,
your valleys that sink
your core's wildflower essence
that stains me with ink
I bathe in its fragrance,
a tattooed poet's imprint
in the primal spheres in my being
enveloping my core
all the clearer
for seeing
and when your rough
tempest storms
are afar, yet in view
I dive straight to
their center
into the magnet of you
for
I will water your deserts
infuse fresh creeks
in your dry
I will run through your forests
as I call to your wild
as I straddle your cliffs,
festoon your tundra
with blooms
steam will rise from
your earthcore
and fill up my womb
Through the dew on our lashes
through my lava that flows,
the stars in your eyes
make my universe glow
these geographic measures
I take
as you let me inside
our bloodstreams merging
as we get lost in the tides
electric pulsed woodlands
that spread iced wildfires
slaking the loops
of floodgates' desire
and I will hold you together
if you fall, torn apart
bonded forever
in this map of our
hearts
Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 5:43 PM UTC
Juxt
Easy bucks
Market flux
The democratic peace
Imperial caprice
Praise be to lord and Savior
Sacrament, scandal-flavored
Legion of dissenting voice
Treason in the use of choice
Give me your teeming tired, your huddled poor
Bones with to festoon the corporate door
And if you could turn to me, adoring
I’ll check my busted magic billiard ball
All signs point toward what I’m ignoring
Burnt the bridge to your heart, land, deed and all
When time is right, we secretly confide
What should have lain bare in our first report
Our ideal homes of mental cards collide
Seems, in comparison, we all fall short
Glory in history contiguous
Gory details, a bit ambiguous
The equality of man
******* Ku Klux ****
Only with the best intent
Rubber bullet malcontents
Perpetual motion
Toward backward notions
Money flows
Deathly throes
Oppose
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 5:00 PM UTC
A baby takes steps
such deliverance and liberty,
and each one taken, a sculptor's dreams,
raw clay to break life's mold.
A painter and a skeptic,
each stroke of the brush
questioned.
Why? Why? Why?
A festoon adorns his hall,
forever and ever
seemingly falling,
gently riding the curve
ever-expanding.
Pin down the treacherous worm,
defiled in soul
and callous has it become,
shun shun shun
holier than thou I have become,
a revolutionary I have become,
an angel in your eyes I have become,
and an apple beheld by Eve's eyes I have become,
true neutral,
true blue,
on and on I live.
Flew through the window,
was a crow,
it weaved and spun
a marigold story,
till it near melted
down through the drain.
Protuberant mound of earth,
bulging eyes pierce the sky,
enlightenment from the ground,
insects yearn a nihilistic life,
existed they never did,
and their ashes carried to the wind.
Farewell,
au revoir,
march in the perilous parade
hastily prepared for the world,
but please do bring your sandals.
The Sculptor and the Child
have crafted in their dreams,
the ideal world.
Jun 9, 2010
Jun 9, 2010 at 6:57 PM UTC
A festoon of larks swing across a spire of clouds.
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 3:42 PM UTC
He was long-winded
and going on about
physics, about gravity
and the processes with
which it associates,
about how you can
blow lightly on a
precariously assembled
house of cards to see
it fall over but if you
remove one of the great
mortared stones from
the base of one of the
great mortared pyramids
the structure stands tall
and sturdy, a forever
remnant of one great
injustice and remarkable
innovation.
In the dusty garage that
day his glasses covered
in gray soot and greased
fingerprints on side of
face and shoes with caked
mud from the recent rain
that quickly turned to
cerulean sky as the clouds
were whisked by so quickly
it looked like they were
being pulled by some great
and holy wind, beckoned
to festoon someone's poorly
timed outdoor wedding and
force crepe paper flowers
to stick to stucco walls like
wheat paste.
You think you need to
talk to a person when
you have a problem,
but those automated
systems were created
in the images of people
who were created in
the images of other
people who were
created in the image
of God or some other
restless celestial being,
perhaps a dying star
or an asteroid hurtling
and on a trajectory to
startle a species primitive
and struggling to survive.
The vast mathematical
implications that determine
the universe are sometimes
a bit too much for dinner
conversation, so our chats
turn quickly to local sports
teams and the evening news.
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 3:16 PM UTC
T-Together they'll create a lovely moon
W-Wonderful is their adoration's boon
O-Oneness of love this pair shall festoon
H-Harmonic shall they be together
E-Exquisite of a meshing love tether
A-Abiding in all kinds of weather
R- Resplendently matching with other
T-Tenderness their eternal soft feather
S-Special the song of amity's heather
B-Bounty and plenty e'er they'll possess
E-Elated this pair in joyous congress
A-Always to be in the realms of fullness
T-Twined by braids to true loveliness
I-Infinite the land of affection's prettiness
N-Naught shall blight their gleefulness
G-Glories shared in a bower of sweetness
A-Aligned in all that they say and do
S-Sublime the narrative of these two
O-Of love's serenade they'll endlessly play
N-Nicely coalescing in each and every way
E-Ecstatic this their devotional interplay
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 6:29 PM UTC
Their wrecked bodies festoon the fence, lovingly hand hung.
The spot was recently afflicted with such violence
now sits empty of life, full of hideous silence.
Take a hold forcefully with your grasping fingers of
the handle
and wipe the slate clean,
sweep the desk off,
rip the picture from the wall,
take ahold of your emotions and grip
the handle.
The man tells you
"The weak let tragedy define them",
but you don't listen to the man.
In righteous anger
you become the
dangerous stranger.
Oct 3, 2010
Oct 3, 2010 at 11:33 PM UTC
Vernal breezes gently rocked
the garden jhoola
the blue sky vine looping
across the butterfly bench
created a festoon of stunning amethyst flowers
Ram Namavali was approaching
contemplating Him, Lion of the Raghu dynasty
embodiment of dharma and source of bliss
my heart and lips blossomed open
a garland of melodious Ram
bhajans perfumed the noonday air
after the sweet singing session
I did a few Yoga stretches and
decided to pick some luscious black mulberries
I approached the mulberry tree skyrocketing in the
western corner of the backyard
lifting large heart shaped
green leaves I found one or two ripe berries
“Hmm” I thought to myself I wonder what happened to all
the mulberries?
Parting another section of the tree, two orange speckled eyes
met mine exploding in innocent wonder
there seated nonchalantly on a happy branch was a
pretty lil’ brown dove
“So it’s you who’s been goggling all the mulberries!” I exclaimed
caught “red-winged” the bewildered bird took off scampering
across the sky
I gathered my meager but delicious bounty added a few frozen
blue berries squirted a heap of whipped cream
then myself and Rama (the kitty) eagerly licked the platter clean
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 12:08 AM UTC
In this restless desert
things are not as
dry as they seem
for after the plentiful rains
the temporal grass has spread
as quick and alive as wildfire
Looking velvety to the touch,
it waves in synchronicity
as the wind sweeps through
its sharp blades
like a tender stroke of hair
from a lover
wildflowers peep
their heads of color
over the shoots
in vibrant frequencies:
crimson, yellow, purple
I want to run through them
festoon them upon
my queenly being
not actually touching them
just reveling
in their existence
I want to become vested
in the accoutrements
of simplicity
wear them upon
my essence
in tiny points
of effervescent love
particles of colored joy
that mark me with pointillism
so that when I am sitting
in the cold lonely of the night
I can embrace them
in their royal glory
and be caressed by
the loyalty
of their
spark
Mar 18, 2016
Mar 18, 2016 at 5:29 PM UTC
blooming rainbows in dewy pearls,
on rivières with rosette curls,
on webs festoon'd, on leaves of tree,
tiaras hung on twined ivy
as the golden globe appears
shoots its rays as arrows' swirls
through sweet dawn's crystal tears
of opalescent mother o' pearls
on verdant fronds as they unfurl
like dripping tears of Slighted Girl
as pale moon that sunlight kissed
seeks Her Lover midst the mist
lost beneath the velvet canopy
of diamond strings as cherry burl
in the folds of world's entropy
in chorus of the morning merl
Jun 13, 2022
Jun 13, 2022 at 2:40 PM UTC
Pink roses festoon the entrance
to the place where I arrive
to meet the Beloved.
Summer has thrown open her doorway
to my confusion and I am lost.
Like an owl crying for her lost lover
You call and something in me stirs.
Answering this whisper that pulls
my soul from it’s slumber,
feeling my wanting,
lost in my longing and
not knowing, I am here.
In the stillness you meet my gaze.
In my question I feel your embrace,
your desire, your love.
But, there is no you
there is no me.
Only this Passion
Only this Presence
That tickles my toes,
thrusts through my core and
erupting in my heart, expands
to answer my question,
to feed my yearning.
Then, tasting the fruit of
summer’s first harvest
I rest.
Feb 26, 2010
Feb 26, 2010 at 2:07 PM UTC
"Say it plainly, the human name doesn't mean **** to a tree." - Grace Slick
Stumbling the rocky falls path,
two large trees,
hickory and sycamore,
fallen to the last thunderstorm.
Soil and stones
festoon their naked roots;
leaves still fresh,
green, not wilted.
I clamber over and continue.
Now an obstacle,
in the cool of autumn
we will return
with chain saws, axes,
cut and carry this wood,
transform it into heat
for winter.
Walking, falling, cutting, burning:
all magical steps
in the inescapable process
of age, death, decay and rebirth.
The earth provides
and points the way.
We do what must be done,
following her lead,
taking our place,
in the process,
not so different
from grubs or termites
as we might like
to imagine.
- mce
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 9:39 AM UTC
Dominating democracy
The current debonair
Popular rule world over
Parties playfully bannered
Need to be well mannered
Dreamed deemed democracy
Of the people, for the people
Cozy easy essence of electoral pulpit
An elusive mirage of political outfit
Exciting polls parlour
Power crazy parties
Seat savvy leaders
Alluring elections
Festoon of manifesto
Tuned and tutored motto
Voters’ votes wide divide
Soapy sops sweep success
Massive mandate despise
Despite passive poll
Empower modern emperor
His rising raging entourage
Poles apart; ex-party departs
Next party takes part
Polls uphold democracy
Parties unfold idiosyncrasy
Polls are tools of power pools
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 8:04 PM UTC
from far away i heard its cry
the fiery body in the sky
its loneliness, its fear of dark,
as it alone as Noah's ark
in perfect curve as elephant's tusk
sails the skies from morn till dusk
though all about on it depend,
the moon in shine, the planets in wend,
it knows not its own power
the energy it showers every hour
so too, my friend, you'll never know
the worth and warmth you endow,
upon all life that's round about
yeah, e'en on your bowing out
as star within the heaven's festoon
the silver dust that's liberal strewn
pulsates with unending light
so you, my child, shine so bright
so place a smile on those lips
and sail the sea as naval ship
let not the darkness you eclipse
your soul's music on this life-trip
Jun 14, 2022
Jun 14, 2022 at 7:50 AM UTC
#*How would you know
The words that stand in the corner row
What meaning they held
In their little fists
Until they were asked to show
One by one they follow each other
Make a chain, a festoon, hung low
For all to know and read
Dispersed as seeds
Their different beats
A melody sweet
Across the valley a rainbow greets*#
Mar 14, 2021
Mar 14, 2021 at 8:27 AM UTC
Every sunset narrates a story
About the day that passed by beautifully or had some worry
As the sun decides to set
The sky above just rets
To look like beautiful pallete with a mix of all hues
A little bit of pink, white, orange, yellow and blue.
The radiant beauty which cannot be looked upon at noon
Soothes your eyes now just like a festoon
The dim golden light drives all the species to their nest
Making them a little tired and urging to take rest
So that they are ready for the next day,
To fulfill the duties that comes their way.
Always smile at this orange beauty when it is disappearing from the sky,
Coz it indicates that you my friend survived another day without a wry!!
~Taniya Mishra
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 11:32 AM UTC
Petite, pixie tangerine
As mawkish as the taste of something saccharine
Ludicrous, gawky pair of vague hoops
Forbidden with the cheapest boos
Body's wrapped in a fiery Mongolian coat
Personality-shelves loaded with gloat
She is made of silver and gold
Though in three hundred and sixty-five days,
She had lost courage, had lost hope
The juvenile decided to go red in rust
Like her heart, her blood, her wrath, and her pampers
She puffily cries for help and for the pity,
For the exposed and the logical ******
Thereby, her cheekbones bulged inhumanely,
Stock-still, specked with a festoon of Simper
Such an extravagant trailblazer
A Sangria wine in hand and a fruit ****
With a similar gleam of her deep, raspberry gloss
And the way her chapped lips touched the rim,
It's not as fascinating as it seems,
Because she knows on her part that her heart is lost
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 8:39 AM UTC