"fragranced" poems
She is A Queen
She's something special, similar to a candy coated dream.
The God in her will sooth you soul as if you were Listening To the sound of the rushing river Streams
Her spirit Shines brighter than a car's high Beams.
Her love is sweeter than brown sugar
And Me oh my she is Looker
Her big chestnut sultry eyes reveals the beauty of Her soul inside.
I can just smell the aroma of her Shea butter and coconut fragranced skin as it glows due to her internal flame shinning within.
Cocoa Brown is the color of her melanated Bronze complexion.
Man, her smile drives me wild.
That luminous smile, her glorious smile, is as gorgeous as the clouds when she shows her pearly whites.
It brightens my day like a lamp in the darkness of the night.
And her mind Is a secret treasure That only her King Can discover and uncover the bountiful mountains he'll climb.
She's Artistic and Musically Inclined
And at the drop of a dime shell bust out in A poetic rhyme
And her words, Gosh her blissfully profoundly spoken words, will send chills up your spine
She's My own little personal ray of sunshine
Radiating truth and her words are so kind
She's simply divine
She's a peacemaker staying serene
From the inside out she is a beautiful Human being
She's good for your mental hygiene
Kinda like how your body needs protein.
Royalty is embedded in DNA gene
And her crown is made of lustrous flowing locks shining like oil sheen.
She is Royalty, She's My sister from another Mister, She is an Unshaken, Strong, melanized Beautiful Queen.
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 12:55 PM UTC
I wish my love is your first breath
of crisp, fresh air;
the first glimmer of sunlight,
lining the horizons of dawn,
as the lights of the Ferris wheel burn out;
your lips stained with nostalgia,
kissed with the cherry tint of candy floss;
the smell of clean fabric against your skin--
I wish I am--
fragranced with the scent of popcorn--
after the carnival.
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 12:26 PM UTC
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, memory loss is impossible to the sense of smell:)
ancient perfume box
left somewhere in a classic loft
opened moments in a meet
to an old of an old sweet
memory in a tape on a leash in fear
like a flashback of brief to four years
disclose the good not the sad
never the bad
already made sure to wear
on the days of happy in mere
and now the odor
smells a swift of colors
once in each while
go back a little in miles
a tickle to the nose
something out of Beethoven's ears
souvenirs the precious chandeliers
things the mind randomly chose
several pasts when my pen couldn't write
and the piano served a beam of light
in an ocean
sinking deep with no motion
escapes
from each New Year's mistake
for the lifetime spaces
of the turn from the tackling faces
pink floral promises
of better opposites
fragranced to keep a stay
afraid a glass would slip away
------ravenfeels
Aug 14, 2021
Aug 14, 2021 at 6:46 PM UTC
Give me a spring morning, far from winter’s troubles.
On an earth axis-turned toward the life-giving sun.
Announce it with tulips and trumpets of yellow daffodils.
Watch as young, colorful, impressionist, bluebell,
dogwood, snowdrop, and primrose blossoms preen,
in the candid radiance of the abaxial springtime sun.
Enjoy new life dancing, playfully on tactile wafts of warm air.
Inhale that air, freshly fragranced by flowers in luscious bloom.
Catch the bright chirp of new life and hear the humble
buzz of bees hard at their work, spreading the pollen of life.
Then lengthen these hopeful, verdant days, like a blessing.
Mar 19, 2023
Mar 19, 2023 at 1:48 PM UTC
You sink into the fresh cotton ocean
fragranced by the oriental softener
I want you to reach into your inner
most abyss, while I pick my lotion.
We are alone my love, tonight
I owe you with my hands, give up the fight
Trust me, while I weave a warm thread of
tenderness on you, with me, you tread.
My fingers cascade and snake along your spine
I dedicate this moment to you. My message
is carved into you during this slow massage
To me, you are truly defenseless, thus divine
Imperceptibly, I skim your skin,
your breath, I appease
my angel, dream with ease
fallen asleep at my shin.
April 9, 2018
To Laurentin
Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 10:25 AM UTC
***** summer(deeply1st)on edge
season, bonny, svelte and croons
with wide cheek rouge splashed
damson thick eve: muscled up
thick little back splayed fitness
invites sin(2ndnever)body the
white heather, comely fragranced,
dew weeping lilies are hushed
coolly at petals crush, the stem
carries 'pon winsome morn
and
the faintly murdered, caving rush
Jul 25, 2012
Jul 25, 2012 at 12:15 AM UTC
I remember
Ephemeral moments lost to a softly spoken kiss,
The shadowed whisper, carried on heartbeats
Within the echo of loneliness...
I remember
The lithe scent of wildflowers,
The sway of deep afternoons,
Where sighs were lost beneath the epiphany of prayers...
I remember
An orchid fragranced daybreak
When the sunlight traced my skin
As I awoke to the fragile kiss of an unborn morning...
I remember
Opalescent rain rushing through my veins,
The wild blue radiance, seizing it's elixir
In the thunderous rush of crimson heat...
I remember
Exhales, soft and hushed in a wonderland of unspoken understanding,
The inhalation of a kiss exchanged in the ache of lips,
Whispering, " sweet Dreams, I Love you"...
I remember
Embers bathed in his essence
The song of his heartbeat, igniting my existence,
In a fire, tenderly traced upon fevered skin ...
I remember
As my breath caught, and held on tightly
To his hushed
"Shhhh ... breathe deep, my love ... just breathe"...
I remember
As I rest my heart upon his pillow,
Softly drowning in this unmade bed
Lost, and lonely beside the apparitions of his last goodnight kiss.........
Jul 28, 2012
Jul 28, 2012 at 4:33 AM UTC
My soul married yours long before it told the heart,
That was your secret gestures, it had been concealing
And shy alphabet letters formed our non-linear talks
On which ancient symbols were awakening with the news,
That my rapt countenance longed to behold only you.
And in Morse code, my riotous pulse was pinging,
In tiptoeing tiny steps, toward your smile-fragranced planes;
With small sips of blind and drunken-wheeling wonder,
On Adirondacks of time, I finally met your gaze.
And together found, we were writing the same vows;
Our fingers following a bright-feathered knowing,
And scented blooms of flowers knew your older names;
And avalanching comets swept clean the turgid dawns.
Then the seeds of forever were pocketed in your breath,
Wreathed by stars, and saved for hidden yearning.
Jul 13, 2010
Jul 13, 2010 at 12:27 PM UTC
Long and Long I waited, endlessly, for you
Far and Far I ventured, maddingly, for you
To the deepest depths of Styx, I ****** myself for you
To the paramount peaks of Blue, I ascended high for you
O, my soul! Your radiance bewilders me
I sought for you among the trees
Dressed in majestic silky fleece
I sought for you among the insects
Adorned with ornamental trinkets
I sought for you among the beasts
With your lips purer than priests
I sought for you among the runes
Hair fragranced by jovial Junes
I sought for you among the humans,
For You, I searched the frigid south,
For You, I searched the turbulent north
For You, I searched the scornful west.
For You, I searched the pitiful east
But with mournful tears,
I found you saddened
I found you wounded
I found you chained
I found you condemned
I found you abandoned
(Your torn fleece
Your broken ornaments
Your scarred lips
Your tousled hair
Your teary eyes
Sears my heart)
Yet your presence soothes your oppressors?
Yet your heart trusts their successors?
O heinous concubines of pride
Why do you strangle my bride?
Why persecute my bride?
Sep 9, 2020
Sep 9, 2020 at 8:29 AM UTC
Fantastic fantasy flounders floundering in the fleece.
Fleeing fervent frustration faces, phasing in for free.
Final frolic frothy, frim and folly forth.
Felix feline fragranced friends and fluffy Faradays.
Apr 2, 2012
Apr 2, 2012 at 6:32 PM UTC
Ah…
Even the moon shies away from your charms,
Your face is the most marvellous…
Ah I swear by these eyes full of love…
Ah I swear by these eyes full of love,
What’s a man, even angels will get tempted,
Your face is the most marvellous…
You have fragranced the garden of my life,
Your face is the most marvellous…
If you smile then the spring is here…
If you smile then the spring is here,
Flowers blossomed wherever you let your shadow fall,
Flowers blossomed wherever you let your shadow fall…
You've fragranced the garden of my life,
What’s a man, even angels will get tempted…
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 10:51 AM UTC
when I was young
the sun always shone
in the summer
the sky was a paint-by-numbers colour
blue thick and solid
always there
the grass was the green
of a dragon’s back
long and populated with insects
birds sung
from morning to night
the air was fragranced with roses
days lasted for ever
sleeping with sand between my toes
dried salt on my skin
we collected winkles for supper
running back up the hill
shells clanking in the bucket
shelling peas on the back step
popping them open
with our thumbs
I know in my heart
it rained sometimes
but it never mattered then
Jun 30, 2011
Jun 30, 2011 at 10:35 AM UTC
two souls enjoined by God become one flesh,
no more are they a husband and a wife,
one body, all its capillaries meshed,
one heart, two lungs, one breath, one beating life,
oh, we are interwoven, every thread,
like lovers' fingers interlocked in time,
as slowly flesh cleaves unto flesh in bed,
we are but one alone, not yours, not mine,
though when from me you tear yourself away,
our tapestry becomes unraveled, cringe!
how is it you are whole still, as you say,
while I remain a curled and tattered fringe?
our love once fragranced every single breath,
now torn, it seems alone I bleed to death
(C)2010, Christos Rigakos
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 10:39 PM UTC
(A Sequel to The Corpses Have Hearts to Speak)
Let me start my tell-tale long,
Or should I say my paintings old
Of question marks scribbled
With some words mingling in my specter—
The unseen are the most visible things;
they exist for what we believe
what we fear,
and reasons we never die to seek;
they drench, torment
and foreshadow time
as we slowly unveil
the skin we dangle in;
Let us see inside our own first—
Using a fatal mirror we loaned
Do you know who you are?
Do you do what you do?
Do you love what you are
and what you love?
What is it, that you love?
Aye, after the long journey
Of fragranced fragments I knitted myself
I will recite what I have known of myself;
I am the irony of the fragile lies
I am the thought of every sordid heart
I am none yet I am whole;
don’t call me demon,
for I am not angel
But back to the realmity
Call it, darling, my story perhaps
Realm of reality—
Within the shades of the eternal fifth day;
In a room full of world
I find a young soul crouching,
Loved yet unloved—
Beautiful yet ruined and ******
Wrenching my unbeating
Blackdusted heart
So I say to my ethereal self;
I am no more—
Yet how can I feel
That she is full of life
Yet dead beneath?
Make it clear,
I desire life for twice
She is hellbound to death
She would torment life
For the smile of old grey death
Oh,
and I would abandon my last daydream dear
For ungrateful loves long ago;
Is life, so underrated?
Is life, not so precious?
Is life, stop—
Do life, just stay still without a change?
Is life, a constant darling named Constance?
Oh,
such joy it is to live
and laugh?
Oh,
such joy it is,
To see what my ethereal self
Can never grasp
Ever again
Of love,
separated between world
Self—Regret
And constance
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 9:47 AM UTC
Men and even some Women meet in
over weight and over fragranced,
obnoxious groups.
All wearing the same colors like mutant
cheerleaders or
under achieving private school kids.
The food they eat is greasy and their conversation is
nothing but repeating what their
television screen had already told them .
Men argue over numbers and Women try to still
look cute while dressing in mens
athletic gear looking like fools
with their hair done.
The more Beer they drink the more
screaming they do at two
dimensional people
on a huge television screen
who can't hear them.
And they call this entertainment .
I call it insanity, the worst kind of sickness.
A sickness that no one's aware enough or awake enough,
to ever know they have.
May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 at 1:21 AM UTC
by keen edged light do slice and fray the knotted chord of sanity
shed miraculous logic
for 2 bold fantasy, thy fancy of bulging rainbows, a serrated pillar
of luminous children
midnight is a laughing thing, a great greeting lassitude, as carefully
collapses silken hair
for who's art i slaughter apprehensively motion, becoming prone
a receptive son of the calming burst of gleaming fur
i stoke repetitiously the cambered vertebrae of fire
and by fingered velocity i stroke about the brash sliver of hair
bashing aggressively from thy stupor of unclad flesh(a bastion
slight fragranced as aphrodite, the hollow of thy lip brimming
incandescent droplet
a treat
i thee
oral
)...!
Nov 24, 2010
Nov 24, 2010 at 10:25 AM UTC
Wild Rosehip grew by roadside in the dusty stony soil,
The thorny shrub, by life's dull prose tough struggle hardened,
Being unaware that indistinguished are its heart and soul
From ones of rose, which lives in beauty of well cared garden.
But Gardener instilled in lonely bush hope's stalk - to cure its past loneliness and worry,
And blossomed it in Spring, to the surprise of self, with shine of tender fragranced glory ...
That morning wrote the bard his best love song, the song, with feelings passion fired,
- To fame the beauty of the one, to whom his heart belongs, by nature's miracle inspired.
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 12:30 PM UTC
And forth came a glimpse
Of a withered face,
In the broken mirror,
That stands behind the curtain lace
Grey, messy hair bun,
Wrinkle filled sunken eyes
A heavy set of, glass rests
On the nose, pointing skies
The fresh mint tea brew
Excits, the twitched lips
Oh, dear I miss thee -
Thy soul that rips
Guide these trembling hands
To thank in a prayer
The lousy back won't help
For my walker, has lost a pair
Dragging one leg by other
As I sit by the fireplace
Sipping the fragranced tea
Rocking my chair in a pace
Thousands of memories
Rail down my alzheimers head
So many years gone
Now, it's just me and my empty bed
Tears fill and spill by its own will
I got to pack up, for I to, have to leave
Leaving all memories behind
In a slient place to grieve
A small room, I am spared to
At the golden age gardenia
I am almost gone from myself
Just few threads, hanging near...
©sim
Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 6:31 PM UTC
Secrets pattern my skin,
Purple, blue and black.
Starting with cotton candy blooming,
Ending with music locked in sunset.
Each of these secrets are printed with lips,
Scattered over my body like dying paint splatters;
Starting in my head,
Curling across my goose bumps and
Pooling into my toes.
Sometimes I shed my patterns,
Making room to gather more.
The war paint doesn’t stop at the face,
It runs down like fragranced snow,
Soaking my collar through.
My delicate little secrets
Never wash away.
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 11:35 PM UTC
A dark line snakes along the shoreline
Vanishing into a towering temple
Home to the finest Michelin cuisine
The ravenous crowd awaits, raven-clad, fangs out.
Chef Yukinosuke’s obnoxiously fragranced guests
Survived his expertly orchestrated dinner with death
They devoured his fugu main course, without remorse
******* with a familiar demon, gatekeeper to hell
Muffled screams can be heard behind the rice paper curtain
A clamor of voices arises, one can hardly maintain
The merciless knives wielders, red lips kissing bone
Eternally insatiable of sins they can’t atone
For. Yukinosuke adjusts the nori bond
Of this new victim, his room will be fond
One poised drop of noir caviar in her navel
Her scaled-tail undulates, tale-tell
Signs of her struggles before slaughter.
Queen of the seven oceans served with a side
Of whipped up seaweed cream from the tide
Her breast perspiring under a life-like lotus flower.
Before her, watering mouths stare in disbelief
***** men eye her perfectly tamed skin
A woman sadistically touches her finger to her shin
Yukinosuke’s knife glistens, still free from grief.
Marred mermaid munched at midnight
Lusterless tuffs of salt-streaked hair
Vanished into thin air.
A trampled on silky red ribbon in lieu of a gag
Remains. Her turquoise scales to be made into a bag.
April 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 6:13 AM UTC