"freshened" poems
When you plunged
The light of Tuscany wavered
And swung through the pool
From top to bottom.
I loved your wet head and smashing crawl,
Your fine swimmer's back and shoulders
Surfacing and surfacing again
This year and every year since.
I sat dry-throated on the warm stones.
You were beyond me.
The mellowed clarities, the grape-deep air
Thinned and disappointed.
Thank God for the slow loadening,
When I hold you now
We are close and deep
As the atmosphere on water.
My two hands are plumbed water.
You are my palpable, lithe
Otter of memory
In the pool of the moment,
Turning to swim on your back,
Each silent, thigh-shaking kick
Re-tilting the light,
Heaving the cool at your neck.
And suddenly you're out,
Back again, intent as ever,
Heavy and frisky in your freshened pelt,
Printing the stones.
25.6k
Initiate our souls into the light
Flamingo yes your hue is burning bright
Your colors lighting up the night
We migrate out of darkness within you
Enlighten us to heal our weary hearts
To be with love and never to depart
Appreciating brand new starts
Your beauty resonates us deep within
We want nothing more than with you to be free
To fly away from stress along with thee
Our wings could only hope to grow
As beautiful as yours unfold
You are the breath of freshened air
Our spirits call to breathe repair
In my memory of you I see poise
Noticing your stance without a noise
Perfectly still you are seen
Tranquil in life's pond so serene
As we pass through to become in ourselves
Teach us how to become nothing else
Than the magnetic beautiful creatures
Spirit designed with every feature
We are a gift to the flowing
Always coming always going
There never seems to be enough
Time in the universe thereof
To take a moment to enjoy
And therefore we destroy
This is an ode to your sweet nature
A song of love and light not danger
A memory we are creating
A vibrant show of figure skating
In the circle of acceptance now
Our wings are rising up to bow
Take in the scenery with deepened breath
Never afraid of shaking hands with death
For we are peaceful and at rest
Knowing we always do our best
A true beginning has no end
Drinking from life as we befriend
The journey of our soul path
In a spiritual rose bath
Amen
© tHE tERRY tREE
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 1:10 AM UTC
skies darker than midnight
eyes wider than owl
freshened grasses beneath us
splattered stars above us
let's gaze up
help them find their way to each other
link those twinkles into constellations
our fingers intertwined
as thoughts wander about
green pupils unseen
we're no longer nocturnal
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 3:01 PM UTC
I
Go on, high ship, since now, upon the shore,
The snake has left its skin upon the floor.
Key West sank downward under massive clouds
And silvers and greens spread over the sea. The moon
Is at the mast-head and the past is dead.
Her mind will never speak to me again.
I am free. High above the mast the moon
Rides clear of her mind and the waves make a refrain
Of this: that the snake has shed its skin upon
The floor. Go on through the darkness. The waves. fly back
II
Her mind had bound me round. The palms were hot
As if I lived in ashen ground, as if
The leaves in which the wind kept up its sound
From my North of cold whistled in a sepulchral South,
Her South of pine and coral and coraline sea,
Her home, not mine, in the ever-freshened Keys,
Her days, her oceanic nights, calling
For music, for whisperings from the reefs.
How content I shall be in the North to which I sail
And to feel sure and to forget the bleaching sand ...
III
I hated the weathery yawl from which the pools
Disclosed the sea floor and the wilderness
Of waving weeds. I hated the vivid blooms
Curled over the shadowless hut, the rust and bones,
The trees likes bones and the leaves half sand, half sun.
To stand here on the deck in the dark and say
Farewell and to know that that land is forever gone
And that she will not follow in any word
Or look, nor ever again in thought, except
That I loved her once ... Farewell. Go on, high ship.
IV
My North is leafless and lies in a wintry slime
Both of men and clouds, a slime of men in crowds.
The men are moving as the water moves,
This darkened water cloven by sullen swells
Against your sides, then shoving and slithering,
The darkness shattered, turbulent with foam.
To be free again, to return to the violent mind
That is their mind, these men, and that will bind
Me round, carry me, misty deck, carry me
To the cold, go on, high ship, go on, plunge on.
5k
Four white walls adorned with posters.
Jimi Hendrix, Pink Floyd and an odd cluster
of animals and dinosaurs.
and a strange man relaxing his pores.
I could learn something from this
The wall space around Van Gogh
is lined with empty cigarette boxes.
A constant reminder of life shortening though
they encircle the skull like rabid foxes.
I've lost count of how many I've smoked
The carpet is littered with stains.
A reminder of past strains.
Even industrial shampoo
will not fade the marks scarred into.
I've been here too long
The drawers are a symbol of a cluttered mind.
Nothing is organized. but anything is an easy find.
Random thoughts make the air stale.
Only freshened by the 3pm arrival.
Its just junk and coupons
Its difficult to balance all these things out
without a feminine touch to soothe.
A soft laughter to rile the doubts.
Another pair to line with my shoes.
I'll be with you one day Caroline
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 4:58 AM UTC
Red.
Like parting lips,
Shushed kisses.
Like high school varsity jackets.
Orange.
Like the shirt you wore
The day we met.
Like my least favorite color.
Yellow.
Like the lemonade,
So sour we spit it out.
Like summers we spent together.
Green.
Like minty gum,
Newly freshened mouths.
Like the grass I lost my innocence on.
Blue.
Like the pen I used
To write your love letters.
Like all the times we've cried.
Indigo.
Like bruises, covered
By jeans high on hips.
Like the nights we stained with lust.
Violet.
Like every single thought
Led back to you.
Like even the spectrum had thoughts of you.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 10:53 AM UTC
The hiker cannot dwell there long,
concealed on a high gull-lined cliff,
overlooking the grey of the Sound.
Framed in a solemn March day,
two curiously juxtaposed species hold her gaze.
Silent as a fawn she watches
a black wolf beneath her arboreal outpost,
hunched in the fashion of Asian street vendors,
observing the other creatures.
Great humpbacks frolic in icy waters ---
spouting volcano plumes of spray
that catch the freshened wind ---
riding white-capped waves,
till entropy dissolves their mist to atomized brine.
Whale-song, too distant for the hiker's gentle ears,
comes rolling in tsunami-like
to the aurally attuned wolf,
which ***** its head and nods
in musical agreement with the odes.
Then little lupine brother
rears back his head and howls,
so sorrowful a moan, as she has ever heard ---
answering his water-brethren,
hunters of krill upon the seas.
Giggling at the incongruity of this lone celebrant
singing pack-songs to leviathans,
she hurries on her way,
lone wolf herself returning to the pack.
Jul 15, 2012
Jul 15, 2012 at 10:12 PM UTC
Trampled, yanked from their roots, strewn across the dirt;
A single, beautiful rose lay, treated as lowly as the soil beneath,
Loses sight of its true worth and perfection,
Amongst the several other damaged "objects".
Used and abused in manners undeserved, yet she still perseveres.
Replanted, freshened, and dusted off, she stands *****
Portraying beauty and elegance, others do not see the damage;
Yet it is visible to me, as clear as day are the harsh conditions endured.
And so is her strength, to bear another day.
And so is her worth, deserving of more than the world can offer,
Or that I can muster; I'll try my hardest to give her everything.
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 10:30 PM UTC
Jumping over the dark mahogany railroad ties that my father laid down as a barrier, I entered my favorite place. Bare toes and rough feet of my 9 year old self burrowed with joy into the wood chips that cushioned my kingdom.
The entire area smelt of damp, rich wood, always freshened by the honeysuckles sweet scent from their lazy seats on their wooden fence in the background.
My castle was wooden as well, 6 carefully and lovingly sanded steps up onto the throne where I could watch all I reigned: my dog, the four railroad ties barricading the wood shavings from spilling into the soft green grass, I could see my family inside, my house not but a quick dash away.
As the sun set, down the wooden slid and back onto the damp ground I would return inside. Smelling of bark, honey, and innocence.
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 12:38 PM UTC
The storm passes, winds once upliften have spent their embrace
and Nature calls anew to the ripening surges, budding grass once slumbered burst to life
while birds in willful glee dance the verge, whistling delight
to drink the freshened Air, our thundering night torn through the wastes
or swept swiftly along, kissed the Earth in glance of praise-
Our glad meeting, greeting and raucus entreating.
Here calls like clarion tones, like silver bells, attuned for an ascending climb
and scale of seeming or believing, less tightly held to vagrant wishing
but embraced in sight of sure horizons, traveling on like Osprey on the hunt
or Otter dove for the rivulet streams our minds intend, or hands direct-
a tinkling on the wire, vision, strength against the currents of our times
two matched in each, Above/Below...corresponding on.
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 1:35 PM UTC
that I ran into my friend Vic was a good thing
because we leaned on the shadowy cars and he gave me
some new words: Faith, Reconciliation, Continuance.
But driving home, they began to fill me up with grief
so I tossed them out the window like a finished cigarette.
And I went down to talk to the creek, who was filled with a grief
of her own, a grief of too much water having fallen
in too few days. And she had me dash my empty beer bottles
against her tortured stones that night, had me make
the shrill cry of a hawk as I let each one fly.
And with each crash she gave me back my former words,
my old & tarnished words, the fs and ts
honed sharp enough to really hurt somebody bad. And sharp
enough to hack a trench into my chest, so the water could roll in
like freshened blood, roaring the way it roars against
the creekstones: girl you're alive, alive, alive . . .
I call the creek a woman because she had a woman's wisdom,
a woman's bitter tears, even had the housewife's old cliché
about how all love ends in either death, or separation
from those we love. And the creek made me remember
how they want you to believe the only way off the meathook
is by dying first.
She said: *whatever you do, whatever you do
don't let yourself be the one who dies first.*
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 4:00 PM UTC
What desirous riches we crave
to return our destinies
for paradise
sights and nights,
filled with glittering starry portals
And to feel the air of day and night
abound with blissful
restfulness and sleep
Ooh how we
dream
note that dreaded dream
but dreams of peace at rest
Aaaah to
return only within a second
and relearn what nature has to give
and only what we're allowed to take
And to listen to the shakers of the earth
growl their pristine craves
And to feel that solemn rest once more
the return to freshened softened earth around our barefoot
toes
and to regain freedom spatial
b o u n d l e s s n e s s LOST but only
regained at last in dreams reposed...
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 9:34 PM UTC
The moody greys;
The rain that stings;
A thousand random,
Happy things,
That makes me want
To leap and play;
To take in the splendor
Of this cold, wet day,
And revel in it's quiet gloom-
To watch it weave
On it's dampened loom-
For daylight does not at all compare
With this misty, freshened,
Dripping air.
Though all and sundry
Are brought down low
By the gift the heavens
So kindly bestow,
I feel instead Nature's kiss
In this, the weather
I always miss.
So while others may think to complain,
And shake their fists at the falling rain,
The soothing wind doth caress my cheek;
And so, inspired,
I thought to speak-
Of the drought of sun,
And it's absent rays;
And this,
The perfect, rainy day.
But an exaltation,
a prayer to none:
I do not wish this day be done;
Rather I would plead,
Sincere,
To leave this solemn weather here.
Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 4:45 PM UTC
Upon a rock that, high and sheer,
Rose from the mountain's breast,
A weary hunter of the deer
Had sat him down to rest,
And bared to the soft summer air
His hot red brow and sweaty hair.
All dim in haze the mountains lay,
With dimmer vales between;
And rivers glimmered on their way,
By forests faintly seen;
While ever rose a murmuring sound,
From brooks below and bees around.
He listened, till he seemed to hear
A strain, so soft and low,
That whether in the mind or ear
The listener scarce might know.
With such a tone, so sweet and mild,
The watching mother lulls her child.
"Thou weary huntsman," thus it said,
"Thou faint with toil and heat,
The pleasant land of rest is spread
Before thy very feet,
And those whom thou wouldst gladly see
Are waiting there to welcome thee."
He looked, and 'twixt the earth and sky
Amid the noontide haze,
A shadowy region met his eye,
And grew beneath his gaze,
As if the vapours of the air
Had gathered into shapes so fair.
Groves freshened as he looked, and flowers
Showed bright on rocky bank,
And fountains welled beneath the bowers,
Where deer and pheasant drank.
He saw the glittering streams, he heard
The rustling bough and twittering bird.
And friends--the dead--in boyhood dear,
There lived and walked again,
And there was one who many a year
Within her grave had lain,
A fair young girl, the hamlet's pride--
His heart was breaking when she died:
Bounding, as was her wont, she came
Right towards his resting-place,
And stretched her hand and called his name
With that sweet smiling face.
Forward with fixed and eager eyes,
The hunter leaned in act to rise:
Forward he leaned, and headlong down
Plunged from that craggy wall;
He saw the rocks, steep, stern, and brown,
An instant, in his fall;
A frightful instant--and no more,
The dream and life at once were o'er.
1k
There's a gentleness so tender,
In her heart's Hearthstone fender,
Coming from my Mother's heart alone;
It doesn't matter the occasion,
That a spark of love invasion;
Never pausing, so tenderly has shone.
For you're God's plan from heaven,
For your tender heart like leaven,
To hasten and mix your heart below;
For it doesn't matter where you find her,
There's always something so sweet about her,
Wonder touch, her Mother touch, that I know.
Flowing laughter sweetly sounds all the day long,
Singing the sweetest bird song,
Cheering and hugging every hour;
Then she goes to her quiet retreat,
For her hour of prayer so sweet;
A secret of her sweet nature and willful power.
Soul of my Mother, colourful like a tapestry,
The love of my Mother is as boundless as the sea,
Freshened like a flower with its dew;
For love showers will embrace her,
God smiles from Heaven above to bless her
And her life is ever shining and true!
~Marian~
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 11:56 AM UTC
My life it is so busy these days
I need to save time where I can
So to shave off a few minutes here and there
I've come up with a master plan
Astronaut underwear
That's just a given
How much time that's going to save
I need not even mention
I'm going to wear my glasses below my nose
That way my nose for itself can see
Whether it needs picking or not
That's going to save my finger and me a lot of grief
Soap on a rope will go around my neck
I'll bathe in sinks as I get ripe
To save on minutes and energy
I'll do one pit at a time
I'll pull out my agua blue polyester leisure suit
That I've saved from the 70's
I'll wear it all the time, even to bed at night
Those suckers stay wrinkle free
My toothbrush I'll paste up and place in my mouth
When I hop into bed for a good nights sleep
In the morning I'll be all freshened and brushed
From a night of grinding my teeth
I even got the brilliant idea
One night while watching my dog
A device on his rear so he can mop
While he scratches his **** across the floor
These are just a few good ideas
I'm sure I'll think of more
Once I have all this spare time
Sitting around bored outta my gourd
Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 7:35 AM UTC
*unfailing clockwork come,
no surcease tendered from its
onerous, regulated,
on-time scheduled,
yet, untimely demands
arise to serve,
serve the sentence,
the sentence of
"out, out,"
whether candle or spot,
but there be no out,
damnable or otherwise
flailing words,
uttered no matter how,
the burden of the inexorable
is freshened daily,
yet horribly unchanged
failing words,
dent not the injustice of,
the condemnation of,
tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
for if the play's the thing,
this thing,
on the morrow,
performed eight times a week,
the sound and the fury
of applause fading,
a chiming of intermission ending,
the sets struck,
yet the tick of tomorrow,
is but the tock,
the switch off
of today
that
Doesn't Work
the script, well memorized,
it's mastery demands perfunctory performance,
and
an ending that sates,
but playwright,
none provides,
his woeful signature
his pas de coup,
signifying
that tomorrow returns faithfully,
desirious of its unfulfilled dissatisfaction,
for it kens none other
though calling out,
"out, out,"
but there be no out*
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 4:25 PM UTC
You came in the room, freshened up my coffee
dipped your head to my shoulder, said you felt so happy
turned on the tv, laying on your couch
under cream colored blankets and drinking whiskey
the rain had finally started falling
I kissed your neck and said you're everything
I kissed your cheek and said don't ever leave me
how can this all feel so easy
my tortured past felt so hazy
you looked down at me with amorous eyes
lazy, wide, searching for me inside
I touched the sunburn on your chest
warm and bare, then exposed the rest
I'd like to remember the way you looked that night
dancing around in the bright kitchen light
singing wildly as you cooked
you grabbed me round the waist and pulled me
close to your body and said you missed me
I won't ever forget the way you touched me
I threw my head back and felt the ecstasy
you pushed my hand back and fell silently
into my body like the rainfall, softly
cascading down the window next to me
I never want the rain to stop
please don't ever let this rain stop
Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 12:36 PM UTC
I am undone -
resonating, thrumming
with feelings out of time.
Suffused with the scent
of orange, clove and cinnamon.
The house on Folgate Street
has me, whole,
powerless against an eternity
of mutating, shifting
happenings and moments.
Twice, the black cat followed me.
Dully gleaming fur
reflecting a landscape
of bunched bedclothes,
that it batted
then bunched some more.
Between the rooms,
landings captured me -
miniature palaces
hung with candied fruits
and mercurised pools
where I dove in naked longing
into both our pasts.
Huguenot shadows
writhed and climbed,
in faded effervescence.
The motes permitted not to utter
a word of breath.
With freshened eyes
I farewelled an age of deeds
in whispered thanks.
How long I stood at the corner
I cannot say.
Rising from a dream
has never taken so long.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 10:25 AM UTC
I had been so tense
That I could not sustained or thrive
My heart was literally broken
That I was not able to survive.
My life was clueless
That's because I have had no bless
I seemed to committed the worst sin
The sin was that to others I was so mean.
But when I came to thy feet
I always get from you a warm greet
You have also freshened my mind
By the verse in you I have find.
It is you the unique literature of the universe
You made me able to express my own verse.
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 10:16 AM UTC
she slips away like fine thread
Between my fingers she falls
I still manage to pull her back
After all these years of searching in the wrong places
She kisses me
Every kiss freshened
By: Leory Santana Dawn
Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 2:20 PM UTC
In the morning, I awoke
to find the sword gone from my hip.
My fear seemed foolish,
Even childish,
And as my hand searched for the grip,
I saw my love,
I mean my wife,
As pure as winter in her slip.
I freshened for the occasion,
after closing curtains quick,
to keep the glory of the day
held back for just a bit.
By now I had my sword,
and bow and arrows,
Iron-tipped.
I had twine, and hooks,
And chum from the cooks,
and a solid angler's stick.
If I failed in my hunting,
I could at least catch a fish,
and wake my lover with the aroma
of a breakfast she can’t resist.
Out I went.
Too much time was wasted:
Half the morning out I spent.
I know snow would understand
if summer refused to desist
Just to spend another day
in a sunlight just like this.
So back I went,
Feeling weighted
by the rabbits I had skinned,
Feeling sated by my catch
and the fragrance on the wind.
All the wonders of the forest,
and the bounty found therein,
Made me joyous for my kingdom,
And on my face I found a grin.
In the clearing of the meadow
that we built our castle in,
I met a man,
then a woman,
and it is here this tale begins.
Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 4:15 AM UTC
Impatiently waiting to
Use your only bathroom
I examined the curls
That shaped your hair
From across the room
You were
Exhaustion at best
Tired of me
Worn out from life
Exhausted with your routine
Your roommate finally
Left the bathroom to me
I freshened up
The air was hazy
The towels reeked with ****
I knew we were ending things
I left our aspirations
In the passenger seat
You kissed me goodnight
But I understood that it was goodbye
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 11:31 PM UTC
Your love’s grown cold
As cold as forty below
The frozen air confronts my stair
A thousand tiny knives
Attack my skin and skewer in
Beneath my old fleece coat
They penetrate to my very core
A coldness of no more
A pain I knew when I knew you
As cold as forty below
For all you gave was unending pain
Heartbreak, misery, and woe
Like the cold dry air takes the moisture there
You sapped my hope away
Your love’s grown cold
As cold as forty below
When I met you it was brisk at first
And your freshened mirth slaked my thirst
An arctic spring that masked your hidden glare
But as it fell it froze mid air
And crushed me with its weight
For your love’s grown cold
As cold as forty below
Apr 20, 2011
Apr 20, 2011 at 8:11 AM UTC