"garnets" poems
As the violet of day
draws to a close...
Witnessed the dwindling
vermillion sun,
being swallowed
by the horizon.
Ever so slowly,
seconds stretched...
This moment here...
Captured...
and
froze.
Brushing off
the indigos
and
blues.
of the past,
Whilst I shed these
scarlet tears.
Burdened with
unfounded speculation
and fears.
Gifted the
lease of bravery
but I know...
it wouldn't last.
A final skirmish
between
night and light.
My crimson wings
spread to greet the.
green evening air.
Feather and wind.
spoke to each other;
quivered as if
the same story
they shared.
A conversation
that ended quickly before
both took
flight.
To the
highest heavens,
leaving a
trail of leaves
from days of
yellow...
Flying past the
blushing orange cheeks
of
sleeping clouds.
Evading the beckoning
of
night's curtains
and
shrouds.
Into the sun,
I would go.
Beyond world's end,
I would follow...
To find you
where the universe
would run its course.
I'd gladly soar through
spectrum's grain,
Through
unfamiliar realms
and
warped new planes.
Why?
Because
blood red
rubies
pump
through mine
and
garnets
flow
through yours...
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 2:38 PM UTC
Aquarius ♒️
~~~~~~~
Aquarius the symbolism for the water carrier.
Quite an important member of our community
Under spells by an association of the heart
Aquarian crystals are Garnets and Amethyst
Rainbow moonstone, Labradorite, Magnetite
I would buy thee Lithium Quartz ,Moss agate.
Under your care placing Crysoprase n Cryolite
Some Rainforest Jasper for love of this lady.
~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip
December 18th 2018.
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 2:27 AM UTC
Capricorn ♑️
~~~~~~~~
Capricornian don’t mind me. I can’t live as you.
As you have the highest of standards always.
Peridot,Garnets, Agate or Turquoise to wear
Ruby’s grace a beautiful young maidens hair.
I can see the jewels in your eyes as you smile.
Carnelian stones or Malachite for soul healing
Or Jet ,Smokey Quartz or shiny Black Onyx.
Red Garnets,Blue Aragonite,Green Tourmaline
Nonsuch is the birth symbol ,graceful as thee
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
December 19th 2018.
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 8:34 PM UTC
Matrimonial stars in aisles of Auroral rainbows. Mizzling rays of twilights, arraying bays with skylines of lucent waves.
A plethora of scarlet roses reposed in florid clouds. Ashore the Giddy ocean in a gentle motion, caressing Mali garnets, mirroring effulgent lights, kissing the mountaintops before refulgent nights.
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 8:04 AM UTC
there is a tree
growing in this
womb
its roots cracking
from fissured earth
the trunk, in layers
unwrapping
sprouting solid
from ancient rebirth
Breathing light
into branches,
unfurling -
not always
with ease, yet
always in a rising,
not always in comfort
but in the end
a widening,
lit horizon
of past blood lining shed
of crimson cycles renewed
of old patterns,
gone and dead
of mosaic seedlings strewn
and now before
sacred eyes
a photosynthesis occurs
revealing leaflets, tender
reaching into
grounded universe
I am a star-system
a stellar orbit landscape
a singing cosmic rune
a ring of phosphate fire
under tourmaline moon
rubies, garnets, onyx
all pouring from this
innermost, feminine cavern
liquid gold, in lava form
precious metals,
a righteous storm
wild dancers
around the blaze
swaying magic
in midnight haze
and here I stand,
in uterine gleam
the fruit of my soul
the queen
of my
dream
Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 4:51 PM UTC
Jamming jellyfish
Top-Me
((Giddy App Seahorse))
The horseradish on
my lap______
The jolly Jelly
Gefilte Fish
Little help from my friends
How we click the laptop
One dent to Deceive me
The Rock and Rolling
Stomach his smoke went
Like *** Cheese)
he leaves me
The spicy tongue map
Z-Top Zany Chilli Pepper____
your # tap dance tap
Italian top of
the cheese designer skirt
The outskirts of Naples
Her sweet dimples, please
The Islands of Sicily
So many Cheese forms
Terms of Endearment
Mama Mia Murano-Positano
Her lips of Romano Cheese
(To Top Me) Challenge me
Cheese doesn't mix
with cappuccino,
she's the Capri
Ala Denti
Cheese Wiz chair
Mediterranean Wines
Bear men doing low
sips of time
the grisly(Z) pour
The car smelled like
Flight (Top Me) Swiss air
Meet Dominique
How it went La Cirque
Anti Christ Devil Red-bed
cheese mystique
SOS to their notes
PS the junk car in
Midas the makeover
Make-up artist counter
Clinique
I could paint over your hood
Creamy mind put at ease
He's so displeased
New castle disease
Mingling social disease
She's so infectious
ZZ- Top me rock me
Eyes bloodshot you got me
And nevertheless
With twelve and V
V- Vamps tramps
and 14 karats
The French Lieutenant
Mistress Brie with heavy
bite teeth like garnets
Cher turning back time
The burlesque striptease
Come back little Sheba
Z Top Queen of Sheba
I know it's coming soon____?
All Tight claustrophobic
The tight squeeze
Him speaking
Mandarin Oranges
The British Colony
Unique Chinese languages
Her hills, San Francisco
Jack Nicholson
Comedy of China town
The American Women
Smile cheese at the Disco
The food Cantonese
style
Z muscles Hercules
Joan Rivers
Fashion Police
The Cheese of Portuguese
Its the meat market
With his nifty thrifty Neice
All Socrates
(Gromet and Cheese)
Those Brooklyn
workers
The Falcon Matese____*
More cheese Z-Top
Who could ever top
The string cheese
Silken strings became
to rest, I rest my cheese
What cheese fascinates you
Tell me?
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 9:12 AM UTC
My brush is full of
fall-in-love hues.
cinnamons and cardamom,
rich garnets buried inside rocks
that have yet-to-be cracked
open.
my hand is full of
tiny thoughts,
the color leather & lapis
lazuli,
where the south is leaning up her chin
to give the north a kiss.
I'm going to
present you with the colors
like a row of
exotic spices-
expensive, condensed, the palate,
this palette,
of every world I can see you
in.
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 4:57 PM UTC
*C'etait vraiment une belle soirée,
la plus-que parfait soirée de toute ma vie.
C'etait un soir amaranthine.*
I have seen God,
and he is pistons on iron.
Grey-blue eyes, saltwater pools.
That squeelin' a'screechin whimperin' whinin' hydraulics,
Can you feel the hydraulic boom-boom bass-bass..
He is a man crying "Hey,"
he is a woman selling jewelry
he is wraps and rounds, garnets that glow,
he is 'Tree Fort' musically meditating with meditating musicians,
he is a writer writing in the woods,
he is burning paolo santo,
he is iced off dose,
real European ****
(Boom, boom. Bass, bass.)
he is Scorpio sun signs sun shining,
he is a man's heart shining.
Won't you look at all these hearts,
really have a look at them,
and tell me that they aren't the most
**beautiful
creative
spirited**
hearts that you've ever seen?
Scorpio, I love you. I really did love you. And how I've loved you since.
*It was truly a beautiful party,
the most beautiful party of my whole life.
It was a night amaranthine.*
Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 7:45 PM UTC
Crystal beads of sweat
It's the beginning of a flood
Their translucence reveals an anguish
That is growing underneath
Causing them to swell
A great heaviness pulls
There is no resistance
They start a lowly journey
Moved in surrender to greater will
As the purest heart crumbles
One drop follows after another
Forming glistening streaks
Along a spotless brow
The tender heart soon shatters
Under the weight of woe
Drops fall to the ground
Like glistening shards of crystal
Where the beads first surfaced
A single crimson drop forms
It slowly paints a stripe
Down that stainless skin
It rolled along the hairline
Over the cheekbone to the jaw
In a moment of uncertainty
It clung there at the edge
With no alternative to release
The final hold was given up
Like a rose petal it fluttered down
Gently landing in dampened earth
Where sweat and tears first fell
At this silent touch of crimson
Broken crystal drops transformed
Color slowly deepening
Dirt glittering with garnets
Each hearts' filth was covered
But their purity had this stain
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 4:07 PM UTC
It is important to add just enough
of the lemon skin:
Too little and the cake is crushingly sugary sweet;
without the sharp texture that tickles the back of my throat
and brings on the threat of a sneeze.
Too much and the tiny yellow pieces-
like gold, like garnets, like tiny crystallized pieces of the sun,
like summer -my youth-
can overwhelm all else with the sharpness of tears, sour and bitter.
Smell is the sense
Most closely related to our memories
It should be sight -
I can teach my eyes to see anything.
I grind the lemon carefully against the grater
releasing summer in a rush of yellow
too heady for me.
and stare out the window through the pane.
If I focus hard enough, I can pretend I see
your suitcase was only a briefcase
as you hurried down the path,
and the giant lemon tree in the front yard
was budding soft white stars of scent.
But the smell of golden pith springing from the grater
prompts the memory of pendulous fruit dropping to the ground instead –
the wanton tree already ********** for spring’s touch.
The grater grinds against my knuckles
a drop of blood falls into the batter.
I am reminded again that
only the best fruit will hang too close to the thorns,
only the theft that is given makes us bleed.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 9:31 PM UTC
They come in gold and silver,
Twinkling lights, gem-filled eyes
Of diamonds and critines,
Dotting this night scene with life.
I don't know where they'll go,
But with each pair passing,
Time went so, so slow.
Stones against my bloodied feet,
Cutting at these pulsating streams.
Tarmac, tar black
Laced with that sacred red.
I don't know how much further I can go,
The shards only dig deeper,
The lights are losing their glow.
They left with stains of crimson,
Apathetic silhouettes slinking in the night,
In a trail of shattered garnets,
Past the corpse of death's bride.
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 8:26 PM UTC
i felt miserable,
the crushing self rejection,
that a lover cannot fix,
the acceptance of being what broke you before.
but,
i stopped,
and realized i wasn’t alone,
for i was surrounded by garnets.
Twinkling, beautiful, crimson friends.
maybe it’s not so bad after all
Feb 1, 2021
Feb 1, 2021 at 4:44 PM UTC
Rattle the orchard’s knotted limbs
and harvest from the fray,
forsaken garnets snared in doubt,
betrothed to blind decay.
Tune your soul to the air of expectance
that wavers in the grass…
of smoke sewn into ripened groves
as hours straddle past.
The whip of wings atop the hollow
trumpets the waning year…
a song unwritten, once laid by,
reborn and shuttled near.
The Lord entwines His hand with ours
fastened to our lives
and plucks us each, while bruised and marred
as a lone protected prize.
A thousand candles pierce the shutters
tethering our stride.
The Spirit sounds a lifelong score
that tugs us to His side.
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 7:17 PM UTC
Strange,
not quite garnets.
I strayed and went garnets once and stayed.
I like being garnets,but had to rearrange my life
and file back in to the pack,
playing cards are like that.
Now in situ a suit suits me,but I still see
garnets everywhere.
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 7:05 AM UTC
I said I hated flowers,
yet you gave me bouquets.
I said I hated sappy messages,
yet you wrote me essays.
I said I hated poems,
yet you wrote me sonnets.
I said I hated jewels,
yet you gave me garnets.
I know you mean well,
but, in this dazzling palace,
my heart shall not dwell.
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 8:53 AM UTC
The trees in the winter months
Branches laden with sparkling snow
Like little diamonds reflecting in the sun
Dressed but nowhere to go.
Berries dappled on bushes on hedgerows
Tucked safely where the wind doesn’t blow
Like rubies and garnets on the bushes fingers
Dressed but nowhere to go.
Fairies dancing in the midnight moonlight
Providing a spectacular floor show.
Lacy cobwebs for table cloths and spun specially
Dressed but nowhere to go.
The winter is almost upon us
Spices enrich Christmas bread dough
Icing drips neatly onto the floor in puddles
It is dressed but nowhere to go.
I however have my glad rags on,
My painted face, rich ruby lips and so
With my sequins, high heeled shoes
I am painting the town red and raring to go.
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 10:11 AM UTC
The trees in the winter months
Branches laden with sparkling snow
Like little diamonds reflecting in the sun
Dressed but nowhere to go.
Berries dappled on bushes on hedgerows
Tucked safely where the wind doesn’t blow
Like rubies and garnets on the bushes fingers
Dressed but nowhere to go.
Fairies dancing in the midnight moonlight
Providing a spectacular floor show.
Lacy cobwebs for table cloths and spun specially
Dressed but nowhere to go.
The winter is almost upon us
Spices enrich Christmas bread dough
Icing drips neatly onto the floor in puddles
It is dressed but nowhere to go.
I however have my glad rags on,
My painted face, rich ruby lips and so
With my sequins, high heeled shoes
I am painting the town red and raring to go.
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
Every poem is a gemstone
Every word a jewel
Set in silver, or in gold
Our muses bring renewal.
They convey. They have their say
In amethyst or beryl.
They are Bisbee turquoise
Or luminous as pearls.
Ruby smoulders, garnets dark
Gems from 'round the world.
Some are facets emerald green,
Some are for our ears.
Some are fashioned for the throat
Some aquamarine tears.
Some black onyx pendants
To play upon our fears.
Rings to place on fingers
For friendship or engagement.
Some are placed in
Deep dark drawers
As tokens of estrangement.
But no matter how
They're placed
'Tis meaningful arrangement.
Topaz golden moments
Pirite is for fools
But ALL poems are diamonds
All of them are JEWELS.
SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
11/23/2020
Nov 24, 2020
Nov 24, 2020 at 1:25 AM UTC
Reaching for the gib opening
Of deep-dug dirt
I lay,
With sleeping sickness wrapped around my ears
And white oak stains my hands
Till dawn,
I run;
Away in search
Of waking minds to release
The cracked shells of hope
Falling into deep desolate moans
Flighty love
That bury its self on shells of **** skin
Please find the pain in my light that
Roam your heart
And scatter the city,
Blood red sky
Drip cries upon
Our land
Grab the scars below my feet
And blisters on my shins
Before they fall under the cemented graves
Of brick ****** mornings
Reaching for you
The bitter less shells cracks with our knuckles
The steel walls are closing in
How I miss the comfort of my home
A weary morning our eyes meet
Upon casted light
I thought the curves of my spin fit gently
Between the knots of your brass knuckles
Don't look at me like a beamed drivel on a drooling Sunday
Not a line of soaring gloom or penultimate light
Paint dripping from under garnets home
Reflection on tyrants open cascade
Beauty not a mortifying sound
But distant memory
So daintily
As a striving romance
Have tied up
Naked on bare raft
Sends flakes of fossil romance
Prickles some type of silence under window blocks
And my raft light is forgotten
Pleading like a merciful sin
Bloomed where you're born
Blue moon hovers over
Ocean dust
Circling around pitiful rings
To throw in the barbecued fire
Silently vile mercurous sun
My body can't forget your name
I remind myself while lust gets the better of us
Leaving what you run from;
I ran into
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 12:04 AM UTC
Were I to have a queen,
I would adorn her
lavishly,
South African Diamonds
littered with Brazilian Emerald
and Oriental Topaz,
but I don’t, so I give her
onyx and garnets –
Were I to have a queen
She would dine, exquisitely
Caviar and Champaign
Filet Mignon with delicate wild sprigs
Hand-crafted sorbets sprinkled with fresh ground cocoa
but that is not the case,
so we eat frozen burritos and fruity pebbles –
Were I to have a queen
her fines would be worldly
Chinese silks and English cobbled shoes
flowing lace with ruffled fringe
cotton and satin depending on conditions
but I am just a regular guy
and offer flannel and polyester blends –
Were I to have a queen
she would never want for attention
I would constantly remind her of her beauty and grace
express endlessly my undying love and adoration
offer my hand at each puddle and open every door
but I do not have a queen,
I have a wife that I treat this way –
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 11:15 AM UTC
garnets and emeralds
the pretty girl
puts on some blusher
from her compact case
on it is an image
just like her
a pre-raphaelite print
this girl scans the sky
her eyes always above
she watches the planes
go out and come back
for she counts them all
one by one
is her guy up there?
or is he missing?
she remembers him
and cares for his comrades
the girl who counts the planes
for she loves all the crew
not just pilots
as much as she loves her land
the girl who counts planes
how many failed to return?
there's a ring on her finger...
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 11:56 AM UTC
As a child I sat & searched
For rubies in the sand
I looked for blood red garnets
From the dirt within my hand.
I would look for hours
For a treasure trove of lies
I thought I'd be a millionaire
I wasn't all that wise.
Then I found a nugget
Of pyrite buried there
It was really Fool's Gold
But I didn't care.
Childhood is fleeting
So don't break it to your babe
That her cup of "rubies"
Won't buy a pauper's grave.
She'll dream herself a castle
In some foreign land
But the waves of growing up
Take the rubies in the sand.
SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
1/22/2020
Jan 24, 2021
Jan 24, 2021 at 7:24 AM UTC
Don't say I am confusing
Don't make your indecision my fault
You are a boy
Chest hair does not make you a man
And I have gardens growing
In the palms of my hands
You know
It takes time to grow
I am slow
I am stone
You hammered me
Expecting me to shatter
But smart girls carve themselves
Out of diamonds
Garnets
Rubies
Stop pretending as if you've broken something
You barely scratched the surface
Simply clouded it with your breath
(It was probably time for a polish anyway
Thanks for the reminder)
Tomorrow I will shine
I am stone
You will not erode me
Nose, fingers, ears
Cold to the touch
Shivers through my shoulders
Do not ask if I'm okay.
Do not assess the fullness of my schedule
Do not keep the news from me
Because I'm "too busy"
You are a coward and
I am empowered
Your judgement is wrecked
If you truly think you have that affect
Stop trying to make your weakness look like mine
I am stone
Stop apologising
Thinking I'll be empty now
All that's empty
Is your words
I'm solid the whole way through
Your weak little lungs could not
Blow me down
You wish you were the Big Bad Wolf
The previous was a stick figure
And the one before
Had hair like hay
I am brick
I am stone
So huff and puff away
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 8:41 AM UTC
Skin like milk in a tall clean glass
With eyes like green garnets and hair to her ***
Ruby in color like a flag in the breeze
Lips matching perfectly, posture a tease
No ring on the finger not a care in the air
I figured shed notice if I continued to stare
I slowly approached as if I had something to say
She looked me dead in the eyes and said no, not today
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 8:43 AM UTC
Our souls wander
Lost in the dark.
The ruin laughter squander.
Death brings the storms,
storms bring garnets
With a blood red shine.
Mar 1, 2019
Mar 1, 2019 at 8:59 AM UTC