"glamoured" poems
Reality is the stage upon which I play the fool & lover.
Delusion is the Act, not knowing one from the other.
The Past, a script,
Memorized to poison the mind.
Hope, a costume,
Worn to keep the heart blind.
Falling into bed,
the curtain raises from the ground.
Quiet whispers in my ear,
house music thrashes loud!
I Perform with passion,
putting faith in my troupe.
Convincing the audience
My story is true.
Scene to scene,
They see no flaw.
Each song & dance
Inspires awe.
In the end my cheeks, they shine,
like all the roses that will fall.
My eyes stay glamoured
with the curtain call.
The lights come up,
The morning sun,
They cheer, they kiss.
But the show is done,
they have had their fun.
It was pleasure, it was bliss.
Take a bow.
I played the Lover for a night.
I am the Fool now.
Exit stage right.
Sep 12, 2012
Sep 12, 2012 at 10:34 AM UTC
We the gentle
Are meant for
Sentimental
For charcoal pencil thumb-smudged skies
Over lamplit rented rooms on the Seine
Moonlight gauzey glamoured eyes
Grimy hands that write paint spin, throw clay,
that grab our grandfather’s violin at all hours of the day and play.
Mad with passion,
starving, raving, gorged on lush love-struck life abundant,
on rain-slicked splendor.
We the gentle
Bend toward each other in salvation as sunflowers turn inward in the absence of sunlight.
Salvation.
It’s all wrong
We do not belong do not belong.
Bloodletting stardust into the vents
Hearts rent and free bleeding
Feeding the over fed
No page or paint, no violin
No romance, no gods here
But Death and Dread.
We the gentle
Get no roses but see red red red with arms outstretched,
Fighting the tide
Soft bodies open minds
Not weak but kind
Once fruit, now rind
We aren’t meant for these times.
Clear eyed and noncompliant,
We who know the essence of Love Defiant,
Truth in muck, truth in starlight,
We feel the press on all ******* sides
To run, to hide
And instead sing, paint, play
Write.
Sep 17, 2025
Sep 17, 2025 at 7:31 AM UTC
A whipped plane, plain to see with the windows up, but down, to be downed by the splendor encompassed only with this type of vastness.
Sitting for hours, silence not for naught but traversing efforts toward closeness to the bringer of Peace. The only.
Dreams are heavy, and comforting when the roads journey takes more tolls and toiling on our souls. We disregard for a while the sipped perfection from whence we came, glamoured for justice to who we became.
Trivial matters none the less, uncovered near Hermit's nest. Blessed to bless, fessed to confess.
A priest to stare, iconic to share a truth-unfair to the tune of the wind in our softened hair.
"As a child I spoke like a child, felt as a child does, but now that I'm older I fear that all's not lost." Once a brain, now to complain of a surrounding so deafened, and dream-less. I take it back; for when dreams strive in equal relation to Justice, the days of golden mussels, and embraced lovingness from our soul's longing will reap.
To be.
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 7:45 PM UTC
blue laser inhabits the space beneath wet eyelids
eyelids catch wayward wings
wings licking nerves in a paranormal
paranormal rythm
film formingashing - skin boils over soft
see the horizon line. freckles rise to meet, formal
japanese businessmen with
crazed expressions
the ease with which
a skull drops
puts the weight on your back: piggyback haunt, glamoured golden
his own raw red lids with their fixed tears magnifying parts of
spoilt milk pools ... depth
scream not; he will murmur you
to sleep
and in that sleep draw eights on your body
spirit of pressure and spirit of luck
search not; your ghosts will never
return your gaze
Dec 14, 2010
Dec 14, 2010 at 4:06 PM UTC
You are a drug to me
Im a passionate jitterbug when you hold me, carelessly falling like a debris, avoiding all casualty
I wanna kiss your lips
Pull you with my tight grips, hold your hips, endlessly killing you with my kiss
Im in love with you
In and through the blues,
Hon, what allure do you have
It got me all stuck and caught through your rendezvous,
slept all sizzled by our paramour
woke up in the morning all so glamoured, your love always felt me so pampered
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 12:15 PM UTC
Chase the emerald fairy
Around the Eiffel Tower of France
Shadows swagger an acid dance
Of Hollywood trances and diamond glances
We’ll spout poetry beneath a glamoured moon amour
Drink whiskey and absinthe by the gallons
And wash it down with the finest wine
Grown from sultry ***** countryside
A poet’s star will drive jealousy mad
In famous graveyards of prostitutes and prose
Our night will be spent in gothic debauchery
Eyes once spoke the tale of flesh and lust
Pouting over torrentially voracious desires
Decadence deceived promises
Bewitched with voluptuous tongue
The playwright types at his typewriter
Typing funeral dirges of sitar and violin duels
The contravention of dawn’s chorus
Erupts behind curtains of pantomimes
Charms lost in the end of magnificent performances
Your whispers in my ear are the last I hope to hear
The last beautiful gasp of breath I hope to hear
Will be your whispers in my ear
(*Death sits before his typewriter
pounding keys in a ravenous lunatic frenzy
electing the end to our story
we have no contribution
only dealt the parts we act upon
and our scripts to speak*)
Oct 17, 2011
Oct 17, 2011 at 5:50 PM UTC
Left on the side of the curb, I watch as glamoured figures march up the steps
I, myself, dressed in an attired elaborate gown to complement my necklace and stark red lips
and eyes
tired from crying
cracked
Leaving the dance, a tall man in a tailored grey suit and tie,
unaware or avoiding me, passes me by
The rain drizzles, waltzing on the pavement and my face
A shadow covers me as the rain stops
Applauding the rain, the thunder claps
Bending down and lifting me, you carry me to your fancy car
and lay me, exhausted, across the seat, covering me with that large coat of yours
Awaking in an unfamiliar room
but strangely unafraid knowing you had brought me here
entirely calm with the knowledge you are near
Walking in with your beautiful charm
I sob heavily as you hug me in your arms
I fall into your warm shirt, crying into your shoulder
You run your fingers through my hair
whispering candied words into my ear
Passions overtake me as I grab your head for a kiss
You roll with me under the covers, a divine bliss
To others, I'm just another pretty face
another porcelain doll to smash on the ground
or tossed away and never found
Boys and men like dolls too.
But I'm not a doll when I'm with you
not another pretty face in the crowd
I am yours, with all my heart, soul and body
My love for you shall never cease
Somehow, I fell in love with a single kiss, your gentle hands caressing my chest
I pull you closer to me, fully obsessed
enthralled by your intense gaze, lustful like others
I stare into them with wonder
Different than the normal man, you captured me with your first glance
that fateful night not long ago by the steps of the dance
this is what love is, inescapable, overwhelming
I need you in my life forever; if only time would stop for us
To stay in your comforting embrace, the only one I trust
I'll be a doll any other time, just not now at this moment
and never with you near my vision's extent
My cracks have healed, my eyes are no longer red
I'll just lie here in your bed
brimmed with joyous love
Oct 21, 2019
Oct 21, 2019 at 5:55 PM UTC
I've been struck through and through,
it's as if a spell has been cast on the substance of my very being,
and it lures me towards you with every passing moment.
My spirit has an attachment now,
and I'm so pleased the one to cast it upon me is you.
You've conjured up every positive emotion at the same time inside,
and I'm only at my full potential when you're around.
An immediate attachment from the hex I'm under,
and I'm forming a new habit of dependence upon your presence,
like my heart has been glamoured because you have me enamored.
When you're gone I feel you still from this enchantment that I'm under,
a wondrous opulence inside of me that can only grow,
and fill me so much that there isn't room for anything else,
all my affections point in one direction,
that flow from me to you by the way you sing your siren song.
This charm has placed a new appeal of allurement,
a fascinating enticement that controls all of my motives,
and tempts me to run to the finish line already.
A seductive illusion that has me captive,
and I don't want to ever let go,
of the magic you've given me,
because my new favorite fairy tale,
is the one we're currently writing.
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 10:29 AM UTC
The golden sun soon was setting,
Waves of light cascading outward,
Round the castle, tall and towered,
And on halls of glass reflecting.
Masked they stood, awaiting the scene,
Before the finely gilded gates,
And through the massive, sturdy grates,
The lady of the night was seen.
Above the castle yard she stood,
A feather gown encased her form,
As wings an angel would adorn,
Her golden hair a shining hood.
A lilac mask concealed her face,
And unto it she now became,
A child's face, but a body dame,
That strode with an elegant grace.
The gates were opened to the crowd,
Proceeding into the estate,
No one dared to ever be late,
To be caught beneath the Night's shroud.
The castle opened unto them.
The hallways sparkled in bright light,
Casting out the hideous Night,
Stalwart there as a star-like gem.
The ballroom was a grand affair,
Tapestry hung from wall to wall,
And hues of light consumed the hall,
Amidst the noble and the fair.
The child-angel proceeded about,
Her guests, the wealthy of the land,
As at the door he stood, not grand,
But wicked in his mask's dark pout.
Cloaked in black from his head to heel,
The man stood imperiously,
As all in his vicinity,
Before the Lord of Night did kneel.
With careful pace, he strode around,
The gala and the frightened crowd,
No longer could they flee the shroud,
That followed him, a hunting hound.
As a hush overcame the throng,
To the lady, he sauntered there,
And gently stroked her golden hair,
As from the walls a haunting song,
Echoed throughout the castle halls,
So he led her onto the floor,
As the sunset shone through the door,
Setting ablaze the sullen ball.
Amid the inferno blazing,
The angel and demon danced there,
Under the nobles' constant stare,
As one parted soul reflecting,
Unto the other, just the same,
One of the deepest, darkest hell,
The other who casts glamoured spell.
They danced, the darkness and the dame.
Though, as the sun began to set,
The child's aspect upon her face,
Within the darkness did now embrace,
The selfsame form that did beget,
The darkness in the castle great,
That danced with the angel, fallen,
Cursed by the darkness befallen,
On the grandeur of her estate.
No more the feathered angel-child,
A black gown of burning ember.
Not one soul can now remember,
The angel from this demon, wild.
Hand in hand, they danced forever,
In the hallways, and through the gate,
Into the forest. Never late,
Was the Night, silent and clever.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 7:16 AM UTC
Calling barren blooming stem
glistening leaf buds singed
with leaf buds to snowy virginity
outside observation buried into dust
bee sunk creaming in every blossom
love embraced ecstatic shiver
golden dust of pollen glamoured bees
remorseless sweet left into whistling wind
May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 6:10 PM UTC
I am the dream that breathes
I am the blur of thoughts
I am the embodiment of harmony as well as chaos
I am a glamoured lie with shadowed truths
I am a reflection of my reality
I am an eruption of expression, a flame born of passion
I am art of life's experience, not a body or object of perverse nature
I am a fragment of knowledge that walks with untapped potential
Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 5:11 PM UTC