"guilded" poems
she had always said
her favorite color was yellow
for the girl with buttery skin and crystal eyes
it seemed rather fitting
yellow was the color of sunshine
and the color of her hair
after it had been bleached by summer
it was the color of the bumblebees
that drank from her favorite flowers
flowers that now
line her grave
she told you
her favorite color was yellow
because she knew you needed someone
radiant with light
to ease the depth
of your own darkness
so she said
when autumn arrived
you could watch the ground
become littered with yellow leaves
together
when you asked what color
lie beneath her skin
she told you it was yellow
she made herself believe
her body was freckled from stardust
and not from the amber glow
of cigarette burns
she still said
her favorite color was yellow
so she could continue being the light
in your colorless world
soon enough
your favorite color was yellow too
but not for the same reasons
she fell in love with it
you only saw yellow vaguely
in the form of teeth
stained from tobacco and too much coffee
smiling grimly through cracked lips
dripping poisoned honey
you guilded the word ¨love¨
with muted ochre lies
and now
she no longer feels the warmth
that once emanated
from her favorite color
she no longer tastes
the sweetness of butterscotch
and papaya on your lips
for you left her with nothing but
the sour residue of lemons and bile
as your gentle breath
extinguished her golden flames
and reduced her heart to ash
and now
she realizes that bumblebees
can also administer a piercing sting
and as she watches the sunset
with its amber hues
she no longer sees
the color yellow
x.
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 12:14 AM UTC
green hills, rolling green
i like you
with fresh dewy innocence
you speak in hushed voices.
your sides are guilded
with coral white
your tops are crowned with clouds.
green hills, rolling green
i like you for the majesty
you wear your verdant vestment
forever stretched your arms to the blue
forever sheltered by the stars.
green hills, rolling green
tell me, do you like me too?
would that when i harken
to the trumpet call, when there would be
no excuse to tarry
i should lay spattered on thy peaks
first touched by the divine finger
piercing the nimbus mantle.
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 10:54 PM UTC
You will know the house,
Caught up in a spell of tales played out for a century or more
Within earshot of whispering catacombs
*** mortuis in lingua mortua’
You can’t miss it –
Architecturally complex, ornate with ormolu,
Elevated, enigmatic, a work of art.
You’ll be enchanted
But take heed, its façade will beguile you.
There is no sweetness of honeysuckle,
No singing of ascending larks to embolden the heart.
The plot is strewn with hen-bane, stinging nettles, snakeroot.
Generations tell of a skinny hag feeding on innocence,
A path scattered with ashes of children
Whisked away with a broom of silver.
Don’t dare to stray beyond its palisade of porous bones.
Don’t bide your time admiring its guilded thistle.
Appreciate if you will, this well-crafted masterpiece from several angles,
then make a hasty escape to Viktor’s Great Gate at the end of the walk.
copyright © Caroline Grace 2011
Jul 16, 2011
Jul 16, 2011 at 8:56 AM UTC
It's the smells,
The woody, earthy laden lift in the air.
A scent guilded in memories of twigs breaking under feet,
As I walk to the One Stop with my dad,
Wet, amber leaves stuck to his holey shoes,
The air is damp and unfaded, but lightly coated in the smoke from his roll up.
The smell,
More floral now,
Warm, heavy rain drip dropping onto vast leaves in Mexico,
The floor drier and peppery compared to it's English cousin,
My eyes locked onto the stars through pointed dancing clouds,
As if the sky has been dipped in glitter and laid out to dry in the jungle.
And now its moss,
Moss and pine and your hair.
It's both of us gazing through the foliage to catch the eye of a bird,
Our fingers brushing and clinging,
I can feel my mouth lift,
As you pull me towards your nose,
And whisper 'I love us.',
We walk,
Warm in one another's stories,
With wet socks,
And pink cheeks,
We inhabit the trees.
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 7:05 AM UTC
People just don’t get it do they?
PolitiX -
There are no good:
-politics
-politicians
-politicos
-policy
-polices
There is only DISTRACT and TAKE!
If it is bad, fake It good
if its fake, fake it real
if it’s obvious make it someone else’s fault
manipulate details and statistics too
lead the questions,
get the right answers for you
Mass Programmng Media
secret Not Saying Anything service
hide behind our own goods
Freedom these days is all about -
Policing
And the illusion you are in
Control
Politics by its very nature can only exist by divide
the greater the divide
the easier to fraction
easier to fraction
eaier to incite aggression and violence
the resulting fear makes us seek peace
we legislate our freedom away putting hope in lies
the greater the distraction,
the easier the take
Peace is an illusion,
a God-like ideal
A frightened little bird hiding in the bough of a tree
barely out for a second
starving to death
confused
and lonely
because the fear of fear is so great
Political Peace is submission and oppression while convincing you
that its in your best interests not to resist or persist.
You are then provided with a guilded cage
distracted by how different the cage is next to you
or the fence that divides you but you are safe?
All policed by consent
the unmerry road to oppression
begins and ends with distraction and take
all selling illusions of peace and happiness
while selling you out
And YOU are too distracted to notice
YOU are killing your family and neighbors
One fear
One prejudice
One judgement
at a time...
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 8:33 PM UTC
Unrepentant with a hole in her soul
The brass faced liar has steely control
Nothing fazez her. no fib was too big or small. Man this girl was a smooth criminal and a really close acquaintance
She would give a polygraph the shakes
and it's our little secret. umm, Mom and dad know.
family secret.
I reversed engineered the brass faced liar
and all the tumblers clicked.
The truth to her is like Kryptonite to Superman.
I dropped a small stone down her throat one day and counted to ten
before it hit bottom with a far away clunk..
Faceof brass ,heart of stone.animal rescuer
Liar to the bone. Manipulates children poor self esteem
Brass faced liar isn't what she seems.
Out. To impress now.finally starting to dress now
Drawing flys like rotten meat.
Wicked comes in all shapes and sizes
Turn back the covers,know what your surprize is ?.
A zombie in a guilded mask.
Long dead and putrid..a walking talking husk.
Lies pour out of her mouth like green blowflies
And crawl back in under her disguise.
To fester.
Brass face jester
R.I.P.
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 9:24 PM UTC
Tread the line to seek the light, then cry havoc in the dark
As all things that were look up in pallor at the flame filled sky.
These are no mere ramblings, alas, it is palpable rumblings from which you make haste
The great mystery revealed with long streaks of dread and those guilty of...momentary worship
To them, a fate to match their faith
A Tartaric vision to sweep clean the stock houses and to empty thine senates.
With spears of lightning and whips of the sun, the anguish of fact, and doubt of the one.
Those of the fallen are but ashes upon the wind, free from the righteous to bare.
They too do not relish the task, where on Earth is the joy of this judgement.
Only the heroes stand.
There is no Hercules, no Pericles, nor any you'd take for granted to expect
Beneath a final sinking sun, it is the unknown alone who dare to speak.
To call out with their last breaths
To lay a harrowed plea at the feet of the Gods of death.
To cast weary eyes upon the remaining pools of light.
Draw up from here, your wicked rule! No more at the mercy of an Olympian.
Indeed, could mercy truly persist? Have not these ravaging flames feasted with merriment?
Does one not now bare witness?
The shattered shields and broken swords are remnants now of what will be a forgotten world.
The sweet majesty of an unspeakable truth, as if it were guilded with Gold as it rolls back and away from this once sacred place.
Its is here, beyond all calamity.
Blissful lightness of the Heart.
A beauty one's eyes cannot grasp
A freedom to assuage the lust of the free.
The waters of crystal clear tranquility and heart free from all humility.
A God! As they had once been shown.
The aromatic taste of divinity.
The motionless seas in a stasis of perfection
Can you truly know?
To see why your heart first beat?
To find out why a soul became what you call "me"?
There is no time for this and that, only for what is, and time isn't.
Revel in the serenity now, sleep and hope to never wake, it is a dream they chime,
A dream.
The noose of eternity is now but a tread on a finger...a reminder, of what?
I cannot remember.
Sep 28, 2011
Sep 28, 2011 at 2:29 PM UTC
Watch the world from star filled eyes,
Guilded souls with fire on high.
Floating through the cloud bursts,
Lightening striking to enhance the sights.
Golden sunrays,
Black and silver clouds.
The people on the ground dancing like ants,
Birds flying through the air like the swimming fish in the sea.
Hold my hand and we'll take flight,
Just as long as you're with me tonight.
Mar 5, 2010
Mar 5, 2010 at 2:20 AM UTC
Each star glistens to the cadence of my radiant soul.
I am beyond the apogee of any mass.
Feel my glow.
luminescent is my existence.
Vows of peace echo with persistence.
It echoes where time does not command.
Floating through the guilded gate with love in hand.
Purify me with your presence.
Eternal love is your essence.
I feel it now; I knew I would.
Reunited with what is good.
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 5:54 PM UTC
Autumn comes in like a thief
loitering 'till the
Last Summer Wind
comes
Fall has begun
loading a full metal jacket
encased, guilded
in cupronickel & lead
eager to break the will of lively
verdant vistas down
returning their beautiful souls
and gentle spirits
back to hallowed ground
drifting, floating...
quoting, noting
poetic words
unheard
trying to veer, deviate for
shared moments...
off without a sound.
Landing over paths
blowing into heaps
swept by wild winds
from angelic wings
drying, dying
I hear them sighing
Hoping children
will jump in them
smelling the bittersweet of yesterday
raked and burned
they are returned
Sitting in gutters and streams
even in death they dream
in molting piles
all the while
these fading embers...
come September
again remember
they stay within us
burning beauty
until ...
valuable things are given
life again...
come springtime.
Cherie Nolan © 2016
Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 11:52 AM UTC
Cross the distance
Close the gap,
Make a stride traverse a
Infinite chasm.
Every pale replacement
Is a soft lie
Whispered inward
At a truth, a need
To accept that
The otherside has faded to myth;
Fallen to shadow.
Having recall
Of the way oasis feels
With certainty, the grass is greener
Back in the place
Filled with emerald eyes
White teeth smiles,
Skin like guilded earth.
These
Recollections
Made me certain I was touching eternity
When the waves brushed my skin.
There is wordlessness in this knowledge
A sublimity, a divine loneliness
Knowing the expanse that
Divides lands,
Stretching beyond sight, perception, and physicality
Feels like nothing
In the distance between us.
Jan 9, 2017
Jan 9, 2017 at 2:34 PM UTC
A Story of guilt.
Not for him, for us.
Vincent.
Strokes and flicks,
Glides of guilded golds
Hushed in the Blues,
Innocence in the Greens;
Boldly infused oils
Spilling out on a canvas;
A legacy built on
Sorrow. Toil. Turmoil.
Who with dark indents on a page shaded in
Shadows showed
Work. Work, work,
Constant work.
A Starry Night’s muse.
All the while cowards saying they always
Knew,
Always loved,
Always loving
Vincent.
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 8:14 PM UTC
You bear a silver whole,
Opening to a new world of
Scarlets, purples and
Deep royal Blue.
It covers us,
Leads us into temptation,
****** into
You, I throw upon
As I peer into the
Silver and turned
My jagged sword.
It swallowed up all the
Darkness,
The sun appeared -
Rainbows.
Scarlets, purples and
Deep royal blues.
A silver heart to a silver
sword.
Magic..
I am stuck,
Trapped in freedom,
I want no other world
Whether it be of
Diamonds or rubies or pearls.
I have your colours,
Your life.
A sword guilded in
Silver stone that
Medusa encaged.
I do not have the strength
of King Arthur,
And even if I did,
I would let my muscles
Rot than pull away
My precious sword, I
Want it only as an
Exhibition of
My love.
This is my world now,
Whether it be full of
War, Injury or
Death.
It is our land,
It is us.
Jan 20, 2010
Jan 20, 2010 at 7:27 AM UTC
O. Pool raw island or line vineyards
action stripping the shifts in throat lobes
co operative fraction guillotine manual or
glandular matchstick subtracting certain
matching breeds already beneath accidental
mathematics in estrus clothed by fractions
II
Aural syringe laughing lineage captured
glass cultures Where I feel revered by newborn
lands of guilded dementia children from vapor
quartering off portions of soft cornered rockets
off soft dabs of round cornered minaret orders
I fire the buoyant mind with fractioned black butter
III
The hum of fans
the gunboats dealing broadsides
raw meat and bound feet
moon is withered grape
flys gnaw thru our cellophane
intent to devour our brain
The mythical hiss of salted throats
dissolving like fermented aphids
milk amidst the purr of confused
****** onlookers
The Princess of our burlesque
appears with her sun red triplets
Three clairvoyants asleep in their
eggshell bed each with three eyes
one just within the foreheads
Feb 9, 2014
Feb 9, 2014 at 3:32 AM UTC
Was that the Cream which you used to Enjoy
Of Four Sticks seasoned to your Destiny?
How Thoughtful be this State of your Deploy
For Good Arm's Purpose reach your Harmony
And once the Friend - though un-known Titles be
Play this growing Suffrage on your Best Mind
For your Honour's Prevail; Which we can see
Why Un-Holy Mouths must be copped behind
Dive, Honour, Dive! That be Support un-furled
As Stock-Toned Pillars coat this selfless Plead
To misunderstand Sane Meanings up-turned
Else sate our Puddings with Un-Salted Mead.
And the Youth, inspired, still makes Amends
Such would be you which Guilded Growth depends.
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 2:37 AM UTC
Enslaved it seemed
by your guilded charm.
[[Beguiled]]
Could not see through the smoke and mirrors
& of course that was your plan.
It had to be.
It can't be me.
- I must have just caught on.
You took my weapon.
But I stole it back, my sword,
my words by my side.
YOU FOOLED EVERYONE.
BUT I CAN SEE THROUGH.
& I DON'T WANT TO LOOK.
YOU'RE FALSE, PATHETIC, & WEAK.
(it was not temptation
it was only a game
only a hunt.
a ****** ****** game.
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 7:05 AM UTC
We who have lived solemn lives,
Live again as to die,
Without a heartache or a pleasent stream,
To slowly guide a sullen dream,
Wish for me as days go by,
To live a life without the lies,
Of societal youth,
Democratic fields of,
Constant burning fires,
Reckless cares,
Desires and fears,
That destroy the animal paws,
The guilded nighttime,
Barren and cold doth he tell,
Will vile and such the skinless will
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 4:56 PM UTC
When my head rests and settles
my thoughts free-flow
like steam from an overflowing copper kettle.
My chest sinks and swells
My cold, clammy hands clasp together
and nestle between my knees
to secure me from shivering beneath my sheets.
The dead December freeze batters my body
and so I dream.
Unable to abort the birth of an undying nightmare...
I begin to dream of shining on my own,
glistening all alone,
being covered in a quilt of Guilded gold.
I wish so much
to see a crease
or an escape to ease my troubled peace.
A way to cease this sitting
and **** this never ending quitting.
Kidding,
I'm not what I used to be. I'm something that I'm not.
I could knit a tight fit glove
for me and my humanity
to wed inside of.
I could pray that we never get pulled apart
even if sickness should be my suffering
and my witness.
Forgive me,
if I would rather stay sick
for the sake of my sanity.
I know what lies outside.
Ebonies of the sky
ebb at the glow
of the
twilight field of light
seeking sowing.
Forever showing
never knowing
how cold lonliness
is without a hand for holding.
If you had a hand to hold
would you?
Could you and your grasp
shake my shameless doubt
that our past has cast a stone
at the glass foundation of our future and
alas, our present cannot last?
Can your words
convince me that this is how it should be
and rid me of what I ought not to be
wraught with?
Or is this fraudulent truth an excuse
to let loose all of the fear we hold dear
as we hang dangling from a noose
as the world watches and people stare
as if they had nothing to lose.
I know I hope too hard
turning hope into current.
The positive charge barres
negative scars from burning,
but yet, my flesh is left
brittle and charred.
Maybe it makes no difference
or any sense at all.
It doesn't matter nonetheless, for I am desperate.
Dec 6, 2011
Dec 6, 2011 at 3:50 PM UTC
Granted men
Have every right under
The God given sun
To be as they wish,
Ignorant and bold,
Sarcastic and cocky,
Beautiful and ugly,
To be assailants to the kind at heart,
Those needing acceptance,
The lonely few with good souls,
And it is granted.
Where is justice
But in a verse,
Behind closed doors in your
Most private collection,
The guilded fist to air
In a drunken rage to what
You had seen earlier
And how we wish we had spoken
Up.
Granted we know it was wrong,
And as we have done nothing,
It was granted....
Oh to have punched his mouth,
Instead I bit my lips,
And they bled too.
May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 5:36 PM UTC
Equanimity;
How stoically your eyes shroud
those growing storm clouds.
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 4:30 PM UTC
A fever like I'm sinking into the bed
And the pounding of the nails,
The thorns pushed in my head
As I live my life to give
My everything away
Because you said that you needed it,
It's all yours, anyway.
The thunder breaks and you start to cry.
The moaning wind, and I ask you why?
Is the life you're living really all that tough?
Can I give you more?
Will it ever be enough?
I can save your life,
But will I have to let you go,
If I can't solve your riddle?
No, I can't save your soul.
The grind is hard as my blood turns into lead,
Here the ringing of the bells,
I see the flowing color red,
And it's all for you,
And everything I said,
Because I knew that you wanted it.
It's all yours anyway.
The doors are open; you can see outside
Of your guilded cage, you can stay and hide.
Are the lies getting heavy, and it's tough
To keep them straight?
Will I ever be enough?
I can save your life,
But will I have to let you go,
If I can't solve your riddle?
No, I can't save your soul.
You're free to go.
I can't save your soul.
If you're seeking more than this life,
The answers are inside where I don't abide.
I can't make you whole.
No, I can't save your soul.
You're free to go.
I can't save your soul.
If you're seeking more than this life,
The answers are inside where I don't abide.
I can't make you whole.
No, I can't save your soul.
You're free to go.
I can't save your soul.
If you're seeking more than this life,
The answers are inside where I don't abide.
I can't make you whole.
No, I can't save your soul.
You're free to go.
I can't save your soul.
If you're seeking more than this life,
The answers are inside where I don't abide.
I can't make you whole.
No, I can't save your soul.
No shackles bound you to the perch.
Mar 1, 2021
Mar 1, 2021 at 11:36 PM UTC
Met a girl called Stormy and I took her back to my place
Feelin' guilded, feelin' rich, hiding affairs everywhere
Stop! Pay off. Stay in control
Stormy, please don't write about me
Cuz I'm really not as sane as can be
And there are Reds, under my bed
And there are Putin's men in my head
And there's a slew of FBI, watching me
They keep stoppin' me, touchin' me, catchin' me, coverin' me
Paranoia, self destroyer. Paranoia, Don's destroyer
Well I hardly sleep, then awake 'n start Tweetin' out fears
Stormy looked at him and thought you will pay well my dear
She said Don, so many things go wrong with you
One day you're gonna self-destruct
You're down, then up, 'n then I'll take you out
You got ah good thing goin', why Tweet the self-doubt
Richee boy ya' self-destroyer. Tweetin' boy ya' self-destroyer
Privileged boy's got so much to live for
POTUS to go for, so much to lie for
You blow it all with, paranoia
Don's so insecure, the self-destroyer
Paranoia, it' will destroy ya
(Here he Tweets again!) paranoia, Storm will destroy yah!
Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 12:04 PM UTC