"illustrious" poems
it is at moments after i have dreamed
of the rare entertainment of your eyes,
when(being fool to fancy)i have deemed
with your peculiar mouth my heart made wise;
at moments when the glassy darkness holds
the genuine apparition of your smile
(it was through tears always)and silence moulds
such strangeness as was mine a little while;
moments when my once more illustrious arms
are filled with fascination, when my breast
wears the intolerant brightness of your charms:
one pierced moment whiter than the rest
—turning from the tremendous lie of sleep
i watch the roses of the day grow deep.
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I was brought into this house
Ordered from the local furniture shop
Made to order according to specifications
I am a wingback,
Upholstered in full-grain leather
True to my rich heritage
I was placed in the library
Amongst the illustrious works of famous writers
Half- a - century have passed, providing support
To the backbone of the family
Although tired, he finds solace in my cozy embrace
I give him my wings to fly into the world of literature
Cervantes, Bunyan, Bacon, Goehte, Dostoevsky, Chekov, Tolstoy
Some of the names from the illustrious collection
Not all were privileged to have a seat here
He was transported to each era, savoring the rich legacy
Of literature down the centuries
I was privy to the mind-boggling debates
Which he conducted with himself
Trying to reason each work of literature
A mere wingback rose to be a companion
Providing sturdy support on the mahogany legs
One fine day the reading session ended in deep slumber
Five decades of bonding and companionship came to an end
Now, I stand here, forlorn, at the corner of the library
Reminiscing the reading sessions, and siesta
The wingback does not have the wings to fly away from this bond
© Amitav (Radiance)
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 2:35 PM UTC
Sequacious demonstrative mongrel fantastication
Overt fantasias and monstrance clarification
Rhetorical rote of empirical justification
Whimsical enervations elicit ramification
Incite legendary fables of rectification
Tempestuous mendacious erudite personifications
Endemic epistemological semantics of edification
Evocative illuminism engenders mortification
Judicious spontaneous phantasms of gratification
Numinous salutatory statutes of ratification
Heuristic existentializing empiricisms alleviate confusion
Adamant machismo machinations eliminate delusion
Eulogizing enigma entity’s illustrious illusion
Torridly allusive revelries of reverie effusion
Educing morose maniacal moribundity’s inclusion
Epitomizing empathetic revulsions to corroborate elusion
Probitous erudite solicitations evade contusion
Raunchy riotous accoutrements appreciate exclusion
Optimizing subjunctively torpid recalcitrant collusion
Scenario syntactics of mythically epic allusion
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 9:23 PM UTC
It's always been you!
If only you realized how much you mean to me,
Not a moment goes by when I don't stop to think about you,
Your peculiarity alone can do that,
And, that's always been you!
What makes you so special?
In layman terms,
You are my greatest strength
And, my greatest weakness.
The serenity in your halcyon heart,
The charisma of your captivating eyes,
The elegance in your illustrious smile,
The tenderness of your seductive lips,
The spark in your gentle touch,
The gracefulness of your alluring neck,
The radiance in your dazzling lustrous hair,
The lure of your hypnotizing heaving *****
The haven in your scintillating navel,
The holiness of your ravishing waist,
The sanctity of your fascinating hips,
The wickedness in your mesmerising curves,
For my hopes lie on,
The gateway to your heart,
That is now open,
Through the divine pathway in your sacred forest,
Filled with untold and concealed secrets,
And, mysteries unknown to man,
For I hope to touch, nurture and caress,
Every deep wall in you,
For you are the prayer to my appetite,
And, the incarnation of my desires,
It is now that I get the privilege of being a being,
To realize,
You complete me!
You are desire,
You are passion,
The inspiration for wanting more in life,
The personification of loving life itself.
The paragon of my eroticism,
And, not an end will there be,
For my ***** crave,
To be destroyed,
By the ****** dynamite you are.
An eternal pleasure in sensual misery you are,
And, a heaven in my hell,
The zenith of all climaxes,
And, the paradigm for my resurrection.
The yearning for the man in me,
You are!
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 6:07 PM UTC
A lump of eminence
Swells in her throat,
But she swallows it down
Flashing a shiny, humble smile.
This wild dandelion grows in the sun
and dances to the beat of the wind,
Scattering seeds of peace
And songs of love
In every corner of the world.
She floats among the stars
Crashing perfectly into
Every illustrious constellation.
As she shakes the stardust from her hair
And dusts her glitter-speckled shoulders,
She reaps the benefit
Of her selfless, meaningful offerings.
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 12:56 AM UTC
The beloved country Africana can boast of is Ghana. The manana of Africana black star is Ghana A nation rich in culture and natural pasture.
Its nature reflects the creatures’ caricature
We are black reflecting our true beauty.
And we are packed with captivating ability. The typicality of our nationality brings unity. Who knows whether our safety lies in our variety?
This unity amidst our diversity is our reportage. About twenty-four million are surviving in our age. Over sixty ethnic groups and fifty-two major languages. There are hundreds of dialects which are to our advantages.
In W/A, Ghana records the highest percentage of Christianity… Yet the modernity of our sanity portrays minds of malignity. But the fraternity of our humanity builds our community. The variety of our morality and privity builds our society
Who said Ghana cannot be capaciously superfluous? We have the very illustrious and exuberant resources. The elites and the voracity are harnessing the recourses. The destitute remains poor and the gentry linger the forces
Our democratic government is an African paradigm. Our peaceful political regime is of no pantomime. Who of course would help us measure corruption? The whole nation would have tensed up to eruption.
If not the gargantuan wayomelogy of the wayometer. Who knows whether the next tool would be attameter? Who wouldn’t love to be a proud Ghanaian to enjoy our hilarious fila and jargons tongue can employ
Mar 22, 2012
Mar 22, 2012 at 7:52 PM UTC
I looked into my grandpa's eyes
In my daughter's face disguised
My son's hands now strong indeed
Just like my dad's I see.
Temperament like calm currents flow
From generations long ago
Eyes hazel gold so beautiful
Passed to me ... ages old
Grandma gave her that tenacity
And there's Meema's willful personality
My son took Peepa's tender heart
That feels the pain of another's lot
High cheekbones a dead give away
Of Comanche heritage displayed
Blonde hair like one we never knew
His life cut off way too soon
Deep poetic waters flow
Music locked inside us rose
From history past revealed today
Sweet sung lullabies relayed.
Unknown tears that flowed from souls
Pain and hardship we'll never know
What did it take to bring us here
What suffering did they volunteer
Archives of history living in me
Within me the keys to great mysteries
Treasures buried deep inside my soul
Tapestries of lives sewn together as a whole
Fragments of you, pieces of me
Weaving together delicate filigrees
Illustrious building rise from the grave
Living forever through endless age
Jul 6, 2012
Jul 6, 2012 at 6:21 PM UTC
*How I wish to float upon your breast
Soft and placid as a glass lake, windless
Breathless
But to delve into valleys
Unexplored, keeper of buried treasures
I trek throughout, wandering
Aimless deliverance, unspoken promises
Intricacy of intimate embrace
I weave in my fingers, passion
Spill me, leave kisses like ghosts
Translucent memories
Moist with seduction
Delicious droplets of enticement
Proposing infatuation, falling from your lips
Illustrious little allures
Swim through me
Serpentine twisting contours
Wrap me in flesh, consumption
Stares, to reiterate a longing
Convey this truthfulness
Honeyed words of desire
Think not to deny yourself this moment
Make love to white whispers
Embedded in the mouth of temptation
Take no responsibility
Let movement be freely expressed
Body caressed
Comforting red embers
Of lustful flame
Spin tales of time and tryst
Inhale the sweeter aromas
Entwine with immaculacy
Reciprocate sensuality, a pair
Two
Two with a twist
And many other turns*
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 7:38 PM UTC
《☆ Ode to Miller Spring ☆》
I have traveled this road.
I have traveled this road since
first I came to be here.
This journey was
my awakening to the
new existence I would step into.
Foreign to me
the illustrious homes.
Dripping willows, old oaks, poplars...
Perfectly kept grounds.
Checkerboard patterns carved
into lush grass.
This road is winding.
One needs to go slowly.
Families, children, animals,
all enjoy this path.
The winds blow at this highest point,
up above the Glacial Basin
that forms the river below.
Before farmland,
home to
Ojibwe,
Lakota.
The Spring
The deep Spring of Healing
Ancient, pouring forth
from the center of the Earth.
This road, brought me to a
place of solitude...
An open space.
Land of possibilities.
I have traveled this road.
I have traveled this road
since first I came to be here.
This road has led me to the new existence
I have stepped into.
Perfectly kept grounds
checkerboard patterns carved
in lush grass.
The wind blows at this
highest point,
up above the Glacial Basin,
that forms the river below.
Before farmland,
home to
Ojibwe,
Lakota.
The Spring
The deep Spring of Healing.
Ancient, pouring forth from
the center of the Earth.
This Spring, that quenched
my family's thirst.
This Spring, that pulled my
people here,
so many years ago.
A road brought me to
this place of solitude.
An open space.
A land of Dreams.
I wonder,
what Dreams,
this land
will hold for me?
☆●⊙●☆●⊙●☆●⊙●☆
~July 2014~May 2015~
2nd Edition
Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.
"Miller Spring" is a pure crystalline-rock aquifer that has been revered by all peoples blessed to live within it's reach. The tribes of the Ojibwe and Lakota shared the spring. It was called the "Sweet Spring of Healing Waters" This spring was also shared with Settlers as they arrived. When the land was owned, the spring has always been made accessible, to All People. It should be noted that this spring water is exceptionally clear,
crisp and has a sweet bright taste
It is delicious!
To this day Miller Spring is available to all.
It's icy cold waters gush forth 24/7~365
days a year out of a well by the side
of the road, down about a mile
from my home.
I actually live in a modest house
on two original acres of this
beautiful land, which is now
bordered by five "illustrious" homes.
We moved here from the
City in the year 2000
Living in the suburbs was the
"New Existence" I had stepped into...
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 6:11 PM UTC
In the brooding light, you were formed.
You were born in clouds and dust, and you grew up in the luminous sky.
You were scattered throughout the different parts of the galaxy.
You are trillions of miles away,
yet still visible to the naked eye.
As the star gradually evolves and forms
into different entities,
it is either a planet, an asteroid, or a nebula —
or even just a speck of dust and never formed.
It is also the start of your
long, deep slumber.
While in the intergalactic space in your eyes,
gravity pulls back the gas and forms another one. And the galaxy is bathed in gas.
While you were out of breath, I talked to you.
So you can hear your friend in the dark.
Your death is also the birth of another celestial space.
Between the illustrious energy and gravity's back-and-forth,
recycling gases and turning them into a new form of galaxy,
it is like the way you breathe in and out —
while your eyes are closed.
Did you wear an evening gown?
While the patients here wear something ridiculous, you can't stand it.
So you wore a red dress in your deep, restless sleep.
Tonight, I looked over the moon and remembered you.
They called upon the universe and they gave you space.
You were there, starlike.
I gave you one last message before I turned my back.
I will always put my faith in the phenomenon of celestial space.
Then you held my hand, so slow and weak.
You told me, and I smiled, "In the chaos of everything, I heard you."
And another star exploded, but you lived.
Mar 25, 2022
Mar 25, 2022 at 2:52 AM UTC
The world is full of friends yet to meet
The world with divine love replete
O Ganesh, I am at your feet
Your incarnation in the poetry of the beat
Statuesque and filled with light
As I saw you on my flight
A mesmerising and illustrious sight
That bids goodbye to hate and spite
Irresistible to adore
Ganesh, the champion of ancient lore
A countervailing force to war
Hear him riot, hear him roar
Aug 26, 2021
Aug 26, 2021 at 8:33 PM UTC
I watch as the sun dances on the water, under the bluest sky. No twirling clouds in the breeze above. No shadows block the sun. Twinkling stars in the afternoon hang around to dance all night. The sparkling onyx water takes the hand of the moon and is serenaded by the night sky in all its illustrious splendor.
**Fluttering lights sway
Music unheard leads the dance
As heartbeats keep time**
In the heat of the day through midnight shades of navy, the ocean laps the shore. Beckoning ever so gently. With each passing joyous tango, the force rises until it demands your company. Until you learn to dance in all your glory. To be one in the night and be bare in the sun. To reflect the good around you and let it shine down and make you free. Still, I sit and watch the water dance.
Jun 16, 2010
Jun 16, 2010 at 7:41 PM UTC
Gazing into her crystal eyes
not a glimpse of light
in her pale illustrious orbs
her couture matched
the threads of a goddess woven by silk
never has the world heard such a harmonious voice
her hair as black and glossy
like raven feathers
a frame so divine
complexities came to mind
that god himself was almost unable to
carve a radiant smile as glimmering
her soft skin made her known
as the temptress of the night
her sweet mouth sang of hymns children slept too
the curvature of her chin wickedly attractive
following the course of her smile to her rosy cheeks
the ring on her finger is one of saturns
the hue from her lips are as red as foxes
burning with infinite intensity.
Her pale forehead knew every answer in the universe
the glow between her eyebrows majestic
her third eye spoke of exquisite beauty
holy light was her aura
angels danced around her
shrouding her body with stardust from the heavens
butterflies applied her makeup
whenever she arose from her chrysalis
revolving the world on her throne
without a bead of pressure to perspire
her vocals an instrument to my heart
listened to with wild passion
luster from her skin expensive as gold from India
her existence was solace
for rational reasoning alone
unflawed her lips reached mine
under the eclipse
the shadow of my phantom
caressing her hips
my wild craving tasting
what it it truly means to be in love.
The orchestra of her movement
can save a man from death
her words whispered to me like rhinestones
the touch from her waxy hand
trembling across my stature
cracking, shaking
with electricity at every fiber
pulsating from my heart to hers
capsizing from secrets dripping in my ear
she treats me to more wine kisses
traces of her ruby red lipstick
on my chest
her lofty thoughts completed mine.
the golden trim of life
seen throughout the land.
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 10:59 PM UTC
*Apple pie is a wonderful treat, one of my favorite desserts.
With a warm, flaky crust, a scoop to make it à la mode,
Sweet with a spoonful of whipped cream.
But the pie by itself, doesn't make it my favorite treat.
It's where it takes my mind whenever I see it,
Smell it,
Taste it...
It was not your beauty that smote my heart, though you are beautiful.
It was not your illustrious eyes withholding a gorgeous soul.
It was not your delicate face that fills mirrors with joy when they reflect it.
All theses are parts of your magnificent, appealing body.
It was not your charm that smote my heart, though you are charming also.
It was not your gracious kindness and loving hugs as I cried into my pillow, broken by life's wicked games.
It was not your adorable bubblyness that cheered my spirits everyday.
All these are great parts of your stunning character.
It was you, only you, that stormed the keep of my frail and dying heart.
Seeing me as I was - broken like glass on a marbled floor - you gathered the shards and mended them with your own.
I sometimes wonder if there's something that reminds you of me, the way this apple pie reminds me of you.
Does a smile cross your beautiful face when I first say hello to you?
Do you stay awake tossing and turning because I won't leave your head or your heart?
Does your stomach tingle when we're separated from each other's company?
Did you cry alone at night when you and I thought we would never speak to each other again?
Do you love me?
Do you know I love you?
These are my thoughts, my questions,
After a slice of,
Apple pie.*
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 9:01 PM UTC
Blessed with matchlessly magical Parents,
Their supremely good, serenely happy raising,
design our thought processes.
Their loving, comforting storytelling skills,
leave indelible footprints and heartprints.
Thankyou God for this Benedictory Love!!!
Blessed with a bombastic Brother,
self-styled natural, perennial itinerant,
Sentinel of sisters life-long.
Sentiments flow unabatedly,
for our illustrious, boisterous beloved younger.
Thankyou God for this Blissful Love!!!
Blessed with delicate darling Sister,
who wears expressions benignant perpetually.
Wiitty, gritty, easy-going habitually.
Evident protected favourite of all surely.
Fondest moments born in her queenly company.
Thankyou God for this Harmonious Love!!!
Blessed with solicitous Husband,
His silent romanticism, macho protective ways,
smoothen tumultuous paths.
Terribly correct and sober better half,
Brokers peace, plots life's happiness graph.
Thankyou God for this Angelic Love!!!
Blessed with an endearing Child,
Whose arrival, auspicious, momentous and miraculous, Rearing the divine and sublime born,
definitely, a definition for the guardians.
Our child, our panacea, promise of better tomorrows.
Thankyou God for this Supreme Love!!!
Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 2:06 AM UTC
Illustrious queen, set me free
from the chains of my desire
Though mere form, an eternal dream
relieved by bursts of white fire
A primordial odyssey
from ocean's novel progeny
Crawled out of Cambrian waters,
fish who yielded the first daughters
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 3:49 AM UTC
The Rav
of Northern White Russia declined,
in his youth, to learn the
language of birds, because
the extraneous did not interest him; nevertheless
when he grew old it was found
he understood them anyway, having
listened well, and as it is said, 'prayed
with the bench and the floor.' He used
what was at hand--as did
Angel Jones of Mold, whose meditations
were sewn into coats and britches.
Well, I would like to make,
thinking some line still taut between me and them,
poems direct as what the birds said,
hard as a floor, sound as a bench,
mysterious as the silence when the tailor
would pause with his needle in the air.
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She said:
I am neither witty nor a beauty,
nor illustrious nor an actress
so if u take me u must be either
a ****** or reckless.
He said:
Well, you see i have met countless sleeping beauties
all of which utterly enchanting and bighearted
but not one such a dauntless daredevil
that she leaves a spartan fainthearted.
Never described as prejudiced or foolhardy
she would faster swim the English channel naked
,and she will do so sublimely,
than see a crime or sin go unstated.
If all you have to offer,
is what you are now
then let me tell you that is no bother,
and only say Wow.
Cause you are totally original
nothing short of awe-inspiring,
absolutely phenomenal
and so worthy of this ring.
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 7:03 AM UTC
the promise that her tenderness has no fences
made her linger on my mind
like a rough bottle of fine wine
and as the evening rolled back daylights clutter of thoughts in my head
that smile she flashed me came back to kiss my heart
it came with such delight sparking in her sweet eyes
that i just felt myself drowning in the moment with such wanton joys
made me illustrious by her soft-spoken side
made me happy to be alive...
once the sullen girl in baggy sweat pants and pink slippers
dragging a bag full of noisesome beatnik romances
she has grown to love freedoms road
cast aside such tin-plated gods and rough-house boys
that a pretty boy isn't a man if he wont make a stand
found herself holding a wishing well coin
and a map showing paradises shores
and came down to find me again....
sitting in a coffee house full of lost voices
full of magazine honeys chilling before the big break finds em
listening to the sounds of heartbreak in glasses chatter
and waiting for a road that made sense to me
when she walked back into my life
like a rough bottle of fine wine
like a candlelight evening with true loves joys
i will be here forever know that now
florida moon-surfing
holding her in my arms
breathing the magic that is her
exploring her romances
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 6:07 PM UTC
I have an illustrious dream,
want to be Leonard
Cohen's gypsy wife,
he's kissing my lips on
Boogie Street,
impetuously we dance
to the end of love
'til closing time
midst his secret life,
he serenades me with
I'm your man
when we take Manhattan,
bewildered by his poetic beauty there
waiting for the miracle to happen,
a sip of wine, a cigarette
in love we disappear,
here it is, you got me singing
be that dog in heat,
I'll take this waltz and
another please, cause
everybody knows
I hunger for your touch,
his famous blue raincoat
and the dew on my thigh
goes a thousand kisses deep
in the cave at the tip of the lily
with its very own breath of brandy,
slipping into the masterpiece
where Lenny is eternal
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 6:50 PM UTC
Attend my lays, ye ever honour’d nine,
Assist my labours, and my strains refine;
In smoothest numbers pour the notes along,
For bright Aurora now demands my song.
Aurora hail, and all the thousand dies,
Which deck thy progress through the vaulted skies:
The morn awakes, and wide extends her rays,
On ev’ry leaf the gentle zephyr plays;
Harmonious lays the feather’d race resume,
Dart the bright eye, and shake the painted plume.
Ye shady groves, your verdant gloom display
To shield your poet from the burning day:
Calliope awake the sacred lyre,
While thy fair sisters fan the pleasing fire:
The bow’rs, the gales, the variegated skies
In all their pleasures in my ***** rise.
See in the east th’ illustrious king of day!
His rising radiance drives the shades away—
But Oh! I feel his fervid beams too strong,
And scarce begun, concludes th’ abortive song.
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the size of you now from way back here my dear
you may not know but let me tell you... how you fill the pavilions with your ether whiskers
and your sumptuous mask. the all night habit of your ring finger's habit.
the flinch of your dashing rabbits.
you might be breathing something from monte carlo.
but your flames flamingo. yooouuuu don't even know the half... but the whole thing reeks of pablum
and bamboo shoots. illustrious pulp. you are not the virtue that you want
as much the virtue that you lack. the size of you now
from way back here, is merely the reticule of god's ******
with the rubber-room bullets and the nice lighting.
you have wind chimes in your wrinkles again.
are you that much gone from nod
as you might seem steam
on a roof of a low owl
atop giant
mouse ?
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 3:28 PM UTC
1307
That short—potential stir
That each can make but once—
That Bustle so illustrious
’Tis almost Consequence—
Is the eclat of Death—
Oh, thou unknown Renown
That not a Beggar would accept
Had he the power to spurn—
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Shadows of a chandelier
Beautiful mystery of dark and light
Dancing, weaving, wondering, feeling
Not seeing with glassy eyes
Light fragmented sun ray cracked
The mind casts long reels of doubt
Wonder yet confusion
Enjoyment yet delusion
How many roles to play?
Theatrical conceit
Characters as hours of a day?
Eye-catching as deceit
Illustrious – lustre – lust – last?
Lest lukewarm fire stir
The ashes sprinkled
Memory of the present
Mourning love yet to be lost
Why hold a storm for the rainbow?
But let the sun shine
And be glorious in its God-written course
To set and rise in perfect time
May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 7:44 AM UTC