"immaculately" poems
As a uniform, he always wore
the grey ironmonger's coat
immaculately pressed and bore
clipped hair neat as well as a
close shave.
Mr. Cornthwaite (all of us
minions called him only Mr.)
was no "Do It 'Cos I Say So" boss
but with patience would teach
and preach retail folklore:
Cooks' staples stored well inside
our mini-market shop advanced
for its 50s' existence; shelf-stacking
to re-arrange for early use-by at the
front; fast-moving lines checked
hourly if not sooner; trusted staff
becoming the Tasting Squad for
new fresh produce being considered
for supply - The Cornflake (never
uttered in his hearing) circulating
to ensure not only that his ever-clear
commands were reflected in full shelves
but also that staff were coping not
rushed or overwhelmed.
The best Warrant Officer cares
just as much commands as
my de-mobbed Warrant Officer
father used to tell me when I asked.
(c) C J Heyworth
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 7:49 AM UTC
Earlier today, painting was the activity that we had planned
I have a support teacher who would always lend a hand
She had left the class to get the paint all mixed
While I stayed behind to get the toys and props all fixed
She came back and bore bowls of red, white and blue
Made me think of...well, made me think of you.
Lunchtime I visited a store and neatly displayed on low shelves
Arranged so immaculately as if magically done by elves
Were cases upon cases stitched together with only zips
They almost instantly bent a smile to my lips
Their colours shone brilliant red, white and blue
Made me think of...well, made me think of you.
Passed by a shop selling accessories and apparel
Merchandise dangled on wall hooks and some in a jumble
On the adjacent wall something caught my eye
Carried all the neat little tote bags one could ever buy
One peeking from a corner was red, white and blue
Made me think of...well, made me think of you.
Walked by a building, so modern-looking and new
Down on one side almost obscured from view
Were these horizontal rows of dancing neon lights
Stopped for a minute just to soak in the sights
Then I realised that they flickered red, white and blue
Made me think of...well, made me think of you.
Waited for the bus to get home at my usual bus stop
Whilst waiting, I shifted and from my bag something did drop
Bent over and picked my coin pouch that had fallen out
Looked up only to see another commuter lingering about
On his pack was a sticker which boasted red, white and blue
Made me think of...well, made me think of you.
Bus was packed, found a seat in the back row
Sat myself down, I peered briefly out the window
Engine under me, I scanned around to those who were seated
Observed the floor beneath my shoes as it vibrated
My pair of Adidas, oh my, they're red, white and blue
Made me think of...well, made me think of you.
Got home, put my bag down and sank into the sofa
Switched on the telly, on was the Food Network's "Barefoot Contessa"
Surfed through the channels, caught a real estate commercial
Promoting prime land in a country not anywhere regional
Splashed on the screen, a flag - red, white and blue
Made me think of...well, made me think of you.
End of the day, it is best that I hit the sack
Allow some rest for my poor aggravated back
But not till I complete the words you're currently reading
I'm thinking, dreaming and furiously typing
How do I end this? Hmm...red, white and blue?
I'm thinking and dreaming...and wishing I'm with you.
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 9:08 PM UTC
I love you.
For everything,
that you are,
that you were,
and the amazing person you are going to become.
We seem so perfect for each other
but so
distant.
Two missing puzzle pieces
that fit immaculately together,
lost.
We tried so hard to stay connected,
but our edges became worn
and images faded.
So you stripped me
of everything I was.
You took all my colors,
all my strength,
all of my will,
and left me as just
cardboard.
Soggy,
from the tears,
of a shredded heart,
streaming from within.
But over time,
my skin dried
and was stained and crinkled.
Showing a new picture.
A new me.
Stronger.
Happier.
And even more beautiful than before.
I love you.
For everything,
that you are,
that you were,
and the amazing person you are going to become.
It's just that you don't love me...
Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 10:17 PM UTC
Yassou, I say to you in poetry,
To the 'Alive Poets' Society',
Here is one for your fantasies,
Make love with one feather-erotically,
But with a whole chicken, well, like, *****
Run that past your thoughts, imaginarily,
Making love like that, immaculately,
Definitely one for your fantasies,
Using a whole chicken, well, like, *****
Yassou, one of the 'Alive Poets' Society'!
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 11:43 PM UTC
(on a Black Saturday)
Sun beams touch the lustrous shells of
the capiz chime, dazzling the eyes and mind,
the walls on both sides of the big window are
newly painted, immaculately white, so bright,
....the pink blooms of the bougainvillea,
humbly bowed for almost two weeks now,
have turned to a faded brown.......wilting...
the strange nest had fallen, and gone
the young of the yellow green-breasted birds
have grown, flown away...all have found
............other trees to perch on
the sweet sop tree quivers
from its heavy fruits and birds on branches
enjoying their meal of fruits...ripe and juicy,
leaving some for the bats at night
a striped yellow cat rests on a shaded part
of the roof...i patiently wait for daddy long legs
to come out from the gutter...but in vain...
...paint still wet?...scent too strong, maybe?
maybe, the gravel and pebbles on the ground
weigh too much...did i unknowingly bury them?
i am missing the spectacle of an earthworm,
..........emerging from under the soil
big ants are restless...driven out...roaming,
the bricked wall's natural tan-beige shade
has surfaced...concrete wall is too hot...
these bricks, must be repainted white, as well
the ants, the spiders, the earthworms,
the bats, make their own preparations,
why can't we human beings do the same?
we prefer to suffer the consequences, and
deal with the results of unpreparedness:
el nino, earthquakes, unwanted people,
la nina, unexpected decisions, unwanted
changes...and all sorts of crazy "uns,"
townhouses have risen on my street
strange faces of new neighbors
......pass me by...
......as i write...
the worst heat of summer is yet to come...
Sally
Copyright April 15, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Apr 16, 2017
Apr 16, 2017 at 3:06 AM UTC
My mind is elsewhere...
and the only person I have on it; is you.
My mind goes back to that night; the way you spoke to me, touched me, looked into me, The way you kissed me...
The intensity and passion between us was so magnetic that even shadows could not bare to lurk.
Obsession, possession, love.
I want it all for myself.
I filtrate your thoughts, you obsess over it, you want to do more than just **** me.
You feel guilt.
Nobody has ever looked at me like that...
The mannerism of it was, was something I have never had or felt before.
I feel his thoughts, pulsating through my every nerve, my desires are not to be obsolete.
Our energies, it's intertwined in a way that I have not with anyone else.
An image, a reflection... Of me.
You are me, and I am you.
I want to feel you again, in person.
I feel you spiritually and it makes me miss you immaculately.
I see you in my dreams, waking thoughts, my soul longs for yours.
I know you feel me, I know you love me, I can feel it.
It's creating a hold of heartache inside of you, you are dared to not even breach because of your priceless ego that stops you from what could make you someone completely different.
You were hurt, and to never trust a woman again was your broken promise you made to yourself.
Yet, you saw something in me when you met me, and decided to run away and treat it for what it was not because of your broken soul that you were not ready to face.
Complacent, stubborn, you already know you are mine, and I already know that I am yours.
I've adapted, but I still think of you.
Profusely, I still remember the gleaming stare in your hazel eyes.
Yet, timing is a matter of precaution...
Sep 7, 2021
Sep 7, 2021 at 10:25 AM UTC
She is ice
And he is fire
She is an angel
And him a devil
She's often seen sitting
On a park bench
Dressed immaculately; rich
With her nose stuck in a book
Whereas he's often seen lounging
At a squalid pub
With a drink in hand
Smoke curling from his smirking lips
Both polar opposites,
Ying and yang.
Yet when together
They become one
Her Fire can thaw his ice
And his water tames her fire
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 11:59 AM UTC
Self satisfied hipster ******
immaculately disheveled
crawl up anarchy patched
and retro fitted
from every bagel shmear
coffee house hell hole.
I hope this whole district gets fire bombed
leaving only the book store
so I can sit here in peace.
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 3:48 AM UTC
A clay *** holds your happiness.
It's halfway tall,
reaching up to your thigh,
Narrow, blown up in the middle, narrow.
Simple lid with a spherical dot for fingers to grasp,
and a black drawn line
that curls from base to lip,
and over.
Insides encumbered by sweet darkness,
shaded glory,
because outside,
gleaming.
Spiraled gold that must have dribbled off the sun's ice cream cone
leaked through the bottom where the end had broken
and flavor escaped
to land on your mirthful urn.
Blue so clear,
the sky surely lost a piece of itself
as a crack appeared
and a fragment cascaded downward
to shatter along your pleasant chalice.
And in between,
are lines of green
that could have only originated
on pinewood trees
in a forest so dark
that monsters beware.
Bordering a little town
where children played
and only truth was called,
never dare.
Because there is red on your delighted decanter.
Spattered droplets
of coagulated sparks.
Jaded needles saturated,
with pine fresh essence
emanating from your zesty flagon.
And a single spot,
Barren.
Bereft of treasure.
Parted from cerulean.
Robbed of Viridian.
And severed in the roots of a blushing Amaryllis.
Occupying there,
a white blemish,
a shape of infinite corners
immaculately defined
and so small,
you will never find it on the canister
that harbors your smile.
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 11:33 PM UTC
Maybe those afternoons,
were meant for,
that simple meeting,
amidst the quiet,
breviloquent chatter,
raw, uncompromising,
blissful uninhibited emotion.
Resounding cups,
mismatched china,
jasmine, rose, lavender tea,
celestial gardens,
plants; leaf-bearing
chinking lipped tea cups,
saucers pooling.
Immaculately intricate,
of Hadrian Denaruis silver,
an eighteenth century delight,
for ladies; un salon de thé,
sound waves wander as tea diffusers,
ritual & routine,
friendship & freedom.
© Sia Jane
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 7:02 PM UTC
Ashes pushed in tight
against the pressure of us;
Our loose breath and words.
We are purveyors,
headcutters, jazzists, brawlers,
writers and killers.
We meet here to live.
We scream and bang instruments.
We come here to die.
Cutting our hair and
writing on the walls, dressing
immaculately.
Trying to keep our
chins above our sweat, rising
an inch a minute.
We come here to be
baptized in this river of
sin, made unholy
before the weekday
pulls us out of tantrum, to
mediocrity.
Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 1:34 AM UTC
A feather,
immaculately white,
with a hint of black at the edge,
incongruently shaped like a sword,
was lying orphaned on the third step,
as I descend.No one noticed it.
Or, what is there so special,
they would have thought.
I stopped to pick it up,
on an instinct, softness prompted,
or perhaps a wish waiting there,
far off in the dark corridor of mind,
a need badly felt,
while rubbing against,
rough edged time;
is it hope of a possible chance
of a caress. With a smile I turn,
serendipity starts its game then,
at that moment one least expected it.
No, I am wrong in saying that,
that moment was indeed ripe,
then only the meaning of the word
gets justified.
She was looking at me,
standing on a step, arresting her ascent,
transfixed, looking at the feather too, now and then,
as if it is a quill immersed in liquid magic,
I hold to write, something she would,
spell out, in a moment.
"Tell me" I turn playful,
sensing her mood in that glowing moment,
so rare,we share, that has a hidden significance,
I was certain.
**"That's the feather I dreamt last night" she stutters.
We feel the spell of serendipity,
binding our hearts at that moment.**
0O0
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 10:01 AM UTC
) ::::O:::: (
/// • ||
<>
( • ) ( • )
--------////----------
The road to the hills
We follow
The sun is bright
The reasons are so
Immaculately clear
///
We have preserved
The purity of Sight
We have guarded well
Our children and the Life
//
We have seen
The earth itself destroyed
Only one Road remains
//://
Follow
The hills will not be there for long
They too ----- betrayed
Leave while you still have strength
///
Take with you all you can
This is the Road of MAN
/::/
Follow
The reasons are so
Immaculately clear
The purity !
The preciousness of Life !
•
Take with you all you can
This is the Road of -----man
This is the Road of ------- MAN
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 3:38 PM UTC
this is one of those
theatrical, midnight breakdowns
seen by the markers on my walls
and the cobwebs in the ceiling;
and there i was,
spilling my emotions —
like fragments of a dying star,
all over the place.
lightyears away,
some stars explode immaculately.
right here in my room,
the explosion
isn’t as beautiful;
it just hurts,
and hurts,
and hurts.
Jun 26, 2019
Jun 26, 2019 at 9:35 PM UTC
Rush not to her door
And startle her from slumber
Among her dreams
She treads with languid steps
Her heart beats softly
Soaking in the radiance
Unwrapping herself with ease
Letting herself bare
To grandeur of the landscape
Immaculately manicured garden
Golden rays welcome her
With open arms
Follow her footsteps
Lightly as they kiss the ground
Not aware of your presence
She’s yearning for you
Waiting for you to sneak in
And occupy here lonely chambers
Fill her life with your aroma
Rejuvenating the dreams
To become a constant reality
Rush not to her
She whispers her innermost feelings
To the trusted winds
Convey to you, the famed words
A celebration awaits the souls
As soon as you enter her dreams
Unaware of your presence
You take your time
Her door shall open for you
And there you both will be
For love’s till eternity
Dreams become a reality
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 8:03 AM UTC
Immaculately organizing every letter of the alphabet in slightly different ways to make what you read today.
My brain is the battery charged with the words I say in different ways,
And until I am depleted,
I am defeated to keep writing the words flowing like a fresh summer's flash flood monsoon,
Hopefully soon I will fall asleep,
So I can put away this curse of a brain that keeps saying things I can't help but see.
Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 8:33 PM UTC
To a love that will never die,
a love to be desired always,
my friendly lover and
my most loveliest friend,
my darling dear.
I celebrate you
and all that you are today.
You are a beautiful soul.
The best gift life can
ever give to me.
There's nothing I want more,
than to be with someone like you.
Spending my life time
with you is my desire
for you are my world.
Because of you,
heaven is within reach.
Your heart is where
the angels gathers,
for bliss is there.
Your smile is sunshine
to my world,
it revives and gives new life
and meaning to my being.
Your touch heals even
the most painful hurts,
the hardness of heart
your love softened,
and the pain melts away.
Pleasurable are your words.
You are impossible to resist.
Immaculately beautiful,
with exquisite behavior,
you have an instinct for the
right and wrong things to say.
Never heard you make a faux pas.
Your care nurtures the
weak and afflicted back to life.
You are a virtuous woman,
not tired of the pesky ways
of people around you,
you endured their unruly manners,
with your generosity and kindness
you win the hearts of the irracible ones.
You made the best of each moment.
Everything and all the ***** chores
seems so easy to handle.
Because you are here,
your presence is comforting.
Thank you for letting me win your heart,
I'm so grateful for all that you are.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Jun 1, 2018
Jun 1, 2018 at 5:28 PM UTC
I'm daring to
Glimpse
Perceive
Barely stand on my own feet
What shoes am I going to wear
Is it blue, red, nor green?
Don't feel the heaviness of my feet
But everything fit immaculately to my verity sheet
Ach,
Are these really the colors of my being?
Well...
They say emotions really fades away
I don't know now
Cause I heard the eternal aura whispers coming through my thoughts
Or is it just my own whispering sound?
Oh God
I can't speak
Nor find the root in me
Water me
I must water me
I want to see the flowers of my soul
I want to feel the existence in me
There's a black sky
But only to feed the earth's feet
A dashed black color in me
Coming through every breath I take while I speak
Nov 25, 2020
Nov 25, 2020 at 11:17 AM UTC
(Song for the Genteel Salesman Blocking My Path Each Time)
If only you knew.
Beneath blonde, rebonded locks
Curled extroverted lashes
Cemented titanium dioxide
Plastered patient breathless pores
Lips-wine-red
Nose elongated,
Dark strokes imprudent
Cleopatric windows to
Sadness of soul.
Maverick femininity in
Saccharine swan-like greeting
If only you knew.
Eden was perfect paradise
She who was crafted
Immaculately from your rib
She was your Soulmate
You were Beloved
Protector, keeper,
Nourisher of her being
If only you knew.
You are treasured by Him
Who fashioned you
Out of mud
Breathed life into your nostrils
From nothingness
You were imago dei.
You were anointed shepherd
Of all that lived
Moved; slid.
You were perfect
Majestic in Truth
You were imago dei
As you should have been
And can still be.
Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 8:57 AM UTC
Tufted ethereality, angelism of stock and store
pedestrian...alas, circusy.
Helm of streets bob...our supplicant pulls out
a mile or two of scripture from an enormous
pocket.
Fingers ink-blotted with grime, bent forth striding--
a heedless Beethoven tuned in immaculately.
Array's arrival stunned with scurry...planets of
conveyance pull at their elliptical wiring.
Some rare gigantism to the tenth of powers has
touched everything...all he could do from
going where he's arrived is futile.
From time immemorial, he...at present, its full
possessor!
What convoluted theorem of probability will
forcibly eject him from eureka...from where he's
vaporized his wears...naught...naught!
Some precipice's nudge knew best the wind for
his thought to take to, a majestic soar pealing the
spheres to show them their shape.
Life has exemplified its frugal capacity to him--
simmering creation tucked away for one fine day.
He, to outlive the closing energy that dances him,
an immortal...to be handled with care...with
universal intelligence--be, has let him...loosed.
He's broken the code of things in and of themselves...
he's a thing in and of himself--the Unitative factor erupts.
As the credits of glory pull upward...so he as them.
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 12:42 PM UTC
existence is
truly divine
thank you for that description
the paths are immaculately
intertwined
so delicately
it makes me smile
and release.
I trust in infinity,
am not bothered by the
concepts
of reality
faithfully excepting tomorrow
morning
with its new life
for all.
yesterday
is far.
yesterday can be a struggle
its your starting place
Do you feel its grip?
cut the cord
concentrate
on existence
it only moves forward
learn to dance
with
divinity
centralize your energy
and speak YOUR song!
write it, draw it, put it to a melody
or mix it with watercolors
and quench your sources thirst
for PositiveMovement
for creation
never forgetting
yesterday
or those that existed
then
but allowing it to stay
there
where it belongs
and sending yourself
prepared
alive
and divine
forward into existence
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 5:29 AM UTC
Build this structure block by block
He was intriguing, infinitely appealing,
Building his way to the quiet peace of the top.
Build this city block by block
He was outspokenly subdued, a mystery to grip to
A tower, a steady force, a rock.
Build this utopia block by block
He was terrific, immaculately deific,
Captivating in the only way humans are not.
Build this Elysium block by block
Oh, I think you know him not, I think you may be all talk,
These palace gates will ever remain locked.
Build this friendship block by block
Oh, I think I know him not, oh I know I can't run nor walk,
But I am certain I want to be caught.
That one decision could inspire hope,
I never thought, I never knew; I hadn't the slightest clue,
This is what saved me; how I cope.
I'll build this life block by block
Thank you, I was on the edge, I was through,
Block by simple block until time finally stops.
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 11:22 PM UTC
I left
immaculately folded tan chino pants
cuffed and disheveled
atop the department store rack
in the Young Men’s section.
They were too big at the waist,
letting me swim laps in them,
stretching out the front with a thumb and forefinger
looking like a successful weight loss ad.
Atop the rack they sat,
cuffed and disheveled,
amongst immaculately folded
tan chino pants
its kin
and they looked human.
Something about them,
factory made, dime a dozen,
not on sale,
but with the spectral imprint
of spaces and wrinkles where legs had been
amongst all those patient, forlorn folds
gave humanity
to the anomaly.
Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 10:33 PM UTC
the little ant hill is pooping out more piles of sand
piling little grains of metals high into the sky
they shine immaculately in the sunshine
as the rows of workers stream through the citys’ veins
they carry their plump, white babies
nurtured through larval state to maturity
the work continues tirelessly, ceaselessly
over green hills and through forests
over land and around the suburbs
families sit in their homes around television sets
the hills of little grains pile higher and higher
their antennae turn upward and sense the setting sun
night falls and the work is paused
the night beasts move around the piles of grain
the structure collapses and the residents scatter
rain begins and the flood is upon
the little ant hill is pooping out more piles of sand
piling little grains of metals high into the sky
shining brilliantly in the sun
the colony remains
originally posted on my blog https://sublimeobscenities.wordpress.com/ on May 24, 2014
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 1:50 PM UTC