"interlude" poems
I remember they once told me that
music is the best time capsule
It's where people keep their secrets and feelings;
of their insecurities, their mistakes, their sadness, their first cut,
and even the wounds and bruises that invisible to the eye
It's where people let their wildest dreams alive;
of the one they can never reach, the one that will never come back, the one that got away without proper farewell
It's where people store their most sacred memories;
of their first kisses, their first love, their first dance, their first bucket of roses, their first heartbreak
So they were right after all,
Music is dangerous, yet addicting; it can either tear you apart or put the pieces back altogether, it depends on what kind of ghosts living inside the interlude
Thus, be careful who you listen the music with
some melody is louder than the others
**
Today I played the music box you gave me on my seventeenth birthday
How odd it is to realize that music sometimes can be a time machine, how every strings and clinks bring me back to you—towards you
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 8:56 AM UTC
~
where clear blue sky meets water's deep
his sunbeams reach her waves to tease,
to warm her currents, foaming spray;
dawn to dusk when daylight fades,
till only afterglow remains,
an interlude of celestial stage.
he speaks to her on written sky
and in the mournful sea-bird's cry,
wraps sultry ribbons in her tresses,
his fingers linger in caresses,
and in soothing choreography
he gently stirs her ocean's breeze.
he sends her gifts of palm and dates,
wrapped on waves in salty sprays;
watches her with much delight,
he sings to her each eventide,
love songs with the calling gull,
and rocks her tween the gusts and lulls.
wedded at horizon’s edge,
devotion to her he has pledged,
to have forever and to hold,
his comfort to her storm-tossed soul;
his tender kiss on tear-stained cheek,
where clear blue sky meets water's deep.
~
*post script.
when one gazes
into the vastness
of sea and sky,
of what is from
height to depth
an endless blue,
one cannot but think
of eternal devotion,
of the relationship
between two who have
pledged their forever troth!*
*as i wonder from what recesses
this one came, i remember…
our 36th wedding anniversary
is fast approaching...
i’ve been thinking of what to gift her
that will make her cry anew.*
**thank you to Hello Poetry for
the tremendous honor bestowed
with their designation of this poem as the daily
and to all who have expressed their heartfelt
love and appreciation... your message
came through loud and clear...
there can be no denying it,
i am an incredibly blessed man
because of each of you!
thank you, truly,
from the bottom of my heart!**
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 4:41 PM UTC
What smouldering senses in death’s sick delay
Or seizure of malign vicissitude
Can rob this body of honour, or denude
This soul of wedding-raiment worn to-day?
For lo! even now my lady’s lips did play
With these my lips such consonant interlude
As laurelled Orpheus longed for when he wooed
The half-drawn hungering face with that last lay.
I was a child beneath her touch,—a man
When breast to breast we clung, even I and she,—
A spirit when her spirit looked through me,—
A god when all our life-breath met to fan
Our life-blood, till love’s emulous ardours ran,
Fire within fire, desire in deity.
9.2k
(Interlude)
My eyes in 1910
never saw the dead being buried,
or the ashen festival of a man weeping at dawn,
or the heart that trembles cornered like a sea horse.
My eyes in 1910
saw the white wall where girls urinated,
the bull's muzzle, the poisonous mushroom,
and a meaningless moon in the corners
that lit up pieces of dry lemon under the hard black of bottles.
My eyes on the pony's neck,
in the pierced breast of a sleeping Saint Rose,
on the rooftops of love, with whipers and cool hands,
in a garden where the cats ate frogs.
Attic where old dust gathers statues and moss,
boxes keeping the silence of devoured *****
in a place where sleep stumbled onto its reality.
There my small eyes.
Don't ask me anything. I've seen that things
find their void when they search for direction.
There is a sorrow of holes in the unpeopled air
and in my eyes clothed creatures - undenuded!
7.4k
i fear that you are
drowning in your own depth
and i hope that you have
learned to hold your breath
for extended periods of time
and that you know when
to come up for an interlude
of fresh air every once in awhile
your heart is so
special
please take care
of it
because i would hate
to hear that you’ve broken
two more
one, hers
and in return, yours
yet again
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 10:24 PM UTC
It's like this, and then there was total recall. Fast like a safety plan made wrong and then bouncing in and out all the way down the hall. Up through cable cars, Korean fast food market, wet fish, soupy street, concrete cracks filled with crab meat and **** heads. Just a square, a five block, two street, sideways quadrangle, beat of the Tenderloin, hour of the dove. Every one's dead on these loose ends. Hills of the back of her backside, skin of the back of her neck. Rapture is the grave of the sunset, memory is that thing that I said.
No one cans in carnivores, no one runs moves like a shepherd. Sunday, daft as candy, luck in the ways of the prophet. Canon of the blaze of every woman that died today. The sleep setting, the motorcycle bending the hollow, the ravines noisy interlude, up through the rough and the tangles, huddles in a six pack, three or four walking up the block to meet the rest of them.
The skin doesn't fit right, it wears wrong, the shoulders stiff, the masseuse excuses himself. Buckets of flowers hang from the ceiling like stripped cat christmas decorations in suburban mastermind serial killer resort town. Everyone is quiet because they gotta. They move their feet like they were hurrying death into a red volcano, like they were the errand of red from the top bell to the bottom of the town.
I sit on a roof top, baking in the noon day sun. Stripping sticks and stems off the side to sideways, just roasting away, laying, low in the afternoon light. I see a girl with her hands on her skirt, wobbling, scooting a priest card on a periwinkle terra-cotta. I move my head, turn it upside round to take a better look. No one counts to ten when they see me. The gangster that woke up isn't the gangster that went to sleep last night. My wickedness ended my words mean your bright decay. So I ride the pavement exhausted, burying my coughs in an L-shaped arm
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 12:32 PM UTC
spirit stone
the emotion caught
in your embrace
where my body
melts into yours
the perfect blend
of masculine
and feminine
bathing in a river
of marble
the waves are
disquieting
the ring is lost
spirit stone
don’t deceive me
with other women
don’t trick me with
the old man
at your feet
I do not give up
I slave away
I work morning
and night
spirit stone
everything has been
cut
hay, wheat, stone
the interlude in
the fields
the moment when
the ring is found
dawn and thought
watch me
dawn and thought
wear on my
countenance
spirit stone
the moving echo
of my own past
the waltz to come
the hidden
atelier
the moment when
the king falls in love
with his wife
with his child
spirit stone
I am muse
I am artist
I am caught like
a fly
an agnostic
queen who found
the ring
to fall in the arms
of man
spirit stone
if you keep your
promise
we will grow
with the sky
if you keep your
promise
we will be in
paradise
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 12:46 PM UTC
Assigned by angels to be the vessel
of your opal eyes
I don't mind
These days all I want to see
is the radiance you bring forth
a tranquil break in the folds
streaming through me
As I stand in regard
with the threads of yours wrapped around mine
a spatial interlude
long glimpses at your blueprints
in my sights
the daybreak of my existence
the gleaming brilliance of yellow
the daring cosmos of nights’ sky
Those night skies
its expanse I clear with no expense
I only hope for you
for you to notice
the bones of mine that bloom after you
a synthesis so sweet
as I see you
glance back to me as we dance across this field
as I tread light
a nimbus and a kite
the vessel of your opal eyes
a contract laced with gold
dusted with your breath.
Jun 1, 2018
Jun 1, 2018 at 8:52 AM UTC
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, feel with others and make them understood:->
in her feels not mine to be
in her exclamations a secret to the seeking havens I see
just from the beginning
I confess I blurt must
bring respect to hands of dust
undone by the noise
maybe breathed to the wrong soils
for me to you its a pathetic muse
for you to me its a phenomenal---an interlude
wrapped around a neck a tormenting noose
for the lines might be altogether attached
yet by the hearts ultimately snatched
yet the pieces left broken
swept under the deeps of the rug gone unspoken
strangling up to the muffled tears
been shed been dear
even when life is brought to its feet
still bound to magnetize
she drugs our feels
your moons---a blessing in a demon to the darks
not a silver not a golden not a dime a ricocheting stark
painted on ceilings
are you an angel haunted by the devils???
seems like God is unfair
sorting mindlessly things just for hearts to rebel
a past life you wish you could speak of you may
from them those of the brutal realizes to draw out through the way
disguised on the pretends
you pay
so **** miserable for me to digest to decay
what about you the owner
of a curse everyday???
believed to be a sad sad serenade
just from the no ending
where I await a second
I confess I blurt I must say
------ravenfeels
Apr 2, 2021
Apr 2, 2021 at 12:57 PM UTC
Jupiter Mars P Moon
VENEZIA, "May" 19"th", 1910.
Jupiter's foursquare blaze of gold and blue
Rides on the moon, a lilac conch of pearl,
As if the dread god, charioted anew
Came conquering, his amazing disk awhirl
To war down all the stars. I see him through
The hair of this mine own Italian girl,
Adela
That bends her face on mine in the gondola!
There is scarce a breath of wind on the lagoon.
Life is absorbed in its beatitude,
A meditative mage beneath the moon
Ah! should we come, a delicate interlude,
To Campo Santo that, this night of June,
Heals for awhile the immitigable feud?
Adela!
Your breath ruffles my soul in the gondola!
Through maze on maze of silent waterways,
Guarded by lightless sentinel palaces,
We glide; the soft plash of the oar, that sways
Our life, like love does, laps --- no softer seas
Swoon in the ***** of Pacific bays!
We are in tune with the infinite ecstasies,
Adela!
Sway with me, sway with me in the gondola!
They hold us in, these tangled sepulchres
That guard such ghostly life. They tower above
Our passage like the cliffs of death. There stirs
No angel from the pinnacles thereof.
All broods, all breeds. But immanent as Hers
That reigns is this most silent crown of love
Adela
That broods on me, and is I, in the gondola.
They twist, they twine, these white and black canals,
Now stark with lamplight, now a reach of Styx.
Even as out love - raging wild animals
Suddenly hoisted on the crucifix
To radiate seraphic coronals,
Flowers, flowers - O let our light and darkness mix,
Adela,
Goddess and beast with me in the gondola!
Come! though your hair be a cascade of fire,
Your lips twin snakes, your tongue the lightning flash,
Your teeth God's grip on life, your face His lyre,
Your eyes His stars - come, let our Venus lash
Our bodies with the whips of Her desire.
Your bed's the world, your body the world-ash,
Adela!
Shall I give the word to the man of the gondola?
3.4k
Nothing is ever time wasted,
just the interlude to the rest of the album. Soon it becomes nostalgia. To think you almost pressed the skip button..
It's all about trying new things.
Slowing were briding the gap.
Looping untold tales of blues and jazz into our samples.
The things considered classical.
Instant vintage.
The things we keep hidden in headphones,
The venerability of hype.
It's always about the crowd.
Afraid to digest something different.
This was the first time I met her.
At first I laughed,
Reaction that I faced my own ignorance.
Listening again finding purpose.
Not knowing that we'd come to spend the rest of our lives together.
All three minutes and forty five seconds.
I was dishonest.
Not revealing anything real about myself until I heard it for the first time.
The first time she sung.
Music.
This wasn't an image to be upheld in front of others.
Or the gossip type spread circle to circle.
I was never exposed to this.
Skimming the top layer ready to press next.
Too far caught in the slander that first impressions can give.
History often repeats itself but this wasn't the case.
This was wholeheartedly the epitome of how she effected me.
The rhythm of how she moved.
How she spoke.
Like that I matured almost instantly.
She became my biggest influence.
A two way street that bridged the gap of my own ignorance.
After time I began to leave my headphones on the dresser.
We were amplified.
She'd follow me everywhere just as I'd follow her.
Soon it caught on to the masses.
Each and every thought became a publicist of what she'd recite over and over again.
A parental advisory issued with every cover.
Finding the one became a catalog.
Stumbling back to the first interlude all over again.
The copyright not for sell
Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 10:48 PM UTC
"Surreal skeptic, cynical cryptic! Licentious lecheries fabulist façade fantasias. Wild eyed spectral serene. Dream of catenary concoctions, ethereal salacious conjugation, bridge the gap in metaphysical mystique. Erotica erectile errantry’s exserted protuberance is a kinesiology kleptomaniac with his embark embargo extraditions and his eventuation evocative execrations, a positive amalgamated anathema android of a terminus thrall. The shadow in the shade of the silhouette sojourn. The bailiff’s rakeness rails incarnate, unicorn railway nails and all. He will paint mirador bartizan panorama tableaus all over your proximity parameter perimeter peripherals. Force the enmity to acquiesce into impunity.” “Why this is not but an ogling ogre of an oligarchy omelet” she shrieked as he continued to tickle her. “Down here at the bizarre bazaar we all believe in the blasphemous farcical fugueness,” he said. “Positive orchestration renditions of transpositional interlude.” “Come here,” she said “let my clambering clamorous clangor write you a wield wile treatise expose’.” “The legions of Chinga da are battling the hoards of Gunga din saying ‘kinetic supremacy temporize tractive fluent’ , it’s sheer genocide. That plasty goop nosed Gumby ****** Gunga doesn’t stand a chance. Coax cacophony clout, catatonic phonics, grizzly grotto grouches all”, She squealed. “Now you’re gumption dreaming”, he chimed. “Chutzpah panache spontaneous generation complicity, gambit alluvium aloof succor.”
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 7:17 PM UTC
_Loading "reality.exe." Please wait. (99%)_
Around you, the vivid shapes ebb;
recede and reduce to a wispy gossamer.
Look there! By the horizon:
glitter (or dust?) dissolving upwards,
a pirouette at the astronomical dawning
of consciousness.
This "hypnopompia": an intermission.
An interlude.
The in-between of inter-netted eternities.
_How long have you been here?
And have you been here before?_
You are nowhere. You are everywhere.
Perhaps it is time to wake up.
Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 10:23 PM UTC
Lousy with drowsiness
Trying to write
I succumb to the eyes’
Irresistible night
A serenity scenery
Reverie taunting me
Setting in stone
A tone
Ominous, haunting me
Ending, mind-bending me
Impending doom
As the dreaded contentment
An interlude tomb
Then begins to disturb
Me from thunderous slumber
A spark to revive
To describe my dead smile
Still playing alive
And imbibe the cascade
Conscious stream fear of falling
In love with the first sympathetic
Muse calling
Contained in a shattered frame
Out of its mind
Losing all track of time
Till the wake up call rhyme
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 4:07 PM UTC
Your First Marriage Anniversary with imagine that
It was pure love at start and that’s a fact
Together as one
Romance that brought you closer being among
But you both knew Husband and Wife became one
You looked into each other’s eyes
Faith was the key and that you realized
The words I love you was no surprise
Look into each other’s eyes inner emotions that will continue to rise
Cherish each given moment
Time after time
Continue to compliment one another being always combined
This year your first anniversary with many to follow as you continue to walk in intertwine
Whether you dine or sip a glass of wine
Always keep this in mine
Love is like clear blue skies
Together as one you both are wise
I see a white threshold rug that is love is pure and true
Continue in loving is what you both should pursue
Now take both your hands and say these exact words as if this was your actual wedding day to begin
“I love you now into everlasting”
One Kiss or many
You are love birds included is the interlude
Bliss in marriage and love that will continue to stand out
Happy Anniversary to my Cousin’s Diane and Larnell are my shout
Love to love
You both are precious Flying Doves
I raise my Glass in your honor
Congrats to you both and always remember the oath.
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 3:10 PM UTC
(other states of living)
under nyc rainclouds fermenting for
centuries in the ether machine
gazing across the width of an August interlude
to a clearing amongst the ashes
in the furnaces of destiny
when the dust of time settles
onto our outstretched hands
I will walk past the way of
all weariness and into your splintered eyes
until the path becomes clear
and i am reborn
a motherless child
of stellar regions
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 12:04 AM UTC
Stiletto heels and a push-up bra,
Hair piled high, bleached and toned and all…
That’s the way you used to shuffle around,
But you ain’t been much since your man went to town.
Who’s that a’ worrin’ bout them wrinkles and lines?
Is that the same broad who fell for all his lines?
Well, since he left you all you do is frown.
No, you ain’t done much since your man went to town.
You could’a picked a man who would’a cherished you
Once upon a time when love was fresh and new,
But you picked the one who was known all around.
Now, you ain’t known much since your man went to town.
(Interlude)
You could’a picked a man who would’a cherished you
Once upon a time when love was fresh and new,
But you picked the one who was known all around.
Now, you ain’t been much since your man went to town.
What’cha gotta to do to make it right
Is take your piece out of your purse, it’s a Saturday night.
What’cha gotta do is shoot him down,
‘Cause you cry too much since your man went to town.
(I'm still tweaking the arrangement. It should have an upbeat Little Richard or Ray Charles rock-n-roll mid-upbeat tempo with possibly hand claps on the downbeat like a spiritual chorus... since most early rock and r&b; musicians got their starts in small black southern Baptist churches. Let me know what you think. If it ***** tell me.
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC
Take me to a place,
Where promises meet the efforts,
Where sorrow meets the words.
Where complaint meets the conscience.
Where adulthood meets the innocence.
Where sufferings rhyme,
Where, even the the broken soul doesn't whine.
Where celestials I find solace in,
Where stellar healing is the ointment to each suffering.
Where tears stream yet soul doesn't haze,
Where in an open field of optimism my soul does graze.
Where happiness needs no reasons,
Where her loving tippet warms you in all the seasons.
Where the best thing I could befriend is my solitude,
Where the song of merry has no interlude.
Where every expression and word indubitably seem real,
That's the heaven or hell where the soul longs to indwell.
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 5:25 AM UTC
Welcome to my escape from reality…
A mirror to my soul,
My never-never land,
Understand?
A dream to write the words that whole world sing
or preach rather
in the hopes that maybe it’ll mean something when I’m gone…
my worst fear is wondering if this even matter when I’m gone
because the world’s being pulled by the influence of technology
and I’m hoping we don’t lose the basics in the process.
Excuse me miss,
May I tempt you with a verse?
and the contents of this book belong to,
the one and only…
James Desire
A clean slate on the date of January 26th
and I can’t believe it ended up like this
I mean how rap has become the nominator
and R&B; seems to have lost it’s appeal
what happened to the smooth seduction of the voice
From an introduction,
to the core of one’s soul
every note and rhythm makes us crave more…
and what happened to the women who believe in love
and the making of which could be so passionate,
You see all that’s needed is the right mood.
Don’t mean to intrude, but check out tracks 8 & 9 of Usher’s Confessions
That’s superstar and its interlude
and with a flow like woah
I make nonsense bring clarity
sincerely reaching into the inner depths of your mind
or even for some, their soul, just to let them know
We share something in common.
See what I’ve done is make a possibility for a connection
I long to bring a bit of understanding…
Between the few souls that float along with us on this rock called Earth.
Truly Yours,
James Desire
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 1:13 PM UTC
We have grown into fresh peaches,
Full blooming curves, rosy surfaces.
Each teeming with the desire
To be handled by a pair of hands.
So, tell me little peach,
How did it feel like to have your juice
Run down his throat?
We are no longer flower childs,
We are maidens, suddenly seated in front
Of the mirror, the ends of our hair
Carrying the weight of our youth.
Mornings, i sit with my knees
propped up like a temple and I pray
that love come as close as loneliness does.
(One night I tried to kiss my own arms
-a train track from elbows to wrists to fingers-
With the lights off. Was it my lips or arm that burned?
In the interlude of tears between my closed eyes
I wondered what it’ll be like
To have another claim me by the mouth
Like that.)
Even when I’m not in love
I’m more in love than you are
In love.
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 12:07 PM UTC
A man is a man
Is a man
He stands tall
With strong shoes
And blue jeans
And red wings
He does not strut
But
He owns the block
With his talk and walk
A man is a man
He understands
To be gruff is to be loved
To be aloof is to be good
Muscles to waste away
And away
And away
And
A man
Broke the rule
A man
Choked me through
Pulled me too close
Transparent as ghosts
An unyielding lust
To the horrors of man
Stare into fear
Such horrid leer
But please
Don't
Hurt
Me
So
I
Let
This
Man
Take and steal and scare and sing
Or better yet his radio sang
Such a long quiet sorrowful manly drive
For those who wish to thrive
Be a man?
No
Take a stand
For a man is a man is a man is
A
Man
Man
You broke my life
Left me as bile
But I'm still alive
With vision for miles
I see it clearly now
I see that a man is a man is a man
I understand
You're sad
Mar 12, 2019
Mar 12, 2019 at 10:10 PM UTC
I said I’d return
Some time ago
Anticipating it was true
But broken matter surrounded me
Now it’s tantalizing heartbreak
Followed by whispers in the night
It’s like I lied
And I stole from you
Now I’m lost
I’m sorry I’m such a lost cause
I’m sorry I made you tremble
But the tantalizing heartbreak told me
That I forgot you tonight
Please stay so near
I’m crying and weeping inside
Don’t placate my fears
Nothing matters
Can’t you see
I don’t care
Tantalizing heartbreak
Teaching me whispers and lies
I did lie
And I stole from you
I’m so lost
I’m sorry I’m such a lost cause
I’m sorry I made you tremble
But the tantalizing heartbreak told me
I forgot you tonight
You’re not safe here
You’re crying and weeping inside
I placated your fears
Everything matters to me
Can’t you see
I still care
The tantalizing heartbreak
Lied
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 11:46 AM UTC