"invigorate" poems
Not an enigmatic smile
Like the constipated, condescending smirk
Adorning, and inexplicably adored, on the Mona Lisa's smug face;
But a smile to justify God's existence;
A smile that, when dazzlingly bestowed
Upon one fortunate soul, caught rabbit-like in its
Wondrous radiance, infinitesimally, and cumulatively,
Increases the World's joy. Where every living thing -
Whatever exists on the planet, imperceptibly hums
To a new, more celestial pitch -
An effervescent vibration celebrating Life's mysteries:
A reason for existence.
It's a smile to make an Alchemist cry -
Turning a leaden heart to gold in an instant.
It's a smile to make a mediocre poet struggle
To articulate an adequate description
Using all the hyperbole, simile and metaphor at his limited disposal.
Inestimably more brilliant, and more valuable,
Than the most flawless diamond ever found -
And, perhaps, just as rare.
Thankfully, a renewable resource,
Enabled to enlighten and heat
The recesses of any beneficiary's
Heart and invigorate their soul.
Helen may have caused a thousand ships to sail,
Destroying a nation as a consequence;
And Cleopatra nearly caused the collapse of an Empire;
But Tao's smile, unleashed in all its glory
Could melt the Antarctic ice-sheet -
Drowning us all in its magnificence.
Mayan's have a myth that states such a smile
Only comes around once every twelve thousand years,
In the Great Galactic turning.
Einstein's General Theory of Relativity
Is often mistakenly considered to concern gravity,
But is, in fact, concerned with one's relative position
To Tao's smile - an inescapable vortex of pleasure.
No music conceived of the fabled Celestial Spheres
Compares to the silent, ethereal harmonies tattooing my heart
Whenever, beacon-like, that smile flashes fleetingly in my direction.
And Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle has not a Quantum core,
But revolves around the statistical uncertainty of being blessed
With the ephemeral thrill of a benign grim.
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 9:49 AM UTC
death mourns a life
that succumbs to suicide...
classical lawless-ness?
calls the jyst...
a thieving;
a stolen death,
a suicide....
bride riddled to a bridge...
baking...
left half awake and half baked...
you count with the number of
blinding equations...
your 80+ segments?
i want nothing to be part of,
whether polymath,
bilingual, or polymath...
you resd yourself into "it"....
fuck you, and...
**** off...
in terms of .gif ***** files...
no... the part where
we don't parrot?
for no worthwhile surprise!
death is alal b & w...
memory?
all invigorating sepia...
life?
the blooming of color...
you take shrooms,
to invigorate the colors?!
oh look...
you're as loony as me...
and why would i
give a **** about your
tall-tales of subversive religiosity?!
you're right!
like you have been with me
to begin with...
there aren't any!
now?!
suffer!
you're in good hands...
turns out?!
i'm a sadist...
i somehow tested the pain on myself...
i enjoy...
the pain, of others,
having, prior, teased the pain
on, myself!
i forgot teasing the pain...
i taste it...
i welcome it...
i've become welcoming
in allowing it,
a stature abbreviating a transcendence
of victim-hood!
i need pain,
to craft an erasure of ever having
the capacity to instruct
a modus operandi for pleasure!
death contra suicide...
a fact contra a premature contest
of pleasure...
suicide is what
death calls thief...
there is no moral artifact
of a "question"...
suicide is the thief,
when death is the executioner...
what moral question is
to be entertained?
non!
i can't blame the mortality
arsonist...
less Tartarus and more Gehenna...
less S.S. and more khaki
S.A. night of the broken windows
and less...
hyper-Hindu
reincarnation,
hue hue grey...
woo woo the ashen pillage...
no... i'm not here for the
cinder and the ********
it's enough that i drink
the sort of excuse,
that sober people could hardly make
excuses about...
and that's enough...
and enough, is, where i'll stick to.
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 10:22 PM UTC
It was as it had been, but the
Ring of oak
Shattered,
What was locked behind
Ventured Forward caressing
Bark,
Leaf,
Wood
Was tainted upon its departure.
Hollow structure, a leaf now skeletal
In a moment decayed from life,
Did touch upon depressed oak.
And like ash it was pollen of death, in
What once stood tall, faded into oblivions halls.
All but one did fade to the winds,
As freed upon the world old evil,
Not one noticed, never seen,
This oak of strength from which acorns
Did fall,
Sunken beneath the ground,
Nurtured by the nature, now scarred
Upon black seeds
Corrupting,
Tormenting,
Stained
Is the ground, but these majestic little
Things grow, sprout from the ill ground.
Where tainted now roots invigorate
New growth, the evil is herded upon
This ancient ground, where many had fell,
Now new ones take the places of old,
They are a beacon of strength as that which
Was loose now in this ring of oak.
Buried for time once more for each one
That falls, another acorn will fall to take its
Majestic place,
The old ring of oak, canopy of secrets hoping never to be told.
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 7:15 PM UTC
Wondering through
the complex mazes
of the wind,
trying to feel beyond
what I cannot see;
trying to see beyond
what I can feel ―
The echoes of the breeze
invigorate the stillness
The weight
of a world heavy
expands like the traces
of life lived
packed deeply beneath
jagged fingernails
Lost in the wilderness
of my soul,
a feral wind
abides silently
as I wonder alone
from end to end
... side to side
through a portal
shapeless as the wind
Blinded by a collective
bioluminescent light
rooted deeply within,
intimately touching
crystalline fountains
as the deepest pools
of innate blackness unfold
in the wake
I reverently touch
the inward rhythm
where a heart strong
runs alone …
feeling its
pulsing cadence
quake and thunder
in reach …
Rivulets thrumming across
the burgeoning blossom
of soothing netherworld seas
Washing away
all the memories made
like the shapeless waves of wind
moving the stillness
beyond
wild is the wind ... 1. 27. 2017
Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 8:21 PM UTC
Who will talk now with common man gesture?
Who will give message now about humour and giggle of life?
Who will play the character now which can rejuvenate farmer’s dream?
We miss you,
In all occasion of acuity to animate!
But we will carry your message of humour and giggle of life
To invigorate and survive,
Lead towards simplicity and acuity!
Hope you will be there in golden paddy field,
In the blue river,
In green mountain
To remind us
About humour and simplicity of life!
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 12:13 PM UTC
A scarlet sky besets the realm around me
Welcoming my existence to the plateau of life which I sought with great determination
Scarlet leaves dexterously fall to the floor with nimble grace
The cries of angelic beings invigorate my ears
I can only see their scarlet eyes as they observe me from the heavens above
And her scarlet hair which was more refined than honored silk itself
Swings in the wind as she faces me with a curious look of inquisition
The wind caresses her scarlet dress causing it to dance with a rhapsody of acceptance
Her gentle aura rivets our actuality as she extends her hand to me
Her dominion is now the reality in which I lie dormant
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 2:30 AM UTC
Cyan
has such a brackish mark
upon your passive visage-
it transfigures boldly, tempestuously
any average glance flung facetiously in my direction.
Dearest Rogue Element,
You invigorate all other
salient features.
Like the slip of a blunt knife,
you surge open your soul, compelling
any audacious personality to bleed through the wound of your
gaping irises.
You betroth yourself to
the Fascinating, the Creative,
and like the cascade of clearest french horn lamentation-
you stir my
emotions with a mournful compassionate caress.
And that’s the difference.
The mellow mahogany of my eyes
provides the most loving background for Light to
reflect her dancing valiance with reverent adoration.
But-
your Blue
will
forever
stride as the
arrogant foreground.
Commanding and eternally vexing, (captivating) me
with your gaudy juxtaposition
of angry intensity
and poignant serenity.
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 4:11 AM UTC
There is a transect from colour to colourless,
There is a traversing from sunup to sunset!
A track from vividness to lifelessness!
****
Morning brings colour to life
Birds sign and fly, hark back splendour of work,
Butterfly invigorate redden of existence
Existence of life in the doodle nature
Every one blossom for breathing!
****
But we are waiting for dusk
Becoming everything murky
Than eliminate nature from life
Carnage everything with our manliness
and swollen with pride!
Feb 8, 2016
Feb 8, 2016 at 11:04 AM UTC
Days are splendorous,
in the royal color wash,
and frost,
of November.
Four thirty is a burning torchlight
of reminiscence.
November,
older,
wiser,
But similar,
in the way that air,
is a rustle of crisp leaves,
and emotions that,
stretch across the horizon,
like an autumn parade.
Familiar,
in the way that,
shifting parameters of light,
invigorate and disturb.
Prodigious,
whispering of enchantment,
and it's Siamese twin,
disillusionment.
November,
That lingers like a somber melody,
or a dense beat,
hanging on the evening wind,
Whose disruptive energy,
is portentous,
of wakeful nights to come.
That shimmers,
and shivers,
and sings,
sending a mating call,
to ravenous winter.
November,
is a communicable pheromone,
am aphrodisiac,
A crescendo.
The yearly succubus,
crowned,
in her raucous display,
of jewels,
Her ingenious distraction,
as she drains the world
of warmth,
and daylight.
And I am hallowed.
November's champion,
riding the dark,
like a faithful steed.
A cowgirl about town.
An outlaw,
blown in on a strident wind,
Primed to partake,
of libation and lechery,
because I am restless,
and it is too brisk to wander.
November is distilled,
and flows like hot cider,
steaming in the faces,
of days it leaves cold.
It is one thousand proof,
and permeates breath vapor,
each small fog,
that lingers like an apparition.
Shades of November,
fettered from dissipation,
as winter,
in search of answers,
clutches at the evidence of its becoming.
Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 11:10 PM UTC
Bernie frames the TV
between his feet--
left hand remote,
beer bottle balanced
by his right—
clicks through half-time shows,
clicks like shooting a gun, a Fazer,
a death-ray secret weapon,
clicks just to do it, an idiot’s
smile faint on his face.
he sees only noise
Emma tends her stamps,
perched on the plain board chair
she upholstered herself—
its arms worn, warm,
warmly welcoming—
her back to her husband,
her life as wife and mother
coming to a languid close.
she tastes some regret--
yet spicy with passion--
where life has had its way with her.
The rug’s bright stew of colors
can’t hide everything
children spilled
when they were young--
juices, milk, soup, sauce, tears;
little dreams,
tiny heartbreaks,
minor crises
ground into the weave;
all the gooey pastries, cookie crumbs,
blood and sweat and nightmares congealed
into solemn patina--
I see protects it from time.
These solid objects—
stout, no-nonsense chair
wearing gouges, marks,
discolorations of use
and years like badges;
fat, chunky, cigarette-burned
BarcaLounger, drunk
from drink spilled
on every surface,
handle supple
as a young girl’s wrist,
swirling a territorial aura
around its microscopic
sphere of the universe;
and the rug…
unassuming, proletarian,
handmade and honest,
each scrap of fabric
chosen by the weaver’s hand,
now useful again,
reveling in redemption—
these solid objects
invade,
infuse,
invigorate
otherwise empty space,
squeeze meaning from the world
around them,
same as the hand of the artist
sculpts love from her heart
to give them life.
The children have moved away
Old friends are dying every day
Stamps no longer can be licked
There is no way to interdict
The Jets are losing again
Feb 6, 2011
Feb 6, 2011 at 12:13 PM UTC
Verily the exordium told anent a beauty engirdled in her fedora
soliciting those whoever descried her into her mere servile admirer
eight trenchant tinctures upon her body invigorate like a cadenza
I dare not to contradict the verity that I am beguiled afore her
whilst the snain distilled faintly enwreathed her in unctuous silk
concordantly she devote herself earnestly to the impeccable rain
that emanate her fragile poetry with prestidigitation in a whisk
forsooth she is but the vernacular sobriquet to the soul of the rain
recall me otherwhile during the rainstorm champagne did coerce
and the sunset's glass of wine exude her ingratiating persona
like a myriad of aphrodisiac summarized in a single verse
when harmony and lyrics danced in the crepuscular crescendo
all of that needed to be enunciated is it is you
do not harshly let me be thy unrequited dilettante
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 4:27 AM UTC
~
Human love enhances floating dust particles
Platanas autumn colours invigorate this day
Between half open eyelashes Sun rays refract
The bountiful light in delicate rosette offering.
~
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 10:31 AM UTC
the Webster's, the Merriam's,
residents of the Oxford
say not,
an exclamation or a noun,
but an action,
a doing word,
not so much...
as a poet~sorcerer
digressing rules,
is my input
appetizer,
poems, my exported
entrées
all posted to be
dessert
for all the sweet tooth
parts of you
all to
feast on this
process,
when I
hallelujah you...
"Praise the Lord"
the translation literal
but sojourn herewith me
for a few extants,
together, let's
invigorate, expand the
understanding of an ever expansive
definition...
if I ever fall out of love,
with natural words,
can no longer
hallelujah/scribe
to memorialize
why we claim,
we are alive....
hallelujah's
praises
for you all the
master designers'
praiseworthy creations,
an extension of themselves,
they said
in each human
godlike spark
hallelujah installed
there is nothing more
godlike
than being
human,
so when I
hallelujah
I praise each and everyone
it is a mixologist's dream,
some of it a
thank you,
some of it a
your welcome,
all of it a
celebratory exercise,
in appreciation,
of the finery of what we can
be
come
greater
through
the words
of our blood
transfused
Oh!
act out Hallelujah,
write it as if you must
urgent do
Hallelujah,
do it
not just now but,
Selah!
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 5:18 PM UTC
.few people don't know, unless they read Sienkiewicz... but the Marienburg Castle at Malbork... was originally constructed from white, & ghostly grey brick... not red brick... the red bricklayers came with it being destroyed from the German erasing their shame at it being, claimed... the whole structure used to be a ghostly shaman color of fog... partly white, partly grey... but never... exactly... red brick...
did you know that the Teutonic Order
was the first to invigorate /
or rather instigate the primordial
concept of a... post office?
well... i guess somehow had to write
out the demise of the concept,
or be caught up in it, reaching
the 100m finish line.
those monks really invented /
invested / investigated
the premise of a post-office...
shame, really,
that the post-office is
lying on the death bed...
and the only "thing" that cana
rekindle it is...
a relapse into postcards...
which will never happen...
just as hand writing will
collapse into:
nothing more than a scrawly
stature of pseudo-literacy -
of a signature.
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 5:26 PM UTC
Following the path less traveled not
*** you must be frolecking Fool King
Energize Invigorate Assimilate Stimulate
Spermatozoon soldiers within veins burlesque uterine
De construct the artery leading the pineal gland
Conduct bypass surgery of the Amygdala Beast
Ache take over the Beat mind the creep off melting
His brain drained Kriss Kross naked leave faded in vain
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 11:27 AM UTC
Sizzling day of summer heat,
Requisite hydration I really need,
No rain, no precipitation today,
Brilliant azure, no clouds this day,
I stood alone, poised, impermeable,
Damp crystallisation so feasible,
From this diving board I spring,
Invigorate me, I commence to sing,
But! I forgot I'm way too old,
Man, this water's really cold!!!!!!
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 3:34 PM UTC
I inhale fuchsia
I feel amethyst purple envelope me
I breathe out turquoise
I crave coral
I cling to royal blue
I am entranced by lilac
I let maraschino cherry red invigorate me
I spy light spring green
Navy sails away with me
I get elegantly persuaded by classic black
every stitch
has my rapt attention
nuances take center stage
each piece
has a tale
to spin
of past encounters
while fantasies of
future engagements
shine brilliantly on teeming racks.
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 12:52 PM UTC
You’re left at the back, anxious at sunrise
as day by day we drift through consciousness.
Ring the Bell. These thoughts are your demise
Act profound, fixating us with lies
Invigorate a prompt adress;
your qualms are back, anxious at sunrise
You’re mother’s boy, your father’s eyes
they know first hand, you’re prone to stress:
so ring the bell. Your thoughts: our demise.
Refrain from fear, nor anthropomorphise:
doe’s endear, their bliss is careless.
You’re stuck at the back, anxious as sons rise
and fall or fail to climb. Surprise,
surprise, with fear of death you now obsess,
over the bell. Our words: your demise.
They say you’re fine, you compromise,
it’s in your head, that last abscess.
You’re left to rot; absent at sunrise
they’ve all forgotten. Those thoughts, your demise.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 6:24 AM UTC
Poets of old sang of a garden so beautiful
Even time stops there to stand and stare
Its crystal springs will invigorate souls
Its fruits of nectar will sensually soothe
Its shades will induce a blissful sleep
Its flowers bloom to an infinite hue
To find this elusive garden so beautiful
A treacherous trek one must undertake
On unmarked trails and crumpling bridges
With blistered soles and grumbling stomachs
Short-cuts there are, but who knows to where
For no one's come back or reached the other end
Trek past meadows, valleys, fiords and peaks
Their beauty will compel you to stand and stare
The trees will call you to their fruits and shade
Tired limbs will beg you to rest and rejuvenate
So tarry a while, to enjoy the fruits and views
But tarry too long and you'll forget the way...
To that Garden ever so beautiful
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 8:45 AM UTC
Have you ever had one of those days
Where you just feel sane?
No reason to why
The clouds just withhold all their rain
And you're sailing on your way...
Have you ever had one of those days
Where everything feels strange?
Like nothing is original
And passing thoughts cant be tamed?
Have you ever had one of those days
Where the suns rays penetrate and renovate
Invigorate your being
Leaving you feeling as though you can touch the highest of ceilings?
Have you ever had one of those days
Where everything thing happens all at once
One minute your napping
The next your arms are flapping
Getting stressed and restless
Relentless flitting decisions
Narrowing tunnel vision
Hearing that's constantly shifting
Contracting and relaxing
Entangling webs and..
Have you ever had one of those days...
Where you wanted to write about it?
Apr 16, 2022
Apr 16, 2022 at 5:49 PM UTC
What shadows eclipse my careful judgment?
With what violence does the Earth resist my weight?
Stand, must I, despite the rebellious
nature of the tremor underneath my gait
Oh to borrow Atlas' strength for my burden
For Hercules to sharpen and connect the twine
Powering my muscle to match the uncertain
force and ferocity and finish of time
Oh in banishment from the garden we forever fall
And collapse into chasms beneath the soil
Excavated too resignedly by the hands
of men unwilling to share our toil
But mine is the young spirit daily forged
With Death's lasting measure tarnished and torn!
My yoke and the blood loosed beneath it
Invigorate my being; reborn, Reborn!
Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 1:53 PM UTC
1.Tried, but I couldn't take my eyes off her,
she left happily with my eyes allover her.
2.Her eyes were two deep, blue pools,
together,they'll invite me to swim in them,
wasn't I naive to think the other would
get jealous,if i decide to jump in to one
when I saw getting reflected on both,at once
I realized,how easily love took me for a ride!
3.She was a creature,created for delight,
each part,even a strand of hair, strange
had an effect on my senses any time
and I was made to be attuned to her always!
each act of her could both invigorate or tranquilize.
but only on their own sweet will,i found
The effects of a psychedelic drug,I felt
in her presence, one I have never ever taken!
4.My error quotient goes perilously high,
when you are somewhere near tome and sigh!
5.With her feminine fingers locking mine,
my imagination quickly flies sky high
two interstellar travelers are you and I
ready to live out there,on sky in a new high,
without bothering to care for logistics!
6.With each of your love bites arousing,
I fire all my rockets,roaring skywards.
Your teeth play a naughty hide and seek
with my earlobes,I get so wild,you get thrilled
taken over by a seizure,I feel eyes blue simply ecstatic!
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 5:18 PM UTC
I hear it in the twilight there; the
Head of Orpheus singing
It comes out of the black earth shining
Wrapped in a cloak of shadows
Who can trace it or predict its path or flight
Ink stained wings beating the air
In the clap and the step of the flamenco
Dancer
The last breath of the bruised guitar
The hand of the trembling poet who
Channels lightning terrible and swift
It moves in creation as well as destruction
The onyx statue that waits in the desert
To be worn down by wind and sand and Time
The canvas of the purple and yellow dawn
And the artist that summons it like a daemon
The fallen angel polishing the skull of a once
Great King
In crypts and cathedrals
In chapels and temples
And the sacred groves when so moved to
Animate and waken there where it dwells
In the deepest recess of the mind
I call
Do you hear me my secret twin?
I summon, I invoke you
I break these manacles that enslave
You to Time
I free you from the battlefields where
Blood and bone stain and scrape
Consecrated ground
Come and invigorate these pale limbs
Brink your black fire and death song
To all who seek to know your name
Sep 15, 2010
Sep 15, 2010 at 11:04 AM UTC
Heavenly downpour is here
To wash away every fear,
Cleanse the impure souls
And actualize unachievable goals
Heavenly downpour is here
To make the leaves and flowers
Bloom by her superpowers;
The birds dance happily and stare
Heavenly downpour is here
To carry the burdens we couldn't bear;
Enthrone the gloomy slaves
And enliven corpses in the graves
Heavenly downpour is here
To drown faithless failures and sins
And celebrate the lasting wins
To prove that she truly care
Heavenly downpour is here
To announce another harvest year;
Farmers till and toil the land,
Hoping for bountiful harvest as planned
The cloud cackles and tickles
As she sent down her blessings
To the deserted earth in trickles
Touching the trees by caressings
Children play hide and seek
Both the strong and the weak;
The pitapats of hails on the roofs
Invigorate homes to sing and hoofs
Couples savour the blissful breeze,
The scented moment drew their lips
As their hearts and mouths freeze,
Holding hands and waists in grips
Sep 12, 2020
Sep 12, 2020 at 5:23 PM UTC