"jades" poems
Open bramble gate, morning lets itself in,
eyes open in welcome. Water stirs – a
glance outside. A jade tiger rises,
blue herons fly to South Mountain.
~~~
Forage through herb abundance on South
Mountain sunlight pooled in cassia leaves.
It’s why you reclused here, hermitage entwined
in viridian mists. I find your footprints
headed to the clouds, so I leave this
poem on your wall and on a whim
ascend South Mountain ridges. Sticks
snap underfoot – blue herons startle away.
~~~
Boundless and empty to townsfolk,
South Mountain peaks. But here
immortals dance among indomitable pines.
Above the sun blue herons fly into
paper crumpled clouds – clouds the body,
clouds the wings. Sonorous bird song -
radiant clarity – makes mountain forests
sing, each beat moves the clouds, red
dust cleared from rivers and peaks,
ochre streams flood forests and fields,
canyons and gorges, jades and emeralds rise.
Petals scatter on crystalline swells, night
lengthens slowly – coldness wanders by
but I will linger here, a little longer.
Version 2
South Mountain peaks, boundless and empty to townsfolk.
But here immortals dance among indomitable pines.
Above the sun blue herons fly into paper folded clouds
- azure heaven change – clouds the body, clouds the wings.
Sonorous bird song radiant clarity – makes mountain forest sing,
each beat moves the clouds, red dust cleared from rivers
and peaks, ochre streams flood forests and fields,
canyons and gorges, jade and emerald rises.
Petals scatter on crystalline swells – night lengthens slowly -
coldness wanders by but I believe I will linger here, a little longer.
Version 3
South Mountain peaks, boundless and empty to townsfolk.
But here immortals dance among indomitable pines.
Above the sun blue herons fly into paper folded clouds
- azure heaven change – clouds the body, clouds the wings.
Sonorous bird songs radiant clarity – makes mountain forests sing,
each beat moves the clouds, red dust clears from rivers
and peaks. Streams of ochre flood forests and fields,
canyons and gorges, jades and emeralds rise.
Scattered petals on crystalline swells – night slowly lengthens -
coldness wanders by but I believe I will linger here, a little longer.
Jan 24, 2012
Jan 24, 2012 at 8:02 PM UTC
Oft have we trod the vales of Castaly
And heard sweet notes of sylvan music blown
From antique reeds to common folk unknown:
And often launched our bark upon that sea
Which the nine Muses hold in empery,
And ploughed free furrows through the wave and foam,
Nor spread reluctant sail for more safe home
Till we had freighted well our argosy.
Of which despoiled treasures these remain,
Sordello’s passion, and the honeyed line
Of young Endymion, lordly Tamburlaine
Driving his pampered jades, and more than these,
The seven-fold vision of the Florentine,
And grave-browed Milton’s solemn harmonies.
2.4k
Ive planted some posies in a jar
Kept safe in my fancy boudoir
To place in my pocket as I travel far
And mask the stench of my rotting scar
I color my body in a thousand shades
Of these flowers to prepare for the promenades
A fountain of people amongst the maids
To be served and serve as lost jades
I dance the steps proclaimed
With the slough of men famed
And blend with all women tamed
Reaking of the posies, my body inflamed
My soul screams for white wings
Of the dove as he sings
But as a marionette on strings
I must listen to my given kings
So like the flowers adorn
I'm the jewelry of this scorn
A lie amidst the torn
The princess never really born
Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 2:22 PM UTC
Whatever the case, it would have been better not to be born,
For no matter how interesting it is at every moment,
Life sometimes hurts, jades, cuts, bruises, grates,
Makes us want to scream, to jump, to wallow, to walk
Out of every house and every logic and off every balcony,
And to become savage and die among trees and things forgotten,
Among collapses and hazards and absence of tomorrows,
And all this, O life, should be something closer to what I think,
To what I think or what I feel, whatever that is.
I cross my arms on the table, I lay my head on my arms,
And I need to want to cry, but I don't know where to find the tears.
No matter how hard I try to pity myself, I don't cry,
My soul is broken under the curved finger that touches it . . .
What will become of me? What will become of me?
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 1:02 PM UTC
We eat in the restaurants
Eat in the bars
By the bistros
Against the street or on the ground
It does not matter where we are found
As we eat like we are dancing
With no one around
Who could possibly be watching?
Inside your own home
A house of a lone star
Impossibly pondering
How the pauper used wood
And turned it into cooking.
Food can be shared for
A life once cared for
Kept to yourself
Perhaps you beg not to share it
An octagon plate and octagon jades
Caramel vinegar rain
Tossing and turning with lightning veins.
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 10:54 PM UTC
Madison GRACE
Her Cello sings of beauty and earnest rays surene
Such a lovely Graceful Daffodil sitting atop the smiling Moon
Her beauty winks at the Moon which admires her beautiful face
Which brings such sunrays slanting and dancing through the world
And singing to it at Night and hushes the world to sleep
With her beautiful voice which matches her enchanting face
Everyone stops to smile at my Emerald gem sparkling
All day and all Night long bringing hope and bringing all the other lovely things
Snowflakes lacy and lovely kiss her smiling face. . .No she is the Snow
Which dances gracefully from the grey sky
And waltzing on the pine trees
My oh my such beauty she bears and such lovely Grace
She is the sun and it's rays dancing down from above
Sweetly she fills the world with love
Such gracefulness and peace comes from her
Flows from her like a sparkling creek dazzling my eyes
Shimmers like a lake and dazzling like a river
Like a gazelle she is graceful in every way
She is my old fashioned Victorian Princess
Of The Dew Kissed Hibiscus
And we walk through the Enchanted Hibicus Mountain
Full of peaceful solitude and beauty
Such extreme beauty matches that of my Madi's face
Full of tenderness, kindness, and love
As she flys upon wings of a dove
Bringing peace to all her see her
As she bestows them with gemstone leis
And Moonstone kisses--so enchanting on this
Romantic Night where Jades kiss her own
Emerald face of beauty and care!
~Marian~
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 5:51 PM UTC
The car was running smoothly.
Rattling
Underneath me
Were waves of jades and phosphorous
Blues tickling my imagination,
Urging me to forget the day spent toiling.
Pushing memories away from myself,
A mustard stained cloud
Shouted rays of white down through my windshield.
Fluttering eyelash wings shook
Hastily over blood-shot pupils hot from a knot
Deep in my stomach, my back, my thighs.
Below me, the bridge continued to rattle.
Off over and through the tunneled vision of commerce,
Questions arose in me that I could not answer.
Answers are remedies to an illness called "Why?"
Being free to live is a very hard thing to come by
Leaves only achieve freedom for a moment:
The stem thins
The stem breaks
The leaf drifts in
Angelic joy and indifference,
Plummeting towards a destination
They know not of or care.
Lo', the leaf, soon enough,
Reaches the place
They were always destined to be
I turn into the driveway
The lights are off inside
I sit in the car a moment
And push the memories farther way
To say to do or to lean on say
Is a very dangerous game to play
People expect what they pay for
And even after that
They will, the next time, be expecting more
Our flesh has been on this Earth a long time
Being our home, we are surrounded by our own kind
I play in the mazes of unbalanced theories of truth
Cheeks bleeding with mother Theresa searching for her tooth
And here, in the pit of all this time and space
My age tells me that living is not a race
The finish line is there and has been there
For every man and woman of every age
I swallow a bitter bite of the thin cold air
Reading through the mist:
Life is far harder when forced to care
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 2:49 AM UTC
8AM strikes like a *****
And romping the losing street -
The engineered reptile stalks the hound we are.
The soldiered army, oozing molten pride,
Spike me in the side with their knees
Lifted to caution, so-so below the chin
The cold, dead breath bullies like a child
Never been taught, never have they ought;
I give them pity like spit, the drool reared.
The glands of my sodden state are nucleic
They spark and fizz and pop at the slightest fix
And they mount the green turf as they say the things they say
They say them in spite
Their eyes to register a flat-line, the pulse of my eyelid
Froths staring into their granite granules, you call them eyes
I do despise, I do despise,
The heartless range of those hunter-deers,
The wet pathos that criminals invoke
And then, I woke, the rage, the rage!
A mountainous affair, cracked into your skin
You wished I were dead so you could be thin.
And when I am not hot,
Risen, aired by the microwaved Monday dawning,
I can almost laugh about the spaces between your eyes
The slight disgust, the frozen musk
Awns over me, little fist tight of pink
Ears rabbited off -- a sharp, twisted empale
And then, you are there--
Frozen and dominating, your coffin spooks to me
A spoken longing and then all we know wilts
A running red cloak of tartan regrets
Jades the illicit wail bespoken after the instrumental twist
The torture device you call your words is broken out
I ask for one thing, beg for it, screech it
To the solars like I am owed.
Knowing Death, if not heed, the spited greed--
Give me strength, for the thoughts
The thoughts, that blow through me
Windswept, gliding the dead human ash through my marsh
Do not upturn the limped greyed grass
And blow through, a harmless storm,
With nothing to say about how I carry my day.
Move on to your homeward-bound, your
Concentration plantation, reeling off dead spinners
Like your words, your cold ******* words.
You slimy ******* you ****
I have spoken, one million syllables,
For your satisfaction.
You lord it over me like a raw-meat hand
Of the disciples. Well, well, Judas, Judas --
I bite my tongue. I bite it so it jades.
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 12:48 PM UTC
*Spirited soul's bluest hood
covers your greeting smile;
We recognize our aspiring
wishes to gaze near the source
core, the centers of playful galaxies
arisen in one swift loving gesture
You said you're hitchhiking
toward my theater of dreams
I affirmed, smiling, as I stumbled
a bit; wanting to sit by your side
You, willing to recognize our
sweet holly humourous deeds
Even when the presence is murky
you shine green jades and gems
Flamboyant friend from along
Unexpected academic creatio
Having a premonitive chance
that next time we will coalesce
More than we ever expected. . .*
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 5:10 AM UTC
Un cielo de oro y de brasas
Un río de plata fina
Y Fray Bentos de esperanza,
Crece que crece en la orilla.
La paz jovial es su rosa
De Jericó, en la cintura.
Cantan antiguos bambúes
Bajo sus claros de luna.
Y canta el viento costeño
Coplas de islas y peces
Mientras el río jocundo
Deshila azules y verdes.
En la fragua de su ocaso
La noche se purifica
Tan leve y tan silenciosa
Como un racimo de lilas.
Fray Bentos lleno de duende
¡Qué buena para mi alma
Tu dulce vida perfecta!
¡Qué buena que en tí ha de ser
La riqueza de una casa
Y de un jardín de rosales
Hasta la orilla del agua!
Un crepúsculo me diste
En añiles y agapantos
Como yo nunca había visto
Si no en gladiolos y cardos.
Quizá Blanes lo soñaba
Y Cúneo tal vez un día,
Lo vea y ponga en sus cielos
De lunas y Tres Marías.
Guárdame, ciudad de gracia.
Un hueco para mi sueño,
En tu playa de bambúes
En tu placita de encuentros.
Un día yo iré a pedirte
Un vaso de agua una tarde
de magnolias y duraznos
De cielo en oro y jades.
¡No tengo más que un romance
Para tu arcángel del aire!
¡Fray Bentos: tómamelo
Como si fuera un diamante!
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Castles in the air
Made of the cool beige sand
Is where my princess
Is going to live today
She is a princess
And all her gowns are silver
Her crowns are made of rubies and jades
She wears long emerald necklaces
Her slippers are made of crystal glass
And bless her golden heart
For she's going to soar
Upon dusty pink gossamer wings
With swirls made of glitter
To her castles of sand
Built in the sapphire sky
~Marian~
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 11:34 AM UTC
In the heat of the night
He took her hand and hid her fright
She came along, young and naive
Looking back, never once a thought of leave
They held on to those days
Through months of hurt, a gentle haze
Words of passion, tears of shame
Through it all that day had came
Confusion stripped them raw
Cutting deep like a bloodied saw
Pushed and pulled, emotions took their toll
Packed his things, the taxi ready to roll
The sun bore down, blazing hot and red
His string drew back slow in stead
A cool wind swept a chill across his arm
She held on to his promise to cause no harm
A somber air filled him as he readied
He stopped with a stark glance at the target, heart heavy
He noticed nothing but the pale curve of skin
Where his arrow would stick in
She smiled and said "hello dear"
The arrow let out; the string hit, slap! Clear
The fire whirled across the blade
She warmed to him, the love they made
He smiled and set the bow down
He stood steady as the arrow drown
Her shock came in flows of blood
Her tears wet her heart in profounded flood
One last time her lips he kissed
Then strode away knowing he never missed
She collapsed to the ground
Her heart pained, no longer able to sound
Days passed her in a daze
It took time but she outlived that phase
Bitterness came and went
With others her time she spent
Her wound now stitched together
He is still her number one choice in forever
She knows now that love jades
But with keeping strong heartbreak eventually fades
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 1:23 PM UTC
Part II
Your tears turned to jades
And you turned to gold
Your beauty shimmered and sparkled
Above all instruments
Because you're more beautiful
Than them all
Because
You are
My
Weeping Angelic Harp
~Marian~
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 9:20 PM UTC
The world is not only
The shining right light of white
And the depraved dark depths of black
I won't even go on
About the moral grey shades in between
Mottled like a city pigeon's tail feathers
Because there are
Royal eruditious blues
Mischievous swirled jades
Passionate scarlets
Playful tangarine oranges
Inoccent pastel yellows
Regal deep reds
Mysterious deep purples
Curious robin egg blues
Righteous yellow oranges
Tranquil summer greens
Bubbly social pinks
Patient shades of indigo
Cautious neon colors
Pure-hearted golds
Clear minded silvers
And ultraviolets of feelings yet to be defined
And if I'm looking at the world
I want to see it in full spectrum
May 13, 2017
May 13, 2017 at 8:30 PM UTC
Green coated so rarely you see
Seeking meals of small games.
Absolutely silent flows fluidly
Where their fork tongues aim.
Natives inhibit in leafy shades
In trees of canopies high above.
With scales gleaming like jades
Dances to beating drum of love.
Equally well adapted in suburbs
They come in the vicinity of man.
Here the danger lies colours rubs
Into shrubs and bushes to blend.
Via the tip of each tongue winds
Into a Jacobson's ***** impulses
Of the air they kissed send finds
What ahead can satisfy hungers.
Darkest pair of mouths in Africa
Ajar in sheer delight in weird grin
Of secrets hidden uncovered aha!
Food served without obvious sin.
Slides over a nest and exclaims
Death two birdies in cradle ouch.
Yet another victim Africa claims.
I moan not as I lay on my couch.
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 8:52 PM UTC
I saw it on the news today
The details violent and gory
Another tragic death they say,
But it's just another story.
Another headline until it fades
From the collective memory.
Interest sadly quickly jades,
Attention spans last briefly.
Look at the war in Syria,
It never gets a mention
Nor do Egypt or Libya,
Is it done with conscious intention?
Or is it just that humanity
Has such a short attention span,
That self interest and vanity
Trump any care for their fellow man?
Tom Higgins 09/04/2014
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 5:02 AM UTC
I saw the world upside
today,
tethered
to steel,
zipping on a different plane,
higher than a soaring kite,
I did not fight the speed.
I saw malachites & cobalts,
jades & azures,
a screaming stream,
brilliant
switling
turned-up
leafy-canopies
& a few busted toes.
Don't you know.
Heaven sees us like this....
kissing the sky.
O Dear Lord,
I need to feed
my adrenalin monkey,
who's hanging on my back,
'bout to break me.
Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 10:01 AM UTC
*The truth is the sun
burning through layers of faces
my graciousness
and alienation from god's ways
your bleed heart
strained within my web,
another prey,
sniffing illusive poison
from my painted daisy
true,
am just a flower
beauty lasts not,
but fades,
to bring a winter's cold
an addictive intoxication,
the aromatic jades,
where white, pink,
and purple petals,
colour the sky
into a grey,
the girl beneath,
A thousand years,
of tears and heartache
when her lover,
walked away
If love is wrong,
she hugged onto its wheels,
To hell's gates anyway
What has, or to be,
is beautiful
just a flower
that we love till it withers
into petals of sadness,
or memories of a worthwhile*
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 6:44 AM UTC
bodies familiar in the hues
of a dying day
in the shadows, in the shade
blacks and grays,
indigos and jades
whispers muted in the last
gasps of light
our language,
words knit into the night
our vision, monochromatic --
your breaths,
the moon,
my static
Jun 13, 2019
Jun 13, 2019 at 9:32 PM UTC
Aux Nuits de Pékin,
Pékin ! Il est déjà trop **** le nom est prononcé
Je suis emportée dans tes tourbillons colorés
J’ai vu des saphirs, des jades de glaise
Mais ai fuis, hélas ! A mon coeur ce malaise !
Comme une passive résilience
Sans reste là- Et reste le silence…
To Beijing’s nights,
Gates to Oblivion
Beijing - Already too late - it is said,
I am whirled up into your luminous flows,
I have seen sapphires, jades of clay,
I fled alas! Now my heart is torn!
It was like a passive resilience,
Apart from me, the rest is silence…
May 11 2012
Montpellier, France
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 9:21 AM UTC
MOTECUHZOMA
It is their chief that most perplexes me.
Send him my greeting, and convey to him
The gifts I have equipped for your encounter:
A turquoise serpent mask, a pearl-decked shield
With feathered fringe as gossamer as foam,
I’ll send the rain god’s legendary headdress
Of quetzal feathers, green as sprouting grass,
Fine, snail-shell collars, dainty golden bells,
A saffron helmet chased with dazzling stars,
Sandals obsidian-black- What riches more,
I have not breath in this old chest to list.
TEUHTLILLI
By your good will, I might unfold for him
The vestments which are worn by several gods:
Tezcatlipoca’s mirror, and Tlaloc’s jades,
Huitzilopochtli’s gilded helm, and such.
If he reach straight for the regalia
Of Quetzalcoatl- Well, who need say more?
MOTECUHZOMA
A thoughtful move. And, if not gods themselves,
They yet may be our wandering ancestors.
See if their speaker is the picture of
A homeward-bound, long-absent patriarch.
Especially take note if he admits,
Or claims, he is your rightful king. What more?
TEUHTLILLI
Should I purvey a spread of birds and game,
And mark how fluently he dines or not?
If he is from our far-flung lineage,
He ought to be familiar with our fare.
MOTECUHZOMA
Do so. But if, by chance, he shuns your board,
And does not hanker for such bill of fare,
But rumbles with a yen for human flesh,
Why, then allow yourself to be consumed.
I will ensure the welfare of your wife,
And guide your children.
TEUHTLILLI As you wish, my lord. Exit.
Jul 16, 2017
Jul 16, 2017 at 1:24 PM UTC
No wonder each tickle is seismic
There are mountains in your fingerprints
Tiny topographic maps
I want to sculpt a range of them
All peaks, plateaus and lowest points
All jades and pines and shades of you
And epoxy brooks will pool
Where swirls of myself etch the plaster
For if I touch you,
I thirst to water you
I thirst to water you
Feb 21, 2020
Feb 21, 2020 at 2:23 AM UTC
Her lips **** cigarettes
& her mouth looks tasty,
she cares about nothing.
She struts
her soft tail feathers in my face,
I love her stripes
& black lace
& tight corsets,
those long legs
rock me.
Her lashes
accentuate her pretty jades,
the flowing curls tease,
they make me drop
down to my knees.
O, Sweet Jesus
please,
she's not like other girls,
I just know,
she's made for me.
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 6:31 AM UTC