"joyance" poems
They say a sister is a blessing
your behavior has me guessing
An absolute annoyance
With a pinch of joyance
From constant fights
To proving you're right
Disliked since the birth
Cause you make hell on earth
You act like a *****
we both know who’s a little *******
A pillar of hope
But forever my dope
Sep 4, 2019
Sep 4, 2019 at 11:07 AM UTC
Clearly the blue river chimes in its flowing
Under my eye;
Warmly and broadly the south winds are blowing
Over the sky.
One after another the white clouds are fleeting;
Every heart this May morning in joyance is beating
Full merrily;
Yet all things must die.
The stream will cease to flow;
The wind will cease to blow;
The clouds will cease to fleet;
The heart will cease to beat;
For all things must die.
All things must die.
Spring will come never more.
O, vanity!
Death waits at the door.
See! our friends are all forsaking
The wine and the merrymaking.
We are call'd--we must go.
Laid low, very low,
In the dark we must lie.
The merry glees are still;
The voice of the bird
Shall no more be heard,
Nor the wind on the hill.
O, misery!
Hark! death is calling
While I speak to ye,
The jaw is falling,
The red cheek paling,
The strong limbs failing;
Ice with the warm blood mixing;
The eyeballs fixing.
Nine times goes the passing bell:
Ye merry souls, farewell.
The old earth
Had a birth,
As all men know,
Long ago.
And the old earth must die.
So let the warm winds range,
And the blue wave beat the shore;
For even and morn
Ye will never see
Thro' eternity.
All things were born.
Ye will come never more,
For all things must die.
2.8k
When the lucent skies of morning flush with dawning rose once more,
And waves of golden glory break adown the sunrise shore,
And o'er the arch of heaven pied films of vapor float.
There's joyance and there's freedom when the fishing boats go out.
The wind is blowing freshly up from far, uncharted caves,
And sending sparkling kisses o'er the brows of ****** waves,
While routed dawn-mists shiveroh, far and fast they flee,
Pierced by the shafts of sunrise athwart the merry sea!
Behind us, fair, light-smitten hills in dappled splendor lie,
Before us the wide ocean runs to meet the limpid sky
Our hearts are full of poignant life, and care has fled afar
As sweeps the white-winged fishing fleet across the harbor bar.
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The sea is calling to us in a blithesome voice and free,
There's keenest rapture on its breast and boundless liberty!
Each man is master of his craft, its gleaming sails out-blown,
And far behind him on the shore a home he calls his own.
Salt is the breath of ocean slopes and fresher blows the breeze,
And swifter still each bounding keel cuts through the combing seas,
Athwart our masts the shadows of the dipping sea-gulls float,
And all the water-world's alive when the fishing boats go out.
2.6k
LOUD trumpets blow among the naked pines,
Fine spun as sere-cloth rent from royal dead.
Seen ghostly thro' high-lifted vagrant drifts,
Shrill blaring, but no longer loud to moons
Like a brown maid of Egypt stands the Earth,
Her empty valley palms stretched to the Sun
For largesse of his gold. Her mountain tops
Still beacon winter with white flame of snow,
Fading along his track; her rivers shake
Wild manes, and paw their banks as though to flee
Their riven fetters.
Lawless is the time,
Full of loud kingless voices that way gone:
The Polar Caesar striding to the north,
Nor yet the sapphire-gated south unfolds
For Spring's sweet progress; the winds, unkinged,
Reach gusty hands of riot round the brows
Of lordly mountains waiting for a lord,
And pluck the ragged beards of lonely pines-
Watchers on heights for that sweet, hidden king,
Bud-crowned and dreaming yet on other shores-
And mock their patient waiting. But by night
The round Moon falters up a softer sky,
Drawn by silver cords of gentler stars
Than darted chill flames on the wintry earth.
Within his azure battlements the Sun
Regilds his face with joyance, for he sees,
From those high towers, Spring, earth's fairest lord,
Soft-cradled on the wings of rising swans,
With violet eyes slow budding into smiles,
And small, bright hands with blossom largesse full,
Crowned with an orchard coronal of white,
And with a sceptre of a ruddy reed
Burnt at its top to amethystine bloom.
Come, Lord, thy kingdom stretches barren hands!
Come, King, and chain thy rebels to thy throne
With tendrils of vine and jewelled links
Of ruddy buds pulsating into flower!
2.2k
In a rained-out world
painted in shadow
smeared by waters
and bus stop-
undeterred,
her red umbrella
burns crimson through
desolate darkness
like random library
selfies of beauty
buried in paper skin,
shielded by her
red umbrella
In an overcast world
stencilled in sorrow
her umbrella-
so red, so shiny-
reaches out to me,
taking all my woes
and weary waters away
when I hear her say-
"Hey, write me a poem
about a red umbrella"
In a sunny world
etched in joyance
dabbed in frappé-
my four-wheel red umbrella
drives us from
country to café,
where perfectly good
grand pianos meet
symphonic chaos,
amicably amplified as we mingle
under our red umbrella
~
NM
09/20/16
Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 10:34 PM UTC
annoyance, I was branded due to my flamboyance
joyance, connected to divine i am clairvoyance
I swim to the shore from the sheltered deep
I swim to the top to feel the sun’s heat
anything in hopes I do not repeat
the way I felt under you, the way you painted me so blue and alone
a throne in an empty castle
a never-ending mental battle
me versus your voice embedded in my head
I travel to the nearest chapel to rebuke you
I unravel in my travels to run away
the problems return day by day
no amount of drugs and buds will resolve
the problems just seem to evolve
with every folk and wind in the road
with every smoke and grind blown
I gotta face my own
reflection, deflecting blame
rejection, embargoed in shame
protection, from you and your games
Aug 17, 2021
Aug 17, 2021 at 2:18 PM UTC
A little baby dear Daffodil
Teasing me with her fiddle
Robbing my heart, in my mind
Dancing free, an angel find!
Beneath the way, I belittled shackles
Closing near her, fingers crackles
Alas! A bee, a wilful warrior
Driven me back, a startling barrier.
"Around a month, about an aeon
Waiting for this bud to be born
Away you go, alone that way
The flower is mine, let us play."
Wush! A wind flush my foe
Swirling like a cotton fro
"The flower is mine, away you bee
Longing for the fragrance flee."
While we three, averred free
Behind the tree, the daffodil plea
"Let the wind cuddle my fragrance
And you bee, taste my joyance."
And then the beauty gone with me
Back to home, we walked in glee
Heavenly souls, leaves their virtue
In their kindness, we hold life true.
Jun 26, 2022
Jun 26, 2022 at 3:05 AM UTC
The Music in the Wind
Written by Adam M. Snow
O you sweet ol sound that grasp the wind,
you hold so tight to sway again -
through the branches springtide leaves,
such a tune these wind they weaves.
O that sweet ol song I heard before;
those magic notes, amusing score.
Like a moth's once soon cocoon,
your sweet ol song shall bring a new.
The songs that birds in morning sing,
those chapel bells whom we praise to ring.
Among the wind, they play so free -
O sweet ol sound, play again for me.
Let me hear o rustling branches,
a sound of an octave cord -
that of which o nature brings me,
the songs of which the tune - delights me.
The joy your tune in which it brings,
upon the wind - upon pigeons wings.
Songs of which entwined with man,
like that of many passing cars,
or the coming train to name of some;
a flowing rhythm - their own drum.
O this day your finest song,
I can hear it all day long.
To hear thee, o city music,
a concerto to befit,
- entwined with the sound of nature
- entwined with the earth for sure.
Your tune so great it can be seen,
through the branches, leaves of green.
Such an awe we shall not waste,
the joyance of sweet nature's fate.
http://amsnow.weebly.com
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 2:49 AM UTC
In the slumber
he walked
tugged
at the heartstrings
with joyance
but
another day
Dreaming
Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 1:53 AM UTC
A Glorious Sunrise
A nightingale singing
See dancing flowers
Too
Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 12:31 PM UTC
My sister once told me that I get way to attached way to easily. That my feelings get the better of me and my emotions control me. That no matter how many walls I build to keep contained the brittle gentle flame of my youth. The sadder the reflection of my frame takes the bitterness of my soul away to play a game making me wonder if I even know me anymore? The bodies buried, mangled and contorted. Like the demons who fought and crought and stick and stay and say PLEASE OH PLEASE DON'T LEAVE OUR PRESENCE WE LOVE YOU TO MUCH TO MAKE AMENDS WITH THE PEOPLE WE'VE BURIED IN YOUR HEAD. The people who didn't deserve such distasteful discipline. The people who wanted to help you BUT WE PUSHED THEM AWAY because you only need us. And forever we'll make sure you stay. So don't ever again tell us how to do our job. Because as long as you live you're heart will always fog. And create misty air to confuse your mind. From truly seeing free from the desolate time. So take your brittle delicate self and move it somewhere else FOR I HAVE NO TIME TO DEAL WITH A DISOBEDIENT IMMORAL SELF INFLICTING CHILD. WHO'S EYES GROW SORE DUE TO HIS OWN MILD. EAGERNESS TO LOVE AND LOVE AGAIN. TO LOVE AND LOVE AGAIN. TO LOVE AND LOVE AND LOVE AGAIN AND AGAIN. Quit letting yourself be fooled. I won't always be here. To take the blame for you. I won't always be here to push away. And if not for me you wouldn't be sane. Sure I'm your demons living in dark voidless hollow caves. But I'm also your conscious that takes all the blame. And when I'm gone. Who will help you keep sane? Maybe the loved one, so never let true love fade away. Not today or tomorrow. Nevermore be afraid. I love you but I can't stay. My sister once told me that I get way to attached way to easily. That my feelings get the better off me and my emotions control me. So I told her, oh yeah? Tell me a different story. Because I already know how this one goes. How it plays out and holds how my self contemptuous thoughts reallocate configurative degeneration to demesmerize my surrounding location and fill a hole for joyance love to live. So maybe you're the bitter one and I'm too sweet.
Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 6:42 AM UTC