"lovelies" poems
My last few hours,
In the land of a week's refuge.
Bade goodbye to water towers,
Away with sunsets made of rouge.
Ready to fulfil a previous standing pact
To a life I left and put on hold.
I'll leave you in memories of retrospect.
An experience worth weight in gold.
As always I find myself in the driveway .
Standing all alone, in the dark.
Looking up at what does lay.
Spellbound as usual as the distant dogs bark.
I'm sending wishes into space,
Kisses to the dots in the sky.
Going to miss this place...
As the coming year would go by.
I'd long for you,
My twinkling lovelies in my nights.
Following hours would be through
You'd be replaced by city lights.
For now allow me to drink you to a stupor.
A feast I can't get enough of.
Let these minutes extend into forever...
Goodbye Darwin stars, you have all my love.
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 9:33 AM UTC
So, this is godhood. This is how it works.
It's dreaming up a world and killing it,
Abandoning the foibles and the quirks
Of crushed-together crumblings and bits,
Then sweeping out the wreckage with a curse
And carving out another fever dream.
It's wandering a mindscape universe
And sifting through the crop to find the cream
So you can save it while you burn the rest,
Just for the room to have another try.
The lovelies you've been cradling close to chest?
In time you'll cast them off to wilt and die
But for a while they're almost what you need.
Go raze the field and plant another seed.
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 1:32 PM UTC
Why can't I be as pretty as the little girl
that sits next to me at work, she seems
all long legs and golden skin,
20 long years younger
thin body poured into size 6 jeans
Why can't I be pretty like that?
I wish I was as pretty on the beach
next to the bikini clad lovelies
all long haired and impressive assets
Why can't I be like that?
I wish I was as pretty as my friend
sitting next to her on a barstool
crowded away from her, male backs
facing me, surrounding her, I'm a fool!
I wish I was pretty
or even attractive
or even winsome
or cute
or
or
or
I wish, I wish
Oh, how I wish
I could be an entree
even if I'm not
the main dish
or
or
The fish
caught on the hook
an acceptable catch
not to have the hook
ripped from my flesh
just to be thrown back
I wish I was pretty
I'm positive I was one day
Someone loved me once
and my children say
Mummy, you look so pretty
when I decide to make an effort
but no matter how hard I look
in the mirror
I just can't make their words fit!
I wish I was pretty
a beautiful disguise
I wish I was pretty
in my eyes
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 3:54 AM UTC
Lines of life through gene transmission
When handed down through *****
Tho’ rugged, sound or sickly matched,
Are caste about like coins.
Luck ensures a robust chance
Of longevity and health
With intelligence or dolt hood
As a final gauge to wealth.
Traits of blue eyed, fair haired lovelies
Brown eyed, freckled, long of limb,
Temperaments across the spectrum
Placid fat to fiery slim.
Aptitude to run the long race
Good endurance, depth of heart,
Lady luck decrees their worth
Tho' the Priesthood may depart.
Frontal lobes of clear retention
Heightened rationale of thought,
Reasons through the problematic,
Resolutions made as ought.
Capacity to empathise
In tears of joy and sorrow spent,
Capacity for true belief
When wrong is righted with repent.
Goodness and black evil
Are caste about like chaff,
Depends upon the show of cards
Who laughs the final laugh.
Conscience can be virtuous
But then, so can be greed,
Depends upon the circumstance
And if approached at speed.
And finally indulgence
Plays a massive hand in this,
For love and lust determine
If a union is remiss.
And should that union founder,
Should Lady Luck throw in her hand
...You can blame it on the chromosomes
Which confounds the Makers stand!
Marshalg
@theBach
Mangere Bridge
14 June 2011
Jun 13, 2011
Jun 13, 2011 at 8:42 PM UTC
the doom puke treacle of our dim sum sundays, asunderous.
the bluff of our taurus. the trim thumb, green on the terrace
of our epiphanies; wondrous.
the crease in the pleat of our borealis. the allusive chalice
of our majesty. the dead kingdoms we relinquish to the roiling unjoy.
the thunder of our feet to the heel of a shadow. our peter pan in the fire.
our kettles black.
the opposable lovelies. the lovelies that preen jewels. the extreme youth of our gods
now at the hour of our foolishness. our funny bone. and the fracture.
the actual damage to our heaven. and the near after.
the gross bloom of our anguish
and parade.
and the bells. and the comma. and the laughter.
Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 10:24 PM UTC
capsized beating purple algorithm
for a heart,
cross-nit aspirations
still taste dirt on my teeth,
the mission creep of eager eyed poets,
carry a briefcase with my levi's --
close cut cigarette encounters,
all brick shantytown of a friendship
them lovelies run on endless,
it's starting to get cold outside.
restless sprites circle our *****
exhaling greek mythopoeics
every sure footed step.
alcoholism echoes in my skin
a depth charge i cannot cut out,
we all have broken thoughts here,
all have blind spots in our stomachs,
they read like a preacher's insecurities:
burly things we warm ourselves with,
the winters sting bitter.
something is wrong with me,
sinkhole of ambition and honey kisses,
all the great thinkers **** themselves,
it's the staunch lack of spotlight,
way the earth drips lackadaisical-like
we just call it a perfect orbit.
shake my hand and feel a goldilocks pulse
anemic shards of a cornered animal,
we cut right
to the bone
here, or so we tell ourselves.
and love is always the answer?
that sure footed toothy angel
so beautiful, it couldn't just be our
churlish blood,
frothing and calming,
frothing and calming,
electrons rise and fall to create light,
they still circle an untapped atrocity
perfectly,
like this, like it must be
god
or something close. something
stopping them from running, free
from bonds ionic or otherwise,
bare feet
beating the pavement until there are
no more stones to throw.
firstborns of the universe,
each star is a setting sun,
blinks staggered,
still grew us up quicker than most,
there is no aphrodisiac like heliocentrism.
them bones cut good
doped up on oxytocin,
those empty thoughts still rattling,
dig sharp -- then nice and numb.
and we cutthroat and glossy,
sharper than ever.
walk outside
smoke a cigarette
know how much you love her,
look at the stars --
it's ******* beautiful isn't it
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 7:57 PM UTC
I'm here today to talk about love and all its wonders
so take a seat kiddies
Let's see...where to begin
Well theres that just got your drivers license, so your parents bought you a whip,
And even though it's a piece of **** you get the "I Love this car!" Love
And there's definitely a few of those 3 for 1 at echo Love
Men be men admit it...ya thats right, bromance guy Love
Or that "so happy I could cry" Love
That's the right Love the girls in white Love
Followed by that trip to hawii and the summer sun Love
And we all Love to have fun Love
Or how kids Love to run Love
There's the "I gotta go back to school but we'll always have the lake" Love
And everyone Loves to like on facebook Love
And there's Live, Love, Laugh Love
Or how about that first hot day in spring Love
Girls you know you Love that Love
And us guys Love that you Love that Love
Cause we got that Love for the Lovelies that you wear Love
And we Love that you let down your hair Love
Theres friend Love and Lovers Love
And new Lovers Love
You know... that Love that you Love the same Love they Love, Love
But my favorite Love of all
Is the Love I have for ya'll
That's the Love that I Love to Love
Aug 31, 2010
Aug 31, 2010 at 9:26 AM UTC
exquisitely beautiful "you have lovely eyes"
beautiful, pretty, attractive, good-looking,
appealing, handsome, adorable, exquisite,
sweet, personable, charming; enchanting,
engaging, winsome, seductive, **** gorgeous,
alluring, ravishing, glamorous; tasty, knockout,
stunning, drop-dead gorgeous; killer, cute,
foxy, hot; beauteous; comely, fair
"a lovely young woman" scenic, picturesque,
pleasing, easy on the eye; magnificent, stunning,
splendid "a lovely view"
very pleasant or enjoyable; delightful.
"we've had a lovely day"
delightful, very pleasant,
very nice, very agreeable, marvelous,
wonderful, sublime, superb, magical;
terrific, fabulous, heavenly, divine, amazing, glorious
"we had a lovely day"
noun: lovely; plural noun: lovelies
1. a glamorous woman or girl:
"a bevy of rock lovelies"
Old English luflic, see love, -ly [1 above]
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 12:13 PM UTC
When was the last time you felt loved?
When was the last time you let down of your walls and be vulnerable?
When was the last time you said "I love you" sincerely?
Dates? Months? Years?
Nah! it was all because of that stupid person whom you gave your all and received none in return that made you skeptical after all.
The butterflies that used to be in your stomach already left,
gone with the person you thought were your meant.
But hey, lovelies!
Blame not the love but the lover.
It's time to give yourself some love.
A love coming from you,
not from others.
Self-love!
By the time you are ready to love again,
By the time you find the person to be vulnerable with again,
By the time you speak love sincerely again,
It's no longer for someone else's sake
Because you know you are worthy of the love you deserve.
Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 2:58 AM UTC
Naked memories of twisting bodies.
Pressing me softly.
Touching of tongues,
and lips made of lovelies.
Rose petal skin
conditioned & deep.
You're gracing me gently.
These feelings I'll keep.
I'm safe in your love.
Don't let this undo.
Sweet whispers of truth;
I will kiss and tell you:
*"Hold tight for now.
Lets both forget how
Our spirits are free,
& this is temporary."*
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 2:43 PM UTC
she said she loves me but
she’s a dream and
i was asleep.
i mistook the disease for
little lovelies for
warm and fuzzies for
cornfields with bumblebees.
i’m brought to my knees
from the silliest of things,
it’s easy to see something crazy
without empathy.
Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 7:13 PM UTC
that leather skin beehive humming in the Hamptons
is just like the ziggarat ghettos of Compton
a fob on a boil on the face of your hidden face
and a stab at your entrails from the inside; commonplace -
Romans demure to your architect
you'll have your symmetries before breakfast...
let no one forget.
gorgeous ****** suns, gallant in emptiness
a horde of unfettered lovelies, spawning petulant ***** to other *****
a lull of ponderous, a bead of serene, swimming in hot pink mist
and peppercorn wavy gravy.
i slay these dragons to form new words
that Oodle your frenzy
and keep you
for mine .
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 6:35 PM UTC
I still feel her hand
Removing the ring
Of which I made a bullet
And put it on a string
Rip away if needed
My mere being
On the string
Snapped
And trapped
In the ceiling
Releasing
Everything
But that feeling
Like nothing
Erupting
From my somethings
Slumping through
Creating the me
We never knew
Until all the way through
To the other side
Where I reside
In uncompromising lies
Disguised
As not caring
But my blaring heart
Shines through
Under clouded stars
But to start loving
Just seems too far
To go back
Too much weight
On impact
And I'll collapse
And lapse
My days away
In a lackadaisical haze
Of happiness
Where I'm eventually
Betrayed
And made
To feel
Less
But always
The opportunist
Tuning this
Ruined mess
Into the most
Beautifulest
Beast
I can leash
Until this test
Of heart and mind
Is complete
And the noise
Ceases
In the peace
Of her single image
Serenading me
In eternal sleep
Whispering lovelies
To my being free
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 2:39 AM UTC
1431
poems in ye old inbox,
genteel knocking,
whispering thru stolid front door
love me a little lot,
little lot, love me?
this is not mere work product,
collegial-laid upon me for gentle shared, for pre-review,
Nottingham Forest arrowed, bow shaped
pithy comments,
these are the holy-of-the-holies
attention-me-crystal-cries,
prayers, wry observations, nature collations,
me and thee adorations, heart rendering
screams of need,
these are the moments in your life
raw-roughened gifted or threaded smooth cursed,
but tendered unto my caring.
(an aside:
perhaps you understand better now
why woman-in-the-moon imagery,
red bowed, grapefruit tasting hearts,
all the lovelies, word shape shifts a/k/a
Imagery
language delights!
but time-using, confusingly confuses,
and has been erased from my own poetry frame)
gnawing doubt me routs,
god gave me humans,
and gave them speech,
to bring me
closer to him
thru them.
somewhere in those 1431 essays of labor,
dashed off, handcrafted, pithy or poor,
just might be the one
justification for my opening my eyes
this poetry someday Sunday sun-day.
put the cofe on
(saving letters, saving time,
deleting unnecessary e's
from my life till when I am dying on
all-on-that desperate
e-n-ee-dy day).
loaded my shotgun heart with
loves and likes,
yellow thunderbolt bullets firing,
and considered yourself
notified
I'm a-coming over,
shoes on the cofe table,
breaking taboo's
gonna read 1431
and when dining done,
gonna pay attention to my muse,
my woman, cause she is the
original e,
that provides the raw materials,
in ye old nat-box,
that lets me love ever one of them,
she is the e
in me
and me will be in you,
starting now.
Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 6:57 AM UTC
*from the depths of my being
i shout that i shall indeed be king
and forever banish banality
in a move that has finality
the things in my unending quest
are a constant reminder of the test
they tell me my fires to quench
until there's none of that stench
from perched vantage points
that even holy saints would envy
i see this walking and talking bevy
of lovelies selling sweet taunts
and i know it's time to quench a thirst
its time not to demure and come first
that itch that has troubled me long
now makes me feel that i belong
to the bemused new brigade of seekers
the ones who are thinkers but not speakers
they that from afar smell the deep oasis
whenever there's a deepening crisis
so dear life incarnate, dear essence of breath
stand me now and forever in good stead
give me the strained juice that cools my tongue
and thus help me in perpetuity to quench a thirst*
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 11:02 AM UTC
I.
Nothing lasts long enough
To out live its time line
So I weave mine into
A concert celebrating the sound
That our bodies beat to
This organic clockwork armada
Of single cell ships singing lions roars
Before time aligns my spine with the dirt
And though I know gray hair will claim crowns
Overthrowing the royalty of youth
These ball headed blessings
Are nothing more then a water park river slide
We must all ride toward oblivion
So my fatal flawed form
Speaks a beautiful broken clock symphony
For these poems to fill up
Facing the future as if it was an old friend
To bed down with
Laughing at how long it’s been
Since we claimed tomorrow
As a carpe diem doctrine
To rock in
And I hope that when the waterfall of my life
Meets rock-bottom-spray-mist-rainbow-prism-old-age-epiphany
My grandchildren will cling to me
Like vines to a towering oak tree
So I can whisper to them through a white Walt Whitman mane
"I may be a washed up old lion
But you
You are the roar of a crescendo
To an aria arranged before the birth of music
As if each note was placed purposely to hang in harmony
With the budding of your bones
They sing in the same key as the fickler flashbulbs
Of the stars you were forged in
Who sweet talk to you in your sleep nightly"
Saying
Listen my lovelies
To the lullaby of the universe
As it sings itself toward salvation
Which when translated into night
Says come gather your dreams
In the concert of my body
Babies
You were born
As a single rift
In the solo
Of some Charlie parker bird flight ascension
So let this bedtime word weaving remind you of the halo about your head
For you
Were born as angels
Back when the big bang band first leaned how to blow
So if you stagnate
Like we all do
Fearing that you are all alone in the prison cell of your skin
Remember the old lions still roaring in your gut
Listen close
For there has never been a moment of silence
And there will never been a moment of silence
Cause there is music buried beneath your bones my children
Come sing in the choir of your forefathers the winds
Your solo is about to begin
Dec 24, 2013
Dec 24, 2013 at 8:32 PM UTC
These puppets of
mine
They move as I
pull
It's hard to
believe
They once had a
soul
String won't do, So
rope is a must
That way when I
pull
Their bodies
violently
******
I pull at these
puppets
I am their
God
But I take away
free will
Because it's not their right, nor
my law
Dance
my lovelies
Bend to
my will
As I pull at
your harness's
As you wish
I'd have killed
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 12:08 AM UTC
When I was a much younger man, I hiked the moorland,
my mother was Welsh, and the dry rolling hills spoke to my soul.
I'd trudge on through the forgotten paths, and daydream of my darling.
The wind it whipped like ethereal hands, tugging at my clothes
like a crazed lover.
But I was alone, out there on the moorlands.
Not a human in sight, such things make us feel most human.
I'd slip the flask from my hip pocket, and down a dram of scotch from the little metal cup,
and make love to the solitude. So much emptiness, so much loveliness.
The nights were especially cold, and harsh, I would spread my blanket
across the crunchy permafrost, and curl up into a ball.
Half awake, my feet tucked into my pack, I would hear music.
No instruments, just a vocal melody.
The words were unclear, but the feeling, it could only be love.
Years have passed, it seems like ages, since I walked the fields of my youth.
Now I have a family, and I find that I can still hear the music.
It is stronger, and it is clearer. In the rays of the morning sun,
with my family sleeping peacefully, I finally understand the song.
"Live, and Love my lovelies, ignore the cold. Sleep and dream,
in the morning you will wake up, the sun will be shining, and you will be loved."
This morning, dawn breaks so sweetly, and I quickly forget the insults of days past,
the hassles at the airport, and the trials of the day.
For the first time in however many years, as my loved ones gently snore
in their beds, spread out across two continents, I open my eyes, and I can still hear the music.
This melody is mine, no, it is ours, and you can hear it if you listen,
for it is the melody of love, and we all share it, whether we serve love or not,
We are loved.
A Burns 2012
Jun 6, 2012
Jun 6, 2012 at 3:14 AM UTC
Breath in this air
Crisp in my lungs
Sweet on my tongue
Cool on my lips
Smelling of rose water and lilac so strong
Kissing my cheeks
Blowing my hair
Carrying my dreams on its everlasting current
Whispering sweet lovelies
To those who accept it
Oct 23, 2010
Oct 23, 2010 at 9:27 AM UTC
Crouched between the table & the wall
with his eyes in his hands
& his mouth in the shape of a small
barren island in the Atlantic Ocean
he waits for the blow to fall
Opposite him in the angle formed
by a filing cabinet & a drinks dispenser
a tiny furry creature does the rat-fink-a-boo-boo
its eyes blinking furiously
its ears revolving like an out-of-control radar station
Somewhere a radio plays
& a voice gabbles something about moonshine
& binge drinking & little green men out of Upminister
who are SERIOUSLY NO SERIOUSLY GONNA F--- YOU UP MAN
Later there will be music & lights & long legged
lovelies will strut their funky stuff across the walls
while a siren sounds in the street below
& the woodentops come calling
cudgels primed for some ******** ultraviolence
Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 12:10 PM UTC
~
•she sounds her clarion call... •
•to birds of every feather•
•be they large or small•
•heavenly… everyone•
•for they are angels all!•
•‘calling all angels,’•
•with quill in-scribe•
•with prose enthrall•
••winged lovelies••
•leave your fight•
•find respite from•
•••migration's•••
•••• flight••••
•each to take•
•your sacred•
•••place•••
••within••
••these••
hallowed
•halls.•
•••
••
•
~
*post script.
"birdland" by SoulSurvivor
the inspiration for this one.
she who loves unconditionally
is also one who others coalesce round.
and whether she chose it or no,
she is nonetheless a leader among us,
a bird to which we flock.
you who know her well will agree,
as one who shares so unabashedly
and who in such intimate detail
shares her daily struggle
and her daily triumphs,
and who encourages soooo freely,
she is herself a joy to read;
and is one i can say without reservation,
she defines "friend"!!
much love to you, SoulSurvivor!*
if you've not "met" her,
or ever read her poems,
begin with this one:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1546434/birdland/
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 3:55 PM UTC
Have you ever felt a tear fall lovely
It’s gorgeous
More than dying to a everlasting piano chord or holding pinkies
Your flowers bloomed in my mood
I’m your florist
My throat grows sore
As I remember lovely perturbations
And lovely sensations
And times where you were loving and held tight to your patience
And I wonder when you go when I can’t feel your presence
It’s a present breathing in all the ******** from your old lessons
Legions **** on what was legit
I never wanted such a lovely heart break or a heavy soul
It’s never been a time when your eyes met mine and I looked past your demise
But for some reason I appreciated your lovely lies
Lovely sight
Lovely sighs
Ugly fights
Thick thighs
Tight grips
Cold fingertips
They say the coldest hands have the warmest hearts
I wonder if you thought I was lovely from the start
Am I pretty enough?
Quiet enough?
Do I lie too much?
Do I cry too much?
Why do we fight so much?
Why do I miss your your touch so lovely?
Where are the words you speak with your lovely kiss?
I guess I might walk steadily enough to be a model but my features aren’t of Linda Evangelista
I’m eye candy for the diabetic
I’m a lovely view
But you’re used to savory things
One time my voice didn’t quake
And my loving moans wondered off in the walk of shame
My silence was deadly and you couldn’t handle my tongue in the most innocent of ways
You said you adored it
Treasured it
Never heard something so true
Same way I’ve never seen someone as lovely as you
I guess our lovelies didn’t quite match
For once I spoke my last words
My honest broke our latch
My truths hurt and my lies were sometimes too blunt
Bold and beautiful yet enough to make you
Jump
Ship
Forget
Split
Walk away from me and live
Touch me lovely
Scream me lovely
Miss me lovely
Hold me lovely
Lovingly cry about me
My comebacks are mighty and your stamina was slightly too small
Too lightly
I was lightweight in weight
and you in mind
It’s funny
You’re the kind of lovely only the wicked could find
I miss you lovely
The way you touched me as I held the metaphorical heat gun to the edge of my thoughts and
Pulled the trigger
When you couldn’t pull me together I miss your feathers
I miss our weather
Sunny enough for glares
Cold enough to exchange sweaters
I miss your lovelies because you was my true love
Touch me lovely
Scream me lovely
Miss me lovely
Hold me lovely
Lovingly cry about me
Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 9:06 PM UTC
chieftain tribal lit--
ripple break, ripple
broke off a steady
circle.
ways of water--and
bouquets of lighting.
my lovelies come quick--
to finish my sentences.
i smear new eyes on their
silver chords, and shout down
what they need to hear.
as morning comes like a tattered
up animal, hiding in plain
sight of the hunt.
angel-scape survived by freedom.
how my town gets down.
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 1:18 PM UTC
lanky lovelies
strut their stuff
on the runway
the latest fashions
wrapped around
those hungry bones
stalking the lime light
vividly visible
to any and all
who's fleeting favor
is enough
for starving
souls to feast
Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 5:14 PM UTC
not amused, you are the same blue lemon... slipping traps
that ask lastly, why you ask kindly? ; " where have all the lovelies lapsed ? "
ask a hatred how to love and suffer truth too bold... and step back
love nothing, but sear into the glacier of your last hope.
And Love That.
Oct 14, 2011
Oct 14, 2011 at 10:13 PM UTC