"luminance" poems
Nothing can break the souls bond
between twin flames and no matter
how long you are apart or what
happens you are always connected
and sometimes two souls are even
created together and in love before
they're born.
Once a deep and powerful connection
between two people has been made
they become a vital part of each
others lives and there is no
separating them and no measure
of distance or duration of silence
can prevent the outbreak of smiles
and laughter or the strong desire
to leap into each other's arms when
they come together once more.
My soulmate lives her life like a
flame; A dance of purposeful chaos,
Her enchanting light can guide you
and quell your fears....She's hot;
warming those who respect her
and burning those who don't..She
is a flame with an unforgettable
glow...A weak man will try to dim
her luminance ... but her Soulmate
will have pleasure in fanning the
blaze as I try to do but "soulmate"
is an overused term, and a true
soul connection is very rare, but
very real and a soulmate will always
be someone who will make you the
most "you" that you can possibly
be as she does for me.
She is a mystery to me, yet so
familiar like a song I've never heard
before and a tune I've known my
entire life, knowing that we are
spiritual beings in human form
with a desire to simply connect
with a soul who feels like home.
The moment our souls connected,
our hearts became one and now every
day that I communicate with her I
can feel our love continue to grow
stronger...stronger with loyalty,
respect and encouragement and
I am so happy to share my life with
her spirit and as we grow old
together,as we continue to change
with age, there is one thing that
will never change...I will always
keep falling in love with her. Jon York 2018
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 6:14 AM UTC
I wished for you
excessively.
greedily.
immeasurably.
I craved you for days on end
and finally,
finally.
I got to see the way
your lips form around the precipice
of my name;
I felt your hand on my waist
as your touch provokes every minute nerve
in my body;
I drowned myself in the
depth of your eyes
that glisten with wonder as you
decipher
the spell you've cast upon me
and how it speaks volumes of every
fairytale ever made;
and I have had a taste of all of this
I've had you
right within my breadth,
just until the warmth
of the rising sun
kissed my eyelids awake,
like the tender whisper of the
cosmos
or the discordant bellowing
of the void
as it reminds me:
You are unattainable.
Right then again I was able to
comprehend
that you will remain an illusion to me
until our paths cross once more
and in that moment,
nothing will be capable of surpassing
the bewitchment
the resplendence
the luminance
of the mere reality that is you
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 7:24 AM UTC
A slow walk up Centennial
and I still can’t find the place
it's menacing cold, and muted
and the street sweeper and winter breeze
move the Turkish blend and dust pack
A novice mixed duet plays
Brahms on broken strings
the erhu and overcoat
veiling a blue heeler and sphinx
Maggianos is settled in the center block’s
luminance and seasonal drape
it's festive warmth bringing home Bedford Falls;
the flavour and character and social circles
Annie’s playing and the keeper's singing
(his word pool and slander
raising everyone in arms!)
the crowd chants and mayhem breaks
as crawlers and contemporaries
smash their steins
Dark alleys and dripping holes
hold a grim reminder of the pierced underside
paddies flutter and forge their words
with a broad manifesto
Night gardens come alive
(slowly sapping the respite)
hunched figures and ladies in lace
shuffle inside the big orange door
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 11:25 PM UTC
I just stood transfixed, letting her eyes light
the smothered wick in me that needed the oil of love
with anxious stutter I asked, "Is your name Grace?"
"It really is, you are right there, but pardon me
I am Grace Fallen" I took it as a joke and smiled,
"Dear fallen flower, your grace resurrects my crucified spirit"
I have seen them all, blooms, perfect, fragrant,
the ones that catapult one to momentary bliss
with a wink, a word that touches somewhere tender
or share love, fresh like butter, that seems gushing from the depth
that not even expect any kind of reciprocation,
blowing like fragrant breeze, caressing drooping trees.
Women with such luminance ,bless their ilk
whom one only could think as incarnates
came down to lift this miserable world
up from the quagmire, the ***** pit it has fallen
because of the absence of feminine grace in abundance
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 7:32 AM UTC
I don't know much about Jellyfish, but I do know of a girls biggest wish is to become one of those fish and
oh, she would fit.
The female Jelly of a rare species, one of the most beautiful, divine finds.
A very rare kind, that would ever so shine, there's only one of it's kind,
it leaves me so blind.
The gentle Jelly so breathtaking that it takes away all of my oxygen,
The Jelly's, heart breaking.
She's so damaged, she's dead on the inside with many different strings
loosely draping among with her, it's a representation of all of her past,
so terrible, I wonder if I could fix that?
I don't know if there's a Jellyfish that continuously changes colors in a glowing manner,
but she would.
This is why this Jellyfish would be the rarest.
This Jellyfish would glow colors of Yellow,Purple,Gray,Black,Blue, and Red.
The yellow would be her happiness, though it may be the rarest of her colors.
Purple, would be her scars.
Black, is her hidden irrationality that I wont ever let her drown in, in her wonderful blue lit sea.
Gray, would portray something like the clouds on a rainy day, something that keeps her happiness hidden.
Blue, a very sad colored blue that would be the color of her tears that I try to wipe and keep away, this blue is more distinct than
the color of the waters she lives in because it represents only her pain and only comes out of her.
Red, would represent her recent scarring's, a recent ****** wound that has just been cut or even a wound that will not disappear.
The Jellyfish being through all that she has been through still continues to float among the sea,
a weak, but also a strong Jellyfish as my bubbles keep her afloat, I wont ever let the waves engulf her.
The persistent sea critter drifts delicately reminiscing, but not forgetting.
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 3:37 AM UTC
conquer me
with your words,
for I am a poet
of soul
my mind as open
as my spread thighs
my lotus aching
to welcome
your sword of gold
Unsheathe.
Come close.
until there is no light
between us
for inside grows
a luminance,
ever-burning
as sharp as ghost pepper
as soothing as
spilt milk
on petalsilk skin
as nourishing as
the stillness
of secret ponds
let us spin our tongues
into lava flowers
as we call forth courage
from the sunken
mists
of
time
Dec 1, 2018
Dec 1, 2018 at 6:28 PM UTC
This lighthearted word that makes you want to look up
to see the allure and intrigue that the sky holds
Every collection of soft, fluffy whiteness opens the door
to another portal for the imagination
They shift expand and disperse like most things in life
with a much faster pace
I watch as they gently meld into one another
Then fade into blue
the grandest magic show I have ever seen
And off on the horizon
this sumptuous mound
seems to grow from the core
of the planet
Reaching higher with more light and luminance than all the rest combined I watch as it coats the sky for as far as the eye can see
Wrapped in the glorious hues of the setting sun
in the midst of heaven
I see you
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 12:09 PM UTC
A sudden evening rain over the rice fields,
memories wake up from deep sleep
of long years, take a walk once again
along the narrow ridge parting green fields
on a rain soaked evening of yore.
She, a jaunty young woman had changed
the quiet world of a village boy
with big curious eyes, just in few minutes.
his innocence, vanished a yearning
for something unknown until then,
started its torment
love, dabbed its fragrance
on his being with its slight of hand,
a spell cast over him made his head spin
like he drank heady wine, how strange!
Under her spread umbrella he came
by chance, only once in his life
walked with her till the door
on his way to the temple of Krishna
for the evening worship,
walking along the zig zag, slippery path
had he slipped a bath in slush was assured.
When the rains came unannounced,
rushing ,with her anklets clanging
frogs spiritedly croaking,
all this mingling with
the orchestra of myriad insects,
she came as if from nowhere,
from a wild growth of banana plants
on one side, down to his path.
She smiled at him as if she knew him well
a lush young woman, who took him by his hand,
brought him closer to the protective
wrap of her sari, that smelled lemons and oranges,
that fragrance remains sweet in memory,
was it jasmine scent from her long black tresses,
that made him feel that the world has suddenly
become, a place, full of luminance,
has he quickly grown up to her age?
She didn't ask him questions,
called his pet name surprising him
about that knowledge of her;
that made him think that
she was someone so close once,
but forgot as he grew up.
Reaching in front of the temple,
she gave just a wistful look,
and vanished from his life for ever.
Not even aware that she just gave,
the best fragrant moments
for a boy on the first step to adulthood,
he stood looking her go on her way.
When he look back and remember,
this delusion, he realizes, stays with him:
"I am under your umbrella ever since"
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 1:33 PM UTC
Poets go blind from writing by moonlight,
But my artist smites the moon with her luminance,
I write by her subtle, cyan, rays
And would gladly go blind for, with her, my eyes find their fill quickly,
She is the unexpected wind bouncing off the water’s surface,
And my chest is the sail,
Lifted, pushed, expanded and fulfilled to its most righteous purpose,
If the world is a stage than she is the red velvet curtain,
Commanding a sway so slight and savory
That other rags rent and burn,
No matter how mesmerizing the performance is,
A sudden hush or vibrant ovation is demanded in her wake,
A sultry swirl of goddess and girl,
Too precious to be stored with other jewels,
Elegance with every hinting glance, every rowdy inhale,
And every placement of those sinister legs,
That rams would think twice to scale,
The bend in her back is the stroke of my oils,
The pout of her lips is scarlet meat to the lions,
And the feel of her hips sum up my surreptitious desires,
Like good jazz things seem to pull back
Before the cathartic crescendos,
But to put it bluntly dear, the next time you’re here,
It may pay to freshen up with a Mentos.
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 2:45 AM UTC
lunar luminance lights his lucent lordly lair.
leaden legs languish lazily as he lay, laconic--
lexical loquaciousness long lost.
his latent lupine lust lignifies and lengthens,
longing lonesomely for his lovely limber lioness.
with lips of luxurious labial liquer,
and licks lapping like lashing lingual lightning,
liquifying his lavish lover, luscious lyrical lubrication.
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
Waschrell with due care
only picked sweet Cicely,
he stood and stooped
with vintage candle luminance
matching each windowsill anew,
she could never flutter brazen like
the Painted Ladies,
a botany student
should have known better.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 9:57 AM UTC
there is an exquisite blue bird
from another realm
deep in the trees
he is elusive
and beautiful beyond compare
he shimmers in the light
black
a deep blue
hints of the finest most delicate feathers of
peach and yellow
he sings a song for his mate
an unearthly humming
a soothing introduction
and she is his.
he is gentle but his body moves
with skill
vibrating a show of luminance
texture, and color
he is brilliant
how does a drab female
win the attentions of one such
as this?
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 10:25 PM UTC
I am in limbo
between universes
between stars
I am ensconced
in my own light
in tangible luminance
stored deep inside
tiny
glass jars
I am whirling into new orbit
as I take on this luster,
this shine
I furl forth choices
in magic spells weaving
and take back
what was always
so rightfully mine
I now hold the staff
that will part the seas
of my new way
in this labor
because, honey, there
ain't no time
to waste
no horse
no glowing, knighted savior
Until this hour
I was crawling
but I now I start to rise
as I have my final say
and the northern lights
spew out from behind my eyes
I am through with
this land of ice, land of jagged spires
It is time to bust up
all those submissive plans
and spray the whole
place with arctic fire
yeah time to mark it
juice it up
till it licks up pain, till it burns
release pent up years
of unneeded conflict,
of tensed up
twists and turns
so just you try
to break me apart
as I try to navigate
between tectonic plates
on two lands
The only knight here
is my own true self
the situation neatly
in my
hot little hands
May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 6:03 PM UTC
*Dressed as witches, ghost and vampires,
And the night almost near,
Brings creepy sounds, of howling wolves,
A fun celebration, at this time of year.
When an old and evil miserable witch,
Fly high in the skies, on her wooden broom,
Across high rises and over the sea,
Below gleaming stars, and behind the luminance moon.
Fearlessly and wicked, in a squeaky soft tone,
Pointing her long ebony finger nails,
Casting a spell, to everything known,
Not leaving a sign or a trail.
And spooky ghost, gently drift through,
Into the misty mild breeze, in the midst of darkness,
Leaving soft whispers,
And nonsense.
And vampires, pace in ****** shot eyes,
In hollow fangs, bathed in scarlet hues,
Searching for his next savory victim,
Leaving a vicious trace and painful bruise.
When far away, howling sounds are repeatedly heard,
Loudly and fiercely, upon this gloomy upcoming Halloween,
A chilling and frightening tale, beneath the dusty twilight,
Unlike anything else, ever seen.*
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 7:04 PM UTC
I drape myself in their minds,
I sit silently and promise nothing
is wrong with me.
There is light in all my dear friends,
I'm drawn in by the flame.
The weekends are filled with
glasses of *** and "behave yourselves"
and it all feels pure, frightening,
desperate, lovely.
The weekdays filled with late night discussions
centered around depression,
and groundbreaking musicians.
We wake with headaches,
we go to work with red eyes and wrinkled shirts,
but we find God only in the luminance of night.
Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 10:59 AM UTC
on the shrubs of night,
glowworms in millions,
flash their luminance.
at dawn where do they vanish?
Jan 5, 2012
Jan 5, 2012 at 9:26 PM UTC
I accost daylight, reviling in the promiscuity of the waken world
Come, be absent with me, enjoy the splendor of the famine
The only pleasure we’ll allow ourselves is that of a despondent heart
As we weaken the bonds that chain us, we’ll destroy ourselves
How can I rationalize my desires, their innocence shames me
To be reprehensible, oh such a glorious way to be
We ran through the streets encased in neon luminance
You, with your hope and rebellion
Me, in awe of you
This truancy, this desolate homage to backroads and swindled affairs
It leaves a longing to wear her fur coat, my makeup soiled beautifully
Those nights of dreams, and dreams, and dreams, resurrect disenchanted
As I lay aching, biting the the cold steel for the knowledge of ones price
The nullity welcomes a confusion, searching for a fragment of familiarity
Wanting and wishing back the stale taste of the endless mornings
I’ll bring with me the calm, the reassurance of futile worth
The length is calculated, the smirking clock relishing in his dismal pace
We trade the dampened moss as the stars scoff at our ignorance
They whisper, piercing the darkness with their reminder
three moons, alas three moons
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 5:46 PM UTC
The lines on her flesh
The slightly closing eyes
The breath
Just barely
Everyday I'd wait for you at the top of the stairs
Hiding in the shadows as the morning glare peeked through
Shining on the boxes that I had stacked up in the night
While I gnawed on my hunger
You'd come up for several minutes
Whisper to me in our stolen time
Let me smell you all over in brief embraces
And then leave
Moments in the breaks of my lightwatch
Nights and the descent of the wolves on the hunt
The scent of dusk and the ever blinking stars
And the creaking of bicycles treading through the woods
I'd look you all over in the darkness of the moon
Taste the weariness through the souls in our eyes
Mildew and the chirps of homecoming birds
Warming our bodies in unison
The whips of sunshine would come again
We'd scramble away from each other
Dislodging our joints and other such things
Tightening the knots
Every fragment I'd wait for your silhouette
Luminance granting me brief glimpses
Drawn through the curtains of prying eyes
And the numerous opuses creasing our hearts
The dots of Orion in the amber snow
Greeting our hands and chalking the rain
Pyres of pain make the distances scarce
And burrowing in my chest we'd sit
Burning in the ashes of twilight.
Sep 24, 2011
Sep 24, 2011 at 3:51 AM UTC
The moon tonight
Was like all the others
That had walked beside my thoughts,
A silent witness, to my slow progress
The faithful Argos of the heel
Whose eyes were as keen and waning
As dying dreams.
It reminded me of an unknown many
Whose once distinct luminance
Was now lost beneath lights.
But still displaying a numinous power;
A silent murmur of ageless charm
The moon one night
Which drew galleys through ancient harbours
And whose tips of light bestrew the sea
And lit the narrow alleys of a dust choked city
Where soldiers tumbling from the arms of a *****
Would lie beneath it and remember their mothers
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 9:38 AM UTC
You Know.
You love to feel. Really feel.
Not all that pony phony excrement.
NO
I want to feel. I want to flow.
And now I can.
No longer does my mind win/
Now I am free to lose my body to my surroundings.
To listen to the rhythm of my cells, the rhythm of my blood.
My heart beats
and I listen.
Harmonize the sentiments.
Float on the the synchronicity.
Extricate the energy
vibrating pulsating reverberating Charge.
Tinge with respite. Ignite the tinder
of my uninhibited beauty. EXPLODE in oneirostatic luminance
Leave your brain, but find your body.
And with them find your self, finding them. E
vaporate, into infinite Tactation.
Consummate the Sensations of your wordless soul.
What we cannot express with our words we express with our skin.
See me. Feel me. Touch me. Feel me.
Lick the tentacles in my pores.
**** the mandibles from my constant bite wounds.
The seed of intertwining life sought through the seed of the lymnescate.
Transference
Note to my plural self: Listen to my thoughts more often,
especially when they don't come from my head.
Rhythms carry time. Flow rhythms water the timewave. Grow rivers find the groove. DANCE the current and find the soothing bedrock rootscape.
Find it with your ultimate states of dissolution.
Find it and it will carry you.
Find it and explode.
EXTRICATE EUPHORIA
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 2:56 PM UTC
In a dream I never sought
unprecedented horrors and thoughts
a scissors with a hint of blood
heavy and surreal sound
the demon within speaks
I exfoliate to my core
The mask of sanity is no more intact
Disturbed and desolate in an unknown labyrinth
Of love, of law and of thoughts
Death is abutting your life
an escape to an aberrant sanctuary
scrupulous circles of luminance lead you further
The past is farce and forgotten
The senile you and your transgressions end
Your dalliance with humanity culminates
Loathe and love exist no more
Reverie is not what I need
restore the thought indeed
Aug 2, 2012
Aug 2, 2012 at 4:54 AM UTC
Winter's days have become one,
Mashed together to form one dreadful night,
As my eyes become bloodshot, another gulp of pungent whiskey.
On this night when the moon's luminance reveals itself through a sheet of blank clouds,
And I'm left confined in the purgatory of a lonely bedroom, Whose once blue walls have all but burnt to black,
As they seem to broaden to maximize my desolation.
I question my existence.
I question my sanity.
I question when I will see the sun again.
For the moon may be the only soul who is as lonely as I.
But the moon seeks solace in himself,
And does not comfort me as the way you once did,
On these drunken nights where the enemy was the bottom of a fifth of Jack Daniel’s.
What took away my everything,
Was the only thing that could aid me in my resurrection.
So now I lay here,
Alone.
Questioning everything,
Scrambling to fix all that's been broken,
Building these deplorable ramshackle buildings on top of broken rubble,
With shards of glass and stinging tears as they mix with the blood on my hands,
But that doesn't matter, does it?
It will crumble, no matter how many times I try over and over again to rebuild.
This idiotic tower of sanity.
Why not just lay in this defeat?
And accept the harrowing fate that failure is upon me.
Let myself reek with self pity.
And drench myself with vomits of slurred words like,
"I miss you, I love you."
In my melancholy rage,
I'll take what is left of my body out into the cold,
In attempt to feel something real again as I dance with frozen tears in the numbing blanket of snow,
Convincing myself you will soon join me as I glare up at a flavorless, charcoal sky,
Cursing the bland stars who don't comfort the moon like they once did,
As I throw up the final chunks of the parts of my body that were still alive.
I watch in horror in front of me as they crawl out,
Like spiders as they trickle into the night with eyes wide.
For now I'm stuck here,
Glancing around for help that will never come,
Trying desperately to gather pieces of a broken puzzle with weak hands and shaking fingers.
So now, I lay here.
Bare.
On the ground.
Everything splayed out for the world to step on and see.
All my mysteries drawn out,
All the secrets are no more,
All my thoughts, read like a book.
And as my insides spill and leak out further and further from my abdomen,
The crimson splurges and spits out.
So I clench my last hope,
The few drops left of honey whiskey in a bottle,
And I close my eyes,
For one last time.
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 11:17 AM UTC
SORCERER 1
Fell prince, what can we say? Shall we
Wring fingers, gazing nervously
Into our black, obsidian mirror?
SORCERER 2
Or, in our water jugs, to peer,
Unbinding and retying twine,
In hope epiphanies shall shine?
SORCERER 3
Or shall we three, like puzzling mages,
Cast bright corn-kernels ‘cross the pages
Of scripture, wincing to descry
Some omen there?
SORCERER 1 Or shall we lie?
SORCERER 2
Were not your lethal gaze forbidden,
Our eyes from yours no longer hidden,
SORCERER 3
These mirrors unfilmed to windows-
SORCERER 1 Wink
We not, you might their contents drink.
They look at Motecuhzoma.
TLACAELEL
Bold, brass, and bungling open-sesames,
Whose saucy tongues shall spice my hangman’s stew,
You dare let sink your cataracted gaze
Upon the solar luminance of our king?
Who meets these eyes, beholds the face of death.
MOTECUHZOMA
Shackles shall seal their eyes. Clap them away.
My hopes were stillborn by these blind-man’s bluffs.
SORCERER 1
A grand charade shall come to pass,
As marching mysteries amass,
And urgently these lurkings gather.
SORCERER 2
If that is what your lord had rather
Hear from us, so be it, then.
SORCERER 3
We’ll break our seal and thus unpen
Two breeds of vision we may show:
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 1:02 PM UTC
*Amongst folded hills
The forest ripples
Dripping
Down into the valleys,
Then
Clambers back up
Towards heaven
A Saxon Lord, a hunter
A top his white and noble steed
Kinsmen close behind him
Hounds baying at the Stag
They pursue
Charges through the sunlight
Dappled green
Painted on his brow
Concentrated on his quest
Divided from his clan
Appearing in his vision
A group of maidens
Dancing
In a glade of sheer luminance
In their midst, one
Exquisite in her artistry
Flowers embroidered in
Golden hair
Shimmering in Elfin melodies
Entrancing in its harmony
He stood
Drowning in her beauty
Bewitched
Knowing
Never again could he be
Without
His Fairy Queen*
(C) Pixievic 2016
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 4:06 PM UTC