"lushly" poems
Indian pipes rise ghostly
from ancient compost
of needled tears shed
white bells corpse-silent
shunning Light’s vital touch
sleeping instead in symbiotic beds
of gracious hosts, who in turn
kiss the feet of living Giants
lushly burning gilded rays
to fuel their green economy
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 9:34 AM UTC
palace of lights caved
blooms through the body
like reality pitted against a comic book
not knowing where life came from
not knowing how it will end
food tubes or road ****
is creation substance-less?
24 carat nonsense,
or pure wisdom?
perhaps bad therapy
for lab animals
and store front dummies
monkeys shudder at needles
unless candied with a heroine syringe
chemistry a science of belligerence and euphoria
pleasure before despair
and than a sea of pain
and a ****
impaling her
the lushly contoured female
a frictionless exchange of power
for ******* ecstatic death
as her eyes bob and flutter
like cascading echo's
my birth tarot card
**** of swords
her favorite when I push through her
like blood bubble gum
b l o o d b u b b a b u b b le g u m
a **** cathedral of lights flicker spit
guttural diphthong
like a vipers castanets
uterine fire bursts like an appendix bomb
her **** a zoo
c u n t z o o
i am peanuts worms and hay
her face a mask to hide behind
breath play
sibilant ****
specter or nightmares
shadows and villains aphrodiac
gagged and drugged
hot ***** bound
a big eyed ****
s l u t l o v e
*** cannibals turn me on
her ****** a goddess
a Russian roulette
for shtttty kisses
sploosh
she shot me
cuckoo spit
k o cuck k o k o o
twizzles willie milk
in a drowning
moss draped moon orifice
under a shattered zodiac
wrapped in tentacles of night
she turns me on
Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 1:44 PM UTC
Lazily, a boy with silvery hairs muttering requiem aeternam
lifts his neck at the piercing radiance skimming off the eyeglasses rim,
and there looms the glory, the spotless sea of blue,
varnishes of spring gloss fuming out of the French coronation robe.
The still-brisk branches hung bent at the weight of vivacity,
sight of maidens whose eyes and grace bath in the full warmth of light,
the kisses on the face of the river by the shower of half-bloomed petals,
just as the stillborn thrills of the beating heart to the splintered fingers of Moirae.
The time of adieu,
the season of life.
The mourning procession amidst the lustily caressing May breeze.
-Primavera, thou name be the sweet irony of the dying flowers
The evening wades in, and the coy face of the mountain blushes;
Thence strides away the man whose gaze speaks of premature nostalgia
Here the wind whispers the rosy delirium from the sakura tree at the far side,
the faintness lushly hazed away by the cloudy veil of bittersweet grey.
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 7:13 AM UTC
Lushly lustful exotically ******
Vibrant virile fertile vicissitude
Puissant terminus loquacity photic
Pique piquant poignant pulchritude
Lecherous visceral longevous cohort
Wanton licentious erogenous frolic
Lurid lascivious ****** cavort
***** lewd apomixes anabolic
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 5:54 AM UTC
Blue flowered in the warm sun of winter
pungent fragrance wafts splendorous
smallish leaves, grow deeply green
with a sun-ward slant they lean
hum and sing with bees
reaching ever upward
wild, their fingers untamed
vigorous, they flourish
lushly in the lane
our hands grow green stained
here in a dream field
handfuls of rosemary
we steal
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 7:34 PM UTC
Crush the painted pestle stained
of berries, purple, black
Liquid crimson geranium blood
red the paper sack
Gathering colors, lushly green
go shades of tan the water weeds
mixed upon a stone
Woodsy calls, her depths of fall
lone a painter's
home
Oct 6, 2012
Oct 6, 2012 at 11:06 AM UTC
A gob of squash
in a saucer with a hub
let a carrefour marque
with an apple ding
in swirls of romance heading there
a crowd of superfluousness as a hip is king
and a patch through the field
that roll lushly on green for this round mesh
while exquisitness hit so sweet
in a shade of sky
where ablaze in silky attire
with her brazen desire again.
Jun 30, 2017
Jun 30, 2017 at 9:07 AM UTC
*You remind me of the earth,
like deep burnt umber woodlands
mid downpours' fresh aroma
& spring's foliage lushly reborn,
twinkling explosive pinpoints
grazing beyond dark ether,
sparkles dappling 'pon depths
of eternal seascapes's nature,
amidst breath of relentless airy winds
gusting above her majesty's hazes
beyond purple mountain's apex
and streams of meadows' wildflowers in
deftly painted horizons after moonbows,
vivid consciousness' uttermost reminisce
of all things recollected in the long ago
essence of your memories' presence*
Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 4:49 PM UTC
Eyes closed, counting the careful sheep
Bounding over broken fences breathlessly,
Tired and unused to tripping over traps
Spared by the seconds sat in contemplation's lap.
Your lids, lying lushly atop layers of
Dark pools of depth, spinning splendid tales of love,
Trust, and heartache, I can truly tell today
Was a day of definition for words I wisely said.
Lips moving in silent rhythm, rhyming, I imagine, with words unsaid.
And as I assume the memories in mind the moment falls silent and dead.
A quip, perhaps, spawned by sentries of silence growing lax,
Falling in frequent motion to the floor - hypothetically, for I cannot ask.
Your sleeping state causes silence to spread and create
An empty essence in the heavy air around us
Birthed from broken intentions and misapprehensions
I had upon our meeting of matters as such.
Please, presume to sleep through my present departure
Deprived of arrows from Venus's archer
Allow my invading presence to avidly intrude
Once more, though his objection's mouthpiece does not move.
Lightly, so as to lay loosely upon the morrow,
I brush bold lips upon the brow pulled in sorrow
But whose silent reverie starts in sleepy surprise -
But, to my relief, falls back to oblivion with a sleepy sigh.
Brushing trembling tips of fingers foolishly
Across the air that passes on the lips
That burn with oxygen's contact with it -
I start when I see his tired eyes
Regarding me with scant surprise.
Those dark pools of infinite sorrow lay sight
On me, caught sneaking silent vows of affection,
And a blush engulfs everything from my eyes to my knees
On which his wary hand waits in his wakeful state.
Several silent moments descend indignantly,
And I dare to risk retribution for crimes committed
But to my sudden surprise I see a challenge in his eyes
And abruptly I am bound to the ground beneath him
And though I know once I stole a simple innocent kiss
He steals now from me my heart through my lips.
Feb 28, 2011
Feb 28, 2011 at 8:13 PM UTC
Of man’s creations there are many,
A well cared for mature orchard
Is certainly one.
Be it generator of fruit or nuts,
Their perfect symmetry is bless,
Row upon row, standing tall,
Branches almost touching one,
Tree unto another,
Filled out and lushly dense,
As to block out the sun,
Ever striking the earth.
The ground beneath, around the trees,
Swept and manicured clean as a
Empty Billiard Table, awaiting the harvest.
Walk among these umbrella like trees
A tranquil quite abounds,
Recalling the peaceful interior of a church,
The songs of nesting birds the heavenly chorus.
A cool and shaded location, to be alone,
Well suited to meditation,
Or even composing a Poem.
Yet, oh how sad it truly is,
When an orchard goes abandoned,
Becoming the embodiment of apathetic neglect,
A bombed out city ruin of good intentions,
**** choked and cluttered,
Rotted Harvest and blackened branches,
Littering the unkempt ground.
Gone now from tranquil perfection,
To a dead and dying blight upon the land.
With no human hands to tend it,
Its glory is gone and the end is near.
Similar now to a spooky Cemetery,
No longer a space of serene splendor,
Or a place one might desire to undertake,
A meandering reflective stroll.
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 5:24 PM UTC
There among the lushly verdant
Mosses damp and darkest green
Enchanted by a single word and
They call to life the darkness queen.
She slept with one dark resolution
Born of ages long forgot
Sworn to find her retribution
For what his villainy had wrought.
Sorcery built his path immortal
Claimed her castle of the North
Centuries five bring forth a portal
The key? One word to call her forth.
In an old, forgotten oak chest
A parchment found, it told the tale
Three women struck out on the quest
Resisting rain and blowing gale.
Gathered round the glade of green
At time foretold by old quatrain
They prepared to raise the queen
One word to resurrect her reign.
Rising now from forest floor
From deep within the ancient henge
Brought forth she flies to wage her war
Raised-up by one brief word: "Revenge"
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 12:59 PM UTC
Gorgeous and lushly coloured
West End lights so brightly shine
Reflected in the obsidian road wet with rain
And slick with reckless hope
The painful slope of tired dreams
Winds down around a bronzed
Soldier, toting his gun, who grimly
Sets his lantern jaw against the
Long dead faces of war and fear
I sit at his feet and watch the cabs
I draw on my cigarette and pick out
Eyes of the people sitting in their seats
They are travelling fast to places
Where I’ll never go and I don’t care
Their lives will play out and we’ll never
Speak or smile together though
Our atoms are siblings in phase
I lift my head to the stars and
Marvel at the time passing many
Years ago when the world was young
And nature was naive enough to
Believe she had got it right
The night lights flicker slowly on
And off and mimic the pinprick
Glows against the raven wing
Canvass above my head
Nothing in this world can shake
My beliefs or so I thought
Until the days when life became
A subtle masquerade and the
Food in the dishes no longer gave
Me the nourishment I craved
Everything I knew was wrong
And right was just a wishful thing
So here I sit, my suit crumpled and
Wet with sweat, the tears and rain
My case is thrown over there and it
Has burst its gut spilling those once
Important papers but now just covered
In vacuous glyphs known to others
But no longer to me
At home that think I am this
They think I am that
They say they know what I will say
When this or that happens
They know me little and
Like all men when grips slacken
Just the few square inches in my brain are
Truly mine and infused with logic
That tumbles central and
Squats on a raffia mat
In a windowless room
Happy in my world and loving
In my deepest thought
Placid in my retrospective views
Motionless against the swell
Of the crowd around me;
Nothing more of me is required of me now
I am free to leave they tell me
And for that I’m
Pleased
I close my eyes and fall to imageless sleep
The cabs keep whizzing by and
The stares are still fixed upon their
Days of lives as they approach
And when they finally come
I will greet them with a simple
“You know me”.
Feb 19, 2012
Feb 19, 2012 at 11:49 AM UTC
platinum rays of an
algarvian december sun
touch a magical landscape
that pulses with ancient
life
and as lushly green undulating hills
with orange groves and
olive trees and
scattered red rocks
unfold under
a cloudless cerulean sky
I hear
hono lena’i’ja
a far away echo is stirring
deep within
sending shivers down my spine
awakening akeneic memory
without words
without thoughts –
a silent knowing
my akene explodes in
white hot light
engulfing my whole beingness –
painful almost
it takes my breath
away
wordless feelings
but I know
lemuria is rising
Eja’i Oja’i
© Jasmine Martin, the Algarve, Portugal, December 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 7:50 PM UTC
What Will Happen If
01/27/2019
The Human specie disappeared
The earth will still revolve around its axis
Causing day and night on its surface
The planet will still elliptically circle the sun
Causing the seasons, life's nourishment
The rain will still fall, and the rivers flow
The plants will still grow and fruit and flower
The birds will still sing, and the insects hum
Mammals and the animals will still roam amid
The forests that will still lushly cover the land
The oceans, where the life began, will churn
Continuing with its amazing eco system
Of abundant blue green algae, krill and coral
Teaming with microbes, fish and mammals
Life will continue to evolve with each passing day
Causing birth and rebirth and survival above all
And upon extinction of one, others will be born
Alas! The annihilator, we humans are still here
Jan 27, 2019
Jan 27, 2019 at 11:45 AM UTC
do i
(with under you
r skirt
i pluck you
snarling
little fairy
my fingers
nimbly gowned
in your flesh
and wetness
completely
slipperying
)
reckon swelling
eve falling lushly
her stink
on
U
string
fervently
pumped
into right
between your
lips
suddenly
!
Jul 14, 2011
Jul 14, 2011 at 5:19 PM UTC
As I walk
upon the
pavements,
rain fills the
atmosphere
with endless
rivers, the
people I
pass
create
gardens
of words,
ages will
pass, and
you may
always
relive the
lost art of
conversation,
where two
souls can
become
one, lushly
grown from
the eternity of
beautiful minds,
I pause,
as a tear
within
the oceans
of eyes
In this
night,
lanterns
of paradise,
unaware
of their
own
beauty,
I close
my eyes,
wishing to
sleep
forever,
under the
waterfall
flowing
until the
end of
time,
the
milky
way
opens
from
this chest,
a lighthouse
spreading
endless
depth,
reaching
the hearts
of the
wounded,
I awaken,
and see
a reflection
within the
glass of
a secluded
home,
a man
falls to
the ground
with his
hands
upon the
earth,
his dew
Is mine,
her dew
Is mine,
their
dew
Is the
cries of
my soul,
and so,
I open
my hands,
and cradle
the warmth
of this love
as a birthplace
of healing,
the sun
dawns
upon the
golden
waters,
I enter
the train
with the
other
passengers,
waiting
upon the
journey
to return
home
Sep 8, 2017
Sep 8, 2017 at 8:48 AM UTC
dear,
beloved
clouds bring me
your deluge for I am
parched. this well has gone
dry, and I have nothing left to give,
so water me with your life and let me
live lushly. let my leaves become dark green
instead of this dry brown that crumbles at any
touch. pump my wilted stems with energy
to power my brilliant growth towards the
shinning blue sky that will gratefully
occur after the rain.
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 3:15 AM UTC
Will you kiss my heart tonight Lord?
And make me bloom lushly
like the lotus moon rising over
a barren and lifeless desert
how I languish in the scattered funeral
petals of another orphaned day
seeking only Your radiance and
those luminous orbs that dance
around the sun forever
Who can love me like You—God?
robed in a long dark dream
I wait in the orange embers
of Your Presence
for the only caress that
really matters
the only kiss
that truly endures
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 10:34 AM UTC
While transforming his aesthetic liberty
into narcissism
he gambles with expressions
Turning the locutions of credos into beauty of tenets
trying to find amorous melody of life
he always lost in lushly thoughts
recreating a brazen space for new celestial cities
he is blissfully poetic.
He is a bloke compelled to dream on
Harbouring hope, conceiving the ambition
Delivers the ultimate…
Even at the tragic ******** release
He is still a Poet.
Being Utopian is his
second nature
forgetting
the cultured bites of
trauma in dogmatic ethics
He assuredly tried weaving
a carpet of viaduct
between the actuality and contentment
Yet, every time failed to
realize the power of reality
bouncing him back from his Felicia
After all he is a poet.
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 3:38 PM UTC
There used to be this hill upon which I would sit.
I'd watch the stars every night I could as they waltzed across the sky.
I watched Apollo mount his chariot and Ra he did the same.
My favorite nights were when the gods would battle with swords of fire off in the distance.
I thought about that night the night wept.
She was alone, as if it had just occurred to her.
She didn't look at me when I sat on the bed next to her.
She embraced me and cried. It wasn't the "I just found out Tiffany bought the same shoes I did" cry.
It was her heart. The pain was too much to bear.
Forever upon this hill were my four horsemen.
Pestilence, Famine, Disease, and Death.
Steadfast in awaiting my orders they heed in limbo.
And when the day comes when I've had enough.
(ok so the horsemen were just four trees in close proximity but it's my ****** hill so they're horsemen)
I used to imagine being able to walk on the clouds.
Not those whispy ones. Obviously not structurally sound.
No, those big puffy ones. Climbing over them as if they were albino boulders.
Taking ***** on my enemies. Because so would you.
I fell in love three times on this very hill.
And as many times as I paced that ****** hill.
Wouldn't you know it? There was never any love to be found.
In all fairness though. I'm not smart enough to recognize it either.
I never liked the wind upon my hill so high.
Oh sure, every time it got windy the blades of grass would break out into this impromptu synchronized dance montage.
It just had a way of distracting me from my thoughts.
I still think about this hill. It sits on high upon a sill.
It's there this hill must stay. Upon this sill so far away.
I go there in my mind you see. To bury my thoughts or set them free.
I'm taking you there one day too soon.
Don't make plans that afternoon.
I wrote those lines up on that hill. Words like that don't rhyme at will.
**** it and **** I am getting off topic!
This is worse than when I wrote that biopic.
Focus kid, I know you're high. Just make it look pretty and say your goodbye.
My lushly green haired knuckle cocked up from the ground.
It's where you find me should you need me. But that's it. You'll never need me.
Don't worry about it. Because she's up here with me.
And there are no questions. Just laughter.
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 9:48 PM UTC
Now I can breath in the valley air,
Sans the fear and despair,
Though I have never been to
the scrumptious valley fair.
Stories of the turmoils,
Bloodshed and the toils,
Now I can see the sun
rising from horizon of scare.
Lofty and lushly I hear,
Chinar trees sear,
Blood red, mauve, yellow leaves,
allegorical, the bruise heal.
Insurgence has met its expiration,
Reverent, stands the nation,
And now after the tremulous affair
Let's breath in the valley air.
Bostful, the national pride,
Paradoxical waft shall end,
And as a nation, we stand,
To breath in the valley air.
Aug 30, 2019
Aug 30, 2019 at 11:49 AM UTC
Mine November
It was the sunny November;
The day which I always remember
Coz all of friends were same and somebody came
Unexpectedly...
To make the words tunely;
And ecstasy to live even strongly
To fragrance mine flower
with amending in an hour
Lushly...
see the moon isn't brightening like the same
since the day you have came
mine bird got its nest
and my life is glorious till the rest
Unamendingly...
Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 9:45 PM UTC
what if i destroy you
what if i put you between heaven
and hurting
what if i love you
what if you find me dreaming
some morning and lushly
fold me in your crispest singe
?
Feb 13, 2012
Feb 13, 2012 at 5:54 AM UTC