Creature of myth, you have to be real
I know you're there, I know you exist
Can't see nor touch but indeed I feel
That should suffice to say the least
No one I know has seen this mythical creature
I stand by my beliefs... I simply just do...
This being unknown to aged texts or ancient scriptures
Allow me to document, I'll keep it true
"A magnificent neck that tapers into a head
Much like a halo, wearing a luminescent crown
Azurite for eyes like many have said
A golden mane majestically cascading down
Almond shaped face, with cheeks slightly scaled
In the centre were dimple-like nostrils
From it's mouth, a voice; demure and frail
Speaks in verses from a time frozen still
Within the cage right under its chest
I know that calmly there lay beating
A huge, magnanimous heart does rest
Embedded deep within a physique so beguiling
Its spine is perfect, as if forged by a divine mould
Limbs are long, but with gait so light
Non terrestrial wings that into nothing they fold
Stretched around is smoothened skin milky white"
That is all I have got to offer so far
Matched the words to my mind's bewitching visage
No one has seen it; thus ensured that they cannot mar
In my head will forever be etched the image
Creature of myth... Please be real
Know that I am blinded, I just want to see
Not for the others, you don't reveal
I do believe... I just need to convince me...
years of disheartening
my deteriorating mind.
darkness romanced delusions,
intimidating personal integrity.
fog drizzed mists
of abyssal depression,
denser than Satan’s fevidness.
isolated from human contact,
ive hugged authenticity,
a comforting pillow,
that embraces imperfections
is like snuggling
with a lover who adores,
wisdom has shown me,
is a selfless necessary.
Theres still 5 more lives
Connecting and disconnecting
In this scene
An American diner
In south west England
Sat in a booth
That holds thousands of shared
And narratives that only we feel
With characters we played and knew
There’s no stronger drug
Than those things humans have collectively been through
But I didn’t think of this
When I looked at you
I’d never seen you look this good
Not in years
You’ve just upgraded
Your vehicle in life
No paper boy bicycle
Doing the rounds
But a brand new direction
You don’t need to worry for the next 3 years
Joined a scheme that will take you where you want to be
I wished it was me
**** seductive sensual serene super!
Open optimistic orbital original!
Mesmeric moral magnanimous mine!
Emotional exciting empath electric!
Obliging outstanding orator ohh ohh!
Natural naughty neat nice nourishing!
Excellent ****** effusive exceptional!
J.C. honey-tiger 28/05/2019
Another variation on my sweetest sweets pseudynom..'someone', this one each word in the line must also start with the first letter...
My family has a saying
Repeated often in my life
Never end a day without a sorry
Don't let the darkness cloud your night
Whatever little spat you've had
However small the slight
Wounds from words can fester
To make wrongs of any right
Keep your fences mended
Keep your loved ones close
Make sure every day is ended
Without some rancour up your nose
Even if you are in the right
Be magnanimous be cool
Wake up everyday in sunlight
Peace is not a majority rule
The bitter drink is that of loneliness
Pure desire. How it destroys a soul,
Magnificent malnutrition; magnanimous toward
A yearn. Unanswered, festering wounds.
Crashing thrashing, harassing,
Loneliness still sings.
The little buds
Soon to wither
Not wanting to die pitifully
On such a sunny day
Under the scorching heat
Prayed for some rain
And it began to rain
With the still bright day
Painted a beautiful picture
Drizzles tickled each of the bud
Teased to flaunt their beauty
It rained gently
Enough to water the land
Make the flowers bloom
To a magnanimous sight
Thought it was just a soft pour
For a brief moment
So they prayed for the rain
To stay for a while more
And so the rain did stay
But then never leave
For a long time
Just like of a storm
Each of its drop
Now hurts the flowers
Heavy fall tears them apart
Every time the rain
Touches the land
Flowers got more drenched
Soon they will drown
And get washed away
Yet they smile
One by one
As they face their end
They glint a smile
[Cab Chronicles, I] Some time in the end of Feb 2018, while travelling to work in a cab, rain started to pour and drops touched the window... and this poem was born.
There is no perfect thing that exsists, only the perfection two halves create to make a whole. This is unsurpassed. People completing what's missing in each other. It is not to be understood.
Perfect is, never really seeing the immense universe that surrounds us until we find it in someone else's eyes. All other perceptions of perfect are only a distortion. That is unreal.
And tooth and nail will be forever lost trying to hold on but we must fight to see it. Hold on to it. Lose a lifetime to it. If we cannot open our eyes we are all, eternally lost;
There is no perfect person who stands alone. This is why we are all lost in the crowd, it's a struggle to fight ourselves to see this. An illusion is easier to accept. So do we?
A shallow hungry world that only takes. An imitation of a sun, false and burnt out. Starving everyone as we are none the wiser.
Be gentle and magnanimous and allow it in. We choose. Change. We choose. Virtue.
Refuse the things that are too easily swallowed. Put up a fight. Welcome the true nature of perfection, the only one that's real.
let the wind
to catch up
falling want to
let the sky
on his neck
they hold you
you trace the scars
they hold you
on holding on
run into the sun
of open fields and
and dotted kisses
city walls are
until your home
in your dreams
until he is
only a shadow
and you can
on the backs
of your feet.
so one day
run on back
The cries of broken hearts
pleasantly melodious to my ears.
I collect bottles of pathetically wasted tears
and use them as ink for my typewriter.
Hopping from window to window,
I come in the form of guilt,
and a tinge of wringing regret.
I will bring you to the highest level
of self condemnation
and keep you miserably awake,
gifted with the soul of an insomniac.
I’d even leave wisps of bittersweet memories
if I was feeling a little sympathetic
or particularly magnanimous.
Certainly, I cannot always be lenient,
being a sadist is part of the job description.
— The End —