"melding" poems
Collab, collab! Oh thoughtful collabs!
Amalgamation of two unique minds,
Merging of dual thinking labs!
Cerebral workshop of life's diverse grinds!
Collab, collab! Reinforced true!
Melding of minds and honed crafts,
Mounted up with bolt and *****
Assembled solid in monochromed poetic drafts.
Collab, collab! A trend that's trending!
A fad that now seems ever growing...
Each other's style we will be wearing.
Matching ensembles, yours for the liking.
Collab, collab! More of it please!
Ocean of creativity, pearls ripe for picking,
Journey for two across artistic seas.
Wonder who with next I'll be swimming...
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 2:03 PM UTC
.
It's here again...
Heavy downpour...
I inhaled the rain,
cloying with petrichor.
Standing at my window,
looking out...
Street lamps struggled aglow.
People with brollies walking about.
My eyes reached out to the heavens,
tracing these glassy beads
as they'd free fall...
Falling by the sheets,
the pattering hastens,
periodically punctuated
by the thunder's call.
Mind is drifting and floating,
intently listening to a
million love wishes...
Liquid beauty...melding, sketching...
In light entrapped splashes.
Raindrops descend and come,
into my still life tonight...
Won't you will me numb,
with your chilly bite...
Wide-eyed enamour...
Catching a stray droplet or two.
Riding the tail of a zephyr,
finding a place where
no trouble could ensue.
An errant gust blew
to meet with me.
The refreshing moist
meets my parted lips...
Inhaling deep in this reverie...
Into a sea of tranquillity,
my mind slowly dips...
Sigh... If the droplets were kisses...
I would savour each and every one.
If the moist wind came and caresses
I would meet it in a tight embrace
till the break of sun.
What a sight...
Almost surreal it seems...
As the light from the surrounding
lamps dances playfully...
Dispersing and exploding into a
barrage of shattered beams.
Before it gets subdued in the drops
caught by the leaves on a nearby tree...
The drops would trickle
and fall before merging,
forming stranded puddles
unable to flow...
Rippling... Splashing... Reflecting...
An image...
Borne out of a fantastic show.
An image of beating hearts,
overlapping one another...
Speaking of consequential love
and feelings so true
Intertwined...
in the promise of forever...
Slowly retrieving itself into an...
image of you...
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 7:18 AM UTC
Blameless as daylight I stood looking
At a field of horses, necks bent, manes blown,
Tails streaming against the green
Backdrop of sycamores. Sun was striking
White chapel pinnacles over the roofs,
Holding the horses, the clouds, the leaves
Steadily rooted though they were all flowing
Away to the left like reeds in a sea
When the splinter flew in and stuck my eye,
Needling it dark. Then I was seeing
A melding of shapes in a hot rain:
Horses warped on the altering green,
Outlandish as double-humped camels or unicorns,
Grazing at the margins of a bad monochrome,
Beasts of oasis, a better time.
Abrading my lid, the small grain burns:
Red cinder around which I myself,
Horses, planets and spires revolve.
Neither tears nor the easing flush
Of eyebaths can unseat the speck:
It sticks, and it has stuck a week.
I wear the present itch for flesh,
Blind to what will be and what was.
I dream that I am Oedipus.
What I want back is what I was
Before the bed, before the knife,
Before the brooch-pin and the salve
Fixed me in this parenthesis;
Horses fluent in the wind,
A place, a time gone out of mind.
16.9k
*towering gently overflowing with heightened awareness
subtle hints of blade’s keen glittering chiseled edges
untamed rugged surface powerfully averts gale’s acrid tempest
vigor pulsating that doth persuade the cloud’s reflections
if i shall not again embrace a meager glimpse; a demure echo
of thine towering mounts my soul shall ever suffer
my spirit soars with e'er one glance of thine majestic presence
replete with reminiscence seasons stir and beg thine tender mercies
to house the changing leaves at dusk of autumn’s auburn portraits
and give birth to crystal snow cascading peripherally in winter
which melding into spring then begs thy bluffs to cover
in soft amethyst of columbine blossoming first light of summer
‘tis not paramount to scale high aloft thine peaks in escalation
for small sheer glances stamp forever with imperial impressions
and ‘tho i’ve traveled ‘round and savored nature’s varied essence
none can compare thine evergreens laced in aspens nuance
my breath is gone and shan’t return ‘til in thy shadow casting
i stand and look upon thine hallowed face the rocky mountains
©2016 janetaylor
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 4:42 PM UTC
°••°••°••°
°•°◇°•°
There are no
Monsters here...
this, the
abandoned
soft, fertile soil,
that was
to feed the
Family Gardens.
No evil creatures, lurking behind
these timid
hurting hearts.
a painful place...
this invasive, pervasive,
clusterfuck
of Us .
Here lay
The raw,
The ragged
mashed up
mis-understandings.
An onslaught
of hurts,
that float and fester
in our cauldron
of tears.
'Canvas of Colors'
tells Our story...
Melding together
The frozen and
unthawed moments of
all the
Precious
Forever
Embraces
There are no Monsters here
We are the tender
beings that continue
to breathe ragged
after the forest fire,
tripping through
Crumbling Ashes
turned wet black.
Dank and slippery.
Yearning to find
strong footing
amongst these
ruins of our
own doing
No evil creatures, lurking behind
these timid
hurting hearts
There are no Monters here
May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 2:40 AM UTC
*And like moments
were words
I made a wish
to the stars…*
And now
*Soon I will hold you close
envelop your heart
kiss your loving soul
and when the words
become so real
that we cannot stand
the electric energy
that flows...
Those moments
will be ours.. alone
with each other...
And again and again
we will meet
after dark
as the moon
yawns in awakening
and the only
light to be seen
embraces us
in a sparkling soft shade
of silver blue.
In that secret place
we will always meet
where the clouds greet
the swaying trees
sprinkling moonlight
in the shadows
as your touch
lingers on my skin
a radiant heat
melding slowly
with the
tingling warmth
your love
blankets me in.*
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 11:03 AM UTC
Little girls with their hair in pig tails
old men chatting away over a game of cards
the endless clapping of heels on concrete
madness
business men in suits and ties
faces melding to iPhones
catholic priests ******* kids
they know his name
danger in a lightning flashed smile
panic in a thunder clapped laugh
they know his name
but it never leaves their tongues
he dances in the gaps of their teeth
and chips away at our heart strings
incessant whispers in our ears
telling us what we want
what we need
he stands off in the shadowed corners
of every forgotten room
in every one time family home
as we watch our worlds
crumble around us
if Christ lives inside of all
then he has one hell of a roommate
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 11:05 AM UTC
floating on
the pond
dragonflies zip
above me
thinking I
am an
organic substance
an algae-dipped
nympth
my hair in fronds
the subtle ripple
of sunstreak
on thigh
like reflections of
rainbow lanterns
upon skin
my skin, puckered
from melding
aquatic escapade
is soothed in this home
of kissing koi
who welcome me
in fin brushes
bubbles on the
small
of my back
sweet as the
lush harmony
of waterlily voices
that only I can hear
as the gaze of frogs
and forest dwellers
imprints upon
the inner lids
of my
starlit
eyes
Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 2:44 PM UTC
rescinding messages of longing and lust
cast off to the wind like a broken record
skittering, twisting down the street in early morn'
your laying to rest your tired conscience on me
like one of those lovers in a movie theater
brushed off like salt on a shoulder
twirled like a young girls hair mid flirtation giggle
i think we're dancing in the streets now
scuffing shoes against concrete
mind-melding as we soft shoe across the yellow lines
i'm kicking you to the curb
like a rock into a gutter
your blowing through me like a chilled breeze
shuffling past me hurriedly to another time
like a scarf mid swing o're a cold shoulder
i turn 'round swiftly to meet you
dizzily.
Oct 20, 2010
Oct 20, 2010 at 6:09 PM UTC
In the witching hour all is quiet except for the beating sound of two hearts entwined with passion and agony beating more angry by the minute.
Blinded eyes try to pierce through the dark abyss to find sanity in a place of cold nothingness and desolation, as the tortured mind cloudy with regret slowly fades away..
nails claw at blinded eyes longing to see the clouds part and behold, his goddess is there basking in the pale yellowing aura of the moon, as he looks longingly upon her..
skin and curves of perfection soaking up the yellowing, becoming golden upon his slightest gaze.
Knees become burning furnaces of pain and torment as he falls to kneel before her, begging with soundless words of an open mouth for release.
Paralyzed, hungrily devouring as her sightless eyes fall upon her brooding brow trailing down to the blinding stars that become her eyes under the harvest moon.
The wind blows fierce surrounding her in a halo of color plucked dead limbs, trailing off into oblivion.
She gazed upon his visage, her fierceness burning his soul in eternal torment she smirks and glides toward effortlessly slowly,
tantalizingly slow,
causing him great anguish and letting her sadistic humor known to all..
he lashed out and traps her in his iron eyes transfixed on lips so full and soft as crimson color them tricking down her body hungrily eating her perfect curves he kisses her
hard throwing themselves down a bottom less pit entangled in passion he forces her legs apart he slams into her as she drips wet in anticipation..
She moans breathlessly in extract, her ***** like velvet greedily devours his hardened **** of stone repeatedly ****** her innocence, tired bodies continuously fall exhausted.
She tried to flee, but his fires flamed inside hotly he takes her again.
His embrace hard, intense
his iron will dominating her.
Breaking her wild spirit, she gasps as he unleashes a relentless force inside her driving her to the edge of sanity and back again.
Her eyes close for the last time giving into his dominance
she embraced him.
Her wild flaming spirit shattered knowing that as he worships her it is she who is forever a slave of their passionate love,
melding bodies together,
as they fall endlessly in the abyss.
Apr 13, 2022
Apr 13, 2022 at 9:04 PM UTC
A sea of voices murmuring
At the ballpark in the afternoon.
Shouts of "Hot dogs! Foot-long hot dogs!"
And chanted hometown cheers
Fill the sweltering summer air.
Men with wooden sticks and leather gloves
Play a nation's beloved pastime.
And I watch enraptured by the rhythm,
Sounds and smells of this place.
Sometimes you just need a slowdown of life,
A weekend dedicated to the melding
Of past, present, and future,
A getaway into the wonderful world of
BASEBALL.
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 12:57 AM UTC
Lay me down
in those fields
of silken flowers
where the buzzing
over our heads
whirls us into
lightspun holy
my dress a metaphor
for loneliness
as you lift it off
and let it disintegrate
into the evening's
electric ether
your lips
undoing the tight
leather laces
that have held my
heart in place
until now
Now.
undo them
in unfurled totality
let my feminine essence
drip, in non-verbal words
onto your fingers
let my elements
light you up
from within
firebrand sunset
in molten metallic sheen
indigo lip of ocean
melding into crackling
hiss of earth
and humming
under this
dark rich loam
tiny vibrating buds
sprout from fossils
trilobites become
hazy with new moss
seething insects
lay eggs and spawn
feeling the bloodpulse,
that simmer of surface
in slick magnet energy
Curled stems of wild
poppies and zinnia
tie down my wrists
snake around my thighs
clasp my
tender-boned ankles
as if to open me
up even more
than I thought
my soul
could go
and I do not resist
for soon they will
accompany you
as you decorate my
deepest womb
with blossoms
filling me with your
soul's seed
your musk-scented fervor
nestled, subaqueous
into the root of
my sweet
deep
of
need
Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 6:36 PM UTC
Different strokes for different folks, but if I stuttered when I spoke, there is a reason why I wrote, and if you think that I'm a joke, then stroke me, stroke me...
Empirical lyrically virile and viral a warrior reborn like he's gone out of style,
a rage unabated both non-syncopated and internal/external no meter's abated!
You wanted an anthem?
You wanted a cause?
You wanted a figure to even the odds?
You thought I was kidding
but now you're admitting that
I am the chosen whose broken the clause!
Rising in status, my main apparatus, the attitude: platitudes lack the finesse!
I'm searching for perfect not anything less!
I'm raring to stage an incredible coup, there just ain't a limit to what I can do!
Melding the milieus of millions and millions of masses who clash for the chance for the cash,
when all that was needed was truth to believe in, significance outed, you puppet let's dance!
No bragging, no lagging, and no more sandbagging, the hustle is over, your tussle is weak!
For soon we will savor the end of your flavor, fifteen minutes over, your outlook is bleak.
I'm nobody's pigeon hole, nobody's fool, I've seen quite my share of arrogant tools,
but here are the statements that lead me to greatness:
love me or hate me, go on instigate me, ignore me and gasp when you hear of my rule!
I'm raring to stage an incredible coup, there just ain't a limit to what I can do!
Now join me in raising a fist to the sky,
and pound upon pressure to powers that lie.
Make diamonds of rhyme-ends and squelter your silence
to pierce through the casket that left us so quiet.
Their reign is run dry, and nobody buys it, let's hit this at home so they cannot supply it.
Prepare the artillery pack in your fire, you're gonna need it , if the bars get any higher,
now hear from the jokee, I dare you provoke me, you still talking **** well stroke me, stroke me.
I'm raring to stage an incredible coup, there just ain't a limit to what I can do!
**I'm willing to take it for me and for you, THERE'S NO ******* LIMIT TO WHAT WE CAN DO!**
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 4:41 PM UTC
the coffee is warm
as it slides down my throat,
the heat spreading through my chest and
down to my stomach i know
the sun is rising somewhere up to my right,
amber rays hitting my hunched shoulders
and back,
but my mind is focused on the lines swirling in front of me,
words strung together just begging
to be said aloud,
letters floating all over the page until
they take the shape of
my best dream and worst nightmare,
my apologies and angry rants and
all the times i’ve fallen in love without reciprocation
and the boys i’ve hurt and people i never want to forgive.
i write about early morning sunrises
and late night stargazing
and all the feelings i’ve never felt,
strangers i’ve never kissed in
foreign streets but i know
one day these letters will float off the page,
take shape in
a little place called Reality...
but for now,
it’s just me,
the coffee,
and my poetry,
melding together under
the rising sun.
-a.c.b
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 10:06 AM UTC
I have this vague vision of tangerines bleeding
into blue green skies.
Or maybe cat puke melding with the emerald
carpet beneath my feet.
Some sort of merging, colors, textures, clear and
pristine but elusive.
I have no idea what I'm going on about but I
know it is important.
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 7:52 PM UTC
Eyes meeting eyes
as anticipation peaks
hearts pounding fast
even skipping beats.
A slow moving burn
blissful fire on the rise
gentleness in the moment
emotions intensify.
Fingertips trace
passion flows free
souls lock together
sparks you see.
Melding into one another
as lips meet
time and space stills
repeat… repeat…repeat…
A magical moment
deliciously divine
that first kiss
dripping of honeyed
sweet wine.
~
Oct 2, 2017
Oct 2, 2017 at 8:53 PM UTC
ღ♥´¯'°¤ღ ღ¤°´¯'♥ღ
***My last first kiss
shall be
remembered
taken in with every touch
into my very last nerve
every fiber of my being
make me whole my
soul find heaven
my life have meaning.***
*My last first Kiss
shall be
instilled
in my heart forever
eyes meeting eyes
as anticipation peaks
hearts pounding fast
even skipping beats.
I will take it all in
blissful love on the rise
gentleness in the moment
as emotions intensify.*
***That last first kiss
I shall savor taste
I shall be united for once
when I taste her lips
meant for only
me to find
from the beginning.***
*That last first kiss
will be
heaven on earth
as our
passion flows free
and our souls
lock together
just him and me.
Melding into one another
as our lips meet
time and space
will still….
repeat… repeat…repeat…*
***Just her
And
Paradise***
*A magical moment
with him
so beautifully divine
our last first kiss
will drip
forever
of honeyed
sweet wine.*
ღ♥´¯'°¤ღ ღ¤°´¯'♥ღ
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 12:19 AM UTC
They say
You are what you eat
So I pick beautiful flowers
And devour them.
Don't be afraid
They take root in my brain
pinch my eyes closed
pry my heart open
Slip seeds into my bloodstream
I devour flowers
Because they are small beautiful things
And I want to be
Beautiful
In that same fragile and wilting way.
I take them from the ground
so that one day I can
wither in embraces
And die in glass containers
On your bedside table
In your living room
Still and stuck and slow
I put them in my mouth whole
Petals tickling my tongue
Sliding down my throat
Roots melding into flesh
And they taste like sunshine and dirt
And something distinct
that feels like
Breathing
I devour them
till I have a garden growing in my stomach
Breaking across my skin
And I will keep
Devouring
Till they take root in my heart
And I am made of fragile
Beautiful
Things
That you can devour.
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 11:53 PM UTC
Is this not what it's all about?
Waiting in the wings,
stretching, turning, churning,
anxious and adrenal,
living for the dream,
wishing for the dream,
being
the dream,
dancing on beams,
beneath the streams
of lights and fans,
arrayed like a bird
in tulle, crinoline, silk, satin and linen
white plumage,
acting only on command,
the music soft and flowing
their frail, slender figures
take to air,
arms and legs,
torsos tender,
slender necks,
wisps of downy hair,
melding colours,
sights and sounds,
the stage a pedestal of fate,
their beauty
captured
in gilded cages
for all to watch and see,
recaptured yet again,
by the artist on the easel'd window
of his canvas,
a maestro of sorts,
tapping his baton-brush,
coating the blankness with sweet
inspiration,
like angels heavenly
brought to earth,
serenaded by strings,
life from the blankness begins,
covers the void,
bejewels the mind's eye
and beckons the ballet
rehearsal to begin,
yet shall in oil paint now
and for all time
never cease to be...
"Art is not what you see, but what you make others see."
Edgar Degas
____________
Inspired by the painting by Impressionist artist Edgar Degas,
The Rehearsal.
--to view the painting:
http://www.ibiblio.org/wm/paint/auth/degas/ballet/degas.rehearsal.jpg
Sep 3, 2010
Sep 3, 2010 at 3:24 AM UTC
~Christi Michaels~April 2015~
●~°~♢●⊙●♢~°~●
I remember Love
a melding complete and fine
intimacy both ******
a union fulfilling~Divine
knew what defined forever
understood magic shared
held each day with tenderness
palpable how much We cared
I remember being satisfied
feeling soft deep down deep
believing You and Me
described the meaning complete
knew what defined forever
understood magic shared
held each day with tenderness
palpable how much We cared
yes I remember Love
feeling soft deep down deep
A melding complete and fine
knew what defined forever
a union, complete~Divine
~●~♢~●°●⊙●°●~♢~●~
Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 2:56 PM UTC
Sparks ignite wick nerves
Burning throughout
Melting wax flesh
Pooling snugly
Melding
warmth departing
coagulating and cold
disconnect impossible
shape of an accident
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 6:29 AM UTC
Sharpeville, 21 March 1960
"The native mentality does not allow them
to gather for a peaceful demonstration.
For them to gather means violence."
- Lieutenant Colonel Pienaar
1.
We went with wrists ready
For metal shackles
To clench
Their cold grip
Onto fire hot skin
Boiling with white rage;
The appropriate rage.
This situation has justification
In the predications they hold true
Where to some
Human is synonymous with
******* nature,
Dangerous and hungry for
Light white blood we
Must be caged
To prevent the massacre
We could create.
2.
A child’s body is not a hurdle.
But when fleeing,
Feet pounding on dirt paths,
Black with dark blood, leaking
From shafts of taunting revolvers
And throats of the permanently
Silenced,
What do you do but run?
5,000 bodies bound together,
Melding flesh with flesh,
Fusing unhinged bones to bones
Still cradled in their skin,
Line the street where
Puddles are forming next to
Concaved skulls emptied
By misinformed bullets.
Last thoughts and worries
Are forever splattered on faces,
Tracing red lines
On skin
Sooty black,
As dark as nights will be.
3.
Sixty-nine lay dead.
A rock they said.
When interrogations
Took place
A rock they said.
Empty hands laid
Palm in palm
But a rock they said,
This, they said, sparked
The worry
That made it right for them
To make bullets fall
Onto us like metal raindrops
From an angry heaven
Hungry for black skin
And black blood.
Hands digging into earth
For retaliation,
For blood they said,
But everyone else said,
The rock that flew
Was in hands white as light
As bright as the day was
They say.
If the rocks they said that,
Spurned uniformed egos,
Flew from ground,
To air,
To gunned men like they said,
Does it justify the dead?
Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 6:07 PM UTC
I once saw threw the stars pools of serendipitous thoughts.
Melding feelings over-constructively by manifesting stains.
It's too wet,
Leaking unimportance. They aren't colored enough; silly to forget the dyes.
Standing too long, there's a need to stretch.
Stretch back lights, free twinkling corosions away.
I was looking too hard.
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 10:35 PM UTC
*"some cry with tears,
others with thoughts"*
sun-way heat beats against
quiet bodies.
my truth left two souls
melding with a splash of
purple—
the mimicry of my cry
surging with
impending ocean.
you who I truly know
last kissed June 7th
in eternal sunshine—go
to beach
and be free.
I’ll wait for you in
the meantime.
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 12:11 PM UTC
How I long to be
The sweater gripping your skin
A complimentary ocean blue
Harmonizing your swimming eyes
Hugging tightly to
Your sleepy bones
Sinking you when you leave shore
How I long to be your jeans
Clinging softly to you
Melding to your wet skin
A blue cotton night sky
Enveloping you
In the heat
Of my embrace
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 2:05 PM UTC