Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Brenten Hargrove Feb 2012
let everything thing you say sound unpredictable
that it is  hard to believe
and no one will ever decipher those
incomprehensable
tools of mortality


i pull out my bones to dig a new grave
In the side of the road where we used to play
Where the grass was pulled up but the roots they never gave

The scent of their blood on the air is here always
a delicate dust lies just beneath
accept that
and with  the casket leave the flashback
i want to be set free
no one can tell me
i want to be set free!

and if you've forgotten
i know you can forget your first love
forget that surprise the way you feel at sunrise
but in those eyes i cant let go

inability to focus on change
the trauma is set
trying to pledge a heart to a fugacious stone
trying to force a hand into an ephermal sound
no one wants to fade away

ive tried to capture a true change ive tried to manage pieces
obscure paths and bold statements traverse through centuries
confied in  whimsical plague
Your contagious inure
I want to bring about in you a melliflous love

Burst  forth in lands luminescent and redolent

I will give you unto the shooting stars and wasted spaces
Something that will always leave you faced with
the inability to fade away
one of opulent Petrichor
that dissolves with the clouds
aarti dhillon Apr 2015
To the point where it starts or is it to the point where it ends
A sinful but childish memory  that knows its way to the back terminus
The coda of a moment with the certainity of a melliflous flow
What makes it deep and so ween is the never ending uncertainity
Uncertainity , whether its to the point where it starts , where it ends or is it just simply to the....!!!
Kimberly Aug 2018
Chiliad years Logaphiles were written for us in many Eurythmic Forms to help comprehend ones Alexithymic;

The Orphic Lyrics of
Luftmensh Scops,

The Evanescence of Classical
Pieces of Merak Musicians,

The Timeless Dotish
Word in an Aubade,

The Aeipathy behind a
Bindlestill Writing Effable
Lines to an Auralize
Of an Epoch Poem,

The Sillage of
Camhanich in the
Lyrics of a Trouvaille Song,

Many Vagary were
written under the
Angelic Moon Phase
with Mid-Summer
Nites Dwaat Melliflous
of the Lite Breeze
through the Trees
Conorous: Melodies
Miridical: Wondrous
Chiliad: Thousand years
Logaphile: Lover of words
Eurythmic: In Harmonious proportion
Alexithymic: Difficulty in expressing emotional responses
Orphic: Entrancing beyond ordinary understanding
Luftmensh: With their heads in the clouds
Scop: An Old English Poet
Evanescent: Vanishing away
Merak: Creativity put in yourself into your work
Dotish: Silly
Aubade: A love song sung at dawn
Aeipathy: Enduring passion
Bindlestill: A *****
Effable: Able to be described in words
Auralize: Like 'Visualizing' but with sound
Epoch: A particular period of time in history or persons life
Sillage: A lingering scent of someones perfume
Camhanaich: Early morning Twilight
Troavaille: Something lovely discovered by chance
Vagary: Unusual desire
Dwaal: A dreamy, dazed, or absent minded state
Melliflous: A sound that is sweet and smooth; pleasing to hear
Yule Feb 2017
You are my muse
the pigment in my hues
You bring me meaning
but sometimes the heart
can be deceiving

I'm risking myself from falling
but the more I resist
The further that I fall

The way your eyes shine
and the radiance in your smile
sends shivers down my spine

Your voice so melliflous
your laugh so vigorous
But I promise you darling
it's not just your skin
it's not the only reason
there's more about you
so much more
that I adore

Your flaws
your insecurities
seems to pass me by
I love you

I love your everything
Everything about you seems fitting
And this is what I am feeling
You're my everything

I cannot deny it any longer
Is it safe to say?

You've been haunting me
day by day
in my thoughts
and in my heart
you stayed
Accepting that I love you
was all I had to admit...

{nj.b}
Dr Peter Lim Mar 2019
Such a lovely instrument
the melliflous man-dolin
but played not only by any man
by woman too who prefers to call it 'wo-mandolin'!

— The End —