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"mellifluous" poems
The billowing sea bows down dancing, the cool one comes— with love, as if with a flute on the lips, rising from the deep. Listen to the flute. Chorus clouds sing, drifting down the blue river— so mellifluous, into the sky they soar! From the secret valley, the punter sun ambles in, carrying wonderlight, as if it knows the flutist’s art— knows the rise from the sea’s bedrock. Every planet spins— a flying bee drawn to the inner music. Nothing pauses in the solar ring. The Moon, waning and waxing, in silhouette and half-light, sways above the sea full of life. It all began on this Earth, from our sea— Him, the Sweet Creative Maestro rose from the midst, and lifted the sun, the bumblebee. All the stars in the galaxy follow still— they can't forget the ancient story. Since then, the sun, brightest in the band, leads the mindful dance enduring, homeward— still following the haunting, eternal tune, pure mighty the one command: Qun. Be.
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Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC
Music in Space
so it is, so it be. life granted me a boon, come to me, the honey. not the merest of coating, but a power enrichened, capable of driving out the slow acting, daily killing, poisonous venom. makeover, coverup of tears of ancient marriage-madness, black swan hate disguise, her lies, venom injection of coffee blood staining love pretense, now just scar tracks  for a new boulevard. the slow pour,  the golden russian amber intertwined tones, tongue tasted, inside me now, revealed in slow exiting, beauteous, mellifluous tears. you dance with the stars, I watch you watching, clueless that my thee-flavored tears, dance and pour down my face. destitute, nearer my God than thee, god blessed this child's life, love gifted from sweet bees, late in life, flew from my computer screen and sonnet-stung me with antidotes of love n' honey...
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Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 3:39 PM UTC
amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus - love is rich, with both honey and venom (July 2013)
*Music is my only refuge Expresses the soul of Nature The mellifluous journey between notes Lingers in my heart, the silken veil Drives away the melancholy, music cradles Soul to Soul, I sing away Nature’s notes*
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Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 8:56 AM UTC
Music
*She's like deliquescent caramel, the cool side of a pillow         to lay your weary head, subtleties of springtime &      warmth in wintertide, whispering hope upon lush           Zephyrus pipe dreams,   mellifluous nymph with wings                  of a butterfly warrior, softly determined,     unfailingly true-hearted,      whilst relentlessly ferocious   Wise, yet sometimes struts        blindly in the light,      as dulcet tones of a cello's         melodious marmalade          in sentiment's tender fancy, she's beauty, charm,          knowledge, poetry,                utter strength,                & humane weaknesses, she's twisted and ethereal,            her aura sublimely captivating      you may covet her body,             you'll never possess her soul*
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Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 9:32 AM UTC
She's like deliquescent caramel
Sopor fuels the pen Darkness devours the sun As she carves the page With beautiful words *Ethereal, Opulent Sonder, syzygy* *Vellichor, Gambol Efflorescence, Effluence* Words without meaning Lurk in the shadows And hovels of ambition Creep onto the page But the mind embraced In a blanket of obscurity Cannot find their worth *Her Mellifluous song Ensorcelled her lover Bliss in limerence* How can the stagnant Heart waltz with stars, write of love, Beat in unison? How can the lifeless Soul connect with humanity? My words are worthless
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Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 7:05 PM UTC
Her Words are Worthless
Overhead the stars glimmered and the moon rested and all I could feel was a soft embrace, carrying me in tune with the wind. There was nothing left to lose, except life itself. I felt the heavy weights glide off of my shoulders and onto the pale green meadow beside me. A sweet mellifluous hymn sounded in the near distance, in tune with the Sun's descend toward Earth's core. Leaves rustle, the water ripples, so much movement around me, but I lay still. The tranquility is intoxicating, I don't wish to leave. This is my grand finale, yet somehow I find the exit signs exhausting to follow. I wished I could listen once more to the sound "I love you" makes but it's been years since I've heard it. It's been years since I felt anything but numb. All this time my mind has kept me isolated and trapped-- unable to find a solace. I couldn't make a home out of a person because I did that once and I was never able to recover what I lost from myself inside of him. This peaceful meadow is my one true love, nature being the ultimate constant in my life. It is, has, always will be around. Trust the whispering trees and dance to the swan's song. This is the chorus of my life, this is the final chapter of my book, I am free, I am free, I am free.
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Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 9:09 PM UTC
Swan Song
Music Passion, wistful Devouring, seizing, engulfing Mellifluous voice of the soul Fluid
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Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 7:05 AM UTC
Music Cinquain
Your voice scares me It's as deep and sudden as thunder Yet when you speak It's like a mellifluous melody that I can't quite place I don't know why our eyes always seem to meet Am I looking for you, or are you looking for me? Just why do you appear in all my nightmares? With a smile you always change the scene into a dream When I think I've finally managed to tear you away Your eyes stand guard in my mind As if daring me to ignore you Daring me to ignore the pounding in my heart It's always been your eyes They haven't left me since the moment they met mine The first time you said my name sent shivers down my spine I was surprised you knew it since we barely spoke We were always like that Just a sentence or two ever so often That didn't stop me from wondering what you were really like Behind your cold brooding exterior that made everyone afraid Everyone but me, I knew you were just misunderstood I'm sure deep down you are just as scared You put up the front to keep away the vulnerability But behind your tall walls you shelter all your insecurity Allow me to be the first to peer past I'll let you into my mind if you let me into yours
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Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 7:30 PM UTC
Infatuation
And she fell and fell down the hole..Hit the bottom and remained there Darkness and depression surrounded her She was too weak to move or speak And so weeks turned into month turned into years One day she opened her eyes and a slice of bread lay in her lap Hesitant at first she nibbled it The next day there were two slices and she ate them Time passed until she felt strong enough stand up Determined she climbed up the hole again Above the ground she was flashed by the sudden brightness The cerulean blue sky The soft breeze The birds singing mellifluous songs The sweet scent of honeysuckle…. She was not used to it But she found bliss in all these things Years passed but one day She returned to the entrance of the hole with a wheelbarrow of soil And filled it up until it was no longer So that nobody could ever go there
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Mar 25, 2023
Mar 25, 2023 at 5:09 AM UTC
Maybe
Crescent orb radiates its crystalline sight, languid lips coalesce like a tessellation, the vexing vines wilder the incandescent- glimmer but the burning impression remains. Celestial bodies affixes a soliloquy amongst- a halcyon tongue that revelate a rhapsodic- episode. Quiescent ambience rings a plethora of- sentiments stinging on the mellifluous lullaby. The lithe wildflower murmurs- the euphonious recital of a sonnet that- is unacquainted to the mind. Luminous assemblies of fireflies retire- behind the myriad of evergreen forest as the insouciance wildflower approach. Precocious primrose locked from the scorching sensation of a wildflower exhibited a lassitude facade like a - waning lantern fiery on its final residues. In the distant a wildflower and in the presence, an idyllic primrose: so scarce and so strange.
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Apr 27, 2017
Apr 27, 2017 at 7:37 AM UTC
Exuberance Aflamed
The mellifluous tones of his voice Put my heart at ease Lulled by the sound he makes, I get lost in reverie Is it the tenderness in his voice? Or perhaps the words he utter? Or his cloying expression? I am not so sure Whatever it may be, My heart always sings with glee Then I begin to cry And express my deepest sentiment How strange yet astonishing it is, To feel everything at once Just by hearing the sweet sound Of the voice that enraptures me
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May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 3:00 PM UTC
His Voice
*The blue song bird mellifluous singer admired for her songs that melt even hearts of rock, riding the crust of the adoring wind, swoop,             down,                     down,                               down without a thought suddenly alights, heroically tries to sit, on a high tension power line; yet another of her impromptu acts like before, she labors to convince everyone in a shrill chirping sound that dangerously she lives taking life in her own hands. East wind, her companion tells she is mistaken; he tries to push her away from the lethal wire on which death awaits with its dark hum "young and wayward bird you tell me you learn so quickly from your mistakes, alright from now and the moment next lies an unknown chasm in a jiffy if you decide to fathom it no time is left for unlearning what it teaches and reverse your journey to the winter land  of darkness from where no migratory bird has ever come back" The bird so deaf to wind's words, still hovers above the wire the wind in warning hums a sad tune aloud.*
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Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 11:18 AM UTC
The blind bird moment on the verge of the chasm
Then the arch painter, up in the blue yonder, stirs the sea of colours, and posing in style, infuses the magic with tangerine daylight. Then I don't know if you were walking by a brook or a river, you would tune in, perhaps like the sweet singer, Hebrew King David, the water nymph hums a melody. Then the narrative resonates, it never just goes away like the wind. Birds chirp and sing in the groves and on every street. Then I was watching the BBC on a black and white screen, the beloved monarch had passed away, and Britain was mourning. Then she appeared once in a stolen exhibition by my poetry in motion and jolly happy she was admiring now she's gone I just dreamed. Then amidst the melancholy, I heard twittering birds chirping, missing the mellifluous melodies, so awesomely sweet, alas, Queen Elizabeth wasn't there to speak her English!
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Sep 11, 2022
Sep 11, 2022 at 9:06 PM UTC
Queen Elizabeth's English Speaking
Fought One, Twenty-two skidoo. Cantankerous mad filamous She, That of her, Me. Piñata, stretched balloon Over my big fleshy ****** Tea and cakes, Painted my nails Painted my lips Like candy. Gold trinkets, Pour like mercury out of my ear. Ouch! I cried My feet in hot sandy Dreams. Flying peacocks tickle My ***** Oranges roll on chalk board tables Over stale rye bread. ***** dribbles out like mucus And a runny nose. Toilet paper and rusty water. ********** on you. Stocking lover. Fetish cover. Woman pusher. Mellifluous **** Look at my skin. Pink, beige, peach, red Porous, greasy, bacteria ridden hide. **** me like seppuku, Smother, suffocate me with Red jelly jam. Lubricate your finger with black Cancerous ash. Stick it in my naval, Unravel my umbilical cord Like so many filaments of my heart. Tear your flesh You auto ********* Rip your liver And force feed it Corn and maize Hay and grass Emory my nails against Red barn walls Until bare skin fundamentals Kisses with salty lips Inflame my ravishing Pig stomach. Kick my shin you Everything, Wake up you stupid ***** Void can be blue skies, Oceans call for suicide. Kiss me with delight, Raspberries tattooed In my ***** Strawberry cream Vanilla, milk, Ponderous infinity, Cotton, dough Honey and sage. Caustic gastric You and not me. Feel my legs, Touch my thighs, Lick my lips, Give me anything Not direct. Tie me up in complexities. **** my head up. Put me in a dream, Make me happy. Blair Butterfield 2004
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Jan 11, 2010
Jan 11, 2010 at 7:09 AM UTC
Rancour
Aquiver mellifluous ineffable hiraeth nefarious somnambulist epoch sonorous serendipitous limerence bombinate luminescence ethereal illicit petrichor iridescent supine aurora solitude syzygy phosphenes oblivion ephemeral incandescence denouement vellichor eloquence defenestration Sondra effervescence cromulent cellar-door debridement Illustrator icon verdant cerulean aeneous albicant amaranthine azuline argent chartreuse damask ferruginous haematic hyacinthine ibis ochre primrose russet sanguineous virescent mystborn transcendence
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Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 10:31 AM UTC
Beautiful Wordbank
* ~for Bill T. Jones~ two poets, laureates both, on the nature of hunger, they discourse, in temple, where sacrificing is to living arts I was there, hungry in every aspect, seeking wisdom of the hungering nature of human. examine the word, hunger, hardly a rolling off the tongue mellifluous. you growl it from the gut, in gowned resplendent ugliness, go ahead, try it, it’s coarse and powerful insistent. awoken empty but for the hunger, hungover from dancing words and imagery not mine, now mine, maddeningly demanding my dutiful attentions, as if hunger was the master, me, obedient pupil. the clean white slate the IPad re-presents repeatedly, insulted that I have yet to crayon color it with the coherence of hunger-exhaled words, dismissive that I am but an also-ran, my village of lexical too unsophisticated, the page addressed yet unplanned, Apple white is the color of the starving artist.
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May 26, 2019
May 26, 2019 at 1:44 PM UTC
the hunger for hunger/white the color of starvation
Hiraeth calls me it is painful and sometimes ineffable I could not word it longing, longing, longing your name, you know is mellifluous But hiraeth calls me I'm in limerence with the thought of you Maybe that is why I can not stand it everytime you look at me and speak this feeling is illicit I want you And hiraeth calls me I'm feeling homesick home, home, home to you, you know I can not return you were never mine.
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Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 3:32 PM UTC
Hiraeth
At the start of the day, I met a boy I didn't know why, but I suddenly felt joy He looked at me in the eye and warmly said hello Not knowing that in the end, I would have to let him go That afternoon, we agreed to stop by a cafe Happily chatting nonstop, while time was slipping away With the mellifluous music in the background, we filled the shop with our laughs Then an epiphany occurred, I realized that I have to keep this memory by taking a few photographs At nightfall, we exchanged numbers and decided to part ways As he went to the opposite direction by walking backwards with his hands swaying as a sign of goodbye, I gazed At that moment as I deeply stared into his eyes, I felt happiness- it was ineffable and little did I know, it was just ephemeral too Because then I knew, my love is never going to come into his view
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Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 10:23 PM UTC
One-sided Love
It was an ephemeral moment As stars swam gently above the still dark ocean the night kisses the water in everlasting ripples in mellifluous voices of whisper & echoes It was an ephemeral moment As the beautiful aurora ruled over time She wore silks of scarlet, red & blue linen that painted across the mountains & skies It was an ephemeral moment where shadows dance around the crackled bonfire as natives tell of legends untold within the midnight of dark and cold It still is an ephemeral moment if you believe them to be the world is made just of defining moments scraps and shattered reflections of you and me
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Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 4:12 AM UTC
Ephemeral
A short and an earlier popular poem of mine. Hope you like it! Thanks, - Raj, New Delhi.        THE SURF-RIDER ! See him riding gallantly the crest of waves, With dexterity and poise and flowing grace! He rises to descend, to rise once more, As the waves keep rolling towards the shore! Like those surfs the Rider continues his mellifluous dance , Be it in England, in Spain or in France; Riding high on waves as if in a trance! The wind churns up the waves as it rises and swells, As the Rider manoeuvers his wake-board riding those crests before it breaks ! Like a gymnast he executes strong cutbacks - to reverse his turn, His spirit dominate as the waves rise and churn! He did take his time to perfect his art , Having loved the sea  and the surf from the very start! He learnt to live in moments just like those dancing waves, Floating on their crests as his blood within raves! Those surfs like musical notes rise up and fall, Where some surfs are short and others tall ! Like a philharmonic conductor par-excellence, He commands those waves with his skilful presence! Friends, riding on Time’s moments is no mean art, But like the Surf-rider one must make a gallant start !                                           -Raj Nandy, New Delhi
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May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 11:22 AM UTC
THE SURF RIDER!
An amorphous cave hides behind a cascading flow of crystalline blue, sparkling and shining like radiant glass. Inside the incandescent cave, an effervescent and ephemeral scent of dulcet cinnamon coalesces into the air of the inside of this seemingly halcyon cave. The feelings, the emotions, the sights, all too inexorable in it's ineffable reality. It calls out, with it's mellifluous and beautiful, languid and sirenic voice, incandescent with epiphany, "Come child of man, meet me, greet me, welcome me, me as the idyllic felicity some dare to even dream of, and then let me embrace you and enrapture you and encompass you in my incorporeal and frozen, evanescent tranquility." This ephemeral and serene cave now even murmurs and sings a tranquil symphony suffused with rhapsodic zeniths. It... It truly was ephemeral... A horrible shriek, a shrill and a repulsive and repugnant and rancid smell. A decrepit cacophony of hollow, anguished wailing and screaming. Pain at my soul, and a harsh, hoarse and coarse voice filled with slaughter and cataclysm. A grotesque, hirsute maladroit leech, visceral and shunned from everything and everyone, even the Earth itself...
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Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
The Ephemeral-Epiphany Cave Of Traps
She was nyctophilia; In the darkness, The moon and stars was her Nakama; She could hear the stars whispering, And the moon comforting her. As she licked her wounds and drowns in her own sobs. In the darkness, Her room becomes her hermetic fantasy world; One where her cries sound mellifluous, One where her wounds look ethereal Her pain was considered tacenda, But in that little Universe, she built, She was rebirth – with each heartbreak. She is a philocalist - a Lunar Pisces
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May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 8:36 AM UTC
Lunar Pisces
First kiss. O dulcet, glorious, first kiss! Undeniable, absolute and sweet. Honeyed naivety. Breathtaking bliss. Nigh naught in life can possibly compete. Your kiss. O mellifluous, first true kiss! Delicate symphony of pure passion. My heart surrenders; it cannot resist The sounds of soft, diaphanous satin. Our kiss. O inimitable first kiss! Melody of sweet spontaneity. Intoxicating and velvet abyss. True desire; nay mere velleity. Heavenly pleasure ‘tis the first, sweet kiss Heart and mind will forever reminisce.
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Nov 22, 2010
Nov 22, 2010 at 5:57 PM UTC
O FIRST KISS!
His adorable curiosity Heartfelt sincerity Rare honesty His heart's purity Bring them back to me... His comforting words The kind I've never heard Seductive and mellifluous voice His contentment,with me as his choice Bring them back to me... His arousing fantasies Romantic gestures Perfect heartache remedies Keeping me safe with a mysterious vesture Bring them back to me... The warmth of his skin Soft whispers in my ears Infectious wide grin His undying trust, gathering my tears Bring them back to me... I'm not ready for another chapter It's miserably unbearable I know YOU are there, so please answer My prayer for a miracle...
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Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 10:56 PM UTC
Praying for a Miracle