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"melodiously" poems
Who is she? I do not know. Inhuman. She tangles my mind like no other. One look, she glances over your soul   With her pale hues and feline eyes, I  have been baffled with her tight grasp. Celestial. Confusing. Crafty. Cold. That she is, She has casted a spell on me, That can only be broken by her. Who is she? Puzzled. I have been, A witch? Could it be? Her voice is melodiously venomous, I have been mesmerized, She has clung to my soul. A distinguished walk, The childlike enthusiasm, An enigmatic character, Her signals are vague, She is full of anonymity. Marked with beauty, a mask hides her personality The possessor of the key to my heart, She is a mystery.
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Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 2:48 PM UTC
Witch?
The line didn't move, though there were not many people in it. In a half-hearted light the lone agent dealt patiently, noiselessly, endlessly with a large dazed family ranging from twin toddlers in strollers to an old lady in a bent wheelchair. Their baggage was all in cardboard boxes. The plane was delayed, the rumor went through the line. We shrugged, in our hopeless overcoats. Aviation had never seemed a very natural idea. Bored children floated with faces drained of blood. The girls in the tax-free shops stood frozen amid promises of a beautiful life abroad. Louis Armstrong sang in some upper corner, a trickle of ignored joy. Outside, in an unintelligible darkness that stretched to include the rubies of strip malls, winged behemoths prowled looking for the gates where they could bury their koala-bear noses and **** our dimming dynamos dry. Boys in floppy sweatshirts and backward hats slapped their feet ostentatiously while security attendants giggled and the voice of a misplaced angel melodiously parroted FAA regulations. Women in saris and kimonos dragged, as their penance, behind them toddlers clutching Occidental teddy bears, and chair legs screeched in the food court while ill-paid wraiths mopped circles of night into the motionless floor.
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10.3k
Flight to Limbo
I remember Vividly those serene eyes, Shining bright, Emotion in them Sparks my blood to rise Thy teary eyes divine, Speak with love and tenderness, Eyes, a million stars in them The picture of innocence. Eyes seeking me - Glowing, Like that first dew, On the new viridescent blade of grass. Your eyes my matinal star Your eyes my middays sunshines, Your eyes my vespers twilight, Your eyes an oceanic depth, Your eyes my autumnal hues, Your eyes wild jasmines Fragrant at nights, Like that sunflower Gazing the afternoon sun. Let the peacocks vauntingly dance, Let the nightingales melodiously sing, Let the flora and fauna flourish, Like spring in prosperity, In felicitation, Let me always See Through Your Eyes
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Dec 9, 2011
Dec 9, 2011 at 3:28 PM UTC
Your Eye's
find a lover who writes you sonnets who uses the darkest flecks of your eyes as ink and the shades of your skin as paper writing along the edges of your wrists and arms with tongue and teeth with purpose, truth, and love find a lover whose heart sings to yours a pianissimo summer sonata, dolce using their words sotto voce against your ear melodiously humming against your body with their lips pressed to your neck with passion, fire and tenderness find a lover who creates art using line weight in colloquy and canvas alike to paint you with diamonds, as they see you watch them carve your essence with rainbows and pearls with intensity, feeling, and beauty find a lover who gives to you who presents all the joys of life unselfishly and without expectation and when they give freely and openly ensure that you, too, become a lover who writes, sings, creates, and returns
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Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 10:37 AM UTC
Uncover
Like spools of thread, pilled in the midst Darkness draws attention to the danger Up few miles, is that place Where the sign reads, welcome stranger Curiosity jumps on each step As the enchanting forest gets deeper The sun rays sparkle the early dews And awakens the sleeping keeper Birds chattering, singing melodiously Giant rocks, stand as guards of century Silent kills the morning songs At the dark weaved, heavy grown entry Myth say, it may be a portal to another world But reports and researchers find it their own way What's there to be afraid of Besides an approaching thunder day A torch in hand, walking cautiously Humming sound follows through, alerting my ears Tripping, few times on dead branches Triggers my lost unwanted fears It's almost past mid day, but not a single string of light The passage seems like a hell deep Strange scribbles on near stones, alert "Do not fall asleep" Hours of walking on turns and paths Tiredness and hunger grasped in well Don't fall asleep rings in my ears I was not alone, I could easily tell Within this labyrinth, mysteries lie of all kinds An evil crackling laugh, shakes my fears Looking in the direction of the sound There is an "it" and it hears Run out now, my gut feelings kick in Hoping for sun rays, but thunder beats the sky Peculiar heavy steps seems to follow I wish, I could just fly One exit, echoes another entry A swirl labyrinth has woken today Running in circles, lost my routes I can't find my right way A small spark of light in a corner Disguised as the suns ray Traps my vision to walk forward Like a poised lucidest prey What happened next, I do not know But not alone now, as more walk my way Finding their own possible routes We have become abundantly stray... ©sim
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Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 8:12 PM UTC
Swirl Labyrinth
Like spools of thread, pilled in the midst Darkness draws attention to the danger Up few miles, is that place Where the sign reads, welcome stranger Curiosity jumps on each step As the enchanting forest gets deeper The sun rays sparkle the early dews And awakens the sleeping keeper Birds chattering, singing melodiously Giant rocks, stand as guards of century Silent kills the morning songs At the dark weaved, heavy grown entry Myth say, it may be a portal to another world But reports and researchers find it their own way What's there to be afraid of Besides an approaching thunder day A torch in hand, walking cautiously Humming sound follows through, alerting my ears Tripping, few times on dead branches Triggers my lost unwanted fears It's almost past mid day, but not a single string of light The passage seems like a hell deep Strange scribbles on near stones, alert "Do not fall asleep" Hours of walking on turns and paths Tiredness and hunger grasped in well Don't fall asleep rings in my ears I was not alone, I could easily tell Within this labyrinth, mysteries lie of all kinds An evil crackling laugh, shakes my fears Looking in the direction of the sound There is an "it" and it hears Run out now, my gut feelings kick in Hoping for sun rays, but thunder beats the sky Peculiar heavy steps seems to follow I wish, I could just fly One exit, echoes another entry A swirl labyrinth has woken today Running in circles, lost my routes I can't find my right way A small spark of light in a corner Disguised as the suns ray Traps my vision to walk forward Like a poised lucidest prey What happened next, I do not know But not alone now, as more walk my way Finding their own possible routes We have become abundantly stray... ©sim
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My soul is an enchanted boat, Which, like a sleeping swan, doth float Upon the silver waves of thy sweet singing; And thine doth like an angel sit Beside a helm conducting it, Whilst all the winds with melody are ringing. It seems to float ever, for ever, Upon that many-winding river, Between mountains, woods, abysses, A paradise of wildernesses! Till, like one in slumber bound, Borne to the ocean, I float down, around, Into a sea profound, of ever-spreading sound: Meanwhile thy spirit lifts its pinions In music’s most serene dominions; Catching the winds that fan that happy heaven. And we sail on, away, afar, Without a course, without a star, But, by the instinct of sweet music driven; Till through Elysian garden islets By thee, most beautiful of pilots, Where never mortal pinnace glided, The boat of my desire is guided: Realms where the air we breathe is love, Which in the winds and on the waves doth move, Harmonizing this earth with what we feel above. We have past Age’s icy caves, And Manhood’s dark and tossing waves, And Youth’s smooth ocean, smiling to betray: Beyond the glassy gulfs we flee Of shadow-peopled Infancy, Through Death and Birth, to a diviner day; A paradise of vaulted bowers, Lit by downward-gazing flowers, And watery paths that wind between Wildernesses calm and green, Peopled by shapes too bright to see, And rest, having beheld; somewhat like thee; Which walk upon the sea, and chant melodiously!
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2.5k
Asia: From Prometheus Unbound
IN THE POOL OF THE LOST MAIDEN SONG                 1 Down in the shrouded wood a wanderer walks And dreams the dreamers story he has lived. Sidled by the stream that sheds blue waters By the beds, trailing the rail of loves unknown Kiss and a voice that conjures truest bliss, Down in the drink where sweet Ophelia sleeps; In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the dreamer, he is dreaming . . . Hair, that ropes the stoic man upon his mount. Hair, making souls’ lost ending breath a shout, And hair that weighs the wind, teaches it to sing; Hair, wending whirlpools waving fools to dive in.                 2 Lost at land’s end the sea lions, washed-up, wail And buzzards coast where eagles flail, rip tides Assail and chop the collected bones they drop; It is a chalky bone-yard break, golden escarpments Wake and a seamen’s salty sermons shake; Where gathering ghosts glom and chide steeping, In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the seeker, he is seeking . . . Eyes that turn the sands and are mirrors, Eyes that taught the books of Alexandria, Eyes that shook the flesh and are seers, Eyes that lit the pyres, burned true believers.                 3 Deep in the dark wood the waters rush, hush, Cramp, crew and creep, melodiously tread, Trammel, and burn as furies in keeping true The melting moon, the onerous owl, fluttering Things, muttering wings, cones in darkness Flings and filmy time flicks by the wayside; In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the lover, he is longing . . . Love, lithe and lyric, he sees your sweeping shapes. Peace, parsed and pained he hears the voicing gape. Blind, bliss’d and shamed he wears the votive drapes. Hungered, thirsted and gone; seeks your pearly gate.                 4 Out in the forest maze the jarring sun seeps And swirls, only to roust the traveler onward Where soon he must meet the faces in the grotto Down in destroyed lands by the seas’ unreasoning Chime, deep in the dark whine of the shining mermaids, Where the doomed cry, round the navel of the world, In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the doomed, they are crying . . . ****** beauty bade us, in a star crossed chrysalis, Made us, choose a desert’s winter of loneliness. Heed our fate and leave this valley torn of bliss; The many millions of locust fall in ripest fields.”
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Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 1:26 PM UTC
In the Pool of the Lost Maiden Song
IN THE POOL OF THE LOST MAIDEN SONG                 1 Down in the shrouded wood a wanderer walks And dreams the dreamers story he has lived. Sidled by the stream that sheds blue waters By the beds, trailing the rail of loves unknown Kiss and a voice that conjures truest bliss, Down in the drink where sweet Ophelia sleeps; In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the dreamer, he is dreaming . . . Hair, that ropes the stoic man upon his mount. Hair, making souls’ lost ending breath a shout, And hair that weighs the wind, teaches it to sing; Hair, wending whirlpools waving fools to dive in.                 2 Lost at land’s end the sea lions, washed-up, wail And buzzards coast where eagles flail, rip tides Assail and chop the collected bones they drop; It is a chalky bone-yard break, golden escarpments Wake and a seamen’s salty sermons shake; Where gathering ghosts glom and chide steeping, In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the seeker, he is seeking . . . Eyes that turn the sands and are mirrors, Eyes that taught the books of Alexandria, Eyes that shook the flesh and are seers, Eyes that lit the pyres, burned true believers.                 3 Deep in the dark wood the waters rush, hush, Cramp, crew and creep, melodiously tread, Trammel, and burn as furies in keeping true The melting moon, the onerous owl, fluttering Things, muttering wings, cones in darkness Flings and filmy time flicks by the wayside; In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the lover, he is longing . . . Love, lithe and lyric, he sees your sweeping shapes. Peace, parsed and pained he hears the voicing gape. Blind, bliss’d and shamed he wears the votive drapes. Hungered, thirsted and gone; seeks your pearly gate.                 4 Out in the forest maze the jarring sun seeps And swirls, only to roust the traveler onward Where soon he must meet the faces in the grotto Down in destroyed lands by the seas’ unreasoning Chime, deep in the dark whine of the shining mermaids, Where the doomed cry, round the navel of the world, In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the doomed, they are crying . . . ****** beauty bade us, in a star crossed chrysalis, Made us, choose a desert’s winter of loneliness. Heed our fate and leave this valley torn of bliss; The many millions of locust fall in ripest fields.”
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53
Fragmented pieces of scarlet memories, trees of stout arms reaching.... affection the fruit it carries, Mauvey plumes sprout this golden harvest of my imagination. I'm drawn to taste commitment's nectar Hear now the sitars melody, notes in Arial Black on Milky White, I climbed the apple tree in this garden of light, The colorful wind melodiously blowing a heretic hero's demise, Though shaken my grasp prevailed the prize. Alas through and through my vantage point reveals a view, The floating dislocated memories on a river of silky love, That rise and brush the teardrops from my cheeks, Then spirit away like frightened doves.
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Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 1:04 PM UTC
My dislocated memory
IN THE POOL OF THE LOST MAIDEN SONG                 1 Down in the shrouded wood a wanderer walks And dreams the dreamers story he has lived. Sidled by the stream that sheds blue waters By the beds, trailing the rail of loves unknown Kiss and a voice that conjures truest bliss, Down in the drink where sweet Ophelia sleeps; In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the dreamer, he is dreaming . . . Hair, that ropes the stoic man upon his mount. Hair, making souls’ lost ending breath a shout, And hair that weighs the wind, teaches it to sing; Hair, wending whirlpools waving fools to dive in.                 2 Lost at land’s end the sea lions, washed-up, wail And buzzards coast where eagles flail, rip tides Assail and chop the collected bones they drop; It is a chalky bone-yard break, golden escarpments Wake and a seamen’s salty sermons shake; Where gathering ghosts glom and chide steeping, In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the seeker, he is seeking . . . Eyes that turn the sands and are mirrors, Eyes that taught the books of Alexandria, Eyes that shook the flesh and are seers, Eyes that lit the pyres, burned true believers.                 3 Deep in the dark wood the waters rush, hush, Cramp, crew and creep, melodiously tread, Trammel, and burn as furies in keeping true The melting moon, the onerous owl, fluttering Things, muttering wings, cones in darkness Flings and filmy time flicks by the wayside; In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the lover, he is longing . . . Love, lithe and lyric, he sees your sweeping shapes. Peace, parsed and pained he hears the voicing gape. Blind, bliss’d and shamed he wears the votive drapes. Hungered, thirsted and gone; seeks your pearly gate.                 4 Out in the forest maze the jarring sun seeps And swirls, only to roust the traveler onward Where soon he must meet the faces in the grotto Down in destroyed lands by the seas’ unreasoning Chime, deep in the dark whine of the shining mermaids, Where the doomed cry, round the navel of the world, In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the doomed, they are crying . . . ****** beauty bade us, in a star crossed chrysalis, Made us, choose a desert’s winter of loneliness. Heed our fate and leave this valley torn of bliss; The many millions of locust fall in ripest fields.”
0
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 1:57 PM UTC
In the Pool of the Lost Maiden Song
IN THE POOL OF THE LOST MAIDEN SONG                 1 Down in the shrouded wood a wanderer walks And dreams the dreamers story he has lived. Sidled by the stream that sheds blue waters By the beds, trailing the rail of loves unknown Kiss and a voice that conjures truest bliss, Down in the drink where sweet Ophelia sleeps; In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the dreamer, he is dreaming . . . Hair, that ropes the stoic man upon his mount. Hair, making souls’ lost ending breath a shout, And hair that weighs the wind, teaches it to sing; Hair, wending whirlpools waving fools to dive in.                 2 Lost at land’s end the sea lions, washed-up, wail And buzzards coast where eagles flail, rip tides Assail and chop the collected bones they drop; It is a chalky bone-yard break, golden escarpments Wake and a seamen’s salty sermons shake; Where gathering ghosts glom and chide steeping, In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the seeker, he is seeking . . . Eyes that turn the sands and are mirrors, Eyes that taught the books of Alexandria, Eyes that shook the flesh and are seers, Eyes that lit the pyres, burned true believers.                 3 Deep in the dark wood the waters rush, hush, Cramp, crew and creep, melodiously tread, Trammel, and burn as furies in keeping true The melting moon, the onerous owl, fluttering Things, muttering wings, cones in darkness Flings and filmy time flicks by the wayside; In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the lover, he is longing . . . Love, lithe and lyric, he sees your sweeping shapes. Peace, parsed and pained he hears the voicing gape. Blind, bliss’d and shamed he wears the votive drapes. Hungered, thirsted and gone; seeks your pearly gate.                 4 Out in the forest maze the jarring sun seeps And swirls, only to roust the traveler onward Where soon he must meet the faces in the grotto Down in destroyed lands by the seas’ unreasoning Chime, deep in the dark whine of the shining mermaids, Where the doomed cry, round the navel of the world, In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the doomed, they are crying . . . ****** beauty bade us, in a star crossed chrysalis, Made us, choose a desert’s winter of loneliness. Heed our fate and leave this valley torn of bliss; The many millions of locust fall in ripest fields.”
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53
( a vision dream )       1 Down in the shrouded wood a wanderer walks And dreams the dreamers story he has lived. Sidled by the stream that sheds blue waters By the beds, trailing the rail of loves unknown Kiss and a voice that conjures truest bliss, Down in the drink where sweet Ophelia sleeps; In the pool of the lost maiden song. *And the dreamer, he is dreaming . . . Hair, that ropes the stoic man upon his mount. Hair, making souls’ lost ending breath a shout, And hair that weighs the wind, teaches it to sing; Hair, wending whirlpools waving fools to dive in.*       2 Lost at land’s end the sea lions, washed-up, wail And buzzards coast where eagles flail, rip tides Assail and chop the collected bones they drop; It is a chalky bone-yard break, golden escarpments Wake and a seamen’s salty sermons shake; Where gathering ghosts glom and chide steeping, In the pool of the lost maiden song. *And the seeker, he is seeking . . . Eyes that turn the sands and are mirrors, Eyes that taught the books of Alexandria, Eyes that shook the flesh and are seers, Eyes that lit the pyres, burned true believers.*       3 Deep in the dark wood the waters rush, hush, Cramp, crew and creep, melodiously tread, Trammel, and burn as furies in keeping true The melting moon, the onerous owl, fluttering Things, muttering wings, cones in darkness Flings and filmy time flicks by the wayside; In the pool of the lost maiden song. *And the lover, he is longing . . . Love, lithe and lyric, he sees your sweeping shapes. Peace, parsed and pained he hears the voicing gape. Blind, bliss’d and shamed he wears the votive drapes. Hungered, thirsted and gone; seeks your pearly gate.*       4 Out in the forest maze the jarring sun seeps And swirls, only to roust the traveler onward Where soon he must meet the faces in the grotto Down in destroyed lands by the seas’ unreasoning Chime, deep in the dark whine of the shining mermaids, Where the doomed cry, round the navel of the world, In the pool of the lost maiden song. *And the doomed, they are crying . . . ****** beauty bade us, in a star crossed chrysalis, Made us, choose a desert’s winter of loneliness. Heed our fate and leave this valley torn of bliss; The many millions of locust fall in ripest fields.”*
0
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 2:59 PM UTC
In the Pool of the Lost Maiden Song
( a vision dream )       1 Down in the shrouded wood a wanderer walks And dreams the dreamers story he has lived. Sidled by the stream that sheds blue waters By the beds, trailing the rail of loves unknown Kiss and a voice that conjures truest bliss, Down in the drink where sweet Ophelia sleeps; In the pool of the lost maiden song. *And the dreamer, he is dreaming . . . Hair, that ropes the stoic man upon his mount. Hair, making souls’ lost ending breath a shout, And hair that weighs the wind, teaches it to sing; Hair, wending whirlpools waving fools to dive in.*       2 Lost at land’s end the sea lions, washed-up, wail And buzzards coast where eagles flail, rip tides Assail and chop the collected bones they drop; It is a chalky bone-yard break, golden escarpments Wake and a seamen’s salty sermons shake; Where gathering ghosts glom and chide steeping, In the pool of the lost maiden song. *And the seeker, he is seeking . . . Eyes that turn the sands and are mirrors, Eyes that taught the books of Alexandria, Eyes that shook the flesh and are seers, Eyes that lit the pyres, burned true believers.*       3 Deep in the dark wood the waters rush, hush, Cramp, crew and creep, melodiously tread, Trammel, and burn as furies in keeping true The melting moon, the onerous owl, fluttering Things, muttering wings, cones in darkness Flings and filmy time flicks by the wayside; In the pool of the lost maiden song. *And the lover, he is longing . . . Love, lithe and lyric, he sees your sweeping shapes. Peace, parsed and pained he hears the voicing gape. Blind, bliss’d and shamed he wears the votive drapes. Hungered, thirsted and gone; seeks your pearly gate.*       4 Out in the forest maze the jarring sun seeps And swirls, only to roust the traveler onward Where soon he must meet the faces in the grotto Down in destroyed lands by the seas’ unreasoning Chime, deep in the dark whine of the shining mermaids, Where the doomed cry, round the navel of the world, In the pool of the lost maiden song. *And the doomed, they are crying . . . ****** beauty bade us, in a star crossed chrysalis, Made us, choose a desert’s winter of loneliness. Heed our fate and leave this valley torn of bliss; The many millions of locust fall in ripest fields.”*
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53
The black hole’s emanations attempted to fill the gap in galactic  infiniteness as all spiraled down to its new beginnings while residual harmonic vibrations honed the forms of its becoming . The insect’s hum buzzed harmoniously almost melodiously in  syncopated integrated vibrations as it flew across the room , out the door and into the night sky . The ship’s deck rolled and pitched as hurricane weather smashed and  shattered its empty hull against the wooden dock . The blazing core of the comet streaked across the sky as it decomposed  in the atmosphere and extinguished its self in the ocean . The blazing light of innumerable suns chaotic radioactive glair was almost audible like sounds of distant campfires as the last bits of wood crackled into embers beneath the starry sky .
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Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 1:46 PM UTC
Temporally Transitive
It is a beautiful bird sanctuary Where a sparrow chirps, a cuckoo sings And the parrot talks and the mina speaks And the peacock dances There is a great comradeship among th e birds But a proud crow inflitrates into the place And prattles and boos the cuckoo And mocks at the lark The nightingale sings so melodiously That all the birds clap and laugh Except the crow who thinks his bark Is greater than the song of a lark He feels as though he were the king of The park and thinks his bark is sweeter than A parrot’s talk and greater than a peacock’s Walk. How long can he bark? The crow is like a poison in a bowl of manna How long will the birds bear their woes? A day comes when they will kick the crow out He will surely be out of sight
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Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 6:13 AM UTC
The bird sanctuary
it had better be the best of me want to go out kickin’ & screamin’ with words that rip those ***** bandages holding us together, rip’em with more than the merest passing ounce of a simplistic ouch poetry, a sun reflector of the daily of living, you’re up, then floor crawling, not for the first time, and most likely, you never saw the sucker- sunburn-(pow)-punch hitting you from behind the muddling of memories, them, that can weep and sweep you into comfort, sustained, by the knowing at that exact moment, I, gave you the best of me no joke; yeah I’m young(ish), partied hard, fell hard-in love. only to be busted opened up, like too many else…nothing there to write home about, but to write a poem that survives in someone else’s heart, that would be miraculous, as grand as the grand things and truly great people I know, but hello, poets, this promise, for real but David Foster, et.al, said all this better, and so melodiously ~~~ “And I think I've gone this far Because of you Could be no other love but ours Will do No one will ever touch me more And I only hope that in return No matter how much we have to learn I saved the best of me for you”
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Aug 31, 2024
Aug 31, 2024 at 12:53 PM UTC
Hello Poets, If This, My Last Poem Be, Perhaps,
IN THE POOL OF THE LOST MAIDEN SONG                 1 Down in the shrouded wood a wanderer walks And dreams the dreamers story he has lived. Sidled by the stream that sheds blue waters By the beds, trailing the rail of loves unknown Kiss and a voice that conjures truest bliss, Down in the drink where sweet Ophelia sleeps; In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the dreamer, he is dreaming . . . Hair, that ropes the stoic man upon his mount. Hair, making souls’ lost ending breath a shout, And hair that weighs the wind, teaches it to sing; Hair, wending whirlpools waving fools to dive in.                 2 Lost at land’s end the sea lions, washed-up, wail And buzzards coast where eagles flail, rip tides Assail and chop the collected bones they drop; It is a chalky bone-yard break, golden escarpments Wake and a seamen’s salty sermons shake; Where gathering ghosts glom and chide steeping, In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the seeker, he is seeking . . . Eyes that turn the sands and are mirrors, Eyes that taught the books of Alexandria, Eyes that shook the flesh and are seers, Eyes that lit the pyres, burned true believers.                 3 Deep in the dark wood the waters rush, hush, Cramp, crew and creep, melodiously tread, Trammel, and burn as furies in keeping true The melting moon, the onerous owl, fluttering Things, muttering wings, cones in darkness Flings and filmy time flicks by the wayside; In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the lover, he is longing . . . Love, lithe and lyric, he sees your sweeping shapes. Peace, parsed and pained he hears the voicing gape. Blind, bliss’d and shamed he wears the votive drapes. Hungered, thirsted and gone; seeks your pearly gate.                 4 Out in the forest maze the jarring sun seeps And swirls, only to roust the traveler onward Where soon he must meet the faces in the grotto Down in destroyed lands by the seas’ unreasoning Chime, deep in the dark whine of the shining mermaids, Where the doomed cry, round the navel of the world, In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the doomed, they are crying . . . ****** beauty bade us, in a star crossed chrysalis, Made us, choose a desert’s winter of loneliness. Heed our fate and leave this valley torn of bliss; The many millions of locust fall in ripest fields.”
0
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 6:46 PM UTC
In the Pool of the Lost Maiden Song
IN THE POOL OF THE LOST MAIDEN SONG                 1 Down in the shrouded wood a wanderer walks And dreams the dreamers story he has lived. Sidled by the stream that sheds blue waters By the beds, trailing the rail of loves unknown Kiss and a voice that conjures truest bliss, Down in the drink where sweet Ophelia sleeps; In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the dreamer, he is dreaming . . . Hair, that ropes the stoic man upon his mount. Hair, making souls’ lost ending breath a shout, And hair that weighs the wind, teaches it to sing; Hair, wending whirlpools waving fools to dive in.                 2 Lost at land’s end the sea lions, washed-up, wail And buzzards coast where eagles flail, rip tides Assail and chop the collected bones they drop; It is a chalky bone-yard break, golden escarpments Wake and a seamen’s salty sermons shake; Where gathering ghosts glom and chide steeping, In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the seeker, he is seeking . . . Eyes that turn the sands and are mirrors, Eyes that taught the books of Alexandria, Eyes that shook the flesh and are seers, Eyes that lit the pyres, burned true believers.                 3 Deep in the dark wood the waters rush, hush, Cramp, crew and creep, melodiously tread, Trammel, and burn as furies in keeping true The melting moon, the onerous owl, fluttering Things, muttering wings, cones in darkness Flings and filmy time flicks by the wayside; In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the lover, he is longing . . . Love, lithe and lyric, he sees your sweeping shapes. Peace, parsed and pained he hears the voicing gape. Blind, bliss’d and shamed he wears the votive drapes. Hungered, thirsted and gone; seeks your pearly gate.                 4 Out in the forest maze the jarring sun seeps And swirls, only to roust the traveler onward Where soon he must meet the faces in the grotto Down in destroyed lands by the seas’ unreasoning Chime, deep in the dark whine of the shining mermaids, Where the doomed cry, round the navel of the world, In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the doomed, they are crying . . . ****** beauty bade us, in a star crossed chrysalis, Made us, choose a desert’s winter of loneliness. Heed our fate and leave this valley torn of bliss; The many millions of locust fall in ripest fields.”
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53
The living shall worship 🛐 thy Lord as the Angels adore Him on the throne. Off their faces with their golden crowns 👑+ bowing down. Their songs is hallelujah, 🙌 glory, giving holiness, admiring the everlasting living being. Who made heaven is holy place of abode. Make audible roaring, let the pillars of heaven tremble, and the waters surrounding the universe from the peak of heaven shallow down the depth of sea bowing🙇 before His presence Every powers and knees worship, 🛐 before his presence, glory, salvation, healing, blessing, devine favor, love, peace, life hove in His presence, sing melodiously shout excellently even with poetry, sing palm unto thy Lord who is worthy, on whose hands lies everythang. Holy, holy spirit, holy is thy Lord Almighty God. Blessing be the name of thy Lord God. Amen! 🙏
0
Apr 2, 2023
Apr 2, 2023 at 3:27 PM UTC
BEFORE HIS PRESENCE
slightest of her sight was such it's gravity's might wholly my heart shook such was that compelling look left me utterly sired tangled like a tainted wire heart crumbling feet stumbling blind by her aura's light such was it's bright my heart melodiously sings trapped by her angelic wings like she came from pretty moon for me was she a boon her rolling eyes something they meant for I was hypnotized by her saccharin scent wore exquisite crimson dress that showered roses with zest I knew one thing for sure this love was veritably pure no dream no fantasy this was to aquire you my only devoted cause..
0
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 7:34 AM UTC
glamour
Through the laden flights of pot-stewed gulls - Deepening in red rosaries to poltroon, Contaminated by an urgent wish, The sun-soaked merry bandits blew. Each to each, and, mingling with that sweaty palm, Dolorous eyes sad-greeted the fleeing dawn. Pancreas then, the earth-girdled Titan swam, Anon the rising tide to stem. Dentist the night, repair to dance-floored beams, And rising melodiously ever anew to pine, Sweet ***** dreaming of her saw-toothed chemise Saw the fine end to the upstart king. Curtains swayed against my pearly doom Not brightly was your plainting song Palpitating in earthly measures anew Or seeking once more the mighty to appease. O David, in thy glance the silver moth did live Long dawns. An enemy of the swordfish, He menaced us so long. And now? Sporadic is the demise of depth! A silver sea, or rather a sea with a fine multitude of silver points Caressing my eyes like toothless counterpoint to the stately blue. It gave a floor to a weening being of prancing gait and measured thighs. She smiled. And the sea broke and roared, as ever, and I heard it once more. I saw too the sky, which had sufficient blue.   Cooled by the sea, warmed by the setting rays and mild air, the body luxuriated in perfect temperature.  She did not smile, but perhaps she did.. My body, I mean. We came away, from there, as from all places to meet another need. of darkness and quiet.  Foamed the elements of slaking portions of mysterious substance.  Surrendered to the moving body without real life.   Borne along on a stream of liquid desire residing in another's breast.   Relinquishing her to a perfect nothingness like lead or caviare.         Oh, and who awaited me?  She was imprisoned but beautiful and I thought quite happy.  I don't think she even wanted to come to me, or so it seemed.  But she was happier too outside, in the waning sun.   Mainly she had been safe and free.      And there's an end of this day, which roamed whither it would, for I did not attempt to chain it.  Now I flee it.
0
Apr 7, 2012
Apr 7, 2012 at 3:55 AM UTC
Blaauberg Beach
Through the laden flights of pot-stewed gulls - Deepening in red rosaries to poltroon, Contaminated by an urgent wish, The sun-soaked merry bandits blew. Each to each, and, mingling with that sweaty palm, Dolorous eyes sad-greeted the fleeing dawn. Pancreas then, the earth-girdled Titan swam, Anon the rising tide to stem. Dentist the night, repair to dance-floored beams, And rising melodiously ever anew to pine, Sweet ***** dreaming of her saw-toothed chemise Saw the fine end to the upstart king. Curtains swayed against my pearly doom Not brightly was your plainting song Palpitating in earthly measures anew Or seeking once more the mighty to appease. O David, in thy glance the silver moth did live Long dawns. An enemy of the swordfish, He menaced us so long. And now? Sporadic is the demise of depth! A silver sea, or rather a sea with a fine multitude of silver points Caressing my eyes like toothless counterpoint to the stately blue. It gave a floor to a weening being of prancing gait and measured thighs. She smiled. And the sea broke and roared, as ever, and I heard it once more. I saw too the sky, which had sufficient blue.   Cooled by the sea, warmed by the setting rays and mild air, the body luxuriated in perfect temperature.  She did not smile, but perhaps she did.. My body, I mean. We came away, from there, as from all places to meet another need. of darkness and quiet.  Foamed the elements of slaking portions of mysterious substance.  Surrendered to the moving body without real life.   Borne along on a stream of liquid desire residing in another's breast.   Relinquishing her to a perfect nothingness like lead or caviare.         Oh, and who awaited me?  She was imprisoned but beautiful and I thought quite happy.  I don't think she even wanted to come to me, or so it seemed.  But she was happier too outside, in the waning sun.   Mainly she had been safe and free.      And there's an end of this day, which roamed whither it would, for I did not attempt to chain it.  Now I flee it.
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58
A cuckoo melodiously sang For many years long In anticipation of her dear king The most beautiful seasonal spring The song was so sweet and great That it was heard all over the world The world sympathized with the cuckoo To console her they stood in a queue The bird waited for the king She expected a wedding ring But he went to another land Which he thought more grand The cuckoo was shocked Her voice was choked How long will she stop the song? It was not at all her wrong She sang a different song The people would throng They blessed she would live long! Her divine song she would prolong
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Dec 25, 2010
Dec 25, 2010 at 4:30 AM UTC
THE CUCKOO AND THE SPRING
I am a dust laden untuned guitar in a corner. Come toward me and wipe away all my loneliness and tune the untuned strings in my life with your warm hands. Chat with me the way you sing melodiously along with your guitar's melodious tunes. Beat my fears the way you beat your drums. Read , understand , remember and love me like your books. Listen to the noises , voices , whispers and sounds in my silences. Give me an eternal space in your poetries. Spent such moments with me that gets carved beautifully on the walls of my memories. Get lost in my love the way you are into the melodies of your violen and piano while playing them. Love me above the boundaries of ether. Embrace me tightly in the arms of your soul and coalesce me within your soul. And take me away in the ethereal cosmos with you.
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Aug 6, 2020
Aug 6, 2020 at 11:37 AM UTC
Craving For Intimacy
POOL OF THE LOST MAIDEN SONG                 1 Down in the shrouded wood a wanderer walks And dreams the dreamers story he has lived. Sidled by the stream that sheds blue waters By the beds, trailing the rail of loves unknown Kiss and a voice that conjures truest bliss, Down in the drink where sweet Ophelia sleeps; In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the dreamer, he is dreaming . . . Hair, that ropes the stoic man upon his mount. Hair, making souls’ lost ending breath a shout, And hair that weighs the wind, teaches it to sing; Hair, wending whirlpools waving fools to dive in.                 2 Lost at land’s end the sea lions, washed-up, wail And buzzards coast where eagles flail, rip tides Assail and chop the collected bones they drop; It is a chalky bone-yard break, golden escarpments Wake and a seamen’s salty sermons shake; Where gathering ghosts glom and chide steeping, In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the seeker, he is seeking . . . Eyes that turn the sands and are mirrors, Eyes that taught the books of Alexandria, Eyes that shook the flesh and are seers, Eyes that lit the pyres, burned true believers.                 3 Deep in the dark wood the waters rush, hush, Cramp, crew and creep, melodiously tread, Trammel, and burn as furies in keeping true The melting moon, the onerous owl, fluttering Things, muttering wings, cones in darkness Flings and filmy time flicks by the wayside; In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the lover, he is longing . . . Love, lithe and lyric, he sees your sweeping shapes. Peace, parsed and pained he hears the voicing gape. Blind, bliss’d and shamed he wears the votive drapes. Hungered, thirsted and gone; seeks your pearly gate.                 4 Out in the forest maze the jarring sun seeps And swirls, only to roust the traveler onward Where soon he must meet the faces in the grotto Down in destroyed lands by the seas’ unreasoning Chime, deep in the dark whine of the shining mermaids, Where the doomed cry, round the navel of the world, In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the doomed, they are crying . . . ****** beauty bade us, in a star crossed chrysalis, Made us, choose a desert’s winter of loneliness. Heed our fate and leave this valley torn of bliss; The many millions of locust fall in ripest fields.”
0
Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 1:18 PM UTC
Pool of the Lost Maiden Song
POOL OF THE LOST MAIDEN SONG                 1 Down in the shrouded wood a wanderer walks And dreams the dreamers story he has lived. Sidled by the stream that sheds blue waters By the beds, trailing the rail of loves unknown Kiss and a voice that conjures truest bliss, Down in the drink where sweet Ophelia sleeps; In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the dreamer, he is dreaming . . . Hair, that ropes the stoic man upon his mount. Hair, making souls’ lost ending breath a shout, And hair that weighs the wind, teaches it to sing; Hair, wending whirlpools waving fools to dive in.                 2 Lost at land’s end the sea lions, washed-up, wail And buzzards coast where eagles flail, rip tides Assail and chop the collected bones they drop; It is a chalky bone-yard break, golden escarpments Wake and a seamen’s salty sermons shake; Where gathering ghosts glom and chide steeping, In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the seeker, he is seeking . . . Eyes that turn the sands and are mirrors, Eyes that taught the books of Alexandria, Eyes that shook the flesh and are seers, Eyes that lit the pyres, burned true believers.                 3 Deep in the dark wood the waters rush, hush, Cramp, crew and creep, melodiously tread, Trammel, and burn as furies in keeping true The melting moon, the onerous owl, fluttering Things, muttering wings, cones in darkness Flings and filmy time flicks by the wayside; In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the lover, he is longing . . . Love, lithe and lyric, he sees your sweeping shapes. Peace, parsed and pained he hears the voicing gape. Blind, bliss’d and shamed he wears the votive drapes. Hungered, thirsted and gone; seeks your pearly gate.                 4 Out in the forest maze the jarring sun seeps And swirls, only to roust the traveler onward Where soon he must meet the faces in the grotto Down in destroyed lands by the seas’ unreasoning Chime, deep in the dark whine of the shining mermaids, Where the doomed cry, round the navel of the world, In the pool of the lost maiden song. And the doomed, they are crying . . . ****** beauty bade us, in a star crossed chrysalis, Made us, choose a desert’s winter of loneliness. Heed our fate and leave this valley torn of bliss; The many millions of locust fall in ripest fields.”
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53
since the enchanted dream In the night i saw my insides are twitching craving to draw the exquisite meadow luxuriant with wonders cumulus clouds narrowing in row whence the water Hastily sprang hushing rapids melodiously sang prismatic reflection deceitfully shifts the way the birds chanted in bliss crimson sky vibrant pattern it formed beguiling wind something it want left me wonderstruck rolling in stream I glided the fall ended the dream
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Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 8:58 AM UTC
wonderstruck
That soft symphony enchants my senses Spiraling my emotions each out of control Amatory temptations blossom ever more With every second she caresses my soul All of those words charmingly resounding Written carefully from the outset of the nib Impeccably sung by the heart of an Angel Yet composed sweetly by a young cherub Soft and yet graceful this Angel sings forth Pure elegant tunes coming from her heart A sacred seamstress of poetic perfection Her voice, purity - a Heavenly work of art Venerated forever, she sings melodiously Using all of the notes I have come to love Gazing at her singing I then realize slowly This Angel is more than I could dream of Celestially precious this Angel I have met Angelic perfection upon me she bestows May the spirit she bares always be eternal As the seraphic heart that within her glows
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Oct 25, 2010
Oct 25, 2010 at 2:56 PM UTC
Hallowed Angel
1)The living shall worship 🛐 thy Lord as the Angels adore Him on the throne. 2)Off their faces with their golden crowns 👑+ bowing down. 3)Their songs is hallelujah, 🙌 glory, giving holiness, admiring the everlasting living being. 4)Who made heaven is holy place of abode. 5)Make audible roaring, let the pillars of heaven tremble, the foundation of the Earth quake. 6)And the waters surrounding the universe from the peak of heaven. 7) Shallow down the depth of sea bowing🙇 before His presence. 8) Every powers and knees worship, 🛐 before his presence. 9) Glory, salvation, healing, blessing, divine favor, love, peace, life hove in His presence. 10) Sing melodiously, gloriously shout excellently even with poetry. 11) Sing palm unto thy Lord who is worthy, on whose hands lies everythang. 12) Holy, holy spirit, holy is thy Lord Almighty God. 13) Blessing be the name of thy Lord God. Amen! 🙏
0
Apr 28, 2023
Apr 28, 2023 at 5:03 AM UTC
PSALM OF CLOUDNINE TO ADORE THY ALMIGHTY LORD GOD