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Sana Dec 2014
I let myself drown asunder
Ignorance is bliss?
Or is it hum durgeon?
Do not utter the sage in you
Nor shun;
Let me lull
For today I unfurl my placid eyes
And let my drowsiness drift
Away from these snollygosters

Let these destined tides sweep through me
Whilst I gently rise,
From the ocean of rage, I rise
Drifting through notes of gentle souls
Amid these crimson glistening waves,
I bleed among roars
Whilst shores sway with sounds of tabret,
And skies dance in nacarat,
For never it welcomed; Redness,
Such unsullied, such stainless

Time hath gone, of Abel and Aron
Yet altercation wanders amongst age’s heron
Time hath gone, of forgiveness and mercy
For today, lines are re-drawn
The goodness is not your goodness
Nor dare ascertain, the mischief and nuisance
Tis but what divinely revealed
Is benevolence..
Today I unsheathed Tutankhamun’s dagger,
Today I stand against savageness
Today I paint my hands in color of mercilessness
The brutality of militant terrorist group galvanised me into writing this piece after Peshawar massacre.
This is my candle light vigil.
Alan Maguire Mar 2013
Nacarat swastikas drawn on eggshell blue washed paper
some half chewed crayons.

At least the box says that they're non-toxic
she watched the history channel all weekend long and like most kids her interest peaked then waned, spiraling and spiraling like a Messerschmitt BF- 109, it's tail spewing smoke

Adolf and Eva no longer held her attention and no longer romanticized her vision, then, she took off her rose tinted heart shaped glasses and ran outside to the sunshine
Ethereal echoes
Emerald seas
Nacarat skies
Misty breeze

Mellifluous is her melody
Majestic every scene
Serenity of Serena
Allure of Ausrine

I tilt my head in ecstasy
My thoughts begin to cease
Sand beneath my hands
Cold, calming waters,
Languidly caress my feet

And like a child running around
And like a child who knows no bound
At the end, is enervated
I lay utterly still,
In her embrace,
Exhausted,
Yet satiated

Satiated by her healing warmth
Satiated by her meliorating touch
Satiated so much,
I wonder,
If my heart could hold so much of love.
Jack Nov 2014
~

Placed on a mantle, the ship torn and tattered
Its bottle long gone as it smashed to the floor
Shards of the memories swept and discarded
Tossed out to sea at the edge of the shore

The captain, a man of great means and stature
Stood at the helm till the storm it had passed
All but the crew warned of coming disaster
Seeing the clouds filled with darkness en mass

Rough were the waters, the flags were a waving
Violent the waves that did spill on the bow
Taller than buildings at rest on the homeland
Survival the quest even not knowing how

Deep was this ocean, despair on it surface
Blue as the night with no moon there to shine
Calling his name as he held to the railing
Wondering if this just might be his time

Flashes of long ago parted his memories
Regrets began flowing as if on their own
It would be different if he had the manner
Hindsight to tell him if only he’d known

Washed up on shore with the ringing so loudly
Felt for the earth as the tide did recede
Gasping for air as if none had existed
Tasting the salt of what he did believe

Burning of wounds that did cover his body
Ripples a’ sheen as the sun it did rise
Blurry his vision the focus he needed
Sent on this voyage of his own design

Running away seemed the answer to freedom
Hauntings of loss came to welcome him home
So far away did the scene seem much sweeter
Not on your life as he now stood alone

Back to his senses, this ship was his letter
Words he had written not ever to send
Caught in a down pour of flooded emotions
How could this happen to him once again

When out in the distance upon the horizon
A nacarat sky did call to his face
Turning attention to what had just happened
He noticed the path of his fears did erase

Calm placed its hand on the waters before him
Soft was the wind that did partner his breath
Sending a strength that before had been frozen
Causing the chill that half scared him to death

Smooth was the ocean, this ship very buoyant
Sails to the east took on air to their fill
Moving his ship to the edge of nirvana
Downhill the sailing a’ bridge of the hill

Peace did engulf every board that he strode
Lush came the vision of land at his stern
Caution now tossed to the winds of devotion
Using the lessons his life it did learn

Happy the ending though just the beginning
Spring brought the crocus atop of the earth
Smiling of daisies in form fitting fashion
Now was the day of his new found rebirth

There was no ship and there was no captain
Raging the seas but a figment of truth
Storm clouds ahead was to my own reaction
That was the chapter and I’ve found the proof

Merely a story with no complications
Telling the tale of my life once before
Tossing and turning till right side was down
Till the horizon placed you at my door

This strange adventure is how I was feeling
Lost in a world with no earthly delights
Cast to the corner and taken advantage
Until the day that you came to my life

As if the sun found my eyes so wide open
Warmed up my heart with a joy ever new
Embracing the touch that I now find does comfort
As of that day that our love came to view

Long were the years of my loneliest outlook
This day that time shall remain locked away
For as your love it does greet me each morning
Eternal my dreams will be born every day

So call me a captain, the world is my vessel
Sitting a’ port at the head of the gate
Love is my ocean so far everlasting
For now it hath brought me the perfect first mate
Sorry it is so long, I was bored and needed something to ocupy my time.  :)
Jenish Jan 2020
Long long ago in a lonely lovely hill
When earth was young, handsome and green
Besides the meadow near the curly winding flow
There stood a tree proudly high and spry.

Swaying and dancing in wheezy pleasy breeze
Never was he still, always in a swing.
Not even a speck, not a little flea
Never allowed any, sitting in his spray.

Winder came to hinder, pouring all her snow
Our tree kept fighting, throwing all his snow.
Jutting high he stood, leafy and green
In the midst of an ocean of falling snowy flakes.

Two little sparrows, flying from the north
Searching for a shade in that minacious wind.
Saw the mighty tree, swiftly they descent
Nestled in his branches to save their little lives.

Before they could settle, hurled to the ground
Without any mercy, our dancing prancing tree.
Again they tried, again thrown to ground
Again and again, bereft of any kindness.

Tired and puffing that little sparrow mother
Sprawled on his feet fighting for her breath.
Two tiny pearls rolled from her eyes
Smelted on his foot with her warmth and pain.

Dazed and watching, the mighty tree stood
Feeling all the pain the little creature bear.
Heavy at his heart, Heavy was his branches
Forlorn and silent, melting hefty heart.

The feathery teeny couple, eyed the tree quiet
Perched on his branches, prudent and happy.
Later on that day, picking twigs and leaves
Weaving with care, they made their winsome nest.

The dotish dancing tree, spying all their actions
Tussled with tempest, stayed there without motion.
Not a single leaf, not a petty branch
Not even a sigh, he uttered without care.

The pair of lovely birds, huddled in their home
Shared lovely blankets, spreading wings and feathers.
Peeping through his leaves and crimson little branches
He watched the birds slept, with a sense of love.
  
Teeming deep-felt care, bearing flakes and fall
Proud dancing tree, stood there rapt and frozen.
Winter slowly left and the spring was yet to come
The tiny sparrow mother, laid three wonder eggs.

Hugged and rolled in love, day and night in hurry
Feeble tweets and cry, woke the vigilant tree.
Weeny songs of love, doting brush of quills
Tiny goofy beaks, jutted from the nest.

Like a foster father, our tree stood blessed and chilled
Wished to rock and spin, but moved not in the least.
Time kept flying away, spring came dazzling in
Pretty little chicks, learned to flutter and dance.

Rapture spilled around, florets blossomed out
Covered nacarat flowers, stood he shy and blushed.
Chasing flies and bees, singing songs of love
They float around their grandpa, lovely wonder kids.

Swinging salmon fruits, he fed the little birds
Bowing head and pride, with a dancing heart.
The naughty sparrow chicks, poohed on his branches
But the mighty tree, never mind their doodles.

As the wings got stronger, they soared high and far
On the vicinal lands and to the distant shores
Sailing wonder worlds, flying with their dreams
But never forgot to return, for a goodnight sleep.

On to the cerulean sky, not any farewell words
The happy little family, one day flown and gone.
Watching day and night, our doomed dancing tree
Waited for their return, dreadful and as dead.

Sun shed all his splendors to wake and make him happy
Dismal clouds cried, drenching him in showers.
Winter came and poured, covered him in snow
The dancing tree never moved not a single leaf.

From distant snowy clouds chirping sounds he heard
Woken from his slumber, shaking all his snow.
In wheezy pleasy breeze, swayed and danced in glee
Waited for the couple and one more tale of love.
Marbre de Paros.

Un jour, au doux rêveur qui l'aime,
En train de montrer ses trésors,
Elle voulut lire un poème,
Le poème de son beau corps.

D'abord, superbe et triomphante
Elle vint en grand apparat,
Traînant avec des airs d'infante
Un flot de velours nacarat :

Telle qu'au rebord de sa loge
Elle brille aux Italiens,
Ecoutant passer son éloge
Dans les chants des musiciens.

Ensuite, en sa verve d'artiste,
Laissant tomber l'épais velours,
Dans un nuage de batiste
Elle ébaucha ses fiers contours.

Glissant de l'épaule à la hanche,
La chemise aux plis nonchalants,
Comme une tourterelle blanche
Vint s'abattre sur ses pieds blancs.

Pour Apelle ou pour Cléoméne,
Elle semblait, marbre de chair,
En Vénus Anadyomène
Poser nue au bord de la mer.

De grosses perles de Venise
Roulaient au lieu de gouttes d'eau,
Grains laiteux qu'un rayon irise,
Sur le frais satin de sa peau.

Oh ! quelles ravissantes choses,
Dans sa divine nudité,
Avec les strophes de ses poses,
Chantait cet hymne de beauté !

Comme les flots baisant le sable
Sous la lune aux tremblants rayons,
Sa grâce était intarissable
En molles ondulations.

Mais bientôt, lasse d'art antique,
De Phidias et de Vénus,
Dans une autre stance plastique
Elle groupe ses charmes nus.

Sur un tapis de Cachemire,
C'est la sultane du sérail,
Riant au miroir qui l'admire
Avec un rire de corail ;

La Géorgienne indolente,
Avec son souple narguilhé,
Etalant sa hanche opulente,
Un pied sous l'autre replié.

Et comme l'odalisque d'Ingres,
De ses reins cambrant les rondeurs,
En dépit des vertus malingres,
En dépit des maigres pudeurs !

Paresseuse odalisque, arrière !
Voici le tableau dans son jour,
Le diamant dans sa lumière ;
Voici la beauté dans l'amour !

Sa tête penche et se renverse ;
Haletante, dressant les seins,
Aux bras du rêve qui la berce,
Elle tombe sur ses coussins.

Ses paupières battent des ailes
Sur leurs globes d'argent bruni,
Et l'on voit monter ses prunelles
Dans la nacre de l'infini.

D'un linceul de point d'Angleterre
Que l'on recouvre sa beauté :
L'extase l'a prise à la terre ;
Elle est morte de volupté !

Que les violettes de Parme,
Au lieu des tristes fleurs des morts
Où chaque perle est une larme,
Pleurent en bouquets sur son corps !

Et que mollement on la pose
Sur son lit, tombeau blanc et doux,
Où le poète, à la nuit close,
Ira prier à deux genoux.

— The End —