"nectars" poems
I cried as I saw pimples in her dimples
Encycling her two cheeks like ripples
She was the one that got all my respect
To her I gave my time, no day of neglect
She was always having my annual rose
And her smile, my only efficient dose
I wept as I saw pimples in her dimples
As big as the size of Alaboyun's *******
She was a blend of white-blue always
And tarried for common, countless days
In the earliest moments of our fight
My emotional cord was tough and tight
I cried as I saw pimples in her dimples
For no more were those fresh apples
Those fruity, pleasant things she faked
As if there was no debris to be raked
She was always appearing ten-over-ten
And no signs of going from men to men
I wept as I saw pimples in her dimples
For I taught we'd be best among couples
The soft fingers of her green flowers
Captivated me every twenty-four hours
Then the flowers had music and mellow
Their nectars today are in sweet sorrow
I cried as I saw pimples in her dimples
Encycling her two cheeks like ripples
Her folks called me a playing tool
And her best friend, a funny fool
I danced through her demanding soul
I almost got crippled by its pot-hole
Now I cried as I saw those two dimples
Molested by her open, plenty pimples
If I knew she went after many men
I would have left her there and then
Had I known she nurtured many wrinkles
I'd have gone before an eye twinkles.
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 4:18 PM UTC
Cicadas whine metallically
In trees along the sweltered streets;
Wasps and hornets arc angrily
Enough to cause me fear.
Late summer’s not my favorite time of year.
Flowers nearly done;
The tulips, irises, and poppies
Long since seeded out;
They’ve had their fun.
Bedraggled day lilies remain,
This is the beginning of the mums.
Bees seek latent nectars
Or tap into their golden stores
To supplement their bumbling runs.
Lawns foist a burnt but stubborn edge
While only thistles still refuse
To bow to August's incessant heat;
Their spikes sprout poisonous defiance.
The dog’s left yellowed pools of dying grass;
I admit the neighbors’ lawns surpass.
I suppose the time to gather
Drying excrement’s returned, alas....
Keeping up appearances is hard at summer's end.
Ennui of season full and just past ripe
Leaves tired old men like me
A chiding cause to gripe.
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 10:39 AM UTC
I have seen the night
I have seen the day
I have seen butterflies over flowers
for nectars and for pollens
I have seen fireflies over moon
for heaven and for solace
But I have never seen this
what I see today
Candles and Sunflowers
I am in a field of green
over a top of hill, lovely
under the black with twinkles,
now and then.
and there are candles all around
and there are sunflowers
dancing and swaying with mountain breezes
and I am here, not astonished at all
I smile at everything
because the candle burns all my existence
and my memories sway slowly
memories of time when I have been sunflower
and i forgot sun would come back
but my desperation told me candles can do better
and I was not wrong
No sun can replace the candle
That have ignited and waxed my love
I do not desire sun any more
When you are here
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 1:17 PM UTC
Love untold, so bold, not cold;
Dream desire of my soul.
Arms strong, I belong, nothing wrong;
Passionately crave the whole.
Eyes aflame, no blame, no shame;
Deep longing of my heart.
Nectars flow, not slow, from below;
To be fully fed, not in part.
Veil opening, divine parting, inviting
Desperate hunger to be filled.
Sweet scent, holy mint, lover's tent;
My crying spirit would be thrilled.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 9:14 PM UTC
Has one ever known
The therapy of cutting fruit?
To pare a pear
Its skin left bare
And cleaned of its coarse green suit?
Underneath
The white meat
With knife parts so easily
That, in my grief
Blade unsheathed
Slice here and here and here.
Sweet relief! The nectars pour
In the sink and on the floor,
Its ****** sheen
--The loveliest I’ve seen!—
So I cut more and more.
I’ll cut the fruit, just like I said
One can't **** what's already dead.
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 11:29 AM UTC
O Lord of the hosts!
His eyes shine in radiance
in whose heart is your name
whence the origin and where the end
the earth, sky and stars
pay homage to him
and fear fears him
whom your shadow protects
O Lord of the hosts!
He who earns the blessing of your love
wealth finds him in whatever he does
and a shoreless boat is he who
has not found you whose
benevolent eyes keep watch over all
shattering the storms of sins,
whose glory never ebbs,
he becomes a master of his own destiny
even forgetting the world, who has
found your grace, come riding the mouse,
O Lord of the hosts!
Anointed of the dust of your foot
on his forehead, who lives mortal here,
the immortal nectars cannot tempt him
he can drink venom smiling
just by the shadow of your grace
the wheel of the chariot of time moves
and by a spark of your ire
abodes of demons burn
the minions of enemies stand defeated,
a particle is a mountain,
boon become into this world, comes your name,
O Lord of the hosts!
Glory, glory to the dear one adorned of peacocks!
Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 11:54 AM UTC
O Lord of the hosts!
Shine in radiance, his eyes -
in whose heart is your name;
Who fathoms your ends?
The earth, sky and stars
pay homage to him
and fear fears him,
whom your shadow protects:
O Lord of the hosts!
Wealth finds him in whatever he does
who earns the blessing of your love,
and a shoreless boat is he who
has not found you whose
benevolent eyes keep watch over all
shattering the storms of sins,
whose glory never ebbs;
Becomes a master of destiny,
even forgetting the world, who has
found your grace,
come riding the mouse -
O Lord of the hosts!
Anointed of the dust of your foot
on his forehead, who lives mortal here,
immortal nectars cannot tempt him -
he can drink venom smiling;
Just by the shadow of your grace
the wheel of the chariot of time moves
and by a spark of your ire
abodes of demons burn;
The minions of enemies stand defeated,
miraculous, boon become into this world,
comes your name:
O Lord of the hosts!
Glory, glory to the dear one adorned of peacock-feathers!
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC
I see no other endless tomorrow than
To lie face to face with you
On a bed of lavenders and violets.
The cool sun magnifies
The verdant fields in your eyes
And the radiant shadows of my hair.
Morning breeze enshrouds our bodies
Sustained by flames more eternal than Vesta’s.
Here forever after
In my ideal world.
If I felt hunger it shall not last long,
For there are nectars from the giant continent that is you.
If you knew thirst it shall be quenched,
Just drink from my hidden wells and fountains.
But remember that I’m not like the ancient Eve
And you can only be the Adam in our own accord.
The butterflies or birds won’t shame me.
The grasses or trees won’t complain.
For loving you is the only truth
In my ideal world.
My hands are here to heal and amuse you,
As long as your arms embrace me from harm.
We own only the lips and ears
Where sweet sounds pass by
To lull as to dream or memorize
We’ll not know starless night of horror,
The way the moon becomes our constant watcher.
We’ll fear no lightning or thunder of wrath
For the rain will be our noble preserver.
Come and stay
In my ideal world.
We don’t have to worry about Sunday
Or think of God to pray.
Nature is our divine link to the cosmos,
And us the perpetual worship fleshed out.
Celestial or earthly we need not know
For this is the spot where boundaries depart.
But all these remain as bright colors in my head
Unless you key in yourself in my mind
And enshrine me to your heart.
Our story can be written by our breath
On petals and foliage of existence to this place.
Somewhere we can call ours,
Come and take
My ideal world.
Jun 25, 2010
Jun 25, 2010 at 2:16 AM UTC
Vision
You & I get ready in the morning,
Go to office & work to exhaustion,
A 9 to 6 job at our office is tiring,
I & you meet in the lunch breaks,
Discuss work in middle of lunch,
Facing the obstacles in our work,
Busy in the various experiments,
Catching a look at the same time,
X-ray crystalograph is prepared,
Dizzying velocities of centrifuge,
Early risers - late runners to bed,
Heavy eyelids call us out for rest,
Reaching back to the home tired,
Junkies of love we'll stay awake,
Kissing we start the game of love,
Tickling yours body - you nibble,
Loving the foreplay we carry on,
Making love is a second priority,
Not always so energetic for love,
Over the edge we push ourselves,
Putting an extra effort as always,
Queen guides the King into cave,
Slow but steady our expression,
Zooming the oozing nectars out,
Under-relaxed we need a break,
Vacations are a really good idea.
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 2:14 AM UTC
I could drown myself in cups of coffee, in nicotine, old books, and whiskey.
But that won't make me crave you any less.
I could immerse myself in the deepest of enthralling literature, poems, a sea of colloquy,
Waves, strangling the current of my mind.
But you'd still be the resonant word.
I could listen to the sweetest of voices on repeat, golden like honey, sticky,
But my ears would only ever truly answer to yours.
Serpents tend to bite their own tails, a mythological and alchemic symbol of the cyclic nature of the universe: creation out of destruction.
But I'm not breaking my heart, loving you.
Swollen, yearning, daydreamed astray, gathered fast by night.
Curiosity deniable no more, innocence lost, hands wandered exploratory below.
Clambering desperate over themselves, those hands fell over folds of warmed flesh, over forgotten nooks and unfound crevasses, over trembling thighs and aching calves.
Astounded by the vast array of fresh delicacies, of unencountered sensations and deepest pleasures, she stood by loyal as those hands swiftly accustomed themselves to pursuing true ecstasy.
What divine rapture. What soaring heights of pleasure to ascend to. And what a delicious revelation to encounter such unimaginable ecstasy.
That twelfth year become a fourteenth, a fifteenth, a sixteenth.
And with the passing of each came a series of ever more adventurous trysts, the sorts of which Cousteau, Armstrong, and even Columbus could all be truly proud of.
Depths sounded, crevasses plundered, self’s nectars tasted and devoured, the pleasures of the flesh went unearthed.
Elaborate constructions lovingly shaped, waxed and honed, years of heady experimentation, trial and errors, fantasy and dreaming, all in the pursuit of even harder, better, faster, stronger ******* Perhaps it was that, or was it more a case of welcomed companionship? Ambidextrous frustration? A carnal appetite, most terrifying in its magnitude?
Isn’t it time then, you tried a little tenderness?
Be good to you.
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 3:20 PM UTC
I have sought many of the past lives,
Witnessed ages of the Earth’s passerby;
From when I was a little sapling,
Until vines and twigs turned wrinkling-
I am a linden tree and this is the story,
I’d tell in the form of poetry.
Many and many a year ago,
When mountains ceaselessly echo
And the birds chirped harmoniously,
Zephyr mutters silence and serenity;
Clouds clover sky in gleaming azure,
Meadow teeming with verdant grandeur.
The sound of the raging sea wave
Reverberates through the mighty cave;
Sun-kissed sand wallow all day,
Pristine and bright as the sun’s ray;
In the boggy soil I stand firm,
Watching the pendulous vine squirm.
Butterflies fluttering in great splendor,
Hovering and sipping nectars galore;
Screeching seagulls can be heard-
From a distant they form herd;
A group of mackerel rapidly swim,
Dwelling into the never-ending stream.
Those were the days when green
is all there is to be seen;
Before the rise of the civilization,
When humans value appreciation.
Blazing red lights swallowed,
Then ashes and dust followed;
Streams and riverbanks silently cry,
As fishes and clams gradually die;
Birds started singing in sorrow-
The broken melody of tomorrow.
This is the story that I’d be telling-
To my children and their sapling;
I am a linden tree, blessed and forsaken,
Whose memories and land they’ve taken.
May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 11:01 PM UTC
birthed into a golden birdcage
safe behind upstanding spindles
endless nectars and suet at your beckon
knowing only the showcase of your plumage
and the sound of your tunes
layers remain
between you and the grackles
painted a nuisance
yet they stay unshackled
only poisoned and disregarded.
still they know the freedoms
not found atop
swings and perches
dig deeper
until you find what lurches.
the gate can be opened
when you realize yourself
to be the gatekeeper
yielding what's mine
using wings of more than feathers
making up for lost time.
looking back at the captivity
you couldn't see from inside.
entering a new world
with the grackle as my guide.
Nov 19, 2023
Nov 19, 2023 at 4:29 PM UTC
211
Come slowly—Eden!
Lips unused to Thee—
Bashful—sip thy Jessamines—
As the fainting Bee—
Reaching late his flower,
Round her chamber hums—
Counts his nectars—
Enters—and is lost in Balms.
1.6k
I curse the mind's divine plan
as I lay in valley's low
gazing upon myself a god
and a perfect smile aglow
whilst I toil in my misery
my soul tied with stones
my statue's likeness stands above
revolted at his lesser clone
Look at how he humbly gloats
His skin golden perfection
A mind more clear than unstained glass
A body crafted in circumspection
but though I pull my nails
with a revised renewed edition
with every labored detail
capturing perfection
this tortuous image
calms my heart
stabbing it with hope
for a better start
and I hear whispers in my valley
selling nectars of complacency
spinning truths from fantasy
of how I too one day may be
but as my hands try to summit
the hill soars ever higher
and my mind it pities me below
Remaining on my pyre
and my blood steams
and irrational rashes grow
as I come to realize
I'll forever remain below
Jul 14, 2019
Jul 14, 2019 at 1:48 AM UTC
The travails of life endured
Ecstasies' nectars drunk full
Ever-present an undercurrent
Of wonder, marvel at this state
Of impermanence,that emanates still
An eternity somehow, unmindful of
The reapers sword grim! What miracle!
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 9:07 AM UTC
In the garden amongst the flowers
like a bee in a library, a bookshop
there's nectars sweet with flavors discrete
words bitter and stories magical
I see and fly by Kafka, oh there's Camus
I smell the roses and touch the lilies
knowing not how to make honey
much to see, much to read
can I drink my share, lead others here
where should I be, why cant I be
Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 5:18 PM UTC
June 28th 2015, 02:53am
The sun shall ascend in the morning, in a benediction of golden light.
Birdsong shall scatter through the air as brightly as sunlight on water,
butterflies shall rise in ragged flight, seeking out meadow nectars,
as peace breaks out throughout the peaks and valleys.
The man who works the land shall return, hungry and weary from his toil
to find his house still standing, as it always was before.
The rivers shall leap and dance over rocks and crash into waterfall ravines,
and no influx of blood shall taint their waters.
Peace shall resound in the calls of birds and laughter of children;
man shall lie with woman in untroubled spiritual and physical accord;
curve into hollow to curve, softly entwining and cradled in love,
and no sudden sounds shall disturb their loving.
The moon shall rise in the evening; swathed in luminescent clouds.
Retiring songs of birds shall herald the coming of twilight.
Peaceful breath of slumber shall rise and fall as night descends,
and all closed eyes shall be open again at sunrise.
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 9:54 PM UTC
as fragile as a butterfly wing
as swiftly blown away
my memories take flight at times
sail to some distant bay
yet, now and then they gently light
within my broken head
and with a dust-covered fluttering
they bring me peace, instead
sweet memories and sense of joy
and sorrow or of unhappiness
of all thoughts and colorful wisdom
flutter my butterfly in oneness
and in a moment they're here
and the next, then they're gone again
so if my mind seems so far away
while yours is focused on me, its all in vain
don't make it a moment that spoils your whole day
let it go, set your butterflies free and howl
for I remember Love, Passion and Relish
and it may feed and fuel my breached soul
I feel it in a smiling face, not to lie, in you
a hand in mine sweetness, showing me the way
a caring word, a warm embrace, a touch of happiness
these are the memories of each new day
and even if that memory, should simply flutter by
I'll catch it, maybe, later, talk to it and say
when it comes by you my Butterfly
I so much miss you, and I don't want you to go away
Love has many faces, Love is many things
I am not asking you to keep me as beloved as your love
but help me find the beautiful wings, make me alive
find me the colors of life, the gloss of my throve
and when you see me crying, my butterfly
why don't you come to me, hide me in your wings
say me in my eyes, you are not alone and wipe my tears
hold me close to you and whisper many a things
but instead, you fly away and see me lament
you know, I am not alright, I am so lost in my shell
I always have so much to speak in grief
and you have so many honest things to tell
I wonder my butterfly, if you feel the same
to hold you, caress you and make you feel ease
let you out in the world, help you see the flowers
collect the nectars and with breeze run with the bees
@manauwer
May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 12:28 PM UTC
so I guess this is it, the summit
not very impressing.
I thought at the least I'd see over the tops of skies
you should know I hid cigarette butts under the stone patio
off the guest wing. now I wish I could just lay on those rocks or at the base of your bed, vanity wore us down like shotgun rounds in the face of our masquerade ballet. I drank the bloods from your fountains of paradise: 19, 20, 21, 22, and 23
then found you in our bed with your fingers in your ***
to make sure we'd fit together more aptly, and now my skin
burns in its own rash of obsessive unforgetfulness, I make my own
******* future with you innit,
***** or no *****
I know nectars better than the Georgians
worship better than Mohammad
skin better than Buffalo Bill
and your name better than my own
Penguin.
Jan 2, 2016
Jan 2, 2016 at 1:08 AM UTC
I was sitting in my beautiful Garden
Digging sand and pouring water
There I saw a bizarre scene
That garden creature began to Sing
When the adorable flowers are swaying
Singing the song of ” Beauty of love “
When sweet fragrance spread out
To wake up the chirping birds
A butterfly ***** their colourful wings
Fly up and **** up the sweet nectars
And the bees are buzzing all along
The trees are dancing and enjoy the song
This moment captivated in my core of heart.
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 9:44 AM UTC
I know that I will spend the rest of my life with you, for you.
I know that we will spend many nights, both sleepless and slumbering, together.
I know that I will spend every day of my life thinking about you and wanting to care for you.
Society may never accept us and I might never tell my family about you, but if what we feel isn't marriage then I don't want it.
I know what we have is much sweeter than the most saccharin nectars of heaven. I don't care if Satan is my roommate, if that means I got to live with you.
Sep 18, 2023
Sep 18, 2023 at 12:26 PM UTC
In my mind I can see black hummingbirds fly
in the corners they swoop where glass figures cry
they sail on updrafts where the young laugh and taunt
and the black hummingbirds watch, in the darkness they haunt
they feed not on nectars or sweetness's grown
they feed on the minds of people well known
wings hum in the darkness, black shadows on black
and they jet in and out of the minds files once stacked
they watch from each corner, their wings sow a low groan
in the depths of the minds of the people well known
hands clench to their heads where black hummingbirds fly
they fall to their knees and the glass figures try
to get up and focus on things they once knew
its time, the darkness, then-- black hummingbirds flew
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 5:18 PM UTC
It was the slightest gossamer touch
And it brought me to my knees
I awoke in a panic
Only to see you were gone
But this time not a dream
In your wake you left hazy day dreams
Full of laughter and honey suckle
Darling, there was starlight dancing
As candles flickered and lilac and mint swayed in the lazy breeze
There was fruit ripe for the harvest and you reaped it
Sweet nectars dripped down your palm as you caught it with your tongue
And offered it to me
Oh how ripe, how sweet
Now be stilled in my soul
The tender wildflowers that were yours
Now I would never forget
Though the sands of time may ravage my heart
Wild flowers will still flourish in my temperance
So it was not a dream
Though I was asleep
For so many years
Now enlightened with soft little wildflowers
that grow deep in my soul
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 3:44 PM UTC
Body brimming with sensations.
inhabited by aches built up from ages.
You are only twentytwo.
But you're ancient soul,
And I hurt like you.
You've seen much
And known much beyond what you can speak.
You're bent double in the dirt,
But no pained sounds scratch dry across your lips.
Instead, this drumbeat.
Permeating the air with your presence.
Your ancient cadence and effervescence.
Its ever present
And it lingers
Tingles tinged with nectars sweeter
Converge at your coming,
At your going
They scatter to the four corners of the earth.
At Vesper's whisper, one evening far,
You'll find your star-singed edges
Returning to where you are.
You shall know yourself.
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 10:07 PM UTC
Behold!
Flowers,nuggets of gold,
Graceful,
Fragile, beautiful,
His creation,
With love and affection.
Tenderly, petal by petal they open,
In spring and Autumn,
Diamonds,glistening in the Sun.
Each different in size,shape and colour,
Rare, exotic delicate flowers
Bursting forth in showers,
Caressed by sweet fragrance,
Intoxicating perfumes,its essence.
Thirsty for their nectars,
Bees and hummingbirds,
Swarm and flock in numbers.
A new birth,
Nature in mirth.
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 4:42 AM UTC