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Pagan Paul Feb 26
.
The early sun warms my veins,
Dawn chorus birds are chattering again
A heady smell of dew and flowers
sets the scene for the morning hours.

The mid-day sun warms my face,
dancing butterflies pass playing chase.
The intoxicating scent of life in bloom
carries the promise of the afternoon.

The evening sun warms my world,
Oracles smile at the cool Spring Girl.
Perfumes waft from way out of sight
holding the future through the night.




© Pagan Paul (2015/18)
.
Fọlá Dec 2018
I doubt,
Therefore, I think
Therefore, I am.

I see.
I take in the colours around me.
The patterns, the lights, the rainbow.
I see the night, and the stars that glow.
I dream.
Therefore, I think.
Therefore, I am.

I smell.
The perfumes, the roses.
The stench, the rotten, the putrid.
The aromas, cooking.
The green, the forest, the trees.
I inhale,
Therefore, I think.
Therefore, I am.

I hear.
The noises. The people, the cheer.
The wails, the screams, the tears.
The rejoicing and happiness.
I hear.
Therefore, I think.
Therefore, I am.

I taste.
The sweetness, the fire.
The treats and savoury delights.
The sourness, the bitterness.
I eat,
Therefore, I think.
Therefore, I am.

I speak.
Short messages. Long speeches.
Quiet whispers. Bellowing noises.
I scream,
Therefore, I think,
Therefore, I am.

I feel.
The despair, the fear, the anguish.
The joy. The pride. The seething.
The envy, greed, and jealousy.
The cold, the heat, the shivering.
The pain, the sickness, the ageing.

I die.
Therefore, I lived.
Therefore, I was.
This poem is a spin of the famous saying by René Descartes. Enjoy.
Pagan Paul Jun 4
.
Walk through the silence
of a lonely tapestry,
its mute single thread
trying to Canute the night,
knowing it must ride the Moon
to dance with the stars.
Blood red ink.
Ink red blood.
Across pages it falls,
words of needlepoint pain
screaming at the audience,
the Moon has been deflowered
and the stars dance alone.
Cedar wood smoke perfumes
the stench of lethargy,
from an open log fire
throwing flickers of hopeful light,
flame fingers burn the Moon
as the stars cry for the weaver.




© Pagan Paul (02/06/19)
.
6th poem in Fool's diary series.
.
Nico Julleza Oct 2017
It seems simple, like all used to be
It might be normal, like everyone's daydream
We would run in endless circles—
In fields of autumn cling, wading ogles—
When this used to about you and me

The sky was glowing like your cotton cheeks
Marks passionately from kisses of your lips
We would scratch out scars Avast
From every unpainted fence that pass
In moments it was me hoping— will it ever last

As we drift up to that very hill— I envisioned
The grass was as different— different,
Different and effervescent than I ever known
And we'd lay blind feelings, forever in making
But it was you who decided to let it go

We only saw one tree, maybe one dotted line
Not knowing all is going to be— a doleful red
One horizon, everything used to be fine
When time stops you to be—
And someone took you from this arm of mine

Never it was the same or even has it been?
It would even stench fake perfumes
I was pushing to believe on what to be unseen
And where I stood, Died— of barren thirst
My sense, which was all left but never heard

And as I broke from your crimson goodbyes
I thought of every promise— A perfection,
And every commitment— An exaltation
But a solitary torment, only to know I'm trap
Oblivion, still my feeling keeps pulling you back
#Crimson #Goodbyes #Broken #Love #Nature #Tragedy

How Love can Hurt in a Million Stab's and how you tend to visualize the Good memories before the Goodbyes

(NCJ)POETRYProductions. ©2017
Therese Aug 2017
The body of a girl shot down. Hidden by flowers and sheets. Wounds that finally refused to heal. The usual suspects.

Father.
Mother.
Lover.
Stranger.

From one dead girl walking to another. I can see you. I can smell you beneath the perfumes and florals. The usual questions.

Was it a noose; a candlestick; a human hand?

Was it in the bedroom; the ballroom; the alleyway?

Was it for lust; greed; power?

Was it your fault?
Mohamed Nasir Nov 2017
A butterfly winks at a rose
Attracted by her perfumes
Tweaks fine filament nose
Lady likes me, he assumes
Her flaming pink petal lips
Enticing him to land a kiss
Hovers wings flickers flips
Lips, closer, closer to meet
He retracts, no, maybe not
Sorry love he couldn't do it
Fooled em all the time a lot
Go fly you flirtatious tweet
Maha Feb 2017
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

- Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same.
ولدت هنا لأبوين ولدا هنا من أبوين ولدا هنا.

- Houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves الرفوف are crowded  with
perfumes, مكتظة بالروائح
I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it أتنفس أريج نفسي فأنا أعرفه وأحبه.

- My respiration and inspiration شهيقي وزفيري, the beating of my heart خفقان قلبي, the passing
of blood and air through my lungs,
The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and
dark-color’d sea-rocks.

-  the song of me rising
from bed and meeting the sun. أغنيتي وأنا أنهض من السرير وأستقبل الشمس.

- Have you practis’d so long to learn to read? هل تمرنت طويلا لتتعلم القراءة؟
Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems.

- Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of
all poems امكث هذا النهار والليل معي وسوف تملك كل القصائد.

- You shall listen to all sides and filter them from your self سوف تصغى لكل الجهات وتنقيها عبر مصفاة ذاتك.

- To elaborate is no avail, learn’d and unlearn’d feel that it is so لا داعي للإسهاب (التطويل) المتعلم وغير المتعلم يدرك الأمر
هذه القصيدة هي تعبير عن الانتباة لشخص ما او لشيء او لخبرة حياتية معينة او حتى لجزء من وجودنا تم استيعابه او تخيله او حتى تذكره—وفي المقطع الاول من قصيدة "اغنية نفسي" اعطانا ويتمان صورة الشاعر الذي انتبه و اهتم بالعالم ككل وهو يطوف، و يميل و يفتح روحه للعالم اجمع. ما يلاحظه لا يمكن ان يوضع بصورة ابسط، وريقة العشب وهنا تكمن جمال الصورة: فالقصيدة لا تسعى الى شيء سوى ان تحكي قصة الكون من الداخل و الخارج بدئا من مستوى الذرة في الدم و التربة و الهواء ثم الطوفان في كل مكان—هذه شهادة رجل قرر ان يوسع مدارك خيالنا
Eryri May 13
Was it never more than lust,
Looking back at all the fuss?!
Let me now white-out 'love' from my biography
And write out 'lust' instead on that paper's scab.

When I think back at those romantic notions,
All those loving feelings I thought I had
Were just triggered by lotions and potions
That were the perfumes, cocktails and blind devotions.

Now, with the benefit of hindsight, I understand
What a cheap trick youth plays on the heart and mind;
Naivety combining with shallowness,
Confusing love with skin-deep-beauty and the resulting lust!
Lyn-Purcell Sep 2018
ᗩIᑎᕼᗩᖇᗩ
~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
"And people say that the Palace is
the heart," Lyn murmurs, looking
around the town. "The heart of
Aurelinaea truly beats within the
town."

~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
"Quite so, My Lady." Esshi nods in
agreement. It rings true; Aurelinaea
Palace rests and grows out of the heart
of the large island. It is even whispered
that there are secret passageways long
lost, that only the royal family know.
The towns are pulsing with the lives
of hundreds of thousands. From the
Palace, there is one street, a vein,
thick and wide, that leads down to
different parts of town.

~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
And like a heart, one vein connects
to many; thick and thin, wide and
narrow; several pathway, with
and without wooden fences, are
made of three colours; red stones,
yellow stones and green stones.

~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
All of them are winding around,
leading to several coloured houses,
gardens, markets, docks, grand
angel fountains that rests upon the
mosaics, bridges and the canals.

~ ⚪♫⚪ ~
The air is full of many smells, perfumes
and fresh flowers, fresh cakes, cookies and
breads, fresh produce and fish, fresh cut
grass and the sea. Smiths hammers away
at their swords and armour, people laugh,
children run and play around, cats meow,
dogs barks, seagulls cry and people laugh,
sing, talk and eat as they sail on the canals.
Building on the visuals.
Strange what one stumbles on when they're writing for a project.
I was looking at a diagram for the human heart.
Enjoy!
Gotta hit the hay, the second week of my course
resumes on the morrow!
Much love,
Lyn ***
Robin Carretti Jul 2018
She moves with
      Grace
The Gracious meeting in denial
He's the baron of beef delicious side
Reproduction picture full slide
The most
   Casual face

Met the eternal masterly
    Artist face
Saying Oh! Grace
The other side of midnight
     Mask Face
She could overjoy anyone's
Heart in the right place
    Deceiving Face

The miracle of love principles
Such skepticism could it be overjoyed realism

But a hell of a time with heavenly bliss
What a shock when he gave me my kiss
His Crooked face to longevity nose
Hiding place A-Rose

Beachy trance-set face

Highlands of Scotland,
anybody would want her
     *Joyful face


He's the baronial
Secluded caves but risky dives
The turn only If?? I
could turn back the time
The events strictly
confidential

Her apple cheeks bathing suit
He is picking her fruit
So soothing the fiddle
Tinman whistles the ladies harps

Their medieval moment's help!!!
The swords  bust to his manly chest
Sleeping Inn New castle west
Their best bedrest

The cupboards open overjoyed
invitation decorative cans
Of greens, pinks, purple passion

And flourless chocolate cakes
Powdered lips love his reaction

She was seductively awe-inspiring
The top hills of Ireland grass
vividly raised her legs
The bowl next to her
The Rose blush wines
Bare it Fruit and figs

The baronial tug of war wigs

Melodious birds the
Grand One
The thousand piano words
Overjoyed but
under the {Baronial} weather

So lordly new threads tailored
White-collared
carpenter pants
Men of the herds
She's the
Caron French boutique

There ****** desires
The creature within
Wildly mating like critiques

Her perfumes so extinct
mysteriously
Overjoyed her heart
So cultured violin strings
Dollhouse Castle to restore
With her unique touches,
he wanted more

The steps tiring like a killed deer
every muscle he could hear

Over elaborating how people are dating
With a  stamped from the very
heart  approval
But hard times such laboring
Sitting in her
overjoyed chair
His face all Scrooged
no gifts of flowers
What are the odds of this pair

Over and over again her rainbow
her sensitivity we need longevity
The  endless walls are caving in
We are not so overjoyed by
this monster garden
She had her first breakdown
Going up the
Jack and Jill Ireland hill
In the longtime what long run
Way too short
It didn't come from above

The vintage oldtimer
radios sitting
together with
family listening
so long ago
So commercialized
The crazy shows
Where do you really want to go,
you just want to shut everything off

He called her the powder puff
Waiting for the nocturnal star
Those scrubs and hot rubs shower
Over my knee-high boots so in
love cahoots

Oh! It's her
The smart student
Owl Hoot whats to boot
Eating her shepherd's pie
so lordly full lips word-me
Ireland Holy Land
of love and beauty

Overly scrupulousness
The time of blessings

But the baronial loved to be
overly entertained
And she would sit there  
Blue-blooded royal dishes
Got flushed away no wishes

Oversimplification
Like the hardest love
of multiplication
The ****** overstimulation
Over embellished
But you're still positive
overjoyed
But why did she
want to vanish

Over-programming
    Web-Face
Destroyed her
Apple jubilee computer

Spiritual Zen
Or new lover Amen
Ever touched by Ireland maidens
Like the crimson and clover
I do believe in the
Four leaf clover Face

Like the only thing she picked
were the weeds
More beauty of life and deeds
Or tons of sorrow wondering
how she
would feel tomorrow?
We will never know
Overjoyed by so many things have the beauty Ireland is amazingly beautified or everything feels unnecessary gloomy or horrified you rather pick of ripe blueberry or cherry or blackberry living like your in the castle being summoned on by the Scrooged type Baron
The day was bright and sunny
Bees were humming melodies
Flowers bloomed like innocent smiles
Colorful butterflies painted the garden
Winds spread chanel perfumes..
Clouds sent blessings in showers..
Cheerful conversations surrounded me
Laughter set the mood of the day..
Life seemed beautiful, promising..
It was the day I first met you.
"The reason why fragrances are beautiful is because they cannot be

seem. Perfumes may be the only beauty that can be felt with your eyes

closed. For those who are sick of our world's desire for visual beauty,

I believe it can be a source of comfort."
#true beauty within
Pagan Paul Oct 2018
.
i.
Tam had cornered the little ******* in an alley,
his detestation of small people teased his mind,
taunted him to ever more sadistic exterminations,
he considered child killing to be no real crime.
His method of death was pain and tortures,
make them scream until they breathed no more,
he knew nor cared not from where the hatred came,
he just enjoyed murdering the children of the poor.

ii.
The globe shone and took her far
through and between space and stars,
along time lines ever changing fast,
vacillating betwixt the future and past,
a trip that so few had made or survived,
but in point she found she had arrived.

iii.
A yellow glow cascades around
from street lamps aligned in rows.
A feint hint of oil in the chill air
perfumes the night, assaults her nose.
Cobbled streets with carriage ruts
are quiet with few walking abroad.
The Seers Sphere travelling in Time
lands her in a place to be explored.

iv.
Tonight Tam felt the cold like never before
shivering hard as he scowled at the kids
herded underground to his special prison.
The chill sinks deeper and deeper
attacking the bones from the inside out.

v.
Her instincts bristled, advising caution,
as she strolls along the cobbled streets,
homing in on her victims location,
just at the moment the rain turns to sleet.

vi.
Tam had been mutilating the boy
in full view of the other brats,
scaring the little ******* shitless,
feeding pieces to his pet rats.

It was then the cold gripped him,
rattling his teeth, freezing his spine.
The children sat rigid as statues,
as a ghost appeared from out of Time.

The door frame shattered.
An unspoken command to depart.
Out the children clattered.
As ice took hold of Tam's heart.

Unseen frozen fingers gripped his throat,
he ****** himself as he is dragged out,
his bones snapping likes sticks of ice,
throat to dry to scream and shout.
And he feels the rain turn to sleet,
it was time for him and Death to meet.

Death came a'calling with intense pain,
frigid blades slice through flesh real slow,
at the last he feels one of his pet rats
as it starts to nibble at his naked toe.
Flies lay eggs in cuts on the near deceased
ensuring their maggots a royalist feast.

The last thing he saw as he died
the strangest of women walking his way.
Ice blue eyes of fire and malevolence
tinged with the anger of dismay.

vii.
She approached the scene like a stalking cat,
had felt her victims life drain away,
someone had got there before her,
she looked at the body with spiteful dismay.

viii.
A thousand lifetimes away
in another Time and place,
Grimly looks at two empty cradles
a sardonic smile upon his face.

ix.
Ice blue eyes of fire flash raw power,
she turns to see the shadow stop dead.
Fighting the cold creeping up her spine,
staring at the darkness straight ahead.

The shadow moves out of him,
lamp glow revealing his form.
Fire green eyes of malice show
he is the heart of a storm.

x.
She looked at him with interest and disdain
but her Sphere sang out a greeting song.
Somewhere in history Time and Space shifts.
She glances at the shadow, but he was gone.

Yet … She knew his name ...


Shivermage.




© Pagan Paul (13/10/18)
Friend or foe? Enemy or lover? Cliffhanger ;-)
Poem 6 in Judderwitch series. All at
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/28451/judderwitch/
.
Jessica Stull Dec 2018
Fire, ice, spit, crackle, break into slice
Crimson, spirited scented perfumes
Aching fury, lonesome soul
Thou shalt know the torment raging below
Redolent though, the remindful memories we hold
©Jessica Stull
Most of my thoughts Brew in the captivity  of the workplace
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