"primly" poems
Donor of precious breath and dappled miracles;
'Tis virtuous Lord that sends the kissy graces---
Those which we pride fully see here in blessing hues,
Of florets that primly spring the sweet daughter's eyes.
When Saves the sinless face of her; the mirthful thought-
So watchful is purity in cheerful weightless hours,
And nestled above the innocent columns of bright-
Radiance, which are seen on growth's careful corners.
Once you held the esteem when you have watched-
The birds with surprising eyes, your baby feet crept
Silently on the corridor and wind a song tuned,
As softly murmur’d on your own balmy ears to apt.
O' a real bead of ruby, that marks parents proud,
On those starry glances that quench any a thirsty mind
So as your humble nods and tiny frame allowed-
Them to seek those tender hands, where I, kisses find.
Like a flower that spring up early above the leaves,
To spread the fragrance so peacefully to fill the air,
Where the morns latest star,that shines to active lives,
Will throw his pointed beam to enlighten you fair.
Life can teach you a success, by nature you must grow;
If Divine that your eyes can see, and divine will,
Be ears can hear, to show you how to love and sow,
The seeds of compassion and mutual respect still~
What else I compare with those smiles to be adored-
For she has to the world so happy-happy love.
O' precious little girl--- crawl to your sleeping bed,
And mother will tell you a moral story, so motive.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 1:08 PM UTC
Mishmash, that's my life sort of, I'm isolated
Companion, acquaintance, colleague
I left them, primly, nothing worth of trust
Not that I know, how many out there, bungled
It's been months since, I locked up myself
by my realm of picturesque creation
Zero delusion, illusion, hallucination
Not to tell no one, where am I
Glad to initiate, these, quarters of sanctuaries
Landed massive words, of
aspirations, ambitions, inspirations
lift up my life, soul, spirit
dwelling there, a hope
No matter how wrecked my previous is
I'm eager to take on new adventure.
Life must go on
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 8:00 AM UTC
I need a new vocabulary
these words aren't enough anymore
it's holding an ocean
in my cupped hands
The syllables erupt botanically
until the air is a garden
so I prune cautiously
three red roses
to signify primly
every forest in the world
I'm not a romantic.
I'm an architect feverishly pacing
with visions of the first cathedral
I'm a scientist riddled mad
with want of fathoming space
I'm a skeptic who is poisoned
by the mystery of death
the technology is antiquated
love outdates itself
I love you is no longer enough
but it's all I ever say
It's every word I have ever said.
May 17, 2012
May 17, 2012 at 10:35 PM UTC
her it
the soporific
very dreaming
split of
easy night
falls so lovely
brushed of balmy
hair short
in tender heap
of girlness heat
it the deftness
of a wrist
hangs
softly loose
uncurled
lightly the fingers
in
her such steeply wonderful brain
a song is me
by love's lips it
i
the earth the
night
echo primly
kissing
and
couth
so a fancy
is all the world
to her in lovely slumber's keep
such as i would like to enter
and of its beauty reap
a flower on who would rise
all youth in me to crown
and lay my middle finger
in crimson parting's drown
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 3:13 AM UTC
With Ma Lil **** Dill
one bilabial fricative smacking
tongue thrusting (lizard like)
indefatigable prelapsarian
Garden of Eden dwelling primate
doth pine with two lipped treating zest
for Eve fun juiced a tasty droplet, wrest
ting kitty meowing Mz er loo,
sans verboten fruit Yukon die vest
via jump starting
a hovering damn
electric kool aid acid test
Hair and there, a bare naked lady attired
in her birthday suit, the sexiest
plump ***** roseate
sear suckered ******* trickling milky nectar
when casting shadowed umbra at rest
thirsting, unleashing, vaunting,
et cetera viz prurient quest,
whereby this rambunctious
***** bull lever severely oppressed
condemned with life sentence
of ****** solitude, nest
souled (sorely testing
agonizing Victorian modest
tee primly and properly
tortures carnal temptation lest
surrendering syllabus "C" ) even jest
a jot, cuz tis pure torture restraining
feral, hormonal, integral hankering
to stoke libido at Parochialism be hest
thus, aye feel unfairly deprived,
no hello kitty will be guest
unsure how helpful "getting off my chest"
works thee unnatural tethered
****** suppression, perhaps best
left unmentioned, encumbered
with jiggly, flabby droopy breast
works, and unwanted love handles
state of reined swiftly tailored
harried stylishly groomed
FitBit bridled uncertainty I attest.
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 10:00 PM UTC
wet stoops
wet sleeps
down beside
vibrant hulks
of day into night becoming
a persimmon fleshed in robes
of sweetish musk of raging dark:
that blind canny o' comely marsh
where sweats tallly the brisk frigid
smirk of winter coming into between–
i cannot fathom
nor wonder 'pon a thing more
violent **** or primly stolen
than the absurd tumor of suddenly
which every immense second of life
Is.
and how do i call it?
how do i name it by itself?
is it nameable?
is demanded some strict finitude of immutable logic?
or is impossibly monikered in nothing short of illimitable self?
(and who have I been? have i been myself? where did i begin? and shall i ever end in knowing?)
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 4:19 AM UTC
God’s way is hard
Sheila’s big sister said
but that is what
I want to do
and be a nun
Sheila tied her school tie
and let her sister yak
in the background
to her thoughts of John
and pretended he
had been there
in her bedroom
as she had dressed
(not watching her sister)
his hazel eyes
scanning her she imagined
especially after
her strip wash
not sure which convent yet
the sister went on
but one strict
and far from human
touch or noise
Sheila stood in front
of the dressing table mirror
and gazed at herself
pushing her sister’s words
from her as best she could
but if John
had been scanning her
she knew she’d have blushed
and hid her naked self
with a towel or dressing gown
despite one part of herself
thinking it
and boys
the sister said
have to be watched
they are usually after
the one thing
Sheila damped a finger
with her tongue
and slid across an eyebrow
thing?
she said
what do you mean
one thing?
o never you mind
that now little sister
just trust to God
and put boys aside
the sister brushed her hair
and set herself
up primly
with the grey dress
thing though
Sheila said
what thing?
ask Mum she’ll say
I expect
the sister said dully
and went out the room
like some drabness on legs
Sheila sighed
and gazed at herself
in the mirror again
adjusted her glasses
on her nose
and thought on John
being at school
and thought unkindly
her sister the fool.
Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 4:53 AM UTC
Enter discreetly, and proceed to take a pew;
Artsy fartsy culture camo lines the wall
like morning dew. A raptured window
sits atop a glazing gall, enthralling all;
As fetished hook propels, sinks in and pulls you through.
Decked obsequis with dire strands of self set, alight;
Mixing murmers; Churning, gurning grunts and groans,
stoking sight. Essence blossoms
effervescently, into warbled drone;
Symphony of souls, atoned, erupting, blood accrued might.
Dark set eyes behind the counter, counts another crop;
Foppish foolery as skin set sore adored
by boorish mop; Head of hair
aligned, entwined, principle annulled but ******
Evoked Muse's invocation, released enormous slop adored.
Finally a noise devoid of touch, howls reified;
Chair despair sets into tumbled, mumbled call,
plea defied. Shoddy surgeon's hand
demands, gropes alleyway to shadowed hall,
Sits abreast infernal mechanites for deified brawl.
Creeping shadows come'a'peeping, Uncle Tom'a'weeping wonder,
blunders through the choice of sticky sheen
Resists the proper plunder. Whirring warrior
begins assault on castles primly stoked for seen;
Seams amended, blackened blood serene provoking chunder stream.
Followed Zeitgeist back to Black. Slow daunter back to blue;
Repairs conceptions of the Self within the mirror visored stew;
Anew the reckonings of where and why, Oh how freshly do they die
As left to see another in thyself, and loudly to decry:
Decry the aspects of bad health, no longer put upon the shelf
Stealthy pox and watermarks depart to leave aesthetic wealth;
Dealt in depths and crepts of cunning folk behind the trademarked lens
Obssessed with visibility, maneuvures us towards our end(s).
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 8:33 PM UTC
Rainy Spring Morning
Rainy spring morning is older now
slower, less inclined to bound
up the down staircase or greet
dawn with a drop jaw slap
to the forehead, night
somehow no longer young, drinking
whole days in breathless gulps from a pail
knobby throat exposed, bobbing
lewd and naked, heedless
of a sopping shirt, unaware
exactly when he took to sipping primly
from the lip of the minute cup
a careful hand cupped to a careless chin
catching the gesture
in the window
above the sink
beneath the sleeve
of light that smears charcoal features
and quotes from windows past
the glow that drew him
on his way to school
tucked back in the shadow of huddled
trees, new leaves sluicing rain in whispers
onto the backs of sidewalk worms.
Rainy spring morning twists the band
on his cudgel finger
mate to the one you wear
dialing in this hypnotic spell of molten gold
a boy for a moment
lingering in front of a house
upturned palm catching creamy light
that runs through his fingers
and pools around his half buckled boots.
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 8:28 PM UTC
Forehead spread, primly kissed--
the crushed gentleness of a sleeper
who's walked wakefulness to ol'
silences.
Made meek by mad sways of logic,
so much day to be had mid the weak
grip of the hour.
Always the more, always the less--for
having knelt to what's unspeakably spent,
sign upon sign sealed over.
Bound by the luster of preciousness, a soppy
flash in mesh.
Something therein cries: furnish the mark,
that I may kiss it.
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 12:25 PM UTC
Colluding on this we join in a kiss.
Following on because after all
after the fall there has to be something.
About the details,
I
never read the small print,
anyway you'd have to squint and
pull a face like a gurner to learn a
thing from them.
We continue in ignorance
and in bliss we collide
to kiss again,
Doctor said, it's good for muscular pain
and I believe him.
Questions arise amongst other things
and she answers me primly
in actions that bring me
to more questions.
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 10:43 AM UTC