"pristinely" poems
She took my hand and followed me
through the trees,
under the archway made of ivy
(flanked by pristinely carved hedges)
into the vast, open field
which met the ethereal red sun
on the horizon.
We sat in the fresh grass,
cool in the evening air.
All the while we stayed silent,
just admiring the untouched space.
Each blade of grass before us
swayed gently,
tantalisingly...
Time had stopped
but everything was still living.
Still moving.
As if this place were not included
in Time's perseverance.
I didn't want it to be,
it was too important to me.
It occurred to me then
that it wasn't this place
that I valued the most at all
It was this moment.
And I captured it.
Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 2:50 PM UTC
It didn't make sense
It felt Fingers
Chain link fence
So the moon dim
Gibbus tide riddle
Keep your wheel in the hairpin
Bite a hook
You'll be my friend
Go ahead
Spike the ocean
A drop of salt blood
The wolf of horizon runs
Spilling fangs of
red dwarf sun
Can you water:
Crash against the rock
Until pieces of you break off
Pristinely lying on my skin
Think air until you hear
Grandeur breath of leaves
Mountain or dog
Sing songs of love
Goodbye
White cheek
Spun in moonlight
Foot to the path
Song on the tounge
Free til I'm dog
Whiskey til I'm drunk
Hold my breath
Count to ten
Blue eyes / begin again
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 11:49 PM UTC
I always swear work doesn’t affect me.
Trauma?! HA! Never.
And for the most part I am ok.
But suddenly I realized as I counted every single calorie; every single bite… scrubbed every surface and washed my hands far too many times..
The fear of gaining weight; of relying on everyone else to care for me…
Just might be coming from the living people whose bodies are actively rotting. Flesh and fluids dripping off the sides of my stretcher.
My ambulance regularly becoming a biohazard until I’ve scrubbed every inch.
Listening to the sounds of weeping patients on their way to the ER for the 5th time this month because no body cares about them.
It’s not death that scares me. Not loss of limbs or sight that worries me. It’s not having anyone who wants to love me. Not having anyone willing to speak for me when I am broken. It’s the idea my mind can be pristinely sharp but my body defeated and needing someone. But no body cares.
That possibility is petrifying.
-ARI
Mar 22, 2023
Mar 22, 2023 at 11:56 AM UTC
There are tantalizing visions of an era long forgotten
By the ones who remember the days
Of sweet music that drifted onto the verandahs
Into the imaginations and hearts of the ones who played
Echoing laughter resounds from ivy covered walls
Touched by the distant memories that pass
Through the cracks left unnoticed by the shimmers of light
As they fall on the sweet summer grass
A wild crimson rose still grows upon the dim edges
Of the latticework now peeling with age
A remnant of immense beauty so pristinely perfect
Still opening its blooms to the stage
Incessant tales of the wonderful feelings brought to light
As the lovely music lifts to the sky
Brings every heart to sing as if they know the tune
Which these memories have left you and I
Jun 11, 2010
Jun 11, 2010 at 6:58 PM UTC
The words tumble down so easily
cascading through his realm,
A realm of smooth enchantments
A realm of dripping gold
gold of skin,
of air and self
He himself inspires,
enables and enthralls.
spinning her quite carefully with fingers of delight
swirling and twirling around they go
he moves - she rises
as dust or mist - so light
a tornado
of stars, of bright, of sea
He directs the spirals of chaos,
she plunges in and the warmth splashes through,
to soul from body, a ghostly path.
Another worldly wonder,
Another tender thrill.
He is of soft stone
pristinely carved
A delicate hand knew how to mold
earth, fire, ocean, and breeze, to create
a being pieced together with gold
Pure and lustrous, drawing her in
like rain or wind, she cannot control
her bold attraction to his realm of gold.
May 16, 2013
May 16, 2013 at 10:17 PM UTC
His love washes over me /
Pristinely /
Drenching me, deluging me /
In surging airborne streams /
A parcel of wind greets me /
& raises me to Him. /
In the Light of Dreams, of sweet reverie, /
There I find Him. /
Beside me he fulminates /
Making me adamantine, /
Diamonded /
Glistening resplendently. /
A place of concealment, a sanctuary, /
He drenches me in His Light, baptismal, /
Cascades me, /
In its torrential downpour. /
In stillness there is revelation, /
In stillness there is clarity, /
Though our hearts tremulous, may quake & tremble, /
He awakens us anew each morn. /
Dec 10, 2023
Dec 10, 2023 at 3:10 PM UTC
you look a little lost drunk toylike demure
stumbling doll pretty i peer you cutting
through gnashing heaped throats i spy
your gangling figure ungainly miniature
legs tottering deftly sensual upon your
hips
you slice stupidly through the tiny
hot music and you look so eatable you
look so nice and pristinely garbled perfect
unkempt ***** pleasant uneasy
i'll catch you by your languorous laxing
limbs i'll ****** you from falling hard
into the smarting wet floor i'll bring your
feverish nonsense Redder mouth
to mine and we'll do something perhaps
hotter
something, perhaps, louder
Feb 24, 2012
Feb 24, 2012 at 4:32 PM UTC
I'll bury letters in the ground to let them rest in pieces
They'll decompose before the world finds their meaning
Their remnants shall intertwine with the seedlings of tomorrow
And take healthy root to sprout the beginning of the illusion
It will grow and grow and reach to kiss the sky
It just exists ignorantly free of the magnitude of why
No questions asked as time will pass, a ripple in a dream
Blink twice and the dust settles riddled and pristinely clean
All is flux and our celestial sphere is making the rounds
Words seem mundane under the magnifying glass
Archaic masochisms of our mind to help try and cope
Notions shall invade to question the cyclically divine
What's the rush? We're all on the same spinning vessel
Chase your tails in the Almighty dog and pony show
Enlightenment pins the Donkey's smile on the nail
As the hammer brings down the cataclysmic blow
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 5:14 AM UTC
Just a little kiss he said
His draped arm around her shoulders squeezed , shlumping in towards her.
I don't know.....she said.
Her innocent wide eyes and tightly curled hair were frightened.
Come on, don't be a ***** he said,
eyes droopy, voice smelling condescending and aroused.
He tasted his lips before flashing his teeth.
Strong fingers locked into her pristinely wound tendrils
shoving a resisting skull towards his probing lips.
She tensed, squealed, tried to turn away
but he only pulled her closer like quick sand, or an anaconda.
His hand immediately rounded second base, clamping onto her tender ******* like a bear trap
before kneading them and moving to the hem of her blue dress.
She muffled a scream into his mouth, but the black hole just absorbed and incinerated the sound.
His hand travelled up her knee, to her thigh
which was soft, and clean.
He thought they probably smelled like Ivory soap and angel laughs.
The further north his hand travelled, the higher pitched the squeals became.
He wanted to experiment how far he needed to move until her voice became audible only to dogs.
He smiled into her cheek
he was a glorious, powerful tiger and she was an unassuming gazelle with a limp.
Really, he was doing her a favor
ending her misery before someone less humane devoured her tragic beauty.
He bit her neck, rendering her paralyzed
with fear.
Come on, don't be such a ***** he said,
Nobody likes a *****
May 25, 2012
May 25, 2012 at 5:44 PM UTC
If you could encapsulate a precise feeling
Enlarge it, breath it in, hold it for a little
Longer....wrap you arms around it.....
what would it be....?
Would it be a crystalised memory?
a
Photograph worn at the edges from long ago
Held touches pristinely varnished?
a
Song captured mid verse? whose notes bear witness
Forever black stalks glooped in circular feet
Would it be....
a
Atmospheric winged horizon, caught out as a bubble
Links the past
Yet here, what would be the exact nature of your
bubbliography?
a
Winged bird, a pleasure dome, soft far off yonderings of
a
Soul searcher locating peace everlasting
But...what peace?....dare I ask you...would you give up for another
Handing you choice, choose one to......
hold with memories
Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 2:59 PM UTC
cruel, and yet dainty to the touch
shattering, sparkling -- these wondrous things of yesterday
caressing the aching -- breaking parts of me
words and pictures
faces and dreams
i wish to bring it all back
to feel the weight of what was the world then draping over me
pristinely etched on with what was -- memories
when even the phrase "i miss you" held no bounds
it is much lighter in my chest compared to when i hold these
these...
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 9:25 AM UTC
a therapist
prescribed me rose-tinted glasses.
she told me
my view was too blue and the pink
would counteract my countenance
so i would
finally
see normally.
a “shift of perspective”
she called it. i didn’t
tell her that the color i saw wasn’t blue, it was gray; i didn’t
tell her i had fifty pairs at home, perched pristinely on the vanity; i didn’t
tell her i pressed them onto my nose and stared into the mirror; i didn’t
tell her the only shift of perspective
was the way the world
became blurry,
water welling up and
flinging a flimsy filter
onto my mirror when
i realized this wasn’t working,
this wouldn’t work.
instead, i smiled
and added another pair to my collection –
this time,
it was different. this time,
when i put them on and
nothing changed,
i convinced myself that it did.
i swore i saw swirls of scintillating salmon in the sky,
swore sunrise was less montonous and sunset less muted.
“it’s gonna get better, it’s better, i’m better” ran through
my mind, up
my throat, out
my mouth and swirled
in the air and coated every surface until
my breath was reduced
to those words:
it’s gonna get better, it’s better, i’m better.
and each day battered the words,
each hour chipped away at their strength,
each minute batted them out of the air until
i was lightheaded from oxygen deprivation, stuck
gasping with a gaping mouth in a vacuum.
when i shattered my rose-tinted glasses
and used the shards to carve
two neat little lanes up my forearms, when
i smeared the rivulets of
blood across my eyes –
because a pink filter hadn’t worked, but maybe,
maybe red would –
i whispered to myself:
it’s gonna get better, it’s better, i’m better.
Aug 8, 2017
Aug 8, 2017 at 11:35 PM UTC
knees go weak summer very smile
spUrts
over: two legs, skinny hips, a mile
of stomach, daintily ******* neck
and a chin(also)above sprouts a nose
nice how it flush face with
saliently bursts ivory white 'neath
limpid fissures of greenly sharp roundness
(eyes)that flutter, held by cheeks as
smooth and innocently as driven
snow sparkles just a bit in the summer
between the **** hillocks of my
thighs a mouth pristinely admits
me
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 9:39 PM UTC
Howdy mate, you got some time?
I will buy you a drink,
90ml neat,
if you be a lamb, old sports,
and lend me your company prime.
You see, I am dazed,
awfully blazed,
stunned to the core
the things you will lore
makes me want to tear this heart,
and pull the strings apart.
Don’t you judge so soon,
for I have the calmness of the moon,
but you know the whole story,
how moon survives on star’s glory,
and the cosmos has been rude,
and I don’t mean to be a *****
For it gave me my sunshine
so gorgeous, pristinely divine.
But feels like entoiled by the fate,
oh, how badly I hate
this bafflement, I have conceived,
unable to let go things I have perceived.
Doesn’t that make a demon out of my soul
unwilling to let go the stigmas
and let love be my destiny,
my gift and my goal.
Wait, don’t leave, please stay
the refill in on its way,
Will you speak, if you wish,
say words I am craving for,
that will strangle my dilemma
and all my pain will perish.
ummmm…
you are a colossal idiot…..
yes, not to miss a whiner, so profound
stuck in someone’s past,
who is gonna make you feel warm,
and hold you till the time unbound.
I spit on your coffin,
if you could ever afford one
for doubting her sanctity,
you pathetic hypocrite *****
Yes, the left behind in the past
and there is so much to hide, in fact,
she opened herself to you,
coz she had her integrity intact.
She could have had with you her way,
and left you in utter dismay,
but she chose not to sting
coz that is not her thing.
You don’t yet understand her, do you?
Else, you won’t be in this lousy place
in a tuxedo that you rented
talking to a stranger, seeking solace.
Don’t get cold feet, have some pride,
Don’t you dare let her slide,
coz I have a woman, to whom I surrendered
and life has been one dreamy ride.
Now, here she comes,
cradled in her fur
I am so sure about her,
you too don’t be a blur.
Do the right thing,
I hope you will,
the *** is gone
and here comes the bill.
Feb 3, 2018
Feb 3, 2018 at 7:20 PM UTC
i have no other means to see,
only through the intervening vacuities
of the word — out in the field
there seems to be no end seething
to the very beginning;
these words now
appear limbless yet still make
their way deftly, scrunching
against the wall enough to toss the
body out of sleep.
i have nothing to offer
only my despair
and in this, myself, have seen all
too pristinely without a sensible trace
of fear or a mitigated feeling
i am all words and no conversing,
addled by the thoroughness of it,
ample warmth of a makeshift fire
thwarting the involuntary shadow there,
hiding behind the renegade
of thought or a portentous rearing
of imagination's hearth:
i am all words, no other than this alone—
having achieved this noble sense of
swift perpetuity, no other means to
this end than the poetry of impetus.
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 4:47 AM UTC
I am spatial, /
I understand, /
I fathom, /
Through distance, space, & time, /
I see clearly, pristinely through you & I. /
'Do not forsake me, /
I am everywhere,' /
He says to me, /
And I unfalteringly, /
Unwaveringly, I believe /
In Him, are treasures: /
The opulence, /
The affluence, the direction, /
Of one-million /
Guiding stars. /
You are a sign, /
A beacon of hope to the lightbearers; furthermore, /
A portent, /
Ominous, pernicious, /
To the Cimmerian shadow. /
I know you /
You, /
I love /
You, /
For that I am grateful. /
What is love? /
An existential vagary? /
Perhaps not. /
It is real, it is tangible, /
When He is in my arms. /
Mi amour, /
Mi amour, /
Mi amour, /
Mi amour, /
Me encanta, mi amour. /
Dec 18, 2023
Dec 18, 2023 at 3:15 PM UTC
***** white cap, once pristinely perfect but carelessly soiled by ignorant hands
chipping green walls, a gentle calming color breaking away piece by piece to flaunt its original ugly palette
Socks with holes, big and small, taken for granted and willingly allowed to continue in poor shape
generously filled bottles of cologne, unused and untouched, a dream presentability accompanied by aroma shattered by melancholy indifference
empty soda cans, an adoration for sweet sensation followed by a bittersweet regret in rotten yellowed teeth
grease stained shirts, a consequence of gluttonous irresponsibility as well as a tragic reminder of one's forgotten delicate care
wrinkled oxford shirts and lost pairs of cufflinks, to lose touch with formalities and absorb a lifestyle without need to dress with pride
this house has no coasters, tables are decorated with ring stains interlocking, each one the same short story: "whoops"
once glimmering and shining silver, tarnished and neglected, now shine dully whilst sitting idly untouched
hair is a tangled mess, face is chaotically barbaric, body is an instrument out of tune, a person whose had a falling out with biological pleasantries
where the ambition to improve becomes absent, an abysmal house suffers and low ambition discourages change of mindset
a ***** mirror, in it the reflection of a stranger, eyes with no spark and an empty expression
frankly, it would appear its visage happier than mine, our faces and our surroundings look the same but the cloud that looms over me cannot be reflected
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 7:37 PM UTC
The best thing about life
Is being surrounded
By your charmingness
The exuberant feelings
I feel when I see you
When I look at your lips
And fantasize about
Kissing you all time
Your eyes shine
Like a hot, long-lasting fire
At night
Your elegant dark goatee
Is where my fingers
Need to be
To feel your masculinity
Rousing my being
Let us engage
In deep, fascinating conversations
Boy, you are amazing
That way that your parlance
Streams pristinely
Makes me adore
Glorious, tameless charm
Oct 12, 2021
Oct 12, 2021 at 8:51 PM UTC