"refulgent" poems
Eyes of pale celadon
refulgent in the dusk
lips of skin so thin they grin
around the tips of tusk
Jagged saw-like teeth
beneath a sagging beastly jaw
the putrid reek of flesh and cheek
he's gobbled - nights before
His pointed nose will point his toes
when he snuffs you shuffling by
the fright enough will be so tough
your legs will lignify!
And once he's done he'll click his tongue
his mood enhanced by food
he'll walk home late and ululate
his deepest gratitude
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 11:05 AM UTC
kindness eats
least of all we defeat our enemies cheaply
steep the leaves in hot water gently
keep enemies close to you and weapons even closer
our friends are like sunbeams
I jump in the water
your sun-burned back is peeling
out loud you remind me
not to bend down too quickly
she hounds me with her questions
lessons on arithmetic
I’m so sick of it
histrionics and sonic lectures
his tricks are onto it
moronic manic accidents
red lions with long necks
deflect authority and wager on credit
the outcomes are certain
all will fade away indefinitely
understand this and measure your life
by breaths and not complexity
densities are hiding in visionary lightning
finding new faculties every moment
we are swift in our limitless
capacity for adaptation
a refulgent emulsion
immersed in water and poetry
under the highest authority
or just higher scrutiny
wrapped in a paranoid blanket
of heightened security
all is being watched right now
as judges redefine your beauty
if you are truly interested
in finding happiness
you must understand
that all magic is abraxas
and satisfaction unceasingly attacks this
as we collapse upon the backs
of ecstatic languages....
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 12:49 PM UTC
Inspired by a vintage ****** postcard from the 1920s - 30s:
The Muse sits resplendent
caressed in sepia tones and pastel cream
gilded with the glaze of a bygone era
her silk Charleston negligee
worn proud like a vintage ornament
perched on an aesthetically pleasing
shapely pert insolent *****
blossomed with tiny beads of sweat
the heat of such anticipation
entices the pearls of the ******
to pamper and pleasure their perversions
etched as if in a radiance of candlelight
the flickering limbs pulse their bloom
nimble fingers of dancing shadows
cupping the feline curves of a chaise longue
the purposefully out of place set piece
the fantasy of a gentleman's reading room
caked in casked sherry
and Nat Sherman cigar infused aromas
her elegant pose sumptuous reclining
elbow length satin gloves
sensually wrapped in wanton desire
two fingers clasp a Sorbranie Black Russian
smoked like a sultry gypsy
with a fervent demeanour
from a silver opera cigarette holder
beckoning with the cats eyes of mischief
over Pinced nez eyeglasses
with a fascination imbibed
in the praxis of passion
the peach skin of refulgent youth
directs the viewer downwards, slowly
survey each contour of olive skin
and stroke every hidden cleft of fabric
to glimpse the nubile thighs of grace
leading the eye to the arch of an ankle
slipped like a fitted glove
nestled in the cleavage of her calf
and the chastity of future wonderment
the forgotten photograph
captures a period in time
the memories of the muse
now in motionless existence
a demure allure forever frozen
once lost, but now
never forgotten
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 2:40 AM UTC
Hail, happy day, when, smiling like the morn,
Fair Freedom rose New-England to adorn:
The northern clime beneath her genial ray,
Dartmouth, congratulates thy blissful sway:
Elate with hope her race no longer mourns,
Each soul expands, each grateful ***** burns,
While in thine hand with pleasure we behold
The silken reins, and Freedom’s charms unfold.
Long lost to realms beneath the northern skies
She shines supreme, while hated faction dies:
Soon as appear’d the Goddess long desir’d,
Sick at the view, she languish’d and expir’d;
Thus from the splendors of the morning light
The owl in sadness seeks the caves of night.
No more, America, in mournful strain
Of wrongs, and grievance unredress’d complain,
No longer shalt thou dread the iron chain,
Which wanton Tyranny with lawless hand
Had made, and with it meant t’ enslave the land.
Should you, my lord, while you peruse my song,
Wonder from whence my love of Freedom sprung,
Whence flow these wishes for the common good,
By feeling hearts alone best understood,
I, young in life, by seeming cruel fate
Was snatch’d from Afric’s fancy’d happy seat:
What pangs excruciating must ******
What sorrows labour in my parent’s breast?
Steel’d was that soul and by no misery mov’d
That from a father seiz’d his babe belov’d:
Such, such my case. And can I then but pray
Others may never feel tyrannic sway?
For favours past, great Sir, our thanks are due,
And thee we ask thy favours to renew,
Since in thy pow’r, as in thy will before,
To sooth the griefs, which thou did’st once deplore.
May heav’nly grace the sacred sanction give
To all thy works, and thou for ever live
Not only on the wings of fleeting Fame,
Though praise immortal crowns the patriot’s name,
But to conduct to heav’ns refulgent fane,
May fiery coursers sweep th’ ethereal plain,
And bear thee upwards to that blest abode,
Where, like the prophet, thou shalt find thy God.
4.6k
Matrimonial stars in aisles of Auroral rainbows. Mizzling rays of twilights, arraying bays with skylines of lucent waves.
A plethora of scarlet roses reposed in florid clouds. Ashore the Giddy ocean in a gentle motion, caressing Mali garnets, mirroring effulgent lights, kissing the mountaintops before refulgent nights.
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 8:04 AM UTC
O mighty-mouth'd inventor of harmonies,
O skill'd to sing of Time or Eternity,
God-gifted organ-voice of England,
Milton, a name to resound for ages;
Whose Titan angels, Gabriel, Abdiel,
Starr'd from Jehovah's gorgeous armouries,
Tower, as the deep-domed empyrean
Rings to the roar of an angel onset--
Me rather all that bowery loneliness,
The brooks of Eden mazily murmuring,
And bloom profuse and cedar arches
Charm, as a wanderer out in ocean,
Where some refulgent sunset of India
Streams o'er a rich ambrosial ocean isle,
And crimson-hued the stately palm-woods
2.7k
All-Conquering Death! by thy resistless pow’r,
Hope’s tow’ring plumage falls to rise no more!
Of scenes terrestrial how the glories fly,
Forget their splendors, and submit to die!
Who ere escap’d thee, but the saint of old
Beyond the flood in sacred annals told,
And the great sage, whom fiery coursers drew
To heav’n’s bright portals from Elisha’s view;
Wond’ring he gaz’d at the refulgent car,
Then snatch’d the mantle floating on the air.
From Death these only could exemption boast,
And without dying gain’d th’ immortal coast.
Not falling millions sate the tyrant’s mind,
Nor can the victor’s progress be confin’d.
But cease thy strife with Death, fond Nature, cease:
He leads the virtuous to the realms of peace;
His to conduct to the immortal plains,
Where heav’n’s Supreme in bliss and glory reigns.
There sits, illustrious Sir, thy beauteous spouse;
A gem-blaz’d circle beaming on her brows.
Hail’d with acclaim among the heav’nly choirs,
Her soul new-kindling with seraphic fires,
To notes divine she tunes the vocal strings,
While heav’n’s high concave with the music rings.
Virtue’s rewards can mortal pencil paint?
No—all descriptive arts, and eloquence are faint;
Nor canst thou, Oliver, assent refuse
To heav’nly tidings from the Afric muse.
As soon may change thy laws, eternal fate,
As the saint miss the glories I relate;
Or her Benevolence forgotten lie,
Which wip’d the trick’ling tear from Misry’s eye.
Whene’er the adverse winds were known to blow,
When loss to loss ensu’d, and woe to woe,
Calm and serene beneath her father’s hand
She sat resign’d to the divine command.
No longer then, great Sir, her death deplore,
And let us hear the mournful sigh no more,
Restrain the sorrow streaming from thine eye,
Be all thy future moments crown’d with joy!
Nor let thy wishes be to earth confin’d,
But soaring high pursue th’ unbodied mind.
Forgive the muse, forgive th’ advent’rous lays,
That fain thy soul to heav’nly scenes would raise.
2k
Immortal clothing I put on
So soon as, Julia, I am gone
To mine eternal mansion.
Thou, thou art here, to human sight
Cloth’d all with incorrupted light;
But yet how more admir’dly bright
Wilt thou appear, when thou art set
In thy refulgent thronelet,
That shin’st thus in thy counterfeit!
1.8k
No more the flow’ry scenes of pleasure rife,
Nor charming prospects greet the mental eyes,
No more with joy we view that lovely face
Smiling, disportive, flush’d with ev’ry grace.
The tear of sorrow flows from ev’ry eye,
Groans answer groans, and sighs to sighs reply;
What sudden pangs shot thro’ each aching heart,
When, Death, thy messenger dispatch’d his dart?
Thy dread attendants, all-destroying Pow’r,
Hurried the infant to his mortal hour.
Could’st thou unpitying close those radiant eyes?
Or fail’d his artless beauties to surprise?
Could not his innocence thy stroke controul,
Thy purpose shake, and soften all thy soul?
The blooming babe, with shades of Death o’er-spread,
No more shall smile, no more shall raise its head,
But, like a branch that from the tree is torn,
Falls prostrate, wither’d, languid, and forlorn.
“Where flies my James?” ’tis thus I seem to hear
The parent ask, “Some angel tell me where
“He wings his passage thro’ the yielding air?”
Methinks a cherub bending from the skies
Observes the question, and serene replies,
“In heav’ns high palaces your babe appears:
“Prepare to meet him, and dismiss your tears.”
Shall not th’ intelligence your grief restrain,
And turn the mournful to the cheerful strain?
Cease your complaints, suspend each rising sigh,
Cease to accuse the Ruler of the sky.
Parents, no more indulge the falling tear:
Let Faith to heav’n’s refulgent domes repair,
There see your infant, like a seraph glow:
What charms celestial in his numbers flow
Melodious, while the foul-enchanting strain
Dwells on his tongue, and fills th’ ethereal plain?
Enough—for ever cease your murm’ring breath;
Not as a foe, but friend converse with Death,
Since to the port of happiness unknown
He brought that treasure which you call your own.
The gift of heav’n intrusted to your hand
Cheerful resign at the divine command:
Not at your bar must sov’reign Wisdom stand.
1.8k
Nights like tonight are the hardest;
Clear bluish black skies-
the deepest velvet cradling the full moon...
These nights are hardest, because I
still remember her silhouette
in silvery moonlight; My angel,
my darling, sleeping peacefully
as I cradle her close...
A dream come true, but now-
just a dream; One borne of
clear bluish black skies-
the deepest velvet cradling the full moon...
Nights like tonight are the hardest.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 1:56 AM UTC
Sun shines without a companion,
through trance falling into oblivion.
I never asked you to be mine.
You still wanted to sip from my wine.
The one who never sang his part of our love song,
The one who belongs to me, is gone,
I plead you all to leave me alone.
I could figure things out on my own,
If you leave me alone! Leave me alone!
Pardon me for my irrevocable sin,
to let a frivolous being like you to crawl on my skin.
I traveled through latitude and longitude,
following your refulgent eyes,
to my disappointment, ended up in lassitude
The one who promised to stay lifelong,
The one who belongs to me, is gone,
I plead you all to leave me alone.
I could figure things out on my own,
If you leave me alone! Leave me alone!
Come back to me,
Together we'll make it through any sea.
Once you're back home,
Don't ever leave me alone.
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 12:46 AM UTC
Winter has settled in my garden,
Why did I not see the frost arrive?
Ashamed, I begged the flowers' pardon,
But the roses are barely alive
As I lift each flower, the petals fall
Upon the ground that once nurtured them;
Summer's calm became a wintry squall,
A chilling frost has weakened the stem
And now the ground is covered in ice,
The tender buds have withered and died;
For what purpose was their sacrifice?
Such loathsome things leave me mystified!
My heart has not shifted its season,
Steady in its clime it still remains,
Love's broken promise - the heart's treason -
Caused the killing frost and icy rains
Witnessing my joy and grief collide,
Swift-winged angels urged me to depart
This garden where once love had denied
Loneliness admittance to my heart
Why does the refulgent moon still crest
O'er that path where I first touched his face?
Where even Death would be deemed a guest
Were I to expire in Love's embrace
But to that garden I'll not return,
I've locked the gate and destroyed the key;
Time will quell my longings as they churn,
Time will heal this searing agony
Love has turned me bitter, though more wise,
Yet, the wisdom of love comes too late:
Each night, waiting for the moon to rise,
Darkness finds me standing at that gate
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 12:18 PM UTC
Refulgent rays of silver light
Shine through the blackberry clouds,
Illuminating the shadows of the night.
It shines down on her stature proud
As she begins her journey away
From the betrayal of her avowed.
She lingers ’til the break of day,
Then lowering her hood and eyes
Walks the first steps of her way,
Towards the sun’s blush-pink rise.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 1:31 AM UTC
pale effigy
stalking rusted bars
in the emerald haze
of solitude, emblazoned,
Oh, such stark futility;
refulgent, and coveted
a mild severity of trauma
a cherry charred,
hollowed out and raw,
undetermined conviction
sulking on wilted arms;
engulf a shadow,
swallow it,
you can’t even endure yourself
drowning in instants,
pointless interactions
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 3:26 AM UTC
Being alone, I stare at the sky,
Wishing its laws were mine to command;
I would dim the moon's refulgent light --
Might that help Heaven to understand?
Just as the moon's radiance would be missed
If it were abducted from its realm,
So my ship sails with no guiding light --
Too long I've stood alone at the helm
Would the dreary woodland not rejoice
Hearing the song of one faithful bird?
Yet, alone I trudge down Life's harsh path,
Deprived of Love's reassuring word
Being alone, I find no reason
To greet the dawning day with a smile;
I see no sense in praying for strength
To carry my cross another mile
Being alone, I cannot believe
There's a God who feels pity for me;
Without Love's light my ship navigates
In the darkness . . . and I'm lost at sea
And if it's a sin to renounce faith
In a God who cares, then cast your stone!
No form of chastisement could be worse
Than this bitter pain of being alone
Nov 12, 2021
Nov 12, 2021 at 5:40 PM UTC
Caution taken (lathering
exposed epidermis with sun screen)
against harmful innocuous
rich (Times New Roman)
12 font ask tick sun yet sen sate)
refulgent radiant balm
unequivocal panacea medicinal luxuriant calm
on par with a old
sister wives tale remedy me late mom,
would magically construe
to alleviate home sickness qualm
post pledge initiation invocation befriending
Jason the Argonauts and Major Tom
dizzyingly zipping thru space
in search of the golden fleece,
(which acquisition
ranked as a no brainer)
which recollection, sans above exploit flashed
(at greased lightening speed) this peace
full May afternoon, a pitch perfect spring day,
one adequately oxygenated
air supply crowded house
legendary fete of the rising son momentarily
sol limb lee flared concluding with reverberating
(though decades elapsed
since fortuitous galactic heralded
world wide web panegyric
broadcast cosmos wide),
then with just as quick
memorialized recollection
prominently recalled,
said remembrance as things past
vis a vis denouement across Universe
with **** lifelong (black hole sun hopping)
capping achievement did surcease.
Ah...such blinding realistic provocation sparked
via pure imagination
upon one earthly terrestrial beast
Sunkist soaking raiment sequestered
within corner nook decreased
with onset of dusk, a mind bending
dreamy experience least
expected while nonchalantly fantasies take flight
basking (with robins)
in an angulated nook sky height
upon premises of Highland
Manor Apartment out of sight
from the buzzer (I may as well be
a million miles away),
thus poetic justice end trite.
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 10:10 PM UTC
a gentle foreboding:
bidding salutation
and a formless farewell,
into a toboggan of
a bottomless memory.
when things begin themselves
as fine objects, i see their
threats of fading. refulgent light traipsing back to its console.
a tangle of words congealing
to become a forest infested with
voices passing through and perfectly occupying space.
or when you open your mouth
as if you were to say something,
its almost perfectness,
its straightening out the fringes
of my soul to rumple them again,
blue head nostalgia peering
through a soft drape of water,
something as untranslatable as
the shatter of a wave with its forgotten foam slowly making its way down the stairs of jagged rocks, leaving no marks on the very core of thinking this.
when you are about to claw your way back to a memory's drop on the silence of still objects,
reducing all wounds to scars
and there will be no commune
to still its message or tuck its blaring clarity underneath tongues labyrinthine without anything to say, and that what remains to be
conceived is
that this silence
remains to
be something familiar,
like speech - or departures.
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 10:18 AM UTC
*she exhales
she is here
she is terrifying
she smells of fear
she breathes her mind
she justifies
her appetite by saying she is broken
all her forms
all her faces in this space
in all spaces are conjoining
are separating
all these years
and all these emotions
are diverging
from a single source
all roads follow
all dreams fade
all roads narrow
all hell is paid
now there shall be poetics
local agriculture
and music
in twilight
roses
keep the fragrances alive
her majesty
I asked her what would she like
she spoke about the fire
and the envy of her pride
join me for this supper
and i’ll tell you about the time
when the keeper of the music could no longer write
her eyes became two diamonds
refulgent in the moonlight
her daemon appetite
grew stronger
and hungered for your sight*
Mar 16, 2017
Mar 16, 2017 at 2:46 PM UTC
I found myself
walking a route
of euphoria
following the trail of rapture
tailing a sentiment
that I had hoped
would last forever
then you hit me;
a phantom vehicle
from the blindspot of my life
out of nowhere,
a hit and run with no warning
but for the quietude before
the impending collision
my body:
flung far from favor,
soaring for its own demise,
falling on its own crown,
turning into the earth
arms swinging forth,
grasping for something
to recompose on
not lying for want
fingers between rocks and pebbles
digging themselves into the dirt between,
grabbling gravel and grave
scratching back at the sharp pain
as I scramble for balance
my eyes,
covered in blood and blur,
are blinded by the truth refulgent overhead
commands reflected by flat faces standing over me-- beside me?
around me...
they turn me 'round myself
I lose my way
as quickly as it was found
breadth,
precious as love,
come back to me,
hold me now
deliver me from panic
and restore my sanity
from this collision of souls
Nov 30, 2019
Nov 30, 2019 at 7:20 AM UTC
“Let’s close it today than tomorrow, this way it is better”
Was the summery of a lost story in your last letter.
Time passed by since then, but I was waiting still
In a futile hope that you might come back to fill
The self consuming vacuum that echoed my heart,
The agonising solitude that was left to thwart
All the lovely hues in a pitifully miserable life,
I was standing at the edge, to take a plunge and dive.
Only then I realised that I have completed my task
And have nothing more left for anyone to ask
Why I changed so much that you find me new,
A totally changed personality in everyone’s view.
I rose again from the ashes of my own deeds
In a vengeful fury of my own basic needs.
It is then I learnt, to provide a space for time
To unfold the magic and make the world sublime,
The true essence of unconditional love
Over the battle ravaged world like a dove.
I am what I am, strong, heartless and rude
A battle hardened warrior whose love is crude.
Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 8:31 AM UTC
Your matter dissolves
Before my eyes
Disclosing
To me
A
Paradise...
A
Refulgent Pear
Within a shell,
Now
Liberated
From its
Mundane CELL.
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 6:06 PM UTC
You are in my mind and in my heart
and in reality we are never apart
though in forgetfulness I go my separate way
only to return again after I've gone astray.
When our need is great
and we just can't wait
we turn to You with all our might
regardless of whether we are right
asking of Thee many things with much zeal
irrespective if they are imagined or real.
You listen to our requests like a loving mother
and supply all our needs like a knowing father.
As children to their elders we relate to You
and You resemble a friend who is always true.
The light in the darkness that we seek You are
like an ever present solace You are never far
Your refulgent nature is the essence of our soul
few there have been who have made You their goal.
__________________________________________
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC
In the blue distance, gleaming, painted with glorious patterns
reflected in the refulgent sunset,
come the surfboards amidst
the swell
the froth
the crashing waves
that rise and fall.
Crashing, rushing, babbling in tune that
echoes and re-echoes in the evening softness
to dance in joyful harmony.
And this, this crystal world that I have seen
in patchwork majesty spread wide upon the shore.
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 1:09 PM UTC
Such a peaceful night.
Fireflies flaring around the gloom.
The moon glitters
as the twilight flowers bloom.
She lays quietly
and listens to the crickets chirp.
Soft sounds echo in her ears
and nothing can disturb.
Light shimmers on her blue dress
and reflect on her cerise hair.
The stillness keeps her at ease
not a strain, not a care.
She breathes the misty air
of this perfect, breezy night.
She opens her blueberry eyes
at this refulgent, shining light.
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 2:47 PM UTC
Everything is poetry and poetry is everything.
I~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~l
Everything is poetry and poetry is everything.
Variegated and multicoloured rich rhyming
Every line a rich tapestry of finest work.
Rhyming refulgent words brilliantly shining
Y-chromosomes with male characteristics
The male poems less feminine than the female
How do you tell the gender of a rampant poem
In everything is poetry and poetry is everything
Naughty poems are food and drink to youths
God fearing Catholic Poems are ubiquitous
In praise of God these poems are school fed.
Sunday schools singing their hearts in praise.
Prayers set to the music of the mighty *****
Oh the Victorian poets were the masters of it.
Everything is poetry and poetry is everything .
The modern poets have lost the art of praise
Redemptions are hard achieved in gods name
Yet more poetry written on a toilet wall.
As six mumf ago they cuddent even spel poet
Now by Jove they are one. Hallelujah.
Desuetude books of self published remainders
Poetry being all things n all things being poetry
Osmosis of a dilution of simple talent lost.
Epistemological studies of poetic knowledge
Tied up in blue ribbons in chronological order
Rarely seeing the light of day on a dusty shelf
Years on a collection of dead poets published
In everything is poetry and poetry is everything
Sagas of eponymous hero’s before a nation
Escalading castle walls to rescue fair maidens
Vexatious poetry going nowhere but hanging
Every stanza a cliff-hanging story of old.
Refineries built to recycle old poems for new
You know everything is poetry as I have stated
There is not so much on web-sites ever seen
Hundreds of poems viewed n little critique
It gets brushed over with a simple thumbs up
Now next time you wonder ...Can I inspire. ?
Gainsay with gusto the death of the verse.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
November 16th 2018.
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 7:59 AM UTC