"resplendent" poems
raindrops faintly laughing as they prance
along the leaves
watercress dancing gently twirling slowly
in the creek
a deer’s neck softly brushing like a whisper
against a tree
the sun is rising in the forest with hushed tones
of red on green
a brusk barista whose soul is wounded wants to cry
but bravely greets
the first blush of sweet dawn's morning ignites resplendent
things unseen
©2016janetaylor
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 6:52 PM UTC
Your caress is silky and creamy like butter
And my darling, I'm afraid that your lingering touch will give me diabetes
Your heart crumbles like flour when I press mine against it
And beads of sugar hang like dew upon your lashes
Maybe if I blended you up into cookie dough
And baked you at 350 for 15 minutes until you were golden brown
Then I wouldn't be afraid to stroke your resplendent face
Perhaps I wouldn't wince at the thought of pressing my ear against your chest
Just to hear your confectionary heart quiver
And there wouldn't be the slightest trepidation when I kissed your intoxicating tears
But I'm afraid that I'll leave you in for too long
And your saccharine core will harden and reek of soot
And with the slightest touch, you'll be reduced to ash
And your cremated remains will get frightened at the accusatory wail of the smoke detector
And they'll seek refuge in my oven's crevices
Never to be seen again
Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 7:35 PM UTC
•
My love and all,
God's angel,
My refuge and comfort,
You're the home that keeps me safe,
The one who stays beside me,
Even in times of storms, you fight them with me valorously.
My bestfriend, my peace, my forever,
Life is so resplendent and sublime when you came,
Excruciation seems so easy to surmount,
For you are there with me , our love shields us from harm.
You are the firefly that visited me in my dark prison,
You’ve illumined me with your shimmering being,
An angel that wrap me with pure white robe,
You’ve enclosed me dearly,
My countenance gleam as I felt your love burning me from the inside.
Yes, I will wait my lover,
Years and years plus forever and eternity,
Even in the second life,
In the gates of heaven, in that heavenly realm,
I will wait and hold you tight forevermore,
Nothing and no one will ever take us apart,
You're the one I only love,
The one whom I will keep dearly in my heart infinitely,
The one whom I'll risk all just to keep you secure and joyous,
The one whom I will grow old with,
The one whom I will spend everlasting with,
And I love you infinity + forever,
‘Cause you are the one preordained for me, my soulmate and king.
with love <3
© Earl Jane
♥ E.J.C.S.
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 5:48 AM UTC
Civilized life is rigged, O land-dwellers!
With landmines hidden
in trails of Society's doctrine,
'Too often is it stepped on,
Too often does it explode.'
Blowing constitutions to smithereens,
Where you then rummage within your nucleus
to piece together your scattered jigsaw,
Misplacing your natural elements,
Overcasting your ability to side with beauteous aspects in simplicity—
Of those ethereal-resplendent butterflies.
Disillusioned on land thus is you (the complex you).
Let go—
Rise above your materialistic graves—
Walk on air!
My kindred wisps
Walk on air!
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 4:56 AM 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
The ground bubbled neath, February's awakening
stoic crocuses stood water deep,
so that capriciousness was revealed
The fill ***** over flowed.
So certain the path walked
she wove aconites into her hair
to unghost the prevailing snowdrops.
The dogwood a resplendent beacon
vies to complete the cycle .
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 6:26 PM UTC
∙∙∙◦◦•◎•◦◦∙∙∙
Caribbean blue sail's a galaxy
rivers gushing, mumbling for an eternity
reflections of Love forms to thee
Suddenly silence adumbrate
aesthete, A lustful tint of Peruvian trees
petrichor whiffs of earth's virginity
A syzygy that I can't apprehend
but, can fully appreciate its denouement
rebirth of once I fell in love been
Listen to its sotto voce ruffling
preterlabent streams, resplendent hymns
humming grasses cues to sing
Upon the mountain tops hidden
rocks of geos sighting a treasure within
only to discover lore’s of forbidden
Cascading trees whispered a cold
a journey I never knew how to go as told
trap between floras along the road
Propinquity of my eyes closing thin
soul reserved for death, till breath hops in
trodden a land ****** for me to begin
A minstrel with hands like marbles
strung a fiddle of tessellated symphonies
open wonders the eyes never seen
A bouquet of amaranth revealed
the longing heart found someone of new
sighs my feelings and away I strew
Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 3:22 AM UTC
As dark clouds thunder on a grey day,
Resounding across the arid plains,
I hear the loud cries of a bird,
It cuts across the rhythmic drumming of the clouds,
He's quiet for a moment, then I hear him again.
Through the trees I see him,
Royal, an electrifying metallic blue,
A peacock, stunning, strutting,
Fanning his train of feathers,
Eyespots of majesty, stroked with mossy hues.
He dances in a flamboyant display,
In spot light, as lightening flames the sky above,
Nonchalant, a blue crested head turns with pride,
His ornate train, shimmering, beckoning, to and fro,
His moves, a courtship ritual of love.
His iridescent trail woos in style,
A life of its own in its opaline shades
Golden, blue, brown and green,
Colors of the earth, gloriously resplendent,
A gathered spectacle in his plumage.
As drops of rain touch the earth,
He is still high on the wings of romance,
His feet in motion,
His feathers spread for his mate,
Quivering, glimmering a love dance.
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 10:57 AM UTC
*stacking the arrows in piles
a triangle of fuego
furnaces blaze fire
infinite reminders
of the morning after
shafts of light
drift from window panes
remake our names in
god’s slumbering veins
from here to there a whisper
or was it a word
fellow companions
have you heard
the threadbare sisters
took their turns
climbing mountains in order
that we could learn
the ways
of green hearted sun-scrapers
sweet little dangers
fellow death chasers
full of music
givers of blooming veils
bouquets of snow and hail
almond shaped eyes
resplendent thighs
and a mind as pure as a lake
during an alaskan winter
in the frozen splinter
trees are taken from their roots
the women are bleeding
weaving you the meat and the story
outsiders are cast from clay into statues
with feminine bodies
curving like cotton candy
i choose to impress you
repeat the compliments
that land on empty stomachs
string together words
like a rosary of sweet nothings
simple deeds give thrilling feats
a chance to restore their honor
purity is unwashed in ***** soil
as i am cut from the cloth of the earth
our shirts are pressed at birth
white light forming fellowship
dimples in the cheeks of the mother
the earth’s bones torn out from under
the way we made ourselves invisible
the minute we realized our accents were noticeable
our actions were abominable
how could we ever repay
the generosity we were treated to
our ultimate needs are met by poetry
upon a ridge a silent figure wept
and held his head upon a bed of cement*
Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 2:17 AM UTC
Resplendent rose, luminous green,
Lucid paradisaical palette,
The jewel delivers
It's dyed, distinctive sheen
Graciously, unassumingly
Casting a pink and emerald crewel
Coalescing into traces,
Cuisine for sunbeams
Brushing nature's easel --
Bedecking the constellation lighting on earth,
Realizing among tureens:
Scalloped edge profusions offering
The spoonbill waif
Sweet adrenaline,
Fueling it's sojourn in the atmosphere.
Bird of prey, humming minstrel,
Airy, iridescent meddler
Between red blooms,
Distant gem's sparkle
Gracing redolent, languid afternoons
Cloaked in shimmering velveteen,
Beating velocious wings, remaining still.
Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 9:11 AM UTC
Tip Your hat
And curtsy low
The masses so mandate absolute guile
A handshake, a smile, a proper and refined bow!
To adorn thy head and semble wit
And do your best!
Take pride with etiquette
If not informed
Ye won't last a mile
And differentiation between animals distinguishes you,
Resplendent child
Wash your hair and underclothes with soap
Lest ye resemble sow
And goodness dear
Have I forgotten now?
Always remember to smile!
So I'll take your Winter clothes with zest
I'll scramble on point
No unruly mess
Oh, did i forget your coat?
No, I've got it, relax, care for a smoke?
My apologies, please forgive my latency
It must be warm in here for my blood
In fact...
Boiling over kettle within
Prevent me from committing sin
I do wish to vent
Pick up this pen
And release red wells from his dainty, fragile neck
Or...
The underbelly. It's beknownst to me entrails are thick
Now whatever shall I do with this fresh clutter?
I'll act for free, so cordially!
With my chivalrous lines
But can you, my friend, respond in kind?
After all, it's only common courtesy
It's over now, my fantasy
It dissipates with urgency
And this is my confession
Yes
Imbibed in me from every grueling, tedious lesson
An implication of uniformity
The daydreams borne from the perfunctory
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 7:56 PM UTC
Past midnight...
apart from a nocturne playing
i hear a symphony of peaceful breathing
and snoring...rhythmical, this quiet evening,
it sends me soaring up my own universe,
with eyes closed, it grows more immense
creates some kind of a calm, in the silence
surrounding me, and my muse's presence.
stardust and moon provide me a crown
while i float...and probe around,
seeking something i don't know about,
in this journey,
i feel the absence of souls, slumbering deeply,
dreaming their simple, or strange fairy tales.
the firmament, wears a navy blue veil
stars are dots, they glow and scintillate,
like a warmth in the cold....emancipates
my invisible wings flap and fold,
a door knob...my hands take hold,
my destination...bright, resplendent,
"Cosmic Coffee Shop," a place, transcendent,
brewing a blend
-the dark, the positive
-the sweet, and the negative
a sign says, "write....there's pen and paper
in every corner..."
an invite, for people to create prose and poetry
where coffee is free, smells...tastes heavenly
a place to share...with brethren, in poetry.
::::::::
(an old poem)
1:01 AM
☕️ Sally ☕️
Copyright November 21, 2016
rrab
Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 1:02 PM UTC
The grass flickers, as the
Wind pushes it down, in
A gentle but determined
Motion, sweeping upwards to
Swirl the blue-grey clouds
Around the radio tower, before
Dissipating into the milky
Sky, which at this moment
Is the lightest shade of
Blue, an open innocent shade
Of blue, like an angelic birthday
Cake, the pinker clouds, whose
Graceful tendrils embrace the
Air, and dancing twirl across the
Peaceful summer skyscape
Down below them, the
Emerald stalks of corn stand,
Silent sentinels, awaiting the
Coming of the dawn, they too
Feel the pushing of the wind, but
Brush it off, over their shoulders,
And continue their silent watching
On the sloping sides of the hill, the
Growling pines, resplendent in their
Glimmering needles, reflect the fading
Light, off the clouds, as the sun sinks,
Beneath the horizon, and I watch them
Silently on my bike, the only thing
I can hear, is the swish of the wind,
And the hum and whirring of the
Pedals, as my bike and I, we glide up
The hill, and down the hill, and
Around the posts that are meant
To keep the cars from disturbing, this
Peaceful walking path
A while later, we crest a hill, now
Having past the town, I see the work
Of the persistent wind, the clouds
Now whipped into a curling wave,
Of pink and blue-black, spilling
Over the horizon, behind the red-roofed
Country houses, which are strangely
Reminiscent of those old, red, barns
Which would sit abandoned in
Fields of perpetual wheat, and,
Through the turning of the seasons,
Would rot away into timbers, with
No one left to remember, what
They were, or why they remain
Now we have ridden in a loop, my
Bike clicks as I change gears, to
Crest a hill and coast down, at high
Speed, between the guard rails and
The road, with the wind kicking
Up behind me and whisking an
Upcoming tree in to a fluttery
Flurry of leaves and branches, while
Below a stream cuts a field, and,
Skirting a pen, passes by a pinto
Pony, I think it was, that was just
Standing there, as we rode past,
Onto the cobblestones and around
A bend, the group splits, some going
A different route, but I want to come
Back the way I came, and I ride
Beside the highway, listening to
The chirp of the crickets and the
Hum of the wheels against the
Cold, pavement, while up the hill
The verdant pines bob their bows,
Up and down, waving, waving,
The crashing blue-black wave has
Rolled, on past the tower now, it
Is crashing down over the silent
Sentinels, and I watch quietly as
The wind rolls down the hill, and
Whirls some leaves, making the
Grass flicker in the setting sun.
Mar 1, 2012
Mar 1, 2012 at 2:35 PM UTC
As the laser rays from Science City lit up the night sky in a resplendent rush of colours, I watched on, quietly , from the balcony; my mind racing back to the class 9 Basics of Economics book and to that class.
Utility. A major concept in economics.
I had understood it so well then.
I had paid full attention to the teacher when she had explained that once I had had a spoonful of Biriyani, a little bit of my hunger was satiated and I would enjoy the next spoonful a little bit less than the first.
That was how utility operated, marginal utility diminishing with every spoonful.
Today, as the rays light up the sky, I think of him, and of the principle of utility.
Does the principle apply to first love as well, as it does to the first taste of Biriyani?
As love's bittersweet concoction explodes, does it render the following loves as only marginally utilitarian then?
As the first rush, first blush fades, as love's faces change, do we begin to get satiated a little less than the first time?
And is it really because we are already a bit full, a little satiated?
Or is it because the hunger gnaws on, craving that first rush, once again?
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 10:10 PM UTC
I was told about the goodness of men,
Their valour, fortitude and chivalry
Riding in on gleaming horseback.
They would lead poorer souls into battle,
Liberate distressed ladies from gilded cages
And stave away the beasts of sin.
When I heard these marvelous tales
A fierce hunger awoke within me.
I began to search for an ivory tower
To lock myself in
That a man so great might come to find me.
I thought that I had met such a man
His armour resplendent,
His smile easy and compliments quick.
He led me forth with promises of fortune.
He presented me with crimson roses,
And oft he sang to me in sweet voice.
I was satiated, my hunger quelled
With what I thought to be a golden hero.
But as the roses waned and his voice wilted,
I found that he had faults and secrets like any other-
That his bravery was bruised with cowardice.
In fact, he was absolutely ordinary,
And as God-fearing as the rest of us.
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 9:14 PM UTC
Every sunrise is a new awakening
Illuminating the intellect with power
To dispel darkness from the world
Embracing every heart with its warmth
And nurturing love to full blown flowers
Making this celestial garden resplendent
Its beautiful rays prancing in every particle
Holding the brightness of the sun, within
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 7:16 AM UTC
Soothing, sensational,
elegant as the harp,
Semblance, integument,
covering of the tarp,
Ebullient, vivacious,
precision of the mind,
Vehement, appetent,
keen & one of a kind,
Perfervid, chocolate katydid,
desirable & luscious taste,
Delectable, ambrosial,
palatable & consumed with haste,
Sybaritic, voluptuous,
enticing to the senses,
Libidinous, hedonic,
enriched untightened hinges,
Efficacious, puissant,
robust delight to the eye,
Potent, consequential,
immeasurable symbol of the sky,
Pulchritudinous, gorgeous,
magnificent as the autumn sun,
Resplendent, vivid, lustrous
as a diamond-lithographed gun,
Sympathetic, affectionate,
condoling soul of a angel,
Altruistic, benignant,
warmhearted with no mangle,
Serenity, tranquility,
composure of divine peace,
Harmonious, amicable,
placid as the slow moving creek...
Jul 6, 2012
Jul 6, 2012 at 6:46 PM UTC
Remember
The last time We were
in Dallas together
That place where We met
We loved and We lived
and where We were
so very alive in Our time
There in the beautiful city
Resplendent and Refined
Where we spent Our moments
in love in life
and the quiet vibrant
Love of Life
Remember
That last time
We went back home
to Dallas
On that day we awoke
in the early morning
When I asked if you
were ready to leave
You stepped gracefully
to embrace me
You said We had time
Do you think We might...
please
You knowing surely
without a doubt
you never needed
to plead
We made love
like We knew
that We meant it
We made love
that isn't made fast
We made love
in the joys
of pleasing each other
A love that would always
however still last
We soon then
were on our way
on a beautiful bright
late Fall day
To see someone
back home
You there then
golden and glorious
Happy and smiling
Sipping on a Sunkist
citrus soda
We put the car on cruise
and We sailed away
Slipping quickly from
the rustic western country
To merge swiftly
into the flow of
the magnificent city
Toward the inbound
expressway
Remember the majestic
towering skyscrapers
as we made the loop
around downtown
The red flying Pegasus
still flying on
as the emblem
of Our hometown
Reunion Tower
and the magic of light
The Top of the Dome Club
at the top of the world
Such wonderful times
at the top of Our life
Remember Our date there
when We were yet still young
that lasted the afternoon
Throughout the evening and
all that beautiful night long
For You then my Lady
A perfect Chardonnay wine
For me Johnny Walker
on the rocks
All to perfectly bind
the heart and mind
To a wondrous moment
Overswept yet fixed in time
You by my side as
I always had hoped
Like that very last time
We were in Dallas
together back home
We made our stop
to meet with a doctor friend
He knew what I could never
believe and what I never
wanted to have had
to comprehend
You were gone by measures
You were gone by degree
You were going
and near hopelessly
gone unto me
Yet I still hoped
and believed
The last time
We went back home
to Dallas together again
But still on the way back
from Our bright shining city
to what would become
the darkest of desolations
You still were happy
or so it seemed
You were bright and beautiful
like in a perfect dream
We stopped at a restaurant
I ate a lot...but You did not
You stepped away for a minute
and then I met you at the car
When We got back
to that place
where together
We last lived
We embraced and
You said again...
please
Surely You never
would have ever
needed to plead
We first lay there
together a moment
to recover Our strength
Entwined together
You and me
Then We there
were immersed within
that precious moment
When all of beautiful
intimate art is
expressed in life
And all of love
becomes perfectly
tragic art
There is where
I felt the trickle
of Your tears
as they fell down
onto my chest
And then there
upon my heart
After that last time
We were back
home in Dallas
together.
Remember Dallas.
We always
will have Dallas.
-R.
7/17/17
-LA
-4MAR
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 3:57 PM UTC
Standing resplendent in a baroque topiary,
Under a florid arbour as an arched canopy,
Her pulchritude in moonlight, is the plenary
Picture of, the muse, the Goddess Calliope.
My heart’s reminiscence of our first encounter,
Like a fragrance in my mind wafts around,
Whose Pareidolia in every-thing sketches her
Face, to which it is entirely spellbound.
Were the Fates to keep us apart,
As the sculptor Pygmalion I would be.
But Aphrodite won’t breathe life into my art,
For not my Galatea, I love my Calliope.
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 11:06 AM UTC
*
~for Bill T. Jones~
two poets, laureates both,
on the nature of hunger, they discourse,
in temple, where sacrificing is to living arts
I was there, hungry in every aspect,
seeking wisdom of the hungering nature of human.
examine the word, hunger,
hardly a rolling off the tongue mellifluous.
you growl it from the gut, in gowned resplendent ugliness,
go ahead, try it, it’s coarse and powerful insistent.
awoken empty but for the hunger, hungover from
dancing words and imagery not mine, now mine,
maddeningly demanding my dutiful attentions,
as if hunger was the master, me, obedient pupil.
the clean white slate the IPad re-presents repeatedly,
insulted that I have yet to crayon color it with the coherence
of hunger-exhaled words, dismissive that I am but an also-ran,
my village of lexical too unsophisticated,
the page addressed yet unplanned,
Apple white
is the color of the
starving artist.
May 26, 2019
May 26, 2019 at 1:44 PM UTC
my father sat in a pool
of mid-morning sunshine
on the raised patio
overlooking the garden
an open book in his lap
the dog asleep at his side
the lightest of clouds
decorating the horizon
and a whisper of leaves
his only distraction
as i rushed to the kitchen
for a hastily made
better-than-nothing version
of a flat white
that i wouldn't even enjoy
only ten minutes to spare
before yet another meeting
i paused for a moment
to take in this scene
resplendent as he was
peacefully present
behind the radiance
of diaphanous lace
breeze-rippled curtains
suffused with sunlight
a pertinent reminder
of something which
i didn't have time
to consider
Aug 3, 2023
Aug 3, 2023 at 11:53 AM UTC
let's make a deal.
uncap the bottle,
discover my greatest work-
a soliloquy on sentience,
performed to an empty room.
the walls
are bleeding lead poisoning again
and i
am leaving logic behind.
the air is crisp on my wretched skin
and as the world dies
its aching breath helps me
to finally feel alive.
i am pure white.
let me rise, enlightened.
as i float, breathless,
i can feel, finally,
the weight of my bones.
make me into a sparrow,
feast upon my marrow,
so i can become porous-
but leave my hollow mind whole.
idolize me.
spin my disease into pure beauty.
a stone-cold rose
grounds the coffin for my dreams,
liberating me from responsibility.
awaken me.
strip my heavy corpse of its wings,
eviscerate the breath from my lungs
cease my tangibility
oh glory,
build me up
strip me down
to my knuckles and teeth,
to the weathered bone.
remove the bloodstains from my home.
if i bleed now
it will be beautiful
when i fall, i
will glorify the cement, decorate it
with my shining insides
when i come down
it will be stunning
it will be dreadful
and i will be resplendent
-but the delivery
won't change the content
candy wrapping
can't cover up the stench of death-
i have given up
on purging the necrosis from my tissue
i have found
this tantalizing muse once again, and
once more i
will let her put cigarettes out
on my sorry skin.
i've grown to love the smell,
that acrid poison
it almost covers up the scars
she leaves-
if i can make dying sound beautiful
then to hell
with us all
if you could romanticise suicide
you'd be rotting
too
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 9:14 PM UTC
Verdant eyes, translucent pearls
speak in silent witness,
wounds unfurl
meaning revealed,
interrupted girl.
Safe in solidarity
prolific eccentricity,
the scandal of particularity.
Pouting mouth
grief - filled lips
alluring, set sail a thousand ships;
tempt me to leave harbor.
Arousing euphoria as such,
resistance, amity and distance
amour sans touch
her sense of humor transcends,
appeasing the mind’s thirst
a vogue sultana,
seasoned swagger
hair resplendent flame,
alternating cool, black
asymmetrical coiffure;
nonconforming demure
the renegade metaphor -
singular for sure, no cure.
Muted vanity, bathos piercing
the jaded circumference of banality;
pale protagonist servitude
the sapient palaver of the urbane,
covered patina of pretense,
induced coercion,
the commodity self
appearing abased
wearing lesions of lassitude.
Artistic chattel - eminent domain
preempting genius,
subsidiary of consuming narcissism
external locus of control;
surrender to the tentative,
fettered pendant, Venus in chains
arrested visionary bane
sterile savant, edifice of pain.
The soubrette, dubious incarnation
gravid ingénue of prevarication
imperceptible venue -
theatre of the absurd;
withdrawn siren,
solitude of necessity -
skin - slender veil of shame,
nearness loitering redemption;
moments envisage
the appointment with the soul;
ambiguity eschews clarity
awareness; ineluctable anxiety,
imago - centric confession
sacred pardon, seraphic venation
intravenous textures presume,
the tactile margins of liberty.
Therapeutic retrieval,
Sanguine,
beneath the portico of
individuation;
Your smile I hear,
recovered autonomy
blessed emancipation,
The scandal of particularity;
peculiar treasure
ironically captured
film, canvas,
prose profundity.
Ciphering as an ambling book,
I peruse you,
rendered captive
hypnotic avant-garde fiction,
spectator of denuded opacity
analogous reflection, I Mirror you.
A modest proposal - pontificate the imperative,
forgo the disposal, adapt your narrative,
the scandal of particularity -
resonate the echo, cogitate our propinquity
Love, imagination and destiny.
©2008 & 2011 W.S Warner
Sep 9, 2011
Sep 9, 2011 at 1:20 AM UTC