"ribboning" poems
Are you alive?
Tendrils tickle the surface
And billows
Bloom from the core,
Ribboning thinner than
those things which breach
seawalls,
Seeping impermeable
To flirt with all sides of this vessel.
I saw in him the beauty
The same as I saw the beauty of
suffused ink, mingling
In delicate patterns of fluidity and filament.
His release quivers momentarily,
Hung in fluid stillness, and
Flushed with a desire to saturate.
In saturation, one may think it
Possible to be falling
Up through a falling surge.
We two coalesce at the bottom.
Feb 1, 2011
Feb 1, 2011 at 7:23 PM UTC
The quiet flute
melody
ribboning through the
murk that surrounds
my heart
sings it's way in
all the way in
to the center
where it belongs
where it weaves it's way
like a water snake
amongst the tangled reeds
of my worries
and barriers
gently pulling them
from their roots
and tying them into
beautiful bundles
each with an ethereal
flutesong bow
burden-bundles
song-swept away
unravelled
one by one
lifted by the
floating echo
a life song
rests
in my core.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 11:36 AM UTC
I am unravelling.
Fragments thin as hair pull away,
Ribboning to a dance of dust.
Of stars,
Or of dirt -
I am unsure,
But there is no weight for breeze or sun,
and yet they hold me gently within their calm.
Feb 22, 2020
Feb 22, 2020 at 11:02 PM UTC
you are a spark out of a dying ember, phoenix of my life. where one dies, another is born, and you are the lantern of the light in my darkness.
I am raw and unhinged, while you are dreamy and uninhibited. the colors of the iridescent webs you weave leave me breathless as I examine each gossamer strand.
you are artemis, the goddess of the hunt; protector of all creatures great and small. I, being a mere red fox, fall under your care. your empathetic abilities radiate so much love, and fluctuate to meet my moods and emotions.
you are as if nature and nurture collided together through the stars as they formed you.
you weave your celestial lights in the sky, my aurora borealis. you are an ethereal essence made of light and love ribboning in the night.
I want to bottle you up and keep your eternal light by my bedside to guide me throughout life – to finally say that I own and have a small piece of something of perfect divinity in nature; but I know this can't be the case.
you are wild and free; untamed by man. but I know somehow, just like the moon; you will return to me each night.
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 11:18 AM UTC
A colourful candy bar,
Giving her warm fuzzies,
An angelic face,
experiencing a heaven sent,
A devilish face nearby with a malicious grin,
Ribboning lust in his heart,
Stepping towards a room full of toys,
Winning the child with petrol soaked perks,
**** of the door clicked,
Curtains being dropped,
The laughters altered to screams,
As a new leaf is turned,
Rapacious hold on the wrists,
Making the angel to vociferate,
Filthy hands and animalism,
Staining an innocent soul,
Carnal thirst being satisfied,
By victimising a child by libido,
Walls of the room tainted with a secret,
Childhood squirming in the corner,
Star shell wishes turning into coal,
Angels mourning,
Dolls gulping their tears,
Teddy bear covering his eyes with dismay,
A bruised piece of flesh and blood,
Stabbed from pain,
Butterfly peeking from a window,
Loses the colours of its wings,
The earth trembles terrifically,
As the sky detaches a star ! ⭐️
~ Ayesha Nadeem
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 9:28 AM UTC
a wicked, unrighteous child's mind
lies closer to the truth
than a noble graybeard's ever will &
here is that only, hideous verity:
death has the body of a boy.
an ocherous-haired boy, sylphlike,
unearthly, peerless and
other word to forbear from writing 'beautiful'.
guiltless people do not know that.
'irradiating one, let me hold you', he says,
and i let him. i can recall swearing,
palms pressed together and liquid lungs
settled at the bottom of a bathroom sink,
never to allow to be eaten again
because that is what holding someone is for;
(guiltless people do not know that.)
be that as it may,
i let him.
forgiveness was never
suited for me, anyway.
there can be no fallacy;
no fraud can remain a fraud
once they are birdlimed
by a fire-stricken embrace.
a mindless prey is what they become.
a devourer is what he always was.
guiltless people do not know that.
my eyelids will not yet sink over my pupils,
not until his hidden claws,
ribboning and shredding their way
out of his unsoiled skin, turn
my neck into bloodbath,
my heart into maelstrom.
what a blessed, glory-driven way to meet death.
Jan 18, 2021
Jan 18, 2021 at 8:15 PM UTC