"rippled" poems
Those who lash out when the heart speaks
avoid the many mirrors reflecting themselves
For in this rippled dream,
where perfect does exist
and mistakes are long gone like a Milli Vanilli song,
they fail to see that we are all human…
errors come with the package (batteries not included)
Sidewalk footprints, back and forth
pacing past the entrance to that world
where words have no meaning,
regardless of how they are spoken (or written)
Self-absorbed deeply in the waves
of that ocean tide of fantasy
crashing in white foam feelings, disappearing by sunset
What is it that makes us who we are…
our smile, our fingers, our brand of cigarettes
shipped in plain brown envelopes,
our thoughts, our dreams, the poetry we write
when we need to get it out…good or bad
When lack of judgment drips from the skylight
illuminating courage to do what we shouldn’t (even in darkness)
Wrong, I was wrong…regret, more than I could have known
I have looked in this mirror, then I looked away quickly,
Ashamed of that face, fell three stories below my heart
slipped on the disgust splattered at my feet (by me)
sunk up to my knees…bent, folding, scraped and bruised
but I require no sympathy, for I am not that devil Jagger sings of…
at least I hope not…please allow me to introduce myself…I am sorry
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 6:12 PM UTC
the world is e.n.d.i.n.g
every. second, is. fleeting.
minutes. become empty pockets
of moments. no longer,able. to, support
existence;
those. who .see
each; br,eath ,as a tick. on their own
clock; reminding them that
they too are
ending.
run, from. their lungs.
forgettin to. let e a c h insta.nt
take hold, of their. flesh.
because,
even. if father time. has claws,,, that
lea.ve scars.
at least, etched into their
bones. would be, the
smiles, wide enough.
to convince, the man on. the moon
to. hold, back night,fall. a little longer
letting. this brief, lifetime, linger.
and the ,laughter. that rippled; time, into
deep wrinkles. of prol,o.nged being.
scratches, that. symbol victory's, over. time's
elusive game.
so that. when. our, clocks run. out of time
we can, be winners. without
being the first to the finish line.
leave. our, bodies behind.
as, time capsules.
filled, with. the lives
.claimed
by, patient.
eyes.
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 10:20 PM UTC
while I may do you perfectly. the snow angels on gasoline st., did you
see them? All of the houses were dripping wet too, one girl with gold laces on her leopard shoes wore red plastic pants; totally soaked to the bone.
to train ourselves to brave the heat of each others' bodies as we awaken in one small bed, one small blanket. the both of us yawn. it's so fun to make waffles but neither of us like to eat preference. I love you to death but prefer to brush my teeth alone- one tooth at a time.
embrace your new t-shirt, even though not everyone enjoys a good show of a flock of crows. hand drawn indie wicker-hipster prints. coffee by the pint. you crack me up like vitrifying glass sheens of the individual bubbles in a bubble bath or the ****** glazed eyes of the monsters' eye while a shark attacks.
creaky sounds of bodies mapped by fingers, tickled tummies rippled by listening to witch house singers. you crack me up, count chocula. It's Saturday, I love to laugh while laying down. everybody's funnier when they're laying on the ground. we toast to ghosts.
luminous lengths of birthday candles
lickediddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd d 0 y0urself as best you can
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 3:55 AM UTC
the shock
of bodies—
a sound
rippled in
cheetah lightening
to wings of blasted
flowers taught
red
yellow
lavender sky—
butterfly wound
festering pollened
breeze to
where your
mouth
is opened
breath
tongue
and twisted cord—
opaque bee
twirling with
opaque stamen
lit
in a wall of
rushing
waterfall—a
perfect contrast
of forgiveness
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 11:22 AM UTC
I fell in love with a girl.
And when I say fell, I mean crashed, heart-first.
Willingly....
Immersed every inch of my self.
Soul-first...
Into this love...
We went swimming.
So willingly.
And I held you...
So close.
So tight.
And we slept so sound in those surroundings.
Tangled.
Together.
In silence.
In the dark.
You didnt need a TV those nights to keep the boogeyman at bay.
So willingly...
I quenched you in my arms...
So that our hearts could perpetuate perfect pulses.
In unison...like a symphony of moving atoms.
And we produced thermal fusion.
Tangled.
Together.
I see you.
My reflection.
That first time we locked eyes...
We saw souls.
And this collision formed one heavenly body.
That's why I cried over this division.
This imperfect perfection.
And I never gave 2nd thought when you told me i'd never lose you.
I believed you.
But then...I wanted to.
I wanted you.
I'm still trying to brush away the dust as it settles into sentiment.
This reflection...
Rippled but real...
Forms rings of imperfect perfection...
When we're both looking in the same direction.
May 7, 2011
May 7, 2011 at 4:54 PM UTC
Dust on fans, cluttered rooms
you're still beside me
I know that's true
red nights, take it how you like
you're still beside me
I have to thank you
Darker thoughts, and mistrust
you've reassured me, no matter what
I trust you, I do
Past has bruised me,
but eventually they disappear
yours have not, I see that daily
Ill tread with caution,
you seem to save me
Daisies, and messy clothes
my muddy water remains,
We share a lake, you and I
with turtles, fish, and cranes
dragonflies coasting above our rippled waters
our lake is never dry,
you seem to save me,
you and I.
Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 8:38 PM UTC
Angelic minds, they say, by simple intelligence
Behold the Forms of nature. They discern
Unerringly the Archtypes, all the verities
Which mortals lack or indirectly learn.
Transparent in primordial truth, unvarying,
Pure Earthness and right Stonehood from their clear,
High eminence are seen; unveiled, the seminal
Huge Principles appear.
The Tree-ness of the tree they know-the meaning of
Arboreal life, how from earth's salty lap
The solar beam uplifts it; all the holiness
Enacted by leaves' fall and rising sap;
But never an angel knows the knife-edged severance
Of sun from shadow where the trees begin,
The blessed cool at every pore caressing us
-An angel has no skin.
They see the Form of Air; but mortals breathing it
Drink the whole summer down into the breast.
The lavish pinks, the field new-mown, the ravishing
Sea-smells, the wood-fire smoke that whispers Rest.
The tremor on the rippled pool of memory
That from each smell in widening circles goes,
The pleasure and the pang --can angels measure it?
An angel has no nose.
The nourishing of life, and how it flourishes
On death, and why, they utterly know; but not
The hill-born, earthy spring, the dark cold bilberries.
The ripe peach from the southern wall still hot
Full-bellied tankards foamy-topped, the delicate
Half-lyric lamb, a new loaf's billowy curves,
Nor porridge, nor the tingling taste of oranges.
—An angel has no nerves.
Far richer they! I know the senses' witchery
Guards us like air, from heavens too big to see;
Imminent death to man that barb'd sublimity
And dazzling edge of beauty unsheathed would be.
Yet here, within this tiny, charmed interior,
This parlour of the brain, their Maker shares
With living men some secrets in a privacy
Forever ours, not theirs.
6.3k
A single moonbeam falls on her face,
like God revealing an angel.
But she is my angel;
my dark angel of the night.
Like the night itself she moves,
silence and grace in her every step.
Her midnight hair like the rippled clouds,
soft silky strands shining in the moonlight.
Dark eyes, darker than the new moon,
shine with promise of things to come.
Full lips parted in a feral grin,
her very presence touches me
deeper than a winter midnight’s chill.
My dark angel.
I close my eyes;
I am hers;
She is mine.
Dec 18, 2013
Dec 18, 2013 at 11:44 AM UTC
We Two are One:
Remember when
Long time before
You tried to catch your heels
Flying solo bound
Remember who
crept in the darkness of your room
and played upon your heart
such beautiful sounds
Remember the childhood wonder
and forgotten dreams
of sleeping rainbows
Whilst mother earth
blows stolen ****** kisses
leave dancing shadows
to find their way
Onto the crisp breath's
upon the lips
of such youthful lovers
and time stands still for a moment
And loves air is fresh to inhale
Remember
you are the enormous tide
that extends your mark
upon this world.
The grace of spirited waves,
tossed and turned by timid sprays
Enlightened by the suns rays
In spirit and fortitude:
Solitude awaits you no more
Welcome the deluge and purity
This elixir of life, Behold!
For if loves cool waters
are united, rippled
every wave would
be paved in gold
Exhale the release
Inhale the vision among us
Grow and evolve
just as the rivers flow
Embrace love together
and reflect nature's gazes
For you are
each others sleeping rainbow
Do not forget your united destiny.
You were meant to fly
as in your dreams.
Only higher.
And together.
Forever.
Amen.
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 7:11 AM UTC
All the things I know are gathered on a paper boat drifting through the thick of doubt and coincidence. Patience keeps it floating but time turns the ocean upside down.
The doubt that rippled below is now raining from the sky.
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 3:37 PM UTC
~
Of light at play…day’s end, to cease
Now mirrored of a rippled sea
Casting long in shadowed dreams
A drifting silhouette…at peace
Sail on, sail on,
currents feed this destined course
Arcs, spun gold…on dance card wings
Lemon dust, the sifted sound
Framed of flowing tangerine
Silence sings…as truth is found
Sail on, sail on,
captured breezes…quiet source
Abstract waves…in curtained sweep
Drape this ocean’s fantasy
Melodic so the depth to breathe
Champagne tints the tapestry
Sail on, sail on,
horizon’s beckoned rendezvous
Citrine jeweled on zephyr’s flight
Calmly cools in twilight feel
Motions quell the rhythm’d night
Beliefs this sun shall soon conceal
Sail on, sail on,
as daylight disappears from view
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
Each day I watch the ocean swell
Sometimes with hope, sometimes despair;
The ocean's faces ever change
Like the fashions of their hair:
Monday:
Like a waterfall of brown
Through golden culverts flowing--
Sweeps me far away downstream,
Without her ever knowing.
Tuesday:
Rippled clouds at sunrise,
Supple, damp and red,
Combed out, twisted in a braid,
Or just left loose instead.
Wednesday:
Of her black hair a single strand
Sweeter than Midnight's darkest land;
When it lightens up again,
Its sunrise on a beach of sand.
Thursday:
Like golden floss on top of corn,
Silky, curly, fine,
Rising from a thick, black band
Above blue eyes that shine.
Friday:
Whipped up like a hot souffle,
Luxurious, soft, held loose
With ribbons, combs and perfume,
Tempting like a mousse.
Saturday:
Her pony tail we follow,
Like the Christmas star;
Maybe we're not wise men,
But then, maybe we are.
Sunday:
Her hair flew up out the vent
Like a flame,
When we hit an unmarked bump
(Not big).
The top slid shut,
And her hair almost caught,
So I reached up
And pulled it in quick.
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 11:28 AM UTC
infliction-
pain
could I have asked for any different?
your pierced skin and deviled eyes
rippled tears
drag across the blood on your skin
its over.
where are your scars?
you've done too much damage
or so you say-
naïve thoughts
you implanted false lies
floating in mind space.
did you think of how you would die?
your purpose
and your prose
what has it all come down to?
give me more than a reason
to spare your shriveled self
prove your worth.
but there is nothing.
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 3:28 PM UTC
“Don’t consider my words the sick
ecstasy of a sick mind, but you are
for me perfection!”
- Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Idiot
I remember
I can taste blood
on the roof of my mouth
I remember her face the first time
I asked her to coffee
when it rippled in a minor
hemorrhage of surprise
like the request was unexpected
but maybe
I hoped
hoped for
holding fiery cider in her hand
she was word and color transfused
when she spoke
she was celluloid and strawberry blond
and her smile looked like water
racing over rubies and the years
that I had waited
to meet someone like her
her hair was tied back
in a hurricane of dim gold
her voice spun out veins of thought
fluid and manic as magma
but brilliant like serrated ice
I remember
the cardial whiplash
when she said she would like to do this again
the sanguine dreams that came
after giddy toss and turning
turned to sleep
the saccharine thought
that I might be with her
suddenly washing away
leaving only the clean sting
from the bluelit photograph
of her having coffee somewhere else
my sheets grew thicker
as I stared
I did not blink
I just drank in cold acceptance
of the stranger staring back beside her
as the palpitating hope stopped
and the sunk aorta darkened
there were no feelings
save the ones that
I remember
I can still taste blood
on the roof of my mouth
Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 10:22 PM UTC
Dragonfly o Dragonfly
framed against a lazy summer sky,
you'll hover and ponder out yonder,
like an acrobat you fly.
You'll dance and dart, hover and peer,
Touching, stalking, feathered walking.
On pond shadows dark and near,
onto sunbeams sparkling clear.
Casting imaged reflections,
on a mirrored surface of life's crystal pond.
Where ever-diminishing dainty rippled circles,
disappear onto a distant misty shore beyond.
You'll ponder and peep,
through dark secrets your pond might keep,
captured images of animals & bees,
scented flowers & soft young trees.
About political boundary bursts,
and agonizing desert thirsts.
While strife-torn agony song is being sung,
at the scorching heat of the searing Sun.
Witnessing a climate change,
Industrial, Oil, Air & Waste pollution.
With no workable cleanup program in site,
to warrant a solution.
Our planet's resources stretched,
to its limits by human misery & industry untold.
Life's habitats are disappearing,
the beginning of Earth end is nearing.
It is inevitable that soon, to soon,
after million a year, on life's crystal ponds so clear.
You'll too succumb to man's industrious endevours,
and for eternity disappear.
Andreas Strauss.16 June 2007
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 4:16 AM UTC
(To L. L.)
Could we dig up this long-buried treasure,
Were it worth the pleasure,
We never could learn love’s song,
We are parted too long.
Could the passionate past that is fled
Call back its dead,
Could we live it all over again,
Were it worth the pain!
I remember we used to meet
By an ivied seat,
And you warbled each pretty word
With the air of a bird;
And your voice had a quaver in it,
Just like a linnet,
And shook, as the blackbird’s throat
With its last big note;
And your eyes, they were green and grey
Like an April day,
But lit into amethyst
When I stooped and kissed;
And your mouth, it would never smile
For a long, long while,
Then it rippled all over with laughter
Five minutes after.
You were always afraid of a shower,
Just like a flower:
I remember you started and ran
When the rain began.
I remember I never could catch you,
For no one could match you,
You had wonderful, luminous, fleet,
Little wings to your feet.
I remember your hair—did I tie it?
For it always ran riot—
Like a tangled sunbeam of gold:
These things are old.
I remember so well the room,
And the lilac bloom
That beat at the dripping pane
In the warm June rain;
And the colour of your gown,
It was amber-brown,
And two yellow satin bows
From your shoulders rose.
And the handkerchief of French lace
Which you held to your face—
Had a small tear left a stain?
Or was it the rain?
On your hand as it waved adieu
There were veins of blue;
In your voice as it said good-bye
Was a petulant cry,
‘You have only wasted your life.’
(Ah, that was the knife!)
When I rushed through the garden gate
It was all too late.
Could we live it over again,
Were it worth the pain,
Could the passionate past that is fled
Call back its dead!
Well, if my heart must break,
Dear love, for your sake,
It will break in music, I know,
Poets’ hearts break so.
But strange that I was not told
That the brain can hold
In a tiny ivory cell
God’s heaven and hell.
4.4k
Rippled torsos or rippled waves,
both have got me remembering heavy, summery air,
sunshine, and beach days
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 7:21 PM UTC
An omnibus across the bridge
Crawls like a yellow butterfly,
And, here and there, a passer-by
Shows like a little restless midge.
Big barges full of yellow hay
Are moored against the shadowy wharf,
And, like a yellow silken scarf,
The thick fog hangs along the quay.
The yellow leaves begin to fade
And flutter from the Temple elms,
And at my feet the pale green Thames
Lies like a rod of rippled jade.
4k
There was a Truth
in murk-settled water.
I'll sit at the surface
and remember past wrongs.
Stirred lake was below us,
the eels and a catfish,
but towered above
the sun shone down warm.
A dead masquerade,
you kicked for the surface.
Your body, it rippled
a silhouetted sky.
Dead hum underwater
our eyelids were liquid.
My jellyfish back
absorbed the tanned rays.
Ingest your diffraction,
a hunger astray.
A dry-land discov'ry:
it was my legs aflame.
The murk was in you.
The murk was in you.
Dear God, I was clean.
Dear God, I was clean.
A seat at the table
to pray for the lake.
But what does it matter?
Wash my hands to eat.
Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 11:46 AM UTC
If I added up all my scars,
across my arms and over my hips,
I could stitch them up,
into untold stories and engrave them on my skin,
so everyone could see,
the vulnerability within.
If I spread my wounds across a canvas,
purple, blue, red, and other hues,
creeping on rippled fabric like stars in the night sky,
I’d create galaxies,
with craters, suns and moons,
constellations of healing wounds.
Apr 25, 2019
Apr 25, 2019 at 3:38 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
Willow herb floating
on silent certainty
ashes of sighs
not fleeting,
unvapoured on the
blossom of the rain,
I am too light to
pull or push
the swing of delight
through this land.
The rain left me for a
while
sun unshielding
-a thousand widows
more unyielding than the depths . .
Once shadowed whisperers
of delight,gossamer
sparkling , descending
their chains
of necromantic hope.
Lilith is no night owl
she is mother, eve
and my becoming:
sweet earth spun
at once ,
exhaling her .
The see saw
bumped gently
on my chin
it is a most gentle
form of awakening.
The silence bore no whispers
till sinking through the quicksand
-or was it quicksilver?
-in any case I could smell little
in my amniotic amnesia.
I made ten thousand friends,till their soap
made this place clean.
Is this a seed or a dying
hopefulness
-is my sallow sowing
beyond all shores of
reproduction;
a reflection of the child
they dared not bear?
Is my last breath like this
a forgotton yielding
will they catch me
as I fall ?
-(sweet earth)-
This moth of my ending,
a shallow recantation,
my fears-
their memories, mere
testubes of
stylish hope .
I breathe the elegant stare
you have forgotten .
Once more free
from such
rememberance
I need not ,
remained not ,
your imploded ,
wakefulness .
A thousand pardons
exhaled like silk
entwining
an unfinished race
spider of a thousand eyes .
One may say
I was
stared
to death
but surrogate air
mocks childish pity.
Taut refelexions
bear salt echoes
in silk convulsions
fresh water
a veneered hope .
Easier in death than life
is a child's sorrowed
partings ,
the illusion of
bouyancy
rippled tides
unfelt.
The oceans have not enough salt
for such shrunken sorrow.
if we could but once
have shared
unbreathed aspersion .
The room has come and gone
the pillow quite undry
unforgotten
unremembered.
A web untouched
Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 7:46 AM UTC
I couldn't see, but water
reflecting, it danced from the sun
black cormorant dove under stars and pearls of sea
for silvery fish to fill his beak
a small boat I rowed
long through water weeds, cat tail reeds
paddles cut the diamond day sparkling
sandy shores mollusk strewn
rippled shells shimmering blue
oysters bubbled, shallows breathing
seagull smiled watchful scheming
a beach fire to warm the night
the dusky sun, no longer to keep
soon the moon between the trees
radiant, it wakes the stars from sleep
Aug 7, 2012
Aug 7, 2012 at 1:42 PM UTC