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PoserPersona Jun 2018
I.
The moon sings the languid flower,
  to bloom at midnight hour
Harmonious feast transpires -
  luminescent choir

Petals mirror la hue de Luna,
  but pale below her glow
Though the desert sweet aroma,
  is fragrance plus photo

Neither causing nightly failure,
  in idyllic charm
In fact, those powers are greater,
  together than apart

II.
The moon a long gone distant rock,
  yet pulls on ocean tops
Cereus lures with sweetest tricks,
  and stings with countless licks  

Battered holy asteroid face,
 woos flawless solar gaze
And even though it causes mire,
  lunar eclipses fire

The cactus thrives in driest sands,
  and chokes in fertile lands
Alluring lonesome wanderers,
  promising mere water

The lucid beauty bewilders,
  as much as it can haunt
In fact, those powers are greater,
  together than apart

III.
You, once my cereus and moon,
  were drowned in my love well
Perhaps, I was this to you too,
  though your hole I’d not delve

However, what was first velvet,
  morphed into devil’s horns
Winter shed those thorns in my chest,
  now spring gifts hope and more

The icy grips of each winter,
  provides spring fuel to spark
In fact, those powers are greater,
  together than apart

IV.
Although we've gone on our own ways,
  I wouldn’t change the past
For each step was necessary,
  to find true love at last

We were once greater together.


I’m now greater apart.
Shofi Ahmed Jun 2017
Not once upon a time but now
among most innocent ones,
an Arabian voice is buried
in the thick wall of bricks
furnished with glory,
floating in the oasis of money.

Yet, when it switches to it's origin
then maybe is a poor Arab speaking.
Still the rest of the world
                                 can forget the oil
                           it's no sad story anymore
the sand beneath his feet shines
                                 brighter than the gold!
I tried not to let go,
But she slipped through my hands.
I didn't realize I was against the flow,
Unable to adjust to the shifting sands.
Now, I sit in this emptiness longing to see her again.
I miss her presence,
Like the barren land misses the summer rain.
I want to drench in her essence
And feel alive.
She has been drained out of me.
I regret going against the tide.
There was so much that I wanted to see.
Adventures I wanted to share,
Of deserts, mountains, and the sea.
Tell her that I care
And know if she cared about me.

Oh Life, I miss you!
I realize as I sit here in my agony.
I am sorry for all I made you go through.
It is such an irony!

Because as a kid, all I wanted to do was grow up.
I could not value you when I had you.
Now, you have left and I miss you.

Oh life, I miss you in my agony.
I am smiling in my sadness,
It is such an irony!










Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2019.
All Rights Reserved.
We often value things, after we have lost them.
Qweyku Aug 2018
drenched in a sea of waveforms,
dancing on the ebb of a digital ocean
its crests crowned with sound

pitched upon amplitude tides      
their volume compressed;
reverberating through glass speakers
mere dots in the sands

i hear cadence...
within the music of your speech
how can it be such a many word
written, yet forgotten,
indelibly on your beach?

if we could interpret the oceans
what stories would its sea speak?
of its corruption?
treasures unreturned
to lost and found?
or of its time to give up the dead,
or of the angels that fell to its ground?


© Qwey.ku
Have I told you of how I love the sea?
A duplicitous temptress.
choosing to drown or carry you afloat.
We’re all just grains of sand...
I used to think the world was fair and that life works itself out
But now I’m confused and my heart’s filled with doubt,
The threads of this dream are starting to unwind
I’ve come to learn the world is unjust and fate is unkind.

I always thought you were real but my perception was blind
Your blurring my vision and playing with my mind,
Slowly like the sands of time you’re ripping away at my soul
You’ve taken all I have, all that makes me whole,
Driving myself crazy trying to fill that empty void
But I can’t pull it together, my confidence you’ve destroyed.

You’ve taken my happiness and replaced it with hate
So much hatred and anger I just can’t take,
You’ve poisoned me enough, I’ll break down and cry
But never will I give up, no I will not die.

You will not take me down, you will not conquer me tonight
I will not lay down in my grave I’ll stand up and fight,
I maybe bleeding but take off that smile if you think you’ve won
A knife through my heart is nothing, the battle’s just begun.

There is warrior inside that you failed to see
A strength you missed while you were judging me,
She will not give up as easy as you think
I’m drowning in depression but she will not sink,
Through all the pain and criticism she will stand tall
When pushed passed the limit she will not fall,
I will take whatever you give to me
And with god by my side I will be free.

I won’t bow down to you and just take the abuse
You can’t break my faith, don’t try there’s no use,
So you can turn that smile into a frown
Because this is one girl that just won’t go down
Read more at http://www.******-in-oncology.com
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
A comely rainbow
spanning the wet, sobbing sky;
colours showering
mesmeric pearls of teardrops on earth.

Many subtle shades of marvel
unfolded that day.

Elegance of burning splendour in sun’s soul -
earth treasuring the seed of the first rain
in its womb for a new birth -
Spring’s svelte fingers
painting brilliance across the droning vale -
mist of radiance of a gorgeous moon -
stars sparkling to a melody
flowing from the divine harp -
sea breeze carving
shifting sculptures on sands of gold -
amorous mirth of sea waves
rushing to the hug of a waiting shore.

I stood there,
a trance benumbing my senses
to an hypnotic bliss.
ryn Apr 2015
It's beginning...
As my day matured into the tangerine sun.
Familiar feelings effortlessly conjured as the same old tales were spun.

Some came in hues of marmalade
Traces of citrus that left in haste.
Initial sweetness on the palate that would fade
Only making way for a bitter aftertaste.

A few were wrapped in tints of ******.
A jolt-like sensation that spoke...
Intense and unmistakable in nature.
Like glowing embers engulfed in latent flames and smoke.

Several bore the colours and scent of marigold
Boasting of orange petals whimsically waving to the clouds...
Whispering hints of rumours from days of old,
Days of when mine was the only silent face in a boisterous crowd.

The ones forged in bronze were few and hardly said.
Like the only compelling excerpt embedded within infinite chapters.
Hidden words in plain sight strung together boldly in
red.
Rubies cast carelessly in the swiftest of rivers...

It is beginning...**
The end of today as the sun grew redder...
I'd bide the sands of time as it slips away into forever...
melt with me
in eternal summer
tan white hot lines
on the sands of time
Tanay Sengupta Sep 2018
The shifting sands obey none.
They whirl and twirl to their own will.
There is nothing that can be done.
We have already done our fill.

Tick tock, the clock goes on,
The period is coming to an end.
It is just too late to move on,
Time is really no one's friend.

It moves on its own way
Making its own path.
Turning night into day


Don't fear time
But fear its wrath.












Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved
You know the drill, no explanations. Read and perceive it in your own way. Happy reading!
In lonely moments
I stroll the waning memories
when love pure smiled blissfully
deep within a fawning heart

a wistful melody arises untainted
like a steaming enslaved passion
                         breathlessly released
                              unrestrained,..

         ­                          evident
                    as the pressed and dried flowers
          cuddled between life's ardent petaled pages,
                         bookmarks of the heart

                         traces of the wild bouquets
                         that often soothingly caress’d
                         the energizing tingles  
                         inflaming a tantalizing touch

                         the yearning  empty voids
                         feverishly undressed,
                         traced in the hidden sands
                         of unexplored oceans..
                        
                         though time and distance
make the bereft heart grow helplessly fonder,
memories fade softly as the summer breeze befalls,
  
                         as gentle feather’d touch
                         the evanescent sunset afterglow
                         where the earth and sky align
                         the dimming of the day

         loving can heal
the poet’s bleeding words,
loving can mend your soul ―

                         the perennial dawning of an
                         unpromised new day
                         will someday come again

        bequeathed like the bluebird’s mirthful song
to bring forth nascent wild flowers’ blossoming petals
              flourishing in the meadow of my heart


                 *Someone you used to know
© March 2017
Thank you for reading
.
A.
SEROTONIN FIX FOR YOUR AESTHETICS

B.
WHAT'S PAST IS MOMENTARY,
THE PRESENT IS ETERNITY

C.
ALL IS DUST

D.
PERSPECTIVE RENDERS ALL

E.
THAT ELYSIAN APERTURE DARKENS IN TOTAL RECKONING

F.
PERPETUAL CONTINUUM

G.
LOST IN AN OCTOBER DESCENT

H.
THE SOUL DOES ROAM

I.
EXCEED INTROSPECTION, RECEIVE INTENTION

J.
REAL MEMORY, SURREAL THEME

K.
FOLLOW THY HEATHEN DIRECTIVE (TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH AND) ON TO EXALTATION

L.
THE MATRIX HAS YOU

M.
GLITCHED HISTORY

N.
LET THE SUBTLE WORD SOAR

O.
YOU BROKE ME THOROUGHLY

P.
WAITING ALONE ON THIS SATELLITE

Q.
SHATTER THE SKY

R.
JUDGE WITH AS MANY ASPECTS IN MIND

S.
EMPATHY IS DIVINITY

T.
THIEVIUS RICTUS DEVILISH GENTILITY

U.
ADVENTURE WAS NEVER A CRIME

V.
CONTEXT IS ALL THAT EVER IS

W.
KNOW THY DRUG/KNOWLEDGE IS DOPE

X.
AZURE HAZE OF SUMMER VIBRANCY

Y.
MESCALITO TORNADO ON DESERT SANDS

Z.
DOOMSDAY KISS
{[UPPER-CASE](OBJECTIVE)}
ryn Mar 2015
Blue is the boulder overlooking the bay
Loosely pocked by weather-worn stains
Unwavering guardian of all that lay
Enigmatic yet silently screaming its pains

Blue is the reflection dancing playfully
Laid generously by the twilight moon
Upon the vast canvas of the darkened sea
Elated ripples readily accepting such a boon

Blue is the halo encircling the moon
Lavish circlet gifted by the sun
Unnoticed by eyes that slumbered too soon
Evading the sands of time that run

Blue is the silhouette of a lone sailboat
Lurching and bobbing by will of the waves
Unknowingly catching the zephyrs that float
Eluding the fingers from watery graves

Blue is the man; perched upon the boulder
Lapping up the stars mirrored upon the sea
Usurped heart of his had never sung drearier
Ensnared by woeful wonderment...
                                           *
*that man is me...
Left to these eon days.
Welcome to wonderland, I say.
An ethereal eternity in a moments gaze,
To ponder beyond the barriers of time and space.

For a split-second reality flickers;
Beautiful in it's deliverance,
Sublime/oblivious:
Nocturnal firelight on shamanic sands,
Mescaline transcendent communion with the land.
Some daze inspiration takes me.

Suspended here in this celestial haze,
A clairvoyant glance into the eye of the maze.
The cleansing radiance of our empyreal ways;
Left in this aeon daze.
Jordan Hudson Nov 2018
Arctic lands, cold as ice sands
Northern lights, and Midwestern brands
Malls and food are all to do
Corn fields and racing too
This is the cold zone
South people stay home
While we all complain
They have the better way
Factories, farms, and houses
Beaches, warm weather, now this
They eat and walk in the heat
Sitting inside and getting sick
While they walk outside and swim
We suffer living
We are giving
Money just to go down there
To breathe ocean air
It's not fair
Have to live it out, at least for now
I'll be leaving to go down south
Have to finish school here
And then I can leave in a few years
I hope I can make it to the sea
Where the water is warm and clean
Down there is where I will be
We are the ones left behind
While the rest are fine
Down by the water, right by the beach
While we are stuck next to trees
I hate living in the cold
Sana Feb 2015
Won't you dare
Step in the storm?
Won't you dare
Cup the hand of fate in yours?

Lead on the way
Amidst corridors of blazing sands
Won't you let the friction carve?
Your hands, your sight and heart?

Brushing against your face,
Peeling off your gentle fate
My friend; won't you dare?
And step in the roaring lair?

For ashes and dust
Is this greyish world
So burn the flame
And light in fumes

Hear the tapping of your feet
And feel your sole melt away
On strange wooden lands
Sprinkled with blazing sand

Catch the pebbles
Struck at you
Let it burden till you grieve,
Or build the castle of your dream

Set ablaze, set ablaze
Set yourself ablaze;
Let yourself combust and scarred
And become the blazing star
CA Guilfoyle Oct 2015
Sonoran desert
sacred hot breathed
scorch of footsteps, blood red sands
sun bleached, bones and skulls
this wash, a hallowed holy ghost
an unnerving place of hiss and fire
molten sun to dry the water
a drowning fever of red prickly sweat
last night, the Yaqui man you met
undulating in a purification ceremony
lashing, the energy cords cut
he is laughing like coyote, wild eyed
green the velvet, desert peyote
and you have come to understand
the universe in a fleck of sand.
CA Guilfoyle Mar 2017
In Florida
the beach cut in half
cool sun baked cake, one side blue
the other side white in swirling sands
and after the waves of tide left
birds stamped footprints, webbed and wet
disappearing in the afternoon sun
sand art lost and windswept.
Bending the benevolence
Into a lucid sky of white,
An indulgence of an
Evocatively colourful odessy.
My dearest mother
Of the muse,
A whispering sea
Of beckoning delicacy.
Divulging enriching
Secrets of the tides.
Majestic sands of salty
Caramel delight,
Unravelling the enigmatic
Solitude of time.
Grains of meandering
Contemplation;
Emancipating the mind
From the burden
Of the distortive rhythm,
And into the truest dream
Of night,
Where the spirit chimes solely
In awakened starlight.
CK Baker Feb 13
Dry veins branch the dead gulch
cinder cone set on a marbled tan scape
fanning sands sketch, ephemeral
fossil plates fold under columns of gray

Mountain back steep at the crevasse
sinkhole spots form on parallel nine
sulfur pipe stems from molten ash
aching shrubs and crumbling spines

silt fields cover the foothills
swayback shed at the whipple tree barn
tumbledown shacks form the patchwork
from goat canyon ranch to big bison farm

Salt lake fractured with amber
sickle-bush cut at the bowline knot
half-moon traced by the viper
oxbow streams, and valley grot
Marya123 Sep 2018
If I could write my life as a poem
For millions who'll read, understand, think
I'd conjure an epic, a mystery
A tale on edge, a tragedy's brink.

I'd weave gripping waves of pleasure
Together with heart-wrenching tides of pain
A sea of battles with no leisure
Of joyful wins going against the grain.

I'd stitch metaphors with gleeful pride
Constructing rhythm with a bit of rhyme
I'd dabble with similes here and there
It'd be my thread on the sands of time.

But when I see my life as it is now
How different it is from my lovely tale
It retains its mystery, some agony
A once-green crop grown dead and stale.

A lost yarn of mistakes and pitfalls
With regret binding the threads as one
Repeated faults with no known structure
A once-free verse that is trapped, undone.

So I'll cast away my dream of a life
In a graveyard as a forgotten goal.
Some dreams never come true, it seems
Just like some lives will never be whole.
CA Guilfoyle Aug 2017
I think it quite strange living here walled by this house
when I was wilder than now I lived in nature
stalking birds and pollen laden things
always my toes in sands or hot footed in summer.
I was in love with the sky, no matter the weather
in storms I hid beneath branching cedars
sleeping on mossy pillows, in the woods of my backyard.
I never gave much thought to houses then, I only went there
to sleep or eat and waited to leave again
waited for an inkling of sun to warm the cold grass
spent days climbing trees, red plums and cherries
I imagined that's how life would always be,
living outdoors under the sun or clouds
wet with rain, always picking flowers.
Bryce Jun 2018
Gliding deftly along the city street
rolling quick and constantly
onward to some unknown scene,
some backward park in the nighttime
smoke curling from these
parted lips, moist and inviting
calling me somewhere I've never seen.

New day, new night
new feelings, rage in delight
fill me with your hilarious entropy,
knock my quarks into the next century,
will you please?

Now you're smoking the pipe and all at once you are free
between you and me, this smoke is thicker and sticks
like glue,
wispy and dreamy and the world spins and calls Toltec
telephone company can't pay me for all those calls collected
and rendered obsolete
Sun god dead as that silly calendar meme

Amaterasu,
and Imma tell you
these ladies in the picnic table
buried alive for boxed lunch and god's brunch
Jesus ******* Christ
and a indelible roster of good guys,
to which we all must strive to live and die
behind,
never moving forward
chasing our tails like a sick dog
under the jasmine runner between the decades-old tanbark
imported from overseas
dead trees
dead canine
and oh isn't it just divine?

You see it, pretty lady.
I can see it hiding behind your eyes
the things you don't tell the others because you're afraid
if they found out,
you'd be crucified.

Well honey I hate to inform,
With KGB efficiency that these love-a-dumbs
aint Methuselah,
they'll be dead!
long before your flood of tears tears me from the land
ballistas me across the great expanse to some strange Ararat
of the eastern seaboard,
or maybe wash me deep along the 80
into the desert sands and tiles
on a leaky cell phone screen
desperately trying to dial home on low battery,
realizing all this was one big deferred dream,
baking in the sun and shriveling
oh well, back to the grindstone-- all those lies plucked your nose,
gotta cut it back to size,
'else your soul it'll outgrow

Don't worry honey bee
It hasn't happened to me,
and We know with calcuable mathematical truth
that it'll never happen to you.
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