Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"santorini" poems
Suddenly it’s broken. My beloved lies below my hands. Aquamarine, amethyst and citrine. My stones now unstrung. You were my ‘promise ring’ my ‘engagement jewelry’. You gave it to me and I promised to return to you Santorini. Then it shifts: I am pleading in your aquamarine waters. “Forgive me” Pleading to your citrine hills. “I promise” Pleading, pleading while your amethyst moon watches, because it is always watching.
0
Apr 28, 2011
Apr 28, 2011 at 9:47 AM UTC
Necklace Nightmare
Remember the glass house im talking about? The house inside the forest? Buy and built me that house, then I will marry you. Buy me a car, send me to driving school, allow me to drive and let me take you to everywhere then I will marry you. Promised me to attend all the festivals here in the Philippines. lets dance, sing and lost to every corner of the street then I will marry you. Lets take a ride to a dolphin, dive with them deeper as much as we could then I will marry you. Lets take a flight to Europe, see the sunset in Santorini, take my dream shot to the beautiful Eiffel tower and walk me around to the Rome City then I will marry you. Im afraid of heights but lets take a jump to 15000 ft above the ground and if we could do that then I will marry you. believe in the God I believed in, my God said strong faith can move mountains and if we're two we could make it through, then I will marry you. You know how to make me happy but if you could do it every minute,   then I will marry you. If this is too much too much to ask for, then just love me till I die and l will marry you.. Dont ask me to love you, because I already do, that's why I will marry you.
0
Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 11:01 PM UTC
I will marry you
Distant island shapes beguiling Floating ghosts of far off land Appear sentinel as we lay Hot and sunbathed on the sand. Scorching beach has tricked our minds Ever beckoning cool seas flow Finely placed as time stands still Myths of people long ago Heat above the deep caldera Yet at water’s edge a breeze Every wave a stroke of calmness Drags the black sand out with ease Pushing, combing lava rock Once a liquid burning hot Hearts massaged by the tender noise Deep sighs as the day burns on Windy gusts caress unclad torsos Smiling we hold hands out to catch Throwing our heads back with the pleasure Letting our warm brown frames collapse Lazy resting towels on bodies Sunbed dreaming, time for lunch Decisions on the midday menu A carafe of red or white, too much! Later when the sun’s behind us Deserted beaches for the night Couples then prepare for evening Soon tavernas come alight Poolside dwelling welcomes back Two weary souls from day outside Scorching sun takes all about us Thanks for love where we abide Since we came and soaked our souls In this perfect atmosphere Love has blossomed even further All is wonderful never fear Patio evenings lying out Herb aroma fills the nose Drifting in and out of sleepy Eyes feel heavy in repose Cool wet noses brush our legs Warm fur strokes a silken pass Feline friends have come to visit Glad that we are home at last Nervous ******* lying still Mewing loudly all surpassed Two so gentle but true survivors Bright eyes hiding traumas past How lovely to have given respite As more and more attached we grew Warm and tender stroking softly Alongside us as if they knew
0
Feb 3, 2010
Feb 3, 2010 at 12:11 PM UTC
Santorini rhyme
Distant island shapes beguiling Floating ghosts of far off land Appear sentinel as we lay Hot and sunbathed on the sand. Scorching beach has tricked our minds Ever beckoning cool seas flow Finely placed as time stands still Myths of people long ago Heat above the deep caldera Yet at water’s edge a breeze Every wave a stroke of calmness Drags the black sand out with ease Pushing, combing lava rock Once a liquid burning hot Hearts massaged by the tender noise Deep sighs as the day burns on Windy gusts caress unclad torsos Smiling we hold hands out to catch Throwing our heads back with the pleasure Letting our warm brown frames collapse Lazy resting towels on bodies Sunbed dreaming, time for lunch Decisions on the midday menu A carafe of red or white, too much! Later when the sun’s behind us Deserted beaches for the night Couples then prepare for evening Soon tavernas come alight Poolside dwelling welcomes back Two weary souls from day outside Scorching sun takes all about us Thanks for love where we abide Since we came and soaked our souls In this perfect atmosphere Love has blossomed even further All is wonderful never fear Patio evenings lying out Herb aroma fills the nose Drifting in and out of sleepy Eyes feel heavy in repose Cool wet noses brush our legs Warm fur strokes a silken pass Feline friends have come to visit Glad that we are home at last Nervous ******* lying still Mewing loudly all surpassed Two so gentle but true survivors Bright eyes hiding traumas past How lovely to have given respite As more and more attached we grew Warm and tender stroking softly Alongside us as if they knew
Continue reading...
52
Streched out gazing, on the sands, Of one more of the common seas, An orange orb setting slowly apparent, Shiny path of light heavenly,reaching my feet, Taking me briefly,to creations wonderous, Minds magnanimous,hearts Alexandrian, A short utopia of a world universally real! The unrests forgotten, all toils borne stoic. All shall pass,Endurance is all, truly Human! As the path sinks into the deep waters dark, To shine in worlds other,rays of morning hope, I know they shall witness the same, some morning! Night lights of revelry beckon me,the traveller ever, I merge in them,the sunset feeling sacred in my heart, Praying,May it hold true for all people all over Earth!
0
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 3:37 AM UTC
Thoughts of a Traveller on a Greecian Sunset in Santorini.
i. Barefoot, the sod tickling ourn toe's Aquamarine, cometh mine queen; Down the trail's of immortality We shalt go. ii. Long happily ever after None more manacle's; To fasten ourn wrist's For we shalt be unimpeded, by eachother's kiss. iii. Let the other's wish Who art jealous; Of ourn vow's of dedication This is reality, not some t.v station. iv. We shalt build a nation Out of the Philippine's; And Greece Combined. v. A concoction of The finest Misamis Occidental lambanog; And the relish of Thine own king's santorini assyrtiko white wine. ©Brandon cory nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl Jane nagley/ Filipino rose dedication
0
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 9:15 PM UTC
santorini assyrtiko white wine mixed with lambanog
Catch my mooring rope And come ashore with gentle tugs, Sweetly, softly, nibble on my ear, And run your fingers over my weathered sails. Trace the notches on my docks, For the places I’ve been – Santorini last spring, Venezia, Marseilles in the fall. Get rid of the doubt that hangs Like an albatross around your neck, Capsizing fears sending tremors up my bows. Simply breathe like the swelling tide, And sing a sailor’s song, The one about the Spanish ladies, “For we will be jolly, and drown melancholy, With a health to each jovial and true-hearted soul.” Loosen my knots and we’ll drift out to sea, Two travelers with one home.
0
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 4:01 PM UTC
The Mooring Rope
Watching you wait Tanned from the sun Your glistening glow On your week grown dark shadow In your hot white shirt Almost too hot to touch Sitting on a Santorini wall Your piercing dark features Looking for me Waiting for me While I watch you
0
Nov 2, 2022
Nov 2, 2022 at 3:06 AM UTC
Hot white
Jane was given a year to live Febricity, nausea and cancer would assist her through that year Marching headfirst into this battle Apropos of nothing, she packed up and left Maybe she broke down, maybe she got up Junction of her heart and mind, she was preparing to die whilst simultaneously starting to live Julian Alps, Tianzi Mountains, Santorini, Petra, Machu Picchu, she saw them all Augmented her mind Separated her ignorance October fell and she was hospitalized, the hospital was now her personal party with constant visitors Novice to cancer no more, now she was the leader Decease couldn’t stop her, she was alive
0
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 2:37 AM UTC
12
*I should be ****** just by* the colours
0
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 6:22 AM UTC
Santorini
Have you ever been to Santorini on a boat when you were young and blond and gorgeous and free? Have you ever been to Santorini when life lay before you like a joke a challenge a high Have you ever been to Santorini when the sun is so high you feel you could die If you’ve never been to Santorini you don’t know me but  trust me just give it a try!
0
Nov 30, 2020
Nov 30, 2020 at 10:31 PM UTC
Santorini
isn't great for much, but we get the best sunsets. no, it's not the caribbean certainly not santorini or venice or the aurora borealis in alaska but we get by, with pink cotton candy clouds, edges pinched and dragged across the inky sky, edges twirled up like feathers on a dove, the sky behind dissolving into shades of indigo and cerulean, fuchsia and mango, sunshine and cobalt. no, they're not life-changing but they're beautiful to me yes, we get by in my little corner of the world. -a.c.b
0
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 4:50 PM UTC
my little corner of the world...
¿Qué te digo, que te escribo? ¿Cómo poner en verso este sentimiento que por ti siento? ¿Qué poeta invoco para que me ayude a componerte las más bellas letras? Una poesía que contenga consonantes que te lleguen al alma! ¿Cómo se describe lo indescriptible? ¿Lo que no tiene historia, lo que nunca ha existido? ¿Cómo describo tus besos si nunca en ellos me he perdido? ¿Cómo describo que el toque de tus manos incinera las partes más frías de mí? ¿Cómo hablo de la libertad de tu amor si estoy presa en él? ¿Cómo dirijo la pluma, con que tinta la escribo? ¡Te he conjugado verbos con más letras que el alfabeto chino! Como decirte que los dioses de la antigua Grecia se han unido en Santorini, solo para demandarle al Mar Egeo, que te detengas a escuchar las olas de mi mar que anhelan atarse a tu destino. Que así como ese maremoto provoco la erupción de su caldera, tú por ende, uses mis caderas para que fluya esta erupción ardiente en tu entrega. ¿Qué serenata te ofrezco si donde vivo no habitan ruiseñores? Más tengo una inmensa necesidad de cantarte, de decirte con la melodía de mis besos; que te quiero, que me enterneces, que me apeteces, que este amor por ti cada vez más crece. Que eres el agua que hidrata mi ser. La pasión realizada en hombre. El hombre que florece mi esperanza en el amor. Que tu sonrisa es igual a la sensación del ciego que ve por primera vez-irreal. Que el sonido de tu voz, es entender por qué Dios creo el mundo. Que el brillo de tus ojos, traspaso las venas de mis miedos y por siempre las neutralizo. ¿Dime, que te digo? ¿Dime, como te lo escribo? ¿Dime, como te conquisto? ¿Dime, como te miro? ¿Cuál poeta invoco para que me ayude a escribirte la mejor poesía? ¡Si tú eres la mejor poesía!!!!! LeydisProse 5/22/2017 https://m.facebook.com/LeydisProse/ Image may contain: one or more people
0
Jun 1, 2017
Jun 1, 2017 at 11:30 AM UTC
Que te escribo?
¿Qué te digo, que te escribo? ¿Cómo poner en verso este sentimiento que por ti siento? ¿Qué poeta invoco para que me ayude a componerte las más bellas letras? Una poesía que contenga consonantes que te lleguen al alma! ¿Cómo se describe lo indescriptible? ¿Lo que no tiene historia, lo que nunca ha existido? ¿Cómo describo tus besos si nunca en ellos me he perdido? ¿Cómo describo que el toque de tus manos incinera las partes más frías de mí? ¿Cómo hablo de la libertad de tu amor si estoy presa en él? ¿Cómo dirijo la pluma, con que tinta la escribo? ¡Te he conjugado verbos con más letras que el alfabeto chino! Como decirte que los dioses de la antigua Grecia se han unido en Santorini, solo para demandarle al Mar Egeo, que te detengas a escuchar las olas de mi mar que anhelan atarse a tu destino. Que así como ese maremoto provoco la erupción de su caldera, tú por ende, uses mis caderas para que fluya esta erupción ardiente en tu entrega. ¿Qué serenata te ofrezco si donde vivo no habitan ruiseñores? Más tengo una inmensa necesidad de cantarte, de decirte con la melodía de mis besos; que te quiero, que me enterneces, que me apeteces, que este amor por ti cada vez más crece. Que eres el agua que hidrata mi ser. La pasión realizada en hombre. El hombre que florece mi esperanza en el amor. Que tu sonrisa es igual a la sensación del ciego que ve por primera vez-irreal. Que el sonido de tu voz, es entender por qué Dios creo el mundo. Que el brillo de tus ojos, traspaso las venas de mis miedos y por siempre las neutralizo. ¿Dime, que te digo? ¿Dime, como te lo escribo? ¿Dime, como te conquisto? ¿Dime, como te miro? ¿Cuál poeta invoco para que me ayude a escribirte la mejor poesía? ¡Si tú eres la mejor poesía!!!!! LeydisProse 5/22/2017 https://m.facebook.com/LeydisProse/ Image may contain: one or more people
Continue reading...
38
Everything became love So grateful wine deep graphics Stripes and lines the fab of four Ladies fantastic Apollo Set deeply to her body Powerful sun the Trojan horse Her robe velvet blue stars of course Shooting out love to the Cosmo "Holy Water" Posedian The Gods Athena curtains That Grecian Santorini island He became all  magical Houdini hands So artsy Adobe paint her he's drinking Japanese Amazake shake His art through her sheerness robe He kissed her earlobe She was perfectly fitted inside his suit He was probing like a love circuit We have all types of soul we make Our own bed Some people aren't cut out paper dolls to be wed Work of art whatever draws inside your fancy He was left to think way at the end of her brush She still has her cheeks At the time he so wanted to crush All curb appeals statue of gardens We beg your pardon women in their robes, somewhere over Judy The rainbow cubes Grecian summertime taking away that wasted grime Doing your own time Alice tea party Whole wine crystalline glass And just when you look he disappears Your blood sweat ancient years Terry cloth wet tears globe-lit His sexuality unexpectedly surprising Her vivacious waves fit diamond point of return his Target Paints memories Adobe genius Sunset nightly dip he's the Adonis Come to my window but don't leave me crumbs More sunlight over my lace face I remember the feeling my whole body felt numb To succumb on a mysterious limb Like a headpiece meet the   Malevolent (King-fish) No home is a Castle until we make a wish The wicked cartoonist "Zazzle" Like a war zone bloodshed Warriors are coming Like the communist Please get it back to my Grecian finest What is really our very own masterpiece tiniest detail He has a stiff neck and I am On my Island of loves taking a sea whiff Something like a shark-encircled my body of emails Adobe print was all squares-fight The sentinel of squirrel didn't leave my sight My tears shaped the stained glass We are our own creation be heart no need to rip Grecian robe apart
0
Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 1:56 PM UTC
Grecian Robe Meet Adobe
Everything became love So grateful wine deep graphics Stripes and lines the fab of four Ladies fantastic Apollo Set deeply to her body Powerful sun the Trojan horse Her robe velvet blue stars of course Shooting out love to the Cosmo "Holy Water" Posedian The Gods Athena curtains That Grecian Santorini island He became all  magical Houdini hands So artsy Adobe paint her he's drinking Japanese Amazake shake His art through her sheerness robe He kissed her earlobe She was perfectly fitted inside his suit He was probing like a love circuit We have all types of soul we make Our own bed Some people aren't cut out paper dolls to be wed Work of art whatever draws inside your fancy He was left to think way at the end of her brush She still has her cheeks At the time he so wanted to crush All curb appeals statue of gardens We beg your pardon women in their robes, somewhere over Judy The rainbow cubes Grecian summertime taking away that wasted grime Doing your own time Alice tea party Whole wine crystalline glass And just when you look he disappears Your blood sweat ancient years Terry cloth wet tears globe-lit His sexuality unexpectedly surprising Her vivacious waves fit diamond point of return his Target Paints memories Adobe genius Sunset nightly dip he's the Adonis Come to my window but don't leave me crumbs More sunlight over my lace face I remember the feeling my whole body felt numb To succumb on a mysterious limb Like a headpiece meet the   Malevolent (King-fish) No home is a Castle until we make a wish The wicked cartoonist "Zazzle" Like a war zone bloodshed Warriors are coming Like the communist Please get it back to my Grecian finest What is really our very own masterpiece tiniest detail He has a stiff neck and I am On my Island of loves taking a sea whiff Something like a shark-encircled my body of emails Adobe print was all squares-fight The sentinel of squirrel didn't leave my sight My tears shaped the stained glass We are our own creation be heart no need to rip Grecian robe apart
Continue reading...
78
An insatiable wanderlust I wish to be, Beyond the horizon I ought to see. The land, the sea and many places, To meet and greet those beautiful faces. I wish to visit the spectacular Angkor Wat in Cambodia, Or tripping on a bumpy Leh-Ladakh Road ride in India. To swim among the tropical fishes in the Maldives, Or sitting at the edge of the Kalaupapa Peninsular Cliffs I wish to meditate at the peak of the Himalaya, Or adore the fascinating Great Wall of China. To romance at the Oia- Santorini in Greece, Or party at the Belearic Islands till the day ceased. I wish to watch the sunset illuminates the Pyramid of Giza, Or a calm sunbathe in the magical islands of Bora Bora. To get awed by the grandeur beauty of the Amazon, Or simply a Gandola ride in Venice like a Vagabond. I wish to sip the finest Bordeaux Wine in France, Or get drown in the madness of “Tomorrow land”. To visit the isolated Chile Easter Island, Or brave the arduous climb to the top of Fuji mountain. I wish to embark on a panoramic train ride to Machu Picchu, Or immersed on remnants of the mythical history of Peru. To witness the Aurora Borealis in Norway, Or the divine old city of Jerusalem is a must visit someday. I will travel through the land and the ocean, Could be a random plan without a direction. But I will travel far and I will travel near, And I will keep my feet rolling every where.
0
Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 11:54 AM UTC
The world- my bucket list
I lay the stem and foot of the wineglass next to the two Jennies of Morus Muskat on the windowsill above the sink. One is empty, the other has a glass left. I sweep sprinkles of glass onto the blotched paper towels in the trash, then put the bin and the dustpan and hand brush away beneath the sink. I glance out the window, leaning open-armed against the counter, and watch the tall grass dance to the breeze. The setting sun brushes the blades and the backyard and the dirt path, the porch resting in a shadow. I leave the sink and grab a glass from a cabinet and return. I pour the rest of the Muskat, getting every drop. I place the bottle on the sill and freeze. She is standing on the porch in her Santorini blue dress, the back stained in crimson from the small crater in the back of her head. The mush within her skull has rot, fragments of flesh caught in her dark hair. I clench my eyes, hoping she disappears, but when I reopen she is still there. I take a deep breath, letting the knots escape my bones. I gulp down the glass and walk out onto the porch. She doesn’t breathe or sway, a statue peering into the blades. Her lips are closed, her green eyes unblinking and settled, mascara rivers melted into her cheeks. Her expression feels like the calm of the broken and numbed, of those who have surrendered the fight. I say hello, again. She looks at me, her eyes unwavering. She glides over and skims her cold fingertips across my throat and down my arm as she leaves the porch, down the dirt path to the edge of the grass. She turns around and looks to me, and I follow the path to her. As I stroll through the mist, blue in the twilight, my heart pounds, though my mind is clear and set only on her. I reach her, and my breath has become shallow as she stares into my eyes. She kisses me, and it feels the same as it once had, but I taste metal and am overwhelmed by the smell of nitrocellulose. She turns and steps into the field. I get a glimpse at the hole, and see the decomposition and the maggots that have burrowed, writhing in the putrid flesh. She turns around, her eyes closed, and she reaches her hand towards me. I reach my hand out, but stop halfway. She senses my falter and puts her hand down. She opens her eyes, looking at me in disappointment that I would not let her lead me. She disappears, leaving behind an emptiness only she could fill. I remain paralyzed, my senses dulling, my heart slowing. As always, I turn around and follow the dirt path through the clear morning air and rays of sunrise. - by Aleksander Mielnikow (Alek the Poet)
0
Nov 17, 2019
Nov 17, 2019 at 8:55 PM UTC
As It Once Had
I lay the stem and foot of the wineglass next to the two Jennies of Morus Muskat on the windowsill above the sink. One is empty, the other has a glass left. I sweep sprinkles of glass onto the blotched paper towels in the trash, then put the bin and the dustpan and hand brush away beneath the sink. I glance out the window, leaning open-armed against the counter, and watch the tall grass dance to the breeze. The setting sun brushes the blades and the backyard and the dirt path, the porch resting in a shadow. I leave the sink and grab a glass from a cabinet and return. I pour the rest of the Muskat, getting every drop. I place the bottle on the sill and freeze. She is standing on the porch in her Santorini blue dress, the back stained in crimson from the small crater in the back of her head. The mush within her skull has rot, fragments of flesh caught in her dark hair. I clench my eyes, hoping she disappears, but when I reopen she is still there. I take a deep breath, letting the knots escape my bones. I gulp down the glass and walk out onto the porch. She doesn’t breathe or sway, a statue peering into the blades. Her lips are closed, her green eyes unblinking and settled, mascara rivers melted into her cheeks. Her expression feels like the calm of the broken and numbed, of those who have surrendered the fight. I say hello, again. She looks at me, her eyes unwavering. She glides over and skims her cold fingertips across my throat and down my arm as she leaves the porch, down the dirt path to the edge of the grass. She turns around and looks to me, and I follow the path to her. As I stroll through the mist, blue in the twilight, my heart pounds, though my mind is clear and set only on her. I reach her, and my breath has become shallow as she stares into my eyes. She kisses me, and it feels the same as it once had, but I taste metal and am overwhelmed by the smell of nitrocellulose. She turns and steps into the field. I get a glimpse at the hole, and see the decomposition and the maggots that have burrowed, writhing in the putrid flesh. She turns around, her eyes closed, and she reaches her hand towards me. I reach my hand out, but stop halfway. She senses my falter and puts her hand down. She opens her eyes, looking at me in disappointment that I would not let her lead me. She disappears, leaving behind an emptiness only she could fill. I remain paralyzed, my senses dulling, my heart slowing. As always, I turn around and follow the dirt path through the clear morning air and rays of sunrise. - by Aleksander Mielnikow (Alek the Poet)
Continue reading...
64
We touched antiquities... as relics in memories... in poetically sorrowful times... gobbling... Thessaloniki, Kalabaka, Patka, Mykonos, Delos, Santorini climes Stood whereon Paul preached... Phillip's Alexander lived to die... far before Lord Byron romanticized Ferried blue and white seas... flapping blues and whites in skies Prowled upon Holstein grounds... amongst surreal beings, windmills, cats, drifting sails and olive pounds Whilst grasping threads of life... with love's memories... losing all to time ©  2023 Jim Davis
0
Oct 2, 2023
Oct 2, 2023 at 10:58 AM UTC
Hellenistic
Rhapsodies written in hues--marmalade, violet, the blues,-- Everything everywhere... No less of an impression that's Adorned with the innocence you so choose. Mimicked by your favorite wine, a deep red, magically,-- You masterfully rose from the canvases, beautifully composed... Loose cotton like rules forgotten,-- Openly confessing as if conclusions were foregone, yet-- Vocalized through your turquoise, lies an Eighth of life at large, unmistaken.
0
Mar 6, 2024
Mar 6, 2024 at 9:22 PM UTC
Santorini in Color