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SøułSurvivør Dec 2015
palindrome

shivering stars with horn
moon trumpeting like
mystic swan sailing
the scintillating
galaxies
scintillating the
sailing swan mystic
like trumpeting moon
horn with stars shivering



SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/11/2015
Dedicated to Jeffard Stier... I so much appreciate your support of my poetry! Happy Thanksgiving!
Heavy Hearted Jul 2018
;heart made of metal, you're too hard to soothe
as an iron *****, you coldly shine smooth.
n head full of ember, your trickily burnt  fire-
With its heat licks my lips, scolding hot with desire.
And then
Voice made of water,
may you speak of unknown
rivers lakes- oceans blue
Typhoon and cyclone.

And soul made of moonstone- may
outwardly you shine,
Dance, scintillating- a
pure serpentine.
Marco Buschini Nov 2016
The pulsating, pearl moon
Harbours the last remnants of romance,
Scintillating, in the valourous sky,
As I surrender to call upon her spirit
To bring her back to me.
I longingly strip, craving the vivacity of her caress.
Irresistible, I would yield to the perpetual
Power of her touch.
Immersed in the shadowy depths,
Rippling serenities of thought.
I glimpse at her reflective soul,
Shimmering upon the ravenous river,
Emanating from the stars
In all their graceful radiance.
Her heart illuminates
The benevolent evening.
The breath of inevitability
Stings my skin, as I dress,
Firing my arrows of impatience
Disconsolately, into the shivering azure,
Hoping for a way
To ******* her very being.
This Morning
The Golden Sun Rose
With a Midas touch
Smiled at the Skies

In Scintillating Colours
Bedewed the Atmosphere
In a Lush Orange Squash
A Rush of Pomegranate Reds
A Spread of Fiery hot Saffron Threads

Far Away
Billowed
The Feathery White
Pristine Kashmir Clouds

The Mirthful birds
On the wire , Chirped
A Mesmerised me ,
Revelled
In the Early Morning Bliss

Nature Imbues
Taking away the Sky's Blues
Sunrise experience on 21/12/2017
Styles 12 Aug 2018


secrets at dusk
tasted vigorous as
Coltrane blues

in a smokey nightclub
under mysterious saxophone seas

this style is not my own
but it helps me swim better

I decided to adopt it
curious why it tugs ruthless
on spit fire sleeves

deliciously drowning me free.




forest moons at night

help you drop it all
bags of unwanted programs
flung from broken chimneys

violet threads pass perfect
through kitchen chipped glass

moth wings burning summer up
like her eyelash fluttering innocently on some other guy's cheek

shattering divisions snag
on moonlight betrayal dance

enormous sea hooks chop in
helpless lips seduced
mad quicksilver rush

reserve this room for my only friend

we have private letters to write
on a future night when
god dreams come true.

This is for you.





My only friend.


What weighs heavy is certain light
how it pierces
through troubled waters.

A million traces of faces
lit up in every beam.

One night I felt it bleed through me
using rivers of sun-fire screams.

Volcanic poetry spoke without a sound.

Jim Morrison breaking through doors
under spells of hypnotic waves
wild vibrant shimmering
on multi-colored sheets.

This style is not my own
but it helped me lava streak
across bitter shores.




Now,

my voice strays away.

Gone hunting

a broken well voice
picked up by an old cracked bucket
leaking simple worded wishes

deciding to voluntarily borrow her
stolen forest eyes.

I heard them speak translucent leaf
on a summer day
when clairvoyant kids
heard God speak

on pathways of brilliant blue lake

when sunshine
whispered us
in scintillating ripples

right before our astounded,
washed feet.




I am dripping funeral summer sweat
under tombstone studded trees

smiling while choking in
liquid clouded dark.

Alone but not alone.

Mighty Ghosts of heaven
holding my head up

making sure the Nile
doesn't gush out while
I still cannot even write or speak

turn my notebooks into confetti
nothing describes this mysterious sea

a new species of saxophone waves
has belted its killer wonderland
sound out across an entire broken stage.


*

I can picture us
walking barefoot
on star contacted sand

gazing out
under champion chandelier wonders

walking on Texas Lightning storm colors
bellies full on Rumi soul food

our secret flames
burning up
plastic playgrounds

violating propriety
on some nuclear guarded beach

schools of fish cut
by saxophone hooked seas

blasted by vaults of unwrapped poems
someone else wrote perfect
in our dreams

we hope one day
the unpredictable silence
of simple worded wishes

will help us

extravagantly bloom
new spring leaves
rain stamped on tender delicious works

after winter is done
savagely wishing us dead
we are touched by other worlds.
https://youtu.be/6xcwt9mSbYE

For Drew
jane taylor May 2016
running
deliquescing into nature
i am engulfed in stillness

i encounter a deer as i round a corner
its chestnut eyes intensely sense
something wild within me
transfixed
we meld palpably
whispering our essence

myopic views warp into acute focus
golden flowers stretch and arch
and yawning into the sun
swell with bursts of luster
whilst violets polka dot the path
with lilac luminescence

dead tree trunks
mutating into masterpieces
yearn for new life
drawing in the squirrels

yellow-bellied birds
hover
sensing my motions
whilst woodland winds undulate
pine scented waves of sea salt oceans

my ears enchantingly enhanced
by bristling leaves caressing trees
as scintillating amber butterflies
dance in synch
with the clock tower’s
ancient chiming

a gust of wind
catches a patch of sand
and sends it quivering
fusing high in summer air
then falling soft as feathers

hidden fairies prance about
answering unheard questions
problems dissolve in emerald meadows
without a hint of striving

essays write themselves
upon my mind
poetry flows through me
wings of meadowlarks
trace my face with nuances
interlaced with connotations

rushing home
i write it down
then bowing i take credit
for what was etched upon my soul
by a sunbeam in the forest

©2016janetaylor
jonni inferno Jul 2018
i met her    
in a waking dream    
as i walked beside    
the sylvar stream    
whose chattering laughter    
shifted suddenly    
into a sylvar pool    
of enchanted silence    
a mirrored glaze    
in muted    
misty
dawning rays    
    
her cascading mane    
a crimson flare    
sea-green eyes    
alluring stare    
my heart stopped    
to see her there    
reposed    
'pon a verdant garden lee 
beside    
the misting sylvar mere    
'neath    
the weeping willow trees    
    
dahlia lips    
whispering desire    
vermilion plunder splayed    
spellbound 
by her charms    
heart pounding    
thundering    
captured    
i stay    
an' wi' faire
lithesome beauty lay    
'pon a lush an' vibrant field    
beside    
the misting sylvar mere    
'neath    
the weeping willow trees    
    
we lay there    
lost in time    
locked    
in the silence 
of kindred minds    
an' i knew her name    
tho she spoke it not    
sipped i then
the misty morning dew    
from precious lips
that from me drew    
all that i    
ever thought    
or felt    
or knew
'pon the grasses lush and green    
beside    
the softly glowing mere    
'neath    
the weeping willow trees    
    
soft sings    
the whippoorwill    
the meadowlark    
an' mourning dove    
their voices weaving spells    
for lover's yearning hearts    
in the meadow    
by the way    
where my love an' i    
do lay    
entwined  
'pon the gleaming sylvan shore    
beside    
the shining crystal lake    
'neath
the weeping willow trees    
    
alas    
the dawning days    
were passing
when came malevolence    
within
a thund'ring tempest    
lightnings flashed
in ragged gashes
'cross the heaven's    
stygian passes
an' from those
gnawing caverns
spewed
a raging
howling
demon's brood
an' down flew they
by the sylvar stream
where my love
and i
entranced
did lay
beside
the mystic sylvar lake
'neath
the weeping willow trees
    
then from my arms    
vile creatures tore    
my lifesong    
my heart's blood    
my one    
and only love
her scintillating form    
they ripped    
her silent
piercing cries    
bleeding    
thru my soul
an' took her they  
far from this    
battered    
desert shore    
as her soundless    
painful    
chorus fades    
an' leaves me
here alone    
to lay    
'pon these shifting lifeless sands    
beside    
this sylvar lake of tears    
'neath    
the weeping willow trees    
    
the meadowlark    
her spellsong sings    
thru ebon winter's    
weathering    
the silver stream    
her laughter froze    
this heart    
once fire    
a soulless stone    
    
so now this raven
winged    
doth fly
to scour the bruised    
an' shadowed skies    
to find my dove    
an' bring her home    
to lay
'pon these frozen brittle stones
beside
the darkened sylvar tarn
'neath    
the weeping willow trees    
    
thru timeless age    
an' dangerous realms    
i followed    
her silent    
morbid    
ravenings    
as her grisly    
mewling pleas    
hollowed out my soul    
'til at last    
i found her    
chained an' bound    
lost    
deep within    
peculiar planes    
an' baneful realms    
far from    
the laughing sylvar stream    
far from    
the weeping willow trees    
    
her lament    
of bitter tears    
an' fear    
sliced    
thru my defenses    
a doomed    
pernicious heart    
she was    
wandering    
thru deepest depths    
where madness reigns    
all hope destroyed    
hell's minions    
reveled
unconstrained    
    
my dove    
called i    
my love    
'tis i    
once more    
thrice more  
time  
and time again    
till finally    
she hearkened    
to my voice    
    
true love    
recall us    
you and i    
dancing    
thru ageless realms    
consider us    
twirling    
under heaven's wings    
she
spinning
at my fingertips

an' i  
drew her then    
breathless    
into my arms    
ambrosia lips    
her sweet alms    
from her dark pain    
i did drink    
of her    
malignant sorrow    
i did partake  
my questing    
thirsting hunger    
willingly  
did i sate  
gathering all    
her shattered pieces    
from those altered    
blighted    
reaches
    
chains    
now broken    
i carried her
'pon wings    
of true love's    
sylvar light    
far from    
these darksworn legions    
into    
the dawning night's    
farthest regions    
    
an' there    
close by    
the laughing    
whispering    
sylvar stream    
lay her gently    
'pon the verdant flowing shore    
beside
our gleaming slyvar mere    
'neath    
our weeping willow trees    
    
under glimmering    
starlit heavens    
sing    
the whippoorwill    
the meadowlark    
an' mourning dove    
whose soulful songs    
compose    
for yearning lovers    
charms of hope    
where pools    
the laughing    
sylvar stream    
whose mirrored gaze    
draws us deep within    
celestial    
starlit    
wanderings    
  
as the wind    
whispering
sighs    
thru our hearts  
as we lay entwined    
'pon a verdant garden lee    
beside  
our misting sylvar mere    
'neath  
our silent    
weeping  
willow trees    
      
p j upchurch
Travis Green Dec 2018
His voice takes me into outer worlds
of love languages speaking inside
my mansion, strong soothing diction
drifting over me on a summer night.
his shiny teeth reels me inside his
mind-blowing ride, an upbeat rhyme
intensifying into an intoxicating high.

His arms take control over my spine,
so crystal-clear and captivating, the
sensual power of sheer perfection
making me weak all over.

I can feel the heat waves inside of me
gliding and grinding into emerald
gleams, the scintillating sky bursting
bright in my light, while I smile and
gaze at the celestial stars in your
presence.
Heavy Hearted May 24
down by the river, we see through the shore,
and bare witness as human proclivities roar.

Diving into the water, we hold its wet hand
for the rivers enlivenment, so few understand:

so down by the river, we will lay in its bed
while lullabies sung by the lapping waves tread;
as the river explains, in liquid morals unsaid-
its teachings, in riptides ,flowing into our head.
  
as the sun on the water, scintillating, does glow
it calls to us now as we're destined,

we go.
sledgehammers finish off the drudgery
some moments are pounding
others are cool like the crystal ocean
a depth of vision is necessary
if you wish to transcend
the edges of your inevitable vulnerability
i am in need of shelter from her fire
a muse that burns all that she inspires
a silent lover of beauty
furthering her art
between the spaces of dreams
our fingers slip into everything
and become entangled like twine
rest here and unwind your heart strings
the scintillating heat is blinding yet rejuvenating
if you are my love then uncover your soul
give naked silence a chance to grow
surround my faithless jungle
with your vines of hope
i am conscious of the lack of rope
this happiness is binding
like kindness climbing invisible ladders
you shatter the silhouette of my perfect idol
i sneak a peak at a photograph
that you have kept hidden
silver visions destined to uncover
the lust of beauty
smiled in my direction
if we wish to dance then circle around the fire
aspire for magic to abolish your name
switch places with your shadow
and feel the earth within your skin
give god a better reason than your sadness
and she may even begin to sing again
purple turtle Mar 16
Each candle may only burn so long
Some may not even taste its own fire ablaze
so profound, not even the wailing wind can topple
its potent peak
May not even see the swell sun that sacrifices itself every night for the scintillating stars
May not even hear the palmy peace past sorrowful sobs
May not even smell the swirling smoke of your fallen foe

May not even start its beginning
Philipp K J Feb 5
What's that rare precious gift
To present the grace of human race?
The branch of man
the land of seeds
that sprout and spread
And bear fruits
Of love that precedes
the mellow flesh and seeds
The fellow who makes the feeds
The love that filled the hills
the thrill of silent scenes
The killer will to still the love
And will to live within the love.

What's that rare precious gift
To present the face of human race?

An open heart
A winding embrace
Sweet overflowing lift
And a scintillating kiss!
will it surpass the praise?
Or suffice to surprise
Her a rare precious gift!
Writing a poem
By the lake
I found my pen shaking
As I SAW the whites of his
And the blue hue of a pupil
Dilating
And the sky was crimson but scintillating
And I realizing I was taking down his life
With a pen
Travis Green Dec 2018
We sit at the park late at night
feeling on each other’s flesh,
touching the love muscles that
spark rising seas inside our veins,
inhaling the beautiful memories
of our lives together, the moments
when we first met by the riverbank,
the waves dancing in the distance
upon our hearts.

There was a bright rhythm of dreams
inside your soul that made me fall
deep in love with you, your azure
eyes meeting mine, a treasure of
delight, an excitement running
wild, as the sun shined down
on the landscape.

Your sleek starlight surface
was a scintillating square of static
shocks striking my chests, a glittering
sensation spreading paradise across
my world.  I knew in that moment
you were the flashing light glowing
bright in my presence, the one that
could take me away from all of it,
the endless days and nights struggling
in love and bitter breakups, the world
pressed against my back, trying to
destroy the flame inside of me.

Now here we are curled up beside
each other, gently kissing tender
spots, welcoming the magic in the
air as it seeps inside our mansion.
―Go Forth
Flourish in The Light
Of The
Estival Sol,
Elysium of the Soul,
Once you have vanquished
The Stygian,
Your Soul
Awaits You―


~I bid you
Immortal Heartsease
And
Armistice of Ataraxia:
The Reverberation of our Souls
In the Key of Elysium~.





I. Archean Prelude

The echoes
of your
Memories of
The Light & Airwaves
Pine to
Bloom in Reminiscence
Over the
Days of Yore.


II. The Echoes of Existentiality

We are all atomic particles;
Molecular Particles,
Of an aromatic
Omniscient,
Omnipotent,
Omnipresent Mist:
The Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love

―Echo forth comrades―

~Evanesce,
Into the Empyrean,
Etherealized Lightscape
Until the
Visage of Creation
Enskies us
To the exalted
El Dorado~



II. Tempus Fugit

The Promise
Of the
Morrow
Is nigh:

The Yesteryears
Wax
Distant Ages,
Wax
Archean Aeons;

(Eventuality of Existence)

Our Bygone Days
Of Lovelit, Loveless Life,
Antiquate and
Our Soulwaves
Wax
The Spirit of
The Ancient of Days.


III. Nova Cosmogony

Betwixt the Realms
Of the
Beneficent Matriarch Mirror,
Beyond
Terraqueous Gaia
Unfurls the Vista,
Your Fulgurant Dreamscape:

Only the Sapient of Sages
Doth denude:

The Incorporeal Incarnation
Of
Virtue, it’s vesture,
Na’phesh

The Decrepitude of Withering
Dovens the Divine
In the
Vestibule of Vanity,
Sanctimony & Superciliousness
Thence deliquesce;
Bearing womb of Light.

IV. Celestial Morphology

Unveiling the Substance
Of Space and Time;
Spirit and Soul;
Euphony, Harmony;
Atrophy, Intrepidity
All are Entity

Once
Pristine yet vacuous,
Flourishing into
Mystical and shimmering
Nothingness, gropes
For Meta-Astral ―form;

Ventus Divinitas,
The Cosmogonist’s Agenda
Resonates
Through the
Inchoative Universe.

V. The Temporal Hither:

Her Genesis
Waxeth
Vestal Vicissitudes:

She is
The Twilit Quiver
Uprising in
Darts of the Dawn,

Until
Arrows of Antemeridian
Light Cascade
Our epidermis
With the incendiary
Sovereignty of Sol.

Dusk:
Chars the Canvas
Of Ethereal Skies,
Garnetiferous,
Moonlit, Martyred Mind’s Sky;
The Eve’s Imperator
And
Inquisitive Spirit Eyes.

By Luminaries
We’re ensorcelled
Corpulent with thought.

~Wondering upon,
Vacuous a fathomed
Cosmogenesis. ~



VI. Tempus et Spatium:


~There are
Edicts unseen
The Esoteric of the Macrocosm

Only the
Transcendent of Tellurians
May tell of
The Life-Rending,
Sunder forth:

Semantics in Constellations;
Gaian Whispers of Sylvan Tale
The Arboreal Wisdom,
Musicality in Zephyrs ruffling Trees of Vale
Hearken unto further
The Winged-Symphonic Bees
(The Bombinating Orchestra)
Soul Untethered = [ Meta-Consciousness ^ Spiritus de Liberty]

Einstein’s General Relativity= [Spatium ^ Matter ↔ Energy ^ Motion]

~

(Time & Space
The height,
The width,
The depth,
And
The breadth)
The Empyrean One
Enshrined in Pantheon
Our Virginal, Vestal Souls
Efflorescent Eternity
In our hearts?
(Ecclesiastes 3:11)

Time is fickle
A
Hydrean Leviathan:

Whilst ye
Voyage her
Seven Seas,
Moor naught
In her
Elapsed chronology;
Her caprice
And ire
Shalt not
Be quelled.

Be roused
From
Somnus,
Unto her
Perpetuity of
Aqueous Abyssal, Dream Deep Sea;
Tenuous,
Diaphanous,
Rare,
Tender,
Instinctive,

∞ Her Moments ∞
∞ Extinguished ∞
∞ At Birth. ∞

∞ Eternally, ∞
∞ Reincarnated; ∞
∞Anew.∞

∞The Cosmic Spectrum∞
∞Is Infinite∞

∞Excelsior, Godspeed∞

∞ Elo’him ∞





VII. Ultima Thule:

We
Empyrean souls,
Doth abide
In
Pearlescent raiment.

The Cosmogenesis is our Dreamscape:
.
We are all a cosmos,
Expanding, contracting;
Ebbing, flowing;
Hitherto and thitherto;
Red-Shift and Blue-Shift.

Until the Mellifluous Morn,
Whence the
Zephyr of Life
Reverberates the Musicality
Of The
Arboreal Sages.

Terraqueous Gaia
Whispers
The Hope of the Ages.
Spirits betwixt
Greater Eden and She’ol.

Count the stars,
Enumerate every
Constellation in The Cosmos
Of your Soulscape scintillating
Upon thine Mind’s Sky.

Whence Luna and Sol
By the Wisdom
Of your starlight.
Are benighted, beseech
The Ancient of Days

For within The Supernal Wavelength
Of the Hallowed Dove.
We glean refuge
Our Aegis,
Providence.

Awaiting the
Golden, incendiary pinions
Of the
Revenant Phoenix to resurrect us.
Allow the Holy Spirit
to be your Polaris,
― to Elysium.

~By Agape’s Armistice:
Ascend,
The Peaks of Heartsease.
Commune with the Cosmos,
Wax
Salvera y Jiustizia
Brethren,
I plead.~”


~This Sacred Lotus seed
Was sown
Into the
Into the Soil of your Souls
, ―By the Astral.

You are a melody,
Sung by
A coloratura,
Burst into a
Tapestry of Fioritura:

Of Hope,
Faith,
And
Love



(May you
Reap
The Virtues of the Lord)

Betwixt

Na’phesh,
(The [Your] Living Soul)

&

Kos’Mos’
(The World)

The Apotheosis of the Astral Flame
Awaits
You
Starry-Eyed
Phantasmagoreans~
Celestial Morphology © is the multi-epistled poem which I sired during the Estival vicissitude. Twas an ineffable cadenza that exhales of the incorporeal essence of mine entity. I had been toiling in sweat, blood, and tears over a written project at the time; consequently, this is the thematic poem begotten.
     It transmutes the zeitgeist of my summer into the Golden Raiment of Polymathy. The oppressed coals of my woe erupted from the igneous core of my heart as these adamantine words. This starry soundscape is the astral crux of my work during 2018.
      I think that there was a vast expanse of my understanding of the world that had been repressed. It had almost been veiled from the heightened sight of my Over-Soul. This was in my sheltered, infantile longing to elude heartache. To keep the flesh- sundering maladies of the world outside my apartment walls: love, passion, iniquity, penitence, forgiveness, piety, cultural fission, intolerance, injustice, indignation, divinity, melody, mysticism, schism, mania, trepidation, faith, wisdom, darkness, and temporally transcendent pain.
          This was my transcribed anarchy against a Fascist Regime. A country exalting body that calls its denizens creationists whilst they slaughter every creation under the sun. The sociological edicts that dictate how art should be produced, the pace, that tell us not to speak of discrimination and mold us to turn a blind eye to the harsh realities of 21st-century postmodern society heavied the air. I just needed to vent and let every bit of internalized asperity or self-directed hatred out in a beautifying paradigm.
      I'm realizing more and more that life is tough and quite frankly, short. I'd rather write for an infinitude on one poem, for the sake of saving myself, rather than compromising my own integrity (and creative latitude). The writing was becoming a drag: less about quality, and more about quantity. Thus, after months of phantasmagorical drought, I bestow a glistening glade of sterling words.
I hope this poem reverberates upon thine soul waves. Please comment as I am open to any feedback; moreover, I beseech it of thee. My deepest gratitude comrades.

Excelsior Forevermore,

Sanders Maurice Foulke III
Ceyhun Mahi Jun 9
I find your gorgeous face quite bright and sweet,
Like stars or angels soft; to eyes loved pleasures,
Because the eye adores the ones who're neat,
Comparing it in poetry to treasures.

Your shapely stature's tall, to me breathtaking,
Like waves excited is my yearning heart,
And to see you with others is heartbreaking,
My object of admiration, each part.

The world has seen so many girls like you,
Dressed in elegance, shaped as flowing fires,
Although it's known, it seems so fresh and new,
The scintillating source of most desires.

But still your temperament is quite ****,
If only pretty eyes of you could see.
"Who knew evil girls have the prettiest face?'
Truth is a familiar word to all and yet is the most Elusive of all !

Truth is the Inner compass , navigating life's orientations.
Filling the heart with Euphoria of self validation's !

Paint the self in Truth and give the world a scintillating surprise .
Truth will always upraise you in your own eyes !

One is never enough and a hundred is never more ,
Believe in the power of truth and resurrect your own score !

Truth needs to be in action , not just in words , reiterate it to be heard .
For all we know is - " TRUTH ALONE TRIUMPHS IN EVERY SITUATION" !
©Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar
Simply the truth#simple rhyme #importance of standing up for the truth...Need of the hour ! Thanks for reading☺
SøułSurvivør Jul 2017
Natalheme was on the balcony gazing up at the moons again. She always did this after talking to The One. And, as always, she was awestruck by their beauty. Perfect spheres of crystal, with a scintillating sheen due to the shield that surrounded her world. Three there were. The largest was ivory, the second aquamarine, and the smallest the color of Tourmaline lilac. This is the human equivalent of the shades. But these colors only the Seraphs could see. For they have a much broader spectrum of color to enjoy.

The child yawned, and stretched her graceful arms as if to grasp the one small moon, now the color of heather, as it was moving behind the largest ecru orb. She then looked out at her home planet. The balcony provided a spectacular view. In itself, the cantilevered balcony was a feat of engineering without par. Gracefully it perched on the side of Natalheme's home like a dove would place itself with spread wings upon an olive branch. It had a texture like mother of pearl, but with a subtle sparkle like marble. The child went on the tip of her toes to look over the edge of this edifice.

Her planet was the loveliest this universe can provide. Her people, the Seraphs, were created by The One just as we were, but their female could not be tempted by Evitamar (their name for Satan). Therefore, their world, and indeed the Seraphs themselves, never lost their original Glory. Enormous trees spread like umbrellas of emerald and turquoise. Some were the shade of peridot. Others had leaves that were molting, and were every shade of fire. A mist swirled up from the foliage beneath the gargantuan trees. Flowers of every color (and as I said, their spectrum was endless) and shape graced the garden beneath the shade of the beautiful trees. The Mist watered everything growing. It never rained on her world. Cathedral like crystals erupted here and there from the russet earth. Natalheme (pronounced nat-al-eh-may) could hear the azure ocean. The waves sang and sang...

Above her an enormous eagle-like raptor soared on the thermals provided by the Mist. It looked down on the child, it's eyes having the same natural frown as our species of bird. But its eyes were ruby blood. It had feathers the color of alabaster and amber, and were crystalline in nature.

All of the sudden it positioned itself to swoop... its body angled down and rushed toward her with blinding speed! Its talons extended like landing gear, and snatched the child up like she weighed as much as a cotton ball!

It hauled her into the air by her light tunic, took her miles above her planet... And proceeded to drop her!

She shrieked...

... with utter delight!



(To be continued)



SøułSurvivør
(C) 7/13/2017
A story I've been writing I thought I'd share... I'm adding more instalments when I have the time.

Thanks for reading!
‘Twas many moons ago in fled days of yore,
In a distant realm of a golden shore,
When there dwelt a maiden of golden hair,
The last fairest by the name of Lenore.

The sweetness of her mellifluous voice,
Like only Angels of high heaven can make;
The beaminess of her impeccable face,
Reflections of a dawn sun-kissed lake.

Once by a golden noontide, so they say,
Perfectly salubrious was the day,
Fairly enriched by heaven's fairest ray
That Lenore chose to potter by the bay.

She marveled at so wide a limpid sea,
That was a vast luminous blue millpond,
Whispering mellifluous lullabies
Like of Angels upon heaven's compound.

“O sea, thou art lovely like a sweet dream,”
Quoth Lenore, “In thy waters I must swim.”
Hence as quick as a plummeting sunbeam,
In waters jumped the little seraphim.

Frosted in sheer elation she galloped
Upon the crest of so gentle a wave,
But every sea creature lifted its head,
Whilst doleful as marigold by a grave,

And in faint whispers didst bid her adieu,
"Farewell Lenore," till she was out of view,
Away where mortals of yore never knew,
Away where none canst ever have a clue.

In a while, the sun had shone her last ray
And solitary stars were beaming bright
Upon heaven's timelessly stonking bay,
But she still alone In the dead of night.

By luck, on yonder was a galleon
Of a sundeck decked with bright neon,
Her glossy sails as if from diamond hewn,
With words golden blazoned upon her stern:

Come thou little maiden, come thou aboard,
But little did innocent Lenore know,
At the back words in clear ruby-red read:
“To the kingdom of eternal sorrow.”

Not so long faded the night, dawn was nigh,
Heaven's molten gold began oozing by,
Whilst silvery clouds waltzed athwart the sky,
That Lenore's eyes slavered with ecstasy.

But then, there came a dog in the manger,
A hateful wave assailed the galleon
And heavens raged with roaring thunder
That echoed louder than the hungriest lion.

Tossing her where the sea kisses the skies,
Hence now but a speck on the horizons,
And there she galloped by and by downwards
Till wrecked upon shadowy blue islands

That bore words by the shores: “Little maiden,
Welcome thou to the kingdom of Nineva,
Where mortals shalt see thee never again,
For here you'll dwell forever and ever.”

This sent poor Lenore reeling far in mind
That with cinder-like eyes stumbled behind
But her galleon she could hardly find
For it had long vanished into the wind.

But hark! Yonder woods sprang a companion,
A lad whose names were Edgar Alan Poe;
Bestrode upon a snowy fair stallion
Who unto her whispered softly and low:

“If the moon be fair, then thy skin fairer,
If the stars be bright, then thine eyes brighter,
If snow be white, then thy lip’s gems whiter,
If the sun be hot, then thy hair hotter,

Then tell me, what bringeth thou to Nineva,
A realm of eternal sorrow and fear,
Where no mortal hath escaped ever,
But ever doomed in dungeons of despair?”

Despite her visage was lugubrious,
Her worries were all now but fugacious,
That yonder fair floral woods susurrous
Galloped whilst trees sang in tunes mellifluous.

For Edgar’s words of kindness had soothed her
Now doth she beam with ethereal luster
Like of night lanterns upon heavens shore
Scintillating in a wondrous cluster.

Alas! strange and covetous myriad eyes
By yon brier coveted the beauty queen
That as passes a fiend in the night skies
Did spy upon her with eyes all unseen

'Tis then when Edgar was away hunting
Whilst the beauty queen was all alone singing
When those dreamy figures came whispering
Amongst each other whilst wildly smiling.

Bestrode upon many a snowy fair horse,
Their strange faces, as pale as death her self.
Their voices, as if thousand snakes didst hiss,
Betwixt them, there lordly sprang an elf

Who unto her said, "how sweet thou dost sing,
Thy melodious voice would so please our king,
Unto thee, rubies and pearls shalt he bring,
Of banished gold shalt be thy nuptial ring."

"Nay", softly replied the little maiden,
To thy king I canst not walk down the isle,
For in violent love I'm with a swain,
Thy king's treasures outweigh not his smile.

"Wretch", why dost thou abhor our proposal?
For soon thou art to regret having done so,
So cried the elf, "opting for a mortal
Than a mighty king who is immortal"?

"Hark! Fair moon, see that morrow by noontide
Thou art by the edge of yon verdant moor,
For then thou shalt come with us yonder side
Neath the sea, and dwell with us evermore."

At this, a wild wind danced by many a leaf
And so vanished the strange troop of the elf
That she busted with a sigh of relief
Though deep within, her soul kindled with grief.

Not long, news sprinkled into the swain's ear
Who gathered a troop of a thousand men
Each bearing a bow, a hummer and spear,
All ready to guard the beauty queen.

When came morrow, they took little Lenore
And laid her beneath a lone sycamore
That stood by the edge of a lonely moor,
And then all matched towards the shingly shore.

No army led by any hostile king
Towards them could ever come any near.
There job was great that they did chant and sing
Songs of triumph of the fled days of yore.

Alas! To match towards the sycamore,
There pale and cold laid innocent Lenore
With not any single bone of poor her
Broken, but her breath taken evermore.

Mute, forlon, and motionless stood the swain
With bitter tears galloping from his eye,
With his soul 'neath a sepulchre of pain
That from yon day on, the realm he did curse.

For in Nineva, a realm dim and deep,
There not a mean ray of light canst now creep,
And there all creatures night and day dost weep
Till sweet Lenore wakes from eternal sleep.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros, Kampala, Uganda. 16th.July.2018.

#tale #adventure #fantasy #Lenore #EdgarAlanPoe #Nineva
"Nineva" is a magical kingdom in "Kikos's Legendarium"...a miscellany of tales of mystery and maccabre like you've never heard of. Tales such as: The Enchanted Gold, The Dwarf Of Nineva, Woods Have Eyes, Jazabel The Witch, The Novelty Tea ***, The Witch's Cauldron, The Lonely Hut, The Nectar Stream, among so many others.
And this tale is as well one of a grand scene in an adventurous movie script im penning.

#Each line in decasyllables
#Lenore is a name of a maiden I borrowed from Edgar Alan Poe's tales of mystery.
Ojaswee Das Feb 7
What you didn't realize
was that you were a conqueror of fate
Having me ravished to the highest magnitude
you still pretended like you had no clue
A counterfeit image of
trust issues
Playfully taunting
but I was also hurting.
For I didn't covet you
to have doubts
Or descry the demur I doubted to dismiss.
But it's true
That somewhere betwixt the precariousness
I had relinquished my all
my heart; my soul
to you
without yet having been acquainted
with more than just the night
Without yet having been acquainted
With only you in plain sight
Your scintillating eyes
holding to the fact
that
I ought to conjecture
The earth is flat
.
.
.
You grin like a Cheshire Cat.
Travis Green May 20
Everything shines serenely
in your kingdom, the train
rumbling down the tracks
towards iridescent attractions,
amazing cityscapes, towering
buildings like enormous mountains
standing in magnificence.  I could
gaze hours and hours at your
canvas and never grow tired,
listen to your soft sounds echo
across my skin, down to the surface
of my domain.

I could stand with you and stare
at the brilliant cherry trees, their
blossoming blooms a pure halo
of poetry brightening in the breeze,
our hands in harmony, our dreams
as one, taking in the scintillating
lyrics in the sky, the seagulls
swimming in the sea nearby,
our bodies like a masterpiece
of melodies, marvelous, dazzling
art demanding praise and all the
glory.
Adele Sep 2018
Outside was the town
asphalt fumes crawling in the workers lungs
kids running through the whirlwind of dust
I can still hear the ringing sound
of the hammer,
hitting the nails
on the skeleton wood walls

'Welcome to the teardrop shape island'
if you go straight, you'll reach Cloud 9
abode for surfers, watch the waves and you'll see the sign
a paint of camaraderie on a thumping board,
they tried to climb

crystal waters scintillating in my eyes
a splash of diamond
glistening on my feet,
embracing the euphoria that
will hopefully repeat

The next block is a bumpy road
where the bamboo cottage lies
beside a rice paddy where the sound
of leaves, sings a soul to sleep
a hammock that sweeps a brooded dream
and sweet cotton pillow that sinks you back to a place

with no mayhem.
“As my soul falls into the luring darkness of dolorous woe,
My voice calls out to her in a very Ignominy way of hope,
There's a hole in heart a void in my mind a deep desire,
Those of who live on the seaboard standing near brine,

Constant edges of decision insensate alone satiated in dreams,
For of us who were etch with angst like a faint line amidst our lives,
In need for something convivial of exploits and adventures,
One cannot choose who to love in doorways of futile ignominy,

Clench to your chimera that guard you through lonesome nights,
The chimera comes and goes through dwarf hours until the dawn,
Inward dreams so engulf one seeking rapport of future draws,
Note and answer in the lateness of the world primal lamenting,

Push away despair nurture the moments that is ones destiny,
Cast off the anger and the memory of a deep entrenched seed,
At sunrise be not afraid it may not remain when the sunsets,
For each heart there is another that caused your heart to bleed,  

Exculpate the once scintillating brazenly resolute bond with others,
Once again nurture hope to hold fast to dreams not futile ignominy”

By Andrew Guzaldo 2/25/2019 ©
By Andrew Guzaldo 2/25/2019 ©  #Poem#152 Hello Poetry
I.
from one direction a voice is heard
the Word pours forth from the mountain
i hear the language of the birds
truthfully we converse often
they recount tales of passion
beauty and satisfaction
our mutual attraction is gaining energy
i feel the pressure building
its all consuming
like a waterfall it threatens to consume me
and dissolve me in its intoxication
her scent is everywhere
a constant reminder of the divine
i am taunted by her essence
her fragrance and her spine
inflict mortal wounds
dare to hold her tight
if you do the energy of love
will overcome her
sweet innocence
bound to the intellect
essential qualities
communication
sensuality
actualize presence
in feeling and form
i freeze
her beauty is numinous
surreptitiously blooming it almost fooled me
she took hold of my insides
it lingers near me
i sleep with her memory
can i shield myself from this surge of music
hunger and inclusion
an institution of feeling

II.
her eyes are furnaces
her breath vapor
never less than the totality
liquid light crashes
fast and than slowly
the rhythm laughs at our feebleness
saturated innocence
bursting out like steam from coal ovens
simple ecstasy is my only hope
form is pain
a prayerful reminder of our impermanence
swiftly **** me and let me dance
sledgehammers finish off the drudgery
some moments are pounding
others are cool like the crystal ocean
a depth and vision is necessary
i am in need of shelter from her fire
a muse that burns all that she inspires
a silent lover of beauty
furthering her art
between the spaces of dreams
our fingers slip into everything
and become tangled like twine
rest here and unwind your heart strings
the scintillating heat
is blinding yet rejuvenating
if you are my love then uncover your soul
give naked silence a chance to grow
surround my faithless jungle
with your vines of hope
i am conscious of the lack of rope
for happiness is binding
like kindness climbing invisible ladders
shatter the silhouette of your perfect idol
sneak a peak at a photograph you have kept hidden
silver visions destined to uncover
the lust of beauty
smiled in my direction
if we wish to dance then circle around the fire
aspire for magic to abolish your name
switch places with the shadow
and feel the earth with your skin
give us a reason for you to be here
or you better start swimming

III.
what is this feeling
of loneliness and shame
as it arises i witness our pain
like flaming eagles
it circles high in the sky
our instability gives rise to flight
you gave me the impression
that you were alright
now i know the difference
between the darkness and the light
as featureless women
become a formless sea
of instant gratification
is this the medicine i seek
our trials and tribulations are tripping me
every which way i reach
i feel you chasing after me

IIII.
never quite on time
we run always behind
i am dancing in flaming spirals
a feather high up in a tree
i am a shepherd and i am a chief
i am the river, the mountain and the sea
life gets hectic and full of noise
in the confusion we reach out for toys
to anchor us to reality
yet it never works
these childish games remain shallow
and keep us narrowly awake
barely alive
what a dismal dive
into lakes of cold liquid
refreshed by the water and the ice
our humanity survives

Vivek Raj Aug 2018
Annie,
It's always been you!

If only you realized how much you mean to me,
Not a moment goes by when I don't stop to think about you,
Your peculiarity alone can do that,
And, that's always been you!

What makes you so special?
In layman terms,
You are my greatest strength
And, my greatest weakness.

The serenity in your halcyon heart,
The charisma of your captivating eyes,
The elegance in your illustrious smile,
The tenderness of your seductive lips,
The spark in your gentle touch,
The gracefulness of your alluring neck,
The radiance in your dazzling lustrous hair,
The lure of your hypnotizing heaving *****,
The haven in your scintillating navel,
The holiness of your ravishing waist,
The sanctity of your fascinating hips,
The wickedness in your mesmerising curves,
For my hopes lie on,
The gateway to your heart,
That is now open,
Through the divine pathway in your sacred forest,
Filled with untold and concealed secrets,
And, mysteries unknown to man,
For I hope to touch, nurture and caress,
Every deep wall in you,
For you are the prayer to my appetite,
And, the incarnation of my desires,
It is now that I get the privilege of being a being,
To realize,
You complete me!

Annie,
You are desire,
You are passion,
The inspiration for wanting more in life,
The personification of loving life itself.

The paragon of my eroticism,
And, not an end will there be,
For my ***** crave,
To be destroyed,
By the ****** dynamite you are.

Annie,
An eternal pleasure in sensual misery you are,
And, a heaven in my hell,
The zenith of all climaxes,
And, the paradigm for my resurrection.

The yearning for the man in me,
Annie, you are!
C Jun 11
And i'd wait for you for eternity. If i cant have you in this lifetime, i'll wait for you in the next. And the next and the next and the next, foolishly. Trust me, I'll know it's you. The familiar feeling of you. The warmth between your arms. The scintillating look in your eyes. Your cold touch. Every small detail of you is stuck in my soul. I may be foolish but I cannot waste this soul of mine if it cannot be yours.
M
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