"sparklings" poems
In the twilight of immeasurable hope
I run, I pace, I stagger.
A moon of sorts tucks its hefty beams
Behind the gauzy, twisted zephyr,
As if teasing that its crisp, round, clarity
is merely an echo of a distant, convoluted story:
a myth.
One moment I am carrying out my quotidian realities
Unfiltered, unbridled, lucid,
Running my fingers through laughing waves
of golden, auburn richness,
Letting my wavering, billowing hair
slowly melt into the quavering, trembling wind…
When suddenly-
I am caught in the labyrinth of veils.
I, with my hair and my warmth,
I am auriferous.
And these sheets, oh these hangings!
They float like century-worn cobwebs
And they ensnare me so.
This is where the tangled messages
And mangled mixed signals
All wriggle themselves into form
And make their zombie graveyard.
And yet there are sparks,
Little voices trapped in burning baubles
Shining like the ever-loving soul of the universe,
Which whisper the stories of the moon-thing
Beyond the borders of this haze-land.
Sometimes I attempt to fashion
these ethereal sparklings into my hair.
They suggest insanity, so close to my ears,
And I can’t fill my soul with enough…
I cling to the faith that they will lead me out
Into the amaranthine beyond.
I come back here often,
Always hoping that today will be the day
That the beams from above
Will reach to seek me.
For that, I will love the mists,
And carnally sip away
At the nebulous, crepuscular,
Pools of Fantasy.
But in retrospect,
I should never have told you
That your name means “Purple” to me.
Sep 30, 2012
Sep 30, 2012 at 1:35 AM UTC
What plummet, seas, to sound you—
All the long reaches spun out silver-white,
Turn you and cast drowned riches?
Or how again, O velvet night,
When the sky, stooping with its glittering load,
About the elf-locks of the curious grass
Scatters its sparklings, will you part almost
Upon the quintessential host?
Or how the figment spirit sleeping
Can it render body, ghost,
In its dream unseat the heavy monarch,
Conjure to the bleak wild coast
Its sunk, its deep delight,
Its night and mist divide, recall how flitting
Above the pallid thing,
Joy has an azure wing?
1.9k
Are we but dream junkies
And all the stars that trail,
In the gloams of milky ways,
But empty islands more for us,
Golden archipelagoes, baubles
Ringing, rounding out heavens'
Wreathing, oceans, nil vastness
To fixate upon from whence we
Once were, by souls' fashioning,
Airy and unrealistic as dear fools'
Child-minded convictions, fables,
Foetal, in smoky amniotic aethers,
Wisps of matter to see unlocked,
Unchained from sparks of nothing,
Wide eyed as supernovae in voids,
As light injects into us such purpose,
Imaginations so neatly dreamed upon,
Once and for all, stories bound in sleepy
Times, or tis more our sole, sun, but one
Dim light in all these unsettled sparklings,
A tapestry which etches our righting eyes,
Into sandy itchings, spiral notches, grains
Ticking us eternal to vested lime beds waiting,
Are we sunk in drunkeness by the overheaded
Skies, fumbling about, numbed, slumbered
In soul rummages?
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 7:57 PM UTC
~
Drifting on a meandering stream
where clover dance and ripples direct my thoughts
to the promises of a new day
I dream I am floating in your arms
as currents gently tug
playing solitaire in wishing hands
among glistening diamonds on the surface
I search for each desire’s realm
while my eyes wander to a place
long of sunrise sparklings
on soft apricot murmurs
Finding your fragrance on a cool wind’s whisper
my heart is drenched,
cleansed in an endless channel
of what your beauty brings to me
I rest in a shady spot among watercolor shadows
writing poetry,
penning my affections in ink traced lines,
renderings of how wonderful my life is
Since you have washed over me
leaving me breathless,
submerged far beneath dew drop shimmers,
saturated by your love
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 7:13 AM UTC
The light of the stars in the sky that I looked up to
Old memories and wishes are sent, crossing through time unfading
The cries of someone are reflected in your eyes with a sparkle, the feelings in the wind
The wishes in the moon, they all live within powerful limitations, today
Our feelings too, will one day continue to shine
With someone's heart, like those stars
One, two bell chimes resound vast and deep, to within the heart
Drops of stars like a story; fine tracks are amassed within them
The era moves along with time, and the flowing stars quietly move too
If you close your eyes, and listen closely, good bye
A bunch of black and white photographs of the sky, a blowing muffler, white breath
I want to get closer, even if it's just a little; running double time until we're on higher ground
If we take out a massive telescope
The lens will disturb the star dust
Time takes away time, and romance passes through the eras
Releasing the light, now we'll firmly pass through time without giving up
Until it reaches someone, the light of glory will go on and make a story
Beyond all of this, along with us
A baby's first cry is raised, a small light, a bit light
Crossing through space and time, they meet
All of the individual sparklings become one, and a story is created
Like the constellations that are connected point to point, if only
I could paint a beautiful picture for someone
Look up, hey, they're winter's diamonds
The creeping milky way, soon I'll be able to take back my courage
Releasing the light, now we'll firmly pass through
Time without giving up, until it reaches someone
The light of glory will go on and make a story
Beyond all of this, along with us
The sky is infinitely vast, yes
Beyond the sea, first breaths are taken, and lives are cut off
The stars shine down like goddesses
The moments of the four seasons repeat, continuing on for long times
That's good, we'll carve in our memories just a little bit
Passing through endless time, and starting to shine
The story continues on inside of my heart
One day, the you from that day will board the night train
Continue to shine, like those stars.
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC
Are we but dream junkies
And all the stars that trail,
In the gloams of milky ways,
But empty islands more for us,
Golden archipelagoes, baubles
Ringing, rounding out heavens'
Wreathing, oceans, nil vastness
To fixate upon from whence we
Once were, by souls' fashioning,
Airy and unrealistic as dear fools'
Child-minded convictions, fables,
Fetal, in smoky amniotic aethers,
Wisps of matter to see unlocked,
Unchained from sparks of nothing,
Wide eyed as supernovae in voids,
As light injects into us such purpose,
Imaginations so neatly dreamed upon,
Once and for all, stories bound in sleepy
Times, or tis more our sole, sun, but one
Dim light in all these unsettled sparklings,
A tapestry which etches our righting eyes,
Into sandy itchings, spiral notches, grains
Ticking us eternal to vested lime beds waiting,
Are we sunk in drunkeness by the overheaded
Skies, fumbling about, numbed,
In soul rummages?
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 5:06 PM UTC
*( Haiku )
1
Frantic
Not much left of day
On piney branches birds dart
Sun shots behind them
2
Sparklings
Autumn blue jays come
Light unvarnished from nowhere
Leaves lit up on ground
3
Love Grows
Whole world spins seasons
Time budding graces in trees
For love roots and leaves
4
Fruition
Life unshackled now
Mountain rains in the distance
Old age so freeing
5
Breathing
Most verdant meadows
Wild in flowers of her hair
First spring of Eden
6
Vox Populi
Zombie ego shouts
Among bloodless dead columns
That I once had lived*
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 8:49 PM UTC
Are we but dream junkies
And all the stars that trail,
In the gloams of milky ways,
But empty islands more for us,
Golden archipelagoes, baubles
Ringing, rounding out heavens'
Wreathing, oceans, nil vastness
To fixate upon from whence we
Once were, by souls' fashioning,
Airy and unrealistic as dear fools'
Child-minded convictions, fables,
Fetal, in smoky amniotic aethers,
Wisps of matter to see unlocked,
Unchained from sparks of nothing,
Wide eyed as supernovae in voids,
As light injects into us such purpose,
Imaginations so neatly dreamed upon,
Once and for all, stories bound in sleepy
Times, or tis more our sole, sun, but one
Dim light in all these unsettled sparklings,
A tapestry which etches our righting eyes,
Into sandy itchings, spiral notches, grains
Ticking us eternal to vested lime beds waiting,
Are we sunk in drunkeness by the overheaded
Skies, fumbling about, numbed,
In soul rummages?
Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 2:02 AM UTC
.
*Autumn blue jays come
Light unvarnished from nowhere
Leaves lit up on ground*
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 9:47 PM UTC
.
Are we but dream junkies
And all the stars that trail,
In the gloams of milky ways,
But empty islands more for us,
Golden archipelagoes, baubles
Ringing, rounding out heavens'
Wreathing, oceans, nil vastness
To fixate upon from whence we
Once were, by souls' fashioning,
Airy and unrealistic as dear fools'
Child-minded convictions, fables,
Foetal, in smoky amniotic aethers,
Wisps of matter to see unlocked,
Unchained from sparks of nothing,
Wide eyed as supernovae in voids,
As light injects into us such purpose,
Imaginations so neatly dreamed upon,
Once and for all, stories bound in sleepy
Times, or tis more our sole, sun, but one
Dim light in all these unsettled sparklings,
A tapestry which etches our righting eyes,
Into sandy itchings, spiral notches, grains
Ticking us eternal to vested lime beds waiting,
Are we sunk in drunkeness by the overheaded
Skies, fumbling about, numbed, slumbered
In soul rummages?
.
Mar 1, 2019
Mar 1, 2019 at 8:17 PM UTC
She still speaks to me in ways familiar but with her glance sends over the light weapon of our memory in love. There are many sparklings in my head which have for themselves one name and her special touch alone. The movement in our kissing slides a satin wave from our lips. Oh sacred style of missing her lowers my palm collecting icicle-heart drips.
Feather-weight kisses he always misses with equally soft wishes for them it’s not fictitious.
As I lay back against her chest
Her arms around me hug the rest
Like bedside angels do their best
To calm the winds now laid to rest.
I breathe her in soft landscapes of airy music. To embrace her is to step into a castle made of blue fireworks. The scent of her neck sends me falling into the sea of lovely intoxicants. Her face is my favorite place to gaze at. She is the spectacle of any simple space.
The moments are lovely here as I approach her awaiting smile, glistening from just having said everything in blissful glances.
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 11:53 AM UTC
She still speaks to me in ways familiar but with her glance sends over the light weapon of our memory in love. There are many sparklings in my head which have for themselves one name and her special touch alone. The movement in our kissing slides a satin wave from our lips. Oh sacred style of missing her lowers my palm collecting icicle-heart drips.
Feather-weight kisses he always misses with equally soft wishes for them it’s not fictitious.
As I lay back against her chest
Her arms around me hug the rest
Like bedside angels do their best
To calm the winds now laid to rest.
I breathe her in soft landscapes of airy music. To embrace her is to step into a castle made of blue fireworks. The scent of her neck sends me falling into the sea of lovely intoxicants. Her face is my favorite place to gaze at. She is the spectacle of any simple space.
The moments are lovely here as I approach her awaiting smile, glistening from just having said everything in blissful glances.
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 11:56 AM UTC
She still speaks to me in ways familiar but with her glance sends over the light weapon of our memory in love. There are many sparklings in my head which have for themselves one name and her special touch alone. The movement in our kissing slides a satin wave from our lips. Oh sacred style of missing her lowers my palm collecting icicle-heart drips.
Feather-weight kisses he always misses with equally soft wishes for them it’s not fictitious.
As I lay back against her chest
Her arms around me hug the rest
Like bedside angels do their best
To calm the winds now laid to rest.
I breathe her in soft landscapes of airy music. To embrace her is to step into a castle made of blue fireworks. The scent of her neck sends me falling into the sea of lovely intoxicants. Her face is my favorite place to gaze at. She is the spectacle of any simple space.
The moments are lovely here as I approach her awaiting smile, glistening from just having said everything in blissful glances.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 12:14 PM UTC