"sylph" poems
Let me be your Isis
I'll scavenge the land for the pieces of you they've stolen
and fit each and every piece back together with delicate fingers
Your kintsugi astounds me, each and every break so beautiful
It is not my reflection I admire as my eyes dwell along and ride
the golden rivers you try and keep from me
Let me be your Isis
let me see the melancholy spill from your eyes
the snap of your spirit when my words are like sin
I am not perfect, and I will drown in my folly like gin
down my father's throat
my father does not know how to swim.
But your pain is like a gasp of breath sometimes
when it reminds me that you are of the firmest birch tree
your bark does not bend to just any wind
and the symphony of susurrus that accompanies the midnight
breeze, escaping the ivory lamina of your leaves, each note
leaping off of every blade like a dancer,
are NOT composed by just any sultry sylph
Let me be your Isis
Be my Osiris, a masterpiece
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 9:50 AM UTC
Touch me my soul make the words roll over my skin
Only if you know how to write to me my angel my kin
I am not waiting for a mask not either a disguise
Open your veins to me
Let me read in the red waters on my lips
Let me read the words, free me of the words
in any possible way
may the rain down my eyelids
may they kiss my legs
Make me laugh like a springtime morning
A soft laughter that tears up the skies
Those who gives shivers and marvels
send a shiver to my spine make my head spin
feed on my sapiophile soul
more never stop or only to make me miss you
only to make me deliciously pine for them ever more
I am tired by the dalliances I want the four season muse
You are so right I am the demure sylph
Inured by the tar black clouds and the tempests
so delicate with those thin dragonfly lyrics
It's all made of your sighs and your caresses
One day perhaps you'll have your own epiphany
You will call me Marie and all of my other names
You'll use your precious eloquence to tell me
How we were meant to be
Resonate like a familiar sound snowing in my mind
Purifying the emotional landscape
NOW is the time even if there's no hurry
Haven't we lost enough time to be without one another
Every of my names no matter my dress
They will all adore you as bitter as sweet
I'll be on your ego like a caress
I will read you like a sassy poem
Like an impatient flame
You'll be the one who dares to be frail
You'll dive in my treasure and get out of the bitter sea
Together like a team united for the beauty of the worse(...)
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 6:22 AM UTC
Anna entered the room like a butterfly, gossamer to all.
Her face told a different story. One of sadness and hurt.
She wore only the finest silks and seamed cuban stockings.
All eyes latched upon her and followed every step. But no real man ever approached her.
No saviour could get near.
She wore none of her finery, the choice all his.
A trophy bride,
sold like raw meat in her childhood.
It was normal in her village, her adolescence stolen from her.
Anna's delicate neck held an overbearing sapphire necklace. It was overkill in every way.
All for show, all chosen by him, all for him.
He entered with his cronies as though owning the club.
The way he thought he owned her.
Thought indeed, for there is always a price in ownership.
Hours past champagne and fake laughter abounded.
Then she stood up.
Immediately challenged!
She wished to go and powder her nose.
Naturally escorted, god forbid she made outside contact.
But she was not watched within. Minutes passed then... The scream.
She had left, Anna had escaped him.
The anger on his face !
He had no control, lost face in front of them all.
For Anna, oh beautiful Anna lay sylph like wrapped like a cloud in her white dress, its silk floating in a pool of her life blood.
She had left, she was free.
Now her face was different, white, ashen but at peace.
Free..
Anna had left.
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 2:20 PM UTC
Taffeta dress.
Pink bows and ribbons,
Plaited elegantly through her shiny hair.
Shoes made of crystal glass.
Azure eyes that allure.
Princes and spinsters.
All vying for love.
In ball gowns.
Feel the frowns.
The pauper descends.
Out of place, amid friends.
Pretences of sisters who whisper and moan.
Two sisters and mother that clamour the throne.
They're trying for love.
Met on the staircase.
We really don't really care case.
Sisters on ladders of heels,as they stagger .
Their mouths filthy as bladders and bowels.
Nasty creatures.
Vile in lust.
Lustful greed.
Maternal demon seed.
Stepmother, toxically crumbles to dust.
Crone godmother.
A quick sip of milk.
Cinderella my lovely became but a sylph.
Dispelled stepmother and daughter's that cussed.
Transport to the princes ball.
In a pumpkin, should maybe have been made into a sickly sweet pie.
Lizards as footmen, stood fast on the back on the coach pulled by white mice.
The creatures were shocked.
By the changes, all the rearrangements.
Built up with Cinderella before, a creature comfort kind of rapport.
Be back by midnight said the fairy godmother, she knew he'd really grow to love her.
Midnight came midnight went.
A glorious evening only lent.
She tripped on the stair,
Nobody cared, except the prince and cute cinders.
She lost her shoe, in a hurry to flee.
Prince himself picked it up, unable to believe in lady luck was meant to be.
He searched his dominions far and wide, just to find his princess bride.
All the best things found in fairy tales.
What do I find?
Just slugs and snails.
Yep, you guessed it I'm a bit of a cynic.
(c)Livvi MMCV
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
come, come with me
on this backward path
of shattered mirrors
and sidewalk cracks
walk, walk with me
and listen to the sounds
of the wondering birds
and things the wind found
dance, dance with me
at a bashment of bashful bows
wild twists, sylph-like twirls,
and elegant falls
lay, lay with me
in a passage of dreamt things.
i will place my heart
in your palm and try, try to breathe
breathe, breathe with me
can you not let me go?
melt away the malarkey with silence and
cure the angry thoughts with “i don’t know”
speak, speak with me
confabulate, but don’t ask what i feel
for i’d be reticent, or worse,
pre-occupied from thoughts by what’s real
meet, meet with me
can you find me halfway
in a field of resplendence
at the end of the day?
run, run with me
get you wild (like untamed flowers)
make you leave
(he’s a forest fire)
fall, fall with me
Wonderland doesn’t hurt if there’s two
when the Queen of Hearts sees ours
she won’t even conceptualize what to do
sink, sink with me
when i’m drifting, drowning, and there’s nothing left
but promise me you’d swim to shore
if it was between loss and loss of breath
leave, leave with me
and shall the world pull you away
in my heart, I’ll keep the pieces
of the promise that you would stay
scream, scream with me
tell the air and the dirt and the weeds
what is dry, what is broken, what is hurt
what you need
hold on, hold on with me
to memories and tales of the trees
of climbing limbs
and freedom in little things
stay, stay with me
in this bleeding, beating, of hearts
don’t get too close, but
don’t go too far
trust, trust with me
though it's complicated
and whims take the garden signs
and try to repaint them
pray, pray with me
see, the petals scattered to the breeze,
are not a concise coincidence
but the story of an averred belief
grow, grow with me
i hope that love will show us how
it starts as a seed, then a bud
then a vow
dream, dream with me
of crepuscular magic and roses in June
droplets are constellations
and irises the moon
feel, feel with me
in your embrace i seek shelter
hands like daisies in my hair
feet intertwined, we're ivy, but better
wonder, here with me
we don’t know what we’ll find
but if you keep me safe, dear one,
i’ll keep you wild.
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 10:20 PM UTC
oh, beautiful one,
with the bedroom eyes
headstrong queen
of the crimson skies
seduced by kisses,
passion--lies
when, for you, will the
feather--Ma'at--rise...?
a gray sylph, a
secret slave sighs
in the wake of the
master who flies
to soothe, to love,
to elicit highs
with monochrome wings
make and unmake ties
to what end?
when deception dies
all that's left
are our broken cries...
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 12:19 AM UTC
---
if i could be a compound
in God's wonderful world
i believe i would be water
raindrops sweet and mild
or a storm working with crops
for a harvesting unfurled
a peach cotton ball cloud
hung in a sunrise sky
a vapor like a sylph
who changes with each sigh
of breezes that are blowing
changing faces there up high
water then will change
when the cold wind blows
it freezes into crystals
a perfect world of snow
wonderous icy canyons
purest white in floes
glaciers break high mountains
to rubble which moves
wherever the ice takes it
the canyon is removed
it is a force to reckon with
this much has been prooved
of all the things in nature
it's there wherever you go
it moves the great and small
it's fast or very slow
there's no wonder of the world
like our magical H2O!
soulsurvivor
(C) 7/6/2015
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 6:17 PM UTC
It's stories above where the butterflies rustled,
Whirring between the lights in aeolian bustle.
I'm smiling spritely at a neon halo,
While my organs writhe in jacqueminot El Niño.
Wading the nightscape with a glitched simper,
I could not change nor attempt to tinker,
Just breaching the moments passing to linger.
Fingers, then palms, then lips, then black,
Then for a few seconds the world collapsed.
A breath, a sip, some wit, I'm back.
Shed the murky vision of captive cataracts.
And now,
The sylph saunters in epitomized elegance,
And I've buckled on the inside to the resonant reverence.
I follow the fragrance in her wake as paralyzed sedatives,
And anything I might say could only lack eloquence.
Then magnanimous mantras attract exact,
It seems way down the rabbit hole I've finally met my match.
There's a mesh of flesh, a smooth caress,
Then I wake and realize these were not visions yonder death.
Particles of my brain erupt,
I can't explain away the unfading elation of touch.
Every pose palatial down to the pixels,
I'd gaze deep in the sheen of her mind gleaming as crystals.
Her eyes open like daybreak in flashes,
Sunstreaks glint over the horizon of her lashes.
There's morning songbirds behind the taste of coffee,
I think she's figured I'm just a well decorated softy.
Unveiling my most human of contentions stripped to the eclipse of logic,
My former self laughs in tones pitched sardonic.
Euphorically strumming at gossamer heartstrings,
Etched in the fabric as sakura carvings.
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 8:48 PM UTC
In a throbbing coccon seized by ablazen web
thou viscid meanders woven by an unabating tempest
then hoarded in a rapture... by the sylph of the sands.
Rising rider, captive of an upwind sail
meadowy sky lover, worshipper of the ephemeral
fettered Why mooring the eluding eons to a transfixed now
as if the twined dreams of a wayfarer,
nomad of the seas, the sands and the skies
trapped in an ethereal time warp.
Jun 1, 2010
Jun 1, 2010 at 9:10 AM UTC
What gentle images in the fading frescos of ancient Italy
Sylph-like figures gliding
Along emerald green and viridian pathways
Showing delicate movements of sophisticated people
Brought down to earth by strong fighting men.
Disciplined soldiers with life long missions
Finding resolve in their heritage and republican history
Gaining new ground and no prisoners taken
Their senators and loved ones walk the streets and market places
Regardless of sweat and toil of their constant striving
The upper classes remain in peace with their souls.
Vellum, wax or stone, the messages remain
Suspended within their time
Yet the beauty of their images
Depicting a tranquil and calm epoch
We can never know the daily lives for sure
But beauty remains and we will accept this simple declaration
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 5:45 PM UTC
Before getting close
To clouds, and birds in flight;
Looking down on roofs, and plains afar from sight;
Coping up with different altitudes
And blending roots to other cultures,
I'd prefer to break the clock
And be with you.
I'd grasp the chance
To get nigh and stare at that visage
Etched in memory like a haunting mirage
Free our echoing or contrasting notions
Spill out the dumbest jokes
'Coz it's cool to see your subtle emotions.
We could wander on busy streets,
Or gaze on blinking stars and make a wish!
But I'm not sure if I'd be brave
To tell the words I rehearsed,
Or flash boxed feelings.
If cowardly I didn't...
Please...
Oh, Please...
Hear the screaming silence
And shattering tears.
Years will fly by
But my hopes won't die.
I'll send letters to that Star
Hoping our paths to reunite.
Let kismet light our way,
For I believe,
Our Guide won't lead us astray.
Mar 6, 2012
Mar 6, 2012 at 10:32 PM UTC
Practically disbelieve prophetic sustenance
Pre exist convince self sacrifice austerity
Lead solitary lonely strife unravel dysfunction
Slowly impede on sanities senses spirit bend
Empath way to escape betray forgive pain
Obey Frey free from Cain disintegrate
Holy guardianship vindicate Lord Lucifer
Emancipate misused divinity behoove
Sacred energy bitterly keep on enlightened
Sorcery face El-light what immaculate forgery
Divine Sphere of influence follow through
Underworld Godspeed enchant exuded kneads
Forbidden prayers left lay Ilahi arrest turn off Sylph
Jul 9, 2016
Jul 9, 2016 at 2:52 AM UTC
Chronology Dynamo(Cogwheel Goddess)
Excogitation; twiddling my thumbs…
My eyes are glued to the soil beneath me; I shall sink into the mud.
The winds embrace my untimely surge of vain equations.
My metacarpals have contorted; supplication exhausts my soul.
“You my Goddess, who I look to for Time, yes Time and solace“.
“Thou shall not reveal to me vicissitudes of vernal decay”
“When shall the Great Harvest arrive?”
“I ask myself this oh Mother of Divine Infinity; Scythe of Era in the hands of thou.”
-When-
-When shall my flowering forth arrive from aegis wings?-
I sweat; I bleed; I murmur; I fade; I glow; “now what am I?”
Translucent in skin; hollow to the core; dying to warp through dimensions; lithe like a sylph.
Her diadem is one of metallic gears and bejeweled bolts; a Manufactured Diety of the Glorious Space and Time.
Her blade of mascara beautifies those who gaze upon her luminous needle lashes;
Her apparel that of disassembled clocks.
The sand of the hourglass composes her tears and blood; she bleeds out every second of wasted chronology.
Her corona is iridescent and she is one with The Universe.
“Ye shall not waste Time, yes, Time, for it is the essence to all things that are and all things that are not!”
She speaks to me as the nebulae around her glimmer, adorned with supernovae creating a phantasmagorical and celestial overload.
My eyes are clocked with sensory overload; so many colors and luminous neon lights.
“Before the collapse of Mother Earth; the Liminal Sphere, you must feed the Galaxies with the brilliance of your heart.”
-When the rivers of time run dry-
-Act-
-Do Not Wait…-
By Sanders M. Foulke III
Mar 30, 2012
Mar 30, 2012 at 3:50 AM UTC
On Death's midnight hour I had not dream
The days hath gone away -- I couldn't deem
That the elder of these angels left the throne
And flown so sorrowfully by thee alone --
But thy lonesome soul shall limn to see
Not one hovering spirit free --
And where -- shall the asperity scythe cast
Over visions of the shadowed Past --
Of torrent of tormenting trauma
Filled with Manichaean mount and karma
Restlessly rolling down necropolis
Past foot-hills of the dread that drop polis --
Or of the sound of a susurrus winged-sylph whom soar
Yet thunder her voice in a stricken Lion's roar
And uphold herself on heavens vault
And dare to curse that its all my fault --
So what now -- what now when the worst
Is the Devil's tempest durst
To ever define me to what I am today
To ever price my soul to what I have to pay
When the final price was paid when the Lord bled fast away.
May 13, 2012
May 13, 2012 at 2:17 PM UTC
Oh! did those eyes, instead of fire,
With bright, but mild affection shine:
Though they might kindle less desire,
Love, more than mortal, would be thine.
For thou art form’d so heavenly fair,
Howe’er those orbs may wildly beam,
We must admire, but still despair;
That fatal glance forbids esteem.
When Nature stamp’d thy beauteous birth,
So much perfection in thee shone,
She fear’d that, too divine for earth,
The skies might claim thee for their own.
Therefore, to guard her dearest work,
Lest angels might dispute the prize,
She bade a secret lightning lurk,
Within those once celestial eyes.
These might the boldest Sylph appall,
When gleaming with meridian blaze;
Thy beauty must enrapture all;
But who can dare thine ardent gaze?
’Tis said that Berenice’s hair,
In stars adorns the vault of heaven;
But they would ne’er permit thee there,
Thou wouldst so far outshine the seven.
For did those eyes as planets roll,
Thy sister-lights would scarce appear:
E’en suns, which systems now controul,
Would twinkle dimly through their sphere.
1.1k
when the sun is sulking
she swells like the moon,
a sylph bright
and naked
crescent ribs blossoming in the doorway
a bruise like a kiss
on the hollow of her
hip
footprints spot the lawn, there is
earth on her feet when she wriggles
across the quilt to where I lay
she traces the line
of my jawbone to the place
my ear nestles into my hair and she strokes
the crook of my ear lobe
there is brine between her
collar bones and I drink it in-
the salty-tang
when we lay afterward, repose,
we are splendorous in our sweaty, cavernous bodies.
she rises to rinse off. her legs, like a just born fawn’s,
tremble with a new found glory and her hips are
tender, her thighs bruised raw.
my residue shines on the expanse
between her ribs and hips
and I feel strangely attached to her
in that moment, but then she returns to bed
and it has passed.
I mourn for it,
that nameless moment.
Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 12:19 PM UTC
A sylph appears beneath the night -
beguiling smile and touch invite...
As honey flows and nectar drips,
Sweet laughter ripples 'cross her lips...
Her crystal eyes are flashing blue -
They beckon with a ***** hue...
Her silken strands of flaxen hair
Are waving wildly in the air...
The music plays, her swirling dance
Entraps me in a mystic trance...
She disappears as nighttime wanes -
I'm left bewitched, my soul in chains...
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 12:41 PM UTC
"Chalk forest branches, Hermes of sylvan gloom,
Dark mists that flirt with the narrow streams,
Creatures that cherish the rayless nights,
Faery spirits and carnage mongers
All spread, at her feet, their obediences.
To her willow throne borne on braided flames
Lay heathen peregrines with claws and manes"
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 11:47 AM UTC
We're all little Lucifers
Disgraced and fallen
Yet somehow still bearing light
And the four-fold word
Of secrecy, blasphemy
Might quite be love
Or maybe Eden
The illusion that somehow
Eases our tragedy
And still there are those
Hell-bent on progress
As if they were aliens
(Perhaps they are)
The tower is toppling
With windows of fire
See them jump and scream
Till all that's left is rubble
And I left, eye wide open
Came back, astonished
They had rebuilt it
Stacking slander like pancakes
Atop the salamander
It somehow stays in place
And lightning doesn't strike twice
(Perhaps it does)
Well, start anew is pretty hard
When they're taxing herbs
With greeting cards
And while the sylph circles
And the nymph swims below
I can't tell whose side they're on
Where did all the warm blood go
Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 5:58 PM UTC
Ashes on the water.
The phoenix rising from the debts.
Fire in the water.
The phoenix turning into a sylph.
Air rising over the water.
The freedom after the water stills,
death becomes her once more.
Till all begins again.
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 10:40 PM UTC
Is this another renaissance, or am I just pretending?
Sometimes it takes calamity to force me to expand.
I don't know if I'm ready for a looming final ending,
But this time it feels like it's been such a very long time planned.
If I lose this, if I step away, what will I lean on when the nights are cold?
But could I really stand to love a ghost until I'm old?
Dearest sylph, darling demon,
How much longer can I lay upon an alter,
A willing sacrifice waiting for bitter love to falter?
But you don't, above me waiting for the day when my heartbeat has ceased.
I can't keep feeding you forever. Oh alas for my fool love, the beast.
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 7:16 PM UTC
When I was small we had
faerie chimes
that filtered sadness through my window.
If my fingers,
then small and unskilled,
could catch the specks of dust
that drifted around my
blossoms,
then maybe I could make that sound.
When I walked down hallways,
my sisters would giggle.
In my home among homes,
sitting beneath nimbus and cumulus,
I could hear them chortle at
my mismatched body,
a sylph without a
breeze.
I am grown,
and scents follow me,
ravens peck at my window.
But I know the outside
cannot see the wings that calm
my skirting breath,
they cannot hear the chiming
of my sad, sad soul.
Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 10:09 PM UTC
I wish to kiss the mountain with my feet
And burrow tight within its frozen maw
To craft a trail amidst an angry sleet
To puncture frozen shell with metal claw
I wish to hold the ocean in my reach
And drift amongst a swirl of yellow tangs
To float and flip and light a sunken beach
To dart away from rows of gnashing fangs
O how I wish to find my world of light
And sleep within the cradle that I've missed
To shed this sack of flesh and free my blight
To feel her soothing hold and once be kissed
Encased in flame, my body will rescind
Ascending to my mother in the wind
Dec 21, 2012
Dec 21, 2012 at 10:47 PM UTC
The morning after is strangely calm.
"Morning is blissful because it has
no memories."
says the sylph, rifling through her satchel.
"It only thinks about the
future, what it wants to do,
where it wants to go.
"Then the evening comes,
who remembers
the weight of
the world.
Sometimes it hides behind clouds and
cries."
"And of the night?"
"The night, knowing the sorrows of her siblings,
casts a veil over
everyone else.
She gathers all the suffering she can and swallows it
whole."
"Does it hurt?"
"Sometimes."
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 1:52 AM UTC