"tahitian" poems
It's summertime. The saxophone jazz
sounds are pirouettetting the waves
to find their own balance. It's a mauve
inner dance in almost everything around.
More exactly, the melodious movable
sounds become soundable movement
needing a reverberation time to dissipate
the energy. The movement releases its own
purity to become simple fecundity. The pulsed
sound waves are also old memories lost in the
natural green. The saxophone looks much
more like a Tahitian prince dancing his love
on the sand. The singing mauve sea waves
have a sadness taste at sunset. The last one
is a watery mermaid and he embraces her
while searching the high. The sounds need
touch and life. They need to dematerialize
and to disappear into the universe. The
saxophone remains a solitaire keeping
safe his evanescent hermetic equilibrium.
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 8:16 PM UTC
Said darling daughter unto me:
"oh Dad, how funny it would be
If you had gone to Mexico
A score or so of years ago.
Had not some whimsey changed your plan
I might have been a Mexican.
With lissome form and raven hair,
Instead of being fat and fair.
"Or if you'd sailed the Southern Seas
And mated with a Japanese
I might have been a squatty girl
With never golden locks to curl,
Who flirted with a painted fan,
And tinkled on a samisan,
And maybe slept upon a mat -
I'm very glad I don't do that.
"When I consider the romance
Of all your youth of change and chance
I might, I fancy, just as well
Have bloomed a bold Tahitian belle,
Or have been born . . . but there - ah no!
I draw the line - and Esquimeaux.
It scares me stiff to think of what
I might have been - thank God! I'm not."
Said I: "my dear, don't be absurd,
Since everything that has occurred,
Through seeming fickle in your eyes,
Could not a jot be otherwise.
For in this casual cosmic biz
The world can be but what it is;
And nobody can dare deny
Part of this world is you and I.
Or call it fate or destiny
No other issue could there be.
Though half the world I've wandered through
Cause and effect have linked us two.
Aye, all the aeons of the past
Conspired to bring us here at last,
And all I ever chanced to do
Inevitably led to you.
To you, to make you what you are,
A maiden in a Morris car,
IN Harris tweeds, an airedale too,
But Anglo-Saxon through and through.
And all the good and ill I've done
In every land beneath the sun
Magnificently led to this -
A country cottage and - your kiss."
1.8k
You're having a bad day
not everything is good?
Yes, that's very true...
come in and sit down.
You haven't eaten?
Well...
you came to the right place.
Here is a nice armchair,
my Grandmother's from Ethen Allen
yes...
a beautiful deep burgundy color
with goldenrod yellow twirling paisley
in a burning orange background...
lovely she is
her shapely curves...
rugged, straight lines
carved into flowers
her cherry stained legs
worn edges...
so soft, comfortable and weathered
I agree
she is very reliable and sturdy
and she is kind
so forgiving...yes?
Oh, fresh coffee ...
ahhhh you smelled it,
of course
here you go
a steaming cup of hopeful dreaming...
brilliant,
in a aromatic plume of Tahitian Hazelnut
swirling ribbons of fresh Vermont cream
cinnamon rolls in the oven
sugary love smells intoxicating...
yes?
glazed sugar awaiting
as cool crisp dried leafy breezes
flow through waiting drapes of warm white linen
Yes, so very poetic this place...
A gift...why I'd say!
I love this time of year
very much...
especially the trees...
floating in the air
the leaf dancers drift silently
waving Goodbye in the Fall winds
Welcome to my Vermont
to the beautiful Green Mountains
in splendid peaking colors
panoramic splendor
The natives so
oh...you know
They call 'em verdant visions
again come springtime
come on, stay awhile
put on a friendly smile
a welcome done in style
my home is your home
take your hat off what's the hurry?
Cherie Nolan © 2016
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 11:25 AM UTC
plug-in your head music
remember being young
on a pogo stick
a unicycle
with training wheels
under
sunshine of your
love
o’ shine on
you crazy
diamond
run in the
jungle
feel the rain
on sunny day
and let it be
misunderstood
stop your moon tears?
run in Reeboks?
come on
you painter of
words
chew
good & plenty
plant
lime lima beans
kaleidoscope kale
juicy fruit gum
harvest
magenta mangos
paisley peaches
or go to an auction
bid on
T-bone
bubble gum
sprout beans
Tahitian telecaster
pre-rolled wagon wheel
sweet sixteen candles
Hound Dog Taylor’s
Brownie McGhee loafers
no?
yes?
don’t change
your lunatic fringe
in twilight’s open season
read
The Hidden Singer
dance
boogie woogie
cha-cha-cha
outside the house of the rising sun
so turn it up, Mr. James
your big wheel
keeps on turnin’
groove
to the little bird
who sings and sings
© 2011 chuck a stetson
Jul 6, 2011
Jul 6, 2011 at 7:07 PM UTC
With the dawning of a new year,
As love in my eyes guides me to you,
Thoughts burning with desire, soft lips kissing,
I write these words of passion to you, my love,
My only love.
The warm breeze from feathers of Angels tickles my heart,
And the blood flows deep in my veins as my passion rises from deep,
Within my Soul, I create fantasies from my thoughts of you.
Your hypnotic dark Tahitian pearl eyes,
Have me under your spell.
I give my life to you. What would you have me do?
Your mysterious black hair,
Shiny and soft, wishing to feel it's touch,
As it covers my eyes with love,
As the sun wakes on a new day,
Our dreams never end.
Just the two of us,
As the rest of the world sleeps;
Taking hold of your soft hand,
As we walk along the quiet beach,
Listening to ocean waves sing,
God created something truly amazing when He made the miracle of you.
These are only words;
Until the end of time plus one thousand years, my love.
There will never be enough love poems written,
That can ever describe how much I love you and only you,
My miracle!
Copyright © 2017 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Jan 16, 2017
Jan 16, 2017 at 3:01 PM UTC
Hello, 'Dark Eyes'
Dark and bright I see in your eyes.
Deep, dark magical eyes...
Like priceless Tahitian pearls...
Dazzling, fascinating,
Magical, delightful...
Deep, dark amazing eyes...
Behind these charming eyes...
I see a beautiful bright soul,
So very bright. These dark eyes warm my heart.
Sparkling with Intelligence, kindness...
Love, truth, talent, hope, faith...
I see shining out of these dark and bright eyes.
Dark and bright I see in your eyes...
Hello, 'Bright Eyes'
Copyright © Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 5:49 AM UTC
Your beauty is in a time so far away that I can never reach,
I stand here in the February 17 snow
and raise a glass of wine to the past,
Your beauty is in a time so far away, that I can never reach,
Your smile is like blooming cherry blossoms in the springtime
Your eyes are as dark and beautiful as Tahitian pearls,
Your beauty is in a time so far away, that I can never reach,
My love for your beauty and charm will always last,
For more than one thousand years your name,
has not been forgotten,
And until the end of time,
My beautiful Queen Seondeok! of Silla,
Your beauty and charm will always last!
© 2014 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 10:27 AM UTC
I so often yearn for the brilliant freedom
children exude at the public pool--
in their Tahitian orange board shorts
swinging like mudflaps against youthful
legs covered in fine, blonde wisps,
girls in lemon sorbet one pieces
standing triumphantly akimbo
at the water's edge with small
protruding bellies for no other
reason than to be, beauties
much like wildflowers, lone columbines
or other pale fauna--
evenly evertan or milky white,
beet sunburns that creep down the sharp points
of shoulder blades, barely held in place by sheets of taut canvas
leaking water and blinking rapidly
beneath oily fingers smeared with sunscreen and diluted
peach creamsicle--fresh glass blades pressed and dried to
little feet as if they were pages out of a wriggling book--
slapping wetly against pavement so hot you could
swear the children sizzle , leaping over bathers--teenage
girls that flinch and scoff--as if they can fly and we are ants,
them, giants who we cannot touch. Whose droplets barely
graze us, whose enveloping warm wind we ignore or
reproach.
If we grow dim and colder as we age then these are still boiling, still
utterly reactive to any and every substance
every limb a curious proboscis, mercurial temperaments and
tiny hearts that flash like switchboards and wallop against
caverns heavy with discovery.
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 7:27 PM UTC
My Star Shine,
My love for you is like,
The brightest of diamonds,
Your face reminds me of,
Happy times and bright, sunny days,
Together, we are like chocolate ice cream and whipped topping.
Oh! lovely Star Shine,
My sweet diamond,
Your beautiful dark eyes, like Tahitian pearls,
The perfect companion for these past 100 days,
Of traveling through my dreams.
Walking along the warm white shore sands,
Holding hands,
Laughing and singing our favorite songs,
How bright and blue the Eastern sea is today,
Can this be reality or only a dream?
I like walking along the warm sandy beach of an Eastern sea,
But not as much as I love kissing you.
Oh darling Star Shine,
Your lips taste like sweet pink cotton candy;
The shining sun sparkles in your soft black, hair.
You're like the brightest sunrise I have ever seen.
Thank you for traveling life with me these past 100 dreamy days,
Today, Valentines day, I give you the keys to my heart,
So you may unlock my Soul.
I love you my Star Shine!
Copyright © 2016 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 9:44 AM UTC
An addendum to 2013 HP poem
"The Road to One Chicken"
with 37,000 "Public" reads.
She was there again, a vision.
Slow walking with assured purpose
and grace not seen in most women
of any age, barefoot or in sandals.
Mainland restrictive shoes unknown,
and not required by her. A free spirit
exhibiting nary a hint of artifice,
a natural unaffected beauty.
Wind fluttering her long dark hair
like a flag atop the mast of a sleet
schooner upon a gentle rolling sea.
A Tahitian girl barely 20 walking
beside me, on a dirt road, by the
vibrant blue Ocean, holding my
hand and smiling.
Not having a common language
our eyes, some pidgin talk and
gestures conveyed all that was
needed. We loved one another
for a few days and nights, and
then too soon I departed as crew
on a sloop bound for Bora Bora,
while she remained happily
behind on her beautiful island.
Both this girl and her island
tenderly vividly remembered,
for over 50 years.
Some impressions last forever.
Unlike myself, she remains young
and vibrant evermore, a benevolent
ghost memory dream only appearing
at night and always assuredly welcome.
Dec 11, 2023
Dec 11, 2023 at 5:20 PM UTC
The devil is a beautiful woman, I crumble in her haunting presence.
She's stained inside the past and she ascends into the present.
She purrs and twirls inside my ears, "the devil's voice is sweet to hear."
That's a pretty .22, up there above the fireplace, I bet it would look prettier reflected on my pretty face. The devil is a pretty girl, her shadow is Tahitian pearl.
She comes and goes without consent, she plagues my dreams with evil ****
I wish the devil was here now, she'd grab a knife and show me how.
The devil has the worst suggestions, I'm prisoner to her subjections.
The devil is here and she is vile, I think she's going to stay a while.
The devil and I might become friends, I hope she doesn't leave again.
We could cook our dinner fancy, play around with necromancy.
Maybe the devil isn't real, she's just a feeling that I feel.
Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 6:35 PM UTC