"tropical" poems
♪♫♪♪
Your beaded snakeskin loincloth
strung beneath humid palms
cool rippling breeze that calms
our hammock hung under thatch
what a catch . . .
your Amazons running into my Congo
lost track of my bongo
back about one mile
from the sources of the Nile:
your jungle smile.
Restoring all celestial things
deep within your tropical clearings . . .
flowing slowly, going loco
at the mythic mouth of the Orinico;
shake your nut-brown biospheres
and banish all my worldly fears.
Dusk is nearing — clearing the hill
insects trilling a sinuous thrill;
the yuca half-mashed in the clay ***
the witch doctor hungover in his hut
while our little fire smolders
near the mountains of the moon
—or are they only boulders?
Come soon
Jesus, Lord of the Jungle . . .
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 9:22 PM UTC
Stressed ?, Tensed ?, Frustrated in a blow ?,
Go to desert, beach, hill or a mountain of snow,
Sure, plan a trip, better make it solo.
Be free, feel the thrill, fear, love as you go.
Travel to unknowns, meet strangers say hello.
Feeling hurt?,
Stretch a desert,
Feel the sand,
Slipping through your hand,
Realise everything isn't in your control
A camel safari make it a goal.
Experience the culture, mix with locals
to rediscover yourself.
Are you in pain?
Head to mountains,
Altitude will test you in every way,
Your petty issues will go stray,
Try trekking, feel the snow,
Chilly breeze upland it blow,
Challenge your limits.
Trivial issues but mighty mountains digits.
When in doubt,
A beach you scout,
Feel the tropical sun,
Respect the relentless sea overrun,
You surf, sail and try the scooba fun.
Go beyond, challenge your limits,
Experience the miracles of nature,
Subside your pain, let stress be a bygone,
Rediscover yourself in the far unknown.
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 5:28 PM UTC
I wish I was a dragonfly,
Blue in the shimmering sun
Settling on the tropical palms,
When my breeze guided journey was done.
The tips of my wings would softly skim
The water of the pool,
A microscopic dragon in flight
My eyes, two kaleidoscope jewels.
My family would have existed for three million years,
Or more,
But I shall glide for just six weeks,
Enough time to see, what’s worth flying for.
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 5:30 AM UTC
"Purple Orchid"
A symbol of rare beauty
Exotic. Delicate. Mysterious
Precious, in every way
Lost in a tropical land of
Purple Haze,
I am there
Whispering with a tinge of
Innocence yet wild
With passionate dark desires.
A calm stability of blue and
The fierce energy of red
Stimulating mystery and thrill,
A darkened flower
Of refined passion
With strikingly lush petals,
Intoxicating.
In his mind,
I am
A
Purple Orchid
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
***That Night by the ocean
The waves sung me a lullaby
Of palm tree silhouettes
And tropical sunsets
Of singing waves
And gritty white sand
Of lemonade sipped on the shore
Of nocturnal ukuleles singing a melody
Of sandy flip-flops left on the sand
Of little ocean seashells
And ocean treasures beneath the waves
Of hibiscus blossoms in bloom
Of tropical fruits
Of salty breezes stirring my brown hair
Of tropical Nights
And on and on their lullaby went
And hushed me to sleep***
~Marian~
Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 6:15 PM UTC
*In tropical seas,
A pinkish-red coral pose,
Like piece of jewel.*
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 4:22 AM UTC
Gold crown of Olympus, hair crown and
Skin gown. First we throw our bodies at
One another. Heaping piles of human soup.
Bold maneuvers, hands and mouths and
Boy meets girl lying down, on top, intertwined.
Skittish moves on a tryst. Wet fingers of freshly
Tendered infinite decibel pleasure screams.
Streamers above a long rooting movement.
Overture of Aphrodite. Sparkling, glitter woman,
Legs pressed tightly to the chest,
Loose appendages intertwined. Intersticed dactyls
In rapture, soothing. Bodies build to one heart's beat.
Two muses fused together. If I wasn't afraid I'd wake you up
I'd slip on my shoes and make a tropical fruit fondue.
Stage two:
Ice cream lover's delight. Opus to brown sugar.
To swimming again, a pursed lurking of lips
In the academy of the pastoral commonwealth.
We eat at our stations of the sublime. Today which was
A day of discord- you nursed me back to the land of the living.
Stage three:
***
Stage four.
***
Stage five:
As we earn our pageantry to take
Stride on this Earth, and string a
Great bow of eager success among all of us,
You, me, them. While I continue to
Gaze at you. If not dinner, perhaps a
Cup of tea instead.
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 4:35 AM UTC
i woke up this morning
and i was in a rainforest
and i didn't know how to feel
so i felt happy
i woke up this morning
and i was in a rainforest
green and lush and tropical
and full of hidden life
i woke up this morning
and i was not in my bed anymore
i was on the dense canopy floor
beneath graceful towering giants
i woke up this morning
and i was in a rainforest
and i didn't know what to feel
so i felt wonder
i looked around
at what had sprung up over night
and i realized
that it had been there all along
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 12:19 PM UTC
In the depths of azure of my mystical dream
The warm summer winds that pull me downstream
On a river of gold that runs through my mind
Past billowing curtains of tropical vines
To a verdant green garden that captures my eye
Neath the circling dance of the birds in the sky
My poetry goddess, she waits for me there
So graceful in form with a beauty so rare
She’s calling me back with a warm serenade
From heavenly meadows of blossoming jade
In the depths of azure of my mystical dream
And the warm summer winds that pull me downstream.
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 1:29 AM UTC
***They love where the waves wash up on the shore
And where sunsets and sunrises are always
Seen from the rocky islands
With the silhouettes of palm trees
As the sun goes down behind
The curtain of the west
And takes his rest
Then the Moon and stars
Come out and twinkle
And shine their brightness
For all to see
And the Sea Fairies
Come out on the shore
And dance to the Tropical songs
That all Sea Fairies love to sing
And they dance upon the shore
They dance all Night
When tired they sit upon the cool sand
Of the beach
And sit there
Watching the waves
And the dark blue sea
With it's reflection of the full Moon
The Hibiscus is awake with the
Sea Fairies
And she unfurls her soft sweet petals
Towards the full Moon***
~Marian~
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 10:57 AM UTC
The first new star flashed waves of blue tonight ,
securing my belief in the afterlife
A grove of ferns lit my imagination
For I became a shipwrecked captain -
that stumbled upon an island nation
Exploring the deep jungle without machete ,
potable water nor compass
Knee deep in mangrove forest
Tropical winds whispered and moaned
A lean-to of fronds became my maritime home
In the presence of a million stars
An army of sand ***** paraded before -
their newfound master from near and afar
Crashing waves lulled a poor sailor to rest
The whispers of Poseidon
A dream about a lookout in the crows nest
Counting orbs in the tail of the Milky Way-
with visions of mermaids , ghost ships and rogue waves
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 9:05 PM UTC
The sweet fragrance of hibiscus
its petals soaked with dew like sparkling jewels
mingling with the tropical song of the waves dashing against the sandy shore
where my mind travels so often to
tropical birds hush to sleep the world and every living thing
but morning wakes with dew sweet hibiscus blooms
and happy dancing butterflies kiss those petals of hibiscus flowers
such ineffable beauty that takes my breath away and when I inhale
I breathe in the sweet hibiscus blooms mingling with the smell of the salty sea
with my pen to paper I describe what I see and witness in my mind's eye
oh how I wish the journeys on the wings of imagination would last forever
but sadly the all too soon end just like sweet hibiscus dreams
~Marian~
Feb 14, 2013
Feb 14, 2013 at 6:12 PM UTC
Summer breeze,
the sun beats down on me.
It leaves me a mark,
paints me like my ancestors.
A radiant glow.
An exotic flower from the tropical
gardens of Colombia.
Just like an exotic flower from the tropical
gardens of Colombia.
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 8:01 PM UTC
stars and radio master
intercloud motion—1000 light
years in most directions. However,
I am still blind to anything
but you. This
dark matter aloha steps
off my mind’s plane
into the muggy air. A string
of flowers is placed around
my neck, and I look up—
starbursts
spit their rings violent and
central—your body
in music. Now, tropical
space—population
one. A tear rolls down
my face onto the
runway—I can’t remember
the sound of
your voice.
Jun 8, 2017
Jun 8, 2017 at 3:31 PM UTC
-Until We Meet Again-
Pele has lost one of her lovers.
I miss the goddess in all her majesty; Her deep blue oceans, sweet sandy beaches, Her dark black hair billowing down like the lava from the peaks of Her highest volcanoes.
Her seven sacred pools, each one cascading gracefully into the next, all finally spilling into her magnificent sea.
Her gorgeous body will forever entice my mind, with hair dark and beautiful, inhaling the scent of fresh pineapple and coconut, a hibiscus flower pinning back strands of hair behind her ear.
Her eyes, they were just as deep and amazing as the sea, something with which they were so familiar.
With lips red and lined with Hawaiian love songs sung just for you, tasting as fresh and young as the ocean itself.
Her body was adorned with fresh tropical flower leis and Kukui beads falling gracefully over ancient Hawaiian dress; all made from the same grass and leaves coming from the islands many trees.
All encircling those perfect hips, born to Hula and sway to any island rhythm, be it the slow and steady rattle of the Uli Uli, or the fast and powerful beat of the Pahu drum.
Finally pushed over the edge by the sight of her long tan legs, not shy to the suns warmth and fiery grasp, ending in bare feet more familiar to the islands then we’ll ever be.
I miss her and all her islands.
Oh, how I miss the island paradise Hawaii.
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 4:26 PM UTC
stranded in
the beauty of her throat shunted
her preference
a short drop
in a bulwark twisting knot
a hanged ghastly pendent
her feet arching desperately in search of a floor
they will never find
obedient!
yet
her face
a hideous insubordination
she dissolves like tropical butter
a screaming silence
a falling prayer
shuddering
with downward sloping limbs
she
blue
hemorrhaging
eyes wobbled
bulging to break into paradise
tumbling
like a dizzied cyclops
as numb lipped jutting howls
turn cement
always willing to help
he scums
for her
in pulsing heaves
of beatific gush
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 10:46 AM UTC
*Just when the sun illuminates,
Upon the sapphire skies,
And the clouds appear,
To slowly dance, side by side.
Shimmery, cobalt blue waters,
Perform a low sequence, on the seaside,
Leaving a bubbling blanket,
On the surface of smooth sands,
Washing away, pretentiously.
Bringing a gentle tropical zephyr,
With rhythmic sounds,
Echoing, through evergreen pinnate leaves,
Swinging gently, into the calming air.
Inspiring a magical after glow,
With dreams fulfilled,
In ecstasy,
Leaving a warm and peaceful impression.*
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 8:48 PM UTC
They set off from white rocks,
red geraniums, blue tile,
and let the green sea
lift and drop their ships far above the white foam waves.
The stony islands that were home
were swallowed in minutes by the hungry Atlantic
but they hunted the big fish,
the giant whales with human eyes
who rolled and sang and swam
in oceans a continent away.
They came from Sao Jorge, Sao Miguel
Faial, Pico, Terceira, Horta -
Nine island emeralds set in a black volcanic chain,
neither of the old country nor the new:
Halfway there and halfway gone -
secret jewels of the Portuguese sailors.
They sailed into unknown waters,
south around tropical shores
where dragons smoked and writhed on the rocks
and birds with brilliant red and yellow plumage
rose in clouds around their heads.
Then north, and north, north again
to colder waters
where sea lions barked and lunged
at the strange massive wooden beast
that coursed the waters,
strung with brown bodies swaying
on the lines and cursing the sails.
North still they swept
casting contemptuous eyes on
the cheap turquoise waters and monstrous slow turtles
of the Sea of Cortez.
Coming up from the desert, past the palms and the yucca,
the Joshua tree and Spanish daggers,
they chased their smooth grey prey,
riding the vast Pacific on their wooden island,
herding the leviathans onto their spears,
adventurers with an audience of only
gulls and sky and seal.
Until they sailed too close one day
to a rock-strewn shoreline
and saw the golden hills.
Gnarled oaks like grandmothers from home
with orange poppy jewels at their feet,
missions strung like beads in a ruby marked rosary.
The boats slowed, ****** in by a Scylla of soil
rich and brown and loamy
waiting to be seeded with grapes and apricots
peaches, avocados, lettuce, alfalfa,
fertile and heavy with sweet promise.
And the whales sang and the lions barked and the gulls cried
but the sailors were entranced, encharmed, ensorcelled.
The treacherous sea, the mysterious deep, the stony jewels of home,
called and wept
and waited in vain for the sailors
- beached and grounded -
cutting not waves but earth,
tracking seasons not whales,
seduced by dirt.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 9:51 PM UTC
I see you there
on your white sand beach,
in your little tight bikini.
Looking like a creamy white treat.
Infidel *****
Exposed skin
men all ogling your body,
with eyes like hands!
How would you like me
to take off my clothes in front of you!
Touch your body,
and kiss your lips!
Then you would see the effect you Infidel Flaunting Sexuality!
Your curvaceous body,
coated in sweat from the inflamed sun.
My blood boils thinking of you!
I am going to **** you American!
Put my tongue in your mouth,
kiss you!
Like you do in your pervert mind.
Your naughty fantasy
of naked man,
kissing you on a sunny beach,
tropical drink in one hand,
other hand rubbing and probing my body!
Infidel *****
Laying there,
so ****
you make me crazy!
Your passion *** will burn
in sinful fires,
and Allah will pass judgement
on your ***
I will **** you, for punishment
to your Infidel Flaunting Sexuality,
******* glistening,
lips red as the drink you drink.
Infidel *****
Jul 29, 2012
Jul 29, 2012 at 6:57 AM UTC
Maybe you're the colosseum. The code to get through the glass doors is actually just '1954'. You could put up the painting of me at auction, or I could take a cruise from London to the Islands North of Siberia, a stop in a department store in Northern Greece. I stop and take a ride in the middle front-third seat of a older friend's younger brother's car, and force all of them to come outside and see the spider's eggs at Bob-o-Link. Massive cornucopias of cotton walls entwined with silk.
In the department store I ask to be introduced to someone who can take me by the hand and recognize me by my number, show me everything I'll need to shoot a full-length feature, even how I can get to Prague so I can do a little shopping. But the horror of seeing is so frightening, and the girl that I came with wants to do nothing.
I find a little shop selling Czech candies, music, and newspapers, so I try to buy everything but the horror is getting closer. I'm in a lazy Susan, how often does that happen? One more turn and I'll lose my stomach contents and then I won't need anything.
I take a climb up a street that says "Smrzlinu Ahead," but the houses on the street are all either empty or boarded up. I drift in the soccer field, watching my legs, looking over my shoulder. I fall for a pile of clothes that can hide me but are also very soft to lay in.
Another cruise- tropical, perhaps? Somewhere for coy adults, who shed their skin in Winter when their eyes start molting off. Someday I will place both hands into the ocean, I'll dream huge, and go swimming until I start to laugh. One day I'll sink to the floor of the bourn, maybe the same day I wake up and I'm not swimming alone.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:28 AM UTC
*The smell of hibiscus blooms
Fragrance the beautiful evening
From somewhere in the distance
The strings of the ukulele can be heard
Lone tropical girls dance to its beautiful melody
And I begin to play my ukulele too
And I too begin to dance
On that beautiful evening
When the sky had fallen asleep
With a faint sunset in the west
And the salty breezes blew
Across each beautiful palm tree
Such a beautiful evening I can see
Only in the silver cord
Of my mind's eye*
~Marian~
Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 6:04 PM UTC