"twining" poems
*Love in garden rose
Her little hands twining tight
Heart rapt in tendril*
Aug 9, 2012
Aug 9, 2012 at 8:17 PM UTC
( Sonnet )
Under the primrose stars, the lovers
Lie abed, on green, threadbare croft
Of sleeping daisy, clover and moss,
Trails with hushed air, an embroidery
So fine as to stitch blushing heart fall
And wrap the waters full of quietude
In graces, winding, soft, granulating
Time, wings flutter and hum, winsome
Sparks, fire white, flying as little suns
Burst confetti, in sweet encampment,
Of grass and sapling wood, innocents,
Charmed are wholly twining, in moon
Rise a lantern to the winking heavens,
Out of their skins they are climbing.
May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 1:06 PM UTC
Enchanted by spring’s
rustling whispers
... whistles swirl
in the pungent springtime breeze;
steeped with a bedazzling
cadence
heart dancing
to a hummingbird’s
whirs
waves of breath,
of little wings waft,
whooshing throughout
twining honeysuckle lattice
a
tiny manger
beset of hidden gold
precious speckled eggs,
silver lining of smallest hopes
fruits of fruition
continuum beheld prize,
concealed in interwoven rootlets;
potently perfumed flowers
while away
the waning dark hours;
swollen full flower moon
waxing yellow,..
heavenly fragrance
sweetly-scented suckled nectar
the one with eyes of a child,
wonder ― hidden inside,
marvel in the light of grateful eyes
imbibing an unholdable moment's
spellbinding elixir
... poetry alive
air so poignantly perfumed
with blossom
moonstruck
by spring’s frolicking cadency
a reverent moment's
edifying intoxication
a sobering beauty that just is...
someone ... May 2017
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 12:19 PM UTC
Métis, Themis, Ma’at, their banter was for naught.
All the tides and tithings wisdoms and their teachings, Daemonium forgot!
But the heavens cry manna as Nix cried out reprieve!
An act that loosed the flood, the chaos of her sea.
Her pain arose a champion to tend to all her needs,
Formed of Celestial Ocean he bore down on the freed.
A giant wave of madness, thrusting mist of sadness eradicating gladness... One led the ruthless breed.
Opaque in their beginning, formless shapes in twining.
Conjoined but not together, accompanied the weather.
Thalassa’s stringy tether wrapped them all forever.
Come or go in seasons, live or die in age.
No Spring to Fall in reasons, travailing of the mage?
Black tentacles the streamers, rooted into wave.
Witness the all-wise and snaking phantom phage...
Chiron watches while he prances, his dressage on the shore.
Arising liminal of beings wettened ambiguity of yore.
Even Iblis is impressed, such black rotten to the core!
Merkabah or egg, mountain, belly, tree they squabble.
All elements do I cobble, such are actions of the wobble.
Jul 16, 2016
Jul 16, 2016 at 7:28 PM UTC
I seethe within what echoes disdain for all things wanting, because I can't seem to keep what's there to begin with
The desire to purge prior prose and start from scratch beseeches my mind to scrawl what dire nuance calls my name, but I don't look it in the eyes
It's my demon; my voice that resonates deep within; the call of all things mired by fate-less whispers of what's more, or right
But I know, it can't be how I desire. What can be will only come when time sets right the means to seek it out; to reach for whatever may be reaching back at me
I can't move forward unless I know for certain what's there would not bring more desolation. I am a coward, but am I human? I ask myself that every waking moment
I crave nothing more than to be normalized and reverberate with twining string of fate that actually calls my name, not the sour tones of dissonance and disdain as before
I crave reality to be my own, rather than reality to own everything I can not
I seek, eternally.. I find nothing but light that touches the surface, but never does the sun actually rise.
Bring me to my own horizon, bring me fate, bring me peace..
I hope..
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 3:48 AM UTC
The master of emotion,
The king of the dance,
Hurried fingers add
A note of daring chance.
Molten happiness
Floats in the air
Like a passing good dream;
With never a care.
Now poignant,
Now sad,
How melencholy
How deep and drab.
Silver metal gleams
In the eye of the mind,
Lost an ancient battles
On which the sun shined.
Melodies curl around inside,
Twining round my arms-
This music can protect me
From any kind of harm.
Sharp, shrieking voices
Let out a scream
As they find out the world
Is not what it seems.
A starry night captures
A beautiful song
For a love through the ages,
The ages so long.
The smooth rythms
Of the everlasting trees
Whisper quietly
Throughout the leaves.
Musty notes
In a darkened room,
And sunshine floods
Into the gloom.
Music tells the truth
And the truth never lies,
But pianos are tricky
And their feelings they hide.
Anger forces the
Furious beats
Into the world
And off silent sheets.
Midnight and brightness
Float in the stars,
Connecting all people,
So close and so far.
Pure and simple,
Liquid notes
Fall in arpeggio scales
Through dancing dust motes.
A single tears falls,
Making no sound
As keys pull memories
Up from the ground.
Everything's so simple
When played in black and white;
The piano controls
My darkness and light.
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 1:50 PM UTC
If I said I want you,
Would you run and tell the stars
To close their eyes and ring dry
The clouds of tears?
If I said let me hold you,
Would the earth crack open,
To shudder the rolling lands,
Not cradle the hatching seeds?
If I said I am yours,
Would your name soon dissolve
And be lost in the revolving
Night that candles you in light?
If I heard your voice,
In twining dream and woke
Beside you talking in your sleep
What would your question be?
If I called your name,
Before the first sunning year
And heard you, Echo in the wind,
Would time guide us to the door?
Jul 2, 2012
Jul 2, 2012 at 2:22 AM UTC
Some say you can't read someone's thoughts.
Some claim to read them like a book.
It's phantom pages may engage
but I move on from thought to thought.
Those readings choke like a bindweed cloak,
coiling, twining, transmuting brutes.
Stereotypes shape many folk,
stifling, stunting valuable fruit.
Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 11:02 AM UTC
belaboring hurt-bells
of twilight
outside there is a furious wind
sweeping the sour-faced pavement.
the helm of the morning
fits through the pinecones.
through the dandelion,
the diadem of some mystic flower,
the flurry of children
and the fury of the populace.
i know whence the wind stirs
cold flame from the many a dead
stones, sequined floor and the
dreary stillicide of night.
our bodies rise to the sun
that is a full woman
or a ripe apple
or a half-bitten moon in glare
and when her lips purse
there is pang in the wind that blows austere beneath the foot
of hills in ruin.
let the night come later than
a bird's secret sojourn,
or the cicada's enigma.
let the cathedral of my heart
quiver later than the unsheathing
of the night's bone
but in the twilight,
when the skies are bruised with
silence and somnolent without voice
my hands shall leap into the wind
and make do, the belaboring
hurt-bells of twilight.
no more than a crepuscular twining
of a sad vine on a melancholy hymn
that makes fuller with its tender
maneuvers, the trundling in
love's wearisome vessel.
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 11:20 PM UTC
She rides the chanting waves
At the seas horizon,
In fires of star sheen and moon shine,
Sweet Niamh of the golden hair, and aqua eyes,
Princess of the green sea turtles,
Of the coral sea grottos,
Anemone naves and kelpie skins,
Trailing the rainbow schools of the whirling fin,
The whole twining ocean globe of blue is swooning
Under the milky waving skies and unfathoming deeps,
Her laughter lighting the unremembered bottom of the seas.
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 1:24 PM UTC
I'll tell you a story about two young brothers.
Like fire and smoke, that's what was said.
Always together, laughing and singing,
Sharing adventures, sharing their bread.
One day these two brothers both became lovers.
Yes! They both fell in love at the very same time.
Though always before they'd shared all their secrets,
This was a secret they would not confide.
Each of the brothers went into the garden.
One picked a red rose, the other a white.
They rode off at sunset, not one word between them
In opposing directions, into the night.
At the balcony window of her father's veranda
Rosa is anxiously scanning the street
Pablo is late now, soon Hector will ride up
This cannot happen! They surely will meet!
Rosa hears hoof beats from different directions,
Riders approaching along cobbled streets.
Each bearing a rose, and a heart full of passion
Brothers no more, but two rivals that meet.
A challenge is offered and is quickly accepted.
Their swords are both drawn before Rosa can speak.
She cries out to stop them, their blood's screaming louder.
They fight like two madmen and fall at her feet.
Their life ebbing from them, they lie there before her,
Rosa is sobbing, "Oh what have I done?"
She kisses their lips, so cold now and pallid,
And sheds her tears on them, so soon to be gone.
Bending over her lovers, they whisper to her,
"Take these two roses, and plant them tonight
on each side of your window, they'll grow up together.
Our love will be with you, though we die in this fight."
That's the story he told me, when I was a small boy,
When I asked my papa of that house on the right,
With it's balcony window grown over with roses,
Twining together, the red and the white.
And each day at sunset, Rosa goes to the old church.
She kneels at the altar to say her long prayers.
Lighting two candles before the Mother of Mercy,
One red and one white rose she lays gently there.
Nov 26, 2010
Nov 26, 2010 at 4:39 PM UTC
Sweet twining hedgeflowers wind-stirred in no wise
On this June day; and hand that clings in hand:—
Still glades; and meeting faces scarcely fann’d:—
An osier-odoured stream that draws the skies
Deep to its heart; and mirrored eyes in eyes:—
Fresh hourly wonder o’er the Summer land
Of light and cloud; and two souls softly spann’d
With one o’erarching heaven of smiles and sighs:—
Even such their path, whose bodies lean unto
Each other’s visible sweetness amorously,—
Whose passionate hearts lean by Love’s high decree
Together on his heart for ever true,
As the cloud-foaming firmamental blue
Rests on the blue line of a foamless sea.
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My limbs are wasted with a flame,
My feet are sore with travelling,
For, calling on my Lady’s name,
My lips have now forgot to sing.
O Linnet in the wild-rose brake
Strain for my Love thy melody,
O Lark sing louder for love’s sake,
My gentle Lady passeth by.
She is too fair for any man
To see or hold his heart’s delight,
Fairer than Queen or courtesan
Or moonlit water in the night.
Her hair is bound with myrtle leaves,
(Green leaves upon her golden hair!)
Green grasses through the yellow sheaves
Of autumn corn are not more fair.
Her little lips, more made to kiss
Than to cry bitterly for pain,
Are tremulous as brook-water is,
Or roses after evening rain.
Her neck is like white melilote
Flushing for pleasure of the sun,
The throbbing of the linnet’s throat
Is not so sweet to look upon.
As a pomegranate, cut in twain,
White-seeded, is her crimson mouth,
Her cheeks are as the fading stain
Where the peach reddens to the south.
O twining hands! O delicate
White body made for love and pain!
O House of love! O desolate
Pale flower beaten by the rain!
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Two halves of soul twining under moon's wane,
Out to seek freedom from pain,
Becomes one who the stars reach to;
A stable sense of self anew.
One who gazes in the hours of witch,
A shadow in the midnight pitch;
Chaos that found peace in the calm of night,
A void that has finally been filled with light.
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 2:25 AM UTC
The eyes that mock me sign the way
Whereto I pass at eve of day.
Grey way whose violet signals are
The trysting and the twining star.
Ah star of evil! star of pain!
Highhearted youth comes not again
Nor old heart's wisdom yet to know
The signs that mock me as I go.
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.
When a
twister a-twist
ing will twist him a
twist, • For the twist
ing his twist, he
three times doth
intwist; • But if o
ne of the the twi
nes of the twist d
o untwist, • The t
wine that untwist
eth untwisteth th
e twist. • Untwirli
ng the twine that
untwisteth betwe
en,• He twists wit
h the twister the t
wo in a twine; • Then twice
having twisted the twines of the twine,
• He twisteth the twine he had twined
in twain.• The tw ain that in twining
before in the tw ine • As twined we
re intwisted he now doth intwine
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 3:40 PM UTC
Lupine casts the shadows
Tattooed on the skins of
Twining lovers.
Their pale ******
Intensifies the purple and violet
Splashes dotted on the soft green rugs.
The two lovers roll
Atop and under,
Aside and over,
Their sweet sweat distracts the bees from
Their honey foray.
Bees buzz
Lovers sigh
Perfection in its abundance.
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 4:37 PM UTC
Sol winds seed Gaia,
Ritual of twining breaths,
Lovers unspoken bond.
Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 5:53 PM UTC
Lately I have been hanging your voice on my wall.
It came in ten different frames,
and I spent hours adjusting them
until they hugged the wall at the perfect angle,
their gilded bodies pressing against painted emptiness,
whitewashed space.
And when I feel nostalgia
twining around my veins like wild ivy,
I only need to reach out and –
“Hello. My name is –“
“Hello. My name –“
“Hello. (Stop.) My. (Stop.) Name. (Stop.) Is. (Stop.)”
“Hellomynameis –“
Do you remember that?
Did you know my hands shook,
that I tripped over words like I do
with miniscule cracks in the sidewalk,
that my heart stuttered
thumpthump thu thump thuuump thumpthumpthump
and how it hasn’t quite been the same ever since?
“I love you.”
“I love (rewind) – love (rewind) – I love (rewind)– love (rewind)– I love you.”
“I love –“
“Iloveyou.”
You thought you could pry me open
and tear down my walls
and then suddenly you did.
It only took three words to start a hurricane in my heart.
Did you ever notice the aftermath,
the broken homes and homeless souls?
I am still rebuilding.
I hammered this one into my soul,
can still feel the echo of your words
pounding away in my bones:
“Goodbye.”
“Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.”
“Good…(clickclickclick)… bye.”
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 9:43 PM UTC
A sin of darkness, buries silvered waters, where breathing is as tangible as a caress;
The circle turns, unceasing, around my feral heart,
Unfettered as the tides, where desire ebbs and flows;
Through rainbows, spun with roses, swaying beneath shadows...
Crystals of feathered lace sense his rhythm; like whispers
Drifting past things I dared not dream,
Clinging to misted breath; cradling me unconditional;
Wrapped in strands of tender, I discover him,
In a sacred place, where cheek meets chest,
And bodies find recognition...
His shadow across satin, the pattern of my emerald draped desire,
Coating my silhouette in a musky promise, cocooned in timeless abandon,
My eyes sing with the gentleness of baby's breath, lips fill with the softness of rainbows,
Of cloudburst kisses, trailing tenderly from forehead to cheek, to moistened mouth;
His darkness, drinking deep, a black satin desire...
Eyes of fire, burn my skin, searing into me,
Demands; as heat wraps, twining through me, gazing past absolution
Expressions of want, shine radiance, reflecting need;
My breath brushes against questions held in his eyes,
His murmurs tightly thrusting a foreplay sliding in cushioned madness,
In crescent moons that bleed....
Fingers encircle, tracing the wet I create, hands grasp tender submission,
My body given, raw, arched, grasping darkness within his eyes,
Rampant...and forbidden, my unwoven breath....shatters
Upon the mastery of his moonlight storm.
A suckle flush against a throbbing womb,
Swept away against passion's throes...
Cradled, in ache, chaos spilt between us in rivers,
Swirling within the scarlet spill, I am strung out,
Like the lights I have found , eternal, in his eyes entranced;
I weep for the beauty he pours, lips bleeding his crimson name;
I touch him, touching me, in the weave of promise, stained upon his smile...............
Aug 8, 2012
Aug 8, 2012 at 5:36 PM UTC
She rides the chanting waves
At the seas horizon,
In fires of star sheen and moon shine,
Sweet Niamh of the golden hair, and aqua eyes,
Princess of the green sea turtles,
Of the coral sea grottos,
Anemone naves and kelpie skins,
Trailing the rainbow schools of the whirling fin,
The whole twining ocean globe of blue is swooning
Under the milky waving skies and unfathoming deeps,
Her laughter lighting the unremembered bottom of the seas.
Mar 30, 2013
Mar 30, 2013 at 1:59 PM UTC
She rides the chanting waves
At the seas horizon,
In fires of star sheen and moon shine,
Sweet Niamh of the golden hair, and aqua eyes,
Princess of the green sea turtles,
Of the coral sea grottos,
Anemone naves and kelpie skins,
Trailing the rainbow schools of the whirling fin,
The whole twining ocean globe of blue is swooning
Under the milky waving skies and unfathoming deeps,
Her laughter lighting the unremembered bottom of the seas.
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 2:27 PM UTC
roses
spurted as if from fountains atop messy beds
of lilies and lilacs,
jumbled together in a rush of colour that
seemed to have more and more detail
the more you gazed at it.
the sun shone
over the garden like liquid honey
melting over the peeling paint
of the white trellis that held
twining ivy
and heavily scented jasmine in its grasp.
and there, glazing the morning garden,
lay an aureate, flaxen
glow.
Jan 11, 2019
Jan 11, 2019 at 6:25 PM UTC
The morning world in mist dissolves and under,
Towed to heaven, we, a plod below the death
Of clouds, sing mute, where they trumpet-glide
Flashing into peace. Three-toed slabs, parched
Of orange, web the stars over the wine
Dark seas and chalk the churn and twining earth
Into gloaming. In rapt stillness they,
Are import and income, parables,
Echoes of the innocent song sung to a spire,
Gilded hutches, to those who heap on brightness
Swans are brighter even more with blackest
Eyes, they pierce the silent shroud all starry.
I wish that we were like two swans my love,
Neck of nape, embracing without touch.
Jul 12, 2012
Jul 12, 2012 at 5:53 PM UTC
I reached the Alps: the soul within me burned,
Italia, my Italia, at thy name:
And when from out the mountain’s heart I came
And saw the land for which my life had yearned,
I laughed as one who some great prize had earned:
And musing on the marvel of thy fame
I watched the day, till marked with wounds of flame
The turquoise sky to burnished gold was turned.
The pine-trees waved as waves a woman’s hair,
And in the orchards every twining spray
Was breaking into flakes of blossoming foam:
But when I knew that far away at Rome
In evil bonds a second Peter lay,
I wept to see the land so very fair.
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