"ultramarine" poems
The lantern bunting
Is looped between the street
Lamps against the sea
It is gorgeous
When you walk among them
And see
The dusk
When horizons
of ultramarine and seaweed
collide with cantaloupe and dusty red and honey .
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 3:29 AM UTC
1.
Eyes, eager fish, in deep Himalayan blue, splash and swim
the ultramarine sky of the mind, gets color coordinated, in resonance
wind from across the ranges, incessantly chant guttural "Öm"
gently spreads waves, that on ears, vibrate as music,divine
our feet get liberated from mind's control, the trek becomes us.
2.
Eyes now, turn swifts, fly to the valley extending to horizon,
teeming with flowers of every hue, profusion of orchids,
rolling white clouds above,create *tantric patterns
of grace, swirls, swoops,scoops, somersaults,the trek goes on.
3.
Melting ice, fits well on the conical brown mountain tops,
a white bodice, perfect cover for her lovely peaks,
angular mounts gleam in the limitless avalanche
of light, an impulse for benediction is palpable.
4.
Simple folks of village, on the way side
in flowing colorful dresses ***** tall poles
festoons of bright colors, joyous prayer flags flutter in wind
proclaims festive spirit, they vigorously wave.
5.
Now heart overwhelms, sings the paeans of
a sky that changes it's face from blue to white
and sometimes, a hue so bleak, deep gloom,
on red brown earth, sun light prances around.
6.
The grass bed then transforms quick,
mind drinks the dense benediction peace brings
that coils inside the soft blue waves, beating within and out
7.
Himalayan blue has taken us in to it's embrace
bird songs ring along the path of ancient sages,
who went in to the forest abode to contemplate, never returned,
became one with the hum of cosmos, they walk within us.
Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 6:05 AM UTC
Many mornings now,
as day opens its sky eyes
to early sunlight,
Silence pervades all that I am,
or might ever want to be.
Speaking is natural, and life goes on,
but for the tug on my heart,
to go deeper, ever deeper
into the ocean of silence.
Ancient lands of my ancestry
are calling me
to come home now
and
be near the sea.
My own sea, salty and blue,
red rocks plunging
into stormy union
with ultramarine.
Be that I was selkie, I was mermaid,
I know these places where I lived and loved,
breathing underwater in perfect, silent freedom.
Perfection, a sidhi,
might be,
to live as a sadhvi selkie.
Knowing timelessness
through ancient, silent wisdom,
feeling, loving, living
and swimming in unboundedness.
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 11:54 PM UTC
your eyes don't glisten like they used to
just saying it's not something usual for you
*so I guess you're heavily imbued
with this crestfallen attitude?*
yea I know,
I've changed in the same way
my own little reverse-breakthrough
Risque foreplay with ultramarine Bombay
before stepping in to emcee the Devil's soiree
And no, you really don't --and honestly never did-- know me;
you only knew one of many façades I brazed
on my face
in the midst of a cliche
New Year's day typa haze
During the phase of
my infamously tempestuous craze
I was precipitously *(ignited
quite possibly by my own
flaring sparks)*
set ablaze with praise
but my mores seem to be misplaced
probably somewhere in the frenzy and hysteria
So I guess I'm left to embrace my untraced boundaries
*And get my viridian eyes back to glistening
on their own viridescent terms
Not codependent on the hollowed adulation
and sweet-talk from bamboccioni*
Feb 24, 2018
Feb 24, 2018 at 6:52 AM UTC
Since we met in this life we’ve been so together
The trees and the sky will tell you, just ask them
Since, frankly and completely as one
Searching our souls, discovering each other and ourselves
Loving, living and learning with no effort at all
Moulding our life to divine goals, elements exploring
Each day we grow, smoothing our rituals and tasks
Simple, small, understated and beautiful
Yet enormous, devastating and wonderful
I’ve never been clearer in mind nor more ordered
Serious or intended, structured yet mesmerised and dreamy
Child-like pleasures our little hearts
Honestly, knowing you has given an exclusive season of patience
A crown of peace with measures of muted resonance
My emotion and behaviour jangle with excitement
Gaining speed and velocity as our developing love fertilises everything we do
If any part of me was withheld or absent it was without cognisance or most importantly intent
I was always here totally, loving you with an undivided heart
Building our future and having the truest most delightful life
Such destiny within two earthly beings, such kismet
But no..earth is not from where we sprung
No logic or contract by human standards but from cosmos and celestial forces
Stardust, moonbeams, sunlight and energy
Our future is viridian, cobalt, alizarin, ultramarine, carmine...
Colours drawn from a bow of happiness with arrows of true love
Thudding into our hearts every single moment
Rainbows of kindly sparkly crystals reflecting each tiny emotion
Willow tree flexibility, cool streams of pure clear water whisper in our ears
Look to your soul and to the memories of our short time together
Begin to believe that life is so very good ,so treasured like us
Darling Jan my complete lover
The wife I’ve always had, true soul provider, custodian of my heart
Clearer in the transformation from Jan and Max to a ‘whole’ inseparable
By anyone or anything for all time and eternity..
Even better knowing that as always
Now even more.....I’m all yours
Feb 3, 2010
Feb 3, 2010 at 12:22 PM UTC
a comely mermaid
has
lost
her diamond
necklace
she has
decided
to let
it go
she won't
be happy
without
the briny
breeze
she won't
be happy
without
ultramarine
she won't
be happy
without
the eternal
welkin
she wants
happiness
but not
the necklace
Jun 7, 2022
Jun 7, 2022 at 3:05 PM UTC
Juicy persimmon of the color spectrum,
you wait, as paint, for the right brush
to give you an imaginary life.
Live it up! Dance in all your glowing
intensity! Ultramarine now offers you
cooling shade, and a respite from all
that you so vibrantly are.
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 6:38 PM UTC
Beyond the dense woods of
scented sandal trees,
where pairs of wood ducks
ecstatically mate, squeaking,
and at the end of **********
leisurely preen and groom,
near the pond, so tranquil,
its water, the clear hue of ultramarine,
lies a stone seat
where my true love,
used to sit, eyeing the path
thinking about my arrival.
Now, the pale sun reluctantly sets,
like a hopeless lover with
broken heart, returns.
The ducks had flown back,
long before. Alone, I sit here
not knowing why!
Jan 9, 2013
Jan 9, 2013 at 1:46 PM UTC
*His eyes rivet on the extravagant evening sun,
in frenzied creation, profusely mixing colors,
applying on the canvas of the horizon,
painting her, his lover with astonishing precision,
--portrait of a girl in love
unmindful of what the world thinks about her
and in total dedication to her man.
Love makes larger than life heroes out of weak mortals,
and creates echoes on the far horizons that keep on reverberating!
She sits quietly holding his hands as if it is all she needs
never thinking, it is obvious, whether this is a fallacy or ultimate truth,
that holds good for all the changing seasons.
With her long chiseled fingers she draws
something beautiful, a motif that emerged in her mind,
in front of them, the seascape, was a lively cyclorama
framed by bright ultramarine.
Like eels just out of water, their bodies gleaming,
bikini clad glam girls, beach soldiers spearheading
an undeclared beauty attack,
on the look out for hidden challenges
while walking past the love pair,
each one stands awhile, scrutinizing her thoroughly
measuring with a scale, hidden in those eyes,
as if she was a **** on parade, even women couldn't help covet.
Though inappropriately dressed, for the beachfront appearance,
she invites more attention, she is amused.
But after a tumultuous love, and eventful elopement
she is in bliss, in her love-land with her prince
she is just ecstatic, no thought could make her shake off her composure.*
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 2:15 AM UTC
*The rolling hills in meditation, stand still
under the ultramarine blue skies,
they brood over ocean depths
see visions of dolphins' dance and sword fishs' fight;
in a flash, the hills dive like a blue whale
in to the deeps of profoundly tranquil.
marvel, isn't it? not even a note uttered,
the symphony of cosmic music
spreads its waves, embrace
heaven and earth in one sweep,
motionlessly in a dance within.*
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 5:56 AM UTC
she wanted it to be the way she felt when painting
fearless messy vivid
instead of this faded photograph of a staged existence
and click click click she winds the film
dreaming cadmium red and deep cerulean
and the tightening of drying oils on her
fingertips arm lip pulling and biting at flesh like an old lover
wet sable slides across canvas
sweet turpentine and resin saturating the room
like the smell of sweat and *** lingering over some half forgotten affair
and back to the taut fabric again
in flashes of titanium white
the intensity of vermilion
slipping with animal instinct into rich umber and raw sienna
and a final stroke of ultramarine
click
Sep 26, 2010
Sep 26, 2010 at 12:27 PM UTC
They were more in love now
Than they had ever been before.
Lying in a small, yellow raft,
The sun lit them for 20 hours of the day.
Small fragments of floes drifted past;
With his pen-knife he carved
Ice flowers of them for her.
At night, the sky flushed ultramarine to match the water.
She would make a pillow of his shoulder
And they slept warm enough, blanketless.
They didn’t do much on their raft
Because there wasn’t much to do—
Around them, the sea was chill-blue
And they loved each mother more.
Months before, when they brought the cruise tickets,
It had been the clean aesthetic of the arctic
And the words ‘Secret Norway’ that won them over.
No, they didn’t want to uncover Norway’s secret;
They wanted to become a part of it, a final
“Great escape” into their dying years.
The cruise ship went under, they thought,
As if by choice into black-water oblivion.
A casual dive through the glassed-over surface.
A few inflated yellow rafts.
Of course, it was difficult for them, to look
On as that stranger’s blue hand stretched for their raft.
‘This is our great escape,’ they both were thinking.
Was it envy they felt when he let go?
It doesn’t matter. They, too, planned
To slip into that same murk at some point.
But for now, they would be in love.
He paddled them through the iceberg drifts and
They fell asleep at night, curled one next to the other,
To the measured sounds of melting glacial drip.
Aug 15, 2010
Aug 15, 2010 at 9:18 PM UTC
after the rain
tide out
the sea
a sliver of mauve silk
in the distance
sand pockmarked
with footprints
like paintbrush stipples
a mishmash of patterns
naked to the sky
all pastel hues blended
with a slippery finger
ultramarine
into a violet yawn
into a lavender blush
into an apricot kiss
the mellow slosh of water
chatter
sun setting
as a pinkish glimmer
slithers over the beach
Aug 26, 2016
Aug 26, 2016 at 10:34 AM UTC
Morning mist frames her face, the contrast, he couldn't miss
a wild flower fresh, bathed in dew drops, she becomes fulfillment.
A bee, as usual seeking honey,without being aware what awaits,
sleeps in her chamber,couched in her love the whole night,
he stole her heart, she whispers, he keeps it as the fragrance
and the pollen smeared all over his being vowing never to remove,
a love it is, in essence different from all that he has hitherto known,
as if in a dream, stealing her heart, he flies up to the ultramarine sky
all abuzz with love tunes , orchestration of nature, intoxicating,
his heart is full of light love fills, now this bee is even ready to die.
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 10:05 AM UTC
I'm thousands of miles above the ground,
and far below me, straight down,
umbrellas are blossoming open
and doors are closing
and those who can are staying inside,
to keep out of the thunderstorm
that I'm watching from up here.
(Lightning looks very different
when you're miles above it.)
And up here, where I am,
the sky is a brilliant hue—
I don't think I could describe it with
azure, or sapphire, or ultramarine—
it's really only describable
with moments.
The sky up here is a perfect day in summer
with your two best friends
and a lot of ice cream.
The sky up here is the day after it snows
and the blanket of white on the ground
is still untouched and sparkling
in the sunlight that's returned again.
The sky up here is letting go
of the thing weighing your heart down forever,
and watching it sail away on dandelion seeds
in the minutes right before
the sun blushes red and pink
and bends down to kiss the horizon.
And miles and miles below me,
the thunderstorm is going on.
So I wish I could tell all the people
who are running to get out of the cold rain
to stop, and to dance in it,
and to make the most of even times like this,
because directly above all the clouds
that are blocking their view of it right now,
the sky is still the most amazing
shade of cerulean ever to exist,
and it always is just as vibrant
wether their situation lets them see it or not.
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 11:55 AM UTC
Two ultramarine diamonds
Glazed like hailstones
Transfixing and adoring
With the courage of a thousand monarchs
Peering with an immortal persistence,
Like the twirling whitecaps of the sea
And how they never forget to kiss the coast goodbye
Petrifying all nerve endings
In every gap
And every adjacent membrane ofaxons
In every gland and cell
Recepting molecules of hunger and thirst
Set aflame by
Pummels of my infant and eager heart
Both silhouettes swaying in greed
Yearning, longing, speaking,
Pleading with a meek caress
For incessant spasms of arousal,
A stifled sob made of silk
Hushed by the storm of a lull
Sapphire globes fasten once again
A duet of mercy
Cupping cherub faces
Tracing trails of promise with settled fingertips
Down chilled spines
And frozen echoes
Tangled in a warmth never wielded
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 7:24 PM UTC
Life's colors exist in red, yellow, and blue, an unaffordable simplicity existing only on the gray wax paper taped to my pallet. My hands are sweaty underneath my gloves, slick with linseed and paint. Leaves fall and stick to the surface of artificial canvas smeared with the tracks of pigment on my brush.
There I dance, grass caressing my bare feet, hair guided by the gentle breath of wind. An improvisation of ultramarine and alizarin crimson and titanium white, time transcends, though the shadows move. In this moment, nothing else matters except for the performance of light, color, motion.
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 10:10 PM UTC
A heavy sea
So clear to see
A choppy crest and sky
And as they merge—
Right at the verge—
A longboat slides between
O how they crush
The seaman’s rush
Across the photograph
And now the paint
Falls soft and faint
In strokes—that shade of blue
The clouds are hushed
Beneath the brush—
The seas are hastened in
Horizons rise
Against the skies
And try to trickle up
Then halted shut
So mountains jut
And tread upon the waves
They harden now
Across the brow
Of ever sinking sea,
Sit darker than
The frozen span
That dries upon the page
Ultramarine
I’m sure, I’ve seen—
Dry now upon the page
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 9:03 PM UTC
Journey reclaimed, two souls
In summer haze. Beyond
Nightfall and blues, ballads of
Kindred youth. Yes,
You came with a melody
Touching my fantasy.
Ultramarine skies, beyond the
Blossoming night.
Again and again under this
Light and sight, we built the
Immortal memories of the
Nightfall with might.
All is said, all is done. Now
Loneliness haunts us, all is gone.
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 4:43 AM UTC
I am a vessel.
And in me,
an orange tomb.
Pocket sized.
Ultramarine.
I tip toe with fingers
tender & chewed.
Forty minutes.
I'm pink like a pill.
Dog-tired.
One minute.
I'm red as blood.
Restless.
Callow.
I was built to spill.
My teeth chatter & grind.
When will I see you again?
I sit on silver &
hang on your every word.
I think of you because my heart demands it.
Yesterday was euphoric.
Today was a blur
and what remained was you.
May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 3:22 AM UTC
*"The ocean is a desert
with its life underground
and a perfect disguise
above..." Dewey Bunnell*
On a horse with
no name I rode
bare-backed in
the purple sage...
***** Pipe cacti
played the melodies
of Mexico.
Swaying sea grasses
were skirts for the
range fences...
broken and rusty.
To be avoided,
my parents warned...
Tetanus... lock-jaw.
Other things to be
aware of...
don't swim too far
from the beach...
don't stay too long
in the sun...
I was happy at the
tide pools... aqua and
pristine. Sea slugs...
far from slug-like.
Flat and purplish
with frilly edges,
undulating dancers.
Picked up and dropped
over and over.
Baby octopi... an
entire tidepool
drenched in purple
ink in its desperate
bid for freedom...
Sea Urchins...
"Their spines can
**** my parents
warned. It was
fascinating how
they attached
themselves to
the rocks...
Almost as firmly
as the limpets...
We had
Hermit Crab races
Ate food disallowed
at home... swam
out to where water
was ultramarine...
jumped over the
barbed-wire...
with our arms
hugging
the
sun...
SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/21/2017
May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 5:39 AM UTC