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AUGUST Nov 2018
Sitting on the corner while Starring
At the glances of your smile all over
Cover the room by your face unveiling
Up to this moment, I want to be near,
(you were a mile from here)

Thinking It was cloudy on my mind,
But when you are here by my side
You are making my day as bright
Showing the beauty behind,
(They have nothing to hide,
nothing to hide.)

How deep is the ocean trenches?
How far is the stars throughout the abyss?
How much warm is your embraces?
How much cold Is your lips to kiss?

l don’t much care about counting all of these,
As long as you are with me, you are my bliss

(I could tell,) heaven’s gate is not the place of happiest
And angels are not those prettiest,
Indeed, God is always be the wisest,
For sending me a fallen angel, I’ve caught the brightest, the brightest

Lately, You stole what between these lungs
You open my chest, You let it pour, my bleeding heart
I cant deny, how i feel, you are my crush
I have been stunned on Your eye lashes, (glances, perfume scents, and blushes)

How deep is the ocean trenches?
How far is the stars throughout the abyss?
How much warm is your embraces?
How much cold Is your lips to kiss?

Do I have to care about all of that anymore,
As long as you are with me, what should I have to ask for?

Emerald, jade, diamond, gold and silver,
I guess nothing is forever, unless me and you
In this world of deception, anyone can be a liar
Just remember, Nothing is to fear, I am always here.
.......I am always here.
Honestly, I did not know what is sonnet and how to make one, but I did it unconsciously. It is true that poets have a universal language in terms of making thier poems.

This was Dedicated for Margaret
The wind wrestles with my hair
And fills my cheeks with pink.
The thickness of the day
Surrenders to the coolness of the night.
Fleeting hues of violet and yellow
Set my heart on fire:
A promise of warmth.
The world is still,
But the fire goes out and the shadows flood in
Unveiling the deepest depths of darkness
The stars scream out:
The sun will rise again,
The sun will rise again.
Ozioma Ogbaji Apr 2015
Today I feel light and free
As my hair is caressed by the breeze
Bright, beautiful, magical
Today has promised and will fulfil

Today, I rise in glory
Like a Phoenix reborn from ashes
Beautifully clothed in red satin sashes
Glorious like Pegasus on Mount Olympus

Today I rise, I soar in splendour
As the day keeps unveiling all her grandeur
Let the chains of yesterday break away!
Today is here, I will not cling to yesterday!
Shofi Ahmed Nov 2018
The hallowed turf is a six seasonal
always one step ahead on earth.
So exceptional a land is out of the box
acutely drawn down the Moon
and sublimely unique is written in stone!

A patch of land every star loves to touch
so much so the Mintaka know they can mirror
the pyramid on the surface of the earth
but not the tucked away zenana here
the planetary gem, the earth's gold dust!

Go with the southern breeze on play with the sun
here it colours the wind gives it its Midas touch
and strikes a deal to part a silhouetted cloud.  
That a beauty spot raises the eyebrows of the day on a high,
on the shining face of the golden Bengal in broad daylight!

If that scores blowing the wrap off a geometry in reserve
somewhere in Sylhet, meet the Hebrew king David here
he would offer his thousand and one melodic symposium
and King Solomon princely his whole affluent shebang.
'Cause the rolling down sun from heaven this time
hitting the ground could sparkle right on the palm
holding up the very cherry-picked handful of earth!

Oh, what's that? Keeping now and then the times in tune
the earthy depth's pearl or outburst of the enduring master art,
the jewel on the foundation stone from the root of the earth?
The golden ratio foot is so firm still is a wisp of cloud
hanging over the ocean of life what loses plops in it
smooths out a rainbow tantalizing every looking eye!

The ascended fairy is a stealer that no hand can touch
seven colours shine on a patch of blue null to touch
took on a meaning for Sylhet in a handful of earth.
It matches the soil of Makkah the centre of the earth
the birthplace of the prophet king Muhammad (PBUH)!
One who is in the know hops on the foundation stone
and rose to heaven in the Night of Ascension.

How is it done a regular soil mirror the very pivotal one?
The labyrinth is out of this world, relate to Queen Maab
let alone a native maestro that not a genie can describe!

Every atom loves to discover the meaning of that.
It knows the constant vibrations the never-ending dance
that keeps it on its toe the choreography hails from outside.
With most polished foot and motions is butterfly dance
can't move an inch away there is always a canvas
is blank beneath the foot yet to lay on it candlelight!

Light a candle in Sylhet I wonder is it the moonlight
spills through even down into an atom's black canvas
or lovely dropped down the sun on a handful of earth?

Meet here the open future shows up at the earth's
hub-moon's anew rallying to the untouching-sea
the Indian subcontinent's corner to the ancient wind!

Hark the morning birds follow singing deep in the midst
mellifluous-shrills fill the air unveiling the dream scenes!
Ah, the deep footed earth how mystique, every morning
the sun off the heaven's hill lays in a new diaphanous
gold-light-rug beneath it, but yet to paint a footprint,
the colourless magic let alone the centrepiece!

The times anew numerating the bounties of our land.
Craving to sip in a dew-potion on our blossoming rose
cirrus clouds dancing over the seven seas here they drop
Banish the midday blues singing the deep sea's song!

Nestled amidst the Rivers Surma, Kushiara and Monu
Perched on the shades of the trees, each one is a canvas.
Glows with changing Bangladesh's unique six seasons
as they swing and leap in the branches of the trees
and murmur with the upstream and the autumnal breeze.

Stunned angels on their way heaven taking one more sunset
potted in the starry bowl look back at the wee hours.
They can hear pianissimo on this preserved perennial land.
It never falls asleep is awake with a numerically perfect
circle of 360 spiritual dynamos from the centre they hailed
with a handful of earth and lived here as it matched.    

A deep-seated truth, rock-solid Shilahatta in Sanskrit.
Clothed in an enduring vesture minted Sylhet loops in
with the Hebrew Bible's Shalet, a ruler, a shield!  

A little drop makes the mighty ocean.
Like one single word on the lips
the maestros' great epics begin to be told.
Just with a mundane handful of earth
Primed Sylhet's masterpiece begins to unfold.
With the whole ball of wax keeping us onboard
lo, before the face of the earth, it unveils the mirror!
With the whole nine yards on her least hold
Believe it or not, Sylhet is cherry-picked chosen by God!
The subject matter is about a land possessing a deeply seeded truth. The prime significance of which is its scattered afar but matches the pivotal soil of the centre of the earth!
Pope Francis truly cares
welcomes, smiles, dares
      Angels Unawares!
susan Sep 2018
a breath of fresh air
that's what you are

so new
curious
fearless
pure of thought

unveiling love
with a tender touch
reaching
for me
           unafraid
brushing your cheek
ever
so
gently
across mine
making my heart melt
with your smile

i thought i knew love
then came you.
my granddaughter, my love, my son's child
i will protect and love you always
Lawren Jun 2013
A calm and cool breeze
Passes through the leaves of the trees,
Persuading the branches to sway,
Like algae in a turbulent sea.
Without a cloud in the pale blue Arizona sky,
The sun radiates down-- hot and glaring.
It reflects off the shiny paint of the cars around me,
Illuminates the brown mountains in the distance.
And magnified through the thick lenses of my glasses,
It blinds my sensitive eyes.
The surrounding sempiternal desert
Is so clear and sharp,
That no one nor nothing can hide
(With the exception of the beings who can blend,
And despite my tiring efforts,
I am not one of them.)
The nearest Creosote bush
Eminates of the smell of water,
As it passes through a hose.
I am instantly transported back home
Where sand is replaced by grass and plants
That require regular watering to survive.
When I close my eyes I can see
The illusion of a waterfall, created by the uncoiling hose
As it ejects tepid water for us to traverse.
But upon unveiling my windows,
I allow the sandy landscape to penetrate into my soul
And I am brought back to the present
Where life subsists, illogically,
Through a dearth of water, and inordinate sun.
shamamama Apr 28
One drop of Dragon's breath
Stirs sleeper from dreamtime,

She wakes from the womb of creation
Where shadows dance into form
And reflections live in the past

Bound from silken fibers,
This ancient changeling,
Slowly creeps from cocoon.

Perching on branch
Impulses of flight and
A longing for air and nector
Breathe life into capillaries
And Rivulets newly knit.

Unfurling shape in patient sunlight,
Wings born of a great sleep
Reach into the light,
Waiting for droplets of life
To pulse in her being
Unveiling an opportunity
To fledge.

Where does her life begin and end?
She lives like a drop of water in a cloud.
Changing form from river to ocean
Evaporating to rise and fall
As snowflake on frozen pond

Where does beginning begin?
She  perches on tree of life
As sap flows life into her veins
Like a tree she waits.

Once Caterpiller
Once in darkness
Now life as Milkweed angel.
Butterflies are a beautiful mystery to me.  My latest understanding is when they go through metamorphosis, they literally turn into liquid to reform.This has me in awe!
jane taylor Jun 2016
fly
born in illusory chains
gnarled metal
encrusted in my broken skin
the copper colored dust
of rusted steel
infectiously envelopes

shaving off antiquated layers
of fundamentalist religion
encrusted for generations
unpeeled until raw
an unsophisticated method
unveiling
ancient lodged glass shards
colored with deceit

brought before their court
interrogated
unfathomably skewered
an eerie salem witch trial
in modern times

barbarically they shun me
banished
i wander aimlessly
smelling the rotten decay of deceased community
as splinters pierce my feet
from the crooked wooden plank
i walk alone now

an unfathomable inner ache
kindled a residue within
igniting a wildfire from the darkest shadows
uncontainably erupting
i dance savagely
naked in the orange moonlight
and in every shaded edge
lit my soul ablaze

i am a nomad sheep
‘tho not one of their color
no pasture to contain me
no shepherd i can follow
theological safety nets
no longer there to catch me
bohemian-like
i plunge

free falling
plummeting
stripped wide open
magically
fearlessness
reverses gravitation

floating
untethered
i soar amongst
apricot tinged clouds
my skin still wet from rebirth
and rise with the flaming coral sun

you cannot destroy me
i twisted in your decrepit pencil sharpener
and with fresh mettle
cut through the chains that bound

you can have my ego
but you cannot have my soul

dismantling domestication
transcending limitation
wildly untamed
i fly

©2016janetaylor
my husband and i left the mormon church and lost many friends, family, and community
Wearing the crown of magnetic allurement ,
Sheathed , Sanguine , Egregious and Effulgent !
With a beguiling pace she coyly approaches in shades of shimmery reds , bowed with obliging politeness .
Gracefully walking into 'thy' life and grasping 'thy' strings of happiness.

She lives  in 'thy ' mind with enticing gravity ,  residing within 'thy' heart for eternity .

Unveiling her true self  shedding all dignity and peace , she renders her de bouch self as she now plays 'thy ' perfect host.
She titillates 'thy ' mind like a ghost !

Bewitched by the 'sorceress' ,
'Thy' life is succumbed to the tempest !
Alas !  
Now their is no escape for  she paved the way to desperation  .
Captivated by the "SUPERIOR  TEMPTATION" is 'thy hopeless mind swarming with aggresion and a helpless heart flanked with  apprehension, depression and destruction !
Such  my friend is the devastation of  the " TEMPTATION "
© Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar
Effulgent ,Egregious, Sanguine, Allurement ,debouch ,Sorceress..
Contemporary#Archaic# Shakespeare's language#Metaphor #Symbolism
Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
Tomorrow we have all
the good reasons to wake.
The earth’s column
down the sky will stay high!
  
The same old first light will break out,
unveiling once more the face of earth.
Log on now it’s present,
don’t let it vanish away!

Many a time rallies of clouds
shroud the blue sky.
There is no need for anyone
then just to turn away.

The stars too illume
the sky with dim lights.
Maybe the chaste moon
then comes out swimming low
in the orb of the night.
So the sun, too, for a while
goes off into the hide.
Only to show up soon and align
above the earth’s column.

Atop a blooming new dawn
with the rose facing the sun
aligning to it’s shining polished line
passes through the present time.
So don’t just let it slip away!
Sobbingsoul Jan 24
Your light
Penetrates me
Reaches my heart
Opening the petals
Of love
flowing through
My veins
Letting the darkness
Vanish
Unveiling me up
More and more
Opening
Heavenly door

©️Sobbingsoul
Murakami Jan 2
With my windows tenderly open,
the moonlight, a pale marble phantom I admire
The dark light rests beside me,
unveiling a vivid urban gleam

A jet black silhouette transpires
He whispers in the dark
Porcelain lies, radiant yet feeble.
His words achingly deceive
the lights that disdain me;
belittling my affectionate delusion

Pitch dark silence, I weep as I grieve
My tears filling in everlasting secrecy of
this tragical devotion blurring out the stars

You speak with a passionless passion
Yet my world doesn't fall apart-
It makes the whole universe perish.

That night, the stars seemed to blemish.
"My first rejection"
MissPine Nov 2018
by: MissPine

Confidante — that's what I am seeking.
Over a thousand tears are still falling.
Longing for what they called love.
Only time could tell how it is tough.
Rollercoaster rides of painful stuff.

Come to me, Oh Clementine!
Omniscient I may be, but I am just a teen.
Dry my eyes as well as this heart of mine.
Empty my mind from thoughts once hide.
Dream about love is just like a tide.

Confident I am in this journey called life.
Rushed imaginations end not be by knife.
Unveiling on what I always been aiming.
Stop for seconds, guess I'm still dreaming.
Hope this be the last game I'm playing.

Who is that confidante I am looking?
The 'Color-coded Crush' who I'm loving.
―Go Forth
Flourish in The Light
Of The
Estival Sol,
Elysium of the Soul,
Once you have vanquished
The Stygian,
Your Soul
Awaits You―


~I bid you
Immortal Heartsease
And
Armistice of Ataraxia:
The Reverberation of our Souls
In the Key of Elysium~.





I. Archean Prelude

The echoes
of your
Memories of
The Light & Airwaves
Pine to
Bloom in Reminiscence
Over the
Days of Yore.


II. The Echoes of Existentiality

We are all atomic particles;
Molecular Particles,
Of an aromatic
Omniscient,
Omnipotent,
Omnipresent Mist:
The Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love

―Echo forth comrades―

~Evanesce,
Into the Empyrean,
Etherealized Lightscape
Until the
Visage of Creation
Enskies us
To the exalted
El Dorado~



II. Tempus Fugit

The Promise
Of the
Morrow
Is nigh:

The Yesteryears
Wax
Distant Ages,
Wax
Archean Aeons;

(Eventuality of Existence)

Our Bygone Days
Of Lovelit, Loveless Life,
Antiquate and
Our Soulwaves
Wax
The Spirit of
The Ancient of Days.


III. Nova Cosmogony

Betwixt the Realms
Of the
Beneficent Matriarch Mirror,
Beyond
Terraqueous Gaia
Unfurls the Vista,
Your Fulgurant Dreamscape:

Only the Sapient of Sages
Doth denude:

The Incorporeal Incarnation
Of
Virtue, it’s vesture,
Na’phesh

The Decrepitude of Withering
Dovens the Divine
In the
Vestibule of Vanity,
Sanctimony & Superciliousness
Thence deliquesce;
Bearing womb of Light.

IV. Celestial Morphology

Unveiling the Substance
Of Space and Time;
Spirit and Soul;
Euphony, Harmony;
Atrophy, Intrepidity
All are Entity

Once
Pristine yet vacuous,
Flourishing into
Mystical and shimmering
Nothingness, gropes
For Meta-Astral ―form;

Ventus Divinitas,
The Cosmogonist’s Agenda
Resonates
Through the
Inchoative Universe.

V. The Temporal Hither:

Her Genesis
Waxeth
Vestal Vicissitudes:

She is
The Twilit Quiver
Uprising in
Darts of the Dawn,

Until
Arrows of Antemeridian
Light Cascade
Our epidermis
With the incendiary
Sovereignty of Sol.

Dusk:
Chars the Canvas
Of Ethereal Skies,
Garnetiferous,
Moonlit, Martyred Mind’s Sky;
The Eve’s Imperator
And
Inquisitive Spirit Eyes.

By Luminaries
We’re ensorcelled
Corpulent with thought.

~Wondering upon,
Vacuous a fathomed
Cosmogenesis. ~



VI. Tempus et Spatium:


~There are
Edicts unseen
The Esoteric of the Macrocosm

Only the
Transcendent of Tellurians
May tell of
The Life-Rending,
Sunder forth:

Semantics in Constellations;
Gaian Whispers of Sylvan Tale
The Arboreal Wisdom,
Musicality in Zephyrs ruffling Trees of Vale
Hearken unto further
The Winged-Symphonic Bees
(The Bombinating Orchestra)
Soul Untethered = [ Meta-Consciousness ^ Spiritus de Liberty]

Einstein’s General Relativity= [Spatium ^ Matter ↔ Energy ^ Motion]

~

(Time & Space
The height,
The width,
The depth,
And
The breadth)
The Empyrean One
Enshrined in Pantheon
Our Virginal, Vestal Souls
Efflorescent Eternity
In our hearts?
(Ecclesiastes 3:11)

Time is fickle
A
Hydrean Leviathan:

Whilst ye
Voyage her
Seven Seas,
Moor naught
In her
Elapsed chronology;
Her caprice
And ire
Shalt not
Be quelled.

Be roused
From
Somnus,
Unto her
Perpetuity of
Aqueous Abyssal, Dream Deep Sea;
Tenuous,
Diaphanous,
Rare,
Tender,
Instinctive,

∞ Her Moments ∞
∞ Extinguished ∞
∞ At Birth. ∞

∞ Eternally, ∞
∞ Reincarnated; ∞
∞Anew.∞

∞The Cosmic Spectrum∞
∞Is Infinite∞

∞Excelsior, Godspeed∞

∞ Elo’him ∞





VII. Ultima Thule:

We
Empyrean souls,
Doth abide
In
Pearlescent raiment.

The Cosmogenesis is our Dreamscape:
.
We are all a cosmos,
Expanding, contracting;
Ebbing, flowing;
Hitherto and thitherto;
Red-Shift and Blue-Shift.

Until the Mellifluous Morn,
Whence the
Zephyr of Life
Reverberates the Musicality
Of The
Arboreal Sages.

Terraqueous Gaia
Whispers
The Hope of the Ages.
Spirits betwixt
Greater Eden and She’ol.

Count the stars,
Enumerate every
Constellation in The Cosmos
Of your Soulscape scintillating
Upon thine Mind’s Sky.

Whence Luna and Sol
By the Wisdom
Of your starlight.
Are benighted, beseech
The Ancient of Days

For within The Supernal Wavelength
Of the Hallowed Dove.
We glean refuge
Our Aegis,
Providence.

Awaiting the
Golden, incendiary pinions
Of the
Revenant Phoenix to resurrect us.
Allow the Holy Spirit
to be your Polaris,
― to Elysium.

~By Agape’s Armistice:
Ascend,
The Peaks of Heartsease.
Commune with the Cosmos,
Wax
Salvera y Jiustizia
Brethren,
I plead.~”


~This Sacred Lotus seed
Was sown
Into the
Into the Soil of your Souls
, ―By the Astral.

You are a melody,
Sung by
A coloratura,
Burst into a
Tapestry of Fioritura:

Of Hope,
Faith,
And
Love



(May you
Reap
The Virtues of the Lord)

Betwixt

Na’phesh,
(The [Your] Living Soul)

&

Kos’Mos’
(The World)

The Apotheosis of the Astral Flame
Awaits
You
Starry-Eyed
Phantasmagoreans~
Celestial Morphology © is the multi-epistled poem which I sired during the Estival vicissitude. Twas an ineffable cadenza that exhales of the incorporeal essence of mine entity. I had been toiling in sweat, blood, and tears over a written project at the time; consequently, this is the thematic poem begotten.
     It transmutes the zeitgeist of my summer into the Golden Raiment of Polymathy. The oppressed coals of my woe erupted from the igneous core of my heart as these adamantine words. This starry soundscape is the astral crux of my work during 2018.
      I think that there was a vast expanse of my understanding of the world that had been repressed. It had almost been veiled from the heightened sight of my Over-Soul. This was in my sheltered, infantile longing to elude heartache. To keep the flesh- sundering maladies of the world outside my apartment walls: love, passion, iniquity, penitence, forgiveness, piety, cultural fission, intolerance, injustice, indignation, divinity, melody, mysticism, schism, mania, trepidation, faith, wisdom, darkness, and temporally transcendent pain.
          This was my transcribed anarchy against a Fascist Regime. A country exalting body that calls its denizens creationists whilst they slaughter every creation under the sun. The sociological edicts that dictate how art should be produced, the pace, that tell us not to speak of discrimination and mold us to turn a blind eye to the harsh realities of 21st-century postmodern society heavied the air. I just needed to vent and let every bit of internalized asperity or self-directed hatred out in a beautifying paradigm.
      I'm realizing more and more that life is tough and quite frankly, short. I'd rather write for an infinitude on one poem, for the sake of saving myself, rather than compromising my own integrity (and creative latitude). The writing was becoming a drag: less about quality, and more about quantity. Thus, after months of phantasmagorical drought, I bestow a glistening glade of sterling words.
I hope this poem reverberates upon thine soul waves. Please comment as I am open to any feedback; moreover, I beseech it of thee. My deepest gratitude comrades.

Excelsior Forevermore,

Sanders Maurice Foulke III
No crevice too small, no place too far off for the weeping

The weeping of those never sleeping to be heard.
For unto sleep, much is found that one should not dare

Because of the snare.

Death takes it toll in unprecedented means, life is found by the unveiling of the believed.

So, why weep, why lend a tear?

To gladness in fear, disbelief or simply reprieve.

Weeping, mourning and joy,

two give happiness, the other hope

So, carry on weeping as I someone has always heard.

Signature:
G.S.V.K.P. 12142017
While one is
Searching himself/herself
Some books
Will turned their way
Some songs
Will touched their chords
Some souls
Will changed their life
Some questions
Will taught a lession

But
When he/she will see
Inside
Your eyes

That very moment
Harmony vibes
Unveiling
Silence

Admitting
"I find myself"
"In you"
Genre: Observational
Theme: Questioning eyes || Answering souls
cozyjune Nov 2018
insatiable hunger
your lips pressed into my neck like a velvet secret
your hands dripping down my body
washing away the broken bones of the past
my back arches to the heavens
and i tear away the skin from your rugged back
unveiling blackened angel wings
wings weathered by far too many storms
as you water my forbidden garden
your eyes devouring every inch of my presence
finally lay into mine
draping my trembling body in a blanket
woven from acid sunsets and the fullest of moons
succeeding the surrealist of dreams
i lift a gentle hand to your mouth
and slip my finger past your ample bee-stung lips
you take me in as if my fingers are oozing honey
as your love oozes inside of my pulsating lotus
the petals spill from inside of me
waltzing atop my lust soaked thighs

these thoughts they drown me in star-less nights
writhing to keep my head above water
just so i can once more
perish in loves arms
and be reborn into your eternal light
Mark Feb 4
Unhappy smiles, you wear that I'm deceived
Remember tho' your hearted grins before
When summer days did match that I received.
Forget? Think not, your early teeth that wore
Unveiling full from once your lively lips.
Your muscles tensed of late, with speech as less
And when recite, you read from ready tips
You wrote when love had none to give you stress.
So I shall leave you to this sadly tune
But when your pain can sing, let ring my ear
And know; that song of grief, i'm not immune
Let yours atone with mine, that cupids hear.

Tho' tried, your veil can't hide that love, depressed
When out unburdens those, I'll gift you rest.
Oh hollow Thirst!  

How it drowns out life's liquid scenes,

All treacherous memory now

It dries the tongue;

          When recollection swims with dire aches

          In the stomach lingering

Deserts  

          once oasis-providence:

the ease of us

sifting with the sand

Minutes limpid between caress.

Creation our chalice overflows

Quenching and in each other

Love for water

As the hours go touching vastnesses

To open us / one heavenly sky :

Illuminating you

Both assuage and succor...

But I am drought and man

          Flesh heavy / crawling through

         War's searing hills

         Chafed of what made me fearless . . .

         Once a Traveler discarding haste,

Still Thirsts for those palm trees’ shading moments

Still-pictures of bodies we felt

Still continuously feeling.


It is as though an affliction’s game

To wait

Between search and weaning

No swift elixir

I am just a bare tree leaning.

(praying for love's rain...)


This Thirst is deeper than remembering

The drink that once was Us.


.  .  .  .




Halcyon,

I’m bathing in your adoration,

Nothing so sinful, or minuscule, as to need

Redemptive rinses of the spirit

When we were

As what we only knew how to be,

Ourselves yet together sharing feasts...


Which we lay out for each other

Ceremonious only through the unveiling,

Knowing how to trust in this (which is between us).


Oh How to feed that old hunger, I longed for you,

Love soft mornings dew on skin,

Like when we had the outdoors with our mischief, bodies

Attentive as the grass when we look within…


Those bright eyes that pierce me deeper now

Understanding / how my breath always quivers

With the slight tips of your tender fingers.

Wish makes the body famished and weakened,

Needing

The food from in between kiss and spark

Lovely of smiles that shares heaven’s glee,

In each other’s sensations, feeling the answer

Rather than being told to eat…


The Reveries of wines tasted, the lifting of all things

To a memory, yet not having the full course

Of dining with serenity, finding that destiny

Has yet to begin

When love was the race I was questioning,

Kindnesses were supposedly human,

While dreams came true with happy endings..?


Hunger can make the world seem cruel

When we give up on searching for meaning,

We ourselves make

The feast of All meals

with our believing …
Revised repost
Donall Dempsey Oct 2018
DA VINCI'S GHOST

( for my little brother Brian )

I listen to
classical guitar in the dark

with only a single
candle for company.

These my teenage years.

Music and flame
travel through my mind

unveiling thought.

Da Vinci's
Vitruvian man

pinned to the wall
with most pins missing.

He comes alive
in the candle's flicker.

Gets into a flap
each time the door opens.

Little brother is spooked
by that Vitruvian stare

but is fascinated by the fact
that he exists

within a circle
within a square.

Like a priest I
dress my self in the garb

of Leonardo's words.

"Write what the soul is.

Illustrate whence comes....madness.
Whence...tears.
Whence...dreams!"

The whences make him wince.

As he sees it:  "...it is like a man
travelling through time

in his dream machine
and arriving at his own

dying
becoming his own

ghost."

Our mother's voice
calls him

and he is grateful to escape
his own thought.

*

Now, here I am
at your death

as you step inside
the circle
(inside the square).

You stare back at me
with that Vitruvian stare

and I " try to write
what the soul is."
Desire Jun 18
Wow! This. So. Unveiling.

Up, Speak. Truth. Wins.

Wins Truth. Speak Up.

Unveiling So This - Wow!

When They See Us

now ... | ... won!

@desire.is.dope
20190618
0423HRS
WATCH "When They See Us" now on Netflix

When They See Us
@desire.is.dope
20190618
0423HRS
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