"vividity" poems
the languid liquidity of linseed-eased pigment
as the bow of brush stroke sweeps a new hue
over the layer of vermilion,
this feel of silken resistance,
this quality of vividity,
this aroma that countless painters encounter
whilst abstracting sunflower or sunset
is what gives pleasure to my paint.
Mar 28, 2010
Mar 28, 2010 at 3:20 AM UTC
So this is how the dreamer dies,
like awakening---
a vague and fading
recollection of the yesteryears and
the sleep sinks around the backside of the eyes
where it haunts the mind in
mirror images.
The vividity of living fades to grey and
all is calm, all is
monochromatic.
And so the dreamer dies, like falling back asleep.
Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 12:33 PM UTC
Unable to breathe
My heart, in a state of panic
My soul, half joy/ half pain
With the darkness a true void
And the light, divine
So twisted in two
That breaking is imminent
Which survives
Darkness...
Or
Divinity
For to live as two
Is not living
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 5:56 AM UTC
Clouded thoughts of you incript my mind
and my hands grasp my chest as I seem to have lost the ability to breathe somewhere along the winding road where on every corner you sold me lies. I thought the innocence you portrayed was liable to your soul but I was hypnotized by the way your eyes wandered my body and the color in them stole the vividity of my creative mind so now as I sit and try to combine words that will never fully portray the sense of wonder you left me with every time you failed to reply to my missed calls and texts I question whether you genuinely loved me or loved the idea of my body against yours in the moonlight.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 10:27 PM UTC
"See you soon."
He says
Two set of knuckles
Leading me blind
I bellow it out
alike
a forge,
out temple..
Pftffffffffffffffffffff
Coy,
Sunlight fades
as I begin
to steep
in the shade
Blackness,
like mist,
nearly pixelating
my daze
I'm blind,
I'm falling,
I've died,
Still,
same place
A tickle
of color
splashed trickle
in space
Playing
in front of
my eyes with
no face
This sprite
is electric
This Nymph holds
my gaze
To and fro
this vividity
does go
spinning and
swirling
Oh, what
a show
And then it
creates such
colossals
of glow
The colors
so vibrant,
with some I
don't know
This bright
neon orchestra
might be,..
Symphony.
Diamonds.
With eyes,
so alien,
akin flys,
I see
A figure,
no face,
pirouettes,
my treat
A sapphire balet,
next, a green man
whose stare
seldom left me
but (he) did sit, and
not stand
Entrapment
ensues, as I
couldn't choose
in-between, said,
sat man,
or falling
for blues
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 9:07 PM UTC
So, I hurt you
The one I held closest to my heart
The one I promised my sobriety of spirit
But not of mind
Because vividity and lucidity stem together where foundations depart
and that's what I want us to have.
A relationship defined by deference, sustained between lucid and vivid.
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 12:55 PM UTC
I often found myself in a life sinced passed
as though of smoke under a dark bridge.
I word in a shout or a whisper would float about
in shallow currents or deep below that stolid solid surface
of ice or concrete sent screaming in a simple step.
But to overwhelm such a life since passed
with the simplicity of a slamming door
or perhaps to view through a telescope;
those fine details from the vividity of a bedroom window
on a clear night would send shivers down my spine.
Had I stood idly by in a spellbound daze
as the light passed by with a swift spin and flourish
and faded to a pitch black before my eye,
perhaps then would I have understood
the importance of that touch before loss.
Or maybe had I sprinted silently
through the sauntering street
with my arms outstretched
to catch nothing but empty
air, it only seemed appropriate.
Only then would
I fall to the floor
and sleep it
all away, at least
for a short time.
But then
again, how
would I
have survived
the night?
Only
in
my
past
life.
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 11:01 PM UTC
so it's not that you can't breathe
because you can
it's just that the surrounding air doesn't work anymore
doesn't send you reeling from the sensation of being alive
doesn't fill you, doesn't clear your head
so you can breathe, you just don't
because it doesn't seem to make much of a difference
your lungs filling with useless stuff that almost makes you even more light-headed
the sound around you is muted, near-silent through the pounding of blood through your ears, your veins, slowing, stopping, speeding, and then slowing again.
light crawling toward you
as though streaming through water to reach your immobile body
you can see it shifting, moving, waving in front of you, and it doesn't help that your pulse is gone, searing your eyes and throat with the awful vividity of it all
it doesn't take long for it to overwhelm you
light too bright against your eyes that can't focus
sounds too loud and thick against your skull
blood pounding and not pounding in a quick succession that makes you question the veracity of what you can hear
it doesn't take long to overwhelm you
you, the stranger in unfamiliar coffee shops days in a row
the stranger switching from hospital to hospital
hotel to hotel
you, the stranger, sitting rigid in the comfortable train seats, leaving one town, and approaching another so similar
that you have lost the ability to tell the difference
it doesn't take long to overwhelm you, but when it does, everything slows to a deafening stop
dragging out the infinity and making you wait
you've always hated waiting.
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 1:04 PM UTC
You reminded me of gold,
Rarity over the norm,
Ancient desolation means
The people are torn.
You're eyes like ruby's,
Blood and greed.
Red is promising,
To the grave they lead
Pathos and sapphire,
Vividity of the blues
Wealth only lifts you up,
When its tieing the noose.
Dec 12, 2020
Dec 12, 2020 at 8:41 PM UTC
Music and Art ,
Bring happiness to the heart.
Setting the mind to kindle on a personal flow chart.
It gives a deep sense of satisfaction , to see a beautiful creation .
Soothing melodies and creative work , gives the mind a positive **** .
L'il piece of advice to all !
Manouvre the mind to see the world as Almighty's artistic display and listen to music everyday .
Music is Divinity ,
Art is Imagination in Vividity,
Conjuring Peace till Infinity.
Apr 26, 2019
Apr 26, 2019 at 10:51 AM UTC
Only the other day the vividity was insane
The world my eyes see was smelting/melting
& the world my I's see was smelting/melting
But just then, as I found my centre
The Fantasia of old would hardly enter
It was enough of the stuff & much more than most men
Yet a part of me wants back to that fantastical Zen
Jan 16, 2025
Jan 16, 2025 at 9:13 AM UTC
Picturesque Edinburgh symbolizes Scottish regal splendor,
Which can be seen in buildings that are truly rich in decor,
The solid architectural structures are such a visual marvel,
Replete with history when one tries to unravel
Mary, Queen of Scots is a name we remember from school history,
The palace where she was born speaks of tales that remain a sad mystery,
That she was ordained to be the Queen as soon as she was born, was destiny,
It was her mother's foresight and Providence that enabled her to survive the mutiny
The palace rooms and items therein portray her tragic life,
Their vividity saddens the visitor when seeing how full it was of strife,
The room in which she was kept in isolation by her better half,
Spoke volumes of the agony she endured at the hands of her bitter half
The Royal Castle has a whole history behind its walls,
The gusty Scottish winds in no way diminishes visitors' footfalls,
The audio tour reveals fascinating stories little heard of elsewhere,
Which we would never come to know if we had not been there
The prisoners-of-war cells and isolation wards that are centuries old,
Depict in great detail the meted treatment which was a sight to behold,
One cannot but wonder at the related stories of medieval times,
The mannerisms of people of warring nations, that was less than sublime
The difference in Scottish and English (London) accents is quite striking,
One needs to listen closely without too much jaw breaking,
Where the former is more subtle and measured and in consonance with word spelling,
The drawl and crunching emphasis of words in the latter is more telling
While walking through Princess Street Garden at leisure,
Taking in the floral beauty is such a pleasure,
The spectacular view of the castle atop the hill,
Screams for a photo shoot of your own free will
The Waverly Bridge junction is a busy thoroughfare all day,
As automobiles ply by and pedestrians wend their way,
The hustle and bustle is not too over the top,
As people seemingly find time to stop and shop
As a nation the Scots can be justifiably proud,
By nature they seem modest without being too loud,
Their common bond with the English is that they share the same Queen,
Their rivalry otherwise is perhaps latent and needs to be seen
Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 8:26 PM UTC
Today I saw a photograph
I've never seen before
It was too much for me to bear,
But left me wanting more
It was like heaven, here on land
Though flaming like a fire
Like child and mother, hand in hand
More reckless than desire
A sunrise o'er a field of blooms
Too vast to know what kind
Sky making clouds like billowed tombs
Cold, damp walls, colored sky behind
With just enough light to capture
The prime of each vividity
With just enough sight to rapture
It's Creator's dense divinity
Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 3:55 AM UTC
Have you ever been so hopelessly
Lost in a moment
Intranced by something so far gone it seems to detach from you
And wander like it has its own mind.
Echoing the stachato of feet so far down the stairs that the way back looks like a tunnel
Of never ending shapes
So distinteresting from the vividity
That is the present thought
That you dream that you did not have to wake to the reality of the now
Like a kid looking through a window on Christmas eve all that bottled happiness lays behind the wall of the mind.
I often find myself window shopping down that hall
Hoping for a taste of what was
Aching to catch her before she gets to far away.
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 6:58 PM UTC