"wakens" poems
You should smile more.
It creates a rippling effect greater than that dark waves of your hair.
Your voice puts me in a monotonous trance.
It wakens up my soul yet could put me in a lucid dream.
That colorful sleeve on your arm reveals your true beauty
Although I cannot decipher it.
It has a way of speaking to me;
Who you are.
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 11:16 PM UTC
that familiar look in your eyes
that wakens my passion
in watching your pupils grow-
dilating into
the shape of my world
in your eyes i hide
in your shadow i find comfort
untouched by a warmth
that blends with your soul
i am weakend
by those big brown eyes
the ones that
could show me
all there is to feel &
i don't ever want to live
to see them shed a tear
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 7:54 PM UTC
There came an image in Life’s retinue
That had Love’s wings and bore his gonfalon:
Fair was the web, and nobly wrought thereon,
O soul-sequestered face, thy form and hue!
Bewildering sounds, such as Spring wakens to,
Shook in its folds; and through my heart its power
Sped trackless as the immemorable hour
When birth’s dark portal groaned and all was new.
But a veiled woman followed, and she caught
The banner round its staff, to furl and cling,—
Then plucked a feather from the bearer’s wing,
And held it to his lips that stirred it not,
And said to me, ‘Behold, there is no breath:
I and this Love are one, and I am Death.’
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Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:
The fire-fly wakens: waken thou with me.
Now droops the milk-white peacock like a ghost,
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.
Now lies the earth all Danae to the stars,
And all thy heart lies open unto me.
Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.
Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips into the ***** of the lake:
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
Into my ***** and be lost in me.
3k
The time draws near the birth of Christ;
The moon is hid, the night is still;
A single church below the hill
Is pealing, folded in the mist.
A single peal of bells below,
That wakens at this hour of rest
A single murmur in the breast,
That these are not the bells I know.
Like strangers' voices here they sound,
In lands where not a memory strays,
Nor landmark breathes of other days,
But all is new unhallow'd ground.
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He seeks truth in places of no good.
He flies high in places where others stood
Still he cries tears of perpetual sense.
A chameleon
his outer vesture cloaks his identity.
Unyielding
He plants his foot in the dirt.
Tangled vines tie his toes
contrasting his poetic prose.
Left dangling in the temptress spider lily's web
the noose tightens
as the old boy sings.
A fist with two thumbs
he raises like a martian.
Strangers illegibly write him
off.
A Jekyllish laugh
empties the mucus from his lungs.
Eons of inhaling senseless knowledge
he finds a second breathe to speak.
Words slice the web of lies
spinning silk into impenetrable pride.
Raw and uncut
his diction polishes diamonds
before were only rust.
He wakens every morning
Anew defiant face.
Contradicting himself
a joke
he cackles everyday.
The children who say he's changed
are correct.
But the chameleon found his true colors
somewhere between the lines
of white and black.
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 11:43 AM UTC
A One sided women
She walks, stands, and waits to see the radiation that captivates her heart which skips a beat every time.
As she wanders all she can do is look over what see desires but cannot have.
'The lust of the warmth around her arms and waist is just a dream.
Only the temporary sights and glances that passes her without a doubt captures the butterflies that flies around her stomach and mind.
Trying her best not to notice but every where she goes, when she closes her eyes all she sees is what was meant to be.
A visionary photo graph of what would be the sweetest future and wish she gravitates to have and to hold.
Isolated Nights longing for the touch and tastes of bitter sweet dreams.
For only two lungful arms to wrap around tightly as she sleeps soundly and shamelessly.
But only a mist of reality, bursting into a light that wakens her.
It had got to the over whelming point that boils her fearing heart of compassion that lies within her confusion of collapsing blocks that trembled to her feet.
Blushing flesh covered to hide her mask of longing affection.
She waits and waits until the dreadful days of days come quickly in her distance gasps of time.
Knowingly it comes to the end and what all seems to be hopeless she finds what gives her the ability to withstand her days of living this reality of a place that humans call a world to live onto.
A beauty undiscovered by others but only she notices such a treasure that is not worth all the money or air in the whole universe.
Her 2nd life.
As said before only she sees it. A one sided forbidden desire that only notices as an equal to humans.
What exactly is it that she sees so much depth of unrequited lust to go forth on such a useless task.
Blinding as it may seem it’s all she cares to fall or to stand up to her it’s worth the extra steps and painful regrets that takes her place.
Even the opposing forces of beings may disagree but are there really any wrong answers?
Just the thought counts and care that lingers away to words and quotes.
Tell me, will this be another mistake?
Dec 26, 2011
Dec 26, 2011 at 1:00 AM UTC
1.
I know now why the world was sad,
With so much good to make it glad;
Why all things loveliest and best
Have stirred vague sorrows in my breast,
And sweetest days that life has had
Have vexed me with such vast unrest.
2.
I know why I have pined and toiled,
And found all aspirations foiled;
I know why I have gained and spent,
And never learned what riches meant;
I know what lack and loss have spoiled
The treasure of my soul's content.
3.
Like day- dawn on the darkened earth,
Like sun and rain in drought and dearth,
Like spring, that wakens flowers so fast
When barren winter- time is past,
Love, long- deferred, has come to birth —
And I am satisfied at last.
4.
My heart is singing; tears are shed;
I, that was starved, am warmed, and fed —
For love is fire and food and wine,
All comfort earthly and divine.
Now I am living that was dead,
And all that life can give is mine.
2.3k
Flame burn bright when we are bornèd
every laugh and tear we shed
Flame burn bright when brother wakens
under broken tire tread
Flame burn bright when kissed the first time
soft warm eyelash on the nose
Flame burn bright in late night slumber
wrapped in arms, a sweet repose
Flame burn bright when we grow older
Flame burn bright when young and crazy
Flame burn bright in stars at night
Flame burn bright, soft and hazy
and when the evening comes at last
to the only cold we'll ever know
Flame goes out.
but- while the drunken stupor lasts,
while we're living, wild and fast,
Flame burn bright.
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 8:36 PM UTC
(On the death of a daughter)
The death I must pronounce upon
For you, parents, the wait was long
Across this land unjustly tried
Your silence only proof you lied.
In pitch darkness, dragged overland
By Dingo jaws and human hand
Guilty and gaoled, she would have read
In her sixth year, were she not dead
Just six weeks, never spoke a word
Now flies the night, free as a bird
Over deserts ochre and red
On Uluru she rests her head
Wakens and plays in sunlight stark
Darts in rock shadows, cool and dark
In Rainbow Spirit surely trust
She lies lightly in sand and dust.
© M.L.Emmett
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 4:56 AM UTC
It is for no ill will, no caprice on the part of fire, but for love. Man wakens fire from sleep, feeds her, cares for her, and keeps her alive. And so she smiles on him with friendly light, warms him, whispers to him mysterious songs, and drives away all that would sting, bite, harass, or harm. For as man loves fire, so fire loves man and delights in his company, all the more in wild and lonely places.
Jul 3, 2019
Jul 3, 2019 at 10:38 AM UTC
Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:
The fire-fly wakens: waken thou with me.
Now droops the milkwhite peacock like a ghost,
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.
Now lies the Earth all Danae to the stars,
And all thy heart lies open unto me.
Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.
Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips into the ***** of the lake:
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
Into my ***** and be lost in me.
1.7k
When the sun comes rising up
On a brand new day
When shooting stars score the sky
And quickly fade away
When lark ascends in the fields
Flying high and free
When robin sings his little song...
Spare a thought for me
When the oak in springtime rain
Wakens from the dead
When the sun behind the wood
Glows a winter red
When starlings race and fall to roost
Then chatter in the cover
Think of me even if...
Your hand is in another
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 8:37 AM UTC
142
Whose are the little beds, I asked
Which in the valleys lie?
Some shook their heads, and others smiled—
And no one made reply.
Perhaps they did not hear, I said,
I will inquire again—
Whose are the beds—the tiny beds
So thick upon the plain?
’Tis Daisy, in the shortest—
A little further on—
Nearest the door—to wake the Ist—
Little Leontoden.
’Tis Iris, Sir, and Aster—
Anemone, and Bell—
Bartsia, in the blanket red—
And chubby Daffodil.
Meanwhile, at many cradles
Her busy foot she plied—
Humming the quaintest lullaby
That ever rocked a child.
Hush! Epigea wakens!
The Crocus stirs her lids—
Rhodora’s cheek is crimson,
She’s dreaming of the woods!
Then turning from them reverent—
Their bedtime ’tis, she said—
The Bumble bees will wake them
When April woods are red.
1.6k
*We live now
In visual times
Our helpers are
Those graphic aids:
Top to bottom
Right to left
In to out..
Part in whole
Whole in part
Holograph assists
Wholeness found..
Symmetry here
Alerts to show
Symmetry there..
These and more
Simple translations
Inner Eye wakens..
So that now
Deception removed
Our world renews
Its hidden beauty
Dis-clothed…*
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 8:14 PM UTC
We walk through a desert:
Bone dry and sterile,
For mile after mile.
Trudging endlessly
Through emptiness.
But then we see it!
A tiny stalk
Forcing through the claggy sand.
Life!
Nature so determined
To break through
Anything.
Giving us Hope
Of better things.
And sure enough: we find there’s more and more
Until we are surrounded
By lush green trees.
Spring is just like this.
Hardy plants pushing through the soil.
Tight buds that slowly open
As Mother Nature wakens
From her icy slumbers.
Hope gives way to warmth
As Winter is banished
At last
For another year.
Spring is such a time of promise.
Looking forward to summer days,
Lounging in the sun.
We enjoy our Easter eggs
In the knowledge
That Whitsuntide is coming,
And then the “Summer Hols”.
It’s time to smile.
Paul Butters
© PB 7\4\2018.
Apr 7, 2018
Apr 7, 2018 at 5:53 AM UTC
Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:
The firefly wakens: waken thou with me.
Now droops the milk-white peacock like a ghost,
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.
Now lies the Earth all Danae to the stars,
And all thy heart lies open unto me.
Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.
Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips into the ***** of the lake:
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
Into my ***** and be lost in me.
1.5k
Morning yawns and stretches across aged mountains.
It rolls over, pulling its blanket of mist over their shoulders
and wearily, yet steadily, opens it eyes.
It sighs with a breath that trembles the leaves on oaks and birches
and whispers its way through the countless needles of pines.
It wakens the birds who give song to its breath and announce the new day
to weary hikers, canoeists, climbers and shoppers
still nestled in their beds
still weary from yesterday's
adventures.
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 7:02 AM UTC
This is the third time
I've planted climbing roses
The first two failed to fulfill
my romantic fantasy of
efflorescent roses
flaunting their naughty
frilly pink bodice
and hooped skirts
draped in loops
like gingerbread scroll-work
or fleur-de-lis
gamboling, sauntering
across the white French trellis
I guess I'm really a fairy trapped
inside this 5' 8" terrestrial body
I love how the amethyst moon-flowers
with the pentagram tattooed on their
belly button petals
cast a magic spell over the garden
And the night blooming jasmine's
enchanting fragrance wakens the
dreaming gardenia and makes everybody
including our blue eyed ragdoll kitten
a wee bit tipsy
I curl up on my midnight Jhoola
topiary shadows crouch
like royal sphinxes
in the starlit courtyard
and reflecting pools of water
from summer rains
swirl open their third eyes
~portals to another world~
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
When daybreak gilds the sky with rose
She wakens, her glad heart afire
Yearning in poems dreams to disclose.
Sighing she lays such dreams away
To give housecats their morning food,
Hoping to write another day.
And though the morning brief may be,
She helps her children with homeschool
Bridging lives for eternity.
Three miles trudging to stay all noon
Helping a crippled neighbor friend,
Then sighs to see the day die soon.
Homeward she steals 'neath setting rays.
On battered Steinway plays a hymn
Blending with softly gloaming dim.
She feeds the frightened strays so thin
Shiv'ring in blustering wind and cold,
Doleful as night comes howling in.
The clock strikes two, she falls asleep
Too weary to pen dying dreams,
Trusts someday glad harvest to reap.
~Hilda~
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 1:24 PM UTC
with a soft touch and a blushing smile,
vibrant green creeps into the landscape.
the longsuffering trees,
whose limbs have long been heavy with snow,
finally stretch their arms into the warm air
as suggestive buds speckle their gnarled fingers.
the clouds swell with life, and the sun
glows stronger than ever before.
as their spidery roots drink voraciously
from the moist dirt, smirking daisies and
blooming tulips unfurl their alluring petals
and bask in the glorious yellow light.
the firm, unyielding ground is teeming
and bustling with a myriad of fauna,
unsteadily rubbing the remnants of slumber
from their bleary, squinting eyes.
the flat, chilly silence of winter
has been quelled by the lilting robin’s song.
and as the very earth herself wakens
from this melancholy hibernation,
i let go, and float down that euphoric wave called life.
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 3:12 AM UTC
Our peaceful night sleeps soundly in a mesh of magic arrows
Awakens, looking into the seeking eyes of mankind
Feeling their great joy and bitter sadness flow
Into each breath
In kind
A delightful journey gleaming softly within a minute’s pause
Calmness laughing, lost inside a rolling tear
A gateway bursting with applause
Our peaceful night
Can sense
Our spirits here
Emblems alight and lie mirrored within the wakened night
Glory crowns the essence of our coming day
An outpouring of our feelings light
Night’s magic arrows
On their way
Mankind gazes in wonder at the splendor high above
Night wakens reaching out for their hands
Filling each soul with arrows of love
With each breath he breathes
And commands
Nov 1, 2010
Nov 1, 2010 at 8:30 AM UTC
As a dark flash,
a mere flicker in my mind's eye
does she come to me.
Her breath,
light as a spirit's passing,
is cold as death
as her lips brush mine.
And I draw in that sweet breath
feeling its chill course through me
tantalising my senses.
Her hand lightly brushes my cheek;
a gentle caress that wakens my
deepest needs.
I reach up to enfold her in my arms
as though seeking to embrace the wind
and, wraith-like, does she melt into me
inside my mind and body all.
And our passion is all consuming,
her desire and mine,
as we journey beyond this world
to the ethereal plane.
Now nothing more tangible
than a wisp of cloud
that crosses the moon
and reaches out to the stars.
I hold her in that eternity
where time has ceased its onward path,
her hand in mine, fingers entwined,
the moonlight warming us.
And then in a heartbeat she is gone.
I look about
and glimpse a single black feather
dancing on the wind.
Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 6:54 AM UTC
Grapefruit tree blooms lush
Its proud fragrance dominates
Stirs senses...in white...
Redolence wakens.....
Mind and nostrils, side by side
Inspire and create...
'neath Sunday's twilight
Branches mate....shadows connect,
Entwine....entangle.....
Curved silhouettes form
An arabesque....of shapes
And my own dance steps...
Night impregnates mind,
Scents, trees, starry nights..are turned
To runes..........some, with tunes.
................................
(A cluster of haikus)
Sally
Copyright April 2, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 11:37 PM UTC