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"waterlilies" poems
I still dream you hold my hand as we walk across the pond. but its surface was clean and unharmed by filth. Your lungs were never deflated and you would breathe so graciously. I waited so long, my hair has grown & your emerald eyes had a lust for life. I wish I could conjure your spirit when they say how much they see you in me. But I'm left empty in the midst of all they could never see, I've grown up, but I'm never free of the child you held in your arms. I don't want to spend my life being haunted by a woman that never fought her own ghosts. Cancer is not a demon, it is an illness and the zodiac you were born as should be the only thing to touch you. But still those weakened cells took your body as their host. Now I mourn you in the reflection of ponds and wait for waterlilies to bloom in the place of your face. now I wait for your soft hands to hold me in your lap and place a soft kiss on my forehead. And when I think of my mother; her poise and grace, dresses of lace. My desire for our souls to meet once more, or to see your face in front of pearly gates. —V.H.
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Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 10:41 PM UTC
Waterlily
i. impressionist, where the grey clouds and the blue ice of winter gather their ghosts, winter, too cold, too white, the woodland hollows dent, summer love discarded in the frost, the sky oaken, the moon’s forget-me-knots silvery dream. ii. clouds like wintery steel, sunken, in a night pool, the golds of my heart, the lodestar gathers moss and rook, glimmers in a sky of woven cloth, her leaves, the trees of winter, her leaves, the dark breath of the storm. iii. winter and quiet stars brooding emperor sleeping in the twilight hour, winter dreams of strange ice caverns where ice ghosts dance with twisting hair. iv. pond of ice, snow bear, snow dream, sleep unwraps wide avenues of trees, sleep, the dark girl, the falling tide. v. twig breaks under foot, earth’s thrones settle in the lizardy light the moon rises in the sky, soft centuries of sky.
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Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 1:57 PM UTC
monet's waterlilies revisited
How is it that I am now so softly awakened, My leaves shaken down with music?-- Darling, I love you. It is not your mouth, for I have known mouths before,-- Though your mouth is more alive than roses, Roses singing softly To green leaves after rain. It is not your eyes, for I have dived often in eyes,-- Though your eyes, even in the yellow glare of footlights, Are windows into eternal dusk. Nor is it the live white flashing of your feet, Nor your gay hands, catching at motes in the spotlight; Nor the abrupt thick music of your laughter, When, against the hideous backdrop, With all its crudities brilliantly lighted, Suddenly you catch sight of your alarming shadow, Whirling and contracting. How is it, then, that I am so keenly aware, So sensitive to the surges of the wind, or the light, Heaving silently under blue seas of air?-- Darling, I love you, I am immersed in you. It is not the unraveled night-time of your hair,-- Though I grow drunk when you press it upon my face: And though when you gloss its length with a golden brush I am strings that tremble under a bow. It was that night I saw you dancing, The whirl and impalpable float of your garment, Your throat lifted, your face aglow (Like waterlilies in moonlight were your knees). It was that night I heard you singing In the green-room after your dance was over, Faint and uneven through the thickness of walls. (How shall I come to you through the dullness of walls, Thrusting aside the hands of bitter opinion?) It was that afternoon, early in June, When, tired with a sleepless night, and my act performed, Feeling as stale as streets, We met under dropping boughs, and you smiled to me: And we sat by a watery surface of clouds and sky. I hear only the susurration of intimate leaves; The stealthy gliding of branches upon slow air. I see only the point of your chin in sunlight; And the sinister blue of sunlight on your hair. The sunlight settles downward upon us in silence. Now we ****** up through grass blades and encounter, Pushing white hands amid the green. Your face flowers whitely among cold leaves. Soil clings to you, bark falls from you, You rouse and stretch upward, exhaling earth, inhaling sky, I touch you, and we drift off together like moons. Earth dips from under. We are alone in an immensity of sunlight, Specks in an infinite golden radiance, Whirled and tossed upon silent cataracts and torrents. Give me your hand darling! We float downward.
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How Is It That I Am Now So Softly Awakened
How is it that I am now so softly awakened, My leaves shaken down with music?-- Darling, I love you. It is not your mouth, for I have known mouths before,-- Though your mouth is more alive than roses, Roses singing softly To green leaves after rain. It is not your eyes, for I have dived often in eyes,-- Though your eyes, even in the yellow glare of footlights, Are windows into eternal dusk. Nor is it the live white flashing of your feet, Nor your gay hands, catching at motes in the spotlight; Nor the abrupt thick music of your laughter, When, against the hideous backdrop, With all its crudities brilliantly lighted, Suddenly you catch sight of your alarming shadow, Whirling and contracting. How is it, then, that I am so keenly aware, So sensitive to the surges of the wind, or the light, Heaving silently under blue seas of air?-- Darling, I love you, I am immersed in you. It is not the unraveled night-time of your hair,-- Though I grow drunk when you press it upon my face: And though when you gloss its length with a golden brush I am strings that tremble under a bow. It was that night I saw you dancing, The whirl and impalpable float of your garment, Your throat lifted, your face aglow (Like waterlilies in moonlight were your knees). It was that night I heard you singing In the green-room after your dance was over, Faint and uneven through the thickness of walls. (How shall I come to you through the dullness of walls, Thrusting aside the hands of bitter opinion?) It was that afternoon, early in June, When, tired with a sleepless night, and my act performed, Feeling as stale as streets, We met under dropping boughs, and you smiled to me: And we sat by a watery surface of clouds and sky. I hear only the susurration of intimate leaves; The stealthy gliding of branches upon slow air. I see only the point of your chin in sunlight; And the sinister blue of sunlight on your hair. The sunlight settles downward upon us in silence. Now we ****** up through grass blades and encounter, Pushing white hands amid the green. Your face flowers whitely among cold leaves. Soil clings to you, bark falls from you, You rouse and stretch upward, exhaling earth, inhaling sky, I touch you, and we drift off together like moons. Earth dips from under. We are alone in an immensity of sunlight, Specks in an infinite golden radiance, Whirled and tossed upon silent cataracts and torrents. Give me your hand darling! We float downward.
Continue reading...
55
i. under a flaming bridge blue islands, sky-stream of light, as the tranquil waters unfold, dream of visionary seers and haunted rooms. gold sun running like a tide, pads of echoing cloud, reflections like mirrors on the hollowy water. ii. oil on canvas pond of daydream, water wrapped in love and flower. sunken, bird of grey wire, fallen stone, rippling ghost. iii. flower of ghost, ink lady of sapphire melting and sinking like lanterns in a chine, where the night wanders and the stars lean against the sky. iv. watery isle, rivery summer golds, trembling pond, flower of the dragonfly flower of white sun. v. shadows in the leaves monet fire of gold, strange indigos, violet sky, water-dragon of the pond water-dragon of the flowers.
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Jan 12, 2017
Jan 12, 2017 at 2:58 PM UTC
waterlilies in summer
i daydreamt of monet at lunchtime as i sat alone on the bench by the waterfall that marked the and smelled the and reminded me of the fact that sometimes literal meaning is less important than the smell of wildflowers and the and the way that under the hot july sun the colors of the forest felt a little brighter and my skin was more sensitive to the breeze than it perhaps would have been had it only been sixty five degrees and not eighty three. and waterlilies are ,in fact, a little more green than monet painted them, and less blue, but whatever. or was it just that i hadn't eaten at all in two days and that i was feeling a little light headed and when your mind can't help but wander off on its own then the way that the trees and the birds and the children and the clouds and the sky reflect off of the water start to remind you a little of monet
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Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 10:45 PM UTC
i daydreamt of monet at lunchtime
The waterlilies Float above graceful Koi fish White and cherry red Amongst ripples cast through ponds Of alternate dimensions Whilst white sakura Flow like the wind through long hair Outside car windows During the sunniest days Of an endless rain season Clouds glide across sky Like those wet waterlilies In search of lost time Yearning for life in the warm Recesses of all-being
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Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 11:09 PM UTC
Tsunami (tankas)
You found me stuck staring at rearview mirror reflections of wintry, dusk intersections of everything leaving me all at once. A forced exhale of asphyxia caged in collapsing lungs; my mouth, a fountain spring, that coughed out pools of blood. I wish I saw myself the way you saw me; not a red traffic light wounding speeding cars on winding streets, but an antique heirloom priceless enough you'd only wish you could keep in a heart-shaped box you saw in dreams. But, I'd cut my tongue, paint my lips cherry shades to blend with cells that'd stain handkerchiefs you'd offer. Make you believe this isn't going to foster because you are indecision, unfinished watercolor landscapes of summer forest fire skies, a sun-kissed Pacific wanderer. And I am true crime untouched evidence of break-ins, remains of faulty locks and lights. I am mosaics misaligned; static, seabed cracks from forgotten fault lines. Gaping fissures of sand, and salt that won't let me stitch frayed skin-deep fibres barely holding me in. Oceans would have to empty themselves into whirring cyclones and high tides for our selfish sense of touch to collide. Ice caps would have to sink deep enough to even bruise my skin. And I wouldn't want to watch more Shakespeare end before it begins. *See, I am the one with sharp edges, but why did you have to be the one to clip my wings?* There is only an abyss without a trampoline, a safety net, a bed of waterlilies, I could fall in. And I am so tired of paradoxes and ironies; of always being wanted by someone who doesn't even want to be kept, of always being mended and then left with more dislocations, and fractures, one after another each taking longer to fix. Now, in shapeless parcels, without return addresses sent out into the void these words will echo of love I never intended to borrow, and shadows of false hope you never thought yourself capable of giving away.
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Jul 26, 2019
Jul 26, 2019 at 6:02 AM UTC
Heart-shaped Box
You found me stuck staring at rearview mirror reflections of wintry, dusk intersections of everything leaving me all at once. A forced exhale of asphyxia caged in collapsing lungs; my mouth, a fountain spring, that coughed out pools of blood. I wish I saw myself the way you saw me; not a red traffic light wounding speeding cars on winding streets, but an antique heirloom priceless enough you'd only wish you could keep in a heart-shaped box you saw in dreams. But, I'd cut my tongue, paint my lips cherry shades to blend with cells that'd stain handkerchiefs you'd offer. Make you believe this isn't going to foster because you are indecision, unfinished watercolor landscapes of summer forest fire skies, a sun-kissed Pacific wanderer. And I am true crime untouched evidence of break-ins, remains of faulty locks and lights. I am mosaics misaligned; static, seabed cracks from forgotten fault lines. Gaping fissures of sand, and salt that won't let me stitch frayed skin-deep fibres barely holding me in. Oceans would have to empty themselves into whirring cyclones and high tides for our selfish sense of touch to collide. Ice caps would have to sink deep enough to even bruise my skin. And I wouldn't want to watch more Shakespeare end before it begins. *See, I am the one with sharp edges, but why did you have to be the one to clip my wings?* There is only an abyss without a trampoline, a safety net, a bed of waterlilies, I could fall in. And I am so tired of paradoxes and ironies; of always being wanted by someone who doesn't even want to be kept, of always being mended and then left with more dislocations, and fractures, one after another each taking longer to fix. Now, in shapeless parcels, without return addresses sent out into the void these words will echo of love I never intended to borrow, and shadows of false hope you never thought yourself capable of giving away.
Continue reading...
85
i. the grey ghosts water to the sky, pond to the breaking air, the blues are cloudy islands and stars, lily pad gold-green dream of monet- light. ii. love drifts, scurries over the water like a dragonfly, her wings the light flowing, melting in its breathful streams falling falling in the delicate colours of spring with its tide-like ebb and flow. iii. i held you close and you were the aching spring, the bright opals of the moon, i held you close and all i could see where the blues of the pond, the snake-silver stream of starlight and flower, you were the aching bronzes of the rivery pools, the still water's paradise of blue and white. iv. capture me in the cloudy isles of the bright lilies, i am the melting light, the frail bloom with its zen-like peace, church of quiet air, hopeful stream of ache and light. v. ghost-enamels of impression, silently, the sun sinks and the golds of spring blossom like a spell.
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Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 4:08 PM UTC
waterlilies in spring
I dream of rivers and that sparkle of theirs sleeping upon sunlit waterlilies my eyes sink into that shimmering night of mine and there I see yours darling as sin unsure of what to do unblinking, wishful, gazing into mine have I darkened them? that tenderness within them tell me, was it my doing? drowsy river droplets kiss that throat of yours like I crave to I dream of rivers and that singing voice of theirs lulling me deeper into my slumber the sun sets into that gentle pomegranate color of your unholy mouth as you avert your gaze then turn it back and you speak about my stars while you think I am aware not of it but I turn in my sleep and I shine brighter than your foolish infatuation and my eyes sink deeper into the night of mine I am a river and that gaze of yours will not halt my flow I crave to sing in that forest of your heart but then sweetly I remember mine is starlit
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Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 7:55 PM UTC
THE DREAMY LURE
The sky above him layered in Like waves upon the shoal And all the mountains knew his name And he their waving roll The earth beneath his treading feet Turned stones like mortal coils And all the footprints knew his path And depth above the soil His shoulders stood above the trees A crown of stars his ears And all the shadows couldn't bear to see Nor stand beneath him in fear Beyond no borderlings he'd step Unless his heart was called And with him birds would often sing And perch on him their wall As the waterlilies craved his touch So to mortality, he was bound And then off the earth one day he walked Never again to be found But still the memories of mid-earth Hold fast in root and stem For once a guardian walked this way As a tree with a beard of men
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Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 6:20 AM UTC
The Grandest Ent (Yavanna's Tallest Son)
Unable to get into the Monet show, Too many people there, too many cars, We spent the Sunday morning at Bowl Pond A mile from the Museum, where no one was, And walked an hour or so around the rim Beside five acres of flowering waterlilies Lifting three feet above their floating pads Huge yellow flowers heavy on bending stems In various phases of array and disarray Of Petals packed, unfolded, opening to show The meaty orange centers that become, When the ruined flags fall away, green shower heads Spilling their wealth of seed at summer’s end Into the filthy water among small fish Mud-colored and duck moving explorative Through jungle pathways opened among the fronds Upon whose surface water drops behave Like mercury, collecting in heavy silver coins Instead of bubbles; some few redwinged blackbirds Whistling above all this once in a while, The silence else unbroken all about. “Monet” by Howard Nemerov from The Selected Poems of Howard Nemerov. © Swallow Press, 2003.
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Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 12:35 AM UTC
Monet by Howard Nemerov
new disney film about a little girl with arthritis and two alcoholic parents and she begs them every night to stop screaming new disney film about a child that has a father in prison and a mother that can't make rent anymore "when i grow up i want to be a divorce lawyer" said the four year old at recess to his friends god's mouth gave us grenades and waterlilies "if I buy this lipstick I'll have good *** for the first time in my life" baby you're so much more than a Consumer Demographic to me i'm good at bleeding i'm good at apologizing when I'm not actually sorry if it's sad just make it sound beautiful is that blood gushing out of your nose or are you just happy to see me romantic banter like "did you take your zoloft?" "did you take your lithium?" there are no princesses here
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Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 2:14 PM UTC
a fairy tale circa 2014
~ *Once upon a timid willow The sweetest songs of A hyacinth girl Floated on waterlilies Had a sleepwalking lyric The moorings of her heart Overlooking undercurrent As she dared all things Gently down the stream* ~
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Feb 13, 2024
Feb 13, 2024 at 12:13 PM UTC
Choir Of Blessed Youth
No one so shy as moonlight on waterlilies of a blue-black night          Personne si timide          au clair de lune sur les nénuphars          Ce soir, bleu-noir
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May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 11:59 PM UTC
Personne Si Timide
Leak Hear the toilet cries Escape from her, the heart knows But the ship has sunk Whirlpool Choked with saltwater Corrosives in tropic lungs Breathe the sun, be fine Float Ice cream on soda We were born waterlilies Can we swim? Can we?
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Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 1:38 AM UTC
Passover 575
Sits She waiting in a nest of finest silk strung here to there and in the garden over by the waterlilies sits the mate whose name she bare Wed they in June 5 years ago in Copper Corners by the bay and children 3 had She and He with names like Do and Re and Mi Loved He her and She loved He idyllic life had they came then Charlotte (sans her web) and stole She's He away From what I know they're all there still at least they were today
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Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 6:47 PM UTC
Mildred's Web
WOOP it is all the same with u isn't it, my aquatic lover? would you please! take a moment to keep the drain in place. what EXACTLY did you think would happen when you told all the fish they were insignificant now the waterlilies spit bile and the dolphins scream baby, you wanted FREEDOM                                                   these tsunamis didnt need your pity
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Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 2:47 PM UTC
if morals are relative why am i still breathing
I became island chains in search of the mainlands; horizon birds in the morning mist fires lighting the distant sky what else when you smile like that leaning on your arm I am dragonflies delirious before rain I am the hummingbirds I am all the waterlilies I am going tumbling like the fall stream drunken peal of the wind chime gushing, crashing, ambling on the gulmohars have come dashing down now the street is crimson eyed when you smile like that
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Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 2:43 PM UTC
when you smile like that
Waterlilies. And once, Rue and columbine (thoughts and remembrance) Pretty flowers, From me (of me) "Pretty Ophelia" floating with flowers. Pretty still, Nothing more. Was I never anything more?
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Jun 17, 2020
Jun 17, 2020 at 6:09 PM UTC
Ophelia
✿⊰✲⊱✿ Paul's courtyard is always one to be admired; high cream coloured arches with white statues of birds upon sleek mint-green marble steps. His myrtle hedges, high, hale and trim, in spiral shapes that decorate the courtyard; potted flowers and trees by them. ✿⊰✲⊱✿ As the carriage rides down the mosaic path to the palace; a glittering rainbowtic mosaic orchestra for the eyes; me and my ladies look to see the large-marble statues built upon a large pond with waterlilies; a life-sized history lesson of the proud Kings of Luciuscemi from the first to the current, King Paul, in his carved regalia. ✿⊰✲⊱✿ The music grows into a crescendo as we approach the palace. We admire his private pool houses, each of various colours but had mahogany steps and hanging flower baskets and lights which makes me smile - I usually came to Paul's court to discuss treaties but to also relax and get away from home. Paul always made sure his guests were taken care of. ✿⊰✲⊱✿ "Look, my Lady!" says Ainhara and she points at the benches of flowers; daffodils, roses, lavender, rosemary, mint, white lilies and many more. "He put flowers there in your honour." "Not just mine," I smile, "but of all his friends from Kingdoms near and far. I am looking forward to seeing him again."
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Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 4:24 PM UTC
❀❁ тнє gαlα IV ❁❀
Picking up, the moon, from a creek, watery shadow, silvery tears, esconced in, the the waterlilies. the sleepless koi, the gliding joy, in my dream, a widening net, spread, everyday, over a gurgling rivulet, salvaging, your smile.
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May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 1:54 PM UTC
Salvage
She doesn't really want storms It's just that she breathes dreams of storms and what comes to her eyes, those silly rainbows and dead waterlilies and half-dried rivers, makes she feel like a fat mad white rabbit who is dancing and stamping on you. She always knew it was you ----- Varieties of rain-clouds Spreading like sudor glands on her mosquito-bites covered skin And the pores will not stop yawning and drooling Anna Akhmatova's line Dripping down her throat, her temples and legs; You will hear thunder *and remember me, and think: she wanted storms.* She doesn't really want storms It's just that she likes thunder and thinks it as another form of sound waves her ears used to eat a lot on Friday and Saturday nights. Now it becomes faeces. Your voice.
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Jul 11, 2014
Jul 11, 2014 at 3:08 AM UTC
Midnight Broadcast
All of these were at the Tate; I know they were, for I took notes: The plaster cast of an empty space; View of the Thames with Pleasure Boats. I know they were (for I took notes) on open view, but Art? Well, maybe. View of the Thames with Pleasure Boats; Mother Feeding Crying Baby on open view, but Art? Well, maybe. – unless they take me for a fool. Mother Feeding Crying Baby; Man in Orange Shirt, on Stool. – Unless they take me for a fool, Damien Hurst and Jackson ******* Man in Orange Shirt, on Stool, saying, "What a load of -------s!" Damien Hurst and Jackson ******* Couple Drinking at a Bar, saying, "What a load of -------s, "A plywood model of a car!" Couple Drinking at a Bar; Monet's Waterlilies, and a plywood model of a car; fruit decaying on a stand. Monet's Waterlilies, and People on an Escalator; fruit decaying on a stand. No, skip that one; we'll come back later. People on an Escalator; a film of two men standing still. No, skip that one; we'll come back later. I'm certain that they'll be there still. A film of two men standing still; the plaster cast of an empty space. I'm certain that they'll be there still. All of these were at the Tate.
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Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 12:45 AM UTC
Pantoum – On visiting Tate Modern
Waterlilies sing Hope plays her harp on jade moss Summer’s melody
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Apr 30, 2025
Apr 30, 2025 at 10:20 PM UTC
haiku xi
you can learn much about love from waterlilies: openness and trust, seeking energy from the source, the sun, and reaching deep within to float above all chaos swimming below the surface.
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Jan 23, 2025
Jan 23, 2025 at 3:31 PM UTC
love and waterlilies