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Penne Feb 2019
A dictionary of words
Thousands---infinites!
Little marks to describe a vast world
Lest not care of lacking logic
Aroused by imagination is my magic
Lemon zests the cornucopia of citrus
Are not they a splash of kalopsa?
Charisma, karma, euphoria?
Not allowed to bleed in blanc
Wail in rosy franc
Puddles of messed reflection
Fictions wonder reaction
Wander in the wildest wilderness
Describe the autumn, fall
Moist, solitary
Fawn on the lawn
Reality is the contrary
Refuge in the creamed sugar
Like a cup of iced kiss
Deep burrowed in the mapled hiss
Wait for its marmalade bliss
Head exploding in fireworks
Magnificent, what about nightfall?
Showers and streaks befall
Stars shoot smoke of ball
Cry tears of meteorites
Sprinkle the blinking sprites
Flow streams of sparkling silence
Swim the chasing glares
Enchant me in your chemise, evangelic skin
Leitmotif of mimes' maim, mean?
Speculate the pixelled fairies
Hide in the fruits of Alice
Spark at the dance of hands
Paint the faint trees
Baskets of floating sheep
Bounce in the enigmatic realm
Drooling in
As they transgress the egress
In chiffon blush flushed
Bittersweet caress
Bare grasslands with strangers
Wet the glory shine
Morning then hoots for sleep
Shush, weeping willows
Flowers of your scent hover the grove
Voices sweetly surrender
Linger for tender
Gloam or roam
River of innocence soul
Reaping the afterglow
Aglow my fountained lockes
Blur for it to be clearer
Illusions of ambiguity
As its lips meet the prism
Of brilliant optimism
Breathtaking fauvism
Breathless onism
Succumb in the limitless reverie
Rare of not having aneurysm
Persephone's persepolis
Blood of perenelia
Where Opheus court Eurydice
Winter solace holies
Lakes of beating lights
Bloom irregularly
As the sesquipedalian crawl out from its vine
In the Brobdingnagian it creeps
Line between sublime and wine
Harmony weave in palette
Rhythm rose from my red
Fresh breeze hush the roulette
Leaves blade the crafted well-made
Dusk, dawn to diiferentiate
Eclipse the hysteria and the impeccable
Love waltz
Glide the glistened clarity
Perfume lilies
Stares of lavenders
Rain the clouds of keys
Crystallizing and fractalizing
Mesmerize, astonish, aghast!
Rise your mile
Fragile my rile
Bridge this moonlit immeasurable, fantasia distance
Repertoire of piano choir
Luxury in the polychrome noir
Royal in the loyal wintermelon
Poppies color the spring
Butterflies fly in the effervescence
My painting sings a summer fling
Jump in the pantones
Rest your all
Stones amble swish scone
Wishes twinkle then hone
Will-o-wisps chill your bone
Lend me a wing
Let not be done in a ding
What I fear, free from the fringes of meek
My, this lexicon is not enough!
How to occupy the million, jillion, eternal galaxies
Shout in the rave
Echoing in the waves
Marvel at the bejewelled revel
Image my imagery
Oh, dive away child!
Let us drive in the garden of glaze
Careful not to be too amazed in the maze
In the hummed woodglade
As the critters flutter and flute
No way to chain me out of this loop
Pool of pretty astonishments
Diamonds of nature
Endure, not inure
Words alone are insufficient
These are just mere fantasies
Some are unexplainable
Some needs to be felt
Some needs to be seen
Not just read
Not just dreamt
I may sound dubious
But this is incredulous
Just a random collection of pretty words º-º
Ian Miranda Nov 2012
I often find myself deep in the world of unknowns
of wind,
of fire,
of water

She exhales
sending static electricity waltzing through the air
as if the particles find some deeper attraction in her presence
Her fragrance
zests the cracks of empty space
Within a single whispered word,
my breath escapes me
in hopes that it may embrace
just the sound of her voice

Her heat fills up my spine
like a thermometer
and illuminates the heart
Fiery eyes burn hieroglyphics onto my lungs
Her touch gives me the fireflies
and in a frenzy they collide
igniting on impact
Their spilled embers
cast sillouetes on my eyelids
of our candle-lit dinners

Silk hair
pools against the bed sheets
Her lips would be the moon
to my tidal kiss
Frost nips at her imperfections
But she never freezes
for she changes feverishly
like bubbling water
If only transparent

Her forms cannot define her
But,
She is mystic like the air
Spontaneous like a spinning flame
A kinesthetic ocean
and I’m good at drowning
vircapio gale Oct 2015
the censorship meme
alive inside me as a child:
some books were worth the mention of--
war and **** were not.

untimely at a pennsylvanian writers' club
where fear lodged quiet smile-halves
in talking clouds and farmyard metaphor,
to weekly bray the corner of an antique movie-house

newcomers weren't to share their work
we three were welcomed as an audience at best
we passed the others' writers' chapter-copies on
on which i scribbled notes of praise
on notes of theme-entwining anti-argument
and **** zests of vast significance:
notes of floral yearning, meadowed love--
iron skies and ahistoric dreams--
off and on archaic themes
of which we weren't to share
i've been told i shouldn't "censor myself"
when i'm just engaged in editing:
the difference may be vague along a certain line
but i haven't shared anything in a long time.

does spam elucidate the issue of how best to navigate the interwebz?
preemptive dismissal of anything resembling or smelling like spam or what might be associated with the production of spam: id est, not owning a smartphone and neglecting to have internet access via one's computer, and also disabling netflicks from the wii
(∴) spam makes my life better by teaching me how to avoid life as is currently envisioned by contemporary humans
Budhaditya Bose Oct 2016
Whisky, all on my veins, the
golden liquor, The fine
malted grain spirit, aged in the
oak barrels for years,
The exquisite taste, with an ice,
or two for its anger to calm,
with zests of an orange, with
a lemon peel hooked on the glass,
with the light sip, savouring it
all over the taste buds, But
Its not why the glass is held,
All the times, its not all, Its,
Its about letting go, of which
can't be forgotten, letting go of what,
can't be let gone, most of all,
Burning the affectionate heart,
to debris, never being able to love.....
Trying to forget, with Whisky, as as a friend.....
OnwardFlame Jan 2016
Yellow lemon shirt, bright purple shorts
You grabbed the end of my salmon colored sweater
“I like the texture. I have this thing with textures."
You said to me, our clean swift tanned feet
Escorting us to the city dwelled beach
You wanted to surround me with the same familiarity
You had practiced so many times before
But I was
So new, so fresh, so unknown.

I remember you sat on the bus, and popped open a beer
Too nervous to sit next to me, I kept my cat eye sunglasses--
On all day, your circular RayBans reflecting only me.

Remember the first time you walked into the room
Your longboard in your arms
Swan, brooding in black glamour, your eyes and chest
Seemed so interesting, to little ole me
But you jump swiftly into roof top pools
Budding and swimming, disappearing
Text me only to update me
Pint of Jim Beam, I knew I could keep up with you
I thought maybe you could too.

Theres something about reflecting back on this time
The innocence, nostalgia of it
That fills my bones up with summer soaked skin
Margaritas in the sunshine
As you doted on me through a cellphone
FaceTime became our middle name
As you reached from afar,
Promises we could have written into the sand
Only to watch the wind blow them all away.

Fast forward to walking down the street, arm in arm
You still extend to me sometimes
It feels like we have arrived on different planets
When we choose not to now.
Wings and outstretched newness remaining
Crying under your strong limbs
My heels make me an Amazonian Princess
You chose to not invite me tonight
I guess I don’t blame you
As you walk away from the bar,
I’ll always be eons and centuries far
Away from what we hoped we could be.
Kisses that grew with intensity and longing
Ducks and swans eating eggs and pie
Such contentment, falling asleep nestled like little dolls
You wanted
I wanted
We wanted
We hoped
For this to be
It.

Sweeping into our childhoods
Our families, the cities we thrived in
They’re so different, we couldn’t be more different
We ate sandwiches and should have held hands under the table
Like we do now at times at late night diners
Our loneliness and longing
We reinvent with time and poisonous bottles.

You said the other day
That my poetry feels like a story now
But I teach a lesson with each?
Green leaves edging up the length of your legs,
Our mamas so eloquently speak the truth
Your spine, remember all the times
You professed your love?
As I watched with careful eyes
Running away a little at a time.

We walked to the movies together
Lips smudged in deep red
I remember turning to you afterwards
"I love the fact that a WOMAN edited that!!"
The look of wonder in your eyes
Has kept me here
Bopping and bebopping
All along.

Fire hair, unicorn woman
Other men and women dance next to you
But your eyes shift away
Looking into my face
But you turn to go
Once you see I was never yours to keep.

Unbuttoning, dancing into the wee hours of the night
Across gallery openings
Crowded rooms
The windows of buses
Brown hazel eyes that look like mossy green forests
In the natural sunlight
Delicate but hard rugged skin
Tattoos that made sense under the ink of a gun
Spiky hair that can’t decide which way to sit
Chiseled features, and those lips I’ll always miss a bit
Strength personified by angels sewn into skin
A stature often teased but so mobile, grounded, and free
And lastly the beating entity in your chest full of carefree
Amorous beginnings and endings, humors manners
Compiled into the nymph who ran away with my heart in May
And I lament, "Will I forever be chasing pixie dust?"

I love you.
So much.
I do.
You love me.
You do.
So much.

But I watch you sprinkle the environment
The atmosphere,
Swans biting and swirling around it all
Directing and flying into the shining sky
A beacon of tomorrow and the tomorrows to come
As we inch forward and inch back
Like wild hunters on the loose
With your kindness, your sincere interest
Wonder
You always understood me.

I don't have the answers
I don't know how to keep you
I don't know how to reinvent what we were
As our bodies demand and beg for love
But we
But you
But I,
Insert the perfect answer here.

I knew I always would—
Drifting further and further away with each day
Sometimes I long for you to rush
Through the rip tides and muddy waters
Of the deepest ocean
To rise on the other side
Gasping for air, fingers reaching
As if escaping from a pirouette
I long to encircle it all in frothy candy canes
Unicorn blood stained new found friendship
But we send pics, conveying how removed we are
Blowing out every single candle.

I thought I would have all the proper words
That I could articulate so simply
So simply and with lightness
But you turn 24 in 3 minutes.

I guess I imagined all of this differently
Entangling myself in all of the vines of my words
My thoughts, my fears, my joy
I gave them away to you like little trinkets
A book of poetry, sums up everything we were
But if I compiled it all
It would take me years.
Everything we are
As I curl with love into who I am
As I explode with prophetic cinematic splatter paint
As the ripest orange zests and still professes
Just like we did that warm fall Missouri wedding day.

Thank you.
Thank you for the stories to share
For unknowingly becoming a muse
In my elfin ear.

I placed a sunshine emoji next to your name
In my cellphone
Last week
Because thats what you are
Thats what you will always be
No matter how many times our hands reach
Only to fall back to our sides
As we remember and dote on the time
I told you I was a Southern Woman
And you chased me down the street
Inked yourself with the metaphoric image of me
I wave farewell to it all--
As I held you so dearly in the palm of my hand
Little porcelain
Little porcelain

Baby.
Doll.

Happy Birthday Zak.
SURETICE TONGUE Jan 2021
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IRRESPECTIVE OF ECHO

SAMUEL DAVID <believingvirtue@gmail.com>
Tue, Oct 20, 2020, 2:47 AM
to drmikemurdock

Hi in the existing pursuits,  beyond the reigning of induction

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Of  weathering  stoodly vasts of flaring in the glories of orchard...’ in the over immovable  oneness  raqve injh the greatness of implementation  so fulcrum  of pointing  glory of galories…’ in the  wrist of eternitry  in the  unequalledled  of changing tide prophecy  of photostreaqm nof black inh the desk of knowledge

Al;tering in the sonship to eternity column…’

Triumphing in the  echo of  surmantable.



Your  conquering  absurd,



Samuel Churchill Omale

Wrist  Of Eternity Rejoining

www.hellopoetry.com/SPEAR­­_LEGACY

+2348131914240
Yenson Jan 2022
Our Salts are full of zests if not dry and superfluous....think

— The End —