He smiles
as I write
these
words
A twist of lemon,
some bitter tonic—
flowing through
thirsty veins
*
I smile
as he draws
a pair
of eyes
The ones
that brighten
the darkest days
of our nocturne souls
*
Chilly air
swirls into
our empty
space
While I get rid
of commas,
full stops—
irreverent
aftertastes
*
It all ends
with a styled,
stained letter
and a twist of lemon—
As it gently
infuses
our vodka
and tonic,
—And this fine,
short,
tale
S l o w l y ,
yet oozing danger,
a spider trail-blazes
the path to her
silver
mansion
The one I,
yawning and
weary-eyed,
visit on
sleepless
nights
I shout—
but there is no point
in getting bewildered—
I’m just
tripping
/ I n t h i s
i m a g i n a r y
i m p l o s i o n
o f m y
s l e e p l e s s
m i n d /
Slowly,
but
fearlessly
I approach
the light with
cautious
steps
I can’t sleep,
I shout—
yet my loving cuddle
keeps escaping
her kiss
of death
/ I d r e a m o f
a l i f e o f w o n d e r
b a r e l y
h i d d e n b e h i n d
h e r s l i m y
w a l l s /
Truth is
spiders
were never my
chosen companions
in day-dreaming
adventures
Still,
she seems
quirky
enough
to become
my nocturne
muse
As I,
yawning, and
weary-eyed,
follow the path
into her
S i l v e r M a n s i o n
By Secret Bree and Vintage Black
With a piercing
stare
and unquenchable
appetite—
I’m one
of the wild ones
captivating
and
fierce
Slowly
ever so vigilantly
you approach
trying to
embrace
me with
velvet
sounds
—Casting that
wicked
magic
of a
wild
cat
whisperer—
Yet I’m
not falling
prey
to your
taming
charms
Inevitably
you’ll fall
in lust
Everything else
turning
to dust
against
my
sensual verses
Sweaty,
playful-
breathing,
s l o w
Will you join me
when I start
to
lick
and
lay down
l o w
rocking my hips—
begging you
/in verse/
oh, please
come?
Foxy
feline
needing
fun
Sighing
feeling
outstretched
back
Wild one
ponders
when
to
a
t
t
a
c
k
I know
you enjoy
watching me
wild and free
but remember
from
my bedroom
there are
no
escapees
You better
be careful
I tease,
and
I bite
But do not fear—
it’s
ever
so slight
You won’t get hurt
I rock my hips—
so loud
you sigh—
you welcome me
with arms
open
wide
I’m one of the
wild ones
captivating
and
fierce
With wild
anticipation,
all sweaty,
untamed,
in thrusting tempo,
in pleasurable
pain
We tease
we lick
we sigh
it hurts
But just
ever so
slightly….
Wild play
Devil player
faded charm
mindless trickster
she dared fight,
One fair combat—
all she wanted
yet, the truth is,
he,
d
e
c
l
i
n
e
d
Biding adieu
to his wonders
such a let down
ice rock heart
She kept weaving
her wild verses
while she smoked,
she drank,
she laughed
Yet he fired
treason bullets
thinking he’d
just reaped
her heart
He believed
her wounds
were deadly—
lousy honour,
crumbling Bard!
Yet the stars,
my friends,
just wished
that night,
For old-time
cheats
to burn
to ash
And with fighting
all abandoned,
on forged devil
with a mask
She poured
unforgiving lava,
blazing verses,
flaming darts
Biding adieu
to his wonders
while
s h e
F i r e s,
L o v e s ,
a n d
W r i t e s
Silver songs
and sombre sounds
like silent stories—
stoned, profound
Writing, boldly,
of wild, wild dreams,
this page all soaked
with bright, red ink
My tears pouring
down that page,
just drowning words
with startled rage
While smoking,
writing,
dreaming,
stoned,
Those letters
blurring—
poems
I owned
My silver
song
so stoned
it fades
The story
inhabits
dark,
stark caves
Yet writing, boldly,
of wild, wild dreams,
that nearly burst
with bright red ink
And those
stoned letters
cast long
shades,
All dripping,
bloodied,
verse
cascades
While smoking,
writing,
dreaming,
stoned,
Those letters
blurring—
poems
I owned
My ire blazing
on that page
just burning words
with startled rage
And writing,
boldly,
of wild,
wild dreams,
This silver
song,
so
stoned—
It fades.
I strived to collect
the shattered
pieces of your
broken
mirror
The one
you bought
to catch a glimpse
of your ailing
soul
I’d slowly arrange
those
crystal pieces
into a living
puzzle
My hands
got scarred,
my heart, all aching—
fearing
one high toll
My mind
all floundered,
just picking pieces
off the cold
ceramics
My feet all naked,
as I kept walking
on that
unswept
floor
*
You yearned
to collect the
shattered pieces
of your broken
mirror
The one
You bought
to catch a glimpse
of your unmasked
whole
Yet your aid,
guarded,
while it was wanted,
you just kept all
secret,
For hell,
lightened,
may have
one day granted
your long-wished
parole
Forever silenced,
while it was wanted,
it remained a secret,
a living puzzle
a shattered mirror—
a sight
so
bold
*
I’d try to arrange
those
crystal pieces
into a living
puzzle
The one that
would once
brighten such
a dim-lit
gaol
Yet my aid,
guarded,
while it was needed,
you just kept all
secret,
Those empty promises
words void
of meaning—
a death
foretold
Yes—it was wanted,
those shattered
pieces,
a living
puzzle,
Which you kept
guarded,
forever silenced,
an ailing
soul
Rare words,
Wildly
Running
Through those
Full lips—
Untimed
The ones you
Didn’t dare
Open
When trying
To speak
Your riveting
Lies
Rivers
of sound
Reverberating
Through
Silence,
Flying arabesques
Of the mind—
In your dreams,
So far away
In that gloomy horizon
Silent
Words—
Wildly pouring
through
Tearful
Sights
Soft mounds,
Rare waters—
Some eerie
Arabesque
Light
The one you
Wouldn’t dare
Shed—
While plotting
Your riveting
Lies
Silent words
Soothing waters—
And ghostly
Dreams of
Might
W i t h h o p e,
they paint
their lucid
dreams
o f
y o n d e r
f e e
l i
n g
f l u i d ,
S p r e a d i n g
a r m s in
d r u n k e n
c o l o u r e d
s n o w
Unspoken fantasy—
melting into
a madman’s
f l o r i d
l a n d
s c a p e
Their heart,
f r o z e n , aged —
yet still moving to
the beat of this
f r e e
f l o w
*
W i t h h o p e,
they paint
their lucid
dreams
o f
y o n d e r
Naughtily stirring
the s o o t h i n g
c a l m n e s s
of s u c h
w o e
As, from afar,
they look
at this
f r e s h l y
p a i n t e d
l a n d
s c a p e ,
f e e
l i
n g
f l u i d ,
Their minds
a l i g h t
w i t h
d r u n k e n
c o l o u r e d
g l o w
By Secret Thoughts Within and Vintage Black
I am so tired
so very, very tired
of not feeling comfortable within myself
I am so weary
so very, very weary
of putting my heart back on the shelf
Tired
tired tired
Weary
weary weary
Comfortable with nothing
and weary with so little
my shelf life (patience) expired
and my honest thoughts
are cracked and
b r i t t l e
Feelings in disguise,
yet naked to my eyes
tired of dried tears
words stumbling
in my mouth
I’m comfortable
with nothing
I keep wearing
this sad face,
walking through my life
feeling barely
awake
I am so tired
so very, very tired
of not feeling comfortable within myself
I am so weary
so very, very weary
of putting my heart back on the shelf
Tired
tired tired
Weary
weary weary
I open my eyes
stifle a yawn
allow my heart to take some chances
Some friendly hugs
Some cheeky words
Some flirty engaging glances
Still
so tired,
and so weary
I am
Yet I know,
with a smile
a verse
a stream of thought,
a nice coffee
under the sun
I’ll awaken from dreams
and all I have lost
and slowly
but surely discover
my heart's still beating—
s o s t r o n g
*Third piece I write with the lovely Secret Thoughts within- always great fun collaborating with her
Where is her tiny
Black dress?
The one
She wanted to
Wear that
E v e n i n g
A dress of
Fancy,
Bitter,
Sweet and
Dark-tinged
V e r s e
Prose-dyed,
Vague-styled,
But, still,
Written with
Her,
I n u n i s o n
Neither
Of them
Wanting
To die
A verse-less
D e a t h
For this,
They together
Caress,
An achingly
D a r k , — B o l d
B l a c k
— D y e dD r e s s — V e r s e
Fragments of deep verse
Washing ashore
Yet the lyrical tempest
Hasn’t even
S t a r t e d
In this rough and
slumbering,
Wetly dry and
Wicked,
Late summer
of slow
w o r d sWake up,
W o r d S t o r m e r
Have you ever
dreamed of
such a late,
And furious,
Timeless,
Fateful,
Somber,
Fearsome,
Word
S t o r m ?
Wake up,
W o r d S t o r m e r
Sedimented stanzas
Washing ashore
Yet the lyrical tempest
Hasn’t even
S t a r t e d
Far removed
from Self,
Far removed
From Other,
Far removed
from
Poets—
Far removed—
SmotheredIn this rough,
slumbering,
Wetly dry and
Wicked,
Late summer
Of slow
w o r d sWake up,
P o e m S t o r m e r
We haven’t met
In real life
I’ve barely seen
Your framed
P r o f i l e
Yet your words
Illuminate
My path
Your empath
Soul
My spirit
L i g h t e n s
This soft
Bright verse
All weaved in
P u r p l e
A wickedly
Magnetic rhymer
Wielding words
With infinite poetic
N o u s
A great
Wing poetess
A gifted lyricist—
And a better
F r i e n d
This soft
Bright verse
All weaved in
P u r p l e
I gift you back
This free-
Spirited
Scripted,
T e r s e ,
Mild-waved
Wild-rhymed
But honestly,
Faithfully,
D e e p l y ,
All purple,
Waved, and
Soulfully
Written
V e r s e
T h e s e
P u r p l e
W a v e s
A g e n t p r o v o c a t r i c e
she tried
t o
b
e
a n d
p r i c k e d
b y t h o r n y
— p o e m s
these fingers,
n o w,
b a r e
r h y m e s
c a n ' ts r b l c i b e*
y e t s h e 's a
d i l e t t a n t e —
at
a m b i g u i t y
she
d i t h e r s
*
t h i s g l a r i n g
s u n
e m b a l m i n g
l i g h t
will b a t h eher f r a i l y e tr h y t h m i cm i g h t
*
she y e a r n s ,
once m o r e,
t o d i v e
i
n ,
s i m
w
blue - b i r t h i n g
v e r s e
i n l u s c i o u s
i n k
*t h i s g l a r i n g
s u n
e m b a l m i n g
l i g h t will b a t h eher f r a i l y e tr h y t h m i cm i g h t
*
A g e n t p r o v o c a t r i c e
she t r i e d
t o
b
e
and d i t h e r
d i d
and
d i t h e r
w i l l
*
u n d e r
n e w l i g h t
a b a r e
b l u e
b o l d ,
free
v e r s e —
t a k e s
f tl hi g
*
A g e n t p r o v o c a t r i c eg o t n e a r l y
k i l l e d,
b u t b i r d
of m i g h t —
r e b o r n
she found
h e r
*
and d i t h e r
d i d
and
d i t h e r
w i l lthese fingers,
n o w ,b a r e
r h y m e sd os r b l c i b e
*
r e b o r n
and full
of
m i g h t
i n i n k she
t h r i v e s
in i n k she
s w i m s
*
A g e n t p r o v o c a t r i c e
she tried
t o
b
e yet s h e ' s a
d i l e t t a n t e —
at
a m b i g u i t y
she
d i t h e r s
these days
i feel too mild
to grasp life with
a mordacious bite
i lose my pencils easily
and i permanently
misplace my pens
and pads
my words end up
stored away
in fridges,
where i’d rarely
look,
Alas!
lest I turn
ravenous
with
rhyming
lust
my lazy verses,
in arrears,
they become
tears of
m
o
d
e
r
o
b
goodbye
steam lettering
on a hot bathroom
M
i r
r o
r r
o r
r i
M
By Amber @Diosraw & Vintage Black
We nursed those
pixelated lilies
back to
WordPress life
Time
travelling
the technicolor
cyberspace
Birthing
new data nova
blossoming
ripples
The way our
readers would
love them to sway
and rhyme
Forever
poetically
entwined like
old 'net souls,
Smelling them,
after one hell
of a poet hard
day's night
Those petals
never smelled so
beautiful, their aroma,
yet untouched
Frozen
in the liquid
space of
virtual landscapes
Traceable
as textured
blogging
stanzas
Scented like
miniature
screen
snowdrops,
with concealing
yet revealing
online veils and,
O
frail and
pixelated
lilies,
interstellar.
* * *
For this “virtual eco-poetry” (own coinage :p) piece, I bounced ideas back and forth with Amber @Diosraw. Amber’s got a site with hundreds of resources on multiple topics - ranging from yoga, eastern spirituality, science, tech, alternative media, and many more.
I die
A thousand
Deaths,
And cry
A thousand
Tears
Inky drops
Become
Soft crease—
On coarse skin,
Renewed
Fears
I write
This very
Poem
To tattoo it
On your
Skin
White ink
Is so translucent—
Such a
Slight,
Poetic
Sin
I die
A thousand
Deaths,
And cry
A thousand
Tears
If only
I’d read this
On my palm—
To get prepared
For life’s
exam
But fact is,
History
Tells me,
You can’t
Read
Between
Inked lines
I die
A thousand
Deaths,
And cry
A thousand
Tears
Profound verse,
Quenching
Thirst
For life—
Would tell
You about
Poetic
Strive
You die
A thousand
Deaths,
And cry
A thousand
Tears
Some dark
Drop
Stains,
Soft,
Wrinkled
Skin
On book
Unwritten,
Dark,
And stark,
And torn,
And loud,
And
Magic,
Start.
And
Feared.
So.
White.
Teared.
Skin puzzle
Dismantled
In pieces
It breaks
A myriad of
Heartbreaks
A billion
Blue tapes
I turn on
The radio
My mind gets
All buzz
My eyes get
All blurry
My heart
Gives a blast
The mike
Switches on
No words
Old travail
I clear my mind
My voice
Won’t obey
Skin puzzle
Dismantled
In pieces
It breaks
A myriad of
Heartbreaks
A billion
Blue tapes
They give you an answer
You don’t wanna hear
It’s sad and
So lonely—
No place
For you here
Now ready to go.
Please do...
Draw the curtain!
And—
Switch. off.
That.
Lamp.
Steam rises,
So hot here!
That room—
Gets.
All.
Damp.
Don’t want
Those
Wall poems
All soiled,
Dyed,
Smeared,
Smudged
Skin puzzle
Dismantled
In pieces
It breaks
A myriad of
Heartbreaks
A billion
Blue tapes
*** With love to my favourite beta reader; you know who you are ;-)
She was born
An electric year
Blank was her canvas
Gone with the wind
A hectic mind
And fragile skin
Tears of dust
Heading to the
Gold horizon
Electric to touch
And buzzing with
Flying verse
Dressed in cord pants
Chunky brown shoes
Curls down
To her ears
Eyes—wiser than
Her years
Tears of dust
Heading to the
Gold horizon
Electric to touch
And buzzing with
Flying verse
She was born
To a bird of clay
Blue was the sky
Crimson obeyed—
Turned cold prey
Craftsmen say
Magenta pigment
Had ran out
That day
Tears of dust
Heading to the
Gold horizon
Electric to touch
And buzzing with
Flying verse
Paint on her fingertips
Words down her eyelids
Stardust kisses
On her lips
Electric blue tinges
Nursing her
Back to sleep
Tears of dust
Heading to the
Gold horizon
Electric to touch
And buzzing with
Flying verse
She was born
An electric year
Blank was her canvas
Gone with the wind
A hectic mind
And fragile skin
Slowly, slowly,
You approach me
Little creature
Of the night
I behold those
Fancy feelings
Wicked wizard
Warm at heart?Slowly, slowly,
I approach you
Please don’t bite me
Let me roam free
Lion tamer
Suave enchanter
Got seduced by
Your spider fang
Softly gifting
Piercing heartaches
Wicked creature
Golden nightSlowly, slowly,
You reproach me
Swift-tonged monster
Full of might
I might leave this
Fancy figment,
Feathered, foamed,
Velvet stream at heart
I still dream, You—
Wondrous creature,
Would come,
slowly,
a n d
S o f t l y ,
D a r k - v e i l e d ,
B I T E .
I often feel flustered
with your never-ending
sweet-toothed verses
You are endowed
with some greatly
magical tricks
Yet your poem interruptus
meter often leaves me
all cold and bothered
Fact is, I'll never get
sonnet-pregnant
with your words
'Cause you always
pull out your rhymes
at the very last minute
There is never enough time
to come into ode-full
moans and sighs
My daylight dreams
are all flustered and
my imagination drawn
to ecstatic snippets
Lest it get too desirous
of your malicious,
yet infectiously
mellifluous ballads
Oh boy—
this
poem
interruptus
Of yours
