Tag Archives: #abstract

Marsh Marigold

A melting clock dripping into a pool of clear tears,
stinging like saltwater drops shed by sad children.
A towering sun assaulted by the whiteness of women’s bodies,
as if they were melting into the skies as distorted forms within dreams.

i need no sympathy. The wind blows ~~ upon this cold night.

A mass of silk and lilies, cascading like several rainbows of color
and patterns colliding overlaping like abstract paintings
We all carry on like nothing really matters /no need no sympathy
A lone figure defending a wall, with colors and shapes of surroundings
melting and morphing into fantastical forms that defy logic.

Angels dancing within dizzying swirls of light and shadows, with their wings
transforming into fluid and organic shapes that blend into the surreal landscape.

Sometimes, yes, sometimes I wish I have had no body at all.

A golden current flowing with dark, tired arms that move with cool and calm rhythms,
while colors of surroundings blend into a vibrant green.
Oh moma, i fear the dark spaces and my skin glows with unknown energy!

A somber figure standing beneath a canopy of blue sky, surrounded by curtains
that transform into arches and hills that meld into the abstract landscape.
Oh, the glistening surface holds such surreal bubbles!
A liquid of deep, pale gold blankets the beds made by fate:

The little girls’ green and faded dresses morph into willows,
from which birds without reins flee, into the vast unknown.
Purer than gold, a yellow eyelid blinks with warmth,
marsh marigold – a symbol of your married faith, O Bride! –

At the stroke of noon, from its dull mirror, jealousy rises
As the rose-colored sphere glows with love: gray heat fills the sky.

:: 05.07.2023 ::

Analysis:

The first stanza presents a series of surreal images, including a melting clock, clear tears, and distorted forms. These images suggest a sense of timelessness and fluidity, as well as a feeling of sadness or loss. The second stanza introduces the idea of abstraction and the blending of colors and patterns, which creates a sense of chaos and confusion.

The third stanza presents the idea of angels and their wings, which transform into fluid and organic shapes that blend into the surreal landscape. This image suggests a sense of freedom and transcendence, as well as a feeling of disorientation and uncertainty.

The fourth stanza introduces the idea of fear and unknown energy, which creates a sense of tension and unease. The fifth stanza presents a somber figure standing beneath a canopy of blue sky, surrounded by curtains that transform into arches and hills that meld into the abstract landscape. This image suggests a sense of isolation and introspection, as well as a feeling of wonder and beauty.

The sixth stanza presents the idea of a golden current flowing with dark, tired arms that move with cool and calm rhythms, while colors of surroundings blend into a vibrant green. This image suggests a sense of renewal and growth, as well as a feeling of harmony and balance.

The seventh stanza introduces the idea of fate and its mysterious workings, which creates a sense of uncertainty and awe. The final stanza presents the image of a marsh marigold, which symbolizes married faith and suggests a sense of hope and commitment.

Overall, “Marsh Marigold” is a powerful and thought-provoking poem that uses rich and evocative language to explore a range of complex themes and emotions.


River Creatures Speak

CLOSING these eyes
reaching outside all reality
you come inside inevitably
surreal being one
dancing twinkle little toes
being mice is little woe
i lost the bread crumbs of a path
inside this deep green forest
little feet wet upon green grass
stopping i look: out there, under stars,
i saw myself focus on the soul i am
reading, drawing, singing, i found a river
of rivulets and eddies swirling around me
the frog croaked, “important to be authentic!”
The tadpole, “Express your emotions with hesitation!”
The skies, “Those wo care about you won’t be bothered
by what you say, and those who are bothered
do not matter.”

:: 04.30.2023 ::


The Balloon Man

Amidst the season of mud,
The small, limping balloon man
Whistles a tune so soft and slight,
And Eddie and Bill, they come running.
Marbles and pirate ships left behind
For it is spring, and the world is full of wonder.

Puddles here and there,
The strange old balloon man
Whistles his song so light and free.
Betty and Isbel, they come dancing
From hopscotch and jump rope,
For it is spring,
And the world is full of life.

The goat-footed balloon man,
He whistles still,
His song so faint and sweet.
And we, like Eddie and Bill,
Like Betty and Isbel,
We run and dance in the spring,
For the world is full of joy.

:: 04.27.2023 ::


I NEVER THOUGHT OF MYSELF (Emily E. Dickinson)

I cannot help but feel afraid
As I approach my final days

For what will happen when I’m gone?
Will life go on, or simply fade?

The world moves forward, ever on
In spite of all the pain and strife
It cares not for my fleeting breath
Or for the end of my own life

But though I fear what lies ahead
I cannot help but feel some peace
For I will join the countless dead
And all this life will one day cease

And maybe in that final sleep
I’ll find some rest, some sweet release
And though the world will still go on
I’ll be at peace, at last at ease.

:: 04.14.2023 ::


I Am Love & The Darkness

I had a vision, not all a vision, I knew;
For in this world of strangeness, the sun had fled,
And stars, once fixed, now wandered lost and few,
Pathless, and rayless, in the sky of lead.

The frozen earth, it swung, blind and blackened,
In moonless air, with no hope of reprieve;
Days passed and went, and yet no light had beckoned,
Hearts forgot their passions in the abyss of grief.

Their hearts froze into selfish prayers for light,
As they lived by watchfires, no hope in sight;
The palaces of kings, and huts as one,
Were burnt for beacons, and cities fell undone.

People gathered round their homes, once filled with joy,
To look once more into each other’s face;
Happy were those who lived near the volcano’s ploy,
As mountains served to light the human race.

Forests were set ablaze, yet fell and faded,
With trunks that cracked and extinguished with a crash;
And in the end, all was black, nothing created,
With brows of men by despairing light, ashen and brash.

Some lay down and wept, and others smiled,
While some did rest their chins upon clenched hands;
And others hurried, fed the funeral piles,
With fuel, and looked up with mad disquietude on the dull sky’s demands.

The wildest brutes came tame and tremulous,
And vipers twined amongst the multitude;
Hissing but stingless, they were slain for sustenance,
And War, which for a moment ceased, consumed again with its renewed attitude.

All earth was but one thought, and that was death,
Immediate and inglorious, with famine to feed;
The meagre were devoured by the meagre, no breath,
And men died, tombless, with no chance to heed.

Even dogs assail’d their masters, but one stayed true,
And faithful to the corpse, kept the birds and beasts at bay;
Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead,
Lured their lank jaws; himself sought out no food, but with a piteous and perpetual moan,
And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand,
Which answered not with a caress—he died.

Only two of an enormous city survived,
And they were enemies, who met beside
The dying embers of an altar-place, deprived,
Where a mass of holy things had been heaped, for unholy usage in disguise.

They scraped with their cold skeleton hands,
The feeble ashes, and blew for a little life,
Which was a mockery, until the light,
Grew stronger, and they beheld each other’s strife.

Each saw and shrieked, and died,
Even in their mutual hideousness they perished;
Unknowing who he was upon whose brow,
Famine had written Fiend. The world was void,
The populous and the powerful a lump,
Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless—
A lump of death—a chaos of hard clay.

The rivers, lakes, and oceans stood still,
And nothing stirred within their silent depths;
Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,
And their masts fell down piecemeal, as they slept
On the abyss without a surge, for waves were dead;
The tides were in their grave, and the moon,
Their mistress, had expired before, leaving darkness,
Which needed no aid from clouds that perish’d soon.
She was the Universe, a shadow of emptiness.


IF by Chance By Once Love

Please be kisses
instead of missing
misses of thoughts

the Mountain head
is the piece of
your fearful Heart

i tip-toe and find
you — hiding there.

Oh, please sweet hugs
instead of history
forgotten as us

oh the horror!

Never asking for answers
or simple smiles

i am hallow and waiting
for science to answer
am i dead or alive?

Evil and Death came
but never ate me

but here i am.

For how long?

:: 02.14.2023 ::


NewsPapers and Taxis and Texts

I saw it in the trees, in the way they leaned and twisted
as if in agony, a warning I had missed.

And then the night it happened, our hollow tree in flames,
and firemen running frantic, like ants in frenzy’s games.

The signs were there, but I chose not to see or hear,
the patient pine that fell, the maple’s snap severe.

Now as the world transforms, and all around me shifts,
the yellow house dismantles, fence lines torn like fabric rifts.

Ponds become backfilled graves, cabooses turn to tanks,
eagles to vultures morph, and wild grass to tiled ranks.

In this world of change and flux,
I whisper to myself,

“I should have known,” like Emily,
my heart a quiet delph.

For like her, I too see now,
the truth that I ignored,
the warnings that were given,
the signs I should’ve adored.

:: 04.04.2023 ::


Territorial Markings

Fair maiden went on her knees and leaned o’er me, with a certain sensuality that doth both thrill and repel.

Her voluptuousness was deliberate, causing mine heart to race, yet also to be filled with unease.

She didst arch her neck and, like an animal, lick her lips, whilst mine own throat felt the tender,
quivering touch of her lips and the hard press of two sharp teeth, barely grazing my flesh and lingering there.

and bit me.

:: 04.02.2023 ::


The Dead Castle In the Skies


Oh, how I long to be with thee,
By the sea, where we are free,
To talk and dream and build with glee,
Our castles in the air, you see.

The ocean’s breeze will softly blow,
As we share secrets none shall know,
And watch the waves come and go,
Our hearts a-flutter, all aglow.

The world may spin and time may fly,
But here with thee, I’ll never die,
For in this moment, you and I
Are infinite beneath the sky.

Oh, how I long to be with thee,
By the sea, where we are free,
To talk and dream and build with glee,
Our castles in the air, you see.

:: 04.01.2023 ::


\YOUR CELLO THROAT MOANS/

As the sun departs and the moon ascends,
I sense the beast of teenage bliss, my friend,
The silver orb of night casts eerie light,
And I roam, unseen, in the inky night.

Seeking a morsel that’s delectable,
Beware, for my arrival is formidable,
From the depths of my soul and broken heart,
I am a living corpse seeking a part.

My visage, a ruse, to lure you in,
For I am a teenage zombie, with a grin,
My prey, like Mona Lisa’s smile, beguiled,
As I, with bliss and blood, am thus styled.

Run, run, when I am on the prowl,
My savage heart yearns for a feast, a howl,
The city, a jungle, and I, the beast,
A teenage fiend, obsessed, unleashed.

I crave the most, but accept the least,
A zombie of blood and bliss, at least,
The hunt is on, and you’re my prey,
My fangs, they gleam, in the light of day.

Oh, the ecstasy of my teenage years,
In blood and bliss, my hunger nears,
For I am a creature of the night,
With teenage bliss and blood, my plight.

:: 04.01.2023 ::