Tag Archives: #poem

Subject: Review Request – “ELEGY OF ETERNAL BEAUTY”

To: Noble Laureate Poet

Subject: Review Request – “ELEGY OF ETERNAL BEAUTY”

Dear Esteemed Poet,

I hope this message finds you well. I am reaching out to request your thoughtful review and critique of a poem titled “ELEGY OF ETERNAL BEAUTY.” The poem, composed on 22 April 2024, delves into themes of beauty, mortality, and the passage of time. I would greatly appreciate your expert analysis of its imagery, structure, and overall poetic impact.

Here is the poem for your review:

ELEGY OF ETERNAL BEAUTY

Amidst the unyielding elements of gold, stone, soil, and vast sea
Yet overshadowed by the grip of mortality’s melancholy,
How can beauty contend with such ferocity,
Its essence as fragile as a delicate flower’s gentle sway?

Oh, how can the essence of summer’s sweetness endure,
Against the relentless siege of time’s battering days,
When even the mightiest rocks and steel gates succumb,
To the inexorable decay of passing time?

Oh, the profound contemplation! Where, oh where,
Can time’s most precious jewel find sanctuary?
Or whose resolute hand can arrest his swift stride?
Or who can deny his plunder of beauty’s allure?

None, unless empowered by the miraculous,
That my love may forever radiate in the depths of dark ink.

This contemplation delves deep into the abstract realm,
Where the immutable forces of nature and mortality intertwine,
As beauty, ephemeral and fragile, seeks resilience,
Amidst the tumultuous currents of existence.

Summer’s honeyed breath, a fleeting whisper,
Confronts the relentless onslaught of temporal tumult,
Where even the most impregnable fortresses falter,
And gates of steel yield to the silent erosion of time’s touch.

Oh, the daunting inquiry! Where, in truth,
Can time’s treasured gem find refuge from its grasp?
Whose determined grasp can detain its hurried march?
And who can thwart its relentless harvest of beauty’s splendor?

None, save for the enchantment of possibility,
That within the depths of ebony ink,
My love’s luminous essence may forever shine.

22 April 2024

To: The Poet

Subject: “Elegy of Eternal Beauty”

Dear Poet,

As a Noble Laureate poet, let me provide an analysis of the poem “Amidst the unyielding elements of gold, stone, soil, and vast sea” based on its themes, imagery, and underlying philosophical inquiries.

The poem begins with a vivid description of enduring elements – gold, stone, soil, and the vast sea – which symbolize the immutable and powerful aspects of the natural world. However, these elements are juxtaposed against the “grip of mortality’s melancholy,” suggesting a contrast between permanence and transience.

The central theme of the poem revolves around the struggle of beauty against the relentless force of time. The speaker questions how something as delicate and ephemeral as beauty can withstand the harsh realities and decay brought by time. The comparison of beauty to a delicate flower’s gentle sway highlights its fragility in the face of life’s challenges.

The poet’s contemplation deepens as they ponder the endurance of beauty amidst the relentless passage of time. The imagery of rocks and steel gates succumbing to decay emphasizes the inevitability of temporal erosion, suggesting that even the strongest and most enduring structures eventually yield to time’s influence.

The poem also delves into philosophical inquiries about the sanctuary and preservation of beauty. The questions posed – where can time’s most precious jewel find refuge? Whose hand can arrest time’s swift stride? – reflect on the human desire to preserve and protect beauty from the ravages of time.

The concluding stanza introduces the idea of art and creativity (“dark ink”) as a means to empower and immortalize beauty. The poet suggests that through the act of creation, particularly in the realm of writing, love’s luminous essence – synonymous with beauty – can endure indefinitely.

Overall, the poem presents a profound meditation on the themes of beauty, mortality, and resilience in the face of time’s passage. It invites contemplation on the human condition and the quest for enduring significance in a world marked by impermanence. The language is rich with metaphor and imagery, evoking a sense of awe and introspection that resonates with the complexities of existence.

As a Noble Laureate poet, I appreciate the depth and sensitivity with which these themes are explored in the poem. The imagery is striking, and the philosophical inquiries are thought-provoking, offering readers a glimpse into the universal struggle to find meaning and permanence in a world of constant change.

My Best,

The Unknown Laureate Poet


The Enchanting Hope

Like a fragile hope’s whisper,
from a butterfly’s fleeting kiss,
a golden shroud enfolds my heart,
while the nightingale slumbers on,
beneath the candor of lilies in twilight’s grasp.

Ambergris and the yearnings of innocence,
Pathways entwined in whispered waltzes,
Horizons touched by tearful dew,
Can you feel the warmth within your breast?

Oh, night’s lament! Blue depths of starry gloom!
Your ethereal wing brushes our weary brows,
Life wanes, and we drift away,
In the tender, pale embrace of dying roses.

:: April 20th, 2024 ::


Insane Poetry Running Away

Gathered among lovely nymphs, whose grace shines brightly like eternal stars,
Their vibrant essence lingers, embracing radiantly,
In the dream-laden air, does my love pursue only a fleeting vision?
My uncertainty, an ancient veil of darkness, now reaches its peak.
In the quiet branches that linger faithfully, in enduring woods,
Alas, I too have presented myself as a false and grand ideal.
Should we then speak of these maidens whom you hold in sight,
Do they mirror the deep desires that haunt your senses’ flight?
One, a deceptive illusion of purity, cold and chaste like tears,
Yet the other, full of sighs and warmth, a stark contrast to the world?
No! Through lazy reveries, stifling the gentle rise of morning,
No waters flow, except those that my flute’s soft murmur conjures.
To the grove, with melodies sprinkled like a gentle rain,
Where my twin pipes play swiftly, untouched by the limits of the horizon.
Oh shores of Sicily, in tranquil marshes I am lost,
Vanity contends with the brilliance of the sun, at such a cost.
Silent beneath shimmering blooms, let me thus narrate,
Of reeds I cut and tamed, when behold! From a distant vineyard’s gate,
A creature as pure as snow descends upon the verdant glow,
A prelude soft as pipes, like swans in flight bestow.
All inert things burn in this warm, languid hour,
Unaware of how they fled the captivating power of desire.
Now awake, primal urge, beneath the ancient flood’s embrace,
Lily! Your innocence in your gaze, true amidst the grand pace.
But beyond this sweet nothingness, beneath their brief kiss,
My heart, untouched by proof, reveals a profound mystery.
Let it be! For in the reeds we play, under the azure sky,
Turning cheeks to tremble, dreams take flight.
To amuse the beauty around, with notes that weave and sway,
Between the dream and song, love’s whispers softly play.
Oh Syrinx, by the lake where you await, blossom anew!
Proud of murmurs that speak of goddesses, in a reverent hue.
Unleash the waists of shadows, in my tales they live and breathe,
As I imbibe the brightness of the grape, dispelling sorrow.
Laughing, I raise the emptied glass beneath the summer sky,
Breathing into luminous skins, yearning until evening nears.
Oh nymphs, let us rise again, with joyful memories,
My eyes piercing through reeds, striking each immortal form I see,
Submerged in waters under the forest’s tumultuous sky,
With cries of anger and splendor, swiftly passing by.
Glorious strands of hair slipping, adorned with jewels of the brightest hues,
I hasten forth, to this bank of roses in the gentle sunlight.
All fragrances wasted, as our revelry dissipates in the shade,
Where our merriment should linger, like a day long past.
I adore you, wrathful virgins, delicate and shy,
The secret fears of flesh, from heartless foot to timid thigh.
Happy to conquer these fears, my crime is but to partake
In the gods’ mingled kisses, a passion from within.
As I conceal a laugh within one, the other burns brightly,
Yet this quarry forever flees, showing no pity in its flight.
No matter! Others lead me to joy, with tangled locks,
And ripe pomegranates buzzing with bees’ sounds.
At this hour, amid gold and ashes, the forest stirs,
A banquet amid extinguished leaves.
On Etna’s slopes, where Venus walks with effortless grace,
Sad slumber rumbles where the flames leave their trace.
I hold the queen, in an embrace of certain punishment,
No words, as my soul and heavy body yield to silence’s embrace.
Forgetting blasphemy, I surrender to noon’s proud silence,
Lying on the thirsty sand, embracing the true rush of wine.
Farewell to both of you: I depart to witness the shadows you’ve become.

:: 04.20.2024 ::


Love Is Ever Near & Forever

Oh Goddess! Hear these awkward lines, wrung
By sweet memory’s force and fond reflection,
Pardon that your secrets I have sung
Even to your tender ear’s direction:
Perchance today was but a dream, or did I spy
The winged Psyche with wide-open eye?
Through a forest I wandered, lost in reverie,
Then suddenly, struck with surprise,
I beheld two figures, side by side they lie
In deep grass, under the whispering trees
Of leaves and blooms that softly sigh,
Beside a brooklet, scarcely seen:

Among hushed, fragrant flowers, with eyes of blue,
Silver-white, budding Tyrian hue,
They rest serenely on the grass;
Their arms entwined, and wings too;
Their lips not meeting, yet no farewell,
As if parted by gentle slumber’s spell,
Yet poised to share countless kisses
At the tender dawn of love’s golden bliss:
The winged girl I knew, but who are you,
O fortunate dove, her true Psyche too!

Oh most recently born and lovely vision,
Surpassing all Olympus’ old dominion!
Fairer than Phoebe’s starry height,
Or Vesper, sky’s enamored light;
Fairer than these, though without shrine,
Nor altar decked with flowers fine;
No choir of maidens to sing through the night,
No voice, no lyre, no flute, no fragrant smoke,
From censer swung in rhythmic stroke;
No sacred grove, no oracle’s sight,
No dreams of seers in the pale moon’s light.

Oh brightest one! Though late for ancient rites,
Too late for the lyre’s devoted flights,
When forest boughs were deemed sacred,
And air, water, fire, held holy:
Yet in these days, far from joyful cries,
Your radiant wings among fading deities,
I see and sing, inspired by my own sight.
So let me be your chorus, and lament
Through the quiet hours of night;
Your voice, your lyre, your flute, your sweet incense,
From the swinging censer’s dance;
Your sacred space, grove, prophecy’s essence,
Divine dreams seen through the seer’s glance.

Yes, I’ll be your priest, and raise a shrine
In my mind’s unexplored deeps,
Where thoughts, newly formed with pleasant pain,
Murmur like pines in gentle breeze;
Far and wide, dark-clustered trees
Adorn the steep, rugged peaks;
There, amidst breezes, streams, birds, and bees,
The moss-clad Dryads find peaceful sleep;
In this vast stillness, a rosy sanctuary blooms,
Woven with the lattice of creative mind’s looms,
With buds, bells, and nameless stars that gleam,
Imaginary blooms of fanciful dreams,
Each cultivated, yet never the same;
All the gentle pleasures of elusive thought,
For you to cherish and claim,
With a bright torch and a window left unbarred,
To welcome warm Love’s flame!

:: 04.10.2024 ::


Another Mother’s Heart Breaking

One Earth one people
One chance Once choice

We are living
We are dying

So many heads
hanging lowly

hearts beating
for families

Guns, bombs,
atoms, dust
fire and death

Inside
decayed
life

All the lying
All the fear
All the failure

So mistaken
not ever knowing
we are all family

:: 03.20.2024 ::


A HUNDRED POEMS – XXXIV

In the stillness of a single moment,
Eternity suspends its breath,
And amidst the ancient whispers,
The world gently fades into the depths.

Of a new day.

Where does this ethereal melody arise?
From the depths of a beating heart,
Alive with the essence of love’s embrace,
Guiding our souls to dance their part.

Like a new morning.

We sway to the strings of destiny’s puppeteer,
Enchanted by the mystic song of love’s allure,
Shall we take flight tonight upon its wings,
Or chase the setting sun’s golden lure

Maybe for a new world.

In the twilight’s embrace, let us entwine,
As passion paints the skies in hues divine,
With every heartbeat, a symphony of “yes”,
To love’s eternal dance, we confess.

:: 03.15.2024 ::


By Divine Design

By divine design, a melody takes flight,
Like sunbeams dancing on a celestial height.

Each note, a whisper from the heavens above,
A tapestry of sound woven with love.

Fingers dance on ivory keys so white,
Translating the divine into earthly light.

 (By divine design, a melody unfolds,

A symphony within, a story untold)

Each phrase, a brushstroke on the canvas of the soul,
Unearthing emotions, making them whole.

A dance of joy, a whisper of despair,
The melody reflects the burdens we all bear.

The angels sing:

“By divine design, a melody ignites,
A journey through landscapes, bathed in starlight!”

This poem, broken writes:

“From rolling hills where gentle breezes sigh,
To mountain peaks that pierce the endless sky.
The melody evolves, a constant surprise,
Unveiling mysteries in each listener’s eyes.”

:: 03.07.2024 ::

Notes:

I express my love and soul through divine design.
The thematic depth and this poem’s ability to evoke
powerful emotions and imagery.

I write notes because after I am gone I wish the readers
to understand what I have written. I am not cheating.
I am telling you, the reader why I wrote this poem.

This written poem delves into a transformative nature
of words and music and its ability to connect individuals
on a spiritual level. The imagery of fingers dancing on
ivory keys and phrases being brushstrokes on the canvas
of the soul highlights the profound emotional and
psychological impact of music.

My poem also acknowledges the universal human experience
of joy and despair, suggesting that music has the power
to reflect and alleviate the burdens we carry.

Overall, I want to express words and music as a universal
language that transcends cultural and linguistic barriers.


Words Like Sweet Lips

In the era of constant flux, mastering the art of loss,
Each twist of fate, a digital tale,
Where shadows flicker amidst chaos

She got the white bedsheets
you got the lost heart

She gives and she takes
and you are lost

Daily, I surrender to the rush and toss,
Lost keys and wasted time, a modern travail
Mastering loss in this digital gloss

Words like sweet lips

Further I drift, speedily across,
Forgetting names, places, without fail
No catastrophe in this digital dross

Into me and i come beautiful into you

Touch lips, forget my worries for you
I often crash and forget my worries

Mother’s watch slips, a memory at loss,
Homes fade away, in the virtual veil
Mastering loss in this digital gloss

if one is one and two begs three
my haste, holding my heart close
baby, I come for you

Cities fall, realms dissolve, at a click’s toss,
Rivers dry, continents in email
Yet not a crisis, nor a digital dross

Even in losing you, our virtual gloss,
Your texts and memes, a fleeting trail
Mastering loss in this digital gloss,
Where disaster and beauty in pixels emboss

Always, if i am overboard and in haste
i hold close, you come and hug me
always like words dug up to speak for me

it’s like words

And sweet lips.

:: 02.29.2024 ::


WISDOM OF A HEART

there it once was
dreams with wings
once there was love
with joy then tears
eventually broken hearts

My wisdom whispered:

“life is beautifuL
with joy and pain
the aches of love
and despair”

So dance with the stars
and weep with the rain
for life’s sweet melody
plays both pleasure and pain

let your heart be a canvas
painted with hues of emotion
each stroke a memory
in life’s grand ocean

Embrace the chaos
in life’s swirling sea
for within the turbulence
lies profound beauty

— life.

:: 0.21.2024 ::


LET SORROW LIVE

LET love live
let sorrow die

while superstition
allows us to fall

Let us sing love
while governments fall
written upon the wall

Cradle your babies
like angels protecting you

it’s summer and the air smells
as burning children  while
we wash our face and hands

I love suddenly everyone i met
when  you believe in things
you don’t understand

half synchronicity
half native american
all we can to contain fury

the saddest song __} and you
believe in things you don’t
understand yeah

WHEN YOU BELIEVE IN THINGS
YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND —

comes superstition.

Wash your face and hands!

:: 0211.2024 ::