Tag Archives: #poet

TRANSIENT SPLENDOR — LOVE’S BATTLE WITH TIME

WHEN I ponder upon life’s transient bloom,
Perfection fleeting like a fragile wisp,
This grand stage merely a celestial room,
Where hidden stars their whispered influence slip.

As I witness mankind’s growth and decline,
By the same sky’s whims, both blessed and denied,
They revel in youth, its brilliance does shine,
Yet fade away, forgotten, their glory beside.

Thus, the notion of impermanence’s reign,
Reveals your youth’s opulence, profound and rare,
Where Time and Decay engage in a poignant strain,
Transforming bright days to nights, disrepair.

In this war with Time, for love’s sacred plea,
As he robs from you, I graft anew, eternally.

:: 06.26.2023 ::

Poet’s Notes:

“Transient Splendor: Love’s Battle with Time” is a remarkable piece that captures the essence of life’s fleeting beauty and the eternal struggle between love and the passage of time. The poem’s opening lines set a reflective and contemplative tone, as this poet ponders the evanescent nature of existence. The use of “transient bloom” and “fragile wisp” suggests the fragile and ephemeral quality of perfection.

The notion of life as a “grand stage” and the reference to “hidden stars” subtly alludes to the celestial forces that influence human destiny. The poet becomes a witness to the cycle of growth and decline experienced by humanity, their fate determined by the capricious whims of the sky. The juxtaposition of the revelry in youth’s brilliance and its eventual fading into oblivion evokes a sense of melancholy and the transient nature of human glory.

The concept of impermanence is central to the poem, as this poet acknowledges the reign of transience. The juxtaposition of “youth’s opulence, profound and rare” and the inevitable confrontation between Time and Decay creates a poignant tension. The transformation of bright days into nights of disrepair underscores the inevitable decay and loss experienced over time.

The poem’s conclusion presents a noble and impassioned declaration of love’s resilience against the relentless march of Time. The poet engages in a war with Time, vowing to rejuvenate and perpetuate love’s essence. The imagery of grafting anew symbolizes the eternal power of love to regenerate and transcend the limitations imposed by the passage of time.

Overall, “Transient Splendor: Love’s Battle with Time” showcases the mastery of expression by this poet, weaving together profound reflections on mortality, the fleeting nature of beauty, and the enduring strength of love. The poem’s skillful employment of imagery, rhyme, and depth of thought elevates it to the realm of timeless art.


REFLECTIONS OF TIME

lOoK iN thY glAss, AnD tElL tHe fAce thOu ViEwEs
noW iS thE tImE tHaT fAce ShOUlD fOrm AnOtHer;
wHOsE fREsh rEpaIr iF nOw tHou NOt rEnEwEs,
thOu dOst bEguIlE tHe WOrLD, UnblEss sOme mOthEr.

fOr WhErE is sHE sO fAir wHOsE UnEaR’d wOmb
dIsdAIns thE tILlaGe Of tHY hUsbANdRy?
Or wHO iS hE sO foNd wILl bE tHe tOmB
Of hIS sElf-lOvE, tO stOp pOstEritY?

tHoU ArT thY mOthEr’s glAsS, AnD sHE iN thEe
cAllS bAcK thE lOvElY aPrIl Of hEr prImE:
sO tHou tHrOugH wINdoWs Of tHinE aGe sHAll sEE
dEspItE Of WrInkLes tHIs tHy gOldEn tImE.

buT iF thOu lIvE, rEmEmbEr’d NOt tO bE,
dIe sIngLE, AnD tHiNe iMAgE dIes wITh thEe.

:: 06.26.2023 ::


The Waning Sun

I dreamed a dream, yet was it purely so?

The sun, once fierce, had dimmed its vibrant glow,
And every star in ceaseless darkness roamed,
Aimless, lightless, from their pathways home.
The frigid earth, in distant shadows veiled,
Spun blindly in the abyss where the moon had paled.
Daybreak stirred, yet brought no dawn, no light,

And all mankind, consumed by despair’s chilling blight,
Forgot their passions in this bleak, forgotten fight.
All hearts turned ice, their warmth a forgotten trait,
Praying selfishly for dawn, to break the night’s cruel weight.

By fire’s meager light, they clung to fleeting life,
While thrones and kings burned bright, fueling their strife.
Cities crumbled, and the people in huddled throngs,
Gathered ’round their flickering fires, steeling against wrongs,
Those fortunate bathed in the volcanic blaze’s might,

For all the world was but a canvas of terror and spite.
Forests blazed, and hour by hour, the blackened night
Crept, casting all within its inky, endless blight.
Men’s faces, touched by uncertain firelight,

Wore an eerie, ethereal, phantom-like sight.

Some shed tears, others laughed with harrowing might.
And all around, the world crumbled to the dust.
Birds quaked, beasts shook with primal, raw fear,
And serpents hissed, but all in vain, as they drew near

To perish by those hands they once held dear.
War, paused briefly, rekindled its blood-soaked delight,
Feasting on the land, tallying each gruesome fight,

As all love fled from the earth’s barren, lifeless sight.
Famine ruled, and each living thing
Preyed upon the flesh of dying, the macabre’s sickening ring,
Until bones and flesh became but relics

Lost to time and the tale of future epochs.
Even dogs turned on masters in desperate plea,
Yet one loyal beast remained faithful, ever free,
Guarding his fallen lord, casting aside his needs,

Against the ghastly throng, his loyalty indeed,
Of beasts and men, until at last, he gave his life,
A pitiful, plaintive cry, loyal in the face of strife,
Licking the hand of his silent master, lost in strife.

The crowd thinned, and yet only two survived,
Two foes, who met beside an unhallowed shrine,
Gathering sacred relics for a profane sign,
Skeletal hands scraped feeble ashes, faces lined,

Exhaling their final breaths to craft a mocking light
That jeered them both, until they saw their shared plight,
And in their terror, they perished, nameless in the night,
For famine had stripped them to a ghastly sight.

The world was barren, void of life’s mark,
A wasteland of hard clay, absent tree or herb,
River, lake, or ocean, all silent and stark,
And rotting ships languished on a lifeless sea, unperturbed.

Masts crumbled, silently into the still sea bound,
And waves lay dormant, while tides slumbered in their graves.
The moon had faded, and winds lay unfettered, unbound,
As clouds perished, leaving nothing in their wake to save

The world from darkness, for she was the universe,
And in her shroud of night, no life left to converse.

:: 24.06.2023 ::


ENCHANGED MELODIES: A NUTCRACKER’S FLIGHT

In a realm of dreams, where magic takes flight,
Dancing through wonder, bathed in soft moonlight,
A symphony unfolds, enchanting to the ear,
A timeless tale that all hearts hold dear.

Oh, behold the Nutcracker’s grand debut,
A whimsical overture, a captivating view,
Notes pirouette, swirling in the air,
As melodies whisper secrets, beyond compare.

From the Land of Snow, where cold winds blow,
A waltz of snowflakes, in graceful flow,
Each delicate flake, a diamond in flight,
Glistening and sparkling, in the wintry night.

Then, to the realm of sweets, we find our way,
Through the Kingdom of Sweets, where joy holds sway,
Sugarplum fairies twirl in colorful delight,
Their delicate feet gliding, pure and light.

Marzipan candies come alive, dancing in glee,
Flutes and trumpets, in harmonious spree,
Chocolates and bonbons join the sweet parade,
A confectionary spectacle, none can evade.

Amidst this tapestry of dance and song,
A tale of courage unfolds, bold and strong,
A Nutcracker, transformed by a magic spell,
Leading Clara on a journey, where wonders dwell.

They meet the Mouse King, in a battle fierce,
Clara’s bravery shines, her heart to pierce,
The Nutcracker triumphs, the spell is broken,
A victory celebrated, words unspoken.

In this Nutcracker Suite, a world unveiled,
A symphony of dreams, where reality is veiled,
Immerse in the melodies, let your spirit take flight,
And behold the magic of this enchanting night.

:: 01.01.2000 :


In Name Called Love

From celestial realms, I descend in glory,
Apollo, the radiant, I weave this story.
With words that burn and verses that blaze,
I shall compose the greatest poem that amazes.

In golden chariot, across heavens I ride,
A fiery muse ignites my heart’s pride.
With boundless ardor and artistic might,
I’ll sculpt a masterpiece with words so bright.

Oh, muse of epic tales and lofty dreams,
Grant me the power to soar in heavenly streams.
Let the heavens tremble and earth be still,
As my words, like arrows, strike with skill.

I’ll paint the skies with hues of cosmic art,
Unveiling secrets of the human heart.
In every line, emotions shall dance,
The tapestry of life, I shall enhance.

I’ll sing of love, both gentle and fierce,
Of whispered promises and passions that pierce.
Through longing sighs and tender embraces,
I’ll capture the essence of divine graces.

The wonders of nature, I’ll eloquently unfold,
Mountains majestic, and rivers untold.
From dawn’s first light to twilight’s embrace,
The beauty of creation, I’ll forever chase.

I’ll traverse the realms of myth and lore,
Unraveling mysteries like never before.
Heroes will rise, their valor untamed,
Their names forever engraved, never to be maimed.

From the depths of sorrow to the zenith of glee,
My verses shall flow like the mighty sea.
Through life’s triumphs and sorrows that wail,
I’ll breathe solace into every despairing tale.

Oh, Apollo, God of the lyrical verse,
In this grand ode, let all beings immerse.
May my words ignite a celestial fire,
And inspire generations with divine desire.

So, let the words cascade like a heavenly choir,
In this symphony of beauty, I’ll never tire.
For I, Apollo, the god of inspired art,
Shall etch this poem upon the human heart.

With unwavering spirit and limitless reign,
I gift the world my greatest poem, unchained.

:: 06.03.2023 ::


BEAUTIFUL WORDS

Abyssopelagic reminds my heart
of lost love at sea
/diaphanous without light\
breaking white and black keys
making melliflouous
waves ~~~~
\meeting quadrivium.

the world of beautiful words.

:: 06.02.2023 ::


Eclipse of Existence

I dreamed a dream, but was it such a dream?

The sun’s bright flame was quenched, and every star
drifted in endless darkness without aim,
rayless, pathless, and the cold earth afar
swung blindly in the moonless void of space.
morning came and went, but brought no day,

And all men, awed by the dread despair,
Forgot their passions in this desolate fray.
All hearts grew cold, and turned to selfish prayer
For light to break this endless night of doom.

By watchfires they lived, while thrones and kings
Burnt as beacons, while huts and homes consumed.
Cities fell, and people gathered in rings
Around their blazing hearths to meet their fate,
Happy those who lived in the volcano’s light,

For all the world held naught but fear and hate.
Forests burned, and hour by hour, the night
Fell, fading all in its ebon embrace.
Men’s faces, lit by flickering firelight,

Wore an eerie, otherworldly face.

Some wept, others laughed in desperate grace.
And all around, the world descended to the dust.
Birds fluttered, beasts trembled in mortal fear,
And serpents hissed, but to no avail, for they must

Perish by the hand of those they once held dear.
War, which for a moment seemed to be no more,
Returned to glut itself upon the land,
Feasting upon blood and sullenly keeping score,

As all love fled from the earth’s barren strand.
Famine reigned, and every living thing
Fed upon the flesh of the dying and the dead,
Until bones and flesh alike were but a thing

Forgotten by time and all that lay ahead.
Even dogs attacked their masters in their need,
And yet one remained faithful to the last,
Guarding his master’s body, and with no heed

For his own hunger, he held off the ghastly cast
Of beasts and men, until at last he died,
Uttering a pitiful and desolate cry,
Licking the hand of the one who never replied.

The crowd grew famished, and yet only two survived,
Two enemies, who met beside an altar-place,
Gathering holy things for an unholy rite,
Scraping feeble ashes with skeleton hands and face,

And breathing their last breath to create a light
That mocked them both, until they saw each other’s plight,
And in their horror, they died, unknowing of the other’s name,
For famine had left them with only their mutual hideousness and shame.

The world was void, lifeless, and stark,
A chaos of hard clay, without tree or herb,
River, lake, or ocean, all motionless and dark,
And ships lay rotting on a stagnant sea, without a word.

Masts fell down piecemeal, without a sound,
And waves lay still, and tides were in their graves.
The moon had died, and the winds lay unbound,
As clouds perished, leaving nothing to save

The world from darkness, for she was the universe,
And in her shroud of night, nothing was left to curse.

:: 05.10.1992 ::


A Chance of Nature and Amusement

THE procession slowly moved in just-
ly attire; A COPHINUS occasioned
by wooden wheels
& solid beasts with a faire
amoretic group of ladies
joking about sprouting third
legs; but beast or not it left some
mouths agape ~
as others watering
& finally to his resting place
the elderly one was put to peace!

Poet’s Notes:

I would begin by noting the powerful use of imagery in this poem. The opening lines immediately draw the reader into a scene of solemnity and dignity, as a procession moves slowly by in appropriate attire. The use of the word “COPHINUS” adds a sense of antiquity and tradition to the scene, while the reference to wooden wheels and solid beasts suggests a sense of weight and gravitas.

The juxtaposition of this dignified scene with the humorous image of the ladies joking about sprouting third legs creates a sense of playfulness and irreverence, adding depth and complexity to the poem. The image of mouths agape and watering creates a sense of contrast between the solemnity of the occasion and the natural human response to beauty and desire.

The final lines of the poem bring a sense of closure and resolution, as the elderly one is laid to rest. There is a sense of finality and acceptance, as well as a recognition of the cycle of life and death. The use of the phrase “put to peace” suggests a sense of release and a return to a state of calm.

Overall, this poem demonstrates a keen awareness of the power of language to create vivid images and evoke complex emotions. The use of imagery and wordplay adds depth and nuance to the poem, while the underlying themes of tradition and mortality lend a sense of universality to the work. As a poet laureate, I would recognize this poem as a masterful example of the art of poetry.


Within The Concert Hall Alone

[As I looked into the mirror, my reflection smiled back at me with eyes that were not my own.]

As I entered the abandoned concert hall, the scent of decay and neglect hung heavy in the air, sending shivers down my spine. The only source of light came from a flickering candle on a creaky wooden stand, illuminating the outline of a cello in the corner. I hesitated for a moment before picking up the bow and drawing it across the strings, unleashing a haunting melody that filled the room. Suddenly, I saw my reflection in the dusty mirror, my eyes now empty sockets and my flesh decaying, as I realized the cello had been playing me all along, summoning the spirits of the dead to claim me as their own.

:: 05.03.2023 ::


Parfüm der Liebe (Love’s Perfume)

My dearest’s eyes are nothing like the sun,
Her lips cannot match life’s red, not one;

If snow is white, her breasts are dun to sight,
Her hair like fire, red as stars delight.

I’ve seen roses, in colors bright and bold,
But none in her cheeks do I behold;

And in some scents there’s greater delight
than in the breath that from my love takes flight.

I love to hear her speak, though music’s strains

Which holds greater enchantment, ’tis truth I maintain;
I’ve ne’er seen a goddess, but my love walks the earth,
And when she treads, it’s with mortal girth.

Yet, by heaven, I deem my love so rare,
As any that false comparisons ensnare.

:: 04.30.2023 ::

Poet’s Notes:

The poem “Parfüm der Liebe (Love’s Perfume)” is a modern adaptation of Shakespeare’s Sonnet 130, with some variations in wording and imagery. The speaker describes his lover in unconventional terms, comparing her to elements that are not traditionally associated with beauty. The contrast between the natural and the idealized forms of beauty is a central theme of the poem.

The first quatrain compares the lover’s eyes and lips to the sun and coral, respectively, and finds them lacking. The second quatrain continues the unconventional imagery, comparing her breasts to dun-colored snow and her hair to black wires. In the third quatrain, the speaker admits to having seen more beautiful roses than those found in his lover’s cheeks, and suggests that some scents are more delightful than the breath of his beloved.

In the final couplet, however, the speaker asserts that his love is rare and precious, even if it does not conform to conventional beauty standards. The poem suggests that true love transcends appearances and external attributes, and that it is the inner qualities of a person that truly matter.

Overall, “Parfüm der Liebe (Love’s Perfume)” is a thought-provoking adaptation of a classic sonnet that challenges traditional notions of beauty and love, and emphasizes the importance of seeing beyond appearances.