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Monthly Archives: January 2016

His Watercolor World

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(For Sebastian)

His hands dance in wilding circles,
his brush strokes are chaotic swirls,
giving playful delight to his fancy
as he paints his watercolor world.

With basic colors of red and blue,
he blends them in a muddy array,
not intending of the final results,
but that he has his moment’s play.

A splash of yellow across the white,
he adds a dash of orange to his sun,
slapping bold strokes across the pad,
until, at last, his masterpiece is done.

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Posted by on January 31, 2016 in My Poetry

 

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A Lesser Incursion Of Sorrow

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Shall I be fair in this execution;
pray it withers not, but with time,
in all the flavors of its resolution,
to fall amid this blackened rhyme,
that bear witness to sullen verse,
and mayhap sway the human herds,
that, with pittance, may reimburse
my soul imbued within these words;
or shall I, with wonder, follow suit,
as better arts have stained my mind,
to write of joy, and not bitter fruit,
thus soliloquy dare not be unkind;
but, nay, this verse must be its due,
what vast cost pay, or thinly borrow,
I shed these words of mindset true,
not lend to cause, but light to sorrow.

 
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Posted by on January 30, 2016 in My Poetry

 

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In Fade

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The memory of you is all but lost;
I scarce recall now your sweet lips,
the kiss of your last waking moment,
when your eyes left mine to far away,
and your hand waned its tender hold.

The tide of your last mournful farewell;
the shudder in your breath as you spoke,
the tremble of your heart as it lay dying
beneath the fragile breast of your exhale,
when the sky became your only destiny.

I shan’t have again your warm embrace;
ne’er shall I taste the wet of your mouth,
nor bear the weight of your wanton gaze,
nor shall my eyes e’er trace your beauty,
but a rose on your grave is left to me now.

The fading memory of all that you were;
the dulcet lyric of your voice calling me,
the reach of your last breath in longing,
the whisper of your eyes as you lay still,
no more shall I find such ardent measure.

I look to the sky now, and gaze at stars;
with pleasured hope, I beg their mercy,
that in the light of a billion orbs of fire,
may ‘ere be but a glimmer of your soul
that may touch soft upon me once more.

 
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Posted by on January 30, 2016 in My Poetry

 

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The Opulence Of Words

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The clatter of metal zippers
being pummeled wild against
the rotating barrel of the dryer
in a swirl of heated clothing
as they scuffle and grapple
the tide of laundry therein;
the echoed hum of the motor,
witnessed with ambient display,
as I try to write these words,
putting an assemblage of form
to the constant vague torrent
of merely oft trivial imagery
which supplicates my thoughts
as flashes of light or sound,
played viciously in a doldrum
of semi-conscious deferments,
only to be vented throughout
as with the hastily clad armor
which I now call this verse;
and what style of mockery
or maddening enterprise
shall these procurements
thus render in whole or part
to the untrained philosopher
who may, by some chance,
be at my beckoned display;
here and now, in wondering,
there is the sight of revelation,
though not in any triumph
of this restrained collaboration,
for it has no beginning or end,
except to surmise its creation
and better its foundling purpose;
yet, this too, is but meandering.

 
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Posted by on January 29, 2016 in My Poetry

 

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At The Water’s Edge

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At the water’s edge, a ripple plays,
its resounding circles drift far aside;
some creature’s plunge of unseen gaze,
now breaks the stillness in gentle tide.

At the water’s edge, ‘ere reeds are cast,
piercing the liquid glass of this lake;
in shadowed crest, ‘ere algae holds fast,
the minnows run with sunless wake.

At the water’s edge, a breath of spring,
a pirate lily, stretched o’er the surface,
touches the water with its tendril fling,
and plies to water’s edge its purpose.

 
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Posted by on January 29, 2016 in My Poetry

 

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Fall

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So this is what it feels like to fall;
down, down, still farther into death,
ceaseless descent, unearthly recall,
where even a scream has no breath.

And where has reach to grab hold;
shapeless walls as pale as ghosts,
downward into hollows, only cold,
steel remittance of faceless hosts.

Downward, like a boulder in the sea;
no tide be stilled, no time for amend,
infinite fall, as vacuous it should be,
only farther down, no bridge, no end.

No record of dying, no mark of birth;
light fails quickly, now lost to the sky,
devoid of this, I have no hold on earth,
but instead, this endless fall as I die.

 
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Posted by on January 29, 2016 in My Poetry

 

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Thy Gilded Wraith

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With thy gilded wraith, I spirit thee;
cast thy undying beauty in my mind,
‘ere thy pallor may be less defined;
in dimensions beyond human stay,
‘ere thy exhumed caress does play;
with thy gilded wraith, I spirit thee.

With wildest abandon, I cherish thee;
let mountains crumble and earth quake,
as our spirits merge for passion’s sake;
let these rogue shadows dare not deny,
as they be cast upon floorboards awry;
with wildest abandon, I cherish thee.

With awakening dreams, I covet thee,
let thy peasant hopefuls be unrequited,
‘ere no mere mortal be thus delighted;
thy fame of tenderest mercies played,
in wretched ruin, thy pleasures made;
with awakening dreams, I covet thee.

With immaculate gaze, I fondle thee;
o’er sinewy curves unrivaled in form,
but to touch thy flesh to find it warm;
in throes of ardor, thy lips have stains,
thus unto my eyes, what sight remains;
with immaculate gaze, I fondle thee.

 
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Posted by on January 28, 2016 in My Poetry

 

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