2lullabyhaven
2 to be or not to be a 2b pencil!
lead hits the paper and poetry
underlines the emotions scribbled -
love's smile curls in the letters,
lavish characters spiral the spirit
as laughter dances across
bones; strong and sure in life,
yesterday's verse winks at today,
hands fold personality, neatly,
along the chuckles of beauty,
visionary particles swirl in eyes,
each open colour sings,
now the day begins with joy.
Author notes
for my dear friend pat : )
(written by my good friend - the master poet -individuality)
http://allpoetry.com/Weltt (Weltt, so graciously allowed me to post this piece written by him on 5/23/08) Thank you so much, kind Sir A Dormant Beauty Involuntary fluttering for lust of light desire's wings ignite glowing embers intensify, emerging butterfly in flight
A moment in me {an introspection}
Calmness;
Numbed by yesterdays confusion,
Astounded by tomorrows stupidity.
The hurricane of my life stills...
...and I think... Written by; The poet - Clarity Of Vision (thank you so much-such a grand write)
These are the winners of my "Hit me with your best shot" contest
(One liners) I thought they were particularly good.
Silver winner; http://allpoetry.com/poem/3061836
Honorable Mention; http://allpoetry.com/poem/3053016
Honorable Mention; http://allpoetry.com/poem/3053016
Honorable Mention; http://allpoetry.com/poem/3016324
Honorable Mention: http://allpoetry.com/poem/3016324Honorable Mention; http://allpoetry.com/poem/3016324
Hello to all the poets here. I am exceptionally proud to be a part of this fine community of poets. To express myself, and to enjoy the expressed expressions of you all. I have a lot to learn and some more to grow, so let the journal begin!
- Last seen 1 day ago. Member since February 21, 2007.
- I'm a each moment poet for 9516 comments.
- My mood is , and quote is Riding the waves is all the rage. .
- I am a woman from Wisconsin (United States)
- When I'm not writing, I'm In deep contemplation!.



















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(275)- I am in the groups Chocolate eating peg leg pirate groupies, In All This Chaos We Found Safety
- I have 9516 comments, 91 contests
Poems I'm focused on
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I need you to love me, my dear, not from the realms of fear.
I want for you to admire me, not because to you I am so dear. -
Some folk decide to tangle a la mode
I'd rather focus on the picture's whole -
Been in the tunnel awfully long.
Buried my joy and my merry song.25 lines, 28 comments, April 30. In Personal -
His Lexis and his Mercedes Benz / His mansions and all upon which he depends / His Phd's and social status / His mountain tops and all his66 lines, 83 comments, June 9, 2007
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Are you not all that all can be / Are you not my hope and destiny / In between each page of my life / I give you worship and sacrifice / Up
Active Contests
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Simplicity that's fraught with complexity lol whatever that means...hahaha
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My first 'word bank' hahaha
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Paint me a touristical picture lol
My Poetry
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I miss the composite sparkle of the eyes. The ready smile of the twingling lips.
My wall
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individuality on June 4

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individuality on May 29Strength's Agility
Freedom spirals across time's fine beauty,
impossible dreams flap reality
while humanity slips insanity
to smiles of delicious simplicity,
complexity fades into history.
In colours of spirituality
glide a rainbow's sweet possibility,
to face cold loneliness and still feel free
with mankind's cool reflected vanity,
inside the heart there's no perplexity.

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individuality on May 9up in smoke book file but nit in book form

01 - Up In Smoke
02 - The Date - Collaboration with Melodies
03 - Violent Looks
04 - A Bitter Scented Kiss
05 - Sexual Energy
06 - Demons Scour Freedom's Bones
07 - Wisdom Slides Down Artistry
08 - On The Cusp Of A Dream
09 - Wallflower
10 - Cross-Stitched Kisses
11 - A Romantic Capacity
12 - Another Wasted Section Hyperventilates
13 - As Wide As The Grave's Excitement
14 - An Old Wives' Tale
15 - The Ghost Of Integrity
16 - A Green Card
17 - Foreign Pearls And Diamonds
18 - Sighs Travel Moonbeams
19 - Love Performs Pirouettes
20 - Impassive Shadows
21 - Former World Boxing Champion Finds God
22 - Visions Which Tingle The Stomach
23 - Melodies' Streak Of Good Fortune
24 - Musical Precision
25 - The Floor's Patterned Avenues
26 - As Snug As A Bug In A Rug
27 - Somersaults And Smiles
28 - In The Throes Of Limbo
29 - Adventurous Humanity
30 - Coloured Realms - Collaboration with Melodies
31 - Mildew
32 - Carnivorous Instinct
33 - A Proud Smile
34 - The Sky's Shrieks Of Passion
35 - A Blossomed Garland
36 - Silence Splits Hairs
37 - Pungent Twists Of Bitter Winds
38 - Strands Of Beauty
39 - Shoulders Shrug
40 - Rancid
41 - Devoured By Gods
42 - Delicious Wisps
43 - Nature's Glamour
44 - Creativity
45 - Spiders Of The Future
46 - A Flame's Ignition
47 - Your Spirit
48 - Melodies' Cream Cake Disaster
49 - Mr Wind
50 - Gardens Of Perception
Up In Smoke
An instantaneous moment is caught
within the eye's peripheral vision,
combustible concern casually
careens into sparkled indifference
as random selection ignites the chair,
with a smoker's harsh cough for company
and nicotine dreams at the back of mind
flames crack their wings with delicious laughter.
There's a second of realisation
below the fear of death's internal rage,
tobacco's cylindrical bright-lit want
stares need in the face with thin manic greed,
the price of addiction goes up in smoke,
blue-curled vapour seeks organic matter
with pleasant alacrity while paper
hopes wither in suspended animation.
The Date - Collaboration with Melodies
I am dating myself and love is grand!
I even like to hold my hand!
Sometimes I have romantic meals on wheels,
and it's usually jellied eels -
when in the mood for love I wear high heels,
I get so drunk I can not stand.
Violent Looks
I left myself on the street's rhythmic beat,
a coloured graffito's initial pause,
with a flourish of bright independence
an artistic deliverance contained
expression's informative creation.
Aggressively unconventional scenes
considered the highs and lows of delight
as youth spiked musical anarchy's curve,
the modern world's inspirational flux
collided with violent looks of culture,
society's mannerisms stuttered
alarm rang the bells of pointless freedom.
And here are the present's bitter moments,
stuck in the rut of progression's eclipse.
A Bitter Scented Kiss
An intimate network of personal
salvation lies in ruins; within flames
of yesterday's internal character,
on the sharp edge of an idle angel
a wingspan of time's twisted regret maims
wisdom's lifeline with a violent scripture.
Damnation's road leads to chaotic waves,
perdition's dark is not the depth that saves
this spirit which swerves through anarchy's cold,
this heart that beats with a bright light; so bold.
Stuttered alarm bleeds personality
while deranged expectations crash the mind,
and here are the moments of crazy bliss,
blended into laughter's shrewd sanity;
ragged with sanctuary's promised wind
blowing freedom a bitter scented kiss.
Tomorrow's a world away as this breath
reaches into the swirled vortex of death,
I could have been free but these chains hold fast,
perhaps dawn's horizon will be my last.
Sexual Energy
A strumpet of the finest calibre,
there are no pennies in her lavish life,
she will go down and lick around the world
if you grace her purse with a high class pound,
engaged to promiscuous intercourse,
a harlot of sexual energy,
she's a woman who loves personal gain,
a lady who'll never give charity,
so please work hard to earn plenty of cash,
spend it wisely on an age old talent
and whore yourself to courtesan's smile.
Don't look down on her while creating sighs,
her profession is as noble as time,
respect her wild artistic behaviour,
she's a trollop of beautiful nature.
Demons Scour Freedom's Bones
Wings perform dark celestial orders
while subordinate beings flutter life
across fields of flowers; deceased petals
rot conventional representations,
there are spiritual sights waiver rights
on the horizon's colourful beauty -
sighs splice destructive actions into clouds
full of heavy attributes; sparkled sin.
Fiendish motivation sprinkles self-doubt
over humanity's restless visions
as sleep curls minds into false prophecy,
within the folded flames of Hell's portals
demons scour freedom's virtuous bones,
there's no escape from Satan's manic laugh.
Wisdom Slides Down Artistry
Laughter rests in pleasure's satisfaction,
eyes dart through intellectual nature;
so many shades of beautiful delight,
she's a wonderful figure of woman
whose lithe movement is a living sculpture,
dance wild love into the realms of the night.
He's a spiritual bolt of lightning
who captures precious stanzas on his tongue,
poetry's wisdom slides down artistry
as he opens thought's spectacular wings,
in rhythmic beats of heart there is a song
that collides with another's sweet journey.
Together they create emotion's sparks,
desire travels down a welcome course,
there's room to spin threads of gentle silence
while kisses gracefully fly up to arcs;
sensuality's passionate life-force,
a colourful display of pure brilliance.
On The Cusp Of A Dream
Soft transparent features flutter bright sighs,
a snow-white sensation in love's cool grace,
painted reflections catch truth and light lies,
she will smile then vanish without a trace.
Lashes of colour decorate soft skin
as her eyes look inward towards warm dreams;
a peaceful passage to erase all sin,
there is a journey full of wild extremes.
Wonder slips hearts admiration's beauty
when spiritual visions fly to stars,
she's a passionate blend of poetry
that recites body language's memoirs.
Watch her splash circles in time's vast ocean
with kisses which lead right into Heaven.
Wallflower
Scented wild petals
fluttered sociability,
wallflower lashes
watched the scenery shimmer
as dreams collided
with opportunity's smile,
a graceful windswept
moment caught hold of shyness;
words in dancing eyes,
soft personality ran
across nervous sighs,
uncomfortable ripples
spread fear's dominance,
it was the time to retreat
for love would not bow
while stutters of sorrow curled
up in the spirit -
lonely colours that pulsate,
heartbeats scatter light.
Cross-Stitched Kisses
In love's intricate design
a brand new colour's woven,
hints of orange sip mauve texture.
Tactile characteristics thread
warmth's visual embroidery,
friction materialises with waves
of passionate motion.
Wonder's a heartbeat away
as lips sew cross-stitched kisses
into the lining of Heaven's grace.
A Romantic Capacity
I shall not allow another person
to become close to me ever again;
within a romantic capacity -
from now on, virtual friendship only
will be the curls which I slip myself in,
there is too much paranoia involved
and jealousy for such love to blossom.
Simplicity is the key to online
relationships and for genuine smiles,
depression is hard enough as it is
without adding to the fray of it all,
decisions have to be made when the light
is a positive sparkled beam of time;
to digest life's pros and cons that twirl us.
Another Wasted Section Hyperventilates
As culture drips from the nervous system,
communication's derelict gestures
perform poetry behind the eyes;
a wide-open swirled coloured confusion -
sobriety's jaunt into language halts
as stutters of stoned expressions escape
the confines of fantasy to roam need,
and toes tap musical shivers through want
while the pen folds reality's paper-
thin flames into neat little squares of time.
Imagination spins structure across
the mind's super highways of broken thought,
personality collects style's earthquakes
then runs under dreams which untangle love,
cleanliness is next to nothing as verse
spills eternity's quiet retched notions.
I'm an opinion; distorted by my
own reflection's dishevelled quality,
forever strutting self-imagery's hate,
and persistent fingers grab the frayed strings
of sentences as bones crack arrangement,
bright lit spiritual mannerisms
consider stanzas while Hell taunts Heaven
with motivation's conventional signs,
perhaps a poem will be quickly birthed
or maybe another wasted section
shall hyperventilate and die in pain.
As Wide As The Grave's Excitement
An extra sensory overload's spark
communicates with a telepathic
high explosive delivery's bubble;
and the world inverts as time crawls along
skin which melts into confusion's action -
reanimated notions strangle tones,
colour coordinated assassins
strike reality with jagged edged knives,
it's a long way down to the shimmered ground,
a spiral's twist away in slow-motion,
space will distort with ease, wondrous panic.
Inexplicable reason abandons
dreams as hallucinatory wisdom
propels itself into hollow delight,
high fives stretch themselves across open stares;
pupils as wide as the grave's excitement.
Viscous vehemence slides from the lips; dry leaves
of the future's vicious wild promises.
What goes up must surely snap back and sting,
it's a dangerous vision of manic
simplicity that goads with pleasure's silk
wrapped ribbons of delicious deception.
An Old Wives' Tale
Cloudlets splatter a weathered view,
St Swithin's Day promises rain,
The sun's bright presence has withdrew,
Grey skies for forty days will reign,
An old wives' tale perhaps is true,
if it rains then it will remain.
The Ghost Of Integrity
As the night's sparkled breeze spilled stars across
the sky, dreams of love fluttered from soft moans,
his heart caught her train of thought while moonlight
performed a sullen opera; twisted
notes of rippled insanity's freedom,
and he wondered where she had vanished to
as buttered breath slipped down his restless soul -
visionary beauty snarled blue romance,
sorrow erupted from sleep's waved farewell.
A crash of delicious anxiety
cracked the cool atmosphere with a terse bolt
of personality as tears stung cheeks;
blushed knowledge steamed ire from her deep brown eyes,
time sliced adultery into sections,
manageable moments that sizzle fire -
she was underneath the promise of dawn,
quietly shaking guilt from her spirit,
but coloured dishonesties clung like lust,
birdsong tortured pleasure's hostility,
whispered emotion's juxtaposition
curled inside the ghost of integrity
as his body pleaded with her to stay,
and the voice of reason juggled sharp knives
in the distant horizon's swirl of red -
as their kiss transformed butterflies to fear
she cried within and pulled away from him,
an embrace flittered into history
without a pause or a quick backwards glance,
and silence pursued her trails of sadness,
passion's arrival bled departure's tears
as the emergence of light screamed goodbye.
A Green Card
You forgot to mention you were married
when offered a diamond engagement ring,
perhaps it slipped your mind when I went down
on one knee to propose that we get wed?
You forgot too to say that you had debt,
and that my gift of true love would clear it,
maybe your intentions were of money,
but mine were full of romantic delight.
You forgot to tell me of your desire
to have a sex change operation too,
my God woman what crazy lies you weave,
now this heart is broken beyond repair.
Oh yes, by the way I forgot to say
that I am not really a millionaire,
I come from the slums of Nigeria,
it was a green card I wanted, boo hoo!
Foreign Pearls And Diamonds
As cold sunlight filtered through our embrace,
a windswept look unfolded in your eyes,
architectural characteristics
flew across the space between us and blinked
as a kiss slipped into history's curls,
at that precise moment I knew love's ache;
the wings of an angel burnt by God's glance.
There was doubt wrapped up within blue silk lace,
it opened with casual fluttered sighs,
every detail revealed with fine graphics
showed that our romance would soon be extinct,
your voice held bright diamonds and foreign pearls
as you spoke with departure's wild earthquake -
I witnessed loneliness make its entrance.
Sighs Travel Moonbeams
With a delicate twirled motion I slip
another chocolate laced kiss in her dreams -
she flutters wise eyes while I watch sleep dance
love across coloured halls of white romance,
a smile curls up on the curve of her lips
as spiritual sighs travel moonbeams;
silver simplicity's soft rippled streams.
Love Performs Pirouettes
Sighs
disturb
soft silence
as visions crash
against character;
personal traits
that linger
in mind,
love
performs
pirouettes
in the ballet
of complexity,
poetry's lips
blow kisses,
time fades
out.
Impassive Shadows
His stoic attitude scintillated
as eyes wrapped cold anger's rhythmic descent,
frantic twists of independence sailed winds;
propelled by a violent thunderous look,
it was a moment on the edge of time,
infinity stretched enthusiasm
while a lightning smile quickly covered tracks.
Without a second's pause passion withdrew,
folded itself into wild flowered scenes
of yesterday's unavoidable realms.
The world spun imagination onwards,
visions intermingled with freedom's voice
as days gathered up impassive shadows,
necessity strangled hope's fine wisdom.
FORMER WORLD BOXING CHAMPION FINDS GOD
It has emerged, from a source close to the former world heavyweight boxing champion Mike Tyson, that the once aggressive boxing personality has found God.
Tyson, the youngest man to have won a boxing world heavyweight title belt, has renounced his former life and glories. Earlier today our news reporter Emerald Lasso, spoke to 'Kid Dynamite' or 'Iron Mike' as he prefers to be called, this is what he had to say:
"Um, er yeah man, I was taking the er trash out as I normally do on a er Wednesday evening, and a voice from what appeared to be from um er nowhere spoke to me, saying I should see the er light like. When I looked er around I noticed a fish head er staring at me with blue sparks dancing from its er eyes. It was then I realised it was God, and a little green man stepped from the er fish head's bones. I'd show him to you but er apparently only I can see him!"
So there you have it folks, God was living in 'Iron Mike' Tyson's trash but has now moved in with the former heavyweight world boxing champion.
A spokesman for Evander Holyfield, who lost part of his ear to 'Iron Mike' had this to say:
"What!"
Has 'Iron Mike' finally lost his marbles? Has he really found God in his trash? Is God green? All these questions are up in the air tonight, and the world is watching in amazement.
Visions Which Tingle The Stomach
Love opens her legs with sure smiles dripping
from lips; so luscious and wet with beauty -
there are songs which dance on the tongue's express,
high notes scream with passionate desire
as kisses capture rivers of wonder,
pure sensuality; honey wrapped bliss,
melting visions which tingle the stomach.
And swallows flap musical wings down throats
while sighs flip moans onto the bed's colour;
a blushful dream that flutters energy
across mind-fields of sexuality--
let the light of poetry cascade rays
while she comes to her senses in Heaven.
Melodies' Streak Of Good Fortune
The dawn's open eyes caught a wild surprise,
Melodies ran naked under her skies,
And all of the neighbours were fast asleep
As she sprinted down lanes shouting 'Beep! Beep!'
With a glint of light catching her bright smile
She ran for just another golden mile,
But close to the sea blushes swept her face
For a cat with a red sock saw her grace -
As bare as the day on a vacation,
Melodies ran towards the train station,
Hoping that there she would find a way home,
Where she could relax in a bath of foam.
Musical Precision
In the shade of an eclipse a crash drapes
a dark lacerated time-lapse moment;
serenity explodes in florescent
shivers of lightning notions, the wind screams.
There's a lisp that licks perception's bright eye
as knowledge gathers the rational thin curve
of the horizon's coloured suspicion -
it's beaten senseless as quick confusion
ejaculates a philosophical
lament across the sky's sanguine drama.
Dawn's dignity clashes with dusk's layers
while humanity sulks in limbo's dream,
a distressed depression which lingers on
the promise of a shadow's quiet length.
Heaven and earth collide with musical
precision; notes of distinctive wisdom,
it's a brief spell of sorrow that abducts
the souls under the realm of nature's dress,
with a clap of character she speeds up
and visions of doom are replaced by hope.
The Floor's Patterned Avenues
The night's a manifestation of love,
each section of shade is a heartbeat's swerve
as possibility's perceptible
change drinks the stars that sprinkle the spirit -
every curve of accessible language
weeps with the approach of dawn's violent kiss.
And the city sleeps with buttoned up hope,
roofs slant into visionary distance
as minds collect romantic escapades,
there's a full moon tint in eyes that walk roads,
feet splash the sky's demeanour without pause
while sighs wander in between the flowers
printed on her favourite dress; crumpled
on the floor's patterned avenues of sleep.
As Snug As A Bug In A Rug
I bought a map of the world today,
it was the pattern in my new rug,
I can travel to other countries
without letting go of my beer mug -
there's Florida's beach where I can play,
or I could go to see some Mounties,
before I went to visit Norway,
then to Vacaville for a quick hug,
that's a place in the U.S. of A.
it's full of hippies from the sixties,
I jest, it is a corner so snug,
where my friend lives and I'm from the U.K.
Vacations I can take any day,
now I'm off to frolic with monkeys.
Somersaults And Smiles
In the quick chaotic continuance
of silence's ambiance there's a pause -
where violent noise slips inside the mind's folds,
atmospheric deterioration,
the intellect is bombarded by shades
of disorder; a featured light captures
a cold caricature with subtle ease,
this ludicrous character spills laughter
into dreams of stagnant reality,
schizophrenic slices of love catch hate
in the heart's quiet ghost story rhythm,
and within the mercy of loneliness
strange reflections bounce off solitude's walls,
perhaps the glass will break if it's disturbed
by emotional somersaults and smiles.
In The Throes Of Limbo
The dawn blinks songs as I awake and build
my territory for the day; routine
manoeuvres which keep a comfortable
peace in the mind's chaotic assembly -
another ritual is accomplished
as time walks along the curved horizon,
distance is picnic away in thought,
the night folds clouds into reclusive shapes,
and tidy spaces are never disturbed.
With careful fingered precision words screech
through artistic notions; relaxation
and creativity's experience -
there's a quick wind of unanswered questions
that flap imagination like a soul
in the throes of limbo's occupied bliss.
Adventurous Humanity
Shades of solitude rush across the sky -
horizon's illusion scrapes the eye's calm
with orange swirls; an indefinite curl
of the future's stark promise of warm wealth.
A mountainous claw of reality;
cold confusion and personal nightmares,
grips the light of stars as they twist desire
into waves of brutal imprisonment.
It's a dream on the lips that spirals out,
space absorbs it before expanding arms
of colourful spirits; lost in motion,
the tones of expression flitter away
while artistic musings strangle vessels
full of adventurous humanity.
Coloured Realms - Collaboration with Melodies
As the sun swirled its light across the dawn, James collected his thoughts, he was smiling to himself with recollections of the previous night's antics at the party when it struck him, the light was the wrong colour. As he focused more on it other slight alterations fluttered past his peripheral vision, there was an extra hour on the clock's face and the bedroom door was in the wrong place. He quickly dressed and got the biggest shock of the morning as he caught his reflection, his hair was longer, his face fatter and he was sure he was slightly smaller than he should be.
"What's going on?" He whispered, but there was no answer to be found in the mirror's curves.
Rising dread welled up in James' stomach and a feeling of confusion and panic swept over him. He walked out into the hallway and quickly left his building as if to assure himself that outside his flat everything was as it should be. It was not.
The park across the street was no longer a park but was a car dealership. James looked both ways as he crossed the road, noting that the vehicles he saw were oddly different than he had ever noticed. Where was the park?
His confusion was compounded by the way he felt as he walked. His legs felt oddly stiff. Was he ill? Delusional? Having a nightmare? Insane? James walked into the car dealership lot and sat down on a bench outside the office. Suddenly the ground seemed to sway and tilt slightly.
A memory resurfaced, of the party the night before, how Sarah had brought a strange piece of jewellery and asked if he could open it. After that everything seemed to shift, as if the world had been shaken, he wondered why he was only recalling it now and fought to remember more of last night's events, but nothing would come, only the last seconds and then waking up this morning. He found himself back in the car lot and noticed people were beginning to notice him, one woman came closer and spoke to him. He stared back in horror as he realised he could not understand a word she had said. It was then that the sky caught fire, a green light sparkled and he remembered the jewellery had a jade stone at its centre.
The memory of an emerald flashed through his consciousness as the sky exploded with a rainbow of colours and James fainted. When he awakened it was night and he was sitting on a bench in the park. He suddenly felt himself again and as he stood up his legs felt young and strong. He strode back across the street to his flat where he sank gratefully on his sofa.
Sarah smiled to herself as she closed the emerald into the jewel's base and thought how she would use James to get the companion to it, only he could travel into the other dimension, though she possessed the jewel, only one who loved her could cross over into its realm, though he must never know why he was there, only that he had to be. It was a tricky situation, but she was confident he would serve her well, and if not, there were others that loved her she could use. With a sigh she closed her eyes, tomorrow was going to be a busy day, sleep was needed.
Mildew
In heart and mind there's a debate;
the swirls of truth collect the lies,
spiritual colours sedate,
in heart and mind there's a debate.
Love's solemn sighs do not placate
this dark anguish which deftly flies,
in heart and mind there's a debate;
the swirls of truth collect the lies.
With wild visions blood flows like wine,
down the ragged dawn's sky so blue,
there are shades of hunger; malign,
with wild visions blood flows like wine.
I search the self for a lifeline,
but only find death's white mildew,
with wild visions blood flows like wine,
down the ragged dawn's sky so blue.
The sun blends into a bright moon
as sorrow wipes its tired eyes,
aches of time are violently strewn,
the sun blends into a bright moon.
Silence gathers below hate's dune
while wonder seeks its own demise,
the sun blends into a bright moon
as sorrow wipes its tired eyes.
Vast pools of artistic delight
sing blue songs which I then dismiss,
the stars shine warmth within the night;
vast pools of artistic delight.
With whispered tones my dreams recite
the wisdom found within a kiss,
vast pools of artistic delight
sing blue songs which I then dismiss.
Carnivorous Instinct
Lithe flesh
bristles with hair
as retractile claws slice
the prey's quiet pleas for mercy
again.
Open
carnivorous
instinct shrieks with power
while death collects remnants of life
in jaws.
Wildcat
eyes devour
the night's progressive calls
and slips into the long shadows
to wait.
A Proud Smile
A tender scene nurses youthful delight
while tones of expression swiftly stand still -
soft maternal instinct giggles in eyes;
open splendour below time's special sigh,
there's love in between shades of black and white
where passionate moments are embraced with skill.
The future's warm promise waits in the wings
of generosity and wisdom's curled thought -
Tara's sweet swirled authority nurtures
Shelby's perfect phenomenal features,
memory's balanced on artistic swings
of a proud smile that is deliciously caught.
The Sky's Shrieks Of Passion
There are poems; fluttering about thoughts
like tender wings of delicate kisses -
lips grace magical moments with beauty
then explode into light's coloured wonder.
Slow-motion scenes unfurl love's performance
as nocturnal pleasure rests in the dip
of warm rhythmical sensuality,
words catch hold of movement's delightful sound.
Across the sky's shrieks of passion I glide
with the wind's perfumed personality,
silence is a breath away if needed;
to curl up the songs that dance with bright smiles.
Here the spirit is as vast as pure time,
and as deep as moments swirling in eyes.
A Blossomed Garland
Streaks of speckled light catch your hair's volume
as clouds tenderly collect the sky's thoughts;
coloured memories which sprinkle spirits -
trails of summer pursue a dream's phantom
into realms of wild tears; fearfully caught,
while the coming night paints distraught portraits.
The heart's contention struggles with the self,
chasms of violent opportunity -
love slips to the wayside to shed her skirts,
heroes whisper secrets of ragged wealth
as the mind seeks out its sanctuary,
the heavens crash dark musical concerts.
Tomorrow's a vision drawn in the sand;
forever shifting with dark subtle winds,
there are bright flowers that wilt in the eyes,
where once a delicious blossomed garland,
a song that travelled the skin now rescinds,
in quiet loneliness lives solemn sighs.
Silence Splits Hairs
Sighs spill yesterday through poetry's smile;
an open gesture full of wondrous scenes,
time shakes seconds across sorrow's beauty
as goodbye flutters personality
above tomorrow's creative visions -
all I can see is the enemy's camp
creeping slowly towards admiration,
and doors close in the face of cool delight.
Silence splits hairs in communication
as character vanishes in a haze;
colours that shimmer along love's soft space,
in the blink of an eye I slip away.
Pungent Twists Of Bitter Winds
In an alcoholic haze I capture
self-imagery; reflections distort smiles
while melancholy thoughts collapse sweet sighs -
and breath roams pungent twists of bitter winds,
spiralled indulgence laughs at restraint's curves,
it's a downward slide that reaps the echoes
of the mind's swirls of intoxicated
blissful disorientation; whispers
collide with yesterday's dank frustration.
I'll scream and shout the spirit's discomfort
as another liquid vision erupts
with chaotic wisps of violent colour;
there's no escape from sorrow's agony -
no redemption from the mirror's splinters
that slice wild dreams with a delicious ease,
destruction's course opens strange avenues,
and as ever I break relationships
with silence and paranoia's ribbons.
Strands Of Beauty
Flowered scenes stalk the afternoon's bright glow:
cold light gathers summer's wistful decay,
medicinal properties wave green leaves
into the fold of mind's ragged plateau,
it's another sliver of time; the day
captures hold of the night's shadowy thieves.
Strands of beauty careen across the sky
as delicious smiles stretch themselves on clouds
of coloured dreams; aspects of the self's pause,
artistic musings wander through the eye,
an open portion of sanity's shrouds,
and with twisted fingers I clutch at straws.
Shoulders Shrug
In the cliché of rose petal heartache
dreams whisper deep red songs which blacken sighs -
love mirrors warm hate within stained-glass ice;
a pale forest of longing that melts souls,
and magical sparks drag cold impatience
across the sky's neglected wisps of time.
Hope's creativity wilts quietly
while the shoulders shrug away yesterday,
tomorrow's just a blur in the corner,
skulking along the shades of impression.
Rancid
Poetry circles expand emotion;
there's no room for the individual
to open creativity's vortex,
just run along the mill and be content
with attacks on other spirits that hate.
I'll never let another in this world,
for undesirables to pick the flesh
of thoughts which run wild in artistic fields -
fuck off and flap those hungry mouths elsewhere,
the decay that drips from teeth is rancid.
Devoured By Gods
Even if I never see your beautiful features;
for I am blinded by the truth of love's wild desire,
I shall always find your spirit in the dreams I cast
with gentle delight.
Come to the garden which I tend with passionate sighs,
set free the petals of heartache and fly high with me
across billows that drift in the sky's magnificence,
I pine for your touch.
Now is the time for us to be devoured by Gods,
Angels can play their instruments of eternal pain,
we will be together in the realms of wondrous space;
our lives will not fade.
Delicious Wisps
As desire twirls her hair in love's presence,
passion folds paper into hearts which swoon,
there are shapes that flutter smiles in the wind
as eyes collide reflections of colour,
open ribbons of magical currents
flatter beauty's spirits so much in tune
with each other's dreams that spiral the mind,
quiet wonder shares life's luscious laughter.
Ancient sighs gather starlight's welcome rays
while time runs through space with delicious wisps
that curl the kisses left upon the tongue,
with a generous dance lovers step in bliss,
shoulders sink in waves of delightful days,
lips gently part to capture silent lisps;
sparkles of wild wisdom that rest among
angels that sing - life's full of scenes like this.
Nature's Glamour
The cautious, quiet cat stepped forward gingerly
as the lizard opened one eye and flicked its tongue,
like a ballerina; full of grace, she fiercely
swooped down a sharpened claw before she ran along
the shimmered space where only moments earlier
the reptile stood in the light of nature's glamour.
Creativity
Perhaps
a break's needed
from creativity -
I'm sick and tired of people,
and views.
Spiders Of The Future
A profoundly tender moment spins stars in its wake
as the wings of passionate affection flap desire
across the space between this sparkled predilection,
sweet silent love; interactive enthusiasm.
Gathered history opens her arms wide for time
to drift along the currents of beautiful scenes,
there are no shadows to confuse the emotions,
only fast light and wonderful smiles that dance breath.
Truth weaves lies into spiders of the future,
it's all the colour needed in life's wisdom,
and escapism floats away into dreams
while cool reality sips from clouds that curl.
Imagination's streaks of purple warmth
collect the visions which twirl thoughts around
fingers of pleasure; hair stroked with purpose,
the promise of tomorrow meets today.
A Flame's Ignition
Lazy days crash against musical nights,
soft tones touch the light of history's smiles
and frowns that spin time's anticipation.
Here in the folded notions I find love,
surrounded by sparks of generous dreams,
there's a flame's ignition in the spirit.
Long summer shadows stretch themselves over
the heart's delicious finery and fade -
though their presence remains inside this mind.
Butterflies and angels flip flowered songs
along visionary highways of silk,
strands of passion which twist in God's cool breath.
Your Spirit
Catch the light of Heaven in your own time,
don't let others dictate or pressurise
for it is their goals that are being aired -
sparkle your own self-imagery and smile,
there's only one song when it comes to faith,
play the notes that twirl inside your visions
and be sure on the path chosen with care,
at the end of the day it's your spirit
which walks down the corridors in the sky.
Melodies' Cream Cake Disaster
Melodies slipped on the floor one fine day
while eating a delicious chocolate éclair,
in the bakery she forgot to pay
and everyone in the store really stared -
down on to the crazy hard ground she went,
it was such an hilarious event,
the twenty dollar bill in her gloved hand
was caught quietly by the wind's command,
it was a quarter to two in the afternoon,
Melodies slipped and took a trip to the moon.
Mr Wind
Mr Wind, or William as his close friends call him, is a pleasant character, though never call him Willy, he will blow up a storm! Usually he is frolicking along nature's gardens, a huffing and a puffing and scattering things about, he is a little bit of a scamp at times. He is gentle but can be wild and furious if the atmosphere drops or raises with pressure, he is very fine tuned to his mother, Nature. In spring, summer and autumn months his breath is quiet most of the time, and welcomed with smiles by the people who saunter outdoors. In winter though he shrugs off his pleasant personality and flies cold clouds across the sky, we all need a break I suppose, to let our hair down. And that is Mr Wind, William, he is not often seen, but his presence is always felt. Next time you feel him brush you, tip your hat and say hello.
Gardens Of Perception
So many avenues to take poetry -
experimentation seems to be frowned upon,
I'll tip my syllable hat and smile with words
as minds shake proverbial fingers to say no.
Perhaps if all writers were the same inside
we'd lose the artistic flair of creation's twists,
set free wings of traditional behaviour,
paint the scenery with cool colourful patterns,
laugh within the shadows of other's anger.
In isolation's wild gardens of perception
I will dance with my own tones of subtle light,
while imagination breathes I'll be poetic.

-
individuality on May 8http://allpoetry.com/poem/4194433 read commentd


