The Setting Sun
The horizon bloomed
Or languidly toppled
Tenderly into a sooty
Gelid oil canvass
Of ash and blue blood
And I fracture my neck
Just to wince back
In its gloomy eyes
And I knew
From the brevity
Of her stares
That she was about
To cry.
The portly blares
Of the afternoon haze
Rested her florid hand
On my coarse face
And shifted it
In a placid sweep
To a stellar gloaming
Jumping rooftops
And skipping ropes
With electric cables;
The yellow icy sun
Was fringed
In a bland condensation
Of azure and white
And it was
A scraped spot
Of the subsiding
Fire of the day.
I looked around
Dragging fire
Into the sodden
Valleys of the lungs;
The traffic was
In a carousel,
The fast-food chain
Was a carnival,
And no one cared
About the modest hope
Pleading to be
Molested by
A utopic vision
And I thought
What a miserable life
It is to be
The setting sun.
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Haze...
A Haze Of Hurt, Had Me Blue
A Deep, Drenching, Melancholy Hue
Cooled Ardor, Still Missing You
As, A Sure-As-Azure, Wind Blew
An Indigo-Downcast, Drifts Into
Memories, Over and Through
Moments, Not Sapphire-True
… Just A Haze Of Misty Blue
Thru A Haze Of Red
Rage Ran Ahead
As Ache Demanded, Anger Be Fed
For Each Scalding Teardrop, Shed
As Each Burning Hearthrob, Bled
Lying Lonely On Crimson Bed
Like Some Scarlett O’Hara, Missing Rhett
... In A Claret Haze, Blood-Red
Then Came, A Haze Of Yellow
Which At First, Was Simply Sallow
Only Because Hindsight, Was Shallow
Then Sunset Glowed, Amber-Mellow
Flowing, Like Honey, Healing Like Aloe
Warm, Like A Long-Lit-Candle Tallow
Golden Flame, Chased Your Shadow …
... Back To Your Haze: A Streak Of Yellow
Look! A Purple Mountain Haze
Now, I Am At Peak-Phase
High Enough, To Admiringly Gaze
At Hills and Ridges Of Life’s Pace
Arms Filled With Violets and Lilacs’ Grace
In An Amethyst-Adorned, Amour-Embrace
Ripe, Purple Grapes, I Pluck and Taste
... In My Purple Horizon Haze
Written & ©: 2/18/10
By: The MoonBee
poem by MoonBee Canady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cajoling From A Condor
Underneath the condor wings
Of the night's gargoyle sentries
Exiguous bodies shrill their lights
Scintillating the scar of the horizon
A fine line where the sun treads
Jumping rooftops and flooding trelisses
Where the morning rips and snoops in
Pilfering the dark of the night
And the salient screams of the cicadas—
A fracture of hope on a lazy fire
A purveyance for the poor
And the bones crackled to ignite
The hearse moseying in the roads
Shrouding the thinning ice in the skin
Unwelcoming in the rhythm of the dirge
The night ends there for the meander
Thwarted by an answer in the uttermost
Shape and form, but this is not
Giving up on me of me, yet.
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Smoking
I like the cool and heft of it, dull metal on the palm,
And the click, the hiss, the spark fuming into flame,
Boldface of fire, the rage and sway of it, raw blue at the base
And a slope of gold, a touch to the packed tobacco, the tip
Turned red as a warning light, blown brighter by the breath,
The pull and the pump of it, and the paper's white
Smoothed now to ash as the smoke draws back, drawn down
To the black crust of lungs, tar and poisons in the pink,
And the blood sorting it out, veins tight and the heart slow,
The push and wheeze of it, a sweep of plumes in the air
Like a shako of horses dragging a hearse through the late centennium,
London, at the end of December, in the dark and fog.
poem by Elton Glaser
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Fire
Fire is my life, fire is my hope, fire is my everything.
Confusion, whipping, whirling never ending.
Always colder, always harder, cruel and devastating all in one.
Fire is my life, fire is my hope, fire is my everything.
Light, I need a light to keep at bay the ever darkening hour.
Searching for warmth, searching to hide, searching to survive.
Fire is my life, fire is my hope, fire is my everything.
A leaf, a twig, anything to find a way.
At last a flame, a hope to guide me from my doom.
Fire is my life, fire is my hope, fire is my everything.
The light is hungry devouring all in its path and growing in strength.
Then suddenly, goodbye mydear with a hiss the light and my salvation go out.
Fire was my life, fire was my hope, fire was my everything.
poem by Angelic Warrior
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fire-Time
He walked toward her
a fire-stick in his hand
and spoke softly.
'This is fire
my gift to you.
It is safety from wild animals;
heat for your food;
romance for your life;
Igniter of Passion;
The Secret Furnace
which fuels the Sun;
the Starry Blanket
which covers the night;
the Milky Way which burns
hot-blue.
The Heart's Flame
is Cobalt Fire too.
She touched his fire-stick
and felt the burn.
He grabbed her singed hand
and kissed it
saying:
Fire too
burns
human things;
Passion too
sears souls.
'But how, ' she said,
'shall I know fire which heals
from Stinging Fire which
burns my soul? '
'How can I be sure my fire
is safe fire,
that all my passions
are healing flames
and not destructive ones? '
He, said 'Fire is like touch;
go close enough to feel the warmth
but don't press too much
or the skin recoils.
Fire is like two kissing lips;
go close enough to feel the heat
but pressure too much
you chip the teeth.
Fire is like making love;
it can sweep you away
but be sure Fire's Orbit
brings you back
ensuring sure you don't get too close to the burning Sun.
When young be the bubble-bee sampling nectar,
not the moth obsessed with flames.
Use fires' heat
but regard more its light;
for Fire is both;
heat is good
light is knighted.
Fire correctly lit
is a balm of both
and allows Love and Lovers
to survive.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The Little Fat Doctor
He seemed so strange to me, every way--
In manner, and form, and size,
From the boy I knew but yesterday,--
I could hardly believe my eyes!
To hear his name called over there,
My memory thrilled with glee
And leaped to picture him young and fair
In youth, as he used to be.
But looking, only as glad eyes can,
For the boy I knew of yore,
I smiled on a portly little man
I had never seen before!--
Grave as a judge in courtliness--
Professor-like and bland--
A little fat doctor and nothing less,
With his hat in his kimboed hand.
But how we talked old times, and 'chaffed'
Each other with 'Minnie' and 'Jim'---
And how the little fat doctor laughed,
And how I laughed with him!
'And it's pleasant,' I thought, 'though I yearn to see
The face of the youth that was,
To know no boy could smile on me
As the little fat doctor does!'
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Smoke And Ashes
I'd heard rumors and I'd heard talk
About the trail you'd left of broken hearts
About the sea of tears too wide to cross
But a little bad press has never scared me off
So I burned a path to figure out
How to get me some of what you got
I've got a red hot heart
If the talk is true your's is the same
And we should be together
And let our passions fan love's flame
When I looked for you I almost passed you by
You were so cool and calm
I thought my friends had lied
But I thought so much reserve must make you wild inside
It was there and then that I knew
I had to get some of what you got
I've got a red hot heart
If the talk is true your's is the same
And we should be together
And let our passions fan love's flame
I thought I'd won your heart when I held you hand in mine
I thought it was true love the way we complemented each other
But my right is your wrong
And when you're right then I'm left with nothing
Your light and your heat have all been spent
Leaving only smoke and ashes
Only smoke and ashes baby
I've got a red hot heart
And your heart's as blue as the blood in your veins
I say there's fire down below
You say it's only smoke and ashes baby
I'm crying all the time
Salty stinging tears
And mourning for the past carbon-dated years
But knowing now for certain that you were always right
Because if a breeze could blow you out of my life
It's only smoke and ashes baby
Only smoke and ashes baby
I've got a red hot heart
And your heart's as blue as the blood in your veins
I say there's fire down below
You say it's only smoke and ashes baby
I was blinded by devotion
My unwavering love for you
So blinded that I thought all your lies were true
But now I know for certain since you've gone away
It was just a smoldering fire I mistook for a blaze
Only smoke and ashes baby
I've got a red hot heart
And your heart's as blue as the blood in your veins
I say there's fire down below
You say it's only smoke and ashes baby
Only smoke and ashes baby, baby ...
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Loving You Forever
The sun is slowly setting.
The sunset is magnificent with the different shades of pink and red spread across the sky.
I touch your cheek and notice just how pale it really is.
The sun is slowly setting.
My smile falters as you hush my voice and murmur time is short.
My mind is telling me to leave, but my heart is pleading me to stay.
The sun is slowly setting.
You grab my hand and draw me close to you.
I look into your eyes, and search for something evil, but all I see is love.
The sun is slowly setting.
I lean my head against your chest and take in all your love.
You wrap your arms around me and tell me not to be afraid.
The sun is slowly setting.
Shadows are falling all around us, enclosing us in darkness.
An eerie breeze causes a chill to scurry up my spine.
The sun is slowly setting.
The time has come; you tilt my face up towards yours and tell me that you love me.
My heart is beating fast now as I say it in return.
The sun is slowly setting.
Your eyes are open and I see that they are masked with fear, and yet, love still shines through.
You smile and a flow of dawning realization rushes throughout my system.
The sun is slowly setting.
I try to scream, but my speech has been impaired.
I try to run, but my feet remain in place.
The sun is slowly setting.
You tell me not to worry, and that everything’s all right.
You take my hand in yours and move it to your heart.
The sun is slowly setting.
I feel myself relax as I tilt my head, allowing my neck to be vulnerable.
I feel a prick of pain against my neck, and then a rush of warmth and love overcomes me.
The sun is slowly setting.
The coldness is no longer my concern, for I feel no breeze against my pale skin.
Never will anything be my concern, for now we are together, for all eternity.
The sun is slowly setting.
At last the sun has subsided into the earth.
Above us, the sky is black, and at peace.
Loving You Forever
The sun is slowly setting.
The sunset is magnificent with the different shades of pink and red spread across the sky.
I touch your cheek and notice just how pale it really is.
The sun is slowly setting.
My smile falters as you hush my voice and murmur time is short.
My mind is telling me to leave, but my heart is pleading me to stay.
The sun is slowly setting.
You grab my hand and draw me close to you.
I look into your eyes, and search for something evil, but all I see is love.
The sun is slowly setting.
I lean my head against your chest and take in all your love.
You wrap your arms around me and tell me not to be afraid.
The sun is slowly setting.
Shadows are falling all around us, enclosing us in darkness.
An eerie breeze causes a chill to scurry up my spine.
The sun is slowly setting.
The time has come; you tilt my face up towards yours and tell me that you love me.
My heart is beating fast now as I say it in return.
The sun is slowly setting.
Your eyes are open and I see that they are masked with fear, and yet, love still shines through.
You smile and a flow of dawning realization rushes throughout my system.
The sun is slowly setting.
I try to scream, but my speech has been impaired.
I try to run, but my feet remain in place.
The sun is slowly setting.
You tell me not to worry, and that everything’s all right.
You take my hand in yours and move it to your heart.
The sun is slowly setting.
I feel myself relax as I tilt my head, allowing my neck to be vulnerable.
I feel a prick of pain against my neck, and then a rush of warmth and love overcomes me.
The sun is slowly setting.
The coldness is no longer my concern, for I feel no breeze against my pale skin.
Never will anything be my concern, for now we are together, for all eternity.
The sun is slowly setting.
At last the sun has subsided into the earth.
Above us, the sky is black, and at peace
poem by Chidiebere Franklin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Man Walks The Streets
That old man near the traffic light
Was expelled from home at midnight.
He walked away steady on his feet.
And made his home on Delhi streets.
My driver whispered in a resigned tone.
I looked up putting down my mobile phone.
He carried on his shoulder a jute bag,
And in his hand a clean yellow rag.
As the traffic light blushed red,
The driver to stop compelled.
The old man near the traffic light,
Asked the driver –may I wipe?
He had a gentle voice and even stride,
Erect back and manner polite and mild.
Now this was his new means of livelihood,
He hoped to be paid to pay for some food.
Sahibs waved him away on their way
Down town, gearing for charades and play.
A little girl offered the man her lunch box.
Their eyes met, he looked flummoxed.
I lost my grandpa early last summer,
He went without having his supper.
You remind me somewhat of him.
Although a bit thin, she grinned.
They laughed, tears in their eyes
He took it with a bow she waved bye.
She turned and called back, Dadu
Will you be here tomorrow too?
The old man near the traffic light
Said, sure dear, I’ll be here all right.
Turned heavenwards, saw a bird alight
A rainbow walked the earth in day light?
He unabashedly cried, cried and cried,
‘I had thought my tear glands had dried’.
He wiped his face on his shirt sleeve,
A rainbow on a dreary day, I sure do believe.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Smoke & Ashes
Id heard rumors and Id heard talk
About the trail youd left of broken hearts
About the sea of tears too wide to cross
But a little bad press has never scared me off
So I burned a path to figure out
How to get me some of what you got
Ive got a red hot heart
If the talk is true yours is the same
And we should be together
And let our passions fan loves flame
When I looked for you I almost passed you by
You were so cool and calm I thought my friends had lied
But I thought so much reserve must make you wild inside
It was there and then that I knew I had to get some of what you got
Ive got a red hot heart
If the talk is true yours is the same
And we should be together
And let our passions fan loves flame
I thought Id won your heart when I held you hand in mine
I thought it was true love the way we complemented each other
But my right is your wrong
And when youre right then Im left with nothing
Your light and your heat have all been spent
Leaving only smoke and ashes
Only smoke and ashes baby
Ive got a red hot heart
Any your hearts as blue as the blood in your veins
I say theres fire down below
You say its only smoke and ashes baby
Im crying all the time
Salty stinging tears
And mourning for the past carbon-dated years
But knowing now for certain that you were always right
Because if a breeze could blow you out of my life
Its only smoke and ashes baby
Only smoke and ashes baby
Ive got a red hot heart
And your hearts as blue as the blood in your veins
I say theres fire down below
You say its only smoke and ashes baby
I was blinded by devotion
My unwavering love for you
So blinded that I thought all your lies were true
But now I know for certain since youve gone away
It was just a smoldering fire I mistook for a blaze
Only smoke and ashes baby
Ive got a red hot heart
And your hearts as blue as the blood in your veins
I say theres fire down below
You say its only smoke and ashes baby
Only smoke and ashes baby, baby ...
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Vision Of Doom...
you look at the world
while riding a taxi
above the bridge that connects
two cities
a canvass of blue sea
white clouds drifting
seagulls crossing the horizon
blue ships floating
tiny houses along the boulevard
cars moving like ants
upon a line of path
you are amazed by so much beauty
man-made though
slowly the compassion arises
from the stares of your eyes
for soon
who knows that this is your last glimpse
of this city
beauty swallowed by waves
as islands sink to the bottom of the
the blue ocean
and the sounds of people like you
finally gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So Early in the Morning the Great Things I Write
I’m sitting all alone in this solid night
in the yard behind my home watching the fire end its flight.
It’s quiet all around; the fire consumes my sight.
Now a great roaring sound is coming from the light.
The thought eats at my conscience as I always knew it might
because I’m starting to doubt if I can tell what’s wrong from what is right.
Why do I switch sides so often? Why this constant fight?
How come I’ll change in a heartbeat from black back into white?
I’ll chew and never swallow; too much off I bite.
Dreaming of escape. Flying like a kite.
But the homely ropes are bound so unbearably tight.
So I’ll wonder about my life and the fall after the height.
poem by D.M.L. Catseye
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Relating To Robinson
Somewhere in Chelsea, early summer;
And, walking in the twilight toward the docks,
I thought I made out Robinson ahead of me.
From an uncurtained second-story room, a radio
Was playing There’s a Small Hotel; a kite
Twisted above dark rooftops and slow drifting birds.
We were alone there, he and I,
Inhabiting the empty street.
Under a sign for Natural Bloom Cigars,
While lights clicked softly in the dusk from red to green,
He stopped and gazed into a window
Where a plaster Venus, modeling a truss,
Looked out at Eastbound traffic. (But Robinson,
I knew, was out of town: he summers at a place in Maine,
Sometimes on Fire Island, sometimes the Cape,
Leaves town in June and comes back after Labor Day.)
And yet, I almost called out, “Robinson!”
There was no chance. Just as I passed,
Turning my head to search his face,
His own head turned with mine
And fixed me with dilated, terrifying eyes
That stopped my blood. His voice
Came at me like an echo in the dark.
“I thought I saw the whirlpool opening.
Kicked all night at a bolted door.
You must have followed me from Astor Place.
An empty paper floats down at the last.
And then a day as huge as yesterday in pairs
Unrolled its horror on my face
Until it blocked—” Running in sweat
To reach the docks, I turned back
For a second glance. I had no certainty,
There in the dark, that it was Robinson
Or someone else.
The block was bare. The Venus,
Bathed in blue fluorescent light,
Stared toward the river. As I hurried West,
The lights across the bay were coming on.
The boats moved silently and the low whistles blew.
poem by Weldon Kees
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black & White Television
I looked in the mirror then
Saw my face in a dream.
With eyes sharp as diamonds
Blessed with clear vision.
Things were not as they seemed.
Black and white television
Stared back from the wall.
Is that my life?
Am I here at all?
Down in the high road, see
Motor cavalcades glide
Past shopwindow dressers
Desperately covering
All the parts they can hide.
Black and white television
Stares at me again.
Is that their lives?
Even dummies pretend.
The truth is so hard to deny.
The answer is here.
The screen never lies.
Black and white television.
Its the right television.
Show me its all a dream tonight.
The boys on the corner sulk
In their suzuki haze.
In primary colours
(each year more startling)
But they still fade to grey
On black and white television.
Its sweeping the land.
Is that your life?
Do you understand?
The truth is so hard to deny.
The answer is here.
The screen never lies.
Black and white television.
Back the right television.
Black and white television.
Hard to fight television.
Show me its all a dream tonight.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heart's Playlist
Panoramic sky motions mirror lucid
imagination creates placid mental pictures
serene incubation within the atmospheric bubble
Love in a mist of budding baby blue eyes
hearing only the electric buzz
of the cicadas remote hum
Suburbs bathed in dream-
….?) * * * like shades
: : : : *: : : : : : : : *: : : :
surreal azure indigo haze
wild diamond stallions
the light sends forth
its stable fleet
shimmering stillness
shaken by
the halcyon trot
of silent hooves
moment set free
from time
Time with all its florid offerings
canvassing petals of prismatic paint
welding torch of all the years
forward forging life force
well worked and accomplished
never ceasing (and yet)
always at peace
Celestial semen impregnates
the moist skyline of dawn
Clouds descend and spread themselves out
across sleeping suburban rooftops
Particles of dream resume their daily patterns
Brush of wind flowing through the leaves of backyard trees,
mimicking sounds of smooth crashing waves,
whispering the regenerate self contained secret of the soul.
Morning dew sipped from the evening primrose,
sun flowering crown of yellow flame,
lonesome reminders, letters of lost love,
outside light cast upon dusty window sills,
fragrant pores of the earth quell carnal thirst,
everything cool breeze, calm within my glassy gaze
each passing face flavored individual unique,
each equal in appeal, communicating indelible
delights to my eyes.
keeping happy thoughts, humming hopeful tunes,
for as long as your body is able,
heart beating, healthy breathing,
always without repose,
forever keep on singing.
fill to to the fullest the heart's play-list
with spontaneous love and life lyrics
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dormouse and the Doctor
There once was a Dormouse who lived in a bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red),
And all the day long he'd a wonderful view
Of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue).
A Doctor came hurrying round, and he said:
"Tut-tut, I am sorry to find you in bed.
Just say 'Ninety-nine' while I look at your chest....
Don't you find that chrysanthemums answer the best?"
The Dormouse looked round at the view and replied
(When he'd said "Ninety-nine") that he'd tried and he'd tried,
And much the most answering things that he knew
Were geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue).
The Doctor stood frowning and shaking his head,
And he took up his shiny silk hat as he said:
"What the patient requires is a change," and he went
To see some chrysanthemum people in Kent.
The Dormouse lay there, and he gazed at the view
Of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue),
And he knew there was nothing he wanted instead
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red).
The Doctor came back and, to show what he meant,
He had brought some chrysanthemum cuttings from Kent.
"Now these," he remarked, "give a much better view
Than geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue)."
They took out their spades and they dug up the bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red),
And they planted chrysanthemums (yellow and white).
"And now," said the Doctor, "we'll soon have you right."
The Dormouse looked out, and he said with a sigh:
"I suppose all these people know better than I.
It was silly, perhaps, but I did like the view
Of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue)."
The Doctor came round and examined his chest,
And ordered him Nourishment, Tonics, and Rest.
"How very effective," he said, as he shook
The thermometer, "all these chrysanthemums look!"
The Dormouse turned over to shut out the sight
Of the endless chrysanthemums (yellow and white).
"How lovely," he thought, "to be back in a bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red.)"
The Doctor said, "Tut! It's another attack!"
And ordered him Milk and Massage-of-the-back,
And Freedom-from-worry and Drives-in-a-car,
And murmured, "How sweet your chrysanthemums are!"
The Dormouse lay there with his paws to his eyes,
And imagined himself such a pleasant surprise:
"I'll pretend the chrysanthemums turn to a bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red)!"
The Doctor next morning was rubbing his hands,
And saying, "There's nobody quite understands
These cases as I do! The cure has begun!
How fresh the chrysanthemums look in the sun!"
The Dormouse lay happy, his eyes were so tight
He could see no chrysanthemums, yellow or white.
And all that he felt at the back of his head
Were delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red).
And that is the reason (Aunt Emily said)
If a Dormouse gets in a chrysanthemum bed,
You will find (so Aunt Emily says) that he lies
Fast asleep on his front with his paws to his eyes.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fire is Alive
Fire is a wizard on the creation
Opening avenues of thought
In a second, one second is all it takes.
Find a destructive element, force is one,
To rid of the beautiful sums of money.
My fire is alive in definite shapes
That fiercely contend with misunderstandings
As they appear beyond the blue horizon.
The sun is a planet not a star
For the inward fire may be bent,
It has created my burning desire
Like a beloved rock on a white desert.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Burst Your Face, Did He
Do not let it fall unto the ground.
Do not wast it, drink it all.
Drink all the purple light.
Purple, white or yellow light instead?
The further out I go I swim in haze.
The closer in you come.
Tell me your name.
Should America die full of such strong woman.
Schizophrenic yet I see.
Purple, yellow hued,
one or two are blue,
black and white the pearls around your neck.
The woman music makes the madness claims.
Your love for him that when he came your face.
I saw it burst into the colors, I above described.
poem by Is It Poetry
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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~ Beau John Keats ~
~ BEAU JOHN KEATS ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK.
11.12.09.
Boiledegg white face
Curly cloudy indocile hair
Deer spry eyes
Hellenic nose
Steeping neck, a
Pisa Leaning Tower
With a Ruby dot
Accentuated malars, flushing
Sliced watermelon leafy lips
Smile runnel flowething
Ivory leggy the Dame!
In the gamut of twinkly beamish
Streamlet of blue blood
Floweth up visibly
From bosom
Liquid fire
On nude neck
Beguiling!
Many dived
In bosoms to die
To dye in blue beauty
Poison blue.
Like tempest
Boisterous Beau
Nears closes to Dame.
Flower Krishnachura
Glowing breathing
Fire flame
Singing adieu
Bon voyage to Beau?
Those blued fire
Entice, Lure
Coy Decoy Beau
Impulsively enjoy
Dying in
Steeping neck
Bohemian bosom
Fire flames burping.
Beau diffuses for
Blooming death…
Engages in Dame’s
Ruby dot draw
Lip mark slick silken.
.
Beau John Keats says,
‘Hey Dame enter in you
With body mind cargo
Constellate your
Geometric corpus by
Fragmented blue miniscule
With a smile face wear’.
For blue beauty poison
Helplessly yet sincerely
Dame pules mewls for
Inevitable eventually
Of Beau John Keats.
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Copy right reserved by the author
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poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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