Garden Of Poetry

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My poetry rarely contains much symbolism. However, my desire to improve as a poet urged me to pen this little write. (The symbolic meaning of every flower mentioned can be found at the end of the post). The inspiration for this piece comes from Nandita’s “The Root Of Life.”

Garden of Poetry

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Strolling through her stunning verses
the aroma of rhymes entices my lungs
as poetic sunflowers generate warmth
and her love blooms in flowery tongues

Her windblown kisses of Baby’s Breath
Are love florets providing a sweet motif
As we exchange our primrose affections
For I am her stem and she my adoring leaf

She will eternally be my sacred lotus
Planted inside the deepest part of me
As I’ve become the photosynthetic sun
‘ever nourishing her garden of poetry

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The image reminded me of you N. Eye liner, touch of lip gloss, and of course the flowers in the luxurious black hair.

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Sunflowers (adoration, longevity)
Baby’s Breath (purity of heart)
Primrose (eternal love)
Sacred Lotus (In Buddhist symbolism it represents purity of body, speech, & spirit)

Rescued

Rescued

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The deep stitches that mark my flesh
Are medals from battles worn with pride
The wounds that line her battered heart
Moisten her breath with tears she’s cried

Me, the lonely beach boy surviving broken love
She, an indigo child tangled, a hand without a glove

It was my role to be the valiant knight
To rescue her from the pain of broken dreams
Bravely fighting off the slings and arrows
I was rescued by the poet in tattered jeans

I normally don’t post on Fridays, but my Poetry Muffin needs to read my words. And her wish is my demand.

Photo credit: Nandita.

We Fell In Love In A Metaphor

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We Fell In Love In A Metaphor

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We met in a poem as poets often do
Cause our words opened poetic doors
As we slowly fell in love in a metaphor

This love has grown with every rhyme
As verses carry the pain and hope that
Our meters will stand the test of time

These red feelings will eclipse eternity
For long after we have turned to dust
Our love will live forever in our poetry.

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This was for you N.

Cleansed

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Somme-in a little different.

Cleansed

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It was a lucid afternoon
Straight out of my dreams
We laughed and loved
Feasting on Pepsi, popcorn, and poetry

Drawing her a warm bath
I attempted to read Neruda
Yet she had other plans

Reciting pink verses
Red rhymes cascaded from her glossy lips
Like slippery suds of passion
Soaking me with love

Words floated like translucent bubbles
Washing my flaws, fears, and pain
Rinsing my body, purifying my heart
Baptizing my soul

My beloved took a bath
It was me that she cleansed.

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This poem came from a prompt from my mentor Nandita Yata.  Hopefully, she will approve.

 

The Way Things Used To Be

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The Way Things Used To Be

 

Our home has become as lonely

as the last leaf on a dying tree

laughter no longer reverberates against walls

we consummated with our love

old arguments replay themselves endlessly

like a scratched record avoiding the next beat

the eerie shadows of who we once were

turn us into restless spirits of the night 

as we haunt ourselves with stained memories of

the way things used to be

 

Photo from Google Images

 

Beyond Repair

broken-woman

Beyond Repair

Unloved.

Neglected.

Mistreated.

With love I recovered

all of her broken pieces.

With kisses I attempted

to heal her wounds.

But

trust never appeared,

her tears never ended.

How could I have known

she was broken

beyond repair.

 

Image borrowed from Google Images

Never Meant For You

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Never Meant For You

Just because
you’re my grand obsession
my beautiful poetic muse
doesn’t mean these little words
were meant for you
we both know
there is a clock by my bed
that marks every lonely hour
you’re not by my side
that doesn’t mean
I wrote these words for you
yes, I admit
my lips ache for you
as I breathe your words
crave your prose
which flow through my burning veins
that doesn’t mean these words
were written for you
just because
you’re my north and my south
and I refuse to live
a day without your poetry
as your words fill me with joy
as your rhymes beat with my heart
don’t read between blurred lines
just get over it
these little words were
never meant for you

Hola.  Missed you.  Took a two week hiatus to rest. Lonely Author is well and still waiting for a surgery date. I have kept myself busy writing To Do lists.  Suddenly, after two boring weeks of thinking of To Do stuff to be done, I came to the conclusion I don’t have enough time to do the things on all of my To Do lists. So, the Chimp trashed them and decided to go back to writing.

I will drop by to visit all of you.  Thank you for all of the lovely messages.