greenmountaineer
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A beautiful song-like quality to this.
a few of mine, diversity and regrets included
- Thread starter butters
- Start date
A beautiful song-like quality to this.
"to speak of berries
crushed between fingers
squeezing out the juice of her
that ripe must
that hedonistic lust
topped only by her cries of cream"
We love berry poems here in the poetry F&D. Of all the fruit poems, berry poems are the most fruitful.
crushed between fingers
squeezing out the juice of her
that ripe must
that hedonistic lust
topped only by her cries of cream"
We love berry poems here in the poetry F&D. Of all the fruit poems, berry poems are the most fruitful.
butters
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thanks, gm
i'm just going through some files and getting things in one place online as well as in my hard drive, in case my puter goes kaput again.this little one was a 'just because' poem, when we had all that snow falling. it looked so pretty and people grew young for a day.
butters
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ha, this one is up here under one of the live writes - the passion one or sensuous whatsits ... something anyway. berries rool! esp with cream. *nods*
butters
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last song
when lesser birds have fallen silent,
ceased their backyard gossip,
from some high perch
he absorbs the cooling day
from dusk's own sweet and
melancholic vapours
distils his song
within his ink-plumed breast
condenses notes
that spill then from his beak
in purest prayer
when lesser birds have fallen silent,
ceased their backyard gossip,
from some high perch
he absorbs the cooling day
from dusk's own sweet and
melancholic vapours
distils his song
within his ink-plumed breast
condenses notes
that spill then from his beak
in purest prayer
butters
High on a Hill
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orbiting
small asteroid am i
trapped within this soundless space
orbiting the brightness of your sun
your smug charms
and when i seek asylum
in your spurious protocol
i'm assailed
by complacency you've found
in the bottom of a bottle
secret librarian
i compile synthetic promises
become the keeper of your lies
tome after heavy tome
in dark deep vaults of mind
i hide you
hide you so the light you shine
on others shines undimmed
wear the mantle of your guilt
as they burn for love of you
small asteroid am i
trapped within this soundless space
orbiting the brightness of your sun
your smug charms
and when i seek asylum
in your spurious protocol
i'm assailed
by complacency you've found
in the bottom of a bottle
secret librarian
i compile synthetic promises
become the keeper of your lies
tome after heavy tome
in dark deep vaults of mind
i hide you
hide you so the light you shine
on others shines undimmed
wear the mantle of your guilt
as they burn for love of you
butters
High on a Hill
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windsong
to the blind of night
i hold aloft
a clench of sorry visions
for all is lost
still-birthed in dust
and i must turn my gaze aside
so time to grieve
and then let go
move my wooden feet on to
those places where the wild winds blow -
make windchimes of the bare bones of my soul
to the blind of night
i hold aloft
a clench of sorry visions
for all is lost
still-birthed in dust
and i must turn my gaze aside
so time to grieve
and then let go
move my wooden feet on to
those places where the wild winds blow -
make windchimes of the bare bones of my soul
butters
High on a Hill
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rear view rugby
without a doubt
it comes to me
as he strides on by
he has a pretty fine physique
i cannot help but sigh
two pillars all taut muscle
broad shoulders, sculpted arms
strong neck, big chest, arrest my gaze
but best of all
'nice arse'
without a doubt
it comes to me
as he strides on by
he has a pretty fine physique
i cannot help but sigh
two pillars all taut muscle
broad shoulders, sculpted arms
strong neck, big chest, arrest my gaze
but best of all
'nice arse'
butters
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revelations
remember
those bare wires?
they're the ones
dangling idiot-fashion
teasing me
"all you gotta do is reach out"
get yourself a little bolt from the blue
do
a Saul
get a little closer
to understanding Tesla
burn baby burn
dance
on St. Vitus toes
"let the power fill you!"
bible-belt commands from the heights of a ceiling
"all you gotta do is
reach out!"
viper's tongue of
copper-ends exposed in innocence
but i know
resist temptation
yet still my mouth fills with spit
the taste of old iron
as imagination suspends me
X-ray fashion
eyes burning with revelations
remember
those bare wires?
they're the ones
dangling idiot-fashion
teasing me
"all you gotta do is reach out"
get yourself a little bolt from the blue
do
a Saul
get a little closer
to understanding Tesla
burn baby burn
dance
on St. Vitus toes
"let the power fill you!"
bible-belt commands from the heights of a ceiling
"all you gotta do is
reach out!"
viper's tongue of
copper-ends exposed in innocence
but i know
resist temptation
yet still my mouth fills with spit
the taste of old iron
as imagination suspends me
X-ray fashion
eyes burning with revelations
butters
High on a Hill
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riven
of you
they look at me
as if i no longer belong
i've become an oddity
in their world of must and sureties
i
no longer know how to behave
my point of reference missing
my compass bearing lost
now my needle idly spins
bereft of direction
of you
they look at me
as if i no longer belong
i've become an oddity
in their world of must and sureties
i
no longer know how to behave
my point of reference missing
my compass bearing lost
now my needle idly spins
bereft of direction
butters
High on a Hill
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Sadder
Why does sadness dog my footsteps?
oh faithful hound
shadowing my days and stealing
comfort from the sun's shine
joy shrinks from avid fingers
a reluctant lover
embarrassed by my touch
while hope is just a shattered rainbow
my nights are haunted still
by its breathy whine
as it skulks beneath floorboards
misdirecting my dreams to unhappy valleys
to places my mind would rather not go
Why does sadness dog my footsteps?
oh faithful hound
shadowing my days and stealing
comfort from the sun's shine
joy shrinks from avid fingers
a reluctant lover
embarrassed by my touch
while hope is just a shattered rainbow
my nights are haunted still
by its breathy whine
as it skulks beneath floorboards
misdirecting my dreams to unhappy valleys
to places my mind would rather not go
butters
High on a Hill
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said nothing
the moon was pink
just a little embarrassed
by what it saw
but it said nothing -
just moved slowly on
turn a blind eye
and a deaf ear
gossips never prosper
confessional boxes are for priests and
all the world can't stand eachother
every neighbour has a grievance
kiss the bomb that's stamped Deliverance
as the world revolves
as the world revolves on
dirty money changing hands
and secret lovers posting letters
blinkered views and gravity
demanding that we
keep our feet right here
right here
on the ground
as it turns
while the clouds in our heads
and the rain in our eyes
wash shades of bitter happiness
away
the moon
it was pink
but it turned a deathly white
as it slid
round this world
and
turned a dying day
into night
the moon was pink
just a little embarrassed
by what it saw
but it said nothing -
just moved slowly on
turn a blind eye
and a deaf ear
gossips never prosper
confessional boxes are for priests and
all the world can't stand eachother
every neighbour has a grievance
kiss the bomb that's stamped Deliverance
as the world revolves
as the world revolves on
dirty money changing hands
and secret lovers posting letters
blinkered views and gravity
demanding that we
keep our feet right here
right here
on the ground
as it turns
while the clouds in our heads
and the rain in our eyes
wash shades of bitter happiness
away
the moon
it was pink
but it turned a deathly white
as it slid
round this world
and
turned a dying day
into night
butters
High on a Hill
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15.07.02
seersight: circa 390 AD
such troubled times
when seas encroach upon the land
and verdant tips of meadow grass
predict their own demise in waves of green.
oh, powers be!
refine this tool that i might weep
the tears of blood-red moons and hold
the flimsy dreams of distant stars
in hands that shake and can't be trusted with their visions.
all's cold and wet and
moving on the whims of tides and winds,
ruffling thoughts of ages darker
as streamlined vessels cross untested thresholds,
sand to sand,
burying some hopes along the way to Hope.
time passes as skies overclouded with vapours
everchanging in form and inclination,
evaporating in the sun of newer days.
and in these wavering flames i see
the strike and rising sparks and rising
spirit of the change,
soundless symbolic;
the writhing snakes that clasp the garnets, representing trade,
and the sweat and the skill and toil of
hour upon hour in creation of a warrior's blade...
and, too, i see, through eyes that sting
with memories as yet to come to pass,
reflections of a shadow in the bluest glass;
a shadow creeping soft upon the night of east,
that pivots on the cusp of gods in conflict...
then bright the sun!
striking new sparks to dazzle these fey eyes
as bloody scythes they cut a swathe,
sweeping through a field of children, golden;
and softly heathered mounds,
horizon to horizon round,
a-covering over these flaxen treasures
seersight: circa 390 AD
such troubled times
when seas encroach upon the land
and verdant tips of meadow grass
predict their own demise in waves of green.
oh, powers be!
refine this tool that i might weep
the tears of blood-red moons and hold
the flimsy dreams of distant stars
in hands that shake and can't be trusted with their visions.
all's cold and wet and
moving on the whims of tides and winds,
ruffling thoughts of ages darker
as streamlined vessels cross untested thresholds,
sand to sand,
burying some hopes along the way to Hope.
time passes as skies overclouded with vapours
everchanging in form and inclination,
evaporating in the sun of newer days.
and in these wavering flames i see
the strike and rising sparks and rising
spirit of the change,
soundless symbolic;
the writhing snakes that clasp the garnets, representing trade,
and the sweat and the skill and toil of
hour upon hour in creation of a warrior's blade...
and, too, i see, through eyes that sting
with memories as yet to come to pass,
reflections of a shadow in the bluest glass;
a shadow creeping soft upon the night of east,
that pivots on the cusp of gods in conflict...
then bright the sun!
striking new sparks to dazzle these fey eyes
as bloody scythes they cut a swathe,
sweeping through a field of children, golden;
and softly heathered mounds,
horizon to horizon round,
a-covering over these flaxen treasures
butters
High on a Hill
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- Posts
- 81,471
serpents
when hands slip, liquid, past the hour
when they hesitate and blur
linger longer than they should, I know
the serpents come
to wrap their heavy coils about me
to press their thoughts of empty eyes
and rictus mouths upon me
to seal this tryst with poison
kissing apathy, they pull me down
into a midnight darker than my making
a bitter landscape, barren but for wishes
writhing in a heat to desiccate the flesh
and when this, too, is gone
the way of all that's gone before
and I'm left chilled
alone with nothing but the memories
of all the doors you've shut on me
I'm crawling into sleep -
hoping not to dream of faces
when hands slip, liquid, past the hour
when they hesitate and blur
linger longer than they should, I know
the serpents come
to wrap their heavy coils about me
to press their thoughts of empty eyes
and rictus mouths upon me
to seal this tryst with poison
kissing apathy, they pull me down
into a midnight darker than my making
a bitter landscape, barren but for wishes
writhing in a heat to desiccate the flesh
and when this, too, is gone
the way of all that's gone before
and I'm left chilled
alone with nothing but the memories
of all the doors you've shut on me
I'm crawling into sleep -
hoping not to dream of faces
butters
High on a Hill
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- Jul 2, 2009
- Posts
- 81,471
seven minutes of silence
it's midnight returned,
that dark divan,
that fiery couch where
frozen loins burn and my
punishment shudders and slouches.
once more i'm subjected,
my birthright rejected
as your apathy
seduces me
and this trade-off
reduces me
to seven minutes of silence.
walk on through the shadows
in a whispering land,
victim or transgressor -
i don't understand;
with your tenderest bruising
and skilful confusing
i'm afflicted and losing
a safe place to stand.
i chewed bitter ashes
- a circling calm;
i prayed for remission
- an inverted psalm;
but you showed no contrition
for my wilful condition,
crushing my intuition
in your careless palm.
in my poorest limbo
Pandora's box teases
and i'm left protesting
your lack-lustre pleasing;
suffocated by serpents
i'm coiled and defenceless,
this pleading is senseless
'cause time only leases
you - to me
and it's midnight returned,
that dark divan,
that fiery couch
where your apathy
seduces me
and this trade-off
reduces me
to seven minutes of silence.
it's midnight returned,
that dark divan,
that fiery couch where
frozen loins burn and my
punishment shudders and slouches.
once more i'm subjected,
my birthright rejected
as your apathy
seduces me
and this trade-off
reduces me
to seven minutes of silence.
walk on through the shadows
in a whispering land,
victim or transgressor -
i don't understand;
with your tenderest bruising
and skilful confusing
i'm afflicted and losing
a safe place to stand.
i chewed bitter ashes
- a circling calm;
i prayed for remission
- an inverted psalm;
but you showed no contrition
for my wilful condition,
crushing my intuition
in your careless palm.
in my poorest limbo
Pandora's box teases
and i'm left protesting
your lack-lustre pleasing;
suffocated by serpents
i'm coiled and defenceless,
this pleading is senseless
'cause time only leases
you - to me
and it's midnight returned,
that dark divan,
that fiery couch
where your apathy
seduces me
and this trade-off
reduces me
to seven minutes of silence.
butters
High on a Hill
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- Jul 2, 2009
- Posts
- 81,471
clubbing
lycra jungle tops
flirty minis and thongs
- so much fat with no sense of rhythm
high in the tree tops
birds prattle and whistle -
one eye on the cat
in this house of the dead
fingers trace the contours of
a midwinter sunset -
honeystained, we reach,
understanding the stones
the time to leave is now - it's just too late;
to stay is to invite the rage,
open-armed, embrace the darkened stage;
chance the glancing eye of fancy fate,
and be broke and broke again upon
the coldly turning wheels of hate.
arms i raise,
lift of chin,
immix me with this playsome stream
lick-lapping calf and thigh;
its belly-shrinking chill claims me,
the meat and blood and bones of me,
ribs, breast, shoulder, neck of me...
behind the mask
street pedlar eyes
and the voice of a trickster...
so i plant myself deeper,
the tempter nothing more than
silhouette of the assassin
lycra jungle tops
flirty minis and thongs
- so much fat with no sense of rhythm
high in the tree tops
birds prattle and whistle -
one eye on the cat
in this house of the dead
fingers trace the contours of
a midwinter sunset -
honeystained, we reach,
understanding the stones
the time to leave is now - it's just too late;
to stay is to invite the rage,
open-armed, embrace the darkened stage;
chance the glancing eye of fancy fate,
and be broke and broke again upon
the coldly turning wheels of hate.
arms i raise,
lift of chin,
immix me with this playsome stream
lick-lapping calf and thigh;
its belly-shrinking chill claims me,
the meat and blood and bones of me,
ribs, breast, shoulder, neck of me...
behind the mask
street pedlar eyes
and the voice of a trickster...
so i plant myself deeper,
the tempter nothing more than
silhouette of the assassin
butters
High on a Hill
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- Jul 2, 2009
- Posts
- 81,471
to believe yet, when all belief is stilled;
to hope, when all hope is merely ash;
to dream, and seek a dream, where only nightmares dance -
this is the provenance of madmen
and when i sought a magic weed,
'twas you, instead, i found;
you made the music mute,
regressed the seed,
and darkling vapours bloomed about me round.
denied and exposed by devotional famine,
the locusts have landed, the threat's running deep;
i'm still and composed and proposing the lie -
in this dangerous land
let me hide and go sleep
l'd as lief sip from the thistle
its secret dew, sweet melancholia,
than sup from that bloodied chalice
and it feels like
nothing
and it feels like
nowhere
and it feels like
hope is just another blade to swallow
and nobody was there.
nobody was there
when your midnight wrapped soft arms about you -
but you swore the secret taste of
golden apples lit your tongue,
filling you with youthful bliss
and the sweetly certain knowledge
once more would you full-flower
with the coming of the sun...
to hope, when all hope is merely ash;
to dream, and seek a dream, where only nightmares dance -
this is the provenance of madmen
and when i sought a magic weed,
'twas you, instead, i found;
you made the music mute,
regressed the seed,
and darkling vapours bloomed about me round.
denied and exposed by devotional famine,
the locusts have landed, the threat's running deep;
i'm still and composed and proposing the lie -
in this dangerous land
let me hide and go sleep
l'd as lief sip from the thistle
its secret dew, sweet melancholia,
than sup from that bloodied chalice
and it feels like
nothing
and it feels like
nowhere
and it feels like
hope is just another blade to swallow
and nobody was there.
nobody was there
when your midnight wrapped soft arms about you -
but you swore the secret taste of
golden apples lit your tongue,
filling you with youthful bliss
and the sweetly certain knowledge
once more would you full-flower
with the coming of the sun...
butters
High on a Hill
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- Jul 2, 2009
- Posts
- 81,471
thoughts sink
like cold air
rush into the breach like men already dead
- yet unaware
he who perceives
all is confusion
has the sharpest vision
yet he who can see
man's debt to man
has the clearest perception
parcel my moods
in shades of coriander and cumin
tamarind and ginger
but somehow i know
i'll keep dreaming of kumquats
i think you wrote a speech one day -
i felt it on lips cracked with kissing;
did it feel as fake when you wrote it
as it did that day in my mouth?
falling away
no more to say
nothing to stay for...
isn't it bland
nowhere to stand
nothing to fight for...
something burst
it wasn't pleasant
stars all melted
incandescent
now ther's just
a big fat hole
and love is left
without a goal
like cold air
rush into the breach like men already dead
- yet unaware
he who perceives
all is confusion
has the sharpest vision
yet he who can see
man's debt to man
has the clearest perception
parcel my moods
in shades of coriander and cumin
tamarind and ginger
but somehow i know
i'll keep dreaming of kumquats
i think you wrote a speech one day -
i felt it on lips cracked with kissing;
did it feel as fake when you wrote it
as it did that day in my mouth?
falling away
no more to say
nothing to stay for...
isn't it bland
nowhere to stand
nothing to fight for...
something burst
it wasn't pleasant
stars all melted
incandescent
now ther's just
a big fat hole
and love is left
without a goal
butters
High on a Hill
- Joined
- Jul 2, 2009
- Posts
- 81,471
blimey, these go back a few!
beneath ice-tinted skies
his allure is essentially abstract
his tremulous sensuality
a minefield of malicious delight
dissolution
i hold your promises up to the light
like crosses against the truth;
one by one, i watch them
as they crumble in my hand,
to fall as dust upon my naked feet
twisted
all promises, all lies
you are the disease
that eats away the heartwood
drains the sap
snaps the roots
distorts the branches of this love i give you
there is no remedy
no cure
no hope
just this twisted cling to love
beneath ice-tinted skies
his allure is essentially abstract
his tremulous sensuality
a minefield of malicious delight
dissolution
i hold your promises up to the light
like crosses against the truth;
one by one, i watch them
as they crumble in my hand,
to fall as dust upon my naked feet
twisted
all promises, all lies
you are the disease
that eats away the heartwood
drains the sap
snaps the roots
distorts the branches of this love i give you
there is no remedy
no cure
no hope
just this twisted cling to love
