the twilight hours

I feel you in the pouring rain

violent or soft as a summer storm.

A distant star you appear only to fade

into the night from which you came.

Decaying gardenias fill my room with mortality

a treacly specter of  memories.

Wounded hearts are slow to heal

I have become indifferent to pain.

We are a wasteland,  all poetic breath died with us.

I long for the scent of earth infused with deep roots

the soothing sounds of chimes swaying from the

limb of a live oak,  soothing sounds for the twilight hours.

Image result for paintings of dying gardenias

 

Observations About Us

Poetry by Maxima, comments closed here.

Maxima

Bring me the horse of Zelenka
waiting for me in the green meadows
among the birds and the elm trees
and the wood pegs fragrant flowers
for I am facing an awesome battle.
I have a passionate love battle awaiting me.
I want her to surrender a world of tenderness,
her warm and beautiful lips.
My imagination and all of my dreams are deserted
on the glorious constellation of her beautiful eyes.
To be hers at sunrise I run along the sand by the sea
where she is the bliss of a playful nymph
adorned in flowers.

I love you my beautiful Angel

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searching

Through Hedonistic dreams  that unfold one upon the other I  call to you
a far off memory from waking life  transparent mica from an ancient site  undiscovered.
Not even that but something sparkling that disrupts the air transforms me to the silvery tongue of a  snake slithering a wayward river as fluid and elusive as the green of your eyes.

 

Pinterest

Night LIfe

From my  window  a sliver of  moon casts a haze over the water. I can hear the  rush of soft waves. Those  creatures beneath the depths,  do they sleep,  dream?  If  parted do they grieve?  Down the street  I can see  the lights from  an all night store. A man waits behind the counter.  Cautiously he  slips his hand under his jacket and takes a long swig from a  bottle.   A group of young thugs gather outside the storefront.   I imagine them  harming the storekeeper.  Distracted by the young whore taking shelter in a doorway they laugh and whisper. Oblivious to her vulnerability she sleeps as though she has never heard of  birds of prey that swoop down with jagged talons hungry for butchery.   I watch intently  in case I need to call out a warning  but losing interest they disappear into the dark.
Maybe nothing is real. Maybe   everything I see and hear is an illusion.   I lose focus on the  outside world and the burn of you stings relentlessly just below the surface.   I want to sleep forever, not give a damn about you.

 

Princess Blue Holly – Heart

I barely remember a thing,  MerSin, that darling, so eager and willing to help PBH, I  had to let him off the hook and I think he is totally rehabilitated now. Were it not for Hyperion and Tim Price and his beautiful trees this could have had a disastrous outcome. Resa has guided us through all of this turmoil with her gift of art and imagination and amazing energy. SinMonto is still trying to destroy the world but we will be back thanks to the magic of Resa.  Please visit the original for the thrilling finale and Rene Rosso’s torch song.
Thank you darling Resa, you are beyond talented, generous, beautiful and I adore you!

Art Gowns

Princess Blue Holly torpedoed herself toward the surface, the moment the Rio Grand’s mouth met the Gulf of Mexico.

Suddenly, just below where the gulf waters met the sky, MerSin confronted her. Not shying away, Princess Blue Holly demanded he set the Art Gowns Mermaids free, and return them to their normal Art Gowns Models selves.

MerSin, under complete control of SinMonto, laughed wickedly. Louder and louder his laughter roared like a fire from hell, as he transformed into a dragon. His evil SinMonto mission; destroy Princess Blue Holly!

Princess Blue Holly was at a massive disadvantage. She called on the master of her inner dragons, Hyperion.

There was no need for words. Hyperion appeared in a roiling fountain of steam and transformed Princess Blue Holly, with a roar like thunder. MerSin fell back in fear. Princess Blue Holly and her gown were now the form of a smaller, yet…

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Absinthe

House of Heart

Molten wax streams down the copper sconce onto the night stand as  you light my cigarette and  proceed to pour  your   unholy green trinity of wormwood, fennel, and anise into a fine crystal goblet.   Holding the spoon gently to my lips I impudently turn away.  I do not touch your concoction until you feign fascination with the mundane anecdote I consider trivial enough to share.   Several sips later we lean back casually into your brocade cushions and in a somewhat dreamier state you attempt to distract me  with  details of your recent dalliance with a french contemporary artist until I  dismiss it with an apathetic yawn.  The embodiment of elegance you  smile and arch your brow, once again  hold the spoon gently to my lips and in your impossibly delectable rhythm whisper that my hair and fair skin so near stirs your mind with  arousal and my…

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The Sea Wall

Scattered and exposed

beneath the rolling waves

I am sand surrendering to

the pull of the rolling tide

with no where to hide the

towering waves sweep me

up into the mouth of the beast

who is too weak to hold me

and I am  swallowed by the sea.

 

You are the seawall

a granite buffer between

land and ocean

Hardened with obligation

you stand your ground

when lightning strikes and

breakers crash  you do not

back down.

In your stony silence you

are not afraid and that is

the disparity in you and I.