Any velvet or satin morning
When Alexa is quiet and the alarm doesn't blare
Finding myself in your arms is a delight
For every love poem about you
Just know looking into those blue eyes
In your arms
Morning hugs you call them
Is sheer delight
I love You

C@rainbowchaser2025

out of the water, the water of ghost pools,
you rose, naked figurehead, oh, flower of night.
an impressionist's brush shook the water
like light reflected on moonstone.
****** of prisms, flowering, flowering,
lost ocean of star voices, forgotten star.
you sang and the night ran towards the sea,
you blossomed and the night became a wanderer.
nectar of the gods, sky-visionary, you sink into
the night like the petal of a rose, the grass almond-
eyed and whispering to you her dreams, fluttering
like a butterfly; little moonflower, you gather
the shadows and the song of the dark, the
drift of the clouds is your bare feet running,
the drift of the clouds, the cold sea crashing
in the harbour, the drift of the clouds,
the incredible overflowing of sky, poet-
ink and straying hair, the drift of
the clouds, everything that scatters
like you on the wind.

While the interpretators are putting together
the interpolators
are extracting out

Then presage
dubulators
encliticly
compile  
their mistakes

The soothsayers
are cloud-mongers
diviners of the light
They go to bed
and rise again
like anyone who might

The sorcerers
possess broken shreds
flinging incantations
and drugs about
While the dreamers
examine the threads
of last night so they claim to find it out

Most of time we
I
My
Me

Less time is
For You
         Your
  
Change the place of
Most by less
Less by most

To create an essence of love
To find the meaning of deep love
To collect the oysters of love from deep ocean of world

I teach my
little daughter about
things in the sea with
flippers, and I feel
like Neptune or
Posideon.
I can smell
the salty breeze.

Sometimes,
I feel like
I won the lottery.
Don't get me wrong,
I'm broke most
of the time, but
my life is rich with
golden memories, and
silver moments, built
one day at a time.

A seeker,
of infinite wonder
set out to
discover
the most incredible
treasure

those of immortal value
in all that they stand,
as time,
the greatest
conqueror
of all

gathered in a
sacred sack
these loving
gems she
stored

however her love
was the motive,
to capture
and share these
treasured gems
to save the others

though when she returned,
from atop the mountain,
no one recognized her
and no one,
would hear her treasure

a life dedicated,
and a life she gave
for pieces of information
that were stored
in the deepest of trenches,
but these she couldn't share,
for no one spoke the language,
the surface dwellers,
could not comprehend the depths

so she withdrew,
into an icy cave,
where she did find some warmth,
in weaving together these treasures
into a shining quilt
made of verse

frozen in time,
the word can be
keep on writing,
and don't be afraid,
to give it
your
life

because they will outlast you.

We ran
From something
Unseen. We were
Two, a man and a woman

River flowed red
He is steel. And her tears
Bullets. We are
Bayonets and gun barrels

The earth flourished
With steel, straight statues
Of trees and undergrowth
A perennial memorial

Buried, we were
Under the earth
Meant to last forever
Meant to simply be

Red silence
Enveloped the world
My brothers...
Glided between the trees

Creatures joined
Those of all kinds, prowl
Across the land
Around their brothers

The earth split
We are the valleys. Gashes
Along the veins of the earth
Runs red like streams and fountains

Wounds dried and flaking
Freely beasts roamed
Lands demarcated
Trampled, trodden

We are echoes
Within the canyons. We stalk
Like spirits, like steel
Behind fervor, behind craze

They lost
Time was forgotten
Time was reclaimed
Remade

We do not know time
We do not sow
We do not reap
We do not see
We do not hear

The world is never silent
But the underground is

How would you feel
If you knew that
The world was hollow
Held up by rifles...

Our land of stars and stripes, now glows,
with screens that flicker in hallowed halls.
Entranced humans shuffle, with eyes fixed below,
on small gadgets that have us enthralled.

Should the Statue of Liberty, our symbolic girl,
be holding a smartphone up to the world?
While tweets fly like eagles and hashtags swirl,
foreign disinformation trends as fast as it’s purled.

In lunch halls, real conversations take rest,
as influence is sought—in hoity-toity, binary quest.
Friends are backdrops—originality in short supply
as likes and shares make our dopamine fly.

America’s zombies, though ******* drained,
shuffle endlessly on, with Wi-Fi stimulated brains.
Once the land of the free, we’re now the land of tech
with minds wrecked by truths unchecked.

As we rock and sway—the new robot way—
will our old, analog-republic simply fade away?
.
.
Songs for this:
Airhead by Thomas Dolby
.
Oh, and a Christmas playlist because—it’s December!:
https://daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_01.mp3