gold

Dripping in Gold

 

I took her hand

and poured gold in her veins.

There was nothing more I could do.

 

 

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Something Weird Has Happened

I just got back from the shack out in the Woods ‘cause I thought it could be cool to rule the local wild for a while,
maybe bring a smile to my fairly funky face,
but it went sour
my aurum power proved dour after too few hours.

If only digestion didn’t have a bias
against the trials of King Midas,
gold causes me severe gastritis,
in agony, alone in the silence,
I had to make an alliance
with the mire I might become buried in,
and only the syrups of sin,
that is, whiskey and gin,
had the rights of alchemy to enter me.

Was so wasted on rye that I learned to fly
from a raccoon that I raced to the Moon,
she won, even went to the Sun, 
“Don’t burn up, hon!”

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Turning things to gold isn't glamorous ~ Carmello Yello

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Buccaneer

Sea of black, what is it you hide? 
Please tell me your secrets in me, please confide. 
  
On deck of the ship, blue moon in the sky, 
Into your heavy dark waves I peer and I pry. 
  
You conceal many things,  so pardon the brusque , 
I have some questions I  would like to discuss 
...thus...

I ask of you this mighty watery force,  
reveal to me please these things in due course : 
  
Tell me about how they were saved from the deluge, 
In the Ark a family protected in refuge. 
  
Or where lay the Isle of Greek titan Atlas. 
A land consumed by your eternal cold blackness. 
  
Share with me jewels and cursed pirate gold. 
Spoils in your clutches you so preciously hold. 
  
Of sunken ships and scattered bones. 
Failed quests to glory forgotten kings thrones. 
  
What monsters you hide in the dark of your deep? 
Things of nightmare that make grown men wake from their sleep? 
  
Reveal these things, so that I return a wealthier man,

Gold in pocket shilling in hand. 

With magical tales of faraway places. 
Lost secrets that lurk in your fathomless spaces. 

At night  these things to my children I'll tell, 
And a love of adventure will be cast,

Like a spell. 

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The Skin Of A Peach

Folder: 
Art, Music, Dance

user img

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THE SKIN OF A PEACH

*

The skin of the ripe peach...
pastels of lemon, saffron, pink
and gold, with a touch of crimson...
the fruit gift inside is gold or
pink...
so who can say what color peach is.


 

  -saiom shriver-

 

*

 

http://spot.acorn.net/fruitarian

http://ncpreppers.files.wordpress.com/2011/07/bowl-of-peaches.jpg

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Black Galleys

Folder: 
Cthulhu Mythos

The race of the moon-beasts

Inhabit the far side of the Moon.

Sailing Earth's Dreamlands,

In sinister black galleys,

Trading for gold and slaves.

 

Hideous to look upon,

Concealing themselves below decks

When they come into the port

Of the ever-beautiful Dreamlands.

One I recall is Dylath-Leen,

Whom no man has ever seen.

 

The horned-men of Leng,

Take care of all trading marks.

The galleys take the slaves

To an island in the Cerenerian Sea

Called the Nameless rock,

Where they are tortured till eternity.

 

The evil vessel galleys

Sail off the edge of the world

Past the great cataract in the west,

And through the gulf

That separates the Earth from the Moon.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Mythos poem.

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GLITTERING HEART

Folder: 
touch or click

 

My heart glitters at thy remebrance

Moistened with your embrace

Heart twinkles; a resemblance

My love for you; a race

 

My heart gliiters at thy remembrance

Joyious for shared kisses

Missed such glorious occurance

Body craves in emptiness

 

My heart glitters at thy remebrace

A plausible character

Deliveribility with much grace

All for you; my character

 

With much love in my heart

You are forever my gold

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

baby_boss

Author's Notes/Comments: 

One of those unkown things your heart does when you really miss someone you love!

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Silver & Gold

Not quite gold

But somehow always compared to it

I've heard of its value,

Its mention through the years

Mostly exsting in wedding bands

Or in cutlery for the wealthy.

I do not know its worth

I do not know gold's either

And there the comparisons continue

I wonder if the element minds

Remaining in second place,

Always being looked down by gold,

Its perfect big brother,

If you will.

Silver makes good heart-shaped lockets,

I'm sure it also serves

To uncover a deadly monster

Featured in Supernatural.

I'm sure silver does not like being silver.

I wouldn't want to be silver.

I think gold is what silver wants to be.

It does not want to end up a knife,

Spoon,

Fork,

Silver wants to be wanted

So much that others fight for it.

Silver wants to be looked at

For its bright color,

Not the dull grayish one

It comes with.

Silver could be gilded,

Though that would make it worthless.

But I don't think silver is that bad

If you really think about it.

Gold attracts too much attention,

While silver is a reserved one.

I know silver wants to be gold,

And to stop being compared and contrasted

Heartlessly

But maybe at the end of the day

Silver just wants to stay silver

Heart to Heart

Folder: 
Protection

I have a heart that’s made of stone

Because you cannot live on love alone

If you want my love

You will have to etch your name

On a heart that no one wants to claim

Once I had a heart of gold

But it’s since been changed to fit the mold

Of a selfish world and a tragic past

A world where gold would never last

Then you came with a heart of fire

Blazing flames climb ever higher

The heart of stone can feel its glow

And stone becomes like melting snow

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Children Of The Earth

Squandered without consideration,
A heartless act of bitter vengeance at the world,
Feeling rejected, ejected from familiarity,
Contemptuous and scorned younglings,
Unarmed and void of forbearance,
Becoming a vacuum for anguish without release,
And a mirror of community neglect,
Reflection of parental confusion and malevolence,
Rancid energy bouncing out and back again,
Like a lifelong game of handball with societal ills,
Defective skills, knowing no better,
Seeking no end, with peace undefined,
Due to taking root in a life unkind,
What will grow in this wasteland?
Putrid soil of chemical waste,
Splintered shreads of nothingness,

Spitefully believed to be gods,
Dreams, falling to ash like rotted flesh,
The shells of what once sustained hope,
Lying in the cocoon of human ignorance,
And no returns of virtues past,
For the sake of reaping a fool's gold.

 

© 2013

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This poem is about today's youth.

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