#frames of mind #surreal and #sublime #poem a-day #blogtramp ray

Settling Softly A shivering shrill, in dusk forsaken In misty moon glow, dusty glitter flickers, ‘Cross fluttering flares from strobe beacons In shadows flashing, evening's cast This calmness is unmistaken The whispering wind sighs through the reeds Then shrivels along a rippling, watery wake In a wrinkling pond where boats are docked Weeping willows arch, rattle and rock Sounds are heard brushing against my window On Clear lake where crystal stones shimmer And ring, from a whirling aurora That swirls and swings, so soft and sweeping Like a multitude of streaking rainbows Tranquilly sustained, cradling, Weeping streamer, somber and slow Dancing pirouettes round the loon who floats Way in the distance drifting deep Into this collective, quietly swaying sleep Softly settling silence keeps Symphonic Embers in her eyes, they sparkle, Tiger striped, in shadows I jump through full moon-hoops, to marvel Within captivating orbs of smoldering mahogany, Oracles through oceans of reflected stars In other galaxies afar Although a hostage, I must carefully explore She takes me where our breathing turns to dusty nebulae She carries me through cluster crystal glimmering frost She stares silvery moon-flares Through a meteor shower of anxiety It navigates a path of free feelings, Floating in a calm oblivion, Amidst full catastrophe From fallen stars colliding Her peaceful, wondrous reassuring eyes Evoke no question while my wind-cradled mind Does simply follow her divine example As if I’m swimming through a still reflective pond with her, To settle in a serene sleeping dream of oneness Sensual and real Our spirits fuse together in an ancient, empty canyon on a milky moon We make love within shadows, While a drizzling glitter falls We drift off further than perception Carried by the kiss, which is our gravity While lady infinitys' mothering eyes cry splendors' tears on our newborn bodies Million year old crevice caves of death turn quickly into shimmering sweet and living love lagoons So spiritual So Symbiotic Resonating, rhythmic hearts, one beating Shivering in a star-frost whisper Like a humming lyre Feelings that can never swell, then disappear, Like tingling kisses on a breast We are sustained, everlasting and Symphonic Raymond J. Scott, July 22, 2003 So Deep Rhythmic to my beating heart And chiming mind We are essence that glides, Without breaking Like diamonds, not scratching Sharp and shining Hot blades on cool ice, skating Deep Not only our eyes Our souls Passion’s kiln, it burns within me Every inch of my body swells In heat from her radiant beauty She kisses me so passionately I’m thrilled I’m cooled By the ways that she can touch me Soft to sleep, Held in her breast Sighing, soothing, breezy breath She gently touches, She’s my soul-mate artist And we’re each other’s muse Sustained for ever, She plays the strings within me Not only in the waking hours In softly swaying silent sleep She’s a once in a lifetime dream So deep So deep Beauty-fulled, Belinda-Belle Beauty-fulled, Belinda-Belle Blond bombshell She sells Avon day to day She’s aesthetically refined Cosmetically divine She’ll revolutionize the world someway With her compact contusion blushes And masque shades of multi-layered pain Yes, the first important step To a beauty-full knew-you Is the proper foundation She’s manufactured her face so meticulously I’ve seen such empty whored-art in billboard industry She stuffs the appetites of thousands who’ll objectify her which compliments their massive capitalistic appetite For constant gratification She’s been schooled with all the other perfect, broken porcelain dolls Inside of mother’s locked glass cabinet And all around are scrutinizing funhouse mirrors She’s scarred beneath a caked on paste She’s afraid to go home Because she’s not sure where that is She’s punishing herself by looking beautiful By running into his arms The jade shame in her eyes still shows Beneath the rouge and blush Beauty-fulled Belinda-Belle Blond bombshell Just graduated at the top Above the lesser low-shelf dolls She now sells door to door, by phone, in chat-rooms And whores around on infomercial, web cam auctioneer for her hooked addicts Family men n’ business types that haven’t found their God just yet but lost daughter years ago, while focused on their own big dreams, the mood is set She’s obsessed with being main stage pop queen She’s starving to be scene! She hardly sleeps at all For every layer must dry If she smiles, she will crack She can’t afford it The cost to reapply But she’ll always exit stage left The storm gray flooding sorrow in her vanity mirror eyes will probably never subside