summer in poetic ode

Aug 19, 201114 min read

Deviation Actions

By

Published: Aug 19, 2011

706 Views

HeliocentricityYou were always like staring into the sun.
The Dog Days suited you.
I drank you in with all the secrets of the last September
Dripping down my chin like peach juice.
You met me in barefooted heliacal trysts
With morning's razor clarity tempting the sun into the sky.
I told you that when you laughed,
I could see the Dogstar under your skin.
You traced my summer lightning veins
As forest fires burned away your gasping lungs.
I double-dared you to brave the natural disasters
Without a thought for my own inborn double-helix fault lines.
But autumn's haunting took more than just the blazing leaves:
It tore your writhing will to fight from your chest,
And when we lost the sun again,
You didn't stop me choking on a rising tide of apathy.
Darling, all we ever were was summer lust
& heliocentricity.   if we were the night.your silver-plated dreams
taste of strawberries and candle wax,
slowly dripping through the ceiling
and humming cicada songs to the night.
(i wish i could be that beautiful.)
but nightmares flicker in this lightning-struck sky,
a smiling circle of piranhas and parasites
that sink into my skin and swim through my veins.
and now there are two hours until sunrise
and i can feel a heartbeat screaming down my spine
and rocking your bones like a lullaby.
and all i have left of this insomniatic night
are the fantasies you've hidden beneath my pillow
of sunlight and stars, seaglass and scars. June RoadworksRibbons of shining cars:
The countryside in parts
Will always be ours.
Drizzled in a distant June
as silver lace, let smoking
breathing moonlight race
in living strips, let temple steps
be made of every smiling road,
through fields that flashing, leapt by swift
as hedgerows drinking yellow dust,
that floated in a silent drift
and blew around there - missing us.    an elegythe last time I saw you was soaked in summer and
sweat: four-square and hop-scotch abandoned on the
blacktop.
we wearied too quickly of childhood games.
your good-bye was drenched in distraction
and heat,
a long drawn-out lullaby
withering on unsteady wings.
I tried to say it simply, but my poetry got in the way.
I tried to evolve into the dust between your
eyelashes,
so that maybe a part of you would come to be
encased within my ribs.
I never could let go.
your smile faltered into the most beautiful
decay
I have ever known.
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry
and now that summer has
faded
into an elegiac autumn,
I still cannot find the words.
what I thought was a soldier was only a toy-
I'm only as brave as I seem. PhoenixOur bodies complained,
groaning for a violent renewal
of flesh.
I summoned a deity from the faucet;
Through the tumbling roar
I called you in,
HOT liquor pumping through sturdy vein.
Lava-born slabs hungrily hugged at fabric.
Inexperienced cotton collapsed
its wrinkles,
straddling each bulge and groove
with virginal precision.
Flame in eye,
all retrospect went swirling
around our toes. ode to boardwalk romance.a sultry evening:
amidst sweat pooling in the crevices
of wide-awake bodies,
the quiet, steady thrum of
arousal grows;
twinkling eyes dim the moon's
light; too much acrid ammonia pulls opposites
closer, "together" lets its sweet ache go
singing through cognizant veins. and,
equally, forever's scent plunges ready
hearts into the depths of this season,
into broken E strings, rough
lust-drunk nights, lost keys,
Ferris wheels, dizzy words,
too much sand left in sandals
to remember the heat by.
   FingerpaintingIf you draw between stars,
below the summer, into
the strings of broken cellos -
dawn and dust alike are
somehow beautiful.
Even the sun makes sense
when it shivers in silence;
when the grey weaves thin
spider-veils over the light.
And if you draw between miracles
to crisp apples and yellow roses,
the illusions are tangible fleshlings.
Somehow the world is thicker
beyond the realms of second-sight. :thumb122626716: celtic knots on my finger topsthe sun is shining on my feet and i am thinking
about the curls of my hair and reflections and water.
the washing machine grumbles away,
and i hide from the fresh breaths of newborn season
behind these flimsy walls of bricks and duty.
how i long to steal some bread from the bread bin
and find a lake somewhere. to walk in the light, of my own vocation.
water ripples and dances and catches the light
to and fro, back and forth -
can you catch the light without sinking?
i can. my heart was born to beat in the summer,
with muddy feet and green stained joints
(grassburn is the coolest flame you can touch)
quenched with dew and the windows only let in
a little bit of what we can hold.
baby steps, the clouds puffball out and they say
spring. they run like lambs over our land,
our soulstones, our mountains and our homes,
our green hills curling an old tribal song and
the dance of silent forests, where silence is a million tiny noises
and you. my eyes were made in winter, my hair in autum Siren of SummerI am the princess of the grass
   when summer comes calling.
Naked toes curling deep
into the verdant blades of the land;
this is my kingdom.
My subjects are the bees and multicolored moths
   of gold, cobalt and russet.
The gossiping birds soar into my court
bringing tales from afar
of love and death and life.
I make my bed among the sweet smelling wild flowers
   and whisper my dreams
to the insects close by.
We watch the parade of clouds
as they sail through the sky.
I am content to be.
I am content in me.
I find the sun wishes to court me,
   to reign alongside
the princess of the grass.
Blazing boldly forward he showers me with warmth
kissing my skin and leaving his mark.
I breathe him in
   drowning in his intoxicating scent.
His seduction shakes the heavens
calling the cleansing calm of rain
and the riotous bluster of the wind.
Unafraid of complex things as these
   I fac tulipa.I only ever saw it once,
its forgotten snowsilk drifting
on the breeze.
Pale corolla shimmered in the grass,
standing out against the green
of the meadow.
We lay down amongst the emerald feathers
and the daisies, bathing
in the warm daylight.
Your eyes were so clear in the sun,
glowing with reflected radiance.
We sighted the sole blossom,
white against a foliate crowd.
A soft reminder of flawless flora,
now drowned in paints and tints,
marinated in perfume.
I couldn't bear to pluck it
from the earth,
to let the pale perfection wilt.
I smiled, and let it lie.
You held me close, and
with a sensation of soft lips
against my neck, I closed my eyes,
dreaming of a silver land. Summer StormWith drumming fanfare does rain smash
Upon the richly clovered grass
No breath to pause, the lightning strikes
To usher in these summer nights.
Flowers flicker through grey-lit air
Plaintive stems swept tempest-bare
Then, just as sudden, all is clear
All foamy clouds have disappeared. OccasionLaughter with sunshine,
Vitality, hope, promise.
Elusive summer. Your SummerAbove the church and through the field
The path you tread is virgin to
The footsteps of man.
Cresting the brow of the bryn
You are carried as a feather by
Soft breeze and grassy undercurrent
Till you reach the tuft of red flowers.
High above like some majestic airship
Sails the dramatic sheep-white clouds
That are manoeuvred around by
The too-bright sun.
Dressed for the picnic in yellow dress
And French straw hat
You serenade yourself to the private idyll.
Being but perfect, you invite nature's
Orchestra to accompany the private serenity.
Though the music your own work, you know not what
Plays or how it is played,
Only that it is here.
Unspoken sleeping tongues
Find their voices in you.
Soon, the sun winds down its dial
And the night stakes out the sky as its own.
Knowing you must flee before the dice,
Grass stained legs and moved to motion
Downwards ever downwards to
Day old path and church hamlet below.
Summer sleeps, day disappears,
Only the owls and bats stay up with
The gloried ni City HeartbeatsI taste like the hands of decay,
of pomegranate and meringue
in the hot summer breeze,
tongue heavy
with the soft fur of moths.
two lovers curl together
in The Cross,
a rosary of sighs
embedded in the flesh.
Hush, they whisper, hush
as bluebirds wake the morning
a chorus
with cicada thrum.
it's in the cutlery tango,
in guava sorbet
at a quiet cafe.
it's the sound of gravity,
the weight of a prayer
pressed into an eyelash.
it's in the tuneless hum
of the city at 3 a.m,
a soft cry in the night.
it's under the flicker
of yellow streetlights,
in the slow
shuffle
of passers-by. Summer monologueThey all say its around here
somewhere:
The inherent thrll of summer rain
on sunflowers,
The passion of forbidden fruits
on discovering the red grapes
were sharp sweet cherries.
Wel, its enough, a handful.
Its heard: the second week of the
lazy summer and she's already batshit insane,
But, there was a day
planner where she wrote
it all,
Staccato japanese figured
detailing bitter and
broody beliefs
And how cherries were like
bleeding, raw flesh.
She longs for the dark sand
squealching between spread toes,
Still white, nicked by broken shells.
Never one to let a muggy storm ruin
her day. If the castle falls it can
be rebuilt. Always.
To pick fat blackberries off the dusty
sides to prove the sun is endless-
it seems so,
At least to a girl who would pick the
cherry clean before the next one comes,
To whom wind-blown, sun-bleached cliff
tops down to rockey shores takes Time itself
so the wind and the altitude are true.
When there were names for each of the
seagulls and never the best shoes the pool- in summer.i. the summer shower
beat against my shoulders
like pebbles on fire
and i turned the water all the way to cold
and wish i could do the opposite
with the rain.
ii. the concrete scraped
and tore at bare feet that didn't care,
because we imagined
soft grass and butterfly wings
at our fingertips,
and our footprints were made of blood.
iii. the sandbox limited
the sprawling golden
waves of a desert, but
we couldn't ever see the fences,
only the too-clear ocean
that tasted of too-clean tang.
(iv. we don't have
summer anymore.) prairie summerit's the soft traintrack pitter patter
as the rubber dances across iron
and the alternating thud and crunch
as feet hopscotch across the ties.
it's the grasses rushing in waves,
a tide of yellow waves laughing
as they race to eclipse one another
in their race across the humid plains.
it's the way the water saturates the air
and you beg for release, praying
for some drop of mercy to find its way
to your burning bones.
it's the crash of lightening against the deathly sky
as your prayers are answered,
rendering you silent
as the incoming storm.
it's the whisperhush winds, the trees
calling names to the sparrows
calling names to the shadows
calling out for the sun.
it's the way laughter falls like rain onto parched lands
and the taste of loneliness
stinging your eyes
like the early morning sun.
it's the calluses you keep
until you know not where your bones begin
and the daring undersides of your feet end.
it's the permanently tattooed freckles across your nose
and the dusty highlights in y TrystThe lightening-flies shy from the firelight.
Overhead, a heat-swollen sky
kindles blue flame strike on the horizon;
a promise of storms to come.
Basted in sweat:
the form of silhouettes
against a wet black night.
The moon, master of the tides
wields no power over
passion plays and bodies entwined.
And in the morning
when they wake to songbird cries
they will whisper bitter treasons
"it was lies, all lies…" Dog Days

These days are dog days;
The stuck-in-between-fall-and-summer-like-gum-in-between-cement-cracks
Days;
The droopy dog ear days –
The clear-sky-grassy-dirt-slobber-ball days.
The barbecue days,
The leaning-rake days;
The sunny, leafy, ice-pop-licking,
Hard-dry cement days.
The muddy days, the swimming-pool days.
Days for you and me;
Days for us three.
Dark-night, big-light football-game-starry-night
Days.
Days for dust, and
Days for dirt.
Haystack days.
Cloudwatching days.
These days are for you and me,
And the stuck-in-between-fall-and-summer-like-gum-in-between-cement-cracks
Days of the city.

^{drop by, enjoy, be inspired, and give 'em a little love.
happy reading!

,
Avallynh}

© 2011 - 2024 Avallynh

Comments25

Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In

Thank you so much for featuring me. I had gone reclusive at the point I got the note! I apologize! *hugs*