ambrosia whisper

[quaileyedsnowfish]

Is it time to have respect
When the colours you wright are wrong ?
Is it an emty bottle your howling at
When its a triomph
Of an understanding soire
Blaze of black cat
Chalice ones more
I drink a sip of my soul
In the heat of your time
Kissing the tracks of the rainbow “you” ?
Like the pope singing out of tune
I memorise you like a guess
In the window
The days when you lost
Your loving died in the ocean
Afar from the daizes of queens
In a dream i feel your curse
Like a moon waning in my heart
And sending the kiss
To your cheeks of these day’s like a corners bar
Confessions
Oh how i quietly amaze
The storm that catches your gloomy prose


Feathers of rain
Broken soul washes away my skin
When it trickels down in my heart
The waste of agony borrows
The gimmick of this life
As love strolls down
The leaves of concrete

[Violet]

Is it time to have respect
When the colours you wright are wrong ?
Is it an emty bottle your howling at
When its a triomph
Of an understanding soire
Blaze of black cat
Chalice ones more
I drink a sip of my soul
In the heat of your time
Kissing the tracks of the rainbow “you” ?
Like the pope singing out of tune
I memorise you like a guess
In the window
The days when you lost
Your loving died in the ocean
Afar from the daizes of queens
In a dream i feel your curse
Like a moon waning in my heart
And sending the kiss
To your cheeks of these day’s like a corners bar
Confessions
Oh how i quietly amaze
The storm that catches your gloomy prose


Feathers of rain
Broken soul washes away my skin
When it trickels down in my heart
The waste of agony borrows
The gimmick of this life
As love strolls down
The leaves of concrete

You know, I do love love poems.. and yours are particularly challenging. Now, I don't know if your desire is to be kissed, or strapped down on a bed of thorns [or at least flaked coconut], and force-fed Milton and Yeats.

am·bro·sia (m-brzh, -zh-)
n.
1. Greek & Roman Mythology The food of the gods, thought to confer immortality.
2. Something with an especially delicious flavor or fragrance.
3. A dessert containing primarily oranges and flaked coconut.
[Latin, from Greek ambrosi, from ambrotos, immortal, immortalizing; see mer- in Indo-European roots.]

You know, you're aiming high, fish, with this ambrosia business. (Unless it's just flaked coconut you're after.)

When its a triomph
Of an understanding soire

I love that you term a soire "understanding".. But that it could be a triumph.. well.. you're charming.

Blaze of black cat
Chalice ones more

I'm wondering if "the blaze of black cat".. (which could be a wine, maybe, though I hope not, as its name suggests it's not a very sought after label).. anyhow, whether you meant to say this blaze of wine-induced something-or-other "challenges one more".. (as opposed to the half gibberish your over-johnned self managed to eek out before running to the clinic, or wherever else it is you're likely needing to go) (for obvious and tragic reasons). [actually, with a life style like yours, why you'd be aiming for immortality should probably remain a hieratic mystery]

I drink a sip of my soul
In the heat of your time
Kissing the tracks of the rainbow “you” ?

I rather like this segment, though I have warned you before about this "rainbow" fetish of yours. Now, this is fine for high school diaries, and plays titled so to cunningly cancel the cliched promise of rainbows with the words "Not Enough".. but short of that, I can't fathom needing to use the word "rainbow," save computer viruses, and Easter jelly beans [When Chocolate Bunnies Are Not Enough]. Seriously, fish: time to graduate. Remember, you're a sick chick desperately seeking chick lit. Actually, that might be a film title: Desperately Seeking Chick Lit.

Like the pope singing out of tune
I memorise you like a guess
In the window
The days when you lost
Your loving died in the ocean
Afar from the daizes of queens

"I memorize you like a guess in the window."

.. (do I really need to say anything?)

The days when you lost
Your loving died in the ocean
Afar from the daizes of queens
In a dream i feel your curse
Like a moon waning in my heart
And sending the kiss
To your cheeks of these day’s like a corners bar
Confessions
Oh how i quietly amaze
The storm that catches your gloomy prose


Feathers of rain
Broken soul washes away my skin
When it trickels down in my heart
The waste of agony borrows
The gimmick of this life
As love strolls down
The leaves of concrete

.. I may have to return this.. (it's gotten more involved than I'd initially realized).

"Feathers of rain" I like. But reading you requires a certain.. uh.. letting go, I suggest.. It's to dissolve to your verse the way a vigilant church goer may finally accede to sin. One is resistant, of course, at first. But then, once the fetters of reason dissolve.. or the requirements of a more sophisticated taste.. and yes, even the requisites of decency.. well.. then we might encounter a new world, as it were, in love's "leaves of concrete" [which somehow I like, actually]..

.. yes, it's a world that embraces the weary intellect [torn to shreds by now by the unyielding demands of Greek thought, perchance, or that woe to the Western Canon].. for it rewards the true literary critic [namely moi] in ways that no doubt transcend professional accolades, or even the remote chance of professional credibility..

So why do you do it?.. the reasonable reader may still insist on asking..

To which I boldly reply:

Because it was there.

(on that stunner of a note)..
'til later, fish,
v.

[Geoffrey]

Is it time to have respect
When the colours you wright are wrong ?
Is it an emty bottle your howling at
When its a triomph
Of an understanding soire
Blaze of black cat
Chalice ones more
I drink a sip of my soul
In the heat of your time
Kissing the tracks of the rainbow “you” ?
Like the pope singing out of tune
I memorise you like a guess
In the window
The days when you lost
Your loving died in the ocean
Afar from the daizes of queens
In a dream i feel your curse
Like a moon waning in my heart
And sending the kiss
To your cheeks of these day’s like a corners bar
Confessions
Oh how i quietly amaze
The storm that catches your gloomy prose


Feathers of rain
Broken soul washes away my skin
When it trickels down in my heart
The waste of agony borrows
The gimmick of this life
As love strolls down
The leaves of concrete

no good, no good at all, hopeless