POETRY - SHARDS OF BROKEN GLASS

SHARDS OF BROKEN GLASS
As real as reflections on polished glass,
Your fragile beauty; vividly dwells in my mind,
Your ethereal presence; comforting for every hour I pass,
Each minute lost in thought; hoping love in you to find.

For in sweet surrender; I drift along in a heady trance,
My soul in turmoil; gladly counting each passing day,
My feelings all on fire; yearning to get a chance,
For just a moment; all my heart’s desire to say.

But forsaken and lonely; like a lost spiritual pilgrim of old,
My flames of passion flare, and my heart burns with a crave,
My arms aching; just your supple body to hold,
So that my dead soul; can rise from this emotional grave.

Like the ocean; my heart opens wide,
Reaching out in grace; your tender love to embrace,
But my pure devotion; sail against time and tide,
And now I feel; as melancholic as a penitent in disgrace.

Daily I search my heart; but find no hate,
For in reposeful sweetness; within me you stay,
Like an angel of hope; sent by heavenly fate,
Peace of mind to give; when meekly I pray.

Now my dream is shattered,
By a painful memory; of a moment’s passionate token,
That like a raging storm; has left my feelings scattered,
Like shards of glass broken.

Poetry - IS IT LOVE OR LUST?

IS IT LOVE OR LUST?
When no word or sound is heard,
When the hint of a ravishing smile,
Like the sparkling sun,
Mellows darkness out of my heart,
Is it love or lust?

When she beams a direct look at me,
And heaven opens in my heart,
When our hearts as one twine,
Each joyfully saying you are mine,
Is it love or lust?

When I burn with fiery desire,
And desperately long to be part of you,
When your gait is a symphony of gracefulness,
And your voice a sweet melody in my ears,
That nourishes hope in my soul,
Is it love or lust?

When we fall into each other’s arms,
When our lips part in an instant,
Of eternal breathlessness,
When tongue deliciously touches and teases tongue,
In an intimacy of hot kisses,
When flames of passion,
Engulf both of us in flowery oblivion,
Is it love or lust?

Poetry - Dream from an Eternal Goddess

Dream from an Eternal Goddess

I saw all heaven and earth rejoice,
When a princess was born;
For she became a rare choice,
When nature’s splendor was apart torn;
To unsheathe her from the cloak of beauty eternal.

Then again,
I see angels sing in glory,
And dance to tunes of veneration;
For she has become a goddess whose story,
Make men in this generation;
Bow at her feet in mute supplication

And now,
Like the tantalizing aroma of lemons,
The magic in her charm and looks;
Thrills my senses as holy sermons,
From the sacred books
Can shine through the darkness in my heart.

For I dream of tomorrow,
When her affection’s effervescent presence;
Will wash my soul of sorrow,
Like a delicate scent that defies pretense,
But which overcomes the senses with pleasure.

When she speaks,
Like the tinkles of sweet chimes;
Her soothing voice echoes wedding bells,
Which softly ring all the times;
When my heart falls under her spells.

And so I long to live eternally,
And listen to her vital voice whisper
A delicious melody,
That only two souls united in sweet harmony
Can hear, so do not fear
To pluck the fruits of tender love,
And suck on the sweet juices of devotion,
I am dying to place at the doorstep of your heart.

POETRY - HORRORS FROM FACEBOOK

I have lost my soul in a haze
Wherein my heart has become metallic,
But it refuses to be a slave;
In the palace of pulses and static.

My emotions are just but bare wires and cables
In which warm human feelings are replaced,
By truth bedecked in fables;
And intimacy, dead and decayed.

So with thoughts trapped in a maze,
My heart, frail and fearful,
Quails before an agonizing daze;
That leaves me lonely and tearful.


For know I not where to follow,
To escape from this place, threatening and diabolic;
That each time leaves me afraid and hollow,
With love that is sterile and symbolic.

Now only pain and anguish awaits,
Each time I touch the magical boxes;
Where all humanity in forms counterfeit,
In subdued horrors, speak to each other like trapped foxes.

POETRY - JUST A KISS

JUST A KISS

My lovely little blue–jay,
How your plumes
As gentle as a serene soothing day;
In me triggers ripples of tenderness
And sighs
That makes my soul break forth
As a songster
Trilling a thrilling melody,
Of adoration;
Serenading a hearty tune
Of a youngster
Whispering a sweet song;
Of admiration
Like love doves cooing in a groove.

My feelings twirl, turns, tosses and tumbles,
At once plunging to fathomless
Deep depression;
Seeking, questioning, divining…
But still fumbles.
Yet again, idolizing,
Rises to lofty heights of inspiration.

I am a slave suckling passion’s fantasy,
But a child on the wings of fancy
Chanting a heart-warming song of longing
At the sacred shrines
Of your heart’s sweet affections.
How rosy and fragile you look?
Delicate shoots of new-born flowers,
Needing love’s nourishing care
Yet possessing love’s consuming power.

Mistress of my heart,
Maiden of my dreams,
How I long for you,
To be forever a part
Of this being shattered by screams –
Screams of joys never found,
Screams for love lived and lost,
Screams of delight never bound
Screams for emotion’s compassionate host,
Screams of ecstasy and expectations,
Screams of despair and dejection.
Maiden of my heart;
Mistress of my pines,
You are my goddess of bliss
To whose distant shrines
My soul yearns and searches for just a kiss.

POETRY - A FLEETING MOMENT OF LOVE

A FLEETING MOMENT

At first eye and eye…
A brief exchange, vacant.
But fleetly discreet a spark;
Of recognition – where?
Of familiarity – why?
Of acknowledgment – perhaps.
Acknowledging what…?

Then a swift turning of the head,
Eyes searching…
A false step, stumble, a crash.
OUCH! That hurts –
Rubbing a bruised temple
And burning under the baleful stare
Of a growling giant,
I croak…``Sorry…’’ and move on.
Mind searching.
Nebulous feelings, enfeebling.
Heart searching…
Then delirious sensations, a dizzying spell
Starts tingling with my nerves,
Once more I turn, Scanning…
But all I see are unfamiliar faces.
That face…those eyes…that smile!
Was it really a smile meant for me?

Hours pass, full of dreams,
Days flow, in thought filled streams
As sweet as warm wine,
Bringing back sweet memories
Of a flashing moment.


Then again, another time;
A different place, a new moment.
Another look – transfixing
Then the same feelings again’
Of recognition
And a merry smile,
And an imperceptible nod
Of familiarity
And acknowledgment –

My heart lurches, cheering wildly,
Inviting an impetuous and capricious spirit
That sets my mind whirling with thoughts…
What wonders can an inaudible sigh hold?
What marvels lies behind misty eyes?
A visage gentle and coy.
Yes – love, the endless spell of a magical look, a fleeting moment

POETRY - PROSAIC DREAMS

PROSAIC DREAMS
In torrents of anguish unmitigated;
Everyone suffers their private torments.
In moments of personal hell
Shrouded by semblance of normalcy;
No one rejoices –
In the graveyard of universal posturing.

Thought I life was as soft,
As the milky glow of
A silvery midnight moon.
But suffocating and meditating
In the dreadful depths of despair,
I still cannot fathom the mystery
For when effort unnumbered
Shout life is not benign,
The spirit flickers and blinks out.
But still –
The magnificent majesty marches on.

Though thought I
Life would be as gentle
As a placid sea,
And as sparkling as
The golden flame of a setting sun;
Now I know it is wild and wicked.

Times past,
Life’s radiant halo intoxicated my heart
Like sweet fragrance of creamy magnolias in bloom;
And thought I
It was a maiden amiable and alluring;
Seductive with rich promises
Of pleasures unimaginable.
But now know I better –
That life is a frigid lover;
A goddess with irresistible charms
At whose feet I kneel in submission,
But whose smile is scornful;
Whose beckoning is uninviting;
Whose embrace is cold and indifferent;
Whose love is a song of rejection.
And so in dejection
I am resigned to a lifetime of hopelessness
Within the blackness of a heart
Where mercifully pain benumbs
In a choreography of prosaic dreams.

POETRY - RESIGNATION

RESIGNATION
Ensnared by thought, thought and thoughts
My entire being in a life-long captivity is.
My whole life has not known,
Any moment of respite;
A minute of peace;
A second of bliss;
Nor a hint of release
From this fort of turmoil
That in impregnable majesty,
Looms large and unshakable –
A key in hand, lock in place;
An eternal and inexorable guard against escape
From this confining damnation, doom, miseries and tribulations-
In a palatable guise – life.

I am not privy to destiny’s cabinet council,
To fate’s executive seat,
And to fortunes supreme command.
This are relics from a distant and alien past
And emissaries to a bleak and sinister future.
Timelessness, it seems, surpasses agelessness,
For what does not cease with and in time?
Death? Life? Agony?

Only time does not freeze.
Ever present
Out of mind, out of space.
And how am I, a mere mortal
Supposed to contend with time?
With what am I to fill up the chasm-
This present?
How am I to dance to
The chimes of times echoing
An esoteric melody?
Only time can tell,
For isn’t it time alone that matters?

POETRY- WHEN SOME DAY I TRULY LOVE.

WHEN SOME DAY I TRULY LOVE.

When your foot-falls,
Echo chimes of affections,
By gently treading on my soul,
And softly knocking the door of my heart,
Waves of tenderness burst forth in me,
Like beautiful April flowers,
Blossoming in a thousand soft colors.

For years,
This question my life has been,
``When shall I truly love?''
And now,
Like the sun's golden rays,
Dispels darkness from the earth,
Your sweet, tender eyes,
Seem to tell me,
That some day when I truly love,
Your presence will write a song,
Of eternal love in my life.

You come to me bearing a melody,
And like an Angel of mercy,
Your love beckons me to ,
A peaceful shore across ,
A turbulent ocean,
Where waves sing songs of passion,
Songs of joy and songs of laughter,
Songs of tenderness and songs of internal peace,
Songs of honesty and songs of trust,
Songs of veneration and songs of adoration,
Songs that will bind our lives,
In a chorus of unending happiness,
When some day I truly love.

POETRY - HOMELESS

In the fading light of day,

When dark hues of evening Stealthily wrap cold arms,

Of darkness around the Smiling visage of the city:

Desperate and Haunted I feel.



Homeless I am;

And like a lost wanderer In a wilderness,

I stand alone -

An anonymous presence,

Subdued and Sad.



I am a mere shadow,

Drifting aimlessly -

Lost.

Flitting about -

Afraid,

Of the gathering gloom

Whose warning whispers

Sing a litany of pain to me;

Thus....

You are alone,

You have no home,

You are starving.



I stand at a corner,

Beneath the blazing sign of

HOTEL HILTON;

Lost in thought,

Watching countless other shadows

Milling about like agitated ants:

Hoping to catch a familiar face.

But all I see are faceless people-

Homeward bound.



Burning with the desire to belong,

I feel as though

All burdens, cares and follies,

Of this world

Are heaped on my fragile shoulders

By a brutal and merciless god.



Tis then that sadly,

I look around me, contemplating;

My senses awakening to the vicious voices

Of the town going to sleep.



All the others have a purpose;

A destination -

Wherein there are loved ones,

And warm meals,

And hearty laughter,

And comforting arms.

But I have none.



In tearful dejection

I heave a heavy sigh of resignation

I slump next to a beggar and

We exchange furtive, glances,

Then the beggar lights up,

Smiles and says in sanguine tones

``WELCOME HOME''

I cannot hold back the tears which reminds me

THAT I MUST SUCCEED.

POETRY – TIME

POETRY – TIME
Since time judges man not by value,
But by honesty imbued with virtue;
With determination
Times greatest award
Becomes a footnote of
Fortune’s humble reward
In time,
A tender bud blossoms,
And in crystallized splendor
Turns to full bloom;
So do not smolder in gloom,
Nor yet drown in wine goblets –
For endurance is a measure
Of the simplest unknown treasure.

POETRY – SHADOW

When a stranger calls,
Welcome not the shadow
For as leaves from a tree falls;
The strangers shadow also follow.
But why did you come?
For when you chanced by,
Feelings that confound and overpower;
Feelings that entrap and imprison,
Promised sweet solace every hour…
And defying all reasons
I got intoxicated in a lunacy of affections.

Thus, gently shadow,
When you passed by
Warm ripples of pleasure
Cascaded down my spine in delicate tingles;
And in compelling waves without measure
My heart throbbed in pulsations of blissful jingles
Driven by a primeval surge of fierce desires.

POETRY – WHEN YOU WERE HERE

POETRY – WHEN YOU WERE HERE
When you were here,
I looked with my heart
For my eyes saw the shadow not,
But the soft fullness of a woman’s breasts
As enticing as ripe peaches-

When you spoke
I listened with my eyes
For my ears heard not your voice,
But saw the quiet demeanor of a dove
Lost in the joys of melodic cooing-

And now that you are gone,
In moments of solitary confessions
All I know are dreams…
Dreams,
Of wild intimacy of hot kisses;
Dreams,
Of lips softening like ice-cream melting in the mouth;
Dreams,
Of nipples begging for the slavery of my lips;
Dreams,
That brings the crescendo of erotic bliss;
Hot, potent dreams,
That sears longing in my heart
And an aching desire to be eternally possessed,
By love’s breathless and all-consuming spell.

POETRY – DRUMROLLS OF ADORATION

The sight of your face,
The intensity of your love
Sets my passions on a race;
And like the brilliance of a starry night above
Your presence, lovely and comely,
Forms a halo of radiance around my heart –
Tattered and lonely
And so, tenderness illuminates my inner parts.
Time ceases, then,
A visual celebration of your image
Builds butter-soft emotions
Whose loving touch, feathery and caressing,
Invades all my senses with every stolen glance.
Time is reborn, when,
The essence of your fragile femininity
Like the roar of distant thunder,
Sets my heart-beat
On drumrolls of adoration.

POETRY ABOUT THE ULTIMATE POWER OF WOMAN OVER MAN- LIGHT ETERNAL

LIGHT ETERNAL

Those lovely pools of light,
Ringed with tiny winged butterflies;
As brilliant as dew-drop mirrors,
Warms my heart with each caressing stare.

When with loveliness your eyelids flutter,
With adoration my faintly heart stutters;
Spilling away torrents of pulsing sensations,
Fuelling flames of passion –
Making me afraid
To tread on the sacred palace of your heart,
To roam around the inner chambers,
Hallowed by concealed secrets and desires,
Lest vast emptiness I should find.

For when with cadence your voice trembles,
With trepidation my resolve dissembles,
Your tones and sounds-
Soothing oils of clove,
Scented wisps of incense;
And forever
A shimmering eloquence of love
Engraved across my heart
Like cosmic rays
Spread across the sky.

POETRY ABOUT INTIMATE FEELINGS.

A SWEETENED CUP

Enfolded in a protective embrace,
Of feelings soft and cloudy;
Of sweet sensations
Pleasurably churning in my stomach;
Your love has unfurled depths
Of wildly, passionate flowery places
Mushrooming where oblivion
Hollowed out by empty spaces,
Has within me long lived.

Like a barren wasteland,
Where no delicious fountains ever flow,
But bitter streams abound –
Loneliness is a poisoned chalice
From which lonesome souls;
In vain such for succor,
But end up drinking malice
Proffered in the hands of dejection
By a maidens cold-hearted rejection.

But you, my beloved,
Have come bearing a sweetened cup.
Your cup of love
Is overflowing and dripping,
With honey flavored emotions
Promising rich intimacy.
You, my beloved,
Though still in parts a far
Have become copious portions
Of my hearts desires and devotions,
To your lush and alluring sensuality.

POETRY ABOUT SENSATIONS - ECHOES OF SENSUALITY

ECHOES OF SENSUALITY

Deep in my heart,
As natural as the stars glitter,
Sophisticated beauty sits.
Your captivating sensuous elegance
A bold expression of artistic perfection.
Undaunted by space and distance
Currents of your vibrant sensuality,
And sonorous echoes of your lilting voice
Gently strums my heart-strings joyfully
Each time your voice tenderly calls.

Deep in my heart,
With every heart-beat
My inner self palpitates expectantly
In heroic veneration;
Awaiting to pay homage,
To your stunning and charming appeal.
In rhythmic and melodious tunes,
My heart suffuses with thrilling ecstasy
To your sounds and sighs
Each time your voice tenderly calls.

Deep in my heart,
Like the substance of dreams,
Ephemeral yet enduring;
So does your ethereal presence
Flash fires of brilliant loveliness;
Which in tender flames of attraction
Reaches out and delicately touches
Every part of my being
Each time your voice tenderly calls.

Deep in my heart,
You’ve become a song;
An eternal song,
To which my dreams daily dances.
A glorious song,
That no pain nor sorrows can erase
A soft, soothing song,
That forever will make my soul yield
Each time your voice tenderly calls.

Deep in my heart,
You’ve become a tune;
A tune of overpowering pleasure
Whispering in harmony with my spirit.
And as sweetly as saintly voices from heaven
Your laughter is a chorus of Angelic purity
That in rapturous cadence and trills,
Calms my senses into submission
Each time your voice tenderly calls.

POETRY ABOUT VIRGINITY AND MAIDEN INNOCENCE

Until I met the current love of my heart, the other woman who I madly fell in love with was Banice (name changed) my wife had been pushing me to marry another woman (something to do with traditional beliefs). I had been telling her there is someone, but when she saw Banice she refused to accept her as a co-wife. That lady was very beautiful. More than 5 years after I lost contact with Banice, her shadow still haunted my ex. That was when I learned about her intention to go back to her ex husband. That marked the end of our marriage.

PORTALS OF PURITY

To the inner most sanctums of paradise,
Like puritans to a shrine,
They troop,
Disciples of debauchery honey tongued,
To entice her innocence out of the coop.

A bird she looks,
Of rare and silky plumes;
Tender to the touch,
Soft to the feel;
But caged in hues and perfumes,
Around which they flitter,
Moths to her lights and delights drawn.

Beyond the fleshy petals
Wherein drips sweetest nectar,
Ebbs and throbs
Dead echoes of her purity.
Innocence stolen,
Innocence snatched
From its pristine cradle
By filthy fingers of dark and dirty passion.

Embraced by the divine cloak of beauty,
Saintly and sacred she looks –
An angel of damnation descended
To smoother fires of their desires,
With the coolness of her breathy whispers,
The radiance of her smile,
The gently, glorious softness of her eyes.

Oh, innocence stolen,
Innocence snatched…
And the drumbeats of my heart
Sound in anguish
With every drunken spittle,
That smears and besmirches
The delicious and delicate tenderness,
Of a face so perfectly carved
And a heart that cries for the pulpit.

POETRY ABOUT UNFULFILLED PROMISES

PARADISE?
Heaven in our hearts,
Together we begin the long journey;
Tenderness with every step
Tinder sticks for miles uncovered.
The sun rejoices,
The moon cheerily applauds,
And the stars cheerfully gaze;
Beguiled by our carefree spirit,
Our tomorrow, a vast vista of delightfulness,
Our thoughts and soul –
Wrapped in divine graciousness;
Our cries and sighs –
Celestial melodies of the Seraphim.
But lo!
Where is the Kingdom of enchantment?
The domain of merriment?
The throne of solace for which I crowned you queen?

POETRY ABOUT NEWFOUND LOVE

MY CHEERY BLOSSOM

You are my cheery blossom.
The very sight of your heavenly crystallized eyes,
The touch of your silken skin;
Warm and tender,
Like the soft wool of a mountain lamb;
Sends my soul
On a hearty trip to paradise.

You, my cheery blossom,
Are the very angel of my silver dreams,
The brightest flower in my garden of love.
You, my cheery blossom,
Are the very sunshine of my new joy and laughter;
The golden moonshine of my darkest hour.
Like sweet cheery blossoms,
You have become the guiding star
Of my heart's power and desires,

The gentle maiden
Of my youthful passions.
By your saintly perfections
And affections
You have recreated heaven in my soul,
And redeemed by life from hell.

Your elegance and charm,
Overcrowds my senses with sweet sensations,
And pleasure beyond measure.
Your kisses -
A warm pool of deliciousness,
Your lips-
As sweet as honeyed flowers,
Your breath -
As refreshing as mountain air,
And your loving embraces
Flood my being with gentle waves
Of submission and desire,
And to you
I give all myself
Your are my soft cheery blossom.

CREATIVEHORIZONS: POETRY ABOUT UNFULFILLED LOVE

CREATIVEHORIZONS: POETRY ABOUT UNFULFILLED LOVE

POETRY ABOUT UNFULFILLED LOVE

THE VOICE OF ANOTHER ANGEL.

In the darkness of my heart,
Shimmers a glimmer of hope
That streaks brilliantly unbidden,
Like fingers of cosmic rays
Across a starry sky.
BUT I AM AFRAID,
TIS THE VOICE OF ANOTHER ANGEL.

In the darkness of my heart;
A distant delicious voice whispers,
A soft sweet melody
That rekindles memories
Long lost and forgotten,
BECAUSE I KNOW -
TIS THE VOICE OF ANOTHER ANGEL.

In the darkness of my heart,
Lingers many memories...
Memories tender and tempting;
Memories warm and comforting;
Memories soothing and spellbinding;
Memories lonesome and heartbreaking;
Memories bare and unbearable;
Memories I cannot tame,
For they set my heart aflame,
AND THAT MAKES ME WISH -
TIS THE VOICE OF ANOTHER ANGEL.

In the darkness of my heart,
Creeps in an angel
Who in wonder stares
At the emptiness therein;
Then with a healing smile spares
Just a second for fleeting solace,
That fills my heart with joys untold,
Which to me seems
Longer than eternity can unfold.
BUT SOON I REALIZE -
TIS THE VOICE OF ANOTHER ANGEL.

Into the darkness of my life,
Flies in an angelic being
Ablaze with the glory of paradise coming,
While clothed in rare and delicate beauty.
But am certain
She will not be my angel,
For something tells me -
TIS THE VOICE OF ANOTHER ANGEL.

OH LORD! WHY?
Must my heart forever in turmoil grow?
Yearning for kindred spirit,
With this rare, unearthly creature!
Lord, my mind knows
This never to be;
For in the darkness of my life
There sits the saint of loneliness,
And therein,
I will forever dwell;
Watching love passing by,
For I fear to discover
This too might be,
The voice of another angel
Come to print a song of sorrow,
IN THE DARKNESS OF MY HEART.

POETRY – AN EPITAPH TO MY MARRIAGE

THE LOST GLIMMER

I lost something so precious,
Not as valuable as gold:
Because gold can be sold,
Not as sparkling as silver;
For silver's luster can rust.
Not as rare as diamonds,
For even diamonds loose demand -
But something that can never be bought.

We knew not but fought,
And the feelings away started fading,
Like the last glimmer of sunset;
We cared not but watched,
As the cold fingers of separation gripped,
Tearing away the shimmering fibers
Of love's bonding power;
We dared not but say,
That something was painfully tearing away.

So we stayed and paid
For love with hatred,
For tenderness with coarseness;
For devotion with poison;
Like water poured on a fireplace,
Warmth in our heart quelled
And hot passion was repelled,
By a mortal chill of space and distance
That sexual sensations couldn't bridge,
That no amount nor floods
Of tears could wash away,
And so in my soul,
Eternally the pain will stay
Till another comes my way.

DREAM CAGE- POETRY

DREAM CAGE- POETRY
I know you must be wondering why I am in a dream cage? It is because I am a writer and poet whose works have never seen the light of day. For starters, you can sample this poem. Dream cage one, will be the story behing this poem


COLOUR OF VOICES
Voices abrasive, voices soft;
Voices loud, voices coloured:
Some as colourful as flowers,
Some as comforting as showers,
Others as coarse as
Ground stoney and sandy-
But one as sweet as drops of honey
Lifts up my soul,
Like a thousand fireflies
Dancing to the tunes of warm dark nights
Beneath starry light skies.

A voice blue and sunny,
In a multicoloured tapestry
Of meanings funny;
Each coloured strand,
Irridescent with a new
Emotional brand,
Arching a rainbow of passions
Over the tomb of my dead heart.

But that voice has many hues,
And still wonders I;
Are violets truly blue
Like the dome of a bright sky?
Or
Is the voice a sonorous song
Whispering chimes of mystic beauty?
Please dear, tell but gently- what is the colour of your voice?
P

POETRY IN ADORATION OF FEMININITY

A BLOSSOM IN BLOOM

A blossom in full bloom?
In a desert of desire and desolation?
How I smolder in gloom,
In isolation
Envying her resplendent glamour,
So far from me flung away
Like shiny jewels of heaven;
That by day conceal their splendor,
But by night sparkle unbroken.

Oh!
How she caresses my senses
Like faint fragrance of exotic flowers,
That I can only feel
But can never touch.
And how she sets my passions ablaze
With fires of yearning,
That consumes my being much as
A thirsty traveler
Who longs for delicious mountain springs,
But cannot quench his thirst.

Oh Lord!
How beautiful?
Her hair...
Smoother than the softest fur,
Her eyes?
Make the stars shy.
And that smile -
As sparkling as the rising sun,
Pours forth into my soul
Abundant joy.

What a voice?
A voice sweeter than sublime melodies.
And her breath?
Cooler than morning mountain air.
Her kisses?
A door to boundless bliss,
Tastier than warm mountain honey
And herself?
Utter perfection.

But Lord!
Were you excited so,
When you set about
Molding this incarnation of pure magnificence?
Were you out to torment my soul?
Lord?
Could it be,
That like the shores of an alien ocean,
And the twinkle of distant stars;
So far am I from her true tender feelings?

And Lord!
If in creating love,
Your only purpose was to spite me;
Then Lord I have defeated your purpose.
For I love her so –
Even though only in imagination.
Isn't it great Lord?
Love in imagination – AMEN.

POETRY CELEBRATING BEAUTY

LUSCIOUS LOVE IN TENDER BLOSSOMS.

Luscious love in a tender blossom,

A blossom that in ripeness,

Has the fragile appeal of youthfulness.

For whenever I look into your eyes,

My heart fires with a warm glow of pleasure.

Your eyes, soft and inviting

Touches every part of my being,

With gentle fingers of sensual delights.



Like a breath of scented fresh air;

The curve of your luscious lips,

Hold lavish promises of glorious love.

I cannot help, but gaze in adoration,

At such sublime beauty,

And in yearning wonderment,

I dissolve into a mood of ecstasy.

Though for eons, this mood

Has been a stranger in my heart.



I cannot help, but be enthralled,

By the magical allure of your smile,

A smile that is as soothing as

The sight of a soft textured flower,

Ripe to be plucked

By love's magnetic power.



For alone in the depths of loneliness,

Only the shadow of your elegance,

Like the classical appeal of a princess;

Is the constant companion

Which keeps my heart tingling giddily,

And my soul, in a rapturous spell,

Sings glory to thee!

MY DREAM ANGEL'S VOICE –

This poem, like many that will follow is inspired by Louis JaberNyiri Aballa, the lady who has completely swept my heart away.

POETRY FROM MY HEART

MY DREAM ANGEL'S VOICE –

A heart tossed away in darkness,
Misplaced and forgotten:
Then in vivid starkness
A scintillating love begotten
Light pierces my hearts gloom
And dispels the doom
In which my life was imprisoned.

`Tis yet another tender noise,
Whispering echoes of feelings lost,
In a honeyed dreamlike voice,
Which make warm and silky sensations flare,
Slowly thawing my hearts frost
And twain in harmonious pair,
My dream angel releases the snare;
And my life finds freedom awaiting again.

Her beauty fills up my soul with joy
Like the scent of sweet smelling flowers
Whose fragrances intoxicates me as a boy,
Dazed by a spell of loves consuming power.
I delight in her
Soothing presence from a far,
In whose shadow my life has found meaning.

Perchance, this pearl of rare beauty is not aware,
That she is the light of my hope,
That the spirit of her elegance makes me swear
Again not to drop
To the bottomless depths of despair.
In my dream angels voice
A serene not of compassion
Awakens and recreates a new person.

Your sighs and assurances, dream angel,
Have become an eternal receptacle,
Wherein my dreams blossom forth,
Like the dazzling splendor
Of the birth of a new and glorious joy.

LOVE NOT LIVED

When I wrote this poem, I was at a point where dejection with self was just about to sweep me down the dungeons of despair. I took a careful look at my solitary existence and decided that all was not after all lost. I was craving love, a woman's tender love, so much that I found it almost unbearable to hold the physical ache in my heart. After interminably long hours of pensive reflections, a warm feeling ruptured in my soul. I thought I could love a woman in my imagination.

It was then that I got out of bed and went outside. The sky was luminously lit by beautiful stars and there was a cool breeze wafting in from the lake. I sat down gazing at the beautiful vault of the sky, and then the words of this poems began taking shape in my mind. It was about 1.00 AM. Wrote this poem to that imaginary woman I would have loved to have. The woman of my dreams. Little did I know that some day this poem would find its real owner. I have found the woman who came to me in this poetic dream, and this poem is one of a series that will be dedicated to Louis Abala Jabernyiri.I have found true love in her, even if just for a spell.

LOVE NOT LIVED
Sweet nectar upon my tongue,
Would not be as delicious as,
The caress of your succulent lips upon mine.
Your soft, and warm looks,
Are a valuable treasure,
In the deepest chambers of my heart:
To be cherished - every breathing moment of my life

N ought... But the universe dissolve,
Will anything steer my destiny,
To the nether world of Bliss.
But your sweet love;
Perchance, the only strength of my will -
Which now stands tossed about,
By the fickle wind of chance. AND FORTUNE

But knows I, Gentle maiden of my dreams,
That none sane can conjure,
The self-same wisdom of love.
`Tis unfathomable...
Thus my heart despairs,
Whenever love like a thief,
Steals into my soul

For no one;
But every man and woman,
Can cleverly choose
AT WHOSE FEET TO LAY DEVOTION.
So, abide your time;
My gentle love.
My beauteous Queen,
Seek not beatitude In fickle fortune.
But repose your dreams,
Your peace of mind In that which fate;
Has placed in store yonder,
Hidden from sight
But visible to the unseeing Eyes of the heart

For our hearts,
in desperation
Yearn after each other,
But are locked apart in mortal fight for happiness,
By the insatiable need for possession,
Possessions that sooner decay;
Even as our hearts perpetually,
Beat a solemn song of tenderness,
Of passions,
And of love not lived.

Could Our Innovation Create Jobs for 780,000 Poor People? | News | Digital Divide Data

Could Our Innovation Create Jobs for 780,000 Poor People? | News | Digital Divide Data

CREATIVEHORIZONS: JUST YOU AND I

CREATIVEHORIZONS: JUST YOU AND I

JUST YOU AND I

This poem was written for Caryl (not her real name)I was a high school teacher way back in 1995, and my students (girls)thought I was the sweetest and sexiest thing that had ever dropped out of heaven. I see myself as very ordinary looking, but on more than one occasion more than one person has claimed that I radiate and glow with a rare kind of charm.

I was in my twenties and being told by a bevy of girls that I had sexy gait and looks excited me to no end. One particularly cheeky girl would literally block her face with a book in class. At first I thought she had eye problems, but each time I asked her what the matter was, a ripple of giggles would answer me. Then one time one of her friends blurted out, ``teacher, she is afraid of looking into your eyes.'' Why? I asked, ``they make me feel bad,'' she answered. `How?' I was perplexed. Then a hidden voice gently said, ``sexy sir!'' Who was that?' I fumed. ``But it is true,'' most of the girls chorused back

I got confused and didn't know what to do. I was the only language teacher of English in that school, and I have yet to understand why somebody decided to make two particular books to be set texts at this particular time- Romeo and Juliet for drama, and The Concubine for prose. This two are stories based on highly romantic events. So you can imagine what my classes used to be - teaching love stories as part of the curriculum on one hand, and having to deal with lovely girls who would be beside themselves with excitement whenever I uttered a word. Most of them imitated the way I pronounced words and would repeat occasional phrases after me. Such incidents used to interrupt my classes and every attempt I made to bring them under control invariably led to more mischief

This led to a pattern of study - my lessons were often punctuated with moments of fun. The students themselves would then say, ``now let's carry on with the lesson sir.'' Such were the times that formed the background to this poem. Caryl was one of the loveliest girls in school. She was one of my greatest admirers. Years later when we met, she confessed that she had been and was still madly in love with me. Way back then, I think she was simply infatuated but didn't know how to tell me. Teaching ethics aside, I was not a piece of wooden carving. I too liked Caryl a great deal - the way she walked, her smile but most of all, her voice (read the colour of voices elsewhere in this blog.She was my student, so I fought hard to keep my distance.

Two events gave words to this poem. One break time- I was on duty - Caryl deliberately delayed in the dorms then after everyone else had settled down for lessons, she decided to walk very slowly, almost absent-mindedly, back to class. When I spotted her, I was furious. I asked her what she thought she was doing, but instead of appearing cowed, she smiled and calm replied, ``Teacher, I really like you - the way you talk when you are annoyed, and the way you walk.'' I had a stick in my hand. She then grabbed it, threw it aside and giggling uncontrollably, she took off, running to class. At that moment, I felt and fell in love.

The other incident took place not long after. This was during the April break. The month of April can be one of the most magnificent - what with the tender, green shots; brilliant, silver evenings and clear, crisp star studded night skies. It was against such a lovely, sun flowered evening that I saw Caryl, all smiles and sweet in a nicely fitting floral tunic, walking towards me across a field of green maize crop. I was on my way to our local market. `` I thought I would find you in school,'' was all she said and then she gazed at me with all the adoration a lady in love can master. That night, unable to sleep, this poem broke forth from my heart.

Jut You And I

Yellow, mellow and golden;
A sight as wonderous as Eden-
We BEHOLD.

Just you and I,
In a breathless moment;
Transient but everlasting;
A soothing spell -
Blissful and comforting
Makes us a pair of dancing stars in a dusky sky.

Just you and I,
Your friendly feminine flames
Hotly touching my bosom;
Yet tenderly plucking melodious chords,
Of romantic hosanas in my heart.

Just You and I,
Your joyous gliding spirit
Gently lifting my soul,
Floating light like feathers
Towards mountain peaks,
Of heavenly twilight streaks -
In blazes of pale-red, pinkish-purple and soft amber.

Just you and I
Our heartbeats jingling like Christmas carols;
Fluttering like butterflies on sweet roses,
Thirsty for the honeyed buds.

Just you and I,
Strolling across the universe,
Strangers to each other:
Yet both enraptured by concealed passions.

Just you and I,
Embraced by warm kisses
Of caressing evening breezes.
Just you - the love of my heart.

THE DIVINE WILL?

In this poem, I simply tried to question the criteria God uses to determine who dies, when, Why and How. I wondered whether, perhaps, like laboratory specimen, we are in the celestial order?

The actual incident that triggered this train of thought was a ferry accident in Mombasa. I had never imagined such a large number of people dying at once in the seemingly peaceful waters of the narrow channel separating Mombasa Island from the mainland. Prior to this, there had occurred a series of earthquakes leading to countless loss of lives elsewhere in the world. My basic question was and is - Did God create us during His free time as objects of Idle Fantasy?

My imagination was fuelled by the terror I used to experience whenever I rode a ferry across the channel. The ocean can be mysterious. This poem is a dedication to those who perished in the infamous ferry disaster.

At that time, an ominous hour,
Riding on the pinnacles of relentless power,
An emissary from divinity,
Careless and curious: It came.
Frenzied, formidable and furious-
A proclamation of the Divine Will to Kill.

Who, but the immortals,
Heirlooms of mortality through times gaping portals,
Could discern such insidious intent,
Stealthily creeping upon the earth's innocent,
Like the ghost of an alien and savage deity,
As deeply in sleep, not divine pity
But faith in tomorrow too humble
Saved us from the murderous rumble.

So we escaped!
Because it was an earthquake,
A harmless one of its kind,
Or maybe-
God changed His mind.

But not this time again,
When death slowly and silently came,
Clothed in a mist of misery and pain,
And as mercilessly as Abel and Cain,
Paid a homage of death to Mombasa.
Mtongwe Vanished,
WITHOUT SHAME!

It was all confusion,
Yes -
There was no escape from agony and anguish;
Certainly not for them -
Helpless passengers trapped in a ferry
Like sheep in a pen,
Waiting for the butcher's knife,
Only,
They did not know theirs was the ocean,
Calm and cold,
Deep and deadly,
Tranquil and tempting,
Waiting without warning to
Surprise, submerge and silently swallow
To kill.

Yes! Yes! Yes!
The waves Chorused,
While the ferry performed a deadly Dance in mid ocean.
THE SHORE AT LAST -they thought.

But time stopped in solid silence,
Expressing the Divine Will to
Still Humanity -
A token of whimsical labour,
As high on His Heavenly throne,
God gaped at the vain follies of,
Countless hours of idle fantasy;
For in a trice of time and terror
They all died lonely deaths.

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The life of a landscape photographer is a difficult one .....

The life of a landscape photographer is a difficult one ....., a photo by jeffiebrown on Flickr.

Nothing has been more inspiring to mt creative bent as glorious sunsets. The poem I am posting tonight was inspired by the sight of a beautiful maiden washed by the silvery rays of a sun setting on the backdrop of a cool April evening when tender shoots of greenery were singing joys songs of.... , Visit the post if you enjoy this

The 1.5-Hour-Daily Social Media Schedule

The 1.5-Hour-Daily Social Media Schedule

Ever More No More

The pain of not having an aim,

The pain of watching dreams Slain

By the aim of making gain,

Is a game hard to tame.

Time, they say, erases pain!

But pain stretches time forever,

Never welcoming peace again -

And so pain remains,

Overseeing the remains of dreams

Drowning in the depths of life's streams,

Whose death echo chimes of sorrow

For nothing awaits tomorrow.

Now my heart has a stain

That always will stay;

Fraying the purity of my soul,

Slowly,surely killing the spirit;

Extinguishing the light within;

Enthroning darkness evermore,

And so my life means no more.

I wrote this poem one morning when nothing seemed to make sense out of my struggles to be a writer. And for some inexplicable reason, when I started writing I was so happy but when I put the full stop, I suddenly lost grip and collapsed in a wave of racking sobs. Catharsis? Was it that!

My blogs will be about this and more. Visit and read some more here

Are Short Term Loans Really a Holy Grail to Your Finacial woes?

In thia article, I examine certain aspects of Payday Loans in the USA. Read on! -

http://www.articlesbase.com/credit-articles/is-it-easy-to-get-payday-loans-in-alaska-4366822.html

A Feast for Car Lovers

A good, sweet car is only that if you treat it like a lover, or a favorite pet. Have you ever wondered whether you truly love your car? Here, find out: 

http://www.articlesbase.com/cars-articles/a-feast-for-car-lovers-4455727.html

Data Entry Prroduct Branding and Design by CREATIVEHORIZONS in Pala, Kenya

Data Entry Product Branding and Design, Reviews and Product descriptions by CREATIVEHORIZONS in Pala, Kenya

links to Free article submissionsCheap hotels

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Herbal Tea for Good Health.

Title: The Medicinal Values Cherry Black Tea Contain.

Subtitle: Cherry Black Tea:  Preparation, Refreshing Flavor;   and Health Advantages.

Summary: Widely known for its sweetly intoxicating flavor, Cherry Black Tea; variously called – Wild Cherry Black, Wild Black Cherry, or simply Black Cherry – also has tremendous health benefits like curing coughs and relieving high fevers. One ought to know how to prepare it.

Keyword: Cherry Bark Tea.

In the past, Native Americans brewed a kind of tea out of Cherry Bark as a cure for different ailments. For instance, the Mohegans used it as a treatment for Dysentry while the Cherokees and the Meskwakis took it for sedation and as pain reliever.

But Cherry Black Tea which is today commercially sold as a drug in form of syrups or cough drops for treating whooping cough, dry cough; or simply to relieve pains associated with labor, as the Indians of old did, is also a beverage used to brew highly flavored and refreshing tea. It is an indigenous North American tree that can grow up to 80 ft. in height. Its leaves are oval, sharp tipped and have a dark green hue. During Spring it produces white flowers which eventually turn and mature into Violet-red fruits in late Summer.

However, the important thing from the tree is the bark, because besides providing the ingredient for making Cherry Black Tea, it also has medicinal ingredients with active constituents such as Scopoletin, Kaempferol, Acetylcholine, Coumaric acid, Quercetin, HCN, and Tannis

Apart from being able to reduce pain and treat coughs, Cherry Black Tea has numerous other benefits like: improving immunity, being an antivirus and a body detoxifier, lowering blood pressure, and preventing indigestion and gastritis. When cold, it can be applied as an eye cleaner to relieve eye inflammation.

As a beverage, it is quite easy to prepare. In a cup of boiled water add a teaspoon of Cherry Bark in powder form, mix well and then flavor with either lemon or honey. Drink a cup three times every day. It should be stored in a tightly closed container in a dark place.

For pregnant women or those nursing children below two years, Cherry Black Tea should be out of bounds due to the presence, in it, of Hydrocyanic acid, which is harmful in large amounts and long usage. This precaution must also be taken by people under other forms of medication, unless under the direction of a physician.

Sources: http://www.celestialseasonings.com/products/detail.html/herbal-teas/black-cherry-berry

               : http://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/black-cherry-iced-tea