A prelude (i) and a sonnet(ii) about the painting 'Café Terrace at Night' 1888 - Vincent Van Gogh
SONNET XXI - ABAB CDCD EFEF GG 10 syllables each line / #ak_sonnets
/ Café Terrace at Night /
i. Night is black or what's left in the absence of light Eigengrau fills outside eyelids, seeping into the world Devoid of a sun, devoid of colors, devoid of a medium To differentiate the scale of hues a mind maps within
One night, nose buried in the middle of a novel While Morpheus was charioteering around, except nearby I came across a vision wrapped in lights that spoke about nights Or it could be just that night, that escaped from expanding greyscale
A cafe corner at Arles was untouched by black but Drenched in hues like no other, this is a night so young To even a soul like me, timelines past its existence This is a night that gifted me a rare rêver of richness To ponder again on bleak nights and turn them rainbow-looped And in swirls of a sweven, my lashes stroke over hues, rest of my nights
ii. Yellow hues made nest under the terrace Blue depth branch the sky in rich tarpaulin Forlorn fossils ash-dappled the street's race Treasure-keeping all porous and phthalein
Long nights are possessed by ghosts of passion Song glides along scarlet veins in leisure Nyx's silhouette lures eyes to obsession Drunk sensibilities shade-stroke pleasure
Debut of the starry night scintillates Far view fervour suspends proximity Darkening glow contrast salicylates Picturesque from the paling dimity
Motives multitudinous unblacks dusk Lanterns in azure-drip furbishes lusk
[ The floor seemed wonderfully solid. It was comforting to know I had fallen and could fall no farther. -Sylvia Plath, ' The Bell Jar ' ] Yesterdays + Today's challenge - all words and phrases
/Prose + Sonnet SONNET XV - ABAB CDCD EFEF GG /
Sanity's Sail ~
Something was strange today. The cold breeze brushing past my face had numbed my senses and the scent of a distant lover unsettled my inner storm. The floor beneath my feet seemed like lava lapping my console and the ceiling above my head seemed like concrete contempt.
Mystic mist of misfortune that awoke my slumbering peace and swallowed my sanity fogs the entirety of my abode. Mirth metamorphosed into Sword of Damocles hanging over my head. Mysterious melancholia permeates the peace in solitude and horrors are haunting the hallways afront.
What have I done for the fate to forbid my future in lieu of fortune ? • • • I pressed my love inside an old journal And let my pen trail my true emotions Frozen flowerets breathe on prose curtal Mind, a kite trailing the wind of notions
I cradle my broken childhood in lieu Holistic livelihood in denial Miserable moments array in queue Butchered trust in the grips of betrayal
I wrapped my heart in paperplanes of past Embossed with morse code, morsels of musings Apple to my aching soul, ale aghast Whimsical wild wings worn, wierd cravings
Sufferings are soft taps of life before Wreckage floods, swallowing peace in mind shore • • • Inside the chamber of chagrin, I etch my pain on papyrus petals and mould them into beguiling blossoms. Crystal tears cascading from obsidian orbs form constellations that shine in the sunken sky of daydreams.
Unbeknownst to me, prophecies echoed in the empyrean,
" The stars in your eyes shall live longer than history For they hold scars ablaze with fire of will and The storm and thunder stirring inside your heart Shall conquer all worlds waging wars against each other For they rain renaissance and worship worth in words "
Something was strange today. The Zephyr that woke my slumber have resolved my penance and the golden silence I envisioned have settled my inner storm. The floor beneath my feet seemed wonderfully solid and the ceiling above my head seemed miraculously métier. It was comforting to know I had fallen and could fall no farther. All there's left for me is to arise from these forlorn flames.
Early spring smooched heart of shrubs evergreen Water vessels of seeds in plant's womb rose Celestial corymbs then blossomed serene At tail end of longing stems sweet buds chose
Flower head, panacea of solitude Cwtching souls in bloom, like delicate petals Unity essence, unrobe multitude Showy rings, dipped in vivid hues sepals
Emotions heartfelt waft efflorescence Express agony and apology Enumerate each style inflorescence Thanks, Grace, Purity, Romance, Royalty
If these blooms could tell tales, each breath in art They'd whisper, " You're the beat of my heart '
I was born, a cerulean celestial corymb among the valley of solitude when early spring smooched the silent shrubs, impregnating them with multitude flowerets fated to sing blue balladries, pen dulcet sonnets and annoint apologies and etch heartfelt eulogies. As I arose to the warm golden rays tickling my delicate petals, delightful euphoria showered the silent valley in bliss. Plethora of my petals bowed to the benevolence of spring enunciating my gratitude. Flutter-bys with frail wings aroused in my seeds, a forbidden love. Zephyr caressed my hues, blessing me with panacea of heartache.
Eventually eventide arrived and along with that his soft footsteps. An ethereal prince homing crystal galaxies in his orbs. Soft rays of sunset glistening the dripping pools in them and silver rivulets cascading down his cheeks, streams of grief. He chose me among millions of florets in our valley, chanting hymns of loveless hearts. He whispered to my heart, an apology to his frozen inamorata, their broken bond which I'm to bend with my spells.
Holding me close to his beating heart, I could listen to all his truths untold. He lost himself chasing the reflection of a kaleidoscope, a loosen kite in the endless empyrean. His heart ached for how his amor resembled me, her heart dying thirsty of his love, negligence fading nuances of life in her soul.
Unbeknownst to me, he had walked into a forsaken valley of death. A flowery casket awaiting him in the half-lit corner. The last of Moonbeams revealed her pale face, a breathless beauty. He laid me on her bosom, tears falling like over-pouring rain. With my last breath I mend the broken bond of love by bridging a broken heart with a deadbeat one.
/ You're the beat of his heart /
He cwtched my frail form Apologizing amor Frozen in casket My last breath as adorned wreath Life lost, not his love for her
Change rose thirsty of lost love Can forlorn love bloom ? Can love lose ?
btsloveCan forlorn love bloom?.... Your mind your thoughts Never fail to amaze me and your reader
This is mind blowing
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Hues though vivid, ink is integrity Papyrus heart pearls verses verity
* * * Indigo splotches absorbed by parchments Neither faded, nor erased, remain immortal Kaleidoscope of ink, touchstones of time Tints and shades of beguiling blues Adorned the papyrus of welkin Tales live through ink for time infinite
My heart is so heavy with truths untold Often drizzling and pouring inky rain My stories uproot my pains, words unfold Slicing my void, soldering my complain
My poesy, scented in gruesome grief Aligning lexicons lamenting loud My letters, laurels to aparitif Appetite hunting metaphors confound
My writings are odes to woebegone days Slithering down the walls of memories My tales are forlorn dreams reviving ways Seeking hiraeth, wanderlust reveries
I paint poignant portraits within my soul I pen tales of wretched hearts, hard as coal * * * // For what is heavier in this world Than a writer's heart ? Deeper than ocean beds Higher than mountain peaks Wider than vast empyrean Louder than Love // * * * A writer is an amalgamation of several souls Arresting Amateurs, Beguiling Beethovens, Clandestine Coelhos, Delightful Dahls Everlasting Emiles, Forsaken Fridas Galvanized Goethes, Historic Hugos Intuitive Ibsens, Jarring Joyces Kaput Kafkas, Longing Lessings Mysterious Miltons, Nostalgic Nerudas Opulent Orwells, Promising Picassos Quintessential Quasimodos, Radiant Rowlings Sojourner Sylvias, Terrific Twains Uber Updikes, Vagabond Vangoghs Wishful Wordsworths, Xenial Xinrans Yonder Yeats, Zealous Zolas
// A writer revives rusted memories into ruby refrains //
Awaiting beauteous blooms redolence Eccedentesiasts expected birth Horror to the mass assuming fragrance Aurora's veil slipped, stinking them in mirth
Rebellious Rafflesia blossoms in pride Emitting the stench of decaying meat Rebelling receptor cells, gag and chide Nervous neurons react, proves to effete
Carrione corpse arrives scavenging preys Odour of rotting flesh surrounds the air Betrayal inherent, ensure species Spineless Stapelia suicide fair
Aroma of Amorphophallus stinks Enchanting effervescence wishes sinks
* * *
/ Abhor Assumption of Aromas Accept Inherent Odours, Nature's Order ! Who births Petrichor Perfumes and Funereal Flowers Breaking Masquerades of Eccedentesiasts All Scents are Fair in Creator's Gracious Garden /
@clichepenname these types are easy now. I don't know how good it comes though. Thank you so much I've tried a Villanelle long before. It isn't that good. I was a baby mirakean. Still is, but I tried again !! I'm interested in syllable poetry maybe !?
Nightmares, deceitful dreamscapes in full bloom Plagued by phantoms and phobias intense Pledged to thwart resolves and conjuring doom Nocturnal reign of horrendous incense
Nightmares, dulcet days into doozy dreads Imprisoning solemn souls, salience Reminiscence morphed into raging threads Binding, breaking bones, slaughtering solstice
Nightmares, dangerous daggers vowed to drudge Serpentine morphine sworn to secrecy Haunting cerebral reflexes to plunge Anger... agony... guilt... anxiety
Nightmares, malignant and maleficent Musing mystical minds, fears feculent
* * *
My nightmares are slaughtered crumbs of creamy dreams Buttered in beguiling blues and wounds oozing scarlet Wishes, songbirds awaiting freedom from rustic cages Wailing and screeching for a refuge in isolated islands Syllables, sonnets and soliloquies scream Etching the pain in my inkpot mind with trembling quills Nightmares keep itching my scars, until I bleed blues Numb mind and frenzied fantasies dance around flames Like a haunting ritual, they keep luring my soul to sin Like a broken record, recurring cacophonous symphonies
/ My nightmares are maleficent masquerades In the nocturnal ballroom of doomsday ruins Where Melancholia broods and insomnia blooms Shadowing my daydreams like moths on dandelions /
Once upon a time in pastoral tale A shy little lamb foraging for grass Heard footsteps following trail, and grew pale Noticed wild ferocious lion trespass
Lion put on an act, played fond, cunning Lamb in a dilemma, decides to wait Dread filled lamb, when lion said, "no running" He wanted a feast without putting fight
The predator approached the prey to sniff Under the disguise of a wishful kiss Facade broke as soon as he caught a whiff Final silence of lamb, was lion's bliss
Pain of the prey is predator's pleasure Conjure, vile ventures to any measure _______________________________________
Love is no longer a fantasy fable It is anything but a fabricated facade That the lion fell in love with the lamb Why would a ferocious roaring predator Fall for his innocent whimpering prey Bloodthirst would dominate any bond No love is unconditional except self Irrevocable in love is naively suicidal
Eyes of the devil and mind of evil Forever will play the masquerade Tamper the truth with a sly smirk And gamble with lives like a game