Tag: aesthetic

Love poem: Skin (like a lavender sky)

distantcaveLeave a comment

Welcome to my poetry website! Each poem ends when you’ve reached the SoundCloud application at the end of the post. Please donate so I can continue my dream! Https://www.paypal.me/LilacDoveCA

Love poem: Skin (like a lavender sky)

See, if I speak with you
I’ll fall in love with you
All over again like an emerald green sky

Girl in a lilac sweater
Has never felt better
Than laying in the bed of your pickup truck
As you pump gas
Turn skeletons into ash
Move like a menace, kiss me softly like that

You do the things you do solely to see how I’ll react
But your closest friends would say you’re more good than bad

Love poem: Skin (like a lavender sky) : continued

So I pause
Traceable glances, your advances
Trail like a navy fleet approaches the bay
Quietly, surely
Ready to devour me
Keen on microwaving things that are sour
You turn entanglements of the moon into long-winded stories
That few follow along with because inherently they don’t make sense
Tar coal cave of parasites & diamonds
Get your house cat to take care of the housing market finance

A river in the rain – water swallowing water, absorbing its high electron state
Collapsing at the edges
Falling through graphite
Notes on my bedroom walls because I forget lavender interior paint is not a chalkboard
A vessel for immunity
Estranged from the community
You only feel close to because you share a hometown with

Love poem: Skin (like a lavender sky): continued

I’d read you my words, that I rehearsed
Collectively failing to portray the argument that I thought I had right
Your posture will take with you to the grave
The handwritten collages I made
Of your favourite leaves to give to you for the holidays
What a girl
That sure thought

It would last, like it couldn’t
Like the fever wasn’t on fire
The skylight not screaming at me – “Go home, he’s worked too hard”
To tear society apart
For a girl whose art

Revolves around being in love & staying in it

Love poem: Skin (like a lavender sky): continued

See, if I speak with you
(On the top of the aircraft, there are more pretzels)
I’d laugh with you
Make you smile and that would be too much for me to

Fall in love with you like a crisp lavender sky

You do the things you do solely to see how I’ll react
But your closest friends would say you’re more good than bad

Love poem: Skin (like a lavender sky): continued

Patient and holy
This girl is only
Made of so much skin

Patient and holy
This girl is only
Made of so much skin

If your friends jumped off a bridge, would you
If your friends jumped off a bridge, would you do the things you do
If your friends jumped off a bridge, would you
If your friends jumped off a bridge, would you do the things you do

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Love poem: Satin sheets/myelin sheaths

distantcaveLeave a comment

Welcome to my poetry website! Pink poems are love poems & blue poems are more general “life” poems. Each poem is interrupted by photographs and ends when you’ve reached the Soundcloud portion. I’m currently testing a Push notification application. xx

Myelin sheath: an insulating layer that forms around nerves, including those in the brain & spinal cord

Love poem: Satin sheets/myelin sheaths

Softening
Softening once more
Softening even further, forever more

This gentle life
And you wish your poetry posts got as much attention as your self-portraits do
How’s that supposed to feel?
I’m in knots, I haven’t not gotten over you
Arachnids spinning cobwebs in my mind
The glass mirror looks so good, so perfectly together
You would smash it to pieces if I’d let you just try

Standing on the edge of a river
Pebbles holding me, I hold them back
I am safe with myself
(I am only safe with myself)
How’s that supposed to feel?
Adjust my glasses & play with the cobwebs
I’m spinning like an obsolete carousel in violent orange & blue, wicked flames

As arachnids spin webs in the tiny spaces between my neurons
They know the pharmacology I don’t
They watch the synapses like cityscapes
Like a vintage cinema screen
How’s that feel?
How’s that feel to me?
Hold the cross on my necklace to remind me that there’s more
There’s more across this river
Want to lay down, but I don’t think I’d ever get up from this
Bed of flowers
Holding cobwebs
Paying attention to what nobody pays attention to
Dream world for sure

I’m a very good swimmer
I can’t even fake drown
My body sure does love me
And I love it too, for the first time in twenty-something years
A drive-by shooting that sounds like bursting fireworks
Illegal in California but on wholesale in the suburbs of Texas
The wildlife
Skips across the myelin sheath of my brain
How’s that feel?
How’s that really feel, to me?

You’re mowing your lawn & cursing every girl you ever met
Honey, I can’t get behind that
The fuzzy pedals of arachnids
Sewing me white satin dreamscapes
Dissolve right in, come dissolve right in
Not my time to free you from the confines of your mind

The arches of my body
Oh, they love me, they really love me
Neck pain so bad it wakes me up in the middle of the night
Play your electric guitar,
Solve your computer security program
Do it far away from me
I’m kissing spiders when I sleep

Oh, how much they love me
Oh, how much I love them in return
Maybe they’ll rearrange my spinal cord
So I won’t have to hurt

Then I won’t have to hurt
Arachnids sewing me white, satin dreamscapes
Trembling softly, getting softer
Forever more

Oh, how much they love me
Oh, how much I love them in return
Oh, how this city feels
Like it’s evacuating me

Trembling softly
Getting softer
I’m in love with cobwebs that are in love with me

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Love poem for him: earthquake

distantcaveLeave a comment

Love poem for him: earthquake

You know I stopped myself before I could love you
But
We broke apart
And I can’t help but stare
At your blank, sad face
And the only thing sad about it
Is that you’re not afraid to let me go
You’re not afraid to let

I tried to wake up
But I’m always on the wrong side of the bed
We never got to have that night in the hotel
We never got to have that heavenly first dance
The first and the last pages don’t make me too sad
It’s the way the world turns
Your fingers latched on
Not very tight
Like a blouse that’s unloosened
A foggy memory that never becomes clear

I’m trying to relive the skyscrapers and unraveling chaos
Though all that comes to mind in abstract vision and delusion,
Is you screaming in my direction
Telling me to stop
Telling me to stop
Telling me to stop

What makes you so afraid
To show love to an unloved person
The way you play guitar
It makes me so sad
It makes me so sad
Not for anything do you feel bad
Like grey, fallen embers on a cold winter night
Even though you’d say you’d never
Be there for me
Your sovereignty
Your power

And I remember you
Telling me to stop
Telling me to stop
Telling me to
Telling me to stop

Feeling the things that only I do
The distance that separates me from jagged, carbon you
In ocean waves, we grasp at what feels familiar
What’s underneath us will quench our thirst
Yours, preferably
Mine, isn’t regarded
Unless it’s four in the afternoon & the sun is piercing your nerves
Telling you that these antics are your last fatal curse
I’m far removed
To tell you the truth
I do only the things the boldest among us do

I don’t wait until there’s nothing left to take
In the distance between your brown eyes
And these soft, fallen embers of Victorian blue
Crawl back
Crawl back
Panic attack
Mesh and in pieces
Forgive me for grieving

All ends in love, and love has its reasons
Come find me
Come find me
Come find me
Come find me

It’s so unnerving
Like an earthquake on purpose
It’s so delectable
Like you’ve lost your ability to reason

I’m always portrayed as the one who leaves the throne
Gown is disheveled, porcelain skin intact
Like an earthquake on purpose
Telling me to stop

Feeling the things that only I do
What has become of rage has given its way to you

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Love poem: Sweet nectar

distantcaveLeave a comment

Love poem: Sweet nectar

It’s the waves of sadness that trickle with madness
As I cascade onto the lost heavenly golden shore,
Like a goddess from a stolen shipwreck,
I swim upstream, like an airplane in the wind
I won’t press send yet
I’ll leave you diamonds and all of your belongings, arranged into their definitive but transient places
Sprawled amongst my living room
Garments, piles of yarn & cotton
I thought I had it, but my god I’ve lost it

The breathtaking splendor
Of an afternoon in November
When you cradled me like a little baby in your mariner’s arms,
Like a tomboy
Like a child
Like with you, I’d happily run wild
Any day of the week
Do you mind if I speak
Or leave love letters, here and there, for you to read
When your eyes are
Closing
In-between somber nighttime
The stillness I could never objectify

A smooth transition
Won’t you pay attention
I’ve got my hair in curls, a floral neckline
A passerby’s time
Glance at the clock
I almost forgot
I have to let the sheep out before the wolves come back
From hiding
They do like to do that
So rambunctious and eerie
They paint me quite freely

I do love their art – I go to all of their showings
Even when they take place on a Tuesday, or Wednesday, and I’ve got more work to do than I can account for

I’m a lady of charm
And you’ll always find me armed
That part you can disregard

Glock 23 G23 Pistol Semi Auto Firearm Handgun Schematic

I won’t shrink in your presence
I occupy a throne
I go to places where most would be too scared to step on their own
It’s my afternoon glow
When you find me on that smooth soft-stoned path,
The dismay leaving my eyelids as I cast you not an ember of a doubt
But a becoming smile
Welcoming
Almost
Briefly
Weeping
Holding to you closest, what you want most

And that is?
That is?
Something to never be replaced
Something I won’t touch lightly on
Whispering to those in particular who have the patience to sound my vowels and consonants out, deal with the aftermath
Elegantly
Soft in the evenings
Rambunctious – they all are
Their witch hazel broiler room ticking clock
Like apricots at a wedding
In the middle of February
For no reason, no reason
For no reason at all

I sat down with you, there, close to the prisoner’s fence
I wanted to inquire whether you loved me
I can’t remember what I said
But I did
And that’s that
You’ll run me a cold lavender bath
Finding my hazel glow a little too appealing
Hopefully, I hadn’t been too revealing
The room is spinning
And I am thinking

You’re like sweet nectar from a flower that’s never been held

© Elle Silvestrov

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Free verse love poem: Speaking volumes (white florals)

distantcaveLeave a comment

Free verse love poem: Speaking volumes (white florals)

I’m in the pool, with your gentle gaze moving toward the horizon
Smooth riverbeds, crashing yet
Solemn
Tender in their collapsing wake
My sovereign ways trap you like hurricanes
Find slumber in the rectitude of my rendition of a classic painting of a
Prince attending to a young queen
Dismayed at her place, though in a quiet peace,
That glances violently towards a moral upbringing
A softness I couldn’t portray

The Dressing of the Favorite (1857), oil on canvas, by Henri Pierre Picou (French, 1824-1895)

A sea-foam fog dynasty I swore was mine
I told you the truth
It mattered to me
I found thoughts in my mind that I couldn’t hold back, entirely
Though I did my best,
To provide you with rest
My satin sheath, vibrant with scarlet cardinal fibers
The delicate breeze, like rapture
Golden but never, truth be told, reflecting lightning that makes marks in the sky
A tribute to no one
Is every structure soon to fall down?
The bolts unfastened, my lace dress & ultramarine form
A silhouette only God could have created
A boldness that scares away anyone who isn’t
Strong enough
To hold a woman in his arms and
Not want to change her

The light pink August calendar I have on my contemporary glass tabletop
That forgot the date when we
Began things
Paved was our course with giving looks at each other like we’re in a vintage film
A theatre for just the two of us
Hopeful dedication
Watching our past conversations and having new conversations about those from before
We don’t run out of things to talk about
But when you find me watching the cars on the road pass by us, viciously,
Counting the trucks
Taking note of their model and make
You see something in me that I could not tell you
Not because I can’t find the right words
I always find the right words

Along the Siene, Winter (1887) by Frederick Childe Hassam (American impressionist painter, 1859-1935)

I don’t know what you know
And I don’t know if you know me
But when your gaze becomes increasingly familiar, I cascade into a
Reflection interrupted by the silliest words you stream together
A childlike ambiance, golden in accuracy
Crisp like a wave’s current
Interjected with passing a cigarette lighter
Getting higher
From rays of the subtle light of day,
Muted only in temperament
Dulcet on the edges
I told you I was yours
I meant it, of course

Le Baiser (The Kiss) (commissioned by the French state in 1888, carved between 1888-98) by Auguste Rodin (French sculptor, 1840-1917)

We stop at the gas station; you run in to the corner store; you bring me honey green tea
For your girl (that is a friend)
Patient and kind
A dove’s brisk white feathers
Softer than mankind
Rougher than a woman’s fingertips
Comfortable in the chaos
Surrendering to a time when you could count the green specks in my eyes
And smell my white floral perfume

It seems as of now we have moved on to the Heavens
Where you call me Venus
And I mistake you for someone I’ve never known before
An oceanic climate to the boulders we create
When we feel inclined to say
Why do I like you so much?
Why do I like when you’re rough?
I do still find, thinking to myself, whether I’m good enough
But when the porch light comes on,
I move the thought along
To the binder where I keep my disarrayed opinions
Resolving to find
Some water to allow
My throat to stop tightening when I get up during the night
Patience, my ever-present accomplishment, finds its way to you
Presenting an elegance you couldn’t get from anyone else

Improvisation (1899) by Frederick Childe Hassam (1859-1935), oil on canvas

I find myself in spaces
When you are absent
Distress being transient
Because your face is

A discernment I couldn’t get from anyone else

The Aleutian mountains and the disintegrating cliffs
Couldn’t mask the foundation I thought we’d bring
Resolving to find
Some water to allow

My throat to stop closing when I sleep at night
I wonder if styrofoam composure could fail to observe my fright
To weave in serenity in light shades of pink,

On days like today, I’m unsure how to drink
Come, lay in bed

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