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satellites,seamen

blue grapes, at late, drapes of black orange
hurls passion for the sea pleasure of satellites
wiry, but that was caught by birdsongs
and a colossal twinkling of the nights sea creatures

in an avenue for all living things colourful
ballerina of circles, she might compose
tresses of pink emeralds, mauve blister squash
dances for the derailment of aged oystershells

also finches on doormats lost its colouring
the seamen whose benign dances, lifeless becomes
illuminates, the stars shall shine but gloomy
chased like the rain from the clouds lamposted

and that episode they were called- chime chandeliers
ornamental pigeon pips, peeps, cracks, creek cables
scallop slideshows monuments of lights poltergeists undimmed
to eye, is of the knowledge beatific portends

giving its fairest of measures such chaplaincy
and sacred to those that reach for perfume splendor
eyes closes, this dazed negate of its potency, hasted
mounted on the face of nitrogen, bliss magic

to see, and tragic crepuscular lunar and plural
not one, not two, but we are all myriad pearls
in whose image feeds itself of nothingness, when we die
'tis that we are, nothing that we know, where to be found.

charming to willows unraveled diocese anode
magnet repulsive and diodes- die odes hushed
and quite shanks to know quiet nothing disturbs
on verdure, can a new groom of morning?

of illumined thronged caves to the weeping outsiders
bearing gladness of crystal rivers, ransomed brightness
foaming on the drear oceans deep, unmoors star?
to worship on mounts of its extravagance, for the stars kneel

Editing stage: 

Comments

over the face of the ships grace
and willows be ripped from their
banks by floods
and wither in droughts
until untold
the dust be mud
to mingle in seas
of effervescent illumination
in the passage of swift
stirring
the swirling wake
of words
in turbulent mind
melding
created poet
verve

"Weeping outsiders"

an intimate line
I like this!!

for whom
the Insiders
the seasoned dell

Thank You!

Well, I don't know what to think of this
On the one hand it just seems like a wall of unrelated words, on the other, some rather powerful visualisations are evoked. On the whole, the poem makes no sense to me, but I love many of the lines, especially the last

lol - my not understanding means nothing - I can be quite thick at times
Love judy
xxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

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