Nesreen

The tempting, dancing Nymph performs her chore,
unfolds in air, resplendently and splays
datura flow in mind her moves implore,
her vision passed.-  a wraith on thoughts, she stays.

Upon her altar sacrificial tolls,
her face, her scent, will challenge and indulge,
manipulates and in half light, enthralls,
ethereal to conquer and divulge.

Instinctive ancient dance, the crowd accourts,
she flows in veins, red aconite domain,
no fate will be as sweet - but one she thwarts -
as thousand lengths to feel of brunette mane.

And triumphant aggresses with applause,
(blade-splendid in her bedleh and shalwars) ,
unfolds her wings, a desert hawk that claws,
betrayed male minds with apathy ignores.

She dances, and her jingling cymbals rings
incursion of a deathly whiff and rye;
monotonous the Dervish siege she sings
for victims of her charm, eager to die.

© Georgios V. 08-25-2013 All rights reserved

Clubbing on

Clubbing on

The rooster jumped o'er the fence,
cause craved on clubbing on to bask
and gallivant forever, thence
throughout the day and after dusk.

He danced in classy cabarets
where birds enjoyed to fox-trot
his moves jaw-dropping as all pets
were clapping hands around the spot.

Alike a Pro he trotted on
the marble floor, outwearing all,
his Leghorn structure lithe and brawn
his stare all chickens to enthrall!

Thus, dancing, he became a thrill
upon the jazzy floors and decks,
inspiring hens to use their quill
on poetry where art reflects!

© 2016-01-02, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic tetrameter)

The sailors stand

The sailors stand

The winds have been their faithful friends
who divvy naught - solely sing
when midnight in the seas suspends
when stares in darkness tend to cling.

Their messages exclaims of mind,
the bluish vastness shroud and berth,
shall tomb in depths and thus enshrined
perchance abide by lands of mirth.

Their ancestors and maids of brines
- sea nymphs of valor and of thorn -
foam ceremonial designs
to host the venturers and mourn.

Cause it is said that three fates weave
with harpsichords alone to play,
upon the bridge of cargo cleave
while ghosts afar the tunes convey.

The sailors stand upon the stern
when nightly stars the dawn bedeck,
the maids of brines on minds discern
fixate on waves their stares and beck.

© 05-18-2015, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic tetrameter)

Celebration day

Celebration day

The sea birds sat upon the wharf,
our dusky friends have been the shades
and the transmittance of our days,
is floating on the ocean surf.

How beautifully words gather
in solitude to build her form,
rose petals wreath inside the storm,
- was I her soul's ideal lover?

As soon as bells of Sundays ring
decode designs on ancient loom,
what students in their course assume,
geometry on blackboard clings.

How Oxford blue the harbor is,
befogged the town's  horizon hides,
fair constellation - unknown brides,
Athena's blest, my soul's aegis?

The sea birds sat upon the moors,
and waves explode to windward foams,
the tiding in my glancing roams,
meanwhile withdraws to verse detours.

Along the aural sceptre of morn,
(Soft and inspiring silence is!) ,
across the exploding water's bliss,
as soon as windy oaths are sworn...

... maybe if we reasoned with gods,
they'd recreate our school years' play,
revive our celebration day,
on peaks where versifying molds.

And if we smiled at the wharf's sorrow,
wraiths shall return and join in mists,
amid new rhymes and palms kissed,
our celebration of tomorrow.

© 2013/01/22 G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserve
(Iambic tetrameter)

The sea-waves touch

The sea-waves touch

The sea-waves touch your open palms,
along the shore, the waters lead
when stormy sea, henceforth, becalms
and tide engulfs what skies forbid.

When solemn eyes their oaths avow
and roses beckon on your dream,
reach out and find his drifting prow
aboard the trip's perpetual stream.

Cause thoughts, like boats, contrive amiss;
for those who lived in old realms,
eternal love's confession is,
the touch of sea, upon the palms.

Perchance the mistral glances pledge
as drifting made the skylines' edge.

2013/12/19
© Georgios Venetopoulos All rights reserved
(Iambic tetrameter)

Bergamot

Bergamot

The ridge, beyond, outlined his scope,
the Elysian fields, in distance, graphed,
the mizzle fell - perchance she asked
if one could rise beyond the slopes.

A climber walked upon the ridge,
where nothing was but flimsy clouds,
a bergamot and mindful doubts
have passed across the timely bridge.

The climber saw the clouds disperse,
in air the town was hung, and Halls
invited only drifted souls
- defined his effigy and verse.

Amid the dancers, courtly laced,
a graceful Princess smiled at him,
the bergamot was there to hint
unrealness is always braced.

Beyond the ridge the Angels roamed
(or were the clouds that turned to rain?)
the bergamot sang a refrain,
upon the peaks where spirits domed.

('The climber flies above the ridge,
the climber laughs while dancers bow,
the rainy waltz transmitting glow,
becomes the Princess on the bridge.')

Unspoken was she and the crags,
returned the bergamot's refrain;
Oh, her beatitude's soft rain,
washed down the slopes the verse he sang.

 © 12/12/2012 G. Venetopoulos All rights reserved
(Iambic tetrameter)

rooster au vin

rooster au vin

Out on the faraway of Spring
the wraiths tap-dance atop the fields,
with cackling laughs, their magic wield
inviting innocent to swing.

Our donkey left the barn last night
pursuing, so, a gracious mare,
a whir became on stardom glare
enchanting young jennets on sight!

The chickens started to escape
because of a bewitching coq
au vin in sauce, was cooked in wok
- his specter blitzed on Concord grape.

Our precious cow (miss World was called)
wore ten inch spikes, a mini dress
and jumping round, fast to egress,
engaged the night - wild-thing, un-stalled.

Two versing hogs were cuckoo-spelled
and oinking Shakespeare's sixth sonnet,
spiraled afar, thus treasured pets
on website poetry excelled.

This Pandemonium's trick song
our grandma sang; her broomstick climbed,
with a 'yeehaw' she left and rhymed
new magic flying to Hong Kong.

Nigh this Catastrophe's attacks,
the neighbor's daughter dressed like ghost
to whistling sent her sweet riposte
and much was kissed, upon the stacks.

© 12/19/2013 Georgios Venetopoulos, all rights reserved
(Iambic tetrameter)

woods of evergreen

He knows the dance of lines at night,
 and their expanding, wayward trip
the perils and the clipons grip.

Convergent margins still unite
 where once per life, lines sternly meet
to make the skylines incomplete.

The scenes recite and years invite,
 abstruse the range, lift and share
the precognitions blue affair.

His mind abides the beaming light
 as thrust draws close the distant knots
and his horizons linking thoughts.

Where braves their destiny incite
 as lines embellish this decor,
where scenes return to years before.

Defiantly his words indite,
 what his third destiny perfects,
trajectories of skyward wrecks.

Where braves amid the mists ignite
 their speeding dreams of years eighteen
and turn to woods of evergreen.

© G. Venetopoulos 12-23-2013, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic tetrameter)

The Lords

The horses gallop in the mists,
transporting messages of war,
the trumpets echo o'er the hills,
and innocent to Gods implore.

Behind the wall's notches the Lords,
stare at the fires in the dark,
the stallions, impatient, snort
meanwhile non-combatants depart.

From mountain-tall descends the brave,
adjudging wrought his double axe,
he sends the enemies to grave,
barbarians to mortal stacks.

Along with him invades the force
of soldiers killed and bridal maids,
they sway the swords without remorse
to massacre the drove by blade.

Behind the wall's notches the Lords,
hark to the galloping of hoofs,
in armor wrought invade the hordes
inside the smoke of burning roofs.

© 2016-12-09 G. Venetopoulos, All rights reserved
(Iambic tetrameter)

brassy tones

I shall remember you, she said,
cause roses spread their shades of red,
threads twined and weav'd on canvas grid.

The leaves turn flavescent, she said,
because the springtime garlands fade,
adornment hung on lonely door.

Her figure blended in the mist
in thought became a bride unkissed,
the mizzle droplets shine on road.

In air descends her misty veil
devoid the streets her scent inhale,
marquee of jazz is his abode.

The cadence of his heart - her grace,
reflecting light upon railways,
her glancing stays on nightly fields.

His brassy tones in rain embraced
and wet his fingertips outraced
her lines of face - caressed eye lids.

Arrows of thoughts conduct his quill,
destined to leave, alone and still,
the cloudy hues color the shore.

The Fall defines his quest and role,
his trumpet plays its nightly toll,
recalls in dark, her kissing mead.

2013 © Georgios Venetopoulos All rights reserved
(Iambic tetrameter)

Sockspeare, Thou!

Sockspeare, Thou!

Tonight I sensed the arts' demise
and thought of thine indecent writ
which could be used to kill the flies
that buzz above thy perfumed feet.

To liberate what's kept inside
thou must allow'st thyself to dart
where inspiration, poisoned, died
cause of thy mindless abstract art.

But this is wrong! The muses went
(because thine odored feet emit
condensed that deathly worn socks scent),
outside to breathe! Lickety split!

Thy mind, surprisingly, expressed
what could be taken for die-verse
tormented nostrils were suppressed
their agonized intake was terse.

Thy fans, inhaling the extrait
those well worn socks let loose with pride,
decided to command in verse
what should be buried cause it died.

They called it 'poem' but was known
that flies became, somehow, extinct,
bystanders ran to wear cologne,
thy Sockspeare theme was, thus, succinct.

Those blackened garments, worn around,
with plastic sneakers, bought on sale,
became the cause the fish have drowned
and deathly scents were to curtail.

Please tell us why thy socks perfumes
became the symbol of foot-prose
dug up feet-ology exhumes
what should be listed to dispose.

© G. Venetopoulos,10-13-2013, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic tetrameter)

jaw-dropping moves

jaw-dropping moves

The rooster jumped o'er the fence,
cause craved on clubbing, so, to bask
and gallivant forever, thence,
throughout the day and after dusk.

He attended classy cabarets
where birds enjoyed to fox-trot
his moves jaw-dropping as all pets
were clapping hands around the spot.

Alike a Pro he trotted on
the marble floor, outwearing all,
his Leghorn structure lithe and brawn
his manly gazing to enthrall!

Thus, dancing, he became a thrill
upon the jazzy floors and decks,
inspiring hens to use their quill
on poetry where art reflects!

© 2016-01-02, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic tetrameter)

Black Engine Draws

Black Engine Draws

We heard the hoots' becrowing words
foreboding of our steadfast griefs,
they fled to dusk - two mourning birds,
life's borderlines and false beliefs.

Two birds have pass'd in gray and black,
straight arrows fled to vanish yon
our longest trip on railway track
bemocking company and gone.

Upon our train have sat the birds,
the passengers won't go to stars
but neither will their versing words
that rhyme with unforgiven mars.

Unmoved the riders in the cars,
suspended is the pilot's gaze,
the rails become two iron bars
and death's advancing mauve bouquets.

The heads attend the engine's chug
like dancing poppies in the breeze
and none among us will debug
why are we Charon's invitees.

Black engine draws upon the rails;
the pilot, coolly, searches fore
subsequent the foggy veils,
our caravan of wagons, wore.

The souls, imprisoned, trail along
the pilot engine's wordless rites
and wait through nothingness and wrongs
the train to reach uncounted heights.

© 01-19-2013, G. Venetopoulos, All rights reserved
(Iambic tetrameter)

College verse

College verse

Forthcoming boats, the streamers ply

along the edges of the pier

and by the skylines' blue frontier,

where waters follow mists and tide.

The day is absent - (maybe not)

pristine, on thought, adorned the drifts,

away from corals and sea reefs,

- where pridefulness became a knot.

The vineyards, now, surround the rails,

arcane the train, in distance fades,

the northern gusts and dusky shades,

became his friends, along the trails.

Upon the railways, trips are long,

remote banquets his paths ascribe,

where passengers of time transcribe

how honoring expends the wrong.

Denoted moments, College verse,

their distant lives, to then direct,

her laughter, threshold to project

the springtime fields of blooming thyrse.

Attracts him back where times portray

her solving of the maths on board,

unique of thoughts, his smiles award

what her acoustic chords convey.

© G. Venetopoulos,07-20-2013 All rights reserved

(Iambic tetrameter)

College verse 

Thistles

Thistles

The mist diffuses in the air,
white molecules disperse around,
perchance two singing solitaire
unseen are in the dark surround.

Along the path new buds have grown,
the foggy landscape to adorn,
and propagate with names unknown
mid thistles' purple bloom and thorn.

The olive trees array in lines
and nightly birds with squalls becrow
reminders of the gulls in brines
the seaward routes, so, forego.

Unspoken stand the trees in dark,
their silence is my honored guest,
two stars above me smile and spark,
complaisant to a void request.

© 05-18-2015, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic tetrameter)

Thistles 

Well, I declare

Well, I declare

On artful prints her beauty dwelt

diffused in haze, a pristine bloom,

ethereal her figure svelte

and French perfume.

Well I declare, her love I sought,

unplaced on canvas her response

so diffident her stare and thought,

of renaissance.

Alike a dancing muse she stepped,

her graciousness a veil of night,

caressing wave, the shoreline swept

her smiling bright.

Upon the sands she coasted then,

of Springtime incandescent beam,

an everlasting red cayenne

and fervent dream.

A classic arts connoisseur,

well I declare, my reddened rose,

I yippee yipped with spree and spur

and kissed her nose. :)

© 2014-09-06, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved

(Iambic tetrameter - Iambic dimeter)

wore suit bespoke

wore suit bespoke

They prompted my request's constrain,
- the ghostly harbor and sixth sense -
I knew the mowing death's sequence,
- same notion haunted me again.

Have heard the windy, short advice -

of those who left along their pride, 

and sailed on the ocean's tide,
"disputed man must be precise".

The storm was thumping rhythmic waves,

the fates demanding new death tolls,
in town the women wore black stoles,
the 'killed in duel' dwell in graves;

As dusk befell, our vessel moored
inside the port on shoot down's edge,
much red was shed on cypress sedge,
my instincts sharpened and inured.

Tall stood he on the wharf, I knew
the ropes were whipping on the mast,
we drew the guns, he lifted fast,
my guns shot down, respect to ensue.

I felt the slug, he moved across,
already a ghost on moorings stood,
I tasted blood, got up, I should,
with red drops staining grass and moss.

(I saw her standing on the field
amid red poppies and tall trees,
her thought became my holy shield,
bestowing forth, her grace in breeze.

She spread her arms and called me aft,
above the clouds to Astral Halls
cognizing specter, flying waft
where blinking stars transmit their calls.)

Was wearing hat and suit bespoke

with people watching me round-eyed;
perchance a dueler did die,
as darkness wore her reigning cloak.

© 08-05-2012, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic Tetrameter - revised on 2016-08-05)

The weaving song

 The weaving song

The radio messages have warned
cause fates designed our last escape,
their weaving vocals singing mourned
behind the weather's hanging drape.

Concealed the routes, spilled wine,
blue ribbons o'er a twilit throne
discolored undulate alone,
seas destined are our crew to shrine.

Her windy assonance I knew,
befallen soul's charisma lost,
enthralled she, so, my nineteenth ghost
in orchards of engaging rue.

The ribbons beckon neath the stars,
while ocean asks his crossing tolls
the scythes of Northern swanning calls
conduct our unforgiven mars.

Beneath the sky, invited groom,
the maiden sensed my solemn bid,
my weaved fate on ancient loom,
the ocean depths' insatiate greed.

Begotten valor, thistle proud,
she threaded her betrothing due,
and o'er the brines, engulfing shroud,
our ship encompassed and crew.

© 05-22-2015, G. Venetopoulos, All rights reserved
(Iambic tetrameter)

Consonance

Consonance

Beclogged his mind attempted to
assemble words and make them rhyme
two chicks inside his dancing shoe
arpeggios sang about lunchtime.

The consonance of birdie chirps
commixed with his tenor vox
to harmonize with gurgling burps,
the gulps of beer and chicken squawks.

With half unfolded, haggard eyes
he dragged to the kitchen fridge,
should dormant senses misadvise
cause grogshops intellects abridge.

Four sizzling, with butter, eggs
prepared thereon the ferrous cast
were ravened as the froth in kegs
quixotically quelled, unglassed.

© 2015-08-31 G. Venetopoulos, All rights reserved
(Iambic tetrameter)

Thracian Eve

              Thracian Eve

Subsequent, the fog walls act,
(dance solitaire of its white sway),
the sovereign of woods display, 
- adaxially, his life protract. 

Amidst the woods and in the haze, 
(diffused in air's the misty light)
advertent nymph in veiling white 
- and ancient their spirits' phase. 

An aisling, she appeared, and ere 
her solitude his stare absorbed 
she spelled his name - a song birds curbed 
- betrothal mountains' claim of e'er. 

A melody of singing aves 
upon the slopes where lantern-moons, 
interconnected with the tunes, 
- aloneness of her festal Eves. 

Belike beams floated on air streams 
the Gods invited while fog's soars 
agremones clothe ancient wars 
entwined with Strymon's seaward themes. 

Aberdevines on Thracian wold 
and nightingales' expanded song 
the mountain mists embrace erelong 
- abthane the temples eyes behold. 

Her flight has reached the ether's heights 
steep slopes that mortals followed thence,
amid the thymes their lives commence,
when nightingales invite the nights.

© 05-24-2013, G. Venetopoulos, All rights reserved
(Iambic tetrameter)

Thracian Eve