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26 August 2008

What is an Image?

A moment of emotional instances of time
As complex or as simple as a brief thought.
Abstracts caught by poets making a rhyme
With a pen just as they were taught.
Surreal nature trapped by colour in paint
From artists who see with their inner eyes.
Photographs of the mind, intense or feint
They stay as a reminder as time flies.
Hold the moments that make those brief images
For when you take trips on past pilgrimages.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Rebirth


In spring the birds will wait for love to come
As rays of sun like golden fingers pluck and strum
The strings of nature's new guitar of life
And daffodils that sing in wakerife
To spring creating lazy hues
The shades of yellow winter's dues
Like washes fresh and new
From brush on canvas slew
The spring that nods
The art of gods
On Earth
Rebirth

wakerife – Scots origin meaning wakeful

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Hell's Kitchen

In the kitchens of hell the oven hid,
Trembling with fear from the glowing furnace.
Anger and rage were brewing under war's lid
A storm stewing in the depths of darkness.

Sins so deadly combine inside the fire,
Avarice and envy sparing in flame.
Lust in confusion of a love's desire
Fingers pointing with no-one left to blame.

Over-indulgence pitted with hunger
Whilst fools laze in the comfort of false pride.
A world of vice left to the fear monger
And those with no care along for the ride.

Look beneath with thought pry under hell's lid
And see for your eyes why the oven hid.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

25 August 2008

The Calling


A wild Pagan heart that beats strong
And dances to flutes of Pan.
The way of Old turned me from wrong
I'm proud to be Pagan.

From spirits surging through her core
Mother Earth made her call.
A gift of love revealed in lore
Of Ancients standing tall.

A wild Pagan heart that beats strong
And dances to flutes of Pan.
The way of Old turned me from wrong
I'm proud to be Pagan.

I found the true goddess of light
As I sought my answer.
Deep within the darkest night
Saw the silver dancer.

A wild Pagan heart that beats strong
And dances to flutes of Pan.
The way of Old turned me from wrong
I'm proud to be Pagan.

A vision to my eyes so blind
Led to the Pagan path.
Away from the past, a new wynd
To a place at her hearth.

A wild Pagan heart that beats strong
And dances to flutes of Pan.
The way of Old turned me from wrong
I'm proud to be Pagan.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Sailing Oceans


Remember how we fell in love, my dear,
As sailing oceans to New York last year.
While wearing a sombrero you asked me
To dance to love's song and melody.
The trip wasn't cheap but worth the hard grind
As love was a treasure, an unplanned find.
Dropping defences the walls of my heart
Sweet sugar cubed moments saved from the start.
Technology of e-mail send a word
Unspoken by voice forever heard.
Words of passion and full of deep meaning
Eyes now shaded by rose coloured screening.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Hymn to the Gods


Forces of nature, hail to Thee,
From here on bended knee.
The Earth Mother graces us with life
To live free without strife.

The blessings surround us each day,
The tree spirits shelter our way.
The song of life is ours to dance
With passion and romance.

As our feet walk upon her soul
Let truth remain our goal.
In hope and faith let there be trust
The light of all life our lust.

So smile as you see Her and greet
The Earth sings 'Merry Meet'.
By the will of the gods ' Blessed Be'
With peace She lets us live free.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Brief Intro

A writer of poems at forty
A lady but not of leisure
I live in England, how haughty
My pet cats are divine pleasure

An eco-warrior I be
A wild Pagan heart is my treasure
Words and pictures set my mind free
My pet cats are divine pleasure

Now learning to write with flow
And classical beat to measure
Form poetry now needs to show
My pet cats are divine pleasure.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

21 August 2008

Where it was Dark


The lights of city life are drowning the stars
Endless droning from the slow moving cars
I long for the country, the song of the lark
Where silence reigned and it was dark.

The stars were alive with the radiance of day
As the owls called softly on the hunt for prey
Lost to the mayhem of city life
I want freedom from the rat-race and strife.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

My Heart Draws a Dream


When you love me I feel alive,
Without you I could not survive.
You are my passion, basic instinct,
Every breath feels fresh and distinct

As your lips brush my ear
I lose the nightmares and fear.
A kiss, my mind lost in concious stream
The artist within sketches a dream.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Love Concealed In the Rat Race

As the last beams of the moon kiss the night
Stars towards the morning sky drift
Dancing memories tickle at the feet
Lips murmur softly at dawn's caress

Without thought or loving remark
Shared moments lost in the daily rush
Lover's sip coffee then with a parting kiss
Pleasure forsaken employment remains

Meeting schedules overcrowding the senses
Passions forgotten as work life adds to the strain
Lusting for love now a fading illusion
Desires of closing another deal intensify

Touching keyboards with deadened minds
Treasured fantasies become lost dreams
Hunger for glory and power can be replete
Love dissolves with industries action

Hidden Poem

As night
Stars drift
Dancing feet
Lips caress

Without remark
Shared rush
Lover's kiss
Pleasure remains

Meeting senses
Passions strain
Lusting illusion 
Desires intensify

Touching minds
Treasured dreams
Hunger replete
Love action

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Let Me In


Fur wet and matted
From the incessant rain
His cry, a soulful 'meow'
'Let me in'

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Leave Me to Bleed

You leave me hanging for your touch
The brief moment when blood you sup
As in the pain of love's snug clutch
You fuck me up

In dazed confusion of desire
Agony burns yet still I feed
The masochist will play with fire
Leave me to bleed

The tainted dreams now taste of sin
When love is sweet wine from queen's cup
Then pain will die where love begin
You fuck me up

A lone where none can care or prey
A place in heart where love is freed
In tranquil rage, please go today
Leave me to bleed

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Just a Boy


Stood beneath the station clock I wait,
Make-up fixed as my nerves start to tremble.
Apprehension inside growing as I watch the gate
As the crowd for the next train assemble.

Eyes slowly move to the clock, quarter to eight.
I wonder if the ad in the paper was right,
And then hope that his train isn't too late.
The letters exchanged, yet still I feel this fright.

'Pull yourself together, girl, it's only a date!'
A brief hello at a nearby pizza bar.
The letters it seemed this was our fate,
He's just a boy, me a girl, we could go far.

Why worry if the need for love we sate?
Oh, why can't it be easy to find the perfect mate?

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

First Song


Mary, Mary was quite contrary
With a garden all prim and proper.
No slugs or snails invaded,
Even greenfly came a cropper.

Pretty flowers all in a row,
No weeds to spoil the scene.
A garden that's simply idyllic,
A place of peace, so serene.

Tricks of the trade I think
Weed killer, slug pellets in a tub.
A carton of 'Miraclegro' too
So she could have the perfect shrub.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

18 August 2008

The First Person


In my own way from where I stand
I see the light through glass
Above my desk, a brush in hand
I paint the view from class.

The trees all dressed in shades of fall
A leaf of red meets eye
As amber leaves in drifts now sprawl
My mind the first to sigh.

The winter's wind begins to blow
To bring the chilling hoar
So Mother Earth can rest in snow
The circle moves in lore.

As seasons bring the life of Earth
In nature's love is bound
A path to clarity from birth
The circle turns around.

My eye that sees from one lone leaf
Now paints a magic land
The mind that sees beyond the reef
Now guides the brush in hand.

My art my point of view reveals
Image from eye of I
The doorway of soul that conceals
The realms of mortal tie.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

So Far From You


The seas that ebb and flow between two hearts
That loved with passion, yet there lies a grudge.
The eyes of jade shine as envy imparts
Irrational thoughts like a subtle nudge.
No road or bridge can cross the growing gap
Built by the green eyed demon of jealous rage.
Bitter, twisted, love lies as useless scrap
As truth is not enough to turn the page.
The lack of trust has left nothing to save,
Our love has gone, lost to envy's desire.
I look at you, my eyes, empty, still crave.
Alas, your demon has slain my heart's fire.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Artwork: Jealousy by Brian Charnley


Shadows of Existence

I dwell in the shadows of existence
Neither living nor dead I be.
The pulse of a heart in resistance
Kept on a brink of sanity.

As I look down into madness
And certain loss of life
The tears that flow with sadness
Cut like a pointless knife.

I yearn to fall into the dark deep
Let go of this dull enigma.
Leave the traces that have made me weep
Lose a label's hopeless stigma.

The razor blade cuts like ice
The veins seep a dark red
This time I did not think twice
I belong with the dead.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Quean of Poetry



If I take the craw road from here to Dundee
I will find the lassie my quean of poetry.
I read the wirds an aw that sing
As the pen haud in her hand ring

Sing to me again my quean of ink
I luve the lass that makes me think
I ken the wirds will make me cry
An aw that sing I'll smile an sigh.

So a wannabe poet put pen ta paper
An writ in mither tongue for caper
For the lassie that is aw that an more
I ken it will be a wee poetic bore.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Written using Scots dialect

My Passion


There is a place I hide in pain
Refuge for tears, a place to weep.
Where words I read to sooth again
In vintage odes my mind I steep.

Oh Shelley poet loved so dear
With you I find a gentle peace
Oft joined by blood and saline tear
'Til once again my rages cease.

The words that show a man of charm
Comfort he brings in my repine
The spirit makes his words so warm
Again my heart belongs to thine.

The fears of darkness are now gone
As words in blood pulse in my breast
And when I die it's with you alone
I will lie and take final rest.

A modern poet dreams in moon shine
When soul's reach to an unholy low
These are thoughts that will remain mine
And when my dear I love you so.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Living a Lie

Because you feel like you are living a lie
You think the world has turned away to die
The pain awash inside your mind sets free
The thoughts of dark hands paying law of three

For the wrong you've done, gods demand a price
The fee of all sin is paid in full, thrice
The soul lays bare to cursed returns as rite
Too late to feel regret and pray for light

Lest truth reveals the hope within your skin
And love replaces the way led by sin.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Dead Ends


The walls of thought are closing in my mind
There is no doorway out that I can find
I'm sealed in confusion like a trapped rat
No light to see as in darkness I'm sat
A dream of freedom brings a false message
I seek the answers, there is no passage
I cry in grief, then in frustration, shout
'Hide! Suicide is the only way out!'

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Artwork by unknown

Dangerous Speeds

Speeding down life's highway, pedal to the floor
Events blur in fusion, no time for more
Days melt into years right before your eyes
So much haste, no time for goodbyes

Slow down! Disaster lies ahead
Apply the brakes or you will wake up dead
Less haste now will not mean lack of bottle
The Reaper's travelling at full throttle

Stop rushing, take time to enjoy some love
'Tis better than being crushed in death's glove.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

A Message to my BiPolar

I accept you are always with me, my 'friend',
It's only Death who can make this all end.
The days you send my soul to living hell
It is me caught in the curse of your spell.

I see the battle rage in flames of hate
As life and Death mark their bids on the slate.
You think to die is to yield to defeat
Come now, 'friend', that is merely your conceit.

They all ask why it is I want to end,
They don't know you, this demon I call 'friend'.
How you rip in me leaving me shattered
The despair of living my soul, battered.

My spirit is strong you will never win
As even in Death I will turn and grin.
The Dark Angel holds me ready to fly
You lose 'friend' now I can reach for the sky.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Head for a Jack


Take my hand as the bar closes I'm drunk
First whiskey now me shared by all that play
Take me to the alley, fumble then bunk.
No concern for risk, you want it this way
After my body feels rejected and sunk
Which one of you took my head away?


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.


Artwork: Surreal-18277191

16 August 2008

Collaborate

Syllabic: col-lab-o-rate

Pronunciation: kuh-lab-uh-reyt

Definition:
1.to work, one with another; cooperate, as on a literary work
2.to cooperate, usually willingly, with an enemy nation, esp. with an enemy occupying one's country:

working together
we make a great team
collaborate ideas
creativity a flowing stream
supporting each other
solid we rarely fall
minds in union
all for one and one for all


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Abbreviate

Syllabic: ab-bre-vi-ate

Pronunciation: uh-bree-vee-eyt

Definition:
1.to shorten (a word or phrase) by omitting letters, substituting shorter forms, etc., so that the shortened form can represent the whole word or phrase.
2.to reduce (anything) in length, duration, etc.; make briefer.
3.to use abbreviations.

Abbreviate to shorten, lmao
Txt to hru? The modern way of communicating
Can a poem be written in this new language
Should or shouldn't that be, is that not discriminating
I need my son to translate the txt messages
Wtf does it all mean? I am learning slow
Am I so old that it all has no meaning
I don't see the flow in this new age lingo



© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Nurture

Syllabic: nur-ture

Pronunciation: nur-cher

Definition:
1.to feed and protect.
2.to support and encourage, as during the period of training or development; foster.
3.to bring up; train
4..rearing, upbringing, training, education, or the like.
5.Development.
6.something that nourishes; nourishment; food.

Is the way we are nature or nurture?
Are we born with our quirks and identity?
Do we learn to be all that we are?
It’s an argument that will rage for infinity

A combination of things makes you and me
Genetics, experience, reaction, success, a mistake
We grow and change with each passing moment
Never perfect, the future is ours to make.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Gratuitous

Syllabic: gra-tu-i-tous

Pronunciation: gruh-too-i-tuhs

Definition:
1.given, done, bestowed, or obtained without charge or payment; free; voluntary.
2.being without apparent reason, cause, or justification: a gratuitous insult.
3.Law. given without receiving any return value.

Free love, a trip to back to hippies, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll
The advent of the birth control pill, giving us sexual liberty
The Beatles, Hendrix, the Rolling Stones
Is that really what gave us our identity?

Gratuitous sex was that really something new?
Passion for pleasure surely we could not be the first
To feel the delights, to reach the dizzy heights,
Of sating need, desire, quenching lust’s thirst.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

10 August 2008

The Archer


The Archer by *Painting-Poet on deviantART

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Sunkissed Princess


Sunkissed Princess by *Painting-Poet on deviantART

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Horse in Inks


Horse by *Painting-Poet on deviantART

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

8 August 2008

A Message to My BiPolar

I accept you are always with me, my 'friend',
It's only Death who can make this all end.
The days you send my soul to living hell
It is me caught in the curse of your spell.

I see the battle rage in flames of hate
As life and Death mark their bids on the slate.
You think to die is to yield to defeat
Come now, 'friend', that is merely your conceit.

They all ask why it is I want to end,
They don't know you, this demon I call 'friend'.
How you rip in me leaving me shattered
The despair of living my soul, battered.

My spirit is strong you will never win
As even in Death I will turn and grin.
The Dark Angel holds me ready to fly
You lose 'friend' now I can reach for the sky.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

5 August 2008

The Flowers of Darkness


As dusk descends oblations bloom
In sacred room.
To gods of night,
For their delight.

The sweetest scents illuminate
The holy state
For us to see
The path to thee.

The flowers guide the Pagan child
With spirit wild
By lunar light
In sacred flight.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Soul In Captivity


In shadows lurk the eyes that prey
They lay in wait for me.
I sense the fear before they slay
The peace that once was free.

The light no longer mine to see
As darkness holds me tight.
They bind my will, I am not me
Such is the captive's plight.

With pen in hand each day I write
In hope to find the way
Release my soul from endless night
To feel the light of day.

The act they come to see in play
My life behind the glass
No care for things I have to say
My life is now a farce.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Sesquipedalian and Panoply

Syllabic: ses·qui·pe·da·li·an

Pronunciation: ses-kwi-pi-dey-lee-uhn

Definition: 1. given to using long words.
  2. (of a word) containing many syllables.
  3. a sesquipedalian word.

Syllabic: pan·o·ply

Pronunciation: pan-uh-plee

Definition: a wide-ranging and impressive array or display


I love long words when I play Scrabble
If I use all my tiles I score double.
Now writing poems I count the sounds
Made by letters in order bound.

Sesquipedalian words are fun to play
If I find more than six in one I may
Scream in a panoply of ecstasy and joy
The long words are still a my fave toy.

Is this cheating the word game today
As I have played two in one rhyming way
Oh well that is the dice and I got lucky
So I guess really its my game so just ducky.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Rainbow Dreams


Crystal orbs lie shattered in dust,
As the cherubs of twilight pry
Angel eyes invade divine lust
In rainbow dreams the spirits scry.

Serene wings reflect metallic light,
Hazy sunsets devour the day
Expressions of dusk shimmer bright
In rainbow dreams the spirits scry.

Days fade to memories of sand
On the shores where ideas cry.
Mystics slumber within night's hand
In rainbow dreams the spirits scry.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Eremitic Silence

Amongst the hordes of golden fields,
I stand in eremitic silence.
A flash of crimson thought explodes,
a single rose brings me home.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Ballad to the Goddess


 She sings to me in silver tones
  She calls the merry tune
  The maidens dance before the crones
  To greet the rising moon.

The goddess grants me magic rite
Divine enchantress bring
The blessings forth in beams of light
And shine upon my ring.

  She sings to me in silver tones
  She calls the merry tune
  The maidens dance before the crones
  To greet the rising moon.

I cast the gifts of magic lore
Embrace your will and love
The Ancient ways from times before
Still form as peace above

  She sings to me in silver tones
  She calls the merry tune
  The maidens dance before the crones
  To greet the rising moon.

The way of crone, the aged and wise
Skyclad within the dune
My life is Hers in loving eyes
My Goddess is the moon

  She sings to me in silver tones
  She calls the merry tune
  The maidens dance before the crones
  To greet the rising moon.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

1 August 2008

On Italian Shores


In clouds of topaz see the native girl
She walks barefoot over the amber sands.
Soft tendrils of auburn hair twist and curl
A single crimson rose silent in her hands.

Each night she walks, along the chilling shore
With fleeting glances across the ocean
At seas rhythm with unforgiving lore
The black waters mesmerise with motion

Stargazed she holds loves tarot runic card
Destiny in journeys to distant place
When she finds the soul of sea faring bard
In dreams she has often seen his face.

A failure of reality to break a heart
When the worlds combine in romantic art.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Trembling Thought

The cerements choke ideas within mind's spark
As stifled thoughts conflict with ethics and truth
A fight for freedom leaves emotions stark
So age and wisdom find the lies in youth.

So leave the creative shackles grip behind
The liberty of dreams in years unfold
Release the psyche, deny thoughts that confined
Why wait for life to pass in truth foretold?

Open the doors to conscious streams you sought
Embrace the vision found in trembling thought.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

The Cat

The cat
Sleek and elegant,
Full of grace,
Yeah right,
Not so at our place.
Loner cats are,
They say, aloof;
Ours are friendly
Always acting the goof.
Our feline babies
Each and everyone
Spoilt Oh Yes
But so full of fun
Smudge came first
Followed by Ash and Patch
Three lovely cats
We made quite a catch
Five years on
Our home is a feline domain
The rule of mog
Long may it reign


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Room to Breathe



There is a place not far from me
That takes me away from life
Where the mundane, stress and worries
Merely disappear.

A place where I am never alone
But can be just be the me I am
A spiritual abode in stone
That I treasure.

The sense of magic embraces
A soul in hell's confusion
I found my truth in peace
I am now one.

Where Ancients stand righteous
From an antiquated time
A wisdom from the Ages past
Defines my modern life.

The runic ways of long ago
Lead to a lustrous light.
I have nothing to prove any more
Its cool to be me.

This spot so astonishing
Has given me all that I need
But most significant of all
Is the room to breathe.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Prisoner


Outside reality inside my mind
The crowds of wilderness come
Invading, degrading all that is
Nothing matters, there is no calm
Fight for survival its an illusion
I have nothing more to give
The place I desire isn't here
I need to open that door
Just one step and I am free
The bonds of life are killing me
No good byes or loving farewells
Just depart mortality's hades
Lost from living can't see death
Dwelling in limbo is my prison
No release
No reprieve
No parole
Just hell


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Oh My Love


Oh my darling, do you not see
Without you I am not able to be
Each morning you awaken my body and mind
And always beside me, you, I loyally find

I watch the steam pass free from your lip
I savour what is to come as I hear your first drip
Dark, strong, smooth and intoxicating
For you my love I don't mind waiting

Those strange noises you make each morning
The start of the day on my mind is dawning
Slowly you grunt into your rhythmic action
Making ready for our sweet chemical reaction
You give me so much each day, my darling one
Without you, my love, my day cannot be begun

You alone the cobwebs of my mind do shake
A day of sweet music we soon will make
You stir me, inspire me, not one drop from you will I waste
As at last you offer me that first oh so sweet taste

Silky heat as first you touch my eager lips
The delight and pleasure send my mind into back flips
Oh baby, baby, yes I love you such a lot
My darling, my beautiful, sweet coffee pot.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Make It Today

I feel the coldness of your touch linger
Sigh, as again you tease with a finger
I hunger for you dark queen, your realm I seek
Freedom in your shadow from chains so bleak
Hail dark angel, blessed queen, make it today
Slice the scythe goddess and take me your way



© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Leave Me to Bleed

You leave me hanging for your touch
The brief moment when blood you sup
As in the pain of love's snug clutch
You fuck me up

In dazed confusion of desire
Agony burns yet still I feed
The masochist will play with fire
Leave me to bleed

The tainted dreams now taste of sin
When love is sweet wine from queen's cup
Then pain will die where love begin
You fuck me up

A lone where none can care or prey
A place in heart where love is freed
In tranquil rage, please go today
Leave me to bleed


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Flashback

Another night another flashback
A scream then pain, fear, darkness, alone
Your fist in my face, hands round my neck
Forgiveness I can give you none

You tore into me, taking my soul from me
I could not cry, just wanted to die
You didn’t have the nerve to give me that
Your love nothing but a destroying lie

Now you and your anger are history at last
I have moved on leaving you with your guilt
I feel joy, happiness, needed and loved
A life without you I have built

Yes, I still flashback, not that you will know
I am strong and though your hands did beat
My body and mind, it is once more mine
And that is something you will never defeat

I don’t hate you, I don’t waste the emotion
You are worthless, pathetic, nothing but scum
My revenge if I desired it, is simple, my sons
Nothing like their father have become

They believe in honour, trust, and respect
They believe in truth, they are gentle young men
Your abuse and your violence is history
My sons are the future, a hateful past long behind them.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Egoism

Syllabic: e·go·is.m

Pronunciation: eg-oh-iz-uhm

Definition: 1. the habit of valuing everything only in reference to one's personal interest; selfishness.
2.egotism or conceit.
3.Ethics. the view that morality ultimately rests on self-interest.

Always looking in a mirror and preening
Your vanity is beyond any compare
Always your job, your hobbies, your everything
Your interest in others is rare

No sacrifice is too great, no price too dear
As long as it feeds your love of self
Your egoism is your church and worship
One day you will realise it is so not good for your health
.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Demure

Syllabic: de·mure

Pronunciation: di-myoor

Definition: 1. characterized by shyness and modesty; reserved.
2.affectedly or coyly decorous, sober, or sedate.


Sweet and sensual, yet so outwardly shy
I can not help but love you I do not ask why
My heart beats as your eyes look at me
From this sweet prison I never wish to be free

Sensual and sexual, feminine and demure
My eternal oxymoron of a love devinely pure
Your love feeds my hunger, drives my desire
Sate me my angel, set my soul on fire
.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Chocolate

Syllabic:  choc·o·late

Pronunciation: chaw-kuh-lit

Definition: 1. a preparation of the seeds of cacao, roasted, husked, and ground, often sweetened and flavoured, as with vanilla.
2.a beverage made by dissolving such a preparation in milk or water, served hot or cold: a cup of hot chocolate.
3..candy made from such a preparation.


That sweet satin taste as you first touch my lips
Eager and hungry, I savour your first embrace
From the end of my toes to my finger tips
My senses yearn only for your silken grace

Easily between my lips of sultry red
You slip without resistance my tongue lingers for a moment
Slowly licking then sucking the fusion to my head
Oh, yes the chocolate fix, pure pleasure my intent.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Beautiful Death


The empty gulf is left by broken dreams
The heart will beat without a cause to care
Despair incites the wrath to flow in streams
In blackest waters hatred makes its lair.

The mind awaits the beautiful demise
That blades of death will bring at setting sun.
The bluest flames of hell make no goodbyes
As eyes once bright the blackened soul will shun.

At last, my psyche is free, outside my head
 A welcome peace discharges from life...  I'm dead.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Afternoon Tea Inspection

An English tradition, now so rare
Afternoon tea in mother's parlour.
The table set as she warms the pot,
His nerves explain his opal pallor.

Tea served in the best Royal Doulton
With crust less sandwich and dainty cakes.
Endless questions about his intent,
No wonder the poor man has the shakes.

Where are you going? What a to do!
I apologise for her prying.
Another boyfriend will soon be gone
Again left alone at home, crying.

Just to get past first base would be nice
The joy of life, the only daughter
Why can't I taste passion and feel lust
Just to feel love once like I oughta!

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

A Lonely Bell


A lonely bell will chime out today
It sings a saddened air
As death, a soul has claimed her way
No tears are shed to care

The silent whispers pry inside
Yet more deceit and hate
The false desires were her bride
That lay in fear to wait

A lonely bell will chime out today
It sings a saddened air
As death, a soul has claimed her way
No tears are shed to care

No thought nor want offered or took
Her heart lay used by love
The promise left in open book
Again no truth thereof

A lonely bell will chime out today
It sings a saddened air
As death, a soul has claimed her way
No tears are shed to care

Abused by those who swear of grace
In words that bear no hope
All meaningless the lies of face
Just pain at end of rope

A lonely bell will chime out today
It sings a saddened air
As death, a soul has claimed her way
No tears are shed to care

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.