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The selected poems of Pasteltears
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In Memory of Poetry
The sun slipped on the moon-
round white gown hiding behind darken clouds,
the night casts her mysterious breath...
curling me into a daydream...
...provoking empty memories...fill me
your ten fingers unravel...
the migraine lace wrapped tightly around my head.
Take me there again!...your written words!
Erect an enchanting forest...there~
I run and lose myself in your wilderness...
Dawn arise thy shimmer of surprise
off my soar eyes soaking in darkness for so long.
prolong this stroll forever...my souls a white paper
To collect your ink dipped flower...your ever shower,
falling from your eye, I collect and hide
behind the last letter of your poem
Don't want to enter the blank beyond the ink,
Sadly I must leave....
My friend...why must your poem have to end?
__________________________________________________
Åmen
The clock tucks another hour under her covers
My eyes try to pull over my lids like sheets
And finally sleep this long day away...
But my searching mind walks on...
Thoughts roam along roads of stubbled tar
The nights tongue remains silent
while mental vocals sing to shooting stars
Nothing is stirring...not even a mouse
across the floors my bare feet tour with tiptoes
walking in sync with the shadows stealth
Looking for that that divine flame
Dancing on a wicked-wax its melts
Ah...melt away my sorrow...my swollen sorrows
Scraping-soars with a piece of my broken heart
praying upon Job's hill of dung...
hoping for his holiness...O-
-across the grove my neighbor weep with loneliness
O, I wish i could merge your stream of tears
to my dripples...becoming rivers
cleansing the dirt of your fears.
...I ripple away in the consuming tides
while your dry eyes..watch me smile.. soaking slowly
Don't reach out to save me...I'm happy
Giving my life for my brother...
...my head bows below the waters covers
sleeping this long day away
finally.......amen. __________________________________________________
Ring Around The Poesy
The rippling rivers hollowing ravines
like God writing cursive with His unique blue ink.
Surely he has more eyes than the Mississippi
seeing like sun in the darkest depths.
My wit too short to write of that majesty-
high as the heavens beyond feeble intellects.
So I'll dissect the lifestyles of the insect
crawling up me like a picnic table.
Ants trying to carry away my pen
I fling them like Kenivel across the meadows length.
Silly me, silly me writeing of what?
I wanted to hang and dry your eyes
on the clothes line, fresh from the washer of tears.
No...no tumble dry...
Hang on my pen lines while I decline
away to another day while my critique's chew this one away.
Wait...to late!...the ants are carrying my pad away..
maybe next time....
__________________________________________________
Icons of Spring
The wind weaves through the forest
A thousand leafy fingers
Fanning the flowing breeze...
Inhaling chest-fulls of spring,
Pure airs arouse a sleeping smile
While morning doves sing with no shame...
The clouds rest like a soft angelic breath
Against the lifting inspirations
Of the shalom skies...
Butterflies drift, drunk on life
Pasteling meadows with traces
Of their twinkling flight...
Frosty chills of winter cold
No longer drag upon are fallen frowns
Dancing though the fields with abandon...
Warm rays surround his chosen ones
Soothing skin with a gentle touch,
Shrouds of fear flee from our sight...
For Your care is hugging us on every side,
The one who clothed nature in its beauty
Holds us as the apple of his eye...
© Josh (Pasteltears) Oliveira
All Rights Reserved to all poems above
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Melodious Mistress of a Wandering Love (P1)
Date: Thursday 17 June 1999, at 10:50 p.m.
Special someone...does my stride ever cross the meadows of your mind?
when the night draws nigh...shine my candelabrum bright!
setting the mood of a wedding dance...ah! I wander away
captivated by your essence...molded in my memory of clay.
Among every woman you dwell like an ancient palace among huts
Veil her countenance that sweetly faints...nauseous is the fate of her beauty.
Your absence carves me into a gravestone...as I rest alone in my chambers
embracing your velvet robe...perfumed with scents of the softest skin
sweet smells fill my mind with magical images of a mistress benign.
Her eyes sparkle the blue waters of Malibu...'tis my solemn wish
to block my feet in concrete...and drown of love as I sink
to their bottom...a thousand leagues deep...
yes my sweet...I'd be the cherished coral of your heart.
By the verdant pastures, our vines will be grafted in touches divine
giving ourselves to each~other so much, that separate flesh become one.
Sipping you softly...my soothing red wine...your love dazes me
as I lay gazing at stars who seem to stare at me jealously.
My bride, my eyes no longer surrender my soul in your arms
where have you gone?...this dirge echoes throughout my emptiness
My sadden features are tinted below the moons gentle light
I cry alone while the woods whisper silent tones of abandonment....
Peel away this haunting clock that bares no numbers,
its eternal tic, sticks to the numbered beats of my heart.
Potent sorrow swims down the streams of my tears
They pastel my trembling smile.....slowly I unwind
you who behold me....watch slowly...
...I'm dyeing of love....
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Melodious Mistress of a Wandering Love
(Part 2: the lasting union)
Weeps dry crisp, below the summer's shade,
board fingers play with blades of grass
dreaming t''was the hair of a princess
The evening dissolves into the wandering
the sound of a graceful stride glides shyly across my ears.
Ah!...my eyes backtrack the footprints of it's vibration
it's origin resides behind lattices enclosing a fruitful garden.
Grape vines lace in upward wind, my vision persists to find
(He grows stiff) My!...a lovely silhouette gazing from afar.
Her lashes are feathering the cedar lattices...Ah!
my blinkless eyelids stiffen like stone. Hungry passions moan-
my heart sinks like a star in the galaxy of my soul
perspiration soaks a silent night in precious oils
No one is around. O! whooshing sheet of silhouette,
wrap around me and tuck me in your dreams!
(Shall I chase her?.....will she come to me?)
Halfway, our lit candles melt ourselves away
our wax coats the plentiful fruits of the grove
like romantic frosting sweetly bestowed......
....from an everlasting flame....
a quenchless fire.... that burns with no pain.
© Josh Jason Oliveira
all rights reserved 6/11/99
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Bio: a Grain of Sand in the Hands of Poetry
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Peace fellow poets, my name is Joshua Oliveira, my pen name is Pastel(~¿ô)Tears. Tears, whether of joy or of sadness are the result of tremendous emotion...tears are capsules embodying the depths of the soul. Pastel is an art medium and through poetry I want to paint beautiful poetic pictures with the deep tears of my soul on the canvas of the page. I write all my poetry on a drawing pad as a symbol of this all.
I'm 21 years old, of Portuguese descent but born in America and live in a city in New England. I grew up playing sports, though brutal, boxing was my favorite. From there I got caught up in many drugs and committing crimes but one of my partners in crime converted to God and our bond was already so tight that I went with him, and now I will never leave even under pointblank.
I started writing poetry last summer and now it is a part of me forever. I love drawing and it along with poetry I use them to escape to a wonderful place and I wish to take others there with me. To compose a beautiful heavenly meadow where they can relax their troubled souls.
As for my future...I want the seed of the present to bloom in the dirt's of this maxim
"What does it profit a man to gain the whole and to suffer the lose of his own soul"
There is so much to say, so little space but the rest of my soul is shaded in my poetry. Peace and love to all....
Yours, in poetic libation,
Pasteltears
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