writers, your best piece of work!

post your best piece of written work here to share, either for the expression, the use of langauge, or the meaning.
mine: Stone Baits. grammitcally deficient, yes, doesn't make sense to outsiders, yes, sounds like bs, yes, yet I can't express my feelings when I wrote this and the extravagence of the language...for those non-thesarusers. I never completed this poem, probably because it took way too long and my feelings simply died, or just that I have emptied myself of novel and weird use of language/expression. anyway it's supposed to tell a story, a sad one, and this poem ended jsut as the climax is about to begin...
Stone Baits
Spring has arrived, in my garden of young paradise,
A fresh class peaks up, aroused beneath the thawing ice.
Budding to resurrect; for eight times they’ve died,
Fearing no thirteen winters, only from age they shall demise.
First flush of spring, greenness, lushness, and sunlight,
Vitality among soil, warmth, grass, air and delight.
Summoning tinkles of birds, enlivening aroma of nature,
Awake! My dear plants! Our union shall soon alight.
Harmony of verdure; sprouting vigorously under the Bright,
Cherry, Plum, berry shrubs, crawling greenly is Grape Vine.
Destined to be mighty Maple, waiting to prosper in time,
Delicate comely Violet, Orchid, Tulip, with beauty of youth momentarily chime.
Some germinate in ashen sandstones; grey cobbles clearly define,
Spike-balled, lean yuccas; squat, bristly agaves flower-blind.
Some thrive on unripe lawns; emerald Sallow and Woodbine,
Some dwell on lucid ponds; Lily, Lotus water refined.
Amongst myriad greens, Begonia, Gummosis and Juvenile Pine,
Stands Red Rose the Gorgeous, fast-growing, seeming fine.
By time of flourishing, all thousand blossoms’ prime,
Its fragrance and appeal, has dwelled up this vert kingdom of mine.
Ruby among all greens, core heart of this verdant sight,
Sole peal among all voices, its thorns grabbing on me tight.
“Oh master! May I scold away, those villainous bugs who bite?
Or may I water Poppy? I’m at your service, you decide.”
Unlike sour Citron or Lemon, Rose knows about polite,
Discreet to be faultless – to me he can reply.
Incessantly ardent, strenuous in every slight,
Branching out an integral, magnificent girder, centered site.
- -
Veiled in murky faint dusk, of one calm, breezy summer night,
The bright moon rounds white, in the dome, inked, sparkled sky.
Amid this beloved luxuriance, on the shimmering lime path I tranquilly lie,
Pitch-greened cicadas echoing as rain; a cool whiff dimly gliding by.
Appreciating Rose in obscurity, who waft streams, artwork than life,
Slim, knob crooked coal ivory; from spider root I admire his height.
Garneted in misty failing light, every leaf ideal and precise,
Skeletally subtle yet darkly lethal; the core, yet lonesome quite.
- -
Wandering free heavens drowsily, when swiftly rinsed, by a gentle tide,
A faultless, fluid melody, mellow tune wave; dispersing in twilight.
Winding me, as I struggle lithe notes, in breeze, those deceased tones still drift abide,
Ringing clear loops; blindly I seek, lambently around they hide.
Before those lingering, agile traces, can echo away in silence and die,
Trembling from that remote, I feel roaring billows portentously reply.
Listening up, nearer raging bellows surge, the more abysmal they seem to imply,
A howling storm of fumed passion; I can taste the acrimonious, rushing brine.
Severest instance of immense striking; terrific natural might combined;
Engulfed in mountain rollers, boisterous blizzards of sliver and slice.
Within infinite flurry resonances, there’s bitterness, and mild despite,
Resisting this tremendous air art of nature; it’s glumness, I realize.
Unknown mourn sweeping along wintry wrath, resolute arogance flaring years high;
Radical nature stain in rage tempest, fickle tinct blaze alone bizzardly kite.
Exhaling thunderous tornas, even those ground withered seem stirred up to fly,
Corresponding inmost and out; nearly frenzied, out loud I frantically cry.
No storm never fails, even if utter discontent they comprise,
As grievance, ire drains, into placid woe all mollifies.
Vast ocean uproars, disband into a single, unadulterated streamline,
Potent atmosphere turbulences, hush to let the essence solitarily ride.
When opaque fog diffuses, unclouded, brilliant golden sun shines;
After washing squall releases, sheer genuine splendor is left behind.
Astonished by sudden retreat, fleetly of gale’s modify;
Guiding straight to that distance, flows the sole strain of my life.
Athwart airy tuberose incense, mauve meadow of frail thymes,
Trailing that sinuous creek; nimble summon of euphony clime.
Wheeling unbodied ahead, a lost sonance, roving for rely;
Far finale of long quartz lane - there’s the flawed, gushing sentiment dike.
- -
Secluded from vivacious realm, desolated by calmed boundary side,
Tranquilly looming in gloom; insipid, to stillness excite.
Down deep, a serene mountain puddle, mirrorly clearing all vice;
All darkling sureal grey in haze - no unwilled penetrator shall ever suffice.
Lone island where it stands, black gold and earth form no line;
Unlit dimension backgrounds, lofty slim pillars at end of space-time.
Lull gains it energy and stature, slight swings seem movingly alive,
A copse yet single; hollows filled with bitter overflowing wine.
Forlonly wading ebon water, approaching three static spouts I dare not stride;
Jetting up eclipsed beryl columns, spurting clinging algae, moss blades of rice.
Half moonly amidst silent shade; in perfect arcs, side two incline-
Oh Trio-Bamboo our craved encounter, scenes no coincidental collide.
- (to be continued...hopefully sometime during this decade..) -
mine: Stone Baits. grammitcally deficient, yes, doesn't make sense to outsiders, yes, sounds like bs, yes, yet I can't express my feelings when I wrote this and the extravagence of the language...for those non-thesarusers. I never completed this poem, probably because it took way too long and my feelings simply died, or just that I have emptied myself of novel and weird use of language/expression. anyway it's supposed to tell a story, a sad one, and this poem ended jsut as the climax is about to begin...
Stone Baits
Spring has arrived, in my garden of young paradise,
A fresh class peaks up, aroused beneath the thawing ice.
Budding to resurrect; for eight times they’ve died,
Fearing no thirteen winters, only from age they shall demise.
First flush of spring, greenness, lushness, and sunlight,
Vitality among soil, warmth, grass, air and delight.
Summoning tinkles of birds, enlivening aroma of nature,
Awake! My dear plants! Our union shall soon alight.
Harmony of verdure; sprouting vigorously under the Bright,
Cherry, Plum, berry shrubs, crawling greenly is Grape Vine.
Destined to be mighty Maple, waiting to prosper in time,
Delicate comely Violet, Orchid, Tulip, with beauty of youth momentarily chime.
Some germinate in ashen sandstones; grey cobbles clearly define,
Spike-balled, lean yuccas; squat, bristly agaves flower-blind.
Some thrive on unripe lawns; emerald Sallow and Woodbine,
Some dwell on lucid ponds; Lily, Lotus water refined.
Amongst myriad greens, Begonia, Gummosis and Juvenile Pine,
Stands Red Rose the Gorgeous, fast-growing, seeming fine.
By time of flourishing, all thousand blossoms’ prime,
Its fragrance and appeal, has dwelled up this vert kingdom of mine.
Ruby among all greens, core heart of this verdant sight,
Sole peal among all voices, its thorns grabbing on me tight.
“Oh master! May I scold away, those villainous bugs who bite?
Or may I water Poppy? I’m at your service, you decide.”
Unlike sour Citron or Lemon, Rose knows about polite,
Discreet to be faultless – to me he can reply.
Incessantly ardent, strenuous in every slight,
Branching out an integral, magnificent girder, centered site.
- -
Veiled in murky faint dusk, of one calm, breezy summer night,
The bright moon rounds white, in the dome, inked, sparkled sky.
Amid this beloved luxuriance, on the shimmering lime path I tranquilly lie,
Pitch-greened cicadas echoing as rain; a cool whiff dimly gliding by.
Appreciating Rose in obscurity, who waft streams, artwork than life,
Slim, knob crooked coal ivory; from spider root I admire his height.
Garneted in misty failing light, every leaf ideal and precise,
Skeletally subtle yet darkly lethal; the core, yet lonesome quite.
- -
Wandering free heavens drowsily, when swiftly rinsed, by a gentle tide,
A faultless, fluid melody, mellow tune wave; dispersing in twilight.
Winding me, as I struggle lithe notes, in breeze, those deceased tones still drift abide,
Ringing clear loops; blindly I seek, lambently around they hide.
Before those lingering, agile traces, can echo away in silence and die,
Trembling from that remote, I feel roaring billows portentously reply.
Listening up, nearer raging bellows surge, the more abysmal they seem to imply,
A howling storm of fumed passion; I can taste the acrimonious, rushing brine.
Severest instance of immense striking; terrific natural might combined;
Engulfed in mountain rollers, boisterous blizzards of sliver and slice.
Within infinite flurry resonances, there’s bitterness, and mild despite,
Resisting this tremendous air art of nature; it’s glumness, I realize.
Unknown mourn sweeping along wintry wrath, resolute arogance flaring years high;
Radical nature stain in rage tempest, fickle tinct blaze alone bizzardly kite.
Exhaling thunderous tornas, even those ground withered seem stirred up to fly,
Corresponding inmost and out; nearly frenzied, out loud I frantically cry.
No storm never fails, even if utter discontent they comprise,
As grievance, ire drains, into placid woe all mollifies.
Vast ocean uproars, disband into a single, unadulterated streamline,
Potent atmosphere turbulences, hush to let the essence solitarily ride.
When opaque fog diffuses, unclouded, brilliant golden sun shines;
After washing squall releases, sheer genuine splendor is left behind.
Astonished by sudden retreat, fleetly of gale’s modify;
Guiding straight to that distance, flows the sole strain of my life.
Athwart airy tuberose incense, mauve meadow of frail thymes,
Trailing that sinuous creek; nimble summon of euphony clime.
Wheeling unbodied ahead, a lost sonance, roving for rely;
Far finale of long quartz lane - there’s the flawed, gushing sentiment dike.
- -
Secluded from vivacious realm, desolated by calmed boundary side,
Tranquilly looming in gloom; insipid, to stillness excite.
Down deep, a serene mountain puddle, mirrorly clearing all vice;
All darkling sureal grey in haze - no unwilled penetrator shall ever suffice.
Lone island where it stands, black gold and earth form no line;
Unlit dimension backgrounds, lofty slim pillars at end of space-time.
Lull gains it energy and stature, slight swings seem movingly alive,
A copse yet single; hollows filled with bitter overflowing wine.
Forlonly wading ebon water, approaching three static spouts I dare not stride;
Jetting up eclipsed beryl columns, spurting clinging algae, moss blades of rice.
Half moonly amidst silent shade; in perfect arcs, side two incline-
Oh Trio-Bamboo our craved encounter, scenes no coincidental collide.
- (to be continued...hopefully sometime during this decade..) -