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Cylvya Jewel Dyamon

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Las Vegas, NV, US

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The Ring of Moon-Evelant Love

by

Cylvya Jewel Dyamon

Be-Sight thee moon, in all it's glory.
See the ring she wears 'round her Halo's Laurie.
This I giveth unto you my dear,
From all Arc-Angels, you shall soon hear.
With this ring we do wed, for soon the Festival cometh,
In Equinox *Stead.
Now destiny to yee unfolds,
Of the Seer's Nights of Old.
Gifts of Fire, Lust and Gold,
From Powers realm, your Dreams are told.
Pay to it tension, heed its call,
"The Lords of the Ring" befall us all.
the Ebony of black sands, tides its quarry
of fevers burning desire, dense with fury.
But never once cometh the feather of the Dove,
Against a tether, only of love.
The gates of NYE ever Beta, open a path of
Pearls to Theta.
The Beginning of Eternity awaits thee.
To the Dothseer, Velvet Emeralds, Loves Destiny.
Oh Arc-Angel of the heavens, send this Pearls
undying Love to the one who shines above the
Moon-Evelant Rings, of "The Dove."


The Jewel of the Nile

by

Cylvya Jewel Dyamon

Traces of Emerald's are here in my pages,
As I recount the lifetimes within Cylvya'stages.
The tones of Majenta have colored desires,
While Witches and Wizards have danced 'round red fires.
Passions of Oz seem a wonderous lot,
While wishes and whirlwinds collapse with each thought.
Wild horses of different colors or tones,
Stampede into ribbons of Silver and Gold.
Glenda, the Witch of the North and the Good,
Has conjured up Springtime where poppies once stood.
Our dreams of the Emeralds, the Dyamons, the Gold,
Are swirling like cyclones of Krystaline Stone.
Winter is Raven, the Winds smell of Jasper,
Then disappear in silence like Ghosts and like Kasper.

Dothseer and Majenta return to this Isle,
Reclaiming the Jewels once removed from the Nile.
Now Emerald eyes have again been enlightened,
With Traces of Blu and new roads paved with Dyamons.
A coven of Witches and Wizards, it's said,
T'wil cast a great spell over fires of Red.
The old ways are broken and bells will be ringin',
If you listen real close, you will hear Angels Singin'.
Maggie and Emerald and Cylvya I'm told,
Once had Dothseer and Richard and Randy to hold.
And there's "NO PLACE LIKE HOME", says the Wizard of Oz,
And he's a Wiz of a Wiz, if ever there WAS.
T'was the Jewel of the Nile, as the story IS told,
With a whisper of Dyamons, and Emeralds, so Bold.

That is the story or so it is written, of
"The Jewel of the Nile", may she never be smitten.

Wanna Bees

by

Cylvya Jewel Dyamon

No one can follow
No one can pace
No one can stop
The love that we chase

All of them wanting
To be allowed
To ride on our carpet
No! Not on our cloud

Its just the beginning
There can be no end
As long as we're together
They're not lovers nor friends

For all of their trouble
To break us apart
What's become of their friendship?
Did they just depart?

To bad that they couldn't see
What they were doing.
For in trying to get loved
They weren't worth pursuing.

So finally their efforts
Came back to haunt them
And they have got nothing
But what they used to taunt them.

No one can take away
The feelings you give
No one could know how hard
It has been to live.

With thoughts of the Wanna Bees
Just what did it all mean?
What did I learn
From the pain that I've seen?

I learned of a people
That latch on to others
Like leaches they bleed you
And alienate your brothers

They squeeze and they spounge
Until you've been bled dry.
Their only accomplishment
I to sit and watch you cry.

Whatever their reasons...
Which ever comes first...
No matter who they hurt
It quenches their thirst.
For
THEY ARE
"THE WANNA BEES"

Poetry Today

by

Cylvya Jewel Dyamon

(My honest review of the Magazine's Poem/Poet pics of the year)

As I sit here reading
I fail to see
The perils in Poetry,
Their necessity.

To render such
Utterances in revelry.
By writing
Each verse in monotony.

How can a poet
Romance a Radio host?
And take a 1st Place?
When tíwas only, so so?

The Runners Up?
For better or worse.
Make no sense to me.
They sound so rehearsed.

"Cache and Carry";
That gave me some chuckles.
But "February", got under
"My Skin", at the knuckles.

"Alzheimerís" was something
It got to my heart.
But there was no poetry,
In "Yellowstone Park"!

Wow!......What an
Inner-twangling strain;
When nothing worth writing,
Has entered their brain.

The Ides of March,
Mystical Rhymes,
ĎE TU Bruteí?
Should inspire their minds.

Alas, to Edit a Poem_
Thatís quite a rough task.
To critique someone elseís,
Inner un-mask.

This magazineís editor
Is grabbing at straws.
To find Winning Poetry
Without any flaws.

Whoeverís in charge;
Of choosing whoís best,
Heís not found a Poet,
That out-shines the rest.

This Editorís been scraping_
The bottom of the boats.
Heís handing out Medals,
When No-one got Votes.

Heís looking for Poets like,
Longfellow or Poe;
If one came along_.
Do you think he would know?

James Whitcomb Riley,
My relative by thirds;
Wrote poetic philosophy,
Through insightful words.

There must be One Poet,
Recently born.
Who writes with such brilliance,
We need no longer morn.

Weíve fallen to such
A confessional trend,
Itís time,
For the 21st Century to mend.

A True Poet, today,
Must live for the Ink.
Enlightening and relative__
Does cause one to think?

To celebrate our lives,
Seems harder than ever.
Our Poems are about.._
Our own stormy weather.

Instead of enlightening
Our offspring together;
We bitch about why_
We arenít treated much better.

Maybe Iím too quick
To voice all this clamor
So Iíll critique, only Me,
Cuz I ainít got No Good Grammer.

Iíve come to the end
Of my crude review.
Iíve written only
My own point-of-view.

If you understood it,
I guess I got through.
And maybe youíll write,
From a new point-of-you.

This is the 1st day
of
The best of your writes.
Pen words from the outside,
Within darkened light!
You may Begin..............

The Gift

by

Cylvya Jewel Dyamon

To a soul,
that yurns,
for the gift he's been given.

To a man,
that hears what his mind reads
and knows not,
the truth of its' content.

To an entity,
of the lessor of a multiple body,
of energies long past,
as to believe in an undying life.

For seasons of energy,
in a cosmic suggestion
of lengthy matter of facts.

Need only
not that of which you are certain,
but bend,
to its' great power of purpose.

Mine Eyes - They Scoff

by

Cylvya Jewel Dyamon

They Scoff - let us have no more dreams, they say,
"Tis truth, not dreams, we have need of today."
Stark truth that sees things as they really are.
Not childish wishing on some distant star.
Visionary fantasy of peace. . . .gives us truth,
And let this dreaming cease.
But dreamers have a way of dreaming on,
And Beauty's still a part of every dawn.
And though the realists say,
Truth is Dark and must, like trees,
Be bare and stark."
The dreamer visions leaves on barron boughs,
Ah....but the world needs Dreamers lke these....
Now. . . Who Sees Beyond!

New Friends

by

Cylvya Jewel Dyamon

In my length of life,

I have found, through my travels,

those who will give and those who will take.

But as of late,

I have come across a couple,

who have allowed me to unravel.

without need to hesitate.

Within my findings, I must state,

Itís so much better to surround myself

with this kindness,

helping to cure some of the blindness,

caused by confusion it tends to create,

an unwanted arrival of hate,

oíre these roads paved with gravel.

In my search for New Friends,

I tend to under-rate,

my yearning for freedoms of life.

To reveal part of the new roads

less traveled and paved with

over-stated reprisals.

Once New Friends I discover,

I tend so to hover,

soaking up new found confessions.

Lavishing the now,

within the freshness uncovered,

a road with a bend for the mending

and unfolds a clear path to start over.

Rare acquaintances last longer

than all words I could ponder.

And true friendship does gather no moss.

While the worst has come forward

and old acquaintances wander,

True friends do remain at NO COST.

Father Save Me

by

Cylvya Jewel Dyamon

Father, I know not why I've done the aweful things I've done.I've given you reason after reason not to accept me as your son.
I've lied, cheated, stolen, cursed your name, and even killed. Seems this pain and void inside me will never be healed or filled!
Almost everyone in my life has given up or turned their back on me. I've had many thoughts of giving up myself, making the demon inside me flee.
Is the Devil not finished with me yet? Is there something about me left for him to demean, or make me regret?
I feel that I have failed, accomplishing nothing in my life. I've managed to lose my precious children and push away my gorgeous wife!
Oh father, I come to you. I apologize for not knowing just exactly how. Please stop me from destruction of myself and ones I love! Father, my only hope, please show me now!
Breathe your life into this cold, dead carcass that I've managed to destroy.
I give myself to you from now on, no longer am I the Devil's play toy!
Thank you for listening, Father. I'll praise you as I lay down for the day. From this point on, I'll work hard for you. Please just save me! In God and Jesus name, I pray!
I love you Father! Please love me. Love Sam