A lone moth flits around my front porch light
as wind blows through my window, luring me
to step outside into black velvet’s night.
I search the sky, but no moon can I see.
It seems it’s disappeared, just like my love.
The moaning wind plays havoc with my hair
as that old bulb sways crazily above.
In solitude, I simply stand and stare
at the fool insect! How can it not know
the falseness of the light that it’s drawn to?
fluorescent doom replaces moon’s sweet glow.
I know this well because in losing you
I lost love’s gleam; I lost my everything,
and still that silly moth is fluttering. . .
For the Chopped II - Poetry Contest of Craig Cornish
On every tenth of June
The sea waves splash upon the moors for years
and shadows draw along the walls festoons
unspoken verse, conceived on silent piers,
the advent of our loneliness attunes.
That day of June remained our only fair
and minds' ascension to the astral reign,
blooms' multitude and fragrances’ affair
a purple thistle on the field and rain.
Remember me, a windy song and laugh,
our holding hands and young, the Summer’s call,
we celebrated then, upon the wharf
and acanthine of solitude's dance hall.
On every tenth of June my eyes embrace,
above the summer moors, your lines of face.
© G. Venetopoulos, 06-14-2013, All rights reserved
Like violets were her eyes when first I spied
the lady with a sweet child’s face who peeked
at me from bushes that she stood beside,
alluring Lilah, beaming, apple-cheeked!
And so it was that more and more I found
myself among the lilacs in that place
where first we’d met, that I might hear the sound
of Lilah’s laugh and glimpse her angel’s face.
On fragrant garden paths we knew the thrill
of blossoming affection. Poetry
was time we spent! But when my love fell ill,
the autumn of our bliss was not to be. . .
I visit Lilah now where she’s at rest
nearby the lilac blooms she liked the best.
For the "One of Your Best" contest of gautami phookan
The day I left Madrid, I waved goodbye
to someone dear to me. I still can see
his dark brown eyes that could not tell a lie,
those same eyes I’d beheld so tenderly
each day when he would show up at my door.
Where is my friend Eduardo, whom I left
behind so long ago and never more
would see again? I know he was bereft
from letters that he sent, and I replied
that we would meet again. I could not know
how wrong I was or if he ever cried
for me. How easily I let him go!
How innocent and beautiful was he!
Unbearable the beauty of my memory.
For the Soulful Words Poetry Contest of Kim Morrison
If e're we could move that mountain from between thee and me,
where would be lament or reason to grieve?
How remove the hollow from the tree, or shore from the sea?
What left would there be?
What if ere the beam lost it's moon.
Or lovely Autumn raiment lost it's tree? What then would it be?
Can one sow the seed without the land?
Would this be what Powers planned?
The grief, the longing, oh, the heartfelt gaze,
The strife the loneliness, but a soulful phase.
A mountain surmountable, a hollow fulfilled,
A sea able to be, a beam again spilled.
A stage again for raiment,... a fertile valley for seed.
Our love could not be boundless without the bonds of these.
Do you know what it feels like
The moment when love strikes
Did you feel the beat of my heart
Did you love me from the start
The days of walks in the park
The slow dances in the dark
The passionate kisses you gave
Faithfully to you, I was a slave
I looked at you and saw paradise
I was in your trance, hypnotized
When all your breath was lost
Then did our love start to frost
I gave to you all my love, so freely
When you remember me, think kindly
I stand here by the lakeshore, and I smell
fresh honeysuckle as I kiss the rain.
A memory that I cannot curtail
wafts bitter sweetly to me, and again
it’s May. . . the night you came to me by moonlight.
The air was permeated by perfume
from blossoms colored innocently white.
But now it’s summer; yellow is each bloom.
When plump upon the vines, sweet berries, red,
will be swooped up by birds and carried away.
I stoop to touch a stem. How soon has fled
my flowered youth, and now this day chilled grey,
I bow in downpour like the vines bent low
while raindrops turn to tears and - glistening - flow.
For the Contest of Gail Doyle
Now that your spirit hovers in chilling night air
Can you find your way to offer me some insight
So many times I pledged my love to show I care
But your lack of response trepidation would ignite
If I could hold you once more, would you tell me now
Would you utter the words I longed so much to hear
Instead of leaving me hanging from love’s frail bough
You’ve passed from earth, but in my dreams you reappear
I see your lips moving and long to comprehend
Words that silently escape into the vast void
I reach for them and your death I try to transcend
Expressions in life that you never employed
Our hearts had been broken countless times before
Your actions showed love, but the words I needed more
I shall nay know all the wonders - you hold
For all too soon the winds of winter blow
Scarlet petals withering in the snow
How cruel the breath that kills the velvet rose
Tears - that canst’ bear the thought of letting go
Forever frozen in this empty soul
A broken heart forever turned to stone
A broken stem left now to stand alone
Alas! I find that life is bitter-sweet
As I stand holding only memories
Of a rose blooming in the summer breeze
Here beneath this old weeping willow tree
Once I held the sweetest rose - ever born
Now – in my grief – I hold the bitter thorn.
Author: Elaine George
A Demon Confesses
I shun the light and do so cast the stone,
rot the meat , ravenously eat the bone
Cut my way deep in every man that falls,
eat my thrills as my victim mercy calls!
Shadows, adorning my cloaks worn with pride,
once entered I rot the mind as I ride
Pain and agony my pets serve so well,
my purpose, sending 'em all right to Hell!
Long claws my daggers I do finely shine,
accept my gifts, your soul then is all mine
Dark laughter is my sweet joy letting loose,
long is you wail, your head is in my noose!
I too, serve my dark master very well
loyal demon, freed from the bowels of Hell!
no date- Edited today, shortened to a sonnet
written so very long ago!
A taste of dark,
demons a reality so very stark,
I write safely within this brilliant light
spewing truth out to win another great fight..-08/24/2014
I seek for warmth by embers getting cold
and though I coax, they will not burst to flame
I sit and mourn the heart of love you sold
that bode in tigress broken now and tame
my body shivers by the dying fire
I wrap around me words of long ago
that scorched my heart with burning tongues of fire
but cold sensations now my heart does know
before I close my eyes and drift to death
I hold an ember close to bosom bare
a searing pain induces gasp of breath
and yet the burn is welcome wound I wear
You left me cold, alone in night so dark
Love's fire died and left me not a spark
Ice crystals form on a once dusty road
Taillights shining brightly amongst the smoke
The old tall oak bruised but still standing strong
A pickled blackened heart no longer broke
If I were gone tomorrow would she care
Remembering that I was always there
Standing by her side through thick and thin
My everlasting love would never disappear
That distant night she wouldn't believe
My heart was pounding loudly for her
Stabbing those stilettos deep into my heart
Walking out, nevermore would my spirit stir
No amount of liquor could mask the pain
Finally, a dead heart will beat again
**Inspired by Nathan D's Junkie Heaven poem and a few late night texts from a friend drinking at a bar**
SCROLL OF LIFE
Although the light long ago faded from my youth
Clarity of my memories tell one; go home,
If only to find the innocence and the truth
From whence I travelled this world, like a gypsy roam.
When the scroll misconstrued paths collide in the night
Unprepared for the dawning the golden sunrise,
Horizon awakened one of emerald bright
Freeways of poetry and words woven without guise.
The misunderstanding of the unrolling scroll
Gave one measure to digest the loss; the delay,
In sands of time ribald an everlasting toll
The scroll we have a new understanding this day.
The gypsy has finally found himself a home
Through emerald eyes seeing his sunrise; not alone.
© Harry J Horsman & Mandy M Tams 2014
Upon the pier of restless shore
she scans across the endless swell,
to end pain’s woe just like before...
her necklace breaks, in chilled farewell.
On edge of evening,clockwork races
with hope to drown in circling waves.
No more a chance to hold stars’ graces,
a wish tangled in child’s tomb, engraved.
Big dipper heeds her whimper, faint
as dazzling light soaks in deep sea.
Her infant harks ,” Mom, be restraint;
I'm here with you, through love’s glory.”
By questioning the bleak of days
her truth alights, as heart obeys.
Surviving after Suicide Attempts Contest
Sponsor: Anne Currin
by nette onclaud
You tug and bend at the chains weighing down,
struggling to even make one small dent.
You try to burn the chains that have you bound,
but to no avail... Not one link is bent.
Cruelty and sadism are expressed here,
in the holder of the chains who you'd trust;
and those close-by strive to halt painful tears,
but the chains make it all a complete bust.
The chains hold strong from the mind to the source,
causing loneliness to fill the bruised heart.
Nothing right now withers those chains of course,
but nothing is free from breaking apart.
If all else fails and no progress is made,
just give those tough chains time to rust and fade.
"Last Sigh of Goodbye"
charming candlelight lost radiant glaze
emotions vanished into twilight dust
broken pieces of heart swallowed in maze
as passionate masquerade died in lust.
fleeting embers of deceit bid adieu'
one last sigh of goodbye stole life's faint breath
a love letter spoke words of love untrue
in painful fond farewell eyes closed in death.
beyond dark grave lies loneliness and tears
'tis better to have loved and lost in life
yet ultimate betrayal spirit sears
impaling soul with wounds deep thrust of knife.
painted finale' carved in canvas cries
caressing love in bouquets of goodbyes.
*For Harry Horsman's Goodbye Contest.
*Nov. 15, 2012.
She was a Capulet and he a Montague
Yet the moment their eyes locked, such great passion grew
Scaled her balcony, professions of love to croon
Juliet warned, “Swear not by the inconstant moon”
Forced to elope because of a family feud
Hidden love’s revelation they had to elude
When Romeo’s friend Mercutio, Tybalt slew
Romeo killed Tybalt and from their town withdrew
Her father sought to wed Juliet to a Count
The friar gave her a potion, a small amount
Upon finding Juliet seemingly lifeless
Parents placed her in a tomb in funeral dress
The plan went awry and both lovers met their fate
Tragedy born when love did not overcome hate
June 9, 2011
Written for Brian's "Up to Thee Max 14 Lines" contest
Go now, turn the photo albums pages.
You often smile at happy memories.
Let the images rekindle the stages,
Never lost, love..within my heart's reverie.
Would that we could return to bygone days.
I would do anything to turn that page.
Love know, my thoughts of us set nights ablaze.
Past passion, left my broken heart engaged.
The years are long, and still, the pages turn.
Relive those brighter memories and come.
Could the ever after be, oh I yearn ..
We each can see the love in our album.
Only you, it is yours, my broken heart,
If you wish a Valentine take the dart.
*Key to message: Read the bolded first words
of each line from the bottom up.
If only We Could Relive The Past Love, I Would Never Let You Go
Because of eyes as warm as honey, I
was melting, but the love I first believed
was shown me in his gaze was but a lie.
He uttered not a word; I was deceived!
He leaned in for that first romantic kiss.
I melted more; my heart did somersaults.
How easily that man could bring me bliss.
But I would learn his luscious lips were false!
His gorgeous body, hard, pressed into me.
I felt his fingers softly touch my skin.
I totally dissolved! How cleverly
he’d worked unspoken lies on me again!
That young man with his beautiful brown eyes
at last destroyed me with his beautiful lies.
English Sonnet written 12/14/12 (late at night as most of my sonnets are!)
for the Beautiful Lies Poetry Contest of craig cornish and now for PD's
Shall I compare thee to your mother's arse?
Thou aren’t more lovely, but more flatulent.
Rough winds do shake it; and bring on a farce
And all her clothes hath all too short a rent
Sometime too hot-headed of hell doth burn,
And often is the true nature exposed;
And every foul from fowl; my stomach churns,
By reason, or by nature's raging closed.
But thy infernal diet shall ne’er start
Nor gain possession of which now I grasp;
Nor shall we meet again; let’s stay apart,
When in eternal sounds the voice does rasp,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can cry,
So long lives this, and I bid thee goodbye.
(Sonnet with rhyme on both ends of alternating lines)
The starkness of my world now that he’s gone
pervades in all I see and hear and feel,
but darkness swallows all until the dawn
invades. Then what I’ve lost is made more real!
I yearn for Moon’s return - her tender light
to keep me soothed, for sunshine is my bane.
I burn with thoughts of him. I need, each night,
to sleep away my memories and pain.
He left, and now he’s far away from me
across the globe. Oh, how I loved him so!
Bereft am I while he feels only free.
My loss means where he is tonight shall glow
sweet Moon, caressing him - as once did I,
and soon, I’ll face the glare from morning’s sky!
by Andrea Dietrich
For the Impress me - especially on Iambic meter! (Old / New)Contest of Giorgio V
With dead remnants of autumn at her feet
Abreast a patch of green in early spring
Upon a rocky mantle in retreat
With grief still claiming what tomorrow brings
On her lap, a love story in a book
A satin ribbon marks the place it ends
She turns her face away, she can not look
Beneath an old oak tree that can not bend
She wears the dress that he will never see
Symbolic of a dream not meant to be
Still virgin white with ruffles at the sleeves
Confining her and every breath she breathes
Her mind in distant thoughts that only see
Those autumn leaves still clinging to the trees
Written: May 30th, 2014
Too late for the Isiah's contest, but I posted it anyway.
The picture was such an inspiration.
Lo' beneigh' the random bield, bewails upo' the leaf
An' lea'e me naught but grief and pain, as moone breaks through the heath
Upo' the gilded braes we kissed, luve sang a zephyrs cry
Where say, my luve, o' fare thee weel, till a' the seas gang dry
An' bleak October winds ensue, beneigh' the furrow's frost
The sacred lowe, o' week-plac'd love...o' lost my sweet betroth
Yea withered ere', lies mist and bleak, an' mine an empty hand
With sword in hand, yea wander'd far, monie a ravished land
Och! Fated arrow pierced my heart, cauld by thy warrior's blade
Thy sun has waned, the bluid has poured, so boldly o're the glade
Death oftly feared, tho fear naugt more, so deep within my breast
O' do thou kindly, lie him low, upo' this mound of rest
Whase only faut was lovin thee, my tears in dust, my luve is deeply laid
Immortal I lie down 'ere now, lockt in thy arms, upo' the gilded glade
gilded braes...(golden hills)
gang (going -gone)
sacred lowe (sacred vow)
Dull As A Disease
I am sitting in my Dorchester lair,
Behind the door I do feel your mien,
When my poetic muse is in apt flair
You look real as life, my amore mia.
When I am surfing on the internet,
You are there in my click I envisage,
When I initiate to scribe sonnet,
I see you duly embossed on the page.
Sighing, wry face, lips as dry as a leaf
Your green blue deep eyes upraised fully,
Neither the death kills me, nor does the life,
Your very silence eats my soul and body.
Dull as a disease, I die of a thought,
Do not you fancy the same as I ought?.
Dr. Ram Mehta
Third place win
Contest: I Recall by Frank H.
I did not wish to leave your warm embrace --
I did not wish for our sweet love to end --
And though your chauvinism's a disgrace,
I cannot help but see you as a friend.
Perhaps someday a sweeter girl you'll find,
Who'll do just as you wish for her to do --
A girl who doesn't have a thoughtful mind,
So she can focus all she is on you.
She'll nod her head, and brainlessly agree
With anything you say, to make you smile --
She'll cook your meals and serve you honeyed tea,
And never stop her chatter all the while;
So when your brain cells rot from lack of use,
You've only you to blame, and no excuse.
Your eyes beneath the arches of dark brows
were ebony with splashes cinnamon.
One penetrating gaze from you would rouse
a craving that became too strong to shun.
Love unfulfilled, into my dreams you crept,
and your voice, edged with velvet, called to me.
From the fortress tower where I was kept
I’d watch you drawing near. . . my fantasy!
The pathway that you took to me in dreams
was not so filled with thorns as was our fate.
For I would not surrender to your schemes
(though next to you my heart would palpitate!)
You left; I knew you would, and tears like rain
I’ve spilled. . . as in my tower I remain.
For Dr. Ram Mehta's Contest:
The English or Shakepearian Sonnet
(Theme: only unfulfilled love can be romantic)
Such tender whispers waft on salty air
On foggy mornings waves are brushed in gray
I hear you then as winds caress my hair
Your murmur’s soft, but I know what you mean
The day will soon come when we live as one
You know I miss the sea scent in your clothes
Our earthly union – life had just begun
You asked for “waders;” I said, “What are those?”
On morns like this I put your waders on
Reach out and search in misty sea for you
The realms separate us will be gone
To vows we made so long ago, I'm true
My lover, teacher, mentor and best friend
The bond between our souls will never end
*This is an English sonnet
Entry for Debbie and Cyndi's Sonnet contest
Dedicate to my late husband
Written January 15, 2012 for Francine’s “4 forms, 4 themes” contest
Theme: Lost Love
The whole world is not enough,
For my overflowing sorrow to engulf.
The firm mountains could not shake,
By the mere quiver of an earthquake.
When my love could in half cleave.
Oh! My plight is too heavy to handle or believe.
My heart burns like an inferno gyre
Consuming itself in endless fire
She says, “your love spills over the brim.”
She’s mistaken ? she thinks, “It’s a whim!”.
I could open my ribcage
And let my heart utter the adage:
“Love is too good to be true,
When it fades away like a drop of dew.”
He whom once I loved I now do hate
His words and actions shared a harsh disdain
Refusing to allow this bitter fate
My boundaries now exclude his bleak terrain.
To win me, he displayed a tender care;
with courtesy and flattery he disarmed.
Then when my heart was opened up and bare.
he suddenly removed his wondrous charm.
His harshness ,rigid mind and steely heart
Showed him a terrorist in my own sweet lands;
For, suddenly, our love he broke apart
And empty was my once outstretched hand.
Beware of charm and love bestowed too soon
Or you may likewise suffer dread and doom
Only in the dark recess of my sleep
he comes to me again, and yet I rue
this languid joy I feel, while in the deep
hours of night, too divine to be true
For buried, in the deep well of my dreams
are faint, undeniable reflections
where angels of death, with devious schemes
denied my heart such surpreme protection
The ghost of memory finds quite willing
to believe in flesh and blood of his charms
If that is all, then I am most willing
to keep lost in slumber, what is the harm?
Tears wait 'till day breaks, and I reach my hand to him
I find him gone, until the darkness comes again
(Tale of a Broken Heart)