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Best Imagery Poems

Below are the all-time best Imagery poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of imagery poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Reys Ekphrasis Imagery and Poem by Mast, Reynaldo
The Crafting of Imagery by Poteet, Reason A.
HAIKU Imagery by law, stacey
An Imagery Of You by MC Mills-Cooper, Marquis
IMAGERY EXPRESSION by van Breda, Kim
Malvan Beach imagery deciphered by prabhu, sashi
Euphoniously Dreaming Autumnal Imagery by Jones, Nancy
Drowning with Imagery by Tolar, Abigail
imagery gained by Guerra, Kathy
False Imagery by McMillan Jr., Larry

View all new Imagery Poems

The Best Imagery Poems

Details | Imagery Poem | |

One Green Leaf


One leaf fell from a tall, tall tree
and subtly kissed gnarled roots beneath;
a lover’s kiss below sunned-sheath 
of greenest leaves, a jubilee.  

One spiraling leaf brought playful mirth
to sullen earth of trodden dirt.
A flight of hopeful shades of spring,
for hard, hard ground, an offering

One leaf dressed in a sparkling jade
glided with grace to green grass blades    
and rested near a bubbling brook,
then waited for warm breeze that shook
its flirty skirt on green, green glade.   

An arc of bright green canopy
warmed my heart in bluest mood, 
and one leaf blew a kiss from you.
It twirled and pranced and floated by,
then with a touch it came to lie 
green in my hand, a dear surprise. 

Like emerald hills of Irish tales, 
I marveled at how one leaf sailed
green In my hand that blue, blue day,
a kiss from you on Patty’s Day -
The gray clouds parted shining green, 
a beauty like I’d never seen.


for Francine's Show Me the Green Contest, 3/18/15 

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015


Details | Imagery Poem | |

My Solace, A Poet's Thoughts on Poetry

The wonder of nature you describe with the color of feelings that even the blind sees the beauty, for you anoint with your sight. From my forgotten core, words you inspire gush forth in indignant prose like the lion who protects her young, who roars in warning lest she devour. You lend me insight from your wisdom and give me laughter with your wit, you pump the pulse in my veins when passion and sensuality is lit. You kindle the fire in this heart when love is found and collect the ash from the burnt cinder that haunts, when love is lost. You hold my breath in exhilaration when I soar to triumphant heights, the balm that soothes my pain when I’m down, your song remains the solace I have found when life is hard, and the one profound expression of the myriad emotions that defy words of common use. O Poetry, you bring tears to my eyes, when in your lines I feel God cries as I endure and withstand the ugliness, the haughtiness, of someone’s pride. Yet with the turn of page and time, you coax from my lips such radiant smile for with each stage in this life of mine, a poem is birthed, flutters, and flies.
24 May 2015 Poem of the Week - 31 May to 06 June 2015 Awarded 1st Place for both A Poets's Worth Contest and My Favorite Poem Contest

Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015


Details | Imagery Poem | |

View It From Afar

To appreciate planet Earth
start with its snow capped mountains,
where sunbeams morph crystals of ice
into gems of glistening light.

Witness clouds traverse its skies
floating on a vista of blue,
or a setting sun smear scarlet
onto puffs of marshmallow white.

See jungles at its equator,  
create a sash of vibrant green,
and burnt sands ripple its deserts 
with shifting dunes of tans and creams.

See its leafy forests change from
deciduous to evergreen,
and tundra pitted with blue lakes
fade to stretches of virgin snow.

Watch volcanoes erupt in flame
spuing plumes of ebony smoke,
lava bleeding from gaping wounds
while giving birth to molten earth.

See azure and aquamarine
waves crested with white foamy froth,  
or tilted poles capped in ice
sparkling like crystalline jewels.

View it from afar as it spins
in the vacuum of space, like
a phantasmagorical
glossy cerulean marble.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016


Details | Imagery Poem | |

TO THE FLOWER

TO THE FLOWER Your scent beckoned my weeping heart to painless flight; amidst a garden where God dusts His pretty love. Spring tints are pure and fragrant, free of guilt Your hues painted another sunrise for my eyes; when once I failed to catch the pledge of morn. A seed of hope was born to white petals blush. Though there are silhouettes of bitter yesterdays must all the phantoms of illusions fade and leave...? Your floating aroma stirred and shot my nerves; inspiring a nightingale to sing some joyous laments; It swayed with grace to dance on wind's despotic beat. among the rustling leaves which hug the earth below; So like the sun, which from distant horizon smiles; it roused the sleepy world to begin the pen of baby prose. The unfolding mystery of your petals brought my bewildered mind to peacock's reflection. Alas! All was transient. These eyes probe beneath but were blinded by the intrusion of some stray shine; Ambitions which from afar are building sprout; t'is that which let this self to irksome doubt. Lovely blossom of the wild, this sojourner nigh to tame your perfume's sweet stinging scent. A restless soul by some wicked, destiny pokes; someone called--- but pity, I couldn't tell a note. If by magic, a butterfly I could become; Let it be over my being slowly span. Then with you (though the specters in our midst are fierce), I could jet fly though miseries without fear. But am just a mortal of faith that blows this wish for only covenants call for my journey still? I cannot be forever the one who would share your sweetness; (Harken, fairies of blooms, this wilderness is not my lair.) I shall not want to witness you wilt as no time left to stay. Never again will you see me at day-break's bloom, save something special for others to experience you. This fleeting apparition I so adored; promised me burgeoning petals. "Be not afraid as seasons change, beyond today, I won't be here to see that no harm be done with all intentions to your sacred charm. As today, I leave you to Mother's Nature tender care, for I must go to some greater musing-- heaven's ground. Wilt not, as soon the rain will dash, refreshing you my dear. If I return someday-- will your sublime scent still be here?" __________________________________________________________ Your Best Poem - Poetry Contest Sponsor Shadow Hamilton ~~3rd place~~ Free Verse, Prose Poetry, haibun - Poetry Contest Sponsor Debbie Guzzi ~~2nd Place~~ POEM OF THE DAY: October 21, 2015 Inspired by Susan Seddon Boulet's painting: -----http://media-cache-cd0.pinimg.com/236x/1d/c4/37/1dc437f88c0cfb2fbcc9333bd35bb8c3.jpg ©Olive Eloisa Guillermo October 20, 2014, 10:19 pm

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo | Year Posted 2014


Details | Imagery Poem | |

WORKSHOP POEM: GRAND TOUR TO FAIRYLAND

WORKSHOP POEM: GRAND TOUR TO FAIRYLAND Sprinkled-rainbow clouds reign above the skies, peeping yellow in-between wrinkled pillars shine like bulbs to crash the net of fog attached to curve hands of green Cathedrals. A carpet of bluebells and daffodils covers the earth below. Creeping slow are mosses and vines hugging the trees. Polka dots of blood rich roses stand out. Festoons of lavanders, garlands of lilacs marched a primrose path for the queen while the fruits from cherries' hush blush; to peaches supple flair winks on mellow pear. Afloat midair are high and low golden notes trembling free upon river runs and bushes land. Snaps and bounds from strums of bumblebees; signal the nightingales to sing their anthem loud; Their thumps of dulcet-sounds shake the hours. Scents pure as Spring May cocoons the fair while all around swirls the dragonflies-- the star dancers of the sun-kissed day. Rushing wind whistles a lullaby to cast a spell of never-never-land, for there live... thumb-size flying creatures of their kind. Regal in blinding white are the fays and fairies. __________________________________________________ NEW TITLE: MY TRIP TO FAIRYLAND Rainbow-sprinkled clouds marching above the skies, Sun's golden rays peek in-between curved hands of lush green Cathedrals crashing the net of fog sleeping on the ground. A carpet of bluebells plus flashing violets exhale scents on the air. Sly-like mosses and vines hug the trunk of trees. Polka dots of blood rich roses pose, standing grand. Festoons of lavanders, garland of lilacs, swelling banana blossoms, cherries hush-rush blushes with peaches winking flair on frowning pears all prod to honor the queen. High and low golden notes tremble free upon river runs to proud bushes land. From strums of bumblebees are leaps and pounds, luring nightingales'anthem on a merry-dancing groove. Thumps of dulcet-sounds shake the passing hours, Rainbow hues cocoons the fair while all around dragonflies twirl and dive- they, the star-dancers of that sun kissed day. Impressed wind whistles the lullaby spelling never-never-land, for there... there live.. thumb-size flying creatures regal in blinding white-- are the fays and fairies. ______________________________________________ POEM OF THE DAY ---April 07, 2015 ©O.E> Guillermo 9:52 pm, April 05, 2015

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo | Year Posted 2015


Details | Imagery Poem | |

THE WHEEL HAS COME FULL CIRCLE

What goes up must come down. 
No colors can define who you are. 
You may own a cart or limousine. 
We'll still reach the end when it is near. 
I may be poor today and eat from trash. 
Tomorrow, you can't tell. I'll earn some cash. 
The bed where you lie is soft and wide. 
I sleep at a sidewalk and the stars are my lamp. 
You wake up each morn' with a feast on your table 
While we are scavenging to fill stomachs when we're able. 
Our destiny isn't written in the stars. 
We work for a living to thrive in this life. 
Be thankful every morning you witness the sun 
And pray tonight that no one lives same as I. 
Wheels come in full circle,rolling round and round. 
Today you'll be on top, 
I am watching from the ground. 
Let us bear in our minds that we are better than birds. 
Our loving Father ensures each mouth is fed. 
Not even the smallest details can pass by His eyes. 
So plant a seed of kindness and reap a better life. 



sponsor:FRANK H.

name of 
contest: SHAKESPEARE

*5th Place winner








Copyright © Aiyah de Torres | Year Posted 2014


Details | Imagery Poem | |

My Heart Skips a Beat My Love

My heart skips a beat my love each and every time 
I’m with you my dearest sweet and lovely Darling
Since the passions and feelings you stir in me
Touch the very depth of my inner being and soul
And render themselves not to mere words only
Suitable for depiction, exhibition, understanding
Rather to the image and strength of your beauty
And your rapturous desire and feeling as they
Defy rational attempts at any simple description
For you are the most radiant beyond all compare
	
My heart skips a beat my love when we lie together
Locked in a most enchanting embrace and kissing
So deeply, palpably that we run out of breath and pant
Anxiously at what comes next in our mutual longing
And crescendo as our passions explode and express
Themselves in a most hungry trail of urges and desires
Which makes finding love for us all the more magical
Pairing us together like a couple of star-struck kids 
Lost impossibly in moments of hope and imagination 
In a timeless world of love, desire, emotion, and oneness

My heart skips a beat my love when we walk so closely
Hand-in-hand talking, laughing, and living our dreams
Confronting the world and taking on whatever comes
Next as we steer our ship of destiny on a true course
Where our like-thoughts and deep love for each other
Mean something quite special that only Dreamers and 
Poets can imagine and set to melody and harmony in perfect 
Verses of sheer passion and delight painted onto a canvas  
Of unending happiness where Heaven and Earth are one
My heart skips a beat my love when we’re forever one

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(November 5, 2014) (Free Verse)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014


Details | Imagery Poem | |

Sculpted Shades Of White

Starlight pierces ebony,
above sculpted shades of white.
And moonbeams soften the scene,
gilding night with golden light.

Donning a crystalline dress, 
Nature's a picture of grace.
And draped in feathery down,
stands frozen in time and space.

Billions of flakes gathering
on branches, begin to freeze.
And subtle features are carved,
by the breath of a sharp breeze.

It doesn't blow hard enough, 
to dislodge the sticky snow.
And the laden branches bend,
bowing impossibly low.

Cold cast an enchanted spell,
in the throes of arctic chill.
And silence imbues magic,
to winter's artistic skill.


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015


Details | Imagery Poem | |

The Sands of Love

Two statues of stone
On pedestals in the park
One male
One female
White objects of a perfections beauty
Yet they stood erect and alone
When the rain fell
This was their tears
The stared at each other with longing
The trees grew tall
Season by season the flowers bloomed
Two statues standing erect in the prison of life's hold

A poet walked in the park
Glancing at lovers, kisses at dusk
He stared at the statues above his head
He knew, with dread, the loneliness of stone maidens
He waited for the park to become enclosed in the twilight
With toil and sweat he did succeed on his lark
Pushing the statues close rather than apart
As one statue danced and the other one sang
They kissed the sweetness of night and felt the tears of joy
All because a poet
Wished them a lovers embrace
He knew them like they were his children
For here he was as well
A statue
In love

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015


Details | Imagery Poem | |

THE VAMPIRE

For I am death, the personification of pure evil,
The grand godfather, of legions of unnumbered generations.
Behold thy disciples, baptized beneath my crimson waters,
Of blood.
Then reanimated as the living undead, in mine own image,
These are my forsaken children of the Night.
Kissed by the angel of death, I'm resurrections insurrection,
Spawned in hell a creature devoid of heart or soul, yet do I
Exist, biting at the exposed throat of humanity, leaving it
Drained completely dry.
Does not the white lily turn ember red, within this the
Valley of damnation.
My throne is a black coffin gilded in golden refinement,
Residing beneath the wooden lid, the beast sleeps,
Waiting to be embraced by the darkness of night.
Slowly, emerging from mine cryptic mausoleum,
I'm famished for the taste of the living essence
Of mankind.
A gentlemen reaper of the fallen, deeply do these
Fangs penetrate into the soft flesh of humanity,
Tis a dark blessing's supernatural gift, have I been 
So given, to take life then to restore it.
Raw beasts of instinct, clinging to the ethereal
Moon, that hangs above illuminating this,
Our unholy abyss.
Welcome to a shadow nation of the unseen,
Whose roots extend backwards, to an older country’s
Unconsecrated soil, called Transylvania. 
On mine legacies crest, a red dragon with talons
Extended reaches out, grappling for powers control.
For I am Dracula, born of royal blood in life,
But in death I am a king, let these castle walls
Bleed on forever, and the hounds of hell,
Sing outside my rod iron gates.
But beware mortal flesh if you so enter,
For I will enjoy every trespasser,
Whom dares to venture within my
Sacred territory, with a fiendish smile
Upon my hungering face.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014


Details | Imagery Poem | |

An Open Window


I watch this world pass by, miracle after miracle, overcome with thoughts of life and death - heated in a buttery sky; the air melts into far corners, farther than my eyes can see. Faster, this world spins into eternity, faith, and possibilities. An open window becomes a gate to step through, a starting place - as a bluebird dips in the birdbath, squirrels scurry across green grass, a blue horizon darkens like a memory. Those who hurriedly pass by feign contentment with plastic smiles, earbuds, cell phones, a false sense of purpose. I feel content, at peace, and yet, I ache for more - a yearning from deep within. I feel it wash over my skin. Cars drive by, everyone’s going somewhere, but not I. I sit here…I watch. I whisper a short prayer for a friend, I remain silent with His answer – patience…all will work out in time; head bowed, I pray for His healing hands to touch me. In my father’s arms, I am comforted and whole. I am who He sees… sunlight traces storm clouds painting rainbows over shadowed trees, a beautiful canopy. His love flows through me, pouring out at Calvary. In the afternoon rain, I see each drop of blood. A choir of clouds congregate. I hear their worship song. I see a crown of thorns around them. I feel the weight of the cross He struggles to carry. Mangos fall with the rain from a shaken tree, then lay bruised on limp, wet leaves; flies begin to swarm around them; following the clouds trajectory, I envision more than I can bear - His slashed skin and mangled bones flash before my eyes. With hands nailed, He's hung on the cross in shame and suffering; every labored breath taken until death for an ungrateful world… my soul seems to understand what I cannot grasp…all of this, He did for me….and you. Love becomes more than a word, a blessing becomes more than a concept. I sit at my window unnoticed; I watch the world pass by - every leaf, pebble, bird, raindrop and new life, I see, like a child with a loving father, a miracle…

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015


Details | Imagery Poem | |

Leaves of the Dead

Leaves of the Dead

Les feuilles mortes 



They fall like dead soldiers
Dreams knifed in the dead of night
It is as yesterday
Once more
Where love was kissing my cheek
Where hopes had dreams
One could see the blossom of loves desires

Leaves falling in the park
Autumn coldness brings the dark
Death marching towards winters fate
Young love broken at the graveyard gates


Ah now I am holding a cane
I have all but forgotten yesterday
I have no lovers
My friends have all but gone
To their designated places in the ground
Piano keys in soft lit lounges
I remember the vodka stingers and sultry singers 
Telling me life was jolie oh so jolie
If only there was love…

Leaves falling in the park
Autumn coldness brings the dark
Death marching towards winters fate
Young love broken at the graveyard gates

At 3am, with burnt cigarette butts
If only there was love
When the metro finds it’s unwitting end
Reality and cubes make ugly paintings
There are only drunks
Dreamers and bums
Thief’s picking pockets of your final instructions

Leaves falling in the park
Autumn coldness brings the dark
Death marching towards winters fate
Young love broken at the graveyard gates

If you can sober up and face the poverty
Of your empty aspirations of hope
Come to the bois de Vincennes
Where Kings and Queens danced and dined
What better place
To splay the butter
So that the knife slides smooth
Whilst the sun fades kissing the seine
Autumn leaves will fall
Dead again

Leaves falling in the park
Autumn coldness brings the dark
Death marching towards winters fate
Young love broken at the graveyard gates

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016


Details | Imagery Poem | |

Everything's Okay

Hope is but an illusion,
in the hearts of naive youth.
And non-responsive to dreams,
or expectations of truth.

Through anguish and frustration,
bravado falters and slips.
Yet within your fantasies,
passion drips from cherry lips.

Love courts imagination,
summoning a dreamy smile.
And you find your private place, 
where you go once in a while. 

You yearn for a soul mate to
share your total existence.
And still continue to look, 
with undying persistence.

You fall in and out of love,   
with the ghosts of yesterday.
And while feigning happiness, 
pretend everything's okay.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015


Details | Imagery Poem | |

Callused Fingers

Callused fingers press vibrating strings,
drawing passion from a violin.
And with burnished wood snug to his cheek,
the violinist plays from his heart.

Subtle vibes saturate my being,
as crying strings elicit feelings.
And expounding on love’s betrayal,
music stirs the imagination.

His bow hangs like a lingering kiss,
savoring the taste of ecstasy.
And then with tears trickling down his cheek,
he unleashes unbridled fervor.

Experiencing pangs of rapture,
sound slips the bonds of reality.
And every note penetrates my heart,
arousing emotions deep within.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015


Details | Imagery Poem | |

Periodic table of Elements

Periodic table of elements





Periodic table of elements,
the true heart of chemistry,
Law of periodicity clements,
Mendeleev is not a history !

Bonding between two hearts,
ignoring all the negatives,
When breaks and rips apart,
defying the electro positives,

Atoms randomly disperse,
Directionless, blinded and betrayed,
Valencies in their course traverse,
Swaying in the numbers brigade !







Written January 2nd, 2015
For contest "Periodic table of elements" by Anthony Slausen 



Copyright © Dr. Upma A. Sharma | Year Posted 2015


Details | Imagery Poem | |

BLACK MAGIC WOMAN


Madame Mistress, ebonies princess,
Southern comforts golden jewel,
A golden beauty down south does dwell.
She hides many secrets beneath her,
Glittering mask of mystery's mystic spells.
A dark priestess is this Cajun queen,
Black widows magic women,
Known as Ms. New Orleans.
In her crimson gown, trimmed by
Velvet's purple hues, she smiles
Behind her white lace fan.
A beguiling angel is she the devils
 Own kindred.
The voodoo queen of the swampy delta,
Ruling over the shadow demons,
Whom guard the everglades.
Underneath fancy face and social grace,
Lies the misbegotten heart of a
 Witches soul.
Here the trumpets sound at,
La Carnival as minstrels stroll,
Down Bourbon Street with rhythmic,
Precision's precise step.
Come join in celebrations grand parade,
The Maude Gra. Where anything goes,
Here things are forgotten as the sun rises,
This grand lady of beauty's legacy's charm.
Presses one finger to her redden lips,
Speaking not more than a hushed whispers
Sigh carried across bayou.
Thus does the Spanish moss weep, for
Those lost souls swallowed whole,
Beneath nights dark covenant of death.
Ghostly images walk the muddy side shores,
Phantom spectators existing as prisoners,
Trapped in limbos web, a thin fine line
Between the living and the dead.
Beware lone travelers, those for whom,
Seek mysteries glamor and mystic,
Of the southern by ways.
All are welcome to taste our spicy
Hospitality.
Yet beware pay homages respect,
To Mz. New Orleans, she after all takes
Great care of her own.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

 


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015


Details | Imagery Poem | |

Shadow to Shadow

Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
In youth the Eden where you played
was left bereft, destroyed, decayed,
by trusts malignant masquerade

Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
Sweet grass dies in your fallow glade
as opportunist needs invade
and bleed the life from every blade

Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
First, victims surging song is brayed,
then dirges of the helpless fade
and urges pant their serenade

Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
Agendas you've arranged cascade
to keep your motives undisplayed
and cover cracks in your charade

Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
You've planted with your soiled spade
slick seeds of doubt in hopes that they'd
conceal the putrid plots you've laid

Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
Your blighted past will be replayed
and every bloom on whom you've preyed
must lie now in the beds you've made

Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2015


Details | Imagery Poem | |

The Moon, The Swan, The Rose

The Moon, The Swan, The Rose

I see an enchanted image that you’ve never dreamed of
With reflections twinkling while dancing on wave drops
Of a dreamy blue lake that is a mirror of one white swan

A dancing beauty with a pureness that blesses this water
She floats like a princess with such an elegance and grace
As splendor ripples through a lens of her divine existence
 
A canvas painting as one masterpiece beyond compare
As the moonlight manifests a sweet rose in my dreams
Beautiful to desire now that nothing shall be disturbed

Within a frozen memory a brilliant diamond illuminates
As the full moon’s image enters the depths of her soul
And a sad, certain loneliness leaves her spirit exhausted

Arising before my eyes on the wings of angels I see all 
Clearly now with an excited, fluttering magical heartbeat 
Believe me—that this eternal blue sky is incredibly real

With a golden orb of light colors reflecting so exquisitely
Now as majestic images of God’s Heaven appear above
I see His very image of the Moon, the Swan, and the Rose

Anne-Lise Andresen, Gary Bateman, and Liam McDaid
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
September 2, 2015 (Unrhymed Tercet)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015


Details | Imagery Poem | |

Hope Outweighs Sorrow

Falling in love is magic,
your heart feels like it’s on fire.
And your ears hear only hope,
not the words of a liar.

Yet, when trust begin to weaken,
love’s illusion conjures up lies.
And an outpouring of pain,
replaces truth as it dies.

Fear gathers up nagging doubts,
that morph into last goodbyes.
And your dreams discreetly drown,
as tears spill from crying eyes.

And yet, time’s a river, always
flowing towards tomorrow.
Let its current carry you
to where hope, outweighs sorrow.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015


Details | Imagery Poem | |

Sol Squints

At dusk, Sol squints His crimson eye,
clinging to the edge of the earth.
And as scarlet smears a teal sky,
day dies, awaiting dawn's rebirth.

Vermilion clouds float overhead,
hovering high above the ground.
And as the horizon bleeds red,
darkness descends, without a sound.

Charcoal smudges, dabbled on blue,
merge in the creases of the night.
And a lone owl bids day adieu,
silhouetted against last light.

Shadows flow like rivers of black,
as twilight dwindles in the dark. 
And daylight slips into a crack,
abandoning a landscape stark.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015


Details | Imagery Poem | |

Where Freedom Finds the Fire

You'll find it in the crimson eyes
of a throwaway photo somehow frozen in time.
When the past painted us like demons
with secret fury.
And you'll find it in the smell of a burning memory
like melting microfilm becoming enraged

(gifted with the freedom to deny
first appearances)

You'll find it in the cedar smoke
of Tyndale's earthen cage
roasting in a bale of hay for crimes unknown.
Where the fire of his message burned mighty
through a thousand hungry hearts that day

(where ancient ink once again
took a detour into youthful veins)

You'll find it in the velvet ash
of a (just one more) cigarette
being flippantly flicked into December sky
for reasons unknown.
Where yellowed fingernails bear witness
of freedom to live and freedom to die,

leaving not an inch of space to analyze;
for the fickle flames - much like life -
waits for no one.

You'll find it in the platinum tendrils
of a Colt 45, that so quickly took a life,
in the burning heat of an eternal second.
Where curled fingers and steady stare
makes it painfully aware
freedom is a pitiful beauty, ugly as sin,
and as right as rain

(ask the victims of Hiroshima --- they'll tell the same)

You'll find it in the vermilion sky
blazing brighter than passion pure;
stopping the world gears, of rat-race routine,
and turning a thousand rusty necks Heavenward

Where minds silently unhinge      (for a moment)
And fear itself begins to cringe      (for a moment)

When faced with childlike wonder
blind eyes will see.
A rejuvenating spark
this freedom can be.

And you'll find it the explosion of ecstasy
like a rose blooming in tenacious time-lapse.
You'll find it in the Cherokee midnight dance,
being warmed by the tongues of freedom personified.

Where Common Sense no longer applies,
for when freedom found his heart's desire,
you know it was a compromise.

Losing his mind, and losing his life,
in the process of a martyrdom
for all things beautiful and all things temporary,
in its earthly essence

... where freedom finds the fire,
you can't tell the difference.



Written March 23rd, 2016
For the Where The Freedom Finds the Fire Contest Hosted by Justin Bordner

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016


Details | Imagery Poem | |

I Recall Mockingbirds Singing To Me

I Recall Mockingbirds Singing To Me

My life now so far away in the past
resting back in that glowing red sunset;
in lost memories where dreams always last
wishing for lost time, I can never get.

As fading shadows dance in bonfire's glow
I recall mockingbirds singing to me;
precious gifts such memory plants to sow
so like seeds dropping from big red-oak tree.

My eyes filled with falling tears, my soul sees
far beyond, well past my mind's window sills;
Green forests in my life with their lost trees
resting back there, lasting memory hills.

As my life now sends me yearning anew,
images parading forth, treasures so true!

Robert J. Lindley, 4-03-2016

Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables:	140
Total # Lines:	17  (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:	Total # Words:	105

Note:  I had to visit my favorite woods yesterday(AS WAS MUCH  NEEDED RELIEF), this came to me this fine morn, a sonnet..

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016


Details | Imagery Poem | |

Wrapped In Honey Of Her Naked Pies

Wrapped In Honey Of Her Naked Pies

Are memories really just our souls leaving
in clouds of shimmering hot mists.
And what of love and all that hot heaving
or stored memories on lustful lists!

Can the mind create truth from mere dregs
women so beautiful your brain cries.
All curves, graceful long ,long sexy legs
wrapped in honey of her naked pies!

Alas! Say it tis not a treasure imagined
what of the deep sensations of bliss?
Or her choice of lingerie in latest fashion
epic thrill of that greatest ever kiss?

Slay me now, if my treasures are not real.
I want no world devoid of that hot night's thrill.

R.J. Lindley
June 6th, 1983

Sonnet, on my terms.... 

Note_  Too hot, was deleted, graphic
details of that first night and ******** *** ************

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016


Details | Imagery Poem | |

As Liquid Fire Melts

As Liquid Fire Melts

As liquid fire melts with twinkling sunshine in your eyes, 
Opening wings now embrace deeply all of my true emotions.

Feeling the warmth of your beating heart now fluttering so,
I see a radiant chain of daisies growing in the deep green grass.
 
Every choice I have ever made throughout my long life,
Has led me now to you at this very special moment in time. 

Beholding ivory silk starlight whispers of Heavenly angels true, 
I have now a clear vision of my life, my fate, and my destiny. 

Becoming the richest person in this giant, lonely world—
Means finding you and sharing our love unconditionally.

All real emotions we have beholding in this life of ours,
Are part of that God-given sensitivity from the Almighty.

Truly, as liquid fire melts beyond in great stars of the cosmos,
I think of you, our love, and the starlight whispers of angels true!

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid, A Collaborated Poem 
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – April 21, 2016
(Unrhymed Couplet)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2016


Details | Imagery Poem | |

- Valentines Kiss -

Forever dazzling golden memories treasure flashbacks
Floating always within deep waters mirror reflections

There's nothing in the universe that compares to you
Into our world of inspirational and beautiful dreams

Growing wings in loves light freedom flies
Inside dancing warm waves of feathered feelings

I believe that you're my destiny I see the shine in my life
These are the special things that make me love you

Soul touching beautiful blue rising sparkling diamond kiss
Salted from deepest ocean currents one dream sings 

Exactly where the ocean begins and it decides to meet
Making me want to live in the moment forever
 
Sweet lips burst with flavor tides turn as the piper fish plays music
Flying over the sea sweet tunes dancing in ripples of light 

With honesty and compassion a gift so great
I can only give you one thing my love is where you are


A co write written by Liam Mc Daid and Anne-Lise Andresen
thank you anne lise a pleasure writing this with you dear friend 

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015