Above the pristine, blue lake mountains stand
Shrubs and yellow flowers surround on land
Could this be heaven? Garden of Eden?
Reflection in water is of God’s hand
I visit here to cast the world away
An inspiring way to spend the day
My pad and pen are toted to this site
Where I’ve time to think beyond society’s fray
For you will find no conflict at this site
And often I linger here through the night
Nary a creature has threatened me here
Nature in harmony, such a delight
Written for John Freeman’s Rubaiyat contest and based on his lovely photo of
A dragon's scale reflects the rounds of time
her heart, the subtle beat of love sublime
a secret kept in smoke and ancient bones-
a tale best told in whispered lines of rhyme.
She flies the crystal skies in silent tones
a burning hope of love is all she owns
forgotten visions lost in endless tales
and buried deep beneath the cobbled stones.
Remaining true beyond the mystic vales
her longing for soul's kinship never pales
though crushing eras weigh upon her name,
her eyes still scan the blue where hope still sails.
The day will dawn when once again her flame
will blaze along the sky and one will tame
rebellious spirit, and her heart reclaim
from solitude's dark grasp to light's domain.
Night spills over the day like India ink from a well
bleeding into the deep crevasses of hill and dell
running into clear cold streams once shimmering, bright
painting Prussian blue the trees on the high chaparral.
Night edges the golden hour of Autumn days so bright
merging with the harvest moon, the solstice at midnight
melting in to sleepy hollows, pale and bloodless blue,
cajoling colonies of bats to bank and soar in flight.
Night caresses the winsome lovers silhouette.. adieu
as its hold is weakened toward a shade of baby-blue
A painter's pallet is the night of hues, shades of light
the sovereign signs of fantasy as darkness ensues.
*Interlocking Rubaiyat where the rhyme of lines 1,2&4
of verse one are taken from the end word of line 3
in the verse before, the last verse returns the end rhyme
of line 3 ;)
My trauma wears the black cloak of night
I breathe rapid, heaving sighs of fright
Wind is sucked out, my sails gasp in hollow air
Bronchi in knots, constriction so tight!
Descending darkness with its chill and freeze
Lungs pumping storms with a whistling wheeze
The drying out reservoir of sustaining oxygen
As I struggle to inhale fresh breeze.
Spasms haunt my black nights with an alarming persistence
Threatening to cut short the chord of existence
Draining vigor and vitality, gripping wind pipe in a choke hold
Viperous asthma spews venom with vengeance!
Panting, doubling over, chest congested with rattling cough
Breathless but determined I grope about in darkness, battling
Just one puff away from agony, I desperately rummage
Magic potion inhaler among medication, mottling!
The devil disappears at the first touch of sun ray
A little shaky still, yet I waltz through my day
Each unobstructed breathe seems like a gift from Heaven
Before night fall I shall rid the ghost off my way!
Shikayat Toh Sabhi Karte hai
Par shikayat karoge Kab Tak
Haqeeqat Ki Talaash To Sabko Hai
Par Haqeeqat Talaashoge Kab Tak
Jo Bhi Hai
Yehi Zindagi Hai Bas
Jilo Thoda Iseh
Zinda Ho Jab Tak
Sometimes in relationships our love defeats our lust, but sometimes not;
Sometimes in relationships our peace is kept by trust, but sometimes not.
Sometimes in relationships we, each to each, are hurt and held and healed;
Sometimes in relationships we share our heart and mind, but sometimes not.
Sometimes we are lost lovers, our lives blaze with brighter bursts of passion;
Sometimes we are best friends, we balance with compassion, but sometimes not.
Sometimes we are up-in-arms night and day, our battles are fought and won;
Sometimes we are at-loose-ends and struggle to be one, but sometimes not.
Sometimes we are with others, together we entertain family;
Sometimes we are you and me; two is good company, but sometimes not.
I’m Physically and Emotionally tired
I don’t want to be the strong one anymore
I can’t this time
I don’t know what to do Daddy
I need your help down here
I can’t get back in control of my emotions
I’m having a hard time dealing with your absence
I’m having a hard time standing by myself
I need your help Daddy
I’m broken and lost without you Daddy
I need your will to want to carry on
I need your strength to over come this
I need your strength to stay standing
Your courage to fight back again
I need your help
Please Daddy I’m at a loss
How am I suppose to do this
I need your guidance
I need you to guide me back
To whom I was before
I need your help Daddy
I need your help
For so long you’ve been hiding from me in seclusion
Wise Muse, I must gasp as I make an intrusion
I know your plan was to lead me to such splendor
Now I inhale a spiritual transfusion
While struggling in a world of carnal illusion
I needed to accept grace for absolution
Stone mountains, yellow flowers and a cool, clear lake
Have led me to ponder thoughts of adoration
There are times when the world’s harshness cuts like a knife
We lose too many moments focusing on strife
Above those azure skies, our Savior smiles down
And leads us to an Eden of eternal life
Inspiration now flows through my pen thanks to You
In this serene outpost, my spirits will renew
Natural beauty is one of Your greatest gifts
The dawn of a blessed new age may now ensue
*Entry for John Freeman's "Rubaiyat Form" contest
Where no sound escapes unchallenged above the din
of too many wars, waged for profits that have no future.
Lost now, only darkness clutches, upon his demise.
Fables, told ‘round friendly fires, chant his name eternal.
Birds of the forest, and fish in the sea, remembered his kindness forever,
and slowed in silence, when spirits spread the news of his demise.
From eastern tongues, chants heard in midnight chapels,
aglow in reverent prayer ‘till daylight dawned,
and rows of fallen soldiers, white stones of his demise.
His friends who could not broach the musket….lift the water pail,
and scorned the day of distant guns, their path was lost.
The masters of the chase cursed not of his demise.
Tho centuries turn, the din still heard, fresh enemies forged,
repeat once more, while mothers weep, their cries unheard,
and planes come home to belch caskets, filled with his demise.
The fallen sing from distant stars, so bright for all to see,
with blending light, the truth never dies.
Behold the day when all will see the end of his demise.
© All Rights Reserved
Of bud bossed delicate; in its aroma much will enfold!
The turbulence of youth; also the seasoned and the old.
Tetra pedes, cross pages, sober.. in black, throughout the ages
Oh! to pass to others this understanding; and in bold.
Manifold are images, ‘thrusting now fresh into flower,
To awareness, of precious cargo; as in life’s laden bower...’
Penta metron sketch outlines, though imperfectly employed;
I reach to the stars today; as yet passes my hour!...
Translucence shows within the fading of life’s colour
As this continuing expressive awaits its turn, of another!..
My thoughts fill like pages, to blossoms in bloom
A soft falling, as petals; to your earth, my sister & brother...
To re-count of life’s possibility's... in the Rubaiyat form;
Melding its grandeur; to the bland magnitude of today’s norm!
Opening in its intricacy, the doorway to ecstasy
Playing many a cadence, relayed from its echoes borne.
Ever may its blossoms & completeness be flowering,
Entwining with the lines of the sages, to forever cling!
Refreshing the heart; perhaps a world? now tired and worn.
To a climax of prosody, does this weave of true praises sing.
© Joe Maverick.co.uk
I have added notes in the ‘To know more about this poem area’.