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Best Poems Written by Isaac Abinante

Below are the all-time best Isaac Abinante poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Summer At Heart

Your heart is as gold as a summer day’s end;
Most Gentle as the breeze that makes grain ‘neath it bend;
Warm as heat from the sun that to earth doth descend;
And as free as the flocks that the shepherds do tend; 

For your love is as bold as the twilight’s rich blue,
Yet is sweet as the blackberries, vibrant in hue.
As sustained as the sunrise, awaiting night’s cue,
And how much do I love thee, if only one knew!

If compared to the most beautiful summer’s day?
Tis true I am no Shakespeare, and homage I pay,
But were I of his mind, still no words could I say
To describe e’en in slight one worthy of such praise

No not summer nor winter nor autumn nor spring 
Could compare to the love and the joy that you bring,
And if love were a song, then to you would I sing,
For most precious is love, above everything.

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Love's Sonnet

A feeling that can’t be put
To words. It has suddenly come
Upon me. A tune to hum
Freely. My heart is afoot 
For love’s game. Input
Signals beating like a drum
In my brain. This great maxim
That we are easily fooled by those we love
Plagues my mind. How to express
Something I’d risk the world to say... 
But such thoughts must I confess! 
Or else be trapped in fear’s foul play!
Oh, how love is a beautiful mess!
Thus resolved, I constrain it day by day!

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Winter's Deadly Chill

Winter has a deadly chill
Whereas just six months prior
The earth felt like a blazing fire
Unbearable heat didn’t seem that sweet until
Our toes no longer we could feel
Bitterly bundled up, with long desire
For sunshine, causing skin to perspire.
But now all bundled in bed, street are still
Except for the wind that comes gushing in,
Roaring and howling, disrupting the peace;
So violently evil, it pierces our skin;
So oppressive it weighs down and won’t release
Us from the bondage; a parallel storm within.
So in ardence we pray and plead for winter to cease!

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Writing a Sonnet

A sonnet I shall write
Oh, how does it go? 
Ah, I think I know!
A, B, B, A, am I right?!
And I shall write away the night,
My pen ready to go!
A, B, B, A, twice in a row.
Writing til the morning’s twilight
Breaks through the distant sky.
Now the tune and rhyme changes pace.
6 more lines to go and my
Hands and the sun are engaged in a race.
The finish line drawing nigh;
My pen scribbling, the sun sizzling, a mighty chase!

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My Mind Is Slowly Wand'Ring Far Away

My mind is slowly wand’ring far away
Into the depths of darkness, fear, and doubt;
So far away, no children come to play.
So far away, no one could hear a shout;
No living soul or sign of hope is near;
My mind is in the danger zone, they say;
Too void of life to even shed a tear.
Tis in this place, so dark and dull and grey, 
No word of truth, all thoughts and feelings numb,
It’s here my mind is trapped and must not stay.
Yet here’s the place, the tune we always hum:
Tis better not to feel than feel dismay.
We’re crying out in silence caused by pain,
But when we choose to feel, the world we gain!

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Haikus of the Night

The sun is setting
Slips into obscurity
Now it is twilight

Day’s last glow fades
Deep blue saturates the earth
Turning darker shades

Darkness approaches
Stars pop out by the minute
Twinkle, little star

Starkness now darkness
The landscape curtsies to murk
And thus takes its leave


No shadow in sight
But of glow from the heavens
And pinpoints of light

Dotting the expanse
Harmonious symphony
Thousands at a glance

A motionless dance
Dancing wildly at a stance 
An epiphany

No noise, silent, still
Euphonious mystery
In silent dead chill

Each one to retire
Some turning in for the night
others climb higher 

An odd burning blaze
Constellations in a maze
A long-distant fire

Then a sudden hint
The party not long to last
A faint bluish tint

Then stronger lit skies 
Night’s reign is long and past
Tomorrow’s approach


The show concluded 
The stars now bow and exit 
The set is torn down

Lighter, brighter, dawn
Blackness, from sight, gone
The night is worn out

A different tune now sung
Birds chirp and await the sun
Faint shadows commence

Now the day’s great song
The sun comes galloping along
With the speed of light


Slowly revolving
Odd circular reasoning
To do yet again

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Visceral Intervals

Romans 13:1 - “The authorities that exist have been established by God”… 

Though that seems more of a facade, long shot and a fraud from a world long gone
Since sin no longer seems fiction in this depiction of friction with biased predictions
An election... with no intention of protection for the derelict despite respective messages

Seems like these cycles are a hit-miss of plot twists and taut fists that obscure who God is 
But we make no connection that contention from our own predilection sows dissension
And without intervention comes resentment, we need spiritual direction 

But instead of resting in God’s embrace we attack others with a verbal mace 
while we brace our own heart for impact, still intact, rate of pace faster than light in space
We’re caught up in the race but instead should race to erase the rays of hate from our own race.

Why do we debate the debates as we relegate and castigate with hate, then demand a rebate
or hammer their manner like it’s grammar, then try to conjugate what they obfuscate 
Our minds are lost in space while propaganda confiscates our thoughts of late

Then traps them in relapse, perhaps inaction would produce the largest fraction of satisfaction
But our thoughts are funneled and fueled into to a brew of psychological stew 
so heated and cruel it boils over derision and division, it’s no wonder we have tunneled vision.

Then when the door unhinges, pops open, it’s rigged with bigoted dissonance, explosives
 that spring from an ocean filled with commotion from springs of offense overflowing 
because we dared to confused fact with opinion and reasoning with motive

America caught between a persona gargantuan and aroma of pantsuits and emails scandalous 
The purposes of service is not to deter with private servers or privates and perverts with backers
in reserve or greenbacks in reserves, we reserve the right to deserve more than this disservice

So when we venture into this realm of guesswork where conjecture is turned into  adventure
When the cyclical turns visibly unbiblical with violently physical intervals fueled by the visceral 
Instead of surrendering our heart’s rhapsody of magnitude into apathy and lassitude 

...let us pray for strength to maintain a God sustained attitude of positive aptitude

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Moonbow

A misty call
Where drops doth fall
In moonlit night
By silvery light

Down glowing cliffs
Bright moonlit cliffs
A constant flow
A sight unknown


Yet not the lark
Has seen this arc
Nor has the crow
This bending bow

Down glowing cliffs
Bright moonlight cliffs 
A steady stream
A radiant beam