Augmenting Poems | Examples

a sailor goes ashore

The sailor goes ashore.

the night in the hallway paled into a yellowish screen
showing a black movie, 1963
A time machine of memories sent him back to the years
to meet people long since gone.
A family at the dinner table of people he knew too well
the shadow of his 125 years old father was not there
nectar drinking Colibri exotic as Christmas present never received, the one in the toy shop, a red firetruck
with wooden wheels
And he, the son of the oldest man in the world, had gone to sea, and when he returned, nothing was as remembered, differently by the people around the table
A lacuna of missed years, a distance that was unbridgeable whenever he came home, a stranger silent
augmenting the gap filled with politeness.
They had known and seen him grow to adulthood, but his character remained a mystery, sitting in the living room.
 They were related to him and knew he would leave soon.
A nurse gently touched his shoulder are you awake?
Yes, mother, I'm home from the sea.

ashore at last

Ashore at last

The night in the hallway paled into a yellowish screen
showing a black movie, ca 1963
A time machine of memories sent him back to the years 
to meet people long since gone.
A family at the dinner table of people he knew too well 
the shadow of his 125-year-old father was not there
nectar drinking Colibri exotic as Christmas present never received, the one in the toy shop, a red firetruck with wooden wheels
And he, the son of the oldest man in the world, had gone to sea, and when he returned, nothing was as remembered, differently by the people around the table
an ocean of missed years, a distance that was unbridgeable whenever he came home, a stranger silent
augmenting the gap filled with politeness.
They had known and seen him grow to adulthood, but his character remained a mystery, sitting in the living. room
somehow, they were related to him
 they knew he would leave soon.
A nurse gently touched his shoulder,
you are awake?
Yes, my dear, I'm home from the sea.

home at last

Ashore at last

The night in the hallway paled into a yellowish screen
showing a black movie, ca 1963
A time machine of memories sent him back to the years 
to meet people long since gone.
A family at the dinner table of people he knew too well 
the shadow of his 125-year-old father was not there
nectar drinking Colibri exotic as Christmas present never received, the one in the toy shop, a red firetruck with wooden wheels
And he, the son of the oldest man in the world, had gone to sea, and when he returned, nothing was as remembered, differently by the people around the table
an ocean of missed years, a distance that was unbridgeable whenever he came home, a stranger silent
augmenting the gap filled with politeness.
They had known and seen him grow to adulthood, but his character remained a mystery, sitting in the living. room
somehow, they were related to him
 they knew he would leave soon.
A nurse gently touched his shoulder,
you are awake?
Yes, my dear, I'm home from the sea.

Icarus, Revisited

In a house, half-mad, with mother and dad,
And a labyrinth he couldn’t escape -  
He trudged the maze, with a string ball, so sad.
The sky’s warm, gay orb, too, was round in shape.  
So pretty was she, he dreamt as he marched,
And he constructed a bright plan in his head,
Sweating through shirts which his mother had starched,
He remembered what his father had said.
He would see his girl (the sun in the sky).
Augmenting his arms with two waxen wings,
A catapult shot him o’er clouds so high.
He burned, melted, crashed, his arms then in slings.  

Dad said, “too close”, but his expounding lacks -
It was - his wings were inferior wax.

mariner ashore

The Mariner ashore

the night in the hallway paled into a yellowish screen
showing a black&white movie ca 1963
A time machine of memories sent him back to the years 
to meet people long since gone.
A family at the dinner table of people he knew too well 
the shadow of his 125 years old father, was not there
nectar drinking Colibri exotic as Christmas present never received, the one in the toy shop, a red firetruck
with wooden wheels
And he, the son of the oldest man in the world, had gone to sea, and when he returned nothing was as remembered, differently by the people around the table
A lacuna of missed years, a distance that was unbridgeable whenever he came home, a stranger silent
augmenting the gap filled with politeness.
They had known and seen him grow to adulthood, but his character remained a mystery, sitting in the living. room
somehow they were related to him, they knew he would leave soon.
A nurse gently touched his shoulder, are awake?
Yes, mother, I'm home from the sea

Can We Ever Be the Same?

the river bank calm
and the augmenting silence
between us.
minds enveloped in scepticism,
actions tied with strictures.
“Can we ever be the same?”,
she asked.
her eyes nostalgic.
time paralysed. 
i could say nothing
but shed a tear. 

-gurumali

Silent Song of Breeze

“The silent song of the sighing breeze,”
In leafless demeanor of shuddering trees,
Whispered cries of a dismantled dream
Augmenting dissonance of broken theme,

A theme composed in the promise of yore
Avowing endearing passions evermore,
Of love eternal, enamoring core of soul,
Till its amorous glory, fate savagely stole.

Though zephyrs forlorn, still cruelly blow,
Wailing lovelorn woe of forgotten throe,
Despair is vanquished from song of sorrow,
For hymns of bliss sing of hopeful morro.

Pledges of today, foretell future of ardour,
Vying dreamscapes, musings-ecstatic adore,
Buoying tides of love to tomorrow’s shore,
Abandoning yesteryears memories abhor;

Of pensive sighs, spent-emotions decry,
Of dejection lamenting love gone awry,
Of nightmares trembling sleepless night,
Of allegories wistful, destiny’s hands write.

“The silent song of the sighing breeze,”
Now sings of love, from flowering trees,
Whispering melodies to a dulcet dream
Augmenting allure of lovesome theme.

Line #1

Yuletide

Fog filled mystique dawn  
Fresh and Gentle breeze 
Sunshine falling exquisitely 
On the sparkling dew of the leaves

Kids flushed with red cheeks 
Wrapped in their furs and coats
Playing with the snowballs
Cherishing the moment to its most

Snow mans all around the corner 
Streets illuminated with gleaming lights
Marking the advent of christmas
Augmenting the charm to the nights

Season of Cakes and candies 
City tinted with red and white
Waiting for presents from Santa
Savouring delicacies with delight

Celebrating the birth of the God of honesty 
The symbol of faith and humility , Jesus 
Adorning avidly the Christmas tree
Gleefully Greeting everyone , Merry Christmas

Find More Farm Implements

I have with concern been lamenting 
With my chilly fears augmenting:
A young promising morning might soon age
And a planter close a helpless page …

My muscles are dying for a cutlass,
My strength enough to not seek a lass
My nostrils fish out odorless fertilizers;
The sparks in my eyes Advertisers 
I shouldn’t ears supply with any story,
Now, I could from Ants snatch their Glory …

Through and through An Agricultural Mind
To more farm implements find;
A new day might start ageing like my father
As time further does its race farther.

Under the Constellations

Under the Constellations 
David J Walker 

We live under the same stars
Whose distance measured in 
Years has not changed

While our favorite
Fortune teller asks about the past
And says soothes about tomorrow 

Augmenting truths about the sorrows of life
And how we might find joy in them

	Anyway

This old animal we call the body
Will return it’s borrow minerals in time
While the spirit takes flight 
Into the nights capacity 
for emptiness

And nothing will have changed except
The recycled names and people living in them
Under the  constant constellations

Elements of Artistry

I've always had the esthetical need to create ~
poetry, paintings, weaving, a flower garden.
Artistic endeavors capture my attention, 
augmenting and enriching the world in my eyes.
A tapestry of textures, or a canvas of colors...
these are things that have become my obsession.

My walls are filled with framed works of art...
conceptions of my heart; I consider them to be.
Rose buds in a vase with lavender, I freshly cut,
or a photo of a hummingbird on my red hibiscus.

It's funny how I speak in rhyme when writing a poem,
and hours after I think it's finished, I edit another line.
A perfectionist, I am not, but I blend oils repeatedly
until shades seem to marry like sunset to moon rise.
In the elements of artistry, I am content and satisfied.



April 7, 2021
My Obsession Contest
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh

Burgundy--

Burgundy
My dear Burgundy, I heard a purple, splendid tapping
Burgundy you color my heart, my soul
You, Oh!, so you said only this you’re in trappings red
I crave the crimson, cerulean canary yellow this I dread
And the rubies never overdrawing
And the rubies always daunting 
Ever so settle,
I am shorn of my bedfellow
Violet. . .
Burgundy you color my heart, my soul, you’re the water in my veins
Sweet purple haze
Remembering many colorful, striking roses
The chromatic colored cultivating
Arose so illuminating!'
And eyes have all and augmenting
As myrtles came launching invigorating
This and a beryl
I have dreamed of the stems
And so I screamed, 'Is that brown?
Burgundy you color my heart, my soul you’re my flower
Eagerly I looked for the claret the pea coat laughed
Orange bled red as brown embraced them
I stand by burgundy she’s all that…better than any fine vintage wine

8/24/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©

Lust Short-Version

Lust is like the salt of the sea. 
The artificial Ambrosia or Siren's fomented Mead.
Augmenting thirst, the more you drink. 
Forgetting the drink came first. Then came a thirst.
To be unshackled to idols in idle mutiny.
Before the fermentation of idolatry. Figureheads, 
flotsam and shipwrecks on the seven stormy seas.

Whose Memories Are These

Whose voices, whose memories are these
That warble in trees, exalting my breeze
Applauding the daybreak's cerulean grin
Where amber ocher designs are floating in

Is that your echo from the cobalt blue sky
Wondering aloud about dawn's tepid sigh
As the morning evoked destiny's knowhow
And birdsongs lauded the blessings of now

When rays of romance in day's golden start
Painted my vistas, charming your heart
A smile you adorned on the saddles of arc
Reminiscent of the past, igniting my spark

I recognize the appeal your passions reveal
In intimate presence that meadows feel--
From way back when in allure of moonlight
Sensuous lips we kissed of an indelible night

Though it was love, it was never expressed
And those feelings afire never got blessed 
So they arise to voice what could have been
Augmenting the dialogue of battles within

April 21, 2019
Poem of the week for the week beginning 4/28/2019
Placed 2nd:What was left unsaid contest by Line Gauthier
HM: Your choice (5) contest by Brian Strand

Feather Meditation

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cXMjNVZIjY0


FLOATING     meditation

FEEL YOUR BODY RISE SLOWLY FROM THE GROUND TO THE AIR.  FLOAT UP TO THE CENTER  OF YOUR SPACIAL SURROUNDING AND ALLOW YOUR SOUL TO GRAVITATE UP RISING TO NEW HEIGHTS. YOU ARE A FEATHER BEING PUSHED UP BY A GENTLE AUGMENTING WIND .  GO TO THE SUMMIT OF YOUR THOUGHTS AND REACH UP AND TOUCH THE PLATFORM OF HEAVEN WITH YOUR MIND (B)
WHEN YOU HAVE REACHED THE APEX OF YOUR JOURNEY LOOK DOWN AND SEE THE OTHER FEATHERS RISING TO MEET Y OU. SOME ARE MOVING AT AN ALARMING SPEED SOME ARE GRADUALLY CLIMBING , SOME ARE DANCING WAY UP THERE WHERE YOU ARE.   AQUAINT YOUR SPIRIT WITH THE NEW ALTITUDE.  ITS AS IF YOU HAVE BEEN ELONGATED AND STRETCHED TOWARD THE TALL TALL SKY (B)

YOU ARE A FEATHER LIGHT, AIRY, BREEZY ,ALWAYS CLIMBING UP TOWARDS THE WEIGHTLESS CLOUDS AND THE DOWNY SUBSTANCE OF GOD'S LOVE MATTER.  YOU BECOME PORTABLE, LIGHT FOOTED ,AND ASTRAL READY . YOU FEEL LIGHT AS A FEATHER, NIMBLE AND AGILE. READY TO TRAVEL TO THE STARS AND NAVIGATE YOUR TEMPLED BODY.  (B)

BENEDICTUS PACEM (BLESSED PEACE) BE WITH YOU.   

21/10/2018

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