Best Absorbs Poems
Days pass into the weak, loveless nights. The moon blinks.
The stars swirl beneath Van Gogh’s brush, as he links.
Comet light passes twisting cypresses, a schizophrenic’s concussion.
On and on, the wind twirls the trees, and does not complain,
nor, does the cosmos cringe awaiting reciprocation.
Lightning bugs mimic the stars. Atoms sneer.
Those who spout love and friendship abandon him, sneering.
Their images dance beneath his lids, when he blinks.
Though denied a compass, his soul does not reciprocate.
Through pain, physical and mental, he still connects, links
with the life which absorbs and excludes him, not complaining.
Nights pass without his mistress, Sien. His mind is concussive.
His face trembles torn in the brass sounds of the storm’s concussions.
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick-maker, all of them, sneer.
How unmerciful, this cycle, this God to whom he does not complain.
If lack of mercy is just, may he not know why? Time blinks.
Thinking causes pain. Only painting connects him, he links.
He accepts art and the pain, as gifts, choosing not to reciprocate.
Voices, the paint, the moon, the voices say, reciprocate.
He chases mice. The cheese plate falls with a loud concussion.
He rubs his gnarled hands across his lids. He maintains the link.
How? Why? But, the mice eating his cheese only sneer.
The sunflowers shimmer and wiggle in their vase, as he blinks.
Stumbling, he falls attempting to sit, the chair does not complain.
He had thought God clear as sunlight; yet, the paint complained.
He was not God; he could not capture the light. He must reciprocate.
After all, who was he, but a mere man, ashes to dust; life blinks.
Ah death, le grand mal, no minor concussion,
He must escape, join the celestial spin, and avoid their sneers.
Sick, yes, sick to death of not being understood, not linking.
The brushes call. He prostitutes himself. Oil spills, connecting, linking.
Theo, brother, never would he forgive. Many others would complain.
Ah, Gauguin, His dear friend, he would understand and not sneer.
If God was truly a loving God, surely, he thought; God will not reciprocate.
The mockers who did not live in Dante’s nine levels of hellish concussion,
they will call his actions cowardly. Merciless, they did not live between the blinks.
Categories:
absorbs, god, life,
Form:
Sestina
I See You, Flowers In Your Raven Hair
I see you, in flowery meadow scenes
walking, your blue dress swaying in the wind
your raven hair, beautiful stuff of dreams
and promise, deepest love that never ends.
You see me, with my old pen scribbling so slow
words that poetry absorbs with loud bells
echoing soft tunes shot from heart's love-bow
birthing sheer joy as the oracle tells.
I see you, flowers in your raven hair
coming back, your delicious smile beaming
saying, yes dearest love, I truly care
Fate has decreed our eternal teaming.
You see me, with my old pen scribbling so slow.
Echoing soft tunes shot from heart's love-bow.
Robert J. Lindley, 6-25-2019
Sonnet, ( Where Dream Waves Meet Love's Welcoming Shores)
Note:
Found a moment pen called to dare,
walk from deep dark into that brighter light,
wake again this soul, to its past love bare,
in poetic truth, this life try to repair.
Categories:
absorbs, appreciation, art, beauty, dream,
Form:
Sonnet
"I've got sunshine"
TANKA~ 1
This heavyweight wind
jiggles the chimes limbs hanging
sensitively
a thousand sound waves invade
visible radiation
~~~~~
TANKA~ 2
Dark moonlight tempest
blunders off the mountain top
a massive flooring…
the courageous beam of light
saved souls upon meadow blades
~~~~~
TANKA ~3
A place called daylight
where the beam is always pure
luminescence
if you could only feel this
you’d ask to hold the torchlight
~~~~~
TANKA~ 4
Somewhere were you sleep
the fluorescence substance light
absorbs your beauty
every second that you breath
the light becomes like sunshine
~~~~~
TANKA ~5
Sky of falling stars
belong in my diary
notification
renewing my wedding vows
sunshine begins with me
~~~~~
TANKA~ 6
Missed the snooze button;
pendulum rods tick out loud
morning bird and worm;
sunlit curtains smooth rays
anonymous melody
~~~~~
TANKA ~7
Two rainbows petals
peek outside with loneliness
against no sunlight
rainy weather condition
no color will bring you back
~~~~~
by;PD
10-10-12
for: contest
Categories:
absorbs, allusion, desire, earth day,
Form:
Tanka
Thanksgiving fast approaches
and the bustling has begun
in an enchanting house,
the House of Cinnamon.
With children home for holiday,
the voices that you hear
are sunny as the curtains hung
inside this home of cheer.
As words elatedly resound
through rooms and down the hall,
a glow of kinship grows to warm
each nook of every wall.
Two little ones on father’s knee
now listen to him read
while mother in the kitchen
mixes dough and starts to knead.
The daughters don their aprons,
glad to help their mother bake
while older sons outside leap into
heaps of leaves they rake.
And then the kitchen fills with song
as mother hums a tune.
Her daughters sing the lyrics
as the wee one licks a spoon.
Now the dough with sugar, nuts
and raisins all is rolled
and cut into as many pieces
as each pan will hold.
Inside the oven, butter-drizzled
rolls now ooze and swell,
and soon the habitat absorbs
a most delightful smell.
Outside in chill of autumn’s wind
the boys having fun
can smell sweet scent of cinnamon.
Into the house they run!
Now day has turned to evening.
From a chimney curls grey smoke
as round the hearth inside there sit
the first-arrived of kinfolk.
The children of the house are sleeping,
but when they awake,
they’ll greet the ones they’re thankful for.
Of love will all partake.
For in the House of Cinnamon
a way of life remains
untouched by what the world’s forgot.
Here harmony still reigns.
for The Enchanted House Poetry Contest of Nayda Ivette Negron
Categories:
absorbs, celebration, family,
Form:
Rhyme
As I lay upon a grassy bald in the Great Smoky Mountains on a clear August night, I gaze at the stars and muse about my Creator, the source of all dynamic energy. A tear forms in my eye as I contemplate whether or not he cares about someone as insignificant as me. After all, who am I in his grand scheme of things? A nobody. A nothing. A tiny speck of dust in a seemingly endless universe, full of amazing wonders and mysteries.
I pluck a blade of grass for no other reason than it is there and stare at it for a moment. How many blades of grass must cover the earth, I wonder to myself. Each tiny blade is made of many cells. And each cell contains chloroplasts which are like tiny factories, taking in sunlight and carbon dioxide and turning them into energy in an amazing process called photosynthesis. The green color is worthy of contemplation too. The chlorophyll in the plant absorbs all the colors of the light spectrum except green, which is how it then appears to our eyes. But grass doesn't just cover the land and add to its beauty. It is food for countless living creatures on earth. All these things I have known for years but never gave it much thought till tonight. Why now?
Then it hits me like a warm zephyr. If God put so much thought into creating a blade of grass, he must care about me! Was I not made in his image and likeness? Do I not possess the divine qualities of love, justice, power and wisdom? Does my heart not cry out for the innocents killed in frivolous and unjustifiable wars? Do I not bleed for victims of abuse and neglect? And does my soul not long for a close relationship with my Maker, who has promised better times in the days ahead?
The stars look different now, warmer. The full moon an orb of peace and comfort, hanging in the heavens for my delight. I am loved. I am important. And I will forever be grateful to the One who taught me this invaluable lesson on a hot August night in the Smoky Mountain National Park.
epiphany strikes
stars above gifting insight
me, part of the whole
Categories:
absorbs, appreciation, beauty, creation,
Form:
Haibun
Days pass into the weak, loveless nights. The moon blinks.
The stars swirl beneath Van Gogh’s brush, as he links.
Comet light passes twisting cypresses, a schizophrenic’s concussion.
On and on, the wind twirls the trees, and does not complain,
nor, does the cosmos cringe awaiting reciprocation.
Lightning bugs mimic the stars. Atoms sneer.
Those who spout love and friendship abandon him, sneering.
Their images dance beneath his lids, when he blinks.
Though denied a compass, his soul does not reciprocate.
Through pain, physical and mental, he still connects, links
with the life which absorbs and excludes him, not complaining.
Nights pass without his mistress, Sien. His mind is concussive.
His face trembles torn in the brass sounds of the storm’s concussions.
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick-maker, all of them, sneer.
How unmerciful, this cycle, this God to whom he does not complain.
If lack of mercy is just, may he not know why? Time blinks.
Thinking causes pain. Only painting connects him, he links.
He accepts art and the pain, as gifts, choosing not to reciprocate.
Voices, the paint, the moon, the voices say, reciprocate.
He chases mice. The cheese plate falls with a loud concussion.
He rubs his gnarled hands across his lids. He maintains the link.
How? Why? But, the mice eating his cheese only sneer.
The sunflowers shimmer and wiggle in their vase, as he blinks.
Stumbling, he falls attempting to sit, the chair does not complain.
He had thought God clear as sunlight; yet, the paint complained.
He was not God; he could not capture the light. He must reciprocate.
After all, who was he, but a mere man, ashes to dust; life blinks.
Ah death, le grand mal, no minor concussion,
He must escape, join the celestial spin, and avoid their sneers.
Sick, yes, sick to death of not being understood, not linking.
The brushes call. He prostitutes himself. Oil spills, connecting, linking.
Theo, brother, never would he forgive. Many others would complain.
Ah, Gauguin, His dear friend, he would understand and not sneer.
If God was truly a loving God, surely, he thought; God will not reciprocate.
The mockers who did not live in Dante’s nine levels of hellish concussion,
they will call his actions cowardly. Merciless, they did not live between the blinks.
Categories:
absorbs, anxiety, art, depression, suicide,
Form:
Sestina
I feel myself glowing when
I am in a room with you.
My eyes follow you as you
pour your third cup of coffee.
I've never known anyone who
could consume as much
caffeine as you do
without being wired.
Maybe your six foot three
stature absorbs it less.
The roses you bought me
are beginning to wilt as I softly
beg them to keep alive longer,
kissing their petals that
are as soft as your lips.
When we are home alone together
your sensuous smile warms me,
your deep voice thrills me,
and your dark eyes undress me,
and I am lost in your love.
8-16-19
~Second Placement~
Categories:
absorbs, home, love,
Form:
Free verse
In moments of despondent spirits I turn to you,
the resplendent paradise of secret dreams anew.
The opalescent orchard orchestrates tender hopes,
like cuddling chrysanthemum my fading fear elopes.
Bursting bubbles of beguile blossoms sprinkle love,
frivolous faith nurtures nascent nest of white dove.
I find solace in sumptuous serenades through storms,
in symphony of mellowed streams, my anxiety reforms.
Intertwined petals of Cynthia and magnolia waltz,
undressing my weariness to dissolve draped faults.
Butterflies blissfully slip into alluring aurora,
a healing touch melts my heart in gleaming aura.
A sapphire gem dropped by the albatross as rain,
absorbs my tormented memories in nascent vervain.
The seeds of lavender mellows in whispers strum,
silk strings of your fir-kissed ensnaring soft hum.
How gracefully my soul dances behind velvet dew,
as Asteria and Aphrodite fuse their worlds anew.
In the vineyard of blushing lullabies in light,
my musk-soaked pages flip with snowflakes bright.
The oceans of my universe peek into a shore afar,
dripping in crevices of my sanctuary as your star.
I doze off to a euphony of embraced fingers in sleep,
this secret paradise, our eternal promise I'll keep.
August 17, 2020
Sanctuary Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
~Winner: 1st Place
Categories:
absorbs, analogy, hope, music,
Form:
Couplet
A Brian Strand Premiere No 1224 Poetry Contest, Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Written: June 20, 2023
______________________________________________________________
Zealous
reflections
wrest my heart
humble
pitapatting
Honed
toward my ears
A thrum
glides
alone
Into a
scene
within
finger
tipped
firmed
curved
notes
Seeking each chord
of tempting harmony played
intimately in heartbeats among
the rivulets of a tempo step
Everything is felt in music
This happens as if holding
onto each note of my own life
Feeling harmonic vibrations
in deep resonating moods
of cool evenings on the patio
Crackling embers at a campfire
Voices recite songs held as would
become a tradition of simpler times of
childhood friendships grew together
Held as if we could hold onto moments
of hopes, of loves, of dreams. The stars
seemed to fall only as we looked away
Gained as one humble guitar absorbs
a night sky of improvised melodies
Each harmony found by instinct
by touch, by invisible sight
**********************
Categories:
absorbs, analogy, appreciation, music,
Form:
Shape
She has eyes that have seen all the sky
a smile that is both knowing and shy
Her brow is humble and also proud
Expressions as soft as a shifting cloud.
She is tall and frail like a river reed
Up until now the forest has been her creed
And words that once flowed like a river stream
Now she must search for what they mean
Where once the forest taught her each simple rule
Now she is thrust to study in a Western school
So her body conveys her intentions devout
She stays rooted despite her desire for flight
She absorbs new knowledge like sunlight itself
Her tears are like rain on this hard gained wealth
This shy forest spirit all blossomed and grown
We know, in quiet moments, where her thoughts flown.
MID SUMMER 2018 PREMIERE,ANY FORM OR NONE,ANY THEME,UPTO A MAX OF 20 LINES
Contest Judged: 7/2/2018 8:30:00 AM
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Placed 9th.out of 10
Categories:
absorbs, absence, change, character, child,
Form:
Couplet
Today's changing times tell me
I need to become more contemporary.
Yet these old bones of mine
Would rather remain with the familiar.
Using archaic words gives me a sense
Of connecting with the ancients in
Knowing that the sensibilities of past
Generations will not be forgotten as their
Refined speech fades into oblivion.
Each growing generation wants to separate
With what they define as old-fashioned.
Still, my exuberance is shared in relating
Some of these words to my granddaughter's
Eager ears as she absorbs and mirrors me.
I delight in her attempts to pronounce their syllabic
Content with her sweet three year old tongue.
As my fingers dance upon my Kindle's glass screen
I realise I am becoming a link between the scribes
Of ancient generations and contemporaries computer
Capabilities, enabling old dogs to learn new tricks.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Categories:
absorbs, analogy, change, words,
Form:
Free verse
*LIFE, WHAT A RUSH*
Silence needs to be spoken and put out like a cigarette
The joy - the laughter - the expression found in a silhouette
Inhale the wholesomeness - Exhale the worthiness.
The soul- addicted to all the toxins this world contains
Life is like nicotine circulating throughout your veins
Wrath is a venom that absorbs all the fumes that flow
Trigger the mind and you'll see smoke blow
Hope entwined with clouds of wisdom
Tobacco strangling every inch of the nerve system
Vapors exceed emotions, love and veneration
Smog proceeds in slow motion
Puffing the beauty, by draining the heart and mind
Filtering all the nicotine bad breath left behind
~*~
Categories:
absorbs, happiness,
Form:
Couplet
... Summertime is growing weary.
Welcome to the autumn rain,
A new season taking over
Hydrating the earth again.
Arid land with celebration
Greedily absorbs each drip,
With the dry and dusty flora
Raising eager mouths to sip.
Running rivulets of water
Turning grasses back to green.
It is showering time for nature
Every plant a new washed sheen.
Summer lingering in spasms,
She must abdicate with grace.
This is changing of the seasons.
Fall is slipping into place.
Autumn dressed in leaves of color
Gold and scarlet, every tone.
Pre-apology for winter
With a splendor all her own.
Categories:
absorbs, natureautumn,
Form:
Quatrain
Summertime is growing weary.
Welcome to the autumn rain,
A new season taking over
Hydrating the earth again.
Arid land with celebration,
Greedily absorbs each drip,
With the dry and dusty flora,
Raising eager mouths to sip.
Running rivulets of water,
Turning grasses back to green.
It is showering time for nature
Every plant a new washed sheen.
Summer lingering in spasms,
She must abdicate with grace
This is changing of the seasons.
Fall is slipping into place.
Autumn dressed in leaves of color
Gold and scarlet, every tone.
Pre-apology for winter.
With a splendor all her own.
Joyce Johnson
15034 Calhoun Rd.
.
Categories:
absorbs, natureautumn,
Form:
Rhyme
At the end of the finishing line,
a deep grouchy voice thunders in my ears
and said, “Welcome home”.
I stepped on the green carpeted grass
and gazed at the slender bushy trees
waving peacefully in the hot summer breeze.
Happy squirrels scampering along
and merry birds singing happy songs.
But the moment swiftly fades and the
tormenting sound of fire trucks sirens chimed in
Trash less garage truck put on masquerading scenes
and empty school buses appear on every corner
performing a deceptive drama.
I gazed across the horizon and drowned out
the intimidating sounds in America’s streets.
Instantaneously a hand touched me
I reached out and held on
but surprisingly it disappears.
I held on tightly clinging to something that was not there.
Bequeathed by a mysterious will
my mind glides up a gigantic hill
shades of wonders, throngs of danger
could not stopped god's destined will.
With hand clasped and eyes closed
I whisper a prayer for my compelling soul.
I tried to detached but it kept coming back.
Something bigger than faith kept me going
more profound than hope itself
It absorbs my innate being
and laden me with mystical dreams.
Weighing heavily upon throbbing heart
It was strong enough to melt my spiritual thoughts.
Thousand of them stand in the midst of the crowd
but only one I could make out.
That one gambled with my heart
Stretched my bone and pull my marrow apart
unmindful of the wounds it caused
smiling at me without an infinite thought.
most powerful and most worthy
Yet strong enough to rip up my aching heart.
©2013 Christine Phillips
Categories:
absorbs, change, corruption, lost love,
Form:
Free verse