Best Accentuated Poems
Mindful
Startled out of nonchalant light,
Wakefulness stands at attention
Ignited flame from the eternal candle,
Energized vigil of the watchman
At the soul’s dawning daybreak
Tingling in the presence
Of every dappled infinite breath.
Rotating eye of illumination
Watchful, like a lighthouse beacon hovering,
Charts rocks and shoals through clear oceans insight,
Every nerve exposed in circumspection
Sometimes cringing in wary expose
Often basking in the light touch of satisfaction
As niggling prophecy finds confirmation in revelation
Throwing off the blinded penury of antonyms,
Embracing flashing synonyms of wisdom,
Tears of the heedful heart touch drab puzzles poverty
To polish with refinement’s shine burnished enthusiasm
For the incandescent dancing mindful
Then banish chary strobes of destitute indifference
Reaching beyond self-centered parentheses.
A lantern of thoughtfulness in floodlights
Of full harvest shared – no scattered crumbs of bread
Baked to stone in scathing flashes of the false
Eloquent vigilant splendor - never morning extinguished –
Torch to awaken lambent radiance of clarity’s joy,
Identity of the pilgrim heart, ejects sightless shades
Mindfulness blends the conscious scattered fragments
For Mosaics in clear lit portraits of charity's open hands
Throwing off the numb stalker branded carelessness
Born of intentional ignorance
Seeker’s actuated incentive to the attentive –
To hear! To see! To feel! To move in birth!
Action invigorated by accentuated humility of grace.
Date Written 6-10-21
Best #1 Poem - September 2021
1st place Trophy Win Poetry Contest - Mindful
Included in Poetry Soup Anthology - It's Still Poetry
Azure-accentuated ambiance awaits aspiring artists
Baby’s birth brings blessings, blowing boredom-blues
Cool calmness charms circumspect chefs to create cuisine cravings
Daybreak dos and don’ts discipline drivers from direction-dazzles
Enlightenment-exercise empowers engineers in their endeavors...
Fiery fluorescent fearlessness fuels firefighters’ faith-fortitude’s fervor
Glowing grace of God gears guardians for guiding governance
Hope highlights health-helpers’ handlings midst heightened heaviness
Illumined instructors inspire with their influence-iridescence
Justice-jubilation juxtaposed with jurisprudence-judgment joins jury...
Kaleidoscopic kindness-keys keep kinship’s knot kindling
Light’s luster leads liberation-lovers to lift the lamenting and lowly
Morning’s majestic magnificence moves mothers with mercies'* might
Nourishing nurses’ nurture and nature negates night’s negligence
Overwhelming opportunities open officials for output-optimization...
Peace-packed period pulls prayer-partners into Providence presence
Quality quotes quiet the querulous' qualms and quixotics' questions
Redolent reflections refocus reviewers against regretful reveries
Spiritual songs by soprano soloists shut silence-stillness
Triumphant thanksgiving tops tight timetable of tenacious teachers...
Ultimate urgency upholds undaunted umpires unto usefulness
Verses vanquish vanities vying against vision of the victors
Watchfulness warmth wakes the weary to welcome words of wisdom
X rays of ‘xpertise ‘xamination x-out ‘xpectations for a Xanadu
Yes-yells yearn for youth yielded yeah-yowls from yesterdays’ yets
Zion's zephyr zooms the zealously zestful to zenith of prize-zillions!!!
*Lamentations 3:22-23 It is of the LORD'S mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning:
great is thy faithfulness.
Abecedarian and alliteration forms
July 28, 2018
Edited on May 19, 2022
1st place, "ABCEDARIAN POEM" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger; judged on 6/4/2022.
spring walked the red carpet dressed in a suit
of blossoming colors that released a delicate inviting fragrance.
summer followed in a scorching hot vibrant green piece
accentuated in bright yellow gold.
autumn showed up in antique shades of reds and orange.
a striking shawl dropped beneath her shoulders.
winter was the last to arrive and appeared in a pure white evening gown.
each and every sequence unique and separately sewn in.
as each season complimented the red carpet
all life showed up to marvel.
Sponsor: Rick Parise
Contest Name: Any Poem 12- line MAX
After many cold winters, they met again,
Under the poplar tree on a starry moonlit night.
Though they had planned it over many a time,
It came to fruition after such long lapse of years.
Once they loved as no lovers could ever
In devotion, never had they faltered, never once failed,
But fate was sadly against this star-crossed pair,
And the young lovers had to part ways in pain.
Once again, the old classmates congregated,
Precisely at the same campus under the same tree
Though years have wrinkled its aged bark,
Still, it bears the indelible mark of a heart pierced by an arrow
To its cover they have been drawn once more
Not to renew their bond or weave fresh dreams,
But just to see and feel once and never more,
For a fleeting second to be in love’s prison bound.
An eloquent silence lingered deep.
The celestial bodies stood in breathless anticipation.
From the sepulchered past, dead worlds awoke.
They knew, separation had only accentuated their love.
Alas! Nothing could their severed lives entwine
Neither a kiss nor an embrace, the shattered years combine
Yet once more they put their arms around.
And for the last time they looked at each other.
Perhaps, they meant this as their last gesture of love,
Hoping its memory would fuel them when weary,
With eyes blurred and moistened with tears,
And billows of emotion rising sky high.
Fearing they would lose their composure,
Abruptly they turned their wan faces away.
Without another word of goodbye,
They walked away into the stillness of the night!
Drip
Drop
Water drop cascades under sapphire afterglow
Undoing 4 month deprivations
Muffled moans surround crimson fireplace
Crackling of fire
Thrusts of skin
Retinal vibrations shutter her pilot light deep within
She ascended to blue moon heights
As embers of his inferno
Bow in collective unison
Maddening grips
His fingertips draw triangular markings
Hugging curvature’s hip
Gentle bites on lower lip
He tackles her wanton hands against waterbed foundations
Her strengthened pupils reach out for 3rd eye clarity.
She asks for his dance under aggressive whisper
As he dips
Inside
Slow motion Salsa bends of her will
She crosses legs marking “X” against his spot
His relinquished hands
Slalom her vocal chords toward accentuated heavens
He exorcised her trembling inner thighs
From collapsing octaves
With eloquent, muted exhales
His hand reaches her cheek
His mouth descending towards her breast
“My lady, put that lighter down,
Let me be your cigarette.”
Drip
Drop
©11/19/2013
A Scorcher for Charlotte's contest. (Update: Tied for 2nd place. Nice!)
Thoughts On Infinity
Infinity comprises that endless empyrean reach of a
True continuous nature far beyond mankind’s ability
To truly comprehend and appreciate the sheer magic
Of the true enchantment and beauty of Almighty God’s
Kingdom of everlasting peace, love, and devotion.
Infinity is beyond all time, space, matter, and destination.
It is bounded by a mystical aura of a true divine cosmic
Perfection created by the heavenly design and intention
Of God Himself as He has made His revelatory overtures
To each of us for our eventual spiritual transformation.
Infinity oft bespeaks stark images of an endless cosmic vortex,
Punctuated by planets, stars, black holes, comets, and star dust;
When it realistically may be more of a perfected state of a true
Self-awareness and an accentuated level of consciousness that
Transcends mankind’s finite level of reality and understanding.
One day when each of us reach the end of our mortal coil on
This Earth, we shall, in turn, make that final storied leap to the
Heavens as our souls begin their cosmic ascension to God’s
Kingdom, and shall arrive at their ultimate state holy bliss into
The embrace and eternal love of Almighty God Himself.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
August 29, 2018 (Quintain)
Exuding purity, while honour bestowing
“Sampaguita” I am, my country’s national flower
Jasminum sambac --- such is my scientific name
beautifully functional with my fragrance
oozing through a branded perfume.
With my God-endowed economic potential
I’m sought to provide livelihood opportunities
since leis and garlands produced out of my being
help build-up entrepreneurs in our community
as well as growers, showing resilience and patience.
Modesty aside, I’m an inspiration to many artists:
poets exalt my sublime scent and accolade-granting petals
sculptors have me accentuated, like in my ceremonial torch feature
singers express serenade-lyrics, comparing me to a virgin
painters exhibit my adornment impact.
Symbolizing graceful simplicity and sacredness
my optimization is offered to the Almighty
Who blesses fully my sweet existence beyond survival bliss
as I yield to Him my all, while worshipping Him
with my biblical fellow flowers, rose of Sharon, and lily of the valleys.*
*Song of Solomon 2:1 I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys.
February 2, 2021
Chosen image: "If I were a flower..."
1st place, "If I Were A (Flower)? Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose; judged on 2/4/2021.
If these words were the last
ink I were about to bleed
they'd surround you and caress you
succumbing to your ever loving need
they'd dance in your fullness
flutter aloud in your grace
graze upon the cherished crimson
accentuating your precious face
the type, bold with cursive mixed in
would capitalize where all that beauty begins
each curve christened and every form traced
slowly oh so so slowly elegant words we'd embrace
beheld in the contextual lingering of your eyes
hearing accents accentuated with flowery reprise
sentences will serve with orgasmic exchange
as the pens erect position is neatly rearranged
endearing a climatic exclamation wound before hitting send
dipping into the well oiled well again and again
her finger to his lips,
the mood like an eclipse.
she’s set the bed so it won’t quake,
not yet.
her satin gown shifts slowly,
like accentuated snowflakes.
the moon illuminates the hallowed place.
she flickers with the candlelight,
bare feet on rose petals, her wrists
orchestrating the space above the clouds -
a tender dance, sans music.
she needs him to hear
the deafness of the night,
then she can make love to him,
as if he knew
a world where only lightning can succumb
to the pitter-patterless rain; noiseless crackle,
the ebony sky with plumes of ziggurats.
afterall, she’s wont to create fireworks
in the marriage bed; roman candles,
catherine wheels, head over heels
in love with him,
and he hears her.
she kisses his tears.
he hears her quiet heartbeat.
the ornate swan and royal blue,
her charms,
the twining of vanilla and rose...
the honeymooners in vociferous throes.
this night of nights — the chamber undulates
as her spouse embraces the storm.
he craves fidelity*, her infinity.
6/25/2020
Sensuality Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
*state of being faithful; accuracy of details
TO PRESERVE YOUR HEALTH
YOU MUST RESERVE YOUR DATE AND TIME
TO ENTER THE EMPIRE OF DEATH
“Arrête, c'est ici l'empire de la mort!"
Sign in Paris Catacombs
SKELETON OF PARIS
i dared each dank step
into the catacombs of Paris
thank the Lord
each step was not
creaking bone
i’d descend, of course
my choice, my feet
move into the nether
the deep dark secret tomb
a heavy door
surreality adorned
below the stinking streets
the foul history
of death
dredged up
from six feet deep
dusted and cleansed
the mandibles,
joints, heartless
bones
the boneyard quarry
accentuated death
having a new spin
on “putting our heads together,”
a collaboration of dust
the bleak hallway, I dare
not touch, i cross myself
ashes to ashes, dust to dust
attempting to stay in the center
of the narrow way
O the clink and clank
the synergy
that will fuse these bodies together
at the end of time
who will be the first to awaken?
will he or she faint away
as they discover
their dissected bones?
The artful remains of Robespierre, Lavoisier,
Danton - the dearly beheaded come to life,
guests of downtown…way downtown Paris.
Upwards of seven million squeezed together.
The leap of disease…the health crisis relieved.
1/13/2022
“With grandeur and beauty melded into rhyme, poetry is painting
that is felt than seen”
by Poet
From my window I lazily watch,
The phenomenal transition from dusk to night.
The evening’s brilliance giving way to twilight haze,
And the reddened sky turning sallow as a sick patient.
Darkness like downy feathers descending,
Wrapping the Earth in a gray woolen mantle.
Light and darkness embracing in a breathless kiss,
Like shocking colors blended on a wide canvas!
The night has now grown mysterious and enigmatic,
Putting the weary Nature into indolent repose.
Before my eyes, stretches a vast plane,
Whose boundaries have dimmed beyond all trace.
Here and there some monstrous shapes peek out.
I see the dark silhouettes of trees supine,
Brooding sage like, in the thickening gloom.
I watch the wide panorama lying still,
And the clear star-spangled sky above.
The moon has begun her stately round.
In flashing dress, she swaggers past the clouds,
As if patrolling to guard the sleeping Earth.
She has taken the place of the ousted king of the day.
A calming breeze caresses my face and ruffles my hair.
Though darkness envelops all around me,
I hear the whispered promise of a day that shall soon unfold.
As I hear this rhythm of Nature falling in my ears,
In every beat, I hear God’s kind of poetry recited.
Looking at this night, God’s artwork of sheer beauty,
I feel heaven has descended down to Earth.
Never is a moment more glorious than this,
When darkness has accentuated the heavenly lights!
Jan. 23. 2023
~ Placed Second~
Submitted forStrand Premiere. No.1196
. Poetry Contest
2022, Marathon Mile. 25. Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Mark Toney
By his hand was grown a forest
trees aligned as fence posts
trunks accentuated lavender and blue,
but not as a spruce
and purple strokes, not disguised as prose
in a woodland cut short in proportion
somewhat a distortion of towering height
over wildflowers it stood,
sans a canopy of leaves
for the profusion of those umbrellas
would've barred sunlight from the copse.
Botanicals, merely painted as smears
A scene filling my senses
with thoughts of Spring... except
to mourn for branchless trees
barren to give motherly birth
and nurture buds as their worth.
Reflections on canvas of golden blossoms,
topaz gems and white faceted diamonds
windswept by Mariah's winds
blowing North and South
then, changing her mind... East and West
temperament is what she does best.
An undergrowth of green but
I don't find it serene
as side by side two plod
through stems and grasses
feet tangled in masses of vines
Was that a wise decision?
With derision, I wonder...
if the brush strokes had a purpose
a plan for the man to be more relevant,
standing tall, garbed in black, high-top hat
while barely visible, the fem
camouflaged in Van Gogh's jungle.
Whether facing front to back,
one coming or the other going
there's no starry night to be found
That would be profound
even to an eye that's unappreciative of art
when part of the scene
has no semblance of a sky.
I felt her before I saw her
She had the flashiest most beautiful red-blue hair
A blue blood, naturally
Her lips were painted a luscious cherry red
Redder than the advertisement girls of the fifties
Was I dreaming? I looked at my assistant.
We sent the other models home.
We knew we had found our it girl
She was wearing a lacy top that accentuated her bosom.
And what a bosom it was.
Her hair dropped over one eye, but we could see her look.
She smoldered.
She was standing next to an oak tree that felt her too.
The leaves on the tree immediately transmogrified from brown to red.
She was magnificent, and we were grateful to find her.
Her hourglass figure I will never forget, and neither will my assistant.
We speak of the mysterious woman often.
She vanished right after we took the photos.
Only one turned out, but it was enough.
Don Coto's..
face smiles no more
Only in memory
Paving the way for others
with dreams and aspirations
Arriving at these shores
To prosper achieving those dreams
And hopes that our forefather set
So many years ago while the moon
Looked on :-) tides rolling in and out
like clock work fish dancing to the
Florescent harmony of the stillness
The trip took many months
With many risks,so coming to this point
This time this place..I think about
Don Coto's flag ship la 'Cocora'
Now a memory lingering on and on
She was sold for scrap years before
We now go sailing on planes with wings
Like the beautiful birds seen flying high
Driving Upwards by the warm thermals
Sailing past Ponce Deleon and old San Juan
Reminiscing through my past,leaving behind
Our companions never to be seen again
The fisherman of el Farro and Playa Santa
Putting our noses against the window
Of This flying machine
To see this brand-new world in its grandeur
I Dios mio,oh my god
a Cold blustery morning it was
We left the balmy Tradewinds in morning
As we exit the this flying Machine
And enter a new world
White flakes racing from out of nowhere
Hearing my uncle Pedro ,watch your step
Watch your step stopping every every few feet
Allowing the fluffs of white to enter my mouth
Flicking my tongue like el Coqui
In between chattering teeth
but a thought comes to mind
A sadness,accentuated by a harsh reality
A new way of life A new language
A brand new shiny culture
Our old home left behind and now a new land
Called Los Estados Unidos
The United States
mi Nuevo Mundo
Our new world
bless us all...
On the way to Parkview hospital,
while driving along the Pacific rim,
under a thick blanket of fog,
our car pushed hard against a northeast wind
A winding road through muddy hills
The highway strewn with mud and soggy leaves
from patches of leaning eucalyptus
Wild scatterings of tall and ancient trees
Around each curve a reddish glare of headlights,
forked, and slashed their garish designs
upon your father's anxious face,
I took deep breaths and counted time
Lights accentuated the grimace of his angst
He kept silent, in such firm distraction,
and curiously seeing his face light up in the dark,
eased the grimace of my own contractions
Silhouettes of signs and trees
flashing by in lightning's fury
Windshield wipers keeping rhythm
indicating "hurry!....hurry!"
Our new found light showed us where to turn
and soon we curved around the bay,
the winding road led where we learned
young confidence... can show the way
You found your way into our arms
to a place that owned our hearts
You wrapped us with a cord of charms
and changed to light, a night so dark
When morning came to take you home
The sun broke through across the land
And new adventures waited then
A brand new winding road began
_____________________________________________________
For Kelly Deschler's Contest: "Just Down The Road"