Best Accompanies Poems
Lost in your elegance,
if only time could stand still
to capture this memory eternally.
Reflection of the moon shimmers
upon tranquil waters
in congregation with the stars,
as we sail in composed serenity.
Only the echoes of night insects
and illumination of fire flies
distract me from
your mellifluous voice, which
accompanies your radiant smile.
To describe your divine beauty
is ineffable as I fall into limerence.
Your ethereal eyes guide me closer,
all resistance is futile,
intoxicated by your natural allurement.
My heart feels an epiphany
with the revelation of true love.
As our lips touch sensually
my eyes are in a state of phosphenes,
now oblivious to my surroundings.
In hope this feeling is not ephemeral,
my whole being is enticed by the desire
to remain eternally in this moment.
Silent One
Originally written 7 November 2015.
Edited 26 May 2018
Limerence (also infatuated love) is a state of mind which results from a
romantic attraction to another person typically including compulsive thoughts
and fantasies and a desire to form or maintain a relationship and have one's
feelings reciprocated.
Categories:
accompanies, desire, love, romance,
Form:
Free verse
I am to him a Stradivarius, a treasured violin
His bow expertly caresses my supple strings
My body moans when tucked beneath his chin
Revving to his rhythmic pulse, my heart sings
I am the delicate ivory he strokes on his keyboard
his adventurous fingers roam over me in staccato
Those romantic interludes he's adeptly scored
accompanies intimacy to the point of crescendo
I am the mouthpiece on his golden saxophone
Our blues brings about passion and lustful desire
From a distance I hear the pitch of a lone trombone
Emotions build with the heat of a roaring wildfire
Across the well worn bridge of his idle acoustic guitar
I yearn for the virtuoso's touch to strum my chords
But there's no harmony, although we've come so far
No gliding glissandos found at the tips of drawn swords
Now he plays mournful melodies on a native Hopi flute
Reflecting our lives in every wistful and somber note
We're both lost, wandering like phantoms in pursuit
of lost love. We're adrift without oars or sail for our boat
With each wave a tear falls as I lay sheltered in the bow
He sits astern listening to music whistled by the wind
staring at the far horizon with worry etched on his brow
Is this, I wonder, punishment for those who have sinned
Categories:
accompanies, lost love, passion,
Form:
Rhyme
I dream of a place where dancers embrace,
Waltzing together incipient lights,
Music transposed echoed heavenly grace,
Accompanies first harmonious nights;
I dream of lilacs and lavender mist,
Adrift susurrus shoreline’s infinite breeze,
Flowing compassion through time reminisced,
That journeys taken be traveled with ease:
I dream of a whisper remembered well,
Spoken in honeydew’s gentle caress,
Promising lovers when broken-hearts swell,
Friendship would mean there’s always forgiveness.
I dream of a dream where happiness numbs,
That dreams of a place where yesterday comes.
Categories:
accompanies, lost love,
Form:
Sonnet
“Fear not the Grim Reaper. Death is an angel that accompanies good people to their home of everlasting joy.” by author
Death is not a spectre that wields a scythe.
The minute we’re born, we wend our way to it.
Neither is our Heavenly Creator but a myth.
Even if you breathe your last mortal breath,
a home like no other waits beyond the veil.
If life seems so hard that you want to scream,
there is no need against God to rail.
Life is but an eye blink in His grand scheme.
If you are kind and faithful, blessed in death you’ll be.
Joy, light, and love will be yours eternally.
Categories:
accompanies, death,
Form:
Grook
Above all else
A daughter
wants to be seen……by her mother
There are small big things
That are said
That are done
Those disapproving glances
Tiny big criticisms
The imperceptible monumental moments
The shame that accompanies disappointment
The knowing she can’t meet expectations
Still she desperately tries
All the while
a part of her rebels
needing to find herself
She needs to see herself
even when she feels unseen
Above all else
A mother
wants the best…..for her daughter
She sacrifices
EVERYTHING
Including herself
Sometimes even the relationship
Dreams are powerful destructive things
They are forces of nature
not easily wielded
Pushing pulling
Forks in the road
Doors to open
Potential to achieve
Pitfalls to avoid
Mothers want the best
They stand as guardians
of both the past and the future
Those things they have lost
Those things they hope for
They sometimes miss the present
They cannot see the paper cut wounds they inflict
Mothers
Daughters
Above all
they know each other
In the end they have a way of seeing
Children of children
Hope from hope
Do overs
Softened voices
Glimpses
Stories told around dinner tables
Laughter
Tears
Anger and joy
The act of seeing and being seen,
it takes several lifetimes being joined together.
Categories:
accompanies, anxiety, birth, child, courage,
Form:
Free verse
I walk an already trodden path...
Uncertain, of future lives that lie ahead
But, in faith I close these earthly Ojibwa eyes
In trill, thus, I hear the old ways in your presence amidst Chinook winds
As harmonic they play across the plains, from sacred astral pipes
Mimicking cricket songs that echo abstract out of the season's last autumn mist
I also hear your fifes in the rustle of the leaves, rising into writhe
And almost see your spirit aura as it accompanies the Algonquian breeze
Ancient ghost of proud, but now lost upon a dying nation tribe
Your music from beyond is narrations of a mystical language nature speaks
Sweeping thrush calls, chirps through weeping willow weeps,
Unto past September sounds, beating down on war drum clouds, of thundering maelstrom claps
And babbling brooks going on and on until narrowing creaky creeks
Alas, whooper wills warning and morning loons mourning, hidden amidst the swaying grass
When I see you, I imagine spectral legends majestic high across horizon's sky
Snowy silhouettes in headdress, drifting in flowing rainbow crowns
And with the night, I see you in my mind dance as the "Will-Ó-the-wisp" just might
Then, my body shivers from the distance, where your flute imitates the cry of the lone coyote's sound
As for all of your Mishomis (grandfather) traditions, I accept there is a greater essence
Kindred I am, son to your spirit and without partition from an Ojibwa eye
And I stand here staunch in cattail marshes, pondering my place in ancestral questions
Now, your answers again begin to play upon the wind, but this time traveling through the November... Whispers on needles of the pine
I walk an already trodden path...
But, each new step before me keeps this culture alive...
Written in honor of my Chippewa family ©2012 Michael G. Smith
Categories:
accompanies, native american, autumn,
Form:
Ode
I have loved him since I was young.
Through every cloud, he rose the sun.
His work was honest – one-on-one with land.
I loved this farmer and his callused hands!
Safe, strong arms would lift me to sit upon his tractor.
Picture boy and Grandpa - no memory could be happier.
Today, I took the inherited watch from my mantle.
Now the cherished timepiece accompanies my flight,
perhaps lending faith to my emotional plight.
Precious ticking in my pocket comforts my destination;
brings forth his presence and I will not try to stop it
for the watch soothes my driving desperation.
Steering, my feelings begin actively conceiving
wings in golden display soaring my car this day
thru prayer-filled air to timely see me there.
So many endless miles of thunder under my wheels.
Thoughts ever somber tumble various appeals.
I gasp down feelings he may leave before I show.
He stays in my heart’s eye while I consume highway
on burning, dedicated tires determined to fly
'cause Grandma phoned to say, Grandpa would soon die.
Categories:
accompanies, death, devotion, grandfather,
Form:
Rhyme
Walking through gardens
Feeling your presence beside me
Strangers passing by, lost in the darkness
I see the reflection of the city lights in your eyes like stars so near
The icy july wind carries your perfume to me
Your voice echoes through the winter air and your smile, my God your smile...
My hands are cold but i am calm, serene and happy
Where are we going?
Someone once told me that what matters is the journey not the destination
I forget the past, don´t worry about the future, only the present matters
And gradually the twilight turns into night
I look at the sky and I find the moon smiling timidly starting its journey
I want to touch, surround you and drown in your hair
But I do nothing, afraid of ruining everything
Strange... Nothing and Everything
All the while the sound of waves crashing on the sand accompanies us
A familiar sound to me, after all this is my city
The surprise hits me for I am not blind to the world, on the contrary
Everything looks sharper, brighter
And time has not stopped as the old love poems tell us
It goes faster, flies.
My thoughts are clear despite your intoxicating presence
I know I have only a fraction of the time I would like to live beside you
I know that your time here will be as short as a shooting star in the purple sky
And I also know that you will take a piece of me away
That might be returned to me one day or lost forever
Who knows about these things?
But I´m not afraid
I would do it all again
Because you are worth it.
Categories:
accompanies, july,
Form:
Free verse
Self-harming's a cry for help,
from a pit of depression.
Where, like a ghost, happiness,
is scary and elusive.
Those who are cutting reject
trite platitudes of pity.
For the pain they feel has been
festering in them since birth.
Shards of insanity cut
into insignificance.
And reality adapts
to abject low self-esteem.
Sparked by emotional needs,
panic ignites twisted nerves.
And only cutting can dull
anxiety's sharpened edge.
The sound of your beating heart
increases as steel cuts flesh.
And yet, for a chance to feel,
fear slips into submission.
Relief accompanies the
flow of blood fleeing your veins.
And you feel alive inside;
as cutting numbs greater pains.
Categories:
accompanies, august, body, emotions, feelings,
Form:
Blank verse
Gestures beckon gestures,
Speech caresses silence,
Laughter accompanies the seductive sways of smiles,
The beautiful bliss of our starry eyes gone astray;
Then caught and locked in a stir of longing for each other.
None, but a tale of fantasy,
Re-enacting the dé·jà vu of a dream.
A dream; an all-discerning vision
Relentlessly unfolding a heart-stricken revelation.
An exposition of the future’s past.
Relishing; this past, indeed. In a one we go a-dancing;
Yet still, in exchange of smothering kisses, beneath the cover of darkness
With flames of a soaring passion burning; our bonded souls to sooth
Urging the sweet cravings of yearning desires, us to consume
In our intoxicating state of peaked pleasure,
In our hypnotizing exile of uncontrollable ecstasy.
How soon this liquor of love runs out
Pour me another glass, please……
A toast, in honor of our non-existing love
Cheers!!
Categories:
accompanies, fantasy, lost love, love,
Form:
Free verse
When guilt
collides with my pleasure
and pain is too hard to measure
Escape is the elastic tether
that accompanies
my sensual physical bender
Tock tick tock
my emotional drop
for a second
hands feel time stop
Flipping out
as I body flop
liking being on the bottom
her bouncing on top
surrounding my need
with her hunger spot
Brown eyes
Black hair
I love touching her everywhere
especially there
I enjoy drowning
while being fully aware
My eyes reveal my selfish
while in that moment I don’t care
It feels like my sad is no longer there
as at her beauty I ravenously stare
She helps me
feed my need
as I release my seed
In that moment
a feeling of ecstasy
my illusion of being freed
I catch my breath
feeling my thoughts begin to bleed.
It seems even my sweetie
can’t unearth this weed.
Deep down I know
what I truly need.
A small note to explain the last line. During times of stress I am inclined to use physical aspects of our relationship to help silence my inner turmoil. At those times I would do better to look to God to calm my spirit. The physical can only temporarily satiate me.
Categories:
accompanies, angst, anxiety, depression, lust,
Form:
Monorhyme
The grass is always greener
So the saying goes
Disillusioned ,unhappy, restless
Tis where the mind flows
Changes are a positive
A brighter shade of green
Moving forward for betterment
Living , fulfilling ones dream
Though one must always be mindful
In seeking the greener side
It is the “SAME YOU” that accompanies you
Let that be your guide!
Categories:
accompanies, change,
Form:
Rhyme
Dying on the inside,
withered tears falling on fallow hope
Bittersweet memories
rooted in moist pain of barren joy
Too many loving words left unsaid,
drowning silence
suffocates every wet pillow thought
Echoes of emptiness
from a weak heartbeat half-dead
Lonely fetal prone vibration
is the womb resonance of separation
Premature parting
births an untimely mute scream
Not enough loving words heard,
forgiveness buried
under a flatline document signed
Waning pulse vibration
accompanies the sunset stroke
of stillborn liberation
Ill-fated past sorrow
is the weeping willow delivery repose
of a dead tomorrow
Bereaved eyes misty blind
search for the halo light of balm divination
Revived resonant prism of being,
trying to find a new life meaning,
now emerging from the womb of separation
Categories:
accompanies, allusion, loneliness, loss, sad
Form:
Dramatic Verse
(writing for the voice of my son who has terminal illness)
Reality is searingly intimate. But they say anguish,
woes and sadness are emotions best shared.
I am not saying I enjoy lamenting on them or heaping
tribulations on others if I can manage these on my own
with grace, tranquility and acceptance.
Scouring out the dregs of my past is a notion
unlike exploring uncharted territory, but like pain,
I want to stare at it in the eye, no flinching.
Yet I ask, when did all go wrong; when did the roads
become forks and twists, and steep cliffs.
But I could then peer on tiptoes over the edge, unafraid
to take leaps of faith, always landing on my feet upright.
When did the moment of divergence start?
Life then made sense. Challenges I met with daring
and a tenacity to execute and perform to perfection.
There was relevance in chumming the waters,
cloaking them with the grace and finesse
that accompanies experience and excellence.
Work was not a drag - I thrived in the eye of storms.
Memories of the past are now more vivid than images of the present -
I sense that everything seems to pause in a single still moment.
Riding on motorcycles like the devil was on my tail,
leading my co-riders zigzagging on dangerous trails -
the idea of death was a vagrant who wanders another street.
How I wish time is fungible - what I would give to be where I was,
how I was, had been, always there, complete and fulfilled -
satisfying needs, goals, ambitions - been there, done that
is not my cliche.
My heart is a stuck sled in the middle of a sand dune.
Although I am in a world of stasis, expecting nothing,
I realize I have this clarity of thought and unclouded focus
to shed fear and panic as I stare death in the eye,
so I can leave this world on my own terms.
I want to dodge self-pity, dwell on the serenity of acceptance.
There is an ethereal glow in the night sky -
it should be an insanely beautiful vista out there beyond life.
@jjote031024
Categories:
accompanies, death,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
It has always been the same thing.
The same kind.
For many years now,
I have been dreaming in rhymes
And by morning,
Half of it might have been forgotten.
Like I left them on the pillow.
So what accompanies me in the day are fragments
And by night when I lay my dizzy head
And close my sleepy eyes,
It rushes back like a raging flood
Categories:
accompanies, life,
Form:
Free verse