Best Analogy Poems
In the middle of winter
within misty moors,
lies a melancholic meadow.
Up above grey skies foretell
perturbed crows to seek shelter.
Down below,
an isolated tree - naked and fatigued;
Listens in silence.
Her soul is wounded,
but you do not see her blood.
Defiant against dysfunctional adversity,
her roots are stronger than an anchor.
Diversifying in deep directions,
kissing the mouth of the Earth.
Her torso may seem tall and mighty,
but her appearance deceives.
Sins of mankind have exposed her sap,
as bark beetles crumble the surface.
Forceful winds and bullet rain blasts
against her weary teary face.
Her tame frame trembles,
as naked broken branches are
blown away by brutal gusts.
It is just another battle for life,
as birds leave her behind - suffocating.
Raindrops stream down her body,
creating puddles of sadness,
soaking deep into her roots.
In the middle of winter
within misty moors,
lies a melancholic meadow;
where a tree yearns for Spring.
To bloom prosperously
and to bathe in sunshine -
so departed birds return.
Silent One
20 February 2018
CAMPFIRE
I thirst to taste your solid wood stare
I see you and no one else
Nestling under the stars
Hungry for each others ears
Chasing every comet across the sky
Fierce when it comes to standing tall
Desires releas screams from the mundane night
Running naked throughout the world
Firewood burning the depth of our soul
Dancing in a path we put mortals to shame
A swarm of gray shade arousing the night
Secret moans before, morning dew hit sunrise
Prowling in circles
Feeling each others instinctive curiosity
Surrender to the ashes of our hide
Passion lost within a dream-catchers web.
A pack of thieves we long to be
Weaving into an echoless growl
No one dares to separate the pack we create
A stare of solid wood I hunger to taste.
Night after night, IN THE MOOD ~always
Hate is an unnecessary need
in the book of necessities.
Love is the key component
within the book of obsessities.
Lust is an unfaithful guide
misguiding towards fake perceptions.
Sincere love is the pioneer
in overcoming deceptions.
Love is that perfect song,
which reminds you of mother's lullabies.
The aroma of an elegant rose,
attracting butterflies.
Picturesque horizons staining the sky,
as birds admire in full flight.
Moon kissing her loyal stars
as curtains are drawn for the night.
An innocent child's laughter
that brings tranquillity to the heart.
A baby's first giggle,
a reminder of God's beautiful art.
Beloveds crossing upon love's path,
as each route leads to their fate.
Tingle of that first kiss,
finally holding hands with your soul mate.
I'm guilty, that's my confession,
LOVE is my only obsession.
Silent One
19 July 2017
Example for obsessions contest
We all arrive alone naked and vulnerable,
crying our eyes out, not knowing -
this is the first day of the rest of our life.
I guess the saddest thing in life is we have to grow up.
As children we live in a bubble,
gazing at lost stars - wondering which one is ours.
Not realising the impact of our childhood,
until we are adults and it is too late.
We jump in puddles, laughing at splashing sounds,
some even learn to place their coats over them.
Some swim within shark infested waters,
but only a few learn how to build bridges over them.
I have embraced the power of silence,
but some have succumb to it.
I guess it is all about the quality of it,
especially for those who struggle to listen.
There has been many a rose that has bloomed,
but every single one crumbled into dust.
Even the one whose thorns pierced lacerations
through hearts of stone - yet the heart healed.
Many birds arrived echoing sweet symphonies,
yet there have been those that flew away in silence.
Especially the silent nightingale who sat in solitude,
whose lyrics my heart still yearns to feel.
I've seen many a ship arrive at my shore,
but each one unloaded and sailed away.
It was me who removed their anchor
and smiled as they sailed into the distance.
As tumours poison our existence - I ponder;
will the human race survive earth's demise?
When death arrives we all leave alone empty handed,
not knowing that was the last day of our life.
I recall Freddie Mercury's famous lyrics...
Who wants to live forever.... Anyway.
Silent One
Simple Musings
19 June 2018
ONE WORD~
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis,
Running through my mind,
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis,
Running through my veins,
A silica odor, dust walks through a fresh desert night
Cool air beneath and above the sea
A warm furnace smell, I don’t understand
Intricate to rise and receive without knowing
Up ahead in a virtue distance
A mysterious poisonous effluvium light-
My face feels like a leaf'
My sun holds up its own pendulum rods
Inflammation comes and settles in for the night,
There it stands in a pertinacious manner, with quality
I resurrect this air created from madness, all over again
Twilight, rain stranger than strange
Visions, pursue my path into an infested dark pasture
"From the red Heaven, I fell into the waters of a cobalt Hell"
Perhaps this venerable moment will pass slower than slow
PERHAPS NOT!
If I accept and then decline
Would this balance the precocious state I live in?
How about when wrong directions follow my promiscuous ways
Is my conglomeration of ideas, no longer safe?
When I no longer value the values of the young
Will I sleep at the mercy of his ancient heart
They're the voices give and take from our health
Today, those soft, perfect eyes are calling from far away,
Ashes high, vapors and infection welding me
The bright skies swallow every thin silver line,
Where the clouds sit somehow~ in bacteria
UNITY!
UNITY! Like a common curse
Always, wanting more than love can touch
We are living it up with no alibis!
A way to be and not to BE!
The champagne leaves their cup
Awaken in a life, disturbed ~ NOW INTERRUPT!
Only in this world, lava will reach her lips
Prisoners and doers;
All night…. Too late for a treatment
Lungs, decaying, evil rats
Direction, affection, ending all the inhalation
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis,
Running through my lungs,
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis,
Flat-lined my life ____/\ /\___ ___/\______/\___ _______________
By: PD
Placid rain gently kisses unblemished windows
as leaves fall in an Autumn breeze.
In the distance cinereal clouds congregate,
converging upon the city's royal citadel.
Oblivious to the storm, adrift in cultural fiction
she sits immersed from the ambience
of the scent of new leaves.
Hypnotised - tranquil words enchant her mind,
as her eyes nonchalantly embrace each paragraph.
Her heart is at peace, relating to each character,
some that make her smile - others that displease her.
Jealous winds blow abundant rain,
like bullets shooting against her window.
Attempting to distract from her infatuation,
but her spirit is an unconquerable fortress.
The world is forgotten to her,
as her soul performs the role
of her favourite character.
Observing to learn through them,
so she can learn about her self.
The final page,
the last sentence,
leads to watery eyes.
For the peace and beauty
she experiences in books,
she does not find in life.
Simple Musings
Silent One
5 October 2017
I cannot compete with something as painstakingly glorious as you
Envy is but a humbling tumble down a steep, rocky hill
I am crushed in your fits of glory—your screaming for passion
My approaches are absolutely wrong
Therefore my communication is a weak, ransomed victim
Your poison arrow frog skin rubs against my exposed body
I happily accept my fate
For your beauty surpasses the ephemeral pain of the infectious reign
My erroneous, inevitable downfall
I hold you up—I feel the need to keep you tall!
Michael the Archangel did not insult you once, Lucifer
How then will I?
How can I possibly be higher than you?-
Why would I want to?
I admire your freedom
I simply disregard your macrodomes of ever-worshiped flaw
If I could allow myself, I would share in your glory
Only to add to it further
But as I am poisoned with the truth
I can only be your grounded pedestal
And though you flee from humility in its wake upon my brow
I realize everyday you are living for the grounded now
And I merely look to the unknown future
A place I dread where you unwillingly hold me up
Bonded in the ground with Death and Hades
You become my pedestal, and the worms my vineyard
My parasitic feet seer your glory
I am ever so sorry
I never wanted this renown
There was a time I do recall
When you overtook me in my sleep
I cried aloud in helpless acceptance
But soon I was forced in a croak of laughter
I felt your bitter poison
I felt pride at last
I thank you for it
I thank you for showing me
What I will never be
Dear Lucifer,
Provoke me no longer to praise your eternal existence
Generations of Evening take a hold of me now
And the fruit must be shared
I am nature,
soul of a mountain,
buried under
a billion snowflakes.
I float like butterflies,
from petal to petal.
As cinereal clouds clear,
under a glistening sunrise,
I illuminate like a lustrous rainbow -
I am daylight.
I am a falling leaf,
from the tallest tree.
I am gravity,
can you feel me?
Can you hear the air you breathe?
I am oxygen.
I am the moon,
followed by a galaxy of stars,
I am the universe,
lights that sparkle at night.
I am Mona Lisa's smile,
a photograph from the past,
an unread book,
a guitar without strings,
a bird without a song,
a blank song sheet -
I am regret.
I am darkness,
a misplaced muse,
the pause between words,
the last kiss goodbye,
the distance, the hunger -
I am suppressed emotions.
You see me in blood and tears.
I have no echo.
You can only hear me,
when you care to listen.
When we were young we loved our fairy tales
A frog could be a prince with just one kiss
Each cloud, a boat where dreamers could set sail
Imagination was the great abyss
Too soon we grew and lost our innocence
Found out that swords are never pulled from stones
That dreams come true but only with expense
And happy ever after's come and gone
Yet some of us still wish upon a star
Believe that rainbows come with pots of gold
Reality is life for most comes hard
And love like water runs both hot and cold
Like you I wish that fairy tales came true
But grown ups know they very seldom do
by Daniel Turner
Vivid flashbacks from bloodshed battles
his soul still ravaged by devious dictators,
cries from fallen comrades still echo in his mind,
but he continues to walk upon a path of pandemonium.
Reluctantly he ventures forward with
vengeance portrayed through embers
engulfed within his frenzied eyes -
reflecting his mother's irreversible tears.
He is no mercenary nor a moneymaker,
just a repentant drifter, preparing for bedlam.
His purpose in sight, he closes his eyes,
but struggles to erase his thoughts,
as the sins of his ancestry inflict his mind.
Angels attempt to light his path with harmonic chords,
but demons cause havoc strumming broken strings.
Entering the kingdom of dry fountains,
where God has no influence,
he is afraid to inhale its corrupt pollutant air.
Charcoal clouds rumble,
before horizons shed unwelcome tears.
Before him platinum priests preach,
as court jesters dance with sly grins,
hiding metaphorical daggers behind their backs.
To his right overfull hospitals have no beds,
as penniless patients plead to be cured.
To his left the self proclaimed vain king
sits on his cardboard throne,
throwing dollars into a blazing fire place.
To his side his tyrannical hypocritical queen
hides behind her simulated smile,
oblivious to her narcissistic prince's incest desires
towards her clueless imbecilic princess.
It's an endless loop of greed cultivating corrupt seed,
which continues to breed nefarious creed.
Miserable masses attempt to break free,
but their liberation is dissected by cretinous henchmen.
In the marketplace of Machiavellian thieves,
merchant pawns auction fragmented dreams.
Sold to the biggest idiot!
His eyes full of disbelief, now rage with anarchy!
Intoxicated knights raise their half empty glasses,
as he calmly walks into this man made sand castle.
Gifts the cunning conniving cook some cyanide,
which he empties into his delectable broth.
Both watch as the elevated ones savour it like dogs,
perishing dramatically to their deserved downfall.
Beyond his childhood playground,
now with rusty swings and slides,
he places a crimson rose upon his mother's grave,
kissing her untouched headstone.
Expressionless he walks into the distance,
as storms wash away weak foundations.
Silent One
25 July 2018
As dusk's misty tones awake from silence,
darkness fades, as birds gather to rejoice.
A beautiful reminder of patience,
their sweet melodies give nature her voice.
Darkness fades, as birds gather to rejoice,
basking in the glory of a new dawn.
Their sweet melodies give nature her voice,
as they parade, dancing upon lush lawn.
Basking in the glory of a new dawn,
crystal clear skies sparkle like sapphire gems.
As they parade, dancing upon lush lawn,
sweet pea stretches its tender verdant stems.
Crystal clear skies sparkle like sapphire gems.
Sun spreads his warmth in ways only he knows.
Sweet pea stretches its tender verdant stems -
beside saffron crocus and scarlet rose.
Sun spreads his warmth in ways only he knows.
Bluebells and ivory lilies enchant -
beside saffron crocus and scarlet rose,
blossoming like a painting by Rembrandt.
Bluebells and ivory lilies enchant.
Plethora of petals with vibrant hues,
blossoming like a painting by Rembrandt -
inspiring a poet's slumbering muse.
Plethora of petals with vibrant hues,
producing sweet nectar for bumble bees.
Inspiring a poet's slumbering muse,
as butterflies kiss cherry blossom trees.
Producing sweet nectar for bumble bees,
the flower garden is heaven on Earth.
As butterflies kiss cherry blossom trees,
poet's pen adorns nature for her worth.
The flower garden is heaven on Earth.
A beautiful reminder of patience.
Poet's pen adorns nature for her worth,
as dusk's misty tones awake from silence.
I have not done a pantoum for such a long time. Have seen a lot being written recently.
This pantoum has a 10 syllable count and rhyme.
I always struggle to keep my pantoums short.
Pondering prophetic legacies of timeless lovers,
my heart yearned for a province lavished with perennial passion.
Searching for an enchanted perfect petal,
I wandered within the flower garden of infatuation.
Marigolds shone, smiling among mellow yellow roses,
but their fair friendly fragrance could not quench my thirst.
In the distance, a silhouette of the rarest red rose beamed,
her dulcet aromatic ambience summoned my soul closer.
Upon the first sight of my beloved's subtle innocent eyes,
my mind drifted to a place where time did not exist.
Without a word, her radiance illuminated my whole existence,
like a butterfly admiring pulchritudinous petals - it was pure paradise.
Hand in hand we strolled embarking upon the realms of infinite love,
composing our own idyllic legacy of immortal poetic lyrics.
Simple Musings
Silent One
3 July 2018
There is a part of me missing
There is a part of me that shall never be
Inside of this dark sad brooding mind
Is the painter who will never see
So I take my pen, and vaso of wine
I contemplate
I get lost in the drunkenness of time
Stooped over my own memories on a sour palette
I had the brushes staring at the naked breast
My paints were frozen, at such beauties unrest
Erect and tall, at her feet I did fall
The blind painter, who lost it all
So now you see I am a poet of some seedy sort
Painting Braille, is poetry of my last resort
I write down words with the flourish of my pen
The Braille poet, cause painting I could not fend
I take words and wish them bountiful explosive colors
If only I had talent, a painter and not a story teller
So for me, in pain and clad in the cloth of sadness
I write words, for this painter has only Braille
I have no painting brushes
I possess no smile, wandering along on wistful miles
Of blindness, blowing in the winds of the frail
No map for the future, and yet I set sail
Hoping my words one day will be seen
By an artist who paints the soul and the serene
She takes my blindness and paints boldly my dreams
Taking my words, from Braille to bright pastel creams
Shackles of cynicism have displaced your heart,
the love that once transcended time is no more.
No wordsmith can bring beauty to an invisible emotion,
lost in translation to an ignorant uncultured mind.
As you searched for a definition of the tangible,
intangible feelings were ignored, even with eyes shut.
Funny, how three words cause a chemical imbalance,
but the euphoria is short lived when ego takes hold.
Promises to comfort, wipe away tears, anguish and pain,
come with no guarantee of satisfaction - no refund for regret.
Love does not say when the fire is burning to wage war,
it provides an opportunity to nourish peace and harmony.
Love does not say to be bitter and live with a grudge,
it asks for you to forgive, not to antagonise another's soul.
In a world lost to materialistic commercialism,
the skeptic doubts like a pessimistic detractor.
Love is not like money, that must be reciprocated with interest,
it is simply an undetectable phenomenon that graces us all.
To some a second hand emotion, but the language of love
still remains the most powerful feeling known to humanity.
One tongue that has no religion, race nor geographical boundary,
which only fails to blossom when limits are implanted.
Silent One
Written 28 February 2016
Re posted 30 May 2018
Her smiles of valor encase her agony--
her fiery scars pound against her sanity
struggling in twisted ropes of silent screams.
A wounded Athena, she is a woman in chains
staring at her shattered reflections.
Her shades of red, they haven't seen--
tender shrieks buried under forced arms,
blurred visions of screaming tyranny.
A trampled magnolia, she is a woman in chains
rotting in her Carmen of morose ember.
Oh woman! You embrace scars with dignity,
ethereal flow of progeny in your hands,
your banished desires in shriveled ages
survive in spiral cobwebs of festered veins.
Her miserable existence in labyrinths--
she simmers courage in dried paranoia,
a streak of red blood, no longer she'd fear.
A goddess flickering amber lamps of hope
her essence flows through mankind.
Oh woman! Feel the celestial powers
preserved in your gracious bosom,
your afflicted pain nurtures patience
strong enough to bend heavenly tides.
A wounded Athena, a trampled magnolia
A rotting Carmen, a goddess she is..
The woman in chains pours forgiveness
filling oceans from azure exuberance,
her selfless heart of mellowed love
permeates Satan's abode with virtue.
The woman in chains wears sacrifice,
her gossamer veil embraces men's follies,
she carries the elixir of compassion,
ripples of hopes for scarred souls.
Oh woman! They oppress you in madness,
to your sanctity they bow in agitation,
the woman they know, the goddess they don't,
until you dust your timeless wings to fly again.