Best Aria Poems
Autumn's Aria
As crisp chill usurps the summer air
Autumn flirts with every colored tree
Coaxing with musical wind so fair...
Fall leaves dance to death quite willingly,
Spin in pirouettes so wild and free.
As leaves with stunning colors now rest
In a quilt to warm the earth below,
These jewels arrayed to look their best
Add such pleasure to sweet autumn's glow
In the glory that her gifts bestow.
Halloween will share with so much fun
Kids adorned in costumes...scary, sweet,
As the full moon's glow replaces sun
From door to door they will trick or treat;
Hear their laughter echo down the street.
Rain rendezvous with wind's whistling choir;
Joins in song as geese take southern flight
In silhouette of harvest sunset's fire.
Pumpkins mirror moon's enchanting light
'Till dawn displays pristine hoarfrost bright.
8-26-18
Bring on Fall Contest. ~First Place~
Sponsor Francine Roberts
my voice is a blade of grass not a piccolo
between two lips I tell you a great story
why is a spent of twenty on beers a day cost less
than to provide a meal
let's do the math of why a bag lentils
cost more than a six pack of beers
for sure the carrots were there
and so the green pepper to peal a bell
the produce most certain should kill the oast
of toast smiling the future and tomorrow
Carried upon the dancing wind
Enters a brand new air of spring
Fiddles playing 'round the prairies
Where bloom sweet poppies and daisies
High pitch pipes of rejoicing birds
Gather in excitement with earth
For it has just received new birth
Round the country, no trace of thirst
The rains have donned their fortitude
The soil now rich with aptitude
The farmers celebrates new life
For their tears of pain have been wiped.
Even God someday will forget
The blood, tears and sweat that were shed.
By CarolineCecile
Copyright © 06.20.11
autumn belle splendor
graces deep crimson leaflets-
harvest equinox
*****
Date - 1.30.20
Strict Haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsor - William Kekaula
Arms are still now,
unmoved by silence;
Breath caught--
in an endless tremble.
The blue of eyes
casting shadows--
upon reels of images,
slowly rewinding;
But 'tis my ears--
that suffer so,
deprived of the melody of you;
Of the warmth,
radiating from falling notes--
that once caressed me gently,
or vaulted into octaves--
of wonder
and exhilaration.
And I was carried...
nooooo swept away--
with the joy of you;
Thus the loss of such laughter,
has rendered me stone deaf--
to the voice of beauty,
and mute
to its aria of love...
Your eyes tell a story of a life you have yet to live.
Your eyes teach me things that I did not know.
Your eyes burst with light and love and pure joy.
Your eyes turn my pessimistic world view to optimistic.
Seeing the world through your child's eyes inspire me to have hope.
You are my hero and you never intended to be.
You are my light in a dark world.
You have made me a renaissance man in an uninspiring world.
Your name Aria means air and that is what you bring to a stale world.
You are my daughter, my muse, my hope.
I am your father and you my hero, thank you for being pure.
A pub that's typically Welsh
Has music the English can't squelch
Hymns and arias rule
But, like any gene pool,
The loudest is always a belch!
be-ing...........some-thing beau-ti-ful
is the song.............the ser-en-ade
Herald-ing........................our
unique-ness
origin-ality
singular-ity
alone-ness
Be-ing
a-live to
ex-press
what serves
us from all
other life
be-ing...................to-gether
in our at-trac-tion.....ex-plor-ing gra-vity
common mean-ing.......the good and cred-ible
uni-versal elements..........emanat-ing pur-pose
be-ing...the posi-tion.....scheme....rhyme...reason
be-ing..............the............grati-tude........of that
be-ing.....................the........................ARIA
reach-ing........out........note.....by......note
so...beau-ti-ful......we.......sing
January 12, 2020
Aria
** A Mystic’s Words for the Broken **
The endless prayer
Paces alert in the old cobblestone alleyways
In the nearly abandoned
Neighborhoods where sounds
Carry easily and echo even all
Footsteps and cries —
The endless prayer
Goes on, ready to listen whenever
Called by the Holy Spirit
To intervene, to bring
Voice to the souls
About pleas heard
Bouncing off the cobblestones;
Rattling the old tenement’s windows;
Distressing the attendant angels,
Who quickly retrieve their armor
And join the endless prayer,
Lingering in the passages
Of the soul’s aria for healing
For the despairing hearts
Having lost peace,
Lost love.
Hurt carries the echoes
From the cobblestones to the clouds.
The endless prayer rains.
Drowned hearts have no tears.
Flooded streets do not echo.
The thirsty soul sighs
Along with the present angels,
Who take up the leitmotif of
The endless prayer.
——————————————————————————————————-
(c) sally young eslinger 9/29/22
Thanks be to God…
The voice rises on high
Traveling skies of blues
Gliding over mountain heights
Sliding down valleys of green hues.
Another rises from a wooded alcove
To join in the play of the first one
They fly together over flowery meadows
Following the path of the river song.
A thrill runs through the air
Shaking the leaves on the trees
Making flowers wave as they stare
With open face at the sun's stream.
Hear the birds respond to the duet
Singing along in joyful laughter
The voices in crescendo, feeling upheld
By the music played along by nature.
At times, the voices run parallel
Then in opposite, from high to low
They meet in a light quarrel
Laughing it off to rest in a flowery meadow.
By CarolineCécile
Copyright © 07.10.10
Let’s do it again PaPa Jerry
I want to fly clear up to the sun
Higher; it’s just a little scary
Cause swinging with you is so much fun
Round and round is how it’s s’pose to go
Sometimes it gets hard to keep it up
Hula-hoops are so much fun you know
but not for you because you’re grown up
I’m really tired PaPa Jerry
But I do not want to take a nap
my eyes are heavy and I’m weary
can’t I just lay down here on your lap
Not ready for our time to be through
I sure wish that somehow you could stay
Don’t you know just how much I miss you
Whenever you have to go away
8/2/2017
***NOTE: Poem posted on the above video. If you need to read it again, just right click on the video and then click on 'Loop' on the top of the drop-down menu, whereto, the video will continue to scroll.
SONG: 'Run To You', by Kaue Penna
VIDEO: The Voice Kids (2020)
POEM: 'Adolescence: Apollo's Aria' - [Kwansaba Form]
2020 December 12
By Will K
"Mele Kalikimaka"
ALOHA!
I can hear a voice whispering
A voice unlikely of any known to man
Beautiful and overly enchanting
Where it came from, or perhaps of when?
I cannot deter from them who sings
Unholy yet angelic, sinful yet divine
And in no way can it be perceived as a dream
When its indulgence beyond words to bind
And they appeared, each every one
Bared of clothing, in absolute nudity
Demons and Angels, as beautiful as a dying Sun
Dancing to the aria, desiring the tranquility
In time, they all rejoice in bondage
Each to every one, a chosen was chose
Yet, of the one chosen wasn’t at all acknowledged
When it never was feelings to begin with to enclose
From a whisper were words engiven
From simply a moment, a moment is all there is
Thought less, thought more, were times enliven
When given in periodical times, were imaginative beliefs
A radio aired an awful auld aria,
Astounding all my aged aural edifices
In eerie aura of araucaria trees
Aching angrily in a loud typhonic breeze.
My brain wanted to burrow to escape the pain
Of sounds as a warren of rabid jackrabbits
Digging to escape mangy slobbering coyotes
Howling hungrily in panting pursuit of prey.
Such a scratchy song, if played in the briny deep,
Would chase crazy-eyed kraken to the mountain tops.
Callas, Verdi and Puccini would flee their graves
For a screechy symphony of barbed wire sitars.
Praise be! The off button my shaking hands did find;
I woke up, pressing on my belly button hard.
The harp and lute sing in duet:
filling the air with songs of peace.
Audience can't help but to sigh, so deep;
as the voices of heaven
descend the earth.
The flute has whispered
to the autumn breeze-
the carols of winter,
and yuletide greets;
children read the notes of mirth
as they await
the birth of hope.
Indeed, a symphony has now commenced,
among the angels and chapel bells;
and yet the child, in his corner, dreams:
swaddled in humble tattered piece.