Best Ascending Poems

Oceans apart
buried under sandy shores,
a rare pearl slept comfortably
behind her walls.

Fate must have been kind,
for a common man like me,
to stumble upon her shell.
As I...

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Waking to cold blown tent, ground frozen icy hard
woods are my love, as is poetry to a bard.
Today starts my anticipated forest trek,
seeking salvation from...

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Painting by Edvard Munch, 1895: "Moon Light"

your soft hand trembles in mine
no words are spoken
we observe our ascending full moon 
as we have every month...

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A diamond in the Frost ... I am Emily, gazing through the years, 
Like Poe from rancid taste and dark smoke shadows
Florescent waste escaping a...

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I long to—
Walk one more time
To where the land ends, and the ocean begins
To listen expectantly for the sounds of infant waves
Grasping layers of golden...

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That first glimpse of purple in the gloaming
As dawn softly rises in morning skies 
Ascending along with nature's colors
Is a look of faith and hope...

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she is tranquillity
yet lava flows in her veins

cut her open and you'll burn

she is Eve's apple
nemesis to patriarchy

one bite and you'll bleed

she is a rainbow
an...

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Love is a silent emotion,
invisible to open eyes.
But, I saw the naked soul
of her enigma - 
        ...

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Meet me in forever,
where the moon enclasps
the enchanting 
   heaven above us,
for you, are the music 
     playing on...

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Another lost noon, 
engraved as unforgettable 
memoirs within my mind, 
I’m rethinking of rewriting
and rewinding revoked 
reflections of a love rekindled. 
My eager heart
is now...

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I am an unvoiced breeze~
a sea warrior 
    kite-surfing through 
    heinous waves, 
knitting cobalt chronicles 
  ...

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~ Yolanda was--her name ~    Featuring:) Leonora Galinta

From a hell storm,
A mighty she-devil took on its form
Like a woman scorn ascending from...

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I witness you fading away,
The winds blow frantically
They are against us, as all are

Little fire, rise in my cupped hands
Be it my life I shield...

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Last POTD for the year - 31st Dec 2017

An eagle spirit conquers storms of adversity,
like a silent soul floats amongst the sky's artistry.
Soaring higher, ascending...

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Hey are you still breathing?
Are you still believing,
or is your heart seething?
Does life still have meaning?
How's the word weaving,
is the ink still bleeding?
Tell me, does...

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