Best Blinding Poems | Poetry
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The Best Blinding Poems
sometimes you are in its minimal spotted light...sometimes!
other times you just know you've been touched and you freeze,
moved but frozen...like a stranger it moves in, does its work and leaves.
...maybe it's been a while since you two spoke...
when the dead sea still hosted life,
the hanging gardens of babylon grew in sinc with the breath of the planet,
before the tower of pisa started to lean or mayan buildings were in ruin.
so you write words...any words...they might at least soothe your hurt
hold your heart in a protective shield.
you know how crippling unrequited love can be.
do you still dream of its hug...genius?
life and love share more than a first letter
(like the first letter you wrote under the veil of inspiration).
they also share good and evil...it's a flip of the coin.
either way is fine with you. you'd bathe in holy water or sell your soul.
life, love...passion...somewhere in there...it lives, genius.
all of nature a reflection through its transparent figure glows dark
like the shadows live in the radiant illumination of evening rays.
so let me speak of us!
recently when i tried to hold you...
you were like a ghost in the bright of day,
a phantom out of its element...
there was nothing of you...i could embrace.
when i tried to enter you a freezing cold ran through me like a winter brook.
you exhaled me
as if i were fog on a deserted country road invisible to absent eyes.
still you were my drug of choice.
addicted, i chased the dragon...you...genius.
memories fill me...
days when we would paint words,
stitch in a metaphor or two,
weave in music,
write instruments to fill in the spaces,
ordain a voice.
you wanted to taste me
i was overwhelmed
how you put your fingers on my lips
how you licked them...you...genius.
you were that giant pine i would climb in the dead of winter
(why do they say that "the dead of winter"? winter will die
when hell freezes over. winter isn't death it's purgatory.)
the one with the needles that punctures human skin.
come to me again and touch me...
like the butterfly does the wind...barely but thoroughly.
(is it true that just a tiny flutter of their wings could be
the start of a hurricane? are the icebergs melting?)
i didn't just write that out loud...did i...with you I'm shy...genius.
don't show yourself.
don't speak to me.
don't bother with rising the sun today.
forget those showers you create your magic arc with,
vacuum away all the plants.
lower your wall of blue.
i'm not interested anymore in those pillowy shapes i use to love so.
i've always known it is fire that cleanses, water that burns,
it is the moon that breaks the heart,
the stars that slaps the face...with...i don't know...reality.
i've always known by the time we see a star...
in real time...it's already extinguished...already dead.
it is our friends that will use us...our heroes that will lie to our face...
our blood will betray our trust...our teachers will fail us...
our leaders treat us like just another job...
the devout that will exhibit hatred.
still i believe. no matter what else...the rose will always survive.
the petals deceiving. they will repel all that is unholy.
grab it by the neck and squeeze out its black ooze,
leaving a gentle soul there to admire its adversary.
don't even get me started on the orchid
or even the flowers all...alphabetically.
i dare confront the beauty of nature's art unframed...
canvas loose to admire...genius!
i miss you but i am out of tears.
do drop in though.
i can offer you a cup of dry warmth...
soothing like burning logs that crackle with laughter.
take you to my secret place.
behind the camouflage of forests dense,
where vines grow through spiral staircases
made of turtle shells and dressed in discarded snake skins.
green is the theme there. it is everywhere,
unabridged, unabated, unaffected, undisturbed
with a fuming, burning, yearning to be touched.
so let's...let's grab...hold...squeeze..
feel free from the cheap paradigm offered.
i don't think you know, even while you sleep, i hold your hand, genius.
dream a full rainbow on a fingernail moon night,
feel february twenty ninth its absolute might,
taste fully the slight of a pheasant in flight,
yearn eternal life, wish a vampire's bite,
concoct rhymes nicely fluffed with built in sight.
on this sombre morning the sun is blinding.
damn my eyes.
there is a negative entity drapes our children's world.
shame on us...shame on you...i need you.
i am reduced to an objective observer.
life glides on the little wings of its carrier,
its final resting point in the hands of the wind.
another life carried away on a worker bee,
busy stealing nectar from a succulent bud.
a stowaway hangs on for dear life to the flyers leg.
gets off at the next flower.
meets up with a companion to create a new life.
everything changed when I met you.
was the sun rising or the mountain sinking.
was that an orange globe against a blue sky
or a lit round hole in a sad wisp of air.
i'll play a keyless piano if you'll paint me a horizon I can reach.
i'll sing you a ballad with a single note...
i walked into my life without consideration.
all the same...
when do I get a choice.
when will they stop holding death over my head.
if i could direct a few more plays with you as my guide...
my art, my life! genius i long for your influence...
even one last time to see your face,
unite and give you one last kiss...goodnight.
April 1 2015
Contest Name:A Million Dollar Poem
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015
Cut down to any size,
Crumble, crop me wrong
Pull the insulation from my heart.
Never will I be "A Paper Doll!"
Thank you for calling me a "Friend!"
Thank you for wasting my "time!"
Enjoy the WALLPAPER display
Layers and layers of lifeless brick
KEEPS EVERYTHING OUT!
Emotional poster boards of doubt
Envious fiberglass green never seen
Yuletide Carols warped around my energy
Merry and full of acrylic sh!t-
Hand full of putty maintains the makeup on my face
Arts and crafts display my inner fancy grace
Heavy installed Sheetrock so easily replaced
Tough paint chips away silently through the night
Rigid boards transform into fragile crystal light
The greatest illusion blinding reality
Smooth Tiger Skin, texture of orange simple peel
Beautiful mud swirl, L'Oreal.
Gypsum soft enough you want to touch
Dark walls of a thousand words
A plasterboard of discordant grey notes
Blots and clots of ink, enslave my skin
Colorless drywall, resilient to your charms
Printed designs of cleverly decorated lipstick
Morbid shadows underneath the ceiling veil
A double coat of Pacific Waterproof Blue-
Printing bags from -- YESTERDAY!
Plastered wounds of cement dry and roughens along the edge
A human-made barrier, not even God comes in.
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
Listen to poem:
I know you're not here
but you are in my heart
you are always with me
i'll just slip into you
with these words.
there are mountains
dwarf the cities below
peaks that stride above the heavens
attempt to graze the planets if even so lightly.
there is a special star that rises daily
against shades of air lit.
They tell me
there is a wide deep void that is grand - a canyon
not too far for any adventurer who dares to look down its throat.
Our world is tightly splattered in miraculous views.
I remember diving through the horizon
where on the other side
I found intricate scenes
I walked down a dock straight into an orange wine sunset
through to steps led to a bridge
walked across to an enchanted glitter covered road
to a winding path with a floating pink shaded fog
until I wandered into an explosion of nature.
I witnessed a mud escarpment
with splashes of burgundy, shades of maroon,
tones in burnt copper and chestnut browns.
I found a rare waterfall
rushing down into an inviting pool
a crystal clear deep blue lagoon unused
around it emerald spruces gathered in a cluster of trust.
All in all so alluring I willingly stripped bare and melted into
the refreshing fully chilled basin down to its coral bottom.
I was greeted by an array of tropical aquatic life.
Nude, free, happy
I swam in the simplicity of the moment.
Another time it was
a blinding white wavy desert floor
totally stripped for miles,
just one live growing plant
it looked like tall fanned out verdant fingers.
what a thin shadow it cast.
A bright blue scrim provided a contrast
framed for a photographer to snap.
Floats in white,
were frozen in place
and not a wire was evident,
just motionless etchings.
I sat on the burning sand
took a position and meditated.
rebounded off the thickness of the sultry atmosphere
I heard my own voice return to fill me.
I bathed in the simplicity of the moment.
I love this world
All its treasures
Not all of nature
Not the sun that lights the day
sprinkles the skin in its brilliant sheen
or the moon that with
its romantic smile
its alluring suggestions
seduces even the least romantic of us.
Not the miraculous
vegetation of every kind
or the moss laden beds where lovers have often laid as one
linked to one another - inspired by natures erotic whisper.
I would sacrifice all else,
just to breathe in your love
just to bathe in you.
You my passionate want.
Our love is my Mecca.
When I hold you softly in the strength of my arms.
Touching your face sends shivers through my consciousness,
holding your hand is like plugging into bliss,
watching your mouth,
the dent above your lips,
you know I overdose ecstatic
when mine touches yours.
I want to stay - mine on yours,
as we speak, as we dream.
How I love your smile your laugh.
I hold you in the enchantment of my mind.
I caress you in the secret chambers of my dreams.
I cherish your scent - infinite, singular, invigorating.
I roll with you in the autumn leaves of my imagination.
I wish you everything - for you are everything to me.
I would if I could
I would reach beyond my grasp to,
to pull Magic from my hat.
Squeeze a snowball into a skating rink
just to dance on water with you.
I will love you into our after life,
no man as fortunate as me.
They say reach for the stars
you may end up with the moon.
I got you,
No man as fortunate as me.
Let me make every step you take safe, secure, pillowy soft
try not to faint from the sheer fragrance of you.
Together we are sunset shadows,
shadows that will never fade.
Imprinted permanently on the iris
of the early evening sky light.
do you remember back when we just met
do you remember when it started to sleet
when we used the bark from trees
to toboggan down the circled path of the mountain
we hit the brakes
from the branches of a spruce
lit them like matches on kerosene
and i really think the smoke filled
travelled to our heads
even before the sleet turned to hail
we slipped under the lawn
spent hours and hours
covered in each other's silky embrace
and i confess i peered at every drop of you
treated my eyes to your
nothing but you
i held that moment
fragile as it was
with the greatest of care
and hold it still with the same reverence
and i really think nothing should feel
it just led us to lock lips
and you know i could of kissed you
passed through it
as if it were a fraction of a second
our hearts synced
and i really think that
melting into the air
playing like music
is what drove us mad
and i get very creative
when i go mad
the stuff "crazy good" is made of
it must of worked because
we finally reached the peak of our crescendo
laid in the sublime of one another
i must of loss consciousness
i still don't remember our rendezvous ending
but it must of
because i immediately
felt your absence
and i really think that's why
i wrote you
why i wrote
wanna slip under the lawn
and i really think that's why
why we've been
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015
I Think Of You - Ground Zero (Part 1)
Leaving under a blood moon
in a jet plane rising
los angeles falls behind me
to the song of the spiders.
Latent sun rays fall on me like rain...I
...They say third time's the charm.
On planes again.
A sky...endless... and then finally
from the other end of the world to here.
A continent, an island,
an australian flower drunk on wine.
Her...uniqueness lends to her beauty.
A fourth night.
A church spire at sunset.
At a distance bats fill the sky,
resemble a smoke plume.
I plead the fifth.
It's all these moons.
Tonight a hunter's moon.
She's unable to hide
even with her bowl of clouds.
It's no help.
She has no spoon.
Her luminous rays give her up.
Moonshine in the moonlight over the sea.
six...on the beach.
A purple nightshade,
a sand flower,
Irish eyes speak uniquely to me.
you can't roll a seven with one die.
Back on a plane.
A snow fog blinding.
From my window seat a one of a kind view.
I eight...ate...need to eat.
A plant chloroform green
has holes like cheese.
A large swiss leaf.
I laugh and I...I distract myself.
A stitch in time beats nine.
Back in North America.
A dilapidated fortress stares down
an overwhelming thunderhead.
I camp out.
It requires a tenth...tent.
An Eagle never blinks.
No eye lids.
An unimpeded view.
...but I...I surrender.
There is no place in the world
I can escape.
i think of you.
You are living art.
What I perceive
is what I live.
I perceive us.
I can picture you.
I am photography,
the camera, the lens.
I absorb your image,
A form of plagiarism
I didn't borrow.
Inhaled you but
...i think of you.
March 11 2015
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015
WORKSHOP POEM: GRAND TOUR TO FAIRYLAND
Sprinkled-rainbow clouds reign above the skies,
peeping yellow in-between wrinkled pillars
shine like bulbs to crash the net of fog
attached to curve hands of green Cathedrals.
A carpet of bluebells and daffodils
covers the earth below. Creeping slow are mosses
and vines hugging the trees. Polka dots
of blood rich roses stand out.
Festoons of lavanders, garlands of lilacs
marched a primrose path for the queen
while the fruits from cherries' hush blush;
to peaches supple flair winks on mellow pear.
Afloat midair are high and low golden notes
trembling free upon river runs and bushes land.
Snaps and bounds from strums of bumblebees;
signal the nightingales to sing their anthem loud;
Their thumps of dulcet-sounds shake the hours.
Scents pure as Spring May cocoons the fair
while all around swirls the dragonflies--
the star dancers of the sun-kissed day.
Rushing wind whistles a lullaby to cast
a spell of never-never-land, for there live...
thumb-size flying creatures of their kind.
Regal in blinding white are the fays and fairies.
MY TRIP TO FAIRYLAND
Rainbow-sprinkled clouds marching above the skies,
Sun's golden rays peek in-between curved hands
of lush green Cathedrals crashing the net of fog sleeping on the ground.
A carpet of bluebells plus flashing violets
exhale scents on the air. Sly-like mosses and vines
hug the trunk of trees. Polka dots of blood rich
roses pose, standing grand.
Festoons of lavanders, garland of lilacs,
swelling banana blossoms, cherries hush-rush blushes
with peaches winking flair on frowning pears all prod
to honor the queen.
High and low golden notes tremble free upon river runs
to proud bushes land. From strums of bumblebees
are leaps and pounds, luring nightingales'anthem
on a merry-dancing groove.
Thumps of dulcet-sounds shake the passing hours,
Rainbow hues cocoons the fair while all around dragonflies
twirl and dive- they, the star-dancers of that sun kissed day.
Impressed wind whistles the lullaby spelling
never-never-land, for there... there live.. thumb-size flying creatures
regal in blinding white-- are the fays and fairies.
POEM OF THE DAY ---April 07, 2015
9:52 pm, April 05, 2015
Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2015
through a tiny lens
held firmly with hands
eyes gaze in awe..
with a simple twist
colours explode harmoniously
the colours are stunning
so vivid, so alive
with truth as in life..
this ever changing vision
is but broken glass shards
not whole, not complete..
simple, plain, tiny pieces
they don't fit, they don't belong
different shades, different sizes..
fragmented, swirling on command
no direction,they stop; at one's touch
and through this seemingly disconnect..
therin lies their beauty
for these tiny glistening pieces
imperfect jewel tone shades, dance; together..
revealing the essence of life,
humanity and all who breathe
for they gloriously join; naturally..
to inspire joy, excitement, wonderment
the green piece could be a used wine bottle
tiny violet piece from a castaway vase..
regardless of their origin
these magnificant, illuminating pieces
unite as one and magically dance..
with truth as in life
beauty is as beauty does
fusing together, naturally, effortlessly..
broken shards now glistening jewels
the spirit of every man, woman and child
is part of this most magical creation..
for every size, shape and gorgeous hue
is us; in every race, age & size
coming together, to create, to inspire..
tunnel vision seamlessly vanishes
as eyes are opened; captivated
at the wonderment, joy and harmony of..
becoming one; beautifully and with faith..
Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2006
My dearest Claudia,
For eighteen months, I've been at this Jerusalem outpost.
"Tis you and young Julius that I miss the most.
This wasn't the adventure I set out to seek-
At least, not until this past week'
A local rabbi rode a donkey into town,
While people were throwing palm branches down.
Many proclaimed Him to be their "King."
The Jewish leaders vehemently denied such a thing'
They arrested Him and a riot ensued;
My squad was called in to get the masses subdued.
Back and forth, they sent Him- through several mock trials.
The prisoner maintained His silence all the while.
"He's a traitor to Rome," the priest and leaders cried.
And the crowd wanted Him crucified'
A "Royal robe" they made Him wear
Then His own cross He was forced to bear.
With a thorny crown jammed down upon His head,
It was off to Golgotha He was led.
Lifted up between two thieves,
The day turned black and I wanted to leave'
Then I heard my Centurion say something very odd:
"Truly this is the Son of God'"
Buried in a borrowed grave- as if in a womb-
I and my men guarded that tomb.
Then some time during the middle of the night,
The rock was rolled back 'midst a blinding light'
In the morning some woman came to that "prison,"
But two beings inside said "He has Risen'"
This week's events have so drastically changed my life.
That I was compelled to tell you of them, my beloved wife.
Your Husband Octavius
Arthur Ball (h.S.L.P.)
April 16, 2006
Copyright © Robert Ball | Year Posted 2009
From night to night
I searched in a distant sky
To catch a falling star
To collect its silver dust
which fell ever so slow
upon the life-lines of my hand-palm.
From night to night
I searched with these ardent eyes
for ways to paint you a dream
made from diamond shards
of a glistening beam.
But from night to night
the moon in it's grandeur would show
filtering its opalescent glow
through the bedroom blinds
reflecting its amorous lights
Outwashing every short-lived star
I ever yearned to seek
Obscuring other sparkles
with its lucent shine.
Blinding me in hundred ways
Holding me captive in his embrace.
But tonight,is a different night
Tonight its lunar limbs are cloaked
with a mourning veil.
Tonight I dance without its shadows
and in its darkness I exhale .
Tonight I paint with stardust
I sprinkle kisses from coppered-flames
Forgetting all about the moonrise
while I think only about your face.
Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2017
Trees reach like glowing embers
to singe the autumn skies.
Leaves burst with blinding colour
like sparks that spin and rise
Then a breath of weightless fog
moves across the silent lake
where trails of molten clouds
fill the sunset's smoky wake.
The harvest moon emerges
like a second burning sun
to fill the sky with button-stars
that morning pulls undone.
Sunlight floods the gardens
to melt the morning dew.
This is where my heart resides
since September gave me you.
Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2015
Inspiration where do you go when
you leave and your dry, barren
riverbed causes blinding dust storms in
my mind? Do you evaporate into
mist, become a gray dense fog
lying heavily in the air, intangible…
floating like a cloud, ever
changing shapes? Are you carried
by the wind, held hostage
to feed another storm when
lightening strikes and your deluge
once again swells the
river to overflowing, racing
free and wild, reaching
out beyond all boundaries?
If so, storm
of inspiration, please
deliver unto me
Sandra M. Haight
Contest: Take The Dagger From My Heart, Please - 2
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Contest: “I Do Not Know”
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Rules for original contest: First Stanza, 6 Words per line; Second Stanza, 5 Words per line; 3rd Stanza, 4 words per line; Fourth Stanza, 3 Words per line; Fifth Stanza, two Words per line; Sixth Stanza, one Word
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2014
I Think Of You - A Horrendous Night (Part 0)
I open my window
the dark is blinding.
It is a severe cold outside
a stream of freezing air seeps in.
Two fifteen a.m....
I open my window another crack,
struggling to sleep...!
I count from one thousand to one
it might as well be ten thousand.
Still not use to a lonely bed
six of my senses explode like
a dandelion globe in a tornado...I
i think of you.
Raise the white flag,
wait the sunrise.
Wasn't it an eon ago
I drank the sunset?
It's never lost on me
I always ingest miracles slowly.
It's freezing cold now in my room...I think!
I feel everything...I feel nothing.
My face buried in both my hands...I
i think of you...
Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015
She kept it all inside her
and never spoke a word,
though her thoughts flew and darted
like a trapped and frantic bird.
Inside her was a garden
that was hung with Spanish moss,
like the massive oaks were weeping
to remind her of her loss..
The spider wove at breakneck speed,
a perfect work of art,
watching it, she had her doubts
that humans were so smart.
The southern air was sultry
and the sea salt cloyed the skin,
the yard dogs dug depressions
and the alley cats grew thin.
The black top roads got sticky
when the southern sun beat down
and the heat forever rises
forming monstrous thunderclouds.
When the blue sky rolls and blackens
soon the thunder shakes the ground
and the southern landscape flattens
as the blinding rain pours down.
Nostrils flared, she filled her lungs
with the dank and heady scent
of peat-rich soil, decay and loam,
of lavender and mint.
And in her secret garden,
reptiles raised their faces high,
and blessed the cooling water
that came pouring from the sky.
She loved the iridescence
of the blue-green dragonflies
and marveled at their flying skills
as they went whirring by.
The rain soon turned magnolia leaves
into miniature garden ponds,
there the dragonflies must lay their eggs
before the rain is gone.
Wrens and sparrows chirped and chattered,
they enjoyed the cooling rain,
but the squirrels were wet and grumpy
and the jays were raising Cain.
The girl did not seek cover
and the rain ran down her face,
on her lashes rain drops trembled,
much like crystals gently placed.
The thunder never frightened her
nor did the lightning scare,
to nature she was connected,
to living things, aware.
She lived in every moment,
soon the thunderstorm would end
and the dark earth would start steaming,
then the heat would come again.
Suddenly all fell silent
in her garden of delights,
all living things were quiet
as the steam began to rise.
The gray squirrel broke the silence
and if squirrels could really speak,
she knew he would be cursing,
surely swearing a blue streak.
And then she saw the blue jay
madly pumping out his call,
his angry face was comical
Mohawk feathers standing tall.
She swam the Sea of Apathy
and the Ocean of Ennui,
there the waves upheld her gently,
washing over memories.
And the earthworms turned the soil
in the garden of her mind
and the trees again were weeping
from the echoes left behind.
Copyright © Danielle White | Year Posted 2008
Out of hell’s breath the Devil’s Coachman comes and turns
around the tale to woe twists as the world creeps backwards
underneath the clay slithering sacrificial savagery begins
Ghastly ghostly spectres watch on with soulless glee
under laid this icy moon the toxic evil venom spews
within hideous precision it claw’s innocent victims prey
Fiercely gnashing jaws instinctively in this fiendish predator of night shades
dark striking off balance this stead of hell delivers his deadliest of blows
disturbingly the pungent smell permeates this surrounding sphere
Paralyzing unwary sufferers arching like a scorpion ready to strike
acrimony spreads stealthily through the shadowy invasion within the beast’s bite
suffering of hades destructive force inflicts a prelude to the apparitions
Awakening within this lair of madness an unsuspecting sacrifice
blinding under tombstones creeping slowly chill’s out
through one veil of darkened soil a nocturnal predator comes to feed
Liquefying resistant victim within the glaze of ebony eyes
mystic powers claiming to be magic crushing the core of Eve’s apple
emerging covered with its sclerotized plates the Coachman devours
Repast of putrid skin the last victim lies rotten
one captured soul sinks into the river of Acheron
final reward for the unwitting wounded prey
Begins eternal downward descent
drawn up and treasured by this hungry decedent of a Rove
carried away into hidden hollows of the dead roaring
Fiercely jealous of it’s captive trophy
sector’s remain vigilant to guard such treasured stored
this Coachman’s rightly domain claims a legion to an underworld
The deepest and darkest secrets expelled unrighteous
this scarabaeus reaper as black inside with a rapier blade and sickle
condemned are the two faced between thee jaws of this deadly fiend locked on
A co-written piece by Liam Mcdaid & Donna Loughman
Copyright © Donna Loughman | Year Posted 2017
One floating away into the stars
magically opening up windows
a fairy princess flies royal
in a realm crowning regal kingdom
Dazzling beautiful moonbeam's
sparkling dew petal soft starlight
touching moments gleam diamond
caressing thoughts sweetest heart tenderly
Magic weaving ribbons spell
in desire softness shining warm light
stroking warm dusting angel feathers
enchanting lips under spell
falling kissing beauty
Sweetly waves dance
sure as the moon reflection rises
a fairy tale dream begins gleaming
She stands there motionless form
sparkling jewels spell bound blinding grace
Sweetly filled by waves emotions pop from his kiss
Pink champagne bubbles bursting flavors and roars in her blood
Sensitive skin like a stormy sea crawling warmly underneath
silver glittering dazzling in moon light reflections
A golden rain with white water lilies
Romeo and Juliet at the Opera - to be or not to be
all waves crash and land on shores
A beautiful love story under the moonlight
Paddling lonely on his lily leaf
he tasted lips the frog
But this is something bigger ...
touches heart and soul walking hand in hand
paradise a droplet of dew falls spiritually
Spiraling rippling fingers of energy
a really beautiful adventure begins
four chambers magically open up
Touching warm caressing emotions softly
inside an unknown world redeemed in light
Time has shown me this simple truth
That the light that shines from high above
makes the whole world bright
Here is the deepest secret nobody knows
Waiting to blossom at the bright coming morn
So true even in the darkest pits walking towards destiny
eternally shining forever in the house of beauty
Always warm miracle embracing
rays flutter warmly angel feathers
wings touching inside feathers of soft satin silk
Dewdrops rainbow bouquet color sun shining gold
brightly glimmering with hope
A co write written by Liam Mcdaid and
Anne-Lise Andresen :) - 30.12.2014 -
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2014
A flame once burned so brightly everything in sight
seemed quite beautiful in its blinding light.
Everything I took for truth once upon a time
seemed to me more glorious; love seemed more sublime.
Then the fire began to die. Every little flaw
I began to clearly see till I’d seen it all.
Half a lifetime and the flame still is burning out.
As it dims, I am learning what life is about.
But the happy medium I had come upon
soon will flicker less and less. Going….. Going…. Gone.
When my flame goes nearly out, will there come a pall?
In the darkness that will come - will I see at all?
How I miss those days of yore - passion of my youth -
when a flame once burned, and I thought I knew of truth.
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012
A little girl
She comes to a land of ghosts
Almost empty streets
Where are all the people
No one here looks like her
Within her heart
It is so cold
Where oh where, is the mountain of gold
Her mom and dad they are so bold
People of action
Not of words
A new future to find
They endured the sad
A world not kind
Their crowded apartment
A benevolent uncle stole
To leave the country they paid a toll
Plane tickets in her fathers hand
Brought his family to a new land
The little girl did not understand
The language she knew
She spoke it with such ease
She thought, she must throw it away
The bits of her culture slowly stripped day by day
Forced to grow up, with blinding speed
She looks after, siblings needs
No time for her
She couldn't play
Duty and honour
The Chinese way
Mom and dad, working night and day
They do so much, for little pay
Food on the table
A warm home
Within a land of ice
Through the years
A life is built
Yet the little girl, she is filled with guilt
She knows, there's been a sacrifice
Beneath the surface, of all that's nice
Many, many, years ago
Her grandfather was here
Away from her dad, for many years
Cooking for men, who worked the rail line
A small comfort when they would dine
They took the risk
The horrors so many
To long too list
They needed their families
So far away
Yet the politicians, turned them away
The abuse he suffered
With all his friends
It seems now the Government
wants to make amends
The past and future, are combined
You can't move forward
Without looking behind
The little girl, now grown up
For the past, she gives her thanks
Dreams from ties
She rides their rails
Blood and sweat
from hammering nails
She hears echoes, from the past
It seems their gifts, were forged to last
My wife went to a forum where the government
apologized for the awful things that were done
to the Chinese people who came to work in
Canada. So many Chinese men left their homes
in search of a better life for their families. They
were forced into slave like labour to build our
cross country railway. Many of them lost their
lives in the process. They were not allowed to
bring their families. When the earlier generations
came they were charged a head tax to move to Canada.
This discrimination was exclusive to Asian people.
This is a sad chapter in our Canadian History.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014
Oh darling you have become an angel sweetheart blossoming regal crowns
one flake unique floating into dreams so beautiful they sing only you
Pure petal wings flutter dressed in the color of snow purest kiss of beauty
They dance particles ice inside warm love melts shining into the purest thoughts
A faraway star winking in the night sky neon grasps breathless
Confetti crystals falling sprinkles gently laying a carpet upon the ground
Whom embraces the outer body sweetly enchants I open four chambers
holding all keys out applauding flutters skipping echo pops each beat
My queen warmly holds hands with the soul grace of a thousand swans in flight
Once bitten twice shy one kiss from you smitten I would say smiling overjoyed
I will always smile in loves amazing grace in soft gentle tenderness the joy it brings
Wishing that one was holding you right now footsteps in deep sand begins touching
Wow mirror, mirror what a dream baby who blew one out off this world spinning
you're so beautiful smiling these eyes dazzling mirror reflections blinding
Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015
Hereabouts the thinning glades
Of sparse grey Birches:
Brackens crisp copper tresses
Gently waking Snowdrops
Lift their sleepy heads
From leafy beds of woodland moil,
When tucked snugly up,
Out of intrusive sight and just
Fondly the slowing bend
Hugs upon the river...
Banked heavily with frosted
That shifting breezes once did so
The faltering current,
That sped the pied Dipper,
Patiently seeks out the quiet
Of her beguiling flow.
When the drawing Moonlight
Gives way to purple Twilight
In the gloaming
Of Winters sharp days;
When the yellowy willows
Weep watery glints
Lingering and loitering...
Pining for long Summers slanted
For far, far, high above
Over the old red-bricked mill...
Whose creaking sluice gurgles
With long melancholy sighs:
Heavens twinkling stars,
Held briefly in abeyance,
Partially obscured by thin veils of
Dull-leaden, magenta tinged skies.
Where the low horizons fall
And briefly meet the mornings
On heathered moor, open field,
And inland shore:-
Here beached boats dreaming
Of white crested waves;
Soon the keen plough will make
To score the deep furrows once
Now our Lady Skadi,
Purest and resplendent,
Through driving sleet
And blinding blizzards will ascend -
Returning to aged fortress
Of eternal Utgard
Leaving her thawing snows
To dispel long Winters End!
Copyright © john fleming | Year Posted 2015
I laughed and the world was silent
For it seemed the joke was me
I wished to be a comfort
Yet, it was not meant to be
I stood upon the broadest shoulders
and still in the end I felt quite short
I couldn't see past lonely mountains
What goodly news could I report?
Those things I saw off in the distance
Raced towards me with a blinding speed
I dreamt of how they'd satisfy me
Yet sadly they did not meet my need
Within broken mind, I searched for justice
The lady outpaced by quite a bit
She said "If you really want to catch me,
You have to do oh so much more than sit!"
I chose to climb, the highest of mountains
Surveyed the majestic valleys below
Expected I'd be warmed by the sunshine
But Instead, I felt the fridgid winds blow
I shifted my gaze towards the heavens
Wondered deep down, why I felt all alone
As I sat cross legged I tried to listen
Felt a deep aching within tired bone
My greatest lacking was understanding
Until God's Mercy allowed me to cry
Temporary would lead to forever
The cycles of life connected to why
So my tears flowed into rivers
Down the tall mountain into the sea
It seems, I was always connected
Yes, the whole world was crying with me
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015
. Acting Out
Standing, lying, falling, crawling, I keep trying, crying, lying, rhyming, love is blinding
I play, obey, eat, -I digest, caress the softness, when I'm blinking, I'm found sinking
I find myself thinking, walking, talking, mocking, craving, misbehaving, and dreaming
Shake, break, my heart can't take, I smile, in style, small thoughts, are all I got
I'm lazy, hazy, I get crazy, I shout, when in doubt, Acting Out, that's what I'm all about
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010
Beautiful angel a soul's destination flies
High above on gossamer wings delicately
Circling between heaven and earth as soul keepers
Eclipsing the light seraph twitches softly gaze
Touching inside one bond never to be broken
An angelic message shown to the earth dwellers
A celestial sphere nacreous spirit falling
Grace kissing ataraxia sweetly embraces
Deep spiraling sentiments shape mosaics of minds
Kneeling at your feet royal mother of pearl clouds
Standing right before the eyes undying spirit
Pure shafts of wondrous gold has lit the earth tonight.
Gracious beauty floats upon a breathless air wave
Delicately enchants your sweet rendering praise
Bright faces all rise up to such mesmeric glare
Heaven sparkle in the glistening shining eyes
Love's fire burns inside reflection that smiles warm
And all mankind with open arms can only stare.
Guardian of this cosmos beyond dreams sails east
we become a single structure bound together
In cosmogyral dance around a starry floor
In space filled words evaporating straight out sighs
The mind blissfully colliding sparks kisses dust
Gazing through an endless flickering mass of light
Sprinkles on two stars cluster in magic wishes
Granting on the trail ethereal red glitters
Heavenly energy shines down to save all souls
Diamond blue gem sends cosmic shock waves twinkling
Brightly flickering blinding light upon one star
Poured on our world to save us from evil darkness
Orbiting around this earth glows raising upwards
Filled with divine energy rotating halo
Beams fly in sunshine beauty embraces angel
A Collaborated Poem with Liam McDaid, Michael McCabe and Angeline Lim
alexandrine unrhymed Tercets
Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015
WRITING IN A BLACK PERSPECTIVE
Why is it that someone's pain is felt pleasure to another?
I arrived with fears. I cared to find a friend, anywhere
But I wasn't taught to be my own; no school helped me to look within
I heard of God of deep blackness; with words, inciting light
One voice, one eye in our universe
My voice to converse felt crippled.
My family pools held many colors; warm as Caribbean sea breeze
Each person was of significance. Two were like gazelles, alluring
One was as dark as night, the other was near blinding white
Those in between were earth tones.
I looked out beyond decked windows. Multicolored Christmas lights blinked
Nonchalantly in dark of morning; snow was falling, and had covered bare
limbs of a cherry blossom tree- such picturesque view, i decided:
'On this most snowing, all white reigns supremely pure, as the black of night.'
The irises of my eyes were dark brown pools, merging with black pupils...
I was cinnamon; yet found solace in my shade of dark, no harsh light
Soft was my dark. No more depression lurked within. Mine eyes, my ears craved
Transparency; then came clarity. I understood triggers triggering depression
Revelations were as treasured as exercise. Fresh air, rain, sun, I was in awe of
My Higher Power's helpful hands- simplicity and clarity were blessings
I needed no Prozac.
At the start of a new day, I'd submerge in warmth, and baptize myself
I would bring soothing light to mesh with quiet dark
I would lounge, meditate, and pray. Sometimes I'd sing or hum a tune
I'd go fearlessly in the dark, knowing when not to rush
I'd go fearlessly near blinding lights, knowing where to focus.
Who am I? i am as soft as the sinews of you; yet steadfast
A dessert flower with dew of faith- even in winter
I am a flower, thriving like evergreen...
Amid histories fiercest touch to my roots
I know of grace, granted by the Source
Transcending me to live as never before understood.
I need not cry out my fears, in ways that let others fear
I must cry out injustices, so that others, too, may sing
I go fearlessly to face my fears, knowing scars are lessons learned
And good visualizations are as friends, not foes.
Copyright © Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis | Year Posted 2015
One tough ol’ cowboy; a strong, upright man,
He rode many years for the Lazy "H" brand.
One ev’nin, quite late, as he rode out from town
Some bandits, they jumped him; threw him straight to the ground
“Your Treasure!”, they cursed, “Or you’ll surely be dead!”
And when he refused, they were quick with the lead.
A slug in his hip, near the heart, through a lung
Then they left him for dead, but he weren’t yet undone.
Climbing back on his horse, he vowed one last fight,
And touching a spur, he rode into the night.
Back at the ranch were the loved ones he’d guarded
But he knew deep inside that soon they’d be parted.
He was one tough ol’ cowboy; yes, tougher than hide,
But concerning his family, he was all soft inside.
The pain ... almost blinding, his breath nearly gone
But with unfinished business, he had to press on!
His kin sensed his struggle, but there was nothing to do
‘Til that cowboy rode in and looked over his crew.
Anxious, they watched as he surveyed his place
Then he smiled his approval; Pride in his face.
For the barn door was shut, the fences all mended
The mangers were full; just like he’d intended.
There just weren’t much more for his rough hands to do
So he turned in the saddle and bid them adieu.
Neither trying to stop him nor wantin’ him gone
They silently watched as he rode toward the dawn.
His breath now came easy, the pain gone away
Ridin’ high in tall grass on a bright summer day.
When he’d rubbed down his mount and made sure he was fed,
He heard, “Well done cowboy!” And turning his head
There stood his Savior with arms open wide.
“You made them all proud when you made that last ride!”
Copyright © Dean Wood | Year Posted 2017
Trickling over my mind
Came scampering the question
This dilemma of a heart
Come running into my embrace
Stricken with fright
It asked me
Father, why do we write
And so I dipped my feather in the darkness of my mind
And brought forth my answer
I wrote of fear and the love that comes at a dreadful cost
Of meaning and of the fight for knowledge
I wrote for voices unheard
I cried for emotions long forgotten
And the answer came to me as the tears wrote their own tale
Painted in pain was the image of a long forgotten glory
Of emotions left unstirred
Come to see what these words have conspired
Come to see how these words have called them from their sleep
To ensue in them an undaunted hunger
Well my dear son
Here comes my answer to you
I write not for you
Nor for me
I write for what is within you
What has bubbled forth within me
I write to stir the masses
Willful subjects of our being
They huddle in wait
The towering limestones of their cave grow eon by eon
As they rot away, moment by moment
I write for them
We write for the grim
The unnoticed prestige
We write for what you have neglected to see
To bring it forth before your eyes
To fix your head with an iron collar
To make you a slave of our direction
We write to be your masters, when you need one most
We write to fix your gaze on what you have never lost
We write to drag forth from the depths of your inky heart
We are the harbingers of emotion
Be it hate or lust
The unseen veil of ignorance, or to shatter the blinding globe of pride
We are the harbingers of sight
With our binding collars, our guiding feathers, dripping the black sweat of our labored toil
You will come to see
What has not been seen before
Fathers of a relationship sown by words, sealed by the dawning of the sun, the dawning of
Your feathers, to your wings or to your ink
And feathers will flutter
Bearing you into the frigid embrace of the skies
And when the winds will them no more
We will descend upon the ground
And speak to the earth as we are reclaimed in its rough embrace
We will write to the trees, when we cannot write to the birds, the sun, and the sky
And through the trees we will see the stars
And to them we will write about the shade
© Samir Georges
Edited for Deb's Free Verse Contest on why we write.
Copyright © Samir Georges | Year Posted 2010
The soul is but a vast ocean of vigilance
Streaming with incresent colours towards life
Infinite within its parhelion possibilities
Relentlessly searching, betwixt the everflowing tides
Whereupon all things approach these providential probabilities
Of endlessly prolific visions thus beheld
Within the grasp of pristine pictures brushed and painted
Afore the overtures tubular bells; now sounding
Strewn, beneath the curatives silverish moon
Sirventes tunes, born, within fascinations bloom
These meant to be rhymes, amid Dorothy Gales times
Over somewheres prized amphoric rainbow
Arched imaginations, of fantasias floriferous creations
Breathing their pollinating light, within every breath that they breathe
Escaping the carcinogen caverns through torchbeared passages
Beyond the flesh rent falls and encumbering shawls
Carved crude, these animus meshed jackets
Encased within the chamber once laced
Unto broken bricks of concretes chained
Like Percivals plight....
Unmentioned between the lores, this wondering upon metaphoric shores
While barricaded by the calibrated stone engraved
Until antinomy could devise no more; yet
"If all we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream?"
Scream, and shatter these williwaws window panes
Awakening, beyond their oblique orbs of obscurities, void
To find 'The Holy Grail,' amid incarnadines blinding night
This veil removed, as clarity becomes now focused
Stepping from the shadows of the corners once webbed
Crossing, these sunsoaked sands of sunrises preached
With reaching hands, to touch the braille upon windings trails
Which only led back to the same gruesome pangs
Of a souls once upon a times, bound in maimed
Reading the writings on the wall, as cascading waters broke
The pinnacle of lost, tumbling and crashing to the reef
Belief, of a life breaking free from the dampened day
When faith became submerged beneath the assailant currents of
Hopes castaway possibilities....
Branded into their eyes, by the father of disguise
But no more as the clock struck three, and inversion, began to flee
Awakening from a dream, where nothing, was what it seemed
Dorothy Gales amphoric rainbow, draped upon a cross ~
Copyright © John Rhinem | Year Posted 2010