Best Breathing Poems
I sketch musky infernos with kohl ink
when dead wings of flurry moon lace my
copper blue lashes and ripples
of faith crash furthest seashores,
Draping stelliform-soul
in strokes of starlight
which drizzle as
lemon drops
upon
pink
sheet-
canvas,
So when red
letters twirl like
blood stained cranberries,
rose-gold amulets will
always save the salted flesh
of sun and wildflowers shall shine
as magenta peony-bows in
maroon hair-strings, forever breathing dreams.
I tug my vibrant summertime skirt
but it unravels from a chair :
Reaching dutifully for muse's pen
this mind now becomes a haze
I seek to light an imaginative flame
still, phrases yield not to me
and with despair in the glaze of sunglow
imagination's furnace would not spark
on crushed pages seemingly obscure--
Beneath verses smashed by juggled letters
my fresh ink muddying through heated hours
and papers remain blank with dead-end rhymes.
Poetry And Me : Silent One's Contest
2/22/2019
the crickets break the silence
of the still, dark night
the leaves stir in hushed waves
as the wind whispers past
the moon hides…
shy behind her veiled curtain,
she lets tears flow instead
no crickets chirp
the leaves weep
as the winds wail
and I—
I breathe in the chaos,
feel the cold
dampen the world
around me
but my spirit
for some reason
is refreshed
I guess
nature also needs to vent
05112011219a229
Inhaled at the age of innocence,
with a breath that lies between stars,
with immortal depths that have no
ending as my lungs forever expand,
Exhalation has become unachievable,
due to the obstruction of faith
of a boy for his very first dream,
Chest heaving as a heart aches,
Is love a tree or the deepest ocean?
My breath or my reason for holding?
The questions unanswered since the
dawn of man and emotion alike,
Thus the bittersweet conclusion
appears that love equals the two,
Yet how does such beauty create
a pain that suffers from insomnia?
Expendable only to a few torn souls
who have breathed the sweet intoxication
of love, and caressed the linger of its enticing
aroma, and suffered the sting of its departure,
Leaving hearts which cannot withstand the
agony, to exhale affection for everything in
its entirety, crushing the hope of such youths,
yet this warning takes nothing from its appeal,
For to breathe love, is to touch enchantment,
As romance itself in but a breathe shared
between two spirits rewarded for persistence,
With the risk of being proven fallible,
which leads to tears and pain entwined,
Must we not embrace the risk as reward?
For those as myself, who answered "no"
are condemned to the most fragile breathing,
For each breath hurts like the last
One love, one lost, one breath in all,
Breathing her in as if she has become
the last breath of oxygen in my life,
For she has, she has become my only,
due to a choice made for the perfect love,
Yet my painful irony has become, breathing
and loving, with each one, keeping
the agony of the other alive forever
We inhale and exhale air to survive on Earth,
it cannot be seen but we need it from birth;
made up of oxygen and nitrogen and gases,
we cannot see 'air' even with strong glasses.
I feel its gentle caress in a soft breeze or wind,
it flows unseen in my cells to clear my mind;
brings me sweet scents too- tangles my hair,
it is invisible to the eye- but we all need air.
___________________________
July 16, 2019
Poetry/Rhyme/Air
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1167-748-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
What loathesome burden wears your weary heart
a trinket on a cold and hoary hand?
And in its dark tide drowns the cheery part
to keep you bound, a pet, upon its strand?
Without a keel, alone and sad, unmanned
to sail the main and brave the tempest storm;
it claims the fairer part with stark demand,
and wails its horrid knell upon reform.
Stand now and rend the pall that kept you warm
and stagnant to the early morning light.
Cast out the deaf'ning rage of crushing swarm
and air the sweetness of your bitter plight.
Release your deathly grip on this disease,
And from your fingers let it fly the breeze.
Breathing, Soft Heaving Bosom Swells
Swaying rhythmic her hips
Tantalizing her lips
Blue casting sapphire eyes
Dancing under night skies
Such heavenly sweet trips
Docking side by side ships.
Breathing, soft heaving bosom swells
O' pleasures, past glorious bells
And Fated bounty was given
For then Love was in the liven
First kiss, gold coins in wishing wells
Sexual thoughts one never tells.
Swaying rhythmic her hips
Tantalizing her lips
Blue casting sapphire eyes
Dancing under night skies
Such heavenly sweet trips
Side by side docking ships.
Robert J. Lindley, 8-16-2018
Rhyme, ( Youth, romance and past treasures once found)
Breathing Life
When all about you crumbles
and life becomes a chore,
when despair and desperation
leave you empty to the core.
When there is no point in living
and you wish that you were dead
there is no one that can wake you
from depression’s hopeless bed.
When every straw you grasp at
seems to snap off in your hand
and every step you’re taking
meets with ever shifting sand.
When you soul has sunk to levels
where it’s lost the will feel
it is hard to then distinguish
what is false and what is real.
To seek your resurrection
from this darkness into light
you must struggle for direction
as you rise towards the light.
At first it’s just a glimmer
like the hopefulness of dawn,
but as the sun gets brighter
it will help to keep you warm.
It’s a long and tedious journey
and it never has an end,
but becomes less of a burden
as you stem the downward trend.
Should sadness comes to haunt you
let life wash its waves away
immersing you with feelings
of new hope in every day.
When all about you crumbles
and life becomes a chore,
it takes courage, strength and effort
to make life worth living for.
But when risen from the ashes
like the Phoenix from the Flame
you can once again start breathing
and enjoy your life again.
Ivor G Davies
the sea winds calling
calling beach tides thrilling
thrilling woodlands for hiking
hiking along streams vibrant
vibrant wildlife still sprawling
sprawling plant life enthralling
enthralling cobble streets for strolling
strolling perfection in a New England town ~~
a New England town of actual living sounds -
sounds like I should permanently settle down:
Leading a simple life are solid folk.
Many fish the sea for their living.
In city life, they would be slowpokes,
but here time is for deep breathing.
Old lighthouses dot an idyllic coast
and fishing boats fill the scenic harbors.
There’s shellfish aplenty for dining ardor.
Many inns are old homes of lace and charm,
reminiscent of America’s youth.
There are old horse bridges and farms
built when pride was America’s truth.
There is much history to relish
and nature that stirs one zealous.
New England is the good life embellished
and an address that I would cherish.
Look at me
I am the life in a wasteland
Look at me
I am the slavery through the ages
Look at me
I am the mirror of the world
Look at me
I am the illusion I’ve fought for
Look at me
I’m still loving you
and I keep being here
for you, for me,
and for what’s worth breathing
May we be saluted as we stand brave and tall.
For we do not smile into the face of danger, though we brace ready for the brawl.
What is that, that that I see, it's the
Dark Angel glaring down upon me.
Hold still my courage tightly grasped.
Guard it against my building weakness.
Surely my hedge stone of strength falls fast.
For with gaping mouth, my soul's aghast.
O guardian angles where art thou?
Of your essence, I do not see!
Upon you, I trust all that make me
The vivacious heroine I currently-be.
Yet, now I am fallen on bend-of-knee
With mounting weariness, my nerves grow thin.
Windows wide opened reveals stark fear within.
Take charge "my" icy stare frozen sickles brightly glare.
Of this moment of graved aware
Affixed to root a solid mass vital seconds now to pass.
Still no twitch or flick of "foot", all thoughts to flee, all thoughts last.
With outstretched hands grant me my honor.
Of restoring please do not ignore.
Return to me my pride and glory.
On this notion, I do implore.
Do not snatch the life within me.
Release my breathing so it flows free.
Of my name, you do not see.
On the list given unto thee.
Go thy way yonder time to come.
Here now living I’m not done.
~~~Preludes in the poem "Tones"
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/tones_1198731
I want to be closer
As close as your breath
The heartbeat that separates
The living from death
A touch as electric
As life flows, it seems
This story is written
In pages and reams
I want to feel whispers
So near they are warm
Assurance and promise
The shelter from storm
Safe, caring nuzzle
Intimate speech
Gentle and loving
No poem can reach
Caress of a mother
A hug from a friend
The presence of hope
That no fear can contend
I want to be mindful
Hold the words in my head
For the silence of closeness
Says far more than is said
Ive no need to laugh
if your unseen
and even to breathe
would be obscene
The smell of you
taints my nights
and touching skin
my pure delight
Exquisite this love
shivers my ground
nothing could ever
resemble your sound
Rumbling laughs
vibrate to heart
trembling moments
I hoard for my part
Even in anger
a control is seen
never could you
be hurtful or mean
Sharpened diamonds
cut like glass
soft as petals
eyes drift past
Crystal the memories
you’ve gifted me
freedom of life
soul running free
Conjuring hopes
deliverer of dreams
you are the man
of fairytale realms
A strength of titans
defended the weak
honoured by many
your company they seek
Admired in whispers
shouted from love
you are the man
I always dreamed of
Standing on a bridge
Himalayas Mountains close by
Heaven opened up
Misty dreams
Granted wishes
Adoring Father Sky
A whiff of freedom
Granted this moment
I felt whole
Meditation glory
Breathing mountain air
Showed me a new world
Silence of the morning
Brought in all my senses
Nurturing me wholely
His grace
Fell on my loving heart
Granting me the joy
I had been seeking
"Buddy Breathing"
Ten leagues below
the bed of the ocean in my heart,
strange creatures exist,
they guard the gate
of all things that
have past
the sound of their existence
is strange music for strange creatures,
words are not written, nor are they spoken,
mute hearts bleeding and eyes wide open
masks are worn down here, like soft harlequins
glistening sharp diamonds
they carry forgotten meanings in ever resilient silence,
the trick in the eyes is not to open;
we somehow breathe down here
it’s called buddy breathing.
we try to think of the poetry
in life, remembering the bliss
in our purposeful being,
the oxygen bubbles God bless,
sometimes rise to the surface;
we like to think we are all friends;
some immortalise us
while we die from the bends.
we prayer for miracles
like the 2nd coming
sweet kisses
sharks teeth
colophons
and unblessed
un-nun-like
sisters
Candide Diderot. ‘25
"Swiftly walk over the western wave,
Spirit of Night!
Out of the misty eastern cave
Where, all the long and lone daylight,
Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear,
Which make thee terrible and dear, —
Swift be thy flight!"
(Percy Bysshe Shelley)
****
"I’m blowing further away
This storm is gaining force
Now it’s tripping the waves
How can I test this water
The stars have their say
I shouldn’t admit this but
My heart starts to stray
I’ve tasted white light
Willows weeping
I’ve tasted love songs
Angels sleeping
Fever's breaking
Wild waves
Leaves are raking
I pray to the Saint of all that’s lost
And in the finding curse uncrossed
Wait for the sun to come undone
Signalling me
Out to sea
I’ve tasted Saturn
Seagulls screaming
I’ve tasted shotguns
Apostles dreaming
Fever's breaking
Wild waves
Legs are shaking
I pray to the Saint of all that’s lost
And in the finding curse uncrossed
Wait for the sun to come undone
Signalling me
Out to sea
Out to sea"
(Elysian Fields, "Out to Sea")