Best Broadening Poems
Dressing the ancient stars amid their anthem weddings attire....
The universe anxiously anticipating these adorned galaxies of, anew ~
Bookplate bridesmaids, with such glittering eyes and broadening smiles
Quickly making their jubilant ways down, the amendable aisles
With a world beholding as, the best of man....
Hearkening hearts rejoicing so, very deeply inside; paradise
Standing at the altar aside, the most beautiful of glorious grooms ~
Wearing heavens luminous harvest moon colours; commencing halos
Visages, as a sparkling fireworks display afore the joys of an innocent, awestruck child....
Immaculate and pristine; these most mesmerizing of scenes
Cygnus, gathered here to unite this day, paladin unto the morn ~
Extenuatings pragmatic veil; crimsons silkened tides now torn
From, the final pages of such history and lore; a candid, jewel leavened door....
Prismatics band; lifting these velvet promises of an everlasting rainbows, I do ~
Sidereals notes of well-nigh chime; sweet music across the blue made skies
Church bells, reaching unto the furthest realms this, celebrations invitation
Come one come all; come as you were come as you are; the brightest star
Making their way through the constellations; jubilee, and all of creation ~
Coterie, disembarking at the depot from a waking moment; neverendings, final destination!?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
...."The Wedding, at Dreamendon" ~
Note: Smile ~ "Merry Christmas Everyone; May It Be 'Beautiful & Bright; Love,'" John!:) ~
Oh, how I swoon
in the ruby bliss of your sunset kiss -
your vibrant rays of maturity arouses my fire;
touching me with urgent rapture,
saturating me in sparkles of champagne light, then,
streaming through me in bold shafts of gold.
We embrace
in the broadening bloom of lantana skies -
our burning blend;
your western blaze my prismatic panes
telling biblical stories of love and pain,
bestowing rainbows into depths of dark -
our fervor cast like water-colored sprites
in far-flung illuminations
across dusky medieval arches
enlightening dim granite walls
gracing graceful curves and conscientious columns
in jewel-shades waltzing with your solar pulse.
Our vivacious union reflects our Gothic romance
in mirrored mirages dyeing the staid floor
with painted riches that richly rejoice
in plashes of splashy
orgies of light and glory
the appetite of holy ambiance whet
by warm and cool tones
pregnant with passions of the heart
and imbued with torments and ecstasies
of the soul -
cleaving humanity and divinity
in flaring flair; emerald, sapphire, citrine and garnet,
amid our spellbinding moments
of tantric twilight magic.
Our synergy electrifies
the night-falling quietude of this sacred space
before our enchanted euphoria
begins to wane… and as your dying flame
gives way to the rise of the shy crescent moon
I lose my orgasmic zest
to the evening’s ebon hue.
Four legs quiver
like clumsy cabrioles
striking smooth gray rivers
of zig-zag sidewalk barrios
in rhythm with happy shivers
syncopated on a muffled drum
as we talk and stroll
On our way
hand-in-hand
we persuade and pretend
this day away
taunting and cajoling to demand
laughing “hide and seeking”
chasing and skedaddling
poking and peeking
like cuddly pandas
or canoodling otters
splashing and clambering
We roll and meander
impetuously twiddling all the way
atop gregarious green promenades
we pause in slight delay
as we prattle and prance
as we dance to the Crickets singing
nodding to their fiddling
frolicking with all the jiggling
Serendipitous stalks
of snickering flowers pop
to dazzle and razzle our wits
we glide in stripes of candy bits
of rainbows bright
Purple painted paisley
fragrantly flairs in pairs
of scented lavender sweetness
among black-eyed daisies
dusting the woozy air
in a meadow’s billowing bloom
sunflowers sunbathe in costume
We giddily tarry
as we carry
a feast of fancies and treats
artsy bits of charmed delicacies
filled with a peck of upcoming kisses
enticing fantasies that wink
Snuggling shenanigans lead us astray
as we find our rootie-tootie hideaway
hugs as we shy away
from tomfoolery jesting
to lay down and swoon
looking up at the soon to be stars
lingering for the coming of the moon
Murmurs of Starlings
gaggle their harmonies
of chirps
in cheeks and broadened beaks
thrumming tiny melodies.
Swallows sweep and woo
fixated on this unabashed swain
through songbird strains
announcing a shrilling review
broadening in sweet refrains
“I love you…I love you”
Fingerpainting the Monet sky
puffy white cotton words appear
from clouds passing by
while tiny violins spin in the air
piccolos peep
pigeon-toed Doves coo and weep
their contentedness to appease
trailing off the pleasant breeze
I fall upon my knees
My words explode to strew
like a thousand storms set free
“I love you…I love you…I love you”
Stepping into failure as a fresh start, broadening the mindset of this additional knowledge included and persevere moving forward.
Person full of self doubt and disappointment please believe .
Life , love, growth, personal achievement.
It's tough.
But your tougher.
Bravery i have no doubt is bubbling inside of you ,
Time,it's pace only you control .
Feel every emotion with a welcoming acceptance
Before chasing your own perspective of success.
Remember... You can and you will ***
Where are the universal themes,
the parables, the parallels that might
be drawn from humdrum, quotidian
happenstance? We languish in these ruts
we live in and bear our days with resignation
(some with equanimity) -- justifying
our inaction, our failures to break free,
with feeble lame excuses -- never a real cause:
which is, succinctly, our timorous laziness.
A broadening of perspective, a striving toward the epic,
the grandiose -- with, perhaps, the universality of
civilized urbanity, or of rural natural simplicity or even
stark objectivity -- may these be what we need?
Here's the stale conclusion: be daring,
brave enough to become accustomed
to a singular (perhaps lone) existence.
When you must, be fair and listen but,
when you should, be insistently unbending
to the pressures and opinions of your peers.
And use your mind, your unique voice, and
proclaim incessantly your messages,
even to those who turn to you
their stubbornly deaf ears.
Wanton Willows weave athwart the weir
Wishing all the while wilful to wind
Their winsome wands that whelm and win
The restive writhing watery way
Meandering in moonlit mazy motion
Then moving on in misty morning mood
The river runs by reed and grassy mead
Where wily waders’ stalk in stealth concealed
The stream now slows tween sandy sides
With susurrating sound surround
As silvery strains speak of the sea
And flow transforms to estuary
Breakers brash now beat the brook
Unbinding bounds of broadening bay
And memories now melt of milder motion
The River to be merged with mighty ocean
Each day marks an earthly rotation full;
The ascending sun warms, and setting cools.
This day is pinnacle, hence above all;
Our star’s broadening smile turns to you.
Life beacons thy pleasure for things as such:
The love-sick bird and sweet whispering gale.
To exist is chance—yearns cherishing much;
For it is rare a human knows its luck.
Seize this day with vigour—it is quite yours,
(‘Though the seizing of days ought be common).
Search for the willing, you’ll find them in scores—
The persons willing: rejoice by side you.
Happy Birthday is all I wish to add,
Along with the regards of a young lad!
Monsters may not want blood,
and they may not have claws,
nor the mandible, drooping—
the smiling jaws;
without scales or hair,
even growling, I dare
say that monsters may lurk
deep inside you.
Still, without teeth
they may gnaw at your soul;
without mouths, they may take you
and swallow you whole,
or leave you in tact
save a broadening hole
that pulls you inside
and reminds you.
Come gather ‘round me, children as I leave
Countless as stars and I am pleased
Most of you older ones bring me most joy
When I call, how you make my heart soar
Some late nights when sleep takes a hike
You enwrap me in a warm embrace tight
As we stroll through life’s broadening lanes
Picture-perfect glimpses of you remain
This new home will be my final abode
No negativity fits in- peace it erodes
Have no regrets, each one has a place
The universe is a wide open space
The moment, you my fondest was born
I recorded you like my favorite song
Now, I go where I can not take you all
So come, fondest memory as to sleep we fall
~*~
Note: For Frank's "Fondest Memory" Contest
At the beginning of the pier as I gaze outward,
My path appears narrow, straight also so definite.
Cascading light, showed far away shadows, un-brightly.
Precious clouds portray, a show, remembering the night.
Shallows, which shimmer on each side of my walking pier,
Have such images, bringing darkness, pressing upward.
Mocking my memories, discoloring forward thrust,
I slowly walk closer the images grow bolder.
The faded beauty, which I first saw before me, quakes,
Its’ reflections, at first reaching the pier of my life,
The light begins to concave as I go closer, end.
Broadening outward, beckoning me to follow, now,
Both beauty and darkness haunting me, this moonlit night,
As good and evil, being opposites, thus challenge.
Equally, our night dreams must survive upon the bay.
I came to a place where are no cars
I see no dirt but the clear skies
It is night and I look at the sky
I am amazed, shocked and engrossed
By the view of uncountable amounts of stars
Flowers with sweet scent refreshes the sense
The stars look brighter, the air blows delight
The sound of the lake and the tweets of the birds
Lead me reach inside, and find my own lights
Here, the sky above shows life
Where I live is covered with knife
Poisoning is what we all do to the nature
Broadening the dirt and pollution is quite rife
I came to a place where are no scars.
Sirat Haidary
11/Sept/2014
Stilled again across the canals broadening
Girth;
Mesh cages of rock-filled Gabions
Reinforcing patches of exposed and arid earth,
Reflecting the glints that gleefully
Twist and dance in the hot glare of the sun...
Provoking images and stirring indefinable feelings
That begin to irrevocably up and run;
Pictures and voices crowding into my mind:
Immersing me in the flooding moments
To which i am briefly resigned.
Now momentarily staid by the shimmering
Instance
In which i find myself inextricably caught,
Perplexed by something rather intangible,
Seeming almost to tease and laugh
Whilst confounding upon my evasive and
Fleeting thoughts;
As glancing across at the opposite bank
Where drawn up a line of densely packed trees..
I swore...I heard the reel of a high squealing
Fiddle -
Playing ever so briefly alongside a tricky little
Breeze.
For stood there I, wondering,
On a grey painted swing-bridge:
Of brightly painted Steamers, dirty Trampers
And of double masted white canvassed Brigs.
Oh! The everlasting glory of a New World order
Redefined:
Entrusted to those instructed in her Majesties
Construction of sprawling Victorian sublimes!
The men who heroically dug, picked, blasted and
Strove:
To securely fasten an Iron cast girdle around
An ever diminishing blue globe.
Dreaming of long ago, dutiful, Golden-Age days
Rigorously pursued down, what are now,
Weed strewn, abandoned byways.
Faustian clothing and a Velveteens cap;
The thick buckled leather gaiters held about
By the strap.
Many the word spoken in a soft southern brogue:
All hail the glorious navigators -
The navvies of old!
Staunch and desperate men forced to resign
Their native Gaelic shores
And burden unto themselves with
Mattocks, shovels and garishly painted-up whores.
Under the high flaming beacons
And over the obscure little brow -
They carved out the new waterways
To float the laden down prow.
Yes! Men of the Emerald Isles
I salute you and your kinsfolk
From lands cast westwards afar:
The magnificent "Paddies" from the verdant island -
Of Erin-Go-Bragh!
For you my dear, of glistening gold and hues of blue,
A mirage created by the constructs of feeble minds.
Our ability to connect is truly frayed, a romance delayed,
Short as the breath of some insectoid, bent on lustful satisfaction.
Are you even real?
If so, very little time is spent on the marvelous experience that is joy.
Pure and free of the adultery which is an office and a cage.
The highways connected like the arteries of some foul beast,
Circulating through the body with the opioids of ignorance and indifference.
How is it that you would like to pronounce my name,
Would you make a gentle song out of it and lull to me sleep?
Or spit at my face with anger and disgust?
I have yet to know the ailments and disease of a life full of unhappiness,
For I have not lived one.
To yearn for your touch in the waking slumber of the schoolyard is to daydream,
But not of my distant hopes and visions of accomplishment.
But of truth, brought forth through the neutrality of time.
It is the waiting game, which I cannot live through,
A wasteland filled with the death of youth and innocence.
Their ghosts, specters that drain from you all the creativity and imagination
Of a child, to alter you into the grotesque twisted form of a worker ant.
Subduing the hearts desires with binds
Made of paychecks and the disillusionment of having importance.
But you are no fake, nor cheap reenactment of some unholy war.
You pulse and vibrate with the magnificence of laughter.
Your tears shred through my dissected emotions.
Freeing me, no, all of us from the confines of having just one feeling.
Broadening our mental scopes,
How can I feel hate and love at once?
We were taught that they were polar opposites, not of the same lineage.
And so I say to you
With the unflinching eyes of man decapitated on the stump of an oak.
That I hate, love, fear, admire, and envy you.
Following your cycle of death and rebirth.
Kick.
A lot of questions arose in mind always and
Always those vanished from scene
Today I gathered them in mind and called
O I noticed you were ultimate piece.
Searches of bliss and peace and wealth of axis
Noted honestly by flowery pen with golden tips
Blank paper was gladdened with ink and flip
Told me I am happiest gist.
Amidst dreadful knocks of jolts and downs
Started to notice: I want to be your wrist
And was urging please be dedicated to assist in this
In your cities and towns I am arrested with natural kiss.
Love you so sending this SMS from my pad
I believe modern tongs may deceive but honest is chips
I will be afternoon this to shake hand broadening teeth
Questions emerged from mind then will be all dismissed.
(05/08/2014)
What person am I
now?
What season's song
do I sing?
The current moves us
as we steer and
sway, running
towards collapsing
bridges.
The hero starts to
see himself as a
savage,
While gardens of no
pre-meditated
thought
Pop up everywhere.
I am lost.
Writing has become
the invisible beast
as I circle for my
tail in search
Of the nectar.