Best Brush Aside Poems
Absolutely enchanting I thought ~
As I drew the curtains wider, to allow in a bit more light....
Returning unto the canvas and dipping my brush
Into a slightly brighter shade of beige
Thinking perhaps just a touch more violet, a dab of red, and, a stroke of amber
Until, I heard the door bell ring, breaking, this mesmerized trance....
Sitting my palette down, and lying my brush aside, atop a colored cloth
I turned to see who it was, that was there?
"Hold on dear, I shall be right back," I whispered
As she smiled amid a radiance, that stopped me within my steps
How rarely seldom does one get a chance like this I thought?
If it is truly important and I know them
Then they shall kindly call, or possibly even leave myself a note
Besides, what an unpleasant reflection it would be, to even but for an instant
Interrupt this dream....
For no greater beauty have I ever beheld, nor have I ever found, then this
Perfection within everyway I believe, is whom she is ~
"What's wrong," she asked, "are you not going to see who it is?"
Glistening eyes, as I fixated upon her own, mirrors, of an endless hue
"No, not right now dear," as I then, poured her a drink
Smiling as she gracefully arose, proposing a toast I said
"To this moment, this day, to you and I, this time, and, amore"....
As I slowly reached forth my hand, to tenderly caress her rosen cheek
And to glide my fingers gently, through her shining auburn hair
"Here dear," leading her loveliness softly, "here, sit right there
That the sunlight may embrace your boundless beauty
This magnificence of your splendor, these wonders, from whom you truly are" ~
Glowingly she smiled once more, as with a passion, I then kissed her perfect lips
"I love you," she uttered
While as the mornings dew lit rays, reflected upon her enchantedness
As a glittering arose about my own heart, and a warming, within my now raptured soul
"So do I my love, I love you more," I returned
Retrieving my brush, my palette and my cloth
Exchanging glances amid knowing thoughts, these souls, so intertwined ~
"Excellent, do not move dear"
As always was captured forever, within, this moment right here....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Painting, Mona Lisa~
Form:
When England’s fairest rose
strained to find a light
neath the monarchy’s shadows,
such passion did she incite.
Many are the years since
Lady Diana Spencer
met and married her prince,
believing that he loved her.
Unrequited affection
she tried to brush aside.
Poised was her reflection;
tears she sought to hide.
Princess Di’s quest for love
drew her to the masses,
who adored this precious dove,
more fragile than glass is.
A candle caught by harsh wind,
extinguished far too young,
left the monarchy chagrined;
her popularity stung.
In death as she was in life,
she’s treasured in people’s hearts,
for kindness is always rife
in the love a People’s Princess imparts.
*Inspired by Elton John’s “Candle in the Wind,” which he performed at Diana’s funeral.
Within the quiet of the night,
amid the shadows of my pain,
the strength I held so fast to,
ebbs, as another tear does gain.
With out the giving of consent,
it brings forth a fellow traveler.
To follow a chaotic coarse,
across my cheeks, twilight pallor.
Bare of conscience thought, I brush aside,
the meaning each holds alone.
I hide behind my false bravado,
as my tears dry on their own.
Today so many young women
Don't know how to cook meals
They can drive through Wendy's window
Ordering a good deal
Today so many young women
Can't sew a stitch to mend
They can catch all the sales events
On credit cards depend
Today so many young women
Haven't had a good guide
They only learned from poor examples
Schools' lessons brush aside
What can be done to change their lives
Homemaker to become
Can the schools be responsible?
No! The elders hold the crumbs
Sponsor: Regina Riddle
Contest: Didactic Poem Contest
Date: November 27, 2014 Thursday
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Rhapsody playing its crescendo again in loves joyful, operas moment *
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As slowly she lowers my sundress while I gently brush aside her golden hair
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Gazing into paradise, as she smiles aneath her enchanting lashes; “Angelica” ~
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Nothing can compare as her mistress fingers play softly my heart; dew amid the air...
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Fondly lying back as yearnful nipples rise to be quenched; thirsting
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Her lips so moist as our tongues entwine her lovely breast, caressing my own
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Warmth rushing inside these tides lost within, her beautiful eyes, again *
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Turning desire towards the sun to embrace these flowers; petals of our promise...
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Sensations nectarous flavours birthed in enamorings, waiting to be loved
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Upon the shores of utopias evermore; floating, through the seas of her ecstasy ~
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...“69-SixtyNine-69” *
On the wind-swept Nebraska prairie sits a building in wretched shambles,
Surrounded by a sagging fence and overgrown with prickly brambles.
It was once a bustling one-room school house, abandoned long ago.
Its weather-beaten clapboards, I judged to be a century old or so.
Atop its cupola, swaying listlessly in the wind, was a rusted weather vane.
Eerily, at the whim of the wind, the school bell still tolled now and again.
Two ancient oak trees stood sentinel seeming to provide a guard,
To ensure that trespassers like me would value its past with high regard.
I warily opened the door, its rusty hinges protesting, to take a look inside.
Mice skittered across the dusty floor and cobwebs I had to brush aside.
There were well-worn desks, a blackboard and pot-bellied stove for heat.
To muse about its past and the ghosts of scholars of yore, I took a seat.
I pictured the schoolmarm who taught readin', writin' and basic math,
Who struggled to maintain order with imps who suffered her fearful wrath!
Little girls looked so prim in their pinafores and gingham frocks;
The boys wore knickers, buckled boots and gaudy argyle socks!
I could hear the droning recitations of pupils whose attention would digress,
To the ticking of the school clock anticipating the merriment of recess!
I noted relief on the teacher's face when at last the kids were released.
I sensed that she felt she had been nurturing a horde of wild beasts!
A New Song a New Start
written by Magneeta Sojourner
As the day and weeks ran behind me
looking for the truth
no answers to my questions
though I’d sifted though it all
Breaking from the silence
when nothing else would call
heard the echo of voices
banging in my ears
No one can hear what is not
spoken out aloud
No one knows it”s raining
without walking outside
I’d hoped it would happen
not happen like its
happened before
only leave without knocking
destiny is a thing not seen
even if its standing at the door
brush aside the doubting
and get up off the floor
the road you’ve been
travelin has become a
joyless sight seeing ride
becoming our weight
dead end one way street
looking for a exit cause
the gas is running low
don’t want be stranded
In this god forsaken
one man rider
broken pathway hole
trouble lights a flashing
out a s.o.s
pulled off to refer to a
torn and crumpled map
can’t make out the letters
So....
I’ll have to take it on faith
next stop will be the one
so this trip will be over
getting past pulling up
the hidden four leaf clovers
dotted in diamond drops
of water where the world
reflects back at me
instilled the lost innocence
firing as thunder clap cannons
into morning light
cut a new horizon
I found my shadow there
on the ground
stretched out in mile long
outline
Inside my mind the sound of
music replacing missing
notes that opened up engulfed
my fear to find
my eyes in rescued peace unfurling
I heard them in the news today counting
Down the hours
That ignore in sterile rooms
The fresh outpouring of flowers
On the eyes, like songs
From trees laddling
Into pots of fragrant
Desire.
Do think that God must wait
Upon their measurement
Of time
Into old teacups and calendars
So small
A trout would lose
Its life in it?
When spring was at their gate
I already had her
In bed all night
A hundred hours ago
When you saw
The flowers
Brush aside the snow
And burst
Into the arms
Of old lovers.
Let there be
No weather forecast
For my love
But let it ever rush
Upon me
Like the surprise
Of morning
Water on the skin
Full with the pranks
Of spring.
giants through the hour glass
stride leviathan
upon the hissing seeds of mountains
curl toes, summer freed,
about the pillars of the world
whose molten bloom
faded millennia ago
and crumbled down to dust.
upon these ancient shores
ponder as you brush aside
these clinging crumbs of mighty crags
once, a time ago
we were almost dust
and they were giants.
An evanescent bouquet of skewed briars,
is how a tinsel laden tawdry essence wickedly unfolds ,
scuppered signpost to a fetid human compost,
faint light pendant on soul crushed quantum migrant,
who might chortle at vivid veil flimsy vacuum,
skirt recklessly around bogus symbols,
peer behind the squalid limp sodden hedge,
mock myopic moribund mist upon boundary busting dawn chimera,
sneer at synthetic spectrum elastic in its irritating tidal wave surfeit,
cerulean fabric‘s milky way escape plot,
in a perilous quest for that eternal tape loop mantra,
the synaptic heart of that vainglorious horizon,
self-knowledge under charcoal moon and silver cloud veneer,
or feral waste rapid fire contagion,
the indecisive day glow dither on the margins ,
of fly weight feeble frantic dash,
that velvet shadow treason daubed pettifog,
known as tangential wanton cobweb fester creed,
the mind a bloated ripple vortex numbing in its scope,
golden mirage but faux fur real concoction,
against the banal backdrop of complex-ridden superficial eddy,
from floral garland poseur stricken en train,
some vox pop indignation mere shrinking violet showcase waver,
the gleam-hued truth has this dastardly demonic derailment,
that I brush aside as spiteful oxalic sting repost,
that deceptive mint green forest of chameleon cant,
sly nuanced molten maple syrup hint,
from out of kilter tree pierce otherworld,
unseen yet bliss-edged virtual garden of firm conviction,
not just from isolated enigmatic individual script,
such as torrid turbulence or mindless scattered rim shot,
when conventions can be altered in exotic prose,
human zeitgeist has this far too often penchant,
for silkworm rapt effervescent double speak,
whilst plain unvarnished uplifting utterance,
resides within the deep crystal spring well,
of us torch aloft emerald earthling sages,
please augment the rock buttress stark phrase,
whose bluntness is a carrier pigeon of candor,
devoid of muted gray cloud blind waffle,
aromatic sprig to giant spasm of bold pluck,
quandary of human race at hearth,
frightened cliques, hidebound yes men who yen,
to swim the azure gulf of august freedom,
to the Eden where lucid tongues herald pristine witness.
where values at the centre of our being should blossom
I walked across the pasture green
In search of something yet unseen
And as I reached the hill's crest
What I saw below I felt truly blest.
I very carefully made my way down
Toward the little grove of trees I'd found
Anxious to see what they did hide
I gently pushed the brush aside.
The atmosphere did suddenly change
The green canopy kept the heat away
As And the coolness settled round
I heard the birds chirping sound.
A movement to my right caused fear
Not quite sure of what was near
Until his antlers I did see
And realized he wasn't sure of me.
As I gazed into his eyes
I thought I heard him breathe a sigh
And as I smiled and stepped past
It seemed to put his mind at rest.
In shafts of light scattered here and there
Wild flowers could be found
Dancing on the gentle breeze
Spreading pollen all around.
I sat beside a flowing river
In grass of carpet green
Soon the little lady bugs
Were resting on my jeans.
A hefty branch protruded
From the river's edge
And as I watched ten little turtles
Found themselves a place to rest.
As they basked in the sun
They seemed so at peace
Until a pesky magpie
Dive bombed them from a tree.
As I watched natures wonders
I heard a shrill scream.
Suddenly I realized I am all alone
I reached into my pocket
And took out my cell phone.
on a cold windy night
just after a bath
combing her wet hair
the color of sunset
thick to the small of her back
eyes of rose colored crystal
lips of a warm winters twilight
full and moist
loving the way they part just the tiniest bit
a perfect neck
narrow and sleek
the indention at the collar
with the faintest vein
some would not like
what others see as imperfection
I see as endearing and unique
her full breast
the color of strawberry cream
smooth like a whisper
they sway as she breaths
her breathing makes hast
her nipples
they harden and stand
to the tune of her breath
her desire inside her
is knocking
coming to play
setting the brush aside
both hands glide down her waist
chill bumps appear
between her legs she teases
she gasps as she enters
spreading her thighs to get deeper
she hurries her pace
it's been so long
and she's lonely
she needs this release
she usually doesn't do this
because of the guilt
so when she does it's because her heat burns
and can no longer wait
her ****** is magnificent
the face she makes
one of sweet pain
her body trembles
riding the pleasure
the pleasure she hates
I wish I could speak
and ask about her day
I'd tell her I love her
that I will protect her
that everything will be okay
but I can't
I'm cursed
I can't speak a word
all I can do is watch her
and love her
as she looks at her reflection in the mirror
her reflection in me
1955 Was a Very Good Year
By Elton Camp
A better year in my life I have never seen
Because, back then, I was only age fifteen
Nobody I knew had, at that time, ever died
Any problems of the world I could brush aside
Nearly eight millions cars were sold in the USA
And never before had they been styled that way
Seven out of ten families owned a motor car
So we ranged freely about, both near and far
And yearly pay was nearly four thousand buck
Inflation of one-fourth percent added to the luck
Minimum wage to a dollar an hour had been raised
And gas at twenty-three cents a gallon was praised
Eleven thousand dollars was the cost of a new house
About a new car at two thousand, nobody’d grouse
Born that year were Whoppi Goldberg, Jobs & Gates
Nobody would have expected their eventual fates
Of the civil rights movement I was only vaguely aware
Dr. King, Rosa Parks, Emmett Till, though, were there
Elvis Presley was then the very latest singing rage
And appealed to screaming girls of most any age
James Dean in the movie, East of Eden, was the star
But he died that year and so wasn’t able to go too far
Finding his thrill on Blueberry Hill was Fats Domino
Bill Haley, Chuck Berry and the Platters on the go
I am not one of those old men who dotes to say
“If only it were still like back in the good old day”
Back in 1955, there many problems and great woe
But not the concern of a fifties teenager, though
Forget your Greek grammar,
And your algebra, top set,
Brush aside history, economics even if your grades are a sure bet,
And I'll tell you why,
For knowledge money cannot buy,
And that's cake, yes cake.
Whether it's cheese, chocolate or creamy and layered,
You tell me what's the sure fire preference?
Another jammy finger licking wedge, or an obscure civil war reference?
Sorry! Calm down, you just don't seem to be on the same recipe page,
Yes ok, Marx, Aristotle and even Einstein, wise, sage touching the sky,
Yeah right, when did any of them knock up a half decent mince pie?
Ok,ok but you say it's not the point but it is a fact,
And yes I personally take it to heart,
I'm not going to trust anybody who can't cook a blinding treacle tart.
Lets face it, it's all about priorities, and degrees centigrade or fahrenheit,
No, seriously when you're down with nobody to offer advice,
Can't you see there's solace in the next sticky slice.
It's cake, that's the answer, not to your questions, I'll grant you,
But to your cravings, frustrations and failings,
So who cares about syntax and what rhymes with silver?
That Socrates was right and who's Pitt the Elder?
No, here it's time to cut to the chase, it's now, make or break,
We must all rise up and demand more cake!
Life is never easy,
You knew that from the Start
But don't let that dissuade you
Or even break your heart.
Bad times will impede you
And sometimes you get down,
They'll try to take you over
But you'll always cope somehow.
You decide your future,
You can set your course.
Just choose your destination,
Get rid of all remorse.
Don't dwell on the "tomorrows"
Or the pain that's in your past.
You're strong and you are thoughtful,
So go and show the mass!
Yes their will be heartache,
Grief and dripping eyes
But you yourself can dry them,
So gently brush aside.
Life was meant for living,
Thiers beauty in that thought.
So stop and take a moment
And take in all it's taught.
When you see thing's clearly,
When all I s said and done.
You will see the beauty
And gaze up at the sun.
Sometimes you may falter,
Decide you've done your best
But don't give up my darling,
It's merely just a test.
These people who do love you,
Shall and always will
But to love yourself regardless,
Takes a lot of will.
I know your surely able,
For you are like a star,
You shine within the darkness
And that's just who you are!