Best Brush Up Poems
Cockle shell candles and firefly lights
padding the path to the woods
Grass crunched and scattered in weeds and in patterns
of the way every garden should look
Cobblestone herb baths and sleepy old stars
shooting the breeze in the dark
Waiting for someone to wish and discover
the cobblestone path in their heart
Night time is patient and fragile and ancient
with secrets just bursting to share
Turn up the jasmine and glow in the shadows
with eyes open wide to the moon
Luxuries lunar light swinging old stars
parading their final hurrah
Flittering fireflies brush up on moves as they
follow the trails of the heart
Pumpkin shaped lanterns delight the warm eye
orange and gold muted voice
Hanging from tree limbs bent down to oblige
and also to be understood
Fly on with sonar and pipe cleaner wings
soaring above all the lights
Lit up like secrets, hovering, weaving
simplicity's gifts of the night...
Categories:
brush up, happiness, imagination, life, mystery,
Form:
Free verse
tempered steelheads migrating through the
shallows, their metallic scales lubricated
with penzoil two stroke motor oil.
moving over sand and rocks
some gray, some brown,
some smooth, some jagged and torn.
with alloys glistening in the summer heat
they brush up against the rivers stones to break
off the fishermens disappointment.
all those scarred gums whose fishhooked
lines caused thier lead bellies to rust.
in the muddy waters they stir,
drink to much whiskey and sink to the
river bars sandy bottom.
their rigid frames drifting through the sediment,
with heads lowered swaying
slowly like submariner zeppelins, trying to
navigate against the turbulent waters.
now these mechanical nomadic sailors keep for
themselves a tin compass in the sky filled with
memories of home.
but still they are mellow preachers
rolling and tumbling in their hardened
elements trying to find their way.
Categories:
brush up,
Form:
Whiskers of time brush up
'gainst gossamer silk web
Slow down, slow down, they said
'Til forces impure
back off their attack
Faced down, turned-around
bone-dry bled
Categories:
brush up, allegory, symbolism, time,
Form:
Rhyme
When I am honest with my belongings
I am amazed to find that I have surrounded myself
With things that I thought I could not live without
Once upon a time…..
But once upon a time is long gone, and these things
no longer give me joy, or make me happy in any kind of
weird way.
That sparkly spangly pillow I did not think I could live
without two months ago Is uncomfortably hard, and
scrapes my fingers in an unkind way when I accidentally
brush up against it. But here it sits because I did pay
Twenty-three dollars for it, right?
Wrong!
It is going, and so are thousands of other items that
no longer give me joy. I am loading up the truck with
buckets and boxes of insane things when my husband
starts to stroll around the corner. Whisk! He is now
hiding behind the edge of the porch.
He has seen me in this mood many times, and he
always comments that he is surprised I have not
yet hauled him off. I glare at him. Wishing he would
get just a little closer for I am in that mood.
Categories:
brush up, hilarious,
Form:
Narrative
Standing in the wings, on the periphery
of her cultivated world, inhibited only by
station and space, my head slowly spins
into her orbit, my eye lids twitter nervously,
my titillated ears vibrate, my hands tremble,
inner being disassembles, kneeling in deep
contrition, my flattering pose, covered by
plebeian skin, without merit or standing,
not in her purview, goes unnoticed.
Straining to capture a meaningful memento
of her regal essence, if but a quick glance,
token gesture, two or three words spoken
in jest, but, alas, no comely features with
which to attract even a passing stare.
Shriveling in her presence, my net value
laid bare. On my crown, a matted toupee,
a disheveled mound of bristled fibers.
No sterling jewelry to sparkle in her
turquoise eyes. On my wrist, a cheap
sports watch with a plastic band. My
colloquial speech contains no majestic
refrain, her delicate drums to tap, and
no rhythmic cadence, her cochlear bands
to serenade. En-wrapping my taut
form, the trappings of a commoner.
No velvet suit or silk cuffs, her refined
fingers to address; no cashmere
slacks, only a stiff pair of unpleated
Dockers to brush up against her
glimmering, polished legs. But, at
my lowly base, a pair of Dolce &
Gabanna wingtips, exuding a waxy
shine, casting an enthralling glare,
a magical spell with which to cloud
her discerning eyes, and to dissuade
her genteel mind. With one lengthy
stride, I introduce my intentions. Her
condescending eyes now peel away
my pretentious threads, and, with an
outstretched hand, beckons me to
her side, presses me against her
throbbing bosom. The lurid dance
begins, ending only after the darkness
filters the floss of my wingtips from
her dilated eyes.
Categories:
brush up, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse
It is not about your age
Or your sign
How you make me to feel fine
My sweet dear lovely beautiful
Sunshine
It's not about your body
Or if guitar is your hobby
If you're waiting at the lobby
Or if we drink
and we get groggy
It's not about your life
If I'm the husband
You're the wife
Be together
Snap high five
If we dance
And if we jive
We survive
And we revive
We renew and we replace
Look each other at the face
We restore and we arouse
Live together in one house
We brush up
And we rekindle
We're together
And not single
We live up
And re awake
Life is sweet
A piece of cake
We enliven
Animate
It's your heart
Which is my fate
Hope I'm early
And not late
You're sweet
As chocolate
Categories:
brush up, girlfriend,
Form:
Quatrain
He is the sinking of the final red orange sun of the glowing summer
Warmth no longer oozing and seeping into the pores as I lie bare under the skies
Jeweled dewdrops on the morning grass to dampen bare feet all softness under
And the shimmer on the surface of the lakes like the diamonds in your eyes
He is the golden cusp pf Autumn's Fertility
The ritual dance of the scarecrow in the breezes
(Straw coming loose and flying towards you, most certainly
will brush up against you and tickle before he ceases)
And this thinner less lumpy all seeing scarecrow
Seems to be in no remorse: his knowing face will always grin
And his arms will always be raised in a wave to show
He will protect the yellow brown stalks that bend before him
He is the crisp wind that caresses the crinkled foliage
Their rustling like long flowing skirts on a 1940s ballroom floor
These winds chill the fingers and toes and your face with the stinging red roses
Yet when winter beckons the retreating light, we will be frozen at its core
He is silent snowfalls and many winter moons
And the brown earth beginning to expose itself
The uncoiling of green and mud beginning to ooze
And all new life breaking free from its fragile shell
Categories:
brush up, faith, hope, music, mystery,
Form:
Prose Poetry
I lay here in deep slumber, feel my breath
upon your face as you lay near me.
Place your fingertips through my hair,
and you wonder what I dream.
Brush up close against me,
you want to feel warmth.
Embrace this space
while I sleep.
Peaceful
bliss.
Hug
me now,
If you please
I want to feel
your tender strong arms.
Your eyes are heavy too.
Together we sleep awhile.
I feel your heart beat like a drum,
so I'm unsure if I'm still sleeping.
I lay here in this moment and enjoy.
By Emma Buckeridge. Count down and count up form for contest.
4th place win
Categories:
brush up, life, people,
Form:
Etheree
Do Not Play with Plaque
We prefer that you do not play with plaque,
Or much more decay soon may come back;
Even if your gums and skin are both porous,
Come to dentist office and join their chorus.
They there become monitor and regulator;
Did use both dental floss and a stimulator;
Breathing fresh air is the best substance;
Bad breath brings on much repugnance.
Before magnificent mornings pass us by,
Brush all beautiful teeth am sure to try;
Perfect example like to and always set;
Love at first sight when dentist we met.
Same to assistants and receptionist applied;
For all of their support have heavily relied;
So each morning mouth wakes up smiling,
And now my nice teeth am never defiling.
Do brush up and down and sideways to;
Between teeth floss through and through,
And then in the end you can hardly wait,
To use gum massager before we masticate.
Mouths do exceed each standard and form;
Dentist said set and established a new norm;
On our teeth, actions control ware and tare;
Shiny and still look gorgeous everywhere.
James Thesarious Hilarious
Retired Veteran and Poet
https://www.poetrysoup.com/member_area/edit_my_poem.aspx?PoemID=710531
Categories:
brush up, humorous,
Form:
Couplet
Dear God,
She arrived with tears in her eyes.
Knees locked.
I whispered, "Leave your past at the door."
I dried your tears with my thumbs.
I took a breath deep into my lungs.
I felt my heart press up against my ribs.
I felt your soul brush up against my lips.
My angel of integrity!
With every step that you take with me,
I promise you sincerity.
Your soul has been battered.
Your heart turned into a cold cadaver.
You graze your fingers in between mine,
feel the warmth of my skin as it penetrates through your blood stream.
You are my angel of integrity!
Breathing life into the lifeless.
Like a match, we lock eyes, set fire, and ignite this.
Let it burn.
Watch as our whole world turns.
I will always meet you with grace and the simplest sincerity.
Categories:
brush up, upliftingheart, angel, angel, heart,
Form:
Lyric
Tuesday.
Th sun is faint, but our precious breeze
is alive.
An afternoon of walking.
Walking and feeling and seeing.
An unmarked route around Hermosa Beach.
My only chore of the afternoon was to the bank.
Plenty of pedestrians sharing the sidewalk, cyclists rolling
on the streets.
People walking dogs,
dogs walking people.
Fast pacers, slow street crossers.
Cars in a hurry, always with the windows up,
I don't understand that.
Isolation of the earth around,
headphones in, loud talkers, speedy fingers texting a crucial
message. Blocking the senses, a gift often taken for granite.
I walk uphill and down, hearing the tide brush up on sand.
Many walk with company, chirping to each other the days trivial problem
I have been trying to refrain from my cynical judgement.
Hesse rights on not being able to control the world around, and just to
be apart of it and embrace.
I agree.
I stop at my favorite bench to read.
Freezing the ongoing time,
love to be frozen with no expectations.
Geoff Nicholson, " The Lost Art of Walking "
I enjoy his words.
Inspiring me to walk more but the notion has always
been there. To write you must absorb,
absorb your mind, surroundings, energy.
laugh at the child telling her parents she has a
red lollipop, and her brother has a bruee one.
Listen to the homeless stringing their guitars.
I sit and I read by the coast, occasionally popping my eyes out
to catch the stimuli.
I wonder what others think when they walk.
The strand not so popular today.
I walked and enjoyed my solitude of thoughts and
convseration in my head.
I don't know what I wish to achieve on these walks,
serenity is one,
maybe seeing a shy girl reading is another
Categories:
brush up, writing,
Form:
Free verse
I sit and the let cold crisp air from the sea brush up against my back.
I watch as the waves crash into the shore.
And even more I witness the sun sit still directly above the horizon.
Beauty perfected without even trying.
How i wish you were here.
Just so that you could enjoy this view with me.
I know that you are in Heaven.
Just waiting.
I must be patient.
My time will come.
I will not rush.
I pray to God to protect you.
I will never forget the memories.
You've been gone for a few years now but in all honesty.
You could'nt have left me even if you tried.
A part of you still lives deep within the roots of me.
You'll always be in my heart.
A tear falls down my cheek thinking of the day that you died.
But I know that I'll see you again.
Keep watching over me.
Everywhere that I stand.
Wait for me.
Categories:
brush up, inspirational
Form:
Lyric
'plumb the depths'
______________________
I. (slow melody begins in G minor)
i cannot fathom the sound soul you seem to wear when i’m near,
perpendicular passion without fear-
for the depths are not deep enough to measure our love,
my dear-
we share a rare connection,
of honor and affection-
a vow no other lover can speak of...
sent from above
______
CHORUS
you made an exact mark on my heart,
and it bleeds love for NONE but you-
you saw in me things i never thought you knew-
always and forever have been drawn,
your soft heart i stumbled upon-
autumn vows
of
thens and nows;
no ruler needed…
with a love deep seeded
______
II. (switches to faster melody)
we are created from divine inspiration,
loving me with all your adoration-
weigh me in your arms,
for i am ethereal and light-
sought only by your sight,
delicate like lullaby scents,
no, love never makes sense,
gentle like spring combing rose petals-
like a feather i brush up against your soft tan skin...
and ignite the fire of passion within
______
CHORUS
you made an exact mark on my heart,
and it bleeds love for none but you-
you saw in me things i never thought you knew-
always and forever have been drawn,
your soft heart i stumbled upon-
autumn vows
of
thens and nows;
no ruler needed…
with a love deep seeded
______
(melody plays for 25 seconds)
______
(switches back to slower melody)
a flawless direct line to my life has been drawn,
i drift o’er eastern skies of our silhouettes -
for you are my medallion dawn,
a sunrise no one forgets…
no, the depths are not deep enough to measure our love,
we share a rare connection,
of honor and affection-
a promise with faith no other can speak of…
yes, a promise of faith,
no other love,
can speak of - - -
you made an exact mark on my heart…
and...
it bleeds for NONE but you
(ends in F minor)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Date - 1.19.20
'PLUMB THE DEPTHS'
Sponsor - Edward Ibeh
Categories:
brush up, love, song,
Form:
Lyric
A lady likes to tell her woes
To say just how she's feeling
Be nurtured and be listened to
To help her with the healing
A gentleman will walk away
When he is full of worry
Distract himself with something else
To cover up the flurry
To brush up on the other half
Takes time and lots of learning
For each of them are quite complex
Involving lots of yearning
Both would like to be worked out
In part without a mention
A way to solve their differences
To ease away the tension
If each could understand themselves
To recognise they vary
Then all would make a lot of sense
And Steve could live with Mary
Categories:
brush up, love,
Form:
Quatrain
When I was immortal, I believe I lived right
maybe not healthy or safe, but right.
I could stay awake for days
Drink my weight in liquid gold and
Roll up the next day feeling like royalty craving, what’s next
Names I could call were endless, always someone somewhere
Time would fly by and be instantly missed
Roller coaster rides, another new taste
A knockdown, a brush up
Gripping the new day by the throat, owning it
When I was immortal, everything belonged to me
I had nothing, but the world was mine
Spare change was my millions
I loved everybody
Somebody loved me
So I'm no longer immortal, it all seems so long ago
These days my time feels wasted
Nobody calls, no one I know
I may not be immortal
but tonight I’ll give it one last go
Categories:
brush up, age, death, hope, life,
Form: