Best Burnishes Poems
BAG-LADY IN THE PORTRAIT GALLERY
In all my failed moments of ambitious grace,
The truth, swarth-headed, lifts its greenest shape
To madly light the curls of whitest lace
Edging your throat, and redeem the nape
Where a brown knob burnishes the bone.
Such well-bred tenants of the proudest hock
Like ancient grandees, dawn on my lone
Outride of the politic, and who can mock
The wasteland where now our dreams
Have only the patina of reality to make us sad,
Where derelicts abound in housing schemes
For the heart’s homeless moments, and the bad
Lands of myth are skeletal. Public thresholds
Invest our private myths, and the flesh holds.
FROM IN MEMORY OF HER 2004, 2008
Lonely Stormbird calls,
‘I am here. Choose me. Love me’.
Distant thunder rolls.
Flying rain in air —
Touching my cheek, alighting
On my eyelashes.
I hear, rain music —
On leaves, on roof, in gutters,
Muted cars hiss by.
The rain burnishes
Dull browns and greens — to copper,
To emerald fire.
After — sun’s rays raise
Steam; from road, leaf and feather.
Lonely Stormbird calls,
What do I opine of a good man?
Delved I deep into my heart
Looking at the yesteryears
Written all over my non stop life
The man my heart worships
Transcends the term 'perfection'
He walks not in a faultless world
Nor yearns for an unblemished me
Demanding no justification
Nor apology for any deed is his way
But one who flows with the others
Accepting their typical weaknesses
The heart of my man burnishes
With care and tenderness
For all soulful creatures
With the same empathy
The rhythm of his life
Smoothly merges into mine
Giving me space and freedom
As he happily does to all else
When drained by burdens
A pair of helping hands appear
Out of nowhere to assist me
Melting me in his heart of love
Ages ago good men I thought were elusive
But when my eyes awakened to his presence
A light bell rung and I knew he was reserved
Only for my exclusive rights
November 6, 2016
For Lewis Raynes
On a cold winter, bright dawned the beautiful day
When God bestowed a free spirit of soaring ray
To light up lives of your dear ones with all its glory
A flustering fragrance that forever reminds your tuneful story
In rare moments of warmth, you rent out a fraction of your heart
Sweet as a chortling brook, it echoes deep into my inner part
Soothing Ice that ignites passion, potent fire that burnishes bright
As precious as life, as true as death, a fraction of your heart….
Doubts and worries
Congregate; Hope burnishes
perpetually
Along the edge of a forgotten woodland
There slithers a wave of auroral tint,
As daybreak burnishes its crimson strand
Glistening a pool of lilies an imprint:
Fertile the clay where shore rises gently--
That I reflect on youth’s laughter, aglow
The silver-blue waters ebb contently ;
While fields of thistle in new harvest blow.
Despite June’s tempest, I relish life’s grace
My eyes marking the stencil of ripped trees
A yesterday which draws me to embrace ;
The comfort of kin amidst storm’s reprise.
And rambling up the woodpath I still love
The misty tides speak of childhood tunes--
Like hums dulcet from a skyscape above
Inviting me home, night sparkling old moons.
Resubmitted 4/30/2018
Contest of Laura Loo: Any Rhyming Poem In April
Form: Quatrain
Doubts and worries
congregate; Hope burnishes
Perpetually
Frozen ice shelf spans water
Snow burnishes the ice-way
Tears that once been sadly shed
Now freeze in their place
Russell Sivey
as August burnishes yellow-
a brimstone generation blooms
Ego Gold
All the accoutrements
Bolster self-images
Polished epitomes of self-aggrandisement
Glittering gold possessions
Are the necessities
Of self importance
Makes me smile
For this puddle shallows
Can be stepped over
So easily
A golden bangle
Appeases this living vacancy
Expresses wealth so readily
All its solidity
Materiality
Reflects in its shinning
Empty
Defined heart by plastic
Fantastic advert
Of slick rolling machinery
Means nothing to me
Derives by default
A slavery
Of squandered life
Money
Definition of success
Is thought to be
The diamante of living happily
Retards the senses
Divorces the spirit
And burnishes indifference's smile
To the paltry lives
Of others
I have
The mantra of a
Golden ego
I have
And become the effigy
Of ego’s worship
I have
Describes the soulless
So easily
inspiration burns
turns a spark
from the tinder
of imagination
into a flame..
a flame
that gathers up
experience
burnishes and
refines
a nugget of emotion
into an image, then
crystallize as a phrase
to become
a spoken word,
a voice
from
the seeing eye
PARTURATION berthing the inpiration
simultaneous
visions,
mutli-layered
inspiration:
innovative
coherence
now apparent,
broken
syntax
in semantic
ambiguity...
unresolved
inspiration burns
turns a spark
from the tinder
of imagination
into a flame..
a flame
that gathers up
experience
burnishes and
refines
a nugget of emotion
into an image, then
crystallize as a phrase
to become
a spoken word,
a voice
from
the seeing eye
bursts of
creativity..
...short-lived....
colourful
caberets
exercises in
inspiration:
fearless
interaction
of parody and
sentiment..
in wordplay:
interspersed
crafting
of sensibilities
in compositions
....incarnate
A now moment,instantaneous,
parentage unknown,alive borne
of inspiration.Scattered here and there,
colours everywhere.The inner made
outer.Inherent originality conceived,
perceived,crystallised,the beneath
now in relief,of line,spot,point and
dab upon a canvas,to dry before the
eye.Succinct,complete of itself, never
to be reproduced it stays unique,of
me,for all to see.Of me,was once,this,
must art elsewhere,forever did depart.
I look upon it now,and wonder how!
Autumn burnishes furry heads,
even we, who however scant our hair
flourish in this wind-blown leafy.
No room for stray gray wisps;
our locks turn golden brown,
crown our minds with crinkly laurels.
Mr. Groundhog looks pretty spiffy
in his cabbage leaf toupee,
even the bent old lady
who walks pell-mell
in the Fall, the strewn and gusty,
has sewn together a wig so big
that it covers her face with beauty.
image alights as a butterfly in spring,a thought arrives as inspiration on the wing.An idea resides to crystallize and brings each together as one berthing the simultaneous visions,mutli-layered innovative coherence unresolved turns a spark from the tinder of imagination into a flame..a flame that gathers up experience burnishes and refines a nugget of emotion into an image, then crystallize in the seeing eye bursts of creativity...short-lived...a crafting of sensibilities ....incarnate .A now moment,instantaneous, alive .
fig tree stood sturdy in backyard
moon cried, sighed, shone nevertheless
lilies splendid we picked some sweet
breathing nature's savoury lore
rain showers continued soaking
we donned our brown velvet jackets
feet safe in crinkled leather boots
henceforth wrinkled folds golden holds ~
gold burnishes our folds henceforth
feet nails dissipate in ether
velvet frays to shreds in clouds bled
skin flakes in soft spring rain showers
breath continues octagonal
blooms tightly curled, first lily shy
moon fully undressed brings fresh corn
sighs ripple surface of fig drinks ~