Best Calligraphy Poems
Up and down as it overlooks
the open book
freefalling so
but where to go?
Embellish each page, one by one
where words will run,
of written swerves,
artistic curves
By quill that writes an artful verse
I now rehearse
but cannot free
calligraphy
____________________
For Nette's Minute Contest
By Carrie Richards
10/25/12
Eye-catching writing
With lovely rhythm and flow
Profound thoughts enhanced.
calligraphy
of cirrus clouds as the sky slips
into night
it's her dark eyes
I remember
Counting crows crackle to be free
The cauterized blessing you sold to me
Hangs by the door nail in tombstone majesty
What did we say
When blackholes stripped breath away
Are the promises murdered in flight
Sharpening again in poise of night
Electronic souls dash and torn
The emblem of false exchange is born
When you gave what we agreed
Something missing in hearts seeking relief
Now the misused caliber rocks and treads
Calligraphy on the wall, stories we feed
When rumination pursues without ease
Or tear from history when we please
Deliberating about something cool
Which can varnish a smirk on someone's face
Don't know a bit, if you deem that I'm a fool
But this hand with a pen, grasping commotion for this race
It's hard to conceive this verses
Kind a like I'm in crisis
Stop meditating that this is nonsense
I am just with adoration for this calligraphy that I miss.
Ignorance comes with a specific gesture of innocence
After lifting a mountain, there is none, with your limitations.
And, I will start here, past the speaker and the audience, conversations...
I was looking at the calligraphy along the wall. Scriptures. Huge and magnificent.
Little did I know about. And, it was a very different kind.Aesthetical views certify.
I wished; I could touch those words! Only to reach the skills of a dedicated craft.
I was gazing through those words.In my mind,with an inexcusable lack of efforts. Islamophobia, a tantalizing talk nowadays, to tag questions with a context of life.
Never met the artists, for stories untold, behind the dedication,inspiring, at least.
Lavish, tall structures with those massive chandeliers, competing for divine light.
And, I was nobody but an inner cry. Though nothing is trivial in the eyes of God.
He, who knows, limitations of those working hands, with a toiling, struggling life!
Through the breeze
that blows in time,
the precious weave
in leaves of thyme
——–
Arriving in nowhere
getting up to her knees,
and saw for herself
a wonder of peace
A woman of beauty
that shimmered all time,
the radiance of stature
glowed from the divine
Kneeling before
this nature in gold,
their aura’s blended
in ambrosia folds
No questions asked
and no want or need,
she bowed her head
anti-matter of a seed
A purity and rapture
from the halls of heaven,
guide her to light
thy will has begun
Never looking in fear
of searching eyes,
she turned on her heel
but to great surprise
A hand to chest
stopped all retreat,
she let out a breath
and thought to be beat
Her head started swimming
as a voice whispered near,
“Never wonder my child
I’ve always been here
When pain beats a tempo
with no path of escape,
I stand right beside you
its my hand at your nape
When sorrow sings arias
that peal through your heart,
I dwell deep inside you
conducting hope like Mozart
As grief shakes your core
and shadow swallows you,
in the light of the heavens
it’s your name I’ll tattoo
When serenity has found you
and nestled you near,
I’ll watch from Nirvana
always holding you dear
I may not be with you
in body and mind,
but within all your cells
Is a heartbeat of mine
Know that your beauty
shone from the first,
you’ve always been humble
its knowledge you thirst
My darling daughter
I’m right there inside,
just open your heart
I’m not that hard to find”
——–
I write this and wonder
at visions of dreams,
and will this message
slip through times seam
for my beautiful Bethany
In a wild, frantic fairytale
Could you name a character
Whose heart had failed her
In ways that mine has?
With a bitter flame inside my chest,
I pledge I'll never try again.
I plea with grace and decency
With every attempt to flee the scene.
With every attempt to leap into flight.
To let down my white flag,
Stay in and fight.
Play with words well
In that sure light,
Sculpt scripts that tell
In fragrant sight.
In cursive strokes
Let play now start,
In mellow yoke
As finesse arts.
Up and down free
The urge of curls,
Across ink spree
Thought feel that hurls.
Script full measure
Wet ink that trace,
A fond pleasure
As time meets space.
Words fashion brief
The journey notes,
Mad, glad or grief
Feelings move rote.
The hand now moves
In spacious feel,
New cursive grooves
As ink stains heal.
Practice works best
Touch strokes of heart,
Watch cursive zest
Compose fond start.
Leon Enriquez
21 May 2017
Singapore
Calligraphy in the Air for a Fleeting Muse
Each morning I try to capture in the net of my metaphors the dance of your steps through the corridors of memory,
But the words melt like ice butterflies in the palm of a child who wanted to keep winter forever,
While you continue to exist beyond the edges of the paper, more alive than any verse could encompass.
Your laughter is a silver seagull playing among my thoughts like among the sea waves at dusk,
And I try to catch it in the web of stanzas, but it always escapes, leaving behind only echoes and shining feathers,
Which turn into stardust when I try to stick them to the page with the tears of my helpless inspiration.
How to describe in measured syllables the way your gaze makes light stop and dance,
As if the universe itself holds its breath when your eyes reflect constellations unknown to astronauts,
And I remain here, with a worn dictionary in hand, searching for words for colors the Romanian language hasn't yet dreamed of.
You are like a living poem writing itself on the sky of my heart with letters of fire and dew,
While I, a mere scribe of the impossible, attempt to translate into black ink
The multicolored symphony of your presence that makes the air vibrate like an Aeolian harp in the hands of the wind.
Every verse I write is just a pale shadow of how you complete
The gaps in all the world's unfinished love songs,
Like a secret musical key transforming the noise of existence into the purest melody.
Perhaps your beauty is not meant to be captured in the cage of my unworthy stanzas,
But to fly free through the memories of those who have met you, like a hummingbird feeding on the wonder in their eyes,
While I remain here, between blank pages, trying to paint infinity with the finite alphabet of mortals.
The brush paints
The brush sweeps
With beautiful strokes
With a traditional art
The brush waves
The brush dances
All with the delight of the fingers
And the sincerity of the heart
It asks for great patience, creativity and perseverance
As Rome is not built in a day
Peace of mind links
Opt feel and think
Etch fond verse brink
Thrill bold brush strokes
Ink stains now yoke
Charm wit that pokes
Choice paints with grace
Aim joy in place
Live lavish space
Love funds the need
Inch touch that seeds
Glimpse a live feed
Reach words that fit
Ask truth for wit
Prize poise sculpts hit
Heed each clear act
Yield to fond tact
Sense trust move pact
Chase ideas vast
Reap from the past
Insight now lasts
Pen signals style
Trust wit to smile
Seek thoughts worthwhile
Cheer knows warm draft
Odd writes niche craft
New symbols stuff
Calm affluent rhymes
Urge mellow chimes
Ripe fruits take time
Note why soul writes
Odd and strange cites
Words flavour rites
Leon Enriquez
15 April 2018
Singapore
my quill found its soul
it danced on the parchment floor ~
all six sensed its life
... I sense a sharing
one of sincere gratitude ~
gift lift ~ spills my soul
I live when faced down
craft flows a course on parched reeds ~
ink spots ... your presence
Stars for eyes
Clouds for hair
Skin silky devine
Smile so fare
Energy so kind
Drawing me near
Joy in my mind
You put it there
Are you my muse
Do stay with me
Color my blues
Creamy calligraphy
Clean my heart
Strengthen my mind
Light my start
Path in time
Goddess Devine
From start to finish calligraphy shapes dance on paper