Best Candlewick Poems
Lick
The ocean
Candlewick
Dusk in mauve
Inhale salty coasts
Lined deep in indigo blue
Categories:
candlewick, ocean, sunset,
Form:
Free verse
SUN-BLOCK
Your sunset-sanctioned skin ignite melody to boredom world
Your gently pearling smile charm the attention of morning sun.
Your charmed souls burn in nuclear passion
To absorb the bombardment of your ink
You are the unsolved mystery of existence
By pd
The sunrises 10 feet off the ground
This place carried the eternal light I need for my soul to soar.
Like the clouds every poet brush away my blues with one simple smile
Writing ignited my heartbeat to flicker like a candlewick non-stop.
I hold that piece of puzzle that makes my existence complete
Elegantly you walk, Venus-like
Printing glory-of-gods on excited earth
Holding hostage your admirers' eyes
With your Gabriel-censored attire
You are truly the mystery of existence
By pd
My eyes I keep holding on tight.
Gathering dangerous looks, from every poets eyes.
Striking like a speed of thunder bolt,
I fell weak like an addict to my admires streak of rays'
I'm the piece of puzzle that makes my own existence complete
Oh beautiful empress of poetry soup.
Wake thy muse and shake off the dust of block
Your fans are in inferno hunger of your welded words
Feed us again, your poetic meal that somersault the arrows of critic
For you are the unsolved mystery of existence
By pd
A great source to gather the best light here on the soup.
I found my heart beating like a rush~ spontaneous
Imaging every poem that helps me get lost in the moment
I wrote against and among the best to be like the rest
For I'm that unsolved piece of puzzle that makes my existence complete
You are kinder than nature, more hospitable than mother earth
Man and woman scramble for shelter in your cheerful hearts
For your contest, all thoughts erect pines of words
With rush of the sea storm
P.D. (( Linda )) is the unsolved mystery of existence
By pd
Losing myself to reality, this is not like me to fall into deep.
Times maybe hard, not even a simple song to poet my mind.
The truth is, the sun has blinded me with love, and I have no SUN-BLOCK
Until my instincts tells me otherwise, I will find my way back to all my fans * true or not
I (IRMA~LINDA) am responsible for the happiness of my mysterious existence.
BY : JOSEPH & LINDA
For Pd's collab with me contest
Categories:
candlewick, art, inspirational, on writing
Form:
Free verse
When mining thoughts, how deafening the ring
We search the walls of silence for a vein
A golden verse to strum on soft heart strings
To touch someone and stake a poet's claim
We chip away, in rubble, as we pick
It falls as wads of paper on the floor
When suddenly a glowing candlewick
We've struck the mother lode of metaphors
And as the liquid gold flows through the pen
In words of love and matters of the heart
The muse begins to tingle deep within
While he assays the worth of this new art
These nuggets that we find could be for sale
If bells are ringing, don't throw down the pail.
(LOL)
by Daniel Turner
Categories:
candlewick, fun, metaphor, poetry,
Form:
Sonnet
Scabby knees and chimney stack smoke
Scabby knees and chimney stack smoke,
Short corduroy trousers, old flat cap bloke.
Wash lines of linen hang over cobbled street,
Holes in our shoes, dirty cold callous feet.
Make do and mend, hand me down clothes,
Ruddy dirt faces with candlewick nose.
Life much simpler in those days back then,
Times were hard for adolescent men.
Hard to believe this was in my lifetime,
I long to return to Bleak house and grime.
Written 27.9.18 for Silent One's contest
"What it was like back then"
Categories:
candlewick, emotions, life, memory, remember,
Form:
Rhyme
Do unto others, as you would have done. Listen for guidance, while up comes the sun.
Quietly, softly as you sit and pray, you’ll feel in your heart, they have plans for your day.
Bask in the goodness their presence imposes; just listen for signs, until the day closes.
Savor the people, the places and things, and all of God’s creatures, whatever He brings.
For unto your path that you walk, you’ll soon see, God’s message unfolding for what you’re
to be.
If you feel a slight tug, just follow their guide. Your actions of goodness will come from
inside.
The wisdom of Angels is here in our lives. They’re constantly working to relieve our strife.
Soft and furious the candlewick dances. Our lives are filled with second chances.
Believe that Angels are caring for you, especially when you’re feeling blue.
Whatever your worries, whatever your fright, just meditate lovingly, on the candles
dancing light.
Then let your eyes wander to God’s beauty outside; and know that your Angels will be your
guide.
Ask them to stay with you throughout your day, when you are working and even at play.
Moments of silence renews our souls! Carry this goodness and watch what unfolds.
We all are so busy, but if we take time, we’ll come to the place where we’ll feel sublime.
Breathe it, allow it, feel it, dream it, know in your heart and then you will see it.
The wisdom of Angels is a present from God. He sends them to you with a wink and a nod.
It’s a playful and kind and loving thing, to be touched by an Angel, will make your heart
sing!
B E L I E V E !!!!!
Michelle D.
©4/28/2011
Categories:
candlewick, adventure, dedication, devotion, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme Royal
From ancient blackened earth our lives emerged
Affirming eon's cycling through soil's time
But in the end all creatures had diverged.
Though ash and cinder oft contributes grime
To rising zephyr souls whose breaths are numb,
The weathercock and vane, when tossed by clime,
Expel arrays of song with cogent thrum
And sweep away gray residues to place
on this sad groaning land a laudanum.
Our tingling bodies rise and fall with grace
At measured rates and epics of no date
Hold myths instilling dramas to embrace.
Each moment burns a candlewick of fate.
Our nurture and our nature maybe blurred
Yet our atomic cells that did not wait.
From slime to flesh and blood genetics stirred.
Man's science know what brought each life to birth
But not the why existence had occurred.
Now we are stewards tending to our Earth.
This we must do with highest care and worth.
Categories:
candlewick, earth, environment,
Form:
Terza Rima
Imagine a life set so selfless
that even sinners couldn't help it
but carry the weak and offer
strength to helpless.
but this life we lead on
is a cliche' blue song
because we don't even know
when it's right to move on
we don't even know how to fight
to move on
so we might as well get a grip
ingest life till' it's gone.
so I sit here so still
can't believe I'm feeling still,
the candlewick burnt out
tonight on that window sill.
Categories:
candlewick, nostalgia, song-life, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Dance if you will. Come slither upon my feet,
Delightfully disguised as tragedy
Completely incomplete.
You still race to my conscious like
Bubbles in fresh poured champagne.
In rest, you’re a candlewick dripping slowly
Pulling down my shade,
Offering a sweet aroma and a warm glow-
Which still wafts though my gallows.
Where I hang;
My sins betrayed me.
The sincerity in my transgressions
Was vague, like a whisper,
That still haunts me
If ghosts can be haunted, or heard.
From my cobblestone to my grave,
Where truth is only as sincere
As my Mother’s good night kiss,
Or her prayers by her bedside still,
Where I now kneel
Coinciding in breath,
Till death.
Categories:
candlewick, depression, goodbye, grave, heartbroken,
Form:
Free verse
My eyes fell closed as I watched a dark night sky
A chance wasted of hopes pinned on stars falling
Candlewick atop my cake, flame did defy
I feel the fates to my dreams are stonewalling
I plucked an eyelash with a deep breath inhaled
But the breeze beat my breath, another wish failed
A last chance hinging on thanksgiving alone
Alas, there’s no wish, on a broken wishbone
September 29, 2022
Pick-A-Title, Vol 32 - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Categories:
candlewick, thanksgiving,
Form:
Rispetto
The future dubs.
A pride is shattered.
The philanderer moon
sprawls over the
candlewick.
A ghost walks
through the wall.
A thin blade of
grass, holds the sun
for ransom.
Fireflies flutter in head
savagely.
I was not able to sleep.
What was the theme of the murder ?
No sugar, no salt
was worthy of death.
Satish Verma
Categories:
candlewick, art,
Form:
ABC
The error
To consider the space
Empty
Assigning no value to the void
Of seemingly little consequence
Akin to the nothingness that holds
The flame precariously above the delicate candlewick
That was before I understood its purpose
This deceptive illusion of nothingness
Rendering me blind to the power of contrast
In stillness
Invisible boundaries of time
Sound
Energy
Sharpening focus on the material
Just as the division of words on the page
Or distance between those in a crowd
The moments of silence between the calls of the bush birds
Paradoxically separating as they unite.
The stillness no longer
An empty place
To avoid
Rather permission to pause.
Categories:
candlewick, introspection
Form:
Free verse
steeling into the attic
how much is contained
in these boxes and bags of stuff?
all of life, now, then and before.
some able to warm the heart strongly
as when newly minted.
cruelty, giving rise to the chill of fear, pain
a very few, sharp as this minute,
tear into the armour long since created
once again worn,
like a poor beggars tatters.
making sense, finally
a piece or two will fit together
a brief ah ha moment, then
death returns, a bit of spirit crumbles,
once again bent beneath the
onslaught of his rage.
I couldn’t walk the next day,
he pulled me to school in the wagon.
some how the pieces got separated
and hidden, in a bag of sadness.
summers at Candlewick free of fear
no other boot would drop, for a while.
I unpack each precious memory
as I would a fragile Christmas ornament
dangle its tantalizing glow
‘mazed at such magic,
always kept in my heart.
I enter sometimes slowly,
to savour the relief of freedom
sometimes quickly, for the rush of joy.
running free-bird through
gently waving, uncut grass
welcome, creaks the aged granny slammer,
the incense of cedar, Ingoldsby Bay and dusty roads
surround promises of love and calm, safe times.
age, years of collecting, storing, unbidden moments
patient sorting fact from not so factual
time softens sting for some
warms the soul for others
my trips to the attic are not fewer
but much more comfortable
I inspect the stew of things that created me
I wonder, how long
will a child’s memories last?
as for me,
I believe in, forever.
Categories:
candlewick, abuse, anger, dark,
Form:
Free verse
Bliss be quick
I'm fading fast
toward the sunset's
shadowed grasp
Like a smoking candlewick
Like our conversations past
Bliss don't switch
your gears and leave
the moon to tend me
as I grieve
She has no real warmth to give
She can't show me how to live
Bliss settle in
and make your home
please promise me
you'll never roam
Scroll out a list of things to do
to nurture my weak fortitude
like stringing beads of glassy ink
and rolling out thoughts to make one think
or searching the sky for green parakeets
sitting on phone lines, lined up neat
Crushing up coconuts, drinking the juice
Flying for miles to declare a truce
Watching the seeds of the sweat peas grow
or dipping my feet in the ocean's flow.
Bliss I'm lost
unless you're with me
I get caught in the
solitude frenzy
Where there's no one to bounce things off of
Where the moon laughs her cooling head off
Bliss be kind
to this weak frame
and personalize me
with your name
I'll live up to your expectations
Drop your guard and your reservations
Bliss you are
my mirror image
I won't let
my eyes be timid
Shine my skin and temper my glow
for, Bliss, you do these things bestow...
Categories:
candlewick, happiness, introspection, life, me,
Form:
Honorable Mention
Opening Candlewick
Patricia Cresswell
she speaks with gentleness to the walls
leaves her memories and hopes in words
between the layers of fresh spring paint
she finds her mother and grandmother’s there
rising up before, whispering their lives
as the brush passes in loving ritual strokes
across scrubbed pine planks
intricately, through each other, are woven
all the years of summer days
for even nights are days stretched out across
the fabric of remembrance
small goodnight prayers fill the cracks and spells
recited around midnight fires
mix smokily into the faded shades
tales of fish this big, hide amongst the shelves
beside tattered, love worn fairy tales
soft kisses of first love, a baby’s hungry cry
ephemeral iron that bind this aged dwelling
into forever
buckets of colour empty
blues, greens, gold and white
dried by gusted winds, brief visitors,
who detour toward the lake
they carry potions of laughter, droplets of tears
that sift between the evergreens
and sink into the rocks and soil
she washes the brushes
sets them out on the porch to dry
immersed in sounds
forever return echoes of all the children
who ran, bare brown bodies
slipping free of convention
while grown ups slept oblivious
forever, come back the sighs
as eyes peer to catch the last glimpse
life closing in around the magic
as a setting for some precious jewel
she tends to its needs and
the cottage abides
in the sun drenched, cedar scented
whisps of joy between each year
Candlewick is a living thing of the heart
carved out of that enduring blend of
childhood and memories.
it will live, always.
Categories:
candlewick, age, appreciation, beauty, best
Form:
Free verse
Where have the matchstick men and women gone,
they used to walk home from the smoky factories
just to light up?
Where has the Pork Pie hat flown to?
Even the birds chirrup less sweetly,
Is it because my shoes are old
that I walk this way?
The world has shaved off its hairiness
and lovers are both bold and bald.
Where was the 'candlewick' spread
transported?
Blackpool used to be goofy,
a ton of chilly fun,
now the donkeys are unionized
and all smirched up.
I wish I were silly again, not this
cranky, potted egghead.
Where and when did I scramble myself?
Zippo stole away the matchstick men
that's who,
and they never came back again.
Sad but true now and then.
Categories:
candlewick, poetry,
Form:
Free verse