Best Carelessly Poems
I'm an ashen dove,
fading in zephyr
of wine valleys,
saturating in fog
upon enchanting hills,
draped in
grape-green silk,
where fantasies of forest,
sprout cynthia moon
of a bygone
medieval saga,
amidst heavenly
eventides,
and wailing weeds
prick my shadow,
infusing iced intentions
of the puppet's paradise~
floating in islets
of shackled bones.
My wings are
made of violet wool,
fluffed with
blueberry cotton
and stitched
with the fabric of
amethyst satin,
but as soon as
my tiptoeing feet
touch the
seafoam grass,
it stings my silent
glacial flight,
making me bleed
in chloroform-
dipped letters.
If love was a
rosy matte comet,
I would carve
pastel orchid smiles
amidst kismet-coated
cherry blossoms,
with frozen floral paints
and forgive
beige betrayals
of aqua sirens,
to which the
scents of evermore,
sweetly succumbed.
But maybe,
jasper tinted
jasmine petals,
are sewn with
poisoned thistles
whilst being
dispersed upon
the chambers of
midnight raindrops,
and those
soulful stars
in your eyes are
a mere mirage,
flourishing
false silhouettes of
a perfumed
saudade in
nocturnal negligence.
So, pardon these
bleeding metaphors
that echo sombre
sun's soliloquy in the
hazy kiss of gloom
and follow me
to the teal towers,
where this
fluorescent flesh
slumbers in enfolded
spruce leaves of
sequoia sonnets.
For, when the last petal
falls as poetry,
my soul would be
alive in wistful runes,
mourning in a
doleful decanter,
whilst eyes
would frown
in fragile promises,
wiping diplomatic
dust of dolent delusions
and knitting mists of
manipulations,
carelessly sinking~
to soil of feathered
dandelions.
Where nurtured seeds
of jade reflections,
still haven't ruptured
every pixie dust of hope,
in their life's
dormant decession,
reminisce me
as an ivory moonrise,
fluttering beyond,
dahlia chains of sunshine.
In a mire brewed
betwixt puddles of hell and mute dissent
a martyr wades -
weighed down by chains of shame and disdain
alas the thirsting self-absorbed swamp
distills and swills her stewed silence
and swallows the last embers
from her goblet of dreamer’s fire
pursed breaths are pickpocketed by the shallows
in a breathless vertical twist
an escapist is lost in the swirl of a chambered nautilus
distanced and deserted in the dance of descent
stillness belies the waterline’s greed
as a heroine’s salvage is suffocated -
the slick of self-appointed apathy anoints the surface
and a disquieted wind rises to bend the will of reeds
their flutes airing plainsong in forced supplication
yet carelessly cast away like spindrift from broken crests
while storm clouds blindfold wide-eyed skies
stifling any play of sun on water
Susan Ashley
May 1, 2020
~ Third Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 1
Sponsor: Mark Toney
~ Fourth Place ~
Premiere Contest: Spiral
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
I wish to return to beauty
instead of the mundane
To marvel at rainbows
glistening in the rain
To feel melancholy
Life’s mysteries to explain
Choo Choo engine progress
days chugging like a train
The mysteries of oceans
far deeper than my pain
Why do I live carelessly
while others have to strain
I was born out of love
yet love is hard to maintain
My spirit begs me to listen
why do I yield to my brain
Yet desire keeps growing
I pray it will not wane
Life’s a horse to be ridden
I’ll cling tightly to its mane!
I wrestle with my words in aimlessness when I write.
Poetry is a relationship to me, it's a troubled courtship.
I can't come to reasonable reform in words on the spot..
but rather seek intimacy with my thoughts in attempt.
The two of us, man and his romantic notions,
carelessly Laid into tousled affections on a page.
I love her, and the page, she spurns me willfully.
I love her, and grasp in hopelessness to understand her.
I give my undivided attention, my eyes wander her form.
I've sought shamelessly to appease her whispered desires.
But she is a selfish lover, asking for more than can be given.
She, the playful counterpart in a field of rationality, often eludes me.
Leave me alone, I yelled to the kitten
The almost adult one that stood on my head
It’s four in the morning and where is it written
That I should wake up when you wish to be fed
Leave me alone, I called to his brother
Who walked over me as I struggled to rest
Why don't you leave me and bother another
How can I breathe when you stand on my chest
Leave me alone, I say when I’m eating
Nobody told you to mooch off my plate
You better know as I watch you retreating
That was my food that you carelessly ate
It doesn’t matter that I may be sleeping
Eating or resting or doing a chore
These are my cats and they never stop creeping
Over my dishes and in through my door
Funny to know that whenever they bug me
They like to purr just as loud as they can
They show affection by how they are happy
Knowing I love them as their biggest fan
Leave me alone, is a phrase I am using
Spoken more softly and always in vain
What is the point when I know that I’m losing
Leave me alone is like stopping the rain.
Written and submitted November 12, 2021
To the "Leave Me Alone" poetry contest
Sponsored by Mystic Rose Rose
Write a poem for me
from the bottom of your heart,
look for the words still there waiting,
waiting for your nod
to bloom into flowers
like the roses of your garden,
give them a chance,
place them one by one carelessly
stitch a poem with those flowers to be.
Write a poem for me,
listen to the words
deeply embedded in your heart,
their desire to become a stream
and dance down a mountain's lap
to drench you,to drench me.
Write a poem for me
carelessly picking up those words
may be with some mistakes
I like as they are
I will touch them and watch
how they bloom into flowers,
and everyday among those words
my undestined walk
to reach to a stream
and wait under a mountain's lap
to get drenched.
=============000============
A sword of the heavens did glean
From railings and arbors
of dead thorn and bramble,
where ghostly reminders remain
Fall droplets of blood ‘pon
a crimson embroider
left carelessly out in the rain
Our story begins
in a deep mountain valley,
a village so peaceful and free
When one day the darkness
did unsheathe its horror
with metal and death you will see
The army of Satan,
a wicked battalion,
Hell’s fire their sabers were forged
Dark Skeletal visions
in leather and armor
the depths of the earth had been gorged
With razor sharp weapons,
they slashed and delivered
such pain which had never been found
Through echoes of pleading
and lives quickly ending
in puddles, thick red on the ground
While women and children
were herded like cattle
in mass to the edge of the square
With onyx eyes leering,
midst snickers and cackles,
their captors insanely did stare
When on the horizon
a light brightly shining,
engulfing this nightmarish scene
A porcelain stallion,
its rider a shadow,
a sword of the heavens did glean
From steel hard as granite,
angelic depictions,
a handle of pure solid gold
Once heard in a fable,
when wizards were roaming
such power, the stories foretold
As swift as an arrow
he entered the village,
his steed all at one with the game
With blade silver glistened,
like lightning bolts flashing,
igniting a righteous born flame
Spinning and thrusting
as if a tornado,
a blur now incensed of the glow
With whirlwind fury
and dust clouded thunder,
he dealt them a terrible blow
The evil fueled army,
beheaded and fallen,
the villagers shouted and cheered
When to their amazement,
this heroic savior
as quick as he’d come, disappeared
So there is the story,
a sword made in heaven
is now part of history’s reign
Along with the rider
who wielded its honor,
and hopes he will come back again
9/13/18
Written for the UNSHEATH YOUR SWORD Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Lawless
When first he saw her he was taken by her beauty,
but she was sadly broken like a lovely flower vase
whose pieces were shattered and scattered on the ground.
For she had been so carelessly mishandled,
dropped and left behind to go to waste.
For just a fleeting moment,
he watched her from afar.
But then, with deep compassion,
he approached the lovely vase,
and one by one, he gathered up the pieces.
And then with steady hands,
just like a skillful surgeon,
he gently put the pieces back in place.
Then suddenly her hidden inner beauty
slowly started coming back to life.
And when the final piece was put in place,
the tender heart of the lovely flower vase
began again to gently beat with love.
August 17, 2021
The wayward wind forever so aloof
across the prairie blowing wild and free;
just like a herd of horses on the hoof,
and running loose with nature’s grand esprit.
A restless spirit is this wayward child
who’s never satisfied in just one place;
she longs to solve the secrets of the wild,
and ne’er her ventured steps will she retrace.
A wayward heart is like the wayward wind,
forever restless, always on the move,
and always searching, seeking, ne’er chagrined;
she’ll leave you lonely and her love disprove.
Beware, before you carelessly depart,
don't wrap your love around a wayward heart.
January 8, 2020
"Join hands to sweep clean of all dirt and preserve the pristine beauty of Nature to enhance the quality of living. If not, fear her lashing us black and blue"
-by poet
Nature, you are God’s lovely creation,
Dressed in grandeur, decked in regal beauty
You give us much scope for recreation,
Preserving your grace becomes our duty
Poets chant and sing in honor of you,
Sages withdraw to your silence serene,
Beasts and birds have found you as their sweet home,
Men find their sustenance and thrive on you,
Dales and hills – add to your bright sheen
The sky with its stars form your golden dome
Dark forests and running brooks lend you charm,
Deep Ravines spell your profound mystery.
It’s our duty to save you from all harm
Sometimes you baffle with your trickery
Always kind you are, yet some brutish men,
Dismally assault you, they maim and mar,
They suck your life sap – they leave you dry,
They keep on committing sin after sin
Your beautiful frame, to pieces they tear
With their selfish acts, badly mortify
You were once so temptingly beautiful
You could amaze and take our breath away
Looked so elegant, lovely and graceful
In scenic beauty, you could proudly sway
You were Princess of royal lineage
Been decked in brilliantly colorful shade
But your thankless children carelessly spread
Toxic fumes, carbon and dirty garbage
And all your wealth they callously invade
They will ooze out your blood and cast you dead!
May.4.2022
Form O-Ode- New Poems Poetry Contest
Topic... Nature
Syllable Count-10 per line
Sponsor- Constance La France
Let me be the first
to have the audacity to translate,
This piece of mystery molded
in a magical meadow of mistakes,
The reckless subject, there,
just standing still like a landscape of order,
Disfiguring a flow of ridged ribbons
in shapes of unheard names,
Carelessly manipulating my optical
constructors to articulate promises
from paper wings,
Bewitched by the light warm
slash of sun laid upon the raging tides
within trembling silence,
How far charms can go to seduce their
way into a destructive satisfaction,
Might it'd been too kind to dry brush
around the edges of your shadows,
When the basement of your
intentions homed disturbing dreams,
Hunting for the tremors from
freezing nightmares that pray to
bury my ocean and all it's devotion,
Where do the ones who
seek the sins of lost words hide?
While half of the living cling
onto the drifting light,
This shrewd figure that clasps on
the thousand synonyms of shallow tears,
Whisking a bath of blades for
my pane of glass that hold scads of scars,
The pace of time, travels differently
when I try to captivate you through my sketches,
I am told by the tones of my pencil,
that your armor shields a menacing maniac,
Too cowardly to battle for your own persistence,
So hold on to what's left of your timid thoughts,
Sadly strength has long evaded you.
AM I ENOUGH FOR YOU AM I YOUR ONE AND ONLY.
OR ARE YOU THE GOING TO BE LIKE THE REST.
WHO CARELESSLY PLAYS WITH MY HEART AND LEAVE A WHOLE IN MY CHEST.
AM I ENOUGH FOR YOU OR AM I JUST A TOY.
SOMETHING THAT YOU TAKE FOR GRANTED A SO- CALLED PRIDE AND JOY.
AM I ENOUGH FOR YOU OR IS THIS JUST SOMETHING TEMPORARY.
A LITTLE SOMETHING ON THE SIDE SOMETHING THAT YOU JUST WANT TO HIDE.
AM I JUST HOLDING ON TO NOTHING OR AM I HOLDING TO SOMETHING REAL.
AM I ENOUGH TO BE WIFE MATERIAL OR JUST A FLING.
AM ENOUGH TO BE SPORTING A DIAMOND RING.
WHO AM I TO YOU AM I MORE THAN WHAT YOU SAY OR AM I A SHADOW THAT YOU WANT TO JUST KEEP
AROUND.
WHO I AM TO YOU MORE THAN A VOLUMPTOUS WOMAN WITH BREASTS AND A BEHIND.
IS MY BEAUTY ALL THAT YOU CAN SEE OR IS IT MY INNER SPIRIT THAT GLOWS.
WHAT AM I TO YOU SOMEONE TO CARE FOR AND TO HOLD.
OR SOMEONE THAT IS HERE FOR YOU TO MOLD.
AM I ENOUGH FOR A PARTNERSHIP, A RELATIONSHIP AND COMPANIONSHIP.
OR WILL IT BE NOTHING MORE THAN A INSIDE THING OR LIKE THEY SAY IN THE STREETS
ON THE DOWN LOW.
WELL ONLY TIME WILL TELL WHAT THIS WILL BE
BETWEEN YOU AND ME.
Me....,
a shy ..,
and
bashful guy
always kept me.,
confined to last bench..
down my head,
huddled heart ,
blenched my breathes and
arms always clenched..
Staring with a thief eye
to each one
around me
but confrontation
was not my forte .,
this fragility always
kept me away
from my very interest
and invariably
was a thwart ..
New day in the class,
New teachers and
Classmates too.,
but for me
each day was new
and each one., who?
Newly painted class
curtained each side .,
The Teacher announces
our new class guide...
In actual fact
I wasn't a beauty gaper .,
but this time
she forced me too sharper...
hardly I lavished my time
in any admiration..,
but this would give,
drive to my contemplation..,
breaking the ice to her
difficult and caffeine beauty
eyes were clear and watered ,
lips were glossy and frooty..
Tallest and
her collar in the same way.,
I stared alot but
kept her eye away..
walk like breeze
silent and cool
smile like blooming lily.,
none of her company
can stand by her
she was the perfect dilly..
Crowd would stop
while she starts
mostly buring in vex.,
she wants pin drop silence
in the class .,otherwise,
bitter pills to suspects..
The same rain
I got whole year .,
Whole year
I got ,
teacher will start ,
we all will set ,
and I will get lost .,
The last day of
this beautiful phase
I was loosing carelessly.,
No courage,
No rescue ,
The day cutting readily ..
God miracle or
some boon ,
when she came ,
in her black shoon..,
shrinking and shy
asked me a favour.,
Reaching to the seventh heaven
I started quiver..
Yea....Yea ....
I did it
and then asked my will...
Very courageous.,
honestly it was
to utter such word.,
but......,I knew
It was the
last chance
and never again for
me.....,
such a coward..
So....I did
did it fast.
listening it....,
she got locked.
'No Words'
she said
but I .....,
I did it.
did it.
Yea...,
I do.
by-Shagun
Branches wave naked in the autumn wind,
Leaves being tossed carelessly through the night.
Dark rain clouds are dominating our sky
And my eyes ask where the beauty has gone.
Daybreak shows sleepily its weary head
Just to return to bed, early again.
Cold and wet invading our daily walks
And my eyes search for signs of a blue sky.
Alas, the first of many snowflakes fall
Bringing the beginning of brighter days.
Grey disappears under a white blanket
And my eyes applaud November’s beauty.
The white snow has brought pureness in its wake
And nights are brighter from shimmering snow.
We light a fire, and it brings us such warmth
And my eyes feel the sun shine once again.
10.08.2014
Poet Destroyer A's Contest
Impress Me with a Poem
Rain is brewing;
black clouds hang over the Cockpit Country.
Them rainclouds have a habit of shifting colors like a lizard.
The smell of the pending shower is strong on September’s breath;
the sun take a well-deserved break.
Mango season is long gone,
and bellies are tied up in knots.
Naseberries; they accompanied the mangoes.
Them guys from abroad,
who bought the government land across from the football field,
slaughtered them faithful guava trees.
They build condos,
but poor people can’t eat condos.
How inconsiderate them big-shot government boys are.
We (me, Footloose, and Squealie) device a plan,
when our bellies start telling us something must be done,
but we have to wait ‘til darkness falls,
‘cause bushes have eyes in sunlight.
While everyone sleeps in the bosom of the night,
we put on our birthday suits,
and scale the barbed wire fence at the back of the house.
We are now one with the blinding shadows.
We race carelessly across the open pasture;
burrs biting at our tender flesh,
and mosquitoes humming maddening music in our ears.
We tip toe on the dry leaves,
using our hands as shields
to fend off the razor-sharp edges of the cane leaves.
We drop down on all four, bellies on the ground;
we navigate the rows like them American marines – naked and all.
We ate our full,
and Squealie wet the bed that night.
Them sugarcane have a way of making us hyper.
Footloose fell from a Poinciana tree and fractured his hand,
but we stayed energized that fall.