Best Cast A Shadow Poems
I remember the day I became a poet.
In the magnificence of the submerging sun,
I glanced upon her admiring its majesty.
Amidst hues of clementine and lilac,
her image cast a shadow so serene.
My heart began to flutter like a butterfly,
floating towards her -
finally free from the chambers of my cocoon.
Like a silk scarf, scarlet petals wove a path,
aromatising footsteps that led to her.
Who could this mysterious lady be,
that had humbled such a hardened heart?
Although strangers, it felt as our souls
had known each other for eternity.
In twinkling twilight, I could see
pieces of the moon illuminating through her eyes.
How could I forget how the reflection of her smile
invited me to wander willingly into her heart.
Like nocturnal nightingales adrift in the night,
we sang sensual melodies not heard before.
Sensations felt from her soft satin skin
remain a euphoric timeless memory.
Seduced within the substance of soulful desires,
her enchanted essence became my first poem -
the purity of her existence my eternal poetry.
Silent One
19 March 2018
Sometimes my soul
resembles distant horizons,
like burning stars
abandoned between
dusk and dawn.
When the
sky hangs
as heavy as
my hazy heart,
I search for a sign
from heaven
to soothe
the somber sequences
of nature blanketing
mountains of misery,
as the spectrum of
colors is full of deception.
Maybe the universe
illustrates splitting
sunsets within
my murky thoughts,
As I'm oblivious to
the rhythm of
riveting songs of spring.
I sing
tunes of autumn,
orchestrated in
black and white,
grey refrains remain
locked as an encrypted
mystery of winter land,
within
esoteric hieroglyphics
blowing as
tornadoes of hurt.
I am envious of the
sound of comforting rain,
and clouds
carrying chaos-
weeping reveries of angst.
But what if these
translucent tears
and the anxiety I
try to hide,
fall like
mists of
haunting memories,
to follow the moon-glade,
ruffling along
sterling ripples,
unravelling
jasmine compassion
across rivers of
scattered gems,
would I then feel
the light of love,
synchronize
a eucalyptus lullaby
that sketches
amethyst amulets
through
midnight fears,
to embrace these
fragile dandelion wishes,
behind metaphorical
fields of periwinkle flowers.
My dreams are fading,
whilst darkness whirls
in unending circles.
I am barely breathing,
as the silhouette of
a pale sapphire
shatters into a
sea of sadness.
For you have
cast a shadow
upon the sun
within my mind,
and all that's left
in this eclipsed realm
is the petrichor scent
of healing,
amidst
the dying petals
in my balcony,
that mimic flames of
life and betrayals.
Maybe, it is from
the aftermath of storms,
we flourish rainbow
roses soaked
in redolent incense-
roaming through
an opaque canvas of clarity.
White doves flutter, dying words whisper
Silence becomes haunting as Angels sing
A lone filtered light with its soft glister
Cast a shadow aloft from a dove's wing
This arrow of light pierces the dusk gray
To my knees, I fall and pray for you love
Touch the small casket where your body lay
And seek questions unanswered from above
I found no comfort in your final breath
Forgive me, as I drink this bitter wine
Release me from a vow before your death
As lost love chokes me with its shadowed twine
This poison turns lips into darker shades
And brings a silent dark as the light fades
4/18/16
I have a light within
that I've somehow curtained,
put something in its way.
I cast a shadow across
everything. It is no defect
of the eye but of the spirit,
a flaw I have in me,
a dimming I pass on to settle
the scene and rob color
of its intensity.
I've gotten used
to the dull glaze I bring
that now it appears
the natural state of things.
Even water speared
by the sun bleeds a muted sheen,
no bright splinters of light
ricochet off to be caught
by eyes having to hide
behind a squint, I can take
my reflections straight.
There are moments
when I can feel a tightening
and something within me
stretch and tear the stitching
on a seam. Light pours out
and affixes a patch of life
in a blinding beam, too bright
to hold or keep except
for the afterglow it leaves
on a page or lingering
for awhile on the horizons
of a dream.
i park my car
and i step outside
hoping that the quiet
will help me clear my mind
i always mend this way
but it didn't work this time
cus for a second
i look up at the stars
and it comes rushing in
just how small we are
that kind of self awareness scares me
so i get back inside my car
and in that darkness
that i used to like
i find myself reaching
for the overhead light
i've never felt more scared
than i do in this infinite quiet
i whisper something
just to fill the space
hoping that the sound
will scare the introspection away
"well, on the bright side, this new self loathing,
should keep my narcissism at bay"
i laugh but it is drown out
by the sound
of the tense rumbling
of looming thunder clouds
i wonder how God could hear me
amidst all of this sound
in spite of this
i decide to pray
"Dear God above,
please take this fear away
cus i feel so small right now
could you just tell me that's ok?"
well morning's here
and no sign has come
so if God should call
just tell him i'm not home
i always feighn faithlessness
when i'm feeling this alone
but i looked out my window
at a passing child
who was dancing round
playing with the light
he cast a shadow
though the sun beat him in size
in his shadow
my life flashed before my eyes
and i still feel small
but yet i smile
cus so is the sun
if it can be beaten by a child
Here
In this centrifuge of sanctimony
Where I sip the atrophied air of my ancestors
The shipwrecked tide of my unborn children
Angels dangle from a precipice of silence
Strained by strings of a theoretical God
Sung by eyes of defiance
Which navigate the jagged epitaphs below
Searching
For that one sediment of salvation
That one moment of submission
Hoping he will see
His wonders, atrocities, his indifference
To cast a shadow of conviction
Over shivering light
There
Across the inlet where ivory columns crumbled
And modernity now deftly mumbles
Its fleets of fortune baptized
Nigh the bronze dust of golden millennia
Where history lies with its victims
A fugue of fossilized souls
A silent prayer remains
Here
Barbed Flowers.
I would write this all down to you
If i thought you could read.
If your hand didn't cast a shadow
on what i would author.
If only you had seen what i saw
that i can only chalk about now
but not here - afterall...
Listen? You can't do that one of two!
Not for yourself, not even momentarily.
Patently not for me nor for others,
not for our girls whom have ears
that listen and seesaw.
Your noisy darkness grasps the heart,
plays it like a theremin.
This is how i feel
when you feel the way you do...
like something always does.
Better left unseen, unheard, unread.
Put to rest the thread,
it comes unraveled
when the needle is unminded.
The scent of October,
it's windy fragrance,
i scribe this to myself.
Saptaparna etched in color.
Holding the muddle together
a little while longer... with rusted wire,
I nurture beautiful barbed flowers.
I see that they are grieving,
But I know I'll be ok,
The Angel sitting next to me,
Has come to take away...
The doubts that I am having,
All the pain that I am in,
Forgiving my discretions,
And the last time that I sinned...
The loved ones that surround me,
Drown in tears of disbelief,
As I try and raise my hand,
To bring some solace to their grief...
But the rhythm of deep thumping,
Of my heartbeat thru the bed,
Resonates a fading frequency,
That's slowing down instead...
As the Angel helped me rise,
After taking my last breath,
Took a look into my eyes,
And blessed the body that was left
I don't know just what I'm feeling,
But I'm glad it took so long,
As I float above the ceiling,
Filling gospel with my song...
In the distance I see heaven,
Just beyond some pearly gates,
And I hope the lord is willing,
To forgive all my mistakes...
I'll miss my friends and family,
But dare not turn around,
As they celebrate the life of me,
Without making a sound...
You see there's something deeper,
So someday they'll understand,
When their Angel becomes keeper,
They will gently take their hand...
And point in a direction,
That they'be never seen before,
Which may seem like reflections,
Looking thru another door...
Immaculate attire,
And the robe that I am in,
Will never cast a shadow,
Since the light comes from within...
Now I'm on the other side,
With angels next to me,
Though my body may have died,
An angel set me free...
Morning Star
with your first breath,
wakeful
sunlit of dawn,
a mystique flaming
fire arouse;
ablaze
is casting
shadows
in the new
outlying
mercurial fame
horizon, immersed in
waves
of balmy sunshine.
5/22/2020
Poetry Contest: Pick-A-Title, Vol 18 - Yalto 2 -
4. Morning Star
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Line 1 to 15: 3,4,2,4, 5,3,2,3,2,3,3,5,6,1,5 syllables.
Venus is a very bright star; it is the only celestial body, besides the Moon, that is bright enough to cast a shadow on Earth. It had two different names in the ancient pagan world, as it was seen in the sky twice a day: when the sun came up in the morning, it was called Morning Star and when the sun set in the evening, it was called Evening Star
Precious Life is a Flower
Unfolding to the Sun;
Cast a shadow 'cross its petal,
Poof! Its bloom is gone.
I Take Responsibility:
You gave me many choices today:
Walk away or stand and fight; I chose the warrior's way.
To sit and listen or raise my voice; And louder I became..
Be at center or be in chaos; I spun out of control..
Sing your praise or a war chant; I dug my trenches low..
To learn from actions or to react; I chose to leave my mark.
To see with gratitude or blinded by anger; I was in the dark.
To create harmony or disturb my own; Not a tear would I shed..
To see through wisdom or through pain; And I saw only red.
To walk in beauty or cast a shadow; I became as night.
To feel connected to your wings; Instead I took a solo flight.
To learn new ways or repeat the old; It all circled back around.
To exercise patience or frustration; But I was too unwound.
To walk your road or blaze my own; With fiery gusts I ran.
To waste this day or make it count; Too fast the night began.
Now the day is done and time is gone; Before it's very end.
I feel remorse for my bad choice; May I make amends.
Darlene Doll Smith
orange scattered skies
an awaited breeze
watching the birds
form tree to trees
a thunder clap
we pause..listen..scatter
distance dusk howling sounds
then the unmistakable movement
it slashes, ripping, gurgling moans
just a victim of the game
on top of the food chain
as I walk I cast a shadow long
blend in café ridden side walks
it’s moves are precise
just another prey in life
on top of the food chain
when you move you leave it clues
no doubt it’s on top of you
your eyes dart back and forth
moving from side to side
15 minutes of fame
My life on top of the food chain
It is the way the light
Filters through the gum trees
The way the rows of graves
Reflect a certain reverence
The way the crosses
Cast a shadow
The way the magpies
Drink from the puddles
In those shadows
The way people dress
Formally and respectful
The way young children
Restlessly wrestle with
The somber atmosphere
The way we reflect on
A life that might have been
The way the pastor
Shoes the friendly flies
That makes it what it is.
In the soft wind
And the cool breeze
Our prayers rise up
To resonate eternally
And life goes on
As we walk stronger
Into the future
Of whatever comes our way.
One day at a time
With the delusion of anger,
falling from my eyes,
The veil of bitterness,
Torn from the one I despised,
My heart withers in my chest
The spell that cast a shadow on this beauties shimmering frame
That hid a wonder a mystery this woman bearing my name.
I cannot believe I’ve lived alongside you for so long
And missed the chorus of a lover’s refrain.
We like strangers in the night
Ships passing by on a foggy sea,
Have rediscovered each other again,
Fearful yet wanting, the task ahead daunting,
Forever changed by the crimson stain,
Leaving us equipped in ways we can never explain.
One day at a time, we live for these moments,
One day at a time, is all we are given,
And by the grace of God our one day at a time will turn into memories
That we will share over a lifetime.
Some write for fun
Others write for fame
Some seek to raise questions
Others seek to entertain
Some write flowing prose
Others write quirky rhymes
Some find solace in their writes
Others find only difficult times
Writing is the soul speaking volumes
As our inner self cries out to be heard
Writing is the mind's way of purging
All those trapped feelings and words
So we grab a phrase that comes to mind
And we write on as we must
Never knowing if a gem lay just beyond
Or whether we will throw our hands up in disgust
As evidenced by this write of changing cadence
I feel not constrained by rules and such
Writing to me is an expression of feelings
Although some will conclude I am out of touch
Your writing should convey who you are
Not who you want to be
For if you cast a shadow of deceit
Your writing will appear as just so much debris