Best Choreographed Poems
Become my air,
pursuing my scent
in sweet fragrant fields,
where devouring tastes
of bohemian spirit,
delicately descend
in subsistent sighs.
Distracting the
tones of silence,
from subtle susurrus echoes,
like a tender
sakura breeze
kissing fresh
lavender blossoms.
Set adrift in
shades of yesterday,
dandelions bloom
in flourishing orchards,
prostrating to the
mercy of your grace.
But tread carefully
through
the hall of
dream crashers,
where strange streams
from nightmarish tears,
drizzle down,
composing
somber serenades,
choreographed
from an
enchanted symphony.
For l've seen the
invisible reality,
twinkling across streetlights
of sumptuous stars.
Distance is
an unspoken truth,
just a rainbow
away from roaming freely,
within an
evergreen paradise
above bougainvillea skies.
If this was the last poem,
before my last sigh,
today will be the day,
red of rose will
kill my bleeding ink,
so let lyrical acrolect
of poetry fill your thoughts,
look for 'you' and 'I
in the island of love,
where there's no
thunder without lightning,
nor “sea" without 'waves of us'
These distractions
of desolated dunes
are mere signs
of the wounded warrior
within me.
I'm waltzing through
vibrant valleys of white lilies,
in the hope of finding
lost gravity,
which overcomes trials and trepidation.
l'll always be your
lighthouse on lonely nights,
at the edge of
bioluminescent sand lines.
A haven where your
clusters of couplets,
will transcribe an
alchemist's poetic remedy.
Each verse will portray the
personal poem of my soul,
infused in a
profusion of soothing
cosmic hues.
As raindrops kiss
your face, they'll heal
those lamenting
leather lips-
for you are
the wind carrying clouds,
I am the ripples
crying to touch your sky.
As the glistening jewels
of snow cascade like
ballerinas pirouetting
to the crescendo of time,
choreographed from porcelain
keys of your h e a r t,
delicate fingers of the
winter moon stretch,
enveloping forlorn footprints
of poignant memories,
framed with petal-like poems
you've placed in the
gallery of my melancholic mind
where soulless shadows still~
haunt me in holographic
hues through somber nights, but
If I were to rewrite the anatomy
of this romance with~
juxtapositions, should I rescript
your promises in p s y c h e d e l i c ink?
knit silken sonnets from the
tapestry of scintillating
stars in our favour,
letting go of all the
seasonal silhouettes
that seized redolent rhymes,
maybe, it is from pain
we relearn to dream
in periwinkle pigments to
nurture and navigate through
decayed gardens embalmed in
opalescent tears and fluorescent fears
suppressed and
personified within gossamer
tales of sunflower s i l e n c e…
Quilted with questions that your
quintessential quill can~
reveal, in romanticised verses, to wade
through the abstracts of weary woes.
So, set your stones to
architect cobalt grey lanes,
to usher feathered thoughts into the
serenity of your scented sanctuary.
until I find the perfect gateway
adorned with crystals in the
verdant valleys, engrossed in vanilla flakes,
where cosmic yearnings are embroidered
between mauve instruments
harmonised from
xylophone whispers reverberating
in vermilion s t i l l n e s s…
You will always be the
clementine crown of my sun,
the scarlet scrapes in my ink,
zested in zealous dahlias
and no rain can drown
this celestial
c o l l a b o r a t i o n…..
I like to exercise my mind, but how I hate to work.
Whatever needs exertion is the action that I shirk.
Labor with the brain is fine. I do it all the time.
How I love to sit and read or think of words that rhyme.
But send me to the bathroom with a brush so that I'll scrub,
and I'll barely rub the ring off. Then I'll lie there in the tub.
Peek inside; you'll find me, a novel in one hand,
resting as I'm soaking in my own little Bubble Land.
Clean the oven? What a joke. The most that I can stand
is loading up the wash machine (a task that's merely bland).
Maybe run the vacuum once a week across the floor,
and quickly dab where dust is bad; most stuff I ignore.
As my jobs all pile up, housework's even more a chore.
Why must work that's physical be such a dreadful bore?
My well-ingrained aversion to utilizing muscle
does have one exception: at the gym I like to hustle.
To kick box is so fun although it makes me sweaty.
Step and dance are choreographed. For those I'm always ready.
But I wish that just as quickly as from running on a tread
I could burn up calories doing workouts in my head!
You tried to win her over
with dark chocolate and daisies
Passion on beds of clover
always works with the ladies
So why her indiscretions
She revealed it with a sigh
You didn't ask the right questions
the rule book doesn't apply
See beneath all that glitters
her cool choreographed style
It's not hidden in twitters
try looking beyond her smile
Her love you cannot purchase
She can sense if you are fake
Do not play on the surface
dive down deep into her lake
Once she's truly discovered
surely passions will run deep
The depths of her uncovered
whispered secrets you must keep
She'll give you what you wish for
there is magic in her soul
If you just reveal your core
together you will be whole
Don't ever try to change her
that person she'll never be
If you try, she'll leave for sure
for that girl needs to be free!
Contest: "Men your advice to another man on females"
Sponsor: Brenda Chiri
Written December 18, 2018
We are all strippers on a stage
choreographed of broken dreams.
Our materialistic schemes
drown values in whiskey bottles.
We are all strippers on a stage
who put down our pillow case veils,
dawned a garter belt, sold our souls
for the price of our panty hose.
We are all strippers on a stage
who can not keep with this life style:
with nights too long and days too short,
where a candle burns on both ends
a center burns out; we sell out.
We are all strippers on a stage:
vibrate and shimmer for dollars,
feed this addictive scenery.
(modified quatern)
If I never write another poem again
Will you remember me
All the parts of my heart I exposed
The morsels of my soul
The intricacies
The pain
My manufactured pieces of joy
Humor
Wisdom from a fools pen
Stains dripped from a troubled mind
I sit here with head in hand
Looking at a blank page
Fearing I have nothing left to say
Coaxing my brain to respond
Drip
Drip
A word
A corresponding heart beat
An image projected
Displayed
Choreographed
Spinning
Coming to life
I wish you to reach out
Take it in your hand
Feel touch
Smell
live within the space
Allow the idea to expand
Grow beyond a page
Put leaves on my trees
Climb my branches
Drink from my streams
Add color to my rainbow
Breathe through my lungs
See through my looking glass
For if I never write another poem again
I can sigh and say
It has all been worthwhile
You heard my call
Responded
Understood
Seen the previously unseen
Walked along my landscapes
Left a part of yourself
Drank from my cup
Sat at my table
You my honored guests
The one I will remember
For you are the reason
My pen drips and my heart smiles
You help me remember
To see
To believe
One word at a time
Entry for PD's Free Verse Contest
Shadows will absorb burdens of death’s hour
where the brightest lights reach, touching my soul,
and I’ll follow, a choreographed stroll
through time, feeling love’s eternal shower.
While the heartbroken grieve and angels sing,
Death will come at night and shine like morning.
The last breath drawn will be deepest, journeys
new with all the love I have ever known.
My father, leading by the hand, will show
truest joys, reuniting family.
While the heartbroken grieve and angels sing,
Death will come at night and shine like morning.
When darkest thoughts of death come to my mind
and tears, heavy-laden, fall from my eyes,
clouds may gather but not for days gone by.
I may cry for cherished souls left behind.
While the heartbroken grieve and angels sing,
Death will come at night and shine like morning.
Written 12/5/14
Received HM in Death Shadow Contest
Through the water they glide,
an immense mosaic of millions of silvery fish
on their migratory run,
obeying a call immemorial,
a mystery of aquatic unison
choreographed by instinct primordial.
They billow,
a grainy smoke cloud
in which light drowns.
A ruffling,
like an enormous bedspread
being shaken out in slow motion
by an invisible giant.
They turn into a mesh,
glistening, spinning around, tightening,
a net woven with fish for catching water.
They stretch,
a submerged galaxy
unspooling into a braided rope
in a blue universe.
They bank,
and silver ripples across the shoal,
a wheat field touched by a soaking breeze.
Then they move on,
flashing by,
like underwater rain falling sideways.
Before the predators get to them,
my eyes are feasting.
For a second there I saw you smiling
I must admit I am wondering why
Things you've gone through are so appalling
They break my heart and make me want to cry
Yes you see my choreographed smile
it’s there to hide, what’s buried deep inside.
My heart’s shattered like a porcelain tile
Within me I feel the sharp shards collide
I see emotions leaking from your eyes
Speak your demons discover your healing
Dismiss false words and other people’s lies
Validate all the things you are feeling
I have come to grips with my own mistakes
From the demons I have found some relief
Sadness permeates me my body shakes
In time good will come that is my belief
I can see now how your smile meets your eyes
Doors have opened beyond a life of pain
Your true potential you now realize
All things within reach freedom once again
I feel I was given a second chance
Although I miss those I’ve lost on life’s way
I choose not to live my life in a trance
Innocence reclaimed I’ve learned how to play
By: Brenda Chiri & Richard Lamoureux
Thanks Brenda for collaborating with me on this piece. It was a pleasure writing with you.
Around their solar father, planets circle in space
Each traveling the celestial realm at its own pace
But there is one he seems to dote on most of all
She's a lovely ballerina, dancing at the Galaxy Ball
A tulle skirt she wears in the guise of glittering rings
Moving in the black velvet sky as if she has wings
An endless performance choreographed by the stars
to music played by its moons, heard far away as Mars
Saturn shines like a beacon in the vast Milky Way
like a beautiful prima ballerina twirling in a ballet
Regal is the celestial sphere in her graceful pirouette
Bowing after a presentation no one could ever forget
His Majesty, is delighted and with a warm applause
He nods to his favorite child... in her he sees no flaws
He would place a crown upon her, made of ice and rock
and gift her marvelous gowns to adorn her as a frock
He cannot get near enough to embrace her in his arms
Enamored by Saturn, Ra is quite smitten by her charms
With human eyes, she appears buttery yellow and pale
Perhaps her constant dancing leaves her tired and frail
I would honor her with a poem, an ode in which each line
tells of her grandeur or write a song that would be divine
Far away, she may be but still mesmerizing to my eyes
Saturn, a distant amber gem, dancing amid starry skies
Canvas of Catastrophe
An outcast portait of society
Public opinion timidly restrained
Descriptive world of psychotic anarchy
Borderline genius, brilliantly insane
Artificial imagined ancient discovery
Sacrificed human, silenced little lamb
Red drifted mist it's as thick as thieves
King of the Dead, Queen of the Damned
Perfect people dancing in puppet strings
A choreographed movement of the masses
The artists painted canvas of catastrophe
dead people buried below green grasses
Secret genetic DNA coded re-structuring
Designer drugs for a euphoric state of mind
left to watch planet earth fight its catastrophe
Sitting in front row seats atop of cloud nine
Poem Revised @ 10/26/17
Entered into contest: "End October Premiere Contest"
Hosted by: Brian Strand
Ancient Alien Earthman
Captivating galaxies numbering more
than grains of sand carpeting a shore
Spheres orbiting stellar giants of yore
a plethora of exquisite jewels and ore
Humans should revel in their inclusion
amid a choreographed mystic creation
Flawlessly crafted objects of perfection
an orchestrated symphonic conception
Corroded vision envelops bigoted eyes
antediluvian blinders befuddle the wise
Deep consternations must be liberated
dread of unknowns willfully annihilated
Distant worlds peculiar and enchanting
purple skies bring snowflakes in spring
Hopefulness aroused by emerald moon
patiently await solar heat not monsoon
Wanderlust evokes interstellar journeys
light years away towards a dark furnace
Emanating celestial wonders exude elan
Starman greets Ancient Alien Earthman!
3/21/2022
8:20 p.m.
Lake Worth
Florida USA
Current Events
Frozen pants dance stiffly
to the mad beat of sapless
drumsticks choreographed
by a wicked whimsy of the
winds baton. Birds cling
tightly knowing that if the
gale subsides for but a moment
they will fall over, be blown
like feathered fur balls on
lone unchartered trips. Cats
hiss in meek response to
whistling whine of wind’s
failed grasping at the trees.
Children pick up speed as
parents chase them through
the cyclones of debris
quick swept by nature’s
crazed custodian. Hats,
hang glide in mocking
merriment above the tousled
heads of their former captors.
Skirts balloon Monroe like,
fashion’s flair taking on airs.
Trash can covers play Frisbee,
as barrels beat steel drum staccato.
This wind, this rush of Winter
clearing the table, cleansing its palate,
preparing us for the next course.
John G. Lawless
1/25/2014
The Lying Tongue
sang a song
The Flattering Tongue
played along
The Know It All Tongue
intended the composition
The Meddling Tongue
held it's position
The Harsh Tongue
kept quiet for once
The Tactless Tongue
reluctantly obliged
The Rude Tongue
got annoyed
The Loquatious Tongue
was soon overjoyed
The Discouraging Tongue
hummed on
The Self-Depreciating Tongue
became withdrawn
The Argumentative Tongue
thought it all wrong
The Boasting Tongue
thought it right on
The Hasty Tongue
felt it was contrite
The Discouraging Tongue
and all this singing
The Indiscreet Tongue's
awkward whistling
The Complaining Tongue's
plodding drone
The Cursing Tongue
let out a no-no moan
The Judgemental Tongue
liked that a lot
The Self-Absorbed Tongue
rolled it's eyes
The Retaliating Tongue
held out a hat
The Intimadating Tongue
offered a prize
The Cynical Tongue
just laughed
The Accusing Tongue
choreographed
The Gossiping Tongue
signed autographs
The Doughting Tongue
crooned the refrain
The Accusing tongue
blasted the blame
The Hasty Tongue
fanned the flames
So the Belittling Tongue
dismissed the party
The Devisive Tongue
composed the ending
And the Silent Tongue
looked on.
* All tongues borrowed from
I am full
Of emptiness
I long for longing
Crave contentment
The insensate pain
Of intangible touch
Indecipherable ciphers
Choreographed madness
Craggy comfort
Of blunt condolence
The decorum of anarchy
Deserted crowds, social solitude
Miles given to intercept steps
At the dawn of abundance
I see only
bones of ghosts
Whose meager admonishment
I forgot to unlearn
Unredeemed
And unrepentant
I am in love
With loneliness.
9/20/19