Best Cliff Poems
Intensive spring, her season of flower,
Full vigorous essence, beauty's wonder,
Horizon of womanhood - her power
Intimidated me, mind asunder.
Her lips so soft but pressing pleasant there,
No way could I repay her art's measure,
Such opened passion - more than I could bear,
No full reply had I to this treasure.
She sensed my frailty in the interplay,
All then was lost, the moment cast aside,
Time could not hold the pace, she fell away,
So go then, little boy, you run and hide.
Now decades later, I can only sigh,
Best day of my life, ready not was I.
December 9, 2016
For Sara Kendrick's contest - 'Three Choices Plus Two Which Equals Five Or I Haven't Got a Clue' (Pandora's Box version).
Instincts stored from antiquity
Leather bound books; library in the mind
Beautiful tragic collections and revisions
The conundrum of neurology; conflict presides
Endowed with supreme cognition
Cursed, condemned by the residue of blind drives
Irreconcilable emotional juxtapositions
Humanities ironical demise
Profoundly ignorant, unabashed, and indifferent
Audacious opinions of uninformed certitudes
In the end, passions rule reason
The instinctual beast can’t be subdued
Like Lemmings to a cliff running blindly
Chasing those with no knowledge or esteem
If only one to be the wiser
Perhaps we awake from a really bad dream
The days have been laden with hard toils
Even if they felt like they glided gracefully through dance halls
I have had to move boulders and shake mountains
So as to open my curtains, with a grim face,
To face challenges which further darkened my melancholy
As, since quite some time, my feelings have been
Standing at the edge of a cliff, being at the same time,
Wistful at the sight of the huge waves that crashed down below
But also, gloomy at the fate that I have to carry upon me!
The days feel like a constant battle, so much that my will to smile
Has withdrawn into my inner shell,
And my face, I keep covered behind a shroud of flowers
Caring to focus on what I wish to, rather than on what this world
Had to offer!
Should I shout out to the world that depression is a matter to be
Taken very seriously, I would be deemed as being an attention seeker
And that some shopping spree or some scoops of ice cream
Would readily heal my pain
But then, it becomes tough to describe
The strength that it takes to decide to return to my daily activities
Rather than stand, mesmerized at the edge of the cliff!
It is madness how I write my poetry,
Around me mountains of paper collect;
By candlelight I write with pure insanity,
Until I hang on a cliff of a poem perfect.
It is desperation that I seek the last line,
Oh, mighty peak of sweet writing bliss;
The ecstasy and passion like a red wine,
My pen drips but I am lost in an abyss.
It is craziness how I write in a frenzy,
Around me piles of books are tumbling;
By dawns glow I pen in mad lunacy,
Until I stand on a crag- words drifting,
It is mania how I write my poetry,
Oh, euphoria when my muse is on fire;
All day I ponder my words carefully,
And all so my poem you will admire.
__________________
May 16, 2016
Poetry/Rhyme/Hanging On A High Cliff
Copyright Protected, ID 16-7911-63-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
I stand on a high cliff,
my long raven hair is blowing in the wild wind
and my dress of red presses to the curves of my body.
A green ribbon from my hair is sailing away over the ocean,
but I am anchored to this place -
I carry a heavy, dragging weight that is an immense
burden in my life, how I wish that I could break the chains
that hold me and like my green ribbon sail away over the
ocean, that I could be like a bird drifting over blue waves;
Oh, I would like to explore the world on a sailing ship-
upon the deep blue with no shores in sight,
that would be so lovely to see the white billowing sails.
I wish and dream to be ruled by the winds that blow,
not the heavy burdens of life.
__________________
November 28, 2016
Poetry/Verse/On A High Cliff
Copyright Protected, ID 16-853-641-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to Contest 243
sponsor, Brian Strand
Fourth Place
They have told us the consequences of our actions,
We have been told about the trailing reactions,
We turned deaf ears,
Our insatiable desires have ruled us,
Our voracious longings have
chauffeured us to plunder her home,
We take more than she can give,
We take and leave little,
We rely on the law of replenishment,
Inadvertently bringing to bear our punishment,
We decimate her home,
Leaving her frail and bare,
She cries out for help,
She tells us to read the writings on the wall,
She tells us to ponder on the meaning of the words,
She tells us to consider the impending troubles,
That gloom will bring,
We say we don’t mind taking the fall,
For there'll be a season of rejuvenation,
Her hands will bear us before we stumble,
Oblivious to the fact that we have weakened her hands,
We stand at the edge of the cliff.
February 14, 2023.
Emerald Waves crashing, lapping,
frolicking on the tranquil seashore….
I watch, I reminisce, I close my eyes…
alone, standing on a cliff!
A Buddhist temple on the sublime shore,
chimes soaring from above,
I drown myself in a tranquil reverie,
inspiring my creative imagination.
Aha, I remember my serene childhood,
remember the days when revelling
on the shore with the playful waves,
hear the blithe giggle of my little friends,
each day was a blissful experience!
I stand on this cliff,
there is no noise except the waves rising and falling,
From this height, the world seems an enormous wonder,
My whole life seems to manifest itself,
I feel like a traveller from the ancient world,
walking through the ages,
crossing seas and oceans,
hills and dales of the universe…
Am I walking for thousands of years,
In search of love, kindness,
and inner Peace!
Thousands of baby turtles
followed each other into the sea that day
Where a large turtle-eating dragon
hid three feet under the surface, waiting.
She gulped them down in droves,
enjoying their taste. For it was everything!
Sensitive Turtle had a bad feeling about following,
So she strayed north, refusing to go into the sea.
Her sister got snotty with her, demanding to know
“what was wrong with her”.
“I have a bad feeling,” she said.
Her sister snorted, and picked up her step.
But other psychic turtles who also felt something
was amiss suddenly began following Sensitive Turtle north.
There were a hundred and sixty-seven turtles who followed
Sensitive Turtle that day, they were the survivors, and found
A new sea, one without a large turtle-eating dragon.
“But what if they had found a cliff instead and had fallen off the edge?”
My grandchild asked me.
“Ah,” I told her, if you follow your heart,
If you heed the messages your soul gives you,
You would never fall off the edge,”
I told her. “You would sprout wings and fly.”
Do you hear the winds that speak
Feel it passing by
Was it telling you something
Do you know the reasons why
Setting foot upon the cliff’s edge
One can see miles and wonder
What does all of this mean
From shores to mountains yonder.
Before you depart take another look
See all that you can capture
What were your perceptions and realizations
Did you feel a moment of some rapture?
Seek and you shall find
Speak and you shall be heard
Significant meanings can be learned
Pause and listen to their word.
The winds and the seas have taught
One must make their own choices
Or life will make those for you
Listen now to their voices.
The winds try to take you off guard
Stand firm to avoid being swept away
They try to steer you in an adverse direction
Know the righteous way.
The seas are full of motion, never still
Life is comparable with it changing emotions
The tides bring forth and removes adversities
One can speculate from these notions.
Life is ever changing and so are the winds and seas
Sometimes they are rough and sometimes calm,
What you lose to the winds, the sea will bring back
They will strengthen your life, reach out your palm.
“Sir Cliff Richard ”
I do wish I could meet you, properly I mean,
To actually speak to you, would be a dream.
I’ve been to see you three times during the last few years,
Although sitting watching you almost reduced me to tears,
Tears of happiness that is, I hasten to add.
I’ve adored you from afar, since you were not much more than a lad.
Twice I have seen you at Nottingham’s Royal Concert Hall,
Doing your Gospel Concert, but there were no seats left in the stall.
So up at the very top we sat.
I was scared to move in case I fell flat.
Then you came on and started to sing.
It was a fantastic experience I would not have missed it for anything.
Although we went to see you in October, they had Christmas trees on the stage,
Because the show was being recorded for the Christmas edition of Songs of Praise.
When it came on television, I videoed it so I could watch it all over again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.
My favourite songs are “From A Distance” and “The Twelfth Of Never.”
I could listen to you, forever and ever.
I also like the song you did for Princess Di.
Although when I listen to it, I really could cry,
Especially the words, “All That Matter’s in the End Will Be,
The Love In You And The Love In Me.
With a 20 Year Tranquillizer Addiction, and Agoraphobia,
I’ve Been To Hell and Back.
But Thank God, My Life Is Now Back ON Track.
I sat with 12,000, People at Sheffield Arena, Just to see You,
Years ago this would have been impossible for me to do,
Now my greatest wish in life is too,
Get The Chance Just To Meet You.
The cliffs were the only place she could go to find the edge of love
the only boundry between up and down, of faith and fate,
a frontier where tears scratch slate with bursts of pearl pain
and blood speaks to the sky for signs of passion's flood,
sea below, blue as sapphire lonely glow
churns the tide of romantic violence
salting silence into a sizzle of desire's uproar,
prehistoric granite a partner in the thunder
of her wet tides and his solid lift of sheer ridges
where vertical and horizontal make love in sharp contrast,
horizon rich in ransom of freedom's sweet space hovers
split by a sad pulse within her tired and pretty body,
night moves into day like a prophecy
born in the indigo of her cool inferno
auguring only one thing, high speeds
of love from comet's entrails,
on the precipice of self diagnosis
a vigil begins, ceremony of naked consciousness,
gathering the raw material of her soul
she lights a fire that burns like liquid crystal
waving into the shy truth
of shadows that no longer stand still,
the cliff dance starts, influx of instinct
imparts an innocent intuition
foretelling with ferocious accuracy
the survival or burial of they're love,
pouring vinegar and wine on each breast
she howls to the heights of His affection
and crawls towards the flames
to feel the sweat of lust in her veins,
the animal in her rises to hunt
through the heat, into passion complete,
life and death move her feet,
the pull of gravity gripping torso
closer to the drop of dreams,
a star breeze lashes and lifts
her hair and limbs calling for ascendance,
in a moment of reckless roundabout
she hears His husky whisper
of love with no doubt
nibbling on inner ear,
her heart won't lay still
when His eyes see her as mystical,
there is only one law of love
that she lives by, kiss or die,
only she knows the next step...
J.A.B.
The heaven's lanterns she commands,
The harmony of ocean's harp.
Her moonlit shadow firmly stands,
And merges at the hem of scarp.
As I approach, afraid to speak,
Her illustration disappears.
Alone I brave the mountain peak,
Her cosmic voice still in my ears.
Express'd within the spectral mist,
Her tender kiss, conveyed so soft.
And on her words, I do subsist;
A multitude of miles aloft.
I then behold the sight surreal,
And ponder secretly my choice:
"Shall I take flight? (My fate I'll seal),
Or will I die a silent voice?"
My reasoning was then postponed.
Her beck'ning gaze that I adhere,
Came back to seize my love, dethroned.
Her sympathy was so austere.
I saw the sky, in half was split.
Beheld the universe immense.
Her fragrance rendered counterfeit
In face of harsh liquid incense.
I spied the Owl in the monsoon,
And glimpsed the Lark with grace outdone.
The former dancing with the moon,
The latter weeping for the sun.
And in her treason, I confide,
In holding on to but her arm.
The temptress of the cliff, my bride,
Will keep me far away from harm.
And so we danced on sky-high rocks,
The temptress of the cliff and I.
Disregarding all the clocks
That once beguiled us from the sky.
And on this cliffside masterpiece,
I felt my life was then complete.
With all my joy and inner peace,
I plunged a hundred-thousand feet.
She stood there singing to the draft,
High up that rocky balcony.
With her success, she cruelly laughed
At my stalemate epiphany.
Temptation preys on ill of wit.
So brook your life's pathetic tiff.
Above all things, do not submit
To her, the temptress of the cliff.
I don't want to know what you think of me
Am I your hero or am I you misery
Every step I take is another reminder
That you're nothing but my biggest desire
Spent all day setting up a picnic for two
Ended up sitting alone downing my booze
How could I had thought we were meant to be
You did nothing but infect this perfect reality
Abandon all ships for the sake of love
The last thing I want is a plus one with her drug
On the edge of the no named rye cliff
Is where my heart belongs on this trip
I'm as useless as a horse with no legs
What else is new, I'm just like a needle in the hay
I've held on to your words of the past
I guess it's true that the nice guy finishes last
We talked and we walked in the prairie of life
You were a reason that I wanted to get lost
I could taste the poison from the human mind
You were the only one that could spin me blind
Tomorrow is the day I would feel alive
But that's a nice memory that will pass me by
I'll never have the joy or smile
What's this game?, I'll be gone for awhile
I wonder if I'm running through your thoughts
Turning the pages without the power to stop
I'm running away from everything I've known
All you have to know is that I'm better off on my own
Long ago, a young man was sitting on top of a cliff
Staring at the ocean in a sunny California town
He sees hanging low, an early spring sun on the horizon
Suddenly from the sky, a falling feather appears at his side
The young man gets up and walks over to a nearby ledge
Tucked away behind a bend on the cliff's side
As the waves are breaking gently on the foamy beach
Unexpectedly from the sky, a falling feather appears at his side
A cold breeze, heavy with a salty mist appears
Brushes over and around him with a soft wind push
As he ran his phantom fingers gently, through his soft hair
Sudden there swooped, a falling feather appears at his side
As he descends the steep sand and wood stairs
To the beckoning beach below
The young man looks upward into the sky
Out of the blue, an angel appears at his side
The young man, now an old man
Did not remember anything, just only the vision he beheld
His spirit-soul will never forget that moment
Of flashing colors, sunlight rays and angel feathers
The old man will always remember that transcendental moment
Of the angel he met- DURING MY LIFE'S JOURNEY!
a moss painted cliff
blue water dances into
a white mist below