Best Coalesced Poems
When the
glacial sun slips
in softened womb
of the scarlet
spheres at dusk,
yearning for
hibernal rebirth
as a lustrous
morning star,
it radiates
golden beams
like lakes of sunshine,
flowing over
chiming starlit bells
in our hazy haven;
and I scrap
frosted flakes
off the bittersweet
pamphlets that
whisper our names
in the misty winds
of 'Us'.
Calming the
coalesced chaos
within my
infernal pulses,
his warmth drapes
this enchanted soul
with daffodil-
smudged days
of hot cocoa amidst
a wintry wonderland.
If I could bloom
like an arctic
afterglow's heart
on bare alpine trees,
I would only
choose him to be
my daylight-
perfumed violet
scent, evermore.
I can never
stroll away
from the shimmering
silverine memory,
when my muse's
trust breathed
hailstorm's poesy in
my solstitial lungs
and kissed the
fractals of a bruised
poet's spirit.
Dreaming of yuletide,
I achingly yearn
to become the
silken apricity of
those soft lyrics
that swing in his
thundersnow thoughts
and frostbitten flesh,
re-writing the jaggery saga
of twin-sanguine-lovers
in beige brushstrokes
of foggy 'We'.
Sometimes,
I forsake to
surrender and
ask for a peaceful
nod from the
'Lord of Soulmates',
can I be the
honeysuckle ink
for my beloved's
watercolor feather,
always nurturing
the snowy twists of
our tale within fate's
untold wisdom?
When I desire
to wander in
black-iced myths of
insatiable agony,
will he become
my bejeweled healer
and fight off those
sombre silhouettes
of Jack Frost's
saudade, like a samurai?
For, I take him
as the gift of
my last wish,
forever inhaling
the chilly secrets
of our lantern-
lives in my
subconscious visions,
that keep me
alive upon
crestfallen sleets
of intuitive icicles;
I want to live forever,
in his pearly eyes' abode,
which coruscates
with glossy lustre
of fireflies and
makes me flutter
my hiemal
white wings like a
spellbound fairy in
grey-orchid sonatas.
The moment I saw you
I fell in love with the universe.
Like raindrops rippling a still pond,
our concentric circles coalesced -
moving past duality and melting into oneness.
Susan Ashley
May 14, 2019
*dedicated to my soulmate and husband, Bill*
~ First Place ~
Contest: May 2019 Premier 5 (Max 5 Lines)
Sponsor: Brian Strand
*The Sufi poet Rumi wrote; “The lover asked his beloved, do you love yourself more than you love me? The beloved replied, I have died to myself but I live for thee.”
Soon after the sky had shed her liquid sorrow
When dark clouds quickly vanished
It turned immaculate, spotlessly blue.
As the cosmic hiss subsided
And the wind withdrew to its unknown hideout,
There was a hush- the hush that follows,
As the priest concludes his spirited sermon.
In that quiet, when dream and life coalesced
I saw the leaves trembling in the cold
Dragonflies performing a ballet in the air
Their wings catching glints of sunlight
Spiders moving round crystal studded webs,
Repairing the broken filaments of their gossamer
And birds from trees taking off into the sky
Enjoying a pervasive sense of peace
And my heart soaked in pure mirth
Humming the lyrics of a half forgotten song
I walked down through cobbled paths
Feeling the wetness beneath my feet,
To savor the beauty of Nature,
Newly bathed in the profuse vernal shower.
Suddenly the light blazoned,
Giving a golden glow to the leaves
And the suspended rain drops,
Glittered like sparkling gems.
Mesmerized by the beauty of the scene
There wobbled shiny silver droplets of joy
In my eyes too, struggling to be spilled out!
Resubmitted for 2022 Marathon Mile.No.15 Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Mark Toney
Placed Sixth
April.6. 2022
A Brian Strand Premier Choice Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Brian Strand
Blood masks the lea, the blasted loam
upon whose breasts soldiers came home.
The earth, herself, held each to chest
the mist of sky killed with each breath
as ruined green became their tomb.
Men strafed by shells and gassed by fume:
cast akimbo, blown to their doom
entrenched, barb fenced; death coalesced;
blood masks the lea.
Eight million French, their valor shown;
most shy twenty lay beneath stone:
Russians, Brits, Italians, Yanks, rest
thirty seven million, our best
slaughtered and listed in old tomes;
blood masks the lea.
An Ekphrastic done as a French Rondeau
after:Flanders Fields by John McCrae
Is it possible to envision a world without warfare?
"Nothing to kill or die for."* No dangers to ensnare.
Imagine living in harmony, where no one does wrong.
There'd no longer be the need to sing Lennon's song.
Imagine a peaceful planet, whirling about in space.
Can you see yourself as part of a new human race?
Sharing everything without need for avarice or greed.
No countries or rulers, for mankind shares one creed.
Can you imagine no hunger, nor plagues bringing death?
Living among each other on Earth and taking a breath
without toxins polluting the air, and no need to pop a pill.
"I wonder if you can,"* see a world sans weapons that kill.
It's 'a brotherhood of man'* coalesced in complete unity,
Earth, an allied planet, lands filled with golden opportunity.
All totally cognizant that coexistence is worth striving for.
'Imagine,' known as a foreshadowing of what was in store.
Perhaps that Utopian way of life exists only in a dream,
But what if Lennon's lyrics did not seem to be extreme?
Would his visions of tomorrow still be called 'hyperbole?'
Til then, mortality of all earthborn remains a sad reality.
May 31, 2022
Unity Consciousness Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
*Lyrics from 'Imagine' by John Lennon
Still could feel the saccharine notes
played on the alluring eyes where I lost myself
for a while.
It flattered the vanity of the mysterious silence
I wished to last long !
The innocence psyche of a stranger
enthralled the shadow of a crimson light ,
shinning towards a unknown desire.
But time flies...
before could open the door of a shadowy charisma,
a ray of canon coalesced into a flash called alter ego.
Everything redesigned here after
and a new hail embellished a new sky.
The essence of the rain drops
introduced with the new river passed nearby.
I became totally bewildered
may be was missing the passionate silence,
that was whispering a lot without making any noise.
A ambiguous music of love
was drifting on the ocean of my heart.
And finally the fragrance of moderated emotion
propelled me to sink into the depth of the river.
Still the river is flowing
and am too with all its up and downs.
I don't know about those eyes;
either closed or hold the story still alive !
Wish them a happy journey with new sight
to greet the soul and heart without any finest sacrifice.
Fortress
Stone by weathered cobble I build,
calloused hands ache in sweet surrender
Mortar’d affection of a coalesced consistency,
mixed and blended, bound by love’s tether
Stacking to heights of protective design
Patterned on roaming hillsides, serpentine wanderings,
Lush green fields crawl, blue sky diversions,
as song birds whistle to the day
And I sweat, my brow now drenched,
muscles pushed to horizonary boundaries,
tattered clothes sway in late afternoon breezes
Still I push on, fitting, finding, filling this need
Something so precious as glistening morning dreams,
crystalline musings, fragile bisque castings
Destined for my world, beyond battlefield dawns,
sifting serene country settings…quiet peace
The long day ends, I marvel at my accomplishment
steadfast and suited to defend in sunset flames,
turrets of observative reachings soar above
timber and heavy iron chain…gated sanctuary
Now my love you may rest…
beneath starry heavens and comet renderings,
upon your bed of satin feathered sighs as with my love,
I have built this fortress…around your heart
**I was listening to the Sting song “Fortress around your heart” and was inspired to write this one.
And for those who noticed, yes I did make up a few words, but I’ll just invoke “poetic license” in those cases : )
Aboard a barque, across cerulean seas,
Beneath boundless skies, chasing destiny's pleas,
Came courageous colonists, yearning to be free.
Dreams danced delicately in the salty breeze,
Eager eyes seeking sanctuary.
Founding fathers forged a future fair,
Guiding principles etched in granite grand.
Hope hummed, hearts held with fervent prayer,
Igniting liberty throughout the land.
Justice juggled scales, ensuring each had say,
Kindness kindled compassion's gentle flame.
Love labored tirelessly, lighting the way,
Mending wounds woven into history's frame.
Nature nurtured, nourishing spirits bold.
Opportunities opened like sunlit streams,
Paths paved with perseverance, stories untold.
Quilts of cultures coalesced with care,
Respect resonated, reaching every shore.
Sacrifices sung in the starlit air,
Tributes tendered to those who went before.
United under a banner bright and bold,
Victories vanquished shadows of despair.
Weaving wisdom into stories old,
Xenophobia's whispers found no space to share.
Yearning yearns for a world where all can thrive,
Zooming toward a future where dreams survive.
For thirst I went to wet my lips
And knelt down by a stream,
My reflection stared back at me
'Twas like a waking dream.
I looked myself in the eye
As it did the same,
Who was who, which was what
Confusion was the game.
Was I kneeling, looking down
Or was I drowning looking up,
I cupped my hands, broke the spell
And hurriedly I supped.
I gathered myself up to leave
As the ripples coalesced,
My reflection began to reappear
Swiftly then, I left.
Entry for
STRAND SELECT 9 ,any form ,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
12/1/2020. Placed=2nd.
In the midst of a forty-five degree silicate sea
Winds carry arid mists
Blinding unprotected eyes
Burying the unsuspecting
Hard waves break on the dunes
Precipitating salty tears with cruel irony
Feet, firmly rooted
Skin, steadfast in the unrelenting midday sun
Arms, outstretched
Right hand, due south
Fingers, arrayed, elements, antennae
Left balances right
Body rotates, slowly
Shoulders
Hips
Balls of the feet
Right arm sweeps the compass
Eyes, closed in concentration
West; sparks of latent inspiration
Arc from distant faulted subduction,
Eyes, open in anticipation
Convected curtains corrupt the clear air
Shimmering over a non-existent lake
Mirrored mirage
Making me shiver despite the oppressive atmosphere
Blurred images come and go
Through the poorly receptive ether
Shapes raising spirits
Smudges dashing them
Despairing grey
Mysterious black
Optimistic white
Bleached and burned
A rainbow away from the memory of hope
Monochrome dreams distilled from coalesced emotions
Abstraction dissolves to substantion
Pulse becomes sway
Refracted gamut of grey
Washes pastels over a hazy outline
Flowing cotton dress
Desire
Copper hair
Passion
Dark bright eyes
Ardour
Heart and soul on fire
Flames of wishing, wanting, needing
Lick the air in every direction
Which way to run?
There is no choice
Always towards
Always the agonizing experience
Of illusion
Not this time...
I plead
In the land titled the Gift of the Nile,
where pharaohs rode in gilded chariots,
149 feet she elegantly stands,
in the sandy plains of Giza
For decades long gone,
shes taken the crown;
"the tallest master piece of man's hand"
a Triton amongst Minnows yes indeed,
if thou not believe,the Falcons do
for centuries gone they scaled her sculpture
high enough to see the land of the saints
years and years casing stones were lain,
limestone blocks coalesced in myriads
to form a triangular figure,
firm enough to outlive lake Superior
senile she may be,
she proves that old is gold!
for even the blind behold her in wonder
she dwarfs her surrounding like,
a queen she's always been
casing stones still encircle her
like nestlings before their mother,
and when the moon rises,
she shines like a figure
from wonderland
and hail to the ancient mathematicians
for designing a figure,
that is food to ones soul
False winter—deceitful—fuels the unrest.
Paris preyed upon; men’s anger coalesced;
guns frame the debate.
Pride and despair fan the unholy flame.
The dispossessed grab weapons and take aim,
do words or actions desecrate?
Twelve dead in Paris—and a free press denied,
mourn for the loss, when faith and guns collide.
To men with no life, there’s only death.
Fathers and mothers, daughters and sons cry;
the workings of men leave no time for goodbye.
Shout, “Vive la liberté” with each breath.
False warmth stirs a hornet’s nest, of dispossessed
on Boulevard Richard le Noir, hate crests.
Guns frame the debate.
Words are warriors, oh there’s might in the pen
what do men die for—ideas council men.
Loss, want, and hate dictate.
With bombs, knives, and guns Europe-wide
strike concern where complacence was decried:
no homes, no jobs, unrest,
societal problems in oversupply.
Your eyes, open your eyes, the dead cry.
There must be more than death.
First Published in here/there magazine UK 2015
Pitch-black night—
scintillas of supernal light
coalesced before my
uncomprehending eyes,
opened wide to survey
endless deep.
Heaven’s milky path ablaze,
as never I had glimpsed—
the Galaxy—
remote, yet beckoning.
I spread puny arms
in tremulous embrace.
Slight murmur—
ineffable—imponderably deep.
And I seemed to hear:
“Gaze a moment more,
and I will thwart your insanity,”
for I was overwhelmed.
6th Place, Brief Unforgettable Moment, Nette Onclaud
Prolific and fertile is this grand Earth, our nest,
and out in space, our Galaxies soundly attest
perhaps life just like ours has somehow coalesced
beyond our ordinary scopes of interest-
or maybe life exists that meets our common test.
Mysterious are circumstances only guessed.
What lies in those dark depths of seas where secrets rest?
These gnawing, stimulating thoughts will do their best
to hold attention to our 'unknowns' treasure chest
assuring long-term puzzles are pursued with zest.
When solved, assessed assured, we will have reached a crest
and we'll rejoice in knowing we have met our quest.
Cascading in a rush
With a vociferous gush
Big drops on the crown
Poured steadfastly down
Amidst lightening and storm
And a loud thunderous sound
Playful restless
With a mischievous step
Banging at the door
Of her little head
A frenzied lot
Of deafening knocks
Raring roaring
Persistent, non stop...
Deftly she caught some
Coalesced them into a poem.
Earlier submitted for
Name of the contest:
CREATE AN IDIOM
Now submitting for
A natural metaphor
Date Jan 20 2017
Writers note
This poem, ( title changed) incidently my first submission at poetry soup last year, signifies the surge of words, a metaphoric downpour engulfing the mind of a poet , deafening in their intensity.The poet's creative skills weave out a poem from this divine gift, rapping at the doors.