Best Confidences Poems
In a valley where our hands etched the moon
Through luster of nightfall’s October veil;
We shared confidences through hazed monsoon
As I rambled on, keeping each detail
Of common views…angels, books, a jazz tune
While a serenade for two charmed night’s grail,
Igniting warmth with his presence everyday…
Slowly, we knew this was destiny’s way.
Through persistent journeys, time clasped one spark
Enshrining three years graced by light above,
A pledge to remain steadfast, to embark
On endless devotion crowned by flamed love.
Again, he offered eternity’s mark,
That would seal our vow like heaven’s white dove
And my moist eyes glistened just like before,
“Dear one, fate shall lead us to evermore.”
Love Story Contest For Silent One
Form of Rhyme: Ottava Rima
Re-submitted 11/3/2017
You were a bright, yellow daisy
in the garden of life, so cheerful
kind and accommodating.
I basked in the sunlight of
your tender care and attention
my own flower bloomed and thrived.
Our roots ran deep and grew strong
in the rich soil of our lives
together, you and I, our vines intertwined
but in time...in time, our seasons turned
from spring to winter, and I began to die.
For I was poisoned, slowly, subtly
dying without knowing it, dying on the vine
strangling with the weeds, suffocating
the colors of my petals were draining away.
I gave and I gave, with little return
we shared confidences, vacations
food and family, yet you became jealous
and turned away, unsatisfied, turned
to other flowers, lied and betrayed me
my petals were plucked off, one by one.
How naive was I! You knew what you were doing
you knew, and you took and you took
you used and abused my kindness
and sucked the life out of me.
Your fake flower kept shining, while my
own flower wilted on the vine.
I have faded away, a jumbled mass
of jaded leaves and petals
rotting into the ground, crushed.
I may never open up my flower again.
Written on 5/5/2018
"...The Secret of the Golden Flower is not only a Taoist text of Chinese yoga but also an alchemical tract. (...) it was the text of The Golden Flower that first put me in the direction of the right track." C. G. Jung
"The Golden Flower alone, which grows out of inner detachment from all entanglement with things, is eternal." Richard Wilhelm
does it bloom in the subatomic quark neuron
a flower petals deranged
burning with green rage
dark firmament pullulating infinitesimal quasars
unpeeling layers of nuclear fusions fissions
the blue-blackish greenish-blue haze
is this the eye looking at the eye
which I
between the crushed ajña-eyebrows
under eyes straining to envelope reality from afar
spotty bright grains pulsating in a velvety ink-blue-black throbbing screen
thoughts racing forwards and backwards in time
childhood slights deprivations unrevenged hurts
throbbing thriving on treacherous jabs by of-all beings friends
those who profit from taken-for-granted confidences
the women who dun-you-in
thoughts of a nature to make you hate fate
then the pulsating roving churning dismembering coalescing screen
dissolves
and in the pale fringey opening white furry stripes on the blue-black greenish bulgey bed of velvet
whose I
lights the frigid fire burning dynamo
whose eye
shrivels
reopens brightens
what is it an eye
which stares
shrinks sharper by the fractioned second
closes and opens again
and again
till the pinpoint galactic blackholing centre
bigbangs
the myriad diamondlights buoyed on a myriad-petalled dryburning flowering sun
shedding golden glory
expelling all thought or is it mere doubt
the intense unrelenting feeling of
is it joy
or a fumbling stolen fear
the mental orgasmic relief
the sense of deep other knowing power come face to face
refreshing retreading the worn-out neuron paths
then the return
after the wearinesses
or is it nonplussednesses
to this world
to words
to wars
to waste
to wickedness
a world without wonder
without womb
a world dying
dead
a tomb
see only what you should see
words see only what eyes make belief
even when words don’t mean what they see
© T. Wignesan - Paris, July 3, 1997[Revised May 2003] -from longhand notes: a binding of poems. 1997
"The human heart has hidden treasures, in secret kept, in silence sealed. The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures, whose charm were broken if revealed." Charlotte Bronte
Sometimes I've been forced to wear a mask
to escape from people who continue to ask,
"I know you're keeping secrets. I can tell."
Relentlessly, they harp, push and compel.
With accusing fingers pointed, they attack
but I turn and walk away, never looking back
Though none of their business, they're dying
to learn the secrets I know, and keep denying.
I'll never give away confidences I've been told.
It's a burden that I bear, a responsibility I hold.
Gossips try to discover what I keep concealed,
but disclosures made to me will not be revealed.
Protecting a secret is a promise that once made
must be guarded or risk a friend being betrayed.
I have my own secrets that shouldn’t be disclosed.
It's better they stay buried and never be exposed.
Secrets live in the shadowed corners of my mind,
in dark depths they swim, where no one can find.
What's been entrusted to me, I've vowed to keep.
I'm a prisoner of silence, causing no one to weep.
November 2, 2021
"S" Contest
Hosted by Constance La France
Be assured your gardening secrets are held intact, never to be revealed, due to the magic faerie code.
Confidences among the lilacs are kept through this world into the next one, secured by these flying orbs.
Faerie folk’s unquestionable integrity and trust are rarely questioned, never wavering in any way.
Beware of one teeny tiny glitch in the garden area, where the elves and gnomes reside in summer.
Elves, gnomes, and leprechauns sometimes disguise themselves as gentle moral faerie folk, in order
To broadcast secrets and stir up trouble among the snails, grasshoppers, bees, and lightning bugs.
These charming deceivers will broadcast secrets to gain even an inch of status among the moon people.
The only saving grace is that their well-earned reputation proceeds them, so they are universally
Dis-believed as they simply lack the stellar integrity of the faerie folk.
Be especially vigilant and close-mouthed during giant changes of moon phases.
This is when these deceivers have the easiest times transforming, because portals are open.
Signed: The Faerie Council.
Picture this billboard, with the last line crossed out by a
Giant red X, above which an immature, volatile, vindictive
Mean-spirited, pre-adolescent
Leprechaun has penned
FAKE NEWS.
“Winter’s Journey” (Part 1a)
Out on the ice somewhere,
in a cold banished territory
in a ferocious, hard-biting cold blizzard
a mother Polar Bear
is crying out to her cub
who is nowhere close by,
nowhere never to be seen,
it’s all very sub-sub, not ultra pristine
journeys like this are seldom very clean.
You see, the cub followed
a lying Sea Leopard who spoke to her of better,
more luxurious panoramic vistas.
“When journey completed successfully”, growled the Sea Leopard,
“you’ll have vastly improved life advantages”, all this he relayed to her,
while he took her into his confidences
and delivered to her with a wry smile
a promised parlay,
his penchant for lack of integrity,
such a preposterous pomposity in total disguise.
The Sea Leopard hoodwinked the cub back to the Shore,
away from her Mother Bear
who she would see nowhere, never, no more.
Sometimes the shore is not safe Baby Bear
it is better to trust, stand always close by your mother.
Listen to her wisdom, her truth, it’s a must,
for she is your only mother and she is
made of the strongest stuff.
She protects and defends you always you see -
even when you feel she is never close,
or you think she's lost far out to sea.
You are always her cub,
eventually you'll find her
in all that you see, that you feel,
you’ll remember her stories and
know she was real.
You'll find your mother in your courage,
the steel in your heart,
when you feel you face defeat,
remember the sound pumping through your ears
is the blood she has transferred directly to your heart.
it thumps out in time to you
your own Victory March.
(Lovejoy-Burton/ December 2017)
"Nisi Dominus - Cum Dederit" / Vivaldi (Armand Amar)
https://youtu.be/F_pg6rVkomI
Not all news of its existence brings joy –
a heartbeat is denied the trumpets
instead, news is shared in long drawn
out breaths with eyes that never dry.
A vow was broken long before –
Those nights, when they turn off the light
a silence is broken amidst long sighs.
A creature of habit learns in time certain
vested interest will come to be expected;
promises are forgotten in the dark.
But this is unexpected news; now the light
need no longer be turned off every night.
The weeping stops when a decision is made;
she finds that self-sacrifice does not extend
beyond the sanctity of life. A creature
of habit learns hypocrisy the hard way.
After: Twilight Confidences by Cecilia Beaux 1888
For Debbie Guzzi's Ten Pictures, Ten Poems, Ten Days - Painting 7
Kim Patrice Nunez
14 January 2016
Tanka 9 – Salty & Sweet
confidences shared
imaginings on the air
whispering magic
salty words & sweet red wine
fill the shallows of our mouths
She beckoned me to enter her world of mystery
Incense, smoke and mirrors, and untold witchery
I started walking by her, but something pulled me in
And so I dropped my money in her ancient box of tin
She led me through a corridor, into a darkened room
I followed close behind her trail of sweet, but strange perfume
We sat down at a table and she cast her cards aside
Uncovering a crystal ball with dancing flames inside
Her eyes began to darken as she stared into the ball
She fell into a trance, and then the Gypsy told it all
She talked about my sorrows, my failures and my wins
She knew about my deepest fears and all about my sins
From childhood to the future, she spoke about my life.
The little girl, the soldier, the lover and the wife
She knew about my lovers, and all about my past
And strung them all together like a movie’s greatest cast
Then suddenly, the Gypsy woke, the fire left her eyes
As if awaking from a dream in genuine surprise
Seemingly unfazed by all the confidences told
Dreams filled with the secrets which the crystal ball did hold
She walked me back out to the door, and we said our goodbyes
Aware of how her visions would forever keep us tied
Now every time I want to know what will and will not be
I’ll ask the Fortune Teller, for her crystal ball can see
Can keep confidences quiet
Outstandingly trustworthy
Never betray anyone
Friendship of many
Idealistic and faithful
Delights in being true
Encourages loyalty
No need to share
Tranquil and calm
Integrity in tact
Awesomely
Loyal
Ideal friend
Thank
You
Nobles and soul
They say:
You can buy anything on this earth,
Not nobles, it`s from birth.
This means the simple, proper style,
The elegant way to show your denial.
They say:
High class, great ethics are valued,
Best principles, good moral don`t delude.
At the old edge moral and gentle living,
At the early stages kindness respecting.
We say:
The people are equal from birth,
Nobody can take it from the entire earth.
If you are a deprived, poor and simple creature,
It doesn`t mean that you can`t have the same future.
We say:
Whatever edge we have, the same grave and mud,
The same happiness and pain we have around.
The same place, by all the people can hardly be achieved
In haven, the underprivileged ones are better received.
As soul, good words and facts are the only substances,
God, his love and our faith represent our confidences.
But a noble soul… anyone could have and share with us,
As main character`s feature is love and it will never pass.
*Image of Lovers Night by Pinterest.
Tale of The Night Movers
Hail, a phantom moon
traversing its cloaked
chambered recesses
of her prevalent crown.
Unspool gently and host
minding eyes immersed
within your ethereal pull
exacting Cupid's pursuit
impresses dependably.
Slay suspicious initiatives
yond hints of their riddled
hearts pausing serenity
and tryst capers a fullness
until dawning climbs to a
whispering.
Anticipatory confidences
secure immature adoration,
gift a sense of a certain fling,
for shared planned proof that
sensorial alliance is immortal.
Abiding hearts, minds, and
souls and that its permanence
lingers in all three entities to
be truly entrusted versus all
hardships that dare.
Any challenge purposeth
distraction swayed to disrupt
sanctioned harmony and
impose their nightly fight and
an easy win over the weak.
Lovers supposed union is but
a temporal existence, and
Cupid's aim slumbered apiece,
held in stasis as hostages host
for thoughts to fester.
A mire of serendipity and wished
upon measures of advice, out
from this unlit pullback of the
unimaginative lost, but hail to
the victorious and glorious.
Righteous grit encountering the
opaque influences of damaging
desires to hoodwink the candid
that wore down night's ethical
battle and fortuitous claim.
Justified inevitableness outlasts
twilight's hold by conquering the
gloaming tripped-upon dawn's
call ends nightmarish corps to
collapse.
Cherubs reward a star's chariot
ascent who condones a handheld
coursing and are hereby blessed
with a kiss of permanence and a
dreamt descent.
2022 July 30
A weary tongue, it will tend to wag
With nothing better on earth to do
Than create a stir where none exists,
Always looking for another stew.
And failing that, it will tend to brag
Or look for a rumor on which to chew,
A salacious story it cannot resist
Often embellishing with a tasty brew,
With enough salt to make one gag
Picture sealing it up with Elmer’s glue
For any old cause it will happily enlist,
And constantly embellish another's view.
I once knew one such pitiful old hag
Who wallowed in everyone else’s brew --
Well, actually, I’ve composed quite a list
Confidences say I can’t share it with you.
Written October 1, 2022
I remember in my 3rd grade class our paths first crossed
You reached out for my hand instead you touched my heart
Since then we've built a bond that's unbreakable and shatterproof
We share our pains and we nurse each other's wound
Always looking out for one another in our times of need
So close we are we speak without uttering a word;
We share a language that's secret
We built a wall to guide our confidences and no one can breach it
I bring to you this moment my silent confession
Chiquita Chiamaka Baity, you are my very best friend.
Poem written by: Wole Francis and Chiquita Chiamaka Baity.
contest: Grab a mate and collaborate.
Theme of contest: Friendship.
Date:08-28-2011
I remember in my 3rd grade class our paths first crossed
You reached out for my hand instead you touched my heart
Since then we've built a bond that's unbreakable and shatterproof
We share our pains and we nurse each other's wound
Always looking out for one another in our times of need
So close we are we speak without uttering a word;
We share a language that's secret
We built a wall to guide our confidences and no one can breach it
I bring to you this moment my silent confession
Chiquita Chiamaka Baity, you are my very best friend.
Poem written by: Wole Francis and Chiquita Chiamaka Baity.
contest: Grab a mate and collaborate.
Theme of contest: Friendship.
Date:08-28-201