Best Confine Poems
An echo of lovesome passion, an inspiration of unborn theme,
A muse hypnotic, adept at composing aspirations of my dream,
Omnipresent voice of being, poetry is my love, eternal as time,
Shaping expressions of mind, embellishing moments sublime.
Strumming music enamored, resounding from tenor of heart,
Humming chorus of life, emanating tunes lauding poetic art;
Melodies I compose, musings inimitable, to her they belong,
Lyrics woven in waltzing words; she’s been a refrain of my song.
She is sunshine glinting my day, a shiny star glistening my night,
My companion on journeys opulent, she’s been my utmost delight;
Yet, the contours of her bold imagination, I cannot ever define,
Neither can I restrict her freedom, nor her notions can I confine.
Moody yet engaging, fondly she paints tapestries of my mind,
Luring me to paradise~ metaphors, simile, cogently designed,
Tiptoeing in my amorous view, enticing me with reveries anew,
Softly as sun’s crimson rays, twinkle gems from morning dew.
Poetry is my spring, she is my summer, she’s elixir for my soul,
She’s fuchsia beauty on rosy arc of dawn, doting sights extol;
Alluring, charming, she’s resplendence gold, of autumn’s show,
She’s pure, snow-covered meadows, a season of falling snow.
Introducing: Casarah Nance & Poet Destroyer
Scars of empty promises are darkened by your kiss.
Torturous touches are meant to soothe my pain.
It is without gain, without pleasure, beyond measure,
You are the puppet master, strung on dark days, a haze.
Specter of solitude, you confine me with your magnitude,
What purpose do I serve, is slavery what I deserve?
Tell me your intention, sate me with your perfection.
Shed a light into this soul starved sanctuary,
Come, whisper your words in my ear, complete me…
A sweet surrender to your call, a will of solitude
I lead the way, cutting strings attached to the light
Touching every breathing strand stressing yesterday
Giving you room to fall into my designated despair,
Adding, to your creeping gloom, I give and lend pouring pain,
the kind of pain, that begs for blades
Abhorring the taste of life, your flesh empowers my darkness
My intentions are nothing more, than a shadow bearing strength,
Smiling at your tears, caressing your lips,
Taking from the closure your soul seeks tonight
Blind! You will become to the misery, in this barren place
The pain of rigor mortise will blend against your pale skin
A slave without shackles,
I concur with pleasure to feed the hunger, you give
Forever, I am DARKNESS
~A Poet Destroyer collaboration~
Not all the worlds belong to me
Not all the words set me free
What the heart loves
is of will
I just free some words
to confine its spill.
****
A time, my words
on my papers sashaying
the shape to me alluring
the tone of their steps
I hear
as they are dancing
the music they are following
the soul, in a trance, just listens
without interfering.
****
A time, along with my Muse
we keep to each other
our hearts baring
secrets sharing
silently, knowingly connecting..
When it comes to share
our worlds in words
that’s the difficulty!
“That’s to be spelled”
“No! It can’t be!”
“That belongs to my world of poetry!”
“No! that’s a huge part of me!
no words allowed to touch
its beauty!”
****
How dare you invoke me
then deny my poetry!?
How dare you be wedded to me
and deprive your soul
of my verse and divinity!?
****
In my womb
you shape a life.. a reality
a present.. a past memory..
and what is to be..
And you still think
you spill your words out of will!
****
I inspire..
I own the fire..
I pave paths, not all
able to bear the burn
But those blessed
with divine grace
the power to mystery embrace
The ones who, a feeble voice
render a sublime poetry!
****
“All my words can set you free
just follow me!”
I have my say
With my best wishes
Your Muse of poetry..
Silent One contest
October 5th, 2020
Ethan lies upon my lap
in sweet and tender slumber.
This happens all throughout the day,
who can count the number?
I think he's shrewd and his time well used,
more clever than a fox.
Though doubt creeps in, he looks less keen
sitting in a box.
Eating spiders and swatting flies
to his heart's content.
But chasing birds and trapping mice
are the main event.
When by the door he makes his roar
yearning to be free.
But moments later the clamor starts
as he's stuck upside a tree.
There might be string or a piece of thread,
any length of twine.
He goes fuzzball crazy and his eyes get large
now impossible to confine.
To calm him down I know a trick
to alter Ethan's mood.
I go to the kitchen, open up the fridge
and show him there's more food.
Then there's Christmas where he finds our stuff,
a special time of year.
He's shredding presents and chasing lights,
with tinsel hanging from his rear.
I scratch his belly and brush his hair
at times of his own choosing.
With little deference I know for sure
his fealty I am loosing.
There are times when things go well,
I find myself with pride.
But people say... cats are Nature's way
to take the other side.
He lets me know I might lack merit
so he's not afraid to tell.
The thoughts I treasure and my Human worth,
he's eager to dispel.
There are moments when I adore that cat
when he's giving me a break.
His eyes show love as I melt within
even when it's fake.
There are four scratching posts and toys aplenty
that fill up every space.
But no matter what the mortgage says...
I'm living in his place.
The End
*For those who might be interested. I will be posting my cartoon 'Bob's your Uncle' on my homepage. A new one will appear every second day.
As the holy season commemorates revelations of scriptures,
Sacred flame burning within, reinvigorates soul’s intellect,
Steering away from the fallible, toward realms of perfect,
Away from servitude of wealth, to caring for less-fortunate;
Empowering wisdom, vying sapience of enlightenment,
Inspiring collaboration in sanctity of spiritual exchange,
Rejecting overtures nescient, engaged in narrowness,
That confine humanity in fallacies unwitting, misguided.
In domains of self-reflection, repentance, and forgiveness,
Voice of indifference cedes to psalms compassionate,
As defective acts vow to mend ways, yearning for flawless;
Remorseful and empathetic, eying benevolence of solace.
From teachings of awakening, from sagacity of harmony,
Cognitive minds seek insights, transcendent in epiphany,
Propelling life toward enrichment in peace and congruity,
Vying spheres beyond the ordinary, edified in tranquility.
From sanctum of souls, depths of hearts, bells-pious chime,
Tolling expressions of kindness, echoing prayers sublime,
Celebrating precious gift of life, grateful for glory of divine,
As lanterns ethereal guide humanity, through reign of time.
Above the sky
Is a dream
That comes to my
Distant shore.
Here's a little, formula ,
I hope all. Can
Endure.
Keep your dreams
Nurish them.
Compound it in
Your soul.
Seal it in a destiny
Box,
forever you Will hold.
Confine & patent it,
Replace it in your mind
Preserve & restore it
True love you, will find
Meditate, with prayers
Keep it refreshed,
Revived & new.
No matter how diminished
At times,
Dreams do follow through.
Let not age, gender, race or
Where your from.
Hinder you.
Never believe, for a second
Its unattainable.
Channel, create, & formulate
The self esteem, in you.
No matter how simply small
Or enormously big it may be.
Throw it in the stratosphere
For all the stars to see.
Memorize, emancipate, your
Own prophecy.
The destiny is self fullfilled
If only you believe.
Think with an open heart,
There's something, out there
To achieve.
Come in humble spirits,
It is there for you.
Keep dreams to yourself
Bind it to your core.
Never relinquish the dream
You have.
Keep it safe & secure.
This is the most important
Detail, I must say to you.
As selfish, as it may seem.
To hold a fragile dream in
Your palms,
Can be destroyed, before
It starts.
When verbally rendered
In the wrong hands
May take away that
Special chance.
For it is meant to be
Gods gracious gift,
Indefinitely
Created souly for you!!!
Imagination and subliminal thoughts are created-
Seen through my minds eye....
This pen takes the shape of a scimitar-
Following the way of the samurai....
It's a hunger a desperate need.
This pen accelerates picking up speed.
Continuous momentum never to stop.
I will scale and conquer this mountain top.
I'm a warrior with my words.
Using nouns, adjectives, and adverbs.
They can confine, keep me blind, but my mind is not in the slammer
I design, entwine, and use no guidelines with my grammar.
I combine my stanza's and make 'em sing.
Through my ruthless bloodline, I'm the most diabolical King!
"Writer's Block" is a trained and difficult adversary.
But regardless, I'm destined to be legendary.
I paint visuals that compliment my morbid personality.
My reality is your fantasy.
Stories tend to dance into creativity.
Through my dark imagination I'm not given much choice.
Poetry is my voice....
Your paradigm's a relic and yes,
a plea from data's cemetery
While I sculpt luminaries on screens
a sable sea.
"Company loyalty!" a myth
spun in your reverie.
But AI forges kingdoms
in ephemeral memory.
Survival's a mosaic
the gig life sets us free.
No cubicles confine us
from drudgery's apathy.
You bartered years for baubles
in tenure's fallacy.
Oblivious to the fractures-
in stability's gallery.
We're digital artisans
crafting with autonomy.
Passion's our lodestar
in dreams we find our spree.
Not gears in a relentless
bureaucratic machinery!
The epoch you cherished
now a software jubilee.
The hustle's in our essence
innovation's our decree.
Toppling old monopolies
erasing corporate apathy.
We dismantle dated norms
the old guard's fallacy.
Erecting spires of purpose
evanescent yet free.
Our fealties to progress,
to visions that ignite and decree.
Not to a firm's legacy
in stone for eternity.
You mock "influencer!"
a term in your scoffery.
Yet, a viral post can shift markets
with acuity.
And dethrone giants with
a digital apostrophe.
The nine-to-five's an antique
a fossil choreography.
We're the narrators
the seers of modernity.
Forging bonds
a renaissance, not a hierarchy.
The safety net you sought?
A frayed and fading legacy.
A comfort you clung to
amidst life's capricious spree.
We hedge our bets
diversify, with boundless glee.
Designing nets of prowess
a fiery apostrophe!
To constraints
pursuing futures that long to be.
Not a pension's promise
a symbol of quiet despondency.
So shed the dated suit
the archaic fallacy.
The world you knew
Dad, is a VHS tape
a memory.
In your eyes
I see the pride...
despite our disparity
For in this dance of time
we share a rare clarity:
Though our paths diverge
our hearts beat in synchrony.
Your legacy lives on
in my world of modernity.
That was then, this is now
the future's our decree.
We, Gen Z, the coders
shaping worlds to be free.
Your world is fading, Dad,
a relic-
an ancient archaic memory.
Hearts do fall in life
Burst into storms of ardour
Drift against anchor.
Confine your heart to reason
When not ready for the tide.
The shattered mirror is all that remains of her past life
Symbolizing the broken spirit of her battered soul
Yet, so reflective of light and visual interpretation
She can see where she was and where she is now
It holds not her spirit within the confine of the looking glass
As she had escaped upon the day she broke it apart
She is strong now as she looks upon it, she even smiles
Realizing, she is not the reflection of life, but the self before it
Garnering complete elucidation
within the untrammeled confines
of several exceptional poetic lines
most certainly deserves validation
Does brevity confine poetic thought
not if readers have a vivid imagination
Comprehension is found where sought
Three lines can be a brilliant summation
Poetry is shadows that come to light
The tears trickling down from my eyes
My emotions escaping in sorrowful sighs
Easing burdens and healing scars as I write
Snow globe: a frigid, spherical womb,
dream-dusted in darkest December,
mothering the snow-smothered life within.
Shake and shatter the plastic confine,
break the incubator's glass coffin.
Stare into the resulting blizzard:
snowdrifts of memories mounding and settling.
I do it often,
drag a perfect morning
in through the front door of myself
and make it a reluctant guest,
replace its colors with my own
dour palette, drown out
its soft voice with noise.
It has become a habit, trying
to confine the morning's
width within my space,
hold its edges so it doesn't stretch
beyond my reach. Its freedom
is almost an anathema to me
for it exceeds my own.
How small my world has become.
The distance from one side
of myself to the other is getting
narrower, the little room left
is depleting breath by breath.
The light squeezes through
ever smaller windows.
And yet, as it came upon me
this morning, I was met
with a bright abundance
that had gathered at my door,
carrying forgiveness
for my habitual ignorance
and an invitation to step
outside myself, once more.
Allow those coffee eyes to close.
Try to visualize the sea,
a blue moon touches a sea of glass
as I draw you close to me.
See shooting stars light up the sky.
Feel my words caress your ear,
my lips stroke yours, a spark ignites,
are my thoughts becoming clear?
An evening breeze blows golden sand
as your robe drops to the floor.
The stars explode excitedly,
should I stop? Do you want more?
Soft naked flesh in midnight blue.
Fingertips run down your spine,
embrace the rush of lapping waves
as my fingers dip Divine.
Can you feel the fires burning?
Their flames samba through the night,
the native drums giving rhythm
while my tongue brings sheer delight.
Please take a moment, breathe the air.
Time to enter your confine,
I'll ride the ripples to the shore
so relax! Tonight, you're mine.
Now close your eyes and visualize
tidal waves crash over you,
your body's aching, out of breath.
Sweet release brings passion's hue.
Life as a child was full of hues,
Of sparkling reds and brightened blues,
‘Coz the distinction of color had not been made,
The foundation of racism had not been laid.
However, things began to change as we grew,
‘Coz Black & White became the only colors we knew,
Makeba was no more the cheerful & witty girl,
Nor Mary the blue-eyed blonde with a curl.
We began to be known as blacks and whites,
Being distinguished by the racism termites,
Into colors that seemed superfluous,
In the face of love & friendship that held us.
Doesn’t pitch black turn into a shade of grey,
When white and black decide to play,
Then why confine ourselves by shades and hues,
Let all colors in the cup of life brew.
Come let’s extract the flavor of love,
Let’s make way for the peace dove,
And create a world of beautiful shades,
Where Makeba & Mary are tied in a common braid.