Best Conspires Poems
All I Have in Life
My joyful 'witchy' friend
thinks only good of ev'ryone
She taught me how love works
conspires constantly with angels;
captured my soul in water colors
She's the true spirit of friendship
My two sensitive new friends
have allowed illness to intrude
and all I have to give them
are paper orchids and good wishes
and butterflies of poetry
Now I hope they listen to their inner truths
They are the reasons for friendship
Then there are my false friends
They faded like fog from daylight
They mystified me, made me feel regret
I try, to seldom think of them
For they were not friendship
I have friends who are
drama queens, they add 'delight,'
my favourite word, and often they
can be as distant as mountains
and as purposely absurd
I treasure moments with them
They are the poetry of friendship
I have friends whose children revolve,
like tiny planets, around them
I have friends filled with passion
too deep for expression
and some who never seem to lift their heads
above clouds of depression
They are the longings of friendship
I have friends whose expectations,
I failed to live out, and so they left
I have friends in far away places that
I'm always promising to revisit
I have friends with whom I share a perfect affinity
but with no time left over to spend with me
They are the lost potential of friendship
I have had really good friends, until
our lives drifted apart and all of our longing
we kept hidden in our hearts,
expressed in imaginary cards
and letters we often failed to write
They are the regret of lost friendship
For me there can be no end to the cycle
of friendships -I am certain
For all I have to live for
is my friends.
Suzanne Delaney
The point of no return could be global or individual
but never is it in the middle.
It is a horizon of dreams aloft in hope held by tentative
strands of rope that weaken and deny what hearts are
seeking. It is love, stirred with hate that drips need to
bleed us, heal us and force our tired cope. It is a circle
never ending, a line never bending, and it holds questions
with no answers, like keys to kingdoms none can find to
turn or master.
It is that door, the door, where dear ones come and go,
ones who carry joy, hold us, love us, then, in time
they lack reasons to feel or the want to know us, so, no,
I mean, yes, it is not long-term, strongly rooted trust.
It is a strange, bewildering, momentous fuss that boils in
us until we bubble up our filthiest cuss.
It is same attempts in a familiar game of strange
ranging from old to presentations tweaked as new
that leave us standing without scent of a clue. It is
the reason creating all things we do and the matter
with our universal supply of glue. It is your craziness
fondling my insanity, too.
As a match, it does flame fan mankind’s fire to rise in
heat stroked red curls ever higher. It is the silence
that secrets our desires and the stillness of hush-laced
conspires. It causes human hands failed attempts to grab
sky-warm, star blankets, not to be human had.
It is a riddled fear maze forcing us to run, to race by men
with aimed happy guns, to quick stride far from addicts
selling sons and slowly consider embracing those we have
shun as we forgive ourselves for all never seen done.
It is another day, and, say, someday it might not come.
The lights have fallen
to nightbreak.
There, on the sharp horizon.
Cracked open.
Leaching
pastel peach...
(Or is it apricot?)
...into the dimming blue.
The moon,
two stars -
aligned,
in a line.
Three drops of rain;
frozen in their falling.
An overnight shower,
lasting longer than it did...
By the tiny grace
of an unseen spider;
her webwork
holding these three,
three pieces of rain -
up to the fading moonlight
as dawn conspires to interfere
with the colors she is daily born in.
The white brings blue.
The day brings night.
The night brings dew.
I long for you.
In the long days,
in the longer nights.
In the dark,
in the light.
If I’m lucky,
in my ache,
I’ll be suspended
for a moment more.
Between heaven.
Between earth.
Consumed by starlight.
Embracing dark, forestalling dawn.
Awash in moonlight.
News flash
Paris attacks;
Violence strikes
~~~~~~~~~
Innocent deaths
Terror unveils;
Death delivers
~~~~~~~~~
Madness conspires
Human debris;
Bigotry unleashed
~~~~~~~~~
Evil men scheme
Distorted agendas;
Self-destruct roams
~~~~~~~~~
Good people die
Bloodbath escalates;
Terror unleashed
~~~~~~~~~
Signs of our times
Deceptive turbulence;
Mortal casualties
~~~~~~~~~
Moods swayed
Fear catapults;
Distorted means
~~~~~~~~~
Uneasy chimes
Violent crimes;
Explosive times!
~~~~~~~~~
Details of gore
News galore;
Killing fest
~~~~~~~~~
Retribution
Constitution;
Revolution
~~~~~~~~~
Sorrow sums
Deadly outcomes;
Cruelty strikes
~~~~~~~~~
Newsprint copy
Headline news;
Terror firms madness
~~~~~~~~~
Propaganda hurls
People fodder;
Bombs and bullets
~~~~~~~~~
Create if you must
Lodge your complaint;
Body bags not included!
~~~~~~~~~
Atrocities
Exclusive news;
Pain sells well
~~~~~~~~~
Face to face
Terror redecorates;
Body debris trophies
~~~~~~~~~
Why do you do
The things you do?
Tell me
~~~~~~~~~
Love hurts
Violence hurts;
We all hurt
~~~~~~~~~
Precious times
Ransoms forfeit;
Sad humanity mourns
~~~~~~~~~
The cycle of circles
Bad and good;
Seeking balance
~~~~~~~~~
Maybe we can
Find tomorrow;
Safely better?
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
15 November 2015
Singapore
Mindless the mission with visions unseen;
Open to wonder that transcends the pure;
Rest beyond tension the friction that weans;
Embrace the thunder that creates allure.
Time after time we hurl unsure wild complaints;
Reach within a whole that stumbles to show;
Urge ferments bold twirl in funny restrain;
Entice playful soul to dance swirling free flow.
Give zest sure blooming in growing grooming;
Rise to tact's venture that conspires within;
Invoke calm knowing in showing feeling;
Touch flavours texture as act puzzles win.
Bring your fond loving to lively motives;
Empower sure living with timely festive.
Leon Enriquez
24 Apr 2014
Singapore
(Note: This poem is an Acrostic Sonnet.)
Edmond’s Alternate Ending
I am about to move
Though I’ve yet to move on…
…now that I’ve moved on
Or was it moved back
I found all the lack
In my alleged desires
A mind of loss conspires
For redemption, or revenge
My vengeance consumed me
Began to eat me whole
Til I realized I was the one chewing
And the graves that I was digging
Were nothing more than holes
So I stopped biting
And recovered the Earth
Won’t belittle myself by fighting
Or lower my self worth
Stooping to do battle with the trolls
I’ll just let them dig their own holes
Your soft blue eyes
My invaluable prize
Your rain blue sapphires
My hearts will, conspires
Your sacred wishing wells
My love found, in your spells
Your calming reflective storms
My emotions turn to you in swarms
Your lenses of perfect cerulean sight
My resistance, not given in the slight
Your diamonds in the planets of snow
My affections infinitude made to show
Your crystal filled orbs of cobalt & indigo
My dreams fulfilled by those you bestow
I saw you in a dream I never had
sitting on a bench
in a depressing slouch
face strangeld with tears
I saw you in the days that are gone
swept away in the receding tide
during the duration of a colorless setting sun
a sad song sung that day
I saw you in the tears I've never shed
screaming to break free
desspretely seeking shelter from the storm
regret stabs at a broken heart
I saw you a thousand times today
though not figureaitve
a fatigued source of thought,
conspires against the truth
I saw you in the eyes of the others
heard your voice above theirs
as I wished that they were you,
my perfect painted picture was destroyed
all aspects of our self
beauteous is each hue
bubbling spontaneously
letting vibrancy renew
undiminished is elation
equal are dark and light
for God is omnipresent
heightening bliss delight
every breath is a miracle
as is rhythmic heartbeat
the vast void conspires
that love may love greet
unfettered like the breeze
soma nectar freely flows
all nodes within come alive
as rapture unbound grows
07-February-2023
All Bottled Up
Bottlenecks are one thing driving down the road
Making one late for work is another
Cumbersome, slow and an all time low
Containers made from glass have their ups and downs
Mostly downs we’re told
Their poisons kill aristocrats, the poor, poets known and unknown
Highs and lows are surely going to come
From bottles filled with rum
At first a happy swirling drunk
Becomes laid out sad and dumped
Delicious wine waits for me when I get home
The matter is getting beyond the cork and glass
Such troubles are these things
Bottles simply have no class and make me wince
To obtain the treasure there within
I have to use the cork screw
But bottle with evil intent conspires with the opener
Will not help me or comply to let me in
What’s the use? A hammer will have to do
Other bottles from long ago held potions, magic, and snake oil brew
Fluids ran wild in the old west causing more deaths than cures for sure
And no one had a clue it was the containers that they used
When shipping bottles made from glass
I have to label “fragile” and send them 1st. class
The ebb and flow and pour from every bottle
Illegal in Prohibition times
Caused many alcoholics to cry
I guess that was a crime
Consumers today can fill their glasses free from thought
From decanters, jars and urns that carry their own weight
Someone with a bottle will always be around though
To hit me on my head for something I might say
And if the bottle breaks, someone, (I'm guessing me), will have to pay
5/19/14 Slamming Battle Round 2 contest
Betrayal is a bitter poison
Hearts that love sometimes endure
At times there is no reason or rhyme
Yet, it always cuts deeply for sure
Betrayal is the bitter potion
Served by your sweetest desire
No reason or rhyme is there at times
Some will say the universe conspires
Betrayal is the unexpected
Un announced, knocking upon your door
At times there’s no reason or rhyme
It causes mayhem; it kills the joy
Betrayal is a silent killer
Insidious, it creeps in your bones
No reason or rhyme is there at times
Beware, it's a demon on the roam
~*~
01/01/13
Beneath the silent, cloudless skies
The Spanish Galleon swiftly glides,
For the Spanish Queen Isabella, in distant lands,
Its mighty mast’s unfurled by strong and sturdy hands.
She swiftly sails through churning tides.
Crashing waves reveal its mighty rage as God decides.
Pay’s no heed to thoughts so grim; setting of another day.
While through the night mariners taste salty ocean spray.
And sees a western sky afire; a momentary pleasure.
In her hulls; heavy chests filled with golden treasure.
The mighty ship tossed about by wildly western winds.
Amid reckless storms, the mariner’s inward strife begins.
Cursing winds summon demons of the mystic sea.
Ah, the sea, the sea, hear this haunting song, now death shall be.
Alas! Alas, the thundering fury; the dudgeon storm loudly roars.
The Galleon heaves and pitches while stoic sailors’ spirits soars.
True to her course the ocean battered this hapless Spanish Galleon.
The Spanish Galleon sunk by the ocean dudgeon.
The ocean’s wrath conspires sending the mariner to a watery grave.
For the mighty ocean imposed her will and not a mariner saved
"Short Night of the Dark Christmas"
short night of the dark Christmas
means home alone, for some,
but heck get real,
no one
is truly alone, never,
even when reality conspires
to suggest
otherwise,
close your eyes
open your mind
one sits with the other
invisible
permanent, immovable
the mind mulled again
the externals fixated
titter on
your mind is closed
to their superfluous noise
yet in touch, aware
of higher things
not alone,
no never
alone
inside
one has to always,
give -
happy birthday
dark Christmas
shining star,
removed.
aware
of higher things
(LadyLabyrinth/2023)
24.12.23
at Christmas, 2023
“One day, you are going to hug your last hug,
kiss your last kiss and hear someone’s voice
for the last time.
But you never know when the last time will be,
so live every day as if it were the last time
you will be with the person you love.”
“This Christmas,
we don’t need more stuff.
We need more LOVE
towards one another.”
THIS is my Reality, There are many like it, but this one is
mine,
My Perceptions of it are my best friends and "enemies",
For this is my illusion...
... I must master the balance of my emotions,
My reality, without yours is useless, For lack of mine, yours
seems useless,
Thus inspiring coexistence,
I must evolve my reality anew,
I must shoot straighter than anyone whom conspires
against me,
I must bless ye, lest ye confuse me,
I WILL...
My allies and I realize that what counts on the subliminal
battlefield,
Are not the rounds fired or the smoke they create,
We understand that it is the hits that count.
We WILL win this war…
My reality is of my own design, JUST as I, therein is MY
conception,
Thus, I shall fear no “evil” along the path in the valley of
confusion...
I understand its’ weaknesses, it’s strengths, its strategies,
its accessories,
its sights and its intentions.
I will evolve my reality clean and ready, as I am clean and
ready.
Before God I swear this creed...
My perceptions of self are the defenders of my reality,
We are the masters of thine "enemy", We are the saviors
of mankind.
So be it, until the illusive veil of existence is drawn back
and thine "enemies" subside.
Courage to change the things I can
~Zachary Allen Jackson~
"Sinless Moon"
Moon illuminates
dark shadowy silhouettes
clandestine coteriere' *
Moon anticipates
lovers secret rendezvous
bramble bush conspires ...
Moonlight masquerades
expose' of evening sin
Full Moon sips mirage
*For Joe Maverick's Haiku Contest ...
*coteriere denotes a set as a couple.