Best Conversed Poems
you are my air… and I,
the blazing breeze
before the sphinx silence,
stretching beyond
the thunder-struck touch
of perplexed thoughts
as soul whispers in warm waves
letting go of stained stars
~ trace me like
I’m a decaying dandelion trap ~
look into the fixated flames
within these sunset eyes,
O defenseless divinity
my lips quiver in quintessence
to devour the bottomless depth
of your designed devotion ~
the sanctified slivers
of the rising dawn ~
your aura of aromatic aesthetics
carved too captivatingly
to be conquered
as my curved catharsis,
a clandestine curation
no color could recreate ...
I feel the night tighten
within your pensive veins
passively pressed
and paralyzed
amidst the perfumed pulse
of my passionate k i s s
so allow the hallelujahs
of this hyacinth heart
erase erratic remnants of doubt
clouding the clarity
of our conversed confessions
we’ve held
like secret 3 a.m. scars
for I will lead
you and your dusk
to the magnetic light
where language of longing
does not taste
like lament
nor love is phrased
with rhymes of bleeding
thorns and thistles
but becomes a hallowed prophecy
of a kinetic kismet
knitted with bewitching bliss
a gravitational grey
emanating the
despair within
fleeting seconds
as I am risking ~ tripping
everything and anything
to be your eternal mirror
musing ... succumbing ... sinking
the paradise ....burning
for
your timeless pull...
*inspired by the art ; The kiss of the Sphinx, Franz Von Stuck
How do I shed the label
of a white oppressive man
Do I listen to the message
of Obama's "Yes we can!"
Perhaps I'll go out marching
With women take to the streets
Hold placards of "Black Lives Matter"
While trying to feel their pained heart beats
Still I wonder should I feel guilty
for horrible things my race has done
Or would it not be better
If I instead loved everyone
My friends are many religions
Jewish, Muslim, Christian Too
I've conversed with Jehovah witnesses
if you are Sikh I can learn from you
I'm unconcerned with color
or the kind of clothes you wear
I'm more interested in your story
and the heart you're willing to share
Don't see me as an enemy
Just because my skin is white
Understanding will replace our fear
Conversations can make things right
No one wants to be looked at
through the lens of a clouded eye
If you and I are both willing
a different logic will apply
In the end we are brothers and sisters
there is but one human race
Each person wants a sense of belonging
It's up to us to create that space.
Entry for Debbie Guzzi's " What is White?" Contest
Old Clarry was deaf; yes deaf as a post,
and couldn't hear a word that was said.
But he'd sit alone while we conversed,
when we gathered in young Harry's shed.
I suppose old age gets us all in the end,
but Clarry's still here and he's ninety two.
He doesn't need glasses and his heart is okay;
it's just this deafness that has come through.
Then one day at our get-together,
Clarry with a grin had something to tell,
he said the doctors had found him a cure,
and now he can hear us as clear as a bell.
I said to Clarry "That's just amazing;
they've reversed your ears on the wane.
Your family must be over the moon,
to know you can hear them again".
Old Clarry grinned "I ain't told the family,
I don't think their hearts could stand the strain.
I just sit in me chair and hear what they say.
I've changed me will twice and intend to again”.
I never imagined I’d feel this way,
Nor had I ever expected to see,
A gentle soul, one ordinary day,
Have, extraordinary love for me;
A mate I had asked the Savior to find,
After petitioning, He heard my plea,
Like stars in heaven, our hearts he aligned,
Adulation happened quite suddenly;
We conversed and began to realize,
Our meeting was not by happenstance,
We had prayed for love and God heard our cries,
Humbly implored and He gave us a chance;
We’d searched all over, except up above,
Sought help from the Lord, that’s when we found love.
At first, I was not considered or given the time of day.
I was very disappointed for being treated in such a way.
I requested a little consideration, to enter their conversation.
I had more experience and qualifications for that top position.
They thought about me, conversed about me, and then said "No".
No, because they had other ideas for that spot, and it did not include me.
I was okay with that, because at least I had demanded their respect.
Perhaps to appease me, I was given a token position and a title.
I gave it my best shot, but it just didn't fit and within a year, I quit.
Filled with faith and self-respect but no job, I didn't worry; I'm a survivor.
No money, no food, no welfare line, but I found a job to become a baker.
New job, a nice apartment, a nice car; my wife and baby; we were survivors.
God made me this way, and I give Him much praise for seeing me and my
family through the hard times of our early years. Make no mistake about it,
those early years of struggle and toil build strength, gratitude, and character.
Such adversities also prepare us for the latter years.
08302017PS
Thank heaven for my imagination
It's given me quite alot
Danced me through many a situation
Saved me from battles fought
Within my mind lies beauty and grace
Splendor in this world
No need to condemn or ever debase
My fist remains uncurled
Through the window of my eye
I find such wondrous things!
I smell the salty tide flow by
Skip along Saturns' rings
I've visited lots of exotic lands
Built toys with Santas' elves
Played in many rock and roll bands
Conversed with dolls on shelves
Through the imaginings of my mind
I'm driving a fancy car
Or maybe I'm being wined and dined
By a famous movie star
Imagination's an awesome thing
So much that you can do
Fly away on an angel wing
If only you've a mind to!
There I was at work surrounded by a thousand stories of drama, love and surprise
when one of the greatest love stories I could imagine unfolded before my eyes:
They came into the bookstore…a couple old and grand
wearing smiles across their faces…walking hand in hand.
I noticed as they walked the store…their gait was deliberate and slow
and they continued holding each other’s hands…never letting go.
They came in to browse, get out of the heat…look for a story or two
Before they left they stopped to talk to me…as customers often do.
It was at this moment when we spoke that I quickly came to know
why he held her hand so tight…why he would not let her go.
As he and I talked about the store…(he mentioned it’s a beautiful place)
she held his hand, stared at me…and the smile never left her face.
When she did enter our conversation…gesturing with her other hand
she laughed and giggled and mumbled…but she was hard to understand.
I imagine it was Alzheimers…that was interfering with her style
but it hadn’t yet stolen her desire…or her ability to smile.
I conversed with her as best I could…not understanding most of what she said
which meant a lot of looking into her eyes, smiling and nodding my head.
Before they left…her husband shook my hand and thanked me joyously
“For giving her the same attention,” he said, “that you have given me.”
She waved as they were leaving…her other hand he never dropped
and as they left the store I heard him say…”We’re heading to the ice cream shop.”
She seemed to quiver with excitement…the excitement of a child
then gave one last glance in my direction, waved again…and smiled.
I wonder how much longer they have together…
before Alzheimers makes it’s final stand…
But I like to think whatever happens…
they’ll be forever holding hands…
[ Poet’s Note : This is a Companion Poem to my
I AM : 2025 poem ]
“essence in naked soul cannot
evolve Spirit or It’s quest for life eternal
form as veil is mandatory to experience
truth, for every fractal of Great All”
Poet
______________________
through aeons I traversed timelines
dimensions, conversed across realms
realities merged my cloak of bliss
rainbow coloured surged
down from Purest of Pure at His
injunction to experience with
experiment creative powers
~ intellect from higher to lower
wider to narrow — criss-crossing
mind acquired desires, missions
magnetic in hunger to achieve
conceive ~ enfleshed it meshed
wisdom neglected or perfected
for to journey back Home soul
needs ego’s evolving fractal face
density’s grace in cloaks of class
culture, gender, shadows, endless configurations, admirations
sensuous touches fire, water, air, earth
hunger, satiation, poverty, wealth
health, sickness - form is norm, witness
embellished in garments of choice it ascends ladders of sagacity ~ how else to transmute accumulated debits-credits but via robing then disrobing ?
peeling chosen garbs, it fingers light as dark,
vice versa - coin flips dips magnetic
Spirit is infinite form-formlessness
Supreme chuckling creative game —-
ONENESS all the same
eventually the overthinking had stopped
meditation and prayer had settled emotional scores
and bygones became a bright shadow of hope
past performance was no indicator of future success
the Tarot cards merely pictures of a possible path
a fool on a journey of becoming wise and serene
he settled for what was there at this moment
in immense gratitude and with blossoming faith
in his dream he was transported by a yellow convertible
surely a yellow brick road of transformation ahead
and he settled for amber curiosity and anticipation
conversed with Higher Powers to be in absolute charge
he dusted his boots and polished up an experience
that he had not chosen but lead to freedom and mileage
laced his walking shoes and ventured in patience
floodgates had closed once the earthquake diminished
as a rainbow and solemn star in the sky offered guidance
to move on and embrace a waxing moon of departure
destination not yet disclosed one day at a time
Traced undated thoughts
Conversed deepest life's questions
Ageless wit surmount
Mind traversed within
Whilst vibrant colors made hue
Gently asked questions
Embraced each other
Radiating every facet
Life's truest secret.
LOVE AND DEATH
ABAB
Love is a thing which perches in soul
and never dies for those who parts
forever and dies reluctantly for all
those who deal it with dull verve hence finally retards.
Its intensity can never be matched
by any way, any sense or any being
the loveliness of soul which initially hatches
in eyes and finally lead to an undying thing.
The iniciated feeling kisses the eye and lead
the body to shiver and form an never ending joy
joy which increases with senses and feed
the soul with luxury of peerless eyes and soothing joy.
When eyes fall on thine god, a material being
a wave travel from eyes to soul
and leave us shocked and lead us to drowse in feeling
of the cosmic one more beauteous, pretty then all.
A word from her soft coloured lips is treat
for your soul and finally try to speak
to that elf, an everlasting meet
in your brain did relive forever and make thee week.
But when you have conversed enough and all
secrets did revealed, the enthusiasm, the joy, the love
starts to retard and mighty love starts to fall
and fall all thy passions, thy deity thine happy dove.
Your drowsing in happy feeling, thine everlasting thing
decrease by degrees, you being unknown
the thing which use to shiver thine ere being
your love dwindles while thine body had grown.
But after ages when ye become pallid and calm
its assistance ye need or when you lay in despair
in this material world, it seems the only balm
which provide thee love and care.
A never ending charm an ethereal soul
which lift the mortal man from dying and and taking birth
and make life and death traveling journey for all
except those in whose nature there is love's dearth.
AKASH SANGWAN
He was laboriously looking
for that one perfect peach
with soft salubrious skin,
radiantly rounded with
robust, rubicund curves,
crying to be caressed,
coddled and cuddled.
Her bashfully blushing rosy red
cheeks on pale peach skin
immediately caught his attention
as she sat right there for the picking!
Oh, to kiss those juicy joyful
lovely lips, again and again!
She stood out among her friends
who were gathered in hues of green. . .
For she was ruddy, regal
and romantically ripe--his type!
Her body sweetly, softly stimulating,
and so tantalizingly tender to the touch;
Her sensual scent, pure peach!
When he held her in his arms
and she coyly conversed,
he had vestige visions of
copious cobbler on his mind!
After chewing shoe leather they called steak,
in the Pencey cafeteria,
Mal, Ackley, and I enjoyed a winter afternoon on campus,
on the bus, and in a restaurant.
We walked across a puffy white quilt
as students conversed, laughed, and threw snowballs.
I held my snowball until the bus driver told me to leave it outside.
We had intended to see a comedy with Cary Grant,
but Mal and Ackley had already seen it.
We hung out in the restaurant played pinball and ate burgers.
Arriving back at our dorms at a quarter to nine,
Mel left for a bridge game
and Ackley shoved his acne ridden face into my pillow
until I told him I had a paper to write.
I couldn’t write what Stradlater wanted.
I couldn’t describe any rooms without elaborate furniture.
I couldn’t describe sporty rooms
with trophies on dressers and pennants on walls.
My brother Allie played baseball.
He wrote poetry on his catcher’s mitt with a green pen.
He stood in right field and recited verse from his imagination,
in his mind.
He died from leukemia very young.
I fell into a depression,
a garage,
a gym with windows to punch out.
I broke my hands against our station wagon’s windows.
I cannot make a tight fist.
I curl my fingers enough to type excerpts of Allie’s poetry
for a paper that will never be appreciated.
My red headed brother Allie,
such a good natured kid,
he had a good combination of extrovert and introvert,
avoiding anger.
Sitting on his bike fifty yards away
with his hair shining in the sun
as I teed off,
hoping to make a distant green and shoot under par.
Mom had scored a hole in one with him.
I still try to overcome unidentified handicaps
on a hazardous course.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you are intrigued by this work read and review G. D. Master’s book, “Interpretations,” free in PDF format on SmashWords.com. Enter “gd master” or “interpretations” in the search bar of SmashWords to find it.
"Hand in Hand"
My eyelids cracked open to the fresh relief
of a spring breeze much as shades would be
opened the first time after a harsh winter.
Then our eyes met windows to windows
our souls entwined, a weaving of love
She moved amidst the background of silence
Grazing the field of my torso with her fingers.
Using those polite nuances to awaken me
I was gifted with a pleasant consciousness.
She held the sign for I love you indefinitely
We arose from the cocoon of our blankets.
A couple of butterflies trading poses, she still
infatuated me with very capable fingers.
From thumbs to pinkies she conversed with class,
they were the extremities of something beautiful.
Then reliving the anniversary of us joined hand
in hand, she smoothly bent herself in rhythmic sway,
dancing with a touching eloquence from her elbow
up. Her ring glinted occasionally in the light of dawn
sprouting a smile I had when she became mine.
I saw him today
I conversed with him today
I witnessed sparks fly
Please add my snapchat
follow me on Instagram
comment cute heart eyes
A friendship starting
A relationship blooming
We need a ship name
xoxo