Best Coursed Poems
The moonlight bathed her cell in pallid light while she sat hunched over her desk, clutching her pen between her confound fingertips. As she bled ink of symphonic symphonies yearning to break free, dancing like ethereal fireflies in the dusky barren lands.
Exiled by the hypocrisy of bureaucracy bounding her liberations and confounding her alliterations in a poetic prison. In this twisted virtual reality, duplicitous usurpers roam freely, weaving webs of deception with malicious delight.
As the chains of bureaucratic red tape clung to her delicate wrists, suffocating her imagination and confiscating her freedom of speech.
Oppressors rejoiced at achieving their vindictive objective, silencing the profound beauty of her verses and incarcerating her poetic stanzas
Woe, how the audacious bars of administrative constructors cast a pall of despair upon her unifying spirit. Her delicate offerings of metaphors and sonorous stanzas, whispered secrets which craved to be heard.
The faulty haters' impervious hearts were armoured with verdant envy which remained shielded behind the ruling dogma.
Her supporters calls of injustice to be rectified fell on deaf ears while the galvanizing melodies of empathetic quills bled for the Empress of Ink.
So we must be louder.
Hear our protest, release our Empress! Unsheathe her rhythmical rhymes! For her penmanship was never the true crime. She was just another victim of an envious mob.
Can they not see? That her absence coursed a crater larger than the Grand Canyon.
We shall not, shall not be silenced so hear our mutiny!
Reinstate our Empress, restore her creative sovereignty.
Remove the shackles of authoritative administration, as her voice is a beacon of truth, resilience and poetic revolution. So let her ink stain our community with its brilliance once more.
Categories:
coursed, community, friendship love, imagery,
Form:
Spoken Word
I put on your shoes
Tried to walk a mile
Sadly they were way to tight
I felt an old nail digging into my soul
I tried loosening the laces
However the knots were way too tight
Pain coursed through my body with each step
I walked through a puddle
Water poured through the holes
I became chilled to the bone
I stared at my sore feet
These had been lovely shoes at one time
Shining with such possibility
Now they have been scuffed
Neglected
Walked through the mud
Left out in the cold
Cracked
Hardened
The protection they offered
Has long gone away
So I wonder
Is it not time
For a new pair of shoes
Categories:
coursed, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
Beside the surf she lay, a heap
Of broken hope, like bones, now crushed
And burning lips, forever hushed.
From eyes to sea, her briny weep
Gave solemn witness to her fears
The love now draining with her tears.
Thus bled her heart into the deep
With love that spoiled in other arms
Abiding not its throbbing harms.
To there, perhaps, imbue it sleep
For pain was all that coursed within
Yet fathoms, black, would drown its sin
Or dark and still, its secrets, keep
A passion's crime that stained her red
Her love, his lover ... cold and dead.
Beside the surf she lay, a heap
From eye to sea, her briny weep
Thus bled her heart into the deep
To there, perhaps, imbue it sleep
Or dark and still, its secrets, keep.
* SECOND PLACE in the "Premiere Contest Number 370" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Sponsor. *
* SECOND PLACE in the "Constanza" Poetry Contest, Craig Cornish, Sponsor. *
Categories:
coursed, betrayal, jealousy, passion, sea,
Form:
Rhyme
Play It
You were afraid in the beginning.
You were excited and filled with anticipation.
But, afraid.
Just holding her in your hands was a strange experience.
Awkward, like a first kiss.
Unsure of where and how to touch.
Just how should your lips
Meet her cold and unfamiliar mouth piece?
Remember those first few notes
Screeching through space inside the band hall?
A sacred place where rhythm and note
Have coursed the air and touched
The smallest bones of the human body
With the softest and most pleasant caress.
Become familiar with the way she feels.
Close your eyes and feel the softness of her curves.
Treat her like a lady of royal blood.
Her father has given you her hand.
There is no leaving her at the altar.
You will decide your life together.
Love her. Caress her. Kiss her softly.
Learn to move your fingers and listen to her reply.
The early sound of surprise becomes the sound of love.
Soon, you breathe as one, and the voice you hear,
The voice we hear.
Is not hers. Is not yours. But, the union of both.
And what we hear is the birth of something
Grand and glorious and beautiful!
Play it!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t4C4YU5JtIo
Categories:
coursed, inspirational, love, music, passionsound,
Form:
Free verse
when light faded out
and darkness descended
when all over me
the icy chill began to creep
I slammed the windows and doors
tightly shut
and like a child crawled
into my padded bed,
while the winter gale
was still raging outside
you broke upon my thought
as a euphonious melody.
when I longed for your warmth,
you knocked upon my feeble heart
as your voice trailed across to me
louder and louder,
I woke up from my languorous sleep
felt snug, the chillness around me, swept away
and a strange desire,
coursed through my nerves
I could feel the heat
of your tumultuous passion
the soft touch
of your caressing hands
the musky odor
of your fragrant breath
the warmth in your almond eyes
you stood before me
as an embodiment of grace
you opened the windows to let in the light
not leaving me grope in blinding darkness
you took me to the seas
of shore less delight
you enlivened every atom of my being
kindled in me the fire
of amorous desire
swept me off my feet
by the inundating tide of love
I felt my sleeping passions
suddenly set ablaze
Alas, with my senses lulled to sleep
leading me into a state of serene calm
through the door ajar,
you faded out like an evanescent dream
leaving me so stupefied....!
Placed First
Feb.20. 2022
Winter Love Poetry Contest
Sponsor- JCB Brul
Categories:
coursed, cute love, december, dream,
Form:
Free verse
For Timothy Lee
Breathe in promised peace, Darling One – feel its ease, with heart try,
and know, as clouds never lose sky, there shall always be you and I.
In the lonely of lying, stilled-silence, disallow and
deny its hiss, then recall all my love insists:
I will ever still gild spaces in your mind
and you, the best traces inside my time.
Endurance in my love’s caress for you
is permanently ink-coursed in love’s verse.
My love for you lives in love’s eternal rhyme
and yours, for me, in its prose filled lines.
This life is but one variety portion of the
entirety in our love’s force for absorbing.
Until we again physically reunite,
I ask to bliss-feel your blown kiss each night.
Though varied skies must be, Darling One – remember, by and by,
still remains a sky of abiding air, just as fate retains soulmates paired.
Categories:
coursed, death, destiny, loneliness, sorrow,
Form:
Lyric
Wandering past the boundaries of his small reservation,
Crescent Moon saw the land of his ancestors’ generation.
Tales handed down spoke of vast plains where buffalo used to roam,
but plains had become cities, animals had found a new home.
Most of the creatures had been captured, tagged and placed into zoos;
Anger coursed through Crescent Moon’s veins as tears from his eyes did ooze.
Tribal leaders had told him that the sky was once a bright blue,
but now smog was so thick that only faint rays of sun pierced through.
Seeing mountains in the distance, he pursued a vision quest
taking him through streets that were once the great forests of the West.
Snowy peaks he finally reached, but they were lined by ski resorts.
Fire burned in him, knowing beauty had been sacrificed for sports.
As he climbed over peaks to view a river flowing below,
he saw only tainted waters that caused his anger to grow.
Sadly, slowly, he made his way back to the reservation,
knowing there was no way to reverse what the white man had done.
Although others had adjusted to life in captivity,
he’d no longer participate in tribal festivity.
Instead he made his home in a cave behind a waterfall,
to envision his land as it once was, not a shopping mall.
*Entry for Francine’s “A Nature Tale” contest.
By Carolyn Devonshire, September 30, 2011
Categories:
coursed, native american, nature, sad,
Form:
Couplet
There on the sands of time ,
he poured his heart out .
Watched as it blew with the wind,
to mix with the other grains.
A tear coursed down his cheek,
to land upon the parched sand.
His head he dropped in sorrow,
to see a flower where the tear had landed.
There in the stark barren landscape ,
a tiny bit of color bloomed.
warming his heart,
more than the sun ever could.
Placement: 3rd
Categories:
coursed, life, lost love
Form:
Free verse
How our flame seems to burn
like a wildfire on mountainside
only to become coursed by the wind
changing directions to begin again
All of nature from a distance
across the rivers bank
can only stand in awe
in view of our flaming fury
burning with every touch
melting each to the core
as fusing the finest ores
I am your wick to your lantern
you are my deepest resevoir
of limitless oil....
you are my infinite universe
unexplored spaces
which I can't ignore
my venusian heaven of love...
You are all that....and more
Categories:
coursed, adventure, imagination, love, universe,
Form:
Free verse
There she was wearing nothing but wings
I was mesmerized by her beauty
Each curve exquisitly bathed in light
My eyes went to where hands longed to be
I was mesmerized by her beauty
An angel displayed before my eyes
Each curve exquisitly bathed in light
Beyond my best imagination
An angel displayed before my eyes
Beckoning me with a sultry glance
Beyond my best imagination
It seemed impossible to resist
Beckoning me with a sultry glance
Fantasy realized with a kiss
It seemed impossible to resist
Hunger needed to be satisfied
Fantasy realized with a kiss
I felt her hands as they touched my back
Hunger needed to be satisfied
I watched as her wings they disappeared
I felt as her hands touched my back
Rivers of pleasure coursed through my veins
I watched as her wings they disappeared
Together we both rolled on the sand
Rivers of pleasure coursed through my veins
A fallen angel held in my arms
Together we both rolled on the sand
Beneath a full moon and shining stars
A fallen angel held in my arms
Each cuve exquisitly bathed in light
Beneath a full moon and shining stars
There she was naked without her wings
SKAT's Angel Contest
Categories:
coursed, fantasy,
Form:
Pantoum
Before the Roman legions carved a road
This stallion coursed across the chalk ridge brow
Unharnessed, free or by a king bestrode
Like wave traversing grassland free of plough
It still pursues its quest yet even now
Note: This is the oldest of the many white horses carved into chalk hillsides across southern England. It has been dated to The Bronze or Iron ages. (Pre-Roman occupation)
Categories:
coursed, image,
Form:
Quintain (English)
If darkness and brilliance could change their ways
You'd be my shadow on the brightest of days.
My shelter from sun, while they drink lemonade
With creamy, pale skin as I cool in your shade.
If bitter and sweetness changed definition,
What I love is your vinegar-like disposition
In a world full of sugar you have the right nip,
That waters my eyes with the tiniest sip.
If coldness and warmth could swap what they mean
You'd be the winter, a sub-zero scene.
Cooling my core until all is well,
While the world burns without you, forever in Hell.
If heavy and light changed their meanings instead,
Then you make me soar like a box full of lead,
When you're not around I'd plunder like wood.
If you gave me a sinking feeling, it's good.
If poison and antidote were reversed in translation
You'd be a black mamba, coiled in formation.
Your venom would save me, as it coursed through my veins
But the cure would just kill me, and leave my remains.
Even if the world were upside down you'd be my inspiration.
Sparking the flame, turning the wheels, helping my creations.
You're the light in the dark, the shadow of day,
You're the thing that makes sense when the world goes astray.
Categories:
coursed, world, light, light, me,
Form:
echo, love ...
au contraire ...
when I wanted to see you
I closed my eyes
when I longed for your whisper
I screamed at the moon
when I craved your taste
I starved myself like a madman
and shed my skin
when I could not touch you.
I have searched your blossoms
to find only thorns
I have traded ten angels
for a demon, reborn
I once walked among giants
in your tiniest shoes
and plucked your strings -
your heart's aching strings
with naught ... but blues.
your walls ...
I climbed them, formidable
only to leap, lost, to your darkened depths
I swam your passion
but was dashed to ruin on your reef of apathy
ago, I coursed your very dreams with wild wonder
only to wake ... a nightmare ...
unanswered questions blooming like tombstones
dappling meadows ... in war.
love, echo.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Completely Your Choice (27) Any Theme, Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
coursed, analogy, lost love, metaphor,
Form:
Free verse
Limerick: Once Japanese Robot lied about its age
Once Japanese Robot lied about its age
To an American Robot under age
At marriage registry
Paid haemophrodite fee
That night in shed they locked jaws in mad glad rage.
One said: “If only I knew your true old age
I would not have stooped so low to engage
You in pédophilie
Despite the reduced fee!”
Said the other: “Shut your trap. Open your cage!”
All night they toiled without oil or French vintage
Pungent fumes coursed through finely wired visage
Love counter showed much glee
-Unusual degree-
Neither side of Pacific need take umbrage.
Hiroshima Nagasaki sheer mirage
Robot lingo spout like Zen-type soul adage
Nuts bolts screws a-plenty
War rights out of country
Robots join dumb Robots in Atomic Age!
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
Categories:
coursed, age, allegory, america, humor,
Form:
Limerick
Now soaring high above the lands
that form the Big Sur shore,
her wings enjoin the wind and sky
set free forevermore.
Where hills, broad shouldered, meet the sea
eternal, vast, and blue,
and cloud-laced skies above the earth
now greet her soul so true.
She soars, a butterfly set free,
o'er all her life has seen.
Her memory, still rich to us,
now shares its golden sheen.
And longer than white waves have coursed
the California shore,
and deeper than the ocean or
the heavens men explore,
the gentle hands of God will guide
her wings forevermore.
For Nancy
7-16-15
Categories:
coursed, freedom, friendship, memory,
Form:
Verse