Best Crescendoing Poems

In his seething silence, I spoke, softly to him,
“Did I desire once to be higher than you, oh seething heart?
Could I, in my human flesh,...

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I was restless all the night,
The demoness softly singing a haunting tune
The Holy Spirit sifted in swirls around me,
And she touched with her claws its...

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Robin Redbreast

Spring is here, and the robins appear
With morning and evening song in the air.

A robin redbreast perched in a tree
Sings a song for his...

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Digital Creationism
(Man 0, God 1)         

Part 1: Binary God
For men it seems God is a binary function
And...

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We Are The Watchers

by Stark Hunter


Into the breach the multitudes surge,
Into the crushing breakers and
Beyond the sucking mindless tides,
Down down into the whirring, rushing confluence,
Precipitously...

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Old  Dame On A Footloose





She held on to the firm grip of the extended invite

Pent up desires vented out in the market site

Elasticity in...

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The celeritous bodies of the hills and plains
Are a true wonder. Green fields stimulating 
A world of living, with just as much depth 
For the...

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in life you flow like a river
ceaseless without a quiver
endless giggling speedy and wavy
relentless bristling to the  ocean gleefully
undisturbed attached to the moment pure
might...

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I watched the endless procession of stalwart youth, resplendent in their panoply gathered, a 
steelly passion filling resolute gait.
And I asked of them, "To what...

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Antithesis

In May, the lion’s ear blooms immaculately,
As if the night sky is on fire.
It excretes a ravishing untarnished beauty,
A mesmerizing compelling beauty
Only the mad mystics...

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The American Morning

We ride smoothly, deliberately, in this old cruising caravan,
Across the ancient American avenues and boulevards, 
Of the once living, and now, the finally...

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Bolero builds in intensity,
the interplay of instruments
crescendoing; soft to loud.

Ravel’s music haunting my dreams
Chimera of swells crashing, Everest
ever-reaching for God’s palm.

The texture of a piece...

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Nursing my young child to sleep,
I pour my love out to him as I do
my milk. Thin and cold as a specter,
there is warmth only...

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I don’t need to be told what I’ve seen
whether it’s real or a sinister scheme
I need a world where I know the rules 
which we...

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Another sleepless night without you,
Yet I had another dream.
8 young children were picking flowers,
Or...so it would seem.
4 girls and 4 boys stood before me,
Each holding...

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