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, sympathize for your imminent demise?
Cradling you in my sorrows, as an embryo not yet grown
Yes, I had resented my place,...

Continue reading...

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 essence with strange wonder

I awoke to his songs strong and immense,
Rumbling through the giant well
A low hum at first,
Crescendoing into...

Continue reading...

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 lady bird to be,
Undeterred, as he awaits her answer,
Crescendoing to drown out the others.
His heart afire, his senses alert
He preens...

Continue reading...

Digital Creationism
(Man 0, God 1)         

Part 1: Binary God
For men it seems God is a binary function
And like ones and zeros 'HE IS ON or 'he's off.'
Is it luck that He is a guest at your table?...

Continue reading...

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 we fall and slide,
Tenuously and tragically we slip.
We are the watchers of the wasted!
We are the watchers of the dancing...

Continue reading...

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 and poets can discern.
Here, put on these rubber sandals;
The pair with the ostrich plumes,
For the walkway to my hidden tower...

Continue reading...

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 glance up or fro fleeting sure
lights of virtues guides you  not fear
or greed but love and compassion care
river flows...

Continue reading...

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 dead. Dulcet hills sing sweet songs of melody,
Crescendoing with tunes of enticement.
And although the plains can seduce fields of flowers,
Or...

Continue reading...

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 call wise which we call fools

Where the lines in the sand are a lot less hazy
and people agree on who...

Continue reading...

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 the heart of the rumpled weathered skin

Coyly she smiled with hat in the air and stick clanging away

Tantalising onlookers at...

Continue reading...

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 place does such noble assemblage march?"
"To the Temple of Ares, and Glory's Gate, to burn of names in Honor's book...

Continue reading...

Winds batter the dusty house,
	can you hear the creaks, moans, the wrinkles?
	his hands,
	glide up and down the worn wood of the aged 	rocking chair

	this place is the essence of antiquity; 
	i feel ill-at-ease

	his dull eyes search
	for something, anything to pull him
	into the past

	the chair groans:...

Continue reading...

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 of art —
layer upon layer of a singular sunset.
A flute of tangerine, clarinet - cluster of grapes,
strawberry-bassoon, then the e-flat...

Continue reading...

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 dead, 
Of the once famous, and now, the finally forgotten;
Of tattooed memories applied in the American morning, cooking
In the back...

Continue reading...

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 where his
innocent hands and mouth touch
my skin. Outside the snow
falls and the dogs bark in
crescendoing unity. In my head
I am...

Continue reading...