Best Culminating Poems
Inviting vibrancy as the season changed
Smiley faces bloomed, reopening dreams.
Seeing you there marked a blessed event
Akin to magical when first time eyes met.
Breezing trees heard the whispers of leaves
Flirting with patterns of shadowy sketches,
There you unfolded what love could mean
Planting bold dreams in affectionate kisses
Floating on air in the lilting summer winds.
Blazing colors inspired falling ocher scenery
Dazzling in hues of resplendent paintings
As we wrote music in autumn's reverie:
A seductive beginning of romantic ending
Composed in themes of passionate lyrics.
Mountain tops donned snow-white crowns
Satiating fantasies in pristine landscapes,
Culminating desires into sensual escapes
As the last goodbye lent your heart to me
Ending your visit and our idyllic love story.
Your beat I hear still, but it lost its melody.
This evening called passion
“Moonbeams now blushing ‘pon soft heavens ashen,
love flowing deeply, this evening called passion”
Ensconced in effervescent lingerings
sifting through moonlit seams
Soft flavored drippings of ecstasy
melting slowly within the fever
dancing across my skin
as your fingers trace
the outline of my deepest secrets,
mysteries lodged in seductive breaths
Your love my opiate, addictive enchantment
Stimulated senses heightened
Moon drenched quivers, silver lined
adrift on satin sighs
Floating delirious within
hypnotic eyes,
seducing my mind in eternal desires
Trance infused emotions
cling to each nuance of mesmeric longings
Swirling smoke ringlets
penetrate stardust cosmos,
culminating in sensual motions
atop gilded sheets
drenched of our rapture,
etched in euphoria
Two silhouettes entwined
on this evening called passion
Good night Soupers
Have a great weekend
See you on Monday
Blooming avid hearts, where reveries dwell,
“Love weaves a mysterious magic spell”
Turning daydreams into amorous fairytale
Of endeavors esoteric smitten passions unveil,
Sketching emotions, fantasies ecstatic ignite,
Threading themes, musings-intimate write,
Embroidering bliss upon tapestries of mind,
Bedecking realm heavenly, destiny designed,
Rejoicing springs roaming on fragrant breeze,
Sailing blue seas, summer’s aspirations seize,
Exultant in notions of love, autumn weaves,
Choreographing dance of falling gold-leaves,
Luring besotted eyes fixating on moonlit skies,
Vying impulses-romantic, fervid moods surmise,
Rhapsodic in elation, aglow in stellar delight,
Hypnotizing minds caressing proffers of night,
“Love weaves a mysterious magic spell”
Blooming avid hearts, where reveries dwell,
Culminating in sweet rendezvous desires plea
Threading intimate fantasies for you and me.
As I hear clinks of your cups
I can listen to orange sounds in your ample eyes
I can hear your obvious highs as if nearing a sea
Morning in a humming bee
You are busy at the mild harsh and tasty sound
The butter knife spreading butter on the dark dense toast
For the person you love the most
Eloquent silence all around
Soft munching sound from inside our mouth
Mingles with the wind from south
The door bell chimes its beautiful tune
Like the monsoon
Then comes the rustling of newspaper pages
The train crossing so many bridges
Combines with the rhythmic drumming of the woodpecker
The sound of your stirring sugar
Bubbling of boiled water in the kettle
They settle
In a silent sound of a loud red lily in bloom at the window
As rain falls in a crescendo
The flip flop of your sandals
Passing into your bangles clinking together
Culminating in the slurp as we sip tea
Real moments of pure glee
A great strength
Against the various wavelengths
Of the bang bark bray
Throughout the day
_______________________________________________________________
June 19, 2016
In a dream called passion
Ensconced in effervescent lingerings
sifting through moonlit seams
Soft flavored drippings of ecstasy
melting slowly within the fever
dancing across my skin
as your fingers trace
the outline of my deepest secrets,
mysteries lodged in seductive breaths
Sweet air murmurs in erotic whispers
Your love my opiate, addictive enchantment
Stimulated senses heightened
Sundrenched moans, silver lined
adrift on satin sighs
Floating delirious within
hallucinogenic eyes,
seducing my mind in eternal desires
Thoughts mingle in reflective desires
Trance infused emotions
cling to each nuance of mesmeric longings
Swirling smoke ringlets
penetrate whispering décolletage,
culminating in lustful motives
atop gilded sheets
immersed in our rapture,
etched in euphoria, drenched...
in a dream called passion
Good night Soupers
Liquified Dream
As a splattering of genius juices streamed and eddied within my
cranium, opening covert courses of enlightenment, splurging
thoughts and gushing ideas, wherein, creativity was some
resonating flood of information gurgling afterthought
culminating in an outburst of energetic sensation
drenched with a peace of mind and soaked in
a sense of fulfillment surging channels of
knowledge to utter overflowing, deluge
implementing conscious awareness
immersed in reconsideration and
saturated in highlights that are
steeped into erudition with a
dynamic focus like spilled
acquiring that projects
the sensory cells in
a whirlpool simply
slipping into my
imagination.
2020 June 04
*3rd Place*
Splash Poetry
~~Kai Michael Neumann: Judged 2020 June 07
*3rd Place*
BRIAN'S SELECT 4,any form,any theme
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2020 June 05
Solitude:
Distressful
Afflictive
Merciless
Unbearable solitude,
When you are present, Time immobile remains,
And
Each second an eternity of intolerable
Suffering becomes.
At such moments,
We implore Time to advance,
To accelerate its pace,
To hurry up
For
The next second
The next minute
The next hour
The next day to come,
So as
The pain to decrease,
Our agony to lessen,
And us to be liberated from distress,
From our affliction and from
Our ordeal
But Time – a sadist- unmoved stays,
Mocking us
And
Instead of picking up speed, it is
Dragging its leaden feet, enjoying thus itself With
Our perpetual torture,
Hence, we,
Disappointed by Time's unhurried stance,
Absorbed by its immobility,
Let ourselves sink deeper and deeper into our hopelessness,
Till we reach the deepest point of
Our being,
A place void of all thoughts,
Of absolute silence and of intense
Anguish!
At that point
We wish:
To shout
To scream
To yell
To howl
But
No voice is possible to be heard.
No one is there to listen to our call of distress.
And then
In the darkest hour of solitude,
At the culminating point of desolation,
When we thought all is lost, we realize to our surprise that
We are not alone,
WE WERE NEVER ALONE!
A tenant is there with us,
A tenant, beyond the limits of ourselves,
Of our understanding,
Of our awareness,
A tenant who looks at us with affection
With compassion and most of all
With love,
Unconditional love,
True Love,
Yes, it is HIM
The only ONE
HE who was there before us
And
Will be here into eternity
After we are gone:
GOD HIMSELF!
We look at His Holy visage, and we discern an
Apologetic expression for
Having put us through this tribulation to be able to make
HIS presence to us, is known!
He had tried before to approach us on many occasions,
During the period of our good fortune,
Of our successes and our achievements
But
We had ignored HIS calls at that time,
You see, we didn’t need any help then,
For
We thought every achievement of ours
Was our doing
We had the erroneous notion that
Everything was under our firm control
And that
We were INVINCIBLE
But
Now we know better for He has
Revealed to us the truth!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
19 January 2021
Quietly I sit,
eyes trying to clear out the cobwebs of sleep.
Coffee, strong and dark in hand
I step silent through the yard
traversing the well worn paths I've laid,
my little dog at my side.
Footsteps fall, soft and unsteady
as I walk the perimeter of life
that is newly born and just a start to the season
and he, sniffs the air scented by the blossoms.
Red, pink, white roses slip from bud to flowers
basking in the early morning sun in sweet bouquets
warmed and watered by the humid air
following torrential rains and the chill it brought.
Pausing in strategicly placed chairs
I take it in, breathing deep the fragrance on the wind,
contemplating the years so quickly lost to time,
and the wonders I recall within their fading shadows.
How fleeting were the days, the weeks and years
now culminating here in complete satisfaction
knowing nothing can be undone
it is what it is, no redos.
Onto my lap, my dog jumps up
seeking attention from my distracted ponderances
a repetitious stroke upon his head is enough
and I am at peace with the time that is
waiting on the edge of forever.
drifting in a zestless world of hypocrisy,
aching to dispel the lunacy
echoing with distorted imageries,
held in a bastille of utter carnage;
I’m abundantly devoted to
breaking free from what enslaves me.
acquire
wading through the necrotizing tenor
that binds me,
steadfastly drawing near, while
teetering on the confines of
my perilous mind and altruistic heart—
prodigiously culminating.
Taking back what the enemy stole.
I, Ram, breathed in this world
In the town once ruled by Lord Krishna
Ever since I have counted his blessings
And with His grace have kept on stepping.
Though born in a family of a teacher
Received all the attention from my parents
That encouraged me to be in the noblest profession.
Culminating into D.Litt. from the most respected
Organization, World Congress of poets (UNO)
At Los Angeles, an undreamt honor so far.
Once I had been attacked by Cancer in 1994
But it was totally cured with clean health.
Cancer came to cancel me but I cancelled cancer.
Lord, has given me healthy body never to
Bother how many medicine tablets to be taken.
And freedom to take care of my passions I love
Other things being looked after by my children.
At 80, all my senses are active and quite in command
Traveled over four continents and still to travel but
Ready and waiting to leave any time, if my Lord desires
With no unsolved Karmic problems un-ruptured,
But with atonement, ready to be judged by Him
I wait but still keep on stepping, counting his blessings.
+++
September 7, 2014
Form: Narrative
Dr. Ram Mehta
Contest: Keep It Real by Skat-A
I met a pessimist walker in Optimist Park,
She walked with a walker and a co-walker
Swaying on either side, not in her mark.
Crippled, stressed, depressed, a fatuous talker.
Troubled by blood sucking winged insects.
‘mosi-ki-toss’ many, many, ‘mosi-ki-toss’
Shouted she in her Serbian accents,
Waving her palm to drive away foes & woes.
Immigrants of different nations & cultures,
Come in search of shades of optimism,
Culminating in the Old Testament adage,
‘HE hath made all things good in their times’
Indulging in the mirage of meliorism,
Things are bad but can be of better advantage.
=================================
Eighth Place win in
Contest: First poem on the soup by P.D>
I wrote this sonnet visiting Optimist Park in Windsor-Ont-Canada. It is " thoughts recollected in tranquility"
The poem was posted on 16-6-2005.
WHAT. THE WORLD NEEDS IS CHRONIC CHANGE, CONCILIATION AND CONVERSATIONS ,CULMINATING IN CLIMAXED COMMUNICATION.
WHAT WE NEED IS OUTSTANDING OBVIOUS OBSERVATION.
WE NEED MORE MEDITATION, MODERATE MEDIATION AND
MAJOR MODERN MONETARY MACHINES.
WE NEED POSITIVE PROLONGED PARTICIPATION.
WHAT WE NEED IS LITERAL LIBERALISM AND A LITTLE LITIGATION
ABOVE ALL WE NEED LOADS OF LOVING LECTURES AND LASTLY,
LOTS OF LOVE.
ONE CRUCIAL CONCERN: ALL NEEDS ARE CHRONICALLY CONSTANT.
The accident came by intent
on the wings of friend’s content
put to canvas with pigments towards
three months pursuit of crafting works
the same became my lofty goal
with words replacing painted forms
even though experience
was lacking in the poet’s pen
with each day another poem
was writ to page as purpose turned
from ninety dates to mere ten more
culminating at the year’s close
this happenstance of timing bless
the muse demanded only more
with lucidity in the breach
expression put to public stage
a goal surpassed had been gained
now writing was the habit set
so many couplets spun to state
sanity lost while wisdom’s gained
moving forward into years
with five down and more to go
the accident is now a cause
these words submitted with more to come.
Breezes brush through the window caressingly,
soft fanning wings powdering my skin;
night's black velvet pricked only by the porch light's glow.
Alone, I feel no fear. Gliding the dark, my twin
has turned gossamer wings toward my tiny light-
metamorphosed--a radiant night creature.
I breathlessly await like culminating event,
faith strengthened by this moth miracle of nature.
Heaven's windows are always flung wide open;
the porches blaze in one eternal, flaming light.
Souls released from dull cocoon entrapments
wing into endless day free of sin's blight.
Life's thin film is splitting, revealing the heart;
spirit wings unfurl, lift and upward start.
Copyright, November 2, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
Glistening peaks of waves in the moonlight,
soft and tender lapping at water 's edge
as the beach welcomed the incoming.
Anticipating the velocity of tidal thrusts,
sands quivering shifting limbs nervously
as wave after wave bombarded the shoreline.
Lost in motion all indifferent to the cry of pebbles
as waves incessantly lashed rugged rocks
while sea sprays pampered their anguish
from the chiseled process of sculptured stones.
Propulsion of heavy ocean waters entering,
filling every cavern with rocket motions as air
forced out in tensed release culminating
in the screams of blowholes.
In the aftermath, leaving a heady sparkling
trivia of tiny bubbles bursting with joy.
Glistening tears on her cheeks, she waited
Winds whipping her face while dread aged
her breathing as each desire vacillated.
Waiting, yearning for his kiss, that soft touch
of cool sea-mist brushing her lips,
the musky smell of him massaging
her every sense with heady erotic aromas.
As dawn broke, dreams of unrequited love
also shattered against razor-sharp reefs
leaving in splinters, micro-chips from his
wooden heart with coded messages for each
beach damsel awaiting his next surfing of local nets.
Whispers of breakers as tide neared rising,
dwindling hopes of ever birthing her silent
longings, moulding his pleasures with her being.
Waves took not only her hopes but also his shifty
footprints, leaving only froth on fickle sands.