Best Curiously Poems
A spirited traveler, how curiously you roam, flexing your freedom,
Visiting places serene, from Atlantic to Pacific, Artic to Antarctic,
Hugging every exotic continent, kissing territories in between;
Exploring from shore to shore; thrashing, splashing, your rhythms.
Hosting sunsets of amber evenings and sunrises of purple dawns
Fondly you reflect ruby rays, charming avid glances of romance,
Illuminating in sun’s golden dust a fusion made of fervid dreams,
And designs of your vision artistic, sprinkled on motifs esoteric.
Custodian of precious resources, a treasurer of beauteous coral reefs,
A liaison for shipping goods, trading foods, marine mineral mining;
You are a daring warrior too, flaunting bravely your armored ships,
An environmentalist as well, facilitating harvesting of wind energy.
You are so charismatic, when leisurely you propel passenger ships,
Journeying to towns historic, luxuriating on heavenly beaches;
Yet, when your mood is perturbed, you are a monster, angry beast,
Stomping ferociously, storming destructively, churning latent heat.
Harmonious with the mystique of moon, mythical cosmic bodies,
Coast-to-coast you soar, alluring aspirations of dreams romantic,
As boundlessly you undulate, navigating zestful tides of passion;
Awe of admiration, you are the eternal, magnificent blue ocean.
Image credit: Wikipedia
People amble by in view of the placid lake
Mesmerized by horizon adorning scarlet
While not far from the Oak tree, I stealthily lay
Enthralled in musical repertoire of Blue Jays
As squirrels run wild in a purposeful race
And searching for food woodpeckers peck.
Trust me when I say they are no friends--
One by one they devoured my mates
And now here I am, the only one left--
Thanks to the kid who curiously picked me
And threw me away in callous disdain
Landing in a pit just a few yards from the lake
Still within grace of the golden daybreak.
My endurance burned in hot summer days
And resilience ached in stormy, rainy haze
Till cooler nights met dewy vibrant dawns
As resplendent vistas autumn witnessed
And falling colors floated in evening breeze
Burying me in cloak of fiery-red leaves
For semblance of warmth in winter forlorn.
In misery of wet, cold my core utterly soaked
As I almost lost hope of sanguine heart echoes
Until aura of life the young spring invoked
When my roots formed, sprouting new growth
And slowly I up-rose in a delightful world
Marveling rising skies of ruby brushstrokes.
April 24, 2020
HM: Strand Pick H Contest
The last acorn poetry contest
Sponsor: John Lawless
A reader of the stars am I. I’ve looked
into my crystal ball. Guess what I saw?
The woman of your dreams! You will be hooked
because her charms will fill your heart with awe.
A female with green eyes and princess ways,
she also has a bit of gypsy soul!
With her you will be blessed all of your days.
She is the other half to make you whole.
She’ll challenge you; together you will grow.
One other thing to know . . . curiously
she very much seems to resemble me!
Sept. 3, 2020
for Line Gauthier's Max 12 Lines - Poem-Inspired Prompt Poetry Contest
You can see her little poem that inspired this collaboration over at the contest pages.
Angelica
curiously peering over a cloud
Angelica stepped a bit too far
wings fluttered and disappeared
stolen by jealous demons below
angel flying too close to the ground
leaving the harmony of heaven
sensing a need to save a ravaged planet
landing gracefully on soft soil
Angelica hears the bulldozers
weapons of environmental destruction
sauntering through Earth’s rainforests
curiosity beckons as water reflects her image
her lost wings still reflect in the pond
seen as ripples from her pink, silk gown
orchid floral tiara crowns her long auburn hair
even water lilies envy her beauty
captivated by this pool lit with filtered sun
immersed in an image of herself
in God’s light all angels appear the same
bright beams to welcome new souls
fly again she will
bubbles of hope spring forth
Earthbound for but a brief time
cherished cherub sent as nature’s guardian
halo of comfort surrounds
Angelica leans forth to feel the coolness
sparkling water caresses warm lips
her kiss renews Earth’s freshness
other angels transparent in sunlight
bestow a new set of wings
mission accomplished, they escort her home
once again she revels in heaven’s light
For the “Reflection” contest, sponsored by Constance La France ~ a Rambling Poet ~
By Carolyn Devonshire
Un-nerved by formal sentencing assemblies,
Marks and Words, bound by conjunctive amenity.
The tried beliefs that short cuts speed words into action.
Made stuffy Old School feel out of fashion.
Punctuation board-slams her silver gavel;
“A shortened distance, yet far to travel.”
Marks are pushed into line to enter their plea.
Dash Dash Dash has trailing thoughts…
Comment remarks that it thinks too much.
Question Mark, curiously rotund and stout,
asks “What’s this meeting all about?”.
Proud Period, acquainted with the strident rituals of formality,
Quickly departs, leaving a daunting spot of terse finality.
Comma’s game of pause and snag,
grammatically adheres to one of tag.
Overwrought Exclamation Mark, nervously blurts:
“Unruly disorder can make matters worse!”.
Semi colon maintaining proper pauses,
Stays anchored between compelling clauses.
Colon fearful of growling barks,
snuggles closer to Quotation Marks.
Apostrophe’s like for word possession,
worries over changing word obsession
Oh, Oh! Oh? Oh…
These are shameful attempts to monopolize,
Even with trite words, of unassuming size.
.
Punctuation thinks her identity’s impaired
Might she be confused with the shrew, Grammar?
She calls to order a capitol thought.
sliding up to Exclamation Mark, shouts “’STOP!’
The object of this meeting,
Is not subject to self- beating.
No presence is here to criticize, or chastises,
nor harmonize.
If getting through is what stays true.
Will be understood by some , but always to you.”.
I stood still on the top of the mountain
Gazing at the nature's colourful fountain
Wondering what's behind this amazing rainbow
I ventured curiously on to every high and low
The Violet proudly presented the Valiance behind her Royalty.
Indigo proved that Devotion yields Power and Dignity.
Blue demonstrated that Wisdom is the outcome of Stability.
The Prosperity, as Green proved, results from adventure.
The colour of sunshine revealed that Hope fuels Survival.
Orange disclosed the secret behind the joy of Freedom - Commitment.
Red introduced Courage as the guiding force of Self-empowerment.
I extrapolated these rainbow lessons to understand the essence of existence
Then I was amazed to look at every bit of life's radiance
On the other side of the rainbow of mother's love, there was labour.
On the other side of rainbow of success, there was the waterfall of sweat.
On the other side of the rainbow of sweet dreams, there was bloodshed.
On the other side of the rainbow of independent thoughts, there was abuse.
On every facet of life, only one side of colours is typically seen.
But the brushes that paint them are surprisingly umpteen.
That childhood faith, vehemently spirited,
Difficult to bend, impossible to tame.
That still-cradled heart, curiously open,
Eschewing fear, shunning struggle,
Accepting of each coming day.
The journey so hazardous.
Now a cold-forged and unyielding heart
Beats out each agonizing minute.
Jared by indolence and disappointment,
Vision unrecognizably scarred.
The journey so quickly done.
Needing to chance upon that child again
To lightly touch the angel's brow.
She questions her life..
She questions her mortality..
She questions her immortality..
Curiously seeking for answers ..
Of the unknown..
Who am I..
Why do we rise and fall..
Why is there pain..
Why is there suffering..
Imbalances exist in a perfectly balanced world..
Earth is beautifully balanced..
As she spins gracefully..
She is in perfect harmony..
Her pure essence is of love..
Her pure essence is of nurture..
As she nurtures us all with the splendor of nature..
Overwhelmed she is at times..
As our nuturing Mother Earth continuously..
Balances our inbalances..
Of which there are disturbances to her harmonic flow..
She maintains her glory..
As nature shall always remain perfect..
Who am I..
Mortality is only the body..
Immortality is all and one..
An immortal soul strives in magnificence..
No birth as it always exited..
Rebirth as it seeks to remember..
To experience..
An immortal soul glides passionately through..
Different chapters of life..
Lives and dimensions of what is..
One cannot rise..
Unless one falls..
Of which there lies pain and suffering..
We only fall..
Just to rise again..
Again and again..
As she questions her mortality..
Her immortality..
Her answers are found within..
Vision, a window divine, open wide to aspirations of heart,
A lens paramount, for perusing aesthetics of beauty and art;
A sight beaming imagination, on ambitions of curious soul,
A focus coherent, shaping impulses, passions studious cajole.
A medium of communication, an engaging lure of romance,
An infatuated response, a jubilant hint of enamored glance,
Blossoming in language of love, without utterance of word,
Extolling meaning amorous, that desires romantic spurred.
Perceptive of worldview, on mission to observe and learn,
A journey into the unknown, yearning curiously to discern,
Vision quests for knowledge, aiming to be literate, well read,
Vision peers into future, navigating life’s road maps ahead.
It thrills watching a baby smile, elates in celebration of life,
Saddens when mind summons anguish of grief and strife;
Dejecting violent places, thoughts kindred deeply deplore,
Preferring banks of avid shores, dreams endearing implore.
Vision captures images of life, ruminating in joys and sighs,
Rejoicing in blissful memories, or tearing-up its forlorn eyes;
Reveling in exuberant prairies, vying for flowering springs,
Or shuddering amid barren trees, bearing angst winter brings.
A lesson I have learned before the birds and the bees
was when I tripped, tumbled and fell, frightened by my bloodied knees
My mother came and helped me up, patched my wound, smiled and teased;
“When you fall, always get up, you don’t want to stay down and freeze”.
Curiously what marked my mind and what stood out most vividly,
other than the way she took care of me so tenderly;
How could she have heard me fall and come to my aid instantly,
for I knew she was asleep, and I sneaked out so quietly.
To this question she laughed, rumpled my hair with amusement
“Don’t you know moms have a radar, switched on to permanent?
Be it trouble, or a lie, for us there’s no concealment,
or sudden fever at night, we know.” she said to my amazement.
“Hear with your ears, but listen with your heart, often save the day.”
These words I carry till today, for a mother’s role I now play.
Inspired by Craig Cornish' theme - NOT FOR CONTEST
07 May 2015
"Fata Morgana"
feet hardly touch the ocean
when silent stars of no voice
transmit words to pay the ferryman
on the water no reflection
gently the sun waves smiling as if to say
feel that, the warmth of waking sleep
no fear of what remains hidden
it will unravel from inside that which is all too deep
walking towards you across the briny mist
from ancient stories forgotten
a halo of St Elmo’s Fire surrounds
it stands still for a short while before you
watching
you,
walking water with your bare feet
faith in dreams consistent in their constancy
that visit you when you are complete yet incomplete
holds out its hand to lead the way across
sharp burning rocks, now a desert, climbing mountains that are steep
a small life crumbles to powdered sand
more than 40 days silent gone astray
years the turning of untimed tides pretence
meets a haunting vision beckoning, new horizon, odd unclear
safe harbour left long ago,
lost in that ornery time, cursed by flying monkeys' bellows
of bloodletting and betrayal, stock still, standing amidst the shallows
somewhere along the way dark narcissus followed
what breaks over the bow
washes all stern fear away
sacred wings of albatross
ne’er to be sacrificed, no more night nor day
souls of ancient mariners
forever follow me, even when I stray
the rich baritone of bedtime stories
messages in code conveyed, I hear them still today
now swallows spooning spinnakers
running directly before wind and sea
the water turns to wine, much stranger the belief,
all manna of trust it feeds
bells tolling
no man’s an island entire of itself
in unusual reckonings
observing swimming hearts, that hear and see
the eyes that melt, this more curiously
in truth, the dream defends
messages eternal
life it never ends
tides move in and out
never alone when we begin
fata morgana
softly the moon ascends
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
VCB
Lux Vitae
5.5.10
"Under a splintered mast,
torn from ship and cast
near her hull,
a stumbling shepherd found
embedded in the ground,
a sea-gull
of lapis lazuli,
a scarab of the sea,
with wings spread—
curling its coral feet,
parting its beak to greet
men long dead."
("Talisman", Marianne Moore)
A welcome sight the lights ahead - like misty globules on ink black foam
The billboard elicits a sense of foreboding - Welcome to the Midnight Bazaar
A lack luster moon adds to the mystery – nervously I enter to ask my way home
A familiar song plays in the somewhere, the name eludes me - how bizarre
Somberly dressed people scurry past- eyes focused on illuminated screens
Refusing contact, shoving past rudely as I ask where this place would be
One of them in riddles tells me - this is home - the place to be it seems
I wonder if the scales of reality have tipped in favor of insanity
A stall arouses my curiosity and I look as a butcher of sorts places
Bleeding hearts getting desired effect - starts a pushing jostling frenzy
Uninterested in the clowns on stilts with their painted morbid faces
Children walk with sullen looks - expressionless eyes that fail to see
Crowds clamor to buy sea food - how absurd - especially as a smell of decay prevails
Fresh produce on sale with dyed color bleeding and truffles of mud is there something amiss
A man wanders around with passports on offer - Buy yourself a Life - his sign displays
Relief at last - a stall with books and maps – here is my escape from this tainted Abyss
This God forsaken place is not where I wish to stay
And I must strive to leave it before the light of day
An exorbitant sum I pay eager to escape his cloying breath, his black toothed smile
A commotion at the far end - some sort of bidding - curiously I venture courage giving me wings
A sign proclaims ‘Souls For Sale’- in rage I scream ‘you cannot sell souls - This is so Vile ‘
Dark soulless eyes in chalk white faces – Bore right through me – Look right through me
I run screaming, falling, clawing the map that shows all roads lead back to this Hell - I scream
Waking myself - knowing the name of that song still in my head - Shaking from this macabre dream
Footnote:
This was not meant to be a pretty poem. It exaggerates the state of a world that has seemingly lost its focus and empathy. Let's not let this happen
Take a bit of Dean Kontz, Stephen King and the unnatural things going on with food enhancements and you have the stage set for a macabre nightmare!
("Portal of Souls", 2019, original encaustic)
Just Another Door
Our society is sick
Spiritually sick
Because it has lost religion
Or transferred it to hollow
Shallow faiths – such as Scientism,
Environmentalism, Feminism, Marxism
Which can give us literally nothing
At death’s door.
Death should be the big day
What our lives have been not only heading to
But aiming for, preparing for
As our BIG day – THE day –
D-Day.
People prepare for other big days;
Prom nights, graduations, weddings, births
But curiously
Not death.
How do you want to die?
Or put another way,
Do you want to die randomly,
And without direction
Or with intention and vision?
Either way, it’s just another door.
(9/19/23)
Do I hear your angelic melodious murmur?
Echoing over the rainbow?
But in reality, what can you expect
To find above that dazzling arc of hues
When the sun is behind you
While droplets of rain shimmer their last bright colours.
Yet above the rainbow, bluebirds search their nests
And I fly above the rainbow towards the dimming stars.
Curiously I wonder where that hum comes from.
Is she hidden behind some cloud,
Above the rainbow up impossibly high?
My heart tickles me and I must find her.
So my soul soars high up, oh so high
Until I find her there up above, on a fluffy cloud.
Her face is glowing with radiant love.
Must have been destiny, our destiny
To meet above the vibrant rainbow.
For now, I’m in love with her too.
She slipped into the single’s club,
where an assortment
of horny guys and lonely hearts had assembled.
Some were there hoping to find that "special" someone
and some had come to chase away the blues,
tinkling ice in cocktail glasses soon to be refilled.
Others, who might be labeled commitment phobic,
had simply come to case the place for an easy lay.
Swinging svelte, mini-skirted hips lasciviously,
she strutted over to the counter
on legs that looked their longest and most shapely
from being hoisted on high red heels.
Every pair of eyes was trained on her.
Some in the club gawked
with eyes that hid beneath mascara-painted lashes, flitting envy.
Others leered with pupils dilating lust
from ogling the two soft protrusions in her tight white turtleneck.
Then with pink champagne in hand,
the goddess turned and surveyed her audience,
most of whom by now had looked away.
One remained, mesmerized, with eyes riveted on her.
He quivered when she caught his gaze
and strolled over to where he sat.
As she approached, he marveled at her face -
the chiseled cheekbones strong and high,
the dark eyes, luminescent and immense,
and curiously, an upturned nose so delicate
it seemed almost too perfect,
like one acquired from a sculptor’s hands.
He gulped when she asked him for a dance,
and as he asked this intriguing lady’s name,
he wondered at the timbre of her voice,
so provocative and low as she tossed dark brown locks
and said seductively,
“My name is Lola. L-O-L-A , Lola.”
Inspired by an old song from the 70's and
used now for Skat's the Premiere Contest number 10 Poetry Contest