Best Daubed Poems
Colors daubed for seasons' scenes
I sift through life for what it means
In spite of chaos, shades and flings
It comes down to the simple things
The mountain tops, the dark abyss'
Have ground my egos down to this
Of all the chance and spheres I'm of
Life's worth and essence is ... but LOVE
Indeed, I've lived big moments, too
The raptures and sweet rendezvous
Moving mountains - burning skies
Bright lilting lashes, soft lullabies
Shedding poisons like second skin
Too few dreams to wear them in
I dared the devil, danced with death
Swore for mercy's whisp'ring breath
So just when ends seemed all to be
This extra chance was proffered me
Don't take for granted or yet waste
That vigor gained from rigors faced
Don't tend concerns to end or start
It's what's between that fills a heart
True meaning - love's enduring kiss
A life's no less or more ... than THIS.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Strand Select, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 7th Place ~ in the "Favourite Poem From May, 2019" Poetry Contest, Julia Ward, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "The Meaning of Life" Poetry Contest, Chantelle Anne Cooke, Judge & Sponsor.
Dutiful dawn awaits the radiant sun
Clothed in her mantle daubed with streaks of light.
And faithful to the course which life must run,
Receives the baton from retreating night.
Remote yet not alone, for down below
Creation is preparing to rejoice.
Faint silhouettes of trees begin to show,
And birdsong swells to greet her in full voice.
The precious golden orb will soon arise
And dawn prepares to slowly slip away.
A blush of pink expands across the skies;
The sun cuts through at last - a brand new day.
This gift of new beginnings should impart
A sense of awe in every human heart.
'2019 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers' FINAL Placement': sponsored by Mark Toney
submitted on April 1st 2019
April 2019 Premier 6,Any Form ,Any Theme ,Upto A Max Of 14( F O U R T E E N) Lines Poetry Contest : sponsored by Brian Strand
Rising from the desert sand
was a shimmering mirage
of a thousand shouts
Heated winds of fanaticism,
intense and blowing violently loud
Shrill calls to blood prayer seethe,
breathing fiery invocations
of a perverted philosophy
Screaming death to the infidels —
a scarlet smeared mirror reflecting
black cloth covered savagery
Crimson prayers are the daubed untempered mortar
which cements the foundation of this shakily rising kingdom
Whet the glittering scimitar swung grisly:
Beheadings are the blade’s
propaganda recruitment shock TV
Desert crisis ... dreaded carrion claws of ISIS,
oasis mirage bathe the sociopaths in bloody bliss
Mutilated bodies floating upon the desert sea,
a raised dark flag boasts of a fleeting victory
Prideful utterances of unspeakable barbarity
Contemned caliphate mercurial rising ...
now descending quickly below the horizon
Crumbling desert kingdom,
butchery sow the seeds of your ruin
The sand castle rise to power was ever so brief,
a pirated religion kingdom soon to end suddenly
Taking hostage your own faith,
now the proselyte guards are
fleeing from the palace carnage
Crumbling desert kingdom,
butchery sow the seeds of your ruin
Innocent blood spilled in the sand
will be your caliphate’s undoing
Crumbling desert kingdom,
blood reap the harvest of your ruin
Let your prophets of terror and rage
shout a false sanctum call to prayer
Intoning not this one truth: God will surely repay!
Fair dawn awaits
Once more fair dawn awaits the radiant sun
Clothed in her mantle daubed with streaks of light.
And faithful to the course which life must run;
Receives the baton from retreating night.
Remote yet not alone, for down below
Creation is preparing to rejoice;
Faint silhouettes of trees begin to show,
And birdsong swells to greet her in full voice.
The precious golden orb will soon arise
And dawn prepares to slowly slip away
A blush of pink expands across the skies
The sun cuts through at last: a brand new day.
This gift of new beginnings should impart
A sense of awe in every human heart.
The sun shines in perfect darkness, twirling relentlessly ...
as do a trillion trillion other stars, daubed on the blackest black.
Still, life itself seeds and burgeons in the warmth of its precious light,
its particles, the core of an exquisite balance that brings each heart to thrum,
that breaches hard soil in spring, sings the haunting silence of the wilderness,
and bats lashes like butterflies in the wee hours of the dawning.
Some say, a laugh is just a laugh is just a laugh, thus ... and on,
yet, like Great Sol it can plunge any void, dive the deepest sorrows,
wound the twilight, mortal, and pierce the trembling rib of nightmares.
The shimmering joy it dances upon, is the true essence of ALL ...
nothing else so fills a heart or wakens a soul from mourning,
as crucial as breath and sustenance and affection.
Yes, a laugh is a simple thing, a seemingly trivial and mundane expression,
but it is an arrow sent forth from the bow of joyous reality,
a dart of delight, with the capacity to rend the thickest of shadowy veils.
Yet, like the sun again, it is dependent upon its alter-ego -
It is the shadows and dark realms and agonies and regrets
that make joy so exceptionally precious, and so amazingly sweet ...
you can NOT find one without the other, that is unmitigated, absolute.
Feel your pain - your sorrow, embrace the darkness with all you are,
but do so in the mind that until you HAVE, you won't know true JOY ...
or how splendid, cathartic and giggly wonderful ... it can be.
~ 3rd Place ~ in the "The Smile At The Foot Of The Ladder" Poetry Contest, Craig Cornish, Judge & Sponsor.
1#
Brewed tea
Wife and myself
Nothing between us
2#
He was metamorphosed
Into a frog
When his wife had left him
3#
I needed
A lonely woman
Thousand years back
4#
She shivered
In yellow sun
Struck by her coyness
5#
God travels
With three suitcases
One for me
6#
I kissed
Her frostiness
And my lips turned icebergs
7#
The bed
Gets embarrassed
At our nakedness
8#
Her hands
Stopped me
To pick evenings
9#
We two rested
In a cave of Kundalini
Behind the waterfall
10#
The alien woman
Travelled six moons
To deliver her baby in a burial ground
11#
An eagle swoops
On a field –mouse
Tables of wedding
12#
The woman kissed me
I felt her hollow ribs
As if in a spring dream
13#
The woman’s hair
Struck by a gale
Made waterfalls
14#
My wife locked
Me one fine evening
In my neighbour’s hole
15#
The rats are away
When mice take in
My wife’s clammy face
16#
The summer rain
In exasperation
Took wings to raid the moon
17#
Lolo my wife
Her green sleek steps
Thundered an innocent fly
18#
In the dead of night
God made two wives
One for me one for my neighbour
19#
My neighbour’s wife
Delivered a child
When I was asleep
20#
The woman said goodbye
And I took a fish for dinner
I mistook it for my wife
21#
My wife is a canvas
Where I paint
My forebodings
22#
A painter’s apprentice
In sheer foolishness
daubed in red my wife’s rear-view
23#
A squirrel saw my wife
And in haste
Lost her guava
24#
I was caught in neighbour’s bedroom
By my wife last summer
I lost my glasses
25#
A wolf entered the graveyard
Unannounced
And annoyed my wife
26#
Sarah my wife
Lumbering
Dizzy commuters
27#
Sarah wed me
And in brief forgetfulness
Greeted my neighbour
28#
A tiger ate Sarah my wife
It happened by accident
The tiger knows
29#
Morning bell
Wake up call
I want to sleep
30#
Pola my pet fly
Fouled things up
She ate my wife’s breakfast
31#
My dog Pintu
Hydrophobia
I set him free on my wife’s posterior
32#
Eons ago a butterfly
Gave birth to my wife
Now, a caterpillar
33#
A hard slap
Stammering
Hurricane Sarah will win
34#
You have gathered enough winters
Woman sighs
Leave one for me
35#
The woman flapped her wings
To clouded mountaintops
Silky as white
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
LIFE’s INTENTIONS
Across the field in wild proliferation
A multiplicity of forms abound
Not broad brush daubed impressionist collation
But gathering of beings, each one crowned
Every leaf each blade of grass with purpose showing
A will that shall maintain the form alive
From golden flower clock the seeds are blowing
All strive to bring persistence and survive
I see life spark contained within each one
Or is it mere organic chemistry
Or hand of God that draws a thread as spun
And weaves the cloth of every destiny
Explanations are profuse as man’s invention
Nonetheless I’ll not deny a clear intention
WHEREAS
Whereas I see no doubt of life’s intents
All forms self driven to perpetuate
Yet there’s another motive that I sense
That drives those entities to close relate
Each seen to be supportive of another
Although one instinct drives them to compete
While in their interaction as a brother
Contribute to conception more complete
Within a seemed consensual existence
Where help is given willingly or no
In endless reciprocity assistance
Our world proliferates, thus to bestow
The spectrum of creation, whence assigned
Bringing light and satisfaction to my mind
A zephyr skipped along, midday,
Rose-daubed my cheek in ides of May,
As if to goad, and giggling, say -
'My lad, this moment's wasting ...
Such zest waits for the tasting!'
The sea was donning Sunday's best,
With shimmered pearls upon its breast,
Its voice reminding from each crest -
'My lad, the hours are wasting ...
Such wine awaits the tasting!'
New heather danced atop the hills,
With white and pink Chantilly frills,
And sang to me with plaintive trills -
'My lad, the day's a-wasting ...
Such fare waits for the tasting!'
The creeping dusk, swathed in the moon,
Enchanted, blue, each dale and dune,
Then, tender-voiced, began to croon -
'My lad, the night-tide's wasting ...
Romance awaits the tasting!'
Oh, months and years go far too fast,
As dreams are swallowed by the past,
But time still beckons, clear and vast -
'My lad, each breath is wasting ...
There's life left for the tasting!'
There's LIFE left, yet ... so TASTE it!'
Vanishing vestige of dank cavernous lobes
My lonesome forsaken heart adrift
Under the most alluring midnight crescent moon
Towards a horizon yonder daubed with
A loaded paintbrush of golden luminescence
While levitating melodic whispers
Of charm and sorcery perchance connive
Mingling heavenward to set the stage
For a divine encounter with a goddess
Her wafting cloud ever so sublimely hovers
Peculiarly fine exotic spicy fragrance
Ensnaring my compliant heart
By glorious happenstance
Spellbound and mesmerized
Flutters on the wings of dusk
Reawakening a drowsing lust
Rekindling and resuscitating the passion
To a sublime apogee of celestial folly
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on January 18, 2019 for contest EIGHT WORD CHALLENGE-BARDENESQUE sponsored by JOHN HAMILTON - RANKED 1ST
It’s a cold and bloody war
The heart has known many a fear... The eye shed many a tear
And dreams in wrecks have drifted back to shore
The war has been extensive, tumultuous in the mind
Towering over the weariness daubed across grey skies
Are only rare moments of joy fugitive that arise
Within the wall of the heart confined
It’s a cold and bloody war
The heart has known many a fear... The eye shed many a tear
And dreams in wrecks have drifted back to shore
I lead the brave but less cogent troops, with charged bosom
Knowing the sweet cry of victory will ne’er be sung
My blood’s infected with frustration’s venom
The foretaste of defeat is bitter upon my tongue
It’s a cold and bloody war
The heart has known many a fear... The eye shed many a tear
And dreams in wrecks have drifted back to shore
Out of despair I summon the troops to retreat
I recede to safe haven to draw a curtain
I quest horizons more promising to greet
And again engage in battle of victory uncertain
It’s a cold and bloody war
The heart has known many a fear... The eye shed many a tear
And dreams in wrecks have drifted back to shore
Read on air by invitation ~ April 14, 2021 'WORDS & MUSIC'
AP: 2nd place 2022, Honorable Mention 2026, Honorable Mention 2020, Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on May 4, 2025 for contest MEMORIAL DAY sponsored by OLIVER McKEITHAN - RANKED 3RD
on December 23, 2018 for contest 2019 POETRY MARATHON MILE 2 sponsored by MARK TONEY - RANKED 2ND
Once lit by flickering torch light
with animal tallow mixed with ocher
daubed on subterranean rock walls
now lit by streetlights or LED headlamp
slashes of spray paint and magic markers
splattered on concrete bridge abutments,
boxcars, or walls of tenement ghettos,
but the message is the same
we were here.
Once,
I saw rainbows,
across the tear washed sky.
Their iridescent gleam
illumining the astral realm
and spilling down into the waters below.
Buds burgeoning on every branch,
Flowers opening their delicate folds,
and summer bees spiraling around,
gathering nectar for frosty days.
Saw radiant smiles gleaming past,
angelic babes’ innocent face,
Men toiling from dawn to dusk
going about their lives’ odyssey,
Speeding vehicles moving down
as ants, in an unbroken chain,
Nature, posing from time to time
in silken green, amber gold
and in dazzling white
Everything fleeted past,
as through the window
of a speeding train.
Neither did they linger long
nor were they daubed bright
in paints variegated,
on my mind's impressionable canvas
to call them back to mind at will.
I lived my life in acute haste.
Colors, shades and myriad scenes
passed me by as common sight
But now with a heavy mist blocking out my sight
and an inexorable darkness
covering me like a shroud,
plunging me, all of a sudden, into a perpetual night
where sun beams never again shall fall,
I realize with a jolt, how much I have missed
and how much more I will miss!
An evanescent bouquet of skewed briars,
is how a tinsel laden tawdry essence wickedly unfolds ,
scuppered signpost to a fetid human compost,
faint light pendant on soul crushed quantum migrant,
who might chortle at vivid veil flimsy vacuum,
skirt recklessly around bogus symbols,
peer behind the squalid limp sodden hedge,
mock myopic moribund mist upon boundary busting dawn chimera,
sneer at synthetic spectrum elastic in its irritating tidal wave surfeit,
cerulean fabric‘s milky way escape plot,
in a perilous quest for that eternal tape loop mantra,
the synaptic heart of that vainglorious horizon,
self-knowledge under charcoal moon and silver cloud veneer,
or feral waste rapid fire contagion,
the indecisive day glow dither on the margins ,
of fly weight feeble frantic dash,
that velvet shadow treason daubed pettifog,
known as tangential wanton cobweb fester creed,
the mind a bloated ripple vortex numbing in its scope,
golden mirage but faux fur real concoction,
against the banal backdrop of complex-ridden superficial eddy,
from floral garland poseur stricken en train,
some vox pop indignation mere shrinking violet showcase waver,
the gleam-hued truth has this dastardly demonic derailment,
that I brush aside as spiteful oxalic sting repost,
that deceptive mint green forest of chameleon cant,
sly nuanced molten maple syrup hint,
from out of kilter tree pierce otherworld,
unseen yet bliss-edged virtual garden of firm conviction,
not just from isolated enigmatic individual script,
such as torrid turbulence or mindless scattered rim shot,
when conventions can be altered in exotic prose,
human zeitgeist has this far too often penchant,
for silkworm rapt effervescent double speak,
whilst plain unvarnished uplifting utterance,
resides within the deep crystal spring well,
of us torch aloft emerald earthling sages,
please augment the rock buttress stark phrase,
whose bluntness is a carrier pigeon of candor,
devoid of muted gray cloud blind waffle,
aromatic sprig to giant spasm of bold pluck,
quandary of human race at hearth,
frightened cliques, hidebound yes men who yen,
to swim the azure gulf of august freedom,
to the Eden where lucid tongues herald pristine witness.
where values at the centre of our being should blossom
I have little to say
as an avalanche of maple
spills over the back fence
and water weighted branches,
heavy with the perfume of rain,
bow and bend
in a slight breeze
and the dry throats of hollyhocks
are quenched and dribble
an excess down
stems that yesterday
stooped and wilted
under a hot sun.
And what can I say
as a profusion of green glistens
in the early morning light
and leaves wear a fresh glaze
in the cool air. How everything
has changed, gorged now
on an infusion of wet
as I walk under the trees,
daubed and dabbed
with rainwater, feeling
the sweet damp of a joy
left here as it was
passing through
late last night and now
whatever I could say
would not be enough.
In lands of sun, a city stands apart,
A rare and misty jewel of human art.
Not built on easy plains or common ground,
But where the sea and golden hills are found.
The fog rolls in, a phantom, cool and grey,
To shroud the towers at the close of day.
It moves like the past, through the single gates,
A whispered mystery that the hour waits.
Its hills are vertical, a winding dream,
With cable cars that climb against the stream.
Victorian houses, daubed bright and bold,
A story in each cornice, we are told.
Where tech and grit in restless union meet,
And every vista feels, a brand new feat.
From Coit’s peak to the bridge’s arching wire,
San Francisco sets the rare soul on fire.
A compact wonder, singular and grand,
The rarest city in this western land.