Best Dense Poems
Days are slow nights so peaceful
The hate is leaving not quite as vengeful
The hurt remains as scars always do
Ur image fades the longer I go without seeing you
The apprehension of speaking what I use to feel
Is fading for you no longer seem real
Your love was smoke in space and time
Was never true and contained too much grime
Your lies altho they stung gave way to a lesson
That love so dense when gone is a blessing
On a hazy day, in the mid of the jungle
through the dense rain forest, we trek;
Where astounding waterfalls spread smoke
and the various birds sing melodious jingles
Swaying lofty trees filter the sunlight,
cause the shadowy effect inside ;
They do sieve worldly sounds and impure air
and so the serene surreal ambience stays there
The recent rains flattened some tall trees
but equally granted the unique mushrooms;
Though the route is really tough and rough
the fragrance of the fresh rains embrace
Those lush green fungi on the rocks
do try too hard to block our walk;
Rustling the leaves, snakes move to bush,
discerning the scene, the poor rats ambush
Oops, these leaches suck my blood
and my shoes often stuck in the mud;
Our signposts are those largest footprints
of the giant elephants and trails of these tiny ants
Dreamlike journey it is, to meet imaginary animals;
Our target is to encounter those ethereal creatures
that we often hear and see in comics and animation films
but other than those animals we have seen so many things
Lion tailed macaque, Nilgiri tahr,
Great hornbill, Indian Giant squirrels
and the other colorful birds that are rare
look cuter than those unreal creatures
Trancelike travel inside the jungle
make us behold the real beauties;
Finally reached the plain grass land,
where the sun leers amid the blue screen.
The footsteps we trace, not just taken us to the plain
The tranquillity they offer, help us perceive the heaven
It's the great hike that raises our energy levels
It's the toughest trek that weakens our stress devil
May 26 2021
For the contest Writing prompt- dreamlike by Constance La France
I never go to the doctors much at all.
My new primary inherited me when
my prior doctor left last fall.
I made the appointment because I was sick
and feared I'd been bitten by a Lyme's tick.
When I asked the new doctor to order a
Western Blot, the most accurate test,
this is what I got.
"I've been practicing medicine for thirty years,"
his volume increased as it burned my ears.
"Your blood pressure is high", obvious to see,
and then he proceeded to lecture me...
"Your vessels have narrowed, probably full of plaque.
Your going have a stroke or a heart attack".
This doctor must have thought me deaf or may be just
dense. I got a good dose of his arrogance.
I don't remember asking for a prescription for mean but
he was definitely the angriest doctor I've ever seen.
Well, off to see my cardiologist.
His bed side manner is the best.
Listen closely, for the eternal silence spreads like a dense fog over the world,
a profound quiet that penetrates the temples of the soul and the forests of thought,
a wave of calm that flows through the rivers of time and the valleys of our dreams,
for this world is a tapestry of illusions and hidden truths, an endless search
in the depths of being, and eternity, that silent sage, does not listen to our murmur,
but observes us with its stone eyes, beyond the horizon of any quest,
like a master who knows that the journey is more important than the destination.
I close my eyes and let myself be carried by the flow of my consciousness, a river of images
that intertwine and unravel, like the withered leaves of a spiritual autumn,
I wonder if perhaps everything is just a journey, a story written by a traveler
who has wandered through all the corners of the soul, and in this silence,
I wonder if we are just the steps of his dream, dancing on the edge
of an unwritten path, with the wings of the soul spread toward the infinity of the unknown.
And if eternity does not see us, if it cannot hear us, then what are we,
but echoes of a forgotten journey, reverberations of a verse never spoken,
in this dance of silence, we lose and find ourselves, only to lose ourselves again,
perhaps that is the beauty of a life lived as an endless journey,
the lack of meaning gives us the freedom to discover our own truth,
in the smile of a star that fades, in the tear of a morning that will never come,
in this infinite silence that envelops us like a garment of unspoken words,
a journey that knows everything is just a dance of light and shadow, a game of the soul
where only silence has the last word, as a testament of an endless quest.
Dense forest Sarah
One thrilled hunter's darting thrust
Moon wanes mountain sleeps
A dense fog, a dense fog, it is so thick
My eyes cannot reach the other side of the street
I looked around, to my left, and to my right,
But I cannot see anything more than a meter wide
I know I am surrounded by a blanket of fog
But I cannot imagine how these could take
Such a blanket that isolated me from the world
But God! But Fate! you did it, you did it!
I seemed seeing you were snapping fingertips
Spreading billions of tiny droplets into my world,
Creating such an impenetrable cloak,
That could shut out my bright light
And making me shiver in front of your rights!
Oh my God! Wow, my Fate! you did it, you did it!
Knitting the pain, loss, fear, and self-doubt
A suffocating blanket blurring my life to this extent
Dense fog
Sunrise hidden
Cold penetrates
Three golden pears still hang
Waiting their time of ripeness
The owl hoots
Vignette
Dense With No Common Sense
Boy her buttocks were really a beauty
Half crazy and called her Totty Fruity
Which half it was never would knew
Until War of Crimea had been through.
War was fairly fought for criminy's sake
And we understood it was total mistake
Instead of President he was running
Was at Trump Tower pool there sunning.
As up all of his food he was chewing
Eyes gluing on pretty women now viewing
Who with was always mentally abusive
On him we decided to do an exclusive.
Where would we stop and what should be excluded
By him, bunch of rednecks had been deluded
Neither his head nor he was ever on the level
Said he was made to do things by the devil.
He chewed and chewed off things bit by bit
After becoming dastardly devil's advocate
Preferred people who are disturbing and dense
Never knowing how to use any common sense.
James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
Tim is so dense he never understands
Little wife Rosemary's hint of pretense
He cuddles her tender boobs
with sneak attacks on pubis
Oblivious to her sense of defense.
Aggravated Mind!
Exacerbated and Tried!
Alleviation Sigh~
soft drift flow
escapologist kin
leopard shrine mute
Puffs of white fog which hung there like frozen cabbage —Donald McCaig
A dense peasouper
blurs her face in midwinter
coarse grass left standing.
The Supreme Court unites but Trump bites
How dare that Court grant Hispanics rights?
Mariachi bands
Will ruin Trump's plans
That 4th of July bash for White Knights!
dense mobility
of learners in chairless room
stops at wet market
A room filled with tension
It’s like you can taste some particles
that is combined to pressurize the atmosphere.
Smelling like a room locked up for ages on no end
But the last of tears still occupies the
vividly colored space.
The lost forbidden room.