Best Disperses Poems
On a golden carpet of lustrous laurel
another red leaf in amber blaze gleams,
twirling to trumpets in waltz so aural
blanket of glorious crimson autumn dreams.
Iridescent veil orchestrates blue fir trees
maple shimmers in draped sequins of crystal dew,
swaying to layered hums of shivering breeze
blazing in flames of proliferous mauve hue.
Immersed in aroma of wet mountain slumber
lavender dusk nervously cuddles silver frost,
spreading gossamer melody on emerging umber
bathing in scarlet rays, broken twigs embossed.
Symphony of scintillating fervent topaz seas
disperses from azure palate on electric sky,
dripping to crevices of haloed tides to appease
mellows of echoing wind for sandcastles to fly.
Exploding ecstasy of an embellished petal springs
peeping through rivulets in reaping wisps of desire,
to a moonlit bridge, my whispering red leaf clings
longing to strum tender strings in autumn's bonfire.
August 6, 2020
Nature Rhyming Poetry Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Brenda Chiri
~Winner: 2nd Place
The Minions
Minions Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
A versifier indeed, crowding the tiny city dwellers,
above the rest flying with the strongest propeller.
In day he disperses many tiny pieces of torn up paper,
at night he sits on his throne as an intimidating dictator.
The little people do as told following the confused story teller,
after all, they were treated as undesirable city dwellers.
If they don't run past the finish line they get reprimanded,
If only they knew following him was never recommended.
Early afternoon he leads them to a walk in his park,
little does he know when running they wish to disembark.
The dwellers know better than to follow him in his maze,
the more they learn of him, the more they feel crazed.
Some stay and some go, but no matter what the decision,
there is so much conflict, the town turned into a division.
Separated qualifications in regards to frugal injustice,
There may be more than one leader, a dedicated accomplice.
Beneath the caves and in front of the chair of the monarch,
he leaves trails of empty promises leading into his landmark.
Finally the city dwellers learned that it's time to be righteous,
and the look upon their faces was stunning and priceless.
The old versifier ended up living to an old age of grey,
he wondered why in the end they didn't want to obey.
Date Written: February 16, 2016
I turn to my girl highlighting Mayday is near
A day of spectacle that the whole village views
There's Jesters of folly and Knights without fear
Witnessing lances and jokes, always going askew
To view such we can venture along different ways
We can stroll by the river listening to many sounds
In awe as we walk amidst most wondrous displays
That on any given day beautiful vistas abound
Decisions, decisions, as we contemplate which way
It's such a special day wondering what to wear
Beauty personified will my Olive be on this day
Knights or Royal Princes, all they can do is stare
So tomorrow we've decided to be our chosen route
Two hearts in decision, declaring what's their suit
Mayday morn now greets as I turn next to me
She my guiding light as beautiful as the dawn
Excitement illuminates for into her eyes I see
Onto my back I lie, that feel she's now upon
Into this day we go heading along the river
Crystal clear translucent such serenity in it's flow
Under greened canopies cooled shaded deliver
Wafting leaved dress in delightful fanned throw
We sense the clearings near for scents we sense
Sporadic clusters in capture of welcoming eyes
Mayday games have started, distant heard suspense
Knights on horseback mounted, now in espy
Now we're in amidst encapsulated we now are
She's here to cheer, her Sir James, soon to spar
Balcony she now awaits, white steed he's now astride
Blinkered pairings gallop towards intended foe
To win this Mayday he, to fight for her his bride
Eliminate his enemy, witness his crimson flow
His lance in now connect, thrown metal disperses
Petals of beauty hurled of rainbows selected
Images of we, now thinking marital rehearses
To know on this day, her intended she's elected
Moments of their previous now in recent past
Knowing they're now free in kaleidoscopic stream
Spectrum of feelings now in view full cast
In colourful extremes, fight for your dreams
.
There it was gazing up – radiant –
radiating kaleidoscope silver green;
sharp with life, ready and expectant.
Spreading its claim, pressing out the grass,
was a thistle born from last year's seed unseen.
From where had it blown here to outclass
the perennials of the turf? Its time
now come to arise from the meadow supreme,
preparing to host bug life full time.
Come July it will fuzz with purple
flowers as a crown for a victorious queen,
armed with many a prickled sepal.
Visited by suppliant insects
who set and array her seeds; a frothy scene
for finches' feast. Passing air extracts,
disperses the progeny abroad
to wherever to be ready, once more unseen
between the blades never overawed;
a tribute to the Creator Lord.
Within my psychedelic psychosis divided by hell’s malignant mitosis,
Navigated by narcotized neurosis absorption through opiate osmosis…
Within my lunatic leverage of will, I needed to miraculously madly mill,
The negligent neurons of my ill amidst a faltering fragment of my spill.
My eyes that bear the bevel upon derelict distortions of a devious devil,
Laboring the leprous level of the seismic seizures that I neatly nestle…
In the abyss of my lacrimal laugh, I stand segmental with my satirical staff,
Decorative deceptions on my behalf as I stare at the world a genuine gaffe.
No real resolution to ponder for the quicksand of mind quivers yonder,
A sinkhole of a weeping wander amongst sacrifices of a slaving squander…
Thus in my sanctimonious seclusion within my catacombs of confusion,
The universe disperses diffusion along with programmatic parallel illusion.
June.06.2019
Eight Word Challenge
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
Placed 5'th...Thank You
Cousin of the daisy, and born on summer's breeze,
It becomes a bright seedling of pale, green leaves.
In sunshine, it grows, as its edges become jagged,
Like a shooting star whose course goes zig-zagged!
Maturity brings longer leaves that spread around,
And milky roots that sink deeply into the ground.
When by some mystery calendar, at uncertain hour,
A lovely, yellow bloom captures you in its power!
The flower at last becomes a small, brown fruit,
For another generation is in summertime pursuit;
And the pappus disperses new seeds to the breeze,
To grow in foreign meadows and sunlit valleys!
The bitterness brims and bubbles away
As the heart that once felt love over-spills.
Leaving only burnt ashes left to stay
Betrayal hurts more, as vengeance distills.
As the heart that once felt love over-spills
Venomous asps bite down on softest flesh.
Betrayal hurts more, as vengeance distills
The surface punctures are now simply etched.
Venomous asps bite down on softest flesh
Deception manifests into such hate.
The surface punctures are now simply etched
Veins filled with poison, it's maybe too late.
Deception manifests into such hate
No antidote, only suffering pride.
Veins filled with poison, it maybe too late
Fighting the toxin that's built up inside.
No antidote, only suffering pride
Water disperses as, bloods thickening.
Fighting the toxin that's built up inside
So lay down and die, or wake up and win.
Water disperses as, bloods thickening
Leaving only burnt ashes left to stay.
Don’t lay down and die, just wake up and win
As bitterness brims and bubbles away.
Sweet as Christmas candy cane
She takes away my pain
Embellishes low spirts
Then she’ll crystallise the rain
With care, wraps up my anguish
Topped off with festive bow
Ensures there’s room within her inn
When I have no place to go
She jingles my bells when I’m going through hell
turns my tears into to snow flakes
With her jovial spell
Illuminates darkness with twinkling lights
embraces me warmly When Jack Frost bites
She’s a gift of the very highest degree
My Angel
My star
Adorning my tree
The most precious of baubles
Such a Yuletide time cracker
She can loose herself in this seasonal Chatter
She disperses my worries
and breaks them all down
They don’t seem so huge
As they fall to the ground
Like a magical snow globe
She shakes up my sadness
She’s my sparkling tinsel
and fills me with gladness
My dearest of friends who I treasure so deeply
Always thinking of others
and sings oh so sweetly
The tune of this heavenly holy night
Sprinkling hope as saint Nicholas takes his flight.
In Favor of the Storm
The clouds are gathering in the distance..
They will be here soon.
The colors are important.
White, black, gray,
and mixtures of blue, gold and green.
The ocean has come to the sky.
It is full of water,
and the torment of the sea.
The fluffy softness disperses
in favor of sharp lines
and electric lights...
of all kinds.
The lightning flashes,
the thunder rolls,
and giants in the heavens
stomp, and romp about.
It is so loud now,
you can barely here a shout.
Small droplets,
large tears of rain,
balls of ice, the size of your fist fall,
and make all who are tall,
small.
The deluge continues,
until the crops have failed,
the mountains have slid down to the sea.
The people have changed,
and they are not the same anymore.
Some gather and cry,
while others look up at the sky... still.
The sun returns,
and with it...
a new hope of a new day,
comes with her.
Yet,
nothing
is
promised.
Fluttering and flattering for all who see,
her brilliance gleams in my cherry blossom tree-
Clouds do part when she w a v e s her wings,
and stunning luster to the sky she brings.
Deep azure with a dark chameleon hue,
periwinkle wings s t r e a m i n g hints of baby blue-
flipping and flapping ~divine inspiration~
the butterfly...a lovely God-given creation.
She sings in tune with melodious sprinkles,
and all her stardust s p r e a d s and twinkles-
Medallion sunshine follows where she leads
as she disperses in my garden daisy seeds.
Plants flourish from her s c a t t e r i n g nectar juice,
an elixir feeding mother nature; the perfect use-
She liberates herself with fortitude from her cocoon
in the heat of Summertime, the end of June.
For she is eternally luminous (glistening),
and I can hear her echo when I'm listening-
Clouds do part when she w a v e s her wings...
and stunning luster to the sky she brings.
October 2, 2019
Writing Challenge, October -Butterfly-
Sponsor, Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode
Today the sky seems a different shade of blue,
and the sun disperses an even more radiant ray of light.
All changed the day I found you -
you took the weight of the world off my shoulders.
Time turned the pages of my wary life,
and so I realized that I have never seen the Heavens this bright.
Bitterness clouded my perception of true beauty,
and now there is no more crying myself to sleep at night.
Now, as I lay my head down on my pillow,
something similar to a smile crosses my face.
I know now not a moment of sorrow
… except when you are apart from me
and as the stars shiver in the distance,
and the moon drapes its face down upon me -
I thank the Lord looking down from above,
for showing me True Beauty…
Only certain people possess the strength to be great
Each and everyday you have to unbend what they tried
to break. You have to be very aware of what
is at stake so you fake your way through because
you can't let a hint of the pain escape.
It takes a day by day fight and sometimes
the inner turmoil starts to boil to the surface.
When the doubts come about all you want to
do is lay low and off the radar like a hidden
criminal but everyone notices. They point you
out and quickly collect the amount just so they
can step over you and make sure you never
amount to anything.
It's when your beaten down that
it hurts the worse god isn't watching now
so that's when the devil lays his curse.
All the good fortune disperses and your so low
that your plastered to the ground like cement
It's after all the pain and the falling down that
you find yourself. It's after your been scarred
that the courage unfolds and lets itself be known.
Now you are whole.
There are beautiful creatures to grace plains.
There are beautiful flowers for bouquets.
There are beautiful people …
natural and otherwise.
Whether people, creatures or flowers,
there is beauty all around.
One cannot tell at first glance, beauty
without from beauty within.
Beauty in creatures is the natural order of things.
They fill a niche and some do it better than others.
The Andean bear is beautiful because –
It eats fruits and berries, travels long distances
and disperses seeds. It fulfills a good purpose
making the earth more beautiful and productive.
I suppose that to another Andean bear
beauty might seem only skin deep; but in reality there is more!
All creatures have some beauty. Mankind sometimes misses it.
Take the water hyacinth that looks very beautiful at first glance.
Looking deeper one sees that it spreads rampantly
and causes big problems to water navigation.
So, is it not beautiful anymore? Florida has outlawed it.
But, look closer. It is very high in nutritional value.
Did you ever try a water hyacinth stir-fry?
Neither have I, but this prolific plant could feed the world.
And would not that be beautiful!
Then, we ask. What makes a person beautiful?
Is it socialized cosmetic practices or substance within?
Can beauty be one without the other? I say, yes … or both.
Beauty is more than meets the eye it is in the purity of life.
It is essence of the soul within that makes a beautiful person.
It is kindness, compassion, understanding, care, virtue,
meekness, patience, helpfulness, love and more.
There is some measure of beauty in every person,
but man sometimes misses it.
Let us look for the beauty that each person has
…and love one another.
12/27/2016
Learn about the Water Hyacinth if you wish.
http://www.eattheweeds.com/water-hyacinth-stir-fry-2/
I. The ground fog that rises from dappled fields
Full of the scent of the earth and all living things,
Musky like dirt and fragrant like flowers,
Floating like wedding sheets,
Layers of microbes and dust, pollution too
Reflecting sun’s heat back into space,
Saving us all from death by global warming,
That ripple, unashamed in the morning breeze
If only you had eyes to see as I do,
The passion of the night rekindled
In dawn’s earliest light with ghostly echoes
Of the sacred and the profane,
God Himself, blessing both outcomes,
As ground fog gradually disperses
With the sunrise, day’s holy light.
II. The hot-air balloon that penetrates
The temple scented clouds that frame earth itself,
Earth as God sees it, the blue planet
A crown jewel in the house that God built.
Clouds whose sharp boundaries seem to vanish
As you approach them, more like, in fact,
The mist of lovers’ imaginations
Than something that can be pinned down
And displayed in a glass topped box
As one might store bought butterflies,
A cruel mockery of nature for impatient spectators
Who carry their dreams in a bag on their back,
As if they might otherwise fly away, or perhaps,
They fear that they will never come again.
III. The drops of moisture that condense
Around particulate matter we barely notice
Thinking the sky especially clear today,
As we shamelessly burden Mother Nature.
Snow flakes too form in this same fashion,
All life dependent on pollution of some kind,
Natural processes do clean the air given time,
And yet it may still be that
Earth itself is skating on thin ice.
Pardon me if I suggest that we first do no harm,
If we all live beyond our means today,
What future waits our unborn heirs?
I, for one, feel quite uncomfortable wondering
If the only reason I am not dead from global warming,
As seems possible, is air pollution from jet planes.
But unanswered still my poem’s quest,
‘If I could I would be’ ground fog, rain,
Or bright red balloon, but why?
One answer sure is poetry is born
In images like these and I would please
A heart that grasps what image tells,
Though mine be poetry’s most flagrant verse…
IV. The one you notice…
Brian Johnston
February 7, 2015
As ashen storm clouds brew above his head,
his furrowed brow denotes catastrophe.
The lash of his tongue like fire brings such dread
a broken heart is all she can foresee.
Heated anger joins the howl on winds misled,
a wild child of tantrum's misdirected decree,
his glacial heart disperses rocky scree.
As ashen storm clouds brew above his head.
Mother melts beneath his glare, few tears shed
for him to see, her child she's failed by degree.
Oh, all the signs of madness she'd misread,
his furrowed brow denotes catastrophe.
His wrath unleashed, now gone his kinder creed
though she still sees his arms widespread,
perhaps, a mother's love can intercede?
The lash of his tongue like fire brings such dread.
Unless his anger's dampened it may spread
destroying the bonds of sweet felicity,
if she can not hold on to love's thread
a broken heart is all she can foresee.
Son can't you see the sun high overhead
upon his cheek a tears falls silently,
with her arms outstretched his mother plead
and on her shoulder he rested sullenly,
as ashen storm clouds brew.