Best Dizzying Poems


Premium Member A Strange Galaxy

When I gaze into this realm, I see more than the dazzling array
     of golden starbursts floating in a cosmic sea of blue-green-gray,
   photoreceptors painting post-Impressionistic explosions of colors,
       fibers and dilator muscles servicing your ocular aperture.

I see distinctive melanin patterns of a truly original individual -
     a retinal scan of exceptional singularity,
   each nebula unique, every supernova peculiar,
      no quasar like any other.

I passionately absorb with one brief glance
     an infinity of nuance,
   an eternity of historical archives,
       a heaven and earth of emotional journeys.

I am reading your autobiography, the encyclopedia of you.
     I remain a student of your sclera,
   a pupil of your pupils,
       a Vincent of your irises,

going half-mad with the dizzying vastness
of the starry night within your eyes.
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Black and White

I am like an avalanche slithering in shivering angst,
free-falling into an abyss of an aching era,
where luminous lakes reflect pixelated regrets,
for time throws my canvas into splitting helplessness,
and mind plays tricks in aimless frequency, 
framing toneless tenors within paralyzed psyche,
pushing and pulling ivory strings of my ebony heart.

Now I’m dwelling in the chaotic caves of a calculative carnivore,
unable to grasp the lunar light that envelopes forsaken fields, 
while crooning caged memories, like a pensive nightingale,
pondering, would the moon ever untangle these starless thoughts? 
Or was it written on the wailing walls  of melancholic museums~
that I was meant to drown in dizzying darkness?

I’ll rest my pen in a glass casket of equations~
cloaking this crippled conscience from seeing beyond vague visions,
detached from kohl eyes, eager to steal my voice,
as I keep sinking in black and white polarity, 
pausing curative prose in screeching silence.

O Glorious Autumn

O glorious Autumn of melancholic 
Gold -
All abouts the brightly lit
Woodlands
Your wonderful artistry behold!
Tinted bronzes,
Darting between awkward firs
Of sobering Evergreen,
Loiter inside mauve havens
Splashed with palest yellows -
And dappled with many differing 
Limes
Throughout this variegated Theme;
A myriad of rustling contentment,
Sweetest contrasting charms,
Complimentary...
Softly whispering leafy hues...
Hushed...most elegantly serene.
 
Bursting into the swelling copses 
And invading between the 
Dwindling fields:
Auburn, primrose and lilac views -
Abundant with seasons 
Celebrations
That so magnificently infuse!
Glowering in simmering sunset,
And spluttering in misty dawn:
Afire with all the orbs oozing 
Revelry, 
That upon barkened furniture,
To thus gild - and resplendently
Adorn!

Now is the time
That dry tinkling leaves
Give musical resonance 
To a breath exhaled from
A breeze...
Fanning the boughs roaring flames
That each out-stretched branch 
does eagerly seize,
Fired from the eternal torch
That immortal Ceridwen tirelessly
Sought;
Whilst I hang upon evocative
Memories
That this arresting moment briefly 
Caught.

Blazing with a consummate passion
Ignited from a poets grappling 
Thoughts:
The Muses to this joyous splendour
Were summarily summoned
And brought;
But as elusive as the enchanting
Notes
From the intoxicating pipes of 
Evasive Pan...
So as elusive the words of the 
Unwritten verse 
That so evade this singular man.

So burn! You gaily painted colours,
Within abandoned restrain,
Your dizzying carousel 
A whirling kaleidoscope 
Upon an artists ever changing frame.
Soft ochres and dappled browns
Mixed with vivid orange and crimson
Red...
Applied lavishly from the palette 
Of Artemis 
Over which the vibrant pastes 
Are thinly spread.

A riot of pastel shades
All exploding forth -
With the raging power of a 
Supernova
Of an immense, dazzling force!
All hail to the almighty:
From the devout to the Divine...
And all hail to the Grandeur 
And Majesty -
Of his awe-inspiring design!


Premium Member Transformation

In dizzying rounds rain goes up and down; 
see the heat of the day steamroll the lawn.
Mist ascends; then back again, dew rebounds;
to bathe the leaves, kiss the breeze, rain fawns.
A lawn moss green down by the stream at dawn 

is frosted with a sprite haze of frail fog.
Born of goosebump nights are damp morns,
where water falls translucent in the bog.
With a sizzling sound the rain dropped adorns  
the lilies in the bog on rheumy morns.

On mountains high the rain falls white disguised 
as snow; sun turns snow to ice, down it goes.
In dizzy rounds rain pounds, the sun complies  
and all this a high power has composed.
Water disguised is a gift that God's composed.

The Private Lives of Those I'Ve Loved

The hutch 
like everything else in this house is
crooked.  A slanting hardwood floor 
and the burnished ends 
of an ancient table. 

An ever rounding table 
"a table with history" she says, 
a lineage with the cut 
and lineaments 
of the eight-score man who built it. 

The eerie, beautiful portrait 
of some great-  great-  great- 
someone-or-other 
hangs so solemnly with Victorian grace 
the nail has begun to bend, 
but she will never fall. 

One cabinet for the silver 
and wine glasses 
has been painted triple-white 
and sunk into the wall like a safe. 
Its shelves boiled clean 
to hide their ignoble wood
(probably pine).

Not like the Oak left bare-  
the smell and musk 
of those dark hand-hewn ceiling beams 
and the redolence  
from somewhere behind the house 
of deep-purple lilacs 
growing fat like grapes. 

Outside, the painted gardens swirl together 
in a dizzying carousel of color and light
with short, fat brush strokes
and heavy, bold shadows;
the flowers burn from the healthy soil 
replacing sand from ten years ago.
200 bags of fertilizer and now: 

A nightgowned woman plays firefighter 
every morning with a green hose, 
keeping up with the investment.

Premium Member Nocturnal Contagion

While it feels in the noontide, just steps through the trees,
As the sky bleeds to twilight – the sweetest disease.
On a walk through the maples, an itch of romance, 
As a warm breeze courts Eros at gloaming's advance.

Just a glance woos the shivers, through come hither eyes,
Nervous hands - now perspiring, by moonlight’s devise. 
Down a path softly swaying, then slowly a waltz, 
Till a feverish tango as all reason halts.

Soon the knees start to wobble and vision subsides,
As the world falls from focus in dizzying strides. 
There’s no end to the sickness on warm summer strolls,
Should the moon cast its toxin on amorous souls.

                               **12/14/2017**
© David Mohn  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member You Are Water

You are water~
fluid moods
overflowing extremes

I dip my toes 
testing
should I dive in
this time
will  y o u  let me sink or swim
have you  r e a l l y  changed

you are a lagoon
soothing   cooling
tranquil
for now   I float
in sweet oblivion

you are a shimmering mirage
of something I hope for
illusional life-giver
a fertile oasis in arid land
giving love unhurt to my heart
you move like an undulating river
natural   flowing   dynamic   definite
sailing the curves 
taking me places never imagined
when we're apart

you are a flash flood
white water without warning
cleansing  destructive 
baptizing both good and evil

you are a raging waterfall
beautiful in your steep revenge
threatening to roil me over the edge

you are a tsunami!
born of violent eruption
mortifying  underestimated   overwhelming
growing larger as I let you get closer
sweeping me up
slamming me along
with the rest of your emotional debris

you are a MAELSTROM!
dizzying  swallowing   suffocating
K i l l i n g
spinning
sucking me down
down
through the center
of a drowning depression

nooo
your circular violence  
h a s n ' t  changed

Premium Member Pissful Religion

God sometimes does pray to man;
Quite often we hear him not.
But once above the din of earthly prayer 
I did hear his voice;
Through the dizzying whir of angels' wings 
His prayer came loud and clear;
A prayer in a tongue I can scarce recall 
But which I did to English render.

Priests of the faiths, shepherds of my flock: 
Shall you like the devil not hear my prayer?
My words find room in your ears but none 
in your hearts,
And so the faithful wander astray from holy 
to hollow creed—
The hollow creed of pissful religion.
I can nowhere look and not meet their flights 
of insanity;
And nowhere go and not leave un-torn by 
their evil ways:
From crimes against humanity,
To drives against womanity--
All wrought in the name of Heaven.

In prayer I now command:
Reach out your staff each day and by its crook 
draw the flock near.
Teach them that to answer my prayers is the
highest form of worship
And that man is borne to me not by the things 
he drives but by the things that drive him.
Hand them the one compass of golden truth
Whose artless needle ever swings with passion 
away from their crooked altars 
To point fixedly at my eternal word as to 
conscience revealed.
If these words still shall not bend them to the 
light
Then, perhaps, my wrath will
When upon their heads it descends
Like a whip of lightning cracking on earth's 
bare back.

Premium Member Just Say No

Just say no to sunshine
Trying to penetrate your dark doom
Wrap your black cloud around its fire 
Smoother it in your tears, in your grief
In your past trauma
Feel it struggle in your stranglehold
Feel its energy released, drained,
Spent in your grasp
As happiness gasps dying
Drooping, whithering away
Should it rise again to sear your darkness
Murder it
You're so good at feeling hopeless
Why try to feel anything but
Slay it again and again
Every time it swells up in you
Tempts you to believe that it will last
It will stay, it will dwell deep in your heart
Forever
Convincing you with slippery slick sly serpent tongue
To let the big lie slide inside you (again)
Where you tend it, hydrate it, and grow it
Until its even bigger than before
(Really)
Yeah... and you let it fill you up
Lift you
Thrust you gravity free
Ride that rocket to dizzying, breathtaking
Earth shattering heights
From which you know you'll be
Shot down like a rainbow
Stretched over the sky
In a spectacular, sparkling, dizzying
Exploding array of glittering joy
Spritzing the heavens, drizzling down
Coating your heart with sweet, warm
Delicious love
Only to have that scorching light

That blasted you full

Retreat from the depths of your darkness

And leave you emptier than before

Sighing with despair 

F___ sunshine

Premium Member SMALL, SILVER MINNOWS

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I reached for it~
the way one gropes
for a light switch in an unfamiliar room,
fingers brushing the dark,
expecting edges, warmth,
but finding only air.

What was it?
A name half-whispered,
a key left dangling in a lock,
a joke without its punchline
dissolving into static.

Now it circles,
a moth with singed wings,
dizzying the periphery~
so close I taste its rust,
so far it might as well be
the shadow of a crow
passing over the sun.

I laugh, mostly to stop
the hollow in my ribs from echoing
the same old question:
What was I thinking?

But the mind is a sieve,
and some thoughts
are meant to slip through~
small, silver minnows
vanishing into deeper water.

Cafe Terrace At Night

CAFE   TERRACE   AT   NIGHT           (Van  Gogh)


Orbital focus of assured kindness and hospitality
From the waitress in long white apron
Where time stands still for a moment,
Where the  golden interior glow of the shelter
Gravitates under  the canvas roof and
Permits a little topaz flavor to anoint  the cobbled street,
Its dark forbidding geometry of the night, 
Its  silhouetted shapes  of blackened  houses
Whose dead windows suggest only a half life,
Whose clock tower suggests the running sands of time, 
While  dizzying stars, circular orbs of cold white,
Stare unblinking at the colors uncertain 
In a neighbourhood of crumbling age,
On the pavement of uncertain difficult cobbles.
The café is not crowded but it is the sun 
For the people orbiting its warmth.

Premium Member Mindful of Solar Eclipse

MINDFUL OF SOLAR ECLIPSE

He’s coming with his dark glasses
and dizzying smile

He’s stopping by for a minute or two
a minuet of manic joy

He covers the sun with his steady hand
she tingles with trepidation

Will she be blotted out from his employ
she wipes off sweat as he passes by

Merely a warning of end times
dark days of deepened sin

We watch with amusement
arm in arm on love boats

Standing in main line parks
finding the perfect spot

Would we find the perfect standing of our heart
a bond with the patient perfect God

When the cross covered the earth in darkness
men of old took note

When the stone rolled away from the sun
the eclipse was eradicated

Emblematic pain or joy of your soul
gaze up with future foretold 

8/21/2017
An unrhymed couplet
Strand’s Standard Contest NO 30
1st Place

Penny For the Guy

 On
a cold
autumn eve,
playful fingers
tangled, soft and shy.
The smell of hot chestnuts
wafted through the milling crowd,
a promise of comfort and warmth.
We watched, you and I, the skies explode
as rockets declared their secret desires. 
Catherine wheels danced a dizzying response
while the bang of crackerjacks echoed,
spilling smoke quick into the night.
"Penny for the guy?", they cried.
Sparklers lit, searching lips,
the most tender touch.
We kissed, my heart 
reflected
in your 
eyes.


Date: 25.11.2016

*There is no category for a double etheree that I could see.

Premium Member Village Love

sordid floors
dark paths
lily scented nights 
crispy country air
crackling fireplaces
shadows under the moon
sounds of the night
silence in the dark
mingling
tangoing 
in perfect pitch 
the harmonious beat
of intoxicating drums
the twirling dance
of dizzying 
village 
love

Traveling Light

I am a photon
a tiny bundle of energy.
My brothers and I
oscillate in synchronized breath;
as a wave, 
we hurtle
through black  voids,
three hundred thousand kilometers
each second,
a dizzying ride.

Four years ago,
we were flung 
from the fire of a star.
A long journey,
but not a lonely one,
for there are many of us.

We are nearing
a beautiful planet
where green continents swim 
in blue oceans.
I hope we arrive
in deep darkness
when their star
is on the other side.

Perhaps one of their beings,
gazing at the sky,
receives us.
We will slow down
as we travel
through the gelatinous matter
of her eye
and die 
on her retina.
I will no longer be,
but her miraculous brain
will decode our message:
there was a star.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace