Best Domes Poems
My love, do you ever know...
In your moments of hushed silence,
I am your sound;
You are the rhythm
of the symphonic waves
in the vast sea
of my romantic verses;
Jasmine blooms, fresh, I am
and you, the thread,
together stringed, we become
fragrant garlands
that adorn and purify
our sacred sanctuary of love;
When you form the visible arc,
I become the invisible arc
of our vibrant rainbow of love;
My love, don't you know...
You hold the key to my
Paradise of Love-
there, in a spot, so beautiful,
I sit sprinkling my romantic ink,
my heart beating fast
as I await your arrival,
when thrush nightingales
sing ballads of love
and a soft zephyr
tickles and whispers into my ears
that you are on your way
to meet me.
Come, my love, without further delay
forget all the petty tiffs we had and
unlock the door to my paradise.
Hold me in your arms, so that
our eyes would meet
with gazes deep:
domes of black and white
will then become verses of love
As I would read
my own muses, so deep
in your eloquent eyes,
and you, in mine,
so magical and dreamy that moment be
when the wheel of time
would stop for some time
For us...
Just for us...
On the eastern shore, she knocked on our door
Then drifted away to the west
She then turned north, and steadily forth
With rage upon her crest
As she gathered force, On a steady course
To a land below the sea
Too Unaware, or unprepared
For such a tragedy
Toppling of homes, the shredding of domes
of a wind that relentlessly blows
All the terrain, was flooded with rain
When the lake did overflow
And then she passed, and none to fast
This city beneath the sea
Leaving this flood, which carries our blood
Through a land of misery.
Hurricane Katrina
A poet exposes scenes to explore new horizons
unfolding under expansive or confining domes
We slow it down, decelerate, discern
unveiling are a fable's morals and concerns
taking pause to commune with fauna and elm
serenely does nature speak throughout her realm
our phrases linger with new colors
hues vibrant encompass as skylines
our dimensions broaden anew
sentences chosen carefully carry more import
with words nuanced, renewed
with a more sentient bite
with emotions more candid
abashedly bare, a despair founded
with paroxysm of catharsis we quill
weeping of our dormant essence shaken to life
confessions deepening, plunging in thought
letting the afflatus of passion flow
I Am Anaya
quill & inkwell love
11/14/25
Bones creak with winter’s chill,
sledge trails cover the sparkling snow,
rushing like the wind in a barren landscape
towards a bleak lonely village far below
shimmering amongst the dark stately pines.
A teak grey sky domes over petrified trees.
Skiing hard, feeling an exhilarating allure,
hypnotic and unfettered despite the gelidity
as the cold breeze blows and moans into my face.
From afar a church bell tolls the end of day,
grey smoke twirls out of black chimneys.
There, in a homely cottage, you await,
a thick soup spreads its hot fragrances,
and thick slices of hot French bread
awaits my empty stomach. I hunger.
Oh yes, I hunger for tasty soup and more.
I speed up for nothing can stop me now
savouring the thought of you waiting in a snug bed
and dreaming of you and a pair of lips so cherry red.
Mirror mirror on the wall
Please tell me why I always fall
When I try to do something that will build me up
Then suddenly lose motivation and zeal for it all
So many pursuits were met halfway
I tried to learn skills but procrastination domes my way
Or suddenly I'm swamped with other responsibilities
And when I'm ready to go back, people have already gone far
When I look at my reflection what I see
Is a failing hypocrite starting back at me
People think I'm so smart and so put together
They don't know what burns underneath my sweater
I wish I could be easier on myself
And take things one step at a time
But with the way things are going
I can only feel peace with God by my side
Your Indigo Ink, Yes, You
“Great spirits have always encountered
opposition from medicore minds”
Albert Einstein
Your very best poems are about truth, goodness or
beauty!
Yet, ignored, over something... not only ghastly base,
but something mindlessly fruity.
Do not fret if they are ignored, move on and close
the door.
If you are here to be loved and very popular, it
shows in your poetry, which is mostly jocular.
Let others write exactly as they choose.
Get up, read a poet you like, by wearing your
poetic soul shoes.
Why keep reading, only those at the top?
There are thousands rarely read, they are humans
after all, not floor mops!
Ah, those photos on that homepage are so very
deceiving!
Poses of love and great beauty, and then come
their vicious comments~ indeed a very, dark soul
revealing.
Never mind mean cracks at your poems!
These are unloving poets staring at their
contorted faux image.
Under their own cruel mind-domes!
Best we learn from one another.
Than to do all in our power, a good poet’s writ,
to ignore and smother.
Tell me, how great you must feel, when you turn
off your night light.
When some here really do choose to
make of another, a joke and a blight?
Better to support than do all in your power to
smother one another.
Than to prance about here, pretending others are
not your equals or poetry brothers.
Jealousy here? A purely teenage emotion!
It destroys friendships here, and creates a painful
commotion.
I cannot use his name, it would not be right,
But his humor is impressive, classical and a most
appreciated delight.
10/4/2021
Sponsored by: Silent One
If this was the last
___________________
| If this was the last_goodbye |
But, what if this was the last time I cried,
Don't want to be hidden behind lying scrys.
The world forgotten on their prying device,
Humanity alone algorithmic thrice.
Heaven on you shoulder beckons you home,
Mirror-sucking marrow through soulless domes.
But, what if this is the last chance to thrive,
Society nullified blue tick uprise.
Locate my strength to become whole again,
Discharge into the torrent of play-pretend.
Am I willing to wonder the outdoors,
Bleak scepticism plaguing putrid drawbacks flaws
Pick up, put down, conscious cyber remorse,
No better a junky and their driving force.
But, what if this is the last time I lie,
Unsubscribe, double-click, shut device; goodbye.
Pamphlets of Prophets
And in the barren face of sanity
I scavenged
For hope
Hope between the bleeding
Stain
Full forces littered the bodies
Pamphlets of prophets
In useless streets
Streets paved with dead
Dreams
Burning crosses
Burning flags
The caricatures of hate
Hate in the Holy walls and domes of
Jerusalem
And in the coloured face of madness
I found the ever smile
Of borrowed light
Light in the Holy walls and domes of
Death
Death in weeping children sung its dirge
In the sacrificial arms of
Love
Love ?
What love is there between the ruins of bone and shattered blood
Siren screaming its danger to flesh
This Auschwitz strip
This apocalypse
Is a lament unheeded
Of starved and parchment skeletons
Turning in their graves
Piteous demise of theirs
Wasted
Full forces littered the bodies
Pamphlets of prophets
In useless streets
Swans - thrump-thrumping
practice take offs and landings
Geese honk
file flight plans
Muskrats build
mud and stick domes
Beaver maintenance crews
make ready
frogs retreat
while the mud is soft
Osprey screech
above naked woods
A doe follows
a scented path
Turtles secure
their mobile homes
A woodpecker
sends Morse code alerts
The ice shell
creeps
Winter exhales
across the pond
John G. Lawless
9/25/2020
Pill bugs wet with dew
as crawling gray domes mirror
green turf, salmon sun.
Copter seeds whirling,
a squirrel chases paper
treasure for her nest.
Young cat mock-tweeting,
wily sparrows unheeding,
paws press on the screen.
In the valleys and
the hills
There is a
beautiful
country,
Fairy nature here
beams-
Walking through
Hungary.
Mineral waters-
this is Hungary,
Wines of gods-
this
is Hungary,
Curches domes-
this is Hungary,
Rivers flow-this is
Hungary.
Caves of million
wonders,
Sparkling with
silver lights,
Thousands of
beautiful gardens
And lovely summer
nights.
Grand Budapest
meets Danube,
The Royal
Residence above,
The stone eagle
superb-
From Budapest
with love.
Lions guarding
broad bridge,
Buildings like on
Thames,
The Roman
ancient
places
They full of pure
grace.
Estergom inducing
faith-
Nebulous blended
dome,
The way to the
west leads-
To the lake of
Balaton.
This is Hungary-
exquisite,
This is Hungary-
colors of joy,
This is Hungary-
still a mist,
This is Hungary-
just enjoy!
Crudités, fresh, piled high and swaggering
From the market, bought this evening.
Thrusting carrots, earth still clinging,
Crisp cos, perky peppers, piquant roquette,
Rude red radishes, cucumber firm,
All in cool clear water washed,
Droplets sparkling on their surface.
Want to dip them in my hummus?
Temptresses teasing, to whet the appetite:
Oval curves unending, singing:
“Start with me”. Oeufs en cocotte,
Yellow yolked white winking coquettes,
Lovely lazy daisies, out of work, hors d’oeuvres,
Swoon to my eager spoon.
Taking a breath, your mouth’s alluring smile,
Eyes meet, hands connect,
Hot and cold shivers thrill.
An amuse-bouche:
Burning ginger flavours a cool sorbet.
How d’you like your steak, sir?
Rare, seared, visceral, red,
Caressed with oyster mushrooms wild,
Crushed peppercorns, randy brandy
Added accents to saucily seduce the palate,
Juliennes strewn prettily around the rim.
Velvet to the tongue,
Come, taste my peaches,
As moist flesh yields sweet warm juices
Merging flavours with wanton,
Whipped, drifting, dreamy, creamy domes.
Stimulation of the mocha and the mysore beans
Offering their perfume to enchant the air
As we sip, laugh, talk and glance,
Flirt, flirt and flirt.
So swiftly now, so much of change;
Time yields endow, time feels so strange.
So quickly here, so change feels strange;
The times brought cheer, the feel of change.
It seems a flash, a brilliant blur;
The spiral dash, an affluent spur.
The new shapes bare the facelift here;
A bright fringe wears a surreal cheer.
First the world view, then the climax;
Watch plays on cue, let style attract.
Let charm and grace show off finesse;
Cash funds this place with stylish bash.
Two fruity domes speak of culture;
Cues can find home in proud gestures.
This Esplanade like durian thorns
Wears a facade to greet new haunts.
Once upon then, the sea felt near;
Now we know when aplomb can steer.
Age catches up to one and all;
An empty cup fills sad recall.
Days and nights here are like elsewhere;
Live for good cheer, live here or there.
So much of change can feel crazy;
Accept the strange, work out easy.
So much of thought can dye meaning;
Our ample lots drive our shoutings.
So here we meet at life's crossroads;
We laugh and greet despite harsh loads.
Leon Enriquez
08 December 2014
Singapore
Great Scot
that trot
on gnomes
and domes
Bamboozling, casting spells in dark site
Roaming and iridescent like sprite
Haiku
…My City Hyderabad
Same stories in books
Same thoughts I read time again
Missing myself
Those old lanes
Those dim lit windows above
My city glows
Rickshaw-puller leads
My thought to its destination
In city lanes
High minarets rise
Call of muazzin rings the city
Some bells too
Domes lit on Eid
Windows lit on Diwali
Welcomes Santa Claus
Drank Irani chai
Haleems and Briyani for lunch
Dinner at Medina
Hyder to Sikandar
The twin city echoes the diversity
Deccan at heart
Far from here
Lives my mother, my family awaits
Net call
Call that recalls
My memories on every visit
Sometimes in tears
Qutubs shahs to Nizams
Rich past and subtle digital future binds
My city Hyderabad
24.01.2011