Best Dreariest Poems


Premium Member A Beauty Called Rose

She illuminates even the dreariest places,
With all of the vibrant colors she puts on,
Trailing sweet fragrance through the hours,
Her vague memory putting smiles upon faces!
Her visage glows in the wonder of sunny days,
A spring debutante, aging in summer's glaze.
Silent and mysterious, an enigmatic dreamer,
Vivaciously spreading joy, where she visits.
Star of noon gardens, where cardinals croon,
She is cherished by everyone, under the moon.

Sunshine

She is the taste
Of sunshine after rain.
An embodiment of hope
Through the dreariest days. 

Warm healing energy
And a calm golden soul.
Gentle and soft
Highlighting the bright
Of her ever beaming smile. 

She reminds you of childhood
And innocent trust.
Her very being
Tells you its okay. 

Be yourself.
Do what you want.
She’s your biggest cheerleader
Through every effort you make.

She is sunshine
In her optimistic ways
Shining through your rain
In your pessimistic thinking.

She is there
Whenever you need her to be.

She is your reminder
That not all is lost
In this darkening world.

The Past

Wet blades of freshly clipped grass stick to my feet as I make my way through the dark to the pair of arms that are my home.

The very essence of my being swells with warmth as I enter the magnetic field that surrounds you, continuously drawing me in as my mind is now at ease. This is where I’m supposed to be.

As our souls collide with the slightest contact my anguish dissipates into a thousand particles released high into the sky, a sensation unattainable via any other means.

The realization of what it means to be alive radiates onto my body like the first warming rays of spring emerging after the dreariest winter.
 
Some may say this is the most potent drug I have ever come to know—as addiction and the corresponding withdrawal symptoms are immediate and all consuming.

Only I’ve never been as sober as the moments I am home—in these arms that provide my own with strength when they become weak, the arms that shelter me when I’m filled with fear, the arms that are my guidance to everything that I’ve ever wanted to be.

We are naïvely unaware of which parts of ourselves are incomplete until we have gradually combined with another as one, and then post-discovery we will never be able to forget.

My body and mind perpetually yearn to be within the realm of your own long after the pieces of you that fit into the cracks of my essence like putty are removed.

Thus my wounds remain exposed for far longer than I knew was possible as a girl filled with holes attempts to live, at best survive, in these series of houses that are not a home.

They are not your arms.


Premium Member Sipping Tea In the Mist

See the misty drizzle falling on the ocean
Tea steaming on your bungalow stove
Free particles of vapor evaporate
Tree limbs bow ‘neath raindrops as to shore you rove

Be at peace as you open your umbrella
Lee are the winds as they rock boats in the harbor
Ye who live a modest life are wrapped in thoughts of
He who dwells on the distant island castle, object of your ardor

Tea still releasing steam adds to the haze
Three tiny sips of chamomile put you at ease
Glee fills your heart on this dreariest of days
Wee crabs scurry forth, your toes to tease
 
 
*Entry for Rick Parise’s “Lento Poetry” contest
Form: Verse

For Suki

I look into those big brown eyes,
and I am filled with so much fear.
The thought of you, not being by my side,
not being here, or near...

Out of all the overwhelming pain in life,
this shakes my core, my continent.
They won't understand my cher ami,
my sweet constant confident...

That the thought of you not being in my life,
would be the dreariest, dreariest fog.
I love you Suki, with all my heart.
You were more than just a dog.
Form: Rhyme

The Warmth

Dreary morning goes to bright array
As the clouds move away.
Body feeling warm from sun ray
As it brightens my day.
Having friends far away
Brighten my day
When they drop me a line.
Such warmth from their love
Brightens the dreariest day.

A cool wind blows
As the snow disappears
From the bright rays.
Just like seeing smiles
Upon their cheeks.
Musical seranades 
Dances like warm breezes
Upon our souls.
Form: Rhyme


My Love For Her By Kenny Davis

My Love for HER by Kenny Davis

My love for HER
Runs deeper than the many depths of the ocean
The thought of holding HER in my arms
Has me swept up with emotion

My love for HER
For me, makes HER more than a mere token
Much more than a mere prize to be won
More than mere words can be spoken

My love for HER
Runs over like water of the fountain
For HER, I’d cross the widest river
Or climb the tallest mountain

My love for HER
Has warmed my heart, when it was frozen
That why SHE indeed is
The one I have chosen

My love for HER
Crosses time, it lasts much longer
For with each day that passes
My love for HER grows stronger

My love for HER
Allows my spirit to sing
My love for HER is richer than
That of the treasures of the wealthiest of kings

My love for HER
Shelters me from the dreariest of storms
For my love for HER burns like a fire
Keeping my beating heart warm.

 My love for HER is
Worth more than its weight in gold
Piercing the very core of my being
Illuminating the very essence of my soul

My love for HER
Runs far beyond measure
For it is indeed my love for HER
That my heart shall forever timely treasure.						          

© November 2010 k.davis
Form:

Eyes

in my dreariest of moods
whose eyes will light up my day
when yours are gone

By the Way

This is the only way I can see fit and
I want to say everything that has been
Blossoming inside for far too long
But the words seem futile and much too common
I could simply quote eternal lore
But I want to believe you already know every thought
Tell me nothing, tell me everything
You have destroyed the feline door to my soul
My neurotic nature craves your constant calmness
You are like
The song that is trapped in my head
The dream I refuse to wake up from
The caffeine to my dreariest days
The nicotine to my stressful madness   
It is ironic how I simply cannot paint with words
All the feelings you awake inside
My hair, my shirt and my bed
Still entrench your sweet sent
You may not be my gallant knight in shinning armor 
I may not be your dreamy damsel in distress 
But who believes in fairy tales anyway
And our reality is better in every way
I have a knack with my weird ways
To amuse you, to disgust you, to intrigue you
My exotic nature makes you doubt my whimsical logic
But you cannot deny it dude, we are so right together
Immature or much too smart to take life seriously 
You make every moment pleasurably immortal  
And every second apart painfully immeasurable  
And by the way, szeretlek
Form:

Faith

I'm here to take the lower approach
To what I was ordained to coach.
I'm no Preacher,
But He did put me here to teach you.
I'm not inveighing;
I'm just saying
That the only way through life is by praying.

Everyone seems to want to be a sinful conformer,
While the depths of hell get fuller and warmer.
Death and time, still succeeding the former.
See I'm a Poet
And as a person who does believe,
I perceive what others have forgotten to see.
Prosecuted not by we,
But by the persons my ancestors plotted to be.

And now I find myself trying
To figure out why you'll think I'm lying
When I reveal that what is born today,
Tomorrow will be dying.
I've seen many "joyous" christians
Everyday on thier knees crying.
Repentant of the sins Flesh had them denying.
Unwilling to make the bed
They chose to lie in.
Well predict your life on what your perceptions have been prying.

Forgetful of the One who can take
The dreariest,
Weariest,
Rainy, that drains me
Weather
And turn it into something
Sunny,
Bright,
And lovely
To make things better.
Kinda like unchanging youth
Resting on the skin like morning dew.

Now don't prosecute me for my truthful depiction.
Grinning at me with an afflicted conviction.
I'm just tryna pull you in my direction
And get you ready for the next resurrection.
Cause there will be one
Right under the blue sky:

The return of the Son!

And I can't wait.
Fate...is what Faith...is real
That crucifix around ya neck,
That's not the real deal.
It might be real steel,
But it didn't bless you with that real good meal
You ate last night.

Look at it like this:
People subdue to materialism
Thru a metaphysical way of
Praising Him.
But a faithful Christian gets blessed
Despite of "we," "she," "her," and "them"
Because in His word, He stressed:

"Blessed is the man that walks not in
the cousel of the ungodly, nor stands in 
the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of
the scornful; but his delight is in the law of the Lord"

And that is blessed.
Read the book of Psalms if you need to hear the rest.
I'm not disdaining any reproach,
Like I warned you before,
I'm only here to coach
With the soul purpose to reproach,
Your processes with the lessons
And confessions
My Father had laid upon me
With CAREFUL discretion.

So to you from me:
Be Blessed, Be Faithful, and Be Ready
Form: Didactic

Awkward Little Stones

The dead shells of my nightmares will not stay buried.
The plastic delights of plastic idols haunt my belief.
Long shadows crawl too quick from the windows,
And I find all those quaint little candles hard to light.

Treading on broken sticks are memoirs of my youth.
Rolling grey clouds are demanding of time and titles.
Carving out granite blocks to prove my monument,
And loathsome gold is the dreariest of discussions.

The breeze holds my solace and my center,
As it combs through the gardenias and pines.
Awkward stones in my pocket; awkward stones in my head.
I wish the breeze would oblige to take them all away.

Right here, in this hand, is the greatest of all hopes,
But there are weeds in the garden in need of pulling.
Most are piled, but those that remain, are stout,
Reminding me so clearly of the dust from which I came.

Slaying the child of me and looking to the pedestal,
Ousting the evil spirits and purifying the water,
Feeling the grist of a turbid though preparatory path,
I am tempted to hold the soft close and rest, but this will not do!

The dalliance of a rose in moonlight, looks to me.
I must not look away. I must stay to the trees,
As my beloved ancestors who sang the sun in flight.
I will know that there is no convincing, only knowing.

I will hold my clutch of awkward stones to the heavens,
So that no ill is hatched and pray the breeze take them.
“Divine wind hold me now, for your love will free me!
The cascade of events is the triumph of one heart made whole!”

The Dreariest Shore

On my awaking,
March's bright sun begins to rise...
dazing the blue sea,
to let the shrills of seagulls 
cheer up the dreariest shore.
Form: Tanka

Truly Grateful Till the End

.



Into  the sunrise lake of my own sunset 
I  shall wade and sink with nary a ripple.
There in the penubra of the dark skyline, 
               I shall be, blissfully, 
                   nothing again.


Blown  away  by  the worst  wayward winds,
Trapped, stranded in the dreariest doldroms,
I  have stayed  undaunted, kept unshaken 
                 the faith in better 
                   things to come.


The  heaving  halo of  the partly sunken sun 
Now  sends thin shafts  of  shimmering light
That streak through my lengthening shadow. 
                 Still, I shall remain 
                  grateful and true.


.

One

what do i do
but sit here and thing about you
why can't there every really be someone there
someone who will be beside me
take care of me
and hold me through the good and bad
keep me safe and make me laugh 
to put a smile on my face 
even on the dreariest days
someone who can love me for me
one who can make me feel special.
someone who will bring me a single rose
just because its Tuesday.
or take me out just because.
one who will compliment me at my worst
is there any person of the male species 
that is like that.
one who isn't dead, taken or gay?
all i'm asking is for one guy
one gentleman,
Just One.
to make a difference.
Form:

Dealing With Depressive Loneliness

How would anyone deal with depressive loneliness 
when even the dreariest thoughts allow great fear?
Hiding in that lonely world seems right for some,
having nothing is giving up everything even love;
choose joy or pain, dance alone or drink a beer:
see others indulge in happiness, refill your glass! 

How useless is believing in miracles,
they only happen to the lucky ones;
anyone showing that hopeless mood
can't achieve any goal feeling brood!

I have often delt with loneliness overwhelmed by distress:   
wasn't I smiling when all was quickly tumbling down,
keeping it to myself, laughing harder than a clown?
Don't hold anything inside, reach out and confide in others!

I envied anyone who had someone to live for, to laugh with?
Wasn't it too wrong to be denied the right to love and smile?
Was I kept from many wishes staring at stars and not wish on one?
Who believes that we are chosen by fate to be  marthyrs from birth?
Form: Lyric

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