Best Drifting Poems
Aromatic sweet fragrance permeates our air
In eminence of your fragile Jasmine flowers
As lovingly you engage slender ruby buds
Tending to green foliage in softest of whispers
In verses of your heart, meant for me to hear;
Guiding my sight higher to mysterious universe
As glowing night-sky unveils celestial theater
Where twinkling exuberant stars brilliantly glitter
Arousing amorous stares breathing in unison
Standing cheek to cheek, conversing with Venus;
Extolling seductively passionate secret dreams
Unfolding revelry in doting pregnant themes
Welcoming salutations--yearning for much more
Exhilarated by amour of dulcet solicitations
Deciphering inference of romantic metaphors;
Embracing each other in zealous anticipation--
Sensuous thoughts drifting into night's allure
Enticed by lure of every flirtatious rhythmic pulse
Eager to explore melodies of moonlit affections
As mating song of nightingale serenades our love.
August 8, 2019
Poem of the day on August 10, 2019
Placed 1st: Strand choice T contest by Brian Strand
Placed 3rd: One in four poetry contest by Joseph May
different drumbeats, separate Lives
he inhales the wind song
a static cling to yesterday
held in his heart until his melody fades
life, love, hope circle the drain
aging realist at one with his pain
love’s last aria
melancholy oboe resigns with setting sun
when two are no longer one
chasm widens between haunting roars
tribal drums on opposite shores
You can go on that trip, my love
I am allowing you to.
The world is a vast and beautiful place
So much to explore
Without me
We did so much together
rode my wheels
shared our bodies
near the campfire
With soft and tender arms
Tamed broken pasts
Cried and yelled at the moon
and crushed nightmares
Drank together and helped each other
back to bed
Sweetheart, I love you
But I cannot bind you to me
I see the longing in your eyes
while you are watching these mountains
those sunsets.
I feel you drifting
Like a traveller in time
from my heart, from my love
from my arms
I will not keep you
Freedom is important
The wild roar of your heart
is not for me anymore
I am allowing you
He is lovely
So go, my love
Climb that mountain in the sunset
I will watch you with a smile
and eternal love
in my heart.
***
January 18, 2017
Kisses caressed her like tides do the shore
Waves of passion touched her lips ~
Drifting her out to sea
9-4-2021
Kimo Form Old Or New Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
I stared deeply into his dreamy deep blue eyes
So full of passionate love, they could not disguise
He’d call me his dove, I scarcely believed he was mine
Safely wrapped in his loving arms, we’d gently entwine
I’d succumb to his charms and be simply floating on air
When our ruby lips met, green-eyed girls would stare
Forever his girl - I mustn’t forget, but it was not true
When I met his mother, all my dreams fell through
Told me there was another, this made me oh so sad
His true love lay with the sea, as it did his late dad
He never truly loved me, now we are both set free
01~30~15
Contest Interlocking Rhyme – Isaiah Zerbst
~awarded 2nd place~
I was thinking
of you touching my belly
in one moment in time,
and me kissing your shoulder
in another.
I was thinking
of talk
and whiskey,
the sound of bass
and shyness.
I have no wishes.
I was just thinking
how it could be
if the world stayed round
but got so much smaller,
for only one room to be,
for you and me.
The days grow short as if to welcome…….. Autumn
Colored days, a feast of red and golden.....Leaves
From tired branches they drop and slowly...Drift
Tenderly tossed by winds they dance………..Across
The garden path and rustle beneath…………My
Feet. Summer gone, and with it your ……..Broken
Promises. Left now with just an empty…… Heart
My fingers glide through autumn’s hues -
green and crimson glisten among
ripples of gold and persimmon.
My hand caresses cool crystal.
Still are fall’s bright trees along the river.
They fill my eyes as dreamily I drift.
I'm drifting Lord, I'm all at sea,
You came along and uplifted me,
No rudder Lord, i'm feeling shallow,
Lord, be my guide and I will follow.
I'm drifting Lord, I'm all at sea,
Lord I pray,come, rescue me,
Alone was I to sit and cry,
You gave comfort by and by.
The world's so big, so cold and cruel,
Your love to me is lifegiving fuel.
When I am feeling close to You,
My world is safe and warm and true.
Friend, if you are feeling low today,
just get on your knees and pray.
You'll be amazed that when you do,
You'll find the Jesus Way is true.
© Dave Timperley 2012
The young boy woke up floating, effortlessly above
his own little, living, breathing, body
that could be clearly seen below
with his own intangible eyes,
drifting…
as if he were a concealed cloud or Zephyr wind
suspended within
the borders of his bedroom walls.
A sky full of galaxies and stars
were luminously enticing and inviting him
beyond the curtains and outskirts of his window
as he wondered what it might be like
to let go of his attachments to
the familiar, sleeping boy in bed,
his mother, father, family, friends,
and plastic airplane models he had
recently assembled, painted and placed on cluttered shelves
along with Mark Twain story books and seashells
around his azure blue painted
boyhood bedroom cocoon.
It was all he could do to keep from drifting through
the beckoning window, the ceiling or watchful walls
leading upwards and outwards toward some place
he thought he knew well enough
to call "Home Sweet Home" and yet,
something akin to nothingness suddenly surrounded
this new-found phantom, ghost-like, being
curiously whispering and causing him to realize
it was not yet time for him to fly and instead,
decided to surrender and reenter
that other boy's body, brain, and mind
still lying there in bed.
Before awaking to the warming glow of glorious,
Sunday morning sunlight beams and wondering,
if floating weightlessly above himself
was as real as chocolate ice cream
or nothing more than another delirious dream.
I tied a balloon to my heart,
and watched it float away
up up up
( 1416 days since your suicide )
heading off towards Cheyenne,
( where you were a girl )
slowly, foolishly drifting you down.
As you left, so have I,
Like a figure cut from a picture,
and poorly pasted back.
Among/upon the picture,
but no longer, of it.
I shall put a smile over the hole it left,
and stoically wait out this body,
cueing up an "I'm OK"
to club those who ask.
Hoping to not be damned
with too many decades.
Because, I have learned you
have not left me.
Every time I work at higher math,
every time I focus on science,
every time I revisit the place
we worked together,
there you are.
And the hole my heart left
turns cold and numb,
and I descend into (hidden) tears
and crumble into despair.
A logic bomb to blow a hole
in my head,
to match the one in my chest.
Love ties us together,
and draws me after you.
Wait up, dear.
Ah, drifting leisurely inside the cloud,
Watching hot sun’s rays glance across the nose
of the winged drone, stealthily slipping proud,
I drifted so peacefully through the floes.
Updrafts from silent streams beneath arose
lifting craft’s nose, unexpectedly plowed
through looming cumulus's potential foes,
Ah, drifting leisurely inside the cloud.
My teeth clinching, I bared tense lips so proud;
Sensed gusts of air across the broadened floes,
Kissed cerulean sky above allowed
Watching hot sun’s rays glance across the nose.
Fecklessly, thoughts wondered how high she goes
before narrow cockpit collapsed to shroud,
and leaps of joy turned into flailing woes
of the winged drone, stealthily slipping proud.
For a moment, my breathing burst aloud,
A sudden chill, fear inside my chest froze
leaps of joy turned to sad, flailing allowed,
I drifted so peacefully through the floes.
I shall land on the grassy field unbowed
Receive the welcomed accolades from those
who soloed the winds, powerless, uncowed
by dangers the upper sky chose to pose,
Ah, drifting leisurely.
SECOND PLACE WINNER
Written/Edited March 1, 2021, slightly modified May 21, 2022
for Rondeau Redouble - Life's Struggles contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
In the shattered mirror of hollow empathy, I see fragments of myself drifting,
Like ash butterflies dancing in the cold wind of unspoken truth,
And their words—"I can't empathize"—are silver arrows piercing through
The illusory veil of superficial consolation, revealing the inner garden
Where I alone grow the cucumbers of wisdom, where I water the flowers of courage.
And I hear footsteps fading away down the corridor of memory, the steps of friends hurried
To their daily markets, to the Turkish dramas that swallow their evenings,
Leaving behind only the echo of a pat on the shoulder and a worn-out phrase
"Don't worry, it will all pass"—a devalued coin in the ATM of compassion,
While I remain here, in the fortress of self, counting my resources.
Ah, how strange this revelation—that in the absence of foreign comfort
I discover my own healing hands, my own wellspring of strength!
Like a tree finding water in its depths when the sky refuses to weep,
I learn to be self-sufficient, to measure my garden of limits with steady steps,
To cultivate my own remedies, to be my own sun and my own rain.
I no longer knock on foreign doors begging for understanding like a crust of bread,
But build from the bricks of imperfections a temple of maturity,
Where the echo of my steps resounds with fulfillment, not with a void to be filled,
Where each scar is a medal of self-sufficiency won in battle,
And where loneliness is no longer a fear, but a throne from which I contemplate my strength.
Give and take
barbs
then retreat
to wounded silence
licking our lacerations
before picking up
where we left off
with the razor wires.
If I close my eyes and look inside..
Sometimes I could feel your breath
as my feet can't step..
The touch of your hand placed on mine..
Your lips on my neck all lost in time..
My eyes now open, for the feeling has
passed..
A time I can't shake even though it won't
last..
Till I dream again and our souls touch once
more..
We will live and be happy and still know there's
a door...