Best Elates Poems
“In solitude, the mind gains strength and learns to lean upon itself.” Laurence Sterne
far from the human humdrum
solitude shrouds mountainsides
subtle snowflakes fall on spruce
I run towards the cabin
the heat is enjoyable
I open my fine laptop
type chapter three of my book
no characters spoil the scene
silence of nature elates
reflections of sublime thoughts
calming of a waterfall
falling from a cliff nearby
man feels peace in solitude
far from turbulence of life
now all is calm and peaceful
a rainbow appears afar
Placed 1
Vision, a window divine, open wide to aspirations of heart,
A lens paramount, for perusing aesthetics of beauty and art;
A sight beaming imagination, on ambitions of curious soul,
A focus coherent, shaping impulses, passions studious cajole.
A medium of communication, an engaging lure of romance,
An infatuated response, a jubilant hint of enamored glance,
Blossoming in language of love, without utterance of word,
Extolling meaning amorous, that desires romantic spurred.
Perceptive of worldview, on mission to observe and learn,
A journey into the unknown, yearning curiously to discern,
Vision quests for knowledge, aiming to be literate, well read,
Vision peers into future, navigating life’s road maps ahead.
It thrills watching a baby smile, elates in celebration of life,
Saddens when mind summons anguish of grief and strife;
Dejecting violent places, thoughts kindred deeply deplore,
Preferring banks of avid shores, dreams endearing implore.
Vision captures images of life, ruminating in joys and sighs,
Rejoicing in blissful memories, or tearing-up its forlorn eyes;
Reveling in exuberant prairies, vying for flowering springs,
Or shuddering amid barren trees, bearing angst winter brings.
Young lady, dark eyes smiling, gazes soft upon her dreams.
She holds violin, her companion, near as Chopin’s notes
surround her, resonating in her soul, splendor’s refrain.
As music comes alive, nimble fingers wake, restless to float
in passionate motion on waiting bow, no worry or thought
to precision or mechanics. She, spirited girl, creates
in light of love, lifting her gift from God, which cannot be bought;
she understands - blood and breath flow, her energy elates,
great to enlightened ears and hearts of all who listen...admire,
flawless to those who know the meaning of extraordinary -
a priceless gift shared, passion spreading like a burning fire.
Young lady, virtuoso, dark eyes smiling brighter each day,
lives her dreams. She and music are one joyous heart beating.
In the warmest of seasons,
when the cheerless moon of a remote town
rises from beyond the fir and maple-covered hills,
in great suspense and silence,
a brief song is played by this guitar
with a few chords and numerous notes:
making up the merriest melody
sustained by a perfect and simple harmony...
I am the author and the composer,
expressing my feelings in an unusual norm,
regardless how the critics will judge it,
for words and music should have an effective form:
free of impurity, lively and up-beat,
something likable by every singer,
to make such a unique composition notable,
and be remembered by every mortal...
I play it to my oldest friend, a royal friend who listens
and seldom gets bored by the lively strokes of the strings;
melancholic moon, I like to see you smile for a change:
to be sad is evoking death itself when no bird sings,
and darkness shows its cadaverous, unmerciful face!
When fear is very real and perceptible in each sense,
life departs from us and evil spirits frantically dance;
melancholic moon, gaze down and lighten up your rage...
I am no genius or pretend to be,
and my humanness and wisdom are always
reflected by a justified action and a truthful word:
to draw the attention of the stubborn;
and playing a brief song with this guitar, elates me
and dissolves my grim look of loneliness,
to confidently get me through this lovely and eternal night,
but hesitant and murky moon, turn on that luminous light!
Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci
Plucking at the metal strings
Thumping vibration pulsing the air
Tuba all classy and dancing with bass
Suddenly silence, the palette bone bare
The voice of the infinite instrument
settles the band and elates
You're singing and smiling and lifting the sky
while the keys all turn toward you and burn, concentrate
The piano is weighted by words
and is stretched to it's lengths by your thoughts
Trills and crescendos rise up to the rafters
and are swept up by currents and caught
Softly the background emerges
All of the instruments humming in time
Flooding the stage and the audience skin
and right at this moment I know you are mine
Mine to dream dreams to and smile
Mine to tuck into my heart
A flood of vibration to linger and last
This music which touched me and tore me apart...
Green bark a prism creates,
Feel the pull of earth, you must.
Rotates, a slime of endless hates,
Can hold me not, this world’s crust.
Friendship’s ties, isolation Deflates,
Succumbs, my spaceship, to bitter rust.
Mist, my soul forever permeates,
Lift-off, booms the rocket’s thrust.
My spirit when light returns, elates,
Swamps swell, swallowed hope’s swirling dust.
Trapped, I am, until student from fate
Arrives to learn; Cloud City or bust.
vernal equinox
pollen proliferation
spring rebirth affirmed
busy bees buzzing
beautiful birds building nests
winter gloom erased
dormant seeds take root
blossoms bloom birdsong elates
spring nearing its end
summer solstice comes
verdant landscape sandy beach
families frolic
short summer showers
heat and humidity reign
sunlight lingers on
temperatures lag
cheerful chirping of crickets
last gasp of summer
autumn equinox
turning leaves migrating birds
early morning chill
leaf-peeping pastime
harvest cornucopia
real time falls behind
fall’s first killing frost
season of melancholy
cold of winter near
winter solstice comes
bare trees long hibernation
don’t risk bleeding lips
gardens lie fallow
field mice attempting entry
long dark frigid nights
snowfall slowly melts
winter giving way to spring
first mosquito bite
A Lady Waits
The sleepy sea massages a creaking ship which slowly navigates
through blackness the sky emanates and the great Atlantic integrates.
A sailing school of serenading seagulls dips and dives and celebrates,
and amongst the sea-sick shipmates, a welcome murmur swiftly circulates.
A wave of steerage class splashes onto the seaweed-soaked stern and congregates,
viewing a line of lights which levitates on the horizon it incubates.
As fingers point to a distant shore, the name “America!” reverberates.
The salty air invigorates, and the chorus of commotion escalates.
A cry pulls the tide of faces to the rear row of citizen candidates.
Her wind-whipped shawl barely insulates the ravenous newborn she placates.
As if Moses were parting the sea, the silent congregation separates.
Gleaming with gratitude, she glides to the front rail the moon illuminates.
As her baby’s throat pulsates with mother’s milk, through lash-locked lids he fixates
on the Emerald Empress whose torch radiates on the dreams she consummates.
Beholding the beacon who beckons brave believers, his mother boldly states,
“When this restless night abates, the misty morn of a daring dawn elates,
but tonight, sleep well my child … for across the harbor, the lady waits … ”
- E. V. Wyler -
The voice of the Lord, is awe so powerful!
The voice of the Lord, is mighty in strength!
The voice of the Lord, is ever so glorious!
May I hear his voice at great length!
The voice of the Lord, moves quite swiftly!
The voice of the Lord, the inner shakes!
The voice of the Lord, is most glorious!
For the voice of Lord, my heart so aches!
The voice of the Lord, roars as thunder!
The voice of Lord, calms the stormy seas!
The voice of Lord, reveals the forest:
So its not hidden, for the mass of trees!
The voice of the Lord, divides and conquers!
The voice of the Lord, in truth creates!
The voice of the Lord, is calming and glorious!
At the voice of the Lord, oh my heart elates!
Inspired by Psalm 29
Written by Stacey Brown 9-23-14
The hidden face
Love to a Swiss Army knife more akin
Dumbfounds the blind's ear and elates
Blasts a rocky,impregnable barbican
Yet torpedoes nests and sanctity flatulates.
“How long can a poetry go?” you ask.
I will shall share the answer to that question.
You may think it is not an easy task.
Well, maybe; poetry is a progression.
It may be as long as one’s memory.
Or as brief as a footle, just four words.
It might be on a spirit or a banshee.
It could be about flowers or lovebirds.
Some are quick, a flash of one’s memory.
A wonderful or horrific event –
Yes, poems may be as brief as a moment.
Or long enough for the poet’s intent.
Poems can relate the modern and ancient.
They help mankind rise in their life’s ascent.
And share enlightenments from olden wars
Victories shout out as losses lament.
Poems span the hopes in family moments.
They share stories of past generations.
Speaking at length on brilliance or ailments,
They increase love and family foundations.
Poetry sings on each mountain one climbs.
It brings love and passion, wild or balmy.
Poems can be written with rhythm and rhyme,
And some of them are free … no boundary!
The length of a poem is a progression.
Advancing each time that the muse dictates,
When she speaks there will be no regression.
Poetry writes what in her heart elates.
It might be on problems one encounters.
Poets share love and ecstasies cherished.
How long … As long as inspiration spurs.
The poet writes until words are finished.
1/16/2015
Written for the contest: How Long Can a Poetry Go?
Writer’s Statement:
My Poem, “A Poet Writes Long or Short” is a synopsis of the many aspects that determines the length of a poem. I have tried to relate ideas and topics that influence a poet’s composition in a simple, but fun way. This poem was written with the intent of attaining 25 lines or more as the contest dictated while still being able to express my thoughts within the framework of a quatrain.
by Michaelw1two
Inspired from poetic works by Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum
One’s love possess,
in truth’s fairness blessed upon such beauties face;
aglow on promised dream and then,
heart’s mercy known and given so;
trust’s pact sustains,
sweet bond of passion’s taste and loving sensed;
as life between exists,
this feeling moment’s will lives on.
My lips wet,
my heart so swollen, silences the murmur of my words to you;
in thought’s surpass,
heart’s needs bring solemn depths to passionate aches;
while on these loving tears I seek,
your living smile and love unwept;
graciousness of my quest eland elates,
this yearn of joy, and bind of soul soothe plays.
Upon your life,
passion glows and beauty pure displays love’s essence;
that light emits its precious bless,
lusciousness surrounds your glimmer;
filled full of compassionate breath, I am,
yet my soul is calmed and my mindset sleeps;
beheld, I give my gaze to your heart’s iris blazed;
seduction’s mists, remind love’s caution blindly.
Ah, love’s bliss,
from your beauty’s glow the morning’s bright does sheen;
what secret though, an inner deep,
so shrouds your grace filled figure;
oh, my words do chime,
these passions versed of all life’s memories charmed,
through midnights depth I yet dream,
in this quiet I quest, for your love’s envisioned mirror;
and I search these night’s suppressed,
for your glimpse, through these tears of shared enamour;
struggling thrillingly, with my soul’s compassion wept,
against these separations, from your passionate love and honour
Jan 2012
Leg cast graffiti
elates the spirits of all
who created it
Every day comes a new beginning
Listening to her breath-taking lyrics
Her Melodious symphony
She connects me to her world
Where I leap in enthusiasm
When said, her melody pacifies,
Depressed, her symphony elates me
And lost in the maze of her magnificent cacophony
She lifts me, out of my trepidation.
Enya
Here I found a cruel necessity for a new, chilling ambience
There was even a need for the drifting fogs of dreary past
A need for the blurred emptiness that sadness elates
An unimpeded appetite for a long lost banister of emotional distain
Negative pores glimmered petulantly on polluted shores
Drawn to an irrefutable cloud of looming gloom
Swollen was the tide of crestfallen reveries—ashen treasuries
There in that dark, empty room of ill refute
I felt the word ‘alone’ in a new shade of gray
I felt sincerely barren—I hesitate to say
Yes, I welcomed the weak ray of diminishing hope
I disposed of lurid happiness to gamble with tragedy
I both lost and gained
I was both enlightened and degraded
And all else in between
Images sustained their displays on my burning canvas
Lighting up merely to blacken and destroy
Weeping for the sake of weeping alone
I grasped onto the disturbing unknown
And spat upon my inane, dull, idealistic parables
Never meant for meaning or demeaning
Only remained then was a desperately distilled and angry fright
It was this fright alone that pushed me more to account
That pushed me to curse my every being
For daring to weep for the sake of weeping
Was a personal sin at best blessed
There in that slowly illuminating room
That slowly blackening burning room
I both lost and gained
I was both dead innocent and garishly guilty
And all else in between