Best Emerald Poems
Emerald Forests
Emerald forest hiding from man's curse
if found, its never better , always worse.
Wretched destroyers we are in this abode
in our arrogance we are firmly sold.
Greed for taking everything in our path
we in our false pride deliver our wrath.
Astonished that some may in this rebel
when seeking their deaths, damn them all to hell.
If true, the meek inherit this sweet earth
then our dear souls must love for all their worth.
Where river and bend meet with shining sky
Nature teases us to ask how and why.
Shall we pray that emerald forests hide?
Take action on that we can not abide?
Robert J. Lindley, 11-29-2016
Syllables Per Line: 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Words: 108
Dark heart
Onyx bruises
Madd lover
Entrapment fooling
Swollen lips
Teal tears
Indigo ears
Crying years
Violet prayers
In shelters
Only light
Love weathered
Emerald eyes
Need sleep
Courageous flight
Embracing peace
emerald envoys
endure chilling reception..
scarlet suffering
Trying to hide in conspicuous places
a night on the town in their false, plastic faces.
Sweetly they sweep through magnificent halls,
top-dollar galas and masquerade balls --
where always the wine is more bitter than sweet,
each girl wishing for love in her ruby-clad feet.
Perhaps scarecrows are thoughtful, and lions are brave,
and the tin-men know passion, such a boisterous parade
of hopeful young suitors, each waiting his chance
to find a young lady and win her last dance.
All tied up as prisoners with satin-silk chains
they listlessly dance as the hope from them drains.
A piano-man plinks only on the black keys:
pentatonic winds on a pentatonic breeze,
still not enough blowing to carry balloons
or to start raining houses from cyclic typhoons.
The evening draws on -- long beyond the moon’s rising,
a faint glinting of green from the city’s disguising
the envious looks in the eyes of the witches
and harsh threatening gales of the wind as it switches.
And no one is happy, none are finding their prize --
no one knows what they want, nor removes their disguise.
So the dancing is pointless, bravado is hollow
no wizardly magic can fix what will follow.
Shallow connections that lead nowhere, and quickly
the ballroom grows quiet, the witches grow prickly
the lions go fleeing, the scarecrows are clueless,
the tin-men don’t care, and that makes them the cruelest
For out in the public, among all the noise
some girls have gone missing -- and so have some boys
and in the dark shadows, all knew what occurred
but they whisper and gossip, and spread what they heard:
that it must have been mutual, it must be alright
they’re both grown adults, let’s not be so uptight.
And thus they all hide, in conspicuous places
enabling the culprits with false, plastic faces.
9/4/16
An Emerald Morning
Verdant sylvan shades share,
emerald and peridot's glossy glow
with Apollo's serene sunrise
in silent tropic trades as
I delight to see Egrets
take flight in our island's
stunning sultry morning light
as sunlight gleams off
white outstretched wings.
My soul sings with the
enchantment life brings.
Fine mist reaps rainbows
in vivid hues, sun kissed.
Raindrops create magical
mountain mélanges in
winsome waterfalls.
Seaside surf splashes
white waves upon the
pearly sandy shores
with aqua warm waters.
Maritime vessels share
the sea with swimmers.
Young and old rejoice in
our peaceful paradise.
8-21-17
Atmospheric Pressure
Sponsored by: Shadow Hamilton | N/A
ANOTHER 2017 STUNNER~3rd Place~
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier | 4/19/2018
The Emerald Isle lies misty green,
an ocean's gem, a land between
the water's edge and blue of sky,
her magic wonders seldom seen.
For those who know her can't deny
although, in truth, they wonder why
the Irish spin their wondrous tales
to friends and strangers, stopping by.
An Irish story never fails,
in all its glorious details,
to weave a world of fae and sprite
who hide amongst the woodland trails.
The little folks keep far from sight,
but if you're very still, you might
just catch one dancing, unaware,
when day is slipping into night.
As songs of evening fill the air,
listen close and tread with care,
with little folks about somewhere—
with little folks about somewhere.
I'm an emerald
echo of earth's
caterpillar, a
camouflaging
hiatus of muse
midst karmic rainstorms.
Enslaved to jealous
stars flaming within
infernal wings,
I yearn to spellbind
sacred heaven's throne,
chasing subconscious
liberty in crowned
soul of marine eyes.
Tracing saffron
fingertips in
silent smokes of
Venus, willingly,
I've scarred tuscan shine
of Aphrodite
with pearl's thermal ache.
So now, when new year's
first sunflower sings ~
breathing ambrosia
in gemstones of
bejeweled healing,
a poet shall be
reborn as a
ruby-amethyst,
snowtail butterfly.
EMERALD MAY
The humble Hawthorne blossom bright
Like snow upon the hedge is seen
Sweet May, is clothed in jade and white
Now winter’s chills are put to flight
The bride of Spring sheds shades of night
And dons a dress of Emerald green
To greet the Sun her Summer Knight
Who bows before his beauteous Queen
The male Hine’s Emerald patrols his cattail fen
low through sedge and seepage
his compound eyes pluck gnats from the air
two yellow bars flash along his thorax
hindwings catch the morning
Chimanimani Mountain mist beads over quartz
the female Rock Threadtail
six black feet braced on the edge
her wing tilted toward the sun
eyes—black
He misses the gnat
darts, veers, halts midair, pivots
his ommatidia fixed on her raised wing
smitten, his heading shifts
the female Rock Threadtail rests above her stream
=======
Everyone in the soup chant my name, because I'm bringing another poetic attack.
Ryan, you've had your 5 minutes of fame, now I'm breaking your poetic back!
So you need to be realistic, read your slam, then read mine.
I'm what people call "futuristic," because I'm a poetic Einstein!
I told you in a soup mail, when it comes to slamming, there's no competition!
P.D. has you under her spell, like she's programming an air=condition!
See I know why you stepped to the plate, you were looking for some recognition.
So your poetry I'll gladly annihilate, with your mother P.D.'s permission.
Why bother to even retaliate after my slam's left you in such a condition?
With your poetry you can't intimidate, because you haven't enough ammunition!
I hate a poet who thinks they're good when they really could use some practice.
If I could, I would beat you silly with a Texas cactus!
This isn't right of me, but Ryan you must not have had a clue,
That my slam poetry will utterally consume you....
Engulf you in a poetic inferno, and leave you a smoldering heap!
What-do-you-know!? It's a T.K.O.! And I've put Ryan to sleep!!!!
Note: This is why I don't want to slam with you, No offense, but I have to focus on your idol
P.D. So run back to her with your tail between your legs and tell her my filing cabinet is full
and ready;)
I walked to the ocean and my boat
I had not been there in a long time.
Covered in moss I wondered would it float.
The air was perfect the ocean mine.
Huge waves did their dance along the shore.
I had not been there in a long time.
A perfect day I couldn't ask for more.
Graceful seagulls flying overhead.
Huge waves did their dance along the shore.
Distant horizon sun glowing red.
Emerald colored waters completed scene.
Graceful seagulls flying overhead.
There are moments that seem like a dream.
Perfection's the gift that filled my eyes.
Emerald colored waters completed scene.
At moments like those I realize.
Perfection's the gift that filled my eyes.
I walked to the ocean and my boat.
Covered with moss I hoped it would float.
Terzanelle for my friend Eileen.
Emerald and White Gold Stardust
-
I placed on you a necklace
of white gold stardust chain
A heart shaped emerald locket
within a moonbeam frame
To glisten as you kiss me
a gleam before my eyes
As brilliant as your smile
beneath these midnight skies
And there inside the locket
engraved for all to see
The words I whisper every day
“Forever, you and me”
Good night Soupers
The Amadawn ‘ave played the joker
for the Good folks fairy Coort
‘T was they ‘ave egged the paper birches
an’ touch’d the scare crow’s stalks.
They ‘ave giv'n leerin pumpkin ‘eads
to Dullahan black ‘eadless ‘orse.
Tied the liein’ Leprechain’s tongues.
Changed the dread Pooka’s course.
Stol'n the noble Banshees keen moan.
an ‘idden ‘er bone white comb.
They ‘ave lured two changeling lovers
to Red Man’s bloody ‘ome.
N’er free since June, the jesters play
their brash tricks on Samhain’s eve.
Stealin’ all the gifts left fur the dead
‘neath mournin’ mortals trees.
N’t till the sunrise will they lave off
wid ‘ the Leprechauns in toe.
And sadly scurry ‘omeward bound
sure laven us all alone!
In the warmth of your gaze is where I want to be.
On a journey, endless, under the seamless sky…
Lost and adrift in your emerald iris sea.
From the cold bastille of solitude, set me free,
And tear me from the eyes that only want to pry.
In the warmth of your gaze is where I want to be.
Dreams dream of dreamers who exhale a vying plea
That billows the sails, on the current of the sigh,
Lost and adrift in your emerald iris sea.
Thrust from darkness into light, you struggle to see
With narrowed, questioning eyes, that need to know why.
In the warmth of your gaze is where I want to be.
Buried deep inside, I exhume the hidden key
That unfurls new hopes, soaring high and high and high,
Lost and adrift in your emerald iris sea.
Swaddled in safe embrace, with the strength of a tree,
Gentle are my kisses that keep rosy cheeks dry.
In the warmth of your gaze is where I want to be,
Lost and adrift in your emerald iris sea.
The summer sun sucked the simmering sky desert dry,
clumps of grey cloud spawned by the moist horizon,
torn in thwarted winds of failed storm they tried to fly.
The clusters desiccated except for a pained lone one.
In the course of scorched and sad sail it could save
for the aborted summer storm a swelling tear drop.
The squall decimated and seared in the heat wave,
the molten grief dripped morphing into a raindrop.
At the edge of the wasteland a solitary tree grieved,
the parched foliage drooped, rains didn’t hear its call.
Still holding hope on the slim stem an upright leave
found on its wilted and sapless face a raindrop fall.
In the summer sky the adrift and saddened lone cloud
didn’t whimper as under the sun it felt its future burn
for quenching the thirst of a dying leaf it was proud.
Waned life saw in tear raindrop emerald dream return.
November 18, 2018