Best Emphatic Poems
"If you're really in love, appearances aren't important. The best house is the one you build in each other's hearts."
Jung Yu jin
Autumn's alliterations amplified an acoustic of death.
Stillness of internal instrumentals silenced my acapella.
Words like wildflowers withered in winter wickedness,
without voice or verse I vanished behind a visible veil.
I was like a lifeless crystallised burnt sienna leaf,
as bitter breaths froze my brittle soul's ink.
Fatigued fingertips trembled from numbness -
without a purpose upon a speechless stage.
Afraid of crisp crying rain, which fell like a refrain.
my summer eyes turned amaurotic.
Life resembled a blank music sheet,
among an abandoned piano covered in iced cobwebs.
In solitude my music remained unwritten,
as I slept in a shivery silent slumber - tone deaf,
finding fading apricity in stolen daylight.
Until a silvery silhouette appeared. - sparkling.
Placed my hands into her warm glove-like hands,
wrapped me in an emphatic scarf-like embrace.
Her rose gold lips echoed in Orphic tones,
reviving my somnolent mute muse.
Blessed with vibrations from her vision,
senses awoke to rhythms of her heavenly harmony -
strumming an enchanting lover's lullaby.
Were you a gift from an orchestra of operatic angels,
sent to place hymns of hallelujah deep into my heart?
As her mystical mystery began to unfold.
In union our lyrics amplified into a rhapsody of romance.
Vibrant tunes from her intimate strings composed a
seraphic serenade, as we drifted into a dream world.
Today,
as we dance under emerald velvet northern lights,
snowfall covers our paths like an ivory blanket.
Soft flakes, like pearls glisten under tinsel moonlight,
as we leave poetic footprints behind in soothing snow -
a chorus of constellations glow to the tempo of our glorious sonata.
*** COME POETRY ***
Belle Poetry! Be kind!
I am already exhausted
From long passed hours
Taking dictation from you — I am
But human and sometimes fragile,
While you often come divine.
Sister Poetry! Even as I listen
To music by composer Andre Rieu, to help
Waltz words across these pages,
I plead with you, seeking
To grip, grasp, hunt, hold, seize, and
Assign apt words to their deft places…
Be kind! Impart the sequence of syllables
Clearly to my tired mind, so they will
Play well in their penned flow,
To turn Poetry’s wish to written wine —
Felt imagery; being true in wisdom;
Creative in expression; vibrant.
With a similar kind of invitation,
Ravel takes us away in imaginings, while
Traveling the rise in his Bolero,
Captive to the mounting repetition —
Music to motion. Expression to power.
Inspirations…A ready harvest in the heart.
Desiring Poetry, send here your printed score
To sound out as easily as does a pluck of
A violin’s string to begin a concerto;
Or humming a hymn may bring peace to a room.
Speak on in dreams! My pen awaits,
Listening even when near a nod to needed sleep.
Eager Poetry, life’s “Alleluia”
First coarses through you
In the displays of wonder; in all the consequences
Of emphatic things done; and of your intuited
Knowing in progress and process with the All
Collective unconscious — from clouds to clarity
As God with first thought made
The first word.
——Dedicated to the souls who hold the address of poetry within them, with all its bliss and pain, my sisters and brothers living in perception. ———-—————————————————————————————————————
(c) sally young eslinger 10/3/22
Thanks be to God
Time ticks away as a new dawn strokes your splitting heart,
with your mood swings re-writing my emphatic poetical art.
Although the fear of your demons may grip my soul
I am now immune to all the personalities you can't control.
I am lost without the warmth of your crystalline eyes,
so let your tears implode upon me under turbulent skies.
I've seen crimson and aquamarine ambers outside your tinted mists,
without boundaries or limitations, I'm one who always persists.
As I recognize the repetitive push and pull for the fearful,
you've so impulsively strained against us with forces so powerful.
I never knew there would be something sweet about a fatal kiss,
but the moment I laid my eyes upon your soul's tender bliss,
I knew no, amount of pressure could keep us apart.
despite my mind, always on an endless loop to restart,
I'll never stop trying to be by your side,
despite the havoc I will understand you tried.
There have been times you've named my trust an unfaithful land,
yet in times of turmoil you've never forgotten the future we planned.
Let me mould those wheels into emerald wrecking balls,
so we can tentatively tarnish all the forgotten falls,
as you swim from the flashbacks and triggers of satanic seas,
my arms shall always be right in-front, just as you need them to be.
Remember you'll regret loving me without maturity;
You’Il insanely struggle with immense insecurity,
because I will not let your imagination push me to insanity.
My spirit will guide me even when you feel disorientated,
as the keyholder to my chains, with you I feel liberated.
I'll constantly remind you of this forevermore,
When your fears overtake you like an irrational war.
I am the sunshine
I am the rain,
I am the pleasure
I am the pain!
Angry young man,
I am your last puff
of the day's first cigarette,
I am your first sip of life
from the golden peg!
Young lady,
I am your first kiss-
your ornamental love bites
which you touch,adore
and share with the mirror!
I am the teardrops
silently flowing down
the cheeks of a mother,
I am the emphatic joy
of a man,who has just
become a father!
I am the first gush of air
into the lungs of a newborn,
I am the last grasping breath
of a helpless,drowning man!
I am the dream,
that of a martyr
lost ,grounded and never to fly-
I am the National Flag
flying high in the blue sky!
I am all these,present everywhere
may be a little more or less,
I am even in all your hearts
search and you will get my trace!
© kash poet
==============000===============
liquor
crushed ice
an effervescent tonic
an engaging libation
a crystal glass an empty mass
a looking glass an engaging lass
a reflection fills the flask
an hourglass figure smooth as glass
a view deep
a deep view
a hot and hard jigger
an episodic embrace of the stem
a nicely paced repetitive stroked type grip
measured
a high pitch pleasured note of delight
a charge
and another...
...and another...
...and...
….....
...a spill...
...a swig...
...a swallow
an emphatic gush
a coupled roast
an orgasmic toast
a sexual rush.
31~10~2014
When I am gone, and from this world have flown,
I would admonish you to not forget
That I have loved and cherished you, my own,
And even after death shall love you yet.
But I’ve no wish to burden you with pain—
Not for one month, one day, one second’s time—
Insisting you remember would be vain,
And causing you such grief, a selfish crime.
While memory can help one to endure,
Distressing recollection can be worse;
Remembering, in some, effects a cure--
In others it’s essentially a curse.
Thus knowing this, my love, I won’t resent
Forgetting me, so long as you’re content.
October 2, 2019
Please note: though the second line includes what appears to be that old grammatical bugbear, a split infinitive, I could argue that the word "not" is not a modifier, but part of a compound verb "to not forget", ie. to remember; also, its position makes it not only a stressed syllable but also much more emphatic.
Devotion Poem - Our Dance (For Jim)
You are the first and last poems
God wrote for me.
You are the sparkler
I found flaming sun yellow between
The sprigs of early green grass,
Before the shoveled piles of February
Snow had melted away
Their last signs of winter.
You came unexpectedly,
Beyond probability, carting too
Much physics homework for your
Left-brained studies, and
Declaring, “I don’t dance for anyone.”
Emphatic. Like an evergreen.
But I had seen trees dance, just as I thought
I might go on dancing if I knew you.
Then you fell silent, telling your life to me
With your smile, while your eyes glanced
Through space dismissing time, sparkling
A reach to my heart for a continuous dance…I
Have never stopped my wonder, or my own
Silent joy surpassing the physics of falling
Through dimensions into your heart.
————————————————————————
(c) sally young eslinger 6/2/22
Thanks be to God
No saints amongst us write a father’s song,
He writes his own which claims no innocence,
As tones of sadness urge he move along,
His pen now takes the stand in his defense;
Atop the desk where sit respondent’s words,
Are pictures taken of his darling girls;
For them he’d fight an army full of swords,
And let none question love's resplendent pearls.
Though flawed imperfect flesh is worn as own,
And lonely eyes are often blind by mist,
He states emphatic that he’s never thrown,
Not once in life an angry violent fist.
May all now know forevermore this claim –
I’ll fight ‘til death for they that share my name.
Respectfully Submitted,
Phillip M. Garcia, Respondent
Father of Ava Elise Garcia
Father of Lily Belle Garcia
10/29/2016
Take me where the ocean rolls bigger than the pain in my
soul. Let me lay upon shore sand and hold its grit in my hand
while the ocean claims ground again, so sure of where it
belongs to begin its own fated end. Let ships on the horizon
remind me how small I am and how little I understand.
My pain seems so very grand yet it, and my heart bearing it,
will be gone long before this sand, so small, so mere in tiny
bits, but more earthly significant than any of me I have to
give. I have no distinct pain, all I hurt once ached another
name that millions could easily claim.
I do not want to feel love's sentiments anymore. I do not want
emphatic care blood in my core. My worn bruises need the
confusing wave cycle to diffuse. My heart wishes to comply with
my soul's voice, housed within, as it does whisper of peace should
I let go and fling the heavy pains my emotions have overlong
nourished and sustained.
God, let me tuck my aches inside a shell, please allow them
to only there dwell. I promise, I will sail the shell by my own
hand to swim the ocean depths. Allow the sea to free my
stored pain in deep, endless, salty motions that I may be
free from more tears of lame devotion.
Welcome friends, I know you will be most excited
with tonight's special guest that we have invited.
So, let's give a round of applause and a cheer.
Punctuation's star, Exclamation Point, is here.
Welcome. It's good to see you, Exclamation Point.
Yes! Let's do it, Johnny! I just got out of the joint!
My goodness, I was going to say, you're looking trim.
Tell your fans what kind of mess you got yourself in.
I guess I got too excited, opened my yap,
and told Comma he's lost, falling in the wrong gap.
I impetuously started a barroom fight,
my sentences struck him, with raw power and might.
I'm innocent, but somehow, I stir up commotion.
I'm just excellent at expressing emotion!
Hmm, tell us about the emotions you can express.
For example, what about happiness?
What a great question! Glad you asked it! I'm ecstatic!
What was I saying? Whatever, I'm emphatic!
But was it anger that landed you in the can?
Shut up, Johnny, I'll rip your bloody face off, man!
I guess subtlety is really not your ball of wax.
Do you do sadness? Yes, I weep and do my income tax!
Exclamation Point, it sure has been a pleasure.
Thanks, Johnny, I've enjoyed myself without measure!
and remember, Question Mark asks, and Comma will pause,
but an Exclamation Point thanks you for your applause!
On a shelf above his bed,
Looking like a fountain,
Henry has what has become
A little tissue mountain.
Each tissue gets one wipe or blow
And then it joins the pile,
A mound that had been growing
For much more than just a while.
When asked if I could clean it up,
The answer I keep getting
Is an emphatic No; I guess
I'm aiding and abetting.
It isn't really gross because
There's not a lot of issue
Allowed to make its way upon
Each single 2-ply tissue.
And Henry laughs when I point out
His tissue mountain's growing,
An impish twinkle in his eye
Which he delights in showing.
N is for nice, courteous with family and friends
A is for agreeable, peaceful disposition
Y is for young, specially in spirit
D is for discreet, keeping secrets
A is for adaptable, receptive to changes
I is for impeccable, having higher standards
V is for valiant, leaving fear aside
E is for emphatic, understanding others emotions
T is for teachable, willing to learn new things
T is for tolerant, respecting other's point of view
E is for emotional, feeling emotions intensely
Nayda Ivette
11-20-2015
DHONI
Here is our Indian Hero,MS Dhoni,
an ideal role model to many.
Whenever Dhoni is batting at the crease,
viewers say,"Do not disturb me please"!
He regards Seven as his lucky number,
and he is as cool as a cucumber.
Everytime he comes onto the field,he prays to the Sun,
and later returns to the pavilion with an emphatic win.
He looks calm and composed in any kind of situation,
and turns the team into a mood of celebration.
He is a real hard-hitter of the cricket ball,
and the target set by the opposition seems to be small.
He is very sharp behind the stumps,
and extremely quick between the wickets.
He is a perfect modern day game changer,
and the opposition can sense that they are in danger!
He absolutely loves executing "The Helicopter Shot",
and no other player can match his talent,in short.
He tries to bring the best out of every player,
and always looks at things in a positive manner.
He has been listed among the top 100 by "The Times",
and hope he achieves many more in his future games.
I Cooked the Book that Would Not Tap
A Doomsday, a nightmare gone wrong,
My hand shot with pain and didn’t stop,
Bandages hid the wound I wove for kong,
The silence echoed round the wheel fop.
I screamed with tears which said the news,
When sirenes had been screened for writ,
Draughts unveiled the blood for reviews,
That cared enough to dare read the fit.
Arching, the doctor stood vacant and here,
Physicalism bent metaphor until she looped,
Analogy personified emphatic nature’s fear,
When realism criticised cubisms’ truly trooped.
Critical realism still made no ontological sense,
My metaphysical slippers knew no god,
Subjectivism objected to empirical arms tense,
When constructivism departed from my odd.
I could not write to epistemology for methodology,
‘Cos clearly my relativity had got it substantive.
Moral absolutism saw humankind as pedagogy,
Still, not yet a guess, a list, a bond, gift, a plaintiff.
Rationalism was not a natural phenomenon, fair,
No predicates set my entities alight to condition,
The proposition adjunct to abstract and layer,
I imagined the mathematics that truly supposition.
This OR that, tip AND rat, not for me or negation
FOR ALL humanities THERE EXISTS a surreal,
Mere, underneath my formula, nude propagation,
Creating the sum of me that axiomed regal’s legal.
Logic. Logic, just pure blooded logic. Critical,
Crucial. Conscience, not questioning the cost, fact,
Never asking for terms or claim, the carer brutal,
The dame. The lame as mentioning the act.
Structural.
Rhoda Monihan
A BRIDGE OVER THE RIVER QUIET
‘Tis the infancy of yet another day
And I hear it crying for its bottle now
But I know the sun is no child anyway
It can be a sadistic son and it will teach you how
I live under a tunnel on the highway’s right
Yet wrong I may ever be
I found an old mattress the other night
so discomfort doesn’t bother me
Today yesterday is but an artifact
An ancient find to hunters of the past
But it seems the sun and Satan have some sort of pact
Alas, whatever it is will probably hold fast
I’m lucky enough to live with my lover
She’s agreed to live free along with me
And often when it rains we needn’t run for cover
The umbrella is our love to be
The term “shelter” means different things to different people I know
Shelter to some might mean a mansion in France
To people like me and my lover “shelter” means just somewhere else to go
Moved by an emphatic embrace and the lives we each enhance
To us rain, cold or snow doesn’t mean we get up and go
It’s the tortuous sun we know will eventually come
So we weather the weather knowing all we need to know
For my lover and I may be homeless but neither of us is dumb
Now let’s get back to the infant son and the fear of it’s adolescence
Because as we know children can often be rambunctious and rude
In the heat of mid-day we suffer an adult son’s insolence
And being fully grown it only treats us kindly when its in the mood
© 2011.….free cee!