Best Enameled Poems
A sweet deep voice resonates across the empty air landing affection
Caresses the chin forming shapes off ladybugs melodies glide and swirl
Guiding soul heart ablaze inside each melody note I hide love supreme
Released in cosmic fireworks in the air we share mystical pearl juice honey
Under the cascading gems of bright colors we lay gasping excited
Through the smoky mist fingers touch I feel a burning heart flowing wild
One with your electric current smoldering glazed with a little nibble
Enameled glowing gems embraced in the deepest slumber awakens you
Entering a world stone buildings either sides magically birds chirping
Whistling joyous tunes walking a cobbled path to one beautiful maiden
Who turns a handle on the music box enchanting sweetest songbirds air
As she opens her mouth out comes the voice of an angel calling enchants
Dancing in the heavens of ones mind these eyes are lead astray catching fuel
First glance a shooting star joining hands together electrifying crown
On parallel world we turn the handle as this sparkle begins floating
Inside space fuming embers of magic dust blew open crystal portal
Star spangling dewdrops deeply spinning blindly knocked off ones feet in one glance
Sharing our vision a bell strikes raindrops in midnight dreams glass slipper falls
Falling all over you lost in regal aura kissed in amazing grace
Spectrum apex walking up steps temple of sacrifice circling moon dog
-----------------------
This is an unrhymed quatrain of 18 syllables. The poem style is called 'Circle of Gold' which denotes the total of 360 syllables count from all 20 lines.
A collaborated poem with Liam McDaid.
Poem style invented by Liam McDaid.
I was inspired by this music video "Flamme à lunettes" and Liam kindly accepted to collaborate on this.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ej6gP7snEko
There is a sense of trespass
on this frost enameled morning
as I leave my footprints graffitied
across the white grass,
sending the noise of every step
to crunch my presence
into a wide, frozen silence.
I stop, marooned in the middle
of a crystalline surround
that seems so brittle that if I take
one more step I will cause
this fragile world to shatter.
It is so delicate, exquisitely beautiful
balanced on the edge of melt.
Even my taken breath seems
to send a threatening shudder through
its chambers. It would be good
to stay here, to be taken out of time
and become part of what is distilled
just below the quiet
of this blessed freeze.
But the sun now is coming through
the trees casting its rays across
the crusted ice. A thin, steamy mist
is rising. This lovely world is beginning
to melt and another is getting ready
to emerge. Birdwings brush the air.
My footprints are dissolving into grass.
The flight had been long
as the jet soared through night.
My neighbors were lifelessly still,
weary for sleep, the night would fulfill,
and morning would graciously greet.
High up in space, I silently watch
as the sky passes from the deep.
Moving at its pace, much lighter still,
the sun, birthing change at will.
I must await, new dawning is nigh.
Daybreak speaks in a soft faint glow,
appearing shyly on the far horizon.
But in a blink of the eye,
God painted the sky,
with tones found in welcomed aurora.
Sweet blush of spring, orchids in bloom,
purple mystery in dawn’s warm glow,
rainbow tints on a panoramic screen
vividly show this God-given scene,
molded in joy and heavenly peace.
I placed my hand on the window pane,
watching white billowy clouds afloat.
God gave us his all and gave us his best.
On this soft tenderness, I could rest
if my hand could but touch.
Far above where angelic clouds surround,
the plane adrift or afloat,
clinging both far beyond and below
in this ocean of fresh fallen snow,
welcoming us into the light.
Such a spectacular sight to behold!
Sun-lit clouds dressed in white,
the scene so enameled with grace,
seemed to foretell that heavenly place,
where he awaits with pallette in hand.
I stayed three weeks and traveled far,
saw beautiful views and noted places,
but none can compare to that morning’s
glory in dawning.
Thank you God for all creation!
The show was over
The clown face ran out
in an enameled wash bucket
The water became like thin paint
in different colors
The face with a smile
and tears under his eyes were gone
His confidence was washed away
The clown was no ordinary circus artist
He was a poor, lonely and sad old man
And I was a spectator to one
ordinary person behind the mask -
trying to keep life's tragedy at bay
He wiped off the last paint residue
with a worn gray towel
- while tears were burning behind my eyelids
.. the real heroes move in silence
- and never cries
02.03.2020
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Clown at the Abyss Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
2nd place in the contest
Atop a walnut table with ebonised legs
Sat a Victorian brooch, white and red.
She wore diamonds and rubies brilliant and bright,
That sparkled within all sources of light.
Bejeweled little butterfly trimmed in gold,
A wonder you are for the eye to behold.
"Am I not beautiful?" inquired the dragonfly,
from its perch on an occasional table nearby.
Dressed in diamonds, rubies, and mounted on gold,
With enameled wing and tail, a dazzling bouton pearl...
It too was a wonder for the eye to behold.
"What about me!" shouted a diamond pendant watch.
"And me!" shouted a brooch with a white paste heart.
"What about me?" inquired a flower, art nouveau...
"Enough! shouted a disgruntled Cameo,
dressed in pearls, diamonds, rubies, and gold.
"We all are wonders to behold!"
Generative Persistence
Give it a name; “generative presence”, “persistence”
Emergent with life, feeling and a pulse
Send it on its way while clinging to the egg
Enable it from a distance to become of use
Keep yourself in a suggestive cocoon
State of fixation, enameled in stasis
Embedded in concrete reality if only to form
Wrapped in patterns, in sequences, in character, in disarray
Care to be objective, immersive, informative, and inspired
Decline to describe, suggest, discuss, gaps between life
Grasp the past meandering. Record the record of history
Understand; you are a guest in your own home
In your own existence; fantasies not included
Invoke the yoke of yellow, involve useful dialogue
Desirable, normal, absurd diagnosis of that which is
Adapt to youth as it passes
Glanced at by events unfolding, reflected in a mirror
Placed appropriately in your path
From the context, content of that which is perceived
In the persistence of memory let it live
Love's Symphonic Passion
by Odin Roark
Shimmering whispers urge forth,
A beginning seeks release from darkness,
The voicing of struggle proclaims arrival,
Like miniature cymbals of resolute announcement,
The humble cries of emergence
Clash ever so quiet with air and space,
Once portending grace,
Now its melodic genesis.
The matrixes of parent/conductor
Anxiously hum nursery rhymes
Through white enameled side-rails,
Vertical portals to unfettered ears,
Absorbing even when sleeping,
Evolving passion's invitation.
The precious first movements
Grow from those one-finger dissonant phrases,
Sometimes pounded upon the black and white landscape
Where an merging piccolo's infant smile
Finds support by paternal contra bass and maternal cello echoes.
Remembrances of tinkling melodies
Soon enjoin its pure and simple
With conflicted movements of trial and error,
Evolving the inevitable adagio of growing up.
Hence forth
The scherzo's innocence of adolescence
Crescendos into threatening measures,
Where layered tones of choices
present challenge,
chaos,
counterpoint to independence,
or sympatric harmony.
The family of voicing
Develop love's thematic material,
Rhythms,
Keys,
And more complex harmonies,
Creating the free fantasia,
A coalescing of passion's varied workouts.
Its strings worn thin,
Arriving at life's largo movement of peace,
That place of reflective consonance,
The weight of its chambered containment
Rests forth its closing bars,
Housing now but the waning echo of a baby's chorus.
Its shimmering whispers
Float upon one last wave of the baton,
Stirring life's ethereal essence
Into heroic chorus
A higher bonding…
Awaits.
Something about January
Broods my blood to slush.
A new year's unknowns
Hearkens hope to hush.
It's a dark visage that stuns,
Heritage of Januarys past.
Death calls my loved ones
With winter's harshest blast.
It seems we're trying to cope
By saying "Happy New Year!"
Yet one must toast the hope
That a wish can fight a fear.
But I think—I'm sure I'm right
The Reaper so deathly scary
Will call me an ice-enameled night
In the cold heart of January.
------------
The Lord is Poetry
He is Poetry to Me
In a enameled and
Amazing way,
------
He is the voice of Eternity
He is here to-day
------
He come's here to-day'
- To -
Write down name's
Making sure not to
Duplicate the same
Fore there is only
One Soul to one name
Even though they may
Posses' the same surname
------
And to each one Spirit
With only one Heart
That which be-sets'
Them apart....
Fore the Human Heart
Is some-thing special
They determine where
The Melding will start
-------
He writes' the name's
Of people in Life
Whom hath toiled and
Endured the stench and strife
In order that He may assured them
The amenities' of ever abundant life
------
Then there is of course those
Who have been there
And has to meet the " CUT '
Twice......
GF
All by myself, alone, I softly chant your name,
Own up for our defunct weeping bond and I take the blame.
It was our love very pure and not lusty lure,
Unsure, kaput and insecure I thirstily quest for love’s cure……
Cannot truly imagine that I let you go, I own up and take the blame,
But for us to be happy I did so, To silently blow off our love’s flame…..
My heart I am sure you did not know,
Was tattered and torn from the time I let you go,
I wish our bonds could have fondly stayed on,
Woven intertwined with emotions, enameled with love’s lacquerers firmly bound.
But I still take the blame,
Too late for me as this body I had lit and set aflame.
Till our laden guilt we overcame….
From above as my body burned,
Saw your woeful self as you wailed in lament and yearned
I take the blame.It is now too late, I take the blame
in the valley of stone icons and swing sets
concrete angels with brightly enameled orange
ribcages crash violently into one another.
They leave cracked cement with crawling
octopus monikers throughout the dirt lines.
stretching always stretching out further.
difficult, strange dandelions with austere stern continence's
remain in between a backyard swing set and a stone madonna
draped in gaudy necklaces.
and in the year of out lord I sought I foot print in the sand...
Taking Stock
--------------
I only tell of sunny hours...
A s u n d i a l, I live for sun.
I want all humans to concentrate
on what is good and fun.
I only tell of hours in sun,
and people look at me.
I am blessed with the sun's grace
so noble, and I plea
that humans never concentrate
on damp and dark and dingy,
but look at my enameled face
and take step back from whinging.
--------------------------------------
2/4/2019
The walls resonate
like the inside of a brass bell.
Footfalls act as the clapper bouncing sound
like a ping pong ball from wall to wall.
The antique oriental rug with its dragon vase
had long left, the black enameled troche
no longer lit the floor in puddles of orange light.
Hollowed out, the place was….
scooped like a cantaloupe free of the seeds
of man, of childish laughter and parental spats.
Dust bunnies scurry in the late afternoon
through the sunlight from dirty window panes.
Spiders weave webs in the corners of long
forgotten dreams…
Soon, all too soon,
this will be the case, the leaving will come
footfalls will lead to the last closing,
the brass doorknob will no longer reflect my face
and the emptiness will fill with the dreams
of a new family...
so much precious existence
found me rooted with mouth ajar
as sigh asper the dentin-cementum
so mud dear reader (with dem perfect
enameled pearly whites), aye har bar
envy for those with a complete set
of eight incisors, four cuspids (i.e. canines),
eight bicuspids, and twelve molars
(including four wisdom teeth) tabulating
many hours in the car (engendering
saddle sore bony tuckus)
plus regarding chunk whereat,
pernicious cementum funk
viz distraught psyche, when muss self as a lil monk
key decades after being examined
by family dentist Doctor Marcus (NOT WELBY),
excellent practitioner (button irate pulp pill
people ' especially children) eater – the grump,
whose private practice located
in Levittown, Pennsylvania,
and when prepubescent underwent
pertinent more explicit focused
intense noninvasive procedures
asper subsequent cause of speech impediment
determined why air didst jump
thru nostrils, (speech therapist at Henry Kline Boyer),
neither thin nor plump
informed parents
of Lancaster Cleft Palate Clinic –
fifty plus miles one direction),
where chief prosthodontist
Doctor Mohammad N. Mazaheri, DDS, an Iranian
whose expert reputation, sans strict manner didst trump
his aura, karma evincing clipped commands
forceful as a vocal whump
before launching into meat and potatoes
of crux comprising real aim
constituting modus operandi
(and cresting away from details indirectly tide
into main intent, nobody aye blame)
for thine dental debacle quandary
(managed by gumshun,
whereby eons hyperbolically toted beyond google),
and despite the optimistic stance
wool worth anesthetized numb skull claim
nascent malocclusion faintly affecting,
hinting, pointing toward Periodontitis
(despite diligence attending to oral hygiene frame)
the manifestation of major looming crisis compromising,
forgoing, instigating, et cetera loss of teeth,
this (after agony in league with separate occasions
twice wearing braces, concomitant Extractions
of wisdom and removal of crowdsourcing –
closeup toward the front of mouth teeth - game
Exotic egos evade exit endings, encompass=ing eccentric
extensive earwaxed essentials/ergo enameled equi,
existentials everexuding extra egg entrenched eyecons,
extricating eerie effervescent
ephemerals. Ecoli epitaths engulfing erratic enticing eras, escorting
electric eel embraces establishing estival estates ever enticing
etiological esrogenic excerpts effecting extracurricular edsel
edacious eddy ecto estrogenic ecstacies---endemic endowments
enervative energies, etheral engagements, ethylolic etudes eulogized
evinces evasive evidenced evil equipped evocative enforced
excimer excised exercised excessed extrapolated, extended, excess-ed
extravagantly exualted enviously extroverted extrinsic extrose
excused excited exclusive evolved evangalized eventualated
everlasting etude estranged estopped etched eternal enriched
enthralled estate established espirited expressed essemplastic
erosive erratic errantly erased equipoposed epitomized eualized
epicured entombed enthused entertained enthroned entitleded
enlightened enlaced enmeshed enlisted enlarged endured.
Enclosed encounters enlist enclaved endeavors. Endangered
empathys em pale emotive embalmings empty emulsions
extricated eleventh elevated elegant elementary existentials.
Elderly ego ejections, elastic executions, egrets. Ecstatic entrails
endorsed. End-demic equivalents extracted.