Best Engraving Poems
~ Yolanda was--her name ~ Featuring:) Leonora Galinta
From a hell storm,
A mighty she-devil took on its form
Like a woman scorn ascending from the sea
Haiyan whipped across the central Philippines,
A deadly typhoon, maximum winds of around 315
Terrorizing the fragile mind before making landfall
Hitting with the center eye off from her hostility
A merciless turbulence that came and changed everything
Like a Massive Storm
She comes in as the wise thief of the day and night,
In her notorious gust of rage roars in disguise of thunder,
With the company of her own knight of darkness,
Raze all in a blast of waves wherever her path crosses,
Ruining one of the cities down to a devastation in the land
“Pearl of the Orient Seas.”
A mighty tempest in a woman’s name…. Yet,
A disgrace with more than an immortal man in strength,
Nature devouring nature itself
Including her stewards and stewardesses
An unmerciful encroachment, robbing, killing adults and children.
Yolanda, so cruel in her evil walloping!
A guest left smiling,
Engraving echoes of tears, from every single mourn
Vain, wicked, and colorless -no other air’s compare
The lives she stole, one heart at a time
Pouring down the most nauseating rain,
The pain is dissenting with everyone-- everywhere.
The bully of wind, invading sands of serenity
Unknowingly, far beyond your back----------------------------
Everybody will be summoning up more than your strength-
:)
Categories:
engraving, death, deep, evil, sorrow,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
The distance between us means nothing~
l've f a l l e n in love with you, despite the moon sleeping in your eyes,
I d r i f t towards you like a galaxy of stars.
Craving your ivory fingers to unfurl my ebony crest,
flying me to thrilling northern lights,
as I grasp your fluttering wings onto my heaving chest,
enabling you to u n r a v e l and devour me,
beneath artistically crumpled sheets,
sprinkling sweetness across mystifying rivers~
of toffee lakes that are ready to burst,
as you sensationally dive
into these restricted fondant gates,
to passionately feed beyond the luscious linen,
finding your way around enraptured embodiment.
An enigmatic enchantress you've so effortlessly tamed,
conquering my walls whilst within a timid pupa,
confined inside the vulnerabilities
of a voiceless cocoon,
but waiting for your mystical vapors,
to unleash spring blooms in our souls,
engraving "forever" on rose tinted glasses,
for summer steam has commenced calm seas.
But these venereal spirits can r u n wild,
a vacant space that shall leave our eager ink
to create reckless nights,
feeling your claws ravishing their
way onto my poetic spheres deeper and faster,
letting your hands explore as my plesiosaurs guide,
while you set my canvas on fire
with your alluring quill,
and you grip onto my realms
like a momentous love ritual.
A scavenger hunting for hidden passages,
full of t r e a s u r e and p l e a s u r e
sinfully scribbling about how tomorrow shall be.
Categories:
engraving, love,
Form:
Free verse
An echo of footsteps fill the serene salty air,
muffled thuds like faint taps in slow motion,
moving in a somber sonata over a creaking pier.
The bitter breeze is a harbinger of forthcoming storms,
but in an empty promenade the silence is soothing.
My anchor heart finds comfort at the sun shimmering,
upon a lullaby of waves calming the senses,
I lose my thoughts, almost forget myself,
as they softly caress moist sands,
sinking deep into trodden grains,
each ripple touching my hollow soul
like messengers of prophecies,
with sweet premonitions of pleasure and treasure,
but some resemble embers eternally burning,
leaving behind a directory of debris,
engraving intensely, as each fragment
weighs me down like burdens from a wreckage.
The mind ponders,
how I am a northern shore
whilst my life is a southern coastline.
What could have been and what will be,
what is mine and what is not,
what I actually deserve and what I have got.
In these internal fragilities,
we are like estuaries without an embankment.
But in this stillness the sunset is evidence
how the end can be graceful.
I gaze towards the ceaseless seas,
wishing the tide could carry me away,
but I am a broken boat left to rot
upon cold sands on a winters day.
Sunday Scribble
Categories:
engraving, analogy, emotions, i miss
Form:
Free verse
Amplifying vehemence of thunder, roaring on skyline ablaze,
Lightning strikes, shattering clouds, sparkling scorching haze,
Blasting dry, sunstruck meadows, drenching thirsty terrain,
Gushing streams, rushing thrust ferocious of turbulent rain.
In realms of dimming yonder, trees whirl, shake, and sway,
Grooving to rhythms of foothills, expressive of feisty ballet,
As incessant downpour pelts, dispersing sweltering heat,
Dancing on prairies and rivers, resounding a boisterous beat.
Down the mountain, over plush valley, beyond an arid knoll,
Breezing with the fleeting storm, reinvigorated vistas scroll,
Scintillating in beams of gold, twilight soon brings to fore,
Adorning arc amethystine, where dream-scapes violet soar.
Enlightened in scarlet rays, as grimace of humid malaise decays,
Revealing a glint, avid day, piercing through tenebrous daze,
Misery retreats rapidly, withering anguish of a vanishing day,
Engraving motifs crimson, upon tapestries once mired in gray.
Reveling in unfolding scene, gawking eve’s resplendent tempo,
From the street, through windows, fixating on the skylit show;
Eyes enamored now applaud~ orange, indigo, smile of rainbow,
Peeking through blazing halo, flaunting art of evenfall aglow.
Categories:
engraving, rain, summer,
Form:
Rhyme
Night Meets the River
The deep night sky meets the river
With stars sparkling in ripples below
The water moves with a quiver
To a kiss around the bend, it flows
Meandering glimmer of hope shines through
Peaceful sounds reach the quiet land
With soft music in the air, playing too
Where water and rays merge into a band
The moonlight fills the sky above
Spreading light through the forest trees
Shining on two gentle hearts in love
As apprehension quickly flees
Moving with currents, love lifts to the sky
This mellow night slowly does ignite
A lovely passion with a sweet sigh
Engraving a memory, with a beautiful sight
Heidi Sands
1/4/18
Categories:
engraving, beauty, love, sky, water,
Form:
Rhyme
I have felt the rain
I have bared witness to such horrendous pain
I have died a few times over
I have hidden inside a smile
The fresh scent of morning dew
A sea faring fog, coming for a landing
As I travel back to childhood days
Where meadows and the sea were paradise
Now in the dark of night
In the dank basement of my life
I have become the carpenter
With hammer and saw, I build a crate
Then I craft a box of lead to lay inside
Then still, I mold a box of silver
To lay inside the lead box
Upon which I make one more box still
Crafted of pure gold
Artfully engraving my life on the sides
I have toiled for years
Creating these fine boxes and wooden crate
Now comes the most difficult task of all
Scalpel in hand, I cut out my beating heart
I lay it softly in the golden box
I seal each box one inside the other, until I seal the wooden crate
The box of my heart has turned crimson red
My blood the final artwork on my finely crafted piece
With my last breath I fall upon the crate, quite fully dead
My heart now protected, from all of romances arrows
Poison arrows fall and black roses cry
Categories:
engraving, heart, introspection, romantic,
Form:
Light Verse
While claws of full moon pierce the lanes, beware
For Hallow slakes on a witching twilight,
Ghoulish tricks from dark shadows choke the air
Engraving beams with ripped imprints of fright!
Halloween Moon Contest of Eve Roper
10/20/2015
Categories:
engraving, dark, halloween, moon,
Form:
Quatrain
In my diary of destinies,
your song left a sweet scar.
In the silent savagery of time,
fate falters, floating like a feather,
yet my soul still sings your name.
In ivory and ebony hues of hollowness,
you bring colours to my monochromatic existence.
I find no wonderment in worthless words,
losing patience with pondering in poetic passions.
Intrinsic ink no longer flows in unwavering waves,
yet my thoughts won't stop my heart from bleeding,
seducing me to rewrite our tale in cranberry skies.
We've been engraving metaphors into our souls,
portraying purple star kissed tulips between our poems,
blossoming bronze blushing gardenias in my love garden.
When the last petal falls as prose like personification,
I'll place you gently in between unread chapters,
for you're the embodiment of my poetry of colours.
I gaze beyond enchanting hills draped in green silk,
wondering if love was a thorn less rose in an empty desert,
would it perish like lonesome lips without your kiss?
My muse is floating towards your majestic shores,
but will I be cursed with a thousand springs without you?
Distance can be cruel with melanin dreams and muted nights,
serenading sweet symphonies and melancholic melodies.
In my beloved's oasis, maybe jasmines have thistles too,
like beautiful memories of a once majestic masterpiece.
The horizons to your eyes can be violet, marigold or indigo,
you could be a lily, lotus or an orchid in fluorescent orchards,
just don't abandon me to bloom under midnight tones,
as my forever ends with you under sapphire skies,
as your eternal gardener radiating in saffron rosy rays.
Categories:
engraving, lost love, love hurts,
Form:
Free verse
Without you my words are an unadorned poem. By poet.
At the edge of silence this soul screams,
unable to save the decaying flowers in her garden of deceit.
When her sadness is in love with me,
anchoring emotions weigh me down,
as cathartic metaphors reveal a labyrinth of tears.
In an unadorned monochrome world
hope floats from purple petals to ebony buds,
where a jaded heart is breathing to exist.
But If black wasn't a colour how would stars glow?
Would the marigold moon be forever invisible?
When grief is a guest how would we portray darkness?
Satan will always seduce scarlet poetry
inducing Lilith to dance in the ballroom of temptation,
where demons meet me in the wasteland of wicked souls,
but I've already drank from the fires of hell.
It's been a while since your rose darkened my garden,
so I search for pastures of poetic peace,
where idyllic dreams compose an effervescent melody.
Life is an endless journey of adversity,
I've become a king of trials,
engraving my seeds onto a tapestry of tulips.
I am my own warrior polishing a maroon mirror,
so I can sing with an orchestra of angels.
Those who judge my words,
say a rainbow will overflow into the shadows.
We are all petals of imperfection sharing the same sun,
envisioning vivid visions of verdant valleys.
My palette of poetic musings manifest
verses in revolving echoes of kaleidoscopic tones.
My blood flows through emerald ink veins,
in hues of burgundy bliss like blushed blue butterflies,
tangled in turquoise tranquillity,
yearning for serenity from a peach and rose sunset.
Destiny cries to the empress of the waves,
to adorn me in her effervescent treasure.
To kiss me in the cerulean bay of harmony,
under the shimmering of azure moonlight -
as miserable colours can only heal from her touch.
Categories:
engraving, absence, analogy, love,
Form:
Free verse
“Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love. It will not lead you astray.” Rumi
Life can be an incomplete glossary,
speech a haunting ghost,
in search of a perspicuous poem -
to express unspoken thoughts.
I remember when she said,
"Cue me poetry"
So, I became her perpetual poet,
engraving sweet soulful words
upon her bitter spiritless lips.
Fate had turned her into the Queen of Darkness,
but my heart glows in the dark.
Together we illuminated like a trillion twinkling stars,
outshining the enigmatic effervescent moon.
Her essence infused a refreshing presence,
like morning sunshine after a night of rain.
Slowly she became a pilgrim of my poetry,
and I, a sojourner lost within her soul.
As I wandered through her secret chapters,
my word weaving revealed her book of scars,
each drop of ink resembling her tepid tears.
Each vexatious verse purified through
a catalyst of catharsis, healed her wounds.
We are like quill and scribe,
vowels complimenting consonants,
completing an impeccable vocabulary -
without her there is no muse.
Categories:
engraving, love, muse, romance,
Form:
Romanticism
Memories burn deep
engraving us with fire
To destroy or save
Categories:
engraving, life
Form:
Haiku
Your ebony hair curled and cascaded untamed,
some swirled in the stream of craving squall,
some laced the lilting lattice of lust
on your forehead of ivory canvas,
engraving the contours of the evanescent charisma.
I wondered if this was your last image,
I would glimpse flicker in the wind to fade in oblivion,
if there was no tomorrow.
Your almond eyes of the azure sea waltzed
to the melodic waves of fervent music,
the eyelids danced with the flutter of butterfly,
floating in the air of yearning on charming wings,
weaving the wondrous fabric of trance.
I wondered if this was your last dream,
I would deem drift away in the wind to wilderness,
if there was no tomorrow.
Your crimson cheeks soaked to shine
the patina of the blooming rose I adored,
spreading seductive scent in the beguiled breeze,
with the touch of my desire caressing your face,
rippling with rapturous hues of glowing glamour.
I wondered if this was your last portrait,
in the twilight hour I would see it glow,
if there was no tomorrow.
The buds of rose bloomed on your luscious lips,
swathed in the lilac luster of the sunburst dawn,
the attractive allure glinted with gorgeous glow
like pearls of dew on pristine petals of pink rose,
shining like a star in the sequined sky.
I wondered if this was your last smile,
I would sense in my memory the stardust stow,
if there was no tomorrow.
Categories:
engraving, lost love, memory,
Form:
Free verse
Ubiquitous like a shining star, I felt her presence near and far
A smile she advanced, echoing in my pause, how lucky I was
Touching my heart with cadence of music in melodic visage
Engraving forever, with romantic lyrics, our eternal message
Composed by her eyes, in a soothing voice, like playing a Sitar
I imagined her to be all beautiful inside, before she parked
In front of my eyes, with a loving heart, exactly as I thought
June 22, 2018
Second place in Seven lines of romantic heaven contest by Silent One
Categories:
engraving, romantic love,
Form:
Free verse
The Salon of Forbidden Ideas
is a place where the free-thinkers go
to express their unsanctioned opinions
and explore what they aren't meant to know...
At twilight, they slip through the shadows
of the alley 'twixt Far-Left and Right,
wearing black masks and cloaks of red satin,
bearing lanterns of unfiltered light.
The door to the salon is fastened
with various fashions of locks---
each one with a key and engraving
of the name of a theory or hoax.
For the one with the keys to unlock them
there awaits a most pleasant reception:
A tea in an elegant parlor
with others so-freed from deception.
Over salvers of tea cakes and lokum,
and samovars piping with steam,
they indulge in uncensored discussions
(like the cats who have gotten the cream).
The portaits of Nietzsche and Darwin,
and of Freud and Marcuse and Marx,
gaze down with intense indignation
as the fireplace feasts on their works.
Engraved on the mantle is FREEDOM,
and the roar of the flames, "Liberation!",
and the parlor is bright with the fireglow
from the canon of indoctrination.
Outside, in the mist and the darkness,
the justice wolves prowl on patrol---
sniffing fiercely for dissident skeptics
in their bloodthirsty lust for control.
The tea in the parlor continues---
as the wolves run the alleys in vain---
til the night-shadow fades into sunrise
and the guests don their masks once again.
Do you know the way to the Salon?
Do you have the keys to its door?
Simply follow the compass of Conscience,
and the pull of your heart to know more.
The alley is narrow and lonely;
you might lose your family or friends,
your religion or good reputation
before you arrive at its end...
But if you are yearning for freedom,
and the knowledge of truth is your goal,
there's an ear for your voice at the Salon,
and refreshment and peace for your soul.
Categories:
engraving, america, analogy, freedom, perspective,
Form:
Rhyme
o the vast lawns of white stones silent....as a sparrow
tends her new clutch
only in engraving they speak soldier's names....and
the wars they fell in
men and women of brave....as the bugle weeps in
taps too young in sleep
hearts in cadence stilled....wars are storming
bastards of fire roaring death
soldier's stories whispered in....aligned standing
rows of everlasting
Categories:
engraving, 7th grade, 8th grade,
Form:
Monoku