Best Ensnaring Poems


Crushed

Look past
the faded little girl    braids and bows 
in a       polaroid picture
buttery yellow skirt 
curtsying     a smile
frog prince 
imprisoned      in her palm
under a creamy pound cake     sun 
(her grandmother’s recipe
sugar and spice folded carefully
with love and guilt
into a    thick summer sky)

daisies    like polka dots
piecemeal    on her bonnet
seem to stare       down
her face        with jaundice eyes
slanted above    ensnaring weeds 
swirls of sorrow    linger
 in knee-high field
where flowers grew wild         like 
freedom once felt

Look closer   picture fading
She         is running
legs bent      shouting from the page
stockings          peeled off
lanky legs    running
through                     her pain
till her heart        detaches
from a barefoot soul  
She still feels    spiky burs      in her heels
drops of            blood  
 zigzag               numb
beyond the treeline
memories   meld 
love and loss 
euphoric rush    warm winds fuel
an urgency         her creation
until lightning strikes
her grief   rushing to catch up  

through crushed wildflowers
fragmented patterns
under paths        at her feet
tears flooded       her field overgrown
She remembers   to forget
                Her mother
       buried         under 
        a distant willow      

She was taught 
by her grandmother
to be composed     
poised      like other girls
wad up      unpleasant feelings
slip them into    a corner 
of the cedar chest
under layers 
of afghans and quilts     
she     laid them to rest
long ago      but
never stopped
 her fidgety legs         from weaving 
through        floral tapestries
of field and meadow
wild brush turned emerald green      
in mourning

Her daddy passed away
ten years ago    today
He was buried       with wildflowers
tucked softly 
in his     lapel           and praying hands
he always said       windswept blooms
reminded him        of his girls

If you look closely     at the picture
of that faded little girl        
you will see her running
     from the graves 
         as the wildflowers crush
              beneath her feet

Premium Member The Whip of Your Selfish Whims

O
the bane
of being so slavishly in love,
to face another bloodless sunrise alone.
Myself, I’m spun in silken strands enthralled                       
yet, still stung by the whip of your selfish whims.
Your fleeting presence flashes like iridescence in light,
an elusive rainbow whose colors escape my grasp.

I pine for possession of one I cannot possess,
my burning being’s bewitched. 
This yoke of yearning pliantly possesses me;
ensnaring me in the exquisite twist
of the fervent temptations you weave -
as your amorous play strums the lusty lure 
of a gossamer thread I wish to follow to your soul,
whilst my purring thirst is captured --  then ignored.

O
the woe
of being caught 
in the frill of desire’s web,
aching for the thrill of arching pleasures,
craving to be melted by our molten fusion, 
longing forever, wanting and waiting breathlessly
for your wanton appetite to ravish me 
always and again.


Susan Ashley 
July 3, 2019


N/A
Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 4
Sponsor: Mark Toney


~ Poem Of The Day ~
   July 5, 2019


~ Third Place ~
Premiere Contest: Slave To Love
Sponsor: John Hamilton

The Secret Sanctuary

In moments of despondent spirits I turn to you,
the resplendent paradise of secret dreams anew.

The opalescent orchard orchestrates tender hopes,
like cuddling chrysanthemum my fading fear elopes.

Bursting bubbles of beguile blossoms sprinkle love,
frivolous faith nurtures nascent nest of white dove.

I find solace in sumptuous serenades through storms,
in symphony of mellowed streams, my anxiety reforms.

Intertwined petals of Cynthia and magnolia waltz,
undressing my weariness to dissolve draped faults.

Butterflies blissfully slip into alluring aurora,
a healing touch melts my heart in gleaming aura.

A sapphire gem dropped by the albatross as rain,
absorbs my tormented memories in nascent vervain.

The seeds of lavender mellows in whispers strum,
silk strings of your fir-kissed ensnaring soft hum.

How gracefully my soul dances behind velvet dew,
as Asteria and Aphrodite fuse their worlds anew.

In the vineyard of blushing lullabies in light,
my musk-soaked pages flip with snowflakes bright.

The oceans of my universe peek into a shore afar,
dripping in crevices of my sanctuary as your star.

I doze off to a euphony of embraced fingers in sleep,
this secret paradise, our eternal promise I'll keep.

August 17, 2020

Sanctuary Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
~Winner: 1st Place


Poetry Keeps a Day

Poetry will not keep you warm
Not like a cat nestled between legs
But, it hunts down manic thoughts
Gnashes the static till the mind gives 
Chases a thought till claws are bloody
Keeps you drenched in sweat
Yes, she mews for attention
Till its cries grate every nerve
Till I feed it words & want 

Poetry keeps me squirming
Caught in a net skimming a deluge
Waiting for words to be hauled
The big catch ever escaping  
Keeps me checking the line
Insisting I jump into cold waters
Foolishly like Ahab chasing a tail
Sadness is my white whale
Mad with promises holey

Poetry is a leaky bucket
Catching the rain of words
Within depression's storm
Coming like a cat with a pail
Impossible and torrential
Ensnaring me for an hour
Keeps me back for seconds
Promising an easy catch
Cold and slippery

Lady of the Night

Getting lost in the wake of a beauty so exotic 
Warm balmy night promises speak from her beckoning eyes
Ensnaring themselves in a web of sultry desire
As heady perfume of white jasmine permeates night skies

Playing the leading lady the Oscar is always hers
Perfect crimson lips set in porcelain skin perfection
Hypnotic blue eyes seduce bringing them down to their knees
Mere shadows of themselves left in its luminous reflection

Entrapped by shadows - A lady of chastity she is not
Embracing dusk welcomes her in it's ever watchful sight
She the mysterious mistress that women love to hate
Forbidden fruit for their men - She is the Lady of the Night

The highest bidder always wins her - she cares not who
Seductive and sultry or sweetly naïve and innocent
She plays the game well - whatever the gentleman fancies
To gifts of extravagance offered - she is indifferent

But when the games are done and she's alone in her chambers
For the one who stole her heart she sends out a lonely cry
Even though she has everything money can possibly buy

Her love is not for sale
It belongs only to the one who took it away
And bid her goodbye

Music Video - Memoirs of a Geisha - Sayuri's Theme FULL
'The Memoirs of a Geisha' Official Soundtrack featured Yo Yo Ma performing the cello solos, as well as Itzhak Perlman performing the violin solos. The music was composed and conducted by John Williams. Published on Nov 22, 2009

Fable of Felicity

In the orchard of opalescence
magnificent myriads of mellows
fervently flow in fountains
breathing beguile blossoms
a forgotten fable ferments,
in haunting hollows I hear.

My heart is a restless garden
with varying pulses of penumbra
conflicts caressing cuddles
tenacious tattered thorns
singing to sumptuous serenades
where brisking bubbles burst
butterflies spread beautiful wings
bees buzzing like ballerinas
to ballads in pirouettes--
a symphony calms my anxieties
descending from azure skies
but my vineyard wilts in agony.

A bird drops a seed of hope
from a foreign land in my orchard
sprouting to strive in storms
emanating exotic effervescence
ballerinas pause their buzz
butterflies flee in fear
serenades slip in streams
out casting the stranger seed.
I touch the seed with curiosity
blissfully in my meadow
melancholy melts to melodies
auspicious aurora allures
tender bud in lavender hues 
drenching my dulcet dreams
in showers of chrysanthemum whispers
draping my fears at dusk
embrace my weariness with love
Is this what I'd been awaiting
a stranger I've always known
Aphrodite in lilac curtains
blushes to unfurl the petals
my fingers touch her musings
her fragrance blooms my orchard
ensnaring my sapphire senses
sparkling in emerald dew drops
I plant her beside my window
she's my fable of felicity
vineyard reviving to life
as tendrils ascend to witness
her velvet lullabies 
"Sleep my love 
another garden awaits me"

July 30, 2020

Petal, buds, blossoms, bees, birds, butterflies! Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
~Winner: 1st Place


Premium Member Stroke of Liking

I was set in my ways
Downed café au-laits
In a den of privacy.

Though pain from a jilt
Still throbbed to the hilt
A regrettable history.

With no delusions
Of future effusions
I cherished my liberty.

And tried to avoid
With every fibroid
That lost road to misery.

Yet a sneaky charmer
Found cracks in my armor
Ensnaring me unwary.

It was only a glance
A pure happen-stance
No intentionality.

But a sound like a crack
That I can’t take back
A fated futility.

Made me squeal out loud
When if from a cloud
A bolt of liking struck me.

With no more deterrent
This ardent current
Put glee in my fantasy.

At the speed of light
Our romance took flight
In ionic felicity.

Sanctuary of Obscurity

Dare one impose upon the primitive soul,
Revolving around solitude—a savant hold warmer than the sun
Entranced by every ideal—loving many and no one
Would they hesitate to break the sensational sway…
As petals of tiger lilies fall upon its sunset eyes
Tremulous sighs and exhalations—dedicated to wisdom
Looking to the sky…a vast wilderness of celestial light
Fixated in the center of star-drafted darkness
The wheel of its heart turns smoothly
Oiled with only the finest knowledge
With brutal truths seeping into the empty spaces

Not even the most charming can break its stance
Feeble smiles melt away into frustrated admiration
For not one could dare embark upon her spirit
Without looking first deep within himself
Tearing apart the pride that so recklessly razes
Ensnaring all that behold him
All but one

Had one selflessly walked into the midst of this fraction of heaven,
He would watch faithfully a sunrise on the legs of endurance
And the embracing, smiling arms of patience
If one only left their guard for the Sanctuary of Obscurity
The skies of white light upon dark would open in reverence
The lips that are so fixated upon moist discovery
Would have their gentle hold on mortal purity
To allow such a moment to exist,
Kindheartedness must coexist 
And hovering humility harnessed deep in vicious sincerity

The Center's Footsteps

Thoust message rings,
But it is a wretched beauty.
Sew up thine tongue;
It forks in many directions,
Ensnaring, passing through the centers,
Weaving a thread gleaming, deceivingly white,
Yet drenched in the black goo,
The sticky gobs of our source, our blood.
Cast aside thine needle,
Let time make it blunt.
Wallow in thine sorrow,
But only for a moment.
Up, up with you!
The sticky gobs cannot protect thee.
See me, Hear me.
For I see thee...
Thou hast split thine tongue
To hide, to forget.
Thine forked words, black to all, clear to me.
Go on, go ahead,
Walk through its enveloping black.
And when you cannot run,
Crawl.
And when you can’t do that anymore, 
Find someone to carry you.
Thou art strong!
Let thine center give you new feet!
Yet,
If even thine center falls weary,
I shalt be thine legs.
I shalt carry you, my friend.

Premium Member Charmed Happenstance

Vanishing vestige of dank cavernous lobes
   My lonesome forsaken heart adrift
      Under the most alluring midnight crescent moon
 
         Towards a horizon yonder daubed with 
            A loaded paintbrush of golden luminescence
               While levitating melodic whispers

                  Of charm and sorcery perchance connive
                     Mingling heavenward to set the stage 
                        For a divine encounter with a goddess
	
                        Her wafting cloud ever so sublimely hovers 
                     Peculiarly fine exotic spicy fragrance
                  Ensnaring my compliant heart

               By glorious happenstance
            Spellbound and mesmerized
         Flutters on the wings of dusk

      Reawakening a drowsing lust 
   Rekindling and resuscitating the passion
To a sublime apogee of celestial folly



AP: Honorable Mention 2020

Submitted on January 18, 2019 for contest EIGHT WORD CHALLENGE-BARDENESQUE sponsored by JOHN HAMILTON  -  RANKED 1ST

Jaded Trail

Blithe fools traipsing through bleary hollow 
Airy sprites in hovering tents shadow
Brooding sylvan fringe shrouding light with her swaying willow
Jaded beams peep through the crenelated steeple's window
Sprouting thickets bristling with spiny tendrils each step harrow
Creepy vermin frenetically scurry under foot from burrow to 
burrow
A musty dampness shivers intruders; beneath feet liken's slimy 
residual doth grow  
Whistling winds hauntingly whisper a doleful strain 
Ominous portent overhead; hoot owls continuously bleet their eerie 
refrain
Perilous pitfalls surround; ensnaring cracks, crevices unwitting lives 
drain
Poisonous foliage ensconses the beaten path distilled with its 
potion of pain
Jagged course nearly run; wayfarers enlightened by each 
cumbersome travail 
Weary itinerants seasoned on nature's, menacing plain
Pensively treading the last mile over the rough, foreboding terrain

Frolicking Foolishness

It is good to be a fool once in a while,
What an extraordinary feeling to be a fool!
To know nothing,
To know everything,
Yet not convincing your heart—The most brilliant buffoon,
Letting your heart float like a boat
Without an anchor 
In the middle of a lake illuminated by the half moon that looks like a piece fallen from something ethereal,
Vision yourself in that boat, dear reader,
Doing nothing but just letting that moon’s love 
Lurk on your lips
While you yearn earnestly 
With your eyes closed like the petals of a timid lotus,
I encourage you to be a fool with me. 
The river of reverie might reduce the roughness of abrasive reality of existence,
The vastness,
The long blank whiteness of life—
The 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s, 90s
Of age are indeed agitating,
Colorless at times,
There are rainbows too,
But mostly it's white, serene and quite like a pearl or a marble. 
Some people ensnare their hearts,
They think heart is some petty prisoner,
But when the boon of life comes to an end
The truth hits them in the chest
And the chains ensnaring the heart 
Come gushing down with a roar like a waterfall,
Sudden and loud. 
Chained hearts often become hoarse hazards,
Chained and always chasing,
But chasing what
You never know. 
Heart is a bird,
A brave one 
Like all birds,
But let me remind you something, dear reader,
Do you ever notice the birds looking at the sky and singing soft melodies,
The melodies they don't sing when they are soaring high in the sky?
Birds need a bower too to rest and rejuvenate,
They don't have to adorn an armour on their chiselled chest all the time,
It's just not natural,
It doesn't seem right,
So take my hand and come be a fool with me
Or just be a bird and fly freely.  
Your soul is nesting your heart,
Let down the gloomy guard,
Nurture the nest
And give it a rest.

Premium Member Enthralled by those Eyes

your eyes with dense black lashes
casting colors of sapphire
wet with ensnaring passion
hook me beyond flight.

Premium Member The Tree Of Life

Inspired by The Tree Of Life by Gustav Klimt

Life seeks stillness at the root,
craving unfolds lattice of creeping flare.
Two figures lean on the glimmer,
her eyes transfixed in chasm, his petrified,
their silence, a still violin chord
held between the creation and the end.
The tree is the bridge for them,
an aureate whisper in the emptiness,
ensnaring their world in a dream.

The void gleams with potential,
where love gilded by eternity
waits to become a memory.
In the maze captured on the canvas
life is spun from bronze boughs
where past and future entangle
within a frail frame of mistake,
but spring air drips love on leaves,
in the tree of life flowers bloom again.

A design of the human soul 
weaved from golden leaf of silent yearning, 
upright as a glittering bridge 
between the earth we stride 
and the mysteries we cannot measure
in a non-linear journey of experience.

The branches do not grow straight, 
they coil on themselves in golden twists.
Perched quietly on the radiant boughs 
a solitary black bird sits as a shadow
in the forest of gold -
the quiet memento of our mortality.

A mirror of the cosmos 
reflects our roots in the dark soil, 
yet we’re ordained to be alchemists, 
make our own gold, 
as we reach for the stars.

Premium Member The Berlin Wall

The swirls of freedom’s fervent dreams
On canvas raised in bitter cold
Upon oppression’s wall of screams

A city severed at its seams
Gleaned comfort in art’s bright console 
The swirls of freedom’s fervent dreams

Beyond the walls, a feared regime
With liberty, in stern control
Upon oppression’s wall of screams

The inside; vibrant colors gleam  
Expressions brushed of angst, unfold
The swirls of freedom’s fervent dreams

The gray outside; true evil’s scheme
With barbs of wire ensnaring souls
Upon oppression’s wall of screams

A palisade of painted streams
Immersed in thought – cascading bold 
The swirls of freedom’s fervent dreams
Upon oppression’s wall of screams

~~16 Mar 2016~~

Note –During the later stages of the cold war, the West Berlin
side of the Berlin Wall was an unrestricted outlet for graffiti
artists to express the freedom absent on the other side.
© David Mohn  Create an image from this poem.

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