Best Envisions Poems


Spring Bud

My 
                               breath
                          shivers under  
                       a rug of loneliness,
                    a sleepy heart huddles
                   against such memories 
                 of togetherness and not of 
               goodbyes, hating to disperse 
               the fiery rhymes of your lips, 
                as well as the warmth of its 
                 sweat...tastes like red wine, 
                   then it beats...and beats
                     gently, as it envisions
                          you, in an early
                                misty
                                   s
                                  p
                                r
                               i
                              n
                            g
Categories: envisions, life, love, nostalgia, sad,
Form: Shape

In His Bed

In his bed she lies in wait.
For when he returns he will surely sate.
The time in the shower was just a tease.
No time to savor.....no time to please.
 
In his bed she envisions how he looked lathered in soap.
The smile he gave her when she went for a grope.
His mouth seeking hers for and amazing kiss.
The mounting pleasure..... turning quickly to bliss.
 
In his bed she tingles from head to toe. 
From wanting him so bad, but he had to go.
An hour of yearning will seem like forever.
A blush reddens her cheeks as she imagines them together.
 
In his bed her fingers start to roam.
Finding her pleasure points, she lets out a groan.
For it's his lips and hands that she craves with desire.
Just the thought of his touch makes her perspire.
 
In his bed she anticipates his welcoming return.
Full of alluring charm that will certainly make her insides churn.
The smell and taste of him will awaken each and every sense.
Driving her to the brink of desire, each time getting more intense.
 
In his bed she hears him call out her name.
"Oh Darling........I'm going to drive you insane!"
The quivering begins for she knows he is right.
There will be no sleep 'in his bed' on this particular night.


........................................................................................
Categories: envisions, lost love, passion, time,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Spider Robinson's Plug In

sitting, spine curling, eyes glassy in rebound reflection 
internal struggle in cyberspace brings smiles and a few brief howls
feeding off my own mass, I disregard this reality

neural synapses tickle the pleasure centers free of charge
have I eaten, have I bathed, have I moved in how many hours 
regard the fantasy, I am the princess ax in hand

clans form around the click and ping the web drawn tight glows
world within world, the always ever after grows and grows, unreal
reality, the construct of naive minds, re-envisions itself



First Published by [Insert Coin Here] Anthology 2013
By A Kind of a Hurricane Press
Categories: envisions, addiction,
Form: Sijo

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member He Must Be a Poet

They say he’s a loser,
the shabby look does not bother him,
Sitting by himself and lost in his thoughts,
Seems like normal thoughtful moment for him.

They say he’s a loser,
He goes deep inside a love song to find the meaning of love,
He feels the sorrow in the sad songs to understand the pain of his heart,
He plays the sad flute music to meet his lover sometime.

They say he’s a loser,
He peers in the flower blossoms to have a close encounter with the beauty,
He looks up to the clouds to send his love message to his distant lover,
He envisions eternal love in the perpetuity of waves beating the seashore.

They say he’s a loser,
What people say, it does not matter,
He loves the peace, stillness, and silence in his thoughts,
I guess he must be a poet!
© Jay Narain  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: envisions, loneliness, poets,
Form: Free verse

Fearing To Bloom

A Garden rejoices when it envisions colourful exquisite blooms everywhere filling the empty spaces.
Lush green grasses are the attire it adorns and flowers become the embellishers. 
Even a sad heart would feel enlightened & placid by visiting flowery garden.

In my heavenly serene garden.. once I sat and admired myriad flowers widely seducing the butterflies and bees through its aromatic succulent nectar and pollens..
They were all enjoying their appetizing feast.

At the same time..
I also noticed a pink hibiscus bud curled like a baby not wanting to bloom,preferring to remain a virgin..!!
I keenly observed as the butterflies were trying to kiss the petals and black bees constantly humming tunes to arouse it.

The mother hibiscus did not bother 
Instead kept preparing herself to wither as her time was over.
The tiny bud wrapped the petals tight, covered her face and thoroughly weeped cogitating about losing her mom shortly and simultaneously scared by her predators who were competing around to conquer her heart.

Witnessing the struggle there climbs a saviour ant with his warrior team to save her from the trouble.He reaches to stimulate the tip & guarantee her that she will be safe and consoled her to stop worrying unnecessarily.

In few minutes competitors flew away and the bud was free from fear.
Visitor ants said "cheers" and left .
Mother flower bid good "bye" and shrivelled..
As the little one slowly unwrapped her petals to look at her world ..
A tear drop, up from the sky fell upon finally to deflower her.

She being fragile, now bloomed to be the most attractive flower in the garden.
I stood up went closer ,smiled at the blossom captured a picture and conveyed my first good "Hi." 

28-7-2020

Second place in the contest.
Note:Petal, buds, blossoms, bees, birds, butterflies! 
Poetry Contest.
Sponsored by Silent One.
© V. Deepa  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: envisions, beautiful, fear, flower, fun,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Rachab of Jericho

Deliberately inching its way toward break of day,
The morning sun begins to emblazon the barley field.
Relaxing and watching the orb find its way,
The lady of the house waits for night to yield.
Like every morning, she is seated there,
Enjoying the dew scented breeze on her veranda.
Feeling its coolness on her scalp while combing her hair,
And the warmth of the rising sun becoming grander.
Her mind wanders back to the city of her birth,
Just over the rise, beyond the barley field’s treasure,
Lies the city with the most famous name on earth,
Where, in her youth, she was a lady of pleasure.

To Rachab went all of Jericho’s possession,
By decree of God, for which Achan was stoned.
For this soldier could not control his obsession,
Though aware the city’s riches were God’s own.
With God’s grace, Rachab’s wisdom grew,
And she made the city’s outskirts her spread.
Her land into a field of grain did accrue,
A breadbasket from which hordes were fed.
Her hires were the finest laborers in the land
And were busy harvesting barley all spring.
She paid the very best wage to every man,
Cause her crop was the best early rains could bring.

The fields and glades, that gave her pasture form,
Seemed sensuous in every contour and rise.
At daybreak, contrasting tones were the norm,
Painted artfully by the brightening skies.
Mounds appeared convexly round breasts,
Lovingly sculpted over a span of human girth,
Whose beauty was able to put the heart to a test,
As the machinery of memory rotates the earth.
Babbling brooks flowed from shady nooks,
Giving refreshment to denizens of land and sky,
Producing a scene of green worthy of  picture books,
That not one skilled artist would dare deny. 

Gingerly she rose the doorway torch to quench,
Watching the shrinking darkness become shadows.
Rachab calmly returns to her veranda bench,
To observe butterflies dance above the meadows.
In her dreams, she envisions a more golden age,
When royalty would be attributed to her seed.
A zephyr flows over her mind turning the page,
But she still aspires the prospect of the throne to accede.
What a lovely story to behold just beginning to dawn,
Rising out yonder, just beyond the horizon of time.
How we yearn to see that age return, now long forgone,
So our hearts may once again be joyous and sublime.
Categories: envisions, faith, happiness, history, inspirational,
Form: Rhyme


The Principal and His Cable

The grumpy principal athwart the class
is walloping the learner ad infinitum
with his computer cable,
and screeching his lungs out
his wrath and his tranquilities;
he says she’s late for school yet again.

Madly she pulls across the desks;
pleads for pity in pigsty floors,
whilst he despite his heavy paunch
chases and corners her.

He whips and whips the weeping non-plussed
girl till the cable slips in his hand. Her tears are
like explosion of waterfall in her cheeks and her pain
still so fresh:

He picks it up and pursues the poor girl
who endeavours to escape from him. She
jumps and climbs atop the desks on her way
to the classroom door but quickly plummets to 
the floor to receiving another angry wallop.

As hard as he can he strikes the poor girl till his
hairless bald is dripping wet with sweat. The 
learner’s heart is a watershed of fear words
can’t even describe. His visage is sadistic and
turns into something I never liked or loved…

Well, it is over now and the poor girl is
sobbing sadly in the library,
Yet the principal plunges and slouches
over his circling chair in his office. His lips mumbling,
pooped out –In slight remorse of the cruel hiding 
he’d given the poor learner; and lugubriously he envisions
the twinge she’s had to bear, but it ain’t no use
for what’s done is done.
Categories: envisions, fear,
Form: Narrative

Trip Twist

In the void, sipping the zoid,
with mental properties of tripping on the spiral.
Falling down the tail of lions, awkwardly spinning.
With upside down tunnel vision leaking through.

Solidifying all matter that matters,
melting into the walls of your brain.
It tickles all the raindrops dripping in your eyes,
satisfying your desire of a synchronized pattern.

Bleeding purple from the rainbow,
and turning into swirls of diamonds.
Slipping exuberantly beside you; driving you wild.
Where the shadows stop the spirited scream.

Devour yourself into the omniscient grip. 
Icy cold finger tips scratch the surface of your divinity,
bringing you closer to the God who whispered in your unborn ear,
situated in your flesh from birth to death.

It embeds itself in the pupil of your eye,
dancing with your spirit and licking your soul.
Black shapes of madness wrapped in chaos and euphoria.
Twinkling and blinking dust of a cloud. 

Haze filled skies and blood filled smoke raining from the clouds.
Envisions of clowns and demons laughing at our demise.
Chilling sensations of sickening mannerisms,
mechanisms and mechanics sought out to destroy the tiny creatures.

These creatures running crazy into acceptance of demise.
Deprived of life, scared of death but giving into it's taste.
Taste buds quiver as the taste grows sweeter.
Death, oh death, tell everyone who you really are...

Too long have you been hidden in the shadows you cast, 
too long have we rendered your pain.
The world grows sicker as the hairs in my head grey. 
I'll never surrender as demons always circle.

Today, begins a new day of our fight.
And I have a good feeling about this day. 
Onward, we have united our minds and gathered ourselves within. 
Always ready for we accept our fear. 

We accept our hate and everything in between.
Accept it all for what it really is. 
No amount of doubts will over throw us. 
Onward, to peace.
Categories: envisions, addiction, adventure, analogy, angst,
Form: Concrete

Premium Member The Artist

Look at the tall, young man
walking down the street
in black, tattered shoes.
He is wearing a purple beret
and a bright orange and white
striped shirt.
His dark blonde hair is 
long and layered.
His body in thin and lean.
He has a handsome face
with dark, arched brows
that frame his grey-green eyes.

He walks with a nonchalance
yet there is a determined look
on his face.
His mind is full of creative ideas
lost in fantastical thoughts.
He observes and contemplates
films and edits
draws and envisions.

He is looking to make his mark
in the world
To have his voice heard
To stand out among the many.
The competition is fierce
yet he will not compromise.
The goal is authentic
self expression.

Through the pain of
repeated rejection
he continues to put 
one step in front
of the other.
One day he will
succeed, if he
perseveres.
Keep walking
young man
my son.




Written in April, 2004
Categories: envisions, art, dedication, son,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member A Single, Long, Stemmed Rose

She lies upon this bed with a rose across her chest, symbolizing all that she once had and will not too soon forget
But his conscience can’t be bothered with her pain, and the tears that stain her pillow one by one they call out his name
She lies in repose of their last lover’s breath, and she clutches the rose so tightly imagining it’s his head upon her chest
She can remember the way his fingertips felt as they danced across her smooth skin, and she envisions for just a moment that they could be this way again

But in her heart, she knows he left this bed forever as she recalls when he last kissed her lips so sweet, and she holds so tightly to this memory that her heart won’t let her stop seeing in her mind on repeat
She can feel his arms around her and feel his lips upon her skin, and she lies there just waiting and wishing that it could have been 
She cries out his name into the darkened room praying that where he is he will hear her cry, but she knows that as this rose, he has left her memory to die
How could something so beautiful hold another knowing that it’s beauty will fade? But to her it will still hold its meaning long after it changes its shade

When he gave her the rose, he said he loved her so true, and she gazed into those eyes she loved and could see and feel it too
She knew they shared a love that would never be surpassed, and as she lies here all alone on this bed her heart repeatedly asks
“Why wasn’t it enough to make him stay?” “What changed his mind?” If she was all that he had ever wanted, why can’t they go back in time?
She wonders sometimes if he can still feel her that way that she can him? While he is lying beside someone else does he ever pull her close and pretend?

Or does he sleep soundly without a thought of her ever crossing his mind? To hear him tell it he moved on with his life
But here she lies as though she is strapped to this bed, clutching onto a single, long, stemmed rose with the vision of the man she will forever love in her head.
Categories: envisions, longing,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Unconditional Love

Love isn't just a single word or feeling
Said to tickle an ear and leave you reeling

Nor is love abstract and void of care
But what one envisions and does all year

We convey our love by things that we do
When a loved one is hurting we hurt too

Love is conveyed by deeds not merely said
And connects us all with a common thread

Love is a word some find difficult to say
But it leaves an enormous price to pay

Love means when one hurts us, we forgive
Not five years later to bring up and relive

Love sometimes forces on us a long wait
But love never delegates us power to dictate

We don't have to agree with each other to love
For God gave me what I was unworthy of

What's held in your heart your mouth will speak
So before speaking do a mental critique

love is never idle or to be cast in mothballs
In short, I see love as a servant in coveralls


From Brother Jay's morning sermon
Happy Valentines day
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: envisions, love,
Form: Couplet

No Frills Vacation

As she envisions boarding the plane,
she whoops a big hooray,
but then she's quickly back to earth,
realizing all the bills to pay…
Her dream vacation is to one day
see the sights and sounds of London, 
but for now she'll have to settle
for some bathwater filled with Calgon!
Categories: envisions, dream, funny,
Form: Light Verse

Love Is a Verb

Love does what it says and it dreams
Love has faith, it envisions streams.

Visions of beauty, peace and joy dance in it's head
Garlands of flowers drape around Love's bed.

Whispers of oceans and birdsong fill its air
Love breathes heavenly breezes of all things fair.

It hopes forever more.
Will you open loves door?
Categories: envisions, bible, inspiration, love,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Wonder - She Is Collaboration With 'Allen Poe'

(A collaboration I wrote with a fellow writer/poet who has not shared his work 
previously but gave me permission to share now. We will call him "Allen Poe")

Who is she
I wonder where she's from
On the outside looking in
She looks really young

I wonder 
Where she goes for fun 
And 
If she knows her smile
Can outshine the sun

I wonder
When was the last time 
She made a new friend
Strictly platonic
Someone to confide in 

I wonder-If she knows 
Everything will be alright 
I wonder
What kind of plans she has for her life

I wonder 
How will she achieve 
I wonder
If she believes

I wonder
What she values 
I wonder 
If she's true blue 
I wonder
When she’s feeling weak
Do she have someone to talk 2

I WONDER......

Tag name ~ "Allen Poe"





She is
a reason to wonder
peeking in her life
would make one ponder

She is 
aged beyond her 32 years
still full of wonder
nightmares and fears

She is
on the surface
polished and well put together
a wonder she hasn't tarnished
with all she's weathered

She is
a beacon of light
for her children
their life

She is
sometimes guarded and blue
many wondered why
for so long she trusted none
had no one to turn to

She is
broken yet very strong
never to allow
circumstances or wrongs
to break her drive
a wonderful wonder she's alive

She is
open-minded and free
confused about life
her destiny
consumed with pain
yet envisions victory


She is
welcoming and optimistic
sweet and true
she believes
honesty is most critical
in all you do

She is
a friend to all
though all know not
what a friend should be or do

She is a wonder
a reason to wonder
a wonder to see
I wonder if you're wondering
If “She” is me...
Lay
Categories: envisions, friendship, introspection, lifefriend,
Form: Free verse

Lumbersexual

The metro man is out! Smooth skin,
They say, is now no longer in.
The sexy man has facial hair,
Some stubble, or a beard. His flair
Is outdoor rugged, manly charm.
He wears tattoos on hairy arm.
He loves his plaid, wears flannel shirt
And jeans, and sturdy boots with dirt.
Instead of going to the gym
He gives his apple tree a trim.
He loves environment and Earth,
Drinks fair trade coffee, finds it worth
To make organic, home baked goods,
Envisions living in the woods.
If he has nothing else to do
He goes out for a microbrew,
Opens the beer can with his knife
And dreams of self-sufficient life.

7/10/2017
Categories: envisions, humorous,
Form: Couplet
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