Best Exhales Poems
Once I'm gone
I'll only be remembered a small while
I'm a tiny tick on a large dial
The words I breathe will stretch about a mile
Even those who are in history books
the Kings writers and famous cooks
The gorgeous people with talent and looks
They too in the end fade away
Don't get me wrong it's all okay
We might try to hold on but none of us can stay
All have a bit part
on this watery ball of granite and clay
Some are calm others make waves
One smooth skinned another shaves
She loves him while he's attracted to Dave
They both pretend because they have to behave
Each in their own prison living like a slave
The preacher too plays his part
trying to find people to save
Some couples love from the start till death
She breathes in he exhales her breath
Their children thrive Bobby and Beth
While some mothers go it alone
Daddies leave and are never known
Children left to learn life from a smart phone
Some chase riches when other just want to eat
Walking on pretty shoes while poor men have cracked feet
The music plays so clearly yet we fail to hear the beat
So I wonder what's it all for
This wanting more and more
Is that really God knocking at our door
Yes it is I believe it at my core
So why do we leave it closed
Maybe because we fear our sins will be exposed
a life manicured and posed
could be unfroze
Freedom from each prison chose
Instead why not drink from the garden hose
Wear our humanity
discard these labeled clothes
Count down the future with fingers and toes
Within a momentary breath each spirit goes
As minds open each heart then grows
What happens next only God knows!
(this is a form called Swap Quatrain, where first
line's phrases swap in the last line of each stanza)
In shadows’ veils, at end of night,
sweet Moon removes her modest light
and softly, yet again, exhales -
at end of night, in shadows’ veils.
As she departs, her love’s released
to climb the stairway to the east.
They cannot meet to share their hearts.
Her love’s released as she departs.
She watches him while hid from view,
the way he kisses morning’s dew,
and sees gold rays spill from his rim.
While hid from view, she watches him.
Sad Moon, alone for centuries,
with awe has watched Sun leave, cerise.
while she, afar. . . how cold she’s grown!
For centuries, sad moon alone.
She takes his place so he may rest.
And though forlorn, she’s always dressed
in lace, for Luna has great grace.
So he may rest, she takes his place.
For love of night, for love of day,
she can’t implore him that he sway
from course. To be apart’s their plight.
For love of day, for love of night.
Exquisitely frail, a lone flute exhales, leaving this heart in a flutter
Cascading aloft, soft violins rise, from the flow of smooth silver rivers
Swelling the throat, sending spirits afloat on a sailboat of pure ecstasy
Transforming me now, through the mist all alone, where the music can take me away
A symphony of poems, transcends from above, where folklore and hope never ends
Soaring along, and honed from the heart, from the one who knew the divine
Yesterday's score, sublime as it is, takes me beyond today's shore
______________________________________
Inspired by the music of Smetana
youtube link to music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3G4NKzmfC-Q
When Again We Meet
Softly he says, "Should I die do not wait for me." She smiles,
"Just as the moon exhales no light without first a breath from the sun,
without you I'd be in darkness; what is paradise without light?"
04/17/2018
When you are
an agonizing
echo from a
benevolent voice,
life exhales in
mahogany haze,
spreading across the
lachrymose meadows as
scarred rivulets of
sandalwood scents,
where ceramic
rhymes slumber in
watercolor coffins
with opaque metaphors,
weaving hoaxed
hymns of the nascent
heavens within these
mortal hues.
I'm a bronze brushstroke
of origami colours,
pinned to the weary
wall as the state
of forsaken art,
splattered in acrylic-
resembling sombre
diamonds that
knit ebony pixels
of my onyx heart,
scattered across the
blistered brims,
framed from
fate crossed palms;
doused in poisoned
henna depicted
in dismay, to portray
the painting of despair
within my splitting mind.
Isn't the monochromatic
shade of an aesthetic
mural a clementine
symmetry, where ruby psalms
stained with black peonies,
bleed thistle-ribboned
tales from an orchid's silence?
Not every artist
can mold
peace from a
pastel palette
filled with poignant
petals engrossed
in purple pain,
but poetic fingers
can sculpt an evergreen
masterpiece through
crisp flakes of
tumbling torment,
carried through
arctic mists.
But is there a
teal-azure texture
to create a
timeless tapestry
interlaced with
lavender musings?
As melancholy soars
beyond roseate realms
like a moon-winged butterfly,
fluttering across
cantaloupe sunsets,
etching heartbeats of
hope in harp's periwinkle pigments,
when twinkling jewels
lose their shine,
leaving tales untold
to waltz with
forlorn silhouettes-
dwelling in a gallery of grief.
For, in the calligraphic
corners of chaos,
I’ve found healing,
between ethereal pages
within a cathartic labyrinth.
lately, i have been in this female mood
for some kind of abandon, that
which exhales the tigress fire
out of my lungs digging the veins
from a week's' routine movements
pruned to the barest of a payroll’s droll…
antiseptic cubicles dictate the rags of
chlorine-infected lunch where rooms
i strut around have nothing except
robotic people, same rye snacks, basins
of expired coffee and files of schizoid
folio..
just outside, the sky coughs
of gas masks rendering a paper bag
of humanity to suffocate on clanking bones
along claustrophobic subways: such a
hemorrhaging day waiting for 5pm
to hiss, halt ,and heave…
i need to dance with the arms of a
jazzy moon fondling my back and
whistling the tunes of recklesness
when all but the spirit lusts for is just a slice
of raw breaths spiraling into tangy
punches of rockstar blues... spare me the cranky
claws of a friday so sore; i alight like
a feline dressed in black lace with cabaret wings,
feathers splattered on glitzy cobblestones...
voluptuous legs hot and wild sniffing sultry
lavender scent of friday night’s parade;
and the band notes howl, free like me.
Carol Eastman's Your Favorite Poem
by nette onclaud
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cardboard cathedral, fortress of dust,
you held galaxies in your corrugated ribs—
a kingdom where spoons became swords,
where thimbles gleamed like crown jewels.
O relic of scuffed soles and weary feet,
you were ark and archive,
sheltering braids snipped in summer,
ticket stubs from matinees,
a child’s palm-smudged drawings
of dogs with too many legs.
They called you empty.
But we knew better.
You were the alchemist’s vial,
turning nothing into everything:
a teacup carved by stubborn hands,
a dollhouse with wallpaper scars,
a toy soldier’s trench lined with yesterday’s news.
Father’s voice, rough as burlap,
said, We had bottle caps and stones,
yet here you stood
a holy reliquary of enough.
Beneath beds, you gathered ghosts:
dog tags, a boy’s last letter,
a photograph of Mother at sixteen,
her smile a secret pressed between layers.
When the new world became
all chrome and neon and more~
you remained, stubborn as a scar,
whispering:
The riches are here, inside my ribs.
Now, as I lift your lid,
the past exhales~
a scent of glue and dime-store perfume,
of hands that built castles from lack.
O humble box,
you were never just cardboard.
You were the map,
the compass,
the keeper,
the proof
that life sometimes fits
in a 13x8 shoebox.
*this poem is part of the introduction to my soon-to-be-published book of memoirs titled "Shoebox Chronicles."
I might forget you for a little while
but when the last desert hues of sunset roses
wrap the bareness of these arms
Out of nowhere and without reason I think of you
Darkness falls and so my tears
but then the wind wafts its zephyr breeze
and exhales away my fears
My fears,the deepest of fears I ever fear
A pearlescent moon rises above an unshaped horizon
casting its opalescent glow upon my face
making me feel your warm embrace
Silver dust descends so softly
like your lips over my skin
It confirms you've returned back
from wherever you have been
Your return brings back the melody
as you love me unexpectedly
Oh my love come close ,Come lean on me
How you make the stars hush breathlessly
Once again you play your music
on the muffled strings of my heart
Once again the fluting sound of distant birds
fulfill two souls that can never truly part
Oh my love come close ,Come lean on me
How you make the stars hush breathlessly
Still,so still they keep our secrets
and would not reveal life's destiny
Tnks for the inspiration,not for the contest
(For those who wish to participate its the contest
-'How you make the stars hush')
Another layer of lavender scented lotion
Rubbed in vehement laughter
A quelling of sadness
Covered up in mascara insanity
Livid strokes of feathered paintbrushes
Hoping to see the big picture
She cried like oil paintings without a purpose.
A treasure hunter searching for rubbery remedies
Without heart’s sanctified atrium
To light the way
She bled from carnivorous pores
Bites against feeding palms
Struggling licks upon pacifier wounds
Mouth
Shut
Stone’s lonely lyric
Thrown against fragile lighthouses
Beaming through unacceptable horizons
Investigation of deity’s hidden agenda,
She questions validation’s esophagus
Its vocal chords
Torn
Another squeeze from lavender bottle
Empty
Its exhales shedding infantile whisper
…
A bounced reality check
Declaring that it wasn’t a disease
That afflicted her bones
©Drake J. Eszes
Love maker,
Body taker Love shaker,
Hot whisper,
Peppermint & jasmine in air
Tickling every body hair,
Reverberating into the Queen's chamber,
A tiger's den teething to be,
Safety in no layer, romance the pillar of this prayer,
Our auras igniting flower vases ablaze
To compliment our shadows,
Personas fevered with juiced up joy,
We both played Aces,
Mine the Spade her's the Diamond,
Together we make an Ace of Heart's place,
Caprice keeping hold of Club's Ace,
She exhales stars from a mouth murmuring for moments of senseless beauty,
Purring for pleasure painted with a kiss,
Illuminating my frame with pixied permission
Unharnessed we are, as spontaneity seduces strategy,
Craving the next second like atoms in a spin for sin,
Feeling each other in ways undefined
Unrefined, simply, lustfully,
Loyal to needs supernatural,
Gifted in gritty game,
Rubbing her rose with fingertips of cool flame,
Giving her the wand that was once only mine,
As lovers now, belonging to Poetry's promise,
Complete partners, reunited treasures -
J.A.B.
Winter finally exhales its last frozen breath
as I inhale victory over our duel with death.
Slowly, the snow melts from its deep drifts,
as we cross life's bridge and seek Spring's gifts.
I rise from my bed where I had lain for weeks,
tiptoe to the cradle to see the blush on her cheeks.
Pink glow of health, my child peacefully sleeps
and breathes easy where death no longer creeps.
Finally, life smiles and gives us another chance
as Spring renews the earth in her colorful dance.
Tulips, clover, wisteria in profusion everywhere.
Life is more beautiful when its been given a scare.
Through an opened window, my eyes partake
Irises budding on the banks of the thawed lake.
Water hyacinths being visited by the honey bee.
Visions of Spring I thought I'd never again see.
Baby birds in their nests, call their mothers to be fed.
My little daughter's cheeks are becoming scarlet red.
I'll nurse her hunger with motherly love, missing so long,
while kittens purr, and robins sing an enchanting song.
How glorious it feels to be well and so vibrantly alive.
My precious child and I will now blossom and thrive.
A sun drenched pasture is one of the season's charms.
Tomorrow I'll walk in clover with my babe in my arms.
A prayer to give thanks for this sunshine flowery day
and restored life that almost took hers and mine away.
My garden's finery lavishly adorns sweet Mother Earth.
It's a daffodil day! A time to enjoy Spring's new birth.
Spring, an appropriate name I've chosen for my child.
Precious infant nurtured when Winter winds turned mild.
Ruffles of pink adorn you like the petals of a cabbage rose.
I promise to keep you safe, so close your eyes and doze.
Nymph of my heart, I pray that you become a lovely flower.
Grow into a woman, sweet as jasmine on a garden bower.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Contest was finalized on 4/13/16 Written on 3/20/16
The rosa blanda embroidering your face
will become the veins in my tongue reaching to clog my throat
go past the tonsils and vocal chords and windpipe
down and down still, burrowing into the esophagus
relentless in its pursuit, just, just, just to lay seeds in my chest
tumor a pea, peanut, grape, walnut, lime, matilija, peach, grapefruit
straining muscle surprising itself with the ability to withstand the stretch
craving asphyxiation, those lungs may covet paroxysm
but grieve not the fulfillment of a destiny
this ache, this devastation was meant to be
no, they won’t be careful of what they wish for
you’ll become the air I swallow, and the organ that inhales and exhales it both
viciously lush beauty anywhere and everywhere
so when you see the body that used to be mine,
you’ll gasp in horror or awe or both: which one? I’ll never know
the garden you planted nurses no speech, nor soil, nor hope of infertility
just a promise of bloom and perpetual harvest
a pretty letter from dainty lips, viscous honey quenching its thirst
a giddy blush warming embryos out of stout cases
a brush of apple-sun cheeks dawning moonlight-budding leaves
just a gaze and my heart will melt,
sand that brazenly melds into laminated glass
gifted to strong hands smothered in peppermint lotion
who will keep it safe in their loops, whorls, and arches
brindle cedar irises roots to this infatuation
their existence cruel to a poet who only knows
words mere facets unworthy of describing
fields of cosmoses a cosmos itself
choking on fantasies and tears of scarlet drupes,
I retch out garlands born in guileless meadows
and as the last petal falls,
the sweetest rose hip takes branch
its only sin a love too big
Through a vast jumbled valley of cacophony's roar
One voice
In tones of soprano, alto, tenor and bass
Speaks a universal epiphany
In a rumbling
Resonate
Reverberation symphony,
Neither also or bass,
A quest for agreement of the heart's dialect
Through a maze of unspoken speech
A cluster of sighs
Harmonious chorus of shared joy
Singular groaning lament of empathy
Echoes of gossamer laughter
Murmurs of grief's intonation
Piercing vents of apprehension
Quivering titters under the breath
Shadow symphony of breathing
From the four winds - four seasons -
The tongue of humanity
Exhales in unison a plea
Reaching
From dawn's first breath in dappled divinity
To time's conclusion into the immortal voce sotto.
He sang sweet songs, sweet needle point lullabies
His eyes were crystalized, their awestruck blackness ate me whole
I stayed mesmerized by his carelessness and smooth complexion
He spit ease and promised comfort
His perversions helped to define me
He fed off the helpless story my eyes told
Like a rat chewing holes in already worn socks
The deeper the needle dug, the closer we became
2 more strangers brought together by a spoonful of pretty crystal flakes,
Praying for something better
The dope trampled through our veins, fusing us together
I take the shot and let it break me to pieces
I become fragments, collaged together to make one unnecessary disaster
I am legs. I am eyes. I am lips. I am warmth. I am sultry. I am body language.
I am delirium. I am carelessness.
I am 37 flavors of wreckage
I am the thrust in his hips and the look in his eyes. I am property.
I am the dope sack and the remains left behind
I am just weight on the mattress
I am another girl on another motel bathroom floor
I am the holes in my arms
I am confined, super glued to a picture of a drug addicted whore
Yet, I still believe I am endless
I stay paralyzed in this moment, in my fear of a better way
In this ecstasy
I stay paralyzed in my regrets, in my remembrance of all things lost
In all the moments I lost my control in an empty dope bag
It wraps around me like lights on Christmas tree
My bad decisions and remorse surround me
In a cheap motel room with broken windows and a broken tv
It breathes in my heartbreak and exhales my defeat
I am alone but my broken parts fit right in
The sticky windows separate us from daily life
This is a place of isolation, not escape
The morning sun doesn’t shine on us
We’re just chasing after freedom in the wrong place,
Singing our needle point lullaby.
A prelude to darkness will glide on wings of twilight,
Night will slip its ebon shawl upon the sky
and twinkling stars will loosen dreams
that nestle in surreal gleams
Reality will open the dreamer's eyes
As shadows walk across the wall,
The arms of night holds the mystery of the stars,
As moonlight shines on mystic waterfalls
Dreams will take an imagined flight
As Morpheus shifts the shapes of the mind's dimension,
Things will be revealed in dreamland
Which may be a brief retention
Blanketed in slumber's peace
Riding gentle waves of serenity,
The troubles of the world are gone,
Until time exhales the seconds to dawn
11-16-2022