Best Explorations Poems
The old stream doesn’t burble
like it used to in Spring’s past -
rambunctious in youth wild it ran
racing the sun and chasing the moon
splashing leaping and tumbling
over, down and around rocks in its shallow channel -
giving it rollicking laughter
The old stream doesn’t play with sunlight
like it used to in Summer’s past -
when unending yellow dahlia days gentled its flow
allowing for reflections and explorations around each bend
and for savoring saffron skies and plum-shaded shadows
that seemingly stretched on forever -
giving it invincibility
Autumn saw a change in the old stream
under a herald of goldenrod fireworks
waters waned becoming tired and tamed
its banks and shoaly bed littered with Fall’s golds and reds;
a once lilting voice grew quieter
as nocturnal rhythms trespassed towards winter’s solstice
and under the cover of darkness
a cool moon stole the stream’s slow dance with the sun -
giving it vulnerability
The old stream remembered not the goldenrod days
nor the purpose of its earthly path -
Winter charged in on his frosty horse robust with rime
and laid his icy hands upon the sleepy stream -
draining its dreams of a pulse beneath a frozen facade..
but from below the stilled surface a silver current flowed free
… giving the stream eternity.
Susan Ashley
April 12, 1019
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 23
Sponsor: Mark Toney
*Rime: frost formed on cold objects by the rapid freezing of water vapor in clouds or fog.*
Categories:
explorations, age, appreciation, life, seasons,
Form:
Free verse
Where Are The Words …
I Am Looking For Words …
… That Will Give Meaning
To Meeting You, This Evening
And What Can I Say ? …
What I Long To Say …
Instead of, Good To See You Friend
And Oh, How Have You Been ?
… Such Polite Conversation
Is Safe Presentation
Nothing More … So Much Less
I Need Hunger- Honestness
Packed With A Passion
Full-Out Conflagration
Instead of A Shy, Dulcet Tone
I Wanna Torch-Talk You, To The Bone !
Use Words, To Sear You To Your Soul
Singe, Deep Inside Your Soul
Soft and Husky In Confessions
Words, That Demand Actions
Emotive, Elusive, Essential
Elocution of The Quintessential
Romanticism Expressed …
The Pleasure Of Your Face, Eagerness
In Bold Explorations, Evolved
From Virgin-Feelings of First Love
That Make It Seem … Like Last Night
Invoking Future Visions, So Bright !
Oh, Where Are The Words ? …
I Am At A Loss For Words …
So Many Things, I Want To Let You Know …
Instead of Just Saying … ‘ Hello ’…
For: Ismael Nieves
Who Has Such A Passionate Style To His Poems
(and Also, The Little Joke of Big Words Between Us …
Hope You Enjoy This One Kiddo - Smile)
Categories:
explorations, introspection, life, love, nostalgia,
Form:
Light Verse
The first
close-up of Mars was 1996 since then-
a flotilla of fly-bys orbiters landers and rovers
fourth planet from the Sun
roman God of war it is called
always the question is Mars habitable for living life
key to existence water is there water on Mars
could living creatures still exist
perhaps WE will become life on Mars
a continual chain of explorations finding new discoveries
polar ice caps
drifting clouds in its atmosphere
seasonal weather patterns
huge volcanoes the size of Arizona
canyons and proof of former flooding
it is rocky and cold and dry with a-
a hazy pink sky (that seems beautiful to me)
is Mars habitable for humans
the Curiosity Mars science laboratory
rover is on a bold exploration of discovery
for science
for technology
to find answers to questions and questions
did you know you could send
a postcard to Curiosity
the future holds promise with the launch in 2020
of a robotic science rover seeking life
all part of the Mars exploration
program to address the key question
the potential for life on Mars
And why 2020 you ask
well that is when Earth and Mars are
in the most advantageous positions of orbit
but for me there is another key question
would I-
leave this beautiful place of Earth
for a unknown existence
on a planet rocky cold dry with volcanoes erupting
but oh
something about that hazy pink sky beckons
______________________________
June 22, 2015
Free Verse
For the contest, Subject Mars, sponsor, Joe Maverick
Third Place
Categories:
explorations, science, technology, visionary, planet,
Form:
Free verse
And God said let there be light
And butterflies appeared
Sensuous as a moon
On a fragranted night
With jasmines in her hair.
And God said in the beginning was the word
And the cataract thundered
In a kaleidoscope of white
Wings like water sundered
Dancing on the belly of a stream
Rolling on the breast of the sea.
And God said let there be love
And moon came naked through the curtain
And poet sighed
Willing but still uncertain
Where she will go when day has come
And passions are mute as a stickless drum.
Categories:
explorations, imaginationgod, god,
Form:
Free verse
Once in a blue moon, in the circuit of the cryptic sky appears the transcendental fusion,
when the acquiescence of the sky emerges to display two heavenly bodies most exotic phases of union.
On those, mesmerizing venerated nights, the new moon and the wolf moon in juxtaposition,
supercede the perceived notion of eclipses; when the earth's shadow devours the pearly moon, its unparalleled companion!
Contrary to the credence, they recline and mingle, into one in secret paranormal amalgamation!
At that spectacular moment, the blood of the luna oozes, turns scarlet,
and the venerated Full Moon turns into Blood Moon in unison:
when the earth's umbra covers the moon in its arms, passionately to hide pains of her bunion!
They have clandestine agreement, beyond the mortal comprehension to fathom their cabalistic union!
Although, once in a blue moon, even the cynical corporals,
turn fortunate to witness the epochal communion!
Deluded and hypnotised, they come out with their finite, shallow persuasions!
Even waning, the luna in all her immaculate purity, maneuvers the blue planet, her matchless companion
in various alluring phases, in exuberant magnificent manifestations!
Those rarest phases in rotation connotes their cryptic indulgences in culmination!
The momentum of the earth-moon collision forms curious rarefied condensation,
causes in its beloved's bosom, the tidal ridges, the ebb and flow, a unique phenomenon!
When the luna grows from New Moon to Waxing Crescent, whispering the earth to cast its beams for illumination
in diverse evolving phases from Crescent, First Quarter Waxing Gibbous, Full Moon, Waning Gibbous, Last Quarter, Waning Crescent to the New Moon,
both the celestial- bodies embrace each other
in variant robes of orientations!
Their hide and seek, merging enigma, provokes the lunatics for musing bardic explorations;
as once in a blue moon merges the peerless pens to extol,
the unfathomed metamorphosis of earth-luna's metaphysical communion!
All Rights Reserved © Silpika Kalita
Categories:
explorations, assonance, beautiful, beauty, blue,
Form:
Rhyme
I am....
An Ashanti warrior A Bantu dancer
I am a Yoruba royal clothed in my Asooke
Dancing Adowa and kpalogo to tunes from wulomei and masekela
I am proud Masai
Standing around manyattas,
Jumping to melodies from the olaranyani
Eunoto is here and today I dance in front my peers in transition into a senior warrior
Oh how sweet the African rhythms
Imprudently lifting and soul soothing
Sisala sebrew on Akan drums
Highlife explorations unending on opus 1.
I am an Ewe woman
From the lineage of Nerfetiti
And a great great ....grand daughter of Nandi
My Gèle will never fall off
My Dashiki will never fade out
I am a Fulani herdsman
Wandering the Sahel plains of Africa
Along with a fellow Malinke brother
Who speaks fluent igbo and today we revisit our roots in Nok
I’m from Gao
320 km east-southeast of Timbuktu.
A descendant of Sonni Ali ,
Reciting the epic of Sundiata with intertwining soothing kora melodies from Kandia Kouyate
Oh how dazzling the African landscape
And glorious it's Heritage
Such rekindling and Homeric folklores
And a boundless diverse cultures
I am the African dream
mother's only son my father’s only daughter
I'm the incantations of royal fetish and message behind the talking drum
I am the African noble
Free from identity torment
I know of my glorious past and my colourful future
My city will bleed no more
Never again will i be a wanderer
I know my culture
And my alluring language
Ah how powerful the African names
Araba Termytorphe and Ifedayo chant in unity
Diallo Sissoko and Achiaa bestow serenity
Mbali and Lamisi elegantly wore their kente
Tonight we dance to tunes from the kete
For Yaa Asantewaa never gave up the fight
So we lift our hearts with emancipated minds
To reach new heights ! O’ Nana Nyame,
May you forever guide us with your light .
Categories:
explorations, africa, beautiful, black love,
Form:
Free verse
Under the big boulders of rock in Zion is a kingdom of the Lost World. Treasures and mummified bodies are kept inside this kingdom. No one has ever attempted to enter the cursed gate of the Lost World because anybody who has done it, dies on the spot at the entrance gate of the cursed kingdom.
Who discovered it is still unknown. The question is, who guards the gate of the Lost World? Does the gate opens at a specific time of day?
Underneath the hot boulders in the mountains of Zion is a vast and long trails of the cursed world. The end where the kingdom stands was believed to be at the foot of one running falls facing another rivulet or waterfalls -- mysterious as it sounds. As always, the reality of any perceived kingdom is not on top of the land, but underneath the earth's crust.
Too many speculations and yet even the government will not spend too much time, money and effort in all explorations. There is no guarantee of safety and return of investment.
The Gate of the Lost World will only stay as a myth for a long time until stronger faults collide with each other to prove that reality is not a curse or myth.
I went to the said place in Arizona sometime ago, but I've never seen or felt any signs of mystery. Only dead echoes and hot winds.
Categories:
explorations, mystery, myth,
Form:
Prose
My thought-to-be existence
has caused lots of explorations
around the world; from Americas
to Africa; from Africa to Asia........trekking,
sailing, and flying to where "celestial" maps
and oral traditional stories take them to.
Today, people are still searching for me
in science and magic, sometimes the seekers
becoming insane.
It is believed that whoever takes a sip of me,
becomes immortal like gods!
What Am I?
Categories:
explorations, adventure, art, image, magic,
Form:
Free verse
Mars the fourth planet from the Sun and named after the God of War,
The first close-up was in 1996 and since then a flotilla of orbiters;
Fly-bys, landers, and rovers have been looking for existence of life,
Always, is there water on Mars and could humans exist there?
A continual chain of explorations, finding new discoveries like polar ice,
Drifting clouds in its atmosphere, seasonal patterns, and volcanoes,
The size of Arizona, canyons, prove of flooding, proof it is rocky and cold,
But what seems beautiful to me is the hazy pink sky above.
Is Mars habitable? The Curiosity Mars Science Laboratory Rover,
Is on a bold exploration of discovery of science for technology;
To find answers, did you know you could send a postcard from Mars?
The future holds promise with the launch in 2020 of a robot.
A robotic science rover seeking out life, all part of the Mars Exploration,
And why 2020 you ask? Well that is when the Earth and Mars;
Are in the most advantageous positions of orbit. Will they find life?
For me, even if they do, will I want to leave beautiful Earth?
Will I want to live on a cold rocky planet with volcanoes erupting,
With no forests or rivers and streams, no flowers or cities?
But perhaps in time we will have no option as the Earth is failing,
And there is something about that hazy pink sky that beckons.
___________________________
May 7, 2016
Poetry/Verse/Life - Perhaps
Copyright Protected, ID 16-787-509-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Categories:
explorations, life, planet, science,
Form:
Free verse
TWO KIDS REMEMBERING
There we were
Next to the railtracks in the middle of the industrial heartland of 1950s Tyneside
Martin and me
Summer’s day and no money and no place to go except the drab streets and projects
Just exploring carelessly
Among the factories, spoil heaps, rusty tracks, piles of old axles, oily ditchwater
And enjoying youth
All day we strolled, climbed, jumped, ignored the “no entry” signs, threw stones, felt hot
Until we wearied
And decided to go home with a big bunch of wild blooms for mum bcause we’d be late
And picked flowers
Marguerites from the oil-soaked patches with rusted steel-ingot enriching the soil
Dandelion, daisy, cornflower
From the sand-spoil heaps lining the railtracks for miles, dumped as future ship-ballast
Campion and forget-me-not
Hidden tiny among the broken crates half-emptied of reject rubber tyres
And with armfuls
We trudged our way back through the sterile concrete and tangled barbed-wire fences
We got home
And mum was waiting with dinner, and we washed and ate, and she loved the flowers
And that night
We all talked about our explorations, and the flower collection, and we were so tired
We slept soundly. . . . . . .
Mum kept the blooms in a bucket - or was it a basket? Kids don’t remember everything.
Memory is selective.
.............................................................................
Categories:
explorations, childhoodday, mum,
Form:
Verse
Although, being cautious during explorations,
forests generally host intrinsic jeopardy.
Killer leopards mutilate not only people, quickly.
Readily, saving them until voracity wants: Xena; Yaks; Zebras.
12/27/2016
Categories:
explorations, animal, dark, death, food,
Form:
ABC
A PLACE IN THE SUN
Through each disconcerting walk of life
Till all my explorations cease
All the vulnerability I’ve got culminate
I have lost the kiss of peace.
In a place next to the sun I gladly soar
Hoping to be near God, ending my inner war.
I loathed my ostentatious life
Yearning, in spite of all my fears
Land me safe in a place next to the sun
Where I can purify my eyes with fresh tears.
With every word said and every cruel thought
I atone to those who my cruel deeds had bought.
My heart has been completely crumpled
In vain my love with exertion broke free
Unvarnished truth should be my salvation
Seeking the lost emotions, to comfort Id.
In a place next to the sun I dream of going
Where all past transgressions shall be foregoing.
Categories:
explorations, emotions,
Form:
Quatrain
Steps ***
Remember standing barefoot
In a stream or lake or ocean as the current of water
ran cool and fast over the ankles?
That liquid, which made our planet
a home for life, beckoning us and so delightfully.
Think of walking in night, without
lights, becoming self-contained,
losing external references, seeking the moon
or some neighbor’s window, alight still...while
glancing quickly down to squint and know if
the next step will continue on the pavement.
There is good reason to remember
walking barefoot in cool, thick mud —
luscious scrunching the toes in
that earth’s batter!
There is meaning in the memory of
tortured stepping barefoot over a
length of dry, sun-burning sand...so
instantly blistering, so evil in its lack
of relief, at least until escaping its distance.
Think of the first challenging, trudging steps
in a knee-high snowfall...like the first steps
of turning to a belief in God and so much easier
with others, then reaching a route that has been plowed.
Think of journeys of the mind, walking
in times and on the streets we’ve never before been
or want to imagine a return to...lively, but yet
non-existent wanderings, much like those
we walk in sleeping dreams.
We cannot recall those very first
steps we took, thrusting us out of
babyhood, taken by a natural calling
when we are too young for any conscious intent,
having only an entirely physical desire to move...
over there...
set within a wordless desire to rise,
innately curious to discover!
Yesterday I watched baby Emmie scrambling
in her stroller. Within, she sensed there must be
some other way to subtract sitting, to move
through the room.... Compulsion gripped
her desire to rise, to step, even run...her legs
kicking non-stop ready to launch...
Only recently emerging from paralysis,
I can sympathize with Emmie’s chair-stuck
scrambling frustration. It is
the human wish to set off in motion,
off on explorations.
——————————————————————
(c) sally young Eslinger 5/10/21
Categories:
explorations, age, christian, courage, dream,
Form:
Prose Poetry
I was a soul born in chaos
my beginnings and consciousness infinitesimal
I have been blasted by forces
outside of my own natures call
and yet I can see the raw beginning
of a mind fluid
with the elements of the cosmos
this "life" has been an experience of
implosions , explosions , explorations
bombardment , impartment , eruption
corruption , inattention , and deliberations
my consciousness is aware of it's implications
my judgments categorize the experiences
such as a minute star is transformed
by the particles and forces
to which it is subjected
So too are we
but cosmological law
is annulled in it's full power
when in contact with chaos
I am fully cognizant of both
moral and cosmological law
I can jump off a cliff
or commit violence upon humans
I can actually pervert
the substance of cosmos where I reside
instead of planting , growing , harmonizing
refining my alignment with nature
I can poison , deform and subject
every participation to destruction
and as long as mankind's children
continue in the predator mentality
of their six thousand year experiments
of every violation of that which they should love
I am in total agreement with nature
that which is destructive to growth
needs removal , only with mankind
removal is "replacement" of ideology
a transformation of perspective and viewpoints
where the mind finds it desirable
to increase the beauty of LIFE
and not to poison it's fluid
the superlative and majestic cosmos
that our tinkering seeks to dissect
manipulate , rearrange it's manifestations
and in reflection this one thought
is of itself an infinitesimal insignificance
when standing before the face of LIFE
but it is my thought , my mind and
created by the most intensive force that
exists among mankind , LOVE of LIFE
HOPE in LIFE , and the seeking of every
manifestation of it's Glory
no man has seen God
but we at great length consider
all that we may perceive that to be ...
COPYRIGHT © 2015
C Michael Miller
PoetryofProvidence
Categories:
explorations, christian, creation, introspection, life,
Form:
Free verse
settlement without place;
time without wait;
the stillness of life
in the deep eruptious wild
with a world of thought
arranging on in rioted lights
that swim in the depths of her mouth
contented conceptions
splurging themselves round
and out of their bounds
in the filling of absence
willing to hand things over
my fascination found me
captured
and now somehow restored
motionless to motion
led the location of warmth
patient persistence
my explorations taking form;
to uncover the inflated vibrations
of resuming sense
in every second she talks
Categories:
explorations, appreciation, girl, love, nature,
Form: