Best Faintest Poems
Hello there, do please come inside- no need to wipe your feet
excuse the mess, I fear you'll find it isn't very neat.
This place is always untidy, victim of my disorder
from old hang-ups to memories, I'll admit I am a hoarder.
In here hanging like mobiles, noisy, at odds with my feelings
are life's little distractions, niggling, swinging from the ceiling.
Careful with your torch, don't shine it underneath the bed
beneath it there is lurking a dark sprouting creeping dread.
Most people couldn't live with it, a disturbing thing to some,
as it cowers in the corner from the things still yet to come.
Tread lightly in the corridor, just mind out where you walk
you'll trip on my anxiety that bobs up like a cork.
The fire is stoked, the hearth is swept and logs stacked in a heap
my warmth to all well tended (well, except when I'm asleep).
Cardboard tubes in disarray, and more you cannot see-
plans I drew up in the past, none ever meant to be.
Mannequin in veil of black, arms raised as if to dance
with all my past relationships that never stood a chance.
This rocking chair, my temper, that sometimes I must sit in
and you'll notice that the varnish of my patience has worn thin.
My sense of humour's in the loft, protected by my hats
seemed like the right place for it, since my friends all think I'm bats.
That one small window by the beam lets my faith's light shine in
I'm sorry it's not brighter, window dirty from past sin.
Still, I can climb and open it to aim my telescope
for somewhere in the darkness lies the faintest glimpse of hope
that keeps me living here in peace and shelters me from sad;
you wonder why I live in here? Well, out there-
its just mad!
September16th 2015
For contest 'Inside my head'- sponsor John Lawless
Come, watch with me my darling child, before you go to bed
Here, hold my hand, while evening comes and takes the day away
Evening shadows tiptoe to what the sun has said
And now it's time to listen to what the moon will say
Here, hold my hand, while evening comes and takes the day away
We'll watch the sun dip gently, in the cooling twilight air
And now it's time to listen to what the moon will say
All the daytime weary creatures, have gone to nest and lair
We'll watch the sun dip gently in the cooling twilight air
Let's be witness to the fire that burns in evening's sky
All the daytime weary creatures, have gone to nest and lair
While twilight paints it's crimson colors on a canvas vast and wide
Let's be witness to the fire that burns in evening's sky
Time suspends as if one moment, in this fragile hush of time
While twilight paints it's crimson colors on a canvas vast and wide
And then we'll see the faintest trace of stars begin to climb
Time suspends as if one moment, in this fragile hush of time
So gently, watch the dark erase the last of fading light
And then we'll see the faintest trace of stars begin to climb
Enclosing us within the change, of shadows of the night
So gently, watch the dark erase the last of fading light
Evening shadows tiptoe to what the sun has said
Enclosing us within the change, of shadows of the night
Come, watch with me my darling child, before you go to bed...
____________
6//26/13
It's so dark outside, my eyes can't distinguish where sand meets water. Somehow, dusk has come and gone, plunging the evening into darkness.
But even as my eyes yield to this opaque absence of light, my other senses heighten. I can hear the crash of waves as they abuse the shoreline, sending foaming water up the beach in icy streams. I'm lulled by the sound of polished pebbles colliding like marbles as they recede with the waves. I can feel the sea's cool mist against my face, taste its salt on my lips. The scent of seaweed drifts on the breeze in gentle wafts - and then, slowly, the faintest whiff of smoke.
I glance over my shoulder, where a tiny dot of light penetrates the darkness. It's a beacon on this cool night, and I walk slowly toward it, digging my toes into the soft sand with each step.
dim moonlight
peeks through thinning clouds--
fire crackles
He's still there, stoking the fire, feeding the flames until the heat is tangible. The air wavers between us like a veil - a line I want to cross. He stirs up clouds of smoke, stirring feelings within me as I watch his busy hands. I wait patiently for him to notice my approach, and when he does, my breath catches.
rainbow flames
burst from seasoned maple--
blue eyes sparkle
I watch golden light flicker across his skin, softening the lines of his face. He abandons his task, moving around the fire until he stands before me, smiling as if he knows my heart is thundering in my chest.
He waits for a painstaking moment to pass. Then he kisses me with toasted marshmallow lips, pulling me down into his lap to watch the sparks rise like fireflies into the breathless night.
~
The fog, it clings the heavens low,
a damp and murky sight
Where creaking branch and fears bestow,
this chilly autumn night
The path it winds, a serpentine,
a' slither 'long the way
As shadows dance a drastic scene,
in silhouette array
My heart now beats a rapid pace,
cold shivers grip my spine
Escaping breath, no steps to trace,
don't even know what's mine
A rustle neath the thicket dense,
it scurries past my feet
I stop and turn, in my defense,
now praying for retreat
Oh why, I wonder, have I strode,
this eerie, ghostly way
A shortcut to my own abode,
I’ve traveled on by day
When then above, the faintest glow,
appears behind the mist,
The moon, now full, begins to show,
“Not now,” my screams insist
My skin it rips, expanding burn,
I howl through sharpened teeth
Long scraggy hair, a hungry yearn,
my soul of no relief
With eyes, now such a larger size,
much easier to see
And ears so huge, it's no surprise,
I'm hearing perfectly
On fours, I crawl, through forest thick
when then, a blanket thrown
A trap, I yell, a dirty trick,
come out, I say, be shown
A granny's quilt, that's how it feels,
so heavy, woven tight
It's thick with dust, it now reveals
that something isn't right
I toss the cover from my head,
a ripping, tearing, scream
Its then I tumble out of bed,
my word, it’s just a dream
Well, that’ll teach me, teach me good,
this thought I’ll have to keep,
Do not read, “Little Red Riding Hood”
before I go to sleep
Written for: Scary Stories Cash Prize Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Crystol Woods
You made me love yellow flowers
in the middle of July,
when everything was dying
because the ground was so dry.
You offered them to me
with the faintest smile on your face,
caressed the lemon petals
as you put them on display.
I looked at them quizzically,
questioning there presence.
You embraced me with laughter,
said they’re my essence.
You told me a short story
of blossoms and blooms,
and strength and survival,
in the midst of gloom.
And I fell in love with yellow flowers
because of the story you shared,
and I cherished their sunshine,
and the meaning they bared.
And then they were gone.
Along with you
and your stories and smile.
No laughter or embrace.
No petals or blooms,
sunshine or lemons.
The ground was dry
and cracked
and barren.
And I was alone,
with just a fading scent
and drifting memories.
You made me love yellow flowers,
then you took them away.
copyright 2017 rapsedeblu/'raps?de blü
Just a writer who needs to write.
THE BARE INFINITIVE
Look: up above the stratosphere
Outside the earth's blanket veneer
Beyond planets stars and galaxy
Past even faintest nebulae
Far from the pull of gravity
Free of Dark Matter's hidden vector
In existential cavity
Untied to any spacial sector
All human weakness risen above
In solo freedom primitive
Beyond the bonds of hate or love
There sits the Bare Infinitive
No cares nor problems, fears nor pains
But there's one question that remains
From Liberty, took a blessed kiss?
Or to false seductive promise succumb
Is he in sublime unfettered bliss?
Or formless, endless tedium
COROLLARY - The Meaning of Life
So perforce the very asking of the question
May reveal the answer to that greater plea
Why suffer slings and arrows, pains, anguish, oppression
When we might, by NOT opposing, be set free
The gloomy prince omitted consequence unsaid
In agonising on the walls of Elsinore
Endless nothingness holds nought for us but dread
Perchance to dream preferred to void; that we abhor
Thus life’s meaning may be: to be within a life
Then if we also have a purpose vied with strife
Result: interest, time, curiosity, interaction and aim
Or the elements of what we call: A Game.
Lest you think this demeans Creation to mere caprice
Then observe to be the player, not the piece.
24 May 2019
We start at the end, with the warmth of his breath on her skin
Baulked by proximity, he never knew how to begin
A golden-tainted obsession, bitterly laced with lead
Transformed rapture to quicksilver the instant Cupid fled
A moment held, made static, tender touch met with distress
For seeded in her veins, lies a stem of the wilderness
Pursuit stalled just in time, yet time itself recalibrates
Supplanted upon breaking, a laurel shoot germinates
Oh, what should have been the faintest touch cannot be undone
Rooted in the throes of escape, bound to bask in full sun
Sinews harden to fibre, each pulse springs a bonsai tree
Bark chokes her voice box; silent screams nest in the canopy
Locked in abjection, as her praying hands first plead then splay
As liberty, though not consciousness, is taken away
Overruled in evergreen, contortion as regal crown
Petrified white marble shall become her eternal gown
In Ovid’s Metamorphoses, the god Apollo mocks Cupid for wielding a bow, claiming it unworthy of a child. In retaliation, Cupid shoots Apollo with a golden arrow to ignite love, and Daphne a chaste nymph with a leaden one to incite revulsion. Though innocent, Daphne becomes the target of Apollo’s relentless pursuit. Just as he is about to seize her, she prays for escape, and her body is transformed into a laurel tree. Bernini’s stunning sculpture captures the precise moment of this metamorphosis
~
Whispering apricot beams shine upon frilly sheers,
lazy shadows dance in daffodil dawn colors,
pirouettes of pleasured moments,
silently flowing on smooth brush stroke walls
You breathe, softly, the sweetest sonnet,
rhythmically exhaling beneath satin sheets
symphonic…bringing a grin to the sunrise,
blushing clouds hide behind a bashful horizon
Placing a gentle kiss upon rose petal shoulders,
you stir ever so slightly…eyes flutter like chiffon wings
hugging the pillow wistfully, floating within,
cascading between dreams of us
Exploring the mesmerizing curves of your body,
my lips touch warm porcelain skin,
the faintest sigh escapes, a smile appears
as your wispy fingers seek my own
Probing gentle folds, serene recesses of silken slivers
sipping the morn’s perfect elixir, ambrosia,
seeing your eyes wide open now
and falling once more deeply into their hypnotic beauty
Hands fondle my hair, wavy lengths, grasping
tickling heated embraces, melting into the warmth,
maple syrup cravings, sweetened stickiness in
pleasure flavored temptations
Sunshine illumines the room with sparkled effervescence,
writhing deep into the blue sky destinations,
azure visions of springtime promises kept
and green grass wanderings
I rise with you, fall with you…with this perfect time,
mirroring movements in reflective crescendos, rapidly,
as your voice sings my name, feathered pillow melodies,
an ending ovation in hummingbird inspired quivers
And you collapse, tethered breaths, tiny giggles
pulling the sheets tight to your chin playfully
I peer up, cinnamon eyes gleam, twinkle,
rejoicing as brand new day begins…in love
~
It is an unusually cold morning here so
I thought I would repost this and warm
the place up a little. : )
I feel your spirit in the trees
As your blessed birds
Surround me with their song.
That first warm sip
Of morning tea,
My closed eyes,
deep long breaths
As I meditate and
I sense your divineness in me.
I feel your breath upon my cheek
In a caressing breeze
That wanders by,
That faintest floral scent
That lingers in the air
Lets me know
You are everywhere.
I feel one with the rising sun
As twilight skies
Gently morph from lavender to blue,
And your fingers of light behind
Silver clouds subtlety filters through.
I am thrilled to spend
Another glorious day with you.
rev. June 11, 2016
Cinderella Bites Back
Joanna Davis
Once upon a story; in a fairy tail.
Lived a shy and lonely girl,
Who's friends were Mop and Pail.
She was really quite a clever girl,
But suffered hate and spite.
Until an invitation came,
And she wished with all her might!
‘if only I could go to the ball,’
She cried, when no one was around.
Then out of a tiny hole,
She heard the faintest sound.
'Of course, you can go to the ball,
What makes you think you can't?'
'Just because that witch said no,
Doesn’t mean you shan’t!'
'But my dress is in rags,
My feet dirty and bare.
There's nothing in my closet,
That I could really wear'.
‘Don't worry’, said the little mouse,
For I know just the thing.
By the time I've finished,
You’ll have a wedding ring.
'Oh no’, said Cinderella,
That's not what I had in mind.
I was rather hoping for a career;
A chance to serve mankind.
The mouse thought for a moment,
Sized up her situation.
'It’s not a wardrobe you need,
It’s an education'!
So when you read this story,
Or listen to this tale.
About a sad and lonely girl,
with a mop and pail.
Remember, that the dream you wish,
Or star, you hope to find.
Has always been there with you,
Tucked safely in your mind!
She came out of the sea at twilight
Weak and trembling, bent with age
Her hair entwined with seaweed
The pounding surf a watery stage. .
She stood awhile and listened
then with the most frightful groan
Beaconed with a bony finger
To her minions in the foam..
Out of the waves they scrambled
Creatures from the dark and deep
Unleashed this one dark night
From their prison did they creep..
The danced the Funky Monkey
while the stars shown overhead
With abandon celebrated freedom
From their dark and watery bed...
So had the sun and stars aligned
Just this once in untold years
To break the spell they suffered
And dry their unending tears..
And with the light of faintest dawn
They turned from their heavenly shore
All crept back into the thrashing sea
And their likes were seen no more
Co-written with my grandson Jordan..9 yrs old
The consumate sleuth Sherlock Holmes
Hardly lacking the wit chromosomes
With the faintest of clues
To bemuse and confuse
Cracked crimes in the Welsh catacombs
AP: Honorable Mention 2023
Submitted on January 27, 2019 for contest LIMERICK 3 sponsored by JOSEPH MAY - RANKED 2ND
The clouds scudded across
A windswept sky
It was deepest night
As I watched magic pass by
The moon had risen
There it hung in soft silver
Scattering beams of light
Upon the waters, bright
Its' pale reflection on water
As I watched magic pass by
If I could catch the moonlight
I would cast it upon midnight waters
Beneath a windswept sky
Upon the waters' moon
I saw beams of light
I could not tell if it was
Starlight or moonlight
All I saw was the faintest ripple
Upon the waters' moon
In deepest night
Dripping emotions end
When dripping emotions end up in stare,
all churned up humour, fuming breaths of flair,
Subtle shreds of heart foresee no mend,
a waning smile these tender pieces pretend,
Shuddered by endless tides of strife,
evanesced the faintest melody of my life,
Plethora of thoughts and broken threads,
rests tranquil the soul, at deepest beds,
Expressions of ache, in vivid colours carved,
no twinkle in eyes, my looks are scarred.
Written Sept 15th, 2016
For contest "All the little pieces"
Sponsor- Broken wings
Entered for "Contest 203 any form max 14 lines" by Brian Strand
so lovely , yet wearied and worried,
as she looks away with quiet terror
from the sight of the faintest wrinkles
at the corners of her eyes in the mirror;
he finds it silly, this undue anxiety,
as she mumbles about crow's feet
that on her face she dreads to see,
reflection she is uneager to meet;
he assures her they are but laugh lines,
the true traces of real joys, happy times,
just skin-deep hints of deep-seated bliss,
amused, touched she is by this view of his.