Best Fantasizing Poems
~the Fear of Never~ A DRINK TO REMEMBER!
And the fire catches every time, my heart needs a sip
I bear no shame pouring, poisoned pabulum whisky down
Lost in a place with hungry whores, ink paying gigolos
This night a respected gentleman put's on his evening gown
He sits in front of a mic playing the same old sad song
Fitted out in drag, his wife has no clue
Holy breeders trying to change my shoes
Lingering from the Cute Chinaman, running his tab sky high
Bluebirds of jealousy, set round the vintage Barstool like fools
Minds overpowered and threaten to the very nub
I am drunk-- in his eye,
He receives a macabre confession of possessiveness
I am drunk-- in her eye,
She has a sick confession of subconsciousness
Broken loose from a negative, regressive state of mind
Sit and enjoy this broken bottle of champagne
Unspoken rage in every empty can left behind
A shot glass drops from my unstable hands longing to hold a pen
I look into a mirror and embrace every meaning of stability
Blotting out the madness behind a metal cage of reality
At times, I feel the need to bring down this masquerade
A drink so hostile, I can't even remember my image and name
Too many scars, from the foster of paper and pen
My dependents are drunken demons from a traumatized childhood
Tonight I will legislate a special thanks
Holding up my cup, until death finds my note
I will smile, at every Judge and Jury, during karaoke night
Shutting down my eyes, fantasizing everything's gonna be alright
I will not jilt knowing, writers block haunted my days away
Insecure hoarding monsters enjoying spoil forgotten words
Tonight I thirst like never before, my tongue inscribes around a tin cup
I am not eating up by it, no matter how long I've drowned in it
This is my kind of whisky, my thoughts, my days of ammo
To tell you the truth, I possess no desire to drink
It's all about the love of poetry and how sober, I become (WITHOUT)
The monsters that reside inside, have one thing to say
"Give me Poetry, or give me Death!"
by: PD
When I used to dream
I used to dream about him
Fantasizing about how it happened and how it could have been
Demons, chasing Nightmares, Happiness on Poles
Tied into a loveknot and dangled in front of me
No matter how I ran, how far, how fast
It seemed to sweetly Escape
Just when he was in my grasp
I tried it all
New haircuts
New styles
New boys
Sexy sexy skirts
With new pairs of heels
Filling holes with things that
Really don’t mean anything
Except to say
I’m doing just fine without you
Days go by,
Months slip away
Years appear on doorsteps like unwanted infantile
Infatuations
I beat my self up for loving
the way
He moved
Spoke, touched
Laughed, ached, cried
He could
Heal the burns on my fiery soul
He could handle
Dangerous curves
On roadways unknown
My first love
Today I no longer linger
On whispers in photographs
Or chain ball letters
I don’t chase after white sports cars
Or sink when I hear his name
I see him sometimes and I feel his stare
Sting me on the places it hits
I’m with my own
And his with his other
But just to let him know
It’s okay
I smile
and let go
Unraveling
This cord
of discord
Love is forever
No matter the occasion
I forgive, i forget
and let him live
Without me
I appreciate
His gift, wrapped with
detachment
For the benefit, of each other
He showed me with open eyes
That I did not need a man
For me
To love
Me
He gave
A bittersweet
Indescribable
Emotion. The Gift
Of Poetry.
Thank you…
There's a certain somebody out there
i'd rather not name......
showed a little interest , at playing a game ,
she's bold in her talent's ,
say's she'll put me to shame....
such big talk , from such a tiny frame....
smiling inside , being challenged by this dame
a fine lady , no doubt , but game is not lame
you're quite the find " BABY " , I'll give you your fame........
until then , i must warn you , this game won't be tame !!!!!
{ ciao bella }
Feasting on my splendor ravishing to your eyes
Greet me seductively, watch me bathe in sunrise,
Breathing me in, devouring scent of intimacy,
Caressing my breeze teasing you affectionately
Cuddling love’s essence in elysium of my affinity
Holding me in your trance of her magical allure
Enamoring doting senses of passions I conjure
Feeling her tender beats in fragility of my heart
Indulging softly in her fascination for romance
Tempting me longingly in glamor of her glance
As purple cheeks blush, titillating my ruby visage
Fantasizing silken lips inflaming euphoric kiss,
But, dare not pluck me young man, till I’m willing
Undressing sensuously, revealing inner beauty,
Unveiling my core, arousing petals of yearning~
Only then I will be ready, worthy of your promise,
When you present me to her, she’ll be beaming
For I am the rose of her dreams, elixir of ecstasy.
September 25, 2021
Placed 1st: “P” Contest, New or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Theme: Playful
A Nook And A Story Book Contest
Sponsor: Eve Roper
There was a day last week that I felt alone and sad,
I carried days of grief and would pray for sweet dreams,
I held onto a glimmer of hope when I had an idea,
to get lost in my favorite book outside on the porch swing.
Sensuality of a solitary soul with desires of social freedom,
pretty dear Edna lost inside a condemning creole heritage,
although she loved the Gulf of Mexico and New Orleans,
she had love affairs with charming men during her marriage.
Her appetite for passion wasn’t accepted in the nineteenth century,
she craved lustful intimacy when it was strictly forbidden,
Edna wanders around and finds herself within sexual promiscuity,
in a small town news travels fast, even if she wanted it hidden.
Once wedded to the rich Leonce who traveled far too often,
Edna yearned for the embrace of other appealing suitors,
fantasizing beyond all common sense of comprehension,
alas she was constantly damned by hypocritical persecutors.
Satisfactions and warm memories sooth her darkest nights,
she thinks of her affair with Robert as she closes her eyes,
so deeply did he love her, although she only craved his physique,
she wore erotic moments on her back for a disguise.
Because of her rejection of the roles as a wife and mother,
she was an outcast, a fading woman lost in fear and sorrow,
no more love and lust to quench her deep thirst,
she awakens…not wanting to face another tomorrow.
Drowning herself in the deep water of the Gulf of Mexico,
released her from her miserable anguish she called home,
no longer could another touch her the way she needed,
she ended up living her last moments in despair while alone.
This poem is about the book "The Awakening" by Kate Chopin
The original name was "Solitary Soul"
Date Written: April 28, 2016
My grandfather on my father’s side, was a pecker-toothed sidle who raped his
daughter when she was just ten. He threw down vodka from an eternal well and took my father out to buy prostitutes when he was just fifteen... It was here that my father first learned the true value of a woman. Mercifully, a permanent steel brace got loose at the Pennsylvania steel mill where he worked and crushed Grandfather into a pool of blood and urine.
My father was a dried seed rattling in an empty gourd… he had grown up
hardened with leather-stiff roots exposed too long in the sun. My mother knew
that he wanted to rape me, so I kept guard with knives and ran away whenever I could. I went to bed fantasizing how to sneak into his bedroom and kill him with
the kitchen carving knife.
My older brother hadn’t adjusted well to the chaos either, so he put all his expectations and dreams into a matchbook and burned down three houses in the neighborhood. He secretly, robbed his friends of their valuable coin collections. He grew weary and confessed and was taken to a local Mental Hospital for evaluation. At fourteen, I needed a good stiff drink! I was transferred to two different foster care homes and grew up like a weed.
My mother Dolly was an auburn haired porcelain bisque, matt finished doll from a
discriminating collections of dolls... her father's dolls. She was not a witty woman
but silent, afraid and alone. She gave birth to three children who grew up like
wild dogs while Dolly made Betty Crocker weekends and otherwise TV dinners
until she grew tired... very tired.
One day the brothers were playing with Dolly tossing her back and forth…
like a ball, one to another... until we dropped her. Fragile, she shattered into pieces
on the gray cement patio. My father came out determined to put the pieces back
together but clumsily, he repeatedly stepped on Dolly crushing the refined
fragments into powdered dust.
Love poems are not written by poets in love;
They are written by poets infatuated with the concept of love.
Poets write of their dreams;
Poets write with their imaginations;
Poets write of hope and fantasy.
Only poets who dream of love, write love poems;
Only poets who imagine ecstasy and passion, compose love sonnets;
Only poets who hope to love and fantasize about love’s allure, pen lyrics of love.
Poets who are in love write poems of butterflies, bubbling streams and blooming blossoms;
For, when you are in love, butterflies fluttering by fulfill your dreams;
Bubbling brooks of cool, effervescent water engage your imagination;
Fields of flowers in bloom with rainbow hues and fragrant bouquets are what you hope for and fantasize about.
Poets in love, live love and write about other wonders;
Poets dreaming of love; imagining love’s splendor; hoping and fantasizing about being paid a visit by Cupid’s arrow,
And, only those poets,
Write love poems.
**************************************************************************
Virgin love; beholding this gleam within her eyes; knowing how much she is desiired
Lying in bed at night, fantasizing; one step closer unto its joyful revealings moment...
Fingertips sliding lavenders silk to the side, again; deeply moaning aneath crystals
Euphorias pleasing arrival; the newness, and everything now seems so, beautiful ˜
Red and white lace in perfumed make-up; anticipations tossing about her hair
Flowing as the candlelight sways and the fireplace dances; pink champagne in ice
Frosted glasses with gentle music, painting a tomorrow; rose petals of fragrant
Colours waiting atop the table; sanguine hearts, amid chimeful bells they'll play...
**************************************************************************
..."Soft Silk Dreams" *
MERMAID'S FLIGHT: A Collaborative Sea Sonnet
Mermaid's Flight
Poseidon drew up from the salty sea,
a silver splash of wave from Earth to Moon.
Sailor appealing Neptune's pride of three,
gazed down fantasizing mermaid's kiss soon.
Great sea-storm surge may eternally faze,
sweet paradise in lonely sailor's dreams.
Then lifted is she from the coral maze,
held in riptides and pressed in boiling streams.
Then up he rides on his seahorse untamed,
and captures her mad from his winded ride.
From dark sea depth's hold, sweet mermaid unnamed,
in sailor's arms, Neptune can not abide.
He named the sprite and kissed her full and well,
from heaven's grasp he gained the star that fell.
By Robert J. Lindley & Edlynn Nau
© May 12, 2016
Note-- Has been a great pleasure to create this poem with my very talented friend,
Edlynn Nau..
Edlynn's ideas and creativity are a breath of fresh air to a tired old poet...
My sincere thanks my friend.....
SORRY FOR THE DELAY DUE TO MY MOTHERS ILLNESS AND MY TIME THUS SPENT.
Family first, I know you understand.. Thanks
I fight
tempestuous winds,
earth ablaze in feverish sky,
leaning flesh into fury
stem bends
giving
the tempest an offering –
petal by petal
I lose
my phantom limbs
and mark trails with tears
wisps of fragility beautify
blue skies tinged
heave and hurl
fantasizing of
light
my lily-white peace
what doesn’t kill me
feeds my soul
pours from my pen
my past's fury -
storms bluster
between mire and soiled sky
a wildflower's spirit
bends fearless
Written 3/1/17
*75 words total
She worked at a boozy ballroom, dancing for 10 cents a dance
Barely enough to eat and pay her rent in a rundown seedy hotel
So young, so alone raised by no one but herself
Oh, she had parents, but they didn’t see her, didn’t know or love her
She married the first guy who came along just to get away from home
But he abused her - used her, then left her all alone
Twenty two years old-
Alone, with two small children to care for
She needed someone…
Someone who would hold her - touch her tenderly with his heart
Someone to love her- love her children
Her brown eyes wishing, hoping - looking for love in stranger’s faces
Dancing for 10 cents a dance under shimmering ballroom lights
Swaying to and fro through dreamed filled hopes
With her closed eyes, she pretended as she danced
Fantasizing that he might be the one to save her- love her
When the music started she was in another world
Wishing he’d sweep her off her feet, take her away
So she could live like a lady and die like a flowering rose when her last petals fell
In the arms of one she imagines will be hers once and for all
To whisper velvet words of comfort as their feet grazed the floor
Under the melodic grace of the violins she pretended…
Hoping to find her hero, someone who’ll give her a chance
Just...for 10 cents a dance
ESCAPE INTO REALITY
Escapists---fantasizing about worthless things
Well trained in our worldly ways and feelings
Struggling to visualize our predestined callings
Escapists—fantasizing about worthless things
Reality-- disregarding Eternal majestic dwellings
Pursuing false perspectives and earthly inklings
Mistaking Believers as fake brainwashed beings
Reality—disregarding Eternal majestic dwellings
Just Visiting
While my visiting days are over,
I am left with another gift,
Fantasizing as a butterfly
Landing softly on a cruise ship.
I don’t drive down the Texas highways,
Where once bluebonnets thrilled,
Though in my mind I still see them,
Spreading on a hill.
A visit to my daughter is two-fold foiled,
For planes just cost too much money,
And she has steps from which I recoil,
But she flies to me, that honey.
Look I toward visits to a grocery store,
Fresh faces, bright colors and such,
I visit the world in my head these days,
In a chair, with a cane, and no not even a crutch.
****
Other Visits
Not to be morbid, but I visit old family friends,
Those gone to me now, always present in my heart,
In a quiet moment on the deck under rustling trees,
I can visit a face, two or three, make a party.
We can remember the silly things we did,
To soften the griefs or stress we all bore,
And when we were sharing parenthood,
Hoping the children would land safely on adulthood's shore.
We shop now and then on a day trip,
Stop in at some little bistro on the way,
A visit posthumously to my old friends,
Can pass a piece of the day.
The age of premonition and belief in false speculations…
A firm believer of the grace now devoted to inelegance…
All it stated was an untainted fib…
Darkened fiend now restive within…
Falling by the force of an ill-defined revelation…
Swimming through cadavers of lies…
Illusive delusions cast before my perception…
All hopes are sedated by my hands…
Sheer inanity I commit exhibiting my buoyant stance…
Imperceptible shadows ridicule a common jest…
And those divine shall affix to fantasizing…
…As the rest battle with a fettered fiend within…
Sightlessly chose to pursue the affectionate call…
Veracity being a neglected constituent…
Sedated hope – call of the day…
…As aspiration thaws endlessly to oblivion…
Hope tends to soar higher by the progress of the seconds…
Peak exists for all which tends to be limitless…
Crash the new-born hope which unites with obscurity…
A premature plummet is beneficial to the torn essence…
A moon once elegant now darkened by the malevolent night…
Haunted by the iniquity ever so fervent…
And I run towards that which proffers solace…
Hands of murder soaked in the blackest blood…
The despaired yearning silently for another sunrise…
Darkened soul haunted by notions of a dim collapse…
Equipped with a blade ever so assertive…
The green earth now stained with blood of the fallen…
And desires for that which lies in the other realm…
…Endlessly distant from the dream which was once breathing…
Attempting to never dream for the unattainable…
Sedated hope – call of the day…
Fantasizing whileas dreaming about her loveliness
Being a Vampiress coming unto my window by night
Feeling a bit erotic, at the sight of her beauty this morn
Ravens hair deep dark eyes purple shades, with aqua lips..
A candle amid hand answering the door as there she is
Alabaster myrrh black pearls rosebud natal fragrance
Silken flames my neck my breast my thighs her kiss.