Best Featureless Poems
If I could but feel!
I would feel the warmth
of the sun upon my old,
cold, featureless face....
If I could but touch,
I'd touch the grass I lay on
and revel in its texture like
a little happy king....
If I could but smell,
all the flowers of the world
would be mine: roses and
daisies and even orchids
would be endless delight....
If I could but hear,
then all nature would be
my own symphony--
the birds rejoicing,
the bees buzzing,
dogs barking, even
rolling thunder, all
a continuous music
to my soul....
If I could but see-- ah,
what would a stone see?
The ever breathing beauty
of a world of color and life?
Or would I see its slow and
merciless unraveling by that
other sentient being, burning
its forests and dumping what
cannot be dissolved in eons
into proud, awesome oceans?
But I would treasure my
newfound mind and seek
to thank the Being that
could make even a stone
see and feel and hear and
think and even, in time,
perhaps love....
O, how then I would pity those
born with eyes and ears yet
unable to see Life or hear God,
living their lives scurrying about
like blind, deaf and dumb rats
while the eternal Light bathes all.
[posted February, 2020]
Categories:
featureless, analogy, appreciation, beauty, god,
Form:
Free verse
Beneath the realm of Reality
Lies a secret- a world of fantasy
Feasting my eyes upon the faded stone
Delving into a vast world of the unknown
Whispers dance in the curling fog dancing amongst the dead trees
Murmurs of those who have long passed, float against the breeze
Passing the large tree, the gate surrounding the stoned castle
A slender inhabitant, dazzles my mind, his speech facile
Shall I trust this unknown creature, from this the unknown world
His arms, his...tendrils, curl...and around me swirled
My thoughts-he knows them-for he and I are entwined
Further into the dead woods I wonder, a sense of fear encompassing my mind
A bubbling stream I faintly hear, as further I go into the forest
The watery grave seeming to get closer, it's symphony-a chorus
Entranced I follow this fellow into the unknown
Closer and close to the stream i go, further away from the grey stone
Above the lines of fantasy
This, has become my reality
Dreaming-this land I return, once was I lost
But now here I am at home, everything quiet and soft
I search for you amongst the dead
And there, standing behind those gates is cloaked figure-hood on head
I wonder who this master of mystery is, but he soon disappears
A blink of my eye he is gone, and I have not seen him again in years
I search once more for you, my fiendish friend,
But soon I fear you have left me here-to come to my own end
I do not wish to wake, I do not wish to leave this place
Soon I come to spot your featureless face
The King of fright, so tender towards me
Showing me, when I lost my way so long ago, out misty dead trees
But I could not stay away, I wanted to see him again
And thus he promised to return to me again
That forest land I wish to see once more
But I have lost my way, trapped in a darkness forevermore
Kept away from what I so desperately yearn for
To return to that mysterious home I adore
Categories:
featureless, adventure, allegory, fear, me,
Form:
Ballad
INTO THE DISTANCE
a solitude
with
an abrupt
transition
depictions
in parallel
designed to
balance the
organic
profiled
losing oneself
to
the void
ever returning
simmering
on the surface
of the
featureless
sands
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
Categories:
featureless, poetry,
Form:
Other
"Her Mind is a Carnival of Picasso Harlequins"
Walking through the poetic frames of featureless ghosts
her fingers play like harps their ectoplasmic cages
strange symbols that clang the frivolity of vacuumed cleaned emptiness
dissolving in the invisible time wasted in the chronicles of their newfound empires
the meaning of their spectral presence swings
like canaries singing home all their honeys sweetly
it’s all bluebirds entertaining the wisdom of lovelorn owls watching on
like they are azure feathered blind mice adorned with halos,
while the carnal vultures smile winging it above them all in prayer circles predatory
“her tongue is an arena of silent conflicts”
her mind is a carnival of Picasso harlequins
balancing the trapeze, the affairs of a wild heart
scorched and stinging with fragments of cubist love collages
arriving like ashes within the flames of her phoenix stages;
some newly burnt Aphrodite.
elements closer to reality than the abstractions of geometry
CandideDiderot. ‘25
Categories:
featureless, muse, voice, woman, women,
Form:
Free verse
A predator's rapier claws;
keeps my cat in good health.
Midnight black, she blends with shadows
and stalks her prey with stealth.
Pouncing at nearly lightning speed,
she's a featureless blur.
And yet, when cuddled in my lap;
Death wears the softest fur.
Categories:
featureless, beauty, cat, imagery, metaphor,
Form:
Rhyme
As a vermillion Sun feigns its death,
daylight acquiesces to Night's might.
And with a propensity for red,
Sol colors clouds, cerise, and crimson.
Day dwindles as flashing fireflies set
twinkling lights flickering on the scene.
And an austere, featureless landscape
morphs into a field of pixie dust.
Nature imbues the Night with subtle
scents of honeysuckle and wild rose.
And a mix of exotic odors
of lesser-known, more infamous plants.
Contrary to popular belief,
stinging nettles bear scented flowers.
And as their fragrant blossoms open,
they release a pleasant aroma.
A gold filigree moon guilds the waves,
moonbeams dancing on rippled waters.
And dark silhouettes, like smudged shadows,
merge within Night's ebony embrace.
Categories:
featureless, beautiful, color, imagery, imagination,
Form:
Blank verse
We are like that dog chasing his own tail
trying to posses something of its own
something that is beyond us
never to be touched
only to be looked upon
Gods are laughing from us
we are their laughing stock
grotesque humanity at its best
inventing our life
while being shaped by it.
And right back, where we belong
Arrogance of our loner god
is our own self deception
Led by his own will
misguided in sleeplessness
we are dying on the way,
to be reborn in clarity of future lies,
lost and never to be loved,
shaped into the featureless
sunset of a sculpture
in a snowy sense of senility
where time is moving away from us
and we fall to stand.
You call it love
I call it master and slave morality
by Jaro T
Categories:
featureless, love,
Form:
Free verse
I feel the sweat of a race not run
and hold the clench of a stomach churned,
as I crumble and fall, using artifice to
fool this world of my consummate ease
This daily pulse has blood flow restricted,
like the sparrow evading the falcons dance.
And I, in the third person try so hard
to solicit speech from this frozen mouth
My time has come to stand upon this stage
and fill the pledge to tickets bought.
And to earn my daily crust, whilst hoping
the ink of fear does not write upon my face
And by the end of day to feel
like an egg dashed against a wall,
breaking into a thousand ruined nerves,
killing all the life within this rain - soaked
hesitant voice
To begin this all again tomorrow.
This troubled journey of wornboards
and featureless landscapes trapped by
a scream hidden in fog
Categories:
featureless, angst,
Form:
Free verse
The Zweiback Warrior
Zweiback cookies – teething biscuits
Yucky, gnawed upon, gummed delights
Xeric surface absorbing wanton drool
Wielded, by the toothless cherub, in
Valiant fencing stance encumbered by
Unsteady footwork of diapered distress.
Tongue licking the blunted sword tip
Short sticky fingers grasping the hilt
Reeling under the self’s relentless
Quest to free the imprisoned.
Pursed lips immune to all assaults,
Open gates of tormented demon
Nourished by the wailing
Moans of twice baked relief,
Lulled into the whimpering
Kingdom of the succulent biscotti.
Jaws clenched on mercy’s mushiness
Ingesting its flavored fluids,
Holding the healing wand
Gripping it tightly lest it be lost.
Featureless, the ravaged cookie, is
Eased from the grasp of the
Duelist sleeping hand.
Champion of the
Battle for
A tooth.
7/12/2015
submitted to – Abecedarian – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Shadow Hamilton
Categories:
featureless, children, humor, metaphor,
Form:
Abecedarian
They left their father's hearths, those stalwart pioneers,
To follow their dreams to the west seeking new frontiers.
They laded Conestoga wagons and without a backward glance,
With faith and fortitude, ventured into that vast expanse!
They gathered at Independence to form a wagon train,
Then, ferried the Mighty Mo to trek the featureless plain.
They followed the rutted Oregon Trail of those who'd gone before,
Never sensing the hazards and trials that were to be in store!
They were met with savages, mud, dust and howling gales,
Trudging westward, ever westward over endless hills and vales.
With visions of virgin homestead land they followed the sun.
They wouldn't be deterred from the migration they had begun!
"Prairie schooners" were crammed with goods and vital tools,
And were drawn by plodding oxen and cantankerous mules.
The caravan was under the command of a crusty wagon master.
Not to obey his ever bidding was sure to court disaster!
Alas, they left many desolate graves along the rutted track,
Victims of exhaustion, disease and fearful Indian attack.
They conquered interminable valleys and towering crests,
To fulfill their aspirations and complete their western quests!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Categories:
featureless, cowboy-western
Form:
Rhyme
Diseased incubator of mutated humanity
A festering cesspool of rotten ideals,
And ancient plots of religious restraint
Or the liberation from.
Acidic with greed and selfishness.
Base and seductive, the nature of societal allure
Indulgence, self-satisfaction and gross misconduct
Or just inaction is even worse.
At least those atrocious individuals have a spine.
They have picked a side.
Bought into all we are suppose to.
Grow up believing and hoping to become a productive member of.
The death machine they are rivets on a gear.
They may not be hero's or martyrs but they know their place.
You on the other hand remain complacently paralyzed in fear.
Can not recognize bondage for what it is , what it makes you.
A spineless disgrace. A causeless activist with no identity.
A blank slate, a featureless face.
Categories:
featureless, analogy, future, imagery, judgement,
Form:
At the break of Dawn, She poses in place;
a rising sun tints ivory clouds pink.
And my artistic hand begins to race;
sketching her beauty with charcoal and ink.
Ebony outlines mesmerizing eyes;
as if She stepped from a fantasy dream.
And as cotton-candy clouds tint the skies;
golden shafts of light make her aura gleam.
Though her face is featureless as white smoke,
silk ribbons adorn this porcelain doll.
And imbuing elegance with each stroke,
my muse is inspired to capture it all.
My Japanese Geisha touts perfection;
nothing about her invites correction.
Categories:
featureless, art, beautiful, color, imagery,
Form:
Sonnet
The grand, half-ruined Parthenon,
once a sublime, Doric grace,
Even now, in broken, stone blocks,
always takes my breath away.
The rich, classical detail,
fluted columns without plinths,
to imagine what it once was,
the mind can’t even begin…
That towering Coliseum,
the great masterpiece of Rome,
even half gone it’s staggering,
to be so tall, but made in stone.
Go down to the domed Pantheon,
still so perfect to this day,
these are not just random buildings,
they stand with something to say.
And those long, Gothic cathedrals,
so ornate and yet so light,
stained glass alone is enough
to make these churches a sight!
But all of that fine tracery,
those magnificent cravings,
the rows of flying buttresses,
inspire the soul to sing.
The Byzantines and their tiles,
Tudor masonry and wood,
Romanesque with its arches,
Art Decco looks oh-so-good,
Baroque with all its fussiness,
Victorians with their quirks,
Renaissance sports Italian flare,
Palladian’s subtle pleasures…
And yet in Albany, New York,
there stands the featureless ‘egg,’
That’s its name and its resemblance,
I am not pulling your leg.
No decoration, no windows,
as it stands there in the sun,
people call it ‘modernist,’
I call it ‘concrete abortion.’
Worse is the post-modern trash,
theaters shaped like hunks of cheese,
painted pink, spattered with portholes,
a mad-man’s monstrosity.
That is the product of our skills?
That is how we would inspire?
By building things that look like they
have been melted in a fire?!
They bulldoze down our heritage
to throw up more of these things?
And the big-wigs who approved this,
what the hell are you thinking?!
If these buildings of the future
are to have no beauty or class,
then you can keep ‘modernity,’
I’ll gladly live in the past.
Categories:
featureless, appreciation, art, city, creation,
Form:
Rhyme
Stories dared not whispered, legend of great thinker.
Artificially created Atlantis, maze search for law-giver.
Hushed lips speak no evil, silly little monkey cliche.
Privy ancient knowledge, not clear as light and day.
So-called peace-loving demigods, closely followed in trace.
Sexually crazed fools, copying angels fallen from grace.
Pillars of Hercules within island, dynasty king frenzy awoke.
Powerful and remarkable, ready to enslave at single stroke.
Originally thought to be noble, conspicuous reveal greed.
In route to world domination, struck down by Specialbreed.
Later time earthquakes and floods, extraordinary violence.
Single dreadful day and night, massive lost of innocence.
Intervening super mighty one, so-called wrathful Zeus.
Manipulation of elements, water and lightning bolts let loose.
Grand golden wall palace, swept aside sea and sunk below.
Ironical measured payment, for employment of ruthless blow.
Swiming through labyrinth of wisdom, vie of the celest'.
Chancing risk of schism, mighty sequential vignette.
Perplexed pattern in hide, bloody seal of truth.
Illuminati repelled, for a time real minoot.
Message of twisted tongue, langual contrivance.
Masters' visions swoon, in journey through euphoric trance.
Loud whisper switch, silence left in wake.
Souls of denizens burned, in fiery scourching shake.
Prominent eclectic short order, alien wishbone act.
Convert of non-belief, fierce zealots' minds impact.
Lucid broken water reflection, visible-eye agleam.
Blind finding quarry, standing like obelisk beam.
Instinctive overriding, a slip into lucidity.
Telepathic mind connection, recede to infinity.
Exponential theory, base of schematics.
Common like maybe, superpower military tactics.
Voice of bleeding knowledge, fade to obscurity.
Mystic in strange land, fault found in masters of intricacy.
Undecipherable rhetoric, great monster on chase.
Featureless darkness, a threat to human race!
Categories:
featureless, faith, history, imagination, mystery,
Form:
Lyric
As your wish of Persephone’s homecoming
We prepare minimal harvests from upheaval
Lost cause is the aid from ill-advised panic,
This casts doubt on her uncertain retrieval.
Demeter! Eyes of own appreciate our harvest,
These distant fields furrow with guided fracture
Stippled under greenery from a veil’s blockade
Virtues the gauge in which patience decides,
Miniscule the remnants with featureless serenity.
(Demeter)
When serenity further ventures availing hope?
Reminiscing confines a good past as undone!
Full quota the hearsay rumours have it false,
Alas, it is not! Had I reined her close, it might.
What patience has to honour, bereavement has none
Add Persephone’s quandary to the spectroscope,
Your purpose replies with a synopsis of course
Where underworlds design a stark reality to some.
(Views the harvest)
A penchant of well being in spite of mixed moods
Decides the mood, which in turn designs the season
Therefore, devise draining soils to your advantage-
Bale the thrusts of bittersweet as my tears became
Blocked in by sentinels’ the adornment of brilliance
Contrast with vivid twilight a beguiled revelation,
As wheat-sheafs’ bide an arc from golden chariots
Through displays, the haze of genial zephyrs brisk-
Mysteries surmise a whereabouts to quantum leaps
Exhibit confinement of spring to an autumn equinox,
And as therapeutics go, bereavement takes the risk.
~ ~
AD
(Mortals) Who are building nations.
Treasure the divinity of Demeter to all nations-
Answering to each nobility, her problem solving
Storing strength, our harvest elations;
Peace in our time, whilst mood swings evolving
Bond the religious bridge for neighbourly suffice
So we ourselves can understand those lands,
Whose barren terra firma distinguish the entice
Those future developments where trust expands,
More as an understanding, than self-sacrifice.
Categories:
featureless, adventure, history, life, autumn,
Form:
Epic