Best Festal Poems
The Nectars of Love
Let your love fall, that I may wallow
Let your tears drip of inner essence
Entranced by the nectar I swallow
As I engulf and taste your presence
***
Let your beating heart keep company
The emptiness that entraps my being
I’m a string vibrating in your symphony
Forever echoing festal forever freeing
***
Intoxicated by your juices made wine
For the gods pour down their nectar
Indulging in grapes of the orchid vine
Seducing our souls a haunting specter
***
The nectars of your love are ingested
And the fluids of my heart arrested.
Sept.05.2018
OK TOSS ANOTHER ONE IN
Sponsored by: John lawless
Her name was Anarkali,
an eloquent carnival of legendary beauty.
a dancer in the court of Emperor Akbar.
Deep russet rouge blushed her red,
a silky smile on her rosy peach cheeks
rich, sensual and seductive...
With the sweet scent of jasmine, and
festal moonlight of crystal starred sky,
the damsel danced her way to Salim's heart.
A charmed Prince reverberated in her dreams
in rhythm of a daisy swaying in his breeze.
Entranced in her emollient ecstasy
Captured in the cage of her beautiful eyes.
Love blossomed like a dazzling wildfire.
But a sinister callous world, was eager to kill.
Passion handcuffed by shackled royal ego,
Anarkali was sentenced to be entombed alive.
Behind a wall of stones and prison bars,
Blood still throbbed her myriad unseen scars.
As vibrant colors of a sunset blurred,
An enslaved moth danced to flames of death.
As chimes of Ghungroo* muffled in mutenes,
An enslaved soul emancipated in darkness.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Anarkali in Urdu means Pomegranate blossoms
*Ghungroo is an ornament of bells worn as anklets by dancers.
The love story of Prince Salim ( Mughal Emperor Jahangir) and Anarkali is legendary.
Anarkali, also known as Nadira Begum, was a courtesan from Lahore in modern-day Pakistan. According to one of the stories, Anarkali had a relationship with the Crown Prince Jahangir and the Mughal Emperor Akbar had her enclosed in a wall where she died.
4th July 2019
Sponsor John Hamilton
Contest Name : Slave to love
Sweetness pours out across her aching lips
a dripping delight under candied apple eyes
motionless with the mulberry tree in wonderment
as the dainty honey bee dances with delight
Closed eyes and daytime wishes overcome
shy visions slipping out of shadow's view
hushed breaths drawn a dewdrop melody
heartbeats begging for a tiny sip of you
Shifting emotions impossible to hold abreast
a festal procession leading forth proposition
slowly inhaling simple beauty left in pause
light breaks her attention and a smile dawns
^she_
^she_ had a love/hate relationship with food
she only fed with her eyes,
i was a sparkless firecracker
and spoke English like i hated it.
not the least bit compatible
in any department
at any hour on any menu
she wouldn't even drink the water.
I would slip through the cracks
should she stop staring at me
up and down her beautiful 'it is'
she lit an incense and i was ignited.
i offered up an apple
a yellow delicious manifested
i peeled it for her
but she wouldn't taste it.
i laid eyes on her lips
kissed with dark secrets
an awakening of insects
with equal day and night.
She ate me with her eyes
clear, bright, ripe
it rained on the fruit
and i took a bite.
I spoke to the grain in her ear
i had so much to say
succulent was my speech
She took it all in.
potash, stolen, honey and rye
sup the festal dish don't cry
she had parted the thin line
between a want and it's fill.
I lapsed into that petri-dish
pierced by her green staring
Her warm glassy ogling
all up and down my countenance.
Nourished of palate perception
She relished on her diet.
I indulged as her entrée
feasting her with my gaze.
It would take a while
like a gala supper without wine.
^she_ would have no seconds
no weakness for flavor of the same.
well fed and fed up
she checked me out
her unusual hunger
gave me best regards
No repeats nor duplicates since
such foodstuff is most uncommon
Her daily bread was nurtured
with the edibles of my mind.
The End.
Such is love that the soft setting sun,
Hibernates within my humble heart…
Where the skies are filled with palettes,
Of amour and tears of liquid love…
My soul surrenders to the biradial beauty,
Of the voguish voyeuristical view…
As the wandering waves wake my,
Sapphire smile that sails with the wind…
The warmth of day caresses my festal face,
While the cumulus clouds comfortably calm…
Sunsets spewing as they resonate thru eternity,
For I await the Sun before the dulcet dawn…
While sitting on a mossy mountain under scarlet skies.
May.09.2019
Winged Warrior...^WW^
Not for any contest...
just welcoming the sun
Music video...Oleg Byonic-
'Light Up The Sky'
Voice...Female virtual voice
Slightly enhanced by
Winged Warrior
Such is love that the soft setting sun,
Hibernates within my humble heart…
Where the skies are filled with palettes,
Of amour and tears of liquid love…
My soul surrenders to the biradial beauty,
Of the voguish voyeuristical view…
As the wandering waves wake my,
Sapphire smile that sails with the wind…
The warmth of day caresses my festal face,
While the cumulus clouds comfortably calm…
Sunsets spewing as they resonate thru eternity,
For I await the Sun before the dulcet dawn…
While sitting on a mossy mountain under scarlet skies.
Original Post...May.09.2019
Not for any contest
Reposted for Julia Wards
Favorite Poem from May 2019
June.27.2019
N/A for Contest
Placed 2'nd with
NA rerun-2
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Thank You
Music video...Oleg Byonic-
'Light Up The Sky'
Voice...Female virtual voice
Bathing in the Nectars of Love
Let your love fall now that I may wallow
Let the tears drip of your inner essence
Entranced by the nectar that I swallow
As I may engulf and taste your presence
Let your beating heart keep me company
The emptiness that entraps my being
A string vibrating in your symphony
Forever echoing festal freeing
Intoxicated by your juices wine
For the gods of love pour down their nectar
Indulging in grapes of the orchard vine
Seducing our souls a haunting specter
The nectars of your love are ingested
Thus the fluids of my heart arrested.
Dec.15.2018
Super Sonnet
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
N/A for contest
Written: July 30, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
************
The carnival dazzles—
mirific mosaics of midway magic
woven with whimsical calls from barkers
who strut boldly on boards
slick with popcorn oil and neon promises.
I, the aficionado of the absurd,
immerse myself in spectacle masquerading as
celebration,
a Falstaffian extravaganza,
a sockdolager of strobe-lit sensation,
where circus rages as horology gone amok—
clockwork chaos camouflaged as joy.
Here, even dyspnea dances:
lungs tight from laughter,
feet blistered on the boards
where the locals jive
to tunes sung in xenoglossia tones—
languages lost or learned
in the jamboree of jest.
We picnic beneath paper moons
and eat Easter-colored candy
as if Lent were long forgotten—
in this nefarious fair,
Time adumbrates indulgence.
I stumble past scantling booths
where prizes lean akin to broken teeth
and prayers cast unanswered
in the apiary buzz of sugar-rushed view.
One iconoclast offers nepenthe in a cup
with carbonation and broken fortunes—
And in that moment,
an epiphany unfolds as a palimpsest,
laughter scrawled over ancient pain,
glee grafted onto grief.
There is no paucity of pain here,
only its parody—
a meritorious mimicry
for those who can bear the weight
and yet select the lighter path.
A temporary guest of the night,
I own nothing,
but borrow every flicker of joy—
every flick of flame from the festival's fire,
every tune from the gala laughter.
Even illeism fades in festal light,
where I am not the observer,
but the observed,
not just the poet,
but the poem itself,
drawn toward this lodestone of longing.
And at last, beneath Ferris wheel stars,
I whisper into the abyss—
a cognate cry to the cosmos
_The feast is fleeting
but oh, how glorious
the festival finished?
Never will another season bring so much joy
A feeling of love, togetherness and happiness
Ring out them festal bells and let’s be jolly
A savior was born, condescended, we are happy
We go to church, offer praise most joyful
Screams of delight, Children playing happily
Lovers holding hands gazing happily
At the beautiful sites, mountain's peaks, rivers of joy
Birds singing sweetly in the air, their songs so melodious and joyful
Every home, through their windows flowing sounds of rapture and happiness
The drunk on the street had one wish to make him happy
Give me some rum, he said, that will make me good and jolly
I played this song last night and it is so fitting, for the topic says Joyful, Joyful
It’s the season of good cheer, a time to give, to dance, to eat and be jolly
Only you can determine your level of happiness
To give of your means it is easy, but to give of yourself many cannot do this happily
Give without grudge, with no intention to receive, that's how giving becomes a joy
To exercise these gems will cleanse the soul; give warm feelings, make us happy
Laughter in the trees, laughter in the breeze, season of laughter, everyone is happy
Gift for baby, gift for mommy, gift for daddy, even the cats and dogs had to be joyful
What the world craves, so elusive for some, thank God in His love, we find great joy
Come one come all let’s jump on the bandwaggon, riding the coach called Super Jolly
The invitation is out, don’t settle in doubt, cast off your cares, ride with us, happily
Great people great love, warmth, sharing caring, all things good gives you happiness
Take friends, co-workers and fellow poets, toss in this great soup pot of happiness
Recycle love, make this world wonderful, song writer says, ‘don’t worry, be happy’
The world needs people who are positive, will see the best in others happily
A smile, a word of cheer, a few words of encouragement, make another’s day joyful
‘Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way’, what good is that if we are not jolly
The Lord has come, so unto this world be peace, love, and most important of all, joy
There is truth and beauty in the person with happiness, looking radiant and joyful
I would give my money just to be happy, to see my loved ones and friends real jolly
Luxury of life I would trade off hapilly, to have the thing the world craves for, joy
(for: them who are ever there!)
these branches and roots
that cord to the grave ancients
should be free from man’s swords!
both oracle and priest held for days …
I
Your voice speaks in the silence of the night
To the deep still shady earth
That once held a great zest for our childhood
Here in the once thick wooded land
Where progenitors strewed their rustic huts
Yes! where, sang tho’ unseen those sonorous kin-spirits.
2
Ah! Happy and keen folks were the ancients, then;
But their sons? what a sad lot, now! even
Demented hearts aching from those drinks of dizzy times
Raw anguish, sorrow, painful hemlocks of death-lines,
The slow songs that tune softly to the mirthful graves
That still hold the ancestors like prisoners in the wild caves.
3
O! for your unravished wave of primal welcome,
That bade the sonorous weaver come
To make loud greeting of blue azure with song-fleet
O! for such uudecoded song that for the sagging flesh bear ointment
Secret balm from the rhyming unsteady palm leaves of the winds
That flute clearly to ancestors those eternal silent songs.
4
Known are those festal spirits of your night
From whom many lives readily spring forth:
Mused thru’ the voices of strong mortal compeers –
Priests, priestesses, praise-singers, warriors, dancers!
That with gusto, flounder across the space of time;
O, for those festal moments of flush! o, for the celestial clime!
5
You are the unseen bridge of the world,
Like Nturukpa, that elder amongst our ferry trees;
Your bark exhumes the bright colours of the past;
And carried thru’ the festal wings of your night
We desire to be mused to the ethereal clime;
Of uncurbed equanimity and euphoria of the divine.
6
I now know the anguish of these festal spirits
Who take refuge on the water-void banks
Of the topmost branches and leaves;
I now know the noise of their feasts in sacrifices:
Doleful sacrifices in the gods’ swollen foot!
Then adieu! adieu! from the cloyed humans in advent!
7
O farewell! with all your festal spirits,
Who coaxed to the night of sacrifices, priests,
Priestesses, dancers, praise-singers, warriors of the land;
Adieu! with these cold celebrations and coax-throated songs heard,
Thru’ the voice and echoes of rain’s thunder,
In the day of the panther and his noble twin, the hunter.
Tattered clobbered thoughts streaming to winged dusts,
spiral spasms tremble amid weary sounds.
The festal moods swing dreary interludes,
visions ache release with defloration--
throaty cries heightens the greedy man's lust.
He longs to possess the murmur of blood
from naked images throbbing desires,
it surges -- tinged to his cerebellum.
Dark libertine drained his desirous juice--
madness stings deep-- displayed to his ardor.
Boorish bashfulness etched into each itch
cracking unto his left to right onslaught.
Finitude fair Venus choked with disgust
as she wriggles, wriggles to free herself!
Her wriggles useless from black libertine...
Pristine Venus fallen-- now wanting death.
©O. E. Guillermo
5:15pm December 05, 2014
Sponsor Giorgio A. V.
Contest Name Structured forms - Iambic verse - Sketch a fictitious character - (Top Gun Poetry)
Placed 6th
Deep purple passion, green garden glory, with a scent remarkably rich,
Like the haunting, full October moon, that hardly ever fails to bewitch!
Lilac lovely, violet and voluptuous, in gilt daytime, and evening's ease,
When soon cosmic skies are colored, like rubies, cardinals and cherries!
Admired like amethysts, or glistening grapes, or plump, plentiful plums,
Or like beauty marching down every lane, to a beating of festal drums!
Lilac like lavender, spreading redolent secrets, over scenic, sunlit miles,
Until sangria nights of fuchsia fervor, and fiery, shooting star projectiles.
Written on 6/1/2022
For: Purple Flowers Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron Flores
Climbers and bushes are like sentinels that guard our terrains,
Waterfalls and paths, cascade like snakes gliding on the mountains,
Our indigenous mansion lounges like a penthouse on the hill,
Amidst echoing rocks, mumbling winds, which chime with a mellow mill.
Chirpy whistles, gaiety gurgles and tuneful tender trills,
Of the nightingales, serenely sooth me with melodious thrills.
My breaths as I awake, perfumed by scents of lavender and jasmine,
The mollifying noon breeze, habitually sprays fragrances pristine,
Women in native regalia adorned, hum harmoniously, ambling to the spring
While whistling herdsmen, guide home their cattle fleets, in the evening.
Festal flashes of the withering sun, linger longingly, as if ruing to depart
From the chaste crimsonlit landscape, like lovers unwilling to part?
The lulling twilight thrush and owl’s ominous knell, contrastingly interlude,
Nightsky; a swarm of stars sprightly surround the moon, like in nuptial beatitude.
Ghastly and grotesque shapes seem to transiently form, from a distance,
Reminiscent of the phantom and fairy folklores, of our childhood dalliance.
I escape the misty chill, as fireflies’ luminous sparks bid me farewell,
Reclining to the quilt of our fireplace, succumbing to its soporific spell,
In a while, surrender to slumber’s beckon, lured like a lyre saccharine,
Home’s where the heart is, always a quilt of memories divine.
© Maverick Nyambu
An unborn baby,
From the womb,
Scratched the belly,
Over and over of its mom;
She minded not once;
But when was frequent,
Rubbing her belly she fondled;
Oh! You impish,
Don't tickle with your tiny nail;
No-no baby I feel too pain;
Again a scratch,
But this time it had sound;
O mu, ye ma-ma mu,
I feel thee, it's so sweet,
Thy touch embellishes,
My tender body,
My heart vacillates in festal;
When thou cohere papa in sleep,
I feel so warmth;
Stimulates my soul,
Feel like sleeping,
In the middle of both;
When papa flirts,
Thy 'no-no' vibrating sound,
Turns my ears on,
Feel thy playful deeds;
All I feel, thy surroundings,
Good mood or bad;
'O' my ma-ma mu,
Thou carry, endure all pain,
Thou made for me,
A doll of mine;
'O' my ma-ma mu,
I am so tempted,
Pull me out from thy womb,
Can't wait, no more;
Want to suckle and play,
With thy mammary glands;
I imagine in all my dreams,
Sexy suckling sound,
Ooon-mu-mu-moo,
Cohering thou, touching thy chest;
Thy lap is paradise,
Made of silky skin;
Let me take my place;
Please let me out;
© sadashivan nair
Once invited by her,
To candle light dinner,
Captivating smile in her face;
I accepted "Oooom! It's OK,
Was looking for a festal break";
Came the evening,
And we were,
At the table candle lit;
Candle kindled,
Melting self to illuminate us;
Watched each other,
Face to face;
The candle in midst of us;
Perhaps was the first,
Step of ladder to blend together,
In one knot;
Rise of romantic emotion,
Witnessed by lit candle,
Billowing flame in inebriation;
Unaware of melting,
To extinction its own entity;
Blinking flame gestured,
'Agni' a fire ritual of candle,
Endorses your togetherness;
© Sadashivan nair