Best Fiesta Poems
Let’s fly to the celestial fiesta of the cherry blossom,
In the North Eastern Region of Shillong, named, “The Scotland of the East,
The abode of the cloud,” in the lush mesa of the magnetic Meghalaya!
The wheezing Pine forest of the whispering waterfalls in the Khasi hills,
is bustling with the nature’s fairytale of pink, white and ivory!
As far as the eyes can see, the rolling tableland is ringing, ridden by the radiant petals of cherries!
Neither Japan, nor Paris, a mere remote region of Indian plateau,
Glowing in nature’s sublime glory of pellucid picturesque pinks!
Nicknamed, Prunus Cerasoides, the cherry blossoms,
a delightful boon of Himalayas,
are blooming profusely in the magical
verdant highland of the East Khasi hills!
The November is rippling with
moonlit music, plethora of flamboyant folk dances,
pageants, stalls to cater to the globetrotters’ penchant for the ethnicity
of the fur-flung region’s tribes’ cuisines, wine, arts and cryptic crafts!
Such bedazzling is the serenity of the panaromic platonic plateau,
As folks of the vicinity, are traversing despite the rampant pandemic,
to glimpse the shangri la of the richest biome of the floral magical lane!
The resonating frolic of the chirping and twittering from the cheerful cherry bushes
are teeming with the twirling bliss, intoning,
in winters whistling whiff!
A nature’s bounty, a pamphlet of picturesque hamlets’ terrains of aromatic sensuous purity!
Blessed are they, who have witnessed the once in a lifetime scene of crystal clean roaring rivulets, murmuring brooks, the ravishing orchids, quirky root bridges, aesthetic lakes and rills, scented wild flowers, encompassing the enigmatic cherry blooms of the mystic land of the majestic mountains!
An euphoria to have a ride amidst the clouds of the misty moorlands,
gliding languidly to take the signature of the mementos of the moments;
to kiss the plateau of wild orchids, flowering Cherries and sacred woodlands of those Khasi hills,
crackling with the sprouting, cherry blossom festival of the far East!
kick and swish
crunch and swirl
autumn leaves
playful whirl
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
We’re going on a break, R and R for a week.
It’ll be just my beautiful girl and me.
Plan on sitting on a beach, alone on a beach,
Just sipping some fine Chablis.
We’ll sit and we’ll talk about nothing at all,
Warming with the fine soft sand.
Slowly but surely kind of cooking ourselves,
Cooking until we are tanned.
Then we’ll wander in waves, vibrant radiant waves,
Getting hit, bashed, and crashed by the swell.
Until the end of each day when we’ll walk our way back,
Via pubs and cafes to our hotel.
There we’ll do what all loving couples can do,
And do it well into the night.
We’ll enjoy the calm dark, out by the warm poolside,
And do it in the moonlight.
Each day will begin with the slow hug, passionate kiss,
Hot coffee, and a warm bun.
We’ll be on a fiesta for a week at a beach,
For both of us a week full of fun.
Banquet here
On island resort
Fun greets cheer
Where fancy casts lot
Sea of crowd
Swirl of new faces
Noise floats loud
Happy new traces
Time for smiles
Wonder seeds gaudy
Sensuous styles
Eclectic fancy
Joy streams fest
Decor in sure flair
Seize fond zest
In wedding affair
Buzz regales
Fusion menu fare
Catwalk tale
Watch frolic move air
In glad swirl
Banquet blooms precise
Apt moods hurl
Finesse flings surprise
Strokes breathe fond
Fairy tale ideas
Prize moves bond
Sparkle oomph streams cheer
Poise knows voice
In catwalk parade
Noise greets choice
In lovely charade
Tryst casts cheer
One of a kind night
Love floats dear
Craft of sheer delight
A prompt dash
As glee feels set free
Sparks now flash
In love's symphony
Hearts know art
A dream fable gift
Craft you start
As feelings uplift
Love moves each
As journey quest grooms
Joy binds reach
In bright floral blooms
Live fond souls
Love that patterns find
Twin hearts whole
Seize true peace of mind
Leon Enriquez
13 May 2017
Singapore
Fiesta.
Feeling of excitment,
Festival of Christmas,
Frollicking I arrange,
Flavoured cake for display,
Framboise drink is my choice,
Flutist plays Santa's tunes,
Fragrance of love prevails.
P.S- Pleiades is a seven line poem with six syllables each.Each line begins with the first letter of the title.
Contest:Merry Christmas and New year Pleiades Contest.
Sponsor:Andrea Dietrich.
30/12/2016.
Rock, reggae , samba...
is when our souls are singing,
and the pain? thus !...dances... !!!
Bells from church to cathedral rang out the chorus of screams
in every street echoed the cheering death of millions
as confetti rainbows came falling ticker-tape parade
from a sky of joy ashed smoke rained down in tears
Champagne corks burst a parties barrage of bombs
and wine flowed the blood over daughters and sons
a dance of tombstones to bless the survivors cause
and to applaud the rater-tat-rater-tat-ratter-tat of victories drums
the bright banners of missiles whistled over them
In such a heroes cavalcade decorated the gold of napalm
in the body-bags of freedoms fiesta
explosions of fireworks shatter the bones of machine guns
and over the graves spilled the laughter of everyone
All the flags of the nations floated bravely in their sea of lies
all wafted to triumph on winds blown heated through Hiroshima
celebrate the hour of undefeated in the corpses surrender
to count the unknown faces in the smiles of another
too drunk on relief to remember the cost of life
and the party of bullets raged on through the night
Praise your curse to securities uplifting
and babies of dust in rubble are born
the faceless injustice you so premeditated
to a murderous allegiance your anthem is sworn
Bells from church to cathedral rang out the chorus of screams
and wine flowed the blood over all their daughters and sons
celebrate the hour of undefeated in the corpses surrender
applauding the rater-tat-rater-tat-ratter-tat of victories drums
children of dust in rubble are born
in the body-bags of freedoms fiesta
I didn't want to attend that damned bullfight, but my girlfriends finally persuaded
me, seeing as though I had grown weary of the lone traveler routine, continually
taking the path of opposition.
So, at three pm, I found myself walking into that sandy arena on that deceivingly
sunny day.
I spotted the bull, so beautiful he was, and gazed into those big, brown eyes; for
a moment, just a moment, he appeared to stare back at me.
The matador was as smooth as his red and black velvet jacket, elegant as his
black bow tie, and for a moment, just a moment, I was infatuated by his dark skin
and straight white teeth, especially when he smiled and kissed me softly on my
tiny hand.
Many people, mostly visitors from other lands, applauded him, praised him for
his bravery as he taunted the bull with his fiery, red cloak.
But then, how was this animal to understand his fate?
Perhaps his instincts informed him that he was trapped, that forcibly, he was
compelled to defend himself. Perhaps.
And he did.
Brutally beaten, I observed as he lay defenseless, body consumed by sand,
sides heaving while the matador proudly raised his hand to accommodate the
vigorous spectators; my friends cheered along with the crowd.
I cried.
Note: La Fiesta Brava is Spanish for "the brave festival."
in calendar no matter what happens it is always fiesta
Feel stillness here
In placid cheer
Know a sure glow
In hidden show
Come then with charm
As soul now arms
Calm fills the air
In subtle flair
Join in the stream
Dream upon dream
Wit knows fond fit
In random bits
Realise the truth
As heart seeds proof
Know that you know
More than you show
Poise follows path
Then works all stuff
Here on these grounds
Wholeness feels sound
Purge then harsh fear
Discern what's dear
Love lives fond tell
Just where you dwell
Here on this earth
Birth flavours birth
Join in the cheer
As joy endears
Leon Enriquez
11 January 2016
Singapore
I don't ratify this fake party,
I intend to rid it of failure
to the glory...
I don't approve immobility
of our friendly relationships...
I wish warm beds,
and fire in love...
I don't appreciate life
painted in pictures on the walls,
Desire to paint the story of life...
It's not enough for me to contemplate
beauty sparse...nature dead !
I wish to expose the total beauty
which exists in everything... !
It was a strange sort of day
A Heavy treacley sky
That seemed too thick
For any bird to even try to fly.
The city lay in waiting for
Celebrations to begin
The Fiesta of Fiestas
Days of mildly hedonistic sin.
He Danced a Mexican Hat Dance
His sombrero slung on the floor
And then to rapturous applause
He went and Danced it once more.
The Toreador in the corner
Sipped at his third Pink Gin
And waited for the Marshal
To signal the Fiesta to begin.
There were Castanets and Maracas
And a heady Flamenco Guitar
To disturb the sleeping drunkard
As he snored away in the bar.
It was all a much of a nothing
Thought the resident Fiesta clown
As he fingered the tasselled rope
That let the scenery slide down.
Over in the Central Prison
Warden served tea in every cell
Then notified the residents
By three rings of the prison bell.
Just a matter of routine he thought
As he picked up his sombrero hat
And walked quietly back home
To feed his waiting tabby cat.
Tomorrow just after dawn would
Start much more of the same
As they entertained the tourists
In their daily entertainment game.
It’s the same the whole world over
They’ll make do with the tried and trite
Do long as it’s sunny and warm
And they get the timings just right.
Feast then on voice that comes to show,
Intuit a whole with heart and mind;
Emerge with poise that charm now shows,
Sublime the soul that frames bold finds;
Touch a pure thrill as joy frees play,
Allow good times to bring fond ease.
Think of goodwill that floods this day,
Oblige each chime that offers peace.
Feel with your heart pleasure and pain,
Invest and see true craft that frees;
Embrace fine start in art most plain,
Sense what will be grand bounty's tree;
Take and give more so happy knows,
Ask from a core to fund wise flow.
Leon Enriquez
05 November 2015
Singapore
Crazy balloons for flying,
flowers eager to breathe,
tables tired from so much weight...
Cups wanting to rest
on the shelves,
voices complaining strangely,
night wanting to dawn already...
This is party, fiesta!
at summer’s end
sunrays do linger
lasting fragments
worth clinging to
days idle and atrophied
as we wind down
reflecting on waning summers
the paths we chose
inspired by our guides
the seasons wane
persistent aura
last shades of summer glow
sundown on our journey
as time recedes
the hush of nature at our feet
lethargic afternoons
treasured solitude
across open fields
our minds on pause
before the setting sun
feeling reclusive
nurturing thoughts
sheltered and secluded
leisurely reclusive
fortuitous and serendipitous
withdrawn a gathering of minds
pausing for reflection
an invitation to dawdle
enjoying last precious sunrays
their dwindling magic
while we ponder our good fortune
by reverie or by design
we hang on for dear life
to every hope we cherish
Published in my 24-page photo book ~FALL FIESTA~ 2019
AP: 3rd place 2020