Best Fissures Poems
To The Brink For The Ink Crack Like Fissures
Another page scarred with ink. Upon her page, I see red ink
branded by the thoughts I think. Tattooed thoughts, that make me think
My mind imprisoned, feel the burn, Within intricate patterns, my heart it learns
past the point of no return. As I slip off her ledge, my spirit churns
Faces bob like buoys in an ocean, For her mind, it is an ocean
I'm sea sick to societies motion. I'm lost upon, her wave like motion
Clutter intoxicates my brain, Intoxication, it fills my brain
filling me with failure and pain. Strange impressions, as I view her pain
Forcing sleep deprivation muse, bubbling from my mind, feelings break loose
cigarette, pot and coffee abuse. I'm transported back, to my own abuse
Five A.M. and the pressure is strong Crack like fissures, emotions strong
to make these words move along. I feel I've known her all along
My audience awaits but I'm still She grants me audience, within places still
writing rhymes against my will. Her rhymes resonate, until I bow to her will
Blocked by need I'm suffocated, lungs filled fully, never suffocated
my joy becomes what I've hated. She’s one transcended, not filled with hatred
I can't escape the vines I've grown, a climbing flower, I've see how she's grown
notebook prison, I cry alone. With her notebook open, she's never alone
All this angst and misery, She transcends angst and misery
all for the love of writing poetry. Within her glowing landscape of poetry
Casarah Nance Richard Lamoureux
September 14, 2015 September 14, 2015
Dedicated to the Artistry of Casarah Nance
Form:
.................. L I L O
Y F Y V
M H E M G E
F O R E V E R E T E R N A L
L E N O R E L E N O R E
E N T W I N E D E N T W I N E D
Always with my HearT I Always with true Feeling
Love You, my Dearest WIFE ALWAYS with Emotions
My Love grows like an oak My Heart beats for YOU
Mighty and E v e r l a s t I n g MY TEARS are Real
YOU are M Y STRENGTH Yet My Heart still Aches
FOR YOU LIVE in ME Though You live with GOD
ETERNAL B L I S S YOU wear the gown of Angels
INFINITE P U R E YOU carry my Heart in Yours
You grow in my heart EACH and EVERY Day
The LOVE grows and I am at Peace KNOWING
As LOVE Grows In my BROKEN Heart
Constantly Knitting cracks and Fissures
My Dearest Beloved Tenderly Mended
Repairing Loneliness My Wife Lenore
Angelically Smiles Eternally Loved
MY Only Most B E L O V E D
L I F E L E N O R E
Always F O R E V E R
YOU My Heartbeat
Are My S O U L
MY W I F E
One Breath
N e v e r
Alone
YOU
And
I
Sometimes words just aren't enough
to capture all of the magic that surrounds
the spill of the rainbow after a good storm
the twinkles that resound from a caring eye
the lick of the lips before that first kiss
resplendent, sumptuous, beheld
my mind wanders the forest that is me
searching for what now remains
the faults and the fissures
the fallen, and the free
the leaves fall one by one
opulent amber hues abound
ne'er is there a sound
no words but the beauty still exists
there's a rustle in the air
the bark begins to bleed
will the words spill out and breathe
I hesitate,
a chestnut gallops by
smiles and winks her eye
the words now come
flowing with matchless grace
stunning, wondrous, sweet
adorning a remarkable face
Harvey Denning
1909 – 1923
“I saw the universe a thousand times.”
I saw the face of God
Spread out across the sky
Like a million cities on fire.
Like Troy cut into little pieces
By the slashing sword of Achilles.
Cut to shreds and bleeding.
There on the ramparts
There inside the fissures and crevices
Of ten thousand unknown dreams.
I read the stories of Homer
And the tales of a thousand and one Arabian nights.
And I read the solemnly immortal words
Of Longfellow, Poe and Defoe.
And I decided inside my mind long before I died
To perhaps write the greatest story ever told.
But I fell from my tree house
There on Dorland Street
There in the cool shadows of the walnut tree.
What would have been my story I wonder.
What visions would I have conjured
For all to read and envision?
My friend, will you write my story now?
Will you take pen in hand and possess my voice?
Will you find the noble courage to speak for me?
This forgotten dead soul
Buried here in the dark dust of Clark Cemetery?
If you kindly consent,
Please begin it with these words:
“I saw the universe a thousand times.”
He was clay potato
in raspberry field
exposed, clumsy
between delicate gossip
He turned his back
fingers in fissures
abyss separating life
from living
Hand with deep furrows
built huge walls
rough rock
like he was
Alone in one dream
slalom, downhill
white blindness
stone
held high above his head
as a white feather
against evening sky
a bird from his hands
light brightness
A wish, unfulfilled
***
September 21, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
. Alive...
. the sea ..
. skins the globes
. ever beating heart
. To depth untold…as of old Alive...
. fissures open, part and part the sea ...
Infinite the brash bold wave, whose ever beating
origin defeats the convoluted skull caste mind
all rationale retreats. Liquid, luminous, laughter’s lee Alive...
the hidden hearts source pounding sea. Alive, alive, fresh free…. the sea ....
Return, depart, with missives free…of dangerrrrr, darknessss, and deep
where sailors linger e tern allyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy...............
On a path laid as a snake,
Trodden down a winding wake,
Curls and slithers into night,
To thrones of ever-dimming light;
I hold still and gripped with feeling
In a mist that wraps concealing,
And I glimpse her flicker by
From the corner of my eye.
Heartless granite fissures break
At prayers to God of souls to take,
In their vessels bled to white,
Shells of failure and of blight;
It snares and snags as ivy veins,
Upon the brickwork, grasps and strains,
And I catch her ribbons fly
From the corner of my eye.
Set adrift in this domain,
The dead volcanoes that refrain,
Never smoking nor erupt
For the end was sharp, abrupt;
I feel the ether of despair
Envelope skin with frosted air,
I spot the crystals melt and die
From the corner of my eye.
No space for sorrow to explain,
To tell how love was savaged, slain,
The stir of breath can bare disrupt
Or wall of silence interrupt;
A fear of days, in truth, compare
With nights that always hunger there,
Unguarded moments, her I spy
From the corner of my eye.
Your eyes flame of fascination
and I feel unworthy to be looked upon
by a goddess. Then your lips twirl as your voice
begins to play “Good Morning.” A beloved song, always composing
a smile to my mornings and reminding me that I’m truly blessed.
After the record fades we lay comfortably in its evanescence.
Awaiting nothing, simply lost in the presence of love. My fingers leisurely
trace tender curves and turns of God’s greatest works as your warmth welcomes
me closer. Your hands blindly search for mine and the fissures are filled as our hands
fasten. Then your voice begins to play, “I Love You” and I repeat trying my best to
stay in tune. We whisper acapella as our bodies begin to compose a beat through passion.
A tenor soprano duo at its best. You’re my favorite song.
I watched it emerge
from out of the fog, monumental
in size, a sheer cliff face of steel
moving pass me, almost
quieter than my breath
but for a whispered wake
running from its bow.
Something this big
should have made
more noise.
A black hull bore scars
of scrapings and rust bleeding out
of fissures along its length.
The fog seemed to oil its way,
its shape looming large
then slowly growing smaller
as it slid down river until
it dimmed and disappeared.
In that moment its passage
was a mystery, a brief apparition
of something beyond the dimension
of ordinary things. The quiet
of its passing, the dark bulk
and beauty of its presence
was magnificent
and overpowering.
It was like a shadow cast
by a mythical beast
coalescing out of history,
infiltrating the mind then
dissolving once more
into a place somewhere
hidden in its magical past,
suddenly brought back
to this world
with its registered port
written in rusty lettering
on its stern - MONROVIA
Don't fall through the cracks,
through the floorboards
past the pipes
hot water hissing
grey metallic stun gun dull.
Don't land on the basement steps,
slipping on down
bumping the back bone
breaking the fall
with your body gone white like you know it so well.
Don't let the swallow of house
and of home
consume you
in solitude's
greedy embrace
Don't wish the outside
would stop looking in
and impute ugly motives
to trees and to flowers
who have your best interest
in chlorophyll hearts.
Don't taste the floors
on your way down to hiding
Don't dine on splinters
and varnish and wine
Don't master silence
when no one is looking
Don't close your eyes
and pretend you are fine.
Don't slip on sentences
you uttered years ago
down in the basement
in pipes
steaming hot
Don't waste your sentiments
or your existence
on hiding the fact
that you are
what you're not
Don't laugh at paintings
with eyes that console you
on walls that you hung
last July on a whim
Don't think the walls
don't expect you
to call them
if you are in trouble
and losing your color from somewhere within
Don't apply pressure
to fissures in floorboards
to fit your way through
and become
what you lose
It's a lot stronger
to stand and absorb it-
surroundings adore you,
implore you to chose.
.................. L I L O
Y F Y V
M H E M G E
F O R E V E R E T E R N A L
L E N O R E L E N O R E
E N T W I N E D E N T W I N E D
Always with my HearT I Always with true Feeling
Love You, my Dearest WIFE ALWAYS with Emotions
My Love grows like an oak My Heart beats for YOU
Mighty and E v e r l a s t I n g MY TEARS are Real
YOU are M Y STRENGTH Yet My Heart still Aches
FOR YOU LIVE in ME Though You live with GOD
ETERNAL B L I S S YOU wear the gown of Angels
INFINITE P U R E YOU carry my Heart in Yours
You grow in my heart EACH and EVERY Day
The LOVE grows and I am at Peace KNOWING
As LOVE Grows In my BROKEN Heart
Constantly Knitting cracks and Fissures
My Dearest Beloved Tenderly Mended
Repairing Loneliness My Wife Lenore
Angelically Smiles Eternally Loved
MY Only Most B E L O V E D
L I F E L E N O R E
Always F O R E V E R
YOU My Heartbeat
Are My S O U L
MY W I F E
One Breath
N e v e r
Alone
YOU
And
I
Velcro ripped and soda fizz
Velvet crushed Moroccan night
Nocturnal buterflies those flickering fireflies
Our winking spies like circling satelites
Coming together , we fissures of light
Delicious refrain we split like pomegranite
Love spinning round the sun and the planets
Mortally chiselled on tombstone of granite
Hark ! Who goes there this Luciferous night
Its only I with my faltering lantern
Dragging behind attached little light
Fallen firefly - slow creeping glow worm
Mid air flight hangs the hateful things we said
Farewell this, heres lookin' at you kid
Mother Earth bearded with trees,
Blanketed with skin of sod,
Her stony organs composed
of caves, caverns and caches,
Banking precious minerals and gems.
Sustained by the Solar system surrounding her,
and nourished from relished rescources within.
Her ferocious fiery heart
Pumps high pressured molten blood
Through vast veins of ledge,
Bleeding it from mountain pores,
Crater wounds and fissures
on her ocean floors,
Causing salty Tsunami tears
to ripple across her cheeky shores.
Her face wrinkled with the majesty of mountains,
Dimpled with canyons and crevasse,
Stained with grasslands and Savannahs,
and spotted with veneer of velveteen moss.
Pimpled by hills leaking with raging rivers,
bathed in cascading waterfall showers,
and crystal blue water lakes.
Animated by nature,.. her soul, ..her DNA
She adorns her antiquity
with shocking arrays of multicolored wildflowers,
Delicious fruit, a vital ensemble of vegetables,
Herbs, artifacts of energy and natural wonders;
Creating an electrifying, atomic, atmosphere
to stage her exotic creatures and precious beings.
Adorned by a circling celestial priceless pearl,
An exquisite orb as ancient as She.
She, this blue planet,
Center of her spatial stage,
Unabashed, pirouetting, posing,
Tilting and lilting her charms,
to a universal audience of retreating astral beings.
She, spotlighted by an extravaganza of stellar luminaries.
She, Earth, so powerful, energized, extraordinary,
Mesmerizing, distinguished, mysterious,
Thought by many to be the godess,
Star of the Show...
And yet...
and yet ..she herself..
and All of nature..
has been ..
CREATED.
Famished and flagging footsoldiers;
formerly fitters and farmers.
Facing fatigue, fitful fever,
faeces and foul, foetid fungi.
Fostering feelings, frustrated,
for this faraway, foreign field.
Forsaking fissures and furrows,
forced forwards with fleetness of foot.
Firearms flash and fragments fly far,
feigning the firmament aflame.
Fighting so fierce and ferocious,
fratricide set free on this field.
Fuelled by freedom, nay, falsehood;
for their fellows and friends, foremost.
Forays so fraught with fine failure,
fatally fettered from the first.
Forged by such fatuous fawners,
focus firmly fixed on this field.
Forfeiting furtive and fiendish,
fulfilment was falsely forecast.
Fate flexes her fickle fingers,
future’s foretold and foreshadowed.
Faustian favours forthcoming,
for folly to feud for a field.
Families of fine forefathers,
fought fiercely, for fear we’d forget.
Forthright and filial feelings,
forgo fun and frivolity.
Familiar flora forms focus,
for the fallen in Flanders Field.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
8 syallables on every line (www.howmanysyllables.com)
November 2018
(This is my original / extended version)
I wanted to do something special - and a bit different - to mark the centenary of the end of The Great War (11 November 1918). This poem is dedicated to all the brave souls lost defending freedom during that terrible conflict (and all conflicts since).
Outside my window, all is dull and white
As morning spreads on cracks across the bay,
Her prickly fissures stark, like threads contrite,
Against the pewter of a frigid day
Where sullen the view from iced winds’ replay.
I see a varnished gleam in my heart’s eye
While peonies are climbing at the gate ,
That birds of red and yellow twit nearby,
Enchanting leafy maples, so ornate
Till sundew bursts on fresh morn, to elate!
Contest:It Was One Of Those Mornings
Sponsor: Sara Kendrick
9/19/2016