Best Florescence Poems
you say you
love the moon
but it’s the stars
you gaze at,
as you stretch
your petal-like fingers
to flaunt magical phrases
across nocturnal nights~
stealing their
fragrant florescence
within forsaken
liquified lights,
to make them an
unseen reality
worth reading,
as your charming words
woven with
wisteria wishes
protect them
from invisible ink,
that has been
burning empty pages
from fiery flames,
oblivious to the
tangerine truth
not every twinkling gem
can grant your wishes
to flicker caramel gold…
perhaps, you should
see the sacred
scriptures in silver
within lunar spheres,
how she carries
perfumed pain,
whilst remaining faithfully
as a fairy goddess;
beacon of hyacinth hope
when you were
in your
island of ignorance,
speaking the
lyrical language
of dimmed dreams in
sentimental silence
so don’t question her
wounded skin reflecting
confined absence~
nor blame the
sizzling sapphires
with her name sewn,
in vibrant violet
within the crystalline
cage beneath
crooning seas
she was never guilty
of lethal love
nor were her
emerald emotions
manipulative games
designed for
ephemeral pleasures~
she, was in
need of a
sublime rhyme
that can set her
healing heart ablaze,
reignite reasons to relive
promises made amidst
inevitable distance
but if pain prompted
a voice
you’ll feel her
bleeding soul
and her aching sight;
she’s seen so much
of what the dying
leaves and
falling season
could do,
yet, the wind
never revealed
secrets of the
sunflower crescent,
for her tale was never
meant to be
told to the weak~
trees with torn twigs,
too afraid to translate
heartbroken hymns
and eager to place
lambent labels
on wilted weeds
and faded flowers,
unaware of the raven runes
flowing in fickle flares
within their
stone cold skin.
Dear 2024,
I hope this poetic vow
wouldn’t be shunned,
as I block negativity
from my phone,
like my bitter exes.
And forgive my sense
of humor that
resembles sour grapes,
like a dash of salt
and pepper sprinkled
on top of old drapes.
Perhaps, as this
year bids adieu,
I’ll find the right
ingredient to concoct
sparkling wine infused
with giggles that
age like
chucklesome limericks,
as I fine-tune the
empty spaces
of my scribbled
pages with hilarity.
I’ll learn to laugh a
little louder and hope
the ebb of every
comical tale can flow.
Maybe a stricter
chocolate diet would
help me see the
sweeter side of
powdered comedians,
sharpening my wit
as endorphins enhance
my ability to spot
the depth of puns
punctuated
with bizarre tones.
And as December rain
drizzles in symphony
of the darkness
my quill flaunts,
pardon these
peculiar metaphors,
I’ll raise a glass
of crocodile tears,
a toast for
more concise poetry,
and faces I’ve phased,
that I’ll no longer
vent about in vain verses.
Cheers to the
festival lights
on wheel of laughter,
may the florescence
forever flicker as
souvenirs of amusement.
I’ll dance into the
rising sun of a new year,
in an odyssey adorned
with shimmering dreams
embalmed in
tickling mint leaves.
Stretched along the silent winter garden
thrives a cold, dark dirt blanketed in olive decaying leaves.
Beneath the food of natural fertilizers, life emerges from its long hushed sleep
in sprouts of pale yellowed seafoam tender tiny greenery
with shoots of seaweed blue tinged daffodills
that push aside the hued lime grass carpeting.
The faded colors lost in the long white winter, rises,
in emerald peekings of a snowdrop wrapped in hazel eyed hues,
lush colors bleed into the awaiting shamrock meadow below,
escaping the melting and discolored snow.
Life springs forward to welcome the new season.
along the roof moss grows freely along the edge in pickled shades
thriving and living as a neon florescence in the sun
and the world is once again,
reborn to pistachio and clover imagery
lying where the green grass grows again.
.
"This is Spring" said I
what could go wrong
The sun shining
with a soft warmth
mine eyne glowing
my brain trouncing mine heart
wheedling me on
"Look there
in the garden
presenting Spring's
soft breeze
pining affection
leaning
pointing in my
direction
her florescence"
February 13 Scripture Meditations Based on Joshua 1-5
Key Verse – Joshua 1:9 Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the LORD thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.
MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR COMMANDING ME TO BE STRONG
Thank You for commanding me to be strong in Your might
In treading upon Your promised land of truth and right
As I observe Your law and meditate therein day and night
For me to be prosperous in Your sight.
Thank You for commanding me to be strong in Your presence
In remembering Your Word with Your principles’ iridescence
As I enjoy Your favour while worshipping You with spiritual florescence
For me to be devoted to Your heart by Your fellowship’s license.
Thank You for commanding me to be strong in Your kindness
In dealing well and truly with Your ministry midst anxiousness
As I stay in Your will that welcomes me into Your goodness
For me to be blissful in Your graciousness.
Thank You for commanding me to be strong in Your covenant
In choosing Your way against being skeptically indignant
As I observe Your voice so tenderly dominant
For me to be faithful and not faith-stagnant.
Thank You for commanding me to be strong in Your sovereignty
In walking along Your holiness-fenced security
As I follow Your steps of divine authority
For me to be effective in working by Your majesty.
Thank You for commanding me to be strong in Your instruction
In pursuing toward Your name’s glorification
As I esteem Your Deity against idolatry’s temptation
For me to be pleasing by Your righteousness’ beautification.
February 13, 2022
Absurdity
Behind the closed portal and the open door,
stands the lonely legless man with his paramour.
He is singing silently
in the peace of night violently
a nocturnal sunrise
of miserly giving called nameless
absurdity.
With the stroke of midnight and the bells of high noon,
is the sunless side of a bright full moon
it's florescence darkens
paths blocked by people smartly
stupidly cunningly planned on
lush arid land in
absurdity.
In the quiet of the day is a cacophony
the most pleasant of uncoordinated harmonies
an insane, intense lullaby
that deafens silently softly
a song of shame haughtily
carries the same variation
of noise depravation for
absurdity.
Running cracks of lead flaked paint, spiders across the front door like a grandfather's
forehead.
Its hinges squeal from years of inattention and forgotten maintenance
Floor boards moan a song of dismemberment and forgotten age
While musty gloom thickens the air – inhibiting, restricting, compressing breaths
Entrance ways lead to hallways which culminate and connect enclosed spaces,
hovering in an atmosphere of haunt and mourn
Conversations linger, echoing within walls of dine and feast
settings arranged from ritual –
two plates,
two bowls,
two cups,
two knives,
two spoons,
two forks,
two napkins,
two chairs,
with only voice and ephemeral trace.
Twisted unleveled stairs, escalate to second stories
letters to love and hate cover ancient mourning boards.
Segmented space divides the infant from maturation.
Cracked spine, chipped rails, exposing the wooden crib core
Superficial angst and rage characterizing the infant's facade,
yet delicate love exposed in clean white linens pressed and laid in perfection
sets the bedding stage for stuffed bears and embroidered blankies
Toppled bookcase defecates bound knowledge across adult wooden bed frame
disheveling sheets, rugs, and right angles,
its half fallen posture exposes entrance way to hidden passages.
Between walls, moving slow as not to catch thread to exposed nail, pipe, or wire
shoulders grazing support beams, pace entranced by flattening florescence bulbed ceilings
Each step enclosing space tighter and tighter
Climax turns to anticlimax as exit opens to
a hermetic cell of textural paint echoing skin blotched and boiled.
Surrounding walls of tattered gold, ulcer red and puss filled purple,
each based with blotched skin.?Encircles full length mirror exposing views of deceased
discomfort –
Black glass glows within frame of ornate wood
spiking and curling with baroque transcendence
Reflecting back a ghost of future deceased persona.
Every dawn I yawn quiet, florescence I inhibit softly
A clear image I peep, nature settles calmly
Her intentions are infectious like a blossomed flower
Reminds me of a family member who meet God at the calling hours
Kindred spirit fully defined the character she was
I inherited the genetics, only reason I still search for love
But moments I'm impatient because there is not much time
Predicting a future analysis, for a young guy it's surprising
Maybe it's my fatal dreams that scream to me
I hope I at least find a woman I adore passionately
When I'm shook with hesitation, I feel the wind grabbing me
Pulling me with motivation to hopefully find my destiny
Dear Heavenly Father, I give you my props
Even though I walked without confidence and stumbled a lot
I will forever praise you as you raised me
Continue striving and even after my heartbeat suddenly stops
Showing my appreciation because you're the only one who truly cared for me
You did make me suffer, but for a good cause
To make me stronger and improve my many flaws
Failed connections I made because I misunderstood how I came across
The surface we stand on is never expected to be perfect
Please heal those who once made me feel worthless
I rest in your closed arms, a home I truly belong
My illness happened for a reason, you were the answer all along
S pring in her steps she wanders in wonder
R ecoils in amazement retraces the year
I gnites the haven the Persians call ‘bunder’
N o regrets but resilience beyond graffiti of fear
G ive me hope she exclaims I will not go under
I n the semi desert one forgotten Iris blooms
S urpassing the ruins and shackles of tombs
C risp early morning she takes shelter in beauty
O h Allah protect me while my husband is gone
M y children are hungry for them it’s my duty
I nstil all the love past seasons have foregone
N ever give up the new summer comes closer
G ive praise to beginnings a flower’s composer
S pring might well bring all the Peace we deserve
O n this day with the spring and lonely florescence
O bituaries settled and truce's armistice observed
N o winter shall break her so true to her essence
30th March 2017
Green grow the lilacs, the old song still rings true,
Tex Ritter and Johnny Cash sang out the notes in colors blue.
How is it I remember the song still so clear today
as lilacs scent spring air of a sweetheart love with emeralds displayed
both oceaned dark and fern feathered green but hidden and jaded.
Sad songs in life are shaded by the forest green and words of sages
as love burns hot red purple passioned in the sea of enveloped envy
and shamrocks march in the sun's reflection now, almost empty.
Lost to the soul and singer's original intent by indulged imbibed absinthe
fading to shades of florescence curling through lost love's labyrinth.
Green grow the lilacs, sparkling with dew,
I miss you my love, how I miss you.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k5xWkhEL8-o
Oh, the morns – with the freshness
of the birds.
That child, that used to jump
like at hopscotch
(not to step over shadows).
The florescence of the distant almonds …
And those wild sunflowers
I gift to you
(on my palms the wind
is coming down).
Words meaning nothing
as:
“Lazarus, come out!”
God!
Grant Hopes.
There's madness in enlightenment,
preferring darkly recesses of denial
whilst moon descends sensibilities,
shedding white powder florescence
fracturing every crack & crevice,
most days long to dwell
in oblivion, remembers it fondly,
before unicorns and monsters
became real and materialized
taunting duskiest memories
always knew in her bones
that something was askew,
fear and breathlessness
a huge part of her psyche,
on the surface she seemed
to have it together but,
her marrow was aware,
as dysfunctional trembled - -
nagging blitzed neurons,
felt its prevailing intrusiveness
a foreboding presence beckoning
in blindingly echoed vocalizations,
long before time even existed
She lives in continuous disorder,
tucked away within her own reflection
chaos extruding every wakeful moment,
powerless to cease mind-boggling adaptations
The moon in her fullest florescence
Drifting through the thicket
Hooked in the branches
Whispered secrets to the tree
Shied leaves bent down their heads
And the naughty wind carried away the giggles.
PLACE : 2nd
In Bloom Poetry Contest
Personification poetry form only.
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Date: 01-03-2023
There was a flood in my backyard;
it outlined my land in dirt shades of florescence.
Coming out of the pond, like some creature of eau,
it ate up the grass and spit out limp coral;
frogs swam upscale, but no safety could be found
for kitten mouths clamped down, and dragged them home.
Bats turned red and wet,
they hissed with diseases clinging to their teeth;
and through the midsts of all this destruction, and tears,
there came spurting the idea of you
- how you came, like a monster made of water,
crippling creation with every electron.
To all that these my words can reach
The weak, the strong, the poor, the rich
I want to let it known today
That I have met a sunny day
She’s light in all symbolic sense
Brighter than the florescence
She’s perfect beyond reasoning
She needs no other lighting
A day has never been this bright
And I have never seen such light
In all my wandering days on earth
I’ve never met such day from birth
And now, to whom it may concern
I want to no longer pretend
You are to me a sunny day
So call me when you get this bae.
Written by Kanu Ekpezu