Best Fluorescence Poems
I trace the blushing texture
of smoked allure
with aching fingers,
fervent and blue ~
inhaling the intense incense,
exhaling the iron thorn
of love sabotaged
for I feel your hands ferociously
roaming my flawed frames
eager to taste the fragments
of the sunrise you seek
in hues of hostile gold...
while the tales within
your eyes reveal
the truth of my tongue
twirling and teasing
colors of confession
and amethyst reveries
stroking the weight of want
in soft butterfly ink blooms
kissing your fears
into fluorescence
bringing your armored spirit
to kneel at the altar of attachment,
glued to the crimson of craving,
as an inamorato trembling ~
struck by the fever of fixation...
there is no escape, O beloved
from this inexcusable
intoxication of passion ablaze...
longing has no logic to philosophize
and you are now sitting
imprisoned as an impassioned
Antony’s portraitist
upon Cleopatra’s pedestal
wedded to the edges of infinity ~
a torn canvas is two paintings
oblivious to the galleries of grief
as healing hums through walls
that feel the melodious mists
falling like rain of rippling roses
pulling and pushing nevermore
but soaked in the dews
of quivering seconds
tuning time through heartbeats...
we are dreamers of what would be
if the acrylic carves wounds
into an ineffable masterpiece
the dawn never asked for more than
a constellation
untouched and unmoved by doubt
the sun never questioned
the sands of sorrow
so melt these tears
into your sweet fire ~
breathe my demons
into your warm sky
release all resistance
you are no longer trapped, but free
in the arms of undeniable moonlight
engrossed in the perfumed spell
of wild heat ~
there is no threat in deep devotion;
love blossoms
as a sketched sanctuary
of softened colors and trust…
"I've got sunshine"
TANKA~ 1
This heavyweight wind
jiggles the chimes limbs hanging
sensitively
a thousand sound waves invade
visible radiation
~~~~~
TANKA~ 2
Dark moonlight tempest
blunders off the mountain top
a massive flooring…
the courageous beam of light
saved souls upon meadow blades
~~~~~
TANKA ~3
A place called daylight
where the beam is always pure
luminescence
if you could only feel this
you’d ask to hold the torchlight
~~~~~
TANKA~ 4
Somewhere were you sleep
the fluorescence substance light
absorbs your beauty
every second that you breath
the light becomes like sunshine
~~~~~
TANKA ~5
Sky of falling stars
belong in my diary
notification
renewing my wedding vows
sunshine begins with me
~~~~~
TANKA~ 6
Missed the snooze button;
pendulum rods tick out loud
morning bird and worm;
sunlit curtains smooth rays
anonymous melody
~~~~~
TANKA ~7
Two rainbows petals
peek outside with loneliness
against no sunlight
rainy weather condition
no color will bring you back
~~~~~
by;PD
10-10-12
for: contest
"Bonjour, in the cocktail woods"
I see the waffled leaves of teal trees painting pink moon,
With diamond dahlia arcs, flowering an orchid boon
Sprinkling love of french perfumed spells and cocoa mystique,
Flickering in neon scented star seeds of rose-glossed antique
For, I'm the fragrant fluorescence of pure peace lilies,
Floating amidst dancing dove's glowing daisies
In a redolent riverbank, loving life like the sweet butter-sun,
Wandering in black forests, enveloping magic in red ribbons
Defrosting my white chocolate heart peeking through tinkles,
Singing beyond the glass petals of peony and snowdrop marvels;
Perhaps, plush strawberries too have starry scars,
On their silken ganache skin, bleached with calendula and mars
And my luscious butterscotch lips tremble at the blurry squeaks,
Ruffled by minty chills in my cherry-blushed cheeks
I search for addictive caffeine in gold-glazed dawns that bask,
Pouring nectarine reveries in lavender litchi hearts
Life's a bittersweet syrupy sea, coated with tangy rainbow hues,
Forlorn, this forbidden folklore is shaded with sycamore's adieus
They say, mocha pupils and vanilla haze of iris,
Can carve a melon hued watercolor portrait alive,
But I believe that the purest is never a sweet dessert survived,
In this delusional donut-shaped globe and tangerine beehive;
So, I shove my identity in Van Gogh's abstractly bejeweled canvas,
And let my caramel brown hair, gleam in golden hymns of aqua
Waving walnut "goodbyes" to velvet ochre sands and sapphire skies,
Forevermore, fluttering hummingbird's dreams in oscillating flamingo galaxies.
she disturbs meaning
in rhythmic pulsation
exciting to fluorescence a deeply subtext'd verse;
'but don't mistake a stinging strophe for arrogance.'
'that's just fierce presence,'
moved by waves of astonishment
cascading through a nervous and vascular system
spontaneously overflowed
sea through
with a reaching iridescent tentacle
she simply, elegantly, fluoresces a gleam in your eyes
Is it the light
that long high fluorescence?
Or is it the half-light?
Why am I so dizzy?
Or was it the Sleeping Gypsy
mounted just above descending stairs?
I'd seen the work in magazines
robbed of size and color flair
but now in its magnificence
Oh why am I so dizzy?
It must have been my first full view lifesize view of Guernica
in its breadth
its height
all that black and white
stretched along the basement wall
Why am I so dizzy
mind in ghostly disarray?
I finally think it is this feeling opaque
Brush
Paint
Plaster
Wire
Marble
Canvas
Transcendental SPLIT!
"WE are HERE!"
Our love eternal an enduring infernal
Thru galactic mist it shall always exist
Our love undying magically mystifying
How can I resist since you I’ve kissed
Our love forever an endless endeavor
Thru celestial skies our spirit never dies
Our love in hell a fragile empty eggshell
They will chastise within lamenting lies
Our love reborn I shall obediently adorn
Your ever presence a potent pleasance
Our love Galactic with clusters climactic
A floral fluorescence a lust luminescence.
Aug.4.2017
MID AUGUST STANDARD CONTEST
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
"Orgasmic Oceans Outlive"
Open skies, where early morning sun wakes...
Rippling small waves hook the shore,
Gladly playing with sun, pebbles and sand
Along this world orgasmic senses breathe
Sending each guest higher and higher
Making this wonderment like no other
Innate flight up, up and higher still
Canto in C, wild and passionate
Only sun and moon know where to be
Capturing silhouettes of reflective light
Engaging all to be part of this world
Arched in this fluorescence whales sing their love
Near each other, nuzzling in wintry water
Slowly engaging, with carnal coyness
Onwardly waltzing upon diamond rocks
Ultimately embracing all that is rapture
Taking hold of love light and glory
Living within this open dream existence
I wish never to awake or leave
Vessels in the distance swim between dolphins,
Each will carry us to dreamlike destinations
co written by
SkyWatcher and Darren White
05-07-17
note to Darren
Darren you have no idea what this entry means to me and the worth of working together with you and sharing words. And yes sharing words of the ocean. How grand is that. Very. It was an honor and privilege.
Thank you Darren. Excuse me. Thank you Penguin.
Once upon a time... a child celebrated
Colorful lights of Crackers...
Fluorescence of Fireworks.
The black powder bonfires in sky
Illuminated his darkness ..
Sprinkling showers of acoustic pops.
And then...
Demons ignited black powder to enslave his mind.
His cranium was detonated with guns and bullets.
Blitz of Bombs ticked his reverberating Time.
His black powder infested blue vest
Now singed and scorched..
A belt of Bioluminescence garlanded his waist.
How smart he looked.. ready to blow up the Cafe.
Aha! That Black Coffee Powder
Was Exploding Love of Joy
Aha! That Black Gun Powder
Was Imploding Hate of Joy.
Soon there will be...
Scarlet blood spilling in smouldering slag.
Broken Glass and Bodies in pulverized roofs.
Screams of Resurrect Dreams...
He hears a faint whisper..'Son, please don't die'..
But wasn't he a Martyr.....a Superstar?
A Black Hole full of Black Powder...Near and Far...
The Supernova* waited.... to be a Dead Star...
*A Supernova Black Hole is an astronomical concept: They form when a very massive star (at least 25 times heavier than our Sun) runs out of nuclear fuel. The star then explodes as a supernova. A black hole is born when an object becomes unable to withstand the compressing force of its own gravity.
Dated 14th November,2018.
Submitted to the Black Powder Poetry Contest
Sponsor Anthony Slausen.
PLACED FIRST IN CONTEST
"One with Spice"
Flow write a scene to be seen essence
grow in a dream in fields of gold and SOL
Flows... Spice write flight though Knight's
bright light and be. Write Sees. You.
Jewel of Arrakis. Flower not brackish
in the fresh of the Spice, yes... it is nice.
Desert Rose in the nose vision flows
with sense in The Pen's essence yes.
Melange the aware bright orange in air
and sand in the hands aware of the song
Band beats in a tune sweet plants in sun
Dunes of the Gods Wind chimes.
Rhyme. New planets seen in the beam
of the mind bright Light's sight in the Spice
Dream.Writes from a Soul to be seen.
Fluorescence the color of Poetry.
In a sense...Sensitivity and specificity
Beat of the Binary, originality. Recall it
and flow with a Write to Spike it.
Flow.Spice.Write and so Be It.
Silk-
starfish
of fervent
fate weaves soft-quartz
feathers of marshmallow metaphors that
croon with firefly's fluorescence amidst life's
claustrophobic
clouds, shading
bitter
smogs
with
plush sweet-
dahlias;
And I chase light
within saffron skylines beyond dreamscapes.
A rainy night's walk: the street lights are gleaming
a dream's fluorescence in obsidian sky.
Halogen wishes are far away beaming
illumined teardrops that I refuse to cry.
All windows are dark, their silence is screaming.
Ebony trees are stiff guardians nearby.
The sidewalk in charcoal is colder than rock,
my constant companion on this midnight walk.
Low raven hedges are barriers of leaf,
marking the boundaries of family pride.
Lattices of flowers shield lifetimes of grief,
the shadowy bars that keep secrets inside.
My house is one lighted; it's my true belief
that yellows and peaches push sadness aside.
I see my porch light in distant resplendence,
a shining white angel's bright incandescence.
9th Place
Form R Contest
7/7/17
Sweet floral wine aged with a fine distinction
permeates violet fluorescence through the air
silenced souls and the years cut into the night
and wrapped about the pinkest moon reunite
Love held at bay bringing life to weathered sails
under whispered breath and last nights first kiss
eyes widen with each anxious glance embraced
as time slowly tics hearts become gallantly graced
Flushed with feelings captured in a glow anew
It's never, never too late for a love that is true
Roses are red, or purple, or pink
an artistic palette in colors that link.
Petals unfurl in radiant hues
a vibrant symphony—amor’s untamed muse.
Red blossoms, a fiery embrace
passion and love, interlaced with grace.
Their velvety touch, a tender caress
a fragrant reminder of nature’s sweet undress.
Purple fluorescence, a regal display
majestic and proud, in every array.
A royal invitation to dream and explore
in their ethereal beauty, we seek to find more.
Pink blooms, delicate and light
whispers of affection dancing in sight.
Precious and soft, they speak of affection
a symbol of romance and wholesome connection.
But colors alone do not solely define
the essence of flowers forever entwined.
For in each petal, a story is held
of love, longing, and visions quelled.
Roses are red, or purple, or pink
a kaleidoscope of emotions always on the brink.
In their enchanting presence, we find solace and peace.
A reminder of life and love’s magic release.
*I wrote this poem on January 11, 2024, as part of a ’30 days of poetry’ January challenge. This was day 11 and the prompt was: “Roses are red, or purple, or pink… “
As in crystal methamphetamine, the mind becomes cold.
Anxiety, paranoia, and schizophrenia
Creep in, like snakes and deathstalker scorpions, uncontrolled
Are bones, veins, flesh, and blood affected by asthenia?
The body begs for calm composure; the moody mind mulls.
Midst fires of optimism, the ice of pessimism melts.
Restlessness and rebelliousness resemble spineless skulls
Vandalism of vindictiveness vitiates vague vents
The feeling of freedom to fly and fervently flutter
Fill and flow flawlessly, like fine floral fluorescence.
Mild melodies of memories musically mutter
Constant conscious conscience has come to be the quintessence.
When the ice of hateful, heinous, hideous hurdles heaps
May passions of compassion flare from the depths of the deeps!
Yesterday, was an adolescent,
while we where the innocuous fluorescence that lighted up the floral hopes of the sun and transformed it's smile, into a cheerful full moon.
The sky was always brightly dressed up with colourful fireworks, and sometimes it looked overdressed, due to; too much colouration of fireworks lightning outburst.
This graced up our hearts with excessive Christmas diamond feelings.
The environment, was always busy with traditional Masquerading, carol carnivals, religious activities, youthful vigil, commitment vigilance, less happiness on clutches, less money impetuosity, less darkness but more rituals, less churches, less hunger and thunderous envy, less death, more tottering and loitering from mango tree to mango, invading people's gardens for fun.
Back then, the rich neatly did; car racing, house racing, bicycle racing and duck hunt and also watched black and white television,
but all we enjoyably did, was hide and seek, played draft and ludo game, beetle hunt and most importantly; native fowl hunt, because we didn't have to go the markets to buy native fowls, they were plenty not owned fowls to save our black and white hunger.
We also bought plenty things with just one naira note, and the balance kept coming, and we never stopped buying until our pockets purged.
Although, the money was surely more than enough to waste,
but as kids, we never got staved of spending,
this is because everything we saw, looked like waterfalls from heaven.
We took so many childhood risks; we sneaked out of school, and engaged in far journey to other States, to attend trade fairs, without money on us to shop, the only money we always had in pockets, where transport fair, which we have saved for weeks from our feeding money.
Me especially as a teenager, I preferred the forest behind my school than the classroom, because it felt to me, that I understood the language of trees, birds, and crickets, more than that of my classmates and teachers, this made me choose, 'George of the jungle', 'the gods must be crazy' and 'Going Banana' as my most adored movies.
I thunder so sadly,
because never again shall all this youthful moments and feelings, breeze by again like a born again wind.