Best Foams Poems
I am a wave.
From far I come to you
Swimming with desire.
In wild curls I come,
Riding with music,
Travelling on sunbeams.
Within my hidden folds,
I carry the thoughts of love,
Wishing to rest on the shore.
Lashing playfully, I come,
Looping into a sensational hug!
But how sad, I can only embrace you
Just for a brief moment!
Over our heads, seagulls wing.
Around us, soapy foams giggle.
In wild ecstasy, I roar,
Crashing my head on your breast.
But I am made to drift away,
Leaving nothing behind,
But a stretch of dampened sand,
Reminding that we have once met.
Can I ever hold you again?
Wish I could once more,
Rush into your arms.
Sometimes I feel,
I am on an eternal journey.
With desires unappeased,
I continue traveling miles.
Let us be a pair of seagulls,
Flying in tandem, you forever,
Staying close to me,
With your wind under my wings!
Categories:
foams, love, sea,
Form:
Free verse
Oceana
Oceana flings her sequined petticoats
Upon the sands as if to toss the seaweed
From the swirling edges
While she dances with the wind
With each turn she swings her skirts
In thunder
As she passes – faster, faster -
Until her laughter foams upon the waves
And in the early midnight dawns
She turns to cover up
Her turquoise evening gown
With capes of fog so thick
The soaring gulls seem to carry
This her summer train
To quickly change into a dress of silver satin,
Bound with trims of frothy sprays,
Rising and swelling,
When morning reaches for windy afternoons,
She teases sudden lightning outbursts
Leaving behind upon the outstretched strands
A foaming lace of pearls
That decorate her new rippling dress
Of brilliant sapphire blue
Drawing it around the world in flowing currents
To follow, ever follow, the lilting music
Of her lover moon,
Softly singing enchanted melodies,
Ever beckoning his earthbound bride unto himself
To watch her gaily waltz upon the rolling seas
Circling to his rune.
8-22-25
3rd - Rob Carmack Premiere VIII
6-29-22 - N/A
Contest: Marathon Mile Five
Sponsor: Mark Toney
8-13-22 -
5th - Poetry Marathon Mile 12
Sponsor: Mark Toney
6/20/19
On Top 100 All Time Poems list
1st - Trophy Win - Juliet Lingon
1st - Julia Ward 11/29/20
1st - Brian Strand 1/14/20
Featured Poem 5/2/21
Included in Poetry Soup Anthology #2 - It's Still Poetry
Included in CWC Anthology - First Prize Winner Independent Publishers Award
Indie Press Awards
Categories:
foams, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Free verse
"Before a leaf-bud has burst, its whole life acts; in the full-blown flower there is no more, in the leafless root there is no less" - Ralph Waldo Emerson
I'm a sunflower,
dipped in honey of
bittersweet bronze smiles,
admiring its soulmate
strolling around the sun,
in sombre shine of
eclipsed dawn, whilst
these faes lure poisoned
pollens with flaming
ruby red ocean foams,
And I see a peculiar
patchwork on knitted
canopies, which are
sprouting clayey hearts
out of crimson crooned
willow branches.
Crumbling to pixies,
falling lifeless like fragile
leaflets in autumnal carols,
I believe, twin flame
telepathy is a souvenir
of roses and thorns,
which emerges as wanton
wildfire on the brim of
ocean's moon-song
in mellifluous mystery,
outlining turmoil in
turquoise land of trolls.
For, magnetised feathers
on matte lips always get
soaked in ashey sighs
of regret, whenever
bewitching conspiracy
of his amethyst eyes,
befalls in dialects of
forest's echoes and the
brittle skin of basilisk
slithers with a deadly gaze
upon my mulberry heart.
Chasing seasonal winds,
I became the fading mist
that succumbs to the
sheath of amber rays,
infusing in my lungs,
and suffocating my love for life;
Amidst these broken skies,
you left shadows of
pencil-sketched debris,
that float like wisps
of faulty daffodils,
distorting my dreams
and twisting thy truths,
in hellfire horizon that
sets our graves apart,
beyond million miles of
satanic soliloquies.
Categories:
foams, angst, dark, deep, emotions,
Form:
Free verse
Oh, Poisiden, you disrupt my sea;
Alter not your color for the likes
Of miserable me;
Your mouth foams in revelry
As I gasp desperately for
One remaining breath;
My rosary floats upon your
Fickle friendship of fury,
For your whims leave me
With goose flesh as
The grapevine wraps itself
Around my throat ~
I bear witness to antiquated
Notes which deceive;
The tongue of thy counterpart
Scorches this bosom...
Nevermore do I grieve,
Yet I swim vainly;
The chastity belt on land
It does remain,
Drowned dreams of delusion ~
Un- new;
I lurk within the shadow of
Door number two.
Categories:
foams, introspection, loss, mystery, sad,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
My being rises beyond hills or feathers gliding
deepened by silence immense,
where in peak of light anointed
through soul union--
the grail of non- resistance widens
Beyong boundless path,
a haloed center drifting on
A meditative space unmapped by this world:
I am at risk of a swarming flight into nothingness
shapeless, changeless: there is no finality
into this final release, only a blaze of discernment,
greeting the god within...that in the absence
of the. mind's overtures ,
an inner sanctuary divine wraps me quiet...
while I become nothing but whole.
This sitting takes me to an attic of raw light
bestowing foams of quiet glow for travelers
unyielding to a precise compass
of direction, a spaceless space nourished as it
were, losing the self to Bodhi-like clouds
and nomadic lotus spreads. I release this soul
buried in the kundalini to a congregation
of ambient tunes saying nothing,
taking flight unto a hymn of
unknown obedience moved by elemental
balance: no more weight or cities divided,
united by forms of one, one core.
My malleable flesh dissolves into tiny
breaths; it comes and leaves with
floating grace ascending the next chi ,
as I go deep, deeper… high, higher
centering second, fourth, seventh chakra
until this my body- mind- spirit marries
in a ceremony of calm traversing zones
unnamed by time, one with all senses,
bliss or regrets… the airiness of journeying
through this unshaped season fed by something
unbidden in my life so blessed.
I step outside my body, somewhere…
without a trace that realms chop my head,
searching for a mantra of stars… stillness fed.
* chi – life energy
* kundalini--a force which ordinarily
rests at the base of the spine.
*chakras-major centers of spiritual power
Roy Jerden’s Religious Poetry: Non-Christian
Buddhism
10/18/2014
Categories:
foams, encouraging, peace, spiritual,
Form:
Light Verse
Flickering in the night, a melting’s texture of regrets afterglow,
Candlelight’s waxed drippings staining the white laced table cloth,
Yet in the black and white photo album of the timeless, it is a
Pressed flower of remembrance, never to be forgotten,
In the days of wine and roses.
As champion kisses are exchanged between the
Youthful hearts of the innocent, another cork
Is popped, in this cozy interlude of memory’s repast,
Shattered lies this tempered fragile glass, smashed
Against the fireplaces inner mantel, leaving a frothy
Foams liquid behind, causing the crackles embers to
Burn higher with passions flame,
In the days of wine and roses.
Hand cut floral arrangements, plucked apart
Then tossed asunder, a petals trail to silken sheets
Of pleasure, sorrow’s bedding is lined with feathers
Down, angel wings tender sheathing to protect the
Wounded child of innocence, curled inside perfection’s
Illusionary dream, evolving into a flowering silhouette of
Womanhood.
In shad’s refection of repose, she weeps thus diamond
Tears that float away amongst the Lilley thorns, within the
Rippling pool of the timeless,
Oh those were the farewells for-get-me-knots,
To those days of wine and roses.
Valentines shaped boxes shredded into confections confetti,
Thrown into the air of clarity at the ticker tape parade
Of the broken heartbeat, as it explodes into a zillion pieces,
Tissues spent candy wrappers used to wipe away, moistures
Sorrows of regrets folly, thus the tender reed bends into
The winds of emotion,
Behold the tokens price of loves devotion,
Back in the days of wine and roses.
Vintage bouquets of elegance, tarnished with age,
Yet still retaining lusters shine of everlasting beauty,
The faithful clinging to the shadows of the past,
Hopes dreaming romantic, waltzing in rheum with
Memories of illusion, showered by petals of color,
From those days of wine and roses.
Flickering in the night, a melting’s texture of regrets afterglow,
Candlelight’s waxed drippings staining the white laced table cloth,
Yet in the black and white photo album of the timeless, it is a
Pressed flower of remembrance, never to be forgotten,
In the days of wine and roses.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUN
Categories:
foams, art, beauty, devotion, emotions,
Form:
Free verse
Crying in the Rain
Lurking behind the curtain of world war ;
You cheer to a Monday Night Raw;
Dancing to the melody of anarchy;
You close your senses to impending waterloo,
Completely deaf to the screams of mother earth
Who is subdued by industrial rape; she echoes dearth...
Forlorn sky weeps on; threatening oxygen depletion at the detriment of ocean life.
Father sun rages on; amidst earth's strife...
Refugee camps replace loving homes;
And mats replace comforting foams
Chibok continues to wail for her missing daughters;
As valiant khakis rummage the forest of Sambisa...
The mantra of change echoes on amidst chains:
As a fraction of the world cry in the rain...
Flora and fauna looks on in docility,
As humanity continue to dance to the melodies of calamity.
Categories:
foams, abuse,
Form:
Heroic Couplet
The see-saw backsides of obesity traverse across the promenade
Led by bustling torpedo breasts thrusting through the hustling throng;
Past tarnished chromium espresso bars, burger vans with frying lard,
Ice cream parlours, sagging deckchairs and the sunlight blazing on.
Splayed upon the greying sands with butts of cigarettes in shallow graves,
Bikini babes in thin floss thongs, sun oil basted, lie and fry,
The effluence of sewage farms foams ochre crests upon the waves,
Cheap sunglasses and tinted shades warp vision as the seagulls cry.
Or are they coughing in the choking rise of hotdog onion smoke,
Or searing blast of diesel oil drove upwards from the fairground sprawl,
And do they dive for fish and chips discarded by the glutted folk
Until cholesterol weighs them down and they no longer fly but crawl?
Oh, I did like to be beside the seaside in the golden memories of my youth,
Before the tattooed mobs and greedy slobs and moguls came to town,
And though rose-tinted, real dreams of childhood wonder sing of truth,
But now I’d much prefer it if they torched and burned the whole place down.
Categories:
foams, parody, people, places, sea,
Form:
Verse
Wind breeze rustling up leaves
Earth with grass do caress your feet
Waves are like coffee foams in a huge ocean mug
Your hands submerged and wet
You swimming in a lagoon, then a riverbed
Look up to see, tall snowy hills like icy iceberg tips
Valleys filled with a myriad of animals; natural is at rest in its nest
Flowers, flush and blush in their seasonal best
All creatures are at peace;
Visualize paradise and enjoy it there
Categories:
foams, appreciation, autumn, creation, nature,
Form:
Imagism
As I wend my way around curving roads
up high into the mountains
I finally arrive at the Eight Gables Inn.
I wonder what it is that drives me here!
Perhaps I have developed wings
and flew across the Atlantic towards
The Great Smoky Mountains
on my adventurous ride
to the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Tired I hope the Inn
will live up to its reputation.
The sun is setting as I view
the purple orange skies darken,
whilst here and there lights
in desolate cottages twinkle in the dark.
I hasten to my private bath
and slowly sink in the warm water,
overpowered by the smell of soapy foams.
Pleased with my silky skin
I put on a plush bathrobe
luxuriously enjoying the feel
of the soft fabric against my spores,
and with a graceful dive find myself
on top of a feather-top bed.
This is the life of luxury...
Until I feel the taste of blotting paper
that cover my whole mouth.
I open my eyes and know
it was all a dream, alas.
Categories:
foams, adventure, appreciation,
Form:
Free verse
Something is happening there now
I know it, I can hear the lane full
Of children's voices, the lowing cow
Tramples on the peanut hull,
But not that, not that common routine
And not the buckets sitting still
On the kottas, nor Lawford in the ravine
And his cart rumbling up the hill
Not the blowing horn of the coming bus
And children running from far away
To reach the schoolhouse through the dust
Before the bus passes them in delay
Something is happening there, I know
I can hear the dogs barking now
And there among them my Benbow
Midst sticks supplied by the wounded bough
The mongoose will not escape today
Melbourne is putting fire in the pingwing patch
And I am here so far away
Now that my hens can lay and hatch
O deep in my blood, Jamaica is calling
Her golden breast foams in the mouth of the sea
And blue her mountains rise in the morning
Deep in her arms I long to be.
Categories:
foams, nature, places, uplifting
Form:
Rhyme
IT STILL MOVES
the earth complains
of heartburn in California
ulcers in Iraq
chicken pox in Afghanistan
sneezes and wheezes hurricanes in Atlantic
acid reflux somewhere in Mexico
it has chills at the poles
fever at the equator
sweats at the tropics
shakes all over in Japan
severe dry skin in Sahara and Gobi
vomits monsoon rains in India
its cells are dying in the Dead Sea
it foams at the Yellow River
in Venice it has a sunken feeling
some scars still hurt in Hiroshima
you’d think that the earth suffers –
it just lives the way it knows
and everything is normal
as it was a hundred years ago
or a thousand
or a million
if it complains
it’s just to grab our attention
the earth was a show off from the beginning –
it put itself together with a Big Bang
Categories:
foams, earth,
Form:
Blank verse
She walks barefooted in spiny shore
as dusk descends to snatch her heart;
Bloody feet turn curling foams
into hot crimson red~
melting her footprints
and her wild dreams
into smoke
that kills
her.
She
dances
with the moon
as the tide dries;
Her dolesome heart hails
on nocturnal murmurs
echoing from northern lights
as seabirds return to their nests;
She jumps in and succumbs to the sea.
14 June 2021
All Yours (June 14) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
1st place
Categories:
foams, self, sorrow,
Form:
Nonet
k i n d n e s s
is the petrichor perfume
enveloping the sky,
between~
you and I
as clouds splatter juniper sprinkles,
coalescing stubborn storms,
rinsing away stained foams
with raining roses,
serenading hymns of heaven,
calming the internal conflicts
like soft rays of morning stars…
Tonight, I follow the distant sirens,
echoing sagas of the soothing sun,
seeking c o m f o r t
through soft feathers,
unfurling love laced in lilac
and lavender,
while candles and crystals
radiate radiant rubies,
elevating elegance,
enhancing z e s t.
For in the corners of my heart~
thrive twinkling tendrils
of tulip twilight,
wishing upon swirling sparks
of firefly wings;
'let this world be a diamond haven,
where compassion is the dialect
that eases thunder-struck seas..'
So remember…
I’ll be there when curtains close.
Listen to the breeze
carrying my prose,
written with timeless glitters.
Tell me that I am the name,
the crooning tern that glides above
resilient ripples’ whispers.
Tell me that the mauve moon
veiled in mellow mists
reminds you of me…
as I still weave k i n d n e s s
in kaleidoscopic ink,
to erase the darkness
that f a l l s upon your silken silhouette.
Categories:
foams, moon, remember,
Form:
Free verse
Sky weeps, I was collecting clouds
from stillness of the sea.
A snake again wants to kiss,
I am learning to die
in arms of spiral mirrors.
Cannot forgot the cheating of umbrellas.
The stings, the twists, the hollow breads.
Foams are submitting the venoms
on golden plates.
I grieve for the dignity of a hangman.
The retreat leaves the blood
on the stones. My house was burning.
Will you marry me ? I ask the dew
sitting on the grass. Don’t go
back to the sun.
A relentless bucket fills up, again
I am watching at the moon.
The icy sand, the fire, the heat.
Flowers will hunt the thorns
at rooftops of sleep.
SATISH VERMA
Categories:
foams, life, love, peace, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse