Best From Poems


The View From a Window

A view of the ragged woodland from
The window:-
Slender branched trees that shed
From high above to low below;
The faint, mauven peaks
Smattered with barely visible
Scatterings of drifted snow;
Across the matted undergrowth
A bronzed carpet of copper coloured
Leaves
Whose rusting hue, 
Momentarily ignited by stray 
Sunbeams weakly smouldering,
Briefly refurbished -
Deceives with all the colours of a
Rainbow...
From vibrant red through to shy
Hints of indigo;
Those vague outlines indicating 
Receding hills;
Here, arising, long ago, every waking 
Dawning,
The creaking structures
Of groaning and imposing mills;
Soon a slow thawing that quickly 
Spills 
Into the trickling replenishments 
Of many gushing and silvery little 
Rills.


Enchantment gripped me!
And I found myself wistfully 
Thinking...
Maybe, perhaps, maybe, somewhere,
Just behind where the great 
Flattening Orb
Is now rapidly shrinking,
That I might, by perchance, find, 
If I did so hope to bravely dare,
To happen upon a hidden and 
Sedentary way of life up there?
That, forgotten, has turned its 
Back on the social conflicts 
Plagued by the curses of ingrained
Vice;
Encumbering a soul with its petty 
Squabblings,
Imposing upon with demands and
Avarice...
When placing unnecessary burdens 
On a honest bodies daily call
Of grinding toil and wearisome 
Strife!


And still stood, 
With hands outstretched upon the
Painted sill,
At the waist half-bent,
Now troubled by quiet mutterings
In an inexplicable sorts
Of self-imposed discontent,
My staid consciousness almost 
Unawares, 
As, momentarily distracted,
I hesitated, and, unseeing, 
Inattentively stared...
Until...
A ragged chapter of cawing Daws,
Loudly jabbering overhead,
Suddenly wheeled -
And upwardly soared!
Whereupon, in murderous haste,
Awkwardly fled
When laboriously stealing away
Back inside the stubbled fields...
Thus causing me to slowly straighten;
Whilst, with a singular heartfelt pang,
Liken a moorland mist slowly rolling
Over 
That indivisibly conceals...
Drew shut the sullen curtains, which, 
Heavily embroidered with indeterminate 
finality,
Dejectedly hang...
Each draped aside of the cold 
Reveals.

Premium Member View It From Afar

To appreciate our planet,
begin with its snowcapped mountains:
where sunbeams morph crystals of ice
into gems of glistening light.

See pink clouds hover in the skies,
afloat on a vista of blue:
and a setting sun smear scarlet,
onto puffs of marshmallow white.

And jungles, at its equator:
create a sash of vibrant greens;
while burnt sands ripple Earth's deserts,
with shifting dunes of tans and creams.

Watch Earth's leafy forests change from
deciduous to evergreen:
and tundra, pitted with blue lakes,
fade to stretches of virgin snow.

And volcanoes erupt in flames
spewing plumes of ebony smoke:
as lava bleeds from gaping wounds,
while giving birth to molten Earth.

See cobalt and aquamarine
waves, crested with white foamy froth:
and two tilted poles, capped in ice,
sparkle, like crystalline jewels.

View it from afar, as it twirls	
within the vacuum of space:
like a phantasmagorical
cerulean marble: called Earth.

Premium Member In a Sad Blindness, One May Yet Find Hope

In A Sad Blindness, One May Yet Find Hope
           (The Solemn Prayer)

Raining splashing, fierce winds blowing and huge trees sway
I pray not for all this, on some other black day
With dark blue shadows plotting my early demise
I seek deep wisdom from sages worldly and wise
Not just some clever words to soothe this shattered heart
Instead sweet hope, light in words, to this life restart
With power to waken these world-blinded closed eyes
Stop salty tear drops falling from splintered skies.

On this day, life should see past these looming black-storms
Find solace in love, hope and my loving wife's arms
Yet that stone wall, yields to nothing but great power
Far more than this broken soul can muster this hour
When thus lost, can one ever find again that Light
Healer of dagger stabbed wounds, found on a dark night
I pray, gift wisdom to walk that one true-lit path
Release this sad soul from, this evil, wicked wrath.

Raining splashing, fierce winds blowing and huge trees sway
I pray not for all this, on some other black day
With dark blue shadows plotting my early demise
I seek deep wisdom from sages worldly and wise
Not just some clever words to soothe this shattered heart
Instead sweet hope, light in words, to this life restart
With power to waken these world-blinded closed eyes
Stop salty tear drops falling from splintered skies.

Robert J. Lindley, 2-07-2017

Syllables Per Line: 
12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 12 12 12 12
Total # Syllables: 288
Total # Words: 225

Note-  I decided to write this poem, this morn. About half had already been composed in my head yesterday afternoon and I finally sat down now to put pen to paper.
Believe me, in that it was not an easy task to finish this and be satisfied with the results.
Maybe I am just tired and stopped because of that.
I don't know. Maybe on another day, I could have and would have thought this lacking and rewritten it..
But today, I have only enough to say, this is as it is(and thus it may stay), hope you may find it agreeable and not fault me too much .......


Premium Member Pardon From the Storm

Take my heart and carry me
to where all dreams are born.
Into loves arms, oh such a place
that's always safe and warm.
Away from such deceitful lairs
where blackened virtues swarm.
into a light where peace must shine
and grants us pardon from a storm.

High above the mountain tops
or low as low can be.
Makes no difference where we are
a wondrous lyric calls to me.
Singing of your splendor
like a miracle performed.
I'll stay with you to find the port
that grants us pardon from a storm.


POTD 03/03/2018

Premium Member The Editing of Me

My words were rewritten until they became yours
As grammar and syntax perfected your thoughts
Pages lined with highlighters polished me to extinction 

I wanted to resist all of those good intentions
Yet I knew you wanted your best words for me
You weren't listening so you couldn't hear what I was asking for
Poor boy me I lacked the courage to say it loud enough
I felt my voice become tiny as my heart disappeared

Sure my words were somewhat awkward
Still I had things to express that way
My rhythm was imbedded in the word play
You crumbled my granite and turned it into clay
It happened slowly a bit day by day 

I was there hidden in the disconnected details
Crystal blue eyed observations to share
Becoming myself on the verge of aware
You could have found me there
My words weren't lacking weight or substance
Like a series of road signs I pointed in a certain direction
I wasn't looking for polished perfection
What I desired most was emotional connection!

The trip must have seemed hard
You couldn't see past the curves in my road
It was to difficult to decipher my emotional code
So instead you bulldozed through my mind
with a big truck weighted with your own heavy load

If only you could have lingered and waited
Maybe you could have been sated
My words were interplayed and related
The strength of your ego I had not anticipated
In your wake I was left dejected and frustrated

There had been points of interest along the way
sprinkled star dust amidst the Milky Way
Beneath were gardens in which you could have come to play
There was no rush, I wanted you to stay
Until my liquid thoughts were morphed into hay

There before you
I had erected statues of delight 
adorned in billowing fabric made of light 
Perhaps you were blinded by my bright
unexpected in the middle of the night

You could have occupied my pleasure
Below my surface a spring fed treasure
A gift for you beyond measure
You could have witnessed the essence of me
Even though you came so close
you just couldn't see...

This is an old one that I have significantly reworked.

Premium Member They Told Me You Cried

They told me you cried on the day I died
A sob splintering through a silent dome
Your sorrow a shroud on the catacomb
As I laid where birds no longer replied
Now I watch as you slowly search the beach
For those rare shells edged in liminal blue
I would gift you that impossible hue
To show I was within sight, within reach

Yet I wish you more than what shadows grant
A life in the sun of a springtime glen
Not lost in the gloom of my grave's abyss
Let my legacy be the hope you plant
Blooming with the courage to love again
If you will keep something of me - keep this


Premium Member From My Porch

After the end of a long hot day
At the end of my rope  with nerves all frayed
I sat on the porch to rest a spell
As the sun slipped  slowly behind the hill

Calmed by the lingering after glow
I watched the summer night unfold
 
Crimson streaks...on a sky of blue
Melted in a thousand different hues
Got lost in the dark without the light
Leaving just their shadows in the night

And in fields of clover across the way
The crickets began their serenade
As fireflies danced with sheer delight
Glowing…in love with this summer night

And there ahead...at the end of the road
Above the bridge where the river flows
It rose like magic before my eyes
An orange moon so big it filled the sky

Premium Member Thoughts From the Battlefield

In sandy dunes on my back I lie
Dreaming of warm beaches, blue sky
And a girl named Lorelei
On memories I fly 
War seen from on high
I vow to try
Not to cry
As I
Die



Written November 5, 2019
For the Rhyming Nonet contest.

Premium Member Violin Notes Fall From Heaven No More

Her trembling twilight 
dims with streaking purple tears
bruised by youthful years of bleeding pain
hurting but never hugged—
locked in arms of atmosphere’s apathy
that smeared with fiendish fingers
a contusing plum palette
across any hope in her godforsaken horizon—

this sorrowful songbird 
who sings with the shattered purity 
of violin strains falling from Heaven
finds her bemoaning musical notes adrift—
lost on breezy deaf days
as she is once again thrown down 
from the self-serving skyscape 
by the hateful hands of wildcat winds.

In the deep inkwell
of lullaby-less lonely nights
where never a tender nursery rhyme
has ever set her free
are memories scribed of storm-battered days
and weighing heavily on Libra’s scales
are the injustices 
of dreams she will never live
nor flights of fancy she will never take
as her sire of solar scorch and temper flare
—a warpath warrior against her springtime
sleeps soundly on a bloated bed
over-stuffed with betrayal and broken promises
while her merciless maternal moon— 
distant and cloud covered
does not bother to wander the coal haze
with a lantern’s sharp beam 
to cut through stranglehold-folds of darkness 
to cast a light upon; to rescue her fractured form— 

an angel beckons as breath and beat fade
her guardian as she passes through Earth's shadow
beyond the coldness of mother-moon's umbra 
following to where warm sugar-stars soprano sing.

Tonight— a stricken sparrow 
folds her fledgling wings never to fly again…
will land or air ever miss her?

Premium Member Treasure In Adversity

i am no longer
lost in the labyrinth
of your twisted mentality

i kiss the lips of freedom

once you drove
me insane in the brain
now stubborn stains wash away

i will never bleed again

as i liberate my mind
from your shackles of sorrow
my suppressed spirit soars

watch me fly

i collect every
shattered shard of hope
place them in my heart

my faith heals each crack

for all the tongues silenced
all the hearts broken
i fail to hate you

i thank you for the lessons

pangs of passion
refuel a desire to dream
as flames rekindle

no rain can extinguish

yesterday i fell
like sunset in a storm
today i am a tropical sunrise

there is treasure in adversity

simple musing
silent one
17 November 2019
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

Why Must I Cry

I come to the garden along, while the dew is still fresh
on the meadows. Early in the morning do the bird's sing
praises of roses and peddles.  I cry, because there is no
refuge finally from the pain.  
    Yet long ago, a child was born, to become king, and yes
there is hope, just for believing in his name. Where is this King!
when I'm hurting and alone? He's just a prayer away, don't give
up, for he's Alpha and Omega, which means, just be strong!.
So they sent me to a place, to turn my life around. I cry, be-
cause, I am somebody no longer am I bound.
     Now I know that Jesus is my refuge and no more drugs is
there for I. Thank you Lord, for the method, that's "Why Must
I Cry".

Premium Member Visits from Heaven




                 Was it really you dad? Not merely just a dream,

                           Your wisdom pouring forth to me,

                                Oh dad, how real it seemed.
                 
                               You always knew so much dad,

                               I so respected you. When they

                                  Said that you had cancer,

                                    I thought it was untrue.


                               You were too strong to die dad,

                                You fought with all your might,

                                But Papa, how I long to dream 

                                       Again, of you tonight.

  
                                   Tell me daddy, that it's true,
                                
                                That dream I had of me and you,

                                Again, like old days, sitting there,

                              Those silver strands within your hair.

                              A crown of wisdom round your head

                          And wisdom's spoke, those words you said.


                               I know some dreams are only dreams,

                                    But dad, that seemed so real.

                                      A gift from heaven's angels,

                                      For my broken heart to heal.


                                 You were loved too much to die dad,

                                         And oh, I miss you so!

                                    So, visit me in dreams, Papa,

                                          Until my turn to go.

Premium Member Letter from the Grave

Is the ship
still in its bottle..

Have your lips 
become dry,
tired from yearning.
Do you still wear 
my sage shirt.

Are you still crying,
are all those tears for me..

Are you still reading the silent one?
Did you write me one last poem
or is your poetic garden full of decay?

Do you ever hear my voice
echo in the silence.
Turn around when 
you feel my presence?
Do you call my name,
forgetting I'm no longer there..
Have you lost hope,
wondering where I am,
if I'm watching from up above?

Are you still hiding,
tired from smiling,
still pretending.
Has life lost substance?

Those shattered pieces of glass
do they still reflect regret,
is your heart heavier than a cliché
resembling fragments of stone,
do you look back at the footsteps in the sand?

Do you listen to our songs,
the ones we forgot to sing,
where I was the chorus
to the rhythm of your heartbeats.
Am I still your journal?

Does sunset still have meaning,
do you sit there cursing the Gemini moon,
does June still have a purpose?

In episodes of rage
are you angry that 
I could not fulfil my promise,
do you hate me for being gone
blame me for destroying our dreams,
am I the reason you feel trapped?

Did you cry upon my grave,
place a carnation upon
the soil which has buried me
or do you never visit?

.... Do you still love me?
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member A Gift From God - A Sonnet

I am a wish, a prayer, from mortals lips
That reached heaven and  touched God’s fingertips
And returned to earth wrapped in flesh and blood
A gift from God’s unconditional love

So love and cherish me as God does you
And guide and teach me well in all I do
And together, a garden we will grow
Filled with the fragrant beauty of the rose

And on the day I reach maturity
And feel the need like leaves to leave the tree
To show the world the colors that are  me
Rejoice in all the beauty that you see

For I am your  child the gift that God gave
No More than a wish and a prayer -  away.

Premium Member View From the Prism of 'Ism'

socialism  communism  fascism   despotism
  buddhism  catholicism  hinduism  zoroastrianism  
territorialism  colonialism   imperialism   expansionism
positivism  relativism  behaviorism  existentialism 
  adventurism  escapism  negativism  nihilism
puritanism   fanaticism   extremism  terrorism
   sexism  chauvinism  ultra-nationalism  jingoism
hedonism  epicureanism ~ stoicism  asceticism
   patriotism  heroism  altruism  idealism
activism  idealism  individualism  exceptionalism
  atheism  deism  monotheism   paganism
optimism  pessimism  cynicism  romanticism
  atheism secularism  humanism  utopianism  
hypnotism  mysticism  exorcism  surrealism 
   ~ and what if there were a schism in each and every 'ism!'

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