Best Fuses Poems


Premium Member The Party

The Party


Everyone is festive
All the ladies in pretty dresses

Champagne in flutes
Flirts in Armani suits

Waiters and penguins
Serving wine and cheeses

Musicians playing tango delights
Diplomats avoiding land mines and devastated sites

I toast them, one and all
Vodka and Russians can not dance

I can drink you all, under and over
Tossing empty bottles over me shoulder

Pretty ladies and purple purses
Drunken observations as the poet muses

Who would bed me now?
So drunk and wise with broken fuses

No one, can see the poetic disguise
Of the lonely man seeking only lies

The tenderness of the Spanish kiss
Hold me, dear dream, caress me inside

The floor is full of empty plates
The party is over, so it seems is my fate

I fall asleep under a street lit lamp
The richest of bums in an old cul du sac

If only before that fateful day
I could suckle upon the breast once more

We are all infants no matter the shore
Love should never have parted out that door


Sanity was broken and tossed away like lore
I mumbled the petty desires of the broken man

I tore out my heart, bloody and beating in my hands
Laid it bare upon the sands

Coupled with crabs
The universe re-created

Eaten raw, love was consumed
New beasts shall roam

Sunken eyes and empty chest
I, am the one who is no more

Tall tails and party hats
The forgotten are never fancy cats

Until one day you meet the maker
Of your story, cooked by the baker

Ovens shall burn and choirs sing
The devil you see, had the last ring

Premium Member Autumn Fire

About the time August loses ardor, he melts into Autumn; she awakens!
Unabashed is she, this uncommon goddess, unfolding herself for all to see.
Thrilling to wind’s tempting tempo, she flutters, touching the twilight tangerine.
Unflaggingly, she undulates radiance through trees before their final undressing.
Moved by a mysterious melody, she meanders in meadows and in mists.
Nuances of feelings may come to those who hear melancholy notes.

Filling with fall fever, she fuses sky with terrain, flashing flames of persimmon.
Infatuated with her own imagination, she has ignited the world in iridescence. 
Red, russet, and gold enrich our world; we behold her ravishing array of artistry.
Exquisite is her passion as she enraptures us. Everlastingly may she reign!

11/20/2016
For the 'COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE(37) any theme any form' Poetry Contest

Premium Member Frosted

"Frosted"



A penny for your thoughts?
Scratch that thought.



Thoughts are worth more than pennies
Thoughts are legions of brilliant glistening diamonds 
shining dormant undiscovered in a deep deep dark cave
veins in the walls of The Catacombs blood art fuses lit 
burn and sizzle bright like gunpowder travelling from the Throne of Amygdala
to the Kingdom of the Pounding Scarlet Brave
beats in time with intent and purpose
when the music ceases -
TRUTH
seen very clear 
as through untainted glass
binoculars not necessary here, my dear



Windows of your soul unfrosted
Will see lost love at last



Pennies on your eyelids
mirrors covered with vintage grey
army surplus blankets
trapped in the ashes
dust to dust
open the curtains, move outwards every pain
let the Light and fresh air in



You're alive again.
Ain't that strange?

(Lovejoy-Burton/Feb 2018)


Premium Member A Quintain About a Fall Poem

Autumn Fire

About the time August loses ardor – melting into her – she awakens!
Unabashed is she, Autumn’s uncommon goddess, unfolding herself for all to see.
Thrilling to wind’s tempting tempo, she flutters, touching the twilight tangerine.
Unflaggingly, she undulates radiance through trees before their final undressing.
Moved by a mysterious melody, she meanders in meadows and in mists.
Nuances of feelings come to us when we hear its sometimes melancholy notes.

Filling with fall fever, she fuses sky with terrain, flashing flames of persimmon.
Infatuated with her own imagination, she has ignited the world in iridescence. 
Red, russet, and gold enrich our world; we behold her ravishing array of artistry.
Exquisite is her passion as she enraptures us. Everlastingly may she reign!

A Quintain About a Fall Poem

A contest that I got N/A in had inspired me
to write a new acrostic, and I did not want to stall.
Personifying autumn, I used some imagery
to portray the splendid beauty of fiery fall.
Of my last month’s poems, I felt it was the best one of them all.

Poem #1: N/A poem in the Autumn Fire Contest posted & judged 10/27/16
Reposted 11/18/16 for Broken Wing's Take The Dagger From My Heart, Please - 3 (NA's from September, October, November 2016 Contests)Poetry Contest

Premium Member The Seasons of Our Love

On summer nights
Nostalgia's muse revives
Scent of jasmine
Fig tree fragrance fuses
Memories meander 
Minty ice cream flavours 
Add sweetness to hungry kisses

Star gazing to cricket symphony
Roof top whispers of love's infinity
Days drenched with salty waves
Sun flared skin soothed
In joint showery sprinkles

Summer days, summer nights
Surges of joy, exquisite delight
Looking back, I sigh, I cry
You entwined with my summer high
And now...

Autumn in here and you are not
The nagging rain will not stop
Yet I take a walk, soaking up this misery
The smell of dead leaves turned to rot
Instead of those forget-me-nots
Fills the air
How can I not care?

What happened? How? When? Where? 
A memory sleuth, I search every moment
Empty... no clue of love's demise
Rain tears flow from my eyes
Your sensual summer vows
Forgotten somehow
And now....

I wait a brutal winter blight
with no promise of spring

Eileen Manassian

CRY NO MORE

I was lost, I was found, I was hunted, I was downed , 
Heard the screams of the whale when the harpoon has hit 
Seen the burned out congregations when the fuses were lit 
All the fury in war's faces and we're sick to death of it... 
 
I need space, I need time, show some mercy, cleanse the mind 
I have to leave all trace of that vile hatred behind 
Cry no more, no more, no more. 

We've been taken, We've been used, We've been shaken, We''ve been bruised 
Felt that look of despair in the infant's eye 
At the wrench of departure in the bittersweet goodbye 
All this cruelty in mankind just makes me want to fly 

I need space, I need time, show some mercy, cleanse the mind 
I have to leave all trace of that vile hatred behind 
Cry no more, no more, no more. 

I was blinkered, I was blind to human conduct so unkind
Seen rich lunatics shooting all the birds in the sky 
The crating up of dogs sentenced needlessly to die 
Drowned babies on some shoreline and we sit and wonder why. 

I need space, I need time, show some mercy, cleanse my mind 
We have to leave all trace of that vile hatred behind 
Cry no more, no more, no more. 

We can dream we may see better times for you and me 
Somewhere warm somewhere loving where we all live happily
In a place where our spirits and joyful hearts run free 
And we all pull together for peace, humanity... 

I need space, I need time, show some mercy, cleanse my mind 
We have to leave all trace of that vile hatred behind 
Cry no more, no more, no more.

---------------------------------------- 

SEE AND HEAR ME SING THIS ON 
YouTube: Louis Spence. Cry No More. Thank you.


Free

Poetry is spontaneous, pure, raw emotion,
don't you dare label what I say as cliche. 
This is my perspective of life in motion,
through experiences encountered day by day. 

Bleeding and leaking in the form of ink,
my mind paints a beautiful picture. 
Writing for the soul pushed to the brink. 
Joy and sorrow, such a beautiful mixture. 


Poetry fuses all emotions,
time to forget the foolish notion,
that experience stays strict to form,
Time to recreate the norm. 


Life's not in Iambic Pentameter,
but it still moves with a lyrical flow. 
What some read may come off as amateur,
To others inspire spiritual growth. 


As Autumn leaves fall,
Spring begins to blossom,
change is almost here. 


Catalyzed by thoughts shared through honest words,
emerging from the emptiness deep down,
A blank verse forged through the pain and sorrow,
Brought to the light through happiness and peace. 


Redemption echoing like a shriek in an empty house---
emptying out feelings of defeat. 
Poetry is water for the dehydrated soul---
warmth from the desolate cold. 


Such a powerful tool should not be limited,
poetry frees me so I write freely. 
Free from the burdens of stress carried for so long,
free from the bondage of guidelines to tell my story. 
I Write to inspire, to spread desire like wildfire. 

No different than mankind, poetry should by judged by its content,
the body and form are institutional nonsense.
© Sam Jacks  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Amidst Ruined Scatter, I Demise

In ruined scatter witnessing the greys into black
Why has it come to this as us humans finally lack
Through my eyes bloodied looking down on such

Crossed I've become in frenzied scarred mode
As to I I'm in awe as to the I that fuses
Centurions from Legions brave, showing confuse

To my left to my right seeing said damnest like I
In wondering their theirs as to their paraded
Mirrored like I that they require I be masqueraded 

The tolling bell has spoken as I enter my demise
As I hang above paradise seeing cawing crows fly
Images of my existence, forever, eternally why

Night Fantasies

Night Fantasies - As moonlight blankets us in passion 

Crystallized moon beams
Fractured light of endless desire
Shimmer around you as our eyes meet
Beneath a canopy of hazy luminance
Pearl buttons glisten as fingers touch
Your smile grants permission 
Leaving me breathless

Serenity of the night serenades
Our hearts beat in silent yearnings
Lips find your flesh pure
Your neck sweet of perfumed nectar
A sultry sigh floats wispily to the misty heavens
As we sit entwined neath barren branch silhouettes
Exploring each other amidst swirling winds

A foggy shroud lingers silently
Desolate this rendezvous, hidden hillside
Your dark cloak drapes me, floating quietly
Mysterious against this crushed velvet sky
As beauty falls like summer rain, 
Drenching my sight with you
Entering the realm of my longings

A full moon stares down 
Happily enchanted by our movements
As the slumbering horizon beckons
And still I gaze upward at your charm
“I love you” I sough, feeling every pulsation of affection
Blissfully seeking the depth of the evening
You peer down through hypnotic lashes

Harmonic moans sing in a sensual duet
Echoing through tree lined shadows
Increasing in tempo, you fall to my lips
Tongues dance to the melodic rapture
Fevered vibrations rhythmically sway
Clutching my arms, arching auras lift
Your hair like chocolate ribbons flowing

A shooting star trails your breathless sighs
Euphoric fuses ignite within, exploding
Illuminating your smile, your face
I rush to meet you, simultaneous sensations
Quivering stardust ecstasy shines
Collapsing into my loving arms  
As moonlight blankets us in passion    
 
 

Written for the Night Fantasies poetry contest
Inspired by the top photo on the contest page
Sponsored by Mystic Rose


Good Night Soupers

What Is Love

I'm blessed to have you,
But I'm cursed to love you.
I don't want to fall in love again....
Or maybe I do?
But the thought terrifies me.
You don't feel the same?

I'm blessed to have you,
But I'm cursed to love you.
What is love?
I don't even know anymore.
I used to think love was like glue.
It links your mind to another's.
It fuses you to their hip.
Your hands can't stay away.
Your hands can't get a grip on reality.

I'm blessed to have you,
But I'm cursed to love you.
Your mind paints a pretty picture of the future.
You don't wanna get your hopes up,
But you can't help it.
You want to give them the world.
You want to sacrifice all of yourself.
You do exactly what you want to do.

I'm blessed to have you,
But I'm cursed to love you.
Cursed to love you because I can't have you.
Paradoxical and inexplicable, oh well.
I'll learn to deal....

Premium Member Soul Slipper

Twilight downs the sun as dreams appear on the screen of sleep

Slips into the subconscious realm and trips a few fuses in slumber

Adapts and clears clutter and narrates and alters the story in kind

Strips and clips a mind full of sentience like an ad-blocking app

When dreams slip into a magical edition it proofreads my soul


In magic Morpheus tenders to soft renditions and rehearses

A new dawn for sanity’s sake and rearranges bedlam in silence

Ties new meaning to fake news and spins alignments afresh

Compounds and rearranges while the curtain slowly descends

A dress rehearsal in night gown patiently waits for the curtain


A sacred orange globe dances with ripples dissected by clouds

Ultramarine parades on the fading horizon of tangerine canvas

As the gatekeeper confers with clairvoyants and hobbling goblins

The mermaids charter the voyage with sea gulls and dolphin as they

Tie holy knots onto the tapestry of fabrication and spirited truths


Sometimes my aspirations and recollections call for clean slates

When charcoal rules anthracite waves draped in sombre veils

Or polychrome splashes beg to hold on to the palette forever

Sleep brushes over karma and vagaries and tames with a stroke

Of restful fortune in infinite renditions of what the future might hold


A life line appears on the horizon anchoring a courageous flare

Regardless of whether my journey explores a secret underworld

Or ships critique onto the blatantly obvious faults in the vessel

Poseidon pumps up the raft as tears and regrets rock the boat

Blows caution to the wind and advises to hold on for dear life


Neptune challenges his counterpart and weighs for good measure

Yet Atlantis refuses to sink and Nirvana sweeps the ocean’s floor

Phoenix gathers soaked ashes while jetsam jumps into the current

When the night parades its blessing the sun resets a new dawn

The moon watches over assorted memories baggage and hope


19th April 2020

Vox Sforzando

I murmur like a rivulet through the 
hitch of your hands, where the canyons 
carve their parched longing into your fingers—
where silences sublimate like cera,
pooling beneath your glissando touch.

Your tremolo breath convulses rough and low
like sibilant submersion in water—
spilling, sinking, staining everything it meets.
I watch the estuary of your gaze split my horizon—
watch you hush abysmal eyes into 
celestially arched surrender.

There is no stillness between starlight, 
only the pull of mighty magnitudes,
fuses lit beneath the ribs,
pulses and throbs teaching the air 
how to cleave—how to… 
sforzando!

Love, here, is neither reserved nor reticent—
it is lightning bottled in glass—
hellfire burning beneath the tide—
language that deconstructs 
even as it is uttered.

I step forward—some faltering cadence,
some submitting ascension—placing my hands into your fire,
not to be consumed, but to remember 
how stars revel and rain.

Premium Member Different strokes

(Our differences are like the pieces of a puzzle called life)

What does humanity want from life, it’s puzzling to know
Peace signs, Daisy cutters, find Jesus in the afterglow 
Seek out seventy two virgins, priming fuses to blow?
Come together in jannah, with a godlike libido

Write painstaking poetry, devoid of human ego
Kill every known disease, have a chat with a mosquito
Build a chocolate empire, watch fatty deposits grow 
Start a protein only diet, get ripped from head to toe?

View b movie stars at night, (censure) the matinee show
Have no more hangovers, enjoy life utterly blotto
Bring back prohibition, replace it with a pink benzo?
Smoke marijuana safely, vaporise tobacco

Play chess at home with the wife, or away with a bimbo
Give a hand to starving wolves, then go howl out the window 
Let a child get carried away, not by some wild dingo?
Set the bar high enough, flambé for a life of limbo

Privelidge

Privelidge
By LoLa

Sometimes all you have is piercing darkness
The kind that fuses with the echoes of every lost kiss
It Fuses to your pores; reminds you of the score
Surviving wounds deep in the core; the girl I never was before

Surviving myself is such a stupid dance; left only to chance
While Poverty has molded me by circumstance
Depending on blissful thoughts pierced by my lonely heart
Maybe, somehow, theres a way to slay the fire that lives in the dark

Leave me in peace; a simple tranquility
Spare the memories and degrees of rage in the sea
Letting go of it all; the life that I never lived
So give me chaos and a blinding light and the sweet relief of lost privelidge
© Laura Dee  Create an image from this poem.

Tonight I write of righting


Not the wisping grasp against the parchment
That licking click of writer as he tpyes
The cold inanimates touch of skin on screen
Memories only shorter I eye aye the Scottish yes
Scrapes and scrawls on cave dwelt walls
Truncated truck trimmed in intricate trestles
Who was the first message in a bottle for
Bobbles of sheerest ink like Scottish lochs
as.morning mists turn solid for a movement
I enjoy being wrong
Keeping pictures of the dead to the soon to be
Words the unleashed an atom
Words that end wars
illlusions putting fuses to the con
My muse has left
So I better be …….gon

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