Best Glace Poems
Life is not as sweet as a bowl of golden glace cherries,
nor is there a golden illuminated future for a fruitless mind.
Trembling hands and gritted teeth disguise my disorderly brain,
feeling lost in the mist,
surrounded by drowned out voices.
Deceptive chanting charms plant everyday confusion,
with stalking emotions running through my mind's corridors,
carrying a voice that gives birth to eerie echoing funnels,
pumping frustrating thoughts deep into the depths of phobias.
My demeanour hides behind a canvass of mysteries.
a pure transfiguration, where compulsive obsession
takes possession of stalking my vulnerable affections.
There's too much repetition in the fluidity of periods and seasons,
as I lose this battle to control my will's strength of life.
I constantly wonder if the only place of victory,
to find peace,
is to slay silent intoxicating depths,
which desire to explore me.
But in reality despise me with conflicting contradictions unable
to stop my puzzled conscious suffocating from over analysing,
enslaving excessive dwellings from every aspect of my existence.
Life is not a jigsaw,
I do not have the energy to find every piece.
My soul's fine heaven is rimming with untold tales of nature,
but misjudged precious intentions result in distracted actions.
An angst which has no remedy as all scars remains unseen.
But my Fears are made into gems,
when alone with my nemesis,
an unwanted life long partner
feeding upon deranged dilemmas,
which keep my mind,
spiralling in circles of uncertainties.
So the time has come
The silent letter with loud words has arrived
Hurting my pride making me cry a river
The morning chirping of the summer birds -
It’s as though they have stopped, my heart has dropped
I’ve lost the fight, I’ve lost my pride
Rushes of sadness anchor me down for the long ride
So slow and yet so fast and so completely out of control-
Where to go what to do?
Now I have to pack my life, into a box
Take what I can and let the rest standing-
Standing carelessly somewhere in the open air where people will stop and glace
The abandoned mess filled with blood red madness and the purple dress
A lifetime of memories hidden in these walls -
The childhood scrolls across the walls in crayons of blue and pink
And here I stand my arms held over the sink -
Gosh I can’t even think
“What will I tell my kids when they arrive home from school?”
“Oh God this is so cruel”
So ok I must be strong pull it together and just move on -
The single mothers fighting song
Maybe I can call my friend to help move us out
Or maybe I should just silently shout!
(Written for the Home Foreclosure contest!)
I woke up early one cold winter's morn; *
A ray of light had roused me from my sleep,
And gazing at the rose-pink blush of dawn
My eyes excitedly began to sweep
Across the frosted landscape to the deep
Soft bed of snow on fields and hillside steep.
The world had been transformed beyond compare.
A pristine blanket clothed the frozen ground.
As sunlight filtered through the frosty air
Such dazzling brightness shimmered all around.
Soft flurries of light snow fell without sound
And silhouettes with crystal glace were crowned.
A child-like joy embraced my ageing heart
To see this winter wonderland unfold.
A spectacle of such majestic art
Its silver sheen more dazzling still than gold.
A stunning transformation to behold
Of origin divine and imprint bold.
And though now frail, come morning light I planned
To take a little walk through virgin land.
*(Please note that in British English, ‘morn’ and ‘dawn’ are a perfect rhyme)
26/12/18
'Winter wonderland poetry contest' : Sponsor :Émile Pinet
'Winter Wonders Within Nature Poetry Contest'
Sponsor:M. L. Kiser
As I rush past the dastardly faces of those in pain,
I begin to ponder if it were possible to die here,
Surrounded by disease and loneliness the decrepit weep under those in control,
There daily dose of detrimental disruption,
The toxins streaming through their inadequate veins,
I slowly emerge from the empty corridor,
Hearing the woeful cries of those who are whining,
I have reached his bedside,
He looks up at me in such a way that cannot be compared,
I place my frigid hand upon his,
And I feel no warmth just the mulled sense of death in the air,
I glace at the tubes running from his weakened limbs,
His ever-growing fear racing through his diminished heart,
“Look after your mother, Noah”
A frail voice is heard,
I seek remorse from the dying man’s eyes,
How could I possible fill the leeway this man has kept between himself and my mother,
He is a constant trustee to my mother,
And a shoulder to bawl upon,
He himself knows he is approaching the inevitable,
His eyes wonder around one last time seeking a sense of fulfilment,
They soon lock on to my youthful eyes,
The diminishing hazel stained irises are slowly weltering away,
Along with my Gramps silver lined soul,
“Can you still have last words even though you are someone that isn’t well known?”
I chuckle with a teardrop flowing down my caressed cheek bone,
His hand lifts to my cherub like cheeks,
A final stroke of my now blessed face,
Only now do I notice the continuous beeps of machines is no more,
Just a flat line of sorrow.
translation below
Tomber dans le vide
Je rêve de toi
Je rêve de toi toute la nuit
Je bois du vin
Je bois l'amour
Je suis triste dans la nuit
Je regarde dehors à la pluie
Je joue avec mon cheval-jouet
Je rêve de voyager
Je rêve de toi
Je meurs dans la nuit
Le froid, la glace
Mots inachevés
Translation
Falling into the void
I dream of you
I dream of you all the night
I drink the wine
I drink the love
I am sad in the night
I gaze outside at the rain
I play with my toy horse
I dream to travel
I dream of you
I die in the night
The cold, the ice
Words unfinished
I searched a thousand dreams
living inside each and every thought
you linking my arm love,
walking along the five fingers golden strand
in my living memory none can compare
free and alive our memories shared
Like blooming flowers
as now they are slowly fading
lovingly pressed deeply
folded inside these pages
with so much love
nothing ever decays
Always warm touching and so soft beautiful
lives inside forever one wonderful dream
as we walked together darling wow breathtaking,
shining forever in the circle of a Claddagh
always was my promise to you darling
on this very special day
Such a fulfilling dream
floating on air took my breath away,
this the most valuable item
my heart I gave to you so special,
caressing winds brush
freely with the spirit of your deep beauty,
divine everlasting angel strolling
were the fingers five of them, in total
sticks out into the deep sea
Sweetly holding hands
if only I could sing to you love
whistling in the breaths of a spirit
enchants inside echoing great ocean waves
believe me I would.
Turning changing all shades of blue to dark green
breaks in front of our visions,
the great Atlantic sprays her foam
within celebration kissing this mind
real love feelings striking
our spirits freely joined as we kissed,
in a cool summers breeze warm and gentle your lips
Looking into your eyes dark shining jewels
drifting away this heart overcome beating for you
each and every time looking at you smiling,
thinking as you smiled,out loud into myself
a gift from God truly amazing beautiful
beyond all words I know,
just how lucky I am
to have found you perfect
Sharing with you everything
internal present of your warmness so special,
sweetly scented softly kisses deeply inside touching
holding embracing your beauty,
this heart only sings in your name
loving you,
heart stopping at first glace,
mind blowing for me
singing inside this mind your praise
I wandered round the lonely graveyard.
The few mourners did not bother to look at me.
I ought to know the paths so well
Ah there it was, unembellished as I had left it.
Silence reigned everywhere, except for some bugs
I began to wonder what I was doing there.
Then a small group of mourners appeared.
Four bored men carried a coffin, plain as can be.
The burial took very little time to carry out.
A priest mumbled a few prayers and all left.
Except for a woman all dressed in ebony black.
She shed no tears nor mumbled any prayer.
And then she left without one glace at me.
There on the slab someone left a picture frame.
Curiosity got the better of me and soon I saw
It was a picture of me. The slab opened
And I just entered my place inside and all was calm.
Fiction, just a ghost story
no Artist, no Poet
Vickie M. Ortiz Vazquez
I am not an artist
So, I doodle
Play with shapes, colors
Juxtapose
Yet, I am no artist
Inscriptive, descriptive visual symbols come about
Recognizable shapes, not what it seems
Misunderstood at first glace
Driven by a part of me you do not know
I am not an artist
So, I doodle
Play with shapes, colors
Juxtapose
Yet, I am no artist
Lines meet to reveal a thought
Experience
Fuel by what has been heard
Watched
Felt
Syllables merge to form words, sentences
Beliefs
I am not an artist neither a poet
So, I write
Use words to paint my thoughts
Yet, I am no artist nor poet
Black book to grey notebook
Symbols meet; apart by soft-hard covers
Thoughts described
Driven by the woman, teenager
Childhood memories
Stitch by a common thread
Me, myself and I
I am not an artist
So, I doodle
I am not an artist neither a poet
So, I write
Yet, I am no artist nor poet
I am life’s fool
Touch by moments of inspiration
I am nature’s creation
Design to loose and gain
I am society’s product
Branded by many labels
Constricted, tormented by my “brothers” and “sisters”
I am not an artist
So, I doodle
Play with shapes, colors
Juxtapose
Yet, I am no artist
I am not an artist neither a poet
So, I write
Use words to paint my thoughts
Yet, I am no artist nor poet
Work in progress
Life’s path
Unfinished piece, lifetime work
Brush strokes, wide-simple yet complicated
Narrow path full of passion
Torture
Bristled brushes with primary colors
Endless possibilities
Motifs floating about
I am not an artist
So, I doodle
Play with shapes, colors
Juxtapose
Yet, I am no artist
Expressive words delineate motifs
Continuous mark with an end
To express what cannot be said
Mumble within me without escape
I am not an artist neither a poet
So, I write
Use words to paint my thoughts
Yet, I am no artist nor poet
I am life’s fool
Touch by moments of inspiration
I am nature’s creation
Design to loose and gain
I am life’s fool
Touch by moments of inspiration
I heard the voice of the well,
I approached the curb,
There was black sooty,
It was probably your call.
As a low message
From the depths,
The narrow circle of the shipwreck,
From your former splendor ...
I bent, but not for drinking,
There was at the bottom, a clear round,
Lost in all this black,
May be you'll hope
I come to you,
That, I lost balance,
And I'm drowning,
To make you free,
So I will take your place,
For real,
I'll watch the clouds go by,
Of the small round hole.
Occasionally, your image,
Will bent without regret,
To evoke my face,
Hidden under the glares.
You come down the bucket,
That will plunge below the surface,
I'll give this taste to the water,
As if it were from ice.
You will drink to my health,
Warming my soul,
With a little tea :
Waiting is not a drama.
You've waited years
That returns this day :
No one is damned ...
At each his own turn ...
-
RC May 2015
-
J'ai entendu la voix du puits,
Je me suis approché de la margelle,
Il y faisait un noir de suie,
C'était sans doute ton appel.
Comme un faible message,
Venant des profondeurs,
Le cercle étroit du naufrage,
De ton ancienne splendeur...
Je me suis penché, mais pas pour boire,
Il y avait au fond, un rond clair,
Perdu dans tout ce noir,
C'est peut-être que tu espères
Que je vienne à toi ,
Que je perde l'équilibre,
Et que je me noie,
Afin te rendre libre,
Ainsi je prendrai ta place,
Pour de bon,
Je regarderai les nuages qui passent,
Par le petit trou rond.
De temps en temps, ton image,
Se penchera sans regret,
Pour évoquer mon visage,
Caché sous les reflets.
Tu descendras le seau,
Qui plongera sous la surface,
Je donnerai ce goût à l'eau ,
Comme si elle venait de la glace.
Tu boiras à ma santé,
En faisant réchauffer mon âme,
Avec un peu de thé ;
Attendre n'est pas un drame .
Tu as patienté des années,
Que revienne le jour,
Personne n'est damné...
A chacun son tour …
-
RC- mai 2015
glace mountain tops amidst heather'y foothills --pepper icy squalls
February 19, 2016
Her eyes are a sparkling dew inspired shade
So blue they mist with a passionate side
They stare with a loving glace on my face
Gorgeous, tender eyes, ones that come and slide
She looks at my body, a lustful sight
Brings my heart to a boil all sinful like
The love we have is our stare together
Our passion is smart, two as one alike
There’s an alarming feeling of grandeur
Kindness is a part of our lives so free
Romanticism brings delight to mind
Our sweet hearts are bringing intimacy
We hold hands together, symbol of love
Our kiss is fire, a mission of passion
Intrigue finds its way back into our hearts
Returning a love which is for certain
Entered into Gail Angel Doyle's "Echoes Of The Heart" contest
3/25/2013
My name is Gracelyn,
I like to sing,
I like to watch movies on a binge,
I like to cook,
I like to climb,
I like to play games.
I like feeling loved,
I like feeling like i don't have to change,
I like feeling like I can be ME.
I am a human being.
I am a person.
I am a wild card.
I am fun.
I am caring.
I am over-indulgent.
I am over-weight.
I am ME.
I have quirks.
I have imperfections.
I have friends.
I have family.
I have technology.
I have time.
I have the freedom to be ME.
But I want.
I want my other half.
I want a best friend.
I want to be small.
I want to be visible.
I want to be more than someone everyone passes on the street without a second glace.
I want to be ME with someone other than my family.
I want someone to share all of my secrets with.
I want.
I need.
I need my other half.
I need a best friend.
I need to be visible.
I need to be more.
I need to be ME.
I know this poem is more personal than my others, so thanks for reading. :)
Cherry blossom petals
Float on down
to the path of tar beneath my feet
At the pace of sleet
A small river made of marshmallows
Build as I walk with a pace
so slow that I appear
To walk in slow motion
as I embrace
Each petal out floats the next
As though playing a game of chase
Building me a path
Of pink cotton
that bleaches me eyes with life
Bringing my mind a racing
To a time long ago
But never forgotten
Cherry blossom
Tree you stand
with a fragrance view
Back to my childhood and old memories
Everytime
That I glace upon you
If I twirl beneath your cheery shower
Will you flood my bloodstream
With a heavenly power
With a sweet sent of a growing rose
Pressing my being with an unseen impose
So that my soul, my spirit my very atom grows.
Written By Sarah Linklater
09th may 2015
Here poem I wrote about Easter.
Charlotte Anne Brackenbury Easter Song/Poem
One Easter Morning I saw Easter Bunny,
He looked liked it been crying and not all bubbly,
I went up it asked 'what the matter with you this sunny easter day',
He replied 'All the Holidays you hear pleantly songs and rhymes and it seems after all this time you never ever one about me' he replied in very unhappy way,
I replied 'that maybe ture but we do celebrate you even if not in song and dance',
The Easter Bunny looked at me with
a smiling glace,
I started saying and almost singing out load,
We all sit around with a eating Easter feast with families and friends its a cheerful crowd,
Then all children run upstairs while waiting to hear bell,
Which told them come down and try and find Easter Eggs that hinden by Easter Bunny who knew how to hind them very well!,
So see Mr Easter Bunny no need cry and look down,
As even if nobody sings songs there is no need frown,
Then Easter Bunny hop away deliver the Easter eggs on time,
With happy thoughts in his mind.
Dark days bright nights,approached by glamourous smiles with deep motives and dull
intentions. wonderful noise smothering particulaur senses. Infactuation with the ingredients
of a peculiar taste,brown water,liquid lightening, and a taseful 1738 blend. An atmosphere
full of pretty birds with broken with broken wings implementing the most astounding
memories that should last forever,yet who can remember.smoke the color of rain clouds
granting a peak at the angels fantasies. Whoa give me a moment-lost in translation
understanding words that cant be understood...rescue me from my destiny. morning glances
after acat on the roof entry, angered thoughts of a cherished love lead to a frustrated
intimacy. a special silence follows until broken by spoken half truths.looks of affection that
wish to flee,yet bound by the hearts leash. timid touches and cold concern,promises
announced in a whispered awe. one spilled tear for lack of faith sealed with a kiss of
blasphemy. finally a most needed coma arrives bringing dreams of memories lost. a soul
piercing eye with a pupil of contempt, all so grand for a toll that is sure to ensue...rescue me
from my destiny. A short distance through a long door, the glace behind at a comforting
illussion. The sun is bright always and the days are cold forever. Deeds committed worth
everything thats nothing, still the adrenaline enjoyable is embarked upon. For the sake of
small wonders attendance of the feast of wolves, hand shakes with the brutes during
agreements between civil monsters. Indulged in accomadating a demand amongst a people
of intense cravings and un-satisfiable urges. An un-mentiomable deal from he who is the son
of the one who knows the ageless stranger. reflection of shields with the bias of the eagles
integrity. all in a spectrum of lights that cause excellerated rates of the heart and a million
thoughts in the span of a moment. Surely a daily itenerary...some one please rescue me
from my destiny!
The choices we make
determine what is destined for the future.