Best Glimpse Poems
guilty as charged
i stole it tall
every consonant
every vowel
every word
every sentence
plagiarized
the ocean
in its unique shades of blues and greens
combined and blended to create
its very own colour
a tint i call ocean brave
covered in water
topped off in water
surrounded by water
immersed in water
stunning
the ocean
plagiarized
the beach
in unique shades of beiges and whites
combined and blended to create
a brand new fabric
they call it whiskey white
a trillion grains
parts unknown
the total sum of all
unified to act as one
the beach
plagiarized
the cloud
in unique shades of this and that
combined and blended to create
mystery
spin the wheel if you wish
a blank pallet- blush
a perfectly complex complexion- luminous
coloured in soft and titillating to the touch- pigment
oh the touch- intense
light as air
immaculate
the cloud
plagiarized
the living
in unique shades of everything
combined and blended to create
a cornucopia of finishes, stains
combined and blended
the world of the living
with all its bells and whistles
the unmitigated
the undisputed overall
the living
plagiarized
guilty as charged
i stole it all
every consonant
every vowel
every word
every sentence
everything
i see
i feel
i invent
i write
everything
plagiarized
from just a glimpse of you
i am wonderfully, joyfully
sick in love and you are everything i do
guilty as charged
all of it
plagiarized
My garden lies between the trees
Where lilies dance in gentle breeze
And lilacs whisper pretty please
To a butterfly's caressing tease
Nearby glows the buttercup
Where honey bees come to sup
While hummingbirds on branches squint
To catch a glimpse of hyacinths
And daffodils in yellow coats
Sway to songbirds dulcet notes
Queen Anne's lace is also grown
With Forget-me-nots and anemones
But the rose in beauty stands alone
And smiles demurely from her throne
----
Joseph May
© 5/2/14
Don't miss me for I'm never very far,
glimpsing your days from a secret star.
I'm among flowers that grow by your side,
resting on rainbows when hoping to hide.
As stars sparkle in the misty moonlight,
should a lone one capture a naive night,
or, if the summer breeze ruffles your hair,
it's because, for the moment, I was there.
Music you hear in a soft, summer's breeze,
is our song I'm singing to sleepy trees.
If not there, I fly in a peaceful place
where love can exist in a groundless grace.
I often meet you in whispers of air,
the song of a bird, sunlight on the stair.
I'll caress you when time gathers us nigh,
Together we'll explore the seamless sky.
March 16, 2023
for Brian Strand's Number 1199 poetry contest
POTD
so, I rose...
early morn' today
and drew open the bedroom curtain
how glorious, the little bit I saw of dawn!
how wondrous to see the face of the sun....
smiling!
In a split-second, my joyous spirit
pirouetted and flung up to heaven
just a tease...a glimpse
of a promising day.
Full of marketable commodities like xebec.
Waves of pure affection are slashed mercilessly.
Feelings: a sea upon which to wander carefree.
Devil swears to be a dove to trick people cursorily.
The doll dances on a string of yellow-golden hair.
It dyes its lips crimson with the blood of its lost prey.
It attracts people with its flirtatious smile and low blare.
Because of her, falls even the most religious people.
The ashes of destroyed rags cover the black eyes.
A sparkling smile covers Beelzebub's smile.
Her mistress is responsible for her spiritual slave.
A dark soul lurked deep within his radiant skin style.
Silicon's enticingly boosted slopes were xyloid-brittle.
Sword-like claws dig into the soul in sensual delight.
Obsession can be generated by female objects.
She does terrible things to helpless people fight.
The floral fantasies all turn xerophilous and prickly.
Salacious downpours became unending floods of sobs.
A terrible memory of a lost love left him feeling empty.
The reverberation of her laughing still throbs.
Written: September 15, 2022
Tragi comedy Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joe Maverick
Word bank:
*xebec-also spelled zebec, was a Mediterranean sailing ship that was used
mostly for trading.
*Beelzebub- Satan, the Devil.
*xyloid- resembling qualities of wood
*xerophilous- A xerophile is an extremophilic organism that can grow and
reproduce in conditions with low availability of water.
I was a glimpse in the mirror today
Of the girl I used to know
That face so young and youthful
But that girl, she decided to go
Where did she run away to?
Some land to be wild and free?
If I let her keep traveling on this path,
Well, what will become of me?
I saw her face in my older reflection
The sad smile that she's worn for years
itching to come out just one more day
As an alternative to silent tears
Where did she run away to?
And who did she think she could be?
Who knew that this worldly freedom
Would leave me so far from being free
if you took the time
to look into a girls heart
you'd find friends and family
nestled permanently in every corner
you'd find secrets and lies
locked in cages and hidden deep within
you'd drown in the love
and suffocate in the pain
you'd see the poor stitching
holding together the wounds
and watch the memorable moments
playing on repeat
you'd see all the tear stains
etched into its core
you'd witness everything she had to withstand
and how much strength it took to pull through
who was always there to lend a hand
or a shoulder
you'd realize what made her who she is
and what made her strong
especially when things went wrong
If we don't glimpse daisies for the grass
Sadly then it doth cometh to pass
We've missed so much unfortunately
Wonders of planet earth's mystery.
Every leaf, every flawless flower
Is beauty come from divine power
Daisies are sheer splendour on display
A gift meant for sharing everyday.
For those most appealing white faces
Praise the one who scatters the daisies
That bestow joy to one’s inner soul
Along alluring pathways we stroll.
The least we can do is not forget
To seek the daisies out on a trek
They come in spring upon nature’s wings
Tremendous things tinkling the heart strings.
Who on earth could never be humbled
By daisies upon which we stumbled.
How curious, remote, the pain seemed now
As a fly on the ceiling, she looked down
Her body below in a hospital gown
Incessant beeps emitted by machines
With blips and waves on their monitor screens
She tried to cry out; muffled were her screams
No warmth penetrated surgeons’ white masks
“What are they doing?” she wanted to ask
“And how do I know they’re up to the task?”
The scene rolled past like a horror movie
Terror, she feared, would last eternally
But the action, the beeps, stopped suddenly
A creature of light appeared, took her hand
Something seemed familiar about this man
Had they met before in another land?
Through a stone tunnel he guided her now
Without taking steps, but floating somehow
Toward figures moving in a misty shroud
Some she recognized as they drew near
Family and friends whose love she held dear
Were welcoming her; she’d nothing to fear
Parents, an uncle, a cousin and niece
Beckoned her onward, her soul sensed release
In a radiant spectrum, stairway to peace
But as scenes from her life began to unwind
A Deity with a voice so sublime
Said, “I’m sorry, but it’s not yet your time.”
Pulled by a vacuum, withdrawn from the light
Through the tunnel again, though she tried to fight
From the ceiling she gazed, witnessed the sight
Electric currents jump-started her heart
Paddles brought back pain she’d known from the start
When later she woke, there was much to impart
But a skeptical doctor denied her claim
Her “journey” he dismissed as inane
Circuits, claimed he, had misfired in her brain
But she knew the truth, would not be deceived
Even when only her pastor believed
A glimpse of heaven she had received
* * Based on my own experience during surgery long ago.
My rueful spirit was gowned in a silken shroud of white.
Was there no chance my penitent cries had been heard?
I searched his pensive eyes for the palest glimpse of light,
then he wiped my tears away. His heart had been stirred.
Four line poetry contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Posted: July 27, 2020
frost glitters like glass
proof winter is coming fast
dreading the snowstorms
November 4th 2019
A late Fall or Early Winter Haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
What is this resplendent thing that sparkles ahead,
Pacing faster than limbs of incapacity
Beyond the all-pervasive dakness of want?
Could my eyes be playing upon me some sly pervasity,
Seeing things untrue, askew and errant?
Or is it a reality that they will be resewn
The torn bonds that linked me to the world of bounty,
Where I may be returning soon?
I've had a glimpse of the future;
What a beautiful and gorgeous sight!
Streams of milk do freely flow,
And pots of honey glitter bright
Against the blinding rays of a rising sun.
This days of plenty seem set in the Promised Land,
For I see the fertile shoots of a germinating future
Guarded by an armed angelic band
Recruited from beyond the azure;
A fulfilment of a trashed prophecy.
And children of fate weakened by ages of plight
There do sing day and night;
Feeble frames malnourished for centuries
Enrich themselves from celestial treasuries,
Where the obedient minions of the sky
Gathered in response to their cry,
While they laboured on the red soils of Egypt
Before God heard their cries and His mercies leapt.
Who else can see this vision
Of relief from pandemics of fate
And the gaping gallows of death?
A time coming when sons of men
Shall storm this ogres den
And avenge the murderous terror
Inflicted upon their long gone kith and kin!
And the forbears long dead,
Shall be awakened by cries of war,
And with might reserved for decades
Shall avenge the pain inflicted before
By their wicked adversaries
Who maim parents and drink the blood
Of their offspring left behind.
The salt water
baubles washes
gently
upon the jetty sent
from lands distant.
Pushed by a hovering
yellow moon,
sometimes built into
thunderous waves
of hurricanes.
Change comes rapidly
and dangerously
as the sea meets
yesterday coming
back.
It speaks to me and
it does say,
I give no quarter
and furthermore
I ask
for none.
As I stare outward
at the placid waters
I feel heaviness
deep inside my
chest.
The sea has become
humanity to me,
With its powerful
and hushed rage,
not seen before.
Heretofore I have
been persuaded
by wanderlust to
skim the surface,
to walk on by time
without end,
miss nothing that
may be something.
I linger here.
The moon is playing
peek-a-boo,
reflection on the
water seems sad.
Stories are to be
told, perchance
to a much lesser
degree of now.
But
not yet.
Ink-black dark, I
cannot see;
even Luna appears
quite uneasy.
The peaceful lapping
of water
distresses me; I
don't know why.
Devouring soul?
So tranquil you
could hear a
tear drop, or a
salamander fart.
My nose detects an
exotic odor
Arabian sand carried
by wind.
Wind
words.
I squat on the rock
jetty,
look for ghosts;
probe my own.
My intimate séance
annoys
what I have kept
concealed..
I see what I see.
The serene sea is a
patient anomaly,
so serene I fear
there are things
unsaid.
The night bitter
black when moon
hides,
I sense an
oppressing evil
attributed
to dreams.
God's
heaven
is not a
far off place. It
dwells within a realm
beyond the constraints of
our physical bodies........in
tune with all spirits in divine
order, resonating in Love's light,
destined to experience our rebirth.
© Connie Marcum Wong
"God is Love"
Wishing all my poetry friends a very blessed Easter.
mamma held the whiskey bottle
in small yellow hands
with dirty/short nails
their polish peeling like hers.
jaded/hard eyes with fear in each iris
watched me with something akin to love
similar but more unsure.