Best Glinted Poems
Royal blue sky scattered sapphire clouds
On horizon embroidered in navy blue attire
Summoned by the onset of marigold sun
Emitting amber gold on tuscan yellow fire
Where tapestry of fluffy lavender floats
Decorating patterns of designs periwinkle
Mosaic of colors then spray-paint the water
Spreading a layer of golden yellow cover
Shimmering gold dust on twilight ripples
Abutting brushstrokes of dark blue egyptian
I saw you briefly where first time we met
On the lonely bridge that extends into bay
But as the dark landmass peeked its head
And the lifeless vegetation glinted despair
The tangerine breeze announced your exit
Quivering our aura beneath glittering riffle
For you refused to witness impending flame--
Broken vows ablaze in last breath of sunset
Written: August 4, 2018
Submitted on February 6, 2023 to:
2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers' FINAL Placement Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Submitted on December 7, 2022 To:
Placed 3rd: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 22 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Poem of the day on August 7, 2018
Placed first in standard contest #180 by Brian Strand
(This a new Version created using many editing suggestions from Linda:)
I picked you up
like a “shiny” newly minted copper penny
it was your kitten fur voice
O how you would hate that...
the avocado texture of it
with which
no matter what wild wicked hour I would call you
you would answer
You shimmered like sunlight
on the forest floor of my needles of neediness
glinted off the shiny chrome and twilight blinders of my
“made to order” searcher’s soul
You were the perfect portent
with your torrents of torment
to wash clean my jet and emerald caves
Or was it you who found me?
a white gem
silent, hidden behind my poetry
sitting in a seat in that Inn
listening to the hues of blues
stenciling the deep red shards of my heart
onto the unlined pages
of a blank black journal
I wore cool light blue and soft sheet cotton
like a cloud-kissed sky
I was light as air and as deep as “a thousand leagues under the sea”
You became my heroic touchstone,
my one true thing sapphire-sparked rock of glory
I hung you around my neck
oxen yoked myself with the weight of you
I hung myself
faithfully -to “my cross to bear”
your endless denial of our love.
You were lithe…thin as a straw… tall as a poplar
white as ash and grey as coal
except for the orange hot fire in the center ring
....of your cigarette
I mistook it for the flames of our unearthly love
It was just the firmament of your eternal coolness reflecting back
the stars of my own piercing need
Yoked by my own wanton weave … I drove on blindly
mind spider webbed
the ghost of your emotion-less carcass draped around my neck
“Leave no man behind”
I know you laughed and told them
that it was just a fire pit left in a cave
by the Queens of the Stone Age -Some loud, angry band you loved
Less real to you
by far more ethereal and ever lost in time to me
than the new found “writing on the wall”
Aimlessly wander veiled memories of yore
Each passing cloud subtly brings to fore
Recalling regrets, where laments agonize,
Thinking of you, searching forsaken skies,
Muting spent emotions of anguished eyes.
O how we rejoiced in blissful sunny days
When dawns arose on glinted arc ablaze
As golden beams pierced shrouded haze
Defying onslaught of darkened malaise
Intent on blotting zealous romantic phase.
Recalling ardent dreams with you I stroll
Where gleam of your smile brightens soul
As allure of amorous past feelings cajole
Emanating from desires heartbeats extol
In language of passion yesteryears scroll.
Every cloud etches effigy of love gone awry
Yet, thunder of stygian vibes fiercely I defy,
For return of clear skies in your longing I vie
Denouncing certitude hosting forlorn sigh,
Remorseful of ego that callously bid goodbye.
March 8, 2023
Placed 1st: Each Passing Cloud Poetry Contest
Sponsor: JCB Brul
Snowflakes adorn blurry morn, gently, gently trickling down
As salted streets are turning brown across this weary town
While tilting trees blow wheeze of breeze in throe of snow
In aerial dance of wintry woe, as tips of twigs sun rays glow.
Driving slowly, traffic is moving, blinkers brightly turning on
As somber day, bearing yawn, is awakening bleak and drawn
When kids thrilled, frolic and build, a snowman on their lawn
Celebrating school closings on this messy, dampened dawn.
Peering scenes tinted gold, hushed romantic gazes behold
Fixating on meadows bold, where pristine paintings unfold
Delighting in the glowing blaze that brightens daze of malaise
Appealing to zeal of morning, blushing haze in emergent rays.
A deer ambles besides her fawn, exiting her quiet hideout
Curious to scout how leisurely strollers are sauntering about,
Ruminating sunshine while darkened clouds are phasing out
As bluing skies, sparkle eyes, illuminating zest of astral clout.
Beyond foothills, tall cliffs sigh, scintillating in sapphire sky
When far from here, climbing up high, cerulean motifs vie
As cobalt imprints horizons amplify, where birds merrily fly
Announcing to the receding storm: it’s time to say goodbye.
When daylight quivers on melting mound of thawing ground
Amidst whispers swirling around, muffled wind’s hissing sound;
Golden glints thrill, glistening hill, tinting the landscapes blue
Refracting puddles in ornate view of glinted beams’ opal hue.
November 16, 2020
Poem of the day on November 18, 2020
Placed 1st: In rhymes sublime poetry contest--by Joseph May
The tapered blade glinted in the fast fading moonlight
It slipped so easy between the ribs on this, another murderous night
Swiftly the body was denuded of all his earthly goods
As the bladed murderer slipped off, into the nearby darkening woods.
The tapered blade reappeared two nights from that deed
No one took notice, the warnings they did not heed
The blade did flash the body fell, gurgling sounds did rise
As the body crumpled the life blood gone, twas no real surprise.
A vigilante, they declared, was on the prowl at night
Two evil men had been attacked and given more than just a fright
The death toll rose week by week, but none could tell the tale
The man with the tapered blade, not once his deadly blade did fail.
The bloody murderer with the blade came to a crossroads in his life
He stood between three roads marked Hope, Despair and Strife
Onto his knees he fell, he prayed and asked “Which road do I take?”
I have done your bidding Lord; help me my choice to make.
Looking down from heaven on high the Lord was angered so
“I never told you to act as judge and everyone will know.
Behind you a fourth road is opening this one is called Retribution.
Take that one if you dare I say, but expect no absolution.”
The murderous vigilante, his thanks did express in supplication
He took the given road, not realising this act was in its self the causation
Of the opening of a doorway where stood the Reaper with his scythe
As the curved blade came down, he watched his victim writhe.
The Grim reaper did smile his daily task he did so enjoy
To be given a soul to keep, would keep his devils in happy employ
So if you take the path-the one marked retribution
Remember at the end of it may not be the hoped for or best solution.
©5/11/2102 ~GG~
In the fading gleam enveloping the twilight hour,
the frail edge of lives tended to lose mortal definition,
its meaning masked by the murk of futile existence,
the misty minds sought the glow of the rainbow aura.
A thirsty pilgrim in the relentless pursuit of mirage,
travelled tormented in the wilderness of the desert
to the parched precincts of the dried up earthly souls,
searching for the benign gift from behind the cloud.
On garden path paved by precious stones of their faith,
fragrance of blooming blessings wafted in the dusty air,
the unsatiated mortal souls yearned to comprehend
the euphoric perception configuring the bliss illumined.
Sitting outside the door of the temple a hungry man
seemed to have surrendered the rest of his time to fate,
got some food from a stranger coming from nowhere,
his eyes glinted joy in the rays of the sun that rose for him.
March 6, 2021
Imagine me as a book covered with dust,
A soul whose warmth for years remained untouched
Letters on every page were ill-defined, unclear
The essence was hidden in an ambiguous fear
Uninterested I was in the societal rigmarole,
Me and my outer self were at opposite poles
Quite hesitant I was to turn to the next page
As I knew it would amount only to stormy rage
Quite concerned I was for my future pages and me,
The so-called bright world appeared shadowy
And in this dusky weather, suddenly the air felt unusual
This didn’t happen in years, the matter truly seemed crucial
I bizarrely felt the warmth of cool welcoming zephyr
My pages drifted, smiled and glinted like a pearl
My dull existence got transfigured into a life full-of-beans
Personified I was into a woman of worth, a woman of means
And now after owning this bag full of happiness,
I started reading the letters carved on me,
This time they were decipherable and defined,
They managed to unite me, my heart and my mind.
I looked around, in quest of the soul who revived me
Who passed by me and set my tangled soul free
Seeing him was out of question, quite hazy he appeared to me,
I could only fantasize him as a cozy breeze over the sea
Now, this breeze could be felt only when you are around me
You… only you and nothing beyond
You… the only one to make my passion profound
You… in your absence too you could be felt around
You … the only one in whom I am found!
As I wandered through the wood
Delighting in the shade,
In the very heart of it
I found a hidden glade.
In that glade a sunbeam shone,
A shaft of golden light.
And into that sunbeam
A butterfly took flight.
A swirl of iridescent blue
Glinted in the sky,
As gossamer wings carried it
Aloft and way up high.
It fluttered through the sunbeam,
It twirled and spun around.
Then danced a little pirouette,
There stood I, spellbound.
A little piece of heaven
Played out before my eyes.
It took but a sunbeam,
And a dancing butterfly.
Entry for 'Butterflies of Beauty' poetry contest
Sponsored by Mystic Rose. 9/1/2017
He stared at his war medals;
As bright as when first minted,
His own lustre long since tarnished;
Only tear-filled eyes now glinted!
He belonged to a generation
That sacrificed its fragile youth,
And traded it for our defence;
For freedom and for truth.
Although a very modest man
Who accepted his war-torn lot,
He wanted the world to remember,
All the others left to rot.
A past filled with campaigns like his,
Couldn't easily be put aside,
Though through many a tortured memory,
God only knew how he'd tried.
Don't ever forget this brave soldier,
Who now struggles to pull on his vest,
For if you forget the alive and with medals,
You'll surely, never remember the rest!
The path was long and winding; the snow falling, not making a sound.
His hands thrust deep in his pockets.
He hated being here with the wind howling all around.
His fingers clasping a golden locket.
The snow made it hard for him to see.
The ice wanted to freeze his tears.
He didn’t think he could stand this pain.
They had been together so many years.
The trees met overhead, the snow had difficulty getting through.
He didn’t find relief though; the wind cut like a knife too.
She was dead. he had to accept it and the time of year was here.
How many had it been he didn’t know, but it was definitely more than a year.
It was here again, and it was a night like this, fighting the falling snow.
She told him it was over on this very spot, where their love did grow.
The fight they had it was vile, he could not stop, and she pulled away.
She tried to run, he could see in her eyes, but then he made her stay.
He grabbed at her, the necklace broke and she let out a cry.
His fingers clasped the knife handle, even though he didn’t know why.
It suddenly flashed as though with a life of its own, and the snow at her feet went red.
He looked at her beautiful body lying there, and he knew that second she was dead.
He came back every year, always surprised, that they had never found her
When there she was standing, beckoning him, the snow swirling around her.
He rushed to where she stood; he knew the spot so well.
Her arms were open wide, his breath seemed to stop, his chest began to swell.
Was this forgiveness, was this release, would he now be able to sleep?
She was here, his mind he thought he was losing; he might be able to keep.
He held out the necklace, still with the broken chain.
She wrapped her arms around him and they were suddenly one again.
His feelings, were in turmoil, he didn’t know how this could be
Then he felt his blood begin to boil, and surround him like a red sea.
Her smile was wide; an icicle glinted as it entered his heart so deep
She said you are with me now, but I promise you will never sleep.
Entry for Dead winter Written By: Mandy Tams
sunlit icicles drip like moments leaving us
the naked splash of frigid water
as jagged edges soften in
February sun
crystallization
chopping off
glazed spikes
displaced
shatttered
by a fall to glinted pieces
winter's dimpled gems
that free the muted grip
of weary
Poem composed: January 12/2022
The surging stream cascades in swirling ebullience
Through dancing shadows of swaying trees entranced
The spectral dew drops draping the glinted grass tips
Weave lattice of splendor on the meadow bejeweled
The drizzling dust on moonbeam in blue satin night
Adorns the pearl laced waves of rolling sea beguiled
That’s where I look for my muse elusive.
Up above the majestic mountain’s serenading slopes
Waits the sun-soaked summit of ecstasy unclimbed
Far down the verdant valley’s slithering spine curved
Sparkle emeralds on picturesque plains untreasured
The rain-washed sky spreads the tapestry of dreams
Of chromatic imagery on rainbow horizon unreached
That’s where I seek out for my muse concealed.
The sun rises with the grandeur of the nascent dawn
Lifting the veil of miasma from the sense of unfeeling
The winds of imagination blows on the mindscape
Raising the dust of all dormant emotions unbound
Turning them into a surging storm of creative urge
Flying the muse to me with afflatus unconfined
That’s when it makes me a poet profound.
________________
June 30, 2022
For A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Contest
...inspired by a Dylan Thomas short story.
A breezy day, and two boys biking down the lane,
past meadows green with envy, soft as spring.
Picnic-packed and ready for the day's adventure.
They passed hikers. "Hey, lend us yer bikes!" they cried.
The lads whizzed by, not giving them a second thought.
"I bet them's fire cows," Jimmy said, (he had a wild
imagination.) "Nah, them's Holsteins, don't be daft!"
said John. The air was full of magic, and the sky
alive with seagulls. The ocean glinted to their right,
sparkling like the twinkle in a young girl's eyes.
They hurried to their destination, breathless with
anticipation, hurtling to a Neverland they'd mostly
seen in pictures, a rocky outcrop, pounded by
the waves, a fearsome confrontation with the sea.
A playground where imaginations wander.
“I bet there's dragons in them caves,” said Jimmy,
"and trolls and such, with fangs and fiery breath!"
“You're crazy!” countered John, (he read the Bible),
“'sides there's Jesus, He will shelter you from death
for now, make sure you're well and in good health."
Skittering on slabs as slick as ice fields,
tottering like lambs who've found their legs;
they played until the frigid water beckoned,
then splashed and frolicked, ducking from the heat.
Opening their back packs now, they settled down to eat.
It was then, the first time they'd discussed it,
Wally, Jimmy's brother, gone to God;
dead from cancer barely two weeks previous,
disconnected, laid beneath the sod.
Their tones were sullen, conversation somber.
“Is Wally with the Angels?” Jimmy questioned,
“Yes he is,” said John, “and safe at rest.”
They cycled home in silence, friends together,
and settled in their beds, forever blessed,
the moon endowed their dreams, a welcome guest.
Your ebony hair curled and cascaded untamed,
some swirled in the stream of craving squall,
some laced the lilting lattice of lust
on your forehead of ivory canvas,
engraving the contours of the evanescent charisma.
I wondered if this was your last image,
I would glimpse flicker in the wind to fade in oblivion,
if there was no tomorrow.
Your almond eyes of the azure sea waltzed
to the melodic waves of fervent music,
the eyelids danced with the flutter of butterfly,
floating in the air of yearning on charming wings,
weaving the wondrous fabric of trance.
I wondered if this was your last dream,
I would deem drift away in the wind to wilderness,
if there was no tomorrow.
Your crimson cheeks soaked to shine
the patina of the blooming rose I adored,
spreading seductive scent in the beguiled breeze,
with the touch of my desire caressing your face,
rippling with rapturous hues of glowing glamour.
I wondered if this was your last portrait,
in the twilight hour I would see it glow,
if there was no tomorrow.
The buds of rose bloomed on your luscious lips,
swathed in the lilac luster of the sunburst dawn,
the attractive allure glinted with gorgeous glow
like pearls of dew on pristine petals of pink rose,
shining like a star in the sequined sky.
I wondered if this was your last smile,
I would sense in my memory the stardust stow,
if there was no tomorrow.
Oh! how gems sparkle from glinted morning dew
Wooing your view, amber rays peeking through,
Enamoring jubilation as missives of love I renew
On halo of golden sun inscribing ovations anew
Blushing purple hues, scintillating skyline blue,
Venerating day precious~ my stellar gift for you.
Arrayed in crystal vase are red-roses you adore
Where silken petals gleam, evoking springs of yore,
In bouquet of our memories exulting evermore,
For you are the love-blossoms my passions implore
Titillating heart today, tomorrow, and forever;
Answering my prayer, you’re life’s holy endeavor.
Birds gently awakened you strumming your song
As cadence of my soul, extolling you sings along,
For endearing is the appeal buoyant on your zeal
Soothing me in your bliss, forlorn tears you heal,
My cheerful theme you are, deity of eternal glee,
You are my voice of poetry, exhilarating as can be.
Fabulously shines your smile on splendor of today
As dreams satiated replay waltzing rhythms of ballet
When lyrical praises of lifelong allegiances convey:
You are the guitar my heartbeats ceaselessly play,
You are the harmonics, tunes of symphonies sway
In chorus of heart’s music celebrating your birthday.
September 4, 2021
Poem of the day on September 6, 2021
Placed 3rd: Premium contest--A poem to your spouse
Sponsor: Funom Makama