Best Glowering Poems
O glorious Autumn of melancholic
Gold -
All abouts the brightly lit
Woodlands
Your wonderful artistry behold!
Tinted bronzes,
Darting between awkward firs
Of sobering Evergreen,
Loiter inside mauve havens
Splashed with palest yellows -
And dappled with many differing
Limes
Throughout this variegated Theme;
A myriad of rustling contentment,
Sweetest contrasting charms,
Complimentary...
Softly whispering leafy hues...
Hushed...most elegantly serene.
Bursting into the swelling copses
And invading between the
Dwindling fields:
Auburn, primrose and lilac views -
Abundant with seasons
Celebrations
That so magnificently infuse!
Glowering in simmering sunset,
And spluttering in misty dawn:
Afire with all the orbs oozing
Revelry,
That upon barkened furniture,
To thus gild - and resplendently
Adorn!
Now is the time
That dry tinkling leaves
Give musical resonance
To a breath exhaled from
A breeze...
Fanning the boughs roaring flames
That each out-stretched branch
does eagerly seize,
Fired from the eternal torch
That immortal Ceridwen tirelessly
Sought;
Whilst I hang upon evocative
Memories
That this arresting moment briefly
Caught.
Blazing with a consummate passion
Ignited from a poets grappling
Thoughts:
The Muses to this joyous splendour
Were summarily summoned
And brought;
But as elusive as the enchanting
Notes
From the intoxicating pipes of
Evasive Pan...
So as elusive the words of the
Unwritten verse
That so evade this singular man.
So burn! You gaily painted colours,
Within abandoned restrain,
Your dizzying carousel
A whirling kaleidoscope
Upon an artists ever changing frame.
Soft ochres and dappled browns
Mixed with vivid orange and crimson
Red...
Applied lavishly from the palette
Of Artemis
Over which the vibrant pastes
Are thinly spread.
A riot of pastel shades
All exploding forth -
With the raging power of a
Supernova
Of an immense, dazzling force!
All hail to the almighty:
From the devout to the Divine...
And all hail to the Grandeur
And Majesty -
Of his awe-inspiring design!
Categories:
glowering, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
In dream lone blackbird sits on telephone line,
pleading, what more do I have to give.
Wing once beat out a metronome in time..
leaving thoughts lost through a sieve.
I swore to rebuild our earthen dam,
and hold the waters at bay.
Your dream found a different plan,
left nothing more to say.
Race, now long finished, deemed total loss..,
left my prideful soul entreating.
Waste heart's song diminished, too high the cost,
ask why the day so fleeting.
Last candle's light gleamed in his glowering gaze,
Write journal'd fate, no answer would he belie,
September's temper teamed in shortened days,
to kiss late remember'd lips good-bye.
Categories:
glowering, bird, dream, identity, loss,
Form:
Prose Poetry
By the serene riverside
I found a faded yellow leaf
withering blades portrayed
ferocious storms in the journey
I have been clinging to it
trampled patches of scars
a memento of grey veins
broken dreams embedded
somewhere in the midrib
frayed memories conjugating
along oscillating spine
still vibrating in pain
to undulating frequencies
I stop
this isn't how the leaf should be
so I plunge it into the river
glowering greedily to drown it perhaps
but those scars get washed away
vibrating veins attain equilibrium
the leaf floats to the surface
with faded memoirs to be forgotten
I pick it up gleaming in moist droplets
reborn by the gaiety riverside
I leave it there
and walk ahead
another journey awaits
the leaf and me
we turn pages
beyond borders of this river
Writtten: July 14, 2020
July NA or HM Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
~HM in Strand Completely New (10),Any Form,Any Theme Poetry Contest
Judged on July 17, 2020
Categories:
glowering, analogy, journey, nature,
Form:
Free verse
There is an antique writing desk
in my little study
handed-me-down
from generations of would-be
writers in my family
And there are ancient creatures
from days gone by
living in this old desk still
evil, larcenous little creatures
envious of literary skill
This explains much
Lately, I have caught them unawares
aghast, thought I imagined them
but they are really there
surly, sinister, repugnant creatures
in my writing desk
There's a putrid little jerk,
called Pernishicus who lurks
behind the piles on my desk
glorying in the mess
a malevolent, grimy-mauve gremlin
Who preys on newly created works
stealthily spraying them
with foul feculence
as soon as I commence
my writing-
...Sometimes missing slightly
and tagging my hand
making it hard to stand
myself (much less my writing)
for days on end
Then there's a creepy
mesmerizing fiend
they call Spelbadger
a translucent thing, quite obscene
who shifts in the shadows and purrs
With dark eyes deep- constantly changing
like stones from mood-rings
set in his skull
he psychically bullies,
intimidates and muddles
until my poor brain
is worn and dull
And perhaps worst of all
is that one, Grumblesleaze
with pale, glowering eyes diseased
a gray-green, mangy looking thing
whose famous quirk
is that he has the gall
to grouse about my work...
As he viciously shreds it
then glunshing and munching
greedily devours it all
leaving no note
or trace of remembrance
of my past brilliance
behind
Oh, out of spite
he might leave a few
of my ill-penned
unfortunate lines
I planned to cut anyway
or pull my worst attempts
from the waste-can
and lay them out
to remind me of my failures
Yes, this explains much
For there was only one before
our one lone ancestor
who was able to write
at this desk prolifically
tapping out volumes rather heroically
'Though tiresome and tedious
dry history and drivel
which, no doubt, shrank and shriveled
and lulled these creatures off
to sleep for years
Until we woke them up
broke their hibernation
with more interesting stories
and imagination, colorfully crafted
ingenious, piece after piece
Clicking and clacking away
on typewriters, keyboards
generation after generation
of irritatingly gifted writers
disturbing their peace
it had to cease...
Categories:
glowering, anxiety, feelings, humor, humorous,
Form:
Free verse
Glowing, half transparent
underneath the pot, burnt,
yes I'm scorched but not sweating,
because I'm furious, so hurt!
Horrid, nagging insults
though they break before my skin,
salt unto the open wound
fire on oil's brim.
My tongue is dull as a dagger,
my bones rot like pure gold,
only like the fire,
I'm not at all bold.
I'm as weak as a boulder,
I'm as kind as an angry beast;
generous as I rip and tear
bones and sinful meat!
Oh, weak am I? and sissy?
brainless? or no wit?
a syllable of another word,
my teeth will loose grit!
Thoughtless and unworthy?
boiling in a pit?
One more word I'll eat you up,
slash you into bits!
Glowering near translucent,
underneath the pot, burnt,
and the pot is a a-brimmin'
'cuz man, I am so hurt.
Worthless noogy insult,
'though they shatter upon my bones
spice upon a wet fresh cut
fire melting gold...
I'm nearsighted like an eagle,
I can only fight a boar,
one insult I'll show them
see if they'd ask for more.
Categories:
glowering, anger, anti bullying, emotions,
Form:
Lyric
Snow draped folds like loose Cashmere curtains cover the evergreen boughs
pining for the lengthening days of each succeeding sunrise,
reticent to see the cold of night fall once again on the lonely landscape.
In this fallow world of darkness quiet is the norm, hushed silence,
nothingness, invading the shadows that fall ominously across the reaching branches
giving a sense of preternatural sleep to each living creature, each plant,
inhabiting the frigid winter's lonely, desolate abode.
Surreptitiously, the awakening begins, slowly and without notice,
Cyclamen hidden deep in the forest break free from their frozen bed of bounteous soil
oblivious to the naked dreaming deciduous trees that surround them.
Malaise broken, they reach their softly painted petals to the warmth of the sun
in perfect unison dancing the Danse Macabre to remind winter of its inevitable demise.
Narcissus will soon send forth his papery white blossoms to mock the
glow of the radiant gleen of the melting frost.
Summer still distantly drowsing cares not for the struggle of life born
out on frozen winter days and Autumn is but a memory now glowering in its
ostentatious robes of leafy brilliance; though, the
nor'easter may yet blow, just look and you'll see the signs, Spring is coming soon.
03/23/17
Categories:
glowering, seasons, spring,
Form:
Acrostic
Spring hangs
like a dripping woolen coat
from the pewter frame
of a glowering sky.
Why is it that poets write of spring
as if it were made
of rose petals and birdsong?—
and insist that spring is when 'true love' blooms?
There are no flowers, no birds, no eager lovers
with this horrid impostor, this con of a season.
Here by me,
on my windswept, narrow land,
I know well how it goes—
spring holds winter's slushy hand,
and the two of them laugh heartily at us,
flinging their icy spittle
in our faces.
Categories:
glowering, spring,
Form:
Free verse
Written: October 1st 2023
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the ocean of silence, I’m stunned
Astonish by its grandeur as I descend.
A comely curtain of conciliatory calm
Elapse the chaos, surreptitious and warm.
In the hushed embrace of the twilight sky,
A silence plummets, ambrosial all nearby.
Astonied hearts stand in solicitous awe.
A comely night implies her ethereal flaw.
Emollient whispers waft into the air.
Surreptitious secrets are shared with care.
Incipient stars start their gentle wafture,
Surreal leaves create a ripple in nature.
Mellifluous melodies mend meteoric might,
Fugacious flimsies that fizzle out of a fight
Gossamer moonbeams cast their diaphanous glow,
Creating an aura of silence, tranquility, and bestow.
Ineffable fairness, fiercely feisty, not frigid,
The break of dawn silenced, as if timid.
Saturnine secrets shrank in secrecy.
Stupendous silence slides, sinewy spree.
Lull launders, looping the limp land,
As warblers start with a duteous band,
Sullen clouds gather, ominous and dark.
Yet awestruck hearts find solace in calm remarks.
Reassuringly, the heavy silence lingers.
Dour faces are glum, yet prudent fingers
Guide the oxymoron of emotions that flow,
Glowering and divine in their quiet glow
In the gloomy hush, discretion gleans hold,
As discerning minds decry peace in the fold,
The prudent ones, with a discreet glance,
Understand the power of silence dance.
Glum faces settle in quiet repose.
Views deepen, and worries dispose
Astounded by stillness, they are in awe.
Of absolute peace that stillness can draw.
Awestricken by the amorphous depth it brings,
They decry solace in the lull that silence sings.
A curtain of calm tumbles, amazed and serene.
As the amorphous depth of quiet is felt and seen.
Inauspicious cruxes balmily soothe fears.
As diaphanous whispers softly, quell tears.
Hinky hearts hearkens a hypothesis behind,
A voice uttered, "Love silence will never hide".
No query or qualm can squeal this bond.
Silence is where my peace is dulcet fond.
In the hushed embrace of the twilight sky,
Silence reigns, and my love will never die.
Categories:
glowering, analogy, appreciation, silence,
Form:
Rhyme
The musty lights corrupt the stage
Twisting the form of the heavy curtains
Framed by the stolen shadows of cherubs
A delicate music box whispers into the guilded room
A faint perfume of smoldering limes bitter the air
This night could be Prague, Vienna...
Then I conquer the stage, arise and fulfill the lights
Only to again to have my dignity murdered infront of me
Adressing a hollow room
The only half-sound, glowering laughter in my mind
The meadow of poppy-red seats stare through the dark
The lights sharpen from their soft glow
And regroup as piercing arrows
Stripping me down
Back to my soul
I questioned why the others left
(and they question why I stay)
Neither are sure if it's through choice, or truth
Living in this dead theatre
Categories:
glowering, imagination, life, mystery, nostalgia,
Form:
The morning illuminated her face:
While deep in a sweet sleep she wondered why
She couldn’t see through the glowering darkness;
But in the morn she was amazed at the light –
Though she did not know that it was called light,
And where it did come from no one told her:
What does half year old baby understand!
Her eyes were beautiful heavenly stars
And her face was the morning eastern sky;
The patriots of our great country regarded her,
So the splendor of a future nation was greater
For she would be the sun-smile of tomorrow
When today’s sun would set away.
The morning illuminated her face:
But, so sad, a bullet came from the heart
Of the jungle, from the mouth of a tiger
And burst into her half a year old head.
Hear all of you: so the babe died.
Her dead face was full of sparkling tears:
The tinsel on the lifeless face, was end of a future.
Notes :Baby Samantha Pendo was killed in cold blood in Kisumu City after chaos erupted following the 08/08/2017 elections in Kenya.
Categories:
glowering, baby,
Form:
Free verse
MELANCHOLY
Why destroy my sunny day with storms,
wipe the smile from my twinkling eyes, dimpled cheeks?
Like bony-fingers pulling me down, into the abyss,
darkening my hair and my skin - aperture shut tight.
Oppression of yellow-daisy lids underneath a mass, of
ice-cold leaves. They keep falling overnight, an avalanche.
It’s the glowering words, burning like fuel -
a lasting impression, a roaring brew, simmering
melancholic stew. One that tastes gravelly, breathes
heavily into my nostrils - the phantosmia-stench of smoke.
Nightmares of copy-paper flying, disheveled through the air,
of books cascading off shelves, flood of sadness billowing.
My pen begins to write my story, then scrawls like tears,
dripping ink everywhere. Flamboyant-ink blots, rorschach-blue.
10/21/2017
Categories:
glowering, depression,
Form:
Free verse
The evening formed shivering sable remembrances
Of so many nights before just standing in the rain,
And moonlight flickered silently over sleeping streams
A trembling golden cavalcade with no need to explain
How even in the deepest shade a lantern light will glow
A shimmering milestone leading to wherever moments play,
And when threadbare clouds cast cloaks across the glowering sky
They flap like washing on a line on Nature’s washing day.
The sacred night crept over many dark and silent shades
Ever onward turning pages to where their dream sunrise waits,
Watching distant dawn rimmed silhouettes before their image fades
While dream night silk keeps patience, just behind its morning gates,
As on the edge where sky meets sea, soon it will meet the dawn
Where sunlight soft life’s dreams are spun around each living day
And those dream night silken whispers seem to be growing forlorn
For night and day are separate shades forever, come what may.
The night’s breathing softly whispered for the rest it dared desire
As birdsong called through diamond dusk to wake the world again,
So it curled up in a shaded corner, still untouched by mornings fire
Where it dared to dream of evensong, and wished it could remain,
Until the dawn bloomed softly and set fire to dream night silk
Looking through a window, a child’s eyes screwed up from the sun
As it peered through a lace mist of exquisite cloud white milk
While far away the whispering sea said daylight had begun…
Categories:
glowering, analogy, assonance, beautiful, beauty,
Form:
Rhyme
Born in Cincinnati that buckeye state
January 13th 1959 – 57+ years to date
A tangle of arms & legs testing lungs, which sounded great
He kind of resembled a misshapen octopus with oval pate
Glowering inxs of deep purple from blue mood being irate
Thrust out the womb of Harriet Harris whom Boyce did date
After courting this youngest Kuritsky kin whose ill-fate
Whisked by grim reaper, which demise she did hate
For her being imbued with vim and vinegar til illness ate
Away her je nais sais quois personable maternal trait
Evident during my boyhood reflected by her son of late
As he too inches closer to his mortality and Hades gate
Aware that each day ought to be cherished as the rate
Of time courses down that zip line where grim reaper does wait
Attired in brand name hoodie swinging scythe across oblate
Spheroid i.e. terrestrial firmament – though many years some great
Yet to be lived – trying to recapture childhood bliss before freight
Train on a collision course toward self-destruction ala tete a tete
With Anorexia Nervosa as thy then coveted deadly mate
A brutal hellish spiral down into abysmal depths of despair did create
Indelible psychological affects undermined existence I now equate
writ horrendous emotional, physical and social upon head of mate
Pledged his troth (almost 2 decades ago), which spouse doth berate
For lack of expressed concern and attests schizoid psychic slate
irrevocably seared and stunted natural development where I rate
prepubescent, early adulthood mental illness did grate
Against once boisterously playful innocent boy crushed potentate
Only male heir from me deceased mother who tried to extirpate
Mailer daemons who forged suicide pact and via voice did dictate
Albeit without success, yet decry forsaken innate
Experiences with female relationships lured my own poisoned bait!
Categories:
glowering, age, angst, anniversary, anxiety,
Form:
Bio
I ambled in shadowed life, secluded in shrouded night,
afraid to be seen by day, fearing glowering looks in light.
I searched for a refuge where none could do me harm,
and a fire in winter to beget my cold heart to grow warm.
No cacophony of a running brook would bring relief.
I heard no harp strings in symphony to ease my grief.
No one did I find to soothe or salve my restless pain,
no willing hand reached out to help me stand again.
I was a dreamer, spinning daydreams I never found.
No twin for my soul; no loved one to whom I was bound.
I couldn't hear my weeping, which I loathed so much.
My wants and needs were the same - just a gentle touch.
My sorrowful eyes cast downward so no one would see
the empty portals left behind of the woman I used to be.
Destined to always be alone, I gave up on love and hope.
With clouded visions in my eyes, no longer could I cope.
Bundled in rags, I realized how inhuman I had become.
In fetal pose I gave up, to malevolence I did succumb.
Unworthy, I closed my eyes to sleep, but first to pray,
"God, show me mercy and not give me another day."
I felt a hand on my cheek; and fingers brush my lips.
His warmth was fire, radiated from his gentle fingertips.
I blossomed as a flower, but couldn't give joyous scream,
guided by the hands of one I'd only imagined in a dream.
My eyes could not envision and my ears had never heard
but my heart embraced what I could not express with word.
My rescuer took my hands and dried the tears from my eyes.
There was no more remorse. I no longer donned sad disguise.
No more spinning daydreams of what life could hold for me.
Gone are the days and nights of all the, "If I could only see."
Sight does not open doors or windows to wisdom's call.
For the chance I've been given; well, now I think I have it all.
I've the gift of hope, with the knowledge that someone cares.
No more whining over how I used to think life was just not fair.
I walked out of the deep shadows where I used to live and hide,
into a world where I am loved, with an angel always at my side.
Categories:
glowering, faith,
Form:
Rhyme
The interrogation threatens to shudder like an earthquake
A long index of accusations spread out among the atmosphere like a blazing forest fire
Satisfaction, the officer and venomous umbrage, the criminal
Self-appreciation, the quiescent defense attorney with no right to be there
Misery, the boisterous dauntless prosecutor
The months of the annual calendar, the jury
Pain, the almighty judge
It’s a court case already divested from the defendant
Why should it not
Bother, why bother
Its past the millionth time in 216 divided by the jury
Satisfaction has seen countless rewards of capturing umbrage
Satisfaction has felt the boundless benevolence of glory
And foaming at the mouth, glowering with muffled respected fury
Sits umbrage, staring out blurred vision
Victimized in his own apperception
What’s the cost, the damage total; what has befell, befell reality
The anathema of fate or rather the favored affliction of fortune’s fool
Within a realm of possibility it may perceive to be both
A pebble laced with a thread thrown into grass only miles away
To be reeled right back in like a helpless fish on a line
The audacity, the audacity; oh just hush
Silence is golden and this silence is benevolent
Joy was once prevalent in the company of such disgrace umbrage reigned
Together they were serenity, a mixed graceful period of harmony
Such a song sung by dual owls in the presence of the lightened darkness of night
(sigh) …I can’t do this anymore
Make a world, create a story peacefully
Creating a plot circulating, tip-toeing around the issues placing bait in front of my eyes for me to take
What is wrong with me, my life
One word, a sharp enough blade to stab in the ankle to slaughter Achilles
In this case, me
The poet’s banishment, scourge creating a series of nine lashes
Still runs deep, refuses cessation
Proceeds to feed on every ounce of merriment to permeate through the cracks
Melancholy has produced to invade back in
What’s the cause this time for it to attack
A few simple words, reflection, swift defiance
the bruises upon the right appendage whispering, begging for more scars
FOR WHAT? ! ? ! ? ! ? !
Forget it….it’s nothing
Satisfaction has pardoned me, set me free
Umbrage, my twin has taken over me
To another bridge, we sit and sulk over a failed attempt at flight
Cause we willingly defy the right to say goodnight
Categories:
glowering, conflict, confusion, corruption, identity,
Form:
Narrative