Best Ground Level Poems
This year’s been so long. So long to Winter!
With blinding shaft and bright bleeding of sun,
the limbs of trees, like flames, trust their tinter.
Unfurl the soulful buds, ye Holy One!
The soak of pomp at ground level unfurls.
Angelic, sonorous romance of Spring.
See tea cups and saucers — bouquets uncurl.
Astir your eyes to the rebirth God brings.
True garden grows within — reds, purples, blues.
The rose, tulips, and wildflowers — His gifts.
Forsake not light of brightest scent and hue.
Lean in, darlings, and pluck the sweetest lift.
To live is Christ! Adoration of life!
So friends, spur away Winter and its strife.
3/6/2021
Breath of Spring
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
you cant help but feel to failure,
presence of nothingness fills your heart,
your subconscious mind turns into your enemy,
and the heart you stitched together has fallen back apart
your head is filled with memories, in which stab your present thought,
The smile on your face is artificial,
while the pain in your heart remains sought
stuck in this state of mind, its hard to let it go
you get high to seize the day, because on ground level,
your stuck at a low
The Rainbow.
It must have spanned a quarter of a mile from
ground level end to end, a quarter mile
high in the sky.
I saw some children coming from their cars and
I said look there’s a rainbow. They did not seem
to dare nor to care nor understand
The shopping mall is new, the children are too
I wondered about both to big to
numb to rainbow.
I sat in my car, rain began to fall, the rainbow
in the sky began to fuse at one end to become
one with the sky.
The other end seemed brighter for a time
I figured it was time to leave. I drove
closer to home.
The people in their cars staring only at the line
of standing car in front of them. I wanted to shout
there’s a Rainbow!
But questioned why bother, it’s dying but not
As dead before it’s time as those who did not
wish to Rainbow.
Thoughts came of yesterdays and what of the
Tomorrows the children will they see as I
it’s rainbows of life.
Tears did come, so pretty was the rainbow.
Other thoughts came. It’s better to
think not of tomorrows.
Nor the many yesterdays, think only of today
and what a beautiful life to behold
any of it’s rainbows.
I know well of the pot gold at the end of
life’s rainbow. It shines brighter to a heavenly
light on into daylights bright.
.
When we first met here, it didn’t have such a dead feeling like it does now. This place used to have a soul, it used to be alive. Now it stands alone like a nameless grave. Forgotten and empty. Isn’t it funny? A place that once made me so happy, now feels like I’m walking into an angry cellmate’s prison cell, waiting to get shanked in the heart repeatedly. I walk past what used to be our favorite wooden roller coaster which is now rundown and rusty. It’s in shambles; parts of it are not even intact. The broken half of the wooden roller coaster looks as if it’s trying to reach out to the other piece that has fallen apart to become connected and complete again, but the overgrown vines keep them apart. I finally stop walking to look up to admire what has become of this thing that now reminds me of a torture device from a scene from the movie Saw. Just as I thought, looks worse than it did before and each day it begins to look more and more like an old woman who needs help standing up. As I stand here my mind begins to play tricks on me. My focus is now shifted from the wooden roller coaster to ground level of the vacant theme park. From a distance I see him and I laughing together, looking at each other as if that was exactly where we wanted to be and nowhere else. Then my mind starts to flicker the scene on and off like a light bulb, kind of teasing me saying “now you see it, now you don’t.” When my mind does this, I know what’s going to happen next. This scene that I’m watching from afar will soon be put into my imaginary basement of haunting memories for me to save for another dreary walk in our now least favorite theme park.
Form:
"The Authoress – The Author"
She parked Silver Lady
by The Road's side,
placed the keys in Her pocket
Her hands were warm
Her eyes were cold
She smiled a tight smile
You know, full of passion, full of ire -
Her heart was an inferno,
inside her was a Wicker Man
Her heart was burning up, on fire
Ferociously She slammed the car door
and walked into the Woods
She didn’t look back
The Autumn breeze had risen
Winter was stalking Her
A Black Crow and Peregrine followed
She was on a mission
Somewhere in the distance
the sound of a laughing
fat-bellied storm approaching
it’s thunder clapping
A Snowy Owl, far from home,
watching on with wisdom
silent at ground level, decided to
spread wide it’s speckled wings
to sit in the higher branches safe from
danger and wilder things
Perched safely looking for some Sun
Snowy Owl understood
this was not a walk to
Freedom
Some say the Woods are haunted
Dimensions of past lives
Open Portals,
where misplaced in time,
Lost Lovers meet,
Never again to be seen
In this World,
what is to be seen is
The Unseen
Somewhere, in time,
where story left poetic rhyme
The Author walked into the Woods
The Author didn’t look back
Somewhere, misplaced
Lost in time
where story left poetic rhyme
Two stories meet
Unseen
(Ladylabyrinth/2019)
gvlm
“Lover, hunter, friend and enemy
You will always be every one of these
Nothing's fair in love and war
In life, in love, this time I can't afford to lose
For one, for all, I'll do what I have to do
You can't understand, it's all part of the plan
Broken pieces of the night
Sing like hollow lullabies
You and I, always in disguises “
"Gold in your eyes dancing like fire
Dreamer trapped by your desire"
Like a living statue, the age-old tree
stoically stood there—anchored
and silently growing in majestic being.
At the tree trunk’s ground level, stood
a tiny squirrel—the happiest
of its anchored tenants—manipulating
its prized find with animal dexterity
mimicking that of a seasoned magician.
Suddenly, like an elevator running
straight-up to the top floor,
she swiftly shot up the towering trunk
to the toned leafy hair-like tree top;
There she silently sat herself
within the chameleon-like
camouflage foliage of survival.
After a moment of rested assurance,
the tiny squirrel just as quickly
descended the seeming smooth-barked
trunk where she sat—quietly gazing.
Suddenly aware of the liberating
experience between we three, I became
one with nature and her liberating message
to us all—whose ancestors had given all
that we might mutually survive
in that moment of deep consciousness,
I remembered the trying times when we
would cut down trees for sheltered comfort
and kill small squirrels to fill empty stomachs
while some of us filled empty nooses of trees.
Let us not forget how far we have come
and how far we have yet to plow onward
to get where we must and ought to be.
We too must be squirrely wise as we grow;
scurrying up the triumphant tree of liberty.
Nightingale’s sweet song
silenced in most of Britain
deforestation
In the last 50 years the population of Nightingales has fallen by 90% . The birds nest at ground level but Medway Council in Kent have still designated an area at Lodge Hill where the birds breed to be suitable to build thousands of new houses:-(
5/6/18
Poet took a high-falutin' leap of faith,
amidst a big swig of moonbeams
dabbling toes beyond starry galaxies
Milky Way spun in translations
Pluto still looked oddly perplexed,
Big Dipper gave a smart **** grimace
wondering what the hell was
going on 'neath the stratosphere
when human beings can't keep
their heads 'neath ambiguous clouds
feet firmly planted ground level,
delving lofty heaven's bliss
escaping the wrath of hell's fire,
aggrandizing endless poesy that
absorbs sparks of a universal desire
never phasing sun's obstinance,
but, if you believe in poetry
there's no telling where
boundless skies will surrender
...and the man in the moon tilted on his axis in a
backward's spiral and unabashedly winked
8/3/17
"
Dealt the hands of fate
A dollar short and day too late
Checkmate
Your ship is sank
Grab you by your cape
With haste
Then followed yellow tape
And not a single trace
Looked them in their face
Then put them in their place
Those who instigate
And discriminate
I eliminate
Same with if any that imitate
And implicate
Then toward them I liquidate
My eye on people when they manipulate
And vitiate
I'm ready to assassinate
Let me articulate
I'm out to innovate
And assimilate
Don't make me reiterate
Before I dissipate
What better time is there to illustrate?
The great escape
And great debate
Lifting and pushing weight
Willing to undertake
It's all there to make
Lock it away in a safe
And put the rest in the bank
Keep a full gas tank
And work hard toward having an estate
With a keypad at the gate
As well as a pool the size of a lake
Home made cake
Veggies and meats barbequed or baked
Filling up the plate, with or without lobster and steak
An ever increasing rise in the birth rate
Music from the speakers rattling windows like an earthquake
Success on the first take
The blunt was rolled well and burned great
In the past seeds beginning to germinate
Then a certain scent started to permeate
Avoid all the drama
Got to add up more commas
Burning through potent ganja
If I gotta I wanna beat the case
Until the case is beat
They can take a seat
Because it all ended up being a waste
Of time and quite the disgrace
On the chase
A near endless race
Barely ever hitting the brakes
Picking up the pace
Got to get first instead of last place
From here on ground level or up in space
Too transparent and opaque
Not going to shake
The hand of any snake
Or flake
Got to keep the faith
One day ill buy or test drive a wraith
what
A multitude of dishes is just not a sanctuary of fishes. Ok? Did you hear the trinkling of the water omitting from the tap? Gaps are small and small is smell and smell is stagnantly sipping stoic spit. Judge not a golden orb of a heifer. Especially not when placed with great dignity on a platter. An apple achieving across-the-board according to acrobatic acronyms is very wise especially when dressed in a sun hat and a pair of shorts. But sailing pears can pair with the wind and this would surely exact much chaotic waving weaves for the tiny little wading jelly fish whose waters are at risk of great corrosion. Explode that then! I think not. Battle no burger bombing belly. Big bull. Bionic bacon brawl. And a trawler filled to the brim with ice cream is weaving it's way underground watched by the kilometre wide whale. Xenophobia of a hexagon should shut all the windows and not speak to kettles. And the fortification of a French Fri. Is neither akin to a brain washing line, a string skirt, a lute or a playlist of random energies. During a download one must eat copius amounts of sage, onion and lettuce casseroles with a nice pleasant dessert of melon served on a bed of floaty cream. Just watch that it does not float out of the window or it could be confused as an unidentified frying object. Flying you say? No that is merely a ground level rising to meet an upper arm akin to a wardrobe tackling the clothes in a wrestling match. Dumb no dim dinner and during dogma derive decisions. Ok then. Good. Ample is fantastic. But hundreds and thousands dancing on a little one centimetre cake is just not wise, clever nor pleasurable really so always wear a pair of spectacles to a game of rugby and play with arms and legs holding a seven foot spoon who is smiling at the antics. How quite articulate of the appearing ant then. Earthworm glow-worm flying worm speaking worm. And a large fathomable waltzing waters snake. Hahaha now pick up a dish and dance around the ten acre kitchen. Hahahaha ladle leaving. Xxxx serving a dollup of tea with sugar and lemon. Xxxxx combustibles z that was the p Y q reporting from the road on the road around the road and on nineteen lanes eighty three beaches ten forests and a ten centimetre pond. 89.0 radio p. Z z z z z applet z
Form:
Questing the perfect scenario,
Desiring for heights,
Wanted to drown in the success seas of magnifico life,
From childhood to infinity,
Accelerate the feelings of success towards insanity,
Draw your attention towards glory,
Dare to succeed quickly,
When you would reach up to the heaven
Don't be apart from the ground level,
Working for late
Will let the people to wait,
Drowning in the glory,
The best end of a success story.
-Ashneh Singh
On a marvelous morning in Ooty
I was inside the beautiful Botanical Garden
On seeing colorful flowers, plants and trees, mind became empty
Courtesy of the goddess of gardeners gladden
Formally fashioned flora flaunts a feast
Lie slope by slope like a terraced layout over a large area
All set bench by bench in an order of taste
small, tall, taller and tallest trees set, with clear idea
Breeze had filled my heart and soul
I walked from left to right and right to left
Again ups and down, to cover every area in full
Soul soothing sunlight too was soft
Many were soul stealing scene
Plenty were the photogenic places
Both seasonal and perennial flowers, kept clean
With camera, you may see several smiling faces
Delicate flower pots were decorated inside glass house
Seen few birds bathing in bond, before I climbed up to that stretch
Fragrance of fascinating flowers fed my nose
I begun to climb down after a soulful catch
It was a small pathway, as a shortcut to reach down
I was cautiously climbing down to the pond in ground level
With thoughts of this bustling former pastime British town
Continuous drops of water from tree was quite novel
With smile, I found birds on the treetop fluttering after the bath
With this, not only the climate but my soul too became chill !
With more drops falling on me, it was a virtual bath in this path
With such blessings, my mind began to stand still !
Copyrights reserved
For many a millennia
man has walked
on this earth.
During this journey
he has learned much
but not enough
for his appetite.
To feed the hunger
he grows a special
garden,
a garden filled with
technology,
each year a bigger crop
is harvested to satisfy
the increasing need
for knowledge.
For many a millennia
man has mauled
and scarred
the face of the earth,
has interrupted
and disturbed
the workings of nature
with his pollution,
destruction, wars,
tearing down,
and building up --
events of mainly
technological origins.
For many a millennia
man's knowledge has enlarged,
now it's running amok.
If it continues
we will find ourselves
buried in long forgotten
tombs of earthen crust,
from space just holes
and pot marks
in Terran soil,
on ground level
vast wastelands
excavated by man
to feed technology,
to build concrete roads
and buildings,
creating a Heaven for man,
a real hell for Earth,
a planet which millennia ago
was still uncluttered,
much greener,
pollution free.
A virgin among the stars
awaiting the then unknown
dawn of technological
rape.
1977
Say queen what's your name?
in a moments delay, i caught a glimpse of your smile, looked in your eyes and saw someone i knew. someone i loved. a face of she that completed the entity of me holistically. I'm sorry your name is..
the spirit beckoned for my presence, i listened but in hesitation i declined the conversation. i remembered the moment my heart shattered into pieces with ends that would no longer be proportionate to any puzzle. the moment my breath became my suffocation, the more i swallowed i saw cloudy pictures i lost sight. i thought i was dying, no one to resuscitate me. she left me in that space hopeless.
speak again, what's your name?
the eyes delivered my trance, thoughts spinning, emotions flipping, i was turning into a ball of confusion, i heard the name but the familiarity was expelling too much energy, i couldn't find the rhythm of me lost in my memory, it's good to remember her, in fear i ran to the the lowest hole but climbed the highest and still didn't reach ground level. i still need her.
you asked my name...
the voice of my sanity, it rang like anita baker angel on a sunny sunday stunning sun rays beaming of the beams of my forehead, tingling the roots to the follicles of my tendrils. speak to me spiritually because verbally i submerge in blue hues with purple colored canvas i become a lush of words. speak to me emotionally with your hands covering mine, feel my pores into yours, drowning in love. whisper slowly in the pits of my being, i need your words to linger this moment may not happen again...
your name happines huddled around ampled eager evident total tenacity heighten humility eventually enmeshed rhythm rupture.
Break apart all those facile screens
Organized overdrawing of institutional bleeding
Walks through maps and tourism
Pushing hour glasses beyond comprehension
At the ground level, animals are recurring
Human bounty participates at the nexus
As species consolidate their voices
Power and choice conglomerate each family network
Brother in arms bent apart
Relegates to the past where futures amass
The tiny behavioral netting with wet tongues crawling
Putative changes through into city potluck