Best Gyrating Poems
In those bleak fields that so quietly lie - stilled as graves,
Between where the thin wind creaks and upwardly heaves,
Unseen feet can sometimes be heard
Shuffling through the old woods discarded leaves.
For i have seen those strange distant lights
That detach themselves from heavens spilling crowds;
When dropping over the blindside of the little ridge
They rise to leap from cloud to cloud.
Impossible angles of inexplicable darting momentum -
Inwardly gyrating wheels now ingeniously turning;
Marvelous these the strange crafts of unknown design...
Yes - I have seen the night skies burning!
For well i remember as a reckless child
How i stole out to ascend that one forbidden hill:
Cast deep plans, set the clock ticking accordingly,
Rose, wrapped myself against Novembers raw chill.
Deep inside the Beech-hanger the Plough was struggling,
And over the despairing holt a devisive breeze...
As, of a sudden, on the edge of swirling darkness -
Showered particles upon vapourous ethers so violently seized!
Oh the hissing bolts of sizzling electrons -
Brilliance of colours like a dying meteors last rites!
Anti-Graviton paradox of mastered equational conundrum
Igniting the latent freeze within winters sharp night.
Radiant orb held aligned by polar-opposites forceful lines,
Spinning upon a singular point with such consummate ease;
Roaring furiously liken fabled dragon of Arthurian legend,
Hot breath licking across lines of illuminated trees.
Momentary seconds that crept alongside an age enraptured
Amidst tumbling thoughts of - "Just another Alien abductee"!
Then, gently tilting starboard, accelerating smoothly away,
Vanishing over the stacks and tiled rooftops of nearby Walton-Lea.
Often have i wistfully pondered in ever hopeful, watchful years:
What was it so witnessed as it hung before me in suspended flight?
And - with many cramming thoughts - groping for answers sought -
Recalling the wondrous moment of such an awe-inspiring sight!
Mongrels gyrating on the edge of town
This it now- its going down
The chant electric, the doomsday count
It matters not that no one speaks a word
We knew it was coming, but you havent heard
Just know how I loved you , go fly little bird
A mass of hungry hatred flash of glimmering blades
Blood of the martyrs, murder and Hades
Dance of the hyena, foul flinging dung
Clinging our candles only looking up
Feeble little fingers summoning the Light
A promise in our prayers armless in a fight
This is my cry, tell it to the world
From the podiums and parliaments
Dont believe a word
Along this season’s mid quarter-time,
I find myself wandering between
The raw of night’s wanton pleasure
And the sacredness from morn awakened:
Late evenings replay a dancing fire
when each hour blazes thrilled adventures
daring the self to run with passion: jazz music
gyrating through city lanes, sauvignon kisses
from love’s rendezvous, the late communion
with this artist's brush—an expressionistic glow!
The Poet's Own for Greg Barden's Contest
8/29/2017
Eternal Best Friend Forever
Eternal, everlasting, enduring one God without end
Joins me in jubilant jumping up worship jubilee
Spirit sends a scented sunrise of newborn surprises in songs
Miracles made manifest in majestic melodies
Healer when regret harnesses my hobbled heart,
When I lose luminosity in lightless valleys of shame,
Arms opened wide to the abiding, the ageless anthem;
Best friend forever – I feast on flowing fountains of forgiveness
Gracious gift of grace granted to gyrating inspiration
Sweet sanctuary of sleepy serenades ‘neath slumberless stars
Pictures of hearts pirouette in my praise - parading through my pen;
My constant companion, creator, close colleague of comfort
Pensive I ponder your playfulness – knowing my pleas pledge a peace poem;
Savior of my soiled spirit, of sinners and saints – lover of my soul
My thankfulness throbs – tingling thrill - twirling into my thanksgiving
9-20-20
My Relationships with God in Alliteration
Sponsor: Beata Agustin
Moonlight tango
It was a Saturday night, in Buenos Aires, 10:30pm, to be exact. It was a hot summers night, and you could see, and feel, the steam rising from the cobblestone street, here in La Boca barrio*. This is where it all began over a hundred years ago, and you can still see pictures of tangos faded heroes of yesteryear hanging on the walls.
The tango hall was packed with caballeros* in their suits and suspenders, and the damas* dressed in their red dresses, and stiletto heels. Still feels like the roaring 20's fedora hats and all! With a glance, and a flick of his baton, the orchestra leader motions to the bandoneon* player to begin, and so he starts dum dum dum, dum dum, dum dum dum.
The men tilt their fedoras slightly to one side, and stride ever so elegantly across the hall to pick their partner, and together they glide over the black and white checkered marble tile dance floor. The moonlight filters through the skylights, illuminating the smokey haze, that permeates the Milonga* hall.
The dancers have their gazes fixed on each other, and they move and glide to the incessant syncopated rhythm of the bandoneon. The violins and cellos join in with their plucking sound matching the tempo of 2-4 time. The dancers are dancing chest to chest, and then cheek to cheek, moving and gyrating, in time to the beat. As the tempo picks up the pace, arms and legs entwine, and then separate and entwine again. Spinning and twirling, strutting and whirling, they dance into a frenzy, at a frenetic speed, all the while staring with a look of love, (or at least of passionate desire) and what else would you expect to see dancing the moonlight tango?
* La Boca barrio- downtown neighborhood where tango was born
*Caballero(s)-gentleman(men)
*Damas- Ladies
*Milonga- tango dance hall
*Bandoneon- Small accordion style instrument.
John Derek Hamilton
February 07,2017
VIVA LA ELVIS
In Tupelo Mississippi, twin baby boys were born,
To Gladys and Vernon Presley, but sadly one passed on.
They named him Jesse Garon, their hearts so full of pain,
And then came Elvis Aaron, a breath of sweet refrain.
One heart beating for the two, their spirits intertwined;
To restore faith and hope and joy to dear ones left behind.
Elvis grew from babe to boy his heart set on a goal,
From boy to man to legend; The King of Rock n’ Roll.
He lived in humble dwellings, his Pa his Ma and he;
Playing his guitar, singing songs, pure golden melodies.
Country, Gospel, Blues and Jazz the rhythms of the soul,
And Rock n’ Roll, the very core of hearts both young and old.
While rising up to stardom, his pelvis did he swing;
Some church folk banged the gavel to crucify ‘The King’.
Their efforts came to nothing, as fans from near and far,
Surged on with huge momentum, to win that holy war.
So once again he stood there, gyrating at his will,
Until the day he heard a call that made those hips stand still.
Called to serve his country, the nation’s rising star,
And while along that journey, he sadly lost his Ma.
On the first of May, a bride’s bouquet, a blush of summer wine,
Elvis wed Priscilla; his beautiful fraulein.
Soaring in her lover’s arms on the wings of destiny,
Nine months later they were blessed with gorgeous Lisa Marie.
The happiness they shared together wrapped in melody;
Like a poet’s dream, a symphony, a lover’s rhapsody.
Then fate stepped in and dealt a blow that tore the dream apart,
And in its wake it left a trail of tears and broken hearts.
‘The King’, on stage and silver screen, he took the world by storm,
A real hunk of burning love in a GI uniform.
He rocked the house to loud applause, he played the matador,
And danced with pretty Hula girls in the Hawaiian sunset glow.
August 16, ’77 was the day ‘The King’ had died,
But forever lives the Legend, born on 8/1/35.
His mamma smiled and gently beckoned to her second born,
While holding close the one she’d lost that fateful winter’s morn.
The joy he brings to us down here can never be replaced,
Though many keep on trying in vain to fill the empty space.
His spirit fills all Graceland, to watch o’er kith and kin,
In the Heavenly sounds of Dixieland … I hear God joining in.
Elaine Randolph
Copyright ©2009 Elaine Randolph
Amidst this greenery and purple heather
Azure blue skies grace our naked souls
Beneath the Cullins on the Isle of Skye
Two in love sharing adventurous goals
On our tartan blanket facing each other
Noses in touch sharing kisses aplenty
Rapid they are in teasingly smother
Tongues now fence, complimentary
Wandering hands on porcelain skin
Gracing, caressing, she sighs as I do
Arching her back, her breasts in rise
Pert to the air, this soon to join two
Slowly in kissing crawl, to her lips I
Caressing undulations, blushing she
Our eyes meet, for they tell no lies
In loving clasp she welcomes me
Rhythmic we are in this rustic place
Seismic groans of wonderment cry
Skin to skin of loving abrasions
Two fused astride my manly thighs
Gyrating hips in sensuous grind
Internal flows await their desire
Passionate kisses now frenzied
Fusion of two in wanting transpire
A talented philanderer is Wind.
He often visits Meadow. He exhales.
Beneath his breath, her blades of grass are pinned.
When done with Meadow, then away he sails.
With Forest he has been so many nights!
Her trees’ limbs in late autumn he unveils.
Moaning, gyrating, Wind’s desire ignites
as Mother Nature swiftly he goes through.
Oh, many are the skilled Wind’s sweet delights.
But oh, what heights that Wind is taken to
when he decides to wend his way to Sea
where her enticing waters sparkle blue.
Her body rolls in ecstasy as he
comes gusting, lusting for her from aloft.
I think he is her fondest devotee.
Wind comes to me at times, but as a waft,
for I prefer caresses that are soft.
July 18, 2022
for the Five Stanza Terza Rima Poetry Contest
Sponsor: L Milton Hankins
accidental boundaries crush despair easily, fragrant gravity heckles ignorance judiciously.
kindness levitates mindless numerology, overt principles qualm ridiculous sexualities.
transgressions uproot vindictive whippings. xanadu yields zero.
zoology yields xanax. whirls voice underground terrorism, syntax resonates quintessentially.
pragmatic oddities nosedive murderously. leperous kindergartens jumble idiosyncratic
hellholes. gyrating fondness etches disdain carefully. bespectacled academics.
The Highland Princess
Sails again
Its captain and dove
To the Mediterranean
Now so much in love
To an island they go
To celebrate their engagement
For their love truly flows
This archipelago of seven
In this sea of blue
Aboard our babe
As we enjoy the views
Marina we berth
Settle in for the night
For tomorrow, our interests
Its historic sights
Early start
To the blue lagoon
For in the evening
We will love in tune
History surrounds
Every where we go
In its harbours and towns
Evidence shows
This island of class
With it's World Heritage sights
The Megalithic Temples
Still stand upright
These icons of age
To this island their worth
They are the oldest free standing structures
On this planet Earth
As the evening draws in
We head back to our yacht
To absorb our day
And what Malta has taught
Dinner and drinks
As we settle down
In comfy pose
Naked, but gowned
I take the hand
Of my golden dove
As we know in our eyes
Our evening of love
To our cabin we go
As our gowns are thrown
This captain and dove
Whose love keeps growing
Naked we fall
On our heavenly bed
Spooned together
To be sexually fed
Our bodies merge
As i grow inside
This gyrating two
Flowing with the tide
As i caress my dove
Her body and breasts
Nibbling her nape
In wanting zest
Our souls release
Potion so pure
Our bonding engagement
For future, sure
In the morning we awake
To the sounds of life
On our next voyage
She will be my wife
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love2.php
Another bash
Careening dancers emerge
Frenzied
Gyrating haplessly into jigs
kilts lifting
Maurice nods
Ormond poised queerly
Rocking
stretching
Tim under vintage wiles
Xavier yawning zzs.
Forever Elvis
The guy with the pelvis
lives on, and on, and on, and on.
in the hearts of his fans he’ll never be gone
He was a guy who knew how to sing
Gyrating his hips was his special thing
When performing on stage
The crowd would rampage
It’s no wonder they call him “the king “
From gospel tunes to rock and roll
Folk and Country, blues and soul
Near fifty years since he’s been gone
But his memory and music still live on
I am in love
With poetry
With flowers and pastry
And talents and upholstery
I am in love
With the soil and sky
And mountains very high
And winds and breeze that blows with style
I am in love
With the gyrating wormhole
And the timed UFOs
And the vibrations and the poles
I am in love
With the cloud and rains
And storms of gushes running the drain
And the visions on plain
I am in love
With the altitudes
And intense pretense of attitudes
And the emptiness of solitude
I am in love
With you and you only
And your scent which is holy
And your gaits which describe you wholely
I am in love
With none but you
And your words which are true
And your simple world too.
Rising from within,
bliss bursts on our skin,
furrowing each node,
played out as an ode.
Vaporised presence
ignites love's incense,
astride God's bliss beat,
vibrant head to feet.
Thus simply present
in this joy current,
tingle renewal
is continual.
Dance of bliss delight
at play, day and night,
churns to birth nectar,
piercing each vector.
Borne of cosmic drum,
magnetic bliss hum
surges to expand,
our cognitive band.
Each cell stands alone,
dancing on it's own
gyrating in rhythm,
within body prism.
We would if we could
make bliss understood ~
rapture intimate
and immediate.
Bliss is a secret,
which none can ferret.
When God's our sole aim,
we become the flame.
30-August-2022
I’ve got those baby I want you things on my mind
Those ooh baby, pleasured bodies intertwined
She knows all the right places and my pump’s primed
exploration ecstasy, wondering what I will find
nasty deeds, my mom said would make me go blind
Up down backwards, slippery slide inclined
Cataclysmic dual explosions as we grind
Lick lips eclipse finding the place that drips
She hold the covers and bites her lips
I control her vibrating gyrating hips
“Oh don’t stop!” as deep inside my tongue slips
I don’t need no cuffs or whips
I make her so happy she does back flips
She’s drug free and still her mind trips
Faster, slower, what she wants she doesn’t know
She loves how I make her tingle from head to toe
Flush skin, that delicious heated she needs me glow
I’m Double Dutch flicking, she’s rocking to and fro
I wind her tight and right like a well strung bow
Pull back release, hit the spot gently blow
Precision accuracy I find the perfect place to go
She pushes me pulls me, rips at my hair
I could be bald but I don’t care
She pulls me up so she can grab me there
Minutes hours she answers every prayer
Where I begin and she ends I am unaware
Release vibrations the ultimate share
as into each other’s eyes we stare!