Best Him Poems
Tonight my ink is mute
and this quill rests in silence.
I’m searching for the perfumed poem
you’ve placed in my aching soul,
when I found a home
within your aesthetic embrace,
whilst, the honeyed tip of your silvery voice
sketched a sea of flower-patterned stars,
across somber skies, whispering sweet carols
to the evening sun that wanes and slumbers
within crestfallen dahlias.
Was I ever a poet before I saw initials
of your celestial name scribbled in violet vines
across the pearl face of the blue moon?
I never knew words could weigh heavier
than dancing diamonds
glazed in gold,
Until I heard your riveting rhymes
echo rose tinted tunes of lilac feathered longing.
I love you for the way you thaw
frost kissed petals into streaks of
pomegranate prose-
flowing in crystalline compassion.
I love you for the way you’ve painted faceless ghosts
of my bitter cold past with acrylic glitter,
showing me that every thunder-struck meadow
can grow greener blades of faith.
I love you for soothing lucid nightmares crawling within darkness to suffocate my bleeding ink.
How you’ve held my onyx heart
while I struggled to weave silken threads
from emerald tears of angst.
But how can I harmonize the gravity of your spoken serenades
that linger across this cosmic canvas?
Must I steal every jewel from its rightful sphere,
just so that you can see vibrant colors of vehement verses,
reflecting through all that which flickers?
Would you feel me if these metaphors no longer flow in coherence?
Would you be the Emperor
to my throne of darkness
even if I am just an Empress without a crown?
What if I were nothing but a blurred black dot across a constellation of chaos?
Would you still love me If I wasn’t a poet?
Maybe these questions will forever
remain as endless equations
within fractions of no closure.
So tomorrow, if there’s no wind
that can carry these unsent letters to you,
remember my heart is yours till we meet
our unwritten tales,
before the last twinkling twilight fades into sheer nothingness.
And I will still love you even if
butterflies would betray the fragrance
of our undying romance.
Love is not a color,
No hue, neither a race.
All of our blood is the same,
That runs deep within our veins.
If we could lift up each other,
And know that we all care.
If we help our sisters and brothers,
There's a bond that we'll share.
©2013 Honestly JT
Hot date
Can’t wait
We're at
My flat
Cute eyes
Nice thighs
Admit
She’s fit
So sweet
Must eat
We dine
Sublime
First Kiss
Sheer bliss
Soft peck
On neck
Tongue's twirl
Toes curl
First base
Hearts race
Undressed
Bare breast
Blimey
She’s ‘HE’
No joy
Ladyboy
Fussy
Pussy
Night ends
As friends
Written by Jan Allison & Tim Smith
28th August 2014
Poetry can be a critical liaison when words are fashioned,
that do not please the beholder's eyes.
I'm a poet without a pen, weaving woes on a digital canvas.
Forgive my rhyme-less heart, I've sinned in murky metaphors,
lost in my own sea of thoughts, with 3am rants and riddles,
composed in sleepless synonyms from this insomniac mind.
But if it wasn't for poetry, would I have felt his love and deep compassion?
For within his sonnets, I've found my poetic savior,
cathartically soothing these inner demons.
He is now my muse, my reason to rise and write, becoming the lyrical antidote,
prompting my fingers to type beyond just tainted thoughts,
showing me a reality that tastes sweeter than the fruitiest cocktail.
If it wasn't for poetry, I wouldn't have known,
that there's more to this life than diamonds and gold.
I'm now an accidental poet beautifying pain with colors stolen,
from sunsets and moonrise, across his faultless skies.
The pathway I will lay for you
with seeds that I will scatter round
will soon have blooms come into view
so you can tread on fragrant ground
and feel your spirit fill with song
when we can meet among the blue
of blooms that will have sprung along
the pathway I will lay for you!
for the 8 Lines 7 Words Enjambment Poetry Contest of Rick Parise
You didn’t notice my tears.
As you both kissed each other
like two lonely plungers
who just escaped from plumber’s solitary confinement,
your eyes open and wander up.
You didn’t look across that banquet hall
with my feet planted against wood polished tendencies.
Its creaks motioning time towards yellow-signal identity.
As my breath declares sudden death
against lake’s dripping reflections…
…you didn’t think to set your photo album on private.
Advertising lust
wrapped in pretentious cloak
sewed in recycled fibers of “love”.
With ignorant enablers speaking chic-flick tongue,
“Oh My Gawd! I’m so happy for you! I wanna ovulate!”
As I, put my head down
returning to this moment in time,
I had to let my song…cry.
Lenny Williams begins to exude “cause I love you” chorus,
as I walk towards bar
sensing your seductive retinas
stroking against my Latin swagger.
Your ring finger
chained by 3 carat, naïve cut, diamond
motions an intense, streaking caress
against wine glass filled with Zinfandel sin.
Because you know I am your addiction.
Your diabetic lips never forgot
that taste
of my
brown
sugar.
But, you didn’t notice my tears.
I wish you had.
For all this time, these tears
were of joyful splendor.
Because solace holds my hand
with candlelight warmth.
Slow dancing with my soul
in mystery Salsa sway.
While you stand on home plate,
holding your 2nd place trophy,
with 3 strikes against you.
A reminder that my heart,
was flexible enough
to dodge
a bullet.
© Drake J. Eszes
He held me through the maelstrom of my heart
strong arms of comfort, chest of solid might
with soothing touch the healing he did start
he brought the rays of sun to warm my night
the whispers in my ear were tender, sweet
they breathed into my soul his courage fierce
he vanquished all the cold with flaming heat
and placed his balm on wounds that lies did pierce
my heart he touched and made to beat once more
my eyes he kissed with truth, and I could see
On lips his love with kisses he did pour
he arms a haven that was meant to be
To him who loves me with such constant care
my dreams, my soul and body I will bare
Eileen
Outside, a table awaits idle: I join as though it was my companion
Pondering about life as if it were water appeasable to the deepest canyon
Trees and scattered leaves waving alongside the lake facing the north; sighing
Opportunity after opportunity, oh how Ungrateful I am as I whisper to him crying
" A work in progress I am Lord, assist as I sprinkle the ground below with my tears
Lead me and guide me for I shall follow you through out my years
Let your word be used as a sword to fight against my enemy peers
Unseal your lips Father for your words of wisdom are therapeutic to my ears"
A canvas set aside of unfading colors; a mirror painting of the Lord above
My knees gently caress the pavement thanking him for his everlasting love
Caterpillars gather around to celebrate and form to butterflies within my chest
Thanking the Lord once again, for I know with Faith he will conquer the rest
If I had but one last sorrowful day of my life left,
there would be words I would say without delay.
Too long have I struggled, uncertain and bereft,
my tongue silent as though mired in a pit of clay.
Until now, I found myself sifting sand from my soul.
Now, willing to bare my heart's unavowed affection,
I must find the bravura to proclaim it and be bold,
and yet I find myself fearing your gentlest rejection.
Time warily squandered shall never be returned.
So, I'm seeking courage to reveal what I am feeling,
while hoping my sweet ardor shall not be spurned
nor the love for you that I have long been concealing.
Gleaming are stars hovering aloft in evening skies,
but if gathered together, never could they outshine
the luster I descry in the fulgent light in your eyes
when the beat of your heart and mine finally align.
When the pale moon rises to Heaven at zenith height,
its glorious beauty shall emerge from a lunar eclipse.
Not as seductively alluring to be with you on the night
when alas I shall feel a kiss from your sensuous lips.
Thereafter, sunlight shall yawn on the edge of dawn
but your love shall warm me more than his golden rays.
No greater fire is there to be compared with love born
by your searing touch that easily sets my heart ablaze.
If this is but a fantasy, I dare not lift tremulous eyes to see
the response to my avowal, if on your face it is defined.
I shall not bear the heartache if you turn away from me,
for then it would be a benediction, if my eyes were blind.
January 29, 2023
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 26 Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
Originally written in 2016
for a contest sponsored by John Hamilton
I am to him a Stradivarius, a treasured violin
His bow expertly caresses my supple strings
My body moans when tucked beneath his chin
Revving to his rhythmic pulse, my heart sings
I am the delicate ivory he strokes on his keyboard
his adventurous fingers roam over me in staccato
Those romantic interludes he's adeptly scored
accompanies intimacy to the point of crescendo
I am the mouthpiece on his golden saxophone
Our blues brings about passion and lustful desire
From a distance I hear the pitch of a lone trombone
Emotions build with the heat of a roaring wildfire
Across the well worn bridge of his idle acoustic guitar
I yearn for the virtuoso's touch to strum my chords
But there's no harmony, although we've come so far
No gliding glissandos found at the tips of drawn swords
Now he plays mournful melodies on a native Hopi flute
Reflecting our lives in every wistful and somber note
We're both lost, wandering like phantoms in pursuit
of lost love. We're adrift without oars or sail for our boat
With each wave a tear falls as I lay sheltered in the bow
He sits astern listening to music whistled by the wind
staring at the far horizon with worry etched on his brow
Is this, I wonder, punishment for those who have sinned
To single out special people on soup is such a hard task
So many people have helped me, so it’s a really big ask
I discovered on soup there is an angel without wings
Her name is FJ Thomas and her praises I’ll gladly sing
A month after I joined soup an e-mail appeared
It said I was a ‘Premium Member’ it was so weird
I contacted soup said a mistake has been made
I’m a Premium Member … but I haven’t paid
They said the donor of my gift didn’t wish to be named
But I had no way to thank them, I felt so ashamed
I wrote a thank you poem so that they would know
Someone made it a favourite – but their name didn’t show
I later learned it was FJ Thomas, but by then she’d left the site
I wanted to make her proud of me, so I tried very hard to write
I’d not written a poem for many years,not since I was at school
Began writing when my hubby got cancer – a disease so cruel
Flo’s gift to a complete stranger meant the whole world to me
Writing became my lifeline I hope I’ve used her gift wisely
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Since joining soup I began to collaborate
You really should try it - it really is great
Teamed up with a guy called Darren Watson
His sense of humour was awesome oh boy we had some fun
I was a complete beginner and Darren encouraged me
Telling me how well I wrote and he loved my creativity
We began to collaborate as Jadazzle United
Our friendship blossomed, we were simply delighted
E mails would fly and my self confidence soared
With Darren around there was no time to be bored
My world was shattered when dad was diagnosed with cancer
Darren was there to comfort me, often with a witty answer
Sadly Darren became ill and our writing came to an end
I spent many many weeks trying to trace my lovely friend
Contact was established with his family and after over a year
I got an e mail from Darren, I was overjoyed to hear
Darren’s positivity for the future gave my heart a lift
Our friendship is so precious just like a priceless gift
We’ve both had ups and downs in our lives recently
We're writing together again and we’re as happy as can be
Contest:- Poetry Soup Heroes
Sponsor Catie Lindsey
My Poetry Soup heros
F J Thomas
Darren Watson
Truth be told I miss you,
I miss the nights we'd talk,
And the laughs we'd share,
The immense power we would shift,
from one cosmic half of the earth,
To the other,
Transforming,
transfixed on each other,
and finding another plane of existence.
Truth be told I miss you,
I miss the love we shared,
freely and openly,
no questions asked,
no thought as to right or wrong,
Age was never a factor,
Distance could be quelled,
With just a thought,
and I would feel your arms,
wrap with strength around me,
And fall into their serenity.
Truth be told I miss you,
I miss thinking of you late at night,
wondering if I'm also on your mind,
I miss the beautiful friendship we have,
unrestrained, unexpecting, simple.
Truth be told,
I miss you.
Here we are again in the center of the desert
Don't know how we came to know a second chance
drowning in a drought of inspiration
thirsty still we both know that we can dance
timid and a tiny bit off of balance
my hands are shaking, heart is heavy beating
I look into the endless sky of your eyes
here and now there is no more retreating
Sands of time are shifting all around us
shards of absence seem to disappear
possibilities are promises in the breeze
and i'm complete now that you're here
You're the water to sate my starving senses
The master of mirage, you take me home
The desert is not as desolate at it used to be
now that I know I am not alone
Here are again in a second chance of romance
and the sands sing a slow song as we dance
There he sat among the ashes, thinking he was, oh, so good,
Just a tiny glowing ember that was once a piece of wood,
And he thought that he was better than the embers there that day,
But, alas, he didn't know that soon his pride would turn him gray.
There were many other embers that were crowding out his space,
They were vying for attention and were trying to keep the pace,
He believed they were a nuisance and he felt they were a pain,
And he knew that they were jealous, and it rubbed against his grain.
"I'm an ember in the ashes and I'm burning hot inside,
I've a reason to be boastful and to feel such awesome pride,
For the others here beside me are just living off my heat,
I'm the one who is important; in myself I am complete."
So he sparkled and he crackled and he told them all to move,
For he thought he didn't need them and he had a thing to prove,
So they rolled into the centre and they left him on the side,
And his glowing heart got bigger and it filled him up with pride.
Very soon he seemed to notice such a change inside of him,
For his glowing heart grew weaker and his light was getting dim,
But the others who had left him were still glowing bright and strong,
What had happened to this ember; could it be that he was wrong?
"I'm an ember in the ashes, but I'm feeling very weak,
I once thought I had a future, but it's looking rather bleak,
And the ones who I rejected are still glowing hot and bright,
Now I think I was mistaken and that they were truly right."
Now the tiny little ember, all alone and getting cold,
Sits among the lowly ashes and is feeling not so bold,
And the pride that once he harboured, that would make him spark and flash,
Has betrayed him in this moment and has turned him into ash.
--submitted to Be Didactic poetry contest - May 07, 2017
Shall I dare think of him?
The darkest glistening eyes,inviting me to sin.
Profoundly lost, when soft sounds from his throat called.
Twas a full moon Spring midnight in Chicago.
My goose pimpled back caressed by warm brick walls.
Your hands on my hips,time carved,never erased.
A grin, wonderfully naughty, I will remember.
Closing my eyelids in a forever springtime night.
Yes, yes and yes...Then, no,no,and no.
His young butterfly, ever so softly moaned.
Enamored and lost in his twilight net.
Would that I could turn back the rigid times and be!
With you, your velvet-winged monarch butterfly.
Your most willing captive, most joyfully caught forever.
Come now...cast your net~my willing imprisonment.
February 9, 2020
Midnight PST