Best Hydrating Poems
When miserable clouds assemble,
bursting with drops of sorrow,
gusts of torment bring dark tides to your door.
You feel hope is like forgotten pennies,
lost at the bottom of a wishing well.
Arrows of anxiety keep firing
at your muddled mind.
When you feel trapped inside your head,
monsters lurk inside -
take a pace back.
Release each arrow from the bow.
Let all the pain be washed
by rivers from the rain -
as all bruises heal.
The smell of petrichor will inspire you,
your mind an estuary, hydrating on positive drops,
will replace soaring floods of negative emotions -
as glowing sun rays of love warm your face.
Through anything, through anywhere,
through anyone, reach thunder through your storm.
Let bolts of lightning shake the earth -
ground your soul firmly.
Even when there is no light,
an internal flame yearns to rekindle,
like spring petals kissing dawn's air.
Silent One collaboration with Charmaine Chircop
6 November 2020
Many thanks to Charmaine for collaborating with me. Charmaine is a talented poet who regularly posted on Poetry soup, I hope to see her post more often.
Categories:
hydrating, angst, emotions, hope, inspiration,
Form:
Free verse
I remember clinging on to the naked branch,
which had been my home since the season of birth.
In my days of botanical glory,
flourishing and nourishing in nature
I would spread my vibrant wings of luscious green,
blooming alongside a canopy of compatriots,
shading the world from bright sunlight.
At night we would shimmer under moonlight,
sheltering sleeping nests weaved by 'expecting' birds.
When only baby feathers remained,
and as birdfeeders slowly emptied,
skies altered their aura in hues of grey,
one by one my 'fellow stems' started to fall.
Helpless I watched them decay under trampling feet,
each step sucking the life from them.
Rampant rain arrived soaking the veins of my life,
dripping tear drops upon the ground beneath me.
I wondered if the sun would return to show mercy,
hydrating my crumbling sallowish skin,
but in its goodbye,
I was left abandoned in the cold.
Wondering
is this my destiny?
A temporary existence -
why was I not formed in an evergreen shield?
Lost in thought, abruptly,
the winds began blowing stronger,
rain pelted more persistently -
my grip became weaker
so I let go screaming
I remember falling in slow motion,
being blown around,
twisting and twirling, up and down,
as my
'whole life flashed before me'
Car headlights flashing,
I was defenceless to my upcoming doom.
My end, a predictable fate of fragile vulnerability,
was near, as I prepared for my last sigh.
but before I took my last breath,
I fell upon a brown eyed,
giggling child's face,
tangling in her curly hair -
"Mummy, can I keep it."
she asked
as she placed me carefully in her schoolbag.
in between the pages of her diary..
Categories:
hydrating, analogy, autumn, innocence, perspective,
Form:
Personification
Another lost noon,
engraved as unforgettable
memoirs within my mind,
I’m rethinking of rewriting
and rewinding revoked
reflections of a love rekindled.
My eager heart
is now hanging in the void,
yearning to swirl
through desert dunes
to exhale one more
dandelion dream
in the same air as you,
where quill and paper
were no longer needed.
For times that I
was inking
meaningless phrases,
were buried
deep down under,
as you were softly
scribbling dewy verses
of desires upon
my desolated skin,
rescuing darkness
with starving sincerity,
illuminating and hydrating
my urges with
prolific praising,
moulding every
imperfection of mine
into an abstract art,
naming them
with prismatic gems
on the night of confession,
beneath a sky full of stars
that were burning.
I’m now left with no
adjectives to alliterate,
how this sunflower
soul’s cry bloomed
within your
healing embrace,
where hailing
emotions were eased;
I knew then,
that’s where
I’ve for so long
wanted to belong.
The whirling gusts of
greedy gardenias
may say
roses aren’t fragrant,
but why am I yearning
to be the Juliet rose
in your graceful garden,
where petals glow
like rainbow-hued stardust,
I’m on a virtual venture,
wishing I had
Aladdin’s vintage lamp;
to grant me my
dose of you and I.
If only I could ride
above Arabian valleys;
on an amethyst
magic carpet,
stitched with
crystalline crescent sequins.
If only you could feel,
I’ve been dreaming
of daisy meadows
and dahlia lawns,
where memories
are fatal,
pushing me into a
labyrinth of
mourning magnolias,
searching for
balanced brightness,
although you
still wander
through a
foreign land~
faraway from “us”.
I hear your wings
adorned with
orchestric ornaments
ascending into
the celestial fields,
leaving me in an
astral connection,
with a jar of memories,
where I still keep
falling for you,
time and time again,
as you are my
beginning and ending,
the amorous poet
that wouldn’t
take love for granted~
like the pirates of
this heart-shaped odyssey.
And I shall forever be reliving
the fabulous February,
spent in your golden presence;
although, days together
were somewhat short
and nights were long,
we will rephrase this romance
relentlessly
into an everlasting love story.
Categories:
hydrating, angst,
Form:
Free verse
I want to swim in the golden rivers
of your heavenly haven,
wading through every swirl and twirl flowing in splendiferous streams.
Taste of your warmth courses down ruffles within my ribs,
pulsating your name in assonant motions.
In your moonlit eyes I’ve found the lost poem,
missing from my once hollow heart.
You are the metaphorical master,
with a plethora of poetic keys,
deciphering hieroglyphics syllables,
ceaselessly obscuring vehement vanity,
endured through violent torrents of torment.
In your arms I found a euphonious sanctuary,
calming stormy edges from a malignant abyss,
there I saw grey on silvery nights,
until you breathed poetry into my fingertips.
Words began to bloom amongst
deep ruby wine dahlias,
where seasons never wilt internal imagination.
I still remember the night we embraced a new year,
as fireworks lit up the highest mountains between us.
Revealing incandescent morning stars,
with your infectious smile,
I knew then, you were the acrylic home
I was sketching on sunflower panoramas.
In your voice I've already seen spring,
sowing seeds of hibiscus promises,
hydrating delicate dreams—
drifting with withering ferns and flowers,
imprinted from roots of fate,
ascending mauve memories to cloud nine,
where clipped feathers attain nirvana,
to love until the sun burns into ashes.
Categories:
hydrating, absence, deep, love, military,
Form:
Free verse
It's happening again..
Drops of mercy descending
from heaven's shadows,
hydrating breathless sighs.
Against my will,
each splash resuscitates,
my recovering wounds.
Words unspoken, remain,
veiled within the vaults of my heart.
Desperately, I seek the cure.
But, all I can do is stand still,
observing in silence,
soaking in regret.
Blood dilutes with the rain,
and I wonder,
if this will be the last tear.
Simple Musing
14 October 2018
Silent One
Categories:
hydrating, angst, loss, rain,
Form:
Free verse
... Summertime is growing weary.
Welcome to the autumn rain,
A new season taking over
Hydrating the earth again.
Arid land with celebration
Greedily absorbs each drip,
With the dry and dusty flora
Raising eager mouths to sip.
Running rivulets of water
Turning grasses back to green.
It is showering time for nature
Every plant a new washed sheen.
Summer lingering in spasms,
She must abdicate with grace.
This is changing of the seasons.
Fall is slipping into place.
Autumn dressed in leaves of color
Gold and scarlet, every tone.
Pre-apology for winter
With a splendor all her own.
Categories:
hydrating, natureautumn,
Form:
Quatrain
Summertime is growing weary.
Welcome to the autumn rain,
A new season taking over
Hydrating the earth again.
Arid land with celebration,
Greedily absorbs each drip,
With the dry and dusty flora,
Raising eager mouths to sip.
Running rivulets of water,
Turning grasses back to green.
It is showering time for nature
Every plant a new washed sheen.
Summer lingering in spasms,
She must abdicate with grace
This is changing of the seasons.
Fall is slipping into place.
Autumn dressed in leaves of color
Gold and scarlet, every tone.
Pre-apology for winter.
With a splendor all her own.
Joyce Johnson
15034 Calhoun Rd.
.
Categories:
hydrating, natureautumn,
Form:
Rhyme
They, the blind
Heavy laden with mystery of denial
Empty of eclectic views
Yearns for Island of blinding white light.
They hate the color black
Every woman's sexy black dress
Every man's spotless black tuxedo
Every child's mem'ry of a clean blackboard.
They hate the color black
Black American history, mighty as Montenegro
Bleach cannot blot out its strength.
They hate the color black
Face the Sun!
Hold a conversation on equatorial black
Black rain clouds cleansing, hydrating, renewing.
They hate the color black
Black, the night, showing starlight
Black ink on sheets of white
Black the beginning and end of life -
They hate the color black.
*
Categories:
hydrating, appreciation, art, beauty, culture,
Form:
Free verse
A
droplet
of water
quenches your
thirst. Magnificent
mountains this droplet
comes from. First from the
heavens it trickles down onto
the ground, hydrating the plants
the people the earth. Water is a big
necessity on this planet to us. Bottle
it, cherish it, drink it up! Refreshing
on our hot skin, cool and moist. So
pure and crystal clear. Water is
precious, don't waste a drop.
A droplet of water.
Categories:
hydrating, nature, rain, water, planet,
Form:
Shape
Just got to thinking
Writer's block comes sans seeing
Look within and out
Each now and then lives
Our sable dreams are pictures
With rainbow colors
Look at evergreens
Morning glories and dew, and
piano tunes afar
Remember that walk
On quiet trail by river?
Mind travel is key
You and I can stalk
The very muse known as, oui
Yes we can unblock
Sans electronics...
Our portals with gems glistens
Waiting to be seen
Don't wait, activate!
Take a break with deep breathing
Stretch... cheers hydrating.
*
Categories:
hydrating, encouraging,
Form:
Haiku
~~~
Summer
Hot sultry
Scorching burning de-hydrating
Breeze rustles the leaves
Sunny
Rain
Fresh
Drizzling Refreshing invigorating
Freshness in the leaves
Monsoon
Autumn
Bereft dull
Crumpling fading descending
Break off, the leaves
Fall
Winter
Harsh cold
Snowing chilling
Blizzard burying leaves
Frost
Spring
Colourful beautiful
Blooming blossoming flowering
Green are all the leaves
Vernal
~~~
Categories:
hydrating, nature
Form:
Cinquain
To a quiet demesne
A holiday they'd planned
Informing only that it was bucolic
A little slice of wonderland
The locals informed from the harbinger
Knew of the impending arrival
Some folk knowing the family erstwhile
Others quietly still in denial
The expected stay ephemeral
At the local store to be met
The bakery purely redolent passing by
More pressing was the time already spent
The host in a state of dalliance
Although within propinquity of the store
Welcomed with a firm handshake
Muttering about an expected downpour
Arrival at the manor and raindrops began to form
Hydrating the colorful efflorescence blooms
It was then he had an epiphany
Wondering what these country folk assume
Surprising them he commented on the petrichor
Assuming he was a city bloke with no country vibe
It was only through sheer serenpidity
He'd read about it on his holiday ride
Categories:
hydrating, day,
Form:
Rhyme
Water, we know that it is invigorating
As long though as it’s clean, not rancid
But of course something that’s hydrating
For some a dream, we take for granted
Fire, can be a source of fuel, for heating
Like if our appliances we can then not use
And It can of course also produce lighting
Getting out the candles, if you blow a fuse!
Earth, used to grow our fruit and vegetables
Also plants for other things such as cotton
Again you know another of nature’s miracles
I think by chance we seem to have forgotten
Air, we need an atmosphere to create oxygen
So we can breathe, or how would we survive
But air that is clear and free from the pollution
I believe the same for everything that is alive
Life, element of elements a question of humanity
If no existence just like the astronoids in space
And Im talking about all the wild life every specie
That’s us humanoids if not here and in this place
Then where would we be us humonides
Categories:
hydrating, write,
Form:
Rhyme
I close my eyes, and the FYP still flickers.
A faint grid overlays my internal vision:
profile icons, captions crawling sideways,
the heart button pulses in phantom rhythm.
Swipe—
an old video appears unbidden,
a raccoon washes a grape to a looped remix
of something I don't need to name.
Even in its absence,
the feed remembers me.
I catch myself waiting for a voiceover
to narrate my steps to the fridge,
for text to appear above the sink:
POV: you’re hydrating, finally.
Ads linger in the margins,
selling me things I didn't know I needed—
silicone spatulas, trauma therapy,
a sense of being seen
for $19.99 plus shipping.
Swipe again—
and there’s nothing to catch me now.
The app’s gone dark,
yet its framework remains,
ghost-phoned into my muscle memory:
flick, pause, scroll, double tap.
I try to think of something else,
but the burn-in is stubborn.
I see viral dances in my peripheral vision,
imagine a soundbite stitched with my mind's eye.
Somewhere, a raccoon still washes its grape.
In the space where connection once was,
only the wanting remains—
a phantom architecture of edges
that once built something real
from the chaotic communion of sharing
oneself and seeing the same in return.
What do we do with the framework
when the picture’s gone? What do we make
of the void now that we know its name?
Categories:
hydrating, appreciation, community,
Form:
Free verse
Tonight we sit ‘round ye ol’ Christmas tree,
But not the tree of yesterday or yester year you see.
Lights shine from the bole and tips so free.
We do not sit on stools or bended knee,
Nay, we sit on floating bubbles filled with glee.
Tonight we sit ‘round on Christmas eve.
Each branch and each stem hollow and clear,
With glorious colors rushing from there to here.
Self-driven instruments give us reasons to cheer,
While grandad is grinning from ear to ear.
The world is at peace; today leaves us no fear,
No one looks to tomorrow, no matter how near.
History’s Christmas gifts once sat down below,
But today they fly high, and are able to flow.
Their covers like metal adorned with a glass bow,
And brilliant tints that shine, leaving the ceiling aglow.
The children stare at the presents wanting to know,
How presents arrived when Santa’s is yet to show.
The Misses and Meemaw dawn matching shirts,
Both steady in the kitchen hydrating desserts.
The rehydrator jingles several festive alerts,
“Supper is ready”, sang like a Christmas concert.
Papa gripes at the boys “Someone’s gone git hurt.”
The boys outside giggle and play in the dirt.
Time to set the table, a task easy and quick,
With just a command a table rises from the thick.
Soon from the thin came golden chairs of glass brick,
Chairs light as air, glistening, and ever so slick.
Plates soon filled the table, candles lit by the wick,
By the snap of a finger the flames came like magic.
So we have all gathered round in the most merry mood,
In awe of what has been hydrated and brewd.
We grasp the utensils that are glistening and blued,
As we will be ready to eat and prayer will conclude.
I apologize for the inconvenience, or if I seem shrewd,
But this conversation is over, it’s time to eat food.
A Futuristic Christmas 12/10/2015
Categories:
hydrating, christmas, fantasy, future,
Form:
Rhyme