Best Imaginationheart Poems
A Fairy Tale
By the Poets Listed After the Poem
Once upon a time, long-long ago there was a wishing star.
She, unlike a billion other bright shining stars, was magic.
Bored with her galaxy, she began to wander far away.
Streaking through the atmospheres was very hot, but not tragic.
Pausing to wonder with much time to ponder, she cast her spell.
“Tiny goblins on Halloween, by light one wish I will grant.”
Who should be the recipient of this very special wish?
Earth children roaming streets that night in one hand my gift, I'll plant.
Oh who should receive my amazingly special gift of light?
So many young ones, in who's humble heart this wish I could grant.
Out of all the precious children that have come within my sight.
The child who has the purest wish is the one I will enchant.
I'll sprinkle on my chosen one, crystal glitters, gold balloons.
A ride follows to fairyland, ending on the golden moons.
With a magical flight through a rainbow high where dreams come true,
And a house of candies in the land of Marshmallow-Lagoons...
Oh, that magical light shining through sweet cotton candy clouds,
Her wish she may...her wish she might...there's one ghoul she'll bless that night.
Of princesses, fairies and goblins, a good heart will be found.
Quickly child, make your pure wish, before the magic star takes flight.
CONTRIBUTING POETS: Charmaine Chircop, Carolyn Devonshire, James Marshall Goff, John
Loving III, Robin Gass, Raul Moreno, Ruben D. Ortellao, Patricia Prescott,
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Peace has gone from my heart like a thief that is lie in waiting ready to emerge from
hiding as result leaving me frightened and confused. I am paralyzed from
uncertainty, and my mind wonders as if I am in shocked from the sudden impacted
from being mugged by the unexpected thief. The peace of my heart is snatched
away without a question, if I should relinquish it or not. My heart lies naked without
the covering of tranquility. I feel so cold and scare not knowing if my present state is
indefinite. I am vulnerable because the secure housing of my heart is gone, and
maybe forever. The foreboding of calamity lies at the entrance, and I am panicky
knowing what the future entails, frighten because it has not yet unfold.
her legs unending
she was wearing a mini
her crimson red lips
his heart pounding rapidly
her eye bags slowed his heart rate
*Missy Nikko's "weird"
body part of choice eye bags,
combined with Carolyn's body
part of choice the heart :) *
20/04/2011
A mirror hang upon the wall
Within a frame of brass,
Edges moulds the leaves of fall
Around the silver glass.
I stretch my fingers touching
The cold hand that reach to mine,
A pen the fingers clutching
Moving in a unseen line.
Ink stains on my fingertips
Reflect, exact the same,
Words that form upon my lips
Repeated in the frame.
Your eyes are windows to your soul
A phrase I once heard said,
reflect in mirrors good or fowl
In which your heart is read.
But in this glass before my face
I see my eyes dark blue,
of my soul there is no trace
Nor of my heart a clue.
A mirror in a mirrors glass
Reflecting truth or lies?
Emotions in a frame of brass
Reflected In my eyes.
I think I know of why the caged man sings,
Ballads beyond a broken heart of blue,
In chains of love singing to free his wings,
From hour to hour hymns heard by heavens hue.
Blue skies above him teased his teary eyes,
Worn out watching the wind with weary ways,
Inside of blue himself; through love he cries,
Escaping hell through hymns dost his heart prays.
Deceived by life, he sings intimate death,
Though morbid blue, he breathes ballads that bless,
A love that never loved his precious breath,
Inside of flesh, enslaved by chains of flesh.
Forsaken by feelings that wish to fly,
So long a song unsung searching the sky.
The shadows playing with the silvery beams,
In devils' imagination her dreams,
Lifted veils and her heart aches for a kiss,
Demon's bride besieged in her nuptial bliss.
Heavy black and heavenly lace to wear,
Taken crudely by the predator,
Cringes as her sister watches in awe,
Waits her turn to be seduced by her mate.
Thus explored and repeatedly provoked,
Bond and tuned to his pleasure and passion,
She moans and cries in the monster's desire,
Bursts to climax tamed by his raw strikes.
Condemned to play second fiddle her heart cries,
Torn between her co-born and the tyrant,
She pleads for her unhampered induction,
Into hell's systematic subservience.
A final letter from the heart my love
You sat in Vermeer’s room, maid by side;
As daylight positioned at your writing place,
Decanted through the stained glass view-
Where she did stand; there; observing
Those that came and went.
Your quill did match your heart that morn’
For it beat your breasts with all your love
As the busy conquests drew to a close.
Waiting there, as long as those drapes hung,
That very room where once, you tasted intimacy-
While others found Moses; and looking on.
Your seal remains floored reminding your maid
That her ways were mere pacifiers- those days;
Such an amusing and sweet thing she was.
And of your meeting place? She did ready,
While you napped, that afternoon slipped by,
As your Alfred and Francesca stole away; and you?
Gathered yourself, returning and only keeping diary;
Of thoughts, moments in time, betrayed in ways
Similar to those your maid witnessed as you wrote;
For nothing is ever as ordinary as that painted,
In a room Vermeer visited with his brush.
I feel my muscles
cord up with tension ,
can almost hear them creak
in the strain.
Lumbering over
I lean in close,
he seems
on the verge of passing out
face white as paste
and he flinches as my breath
smacks him in the face.
I reach down
and shove a claw
into his right leg,
that gets his blood flowing again
and his scream intoxifies me,
I snap my teeth
into his shoulder
and fling him against the wall.
He hit the floor
and I leap upon him,
sinking in my claws,
locking his corpse beneath me.
Lashing at him
with my paws
I dig into his chest
tearing away
the flesh
and snapping
the ribs like twigs…….
I pause…
to watch the heart
throb and convulse.
Blood dripping
from my now matted fur
I begin
by biting off his right arm
then grabbing hold
of the wrist
I tear off the bicep
with my jaws
mashing it with my molars,
and as it slides
down my throat,
Always watching
his expression,
I shiver.
With heart rate speeding
I rip away
the chunky part
of the right thigh,
pin it to the floor
then devour it
resting my torso
upon his.
I eat
into the left leg
hunkering down,
guarding my prey,
there is so much blood
I can feel the hair
on my snout
weighed down
like when you walk
in a heavy rain.
I stop long after
the heart
became still,
push my bloated body
off the remains
and lope away,
almost drunkenly.
And if
there was some one there,
they’d see
the grin of satisfaction
upon my face,
and me
licking the juicy chunks
from my snout
as I depart.
Her songs were hers yet us she gave...
That by which her heart we'd save.
From troubles bairn o'foolish strife...
Of prospect nil or turmoil rife.
Amid those mountains deep with dew...
Heard these words just those few.
Silent song or rhythmic chant...
Mountain through her did so rant.
Took we did with breathless dare...
Her burdens oh so great.
Carried then through time aware...
So such with to fear abate.
On sang she to us all...
Thus her heart now doth fall.
Into that which best be felt...
Within such song her tear did melt.
SeaWolf
©
A rose has been growing here with tears for years;
In my heart and in my cell
But now I must send it out, for without a doubt
It doesn’t belong here in this hell
So to you I give this rose from the garden of my heart,
And though it was raised in prison, please allow it a fresh start
Let it warm your heart with love, keep it safe and strong;
For it has lived on tears but it will never do you wrong
It needs a lot of love, so don’t ever make it cry
And most of all, don’t send it back
For the prison rose will surely die!!!
*See me on FaceBook (Jimmy M. Anderson) There are 3 pixs of me.
(07/09/11)
Can we write of centuries past of things
That we do not know, and can we recall
Things we read which puts our hearts aglow.
Can we feel Romeos words as he called to Juliet.
And can we feel Juliet s heart as she looked down
From her balcony.
when she felt her heart bursting
Wanting to be free.
Can we see Sampson and Delilah as
She cut off his hair.
Did she do it out of spite
Or did she really care.
Can we see Helen of troy s reaction
When they climbed out of the wooden horse
Did she truly love him, and did she feel remorse.
Can we feel MARY S pain as she had
To give up her begotten son
And did others feel the pain
Or was she the only one.
Can we imagine being nailed to that cross.
And the clothes that the soldiers did not keep
to the ground it would be tossed.
Can we imagine if we did not have
Hope, love, and faith
This is something I care not to contemplate.
Can we live without love-how would we survive
“CAN WE” ??????
I saw her across the bar, looking beautiful
I saw that look in her eyes but noticed it not
I was alone, living in another world.
My heart broken by another, my heart aching
My veins pumped with alcohol, I felt only hurt
My vision blurred as the night drew in,
As I trudged my way from bar to bar.
I seeked only slight comfort in the drink
The night drew on and I happened upon a club
She was there again, across the room
She was moving with grace and fluidity
It was intoxicating to watch
Her eyes caught mine, it was like a dream
I could feel my heart race, my mind flutter
I missed my love so much, and yet not at all
She closed in, seeming to move like the smoke in the room
The closer she came the more i forgot of my past
With her milky complection she seemed to glow
Her fingers gently carressed my cheek
It had urgency and yet seemed tentative
It was an almost perfect mix
She brushed my skin and made my body tingle
The lust built as she whispered words
She serenaded my soul and heart
We left, together, she took me away
Her sharp teeth felt so good as they took hold
Ripping into my flesh, a pain so lustful
With frightning strenth she pinned me,
Draining my heart of all feeling
All there can be is lust
All there can be is death
All can be is her draining of my Soul
what fool
had ever lived
lock his heart
inside a shell
nor nothing to give
thus his soul breaks
in this crowded world
that bring forth
the tears of pain
somewhere inside
rest the heart of
the hollow tin man
My heart is slowly falling,
Falling into this thing called love.
And
Softly being swayed back and forth,
By its golden chains.
The chains:
The chains are now slowly breaking,
And rusting away into dismay as she leaves.
And
As she screams away all the love,
Like red leafs on a dusk tree.
Yet my heart still looks forward to seeing her pale,
Face once more in the valley of woe.
The darkness:
Shame and deceit,
Weaken my body.
And the darkness that surrounds me,
Never felt so comforting.
As I fade away into its bosoms,
For only she knew how to keep me,
In touch with this thing called life.
Now I’m afraid, I’m alone, and falling into a void,
Where beauty has no presence.
I love music,
It’s what makes my heart tick.
It can make my mood turn mellow or blue,
Put a smile on my face when I think about you.
Music and melodies can tear the heart right out of you,
Or raise you to a higher plain as the rhythm gets a hold and won’t let go.
Starts at the head till it finds your feet,
Then it gets hard just trying to sit there in your seat.
Some lyrics will bring on the tears,
Or melt away the years.
As they open the gate of hidden memories you thought you had forgot,
As if by magic they resurrect an old memory of a different time or spot.
Yeah, I love music,
I guess that's how I get my kicks.
Music is like history or maybe a way to gauge time,
Short stories written down in verses that usually have reason to their rhyme.