Best Infusions Poems
There is no difference,
the saints whisper and every enemy and ally
wake to forever’s difference,
that neither knee nor tongue will deny.
Doubt bit into Innocence and sold
the first coffins wrapped in pride.
Creation became a seed – a box filled twofold,
when under silt, Eden died.
Secular tides engulf their last season
to bury God and Baal,
synthetic rainbows enlighten treason
fulfills the fool’s tale.
Escape suffering to bend
love to an abstract sum.
Detached absurdity when
a false bliss is done.
Not enough of Earth’s blood
to sustain paved veins,
a technological flood
of isotopes and labor pains.
Fiat economies root for
the drug and gun,
made the bomb’s core
hotter than the sun.
infusions of contraband’s revenue
numbs the inconvenience of sin.
A dream’s fence became headstones ensue,
declared wars we can’t afford to win.
Seeded skies less blue to breathe,
the incense of death and device,
ivory towers babel and seethe,
lies spoil the last grains of paradise.
One rich man though licked by the flame,
still sees Lazarus as a servant and to those
who tear Christ off the Cross to make him the same,
Judas still hangs in the shadows.
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Written 10.28.16
Contest: Saints and Sinners
Sponsor: Silent One
How many emotional tears have we so cried, us the unperfected,
The Barbie generational rejected, or Ken doll unrealistic Idol worship.
Cursed by society’s vision of ultimate beauty, wake up world
For are we all not human, and subject to fragilities faults of reality.
Oh to remove the textured veils of the masked disguised,
To reveal the inner face of grace hidden within the soul itself.
For true beauty lies inside the heart of innocence,
Or underneath the timeless wrinkles of ages experience,
One must just remove the blinders of ignorance, to see it
In clarities truth sight line of view.
Where are these mythical people of perfections achievement?
From where do they dwell, or come from these visions of
Illusionary beings, which we so strive to be like?
Nay do suffer the youth of the future to measure up,
To an irrational delusion, a mirages camouflage of lies
Deceit.
Dreaming child of occult fiction, this is deadly ground
From which you tread upon, for reality vision is obscured
By plastic surgeries faults hoods of realism.
Vintage are the mirrors in this fun house of lies,
Let us cover these soul suffocating devices,
Or shatter the glass of reflected illusions.
Then shall we embrace our differences, allowing the next
Generation to breathe a long sigh, of relief at last.
To accept and express their own individuality without
Social oppression, or misconceptions of beauty,
Then enriching the world with glorious infusions
Of unguarded inspirational promise.
What a wondrous planet of enlightment this would
Be if utopia really could exist, unfettered by mankind’s
Unclouded mind of perfection.
Forever after all is short time in the eyes of humanity,
Let us hold our children high and nurturing them with love
And respect, no matter what, not judging them by their
Beauty marks of imperfections,
Instead allowing them to shine in the glow of inspiration
Eternal.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Endearing the gods of enlightenment, dip tenderly into the rainbows
Color band of intrinsic light, softly breathing, as the hushed breath of
A morning doves first coo of life, the lotus flower does blossom and bloom.
Infusions delicate creation floating in the still pond of the everlasting,
Drifting, swaying at the mercy of life's strife, yet in harmonious peace
Its beauty remains perfections timeless jewel, sparkling beneath the mid-eastern
Sun.
Bending does the reddest rose, yielding it's petals to the keepsakes heart
Most sacred inner place, a whirl winds tidal storm of emotions contemplation
Point of origin, it bleeds with a crimson preciousness,
Tangled are the vines woven to and fro, but rich is the human soul.
Floating, cascading cherry blossom's dance, amongst the winds of
Destiny's air, ever gently whispering of loves softness, comforting warmth
Within the arms of lovers devotional vows.
These are the delicate tokens of the for-get-me-knots, showering of the
Lotus, a blending emergence, behold the feminine
Oh let the captive sparrow sing so softly the notes of spring, let her soar
Amongst the eternal skies of white clouds beneath liberation's whitest
Wings of grace.
Upwards, lifted upwards to touch and caress the distant sun above,
Little bird spread your delicate appendages, lie thy offering of the lotus
Leaf before the divine, and may it appease the God's, from which it draws
Life itself from be thy finest gift ever sacrificed,
Tender are their tears are shed, for she the sparrow of mortality.
Exhalted amongst the stars in the very heavens on high,
A beauty figure thus stands, poring the water of life into the deep
Rivers of the universe, and behind her ear lies a lotus blossom.
That blooms eternal.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Raspberry bonbon confectionery,
Lavender fields, spicy infusions
Neon lights, trailing ivy shimmer,
Eerie azure moon, stately silhouettes
Katoomba's eucalyptus gardens
Aqua paint swirls, funky abstract art
Freshly cut roses, Prussian royal
Spider veins, mimic skeleton leaves
Maldives sandstorm, sapphire jewels
Inherited, European eyes
Topaz rich, diamante gem skies
Working man's blues, American roots
Cerulean butterfly, flutters
Reticent, admirably, beneath
The ozone layers,
Vast deep blue hole
Beyond imagination,
Jasmine!
A Marilyn Monroe
Among flowers,
Blonde sensual appeal,
Love’s sweet nature
Aroma for life,
Essential oils,
Born to spread fragrance,
Symbol of beauty
Whispering infusions,
A passionate breeze,
Enchanting perfume,
Bringing happiness,
Drifting into the night,
The most seductive scent,
Of her time,
Inspiring the public eye.
Wendy Jae
At the sound of the gong you appear
to seek some welcome refreshment,
dear guests to be greeted right here
with a cuppa is our sincere intent.
There's a flask of filter coffee
and a pot of tea, a fresh brew,
there are also other infusions.
Now what shall I pour out for you?
You may choose decaf coffee or tea,
perhaps camomile or peppermint,
maybe some barley cup – gluten free,
green tea with lemon, mango or mint,
or green tea with jasmine accents,
'revitalising lemon with ginger',
'pure fennel – all natural ingredients',
or 'wild apple cinnamon with ginger'.
Earl Grey comes in various styles,
vanilla chai or rose lemonade
and assorted red bush bags in piles.
It depends on how you'd like it made.
Then I should mention liquorice too.
You could sample 'blackberry and nettle',
or into the garden just for you
I could fetch lemon balm plus the kettle.
We've 'red berries infusion caffeine free',
hot chocolate, horlicks or ovaltine –
but these need more preparation than tea.
Oh, there's a lonesome bag lost in this tin.
To whatever I've brewed for you
I could add sugar or saccharin,
maybe milk (or soya in lieu),
then lift out the bag or leave it in.
Next time you come over to stay
your preference I'll try to remember
but I suspect there'll be some dismay
with yet more choice than November.
Now I have come to the washing up,
that Yorkshire tea is still in the pot;
filter coffee I've poured not a cup,
so into the sink I'll empty the lot.
Life and death consequences
by two choices have recompenses
omitting natural or spiritual senses
renew the former omit death dispenses
Death’s protrusion
has an all inclusion
recompensing illusion
an Armageddon conclusion
Life has an exclusion
written for purpose of infusion
of private capital preclusion
`t is of Love’s transfusion...
consequences,
recompenses
of serpent senses
then death dispenses
sharks teeth conclusions
of infusions
`t is illusions
of protrusions
playful Dolphin exclusion
insights infusion
removes teeth of confusion
reality of illusions protrusion...
consequences,
recompenses...
senses,
dispenses...
Selah
He thought on all the attributes of Spring
The landscapes deliquescing, day-by-day
On white and gray and drab, so giving way
To all the hue-infusions life could bring
New creatures of all size, some on-the-wing
A bud and blossom dance of shadow-play
The grand and graceful grass and leaf ballet
A breath, alive with things that buzz and sing.
Yet now those wondrous joys of life's debut
Were things that only photos would recall
For Man had turned the living earth into
A dead and frozen planet, thru-and-thru.
Yet there above, the Sea of Suns did call -
A hope for Man's next Spring was there ... he knew.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "March Poems Old or New for Prizes Part 3 Easter Series" Poetry Contest, Carolyn Devonshire, Judge & Sponsor.
Peek, if you dare…inside my Palace of CREATIVITY
Observe my drafty walls, and rhyming dungeons ^^
Enter, my friends, with no delusions! ^^
There are marbled halls of mass confusion…
Regarding your ILLUSION, of metaphoric INFUSIONs,…
Your opinions may falter, upon the alter, compared to other verses ^^
^^
Poetic attempts, and past regrets, are ghostly curses
And with INEVITABLE blunders, they rattle off meter, the echos could haunt you!
Lest you dare, just beware, dear readers…. WATCH YOUR STEP! ^^
As your guide, I’ll confide….people have died!
'Cause this Poetry Palace, has bats in the belfry! (As everyone knows)…
EVENTUALLY, this palace place should be foreclosed!
For Linda Marie’s Contest “Poetry Palace”
By Carrie Richards
Chemically: crystalline carbon compound
Commonly consumed as coffee, Coke
Choices? Consider chocolate
Craziness careens corners
Attitude and attention adjuster
Autumn afternoon activator
Accelerated activities
Ask another altruistic answerable
Fathoming fatherhood
Folgers: fresh or frozen
Foolish frolicking
Fickle frazzled frog
Favorite flavor?
French fanilla (fun!)
Famous for flying
Fan for “FREEDOM!!”
Endurance enhancer
E’erlasting elixir
Endocrine epoxic effects
Essayist endorser
I, internal igniter
Interestingly included
In iced infusions
Imagine: ignorance imploded
Nosy noisy neighbors
Night-time ne’er-ender
Negative nightmares…
Nice neanderthal!
Everyone’s elated
Elliptical epiphany!
Elephants eat evergreens!
Ellipsis
I breathe in the infused
Essence of my ancestral lands
My heart is as one with its beauty
I long for the feel
Of natural grass -- beneath my feet
And the sweet floral blends
How--Enticing to the eye’s
I watch the rain cloud in reddened sky
Bearing the teardrops of heaven
Readying themselves to spill ~
As a sweet tasteless elixir;
Upon the winds, to touch the earthen floor…
I dream, of the cool water’s edge
Watching the fish jumping upstream
While sitting in an old birch tree…
I carry freshly picked berry fruit
In an old papyrus sack and
Dance beneath the moon
I dream of the cool water’s edge
Watching the fish jumping upstream
While sitting in an old birch tree…
I listen to the timber wolf howling in the hills
Possibly in search of his mate ~
I dine on peaches and cream -- it is now getting late…
Drawing fresh water in which to bathe
I grab homemade soap to wash my back
Cleansed, are these ole bones of mine…
Night works its magic: as I climb into my nap-sack,
Viewing totem clustered stars in form of the bear
I can be found in a state of euphoric bliss –
The crickets’ chip, all is as it should be
While camping beneath the stars of my youth--
Accepting of natures sweet infusions…
In slumber’s hold, love’s dream remains secure,
untainted by tomorrow’s blighted days
and quiet dark yields visions to procure;
infusions, gently seeping as she lays
in tranquil seas. Poetic verses rise
to take her soul with rhythmic tenderness,
caressed by subtle rhyme she reaches highs
...sweet interludes of pure exquisiteness.
It’s terminal….the Big C has struck
Despite these prickly heartdart lyrics, man voraciously yearns for a glint of hope
Incurable strikes the ears, accelerates to the brain, explodes into the mouth
How Long…………………………Now, you always wanted a pseudonym, an identity
Cancer victim, sufferer, prey—slithering around in the soul, you choose dupe
When all is said and done, every person is terminal….Thanks for nothing.
Sucked into the world of lines, transfusions, infusions, refusions
Pleasuring the tiniest chance to trounce it, you drink the nectar of the physicians
Chemo that mass, radiate the hell out of it, pill it to death….
Still there—tumoresque tendrils rifling into the interior, spinally nesting, growing
Fear slinks into the soul---every day you congregate in the Church of Cancer
Singing, praying, finally screaming for respite and release from pain…
Oh wait….the prayer to the medicine man has been answered
Remission you might call it…freedom, thank God
We shall overcome it. Can’t find it anywhere
Uh, oh….back in that cathedral again, the preacher’s been waiting
You won’t last six weeks…metastazing its way, taking you along for the last ride
Let’s morphine it to death. Sleeping, sinking into oblivion
The intravenous morphimic cocktail sucks your heart and soul, blasting the brain.
Terminal
Pleasant caresses for the ear,
Offers of phrases sweet to hear,
Everyone worthy to be heard,
Telling stories word by word.
Rare INFUSIONs for our eyes,
Young and old the poets rise
Placing word bricks for palace walls
As INEVITABLE memory recalls.
Letting inspired thoughts flow free
Artistic ILLUSION wars with CREATIVITY.
Crafters and artists competing,
EVENTUALLY in this palace meeting.
By: Joyce Johnson
For Linda-Marie's "Poetry Palace" contest. One of the several first places win
The warm glow exaggerates,
Cafe coffee cobblestones,
First birds gather, comatose,
Infusions fill the empty ears,
Weathered couples perambulate,
In cozy, happy atmospheres
Winter grins and bears
The end he knows is near.
The wait is almost over,
Not that it matters much,
We met on the horizon,
And now we almost touch.
Yes it's more than just a moment
Our spring will soon be here.