Best Insistently Poems
Under 65 degree starry, onyx blanket
Containment of quarter moon identity
A whimsically soothing song exuded
In muffled taps & Prohibition era lyric
In the distance,
Snow-capped mountains reflecting lunar clarity
Off its tips of freedom
As we lay on recycled steel hood,
Made in 1950s USA, when it mattered,
Her silhouetted fingertips released from my right arm
While insistently looking towards stratosphere’s vocal chord
“Can’t it be like this forever?
Oh, how I want to just make love to the stars.
Become one with Orion while riding
On Sagittarius’s arrow”
“What about our stars?”, he softly questioned.
“I’d like to be your never-ending shooting star.
To ride on blue moon’s comet, by your side”
Cricket whispers manhandled his romantic clef
Mother Nature’s afterglow, upon her ears, fallen deaf
Inherent waxy build-up from illicit tongue,
She pat his shoulders like a dog
Being taught his first lesson
Her eyes, still sky high.
“Sigh, I like how you think.
You’re such a nice friend.
You’re going to make a woman so happy one day.
I hope to meet a guy just like you.”
As her eyes sighed with a powerful lack of substance
Into the arms of Leo,
A slammed car door supplants the reverberation of the car’s V8 engine.
He confidently turns back the hands of time.
Reversal gears become his new tune
“If you get lost going home, follow the stars.”
As he pulls away with majestic, amplified lyrics
Of Whitesnake’s “Here I go Again”
Going down the only road he’s ever known
While she stands in fraudulent gasps of shock,
Looking back up to the stars in blank wonder
As he accelerates into a new page in his book
Closing his chapter with wondrous questions
“Why would I taste your starlight?
When you never believed in our constellation?”
©Drake J. Eszes
It’s good to gaze at the stars and make wishes. But, be careful what you wish for. For Earth has its own gifts…
All across these scattered shining isles,
Framed inside a bright clasp of sapphire sea,
A softly persuasive wind that so beguiles,
Reaching gently out, thusly prevails unto me.
And in that wind that so insistently blows...
I hear tenderest words only my heart knows.
And high over, behind secluded wooded hills,
Beyond the cacophony of cascading falls
Where the crystalline stream steadily spills,
Rising up to meet the cloudless crumbling tors,
Are gathered the ghosts of the ancient tribes;
Here, secured in their breath...his resting sighs.
Far above, come the clearing velvet night,
Where wheeling Firmaments fiercely blaze,
I catch a glimpse, within those lights,
Of that patient, knowing, steadfast gaze;
The fleeting, glistening twinkle in the eye...
That loving glance that could not belie.
Now at every new dawn that quietly breaks,
Upon brushing wings of long-drawn geese,
Upon waking chorus-song of birds to mates,
My soaring Spirit bounds up -- and leaps!
An enduring love that keeps me whole....
An eternal love that binds my Soul.
And on the faces of our children's children,
I again see a likeness in their happy visage.
Amidst their laughter, as they play and run,
Counting my blessings as I can count the stars,
When holding close his memory all the while...
To find sweetest ALOHA! in joyful smiles.
I wrote the word
then—
lifted
it
from the page
and something
(not silence)
opened underneath
a small dark root
taking hold
where the word
had been
not grief
no—
not yet
only the hush
after
a name loosens
from the mouth
and does not return
The words I buried
did not die
they turned
pale
listening
whitened underground
drinking—
slowly—
the ink
from my crossed-out lines
feeding
on refusal
on absence
until
the page
itself
begins
to open
after midnight
not with speech
never speech
but with petals
insistently
pressed
pressing
against the paper
from
the other side
Where are the universal themes,
the parables, the parallels that might
be drawn from humdrum, quotidian
happenstance? We languish in these ruts
we live in and bear our days with resignation
(some with equanimity) -- justifying
our inaction, our failures to break free,
with feeble lame excuses -- never a real cause:
which is, succinctly, our timorous laziness.
A broadening of perspective, a striving toward the epic,
the grandiose -- with, perhaps, the universality of
civilized urbanity, or of rural natural simplicity or even
stark objectivity -- may these be what we need?
Here's the stale conclusion: be daring,
brave enough to become accustomed
to a singular (perhaps lone) existence.
When you must, be fair and listen but,
when you should, be insistently unbending
to the pressures and opinions of your peers.
And use your mind, your unique voice, and
proclaim incessantly your messages,
even to those who turn to you
their stubbornly deaf ears.
The world awaits with bated breath
pause, listen and most all feel
there it is, a deep sense drumming
in the back ground coming to life.
we all feel it, indeed yearn for it
insistently wait for it to come
then all of a sudden we can feel
the gradual warmth winter is defeated.
He shies away taking with him the freeze
allowing SPRING her rite of passage
everything comes back into blossom
almost battling each other for its space
All around we see new tender leaves
feel her warmth stirring things to life
watching birds fly to and thro building
busily their nests for new hatchlings
Riotous notes peel out thrilling us
as delightfully they fill the skies.
Snow drops fading as crocus fill
beds with startling shades of colour.
At last we can peel of the extra layers
wear our pretty clothes never can we
match Spring's awesome display of style
Indeed she gayly leads us towards Summer
The sea beckons.
The air is heavy with heat,
the sun fries the streets
shrivels up trees
and I feel parched.
Tired I trudge towards the waterfront.
Still the sea beckons.
Sweat runs down my face,
wets my unshaved face,
dampens my collar,
as I plod towards
the pebble lined sea shore.
The small waves glimmer,
winking in hot rays,
inviting me to cool myself.
Insistently the sea beckons.
Summer is at its worst.
I hobble down
towards the beach,
pull down my clothes
and stand in the sun's emissions
wearing my swimsuit.
Constantly the sea beckons.
I trudge towards the water's edge,
jump in and then
come out quickly, yelping.
I feel a jelly fish sting,
it burns red across my thigh.
Disillusioned I tramp back home.
The sea beckons no more.
21 August 2021
The breath in me weakened
even before we became one.
Every palpitation was priceless
Her presence was deliberate
Her purpose was me.
My heart slowed with the possibility
Of her entrance into the same room
She was near when I collapsed.
I was going to be cupid's conman
that day just to steal a kiss of life.
She broke the ice to ask if I
was okay, as she felt my wrist,
It happens I would always pulse for her.
Then as she neared to open my chin
I felt the warm breathe of life within.
We counted the seconds that passed
While pressing insistently on my chest
Two rings meant to be linked together
It was magisterial what she did for me
But now I would need her lips forever.
The snow silently cloaked the land
falling slowly but insistently
creating large drifts against the walls
bigger and bigger get the flakes
A world of white where ever you look
gnashed here and there by trees
sticking up their bare branches
which are now also snow laden
Sheep struggle through the drifts
helped by the shepherd and dogs
fast as a flash the collies mark
until the shepherd digs them out
Still relentlessly the snow falls
roads and trails disappear from sight
I look out over the white landscape
and feel as if I am in the clouds
written in 2013
Silky soft sand
a zen garden
dutifully raked
organized
but fluid.
Rock solid concrete
a straight sidewalk
purposefully aimed
determined
and rigid.
Silky soft sand
a seaside beach
eternally shuffled
chaotic
but natural.
Rock solid concrete
a fluted pillar
anciently built
weathered
but stoic.
Silky soft sand
a pliable mind
persistently curious
unmolded
and alive.
Rock solid concrete
a zealot view
insistently settled
decided
and dead.
love lies on the side hypotenuse
from where that right angle is
often love's functions seem abstruse
lost at ocean's bottom with Atlantis
yet complementary, our numbers add up
by degrees are ninety, true and square
feelings pour right to the loving cup
opposites and adjacents uncommonly rare
looking at all the angles to triangulate
and compute toward infinity's revered
will the points be cartesian for this mate
do measured dimensions seem a bit weird
what of the other points on the line
of our lives, that we traverse insistently
do they see us as converging just fine
heartfully crossing space with felicity
cons and pros measured on protractor
terms balancing both sides of the equal
trying not to drop any important factors
will it be originally good as the sequel
the mosaics of the world pieced together
to form colorfully muted sharper vision
complacent or attentive to futures whatever
it'll be angled and trigged with precision
© Goode Guy 2011-12-16
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trigonometry
http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/abstruse
there are three sides to any point, what's right, what's left, and the rest.
Let's see
Up at three
Feed the baby
Back under the sheets
For a couple hours of sleep
Kids up for breakee
Gulping my tea desperately
Rush them to school gleefully
Walk the baby expediently
This being my time for me
Back home to clean insistently
Do three loads of laundry
Flee for groceries
Video Game Rentals late constantly
Go to work in my office impatiently
Where things have piled up overwhelmingly
Hubby claims I'm grumpy
Instead of crying I laugh hysterically
Baby bellows loudly
Time to change his nappy
Phone rings twenty times daily
Say I never call a bit angrily
Can't explain my life so harry
Don't want it to come out sounding scary
So I apologize gracefully
Kids home noisily
I'm panicky
My office work is not done completely
Oh well, its time to get them to hockey
Feed them first to keep them healthy
Bath time comes busily
Bedtime is love and kisses and favourite stories
Baby sleeping beautifully
My feet are up now restfully
Oops, I forgot to pee!
I assess my day on the toidy
Would I change my life at forty?
Are you kidding
Not this life inspired journey!
I, I, I, I – indeed!
Inspired, induced,
incorporated Inverted illusions in imaginations.
Ideas inexplicable ingress,
ingrained invisibly intact.
Iridescent Igloo! Impressive!
It is immaculate, ineffable,
icy ink inmost intrude,
inlaid Igloo instantly!
I in interjection,
inflicted infancy influx,
innocent interpretations,
inviting Igloo! insistently, in situ.
I ...... increasingly inflated in intend, interestingly.
Its’ interiors’ in incise,
imply invincibility.
Imperial Igloo! I imbue!
PLEASE PASS THE SWEETBREAD
With sorrow tomorrow I will say fare thee well
As I be headed for the intestines of hell
A demon misdirected to be duly digested
While his fortitude and factor of fear is fully tested
With a vested interest in indecency and indiscretion
While involved in an iniquitous insurrection
A sinner sought by sordidness and the vengeance of tomorrow
No beggar but a being who prefers to rob rather than borrow
Just a junkie jousting with justice, judgment and condemnation
A soul aligned with the maligned yet suffering alienation
A spirit spited by speciousness and spurious allegations
And when asked if he feels like human waste he will nod in affirmation
For thus is this the me my mother never meant for me to be
And as for my father he was never very fatherly
And so it is I’ve come to this
A last resort for a lack of bliss
The final toll of a well-worn bell
As I am insidiously and insistently ingested by the intestines of hell
© 2012 copyright PHREEPOETREE…...~free cee!~
I’M SO ANNOYED
When what I say is true,
And I can’t get through.
A flash from my past…
They seem to have no clue.
Déjà vu.
A small wrong that I detect;
A missing check or bill to correct.
Selectively deaf to what I say,
Insistently, I attempt to convey.
When via the phone,
More frustration prone.
A voice in an unseen space;
I want to confront you face to face!
No matter what the reason why,
I’m so annoyed, that I could cry.
Peace and war
Why should the world like a magdalene
Cry over the war heinous atrocities
Abide reaping scores of casualties like sardines
Castigate fate and disregard unbridled hostilities
Why should the world license instead
War merchants over our destiny preside
Amble leisurely and upon our values tread
Inundate the market and imposts hide
Why should the world continue to swallow this bait
Let arms dealers bedevil our feeble minds
Turn a deaf ear to quandary and so peace ignite
Bury the hatchet and peace pipe light
We will tarry to God insistently implore
Yet bring war criminals to justice and terminate this folklore.