Best Intensifying Poems
With the tremulous dark vista so far and yet so near
Abandoning my defences ~ I stand in awe ~ not in fear
Virtuoso Maestro unleash
a Composition Grandioso
To Overtures of a Symphony
herald the raging storming Tempo
Staccato Strains cascading
rapid torrents of Treble and Tremolo
Rhythmic Beats a Prelude
to an intensifying Triple Time Scherzo
Silken sail unfurled I embrace the storm of your tempestuous symphony
Crashing~ drifting~ floating~ flowing~ tasting ~awakening my melodic epiphany
Effervescent chilling thrilling air as
Allegro whelms Allegretto
Electrifying sizzling Musette ~
Trills a mesmeric Capriccio
Registers booming Bass Notes
rumbling within your thunderous Vibrato
Echoing claps of thunder Prompt
a spectacular Cadence Crescendo
I release my Spirit to gratify every phantasy in its sight
The soaring Tempest of my Soul liberates its own Philharmonic flight
Inhibitions abandoned as I succumb to your Music of the Night
Footnote:
By way of musical term allegory, I have endeavored to dramatize and romanticize the Awesomeness of an Electrical Thunderstorm and simultaneously likening it to the rush of tactual Sensual, Sexuality and Emotions experienced in romantic instances. I felt that the instrumental rendition of ‘The Phantom’ Musical, aptly accentuates the trepidation, anticipation and elating sentiments portrayed in the various elements of my poem.
Effervescent elation arises and dances to ancient echoes; the rhythm of the drums heartbeat.
Champagne notes bubble into the night sky; night music of Gaia’s children is music to my sleeping ears.
Ethereal flutes singing to the crickets,
usher me into the dreamtime and there I awaken;
an ancient being, I heed the call.
I drum along; wings beating out the chorus;
I dance in skies of cotton white fluff.
Drums intensifying, crescendo as,
Native Voices sing my name.
I am king Thunderbird and my subjects saluting me…
music to my ears.
Written 2-14-19
Love is a swooshing whirlpool,
swirling, twirling and whirling -
intensifying porcelain emotions.
Floating helplessly,
like bubbles in a tepid breeze.
There are still flashbacks
an unforgettable memory,
where poets, painters and musicians,
rushed to liberate their excited muses.
Her
diamond droplet eyes dazzled,
embellishing her emerald dress.
A vision of clarity, curing sadness.
A solution to end solitude.
An unsung song, an unheard poem,
an unfinished masterpiece.
Who's pastels and lyrics were
hidden deep within my heart.
Ivory piano keys,
craving hands sought to touch.
Poised like a pristine soulful harp -
waiting to be stroked by
composed, elegant enchanted fingertips.
A persona delicately designed
in an angelic silhouette.
Radiant innocence, illuminating through
eyes manifesting heavenly hues.
Many infatuated suitors,
hungered to taste the last sip
from her untouched chalice.
Their tongues remained blowing embers.
In the backdrop of cupidity,
metaphorical arrow magnetised her bow.
Succulence of her lips, now forever moisten,
tenderness of her chest, endlessly soothes.
The Silent One
19 August 2020
The voices grow louder,
Intensifying with emotion, anger lining every aggressive word.
My insides squeeze tighter as the vitriol poisons my mind,
How does such hostility exist?
As the sound of hatred deepens,
The feelings strengthen their grip, like a vice,
So tight, I can no longer breathe
All the negative emotions I have ever felt, fill me,
Threatening to overflow.
So long have they been banished…
Enough. No more!
My mouth opens,
An earsplitting scream of pain and suffering shatters the silence,
Sobs of sorrow and grief wrack my body,
Murderous shrieks of anger and hate,
Wretched cries of self-pity and self-loathing,
Poison the air.
Now, free of these emotions.
But the monster still exists
Within the dark depths of my mind.
And leaves faded old are flying,
withered red, burnt orange and gold:
and the birds in trees are crying;
the mornings have a hint of cold !
Autumn is weeping, weeping rain,
and leaves faded old are flying:
garden flowers decay and wane;
tomorrow they will be dying !
Autumn hues intensifying,
with chill days when the sun is bleak:
and leaves faded old are flying;
even the droning bees seem weak !
The wind now like a waltzing dance,
swirling, twirling mystifying:
the beautiful scenes a dream trance;
and leaves faded old are flying !
______________________
August 13, 2022
Poetry/Quatern/And Leaves Faded Old Are Flying
Copyright Protected, ID 1479-793-13
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
POEM OF THE DAY - August 15, 2022
Written for the Premiere contest, A Hint of Autumn
sponsor, Regina McIntosh, Judged 09/03/2022
Fourth Place
Colors dance on the canvass of my life
In an intricate interplay of hues
Intensifying and weakening at different stages
Fluid colors in constant motion
As I age, different colors take precedence
While others slowly recede
Still present, yet less visible
Some colors are all time favorites
Ever strong, ever making their presence seen
The color of Beauty forever captivates me
I immerse myself in this hue
Letting its brilliance ravish my thoughts
Beautifying my life in every way
Truth is another color that graces this canvas
For without it, I cannot live
I need to see broad strokes of this hue
For it revives my heart
The brilliance of the color of Compassion
Pulsating with emotions of oneness...
With the world, with all that inhabits it
It ever moves me to reach, to feel, to belong
Hope, the color of dreams
For my dreams are saturated
In this vivid color
That makes the canvass spring to life
Hope, for a masterpiece to be
Passion, the most prominent color
Seen splashed everywhere on my canvass
The color deepening, ever deepening
Dark and rich, drawing the observing eye
To the wet colors that never dry
Always freshly painted
Bold, brash, audacious, alluring
Pronounced color overpowering every other shade
Passion, shows off her true self
Confident that she is the artist's most loved color
And then there is the color of Love
Capricious
Flitting
Transient
Erratic
Inconstant
Gracing the canvass now and then
Lightly splaying itself across the painting
Bright splashes of rich Gold
I try to focus my eyes on this hue
Wanting it to be evident
In every single image
In every single stroke
A tinge of gold
And yet I know
I know
The color of gold
Is “the hardest hue to hold”
I know this to be true
For my eyes brimming with tears have seen
The “dawn...[of love go]...down to day.”
On this canvass of my life
This truth is clearly displayed....
“Nothing gold can stay.”
Eileen Manassian Ghali
A variation on the poem by Robert Frost, Nothing Gold can Stay
Enchanted sequins move with laser precision
Sensationally choreographed pyrometrics dance
Mystifying wingless flight of earthbound spirits
Steadily intensifying blurred colors streak by
Blades defy gravity suspended on breaths
By Robb A. Kopp
satisfying sound, raindrops end—
swooshing of dark-wet, late green branches
intensifying quiet of morning
thunder and lightning rescind—
mourning absentee birds
there’s no sun
as Autumn comes,
apples
ornamental—
in sodden basket
of orchard.
sweetness
lies on ground
rolled in
debris of
sticks and stones.
whispering zephyr
coolness in its aplomb.
choice
lovelies brim on trees.
the waterlogged bark
with placidity of dawn—
sudden break of chirps
9/17/2020
Contest: Writing Challenge - Nature, Four in One
Sponsor: Constance La France
crystalline, kimo, verse (Yalto), haiku
howmanysyllables used to verify syllable count
*Yalto invented by Edward Ibeh
storm
violent, furious
raging, brewing, intensifying
hurricane, tornado, raindrops, sky
floating, lingering, rolling
white, gray
clouds
Submitted for...
Spring Or Summer Diamante Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
Date written: 05/06/2021
Hurricanes Up Close And Personal
As of this writing, Florence is intensifying and threatening the shores of the Carolinas. She is dangerous, even in her early stages and may pattern herself after Katrina or Irma. Should she do so, the candles, oil lamps, flashlights, matches, and other essential items will be in great demand. Do your shopping early lest you be caught unawares. Evacuate if directed and do not adopt the attitude that you will be okay if you stay. Drowning men grasp at straws, but drown nevertheless. How long can you stay afloat? Don't be like the man who refused help from others by saying "God will take care of me". He ignored the boat who stopped by, and a helicopter that hovered above him and he perished in the storm. When he reached the Pearly Gate, he queried God as to why He failed to spare him. God's answer was, "you missed the boat", "and the helicopter I sent". So, I ask the question again --- "How long can you stay afloat?"
8 September 2018
For the contest sponsored by Sara Kendrick
Picture No. 4
A tale of one mans rage:
I listen to shattered voices
and trembling fearful screams
rattling my inner conscious
corrupting once vibrant dreams
A stream of words trapped inside
left hidden for so long
escape with a sudden fury
in that moment I was wrong
The alcohol in my system
enhanced this primal rage
smacking her down emotionally
my actions very strange
Its like I stepped outside myself
watching this violence transpire
I only wanted to talk
but my actions did not inspire
Physically I may have struck her
but I honestly don't remember
with the devils blood surging my veins
intensifying my temper
Now i'm filled with agony
and torment for what i'd done
now I must rise above it
for my daughter and my son
For TA:
Dedicated to a wonder father who had finally reached his limit.
After so long, and so much abuse, he SNAPPED...
JP...........7/10/06
Bouncing
A rhythm on repeat
Exhaustion heavy
Impossible to admit defeat
Nor to succumb to the pain
Winner is not a title for the weak;
Every action with immense prudence
Adrenaline surging
The comfort of the texture
Beneath my fingertips
Suppressed all that wasn't
The hoop or the ball
Endorphins pervade and taken me aflight
Floating, the rim vastly wider
The length of court shortened
Sweat dripped
Poured from my face
Intensifying, heating the air
Humility all I can taste
As I struggled for my breath
My mind pensive on committing
All my energy to be left
Here on the floor
My escape, my addiction
Where I can leave myself behind
Basketball...
The only love i can call mine
Incredible; Dew —
Clinging to a blade of grass;
Magnifying the shade of green;
Intensifying the brightness of the sun;
Gazing in I see myself.
Reflections turn inward,
Cells;
Microscopic bits;
A nucleus
As the blade of grass itself
becomes a mere cell in the vast earth
spreading before my soul,
Touching it –
Teasing it –
Coaxing out primal instincts –
Memories of new earth that can’t be remembered
But are there –
Almost awake –
Sensing the pleasure of the first perfect morning
laid down by the hand of God.
She seduces me with her bedroom eyes
Her hand atop mine, between her thighs
I can't deny that she has the power
To lie with me every waking hour
I couldn't oppose her advances, she has a grip on me
With her soft angelic voice and undamaged anatomy
In a trance from her bedroom eyes
Drawn into her soul, a part of me dies
She braises my fingers across her smooth shaven lips
Assures me she’s aroused, the pleasure drips
Unwrapping her body of what sets me apart
From exposing her skin, God's work of art
A teardrop falls from her bedroom eyes
A happy tear to my surprise
She remains admirably brave, although, this is foreign
She has not been defiled by other men
Her narrow entrance puts me to shame
Intensifying my steady flame
God sent her to me, as an answer to my cries
I reside under the spell of her bedroom eyes
Slowly over the hours it simmered.
intensifying as the heat deepened.
Senses now on fire in anticipation.
Skin heating up in expectation.
Blood now hot and bubbling.
Flames everywhere shooting.
Stomach growls as it is hit.
Legs give out and so I sit.
Wow that was one hot curry
Never ever good to hurry.
If you thought it something different
Would a woman really be so flagrant?
written 24/07/2015