Best Invigorated Poems
The Maltese Moon,
she draws my eyes
to shapely orb
in starlit sky
she smiles at me
with wanton grace
and spills desire
upon my face
I'm all awash
in milky glow
sacred secrets
Mine to know...
the Maltese Breeze
he flirts with me
can't let me be
his fingers trace
my rounded face
my hair he twirls
my skirt's a whirl
he has no care
this Maltese Breeze
alone can dare
dishevel me
and set me free
The Maltese Sea
now beckons me
wets my desire
in moon glow fire
that rides the waves
as my heart craves
His liquid arms
and all his charms
This Maltese Sea
so vast so free
is calling me
is calling me....
I close my eyes
as Maltese Air
caresses my lips
in great fanfare
I breath him in
in sheer delight
invigorated
by his might
I pause a while
my life on hold..
my heart, it beats
so brave, so bold
The others, they just
walk on by
and yet I wait
alone, I sigh
Awash in light
of Maltese Moon
the Maltese Breeze
just simply croons
and Maltese Sea
he, murmurs sweet
and I am lost
In Maltese treat
The magic starts to fade away
I start to walk, I cannot stay
They've called me from my reverie
I rush to catch up with the three
but turn for one more blessed glance
at Maltese Moonbeam's fond romance
There's more to me than what they know
more passion than what I can show
The Maltese Moon, she smiles at me
For we have shared sweet ecstasy
Eileen Manassian
Mindful
Startled out of nonchalant light,
Wakefulness stands at attention
Ignited flame from the eternal candle,
Energized vigil of the watchman
At the soul’s dawning daybreak
Tingling in the presence
Of every dappled infinite breath.
Rotating eye of illumination
Watchful, like a lighthouse beacon hovering,
Charts rocks and shoals through clear oceans insight,
Every nerve exposed in circumspection
Sometimes cringing in wary expose
Often basking in the light touch of satisfaction
As niggling prophecy finds confirmation in revelation
Throwing off the blinded penury of antonyms,
Embracing flashing synonyms of wisdom,
Tears of the heedful heart touch drab puzzles poverty
To polish with refinement’s shine burnished enthusiasm
For the incandescent dancing mindful
Then banish chary strobes of destitute indifference
Reaching beyond self-centered parentheses.
A lantern of thoughtfulness in floodlights
Of full harvest shared – no scattered crumbs of bread
Baked to stone in scathing flashes of the false
Eloquent vigilant splendor - never morning extinguished –
Torch to awaken lambent radiance of clarity’s joy,
Identity of the pilgrim heart, ejects sightless shades
Mindfulness blends the conscious scattered fragments
For Mosaics in clear lit portraits of charity's open hands
Throwing off the numb stalker branded carelessness
Born of intentional ignorance
Seeker’s actuated incentive to the attentive –
To hear! To see! To feel! To move in birth!
Action invigorated by accentuated humility of grace.
Date Written 6-10-21
Best #1 Poem - September 2021
1st place Trophy Win Poetry Contest - Mindful
Included in Poetry Soup Anthology - It's Still Poetry
Apple blossoms flutter in the breeze. Awakening,
Barefoot to the brook we go, brightly scampering,
Counting caterpillars discovered on our way -
Daffodil and daisy picking this delightful day.
Enjoying the earth’s rebirth, revitalized are we!
Free, like foals we frolic through the fields with energy.
Green surrounds us; onto grass gratefully we fall.
Happy to have found this heaven, on a hill we sprawl.
Invigorated by our rest, in a little while,
Joyously we jump right up; we only have a mile. . .
Knowing we are getting close, faster now we run,
Leaping over lilies lying lush beneath the sun.
Myriads of other meadow flowers now appear.
Nature’s hidden splendor is getting very near.
Over by an old oak tree, it’s coming into view!
Picture perfect, it presents a pure and pleasant hue.
Quickly we approach it, without a single qualm.
Refreshingly it beckons us; our romp disturbs its calm.
Suddenly we’re splashing , and later we will seek
Tadpoles that are teeming in this, our secret creek.
Until the sun has disappeared in the April sky,
Vibrant crimson will have spilled through clouds. We say goodbye
With great reluctance to our brook, which has been for us
Xanadu! But now the warmth of home awaits us. Thus. . .
Youthful frolicking is finished. We have left the stream.
Zesty I could be again but only in a dream!
Submitted Dec. 4, 2021 on Word: Zesty
For the '''Z'' Contest, New or Old -' Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
I need to hide
to drown my sorrow
to not feel obligated to stay a secret
the darkness to blanket my self inflicted pain
the thunder to stifle my screams
the lightening to set me on fire
I need it to rain...
I need to be revitalized and invigorated
to feel serene and tranquil
to be calm and collected
the darkness to bring me peace
the thunder to direct my mind
the lightening to guide my heart
I need it to rain...
I need to escape
to feel the ground at my feet
to feel the wind in my hair
the darkness to blind my captor
the thunder to clap in approval
the lightening to sever my shackles
I need it to rain...
I need to grow
to heighten my potential
to cultivate and thrive
the darkness to shelter my fraility
the thunder to ward off any imminent danger
the lightening to strike as my weapon
I need it to rain...
I need to be laid to rest
for someone to cry for me
for someone to long for me
the darkness to resemble my abscence
the thunder to echo my voice through your ears
the lightening to flash visions of me before your eyes
I need it to rain...
I want to be
your special occasion
To see you smile
like you’re on vacation
That in a cool sorta way
I’m your happy activation
I want to know
you see and hear me
That there’s nowhere else
you’d rather be
I want to be invigorated
full inside not empty
I want to be
your ocean and sun
temporarily extraordinary
your truly special one
The perfect cup of tea
you won’t share with anyone
I want to be
that special book you can’t close
the one that make you tingle
from head to toes
To be in a picture together
doing some silly pose
I wish and want to be
the first joyful thought of your day
That I can be a glorious song
to which you sway
Yes, to be your special occasion
that is better than okay!
For you my sweet love
are my special occasion
When I see you smile
I’m on vacation
In the coolest best way
you are my happy activation
I am thankful for my sweetie
Thanks for being my special one.
I lounged in silence,
Overwhelmed by beauty,
Invigorated and at peace
Beneath the graceful willow.
In this tranquil state
I felt and absorbed
The hazy waning shafts of moonlight
Interlaced with wafts of perfumes
Of the whitish flowers of the queen of the night,
The mighty selenicereus
That climbed the greenish trellis
Of my earthly paradise.
Every color of the darkening rose,
Every shade that hid the sleepy birds,
Every sound of cicadas that sang to the moon,
Every precious second that passed
Was but an undying serenade.
Oh that such a moment
Would never have an end.
For this was an eternal dance
Upon a fair land
Where nature led the band
With extreme serenity,
Directed with all unearthly charm
Life's infinite continuum.
When the river runs dry
When the river runs dry, tears of sorrow fill this poets eyes
The words just won't flow, as the blank page clearly shows
All life dries up as ideas and thoughts they get torn in two
All around us can see it and sense it they feel the sorrow too
For what is life without freedom of thought and it's expression?
All poets like their words to be heard and read without exception
Our Maker well knows our needs, knows us better than ourselves
When the river runs dry, He gives us clean waters found in his well
When we go to him and drink deeply of his fresh waters of truth
Our soul and spirit are invigorated renewed like the days of our youth
Our prayers are answered as copious tears shower down from on high
We drink it all in till we're dripping wet, that's when we understand why
When we rely on ourselves our own thinking from our imperfect minds
That's when there's trouble, the page is blank and so the river runs dry.
John Derek Hamilton
April 17,2016
My Grandpa was inimitable… uncommon.
He could make a story out of a passing wind
and have me crying, giggling like an imp--
this God-given knack could spin yarns of myth
that even my siblings rasp with bulging eyes ,
mouths wide as a crater, entranced from
delicate plots soaked in mystery.
Every trail was one step away from anticipation,
but a story was a story, the larger the better…
how could a pirate turn into a lizard
or a starlight emerge as a queen?
It didn’t matter what the tale was about,
for between, “And then” and “Later on,”
my gasp was sucked deep into
another world beyond my own knowing.
Oh Gramps would pull out his violin
while we both serenaded the clouds,
unmindful of Granny’s holler
from the kitchen. Somehow, no one
had the power to wheel us back to reality –
not yet: Not until he passed on in his sleep
at 68--- my young adult-heart ravaged, minced.
I wipe these vintage books he left for me,
a scent of faint cigar drifting among earmarks
which likely mesmerized, invigorated
those he entertained around his theater-stage…
and I , a dear audience, was the special one of all.
Broken Wing’s Contest: Old jewelry or Just old things,
or Old, Old Poems
10/31/2016
With stars & moon, lovely sky glows in night,
with marathon race of clouds, day is bright.
From scarlet sky of morning sun grows best,
sky turns golden red, when sun takes rest.
Housing oxygen from trees, sky feels healthy.
Housing countless clouds, sky is wealthy.
The flight of a hungry eagle, looks like kite.
Waving trees at mountain top, hugs sky tight.
Birds fly happily chirping songs for the best,
sky is their paradise and tree is their nest.
After blasting crackers and showering nectar of rain,
sky marries ocean wearing splendid rainbow of heaven.
River sings nice after drinking heavenly juice,
Lovely sky is our friend, invigorated our cruise.
Air flows smooth making tide in water,
air is son of the sky, rain is his daughter.
Our flight flies better kissing rays of Sun,
our serendipity is bright,made life fun.
Don't try to pollute our blue bright ether,
Please never forget, pollution is our killer.
The time has come
the earth is full
of things about to bloom
The warming sun
and fragrant air
dispelling winter's gloom
The empty spaces
left by cold
are filling in with green
And death has lost
its grip once more
on Mother Nature's scene
This time of year
restores to me
a youthful frame of mind
With childlike
exuberance
I leave the past behind
I'm running wild
with the breeze
as all my dreams come true
Invigorated
by such colors
autumn never knew
Buds of purple
pink and white
that almost seem unreal
Beautifully
all symbolizing
how you make me feel
I dreamt that you were there,
In a haze, I could see your familiar face
The sun providing a spotlight for our awe-drenched moment
As I drew near,
Your features became more and more clear
You were smiling from ear to ear,
Like an angel fragrant and bright,
My soul beamed like an on-switched light
And we were so close to bonding edges
So close to each other’s face
I was captive in your touch
And yet I felt fully free
I saw your alighted lips
Curved, smooth and pining
As if they had waited for the moment I would find them
And how they trembled with joy and longing
As they took their inevitable, suspenseful plunge
Two lips leaped and landed like panthers on the prowl,
Magnetic, crazed and ruthless
Made for this moment
I cannot fathom the strength I received,
Kissing those celestial lips…
He was drinking in all of my sorrows
In the sacred force of our impact
I felt his struggles he bore,
Ball and chain-
Though I did not feel burden or pain
I felt his purpose in his moist embrace
The cuddle of dew and rosebud,
The glow of this thumping heart
I felt him release the reigns of life’s blisters
For the conjoining of our truth
In the kiss of wholesome bliss,
He wrapped his arms around me,
Tremulous and tight
Caressing and knowing every spot needing light
Eternal moments passing in our sweet blend,
Tenderly, his voice,
With comfort and assurance,
Knighted by cream-lit clouds
His voice, a deep bell scooping water from a wishing well
Pertinently held my ear in trance:
“This is the part where we never let go…”
. . .
When I woke from the dream,
I realized we were embracing always,
Since the day of our union
My eyes became wise,
And I knew that I never let go of him
Not once, not ever...
An unusual pair, yes,
Like vines to a gargoyle
Though eternal too
For the gargoyle’s eyes never blink
For fear of missing the most
Her cold-stoned exterior senses the vine’s bold hold
Feeling and bearing his thorns forever…
Clad in the ornaments of each other
Warmed and invigorated by the sun
My eyes rapaciously closing from the rampant onslaught of sleep,
All the while, aromatic thoughts of her tingling my senses grappling for more time within my psyche to feel her breath upon my face.
Open, close, open, please stay open, slipping away, a final physically powerful determinant thought of her as I drift away, oh how beauty dances about her.
Morning arrives with a thunderous sentiment of arousal; throughout the oblivious night she somehow cradled my emotions.
There it is, her outlying presence, my thoughts reach her, tantalizingly embracing her from afar.
In a moment of pure rapture I feel her compassion, it devours my being with carnal desire.
Elation lingers over me, through me, shudders my mere existence with verve from some inestimable force.
I steal thoughts of her throughout the whole of the day, mind dwelling in a vacuum, heart massive with pulsation, soul ever engaging bouts with heaven.
Graciously my day over, with detachment lastly concluding, emotions now keen with fervor and fortitude.
I allow myself to revel in her exquisiteness, reach for her, take her in, and strip her of the malicious day that may have sought her out.
Embracing her, energy invigorated, ardor consuming, I take the splendor that I behold, reach deep into her essence and release my absolute love.
GUESTS OF EMBERA DRUA
We are guests in this village on the Chagris River shore.
Tribe members of Embera Drua twist palms of Panama -
embrace us each, with this wreath of scented flora,
language barriers break down with food and dance.
In this jungle we’ve no need to be formal in dress,
the natives share achiote seeds to redden my lips and cheeks.
And fresh coconut chased down with sips of sugar cane,
plenteous Panamanian fruit, hot lunch served in banana leaves.
Before we position our eyes upon the treasured trades
we are invited to join them for some entertainment.
Our acquaintances in tribal wear, write lyrics upon
their dirt floor ballroom, with calloused feet.
Dressed in paloma skirt and cotton taparabo, men and women
invite tourists to dance with them, as drums pulse and flutes charm.
We will remember the stilted homes of our friends,
dogs lazing underneath the floor, abundance of fruit trees,
a school in development so students can remain with parents
instead of placing sandals upon feet and leaving their family home.
Our dugout canoe glides back to the shore of lily pads,
we swim with invigorated thoughts and gladness.
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
verdent valley has a refreshing feel
I am invigorated and renewed
my soul feels cleansed by the cold grass
I sit low, looking at the individual blades
the color is fascinating, God’s color
replicated in the leaves of a walnut tree
and the healthy balls of her fruits
spectacular colors that wake me up
and make me feel alive and joyful
You invigorated my mind, then followed my heart
I felt the loss of myself as the dark hours passed
Will this wanting ever end, how could I let it start
You were so clever slowly breaking me part by part
Brief moments of euphoria that never seem to last
You invigorated my mind, then followed my heart
Now I’m a donkey and for a carrot I’ll pull the cart
Slave to a cruel master and forever I will be outcast
Will this wanting ever end, how could I let it start
A wise fool I am, confessing myself I’m so smart
Foolishness displayed by the useless questions I ask
You invigorated my mind, then followed my heart
If you’re confessing your weakness, I’ll cast a dart
You feel the sting, and my words make you aghast
Will this wanting end, how could I let is even start
You want reality to be one glorious work of art
Out of that, only shame and regret have amassed
You invigorated my mind, then followed my heart
Will this wanting ever end, how could I let it start
As stated this was inspired by Denise Narayadu's poem. Denise is a wonderful poet who's work I recently discovered, she's gaining momentum quickly.