Best Invigoration Poems
In the mirrors of Moirai
kismet and karma kiss adoringly,
unaware of this betrayal they label as life.
In the hallucination we call birth,
words whisper like bitter winds,
composing a metaphorical manuscript,
weaving a quilt of invisible inflictions.
Silent screams serenade in childhood bloodshed,
where no messiah arrived to rectify sins of saints -
so some languish among abandoned souls.
Modern monsters no longer hide beneath the bed,
they feast amongst our freshly prepared banquets.
In a fathomless pit, I'm slaying prosaic demons,
before indigo hues turn ebony -
who are they to destroy my dreams?
I never heard the birds sing
in a playground of lucid lullabies.
I still recall the ghosts of featherless angels,
swaying upon swings adorned in garlands of grief.
Their eternal spirits flickering in silver embers,
evolving into perpetual vessels of reflection.
Confused in a realm of revolving doors,
tarnished paths only withhold wrath,
leaving behind trails of trauma,
where twisted trials lead to disfigured destinies.
Glass hearts only break in battles with burdens,
so our spirits become victim to Medusa eyes.
When each sigh flows like a slow poison,
we search for virgin daffodil dawns,
as distractions to numb the pain.
Fatigued from the battles from
those who rebel against our hearts -
we seek solace from sojourners of invigoration.
Blessed are those who connect with universal harp strings.
Who merge with the sacred aura of music.
Who notice the stars before twilight,
comprehending the glory of sunrise,
as an analogy against adversity.
I was not designed to be a flower,
contained in a snow globe,
covered in ivory flakes when shaken.
I have forgiven the blameworthy,
who are guilty for chaining an inner child,
but I'm still waiting to break free.
Before I waste away and my thorns decay,
ordain upon me the fortune to cradle love -
let me flourish in the field where Rumi's roses bloom.
“Transformation of winter into spring shares hopeful hearts” by Poet
Winter’s Transformation
Bird songs reverberate from tree to tree
songs that elate when they reach the ears.
Spring is almost here and the birds are in tune.
Wistful dreams of warmth and tulips abound.
The willow weaves her magic with breezes
by the lake leaving ripples in their wake.
Mother Nature enchants us with winter wonders
she provides in melting snow on mountain tops,
as colors peek through sharing their delightful hues.
Radiant sun transforms snow into cascading river’s flow.
Hibernation ends and sleepy bears awaken hungry
as they venture forth for food near river’s edge.
On the distant forest floor creatures large and small
welcome the changing season with renewed invigoration.
Rain on open meadows grows a sea of golden dandelions
moving in winsome waves with the wayward wind.
Chill of winter ends in bursts of colors in surround sounds.
2-24-22
F Form - Free Verse- New - Poetry Contest~First Place~
Sponsored by: Constance La France
1. Nature
Inspired by the Bridal painting of the Empress Elisabeth of the 19th century Austro-Hungarian Empire -
Elegance, strength as elegance,
elegance of spirit personified as if this extraordinary elegance
was born to be, beyond the devestation of mortals,
so far outside the boundries of the base & banal ravishings
prevelant within peoples' passions and purposes,
escaping expectations of equality,
graciousness was alive within her
like a landscape loved & leavened by a monogamous moonlight,
ebony overcome by the invigoration of ivory,
realising that genuine grace is a monument
of courage confronting chaos, crystallised composure,
she being a template and temple for hopefuls,
in all my experience I have witnessed no woman more ready for power,
more savoring for sacrafice, more able to abate avarice & acrimony,
Elisabeth, the emerald of an Empire,
Mother to minions, mistress of the misery & magnificence of the multitudes,
Master of the stout & savant,
such precocious puissance of personality, regal resilience,
my imagination renders eagles delivering sustenance to her,
bees bringing heavenscent -
J.A.B.
Ram followed “Indian Giver” as poet
By entering a poem in contest
Results declared by sponsor
He was not a winner
Took back his poem from the contest.
Sponsor wrote don’t mind withdrawal
I have used your poem after all.
Thanks for your entry
Help complete registry
Good luck to use it for other call.
*****
Dr.Ram Mehta
This is not personal write. It is purely fictional:
I was inspired reading on the term"Indian Giver"
and have tried to draw essence and humor from it.
There are two popular etymologies for this term for a person who gives a
gift only to later demand its return. The first is that it is based on an unfair
stereotype of Native Americans, that they don't keep their word.
In the other popular explanation, the term doesn't cast aspersions on
Native Americans, instead it echoes the broken promises the whites
made to the Indians. Neither is accurate.
==============================
Seventh place win in
Contest: Indian Giver by P.D.
A day comes with a
morning dew,
For the words, less
to cope all few,
The breezy wave and
tweeting eyes,
Of rising sun, view
the Himalaya highs,
The trancing
eclipses and
faltering trees,
Held me there,
caught me freeze,
And the prevailing
dusky downy haze,
To falling cascade
of ivory rays,
Where I hied to let
it chase,
This beautiful
bounty widespread
haze,
I look & look, with
a glance and gaze,
With winking eyes
with hot cap,
I observed their
silent nap,
And whence the sun
rise and set,
Sparrow and humming
beak to get,
Food to survive and
maintain life,
And live on sharp
edgy curvy stemy
knife,
Above the grove and
in dense forest,
Where harmonious
peace dwells in the
nest,
Where leaves
levitate and birds
hove,
And oscillate with
desire, solidarity
in love,
A bird in this
hustle bustle,
Jingle jangle and
trilling rustle,
Are not base
generations, it’s
true so,
They rise through
reincarnation, and
grow,
Up to our believe
and reckon,
They are alive and
born,
I ask my conscience
where to hike,
Stood here and there
or by riding bike,
To feel the scent of
this rainy December,
Over my worries and
lethargy to
remember,
His never-ending
silence to end
daylight,
Made one statue,
stunned one bright,
And I put my towel
to have a shower,
This congeal water
pierces me by power,
Oh ablution is
enough for adequacy,
Count on, fend off
with sufficiency,
And when I walk on
flossy meadow,
The emerald tint
fell a shadow,
Upon my eyes to
sensory nerves,
Where the earth,
laid with several
curves,
The invigoration of
spirit rises up
more,
On rambling off and
on, this grassy
floor,
Over this belt with
buoying ways,
No alternate of this
land, O nays,
Where I felt about
flying upon,
Falling, right left,
up and down,
Then I move here and
there, up-to sun
height,
To meet buoyantly
this sunny light,
The sun with
magnetic warm and
beguile,
This morning with
candelabra wile,
Cause a man to wake
and woke,
Sing a flute while
sitting under an
oak,
How this mean, a
life less of
leisure,
Won’t you thrill
this grudgingly by
measure,
A world, an
embarrassment of
riches,
And a life with
plenty of beach’s.
Shahid Hussain
Chouhdry
Pleasure and Pain
Pleasure and pain like the sea role in and cover me
with love divine and ecstacy.
Who's to say what will be?
Only God knows you and me.
When tears and smiles grace our faces
we meet in heavenly places.
And laughter erases the pain
of byeing once again.
In lonely beds we dream
and our hearts devise lovely schemes.
Jasmine fills the night air with intoxication
and with the Morning Glories, invigoration.
And the waves of pleasure rush in
to start it all again.
By: Carole O'Terry Duet
Copyright: Dec. 8, 2016
"All Rights Reserved
Spring is a time of rebirth and rejuvenation,
A vernal season of whimsical invigoration.
Admiration is conveyed through this way,
It relishes a bit like freshly fallen rain spray.
A scent of lemon, aloe, and sieved steaming,
Like ambrosial rosebuds blooming in spring.
A glass of polished ruby bears serenity,
It's saffron on silk with a resolute divinity.
Colorful gown of yellow, green, and blue,
Shimmering in harlequin-inspired hue.
It divinely glides over meadow and field,
Where silky lobed rugs swarm with their yield.
3RD PLACE CONTEST WINNER
Written: April 27, 2022
Spring Rhyme - 8-12 Lines Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
Against pressures of daily demands
my physique yields to debilitating energy...
…thus, I admit need for invigoration
to relax with serenity’s bliss, nestling in God’s strength
cuddled by His wondrous pampering presence
while rejuvenated through reverberating Gospel music
filling my haven’s retreat-room
securing me complete rest toward functionality's brace.
Amidst rigors of ministerial endeavours
my spirit grows weary in striving well...
…hence, I succumb to divine refreshing offers
as the Lord invites me for a sweet respite in His bosom
to meditate His wondrous Word: illumining, comforting, upholding
paving for assured revival and thank-propped joy
He grants by our vibrant fellowship together at His altar of grace
enclosing me --- toward a sublime hiatus of heavenly moments.
Along burdensome battles for triumphant faith
my human nature gives in to fleshly cravings
and soul concedes to worldly conquest dominated by pride…
...so I confess falling into temptation, weak and drained
oh, earnestly begging for God’s sanctifying forgiveness
as well as empowering mercy for holiness’ pursuits
available whenever I abide in Christ*
Who provides hiatus haven for recovery and sound well-being.
*Psalm 91:1 He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.
February 10, 2021
3rd place, "Your best free verse so far this year" Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton; judged on 5/25/2021.
What is there inside the about- to- blossom bud
Plenty of light and some dark obviously for us
Or nuclear horror as Donald has thundered?
Whatever, I do look up to your soft green grass
Through the two deja vu purple window glass
In pink expectation we live this rainbow life
In expectation we look for a door and a window
In expectation the bee hums from flowers to the hive
Will the bud unfold towards a happiness crescendo
Or circumstantially we will be in a puzzling limbo
Let us welcome the new year two thousand seventeen
For an end of something and for others a beginning
Some poems to write off and some others to take up
Towards humanity improve our mental makeup
Towards the morning that would give us our teacup
Without elimination no purple invigoration
Goodbye sixteen that has spent all its green
Apples and oranges in colors of seventeen
Birds by the window in their voices umpteen
Standing in the juncture calls the future dream
Let us respond by saying we are ready too
In the tarmac of time holding hands me and you
__________________________________________________________
28/12/2016
My body is awash with serotonin,
Endorphin and adrenaline,
I pounded the pavement with such fury,
With earphones, with such fury,
On ears, Metallica pounded mine
I followed the track with such determination,
While frustrations, with such determination,
Followed me
I felt the wind ahead with such invigoration,
While hope, with such invigoration,
Felt me
I saw the twilight run away,
Slowly melting with the rising sun,
It’s warmth, hope’s ally,
Chasing pounding fury,
And determined frustration,
Away
Cortisol, Cortisol, Go away
Come back another day,
Today, George wants to play
bath water rises
caressing my skin in warmth
berry scented bliss
with eyes closed, I feel weightless
bubble invigoration
Let's say we have capitulated
yes, let's say we have succumbed
to their whimsical naivété and inane wisdom
Let us assume that it is all phoney
that it is a bogus hoax-filled folklore
We shall now pretend that we have been beguiled by such marvelous
exercise of ludicrous folly
Such bombardment of contorted philosophy
But in our gullibility we shall yet ask
in sheepish inquisition and meek certainty
if this course so pitiably slandered be nothing but deceit,
why then does it stand conspicuously so therapeutic?
why has it made men
who traversed through the impossible vortex of
reality's odd challenges?
why has it given Invigoration with hope
the haggard Destitute?
Why has it restored green to those fallen human twigs
Why has it steadied nerves and halted addictions?
Why has it healed the sick and made disappear tumults?
Why has it prognosticated that which we now perceive
Does nothingness do that
Does nothingness tender an insight so revealing,
So infinite.
Does nothingness and baseless belief
deliver from the vague labyrinth of man's ordination
if these be true
Who then doubt's the veracity
Why then disprove religion
Dearest Soul of a Woman,
We are not to be confused of wants, of needs,
of desire
what sits upon the tip of tongue
dancing autonomously in the wind
but still
tethered to a branch
not old, not young
waiting for release, for a life,
not yet begun
what sets us free,
gives us flight, fancy
slowing of gravity pulling us down
elevation
instilling invigoration
is it love?
where we are floating through air
where pain has gone and disappeared
I am the window, you such as light
warm up the scullery
let your sun clean my night
etch circles of crystal
in jade prisms with care
beveled with yearning
where hearts will appear
soft strokes of cheek
blushed with brushed lips so so ripe
render me worthy
of this rich beauty's life
Run
We will walk to the depths of eternity,
our visage bruised and brown.
A medley of alluring anguish draws us to
the basic brink of life,
institutionalized by inhabitants of virtue
or so they say...
Muddled, muddy days form a maslin
while the swift days are soon forgotten
and the bleak cloud hangs heavy
like tar clinging to the sole
screaming with each searing step.
We derive what we know from vision,
our eyes are scavengers and vultures.
We look to others, but see just a veil,
mystery, majesty, and malice lurking beneath.
So we make an alliance and agree to parley
for only then can we truly play
our gray cards of life.
On and on and on and on
invigoration guides our grotesque spirits
to feed the flames of absolute oblivion.
April 27, 2014
Thanks for being there,
For always lending a hand,
And the heartening you seem to share,
Even when I didn't understand.
Me, you and a few friends
God has surely blessed us.
Giving us what we truly need.
We praise him without words of fuss.
In this world of disheartening savor,
I hope and pray that may be,
The light God gives of approving favor,
Oh, that we may always see.
So that a word of invigoration to each of us,
Will enlighten truth's rod.
And we soon bring others into our trust.
That we shan't be disengaged from God.
And let us be our own truest friend,
In those times of need,
A helping hand will we lend,
And from Encouragement we will succeed.
So, to My Dearest friend
(Today you just might get a famous Amos treat)
I wanted to say "thanks again."
you are truly oh so sweet!!!!!!