Best Kohl Poems
I am like an avalanche slithering in shivering angst,
free-falling into an abyss of an aching era,
where luminous lakes reflect pixelated regrets,
for time throws my canvas into splitting helplessness,
and mind plays tricks in aimless frequency,
framing toneless tenors within paralyzed psyche,
pushing and pulling ivory strings of my ebony heart.
Now I’m dwelling in the chaotic caves of a calculative carnivore,
unable to grasp the lunar light that envelopes forsaken fields,
while crooning caged memories, like a pensive nightingale,
pondering, would the moon ever untangle these starless thoughts?
Or was it written on the wailing walls of melancholic museums~
that I was meant to drown in dizzying darkness?
I’ll rest my pen in a glass casket of equations~
cloaking this crippled conscience from seeing beyond vague visions,
detached from kohl eyes, eager to steal my voice,
as I keep sinking in black and white polarity,
pausing curative prose in screeching silence.
L o v e, a withering star ~
awakened amidst silence
that swirls through the night sky
like fairy lights,
i l l u m i n a t i n g
the maze of midnight
with kaleidoscopic traces
of what once soared…
But in the chasm of loss and agony,
I found the gossamer essence of hope
from the
glass-winged arms of metamorphosis…
Now I breathe you, organza moonlight,
e c l i p s e d by crimson claws
of condescending constellations,
while faith sleeps within the pale husk
of mythical mists,
drinking pomegranate ambrosia,
from the rose-gold horn
of Persephone’s throne,
as black-magic thickets thrive from
the cursed lips of tendrils ~
harvesting pain,
rustling through the vineyard
of violet orchids
amidst this heart that sings of
evergreen springs,
etched with sins and tears
onto catacomb cellars of wickedness…
Listen to your heartbeat,
there, in the mirroring cadence
of soft-spoken rhymes,
I live and reside ~
wandering through the hallways;
an asylum of metaphors
turning wraiths of words
into wisterias,
whirling in the whimsical wind,
a castle of alliterative archives
emanating empathic embers
that burned capricious chords
to carve calligraphic clemency
with Cleopatra’s gold
seized from the Egyptian deserts…
But it is through the
satanic soul of kohl seas
I found the bluest streak of bliss ~
my Felix Culpa,
sprinkling firefly dust from afar ~
I see you, awaiting the return
of butterflies…
For you and I,
we found L o v e,
inhaling poetic promises,
exhaling toxic tercets ~
with syllables of stressed desire,
you showed me rainbows of sage,
taught me the rhythm of truth,
to silence the thunder
that roars in rage
within the fragile psyche of life,
and in your presence,
I loved and learned ~
to curate colors
from
the ethereal
dreamscape of d u s k…
Once more you appear, crossing my threshold
after breaking the lock to memory's door.
Your illusion enters without bothering to knock,
stepping into my room as a wavering shadow.
You breach the barrier of cries and goodbyes,
escaping from the grave where lost love slept.
I wept long ago and swore an oath to my heart,
never would I allow you in, as a lover or friend.
Tell me, against your invasion, how do I defend?
How can I restrain you from entering my thoughts,
and if I knew, would you still haunt my dreams?
Through eyes blurred by streams of warm tears,
would you leer as a voyeur, lurking at my window?
Why do you channel the deep furrows of my soul,
gazing at me with mournful eyes blackened by kohl?
I've given up pretending that you're not here.
Here, in the chamber where we were never apart.
Please leave me in peace if you once held me dear.
On velvet nights when the moon is fully ripened,
I'm still drawn to you like the magnetism of her pull.
I tremble each time my lips whisper your name.
With each intrusion, I am powerless to defend myself,
for my heart wears no armor, my door has no sentry.
Vulnerable mortals such as I, must bear this burden
when a wraith from an erstwhile love desires entry
October 14, 2022
2022 Marathon Mile 17 Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
Originally posted in May of 2018
as the wind whistles
warm wishes
echoing the
sea-salt silence
flowing beneath
silver-kissed waves
I think of synonyms for
love
illustrating hate
in elusive rhythm...
for stars never
envy the moon
but silently orchestrate
a cosmic choir
of coruscating crystals
in incandescent cadence
swirling confetti across
the nocturnal sky~
a compelling
commemoration
that you and I cherish
in technicolor tercets…
I ponder
why do green-eyed gazers
spinning
lilac lies
within
jaded journals
along jeweled realms
rage with
j e a l o u s y?
pushing my quivering quill
to question:
am I not art
am I not the muse
am I not worthy
am I not the ache
romanticized with roses...
perhaps these words
are mere
remnants of ramblings
ricocheting
rhapsodies
within the
breath of perfumed heartbeats
that the kohl-cold souls
can never taste...
so I purge
inked petals
upon the digital canvas,
that feels not
lyrical lifelines
bleeding ballads
h i d i n g and
h e a l i n g
behind
murky metaphors
and
alliterative adjectives
weaving h o p e
amidst
the
crestfallen
sighs
of
bittersweet
horizons…
I
dreamt of
a poem
forgot the words
As beneath the salty cold brine of tears
silence floats, whilst I’m coloring kohl rain
in metaphors
of regret
across
blood
red
ruby
carnations
that bleed silken
sonnets for an ocean-dipped catharsis
I sketch musky infernos with kohl ink
when dead wings of flurry moon lace my
copper blue lashes and ripples
of faith crash furthest seashores,
Draping stelliform-soul
in strokes of starlight
which drizzle as
lemon drops
upon
pink
sheet-
canvas,
So when red
letters twirl like
blood stained cranberries,
rose-gold amulets will
always save the salted flesh
of sun and wildflowers shall shine
as magenta peony-bows in
maroon hair-strings, forever breathing dreams.
Freezing in the midst of hostile ice monsoon
triggering aching woes beneath blood and bones,
I search for a quilt woven in sanguine rune
silken feathers of clementine and gold tones-
body ails, yet spirit soars, sings to the moon,
beyond clouds obscured in kohl sleets of hailstones
whilst rhapsodies of nature serve light to calm-
scattered scars in the air, like cosmic mint balm
But as skies swing heavy, and coldness seeps in,
hope breathes from sapphire dews of rain waltzing free,
for when mists of nature envelopes my skin,
I find traces of peace from roots of my tree
amidst the piercing pain pulsating within-
fields of eagle ferns, the tranquilizing key,
sets a serene scene with silver sequined lines,
sprinkling zests of zen from inner sun that shines.
Sometimes mind gets blanketed in confusion,
sinking behind steel walls sculpted in distress
although shadowed stars swirl like an illusion,
faith is the thread for thin needles to redress
and restitch fragmented frames of vague vision.
So let suppressed agony slowly digress
in pearl pages of cathartic tomorrows-
now my ink abandons yesterday's sorrows.
I blow smoke of dreams to daffodil streams,
beneath the sky, engrossed in love’s last sigh,
while this heart quivers, drunk on astral fever,
in the kohl-lined arms of the cold midnight,
kissing my soul in silver slivers…
O velveteen warrior, allow my gaze to trace lifelines~
sailing interstellar seas of electric stars
wrapped in whimsical wisps,
to leave our closing phrase on the lips of moon-haze,
as I breathe the silk of Luna’s wistful breeze~
drawn from the rosy dusk of his restless repose...
And this pearl ~ the nebulous clarity ~
emblazoned in pixelated poetry,
shall be the timeless spark of twin flames,
amidst the pull of bruised-blue silence…
One swift move tempting
sunburned curls to find
a whole new place
across her face
around vanilla shoulders
dress clings to hips
purple arranged on pouting lips,
kohl around almond eyes
calculating,
investigating lustful look
~~~~~~~~
twirl, swirl,
oh yes girl
High heels tango, abrazo,
hand on back, barrida
full stop... freno
breathless hunger
Tango. Castigada
***
May 15, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
Somewhere between fallen flares
of an untouchable phoenix~
and the nostalgic red of crimson horizons,
I feel the amethyst embers of longing
illuminate rambling roses
that mourn within my hibiscus heart.
O beloved Love,
I long to be your tulip twilight
adorned with unfading mauve haze,
where green-gold scribbles of sunset
erase interlaced flaws,
to harbor blue-black mists
twirling above tides of tainted topaz…
and I will thrive amidst
storms of insecurities,
as the Swarovski Horse of Poseidon,
crystallized in resilient silver,
gleaming in glowing grace,
beyond dews of darkness,
shifting the aroma of pomegranate’s kiss.
There, peonies of peace
feast upon decadent delicacies
in the barren garden ~
flourishing with jilted jasmines.
I wonder, will these metaphors
woven across my canvas in perfumed ink,
speak the songs of my splintered spirit?
For the moon no longer sings
the melody of my soul,
and I refuse to choreograph
a diabolical dance for resentful ravens,
collecting twigs from tortured trees,
as the crescent smile
wanes into neon nothingness.
Yet while the witching hour beckons
skeletal remnants to rise
as celestial ashes,
I go insane, lose my incandescent light
that glistens in opalescent hues,
leaving my quill to suffocate in solitude,
unable to grasp the musical muse,
to stitch sorrowful sonnets
with seething synonyms.
O stringed sapphires
sailing above the meadow of melancholy,
forgive this coffin curse ~
it holds carvings of a corpse bride,
aching to be seen beyond the kohl shawl~
cloaking the frost-glazed silhouette,
weeping woeful elegies
while slumbering in the
amorous arms of Orpheus,
for in your absence, I cannot breathe,
and sleep screams
like a long-forgotten miracle,
needing an oracle to
alchemize a soothing potion…
So lay me down in a bed
of deep daffodils and thorns,
watch me plead for merciful rain,
to free obsidian tears of terror,
while my psyche bleeds
grammatical mistakes.
I am forever trapped in tremors of agony,
unable to reopen galactic gates
of euphoric escape,
so tonight I’ll let the torrents of torment
embrace inked insanity…
I’m lost in a field of forsaken flowers,
counting crestfallen stars…
and as the lavender moon ascends
to rinse away cold kohl tears~
I call your name in soft cadence,
pondering, will you ever hear me?
Brave is the rose caught in November’s thorn
While she endures nights of chill and snow,
Awaiting gold daylight's warmth to bestow---
And liven her frame…her mouth drooped, forlorn.
Gently, new moon peeps into kohl of eve
While its luster reflects on this bud , soft
Like a pubescent ovule held aloft
By elms guarding her round shape NOT to cleave.
Though one kind-hearted owl perches nearby
Mutely disapproving this ghastly tread…
An obscure fog sprays crystals overhead
Instead, wings lock against nip of the sky.
How unwavering…in her innocence
Morning rises, its lucent gleam so young
That frozen dusk pales with wheezes unsung…
Oh, grit of a rose saved by providence!
Written 9/10/2018
Contest of Broken Dream
Enclosed Rhyme - September, 2018
The sky scatters pixie dust~
across orchards of dragonflies;
while in sunflowers, the stars do trust,
tracing tales through kohl-lit eyes.
A fairy cloaked in soft florals~
fragranced moon-mists and rhinestone rust.
But within veins of golden corals,
she weaves hope with saffron crust.
I walked in and found a chair,
And sat down and saw you there;
The light was shining, the light was low,
The candle flickered soft and slow.
The lonely music filled the night,
I felt right then my heart take flight;
The voice that taunts behind the veil,
Haunting echoes that sob and wail.
Hips that glide with slow gyrations,
Arms that weave with undulations;
Languid eyes touched with kohl,
Whisper words to flame the soul.
The sounds of that persistent beat,
Soothe the brow with passion's heat;
Lost in the scene that ignites my eye,
Heats my skin and makes me cry.
You move thro night and cast your spell,
And thoughts I think I'll never tell.
Let's pretend there'll be no end,
For you are more to me than friend;
I want to take you in my arms,
And feel the warmth that never harms;
I play on the strings of love's romance,
As you swing and sway in a belly dance
Weary... my footsteps reach a dark alley
as kohl light pushes stars into tender
tempest; notes from an old man's
weeping guitar choke my lungs droning, droning---
as if bitter bass of winds silences
my voice--- never to hear pang of a numb day
that holds this sacred dream I'll never possess.
Entering the halls of my mind, there she is,
laughing like an angel divine, shaping a lullaby
I hummed when arms cradled her when one
night's breath snuffed my child before her time.
And though without her, the young plum tree
that grew under her shade will always bear
sour flowers...its leaves and branches
reaching out to me with tender longing.
Perhaps I'll water them one day,some day...
because without their blooms, I might forget
the face of my little girl whose cheeks
looked like their flushing sheaths...and I gaze
at the same moonlight to touch her eyes
then fold them to sleep. Opening the rusty door,
we kiss," goodnight, baby... I am home."
---Based on my first cousin's experience
BEST SAD POEM EVER II Contest for Laura Loo
Resubmitted 9/12/2016