Best Lavenders Poems
The moon dances
on lonely nights,
to astral beams of
the clear quartz milky way~
I lay in an olive meadow
designed in fragrant
promises,
hidden between thorns
and thistles disguised
as fields of ferns.
Inhaling life, exhaling pain,
as the Universe unravels
a cosmic shadow that
follows hail storms
brewing in my mind.
Whilst Vanilla butterfly
snowflakes swirl
in solitude through dark
December nights,
drizzling shooting stars
upon my poetic heart.
reminding me that
there’s always pastel
colored sunsets waiting
to smear forsaken skies in
feigned wishes and
mistletoe kisses,
that last as long
as inconsistent seasonal
hollow gusts,
thawing glaciers on icy tips
of my fragile fingers,
with fleeting flames
quilting lilac lavenders
into a blanket of happiness.
But weary winds
can pierce
through the strongest
of roots,
and I always knew I was on
my own~
an empress without
an emperor
in an empire of
raging tempests.
Although, nightingales
sing soothing serenades,
oblivious to the sinister
sun that lacks empathy,
enshrouding my
grieving spine
with scorching thick
threads of electric heat,
feeding life above the
emerald waves of time,
there’s no antidote left
in my empty sphere of
familiar faces, with frosty
chivalrous smiles,
I’ve walked through
frozen miles,
cloaked in sparkling silence,
where hopes and faith
died, like ephemeral
colors of northern lights,
within the tilted stage
of my tainted black
and white soul,
releasing a
wounded sigh.
So, don’t question my
invisible wand with
pixie-dust, that
wipes away every murky
cloud, enveloped
in hazy unjust;
I deserve more than
this pantomime of
pretend,
of decayed trust,
where wooded
trees stand empty,
with rosy
lies scribbled in blood,
from envious pens
and sharpened nails,
full of ferocious fire
on forgotten trunks..
You must strive to find your own voice because the longer you wait to begin, the less likely you are to find it at all.
Robin Williams - Dead poets society
Poets are born,
not manufactured.
The moment when life said:
"Recite a poem for me."
Verses began to flow,
like moonlight shimmering
upon tides rushing to the shore.
Tongue spoke in silent tones,
in a language forgotten in time.
Emotions that had been internally burning
bled a scripted sadness of sentimental scents. .
A perpetual periodical anthology of adversity,
hidden behind an enigmatic encrypted haiku,
about a lost soul's suffering in chains,
caged within the nonsense of syllables.
An unmetered sonnet,
where the world saw common rhymes,
as unforgivable idiotic crimes.
Not all metaphors make sense.
Still the quill yearned for meaning.
To write in evergreen sanguine blessings,
creating a vocabulary reminiscent
of blossoming phraseology -
but words can be misinterpreted.
When eyes lie with fake flattery,
this gifted madness you call poetry,
is like a curse for a wordsmith.
The mind becomes bewildered,
drifting in heavy hues of longing lavenders,
wondering where the spring flowers are.
Some remain content with withering thoughts,
but my ink is immortal in sowing perennial seeds.
Poet Destroyer - Parades and Carnivals
Soft feathers gather up with color
On the wind to play as friends
They come floating first above the boulevard
Kind thoughts there elevate, somewhere between the innocence
Trumpets, drums and violins come thumping on the street
Poet Destroyer is there to keep the peace
Hiding in disguise as Linda
She jumps up one thousand feet and lands
Right in the heart of Poetry Soup with marching bands
Flutes come alive while she eats fire
Catching knives between her teeth, and bullets just for fun
While petting hungry tigers, yawning all the while
Parades fill in the rest of life with yellows reds and peach designs
When PD comes marching down the streets all smiles
She wakes up, takes on greater feats
Casting royal colors in purples, gold and lavenders
Announcing the start of carnival
Trusted, serene, sweet dreams and memories
She speaks of dragons flying by her side in times gone by
But today, arise!... carnivals, parades, and dancing happy feet
Bad memories sink out of sight
Diabolical forces, hard matters, enemies of play
Will have to gravitate their weight some other day
No draconian measures or moments here
PD has come to host parades and gaiety
Delicious love and fun gather up the sun
You can certainly feel the warmth
Rising lighter than the feathers to tickle everyone
Linda jumps again and does it just for fun
Created on 12/04/14 for - Fighting Depression (poems for PD) - Poetry Contest
But wherever you are, I no longer want to be:
for you are thunderstruck moonlight,
and I am a scarred sunset ~ a secret in saffron,
melting into the myth that floats forever,
within silenced dunes of scorpion stones,
where the cryptic coldness of sand feels like~
Cupid’s daggers piercing through
my aching skin and bones.
Frost-kissed vines wrap around
my wintry heart,
screaming for a sacred release
from the tethered torment
of satanic sapphires,
breathing within the haunted caves
of unending nightmares ~
and the twilight that wanes
behind flatlined promises.
Tonight, I feel like arrows of angst,
ricocheting within these woeful walls
of my melancholic mausoleum,
mirroring the heat of a burning breeze ~
like an epitaph lost in the sweltering air.
The clover of golden green glimmers,
like fireflies around my wrists,
luring distant ravens,
croaking above paralyzed dreams,
to untangle the crooked lines of lies,
crawling within clouds of comfort,
oblivious to Lilith’s serpent slithering
around my fragile feet in slow cadence,
pushing me to the darker dusks
drawn above the prying
valley of putrid prunes,
where these wistful musings
will remain as mere voiceless ashes,
cremated in vain,
with flames of forgotten folktales
echoing as faded music within a glass urn.
So, if tomorrow I’m gone, remember me ~
I still breathe silver snippets of hope,
a frozen quiescence,
etched in seven arcs of stardust,
longing to be anywhere but here.
Perhaps as the last verse of your poem,
or could I be the lone rose,
forever thriving in the galactic gardens of love,
where hate and greed, tangled in
jinxed jewels,
dissolve into nothingness ~
like rusted ribbons of the crestfallen lunar.
I hope lilacs and lavenders will bloom
in hypnotic hues, to calm raging rivers flowing
within the arctic arteries of a dark poet,
longing for a home
away from hellish hands,
so I can serenade songs of survival
and rhapsodies of resilience,
while watching every tear I’ve shed
crystallize into pearls and diamonds,
like born-again stars in violet skies.
"The Kissing Loop"
My eyes close to keep you there
in a dream slow dancing, bow and cello we waltz in air
bending you closer into my body
like this pea soup fog embracing me
I walk quiet streets surrounded
by Mountains of Blue
the fat bellied pregnant clouds deliver
a life that is verdant, that is new
a new day is born
through some kind of Light storm
grey mist in a teacup of a town
I am walking in the clouds
this could be some kind of heaven
high up in my beautiful kingdom
free as a bird gliding silently
down quiet streets besieged by
beguiling story unfurling
in forests of blues lavenders and greens
train departs at 3
train departs at 3
Blue Highway at the Cross Roads
Where time is easy, fresh air to breathe
The record in my mind that plays
over grooves cracked for a thousand and more days
where the kissing loop repeats it’s mission repeats it’s mission
some kind of erudite Sanskrit, like kissing walls Aramaic, another foreign language
but you’ll hear the message if you quiet your mind and your heart listens
Love is in every step taken
One step forward 3 step back
The Kissing Loop that’s been playing it’s oneiric
"Blue Highway at the Cross Roads"
is right on track
train departs at 3
train departs at 3
and here stands me
New Page:
Some Beautiful Story
(Lovejoy-Burton/August 2018)
1. https://genius.com/Gene-clark-strength-of-strings-lyrics
WHISPERS OF YOUR SOUL
Gentle voice within-- murmurs to shake my thoughts
carrying me to a lair of lavenders and roses
as the wind sways choir with an echo painting poses
it matches the twinkling stars in their bright tons of shots
I shut my eyes from around to listen in silence
Hugging myself in surrender to ardent breeze of remember
tender are the words seeping slow in my heart's chamber
freeing me from dangling touches of conflict and shyness
Candy wrapped around these whispers permits me to move
for like a laughing water, it's lapping, caresses my ears.
ah! how it melt my tangled threads of salad fears!
Arising above to display an open jolly groove,
I breathe an ounce to utter a single prayer
to forever beget these nectarine whispers
where to timeless counts of thorns, I may not shiver
instead-- before despair, I will stand for I'm spared.
Upon twin trial pools of impossibles,
embrace my heart; oh! embrace my soul
Answer my yearning; fill me whole
for if I twine with you, I am unstoppable... !
©O. E. Guillermo
10:24 pm, December 14, 2014
Sponsor: Gail Angel Doyle
Contest Name: Whispers Of Your Soul
Placed 1st
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Virgin love; beholding this gleam within her eyes; knowing how much she is desiired
Lying in bed at night, fantasizing; one step closer unto its joyful revealings moment...
Fingertips sliding lavenders silk to the side, again; deeply moaning aneath crystals
Euphorias pleasing arrival; the newness, and everything now seems so, beautiful ˜
Red and white lace in perfumed make-up; anticipations tossing about her hair
Flowing as the candlelight sways and the fireplace dances; pink champagne in ice
Frosted glasses with gentle music, painting a tomorrow; rose petals of fragrant
Colours waiting atop the table; sanguine hearts, amid chimeful bells they'll play...
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..."Soft Silk Dreams" *
Floral expanse
Roses in vivid colours that smiled in glamour,
Red blood to be garlanded at valour,
White lilies bunching hearty and serene,
Catching lovers' fancy to the extreme,
Lavenders at the crest of mountains,
Challenging beauties of the terrains,
Merrigolds shining bright with sunrise,
Worshipping aroma to no surprise,
Dahlia, orange and yellow poppies dance,
Oleander with their pink flowers put us in stance,
Irises swayed taller on their stalks,
Bougainville like trumpets' melody outlast,
Bluebells borrowed colour from the sky,
Yellow dandelions woke up in golden bright light,
Tulips were as bright as showers,
Their beds flamed like throbbing rings of fire,
Forming shadows were rows of white flowers,
On azure coloured ground like trails of shooting stars,
Tiny wildflowers illuminated the grass,
Like jewels in the dust to nature's sarcast !
Written November 27th, 2014
For contest 'Encounter with flowers' by Anthony Slausen
Awarded HM
Entered into contest "Theme #2- Flowers- Old poems" by SKAT A
Awarded 9th place win
These tiny hands. Black and White hands twirl. Vibrant palms ripple the Flower-land. Dancing onto the rainbowous piano. Music permeates the thirsty airs. Notes float upon the multi-hued keys –
Red
Orange
Yellow
Green
Blue
Indigo
Violet.
Black and White Hands on colorful keys. Magical hands whirling into aural anthems. Fists and fingers allure the dry, solid airs.
A melodic tune touches the soul of each flower. Turn by turn their chemistry churns. Juicing the chords of the roots in the damp soil. The stems curl and stretch calligraphing into clefs and altos. Petals strike classical beats. The rhythms of nature are awakened.
The fragrances of Roses lead the choir. Then play the violinic tune of Lavenders.
Gradually follows the oboe sounding waves of Jasmines. Then tumble into the song, the harmonious vibrations of Violets. The Magnolias infuse their trumpeting energies. The flow has begun.
Roses
Lavenders
Jasmines
Violets
Magnolias
Lilies
Chocolate Cosmos.
All shades and tones of lyrical perfumes tie Flower-land into a charming, irresistible atmospheric bouquet.
These tiny hands. The phenomenal fists decorate the spectrums of Flower-land. These black and white hands. These multi-coloured keys. These fragrances now adorn the dry airs and garland them with their musical aromas.
Red equals a love rosed lust crave
erupting volcano explossion
fever among two people.
Orange equals driving miss daisy
through the collapsing bed frame
breaking sweat against their,
hot lava Oozing river.
Yellow equals their glow of fireflies,
flow through the night brightly
gazed eyes between them above
the cloudy covers.
Green equals sweet' ned nectar
along the castel gods,flowing
On ward the lands, of hungry
animals (mammals) slamming the
wind,beneath the halo or horns!!
of naughty dirt.
Blue equals their thriving thirst of
fresh water to each others
strive for love blasting
down the heavens doors.
Purple equals lavenders pastel
boldness to keep this a
hot n' steamy sweat story
between them. HAhaHA!!!!
So I can not give you anymore
details of this, relationship!!!
GoodBye til we
Meet again!!! Wouldn't you like to
Know my secret????
Tell her that she made you feel.
Because you don't feel.
Tell her what you see.
Because she doesn't see.
Tell her that you liked her hair, ashen rubellite and amethyst, curling at the tips like a calla Lily night cap, or burning paper, and bound loosely by a kaleidoscope of fabrics.
Tell her that her brown eyes and the smoked coral powder she had pressed against her outer lids, and the flecks of gold that decorated each corner and curve, was a piece of renaissance art.
Tell her that you think about her. Much more often than you should. Because in reality she met you only once. Even though you meet her in pastel visions and fantasies, every time you see trees of a particular viridescent, or whenever you smell rich lavenders.
Tell her that her voice was a remedy for your melancholia, and any concept she kissed with that silvery voice was instantaneously paramount to you, and nothing else mattered.
Tell her that for the duration of your time with her, you forthwith saw the world in iridescent light, a light she must own, because you cannot experience it anywhere else, no matter how hard you try.
Tell her that you could so effortlessly love her.
Because you can love.
Tell her how you see her.
Because she doesn't see you.
Virgin love...
Beholding this gleam within her eyes
Knowing, how much she is desired
Lying in bed at night, fantasizing
One step closer unto its joyful, revealings moment
Fingertips sliding lavenders silk to the side
Again, moaning deeply aneath crystals pleasing
Euphorics arrival; the newness and everything
Now seems so beautiful; red and white lace
In perfumed make-up and she...
Anticipations tossing about her hair
Flowing as the candlelight sways
Love's fireplace dancing; romance, pink champagne
Upon ice with their frosted glasses; gentle music
Painting her tomorrow and rose petals fragrant
Bouquets she colours waiting atop the table...
Sanguine hearts; amid chimeful bells, they'll play.
~
Among watching forbidden archangels saunter sullen paths
I reflect mandragoras through evanescent gleams of orrery elegies,
whirling into significant distraught dizain stanzas of my obsidian paint
in halcyon hopes my expressive ekphrasis will bloom alongside aureate tulips.
Under opal moons shading dozens of writhing languid lavenders of mauve,
a hushing zephyr cuddles lost villanelle verses of my nocturne lilt heart
shaping obsidian thorns of withering torment into eloquent paradelles
gifting me picturesque promises of prospering ovary triumph over obsidian odes.
O, how I dream vermillion serenade reveries of idyllic illusions
whilst pouring out serpentine verses in poise patterns of bewitching ballads,
perhaps yearning celestine fantasies to be painted in aureate ruby recognition
are as asking one to grasp glazing pearl stars under an elixir eclipse.
Upon scrolling night's interrogating introspective sighs of myrrh melodies
I refocus labyrinthine lilacs of drizzling determination through ethereal epics,
for it is through periwinkle poetry I've learned to set palindromes forward
and through vignette vellichor musings I'll leap amethyst acrostics.
~
"I'm going to wake up and bury my heart if you're not in it, I could never forget, so I pretend it never happened, I'll live in delusions." _ by poet.
My lingering trepidation blooms
with thoughts of your being,
fading, slipping into a narrow
delicate shadow as whisps of
memory is thrown in the circle
of windy motions, swirling in
destructive steps.
You left me with sights that would
create demons.
I knew they were
all sweets of a dangling viper,
vaping energy, puking poison
as mocktails, yet, I believed.
I bathed in them like lavenders
till they were roses. I let myself
loose, spewing like helpless canons,
shooting into the heavens.
I grasped his horns and envisioned
it a costume. I thought he was art,
my masterpiece, so I surrendered,
I offered myself as a muse,
he gulped my every juice.
I gave myself as a canvas,
he stroked the world's darkest
Miseries on me.
He was a masquerade of fragrances,
a knight of melodious charades.
My brain had a non-function atom,
it couldn't recognise signs, there
was no thinking made, just a dive
so deep I drowned.
You haven't hugged and
embraced pain until
you wish for its non-existence.
These won't travel with the breeze
of the night, they can't be cemented.
Like truth, I flung them out and they
bounced back like morning dews.
Folded like crumpled pages,
my heart bleeds into a trillion shreds. Memories weigh heavy like the
Champions League, encasing
my soul in cursed ice. I want
them wiped like the end of
every teaching on a blackboard,
only then would I truly live.
Blowing a kiss
In silver shadows
swept of my feet
floating into the clouds
cotton soft landing
fluffy feelings
touching emotions
a beautiful
white rose
Appearing
in front of me
floating inner vision
casting silver shadows
all over the moon
Clouds kissing rain
as the moon smiles
holding hands out
dancing to a song
a beautiful
lady sings
Each drop falling
like the morning dew
upon the rose
caressed deeply
within its softness
grows in feelings
Softly the wind breathes
whispering calmly
are you the one
a beautiful snowdrop
dreaming in sunshine
Lavender
breathing beautiful
within the deep aroma
emotions whisper
a silent voice
in summers breeze
Calling a dream
sweet and beautiful
kissing the heart
in a lavender breeze
a moment in time shared
A faraway dream
in the deep
kissed softly
in lavenders
sweet scenting
beautiful breeze