Best Lavished Poems
Pondering prophetic legacies of timeless lovers,
my heart yearned for a province lavished with perennial passion.
Searching for an enchanted perfect petal,
I wandered within the flower garden of infatuation.
Marigolds shone, smiling among mellow yellow roses,
but their fair friendly fragrance could not quench my thirst.
In the distance, a silhouette of the rarest red rose beamed,
her dulcet aromatic ambience summoned my soul closer.
Upon the first sight of my beloved's subtle innocent eyes,
my mind drifted to a place where time did not exist.
Without a word, her radiance illuminated my whole existence,
like a butterfly admiring pulchritudinous petals - it was pure paradise.
Hand in hand we strolled embarking upon the realms of infinite love,
composing our own idyllic legacy of immortal poetic lyrics.
Simple Musings
Silent One
3 July 2018
Each element of who she is, is scattered on the grass,
with the scent of earth, the drop of rain,
where dew reflects a sky of blue.
Her senses are illuminated to harmonize within,
with a howling wolf, a roaring bear, the song of evening wind
She walks within a dreamlike world, which cannot be defined.
This puzzle we have come to know has no border, nor an end.
When life begins, a tiny seed, is strewn, tossed from the vine,
and picks up speed on feathered wing and touches the divine.
She is daughter of the autumn, and mother of the spring.
Her euphonious legend, an extraordinary thing.
It passes through the blossomed branch of all the sprouted trees.
She is young at heart, and old with drought,
she is strong, and bold, without a doubt, is stalwart through the night.
Standing proud against the darkness, and the sins of those who mar,
her spirit is unbroken, by the scars of bitter blight.
She honors creatures with respect, where unison is found,
with all things wild, whether large or small, ...for every life is gold.
Her songs are as a journey, and frolic in the breeze.
There is prowess and a valor in her lavished synchronies.
Her flute will share her story, in the sound of lonely larks,
of loss, rebirth, of drifting sands, and sweet hours after dark
For yesterday creates today, with a promise for tomorrow.
When songs are played, it can bring us hope, in the laughter of the birds.
Each whisper of a clearer sky, will gently cleanse the smoke,
and buffalo will graze again, the tall green grass will wave again.
The golden sun will rise again, to warm her every word
____________________________________________________________________
10/22/14 Inspired by Contest sponsored By Debbie Guzzi
Resubmitted for Skat's Contest "Premiere Number 7"
Friends with names, some with faces
all with voices to be heard
With a pen or a keyboard
and with thoughts from which we learn
Friends no less, from a distance
all with feelings meant to share
Welcome songs in the silence
when it seems no one is there
Words are spent, some are lavished
all are welcomed through the day
In this world, any kindness
is worth more than I can say
For Soupers
You promised to take care of me like a new cherished bride
I cling to it, waiting until at the point of suicide
now your expectations and my anger collide
because your blessings seem to always find a place to hide
I try to be my own guide
then you caution me and call it pride
very little, you want me to decide
and you say I’ll be okay by just being on your side
I’m tired and have kept all these talk aside
following my own path and taking my ride
my self belief has beaten faith landslide
everything about you in me must suffer a genocide
your rules and ordinances, no more will I abide
if serving you comes with trials then I wish my loyalty had long died
and the dividends of my worship to you, just divide
Lord God!
Now I know twas an uneasy stride
now I understand, your blessings and my discipline must coincide
now I’ve seen that your love is so high and wide
and hating you is like becoming the voluntary victim of a homicide
I said you do not care, please Lord, I lied
Your ways are mysterious indeed
You searched my heart and all you saw was greed
because only my desires and blindness I feed
and you knew among the wheat, I’ll be a weed.
Despite I, not taking heed
You were still patient and ever ready to lead
You never gave me what I wanted nor stick to my timing
but at the appointed time, lavished me with all I need
while watering my entire efforts’ seed.
Thank you heavenly father! Leaving your presence, I now forbid
and serving you wholeheartedly is henceforth my utmost deed.
for the poetry contest "Fighting God
sponsored by rob carmack
you course in my veins with prurience, wild
immersing my marrow in urge, recompiled
teceptors abducted the instant you smiled
love's effigy flaming, my sinews defiled
all virtue forsaken, as tears from a child
fidelity's prospects are henceforth reviled
I inject you, narcotic - my opiate, pure
a caustic and carnal contingency's cure
delectably dressed with diabolic allure
such dermal sublimity, surface demure
I taste of your shapes, corporeal contour
skin softly savored, goosebumped and bare
your tang on my tongue, the nectar I share
our sugar rush potion for ravishment, rare
mixed in a kiss with the strands of your hair
your ecstatic delirium inculcates my core
I'm lost to a lust that's not lasted before
tinged with an aching that day would abhor
velvet and warm are the walls of your fire
addicted to you with a crave to be higher
you are my medicine, the tonic I chug
I am infected, lubricious and riled
lavished in sensual senses so sure
imbibing the essence of you without care
mixed in like poison, I stir you and pour
swallow in gulps, the consequence, dire
you are my opiate ... you are my drug.
addicted to you.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Strand Choice M, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
( This is a new form I created named "Minuanetta", with a rhyme scheme of aaaaaa, bbbbb, cccc, ddd, ee, f, abcdef g (title) ).
sometimes I sing
antique anthems,
of the nights
I was confined
within a bottle
of diamond tears,
wept woefully
from the widest sky
that held kaleidoscopic stars~
amidst festooned fields of
pixie-dust flowers,
hanging like
starburst chandeliers,
when t i m e was never in favor
of designing a
heart-shaped galaxy
to ease the
troubled torrents….
as languid linings
cast by the
sombre umbra
soaked me
in melancholic sprinkles,
of what was left in my strength;
for I knew nothing
beyond the evening clouds
that mirror
marshmallow musings,
stained with
tuscan tones. ..
yet, I remember
seeing your sunflower smile,
as I dreamt of
your mystical melodies,
spoken poetically,
way before I knew you
would become my reality,
though the homely hideaway
to my hopes
now fester amongst
corners of your
dusky eye lashes…
I’ve battled with nothing
but obsidian obstacles
that laid
in the
tiny tunnels
of my
crippled consciousness.
now our souls
seem chained in pearls
and coiled in amethyst anklets
as one, in stellar waves
through a
ceaseless constellation;
cosmic connection
endorsing these fingers
with your
poignant pantoums,
aligning my heart to lay
within your
evergreen embrace,
limited by
the lyrical land
you’ve lavished
my
longing lagoons into.
so here I am, scribbling stories
of our zealous zenith
within your platinum presence~
as confessions disguised
within tangerine tercets
of vanilla villanelles
have now come alive,
amidst a rebirth
of a warrior meant
to b l e e d
vivid verses
eviscerating
nacreous nebulas
into blissful b l u e brines,
that shall stream
through
unfamiliar rivers of dragon roses
till every electrifying element
rests in aesthetic harmony.
I have seen spring’s awakening
And basked in summer’s sun
And I have watched in awe
As autumn’s colors softly sprung
But now that winter’s here
Amid the softly falling snow
I mourn for the beauty
That was lost so long ago.
Oh sweet bird of youth
You lavished me with your love
Whispering sweet nothings
Under twinkling stars above
You led me to believe
I’d spend eternity with you
Then without a warning
You disappeared from view!
Down through the years
I've searched for you in vain
All I have are memories
Of you that remain
Now. most of my songs
Have been sung
But I cling to the melody
Of when we were young
Copright©2008 Beatrice Boyle
(All rights reserved)
------
If only I had been a teen in the Fifties
I'm sure I would have had "Happy Days",
Like Fonzie I would have donned a leather jacket
And young babes would have lavished me with praise
Like James Dean I would have that swagger
There'd be a cigarette hanging from my lips
I'd have the right moves on the dance floor
They would say "Check out those Elvis Hips!"
You would see me riding down main street
On my Harley with a babe on the back
Making our way to A&W
The best burger before a Mac attack
Once done eating we'd go to the Drive in
If dad would lend me his new Chevrolet
The back seat would be way more comfortable
Then a roll in the barn in the hay!
With fogged windows we wouldn't see the Movie
We'd still hear Humphry Bogart and Becall
Passionately rounding all love's bases
Not concearned about the movie at all!
So now I am living in my fifties
I'm Fifty three years old to be exact
The back seats have gotten much smaller
And I am way to uncool to attract!
For Kelly Deschler's Decade Contest.
Me....,
a shy ..,
and
bashful guy
always kept me.,
confined to last bench..
down my head,
huddled heart ,
blenched my breathes and
arms always clenched..
Staring with a thief eye
to each one
around me
but confrontation
was not my forte .,
this fragility always
kept me away
from my very interest
and invariably
was a thwart ..
New day in the class,
New teachers and
Classmates too.,
but for me
each day was new
and each one., who?
Newly painted class
curtained each side .,
The Teacher announces
our new class guide...
In actual fact
I wasn't a beauty gaper .,
but this time
she forced me too sharper...
hardly I lavished my time
in any admiration..,
but this would give,
drive to my contemplation..,
breaking the ice to her
difficult and caffeine beauty
eyes were clear and watered ,
lips were glossy and frooty..
Tallest and
her collar in the same way.,
I stared alot but
kept her eye away..
walk like breeze
silent and cool
smile like blooming lily.,
none of her company
can stand by her
she was the perfect dilly..
Crowd would stop
while she starts
mostly buring in vex.,
she wants pin drop silence
in the class .,otherwise,
bitter pills to suspects..
The same rain
I got whole year .,
Whole year
I got ,
teacher will start ,
we all will set ,
and I will get lost .,
The last day of
this beautiful phase
I was loosing carelessly.,
No courage,
No rescue ,
The day cutting readily ..
God miracle or
some boon ,
when she came ,
in her black shoon..,
shrinking and shy
asked me a favour.,
Reaching to the seventh heaven
I started quiver..
Yea....Yea ....
I did it
and then asked my will...
Very courageous.,
honestly it was
to utter such word.,
but......,I knew
It was the
last chance
and never again for
me.....,
such a coward..
So....I did
did it fast.
listening it....,
she got locked.
'No Words'
she said
but I .....,
I did it.
did it.
Yea...,
I do.
by-Shagun
Form:
He lied about his industry
and cut me to the heart
She tried to be a mystery
please, I'm way too smart
He had a way with levity
I always had a smile
She made a mean rotisserie
And that I won't deny
He swore that she was history
Oh! was that quite the ploy
She bore the mark of misery
I lavished her with every toy
He loved me with an artistry
The pleasure was such joy
She held my dreams so vividly
I became a man from a boy
He stabbed me with such accuracy
I bled then, I bleed now
She effected so much trickery
I became the rabbit and the bow
I hate you James for the misery
When love was all but ours
I hate you Jane for the hypocrisy
For you foiled the shuttered glass
I love you James for eternity
You're mine, you're mine, you're mine!
I love you Jane till infinity
Forever, you are mine...
They fought for honor, a way of life,
For their country and their King.
Willing to lay down their lives,
Against adversaries overbearing.
I wonder what it was like,
As thousands marched acrossed the field
What courage and faith they must of had,
To meet death with just a sword and
shield.
They must of had the attitude,
That God was on their side,
To advance into tribulation,
With confidence and pride.
The dead were given lavished funerals,
The living would mourn and pray.
Each warrior knew in the next battle,
It might be his burial day.
What would you die for?
Is there anything you hold that dear?
I feel each of us cherish something,
We would die for, in spite of the fear.
As the master potter plies his wonderful trade
To mould the clay his design in his head is now laid
He shapes, he feels and he moulds it with care
The finished piece still in his dreams to be fair.
With his skill and inner eye he sees his masterpiece
But before he throws it, he needs to find inner peace.
His skill in knowing and loving and he has the knack
Making sure with any pressure his piece will not crack.
His piece is here, and now it needs to sit and slowly dry
Before it’s placed in the fire in temperatures so high
A worrying time for the potter, in the heat of the fire
Will his masterpiece survive and it’s his fervent desire.
But the potter with his skill has learnt his trade well
And his piece will survive so he needn’t’ dwell
All the love he has lavished on his masterpiece
Will survive all the heat, and will now bring him peace.
© ~GG~ 27/02/2013
longingly, eyes
look on with lust;
the luster
lavished on
the polished violin -
the Stradivarius
as if
hourglass-shaped.
the sigh of sex
upon
the inanimate,
animated
by man.
the shudder, the gulp
of two bonded
in sin - its possession.
the greed, the tingle
of melodic light,
as the bow mambos
a c r o s s the strings.
the instrument
and the violinist,
necking
and naked. she’s
well-preserved,
reserved for the elite.
So to you,
My love:
In a moment
i
ponder,
with resolve, I call.
Without distraction I
move affectionately
to your life.
Resolutely,
to capture a morsel
the images that you portray.
I have a wander lust;
unquenchable I seem.
I am a reed; a stick
lying near the drink
of an oasis.
I long to move my roots
into sumptuous bounties
and soaking delights
of your wondrous waters.
I am so in need to let the dry branches of my soul be lavished in
the life force of
your being.
I dream
I chase.
Be the answer
the repose to my quest.
I have blown in from the desert.
The wind that carries me is hot.
Now, where I stay is in solitude
and threatens to mortalize my existence..
Though I meander in the mysticism of Gods and Angels
I feel a beckon to unloosen my wings
to fly.
So I stretch and flutter.
Poised on a ledge, I listen for the call.
"Please take me and I will be Yours."
I will unleash
the drive within me.
I will reciprocate your soothing lotion
with a fire that only you
deserve.
Do not neglect my burning
and I will not negate your
passions.
To you I call!
The timeless mystery of Zanadeu lingers in my mind’s eye only in my dreams.
I have a bare whisper of confidence that I remember much of it now, however,
Once upon a dreamland state, it was my night time haven, my escape place.
Zanadeu was of my own eight-year-old imagination’s making, and it was wonderful.
A land where I was queen and king and god and czar and prime minister, the boss in other words.
I escaped my bore snore real life and delivered my soul to this escape place almost as soon as I retired.
For one whole year I was the ruler of Zanadeu, and I was magnificent, the best they had ever seen.
When I came outside the palace, there were perpetual parades and banners and flags in my honor.
I built everything I could to help the ones who needed it.
The homeless had homes. The dogs had owners. The cats had people to rule.
Cats being the mini-rulers that they are, I had no choice about this.
The children were taken away from parents who were mean or surly,
Given instead to lovely parents who lavished love and confidence and respect into them.
I built theme parks and roller coasters and magical mini-kingdoms, and everyone was free.
There were no cages because we did not need them. The lions and the puppies loved each other,
Licking and smiling, as they knew there would always be enough meat for everyone without any killing.
No killings. No robberies. No heartache of any kind in Zanadeu, my perfect little world built by the
Idealistic mind of an 8-year-old who had a snippy, snappy, nasty excuse for a teacher.
I will never forget how my dreams saved me that year.
Zanadeu, I wish I could conjure you up today, but
Alas, I am too socialized now.
You are but a terrific
Wonderful memory.
Hope personified.
Zanadeu.