Best Limn Poems
Feeling lost in twilight schemes through glowing lights of starlit dreams,
raw, my thoughts, like frozen streams, soon melt as mist in iced moonbeams,
and you, your eyes, so grey and grim, yet lips that curl with smiling gleams,
gasping heart cries out and screams through growing cracks and broken seams.
In you I've found my everything, my life, my soul you make them sing,
lost in all the love you bring with gentle breath on soft hushed wing.
Enthralled in dulcet voice I limn with painted words of love I cling.
Held close to breast your voice will ring surcease of pain from burst heart string.
Envisioned aura in my head encircles all my thoughts with dread
as with your words my soul is fed and withers slow from things you've said.
Reduced as if by simple whim, your gentle deeds I've left unread.
Touch me not in days ahead, with your caress I'll be mislead,
so, leave me now with eyes blood red, alone and cold and left for dead.
01-01-17
Poetry is a gift and a labor of love.
Beautifully inspired words of
Gentleness. Composing words
Of Kindness. Chasing the
Blues far far away!
Poetry is a gift and a labor of love.
Heavenly angels joyfully singing
Words of Wisdom and words of
Love. Flowing freely!
Poetry is a gift and a labor of love.
Heavenly saints join in their
Chorus of inspirational love.
Rejoicing for all eternity.
Poetry is a gift and a labor of love.
Freely flowing from my mind.
Continually all of the time.
Wonderful words! Beautiful words!
Poetry is a gift and a labor of love.
Dancing queens in bright colors.
Swirling around in circles.
It's their limn! It's their limn!
Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
May 24, 2020
Ill-fated crowds neath unchained clouds: the Silent City braved
against a sudden flashing flood, unleashing lashing waves,
which stripped its stony structures, blown with neutron bursts that laved.
Its barren streets, although effete, resound of yesterday
with chit-chat words no longer heard (though having much to say)
since teeming life (at one time, rife), surceased and slipped away.
Within its walls? Whist buildings, tall... Outside the City? Dunes,
which limn its frail forgotten tales, in weird unworldly runes
with symbols strung like halos hung in lifeless, limp festoons.
Above! The dismal ditch of dusk reveals a velvet streak,
through which the winter’s wicked winds will sometimes weave and sneak,
and faraway a cable sways, a bridge clings hushed and bleak.
Thin shadows shift, like silver shafts, throughout the doomed domain
reflecting white, wee wisps of light in ebon beads of bane
which cast a crooked smile across a faceless windowpane.
Wan neon lights glow through the nights, through darkness sleek as slate,
while lanterns (hovered, high above, in silent swinging gait),
whelm ballrooms, bars, bereft bazaars, though no one’s left to fete.
Death's silhouettes show no regrets, 'twixt twilight’s ashen shrouds,
oblivious she always was to cries in dying crowds –
in foggy neap the spirits creep beyond the mushroom clouds.
No ghosts of ones with jagged tongues will sing a silent psalm
nor haunt pale lips with languid quips to pierce the deathly calm,
nor yet redress the emptiness that shifting shades embalm.
Continued in part 2
Its fingerprint of astral trace
singles out sidereal face
amongst the heavenly array
of stellar orbs in star ballet
that dance in metamorphous space.
The light dispersals limn with grace
celestial body in its place
for earthly mortals, to portray
its fingerprint.
Yet nature’s flux persists in pace,
as death takes all in vast embrace
despite what star one’s cast to play,
plus humankind will fade away
and time shall by and by erase
its fingerprint…
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * * *
The poem is a rondeau ~ a short poem of fixed form, consisting of 13 lines (plus the phrase twice) on two rhymes and having the opening words or phrase used in two places as an unrhymed refrain.
Inspiration for poem and image from article ~ “Hubble and a Stellar Fingerprint”…
Showcased at the center of this NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope image is an emission-line star known as IRAS 12196-6300.
Located just under 2,300 light-years from Earth, this star displays prominent emission lines, meaning that the star’s light, dispersed into a spectrum, shows up as a rainbow of colors marked with a characteristic pattern of dark and bright lines. The characteristics of these lines, when compared to the “fingerprints” left by particular atoms and molecules, can be used to reveal IRAS 12196-6300’s chemical composition.
I ogled through the open Atelier,
And chance into a spacious grotto,
Wanting to carry out an exploration of voodoo kingdom,
I made a pact with my kinetic limbs,
On they ride and halt at interval
Introducing to the eccentric phantasmagoria sheen;
The jaunty strokes dance on sheet nondescript,
A splash here fund a dash there, presenting views
Of nucleus of venerable attenuation of skeletons,
Damp dark commingle with laser flavour colours in a bout,
The power in waves transformed curves alive,
In practice of the occult, evergreen vision on screens;
The spirit-fay on the bark of Iroko,
Entangling themselves in limn haphazard liquid manner,
Chorusing in their parasitic wail:
You won't go until you bless me.
The wizard tore deep into the belly of denizen,
And offer sacks of intestine, pancreas and spleen,
Liver and heart on thorns of kernels,
Including a farrago of feeze, symbolism of shaggy
figures,
The ragged cupboard of labourer’s model,
Hole infested trusted rusted metals bind tight with
arteries,
And rope of twirling circles,
Tin filled up to shed.
A fresh aroma of the winter roses bore upon
The break of the day light, the first ray hold upon
By the droplets beaded over the floral leaf
Mulled over by the sight so mimetic
The life glazed over the mist filled by the charismatic.
An ecstatic jubilation bided by the Christmas carol
The gala affair of the sunset, the last ray hold upon
By the beloved savored over the time cajole
Relived over by the chorus so balmy
The rendezvous solemnization blended by the carmine patty.
A warm welcome of the edging resolutions blessed upon
The solemnity of Mary, the first greet hold upon
By the wishes ordained over the coming élan
Pleased over by the time so worth
The time of the year met with the springtime growth.
Anew Sun brought upon the garden, bore upon
The green of the array, the first ray hold upon
By the moving moraine over the frost melted -
Drifted over by the season so pledged
The aroma suspired over the blue air, warmth blended.
Pooled by affections over the day choired by love, relived upon
Betrothals belonged forever, the first kiss hold upon
By the destiny manana over the time so limn -
Touched by the amity so dear
The warmth over the ardor met with sweetness so fair.
They held back for the bathe in the colour so motleyed, poured upon
The meme prevailed over decades across the east, the last ray hold upon
By the field blazed over the harvests so sear
Turned over by the air so brut
The time of the year met with the season so hot.
Note: Continued from Fragrance - II
Limn of Ballerina Feet
Slaving, aching in separate rooms of satin palace,
Two haggard maids make faces wry while weeping sweat,
Their ten sore daughters with bloodshot i’s, callused
Wince upon each light of high strides leapt.
Never more shall their soles be new sculpture pure,
As once when marble babes of stiffer stance,
Before piano keys unlocked their gaits with gore—
Wrought them damage as prize for performance.
The bank thorns had pierced their heels to tearing,
Limping river-long to learn the liquid bearing:
Mimic nature’s motion, her seamless stream,
Through tempest & temperance
That then they may perfect the sacrificial dance.
Should a thousand expression limn the courage in you?
Never! not a word, not a crude
Not in a way that's true.
Should it bend your body but not your spirit?
Forever valiant, forever bold even so the ail
Your temple tardily buried.
Should you cry, not making crying your daily rhythm?
Despite crawling, despite wriggling pass
This life's cruel riddle.
Should victory be measured with breath and not death?
When life concludes, concluded breath matters not
For winning is not determined by breath.
After getting a world class education
and a promise of renewed life
We supposedly enter a life of endless opporunity
A high salaried job becomes the life's expectation
add to it a beautiful wife
We spiritedly look for the endless opportunity
Birth of a new born infuses a new blood relation
another addition creates espousal strife
We crib for the endless opportunity
Diminished blacks and enhanced greys signify comprehension
a mirror's reflection cuts like a knife
We still wait for the endless opportunity
Death angel releases our trapped cognition
accepting fate with a last fife
We whisper adieu to the endless opportunity
Snow graced corn field drest
Light limn, sleep, soil rest.
Feign death’s root, deep need.
Stand with strength and tact.
The cold pines for truth.
Stalk rows hold space.
Shafts beg, warmth, light.
Trails mark Spring’s site.
Harsh, harsh the light.
Rot, ruin, blight,
Leaves burnt, clean...
by white's dream.
Death rises
Sun sets.
Wake.
A fawn was ousted into light
At Moira’s playful whim;
Its mother’s keening birthed delight
Too rapturous to limn.
If Circe were to steer your craft
To her Olympian shore,
Into your hair the wind she’d graft
Your favor to restore.
Into that fawn you’d then be turned
To quell her jealous lust,
Which never has so brightly burned
Nor risen quite so fast.
Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
Brunneous look of your eyes
Limn your angle in any place I sight
Maybe the aura of your character is hard to find
Nor the answer is you and I collide?
I am not sure about you
If we meant to be or so..
The last thing to happen way back two years ago
You taught the spark of flames and oersted fairytales
Well hoping the next chapter, It's real another
Story of us unpuzzled
Direct and not twisted, nor debris are not existing
Myriad of thoughts lasting like mistletoes of dreams
Late at night I am still dreaming
If lies and goodbyes are the same thing?
Maybe then after we've broken
Exchequer of notions are not ending.
Now, you heard me?
Am I capable of your love already?
Say to me and you'll be free
Then, leave those to the trees...
Song for Ballyheigue
County Kerry, Ireland
Twig fire limn
eight fairy
in a lour cave mouth
Four of whom
a tabor thrum
Four of whom
breathe zephyr
through wee fife
All of whom
leap star,
the joy of life.
All of whom
sing lark,
the yet to come
Donal Mahoney
Shower Thee!Thy wealth,
to the greens that are black,
illuminating them,
heralding rejoice amidst dark.
Oh!rotund illusion,
how can I limn thy brilliance
through pen,for it
may disgrace Thy charm.
Maidens wake to sip the
sweetness of Thy milky nectar,
their eyes, fixed on Thee,
scoff the scorching Sun.
Thy short life,too transient,
engraves an eternal impression
deep in mind's obscure depths,
like a cascade of enamouring milk.
Thee,the solitary sailor,
plunge back to the horizon-
leaving a drop of tear in the eyes
and poignance in the heart.
DATE OF SUBMISSION:27/04/2011.
INSPIRATION:The beautiful moon has always been a constant source of inspiration to me and i'm a great lover of beauty.
Skull and Crossbones alumni)
passed along ancestral line when
cock sure rooster spent
however long with a hen
guaranteed supply grunt workers
oxymorons helpless to get even.
“Bosses” male ordure
trained as prospective
male pecking wives,
who with Robbie
didst rig the game to win
endemic nepotism deeply entwined
from one to the next kith and/or kin,
rode shotgun, viz nemesis
resorting to: “silent treatment”
against protesting lumpenproletariat
boot gnome hatch
against hardy thrive
off crene della creme limn
back before thyme
bred from for
gotten slight, min
us school Kudzu, gone
now and agin
gastronomically ferociously carniverous
selected and enveloped
postal stamping brutes
rampant suffocating nin
come poops figurative
thorn in side of aristocracy
heavy-duty industrial strength
pesky original pin
sir blithely festered,
nursed, and stewed
from unforgotten
perceived or actual slight
engendering infinite yawning voids
defying aid of Patch Adams
or Doctor Quinn.