Best Livens Poems
I
A spark is shot
Deftly, from between two fingers.
It sits, wavering on its bed
Like a lone star
Against the black,
Cold coals.
Chuckling, a candle flame shows
Its little golden head.
Sleepily, it reaches for its mother
And she, flickering, crackles her tongue
As the scorching hand upon her breast grows
And spreads.
Curious and hungry,
flamma explorat.
II
A fire is mature, suddenly
Superior. Its arms extend,
It works, briskly it burns.
Like a tiger
It inhabits its cage.
Laughing, a blaze rises
To greet a brittle friend.
For another
And another
Blaze yearns.
Alas! Any tears would hiss
If the glowing cheeks reminisced a kiss.
It is Love The Fuel on which its life depends.
Selfish and beautiful,
flamma vivat!
III
The embers sift, tenderly
Nursing the staggering
Foolish old flame
Who must be coaxed to nibble and feed.
No light livens the hearth, haunted now,
Merely shadows.
In faded fame, amidst dusty fortune
The patient lies.
And it ponders as all its dazzle dies
Who taught me to hate?
Was it lack of love or lack of life
That finally dampened my fanciful play?
Slowly,
Painfully,
The gargoyle face is smothered in ash,
The soft powder of its parents fate.
And death waits
Eerily
Still
Until another is born in the grate.
Tired and lonely,
flamma extinguet.
Written by Gail DeBole
Started writing on 7/16/2013
Updated on 1/26/2015
Campbell’s Soup
Is a favorite of mine.
As a child, I enjoyed this
time after time.
Bowl after bowl was
delicious to taste.
Hardly any of it ever went
to waste (or my waist).
And then when I grew up
(Well, thought that I was)
I moved on to Progresso.
It is healthy good fun.
Now Swanson Chicken Broth
Is a favorite of mine.
It is so tasty
time after time.
Livens up mashed potatoes
to invigorate the tongue.
All that is experienced is
a whole lot of yum!
But the soup most pleasing
is the “soup” I found on this site.
It is healthy, and yummy
and always ”tastes right.”
It feeds so many and
The soup never runs out.
I “eat” every word with
my poetry “mouth.”
No matter what “real” soup
I eat day by day,
Poetrysoup’s thought-soup
is the one that I crave!
My hair stands on end with her around me
Her hands surround all my entire body
This leads me down the path of stunning blue
A path that leads to a delightful hue
Complete opulent feel made from this lace
On all pieces of me throughout our space
She livens my heart just by her kindness
She brings special hotness with her likeness
Right to me was her grandiose sparkle
To that end there’s her sexy pink ankle
Love can entertain our supreme insight
Our hearts live mightily with pure delight
Russell Sivey
I
Even in this
crypt,
me soul wait
no longer! Its
crest burnt-
The Eagle
velt; born of
virtue,
Less
corruptible,
grieve in its
lounge thirst!
The Sandy
Storm.
A day without
rain calls the
storm
Within the
crypt, the
souless wails!
Whose
charming
flutes shall
calm these?
Shall David's
songs enrich
souls or mar?
The sandy
storm.
Crypts; a
taboo for soul-
full,
Lest, I began
wailing - for,
Its greatness,
lies thereof
Shadows
crested our
flags,
whirling
winds;
A shiver to
our darling
hearts.
Minted coins;
blood of
aztec!
Crypts' song;
livens the
sandy storm
From the
soulless; born
of the velt.
Wielded by
the sonorous
Adored by the
mightiest,
On whose fax,
shall its
shadow run?
The sandy
storm.
Raging as its
neon star;
shining in its
darkening
path!
Our lonely
night, a walk
for the
craving crow.
Shall friends
be foe! Shall
mothers be
lovers!
Never!
II
The sandy
storm; the
spirits
journey,
The sandy
storn; an over-
comed
threshold!
Obeisance; a
joy which
gladdens my
hold.
I'll hold the
fort, high
steamed, with
bellows of
men.
Let no velt be
built - for the
velt; a
shadow of
history!
Shadow of
history, in
hearts, it lives.
On the path to
Nile,
The journey
of breath,
Shall I rest my
bossom
The velt once
born, the velt
once taken,
the velt once -
The Sandy
Storm
Mysterious pulse of old Japan:
Oriental strides of nurtured grace;
Cultured impulse in mindful trend.
Painted faces with measured trace:
Years of training now fruit fine skills;
Motif graces that gently pace.
Merge with duty in kind goodwill:
Delicate moves put men at ease;
Fine robes silky as softness fills.
Walk on still air with radiant peace:
Sweet music floats in song and dance;
A touch most fair as charm funds ease.
Sweet scents abide in steady stance:
Fragrant cherry blossoms delight;
Hostess makes strides to flavour dance.
There is a heart that sees things light:
Whispers most sweet warm murmurs here;
Choice sparks fond art in precious sights.
Listen, art weaves sensuous cheer:
Know sure finesse in cultured ways;
Petals and leaves, poignant grace steers.
Geisha maiden livens sure sway:
Gentle yet firm with sacred code;
Courteous haven that honours play.
Evening comes by nature's mode:
To waltz the guests with tender poise;
Explore and sum the festive lode.
Feed special treat for merry choice:
Discipline tells in cultured plot;
Look to chimed feats with measured voice.
Geisha knows how to prime each lot:
Pulse of movement that entertains;
Swaying flows now with subtle thought.
Years of passion as purpose trains:
Looking to sculpt a way of life;
See pure action where intent gains.
Glimpse the lure of cultured strife:
Here by the gate on Eastern shores;
Costume feels sure a beauty's life.
Mind and heart sign in craft and more:
Body allure that tells a tale;
Zen-like fine art to unleash core.
Delicate moves in rice brewed ale:
Joy serenades the party mood;
Crisp movement grooves as freshness sails.
Bright moonlight streams a dazzling good:
Lovely looks flood the surge of play;
Dream follows theme in wine and food.
Strains of music dwell with verse say:
Song and haiku to paint a glimpse;
Rhymes string magic as movement strays.
Geisha my dear watch wordplay scheme:
Look to beauty that hides within;
Notice lines steer the path I dream.
Geisha maiden from times unseen:
Fine tapestry from ancient times;
Sculpted haven from ageless scenes.
Geisha looks quaint in modern chimes:
Face laced in paint as silk robes time.
Leon Enriquez
28 July 2014
Singapore
a friend is a satin ribbon
which wraps around your life
a friend is a golden button
that does away with strife
a friend is a silver needle
that keeps you sharp and true
a friend is a good strong thread
that livens you anew
Happiness is like electricity!
It livens me with power
...to do incredible things
Happiness takes me from a dormant state
To a powerful state
...in which I reveal and activate my potential
...and endear it to a gainful purpose
...hoping to benefit many in life
Solemn
Silence forever
Soundless
No intrusion
No external influence
Just hisses
As the clock stayed
Souls were tied
Hearts were knitted
Voices were mastered
Scents were preserved
And images were exchanged
The experience lasted a life time
The memory livens the heart
The thought and the remembrance
The mind cherishes
A the room affair
An experience ever desired
To be relived all through life
Frankie’s face so cute, sweet and appealing
Lifts one’s heart to fly up to the ceiling
The moment we met I was mesmerised
No one could resist those sparkling brown eyes.
Frankie’s adored by all residents here
His presence livens up the atmosphere
Love the way Frankie greets us all with joy
He is such a warm hearted doggie boy.
Never forgets anyone, not ever
Knowing Frankie’s an absolute pleasure
Frankie’s therapy, knows when one’s unwell
By caring actions, is how one can tell.
Oh, doggie boy, there’s no doubting the fact
You’re simply the star of our habitat.
The smell of spring from my cottage window I taste
A newly formed leaf canopy covered in pastel paste
A carpet of bluebells brightens the land
Livens the forest as for winter it's bland
The bluebells in blend with a purple shade
Another marvel that nature's made
Her ability to bloom and flower her lands
As the tree's look down feeling proud and grand
As I close my eyes and picture Bluebell Wood
As I open my eyes, it looks as it should
An impressive sight on any spring day
Another creation in her portray
.
You, me, and joe,
alone in a crowd, we were.
The world closed off,
I only took sight of you.
Your verdant eyes
shining brightly as
you tell of your passions.
Your easy smile
livens the room,
blocking all else.
Your voice, musical notes,
ringing in my ear.
I am lost in the sensation,
this aloneness, I have with you.
The world disappears.
My thoughts turn deliciously wicked.
Ideas of us alone, together.
Your milky skin, hot
next to my own.
A wildfire alit between us,
burning brightly
engulfing our passion.
I feel your pulse quicken.
Butterflies racing in your stomach,
as in my own.
A torturous pace I do take
slowly, deliberately.
We enmesh as one
unified in our quest.
Gingerbread jingle woods, livens up our jolly elf.
Cartoon magic Christmas, books falling off of a shelf.
We are running into Santa’s path; he has to veer away.
Glad to say he missed us with the runners of his sleigh.
A gift for Serendipity, a gift for Mr. Vee and Mrs. Lee.
Candy canes all over even on the Christmas tree
Rudolph missed the deadline; he had to stay behind
Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, will do the job just fine.
Where is Jesus’ manger? His little crib of wood.
Are the wisemen coming? We never said they could.
Silver bells are glistening, we have a noisy roof.
Let’s get up and see the prints, then we have the proof.
Burning bush livens the yard with pops of reddish pink and orange.
Purple butterfly bush, in a delicate way, surprises me, at her head.
Seventy two degrees, a nice surprise for October twenty-seventh.
Birds swoop in, amazed, to feeders, I just put up the eleventh.
Found my red garden rake on the ground near the giant double oak.
Other treasurers popped up, along the walk in the yard, no joke.
I sit in the sun, marveling at the beauty and serenity of my yard.
So glad I am a gardener, painter, cartoonist, one with little guard.
Many choices, so where on earth does a creative mind sit?
The highs, the low’s, the trees, the sky. Where do I fit?
On the ground, studying ants and bees?
Faeries and wasps, garden snakes and fleas?
Autumn smells permeate my soul.
Glorious reminder that the day is whole.
I ponder and wander, up and down, and beyond.
Admiring my ferns, violets, seeds, walnuts, and frond.
Spring is refreshing, summer wonderful too,
But autumn and winter they truly renew.
A gorgeous red leaf floats down and lands on my shoe.
A reminder that people are cyclical too.
After the last time I heard your voice
I came out of the room where I stayed
At the sight of the not so bright day
Your voice came reverberating
Mild and solemn and succinct
Like a love song to love birds
Every moment was unique and worth while
I looked around
You were there but I could not hold you
Your scent filled the air
And the voice was loudest and so very close
Where are you?
This assurance was strong and the confidence was sore
Here comes the love of my life
The love song my heart delights
The warmth that livens my day
The solace that keeps my heart
My strife is over
My labor is gone
Behold my heart has come to me.
As the Dove coos in morn's damp air
And the cock crows awake
A new dawn has set the day's pace
Clouds predict storms at stake
Cooler air feels lush 'pon the skin
Moisture saturates all
A wet summer livens forest,
Brook; grass grows fast and tall
To relish moments of quiet
A peaceful time of day
When the gentle zephyr whispers
Through stirring of chimes' play
The Spirit softly whisper peace
Let all troubles depart
Come, oh Holy Spirit fill us
Set on fire broken hearts
Thank you, Jesus
Written this July 5, 2013
Out On The Porch