Best Lolls Poems
Written: January 04, 2025 For Contest Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
Line of inquiry:
“free from conditioned belief
no agenda on our shelf
vibrant as the light of Self
life flows on all by itself”
________________________________
Our peaceful place is a serene stillness,
Freed of a firm grasp of the familiar isthmus.
No steered ambit, no behests to satiate,
No truncated quest, or toils for tribal vitiate.
Sepia slate chutzpah, the soul's shining spark,
Diaphanous slivers and mullions pinpoint its stark.
Life lingers as leaping strides send quads convulsions,
A ceaseless cascade, a haunting mix of red, casts visions.
In the serene sanctuary, spirits shall plane,
Freed from the fetters of borrowed strain.
A stream surges, unscathed by dim schemes,
Radiating tinsel, reflecting radiant gleams.
Bathed in moonbeams, velvet drapes create a pearly gleam,
Amid enticing melody, toads hatched a fantastic dream.
This tale, a paper-thin silken gown of a gliding string,
A seed root segment fixed to the probe, splendidly cling.
Like leaves rowdy from autumn's fickle breath,
We shed imposed beliefs, escape false death.
Roots reach deep where truth alone can mend,
Untouched by fears that others' wills may send.
No nagging neuroses of self-control and vanity,
Gleefully fair breathing, obnoxious bully of inanity.
Liberated from loads, major culprits in building tension,
Unbridled, freed seaworthiness of untested dissension.
A quiet loot, winning gentleness upon a serene face,
Liberty lolls, luster trails hemmed in balsam firs and grace.
No view marred, no stance clutched, just paideia and piety,
Simply splendid, no spiders in their webs or anxiety.
Categories:
lolls, analogy, freedom, spiritual,
Form:
Rhyme
An animal control officer
tugs a pit-bull out of a backyard.
It is snagged on a long pole.
The animal is eager to cooperate,
its large head lolls passively.
Crows foreshadow in a nearby tree.
Few die secretly,
there is always a viewing
conducted by strangers.
The officer and the pit-bull
seem to know this,
neither look at the crows.
In the road a closed body bag.
I watch the scene
as if I were an open mouth.
Returning to my car,
I think:
If I don't look back,
nobody dies.
Categories:
lolls, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Drunken moon
monstrous white crystal
excited lolls in dark sky
dripping the moonlight
Haiku- 5/7/5
Written July 3rd, 2015
By Dr.Upma A.Sharma
For contest "Drunken moon" by SKAT A
Categories:
lolls, addiction, beauty, moon,
Form:
Haiku
You ask me now to sum the beauty in sun's eyes
And make of love the distinction that love despise
And all figures come only to my praise of the gift
God gave to Adam, when he unreplenished, adrift
Midst loneliness and impotence, found sleep blessed
To wake and find his rib enclothed with loveliness
Would you call the virgin mother frigid, cold
Who felt God's heat and furnished men his gold
Zeus too often imitate and did not once procreate
Beyond the fiction of the mind. All flesh fornicate
That cannot yield like Mary did to quiver and moan
To bear the first command to all; all pleasures groan.
The stigma then maligns my rib and cuts my breast
For only truth is beauty in all her virgin comeliness
Undemured, undefiled, stained by circumstance, and pure
The heart aches for beauty and found in Eve no cure
Just Mary Magdala, my passion's patient bride
Goddess of the penitent, queen of desire's tide
That like the moon brings sweet glow upon my bed
She copulates with the sun, and trees that naked shed
Themselves, like arthritic Simons, pay in rich spice
To luxuriate in the pleasures of her passion and vice.
What then her breached external form a little stained
The rich stream of heaven kept not disdained.
Measure this then against rebellious Eve, who crave
Man's pleasure but disdained to concieve; the rave
Of her autonomy to be as god, and provoked the earth
To crown an Astarte, Anat, Venus, Aphrodite as worth
To which some like Delilah or Helen made men bow
And worship in wine drenched mud the grovelling sow
Think of it, I never thought my mother panted or sweat
To shed a seed, for her purity repudiated such a threat
That I was concieved by the pleasure that first the pain
Mother is too chaste, and stainlesss all mothers remain
The mind rare permits sister or daughter expansion of gene
And yet unweb the stigma projected unto the queen
And where the stigma sits their lolls the brooding heart
Aflamed, the loins deep ocean longing to break apart
The solid rock that love strike to feed the egg athirst
The tongue languishing to bulge night's breast in verse
The hand to strip the curtain from the flesh, the skin
To meet as one, joy in joy, and love in love enmeshed.
Categories:
lolls, nostalgia, passion, beauty, longing,
Form:
Lay
legs bouncing more than normal
mind streched in a million diffrent ways
Chest begins to tighten
my head starts to lighten
Energy build up
overflowing like a cup
hands shake
mind break.
panic rising
energizing.
Can't sit still.
shaking gets stronger
I
cant
Think
strait.
Hands
need
to
move
Air
Shrinks
from
my
lungs
can't breathe
can't breathe
can't breathe
can't breathe
Forcing my self to take a shallow breath
Heart rate speeding
logic is fleeting
Limbs shaking
fear creating.
c
a
n
'
t
b
r
e
a
t
h
e
vision gets shakey
I
c a n t t h i n k s t r a i t
I take a breath
limbs shaking
teeth chattering
yet not from cold
to my sanity I must hold.
I take a breath
mind blank
yet buzzing at the same time
I take a breath
Letting the air crawl into my lungs
pushing out the rest
I take a breath
my hands slow their dance
shoulders retreat from my ears
I take a breath
hands stop and take a bow
their dance has stoped
I feel the spastic energy
slowly working its way out
leving thought my feel
Leaving me drained.
Limbs heavy
molten lead walking in my veins
to lazy to even run
Head lolls to the right
eyes staring off
sleep begging to win
done shaking
so tired
so sleepy
at least
I'm done
shaking
Categories:
lolls, anxiety, fear, mental illness,
Form:
Lyric
moon lolls on the sea
admiring its reflection
drunk with vanity
~Abdul Malik, 7/2/15
~Drunken Moon contest by SKAT A
Categories:
lolls, moon,
Form:
Haiku
*Image of Winslow Homer's 'The Gulf Stream' provided by, The Metropolitan Museum of Art
TrueheARTedness
Poetic Form: Rhyme
Neath lolls the abyss, some monster shifts, ontop heaves mammoth swells --
ship wane toy'ishly, rocked side to side, amidst the roaring sea.
Accomplished panoramic art, celebrates the scape by heart,
for Winslow Homer's nature, the American name rings bells.
Faraway, choice views the Monet as none had stood beside it,
yet fate brings on a mystic stare, pupils up close, concoct spells
from a traipsing fool -- a hall waits, Renoir, Matisse, and Cezanne.
Freed eyes vigorous strokes of Van Gogh's refuge, not parallels
since sought asylum was the sanctuary where'd he be free.
Celebrates the scape by heart, accomplished panoramic art,
sparked artist's insights, charm us like coins flickers in wishing wells.
2021 April 24
*8th Place*
A New Abracadabra Poem
~~Emile Pinet: Judged 2021 June 01
Categories:
lolls, art, imagery, inspiration,
Form:
Rhyme
The author of creation lolls in his hammock as his ears feed on the crunch of his book.
And September dangles its anklets at my porch;
Butterflies are playing catch in the garden
And birds are knitting their mansions.
The flirty breeze sneaks to my bedroom window with all its serenades.
Trees have realised their nude and are reaching for their wardrobes
The sweet smell of essence wanders the forests
While cuddling jelly sun rays arouse my serene.
My body cannot but yearn to plunge its naked in the virgin minty pools down the woods.
My neighbourhood is a playground;
Kites are flying and kids' feet are cocoa.
Everyone's souls burns pale with a craving for strawberry waffles;
And Uncle Ben's shop never closes.
Grandpa prefers to await his sunset at the country lite-house
And it's the time of the year when our butterscotch house is left to my parents.
Categories:
lolls, creation, nature, september, spring,
Form:
Free verse
I wonder if God had a Facebook account
what sort of things that he might post,
some selfies, maybe of him and his son,
and his other old friend, Holy Ghost.
His favourite music he'd put there to share
such as Handel's 'Messiah' or 'Te Deum',
While he lolls about sat in his favourite throne
and gets all of his Angels to play 'em.
His followers, there would be millions of them
but all the same none of them he would miss,
though it is safe to say he's unfriended Old Nick
and crossed him off his Christmas card list.
His family videos would be thin on the ground,
for the first billion years at least,
till his son came along and fed crowds thousands strong
now, that guy, he sure puts on a feast.
His life was cut short and they all must have thought
that was it, but he proved them all wrong,
three days dead with the baddies but was rescued by daddy
which was cool, 'coz he knew all along.
And being all knowing, his I.T skills showing,
Facebook he would easily master,
but Millennia pass, he stares at the hourglass
and wishes that his Broadband was faster.
Categories:
lolls, god, technology,
Form:
Rhyme
Of fathoms far below the surface of time
Crystalline white on the surf you roll ‘n slide
Enduring realms, onyx-deep, where pressures climb,
a glittering dust astride current ‘n tide
Navy lolls where you’re the star in sapphire’s prime
Close to shallows, on aquamarine you glide
Resplendent diamond sparkling on sunny seas
Your quartzy pinks salt a Himalayan breeze!
(9/9/2022)
Categories:
lolls, nature,
Form:
Ottava rima
She turns on the tv:
Death smiles back at her again,
Cannily, comfortably.
The face of the so-called expert on the tv screen
Suddenly breaks into a ferral canine smile.
He is momentarily bug-eyed,
His tongue lolls
As he laughs along with his fellow so-called
Experts appearing on the warmongering, corporate,
Mainstream, so-called news-gabfest panel.
In another world, it would, just as easily, be me there,
Would, just as easily, be almost anyone,
Instead of this all-too human man,
Shamelessly running, for cash and fame, pitfalls against
Humanity, through deadly cathode trees
Invisible for the deadly cathode forest.
Categories:
lolls, image, peace,
Form:
Prose Poetry
SOLE EXPEDITION OF MY SOUL EXPOSITION
Your sole expedition
of my soul exposition:
Day and night falls,
My thought calls,
Flushed faced as staring walls,
Vizarded like blinking dolls,
Frightened fixed eyeballs,
And my frameless vision,
Was your passionless passion;
Fulfilling your heartbreaking mission;
Left me motionless, lolls,
The envisioned progress annuls.
You've got the balls
To step in & cause multiple falls
Of my hearten edifice,
Wreck it all to my greatest surprise,
Breached my barrier with such guts,
your balm was my hurt,
Now I am left strut,
Alone, devoured and stuck
To sit here in huge shock
As you walk the solitary walk.
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright© 28th December, 2020.
#OnTheSpotPoetry #inspirationbymuse
Categories:
lolls, 1st grade, heartbreak, relationship,
Form:
Rhyme
At the time of ethereal elegance of twilight,
Whenever a voluptuous moon
lolls low on a silvery serene sea
and gilds the canopy of trees,
the hilltops, the meandering streams
and the languorously reclining lakes.
My muse appears to me
from nowhere like a dream,
Like a flash of inspiration
to a muddled mind and
evokes moods of mystical ecstasy.
She glides gracefully towards me
like an elusive wreath of smoke
and gathers me in her embrace
like a silken robe
hovering around me
like a whiff of fragrance.
She appears as a stirring
source of fantasy and vision,
Like the magnificent Northern lights
displaying luminous draperies
on a star-spangled polar nights,
Like a spectacular rainbow burst
after an intense shower
Like a shooting star
Like a blessed apparition;
I take her, as one would,
a reluctant bride
with gentle persuasion
and resilient arms.
~Contest: My Muse
~Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Categories:
lolls, muse,
Form:
Free verse
And tell them about a person to whom We revealed our message
But later he did not listen to Our advices
When the Satan took his senses away
So he became one of those who go astray.
And if We intended
We would undoubtedly have exalted him by it
But he clung to the earth and followed his low instinct
So he is like a dog-like thing
If you chase him he lolls out his tongue
If you leave him alone he lolls out his tongue
He is like the people who reject our communication
Therefore convey this description
So that the unbelievers may take it into serious consideration.
Categories:
lolls, religion
Form:
Free verse
"There is only one day left, always starting over: it is given to us at dawn
and taken away from us at dusk." ~ Jean-Paul Sartre
It’s a twilight time
and a veil of serenity
descends over the earth,
the sun lolls momentarily
upon the calm waters
of a sluggish sea.
Vistas of sylvan charm
seemed to open ahead and
a somnolent dusk pervades
every aspect of this weary world…
like a man on his deathbed
finally rests at peace with himself—
All his sins confessed and forgiven
and is now free from all concerns.
Categories:
lolls, nature,
Form:
Free verse