Best Masqueraded Poems
Untroubled is the quiet night
How peaceful is a world that glimmers white
Frost and moonlight have whipped a silver glaze
And silhouettes of trees are black as ink
The only sign of life are whiffs of breath
I stand transfixed beneath the sky,
to rest my mind with reverent eyes
upon the silky wonderland of snow
Among these masqueraded hills,
the night's aurora soothes my soul
Winter has dressed our world in alabaster white
Familiar landmarks wear a new disguise
And yet, we'll see the sky remains the same
where a thousand thorny sparks have kept their flames
burning low to light the dark
They welcome us like longtime friends.
These polished stars against the sky,
are brilliant new, with points honed thistle sharp
How peaceful is a planet that shimmers bright,
that to stand in voiceless wonder and gaze,
If we were to speak, the crystal world could shatter,
too fragile to bear the weight of words
Absolute Truth
What’s in a word that fades away in time?
Seldom heard like a masqueraded mime
What’s in a name that hides in the shadows?
Of feverous fame where poets compose
May we speak of love this echoing eternal bliss?
Be it weak in silence and deepen with a kiss
For love has many ships set sail to heaven’s shore
Thus never ready for what it has to explore
It changes faces right before our effervescent eyes
With its traces left behind admits the guilty guise
But love a constant the ethereal glue of the infinite
For in its content we know little of the magnificent
In its Omni purpose beyond our comprehension
There burns a furnace of emotions in each dimension
We think we know it all but there is much to learn
For within our fall we will always youthfully yearn
We are born out of love and defenseless desire
Mourning death with love amongst the angels' choir
Love the only absolute in the seasons of the abyss
For we are en route for the active soul to reminisce.
...dedicated to Heidi Sands for her Love and courage...plus constant support...
...Music by Sheriff~'when I'm with you'...
June.04.2018
Active Soul and Mankind's Self-righteousness
Sponsored by: Catie Lindsey
In ruined scatter witnessing the greys into black
Why has it come to this as us humans finally lack
Through my eyes bloodied looking down on such
Crossed I've become in frenzied scarred mode
As to I I'm in awe as to the I that fuses
Centurions from Legions brave, showing confuse
To my left to my right seeing said damnest like I
In wondering their theirs as to their paraded
Mirrored like I that they require I be masqueraded
The tolling bell has spoken as I enter my demise
As I hang above paradise seeing cawing crows fly
Images of my existence, forever, eternally why
The eyes are the windows to the soul
But I once had my shades pulled down
A mysterious individual difficult to figure
Masqueraded around town as a clown
Always been known as a jester at heart
But some say it's a cover, a facade
To hide this feeling of insecurity inside
Wouldn't allow my soul to be unclad
Well that most certainly used to be true
But poetry has allowed me to be me
Under the cover of a protected environment
It's allowed my true self to be free
The truth will out it's always been said
In my case it's proven to be so
Owe my appreciation to all my poet friends
And to Cathie, my wife, my soul
A new found confidence after many years
Not the person I started out to be
Feeling of freedom expressing my thoughts
Nonjudgemental, a feeling of free
The eyes, it's said, are the windows to the soul
No truer words have ever been spoken
Poetry has allowed me to forever be free
My long silence has now been broken
Facing facts was never where he excelled:
avoiding them, he flitted, like a blind bat
guided as by sonar past obstacles
crowding the dark cave of his existence.
Still, some sight sifted through his shuttered eyes.
Onlookers might have guessed
he was merely another smug fat cat
forever grinning at the luck
that put him where, secretly,
he wished he would never have arrived.
Appearances aside, he was terrified
by his own fragility and that of those he loved --
a worrier, he merely masqueraded,
a graying rabbit with a nervous nose,
cowering in corners into which he heavily hopped
at the drop of each and every hat:
his mild pink eyes as tightly closed as any bat's
against the sight of hatchets
which might be flashing through the black
toward his hairy, cringing neck.
My heart has Conditions
It moved off my sleeve--
Five* years ago:
I planned their itinerary
I slept under the sun
Then, Masqueraded in the moonlight--
Just four* years passed:
I stumbled into a sea of aluminum and glass
To be Anaheim's captive
I frequently danced with death--
As if with three* more years to live:
I ardently searched for death's cousin
I awoke in sweet sunlight
With a ghost of my conscience--
Just two* years had shown for us:
Though our demons would assemble, silently
I felt the frigid air within my bones
Stumbling, feverishly, with Epimethius--
I affixed to the vexing, with ease, in one* year:
To plummet, head-first, back into obscurity
As this room's only occupant
I distort and redefine Regret's parameters
In order to create more chaos:
My mind has Conditions...
How mysteriously mythical
And mystical you look
Magnificently minute
Maritime majestic migrants
More than marginally manic
Mesmerizing meanderers
Masterpieces
Peacefully going about
Your business
Magical make-believe
Monarchs of the sea
Upright and elegant
In your mannerly march
Moonstruck prone to
Misfortunes and misadventures
Oft mostly monologuing
In monotonous monotony
Mediocrely misconstruing
Mischievous mongrels
And misconceiving misplayed
Merciless minutiae
But merry merciful
Momentous messengers of love
Marketable motive and
Mission to mirthfully mate
You mavericks matched
To mettlesome mistresses
Masqueraded maroon
From menacing mercenaries
Marvelously masterful
Is your mimed courtship dance
Mellifluous entwining
Matrimonial love embraces
Mounting and moving
Mimicking moody miscreance
Swaying to measureless
Maudlin melancholic melodies
Monopolizing methodical
Momentum and motion
A meticulously modulated
Mellow match of merging
A most memorable metaphysical
Millennium melodrama
AP: 1st place 2022, Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on April 16, 2018 for contest SEAHORSES sponsored by JULIA WARD - RANKED 5TH
Venetians masqueraded themselves to hide their identity;
their vagueness was allowed openly,
"Be a Casanova, a Shakespeare, a Hamlet :
all are welcome to join the banquet!"
" Keep your masks on, or you'll be asked to leave;
it's the Dodge's order: you must comply to enter!"
the doorman solemny speaks scratching his fussy hair;
he hears a mocking laughter to make his mood aggrieve.
"Dames can freely talk to their admirers,
whispers are allowed as long as they are sexually discreet;
they will charm you with their words...
while the Venetian's fogy moon adds splendor and conceal much deceit!"
"Must I remind all to keep your incognito for a stupendous carnival night;
walk on semidark bridges, follow moonbeams as if they were jewels!"
And the austere doorman continues becoming lenient to strict rules,
"Leave nothing to the imagination,be anything you desire: it's your right"
The eyes, it's said, are the windows to the soul
But I once had my shades pulled down
A mysterious individual difficult to figure
Masqueraded around as a clown
Always been known as a jester at heart
But some say it's a cover, a facade
To hide this feeling of insecurity inside
Wouldn't allow my soul unclad
Well that most certainly used to be true
But this site has allowed me to be me
Under cover of this protected environment
It's allowed my true self to be free
The truth will out it's always been said
In my case it's proven to be so
I owe my appreciation to this fabulous site
And to Cathie, my wife, my soul
A new found confidence after many years
Not the person I started out to be
Feeling of freedom expressing my thoughts
Nonjudgemental, a feeling of free
The eyes, it's said, are the windows to the soul
No truer words have ever been spoken
P-Soup has allowed me to always be me
My long silence has now been broken
© Jack Ellison 2013
I strain my legs in a struggle for seat
Each time on the stairs that weaken;
I strain my ears to catch the words
In the large room as they speak un-amplified;
I strain my hands in the awkward posture
the wordy words to keep in white:
I strain my eyes, even with the tiny
Gleam of the candle, my fill to have;
I strain my mind in the dark of the night,
The jargon, the parole, the stuff to stock;
I strain my Cerebral Faculty, ouch!
to get the memory back, at the hot seat;
I strain my neck at the dreadful benign board,
To see the scores masqueraded in paper.
Must I yet strain the rest,
seeking solace seething in silence?
Outside the barn a fervent life awaits
She stares hoping there’s no dire straits.
As the blazing sun sparkles on the glass panes
Her subdued smile show no pains.
The contented cat grins and bear it
Loving his mistress his purrs transmit.
The large fork made the hay still
The field mice ran with a shrill.
Yet the lady looking out the window
Her unhappiness is fully on show;
Is her lover late or not coming at all
She waits patiently, nothing befall.
Her anxiety is to be admired
Even though she looks extremely tired;
Her lover is on his way though she doesn’t know
Yet when she sees him her passions grow and grow.
Note- this is not entered in Isiaah's contest because it is written in the wrong form.
Like many, I masqueraded in shades of urban gray.
I offered my love to the midnight neon angel.
I walked the caliginous streets alone and astray.
She remained distant, alluring, always disdainful.
I courted cynicism, resignation, and despair as my style.
I wore tilted fedoras in smoke-filled reeking bars.
I feigned culture and literacy, trying to look worthwhile.
I blush now, recalling my see-through shooting stars.
Like many, I was just a child renting a man’s body.
I impersonated adulthood with stylized gloom.
I thought maturity was an act, so mine was shoddy.
I donned trench coats, my affectation in any room.
My blinking street angel had seen it all before.
My love for her was simulation and nothing more.
The Moroccan star shines down on me tonight
Giving me light to keep going
Have to fight
Masquerading as a white knight
You are but a dark, gloomy reminder of Hell
Dancing on my spleen
Crumpling my feet
Galloping across my heart
Trampling my mind with your corrosion and wrath
You masqueraded as a Moroccan man
Pretended to possess gentleness and beauty
Deceived me into thinking you were my friend
But, you were a foe
It is obvious to comprehend now
But then all I could see was the Moroccan star
Waving on your flag
immersed in bondage she's
masqueraded by fear-
absorbed in blindness she's
wrapped up in dismay-
no light to reveal her insight,
but obscurity to feed her insecurity,
hopeless...
she awaits for someone to unveil her.
December 18, 2016
Based on an article I read re neglect in relationships
SHE
She moved as soft as a shadow, he barely noticed her,
She whispered like flower petals, he did not hear her.
She smelt of spring morning, yet her scent avoided him,
She gave all her love to him and he devoured it whole.
He crashed about like a thunder storm, she calmed him,
He roared like a savage and she read his tender thoughts.
He stank of stale beer, she sprayed perfume on pillows
She gave all her love to him and he devoured it whole.
She waltzed the daily mundane with her elegant style,
She paraded her devotion above and beyond the vows.
She cared for the other while always neglecting herself
She gave all her love to him and he devoured it whole,
He staggered the obvious with disregard to conscience
He masqueraded as a partner and descended to squalor
He acknowledged her absence, yet ignored her presence
She gave all her love to him and he devoured it whole.
1st May 2016