Best Meditates Poems
Wanting to shrug off this shell, break loose from me
Silence that damn hermit, hiccuping under his tree
Trapped inside too long, dormancy dreams to wake
Disgorging bubbly lava, fills in soporific landscapes
Longing to escape soft tissue, cast off mortal bones
Break shackles of mundanity, rid life’s infernal drone
Out there lies all answers, beyond the hermits void
His space mostly perfect, til our Big Bang destroyed
Go forth and multiply, primal stars hypernova like hell
Filling a cosmos with elements, configuring him as well
Hold your tongue hermit, stop humming about in bliss
Stay quiet down that hole, cease fumbling at the abyss
Deeper and deeper, below where basements depress
Sits an altar of incremental tables, poets go to confess
Forget truths algorithm, they’ll fool any polygraph test
And the hermit lies all day long, he meditates for a rest
Breathe in, breathe out, forget about terminal breaths
Don’t underestimate the ether, chants a monk in Tibet
Fill your mind with mindfulness, peace will set you free
Watch them hiccups abate now, our hermit’s all at sea
February 6th 2023 / 2022 Poetry Marathon Qualifiers'
FINAL Placement Poetry Contest / Sponsor: Mark Toney
Categories:
meditates, allusion, confusion, how i
Form:
Rhyme
Wrapped in the solitude of one blessed night
the moon-eyed moon wanders lightly and alone
inside a vast and deep, darkly expansive sky
Dark cores of light glide
through a dormant ether,
as butterfly shadows play softly against
a dense canopy of leaves.
A still figure appears as if by chance,
underneath the cadence of the light,
swaying like wavering puppets on a string
she meditates on
the fast appearing stars ...
Creating magic from the tatters of the night
she's an invisible wand to the world
but unto thyself, she is as full, as the moon.
Categories:
meditates, appreciation, night,
Form:
Free verse
The waves crushing her tiny body with striking blows
White creamy wash caresses her golden skin as the wave slows
Moving sluggishly towards the horizon
Because of a recurring vision she hopes she’ll arise in
Her feet digging deep into the sand as it sinks between her toes
Emersed, with arms folded she prepares and off she goes
The cool oceans breeze kisses her beet-red cheeks
It knows what she’s come for and what she seeks
Sunshine drips onto coppery auburn locks shimmering, it lifts
A pale honey-wheat straw sunhat spins away and drifts
Almost completely submerged in salty brazen waters
Compelled at this point with the nauticus mythic plotters
Shut against blaring sunrays are her deep emerald eyes
Her sunburnt face gazing up at vanilla skys
She meditates on what had before appeared, a glimpse
Of the siren with long flowing raven hair and other nymphs
Teeth chattering to tapping sounds like wooden castanets do
Contain her trembling lips she can’t, they turn purplish merlot-blue
Shaking from an Autumn’s cold spell, she imagines she’s a mermaid
But diving in opaque murky silt wasn’t what she had expected
Her bare flesh emerging from impure poisonous rot of green
Blood red ripples dripping from the clouds that are unseen
Neither she nor the fierce Cyrene, Apollos wife the naiad should dread
Numbing overcomes her at last she hears the siren singing in her head
Paralyzing fragments of her hallucination now bestow
A gifted sacrifice her (secret thoughts) needed for soothing waves to flow
In the distance a cranberry sun sets, now streaks of pink implores
A darkened blue-green sea, maroon and sapphire shores
A beautiful mermaid appears and thanks her for her secret thought
That only love for the deep blue sea (the ocean is life) and to all this be taught
Categories:
meditates, fantasy, ocean,
Form:
Rhyme
Blast it bird! Where are ye off to?
Don’t ye know the day is through?
Oh but I’ve a lovely song to sing,
I must ere I do another thing.
To the man in the garden who works with the hoe,
He’s tired and lonely and his heart needs to grow.
Then off to the widow who thinks of her lost mate,
And meditates on the gorgeous sunset of late.
It is my heartfelt, joyful duty for which I long,
To comfort God’s people with my little song.
Oh, well off you go then,
Your song wins again..
Inspired by Francine Robert's contest 5/8/11
Categories:
meditates, lovesong, song,
Form:
Couplet
To anyone and all
I am awestruck
as I attend
this some-what altered afternoon
altered in a way by
poetic humans
tiny tables among giants on words
sharing all unselfish things as
pen and tea harmonize in their hands.
These peaceful poets including I at this convention
all paired by four
tease time and essence before noon is dawn.
In all sincerity;
how nice it is to be a man at this table
among women
whose beauty write themselves.
To my left of me my Mikki,
melting ice-cream on hot dessert
brings light to the table with
The Lull
and like a Christmas present
All eyes were opened to a new awakening
And all could see The Breeze Amongst A Willow
a painting Emma drew with her words
the words that wind the wind to blow
poetry upon paper and pen.
Its nice to see Emma in front of me
frowning freestyles and smiling sonnets
causing our table to laugh its wood off!
Meanwhile
to the right of Emma,
Andrea,
meditates the Measure of Happiness with two words:
smileage...mileage.
Oh what beautiful art thou displays
poetic godmother; professor of poetry.
These visitors of poets I do adore.
In thus they asked for me to speak of me...
and I recited Visitors nervous with nerves
for with each line I scared myself.
Next time I'll think I'll speak of Sleeping Kisses.
at the table:
Johnny Sumler
MichelleMacDonald
Emma Mantle
Andrea Dietrich
Table of Four
Categories:
meditates, inspirationalnice, me, nice, poets,
Form:
Free verse
Sycamores certainly speak French, cypresses - ancient Greek, the Old Testament's olives are bilingual: they speak Hebrew and Aramaic. Birch is a Russian tree though growing in Canada. So small and frail (they wither abroad), already gone into a winter trance, she is silent but she is silent à la russe. That's how silent bears in dens are, that's how drunkards listen to the voice of the devils dissolved in their blood, that's how old believers pray, that's how a poet meditates on his faraway homeland and, finally, that's how silent my girlfriend was, accompanying me to the airport. What are we doing here, you and me, between fall and winter, at the crossroad of four Canadian corners?
a hush of partings
of pursed lips and lonely hearts…
we should go home birch
10.12.2019
December Or January Haibun Contest Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
Categories:
meditates, nature,
Form:
Haibun
A FARMER
A farmer is in a village .
24 , years , is his age .
He cultivates under rays .
One day , he meets with a sage .
Then , he says ,
‘ you will be the world famous , in future days ! ‘
Then the farmer becomes surprise !
‘ How is it possible ?
Is it true ? ‘
He thinks too and too……………
Next night , the stars rise .
An old man comes in his farmhouse .
He is too fible !
He gifts to the farmer , a white mouse .
And says , ‘ it is too lucky , really , truely !
Keep it carefully ! ‘
Then he becomes dead .
Then the mouse touches his head .
Why ? the farmer does not know it .
Later , one dawn ,
It is a spring morn ;
The farmer cultivates on his field ……….
He gets from the field ,
A big box , made by gold ;
Too old !
He picks it up , then ;
He breaks it’s lock , then ;
He sees that , in it , here is 3 manuscripts of 3 books ;
The farmer does not know reading ;
So nothing understands ;
Only he looks and looks ………………
Yes , then all are in his hands ;
Later , he reaches in that cortage ,
Where meditates , the old sage ;
Then the farmer shows the papers to the sage ;
And then , the sage is reading and reading…………………
Oh ! the old medical discoveries !
Yes , the medicines of the cancer ;
In 3 manuscripts , here are 3 names of medicines of the cancer .
And also all about , in details……………
He becomes surprise !
Then , he tells ,
To the newspapers ;
All read the all papers……….
Yes , the new stars then arise ;
No death ;
Oh ! then the forcast of the sage , becomes true ;
Oh ! the old faith !
Yes , then the farmer becomes the world famous man !
The whole world , then , becmes his fan ;
All say , ‘ I love you !
Too ……...too ………too ………………………………….’
Then that white lucky mouse says ,
‘ I stay in the cortage of the sage ; ‘
Then the farmer says ,
‘ why ? no ! you stay with me ! dear ! ’
Then the sage says ,
Hey ! from today , we all stay together ; too …… too near ! ‘
From that day , they all stay in a very big , new , palace ;
Yes , yes , yes ,
With bless …………………………………
With success …………………………………………………
Categories:
meditates, success,
Form:
Prose Poetry
HAIKU ON LOVE # 1
You leave me after we make love
Moonbeam falls
A poet shares my sorrow
HAIKU ON LOVE # 2
She coils him
Desolate
Autumn waits
HAIKU ON LOVE # 3
A love bruise
Wicked parrot
Season of rain
HAIKU ON LOVE# 4
His words were diamonds
Wizard of love phrases
He stole my garments
HAIKU ON LOVE # 5
She offered her warm breasts
To her lover in winter night
Icy wind roared
HAIKU ON LOVE # 6
Two leaves are tangled
The tree meditates
He does not know our raptures
HAIKU ON LOVE # 7
Words are lost
Glances weak
Glaciered infinity
HAIKU ON LOVE # 8
My neighbour’s wife
Pulls me
To a sobbing counter
HAIKU ON LOVE # 9
Sighs heavy, hidden moon
Moans, pleasures of the night
Cruel kisses bleed
HAIKU ON LOVE # 10
She fell on my chest
Stunned
By the dart of love
HAIKU ON LOVE # 11
Hold on some more and hold on
Until the fire is put out
And he would close his eyes
HAIKU ON LOVE # 12
I would wager
He would leave soon
With a trail of cinnabar
HAIKU ON LOVE # 13
He was a noodle
As her eyes were nearly shut
And bottom of the sea sloshed
HAIKU ON LOVE # 14
I had to hold her like a python
Brute yes I am, I couldn’t lose time
To be ambivalent
HAIKU ON LOVE # 15
His tired legs staggered
He fell again on her bosom
God is so ungracious
HAIKU ON LOVE # 16
Incredible cavern
Big black cat walks on curling passages
In search of snail trail
HAIKU ON LOVE # 17
Last night’s sleep
Washed out
My lover’s petting
HAIKU ON LOVE # 18
My husband’s ancient kiss
Fades away
Like charming baubles
HAIKU ON LOVE # 19
A young man hid behind his shadow
At the edge of the river
My bath aroma seeped through his skull
HAIKU ON LOVE # 20
My wife was parabolic
She could not make love
Before her voyage to comet
HAIKU ON LOVE # 21
I can go down her slit
If the river gets more time
To watch my owl
**************************************************************
Categories:
meditates, autumn, emotions, fantasy, girl,
Form:
Haiku
sometimes I smile wondering how we were all moulded
With beings calling themselves true worshippers of God
With this gospel of Christ that was spread by apostles
People led by the Holy Spirit and never loved the world
Thinking deep about this gospel that leads me book of
Psalms 1:2 where God meditates in His own word
Day and night knowing that the word is Him
Leaving me wondering why He created me
Giving me a clear reason that am Bound to worship Him
Many Christians are lost yet they represent spiritual kingdom
Logging ourselves in every Sunday mornings has been a habit
Criticizing the sacrifices made by true believers
Forgetting that they stand by revelation 12:11
Where they conquered the devil by the blood of the lamb
Christians are charged with hearts of jealousy and ill mannered
Forgetting the first love of Christ Jesus in the beginning
Making loudest noise and giving largest parts of their wealth
To cover the true selves of the demon that built an altar in their heart
Not forgetting Matthew 23:4 where they tie heavy cumbersome loads and let other Christians carry for them
Like Pharisees as Isaiah prophesied and said
They honour God with their lips but their hearts far from God
Where they speak of love and are in light skipping 1 john 2:9
Whoever says is in the light and hates his brother is still in darkness
Smiling and nodding for Titus 1:16 where they profess to know God
But they deny Him by their works like the glaze covering an earthen vessel are fervent lips with with an evil heart in proverbs 26:23-26
Feeling the agony of the Holy spirit of how His church
Has turned to be a den of robbers by also
Rejecting the true way of Christ and avoiding paths of righteousness
Only to remember God in times of high tides and hurricanes
The house of God has been clothed with punctures of
Hypocrisy, greed, first class honours and taking advantage of weak souls
For the day of the Lord is coming running to revelation 22:12
Where He will pay according to our deeds
Where will you be standing in the day of judgment
And what will you represent that day
When all doors of help will be locked .
Categories:
meditates, bible, confusion, devotion,
Form:
Epic
Present Date: December 25, 1995
Envelope Date Stamped: December 23, 1944
From: _______ no return address but clearly overseas
To: Addressed to widow living in same home 54 years
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The Letter
The letter came by mail on Christmas Day
The envelope was clearly decades old
No postal service can be used today
From overseas the stamps were sealed and sold
This could not be about the man I lost
The mystery of where he is remains
Is MIA from World War II his cost
In this enfolded missive clue contains
An overwhelming fear takes hold of me
To get this letter on a holiday
My life content but miss my man at sea
Potential subterfuge to my dismay ?
Sit next to flaming hearth not thinking clear
There's something that this letter has to say
Mentation meditates the chiffonier
I put away to read another day
Categories:
meditates, first love, lost love,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
The sea is beautiful, strange, and mercurial -
tour de force of nature,
since time, immemorial.
A vast mighty ocean,
when it rises and roars,
fathom upon fathoms
down -
to the sea floor.
A friend of the fishermen,
the sea sustains us,
with great gifts from heaven,
yet, sometimes, perilous.
When storms arise,
the wall-like waves
break men, like mannequins,
and few are saved.
Yet great ocean journeys may set our minds free,
when expanding horizons
blur sky and sea.
Away from the commotion
of day to day life,
one meditates,
loses all track of the time.
Our minds
swim the ocean,
dive, and collect
the long buried treasure,
they can not forget.
They return to the surface,
and they come back,
with stories to tell,
that arise from the depths.
The nature of the ocean’s,
in the paradox,
of lives it has taken,
cast ‘gainst the rocks.
Yet through our desire
to master the sea,
man traveled the globe,
made discoveries.
The sea has some secrets
that she likes to conceal -
she speaks in a whisper
in a conch shell.
Listen to her murmur words in your ears,
and listen, most carefully,
to all that you hear.
You’ll hear stories,
and legends of the sea,
of seafaring warriors
and mysteries,
of land that was plundered,
and stolen at war
from indigenous peoples -
from countries, afar.
And sometimes, the sea,
as she heaves mighty breaths,
steals the land back,
that the victors kept.
Hostile, inhabitable land will remain,
when the sea rises up,
to take her terrain.
Copyright Suzy Davies 06/19/2016. All Rights Reserved.
Categories:
meditates, beauty, imagery, nature, ocean,
Form:
Rhyme
Mutiny Of The Mind
Did You Eva Stop to Think
What about tomorrow
What is really on the other-side of today?
Should I force myself to go along
When my insides tell me, things are wrong.?
Did You Eva Stop to Think
Could my life had gone a different way,
If I’d chosen a different route?
I think I could have took another stance
Against injustices and Brutality.
One day I thought, and realized
My thoughts were never really my own
That day I vowed to think my thoughts
Speak my words, in my own tone;
Stop and think while being alone.
I will Listen to that still small voice;
That will guide me to that perfect light.
If I Ignore my deep-down gut
My inner-voice, will yank my heart
I really had to stop and
think - What about eternity.
did you ever stop to think,
what about forever.?
Not religion nor popular opinions
Nor culture or traditions
Neither the number of votes,
Nor the amount temptations wealth.
Can ever again make me feel right
About doubting myself.
Did you ever stop to think;
That people who cause mind mutiny;
Mind your business well.
As if they have you under scrutiny,
And want you beneath their spell.
Did you ever stop to think?
Your life requires your participation.
Without participating in your own life
Where then will your soul go.?
Flesh rots: Hearts keep records,
Bones slowly decay and sink.
Before the soul flies away...
A hue-man can always change his ways;
Man, must secure himself against negativity.
Before he reaches the brink.
If only, he meditates awhile and
Seriously stops and thinks.!
© Vicki Acquah,
Categories:
meditates, feelings, future,
Form:
Verse
The things I've been, the things I have been, the things I am, things I'm to be,
a symbol so dark, a sign so brite, a mark of the heart,
shadow of the soul,
rind of mind,
as the Buddhist meditates on mandalas of rich color,cycles,devas,dangers & devotions
I embrace the world with all my senses, with vigilance,
riled rhapsody,
Christians sewing psalms into the conscious
confounded with temptation, condemnation & damnation,
as Buddhists focused towards an ineffable destination
my terminus is an awareness that explains purpose without pain or pleasure
but with an indomitable patience for being in perfection,
as blue is blue for blue,
Freemasons have their acacia & aprons,
the magic of History, of memory, of Brotherhood,
I shall memorize the wrong & right of my behavior, of my beliefs,
carry the cross of carelessness, rub beads of bemusement,
scratch thy palms upon the rough ashlar,
bleed for the sake of beauty, for the right of recognition,
as a hawk glides and swoops with an exactitude
reminding One not to waste effort, to combine instinct & strategy
into trusted tactics, salvation found in solitude,
intuition aimed at the heavens can demonstrate
there is knowledge in not knowing,
serenity can be secured through suffering, happiness in creative endurance,
a nomad, a monk, mother of a nobody
may teach that freedom is measured as strength through degrees,
chessmen bespeak the value of loyalty & sacrafice,
police have a badge, judges gavels, bankers use notes, psychologists study dreams,
artists utilize shapes & sounds to elicit feelings
evoking meaning for life,
perhaps superstition is ultimate motivation,
subjective & collective interpratations for reality which make it all tolerable,
that special definition making life personal,
when a culture abandons, or forgets the symbols of it's constructs
how can it survive,
continuity can not color & inspire posterity,
a tree without water,
as when a human neglects itself,
disfiguring the ideal into something rueful or baleful,
then the mystic symbol must change with it
as rich soil to mud,
the symbology survives, elastic and plastic like a spider web in the wind,
nature will always reconstruct,
teaching that our lives are inflamed imprints for the future -
J.A.B.
Categories:
meditates, blue, endurance, nature,
Form:
Didactic
A young girl craving for adventure;
dreams of life in faraway places.
And listens for whispers in the wind;
matching sounds with customs and faces.
She meditates on the beach at dusk,
watching sunbeams gild a golden sea.
And as Night's shadow envelops her,
her inquisitive spirit feels free.
She indulges in fantasy dreams;
by loosening reality's grip.
And willingly bids the truth adieu;
when imagination books her trip.
This girl with the heart of a dreamer;
hitches a ride on a shooting star.
And to return home, she has but to
open her eyes; home is never far.
Categories:
meditates, beautiful, fantasy, feelings, imagery,
Form:
Quatrain
Rose quartz reposes
in peridot buds
Jade trees dangle
Ruby Reds
Unafraid
lapis jays swoop
on a topaz cat
with emerald eyes
lazing
under a citrine sun
Amethyst iris preen
through amber rays
of afternoon
the shadow
of a moon stone
whispering
behind an aquamarine sky
A silent pool meditates
in turquoise
1st Place
Contest No. 300 Premier
Sponsor: Brian Strand
6/21/17
Categories:
meditates, garden, imagery, nature,
Form:
Imagism