Best Meridians Poems
I once had your love which sailed on the shores of sorrows,
Broken hearts did shove the tears thru echoes of morrows…
For it is only time, that I have to find you on Cupids arrows,
It would be a crime if our love escaped the nefarious narrows;
Guardians of time, give me entrance so I may find my love again,
For I shall climb the portals of passion to stop the ravaged rain…
My love is lost amidst chambers of time and obtuse Oblivions,
In a frigid frost I circle and navigate thru loves morbid meridians;
Where calamitous clocks hold back the hemispheres of devotion,
And providence blocks the wheels of love and eternal emotion…
Father time of infinity bring me back to the day that we first met,
Restore our affinity of ambient amour before the Time Lords forget.
June.09.2020
Time Poetry
Sponsored by
Chantelle Anne Cooke
Placed 1'st...Thank You
Categories:
meridians, devotion, fantasy, time,
Form:
Rhyme
Remember Me
Cold wet coastal today
I escaped
Sat myself behind a sanctuary
The rain beating rhythms
On window panes
Hot coffee and brandy
Warm inside The Athena Café
Radio spends its missed tuning
Hissing tinny tunes
Love songs
Of losing
Love songs of having
Love sings
Of wanting
Blank the grey sky
Flattering dreaming thoughts meander
On emotions wandering
Focus themselves
With photographic memories
I see
The smile
White satin dressed
Curls of auburn red
All I fell for
All I lived for
My Princess
Her crown tilted
The mischievous angels
Of her
I sigh
As my fingers remember
They once ran themselves
Through your hair
As my lips in accord
Re-taste the peach
Of kisses
I once knew
Sometime so long ago
I can hear your voice
Silent echo
A touch in my soul
Sentient it is
Hieroglyphic speaks
Reverberating something
Deep and known
My eyes replay moments
Of vague tactile loving
These trespasses
And these memories wishing
Batter at some-where’s
Deeping
Inside of me
Aching
Longing
Word forms swirl
In printed pages of you
And send messages of distance
So far from me
So far
From you
To a horizon which is
Part of me
Out into grey meridians
My heart travels
While my seconds record
The splitter and splatter
Of rain on the window pane
Looking back at me
With your reflection
Another cigarette
My coffee cold
And nothing but froth
The heat of my brandy
Matches the twists of floating smoke
Sends my thoughts out riding point
To the cavalry of clouds
With the banner of love
Rides wing-ed horses
With fire on their hooves
Lifts all this nescient knowing
Rushes headlong
To you
Tiny rippled pools
Drop on the sheen
Dark colours anew
Of rain fall continues
One more coffee
No more brandy
Time to leave slowly
And some how find an end
For this poetry
Find a way to Morse code my heart
Out into expansive skies
And wrap my arms
Around you
I remember the home
Of holding you
The rain has stopped
Categories:
meridians, loverain, rain,
Form:
Free verse
I know I’ve made a thousand journeys,
withstood the tests of time and foe
shed the dust and shouldered worries
struggled onward against the flow.
Unconforming, seldom bending
straight the path I ever took.
Challenge was my unending passion
contradiction I forsook.
I’ve battled tempests ‘fore and ‘hind me,
I’ve seen the devil at my heels.
Seldom knowing what lay before me
never knowing how respite feels.
I’ve seen the Valkyries and Forty Furies
their mazy circles in the sky,
taunting, haunting, ever daunting
beckoning from their aeries high.
I’ve crossed the searing sands of Gobi
and scaled Himalaya’s rocky tors,
badlands, wastelands all behind me,
walked upon the Seven shores.
I’ve gazed upon the Northern Lights
and seen the Southern Cross at sea.
I’ve traveled east and journeyed west,
no home or kindred claiming me.
No ebb of tide did succor bring me,
no place of solace ever found
but grappled fiercely all that challenged,
gaining purchase on the ground.
I rose against what life beset me
with courage the gruel for my soul,
hampered, harassed, never emptied,
firm and resolute toward my goal.
But it’s finished now, I’ve done my part
and I’ve left nothing uncompleted.
No looking back, no ruing thoughts
all my convictions undefeated.
And now I’m on that final journey
through all meridians of time and space,
with hope to meet the God that gave me
aeonian fortitude to run the race.
© August, 2015
Categories:
meridians, adventure, courage, freedom, identity,
Form:
Carpe Diem
You are day and night to me—
Much more,
My before
And yet to manifest
Within You I circulate
While beyond You
Still more of You
I seek to elevate—
The vine of my spirit
Reaching up, and then
Further,
Each leaf of me suspended
The craving
Is light—
I am in balance…
Elevating for illumination
All of me
Grasping and lifting,
Following transparency
Of new veins
And meridians,
Seeking mastery
While saturated
With love....
Categories:
meridians, allegory, allusion, freedom, light,
Form:
Free verse
Held in my hand a fallen leaf…
let go before the season: should
I not question the reason, even those
of God? Or only the foul-play of
man?
Determined I traveled the veins,
like a palm-reader reading her
mark, some earnest applying thought
mystical craft – traveled did I the
many meridians, like bread-crumbs
along a forest path...curiosity eating
away as I passed --
What learned I cannot say
What felt I cannot pray
Over-looking the greatest treasure
in retrospect found
entered the light of another day
Categories:
meridians, faith, freedom, inspirational, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
seven days a week... the intervals in between
can shape twilight into scented ambrosia
and turn noontime to boiled potion of tan,
dusk smears the sky darkening bronze
while an eve, a textured chameleon...
the shrill and serenity of minutes
can blaze the air with time's ecstasy
or numb the splintered liver of pain's regret.
are these days that pour of subway’s sweat,
then emboss night with a vault
of celibate, white stars? coffee and newspaper
expire as the hours dwindle into clockwork ticks.
and hands cradle an endless space
bathed in the moist kiss of dawnbreak
floating on a veil graced by
life's alchemy, unbidden...
seven days a week: a deep hole lost
in a melee between men and beasts,
defining not the terms and conditions
of human traces that linger or stain
the lines of meridians blending haste with
pace?
there are no answers,
i just wade like a child becoming a fetus
without all these adult specs rendering
white stars,celibate...
in seven days a week.
Space and Time Contest
new poem
use of small caps is intentional
2/12/2014
Categories:
meridians, life, mystery,
Form:
Free verse
in my foolish quest for scrambled words,
your inspiration becomes a heady sensation
carrying me gently from the troubled traffic
of my desecrated hours, as if i were entering
under the skins of our candle lights: bringing me
to embers of moments terribly free, like you..
and there, we become weightless on our
open map---the meridians and continents
passing through the mists of time and space,
oh how my lips and this my striped soul
adore you: wandering effortlessly on
the terraces of our own love, war and peace.
~
often, at daytime, at night call when stars
seem to cover their cherubic faces
and i feel the throb of my faltering heart,
your company i embrace, telling me
how to live...as our sheets grasp in surrender;
my tender moans start to bleed...
then i become one with your skin, bones,
and hands: through sips of wine and tea,
i have to say today and after:
~” Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain.
I love you still among these cold things…” ~
i feel i am everywhere; i think of how many
i can be with our candles and songs.
........
*excepts from Pablo Neruda’s “ Here I Love You”
* please allow use of small caps
........ .. .........
Poem for Frank H.'s Best Contest
by nette onclaud
Categories:
meridians, inspirational, love, love, me,
Form:
Lyric
(The supernova observed from
Earth in 1572 was a major event
in human thought, because if
stars could explode, then they
couldn't be eternal lamps,
hung out by God.)
The cold stars glimmered
where they hung
in their accustomed places
on the underside of heaven.
The imperceptible gavotte
proceeded up aloft:
those little silver lamps,
dipping or climbing,
went about their business
oblivious of human time.
A scholar of the firmament,
incurious, unthrilled,
at ease with the inevitable,
the trueness of meridians,
stared up, unflinching.
The milky smudge of Cassiopeia
swam into his lens's narrow field,
and our student of the permanent now saw
that which he knew he could not see.
It caused no greater shock
than a snarl of irritation.
We always miss the moment.
The quiet glory of that tiny cloud
of far-off starstuff
marked the noiseless passing
of some unknowable sun.
And though the watcher did not know,
he was party, too,
to a monumental dying.
Categories:
meridians, history,
Form:
Free verse
Mary’s Tribulation
She wept from the depths of her bowels
For the child she brought into fruition.
Not knowing in her love,
She would witness the greatest of all sacrifices.
Tortured nerves washed with vinegar.
Nails driven through meridians to increase the pain.
PAIN, oh so great, oh so long,
That a Mother would die herself...
Beneath the cross
She wept and her heart broke in angst,
His purpose to teach mankind.
Her witness to His Love.
So great, the task, His life
His walk, so brief on earth.
Yet thousands of years, the story retold
Eternal salvation unfolds.
That a Mother would die herself...
Beneath the cross.
Categories:
meridians, death, devotion, holiday, mothermother,
Form:
Prose Poetry
MERCATOR
Dude who in a cartographic essay
Made Canada five times bigger than USA,
And Greenland with room to spare
Much bigger than Africa way down there.
But his meridians all went parallel -
So when sailing your carrack or caravel
You could follow straight lines to get there:
Which proved at last the world was square.
Categories:
meridians,
Form:
Couplet
Acapunctre energy,
Back about 220 before Christ,
The yellow Emperor gave his advice,
Comissioned by Emperor Houang-Ti,
Use needles to direct the energy,
Acapunct-urely,
So close your mind dismiss the word,
Use western medicine, drug-dog-bird,
The drugs won’t set you free,
More blockages you will see,
For the narrow-minded nerd,
All sickness is channel blockage freeze,
Your chakras bog down with crap and wheese,
So get your 7 chakras to flow,
Breathe in imagine it’s grow,
Rainbow colours here increase,
and will nerve meridians to turn-on go,
Get rid of all disease,
The will in charge yes please,
A healthy thought, is so!!!
If mind block you release???
Don Johnson
Categories:
meridians, adventure, drug, , western,
Form:
Ballad
Joyfully chasing blue tail bunny rabbits through fields of dancing daisies....
Watercolour skies in lavender hues reflecting from, the marmalade moon
Mystical monarch butterflies brushed amid glittering orange and black
Gathering around Tinkerbell with her maroon magical wands silverish trails
Waving atop a cheerful cherry blossom as calling unto Lassie from across this
Motif meadows musical picturesque scene; Autumns, cresendo dreams ?
Crossing into evanescents evergreen pastel forest with its translucent trees
Met by a school of sprites led by Peter Pan, smiling at his girl as he takes her
By her lovely hand; whispering words as chimes in love and majestics
Tangerine notes of meridians metaphorical, welcome home....
*******************************************************************
....“Lassie's Song” *
Categories:
meridians, angel, art, autumn, love,
Form:
I scavenge for pressure points—
Press between ruled lines
My expressive probe,
Looking for literal nerves,
Meridians
Defining the direction
Of my poetry,
The resistance and flow of its current
Was I born to sleep,
Or be electrically charged,
Wired—
Magnetic pulses of activity—?
It is late night,
When I usually write—
Without a shrill, shadows silently come and go,
Nod—A suspended presence—
Not a word passing between us—
The air,
Tingly
Like sky and earth
Just before lightning bridges the gap—
Categories:
meridians, allegory, allusion, muse, poems,
Form:
Free verse
WALKING WITH RUMI
It’s a religious routine, his impious
use of scripture and prayer calling on god
for salvation and sustenance, purity of heart,
perhaps a way better job, or some actual proof
that his people still matter
His, is a god who uses archangels, heavily-armed
toughs, assassins and avengers, roaming the streets
of a gray paradise (neither heaven nor hell), their
big wings folded, their bow strings ready, their
quivers full of arrows, flaming swords sheathed,
their intelligent eyes marking dark, handsome faces
and awaiting the directives for savage air strikes
at far-away places, somehow weaving a route through
meridians and parallels, angling in low through the
hazy red dawn or coming in as silhouette against a
full silver moon to deliver against enemies
or just the people next door
Forever on his knees, he solicits relief
but I have other plans – I go walking with Rumi
a daredevil dervish who treats the concept of love as
a magnificent machine to be recklessly driven without
fear of collision or collateral damage
And he offers a dream about poems in Persian and songs
on the wind from a light without source
that illuminates all
High above Santiago, its six million souls and steep
mountain walls a dialectical drama about fertility and
faith, we negotiate a ledge, he walking on air, me hugging
the edge, still afraid of the tumble that could easily
shatter the glistening glass that I am
But there is something I know: My wife will come soon
with a full winter moon like a big tambourine over the
Andes at night, and they will play in the evening, they
will dance with the darkness and swallow the day
and then give it back, laughing, in the bold early
light of the red rising sun, and decorum aside,
I will dive off that ledge into all that she is,
into all that I’m not; let her make
me better and thank God that she can!
Categories:
meridians, love,
Form:
Free verse
Joyfully chasing blue tail bunny rabbits through fields of dancing daisies
Watercolour skies in lavender hues reflecting from, her marmalade moon...
Mystical monarch butterflies brushed amid glittering orange as black; gathering
About Tinkerbell with her gentle maroon, magical wand silverish trails waving atop
Cheerful cherry blossoms while calling to Lassie from across this motif meadows
Musical and picturesque scene; Autumn's cresendo dreams ? Crossing evanescents
Evergreen pastel forest with its translucent trees; met by a school of sprites led by
Peter Pan smiling at his girl as he takes her by her lovely hand whispering words..
Chimes their love majestics, tangerine notes meridians metaphorical, welcome home.
Categories:
meridians, love,
Form: