Best Motif Poems
As the southern wind slides on the satin ambiance,
you sprint in the shimmer of the flushing meadow,
the disheveled hair softly swirling on your face,
designs the ebony lattice of lilting grace alluring.
The blushed face caresses the lone leaf flying enticed,
that’s when love weaves a mystique motif on me.
You glisten in the golden gleam of twilight charisma,
your smile configured by slice of cloud’s silver edge,
glints the leitmotif of the silk sky before the night falls.
When from fervent storm surge of longing you emerge,
warmth of your moist cheeks the whispering leaf gets,
that’s when love weaves a mystique motif on me.
My yearning window opens on the visage of your trail,
I see you dance to the rhapsody of the cascading rain.
Floating on the waves of the beguiled gale passing by
the blooming magnolia tree I had nurtured for years,
a leaf falls and quivers delighted on your luscious lips,
that’s when love weaves a mystique motif on me,
and I turn into a leaf.
June 15, 2020
Contest : All Yours (Feb 14)
Sponsor : Brian Strand
With pen in hand I sat, clearly I could visualize
the graphic scene I intended my readers to see.
Each detail was so vivid when I closed my eyes;
a child, happily singing beneath a dogwood tree.
Trying to write the words, my breath was shallow.
How could I describe the curled edges of a leaf.
or the color of soil in the field beyond, left fallow?
How was I to aptly convey Spring in poetic motif?
My pulse quickened as I filled my pen with ink
Images were copied from my mind to stationery.
Gray skies came alive; leaves were fringed in pink
Verses flowed freely; I dared not dawdle or tarry.
There was nothing ambiguous in what I had penned
Expressed realistically, the child's voice could be heard.
Through imagery, a poet has the ability to transcend
readers into each verse when the imagination is spurred.
Milieu iconography with flashing lights
Smokey gambling rooms—gang wars
Flashy suits and fedora hats in the fights
Neon signs flashing—this world is yours
Hey, get a name with the next phone call
Surely, he can’t really be all that rough
While hanging out in a flower shop stall
Like bowling pins fall he wasn’t tough
Whistling “Chi Me Frena?” surreal assassin
As Shamrock night club they all shot up
Coin flipping henchman hell risky brazen
Bang—he won’t sip St. Peter’s golden cup
Crosses on bodies from iconic gun blast
Even barking dog can’t stop the tragedy
Tony’s sister like a baby’s toy dances at last
Just seems like a wild circle of comedy
Wearing a scar as one from the war
Nation’s shame 1932 gangsters shown
Killing people to take over, what for?
Whistling assassin your life is blown
© Joseph, 5/29/08
© All Rights Reserved
Honorable Mention
Super Slueth Contest
Fun Free verse on Movies
Sponsor: John Heck
Our life is as evanescent as the
trumpet flower of the morning glory.
The merest chapter in the history
of mankind’s ever compelling story.
Various serendipitous ramblings
ultimately contingent ‘on quarry;
retold to captive audience in tones
melodious as silver-tongued lory.
Redolent of an evening-scented stock,
with a crown of wispy hair as hoary,
we insist to recount all endeavours
in its minute shocking details: gory.
An experience that's unsavoury –
remnants that cross river Styx in dory.
Poetic form: XAXA Sonnet. See my article, Introducing Three New Sonnet Forms, here on PS for more details. Also, a 'Summary of Metres' is depicted.
a thousand orbs bearing, thus
connected, all, or put to dust
focused photons press the link
escaping matter's tacit brink
stretched to ovals, masses bent
horizon robbed of failed events
to stay the sacred horrors, rife
malevolence for sake of life
yet how much harm is evil dealt
constrained to feast upon itself?
wonder-spangled void expanse
sagacity its utter chance ...
marvels, mighty, gone unseen
matters not that they have been
aesthetics cherished as a breath
or dreams avail a sentient death.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Late Summer Premiere Poetry Contest", Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Make up your mind to create more,
Seek form and kind with joy galore.
Make magic work the way you ask,
Seek a sure jerk that pays fond task.
Make moments count in wealth that comes,
Seek source and fount where health now sums.
Make time pay well for words that tell,
Seek cheer that dwells with bounty's spell.
Make space for more that fills your stores,
Seek joy galore to shape some more.
Make rewards flow in ample streams,
Seek now to show a living dream.
Make time each day for vivid play,
Seek more to say good feelings pay.
Leon Enriquez
13 May 2015
Singapore
ellipsis of words commas swirling jewel jaded man earth sky
Are lingering sighs, while expressing disbelief
Showing some frustration ere welcome relief,
With sincere, rapt attention to what it entails
Carefully absorbing the minutest of details,
Sometimes with the aid of a silk handkerchief.
Then, too, observing the most foolish mischief
Showing itself in a variety of impetuous motif
Sending one off the straight and narrow rails,
Are lingering sighs.
A heavy sigh can denote suspension of belief
Or registering information requiring a debrief,
To assure utmost security from whatever assails
Attention-getting, to be sure, notice never fails,
Quite different from sudden breath-taking grief
Are lingering sighs.
Again you are enslaved by your
past. The comfort zone.
You were very emotional
at defining moment.
The mist halts the onslaught
of unstable pain. Gives
an excuse to thrive, for
the fallen angel from symphony.
Stitching the drab evening
with moon’s needles. I will
not bring the white shroud
to disconnect with plumbago.
Visceral feel. You must find
out the name of the black
hole when belly was
ripped apart.
Satish Verma
My meditating, closed
eyes seek guidance
in ribbon motif.
Exquisite, purposeful box,
glossy-silk embossed,
appears in light.
Prayerfully tossed cares
fill its depth.
A soothing lid,
peacefully slid, adheres.
Ribbons in rapture
dance, pleat, weave -
bundling box upwards
towards lowering hands …
loving, revered hands.
... CayCay
March 28, 2019
To the world,
drives the
phenomena...
To the common man,
the heart demands,
to the bird the abyssal
flight...
To the poet...,
All reasons...!
The seamless sky called life shined in boundless beauty,
on the rippling breeze flitted a butterfly free,
on its wings I painted lattice of my being,
flowers in the garden bloomed all seasons for me.
The dawning horizon splashed the spectrum of bliss,
as on the wings of dream I was on course to fly,
euphoria took me to realm of fantasy,
I didn’t see storm clouds gather at the edge of sky.
Splintered in the flickering vive of tinged twilight,
in the vortex of spasm I saw my sky decay,
crumble with my crushed dreams in the abyss of void,
in its dark depth I found the end of my pathway.
The flushing garden turned to withering debris,
wilted flowers didn’t see the new sunrise in spring.
Surge of winter storm carried away the petals,
the butterfly lost motif of its broken wings.
____________
August 5, 2022
Syllable count : 12 per line
Contest : A Brian Strand Premiere Choice
Sponsored by : Brian Strand
Live from your heart,
Let magic start;
Have a great day,
Style your own play;
Craft then sure art,
Love sums all parts;
Hurl faith and hope,
Sculpt joy you scope!
Be of good cheer,
In any game;
Learn to be you,
With all things due;
Grace fills pulse clear,
Happy lives here;
Start right each day,
Glimpse rainbow rays.
Leon Enriquez
19 December 2015
Singapore
It is really nice
When things in the house are white
It feels warmth and bright.
They called the Willow Bunch
they lurked around the
Ruschello Mio looking to
find jobs. They had skills
to impress and they wished to
work. They sawed wood for the
canteen, They were butchers
and cooks. Saggio the next to
the oldest of the six was seen as "clean and cute"
he had his way with women and often times
found himself in the middle of others
relationships. He once told a woman
"that being poorer than
your lovers husband makes
you the crazy person
in the relationship!"
They all were musicains and Saggio
could sing. Durning a concert
at Ruscello Mio while singing
a large fella rose from the crowd.
He piddled around and slowly
creeped onto the staging area.
When the audience began to
applaud he
jumped the stage and began
scuffling with Saggio
the band quietly start out
after the large fella and
held him so Saggio could leave.
Saggio grabbed his jacket and
headed for the door. A woman back stage
started saying "that my husband Saggio!"
"That's my husband!" Saggio ran to her
saying" the economy Baby: the Economy,
what did I tell you!" The hugh guy said" that
what I'm talking about ya'll cheating!"
we got Saggio out of their Without him
getting pulverized. Weeks later
we found out that the Canteen owner and the lady
had got together and started dating.
They hired the huge fella to act
like her husband to scare Saggio: we it worked!