Best Narrating Poems
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Be Still
Whispered words arriving on teardrops of the wind
They call to me
Embracing me so that I may exhale
For a moment in time
I look down to see the child woman curled up on my lap
Quietly dreaming
I stroke her sleep dampened hair and
Caress her cheek gently with my palm
Oh, child of mine
Allow me to reach in and
Cradle your wounded heart
Let me carry your pain and worry
Stirring, she turns her face revealing
A half-eyed sleepy smile
A gift I have treasured for centuries
Remembering the day
I walked through the trees of time
Lime, emerald, forest green, moss, juniper, ochre, and kiwi
Yellow tinged velvet leaves ride silver breezes
Tree people
Miraculous sacred creatures
Birthed of mother nature
Beckon me onward and inward
Towards water’s edge where moving mirrors of
Intellect and mystery await me
I walk with my companion who rides on my shoulder
The white hawk of my dreams
Narrating our passage through space and time
Howl Howl Howl
Stories above me, monkeys wearing fur
Play and swing
Screeching, flying, and tumbling through the air
Reaching sacred river’s edge
I pause and hear silent footsteps
Of the others joining
I gaze at the flowing water
Reflections of the lost ones float by
Faces of those who have passed from this life
I reach out and kiss each one with my fingertips
All of us gather ~ standing and joining hands
Collectively we reach up towards the heavens
We rise as one
Taking a moment to listen and
Receive grace from one another
A glimpse and a grin are shared
As I squeeze the weathered hand
Of my fellow human
Up Up Up Up
We float above the majestic green canopy
A glorious carpet of
Lavender clouds awaits
The day moon and the day sun kiss
As they watch us rise
A moment of gratitude shared by all
POTD
9/12/2023
battle of the sexes
~~MONA LISA SMILE
Picture Oil painting worthwhile
Leonardo DA Vinci, look out!
What is she really smiling about?
(((The popularity of the Mona Lisa increased in the mid 19th century
because of the Symbolist movement. The painting was thought to
encompass a sort of feminine mystique.)))
~~JAMES EARL JONES
His award winning voice, rough like stones
Darth Vader, Mufasa, stuttering jubilee
When I die can he be the one narrating my eulogy?
(((I love James, I'm a star wars freak... <--- yup that's me)))
~~SADDAM AND BIN LADEN
Were very bad, bad men
Causing chaos throughout America & Afghanistan,
HATERS OF THE USA: they should be called the Arab ku klux klan
(((Occupation: Terrorist~ makes me wonder if they went to the same school.)))
~~ADOLF HITLER
The world worse killer
Commander of the oxymoron Nazi
Losing at his own game of Yahtzee
(((The Most Hated Murderer of all time)))
~~YOUNG ANNE FRANK
Her diary worth more than any bank
Famous Jewish victims of the Holocaust
Her legacy teaches that hate is an exhaust
(((Anne Frank's diary remains one of the most moving and widely read
accounts of the Jewish experience during the Holocaust.)))
~~JOAN OF ARC
Angel in an era so dark
an epic hundred year war
her visions is what she payed for.
(((Joan of Arc, also called the Maid of Orleans, a patron saint of France
and a national heroine, led the resistance to the English invasion.)))
~~BB KING
Can really sing
Stand by me...
But, can he sting like a bee
(((BB KING~ could not help but wonder if he was a lover and a fighter.)))
~~LADY GAGA
Is no piano sonata,
Madonna wannabe, is she.
Watching her videos make me laugh till I pee.
(((Lady Gaga is Unique as can be!)))
by;p.d.
for battle of the clerihew
My existence seems like a timeless tragedy,
ticking away in the harmony of misophonia and me.
I've been reluctantly raised in the arms of trauma,
hiding from the darkness looking over my shoulder.
I place a metaphorical knife under my pillow,
as I fear the biggest bully in my mind's playground.
Sound is like a sadistic samurai slashing at my sanity,
as innocent echoes become the euphonious chant of despondency.
An eldritch echo of anguish triggering anxiety,
a constant conflict between the shadows and the soul,
narrating a sorrowful story in each tear I shed,
but I'm shouting into the void of ignorance,
no one understands why I've bled.
Each breath is like a riddle,
each munch and crunch tasting like monotonous moments of meaningless screeching,
erupting into an earthquake of emotions.
Nobody understands the chaos from within,
thinking I'm a little bit crazy.
I search for a sanctuary where peace meets me at sunrise,
where screams of a sonorous mind are not shattered in fragments of estrangement,
portrayed through the plentiful imagery of pain.
I yearn to live a life mocking butterflies,
to flutter in the flakes of eternal slumber.
begging to lose the blessings of perception,
as all I hear is evil voices chattering from within.
Silence is a poison I'm willing to take,
yet I'm cursed by misophonian lullabies.
I wish to remain isolated within mental muteness,
as I know you will live forever in me.
sure...she'd forgiven
though heart had been riven
she loved him: a given
she said, "it's Ok...
that's how the boys play.
Don't worry, I'll stay
but not again, hear? No way!"
But that broken trust
shattered by his lust
turned contentment to dust!
Forgive him, she must!
she kept it inside
could not bruise her pride
to the gossips, she lied,
but something had died
she smiled and she gave
her children to save
Acted steely and brave
must take secret to grave
But what of her dreams?
in the silence, she screams
her tears flow in streams
Can life be the same?
his infidelity has a name
there's no shame in her game
she's wild and not tame
So in shroud of the night
with no sound, and no light
With no one in sight
she slits wrists, oh so right!
the next day...what a fright!
Blood stained words that he read:
"'I forgive you', I had said
but when I'd lie in our bed
all I could see in my head
was you with her instead...
Dear...I'm better off dead!
I'm..better....off....d..e..a..d!"
Eileen Manassian
Footnote: I am NOT suggesting that someone who has been betrayed take this path. I am narrating a story of a single case. I'm sure there have been poems, songs, stories in literature of the kind. I mean no offense.
By evening five we started ,
Our christmas shopping activities.
My wife on the lead, her purse full.
Me appreciating her choices elegantly;
Kevin, Andrea supporting my task ,
Our activities ended by nine.
tired we, wanted to sit and relax,
“How about a cool drink? “, my wife.
“Yes, Yes, we should “, I replied.
We walked in to a hotel, lights dim.
Seated we happily, bearer so quick ,
“Four royal falooda “, my wife.
“Da a jungle story”, my children
At last, I got a lead role to play, I thought .
“You know nothing to make these kids laugh”, my wife,
She started narrating a jungle story with expressions!
my children started listening, I too!
Royal falooda came.
I asked bearer not to disturb.
We got in to our world,
My wife,” Once upon a time a fox and a stork lived in a jungle”.
I said, “might be near a lake”
“Yes, yes”, my wife.
“They were good friends. But the fox was very selfish”, my wife.
“Could be like me”, I said.
“Yes,yes”, my wife.
My wife, “One day he thought of a plan to tease the stork”.
“Could be like you”, I said.
“Shut up Da”, my daughter.
“The fox invited the stork for lunch”, my wife.
“I know this story”, screamed my son!
“Go ahead, go ahead”, my daughter.
“The stork accepted his invitation happily-
and reached on time for lunch”, my wife.
“Poor stork”, I said.
“Now the fox played a trick and presented -
food in a very shallow plate”, my wife.
“Poor stork”, I said.
My wife, “The fox finished his food in no time but-
the stork was not able to have his food at all”.
“Poor stork”, I said.
my son started laughing noisily!
My daughter too joined him.
I struggled badly to appease them.
My son said, “Da, I too couldn’t have my falooda at all”.
we were offered a small plastic spoon!
falooda was in a narrow tall cup!
We know not, but we were struggling
I laughed at my wife. She was awe struck!
I said coolly, “I never follow etiquettes",
I threw the spoon and drank the whole falooda!
My children followed me.
My wife threw the spoon; screamed, “Idiot”
She was firing the bearer.
I was laughing silently.
Nowadays people have lost sense!
written on 15-12-2013 for the contest "Any poem #5" by Poet Destroyer A.
Oh, mythical fairy, how bashfully you woo me tonight
Attuning love’s lyrics to music of the passionate night
Alluring astral delight, the moon and stars you invite
Dazzling passions emanating from your enticing eyes
Twinkling celestial heights in scintillating smitten skies
Seducing tenor of fiery night, as sparks of love ignite
Inflaming sensuous hearts under opulent moonlight
As the lady of mystique embraces her beloved knight.
Whirling rhythms of my tempo in glamorous dance
My desires you waltz beaming glances of romance
Hypnotizing me brazenly in clutches of exotic stance
Arousing flirtatious entreaties clamoring to conceive
Tantalizing sensibilities yearnings of bosoms weave
In forbidden web of transgressions, longing to unseal
Secrets of fantasy world, titillating your occult zeal,
As essence of love’s enigma surrenders to my appeal.
Savor my dear, elixir of life, before it’s time to depart
Painting portrait of this union on canvas of my heart
Narrating love poetically, reminiscent of Rumi’s glory
Adorning fable-eternal, scripting rhapsodic allegory
Beholden to doting night, unwilling to meet the dawn,
As echoes of our heart-bells endlessly toll on and on
Urging for this dream to live on, stilling reign of time,
Cuddling pleasures divine, satiating fantasies sublime.
September 24, 2020
Placed 2nd: The night of passion and desire poetry contest
Sponsor: Faraz Ajmal
I saw the rage in his gaze,
His seductive art
I felt his digitus medius, longing to write his name inside my ****.
He charged up as usual
Still looking little unsettled with a sudden crash of energy,
I wanted to escape the situation, but his grip was tight and manhood hard
Enough to melt me down and
Drown in his love
Bowing in front of him
like a slave for an individual.
I could feel his warm breath
on my already perspiring neck.
His phallus expanding
making me lose my sense.
With his each powerful thrust
I wanted to take everything off my soul
Deciding to surrender my body
In front of a beast, I collide.
After all the chaos he already caused
His eyes were clear and bright.
I was his trophy
He won, gambling his own life.
His pearl whites were giving me bruises
His rough palms were squeezing out my juices
His legs powerfully
Intertwined with mine.
His voice murmured in my ear narrating
His passion, sorrows, and mysteries he hides.
He collapsed on top of me and
I was still burning inside.
I felt unworthy of what was happening to me and his eyes kept reciting
"Darling, I love you!
You're mine."
He continued carelessly incorporating
his wildness in the purity of my life
Surely, he made me swoon over his voice
Reading my lips making filthy signs.
Over his obscene touch and erotic noise
It was the moment when I felt
I cannot take it more
I found my self engrossed even more in his crotch every time.
He knew what I yearned for
he gave it all to me slowly
tearing me apart.
His warmth lay on my belly
And we felt glued together for the rest of our life.
-Prithvi Gulati
Narrating breaths,
Tell the story of love.
Deep...inhales of desire,
Caress the long exhales of passion.
Warm flesh tales read,
Verbalized by each soft breath.
Paragraphs of Goosebumps,
Traced and translated by the tongue.
The taste of smooth ivory skin,
Satisfies...midnight cravings.
As her ardent veins,
Throb with excitement...beckoning,
The initiation of our nightly chapters.
Resting atop the highest tree
Gazing all that is around me
Enjoying nature feeling free.
Weather is cool with a soft breeze,
Sinuous midst mid-autumn seas
Of glorious shades of dry leaves;
Spiraling gently downward weaves,
Beneath the bluish shade of trees.
Light-shower of cool rain appease,
Sunshine reflects rainbow of peace.
My heart's rhythm quickens; distancing
Slight movement in the brush teasing
Interest. Umber leaves stirring
Beneath narrating stately trees.
Spreading my wings, pleased eye now sees;
With sharp talons my prey I seize.
Hooting, I sit securest ease.
8/9/2020
Contest Name: Nature Rhyming Poetry
Sponsored by: Brenda Chiri
It was just another ordinary day
Scattered notes are all over the place
Drums trying to maintain a certain beat
Guitars either strumming or singing
Violins studying their scales and arpeggios
The piano pouring out its player’s soul
Clarinets and flutes blowing out harmonies
A mesmerizing vocal cuts through
A white butterfly flutters freely
Basking in the building’s flowing melodies
Students rushing in and out of the cafeteria
Sheet music in their hands while eating
Leaves of variant colors fall from the trees
The wind blows in one direction
Compensating for the scorching hot sun
Taking turns as nature takes its usual course
Old friends reconcile and greet each other
Re-living past memories and narrating the present
Speaking of profound concepts within their discourse
Anyone overhearing may be left confused
It was just another ordinary day
Scattered notes are all over the place
Many things happening all at once
Yet the resonant music remained unnerved
My father had a passion to swim in the open sea
He used to shout, come on,” *Babu, will teach you”.
But never had the courage to respect his calls due.
While I sat on the sand watching his swimming glee.
One day he caught me and threw me in the water
Splashing hands here and there I learnt it sooner
Happy inheriting that passion of my father forever
Those were the days of the Second World War.
A Japanese ship was into the Arabian sea anchored
We had a bet to swim up to the ship, touched duly
And came back to the shore with the tide safely.
I learnt a lesson to swim against the tide undeterred.
Taking part in a speech competition extempore
Narrating the experience of the successful swimming
Got addicted to the passion of theatrics unknowing.
My first stage appearance shedding the stage fear
Head and foot engrossed in the activities of the theatre.
In Paris’s National Theatre my old passion was fulfilled
After 40 years, in1989, dramatized, acted and directed
“La Tartuffe” of Moliere called France’s Shakespeare.
===================================
*****I have placed some pictures related to the poem on my blog******
(It is written in Rhyme, enclosed rhyme and Quatrains)
=========================================================
* Babu is my nickname. At present I am living in Windsor, Canada with my daughter
Luna who has named her son BABU after me. I asked Babu let us go swimming
and I will teach you swimming. But he said he already knows swimming.
That has inspired me to write this poem for Babu.
Native dances
Delicious frybread
Narrating stories.
Down the street at the corner, the sodium
Streetlight casts an eerie-yellow glow on the sidewalk
Below, a feint hissing sound emanating from escaped
Gasses. Up the stairs, just a few feet away, I'm narrating
A sequence of myself carrying a large kettle filled with
Chili, my look confident, my shirt spattered with
Bubbling sauce, unseen are the remnants of the
Bomb
Blast...blood-stained parts of a little boy's shoes, fallen
Off as he crawled home, not quite to the door.
Sleeplessness, a byproduct of artificial LED lighting,
Historians
Agreed
Where hand -held devices and
Computer screens disrupted tidal waves in our brains,
Leading to irrational decisions by our
Leaders, dooming
Civilizations not yet born,
New, 6-handed life forms were
Imported from other planets
Un-earthing gold and iridium, along
With relics from the 21st. century,
In an effort to more
Accurately erect memorials to a
Vanished society,
The
Chili
Was
Good
11/8/14
© james marshall goff
Let me drape upon you a written robe,
beautifully indexed on your tablet.
My! you look divine,
off we go to dine on literary flavours and liquid verse.
A five chapter meal we just published.
This evening with you was a stunning essay read like a swift summary.
Narrating your life’s novel,
I record and archive,
citing the volume of your smile,
punctuating the exclamation of your eyes.
May I undress you with my pen,
printing kisses on your pamphlet lips.
Nonfiction foreplay is the order of the day
with teasing stanzas and touching tomes.
Your skin the clear scroll,
we edit with rhetoric as I explore the fiction of your passage.
The lexicon of your moans, would a fine manuscript make.
This plot you will review then quote.
You descend from that last paragraph,
this memory shelved high in your canon.
My pen has woven for you a silk word blanket;
as you lay on my journal pillow;
wrapping you in the epigraph of my affection.
Blood everywhere,
Shattered windows,
Pieces laying on the ground,
A bad backwards accident,
That happen in town,
From the end,
To the beginning,
From finish to start,
If your reading this,
I'm narrating it,
From finish to start,
Along the broken road,
A car lay broken,
The rolls of this vehicle,
Before it stopped all of a sudden,
A collision from the side,
A head on vehicle,
Does life flash before your eyes?
Bloodied bodies,
Your looking over yourself,
If things weren't hectic,
And this didn't happen,
You would be on the road,
To your destination,
Several of flips,
Rewind and go back,
Why didn't someone else life,
Get take off track,
The tears,
The thought of being alive,
What did I do so wrong,
And why am I still here,
They say when it's your time,
God will appear,
It isn't my time,
But i'm not strong,
This storm that has happened,
Made this accident more then I can Hack,
we fight our battles,
Day in and out,
Some make it through,
While others always have doubt,
Moral is,
Even if your strong or not,
When it's your time,
It's your time,
A bad accident,
A storm,
Nothing will keep him,
The man upstairs,
From bringing you to your final home.......