Best Navigates Poems


Premium Member Whispers of the Moonlight Dance

Written: July 06, 2023
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In midnight darkness, a smart spherical roll
Its treks into clouds as ships over hidden shoals.
Wandering hearts strive for their final day.
Hide-and-seek with woodland dwellers play. 

To embrace a lover's chin, a lack of mystery
You sparkle and vanish as promises blistery.
Then depart until your eyes tear up.
Ink-splattered sheets won't dry in the cup.

So, any time of the day, retain a sunny face.
A scentless heart's scent is spared by grace.
Your curved grin is burned into my soul.
I cannot claim uniqueness or be whole.

So as to achieve discover a covert bearing.
And seize the place of daydreaming.
Whisperings of the moonlight dance
Reverberate over the vast, dark glance.
 
In the depths of night, secrets unfold.
As the clever sphere of silver and gold
Through midnight shadow, it rolls and glides.
Guided by unseen hands, it silently abides.

Such ships through hidden shoals, navigates,
Through the vast unknown, it patiently waits.
They crave a love that is pure and true.
A link that will bestow spirits to renew.

In a game of hide-and-seek, the moon does play,
As forest members peek in the moonlight sway.
They watch as it dances, casting its spell.
Enchanting all who dare to dwell.

A wishful lost mystique, in the moon's embrace,
Longing for a touch, a lover's grace.
But the moon is elusive, a fleeting dream.
Such as promises that vanish, it seems.

It glows and then disappears from sight.
Leaving behind a tear, glistening in the night.
Too late to dry a page where ink stains smear,
The moon's presence lingers, a memory so dear.

Even in the daylight, its beauty remains.
A reminder of the love that forever sustains
But the brightness of the sun cannot allay
The ache in a heart that's scentless in decay
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Meditation On a Spider Web

Between a flowering hedge
and garden path illuminator,
an ancient ritual unfolds.
In motion,  her fascinating legs
are silver lit and busy as they knit 
a geometric circle.

Perfect, concentric as she navigates
in  the half light, it glows unfolding
from her orb, ready to be touched
by morning dew.
Circular, suspended in light from
outer edge to inner circle 
she rests at last within its centre.

Taut to each claw a strand is fixed.
Death will come tonight for
some unsuspecting creature


1st. Place Premiere Contest No. 6

1st Place in SKAT's Premier Contest 6

Something Beautiful

I want to write you something beautiful
Can I show you I am right here
I would live all my life alone to prove that
I'm so madly in love with you

When were apart 
I can't breathe
You have all the right parts
You fit perfectly in my heart

What you do to me
Is something beautiful
My missing puzzle piece
Pirate my seas 

You're all I can see in the horizon
This love navigates me like a compass
I pray it leads me to something beautiful
If it doesn't ill keep on trying 
until my last breath meets the face of death

I have a great love for  you
The unknown troubles us two
I'll be forever alone if I have to
Because I want something beautiful with you


Shebouncedrightoff

She bounced right off of Saturn's rings
                 nnnnnnnnnnnnnweaving through the stars.
     She had her fill of earthly things.

                  Like cantelopes and cars.

               She only yearned to start anew,
        she only meant to try,
   to do the things she couldn't do,

                     Like look me in the eye.

                       She treads the silver surface,
   twinxt Jupiter and Mars,
                          The Ether's cold but she grows bold
     and relishes the scars.

                      She navigates the cosmos,
with glitter in her hair,
                             The stardust lands,
       on all her hands,
                                 but still she doesn't care .

                       She won't bring back a Moonstone,

      she won't bring back a rock.

                                  She flies alone
        out on her own............

                            I think the girl's in Shock.

Premium Member Tailored Dreams and Tattered Realities

In tailored suits that hug the form,
A businessman strides, exuding charm.
Briefcase in hand, he’s on his way,
Chasing the dawn of a brighter day.
Polished shoes click on the city’s grind,
With visions of fortune and power in mind.
He navigates crowds with purposeful grace,
While the world sees his polished face.
He buys a cup of coffee to wake him up,

But just a block down, in a world apart,
A homeless man sits with a weathered heart.
Tattered clothes drape his weary frame,
Invisible dreams wrapped in silent shame.
His eyes tell stories of battles fought,
Of lost opportunities, of hope for naught
On cardboard canvases, he sketches the sky,
Each faded star a whisper of why.
He steals a bottle of Vodka to warm him up

Yet as the businessman races toward the prize,
The homeless man watches with knowing eyes.
Two paths diverged in a city of light,
One chasing fortune, the other, the night.
In a world that prizes the polished and bright,
Both carry burdens, though hidden from sight.
For wealth and for want, they share the same street,
In the dance of existence, where heart beats
In the streets of the city where duality glared
Two strangers, same humanity shared.
© Rowe Weiss  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Surfing Consciousness

Surfing consciousness 

Within the womb of existence
Sensations borne of resistance 
Navigates spectrum of delight
As bestowed on soul’s sentience

Undifferentiated light
Enlivened by love, shining bright
Infuses in the void, intent
Creating a pulse, day and night

Innate to soul’s the bliss current
Exuberance effervescent 
Both receptor and transmitter
Of love and light luminescent 

09-May-2022


I Will Grow My Hair For You

I will grow my hair for you
in this dark and quiet night,
I say it to myself
think about the grass growing for the early spring
and the frozen trees, beautiful and cold, will also grow
to merry land I'm heading
the sail of hair, with the same darkness, flowering your white pillow
in this dark and quiet night,
you wouldn't notice and see 
they are growing without sleep
all of them are growing together and will sing, tomorrow
tomorrow they will sing to you silently and hurt my eyes.

still I want to grow my hair for you
from tonight, this moment on, 
when the chilly breeze sends me the message of soil
through your window screen I can guess
seeds sprouting, streets branching like wild, rain clouds shedding tears that eagerly,  
and all the others coming through, too:
March, April, May, June...spring, summer and every season
days and months and all the years ahead
coming one after another
marching to my dreams
all the future, navigates without waking you up
ah, you'll never know,
you've travelled with me in this boat
naked and sound
before the sun comes out, tomorrow
tomorrow you will only see the cherry blossom
so ripe that fell
snowing our pavement


2011/3/14
© Ha Ha  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member - Labyrinthine -

        The labyrinth of love
        butterflies in stomach
        First touch hand in hand
        spiral bound pages ready for scribbling
        handwritten page by page throughout
        Imagine being somewhere you don't recognise
        pretty lost and clueless
        how to arrive out ?
        The world is complex and enchanting
        Archers stand at the entrance and exit

        We walk this sacred path, together
        Navigates through each curve
        Every now and then we need to be reminded
        that stars need darkness to shine
        There is a lesson to be learned in every situation
        Desperately, we yearn to understand the answers
        on the complicated mystery
        - what is the conclusion ?
        Where life and dream meet and separate
        of harmonious words into eternity
        The soul gets bird wings and flies freely

Premium Member The Desert

a rattler flicking its 
split tongue...gathering
chemical messengers~ Prairie Dog
without a prayer

vulture, periscope downward
navigates a granulate sea, 
follows the wavering flow of tracks~
just over a grilling crest his meal
falls, pauses and pauses and pauses

he waits a bit longer on the sun, dinner
sun-baked and organic

Premium Member The Undelivered Postcard

A sliver of horizon, stiff in hand,
it bears no city, street, or promised land.
No inked direction on its back is set,
a silent promise, a forgotten threat.
It is a vessel built without a helm,
a ship adrift in a vast, indifferent realm.
Its message, trapped within the pulp and dye,
a whispered secret passing readers by.

It speaks of all the words we leave unsaid,
the phantom letters in the heart and head.
The “I forgive you” or “I love you too,"
they’d never find their proper avenue.
It is the bridge that ends before the shore,
the key that fits no lock upon the door.
It holds a sunset view, a painted sky,
intended for a specific, single eye.

Its life is one of stillness and of wait,
a transient object sealed by silent fate.
It knows the sender’s hand, the stamp’s brief kiss,
then plunges into the communication abyss.
It lies inside a drawer, or on a shelf,
a lonely testament unto itself.
A metaphor for chances cast away,
a sun-bleached memory of yesterday.

The postal system, in its structured might,
delivers day and navigates the night.
But this card breaks the code, the golden rule,
a rebel item, a stateless, wandering fool.
It mocks the logistics, the sorting machine’s whir,
a phantom address with no destination, sure.
It is the story told to no one’s ear,
a bell that rings where no one is near.

Perhaps its power is in the void it keeps,
the silent promise that within it sleeps.
For while addressed, its journey would be done,
beneath the gaze of a specific sun.
Unaddressed, it belongs to all of us,
this little card, this wordless, world-less fuss.
It carries every possible reply,
a universal, silent, hopeful sigh.

So let it rest, the unaddressed postcard,
a little piece of life we’ve held unbarred
from finality, from being truly sent.
A perfect moment, perfectly unspent.
It is the poem I write that you won’t read,
the planting of a universal seed,
awaiting recipient, could have been,
a memory in time that no one had seen.

Depression Is a Great White Shark

Depression is a great white shark
who navigates the green sea of my emotions
ravaging parts of my aching heart
with his teeth absorbed in bitterness and loneliness
leaving behind shipwrecks of life struggles
and broken relationships in his wake
© Mia Pratt  Create an image from this poem.

The Voyage of Life--Youth

Ruffling gold blooms and leaves, hue dimmed by time
A gilded frame holding a slice of life’s history
I’m drawn into the younger man, the vision sublime
Sailing stolidly upstream towards his destiny

A castle in the sky, all ether and phantasm
Drawing him nigh with its ivory flirtation
The possible reap of his boundless enthusiasm
Limited only by blossoming imagination

As he departs, I do wish to share my blessing of age
Hard-won patience and placid perspective
If only to inform him, to act as his sage…
But would it deter him from his futile objective?

A glance as he navigates, back to the angel he calls
Warm reassurance for his doubting mind
Far behind the angel, a modest castle's solid walls
Little does he know, the home he will find

Vainglorious dreams bathe in youthful euphoria
With volcanic demands upon fate and destiny
Unpretentious walls’ comfort to replace phantasmagoria
Brash strivings supplanted by consistent humility

I envy him not, his naive, headstrong trouble
Through pitched battles, my dream castle faded away
So lovely, yet impossible to heal the burst bubble
Such ethereal visions life's truth did betray

5/9/16
For Contest:Within a Gilded Frame
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Inspired by "The Voyage of Life--Youth" One of a series by Thomas Cole.

Into the Blue

paddling out
	in a stylised freezer container
sustainable propulsion
	for a fossil fuel by-product boat

he floats into blue tranquillity
	watching the bottom slide by
as rocks weeds and shellfish
	give way to the unfathomable

he navigates his speck of flotsam
	into a world
where cormorants bathe
	and stingrays bask in the sun

his cares
	stranded on a sandy beach		
their urgency diminishing
	in a shrinking line of importance

paddling into blue
	his thoughts ripple
like wind gusts
	stirring but brief

internally focussed
	waves rise like an epiphany
dragging him in
	to an uncharted future

Premium Member Wolverine

Wild as a beast in action
One man of no direction
Living with immortality and screams
Voice over uncontrollable dreams
Exhibits hostility over injustices
Rebounds with amity and kindness
Invincible and unbreakable, but sober
Navigates the world over
Enlisted service man and man of his word

Oh, Shell Shock!

Inside out sun hole
Navigates concave pea bowl
Full degree skin jump

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