Best Nocturne Poems
Cats on moonlit roofs,
Stilled, watching the city sleep,
Fireflies in their eyes.
A secret whispered on the wind,
The forest wise would keep,
As gentle moonshy babes were rocked,
Into a silent sleep.
Discarded clothes from naked trees,
Lay scattered on the floor,
And laid the path of true romance,
Towards a welcome door.
For in this lowly Woodman's rest,
True Magic played her hand,
And well prepared a fledgling nest,
For lovers to command.
So there we lay as lantern's flame,
Did flicker imps of light,
Which danced and laughed 'cross bodies bare,
And teased us through the night.
Brushed against a bed of furs,
Your touch was so divine,
Entwined and tumbled laughing wild,
Becoming yours and mine!.
The Time,The moment and the love,
Were ours to hold tonight,
As high we rose above the clouds,
Engulfed by passion's flight.
And if tomorrow bears no name,
And melts like gentle snow,
I know this night will warm my heart,
Because i love you so!
Over the pond’s lilies’ leaves,
morning dew settles glistening sleeves —
a covering to compliment the green,
a translucent, hint-of-blue ~ from a quivering
mist hanging, hushing everything, so all the doing
of sunrise dances must in-stasis remain…
~ or transfer by essence to the understanding
intuiting within — to find birds preen, not taking wing;
and trees upswing drying branches, delighted by wet dew.
All breathe the notes of summer’s ending nocturne
composed throughout the woods and, now, day upon day,
repeat that lullaby, trickling the scales as in a piano’s play
to accompany the year’s passing time, turning into autumn
with her blazing, flaming, dazzling, bejewelling
before Mother Nature deeply exhales — weeping dew
over all her gardened Beauty blooms — beginning
their fated wilting, falling, final, felt arias’ murmuring
the refrains life plants within, holding a promise of re-birth
to come past winter’s dominance, all frozen still
with a quiet sleeping peace — prelude to renewal…
to dawn’s Spring dances and the refreshing touch of dew.
Placid night
Surrounding me
Let me feel
The warm wind blow
Caressing me;
I want to feel
To remember
Like in a dream
The sweet breathing
Of Ornella
While kisses me.
I oiled the card of daily being
splashing the paint from glass; I pointed
slanting cheekbones of ocean streaming
on plate of jelly, I was joyed
to read the calls of some new lips
on tin fish scales; oh, it is cute,
But could you play Nocturne on ribs
of very noisy drainpipe flute?
P.S. My translation of poem by Vladimir Mayakovsky
No one stirs the night, but the wind
Old wind chimes play to the moon
Caught in the breeze they swoon
to soothe the dark night...
Used to lure sleep
Reap dreams from
night with
ease
_________________________________
10/10/15
For Contest Infinite Infinitians
Sponsored by Charlotte Jade Puddifoot
Clouds of my mind
Chashing away the rainbow of you.
Monster realities casting shadows
Again and again and I am afraid
Of losing you.
I turn to run
But love blocks the passage to my escape
And I stay
And wait
For your return
Because I know you love me too!
Soon the clouds disappear
And the monsters were never here!
Strauss waltz in the air
Tales from Vienna Woods
A swirling leafs Impromptu
In silent night's shade
all tidal carry vanish
lost in black oceans
An impressionist’s pastel painting of the foe,
Releasing unheard sighs of a sinner’s woe,
Mere wisps of his charred and tainted soul,
His empty eyes resemble burning holes of eternal coal,
Seeing only deathly pale faces lined and worn,
While following an eerie voice full of spiteful scorn,
Leading him towards lost corners of insanity,
Where he’s bound to serve ‘til the death of eternity.
Eidolon creeps amongst the bonfires of hell,
Where wretched souls burn and spasm in this fiery cell,
Him, hidden in illusions his mind created the surreal,
Captured spirit behind solid bars of steel,
His timeless existence in oblivion and spoil,
Still climbing higher and higher, to where he lays,
Where Eidolon walks cloaked in sinful ways,
A cloak befouled and woven in sin:
A weeping widow’s rope-round-the-throat,
A drunkard’s drowned body a-float,
Greedy lord whom robbed the poorly,
A psycho who raped his first child, mercilessly,
Their damaged souls tarnish this cloak of sorrow.
(I know it isn't complete and it's kindda goosebump/nightmare material. Sorry about that.)
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A NOCTURNE FOR OUR MEDICAL HEROES
Literature is filled
With narratives of
Individual and collective
Acts of heroism.
The shining armor
Of righteous knights,
The Robin Hoods’
Of world history,
Bandolier draped chests,
Fighting a heartless
World that preys
Upon the powerless
Trapped in poverty.
We search the horizon
For visions of soldiers
Bravely raising a flag
On an embattled hill.
We seek for leadership
In an absentee government,
To find only a vapid vacuum
Of intelligence, draped
In self-indulgence.
and corruption,
spreading as easily
and as deadly,
as the pestilence that
is killing humanity.
“Where are our heroes?”
Where is the new Moses
To rise among us,
To protect and lead
Us from our wandering
In this desert of death.
One, for whom the good
Of the many out weighs
Personal ambition
And self-gain?
To whom can we
Entrust our lives,
And the lives
Of those we love?
Rescuers arrive,
Draped in the soft cloth
Of medical scrubs,
EMT uniforms,
Armed only with
Bandoliers of compassion,
Love, and self-less service
And a stethoscope,
A mask and face shield.
Their hearts emblazoned
With the words,
“There is no greater love
Than to lay down
One’s life for a friend,”
An altering life
a differing hell
Where the dancefloor is burning
Where the guests are unwell
Where the dancer's eyes burn
seared to the core
But not a single sound echoes
From on the dancefloor
Far from our world
another does burn
The slow scorching dance
The ballroom nocturne
On this winter's night
beneath sallow skylight
amidst prismic snow mist
wading snow banks that sank like shallow quicksand
beneath it deadened land
Falling snow gleaning grows taller than my height
stretching into snowfields,glowing bright as summer daylight
Yearning winter days photographed
when snow painted cedars cast
black shadows against incandescent snow
Timidly crossing glassen iced paths over frozen flowered meadows
snowflakes falling like flower tree pedals
windblown snow crystals pelt and prickle
Apparition whirlwinds whisper
glowing snow dust stirs and glisters
shattering ice crystals melting
glimmering streams pelting
celebrative seasonal window scenes
reflect and filter pearl moonbeams
through this winter's placid past is seen
winter nocturne dream
in stillness of dusk
tawny owl is heard hooting ~
a forest nocturne
Owl Haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Robert James Liguori
Date written: 10/15/2021
Nocturne
All through the night the moon
shines its silver beacon.
I sit below in my room playing piano
It is dark in the room.
no lights but the moons candle.
I play the beautiful soulful
moonlight sonata.
It was her favorite piece.
My fingertips touch the keys
as softly as the moonlight
caressed her skin
The vision is in my mind.
it is locked in old memory
in a place I always open on
nights such as this.
when old feelings will not sleep.
Outside my window the world
Is covered in pools
of silver moonlight.
All I can do is think and feel
of you
only of you.
You are far from me now
In another world
that I shall never know.
A world of light and gaiety.
As my heart falls
in tune with the soft melody
I close my eyes
and see you dancing
with me in the moonlight.
In the fantasy of my dreams.
You smile and say
“Be sure not to drown in pools
of moonlight My Love”
As if it could stop me from
Drowning in my sorrow