Best Obscurely Poems
the waning moonlight thinly enveloped
the dusky canvas obscurely sprawling
across the way from the window I looked,
I knew a park was there with slides and swing
but for the moment dark revealed nothing,
for the moment I didn’t care, either
because in darkness I felt even darker;
I was lying in bed embraced by regret
of decisions of love and time wasted,
spooning the layered sheets of doubt and fret
all thawed out from my heart into my head;
The memories of hurtful comments said
by and to me were chastising voices
of ghostly choices purposed to depress;
As dusk became the night I became lost
in whimsically strewn wishes and pleas
to gods and stars and genies alike, crossed
as eyes crying for mother drowned in seas,
I spoke to nobody but begged for keys
to unlock another time, another place
to start all over again with new space,
To unseen gods I had long since quit on
I prayed, bargained even, another chance
and I’d do everything right this season
- A jobless man needing a pay advance,
But for thirty three years nary a glance
had alpha or omega set on me
and this night I expected no divine decree;
several hours elapsed as I collapsed
in smoldering thoughts of suicide fanned,
- I had outlasted night’s concealing grasp,
and as the morning sun began its planned
ascent, I gave into Hades’ command
through my tenth floor window whispered to me
of hellish suggestions to jump and flee;
on ledge I stood and looked across the way
for one last glimpse of earth and pastel sky,
- a small souvenir of my final day,
My eyes settled on last night’s park from high
above, and that’s when I saw God’s reply,
- an unspoken answer for eyes turned blind,
His deafening promise to all mankind;
by his heavenly brushes came colors
where none had been, transforming lonely space
into one of vibrance and life renewed,
- and it was a different space,
I watched as birds celebrated morning
with songs of praise and thankfulness,
- and I felt a quick waning emptiness,
I heard the children below lining up
for the school bus all on time and ready
to live and learn in this new day granted,
- and I felt like I knew nothing at all;
but then I knew everything all at once,
and I stepped off the ledge ready to live,
ready to embrace
ready to seize life found…
in another time.
Categories:
obscurely, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Springing free from glistening
Fronds
The summers heat leaps for
Height;
Whilst drifting obscurely far
Above
A distant lark now hangs in
Flight.
Floats down his sweet trill,
Accompanied by joyous and
Uplifting revelry,
Over the black crows nasal
Calls;
Whose draped shadow,
contemplating devilry,
Flaps and furtively falls
Into ripening bean fields
Planted in neatly sowed rows:
Nourished in darkest till,
Enriched by pedantic verse of
Gaelic odes.
Do now these gentle Slopes
Pause to yield
Where secretive song,
Bursting forth, is much concealed
inside the plain of Aidhne;
For here the great rock of the
Burren,
Whereby so implored upon,
Revealed its grey stones...
To rebuild ancient and deserted
Thoor Ballylee.
Sweeping briskly past a tors
Grassy island busy in bloom,
Eagerly cramming under four
Crouched arches,
Skim the borrowed waters of
Thee immortal Cloone;
Dappling currents
Dawdling around squat stanchions -
Staunchly carrying the quiet bridge
Over the old concourse:
Momentarily loitering -
Wantonly begging to coyly swoon...
Now, joyfully sporting in gushing
Discourse,
Gleefully courting elusive and
Glimmering enchantments:
Mirrored reflections enticed to
Enter -
To be forever trapped within a
Burbling rivers sacred rhyme and
Tune.
Higher and higher the spiraling
Stairs of de Burgo
When through airy woodland
Glades
The towering shadow sought;
And higher and higher the spirit
Of an ageing poet...
His crowding thoughts
Roaming freely amidst these
Fabled legends of Gort.
Harken then to the feathered
Herald -
Tis Gods design that calls on
Ye!
For few men know of what he
Sings...
He sings of the forgotten paths
Forever lost within Innisfree.
Categories:
obscurely, memory,
Form:
Rhyme
Some people write of
things they know...
feeling more daring,
I prefer to explore:
start with a glimpse,
or chase a shadow,
a sliver of light
from a strange door
left ajar, on a path
I obscurely saw –
Some people write
while I more dream,
imprinting pages
with a glint and a
gleam – in pursuit
of some ever
illusive beam....
Categories:
obscurely, imagery, imagination, inspirational, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
By Vicki Acquah on Thursday, April 18, 2013
Prince Kennedy & Oladeji Vicki Acquah
Disappeared
We- are gone
diluted into oblivion
we have nothing left but our footprints
The handwriting is no longer on the wall
The noses are broken off
we are no longer us
Obscurely written out of
life's script, no future roles to play.
The primitive man and all modern
day caveman - and sand men have
forgotten the people of the soil-and
the trees and the water and the mountains
women behaving _nonchalantly___
as they watch -us being erased;
Written out of history.
What is left of us
we who write poetry
that does not impress wealth,
they eat, we die -- they drink
we go thirsty, they make
merry with their Dirty sex;
While we imitate our exterminators.
we disappear with
broken noses and borrowed hair
We are no more.
Our costumes died
then our children
with no past and no future
we are no more~~~~
Now that we are being
created by our scribes;
penned down ages before we could
realize that our solemn but
equivocal art, superimposed
with fervent sentences bore
more intonations & meanings
than maidenly sought;
We lie within our meditative silences.
Reminiscing the helter,skelter and
dither, through which our stories
were told in words.
While the strokes by our quills
fade & shiver to sheer posterity
but eventful mileages;
We beseech this forthcoming generation
To voice out in unison the
unfinished phrases, but clauses
yet again.We are now no more.
Although there were a few scattered
prospects yet to be achieved;
we lie abed not asunder,
With no regret or fear or whatsoever
We are no more.
Only in fiction shall we meet
To play our parts with unsung aptitude.
As our styles are pursued;
Until then, we are no more.
As life still beckons on
with trajectories being preached
but sold,We pray you, this age
that celerity & glee fuel your
palms but gumption's with
deepened emotions & thinking caps.
As the die is cast,
Till the results are known;
We are now no more!
Categories:
obscurely, art, emotions, racism, writing,
Form:
Free verse
Ten for a dollar, not worth a dime.
Two bucks gone, such a crime.
The emptiness of their shovel and pail.
Left twenty mud pies up for sale.
Babysitter blues, six at a time.
We're left searching for clues, with no reason or a rhyme.
Pain around our neck, feeling bought and sold.
In a world that's lost tender hearts of gold.
Faded maps of where to go.
Yesterday just doesn't know.
We're left to wonder, where'd we fail.
To just end up with this mud pie sale.
About new town in case it's too obscurely written. Peace.
Categories:
obscurely, dedication,
Form:
Rhyme
As light plays upon the dark, that moon through stained glass windows
cutting a swarth across cobbled floors.
It seeps into the cracks like it's found home at last
How a distant piano to a curious ear attracts
a de'javu moment and yet it is unwritten.
You follow the fleeting seeking some origin
reaching out for inspiration as if it were original sin
All recitations from what remains unwritten
Those words hidden under the tongue just below the surface of a heart.
Contour of an image meant to be lived, yet remains unchanged, namelessly forgotten.
Its a melancholy of indecision climbing the walls of narrow passages like wisteria
you adhere to the impulse to cover all that once lay bare.
I drag tired fingers around the next bend, the next barrier
is more impressive than the last.
There’s an attempt to grasp something in the lapse between thoughts
to trade abstract beliefs for the tangible, it is enough to inspire devotion.
a shadow climbs the wall only to stall in its climax
abiding but a remnant of the unwritten.
Something is always left in these corners where candles aid their illumination
and thoughts drift elsewhere in the dancing theatre of undefined movements.
The unknowing becomes vagabond to the warmest of comforts.
You find yourself in these blankets of cloud cover observing holes in the disguise.
The veil suddenly lifted, experience immediate, no longer a stranger
so you can gaze upon these mirrors and hasten that journey toward home
Home, your feeling is kept fleeting, A temporal haven so you can continue repeating
these steps that lead you towards the perfect escape.
Always almost there... In this world of smoke and mirrors
Trapped in illusion that holds time obscurely
"The Unwritten"
So we bend beneath the wing of watching eyes.
Trenched in the words of silver tongues, frozen by the voice of awkward edges
For if the unwritten were to be before its time, If it were to flee,
to break free and roam; Become the breeze through these hallowed halls
of desperate belief.
To write the unwritten...
Then though they'd cry and shout and leap, No wall could stretch from sea to sky
Nor any kingdom stop it.
It is etched on the soul more deeply than stone
And we have given it a name...
Our Destiny
Categories:
obscurely, emotions,
Form:
Free verse
Sprawled over grasslands yellow and desolate
Peppered across the breadth of ancient mesa
Who hides her creeks as they pass obscurely along
Subtle like cracks in an egg
With the first hint of dawn she is yawning, stretching her arms
Lights dispatching here and there as the morning fog descends
Plenty of days have crossed her over
Summer and winters come and go unnoticed heartbeats
The same streets we ran with untied shoes
And sped down hoarse of reckless dreams
Lead us by the hands to old brick homes
Where as always we are held by our little city
Categories:
obscurely, people, places,
Form:
Poem Title: 5 Minutes in my dream
My mind is a combination of many things
5 minutes in my mind you may see and understand many things
My mind beautifully made with no hands
Many thoughts that make up a lot of my being
Intellectual rich
My heart is lyrical, it’s amazingly beautiful
Empowered with so many biblical things
A life of extraordinary things
5 minutes 300 seconds to see my inner being
An uncommon human being with high self esteem
Who believe in accomplishing dreams
Visualizing so many optimistic things
So special, so brilliant
Talked about for many reasons
Can draw and write books about many things
5 minutes in my mind you’ll see how great is human
beings
Sharing artistic pieces of my dream
A vision I seen in many dreams
It was real like I already had what I seen
Passages come overflowing
Like a bible with a narrator
The word is my generator
Divided into a measure of time
“5 Minutes in my mind”
A trip to a gate of music and painting’s
Crayons and Music displaying my abilities
“5 Minutes in my mind”
A picture of several colors abstract designed
Obscurely hidden from one to understand, but easy to see
5 minutes within my intellect
Is rendering the greatest pictures you’ll ever see
Completely transparent entirely
My mind obstructs every detail about me
“5 Minute’s in my mind is like running through a maze it may take many days to figure out”
Martellis Thurmand
Categories:
obscurely, creation, fantasy, imagery, imagination,
Form:
Free verse
MASKED BALL – THE QUESTION
Maddening the music
In exotic minor key
Those ornate, blinding masks
That cherished memory
Scented the ambiance
Obscurely lit the hall
Rococo baroque and splendid
In period costume all
Which of them my goddess
My lady Persephony
All appear enchanting
Which enchantress she?
Will she our tryst remember
That October night’s repose
The special autumn’s moonlight
The wine, the red, red rose?
Categories:
obscurely, mystery,
Form:
Rhyme
The fresh air delivered no scent at that dawn,
When i was awaken without single yawn,
Saint trinity's bell was sharp-slicing through mist,
The last of the doubts in my dazed mind was gone
By all that is holly I wildly love you
On balcony sparrow has landed on wrist,
Which you back then held and with pink lipstick kissed,
The beaks of the sparrow did move, yet not sing,
As if voice untouched did no longer exist.
By all that is holly I wildly love you
I thought I heard singing in that ghoulish spring,
Your lovely blue voice that inside me still cling,
Oh treacherous bells you have fooled me once more,
I open my heart wide whenever you ring.
By all that is holly I wildly love you.
I watched as the sun which was filled with my sore,
Obscurely was setting on our grand amour,
I must have been sleeping the whole, full day through,
For sun it is gone. Gone is all i adore.
By all that is holly i wildly love you.
Categories:
obscurely, lost love,
Form:
Lyric
Today my heart is obscurely tenebrous,
It no longer dances to your a cappella heartbeats,
Neither does it tune to the acoustic of your heart,
It has ceased skipping a beat in a fashionable art.
Today the virgin forest in my heart is murky,
The trees bow in retardation for a snooze party,
The rowdy rackety crickets have broken limbs,
The fire flies are devoid of signature fire on their backs.
Today the once dreamy ocean in my heart is calm,
Its soothingly beguiling waves isn’t your balm,
The coral reefs are deeply engrossed in a death sleep,
Sea demons are surprisingly afraid of the storm’s sweep.
Today the roses in my heart are dried and shriveled,
Its thristle thorns prickle can leave one crippled,
Their ambrosial scent has faded away dramatically,
For the roses are no longer minty, but dried stigmatically.
Categories:
obscurely, break up, sad, sad
Form:
Rhyme
I am a true contemporary
who knows how to acceptably
write a poem. First with a tangible
aroma of burnt toast, I will run on
my imaginary couplets like a stroke
victim of the modern prejudices.
(Strophe’s choice is put aside, and
Iamb not going to count my feet.)
Once cute, most common figures of speech have
worn out their fashion like poorly matched metaphors.
(Do not rhyme, remember, do not rhyme,
as you wax nostalgic for some childhood time… damn!)
Pent up pentameter oozes with therapeutic
confessionals that spring or dance or likewise
incongruently twist uncomfortably on the page,
while conjuring an image both shamefully personal
and embarrassingly boring from a tourist’s slide show
or the shoebox full of faded, classic Polaroids.
Sardonically satiristic, I’ll reach-around to reference
an obscurely erudite portrait of some saint, like
Christina The Astonishing’s flight into the rafters
of the church to avoid the stink of her own kind.
And at the end of a turbulent typhoon of irregular lines
washing deeply into the recesses of nowhere in particular,
I will, after too long a time, finally and hopefully declare:
une mule morte sur les clefs du piano.
Self satisfied, I’ll end my rant -- non sequitur but unchallenged…
or would you prefer a tantalizing inquiry of you, Dear Reader?
Categories:
obscurely, on writing and words
Form:
Free verse
Therein, laying dormant,
veils of darkly reposed
secrecy 'neath
foamy seascapes'
frenetic passages,
languishing below
sunken treasures'
false facades of
reticently rolling
shrouded bluffs,
shaded blood obscurely hued
of impetuous intensity in
unceremoniously bound
covert convolutions,
a million ancient
undisclosed shadows hidden,
notwithstanding combative
rumblings of death's
unwelcome sycophancy,
depths of centuries'
old unparalleled stories,
whence hush-hush
undulatory influx
of defiant upsurges
and turbulence reside,
that which only the
winds of indiscretion,
clandestine spirits
& gods could surmise
...whilst privileged moons watch over amaranthine skeletons
Categories:
obscurely, allegory, dark, death, sea,
Form:
Free verse
What indignation hath a mothers fury
for one who illl-uses her own
Manipulation delivered obscurely
In speech or in deed intoned
Upon such one her wrath will rain
foiling their plan of ill gotten gain
no hope for the fool who does such things
who causes a mother to see her child pained
"Livid" much too mildly expressed
for the rage wielded razor sharp
especially when it comes from the one
she once tenderly gave of her heart
One thing more I will say
take heed and mark my words...
better you disappear with all your shame
then to face her and the hatred you've earned
Categories:
obscurely, abuse, anger, bullying, child,
Form:
Rhyme
I’m cold to the bone
All my life I have wandered alone
Though billions intone
Those others stray from my mind…
I trust my heart
To seal the truth of what I find:
The essence that reminds me
of seeking and of finding
that love
of mine.
With one breath
Rises the fate
That two hearts long to- to align
For this life
Dreaming of faith
in love
shall I now presume
to become all that I am and pursue
The wonder ensued
The wonder she still invokes..
or wander with
All thoughts wrest into needless flight:
Obscurely swirling blindly
A chance hands clasp in binding
for warmth
From cold
I am here
Waiting for you
To reveal what you hold inside
This unknown
Channels a dream
Of life
now follow the dream
calling forth to establish a scene
the things we have seen
leaves motives unbridled... yet,
still cold reserve…
assumptions dancing through the verbs…
the cells inside enliven
coalescing an alignment
of love
for you
all my heart,
all of my love
every thing this life shall reveal
all my will
given to you
my love.
Categories:
obscurely, dedication, hope, love, song-time,
Form:
Lyric