Best Obscures Poems
Caustic memories dissolve on my tongue
Lingering tastes of battery acid and nicotine
Cause me to choke on putrid saliva.
Staring at melting walls, clocks tick in unison.
Distorted birdsong hums outside of jagged windows
Under the warped sun, an unrepentant landscape blurs.
Freshly budding peonies liquefy;
Veils thin, evaporating the delusion of reality.
Why must I mould to the edges at your bidding,
Contort to the point of my own dysfunction?
For such fleeting worship, this devastation lingers -
Devours and disconnects my inner workings.
I lie highlighted in shadow, a beacon of quiet distress;
A dislodged scapula desperate to be labelled angelic.
Grounded, wingless, and forever out of time -
Wearing the last face you cared for as a comforter.
Neon venom warming twisted arteries,
Sinister patches stitched upon a breaking back.
A narcissist's crown digging into my head
Like rusted nails plunged into worm-infested wood—
Permanent disconnection, frayed cerebral cortex.
Blurred vision obscures insidious figures hiding in hushed corners,
Whispering in Babylonian tongue. Hallucinatory illusions haunt
What was a once-pristine sanctuary,
Now morphing into a surrealistic asylum.
Revelation exists above shadow in temporal machination,
I'm consciousness not yet swept up with sand;
Closed eyes cleanse my corneas - I rest in a balm of clarity.
Your power superficial, a cankerous cataract peeled clean off.
It is you who is bereft, washed up with the shell you created.
All the walls of your empty room fallen flat,
As I unfurl in the mirror beyond the shoreline,
I realise - it was never me you couldn't stomach.
Categories:
obscures, art, deep, imagery, poetry,
Form:
Ekphrasis
When doves on evenings, calm and still, call out a hollow tone,
They rouse a medley, old as time, so few have ever known.
The whispered lines of its refrains resound of yesterday,
In ancient tales and bygone trails that man cannot portray.
I’ve rode and worked along a trail throughout my many years.
I’ve heard the tales the sages tell of raging Longhorn steers,
Of soldiers marching single file or mounted days on end,
Of Indians, conquistadors and Rangers tracking men.
Mackenzie Trail is not well known for time obscures its fame,
But high regard is placed on it by those who know its name.
Its story’s scribed in black and white, its remnants etched in stone,
Its way was marked by sweat and blood, by grave and bleaching bone.
The broad frontier that it traversed had yet to be surveyed
And danger seemed to lie in wait at every turn and grade.
From Fort Clark Springs to forts on north, it led Mackenzie’s men
To risk their lives out on the trail, then brought them home again.
A mound lies near Mackenzie Lake, where horse thieves met despair,
For Rangers tracked their hurried trail and hung them then and there.
And near a barn not far away, in Live Oaks’ blissful shade,
The remnants of a camp still lie where soldiers often laid.
I’ve rode the trail and damned the rock that cost my horse a shoe.
I’ve crossed its draws that filled with rain and made my lips turn blue.
Its rugged paths have tested me and all who’ve come this way,
Yet, it remains my trail through time, my bond with yesterday.
Mackenzie Trail will long survive, a monument to will,
That I recall when I ride near on evenings, calm and still;
When doves exclaim in harmony, their lonely, hollow tone
And rouse the medley, old as time, so few have ever known.
Categories:
obscures, adventure, cowboy-western, historyold, horse,
Form:
Quatrain
FICTIONAL EMOTIVE WRITE
Since I was a tiny baby I was brought up by my grandparents and had a very happy childhood. I knew that they were not my real parents but they gave me such love that I didn’t ask any questions for fear of upsetting them. Grandma’s eyes would mist over any time anyone mentioned my parents so I knew something bad had happened to them
Whispers in the hall
The child is too young to know
They passed so quickly
I left home at 20, married and moved to a small town about 50 miles from where I grew up. I was always in touch with my grandparents, but over time old age crept upon them and I recently cleared the family home when grandma passed away. I discovered yellowing newspaper cuttings, which told of how my parents had been killed in a horrific car crash, it also detailed their final resting place in the local cemetery.
Family secrets
Scrapbook of old photographs
My parents smiling
Dawn is breaking and dappled sunlight streams through the trees. A veil of grey swirling mist shrouds the cemetery. I pull my shawl closely around my shoulders and begin my search. Strands of ivy hang down from the towering yew trees, its dark green tendrils wrapped around the grey granite graves clinging so tightly as if it was trying to hold up the graves like a puppet on a string. The fallen gravestones remind me of decaying teeth with many gaps where stones had crumbled with age and neglect. I walk slowly, reading the names of those who now had eternal rest. Eventually I found their grave at plot 142, where a marble angel watches over them sleeping. I scrape off the thick lichen, which obscures their names. Tears fall and I hug the gravestone wishing I could embrace my parents for real.
I greet my parents
Stone cold grave gives me closure
Heartbroken child cries
09~26~16
Contest Overgrown With Vines Sponsored by Broken Wings
submitted to ''H'' Contest, New or Old Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Categories:
obscures, death, grave, grief, heartbreak,
Form:
Haibun
The clock chastises me,
as painted petals bloom brilliance
in illuminated wonder that attempts
escape from the hidden crevices
deep within my beleaguered mind.
The beauty I seek is but an allusive dream,
flowing rags of worthless chattel
that fill me with words, heavy, like stone,
my rhymes but pointless emotional prattle.
Yet, still my need must pursue that dream
to create another verse so sublime as to define
me as me in a world filled with poetic doppelgangers
and, so, I write just one more sad, lonely line.
"Extant nectared incense she lit, burning inside, slow but alone,
Arrogant me, let her leave, as here I sit, awaiting the unknown."
Clever, perhaps, but are my words,
like the melancholy song of the lonely Lune,
beautiful?
Geez, or should I say jeez, no Cuneiform here,
shall I try once more...
"crystalline sparkles
achromatic winter jewels
spring paints with colors"
...to bring out in me that which,
through these many years of seeing
my world ravaged with emotional upheaval,
still, in its turn, allowing me to experience
love and enchantment from eyes
that held me in the warmest embrace.
"I see the storm as rage engulfs those lovely eyes,
the blue intrepid sea of passion's lost release.
Inside, the tears of torment flow to sooth the lies,
yet, pain remains in every moment's wish for peace.
As burning anger seethes inside of you
the path it seeks obscures your point of view,
and leaves the ragged scars of bitter love
left blurred like mist in sodden clouds above.
Emotional, these moments steal your gentle heart
and eat in to the darkened void that once was you,
but misplaced hate can not keep you and I apart,
when, with my shroud of love, your heart I will eschew.
I hope you'll see just how I feel for you,
for you are why I do these things I do."
Crap!
Total
crap I read!
and I chuckle
as I re-read it.
In a single sonnet,
iambic hexameter
and iambic pentameter,
the Bard must be turning in his grave;
I guess I'll have to try another day.
08/15/2018
Categories:
obscures, how i feel, humor,
Form:
A twinkle in her eyes tonight
evokes the thought that they invite,
though I recall, not long ago
my absence seemed more apropos.
The laughs that linger on her lips
bare more than many verbal slips -
the times they pierced me, sad and grim,
lie in the past, though far from dim.
She flayed me once... nay, more than twice,
she flayed me both with flames and ice,
and once again, predictably,
she primes me for catastrophe.
Our friends and foes naively watch
her try to carve a deeper notch,
for even they don't seem to know
the depths to which she'd really go.
Upon my face a pose appears
which hides my thoughts, obscures my sneers,
for now I too have learned the rules
from her - ah, yes, the best of schools.
Because I'm acting somewhat cool,
thus pouring on her fires, fuel,
she burns and yearns and wants me more
than when I was her cuspidor.
She (unbeknownst, I'm not the same)
pursues again her guileful game.
But when her tears descend and swell,
will she be proud she taught me well?
The others leave, I stay behind
(they all know what she has in mind) ,
embrace her in my arms once more,
beguile her through her bedroom door.
She whispers secrets in my ear,
as I once did (she didn't hear);
I listen, flash some mirthless smiles,
my thoughts adrift to desert isles.
The night is passed, her trusting grows;
I leave before the morning glows.
Aroused, she'll seek a waking thrill
but find instead a dollar bill.
Categories:
obscures, love, smile,
Form:
Rhyme
With pride to boast when gnarled in vines
that seek to take as nature's own
this citadel of time will be defined
more than just letters carved in stone
Though time and tangled growth obscures
truest course of meaning now laid to rest
honor held most sacred from love endures
upon this face were such intentions prest
Proudly this guardian of life's measure stands
a post to which nothing else would ever claim
that beckons pride with hushed commands
mysteries held to know beyond just a name
Overgrown With Vines Contest
Sponsored BY Broken Wings
09/26/2016
Categories:
obscures, grave, memory, remember,
Form:
Quatrain
A curtain of rain obscures my view,
as I gaze out my window and think of you.
You've been gone for many a year,
leaving only memories for me to hold dear.
And hold them dear, I do indeed,
embracing them when I'm in need.
You see, the rain poured down on that day too,
as I gazed out the window, thinking of you.
A knock on the door and two uniformed men,
regretfully informed me of your life's end.
8/28/16
For Broken Wings Five rhyming stanzas - 5 only contest
5 couplets.
( This is fictional)
Categories:
obscures, absence, death, memory, rain,
Form:
Couplet
This happened to me twenty-two years ago. I thank God I am still alive.
I feel the ripple in my life's cycle,
impending risk that could rape my soul.
I look in the mirror, but no tears flow.
A virus cramps my shallow feelings,
an ominous glare that obscures.
The pungent smell of disinfectant
the impersonal looks of nursing aides,
the indifference of certain medics,
the fearful looks of other patients,
the smell of living death.
The surgeon comes,
examines,
prods,
feels
listens.
Like an auctioneer's hammer,
going, going, gone.
The verdict is announced,
a triple by-pass,
serious but operable.
"Don't worry, man!"
I look up at the wall
that surrounds my cell,
and see Him hung
on old worn wood.
Is it so difficult, Lord, to die?
Am I on my own in here?
Will I survive?
A tear trickles slowly down my cheek,
but now my inner self is lit.
I wake up from my stupor.
Life is a pattern,
mapped 'til our death,
but no man walks alone.
I smile,
I receive faith.
A glow illuminates my soul.
Tomorrow I may be dead,
but I am sure, Sweet Jesus,
I will survive, for meekly
I accept Your will.
Categories:
obscures, hope, how i feel,
Form:
Free verse
Quote No.1
“As you live deeper in the heart~
The mirror gets clearer and cleaner.”
_Quote by Rumi
Oh God,
You have created me
In your image and likeness-
The mirror of your love.
What do you see
When you gaze upon me?
Your image and likeness?
Or just a hazy semblance
Dulled by the sticky film that forms
On a mirror left unattended?
Your image is surely there, Lord.
Teach me, I pray,
To faithfully cleanse away that film
Which obscures the clarity of you-
Those everyday pollutants
That distorts your reflection-
So that, what you are
And what you see in me,
Are clearly, one.
Categories:
obscures, god, prayer, spiritual,
Form:
Free verse
The self-obsessive free will seemingly dormant,
envelopes the mind with an unreal veil transient,
obscures the ordained pathway God paves,
that l need to travel for it’s designed at His will.
The unseen glow of the omnipresent light
floods my possessed essence, but I don’t discern,
for I formulate life’s tenets encompassing the ego
in the ignorant realm of fantasized self-deception.
Unshackled out of the dark abyss of despair, I take
an inward journey through layers of consciousness,
perceive in the soul the radiance of divine beacon,
illumining the corridor leading to the abode of bliss.
After the ill-conceived venture the errant mind
finds the gloomy path of introspection lightened,
the secret door of the inner sanctum opens,
where suffused with divine light the lotus blooms.
When the soul shines in spiritual glow in inner space
as the unfurled petals of the consciousness flower,
in my self-searching odyssey at the edge of eternity
I perceive the grace of God within the sacred bud.
__________________
August 26, 2022
Contest : Where Is God Hiding
Sponsored by : Unseeking Seeker
Categories:
obscures, god, spiritual,
Form:
Free verse
How splendid to be fancy-free,
A perfect morn upon the sea,
Just the surf, my board and me,
And yet, a murky form ...
Obscures the water, warm.
Angled shapes there, dark and grave,
Hidden, deep inside the wave,
As I use my board to shave
Sea foam off the wake ...
A perfect turquoise break.
Sinister, and time to bide ...
Shaped for speed, with silky hide,
Churning shadows in the tide,
Patient for a chance ...
To end my wavy dance.
No way in hell that I'll bequeath
A piece of me to ragged teeth,
Of somber bulk that looms beneath,
This day is much too bright ...
To end ... in bloody fright.
Categories:
obscures, adventure, animal, ocean, sports,
Form:
Rhyme
Midst Monday bouts in work arena
knocking body with fatigue angst…
God’s victory* strengthens my faith to keep pressing on.
Though Tuesday schedule seems to fail
frustrating mind against planning zest…
The Lord revives my spirit as a warrior marching forward.
When Wednesday pursuits become futile
with routine turning toward torturous ennui…
Christ rejuvenates my soul against insistent boredom.
Trying Thursday times intensified by deadline pressure
test patience succumbing to fruitlessness’ blight…
The Saviour props my commitment for life-building endeavours.
Frustrating Friday obscures sublime vision
while carnality attacks what is divine…
Light of the Sovereign illumines my heart, seeking what’s heavenly.
Sometimes, Saturday tempts with slothfulness’ convenience
bringing guilt of worthlessness’ pangs…
Forgiving Master offers help, empowering my zeal for faithful service.
Since Sunday expectations shout sincere worship
unmasking hypocrisy, reproving skepticism and doubt…
The Holy Ghost* grips my trust, hoisting it by His grace and love.
*1Corinthians 15:57 But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
(This “busy week” has made me weary; and I thank the Lord for enabling me to make it… to be able to sing “It is no Secret What God Can Do” during our ministry live broadcast.)
July 4, 2020
1st place, "STRAND completely new (5) any theme any form" Poetry Contest Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 7/6/2020.
Categories:
obscures, blessing, christian, faith, god,
Form:
Tristich
cold drape of darkness
obscures a lost horizon
fire flies poke holes
©7/6/2018
for The Poet Doctor – HAIKU in 5 7 5 only – Poetry contest
Categories:
obscures, nature,
Form:
Haiku
Heavy heart weighs me down
Troubles the mind
Obscures clear thought
Turbulent life coexists
Within the realm of the couple
On a plain different
From where love resides
As shattered glass blocks the view
But stays in place
People, too, can be the shards
Left there to block another
Not allowing the vision
The sight of what may be
May the glass fall to the ground
Opening up the skies to those in need
Opening up the horizons
To the blind
May it not cut when falling
For with each piece
Are spoken words
Which draw blood
Leaving scars
Heavy heart weighs me down
Troubles the mind
Obscures clear thought
Categories:
obscures, angst, depression, lifeheart, heart,
Form:
Free verse
The midnight moon was full of woe
As ravens soared within its glow
Echoes of the reaper's song
Drift on dark clouds all night long
She who plays is dressed in black
and as her threnody meanders through the mist
the caw of ravens echo back,
On these the reaper does subsist
Her violin sows sorrow and despair
And reaps a river filled with tears
Her beauty belies her deadly tune
So sweet the sound to charm the moon
The thickening mist obscures the moon
Death's melody plays on, without regret
The fallen, through the fields are strewn,
And many more souls will pay their debt
--
4/6/17
Contest: The Poets Shadow
Sponsor: Greg Barden
Categories:
obscures, moon, raven,
Form:
Quatrain