Best Occluded Poems
OMENS
O’er wintry land bare trees now sway
On wing above, black birds traverse
Occluded skies of baleful grey
Outspreading wings imparting curse
Yet outcomes told by prescient sense
With omens of dark consequence
May be belied restoring sight
Of hope; see yon horizon bright
[Poem in 8x8 form]
Submitted to:-
Contest: Unrest of Spirit
Sponsor: Julia Ward
22 November 2018
Written: January 16, 2024
_______________________________________
Always strive to trust your heart
With everything you do,
Don't be afraid of what others may believe.
Comply with your heart—it speaks best
Always follow your instincts,
And what offers you delight?
Strive to constantly preserve your heart
An outcome of vagueness,
Easily occluded by shadows.
If I could, I would save the whole world
My arms would wrap the globe,
Cease sorrow, grief, and sadness to avert chaos.
To bear a raw life for all
To ease all tears of grief and all anguish,
It would forever be gone.
I'm only a dreamer; I can't even save my heart
but I would embrace the world if I could,
With heartfelt affection for all.
OMEN
O’er wintry land bare trees now sway
On wing above, black birds traverse
Occluded skies of baleful grey
Outspreading wings impart a curse
Omen of darkest consequence
Outcomes perceived by prescient sense
Oppress the spirit, damn the day
There was a possibility of snow.
I looked out on a chilly white scene,
reflecting that extremes of weather are
matched by extremes of political fronts.
The season hangs its head
under a burden.
Out for a walk with 'Duke', I ducked
under snow-laden branches,
but it was the beast of a snowplough
that threw it at me – down my neck.
Is other traffic struggling
to get to where?
This morning the world feels very different.
We are searching to find where we are
as a big Trump of the white stuff
is flung at us. On the way to the White House
an occluded front is forecast.
So what to put on?
It hurts to be excluded
Even if you're feeling mixed
'Bout the venue that's reputed
To be one some people nixed.
For at least if you're included
You know someone seems to care
And it's not like you've intruded;
You're encouraged to be there.
Often motives are occluded
So conclusions may be reached,
But you're likely not deluded
When a courtesy is breached.
VERSE I
she brushed across my shoulders
the bedroom light broke
a breasted scimitar—dancing thoracic throat
what I once outran—now presses my lips
she carried no black-wing omen
yet every breath drew near
purple velvet summons
Murdering me with Cashmere.
PRE-CHORUS I
kiss drawn, the walls slant inward
and rouge, the dark-root took shape—
as if her inborne blackwork
could make the night a colourless drape.
CHORUS I
Murdering me with Cashmere
tugging at my countless heartbeats
stripping me down to bare nerve
Murdering me with Cashmere
touch that lifted a ceiling curve
a birthright that denied me standing
VERSE II
the air lost a beat near her
piano shuttered its strings
her keratin ruled its hidden kingdoms
where songs outlived clipped-wings
one quick brush of softness
could tilt the atmosphere—
an unquestionable sovereign reign
Murdering me with Cashmere.
PRE-CHORUS II
marrow-sapped, my bones bleached white
and oooh, my will to power grew thin
her presence pressed antique velour
against my browning-paper skin
a blue-litracution mocked my manly core
CHORUS II
Murdering me with Cashmere
negating my defenses
melting my deep fear
Murdering me—only Cashmere
mist that would not recede
a spell that outlasted me
BRIDGE
she stood there—the verdict given
queen without a crown
her secrets a crashing thunder
hinged to pin me down
and I—
climbed, she was higher
and her hemlock closed in—too near
I fell into her ghast-lit shadow
Murdered soft by Cashmere.
FINAL CHORUS
Murdering me with Cashmere
kindness with a strangler’s grip
a calm that finished the work
Murdering me in Cashmere
queen in vestment of highness—
Lady Caledonia Blue— cyanotic.
OUTRO
she brushed across my shoulders
the world skipped a breath to grieve
softness that occluded on my lungs and stayed
refused to let me leave
her after-mint lodged in my vertebral mind
thorn in every flowing tear—
the night she claimed my arrhythmic heartbeat
Murdering me with Cashmere.
Once upon a time, in a town not far from here,
on a day that was not bright, on a day that was not clear,
a boy was born, and the newspaper would say,
"It was a partly cloudy day."
Everybody said, "What an odd little feller".
So, one day, his mother took him to the fortune teller,
but she only said as she drew up her shawl,
"Suddenly, I have a partly cloudy ball."
He met her in the morning, early in the Spring,
and by and by, offered her a diamond ring,
but true love once more eluded -
the gem he gave was cloudy and occluded.
His heart was not broken. It just had a little crack.
He sighed and went home early. Then he hit the sack.
He didn't shed a tear or even cry -
he just blinked upon each partly cloudy eye.
In his head, he puzzled as he lay awake,
but life to him seemed hopelessly opaque,
and his confusion would enshroud
a mind partially covered by a cloud.
The years, one by one, eventually passed
by the bloke known for nothing but being overcast.
I'm sad to report that he died just yesterday.
The paper said, "It was a partly cloudy day".
Catch that love
When it glides gleefully like a rock dove
Doesn't it cover the desolate abyss
Or gives love to see our bliss?
It speaks, greatest of speakers
Words that beacon ingenuity to goal seekers
Healing wounds of gloom and torture
Conjuring messages that plant upright posture
From where is a song of poignancy to heart?
Lyrics the devotional river that wash dirt
The inviolable tones whispered in souls
From whose tear-jerking lines a memory strolls
Ain't it the tranquil shade to weary spirit?
Deep firm root, we relish gaily in it
Its fruits ripen against the cruel sun
And whose sweetness we enjoy with fun
'Tis the river whose waters douse for our thirst
With springs that fuse fissures to close bursts
To the parched land t'give abiding solution
And the souls' ride it flows to destination
Like a star, 'tis brightest in dark moment
In occluded dark burrow it lights for movement
Sequin-silvery light glistening hearts with hope
And by it darkened eyes see beyond scope
apologies to E. H.
"Blow, blow, ye western wind... Christ, that my love were
in my arms and in my bed again"
Once she hated it, like Hemingway's Catherine
hated rain, (I see myself dead in it). Now, she sits
in solitude at the gentle offspring that sidles,
nay, croons, around the corners of a porch. Quietude
is in its whispered wisdom, filtering insight
into occluded childhood: Northeast ogre storms that
belted the beach, blew stinging sheets of sand,
formed salt-spit scum onto bedroom windows
to blind a child who sought clarity.
Now, in lieu of sea oats, a crepe myrtle blooms
full-out. Skeletal in winter is an asymmetry she
loved, as in Ernest's "stark black sculptures"
of winter trees on walks in his Paris neighborhood,
but the blossoming myrtle lifts an abandoned nest,
its purpose a 'fait accompli", the babies flown
like her own. Beach lore did not prepare for how
spring would bring empurpled flowering cones, leafy
branches returning the beauty, the familiar music
of birthing, here, in the eighty-first summer
of her life. "Eighty-one," asks the wind?
"It's just a number..."
The myrtle undulates, rustles, speaks
of passages with leaf-language that needs
no interpreter. An assurance
of long lifetimes. Fastened as they are,
they can bend and sway, giving signs
of grace that say, we can change,
We can change
All is written by the same hand;
Our God is the same God,
Who is everything,
Who is nothing.
Jesus and Buddha sought the same thing;
All major religions are the same
But different cultural aspects
Make descriptions that are hard to cling.
I may be crazy,
But I believe God has been trying to contact me of late;
It is all in MY cards along with our imminent fate.
God is not so special,
But there is some message
I was supposed to decode and know;
The message is occluded
Like footprints after the new fallen snow.
The message still eludes me
As the voice gets more and more clear;
The voice makes me stronger
And reminds me I have nothing to fear.
It's meandering on the edge
Of Bob Marley's One Love
But that’s just the tip of the iceberg,
The fingertips in the glove.
"One mind there is,
But under it two principals contend."
Light or dark, good or bad,
We choose to commend or offend.
You make it up as you go;
Reality is a mold of what is real;
It's all in your head;
You are mistaken what you feel.
Lao Tzu, Confucius and Elijah,
Moses, Krishna and Mohammed,
Were transistors from One Heaven,
Visionaries of what the world could be,
Interested in one main task,
setting the soul free,
As God whispers lightly in my ear,
"There is no you...there is only me."
-Joseph DeMarco
Into the snow white castle only tepid feet bound
Head mirror of quilted bed reflects a glimmering compound
Satin blanket spreads over each frozen mound
A blinding glare from the silted bed doth rebound
With each heavy step mist arises from fluffed goose down
Arching o'er head a crystalline canopy doth crown
The hooded frames as glowing sentinels ballast ground
The woody rails in their icy coat of arms surround
As tempest blows, crackling arms in groaning chorus resound
From portholes beaming, frozen pellets wayfarers confound
Alighting from pillowy perches, Red-shouldered hawks with wings unwound
Strafe the bystanders; with their prickly dander doth hound
A fibrous parapet of occluded, twining roots shields ground
Each truant sole straying from the beaten path will impound
Buried stumps as pulpy landmines on periphery abound
The errant, plodding heel with shocking pain to redound
Pace must quicken in the late afternoon stound
Dusk's chilling tides o'er snowy copse leaves laggards spellbound
As the last rays of light funnel into
the background
Enchanting visions of woodland nymphs mind's eye doth astound
Incongruent realities thru timeless mist,
Pursuant pleasures are truly missed…
Forever looking within horizons lost,
Endeavor endless of loves tossed…
Hearts broken between blackened veils,
Parts shattered leaving lachrymal trails…
Secluded symphonies were quietly playing,
Occluded occupants of sacrificial slaying…
Time displacing illusions of distant dreams,
Sublime seductions descending moonbeams…
Desires disrupted by Venus of tugs pulling,
Fires frozen exposing Neptune’s overruling…
Aligning planets selfish serving of masters,
Confining sorrows of deceiving disasters…
Quarantine in consciousness amongst dunes,
Foreseen futures falling on matriarchal moons.
...reversed
Mist timeless thru realities incongruent,
Missed truly are pleasures pursuant…
Lost horizons within looking forever,
Tossed loves of endless endeavor…
Veils blackened between broken hearts,
Trails lachrymal leaving shattered parts…
Playing quietly were symphonies secluded,
Slaying sacrificial of occupants occluded…
Dreams distant of illusions displacing time,
Moonbeams descending seductions sublime…
Pulling tugs of Venus by disrupted desires,
Ruling over Neptune’s exposing frozen fires…
Masters of serving selfish planets aligning,
Disasters deceiving of sorrows confining…
Dunes amongst consciousness in quarantine,
Moons matriarchal on falling futures foreseen.
Nov.01.2019
Anything You Want
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Placed 4'th...Thank You
Blithe notes of Twilight's symphony alight
Into occluded abyss spindled cords take flight
Duller shades into harmonious bands unite
Grainy film spreads o'er recess a dank, dingy kite
Initiating eve's wake, ethereal blinds shut tight
Midnight's, chilling vigil stills darkened night
Nyx's, silver, pale orb mystical procession doth ignite
Twinkling pallbearers on flanks shoulder the blight
Ghostly-white planets from distant corridors observe rite
Pleiades' sisters' glowing blue embers provide candlelight
On bended knee, Perseus the glib eulogy doth recite
In the somber parlor, Orion with satin bow stalkers doth fight
Tears from Aquarius's drawn bucket salve Night's dreary plight
Mystical beams from Southern Cross emptiness doth requite
Harmony of the Spheres
Oh, you’re included; the path to
Knowing God’s occluded; this
Denouement of the movement
has been precluded in this speech;
salvation is out of reach; no storm can
fill the breach of gapping schemes and dreams—
this much I know: upon the crest of dawn; his emissary
sits in wait for you, near the coming of his love; what
signal shall he choose to summon you?
In harmony my dear one,
In time with all this fear;
For it is his notion that covers all;
From that date so long ago;
To this moment now to flow;
Let it go…
Everytime I bring up the subject
We get caught in the loop
perpetually
It is as if we are frozen in this amber forever
forced to relive the same argument
time and time again
"How could you do this to me?"
Opinions matter not
Neither does the McCarthy/Lennon credo,
"Try to see it my way,"
There is only our way
We cannot see what our eyes perceive
As the truth
We are occluded from
Third Person point of view
like a reader who can't quite
understand the vocabulary
Can't quite comprehend
"You said you loved me?"
Each step closer toward you
Pushes you further away
I tiptoe down the hall
Hearing your whisper's call
I dare not answer
Talking is a waste of my time
"So you woke up one morning
and decided you didn't love me anymore?"
The answers are only slightly more painful
The questions like a Gordian knot in my heart
Here comes the loop,
"How could you do this to me?"
We are trapped
The only way out is
to leave this place.
By: Joseph DeMarco