Best Orphic Poems
"If you're really in love, appearances aren't important. The best house is the one you build in each other's hearts."
Jung Yu jin
Autumn's alliterations amplified an acoustic of death.
Stillness of internal instrumentals silenced my acapella.
Words like wildflowers withered in winter wickedness,
without voice or verse I vanished behind a visible veil.
I was like a lifeless crystallised burnt sienna leaf,
as bitter breaths froze my brittle soul's ink.
Fatigued fingertips trembled from numbness -
without a purpose upon a speechless stage.
Afraid of crisp crying rain, which fell like a refrain.
my summer eyes turned amaurotic.
Life resembled a blank music sheet,
among an abandoned piano covered in iced cobwebs.
In solitude my music remained unwritten,
as I slept in a shivery silent slumber - tone deaf,
finding fading apricity in stolen daylight.
Until a silvery silhouette appeared. - sparkling.
Placed my hands into her warm glove-like hands,
wrapped me in an emphatic scarf-like embrace.
Her rose gold lips echoed in Orphic tones,
reviving my somnolent mute muse.
Blessed with vibrations from her vision,
senses awoke to rhythms of her heavenly harmony -
strumming an enchanting lover's lullaby.
Were you a gift from an orchestra of operatic angels,
sent to place hymns of hallelujah deep into my heart?
As her mystical mystery began to unfold.
In union our lyrics amplified into a rhapsody of romance.
Vibrant tunes from her intimate strings composed a
seraphic serenade, as we drifted into a dream world.
Today,
as we dance under emerald velvet northern lights,
snowfall covers our paths like an ivory blanket.
Soft flakes, like pearls glisten under tinsel moonlight,
as we leave poetic footprints behind in soothing snow -
a chorus of constellations glow to the tempo of our glorious sonata.
Categories:
orphic, assonance, love, romance,
Form:
Free verse
"How to tame the madness"
As I sit here, with intense dirty desire,
Tonight I think of you (the moon and stars)
To you, I send a redolent saimiri kiss
Read and breathe between fine lewd lines
Perfumed by the colors of the Enticing Equinox
Sensually, I create sweet serendipity
Inviting playful lips
Erotic wind and wild wanderlust
Streams like a river through time
I propose a good potion of wet lube
Take me to the furtive imagination of your soul
Embrace the tan and texture tonight
Touch the summer ripples riding high
Promiscuous and delicate, I advocate lust
A quilt meant for deep and trenchant love
I shut my eyes to feel an Orphic flora floor
Stimulating a hot, sultry siren kettle
On this night the tingle of passion penetrates
A hypnotic talisman that lets me, please
Inviting ----------- You
~*~
Categories:
orphic, fantasy, love, passion, romantic,
Form:
Alliteration
“A lover asked his beloved,
Do you love yourself more than you love me?
Beloved replied, I have died to myself and I live for you.
I've disappeared from myself and my attributes,
I am present only for you.
I've forgotten all my learnings,
but from knowing you I've become a scholar.
I've lost all my strength, but from your power I am able.
I love myself...I love you.
I love you...I love myself.” Rumi.
When you cry,
I wish I was those tears,
rolling down your cheeks,
dripping upon your strawberry lips.
I yearn to reflect like rainbow dust,
so you mirror like a confetti mosaic.
But in the duration of distance,
I walk barefoot upon a path of
dead roses, whose thorns are
covered in crimson drops.
In between the phases of pearls
and eternal embers in our sky,
I cannot sleep when you remain awake.
Afraid the moon will steal our dreams.
Time is an impatient muse,
but my adoration is timeless.
If only we could pause
and move in slow motion.
With the humility of Rumi.
My words are a colourless chore,
my mind a moth-eaten blank canvas,
but when you appear before me -
I'm a poetic waterfall of ivory ink.
In periwinkle petal phases
of personification, place my
choral carnation blossoms
in chronological chapters -
inside the personal memoirs
of your porcelain soul.
We are fragile figments,
but our serenade is not a fable,
so I keep writing orphic poems,
portraying your innocence and honesty
through an opulent sonnet,
reflecting your moonlight majesty.
Revealing desires of an enkindled heart.
If prose is too simple,
I'll create you a mausoleum of metaphors,
so when silence suppresses my speech,
my arrows of alliteration
will protect you until your last verse.
Before my last breath,
I may not create a perfect masterpiece.
So I wonder if my words will be worthy
or will you forget me
like the others who wrote before me?
In your analogies of abandonment,
I am a pristine scarf in your suitcase.
When I surrender to time,
will you wrap me around your skin,
until the end?
Categories:
orphic, love,
Form:
Free verse
I dream poetry;
I breathe poetry, for poetry
calls your name, feeling your
inerrant essentia—
your soul bleeds into mine—
a collision of cosmos,
diffused magnetically, once
a vagrant in a haze of miasmic
vapors—wildered and exposed—
you unshackled me from
this purgatory;
inversely immersing me in
your sphere of solace, and
blooming artistry,
lulling the vast polarities
splintering each layer of my veracity.
I dream poetry,
for your love drizzles
burgeoning constellations, amid
rosette sepals galvanizing my
orphic nuclei, with
every spark we sigh,
tethered to the infinite composition
of our unwavering love compellingly,
beyond heaven and earth,
devoted to you—
your fallen star; no longer silent, circling
nocturne arias entwining our destiny.
Categories:
orphic, love,
Form:
Free verse
Since childhood,
as alexithymia struck my soul.
I kept all my hopes a secret,
hidden in a bucket of unshared dreams.
I kept my soul sweet like marshmallows,
but life has finally caught up with me,
Like a fast car overtaking recklessly,
leaving me behind in the slow lane -
and I'm running out of fuel.
I'm a vehicle of flashbacks from flashlights,
fatigued from embracing the old,
preparing for freshly brewed emotions.
Yet they deprive me at every dawn,
as new beginnings are always challenging.
Suffocating in this silent selcouth slumber,
life tries to call my bluff, when it knows,
I am the master of my masquerade.
My soul pleads with fate to usher me with belief,
but I can see death at my doorstep,
creating intrusive insecurities like termites,
eating away at branches of my sanity,
feeding upon my ordained Orphic glory.
Emotions are an interior mechanism,
so many remain fooled by my exterior,
but I'm tired of searching for salvation.
You who claim to love me,
gift me a scented candle made with your hands,
so its sentimental scent can bring me peace.
Take me to a place without a name,
without a label,
without judgment -
without suffering.
Unchain me from jeapordising January jitters.
Free me from meandering in misty meadows,
which have misplaced me in foggy morning sunshine -
bring me clarity.
These are not random thoughts, random poems,
because my ink is tired from trying to find new metaphors,
to supplement an abundance of alliterations,
portraying humble happy horizons.
Love can be a false emotion,
when we yearn for reciprocal ravishing redamancy,
but when was love ever equal or even fair?
I have no resolutions, just to breathe with ease.
Sometimes love's presence made me feel aesthetic,
but sometimes a badly drawn self portrait.
You can stay or leave, but do come back,
hold on, but not too tight that it chains my wings.
When I ascend, please, miss me,
so my spirit flies back to you.
Can you not see the irony?
We accumulate many reasons to die,
but search for only one reason to live.
Ask yourself which oxymoron are you?
Dying to live or living to die?
*Alexithymia
A person's inability to recognise or describe ones own emotions
* Redamancy
a love returned in full; an act of loving the one who loves you; the act of loving in return
Categories:
orphic, analogy, emotions, life, perspective,
Form:
Free verse
~~~~~ ^-^ *-* ~~~~~
Manoeuvring through purplish cerulean azure
'Til she touched the empyrean Zion
Perching above the whinstone during cockcrow
Possessing allured ala lined with grandiosity
Dressed like a virgin woman from heaven
Divine messenger? A cherub?
" NO! " - An Orphic pixie
Cradling the scintillation with her left mitt
Intent - coveting for self-innovation
Reflection seems so distant from bliss and poise
Apathy, twinges of regrets and pieces of sorrow- ECHOED
Yeah! Mystic frolicsome otherworldly wight
Wishing to be a HUMAN
Human - not a perfect being but ready to CHANGE!
Fairy be a woman...
~~~~~ ^-^ *-* ~~~~~
Categories:
orphic, fantasy, mystery
Form:
Free verse
A world enchanted with blue and green
Secrets that are untold by human eyes
A place where some relics can never be found
Soft voices flowing through an Orphic world
Moving along great ocean currents
The song of a dolphin that never ends
Creatures of amity and peace
Eyes that show only perfect love and care
Love deeper than any known ocean
A spirit that lives in all tranquility
Sharing their love with a peaceful song
Tenderness of creatures so gentle
That it can never be forsaken
Like dream of dolphins sleeping
In a world enclosed by water
Nalanti Goosen©2012
All rights reserved
Categories:
orphic, animals, nature, sea, world,
Form:
Free verse
Shadows orphic and dark, verily bound;
Have feeling half in and half out of life.
Ghostly whispers; I hark as they resound.
Eerie epitaph of a dim twilife:
Noble savage surely slain by these beasts.
The demon within is all that remains.
Disaccord greater than famine and feast.
Society's hand; now holding the reins.
Precious morality being suppressed;
as if it's something truly criminal.
You fail to see when you're being addressed;
a peril cruelly political.
From within shadows I seek to confront.
Society's nature; the beast I Hunt....
Categories:
orphic, culture, society,
Form:
Sonnet
Orphic consecration, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s Dédicade d’Orphée by T. Wignesan
Here am I back from the other dubious bank
where Orpheus’s abandonned lyre laments
the wind down there fills my veins dizzy drunk
and my redoubled hangover numbs my senses.
After having used up my human resemblance
mauve moons of Hell have gotten me in a spin
My eyes ? two diamonds of winter or two fountains
which stare at an immutable sun and remain frozen.
Similar tree springing deep roots, blind to murmurs
shakes in its sleep nocturnal verdures
where defunct suns ripen forgotten :
Very same tree that by day the light violates
bereft of foliage, bereft of birds, clawing at clouds
curses summer with its huge arms anathème.
(from the collection Sodome, O.C. t. I, p. 253)
Note : Sonnet’s original rhyme scheme :
abab, abab ccb, ccb
© T. Wignesan – Paris, October 6, 2014
Categories:
orphic, dedication, devotion, imagery, inspiration,
Form:
Sonnet
The Battle
Spiritual Warfare- Light vs. darkness. A dramatic collision.
Don't be ignorant of the assailant schemes, venom and cleverness. Cling close to the Lord. Escape detection. Playing churchy is not good enough.
Painful surgery only answers deep needs. Potent truths. Conquering dingy, gloomy deceit. Hurled into the sunless pit. For the victory, glory and honor belong to the Lord for ever and ever! Shhhhhh.....Be confident and know. Rest in God's sovereignty. Absorb the Orphic realms of the spirit. Holistic wisdom breathes righteous character. Root awakening. Don't waste your pain. Envy and strive are worthless. Maturity comes with a price! So be of good cheer. The world has already been conquered. The mustard seed does it's job. JUST BELIEVE!
Categories:
orphic, bible,
Form:
Free verse
I know you craved for a poem
but there is a bigger problem:
I am stuck with the word seven
rhyming with the word heaven.
Maybe, from the spring I drank
merely poured verses in blank,
but no, an orphic power compels
and the poem flees and rebels.
So this is the best gift I have,
perhaps gray like a cold grave.
You may even claim it is fine
but I will not write a new line,
until my muse arouse again
and poesy is set to entertain.
Categories:
orphic, humorous, muse, poetry, poets,
Form:
Sonnet
(Dedicated To Submariners All Over The World)
Dived deep in the bowels of the seas
My steely shell’s a womb.
Deep down amidst the oil and grease
I am at peace in the Lovecraftian tomb!
What’s with the antonyms, you may ask?
Two opposite words you’ve used -
One’s a warm and wonderful cask,
The other’s dead and worm-abused.
The words are apt, as you’ll soon realize,
For a sub’s a Faustian hell
Where the soul imperceptibly dies
A place where sub-human’s dwell!
Dimmed lights cast a sepulchral gloom,
Myriad machines sing Orphic songs
Of palpable peril and impending doom;
Each one of us a Houri’s groom!
To us’s denied the kiss of the sun,
Not for us the fresh blown breeze,
We know not when the day’s begun,
Nor when the night’s a-freeze!
Up periscopes and down again
The klaxons’ strident screams
Make us jump from where we’ve lain
To drilled duties in well-oiled teams.
The sighting of a laggard prey,
Spells sure a petard blown,
For a homing submarine fish tail spray
Brings terror to hardened men and grown.
Though through silent prowls of the deep we hunt,
Like coin could be our fate.
Our shell could crack with the depth charge brunt;
With Davy Jones we’d have our date!
But when heightened pulse and throbbing heart
Have ceased their labours wild,
Routine sets in and all is “back to start”
Each one an unborn child.
The sub becomes a womb, you see,
A place where your thoughts get sorted;
An amniotic envelope, safe and cozy,
With fair chance to get aborted!
So I hope now that my ditty’s run its course
The message’s plain and grim
That life and death share the same source -
For a submariner womb and tomb are synonym!
Categories:
orphic, allegory, courage, gothic, imagery,
Form:
Rhyme
Matriarch of the Serengeti
With Brontide rumbling she guides the family
puffing dust onto dry cracked skin
Gracefully she carries herself, swaying to the music of dancing plain grasses
petrichor rising from the earth brings relief
Amaranthine beauties plod along a well worn path
Drumming out an ancient beat with legs big and strong
like the trunk of the strangle fig
their pace tell of a thirst soon to be quenched
Ghosts of mist start to curl and wisp, soothing sandpaper skin
which turns from brown to grey
She smells the living rains, her trunk moving this way and that way
grasping high into the Acacia, tasting the young succulent leaves
before the return of an Icterine fall
Unsuspecting, she moves towards the watering hole for a bath
a long overdue gathering, night time and death
Her orphic aura is gone with the wind of bullets
that pass through her leather like skin and Serengeti night
Wise mother takes with her, repositories of knowledge and wisdom
now lost forever to her offspring
Sonorous cries fill the plains, mans entertainment making sure
she will neither hear their calls nor answer back
ever again
Her majestic tusks will soon be playing Bach in a New York school
& eight ball in a corner pocket
PICTURE 2
Categories:
orphic, africa, death, farewell, loss,
Form:
Free verse
*Image of Abstract, Yellow, Fireflies provided by Pixabay.
Aliferous Light
Fireflies glint yon verdures lush blades
in their trancelike swells midst farmlands
stilled beasts ... surreal stars charades
shadowy realm lone moon commands.
Zephyrs thrust e'er more, rousing whole
fireflies glint yon verdures lush blades
deign wrenched ... ethereal control
neath nascent twilight's hazy shades.
Winged beacons currents dusk evades
dreamlike bugs e'er so oft lithe frames,
fireflies glint yon verdures lush blades
where breeds unreal orphic claims.
Languor beetle's their temporal flights
... imaginary thoughts cascades
prompts a fond adieu, dimming lights,
fireflies glint yon verdures lush blades.
2021 May 30
*3rd Place*
Writing Prompt - Dreamlike
~~Constance La France: Judged 2021 June 02
Categories:
orphic, fire, flying, insect,
Form:
Quatern
The sounds of words can shake the skies
or cut an ego down to size,
when knowing sages have their say
of fitting words to seize the day,
conveying wisdom from the wise.
An avid versifier tries
through orphic craft to harmonize
with sense and lyric overlay
the sounds of words.
From inner cosmos may arise
the wordless visions word defies
that seek to find a worded way
with synesthetic interplay,
and thus in poem crystallize
the sounds of words.
~ Harley White
Categories:
orphic, creation, devotion, imagination, poetry,
Form:
Rondeau