Best Outpour Poems
in the fervour of my sweat
sheets drenched
i wake to the toxic bellow of my own voice
in the torment of my own thoughts
in the complexity of my simple life
i lay eyes swollen wide open
in the measure of hours set aside for sleep
overwhelmed by recent events
i struggle with the haunting of their potential outcome
in the exaggeration of my emotional outpour i bleed tears
dry to the air of the night
i shrivel like a plum under light
so this is what it is like
to be a prey to grief
an abhorrent internal pain
i forget its feel when it is gone
i remember its feed when it is here
bent
out of sorts
barely able to walk
i return to the inferno of my now
quiet
i keep my affliction private and unassuming
Feb 28 2016
armand
Blessed in abundance that manifests in our
stressed daily interaction with our fellow man, and the sincerest
form of our inner wellbeing is the outpour of laughter.
Dormant in the face of adversity, while we empathise with
modern populace at large and try to bring some
modicum of humanity and relief of the pain.
We’d all experience this from time to time and this is
seed of essence in our reality that is forever fraught.
Felled by ulterior motives – punished like Sisyphus by our
fellow peers – as the dulcet tones of compliments, the sweetest
wrung encouragement that soothed our souls like songs
sung at our cradle; the melodies now forgotten. They are
symbols indelibly edged into our subconscious and those
cymbals that tend to want to drown us out so that
we spin in the vortex, but vector us towards the stories to tell.
Be it to explain the tumultuous emotions raging beneath the surface of
our designer exterior – this is by far the saddest
hour and we, eventually, rather opt for the dilatory thought.
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Percy Bysshe Shelly – To a Skylark
Oh, the agony of love!
It takes courage to give your heart away
Knowing feelings might not be reciprocated
Tortured souls keep others at bay
For fear of being hurt
Don’t know if I’ll ever love another
Oh, the agony of love!
Why must every spark smother?
Oh, the envy of love!
See the happy couples hand-in-hand
Jealousy is overwhelming
For one whose heart is trapped in a can
Seeking to break out
Oh, the envy of love!
Is there no end to this loveless drought?
Oh, the fickleness of love!
He pledged his devotion
Captured my heart
And now he shows no emotion
His feelings wax and wane like the moon
Oh, the fickleness of love!
Is there a way to make hearts immune?
Oh, the tempting quality of love!
Remembering days when my heart would soar
Wonder if I should take a second chance
And allow my feelings to outpour
Permit my heart to be whisked
Oh, the tempting quality of love!
Is it worth taking another risk?
Oh, the splendor of love!
The joy in my spirit has just begun
And I feel sure we’ll reach the stars
As he and I merge into one
So happy I finally took the chance
Oh, the splendor of love!
Why didn’t I see this in advance?
*Entry for Paula's "Beseech" contest
Written: February: 06, 2024
___________________________________________
Peaceful solitude,
letting exit of daily routine,
surrender to peace,
deep breathing calms the spirit,
relax tight muscles,
exhaling painlessly,
away from extraneous impacts,
falling into happiness.
Our palms are extended,
only a few inches away,
approach the
shrouded sanctum,
excitedly expecting,
the lavish outpour,
with the cherubs,
leap forward,
our contaminated chalice,
we shed transgressions,
slithering veneer,
digging for who we are,
out of the covetous quagmire.
Gradually into an ecstatic reverie,
where time and space are muffled,
mental symphony, being level and quiet,
quietness says volumes,
rich and calming,
controlling all noises,
who enters my head?
stillness grows inside,
permeating every bodily fiber,
magically interacting within,
so aged things may be rejuvenated,
a baffling land that hides delight,
swaying daisy petals and soft skin,
circles of cutlery.
Colorful smells scent them
pasted text paralysis,
capture lovely theaters,
subtle care cracks,
juxtaposed with colors and rich smells,
falling and reveling.
I am a waterfall , cascading , descending , trickling down
all over your sunkissed shoulders , and a hundred bare thoughts .
Smell me , A delicate fragrance like that of drying cotton linen
perched on the line of an early Spring morn.
Hear me .Listen to my swish-swoosh sound
a distant echo of a babbling brook within your silence.
Taste me . Quench your thirst from the smooth outpour of my waters.
Have me . Have all I own , rippled palettes where I stirred
crimsons , whites and blues , to give you lilacs .
Moist velvet lilacs that tickle softly along your back ,
between your toes ,against the arms of your resistance.
Feel me, feel my fresh gushes extinguish embers
which burned too quick your camping hammock
and ripped you off a million candle dreams.
Let me be . Let me become the bed of promise in your lone night.
Let me stay . I'll stay , I sway and play. Like a mandarin's lullaby ,
I'll rock you slowly into sleep beneath a canopy of forest trees.
I am the waterfall , where once in yesterday your fingers tossed
the last of of coins , with atheistic need.
Here on the edge , I'm waiting for you , to grant your wish and your release.
Till you return I keep on falling , flowing down freely from mountain creeks.
Unorthodox, this water- bearer rules,
an Aquarian god moody yet calm in the
face of persistent winds…his pail of wine
gushing on mouths of February streams,
like an outpour into first night’s cycle
of unpredictable moves, reigning like
a prince-in-waiting, this heir
from brazen garnet stars:
Oh, his vision is light years ahead of time;
breaking from clasps of tradition,
his maverick streaks defy life's norms
and while he dives into a crest of independence,
fool he is for needing warmth and affection.
Yet,a blend of hermit's pride and gentleness
dares the element of air to brew a storm,
then romances the lusty sea of love in a flash...
pray tell, how can one define a mystery?
------------
Brian Strand's Contest No 214
You were loved once
just because
but in defiance of your lot
perhaps in spite
learned to dance, love again
Think it's hidden
in diamond's luster
or hereafter
not all the smiles
nor outpour of laughter
Educated, ready to reach
the brass ring's test
understanding even less
of life's best
Trade in yesterday for
sister's and brother's
just a taste
of tomorrow's forevers
never promised, nor bothered
I'll never tell you it's so
if you want or don't
who'd think I could ever know
when you will or won't?
Never can be too sure
if anything will last
channel'd from someone or
something
remains from ages past
Run faster hoping time will never
catch up, to all this
ask you to pay amends
for moments chastened
now missed
Try to catch the wind
sleeping
best to practice touching..
keeping
No, you won't remember hard times
if it were up to me
staring into a lion's eyes,
from where you came
on the way to where you'll be
Return to doctor's orders
hold on to praise won
pray all turns right
before the ending' sun
Ten's beauty is half as such
twelve is way too much
make due with that special
someone
just because
There I go…watching a young girl across my garden,
her body language exposing both pleasure and piety—
soil roots tended with naturalness amidst soft gust…
Like so, she mirrors this eleven-year- old within,
curious though kind with an appetite for daring
the unknown: But I’m not prepared to replay this game—
I mean, a comeback of my innocence when nights
barrage a mind with past transgressions still in need
of hubris’ final release …totally unforgiving,
an inner critic seethes from unresolved anger.
This jovial angel is not me.
My pissed off womanhood soaks in an outpour
where catharsis escapes me,
unless I embrace battles won lost humbly :
I am not there yet.
O that little girl by the garden and my eleven-year
old self vanish that I am left alone
to bear new flowers , their tender plea…my choice.
---------
5/03/2019
A John lawless Contest: The Crap Shoot Poetry
I'm not a wild flower
I'm not a hillside meadow,
I'm nothing more than
dormant grass hiding
in a rocky mountain's shadow.
Lifeless at the edges,
Evergreen turned brown,
stepped upon by footsteps
from the villian of the town.
The summer is too long
The summer is too dry,
Where is the green keeper
Where are the grazing pastures
Where is the early red flamed sky?
Come to me
Sweet first October rain
Come to me
with spuming bubbles of champagne,
Sprinkle softly against my ear,
every lettter of your name.
Come to me,
Give me back the sparkle,
Cover me with glitter,
Do not let me die!
Do not let me wither!
Bring me back to life,
Wash me over with your
musky and earthy smell,
Wrap me in a blanket
of fluffed polar silver pearl.
Come to me
Sweet first October rain,
Let me bathe in gentle waters,
Let me soak,let me grow stronger,
in the outpour of your claim.
I'm not a wild flower
I'm not a hillside meadow
I am nothing more
than dormant grass hiding
in a mountain's shadow.
Come to me
Sweet first October rain,
Splash me green and greener,
Drizzle fresh drops on my pain.
Come to me
Sweet first October rain
Come to me
with spuming bubbles of champagne,
Sprinkle softly against my ear
every letter of my name.
Touched by a moonbeam
Touched by a moonbeam with you I glide
I can now drink from a well of stars
staring out at this night’s friendly guide
my spirit knows no more bounds.
Touched by a moonbeam with you I glide
your warm glow melts away my core
drying up all tears in its outpour
in your orbit I am now released;
your presence pacifies my fears
ripples back the years
as my eyes search your face
by this secret light,
the light of the moon.
Touched by a moonbeam
with you I glide
swiftly on this path of elation
I crave your affection.
Dawn its gift of light I bid delay
a blissful encore I’m asking your way
for a touch of eternity in your embrace
I felt dear moon, dear friend,
I’m touched by your graceful ballet
the waning of your rays
I beg you to stay, beg you to stay.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
(orchestral part with soaring music)
Touched by a moonbeam
with you I glide
swiftly on this path of elation
I crave your affection.
Dawn its gift of light I bid delay,
a blissful encore I’m asking your way
for a touch of eternity in your embrace
I felt dear moon, dear friend,
I’m touched by your graceful ballet
the waning of your rays I beg you to stay,
beg you to stay, beg you to stay,
for a touch of eternity in your embrace
I felt dear moon, dear friend
I’m touched by your graceful ballet,
the waning of your rays
I beg you to stay
beg you to stay.
note: Dear reader, I beg you to try and slow down your reading so that you can match the pace of the reading to the music. (I have tried to match my lines to form a lyrical piece. ?)
The composer, by the way, is Brian Crain.
If loving you is wrong
I don't ever want to right.
If loving you is a sin
I outrightly reject righteousness.
If loving you is disobedience
I give in to mutiny.
If loving you is folly
I swear I detest Solomon.
If loving you is madness
I deny not my state of lunacy.
If loving you is an error
I want to keep this mistake.
If loving you is death
I am a living dead person.
But if loving you is life,means life
Believe me...
The state of my heart,
This outpour of my emotions,
The lovely looks in your eyes
And this ranging fire in our hearts
Was written in the stars... .
Raindrops always fall each time you come around.
Dark clouds hang above us no matter what we do,
but each time we discover a little common ground
stinging raindrops fall from a sky no longer blue.
Behind closed doors, my outpour of tears fall.
Pulling the curtain aside, I watch as you walk away
rain streaking the window pane, it's your name I call.
Life resembles a dream, one that's turning dark gray.
Are we a phenomena causing these clashes of thunder?
We ignite like strikes of lightning bolts, and yet -
if we were to give in to our desires, pangs of plunder,
would we owe the rush of raindrops the gratitude of debt?
Things just moved too fast in what's between you and me.
It may not be love, but burning passion that sweeps us away.
Maybe it was just a childhood dream... never meant to be.
Do we risk our friendship, or is it good bye we should say?
I can't face the finality, the thought of bidding you adieu.
Let's walk between raindrops even when the thunder roars.
I'm willing to take the chance of falling in love with you.
and if it's love that causes the rain, we won't care if it pours.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
A collaboration with Eve Roper ~
Eve, Thank you for sharing your charm with me.
Materialize before my eyes:
Amorphous clumps of clay
In puddles of brown broth
Walk around with empty mouths
That house ravens of despair
Silent stupidity and empty
Sockets follow blindly
A path hewn ages before
They even existed in weary
Acceptance of fate unavoidable.
And I follow slowly;
Crawl on elbows;
Claw with hands that grab
Mud as a last rope
To pull me away from
Emptiness shown on
Their faces while they step over
Me in strange indifference
To continue their way
My head rests on hands
slick and silt with tears
spilt for their mute life
where words have no
weight but what is put
in one outpour of grief
They say from darkest soil
Lightest flowers grow
Salty water sprinkles
Where my knees touch
My lips softly kiss
Lovingly, in hope.
***
March 11, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
Like A Dream..
Like the days in The Cradle..
Like the tale of Samson's Riddle..
In The Wake of your Fiddle..
Our Waists In Consortium..Like Beaded
Eroticas Wiggling..
Like A Dream..
Our Stroll Hand-In-Hand By The Beach..
Like Heights We have Reached..
Like The Sweetness Of Depths Unsearched..
Like This Pen I Screech..
Like Those Verses Of Wisdom We Thus
Preached..
Like A Dream..
Like The Wisdom Of Great King Solomon We
asked the Father For, In Tones that
"Beseech"..
With His Divine Wisdom and Grace We
Revolutionized Souls That Once Thought and
Acted As Leeches..
The Weight and Comeliness Of These Lines you
Call Speeches..
Like A Dream..
Like God's Kiss On Our ForeHead..
Like His Comforting Voice In Times Of Sorrow
and Distress..
Like The Outpour Of His Salient Breathe On
Our Humble Souls..that Guided Us to The
Crest,
Like A Dream..Hardwork and Its Little
Stress..
Like A Dream..In Luxury Prepare to Take Thy
Rest..
To Listen To The Voices Of My Childrens'
Playful Shouts and Screams..To Dance This
Dreamy Waltz What Shall It Take..To Show Our
Gratitude To The Almighty Please Tell Us
'What Shall We Shake'..
Like A Dream..
Like The Flavour Of These Rhymes..
Like The Heart-Felt Savour Of These Cleverly Structured Lines..
The Happy Ardour Of Such Salient Chimes..
Thus Read..What Joy We Thus Feel In It We Sublime..
Sweet Rhymes Thus Played On Musical Strings Of Time..How Happy..
Thus Life Is But A Dream..See Through.
Encased in ice and frozen
So the world could not break through,
The beating of my bitter heart
Soon faint and thoughtless grew,
And from this frigid, frosty state
A life of snow was born,
So followed through my days was I
By my defence's spawn,
This snowman bore down on me,
Soon becoming my excuse
To withdraw from society,
A self-confessed recluse,
Every day I'd see him there and
He would stand in front of me,
A reminder of my shame and
Self-inflicted misery,
Nobody new could I let in
When chances came about,
For the snowman blocked their entrance
And forever shut them out,
So this fashion continued and
The years passed in a haze,
I was convinced this chill would stay
To curse me for all my days.
Then one day I saw the sunlight
Through the bolted window pane;
Suddenly I heard a cracking sound
And I was once more sane.
Gasping, I clasped my icy heart
Which had begun to thaw
And I collapsed, my mind starting to spin
Before emotions rushed to outpour,
Then the snowman's fury caught me
But I had now begun to weep
And the creature howled and fell,
Keeled over into a heap,
So hot tears came running forth
As I let them fall, and knelt
Over my silent snowman
Who gradually began to melt.
On and on I cried until at last
I had no more tears,
So I stood up and waded out of
The pool of all my fears.
As time went by the pool grew smaller
Until the water cleared,
Then my heart was warm as all
The frozen fright had disappeared.
Now my door is always open
To the good times and the bad,
And my heart holds no more frost or snow
For a creature to be clad.