Best Overlapping Poems
COLORS for MOTHER,
Looking towards the blue sky
Every color camouflaged around the cloud
Tears of sadness began to dry
Watching all the colors display out loud
The dark needing to fade
The grey in my life finally made sense
Colors overlapping, forming a beautiful cascade
Shoulders of tense
I imagined your smile against the yellow sun
Giving light to all the matter of the things I've done
A warmness in my red heart-- together in the long run
Creating a new purple and pink sensation-- as one
My new rainbow doesn't come in black and white
Giving reason to follow the joy of light
A gift of colors remind me everything will be all right
A guide blazing throughout the night
Lavender plant blooming for the world to see
A garden of every color just for me
Everyday I see the sunrise, rising up in colors of glee
My Rainbow will appear everyday without rain, no matter how deep the sea
Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet, the perfect skin tan
My sweet angel your the largest spectrum where ever rainbows span
:-)
by;PD
I wrote this poem for my mom.
Rhyme
The overlapping of me and us three
Of who I was and who I turned out to be
I never ever felt I was good enough
Or tuff enough to deal with that stuff
Gentleness inside grew like a flower
by day by night hour by hour
Yet I’m not some shrinking violet
I did not could not would not cower
I allowed soft to become my superpower
No bitter bone or heart like stone
A soft voice without the sappy happy tone
Those who need me won’t be left all alone
My minds not made to be judgmental
even when others might feel anger prone
So I’m okay with me
and who you two became too
We each have our ways to be true
I’m thankful we escaped our blue
Finding our best way through
We are more than what we were
or even all the things we’ve done or do
Nothing is everything
Thankfully overlapping old ways
make way for the new.
Myself an my siblings each dealt with the trauma of our childhood in our own ways. When I was younger I had trouble accepting their different ways. Time is a lense that helps us view the past with more clarity.
the sun
low in the sky
yearns for a leap into night
as shadows squeeze their way into bedrooms
like shapeless dragons
for children
cocooned to an early bed
staging thoughts like puppet plays
on a wall terrain
of mossy caverns or whispering vines
that never merge dreams smoothly
when children imagine the huff and puff of shadows
like creatures swimming in circles
overlapping at a patchwork distance
before the painted black of night
quiets the pull of imagination
in the candy cane bend of sleep
Seijaku – 8-1-24
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Seijaku
Serenity abides with tranquility
Abiding in beauty
And deep respirations of satisfaction
Ready
Alert
Overlooking tangled mazes of overlapping obligations
Labyrinths of lists -
And atonal demands.
As the sun streaks past engorged calendars
In whirly-gigs of heavy-handed chaos
The shade of tranquility
Stretches out
Looming across the face of serendipity
With the breath of the rose
The whisper of sapphire jewels
Born from oceanic bowers.
In the shadows waits
The gift of each rubric solved
Pushing aside the tyranny of over committed -
In dawns, and Aurora’s ballet in neon slippers,
The spirit dialates,
As moonlight drips from feathery boughs,
Healed from epidemics of minutes
Swallowed by a never resting pendulum.
The poet arises, even blooms,
Ignoring the cataracts of frail dreams
When hurried footsteps and clouded hearts
Still race infected by chaotic delirium
Tripping over beauty’s outstretched boughs
To see – to notice -
To embrace
Lavender, gently waiting, with amazement.
Lo! A spectrum of colors
In the misty cerulean sky
God’s benevolent gift graciously bestowed
After a light drizzle
A rainbow- nature’s lovely poem
Written on the widest canvas
An arch spanning the Earth and the heavens
A painting with colors overlapping
An art created by the crystalline prisms
Life expands and pulsates
Eyes are raised to a vision grand
Mind takes flight to Heaven’s glory
A transient reminder of the beauty promised for man
Warm in glow, radiant in splendor, emanating light, triggering joy,
Staying amid drifting clouds, waving at us in cheer
Oh eyes, feast on this celestial sight
This scintillating spectral aura
And get drowned in its magical spell!
Hey, why not ride upon the wind
To loot the pot of gold hidden at its tip!
August. 15.2022
Re -submitted for Your Second Chance 1st Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Sotto Poet
Absolutely Anything Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Shreya.LN.
I felt the sea on my pulse,
the salt in my brunette,
pebbles underfoot,
the net dragging me.
I felt the familiar ebb and flow,
close to shore,
tippy-toes.
The coconut permeates the dawn,
its scent infiltrating,
its oils reverberating.
I feel the palms bending low,
so low I can touch
their feather fronds;
and fronts clashing.
First drops of the storm,
so tender-pitter-patter,
light thunder,
soft lightning.
Nearby volcano erupting,
you think I’m dreaming
about your lava eyes.
Beach blanket soaked,
settling into muddy sand,
its tartan, tanned
and connecting
with the waves,
overlapping.
The island’s going under -
the thunder, ecstatic;
its lightning erratic.
Surrounded by water,
a dugout
with flapping wings -
the canoe is land.
Lily pads on steroids
float upon deceptive waters -
so pretty I can touch them;
and caiman too.
All that’s ever been
resides in sandy eyes;
I’ve collected seashells
in my mind.
from three miles away
the unmistakable sounds~
of howlers chorus
a slithering snake.
crushing prey without mercy~
green anaconda
small eyed black caiman
twenty foot alligator ~
watching and waiting
waiting in the trees
unsuspecting deer walks by~
a jaguar strikes
through overlapping branches
laser beams of sunlight pierce ~
the dense canopy
worlds largest rodent
like a giant guinea pig~
capybara dives
painful insect sting
as painful as a gunshot~
the bullet ants bite
rainforest rivers
home to pods of pink mammals~
fresh water dolphins
jesus christ lizards
walking across the water~
miracles happen
hanging upside down
eating green vegetation~
slow moving sloths
native indians
rub poison on arrow tips~
from the green dart frog
a very short tail
long shaggy coat and red face~
bald vakari swings
face of a lion
now an endangered species~
lion tamarin
pygmy tribes food source
monkeys, pigs and antelope~
hunting to survive
Written 6th October 2018
The storm that is you thunders
slow and brilliant in my heart,
spliting my beliefs into bliss and blunders
tossing the limbs of my love from finished to start,
The hail sows no hate
temperatures taste extreme,
your fast weather pummels my pride's fate
the howl and moan stiffens my body's fleshy slate
with a new font spelling lust in capital sweat and gleam
as the conceit in me enjoys the torrent of your sorrow's date,
You hump me with a dying wish
placing me inside you, gently, romantically, undeniably selfish,
I fall in love with you again for the umpteenth time
and your face never grows old
shows no cold
disappears not in tragedy's confine,
overlapping my overview of life, hot and hellish
the art that is you pounces into view, the rumble I relish,
Wanting me to know what you deserve
breathing into me the smoke of your burning love,
I become love wrecked, quaking from the sting you serve
preserving everything your spirit spits and sings from above -
J.A.B.
boy and girl intermingling
blood and veins overlapping
vulnerableness
a violet's caress
lavender kombucha
passion's persona
jasmine's megaphone
harmony's tone
music's movements
sincere sentiments
amethyst's kiss
hot and cold amiss
an artist's loaded brush
a starfish's bluish blush
a fairy dusting
mountain berry ice cream
jelly doughnut filling
ripened grapes distilling
regal drape twine
an eggplant's bloodline
royalty's manners
hung Lutheran banners
a swing-seated spiritual rest
creativity compressed
a poet's potential prose
a rare rose
a nose of lilac blooms
beauty's ballrooms
a pleasurable bruise
love's uncomfortable shoes
a plum's point of view
progeny of red and blue
evening sky's blending
a rainbow's favorite ending
Themes are overlapping
The current keeps criss crossing
Dreaming and digressing depressing and unkind
Mish mash meandering in a labyrinth of minds
Wonder lost.....fingers crossed....
Misdiagnosed and so stupidly maintained
Disjointed mistake.....
Contorted remorse
No kingdom no horse
Replaying the scene
Rehearsing the song ... unmended
Keep doing wrong
How do I check my tongue?
Why does it always come out wrong?
Ill get forgiven - of course
And then I transcend it - much worse
Imprinted my thinking - not right
I keep on repeating .... my plight
Until I get along, its best I walk alone
How to undo this old refrain
Your spirit I fractured - time and again
The house where I grew up
Came with a clothesline in the back,
A dryer being something that
Most homes those days did lack.
I learned to hang the towels,
Overlapping just a bit,
Since by doing so, more laundry
On the line would get to fit.
I visualize my mom,
With wooden clothespins firmly gripped
In her mouth, despite the fact
With clothespin bag she was equipped.
When Covid struck, I hung a rope
Across my bathtub’s length,
Afraid to hit the laundry room
And test its viral strength.
It was a clothesline, technically;
I called it by that name.
Without the backyard breezes, though,
It wasn’t quite the same.
Looking Deeper
By Miracle Man
12/25/2021
A game breaker it’s not,
the outer wrapping.
Inner beauty is stunning,
in someones eyes.
It’s a bonus when the two,
are overlapping,
That’s when we realize,
God’s given us the prize.
True beauty emanates from the heart.
Written: February 19, 2024
____________________________________
The dam, in which
the tissue residue is present
has a saline ecosystem
despite the dryness
It is still preferable
to a carnival of wood and
burnt bryony bushes.
You could smell it.
from light-years afar
a tourniquet grasp of
saffron soil in a swooshing
flame is inscribed on the
plains armrest.
The grassland dips in
revealing slabs of an ancient utopia
the focal halftone of a
floating forehead features
a house of clovers motif
my torn lobes throb
beating as a breathing bruise,
hiding behind the partial eclipse
the integral aspects of
crimson maple.
I started overlapping
the threshold
to be buried as an
enigma in the depths of her soul
in the funnel, mists of ash, and shaking
sprinting into the intricacies of a
heavenly sanctuary
dubbed heart.
I was first picked up
In a cast-off shop in Liverpool;
Surrounded by racks of seasoned shirts
Bearing names of old soldiers.
“Draper” draped on an immature frame
In a collage of brown and green,
Overlapping and enveloping
Any semblance of a past self.
Baby-faced and militant,
The paradoxical camo in an urban warzone.
Slogans painted from shoulder to shoulder
In pungent, nuclear-white bathroom paint.
The smell is burned to memory,
Singeing nose hairs with chemical vigour,
Of dance-generated sweat, upturned pints,
A lover’s aftershave, the sting of cigarette smoke.
Washed once, maybe twice,
But anxious eyes watched the spin cycle,
Fearing specks of dislodged paint
Covering my muddy canvas.
Now “Draper” drapes a matured frame,
The only scent that lingers is
The petrichor of Northern summer
Tie-dyed deep into my fibres.
I bare a name that isn’t mine,
Memories of a life I did not live,
Scars from battles I never saw,
And honours that aren’t mine to claim.
You say that I’m victim which is concept.
Than clarify my pain and say again.
Save me from red tidal, make me content.
Now can you feel my pain in your deep brain?
Overlapping stress makes me crazy man.
No answer from the question makes me guess.
Being happy is deleted and ban.
Complicated answers bring me to mess.
No-one will catch me from the dark spirit.
It is impossible to walk in dark.
No-one can help my darkness and clear it.
I will try to be like a clever ark.
They will see me such as big dark black beast.
Hey; myself, you've done enough, so go rest…