Best Paradises Poems
In the middle of my plain white wall
There is a plain white window
And next to my plain white window
Is where I sit in a plain white dress
On a plain white chair
And every morning the sun rises
And every evening the sun sets
I see them all from my window
They are very pretty
With many colors
And then one day
A man stops by my window
He calls to me as I sit
In my plain white dress
On my plain white chair
He calls to me to tell me of the world
That I may come and join him
But I have seen the troubles of the world
All beyond my window
And I say to him I'd rather stay
And sit here by my window
Where troubles cannot reach me
He smiles a sweet sad smile as he walks away
Though the next day he is back again
And he talks to me of grass
Of green lush grass that is soft enough to walk on barefoot
I tell him of the glass that is hidden among the blades
He just smiles a sweet sad smile as he walks away
And back again he comes
To tell me of the ocean and sandy beaches
With white sand so pure you can lay naked upon it
I shake my head and tell of the pirates
That come to kidnap young and pretty girls
He smiles his sweet sad smile as he walks away
The next day he walks softly to my window
And he tells me of a garden untouched by men
Where flowers are the size of children
And blooms reach to the heavens
He tells me of the grass that hides no glass
Of a sky that is of the brightest blue
And a stream that is so pure you can
Be unwary of drinking from it
He talks of fish and birds of indescribable beauty
All this he tells me is mine
I must only leave my window and I may see it
I shake my head sadly as I tell him
I am afraid the world holds too much danger
For even if there were such a place
What misfortunes may befall me
On my way to this so called garden
He smiles a very sad smile and as he walks away
He says that paradise belongs to those who
Take risks and battle hardships to reach it
These are the words I remember as I watch the sun set
And the next day when he comes
To my plain white window
He will see me missing in my plain white dress
On an empty plain white chair
For I have gone to walk on glass and battle pirates
On my way to paradises garden
Categories:
paradises, adventure, inspirational, life, religion,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
It is the old man from the threefold of life
To whom I have taken control on this
But the poet whatever
The cause should be
The one who must walk
Along the concept
For which beauty fades from
Measure of apparent
Size of naturalistic explanations
Regardless how rich your heart is
And none of us is able pass through.
It is the poet who is living
Psychologically into this burrow of guesses
And paradises within him
With reflection and with correction
Of life this creates such
A record that commands he must live or die.
Categories:
paradises, dedication, devotion, inspirational, journey,
Form:
Free verse
New scripts and scrolls
Introduce new casts
And write out new roles
Baby run away with me
New hands to hold
On new paths to walk
Run away with me
New reasons to use our lips
They’re not just for talk
New wings to fly
On new heavenly paths to glide
Run away with me
Close your eyes
And run away with me
Bring those smiles
And run away with me
We’re apart
But run away with me
Even though days pass
And we can’t see
Each other smile
Baby still run away with me
Run away with me
Let’s escape to garden paradises
Where we walk hand in hand
In mental paradises
And nothing is more beautiful
Than your eyes please
Run away with me
I love you
Run away with me
Run away with me…
Categories:
paradises, hope, love,
Form:
Join me while we doze off in a lavender field
Allow me to indulge in a few splashes of color
Hold these drips of yearned-for times in mind
to enter magical paradises with a simple slide.
and immerse yourself entirely in me
A teardrop slides and drips down your cheek
leaving a dead spot on your lips corner
The intense thrill of being in devotion.
soon we shall be overflowing with feeling
A hypnotic embrace of skin-on-skin
entwining and encircling one another
sharing a night of laughter and affection.
Written: May 10, 2023
Categories:
paradises, analogy, appreciation, character, cute
Form:
Free verse
To my Mother's Grace
The world and skies are not equal
To the grace of my mother
The heaven and paradises are not equal
To the love of my beloved mom
She guarded me as a pearl in the oyster
Her words and love will enough to live here
She fed me with her blood and
Gave me a life and soul here
My every pound of flesh,
My every turns and moves
Are her precious sacrifices in the world
The God and fairies will never be equal to her
She is my mother.I love her forever
SAKTHI RAVICHANDRAN AN INDIAN ENGLISH POET
Categories:
paradises, mother, me, love, me,
Form:
Free verse
The age-old dream is a nightmare,
that has haunted us far too long,
still it lures in so many souls
with the sweetness of its song.
But beyond the simple melody
a darkness quickly appears,
those who preach of utopia
are the ones we should most fear.
It all starts out pleasant enough,
they want to build the perfect world,
with peace, love, and prosperity,
for every single boy and girl.
But on what defines perfection,
the can never truly agree,
tell them it’s abstract idea,
and they scream out ‘heresy!’
Not that this will stop the push,
they’re convinced that they’re right,
and any who would oppose them,
are an evil and a blight.
First it’s campaigns to convince
that they hold the greatest truth,
then to the schools for targeting
the dumb, impressionable youth.
They think that this will do the job,
but too many reject and dismiss,
then comes all the social pressure,
go along or you’re not ‘with it.’
And when even that doesn’t prevail,
they always turn to government,
use law to force you to agree,
or face a long imprisonment.
This becomes the tipping point,
since government is always force,
yet convinced they’ll bring perfection,
they’ll do what was once abhorred.
Some penalties put you in camps,
doomed to a miserable fate,
no longer do you just ‘disagree,’
you’re now enemy of the state.
It does not take much to see this,
such an endless, brutal trend,
Hitler’s ‘perfect’ Aryan Reich
sent ten million to their end.
And all those workers ‘paradises,’
their purges and class enemies,
Sent a hundred million folk to death,
to build their ‘ideal’ societies.
Even down on the smaller scale,
the same result you will find,
Jamestown, Heaven’s Gate, and Waco;
where people were burned alive.
How many would still be with us,
how many fewer would be dead,
if we could take utopia
and drive it clear out of our heads?
In fact the very word itself,
if you look back on history,
literally translates as ‘no place,’
in the original Greek.
As in no place can ever exist
where mankind lives perfect,
Better is the best we can do
without leaving people wrecked.
Best we keep shouting this truth out
before we all tumble and fall,
We must fear, fear utopia,
or else it will kill us all.
Categories:
paradises, how i feel, humanity,
Form:
Rhyme
Call me a DREAMER call me an IDEALIST. I want mass appeal.
I am a dreamer. As I think, my muse are heavy unclear
I fall asleep MY dreams are plenty starlit glistening seeming VIVID.
My Contemplation DEEP near daunting. I seek the best of BOUNTIES
steep, until I wake to count the trophies that I keep.
I refrain from CONSCIOUS tidings or else be accused of SHEEPLESS
SLEEP and JADED SCHEMES.
I am a dreamer listening to the pattering raindrops as I sleep I dream of
PEACH ORCHARDS and fields of VIOLET blades of GRASS. I dream of
PLATINUM sashes ample sample stashes of CHOCOLATE CANDY CANES
and tasty CARAMEL TREATS. I seek the finest shores Of the planet
UNTOUCHED islands GALORE.
I dream of IMMEASURABLE measures of TREASURE TROVES and other
Mundane riches never told, warm paradises spectacular surprises. I am the
Keeper of my dreams. I am a dreamer of RASPBERRY kisses
And PURPLE PASSION WISHES NOW
Moon light gleaming as I lull my weary body
Back to QUIET slumber
QUIET is the night.
Categories:
paradises, beach, body, candy, confusion,
Form:
Prose
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
~~*~~
Natasha with her dark raven hair and ebony eyes, the most beautiful of rouge smiles
~~*~~
Radiant in soft glowing skins perfection unto, allurings wishful eyes
~~*~~
All whom have been so enchanted in their knowing; desiring her silkened touch...
~~*~~
She my twin sister although one would rarely guess given, my long golden hair
~~*~~
Emerald eyes yet, both, gifted in the physique of a goddess; bequeathed at our birth *
~~*~~
Sharing a lifes delicious common interest in this our love for, beautiful girls ~
~~*~~
Candles aligning the walkway as gently she takes my hand; paradises passage
~~*~~
Hourglass desires within a rose petaled fragrant bath; laced, amid vintage red wine...
~~*~~
Waiting in this their loveliness, the joy of our arrival; these, maidens of our craving
~~*~~
Fondling and playfully enjoying one anothers beauty, as dreaming, of our love ~
~~*~~
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
...“Sweet-Blood-Line-Lust” *
Categories:
paradises, love, passion, romance, sister,
Form:
Free verse
Two Squirrels in Love
Alas! There there are at the break of day
With the new sun warming their curly tails.
There they are dancing from tree top to tree top
Like Fred Estare and Ginger Rogers.
Breaking in the new day with a new dance
As their hearts swell with sheer delight.
Two squirrels in love
Sharing their paradise of all paradises.
A quaint little park at the end of the street
A place where lovers meet.
A place where hearts connect for the very first time.
But it’s all theirs!
The dance floor for these two squirrels in love-
It’s all theirs!
Dancing on the branches of the elm trees above
A paradise for two.
Or shall we say three?
For next spring there shall be three!
Father squirrel, mother squirrel, and little squirrel
chasing each other on the branches
of the tallest elm trees.
Gwendolen Rix
6-6-14
Categories:
paradises, cute love, nature,
Form:
Free verse
Light the candles, or nevermind!
Burn the witch! Watch him go up in fire!
And now for something completely different...
I used to rule the world, seas rose with my word before I died
All elephants’ paradises one and the same
I’m bulletproof, nothing to lose this afternoon
Putting on my red dress for after the afternoon
Everyone is gay now, but nevermind
The broken smile on her face the same
As yesterday, taken away to the dark side of fire
You sung on radio, in video you died
And now for something completely different...
And now for something completely different...
Wilted roses filling our stage this afternoon
Easy come, easy go, your love all I wanted, I think I died
I’m locked inside your heart-shaped box, but nevermind,
Bringing me out the dark, starting in my heart, a fire
To stay up all night to have fun, up all night to get some, every reason the same.
We’re one, but we’re not the same
And now for something completely different...
I was born sick in the fire
Closing walls and ticking clocks in the afternoon
Polly wants a cracker? Nevermind!
I want to have control, to have a perfect soul. If only she died…
My shadow’s over you until you die
She tied you to her kitchen chair to make you the same
Bruises on your fruit! Nevermind.
And now for something completely different...
What’s love but a second-hand emotion for the afternoon?
Chinese psychic spies and silver-screen girls from Sweden in the fire
Why does the world say we started the fire?
Don’t they realize the music’s always died?
Why do we switch the channels every Sunday afternoon?
The candidates will always be the same…
And now for something completely different...
Oh well, whatever, nevermind…
Memoria, memoria, every afternoon; doused in bleach? Nevermind!
Gods’ minds aren’t fire, they’re ice; for them, every person is the same
You and I? We were born to die! And now for something completely different...
Categories:
paradises, song,
Form:
Sestina
I. Creation
Before the troubles of the world infect the soul
The magic of imagination creates a womb
Devoid of torment, pain, and stress. Rainforests,
Jungles, beaches, other worlds of elation where
You are always the victor in battle, the one
Who finds true love, alpha and omega. Never
Landing in withered trees or dead grass, only
Strong trunks and rolling plains, an ocean
Of stars, a blanket while lying comfy on
Palm fronds floating down calm dreamy
Rivulets of turquoise streams. Locomotives
Wind down vast forest covered country sides
Their tracks gliding to the warm earthy
Humming sound only they can make.
Only now with danger, inherent only to your peaceful fire
Bring you to this happy place, a place desired.
II. A Home all Your Own
In the world of yesterdays and tomorrows
And days lost in the gyre of solstices we
Create a world unto ourselves. Paradises
Lost to the antiquity of children trapped
Inside their adult armor. Lies tipped with
Poison seep into the wells of being, melting
The oil from the canvas’ that dreams are painted on.
Cheap reminiscences flash through tattered wafting
Curtains. Nightmare doppelgangers wait in quarries
of fire breathing mountain giants laying siege to
Rapture found in a good escape. Chemical
Demons like iron maidens brandishing your
Favorite drugs, syringes close in creating
An eerie starry night
To you alone
In a home all your own.
III. Repent to your inner child
To regain a solid footing on the gun deck
Of the warship you’re riding in the flotsam,
Hearken lessons from the playground,
The bruises, nicks, and cuts proudly earned
Ensure the necessary skills are acquired
To embark on adventures of the body.
Hiding in shrouds like an angel
White egret with horsehair-like crests and
Misty wings is the caged fury of joy, her
Wings mightier, beak stronger, eyes sharper
And love unabated from years unvisited.
Swelling seas are sailed, reefs can’t breach
A flying draft when joy carries her burden
Aloft. Hair amber and aflame in the setting sun
Amidst a new sea of clouds, only anchor
In a child’s heart when the dream fades
And the soul returns among the shades.
Categories:
paradises, childhood, introspection, life, mystery,
Form:
I lost myself with you here
Where the heavens and trees weave a canopy
Of silhouette and starlight
A safe haven of innocent love
To which only I now reminisce
Here I fill the void with phantoms
Forlorn moments of you and I
Almost remembered feelings of discovery
Where exhilaration blanketed us
In impulsively tossed protection
On those oppressive and humid summer nights
Sleeping in the protection of your embrace
Breathing sweet ardor
I silently confessed of my spirit
Parching that eternal thirst of you
With no care for consequence
We discovered paradises and agony
Sitting upon this crumbling staircase we once ascended
I spy the traces of the moments once shared
Pallid confetti blowing away
And stepped over in the unseen cracks…
Categories:
paradises, angst, introspection, lost love,
Form:
Free verse
Today we are going to do an experiment;
Let us put washing powder in vinegar!
My son said.
That's when
I felt the ink
Bubbling over;
Like washing
Powder in vinegar;
In my mind.
A frothy fun;
A chemical reaction
That worked!
So the ink exploded
In my brain!
Boom!
I had to write and write;
Weave tales in
Silky paper with violet streams
Of ink
Flowing central
In my brain!
With crimson
And Azure
And green
I weaved stories of
Cerulean skies
Meadows of crayon flowers!
With rainbow ink
I weaved tales of winging birds,
Flightless birds, birds of prey,
Birds of paradises,
Birds of hell.
With rainbow ink
I weaved tales of allegories, metaphors
And matadors.
Frothy fun kept being fruity
And sad at times
For I felt the pain of
My queens and peasant girls.
Yasemin Balandi
Dedicated to my son.
Categories:
paradises, adventure, analogy, beautiful, birth,
Form:
Free verse
when the sun finally shines its last hot beams of
annoying rays down upon the slimy suntan-lotion-saturated
bodies &
the convertibles get taken back in the garages &
the vast groups of lame ass motorcyclists who drive only during
the summer months (gliding on their gross neon-colored crotch-rockets)
disappear &
the swimsuits, tank-tops, flip-flops & birkenstocks are all
stuffed back into their proper drawer in the dresser
(with all the sand cleaned from every nook and cranny in question) &
all those little kiddies hawking their lemonade all have to go back to school
(thus closing up those awful stands that pitifully provoke people into pretending that they wanted a dixie cup of watered down yellow sugar) &
the clothes hardly covering any of the strapping young lads
and the sexy young ladies all are traded in for clothes that do the exact opposite &
all the bugs start to die while the birds start to think very seriously about beginning to pack up the ol’ nest n’ begin flying south &
all the picnic-fanatics go back inside &
all the campers are done masquerading as outdoorsmen & women (going back to the cities where they came from) &
all the country folk who took their lil’ vacations to exciting metropolitan settings & tropical paradises have gone back to their mundane towns & villages &
we who love the changing foliage,
the apple cider donuts,
the colder temperatures nuzzling their way in,
the shorter days coming,
the crisp breeze blowing,
the pumpkin spiced coffee drinks, pumpkin pie, pumpkin muffins & pumpkin cookies,
the cardigans, flannel shirts, jeans, hoodies & all other of our layers
finally broke out for our comfortable frumpiness,
the scented candles burning throughout,
the little rugrats (probably the same ones that were hawking the yellow sugar water) dressing up for their halloween &
halloween in general---
will no longer be waiting on october.
Categories:
paradises, life, halloween, clothes, yellow,
Form:
Free verse
In a place, In another time was where it all initiated
A bombed out place with mixed climatic systems, Reinstated
But moving on in this place gave me a cerebral pulsation
For within and outside these boundaries, I knew no realization
Was it entirely fictional in all its worth, Or was there sense to my thoughts
I knew paradises face was not written in the smoke, With cascading numerics and
endless noughts
My perceptions redeemed the credible flashes of reality, But I was in suspension
I agonized walking through splinters of fire and wrath in this cultured dimension
I caught a hollow lie in my head, Which was rhythmic until it spread
It was then that I realized this place was not real, Only a fantasy in my head
And then I became aware that this existence was never ending wonder
Looping and cascading, Everything with psychedelic elegance, A shattering electric
thunder
Brilliance came forth in verse and actuality, Amongst my mind their thoughts
manipulated
A cataclysmic pulse scored my spine, As if I was charged, But deep within felt
simulated
Anything in composite material form was reassuring, But the dreams struck like
death
Nothing in this world titled Arcadia with flesh, Only skeletons with expired breath
Arcadia has claimed its child, Swallowing in gulps, And taken aback by the ferocity
I am the Tempest swirling in all dimensions, breathing in the atrocity
The End.
Categories:
paradises, fantasy
Form: