Best Perilously Poems
Wrapped in the passion of the moment
engulfed in a cascade of a emotion
carried by a gushing torrent of desire
dancing on the rapids of uncertainty
two unknowing hearts intertwined
in the rapture of blinding passion
rush toward forbidden waters.
In the midst of love's blissful chaos
will two unknowing hearts whirl
perilously over confusion's cliff
and plunge helplessly toward
the jagged rocks of ill-fated love,
or will two unknowing hearts
be found desperately clinging
to the last branch of innocents?
ice-shrouded tree limbs
tilt perilously groundward
sparrows have cold feet
THIRD PLACE WINNER
written November 15, 2022
syllables checked by PS
for "Winter Haiku Poetry Contest"
sponsored by Tania Kitchin
#20 on Best 100 New Poems List
Poetry Soup
February 1, 2022
"The Fresh Blooding of a Sexton Grin"
Guns ...
are for p*ssies
you know, short for
pussilanimous plural
Words …
are sharper
more cutting
more lethal
clean
concise
quill slicing the lucid flow
you can taste the blood
as you turn them
twist them further in
with valour
war cry bitten
you drive them deeper in
you unsheathe love
as a hard win,
victorious, won
ink blooms
potent power from
your stellar wounds
darkened roads
shining home
lux vitae dei vox
Home ...
morning star
quod scripsi scripsi
turns the light on
to birth puissant
in the majestic
seat of third eye
commanding
the truest titulus
initials glowing
arriving on cloudy tomes
perilously igniting
new fiery caims
swallowing
ouroboros tales
hear the battle cry
you were built
to withstand the fall
to more mighty again rise
the gauntlet
now well
and truly thrown
something
more darkly formidable
than shady insult sown
sink your new teeth in
fresh biting warrior
I christen you Boadicea
blood cup possessed
razor mind in you conjuring
the tongues of hearts to speak
there is no escape
for in you, I am and
I will always live
crucifying
all the wasting yesterdays
with fresh blooded promissory notes
staking claims of assurance
in the terror firmer
here to stay
sharpening
words taken
from a stone
n'ere a flowery
verbose drip
wasted
salting
the new cuts
to feel something vital
smiling within
fresh blooding
the Sexton grin
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
“Come as You Are”/Nirvana
https://youtu.be/W2QeQ9ZufAk
“The Black Art”/Anne Sexton
https://allpoetry.com/The-Black-Art
“Her Kind”/Anne Sexton
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42560/her-kind
Sexton. noun
titulus. noun
Caim. noun
Sanctuary; An invisible circle of protection drawn around the body with the hand, to remind one of being safe and loved even in the darkest times.
"STRONG"
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/strong_1192970
LYRICS/"Come as You Are", Nirvana
https://genius.com/Nirvana-come-as-you-are-lyrics
Frozen to perfect, stiff, fixed and fast,
Forever replicating exact,
Transparent colours of love and beauty,
Forever being abstract,
She’s a water kingfisher, with a purple song box,
Or ocean wave smashing to shore,
Forever being a shimmering dog,
Or a magnificently powerful horse,
She can be hard and solid, reliably strong,
Unflinching to hurt, rage or pain,
Or she can be a delicate fragile of perilously weak,
Carrying your toast of champagne,
She’s our beautiful glass, our goblet of glaze,
Our sculptured trichromatic quartzite,
She’s everything beautiful wrapped into one,
Illuminating a rainbow of light.
My old bones swayed to the old tune
bringing back memories long forgotten.
My spirit rejoiced in exultation
of a ne'er forgotten loving excitation.
For you’re my Dancing Queen.....
There you stood like a wallflower,
indifferent, lukewarm, nonchalant;
seemingly thinking about other things.
You drove me mad, my dancing queen,
you taunted me perilously, wretchedly.
How could I ever bear the teasing looks
you guardedly gave me, my lovely nymph?
I was dancing with some insipid teen,
definitely not having the time of my life;
my loving eyes piercing your sensuous curves
like Eros arrows hitting at random and at will.
Yet you looked on as if I was not there.
The music grew to a raw crescendo....
For you were my dancing queen
and suddenly I was madly in love with you.
I twirled, spun and tripped over you.
The music stopped, dancers gazed at me
with a heartfelt pang as I lay sprawled at your feet.
A racking malaise stabbed my whole being
until I felt your strong hands help me up
steadying me, and leading me to a chair.
And you were only nineteen!!!
The music began again, the old familiar strains
How nimble you could dance,
Oh how I yearn for that sweet moment
For you were my dancing queen......
You danced away while I stayed put
as my foot swelled with excruciating pain.
The euphoric dance came to a halt.
The lights went low.
You helped me to your waiting car.
I leant back, tired and abject
Until I felt your lips on mine;
the heavenly music began again...
yes, yes you’re my dancing queen,
you will always be my dancing queen.
Recurring Dream – 2
No talent
Dreams come on the crashing waves of R.E.M. sleep.
They come from the darkest oceans of the subconscious deep,
whispers of time exhausted, drifting into the midnight hours
perilously merging, in darkness, with what we thought ours.
Not !, for there is this other recurring dream.
From its surrealistic messages, I do glean,
a missive from its distorted images seen
- there is no talent coming from within me –
This is why – it seems – all I will ever be
is a laborer, an apprentice, a go for
doing all the **** work – nothing more
in these dream - my life , slowly closing the door.
B. J. “A ” 2
June 15th 2005
Doors
How fitting that the band’s name derived from Aldous Huxleys’ treatise
‘The Doors of Perception’ that purely aesthetic philosophical story of
life through the window and door I suppose of psychedelia and drugs
In a marriage of heaven and hell ‘Baby light my Fire’ perilously casts
a shadow of what became when he hatched through the final portal
unhinged wasted high as an angel the one and only Jimmy Morrison
‘This is the End’ the final curtain which Jimmy painted in words when
brilliance and despair talent and all those voices in his head were laid
to a final resting place and conclusion of a life pruned and cut so short
The end underlined the movie ‘Apocalypse Now’ in its brutal reality
in a world that does not need reality shows to distract from evil in
which Vietnam and the Holocaust are forgotten and history repeated
Jimmy’s father had been an Admiral in the forces and my father a
General had thought that years on the Russian front could be expunged
by joining NATO’s Cold War delusions fighting for Peace with ready guns
My own rebellion has been quite mild rather mellow but I wonder
how close I have sailed to the wind resisted the calls of Baader and
Meinhof have not bowed to the needle avoided full blown opposition
No comparison in talent for sure and I believe that Jimmy suffered
psychosis and I got away with depression but nevertheless in truth
it is the world that suffers from schizophrenia seems to dabble with
Mescaline induced decomposed compositions when true colours are black
‘This is the End’ and ‘Light my Fire’ misunderstood when genocide beckons
chaos theory
hoping to figure out
what strange attractor
has placed his toys
so perilously near my feet
Published - American Tanka - Winter 2016
Each night I dutifully latch the door
To keep intruders firmly without.
I retire to bed feeling blissfully sure
I am safe from what they are about.
Then one night, the latching complete
I thought of threats already within.
Stroke, heart attack, foes at my feet.
How to bar them, where to begin?
It quickly became hauntingly clear
That mortality assures no defense.
Lethal outcomes are perilously near,
And latching doors is only a pretense.
childhood trauma strengthened her resolve
heartfelt survivors instinct
perilously fearless
Spiny stemmed buckthorn, sunlight shimmers tiny shiny leaves.
Even though in pastures you are mowed down like worthless sheaves.
Ziziphus celata, your family for thee still grieves.
Future exposure: progress, genes raped; developments’ deeds.
1987 six populations, scientists did discover.
This rare and most imperiled plant in Florida must recover!
As controlled burns had hoped, recovery sprouts with ardor.
Amazingly, new plants emerged; respite, fire’s ember.
Miraculously Florida ziziphus live; we now know.
There are some plants in Lake Whales’ pastures growing slow.
Eight populations revived perilously struggling though.
Friends against extinction work, thwarting final fiasco.
Help them find home in longleaf pine, wiregrass sand hills.
“Zigging-zagging” spiny branches embracing life’s fragrant thrill.
Visiting insects would stop, sip and buzz; singing softly, shrill.
It will take help from everyone, not just the government bill.
Agribusiness and urban sprawling must take time to care.
Genetic diversity lost, extinction starts; beware!
Builders, landscape with vanishing plants; sell their added flair.
Farmers grow your splendor with a mini-ecosystem lair.
Let all join hands and set our sights upon a brighter day.
Where lust and greed no longer need and wanting fades away –
Let us learn to value biodiversity’s bouquet
Let not beauty on this earth become man’s grim lost way.
© © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
June2, 2010
Poetic form: Rhyme (Each stanza is a four line monorhyme.)
Yea, it's pretty dumb this thing of ours.
They say over time it sours.
With us its been quite different.
Anytime is time well spent.
Our desperation, like a torrent, flowers.
Under which Cupid's bow is underpowered.
Even Aphrodite is turned and cowers.
It's Betty Crocker without a vent.
A cataclysm on a collision event.
Hard heart's consuming opponent.
You're like a black hole and I'm the lost planet.
My soul's sole destruction is my commitment.
What are we going to do about it?
Maybe, it's safest if we call it quits.
Yet, it's already too late....
as I have tasted the spice that seasons everything worth ravishing in this world.
My love for you, my destiny is unfurled.
You are my gateway drug.
You are my continual wanderlust.
I would be lost without you.
You're like the soil to my dust.
You are my earth's core.
I'm simply the covering crust.
You are everything good that I trust.
Without you, life is a dark room.
Within your arms my heart is trussed
while I am consumed.
We can't quit. Won't quit. Our love is lauded in film, theatre, music and art.
No matter where my feet carry me, they will never from your side depart.
I don't even exist anymore when you're near and I am far.
I love you perilously and forever.
To be an ample subject of adoration will always be my final endeavor.
That's the only promise in life I make.
-Angel Fatale-
Every step you take haunts me
I count them each morning you toss to avoid
the searing sun
I count them as if
each ray ends in trickles of our unsavoury sweat
I count them as days
that have sown my endless regrets
I count them for you
and I count them for the odious nature of
the emptiness in all of us
I count them too,
as they perish like flies...
denied the chance to further infect irony,
to inflict further harm,
by the end of everything
There are times days are shortest
in summer
I count them,
And the fear that I do not know
how to make life love you more
They seem as infinite
as the cliff that perilously retains
your distracted mind
It's easier to count the joys
between the moments of dread
Between the nightly screams of unwanted new life
I count the days till they are you
and someone counts their diminishing dreams
There are times
when night nestles beside me
and seeks its own redemption
I count them,
In fear darkness will soon yield,
when I have lost count...
and storms count for me
Faith of a child is great in God’s sight
Since it reveals sincere trust in its purest height
Showcasing genuine reliance to the Sovereign’s might
Devoid of doubt and unbelief along uncertainty-blight.
Child-like faith was exemplified by virtuous Bible characters
Who in their young age could be considered as heroic masters
In subduing evil and vanquishing the bad that perilously deters
While fully depending on the omnipotent Lord for triumphant encounters.
There was David… fighting as a child, full of courage and valor
Crashing the Philistines’ dominance by ending Goliath’s ruthless vigor.
Samuel was just a boy when he responded to the Creator’s call with honor
To serve sincerely as a prophet, proclaiming truth midst good tidings’ clamor.
The Chronicles spoke of King Josiah who at eight years old was Judah’s head
Instructed by God’s wisdom, with faith in his advisors… he led;
Then we can never forget the lad who willingly shared his fish and bread
Which Jesus Christ multiplied to feed the multitudes in their hunger-dread.
Indeed, child-like faith* wins God’s heart
He even said that having such can open heaven, away from hell’s dart.
Now, my dear Son, let your faith in the Lord increase toward service-rampart;
Always seek His favour before victorious quests you start.
*2Timothy 3:15 And that from a child thou hast known the holy scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus.
November 6, 2018
7th place, "Tell Me A Story 2"
Sponsored by Brenda Chiri; judged on 11/8/2018.
Mystical the old Hill standing
Over it thick mist hazing
Kids, we were at its foot playing
In a large green meadow dallying
Heedless, innocence enjoying
The Hill’s slopes utterly ignoring
In youths, up we were growing
The Hill in our eyes was swelling
The mist little by little retreating
An enthralling Hill gradually unveiling
Majestic it stood there really tempting
The pasture we were all forsaking
One day at its bottom standing
Our sires admiringly observing
The Hill’s slopes they were climbing
The top in sight yet remote looking
A desire, inside, our minds seizing
To conquer the peak an urging longing
The meadow in our hearts dying
To venture up the Hill all our wanting
Vernal, conceited the worst choice making
A steep, sharpest inclination challenging
Soon unknown hardships we were facing
Feet down the slope perilously sliding
Fingernails for a grasp breaking
A helping hand around searching
Bruises our skin covering
The price we were told for learning.
That was only the beginning
Harder moments later we were enduring
Helpless we saw our sires one by one down falling
Yet the ascent wasn’t just sadness and mourning
Dear kids in the meadow our places taking
Their sinless smiles our hearts warming
To green flowery fields for a rest inviting
Peaceful sweet- scented fields, regenerating.
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