Best Permeate Poems
Spring Flowers
Opal open clouds let raindrops freely fall
Coaxing coy blossoms of spring to bloom.
Fragrant sweet scents permeate the air.
Snow drops begin the parade as they appear.
It is believed that snow drops originated
When an angel breathed upon a snowflake.
The pansy’s bright *French face in viola shades
Were known to represent a lover’s pursuit
And remembrance of his loyalty and love.
Scilla Siberica with their nodding blue-bell like
Flowers feature a Royal Horticultural status.
Their faint fragrance and hues mesmerize.
Let’s not forget the flowering trees swaying in
Spring’s bucolic breeze where cherry blossoms
Seize our eyes in pink or white with such delight.
Song birds sing their sonorous songs with joy
As snow melts into rivers flow and waves goodbye.
New birth, harbinger of hope arrives in spring.
3-12-22
Spring Showers or Spring Flowers Poetry Premiere Contest~Nineth Place~
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
*The word, pansy is derived from French
language and means ‘thought’.
My thanks to Wikipedia for the photo:
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/38/Scilla_carpet_Alnwick_gardens.jpg
Pirate women permeate my spaces.
They are fierce and fabulous.
You dare not lie to them.
They will cut you to shreds, with their swords.
Cut you to ribbons.
I do not crouch in fear.
I created them.
They are ruthless, savage,
out for blood.
Thirsty for it.
I walk their planks proudly.
Eager for the drowning
that awaits.
"When humanity becomes louder than love, stay out of its way. At times, it's better to be the lion in the distance, rather than the sheep losing their way...again."
This was the 1st time
I felt out of place.
Its impact mimicked abused parallelograms
Unto emptiness’ solution
I witness sliced wrists shedding bohemian smiles.
Testament verses
Latching onto anchors of invalid mo(u)rning
There was no sunrise to be found,
Because humanity kept making love to silhouetted blinders
I was surrounded by shovels
Ransacked
For the sake of digging louder messages’ trench
While I
Caress incipient wings
And half-full Windex bottles
Just to keep perception from clouding my lyrics
Because nobody wants to see eye to eye…
…
…cataract-laced speeches permeate tainted whispers
Of an innocent breath
Simply
Searching
For B-rated serendipity
Oh, this was the 1st time
I felt out of place.
Turning away from windowed afflictions
Ready
To step towards gratitude’s breath
Outside,
No longer looking in
How good it feels.
Yet, I still miss my friends.
©Drake J. Eszes
I want to
I really do
I want to walk the walk
But I have a limp
Hobbled by all the things I think
There seems to be more than one missing link
On the beach of life, I try stepping softly but still I sink
I want to
I really do
I want to talk the talk
But I'm afraid, fifty shades of grey times two
How do I know if what I believe is true?
Will it be evidenced by the things I do?
Or in the end will I be influenced by you?
Walking and talking
It's just not enough
I need to relinquish all my inner stuff
Allowing myself to be weak instead of tough
For if God works in mysterious ways
Everything leads to the end of days
So instead of walking and talking my hands I'll raise
With voice and heart I will give God praise
If I allow Jesus to love me
He will guide my walk
He will permeate my heart and the way I talk
My inner softness he will surely unlock
His words not mine will become my rock
it's not about doing
It's more about being
His way, is the way of helping and seeing
By letting Him lead, it will be more freeing
The more I witness the more I'll be believing
Walking and talking but more importantly listening!
Inspired by Debbie Guzzi's contest but not for the contest.
The wind against the trees make a rustling
A sound unlike any other around
The rubbing of the limbs craft a bustling
It’s a subtle music which brings this sound
Even the lake near land has a ripple
The wind against the trees make a rustling
And the grass nearby swishes and baffles
And the wind seems to give a great panting
The water has another sound, bubbling
Sounds permeate all throughout this calm place
The wind against the trees make a rustling
Mountain sits mighty with sounds on its face
Even the light seems to speak of high marks
The scene enlightens higher than heartstrings
Sound is the number one part that embarks
The wind against the trees make a rustling…
Russell Sivey
Contest: 'SOUNDS'
Sponsor: FRANK H.
5/11/2013
You speak into your child's life in whispers
With the strength of the four winds
No need for yelling
For your child has expectant ears
Wisdom
A fathered gift
Born out of pained understanding
Mistakes not needed to be repeated
Your love an inoculation to failure
Resilience will permeate a new generation
You smile with furrowed brow
For time passes much to quickly
There is fear there is some lesson you have forgotten
Not what you want for your begotten
Still you see this precious ones progression
He possess strength laughter and compassion
Humored moments and strong funny bones
Will insure this child will never be alone
A tender heart and a will like a stone
One day
You will have to let go
Time progresses it never slows
Deep inside your heart grows because you know
You have given your all
This child will rise up tall
Won't be afraid to fall
He heeds your Father's call
For he has learned at your loving feet
Wisdom has been his bountiful feast
Some day he'll be a father too
He'll bring blessings back to you
For you have been faithful
and a father true
Inspired by Funom's poem, "Words of Wisdom to My Child".
Rambling around, gardens greet us,
faint scents permeate the air.
Late sunflowers start to hang their heads,
crinkled celosia "cristata" adorn haughty patches,
while blue Agapanthus demand queen reign.
In wooded areas once green, all color mutate:
ash turns to yellow, maple delights in red,
while dogwood almost precious pink.
Nature in Fall gives us her best.
I began to tell of the two pens (my couplet) I always carry tucked away in my shirt
pocket, and of my humble closet which contains nary a pocketless shirt.
My thoughts drifted to what by.. and how I am inspired, when my love and I began speaking
of a subject very dear to me.
When we finished .... in what I believe to be an infused prayer,...perhaps inspiration to
some,... I saw what seemed to be liquid glass like droplets ..falling slowly from above ..
as a slow motion shower into an atmosphere of what may have been, space and time. I saw
no earth or sky.
These liquid glass droplets were falling without disruption through a pellucid barely
recognizable outline of a figure that I perceived to be a poet.
Somewhere from within I asked why the poet could not be lined somehow with a shell to
capture these apparently valuable liquid glass treasures. They were so clear that the
atmosphere through which they were falling, appeared as a gloom gray.
I understood that these treasures cannot be contained or retained. They must fall
through the poet who must also be like these liquid luculent treasures in order that these
particular gifts may come through the poet ..continuing to transform same and all others who
allow these treasures to permeate them.
There is no clearer description within me to give. ...
And then... I was no longer free and came back into the pain,
discomfort and seemingly bloated entity
within this shell.. that I call me.
Dark red lips trace your neck, trailing down your chest
I can’t control my lust once I’ve caught the scent of you
Your smooth flesh burns where my chilled lips brush
Your heat steaming off into the winter night… it wants you too.
But you are only mine as you pull me tight against you
Your warmth is for my body alone.
I belong to someone and you are going to show me who
As your hand covers my red lips, stifling my moan
Pin me against the window pane,
Digging into my flesh.
Let the flavor of me drive your senses insane
Drink from me my thirsty guest.
Rock me, grip me don’t hold back
This is your time to release everything angry in your life.
Make me scream, let me fill up what your world lacks
Feel the waves of our intensity permeate the night.
Then, be merciful after I am taken, and now our burning kiss
After you have bleed me and our lust has taken its course
Discover my true and own yearning motive
And give me my taste of yours…
All the lights dim out
as I crawl into my spacesuit.
I fill the air with crystal screams,
my mind is ripping at the seams.
If it falls apart,
I will surely wait here.
I'm made of gold in all my dreams,
surrounded by my favourite things.
The stars will age and die,
blowing matter to new places.
My flesh is celestial dust,
but my golden bones will rust.
I never asked to be here;
This equation isn't right,
All I taste is bittersweet -
there's broken dreams between my teeth.
The glowing lights will permeate,
the stardust spreads and dissipates,
and I will always wonder why.
I'll keep your secrets, hope to die.
Put down your remote
pick up your pen
write me
Make me current
as I could only be written
in this very moment
(but make me timeless)
Assign words to
smells, sounds, tastes, sights
that only you sense
(but make me universal)
Recall every poet
(but be yourself)
Recollect every writing rule
(so you will know when and how to break them)
Make me enigmatic enough
that I can’t be comprehended on the first pass
(but intriguing enough to want seconds)
Season me with swagger
to inspire the timid
Saturate me with hope
to comfort the downhearted
Imbue me with faith
to inspire the seeking
Permeate me with love
to bless the lonely
Don't sweat it if others do it better than you
(they don't know your heart)
Put down your laptop
your briefcase
your phone
pick up your pen
and write me
(I am your story)
Gigaflops
Did you meet the Boogyman
Did you see his stare?
Or were you in the land of nod
Blissfully unaware
Of the face that’s at your window
Or the menace in your room
Or the giant bug that’s infiltrated each device you own
The sinister reflection to be remotely viewed
Or the troll that sits in wait beneath your old computer stool.
Did you know the Boogyman had come tonight to stay?
To interfere, to change the rules, to win, to have his way.
To permeate the World Wide Web and take complete control
To hack into your emails and alter all your codes
Open up your firewall, check that it’s enabled
Test your antivirus make sure that it is stable
Back up all your data your photos and your files
Scan and defragment, reformat your drives
Ask yourself which Boogyman do you fear the most
The worm, the thread, the virus, or the awful viral ghost
Step into the Matrix, be one with the machine
Understand it from within, if only in your dreams
Feel the power that drives it, look behind closed doors
Recognise the program files, could they possibly be yours
Switch off your computer, let the screen turn black
Gaze into the monitor and see it staring back
Even when the power is off the monster you can view
Face to face you realise, the Boogyman is you.
Merry trumpet, sassy saxophone
Stand poised in the quaint jazz room,
waiting on their music men
to begin their heartfelt tunes.
Bold drums awaiting patiently
For slim sturdy wooden sticks,
to beat rhythm on their tummies
and give all fun loving kicks.
Great tuba's vigorous chiming voice
so deep and oh so grand!
Brings heart and soul and humor
To the jolly good brass band.
Round banjo with its steely strings
gets plucked and strummed with joy
As it sounds those fun and lively tunes
that we hum and so enjoy.
Majestic piano's harmonic keys,
Tap melodious magnificient airs
Reverberating ubiquitously,
By the maestro graced with flair.
In delightful unison they permeate our souls,
These musical masters and their wares.
Give glory to our "Ultimate Composer",
Whose creations are so debonair.
May 13, 2016
(Revised December 2016)
For Carolyn
By Carolyn Devonshire & James Marshall Goff
My hand
Wet with tears pouring down my face
Reaches out and finds nothing
Empty spaces where familiar voices
Once comforted me
My only hope
Is sleep, where dreams, in sketchy
Re-wind, promise a glimpse of lost
Loved ones, maybe a voice, if fleeting
Even, to soothe me
Those still with me
Look to me for strength, my motor
Memory urging me on, focusing
On the well, deep in my heart,
Cycle renews
Another beloved soul passes
Light they find
But darkness they leave behind
Grief
Hungry monster
Selfishly consumes my life
Devours all glimmers of hope
Leaving me
Destitute on a perilous plane
Mere existence
Not life as it once was
Sanity
Confronting memories, loneliness
Trek on an unbalanced bridge
Connecting life and death
Emotions purged
Shadows of yesterday surround me
Wisdom of loved ones
Permeate my thoughts
Filled
With clear vision, handed down to me
From my ancestors
Unpublished
2014
Soul Essence
Release comes with death.
The mortal host is no more.
A faint and sad cackle is heard,
As all illusions come to an end.
The bare body lies in a stiff repose.
What once was, is now no more.
Tears are shed in a mortal milieu,
As the soul begins its ascension.
The flowers in decoration serve
As a human memory of the past.
Tender emotions now permeate the air,
As the flowers’ sweet smell is realized.
The moon shines bright in the dark sky,
As the soul now meets its cosmic destiny.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
March 30, 2018 (Lyric)