Best Phantasies Poems
Back then,
backyards were big enough
to nurture a growing soul
and provide a space
for the earth to play out
its seasons in full rehearsal.
There were wide tracks
of grass, trees to climb,
old sheds to rummage
with their interiors full of tools
and bric-a-brac
webbed in history.
There was food - ripe tomatoes
and corn from a vegetable patch,
grapes swelling
under a cool canopy of vines,
soft skins bursting
their dark sweetness
inside expectant mouths,
almonds, apricots and the luscious
dribble of a warm peach
down sticky cheeks.
Some had roaming chickens
with their bounty of eggs.
Backyards were blotting paper
for a child's hurt, a hiding place
to get away, a theater
for projecting the phantasies
of a sheriff or a princess
high in a golden tower.
And in summer, a sprinkler
casting a gauntlet of cold spray
for tiny feet to challenge.
Then it all ends
when backyards become
too small and more exotic places
call a restless soul to leave
its Eden and break the spell
of its beginning.
Categories:
phantasies, childhood, growth, home, in
Form:
Free verse
Living memories
phantasies of silent desire
winds of golden hope
Categories:
phantasies, imagination
Form:
Senryu
The Dreams of Library Ladies
Library ladies could it be you sometimes dream
With books (and children) all put in their place
Do you imagine an alternate library scene
A view transformed to more exotic space
The British Museum, perhaps you hear it calling
With more books than at which you could shake a stick
Rubbing shoulders with the likes of Marx and Lenin
Guiding them on better path could be your schtick
Under massive Radcliffe Camera's noble dome
Among dusty denizens of Academia
In such an arena would you feel at home
Looking pale, intense, with a name such as Ophelia
Alexandria' s great library (not far from Giza)
As one of nine goddesses of the muse
If given a request from Julius Caesar
Would you find yourself unable to refuse
Then if you feel adventurous and wild
Unseen University beyond the sphere of man *
Magic books have you enchanted and beguiled
But as librarian might become an Orang Utan
The Louvre attended by gallant chevalier
Might be a better option to embrace
Can you see yourself descend a grand escalier
Like Audrey Hepburn before the Victory of Samothrace **
Though life here may seem less thrilling than your revery
Don't be dismayed but feel a rightful pride
In your books are phantasies, a virtual treasury
Dream your dreams for these are such that you provide
* ref. Terry Pratchett's Disc World
** In film: ‘Funny Face’
Categories:
phantasies, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
sonata for the flute and piano
adding
some slices
of a sunrise tasted with the friends
and a calm sleep on the sand
for the brioche with bilberries
I cut the almonds
I break the nuts
in this August evening
the sky releases the colours- like the agate
on the seashore
at the "Seamagic"
torrents of musical phantasies
against the seediness
the Benedich eggs
excited
a handshake
a dreamy smile
broken peers in white wine
who wouldn't give the marchal stick for a marengo chicken?
when the woodcock’s eyes
start fading away
it is a sign that it can taste quiet
this dusk of the day or life
as ISSA can say
tiny summer rain
a romance in the ice bucket
for later on
between graces and muses
only Seneca’s hen
together with the poetess Kozne Uzawa
it a milk coffee
the autumn is near-
some drops in a caress
may cure the heart
(translated by Margareta Mioc )
Categories:
phantasies, joy,
Form:
Imagism
She recall her day when she sat by the window
And saw the defiled sky to brace up on with spiritual phantasm
Of some demonic begrudges – amassing and making
The flushing spirit of the late evening merriments and bichrome realism.
She beshrewed the iniquity rushing by, but it pelted upon
It bastardized her against the immorality of the nature
And she held up with no parole and desires…
She felt herself interred to the nature that despair.
The inquity that brigthened with thunderclaps and silver storm
She averted her fear and assailed against this rage
Acquainted herself with the nature she forefended
Pounded for few moments and synced with the lifelike stage.
She clapped, she laughed, she fantasied with the zesty consequence
She danced, she danced with the drops falling from the sky,
She sung her own rhythm catching her steps divine
The music prolonged as the clouds lightened and twittery lyrics whistled thereby.
Enduring the theme, she limned in her imagination
A life she yearned-for, A life she was not expecting
She painted in her heart an amorist she was looking for
Holding his hand she balled on the miry stage with pavan relieving.
The lust she felt over her drizzly body
Closed her eyes as she felt the touch of his lips on her belly
He took hold of her waist and she accured the fanciful time with reverence
She dangled holding the dampen trunk of a tree, and embraced her amorist
temptingly.
The flushing spirit that bestowed with mightiness and relief
She glittered with love, spirit, esteem and belief
All of a sudden she roused from her phantasies
Withal the monsoon girl lived her day, ceasing all her grief.
Categories:
phantasies, depression, happiness, imagination, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Oh! - Answered he, who is the sculptor of the forest's soul,
- I've lived in the songs and myths, in the hair
Of maidens who romanced me, and in my own nightmare.
There is an ellipsis right between an apotheosis
That submits the soul to a life-long worship, and a kindred mind.
Worship of what? Ex nihilio? Well, I see myself as no epigone
Of anything, in particular, but everything in general.
I am a hearer of ardent spirits that husband untouchable justice,
A pectus enkindled in thorns and brambles,
A visionary of phantasies in a hidden repository of probity,
Where I bade you to come with me onto this journey,
As I behold you, present before me, awash in
Licentious suggestions, as a well-wisher full of warmth,
And irresistible glow where no assiduity is being judged,
But conveyed when I call you to the helm.
The intricacies of silence, the ingredients of fatalism, and subordination,
Are characteristics and autonomous tendencies of certitude,
In my view, as I bestow the attributes of intuition that detect darkness,
And the darkness detects the evil you emit, and the evil is
“The thing-in-itself” according to Kant which I ruthlessly deny!
As a contrarian I advocate a different shape of intelligence,
Existent between absurdism and Quixotism, sparking my
Passion, bursting with desire to define eminence,
But leaving you to shape the soul of the forest,
Or good or evil in it, as it is your domain, your knight-errantry,
And I? I am only your occasional, lonely guest.
Categories:
phantasies, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse
I spake: "Thy love's grief dwelleth in my core,
A breast brim-full with sorrows, evermore.
So long as in my head thy tumult lies,
Vain phantasies I bear, by nights, by sighs.
An hundred years have flown, yet not thy grace;
Save grief of parting, naught is my embrace.
In vigil lone, my heart with blood was stained,
By rival's tyranny, in mire constrained.
My Ka'bah is the arch of thine own brow,
Beneath love's caravan, my back must bow.
Each glance of thine, an ocean vast displayed,
Yet shore I reach not, till thy mercy stayed.
O heart! what alchemy of love divine
Turned gold to copper-red and filled my soul?"
---
Explanatory Footnotes:
tumult – inner storm or turmoil of passion
vain phantasies – empty, hopeless dreams
grace – union, closeness, or favor of the beloved
in vigil lone – solitary devotion or retreat for prayer/meditation
in mire constrained – trapped in mud, symbol of helplessness
Ka'bah – the holy sanctuary in Mecca, the sacred center of devotion; metaphor for ultimate love
caravan – traveling convoy; here, "love's caravan" = the heavy burden of love
alchemy of love divine – the mystical power of love that transforms the soul
gold to copper-red – the paradox of love's transformation: precious becomes base, yet the soul shines brighter
Categories:
phantasies, cute love,
Form:
Ghazal