Best Phosphorescence Poems


Yellow Moutains

In my back, yellow mountains, glittering with a thousand bursts,
Of course, the sun has its incandescent magic
God is phosphorescence; his knowledge blinds all dogs and cats,
May the night be divine, when I leave my kingdom,

Who are we? Camel companions, desert companions,
Companions of eagles with millenary greenhouses and pointed,
Lost companions, by the splendor of our cities,
Who are we? Companions of the blue Bedouins,

We know about what only silence teaches us
We know only what God wants to hide from us,
We are companions of camels in the desert,
Behind our backs, yellow mountains, sparkle with a thousand bursts.

Premium Member The Spiral of Design

sacred life…
mortal as a seashell
cradled and designed by divine hands

swept by tides
over the waves of chance
phosphorescence under tender skies

hidden souls
within a spiral core
with lore of an ocean at thy breast

soft landings
upon the shoals of time
'till nestled in the palm of God’s hand



~~~~~~~~~~
Form: Verse

Premium Member whirlpool -

Abaft the beam the aberration spun
Below the turbid surface like a pearl
Commanding all attentions, overrun

Dissolving as colloidal midst the swirl
Encircled tons of matter as dissolved
Fierce vortices, toroidal in their whorl

Gesticulating with his mates, involved
Hypotheses suffused the captain's ire
Intense 'twas this anomaly, unsolved

Just as a jester moon dipped to retire
Kinetic phosphorescence flit the mast
Low on the mizzen, as St. Elmo's fire

Miraculous, a beam shone in its caste
Now tying ship to sea by water brake
On deck the crew were timidly aghast

Pervading all, their need to undertake
Quick means to thus escape adversity
Relinquishing to flee that eddy's wake

Surmising that the undertow would be
Too close to e'er escape its pearly skin
Unhesitant the captain plunged the sea

Virulent, boiled the brine, he in its spin
With sword held tight, defiantly above
Xiphoidals sliced the vortex from within

Yet with the ebbing sea his crew thereof 
Zeus in his glory, never knew such love.







~ 2nd Place ~  in the "Quirky Tercets" Poetry Contest, Nina Parmenter, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 3rd Place ~  in the "Abecedarian Contest" Poetry Contest, Caren Krutsinger, Judge & Sponsor.

( This form is called "ABC" or "Abecedarian", and it's also an Epic Terza Rima in Iambic Pentameter, with 10 syllables/line, counted @ HowManySyllables.com )


A Plasmatic Prisoner of Time

I am, for that I am a super-giant a magnificent monstrosity,
A ferocious fired fury beyond the Pillars of Creation;
With a billion breaths that burn within me, and yet I am;
A calamitous candle amidst the unending universe.
A plasmatic prisoner of time-a destroyer and creator…
I am a beacon of brilliant brightness, a raging radiance.
I exist within a balanced hydrostatic equilibrium,
Upon the fear of a gravitational collapse, yet I combust;
I have witnessed much destruction and many creations,
Nuclear fusion of hydrogen into helium keeps me bursting;
My rays of phosphorescence are no match for the darkness,
As my emanation comforts my children the rotating planets,
I grow weaker by the solar day for my exudation will expire me...
I am a bulb burning bright, a flashing flare about to go 

                  ((((((()))))))
             (((((((((((())))))))))
          ((((((((((((( ))))))))))))
        ((((((((((((         ))))))))))
       ((((((((((                 ))))))))     
       ((((((((((Supernova. ))))))))
        ((((((((((((         )))))))))))
         (((((((((((((((())))))))))))
           ((((((((((((())))))))))))
               (((((((((()))))))))
                   (((((())))))



June.29.2020
You are a star
Sponsored by~ Nina Parmenter

N/A for contest

Premium Member Souvenirs De La Mer

Soothing sliding silvered tides, fields of verdant; rolling co-inside..'

Beards of algae flow on wrecks, phosphorescence guilds the whitecap in flecks,

As a mirror shattered myriad shines, to uneven waves that crash in; times..'

Un-counted amounts of wash elapsed, endless etchings have surfs out; scratched..

I see the glimpses I hear that noise,  in awe; I observe the power and poise,

Atlantic grey-green, Indian serge, pacific hued, I need to re-visit & become re-clued

The saline reeks, there are nets of fish, tootling tugs, low tide rippling in meek.'

Memories crowds... Of golden sands..' Ice cream, picnic baskets; beer and bands..'
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member You Can Call Me Ray

Oh, to fly underwater - to ply the deepest oceans!
          To navigate sunbeams like temple pillars,
                    And moonbeams as fingers of soft, blue magic!
                              Squid lights dancing among their abyssal reach ...

To break the wake with a fin at night,
          Making the phosphorescence trace easy curves ...
                    Artful squiggles to hail the Milky Way above!
                              To explore the colors and vibrancy of the reefs,

Throbbing with life and vitality ... excitement and danger!
          Spinning and courting among the coral ...
                    To have the entire world's waters as my playground -
                              The keen bite of the cold, deep trench,

Teeming with food and plankton, rife,
          Or the joyous warmth of the Caribbean and South Pacific!
                    My fellow swimmers, of endless fascination ...
                              The sonorous bellows of the whales trembling,

The sweet songs of the dolphins, at play,
          The pulsing of the deep waters in storms,
                    And the peaceful, unshaken silence of a lagoon ...
                              To swim deep to the darkest, coldest depths,

And return to breach the surface - air-borne and majestic!
          Oh, to be a manta ray!
                    The gentle, giant birds of the water ...
                              The master swimmers and fliers of the sea!

Sleek, beautiful ... and lone.




~ 1st Place ~  in the "Your Favorite Animal In The Wild" Poetry Contest, Line Gauthier, Sponsor.


The Sea Is Calling

I smell the salty air coming from the sea
I hear seagulls squawking
I feel the sand burning my feet, but in a beautiful way
I see the bright blue wave trying to push the sand
I feel the heat coming from the bright yellow sun
I feel the air pushing me lightly
I see the sunset going down.

I see the reflection of the moon that looks like a man’s face
I see mermaids swimming by with the green bright phosphorescence
I hear nothing else, but the water going to my feet
I see a whale come out of the water, and trying to reach the moon with its tip of the nose
I see the green phosphorescence splashing with it
I feel….
The sea is calling
Form:

Premium Member The Scented Soul

The Scented Soul


I have encountered it before
wafting upon the breeze of life,
scent trail of a spirit’s being
aglow amid tormented night.

Phosphorescence of angel wings
flickering light of neon signs
celestial stick and apple chase
in search of colors without lines.

Thus does the gentle hint of spring
divulge the sweetness of bouquet
awakening from frozen heart
the prayers that icy hearts betray

attracted to the scent of soul
to bathe within its golden bowl.


Submitted to The Scent of Your Soul – Poetry Contest
Sponsor – Anthony Slausen
10/12/2014
Form: Sonnet

My Night

I saw the phosphorescence of those yellow lights
Take a journey in a world of pale
Crawling through the shadow of night
Struggled within the dew

The  essence create its own sketch
When the breezes of night try to ensnare
Night as the shadow of moon
Depict mysteries in a life's long labyrinth

Tonight I trapped within the dark
And the only breath of sanity that could bring the clue 
The clue upon the lost
The clue to find the true

Escape
Flee from all of the adversity 
Hide from the falsity 
And take a side to the maze of life's clarity

On the night that always whispers
On the night that never bothered
To the nights which always washed their existence under the moon
To the nights were washed elegance in overlay

Welcome to my night

Premium Member Anti-Poem - Snaking It To Venice

Anti-Poem — “Snaking It To Venice”

(Poet’s Instruction: Play “The End” by the Doors loudly, while reading this anti-poem)

it’s you and me baby inside this gliding duster
this ’74 green plymouth cruising machine blasting
spit fire and gasoline grenades into the LA sun
snaking it to venice on the santa monica freeway
passing pillsbury billboards and green verdigris 
doors music playing loudly on the duster radio dial 

taking us past the santa monica civic auditorium 
our rock pleasure palace under the ocean stars
fronted by the six high dudes straight as spears—
pylons of steel drum solos and marijuana memories
standing upward like skinny giants waiting to eat
hippie dudes and the bongo kings stand out front
polka-dotted chicks smile and pass running joints  

we’re riding the snake babe riding on main street
looking for the rock gods behind beaming glass walls
looking to hear boogie music with the mind jive girls
the van chicks craving a bong hit of columbian gold
looking to groove on organ sonics that weaken you
kidnap you with handcuffs for a ransom of lost time

now jim morrison shimmies into view with a beer
the boys play the end again in 1967 with amps blaring
the vox organ humming out electric mind lacerations 
as Ray Manzarek sits upright again on the melting stage
dig it baby, dig it there are no tomorrows no endings

it’s just you and me baby snaking it to venice beach
passing the dream palaces lit up with phosphorescence 
the sun pole-dancing there doing the cosmic bend-over 
the ’74 duster blasting spitfire and gasoline grenades

Basundia

Basundia, a glittering wonder of untamed raw Nature,
The pastoral splendour that reflects Eden in miniature.
The claret lychee-yards that stoop, stoop, stoop, stoop
With its branches, bunches that loop, loop, loop loop.

Blonde body of jackfruits dazzles green luminescence
Of grass-wet field as if with the golden phosphorescence.
The abundance of fruits fills the air with a dozy scent
So that thirsty drunkards of Nature can drink affluent.

The fresh air enters into the heart instead of the lung
And captivates that inner core, ever-new, ever-young.
The enchantress Basundia with her wands of Beauty,
Drenches the eyes of beholder with nectar of divinity.
© Osman Gani  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Pastoral

Its Inside Which Matters

"Something is to be discovered in you,

Nothing is to be added to you,

You are not a palatable dish but my life's greatest wish,

I will be in your soul for my whole,

Infinitesimally small,minute, diminutive, heart you have , my love,

I can't tell you reasons and not all this is treason,

Your my life's destiny as well as my greatest fantasy,

My life is yours and you are my destination,

Aggravation and provocation is to be expressed,

Just for you, Only for you,

Till Death and beyond,

Till space and infinity,

I don't blame "gravity",

I don't blame  "fate",

I encourage normal(force), my seducing love,

You are a magnet and I am your attraction,

You are my attraction and also my seduction,

I didn't know how to judge by what is inside,

I just saw your beauty through my gleaming eyes,

Wizard phosphorescence, sparkling seeing you,

This is the only reason I have abandoned you,

I miss you, miss you, my carcinogen,

Your the reason I am living,

Your my challenge I am facing,

You have detoxified me and I don't know what it is,

My body needs your presence to be seen,

Or else I will not be seen,

Promise you for infinite times,

I am seeing you from inside,

Just inside, insight, your my foresight,

I miss you,

Just miss you,

Am living just for you 

And my life is sophisticated and complicated,

I am becoming under-rated..

Help me for Heaven sake!!!!"
Form: Narrative

I Remember Beaches

“I Remember Beaches”


I remember beaches
hot white sand with crystal
blue water and phosphorescence
melting into everything

Salt on my face, on my lips
even my hair was drenched
in it.  There was so much sand
that I could have my pick of 
just exactly where I wanted
to place my towel ….

Lots of space, open space….
We’re talking, twenty five to forty
years ago now.  But now, 
the beach is a circus. 
A parade of jesters posing
for each other in costume.
So many tents and umbrellas,
in fact, 
I couldn’t see the waves.

Shocking to me it’s like the mall
or some sporting event.
A beach used to be a serene thing 
with wave sounds.  Not a cacophony
of blasting rap and towels 
so close, they almost touch.
It was hard for me, being older,
to walk upright and not step 
on girls with many tattoos and
hipster bathing suits perfectly posed
toward the sun.  Not friendly.

What has happened to this city?
The “City of Angels” is seemingly
a city for homeless and rich people.
Nothing else exists.  It saddened
me deeply.  I was once in my prime
here and there was room for all.
It was a paradise for surfing and 
boarding and just riding waves.
Actual “good music” was played
and people were animated and fun
and friendly

But, now, I am often shoved away 
so that someone else can get a
better seat on the bus.  Even whilst
I am holding up a Medicare card.
Or I take too long getting into the
grocery store with a cart.  I reach
for a basket.  I am verbally condemned.

The beach is here to promote gratefulness
people should be kind and gracious
they should want to help others
and offer what they can 
to help make life worth living

I’m losing faith……
Form: Ballad

Premium Member Mermaid

Silver flashes through ocean swells
sound ripples across the water
strolling the moonlight kissed water
surrender to nights sensual promise
foam breaks, mermaid soars resplendent
cobalt teal diamond skin shimmers
powerful tail propelling her way
phosphorescence trails behind
sea sparkles flitting in her wake
face startles, finely dotted aqua spots
thick lips pout, fierce, predatory
fiery orange and red markings
warrior lines swirling, cheek to neck
swims towards me, I’m awestruck
daggered teeth, transfixed
purple searing eyes, allured
flips mid-air, veers away to plunge deeply
her tail douses me in sea water
I laugh and marvel
savage beauty of the sea
silver flashes through ocean swells

Entered in “Give me your best new poem Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
Dated 12/10/2019
Placed 8th with thanks

Phosphorescence

Pisces
Jewelled and bright
Navigating the dark solitude
in their phosphorescent paths
Creatures of soft flight
beneath the sea

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