Best Picturesque Poems
Her persona is like
a portrait
of picturesque perfection,
embalmed in
bittersweet lavender,
unseen within depths
of tributaries of elixir.
If only they knew
the chaos that flows,
constrained in
a confined
gallery of grief.
Not everyone is
a master painter.
Some brush with brutal
bruised strokes,
provoking timeless
streams of
implicit secrets,
from crimson stains
on ivory satin,
where scents of juniper
evoke phases of
unpredicted phenomenons,
oblivious to chronicles
of forsaken tales,
which hide
beneath barriers,
many have struggled
to venture within.
But there is an artist
with a
pastel on his palette,
that can correct
her disfigured pigment.
He holds cryptic
calligraphic engravings,
veiled behind the inflamed
chamber of her heart.
He understands that her
spirit drowns when
winds are forceful.
How her
delicateness has
been sleeping
on withered roses,
wilted by
cruelest rays of a
summer
mourning
morning star,
Where bedtime stories
were puppeteered
by hurricanes
feeding on
fenceless vulnerabilities.
yet when
sleepless silence sings,
it can disturb
in reverberating
heavy metal screams.
So she echoes her trauma
through hurtful hisses,
poisoning with
vicious venom.
Her aura alters in
acrimonious attitudes
from serene sunshine
to furious gales.
She remains without
a grip on untamable
seasons of
unholy torture,
Only he knows the poem
in her eyes is the
last train home,
so he calms her
tempest temperament,
enabling hidden rainbows
in her mind to reappear.
He is a soothing
gemini night-flower,
even with outcries
of midnight thunder,
his patience resembles
raining jasmine water,
purifying
her murky waters,
into a crystallised milky-way
of kyanite desires,
guiding her
to swirl and swoon
into
whirlwinds of closure.
Summer resplendent sun glowing
in the photosynthesis of viridescent grass.
Waving blades like long fingers flowing,
the sudden sighing gusts come and pass.
The field lives palpable in the anamnesis.
I step through the Queen Anne’s lace,
I lay down on dense turf, where distress decreases,
Sun of repose wrings out pain, leaving no trace.
The field uncut, surrounded by trees,
shooshing wind mixes only with the hum of bees.
Lazy, balmy, timeless afternoon, grasshoppers leap.
Musty grass inhaled. I doze and fall asleep.
The field dandelions release seeds like cotton
floating on nuzzling breeze, landing, then begotten.
Burrowing moles hunt earthworms under soil.
Nests and mounds, why do ants tirelessly toil?
Toad hops by, pausing, inspecting for insects.
Sioux Nation meadowlarks sing of friendship
from the nearby woodland intersects.
Love by dissolving into field, my ritual worship.
At cool dusk, I awaken to cricket chitter.
Night’s canopy of cosmos is without dimension,
measureless. I am free and joyous in star glitter.
I merge with field habitat, awakening all sensations.
Published: Pick Me Up Poetry 10/22
Accepted for Publication, 11/2023: PoetrySoup Anthology Vol. III
Reflections on the Important Things
I smell the lushness; I smell green,
and what I see around me is a scene
where I’d expect to hear seclusion’s hush.
Instead, I hear the sound of water’s rush.
Sweet water’s rush, like nature’s symphony
is endlessly cascading lusciously!
So fresh I want to taste it on my tongue -
this endless stream of dewy diamonds flung
to rocks below, creating a white mist.
How many eons have these rocks been kissed
by virgin droplets of this waterfall?
I breathe serenity, soothed by it all.
Sept. 14, 2019 for Eve Roper's Picturesque Poetry Contest
autumnal picturesque (Haiku)
a quaking aspen
Fall leaves tumble to the ground
doves coo pleasant songs.
Dr Ko Ko Thein (U.S.A)
Salt Lake City
Behold the picturesque anachronism, attempting to control are lives.
A donkey and an elephant arguing before our very eyes.
A donkey and an elephant debating all their lies.
Multitudes of donkeys and elephants spreading filth, despite the cries.
We don't need security.
We don't need your laws.
We don't need technology.
We just want to live our lives.
We are humans, not elephants or donkeys-
take care of yourselves and leave us alone.
Take your imperial fascist agenda and shove it-
down your bloated holes.
...Where it will linger like the vomit you make us feel.
Behold the picturesque anachronism, the safari of concrete.
As civilization disbands and crumbles while humanity bows before their feet.
Bowing before their hooves, with their giant pocket books.
Society becomes a zoo, in servitude;
A slave to the status-quo.
A revenge of the animals, we once called our own.
- For those of you confused by this poem, anachronism is a euphemism for Anthropomorphism
which was too long a word to put in this poem.
Field and forest lay painted pearly white.
Nature unravels her artistic side.
Angels descend to view the peaceful sight.
Trees glisten with a smile full of pride.
Snow capped meadows welcome and do not chide.
The winter sun calls out for none to hide.
Peaceful people come out to laugh and play.
Cocoa and s'mores are made by the fire.
Majestic mountains host skiing all day.
In peace reigns this wintery empire.
Skate the lakes whose ice does not expire.
Hockey games are drawn down to the wire.
Fowl fly the sky; deer roam the forest floor.
Yak dwell with monks on the high mountain top.
Love highlights the mistletoe evermore.
Snowmen come to life, no one tells them: stop.
Wolves become puppies, aggression they drop.
Rabbits fear them not. They share the same spot.
Observe the snap shot of this winter land.
May this time of peace on earth stand so grand.
12/26/2018
Winter Wonderland Poetry Contest
Emile Pinet
Let's talk about the picturesque beauty of autumn
Of the chiming bells of the Angelus
Of the flowers once pretty and strong, on the lawn
Oh! Autumn, you are a very superb season!
Let's talk about the petals and sepals fallen from the sky
Where the trees are stunned and almost undressed
And the astonished birds which have fallen from the clouds
Oh! Autumn, I love your wondrous and natural smile.
The season of autumn has a sensational scene
A warm and comfortable freshness and a solemn tone
It is the gold of the evening that falls all day long.
It’s the multi-colored leaves and flowers on the vents
Oh! Autumn, you give us much to imagine
And show us how to mimic mystic and golden moments.
Copyright © October 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of numerous collections of poetry.
Where to place the rippling paint uponthe whitish canvas, setting on a beast of burden,with a palette of bright watery pastels loadedLike a multicolored flower, a masterpiece of its own,lifting the paint and pulling, the first strokeI am bristling with excitement of where,this crosshatching idea of a painting should goSqueezing the crinkled tube to addanother color to cover my Venetian lagoonDry brushing a marmalade sunset sinking,into a greenish seaNakedly dipping into shades, that only I can only imagine,casting a little shade here and there cannot hurtMistakes are easily hidden with a few strokesThe undertone is on purpose, for the commissioncomes from Lady Contesta, a lacey discreet loveTo bring this, stippling but quaint portrait, to an endI sign with my secret pen near the gondola,on the bricola, Burano 6/17/2017
Flying high, touching the hues, of daylight end, heavenly peace,
Moving sand, writing with heart, and hang onto, see waves erase,
Am I real, imagination, Picture perfect, my dream ?
Summer love, a treasure trove, heat rises to, a newer high,
Bubbly self, sojourns beside, ever I heave, a deeper sigh,
Dream come true, A fascination, an illusion, factual ?
Written on 2/6/14
Sijo strings - 15/15/15, 15/15/15
Contest- Sijo strings
Sponsor- Debbie Guzzi
Awarded 5th place
A picture's worth a thousand words
But this one's worth much more
Two angels that I knew and loved
Two birds about to soar
They changed me when I needed change
And taught me how to talk
They fed me when I had to eat
And taught me how to walk
I learned these things and even more
Of life that I should know
I put these pieces in their place
As life began to grow
It's sad to say they're not here now
They live inside my mind
I'm glad to say I've found a wife
Who's equally as kind
I now look back upon our life
And how they made me glad
I'm proud to say that they're the ones
I call my Mom and Dad
Rockman
a crimson ball of fire
descending in the unknown
mirroring on the roaring seas,
lofty mountains standing undeterred
silhoeutting enchantingly against the blushing azure,
glimpses of trio of birds
their flight, promising no horizons,
pruned trees dancing in
esoteric merriment,
leaves rustling gently
in the zephyr
their whispers indecipherable,
Clouds parting and
then again embracing
enthralling colossus imagery,
stars blinking in
awesome awareness
sharing knowing smiles,
an aura of tranquility and gay,
what a contentment!
To live life
amidst nature's simple
bliss of living..
I wake up this morning to a cloud of smoke lingering from the nightly bush fires of the mind;
I have been reminiscing but perfect answers to soothe my soul, I could not find
I feel this sharp prick in my heart, something on which I shouldn’t feed
Otherwise those cold thorns of void will make this heart bleed.
I drag myself to my work desk, trying to embrace some productivity
But my eyes grace pixels, several years old yet quite young in my memory.
I dare to pick the frame up; beautiful indeed!
I visualize flashes of the road taken; and I smell that familiar fragrance of love’s seed.
PICturesque !!..
What is a painting!
if not priceless beauty
granting transportation
to dreamy zones
Pondering the amazing talents
Brush, hand and artist
A long sigh
awareness of feet floating
as he stands
relaxed in-front
this captivating piece
Genuine handiwork
What is a photo!
if not a
fond memory
Pocket-sized purse fillers or
easily viewed
framed mantle-piece treasures
Colour the favoured selection
flourishing vivid detail
Some classic black & white
still illustrated
and so fortunately
appreciated
Naturally PICturesque!!.. ^__^
Radiant dawn verily blessed by God
reflect His artistic wonders, beautifying mornings
assuring days --- triumphantly jubilant.
Through virtual exposure
I behold glorious twilight commencement
marked with crimson tints along scarlet red clouds…
Iridescence of tangerine blaze
subdues aquamarine firmament midst
saffron hues highlighting summer dawn brilliance…
Awed am with the elegance of coral pink
intensifying watermelon luster on charcoal gray sky
featuring the skyline of a free country…
For splendor of nautical dawn
gleaming gold reigns as lemon yellow peeks
blended with chartreuse rays…
Indeed, my heart praises the Creator while His majesty shines
accentuating afterglow of lilac midst prevailing maroon
and lingering gentleness of lavender.
*Psalm 130:6 My soul waiteth for the Lord more than they that watch for the morning: I say, more than they that watch for the morning.
April 18, 2021
9th place, "Changing Colors" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet; judged on 4/19/2021.
Roars satin bright twilight lions grows night and morn ~ Prevails somber dark's honor fades conquered by ~ Purr's cheerful day rolling playing the way Love wins ~ By John Beam for THAN-BAUK A TWILIGHT Free Poetry Contest