Best Pinpoints Poems


Star Gazing

A bazillion stars twinkle in the night
sky; pinpoints on black velvet, perfect
jewels created by the universe
for us to gaze upon in wonderment.
Categories: pinpoints, space
Form: Iambic Pentameter

Premium Member Goosebumps

i’ve goosebumps
   bold and shrill
      pinpoints that peak

my arms once relaxed
   and warm
but shadows reveal
boy and father silhouettes 

alongside the jagged fireplace stone
and a           creaking uttered
in the bowels of the floor       underneath.

   i’ve goosebumps
      bold and shrill
         pinpoints that peak

i slowly
breathe
an icy breath
as if
room temperature’s
dropped
                            below freezing.

         i’ve goosebumps
           bold and shrill
              pinpoints that peak

recalling
how my cousin
saw

the               chair
                       rocking
with                     nobody there.

                  i’ve goosebumps
              bold and shrill
  pinpoints that peak

but from my innermost place,
                i slap myself
      a couple times:
‘put your big girl panties on’

i turn up the lights
    *broadway on steroids*

and call down peace.
for though i can believe in such things,
      my greater belief
supersedes.

my arms
are once again warm —
   flesh and blood
prevails!

11/6/2019
Goosebumps Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Delilah Ventura
Categories: pinpoints, scary,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member My Muse

My Muse 

This muse – personal trainer of my pen,
 This restless spirit pacing in imagination’s sanctuary,
Gathers fleeting moments into anticipation’s tabernacle
Swaddles divine laughter, brooding gloom and holy fire
With scented leaves from her perfumed garden
 Hallowed space clothed in inspiration
  Where my love and loss embrace in genesis
Shooing away paralyzed procrastination 
To transcend into creation lyrics and lines
 In a cloistered hermitage of rhymes and rhythms
Drifting through defiant midnight in dopplers
 With ultrasound colors of fading rainbows
  Like pinpoints of ice or fleeting romantic dews -
   Drawn from vaults of the eternal’s benediction –
    Waking my insomniac meditations
So in my deafness I may hear her abiding presence,
 In mystical and magic lines like prisms glow
Follow through
  Dusky passages of visions
   Poetic shame tattooed in rust
Enthralled by
   Her faceless sacred songs played in my heart
So we join hands 
Then lift our tousled words in nude prayers and pleas
 In the unbroken sacramental circle of life
  Cried to the four winds, seas and oceans
 To praise the infinite everlasting.

1-4-23
Categories: pinpoints, inspiration, muse,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


The Dreams Follow

"The Dreams Follow"

We are on loop replay
sleeping to wake again,
morning, sunlit, shines 
through the blinds,
sparkling dust columns
dancing in front of our eyes,
where each particle 
plays its part alighting 
in front of us bright 
as diamonds pétillant,
spiralling forever spiralling,
the messengers dance
before our eyes
but we fail to comprehend
the poetry circling around us
like a water colour drip feeds 
this bleeds into our day, a canvas,
we write away time 
we write away 
we write away
our time,
codes for dissemination
for those off page;
like an army of ants, words walk 
in strange black lines over
everything, pinpoints scattered 
with no relevant formation,
we are all abstract,
but there is meaning 
in the contrast and 
the story lines somehow
are connecting, connecting,
connecting like nights and days 
all too fast, 
the midday hour strikes
a chord, like spaghetti
we eat it up, fresh pasta
with basil, juicy tomatoes
crushed, the onions 
are necessary, 
purple and spanish,
the sweetest prose, 
don’t forget the 
paremesan, 
cheese, we smile 
like we are wasting away,
lunchtime matters the most
somehow, it’s a mark 
in the middle road
we've come this far,
we stand, hesitating 
to grab each other’s hand,
singular we know 
we are inevitably alone, 
we continue down the road
walking towards the detour;
evening fast approaches,
we close our eyes, 
last prayers are thoughts
expressed to measure 
where next we go
should we not wake;
that which we love
now safe, tucked away;
we measure our days 
in nights of closure,
as if in the morning 
there is no waking,
there is no morrow;
we roll over 
we roll over,
the dreams 
follow


(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
Categories: pinpoints, journey, muse,
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Fondling the Light

At last, the traffic comes to a halt…
the quarter moon peeps between hill tops
as a lingering sigh pinches my flesh—
half weary, half shimmering
in hours moist with late afternoon’s
need for quietude. Clearing
my mind to embrace sweet ardor's mist
and the fire of gentle touches, I feel 
all the pinpoints of his affection tingling  
my softened face numbed by toil,hours before.
Resting a bit to capture hints
of stillness borne from the wake of a temporal
star, we gather each other --- fondling the light,
inhabiting the pleasure of now. 



...................
Contest: Laura Loo's Free Verse About Love--
New or Old
Posted 1/12/2016
Categories: pinpoints, blue, night, peace,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Lattice of Monet

Pinpoints of lightened tones blush in grace
with  impressionistic  smudges…
ornate yet mellow like hues
glistening fine textures
on Monet’s lattice,
breathing  alive
as I soak
in his
oil !


………….

Brian Strand's Contest No 219, Max 14 lines
Painting: Pathways in Monet's Garden
In Giverny 1902
Categories: pinpoints, art, imagery,
Form: Nonet


Premium Member Such Earthy Joy

At last, metro’s traffic comes to a halt…
the quarter moon peeps between hilltops
as a  lingering  gladness warms my flesh—
half steady, half shimmering
when early evening’s air 
 prances  like fine  gauze, shedding 
time’s need for revelry. Unzipping
my mind  to surrender to the upbeat
tempo of  glittering dusk naked in
earthy  bliss, I feel all the pinpoints 
 of the sky tingling  on my limbs
numbed by rind’s toil. Resting a bit
to groove with merriment
borne from the wake of laughing stars, 
 my limbs pirouette with the rhythm of wildflowers
 fondling the light, embracing the
pleasure of now ...and to dance, dance joy!



Trashed #2 Contest
Sponsor: Broken Wings
By nette onclaud
9/12/2015
Categories: pinpoints, joy,
Form: Light Verse

Morning Rush Hour

The image of morning mapping from the four cardinal points at the center of 
busy pedestrians running ups and down to the bottom of their energies, 
Chasing the note they never designed to decimate 
ownership.

The smiling morning bubbling their imagination to the high magnitude of 
Success languishing behind heart seeking to control situation to the center 
of the market, number of desperate merchandises queuing to drink their 
Imagination protruding bellies where Satan jolts their hearts to refine 
thirty with disastrous desires.

The noise is enough to tantalize the talon of termites boiling at the 
center hopping to solve dove segmented wants which never will be OK to 
Occurrence of the occupation that too schlock to crumble tantamount to 
desire of the heart.
Despite the pain still depicted on his hustle still never give up searching 
the treasures that he never keeps no he pinpoints the right place, but just 
Living in dilemma of success rocked of magenta quill of shaving beard.

The center of plying to control the Flocks moment of people from all 
Angles, prices are bargain with sometimes smile with sometimes waged with 
Sadness, the sanity of controlling the market trends is far from certain.

Stalls from left to right which drank the movements of people from one 
Place to the other impossible night mad with workaholics perambulating with 
Stitches ideas like the mountains of women flashing around with eagerness 
to cook the dinners for husbands paying the prices for being too long away from home.

I blame the desires that preoccupied the daily lives of individuals 
Superseding with treasures that don't accompany neither nor accomplish your 
  Bills for the prayers you missed and messed your time behind rouged   
the Treasures that still is your colonial master.
Categories: pinpoints, courage, perspective, remember,
Form: Alliteration

Dot To Dot

I'll begin my dot-to-dot journey at first light
when dawn paints the sky after darkness of night.
Dots like stars on the horizon will be pearlescent hues
all interlaced with shades of pastel lavenders and blues.

From that mark my tracing would take me aloft
to view the sea whose waves are curled and coifed.
A ribbon of specks then bounces from beach to beach,
where upon sandy shores the sea's fingers flow to reach.

To granite cliff tops my next dots would climb
where I'd walk in heathered meadows for a time.
Each step a new spot where my dotted tracings align.
The next ones will lead me to an evergreen forest of pine.

On soft pine needles, several dots will outline a bed,
and four more to make a soft pillow for my weary head.
I'll laze for a while, drawing more dots from flower to flower
until I travel along on the pixeled road for hour beyond hour.

My journey will be unscripted. The dots will have no plot.
They will ramble and scramble to wherever I choose to trot.
Inside a starting gate of horses, ready to race on a dirt track.
On and on I'll draw dots and never once bothering to look back.

More dots will I need as soon as the moon appears,
for not being able to reach her fills my heart with fears.
I'll stipple many pinpoints from moonbeam to moonbeam,
then follow with more of them from stars with a silvery gleam.

From morning's pale horizon, onto midnight's crest,
I'll make my way through the day then stop for a rest
to plan an alternate route to bring me back home again.
One that takes me winding through clouds and a gentle rain.


November 15, 2022
Dot to Dot Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kim Rodrigues
Categories: pinpoints, how i feel,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Ecstasy In Summer

Pinpoints of wild  rosette deepen the view
Into a field where blossoms flaunt their shade;
When August basks to  grace our passion anew
Imbuing  laced ecstasy …   a rich brocade.

In fragrant whiffs renewing  thrill of hours
Mild the sunset , bolder the lustrous tints
While we caress   kiss    glide on sky’s towers--
To lend our ardent  love  its flamed imprints.

Gently,  dusk comes in earthen-colored flight
Till you stutter warm lines … begging for  my hand:
O  fireflies  gleam  in riots of delight,
A vow enkindling such pious demand.

From the raging wake of a  new moon’s  shine
I  quiver    to praise blest summer, divine!



Summer Love Sonnet Contest
Sponsor: John Hamilton    5/16/2018
Checked via www.howmanysyllables.com
Categories: pinpoints, devotion, summer,
Form: Sonnet

Two Old Gods

TWO OLD GODS

Two old men.
That’s all; not much to look at.
Their frail, broken shadows shrunk against the sunny morning
Brightness slowly searching its way through gnarled branches
Overhead, and crisscrossing the red and black pieces
Upon their welcoming checkerboard.

I placed a solitary peanut into the waiting hands of a small, grey squirrel.
Withdrawing my offer of other gifts, I moved away;
Drawing closer to hear their wrinkled voices still
Clamoring over the last move of their deadly waiting game;
Spattering salty remarks with knowing chuckles of old combatants
Echoed former rattlings of their rusty swords.

Beneath their stubby beards sat the once strong, 
Straight line of a stubborn jaw, thrust at life;
Hot for the chase that breached the perimeters of grand arenas
As Time swept aside the long-suffering hours
And slowly chiseled away massive, symmetrical bone.

They had been young, sensuous men with lapping fire at their cores,
Melting away the wet walls of passion and the searing, sticky
Sting of a promising, promiscious tongue.
Yes, their passion was still lingering there,
Below the masks of debilitating age and cracking stone.

Their passion for life and pleasure still written across their
Wrinkled, wincing brows clearly there for anyone to read.
I wondered how many summers those faded eyes had squinted
Against a broiling sky and felt the power of that which they are---
Two old gods, sitting in the ruins of their shadowy kingdom passed,
Oblivious to the ticking of unearthly clocks.

Two faded, gnarled and twisted husks sat in peaceful friendship
Beneath the cool and darkening, park lined sky.
Below the surface of their shabby shrouds, pinpoints of eternal, celestral light
Sought the vaporous freedom of untethered ether.
Beneath the surface, the gods still flexed their mighty,
Quiescent muscles, forever young: aged mantles flung
Against Time’s eroding shores and fog misted dangerous rocks.
Categories: pinpoints, death, old, old, passion,
Form: Dramatic Verse

Triumph

Triumph
                             Frank Halliwell
In silence, in the velvet night,
lit by pinpoints of vivid light,
I wander blindly to the south,
immersed in frigid seas.
My age is lost in time's shadows,
..in aeons of primeval snows,
Borne from the Greenland glacier fields,
far from the warm land breeze.

My drift; by currents is maintained;
my course; by fate is preordained,
Before midnight I drift inside..
the busy shipping tracks.
A lookout spots me in the dark,
a radio transmits the spark.
I am reported to the world
and cautious souls react.

But from the east this winter night,
a black colossus steams in sight,
Racing to the west despite
the danger waiting there!
Her goal is shipping dominance,
her high speed fueled by arrogance,
Before the night is over,
the result will be despair.

I wait, and I feel no remorse,
in spite of the collision course,
For I am just a passive player
in this deadly play.
They've seen me now, but much too late,
and there is no escaping fate,
A glancing blow is struck and leaves
her plates in disarray!

My mass absorbs the mighty shock;
my body solid as bedrock.
I shatter not, nor tremble
as the ship glances away.
The icy water rushes in,
filling compartments to the brim.
Fifteen hundred doomed to die
seek refuge in dismay!

But there is none; nowhere to go,
the frigid water is the foe!
The ship is listing badly now;
the end is near at hand!
Lifeboats are lowered with all speed,
but are too few to fill the need.
'Nearer my God to Thee' is heard,
played by the doomed ship's band..

The stern rises above the waves,
then plunges to her watery grave,
A plume of air and flotsam mark
the place of her long dive.
Water too cold to sustain life,
kills them as surely as a knife,
And in a mere ten minutes
none of them are left alive!

The cries and shouts and prayers have ceased,
the sea returns to lonely peace.
The engineering triumph rests
among the crabs and snails.
The news is spread around the world
and flags at half-mast are unfurled,
Fifteen hundred families
are left to weep and wail.

In silence, in the velvet night,
lit by pinpoints of vivid light
I wander blindly to the south
immersed in frigid seas.
My age is lost in time's shadows,
..in aeons of primeval snows,
Borne from the Greenland glacier fields,
far from the warm land breeze.

>>> Titanic is gone. 
                   ***
Categories: pinpoints, world,
Form: Rhyme

Why, Oh Why, My Mom, Don'T See My Cry

'O' mom, O' mom..
Am sweet baby,
Thou love the most;
Mom a preceptor and
Play partner of mine;
Cohere me in arms,
Never left alone;
Inspired me in each stage,  
Taught me from crawling,
To walk then talk;
Stage by stage I learned
All primary needs of life;

Situation changed,
When reached at 4,
Mom shoved me to school, 
From play school to Lkg, Ukg,
Then to grade one and so on..,
In my play and learning age;
Why, oh why, my mom,
Don't see my cry;
I carry load of books,
More than my weight;
The purpose don't know yet;
I learn more, while I play,
Than cramming bulky filthy books;
As a cub learns chasing prey,
While in play with mom;

The torture doesn't end here;
I go to tuition, copy and paste, 
From the books to brain;
Cram lessons over and over,
Rehearse verbally and write, 
Until Ego of mom or teachers,
Is quenched;

Scares me, haunts in dreams too, 
The stress and mental agony, 
Is severely painful and tiring;
The pain I endure,
During school and home work,
Is more torturing,
Than hardship of a child worker,
In farm or factory;

Can you spare us some freedom,
For our own dream, creative plays,
To evolve our own instinct;
We are kids, don't bury us,
Under your snide ego,
And heavy unneeded books;
As even eagle before the prey,
Pinpoints distance, speed, timing,
And agility of the prey and self,
Without the help of mathematics
In books;
Animals too know the saving, 
Leftover for future,
After quenching hunger,
Without the books of economics,
We are taught;
The experience teaches,
Than the books; 

© sadashivan nair
Categories: pinpoints, baby, books, children, education,
Form: Prose Poetry

In Blue

The evening sky rests upon a cobalt blue comforter 
As pinpoints of light descended downward through the heavens 
Constellations standing steadfast in a slow drift 
As the earth rotates slowly beneath them 
From Orion to Ursa Major 
They stood together for the casual viewer 
I have often wondered how that star that stands alone 
Feels in its seclusion 
Sometimes the loneliest star shines the brightest 
But will we appreciate its beauty? 
Lost in a cast of “billions” 
Some have long burned out 
Appearing only as a memory 
Passed on from light years away 
Diamonds that glitter in an endless sky 
A voice that drowns in its silence 
As planets tiptoe slowly 
an eternal dance unfolds 
In Blue
Categories: pinpoints, naturelight, star, light, sky,
Form:

Firefly

"As twilight falls across the glen 

Pinpoints of light rise again

Flashing beacons in the night

More begin to rise a beautiful sight

A symphony of light commences they start to dance

Lifted by silken wings and winds of chance

An ocean of yellow stars twinkling for all to see

Drifting free in perfect harmony

Children's laughter now fills the night

Dashing here and there catching all in sight 

Decanters filled with living lights

Lightening in a jar candles of delight

Finally the spectacle is over and they rise into the night

Release the ones you have children let them continue their flight 

They open their containers and out as one they fly

Into the night like starbursts in the sky

The glen is quiet the lights are gone

Don't worry children I say it won't be long

Rise again they will with their lights of song"

Jon J
© Jon Jones  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: pinpoints, children, nature, night,
Form: Rhyme
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