Best Pirouetting Poems
Dancing in space
Waltzing in the universe
Pirouetting on cloud banks
Aah yes
Come with me
Let’s dance together
Ancient flute notes echo
Amidst starshine and lost memories
I feel you there beside me
Peeking around planets
Your eyes seeking me out
Our fibers entwined
Through passion and loss
Our unspoken words
Spun like gold thread
Around our bleeding hearts
An inhale ~ a memory
Meeting you in the ocean
Immersing ourselves in blankets of mist and fog
Lavender foam adorned with turquoise sparkles
Glinting off wave tips
My nakedness enveloped
Salty tears
My mouth open
Searching for you
I walk through time
Through walls of water
The waves part
As I find my way
Inward
Onward
To the sacred place within
I feel the air ~ quiet now
My fingertips sense my surroundings
I smell your heartbeat
In darkness my palms touch yours
A vibration of heat
Of laughter
Of knowing
Of ancient memories
Coupling our souls
Forever
I
love
walking
at midnight
as moonlight shadows
dance on the inky blue ocean
and watch as they sparkle and shimmer like tiny stars,
pirouetting gracefully like prima ballerinas with the ocean as their stage
9/3/19
Writing Challenge 1, September 2019 - Eight Line Form
Sponsor, Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode
Checked with PS Syllable counter 1,1,2,3,5,8,13,21
In the valley
of violin vines,
when the saffron sun ascends,
and crooning clouds
drift in mulberry cadence,
I let my quivering quill harmonize
mystical moonbeams
splattered across
hushed horizons~
with sparkling strings
of stardust,
as ink paints a
panorama of primrose promises,
from spring scented
sonatas scattered
in symphonic hues
of sangria syllables,
thawing
frost-clutched fauna,
while butterflies flutter
amongst floating florals,
depicting whispers
of my hyacinth heartbeat.
But something about
the way sakura
blossoms fall like rain,
traces picturesque
lines of my
lyrical confessions,
composed like
a chromatic chorus,
that savors
kismet kisses,
of a love woven
with
twinkling
tendrils in
tangerine twilight,
and when you
return like
pirouetting jasmines,
I feel the
ambrosial aura
of Persephone
emerge from
the darkest
caves of Hades,
bringing back
empyrean euphoria,
and here I let
nature unfurl
a choir of
singing sunflowers
and waltzing wisterias,
performing
classical serenades,
amidst trumpet trees
sprouting ivory petals,
in dulcet idioms,
veiling toxic tales.
But today,
as rays of gold
adorn my skyline,
I think of tender truth
transcribed in
theatrical tunes,
like
zenith of zealous zephyr
eternally rippling
blue rose breeze
across Monet’s
balmy meadow.
Somethings are best
said through blank
scriptures in sheer
silence, but pulling the
violin strings of
a poet strumming
to personify pain,
with tempests of
torment rushing
through thin veins,
would only widen
twisted tunnels for
ink to bleed in
vermilion lines of
broken thunder.
For these lungs have
long thickened
from scraps of
pretend promises,
to dress them
with mountains
of flawed flowers,
oblivious to the colors
that suffocate,
black hearted devils
hovering above
treetops of tainted roots.
And when the
angel of death
descends to steal
the steel within my
mind,
I question the vampire
grey hearts that kneel,
to raven midnights
beating tunes
of truth across
glacial valleys
of mourners.
Why is living a
gruesome terror?
Where artless spirits
sleepwalk along
olive lawns,
as grass snakes
sing deceptive
schemes-
with the reaper
that strolls through
a funeral of fairies,
collecting weathered
wings
and bleached skeletons
buried six feet under the
graphite soils of salvation,
confined within garden
graves of deception,
designed In unearthly
roses dipped in poison.
If only the sun would rise
and see,
how I am no longer
plagued by the vision
of you destroying peace
within your kingdom
of hypocrisy.
I am not your puppet
pirouetting through
hellfires ignited
by the thorny knuckle
of a megalomaniac—
chanting manipulative
mantras of a destiny,
devised from disorientation.
I will always sing my own stars
amidst suppressed scars,
until the moon trembles
and falls
into the heavy depths
of grieving seas
streaming in salty sapphires.
L i f e
a prison of pretense
and I still dream of
walking through tempests of chaos
barefoot,
allowing stones and pebbles
to tattoo my languid skin with love in lilac,
as ashes of yesterday
erase the thunder marks
that struck my spine
in ruthless rhythm,
oblivious to the scorching solitude
that swallowed the stars
swaying across the heinous horizon.
Trusting the tormentor,
dancing with the devil,
as I drink from the naive springs,
like a jailed jasmine,
to Stockholm syndrome.
I’ve heard the crickets croon,
I’ve felt the warmth of raining tears,
while w a i t i n g
w i s h i n g
upon pirouetting peridots~
a trick played by Lucifer,
as peace is a lie
fed from the serpentine scent of sunlight
that tastes like mists of malice…
Tonight I kneel
at the chapel of charades,
reminiscing fragmented forests
where I’ve long been
a forbidden lace of Lilith,
cursed by the fickle flames
of the blood moon,
like a tortured sin,
tethered by time…
O divine destiny,
designed with darkness,
see the angst,
veiled amidst contoured clemency
and manicured mercy,
the beginning
of an inevitable end.
I fear not the hereafter~
the realm of redolence and zephyr,
there phrases of regret
shall be a rinsed-away garden,
watered with saffron and amber…
Perhaps
when the last refrain of living
rewinds and repeats,
we’ll reflect
on the circus we performed in sheer naivety…
But would you then~
catch my soul, it’s willing to fly away,
feel my pulse, it emanates freedom,
heed my heart, it sings of love,
seize my ink, it flows with faith,
catch my sigh, it homes compassion,
hold my hand, it seeks kindness…
Hallowed be thy Name
Hallowed be thy Light....
L i f e
I sense your perplexed pulse
within pirouetting pearls,
steeped in sinister streaks,
while fading sparks
of dulcet stars
swing from threads of darkness
on the verge of vertigo,
living in minutes
caught in the crawling contradiction
of tainted t i m e…
O’ f r a g i l e hummingbird,
I hear the hushed hymns
hovering through the ebony haze,
awaiting unlocked gates
adorned with regal rubies,
reflecting heaven that
sings of the sacred.
For in your lonely serenade,
in bittersweet solitude,
you raise fatigued feathers
to the alluring azure,
to heed the heartbeats
of the halcyon haven,
amidst your spirit
drowning in dreariness,
soaked in sadness,
counting cursed crystals
as blessings from the essence
of this endless enigma~
d r e a m gliding in drowsiness,
drenched in midnight terrors,
flowing between technicolor tercets,
etched in obsidian tears
within the raven prose
of Edgar Allen Poe,
oblivious to the table set,
serving chalices
brimming with
moonbeams and hope,
as you’ve long tasted
toxic embers from hellfires,
in a satanic sphere that knows
not the ingredients of peace,
consumed with hate and prejudice,
perhaps prewritten
from ashes seized
from the Hades inferno,
a spring stolen from the
valleys of dancing daffodils.
So let me waltz
beyond constellations of cruelty.
It’s too late to save the world,
to color the globe in lime green
and blooming blue,
as there is no winning
when the devil sits
on a throne of fickle flowers,
where snakes slither
through the narcissistic eyes
of the emperor~
dressed in deception,
eager to rule the weak and naive
with nothing but the scorching
heat of the serpentine sunsets,
bleeding venomous verses
upon your canvas
that pleads and prays
for compassionate clemency.
I feel the rising
of the merciful moon,
embracing the wolverine warmth,
filling the emptiness between
wicked lines,
k i s s e d by the weeping wind,
as purple phrases across pastel pages,
immortalize the poetic need to
paint the world with l o v e and lilac...
As the glistening jewels
of snow cascade like
ballerinas pirouetting
to the crescendo of time,
choreographed from porcelain
keys of your h e a r t,
delicate fingers of the
winter moon stretch,
enveloping forlorn footprints
of poignant memories,
framed with petal-like poems
you've placed in the
gallery of my melancholic mind
where soulless shadows still~
haunt me in holographic
hues through somber nights, but
If I were to rewrite the anatomy
of this romance with~
juxtapositions, should I rescript
your promises in p s y c h e d e l i c ink?
knit silken sonnets from the
tapestry of scintillating
stars in our favour,
letting go of all the
seasonal silhouettes
that seized redolent rhymes,
maybe, it is from pain
we relearn to dream
in periwinkle pigments to
nurture and navigate through
decayed gardens embalmed in
opalescent tears and fluorescent fears
suppressed and
personified within gossamer
tales of sunflower s i l e n c e…
Quilted with questions that your
quintessential quill can~
reveal, in romanticised verses, to wade
through the abstracts of weary woes.
So, set your stones to
architect cobalt grey lanes,
to usher feathered thoughts into the
serenity of your scented sanctuary.
until I find the perfect gateway
adorned with crystals in the
verdant valleys, engrossed in vanilla flakes,
where cosmic yearnings are embroidered
between mauve instruments
harmonised from
xylophone whispers reverberating
in vermilion s t i l l n e s s…
You will always be the
clementine crown of my sun,
the scarlet scrapes in my ink,
zested in zealous dahlias
and no rain can drown
this celestial
c o l l a b o r a t i o n…..
Dance me to the moon
on a wintry day of snow
and glistening light
Hold me in your arms
and make me swoon
like love does on a winter tide
Beneath a parapet of stars
where baby deer do scamper
without fright,
sway me like a leaf on a branch
when pirouetting winds arrive;
Lacey touch soft as velvet
on my shoulders fair,
draw me closer to your breast
keep me warm inside the winds
of this candy cane December.
Set my heart aglow
dance me to the end of me,
then twirl me round and round
like a fancy carrousel
I will be your wintry moon,
and you can be my savant star.
What is this dance that we do?
First you spin me; I twirl with delight
Captivated by your attentive gaze
Then you back away as I move toward you
So many times we’ve been on this floor
One step forward, two steps back
Movements that confuse a foolish heart
Often I feel I’m dancing alone
Still I keep dancing to reach you
Each time I draw near, you retreat
And still it seems you want me to stay
For an eternity drawn to a love unrequited
My dancing shoes I place on a shelf
Along with my dreams, pieces of myself
Perplexed by your desire to continue
Pirouetting toward the unknown
*Revised Feb. 11, 2021
For Craig's "Foolish Heart" Contest
My choir director
is a painter
a music stand her easel
the choir loft her frame
her canvas is the air
we breathe in
and synchronously exhale
Sixteen voices are her paints
organized by color palettes
low ebony hues down there
bright primary tones over here
complementary colors placed in between
the accompanist creates a background wash
under her attentive ear
Following her calling with tenacity and talent
her hands pirouetting like ballerinas
expressive decisive intentional
coaxing cohesive chorales
conversing with the rhythm
she paints a sacred symmetry of
sanctified synergy in sound
// for Janet, my beloved choir director and bride of 35 years //
written 2 Aug 2020
Soft lights with warm winds pirouetting in time
whispering its music so perfectly in rhyme
Hearts searching, ever searching for love's sweet caress
Wishing, ever hoping, to so tenderly possess
Moonlight in concert reflecting its bliss
Starlight's twinkle, a pretentious first kiss
Hearts searching, ever searching for love's sweet caress
Wishing, ever hoping, to so tenderly possess
The concert of summer called gently your name
Softly, by this music into my life you came
Hearts searching, ever searching for love's sweet caress
Wishing, ever hoping, to so tenderly possess.
08/10/2018
Summer Breeze Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
In silence, when darkness
envelopes the sky,
unlock the glass windows
of your mind,
forgive the stars
that veiled their silver,
for it is in times of
confusion and calamity,
we paint our own
rose wine twilight,
that scintillates beyond
fleeting fog of time and sanity.
Sometimes, we forget to
appreciate nature’s performance,
as life seems to be a
black gold theatre of
manipulative mantras.
We rise as actors dressed in
dancing stripes of integrity,
pirouetting like a merry-go-round
of lights, guiding our destiny.
Where melodramatic monologues
of melancholic laws
remain tucked away deep,
beneath a charismatic mattress
woven across turquoise trampolines,
of tranquil testaments and tiger lilies.
But as the curtains swiftly fly
into thin crimson layers of air,
trust the silence, for when
everything’s louder,
we find contentment in
compassionate places we encounter,
sowing seeds of love, whilst we hope;
brushing off negativity’s echoes,
to clutch onto inner healing’s rope,
and surrender to its throes.
So allow the invisible wand
of your soul that sears
to sprinkle pixie-dust upon
the backbone of cascading fears,
let your heartbeat ring
and strum every
metallic string of faith,
whilst thin veins in
throbbing waves hum,
“Kindness is the healing
stone and stoicism is the key of life”
R a i n ~ a misted mirror
coated in petrichor pain ~
fused with memories
pirouetting through the
veiled salt of the earth,
caressing the Pina Colada dreams
adrift in the icy-blue air,
amidst clouds soaked
in prismatic hues ~
arching like opalescent canopies,
to hide the despair I’ve draped
in dragonfly hues that no one knows
but the moon and his
merciful silver, forever stroking
the silken surface of s i l e n c e ~
homed within my
heart that aches…
And along with the thunder ~
came confetti of scars,
a piercing flash of metallic truth
revealing midnight rays
of how I’ve long been the storm ~
a murky sky of cracked constellations,
a rush of roaring torrents,
driving my thoughts to the honed
borderline of tremors and torture ~
teetering on forsaken fragility.
O dahlia dawn ~
I am the splitting tempest,
the spectral outline of
electrified lightning.
I taste the bittersweet flavors
of opaline stars ~
trembling in angst,
as fleeting sparks of the buried past,
too, feel the hurt beneath
the pansies of paradise,
where angels unfurl their
wings, sprinkling tears of hope
upon the battlefield of
shattered dreams,
lamenting the endless war
that burns in the olive-green
orchard of the grief-struck mind,
where fairy-lights
flicker neon hints of
prejudice through broken twigs ~
a pitiful perception,
amplifying the echoing embers
floating above puddles
of weathered lilies,
stained with dust and powder,
weaving a requiem for the
f a l l e n jewels,
walking through the trails
of bruises and tilted tulips,
bleeding poetry ~
beautified with
polychromatic phrases
and falcon ink that cuts
through paper promises,
leaving nothing but a restless reverie,
breathing in the quivering
warmth of quietude…
Color, miracle of light, never ending palette of energy; flood my mind and wash away the gray abyss.
Paint my heart, red and gold;
my life with a million color-scapes.
A life without color, is a monster;
lying in wait to devour everything.
My palette, likes to dance, among the tulips and poppies; nature’s canvas, provides the music.
Pirouetting brush, taps out scenes on a canvas;
a one-dimensional adventure, to peruse for years;
a snapshot of a moment in time.
My spirit rides the flow of pigment across the canvas; skating on the flow,
I am at one with hues birthed by light.
Meditating upon them, I come to see the beauty
in the world and in myself;
a palette of colors, am I.
All life, dances in reds, greens, yellows and blues;
their blending, gives birth to hues, pastel to bold;
life is light in inter-play, with everything.
Look around and brand the colors upon your heart,
memory and soul; tattoos of joy and sadness,
blend to build a canvas that is viewed by all.
Your colors; valued by others or hated,
determine your destiny.
When you re-paint your life, do not fear the colors;
revel in them. Your imagery will live on, eternally.
I rise from the white-wine siesta,
letting go of the serpentine songs,
like a crimson-winged dragonfly
lost in the poppy prairies of Persephone,
untangling my prisoned heart
chained by the churning
deceit of Hades’s immortal chains,
savoring pomegranate promises,
pirouetting through petrichor nirvana,
as the sky smells like a saffron rose
above the castle of emperors
dressed in fallen flowers.
Yet the diamonds sometimes are
engraved with ominous omens
and remorseless remnants,
while I return to cinnamon seclusion,
dancing to the mood of my moon.
O divine dandelion,
in your eyes I see suppressed sighs
of a splintered sunrise,
flickering balmy zephyrs of paradise,
as my soul is tied to the softness
of your delicate dusk~
like a faithful disciple,
forever following your footprints~
while velvety roots of florals
face the glows of alchemy,
amidst the array of arrows,
left as ashes of gold gone cold,
and the gracious gusts of gloaming
devouring the unscrupulous wounds
of a fragranced dawn.
I am the aching pigment
in your palette of purples,
longing for butterfly blurs
to bring me back to a
kingdom of kindness,
where I’ll forever breathe tender lilies
rinsed with wind-swept wishes.
But amidst the clusters of jewels
and raining sakura,
tonight I choose to walk with
specters of scorching stars,
allowing curves of my scarred skin
to burn from the blazing breeze
that bleeds nefarious narratives
upon the bleached borders.
So watch me waltz into the
infernal waters of the deep, bruised bay.
There I’ll write an elegy,
for the sorrow that swallowed your spirit.
I will find an anchor to pull
you back to the land of paper lanterns
as I surrender to the
haunting hues of the horizon;
the sweet sacrifice of a beloved blackbird
singing farewell in silence
to save you from the devilish underworld.
As dandelion dreams
are designed in lucid lies,
carving my essence into wintry wires
of woes and verdicts
from the
growing vines of a
villainous valley.
I feel the blackbird weep, it’s everything
I see the blackbird quiver, it’s what you bring
dreary
d a n d e l i o n