Best Portrays Poems
Crystal winged hourglass flows muted gold sand
as time turns red dawn to pink dusk once more;
life’s tapestry fades as years so expand
but love in the heart gives youth to restore
when embraced with so much left to explore.
Crystal winged hourglass portrays such fleeting
finite life as time slips by depleting;
with love reborn, awoken from sleeping
so shall heavenly days be accreting -
when sand flows no more - just joy, no weeping.
The people of this world are like the three butterflies in front of a candle's flame.
The first one went closer and said:I know about love.
The second one touched the flame lightly with his wings and said:
I know how love's fire can burn.
The third one threw himself into the heart of the flame and was consumed.
The alone knows what true love is.
Rumi
I sit alone in a silent field of fairness,
under saffron rays kissing sunflower serenity,
among dawn's daisies and dusk's dandelions -
watching buds floating away with whisking winds.
Fate does not favour my quest to soar freely.
In a meadow of humanity's betraying breaths,
our buttercup souls become ambushed by a suffocation of sighs.
When there is no justice in spiteful judgement,
visions of Basilisk slither with a deadly gaze.
Envious eyes poisoned by potions of venom,
abuse the selfless mistress of my garden's muse -
but without Eve there would be no Adam nor Eden.
Weeping on the grave of her past self,
her fatigued spirit struggles to fight and rise.
I watch darkness ascend in springtime,
when her mind portrays a veil in the misery of mist.
I feel like a helpless flame burning in ivory wax.
Untreated wounds with time festering
into an ebony existence of self deprecation.
I can see butterfly hunters with their narcissistic nets,
chasing my imperfectly perfect empress of empathy.
Her heart hungers for a plethora of petals,
to hover from a ruby rose to lotuses of liberty,
but predatory birds like harlots and hussies,
have lured her into a withering winter colony of thorns.
Sorrow stitched her eyes closed with merlot thread,
as her sanity sits upon the edge of heaven and hell.
The Devil wears a hat with an emblem of her sins.
The bewitching conspiracy of his crimson eyes,
tempting to massacre the magnificence
of her invisible crystal wings of bronze and gold.
In a martyrdom of self-sacrifice,
love reminds her that kindness glows softly like fireflies,
as she tries to find light in a tunnel of lost thoughts.
The universe echoes her cosmic whispers of life,
as psychedelic ink shimmers like starlight in her veins,
pouring compassion into a selfish blank canvas of hearts.
Cherry blossoms tint the air pink
and she's looking at the world through their gaze,
but knows like everything,
their fragile beauty is only momentary.
I watched on
as the universe fluffed its lines,
tripping over evolving stories
keeping me in the dark,
gravity pulling my leg
Impossible to ignore
those below-the-belt punchlines
and a Big Bang
that leaves me seeing stars
It all happened so fast
A "hold on there”
kick-in-the-nuts moment
a doubled-over realisation:
I am mortal
and painfully aware
fairytales must cluster
in a galaxy elsewhere
In truth, I could have a brain bleed
tonight and die in my sleep,
just like my father
when he was my age
I won’t even know I’m dead,
no more than I knew I’d be born
Only the living are subject
to such subjective things
What a waste,
a goddamn waste
in all eternity
Why does consciousness
surface at all
only to drain back
into the vacuum of space?
Yeah, thinking about death sucks
especially lying in bed
tossing and turning
trying to sleep
Wish I could fantasise instead,
tucked up nice and cosy
dreaming about all things rosy,
Like those early simians
who went to sleep as monkeys
woke up knowledge-hungry,
bipedal junkies,
after digesting the original
chicken-and-egg omelette
that self-prepared in a forest fire
As for me,
I can’t even distinguish
divine awe
from Sod’s Law
since that probabilistic day
my buttered toast fell
and landed vertical on the floor
Such aberrations occur,
stuff one cannot conjure or control
Adult stuff?
If you like!
Except kids experience (stuff) too!
Most frustrating part:
the universe tells no lies,
only portrays truth,
albeit in an emergent sense
Past to present tense,
the future unravels;
knock-on effects travel,
sometimes producing
sudden knock-backs
as temporal waves
come knocking on one’s door
Still, I’m with the action now;
life hasn’t gone away
Besides, if I knew everything
or was omnipotent,
I’d eventually bore myself to death
in every possible way.
?
so came the morning
and just look at my pillow
well and truly fluffed
By
David Kavanagh
Poet's ink portrays wonders so profound,
as the last crimson rose of summer fades,
verdant leaves gently float to soggy ground,
weaving a pattern of saffron, beige shades.
Autumn's theatre parades vibrant hues,
as misty fog covers frozen meadows.
Haunting pastels animate artist's muse.
as poetic palettes splash glowing prose.
Lampposts ignite with cold midnight moonlight,
as snow flakes embrace trees in a white fleece.
Astral blooms inspire the soul to recite
in a rhythmic aesthetic masterpiece.
Lost in the elegance of nature's call,
art is adored in the grandeur of fall.
An ardent lover of words
Of his own is that world.
A crave stretching his soul
Dipping into a plethora of verse
Rising with a fulfilled thirst.
Unpredictable are his journeys
Unfathomable is the depth of his thoughts.
Unchained is his soul
Traveling along with the tune of his heart
The beauty of his mind.
An avid worshipper
Immersing his soul in a mine of gems
Rejoicing the blessings of a compassionate essence.
A heart of a poet
With a meticulous flair for fine art.
Knowledgeable reads
Dropping in relish
Into a haven of voracious insight
Rippling through a ravening mind.
A fervent passion for admiring
What a poet's pen of worth portrays.
A tremendous sense of reverence
Impressed on his fine heart
Upholding noble a value
To poet's endeavouring words
Pay tribute.
An ardent lover
A treasure of words
A heart of a poet
The reward!
May 31st, 2018
A heart read and quoted by many in this lifetime
Battle scars that remain and yet shielded by a peace of mind
Walked several miles and traveled while teaching others how to embrace
Remains courageous, faithful and strong with persistence in any given case
Blindsided by those who are willing to love and cherish her to the end
Silence becomes her guard, her armor, her protector, and best friend
Tears of pain, and sorrow, all of which are from a past memory
Times shared, lost and gained, the negative days are history
Mental pictures are drawn from imaginations that lead her to an untraceable place
Recruit no one, for life has taught her that there is no room for more mistakes
A mind reader that has established herself to be two steps ahead
Portrays an interesting novel, a world kept secret unread
Admire her dearly for her patience, wisdom and knowledge untold
How does she continue to live life so freely far from her empty soul?
Pace, G
INK-U-SCRIPT
I was a fool.
I was a fool searching for reasons why.
Reasons why I
Grin with sudden boy giggles
As if Karma was my DJ,
Playing cotton candy woven riffs
Of rhythmic whispers
Evermore
Everlong
I savor dark chocolate Peanut M&Ms
Tasting her sincerity
With each Pacific Ocean observance
Her dialect portrays within
My sunset smiles
I was a fool.
A slightly nervous kid
At his first Sadie Hawkins dance
Holding a paper cup
filled with swirly colored punch...
...not spiked
;-)
Futile attempts to stifle these vibrating legs
From crippling my exhaling urges
I was a fool.
Searching for irreplaceable reasons
Why my smiles became
An 11 year old innocence
I smile.
I blush.
I embrace a new dream
Written on embossed bucket list
To hold her
To hold her
To hold her
towards sunrises’ incipience
One day
With no reasons why
Simply
Because
©Drake J. Eszes
I can offer you sympathy,
try to feel you through empathy.
But if you take it for granted,
silence will be your remedy.
Remember the seeds you planted,
when unnourished will bloom slanted.
Hearts yearn for balanced devotion,
like birds sharing what they chanted.
When there is too much commotion,
tears seem to fall in slow motion.
Will you give my soul an embrace,
try to sense its deep emotion?
Ego only portrays disgrace.
Some actions are hard to replace.
Judgement is harshly negative.
Selflessness should be your showcase.
When the conscience seems tentative,
your heartbeats become expletive.
But if you've helped quench someone's thirst,
the thoughtful become sensitive.
Before the heart and soul immerse,
the eyes observe compassion first.
Awareness brings sweet harmony.
A purpose that should be well versed.
In my past existence,
circumstance sowed my roots
deep into woods of foreign soil,
slowly I ascended spreading my wings,
yearning to be evergreen,
blossoming in summer with glossy verdant leaves -
I became the soul of the earth.
Yet, I never belonged,
among a promenade of silver skinned pines,
who mocked my rough brown bark.
I was born to flourish in a tropical oasis,
so autumn winds stole my diverse petals.
I stood vulnerable with
bare branches shivering in silence.
Snow fell gently,
as my crumbling core began to rot.
Fate slashed at my anchor like a mad man with an axe,
until I collapsed with my sap bleeding dry.
I was left to slumber in melancholic meadows,
abandoned in murky misty moors.
In death,
I pondered, will anyone miss me in times of;
silence, anger, tears, smiles, laughter and regret?
Although they cannot hear nor see me,
will they still feel me in their hearts?
When they gaze at the night skies.
Will they find me among the stars?
Lost in thought,
yearning stardust and moonlight melodies,
my soul connected with an ethereal spirit,
an aromatic aura I had never felt -
I was finally found.
Her soft lotus touch roused a fluorescent glow.
Our hearts illuminated resembling the golden orb.
As my beloved portrays me in her poetry,
we wander in fields of forever,
commemorating instead of cremating memories.
Her devotion plants a special seed in her bronze orchard,
creating an immortal poetic garden -
where we bloom as flowers in all four seasons.
I painted a painting
so that you could see
The person I wished
that you could be
Your eyes were pure blue
Just like they are
But the look was near
Instead of far
In my painting
You had not a care
You were with me
in a moment rare
Flowing blonde hair
and a lovely smile
meant just for me
at least for that while
Time can be cruel
sometimes so unfair
Paint portrays perfect
that wasn’t there
This painting a remnant
from so long ago
of the lady I loved
but would never know
In my painting
enjoying our play
Painting myself in
on a perfect day
We were holding hands
walking on a beach
Things picture perfect
just beyond my reach
It was silly pretend
a longing in me
That person I wished
that you could be
On a museum wall
for others to view
“Wouldn’t it be great
to be like those two?”
A fictional account.
A poet I am not
I woke up today to blue sapphire skies
with ribbons of fuchsia and crimson hues
Having my minds reveries realized
With mental imbroglios I'm imbued
I whiled away the day, in purple haze
entranced in cerebral meditations
Pondering the adjectives that portrays
awesome celestial revelations
I searched in vain for the words to describe
scenes of ethereal spectral visions
There was no way for my heart to transcribe
broken thoughts from synaptic collisions
I saw beauty that transcends conscious thought
Words fail me, so... a poet I am not
March 09,2017
For Brian Strands contest!
At first glance ...
Amid turbulent strokes
and vivid hues,
eyes mesmerized by
maiden's molten-red mane—
Love and Pain
Gently kissing
her lover's nape
in tender embrace,
while Pain's
lurking specter
overshadows their
intimate space,
threatening Love's
fragile grace
Second glance ...
Gent's deathlike pallor
portrays a chilling
alternative motif.
Is love really her goal, or
is she nosferatu feasting
on a submissive soul?
Dark eyes reflect the
lurking specter's desire—
Vampire
“I have loved thee with an everlasting love.”*
Precious assurance from the Father above
Expressed by Jeremiah 31:3
Wondrous God’s compassion, bountifully free.
Drawing me near Him with His loving kindness
Portrays His goodness despite my sinfulness
Reaching-out to me, leaving throne of glory
To rescue me from hell’s condemning fury.
“I have loved thee with an everlasting love.”*
Precious assurance from the Father above
Expressed by Jeremiah 31:3
Wondrous God’s compassion, bountifully free.
Midst God’s love reigns bliss of sweet serenity
Vanquishing turmoil with great peace certainty
His grace protects my soul from guilt-causing pain
Offering comfort with whole forgiveness gain.
“I have loved thee with an everlasting love.”*
Precious assurance from the Father above
Expressed by Jeremiah 31:3
Wondrous God’s compassion, bountifully free.
Such inspirational verse from the Scriptures
Divinely sublime, propelling faith ventures
Securing me with the Lord’s relationship
Sealing redemption for eternal worship.
“I have loved thee with an everlasting love.”*
Precious assurance from the Father above
Expressed by Jeremiah 31:3
Wondrous God’s compassion, bountifully free.
*Jeremiah 31:3 The LORD hath appeared of old unto me, saying, Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love: therefore with lovingkindness have I drawn thee.
June 5, 2020
1st place, "Favorite Scripture" Premier Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke; judged on 6/6/2020.
Today, I thank You, dear God for Your love, sending to me Your Son Jesus Christ to be my Saviour. Thank You, dear Jesus, for dying on the cross, being buried, and rising again to save me from hell, granting me eternal life. I trust You. I put my faith in You while I repent of my sins. Thank You, Holy Spirit for enlightening me that only Jesus Christ can save me. Amen.
This is featured in the book, PS: It's Still Poetry - An Anthology of Contemporary Poetry from Around the World Paperback – January 1, 2022 by Inc. Arczis Web Technologies (Author), PoetrySoup (Author)
I go by my many names, Luke calls
me son of man through humanity,
John portrays me as son of God in his deity.
I am, I am the one true Lamb.
The one true Lamb is what I am.
As Jesus pulled the bread apart,
he gave to each apostle, a piece of his beating heart.
He said, I am the bread of life sent from above.
Everything I give to you, comes from the Fathers love.
The one true Lamb is what I am.
I am, I am the one true Lamb.
I am the light of the world
sent by my Father to save and to serve,
all you sinners who hide in the night,
know that I am the radiant light.
I am, I am the one true Lamb.
The Lamb on the cross is what I am.
Truly I tell you to come more and more,
enter through me for I am the door.
I am the Good Shepherd who loves all his sheep,
the lost and the lonely and the lepers who weep.
I am, I am the one true Lamb.
Sacrificed on the tree, for who I am.
Come all of ye into the light,
for I am the resurrection of life.
Forever my flesh will always be lost,
but I rise in three days from my death on the cross.
I am the one true Lamb,
The one and only, is what I am.
The way, the truth and the life.
So believe, don't stray,
and keep your eye on the light.
I am, I am the one true Lamb.
The Lamb, the Lamb is who I am.
The one true vine is what I am,
supplying and providing all that I can,
for all of you I was hung on a tree,
and from my death comes your eternity
I am, I am the loving Lamb.
Her gentleness portrays softness, tenderness and humility.
Her gentleness is the definition of true strength;
a representation of consistency,
of determination.
Her gentleness shows the depth of her soul;
a soul filled with unconditional love,
a soul sensitive to treat others with kindness,
a soul genuine to herself that disseminates tranquility to those around her.
So alluring!
She captivates me from within.
She nourishes beautiful things to grow.
Her sweet benevolence cultivates my inner peace.
Nevertheless, this magnificent creature was persecuted.
There were those who belittled, degraded and disrespected her.
She was hunted down like an animal.
The prey of unruly predators.
Their weapons of hate were loaded with bullets
of hostility: an intentional intense dislike that thrives
on an elevated level of anger.
The barrage of bullets pierced through her heart
and penetrated the depths of her soul.
Her body became cold from the absence of her warmth.
No longer is there a sparkle because of those
who made her gentleness fade.
Now she believes her gentleness is a self-inflicted wound;
a wound shrouded in shame, embarrassment and betrayal.
However, I know it was her choice.
She was an embodiment of true courage.
Her gentleness is framed on the walls
of my heart for eternity.