Best Proffer Poems
Golden sun enlightens contours of violet arc
Painting mauve motifs on canvas of cosmic art
When constellation of dewdrops sparkle on grass
And thoughts of your allure enchant my heart,
As in pristine meadows of sensuous past I walk
Holding hands of dawn to reminisce love that was
When you come along, cheering one more dance--
Oh, how I regret, not kissing that ebullient morn,
Strolling in memoirs of your favorite garden
Where gardenias court scent of rose blossoms,
Crafting ode of love that's silent on fervor--
Alas, you've never heard rhythm of my poem,
Shrouded in metaphors that proffer not a clue
But it's always been true: there's no one but you
For you see it enunciated in language of runes
Where dreams you dream are passing through.
Wish you knew I worship the ground you walk on
And love everything about you just the way you are
And ache for your moon, wish for your stars,
For no one but you makes me feel--I have it all.
August 26, 2019
Placed 2nd: If only you knew poetry contest by Silent One
HM: Strand special 7 by Brian Strand
Categories:
proffer, how i feel, love,
Form:
Verse
On troubled roads of life, when opposing sides collide,
Conflict of emotions clamors, agitating ego and pride,
While empathy warns: let forgiveness be your guide,
As benevolent angels, in missives of compassion chide.
Mired in wins and losses, when humanity strums offbeat,
Adversaries propagate hatred, and blatantly mistreat,
As meaningless conversations puff up, donning conceit,
While expressions of solemn amiability retreat in defeat.
A proffer of calm and goodwill, checks enemy’s reign
When sanctity prevails, calming a perturbed domain,
As atonement and humility heal, soothing angst of pain
And disturbed vibes seeking revenge, begin to wane.
As nobility of repentance tenders offers of mercy, grace,
Malevolent behaviors recede, ashamed in disgrace,
And enlightenment of intellect inspires vacuous space,
When hosting redemption, reformed enemies embrace.
In affluence of cognitive thoughts informed minds elate
Harboring tolerance and sympathy, discarding hate,
Being harmonious with peace, mundane life they liberate,
Achieving balance within, unfazed by travails of fate.
Categories:
proffer, forgiveness, meaningful,
Form:
Rhyme
Moon is still behind glum clouds
Sullen is the garb of a silent sky
So much like how he feels tonight
Anxious in the night laden in dark
Stars are opaquely hanging listless
Like the glimmer of her grieved vibes
Dimming in saddened teary eyes
Refusing to proffer a happy smile
A chatter heard from birds’ nest
Breaks their muffled silence
Quivering pulse of anguished feelings
Rattling summer’s lavender dreams
Drifting away in coral winds
From fragrant garden’s ruby appeal
A lone bird now leaves its abode
And sits close by, staring at him
Ambivalent of travails it heard
Unsure to yield, unwilling to leave
Bawl of strife’s persistent despair
Slowly fades in decaying night
As moon is starting to pierce dark,
So are the twinkles of distant stars
Waning in purple of rising dawn
Glinting on blush of the tinted arc
Seeing the lone bird sprinting above
Spanning wings in blazing speed
Fleeing emptiness of vacant scene
Much like him… way ahead of him
July 12, 2020
July Na Or Hm Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Hm received in contest judged on 7/14/2020
Contest Name: Completely New (9) Any Form Any Theme
Categories:
proffer, anxiety, break up,
Form:
Free verse
Antares' red glow bears firmly down
upon plush, chartreuse carpet
lying prone against the obsidian expanse,
blanketing sections of a remote
blue sphere, purling,
spinning helplessly
through distant time and space;
slave to routine and rotation,
never daring to break free;
to reach out.
Scorpius sprawls low
across the Autumn void;
a celestial corpse
twinkling, twitching;
inexplicably still breathing,
expelling the last
of her precious plexine light
in a final, desperate act
to awake inspiration, stir passion,
proffer wholeness and healing
to an infirmed, ungrateful planet,
for her end-of-reign recession.
Projecting dreams; visions
like swirling Akashic holograms
leaping forth from ancient pages
of ethereal records,
all but lost to time and apathy.
Twisting snakelike through the cosmos,
her broody gaze steeling
in every direction;
fierce energy bombarding;
burning across the universe.
Intense joules bursting forth;
reaching out to nurture
willing universal souls;
scorching those who reject her,
turning them to table fodder
at a divine banquet
for dark gods.
Sagittarius flickers jovially behind
as if breathless with laughter;
taunting, frustrating,
staying just out of reach
of her vengeful tail.
The rule of Scorpio wanes
upon Orion's horizontal breach
extinguishing the sting-ed cluster;
quelling her tumultuous surge
until late-spring pains
rebirth her fires,
igniting them, emerging again
from the icy chasm
of black oblivion.
Categories:
proffer, space, stars,
Form:
Free verse
I bequeath to you my poems,
For words are all I own--
May the images of snow and fall
Bring you comfort when alone.
And I will leave you all of it;
The moonlight on the moor--
As well the quiet, leafy wood,
Or a sunbathed distant shore.
And among the rhyme and imagery;
The metaphor, and theme--
You'll read of rose and morning dew,
Of midnight naps, and dream.
And somewhere in between the lines
The fantasy turns real--
So take these words I proffer you,
And touch, and taste, and feel.
Amazing are the things you'll see,
Like the ivy-covered wall--
Or the icy streams of diamond
And the spill of waterfall.
So enchanting is the moonlight,
So too the autumn breeze--
Oh how I'll miss the butterflies
And the stand of ancient trees.
So precious is the lily pond,
The wildflowers too--
Take comfort in the song of rain
And the pansies playful hue.
How amazing is the hummingbird
In uncertain, frenzied flight--
Reminds me of the dawn and eve
As they argue, day or night.
And in the valley of the glen,
Where stands the steeple church--
There remains a knee-high meadow,
And a lovely stand of birch.
So Immerse yourself in wondering,
Set your spirit to the sky--
Behold as children, puffs of cloud;
The bee and butterfly.
And let your palette taste the wind,
Hear the quiet of the snow--
While delighting in the jasmine;
The sweetest scent I know.
Take my words and nurture them,
Kindly revel in my dream--
And keep alive the buttercup,
As well the mountain stream.
May you sleep the night, and linger;
That my dream may carry on--
Give life to every word and thought
Till the images are gone.
May you celebrate the beauty;
May you open every door--
Till the sun is swallowed by the sea,
And my poems are, no more.
~M
Categories:
proffer, beauty,
Form:
Imagism
She ventured far beyond Earth's realm
past cordoned confines of heart and soul
Tumbled, as did Alice, down the rabbit hole
Drifted, like an Autumn leaf blown from an elm
She soared past distant planets,
on paths lighted by effulgent moons
Weaved her tears among Saturn's rings
and all the while she was gathering stardust
before they mingled with sand on Mars' dunes.
From mountain peaks of Jupiter,
she bottled mist, to which she clings
And all these amazing interstellar things
were collected as caressive tokens for him;
the one she had vowed to love more than life.
From far reaches of dark galaxies
she held treasures from her jaunt;
Mystical items she hoped he'd want
brilliant beacons of silvered moonbeams,
fading light, captured as the sun dimmed.
She carefully wrapped her gifts to offer
in layers of cosmic flecks from a comet's tail.
Trussed with silken threads of time, unraveled,
she tied celestial troves she would soon proffer
to the one for whom she holds in fervent affection.
From his heart, she hoped would spill
the love that somehow waned to a trickle.
Then in abundance, once more it would flow
like a wildly churning river, Yes, she loves him still
Categories:
proffer, adventure, love,
Form:
Verse
(TWIN FLAMES)
Like he pleaded for your friendship
Let’s say he did, alright he did!
Polite rejection would be great,
But all those “hellos” were as fake
He thought being true was good enough,
And hoped by her life would look up.
As in his mind was the thought born,
It there did die before it sprung.
Quite all the moxie that he had,
Without a toil would have been hers,
Yet she felt naught (like would a corpse)
When all his dreams drained through the crust.
Like she pleaded to thus be strung,
Let’s say she did but was not wrong.
A gentle advance would’ve been best,
She tagged the others guys “coquettes”.
How would he know? He’s quite sinless,
And the movies would neither help -
Nor would these books reveal to him,
How upon maids, they work their wits.
Maybe she was, and’s still like him,
And never hopes to turn from it,
Maybe she too is still as true,
And hence she fell on tenterhooks.
She could be hurt and not retell,
The wondrousness within herself,
And how his fancy had took her,
From that first glance and salient smirk.
Like they both pleaded to be born
Dizygotic or one by one.
One should suffer, one should serve
One should proffer the other care.
Once on the earth and swarmed by dreams
Either, confused reality.
Who would be crowned? Venus or Mars?
Or would they both meet in the stars?
“Like a cold corpse felt naught” he thought,
Her heart was cold and dangerous.
Like autumn leaves are fallen dead,
She thought, “no love was on his head”.
Categories:
proffer, confusion, crazy, crush, desire,
Form:
Rhyme
Bending Backward
We seem to bend backward
Where the truth is told
We seem to lean forward
To coruscating gold.
When conscience is dead
Our blunt nerve is teased
When cruelty fills the head
Our minds are pleased.
Then we turn a blind eye
Where the infirm do cross
Hiding as they pass by
To seclude our dross!
We seem to bend backward
When a neighbour cries
We seem to move forward
When we are ruled by lies.
Most of our time is spend
In pursuit of leisure
Lies, Evil and wicked intend
That cankers soul’s treasure.
We enjoy leaning forward
To peek inside a hot pot
In which rank poison boils
To proffer our Foe a tot
And die twisting like coils.
We do recline backward
To rest on laurels green
Boasting of being die-hard
When we are unclean!!
How do you kill own blood
Or rape a wretched minor?
Being in a backward mood
Or this degenerate manner!
We seem to bend backward
More than bending forward!
09th October 2013
Categories:
proffer,
Form:
Ballad
Oh, You Brutish Mob.
Ye fool's Ye.
It falls on your watch,
You care not what You see.
While all is being squandered,
you simply will not agree.
Yet you wave a finger,
then claim it's not me.
You Grandstand and Glad hand,
Ad nauseum of these.
And all you care about,
are those clowns on TV.
Reality is not, the Fantasy,
That they force feed.
Division, Derision, and Hate,
You've All sown the seeds.
Go Reap the Whirlwind.
Ye Fools Ye.
Is the bill that you proffer,
A plan of sound action?
Or just to fill the coffers,
of your Political Faction?
Do You stand with your Country?
The Land of the Free.
Oh, You Brutish Mob,
Ye Fool's Ye.
Categories:
proffer, america, leadership,
Form:
Rhyme
Missing the luxurious lush green of verdant spring.
When autumn chafes against the soul
Reluctant of letting go all that summer had to offer
We do not proffer from resentment
Find, we may contentment with the season immediately upon the boughs,
The leaves all fallen and secretly feeding unseen mysteries in the soil
Tender shoots then rise from the breast of young men past
The good never lasts…
Renewal’s corollary: destruction is perpetual
And grass is proof there is no death
In the greatest pain of our memories, all comparative,
Seeds the future from counter-fit narratives
And while truth may die in the breasts of men…
Yet the grass is proof there is no death.
Categories:
proffer, allegory, nature,
Form:
Free verse
When roses proffer prickly thorns
And wilted flowers deliberately mock
Forlorn garden of my passions torn,
When winds of love are gusting cold
As night invokes banished woes
And horrid storm wrecks my coast
And tides turn wild to sink my boat
As heart aches in beats lovelorn,
To touch my soul, you come along.
Beautiful you’re beyond my dreams--
Brown eyes beaming bold appeal,
A dimple adorns blushing cheeks
Gleaming style of radiant smile,
Just as I had imagined you would be.
How splendorous is your royal abode!
Where rare jewels glint arched entrance
Greeting me gently into your mahal--
Imperial charm of intricate patterns
Woven in petals of heavenly fragrance.
“This is our place,” longingly you say
Hanging our portraits on walls of grace,
Mementos of desires are already there
Toasting rendezvous of love ornate.
And happily I stay there in your embrace
In the fragility of dreams utopia creates.
May 18, 2020
In the fragility of dreams poetry contest
Sponsor: Silent One
Categories:
proffer, dream, emotions, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse
On a dreary day, the sky hangs, like layers of grey cotton wool
As I am curled up warm and toasty next to a roaring fire
Across the armrest, my old throw casually lays
Favorite magazines leisurely tossed upon the floor
I am now restless; too cold for a walk and feeling melancholy
I proffer distant stares through wide expanse of window
Slipping into a welcome daydream, my coffee mug in my hand
Imaginings take forms as I look past the frosty panes
Like magic, I deeply inhale streams of moist, clean, fresh air
As warm, mellow sunshine slowly invades the gloom
I see the brave rose bush awakening, clad in young leaves of green
Her precious, new buds peering from sockets upon trimmed branches
There goes a busy hummingbird collecting nectar as she sings
And in my mind at that moment, in pure delight, I glimpse, spring!
~*~
Note: For Francine Roberts's, "Bring On Spring" Contest
Categories:
proffer, life, seasons
Form:
Free verse
WHERE OPPORTUNITY ABOUNDS
She sat all alone in the dimly lit, smoky barroom
Nursing a gin and tonic that the ice had melted in
Her countenance was that of someone jilted
With a look that showed disdain for men
Two stools down there sat a stranger
Whose face had the same look as hers
It had a veritable blank stare look
That takes place when jilting occurs
Suddenly the bartender said rather loudly
Last call for the lonely hearts club
And at that moment their eyes met
The dim glow from the dimly lit bulb
Seemed brighter than ever before
He approached her ever so slowly
And offered to take her home
Her thoughts were he is so lowly
But the opportunity seemed quite harmless
So she accepted his generous offer
After all, they both were so lonely
And such a chance may have much to proffer
1 November 2019
Last Call For The Lonely Hearts contest - collaboration sponsored by Line Gauthier
Categories:
proffer, cheer up, romance,
Form:
Rhyme
The Imp sat atop the dresser, unmoving,
in the corner of the room, I waited, pen in hand.
No sound did he make, nor his locus improving,
as his bloodshot eyes, my attention, they demand.
In days slipped past, he spoke in lulled timbre,
for years he abated the fears that I had,
his mind so subtle, his thoughts so limber,
but through each day my questions he forbad.
I wrote each word, every syllable, every notion,
spoken dark or tender, whether thou or thine.
He laid before me his songs of emotion
and I stole each one and made them all mine.
In his voice, I claimed, all of his treasures,
without a thought he'd discover, in time.
Yet, now he speaks with words always measured,
and burning glares that scream of my crime.
Does he know I've used him to privilege my psyche?
Does he know how his rhymes have impassioned my soul?
Would he care if I offered to proffer my ego,
or pay, with my heart, this immeasurable toll.
“Living In The Dark ,“ so easy he spoke this,
while together we lived each verse, he and I.
Darkness foreboding, for he, was in bliss,
but for me pure terror as his words I decry.
He laughed at my fear and smiled with derision
as my name I placed at the end with the date.
His eye slowly narrowed as if changing his decision
but I watched as the dark made these feelings abate.
I gather before me his sonnet's solemn lines,
He allows me to name it,"Fire," seems right,
as his bitterness taunts me with each phrase he entwines
leaving visions of me in the sallow dim light.
I live in his blindness through eyes of midnight.
The coals of his vision, burning embers of fright,
but the words he has spoken I endeavor to requite
for they linger and fill me with horrendous delight.
Each syllable I have written, each turn of a phrase,
I owe to this Imp as he glares from the dresser
but silence, now, while he sits in the shadows,
how I wish again to become his confessor.
10/07/2020
Categories:
proffer, dark, depression, gothic, muse,
Form:
Quatrain
Let us honor where possible all of earth's fools
Who remind us that others view us the same way,
Who might also be brothers, if not on this day
Or the conflict this moment, prove friend in some way!
Where's the profit when violence makes us its tools.
When you look in a mirror, reflect on who's there,
Is he flawlessly pure or has he made mistakes
You aren't keen to uncover, who learns more from breaks
That his mother might give him, than the belt his dad takes
To the woodshed, "to learn him?" Tell me what's more "fair!"
Can harsh punishment ever be Love's consequence?
Was Christ's death for our faults or to show us God's Grace
That was there all along? In such pain lies embrace
That no man should ignore. "Jesus wept!" Liquid's trace!
Don't you feel His tears shed, their revealed eloquence?
If this day is my last, Lord, let me not conceal,
Worst shame's flaw in pride's shade that might proffer one light,
To a fellow fool feeling he's lost. Can the night
Be a tent for our nakedness, mellow sin's sight
To the sinless? Can sin be excused, if You're real?
Your forgiveness seems path more inviting than free.
Oh, in faith lies the journey where I hope to roam,
There discover provisions you share, a new home,
One where coming or going, Your Word's just "Shalom!"
And the rainbow's curved smile shines for all that can be.
Long Tooth
June 28th in 2019
Categories:
proffer, faith, humor,
Form:
Rhyme