Best Prose Poems

From childhood it was a world of two...you and I...
I leaned lightly, leisurely against your heart and you let me in.

We were five I use to draw you rose scented flowers
using an ordinary led pencil. Youth! The world was ours.

Seven!  I know that was the...

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Our lives are not immune to the impact of time,
nor is our mind between the tensions of love and hate.
That's why I curse this wanderlust heart -
still searching for that wandering star.
without a guide - without a love to call my own.

I try not to...

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Silently he sat in darkness, flinching at the sight of light.
Which created a glow reflecting on his balding head.
His cold glare did not help my nerves, 
so I simply stood there observing his silence.

His philosopher beard's tendrils seem to crawl forever,
some hidden behind his buckled...

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Voice: Jason Williams

***

I danced! 
Whirling air around me, particles of sundust 
in tornadoes and hurricanes following me in awe
I danced.
Each night I wake and feel my legs
The ones that once carried me and jumped so high
The ones that took me away from a world I...

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As I sit watching fusions of saffron and scarlet hues 
elegantly charm the horizons.
Silently, fluffy lush clouds float by
like a magnetic field drawing me closer,
in hope they may lead me to you.

So I ponder
maybe love is like the sunrise
so many see it - yet so...

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Placid rain gently kisses unblemished windows
as leaves fall in an Autumn breeze.
In the distance cinereal clouds congregate,
converging upon the city's royal citadel.

Oblivious to the storm, adrift in cultural fiction
she sits immersed from the ambience
of the scent of new leaves.

Hypnotised - tranquil words enchant her mind,
as...

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I forgot myself today
as melancholic melodies 
overwhelm each beat
of my wandering heart.

The sanctimonious sun deceives
as a bitter breeze breathes
against sullen silent surfaces.

Recycled emotions penetrate
with a repetition of deep sighs.
My spiritless soul strays, but is
happy to be lost in lyrical lament.

As the Nightingale chants its
continuous regretful...

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There once was a bum. He was the neighborhood drunk. He had an unkempt demeanor. His salt and pepper hair had not been washed in years. The clothes he wore were 
ragged. His shirt had giant holes in them. He looked twice his age. In...

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I loved you the first day
I saw those big brown eyes blinking,
taking in your first moments of life.
Not a tear nor a little scream,
you seemed sheltered in my arms.

That was the day I promised to keep you safe and warm.

I remember your attempts to call...

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What has become of me?
Like a madman laughing in the rain,
wandering through fields of barley,
where ghosts whisper my name.

Hesitantly venturing forward,
reluctant to turn back,
loved ones desperately hold my hand.
Time is no longer a friend of mine.
I'm aware this path shall be my last,
but I'm smiling...

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FOREVER ADELINE 

Acknowledgement:  
A big thank you Sam Scott from our Poetry Soup Community,
for your splendid narrative contribution.

Synopsis: 
A story of unrequited love that began in childhood. 
Despite the passage of time, his love remained hauntingly 
painful even after she fell in love with...

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I wonder from all the seasons,
which one is me?

How do nature's elements
define my identity?

When clouds reflect judgement,
it does not matter what they think,
I do not reflect what they see.

I've seen petals blossom through concrete,
felt the turbulent tears of Everest's crumbling peaks

and I know 

I'm no...

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When I think of India, I think of dark eyed beauties,
their foreheads painted with decorative red dots,
and I see them moving deliciously in beautiful bright costumes
 as bangles dangle from their slender wrists.

When I think of India, I think of a culture steeped in history...

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If I  had a pretentious brain
which acts faster than my heart
Maybe then,I would abhore this soul
which spreads freely through each verse
Maybe then I would impress you
 with my intellectual grammar 
and sophisticated words
 I would scrutunize 
each and every coma
dot and exclamationmark
believing I know...

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I come to the garden along, while the dew is still fresh
on the meadows. Early in the morning do the bird's sing
praises of roses and peddles.  I cry, because there is no
refuge finally from the pain.  
    Yet long ago,...

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