Best Puissance Poems
A full total solar eclipse occurred on July 2, 2019,
In only Chile and Argentina.
I was informed about it and told my scoffing, daughter dear:
"There is something destructive that will result from this, I fear. "
Surely, enough it did, in the Mojave Desert on July 4, 2019
with such great puissance!
People hurriedly fell to their knees in fear,
asking God for His help and Divine Guidance.
The moon and sun, such powerful bodies!
Effect the firmament and all waters.
Who knows all the happenstances that the sun and moon alter?
July 8, 2019
8:30am PST
Breathe, celebrate our ways; never forget them.
Rejoice in the power of our foremother, forefather.
Puissance in each footstep.
Celebrate their words; sing loud, spirited.
Sing to the moon which they saw.
Sing to the stars which were in their eyes.
Rejoice in every step, tap the earth; wake up old souls!
Let them know that we are here; willing.
Dance, laugh; tell them that you will never stop;
never stop until we dance, laugh and shout together.
Always; still today; under HIS Eyes, never parted, never will.
Inspired by the Bridal painting of the Empress Elisabeth of the 19th century Austro-Hungarian Empire -
Elegance, strength as elegance,
elegance of spirit personified as if this extraordinary elegance
was born to be, beyond the devestation of mortals,
so far outside the boundries of the base & banal ravishings
prevelant within peoples' passions and purposes,
escaping expectations of equality,
graciousness was alive within her
like a landscape loved & leavened by a monogamous moonlight,
ebony overcome by the invigoration of ivory,
realising that genuine grace is a monument
of courage confronting chaos, crystallised composure,
she being a template and temple for hopefuls,
in all my experience I have witnessed no woman more ready for power,
more savoring for sacrafice, more able to abate avarice & acrimony,
Elisabeth, the emerald of an Empire,
Mother to minions, mistress of the misery & magnificence of the multitudes,
Master of the stout & savant,
such precocious puissance of personality, regal resilience,
my imagination renders eagles delivering sustenance to her,
bees bringing heavenscent -
J.A.B.
Quand le jour se levera, la lumiere eclaira
la bonte divine nous reviendra et l'amour s'eclatera dans nous
voila les chemins menant de partout
les passagers et les amis de la mort sont la
les gardiens de la volonte les guident.
Quand la terreur reignera, le jour deviendra tout noir
la paix prendra la fuite, la vie nous quittera
l'amour disparaitra sous nos yeux
moi voila que le corps de mon corps me quitte.
Je deteste ma vie, voila que je l'ai toujours fait
mon ame est en route de demenagement
j'ai toujours voulu connaitre mon existence
mais le temps m'a toujours empeche de le connaitre
pauvre moi, j'ai la foi et la volonte mais la force me manque.
J'ai la chaleur dans moi et la honte dans mon coeur
mon ame et mon corps me brillent
j'ai la sensation d'une petite etre, sur cette enorme terre
ma vie est en danger, je l'ai voulu et voila que je l'ai perdu
je l'ai manque et je suis dans le desespoir.
Mon coeur me lache, la vie me blesse, me deteste et m'humiliee
la terreur me guide, mes pieds sont devenus des bois et la terre du feu
ca me chauffe sans arret
je suis dans le noir, le tenebre qui m'entoure ne me donne pas pause
il me guide chaque jour et m'oblige a tout donne
je laisse tout et je pese sur coeur.
La meilleur facon de mes meilleurs moments, me faite et me creee la honte
parmis ceux qui etaient les mien
ca me chauffe, ca me fait mal
la honte me reclame
j'ai la jeunesse sous mes yeux mais je touche la vieillesse
je jaunie comme les bananes de mes enceintres
je reflechi mais ma memoire est deja si fatigue
mon coeur est fache contre moi, il me quitte sans pitie
je reste avec un trou enorme dans ma poitrine.
Le gout de mes levres est deja amer
j'ai la poesie au bout de ma langue et la justice sous mes levres
la colere des dieux me reclame, le pouvoir des mien est indesirable
je ne suis plus moi meme, lorsque je n'entend plus ce petit voix dans moi
qui m'indique le chemin et me montre le beau cote des choses.
La terreur des dieux est tout pres
ca fait honte de mandier celui que t'as neglige et blesse dura ton existence
mon coeur est en larme, c'est quoi d'abord vivre?
la puissance de la nuit nous tombe dessus, oui, toi et moi
nous allons pleures, cries et mourir de peur
le jour du jugement est la!
Form:
Someone new resides inside of me…
Someone confident, bold with humility replacing envy…
Someone who gives gratitude first, forever quenched from greed’s thirst…
Someone who has embraced their inner goddess…
Someone capable to mirror this amidst the outer realm bringing forth a mate of the soul…
To anoint the goddess with Jasmine oil is to anoint the soul of love...
To anoint the goddess with honey suckle is to forever receive her love...
Someone new resides within me…
Someone exuding power; sprinkles of compassion braided in ropes of empathic relations…
Someone aware and focused upon the piece of the creator within…
Someone understanding; Creator is the omnipresent thought before being received by mind.
Someone cognizant; Creator is infinite intelligence, the life force that pulses through us.
Someone knowing what we do within ourselves affects the entire universe…
Someone fully assimilating we are the hands of creation nestled in gloves of manifestation…
To anoint the goddess with Jasmine oil, is to anoint the soul of love...
To anoint the goddess with honey suckle is to forever receive her love...
Someone new resides within me…
Someone with strength to love thy self….
Someone with wisdom; giving forth this original energy…
Someone at peace; mystical, magical,philosophical …
As the river cascades
From Himalayas breast
With all its puissance
And rage, it distills out
Along its way, the grail
Of love, service and faith.
It finds the fondness
That grows, in tandem
With the stretching course
Brimmed with beauty, it
Flows till infinite.
Tunes emanate
At each sojourn
Of cadenced waves
Those quench the earth.
It imparts
On mankind
Life itself
Like a
Caring
Mom
Poet: Prashant Shaurya ©
All rights reserved.
Tea time in the desert,
a stellar hibiscus moment;
the freedom of passionate dreams
build to a crescendo amid
starlight reverie.
A release of stress and trauma,
is a sip of love from the universe;
I watch evening waves greet
the celestial spheres;
with elation.
I feel a oneness with the stars here,
my soul flies on freedom's magic carpet.
Puissance of the brew fills the
evening air, as lavender hues
invade my wandering mind.
A spirit on a mortal journey am I,
tapping the etheric bodies of swirling stars.
Nature's tiki cocktail
provides a few moments of bliss,
as my spirit swims the higher realms.
2-14-2023
A Simple Pleasure Poetry Contest
Julia Ward
Pure filth in the sick terrain of disease
amoeba,bacteria gnawing on carrion putrid
smelling awful the fetid wafts captured noses
puissance in resistance aided by gear little
toll was heavy like a hammer of God.
Sins overgrew like wild moss the citylines
many had looted gravely many others of toe to hairs
yet others had ditched several in rat holes of despair
raped with fierceness so brute that victim felt killed for years
purloined so skillfully, that heist remained unknown to official years
killed and tilled the intestines of many
they were lying in river bed fanny
earning dough was a zero sum game
they erased yours and put their name
living on the margin like a zombie dead
did you have the courage left that you always had.
Cycle had moved a round and done turnabout
earth shook and took all it could get
nature was shaking the societal glass
where scum had gathered thick at bottom
as it threatened to have the pure also pretty rotten
quaking in anger and seeth the plates moved and moved
the evil empires were down and razed, seeking insurance claims
they had to build again the regimes ,ugly and bad
good guys got a deal out of destruction and death
as they went about collecting the carcasses of all
You heard them mumble in bated breath toll:
Pure filth in the sick terrain of disease
amoeba,bacteria gnawing on carrion putrid
smelling awful the fetid wafts captured noses
puissance in resistance aided by gear little
toll was heavy like a hammer of God.
TV channel shutter bags clicked mad......the quake tragedy ..nobody bothered to check the
social and criminal background of those dead....vis a vis their real activities-which were
largely unknown ,anyways!
Art,
Love,
Music,
Together
Superb masterpiece
Coercing blood in veins - jetting
Inoculating sinew,strength,life and puissance
Antibiotics - soothing,relieving,numb and feeble within excruciation.
At eventide light slowly fades
A curtain of darkness descends
Pensively I reflect on our enduring ardency
Wonderstruck still at the miracle of reuniting
A veritable lifetime thereafter
That fleeting relation in our minority
Enamoured by your gentle comportment
Exuding puissance and love eternal
Virtues countless as the stars aloft
Omnipresent tenderness from your supple lips
My love for you forever bounteous
The universe has bestowed your being upon me
So together we may flourish as one
My gratitude shan’t ever diminish
PART THE FIRST
black coffee beans
bountiful in Bismarck.
rich provisions for the soul
and succulent dinners for the heart
I met a waitress once
she gave twenty-three reasons to prove to me that God exists.
each one delicately worded with vigor and puissance
it was bittersweet like the coffee she would serve me before work.
Precise like the trill of a piano
Ideas that capture the mind
longing to be heard by a starving ear.
Washed up whales who were transfixed by the promise of a better life
they wanted the land when they did not realize the beauty of the sea.
Overrun by greed and the longing for a break in their chains.
As they give their last breaths, it is then they realize the error of their ways
regret floods their blubbery minds as the giant of the water gives up
How now, mister man in the moon?
On this day we do mourn.
Not for the dead, or the gone, or our dearly departed.
But we do mourn for ourselves.
Yes, we mourn because there’s nothing left.
Our mind has been stripped down to its core intentions
Basic, selfish, feeble, and alone.
This is the day that we sob and pray for ourselves.
A battle raging with the fires of a thousand suns
Internally.
White blood cells as silver as the snow
and as cold and unforgiving as a blizzard
fight the misunderstood and unrepresented bacteria
a merciless battle, fitting for a fight to the death… and beyond.
the outcome predetermined by a higher existence
it would be best if you weren’t involved anyway
you are, ultimately, unnecessary to this process
you are, ultimately, unnecessary.
Many mistakes I've made; yet always seeking You in that place, our place.
This old soul is not worthy; Your Mercy is most forgiven.
Battles, I fight, forgetting that YOU have won them all.
In all ways, YOU take my hand, but at times I slip through.
I feel Your never-ending puissance; but my fears are known to me.
Knowing that YOU will forever guide me, my battles are still within me.
Worries are few yet quickly remembered.
Praying that I will never question YOU, I know that I am weak.
Your Strength, a gentle breeze that blows into me, I need.
I stumble but never fall out of your sight.
Your Eyes are on me, I know they are, I try to hide, but
You know me, your mercy comes once again as it finds me
as I seek that place, our place.
Catherine Johnson Broussard
La Paix et le Désert – Translation of Kevin Gilbert’s « Peace and the Desert » by T. Wignesan
Pendant que la braise du campement de feu scintille
J’entendis l’appel
du courlis annonçant la naissance
ou la mort de quelques uns
le vent du désert calmait durant la nuit
et dans une voix
tremblante poussa un soupire à l’entrée interdite des pas
quand on entend le battement des tambours lointain
le petit matin arrive en ne faisant pas trop de bruit
la nuit des premiers âges est en fuite
laissant l’impression frémissante des bruits
du carnage et la puissance des carnivores
immobile, malgré l’espoir d’un roitelet gazouillant
un lézarde qui survive bougeant sur un roché
un émeu, deux cherchant de l’eau dans une source d’eau
les aigles fixent leur regarde en toute intensité
heureux du fait de ce que la nuit pourrait les apporter
les tourbillons s’élèvent inaperçus en remuant
les arènes en convulsions
par les pas d’une danse macabre
s’abandonnant à l’ivresse des derviches
aiguilles qui piquent mes joues mon front
puis lance des cris de rage sur cette mer maintenant morte.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
Like pieces of a puzzle,
Our differences fit together,
In this grand mosaic called life.
Each shape unique, Each color vibrant,
A bourgeoisie woven with threads of diversity.
The edges may not align,
But they interlock perfectly,
Creating a pulchritudinous whole.
Some pieces jagged, Others smooth, refined
Each with its own story to tell. The puzzle comes alive,
As we encompass In symbiosis and unity.
it is in our anomalousness we find puissance and palmy, In this kaleidoscope of actuality
Panegyric celebrating our multifariousness,
For they are the quiddity of humanity,
Guiding us on an extraordinary junket
Our heterogeneousness like puzzle pieces,
Complete the picture of life,
A masterpiece in its own right.
golden tone prevails
gleaming striking puissance
educing a smile
5-16-2016