Best Pulsed Poems
There is an abysmal void in the hollow of my breast
where once my heart pulsed, now weak and weary.
I cannot quell emotions your death has repressed
since our cord of silken threads has come unraveled.
Malaise in my heart leaves me cold and dreary.
I long to embrace you on the doorstep of time,
never allowing it to deprive me of you again.
I ache for the warmth of your breath on my nape,
and inhale the virile scent of you that lingers.
From these cherished memories I seek no escape.
Chilled are my nights, even beside the fireside,
while reading romantic sonnets you wrote.
I can quote your verses, every line in verbatim
but the sound of my voice in an empty room
leaves me yearning for silence, death by garrote.
I swear I hear your steps over thresholds I cross.
Wisps of your hair remain in your bristled brush.
Your laughter seems to float upon the air,
and your footfalls tread upon the creaky stair
until I whisper, "It's not him. Hush, please hush."
Dear memory, how long shall you torture me?
Each reverie, a dagger thrust to its hilt in my heart.
Answer me, when shall I live a life of quiet repose?
How long shall I be haunted by the illusion,
of the man who vowed we would never part?
Timid is my approach to the room's tenebrous corner.
With his vestige close, I cling to him in the night.
Our shadows dance. In his arms, I'm swept away.
With each swaying step his presence I garner,
as we waltz across the room in the glow of moonlight.
November 26, 2022
2022 Poetry Marathon ~ Mile 21 Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
Categories:
pulsed, lost love,
Form:
Rhyme
Hibiscus rays of light herald
sun's stretch from night to twilight
in wakening blooms of ravishing red passion—
Oh! how I despise dawn's
blushing optimism and lust for life
for I am too young to cry but too old not to
featherlight the dandelion puff
as zephyrs blew seeds of our fantasies
free to fly the whims and sighs of our summer days
till breezes laid our pixie-dust down
wishes taking root in fast flourish—
pollen-plush dream-weeds grew in fields of gold
champagne flowed voluptuously through our veins
we laughed and pulsed with ambrosia-arousal
and with every nectarous nip
we lived as though we would celebrate love
f o r e v e r
a handful of heartbeats ago
we crystal-gazed into moon’s silver circle
believing in foretold fortunes of our future
our mythologies shaped in affectionate frescoes
sculpted softly into plum-dyed skies
constellations born from fireworks in our wooing eyes
—until the heart-twisting dawn-to-dark
when a cloud of angels cradled
sun-gilded harps
against their white-rose-hearts
teardrops in ecstasies of grief and joy
strummed celestial strings in virgin blue glissandos
lifting his lustrous soul away from me— lifting him
across the bridge to bliss —somewhere beyond me
and behind snowy veils of virtue
I am anemic
if not nothing now
adulterated
by loss of innocence
dwindling
in a dreamless star-broken state
unoccupied
but for the lurid loss that fills me—
and my black skies storm with shrieking tears!
Categories:
pulsed, bereavement, death, innocence, loss,
Form:
Free verse
A steady hum vibrating one constant low
Surrounding me in tiny hummingbird beats
The two giant fans warm and hot breezes blow
The fuzzy sound vibrates on pulsed in it’s drones
All vision blurs dimly in dark shadowed heat
A steady hum vibrating one constant low
The yellow window’s shade drawn down indigo
Gaze at it’s outline, with my hands on my feet
The two giant fans warm and hot breezes blow
My round Papasan chair of plush wicker holds
My languid form as I relax there complete
A steady hum vibrating one constant low
Within the dark, my lap cat’s bright green eyes glow
I’m clothed only in my silhouette’s repeat
The two giant fans warm and hot breezes blow
Reflect in beta waves of calm peace I know
On blue walls, my fairy outline shifts and beats
A steady hum vibrating one constant low
The two giant fans warm and hot breezes blow
Categories:
pulsed, introspection, peace, uplifting,
Form:
Villanelle
A stairway of tinted boulders reveals
The fable of old gods marking a past,
Etched on tall red-stones divinely claimed…
And as I ascend to touch a warm glow,
My feet quiver among hallowed mounds
Of blazing rocks, of sacred pillars.
In awe, I listen to Jordan’s songs
As one city’s heart flames through Siq winds
Humming through early noon’s desert trail
Which climb inside my pulsed breath…until
Tears stumble into a warm prayer
On a rosy frame of blest temples.
Journeying to Petra silences me,
From tribal gems and inlay jars soaked in moonlit dust
To camel rides with Beduoins exploring a grandeur
I can only own within my thoughts…
For its mystique spreads on life’s essence
Where I greet the humble soul within.
Foreign Travel Contest
For Thvia Shetley
Submitted 9/26/2017
--------------------------
City of Petra, Jordan-- one of the 7 wonders of the world
*Siq-- the entrance that lies between
Petra's red-hued mountains
Categories:
pulsed, appreciation, places, travel,
Form:
Free verse
Inside the darkness of womb,
like a closed bud, yet to bloom.
Buried deep in a watery tomb,
my life pulsed, I knew no gloom.
My comfort zone, my cozy home...
love flowed freely...like a cloud I roamed.
Curled up nine months in my kingdom of care,
those moments of share, so precious...so rare...
And then!!... "Oh my God"!
In a sudden,...they cut the umbilical cord!
I was afraid...cried aloud for aid...
A gleam of light I found all around.
I no longer felt safe and sound.
And then!!
A stranger unknown... to her I was shown.
She was so much my own..
My lifeline... she was mine.
Screaming in labor pain,
Still calm she had to remain.
To bring me up...she knew,
She could never again complain.
That day "we" were born together..
That day,.. I gave birth to my mother.
Date written: 10th August 2018
(First poem with which I started my entry to Poetrysoup)
Sponsor Silent One
Contest Name Your first poem on Poetry Soup |
Categories:
pulsed, baby, birth, care, cry,
Form:
Rhyme
One rare night
fell
midnight blue
as a multitude of stars, like lofty thoughts,
pulsed with light,
confessions from
the depths of twilight’s essence - sky.
The poetess, ensconced in her small room,
reached down
deep inside
her soul of indigo.
Immersed in the profusion of her thoughts,
she felt compelled tonight
to search for only those that shone. . .
Ignoring a collage of ideas
which summoned disillusionment
or inspired remembrances
of bitterness and pain,
she moved a pen across a journal page.
Words upon words radiant with hope
began to flow. . .
As eventual as the overtaking of
the poetess’ rare night by morning’s dawn,
completion of her work had now arrived.
Surprised to be so pleased,
the poetess discovered that all the while
she had been
delineating stars.
3/3/2011
For Mark Toney's the '2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 22' Poetry Contest
Categories:
pulsed,
Form:
Free verse
As darkness descended on our valley -
deleting purple and violet from the sky -
my beloved and I lay upon a blanket
soon gazing at myriads of twinkling stars
that pulsed their pearlescent shine as if to music.
Goddess Luna showed herself full-faced -
lovely, round and luminescent.
Immersing us in summer’s nocturnal sounds,
a chorus of katydids and crickets
were singing to their mates with chirps and trills.
My love declared that nature was crooning
a melody just for me!
Then playfully he said he wished
to snatch some stars down from the sky.
He’d string them together,
fashioning them into a pretty necklace
that would sparkle against my alabaster skin.
He looked up at the moon then,
teasing me again with his sweet words -
that if he could, he’d capture moonbeams
and press them into a stone
that shone as brightly as
my eyes were glowing that precious night.
That gem he would set inside a silver ring.
Serenading me, he’d place it on my hand.
I would be the Goddess Luna, and forever
we would radiate our love for each other -
resplendent like the shining moonstone on my finger,
and together we would reign
with me beside him as his gleaming queen.
Categories:
pulsed, romantic,
Form:
Free verse
...the birds having nothing on you
each tasty morsel drips
deflowering of night
and day
where sun has chose to stay
close
your lips to mine
piercing the aire
beheld in Pierian time
kindled and caressed in kiss
late night hours waved
as arousals arrive
and reside
touches pulsed by rhyme
symphonically conduced
more than mere interludes
that never conclude
stillness our tune
ignition the flame
morning whispers
silent into eyes of Jade
hesitating, she breathes once more
meandering Elysian fields of gold
Categories:
pulsed, beauty, kiss,
Form:
Romanticism
young moment spills
of fragrant wisp
imbuing new romps
that oh I taste
freedom again...
pulsed, enticed
by August's play--
a cycle in pure heat
lusting after joy, passion
in kiln of night's rapture
POTD award
Categories:
pulsed, august, happiness, summer,
Form:
Verse
Galactic curls in spirals swirl, entwining twisted mystery,
where time unrolls in blackened holes, no longer bright and blistery,
but writ like runes on starry dunes enclosed in cosmic history
Galactic dust, from novas' gusts, congesting empty spaces
once fatefully flung beyond the tongue of burnt out astral traces,
may recompress and coalesce in distant times and places
Galactic dwarves, like ancient wharves with silent planets mooring
yet still in spin though long done in, hide flares no longer soaring -
magnetic webs of eons ebb, in thermal fusion roaring
Galactic tides warp space divides, call forth sublime creation
while bending clocks in rippled shocks, unfolding time dilation
that seems to crown the flowing gown of pulsars' pulsed gyration
Galactic stew, a seething brew, midst background noise and chatter
like Chaos reigns, the sole remains of missing antimatter,
with just a trace to form a space-time, curved or somewhat flatter
Galactic glue holds something new: dark energy and matter
that interacts and counteracts the ancient Big Bang splatter:
a cosmic soup of strings and loops, a universal batter
Galactic life's replete and rife 'neath lactic milky wafer,
though solar gales leave unseen trails of cosmic rays, the strafer;
but nonetheless, one must confess, it seems there's nowhere safer
Submitted 21 Aug. 2016
Categories:
pulsed, science,
Form:
Rhyme
I stood amidst the maddening crowds
drowned in cries of disarray....
Something about this gentle captive
Encouraged me to stay.
Through the crimson rivets flowing
his eyes they pulsed with love.
And through the swarming sea of fists
His gaze was cast above.
They kicked him down, with every lunge
a vicious spite fuelled taunt...
They marched their prey atop the hill
to torture kill and flaunt.
I braved the writhing mass of spite
as i was in his debt i felt.
I shuddered at his broken form
every open wound and welt.
His mouth grimaced in sheer torment
as nails were driven to his wrists.
Blood thickened on the sun scorched sand
trickling from his tight clenched fists.
They mounted him on the cross
As he was raised for all to see.
Anger toiled deep in my heart
as the high priests howled in glee.
All silenced by his final cry
his broken chords in lamentation.
He wailed unto the heavenly Father
The God of our creation....
Father God forgive them.. for they know not
what they do ...
Love was spilt from the beams that bore
The man so pure ... so true ..
And as he hung his deadening glare
which faded in affection..
Death had lost its mighty sting
as he awaited resurrection.
Categories:
pulsed, faith, religion, god, god,
Form:
Light Verse
Revisiting our ancestral farmhouse
I feel this certain tinge of aloneness,
Which smudges the lively remembrances
About a big clan huddled together
Under narra trees, each Sunday…a frolic kindled
By Grandpa’s recycled stories about literature,
His passion for Cole Porter’s music,
And the grace of old jazzy temperament…
Oh, we would feast on homemade shrimp balls ,
Roasted calf, an array of fragrant tarts
While infants and elders jiggled
Under the chain-link glow of skyscape,
Where my childhood, teen-hood heart
Pulsed, was even fed with many a summers’ delight.
Then…in a dash, this rustic view quelled us—
It was a terror we called a slap of reality
An impertinent fire flattening our homestead,
Just like that, like that: How bitter this pastoral thieving
A madness of doom I need not wish to recall--
Except for a torn violin retrieved among cinders
Leaning now around my grownup arms:
I kneel beneath moonshine, singing myself to sleep.
-----------------------
Remembering What You Want to Forget Contest
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues 10/7/2018
Categories:
pulsed, longing, remember,
Form:
Free verse
No one knows where it happened
and no one knows when or why,
the little, luminous silver star
came tumbling from the sky
Landing with a plunking sound
falling helplessly into the river,
this tiny piece of heaven on earth
became a gift without a giver
For it found itself upon the shore
along the waters of the stream,
and was discovered by a boy
who thought this was all a dream
Held within his small hand
the star pulsed with white light,
glowing with such brilliance
almost blocking out his sight
Kept secret and stashed away
where it could glow no more,
the star found itself among the dust
inside of an old wooden drawer
To him the star was a plaything
to be treated like a favorite toy,
until one day it was forgotten
by the man, no longer a little boy
Since no one ever told him
to wish upon a falling star,
and believe in the things unseen
his dreams never took him far
Had he been taught to wonder
just think what might have been,
still there is no way of changing
what happened, now or then
The fallen star waits here still
in the drawer of his old nightstand,
cornered there by a spider's web
to be found by a young dreamer's hand
And no one knows what happened
and no one knows where or why,
to that little, luminous silver star
who came tumbling from the sky.
Categories:
pulsed, dream, fantasy, star,
Form:
Quatrain
The left handed boy with a stick in his hand drew a row of hearts
across the sand. Tides crept in and washed them away but he
drew them again the very next day..
A girl pinned a heart on the arm of her sleeve. It rhythmically pulsed and
began to breathe, open to all to give and receive..
Children colored hearts and kept in the lines. They gave theirs away
as Valentines..
A teen carved a heart in the base of a tree, professing his love
til eternity..
Two lovers soaked in a heart shaped tub, their bodies intertwined
in an intimate hug..
A life is now gone and laid to rest while their heart beats on
in another person's chest..
Categories:
pulsed, heart,
Form:
Light Verse
I saw you face your lover; you both made
a pattern quite distinctive in the dark.
Silhouettes on the window shade displayed
two hands that met two others; formed an arc.
The hands, from arms outreached, delivering
their upturned palms that now together pressed,
could not release nor stop their quivering,
anticipation physically expressed.
Then two who stood behind a window posed,
at last fell trembling into love’s abyss.
Love’s essence on the shade was then transposed
as bodies touched and mouths met in a kiss.
Your shadow with your lover's intertwined.
A valentine pulsed on the window’s blind.
Sept. 11, 2017 for the Silhouette Poetry Contest of Craig Cornish
Categories:
pulsed, love,
Form:
Sonnet