Best Ramblings Poems
I feel the water
above me
below me
all around me
intimate
caressing
accepting
loving me
I go further down
to touch the bottom of the pool
and there
on the two painted dolphins
I push my hands down
and my feet break free from the water
shooting up into the air
my handstand
For a moment
I revel the erectness of my form
My legs above the water
the water trickling down them
slowly
I bring them back down
and burst out of the water
head and chest pushing out
Hair...laden with water
swung back
spraying a trajectory of liquid crystals behind me
I take in the air
I smile
I live
I breath
my arms move back and forth
I dip in again
then swim to the far side of the pool
I hold on to the metal hand guards
Put my legs out on the side of the pool
Knees bent
I push myself below the surface
looking around...
my playground
the water, my home
I'm in my element
I'm free
weightless and happy
the muffled sounds
and dancing lights on the surface
flirt with me
I stay for as long as I can
then I break the surface
Floating on my back
I look at the sky
I feel sublime
chest and tummy tasting the air
I'm there
There
where in my mind
I'm beautiful and divine
sultry mistress of the water
he's touching every part of me
I'm free
I'm free
Jade
I am never as happy as when I'm swimming....the pool lets me be more creative, but I also enjoy swimming in the Mediterranean sea. I've been called a dolphin.... I'm more like another aquatic mammal at present, but even those creatures are graceful and beautiful in the water. Summer is coming....
Somehow in the late of nighttime,
a wooden door's front lantern brings
me to a table where strangers
from a distant tavern grow more animated
with a litany of stories
and ramblings inscribed on their life’s hinges.
Varied tones reminisce detailed inlays
of personal anthologies framing their eyes
with joy or regret, etched by languid memories
as I listen to orations of wise men and laborers
where intimacies are safe inside a door...
each one relating a brew of sentiments
over mugs of ale and wine.
Just then, I hear my own man’s language
reflected through the crowd’s noises,
piercing my flesh with a tinge of awareness...
while opening the doorknob, I begin to search
for him under a vault of moonbeam,
reminded now of the times I forget
to understand his longing to connect
with me ,to embrace his thoughts deeply
in silence...without question or restraint.
---------
6/21/2015
rob carmack's Screwed V
Theme: door
A line in a poem must never stray
A word in a line must know its place
For every action we take, we create
We change the order of things
Molecules, atoms, DNA, tones, notes
All connected, like water between ripples
Snow crystals in avalanches
Our hands gesturing in the air
Create movement, small folds in time
All in orbit like the cosmos itself
As gems fill the sky above every smile
As friendship exists without definition
But colours life, world and universe
***
July 6, 2017
Copyright © White Wolf and Darren White
Everything is not always just black and white
hidden beneath what we think we know
are the blurred version of what is really real
and what we perceive to be real…
Our hopes and dreams might not manifest
in the way we envision them
but somehow between what we wish
and what our faith sets in motion
things that are meant for us are born,
birth from a tomorrow we didn't know existed
Yet,
It will mean the world to us,
if not today maybe the next day…
It's all part of living
between what we thought
is black and white
and what is hidden
beneath the tinted shades
of hopes and dreams
we never knew existed…
© All Rights Reserved
Contest: Inspirational
6th Place
I wanted to hug you tonight
even though it would not ease your pain
I wanted to say it would be okay
even though your eyes had lost their shine
I wanted to be the ear that you needed
when your hurt and pain flowed from your lips
I wanted to be all that and more
so much more
I wanted to say that I love you today
even more than I did yesterday
just to say that it felt good
that you trust me enough to share it all
even though
you felt the need
to say sorry
for being sad,
sorry for
sharing your pain,
I want you to know
that sorry has no
place in this space
310720111510
Cut my veins
Drink my filth
Bite me
Corrupt me
Take me away
Make me whole
You are Satan’s Minion
I am your Eternal Damnation
Give me life, give me need
Cut my wrist and make me bleed
Through these veins dead blood flows
The sins of the heart breed jealous fiends, and dark desires.
Burning, bleeding wounds caused from blood lust and loneliness
Are the harbingers of sins of the heart. Let me die of broken spirit & destitute heart.
Let me die. Just let me die.
Blood is dripping to the floor
Feels much better, I hurt no more
I’m numb inside and feel no pain
One of these days I’ll empty my veins
Kill me
For my life Is meaningless
Who by fire
watches the earth burn?
Who believes that matter
is neither created nor destroyed?
Who burns their bridges behind them
after walking across its form?
Who swims the water's edge
treading through its unknown depths?
Who drowns his spirit
in alcohol, drug, and opiods?
Who lives only for today
when tomorrow is on the horizon?
Who still believes in God
after everyone claims to fall away?
If time and life teach us lessons
then why do we never learn?
Who by fire
denies what lay within their grasp?
Who thinks out loud
and wonder who is listening?
I used to complain about having to work at night on weekends.
Everyone was having fun but li'l ol' me.
Some years back I had an epiphany on the matter.
Suddenly, I had time to cash my check AND pay my bills!
Then, I might possibly catch a movie, which has plenty of seating on Monday nights!
But my favorite part is: The People Zoo.
I started visualizing folks in their cubicles and at their counters as exhibits.
You find mostly monkeys in cubicles working for some government agency.
The sharks you'll find in the car lots and on showroom floors.
The insects buzzing and dutifully mimicking their peers are found at schools.
The buzzards and carrion feeders can be found at law firms and in courtrooms.
The bulls and bears can be found scrapping it out on Wall street,
While the elephants and donkeys exchange insults on the TV monitors.
The pigs are found cruising the streets making sure the rats and snakes don't take over.
The blood-sucking Vampire bats can be found working for insurance companies.
BUT.......
Just a warning: Most of these exhibits offer you no protection from the brutality of nature!
There are no tour guides and no guarantees of safety or fun.....
And, one more thing: They will eventually come to see you in YOUR exhibit!
Pugnacious mind of mine
Seeks an end to this winter fog
Your ramblings, on and on
I close the shutters, for spring is not in sight
Pig manure emasculates the air
Not a farm in sight
Your ramblings, on and on
I find solace in the bedroom closet
I hear the car door slam
The front door slam
Your ramblings, on and on
I chamber the round then nothing but stars
I
one Fine-
morning when the garden was misty-
ethereal the beauty
birds mellifluous
brouhaha loud and donnybrook
a gang came
fluttering over the fence and
canoodled the flowers
sweetly
when the day was infinite serenity
the birds
lilting and murmuring
loud and donnybrook
and buzzingbees were buzzing
from jewel-toned and eye-catching blooms
oh
summer
and
the
sun-kissed
color-infused birdies
loud
and
donnybrook
II
here there
sweet butterflies
breathtaking
gamboling
delicate wings
always a-fluttering
insects
dilly-dally flip-flopping
hummingbirds whirling
a black cat licks
his lips
whiskers twitching
sneaky shifty
lissome fearless hunter
sneak-a-sneak
slithers
woosh watch out hummingbirdie
with your pretty wings
fly away fast
faster and faster
for the cat is a hunter
the cat hunts
the cat
quiet and deadly
go
dancing
hummingbird
hummingbird
turning
twirling
spinning
III
raven hair-tangled girl
gathering daisies
pansies
wildflowers
And drip-dropping petunias
in this sun-drenched garden
stops to gongoozle
and a butterfly drifts-
upon the gathered-blooms
________________________
August 15, 2016
Poetry/Free Verse/Garden Rambling
Copyright Protected, ID 16-818-665-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Today my friends I’m really pissed
to think of all the times I’ve missed
the chance to find the part of me
that sets my place in history
No fame or fortune would I find
but just connections in my mind
that let me know that I exist
and not the one that history missed.
What purpose in my earthly role
why now does time require my soul,
if actions history rearrange
what is it that I’m meant to change.
What part of me must I employ,
should things I do bring people joy
or am I meant to balance fate
and simply ballast to add weight.
Sometimes I’ve had the chance to play
a part that history may say
has altered pathways of the mind
by writing words of rhyming kind.
Alas unless I’m read by more
I never can be very sure
that poet’s curse set down in rhyme
can justify my given time.
So please help history on its way,
read Ivor’s Ramblings today,
this way I’ll know I’ve played my part
by offering the world my heart.
Ivor G Davies
(available at amazon.co.uk) (:
or can be read freely at my sites www.ivordavies.co.uk or www.rhymingpoet.co.uk
It was just another December day
Not cool yet - due to global warming they say
I’d taken leave and was feeling restless at home
A bit depressed and all alone
Stepping outdoors would do me good
Walking some miles would change my mood
As I stepped outside and turned right
The sun was bright and gradually reaching its height
Past the kids I walked, who were out at play
And headed for the busy highway
Walking along the asphalt road
Past the hospital crowd of anxious faces of young and old
Crossing giant pillars rising from the ground
Supporting prefab blocks and tracks on which carriages would move around
Changing gradient and plunging underground
Carrying masses to work or passengers homeward bound
Not finding my rhythm, I retraced my steps
And headed west, to a lake which comforted me in bygone days
The park around lay ravaged by our man made ways
Trees which survived and construction equipment were cloaked in a dusty haze
The Metro eventually would connect the city’s east to the west
For now, winter’s migratory birds have forsaken this haven of roost and rest
And we are anxiously awaiting this work to end
Allow time for Mother Nature to heal and mend
Ramblings On A Winter's Day
© Ben Burton
Of all the words that have been written
And all the words yet to be writ
Few will count, most will be canceled
When time records the final answer
Without paean, rhyme, or wit
Before Old Sol makes his transition
Displays the sign, "Closed for expansion"
The final breath will be approached
From a bird, reptile, more likely, a roach
Primeval forests won't make a sound
Since consciousness will not abound
Or exist at all
To hear that tree fall
The good, the bad, and in between
Quiet laughter, tortured screams
What's it all about, Alfie, anyway
Who's on first and where's the corn flakes
We decide, no they decide
Whose safari gets the guide
Hope and change as advertised
Hope for mankind exorcised
What of the spirit, yea, the soul?
The twentieth century knocked them cold
Man is but the smartest mammal
Education through the Learning Channel
Discovery, Science, Nat Geo, too
Where ancient beliefs were never true
Celluloid shape-shifting mores
To the left of Sodom's fearless forays
God and Christ a running joke
Knaves out punking guileless folk
Too cowed by PC to revolt
Elites created their own lord
Skint the flock they didn't abort
And raised a toast to global warming
In aeons, it should be alarming
Shed no tears for mass extinction
Utter chaos knows no reason
Yet, somehow, formed a grand design
Without an author, no mastermind?
In truth, a black hole has more purpose
Than a rabbit-hole world forlorn and rudderless
Where Chicken Little has the final word
Because the righteous lost their nerve
Rolling away, strolling aside,
Sleepy contradictions drenched in gold.
An image taken, picture saved,
A tiny tribute of memory to hold.
My England. For you are mine,
And not mine. Everyone's Never.
For once would you show me shine?
A prize that I will love forever.
At the fading of the day. Twighlight.
You tend towards a deeper hue,
But I sense and behold this place,
My England, the night of you.
But why do I love you? So dear.
My fickle, boastful friend.
From sun up to sunset. The day.
Then till your night greets its end.
I cannot fathom my patriotic pride,
Yet, you simmer in the half light,
Tearing love from my insides.
To me, all flaws, out of sight.
Smokey skies. Low Fade. Soft shade.
Echoes of pastimes, inherent to history.
Night screen. Moon sheen casts on,
My starry land of mystery.
In the coastal forest at Odiorne Point
Paths meander under and over
Bramble so odious as to create an impenetrable wall
And distant sound of swell and surge
My nose recoils from the endless spoor of sea
Where upon a rustling of leaves drew my attention
To the vain wanderings of a scant grey squirrel
If I were a meager rodent of the furry tail persuasion
I would have purpose, direction, and courage against the iron horse
However, I am just a man of no resolve, course, or valor
Therein lies the rub
And coastal jaunts should never be made by depressed men