Best Ravines Poems
Amid the white patches of that mauve gracious dusk,
I bask in an awaited dawn since I found myself from a lost world
to win over my innermost conflicts at last,
I remember the spirit that rejoiced my tattered hopes...
~~~~~~My Phoenix spirit guides me in~~~~~
That mighty river~~
which flowed through rapids and ravines and
streams that mingled into it or crossed a path just once,
I remember the light which kept me sane...
The incessant cycle~~
of nights and days,
inconspicuous, anticipated, enchanting
I remember hushed whispers transforming into soothing lullabies..
That steady rock~~
which stands for ages facing all the odds
to wait for a pleasant morning,
I remember how it revived the withering moss...
That drop of rain~~
which poured to rejuvenate life in grief,
I remember how it soaked parched Earth in colors...
That winter breeze~~
accompanied by frost, undesired yet gleaming with delight,
I remember the wings that made it soar in the sky..
That lost alley in the woods~~
which guided voyagers even when nobody liked to walk upon it,
I remember the fire that guided a laid path...
That oak tree~~
which grew from a sapling when storms tried to uproot it,
I remember the courage that kept it upright...
The warrior who never gave up~~
despite the battles lost in the journey,
I remember the ashes that built her again...
The woman who found a life~~
growing from a naive girl who learnt from her mistakes,
I remember the dreams that revealed the mystery of love....
A light of faith, a ray of hope,
A drop of elixir, a soothing breeze
The fire that builds from ashes to rebirth
over lands to fly upon and rise
It guides me, lights me, loves me
While I rise to revive my hopes
I see a Phoenix engulfing my spirit.
May 26, 2020
Spirit Animal Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance(Dear Heart)
Winner: First Place
Among,
The towering mountains
Of
menacing fanaticism
And
In the midst of the shadows
Of
Constant fear
Agonizing humanity,
Desperately,
Is crawling in search of
The
Trail of understanding,
Praying:
That it would lead her
Onto
The valley of God-loving peace
Where
The people of the world,
Respecting the beliefs of others,
In harmony, would live,
Glorifying God’s wisdom that has saved them
From falling
Into
The ravines of voracious hate
Where Man's annihilation
Impatiently awaits!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
10 JANUARY 2015
While I gaze in your eyes, cool cerulean blue,
Sifting night, straining stars through morning’s sweet dew,
I can fathom the depths of empyreal skies,
Angels fluttering by, riding wild butterflies
While I gaze in your eyes, changing, aqua-blue greening,
I’m sucked into chasms, cascading, careening,
And yield to enticements which meekly disarm,
Seeping virtuous beauty, sad sensuous charm
While I gaze in your eyes, bleeding fiery blue
Ever tempting with treasures, with pleasures for two,
Being caught at the core of a blazing sapphire
Possessing, enthralling, aflame with desire
While I gaze in your eyes, misty emeralds, deep green,
Veiling laughter and banter, and echoes between,
Then I dream, so it seems, in whatever the place,
Of your scent, of your breath, of your radiant face
While I gaze in your eyes, at times placidly blue,
Near’ as calm as the weirs in the woods all bedewed,
Forty winks relegate to a shimmering lake,
Gently floating on lilies, while waiting to wake
While I gaze in your eyes, caught engulfed in the greens
And consigning my fate unto verdant ravines,
My reactions, at length, become shyer and shyer
Reminiscent of ravens at risk in the briar
While I gaze in your eyes, restless, hesitant blues
Overwhelming sensations with turbulent hues,
I’m succumbing to waves of a storm battered sea,
Being cast like a plank, never meant to be free
While I gaze in your eyes, shadowed, Midnight Lake green
Glowing hazy with dreams, misty thoughts so serene,
Sudden silence befalls me, a fast sinking stone,
Looming lost in your eyes, I am never alone
While I gaze in your eyes, saddened, lachrymal blue,
Spilling trickles of rain, pearls obscuring your view,
I’ll attend to your anguish and feelings morose,
Lightly kissing your tears, touching, holding you close
While I gaze in your eyes, pulsing infinite green
Of the earth and of heaven and all in between,
It is simple to see that my hands can hold all
Of the treasures I find which so humbly enthral
While I gaze in your eyes, when they’re bountifully blue,
I’m reminded, love’s lightning is granted to few...
While I gaze in your eyes, when they’re blindingly green,
I’m reminded, love’s lightning cannot be foreseen...
Yet I hope... and I wait...
amid scurrying feet,
in the whirling humanity,
with divided aims,
and sizzling brains,
she paused with singularity of purpose.
never in a hurry, more at peace,
on a park bench, alone,
bent and weird, she sat.
when she moved,
her bones creaked,
on rusty hinges!
ragged in dress, torn in body,
face scourged by Time,
its contours deep like ravines.
her withered breasts,
hanging like nests of tailor birds.
hair lying disheveled,
with eyes shrouded in mist,
she looked out into the sinking sun,
never dreading the darkness that falls.
the park bench was her temporary halt.
she sat there every evening
determined to live on,
with the coins habitually dropped,
into her outstretched hands,
by those sailing past her,
unobtrusive self.
like a monument of patience
she sat.
sat, so alone!
~ First Place Trophy Win~
Dec.16.2022
Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest. No.55
"Join hands to sweep clean of all dirt and preserve the pristine beauty of Nature to enhance the quality of living. If not, fear her lashing us black and blue"
-by poet
Nature, you are God’s lovely creation,
Dressed in grandeur, decked in regal beauty
You give us much scope for recreation,
Preserving your grace becomes our duty
Poets chant and sing in honor of you,
Sages withdraw to your silence serene,
Beasts and birds have found you as their sweet home,
Men find their sustenance and thrive on you,
Dales and hills – add to your bright sheen
The sky with its stars form your golden dome
Dark forests and running brooks lend you charm,
Deep Ravines spell your profound mystery.
It’s our duty to save you from all harm
Sometimes you baffle with your trickery
Always kind you are, yet some brutish men,
Dismally assault you, they maim and mar,
They suck your life sap – they leave you dry,
They keep on committing sin after sin
Your beautiful frame, to pieces they tear
With their selfish acts, badly mortify
You were once so temptingly beautiful
You could amaze and take our breath away
Looked so elegant, lovely and graceful
In scenic beauty, you could proudly sway
You were Princess of royal lineage
Been decked in brilliantly colorful shade
But your thankless children carelessly spread
Toxic fumes, carbon and dirty garbage
And all your wealth they callously invade
They will ooze out your blood and cast you dead!
May.4.2022
Form O-Ode- New Poems Poetry Contest
Topic... Nature
Syllable Count-10 per line
Sponsor- Constance La France
The mind is an universe of majestic splendour
The mind is an amazing, unfathomable wonder
The mind is a wondrous refuge, a perfect haven
The mind is a sanctuary, a gateway to heaven.
The mind is a boundless, priceless treasure
The mind is a source of infinite pleasure
The mind is an origin of thoughts and attitudes
The mind is a display of mercurial moods.
Now rising, now sailing, now soaring on wings
Now descending, now plunging into deep, dark ravines.
Around me in a seamless stream, leaves cartwheel in the wind
They tumble from the tall ramparts, then seep into ravines
I've stepped into continuum, to a world beyond compare
to catch the day's reflection in still waters of a dream
Beneath me in a sheltered cove, where reeds and cattails sway
a flash of green, where frogs jump rope, with goals to break the calm
Wind clearly shares a word or two, with ripples on the pond,
and sweeps the grass upon the glass that traps the falling sun
I hone in on a water-bird, who doesn't seem aware
He dips his feet, and I can't speak,…..afraid he'll scurry far
The tranquil day is worry free, and peace is my best friend
Again, to tease, the jealous breeze has stirred the pond's veneer
Gold stretches out a wonderland, no moment's hesitation
as the low wide arms of marshland spreads, and calls for rapt attention
I want to write a poem, a verse.....and curse my own distraction
My morning's gone, and afternoon finds splendor everywhere
The sky is bold, as day unfolds, beneath the fevered brow
Beholding beauty such as this, would cause the tongue to swell
Where the slopes of other places vie or longing eyes might dwell
The heart feels quiet sympathy, they cannot compare as well
O' mystery of what I see, I've learned, and I'm compelled
If heaven shines so beautiful…I can't imagine how
If heaven shines so beautiful...Oh, Lord, please take me now
_________________________________________________
8/14/16Inspired By the painting "Wild Symphony"
Contest: Wordscapes
Sponsored by John Hamilton
"the earth's dark veil slivered the heaven's,
crimson shadows birthed the moon"
Kristin Palm
Existence
"the earth's dark veil
slivered the heavens,
crimson shadows
birthed the moon"
into a thousand crescents
Every prayer, ever uttered
was written in the dust of
these forsaken ravines
Oceans flung their waters
into the wide heavens
of man's total Regret
There in the silent void
of consequence
the hidden forces of
Creation met
to silently knit
each shattered Atom
of beauty
into existence again
Suzanne Delaney
Three-hundred bodies shrouded in the snow -
stiff symbols of man's evil painted red.
Did horror freeze on the faces also
of women, men and kids who simply fled?
They ran from men outnumbering each one
of them and who with mountain guns shot dead
the half of them who had no chance to run!
Imagine fleeing, filled with so much dread.
Two miles some women ran to get away.
Unarmed and innocent, they must have pled
when found, but troopers shot them anyway.
At one dead woman's breast, a child still fed!
Some boys who hid were told they would be spared
if they'd come forth, but they were circled by
a number of cruel soldiers when they dared
to show themselves. Those beasts wished them to die.
The boys were butchered; then they lay in mud
along with their good fathers once so strong,
Ravines and hills were running with their blood,
and vanished now would be their Ghost Dance song.
This happened in my homeland of the free
but not so brave, yet twenty medals went
to men who took part in that killing spree
(said honor given by the government).
That cold bleak morning, few of them survived.
For white folks, though, a great new century
was just ahead, but all the dreams had died
for those Lacotas killed at Wounded Knee.
For Anthony Biaanco's Guns Contest
The croissants of buttered hills
glisten in the searing marmalade
of August's arid oven.
September's cinnamon swirl
scorches muffin-colored homes,
the flames smothered
as October rains
send lives and mud
sliding into the ravines
like apple butter.
On Thanksgiving morning
survivors eat fall's charred breakfast,
then praise God in church.
In the milk of spring
they rebuild,
just like the last time
and the time before that.
I view my hand. I see an ancient land.
A melanomic crater, deep in the desert,
speaks of greedy sun-soaked days.
Wanton then. Gone now.
Sparse wispy palm trees cluster,
storm ravaged, angled randomly,
now almost invisible,
now silver in the light.
Ravines compressed in lines
symmetrical, as from space,
appearing geometric,
requiring translation,
needing understanding,
awaiting exploration.
Ahead, beyond the fault line,
mountains expand and converge,
blue-edged and rising high
above the sandy plain, sinuous,
majestic, uncharted.
Stretching and contracting
as wrinkled parchment
in a shoreline breeze,
pointing the way to the long journey’s end.
Translucent and yes still beautiful.
A multitude of moments
has slowly wrought such change.
Soul-stirring eloquence silently tells
of times and deeds long past,
though yet concealing secrets deep,
of silken dreams within a lover’s sleep,
and memories of a sweet caress,
Over streams
or above deep ravines,
they cling to the earth that supports them.
Having borne years of burdens, their bones are cracking;
the splintery skin of their once-strong arms now rots.
Threatened by footsteps - though few - they groan. . . .
for time is deserting
old bridges.
(Not in a contest,at least for now.)
A buzzard from his vantage point of sweeping lofty heights
Enjoyed a cornucopia of captivating sights.
He soared above the rolling hills, the meadows and ravines,
His bird's-eye-view encompassed ocean blues and forest greens.
But once, a splash of colour made his sharp-eyed vision blink;
A stunning apparition dressed in fine flamboyant pink.
And like a ballerina it performed a pirouette
Then took a slow bow downwards as the sun began to set.
A beautiful flamingo in a lake of cobalt blue
Had brought a touch of magic to a buzzard's scenic view.
15/01/19
'Buzzards And Flamingos Poetry Contest' : sponsored by Anthony Slausin
2019 Poetry Marathon Mile 18 Mark Toney : 3/13/2019 N/A
Na Re-Run Poetry Contest : Sponsored by John Hamilton
22.06.19
To be lost in Her magnificence:
pristine and pleasant
alive every moment
renewing and moving...
To see the charm:
The charm of an Idyllic Spirit...
As I wander through
widespread wilderness...
My eyes' lenses capture
the flourishing bucolic beauty
of a breathtaking view:
a panoramic terrain of rugged hills
surrounded by grassy hummocks
beside a still lake - gleaming,
reflecting the highland and steep hills
in yellow dazzling sunlight.
The foreground is adorned
with sunlit grey pebbles
glistening in crystal clear water
of the shallow unruffled blue lake.
The silent brown hill:
rough, rocky and lofty;
Wildflowers and bushes
embellish the distant ravines.
The steep towering hill
seems to whisper a secret
to the fleecy white clouds
in the clear blue sky -
A secret no one heard thus far
in heaven or earth...
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 10 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mark Toney
Date: 09/15/2021
"L" Contest New Or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
II.
Liesel spent months worrying about this,
about dark minions and young souls that hurt,
she even started fearing for herself
for questioning the teachings of the church.
She did not want to damn herself to Hell,
but she couldn’t believe that it was true
that a loving God would punish children
for something that they themselves couldn’t do.
How did it make sense that helpless infants
could be punished due to their parents?
Why would they suffer for another’s sins,
how in the world did such a thing make sense?
But Liesel kept this turmoil inside,
and tried to just keep on living her life,
didn’t tell of doubts that haunted her thoughts,
or worried dreams that kept hear up at night.
It all came to a head six months later,
her neighbor’s new baby died in his sleep,
The town gathered up for the funeral,
to weep loudly, and to pour out their grief.
Liesel loitered near the back of the crowd,
every so often she glanced to the woods,
until finally she saw the woman,
and decided she’d settle this for good.
She crept out of her parent’s house that night,
made her way slowly down to the churchyard,
at midnight the old crone walked to the grave,
and from her cloak removed some sort of jar.
She opened it and stood there quietly
for a long moment, then shuffled away,
Liesel followed, determined that somehow
she would not make this foul demon pay.
Through a dark forest of eldritch oak trees,
where brushy undergrowth scratched at her skirts,
across gurgling streams that wet her feet,
down dark ravines where the wolfpacks still lurked.
Amidst calling owls loud in the night,
she followed that old crone through the wild,
she kept a good distance, forty paces,
her feet bled, and she wheezed from the trial.
Finally she came upon a small glade,
to the center of it the crone did go,
right to an old cabin that rose up there,
Over the door was a sign that said ‘Limbo.’
Her heart froze as the old woman walked in,
she saw the briefest flash of light from inside,
all of her reason screamed out, ‘You should run!’
But she couldn’t, no matter how hard she tried.
Some great force acted deep within her soul,
she couldn’t say if for good of for ill,
but Liesel found herself approaching the door,
simply a pawn to some powerful will…