Best Reappearing Poems
Ripples
A sudden chime reiterates
She touches the world
A fingertip
And ripples sent
Resolves
Inward
Feed back
Distant
Hits resounding light
Fluent curls
She signals
Waves repeating
Sent ripples
Outward
Washing through
Eternal
A holding breath for a moment
Landscaping emotions
Swell
As she dips
Down upon the re-entry
Calling ripples sent
On waking
Reappearing
Gathers the hems and skirts of beauty
Reminding
The day turns
Me on a pendulum swing
She senses me
Ever to her
Ripples sending
Returning
And every morning I stand and wait
Looking over the edge
Out over a precipice
Waiting
While the cool morning winds are warming
I hang in a moment
She touches the world
Rippling
Consciousness Correction – 11-20-23
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Consciousness Correction
Envy sneaks in unseen
A thief robbing light from my house of gratitude,
Sowing simmering anger, extinguishing thankfulness,
In blind yellowed views
Gratitude held captive,
Strangled,
Pennies of “I wish” tossed into stone cisterns
Where winter thrashes cyclconic -
Vortex of a gleeful witness to spring’s demise -
Dead-ends swell in jealous broken branches,
Wrapped in near sighted stigmatisms,
Lenses smeared in covet.
Stone citadels rise from my naked spite,
Blind to confessions of incense,
To curl into deep pools
Poisoned by tainted pools of jealousy,
Creeping to the heights of entitled grudges.
Yet nascent vines, fragrant with focal points,
Blooms of correction,
Slip between crumbling buttress mortars,
Sachets illuminate good will
In wreaths of newborn appreciation
That knows its need for candles of kindness
My thankful eyes, that walked in darkness, see
To embrace armloads of miracles come into focus
Reappearing from soot blown corners.
Scales fall in melting flakes
From my bloodshot eyes,
New sight nourished in a corrected wash -
Sweet nectar of reckoning
By a brilliant polestar of clarity magnified
Opaque about-face.
Failure can never define
My emotions I shall iron
They say love is devine
Change I want,to my state of mind
For my only thoughts is you and I combined
The art of us brings me joy
My heart is playing me tricks like a toy
Failure can never define
The love I have for you,is devine
This cardiac tumor in me is benign
For it shall do me no harm
As long as I have my emotions ironed
My emotions I shall hide
For my state of mind is us combined
The laughter you bring
Did I just mention the butterflies
The red hearts reappearing from my eyes
As my retina interprets the view
The view I have when I see you
Thinking you my boo*giggling and blushing*
My state of mind
You are the ray to my photosynthesis
It may seem early to say this
But you my friend,you contain me
Like pollen grains and the bee
We share the unsaid
Even my smallest atom's shells
Orientate on you
You are my state of mind
Nothing is turning out like I wanted it to.
Everything is now black and blue.
Wrist cut up with a sharp blade.
Blood rushing out like it's being made.
Thoughts of death running through my mind.
Nothing is clear to me, I am blind.
What's going on?
Scissors are suddenly being drawn.
My end is near.
I can see it start to appear.
What you thought were funny jokes.
Made me want to choke.
Prank calls, blocked messages, statuses all calling me names.
You all have caused me so much pain.
Whore, ****, *****, cow, fat, ugly reappearing in my head.
I don't know what to do anymore but lay in my bed.
Who am I supposed to turn to?
I have no one but you.
I dream at nights about not being here anymore.
I don't think I'm a whore.
I have a plan now.
Explain it to me now.
I've got a gun.
It's all been done.
I'm leaving now.
Goodbye everyone, Goodbye forever.
I saved you from saving me, I had no choice.
I drown every time I see you.
I am sinking facing you, you are still- eyes wide shut.
I am paralyzed in fear, disappearing today together,
Hopefully tomorrow we could both be reappearing.
I cannot save anyone, and I know that you were told,
Someday I would save you. Dead Again Together.
Panic and pain mourns the fact that I could never be your man.
I only knew my mother's womb, through flesh, I transgress.
Only spirit abandons the soul, as the soul is locked forever in the past's tomb.
Where are your father's hands, he can scoop you out my dream.
The man that your Daddy was, does not reside in his dream that you
painted, pure nothing until tainted.
I can only save you from comfortable bliss, holding your head into the
blazing mist, that you and I somehow miss.
Denial acts innocence and the verdict is lost in the incessant wail,
Damned forever, by love, living in the static of our singular dream.
I never wanted to infiltrate your freedom. I pushed you in, and so I must drown with you,
We are sinking closer and darker, the floor is where we will disappear,
I don't want to disappear, the floor like smoke, I remember how to choke,
My favorite teacher has now become a preacher
and so we gently touch the bottom and a blinding silt swallows us into the oblivion
of all.
THE FOUR SEASONS
Spring is the season that many love best
Of things to come and thoughts of the worst gone
With many an old favourite plant reappearing now
And a great deal to ponder over and to select, perhaps to buy
A new freshness in the air for all to feel and enjoy
Summer we find the heat that’s graved by all
Delicious smells of the wood smoke of the barbeque
Competes with the fragrance of the most beautiful flowers
Colours so varied in the garden, flags, awning’s and chairs
What such a delight to sight and senses we have
In autumn the colour palate changes again
To gold, red and brown and the many stages in between
A delight to the artistic eye, along with beautiful a sky
Evenings grow cooler and we wish they would not
And though we know it’s about to change we would rather it not
Winter comes in with quite a shock, rain and wind and many a gale
It grows so much colder, so snuggle around the fire under the comfy blanket
Roasting ourselves and toasting the crumpets for our tea
But the one bright and happy thing in this season is Christmas
Brining many a dreamy smile and happy laugh in this blustery time of year
7-4-2016
A steel sky, wan and dull, littered
With ragged clouds and
bitter dregs of a world girding for
Sleep
But no rest
by day, draws a frame over grim roofs and vapid doorways.
Indolent breezes rustle debris past shuffling feet of
Staggering fools and
acrid night-women, stirring tepid
Air
Heavy with the smells of too many
Unbathed nights and wretched days,
Witness to a thousand acts of lonely love
Purchased with tears money and scraps
of ego.
Lank buildings throw shadows and hopeless glances
Westward, patiently aware
That neither relief nor sympathy
Is at hand,
Complaining
In blind suffering beneath layers of paint and lurid grime,
Defenseless against a shadow-world that gnaws and mauls
And drains them dry of
life: they stand in fear of
Morn
Which heralds familiar scenes
Of disrupted peace,
Ghastly bits of deathly, decrepit life
Like giants reduced to shivering terror and
helplessness.
Street lights, harsh against the dawn, sickly,
Cast unholy light
Over faceless shadow-figures gliding
Past
Silently
On unearthly legs, moving on but never gone, always
Reappearing in frustrating repetition of an act
Too oft repeated
stripped of novelty but not of
Pain
Laced with overtones of ghoulish
Fascination, ashamed and unresisting,
The nagging quease of small, unseen, and vile wrongs,
Awaiting the bright too brief relief
of day,
Whose destitute sun waxes brighter by small degree
Chasing shadows and shadow people
To the farther horizon
(Far
But too close)
Shadow presence only masked by the quickening light of one more day
Dawning grieved and heavy over Sodom, a dread
Eternal duty
repeated eternally at appointed
Hours
Done and done again in gray shades
Of memory, ritually pondered
In the half-lit pause between the night sounds' ceasing
And the roaring halcyon of yet another
still-born day.
This was written in the wake of a 2:00 AM tour of Times Square in 1977. Could be any decayed urban area. I have seen many.
When I appear there Nature seems to
Dance and dance and dance,
When I disappear she is prone to
Weep and weep and weep.
Withdraws all clouds from sky to set a
Splendid scenery,
So that me rising from the river
Afresh may there espy.
Whether it sun or shower or snow or
Storm, when I arise
To set my arms, the setting Sun
Certainly will be there.
Women who go to the river for bathing
Choose my choicy time,
So that there they may bathe in warm and
Yellow sunshine time.
Now here a plant blossoms and blooms and
Soon another there,
Here Spring is reappearing, with her
Bring all beauties back.
Nature is dancing with her rhythmic
Steps and divine smile,
Why can't I row a boat here swaying
To and fro on waves?
The valleys wear their flowery carpets,
And the mountains are
Once again clad in colours, such this
Sylvan scene is set.
White cranes are there always on serene
Haunted islets sit,
Or stand by whiter cows there grazing
O'er the lushy green.
Suppose some Beauty glance and dance in
This wild atmosphere,
Then surely that's a dance to see, when
Mother Nature dance.
So Nature takes the pen out of my
Hands and writes for me,
May that there me, the clouds and cranes and
Cows and waves witness.
On cloudy days, practically there will be no sun to see. But it was my insistence that when I rise up after bathing in the river and look up to the sky, the sun should be there in the western horizon for me to worship. If it is a heavy raining day, I will select the time to go to the river according to when the rain will have a possibility of abating. Even on the heaviest raining days in the east, nature is benevolent enough to uncover sun at least for a few seconds. I will select this time to rise up from the river with my eyes closed and fervently wishing for father sun to be there when I open my eyes. With closed eyes when we look westward, standing river fresh, I don't know what makes it happen but the sun will always be there though sometimes be for only a few seconds. It is like this life-giver listens to fervent wishes of his off-springs and grants them.
A Poem By P.S.Remesh Chandran. Editor, Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books. Trivandrum.
Read more about our views on poetry and about our various poetry editorial services, kindly visit http://poetryeditservice.blogspot.in/
Slinger
Waiting on the day
for the Swallow to transmute the air
between this ether and yours
patterned after an annual bedsheet
and full of a chest
swelling with blood
and a face
as forgotten as chests
buried beneath sea tides,
legendary rainbows wide
over forgetfulness -- subtle forgetfulness --
collecting material for a nest; a grave, sour
maw of disappearing Now
reappearing in your eyes
next to anti-eyes
'ere smilin' hell at this faster incompletion.
Tiptoe.
Mirror
Select. Load? Holster. Stalk? Draw.
"Do you have a moment, Miss Seer? Look what I've drawn."
Bourbon. Ex-mark. Tattoos. Born. Into
This.
Surreal. It Does. Only
Roulette. Hocus Poker. Reaching A Final Frontier
Divvy:
Brown Eyes
Coal Eyes
Wall Sockets
L.
Fire Tides
Genocides
Suit Pockets
Knell.
Slinger
You perceive a safety I count on
as we all fear we will lose
something
crucial? What is ever crucial if already
revenants bustle chameleon beneath city lights perfectly
regarding lights in wonder with other --
revenants.
I will appear before you
suddenly in the park
"Eden!"
you will laugh as though subtle darkness is a magic trick
and those anti-eyes will hide true feelings behind laughter
and I will shudder -- I once wore them, too --
and I will perceive these two sets of eyes before me,
Yours and Not Yours,
who cannot tell that this varsity jacket will soon hide more than
Sin. On your face. Syntax; Synonym; Smiling -- Antonym.
Drawn. Holes. Your face -- too memorable -- too
unforgetful, they dream
Forever Now. Beyond Sleepy Hollows.
Dying by first light,
living beneath your iron sunsets?
Your red roses kissed blooming
out of your neck?
Forever; Us; Chasms,
Angel.
Mirror
Silence. Darkness.
Each Day. Random.
Today? No.
Where
is
He?
Tiny toes,
Little footprints
In the sand
Each following
One after the other
Wandering
Sometimes up a slight rise
Sometimes
Close to the water’s edge
For a moment
Blurred outlines lost
Reappearing after the wash wave
Pray little footprints
Be always safe
Life and strife
Can wash them away
But only love
Can make them stay
Self belief, I have always had,
Even if it waxed and waned.
Not liking the cold,
It sometimes disappeared underground,
Only reappearing when the daffodils in full
Bloom announced spring was here.
Year by year as I grew older,
It grew bold and strong,
Taking the lead whenever doubt slowed me down.
While I have secretly welcomed the change in it's demeenor
Lately I have come to the scary realisation
That others have been watching it grow.
And now they have started to believe in me too.
It really has come as a bit of a shock,
To find myself in this unfamiliar place,
With what I say and do,
My good and my bad
Influencing others.
But it is too late to turn back now,
I have looked into the eyes of those who have hitched their star
To mine.
It is time to face this new fear,
So as not to let them down.
But now if you will excuse me I think I
Should go and build a glass house,
So I can have daffodils all year round.
Snowflakes falling, big and small
It's freezing, Mr. Frosty on his way
Have to make sure to give a call
My house is where he will stay
Stand there proud as can be
With a checkered vest, three
Buttons made with stones
Then a tie that's very fancy.
A nice black hat, two eyes
Made from coal, and a big huge
Smile, right under his carrot
Nose, kids he's ready to amuse
No pipe this year, decided
To quit smoking, unhealthy too.
A good example he wanted to be
For the kids he would have to see.
He is magically reappearing
Right there in my yard
Turns around to wave, and
My house he will guard.
Not sure how fond I am of this write very different style to my usual genre. #experimenting
Well look whos back again
My old compardra
My closest companion chronic pain
What a lovely way to see in the new year
And spend new year's Day
Alone rolling around the bed
Unfortunately in agony
How romantic I bet it said
Maybe it is all in my head
My imagination running wild
Shame it's come up with something I dread
Why can't it just leave me alone
Is it intent on constantly reappearing
Till it's isolated me from everything
and everyone one I've known
Maybe I don't want to be alone
Maybe I don't want to be stuck in my head
Listening to all the negative things it's said
I just want to be free,
free of the pain and misery
It teased me for a time
I thought it had said it's goodbyes
But like a predator
It just allowed me enough time to recover
So It wouldn't all be ended and my casket buried
Before it pounced like a panther
And it sunk it's teeth in
right next to my gugular
Its not finished with me yet
like it would grant me a quick painless death
Why won't it just leave me be
or do the kind thing and put me out of my misery
Surely I've done my time served my servitude
Paid my pennants for whatever crime
Will it not be satisfied till it spills my blood
Or has me hung drawn and quartered
In one last final act of vengance
To inflict the ultimate pain on my broken body
Must I scream like William Wallace for freedom
Will it then relent and show me mercy
I think not, I think it thrives on my cries
Like a psychopath It smiles at my demise
I bet it loves to just sit and watch
Yes it's back again
But this time I don't think it sees the need for a reprieve,
this time it's never leaving it's not stopping
Because it has no plans on ever getting going or being gone.
Obviously I've got a lifers debt left owing,
it would no doubt say sing.
On a rainy gray Friday
I sat and thought of you;
thought of prices paid
just for your company;
thought of lonely days,
silent days, lengthened days,
with no sight or sound of you.
It’s not the past I fear,
but the future I dread.
A future with no certainty
except of pain and longing,
never satisfied, eased only
for moments, reappearing
stronger for the respite.
Submitted Aug 30, 2016
I
the yellow cries of creation burn in the subjective sun
staring rays of perdition’s psalm acidic as sinful balm
sear the fear of tomorrow’s bones into fleshly operas
observing with scientific malice the malady of romance
…the ghosts dance on quantum strings
…stars fall into amnesia vast as innocence
II
the roaring morning voice lies in mourning
bled beyond the hum particulates wonder wide
wavering worlds of whispered war rendering
deeds and passions severed from the stream
…lost survivors bathe in black flowers
…applauding the deconstruction of love
III
crying carnivorous caves leak scenes
painted with weathered fingers dyeing
dreams of the hunt levitating raw eons
climbing piles of souls claiming realms
…reappearing yields banish wishes
…angels swish across bedrooms blushing