Best Reignite Poems
Oh beloved,
I'm like Rumi without Shams.
A shivering summer soul,
secretly stalked by wild white winter wolves.
A chiffon child chiselling chimerical calligraphy,
cursed with invisible ink, silent in sentimental sighs.
I've become the son of solitude,
tired from torture and torment,
descending like surreal sinking sunsets shaded in scarlet,
yearning for a dawn where we can blend like sunrise.
I have no desire to write, but you cut my veins to bleed.
What is pain without pleasure,
or a poet without his poetess?
Oh mistress of the night,
I'll forever wait for you to adorn my garden,
to finally inhale the fragrance of my roses.
I'm the oil lamp in all your blackness,
sometimes I may flicker like a candle,
but I will always reignite to create a spark.
The day you stop reading my musings,
my pen will forever slumber.
Oh daughter of darkness,
let me salvage your light, place it into your eyes.
Guide my quill to engrave upon your shores.
Together we will sail away from Satan's spawn.
I'll shield you from twilight's beasts,
protect you from demons with crimson claws,
emancipate your wings to fly from an illusionary island.
Because,
you love the moon, but it's the stars you gaze at,
hoping their stardust will illuminate your heart,
before they fade into nothingness.
Oh my seclusive sweetheart,
I will strum strings of serenity,
so you release tears of tranquillity.
I may not be the most handsome blossom,
nor the most popular prolific poet,
but I gift you my art and alliteration.
Some may say I'm romantic,
but I am no judge of what is exotic or poetic.
We can't put all our faith in petals and poetry.
I'm no emperor who deserves an enchanting empress,
merely a broken butterfly in your precious palms.
Life is an absent bride,
so I'm not afraid to bleed to death,
in the hope of soothing tomorrows.
Silent One
4 December 2022
There is a time for poetry,
a time for petals as metaphors.
There is a time to sing,
a time for lovers to serenade.
There is a time for music,
a time for harmonic symphonies -
and there is a time for silence.
In the world today,
there is no need for hypocrisy,
nor lies from judgemental minds.
In confusing times,
crows grin, as clowns and jesters
fight for imaginary thrones.
It is not a time to kill your voice.
As wolves imitate shepherds,
now is the time for peace.
A time to reignite the muse,
a time to douse the fire,
a time to express, a time to speak,
a time to write, a time to sing,
a time to play, a time to rise!
It is a time to write,
a time to breathe,
before it is time to die.
Simple Musing
Silent One
16 December 2018
Yes, that is the role of the Teacher, as Shams was to
me – showing one ‘who they are’, so they can stop
bleating, crying at night, and never again be afraid.
Rumi
Oh beloved,
I'm like Rumi without Shams.
A shivering summer soul,
secretly stalked by wild white winter wolves.
A chiffon child chiselling chimerical calligraphy,
cursed with invisible ink, silent in sentimental sighs.
I've become the son of solitude,
tired from torture and torment,
descending like surreal sinking sunsets shaded in scarlet,
yearning for a dawn where we can blend like sunrise.
I have no desire to write
in your journal of sorrows,
but you cut my veins to bleed.
What is pain without pleasure,
or a poet without his poetess?
Oh mistress of the night,
I'll forever wait for you to adorn my garden,
to finally inhale the fragrance of my roses.
I'm the oil lamp in all your blackness.
Sometimes I may flicker like a candle,
but I will always reignite to create a spark.
Change the eternal chambers of my heart.
The day you stop reading my musings,
my pen will forever slumber.
Oh daughter of darkness,
let me salvage moonlight then place it into your eyes.
Guide my quill to engrave upon your shores.
Together we will sail away from Satan's spawn.
I'll shield you from twilight's beasts,
protect you from demons with crimson claws,
emancipate your wings to fly from an illusionary island.
Because,
you love the moon,
but it's the stars you gaze at,
hoping their stardust will illuminate your heart,
before they fade into nothingness.
Oh my seclusive sweetheart,
I will strum strings of serenity,
so you release tears of tranquillity.
I may not be the most handsome blossom,
nor the most popular prolific poet,
but I gift you my art and alliteration.
Some may say I'm romantic,
but I am no judge of what is exotic or poetic.
We can't put all our faith in petals and poetry.
I'm no emperor who deserves an enchanting empress -
merely a broken butterfly in your precious palms.
Life is an absent bride,
so I'm not afraid to bleed to death,
in the hope of soothing tomorrows.
you say you
love the moon
but it’s the stars
you gaze at,
as you stretch
your petal-like fingers
to flaunt magical phrases
across nocturnal nights~
stealing their
fragrant florescence
within forsaken
liquified lights,
to make them an
unseen reality
worth reading,
as your charming words
woven with
wisteria wishes
protect them
from invisible ink,
that has been
burning empty pages
from fiery flames,
oblivious to the
tangerine truth
not every twinkling gem
can grant your wishes
to flicker caramel gold…
perhaps, you should
see the sacred
scriptures in silver
within lunar spheres,
how she carries
perfumed pain,
whilst remaining faithfully
as a fairy goddess;
beacon of hyacinth hope
when you were
in your
island of ignorance,
speaking the
lyrical language
of dimmed dreams in
sentimental silence
so don’t question her
wounded skin reflecting
confined absence~
nor blame the
sizzling sapphires
with her name sewn,
in vibrant violet
within the crystalline
cage beneath
crooning seas
she was never guilty
of lethal love
nor were her
emerald emotions
manipulative games
designed for
ephemeral pleasures~
she, was in
need of a
sublime rhyme
that can set her
healing heart ablaze,
reignite reasons to relive
promises made amidst
inevitable distance
but if pain prompted
a voice
you’ll feel her
bleeding soul
and her aching sight;
she’s seen so much
of what the dying
leaves and
falling season
could do,
yet, the wind
never revealed
secrets of the
sunflower crescent,
for her tale was never
meant to be
told to the weak~
trees with torn twigs,
too afraid to translate
heartbroken hymns
and eager to place
lambent labels
on wilted weeds
and faded flowers,
unaware of the raven runes
flowing in fickle flares
within their
stone cold skin.
The allure of mused poems,
No longer visits this nonchalant psyche.
It trickles now, once a roaring torrent
Now a lazy stream
Am like a desultory jaded heaven
Where starry jewels once decked the night,
But are now drossy shadowy blackholes,
And sparks and dreams,
Are ripped in the accretion disc.
No longer avid, but seeking meaning in the mundane.
No longer enraptured by the she said, he said,
And all that jazz, no iota of care; for trifling muses,
Their short goodbyes or critique, no not one,
Their infighting and bad blood, no longer,
No nuts to crack, nor rain to flush, no iota of care.
It was never about who is better,
Neither has it been nor will it ever be,
About any Magnum Opus.
Like doors closing and skies descending,
Each visiting muse devoid of ardor,
Oblivious to the yawning dawn,
Or the scent of sprouting posies.
Jaded, without allure or sheen
And devoid of all its lustre.
Maybe one day soon a spark will reignite
And reanimate this frenetic mused madness
But until then...
I remain adrift in this sea of trivialities,
Worrying about trifling stuff
Like ad blockers and AI opinions
And irked...
By their emasculating knowledge
Poem Of The Week(POTW) -9/15/2024 To 9/21/2024
In refulgence of the heavens above, where you are,
Amidst blissful angels, O, you are my northern star,
As I ruminate of selfless love, fond memories impart,
Emanating from treasured affections in my heart.
You are my hero, my holy guide, on this journey of life,
My endearing smile, soothing sufferings of strife,
Blossoming my dreams in your embrace sublime
With grace enamored, through tribulations of time.
Your teachings of morality, as earnestly I revere,
In your righteous footsteps, I endeavor to steer,
Feeling your presence, when every win, you still cheer,
Seeing me rejoice, O, you too shed a happy tear!
When I am gripped in grief, my mother, I hear you cry,
With every breath of my anguish, how you too sigh;
And when I am feeling lost, you are the guiding light,
Guarding me from harm, you are my gallant knight.
.
Pages of albums now bequeath, the venerable you,
Honoring gift of your love quite inimitable and true,
Reminiscing in elation, keepsake memoirs renew,
As embers of your benevolence reignite spirits anew.
Peace seems like a once-written myth, now blurred from sight,
like wrathful willows floating along sullen streams.
There, stars linger to trace lost love in twilight’s grace,
amidst the bitter cold wind roaring through the night.
But is a black rose not a rose if kissed with warmth?
When petals wilt, reignite kismet flames of light.
We are the poets of a crisp dawn sketched in gold.
Together, we erase veiled wrongs with ink so bright.
For hope can weave fragments of faith from lunar dreams;
love lost in twilight’s grace, there stars linger to trace~
verses to calm sinister skies of hate and plight.
Sometimes you can love with all you have.
Yet it is never enough to capture a heart.
Sometimes the love fades away over the years.
Hearts are broken without words even spoken.
How can it be that what you have is not enough?
When all you ever want to do is love and adore
What goes wrong when emotions so deep, so strong,
Can’t find expressions to reach the other heart
Yesterday's beautiful memories slowly fade away,
as the love in your eyes gradually dies.
What happened to the promises? Why has the love died?
I begin to dread the day you finally say goodbye.
Goodbye will never touch my lips while they yet draw breath
My heart still beats there, there in your hands, it feels, it bleeds
Though voiceless are the words it thunders, yet its memories speak
Louder than the doubts in your mind; will you listen, will you hear?
I hardly recognize this person lying next to me.
Is it that someone else has your heart, so you shun me.
What do I need to do to make you love me?
Or is this the end? Is my love not enough?
If you wander away, unable to stay, tired of delay...
Know this: my love is feeling and commitment entwined
My love is constancy and ecstasy reignited, redefined
My love is all you'll ever need, when tired, when you bleed
Do you recall the vows you made, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish.
Till death do us part, means you love me until death, not wish it sooner.
Life is a balance of holding on and letting go, so make up your mind.
My heart will bleed, but how can I live with a love that is not true.
Still the doubts that shout; still everything else but this....
Lay your head on my chest, and hear the thunder that prevails
This voiceless beating of words that courses through my veins
While this testament of life remains, my love for you will live.
Oh beloved sweetheart of mine, rest assured, I will fight for our love.
I will reignite that fire in your soul and awaken the ghost of passion.
I will become the object of your affection, the one you carnally desire.
You are my destiny and I, your fate, we merge as one, together and forever.
Silent One and Eileen Manassian collaboration
25 August 2015
Your teardrops fall like drops of rain,
splashing against your broken heart.
And subjected to years of tears,
paper promises fall apart.
Your fate is all too familiar;
you meet the soulmate of your dreams.
And then, doubt somehow surges up,
initiating silent screams.
Reality is awakened,
by the sound of a slamming door.
And you're no longer able to
reignite love's flame anymore.
Reacting to fading feelings;
hope morphs into pain and remorse.
For on the pathway to your heart,
love irrevocably changed course.
You experience depression;
love's departure seems surreal.
And you rely on time to help
carry you beyond this ordeal.
don't tell his mamma
how the sun did not rise today
although it was a cloudless dawn
he could only feel the coldness of rain
don't tell his mamma
how he is hiding his grief
although he may not flow in tears
he is consumed with sorrows
don't tell his mamma
how he is trying to ignore the demons
although he looks strong
he is crumbling inside
don't tell his mamma
how he sits alone in his room
although the lights are on
he can only see the darkness
don't tell his mamma
how lonesome he feels
although he is loved and adored
he feels no one really understands
don't tell his mamma
how only melancholic songs appeal
although he is silent
he plays them on repeat to help him feel
don't tell his mamma
how he has not eaten in days
although his pantry is full of food
he no longer feels the pangs of hunger
don't tell his mamma
how he can no longer control his thoughts
although his mind is sane
he did not sleep all night
don't tell his mamma
how he feels there is no cure for his illness
although he has pills galore
he feel they have no impact
don't tell his mamma
how he feels he has lost his purpose
although his garden still blossoms
he can only see dead blooms
don't tell his mamma
how he searches for a father he never had
although he is a role model to many
he is a guide without a mentor
don't tell his mamma
how tired he has become
although he will continue to smile
he is not afraid if he does not see a new dawn
don't tell his mamma
how he ignores my voice
although he can hear me
he refuses to reignite his fire
please tell his mamma
how he does not want her to worry
although he is falling
he knows he will get back up one day
Echoes and vacancies
Where you used to be,
Is a reality,
I refuse to face.
Instead give me your face,
Look into my eyes,
Allow me to touch your nose
With mine and
Simply, not ever let you go.
I want to inhale you
And exhale me and
Become one over and
Over and over again,
Fully clothed,
Naked souls and
Until mathematics beholds
The theory of two being
Synonymous with one.
Give it to me.
Give me your past and
Your fears and your last
And your tears
So I can hold it up to the light,
Examine it and reignite
That part of you
That sings good night
With a smile on your face,
Just because you know
Your place
Is absolutely beside me.
Give me all of you.
We deserve it.
In the winter of my mind
my heart remains frozen,
memories sweet still unwind
love long forgotten.
Oh, how I remember
such romantic sunsets,
when we held the moon
in enchanting embrace!
Something did sway
as love soon blossomed,
and left my ambiance
recklessly abandoned.
Flowers in my heart
will curl up and die,
if not awakened soon
by a vibrant butterfly.
Don't come knocking
if you don't wish to stay,
don't hurt my feelings,
mean what you say.
Bring back the persona
that once gleamed,
burning fire in your flame
that has since dimmed.
I see your silhouette
longing for passion,
I'll open the door
if I see true compassion.
Arrive at the sundown
to whisper in my air,
like the nocturnal moth
circles the moonflower.
You'll need to reignite
visions that fell apart,
to thaw frozen feelings
and wake up my heart.
Placed 3rd
October, 17, 2017
Wake Up My Heart
Sponsor: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
Has my breath of life expired?
My will congealed
No longer is there a fire ablaze, only a mere pile of smoldering ashes Waiting for a gust of hope from a van of an angels wing to
Reignite me!!
I don’t believe in quittances.
I’ve grown mute to the whispers that surround me
Thoughts in braille; unfelt
Unbeknownst darkness has stolen my sunshine
A cuddling pet name, once adored, now froths at the heart
The patriarch is old and withering; yet still carries the vigor & roar of a young lion
And here I stand on charred timber limbs
Tar seeping from every pore, collecting me into this web of darkness
Too many years I’ve wasted in this labyrinth, drowning in my own womb; wishing for some knight to free me my from the entanglements
No longer am I willing to live in this catacomb, amongst my skeletons and beloveds
Trapped in this dark maze, I must rip through this veil of dust and find my way back to the garden
truth imbibed
awaits assimilation
we feel it in our bones
in time dissolved meditation~ Unseeking Seeker
When the sun sleeps and the stars rise, close your eyes,
for there, within the sailing flickers of time,
you’ll feel the electric warmth of cosmic sighs,
caressing the soul chakra with bliss sublime.
We are silken fragments of engraved moonlight,
manifesting miracles from the truth traced,
while flames of dreams reignite colors so bright,
tuned in sync with the magnetic beams embraced.
And here, in the halcyon arms of silence,
I thread faith with thoughts of love, erasing fears,
releasing dimmed sparks from rays of resilience,
as truth breathes sweet elixirs from lotus tears.
In the hushed state of roseate reveries,
I hear songs of solace from the seventh sphere,
quenching greyed petals wilting in miseries,
for I am my zen, cloaked in crystals so clear.
Let faith dissolve blurred lines carved within jinxed art,
follow the softened storms laced with forgiveness,
trust in the sage stillness of the mindful heart,
incensed with peace, veiled in redefined kindness.
O glorious glow of the Almighty’s light,
allow my spirit to bask in the restful
quietude composed in diamond-glazed delight,
embodying luminous lamps, so zestful.
Mesmerizing trance
Seductive dance
Bouncing flames
Endlessly change
Feel fire’s soul
Rising from the coal
Warm and inviting
Seductively enticing
I’m drawn deep inside
Where the secrets hide
Where oxygen thrives
Keeping flames alive
I want the heat
the flickering beat
as flames rise up
and then retreat
Starve the fire
of oxygen and wood
and it’s soul soon dies
As a human life would
Comforting to know
that it burns for me
I need the certainty
Even when I can’t see
Near enough
to feel the heat
Wanting consumption
to feel complete
Against my will
Denying the thrill
I hesitantly turn
Fearing the burn
Nurturing the fire
Takes more than desire
to watch the flames
as they dance higher
It’s the core inside
where life resides
flames now retreating
Fire’s heart slows beating
Embers glowing
not ever knowing
Will life reignite
or extinguish tonight
Knowing that soon
With naught to consume
Fire’s beauty will just
Becomes ashes and dust
Blackened and dark
No hint of a spark
Feeling the cold
Fire’s secrets untold