Best Replays Poems
Music is an undying
art of soul ~
an abstract eden, where,
euphonious unicorns
glide in strawberry sonatas,
amplifying rhapsody in
ballads of flight,
when fuchsia feathers
tease those
jingling breezes,
infusing breaths
in every lifeless aroma;
where I can soar
beyond the
brushstrokes
of symphonies that
planktons sing to me,
in the requiems of
forsaken pearls,
crooning with
silenced shimmers
beneath wavy blues.
Maybe,
I'm a songwriter
without words,
and my electric fingers
trace the tunes
of serene strings,
when guitars weave
a sonorous guilt
midst ruby runes
of regrets.
I wish to keep
swinging in a
cosmic cadence,
where celestial notes
choreograph
themselves in the
moonwalking
mellifluence of
lunar legacies.
I gossip with
neon nightingales,
laced with neutrinos
and compel them
to chant those
healing incantations
of love and glory,
like the forlorn
princess - Rapunzel,
desiring to feel
the glow of
familiar lanterns,
winged with
hazy syncs of
unsung yesteryears.
I wonder if,
I'm not meant
to compose
crystal canticles
in a Disney duet,
for, I believe,
I'm a soul searcher
in the flesh of
a soloist, concocting
an elixir of my
existence through
cinnamon anthems
of mystical
moonrises, as
they softly unfold,
a million
unheard tempos,
within tranquil
memoirs.
I'm the 'maiden of music'
resting as a floret on
every sepal,
yearning to become
a unique acapella
of nature,
where empathy
has an ethereal
dialect of
nurturing spirits
and tinkles
of magical waterfalls
whisper in
gentle lachrymose lulls
of our ambrosial Mother.
When the harmony
of my voice,
kisses those
ivory keys of
the heart-shaped
piano, they
echo a tipsy secret
in my sunset skin,
making me
believe ~
"I'm everywhere
in the essence,
yet nowhere
to be found...",
like the sweet
scents of
hummingbirds,
smiling behind
that first dusky star.
"In each husky hallelujah
of ribboned halts and replays,
life is a song ~
where every lyric,
phrases an ember of end,
and when passionate heartbeats
shall knit sombre medleys,
I will hum in the last 'chef-d'oeuvre'... "
The days go by so faintly,
But the pain throbs in my heart.
I wish I could do this over,
And begin again from the start.
Words are scattered bullets,
That left my big mouthed gun.
They targeted my happiness,
And killed away the fun.
·
The echoes of the casings,
Still cling within my mind.
If I could touch Dali’s clock,
I’d repaint the hands of time.
To a time...when I was with you,
To restore all of my wrongs.
But this life replays to me,
Like a sad love song.
·
My actions are still hazy,
But the results are all too clear.
If I could cast some magic,
I’d snap my fingers to bring you here.
But life is not that easy,
We make things so hard.
What started out as easy,
Is signed with sorrow’s regards.
·
Man, I’m in a daze,
A dream I can’t wake from.
As the world moves around me,
My emotions are still numb.
As I achieve my accomplishments,
From all the things I do.
Believe me...they mean nothing,
If I can’t share them with you.
·
As you rest on your happy pillows,
I toss and turn on mine.
I have come to my conclusion,
That separation is divine.
Maybe one day you’ll return,
To color in this black and white sky.
Nothing I do...can reclaim you,
And only God knows why.
·
I’m speeding to get nowhere,
While staring in my rearview.
The road has gotten longer,
With still no signs of you.
My patience is on empty,
Burning fumes of creative wealth.
But when the rubber meets the road,
I did this to myself...
Dazzling starlight smile
a reason for existence replays
Exploding breathless within the mind
I am just following the heart
Holding inside a vision
One rose warm flickering candle
Time alone dreams walking along beaches
looking across oceans
Silent kiss dew of the night lost at sea
Listening to waves crash as the seagulls cry
to feel the wind through our hair
capturing currents deeply move
Wishing to share a good movie scene
especially if the story line's gripping
Enriched with beauty and gentle tranquility
when two souls completely unite hotly
Like a never ending fire through the night
Sparks will ignite a fireworks of loving grace
A life with love filled hope
Holding hands burning inside chambers warm joy
To melt freely into arms holding deep beauty shines
Hold me tightly in your loving strong embrace
never let us part ways ever
Each passing moon you become a superstar gleam
A world becomes nothing
if our dreams whisper away slowly
As this ocean inside deeply crawls
looking up with the head inside clouds
Destiny howls awaiting fates taste
sealed with the forever lingering kiss
Mystically enchanting a princess enters
through chambers gate a warm welcoming guest
As passion pervades into the moonlit night
darkness tastes from the light
Sparkling one golden sunbeam
a key turns with you
Growing stronger every waking day
The future is so brightly lit
an adventure opens scroll
Unwinding steps forward precious
There will be more moments like this
from the treasure chest of life
Priceless jewel illuminates
Anne-Lise Andresen, and Liam Mc Daid
A Collaborated Poem 26.10.2015
These nightmares feel real, like I’ve been here before,
I must be stuck in a phantasm of visionary abhor.
It was when my eyes closed that I knew this was an illusion,
now I’m tortured by this ordeal of agony and confusion.
Lost in a different dimension full of fear and regret,
Déjà vu of tormented realities I wish to forget.
Excuse me but I think there’s been some kind of intrusion,
will I awake once again drowning in smoldering sweat?
This happens too often and can’t be healthy anymore,
these nightmares feel real, like I’ve been here before.
These nightmares feel real, not fabricated from my imagination,
is this a telling of what is to come or a made-up creation?
Dread all day leading up to each night with insecurity,
the worry and fright of another eight hours of obscurity.
Apprehension takes over, I’m a lost woman terrified,
I start to become paranoid, I’m a coward petrified.
I cannot control these night terrors, this nocturnal anxiety,
I run as fast as I can, but there’s never a place to hide.
This regular occurrence has caused such daily agitation,
These nightmares feel real, not fabricated from my imagination.
I shall awake tomorrow morning as I do every day,
and at first everything on earth will seem to be okay,
but as the day draws closer to dusk my heart starts beating,
then the flashbacks of the nightmares keep repeating.
I am no longer safe inside this prison I call my mind,
I have become timorous and intimidated combined.
It’s so difficult to constantly be competing
with all the sane and protected people that I find.
How do I live with these nightmares my mind replays?
I shall awake tomorrow morning as I do every day.
It's all a messy blur I can't explain how I feel...
all I can say is that these nightmares feel real.
Nightmares - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
January 25th, 2018
The echo of the echo
In the minds of you and I,
It tells our lips to tell it,
It flies to make us fly.
The glory of the glory
That enrings our eyes like spring,
It lifts us in its vision
To wing and dance and sing.
The echo of the echo
Then replays again, remains,
Reverberating verbals
That rain and kiss and reign.
The glory of the glory
That is me and you, and we,
It soars in every story
That leaps into "agree"!
It dances up the hollows
Of our lungs and mouths and arms
Till world in world is whirled
And charms are meeting charms.
It touches lips with brushes,
Becomes a firmer sum;
Our inner lust of winning
Is one and whole and won.
The echo of the echo,
Oh, it will not die or go,
But ever be an echo
To show, and tell, and show.
When symphonic waves crash on soundless shores,
Listen to the cadence of silent seas,
He's a virtuoso of voiceless woes,
orchestrating pre-written faith, at ease.
For every tainted tide, transpires a tune,
If you lend your ear to the unsung sighs,
perhaps sonorous currents too would croon,
amidst ringing reasons that fall and rise.
There's a fine song for every shipwrecked heart,
entrenched in rhymes from the soul of sand dunes.
Healing comes through searing sirens as art,
rhapsodizing themes of roaring runes.
As waters whistle, hushed air ricochets,
resonating the melody of a dulcet dove,
breeze beneath ripples rewinds and replays,
in divine dialects through language of love.
Whilst chorus of crickets swiftly unfold,
allow nature to compose musings of the ocean.
Words can only whisper deep scars untold,
in poetic crescendo, that translates intense emotions.
I
am she
who seized the
storm and hushed the
Zephyr's rage to sleep;
the fierce within your soul,
the solace within your dreams.
I am your stained submissive lips
wanting, yet loathing; bare and alone,
oozing with lust filled memories; undone.
I am the bold stare when your eyes fear sight,
watching replays of your meant future,
whispering, I am no angel,
in your anxious, enthused ear.
I am your mind at night,
all you hold in sight,
your hearts lament,
deep inside;
I am
You.
Memories of once the sun shined,
oiled and tanned we denied
the only living book and subtle nudges.
Nothing but truth in the grave
when too in love with everything
reached the top and found nothing
but the pain of a flame’s dedication
and an absolute conviction,
replays the familiar
screams and whispers them.
Strain a touch through the glare,
but they ain’t there.
No one left to save us
as we find common grace
included tears.
-----------------------------------------------------
12.05.20
Inspired by the song ‘The Rapture’ by Puscifer
An open window frames a scene
Compelled obsession’s wistful sway
A metaphor imbues my dream
Entranced a moth, in porch lights gleam
Around it flits, a cruel ballet
An open window frames a scene
With you at night, the same routine
Your heart within a glass display
A metaphor imbues my dream
Unaware the faux flame's scheme
A driven urge the moth replays
An open window frames a scene
With fettered will and pull extreme
Your gravity of soul persuades
A metaphor imbues my dream
The glass I stroke as slumber weans
In crushing heat I fall away
An open window frames a scene
A metaphor imbues my dream
Along rails of ambivalent dreams,
Bittersweet yet luscious flashbacks
Take me back to my friend, the tactile moon – a
Quiescent basin of grace and alchemy: we would utter
And laugh about legends quite arcane from books
Chipped from eve’s daily flamboyant story – telling rites…
As willows stoop like night’s immolation for more
Replays of drama, our guiding star acts as an intercessor
For excuses to prolong near dusk's trail in our former home--
This quintessence of a young spirit’s hunger to journey
Far across moon-friend’s range in an endless, mythical glide!
11.15.16
Ten word challenge -2 for John Hamilton
A real man with morals and principles would never abuse a lady
how can a man beat a woman and drive her to nothing but fear
gone are the days when a man treats a woman the way he should
not saying that there aren't men like that but honestly they are rare
How can a man kiss a woman and then tell her that she is beautiful
yet when they disagree he is quick to slap her across the face
all my life I was taught that I should always have respect for a woman
so if I should abuse one to my family I would be the biggest disgrace
Any man that would hit a woman to me is nothing more than a coward
have you ever considered that she is somebody's aunt or their mother
I would never condone a man physically abusing his wife or girlfriend
I don't care who that man is it could be my best friend or even my brother
How would you feel if a man turns around and beats your only sister
I can imagine the threatening remarks or even the action you would take
you swear on your life that you would defend any female in your family
yet you hurt another man's family you are not a real man you are a fake
I could never beat or abuse the woman that I say I love and care about
the only time I would put my hands all over her is during our lovemaking
I was thought from a tender age that a woman's strength is her mouth
so I would save my energy for the makeup which is always breathtaking
women don't be fooled if a man hits you doesn't means that he cares
he tells you how soft your skin is yet he beats you all over your body
he then comes and apologizes and tells you how much he loves you
and later the process replays like beating you is his biggest hobby
a woman's skin is so soft and her touch is so delicate and tender
and yet a man sees it fit to hit her this is something I can't understand
I am glad I can stand and say that beating a woman is ethically wrong
I could never hit a woman and this makes me proud to call myself a man
so if you are a man that beats your woman honestly you sick my stomach
how could you say you love her yet you destroy her beautiful features
I think men like you should be condemned to hell on judgment day
I'm asking the real men to join the fight against all women beaters
By: Marlon Malcolm
A debris engulfs this mind
when a chuckle, a pirouette, a dream
ransacks wired thoughts--
and for once, I am a shrill :
Though weight presses on hardened back,
images dig dig through shovels of the past
to unearth replays from a year ago--
This breath throbs knowing not
how this grill of questions might assuage
brief frolics , as I look at birds migrate,
for whatever it is…
two parts from my heart of spade
remain divided , asking --
dear time,must I linger on
or forget a sister's once childhood romp?
Night withers amiably
still, the raking in my head persists, unless …
~
3.08.2019
A Scraping Of Shovels for john lawless
For them.
To her the word love refers to a boy.
Something she yearns for and misses dearly.
The day they met was cold and fraught with January chill.
“Oh, that does seem so long ago.”
That is the untarnished memory she replays over and over again when events in her life go array.
Back then it was tangible and real, their lives together had not been succumb to so much misery and woe.
They have triumphed, failed, and even caused each other more pain than can be imagined; But through it all they always walked the path together, holding each others hand.
She loves him unconditionally and for that some people cant understand but love needs no excuses, certainly not for them.
She adores him for working so hard, slaving to the man trying to base a future and a plan for them, but she feels guilty that their small American dream over the years has always led down a dead end.
With today’s hard times she knows they are not to blame, but still her idol hands carry burden with them.
A plot of land, a small farm, and a home to call their own so they may grow old.
that’s all the pair desire.
He loves her to, a thought that at times is unfathomable.
He admires her dreams, even if they are bigger than the world and never distills fear in her that they wont one day come true. She thinks ill rationally and believes in things as a child would, but this merely makes him smile at her spontaneous outlook.
To him she is like a wild bee, searching ferociously for something.
At times he doesn’t think she will ever find it, that’s why its so hard to see her cry.
Life hasn’t been fair for them.
It’s a tragic book that just keeps reading on.
But they muscle through living on their dream and knowing that as long as they have each other, everything will be alright.
And as they drive home to their house with no walls, catching glimpses of each other in their ratty car they don’t feel so alone.
Behind those blue eyes, she will be forever nineteen to him and to her, as she gazes into his brown large pupils; the boy she knows has grown into a man and at that moment they know, one day all the sacrifices they have made will pay off.
I don't have a title for this
But I promise that fear won't become my rival from this
I won't let a horrible moment make me suicidal from this
I have a lot to get off my chest but I don't have a title for this
I refuse to be broken so I'm trying to stay strong
but the flashbacks of what happened, are making every day long
I need to use this anger for something productive and not destructive
I need to find my own closure and allow peace of mind to be my justice
a night out with friends turned bad on my way home
2 guys approached me while I was on my own
They asked if I had a lighter, I told them I don't smoke, then one grabbed me while the other searched my pockets
He didn't take anything, but he touched me inappropriately and there was nothing I could do to stop it
I've never felt less of a man because I froze when he put his hand down my jeans
I felt too embarrassed and humiliated to try and scream
It only lasted about 30 seconds to a minute but it replays a lot in my mind
I'm taking it one day at a time, but I promise that I will be fine
I'm letting this be known because I don't want to bottle it up and have it affect me at a later date
I'm trying to not think about it too much, because my mind won't allow me to remember the guys face
I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing
Even though I was broken that night, I won't allow it to cause me continuous heartbreak
I don't know if I'll talk about this again because it makes me uncomfortable
Never again will I allow myself to be this vulnerable
I'll smile again and fear won't be my rival from this
This was difficult for me to write, I'm sorry that I don't have a title for this
Light pushes up against my guarded window
attempting to uncloak what lies untouched
warm amongst the darkness, the silence, the unknown
life of the living, the giving, but still alone
Where are you as my insides burn?
When I am here pushing but for what?
Death calls with a chance of revival
A saving grace from a failed suvival
No more replays of the same mistake
Searching for something I cannot shake
Take me now,
for life has spit me out
Take me now,
death come hear my shout