Best Resuscitated Poems
TO A POETIC TIME LAPSE
As the sharp rays
of sunlight slowly sliced
through the tarrying tinted clouds,
I wiped away the web
of darkness of night;
broke off a piece of time
and used it to scrape away
the corrosion of agony
from the heart of my mind...
and resuscitated my eroded faith.
Today I will open
dusty luggage of creativity
and pull out wrinkled war worn words:
etch ebony emotions of long lived life
onto refined pulp of trees;
weave soul stirring songs;
mould scented flowers
of peace and love; justice...
feel the breath of God
warming my serene sweet soul
while feathering the nest
of my pregnant poetic mind.
Categories:
resuscitated, allegory, emotions, simile, word
Form:
Free verse
She walked along the warm and salty beaches of a Bahamian dream, while the radiance of the suns kiss danced on her honey baked skin quickly painting a caramel hue of beauty. She illustrated the kind of beauty that his wonderings were just surreal of the real queen he crowned. She was not the usual epitome of the beholder, but in his eyes, she permeated his soul that soaked through every space once filled with fantasies of melancholy that were nightmares of a dream. She restored his happiness that was void but had been resurfaced by her glorious existence.
Now he did not quite showcase the handsomeness of the handsome but in her eyes he caught the salty streams that walked down her face many times but now exhibiting hope of despairs fear of joy and peace of a piece of his lost but resuscitated heart. With future wonderings, they are their personal personnel of the task, job hired by the almighty of heavenly white without any shades of pink slips between iridescent fingers entangled as one beautiful piece of lace that laces their hearts. Their destiny is only determined by an infinite possibility of infinity that may be…or not.
Categories:
resuscitated, destiny, together,
Form:
Free verse
I observe the only leaf descend
from the bare maple tree winging low,
drifting and freely curling amidst
the nipped air to quiver on the damp alley.
It joins about a larger heap--
all leaves rustling together in place;
that watching their frail body- movement,
a line of tear flows down on my cheeks.
Strewn about by the restless blow
of the wind, they tremble up and down
as if to linger in a final circle of a waltz:
How far the springtime while gust
of flakes trail without pause...
It is already late January, yet
icy breeze grows more harsh more cruel
with the ruin of threadbare leaves,
laying like a hearse dumped by thick mantle
of frost...grasping for a tinge of ray
which could somehow bring or stir back
any sign of resuscitated glow... instead,
this foliage bleeds a final glory
mirroring my numb love that dies with them
to vanish into the night... ashen-black
while I shed another tear and another.
Best Free Verse This Year
Contest of John Hamilton entered 3/21/2017
Categories:
resuscitated, absence, love,
Form:
Free verse
Fall cold rainy days
Crisp wet leaves
Twirling and waltzing
Flying and floating
Riding October desolate gusts
Retro tunes that resuscitate
Memories of young love
Echoes of how I love you
Deep in the heart
Awakened by the sound of
Walking through wet fallen leaves
Ever so close as one
Holding on tight
Isolated in a cold sullen world
Warm enraptured hearts
Under a shared umbrella
Alone together
Along a silent canal
Riddled by a multitude of raindrops
Anxious to seek shelter
Ever so content
Creating memories
AP: 3rd place 2022
Submitted on April 1, 2018 for contest LOVE POEM sponsored by HEIDI SANDS - RANKED 4TH
Categories:
resuscitated, memory, october, rain, romance,
Form:
Free verse
Her hormones fled the coop
on scalding tires.
He drifted into her,
working the night-shift
of a traveling fantasy.
Motel maids were her sisters
bars her occupation,
a place to work
on the aerobics of hope.
Their love
was an unhygienic affair.
Everything spilled out,
much maintenance
in putting back in.
Emotional jism
was scrubbed by hand
until skin-tight excuses
glistened
milky as mollusk flesh.
They had lots to attend to.
Feelings had to be
daily resuscitated
into former victimized forms.
He would not leave;
she would not go.
He anointed her again,
and again
with his pity-me flesh.
Their mutually dependent rodeo
played itself out
on the steps
of a haggard tomorrow,
both now blinded
by owl-light.
Categories:
resuscitated, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Storge:
It’s hard living with a broken heart,
fortunately for me, my heart resuscitated with your breath of life.
Giving me what my heart was missing,
you revitalised love, granting the type of support needed to survive.
Philia:
Never mistaken or misconstrued,
you are both honest and open in equal measure.
Craving no friendship other than ours,
we share a bond deeper than any ocean treasure.
Eros:
When laying in the sheets,
I stare at you and find it difficult to speak.
feeling intense passion,
made perfect by our serene marriage at twin peaks.
Agape:
Realising I am living destiny,
no longer shall my inspiration ever starve.
With a smile that overcomes everything,
I am complete; cherishing our forever love.
For more poetry goodness visit www.checkmyflow.co.uk
Categories:
resuscitated, devotion, girlfriend-boyfriend, love, passion,
Form:
Couplet
Here I am just a little dot to signify the end of a thought
Should I go here. or maybe there.
Ah, just use a comma, it will not totally interrupt that thought
Whoa! Wrap it up with a semi-colon;
Her thoughts just keep jumping
Maybe I'll type on the parenthesis(and slow them down)
Where am I placed anyway?(question)
First row ring finger.....
Oh! She found me now the page is filing with dots...............Stop.........stop.....
Me the period a writer's friend~~~
When I'm properly used requires a breath________
Breathe now......Breathe now..
Are you resuscitated yet???
Tuesday, September 29, 2015
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi
Contest: Punctuation Personification
Categories:
resuscitated, funny,
Form:
Personification
Verbum Caro, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s Verbum Caro by T. Wignesan
Glory to the resuscitated Lord
Incarnate cry of the Flesh becoming Verb
The body is not the place of death
Where the soul feels alright despite revulsion
He who holds his nose
While passing his house full of droppings
Whatever be said : My flesh my pigsty
It is he the tomb requiring cleansing
A body all armed comes out of me
From the invincible nakedness
Fomenting peace in the midst of war
He’s of an innocent cast of mind
As virile as the sun
His worth illuminating the earth
The world is set on his head
The man straightens up It is midday
(from Les Jours de la Passion, first published by the Abbaye de la Pierre-qui-Vire by the Editions diu Zodiaque, 1962)
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Categories:
resuscitated, religion,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Asclepius is staring at the beam of a balance,
heart on pan and gold bars opposite
the heart is pastel gray the gold is glittering
the heart not beating the gold glaring blinding the eyes
he ponders which one to keep in order to satisfy his desire
as well as to honor the Olympians: just keep the heart to satiate
Hades by adding one more straying soul to populate the netherworld
and Hera to bring one new life to make the earth younger and more vigorous
but, since he is a medicine god who’s priority is to lessen pain,
comfort grieving hearts and cures diseases, he decides to repair
the heart, his delicate handiwork and magic-touch resuscitate
the heart and make it beat again. Each time the heart beats,
it gets heavier and thereby the beam tilts to side, the gold bars slide
to the heavier side and fall from the pan.
In a moment of bewilderment, Asclepius grabs the gold bars dropping
the resuscitated heart that is, now, beating and pumping air, and in that moment, Alas! a bolt out of the blue struck him and the gold bars in his hand turn to dust.
Categories:
resuscitated, allegory, god, life, money,
Form:
Free verse
You whisper softly to me
and I enchanted, respond to be
You whisper me from a distance
and I reply demure in silence
You whisper softly to me as your hazel eyes
sing, revealing unsung tributaries, dreams and realities
Your inviting lips lusciously unfurl with savory tales
You listen to me and I am demystified
Your face a vacuum- formula that initiates my creativity
You whisper softly to me
And I am left speechless, resuscitated and quenched simultaneously
You whisper softly to me
And I am stilled in suspensions of grace
You whisper from a distance
And I am captivated as you appear dedicated
Your sway whispers sensually
And I am forced to redefine, explore and reexamine the definition of beauty
You whisper softly
And I can only imagine what it’ll be like, having you in my arms forever.
Categories:
resuscitated, love, on writing and
Form:
Free verse
Tammy lived a reckless and careless life.
She answered to no one, lived by her own
rules.
Tammy has been on her own ever since
she could remember.
The streets were her home; she lived the
street life.
The average person didn't mess with her;
because she had a bad reputation.
Being the girlfriend of a notorious gang
leader had its ups and downs.
Rival girlfriends of other gang leaders
would constantly pick fights with her.
On a night near a desolate alley Tammy
got caught slippin.
She was walking by herself; she didn't even
have any protection.
The rival gang saw her and beat her senseless.
They left her for dead, a homeless dude found
her and ran to get help.
By the time the ambulance found her, she had
lost a lot of blood and had a faint pulse.
They rushed her to the hospital, she flatlined,
but they resuscitated her. However, it was touch
and go….. … they didn’t know if she would live
or die… her life hung in the balance, and it
was touch and go.
*caught slippin
to be caught off guard, in a very bad way.
Contest: This Or That
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
04-09-2021
Categories:
resuscitated, conflict,
Form:
Free verse
REVENGE IS SWEET
Once upon a time
almost toothless
The hunchback hag picked
~ a juicy red apple ~
With malicious intent
Toward her stepdaughter foe
The sinful fruit
~ perfectly round ~
Like her snow white face
The mirror mocks
The wrinkled old witch
As she removes the core
~ the apple’s heart ~
Her oar-like spoon
Spurs on the arsenic solvent
~ just right ~
unaffected she sips
licking her lips
She fills up the dropper
~ the mirror shatters ~
The hag’s clinched her fate
~ the mirror darkens ~
The dropper invades
The beauteous orb
~ no longer cherry red ~
Innocence lost
She grows darker still
Wrapping her figure
In a stygian cape
What does sin smell like?
It is subtle like sweet sweat
Tucked into body folds
Of a seemingly
~ helpless old lady ~
The raven leans upon her crooked cane
~ kindly knocks ~
she hears the whistled tune
Of spirited youth
Maintains her composure
She presents her voice
With a charming shake
~ Serpentine ~
Dancing flute-like
Into the innocent girl’s eyes
The girl thought it strange
At the slap of her hand
When she attempted to choose
The reddest fruit
Convincing - this charmer
~ choose this one ~
~ take a bite ~
Bitterness
Tied her tongue
Closed her eyes
Folded her legs
The witch threw her cape
Over her head
Cackled
Thinking herself the most beautiful
But the crimson red
Of the supposedly dead
Would soon be kissed
~ resuscitated ~
By a wandering prince
They were all the rage
In the day
Roaming the wood
Looking for damsels
~ In distress ~
The wrinkled face
Of the honest mirror
~ repaired ~
A pretty lady holds court
“I ask thee mirror,
Who is the most beautiful
In all the kingdom?”
“Dame, your heart is dark”
Taps foot
~ impatient ~
“Mirror!”
The mirror chuckles
“Red lips most kind,
Have been revived!
Snow White lives
Lovely as ever!”
Her scream shatters
All the palace’s windows
Her stomp
Sends her
Straight to hell
~ And yes for most
There is a happily ever after ~
1/26/2017
Categories:
resuscitated, anger, beauty, sin, vanity,
Form:
Free verse
We can speak an entire conversation for hours without a word being said
With each rhythmic movement
We create waterfalls
Like snowflakes falling down
All around us
I am practicing my martial arts
Since first I saw you
No one will take you away from me
It was your hair
Long, flowing, gently rising above
Your shoulders as a slight breeze
Pass through, coupled with a
coy glance sending infatuating
Permanent portraits in my brain
Subliminal mind binding must be a hobby
The only thing I can reason is you are my everything
Alone, not anymore
As I gaze in this antique mirror called my soul
I can finally dust it off
Finally witnessing love up and close
Some may say you are just lovestruck
But does it strike so many times per day
My heart has been whipped into shape
More than these two golden rings
Before you there were none and after you there will be no more
She has me thinking beyond the now
Finally I am here, arrived at happiness point
And now my heart is pounding too hard against my chest
Threatening to take my life before I get to see twenty five father’s day ties
Bum-giddy-bum, bum-giddy-bum
I am resuscitated
Lord, thank you for defibrillators
Now I get to spend my second lifetime with her
Without any fussing
I promise to kiss your photo a thousand times, and then walk one thousand miles
And ride in a van filled with the Taliban
And cross state lines
With an illegal immigrant out of Arizona
Feet covered with sand
To prove there is no getting away from me
So, why ask am I the one?
You are my only
I have laid down the clues
I have relinquished everything
My desire for you is the length of coast to coast
You have unlocked everything good in me
There is no one else
This lady with character
I would not trade you for anything, not for a girl who calls for fun
Likes to run to the party scenes or even to play in the sun
Even if I was the sun or if
And all the lost treasures under the seas were offered in exchange
I would not need it because I have already found a rare priceless pearl
Categories:
resuscitated, inspirationalheart, heart,
Form:
SELAH
As the sharp rays of sunlight slowly sliced
through the tinted tarring clouds
sculpting away the web of darkness of night
I broke off a piece of time and used it
to scrape away the corrosion of agony
from the heart of my mind
and resuscitated my eroded faith.
Today I will open dusty luggage of creativity
and pull out wrinkled war worn words of creation:
etch ebony emotions of long lived life
onto refined pulp of trees; weave soul stirring songs;
mold scented petals flowering peace and love;
and feel the breath of God warming my serene sweet soul
as He feathers the nest of my pregnant poetic mind. Selah.
Categories:
resuscitated, creation, emotions, faith, imagery,
Form:
Alliteration
I saw an ogling eye whispering at me
We were at the anthill of a dried a night
Like a duck in a thunderstorm
I drawled before her wet lips
She inserted her passion into my clay, dangling my balls
I became a saint-sinner singing in the euphoria of her nipples
I am an innocent globetrotter who throttle in the winds and whims of her imaginations
Now am sucked and soaked at the sea of life
High and dry because I fell head-long to her waist
Chewing the cuds of delusions
Being at the cross purpose with my very being
A glance of her beauty is out of question
Last night, I saw grass growing under her thigh
In a twinkling, my pipe was like that of the Ethiopian Eunuch
Well, her red lips fell of the mountain
Blowing out the heat and the gush from the Nile
Confining my element with her red clay
Oceans of rumbling and tumbling escaping
Emotions mixed in motions, tongue erupting
With her powdery milk she dissected my Jupiter
I became half gone, in a half day
But her lull resuscitated me
Guess who she is?
She is Figurine.
Categories:
resuscitated, love, romance, red,
Form:
Imagism