Best Retracts Poems
A black cloud dangles
Effortlessly forms
A haunting image
Showers travel east
Daisy hides her face.
A Robin sings
A melody
The sun appears
Once more she smiles.
Grass uncoils
Raindrops dry
Web retracts.
Sunset
Moon beam.
Stars.
© Harry J Horsman 2022
A sky of angry screeching,
demanding;
like a raptor in the wind.
Doesn't have the impact
that simple warbling brings.
With fear of cruel words spoken,
love retracts,
like claws on birds of prey;
and all I loved about you
has now flown far away.
Predatory words can rip,
into beings
lovelorn at their peak.
Not accomplishing anything but
the sharpening of the beak.
The magic gem of curly hair,
Procures itself in sodden downpour.
Frizz retracts and curls define,
Revitalised by heaven's moisture.
No brolly required.
No wind-swept locks.
A long-awaited makeover,
Of the most natural kind.
28/04/2019
A problem to most men and A dynamic explosion to anything I paint orange
The missing link is always overlooked, of course I'm Intellegent enough to say it loud, I never fear the unknown and the way I started here was unexpected especially to the purple power I be coming In A Cherry Terror . AS I screamed them words I woke up and IT Echos and it's sick faces
My enemies make they cant believe Im bold they question my sanity but in truth I sanitize in troops of men i am the line with a hook on it, Not with a rifle and scope no! with a ****in tomahawk I kill the hit sticks and i feel the Assasins. A team so strong they laugh in the face of danger, they master the statosphere she creeps as mr backup I cant believe she paints a masterpiece and the enemy retracts in fear, As the Power is the utmost respected, not one man with sense would toy with it, i just like to strengthen things and make them strong, no easy target here, no abuse of power, respect the blue i paint myself in, we're all in agreement i think, i love the feeling of course its an enviroment where understanding is appreciated, for The Law is Love untill you seek her life, I dont play Assassin games, Im a Alpha Dog unilke you demosicated Officer at Parole, I be risking my life for this girl i saw, she be several delights in my heart as we connected She sees exceptionally well cuz i make it very clear
blue eyes
tells lies
fact check?
train wreck
Nazi
Barbie
detracts
retracts
distorts
reports
bombshell
Trump's belle
Land masses in freeze
mans conditional now waned
nature retracts, whilst
a polar bear roams a city
incomprehensible times
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-13.php
Your disconsolate hollow eyes continue to stare straight through me
Your mind has transformed loved ones into strangers
You see only a haze of people coming and going
Words whispered affect you not
Nothing spoken can affect the puzzle left unsolved in your mind
The missing pieces are designed to shut people out
And although I fail each day to recover the absent pieces
I Persist.
Each day your once colourful portrait grows dark with age and sorrow
Failed attempts to add a dash of yellow
Yet still I stay here waiting for the brief minute or so when you'll notice I’m here.
You'll smile innocently and ask me when I arrived.
I'll play along as I hold your hand and lie to protect you; 'I just got here Mom'
For a minute your colourful portrait peeks at me from its cobwebbed corner
But happiness is futile
You leave no sooner than you arrive
In my hand yours suddenly grows limp
Your smile retracts
Your eyes grow hollow once more
And you no longer know who I am
Contemplations of leaving you alone cloud my psyche
My tattered soul is constantly frayed by the devastation caused by your lassitude.
Turning my back on you I only ever make it to the door; never once have I opened it
My fingers grasp the cold brass though I cannot turn the knob
Tears blur my vision and I return to my chair beside your bed
Waiting faithfully for the brief minute in which you return,
Knowing I’d rather have just a minute with you, than no time at all.
THE BOY KING
Oh youthful monarch of Egypt, so young to die and yet live again.
In the nether world a Pharaoh's golden death mask is lain upon
A boy king.
In silences crypt a stilled figure lies in stacious frozen freeze.
Until Ra's first rays kiss the dawn and they embrace in passions
Fiery flame.
Behold a rebirth an emergence from death's chilling shroud.
In the valley of the dead his caucus’s soul walks amongst
His ancestral ancestors.
Lost deities whom balance the hearts of men
Against the feather of truth
Speak his name with honor's reverence.
Legacy's inheritance a throne built in the shadow,
Of hierarchy’s indignation yields,
To restorations royal seal barring his title of rebirth
Tutankhamen.
The great sphinx retracts it's sharpened claws,
As this small emperor’s spirit bows with nobility’s,
Humblest of respectfulness at his marble feet.
Without fears emotions he thus stands all alone,
Before this stone giant of idles sacred worship,
At his touch this littlest of divine gods,
Turns a stone beast into flesh.
And beneath the night's blanket of stars,
He is welcomed
Into the warmth of the lions main.
A living creature cradling this child of light,
Slowly fallen into dreams eternal sleep once more.
In the halls of Karnack a peaceful lullaby plays,
Upon invisible instruments, in a gentle soothing.
Rhythmic tones the music plays.
As a woman's voice sings of a beautiful desert spring,
That turns into the Nile's fertile waters,
Feeding it's eternal life.
And thus the boy king sleeps wrapped in slumbers,
Golden fleece, listening to the holy Melody,
Which is ancient Egypt.
Finally at peace within the kingdom of thieves,
A Pharaoh of the golden realm.
Hush now beware do not wake him,
Or his curse may claim another victim.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
"A Hornswoggling Charmer"
Sweet chet by day, cheats by night, He creeps,
he heats, he strays. My greet, fought in spite cause.
He’s up the dense, watching his prey- a nerd.
Poor thing, better run quick, ‘cause watch, he’ll bounce!
He’ll neatly beg for puss, but don’t be drooled.
‘Cause one minute he’ll stir and dial, then tap!
He’ll quit and kiss - and oh - surprise! A spouse.
He’s wedd. A gift. Retracts his flaws. Wow!
Figure of love bait between my legs, looks up
at me and spurs. The pound pulls my heartstrings.
His big screw eyes like sinner dates - so cute.
Cunning he is, he knows I can’t resist.
Curling up tight, we sleep entwined as one.
Despite his quirks, I would not change a flaw
of him. Sneaky Sammie: my throw-tight lean.
Our future he impacts
Social issues he just stacks
He gives educators the axe
Keeps piling the load on our backs
His stance on illegal immigrants lacks
He took a loose stance on tax
Mud slung, he seldom retracts
From his vantage point he acts
Lives in a mansion while we live in shacks
Lots of promises, few facts
O sweet touches, tell me low:
"How does your skin age so slow?"
Wanting fingers trail hello, how can those eyes just watch me so?
Like children running along my back, I feel your hand ask for a snack.
Letting it follow my inner thigh, my eyes glare to yours:
"You won't survive..."
A simple smile that whispers more, a hand retracts to my face's shore.
Bubbling on top of my nose and lips, other fingers dance upon my hips;
shallow grasping starts to pour; O this man I shall adore!
Hard kisses turn to small bites
Playful digits take off sites
Eyes stay open...no missing right?
For we can kindle, this Valentine's night.
The Question, Translation of Carlos Bousono’s poem : La Cuestion
« …Oh ! God, Oh ! Centre »*
for Vicente Puchol
(* Note by the editor, Alejandro D. Amusco, attesting that the above quotation was not included in Bousono’s Antologia poética, 1976, and on the « mysterious Centre » on which the poem is a cogitation. T. Wignesan)
Yes, we know it : would you like to find the secret precinct,
the invulnerable enclosed sanctum,
to enter through any hole into the incredible spectacle,
to penetrate the labyrinth and find the powerful Centre.
As if a thief could rob the totality of light
to find, as I say, the powerful Centre, the absolute Centre,
the immobile Centre of the tempest which moves by itself,
a Centre where nothing is found to budge,
where everything is absorbed into itself, like love, containing
itself in itself,
not on its periphery, but fully wrapped in its contents,
overflowing like the apparition of a card in the suit of Spanish cards,
like an enormous cup of manifestation which augments,
like a wave which continues to mount higher and higher and beyond
its highest limits,
farther yet than possibility’s horizons ;
and keeps growing afterwards, going on for days, and the spectacle of its extermination – the hideous knowledge and the joy of recognising its loss ;
and which continues growing for an immemorial duration in the
direction of its own centre : terrible,
like a persistent cascade pouring down its interior, a flooding within
the experience of feeling well in one’s being,
an existential waterfall without end which retracts - having stopped
flowing – inwards into its own Centre.
Ai ! The crucial question is therefore to enter the labyrinth,
The big question comes down to making the move.
Be warned that it is only an act of penetration,
a simple act of transfer ; it would suffice to make a gesture with an
idea that brings joy,
perchance it might suffice just to find water in the barn
or a path in the woods, or in the woods
to fall upon an exit
through the hole (where we came in), to proffer with the key to the
enigma
the solution of the charade,
and discover the other side of the abysm, the reversal of the plot,
before the roof deteriorates
under probing fingers…
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
FAREWELL MY LOVE!
Farewell my love, i must return home, a loner
The moon wanes and below, descends the horizon
A galaxy crowns the looming of a gloomy sky
At the backdrop remains glint of our yesterdreams.
Farewell my love, 'tis the journey's end of loving tend
For the western gleam retracts to a dying day
All things rest, my heart rest forlorn with them
But behind the shadows is the whiff of a new morn.
Farewell my love, this, could thy last embrace be
With the shrivels of the flowery range at sunset
Faded with the last embers of genuity after gloamtide?
And in the chill dark falls the dew of tomorrow's bloom.
Farewell my love, with the rising glow and fading glint
The heart that never stays, that revolves with the earth
Like swallows depart after winter for summer plane
Where next would be the flight when autumn sets yonder?
SERVITUDE TO PRIDE
See,
Our love that once
Like an inferno burnt,
Now, like an ember smolders,
And beyond kindle by pride has become.
Our psyches by pride wreathed, in loneliness
Our hearts writhe and our mirth into myth retracts.
Without,
A serene heart we feign.
But within, our hearts by dusk of pride
Blinded, for each other grope and to the
Melody of the dirge of our fissured
Hearts pride spitefully dance.
For
A faded memory of you
All night i carouse yet for
Your caress I yearn.
Photographs of you and i, my roses
To you, as a sedative into the mire you threw.
But, how come out of your heart you could
Not throw me?
The
Trees of pride, it is palpable,
A fertile soil in our psyches had found,
And under the arbor of their leafy boughs,
Etiolated our hearts berth and for
Sunshine seek.
That's just what perfection does -
As hopeful torrid night spills in through stargazing windows
Illuminating shadowy grays drawn by God's hand in charcoal
on taunt, sepia skin. She simply retracts from you, from the floor,
scoffing at all those gaudy tones - the colorful imperfect other.
Despite Aristotelian pleas to logic, propriety
and function, she teases us seductively
dancing motionless in impossible air.
Crouching half naked, poised on Platonic tippy-toes
with perfect condescending balance as if we'd all been naughty girls and boys,
as if a chair were never meant for sitting,
and gravity makes her an exception.