Best Reveled Poems
Oh my dearest love, how longingly I recall
Amorous wink of joy, teasing zealous eyes
When you held my hand on journey of life
And never let go despite the arduous climb.
Happily you greeted what justly we toiled for,
In view of gratitude plentiful it always was.
Staying true to hallmark of your own resolve
You didn't falter when fate made bad calls.
Exuberantly you reveled in garden of roses
In purple orchids and fragrance of Jasmine
Beneath cosmic infinity wooing your fantasy,
As resolutely you held on to truth of reality.
We traveled far eying cultural renaissance
In Sistine Chapel and the Statue of David
As museums found you mesmerized by art
And paintings in Uffizi held you spellbound.
In your honor, I'll memorialize solemn oath
Lovingly etched in the temple of our hearts
Saying in your voice, there are no goodbyes
When love shall endure till the end of time.
December 14, 2018
Placed first in last letter to my beloved contest by Silent One
Placed 3rd: Strand choice S contest by Brian Strand
From precipice of memories, flashbacks nostalgic billow,
Thinking of you as I ruminate, adoring the views below,
Where waves oceanic dance, leaping on windy tempos,
Propagating ambitions of tides, vying pristine sea shore;
Rippling my thoughts, undulating with emotions of yore,
Mesmerized in recollections lovingly brought to fore,
Allured by longings unforgettable, yearning for more,
Of your covert smile, enamored in friendship and love.
Admiring beauty serene, negotiating crests and troughs,
Immersing in nature’s awe, despite hurricanes and storms,
Sailing on vigor of vitality, rowing with elation and joy,
We built on hope and pride, rising and falling with tides;
Adulating on apex of highs, descrying the lows of sighs,
Turning pages of life, enchanting our hearts and minds,
We watched seasons decaying, regenerating over time,
Recognizing, in failures we sow, seeds of success in life.
Though dreams of romance became nightmares of desires,
We retain treasured albums, forever moments inspired,
Of sacred truths unveiled, destinations exotic we sailed,
Of dreams magical reveled, of themes our passions made;
Hypnotizing me still, in glance of your glamorous smile,
As I rejoice in tenor of then, remorseful of final goodbyes,
Cherishing melodious sounds, echoing from arc of bygones,
Gleaming our separate horizons, hosting asunder dawns.
My great, great Aunt had a lovely old home,
with many a wonderful story,
hidden within its walls.
A Victorian, architectural designers dream;
vaulted ceilings, full of ghosts;
where spirit voices sang of its splendor.
What I remember most, were the sparkly door knobs;
prisms reflecting the sunlight;
beautiful rainbow colors,
adorning her sitting room walls.
The animated colors of her crystalline chandelier
wove dancing shadows into the fabric.
As a small child, I reveled in that light-play;
how I loved her magical home.
Among a stand of pines I lived my life,
blissful in the ignorance of my own fate.
Tall and proud, my fellow trees and I
stood along a ridge that overlooked a lake -
its crystal surface mirroring our beauty.
Underneath big sky
and seeming to lean against a mountain,
we reveled in the gifts of our mother nature.
Oftentimes we felt the breath of breezes at our backs
and cooling downpours in the summer heat.
We saw and heard the scampering of squirrels and rabbits;
We watched as deer and other woodland creatures
stopped to drink at the clear lake or came to visit us.
Birds of many sorts serenaded us both day and night;
Crickets, bees and other insects came to see us too.
Seasons came and went.
Still young, I kept growing on the south fringe of my stand.
This winter as new snow glistened on the ground,
there came intruders to our happy spot.
Wielding axes, two men chopped me down.
Now I stand alone, uprooted and separated from my stand.
No birds adorn my limbs.
Instead I’m wearing garlands of garish gold
and big red bulbs are hanging from my arms.
No moon or stars of night shine above me,
but a silver plastic star is tacked on top my head.
I’m suffocated by this too-warm room
with blinking lights everywhere around me
And myriads of gifts brightly wrapped
piled high and pressed against my trunk.
No longer one of many, I am one alone
And the lovely stand of which I was but one small part
has been replaced by an old and rusty stand for Christmas trees,
a stand that now contains me,
for I no longer stand as one part of a whole.
Rootless and wondering what will become of me. . .
I pine.
Written 9/15/12 for Debbie Guzzi's "Stand" Poetry Contest
POW confined in a cage
Through Viet Cong jungles bullets raged
No sweat from his pores in unrelenting sun
Dehydration, famine, yet his needs were none
A tepid river so foul with blood’s scent
But the outcome of torture was not as meant
He tasted cool ice as his spirit soared
Freedom came fast once the war was ignored
Hovering o’er killing fields his soul’s eyes
Saw not the wounded, heard not their cries
Though his weak body lay crumpled below
Pain free he reveled on clouds, heaven’s snow
Through astral projection he’d been set free
Each day he survived, taking this journey
When rescued at last many months gone by
The US militia did not know why
GI Joe felt no hate, seemed so serene
And not one of his rescuers could glean
Why this soldier survived, what kept him sane
For they’d not escaped inside this man’s brain
The awareness he’d achieved spared his life
So he could return to his son and wife
Who’d prayed everyday that he would come home
Only to say they’d never been alone
Their spirits communed on another plane
And life as they’d known it would never be the same
*Entry for Caties Out-of-Body Experience Contest.
Reveled in ancient times, words escape from the crevices of nature
Through soils that many have tread
The living and the dead
Eat everything and take a great big look
Something is waiting for you—someone is there for you
The history of mankind will not tell you otherwise
The vines of truth and peace surround your being
You are something new and true
And the words are willingly fleeing from my grasp
Life is a spinning top—it spins as long as you keep it going
Manmade trinkets are concepts of lives untold
Objects hold energy that are more powerful than mere words
The feeling behind the whole of it all is all too satisfying
Listen to the breeze
It whispers riddles that lift the spirits of the deep
I can hear it calling
Can you?
Humanity has closed its breadth of hearing
But they can always reopen!
Consume me—let the fires of your passion envelope me
I want to know everything I can before I leave this world behind
I want the living and the dead to be satisfied in luxuries
Luxuries of love, appetite, desire and cool water fire
There is a secret rhythmic chord in every brain
You must accept yourself
You must accept your surroundings
Let them curl all around you—let your heart turn from serpentine to
Clear fluid
Consume the waters
Consume me
Before the worms in the soil soak in what is rightfully yours
The earth will be your companion
Engorge what you may . . . but respect
Tree branches bowed under the weight of the snow,
like penitents kneeling, as Christmas shoppers reveled
in the joy of the season. I left the house and struggled
through the snow-clogged streets to meet a man
I hadn't seen in years. He was the model of discretion,
a confidant. I could always count on his fidelity and trust.
I shivered, pulled the scarf more tightly round my neck,
and pushed my way through the milling crowds to await
his arrival. And there he was. The old familiar shambling gait,
the oft-worn brown fedora perched upon his head,
and suddenly I felt better.
I chose a dimly lighted tavern. We ordered drinks and dinner;
linguini and shrimp, a dish for which we shared a common relish.
Our conversation was tentative at first, until the effects
of the alcohol loosened our tongues, and we talked of Oxford,
days full of happy memories.
But later, as the evening wore on and the tavern's customers
left with errands of their own, we were left alone.
Silence descended. Thoughts of earlier in the day came crashing
down upon me. He sensed something was wrong, as he always did.
"She left me," I blurted out, sobbing uncontrollably.
He said nothing, and gently squeezed my hand.
I think of you when fall is in the air,
remembering that warm September night
I reveled in your long and tender stare.
Those kisses! Why can’t anything compare
to then? Now even stars seem not as bright!
I think of you when Fall is in the air -
remembering that warm September night.
For the "I Think Of You" Poetry Contest of gautami phookan
A silky moonlight the water walking
As lovers entwined their lives while talking.
Spring softly warm, blossoms upon the air,
Time's gentle memory when she was there.
Stars bright after sunlight reveled in youth
Or might we more have considered the truth
Of philosophy and kisses so bare
That perhaps we gave too much to the air.
To summer we could not forever cling,
Must autumn mean loss, must it perforce bring
A harsh threat of change, hint of winter stark,
As a cold, still gun may glint in the dark.
All energy we find within a thought
Of what Fate bought, of what we might have wrought.
For the love of Lippy I've done it all...
And I would do it all again
For my heart, for my joy, for my friend
Oh what a world you got me into!
Some days so long and hard, I thought I'd never make it through
Except for knowing that at the end of the day, I could spend some time with you
We weathered the disasters and wrong choices... mostly mine
But we've reveled in our successes, in our friendship and in our time
So many places, so many changes, what a life we've shared
You've done what I've asked, you've mastered your tasks
And for you I will always be there... as you have been there for me
When my mind is blood red and my heart is stone gray
You stand before me pure white
And your mane dries my tears and your coat soaks in my sorrows
And your eyes always reveal "The Light"
Given to each other by one greater than us who knew what we both would need
Never a truer companionship than with you my faithful steed!
From long lazy rides in lush green fields on warm bright summer days
To tranquil wooded trails and dusty old roads, you've carried me all the way
You saved my heart, you saved my mind, you saved me from it all
And I owe you my life, I owe you the world for answering my call
For you I do it all...
Always in my heart I know you'll be, no matter what time brings
For it cannot separate two spirits joined
Or the memories that make their hearts sing
Together we answered the call
For you my wonderful friend... I did it all
-Alias Pluto Lela
Lipizzan registry #XL007
2-12-81 to 2-9-13 -served as therapeutic riding horse
The day that followed . . .
Blossomed blue, bright . . . beautiful
Clouds towering into the heavens
Wheeling white, wonderful . . . wordless
The clouds danced in the expanse
Rolling on a sea of silence
Sailing soft, supple . . . serene
Saw nothing
Cared nothing
Floated away
Alone . . . . . blind . . . . . marvelous
mute!
The trees . . .
The trees reveled in their own wild
E m o t I o n s
Old Man Walnut – a true heart-wood
Big boned brooded black
Dark, dangerous, defiant
Lady oak took red at the edges
A deep striking flame-red
Her heart a luscious lively living green
A gentlewoman of a long experience
Patient, Peaceful, persistent and powerful
Elms burst yellow – effulgent
Cried for attention
Demanded attention
Wind whistled wantonly through her leaves
Tall, tenacious, testy, temerarious
Some of the maples slurred
A bright primary red
Like harlots laughing, listening, languishing
Showed interest but cared for nothing
The Sweetgums stood aloof
Star-shaped leaves
Like bruises oozing deep purple
At first draft
S N
T A
O K
O E
D D
Abused . . . abandoned . . .
alone
Crape Myrtles cluster together
Gossiping busy-bodies
Bursting orange with outrageous desire
Watching, wanting, waiting, wanton
Modest were the Aspens
Slender and graceful
Giggling trees
But where they were
They were so many
They could afford to be
Modest, monomorphic, musical, memorable
The Pines and firs
Raising forth green among the colors
Unchanging
Unwilling to change
Criticizing by their contrast
every other change
The Woods
The woods
The chaotic woods
The heartless forest
And the trees . . .
. . . . .The boughs, leafs, limbs, roots
That whole glorious community
Simply went about its
Natural business
Another day in creation.
Live and Love Generously
The young men sat, planted under the overhang
like the pansies and geraniums that surrounded them in boxes,
as the rain pelted the terra-cotta terrace.
The mountain air was sharp with the taste of lightening.
Having bid farewell to the arched shard of a rainbow across the valley,
they sat tensely watching the celestial bombardment of Katmandu.
The lightening stoked the day’s heat,
thickening the early evening sky like the yogurt they’d eaten for lunch.
A home-made rice wine poured freely over their tongues
from an innocent looking water bottle.
Their eyes turned garnet with the harshness of it.
The bottle sat with its tattered label, upon the arm of the white chair.
The wine within tasted faintly of the gasoline,
yet, they reveled in it, and the freedom from deep seeded societal traits,
it freed them from.
Overhead, the sky was draped in a bridal veil of stars;
as I emerged from the room to sit beside them.
It was the Eve of a brand new year,
so I’d gone out on my porch to say goodbye
to the prior year, having heard a blue moon should appear.
As I was looking all around me up into the sky,
no sign of a moon at all was I to spy!
Farther out from my front porch, I looked up at each slope
of mountains to the east, and it seemed as though
my spirit was now filling with new hope,
for the mountains shone so brightly, graced by day’s new snow
as Christmas lights still blinked in all the valley below.
All future things to come, which I had yet to rue,
were, in that one moment, completely out of sight.
And though I never saw a moon of blue
in the snowy brightness of that moonless night,
I reveled in the beauty of such peaceful white!
The Unmasking ~
A Poem by Debbie_Philly
THE UNMASKING
Lives laced with indiscretions the dance has begun.
Liars take the lead my muse sings the song.
Deception pierces the psyche wavering on the
edge of insanity.
The muse has been unmasked reveled is his
morbid soul. Contents purged of it’s deceitfulness.
Lost love’s obscure, soul mate obsolete in this
malignant web of duplicity.
Cruel heartless muse , why do you ridicule
your beloved? Fixation on unattainable acceptance
Chasing contaminated dreams that render you
inadequate of ever knowing truth.
Truth in life, love and real undying loyalty.
Incapable of true intimacy , bewitched is your
brain by meddlesome hags.
Your thirst will be unquenchable all your days
and lonely apathetic nights.
My muse has been unmasked, seen for what he
really is. I wish him well on his journey for love.
My heartbroken soul wonders aimlessly through
this realm. Numb, disillusioned concealed in a shell
TRUST may never enter my world again.
By: Deborah Kelly
© 2009 Debbie_Philly
I was a runner
fleeing from homespun horrors that
wrapped around my delicacy like a tourniquet
Only a child attempting to bestir
the warrior dormant within;
having no idea the enthrallment
she reveled in,
I learned to accost my demons
Nigh, even at the wide-eyed age of eight,
scarred
shattered
broken
I found, in a hand-crafted cardboard crate,
my only chance at freedom
Every Saturday I'd sneak away
to my makeshift universe
that gave life to dreams unspoken --
I would crouch and crawl
through thorn-encrusted branches
enclosed in a thicket,
sunbeams cutting into the tangles
alighting my face, piercing my eyes
The oceans breath
cascaded over the brush,
and everything, suppressed,
would fall into a hush
until I breached the winding path
Amongst the jungle of weeds/rose garlanded structures,
high above the jagged rocks
and wide open mouth of the watery abyss,
my hideaway centered --
flimsy cardboard walls,
brightly painted bold brazen symbols protecting all who entered,
tightly sealed with an invisible lock
opening only when voices of forgotten children fluttered through the air
I'd stand silent beneath the incandescent sky,
for just a moment,
breathing deep the silken salty breeze
and thrust my arms out to the sides
like the seagulls hovering over the loud, fathomless cavern of the sea,
Losing myself in the mist