Best Revelries Poems
Oh, splendorous, spectacular, resplendent autumn!
Boldly you dye cypress ~ flaunting ochre, cinnamon,
Yellowing sugar-maple, glazing tangerine emotions,
As scarlet winds warble in accents of majestic aspens,
Responding in purple whispers, tupelo leaves flutter
Reminiscing in revelries evoked by red-oak crimson
Lingering in blazing meadows, enchanting red maple.
Oh, autumn! fly me there, into depths of the season,
Frolicking upon gamboge hills, wrap me in your vision,
Tour with me dazzling terrains of flamboyant foliage
Composing deep pleasure in brilliant changing colors,
Hang your portrait upon cobalt cliffs of ruby horizon
Painting blushing hearts in amber hints of setting sun,
Mindful still of wistful shudders quivering barren trees
And unsung withering yearnings of falling golden leaves,
Aspiring blossoming kisses--on lips of flowering spring.
In realm of love, you are the awe of mystique~
Musings of smitten soul, passions bespeak,
When glances romantic lure enamored night
To dance of fantasies moonlit revelries ignite
Waltzing with stars scintillating opaline skies,
As smiles endearing emanate from your eyes
Beaming missives esoteric, vying to explore,
Secrets of heartbeats extolling echoes of yore,
Adulating present as tomorrow’s dream soar
To domains heavenly, croons of love implore,
Infatuated by aroma your redolent vibes impart,
Abloom in elixir of the rose inside my heart.
March 26, 2023
Poem of the day on March 27, 2023
Placed 1st: The Rose Inside My Heart Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
Regally it stands, the staunch guardian of her lonesome heart,
Reminiscing in revelries of yore, treasured memories impart,
Defying glum turbulence of now, hanging on to seasons past,
When springs-winsome banished, doldrums harsh-winters cast.
Disheartened, the gate harkens back~ O, so young its master died,
Lamenting of distressed times, when grief stilled her teary eyed;
Yet, with resolve, it squeaks its hinges, resounding a voice of pride,
Beckoning to benevolence of bliss, fate had so callously denied.
With kindred vibes it greets her, vying elation of cherished days,
Suppressing aches and rattles of its rusting, clamoring, phase;
Preferring realm of time, when he was the keeper of this place,
As dutifully now it opens wide, exuding mirth of youthful grace.
O, how fondly the gate recalls, dance of duo beneath full moon,
Humming melodies intimate, passions of doting souls croon,
Embracing celebration of life, as heartbeats enamored attune,
To rhythms emanating song of love, strumming infatuated tune.
Despite groans and whimpers, blaring aloud clattering of pain,
The gate vows to protect her, refusing ever to wither or wane,
Unwavering through thunders, rains, vicious strikes of feeble age,
Challenging its steeled bones, to gallantly defy seasons’ rage.
Out in the middle of a large farmland, I become a girl of old charm and unexpected songs again. Past the flanks where cluttered rows of hyacinths and ferns quiver, disarranged huts begin to shake as the rough wind wheezes. And on this late July, mounds of dust remind me of summers back in my grandfather’s hometown. Yet, a different vanishing overtakes me.
a season passes…
carrying all its flowers
to emerge as buds
Watching for thrushes that grow moist from dusky froth , my heels trek along deepened clay. As I lay on haystacks listening to stars chiming, the inky moon sinks its riddled face through a veil. Somehow, I feel alone...abandoned like the opera of a heart which seems to fall into a tragic ending. Yes, Grandpa isn’t around any longer, as a eulogy of tears swells.
on this barren field…
a solitary twig cracks
from one glittered tree
The nightfall drools looking for the yellow among clouds. For a while, the hazy outlines of strangers--native women and children ---disturb my old revelries when Grandpa would linger by the porch dipping tunes from his violin. Through calm intervals of laughter, we sway together; fire to air, salt to honey. Much as I need to inhabit this space, it no longer belongs to me, or to him. But twilight comes brimming with all the glistened jewels of our own world.
between two lifetimes
is a haunting melody…
like a song unsung
11/19/2015
Creative Haibuns Contest
For Charlotte Jade Puddifoot
While finding myself in season’s twilight
I see parts of life crumble amid grime of ruins,
As a declining mind wanders to balance
Gratified triumphs and numerous offenses.
That from an era’s DNA, I search my own history
Sorting out the will of earthly fate, to pinpoint
The wake of milestones... the numbness of lies.
How can I redeem the what ifs?
Accepting my fragility held by a few strands
Of cycles’ thinning yarns, my essence
Spins up down through countless revelries:
Then to gaze at the most lustrous star
Where a thousand vestiges imprint faces,
Even melodies which bear laughable chatters.
How fondly old can I really get!…
And yet, yet, as nightfall grabs
One more petal falling… there is something
glorious about ripened age--- after all.
5/09/2019
The Smile At The Foot Of The Ladder
For craig cornish
This old oak-tree smiling through my balcony
Sways and swings cheerily, a happy emissary,
Budding new vigor upon tiny greenish leaves
Adorning exuberance of idyllic new morning,
Quivering golden-beams on dawning of spring.
When the sun rises, blushing mauve feelings,
Its gentle oscillations fetch tender sensibilities
Inviting sparrows to grace the stage of robins
In spontaneous outburst of ceremonial music--
Chirping, twittering, singing for the hatchlings.
As summer of my mind churns wistful stories,
Its white blossoms waltz tender warm breeze
And leaves flutter merrily, twirling to comfort me
When thoughts bygone nudge parched vagaries
Engrossed in realm of burned-out memories.
When autumn turns green into fiery-red leaves
As ruby sundown glitters on amethyst evening
And gusty winds rustle-in endlessly, ferociously,
Whirling flying colors, floating crimson revelries;
A few remnants cling-on, loath to forsake me.
Yet, brazenly I gaze away, ignoring its appeal
When harsh winter shudders essence of its being,
Quivering, shivering bare-skinned branches;
Staying beguiled instead on top of frozen hills
Where sunset articulates ochre-tinged themes.
May 26, 2020
Poem of the day on May 28, 2020
Placed 2nd: Brian's Choice Y Contest
"i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go . . . "
ee Cummings
Tender are your ruby lips, my smile has ever kissed
Gentle is your sweet smile (adoration of my lips)
Every breath of my being, a breath of your heartbeats
Steps of my existence (mere walks in your shadows)
My dear, what you’re thinking, my mind always knows.
Cadence of your pulse (a synchronous beat of lyrics)
Love of my life, you’re sound of harmonious music
Inspiration of my verses (you’re the tune of melodies)
Rhythmic are the love-phrases serenading your praises.
Blush of blossoming flowers (in garden of my spring)
And scent of pink-roses on wings of summer-breeze
Blessed are you my angel (in my autumnal dreams)
And snowflakes of my desires in winter’s riant revelries.
In parable of my life (you’re the gift of love story)
In folklore on romance (you’re my mythical fairy)
Soul of my life you are the full moon in my heart
In view of my blazing sky, you’re forever brightest star.
November 4, 2019
Placed 1st: Strand choice contest 6 by Brian Strand
Placed 3rd: Writing Challenge, November- Some Kind of Love
Sponsor, Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode
From your hands that dipped me in cool tubs
and soft morn wakes, you were the gentle lion
taming my bohemian strains; the lamb of summer
rain catching me like a feather on your palm...
always, your balm poured moon glow of bliss,
erring only when my restless flowers needed
to bend: from where pictures stood, time bowed
shaping night talks, life’s edges, and paused faces.
Then the gas light dripped on lacquered frames,
silhouettes fading as I collected our thoughts—
marbles in my pocket—to keep me safe
from cold winds, rough dreams. And tonight,
my breath grows wild, noting the fabric of revelries
as I click past lenses : you smile; you laugh.
Just when evening’s done, you reach your arms
in slow motion to hold me close again...hands
that dipped me then, gone, without saying goodbye
from a wave of coma when I was only 24. Yet among
old photographs, we embrace through love's eyes...
Daddy, you're my special treat every day!
Tell Us About Your Dad Contest
Sponsor: Judy Konos
I brushed aside
My faraway glimpses,
The many consequences
Of trifle revelries I wasted
Grasping the snippets of night time
And all abandoned pining.
Bouquets of fondled whispers dangled
Among damp stems along Riviera beach,
Still molding flit kisses in balmy shades
That stretched on coasts of sudden farewells.
Make Love To Me In That Ancient Place Contest
Shattered dream of hushed night
Trapped in tenebrous nightmare
A world without you, a forlorn cry,
Vacant stare of lonesome life
Aching to hear your loving voice.
A chorus of sweet angelic hymn
Saddened to remain unsung,
A charming ballad of romance
Distressed to fade unheard.
An allegory of impassioned love
Woefully abandoned unwritten,
An album of cherished memories
Left unfinished and unspoken.
Muzzled voice of an empty nest--
A robin’s roost bereft of eggs,
A nightingale strumming tunes of ache--
Its lyrics trembling in latent pain.
A world without you, quite barren--
A spring shriveled in wintry freeze
Wishing for life’s ornate revelries,
Longing vibrant summer flowers
And autumn’s fiery zealous splendor.
May 29, 2020
Placed 1st: A world without you poetry contest
Sponsor: JCB Burl
Placed 1st: Strand #780 Contest by Brian Strand
My deepest fantasies are high.
Into the deep I would not go.
In them, I'd soar with birds in sky
and watch all things that are below.
All on my own, I long to fly.
My deepest fantasies are high.
I’d drift with wind where I’d belong,
and with wind's whispers, I would sigh.
No revelries of wealth have I.
I’d rather lift like a balloon.
My deepest fantasies are high.
Perhaps I’d even touch the moon!
My body once again would be
without its pain, and I’d feel spry
while moving like a dream and free.
My deepest fantasies are high.
Centaurs
~*~
In Greek Mythology monsters come in all shapes
sometimes hideous and strange . . . often representing
the dark forces in life, creatures such as Centaurs-- part
human and part horse, they are man's unruly, instinctive
nature, less awesome that demons . . . they still harassed
and haunted humans. They had the head, arms and chest
of a man but the legs and lower half of a powerful horse.
These man-horse beasts led a lustful, drunken and savage life
and were fond of riotous revelries often writhing in fierce battles
with wild brute force . . . raping, killing humans for meat.
The wise Centaur, Chiron was a unique case-- he was learned
in music, medicine, hunting and war. He was friend to Apollo,
and Zeus, loved, admired and honoured by all the great gods.
He was noted for his gentleness and kindness and wisdom. . .
tutor to Greek heroes. When he died Zeus set him in the night sky
as the starry constellation known now as Centaurus.
____________________
June 5, 2013
Poetry/Narrative/Centaurs
Copyright Protected, ID 06-483-485-05
All Rights Reserved, 2013, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Mythological Creatures or Birds
sponsor, Shadow Hamilton, Judged 06/18/2013
Ninth Place
I had to sit through it all
the conversation that was inevitable
What they did
Where they went
What they saw...
My brother and his wife
On the their expensive trip to see Roger Federer in the flesh
My husband and daughter
On a trip joining work with sightseeing
And then there was me....
I listened...
Big Ben and its imposing height
Parliament's alluring might
Pics there at Downing street
Fish and chips, a tasty treat
Outside Westminster Abbey
The Thames in its flowing glory
London Bridge, Trafalgar square
Harrods and all the goodies there
The Shard and the tennis match
Souvenirs that were a catch
Brollies forgotten here and there
Poppies bobbing everywhere
The Palace and the Rosetta stone
Red booths housing telephones
Tussaud's latest entries
Baker Street and revelries
All this, and so much more
Stories of the trip...galore
I sat and listened to it all
Saw even more pics
In my heart a twisted ache
My teaching schedule and other things
Made me stay back home
It didn't make this night easier
I thought of all I'd missed
Sure, I'd been to London years ago
But somehow...this still hurt
I'd been left behind
The night blissfully came to an end
And here am I...writing this
with London in my mind
"London, BABY!"
Not for me...
Eileen Manassian
Yup....I'm having a pity party. Didn't go to London with the fam. I was all by my lonesome! I'm happy my daughter and husband got to see the sights. We'd been there when Shereen was six or seven, but now at twenty, she could appreciate it all more. It still hurts a little that I couldn't go along. Now all the talk is done...and I can put it behind me, till the day I go to London and experience it on my OWN! ;)
Form:
The children shot rockets painting the heavens in psychedelic colours
And showers of fluorescent rainbow colours came dancing down
The air burst with thunderous rumblings of crackers and fireworks
Happiness cast its glow on joyous faces on the festival of lights
The house was spruced up and decorated with dainty tinted lamps
The curtain rods brightened our living room with tiny tinkling bulbs
A crystal bowl of floating scented candles, and tuberoses in vases
Lent an air of jubilance and romance to the home with the fluttering curtains
With drinks in hand the family reunion turned into a tipsy affair with many on a high
Our talking parrot was let out cage to stretch out his wings to enjoy its rare freedom
To make his presence felt he hopped around the dining table pecking into plates
And taking a sip from each of the family members clinking glasses, much to our delight
Lucy, our pomeranian, was taking turns in hiding under chairs when crackers burst
The revelries and fireworks had died out by the time everyone had retired to bed
Clearing the table of assorted bottles, I was shocked to see the parrot dead drunk
Hanging upside down the curtain rod crying, 'Lucy! Lucy!' to his friend in his cage!
June 3, 2016
For Julia Ward
* Diwali, an Indian festival, is celebrated with a lot of fireworks. It is called The Festival Of Lights
I bring you a live commentary match between Sin and Grace
Sin are inches away to the box
Lust shots, Self-Control reacts well and blocks
Longsuffering has been fouled at the 18-yard
Pride has been booked, he gets a yellow card
Envy probing for a goal, last week he scored a brace
Sin camping on the edge of Grace
A change for Sin, Lust out for fornication
Game resumes, an untimely clearance by abortion
A lengthy spell of Sin possession
They are playing with so much aggression
Pressure still mounting on Grace
Pride dribbles past a marker and finds space
Anger is booked for pulling Gentleness
A shot! And Truth denies Falseness
And another glorious chanced missed
Envy out for murder on the final substitution list
The minute is ticking away and Grace are standing firm
A long drive by Revelries, a great save by Peace! What a gem!
A handball by goodness at the halfway line
But ref. Mercy says No! She waves play on! Mine! Oh mine!!
Self-Control goes for shoulder-to-shoulder with Anger
And he wins the battle of defender
Oh! Outbursts of wrath as he fires over the bar
Wrath burst forward again and finds murder afar
But Self-Control masterminded that move
What a game he has had! He’s surely improved
Four minutes to stoppage time, a long searching ball to Joy
He shots! And is a goal! Amazing goal!! Oh boy!!!
Sin were exposed, and Joy curled the ball pass Sorrow
Am flabbergasted! For Sin, the road to the final looks narrow
Grace are just a seconds away to the World Crown Final
And it’s all over here! Grace are in the World Crown Final!
An astonishing game! An undeserved victory!
Grace wins by a lone goal and Grace makes history!
What a graceful display from the visitors!
As they vanquished the inquisitors!
What should we say? Should we wallow in sin, so that God's Grace will overflow?
God’s [mercy] forbid! If we are dead to sin and alive in Christ, how can we go on sinning? [Romans 6:1-2: The Poet Preacher’s Version]