Best Rhythmically Poems
Sometimes when I find myself adrift
I transform into a dancing butterfly
Escaping with imaginations and wanders off into Wonderland
It's a world only I can glimpse and explore the hidden emotions of my being
I am the dancing Butterfly
I don't need the world's recognition
I just wanna be me... the dancing Butterfly
Light on my wings I fly
Soaring free
Fragile to the strong wind
Yet fluttering high
Gliding with ease of my own time
When I'm ready
With passion and gladness my ink will flow rhythmically onto this page
Unveiling the closed curtain so I may fly
freely in the real world
Rather than displaying a dramatic show
I am the dancing Butterfly
I don't need the world's recognition
I just wanna be me... the dancing Butterfly
Light on my wings I fly
Soaring free
Fragile to the strong wind
Yet fluttering high
Gliding with ease of my own time
I am the dancing Butterfly
Smile
Akkina Rosario Downing
11-8-17
O season of amber tulips, of yellow daffodils,
Of grinning verdant prairies, of cheery hills,
Of giggling, burbling streams rushing to seas,
Of fragrant breeze rustling passions of trees;
How scintillating is the glance of your smile,
O grandeur of beauty, how jovial is your style!
O vibrance of growth, of avid nascent moods,
Emerging anew boasting budding attitudes,
Stimulating twigs of maple, oak, sycamore,
Preening aura of leaves now brought to fore;
How rhythmically you sway melodies of spring
Attuning to love themes, fervid robins sing.
O inspiring season, how you thrill meadow,
Reviving glee, from demise of wintry throe
As vibes of romance in mating songs tiptoe
Echoing birds’ frolic, rekindling barren knoll,
Nesting in realms memories of yore cajole,
Where chirps of hatchlings your glory extol.
O season colorful, abloom in showy flowers,
How gaily you tap-dance with April showers
Buoying ardent dreams of bees, butterflies,
Luring spirits romantic of daydreaming eyes
Fixated mirthfully on picturesque springtime
Lauding in awe of your magnificence sublime.
February 25, 2023
Placed 2nd: In Bloom Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
An old house I am led to -it is the symbol of
Memories in cobwebs - like those of old lost love.
A storehouse for so many things buried in my mind.
I open up its creaking door to see what I might find.
Lovely notes come waaftng down its stairs to me.
My poor heart tears to hear that poignant melody.
It brings to me the image of one afternoon
When I walked with someone in summer by the dune.
I listen to the tickling of the ivory
Picturing two people splashing each other by the sea.
The music now is drifting to me soft and low.
I see the setting sun. We’re bathed in crimson glow.
Beautifully and slowly the notes keep being played.
In the arms of my old love rhythmically I’m swayed.
The keys of the piano now are pounding fast.
In the moonlight he and I are making love at last.
Finally the keys are played as if they were caressed.
And a bitter sweetness swells within my breast.
Slowly creeping up the stairs I go to learn the truth.
Who has played this long-time buried memory of youth?
On the old piano’s bench, I see an imprint lies,
And I think I can hear my phantom lover’s sighs.
Sweet ghost valentine, will you please return
And play again that melody of love for which I yearn?
For the Sweet Valentine Poetry Contest of Nayda Ivette Negron
Last night I lay in the darkness of my room
like i always do
Me, a dim lamplight and thoughts of you
my only companions
Everything was still
Till I could listen to first pit pattering of raindrops
Upon my. Windowsill
Falling, falling gently
down my amber rose leaves garden.
Falling gently ,wildly, gushing , drumming,
Like your heart beat on those scented nights
in the hallway by the fireplace, face to face
I wondered if water shadows were there too
In a distant land, in another path and in a different time
I wondered if you think of me too,over a cup of tea
whilst reading your newspaper,
or just sitting in your porch..I wondered..
Last night I sat, staring off into space.
My newspaper not opened.
My lemon tea gone cold.
Everything so still,
until the rain started to fall,
dripping slowly, rhythmically, then faster, faster,
harder, harder, quicker, quicker
splattering onto the broken concrete sidewalk
pounding like the beat of my heart
when we cuddled under the moonlit sky.
I wondered do you ever think of me
does the moon bring back memories
do you lie awake at night in your room
dreaming of me....I wondered..
In my distal conception you shine like a lucent star
whose touch fondles the fret and strings of my guitar.
An image worth painting in oils with my sable brush,
your voice like the recherche love song of a thrush.
You are the faint break of day in dawn's somber skies.
A sanctum of refuge in times of angst and weeping eyes.
My ardent lover, seducing me with each lustful thought.
You are life's pulse beating rhythmically within my heart.
If I am blinded tomorrow, visions of you I shall not lack.
And if I were entrapped in a world of boundless black,
wavering shadows would not fill my heart with fright,
for with you at my side, I would not have need of sight.
No demands would I make, but humbly I would beseech
you to please make me aware that you're within my reach.
You are the assuasive waves that quell my restless soul
and I, a brigantine moored in the shallows of your shoal.
November 12, 2022
2022 Marathon Mile 20 Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
Gleefully you and I smile from a scenic window on life
Enchanted by nightfall befriending quixotic autumn sky
Embossing crimson brushstrokes on vermilion arc
Akin to a painting in classical style of renaissance art
Parading in front of our eyes on a thrilling train ride,
When orange glow of sinking sunset playfully smiles back,
As we savor shrimp-creole with red wine in the dining car
And train-tracks beneath us rhythmically clickety-clack
Negotiating the panoramic curves befitting forested lands
Announcing the mighty reach of whistling train-horn,
When the half-moon above peeks through twinkling stars.
Balancing gingerly footsteps we jaunt back to our roomette
Settling in on narrow bunk beds in a tiny modest space
Marveling the red, brown, golden foliage trickling outside
Falling on multi-color motif carpeting the misty grounds,
As engine screeches intermittently, braking, slowing down,
Screaming loud whistle-calls, approaching station stops.
We endeavor to sleep until dreams invoke beauteous dawn
Awakening to thick white clouds of dense morning fog
Slowly giving way to glorious sun-rays piercing the forest,
Where cheerful robins dance upon a long leafless branch
Welcoming marigold sunrise on the horizon’s blue path
As you and I reminisce in the whispering night of romance.
October 24, 2019
HM: Strand special by Brian Strand
From Atlanta to Washington DC on an overnight train
Malevolent imploded uncontrollably,
twisting wildly maniacal posies
amid diabolically toasted brainstem,
angst uncompromisingly yanked tresses
purging stinging speech patterned rhymes
amuck iniquitous poetic verses hung
upside down to tormentingly dry,
facing other inimically knotted borders of
antagonistic galleries in deranged snapshots
razing warped poetical tapestries,
tripping on tunes of whiskey rushes' savoy truffles
and greenish tangerines whilst Led Zeppelin's
Sick Again danced upon reflective ceiling tiles,
time written sideways 'round alleged autonomy
hidden furthermost immune masked mirror images,
debauching Greek braille calligraphy's vindication
on walls of graffito scripted physicality
calling out 'tween hysterical compulsions,
naught one heeded the sounds of synapses
about ill-fated half moon's arresting arc,
synthetic doomsday's clocks aptly chimed
quarter to analytical cuckoo's nest repudiation,
still awaiting on serendipity to surrender
furthermost rabbit hole's curiouser rants,
relinquishing unwell-languaged compilations' sabotage - -
circumventing rhythmically subversive escaped detonation
Take me again…
Take me… for I am nothing without you
Tease my desires with your fingers a’ wander
Upon quivering flesh, shivering needs cry
All of this is yours, deeply offered, rhythmically played
Bite me… little marks to revisit at dawn
My chest, my thighs, my soul pleads
Drinking of this passion, thirsting for more
Peering up at you, wings flutter within my heart
Use me… as I lay here, hands lifting
Slow circles encompass warm breaths
Moaning eclipses bring edged light from outer visions
Cupped of fevered frenzy and firm decisions
Ride me… I am your stallion, unsaddled, unbridled
Grip my mane, tear at my shoulders, guide me to that valley
Where whispering willows sway in mahogany waves
Finding the depths of your heightened encampment
Scream me… my name on your lips excites
When the comet appears and streaks the sky
Flashing sparks meld between us shimmering, erupting
in a cosmic flow, lava escapes in hot pulsating streams
Take me again… for I am nothing without you
Good night Soupers
Robins move quickly across the fresh spring grass
gathering foliage for a newly woven nest
Church bells can be heard chiming
rhythmically out in the distant west
Vibrant tulips, lily's and orchids
are exploding in the garden
arousing sensuous scents of jasmine and rose
as a gentle breeze tickles my nose
The sun sprinkles sunshine off the glistening dew
bringing me a smile and thoughts of you
Your warm and loving heart
like the perfect cloudless day
Your sweet and tender touch
taking all my breath away
I sit here enjoying this glorious sight
daydreaming of sharing with you my night
An old house I am led to -it is the symbol of
memories in cobwebs - like those of old lost love.
A storehouse for so many things buried in my mind.
I open up its creaking door to see what I might find.
Lovely notes come waaftng down the stairs to me.
My poor heart tears to hear that poignant melody.
It brings to me the image of one afternoon
when I walked with someone in summer by the dune.
I listen to the tickling of the ivory,
picturing two people splashing each other by the sea.
The music now is drifting to me soft and low.
I see the setting sun. We’re bathed in crimson glow.
Beautifully and slowly the notes keep being played.
In the arms of my old love rhythmically I’m swayed.
The keys of the piano now are pounding fast.
In the moonlight he and I are making love at last.
Finally the keys are played as if they were caressed,
and a bitter sweetness swells within my breast.
Slowly creeping up the stairs I go to learn the truth.
Who has played this long-time buried memory of youth?
On the old piano’s bench, I see an imprint lies,
and I think I can hear my phantom lover’s sighs.
Sweet ghost valentine, will you please return
and play again that melody of love for which I yearn?
Submitted June 26, 2022
for Mark Toney's the '2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 5' Poetry Contest
.
Your written words roll off my tongue, and I savor the taste
Captivating my desires, with your nostalgic embrace
Your verses I desire, your poesies I crave
Your sensual phrases place me in a daze
Rhythmically in sync, steadying the pace
Melodies in motion, no need for haste
Intoxicated by the scent of your lyrical fragrance
My imagination climaxes from your melodic persuasion
Your hypnotic undertones send chills down my spine
It’s like poetic seduction when I read between your lines
Chiquita Chiamaka Baity
^^^cdi^^^
Form:
her silken skirt flows
displaying her slender leg
and beautiful toe
as she sways rhythmically
to the notes of breeze
A marionette to the mind,
Whispering fading schematics,
Deluging the heart and soul, in a
Juxtaposition of good and evil,
Betwixt Heaven and hell, amidst
Snowdrifts that swirl before my eyes, while
Spiritless shadows restlessly carouse;
Discordantly, far from reach,
Vagrantly ambling across
Deadened Arcadias, glimpsing
Floating embers, in wake of
Vivid firestorms, swallowing me whole,
Faltering with every step I take,
Decelerating towards the escape I seek,
As it rhythmically scars my timorous nature,
Awakening the monsters hidden deep within-seeing red-
Bleeding out miasmic toxins, as noxious
Spores erupt, immersed in a haze of austerity,
While it seeps and saturates, throughout
Malignant wounds exposed, undulating between
The storms of push and pull, as daunting
Tasks, of rippling sequences, splits my
Chasmic core.
Soulless footprints are all that remain, as
Moon tides wash ashore, ebbing away
Towards dystopian depths.
To the sound of pelting rain, she woke in early morning
Upon the tattered tin roof, it rhythmically pitter pattered
No sunlight peeked through clouds on daylight's dawning
She thought of him and of the dreams that were shattered,
of the nights she'd spend without end, remorse spawning
Windblown rain pummeled windows, on sills it splashed
Obscured was her view, vision blurred behind each pane
Howled as does a wolf, thunder growled, lightning flashed
In rivulets like rain, was weeping she struggled to restrain
Like drops of blood from a wound, her teardrops splashed
That night, in shadowed lamplight she espied on the corner,
a familiar silhouette of one whose countenance was a given
Dark eyes of a raven who had waived his right to scorn her
No vocal cawing was riven as torrents of rain were driven
He was beyond the reach of this sad beseeching mourner
Outside she ventured, into the sting of nettled showers
for just one glimpse of him, she would offer as her reason
On the street, scattered at her feet, her espousal flowers
Fallacy, was an act Charlotte Bronte' would label 'treason'
Uncloaked, soaked, she stood with her memories for hours
From grief she could not hide nor abide her mirrored face
His eyes, for once unveiled, yet not one word did he speak
A webbing of fine silk threads spun, woven in warm embrace
He had raised no hand in farewell. A tear grazed her cheek
Without solace she would linger in portals of empty space
She trembled, shivering, eyes teary, there was no mistaking
her sips from tainted cup had the caustic taste of bitter gall
The impeccant knight chose the right to claim his forsaking
Nimbus skies lay overcast without surcease of a graying pall
Fraught with aching, she sighed one word, "heartbreaking."
~
Whispering apricot beams shine upon frilly sheers,
lazy shadows dance in daffodil dawn colors,
pirouettes of pleasured moments,
silently flowing on smooth brush stroke walls
You breathe, softly, the sweetest sonnet,
rhythmically exhaling beneath satin sheets
symphonic…bringing a grin to the sunrise,
blushing clouds hide behind a bashful horizon
Placing a gentle kiss upon rose petal shoulders,
you stir ever so slightly…eyes flutter like chiffon wings
hugging the pillow wistfully, floating within,
cascading between dreams of us
Exploring the mesmerizing curves of your body,
my lips touch warm porcelain skin,
the faintest sigh escapes, a smile appears
as your wispy fingers seek my own
Probing gentle folds, serene recesses of silken slivers
sipping the morn’s perfect elixir, ambrosia,
seeing your eyes wide open now
and falling once more deeply into their hypnotic beauty
Hands fondle my hair, wavy lengths, grasping
tickling heated embraces, melting into the warmth,
maple syrup cravings, sweetened stickiness in
pleasure flavored temptations
Sunshine illumines the room with sparkled effervescence,
writhing deep into the blue sky destinations,
azure visions of springtime promises kept
and green grass wanderings
I rise with you, fall with you…with this perfect time,
mirroring movements in reflective crescendos, rapidly,
as your voice sings my name, feathered pillow melodies,
an ending ovation in hummingbird inspired quivers
And you collapse, tethered breaths, tiny giggles
pulling the sheets tight to your chin playfully
I peer up, cinnamon eyes gleam, twinkle,
rejoicing as brand new day begins…in love
~
It is an unusually cold morning here so
I thought I would repost this and warm
the place up a little. : )