Best Rinses Poems
An unhurried sun slides across the horizon
Preparing for slumber behind distant waves
And daylight’s last seagull rides thermals in search
Of a late night fish supper - the herring he craves
A paint shop explosion enlivens the skies
As the sun doffs its cap to the tail end of day
That silhouette seagull, against crimson, flys
Before finally veering and heading away
As one with the beach and the shoreline beyond
I watch vibrant heavens succumb
To a darkness profound although I stick around
And I wait for tomorrow to come
The night has its chills but no hectic-life ills
As I feed my small campfire with sticks
One deck chair, one fire is all I desire…
And a thermos for my caffeine fix
There’s no moon, no stars and there’s no beachfront bars
The surf is my soundtrack tonight
I’ve seen moons and stars work with Venus and Mars
To set all above me alight
But tonight is unpainted and I get acquainted
With shadows that flicker and prance
As I recline there, amused, I’m aware
That the fire makes my own shadow dance
I don’t truly doze and a distant bell knows
That I count off its chimes in the night
And as the world sleeps, somewhere near, a bird cheeps
And I know that it soon will be light
I’ll witness the day and then scurry away
Through the hustle and bustle, to bed
Inspired, I’m rewired, and yet, rather tired
With my first chapter clear in my head
My thermos delivers one last warming cup
As a new dawn blue-rinses the grey
A seagull, perhaps who went last night unfed
Circles early for breakfast today
The wind billows the trees with god-forsaken draft,
And rinses the limbs with splashes of rain.
Zephyr's raging bluster brings forth storm's chaotic craft,
Blowing silver threads to new starts again.
Sailing without order, the threads land where they may----
On fence, on plants, on a patio chair.
The small spiders, thus carried, will emerge in a day,
And crawl past your toes to find a choice lair.
“When trust is a walking phantom,
draped in dying dandelions,
let the wind blast forth its shattered promises,
as rain rinses away piercing pain of memories lost” Quote by Poet
the sky is a catacomb
of faceless promises and ghosts
clothed in tangled treachery
as trust is a wilted tulip~
embalmed in golden tears…
O’ deceived heart of the eclipsed sun
you were once glazed in jewels…
now a mourning mausoleum~
chanting a moonless requiem
resting in ashes of skeletal lies….
The moon casts a surreal light
Upon looking out of the window
The night is my mistress
Solitude my blanket
Then I think of you:
The daffodils dancing as they glisten
Your almond eyes,
Serene lips always rest unscathed -
Right every after kiss,
Your silly ponytail.
They speak to me in rhythms
They hush me in rhymes
As I haunt an honest silence
To save the calmness half death
My body aches to breathe your breath -
Your tequila breath.
I smile outstretched from ear to ear
For it brings the contemplative
mood of my soul
Your flavored lip gloss lingers on me now
Bewitched on how it bathes
As it rinses my lips - my chapped lips.
Like an ocean hugging its shore:
Sweet,
Toothsome,
Relishing -
It tastes like Paris.
Tonight I lie in bed,
A nest which doesn't offer
A place of comfort no more
Tossing and turning
Swaying restlessly
All because you stop singing my lullaby
It's our pillow upon my head
Reaching against my wet cheeks:
Dull,
Lifeless,
Colder than death -
Too later - Too soon
It would then be
Drowned by cobwebs
Soaked in tears.
Authors Note:
The Love Me or Love Me Not - Free Verse Poetry Contest
4th Place(Honorable Mention)
January 28, 2008
Sponsor: Mark Cotterman
Reading alone gets wit and wisdom,
Wide reading increases knowledge,
We can learn a lot by that process,
That only paves the way for growth.
We must make a note of all the books
That World calls as a treasure to hold
And we must acquire them shrewdly
And widen our knowledge brilliantly
As one grows, reading gets narrowed
For innumerable reasons to quote
Main is poor eyesight that blocks
One's reading power immensely
One easiest way to grasp the essence
Is by reading the quotes of great men,
Their distilled wisdom when is learned,
Our wit reaches its pinnacle admirably
Quotes are made with greatest thought
To tell the longest story in few words,
The time taken to read them is less,
We can read at any time, anywhere!
Reading a large number of super quotes
Rinses brain in the ocean of philosophy,
We become great masters of thinking,
Our words contain the best ideas easily
When one grows aged, strain is more,
Especially the eyes lose their power,
Endurance is also seriously affected,
Under such a condition, quotes help
Brief quotes easily remove one's grief,
They stun the World by their simplicity,
By mastering them, we reign supreme,
Our mind is filled with enormous wit
So, reading big books is no doubt fine,
If we have the power and proper mindset,
But, reading quotes will bring huge rewards,
Just twenty of them will elevate our thoughts
Reading habit must be ever continued,
We must constantly develop our brain,
We must equip it for doing useful acts,
Reading is the basis for any great feat!
Who will make a stand?
Countless like the seashore sand…
Who shall make a stand?
The end of mankind is at hand
Will someone save me?
Knee deep in regret, I see…
Save me from gravity's hold or I’ll be upset
Nighttime's rainfall shines upon my mindset
Make me feel a little bit more bold
Let my wings of flight slowly unfold
Release is a relief for you and I to behold
Your fire is burning within me, yet I’m so cold
Release me
Release me
Reflect on me
Radiant rain rinses it all away…
Mirror my pain
Ease my pain
Heal my pain
I’ve been squandering my time…my time…
Lost my soul in the dust and turned to grime
Here am I, alone in the shadows of your past
Here I am, trying to catch up to you, but you’re going so fast…
In need of release somehow
In need of true relief right now
I don’t need your vain remedy
All you do is watch me and desert me…
I will change who I am…who I really am
With hopes and chances of release
I shall overflow like water beyond the dam
I beg you, don’t be an awful tease
Please understand my heart’s need of a mend
My silent plea is for you to simply comprehend
My plea of set me free…
My plea of, also, leave me be…
You saw me all alone,
But not on my own
God has rescued, comforted and conquered me
With a calm release that has completed an eternity
(I made this poem shorter for the liking of my fellow readers…thanks for reading!)
The castellated treeline frames a hazy setting sun ,
lone hawk looks out for prey in silhouette,
the overture to twilight's next performance has begun,
it's audience are still, the stage is set.
As pastel greens and yellows turn to neutral greys and blues,
the dusk rinses the sky from East to West,
hay bales litter fields, witness to busy days,
spread out like an unfinished game of chess.
Leaves slowly turning copper ,signs of dying Summer's embers,
While cooling air reminds in whispered promise of September.
September
rinses
my skies blue
October’s
streaked sunsets
will have me
awash with wonder
Sept. 22, 2020
fluid arc,
gurgling of hose,
giggling of little girls, with long hair.
strawberry scent dizzies the air -
suds are everywhere.
waterfall rainbow rinses
youths cinnamon strands,
chubby cheeks jiggling.
sunshine dries soaked hair
as they continue to play
in my fresh air memories.
3/16/2020
Buried alive by your goodbyes
Airborne dead by your senseless lies
Overcoming feelings of hurt,
Seeking first His comfort
Drenched in silence
While the waters rinses away
The dread from my head
The squalid grief left me
Breathless for only a moment,
Then it disappears instead
So sick of the sorrow
So, I’m high up in the clouds
Let me live till tomorrow
Let me avoid the endless crowds
I won't wear my usual frown
While I swim in waters of blue
And trek on grounds of brown
I am sipping the liquids of morning dew
Succumb to courageousness
I won't ascend with sadness
Repugnant rage drifts away so fast
My happiness from above is so vast
Buried alive by your goodbyes
Airborne dead by your senseless lies
Overcoming feelings of hurt,
Seeking first His comfort
I'm the prey of mere procrastination
I'm falling victim to foolish sensation
Need effulgence and a sense of relief
From this rather squalid, despicable grief
Being sorrowful is extremely pitiful
This brief grief will disappear
And become something so beautiful,
So fear not, my doubtful dear
Relieve me
Release me
Release the demons from my mind
I'm a stranger in danger from long ago,
Simply left behind…left oh so blind
I'm a loner, all alone, trying to go with the flow
Everyday, I wish
I could soar away
The bottomless anguish
Maybe it’ll be today…
It’s been far too long…way too long…
Since I've seen the light (I'll make it tonight)
Since I've knew right from wrong
I will try with my might (I'll make it alright)
It still rinses everything
in a sacred wash,
gives a significance beyond
the boundaries of the natural.
The soft light falling on a field
appears sanctified, filtered
through a prism to dim
the Divine and so not blind
human sight.
It seems too simple to be only
the blessings from a mortal sun
and yet, bathed in its golden glow,
butterflies flutter
from flower to flower
as beautiful as angels.
According to Dr. Twelfth
Cosmetics impact health
Subvert true love by stealth
And squander limited wealth.
At the end of the day
Beauty rinses away
And the face on display
Appears withered and gray
All that money and pain
Is flushed down the drain
So its hard to explain
Why they do it again
When it comes to a test
The face men love best
Is not self-possessed
But quite manifest
In Ye Olde Gene Pool race
Neither beauty nor grace
Could begin to replace
A familiar face!
With moonlight, I pace… a quiet repose
That gazing far across a wind-tossed sea
Ringlets of tides beckon me, quietly.
Where an opportunity lifts my woes
As I in solace view the edge of bends
Until crests turn strong whirpool to downtrends
To appease my soul torn, a pain that grows.
Yet, the drifting wave rinses like a salve
The roll of tears, breaths…salty mist foregoes;
When my whimper exhales through ripples that heal;
And dissolves into mist on fate of zeal.
This burden released, heart of sea bestows
One final chance where new dewdrops spill,
A good luck rising from ocean's goodwill.
Opportunities Contest of Nayda Ivette Negron
summer before freshman year
stargazing from the muddy banks
of a class celebratory bonfire
across the roaring river
multiple guitar melodies
competing with the sounds
of joyous screaming and laughter
as well as the usual night life
ever the outsider
all alone in the crowd
why am i here?
cause she invited me
she rustles through the treeline
to stand riverside with me
wet clay between our toes
and lilacs masking the river scent
light astral conversation
with a bit of finger pointing
followed by awkward silence
and a chilling wind
by my hand she takes me
leading me down the trail
the sounds of our companions fading
as we draw nearer our destination
a dry dirt path between grass edges
leading us to a cobblestone stairway
once taken we find ourselves alone
secluded behind a rushing wall of water
she relinquishes my hand
and takes a seat
removing her shoes
she rinses them in the fall
i follow suit
sparking up light conversation
the butterflies trying to get out
and voice trying not to crack
rubbing the goosebumps on her arms
i blanket her in my hooded sweatshirt
she rests her head on my shoulder
and breathes a deep a sigh
a comfortable silence
for what felt like an eternity
dear god, let me die here
let this be my last memory of us
turning her gaze as she raises her head
leaning in slightly
a million neurons firing at once
as we get lost in each other
some unseen natural force
pushing us from both sides
ever closer our lips grow
until the universe explodes
perfect harmonious bliss
no other description will suffice
my hand on her cheek
hers on mine
we pull away slowly
smiling and satisfied
having answered the question
we were both too afraid to ask
a year of friendship expanding
like the cosmos above us
an entire universe formed from a single bang
a love story begins from one touch, one kiss
Maria Flores
1878-1923
Si, he was muy macho!
I was the last to see him.
Before Senor White sealed his body for eternity,
Inside the cheapest casket I had ever seen!
And I was working there, for White-Emerson,
From the time I was 16,
Combing the dead’s hair, and mixing make-up.
Señora White, she put the make-up on their faces,
And I stood back by the door and watched.
At first, it was two or three bodies a week,
Mostly white folk, stiff and cold as ice;
They were Whittier people I did not know;
Older folk with life’s road behind them,
And young childer, brought in by wailing parents,
Dead from sickness and accident.
I prayed for these poor people because they were sad.
Later, the visits of the ever-marching dead,
Became a more common event,
Every day he, Señor White, brought the dead in,
Every day I combed their hair.
This I did until I myself died in 1923,
Giving birth to my still-born son.
Then it was my turn for Señora White,
To apply my face with fake life;
Her creams, rinses and perfumes, magically,
Made me appear as alive as I was.
But oh, I wish now to trick fake death,
And live again,
Be there again,
Down in the dark embalming room,
There at White Emerson, with him.
Si, he was muy macho!
And yes, I was the girl to love Roscoe last!
Me, a nobody Mexican with little money.
Shh, let us whisper now.
Let us be quiet and honest;
I was the last one to coddle him there,
The last to stroke his lifeless bill,
My eagle of a man!
There in the still darkness,
He, the most handsome boy,
My eyes had ever seen!
Dead and lifeless there,
In my secret embrace!
Dead in my controlling grasp!
I combed his locks for two hours,
And prayed, yes, I prayed,
For his departed soul, and body too,
For, let it be known to all,
For it no longer matters at all,
I was the last girl to have him.
Muy Macho!