Best Roused Poems
I still recall our first poetic glance,
dormant pen roused my fingers to dance.
Her love was like a cherry blossom tree,
which at first blossomed so beautifully.
When a tender breeze took each fragile bud,
we stood naked, vulnerable to the flood.
Broken branches fell, as love became silent,
our poems burned in fires, ever so violent.
Her absence formed a lawless state of mind,
vacant heart bled for memories left behind.
Some say sorrow washes away with rain,
but in heartbreak, torpid wounds leave a stain.
Love is a balance of peace and distress,
yet it's something two souls cannot suppress.
Simple Sonnet
Silent One
Example for what is love contest.
Categories:
roused, love, love hurts,
Form:
Sonnet
Can it be, into this world we are dropped
from heavenly streams that have never stopped?
With sweet hope gifted to our souls delight,
oceans of love and its fiery desires;
ladies so fair, we thank our keen eyesight
and leap into romance hottest fires.
Can it be, wonderment is our reward
given for living in a world so hard?
With love's soulmate waiting a heart to touch,
deepest seas of hot sexual pleasures;
daring to embrace and love very much
this bountiful store, of life's great treasures.
Can it be, that in life's short duration
we go beyond mere infatuation?
With deeper dreams that bless spirits in need,
grant romantic nights of sweetest relief;
birth greatest pleasures of harvested seeds
fruited in soul's spiritual beliefs.
Your questions asked with pulsing energy
of lovers’ wonderland of synergy..
Gifts do flow from fountain to foundations
of souls inspiring minds to understand;
seductive passion’s yearning flirtations
of red embers roused to lusty flames fanned.
In awe you long to know love’s mysteries,
untangling threads in tender reveries..
Of all the gold offered in sun’s rich rays
Sol would be poor in the worth of our love;
for never could there be more wealth of praise
than for ambrosial taste from gods above.
During this life as our lustrous hearts’ beat
we can transcend mundane with love’s white heat..
Our physical plane of mortal being
is heightened with intimate unity;
body and soul in tantra foreseeing
weaving love’s strands into eternity.
Robert J. Lindley and Susan Ashley
(a collaboration)
July 31, 2018
*For the purpose of this collaboration, tantra represents the weaving of strands into a unified whole and liberation of energy and expansion of consciousness*
Categories:
roused, appreciation, romantic love, sensual,
Form:
Rhyme
The Amorous Mystique
Can it be, into this world we are dropped
from heavenly streams that have never stopped?
With sweet hope gifted to our souls delight,
oceans of love and its fiery desires;
ladies so fair, we thank our keen eyesight
and leap into romance hottest fires.
Can it be, wonderment is our reward
given for living in a world so hard?
With love's soulmate waiting a heart to touch,
deepest seas of hot sexual pleasures;
daring to embrace and love very much
this bountiful store, of life's great treasures.
Can it be, that in life's short duration
we go beyond mere infatuation?
With deeper dreams that bless spirits in need,
grant romantic nights of sweetest relief;
birth greatest pleasures of harvested seeds
fruited in soul's spiritual beliefs.
Your questions asked with pulsing energy
of lovers’ wonderland of synergy..
Gifts do flow from fountain to foundations
of souls inspiring minds to understand;
seductive passion’s yearning flirtations
of red embers roused to lusty flames fanned.
In awe you long to know love’s mysteries,
untangling threads in tender reveries..
Of all the gold offered in sun’s rich rays
Sol would be poor in the worth of our love;
for never could there be more wealth of praise
than for ambrosial taste from gods above.
During this life as our lustrous hearts’ beat
we can transcend mundane with love’s white heat..
Our physical plane of mortal being
is heightened with intimate unity;
body and soul in tantra foreseeing
weaving love’s strands into eternity.
Robert J. Lindley and Susan Ashley
(a collaboration)
July 31, 2018
______________________________
*For the purpose of this collaboration, tantra represents the weaving of strands into a unified whole and liberation of energy and expansion of consciousness*
Categories:
roused, art, beautiful, deep, devotion,
Form:
Rhyme
Blush
fair skies
mist Sol-kissed
citrine seduced
mimosa clouds bask
dreamy in champagne light
golden-god’s sparkle fills
chalices roused and
rouged as poppies
hail dawn with
unfurled
whorls
Susan Ashley
August 16, 2021
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Merse
Sponsor: Malabika Ray Choudhury
*rouged: verb; French; colored red*
*image: Nature Wallpapers > Fields > Poppy field at sunrise*
Categories:
roused, beauty, flower, morning, nature,
Form:
Verse
While whispers shush on sheltered shores, as soon the cockcrow quakes,
the seas descry a skittish sky, sense summer zephyrs wake –
roused passions neath the sunrise pulse, the whitecaps throb and ache.
Along the crests crawl shallow shades the soaring sun effaces
and rains in streams enhance the dreams that fantasy embraces
while ocean sprays of yesterdays reveal forsaken faces.
The midday sun has slowed its run, a shrinking puddle steams,
between the knells of shattered shells drift soaring seagulls’ screams –
the beauty wends but never ends, or so it surely seems.
At dusk a ruddy disk descends, the skyline's furnace burns
and neath the swells where Neptune dwells, an undercurrent churns –
a seahorse hides and seaweed bides until the tempest turns.
While twilight hosts the winds with ghosts of barbed electric spangles,
a mermaid braves the crashing waves adorned with starfish bangles –
her spirit yearns in twists and turns entwined in rockweed tangles.
As seven stranded seamen scan the dimple-dappled moon,
a brace of surly Sirens serenade a lonely loon –
the breakers pound and sometimes sound a melancholy tune.
Soon gales ignite the briny night and rip the skies askew
with zigzag teeth flashed deep beneath a blazing bolt tattoo –
storms, spent, subside in ebbing tides, then all begins anew.
Categories:
roused, nature, sea, sky,
Form:
Rhyme
Mission of the Yellow Songbird
A long highway road stretched its legs before me,
In a place where tumble weeds were conceived,
December evening chasing daylight back to morning
Dusk robed in faded colors starving out the sunshine
Miles put themselves between me and home
With thickets of brier brambles cradled between north and south
Alive with vesper choruses of tiny songbirds.
A gentle tap on my front fender
Roused me from hypnotic highway stupor like popping thunder
I shuddered deeply as possibilities shook my soul;
Maybe one of those gigantic bugs – maybe? Maybe?
But when I stopped my heart seized to solve the mystery
A tiny yellow songbird plastered to my grill wings still open to flight.
Gentle spirit of eternal compassion touched, caressed, my wailing sorrow
Then guided me to a desert tree with perfect boughs,
That welcomed songs of matin mornings from a tiny bird,
To lay to rest God's tiny messenger beneath his favorite tree
Songbird with perfect pitch would no longer sing praise into Heaven's face.
Called to the road again, tears raced down my cheeks
As numb miles raced by with a litany of why in each drop
Time came to take a mountain road from fertile valley to foggy ocean crest -
Screaming round a sharp curve to a screeching stop
Accident, I thought, of two cars only six cars ahead of me –
No ordinary scene -two burned out fiery shells one atop the other!
Realization, like a candle in the darkness, sent out sharp beams
I would have been in that accident had not a precious songbird
Given me a second chance to sing in ministry and embrace this grief;
In the deepest part of my grieving heart, I know our precious God
Gathered to his heart the mission of this tiniest crushed warrior
Who now sings beneath God’s window in the eternal day.
5-17-22
Contest: Divine Intervention
Sponsor: Chantal Anne Cooke
12/14/22
Contest: Poetry Marathon Mile 23
Sponsor: Mark Toney
30 Lines of a 30 Line Limit
Categories:
roused, bird, blessing,
Form:
Free verse
In my past existence,
circumstance sowed my roots
deep into woods of foreign soil,
slowly I ascended spreading my wings,
yearning to be evergreen,
blossoming in summer with glossy verdant leaves -
I became the soul of the earth.
Yet, I never belonged,
among a promenade of silver skinned pines,
who mocked my rough brown bark.
I was born to flourish in a tropical oasis,
so autumn winds stole my diverse petals.
I stood vulnerable with
bare branches shivering in silence.
Snow fell gently,
as my crumbling core began to rot.
Fate slashed at my anchor like a mad man with an axe,
until I collapsed with my sap bleeding dry.
I was left to slumber in melancholic meadows,
abandoned in murky misty moors.
In death,
I pondered, will anyone miss me in times of;
silence, anger, tears, smiles, laughter and regret?
Although they cannot hear nor see me,
will they still feel me in their hearts?
When they gaze at the night skies.
Will they find me among the stars?
Lost in thought,
yearning stardust and moonlight melodies,
my soul connected with an ethereal spirit,
an aromatic aura I had never felt -
I was finally found.
Her soft lotus touch roused a fluorescent glow.
Our hearts illuminated resembling the golden orb.
As my beloved portrays me in her poetry,
we wander in fields of forever,
commemorating instead of cremating memories.
Her devotion plants a special seed in her bronze orchard,
creating an immortal poetic garden -
where we bloom as flowers in all four seasons.
Categories:
roused, analogy, emotions, extended metaphor,
Form:
Free verse
The Winter Blues
Robert J. Lindley
Winter blew in with a scant little whimper
Fall skulked away with hardly a peep
Deep cold, blowing winds fit some's temper
Yet others they sadden enough to weep!
Snow brings its beauty and shining charms
Frigid air sets furry critters about
Blizzards blasting forth set great alarms
Where frozen forested cries ring out.
Nature knows best and gives as she pleases
Hardest season sets the coming stage
Death and pain, of which Spring then eases
Time for each, says the wizened sage!
Cold chills, hang glisten silent through the night
Decembers solstice sets the stage northbound
Jack Frost pretends to be Earth's white knight
Dark days of winter winds; ice-kiss the ground
Autumn renews chilling barren vows,
Wonderland enables the sun on numb
Icicles form, a voice shared -leaving nature roused
Winter's blue melodies washed down with rum
A cold peril storm, enjoying the winter sky
Frostbitten dawn, desolate sunset of worthlessness
A leafless desire to intensify nature's supply
Loss from exposed skin, of hopelessness
***
Snow, Sleet, and hell; patients needing detox
Atlas Spring gives way to the Viral Equinox
(Robert Lindley and Poet Destroyer co-write)
~ ~ A Poet Destroyer Collaboration ~ ~
----------------------------------------------------
Contest: Collaboration Celebration- subject- Winter Reflections.
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Categories:
roused, age, analogy, angst, art,
Form:
Rhyme
Pondering a l o n e on melancholy,
As pain keeps me far from being jolly,
Those black clouds and the sun h i d i n g behind
the rain-kissed breeze blow crisp thoughts to my mind,
Wondering, I hone my p o e t i c skills,
Inspired by c r e a t i o n's mind boggling thrills,
The duet of birds w a f t s through rhythmic rain,
As words b u i l d up midst the m a z e of my brain,
Wandering through known recesses of m i n d,
My muse roused from sleep, I gladly now find
refreshing r e f l e c t i o n s from Nature's well
b r e a k my spirit free from w o e b e g o n e spell.
09/25/17
Categories:
roused, nature, poetry, sorrow,
Form:
Rhyme
Kiss by the Passing Breeze of Awakening
Dust of divine whimsy
Flutters softly on unconscious cheeks
With ephemeral dawning
Fleeting like the flash of silver sandals
In moonlight - here then hidden -
Stepping out of the opaque
Soul stirring from oblivious daydreams
Stepping into moments of classical
Lavender-rose moments.
The leaven of breezes in stardust essence
Flares in lambent clarity
Caches of chimera, that drain the heartbeat,
Shrivel in bursts of cheeky shooting stars.
Aroused from the depths of sleepwalking,
Grace notes float on rose scents
Harvested in potpourris for strangled screams
Scrambling through midnight fogs,
Sentience revisits in soft swirls
Awareness, roused by reveille,
Stirs caressed codas in soft preludes,
Awakes in fresh mindful raptures
Nurtured by a passing angel kiss.
Categories:
roused, life, senses, sleep,
Form:
Verse
“Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.” – Carl Sandburg.
Glowing like the roused firefly glows,
Stirring souls, poetry just knows,
Love, fire, boldest winds of desire,
Rains blessing, song without a choir.
Words pouring out soft, gentle prose,
Glowing like the roused firefly glows,
Glistening dreams, love to extremes,
Beckoning from silence that screams.
Dance of dances, fluid verses,
Poetry that grace coerces,
Glowing like the roused firefly glows,
Poems who don’t just tell but shows.
Rhymes and rhythms, tenderly abide,
Singing of light, sometimes wild-eyed,
Hearts might remain in the shadows,
Glowing like the roused firefly glows,
Categories:
roused, appreciation, muse, poems, poetry,
Form:
Quatern
Herself was lost
So far away
So far inside
Could she be rescued?
A part of her
Understood the mission.
Another part
Rolling its eyes
Resign or rescue?
Muse came out suddenly
Shaking her about
Kicking about the severity
Herself not easy to find
But worth the mission.
Muse grabbed her by both hands
And pulled her to forefront of her truth.
Body not as important as
Mind, attitude, creativity,
And imagination.
She roused for a second.
Her eyes open.
Thinking for the first time
That maybe a save was
Possible. Muse smiling.
Categories:
roused, muse, self,
Form:
Free verse
Trying to recapture the joy of those winter days is difficult. School cancelled: sun shining through the sheer, white, curtains into an all too girlie room, the sound of a tea kettle's whistle, the ice cold feeling of oak boards on bare feet, between scatter rugs; I ran to the kitchen. The transistor radio sounded, still calling out school closings. The snow sifted down.
bright sun
sparkles on snowflakes –
the plow roars
Quick phone calls, punctuated with giggles, roused a gaggle of neighborhood girls. White skates in hand, I burst out the door. I rushed toward the swampy area behind the neighbor’s house. My rubber boots crunching crust above the powdery fluff. At the edge of the watery wood, I stood staring. Boys, I see the boys in there. They have their skates on already. Tommy Maloney, my crush, skated toward me.
his black waves
dusted with snow –
whoops of delight
A hummock of snow-topped grass served as a seat. I removed my boots from beneath the zip sides of snow pants and try to tie laces new white skates. Once done I stood wobbling, weak-ankled. Tommy laughs, as knock-kneed I attempt a glide toward him falling on my butt. Oh how his eyes sparkled, an Irish rogue at twelve. Kneeling, Tommy began to re-lace my skates. I remember wishing, so much, he would kiss me.
First Contemporary haibun online Fall 2013
Published in Winter Legends 2014
Categories:
roused, kiss, snow,
Form:
Haibun
The oncoming truck swerved into my lane
And there was not enough time for veering
But I was suddenly relieved from the pain
By a golden horse with hind legs rearing
We galloped straight down the road for apace
And then turned onto a large green expanse
I hung on tightly, not used to a race
Though I was willing to give it a chance
My dull senses were roused on the fresh field
And my pale skin warmed from the sun outside
I slowly loosened my grip and revealed
That I could never fall off if I tried
I shouted out with a vivacious voice
Unlike the one that was used to hiding
With newfound feelings that made me rejoice
Due to the golden horse I was riding
In an instant we reached the tall mountains
That I’d only seen in big picture books
The kind with dreamlike waterfall fountains
That we climbed up without a second look
There were no hurdles too large in our way
Or tough boulders too slippery or coarse
That could in the slightest ever delay
Or stop the progress of my golden horse
We moved as swift as if running downhill
Giving me motive to close my own eyes
But once at the top got an awful chill
When the brave stallion leaped into the skies
This time I shouted out “Why in god’s name
Must I be saddled on this golden horse!?”
For a deed like this is truly insane
Until knowing my death, fulfilled its course
David Fisher-posted on 2/10/2015-For Structured Forms-Iambic Verse Contest
Categories:
roused, horse, journey,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
The North Pole looks so pretty like a winter fairy land
It is Christmas Eve and everyone must lend a hand
Frosty the snowman is busy having such fun
He's teasing the elves and making them run
He says ….
‘Go get some trimming and wrap all those gifts …
don’t overload the sled or it’ll get stuck in snow drifts’
The elves work so hard as Christmas is on its way
They need all the toys ready for that very special day
Sled bells get attached, oh how those jingle bells ring
The elves are getting so exited they begin to sing….
“When Santa got stuck in a snow drift he began to shout...
He’d better take a spade with him to dig the presents out”
Santa Claus stood there laughing in his coat of ruby red
He asks the elves to get ready to help him load his sled
Huge sacks of presents are piled high on the bright red sled
The reindeer's had been resting; Santa roused them from their bed
With a hearty ho ho ho Santa and the reindeer's take to the sky
He hopes all the children are tucked in bed - they shouldn’t see him fly!
On Christmas Day the children wake, their faces are aglow
They see the pile of presents and the sled tracks in the snow
Contest Ho Ho Ho
Required words....
Elves, Frosty the snowman, Christmas, jingle bells, toys, sled, sled bells, Santa Claus, trimming, Winter fairy land
11~28~16
Categories:
roused, christmas, children, fun, humorous,
Form:
Couplet