Best Ruminates Poems
Sitting on the cusp of dusk and evening
Placidly he ruminates where life has been
When she still believed in vibrant springs
And exulted dawning of purple mornings
Echoing exuberance of seasons’ calling
Fragile, yet colorful, as autumnal leaves
Delicate, aesthetic, as snowflakes falling--
Until she chose to surrender her dreams.
Oh! how fervently she cherished streams
Zigzagging ebulliently on their property
Digging lanes through prairies dark green,
Giggling, rushing, curving, on life-journey,
Pointing zealously, how to redirect destiny
Hosting daydreams of daffodils, milkweeds,
And tranquil bliss edifying lotus sanctuary.
Pity, neither did he feel her zestful appeal,
Nor could he allay those spaces left empty--
Between life as it is, and life that could be--
Saddled by incongruence defying harmony.
Lonesome he wailed tracing her footprints:
Cheered birds singing, doted stars twinkling,
Breathed-in her air scented with jasmines,
Buzzed in moth-passions of nocturnal winds,
Gazed deep woods where moon was rising,
And found her there, but not her meaning.
Yet, she came by, reminiscing through time,
Staying long enough, scanning the night skies--
But much as she tried, the Venus didn’t smile,
Alas! when she left, that was final goodbye.
April 28, 2021
Poem of the day on April 29, 2021
Placed 1st: This or That, Vol 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title chosen: Forlorn Hope
PLIGHTS FOUGHT TOMORROW KNOWN
WRITTEN FOR DR. MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR. HOLIDAY 2016 (Versified!)
As days transpires, better we focus.
As life transgress, better our voice.
A walk, a talk, a political aspect of religion and righteousness.
Via the Founding Fathers we separated church and state.
Socio-political and socio-religious are the floodgates.
As we remember, tears may drop,
Is it the strength we possess that ruminates us?
We overcame our struggles and we are abreast to our accomplishments.
We are the United States of North America.3
Analysis of our external environment let us know
that we are a strong workforce.
That we are no more separated by the color of our skin.
That our unity is our identity of different nations of human beings.
That our mien is our self-image of economy –
the” big picture” of demeanor.
When we falter, we recoup.
We do not assume we will fall from what others do.
We are the people of our regions that are vast and wide.
We are negotiators of our lives.2
As we celebrate today in our mind-sets,
we know what may overwhelm us.
This could be how far we have come.
Or, it could be how far we will continue to go -
to climb the mountains that we must peak -
to deplete human suffering from the illness we perceive.
That is what is known and all the possibilities.
We have witnessed many tragedies from the
time of formation to present day.
But oh, we can find glory just as well in our beliefs,
creeds, and unity.1
Envois is this discourse.
Pro-activism edifice verbalized.
But to no idiom this loll.
We are all part of the same universe.
Each has his or her role to play.
All are formidable when the goal is stated.
May one be easier than the other?
May we strive to be a part of the same country?
Where we are awe-inspiring but together.
That is on the same page.
Where our lives are the similarity, and the same is our home front.
This is right outside our front door.4
The plight is fought and tomorrow is known!5
_____________________________________________________________|
Written January 16, 2016!
In stillness of her spirit she sits there
with all her prowess she manipulates.
Her fingers’ ripples in coldest water
replenish mind and soul that ruminates.
Playing in nocturne, she’s being witnessed
by her governess . The simplicity...
Her portraits that adduce virtues she possessed -
laconic and clear view of chastity.
Oh, renaissance woman, you shine on top,
as you incandesce in mind love of arts!
You’re a czar bringing our decorum up-
women’s pride… imbue modesty in heart.
In the silence of our heart, we listen
in these memorabilia… you remain.
Oct. 14, 2013 2.15pm
©2013by Leonora Galinta
All Rights Reserved
Second Place
Contest: Sofonisba Anguissola-A contemporary Sonnet for a Renaissance
Woman-2nd in
the series
Judged: 2/4/2014
Sponsor: Poet Cyndi MacMillan
Tonight, the full moon blooms
And foils the looming gloom.
The remnant doom from noon
Has lost it's bullish tune.
And embraces dusk's eerie cool.
The village square it illuminates
Arena of moonlight tales of late
The little ones gather and wait
While the elderly engage in debates
And the goats noisily ruminates
The bright night, lights sparks
Of bliss and joy in trees' barks
The tall iroko whistle in parks
Where young lovers end their tracks
And skimpy skirts lose their tacks
The son of perdition frets unsure
The thief in the night fears exposure
The pirate sailor steers from ashore
The night fisherman denied action
For the kind light bathes the ocean
Tonight, the full moon beams proud
As the town crier makes his round
Belting forth a piercing sound.
While the town's chorus echoes loud
The stage is set for the yearning crowd
First day at college,
Encounter with a girl,
Gazes are exchanged,
Heart pounds,
Clock ceases to move,
Nothing happened further,
Goes back home and ruminates with a hidden smile,
Love is so pure and beautiful,
Everything turns fresh,
Even dark passenger makes way for geniality,
Aloofness takes the back seat,
Sweet dreams are aplenty,
Everything was near perfect until,
Mother exclaims, Wake up! It is 6 o'clock.
Form:
Oh! sweet verses of love, how gaily you recite tonight
Ballad of a pretty woman, lauding her knight tonight.
Rewarding entreaty, granting wish of love’s fantasy,
Tolling bells of glee, angels of bliss will alight tonight.
Thinking of romance beneath twinkles of euphoric stars,
Oh, I'm overjoyed, how quixotic feels moonlight tonight!
Pursuit of love endearing desires, anxiously inquires:
Will the blushing smile of beloved-eyes excite tonight?
On pillars of ardor, I built your castle of passions,
Will blossoms of your flowering longings delight tonight?
Voice of love that wrote our story, ruminates joyfully:
Embracing dreams of lovers, two souls will unite tonight.
Words of prophecy announce in epistle of romance:
Blazing fervor, spark of fervid hearts will ignite tonight.
Exulting in ardent kiss, as your name keeps calling me,
Existence of this prince vows to melt in your sight tonight.
Dazzling my zeal, seducing me in your sexy appeal;
Burning flame of my heart, your flirting eyes invite tonight.
Ah! our night shines in divine halo of Aphrodite,
Saluting love’s promise, epic fable we write tonight.
September 12, 2020
Placed 1st: Ghazal poetry contest by Silent One
Fourteen syllables per line (howmanysyllables.com)
Two palm shape a bowl for wound.
My mouth is a big hole of cry
Ruminates in the dark the sorrow
My legs flint-stone-
The hammers of night sparked
The cry from my chest
The sleepers of the graveyard heard it.
This is the hell where heart melted.
I see the dark, cleaves the silence
From ear to ear, like an old warrior,
Grinding the memory, agitating sadness,
Striping a heart of its leaves
The shadow lays his head on the wall.
The ravens are cheerful.
On October the little squirrels come
to trade their love for hazelnuts.
Love warms up the lonely hearts.
Love is crematory of loneliness.
Love is the crematory of my heart.
Two palm shape a bowl for wound.
My heart's stitches itch,
Forgetfulness is the heart drug.
Tomorrow I shall be different.
I shall be good as new
Written by © Fatima Nusairat
Dragonfly Damsel engaging such wonder
Discovers a world between water and land
Magical enchantment her filmy wings stand
Refracting worlds beheld from another
Lucent pools echo translucent colors
Iridescent gossamer winged flyer
Damselfly dance into the sun higher
Filling us with fervor as she hovers
Soaring predator scorched with her fire
Dragonfly protects and patrols her terrain
Teaching us balance is every thing
Anciently ruling this marshy mire
This gossamer flyer is awesome pay heed
She glistens along while skimming water
Fire burns inside her ever so hotter
Nothing compares to her exceptional speed
Protect what is yours, her message to us
Rational thought sometimes ruminates
Let go of “Father Time” who dictates
Rambunctiously live your lives with lust
Man, the funeral rhetoric intones
Is like a flower of the field
Rising up to be cut down;
Until he is no more than dust and bones,
And in the earth remains concealed
Beneath the prison ground.
Yet still, the drag of ages rumbles on
As the world in truth rotates
Spinning round in time and space;
And I will wait until all time is gone,
Eternal dreaming ruminates
And dreams will dwell upon your face.
And he stands apart, cold
While the world wassailed and reveled
In the full glare of the light
Till dusk comes beckoning.
He shrouds from the awkward embraces
A language in plethoric display.
His frame slanted, he observes.
From vantage angle, he gawks.
What endues them such ecstasy?
He mutedly ruminates
Did we not attain the same feat?
He self-chides, raspingly.
The concern of sea-fish with dry land
Paints the image of his indifference.
While the play of celebration ensues,
The boy-man stares and sighs.
His cogitations ferry him to the road ahead
Queries of 'what now', the signs spelt.
Transfixed but detached,
He pondered tomorrow's fate for all.
He shivered with dismay
And fended off a tear.
What reads the fate of the soldier ants
When they march sun-wards?
Who aids the infant cheetah
That was birthed deformed?
While his peers wassailed and reveled.
In the full glare of the world
He looked on, frigid, still, anxious.
Feet there, soul afar.
A tinge of relief, his sole solace.
OF THE NEW FLESH
A returned to open channels
Open to the unknown the beyond
Burning humming like angry hornets
Bottled in electric light and shadows
The whispers come through the void
Humming in the open channel
Of an ancient television set
Like a cryptic monolith, alive
The noise to signals, burning voices
Scream and chant arcane rights
That pushes n pulls the soul of things
Never dreamt of before, unseen
There in the dark the halogen arc light, bright
Blares its pure hot hollow holy light
Laying before me was a stark image of chrome
Of gears springs and electric circuitry.
Gracing suicidal insight
wickedly sharp blade
Mad for flesh and bone,
blood baptize in its righteous
fury for the masses to cut the cancer, away
Of the new flesh
this covenant of mechanical arts
And malice
A calculus of angels and insane
The insane idle smiles hide the dark shame
covered in a thin facade of normalcy
They hide lies that drip from those smiles
The hate so deep it blinds the eyes of tranquility
The secret lives of the damned
Burn, blares the new blade of silver
Bone n gears; the product of death
As the mechanical heart reimagined
ruminates and redefines
In heaven hollow facade
Silence of the holy realm
The static of Valhallas Halls
Sits a cathode ray tube
Full of angry hornets, fiery angels…
Humming into the sacred night
a blade flickers in delicate light
Dancing into shadows
from burning sacraments
A holocaustic humanity
Mad for flesh and bone
Baptize in blood
Born of righteous fury for the masses
To cut away the cancer
voices whisper
scream
call and demand:
“Long live the new flesh!”
In the ultimate I ponder and resonates
Sporadic melancholy treading thoughts
Void pneumatic aspirations that perspire in nothingness
The peripheral space spurts erratic waves
Spewed fantasy and ejaculates conglomeration
Palpitation of erroneous premature baby
That which is not flushed down is a street arching
Vivid escapades flowed sluggish and sticky
Unwinding terrestrial route it’s a dead end
Never to end but in illusion
Ruminates and castigated spits vomits
Miasma inhalation that draws petrified lunatics
Kindled joyful cleave less than platonic
Lost in haziness of pleasurable moments causing love anguish
Thrusting Warm Velvet labial interior
Sensuousness mesmerized at anatomical fission and fusion
Malodorous soaked sweat-draped dripping bodies
Enclosed, staffed and steam simmering moisture
Equivocal musty air radiated from euphoric entanglement
Perplexed awe mouth agape
Form:
A distinguished pair of spectacles, selfless and serene, doze snuggly atop a
Proud bureau of drawers.
A placid fireplace yawns and winks
As giggling embers tango on tiptoes with
Lilliputian logs,
haughtily cackling a cacaphonous tune.
Outside a stoic mist galumphs betwixt gregarious
shrubs and egotistical stars
Dewy eyed and squinting, windows, aching and arched, peep out--
Out to the blaring beams from a crochety moon.
A pensive pair of spectacles ruminates on sights
Carefully seen--
Of frugal birds and courteous walkways
And terraces splendid and keen
Now a scent of myrrh caresses the room
A pillow of mist blushing, blows kisses to
A muzzy moon
The Final Story
A ragged rhapsody ruminates in relentless repetition as the fathomless
fugitive foments fearful fragmentation thus ethereal eternity engulfs
egregious expropriation of quietus’s quiver quaking querulous quickstep’s
quest when stories surreptitiously seep silently seduced by savourless sadness
27th March 2018
Written for all my friends who suffer from depression
CHRISTMAS CELEBRATION
Now to recollect Happy Christmas Days,
While raising up daughters studying in school
So enthusiastic, also in craze
to decorate Christmas Tree! Kids cheerful.
Going on preparation, children in glee.
Candles to glow, shining stars to twinkle.
Putting Santa Claus beside Christmas Tree,
Smiling face of Santa showing wrinkle.
Me and my daughters to tie long strong string.
Small brass-made golden jingle bells in knot,
swinging swift with soft sound as they could bring
to welcome guests big Christmas cake being brought.
Reminiscence yields past Christmas story.
Now lone life ruminates bygone glory.
12/15/17
Third Place
'Christmas Story' Contest by Eve Roper
Third Place
'YOUR CHOICE ANY SEASON OR FESTIVE VERSE' contest by Brian Strand