Best Sceneries Poems
I've gone too far to ever come back
bad luck stuck in a mental trap
I’m going to start accepting facts
Suck in no air so lungs collapse
I had ambitions to reach the top
Until I saw how high it sits
A fear of heights told me "stop"
So I live my life in the pits
Singled out and always the one
Acting like a stupid prick
Single now and always a one
thinking that I must be thick
Never in love never content
Jumping dumb from bed to bed
Every friend came and went
Dump them slump then in to dread
I circle around this sinking drain
I’ve seen the sights this life can give
sunken deep down in odious pain
I live with only life to give
I live this gift this life I live
though nasty times are these
I take the roughest with the snuggest
in changing sceneries
I don’t eat food sleep or chat
I live without routine
I don’t compete my mood is flat
I have no social scene
I gift back this life I was given
This gift no good for me
I wish that I can be forgiven
A want to be set free.
4/2/2019 *favourite from last week contest sponsored by Lu Loo
Somewhere in the universe
Beyond the boundary of earth’s gravity
Travelling light becomes a reality
Weightless, as no baggage is recognized
There’s nothing to hold you down
Far above the clouds where time is void
With lazy sun-filled days come sweet dreams
Of a place far away, beyond this sphere
Where sceneries in Rockwell paintings may be real
Where man and nature live in mutual respect
And children flourish in innocence and peace…
Somewhere far, above the clouds
~*~
6/20/'13
From buckwheat bloom to goldcup flower,
From my sill of shade, to your wealthy dower,
The junctures, the times, we came upon together.
Now these goldcups, finally had color.
Transpiring your truths, I tally a noble four,
And they, are like roses in the moor.
For you, there'll be no more crying.
For you, I can go on, thriving.
Your pansies in the yard, choired to sing,
And clover clads, don't serve the deceased.
But shuns us away, from the vile who surmised,
And tying our knot with the glories of morning.
The flag of my disposition, compels to insist.
And my body's static, begging to persist.
'Till you took the first step, willing to assist.
Over day, overmorrow,
Wherever you may go, I would eagerly follow.
Since you made me one, when I was an aeolist.
If the Almighty may endorse, I certainly would,
I'd hold your hand, reminiscing what zinnias could,
I'd squire you round the gay meads, laden with gold,
As we turn to eye the darkness we left behind.
Pondering, juxtaposed in our lore,
On the patches of green, where we once tread before.
I love all the roads we will walk together.
I love all the sceneries we will witness together.
All the questions we will shyly ask each other,
And all the answers to them in every moment.
So I pray, that He won't take you from me
'till death clads us together,
Forever, in our Eden.
Adoration grows tenfold, sublime serenity convenes
Above the starry skies I see legends meet
Cloaked in a whisper of a mist delighting the mind’s eye
Gently gliding towards my sight I draw a deep sigh
Contemplation of wispy memories long said
Succumbing to whimsical, perhaps unheeded shred
Great beauty insistent in its plight
Grips my very haphazard sight
Alas I cry but I look anew
Surrendering to wondrous view
Conjoining eves amid midsummer’s bathed conviviality
Intensely gorgeous plateaus encounter mystical assembly
Magnificent sceneries encompass still untouched milieu
Astonishment weathered by saturating the view
Stilled backdrops sprouting splendour inspired
Awed by intimate fervour the mind remains wired
When days have dawned and dusk has drawn
Pray hear me do not grow untimely forlorn
For the day may draw to a close but know
Another so splendid will surely grow
Calm and soundless
escapes of
beautiful sceneries
dormant,
as the Pharaoh's daughter
BY early morning dawn !
Cool starlit darkness,
landscapes of subtle colors,
mulched in softest light ...
The sky slowly transitions
from deep blue to hues of pink,
orange *
gold *
As the air crisp and cool carries the scent of dry earth
to your nostrils, one grain of sand at a time
Hints of blooming desert
like flowers falling on you,
after a long awaited rainfall (inhale) it
Evening arrives,
the dreamer,
lost in a desert dream
arrives at dusk's door.
Looping colors of terracotta and rustic brown
Closer to the Nile the heart is seen,
seeking and searching,
For Sacred Rivers that flow
Inside the dreamers mind,
the soft winds blow,
just before they settle in,
setting the world on fire with,
AFTERGLOW !!!
A lily sits frozen upon a white mountain,
Overseeing the crimson sun.
Overseeing landscapes with striking ginger and emerald,
That even God dreams of such blissful sceneries.
Its Wind blows the Grass,
Into a wave motion, swiftly, and gently moving towards the lily,
Yet such a gentle gesture is unable to sooth away its bitter cold.
When it rains and falls on the ground,
Striking sounds of a piano echo’s throughout its pores.
Leaving a beauty, a masterpiece,
Trapped in a cold glacier, unable to feel,
The sweet rush that you feel,
When you hear and see what the simple things in life has to offer.
This is my story…
A headless lighter, a writer
Mix up with silver long metallic
Make the agitations clear cold then warm
Neurons from above became so clear
I can hear my heartbeats like a doldrums
Because I’m just a woman with a perfect body
But now, it turned flat because of my past histories
My body was an image of different sceneries and echoes
That’s why I burned this five handed plant to disturb mosquitos
That anytime can suck my blood from within,
but their proboscis injected the smoke from the air
it became toxin for my veins, a bad effect to alter my inner beauty
and then the sensation…
Where am I?
This game was made by the influence of black society,
Their intentions were white but the grey matter strikes
Then now it became black…
My past that filled with conqueror, with their influence
They kidnapped my siblings, my children
My past that burdened with rapist
They took it all for me… everything…
And now… recollections…
The only way to forget these
Is by getting in again with their systems
Again use their solid potions
To forget everything, my life, my history, my spirit
Out of hue,
Every time.. again… I see myself in black, I knew
…
But all have their end point of time…
I want to find myself again… Where is Mary Jane?…
The real, new… Mary Jane of Barangay Tibay
I deduce, and then seduce it to bring back my old persona
To write another chapter...
but its too late..
I heard some footstep like a machinegun
In this dark room where I have surrendered
Since yesterday…
Is this because, now I realize the real meaning of life?
But he arbitrate that my half still in pain
And still…
Can a beast… can destroy the equity
from the green inferno?
In my instance, the beast coincide
Like a cannibal longing for a fresh meat
in the middle of extinction…
…
“Who are you?” “What are those?”
Mary Jane Said.
The looks were so unfamiliar
He grabbed me… he undressed me
He gave me what he think I deserve…
All became so clear….
Finally I met Him…
And there’s a red blanket everywhere
My heart starts to stop
My spirit try to comeback
But then…
I found myself at the ground,
And then he found a home inside my body
A grief for my grave
There’s no chance to paint back myself
IN THE VALLEY OF YOSEMITE
Today, as I took a walk through,
The valley of Yosemite, such
A beauty that lies within
The rocks, trails, and the falls
There is a place where
Clear blue sky's embrace
Where the trees are tall
And are rooted within rocks
As I lift my head up to
The sun that dries my tears,
That falls from my eyes, there
Is a breeze among the pines.
In the early morning as I
Follow the longest trails,
Keeping my steps steady and strong
Mountains, blue skies, animals, white snow.
Yosemite with many trails and sceneries
Of beauty, hikes, through John Muir and
Glacier Mountains, peaceful feelings
Here In the valley of Yosemite.
copywrited @ 2008
Form:
Camaraderie that please
Hymns released in penning
Essence of writing
Memories that linger
Insights without stinger
Sceneries projected and displayed
Thoughts delivered, not delayed
Revival of inner soul
Your offering in a bowl
Oxygen that resuscitates
Flows through the body and enervates
Poetry that lasts
Over the years that blasts
Elements of Chemistry
Touching the lives of many
Resonates in artistry
Your voice in honor of humanity
How do you do?
I missed you.
Day and night
In every twilight
Never wane about you.
Gliding in the snow,
like you always do
In the middle of the Alps
Not between gaps
Sceneries of you
are my portrait.
In every eclipse
Dashing to the strait
Everglades wrap up my glimpse
Mementos of nexus
Yonder of hiatus.
Shimmer of yoke
Exalting joke.
Leverage of time
Fantasy of mime
God Wrote a Poem
Events that took part in our life
We don’t think we know it all
God wrote a poem for our insights
Immersed in experience, to swim the crawl
God wrote a poem for me and you
Look around, it’s written on His bounty
In flower’s scent, we are raised to view
Sceneries that inspire, humbly grow to infinity
Like I do, to read what it means
My eyes understand, the love to repair
His message sent into my dreams
Poetic dialogue to open up despair
Born to the rhythm of two hearts
One from your mother and yours
Reaching your way into light’s art
That first cry resounds that endures
It’s the first poem ever written
God’s grace to loving parents
Cries of a baby, as mother cries in response
Sounds convey feelings into words to understand
God wrote a poem through sights and sounds
Unknown, until we succumbed to silence and darkness
Realizing message it tells and clear shapes that astound
We are His written poem out of nothingness
August 11, 2015
A mere walk in the street with some old memories,
At a mute dawn with lighted bulbs;
Recalling again some old sceneries
Sore retrospect running in my arteries.
Under the bridge I came; to wonder
Heard some drops falling on its top!
Declaring the demise of the silence hereunder
The rooftops began to crack by the thunder.
A forlorn feather struggling to rest on a concrete.
When it found a sleeping puppy,
It slipped on his feet.
Contiguous to him- it took a seat.
I slithered over a perished white paper,
figured out it was a love note!
yearning to reach its friend ,from a weeper,
saying that-without her-he is a forsaken laker.
He also conveyed the conventions they made:
"We can conquer the world together."
"Thou art my harmony and my shade,
"so no farewell is to be bade."
Suddenly! a phantom of a car drew near
And alas, I was in the middle of the road reading the note
I resigned to this feeling of fear.
And soon was a vapid body of a deer.
The last thing I glimpsed, was:
A worn out man on an old bicycle
-tattered though it was, it showed no flaws-
Waving at me; manifesting his sympathy and awes.
I discerned there was no reason to survive
This venom of old grievances
Decided to eat me alive!
And there was no cure to make me thrive..
Struggle-didn't I- to remain
No echoes of merry sounds to listen
No shadows of love, but pain,
Nothing alleviated my heart's sprain.
I left the glass broken
And I seek no returning back.
So many words left unspoken
But the tale is not yet woven:
Because the rain was washing my dust!
It didn't want me to rust.
And the thunder was roaring for me
To look around and realize the glee!
The peacefulness by which the puppy slept
And the shelter offered for the feather to be kept.
The love note that made me believe love still exists,
And old is gold with the bicycle despite its twists
And now I could see the sun on the horizon,
I- with the whole sleeping world-has risen.
Philippine is the shining Pearl of the Orient Sea,
Famous for its boundless natural wealth and beauty;
Land where many noble heroes bravely fought for us to be free,
I'm proud to embrace my beloved homeland’s great history.
When Spaniards came first to our beloved archipelago,
Enamored by great sources of spices and goods in richness’ flow,
Spanish Jesuits priest named it, “Perla Del Mar De Oriente,”
For its lands’ treasures and sea pearls, wasn’t it dolce?
Its beautiful name keeps echoing from east to west,
Along with other, “the region of the rising sun caressed”
Written and portrayed in one of the poems of Dr. Jose Rizal,
Our national hero whose achievements and patriotism were colossal.
Philippine is the sweetest land of the morning,
Its biodiversity's generous provision is fervor burning;
With its most hospitable, very friendly and hardworking people,
All visitors are welcome to sojourn in our land as home for all.
Come and visit many tourist’s wonders and amazing sceneries,
In Island of Luzon, Visayas and Mindanao, both provinces and cities;
It's more fun in the Philippines, so you all come,
We offer best places for holidays- so relaxing, fabulous and awesome!
Surging war country to country for dominance. Killing people for own contentment only gives learning lessons to kids and their kids. Will say this is the way of life....
Just imagine the future world;
Dry desert less greenery,
Gift for Future kids;
Nature they will eulogize,
Green sceneries hung on walls;
Never will remember,
The days of past;
Peace dove will no more,
Carry olive branch;
Live animals and birds,
Kids will watch in ultra TV,
Or museums movie halls;
Vultures will watch human carcus,
And dance in sky;
Kids will play with live guns,
Carry explosive grenades;
Bhoom, bhoom bombs,
As crackers blast;
As if were commemoration,
Of New year eve;
The shattered homes,
Injured running hither thither,
In pursuit of refuge;
Blood ridden bodies,
Lie in the streets unnoticed;
Never will wish to dream relation,
Emotions, love will wane;
Human will lose humanity;
Super modern world
Will act same as stone age,
The only difference,
They will carry weapons
And latest gaggets in hand;
© Sadashivan Nair
From Chicago to Tampa Bay in a Ford Granada some time in the mid- 70's. Unfortunately, we were not interested in mountains, because we took interstate 75 and drove through Tennessee 'at night'. We felt the elevation but never saw the Smoky Mountains.
As we proceeded south, our four year old kept asking, "Are we there yet?" Can you blame her? We should have had at least one mountain story to tell; and why did we not take time to enjoy the healthy smoke? We arrived in Tampa by way of mostly 'flat lands'.
On another occasion we drove from northern Mississippi to Atlanta. While there, we not only viewed, but also trekked until we grew tired. The visit on 'Stone Mountain' was a good one as we also enjoyed the beautiful water fall.
Fast forward to 1981, and find me driving a '79 chevy chevette from San Francisco to Lake Tahoe. Oh, what a ride! From just above sea level to over 9,000 feet and the worst head ache of my life. Our second child who was then four was on board, but he was head ache free. Nice sceneries, and mountains aplenty, but I should have had my head examined; not because of the elevation, but because I had the audacity to drive a Chevette.
Later in the early 80's with my entire family on board, I headed up another mountain in Marin County, Ca. This time there was plenty of room and power in an 8 cylinder full sized Chevy van. Just beyond the Golden Gate is Mt. Tamalpais, but we never reached the top, because my wife changed her mind.
My most recent mountain experience was a scenic view from a Jumbo Jet. Returning from a vacation by way of Portland, I had a nice view of *Mt. St. Helen 36 years after the mountain blew its top in 1980. No, that does not make me a 'Mountain Man'; but from where I sit 30 feet above sea level, it is rather refreshing.
08052017PSContest, Mountains, Julie Rodeheaver
*Or Was it Mt. Hood?