Best Scenes Poems
For My Sister and Brother Poets
Mornings, again refreshed, I wield up a
sledgehammer to strike the stone walls of
the confinement of my assigned nativity...then
seek to emigrate from those Purposes...to go
settle, an immigrant, in the more fertile territory
of Meanings, trusting a disclosure of my birthright
as a citizen among the searching population at
the address of Poetry — twin to the Soul — more
fertile for vines from the heart, more welcoming to
the orchards of Imagination, always ripe with songs.
Today’s afternoon was spent planting a grove of pink
dogwood saplings and sapphire iris bulbs nearby...
so someday they will bask in light, feeling winds
and us, too, walking past in admiration,sprinkling
our words of appreciation across the earth over their
roots. Birds sound dearly above as the dusk nears.
I work until the first sight of winking Venus...then,
take pages and pens with a flashlight under my tent
of sheets revealing on the net, a broad company
of my sister and brother poets, recounting — each
one of us — the full scenes of our day’s graced hours,
by words to one another, from pains to joys, all-
reaching, from solitary into community, supporting,
learning...expressive, in wonder, hoping to know
the sounding rise of the Voice within, and ever
thankful for a promise of a flight on eagle’s wings.
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(c)sally Young eslinger 2/5/2021
Thanks be to God and to PoetrySoup, all of you
I love to sit under a tree
And smile as songbird sings,
He cocks his head and stares at me
And drops white slimy things.
And now behold, the leaves above
Reflect a change of season
A touch of brown, a flare of red
A dripping, sappy lesion.
Migrating robins from the north,
Their song too sweet for words,
Awake my soul; my heart calls forth,
“Shut up, you idiot birds!”
My eyes are like a dried up sponge
And soak in scenes of nature,
The tree, the brook, the winding road,
Some dead, runover creature.
And with my love, in peaceful bliss
As frequently I am
She shares with me in one sweet kiss
Her life, her soul, her phlegm.
And in a flash of brilliant truth
When fireflies start to dance,
I relive golden days of youth
(And promptly wet my pants).
Happy April Fool's Day, everybody!
Wrote this in college the night before a final
when I should have been studying...
Pastures lush and green,
Horses resting near the pond,
All the land at peace.
Beautiful Scenes, Night Their True Love Was Born,
two of three
Sublime ...
Love's sweetest bliss,
Whispers tender and sweet
Moanings, pleasures, ecstasy's touch
Sublime.
Moon had its most bountiful gold-glows cast
filtering through tall oak trees onto earth
they in love that truly forever lasts
cared not for fame nor for world's greedy worth.
Romance demands they stay together here
allowing life and joy to penetrate
with the power of joined strength face their fears
and embrace the beauty of Loving fate.
He saw into her gleaming bright blue eyes
moonbeams of ardor's deep radiant glow
she saw in his face, love that never dies
as each yielded to love's tidal tow.
As night's moon and love's hands joined, so did they.
Into loving arms until break of day.
Passion ...
Love and kisses
Feelings heart wants and needs
Vows, he for her and she for he
Passion.
Robert J. Lindley, 10-06-2020
Cinquain, Sonnet, Cinquain
(CSC)... two of three
Stage is set
Participants in place
A wolf moon smiles
Bright stars palpitate
Roses in a garden
Lovers sitting on a bench
Hand sending messages
Lips kissing to undress
Bodies on fire
Temperature’s hot
A voice sweetly caressing
Baby don’t stop
Owl hoots Whoo Whoo
Squirrel’s a little bit shy
Scenes of Spring magic
On the screens of our lives
In the midst of my sweet childhood days
I came across a gorgeous machine.
It was known by different names
But I called it my time machine.
A big roar, heard in the beginning
When I watchfully switched it to life.
I was in the middle of a battle
Fought around a century ago.
People, people running all around
Fighting without a reason I know.
Roars of victory and screams in fear
I failed to grasp their different tongue.
Back of horses, on the elephants
They fought a battle unlike to me.
Scenes of horror and bloodshed I saw
Closing my eyes I pressed the button.
Quiet different scenes I opened
In a beautiful well-furnished room
Witnessing an intense private scene
The meaning I couldn't comprehend.
It was surely in someone’s bedroom
Possibly a newly wedded one
Doing in light, should be in the dark
I changed the scene pressing the button.
Different images flashes in front
Again fallen to a battle field
Alien I was and alien it is
People around and the way they fight.
It was in a different planet
Rounding around a bright little star.
They are different and their weapons
Even the light different from us.
Then I decided to check the options
Of this marvelous magic machine.
It can crop centuries to an hour
And can extend an hour to a year.
It takes you to places in a blink
Even to somewhere outside the earth
To the new cities, towns or villages
And the deepest forest or the sea.
While I was admiring the machine
A clear loud rumble came from my back.
Not from the machine sitting in front
It was from the real world where I live.
‘Switch of the TV, go to your room
To complete the homework, remaining’
My father is strict and to be obeyed
But I will come back, dear time machine!
Honorable Mention in STRAND SPECIAL 7 ,any form ,any theme Poetry Contest sponsored by Brian Strand
Patches of snow sprinkled on the leaves
Lay on the hill climbed many times
And I wonder how many scenes
Have been kept safely in memory
Through seasons of visions and thoughts
Whether it be with chill or with warmth
Bare trees revealing the sky’s beauty
Opening up the distant views
Or trees in full bloom with close up color
Later fallen like paper under the snow
In rotation of scenes captured
On the hill that has quietly frozen
As if sleeping, waiting to be seen and heard
In the slow dripping, melting of spring
In this wonder of momentary silence
Except for the crackling of leaves,
I remember in a cold breath of fresh air
How winter begins, on the hill
Heidi Sands
11/18/17
Moonlight scenes appear
upon my soulful eyes I
watch the beauty rise
right before my eyes
my heart seems to soar with love
when we're holding hands.
(*********************************)
Beautiful Scenes, Golden Gifts True Love Brought,
third poem of three.
True-love ...
Depths that heart swells,
longings that birth hot flames
night-gems, true eternal treasures
True-love.
With desires born, heart wedding sweet love dreams
songs, a most eager spirit dares sing,
heart swelled so near to bursting at its seams
gems of life's most precious of renderings.
The beauty of true heart, its greatest song
scenes of gasping nights and her hottest kiss,
love with joyous fervor that brought along
sensual heat and most heavenly bliss.
She that beauty's sharpest eyes sets apart
a rare gift that mortal longing desires,
for nothing greater rewards seeking heart
and nothing on earth lights hotter fires.
Goddess, both rejoicing in love-born fires.
United by love that never expires.
Soft-touch ...
kiss that invites
concupiscence, and more
nights, hot waves of raging desires
Soft-touch.
Robert J. Lindley, 10-10-2020
Cinquain, Sonnet, Cinquain
(CSC)... three of three
Final poem in series
Syllables per line:
0 2 4 6 8 2
0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
0 2 4 6 8 2
Total number of syllables:184
Total number of words:128
When the sun has not yet reached its zenith,
this man I know
prefers to show the world he sees
depicting it when trees first don
their leafy garments.
He dips his brush into viridescent hues.
Strokes of emerald play upon his canvas
as the world waking up from dreariness
he lovingly and graciously portrays.
Gemstone dots of peridot and shades of jade
dance across his canvas,
bringing life to pastoral scenes of
landscapes of farmland
and of meadows.
Oh, what joy he takes in creating scenes
of life when it's again reborn.
Man's decibels is now mute,
The nature's music is to float,
The living souls have attained the tranquil state,
The worries and frustrations now combat,
The lamp of night has lit the light...
Oh! the view is a beautiful sight !!
The sky and the sea look alike,
As the vehement waves strike!
The pollution levels are low,
It's a calm and cool Earth now!
Stars have formed the clusters so tight,
The constellations look so bright!
This world is indeed a beautiful place,
So let's forget the race,
Attain our dreams with grace!!!
** SCENES FROM HOME **
The curtain wafts on an open-window’s breezing air, like liquid
Blue in the room, bringing beauty with magic’s tracing
The woman with her still raining, trickling water-streams
Over her calf as she lifts her leg out of the bath
Above the call, “Daughter!” to the girl running outside, her
Tresses and turquoise skirt flying up in a lunging wind
As a red squirrel leaps onto a chipping-painted windowsill
To dig all through a neglected flowerbox, while he’s squawked at
By a blackbird, bowing over her nest, keeping watch
Nearby where there emanates the enchanting sound of piano
Nocturnes that the son (in rolled-up shirtsleeves) nicely plays
While a ping-pong ball rolling, clacks across the cellar floor,
Beguilling the cat into a frenzied attempt to seize her prey
At the hallway’s end, Grandma asks a mirror about her appearance.
“Is there a flower fairy to bring a blooming loveliness to my age?”
Mirror, ready to answer, “Just look! Radiance grows inside every day.”
But, the answer on-coming, found Grandma, chin-on-hand, fast asleep.
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(c) sally young eslinger 7/14-15/2023
Thanks be to God—-
THREE OUTDOOR SCENES
frog pond mallards
on the grassy, shallow bank
watching reflections
table with peanuts
round and round the tree he goes
caw, caw cries high crow
reading by the sea
this boy sitting on a rock
gull catches the breeze
Dave Austin
Somehow a scene from girlhood days
Will flit across my hazy mind;
To lead me down enchanting ways
I thought I had once left behind
Of Grandma's touch… so sweet and kind.
Her garden floats on dappled stream
Where trees callow burst into leaf,
Our hands gather the blooms, agleam
Which paint a view though spring turns brief--
Yet in my heart… I find relief.
English Quintain Contest
Sponsor: Janice Canerdy
Re-submitted 7/19/2017
i closed my eyes
and heres what i saw:
a horse being burned
by other horses
they all had the same owner
they all lived in the same place
but the burning horse was different
or as the others called him:
odd and EVIL
i opened my eyes
as i sat in the pew next to you
i covered my ears
and heres what i heard:
seven voices singing in unison
six of them were VILE
they cursed
and swore their blasphemous lips until they bled
and the last one
was so beautiful
it killed me
i started to listen
and realized today was your weekly Christian day
i closed my mouth
and heres what i tasted:
this sweet poison
intoxicating me
it seemed so perfect
(it wore a VEIL)
so i married it and consumed it
i felt fine at first
but the poison did me in
it burned and tore my flesh slowly
all because i chose the wrong goblet
i vomited
and never went to you again
i closed my heart to you
and this is how i died:
i emptied my soul
into your bloody rivers
i demolished myself
and made me you
i shredded my heart
so you could repair it
i died in their church
so you could show them
that you never told us to die
but:
''because of my son, you LIVE"
and there my story ends
and you have no part in it
evil, vile, veil, and live
are all spelled the same
(when coming from your pen)
but you are not the author
nor editor of my life
you are but a simple match
striking yourself upon me
with the hope to consume me in YOUR flame
just so you can feel better about yourself
feel better about you
feel better
please...