Best Scripting Poems
How earnestly, dear, you enchant my dream
Blooming heart’s wishes in amorous theme
Lifting me to your realm of astral mysteries
Buoying my longings on wings of your spirits
Rowing leisurely to paradise of ethereal bliss,
Surfing azure winds, navigating stellar seas.
Traversing through empire of eternal revelry,
Dazzling me with allure of inflamed intimacy
You lured me to magical palace of fantasy,
Way beyond kingdom of nebulae, galaxies,
Through reign of Venus~ the goddess of beauty,
And mythical territory of monarchy moonlit.
Mesmerizing dawn, scripting tale of romance,
You touched my soul, conquering my heart,
As purple tints engraved arc of ebullient morn
Honoring love, when hastily you were gone,
Leaving behind memories, wallowing in awe,
Of your passion esoteric, blazing on and on.
February 11, 2023
Placed 7th: Wave of Fantasy Premium Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
O, take me there, where mystical realms of starlight glisten
Pearlescent tapestries, indulgent in ethereal aura of Venus,
Emboldening me in celestial embrace, swept in your love,
As you ignite embers of passion, setting afire ardent souls;
When elatedly I speak, to quest amorous, of flirtatious eyes,
Greeting your smile, charmed in radiance of moonlit skies,
Humming rhythms esoteric, not heard, in quite some time,
Laudatory of fervid senses, blooming in tempest of desires.
There, as you recite preamble to our life, extolling paradise,
Together we rejoice, purity of joy, in blessings of Aphrodite,
Longing heavenly garden of Eden, themes amatory entice,
Scripting blissful allegory of love, verses enamored write.
Listen my dear, as love strums music, lauding a sacred bond~
O, sweet melodies, emanating from depths of our hearts,
Echoing memories of yesteryears, fondly treasured for long,
Tolling hymns affectionate, revered in life’s beloved song.
Thrum now dear, tunes intimate, hearts and minds surmise,
Exploring Milky Way, amidst purple dream-scapes of nebulae;
Take me to mythical gift of life, lascivious in moon’s delight,
O, take me to Xanadu, where love is the life’s ultimate prize.
Metaphors and similes exude when scripting poetic verse.
Across pale parchment, the poet's pen continues to traverse.
Ink courses like life blood, rushing through his eddied veins
as he ignores cramped fingers while writing echoing refrains.
Each stanza arranged by sequence in the creation of a story.
Sometimes his mysterious muse dances wildly with allegory.
He reins her in when he is focused but totally oblivious of time.
With vivid imagination, he sits penning in consummate rhyme.
Thoughts drift like flurries of snowflakes; his passion ignites
as each completed verse lifts his wizardry to greater heights.
In epic form he wanders within a level of verbose amplitude,
composing lyrical sonnets when creating a romantic interlude.
He indites with skill and talent of an accomplished musician,
striving to compose a magnum opus, a worthy composition.
If by chance his poetry is interpreted with eyes of admiration
he'll credit his gypsy muse for offering amorous inspiration.
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree—
A belle crooning nature’s glee,
Splendorous as seasons’ glory.
A ballad of resplendent spring
In stanzas cherry-blossom pink
Uplifting moods of lovers
Lost in heart-shaped leaves
Fluttering soft lavender breeze
Arousing romantic appeal
In fuchsia hues of redbud trees.
A verse of feisty summer winds
Swaying beats of majestic oak
Rustling big-leaf maple trees
Hosting dance of perky sparrows
Choreographing mating tempo--
Magnolia’s white blooms evoke.
A lyric of autumn’s aspirations
Scripting chorus in blazing colors,
Red, orange, purple, yellow,
On maple, hickory, birch, sycamore,
Strumming strings of alluring refrains--
Rhythms waltzing fervid meadows.
A cadent song of winter’s chill
Shuddering vibes of barren trees
Yet, charmingly pretty as can be
When snowflakes gently falling
Invoke tunes of season’s greetings
Crowning tips of ornamental twigs
As hearts’ melodies merrily sing.
February 7, 2020
Placed 1st: Famous poetic lines 2 poetry contest
Sponsor: Silent One
“I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree” by Joyce Kilmer
HM: Strand select H contest by Brian Strand
Stars were twinkling high, glinting moonlit sky,
As missives of love on scarlet winds buoyed
Indulging passionate desires, enamoring pleas
Of elated longings, strumming pulse of glee,
Spurring romance, blooming heart’s dream,
As you arrived cheering fervid night of spring.
Oh, how I missed a beat, lauding your beauty,
When you enticed me, smiling affectionately,
Alluring with a glance that dazzled in promise
Of our magical evening enchanting, esoteric,
As together we propelled to world of fantasy
Beyond realm ordinary, scripting fabled story.
Alas! as we approached a paradise heavenly,
How playfully you blew a kiss, abandoning me,
On auriferous cul-de-sac of forbidden street
When you entered a glittering palace for fairies;
Leaving me in awe of a world ornate, unique,
A land of mythical vitality, of utopian ecstasy.
Beyond hope, beyond reach, as you vanished,
No path I could see past the forbidden street,
Trapping me where I idolized your heartbeats;
Perplexed, yet cognizant, here I would rather be,
Hypnotized in your reality of a flirtatious night,
Exploring reveries beyond cul-de-sac of my life.
February 21, 2023
Placed 1st: This or That, Vol 16 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
As the chandelier dances with lustrous light.
Eras of still slumber awoken...from fluid dreams,
...in the depths of her confines...hibernating..
..fermenting her taste...timeless beauty.
Legends of vineyards past...uncorked.
Poured into existence by a charming present sommelier..
The bubbling prelude enters...a smoke filled scene.
Her sparkling silhouette...emerges on a silver platter.
...of her bottled mystery of decades past.
Penning the inception of empty chapters of glass...
..with her sweet tasting presence...
...nervously sweating condensation.
Fulfilling the myths of bottled beauty of life’s unknowns.
Overflowing the pages...in liquid stanzas
...of dazzling passion.
Her legacy manifests...scripting an ardent saga,
Staining the aura of pleasant reality.
Shining elegantly...while striding across marble floors.
Echoing...soft chronicles of champagne light.
Love, a crimson...virgin berry...plucked from vineyards afar..
...bottled for aging beauty...filled to the capacity of his clear figure..
While passionately...embraced by his fragileness of crystal arms.
...in the ballad of wine and glass.
Oh nightingale,
you rise like a small anointing in the dusk,
your voice a trilling psalm of love and lament.
You carry the mystique of prayer on your wings,
a feathered liturgy drifting toward the listening sky.
Oh nightingale,
you sing from the chalice of stillness where God whispers,
your syrinx a cipher of creation teaching silence to awaken.
You carry ancient wisdom in your throat,
a feathered oracle scripting prophecy on the wind.
Oh, mythical fairy, how bashfully you woo me tonight
Attuning love’s lyrics to music of the passionate night
Alluring astral delight, the moon and stars you invite
Dazzling passions emanating from your enticing eyes
Twinkling celestial heights in scintillating smitten skies
Seducing tenor of fiery night, as sparks of love ignite
Inflaming sensuous hearts under opulent moonlight
As the lady of mystique embraces her beloved knight.
Whirling rhythms of my tempo in glamorous dance
My desires you waltz beaming glances of romance
Hypnotizing me brazenly in clutches of exotic stance
Arousing flirtatious entreaties clamoring to conceive
Tantalizing sensibilities yearnings of bosoms weave
In forbidden web of transgressions, longing to unseal
Secrets of fantasy world, titillating your occult zeal,
As essence of love’s enigma surrenders to my appeal.
Savor my dear, elixir of life, before it’s time to depart
Painting portrait of this union on canvas of my heart
Narrating love poetically, reminiscent of Rumi’s glory
Adorning fable-eternal, scripting rhapsodic allegory
Beholden to doting night, unwilling to meet the dawn,
As echoes of our heart-bells endlessly toll on and on
Urging for this dream to live on, stilling reign of time,
Cuddling pleasures divine, satiating fantasies sublime.
September 24, 2020
Placed 2nd: The night of passion and desire poetry contest
Sponsor: Faraz Ajmal
Leaves of Lilith, fall like butterflies
as I slither in souls, secluded by time ~
where treacherous tulips still mourn the death of magnolia moon,
hidden within scentless sepals, which couldn't be their evergreen anchor...
Hear the echoes of grieving dawn,
whose tamed scars forgot to unfurl my truths beyond memories ~
scripting me like misplaced intuition, surfing on those whispering waves,
for I've always blossomed upon heartaches, in gardens of metaphors ~
hibernating as the turmeric taste of melting sun...
I'm the untouched ink of sin ~
swirling across silver patience ebbing along the starlit peacock-golds,
where daffodil dryads throb in ancient dyes and I'm caramelised...
above sonnets soaked in skeletal promises,
my reason rests within wisdom, an ageless mirage...
Metaphors and similes flow freely from my pen
when I am scripting and scribing in poetic verse.
Across the width of pale parchment pages
the nib of my feathered pen continues to traverse.
Ink courses fathoms deep within me like life blood,
rushing through the eddied channels of my veins.
I struggle to ignore the cramping in my fingers.
There's no hesitation when writing echoing refrains
when I imprison myself in poetry.
Each stanza I carefully arrange in proper sequence
as if it's a bairn born for the creation of my story.
Sometimes my gypsy muse joins me in the dance
when I write with abandonment in wild allegory.
I never try to rein her in when we're both focused
and driven to complete a poem, oblivious of time.
With vivid imagination, romantic sonnets are birthed
as I sit penning line after line in consummate rhyme,
incarcerated at my desk until I've written the last line.
My thoughts tumble like flurries of pristine snowflakes.
With a single spark of romance my passion ignites
as each completed verse falls perfectly into place, it lifts
my need to write compositions of love to greater heights.
Day and night, I find myself a wanderer, lost in reveries
where I journey in a private kingdom of verbose amplitude.
Around each curve in the road is a new challenge to be met,
and yet, none thwart me when trysting in romantic interlude.
Rude would be the one who would disturb me
when I'm handcuffed to a work in progress.
I try to indite with some semblance, dare I call it skill or talent?
By no means am I an accomplished laureate by my admission.
As a mere poet, I do not strive to compose a magnum opus,
but a meaningful collection of verses as a worthy composition.
If by chance, my poetry is interpreted and appreciated by some
who view my emotional imagery with soulful eyes of admiration,
I will credit my gypsy muse with her conspiratorial whispers
and amorous experiences as the impetus for my inspiration.
I hold the key to unlock my self-inflicted prison door,
and used when at last my pen has been laid to rest.
I feared to reach for the ambrosial drift
of ambergris floating
through turquoise tides
beneath the rising sun ~
reluctant to relish the resilience
of nascent nova,
as if every ray
of light held
blackness of uncertainties,
yet I’ve learned to
heal beneath the searing
heat of hypocrisy ~
I glow on, no longer obscured
by their oblivious observation
of my orbit,
for I am a morning star
unceasingly sparkling
across dusky horizons,
loving, living ~ breathing,
dreaming,
in love
with the calm
of crystal-clear currents,
and the crescendo
of poetic collisions,
for this heart unlocks gateways
to the abyss of sea-salt silence,
allowing dawn to caress
the corners of my suppressed fears ~
as the eclipsed cannot
dim the pulse of painted patience
with butterfly strokes…
I am a windward wanderer
stirring among
life’s whimsical waves,
as the sky spills
caramel clusters
over celestial cerulean,
and my soul unfurls
like an odyssey
kissed by the divine flame,
scripting
deep warm hues of blue ~
colors of fate,
only you and I can reveal,
for we are both
brushed with oil,
lost in the
serene palette of siren secrets…
and life ~
O soul feeler,
this existence is a sail
we voyage through
sighing stillness
and soaring sapphires
cradling simple blessings
that nature gifts us
wrapped in unwavering faith ~
Benign Bliss Burn
A gentle mist of divine origin
osmotically pierces body-mind,
rapturous caress, each nuance virgin,
releasing erst fears and desires that bind.
We invite grace invoking magnetism,
innate, aglow and pulsating within;
rainbow in full view, in our body prism,
throbbing with bliss and playing on our skin.
As living light, crystallised within form,
soul's attributes burst forth in full glory,
manifesting thus, a benign bliss storm,
scripting our earth life's beautiful story.
The flame of love ignites mind-body urn ~
As bliss engulfs us, we willingly burn
16-October-2022
He calls me "son"
come here, lets learn
it's easy, you can earn
I will teach you all I can
life is easy, it's fun
all you need is a span
of ecstasy and swan
I got a poke
on Facebook, it's a joke
seems to choke
it's serious, it's a mock
but I still rock
you are free to stalk
I just need no talk
am not stupid am fine
come, let's dine
I don't do wine
it's just in line
with my principles, they are mine
you seem so foolish
it's out of hand, it's prudish
you need to polish;
out the sissy and sheepish
character; you are childish
sir I got no chance
tell me about renaissance
all you need is a lance
if irritated, vamoose to France
there, you will have no glance
of this silly Brance
for your sake, am brilliant for once
blueprints on freelance
check out, you got chance
I want to be happy, I really am
what's behind my pen, my right arm
scripting down lines that keep me calm
all for the sake of being firm
I got no issues, I don't harm
something destroys me, I let it sting
putting my emotions to swing
going about like a ring
sorrow hits, it grows
it's too much, no one knows
if you are keen, it shows
pain oozing out of my pores
it's life, it's a course
all I do is hold on of course
enough for now, it's rare
I will buy you lunch, I care
only if you swear
to live your life, and don't dare
bring this topic to air
Outside my window life moves slow…
But inside the glass a different show…
Past the frame a blue sky kisses the trees…
Behind the curtain a poet’s pen bleeds…
Scripting nature from beyond my room…
Where the lamp is my sun and the voices my tune…
The shade pulls down as the horizon takes the day…
Shadows fill the spaces into tomorrow’s yesterday…
What’s left on paper is for you to perceive…
Behind the words I once conceived…
I sit behind the computer
scripting the daily lesson plan,
while hoping there’s no intruder,
of them I’m not an eager fan.
A guest speaker comes to impart
something in boring monotone.
I hope he imparts something smart
or I’ll be reading on my phone.
A meeting scheduled noon today
is for, I’m not sure what or why!
The dull message makes my mind stray;
for this once, I wish time would fly!
My pencils are sharpened just so.
The computer is securely encoded.
My thoughts are ready to outflow
and my brain is close to imploded.
My nails are done; my hair is styled;
new shoes I bought last month, or week.
Addled from the hard push so wild,
the harried week seems rather bleak.
All tasks done as guideline bids.
Today is our convocation.
I don’t know about all the kids,
But I need a long vacation!