Best Seclusions Poems
Your honey drips in baths of blue,
with seductive scapes set to woo,
Arousing aroma stimuli arise anew,
A vixen voluptuous Venus to subdue…
Mane of a lioness suave and soft,
provocative perspiration sent aloft…
With erotic eyes that capture oft,
sensuous seclusions within her loft…
With lips that taste like wicked wine,
quixotic quenching of the venom vine…
Bodacious breasts in their combine,
permeable performance will entwine…
The Orbs of passion ambiently attend,
risqué rituals of a burning biting blend...
Carnal kisses upon a salacious suspend,
gravitational goosebumps will ascend.
Nov.09.2019
Goosebumps Poetry
Sponsored by: Delilah Ventura
Placed 3'rd...Plus POTW...Thank You
Rainbow roses revived
Rainbow rains rising
Rising of ruby rituals
Rising from heartbeat of lies
Lies with opal wings
Lies betray every crown
Crown of the spiritual realm
Crown of a forbidden Queen
Queen reigning with clemency
Queen who thrones destiny
Destiny is an inkless rhyme
Destiny is a slave of time
Time weaves a vault of woes
Time is an eclipse of fingers
Fingers tied in inflicted foes
Fingers script sagas untold
Sagas immortal
Sagas unfurling a sanctuary
Sanctuary of secrecy
Sanctuary of forlorn mists
Mists float in lunar memories
Mists I breathe
Breathe in hope
Breathe in mystery
Mystery hides in midnight
Mystery of masked twilight
Twilight voices silence
Twilight swinging on tears
Tears of honeysuckle sun
Tears homing fears
Fears of illusions
Fears forge fatal seclusions
Seclusion of fertile faith
Seclusion of lachrymose lilies
Lilies lethally fragrant
Lilies bloom in death
Death rebirths a phoenix
Death is a wizard
Wizard of resilience
Wizard of soul
Soul is untamable
Soul is a swan of liberty
Liberty of love
Liberty of heart
Heart sings in passion
Heart is a daisy dove,
Dove echoing an empyrean legacy
Dove admiring the cherry moon
Moon...
Legacy...
In the aura of love my heart hinders,
All that is left is my strength of sorrow,
Where livid lamenting turns to cinders…
Veneration embracing the morrow.
Like a weeping willow my tears cascade,
Over ten thousand years will come to pass…
My thoughts of you slowly fearfully fade,
Only the strength of sorrows keep their mass.
Incidental idyllic illusions,
Falling upon my magniloquent mind…
Amidst woeful weakness of seclusions,
Stagnant statues of sorrows left behind.
Within a state of submissive supine,
An empath of love where sorrows confine.
Strength of Sorrow…Theme
10 Syllables per line
July.26.2019
17 is the Lucky Number -
Rhyme Poetry
Sponsored by: Lu Loo
Background music by...
Two Steps From Hell
'Heart of Courage'
Thomas Bergersen
Invincible 2010
With male virtual voice
Placed 1'st...Thank You
dreaming messmerized hypnotised
idealized illusions.
imagination illumination sophistication
idealistic determination.
sadistic seduction illogical distruction.
delusion seclusions confusions intrusion.
insignificant insecure isolations instigations.
deceptive demeanor defective delight
fury rage scorned fight
In endless quest we sought seclusions peace
hiding in the mystery of a strength always thought weak
and so denied the hero the still of death’s parade
waved surrender’s handkerchiefs to fill his empty grave
relied upon the charity of victory’s feeble thrill
struggling to rise above fresh bloodied horror’s sound.
Relentlessly the ears decry the loneliness of empty sound
as furtive eyes no future seek in fear of war, in fear of peace,
the agony of their disgrace, the joy of living without thrill
they know they’re strong, they know they’re weak
for somehow evading battles grave
to march in fiction’s harsh parade.
Solemnly on hush of wind, wars ghosts, in shadow on parade
march to history’s retold lies, leave no footprints, make no sound
for they will not resign their fate to earthen shell of shallow grave
nor will they let it slip behind the fragile wall of unearned peace
returning to a world in which we are perceived as weak
malign them with contrived disdain, condemn their sacrifice as thrill.
Podiums will hail the cause, cheering crowds create a thrill,
rolling drums will precede taps, politicians will parade,
orators with fiery words that make us neither strong nor weak
echoing across dead ears jaundiced by the painful sound
of promises that never are the troubadours of peace
and fall, as soldiers fall, alone upon a grave.
Newsmen mumble, double talk, of situations grave
amusement parks entice us with a death defying thrill
fire crackers, waving flags, noise to celebrate a peace
heads will bow when passing by war’s endless parade
the young will even shed a tear at taps lamenting sound
grit their teeth and know that honor’s tears don’t make us weak.
For freedom is the resting place for the bravest of the weak
who stand in freedom’s honor when the threat is grave
and rally to defend her, to keep her promise sound
not seeking to be heroes, nor the deception of war’s thrill
just honoring the memory of those still on parade
knowing there’s no solace in seclusions peace.
At heart we know that all are weak, that war is not a thrill
that those who fill the graves are shadow soldiers on parade
that the melancholy trumpet sound is the exhaled breath of peace.
John G. Lawless
©6/19/2014
Inspired by Opeth – The Drapery Falls and this entire year…
I sip on Super Mario Brothers hot cocoa cup
Filled with convictions’ drop
From streams of consciousness
Ready to skinny dip into a new plateau
No
Holds
Barred
Ferocity’s grip
Looking upon God’s yesterdays
As He hands me a pen
Asking me what I have learned
…
As days have passed
I slow dance with convex mirrors within glasshouse.
Remedies to my confusion
Thrusting me back to the day
A befriending of cotton candy souls
As we ride against Ferris Wheels with a song
That should never end
Holding hands through rickety roller coasters
Pulling me downwards
Upwards
Parallel to perpendicular resolutions
The square root to pale ghosts
Staring with onyx want
All of their tainted wishes
Were for brighter days
…
As these days pass
I recollect collective smile upon my spiraled breaths.
There should have been more.
There could have been more.
It’s not too late for early newcomers into my atrium.
But, you better have your ticket in hand.
For I have already tasted the scalding broth of disappointing screams
Overpowered in salted dramatics
Please
Just come as you are
Unfiltered
No plastic surgeries are welcome within these heartbeats.
…
As days go by
I continue to dream of tomorrow’s smile
Placing loudspeakers against silenced seclusions
With ONE MIC
I hail to cathedral sanity
Swimming within my stream of consciousness that few can dive into
Without turning their backs
…
As tomorrow approaches
Who will be the spark in our cherry bombs?
To light jeweled, nocturnal ionospheres within breaths of security
And sincerity coated fingertips
Who I ask?
Speak loud!!!
Speak in unbridled frequencies!!!
Don’t wait for another day to go by…
...without me waking up to your sound again.
©Drake J. Eszes
It is better to have loved
and lost
than to never have loved at all - - - - -
You then get to taste
the full spectrum of emotions
that define us
as human beings.
The highs of being in love
to depths of breakup
Joys of companionship to
reflections of loneliness
Exhilarations of a relationship
envelope mildest hours,
trespass upon sanctities
of heartiest seclusions
dripping by lackluster
innuendos perplexed within
tripping feelings surpassed
by joys of indulgences
tempered with illuminations
of times past.
17 July 2010
When we see the world is getting uglier as it goes
We tried to make it happy because that’s where we belong
We just follow the open air and to where it will close
The truth is, we want to create our own world in headstrong
We are tied to our past and never loosen
And among the many seclusions, it keeps coming back
Sad and happy moments replayed as often
Tears and smile accompanied our luck
Until someone came and makes your world beautiful
Makes the night with stars shining even in the gloomy sky
Makes every lazy and busy day be grateful
That is why we can say it is possible if someone will lead us to try
Life has many ups and downs and the test begins unknowingly
We may lose or victory to come our way, but the place in the middle is best
We are halfway to falling down and halfway of reaching dreams glowingly
We disavow our existence but think of handicapped and their stresses
The things that bother us now are just small stuff that we can let go
Life is just a borrowed clothes and soon to be hanging when not in use
Glory to God that we are given a chance to live for a while at apropos
What is left for us is to make the most of what we think is right to choose
Syncopated Soul
Voices of reason transfixed by treason, a heart murmurs in the cold
Echoes of depletion of a heart in lesion, a face in the mirror gets old
The love escaped and ravenously raped, a tired tear turns to mold
Where darkness dwells and sorrow swells, walking with a blindfold
Life a drowning drain of a punitive pain, a wailful lost in a whirlpool
With a destiny in detain a sacrificial stain, a transposable trivial tool
Shadows of silence in deific defiance, a master and his menial mule
Where winds are rampant and emotions fragment, a cunning cruel
I’ve always known and often shown, existence of a fermented futile
As I stand alone a despondent drone, spewing words a crying crucial
Idol illusions of seditious seclusions, my thoughts begin to be fruitful
Standing at the edge of time a new paradigm, a poetic pensive pupil.
Music by Sinamore~'Frozen Mile'
Sept.11.2018
Second Chance for the Unloved Poem
Sponsored by: Jesse Rowe
N/A for contest
In every weary word, there is a selfish storm,
Within a blinding blurred of a formless form…
Thoughts are lost amidst the negligent nights,
Tongues are tossed upon blasphemous bites.
Cloudy confusion arises from its sacrificial still,
As the able abeyant advises the wandering will…
The silence surrenders to the drowning deluge,
For the rain remembers to release in its refuge.
Where the idealized illusions come out to play,
The stigmatic seclusions dormant in disarray…
Whirl winding whispers decay in the distance,
Amongst tangled twisters of raging resistance.
Nov.19.2019
Disarray Poetry
Sponsored by: Nina Parmenter
N/A for contest
Abandoned realities that the Kings have sought,
Biological bacillus organisms left to rapidly rot…
Absorbefacient annihilation the pawns have brought,
The bacterium Bishops are pernicious in their plot…
Ambient affliction plagues the progressive parasites,
Of the nuclear noxious nomads reaching hellion heights…
Agents of abrogation numbing the nefarious nights,
Euthanized eradications amidst the landscape lights…
The King's command contaminations in their control,
As the Queens seduce seclusions upon their scroll…
Panic in the pandemic for no one is left to stroll,
Catastrophic consumption within the havocking hole…
Syndrome soldiers segregate indisposition of infirmity,
For the wolf lies down with the lamb in symptoms sordidly…
The sheep that surround and move about accordingly,
Incoherent innocent inoculates of distraught diversity.
((((( Check Mate )))))
...my heart, thoughts & prayers go out to all affected by the Virus~god bless...
March.13.2020
Coronavirus COVID-19
Sponsored By TeamPoertySoup
N/A for contest
Contest Judged:5/12/2020 8:33:00 AM
Re-entered June.16.2020
N-A re-run 8
Sponsored by~John Hamilton
Placed 3'rd...Thank You
Terminal velocity maximum thrill, always falling against my will,
Acceleration gives me a chill, supersonic speed but standing still…
Falling in love with just one look, my romantic desires by the brook,
An exotic escapade by the book, lavish lavender skies is all it took…
Falling into Oblivion beyond my control, lamenting life takes its toll,
Landing in a diminishing dust bowl, the decreasing of my silent soul…
Realities that mirror illusions, amidst fast binding fraudulent fusions,
Increasing speeds of idol inclusions, I’m sinking into secular seclusions…
Falling in dreams wide awake, viewing scenes as they slide and shake,
Jump into my mind and see it ache, fall into my heart and see it break…
Fast falling into the unknown, reaching now where the wind has blown,
I am the King who has lost his thrown, forever falling finite on my own.
May.27.2020
Falling Poetry
Sponsored by
Kai Michael Neumann
N/A for contest
While the agreeable bond we venture in,
teams with influential speculates',
its treasure is the sacred vow of worth
that yours is, and forever will be;
In accordance with this lively outcome
A generous and jovial ascertain hovers,
the electrifying paranormals you bring
lead splendid aphrodisiacs to my soul.
They benefit internally, pleading parts
that nether regions claim are lesser whole.
Uniting more than life itself can give,
The subtefuge, or lack of it prepares
A dream from stark dementias, only one,
That I ever need to care about has won.
How martyrdom initiates response,
freedom that surrounds existing vibes
our understanding feeds on nonchalance
providing us a love no-one describes.
It sequels in seclusions open stanza,
A free verse masquerade of plentitude
that love shall follow this extravaganza
making waves the motions now include.
How buoyancy defines the dance for us
with surface tension beautifying grace
movements which are spiritual are thus
complete as souls enamoured in embrace.
Song of the mystic whaler
Come on board to play and work
come on board to learn to sing and praise the mystic whaler
sailing on the mighty Hudson
Come sing the mystic whaler
hoist the ropes rig the lines climb her wooden masts
ready to sail upon the mystic whaler
the winding turns through narrow straights and vibrant winds
her sails are free to climb
she brings hope and changes lives
The Clearwater sails the tides
A living classroom that breathes from life in the autumns of young lives
come hear the children laughing the voices singing
and people learning from nature’s way about the river and how to keep
It clean. Come learn the history of the majestic Hudson
Come feel the wind upon your back as you lift her mighty sails
to hear the bowing creak to walk the masts and touch the stern
And walk her wooden decks
Breathe a fragrance from its shores that lights the spark from nature and fires the teaching they require
Look yonder at the marshes plants in their estuaries at birds nesting by the
Somber shores
Upon the banks grasses gently swaying
Light of being in its living
Shadows cast on golden dawns passing by along the tide where the crickets lie
Jetted rocks with Cyprus trees lean to reach the sky
Voices of gulls to the right flying low to the tide
Sun is rising the sun is setting upon the fishing nets
Once when the river was dying of DDT pcbs and of sewer rot
Now is clean and living free thanks to a concerning lot
The beautiful Hudson River shapes the stillness and flowers of the day
The falling leaf on windblown tides
Small towns where beacons lit the harbor on its winding curves
Subtle seclusions and of its singing birds
Where stars unite and bring delight
Come ride the mystic whaler
Can there be no perils at the gate
Or, are we not men of fate.
Can our eyes not shut-
Without the alarm of being lost.
Have we not fed from a plate
Or, drunk from a crate.
Have we not had the day together
Or, watch the night for another.
Did we not know our distinct philosophies,
And yet tell common stories.
Did we not sweat for our diverse ideas,
And still smile on common grounds.
Did we not vent our spleen-
For the ***** snow that leaves our homes unclean.
But, did we still not see to its end-
With our undying blend
Why the unkind treats,
The braconid feats,
The stew seclusions,
And even parasitic-ending of our owns
Have we not had this place-
To our own base.
Had we not been-
To oversee every being.
Are we no more peoples-
That had the grounds by ripples.
Have we not sewn up enough of our own
To leave bereft more of our grown
Can we not be without differences
Or, see without challenges.
Can we not lend hands-
To build and refill our sober lands.
Can we not shake hands,
And spend nights in each others abodes.