Best Seizes Poems
The widow among roses,
though a scent so sweet
she smells to near smile,
how red the vibrance of life
and soft the petals caress
her lonely cheek,
she remembers her love lost
(her left eye a tombstone glass)
and seizes not to yearn it back ---
The Blacklady among crimson;
her desert rains evermore night and day,
and still the dunes of her heart soak not with love,
the arrid wind still shoots the sand
through her wasteland unbetrothed,
where the sun never rises,
nor never beautifully it sets
through her tombstone eye
She walks the night dressed in white,
her wedding gown a sight for ghosts
and phantoms do fright;
they cannot haunt ---
this foot-in-the-grave-soul,
glowing white-red howling at the moon
To true midnite her feet carries her so,
where the river rushes reflecting
forever moon glow
Where the nymph and sylph and dryad never go,
whispering and wondering ---
gazing to this lady alone,
this poor begotten thing ---
this shadow unto death,
who filled with eternal tears
(seated in some unknown place)
her nose in roses, and her mind always in the past
(grieving life)
and mourning some faceless man
*** Inspired from a friend's mother, who at the age
of 40 --- all but gave up on life at the death of her
husband, which deeply saddened me ***
Seduce me in Black and White
You reach toward my face
and touch my lips
Tracing the slightly raised pink curve of them
gently - lightly - before
the urge to kiss me seizes the opportunity
Surrealistic sensations immortalize
as our lips seek and lock
Interchange of strange, new emotions
flow as our tongues entwine
Sun having a siesta under his canopy of clouds sends
sombre golden light slanting through the old colonial blinds
Enough for me to see ~
I want to see ~
Caressing fingers don’t stop as kisses linger
moving in seductive circular motion
Circling - tracing - moulding
twin peaks to unashamed pertness
Tantalising ripples course my body
Like the soft waving flutter of butterflies winged kisses
creating sensuous ripple upon ripple
Of pure undulating pulsating
I want to see ~
Fingers urgently move now to my navel
circling, tracing, tinkling
Like a pianist on his keys
of black and white
Are they really only two colours?
Why then do they lilt a rainbow of colours to my ears?
On my fevered skin caressing fingers script my Rhapsody
The slow whirring beat of the ancient ceiling fan
picks up a harmonic note
of a solitary flute
Wanting to add to the sultry scene
It lends its own mysterious charm
A tantalising urge to arch
I want to feel ~
Impatient now for them to move further
Fiery Desire entices curious fingers to touch
dew that cumulates dusk to dawn on my awakening rose
Exciting, enticing emotions
The aromatic rapture floats me to you
a tortuously slow feeling to satiate
Propels bodies to engage
I want to feel ~ I want to feel ~ I want to feel you
A frog croaks discordantly outdoors
Snapping me out of my reverie
Startling me out of my romantic fantasy
Eyes fall back on monochrome words of my book
I long to dwell in this erotic moment
Weaving the music into a mesmerising crescendo
However
The old wooden blades of the ceiling fan
resume back to the rhythmic measured clickity clack
The spell now broken
I reach for my phone to call my lover
He awaits my call …
Video Clip - Yanni - Romantic piano
Barbie
from Loch
March 5, 1990
I fell in love in a biker bar
with a girl in chocolate hair.
It swept around her like a smoky fire
and woke up the beast in my lair.
Her bright eyes twinkled like brilliant stars
at the end of the moonless road--
they called to me like a siren song
to lay down my heavy load.
Tall she was like a square rigged ship
like a mast shrouded in clouds;
and she could dance like a foamy wave,
making Neptune cry out loud.
But the path of a ship is a bubble
and suddenly she was gone--
her chocolate hair and vanilla neck
are moments in my sad song.
This siren's memory seizes me
like cinnamon schnapps and a grin
which warm the body from the inside out
and settle a smile on your chin.
Her dancing hair drove my clouds away
and opened an azure sky;
and all I asked was a tall, thin ship
and two stars to steer me by.
Among all the women I've danced with
none are remembered so fair
as a girl who walked like a tall ship,
and had waves of chocolate hair.
My muse is a poetic flower garden,
blooming lilacs in barren meadows,
but I still remember
how I heeded haunting heartbeats
in paradise, whilst praying
for your lustrous light,
to descend onto my hazy horizons.
Your eyes like captivating sunsets,
made me dream away,
recalling shells lost in a forgotten
coral reef, castaway upon
an elusive island,
where the paths have no name,
but the oceanic breeze
calls yours so softly.
I was killing time,
scribbling elegies
on distant musical shores,
where spotted eagle rays
and flying fish were my only mentors.
Nocturnal reef sharks unfolded tales
beneath lonesome skies,
illustrating a secretive stairway
that would lead me
to the scintillating stars.
Deep within my heart,
I knew in the darkest
night you are the light
that would illuminate
my breathless sighs
with blazing ballads
rewriting my fate,
reawakening my
need to thrive through these
endless melancholic monsoons;
surfing through vast oceans.
Your cosmic radiance pulled
this chocolate mermaid,
from the bioluminescent
ripples of sorrow,
empathising with
endless streams from
my volcanic mind
and harmonious heart,
which was in dire
need of healing,
from draconian depleted
ideologies imprinted within
a labyrinth of
narcissistic daffodils,
emanating deceptive fragrances
resembling the devil's disciple,
claiming me as nothing,
but a mere self
confessed queen
on a conquest to conquer
the uncontrollable calling
to a land of virtual hypocrisy.
If only they knew
I no longer desired
to rule a kingdom of
tumultuous pretense.
I was waiting for the
return of the butterflies,
tearing apart the fragile
walls of its cocoon.
I knew if Romeo did not die,
I would be living Juliet's desires.
I was a poetess
searching for
a purpose, with no sense
to shelter, watching the
last icicle
of winter melt away.
Truth deserves a narrative
that has no ending,
though I question the universe.
Where do the
lost poets reside?
Is it where the
moon chooses to hide,
disguising dreariness
within dazzling blankets
of dancing moonscapes,
or will this be how
this sleepless soul
seizes its faultless lunar tide?
The mischievous Sandman runs a con game each night
After all the youngsters are safely tucked away
He dances into my room like an elfin sprite
He seizes my hand, tries to lure me outside to play
Then he’s bored on my shoulder at the computer
Threatens to throw pixie dust into sleepy eyes
Quells my muse like a discourteous intruder
I’ve attempted to handle him with a compromise
Just let my muse roam free for a couple of hours
For at this time of night, fantasies flow smoothly
But he feels the need to boast of superpowers
And when I ask for time, he glares gloomily
It’s three in the morning and I should be asleep
This nightly visitor has grown to be a pest
Distaste continues to grow for this pesky creep
And the sandman scowls when I say, “Give it a rest!”
*Entry for Deb’s Fantasy Land Contest
April 29, 2011
I blame you, moon, for bringing thoughts of love
in night to charm my eyes in slumber deep.
Dreams drift bewildered in my head above
til’ morning seizes passion’s grip from sleep.
The moon shines careless on this lonely soul
and beckons prey to seek the hunter’s fang.
As dark expands in shadows to console,
they slice the skin releasing bitter pain.
In dreams, I feel a heart beating with mine,
a stranger once becomes now all I know.
Familiar taste upon my lips like wine
flows perfectly from starry tide aglow.
How do I live in sunlight’s looming grave,
deadened by numbing rays of ruthless sun?
How do I live without the arms I crave,
amongst the crowds until the day is done?
I blame you, moon, for rousing dreams within
to taunt me with a lover’s longing smile.
Beneath closed lids, I’m lost in timeless spin.
Winds whisper, moon, please let her sleep awhile.
for Gautami Phookan's Waking Dreams Contest, 12/1/14
Dedicated to my Friend, Andrea Dietrich
A blessing meant to materialize is how I define Andrea’s role in my life. Andrea is a bright light of warmth that I began to seek more and more as our personalities seamlessly bonded in fulfilling and meaningful ways. While we share the same continent, thousands of miles separate us that will eventually be conquered by the powers of friendship. I have told the universe that I insist on such! I will admit a slight fear; Andrea has an abundance of energy whereas I’m a napper who might fall face down trying to keep up with her. To me, Andrea is goodness personified. She has the heart of a caring teacher as I’ve learned when I’m baffled about Soup matters or other, for she instructs without even being asked. My friend is consistent, reliable, organized, committed to people and things she cares about. Andrea can be much too hard on herself for she is a perfectionist. As a writer, she is a talent whose well of creativity has no bottom but an endless stream of imagination that blesses everyone who reads her. In many ways, Andrea has an innocence that I find difficult to verbally discern though I am keenly aware of it and delightfully refreshed by it. In a world of business and family schedules and demands, I greatly admire Andrea for carving out niches where her individuality is nurtured and sated; she knows who she is. She is a genuine, individuated individual who truly seizes each day in her best grasp to live with her best effort. I love her very much.
she's always been good
i have colored outside lines ~
we bonded as friends
Can a man, who does not believe,
Fall to his knees,
And beg some relief?
Can one, who has been given,
The life of a dream,
Ball his fists?
Nails dug into the palms till they bleed…
Look to the heavens and scream…
And be heard?
Is it right to love something so damn much,
That the anger inside,
Rips at your pride,
And the pain is unbearable to the touch?
Is my hate a cop out?
Is it a way to deal?
Maybe a method to my madness;
Which allows me to feel?
Will God help me with this sadness?
If I still fail to believe?
I ask;
Is it me I deceive?
Can I truly let go?
Allow the curtains to close on this show?
Raise my hand in farewell,
And hold praise in my heart for this hell?
If I spit venom,
Out of spite…
Can I stand proud?
For having rode the torrent,
And call it right?
If my tears run free,
With the lump in my throat,
That seizes me,
Can I stare you in the eye?
And ask that you remember me?
Or is it my greed?
Or this anger,
Once at seed?
Now in full bloom…
So emotional,
Uncontrollable,
Inconsolable,
Confused…
Grasping…
So much that I am asking;
Can God help me now?
Mama held me close to her bosom
wouldn't let me go astray
she shook the cradle of civilization
and to her wayward offspring
she paid attention.
She added a tinge of color to the cheeks of some
and tinted plenty with even more
for identification, as to whom they belonged.
While her purported gaze
stored us from mediocrity
she whispered silent pants
when our future's prowess
begun to shiver she remained astute.
Mana Africa! I call you by this name
You've nullified all bleak spectrum
situations bestowed on us
when frequent ill-health
pounded on our weary hearts
you trembled --never loss guard
We are forever indebted to your
unflinching affirmation of sheer solidarity
Mana Africa!
your goodwill seizes not to elude
Capricious speeches we confer
as we orate about the trying times
The soundbites of your caresses will never
be deserted; let alone our appraisal of celerity
The best of we your “Adeptus Children”
have supplied the melatonin
from your sacred womb
and you have followed us with
love and self determination
as we have toiled on foreign soil
Then as we have been scattered
to the four corners;
Innately we have held on to our sanity.
Stayed in tuned to our intuition
as we have maintained circadian rhythms
and overcame enough, clinging to
our dignity in one hand and our
lives in the other, still to rise above.
Nana has taught us to endure
to be courageous, outrageously
courageous we have been.
even as we achieved
Our circadian rhythms were off beat.
Sacrifices only a mother would make
from the alchemy of adoration comes her love
self-determination is the water of her blood
and she the blood in our veins
the blood passed on...a mother’s blood...
Mana Africa
Ase’
A collaberatetion withYoung Prince Kennedy from Ghana and Mama Oladeji aka Vicki Acquah
WALKING NEAR THE WATERS
Under the warm golden hug of sunrise’s bliss
shielded by rugged ridges and flagging trees
emerged a peaceful scene.
Through the clear, somber, sleeping, water
sunlight revealed shadows spelling odes beneath;
odes unfolded by rising ripples in cerulean gleam,
touched by nothing but the gliding breeze which
seizes silt and shingles causing baby currents lift.
Sparkling like priced pearls in the still noon,
their waves, a calm heart’s pulse, speak.
I linger, tranquil, afloat in the ageless ocean’s
lea, sitting on a dry old rock-sheltered bank,
drinking the healing power from the scene.
Time is suspend; I see the lake like a child,
the ridges and trees, His grand legions line.
The shadows stretch, His noble progress to a life
unfurled during years of swarming battles.
But, He has a wealth of hope and stood amidst
the sudden ripples; unmoved by fear, for He
can hold the shifts. He who’s polished tough
and wise has championed in a sunken time.
He matured. He populated good influence
calling others to imitate his stance. He promised
life without fear cherished with gratitude, and
his shared touch was not dulled by passing years.
His memory endured, so many remember Him.
______________________________________________________
~Inspired by the painting: Lake by Georgia Engelhard ~
***For the painting, Debbi Guzzi's Ten Paintings, Ten Poems, Not for a Contest, thanks for the wonderful experience.
__Olive Eloisa D. Guillermo__
9:17am, January 14, 2015
The night takers come when the sun goes down
When there's no one around to hear the quiet loud
They are the shadowed clouds feared by the proud
Seeping in through ears with maddening clapping sound
Insane clowns with razor sharp teeth poking around
The mind pounds until it's fully unwound
Once it's lost it can never be found
The brain twitches and seizes until it freezes
Epileptic diseases permeating the creases
Too late to call out or to cry to Jesus
Life never owned each one of us leases
Man thinks he can do whatever he pleases
Monkey like minds relating to rhesus
Trying to pick up all the evolutionary pieces
**** disguised as treasure but it's still feces
Witness lowly ones described as meek
Traveling along a narrow path to seek
Listening to prophets from the past speak
People laughing and calling them Jesus Freaks
Thinking they're feeble minded and weak
Are the wise and powerful really so unique
Who will be left to listen to their critique
For the night takers came and took them in their sleep
We live in a world of wise people who feel Science
is our salvation. Yet each attempt man makes to improve
upon creation seems to destroy another part of it.
Eventually we are the takers and the taken.
IT’S ONE OF THOSE FABULOUS POEMS
It’s one of those poems
full of whimsical stuff
when you’ve read a few lines
you’ve had more than enough.
it triggers a smile
and it throws you off-track
you don’t want to read it
but keep coming back
it has no direction
no themes or no plots
but it grabs your attention
seizes your thoughts.
it’s one of those poems
you just can’t explain
why you read it
again and again.
It’s one of those poems
that just doesn't make sense
it has not a present
or even past tense
with the subject confusing
it doesn’t seem fair
it sucks you right in
then leaves you hanging there
it may give you a headache
it may make you groan
but somehow you just
can’t leave it alone.
it’s one of those poems
you’d like to hide on a shelf
but you wish you had
written your self.
It’s one of those poems
where the style is wrong
too long for a lyric
too short for a song
It’s one of those poems
difficult to review
the meter is off
the formats askew
it’s one of those poems
you never thought you would keep
but it plays in your mind
as you’re trying to sleep
though it's not your genre
somehow it hooks you
you can’t wait till
your friends read it too.
IT'S ONE OF THOSE FABULOUS POEMS!
Greed
Entitled by birth
So sure of his worth
A spawn of the upper crust seizes
Most any and all
Nay modest or small
His share of whatever he pleases
From a child to a man
The little prince can
Never enjoy what he sees is
His mountain of stuff
Though never enough
Claims his soul while he overseas it.
That quest for the till
That vast want unfilled
Binds the man to the thought that he needs it
The substance he craves
Though his being depraved
Will be free only when he concedes it.
This country United
one can clearly see
only blind hide in truth
Illegally a government seizes power
against the vote with a clear strike
Overthrowing moral grounds
At which point do we say enough
Their soul aim to enforce ill will
against good standing people
It's a mutiny against freedom of choice
using it to kill babies
Exploiting our democracy fact
You bloodless hounds without spines
are only in it for the money
Crawling vermin hidden underneath the table
Fighting for scraps sick agendas
I am a son of David from the clans of ulster
As state assets are freely given away
Without consent their should be a public outcry
Democratic Republic sits on the right side
All the left wing who will hang this nation
Out to dry as they rob ores
from underneath our feets destroying our land
with your greed creating poverty
Selling away our basic rights and commodities
sick reality without virtues
To gain their thirty pieces
We need to stand and defend our constitution
for our children's sake and their dowry
As they sign the pact
One which will weight
heavy on their souls as we are raped
continuesly of our sovereignty
Human rights ignored for no good reason
enough is enough I have a voice
any laws passed by this circus
Undemocraticly elected government
Is not backed or passed by the peoples choice
this needs to be called into order as a state
Crisis of emergency by the judges
They who stand for truth to address
Should judge according to the law laid down
"Outside Closed Circles"
Tall limbed stories
are stilts
to walk softly
aloft the shallows
casting shadows
bruised in purple
a double degree
in stray fellows
luxury is the
comfort calling
in front of all the Lost
pressed between pages
keeping safe between lines
transparent cowards
blooming now
between pages
kisses soft and velvet
like moist dew drops
on forgotten blue flowers
that unfurl skywards
fresh and smiling
lick the golden syrup
of his sun
Lux
is
Love
Could this be
Life again
Beginning
again
unravelling
before the feet
of the somnolent casual
outside
closed circles
and
black shadows
under the eyes of
the thinned skinned
Is this the
Begin Again?
the true story
unravels
(LadyLabyrinth / 2021)
"Wake Up Alone" / Amy Winehouse
https://youtu.be/bS8-qQojlhA
“Drowned in me,
we bathe under blue light
His face in my dreams
seizes my guts
He floods me with dread
Soaked in soul,
he swims in my eyes by the bed
Pour myself over him,
moon spilling in
And I wake up alone “
LYRICS/ "Wake Up Alone", Amy Winehouse
https://genius.com/Amy-winehouse-wake-up-alone-lyrics