Best Sharply Poems
For Jack and the Blueridge Mountains
Close my eyes ~
I’m on that mountain
lush with Autumn taste.
Close my eyes ~
We are love entwined
in crisp fall leafed lace.
Close my eyes ~
Lips of first perfect kiss,
once more bliss moist my lips
Close my eyes ~
We are young again,
connecting eyes, souls and skin
Close my eyes ~
Sharply, my satin-sad edged truths
wonder if autumn ever takes you … too …
Close your eyes ~
Kiss me with eager touch. As fire’s savior,
thrill to shivers in dew soft, mountain air.
Caress-wrapped, we lay in misty vapor
from dusk’s bursting promise of brazen flush
until dawn’s fresh sonnet on takings rush.
Close your eyes ~
Grasp our hearts of innocent stares
watching how teenage summer dies
when feelings are autumn implied
This solemn shore of atrophy called grief,
would sail on, sail on from this moor of thief -
while yesterday I smiled, and did achieve
today am stricken to a nodding leave!
This buckling of intent, I do perceive
is more than time can counter or receive
do take more time with me and yet proceed
to bolster me - my actions so recede!
What fondness should attain in this bereave,
it is a mocking sign, its own conceive
is born anew, with someone's silenced knave
and never felt so sharply, now its slave!
has manifested to a halting save -
and captured those surrounding . . . . . true love's grave!
She like a fresh dew bestows nourishment
to the graceful morning dove
in a luscious meadow filled with
tall fluorescent green grasses and
yellow, blue, and white wildflowers,
quenches all my worldly thirsts.
She like the pure white swan which
swims majestically on
a sea of gold reflecting
the powerful rays of the sun
consumes me with all her beauty
She like a great bountiful mountain
rising sharply into the
endless cobalt sky accented with
opulent cumulous clouds
lifts me to greater heights
She like the burnished northern star,
the glistening Polaris, guiding
the wayward ship to it's port,
leads me to my one true home
She is my heart, my mind and my soul
She is my meaning, my substance, my know
She is my sun, my star, my moon
She is my spirit, my vision, my muse
How can you look someone in the eyes and tell them it's the end?
How can you possibly do that without shedding tears?
Or even blinking?
Do you not feel it? That pain, that pain that's taking over
Their soul, as you tell them their life is ending?
Or maybe it's just that you have lost your own soul?
In that instant when you found out that the greatest part of yourself
Is about to disappear,
That its light was about to be permanently extinguished.
Can't you feel it? That sorrow that slowly shutters their hearts?
Or the fear that's taking over their minds? it's a furious fire,
Cutting off any glimpse of hope with its smog,
That fear, its suffocating their soul into its last gasp.
Can't you see it? How that laughter ends sharply, in pain?
How it breaks in half every time, never to relapse into its fullness?
How the darkness stealthily takes over those, once life-filled, eyes?
That following calm,
It's the call of darkness,
Smoothly enchanting their soul into submissiveness.
Until all is in deadly silence,
Their bodies still, their souls forever gone into unknown.
Do your tears come then? Do you feel their pain then?
Do you see it? Or do you stay the same?
Unchanged, unemotional, shell shocked,
And forever unbelieving still?
When asked "Where is it your from?"
It caught me off guard, I stop to think
Of a beat up record whose song
When sung makes your heart sink
I have been a fool again I see
sad i don't belong anywhere
Thinking here I shouldn't be
doesn't matter if life is unfair
"Wow I haven't learned a thing"
Emotionless sharply I inhale
chest feels so tight it stings
again I am just an epic fail
To not stay long is that wrong
avoiding feelings I now feel
Now I have got to stay strong
The pain I must try to conceal
"Nowhere" I say avoiding your stare
"Never stayed long in any place!"
Stating truthful I couldnt dare
After a dream I'll not catch but
always chase
Written: March 31st, 2025, for contest, Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
************
After basking in yesterday's afterglow,
I divested my vestments
to shift in cognitive mindset.
I stroll toward the horizon.
where the azure sky
embraces the vast sea blue.
Waves dance.
With silvered clouds,
Creating an orchestra
The wind and light are present.
Sallow shadows scintillate.
In Moonlight Melodies...
As dusk settles,
casting a shimmering awe that echoes of
The splendor of the galaxies abounds.
In every breath,
A promise resonates,
to the dawn
that dwells within me.
Gliding on golden wings
a sovereign among the kings
As light swirls beneath the Milky Way,
The cosmos shines brilliantly.
In a pearly gown.
Angels slide,
Unleashing their power
to restore their lost throne.
With flickering wings,
Wield the sword of stone
their footsteps inscribe
a path of golden light,
As they conquer the onyx depths
of an obsidian night.
Loving blasts their souls.
angel wings shake in sadness,
where grief and despair are hefty,
seeking an aerial citrine nirvana
I recall it sharply,
as if it were yesterday,
Tears mar the silky pillows.
as honeysuckle
It oozes from eager lips. —
There is a longing for satisfaction.
Lipstick etches its mark.
He left an imprint on his bare skin.
Even now, those intertwined chains
of Memory ensnares me.,
As well-oiled fingers traverse
the curves of the sensuous body,
ordinary yet glowing in the sunlight,
filled with a relentless passion.
Nervous tension shattered,
striking, akin to a diamond on ebony velvet.
As her body warmed and became silky,
Her lips melted and tasted delicious.
They expressed love ardently.
and hugged fervently.
swept up in passion and longing,
wishing the moment might last forever,
cocooned in each other's arms,
and felt blissfully pleased,
Polishing words into gems,
dusted garnet, with sunset slips
In citrine clouds cast
There was a ray of magenta skies.
I wish for unending delight.
and utter bliss in the afterglow.
The Contest
I would like to enter,
and sometimes I do.
Occasionally I even win,
to my surprise.
How cool!
The true rule,
to every fool,
or pirate on a mission;
is write,
and write,
and write.
Do something,
say something in words,
that will ripple and feel.
Good or bad,
happy or sad,
most importantly...
Real!
About events that have taken place,
and ones that are yet to occur.
Items of interest to those in the dark,
to sing to the Light.
It is a fight daily,
to hit the right keys and not freeze.
To listen to the birds, for words.
Then, to be still and pray.
I want to move too fast,
I need to run.
But I can not.
I need to fly.
But have no wings.
I need to swim,
but my mermaid tail was sharply cut,
and legs grew back...
Clumsy now,
I stir my coffee with a sardine,
not to be mean,
they just taste good.
Oh baneful yellow Moon in fullest rounded sphere,
Bright as Summers Buttercups in abundant yield,
Coldly riveted upon Winters beaten, thin silvered panels;
Thereof: By ye mighty hammer doth great thoth wield!
For what fearful trowel gouged out thine far flung valleys
Whilst piling high upon yon monstrous heights?
Wherest, scattering the bare pebbles, a ghostly sower
Coursing across vast cratered plains under Selenian moonlights.
Here once didst thou swelling tides ever invade long vanished shores
Dragged upon by some dwindling, exploded, far distant star;
An atmosphere girdling, warming and nurturing -
Torn from this barren rock and cast way out afar!
Eternally ostracized and deviled, adorned in black swirling robes;
Drifting angular grains heaped - raked by hot solar winds;
Your desolate kingdoms lit in all seasons under heavenly lanterns;
Worshiped and foully cursed upon: for any amount - and all manner of sins.
And ere did erstwhile lovers that ever come forth on bended knee,
To traverse the pale beams that twist about the crooked stiles,
Pledge well intended oaths beneath high, impossible windows:
Their grandly draped balconies and balustrades bathed in luminosities wiles.
When across the recorded centuries of histories misted-veiled years,
from the quill of the old sage, from the high lilt of the bard,
Your pensive countenance disaffected and of a cheerless tilt -
Hanging upon sharply crested vestiges of reckless disregard!
Turning and dipping in graceful, acrobatic flight,
my spirit soars against a sky brilliantly blue;
from these heights, I view life in its completeness,
its complex boundaries and limitations sharply defined.
I maintain my composure, calm and unruffled by the storms . . .
I sail above the strife where the sun spreads warmth upon my wings.
From this lofty perspective, I watch over my dearest ones.
This clear air provides treasures of wisdom, beauties like the facets of precious jewels,
sparkling with the vibrance that makes joy complete;
I glean and feed them to my little ones, giving them nutrients to enrich their minds.
Home is my central focus.
I learn and implement all that I can to make my nest comfortable and complete,
a rich environment for growth.
Do not intrude; I protect what is mine.
© May 11, 2015, Faye Lanham Gibson
The city is a milky, oval opal
cradled between the mountains' breasts;
from my airplane window I view her misty shoulders,
her features masked by darkness,
quiet in midnight sleepiness.
From my perspective she lies in peaceful slumber,
but what do shadowy vapors hide?
We descend; closer,
the pricks of light stab more sharply
until I can discern the gleaming blood flowing,
shimmering rivers pulsing through the streets.
This flight will end below
where you are waiting in brightly lit airport;
people rush upon their ways
to other highways twisting through the sky.
We will find an all night cafe,
sit across from one another
and wish our own heart fog would dissipate.
Copyright, August 13, 2015
Truth, Shines Ever So Brightly
I was once wrapped it teeth and thick fur
ferocious and ghastly beast was me.
I was a bad dog, a wicked little cur
whipping and snapping at every small flea.
One day, the sun burnt my covering hide
and exposed my hideous skin to see.
Such truth, this heart could not abide
stung me ever so sharply like a bee.
Now comes time to hold less as much more
walk a different path free and alone.
Yes, light filtered through that sad door
where my greatest folly was then shown.
I was once wrapped in thick, shiny scales
Now a deep truth destroys those tall tales.
Robert J. Lindley, 1-09-2016
All alone in a bush downstream
Where not a soul was likely to dwell
Pinned against the green grasses, a young girl
Injecting her ruthlessly, a cruel hunk
At my sight, off he fled
A rape victim an innocent soul
Her mind drifts into the abyss of sorrow
As red fluid streams down her thighs
Reaching out for a nearby leaf
Just to clear off the mess
Her heart,heavy in her ribs
Up I lifted and embraced her as the
torrent of her tears soaks through my shirt
I could hear her silent screams
As she tries to hold back the seething torrent
Holding on to her nerves,
She suffocates with each breath
For he had sucked out the life in her
Painfully, she groans 'Adieu my dignity'
Gone too soon, her virginity
Time and time again,
As the steady stream trickles down her face,
Her lower lip quivers
Her eyes, the colour of moss and dirt
Shoveled together
As if a black mist had settled upon her
The day bright, but the torrid sun she could not feel
The sonorous song of birds, less could she hear
Sadness, her nightingale
Tainting her joy
Inside her heart, a piercing thorn
As sharp and incisive
As the stroke of a fang
A visit to the great beyond,
Her last resort
Sharply, her pains I inhale
Sitting below my skin,
The depth of her piercing thorn
Round her thin dark hair, my hand hovers
Just to calm her intra-personal war
'Young girl', said I then to her
Brighter than the stars, the future
For the past can you change not'
Too dark, today's night
Too bright, tomorrow's sun
To wind back the hand of time
And save her day, my desire
To her, the world was lost
Off she sadly went!
Permanent joy, all but a task
As Marion trod the old familiar path
leading to the river of her childhood,
she viewed the willow tree across the river
and recalled with clarity
the event that changed her life
half a century ago - that memory
which for all her adult life
she‘d managed to suppress . . .
She was being chased by Ellie down the path;
Ellie, the fair haired younger sister
favored by their father
and wearing the golden pendant he had given her
when she’d won a spelling bee.
Yanking the pendant from her sister’s neck,
Marion ran into the river’s icy water,
threatening to throw the pendant in.
Screaming, Ellie followed right behind.
Farther into the river’s center, the two girls moved.
Where the riverbed dipped sharply,
Ellie had caught up.
Suddenly the wind blew violently,
The chain with its beautiful pendant
slipped from Marion’s hand
into the swirling water.
Ellie tottered, falling backwards.
Then the river was carrying
Marion’s little sister to the other side.
Marion called out, but Ellie did not answer.
A strong swimmer, Marion swam
to her sister’s lifeless body
on the opposite bank where a nearby willow stood -
witness to her crime.
Marion now was standing where she once had stood
that fateful day. The river had receded with time,
but its current was still strong.
She stood recalling her parents’ bitter tears
and how she had escaped their wrath
inventing her own version of the truth -
that Ellie had run into the water by herself
when the sudden wind came up
causing her demise.
She felt bad, but in the end,
she became her father’s newfound pride and joy.
Something glittered at the water’s edge.
Marion, now heavy and clumsy with age,
moved closer to see. Could it be after all these years?
Yes, it was the pendant, shining in the river’s sludge!
She stooped to pick it up, but lost her balance,
falling forward toward the slanting floor.
As she struggled, a great gust of wind
moved her out. . .farther and farther to the middle.
Before her head vanished below the water’s surface,
she saw that old willow’s leaves flutter angrily.
She could almost swear she saw the form of Ellie,
fair sweet Ellie, beckoning her from the other side.
For Frank Herrera's POEM ENDING WITH A 'CHILLING TWIST' Poetry Contest
FLOWER POWER
He broke the rule, shattered it,
left the pieces for all to see.
The hill rolling, tree climbing,
butterfly chasing, game of tag
was over and the race for the
water fountain was on.
He ran with his flock,
suddenly breaking sharply
to the left, slowing to a
two knee landing.
He bent low, rolled onto
his side, did a little snake
dance, then lay motionless.
After several minutes he rose,
corrected his circuitous cycle,
and rejoined the thirsty flock.
Intrigued, I investigated the
cause/effect relationship
of his deviation - A lone dandelion.
It had drawn him in,
he had studied it, touched it,
smelled it, tasted it, spent a
few moments getting to know it.
He remained unfamiliar with the rule
but had gained a familiarity with
the dandelion.
Perhaps he was on to something.
Submitted to Encounters with Flowers – Poetry Contest
Sponsor – Anthony Slausen
11/22/2014
Beyond the Door
When the Angel of Death arrived, I submitted to the passage
as he signaled me and lured me to his carriage.
Mighty black steeds pulled us. The trail became a tunnel;
I stared steadfast at the light, hoping energy to funnel.
Memories upset me and sharply I felt the pain
of each person I had harmed pursuing my own gain.
In this tunnel I revisited every moment I’d spent on Earth.
Flailing in self-imposed hell, I doubted my life's worth.
As we came ever closer to the eternal tunnel’s light,
my soul was overcome by a sense of great hope, not fright.
When the carriage stopped before a luminescent pearly door,
cautiously I disembarked onto a fluffy white floor.
It was then that peace engaged my heart and I heard their voices –
soft words of those who stood by me regardless of my choices.
Turning the knob, I entered the realm where those I’d loved lived on.
Although I’d been a sinner and believed the best times were gone,
I found that hope and forgiveness waited on the other side.
In my heart hymns of angels restored and amplified.