Best Simultaneously Poems
With the tremulous dark vista so far and yet so near
Abandoning my defences ~ I stand in awe ~ not in fear
Virtuoso Maestro unleash
a Composition Grandioso
To Overtures of a Symphony
herald the raging storming Tempo
Staccato Strains cascading
rapid torrents of Treble and Tremolo
Rhythmic Beats a Prelude
to an intensifying Triple Time Scherzo
Silken sail unfurled I embrace the storm of your tempestuous symphony
Crashing~ drifting~ floating~ flowing~ tasting ~awakening my melodic epiphany
Effervescent chilling thrilling air as
Allegro whelms Allegretto
Electrifying sizzling Musette ~
Trills a mesmeric Capriccio
Registers booming Bass Notes
rumbling within your thunderous Vibrato
Echoing claps of thunder Prompt
a spectacular Cadence Crescendo
I release my Spirit to gratify every phantasy in its sight
The soaring Tempest of my Soul liberates its own Philharmonic flight
Inhibitions abandoned as I succumb to your Music of the Night
Footnote:
By way of musical term allegory, I have endeavored to dramatize and romanticize the Awesomeness of an Electrical Thunderstorm and simultaneously likening it to the rush of tactual Sensual, Sexuality and Emotions experienced in romantic instances. I felt that the instrumental rendition of ‘The Phantom’ Musical, aptly accentuates the trepidation, anticipation and elating sentiments portrayed in the various elements of my poem.
Susan Boulet was an artist 1941-1997
Her paintings are famous for their layered effects which she started later on in her artistic career. She loved fantasy which is easily seen in her paintings. This is my fantasy poem as I look at this beautiful picture painted by Susan Boulet.
The old man sits quietly on the hillside, knowing his days as one
Spirit would soon be coming to an end. He stares blankly at the heavens where the pale blue sky is the backsplash for Cumulus clouds now filling in, the horizon. He chants his prayer over and over again calling his brothers to come receive his spirit and be one with him for all eternity. Brother bear, cloak me with the warmth of your coat that we may walk through each winter and never be cold again. We will stand together as one, never again will we know fear. Brother wolf fill my heart with your loyal spirit that we may rise to heights of a love greater than any human could possibly achieve. His prayer seems to rise more intensely as he continues. Mighty cat, share with me your speed that we may be faster than the wind, jumping through the clouds as one. Wise and good owl, become one with us that we shall have wings to fly as eagles and wisdom to find eternal peace. Now the old man whispers, together we shall hold the secrets of the universe in our hands. Soon his chin drops down on his chest as a smile crosses his face, and the old frail body crumbles to the hard rocky ground. Then the cry of a wolf, the hoot of an owl and simultaneously the roars of a sabre-toothed and bear echo through the valley. As darkness fills the sky and the moon is high, the silhouette of a young warrior stands proudly on the bluff.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
10.26.2014
For Debbie Guzzi’s Contest:
Free Verse, Prose Poetry, Haibun
We have our routine to perfection
Our way of saying I love you and
Wouldn’t want to live without you
We’re a strong solid team you and I
We are going to make it through this
Home is when I’m with you
The incessant flow of aches and pains
All those appointments and treatments
We don’t blow things out of proportion
Or make a fuss about how things used to be
We’ve moved on taking it one day at a time
Home is when I’m with you
Now when my arms wrap around you
Softly resting your head on the pillow
We simultaneously raise your legs
Gentle as a ballet that’s well rehearsed
Swiveling you comfortably in bed to rest
Home is when I’m with you
I bundle you in warm cozy blankets
Cuddle up with whispers well into the night
Pressed one against the other
Caressing the nook of your neck
Spooning you till one of us falls asleep
Home is when I’m with you
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~CAN'T IMAGINE~ 2020
AP: 3rd place 2025
Submitted on April 18, 2019 for contest VERSES OF METAPHORS 3 sponsored by LU LOO - RANKED 1ST
"Violinist : Diana Yukawa Vocals : Jemma Lyrics : The Poet"
If you start Dianna's video on the 26th second and Jemma's voice recording on the 13th second simultaneously, my words fit exactly to the music.
Where do we go to?
Feelings so blue now,
When we think of you.
So many souls are gone now.
Gone forever into the blue.
Lost not forgotten.
Thinking of you.
Thinking of you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Where do we go to now?
Where do we go?
Something familiar and new.
Dear one I need you.
I am no where near you .
Feeling this song is for you.
See I long for you now .
All on my own now.
My body longs to know you.
I light a candle loving you now .
longing too.
Longing for you.
You are my savior.
I am needing you.
Happy as I am,
Missing you too.
I do need you close now.
Needing you so.
Where dear are you now?
Seeing you now.
Longing for you I am too.
Longing for you.
You are my savior.
I am needing you.
Happy as I am,
Missing you too.
I do need you close now.
Needing you so.
Where dear are you now?
Seeing you now.
within the catastrophe awaits a notion
a hook, a thread, an unfurling devotion
forever falling - cascading in time
to always be his and he always mine
sometimes we follow a fading star
find stories in its essence about who we are
about-turn and unravel to expose the substrate
temptation not required for emergence of fate
take a gamble to force the reveal
let go of languor, add tension we can feel
step off the edge and await pure black
find ourselves at the beginning of the very same track
I know him, I've known this but let me dive deeper
uncover the secrets not even known to their keeper
embrace the objective, move ahead of the curve
be inside the slow dance, but simultaneously observe
view backwards, race past predestination
objectively witness moments of true captivation
see from a distance what cognition requires
show me the equation that explains our desires
for we circle and cross and create maps in the sky
bound on this path and I need to know why
there must be wisdom to our blinking pulsation
a purpose that explains all of creation
let me learn of the spark and effervesce in the trail
become one with the meaning as you lift the veil
let me overload and explode into glorious ash
to immerse and burn out in final rapturous flash
In this field of plantation;
Where I walk and plant various
parts of myself around this
world;
I sometimes look back and notice
the trail;
I recognize the lettuce of charity
I’ve grown constantly through the
years,
the tomatoes of kindness which
resonates red to the world,
For as the blood flows within my
temple,
Kindness will always be found
here;
Also my celery of respect remains
long,
And continues growing as much as I
do;
And yet for all these positive elements
I’ve learned to express to my
environment;
Occasionally I plant a bad seed which
poison’s the essence of my entire
being;
And for that, I apologize.
Although a perfectionist in small doses I
am not perfect,
And as a result my garden of Eden
contains more infamous fruit then I
would want,
Stemming from lack of growth in my
maturity plant;
While a few of any negative offspring
have cultivated,
None have been more consistent in growth
than my deception seed.
Unfortunately as I’ve grown into
adulthood,
So has my subconscious lying,
Sadly after a while you don’t even
realize that it still sleeps in your
field,
And as a human constantly harvesting
you learn to accept it;
However evolution never grows
old,
And even a perfect saint contains a
lifetime of imperfect downfalls,
So while I’m familiar with deception,
It is those virtuous seeds that grow
within me,
That are parallel with my height
and with that, I’m content.
God never asked for our field to be
perfect,
But to show progression,
So that it could display many of lives
lessons,
And as my life continues adding up,
I can promise the world that my
dark seeds subtract simultaneously;
But yet I understand we’re all human,
And we must reap what we
sow,
Therefore I’m hoping that my seeds of
empowerment in the form of black eyed
peas, fall into my neighbors field,
Thereby enriching their lives for yet another
season.
Two little sparks
enlightening the dark
(tidal waves tugging on the heart)
One named Amelia, the other Aurora:
Completing the scenery --- fauna and flora.
But Borealis, she has no stake in the matter,
for she is just a melancholy rainbow
in comparison --- to the flames that ignite
your very being ... all the while you take pleasure in the heat,
being warmed by their joy and curiosity.
Go ahead and draw lines in the sand
(they will jump over them with glee)
And simultaneously have you giggling
at their tenacity.
Two little sparks
through the woods they embark
(one look at their eyes --- and there goes my heart)
Playing hide 'n' seek with the two of them
they disappear (and re-appear) just like fireflies in June.
Dotting the intrepid pathways like sparkles, like magic.
(the fact they'll one day grow up ... it's rather tragic)
Why can't they stay little forever and touch the ceiling
by riding on my shoulders?
Why not stay brittle so I can be protective --- instead like all things
you must grow older.
For now though Oh for now!
It's nothing but a pipe-dream
in the wakefulness of day.
Youthful energy can't be contained
much like quarantine flame.
(and between you and me
that's an accurate analogy)
Between these two firebrands -
who could dare understand
what it means to be an uncle
... with the capriciousness of "one of the gang",
and the loving care of a parent.
And who could dare contemplate
this here man's tragic fate:
living next door to the both of them
with no fire blanket.
One's not even walking (the other barely talking)
And while that may seem rather shocking
nieces have that power
to play with your emotions like staccato raindrops
on that big ole blue
they call the ocean.
These flames aren't dying low (not even close)
but only gaining momentum like a lightning strike in a forest:
a thousand popping pine cones re-seeding into infinity.
(And did I say divinity? That too)
They be in competition for my love
like the tug-a-war moon.
It's the kind of game where everyone wins
and it's never too soon ...
... for one more go round.
Written March 9th, 2016
For the Twin Flames Contest Hosted by Nayda Ivette Negron
Placed Second
DECLARATIONS OF A SOCIAL SCIENTIST
Indeed, I am that Poet and know it.
Just in transition to a more enriched poetry form.
I want to talk about life, politics, and religion.
Maybe not simultaneously, but how I am feeling today.
I tell you life isn't a bowl of cherries.
I am not harvesting berries.
I live a vivacious existence.
I nature walk and take beautiful pictures.
I thrive in my leisure time.
Even more so, I work until my mind unwinds.
I am just a thrill seeker but not an extremist.
I am an illustration of well-being.
In fact, I am striving for better physical dexterity.
In all, my body desires more agility.
To eradicate the clumsiness,
My ability to monitor my own quickness is propensity depleted.
My mind, body, and spirit have superseded.
Oh, I am told that it is all right to be big headed.
Of course, gloating is good for your inner being.
Dwindling is not something I will let occur.
I am the booster of morale.
Be assured that I am there for others who seek a physiological mental form.
Do I appear to be titivated?
I am what I have stated.
Doubtlessly, there will be jealousy.
Without doubt, they will envy me.
Undoubtedly, this will not hinder.
I have overcome obstacles since the being of my existence.
Liberated from birth via a nation of government, I am free.
I can wave my hand and be seen.
I can stand up for what is right.
I can ignite the political fire.
I can educate my mind to genius.
I can defeat enmity.
Negativity may come but I disallow it to be a formula.
I am abreast.
|_____________________________________|
Penned on October 31, 2014!
In a small café, customers stream through the door. I jot down orders that pile up as I wonder what’s happening in the back kitchen. The patrons are looking more and more displeased. I scurry table to table filling glasses running endlessly dry and simultaneously noticing the increasing number of empty napkin holders. Where’s the manager? Why is there nobody here but me? The order slips are almost gone. And now plates of food begin appearing in the back so quickly that I cannot recall to which table each one goes. I’m running and running, the proverbial dumb chicken but with its head still attached and throbbing! I hear the clamor of “Where’s our meal?” and more people keep entering through the door.
Now I find myself in a plain white-walled classroom of my school. The clock on the wall ticks on and on as students trickle through the door. Students sit staring as I search a pile of papers for the attendance sheet. The papers fall and I just know my lesson plan is lost among the scattered sheets. I bend to pick them up and my brain is a fog. What am I to teach? I sift through the disarray as ticking seconds become minutes, and a silence pierces me as I view the stony faces before me. I try to mouth words, but they simply won’t come. I can almost feel the fidgeting of the students as my upper lip begins to twitch. I know they are thinking me an imbecile. As I stand dumb stricken, time is fleeing, and more students are entering the room. . . . .
I awaken to the loud incessant ticking of the clock beside my bed. I’ll rise to greet my day, get into my car and meld with a stream of other people driving to their everyday jobs. There will be days that I encounter the cheerless or dissatisfied faces of strangers or even of family and friends. There will be times that I hasten frantically, feeling all is futile as bills pile up or work overwhelms me, and there are sure to be times when I will feel at an utter loss as I live vicariously the nightmarish woes which sometimes my husband must confront. How grateful I am for ordinary days whose hours of normalcy are heaven compared to the mind boggling misery endured throughout this world. And how thankful I am for ordinary days that greatly outnumber a few awful dreams!
Fear Of The Unknown
That sudden unknown, so unrevealing,
it's the tell-tale trademark of the one in question
as it sets off nerves in every-which-way,
plainly creeping aimlessly neath our epidermis.
Shock-waves traipse, recruiting ghostly minions to crawl hither,
steeping the fleshy folds with squirming eels marinade,
forever slithering downward and chilling our brittle bones,
while simultaneously causing us to gnash our pearly whites.
Until we came upon the realization,
that what had truly manifested itself,
was a self-induced fear that was so absorbing,
it had overwhelmed the mind in consuming anxiety,
losing control of our mental faculties,
proffering it free-will to buildup theoretical obsessions,
and alternate concessions.
2019 November 25
*1st Place*
Goosebumps
~~Delilah Ventura
"See of Ghosts"
ghosts never leave
they watch you
while you sleep
casting dreams
of their return
they wait for you
to see
ghosts never leave
whispering their
absent stories
into your delta heart
constant in deep shadows
along the undulating waves
the rocky path to them, you walk
ghosts never leave
whispering their
gracious dreams
in you they live
through all your worst
war-walled nightmares
ghosts never leave
they set their intent
in all your torrid storms
to reach you, a compass set
before you, in all your southward stories
closer north than the distant pall
ghosts never leave
you hear them
in the undertow,
their wishful tone
of eternal wanting,
peace, and love
you hear
underneath the
incessant chatter
the white noise
of who is right
and who knows best
you listen to your heart, alone,
you hear,
a ghost
and its
constant call
ghosts never leave
they watch you
while you sleep
casting dreams
of their return
they wait for you
to wake,
to see
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
Easter Sunday, Sydney, Australia
Home
gvlm
“Faith requires following the power of a whisper”
pall
https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/pall
communion.
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/communion_1007994
The Lord's Prayer - in Aramaic + English Translation - https://youtu.be/KdXFIYug9HE
(The Lord's Prayer - in Aramaic + English Translation to be
played simultaneously with primary video (set on loop) -
285Hz + 432Hz + 639Hz - Physical Healing + Aura Cleanse + Open Heart Chakra - Through the Mist (II) -
https://youtu.be/KdXFIYug9HE)
He was howling at the moon,
it was mid June's heyday, she
was naive beyond reproach
her innocently lit chiaroscuro
made him hunger all the more,
til one day she let down her guard
'neath an impatient violaceous sky
drinking effervescently blissed wine
kissed him with rosé blushed lips
But his instincts betrayed him,
devouring the petite blossom
of her youth, teeth bared,
eyes glaring crimson, her stardust smile
no deterrent, appetite’s salacious intent,
stomach growling nocturnal desires,
claws scarring milk-paint skin
till groans released vibrations
felt ‘pon shadowed earth
shattering movements
ground-breaking momentum
sent horizons a' rocking
motioning to constellations
as they synchronously liquefied
tilting universes' on their axis
a little death's furtherance
uttering god's hallelujahs
lit beyond obscure sighs
Now two silhouettes,
midst harmonious moaning
echo upon auras' illusions
cresting lofty hilltops
can be seen this night and all others
when the skies turn dark
and celestial bodies' tumult
simultaneously ignite thunder,
diffusing smatterings' explicit
flight surrendered furthermost
heart-stricken otherworldly lovers
'Collaboration ~ Chris Green & Paloma'
Poetry on trial?
I’m going to indict poetry, for infecting my soul
Does it serve any purpose, or has it lost control
This may seem quiet strange, perhaps unorthodox
Peruse this if you will, whilst it’s head layeth on the block
No need for a foundation, build it in the clouds
But it does require structure, interwoven by shrouds
Mocks me with Humpty Dumpty, as my life falls to bits
Sends me down a path, of bifurcation and twists.
Yes poetry is stealthy, it attacks from every side
Attempting to outflank you, then pounces in surprise
Soon levity returns, it wants to chill you out
Where did this come from, shaketh your head in doubt.
Bow before it in deference, or leap into the sky
Cut to pieces on razor wire, see the birds that flyeth by
Pit Romeo and Lothario, in a competition of charms
Find a new born baby, dead in its mother’s arms.
Send shivers down ones spine, Hairs stand on your neck
Deal out a winning hand, then rearrange the deck
Be a photon of light, amongst trillions on our sun,
Reminisce ole times, when life beheld such fun.
Be scarred by it’s violence, Drawn into the mystique,
Blown away by the punchline, The havoc it can wreak
Drown in melancholy, or bathe in its delight
Overcome tragic heartbreak, awestruck by it’s might.
Empathize with the poor, in their cornucopia of dirt,
Curse the wealthy no better, in their hubris of self-worth,
Surrounded by loved ones, on your terminal breath,
Then Cryo-frozen in a machine, trying to forgo death.
So yes I’ve tried poetry, it was given a fair trial
Now to pass sentence, and do so, with some style
I condemn it to life, with no chance of parole
Simultaneously I grant pardon, for it’s me who lost control.
By
David Kavanagh
Crawling in the clouds
Lifting the limitless
Above the abandoned
Searching for sorrows
End…
We hope for honesty
Listen with lingering hope
Promising pumpkin pie
Towards the timid
Leaves…
Saving the sand-dollars
For making modern discs
Of flying frisbees
That float over favorite
Subjects…
Becoming the beautiful
Through hours of horrid
Darkness which destiny
Seems to evoke simultaneously
Open…
Where nature nurtures me
By its calming caring culture
And life honors the living
With Fall coming fervently
The end leaves subjects open…
Open!
Russell Sivey
the whole world is happening at the same time
every conversation, every bird call, every lion roar
every everything bunched up to oneness in my head
I carry the white noise of distance wherever I go
I am an out of tune radio coursing through debris
and tin whistle high notes playing one key in harmony
that is my head, that is my thunderstorm in stereo
imagine a life having to speak over an orchestra
but there is a beauty and stability to hearing
all the insects of the world crawling along
simultaneously with every wave and fish fuzz in water
wait, I think I can hear the flowers growing
the leaves falling, the sand rearranging on every beach
though if it can happen a little less loudly
so it doesn’t fill my every second, that would be ok
now, and it has taken sleeplessness,
I am privy to galactic secrets, the gods are chattering
all at once so I’m none the wiser for the cacophony
just full of loud