Best Slanting Poems
the raspy whisper
finally
gets my full attention -
wistfully I smile
..for its persistence reminds me of you..
the crisp red leaf
scuttles scrapingly
across the gray pavement
to and fro
like a dancing crab
moving with the whims of the winds
chasing me
as it seemed like I had once chased my dreams;
blown in directions left up to chance
..until I met you..
..is it now, as it was then
Destiny?
for in this instant, my sense of direction
seems predestined..
a smoky scent
spices the chilled blue air
reminding me of our cozy nights
curled with the fire
..entranced
as we were
with our warmth
and our flame..
could it be
love signals from the hearth
calling me home..?
..my soul
feels akin to the red leaf,
the wafting smoke
and I am ready to follow..
Would the cold atmosphere be so cruel
as to play capricious tricks upon my eyes... or
..is that really
YOU
standing there..?
Oh!
my beloved,
how my broken spirit
has suffered
in my pining desire to be with you -
I run to you!
years of yearning prayers answered
fingertips straining - stretching further
reaching out to touch you,
the whole of my being aching
to hold you and enfold you
..ah, I feel your heat
so very close to me..
Alas!
I fall to my knees,
my arms empty
but for the loss I carry..
your warm breath
on the nape of my neck
only my hot want
brewed with a cool wisp of the breeze
..Oh, God! Please!
just let it be
let me go..!
my forsaken flame less than a dying ember;
I but ashes in my grief
withered
in my autumn season
without you
still...
I’m slow to realize...
that your fading glow just the sun slanting low
blurring wicked whimsy with my wild sorrow
in the burning of these bitter tears.
Susan Ashley
December 2, 2018
~ First Place ~
Contest: NA the day away
Sponsor: Lu Loo
*N/A’d: Best Free Verse 2019 Poetry Contest*
~ Honorable Mention ~
Contest: Your Choice (2) Any Theme, Form
Sponsor: Brian Strand
~ Poem Of The Day ~
December 4, 2018
Categories:
slanting, death, emotions, grief, heartbroken,
Form:
Free verse
I see you ‘cross the vast expanse,
a love disguised in dreamy whirl
and clothed in raiment sun-spun gold
as wispy cirrus wraps your dance
the music of your sigh aswirl -
a breeze I feel but cannot hold,
but dance I will with memories
though for your arms I’ll ever pine,
I look to skies for bluest eyes
at times behind the tapestries
of cumulus both yours and mine –
the realm in which my angel flies.
Our love so like the lilac leaf
two halves that shared a center vein,
once green we were but now I fade
I’m torn in half without relief
the pain not washed away by rain —
this heart-shaped leaf afraid and frayed.
O touch me warm your slanting rays
how cold my soul you left behind,
to gaze through tears at beauty high
to wander through the haze of days
and know the planets misaligned —
when eyes of turquoise dyed the sky.
Alas, myself but cosmic dust
yet still, the stardust gilts the rust.
Categories:
slanting, beauty, death, grief, longing,
Form:
Lyric
In moments of twilight civility
an exchange of gifts -
darkness for light..
RISING
from beyond the softening silhouette edge
you brighten like a blushing damsel
hazy haloed
unabashed in the pleasure of ripening
daydreamer
...a vivid blur of lemon drop...
veiled by a wispy fanfare of mares’ tails
windswept forth in pinkened pageantry
heralding the maturing marmalade horizon -
arousing a drowsing periwinkle sky
your prosperous glow casts a molten net of gold
slanting low across the ebb and flow
igniting the imagination
- agleam with peachy dreams -
of just-waking waters
while catching fire-tipped riffles;
rubies gathered ride the tide to the coastline
glamorizing the washed still-sleepy seaward sand
saturated in the rose-colored nectar
of your generous nature ~
Susan Ashley
October 13, 2018
*Mare’s tail: a long narrow cirrus cloud whose flowing appearance somewhat resembles a horse’s tail, often indicating high winds in the upper troposphere.*
Categories:
slanting, appreciation, beauty, imagery, morning,
Form:
Free verse
I was a planetary climatologist, who studied climate variability and change,
Like sweet variability of stunning, green tulips, in lavish garden rearranged.
Studying the said effects on the biosphere, absorbed so many daily hours,
Like industrious days of fragrant, amber honey, after tumbling into flowers.
My labors impacted energy usage, along with food production and health,
And the survival of endangered species, like golden rays of natural wealth.
Faddish flowers fascinated friends, who flattered them, at my broad fence,
Under fleecy, lemony clouds, fast moving, and orange sun, grown intense.
Famished, feasible family feasted, in lavish flowering fragrance of Fridays,
When fugitive, frosty stars flickered, winking at green garden bonsai trees.
I lived in the house of emerald echoes, in vivid memory of nature's sound,
From birdsong to crickets to evening wind, and brook of babbling renown.
Sachets swept away a sudden sadness, as robins sought another summer,
On my street of starry-eyed forget me nots, like a tune with no drummer.
Nobody knew latest neighborhood news, like my nearest friends next door,
Like chameleon sun, crisscrossing teal sky, wholly ignorant of 'nevermore.'
Pink birds were living high, and red butterflies viewed a world, ultraviolet;
And yellow bees went about their sweet labors, since queen bee desired it.
Strawberry clouds sailed around the world, for clouds ever love adventure,
As dogwoods barked in summer's dog days, during a gold noon surrender.
As I was walking home one day, the sun vanished as skies turned ominous.
There was a lightning flash just before the thunder, loud and cacophonous!
Suddenly, I saw a male face in the clouds, that was bellowing and enraged,
Like blizzard winds through naked trees, howling at a lush year that's aged.
Taken aback, like butterflies in gusts, I had come face to face with thunder-
The mighty, furious face of the storm, and I was filled with sudden wonder!
Then came the silver rains, sideways slanting, at the dead end of drought;
And I raced home like all uneasy nature, in the successive hours of doubt.
Scintillating sun had returned next day, after banishing the tangerine mist,
As benevolent nature was no more angry, its tale ending in an orange twist!
Categories:
slanting, fantasy, flower, imagery, nature,
Form:
Couplet
Between paper-soft
worlds of fragile
imaginations,
I float upon those
gossamer tulips
that split every
second of saccharine
musings and
eclipsed confessions,
distinguishing all
photoelectric synonyms
of lachrymose
stimuli towards
glassy manipulations
of blood-fragranced sun.
Everything that is
sown in sweetened
textures of afterglow-soil,
always blossoms upon
decayed fossils of
frivolous fates, as
balanced bullets have
forever pierced
through the pulpy
sheaths of nature's
rainbow-blankets,
but their aged roots
always adorn nourishing
gemstones of
ephemeral healing,
to spread their wise
branches across earth's
mirrors, as the thin
veil disappears.
What is the raven-spade
-hearted impulse
without its nascent yet
succulently flowing
snow-white mist?
What if, reality speaks
of those skies smitten with
hypnotic illusions of
chess-shaped horizons?
Have yin and yang ever
repelled each other's
rusty-maroon notes
that they whisper in
immortal prelude?
We have remained
skillfully blindfolded to
the isles of inceptions,
swirling amidst ripples
of diamond-kismet
estuaries, washing away
consciences with
diplomatic dewdrops
of frosty maple fog.
Tending to forget that,
we are mere syzygy knights,
crawling along
slanting seesaws as
bioluminescent bishops.
Our schizophrenic
threads have been
tied to the aroma of
poisoned satin within
these final alphabets of
enchante´ epitaphs,
where life will be
the last organ grinder
of karma, playing
an evanescent checkmate
which shall ascend
every soulful spirit
beyond Persephone's
penumbral embrace.
Categories:
slanting, dark, deep, destiny, meaningful,
Form:
Free verse
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
Categories:
slanting, sensual, sexy,
Form:
Free verse
The hutch
like everything else in this house is
crooked. A slanting hardwood floor
and the burnished ends
of an ancient table.
An ever rounding table
"a table with history" she says,
a lineage with the cut
and lineaments
of the eight-score man who built it.
The eerie, beautiful portrait
of some great- great- great-
someone-or-other
hangs so solemnly with Victorian grace
the nail has begun to bend,
but she will never fall.
One cabinet for the silver
and wine glasses
has been painted triple-white
and sunk into the wall like a safe.
Its shelves boiled clean
to hide their ignoble wood
(probably pine).
Not like the Oak left bare-
the smell and musk
of those dark hand-hewn ceiling beams
and the redolence
from somewhere behind the house
of deep-purple lilacs
growing fat like grapes.
Outside, the painted gardens swirl together
in a dizzying carousel of color and light
with short, fat brush strokes
and heavy, bold shadows;
the flowers burn from the healthy soil
replacing sand from ten years ago.
200 bags of fertilizer and now:
A nightgowned woman plays firefighter
every morning with a green hose,
keeping up with the investment.
Categories:
slanting, family, people, places, house,
Form:
Who can know the mysterious
ways of the clouds?
They travel in white whipped masses
and gather like solemn pinnacles
looking upwards in reverent penitence.
Silent clouds slowly form and move about
like floating fields in a heavenly marsh
or like soft suspended pillows
making themselves vulnerable
to the temperamental ways of the wind.
Sometimes they seem almost helpless
as they wander in a ghost like state
like wastrels, weighed down
by the prospect of an impending storm.
The yawning blue sky
has become quickly overwhelmed
by clouds’ alluring apertures.
Now they collectively amass
in billowing silence
crowding the vast
sweeping hemisphere.
Slanting sunlight breaks forth
to spar with clouds’ menacing shadows
that threaten to overtake the light
like competing shadow puppets
during a midday matinee.
Clouds are endlessly breathtaking
and appear seemingly mute
except for faint whispers from the winds
as if time stopped to hold its breath
within the boundaries of earth and sky.
4/18/2023
Categories:
slanting, beauty, earth, sky,
Form:
Free verse
Today, meandering through the clutter of the local antique store,
I almost tripped and fell over an object partially hidden on the floor!
My hands came to rest on an old-fashioned school desk sitting there.
It reminded me of the one I occupied in my school days, I do declare!
My thoughts drifted back through the misty past to reminisce and ponder.
As I caressed its oaken surface with my fingers, I began to wonder.
Did it once grace a simple one-room prairie schoolhouse in Indiana?
Might it have come from a rustic schoolroom in the state of Montana?
The slanting top of the old desk was scratched and with ink was stained.
I saw faint initials carved by an idle lad whose attention span had waned!
The varnish was worn off the folding seat by many a squirming kid.
Wads of chewing gum still adorned the underside of the folding lid!
I recalled sitting at one of those uncomfortable desks trying to stay awake!
As Miss Ruth droned on and on, all I could think of was the recess break!
The room reeked of oranges and fried egg sandwiches we'd bring to munch.
Kids of means paid a dime to eat finer fare in the lunchroom for their lunch!
I recalled the thwack on my knuckles of Miss Ruth's ruler to get my attention,
And what awaited me at home for misbehavior with growing apprehension!
(A clerk noting my glazed eyes asked, "May I help you sir? Is anything amiss?"
"Nah", I replied. "If you please, I'd like to stand here awhile and reminisce!")
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Categories:
slanting, nostalgia, school, school, me,
Form:
Rhyme
through venetian blinds
slanting beams of light peep in
where she sits alone
reminiscing in silence
hoping that the bell would ring
----------------------------------
25th March, 2015
Contest: Tanka 3
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Categories:
slanting, loneliness, old,
Form:
Tanka
Deeper still the Woodland calls me
Further yet, she lures, enthralls me
Hapless I, with charms she hauls me
To her unknown hinterlands.
Up, I see the forest giants
Standing tall in self-reliance
Ancient, gnarled, in defiance
Weathering the winter's hands.
Down, I see leaves, fallen, floating
To which place, they are unknowing
In the streamlet's eddies flowing
Dancing to an ageless tune.
Further on, I gaze in wonder
As a river falls in thunder
Misting torrents cascade under
Slanting rays of afternoon.
Scattered rocks are graced with flowers
Breathing in perennial showers
On the brink of Nature's towers
Far above the bustling towns.
Never could an earthly City
Paint a picture half so pretty
Not could sing such lovely ditty
As the Woodland's captive sounds.
In my ear they whisper softly
Whistling bird and peaks so lofty
"Whither went, and for what sought ye
When ye left this tangled space?
For ye find here scenes of splendour
Vistas grande in awesome grandeur
Rugged views they be, or tender
Never could ye leave this place"
For to me she is appealing
I and she, both glances stealing
Lost in unknown depths of feeling
As I see her changing face.
Far from wild clamour ringing
I can hear the crickets singing
See the points of starlight gleaming.
Never would I leave this place.
Categories:
slanting, bird, imagery, mountains, nature,
Form:
Personification
Sagan grins from a Pale Blue Dot
As LCROSS finds water in Cabeus.
Is Su Shih's bright moon finally told --
Echoed by Dickinson's moon of gold?
Did Armstrong sit in contemplation
O'er cheesy man-in-the-moon inspiration
By Yeats, Coleridge, Thomas (Dylan) and Shelley;
Li Po, Longfellow, Whitman and Lindsay?
Under Moore's young moon of May we're planting
Bamboo groves in moonbeams slanting.
Moonrise to moonset, across dead rivers --
Elvis and Emily share moon-rock shivers.
To Sandburg's moon of harvest silver,
Wells used Cavorite (but just a sliver).
Now, listen as the Selonites motion --
Whispering of Earth and its teeming blue ocean.
While I, wild moon-child, begin to spool
By the light of Merritt's Lovecraftian Pool:
"Moon-water shall be the death of me
This year."
Categories:
slanting, moon, poetry, science, science
Form:
Quatrain
The unknown of "WHAT IFS"
Sets the mind into confusions
It twirls and twists into knots
and explodes into madness... Walking
like a zombie,
Heartless of emotions but walking aimlessly
to the Never Never Land of unknown!
Seducing your mind with beautiful dreams
A sweet grin soften up your face
The hunger in your heart is near damn as high as the sky goes
your hopes rises even for the trickiest
fool of the perfect illusion in the shadows.
You reach out to grasp on the rainbow so beautifully slanting above you
only to be graciously disheartened;
yet again!
Down fall you go
swimming in your pool of tears
and the wonders of it all
"WHAT IFS"
Strutting out as if to open a freak-show... Smile!
Written by; Akkina R Downing
09/24/16
Categories:
slanting, dark, dream,
Form:
Free verse
Saffron sun shone brightly, though it was a rainy day,
And varicolored umbrellas were up, in wild vivid array.
All shades were abloom, on the beautiful Dahlia Avenue,
And smiles were seen, in slanting rain of silvery hue!
Such mellow yellow gold, out of violet midnight dreams-
Like the heart of motley autumn, wearing spring greens!
Written on May 18, 2021
For: Charm me ~ Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Categories:
slanting, beautiful, color, flower, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
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
Categories:
slanting, mystery,
Form:
Narrative