Best Soaks Poems
red rooftops appear to glow in rainy-day haze
lost in memories of pre-war bliss
she looks up to watch them bleed
pain is its own reward sometimes
better than the numbness
she so desperately seeks to leave behind
tiny poodle escorts her on La Rue de la Paix
peace has come to Paris at last
but in her heart, agony lingers
she heard the Fuhrer took his own life
cyanide and a bullet, too merciful for a demon
how her sweet Emil must have suffered in the death camp
his last gift to her, a red umbrella to offer shelter
at a time when he so direly needed protection
from horrific torture, starvation, gas chambers
footsteps behind her; she pivots, her poodle barks
what’s this? is rain playing tricks on her eyes?
he presses his lips on hers and she knows
yes, yes, these are Emil’s lips
still clad in a prisoner’s striped uniform, he holds her
she feels his ribs as they embrace
autumn rain soaks the fashion district near their home
while a violinist in a nearby café plays Chant des Partisans
overwhelmed, she wonders, is this a dream or is he home to stay?
*Written November 1, 2018
N/A in The Red Umbrella Contest
Contest judged that 11/13/2018
I could smell and sense
the showers coming in the air
with an approaching storm.
I inhale this
light little scent of heaven.
The rain will never dampen my spirits.
No umbrella for me tonight.
But, I don't mind,
I'll walk in the rain.
I savor this
sweet little taste of heaven.
The flavor is cool and refreshing,
with a purity
that is almost indescribable.
It is cleansing to my soul,
I can feel it
washing away my cares,
and making it okay to smile, again.
I experience this
gentle little caress of heaven.
When it soaks through
my jacket and my jeans.
My shoes splash
in the rain
with every step that I take.
I can hear it
tap dancing on the rooftops,
with invisible feet.
The streetlights
reflect on the wet pavement,
in pools of gold and silver.
The neon signs blink,
red and yellow,
blue and green.
Like drips of paint,
it puddles on the street.
Bringing color
to where there was none before,
only a flood of gray.
Now there is a palette
of fragrances to absorb.
Creating almost a rainbow
in the nighttime.
Written by: Kelly Deschler
November 11th, 2013
For Nette Onclaud's contest - "Fragrance Of Rain"
Introspection
suspends in dark blue amnion
as rainwater blooms a reflection pool
an oasis of energy for contemplative embryo;
in stillness I grow.. my pulse a flowing stream of raindrops
my body the rhythm maker
my mind the artiste
in a cocoon a rhythmic womb —
a primal nest gestates my om
b r e a t h i n g i n
b r e a t h i n g o u t
saturation of breath
soaks and stretches my cortex canvas;
within the indigo sphere
I paint a mural
upon my sacred temple walls
a self-portrait
with a benevolent brush dipped in starlight –
I surrender staying and portraying within the lines
uncaged colors roam
beyond my human extremities and Earth’s edge
gouache-plashes of teal and fuchsia
fraternize with fibers of flesh and marrow
conceiving abstracts as airy as sparrow dreams
as I - a mindful explorer flies an inner cosmos
beyond the confines of the canvas white
outside the frames of physicality and reality
to throw open window panes to the unlimited
to banish pains of the limited — free
my meditative spirit making art with the universe
Susan Ashley
September 7, 2022
~ Fifth Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 18
Sponsor: Mark Toney
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Brian Strand Premiere Choice
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Photo: The Seer; Laurie Bain Hamilton - owner of primalpainter
Courage held In heart of Lion
Celtic memory of ancient reunion
In arena of Death's bloody passion
Lion's fight for life the prize
Swords held high salute the Caesar
Two giants hold their swords down low
Back to back now Celtic Lions
The Caesar drops his mighty hand
As pipes they began churning tunes
lamenting sadness sails across oceans
eternal darkness envelopes grief
in victory a crowd roars kill
within lust rising a mob salute
Thoughts fall back to ancient homeland
Mighty Arrach sacred mound
Sun In golden light descending
Emerald green this sacred land
Professions of Love given
Warrior queen does take my hand
Peace and Love once In a Celtic land
From hibernia out of a mist
one lonely teddy bear at sea
dressed in her green attire
sparkling shades her jewels
caressing rocks at her feet
shores washed by the great atlantic
kissing white foam spray
Mighty mountains stand together
Weapons crashing thunders song
As enemies strong advancing to destroy a Celtic song
Yet heart sings eternal memory
Ancient pride Celts viper sting
Blood rising crowd passion
Cheering death In passions' thrall
Celts In storm of fight
Ancient memories golden passion comes
In Pride and honour
we are a fighting race of warriors
groomed in our mothers songs of freedom
sail a world over wild geese
defending with pride in great honor
strong our calling haunting deep waves
we are the children of a nation who cry
mourning in the spirit drunken sings out
in prayer kneeling down welcoming freedom
red flowing a river soaks battles soil
another fight one bites the dust
A Collaboration by Liam Mc Daid & Michael Clarke.
On a harbor of restless shore
she scans across the deepened waves,
to end pain’s grim just like before...
as necklace breaks, in chilled farewell.
By edge of evening, time races
with hope to drown in circling tides.
Not a chance to hold stars’ graces,
a wish tangled in poverty.
Big dipper heeds her whimper, faint
as dazzling light soaks in blue sea.
Until her child harks ,” Mom, have faith;
I'm here with you, through love’s glory.”
By questioning the bleak of life
her truth alights, now out of strife.
Suicide Prevention Month Contest
Sponsor: Laura Loo Rhyme-- Sonnet Form
Re-submitted 9/16/2017
as the rosemary rain
soaks
pensive petals,
leaving an aroma
of lovers’ betrayal
the succulent scent
of
his
petrichor skin
caresses the midnight
crevices of this
meticulous mind,
urging my soul to purge
tears and ink
long mimicked
by April’s sunlit rays
synchronizing
a symphony of robins
a rhapsody
of wild blooms
a chorus of dragonflies
a sprinkle
of swirling sakura
painting a panorama
of spring meadows
dancing to
the diamond glows
of stellar streaks...
and without the moon
I am an echo
of rhymeless clichés,
an abandoned prose
breathing amidst
porcelain pages
of mourning metaphors
aching to savor
confessions
of clemency....
for heart feels numb
to the
b u r n
of being forgotten
as storms taste
softer than sunrise~
and in
s i l e n c e,
I rise....
"That Place"
In that place where you were abandoned,
that place, they never thought, you’d come back from,
in that place where it is believed nothing grows
in the long night’s tortured darkness, deep down, well,
a spark lit something quite quiet, far removed and forgotten,
and now it grows rapidly, coiling inside,
snaking sharp-edged like mother’s tongue root
it transmits something alive, something like love,
its veins drawing back in again a loquacious life,
the moisture from tears, a necessary nourishment
from the lake of disbelief, betrayal, trauma and grief,
a bless'ed blooming in disguise,
the succulent luscious life those all important tears gift;
what spreads from the darkness and its erratic reach,
calling into it all embers of ethereal light? Now ultra-lit,
some revolutionary reincarnation arrives back from the dead,
it soaks the unseen light up greedily, for it is extraordinarily hungry,
to taste if but just a drop of sunshine in the glory of forever and ever,
this is what it dreams when it sleeps;
after the amen, hibernation,
it grows and it spreads robust, rigorous (not necessarily), yet,
like a beautiful irregular disease, there is no turning back
once the light kisses it and it has a taste for life,
it goes looking for some kinder heaven;
yes, this is accurate, I do believe -
from nothing something blooms
from nothing, the arrival, awake,
life lessons learned,
what is poor, and what is rich,
what is true and untrue
Candide Diderot. '24
Urgent Call for Love
The evil axis has been burning
Who rules the land? It’s now very vague.
The second son must get out of old Al Sham
And meet the hungry jury in The Hague
The puppet is hanging by his last string
And the judgment day is sure to come
Forty thousand martyrs will be singing
As they join me in my urgent call for love.
The war machine is pregnant and is bloated.
Money births an icy, rigid son.
He grows up in the muck of all this madness,
It arms its addled brother with a gun.
In my world, war is not an option,
Let’s end the chaos with a silken glove
Murdered angels soar among the heavens
Please join me, in my urgent call for love.
I’d love to build a mass market dart board
With mug shots of the Senators and House
I’d load it on an App and shoot the darts off
With the quiet, perfect clicking of my mouse.
How can these servants bow before their master?
When Moses had already freed his tethered load?
Make them testify before the one judge
And answer to our urgent call for love
Some years ago a scholar lost his lectern
Because somebody stole my vote away
He spoke his truth in defense of climate
And was told let’s fix it later, not today
When the perfect storm came a calling
It blew our measured lives and hopes astray
My Mother, here’s an olive branch and white dove
I surrender to the urgent call for love.
The pleading skies and rivers, they have warned us
Their voices rose to wail their tortured song
The veins of life, they have been all corrupted
And darkness has been blinding us in fog.
Insanity bathes in its make shift chambers
It soaks in a vile and filthy marble tub.
Please join in my call for our salvation,
I am humbled, in my urgent call for love.
Brenda Atry 1/1/2013 copyright pending
The light soaks the soul
Taken beyond physical
Earth, sky become one.
Fate
knew best,
as fingers
intertwined souls
weaving…bringing elements together
A patch of soil, a whisper in the wind
a blackened storm,
wish ablaze--
finding
love
~***~
Earth
embraced
slumbered seed
nurturing it
making room for it, and letting it grow
Through the years, this tree stood steadfast…solid
rooted deeply
yet pliant,
humbly
strong
Air
carries
tall tree’s wish
soars, touches stars
that whisper to the Heavens, blow kisses
Leaves dance, flirt with breeze in constant motion
seasons fly on,
lives pass by,
granted
wish
Rain
water:
a blessing,
tree soaks it in
never drowning, drinking in happiness
Its wood sails in the sea of memories,
waves then crash in
until it
reaches
shore
Flames
burn free,
fire licks...feels,
ravages wood.
Tree’s ultimate sacrifice, exhausted
Glowing embers now remain, gives soft light
just the right heat,
warming souls
that need
it
~***~
He
was that
awesome tree.
He always said,
"You are elementary in my life."
It is only now that I understand…
I was his Earth.
Air. Water.
Fire--Light.
Love.
--for Chris' Double the Fun~ (Tetractys) contest--
Beautiful, burnished, brilliant
Yet, my ink friendly inclinations produce a chemical discrepancy
And now, you come – Artist
Scratching, on my polished mental plate
Do not blacken me with your fumigating candle
Do not soak me in your acidic bath
Yet, here you are, sketching to leave your design
Ever so lightly, you etch, carefully, penetrating
Acid soaks into your carefully drawn lines
The depth of your influence is varied
Teasing a relief by removing your blackened wax
Only to soak me in your iniquitous ink
Here, I must bring it an end. I must stop you - Artist
I must cleanse my mental plate
Chasten long and purposed for that original surface
Until a polished steel-plated revelation
Yes, there, beautiful, burnished, brilliant…perfect, if not for
Your Latin radere
The etchings of your needle
The stain of your ink in my serrations
My effort seems wasted
The vestiges of your ink tainting all that I touch
Now, everything has your art
Like wetted paper onto my mental plate
I came across a Jumpher
A jumphin’ up at me.
It wasn’t very springy
As far as i could see.
It tried to do someothersault,
Impressing like a tree,
But landed with a thumping thud
And hurt his only knee.
‘How come you like to ravel so?’
I bellied like a navel,
While on the other hand i plied
Some custard on a table.
‘I’m only giving all I’ve got-
A hundred miles an hour.
But if you take it at a trot
It soaks you with a shower.
‘I see,’ i said, came out my head,
And nodding fully clothed,
I asked if he’d seen Ninnynook?
A nose that knows no prose.
‘I likes to smell his gravy soup.’
He jumphered like a sweater,
Then driving like a five wheeled horse
Left home wrapped in a letter.
‘Good luck, you leaphing lunging loon.’
I mouthed in Granny’s gums
Then smiling like a holiday
I went to see my chums.
For the love of Lippy I've done it all...
And I would do it all again
For my heart, for my joy, for my friend
Oh what a world you got me into!
Some days so long and hard, I thought I'd never make it through
Except for knowing that at the end of the day, I could spend some time with you
We weathered the disasters and wrong choices... mostly mine
But we've reveled in our successes, in our friendship and in our time
So many places, so many changes, what a life we've shared
You've done what I've asked, you've mastered your tasks
And for you I will always be there... as you have been there for me
When my mind is blood red and my heart is stone gray
You stand before me pure white
And your mane dries my tears and your coat soaks in my sorrows
And your eyes always reveal "The Light"
Given to each other by one greater than us who knew what we both would need
Never a truer companionship than with you my faithful steed!
From long lazy rides in lush green fields on warm bright summer days
To tranquil wooded trails and dusty old roads, you've carried me all the way
You saved my heart, you saved my mind, you saved me from it all
And I owe you my life, I owe you the world for answering my call
For you I do it all...
Always in my heart I know you'll be, no matter what time brings
For it cannot separate two spirits joined
Or the memories that make their hearts sing
Together we answered the call
For you my wonderful friend... I did it all
-Alias Pluto Lela
Lipizzan registry #XL007
2-12-81 to 2-9-13 -served as therapeutic riding horse
The garden bursting with the green of spring
Each bud and leaf have promises to keep
New life this emerging season brings
In summer the warmth soaks elbow deep
The fish jump high and living is sweet
Full of summer love we drift to sleep
Now fall colors go dancing round our feet
Days of harvest before we watch geese fly
With some regret the waning days we greet
Winter arrives, with frosty breath it sighs
Thoughts turn inward, days pass one by one
WE hear music of the north wind's lonesome cry
Then at last another year is closed and done
and we greet the rise of a springtime sun
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