Best Spiral Poems
Sipping the
Poisoned, dark
Inky medicine..
I am Remiscent of a
strange Alchemy
silently lulLing the
unsuspecting Lovers
surreptitiously Into the twisty,
snakey, turNy underworld of
Gnarly trees and
rootS that writhe to
triP the unwary heart.
a pastIche of memory that
Reminds of
Alluring all
the Lost souls
sLowly
Into the
Nocturnal
Gaze of the
omniScient
ever Present,
ever lovIng
fatheR and creator
of All things;
indeLible,
everLasting,
consIstently
eNgaged for
Goodness
sacred life…
mortal as a seashell
cradled and designed by divine hands
swept by tides
over the waves of chance
phosphorescence under tender skies
hidden souls
within a spiral core
with lore of an ocean at thy breast
soft landings
upon the shoals of time
'till nestled in the palm of God’s hand
~~~~~~~~~~
Oh haste, brumal mists, that twilight kisses
on hollyhocks, meadow-born,
Sweet tears resurrected on petals neglected,
collect 'midst the early morn.
The dew-christened flowers parading the hours,
sing hope to the callow hearts,
Then rises the moon, while it saunters to swoon
and the ballet of eventide starts.
Tall grasses that thrive with new life, come alive
with a shimmer of luminous lights,
A slow-spinning dance of glowing romance,
that July has thus gifted its nights.
A heavens' breast lighted by stars, unrequited,
sets stage on the vault, above -
Night's magic, gone viral, as fireflies spiral ...
in a whimsical waltz ... of love!
~ 8th Place ~ in the "Spiral" Poetry Contest, Kai Michael Neumann, Judge & Sponsor.
the spiral staircase
leads to Anabella's room
dark spider webs dust
Robert Hooke caused quite a commotion
In the academic ocean
When in spite of his Gown
With a lady of the Town
He enjoyed simple harmonic motion
Not before had he seemed so spry
That nobody could deny
He’d a verve and a pep
And a spring in his step
As he walked along the High
Thus out of his indiscretion
That made such a lasting impression
He cognised and saw
There must be a law
Of extension and compression
Tilted nipple, lend
Your acquiescent ballast
To rotate earths breast
Referring to the “Milky Way”
_____________________
*Inspired by Raul Moreno's
Nature's Best Contest
The spiral staircase made her high heels sing
A sound that had an old farmilar ring
That echoed through the chambers of her mind
Growing louder with every stair she climbed.
She'd climberd these stairs a thousand times before
And knocked upon that old forbidden door
Convinced each time she'd never come again
But here she was with all her rage unchained.
From here the city churches pierced the mist
Witness to their first sinful, blissful kiss
And every sin they'd laid behind that door
Where her lust and conscience constantly waged war.
. . .
From a jewellery store...he stepped into the night
He'd convince her once again...he'd leave his wife
In a box.. a diamond ring...shaped like a pear
He closed it..and now smiling...crossed the square.
. . .
For many years she'd swallowed...all his lies
But tonight...she would finally...sever all ties
With a knife...stained with all the tears she cried.
Written: May 14th, 2018
Author: Elaine Cecelia George of Canada
She sees herself suddenly as a small girl
bare feet on the cold black and white tile
little toes curled
sees the white porcelain tub and
how pretty the light blue water was
so deep it almost came to her chin
as she climbed in
For hours she'd play with her dime store sailboat
loving it though it would hardly float
always taking on water
listing, never level
her wet skinny back hunched over
shoulder blades like primordial wings
every few minutes she'd have to shake the thing
Trying desperately not to break the spell
of pretend
and when
it was time to let the water out
she'd always stay to watch the water drain
weighing the emotional pain
both fascinated and horrified,
as the suction intensified,
by the force of the water
the unstoppable slaughter
waiting for the inevitable rotation
to begin
the dizzying spin
Slowly at first growing faster and faster
a miniature cyclonic water disaster
The dime store boat of course on its side
circling faster in the relentless tide
Then the drain would give a horrible belch
much satisfied with itself.
As she grew the tub got smaller
with shallower water
less and less room
for pretend to bloom.
Years later, dime store sailboat long forgotten,
life having been mostly rotten
working with the most cynical of cynics
ER nurses bitter that it's more like a clinic
runny noses and coughs that folks thought were urgent
working hard to save those who were truly emergent
Hearing from them the phrase: "circling the drain"
memories suddenly flooding the brain
almost able to feel herself as that young girl
watching the sailboat beginning to swirl
Feeling the blood drain, face going pale
she sees vividly the boat with its bright red sail
yellow hull and blue plastic deck
fine hairs rising on the back of her neck
She realizes now the fatigue of age
is from fighting the pull with defiant rage
The closer you get, the faster you spin
and soon the dark whirlpool draws you in
With a knowledge that seems to be purely primal
she now understands the downward spiral
And she knows that she will not put up a fight
she'd rather go silently in the dark of the night
And the dime store boat comes to rest on its side
so it's all come full circle at the end of the ride.
SADNESS
©Danielle White
SPIRAL EXPLOSIONS
Spirals
of sweet explode
brushing soft against curves
exquisitely mild like falling
teardrops.
________________________________
1:23 PM, June 06, 2015
"The Warm Downward Spiral"
"You’re a warm spoon
I’m hot honey."
he says,
"I know you are"
Ah, the warm welcome
downward spiral
The beautiful madness
takes hold
here in my room
with my
Incubus
love is a verb
spooning hot
honey
over
Blind Man
who now turns
he’s not running
Writes his story
on my pages
with his hands
bold kisses that burn
leaves rustling words
whispering over
pages of skin
Life’s luscious lips
burn their blistering
imprint
I run my finger
down his spine
I place my mark
to save that page
to read over again
and again
He’s a book not yet
fully read,
he’s a story in rough draft
progress yet to be written
sans edit
bold font
never ending
A loose mystery
bookmarked and bound
tight with Red ribbon
(LadyLabyrinth/2018)
“There are two ways to reach me: by way of kisses or by way of the imagination. But there is a hierarchy: the kisses alone don't work.”
Anaïs Nin
"Here in My Room", Incubus
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0IlPlKBXRHE
The spiral staircase of life well defines
if hair is red and eyes are colored gray.
It is a twisted lattice we can’t climb,
the mystery of cells called DNA.
Each rung within the spiral carries data,
so important to the chromosomal cell
a roadmap to the now and then the later.
A microscopic story it will tell.
A double helix work of godly art
composed of molecules and acids,
genetic program for the mind and heart
alongside proteins and lipids.
It truly is the spiral of all spirals
in that without it, we’d have no life at all.
It is proof we are walking, living miracles
and our DNA has histories to recall.
6/16/20
'Spiral' Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann
spiral galaxy
chasm of infinity
black holes bridge the gap
For the contest: Haiku Beyond
Sponsored by Rick Parise
The Downward Spiral of Addictions
by Shirley Rebstock 4/17/2015
Ahh the sip of fantasy, passion, your Heaven
Sweet kiss of deceiving love drawing you
My warm embrace will hug you, squeeze you til death
You will laugh, yes you will laugh until you cannot stop crying
Friends will join you on this merry-go-round of glee
If that is fun, how much more the roller coaster
Calmness, slowly creeping upward then, Bam, racing downward
So fast can barely see
Some get off saying that is enough fun, others like you continue the ride
Spinning out of control like a tornado
Leaving a path of destruction of hearts and minds of those loved
Who flee in despair
Some go with you in your desire to destroy self and ease your pain
Tomorrow you say, all will be well, you will be well
For today, ahh another sip of your true love, your fantasy, your passion
Your Hell
Having loved and worked with people with addictions, I have seen wonderful talented people lose their life and happiness due to this enemy.
God created people to worship and have fellowship with Him, so everyone worships someone or something. If we forget the God who created us, we will run
after false gods or demons. Deuteronomy 32: 15-18 and Ephesians 5:18-19, “Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead be filled with the Holy Spirit. “ With God all things are possible, even freedom from addictions.
PS: When I first wrote this poem and read to my grown son, his response was, " All right, all right Mom, I'll stop eating so many cheeseburgers."
Change of weather
Hot and cold intersect;
Sun and rain dance
~~~~~~~~~
Sunburst sparkle
Sudden drizzle falls;
Rainbow concession
~~~~~~~~~
By this corner bench
I watch hurrying feet;
Tempo of workday
~~~~~~~~~
City dwellers each
Rushing everywhere;
Looking not seeing
~~~~~~~~~
Post Office queue
Special delivery;
Fresh currency notes
~~~~~~~~~
Chinese New Year festival
Feasting and Red Packets;
Auspicious money gifts
~~~~~~~~~
Here beyond stress
Calm resolution;
More on the way
~~~~~~~~~
Rest and relax
What's there to tax?
Sit with sure slack
~~~~~~~~~
All in good time
Change seeds plenty;
Fortune cookie delights
~~~~~~~~~
Food court offerings
Too much choice;
Unsure appetite
~~~~~~~~~
The moments stream
Insight comes late;
Throw of dice chance
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
05 February 2015
Singapore
depression reduces me down to my knees,
cant seem to see the woods for the trees.
Allways on edge with a sence of tension,
paranoid thaughts to vast to mention.
Inside my head my mind runs riot,
allthough i percive a charictor of quiet,
forever picking faults with ones self,
a deteriation of my mental health.
to punish myself i began to self harm,
rape my exsistance and cut my arm.
latching onto any act of kindness,
but vunverbility insuing blindness.
looking for love in all the wrong places,
hiding behind so many false faces.
a losing side of a game of chess,
more frustration as im trying my best.
looking at life as a glass half empty,
while reviwing others lfes resentfully.
Alienating myself from human traffic,
isolating for months its that dramatic.
Everdecresing downward slide,
but this is no funfair ride.