Best Stairways Poems
Let me run again,
through the tall, amber grass,
where sunbeams slope like stairways,
and where tomorrow waits,
at the top of the stairs.
____________________________________________________
1/8/15 For the contest sponsored by Nette Onclaud "Somewhere"
By Carrie Richards (30 syllables)
Somewhere in the pretty petty imaginary illusion of delusion
There lies a truth an edifice of search between obtuse confusion
Windows like brick walls and concrete blocks birthing the light
Nails to be nailed screws to be screwed with monumental sight
A life a building fortress sand castle beach hut nutter’s dream
Maybe a prison with towers barbed wire fences mindful scream
Some multi storied paradise no choke on apple’s stem or core
No passion fruit in torture chambers shackles behind and to the fore
No hidden attic and no cellar no stellar fantasy no quick descent
For now simply one dimension deserted plain hopes to ferment
Scraping no skies a cave hovel card board box a bombed out grave
Nothing to hold onto no graces left spent and ravished naught to save
Is it magic thought provoked delusion of illusion alluded distortion
Who knows does it matter I suppose it does in incomplete reapportion
Some are born in a manger on the fields of labour some with a silver spoon
Surely some would rather have foundations a ceiling not some lonely moon
Get me not wrong as singing the praises of romantic poverty and dearth
Icy cold and freezing bones do not bear up to sound safe privilege in birth
Yet from the scraping nib and luxury of pen in hand and philosophic mind
Not wishing to lack compassion nor cementing over cracks so misaligned
We are the builders of our lives to some extent despite the vagaries so vast
Can we find a staircase upwards some sliding pole to reach out for the past
In such compassion regardless of painful structures and abandoned need
Is some notion some motion of change and nourishment star dust to feed
In God we trust nihilism architecture Karma fate Nirvana hard core grind?
No valid answers but questions loving search for quiet mindfulness in kind
imagine any haunted house to have:
Creaking stairways
Whispering blinds
Creepy doorways
Blood-curdling sounds
Spooky cob-webs
Ominous darkness
Ghastly shadows
Dreadful loneliness
Spine tingling shrieks
Owls hooting
Things that make
Your skin crawl
Foreboding terror
An eerie silence
yet squeaky rats
A threatening suspense
with fluttering bats.
Thus a place crawling with,
oversized gnats
scurrying brats
and all kinds of scary things lurking about
except for scaredy-cats .
Like me of the fraidy cats
Tell me would you dare to venture
Into such a house
For a halloweenish midnight adventure ?
(Ok happened to pass an allegedly haunted abandoned house that most people don't want to venture in and I enjoyed scarifying myself thinking about it in the poetic way above for fun)
YIKES, I'M ALREADY SCARED.!
potpourri of wreaths
splatter night rhinestones with aisles
of gold cashmere talc,
stairways of herons ascend
* sky flooding autumn light bulbs
heaven drips of earth's
elegance, drops of fern boughs
collect hands calmly
chiming psalms of fall's remains *
a mantle bathed by wet stars
(c)Contest of Brian Strand
I implore you a race to the top floor
where every other candidate has won.
The stairways and elevator jammed
with all the top placers, second sucks
and third place has passed out on the bottom floor.
(I jest, of course, having judged. My gavel plunged
as deep into the heart as any other. And yet I’ve loved
each read, deeply sipped the wordy tea.)
When Yesterday's Ghost Rises From Its Grave,
4th poem, From my blog, A Quartet Of Poems
(4.)
When Yesterday's Ghost Rises From Its Grave,
(4th poem, From my blog, A Quartet Of Poems)
When yesterday's ghost rises from its grave
telling your dastardly sins to behave
can that midnight hour your spirit then feel
poison arrows in your Achilles heel
slow melting marrows in your weeping bones
transcendence in your heartbreaking tones?
O'tell me that torture, how does it pain
Will your rebellion ever let you be sane?
In cold dark that your lost soul too oft plays
sorrows born 'neath Heaven's pleading stairways
can new Life and Love your agony heal
or with devil's oath you dare make a deal,
fast drying tears spat upon cracked sidewalks
crimes with Mother Nature you dare not talk!
O'tell me that torture, how does it pain
Will your rebellion ever let you be sane?
When yesterday's ghost rises from its grave
telling your dastardly sins to behave
can that midnight hour your spirit then feel
poison arrows in your Achilles heel
those melting marrows in your weeping bones
transcendence in your heartbreaking tones?
O'tell me that torture, how does it pain
Will your rebellion ever let you be sane?
Robert J. Lindley, 5-13-2020
Rhyme, Stepping From That Mountain,
Fleeing From That Cold, Dark Abyss.....
Castles it always seems
Bring nightmares, instead of sweet dreams.
So to turn that somehow around
Making it glass would be most profound.
Everything clear and bright as the sun
No tiny dark corners that will make me run.
Stairways that spiral all the way to the top
Spacious and clean, not dampened with rot.
A home in which one can roam unafraid
No shadows among when the sun finally fades.
One can see in and one can see out
If your a friend, you'll never have doubt.
That once your inside, your welcomed to stay
As long as you'd like, a week or a day.
For this castle will be place that loves
That lives and laughs and cries with doves.
This home will welcome any soul indeed
That toils and frets and cries with plead.
To be taken in and fed with grace
To lighten Your load
It accepts any race.
The Glass Castle is a house without masks
Its clear, it's real
It won't question, it ASKS.
"Are you doing ok?", "What is it that ails?"
"What is your story?", "Tell me your tales!"
Because your words are just simply that
Your personal diary, you hold the bat.
For love of the game is the motto you see
The game being life, the players are key.
The team that you choose should be chosen with care
So you'll trust all of those who enter the lair.
My glass castle is yours as well.
When your heart needs a friend
Please ring the bell.
Stare-well.! gazing..As emotions and souls to your Majestic fields aspire..
Temporal surrounds me, ambiguous background; below crested fallow moons.."
Amplified." Intensity' as stellar images fall silently; while cresendos of beauty abound
Innumerable shifts of light and dark in shaded displays make play! & re-plays are seen.
Roaming tails of light deny non-existence, "and pass on" in twillight realms...
Wholly indescribable energy masses pirouette; in an eternity of loose and endings"
Always immaculate ways, and untrod paths scintillate to Mercurial growth anon..)
Yea' though is interposed my earthly being; tis the more to highlight heavenly ways,
To rebirth.! "and with all glory" the celestial tapestry alludes to His-story.."
Orbs in incandescence implode.! as platignum stairways transpire..)
Though my script be no match.) the words not worthy of re-counting be, so let it be.!
Haze's of swirl glazed and gaseous liquid nimbus; gather possibility's beyond reason
Eclipse, is a true part of the many story's played upon this..! of aeons august stage.
Starry foot-light stair-well "to be or not to be"of such is all the honor i seek to attain,
True enrichment there'to is revolving; where'of my soul is to pertaining
And there my"die is cast..!as midst the maddening crowd" i cry with sullied eyes.)
Revering and wishing upon the great lights life i see in para-present skies
So i endure..passing all lights are.! await i "a mote of such to be,In the one Gods sight.
Copyright Joe Maverick.co.uk 2012 For Linda-Maries Stairway to the stars contest.
It' so easy to imagine that a creator would impart
To all his creations a bit of himself in each heart
When my soul cries out, yearning for connection to the light
When words and no earthly love prove enough to console the blight
Music and meditation are blessed stairways which lift me upon wings
Transporting to a sacred place of worship beyond the worldly strings
Where no religion, or walls of stone would affect
Subliminal commune of light with light in a deeper respect
~*~
By Annalise Brigham
For: Dr. Ram's "Music and Meditation" Contest
You came down to us
From out of the mist
You descended upon us
We called you God
We bowed down to you
You came from another time
Realms from another time
From the stairways to heaven
You were sent to watch over us
You became voyagers in time
You could not resist the female form
One day you descended upon us
You mated with our females
And we liked it
We liked it so much
We gave birth to your babies
And now I hear you returning
From off in the distant realms
I wrote in summer of 1994,,,,,,,,,, Genesis and JOB, Book of Enoch. 6http://www.kingjamesbibleonline.org/Genesis-6-4/
There were giants in the earth in those days; and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bare [children ] ...
Up the down Spiral stairways
So many doors so many floors
Dimly lit the halls are
Forever making my adventure
More mysterious and profound
Doors are everywhere
I'm searching for just the right one
Finally reaching the basement door
A Very large door at that
Something striking me odd
As I stand straight at attention
Anticipating what will be
Putting my two hands
On the massive door
Wondering if it's the right choice
I slowly open the door
And peek in,but again
disappointment
The search continues
Never you mind
My destiny just out of reach
I continue on my quest
To success
To say the least..
1st amendment atrocities
Secondary nature
Pound for pound
They scream above holy lungs
Of righteous contradictions
As humanity continues to dry-hump “social” media,
Their sedentary psychiatrist
Judgmental lip smacks
Chapped from the arrogant vowels
They spit
Another syllabic lyric
Within our home of the “free”
Our 50 stars become 50 irrational assault rifles
In order to become bullet proofed
From infantile validation
We embrace rusty excavators
Crushing on Bones wearing red sweaters & silky moustaches
While MBAs & Bachelor Degrees
Fight in Spartan-tempered mouth-offs
If a dress is blue or gray
Donkeys & Elephants become consensual orgies
In the name of desperate prayers
But, neither will raise taxes in the name of God
For church & state are separate
Until dollar-store woven baskets made in China swoop in
During Sunday mas(k)s
Stairways to our imaginary heaven,
Its railing removed by forced epiphanies,
Replaced by “angelic” archways
Made of Kardashian silicone
And rose-tinted ascension
Yes, we can.
Yes, we did.
Yes, we fell.
We. Must. Change.
©D.J.E.
Unclimbed Stairways
by Odin Roark
At the base of the stairs
He lay on his back
Upon his chest
He propped his hero
Peering up through GI Joe’s
Stand-your-ground stance
All seemed climbable
Just like in the movies
But he knew
Summit of the stairs
Was the attic
That frigid place
Lures of the forbidden
With air suffocating its captivity
Like his mother warned
Such was the explanation
Penned studiously by the doctor
Connecting the dots
Of thirty years subsequent
The strategy of solipsism
Where more forbidden climbs
Ensnared him with madness
And a padded enclosure
The doctor thought he had control
But the man/boy knew
In front of him
Just a mother in a cheap suit
Warning
Always warning
Was Van Gogh warned?
Was David Foster Wallace warned?
Is the next Hoffman going to be warned?
Check your stairways
To the bathroom
Safe
To your bedroom
Probably safe
To the attic of adult life
Oh my
Caution
Or
Instinct
Here we go
The truth of their own beholder. There is none in him in their golden deceit Retreating into their cycloptic gland the apple of their eye Discordia. the age of the bewildered beliefs off their rails of the reality tunnels Truly a crazy train to avoid the truth by division creating endless tunnels of dystopia The unapologetic of their own heresies Blacks smiths of the ancient psyops Bring back the out cast of their own makings whether swinging in Jung's jungle tuning into Leary's leery lyre Blavatsky blatant blasts Freud's fairest fraud wanton Anton's or Crowley's unreality. All are like Dionysus genetic cupboards perception pills. The altered states of discontentment crossing wires in their twisted hannibal codex.Cybernetics new captain of trans humanism still shrugging the world off their shoulders for the evil that they perceive into an atlas of chaos with quasi- motto ringing bells for their Franken-design. Their upside down stairways leading to the stagnant light of a cracked door a vultured eye absinthe. To get over their guilt of their own law do what thou wilt assuming that their conscience are not defiled and all the while they are searingly beguiled The truth is is is the Truth the absolute. Lies lies lies prowl around in hooded greys propagandist of the endless mazes. Lighting false fires of the Prometheus blaze hissing asps of the doubled tongue setting their own world on fire. Like the orange clock work of the Georgia guide stones. The meth wine of the undivine with nobody to come only a desire to go. But....
One door will close and another will open
a portal to something quite new
Turning the knob is at times very daunting
but something we all need to do
There is no telling the places its leading
pathways a threshold will show
Step after step an adventure is calling
you must decide if to go
There you may find in astonishing phrases
words that are sent from afar
Flowers in vases with crystal wine glasses
the light of the first morning star
Chambers and hallways with fine golden hardware
paintings the walls do appear
Mahogany woodwork in arches and stairways
curtains of lace velvet sheer
Maybe a chair that does look so inviting
asking you to take a seat
While in the vestibule, someone is waiting
one you are destined meet
No matter the instance when doorways are open
open as well, up your mind
If you walk through as another door closes
you might be surprised what you find