Best Supernal Poems
Come to me my beloved,
save me from life's brutalities,
so this heart can soften -
sparkle like a million fireflies.
For you hold the light
to illuminate my soul.
For you are the ceremony
and I the dance.
As you come near,
I'll spin like a mad man,
dancing in the rain.
If to touch you is a sin,
then I am a sinner,
yearning to sin till my last breath.
If to hold you, means to lose everything,
then I will live as a penniless man,
rich within the luxuries of your affection.
If to love you is a crime,
then I am a criminal,
lock me away and dispose of the key,
chain me within the chambers of your heart.
If this is my last poem,
then let these words become spirits,
sleeping within the sacred sanctuary
of your supernal soul.
Silent One
Simple Musing
5 January 2019
Your face
is a love song
of exquisite and matchless appeal
Your eyes
a duet of violin and cello
sonorous, deep
Your hair
an orchestra of euphonious instruments
playing in cohesive harmony
Your smile
a fantasia
of unearthly delight
Your teeth
a legato line of 32nd notes
in a concerto played to perfection
Your hands
a conductor’s baton
emoting wordlessly
Your voice
a rhapsody
of supernal joy
Your heart
a sumptuous lyric
a poetic paragon
Your soul
a sacred oratorio
set apart and holy
You are a sinuous melody
I can’t get out of my head
…nor will I ever wish to
Written 1 Mar 2020
Ariel eyes gaze towards sapphire seas.
Mermaids have no purpose in aquariums.
Yet so many struggle to escape shallow streams.
Sitting upon sandy shores,
depth of her emotions, reflect moonlight,
gently caressing welcoming waves.
Yearning to float free -
to wash away her worries,
her mind is like a constellation of stars,
hiding behind misty vapors.
Spiritual sounds summon her home.
Melodies of mystical nymphs,
liberate her supernal soul,
as an infinite power dwells within her.
As sand castles wash away,
Sea Urchins wash upon the shore,
craving to be beside her.
Sapphire seas cast a spell.
Dimness of the horizons clear,
permitting stars to illuminate into her eyes -
like a millions pearls placed inside
the chambers of her Oyster heart.
Letting go, each splash erases the past,
cleansing her mind, releasing subliminal chains,
swimming in depths, most would drown.
Her spirit once stranded upon barren land,
now bathes within oceans, not known to man.
Silent One
26 December 2018
Playground…
Playground…
I am making decisions every morning,
None of them comes along with any warning.
To go right or to go left, which one is right?
Living in darkness or hoping to see light.
I made million decisions, most of them fine,
Few I made that I think it wasn’t mine.
Few that changed my life led me to despair,
I wish I had a chance go back and repair.
What if I had the power to do it right?
To go back and play all day and all night.
What if I can go back to play like a young?
To sing all of the songs that ought to be sung.
What if, instead of books, I learned to live life,
to learn dance, and learn to play with no more strife?
Alas, sun is setting, darkness coming soon.
My hope is to see it; that wandering moon.
I wish there was a game I could play now.
A childish game if you can show me it how.
The sinful mirror on my nearest wall,
Reminding my summer has gone; it is fall.
The autumn now, it is cold and full of pain.
The winter promises more days to complain.
I am thinking to go back and do it right.
As if mistakes never were an oversight.
I am thinking of a play in the playground.
To play as young again, hope youth to be found.
If I play hard again, I might become young,
I will dance like a fool, unknown and unsung.
I don’t know where to play or who I can trust.
In this strange game of life, aging is unjust.
Where is my playground, my supernal bliss?
Awake me once again; no life is like this.
7/28/18 Haloo
Note: This particular style of poetry is called "Masnavi"; it is a spiritual couplet usually with eleven syllables. Poetrysoup has a great explanation and example of this form of poetry.
When wands of beauty spell the core of heart
a rapture gasped and pounded into me
my vision I long to capture in art
with hands of poetry dipped into glee.
When music flows through the chambers of mind
no sounds heard but steps of the soul in trance
as a glow of joy through the soul would glide
the self whirls and twirls in a divine dance.
When smitten with supernal sensations
mysteries, you seek to perceive and frame
taste sweet pains to reach higher dimensions
the soul is deeply moved by light and flame.
Ever, the heart fill and the mind inspire
With abiding thirst, to quench and admire.
April 24th, 2019
Reverence heard, a compassionate sound of solemn word,
Resounds mercy of utmost goodwill, aura-divine spurred,
Performing deeds of beneficence, defying malevolence;
An epistle of angels on earth conferring gift of benevolence.
Such holy angels dwelling among us, are gems quite rare,
Purity of their actions proclaim~ how genuinely they care,
For the destitute, the hapless, caught in throes of despair,
Proffering words of prayer, pleading for hope and welfare.
Messengers of peace, hallowed in zeal of virtuous intention,
Supernal is their magnificence, never yearning attention,
Humble in service to others, dedicated to their missions,
Guiding through life’s hurdles, fulfilling human ambitions.
Inner harmony echoes from voice of their altruistic soul,
Righteous are such missives, sentiments endearing cajole,
Rejecting pessimism of fate in bold pursuit of virtuous goal,
Of kindness, of amity and love, teachings spiritual extol.
Featherless angels, mortals alike us, yet they live on and on,
Worshipped for their pious acts, long after they are gone,
For legacies of ideals devout, profound passions of heart,
For reassurance, inspiration of life, memories now impart.
What is it that our
vaunted intellect supposedly conveys?
That benefits the air and sea,
summits, life and
broad expanse of land?
Now
Suppose that we
at some stark moment
vanished one and all—
adjoined by all
matter and assemblage from
our forced and plundered reign?
In absence then of everything
we pillaged and proclaimed
would air be rent
by thunderous noise
of mighty rivers
returning to their courses.
Resumed the growth of forests,
near vanished and forlorn,
and healed all the
wounds and scars
that marred
Earth's sacred skin.
Then floating in the
cold and barren void,
this supernal sapphire jewel:
eternal haven of
innocence and peace.
We would not be missed.
'Tis a heavenly honeybee
with a honeyed tongue
drippin' dulcet words accompany
by the rhythm of her buzzin' song.
...Sweet appetible verses flavourin' my soul
with the nectar fetch from tasty seasons of Springs;
Mmm! a bunch of saccharine syrup to behold.
Aliment from the supernal honeycomb she ev'r brings.
O' lofty queenbee! a noble subject clings
to your pleasurable condiment,
and to the chorus of your iridescent wings
swarming with merriment.
So, hail to Moonbee
with a vow of Jubilee.
A dedication to MoonBee.
again …
here I am -
a glum ghost
a somber shadow
I have come to dream
to pledge duty, your gleam
to venerate your foreday liturgy
ah, and mend the mist - the magical mist
another mercurial morn creature such as we
ever cautiously coy in its dark, shifting purpose
with foggy fingers it creeps shore-ward
tickling the rocks and rills with vexing facility
its dew-dripping appendages grasp the bluff
and cloak it in a brume shawl
sea's briny breath
braided to a blanket
covering all in a supernal spell
as if we haunt some lofty realm
paused between stars and steeples
to dance for the dawn's enchantment
but I am here for longing's sake
to entomb my pallid pining
priceless little maudlin chunks of my life
that I must forever let loose
whimsical moments spent here, made precious by another
a sweet syrup called "her" that drips from my being
and dribbles its way to my visceralities
where now it turns rancid with nostalgia
poisoning my spirit
you ...
with your winking perpetuity
shall be the last witness to my remorse
you - my lonely, reticent, stolid beacon
shall be the final testament
to every tear let in her stead
to every hapless heartache rent for her
to every soul-wrenching dream torn from the night
and to every last hush of her name on the wind
I throw it all down now
to crash on these jagged cliffs with the morning wake
to end where it was first entrusted
with the shutter of your winking eye
and the first misty beams ... of a new day.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Lighthouse" Poetry Contest, Eve Roper, Judge & Sponsor.
Frolicking minds under benevolent skies
Set into motion spectacular emotions
Painting orange hues on silken textiles
As lovers embark on a path to paradise
Horizon bends listening to ocean tidings
Emanating from voices of rippling images
When twilight beams refract under water
Echoing messages of enchanting dreams
Hearing urgent call of resonant hearts
Birds organize display of intricate charm
Saluting the promise of ardent evening
Flying in unison with articulate response
Fervent vibes awaken to love's divinity
Surrendering to onset of sensual feelings
Rejoicing a kiss amid wordless dialogue
Holding each other in a reveling trance
Hearing heart to heart rhythmic romance
Urging love to advance amorous stance
Parting sun twinkles a retreating glance
As pier dims silently in each other's arms
Receiving a signal from supernal promise
Two souls merge heeding destiny's advice
Captivated by sentiments of eternal bliss
Excited to explore what heaven feels like
March 25, 2018
Picture this contest by Joseph May
Image 3
Placed 3rd
In interludes of self-reflection, whether in the state of consciousness or meditative, I accept that I am an immanent being, layered with imperfections. I am human. I make mistakes, but to live my life instilled with fear and without love would not be living.
my concept of life...
acceptance of immanence
I am not divine
I am not destined for permanence in this world. Through death, I will leave a void to be filled. Seekers of truth, open your inner sight and allow it to lead you towards enlightenment. Sing a melody during life's journey and set your spirit free. Sing a song, a symphony, to help you find your way. It's a cosmic affair, so bare your soul and find the bliss that awaits you there.
human souls reside
but for a moment on earth
waves on an ebb tide
Most will not live eternally; we are not the transcendent kind. There is only One who lives to reign, and we dare not disdain His right to claim the throne. God is transcendent and there will never be an amendment to that in this manifested world. He will not be dethroned by word or deed by some malcontented human having the need for a coup. Those who would dare cast shadows on His name have no respect for divinity.
God reigns o'er the world
do not query or doubt His
supernal glory
A transcendental splendor in sepia hues,
spreads it’s woody arms across a nomadic river;
leaves of cinnamon and amber dog the landscape,
as long spectral limbs stretch to golden beams.
Here lay serenity, a breath of neutrality;
tranquility in verdigris-amber glow.
A spark of Gaia’s soul in copper caress
reflects upon the significance of its’ existence.
The river’s constitutional seems unending;
it bends and winds its’ way among tall sentinels.
It generously bestows life to passers-by
offering up itself copiously.
A supernal entity is the woodland.
3-19-2021
ALL YOURS (Mar 20) Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
The bible
our pure poetry
Divine voice
art -- gallery imagery
Father’s expanding palettes of time
space infinite –
shadows of unframed
formless canvas -- man's freedom
to light, shape, transverse supernal grace,
we, alone, limit speed
and trajectory
bridging dark gaps, colors
dappled, dropped and splashed
faith will make mix, both consciously
and intuitively apply:
heaping our scrapers and brushes,
the chill of the chalkboard screech
the joy of the slip and slide
the rankle of arms and hands figuring
otherwise meaningless medium
Creativity man's Adam
ligaments of my elastic being
dutifully, lovingly allowing stretch
for explore
sinewy constructs for
mental lift and taut endurance,
the unshakable frame that
holds all upright, and
makes daily challenges
superbly sculptable, while
retaining elasticity --
God let’s be
and we decide
if when and what…?
His unseen hand
yet in the flaming attributes….
Sunlight was paling.
Was it drifting on the sea
like an ebbing tide?
It glinted farewell
to a day of sovereignty
as twilight drew nigh.
At the cusp of night
a new monarch took the throne,
glowing was the moon.
Regal as a queen,
gowned in luminous silver,
she decreed her reign.
Celestial diamonds
surrounded her radiance,
facets of starlight.
Supernal nova!
Were they ornaments hanging
in galactic skies?
Incandescent prisms
were reflected in moonbeams
of lambent colors.
Dappled light of morn
was woven with threads of gold
by dawn's gentle hand.
Then, appeared pastels,
lavender, pink and amber,
painted by the sun
on the eastern horizon.
"Be still…
and know God!"
Present in every
atom, manifestation of being:
The chatter of the day --
our desires, fretting,
unsettling nature of seemingly
sometimes fathomless night –
can turn us, unwittingly from
ever alert angels~ vigilance
of inner eyes
who see all, inner
ears, ever listening
to a song of love, a tacit
sense of divine vibration~
an ever present, eternal touch
realized as awesome supernal
intimacy –
God is
juice of every heartbeat,
every fluttering leaf motioned
by his spiritual breath –
every cloud,
every beam of sunlight, glitter for a sail
of constantly changing, evolving shape and color
leading us to lofty awareness,
for conscious
relationship with the omnipotent love who made us,
and eternally guards while journeying with us….
We are never alone
division from one another
from beautiful Core Source, a lie
an illusion in the theater of Time and space
to eventually be dissolved….