Best Swaddles Poems
......
(PoetrySoup Format)
. . . smooth shades secretly serenade,
blush and blend, to send vivid vivacity.
- a masterpiece in the making -
like a painter posing with a palette,
matching the mood
of cream and Burgundy
**************
Summer shimmers, sharing a savory sweetness,
the sultry Saturn sunrise, swaddles a Sangria sunset
____________
Fall, into me,
beyond the ambiance of Autumn
________________________
like the poised position,
of a poet with a pen,
simply sculpting shapes;
softly scribbling shadows within
------------------
A romantic/seasonal scribble
- Fall into my love, the love and mood of the season -
Perhaps both
When Do We Start To Live
Collaboration poem: Space Cadet and Darren White
Voice: Wesley C.
How do I know we’ve lived?
If you’re certain then tell me when?
When? When have I lived?
Do I live now?
Is it the tap-tap of my hand against the window;
the drum played by my fingers on the chair?
Is it the slowed back-beat, or the snare drum speed,
under your hand at rest,
on my chest,
in this 2 AM discotheque.
How do we know we’ve lived?
Is it a faint notion, or
movement in my legs:
A lotus reed on my calves
I'd never felt until it tickled me?
How do I know I’m still alive?
Is it when the ice-blue swaddles
me in abyss, of
inky darkness?
Or when I’m a borne flutter of this butterfly
crinkled away in my chest
cavity?
Or as sun rays play
with light and words that tumble,
crumble, and fall to pieces,
in their own stubborn way,
here,
on this paper?
Is it found in a friend’s voice
that pulls me from dark,
penetrates a radiance inward,
up from me, out,
to my face,
ablaze with why I'm here to exist?
catalyse of chalk
circles sooted box, reveals
the vortex inside
stakes open her eyes
pries into her private life
draws blood with madness
insists a deep cut of ties
a vampire’s bite sucks
glistens under moon-lightning
with darkening of iris
the rectangle shut
and discomforting inside
the satin lining
that swaddles her until when
feeds the lack of blood pressure
buried in the earth
instead of mausoleum
means she is fated
until flood rains dredge her up
bitterly famished and ripe
her tormentor’s plot
enjoying her plight of pangs
and her screaming fangs
that engulf her first victim
she begs a silver bullet
…and who will shoot first
the gun, with no reflection,
or the too-white teeth?
does lover want to join her
or distribute her ashes?
the two quick rounds nail
tormentor, his protogé
bloodthirst vanishes
end of bad day, sky’s crimson
and the hungry are looming.
Written: September 26, 2023
Pick-A-Title, Vol 39 Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
“However authentic the feelings of love, the dalliance was only ever meant to be a beautiful fiction” - Esther Perel.
____________________________________________________________
Dot dabbles during dangerous dalliance
As souls are enticed by seductive affiance.
A narrative about forbidden temptation.
Shine smolders sway—a sensuous sensation.
A cynosure silver shimmer under the moon.
Flickers of fantastical fantasy foster flow foon.
Two spirits intertwined in a pointless game.
They are fettered by—an overwhelming tame
A vortex of enthusiasm is sparked at first sight.
They can't defy the diaphanous magnetic excite.
Akin to how moths are lured to a perilous flame.
Prance frolicking on the cusp of a lethal game.
Dalliance, desire, ecstasy, and temptation.
For flirtation as feuds on frame of foundation.
Consider consequences and clashes with zeal.
And yet—the flames are often fanned by feel
In the gloominess, they sneak a sparkling touch.
Nimble hearts are trapped in a harmful slouch.
Bootlegged, beleaguered blaze both breaths.
As they succumb to love's intoxicating depth.
Demure whispers of wariness swirl in the air.
But elixir zeal evolves with each stolen stare.
They cognize the danger—the risk they convey,
Yet they cannot resist the love they display.
Emollient hearts hid, akin to vines in the night.
Igniting an afire that smolders ever so bright
Their bodies entwined—they pranced in the gloom.
Strayed sprightliness that swaddles to assume
Realizing sequels and the agony they trigger
But they cannot outlast this forbidden rigor.
They breathe on the edge—with hearts ablaze.
In a world where forbidden temptation plays
But time is a lousy tutor—it can't be denied.
And soon their dalliance will no longer hide.
The world will decry their ephemeral affair.
And their felicity will be furtive, beyond repair.
My Muse
This muse – personal trainer of my pen,
This restless spirit pacing in imagination’s sanctuary,
Gathers fleeting moments into anticipation’s tabernacle
Swaddles divine laughter, brooding gloom and holy fire
With scented leaves from her perfumed garden
Hallowed space clothed in inspiration
Where my love and loss embrace in genesis
Shooing away paralyzed procrastination
To transcend into creation lyrics and lines
In a cloistered hermitage of rhymes and rhythms
Drifting through defiant midnight in dopplers
With ultrasound colors of fading rainbows
Like pinpoints of ice or fleeting romantic dews -
Drawn from vaults of the eternal’s benediction –
Waking my insomniac meditations
So in my deafness I may hear her abiding presence,
In mystical and magic lines like prisms glow
Follow through
Dusky passages of visions
Poetic shame tattooed in rust
Enthralled by
Her faceless sacred songs played in my heart
So we join hands
Then lift our tousled words in nude prayers and pleas
In the unbroken sacramental circle of life
Cried to the four winds, seas and oceans
To praise the infinite everlasting.
1-4-23
"If in the first act you have hung a pistol on the wall, then in the following one it should be fired." -- Anton Chekhov
Chekhov declared that it's clearly imperative
That a gun given billing must duly be fired.
The bullet obligingly cinches the narrative,
Sating the thirst that the gun first inspired.
Yet the world is awash in objects inutile,
Which clog our disorderly narrative streams.
So why should a playwright adhere to so futile
A diktat pertaining to props in a scene?
Myself for example, habitually arming
The darkness that swaddles me, inkily deep,
My mind so occulted its doubly alarming
To grasp the black Kimber, now sprung from its keep.
The prop having found its way on to the stage,
My untethered demons start chorally keening,
Quite certain they know what the gun must presage:
That this is the moment that holds all the meaning.
Lions, tigers and bears oh my! The sweet taste of childhood melts on my tongue as I reminisce on the days where there were no consequences or worries – only joy. With each crunch, the animals take me back to a time in my childhood. The camel carries me on its back to the great continent of Africa, in a small country on the east side called Eritrea – the place where I was born. The elephant showers me with my parent’s love and adoration just for walking and speaking gibberish. When I fall down, the bear embraces me and swaddles me with care when I start to whimper. Each bite transports me to a new memory. The taste lingers on my tongue like dew. The smell envelopes me in a cocoon filled with light that protects me from the outside world. Too innocent to know that one day, I will emerge. My past life floods all the pores on my skin, like sap from a tree. Dipping each animal cracker into my milk, I drown all my sorrows and relive the past. Kids are running around and playing. Their laughter echoes in my ears as I swallow my childhood down. I take a bunny rabbit and remember how I learned to tie my shoes then I swallow again and the bunny disappears into the hole. The taste doesn’t leave my senses as though it’s trying to pull me back into the past permanently.
Baneful, manufactured decay
eerie, drab, atmosphere swaddles
stone walls wail, briny dismal tears
stagnant puddles, linger upon
ruinous, dreary, derelict paths
rancid foul stench, squalid minds
unlit musk, dank, tunnel conceals
societies obsolete, unruly
observing eyes, close in secret
quivering hands, steady weary stance,
shrieks echo through, high pitched whistles
malicious pit whines, engulfed in greed
screams absorbed, through murderous throat
stealing adrift shadows, to feast
fleeing terror, quavering legs sprint
stumbling towards, sunlight caress
as church bells chime, Sunday's hymns
Sacred sheen swaddles soul made of serene,
soul sun-lit, lifts sinless, into saints midst;
eternal, everlasting evergreen,
essence exits Earth’s exist; white-light kissed.
Soul sun-lit, lifts sinless into saint's midst,
guardian’s wings whispering soul above;
essence exits Earth’s exist white-light kissed,
blue blessing petals dressing soul with love.
Guardian's wings whispering soul above
where fragrant is God. Pure frankincense awed
blue blessing petals dressing soul with love,
spirit freed from seedpod no longer flawed.
Where fragrant is God pure frankincense awed,
eternal, everlasting evergreen,
spirit freed from seedpod, no longer flawed;
sacred - sheen swaddles soul made of serene.
SusanAshley
August 14, 2017
A holy man in a hospital bed
Preciously wrapped,
Like a mystic infant
Radiant, beautifully sculpted
against white sheets.
You're dying you say.
Your voice a lamp,
Another lesson strung
on a rosary of sacred moons,
to be held in prayer,
while darkness swaddles you.
Minuscule sapphire blooms,
timid starlight eyes
verdant foliage swaddles,
exquisite, elegant sight
tranquil, serene, meadows
flamboyant petals play
vibrant, petite, bouquets
baring messages to relay,
soothing mother's anguish,
in sorrow, you're not alone
dainty flowers cradle,
words they cannot say
A new religion
That can the future divine
A new god
That can tell us whence we came
A nirvana of nonsense
That only increases our ignorance
A dismal wreck to people’s conscience
We fight among ourselves
To shed as much blood
As a sacrifice to hatred requires
We have long since forgotten
What bits of our philosophy are true
We rarely say to a brother
“I love you”
The latest craze
Is a thirst for equality
The building blocks are still the same
Only a different caste
Wanting fame
Ambitions abound to make utopia
A realistic goal
The will exists
In blinded enthusiasm
Only checked by petty obstacles
That flummox those
Who cannot calmly take
A long term view
When change is being prescribes
For any ills
Mockery and mistrust
Can saddle one with Spiralling doubts
Causing a catastrophic implosion of will
The comfort of familiarity
Swaddles the mind tightly
Preventing sightings of a future anew
The strength to overcome must be conjured
Out of a black-hole of anxiety
A new set of myths is needed
That promulgate ideas
Which lay bare ones hand
With no backing of reasoned empirical dogma
That can slay some persistent doubts
Selfishness often mires a good cause
Those that scream for a revolution
May only want self-interested change
It is often impossible to know the enemy
Who looks just like you and me
Survival is essential
For a battle royal
Leaves no one standing
The prize is of no use
If none can claim it
Change should be beneficial
But Actions have reactions
Goodwill can create
Unintended disasters
That no span of time can dissipate
It might be that one day
We will all get along
Till that day of peace
We must struggle on
one cold winter night,
resting on the golden pew
deeply lost in your thoughts
voice of loving prayers
soft and shiny rainbow lights
distance between you and i
an alluring mystery
a heartbroken agony
where are you Neel?
mischievous grin
deep eyes
melting like caramel,
my soul resides within you
maneuvering ways to my heart
quirky eyes catches mine
winks at me,
in the depths of the night.
His fingers entangling mine
savior from drowning in the loneliness.
gleaming moon, swishing breath
next to mine.
lazing in a bliss.
ooh just a dream????
a fantasy,,,,,
blink my eyes twice
pulls me back
the chasm of the valley
he smirked
sharing another glance,
across the golden pew
remaining moment
Searching for the cause
in your eyes
allowing a moment of thought.
warmth of melting breath
pulsing through my veins,
mysterious man of my dreams
brightness of the rising sun swaddles him,
mouthful of unsaid words
my mind chasing flairs
a stranger I know nothing about
in your presence.
shaken my core,
concealing my deepest emotions,
love like never happened before'
to be continued...................!!
A Shout into the Void
A shout into the colorless void between Eden and exile,
Between exile and eternity,
By the eternal hero
Like faith leaping milestones from the lion’s head
In the conjugal joining of Heaven’s sighs
In Hosanna’s Glorias
In the midnight where my wandering spirit
Leaves no footprints in blank shadows
Now no room in this vacuum for nothing
But the triumphant yell of grace.
Mute words once swallowed
A living exclamation point
To punctuate a tiny cry
From the jewel of the creator’s creation
Shattering emptiness
In a wink from the everlasting Genesis
Anticipation in waiting
Leaping into my fractal space
To catch my hurtling free fall
Into bottomless vast valleys of lost gravity.
Nativity spreads white wings
In expressions of prophetic prophecy
Between two distant edges
Devoid of destination and of definition,
Only silhouettes of fleeting emptiness,
Until
Mercy’s advent
Swaddles teardrops turned into crystal gems
Of everlasting joy
Echoing in the shattered void.
12-27-21
Contest: Pick a Title
Theme chosen: A shout into the Void
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Start of daylight summer.
Standing clouds do scatter.
Sun shines through raindrops, sail.
Smell of rain wet spatter.
Swaddles nature sitting.
Stunning rainbow it spins.
12/8/2024