Best Sweep Through Poems


Premium Member You Are the One

l.
Opening the closet of narra doors, I sweep through
organza skirts and  gemmed ringlets; my hair
ruffling aimlessly upon scalloped kerchiefs
smelling decade - old hyacinth, Mom’s favorite
ambrosia: she would  lift her anklets
in tiptoed hums, ”night and day, you are the one..”
Evenings touched her candle hands; hands
that soothed wounded knees from  jackstone fights;
her fingers caressing a pony -tailed girl’s wrath
with piano keys rippling into a gentle moan;
“night and day you are the one…”
And i am delivered from my tempestuous rants.

ll.
From nowhere, the porcelain mirror gazed at me;
her rhythm of silence billows, cradling my nights
with each veil of her almond eyes
that enter into my irises: a serene sight
too close, much too tight I clung to her unspoken word.
Through years, I grew like a bamboo shoot: her quiet smiles
and music walked me through reality’s maze.
And how I would wail bearing the grim of hard study,
coughing late, late hours of reading toil…yet,
she stayed like a moth with charm flushed
in a wind of calm gaze, ebbing .


lll.
And only Mom could melt my temper
when my raging soul  paused to wonder 
at her light’s glow: oh, her feminine beat  illumined 
more lamplights dancing inside this rebellious head…
and now, she hovers around me.
I become her eyes, chanting, “night and day,
you are the one” ; never balking at my surreal conquests.


She is gone bequeathing warmth into my torched flights
without question;  with much love dripping 
from her graceful movement, straying all through
these my breaths: “night and day, you are the one…”



Best Sad Poem Ever Contest of Laura Loo
Resubmitted 8/28/2016
Categories: sweep through, longing, mother daughter,
Form: Prose Poetry

Premium Member In Emerald Shadows

Trying to hide in conspicuous places
a night on the town in their false, plastic faces.
Sweetly they sweep through magnificent halls,
top-dollar galas and masquerade balls -- 
where always the wine is more bitter than sweet,
each girl wishing for love in her ruby-clad feet.

Perhaps scarecrows are thoughtful, and lions are brave,
and the tin-men know passion, such a boisterous parade
of hopeful young suitors, each waiting his chance
to find a young lady and win her last dance. 

All tied up as prisoners with satin-silk chains
they listlessly dance as the hope from them drains.
A piano-man plinks only on the black keys:
pentatonic winds on a pentatonic breeze,
still not enough blowing to carry balloons
or to start raining houses from cyclic typhoons.

The evening draws on -- long beyond the moon’s rising,
a faint glinting of green from the city’s disguising
the envious looks in the eyes of the witches
and harsh threatening gales of the wind as it switches.
And no one is happy, none are finding their prize --
no one knows what they want, nor removes their disguise.
So the dancing is pointless, bravado is hollow
no wizardly magic can fix what will follow.

Shallow connections that lead nowhere, and quickly
the ballroom grows quiet, the witches grow prickly
the lions go fleeing, the scarecrows are clueless,
the tin-men don’t care, and that makes them the cruelest
For out in the public, among all the noise
some girls have gone missing -- and so have some boys
and in the dark shadows, all knew what occurred
but they whisper and gossip, and spread what they heard:
that it must have been mutual, it must be alright
they’re both grown adults, let’s not be so uptight.
And thus they all hide, in conspicuous places
enabling the culprits with false, plastic faces.

9/4/16
Categories: sweep through, abuse, analogy, betrayal, dance,
Form: Couplet

Come, Oh the Wind

Come, oh the wind
with the muscle of a wrestler
come to sweep through me
fiercely I say
and carry me away
away from myself
to a place so desert
and there I will find peace 

Come, oh the wind
come so fast and fierce
come rake through me
and throw my sorrows away
to the wilds I say
and let them perish

Come, oh the wind
come like a hurricane
and rush through me
come to inflate my dreams with hope 
and let them fly like a balloon
so high to reach the stars and the moon

Come, oh the wind
come let me be 
a soul I wish to be
Categories: sweep through, self,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Covid Climbs

*HHS Secretary Alex Azar says the U.S. time is closing, to control the spread

The U.S. has reached an all-time high, of Covid cases from the start
We may lose control of the spread, any last grip falling apart
It would sweep through every state, when you think of it this way
Overwhelm hospitals, from every direction, filling up day to day
Then we would return to the beginning of a shut down
That had everyone complaining to start with, in each town
None of this makes any sense, as today we watch each crowd
Fill up streets side by side, all together screaming loud
I’ve always said, the virus will prove the truth over all
But, it’s unbearable to watch it, contribute to America’s fall

Heidi Sands

6/28/20
Categories: sweep through, america, health,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Winter Magic

"Winter ensures greater bonding than any other season by bringing the family members together to sit around the hearth enjoying the warmth of the fire and sharing pleasantries"~ By Poet


Snowflakes are sliding down through porous air.
They look like confetti on a pretty bride in white.
Some land down on bare limbs of trees and bushes
Rabbits and squirrels into their comfy borrows alight.

A thick blanket of snow is spread over hills and dales.
Land and trees look as if someone painted them wholly white.
Like pretty jewels, suspended rain drops gleam and glitter.
Cold blizzards blow and sweep through the whole night.

When flakes of snow are thus gently gliding and landing,
When I feel the chill in my body and all through my bones, 
Into the depths of sweet slumber, my mind takes flight,
Enjoying the magic of winter and wind’s euphonic tones!
Categories: sweep through, appreciation, environment, winter,
Form: Rhyme

I Meme, Therefore I Am

forgot what I had set out to remember
when my deconstructed self
discovered there was no authentic anything
saw through it all every granule
how we became the unwitting tools
of smarter people who really weren't smart enough
concluding if this is life
you can imagine what death is like
I can tell you this much
we are alone in this galactic theme park
alone as a lizard on a sunny rock
what percent of the totality 
of all there is in all the universe
do we perceive 
and what do you see with nothing absent
this question failed to sweep through 
the bum fight arenas
where they need permission to think
no escaping that free means battle 
which goddammit means not free
shouting to anyone my agent will sue
as the lines grew longer 
and the bread grew shorter
the sly ones were trampled by their own venality
order was quickly restored destroyed restored etc.
the pace was feverish so were the faces
on State TV at 6 and 11
self denialists saw their heads roll down the lane
towards the ten pins at Bowl N' Boogie 
in an educated kind of idiocy
for which there is no help
a scandal of poor illumination
you never know which is the foreground
and which is the background
discovering heaven is not overhead
OK I’d better let up on the enthusiasm
too many grimacing faces in the popcorn
too many bushwhacking gargoyles
plump like 3-D bratwurst
in this Biblical sauerkraut mamodrama
making the world lounge safe
for my blindfolded baptism 
for both the seen and the unseen
beneath the scum covered water
on a need to know basis
I now reveal a deadly secret
there is direction there is magnitude
densities and rarities
we mime we imitate
we steal what we are
and are beaten with sticks 
for having a mind and knowing it
I meme therefore I am
Defection Control had him by the throat
blow a kiss to the camera
it's all just a really big index



From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
Categories: sweep through, crazy, how i feel,
Form: Free verse


Premium Member Holodomor

Ukraine was a beautiful place, I was told.The rolling fields of green, the flat 
squares of wheat.Small farms clustered along dirt roads where children played.Now filled with the lingering stench of death.The farms once overflowing with hard work and laughter now sit silent.
I'm speaking to myself so my thoughts might be heard by someone.I'm alone and dying of starvation.Yesterday I turned nine years old, there was no 
celebration.Tomorrow when the glorious sun slowly rises and floods the empty 
fields with light, I'll be dead.The cold hearted Russian soldiers came with anger and frustration and took everything.My village, once a moving breathing community has been slowly starved to death, without remorse.
This night seems colder than most, my mind keeps floating in and out of purpose.All have died and I'm the last of my village.
Yesterday when the sun was setting I heard scratches and whispers at the front door,asking for food, I had none.Within hours the sound stopped as they died laying upon the cold wooden planks of night.
No one is coming and the pain has stopped.I'm tired and going to quietly drift into a deep sleep, forever. They say I am a pretty girl, but I'll never know
Tomorrow the Russians will sweep through and burn our village.No one will ever know we were ever here.They'll be an emptiness where there was life.
Death is welcomed.These rolling fields will be filled now with the ghosts of 
innocence searching for a place lost in the emptiness of time.


8/27/14
Categories: sweep through, death, holocaust,
Form: Prose

Under the Influence of You

Virgin breezes sweep through our distant white curtains
A cluster of candles lit our shadows silhouetting two 
Purposeful detainment- 
Soft conjoined lips breathe warmth throughout our bodies 
Lovers are we spilling fever into each others eyes
Tepid souls gently flow ribbons of pleasure 
Familiar aromas and tastes hang in mouths 
Carry me weak into the light of your love 
Forever-restless abiding love drenched in eagerness
Rapture, devotion, intimately in the arms of ivy needing 
Moments turn to hours of a spell building 
Lets ride into the unknown and never turn back 
Standing still in love 
Never turning away.
Capture us in a bubble floating in the seas of time
Seahorses bow, fairies sparkling dust departing violet streams of what we grew    


Inspired by John Heck's love contest!
Categories: sweep through, happiness, love, passionlove,
Form: Free verse

Looking For God

I went looking for God
in grandest cathedral,
in splendour of gold,
and crosses and statues
and rooves overwhelming
and priests ever-damning
and nuns ever-loving,
so wishing the children would learn
and be good.....

I went looking for God
in a golden dome,
where the mullahs were wailing
and people loud-hailing
their message, devotion
their women in headscarves
their young ones a-dreaming
seventy two virgins
if only, if only....

I went looking for God
in temple of ages,
of people forsaken
and praying, oh praying
that tomorrow might bring peace,
that they might be known,
that their children may die no more.....

I went looking for God,
I fasted, I chanted,
I shut my eyes tight,
I crossed my legs hurting,
my brain ever-reaching
for light ever-distant......

I searched East, I searched West,
above and below,
my time and my will
was no longer my own...

But do you know where I found God?

I sat on a hilltop
and felt the wind beckon,
I breathed the Divine in the trees
and the earth and the sweet-scented
breeze of the autumnal haze.....
I gave up all searching
and sat in the middle
of hustle and bustle,
and felt the sweet stillness
unfolding before me......

I walked through the chaos
and saw a hand outstretched
a haunted-eyed face
in a desolate scene.
And in those ragged eyes
I saw God looking back at me,
unmistakable mirror
of my own sweet divinity.....

I looked into my heart
saw my sweet, gentle child,
felt my energy sweep through my chakras,
expand from my crown.....
And God lived in the joy and the bliss
that followed my days full of love....

When I stopped looking for God
I realised
that wherever I looked
there it was.

And it was Love.
Categories: sweep through, devotion, faith, inspirational, peace,
Form: Free verse

Cardboard Box

We are all looking for the one thing to inspire
We are all on the same path, different stops waiting for the universe to conspire
embedded in our souls from the birth of our understanding 
The want, the wish to be great, self-made breathing exorbitantly in our surrounding

The mistake we make is living in other people’s values
So we strain ourselves, give up our dreams and put up the same statues
Our individuality becomes transparent and we become programmed with the rest of society
Lost are the adventures so incredibly needed, packed away is our variety

We are all unique yet the same
The same yet different levels of the game 
We need to climb out of the narrow minded cardboard box
Instead of being what’s expected, be the exception, don’t be the sheep choose the fox

I see my life like a black and white photograph
So much detail, it’s all about the experience instead of living by the graph
I choose the inspired path, I need to live instead of exist
I will run instead of walk, fight for the thrill and search for the experience, always I shall insist.

Stand on the edge with me and tell me the magnificence your eyes bestow
Fee the adventure and thrill sweep through your being as through your hair the wind blows
So the choice is yours, live in the box and follow the tiresome trends 
Or throw away the I musts and give in to the I want to’s be the definition and decide where it ends
Categories: sweep through, journey, life, uplifting, universe,
Form: Rhyme

The Beginning of the End

A bright flash with a mighty wind
An event that marks the beginning of the end
Once great cities heaped into rubble
Millions of lives lost due to the trouble
Marshall law, Chaos in the streets
people fighting over something to eat
New government corrupt and deceitful
not caring at all for the people
Looting and murder, rape and theft
Soon there will be no sanity left
The forces of evil will sweep through the land
The servants of God will make their last stand
Satan will laugh as his plans fall into place
All who love God will be left in disgrace
Satan will stand and declare himself God
Then Jesus will come and on Satan trod
The Christians will be given crowns to wear
and Satan will be thrown into the pit of despair
Categories: sweep through, spiritual, god, god,
Form: Pastoral

Premium Member The Ruba'Iyat of Creteil Lake - Part One

The Ruba’iyat of Créteil Lake – Part One

Lone gold Venus nears the sickle moon in the late autumn sky
She lies naked dreaming with one leg tucked under her thigh
The pallor of her silvery skin simmering with tide
A lone white swan trundles on one webbed foot heaving a sigh

Her tiara of amber and halogen loose by her side
The gold-braided brocade and studded raiments on one side
Gushing tresses hang loose by twinkling broaches on her back
Heady scents from pubic island and dark armpits fester inside

Wintry winds sweep through weeping willows tickling her fancy
Sway clumps of yarrow stalks huddling fearless coots in colony
She turns and heaves a sigh thinking of Old Khayyam’s ardour
Stars in his eyes and ruby red wine coursing through glory

Over the mobile hips and seductive slopes of her hills
Come calling Canada geese and wild duck in squawking trills
All messengers from Tundra’s ever clasping hoary past
Will she remember you O! Omar! when freezing water kills

The hoar frost wheezes under-foot along her silken robes
And the lone otter dares not venture out in his last throes
Even the sea gulls swoop no more for deep hugging blind fish 
While she slumbers through blared Canada geese trumpeting oboes! 

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: sweep through, allegory,
Form: Quatrain

The Battlefield With No Face, No Beginning, No End

when scorpions crawling on the boiling sands 
dance the dance of death with tail culled up 
the gaudy toadstools grow in the dark and dampest spot
in the wasteland, and as day progresses the never-ending 
merciless killing under the very same scorching sun that hangs high above 
the wasteland drags on and on in the urban, areas where people carry out 
the activities of daily routine to sustain ordinary lives.
 
on the street and alley the children’s corpses 
though laying here and there
no one knows how to stop the deafening roar 
that comes from the blasting bombs and the report of the guns 
that take more innocent lives away from loved ones which do not allow 
even a moment to the bereaved one to mourn with own accord, and when 
the tears of a woman in black burqa slaps forehead and bangs her breast with palms and cries, her maternal affection benumbed and become stone as her tears coagulate and harden.

a small rough and simple wooden coffin goes 
carried by the stern looking bearded men followed by not requiem 
but the shout of the angry crowd brandishing empty fists that won’t do 
anything in air the agony of the incompetent father who incapable of 
keeping his dearest daughter’s life 
nor able to provide a decent funeral and burial services 
for the child’s last journey overlays the new-soil-covered little grave
as many layers of sigh after sighs. 

when the tanks and armored vehicles sweep through the street
where many, many of those horrible stories rolling and flying 
all over like autumn leaves, the soldiers with dust covered 
combat boots dash into the street with unceasing gun shots 
that hit the shadows because it moves, only because it breathes, 
and therefore must be slaughtered. the fireballs hotter than boiling 
sun shoot in the air with loud report on the other side of the street.
 
and between those ear-piercing roars 
another angry wave marches on the street
carrying a small coffin, and in this chaos
eventide with no tomorrow dyes the corner of sky 
above the faceless battlefield with the red of blood.
© Su Ben  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: sweep through, anger, child, death, war,
Form: Free verse

Wall

Wall

Within the confinement my thoughts her tears sweep through my marrows

As her lips intertwine within the shadow of my webs...

The thoughts of staying longer in her cascading emotions motioned my elements to rise 
beyond her hyperbolic hips...

As the pulsating echoes from her temple stooped in between my element..

My metaphoric grip descended from Mount Sian

The moon stood mute, as mounts moan

The floodgate was open..

A beautiful ride all the way, because she was wall built with ceder...

Awoh awoh
Categories: sweep through, romance,
Form: Classicism

Life Is Beautiful

Life is beautiful enjoy every moment of it
Not worth to throw a fit and quit!!!
Difficulties come and go… live
Happily till you are alive!!!!
Be a motivation in people’s life
For life comes only once so don’t strife!!!
Problems are temporary like the way happiness is
Lead life with ease!!!!
Make the most of opportunities around
Do not fear and frown!!!
Choose to live today
In all harmony through the way!!!
Forget the incidents that caused you pain
Fondly remember things at your gain!!!
Respect people, things and everything around you
For those would help your life sweep through!!!
Do things you always wanted
Before, for the rest of life you haunted!!!
Get a life to your life
For you deserve everything in rife!!!
Misery, sickness and loss no one can control
Keep together your Body and soul!!!
Take charge of your life TODAY! without a fuss
nobody but ….It’s ‘us’!
Give in your best
Leave to god the rest!!!
You are the blessed one to be given this life so beautiful
Chosen by the creator himself so make it fruitful!!
We all come with a limited life span
Remember!  NOT TO repent on your death bed for then nothing can you plan!!!
Categories: sweep through, life,
Form: Lyric
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