Best Tailing Poems
Enamored, I sit, in mystique of space and time
Glancing at intricacies of ebullience sublime
Contemplating mystery of universe all alone
Through echoes of destiny, heard and known,
Where birds roam, prairies bloom, oceans flow,
And lauding its miracles tranquil seasons glow
Enchanting passions of life, intimately I know.
Life at a glance is a bouquet of fresh flowers,
Exuberant pitter-patter of April rain showers,
Valleys and hills gracing resplendent meadows,
Sometimes sun-lit, sometimes in shadows,
Invigorating senses in fragrance of budding rose
Life is a bond of love that blossoms and grows--
A melody, a rhythm, a song every heart knows.
Alas, the happy vibes reside, tailing teary eyes,
For every smile somewhere, someone cries,
Dark clouds often daub expanse of blue skies,
Dense fogs precede beauteous morning rise,
And every celebration of success victory calls,
Someone on a steep-climb stumbles and falls.
Yet, hope of a new dawn always pierces dark
And replaces wolf-howls with sweet songs of lark,
So, I let mornings rise on ebullience of blue skies
Enamored in space, time, letting life actualize.
March 9, 2021
Poem of the week on March 14, 2021
Placed 4th: Life at a glance premium contest
Upon my life your winter still drizzles
Evoking the morns that arose in despair
And nights that steered dreams into sorrow,
As I sit all alone in valleys of destitute
Where memories haunt pitfalls of yore.
Tender and sweet, you were my ruby rose--
In garden of love, essence of fragrance,
Enchanting petals in butterfly dreams.
But seasons soon ravaged resplendent meadows--
Drought of emotions dried up the crops,
And red-robins left, abandoning empty nests,
When you relinquished the vermilion dawns
And chased sunsets in twilight of sundown
Forfeiting the sunrise that illuminated past--
You heard me there, but said nothing at all.
As arrival of fall marked the summer's end
A budding rose curled-up in travails of desires.
And dreams that cherished revelry of night
Confronted the day that endlessly rained,
When you roamed deserts tailing a mirage
Leaving behind lotus-pond, full of white swans,
Claiming of dissonance in nightingale's song.
Yet, I keep hanging on to visions of spring
Wishing for rivers to rush down from mountains
And blossoms that faded to host a new growth.
But in memoirs of yesteryear there is no tomorrow
For sometimes my dear, love just isn't enough.
September 10, 2019
Poem of the day on September 12, 2019
Placed 1st: Sometimes love is not enough poetry contest
Sponsor: Silent One
Placed 3rd: Your best free verse of 2019 by John Hamilton
Placed 1st: Strand select contest O by Brian Strand
The seas softly speak with voices that talismanically tweak,
Magical maids in their mystique porpoises of their physique…
Ambient aqua-marine waving seductresses of their craving,
A splashing sylph spraying through wandering waters braving…
Goddesses of the dousing deep show finesse as they leap,
Enchanting when they weep collecting desires for their keep…
Landing on our sandy shore all eyes on the deceptive décor,
Mystic Mermaids to adore Lorelei longing from the Ocean floor…
A siren seducer submersing a temptress of the water traversing,
Below lavender skies nursing her delinquent desires dispersing…
Mesmerizing mermaids silently sailing with their mermen tailing,
A sorceress in their scaling intoxicated by their Venus unveiling.
Sept.23.2019
MERMAIDS Poetry
Sponsored by: Line Gauthier
Placed 4'th...Thank You
Europe was frozen in a tide of hate
The genius Jew was being persecuted
Bound to the intransigence of fate
His violin played the tunes they executed
Now it was time to think as they electrocuted
The hopes of young people in the dawn of their history
Whose own stories would have so much mystery
Down in the baker’s the story ran around
Hitler was marching to a frenzied tune
He bruised the flowers underneath the ground
And told them works of genius had no boon
While the bridal pair planned their honeymoon
On country roads, a visit to the town
Where they would see wonders and a family found
The day of the wedding dawned so fair
It would seem creation began again
Every single person going there
Wore the best they could, the men
With dark serge suits, and a fountain pen
For Granddad to write to his daughter
Who lived across three thousand miles of water
The wedding Nora had lived for all her life
Now like fate, could be too late to cancel
Nothing would please her more than being a wife
No longer a woman her relatives liked to spancel
They went the evening before to the quiet chancel
Made their vows in private for each other
Far away, war’s declaration on a brother.
His thoughts were far away this harvest morning
The corncrake singing in the flowery ditch
Struck into his heart like a heavy warning
That life was choked with love, so rich
A fantasy dove-tailing in augured pitch
Be faithful to me, the bird sang, my husband
I never want to wear another’s riband
She wore the oyster dress her sister gave her
It was soft and crumpled like a clotted cream
Her veil was raised when he kissed her
And she thought she was fainting from the dream
What could matter now, but what could seem
His handsome face, his hair so fine and black
There wasn’t one feature where he lacked
Her face was lovely as a golden flower
Her dress, a simple thing with fine kick-pleat
It lay like wisps of cloud upon her tower
Where beauty, youth and kindness all could meet
Such tiny pearls slid on her throat so neat
Their hour of tortured chastity was over
Profusion, perfection, they were like gods in clover.
(c) Rosemarie Rowley from "In Memory of Her", 2004 Dublin
A dozen passports, with his photos, confused the law wherever he’s been--
Because he lives in the shadows, and has a number instead of a name.
He spends most nights in casinos, with ladies of dubious fame,
And wears the choicest tuxedos, with the most impressive brand name.
He’s a Double-O-something. It’s said he’s got a license to kill.
You better take my meaning: if he says he’ll get you, he will!
He always drives something faster, with accessories you just can’t buy,
Which leaves trails of disaster. You can’t catch him, don’t even try!
You might spot him in Paris, tailing a gangster or drinking fine wine;
Or playing cards with a terrorist, who soon will be doing hard time.
He’s a Double-O-something. It’s said he’s got a license to kill.
You better take my meaning: if he says he’ll get you, he will!
You perforate my normality
with snap-shots of the past.
Images of yesteryear form
a slide show which interjects,
dove-tailing, sneaking in to
the now with the stealth of
the stealthiest fox.
Distracted from the present
my mind meanders down-stream,
pausing at a bridge arched over now
and then. Remembering when I was younger,
carefree, flitting between hearts,
scattering the lovelorn in my wake
like sown seeds, lost, never harvested.
Then flippancy of youth. The transience.
Easy come easy go -
before the burden of emotion takes its toll.
My fickle fingers touched your heart -
then dropped it, hot potato-like;
craved for then petulantly discarded,
out of fashion, gone, onto the next .....
Yet here you are merging then with now.
You found me somehow, and I you.
Back to the future. Time travelled
and catapulted into familiarity.
The perforation of normality.
Present in the present with the steel
of the steeliest fox.
Over the Horizon
Tailing behind, waves
undulate in rhythm
with plunging of oars,
spraying clouds of
mist in mischief.
On murky shallow
shores, beaming
buds candescent
in pink, sway merrily,
illumining valleys
eclipsed by grief.
Contest River line(earlier submission)
Unrhymed six lines
Syllables 8,8,8,8,10,10
Date March 2 2017
Now submitted for ANY POEM WRITTEN IN MARCH 2017
DATE. April 5 2017
Mosquito Bat
Peering closely, I sought to quickly skim through the online latest news …
True to form, I am a stickler for keeping up with the latest happening news…
Given this internet age and its borderless media reach, there’s always something…
So much to read, so much to keep up to date, just so one’ll be a better man for reading…
Then it happened, even as I was about to scroll the displayed page with the mouse button..
There came a familiar high pitched whine, softly at first but intensifying as its source approaches…
Christ! A blasted mosquito, high tailing in my direction, to my right pinky ear, to be precise…
I froze all motion, rolled and strained my eyeball to squint out of the corner of my right eye…
I saw, at the periphery of my field of vision, the fast approaching obnoxious blood sucker…
Silvery wings furiously beating as it made a bee line to my ear, a beacon for a typical bloody dinner…
Cautiously yet sparing no delay, I reached out for my trusty rechargeable electric mosquito bat…
The offending insect was just about to land, circling in ever tightening circles as I grasped my bat…
Bat upraised in hand, I did a quick head swivel , the dastardly insect was now plain in my sight …
Ah ha, now you are my victim, you stupid little insect! I gloated inwardly as I eyeballed the insect..
Dinner lost, the sudden shift in air movement must have warned this bloodthirsty sucker…
There was a quick change in its flight pattern, it tried to fly out of my vision, tried to flee from danger …
Here, eat this, you bloody miserable ungodly insect! Unhurriedly, almost leisurely, I waved my bat…
Right across the flying path of the fleeing little insect, there was no escape for such was its fate…
A sharp crackle and a quick spark of light, the poor mosquito was no more, no longer in sight…
A plume of whitish smoke, an acrid smell of burnt organic material, yup it was no more alright…
Mentally, I blew across the end of my smoking gun barrel like any swashbuckling vigilante..
Gee, what a lethal combination, me and this rechargeable electric mosquito bat each day…
Got to get a spare, just in case, like my daddy used to say, get ready for a rainy day…
An electric mosquito bat, dear readers, it is a must- have gadget to get, to keep up to date........
Sweating,
bench pressing,
ripping my chest..
Urgg,
the final stretch.
Whew,
she breezes by.
Crop dusting her
"love Spell Perfume".
WOW,
my eyes follow her across the room.
In dream-land,
I've lost focus,
under hypnosis,
now "tailing" that tail.
bent over,
tan thighs.
That apple bottom
caught my eye.
No surprise though,
I'm a booty kind of guy.
Those blue latex tights,
fit your hips so right.
I fight,
fight my growing urge.
Candy for my eyes,
such visual delight.
I can't focus on my work-out,
with that magnificent sight.
Sweet, caramel apple,
ample eye candy.
Erotic, mass provoking,
thoughts encourage Gym-Nasties...
**Concluding the Gym-Nasties collaboration started by Linda-Marie Bariana "Sweetheart"
Jared Pickett
12/17/09
Asavvy1
A contest a test,
Also ending tailing test,
In contrast,human on this planet,
For human,test a beginning not ending,
Adam sat for the first test,
Under the roof of Heaven,
Sitting on the golden desk,
Adam lost the first test,
Copying Satan's script,
Thrown to Earth like a cigarette,
Since then,
Many tests ,contests,protests and contrasts,
A coin has two sides,
No toss with a coin only one side,
Head and tail two sides,
Win and loss the two sides,
In toss,
This or that the choice,
Winning way wise,
The loss we protest,
Winning,only purpose,
No protest this all to accept,
The truth is,anything below best is not loss,
It is not the best,
Good or better at least,
At school we sit for tests,
Some times we pass,
Some times we fail,
Again,attempts or forgets,
In life illness is loss,
Wellness is win,
All in ill like cure,
No one waits telling fate,
From illness to wellness like loss to win,
"Not to win but to take part",
"Your's today tomorrow mine"-
The twine golden rules of all contests,
In a contest winning only a contrast!
Judy awoke early this cool morning
and climbed out of her soft warm bed;
quietly she moved without a warning
and was gone before anyone was fed.
Judy had long, blonde, curly hair,
eyes as green as the deepest sea.
Her skin velvet smooth, Snow White fair
with a dimpled smile so light and carefree.
Judy felt older, today she turned four
she left everyone still sleeping.
Carefully unlocked the back screen door;
through early dawn she went creeping.
The barnyard animals began stirring
some of them met her in the yard.
Judy, without haste, went a hurrying
while the dog on the porch stood guard.
With pet chicken Susie tailing her side;
Judy walked to the hen house door.
Gently opened the door up wide,
looked about on the damp dirt floor.
In a basket Judy gathered some eggs
carefully placing them in one by one.
Standing beside her, Susie softly begs
until her plotted task was finally done.
Judy crept quietly into the house,
hoping not to awake the snoozing clan.
She moved as silent as a mouse,
since hatching hen eggs was her plan.
On the couch pillow she placed eggs on top
positioned her bottom, sat very still.
Suddenly she heard a crack, crack, pop, pop;
hatching a baby chicken was a thrill.
Judy arose from the pillow to see,
the eggs were all cracked and a mess.
Oh how she wished she were still three;
she knew she would have to confess.
The house was starting to awake;
momma came down the stairs to cook.
Judy must tell mom about her mistake
before her mom decides to look.
Happy Birthday Judy, her momma said;
what do you have in the sauce pan?
Set the table and toast some bread,
call your daddy and sister Ann.
A soft kiss fell on Judy’s cheek
as tears rolled down her somber face.
Judy sat down the pan to speak
and received a soothing embrace.
Momma took the cracked eggs in hand
stirred them up with bacon and cheese.
Scrambled eggs was what mom had planned
promptly served them for all to please.
Copyright © 2005 by Caryl Muzzey
Out of the darkness she moves unseen;
her feline silhouette against
the full moon.
She raises her nose
and looks up to the lit night sky,
switching her tail left to right ,
she strolls across the fence not shy,
prowling into the thickening night.
The fickle moon so bold
masquerading as a pumpkin
with a wicked glowering grin
hovers above the autumn trees turn red and gold.
Wind violently howls showing
its wrath, tailing a fleeting
wizard's unforgettable black hood
stalking the night woods
floating and flowing
out of your dark side.
Beware to be lured outside
if you dare, feast your eyes.
10/18/2017
Contest Name: Could You, Please
Sponsored By: Broken Wings
Foot on gas pedal, tailing
ghosts in darkest hour of night,
I find a road to the past,
we once called home. I knock,
but your love is a sealed door
with broken knob. Even if
I could pry it off its hinges,
enter the hollow space inside,
silence would be my prize,
conspicuous like a tarnished trophy
thick with cobwebs on the mantle.
Since you’ve left, I hibernate
through my days, a bear
that has perished before spring.
I try to forget your countless smiles.
Distinct colors in blushing cheeks
of a smitten morning sun fade
away as she rises over blue waves
in your eyes. Most of all, I try
to forget the unique sound of your sigh,
your contagious laughter, and the way
your voice would bounce off me
like an excited child when
you said, I love you.
written 3/30/17 for Doors Contest
Once there's a moon
Lived by dangle lights in vacant space
Encircle with no purpose, but created as a boon
Twirl and twirl, lonely on its pace
Collecting stars and herding constellations
Beneath the blank surface they dance together
Catch verses in lyrics, and conceal the lonesome in consolation
The moon makes darkness falls into a splendour to remember
Everything just perfect until dawn has spoken
Little moon has be gone as it down splash another night
Travelling alone, detain not to be broken
Find another place to cheer as it might
Bathed in light, forget of other presence
The moon is not just alone
Planets, fireballs, and satellites tailing behind its luminescence
For moon always facing the side that never shown
Beyond awareness, the moon drown in its shadow
Forget that other sparkles face the same lonesome
They only mumble about how quiet and pitch dark the black meadow
Until they realised their numbers and sum
The moon on throne when the eclipse has arrived
The loneliness fade as crescent smile on its face
Though all the lights are off and deprived
Entire universe feels nothing but grace
Little moon shines even brighter
For all the grace showered it with love and laughter
.
She's back just like a comet,
a winding gold dust of love
tailing her since we last met.
Cerise lips stretch soft, slow.
A simile of her smile glows.
Her bubbling gladness show.
Her face, exuberant, vivid.
Pearly teeth, pinkish gums,
she's playful, confident, fervid.
The core of what matters
shines in her inner goodness,
touching the good in others.
Her eyes laugh with regret.
To me she grins her goodbye.
in a blink, she's gone, my comet!
.