Best Tangibly Poems
Gentle on My Mind
You play along the edges,
of every memory worth having.
You have been there since,
I care to look back.
I was stupid,
fearful,
distrustful,
and dangerous.
You… ever were patient,
kind, and slow to anger,
walking a measured gait.
Cowboy,
You speak in a voice,
that melts my heart.
but your real words,
more often are unvoiced,
but always felt,
tangibly… changing
the fixed temperament
left behind,
in the wake of users,
defilers of dreams.
You make me look up at the stars.
You make me find new paths…
You are a cold drink,
to my parched journey.
Now I no longer…
walk alone.
A withered and separated flower lay squashed in bent stature.The wind silently erodes the remaining petals sequentially, with each pulse of the air.
A distant nightmare, tangibly manifested, the echoing warning from the past.
A trapped piece of newspaper married to a low-lying hedge branch, concealed from notice, dead from purpose.
An hourglass society, scuttling around in organized vice and engineered hypocrisy with time to dictate and money to distract.
A plague of opinions in this boundless possibility never reaching bedrock. A gash made upon the earth, a slow
puncture untreated in our hourglass existence we believe isn’t moving.
It’s taken many years of falling
To finally recognize my calling:
Through miles and miles of endless seeking
All the while truth kept retreating.
Just out of reach, fading from sight
Like dew in the morning
At the break of light…
Rising imperceptibly, tangibly unreal,
It’s taken years of toil and tears
For my calling to reveal.
Itself, in a many splendored way like
Butterflies from moths…
Beauty is as beauty does
Without counting what it’s lost.
Down in the tunnel of yesterdays
Countless minutes, hours, years...
Hearing the call, after all
Is music to my mortal ears.
That came it seems as love in dreams
Without warning or affair:
The calling was like falling
Freely through thin air.
Until I hit reality and summer struck me cold:
It’s been a long, long lonely winter
And I’m no longer feeling old.
She pervades and unveils all that I have kept hidden for so long
I do not know her but I hear her voice in and around my mind
It is weightless and I know she wills it in sound with ease
She is harmony, a beauty I would be so favoured to find
The friendly nudge at my side when I need it most
I do not know her but I feel her on my skin magically without touch
She engenders love innocently in all she does
It is a glow around her that is infectious and unrivalled by much
Her soul is saved for me and her gaze meets mine softly as does the sun at dusk
I do not know her but I see her eyes piercing mine
Without force nor resistance there is a wild and untainted kinship forged
She is a reflection that light overrides darkness, a sign
Her essence is the burst of aromas that fill the air around me
I do not know her but I taste the very air she breathes so tangibly
It is crisp and light without a hint or trace of impurity
A fresh tonic to heal, to restore and to strengthen vigorously
As if I wonder and follow her, unaware yet willingly
I do not know her but I smell her presence in rooms she has visited
A remnant I could not mistake for any other if I tried
There is something to be said for peace so beautiful and unlimited
Have you ever tasted the air in such a way as to be swept away by it?
I dare to say I have and yet quietly here I sit
How strange are these things that unequivocally bind me to her?
I dare not think on it, for rationality will not explain what is and what will occur
In spite of total darkness between our paths and the questions I have
I sense I will know her because once paths cross, we will reach out half and half
Titans tilting, tangibly human windmills
Swaying sentries, harboring haloed witness
Lofted coal mines, timber canary cages
Whispers from redwoods
Bite Size Poem no34 Poetry Contest
INTIMACY
Interweave ecstasy
Intertwined tangibly
Infusion of your smile
Irises make me blush
I crave your mind and heart
Intimacy with you
Idyllic life for two
2/25/2017
For days now he had hungered.
His search took him along many an avenue,
where his pleas were so harshly ignored.
But his need was such he had to continue,
so to all that he met he implored.
Many turned him away with brusque impatience,
what had he to offer them they all sneered.
Still he searched with all true innocence,
of the way he was evidently feared.
Daringly he turned his gaze upon all,
all those who walked the same paths,
all those who he heard from over their wall,
where they tended their gardens with care,
ever hoping soon he might find that one,
that one person who would freely share.
His recent loss still burned in his heavy heart,
all the devotion he had given and received
had been beyond reproach from the very start.
She had been the one and now alone he grieved.
His thoughts turned to that day when he awoke,
to find his companion gone but yet still there...
No response came as usual to his gentle stroke,
still and cold, so very cold as he proffered care.
All that long day his hope lingered with them,
until night fell and hope slid away numbed,
tangibly wandering out into the dark and mean
moon shadows cast behind their wind rattled shed.
A sharp whistle seemed to bring him from his dream,
it turned his head and stopped him still in his tracks.
He shook his head twice hardly believing the scene,
then ran swiftly towards his mistress now back!
Joyous reunion after those last empty days
filled both as they then embraced so lovingly,
her hands no longer felt cold but her eyes,
her eyes did seem a little pale and misty.
The pair were soon jauntily walking back home
to their ramshackle old potting shed.
All the spiders would ask why did they roam,
neither would answer as they settled to bed.
Down the avenue none had noticed their sheer joy,
none had seen them walk by in such evident glee.
None had heard their footfalls or calls of good boy,
but minutes after one lad saw what didn't flee...
'Hey Mum' he called into the kitchen,
'Come and look at this old dog over here.'
'There's nowt you can do for it Marvin,
poor old thing - must have been a stray dear.'
Back in the shed Good Boy and Mistress rested,
peace was with them amidst peat and dead fern.
Neither ever pined or wept again in their bed,
the hunger was gone now, never more to return.
©Rhumour
June 12th 2009
Across in the meadow the animals stall
As away in the distance the farmer does call
To the old sheep dog "Shep"
"Away, come around"
The sheep respond cautiously
All milling no sound
The evening shadows lengthens
Tangibly a stillness descends
As nature's heartbeat changes
Chickens in alarm
A scurry of farmhands
There's a fox on the farm
Evading capture, in triumph he gains
Deft in his movements
His prize he contains
The farmer's gun up to his eye
Assuming the stance
Heaves a heavy sigh
Seeing his prey disappearing
Nowhere to be seen
As darkness creeps over
where the fox has been.
Souls arrive on earth compelled to survive dramatic impacts.
Each child of spirit will eventually reach for reasons to be here.
Living finds the soul striving for intangible roots, tangibly real.
Foundations are sought to lead, gift and uplift one’s true self.
Fertile roses grow blind to the forces aligned on their behalf.
Unconscious insistence diminishes man’s resistance to its menu.
Layers of intuitive insight incites and invites us to a spiritual level.
Colors of otherness within us highlight discoveries of all authentic.
Revealing layers of our source may be sought and found in prayer.
Uniting with God grants exciting stances on His supporting plateau.
Mindfulness is the plume of God’s rhythm that rhymes our bloom.
Sunshine feels tangibly divine
divine basking in the sunshine.
Beguiled flowers favor the wild
wild roses enchant the beguiled.
Tents and backyard barbecue scents
scents that recall sleeping in tents.
Laughs over childish children's gaffes
gaffes are accompanied by laughs.
Splits sprinkled with sugary bits
bits enhance the flavor of splits.
Fun times inspiring youth to run
run and enjoy summertime fun.
(Mirror Sestet)
08,05,2019
Afraid of
What am I afraid of...Really.
is what scares me in thought, silly?
What I'm afraid of ...
is my Life never having meaning;
to never reach my full potential is what my soul be screaming.
Absolutely no dreaming...
I'm afraid of the drug...killing me;
for the Word declares,
that sin full grown...delights only the enemy.
I'm afraid of catching these sicknesses, thoroughly checked out
even got a doctor's pass
I'm afraid to have a gun
I'd only use it, to tell the world to kiss my ass.
I'm afraid I'll have to leave my family
with which whom this journey began;
I'm afraid it'll end in poverty
and I'll never have had a true friend.
I'm afraid to stop smoking the drug,
it has a place with me it's been my friend;
tangibly....
I could touch it, taste it, feel it too,
but I'm scared, cause it manages me.
I'm scared somehow these bruises on my heart;
have held me back awhile.
wondering, pondering inside my mind
what am I?
worth to my child.
I'm scared I'll never be able to tell someone I'm hurt
and that life to me is on some bull-S#$t.
I'm afraid of the circle that goes round in life
just fire up, another spliff.
I'm terrified of putting my trust in some of my fellow peers.
Seems to me what was printed on one's;
reversed,
in God they have not fear.
I'm afraid of the titles given by men,
conforming me to what you say I'll be;
but my faith's a little higher,
waiting on the wire, sent by the heavenly's.
I'm scared that I may not trust too long
and push love away as I've always done;
not forgiving myself, dreadful thoughts of the past;
I know I need the love of the Son.
No one likes the truth served by pen on paper
it's short and bitter to the taste.
Being afraid of what I'm really scared of
is missing out on the Grace.
So I've arrived at this point in my penning
of this little what I'm afraid of ....real and finally;
is to open my heart, because of hurts in the past,
to receive HIS love,
that's given to me....Unconditionally.
My thoughts have rounded to you again ,
you are so distracting . I want my thoughts to ease
themselves with reverie and rest upon all that you are .
My examinations hold you undividedly
and are always pleasantly delicious .
I want to swim in all your colors
and dive below the surface. I want to see you as nobody sees you ,
every shade and shadow and hue lit with a
clear beam of light highlighting all that is tangibly held within .
To make you freely visible and to appreciate the volume
which is filled in you .
You hold me like so many others who gaze intently
upon all that can be seen in you.
A life so precious and quality endearing , I want to touch
that beauty and hold it through every age in time .
I want all to know what I see .
To reach out and posses everything that makes you unique.
To bath every shade in the light that we may fully see the vision .
That it my be planted firmly grow and take root
and become breathtaking in it’s future.
I have made them visible so that all may see your Glory.
So that our Love will be a shining light for all
COPYRIGHT © 2015
C Michael Miller
PoetryofProvidence
Roman 13:8
ESV
Owe no one anything, except to love each other,
for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.
why
why
why does
the room spin
ever so
slow?
what
what
what does
this pattern
of colors
mean?
muted…
fading…
gone
why are the
stars all just
right out of
reach?
and
why are you
tangibly
close, yet so
far?
here…
now…
I’m shrouded
in darkness
with no chance
at all
for
light
here…
here…
in the dark
—————
for the Gymnopedie No 1 Poetry Contest
sponsored by Craig Cornish
written on 07/23/2022
Link to gymnopedie: https://youtu.be/S-Xm7s9eGxU
Alone, we sit.
The silence of words
best left unspoken
drowns out
the din
of busy, bustling
people.
Coming, going,
chatting, and laughing.
Living just outside
of our small
plane of reality.
They cannot perceive
the fervent thoughts
we share.
Only our eyes speak,
and voluminously.
Darting
and flashing,
fleeing
and chasing.
Caged fireflies
frantically searching
for a way out
of their jars.
Their eyes do not see
the light behind
the glass of ours.
Only we know
what to look for.
We see the light
in one another.
Only we know,
the meaning in our,
outwardly, blind stares.
In the moment,
in our minds, we are
perched at the helms
of raucous trains of thought,
careening, on ramshackle tracks,
towards one another.
Unable and unwilling
to change direction or pace.
The world whizzes by
in streaks of grey.
A small white light ahead,
all that catches the eye.
And so, we stare straight on.
Excited and terrified.
Anticipation shakes in my fingers,
but they do not leave the throttle,
rushed breaths shake my body,
my heart shakes with it.
A whistle sounds.
And so, we sit
seemingly unmoving,
tangibly quite,
tranquilly
awaiting the crash.
I got used to your tactful presence in my life
And to the pleasant thought that you still look for me.
None of us wants to reach for a surgical knife
To cut us in half because there is no “We”.
In the forest I lost sight of the way to you
And then I woke up in the middle of the night
To recall the pensive eyes and the smile I knew,
But there were stars only and the moon in sight.
Finding the winding path, I could retain my dreams;
Tangibly, and day after day, and for ever.
I’ll try to find it anew with the first sunbeams;
The weather was still adverse so far, however.
So please don’t vanish in the depths of the unknown
Even though there is no chance for me and you,
And even though you mustn’t cross the banned zone
Where my tears mixed with the morning dew…