Best Thirsted Poems
Passing through framed windows like ours,
I recall your tales of reckless war and lost friends
that burned your innocence at 21... and though
you claimed flashes of courage, moist eyes
poured vulnerability looking calm, undaunted.
We both searched deeply into our souls
as a father is to his young daughter, that I wanted
to let you know, it was alright;
but that mound of shoulders turned away.
Down the years as officer and gentleman,
Time stole long weeks, absent from your dining chair,
leaving me resentful and bitter on hardened sills
until you arrive under crawling dock of stars.
But in free moments, how you cherished
me so; waking my cheeks at 3 am to race the winds,
to fly with a shooting neon, laughing with a blue moon.
You spoke of faith and honor if life dared a shame, oh
mild scent of your arms cuddling my girlish dreams...
until off you rode suddenly on heaven’s wheel.
I see you through all framed windows like ours,
that even if my iced breaths needed you more
as small flowers thirsted for rain, my anger was a cry
for love’s company... “ I have adored you
in moments of distance and nearness, if not
always, then for all eternity.”
Have I forgotten to open this, my soft, broken sigh?
Dad, everything is all right.
Ir0nic Zink's Your Personal Favorite Poem Contest
Resubmitted 5/19/2017
I was cursed with ink
intoxicating blank canvases
with toxic scribbles,
releasing twisted tales
of suppressed troubles.
I was a forsaken ebony rose
in satan's grasp,
kneeling on ungodly needs
in a gothic fortress
of woeful odes,
surrounded by black knights
and colorless blossoms,
searching for legitimate sestinas
and versatile villanelles
to ignite my quill to bleed
without semantic barriers.
Swaying like a pendulant,
on the edge between
light and darkness,
resembling midnight's
black ice queen,
I thirsted for a
universal prophecy.
A poet who would engrave
perennial verses upon my
discoloured healing heart.
To paint antique stones,
during sunless days
in a moonless kingdom.
A calligraphic catharsis,
adorning the sincere crown
of an imperial ivory king,
whose angelic voice
glitters like gems,
soothing insensitive beating drums
within my pondering pensive mind.
A majestic master of his quill,
reviving poetic intimacy,
fusing his musings
deep inside untouched chambers
with an unscratched itch,
of my undanced fandango.
F a t e has a way for
versifiers to assimilate.
From the first drop
of his couplet,
he had my tongue
rhyming to the rhythm
of his unspoken lyrics.
Now, I am a slave to
what I have become.
Handcuffed and blindfolded
by preserved petals
between perfumed pages
written from the tip of his
magical wand like fingers.
I am weaving crystal quartz
words in witching hours,
whilst he pours dulcet musings
incensed in white sage
over my rustic bronze silhouette,
as I am his willing mistress:
a submissive subservient pawn
to his silent slavery.
Throned in intricately carved
prose and poetry,
where monochrome strokes
of thin lines no longer perish.
There’s no need for a sorcerer
when his sentimental sonnets
are an addictive elixir.
I am deliriously comatose
and chained in piercingly
euphoric sagas of his saccharine soul.
Even Lilith seized the moment
to behold what belonged to her
In the name of infatuated love.
So this is me, stealing
scented seeds
sown along parallel paradigms
of his rightful Parnassian paradise,
d r o w n i n g in
metaphorical monograms,
leaving memoirs of a poetess~
seething glitters and gold
reborn from the depths of
a savior that saved
me from burnt chapters
of darkest oblivion.
I gave you a balloon,
It held my life inside.
Within a shiny rubber tube
components of my soul aligned,
a sign,
I became something new
for you...
Memories
Feelings
Ideas
Each speck
a tickle upon my breath,
a tiny bubble
of nuanced personality;
The strengths of me debrided
the secrets of my lungs,
pink and untold
for you to confide,
ease trouble
in eyes before me.
Yet
were you astute?
Could your mind compute
the depth
of the beautiful find
floating before you?
You bent,
my unique particles ended
their show of strength
broken in length;
You twisted,
crushed and divided
my dreams subsided...
Molded to an unrecognizable form,
I became your norm.
Though you never knew,
my secret hope to survive
my own gift
thrive and lift,
lay within you.
Your grip thirsted control so long,
the pieces of me left burst
to skitter away in song
among soaring clouds,
leaving shrouds of pain
grounded and gone...
Flying far from the land
one beautiful day,
away
from you
and the broken balloon that laid
in your hand.
He
nourished
my soul with
his promises,
and like a rosebud,
I thirsted for the rain
of beautiful vows that fell
from luscious lips I loved to kiss.
His very presence lit up my world,
and for a while, I thrived in his garden.
Suddenly the sunshine sustaining me
became endless days of dreary gray.
I’m wilting here now, knowing that
nothing he’d told me was true.
A bee, he sweetly sees
new blooms as I die,
petals plucked. He
loves me; he
loves me
not.
My veins bleed of Crimson defeat-
The way they flow with such ease and comfort
brings me to my remorseful knees…
I sleep with Ruby dreams and hope with
Magenta skies and no matter the
season or reason I am forever caught in
Scarlet secrets.
Tormented by the loss of heartfelt goodbyes
I linger into the hues I longed to hold as
a child.
A Sangria sunset always warmed my chill-
the way the sky set a scenery of satisfaction
overflowing with Blushed memories.
Freedom resides in the comfort of
loving arms.
My arms were born to hold only regret,
as my blood races and my body aches for
something other than Rouge temptation.
I wear shades of lipstick that
shatter my dignity...
I am nothing but a
stalking mourner full
of yesterday’s
atonement-
lost in a tragic moment.
Raspberries and Strawberries-
Cherries grown in my back yard.
They all share the color I have tried to
run from since I was burned by the Fire
of regret.
A Mahogany brick crumbled my soul,
as I thirsted for a glass of Merlot-
A fever of Garnet ran high in my head,
for I am nothing but the color of Red.
Red Contest
May 29, 2017
Dear Mom, you are someone very good.
That is how I’ve always thought of you.
Embracing your station of motherhood,
You raised five daughters well, and still you do
Everything you can for family; your love is true.
Always you have thirsted and searched for truth.
You passed the thirst for knowledge down to me.
Reading Bible stories of women strong like Ruth,
You taught us well about morality.
And we were blessed by your sincerity.
Yes, goodness exudes from you, Mother dear.
I can love my life because I’ve grown
Knowing I was loved, and though you are not near,
It’s for your devotion that to us you've always shown
that God is with you, and you’ll never walk alone.
Written April 23, 2016 for the To Mom Poetry Contest of Francine Roberts
A visionary wandered lost one night
inside a tempest thunderous and strong.
He looked for shelter in a canyon. Light
of moon poured down and bitter sweet of song. . .
For as the storm abated, he could hear
a tune that seemed to claim the palisade.
How haunting was that sound that filled his ear!
But no one was around. How was it made?
He sought, as one who thirsted for the truth,
illumination of this mystery.
He climbed on ancient rocks, an eager sleuth,
then came on what he knew to be the key. . .
He found a ghostly clue, a hieroglyph
of one lone flutist, on a smooth-walled cliff.
For Ghosts Contest/Sponsored by Carolyn & Jack
`
Exhaled sonnets call torrid on the eve
Breaths a lofty soar, luring thirsted sighs
Moistened drizzled flesh, sunset’s searing weave
Motions play beneath tropic amber skies
Lips of dampened dreams, meeting by the shore
Moonbeams touch your face, eyes of heaven’s glow
Whispers echo soft, melting ever pure
Fingers tracing curves, passions endless flow
Lulled as blushing waves drench our longing skin
Stardust wishes cast, lingering above
Promised minutes sing, harmonies begin
As we lie alone, deep within our love
Moans collect the wind, endings come to meet
Lost within the tide, summer’s sultry heat
6/9/20
For the Summers Heat Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
***At the bequest of a friend
or two this poem is a
continuation of Tennyson''s
'Ulysses'; though I don't
expect much glory for this
write, it was one of my
finer poetic attempts;
especially Tennyson who
I think was perhaps the
best.Like Ulysses,
Telemachus, his son now,
speaks to the masses in my
continuation...***
" On the great mount I have stood,
upon the shoulders of my father,
Ulysses ----
and I too tasted of war and conquest
and the breadth of many soul;
'lesser' men have thirsted less
than I, and fell to vice;
What 'fair' dole to fortune that I have
drank a mighty more,
yet have lived to wake with warm wife,
though their faces haunt the drears
of night....
Hammer ringing Plains of Troy
where Zephyr sleeps her lair,
and whispers upon the world
peace ----
then war, and legions carrion,
then better days come round;
When the apple of life is a fairer fruit,
and the tenants of Mother Earth
wiser with their short stay,
teach soft love ----
and make mighty the low,
and not a stomach tis barren ----
But alas! ----
Many moon has passed
since Odysseus walked The Isle
and pledged a greater good,
and 'tis darker yet lighter
these strange 'new' days
swift with doom, yet hope ----
resting always in her Helicon Hills;
The happy Isles lie 'neath the heart
which beats a tender song,
spirit of the Brae and vales.....
and the seas with their threshing ----
now they long the Lover''s Field.....
and Artemis to rear thy golden Kin,
the morning star thy diadem,
Aeonian with ancient youth;
Too long have the people wailed! -----
yet as deep earth must cry they -----
to the gods,
with one voice in the booms of thunder
and cracks betwixt the brooding night;
For justice too often sleeping
in her shady slumber.....
.....the snoring lion lazed
and stretched out in the fields of Troy,
The tongue-less Voice would call them
Lords of Peace;
(End of Part One)
Lacy nights with tender touches, oh, how I crave your embrace,
for I’ve never known something so beautiful as you, my sweet-
I use my charcoal to sketch your silhouette as the light dims your face,
for my parchment has thirsted for the curves of your waist.
Tracing each crescent of your soul entices my longing taste,
for since the first glance you swept me off my bare naked feet-
I use my pastels to add hues of pink to rosy cheeks, so chaste,
for my canvas is but a distant memory I never wish to erase.
October 19, 2016
i stacked sandbags against the
river of your fervent woe hoping
you would stay safe and dry-
but when the tide crashed, you crashed,
and i am having a hard time letting go;
for you are the one who i wished
loved me most…
now i am utterly in love with your
cradlesong ghost
feeding love to you as you starved,
hungered and thirsted for redemption,
the kind only the Lord can bestow-
i tried hard
(too hard)
to make you believe i am the only one who
can hold you when winter frost lingers,
soft white snow sadly whispers solitude,
for you slipped right out of my
sonorous fingers
touching antipathy,
fearing what can never be known
has become my familiar habit-
you need forgiveness
and
i need-
you
as i walk toward your grave
i feel the love you did crave;
goodbye, beloved-
you were gentle and brave
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
12.2.19
Your Best New Poem Poetry Contest
Emile Pinet
You startled me, like a pin prick to my heart-
forever leaving me breathless for your starvation.
I craved your tender touch right from the start
and thirsted for your deep purple longing sensation.
I fear not the kismet we carry, but you betraying,
I dread not what we share, but you not staying.
For you are the reason for my God-given creation-
and I’m infatuated with the love you’re portraying.
Purple2 Cash Prize Poetry Contest
Kevin Shaw
January 25, 2019
Light shimmered on the lake at moonrise,
with a breathtaking view that glimmered.
Beneath the glow of Luna's pale luminance,
the night was calm on the banks of the firth
except for the cooing of a lonesome dove,
who thirsted like me, yearning to be loved.
September 10, 2022
Bitesize Poem No52 Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier
Constitution says All men are created equal
We live in the home of the brave
But we annihilated the Red man
And made the black man a slave
We imprisoned the Yellow man
And judged the poor and the gay
Only a rich straight white Christian
Can be a free man today
We thirsted for power, now isn't it odd
We raped, pillaged and plundered in the Name of God
We committed crimes time will never erase
Then thumped a Bible in your face
We sin compulsively assuming God will forgive it
Then preach Christianity but we never live it
We formed a bigoted society where hate is the rule
If we accept others as Equals we call our own a fool
We sit in judgement of others, I guess we forgot
This isn't the way that Jesus taught
I'm a straight white Christian so maybe I'll fall
But I'll die believing God created us all
So when I read the Bible and God's Children I see
I'll never assume it's only children like me.
I no longer listen to your bigoted view.
Equality for all, not just people like you.
Equality means Equality and Bigotry is Bigotry
Jesus said "Love Thy Neighbor" NO DESCRIPTIVE ADJECTIVE.
Today a small hand grips a gun
Yesterday a small hand shook a rattle
Today a heart blackened by rage
Yesterday a heart thirsted for love
Today a mind lost in confusions abyss
Yesterday a mind hungered for knowledge
Today a soul wounded by constant torment
Yesterday a soul groped for the light of hope
Today a frigid pair of unrelenting eyes
Yesterday a warm pair of innocent eyes
Today, a bullet claims one life
Tomorrow, the chair of justice will take another
Yesterday, social complacency murdered two