Best Tip Of My Tongue Poems
There is a poem in my heart,
that beats in different dialects.
Da ist ein Gedicht in meinem Herzen,
which flows freely through my veins.
Il y à un poème dans mon cœur,
that tickles the tip of my tongue.
Existe um poema no meu coração,
which dances with a million sighs.
Wo xinzhong, youyi shou shi,
that is suppressed by emotionless expression.
Mery dil mein bi aik nazam hai,
silent, as it cannot be heard through speech.
Jest wiersz w moim sercu,
unwritten, as it cannot be read through words.
Am o poezie in inima mea,
that hides behind a dynasty of lyrics.
Det er et dikt i mitt hjerte,
which only serenades internal chambers.
Yparxei ena poihma sthn kardia mou,
that conducts symphonies with my mind.
V moemy serzi jyve poezia,
which may never be understood.
Mei wor echo kèn non ngasangasei,
that whispers words for my beloved.
There is a poem in my heart,
because my heart is a poem.
The Silent One
25 April 2018
I forgot myself today
as melancholic melodies
overwhelm each beat
of my wandering heart.
The sanctimonious sun deceives
as a bitter breeze breathes
against sullen silent surfaces.
Recycled emotions penetrate
with a repetition of deep sighs.
My spiritless soul strays, but is
happy to be lost in lyrical lament.
As the Nightingale chants its
continuous regretful resonance,
the tip of my tongue aches
to whisper your amorous name, but
holds back knowing you can't hear.
Without your enchanted vision,
neglected eyes perish.
Without your perfumed presence,
senses remain scentless.
Without your tender touch,
fragile petals won't blossom.
As a cascade of sandcastle emotions
infiltrate stubborn sierra barriers.
Violent tears erupt,
demolishing hardened walls.
What used to be bitter breaths and
spiteful sighs are now regretful cries.
Your silent goodbye still haunts
as the lips grieve for one last kiss.
I forgot myself today,
but have not forgotten your love.
The Silent One
Simple Musing
29 November 2017
(Fiction)
Walking upon silent parched paths,
under speechless scarlet skies.
Your name sits upon the tip of my tongue,
listening to the susurration of my heart.
Each vibration echoes tones of lament,
conflicted by the principles of time.
Adrift in the midst of gladness and sadness,
in a plot without a twist, lost in blackness and slackness,
through turbulent trials, I yearn for you to return.
Distance remains an unknown intangible pain,
but visions of your timid cute brown eyes remain.
How your mouthwatering scent seduced senses.
How your luscious lips dissolved all walled defences.
Now I yearn for queen of my heart to re-appear,
to sleep in each others arms, into the new year.
Adrift in the midst of gladness and sadness,
in a plot without a twist, lost in blackness and slackness,
through turbulent trials, I yearn for you to return.
Without you the mind is misplaced in marshlands,
where intimacy is lost to complex riddles called life.
Under cold ebony skies, your memories flicker like candlelight,
you are the flame, which insulates my heart with devotional delight.
Silent One
26 December 2019
Wanted to experiment with a mix free verse and rhyme.
After contemplating calling it a free verse or rhyme, I settled for lyric.
Maybe an idea for a contest.
As shades of grey overwhelm white clouds,
their rain tears begin to pitter and patter,
creating a pattern upon my skin.
Like a dehydrated petal, I taste their
tenderness with the tip of my tongue.
A gypsy breeze kisses my skin's shivers,
as I gaze at my muddy decaying garden -
roses look rusty, but their thorns remain.
As my eyes close in silent stillness,
I'm lost in a melancholic moment -
when I was like a vibrant spring bloom
but I wonder why my roots crumbled.
Life moves so fast,
but some of us struggle to grow.
Some images remain forgotten,
some promises remain broken,
so, I ponder what happened,
to those childhood dreams and schemes -
when the mind cared not for meaning,
only hidden treasures we would find.
How many are still searching,
how many souls are at peace?
How empty is your jar?
Reflecting upon those who arrived,
hardly any stayed - few left an impression -
most left without understanding.
Some still live within boxes of my heart,
especially those who lifted me when I fell,
but there was only a few
and I regret the ones I hurt,
forgive the ones who caused me pain,
but, I shall never forget.
We can never escape our past,
some of us will never really heal,
memories are like lost photos,
stored in a dusty album.
I awaken from my reverie,
as conkers fall at my feet, cracking their spiky shells.
A ray of light breaks from a canopy of leaves,
reflecting upon my face - I begin to a smile.
I can't recall when my bubble floated away,
but, I embrace the rain and what it brings.
I accept what the winds take with them,
because I can feel the warmth of the sun.
Become the gardener of your own life.
Roaming among a sea of stars,
like a feather adrift in the breeze,
I wandered into kismet's bazaar.
From all the exotic scents and colours,
I became hypnotised by your guise.
Gazing into your reverie eyes,
you blushed like a lilac sunset.
Our souls reflected like bismuth crystals,
as hues shimmered upon forgotten lips.
I desired to decorate your sultry sighs
in a garland of holy petals,
showering you in a fountain of confetti,
creating a trail of opulent pastels.
Yet, all shades fade away,
as so much that is precious
is stolen or lost forever,
so with this porcelain heart,
where in between every beat,
the tip of my tongue calls your name,
I will adore you from a distance -
for I am just a hummingbird
in your horizon.
Simple Musing
I am a girl,
Everyone sees it.
I graciously accept the label,
Twirling in a girls spool,
And playing it up for others.
Sometimes I feel an itch,
In a place I can't reach.
There are times when it quells,
When my voice cracks,
And I am somewhere else.
Where my hair is to my neck,
And my voice bellows.
But I am brought back to reality,
Because I am a girl.
He comes out again,
Stilling me when girls are asked to line up,
Twitching when a teacher asks for a 'strong boy',
I hold him back,
A slap on the wrist,
A prisoner in a cell.
But in the deepest of my thoughts,
I am free,
Completely and utterly.
He is with me,
Unchained,
But it ends every morning I wake.
I step out of the shower,
Hair cascading down,
As I stand in front of my reflective captor,
A deep rumbling comes from inside me,
And he bubbles up to the surface,
Itching and scraping at my soul.
I claw at the confines of my chest,
And he bursts out like dynamite,
Sparks flowing,
Tingles of electricity follow my nerves,
And I truly see him,
Staring back at me,
He smiles softly and my eyes open wide,
The words linger on the tip of my tongue,
But they stay rooted in my brain,
As him and I both realize,
I am a boy.
In her playground of romance,
swings of destiny swayed gently,
as a merry-go-around span endlessly,
so in a state of dizziness,
I crept inside, unaware, in my sleepiness,
I had been treading upon flowers beneath my feet,
as their fragrance faded, her spirit wept in echoes of betrayal,
but her tongue could not explain,
so, I gifted her three dahlias from my soul's oasis;
purple for prosperity,
red for passion and
white for innocence.
I can still remember the taste from
the first time I felt the moisture of her lips.
In a night where we held each other so tight,
we sizzled like the Sahara sun,
as heat kindled in our kisses,
we merged in the silent language of touch,
waiting for gravity to bring us back.
We were adrift without the need for words -
in places poetry cannot reach.
In our infatuation, following lanterns in the night sky,
I mistook our path of promises
for an intimate illusion only found in dreams
and became misplaced in her self sabotaged storm,
until I was swept away with merciless waves.
Yet, yearning rests upon the tip of my tongue,
like breathless whispers.
If only she would come to me like dawn,
so I could kiss her like ripples at 5am and
once more feel the heartbeats upon her breast.
I turn half asleep,
reaching out into the emptiness,
as the darkness paints her silhouette in each corner,
flickering sentimental slideshows in my mind,
absorbing the angst of her absence.
Now I am nothing,
and she no longer remembers my name -
so what purpose is there to remain?
Ravens gather to the rhythm of a sad piano,
as my pulse beats wistfully among weeping willows,
leaving traces on my flesh like raindrops on stone.
Reciting the last paragraph, I ponder
if this is maybe the penultimate poem,
as we cannot find new verses to ink together.
But, our memories are stitched into the same seam,
so I'll wear her handwriting until heaven.
When my fingers hurt
the pain binds and forms
at the base of my greatest fear
I never knew fear
Until it knocked on my door
So fierce that
What words were on the tip of my tongue
Are drying up into dust in my mouth
The taste that lingers a lifetime
a sickness summoned for the saints
to strafe the fear growing inside the soul
My heartbeat escalates to full speed
But my body is numb to the floor
And my mind is in a twirling tornado
Tears of fear rush down into streams
When my fingers hurt and I can not write
this fear beckons to my mind
as I use the verbs to clear the nerves
Can you hear the drops of my tears
Drumming to the beat of my fear
On a monotone Monday,
under grey skies with perpetual rain,
I became a devotee to your magnificence.
A poetic pilgrim wandering upon a path,
which would lead me to your embrace.
Intoxicated with your romantic reflection,
my ink is seduced in your rumination.
My passion is like the raging sea,
come feel my love, come satisfy me.
Oceans apart, I swim in sensual shores,
that would bring me to your door,
but alone, I drown in shallow streams.
I've become jealous of departing birds,
craving for the clouds to carry me
from lilac dusks to scarlet dawns,
so I can ascend like sunrise,
descend upon you like sunset.
You are the essence of nature,
I, a mighty tree bowing to it's mistress,
desiring your heart and soul,
not just your earthly existence,
Your love strengthens my roots,
as they spread rapidly to reach you.
My hands have become lonely,
without your fingers interlocked in-between.
Your aroma intoxicates my senses,
your persona like perfumed petals,
weaves poetry inside my mind,
which flows upon a seedless garden,
patiently waiting for soothing blossoms.
There is no remedy for my syndrome,
as each day without you,
I relapse,
without your rehabilitative scarlet lips.
Kiss me like poetry,
before I suffocate,
drain me into a steamy silence,
where there is no need for verses,
so we can merge in carnal mists.
Lust is an infatuated captive animal,
a starved beast frustratingly caged.
Set me free...
For you hold the key.
Time cries for you, reluctantly moving,
with each beat of our hearts.
In darkness I supplicate with the stars,
with your name on the tip of my tongue.
Devotion is a unity of parts,
only we can piece it together.
With you I want Sunday mornings,
where our eyes meet in rousing raptures
with your lips as my nourishing nutrient.
Love is not just an emotion,
it's a whimsical fluctuating journey -
and you are my final resting place.
My voice was mute like featherless songbirds,
without vocal chords to sing doting tunes.
Sleeping spirit yearned for amorous words,
composing twin flames to ignite from fumes.
Glance of her eyes and embers kindled bright,
like gold moonlight kissing indigo waves.
Symphonic stars formed in a lonely night,
as we sang among galactic airwaves.
Her touch is a cliché of butterflies,
her lips kiss like ballads with boundless verse.
Without her I can feel my heart capsize,
in sickness and in health, she is my nurse.
Her name remains on the tip of my tongue,
as her love completes lyrics, once unsung.
I have a new lover
who makes me smile just like a mother.
I have a new lover
who does things the way I want.
I have a new lover
who sleeps just at the tip of my tongue
she falls off when I open my mouth
her breath is directly connected to mine
she dies the day I close my eyes and the world will remember me just because of her.
I have a new lover
who never goes out without my concent
she goes just to deliver my assets
my delivery van
without her the world calls me dumb.
I have a new lover
who knows exactly how I feel and acts the way I think
the right person for me
bone of my bone
the flesh of my flesh
How come I was too busy to know I love you?
I have a new lover
whom all my worries are laid
she toils day and night
just to make me glow, am whole.
she defend me against the world
when am wrong she goes to say am sorry
she define me when people need a clue.
I have a new lover
who is better than gold, immune against the cold
and never get old.
she goes before me to places unknown
through her my name is known
how come I was too dumb to know, you are all I own
I wish I fell in love with her long ago.
I have a new lover
her name is WORDS
how come I had her and still searched for love?
no wonder I was so alone.
I was a fool
now that I found you
I will caress you with kindness
feed you with truth
show you out with love
till the whole world gets to know how powerful you are
and say you aloud in oneness.
I WILL TREAT YOU WITH CARE.
I will possess you will harmony
till you drive away their sadness
I will fertilize your womb with salvation
till you birth in men grace
I will wash their eyes to know YOU ARE THE TOOL WITH WHICH WE CHANGE THE WORLD.
My lover, My words you will bind the world with peace.
Nyx opened black arms
threading her twilight fingers
and cradled my awe
to turn my hair, white
she filled my eyes with stars
firing a comet to
the core of my heart
my second breathe
carved dragons of fire,
as Aeolus filled each lung,
Terpsikhore sang music
into the life and death
of this epic
~~~~~
I taste a southerly breeze
catching it on the tip of my tongue
rolling it into my lungs
I sing appegio
to throw a shadow of night
the circle of her arms
has tightened,
and the nebula
in my eyes,
threaten to shoot
from their sockets
I have finally
felt the meteor
lodged in my heart,
move in its longing
for one last blaze
of release,
only the breath of God,
holds for revelation
~~~~~
TERPSIKHORE (or Terpsichore) was one of the nine Mousai,
the goddesses of music, song and dance. In late classical times
--when the Muses were assigned specific literary and artistic
spheres--Terpsikhore was named Muse of choral song and
dancing, and represented with a plectrum and lyre.
AIOLOS (or Aeolus) was the king of the winds who kept the
stormy Anemoi Thuellai and Aellai locked away inside the hollow
heart of the floating island of Aiolia. At the command of the gods
he released these to wreck devastating storms. Since the Winds
were often conceived of as horse-shaped spirits, Aiolos was titled
Hippotades, "the reiner of horses," from the Greek hippos ("horse")
and tadên ("reined in tightly").
A black phone
I dislike our phone a sleek monster in a corner
I never answer it when it rings unless my wife is out
My mobile phone is in the pocket in my jacket in the hall
Where I can`t hear it when it rings, it is usually someone
Trying to sell me something, but I never go out driving
Without my mobile it comes in handy if the car breaks
Down and I have to call the garage with a tow- truck
Years ago I used to do haiku; it did my head in
The bloody phone always rang when I had the right
Word on the tip of my tongue often I took the phone
Off its hook but I could hear it humming which was
Worse when I was still young enough to think
A phone could bring good news something like
“We have decided to publish your book” it never
Happened instead, it rang to give me heart-wrenching
News, an early morning call: your mother has died.
When my fingers hurt
the pain binds and forms
at the base of my greatest fear
I never knew fear
Until it knocked on my door
So fierce that
What words were on the tip of my tongue
Are drying up into dust in my mouth
The taste that lingers a lifetime
a sickness summoned for the saints
to strafe the fear growing inside the soul
My heartbeat escalates to full speed
But my body is numb to the floor
And my mind is in a twirling tornado
Tears of fear rush down into streams
When my fingers hurt and I can not write
this fear beckons to my mind
as I use the verbs to clear the nerves
Can you hear the drops of my tears
Drumming to the beat of my fear
You shouldn’t ‘ve said that, bite your tongue
You said I look old, but you know I’m still young
If ever a wiz a wiz there is ??
I’ll bite my tongue and feel its fizz
You said I look fat, or something like that
and that I’m a tired, bitter ol bat
You know I’m a sweet young dainty thing
I’m the morning glow you find in Spring
You say that I’m just a crabby shrew
Bite your tongue and shame on you!
You know I display no angst or drama
I have the kindly aura of the Dhali Lama
You said I can’t write worth a dam
I never said I could but now and then
get in a slam!
You call me an egotist, a narcissistic freak
You must know my words have been tongue-n-cheek?
You shouldn’t ‘ve said that, bite your tongue
before you shoot hurtful words for fun
My tongue is bigger as you can see
I’ll pull its trigger like a gun then flee
I may be too tall and you an elf
It’s on the tip of my tongue…
All that’s said reflects yourself
In the end, the only thing that counts
If there’s any love in you, any ounce
We’ll bite our tongues and
forgive the fuss, which drains the light
from all of us
It’s written in quotes, psalms and clichés
Never your innate decency betray
Follow your own worthy words
search within and find someway