Best Undreamed Poems
In English we say, I am hurting,
but in poetry we say ~
I am windswept wave
weeping weathered roses
upon the haunting heart of drowsy dunes,
kissed by the mineralized melancholy
of wounded wadis,
for love forgot the fated flow,
nevermore feeling the forlorn skin
of b l e e d i n g ink…
I seize the scorpion crushed weight
of crestfallen crystals,
once voiced
through painless passion.
Devouring the distress
cutting through lips splitting,
I taste nothingness
amidst raining ruby-winged butterflies,
mirroring the bruise
burning in sync with extreme dolor…
O beloved, would you still recognize
the rippling riddles of soul’s river,
or has distance
dried the wild-lilies
dressed in dramatic scents
of dangerous devotion,
like the syllables I spilled
between the spaces that
held the poetry we once breathed?
Would you still hear the
undreamed chimeras ~
chapters channelled
now choking the reveries
I home in morbid muteness,
or has the nerving nadir
jinxed the sparks of Jupiter ablaze,
numbing ringed-jewels of strength
we once believed faithfully
would
never phase
nor decay…
I wonder if your skies serenade
soft blue soliloquies ~
sunrise soaked in honeysuckle hymns.
Do they drizzle
densely designed darkness
draped in dissonance,
or do you find comfort
in painting me with solemn ashes
as the black-fanged Empusa ~
one that inflicted
nothing but misery,
injected like liquid lethal lament
that suffocated
the arteries of midnight?
2:22 ~ angel omen ~
do with this what you will,
I overwrite to outrun the emotions,
refusing to be overtaken
by disillusionment.
I speak not to lure the stars across
your cerulean seclusion,
but to heal as I seal the envelope
of unanswered thoughts,
wishing the pulse of p a t i e n c e
would no longer
push and pull the string
of my weakness
like ice-hot estuaries
rushing against the ache of want...
O detached desires,
forgive my need to release.
I am not restless,
I am not reactionary,
I am merely reminiscing in resilience,
to rise again
as the seamstress
of scarless sonnets….
I wander in the nature’s green, trees in rows the birds preen
Like a gem glimmers the morning dew, with a precious diamond’s hue
And flowers bloom as I gaze anew, eggs hatch to welcome lives in queue
I can smell the wondrous earth, the distant flow of water in mirth
It’s a new dawn another day thereof, wherein I sense his breath of love.
As I prod on the old man smiles, he delivers milk by cycling miles
Passing the farmers sweet abode, the cry of new life reaches the road
A child wails by the neighbour’s door, with a sweet candy her eyes adore
Roaming the street is a hound grown, pups trailing behind unknown
A jocund street undreamed of, wherein I sense his breath of love.
My dearest rush out sighting me afar, without whom my life is a war
The tiny tots in their cradles lie, as we sing a lullaby
This is the world I am part of, wherein I sense his breath of love.
© (4 Feb '15)
* Honourable mention in the contest 'Enter a poem #1' by Poet Destroyer
With dreams the west created factory's,
with dreams they invented car's,
with dreams they build space ships,
and travelled out past mar's,
with dreams the factory's build job's,
with dreams the jobs built careers,
with dreams the people built house's,
they didn't ask for you to help,
they built there live's themselve's,
you can build your life,
you can build your dream,
you can build your banks,
you can build your factory's,
you can build your shop's,
create the dream, create the drive,
learn to think and then to fly,
Why shoud you expect a hand out,
why should you expect a hand up,
in truth we have two feet and legs,
to walk upon ourselves,
We have a mind that also dreams,
a mind to build, our thoughts and schemes,
we can save and work together,
we can grasp at straws unseen,
we can live and grow together,
building dreams and goals undreamed,
we can climb on glory's mountain,
taste wealth in future streams.
the poor becoming wealthy,
on the backs of summer love,
we can build the cars and kingdom's,
live at peace beneath the stars.
DREAMS OF THE DEATH OF LOVE
When a dream meets reality does love die?
When I dream of your caress I fly
Through the night so far above,
Pleasures undreamed of
Found in your
Love.
Nevermore
To kiss my sweet dove,
Gone the Laughter I belove.
Cold earth blankets your silent goodbye.
When a dream meets reality does love die?
Written 17/02/15
For Andrea Dietrich’s contest “An invented form”
Name for This form “hourglass”
At crushing depths
Titanic rests
Rusticles- like red ice
hang from her corpse
[the excrement of
fathoms deep bacteria]
And now technology
[ undreamed of when it was needed]
peers at her
[long submerged wreckage]
from slick sub-like vessels
taking computer generated
photo mosaics
[for investigators to pore over.]
Once, mystifying questions
are un-layered one by one
from evidence locked
within her tortured skeleton,
revealing
[ not the simple impact of an iceberg]
sealed her fate]
but rather, a 'series of happenings',
[without remedy.]
Rivets with 'too much slag'
gave way
letting in Atlantic's weight
Her belly full,
she hugged her center keel
[in futile efforts]
to keep bow and stern connected.
As she sank, into eternity,
chambered cells,
[once meant to prevent
the onslaught of the sea,]
were swiftly breached
Sea weight tore her
great- ship's-soul asunder,
and sinking to the sea's dark floor,
she took with her,
poor forsaken passengers
[crying in disbelief ]
at the cruel and lying 'myth.'
See sawing down,
the broken stern end
speared, into fathoms deep mud,
the bow rails stayed intact
[for all the ghosts
to lean on ]
And with the solving of
her final hours,
it is unthinkable,
that this rusticled specter
[once so full of mystery]
had been declared to be
'unsinkable.'
ALL YOURS (Jun 10)
Contest Judged: 6/9/2021 11:40:00 PM
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
First Place
An iridescent celestial being
Anarchic yet effervescent adolescent
Frolicking freely in the omnipresent forest,
Like a breeze through the leaves.
Barefoot & star gazing — native & trail blazing.
Like a clever, fearless fairy exploring the faraway night sky,
I am the fantastic bit of magic on an otherwise static planet.
Bewitched by wild wonderment;
Coloring my life with the chaos of pathos.
I am the captain of passion, & best little hippie
On the mountain — formed by a volcanic fountain
That caused a panic on our little oceanic planet.
Dancing in multidimensional secrecy,
Past an unattainable horizon
Is where you'll find me — on the Big Island in the sea.
It is a true treasures
With impeccable weather & such mystic characteristic,
It's almost unrealistic.
So forget your whimsey Hawaii five-O fantasy
Tear a hole right through the sky
Arise, & fly with me on a real odyssey
Across the mesmerizing island
Teeming with undreamed of creatures
& seemingly endless saffron sand beaches
few have ever been
up to the
Vermilion rainbow plateaus
& sacred volcano summits
Amidst cascading honey suckled waterfalls
& streams of splendiferous wildflower meadows.
We can indulge in thousands of hues of bloom
Or retreat, once more to the oasis at the shore,
To stand hand in hand before the prevailing trends
Of a turning world; scattering brightness in the dark
Fledge millennium into an unadulterated oblivion.
Enveloping what is suspend in time
with a colour compass configurations
The universe, nearly legible expresses herself
Writing constellational scribe
elucidating galaxy.
A hot steamy, winter day.
Made two hateful lovers stray.
For together they were apart.
But, apart they lived with dead hearts.
They were visible by the fade.
With a final blow, they forever killed.
The contained blood, spilled.
They hated to love.
They admitted this was undreamed of.
Together they emptied a cup by getting it filled.
Because they were only attracted by pushing away.
Those two hateful lovers did stray.
By looking the other away they faced each other.
They choose to love than hate the rather.
So they both lived to kill today.
Walking home from a party one cold night,
a man approached and not word did he say:
though, he seemed harmless I did have some fright,
silently, he gave me a rose bouquet;
I was enthralled and never felt the bite !
Oh, I seemed to be in a dreamy trance,
and we were in an old graveyard eerie:
I was aware of him and took a glance,
wanting to kiss him but I was weary;
it all seemed like an arranged happenstance !
He opened the door to an ancient crypt,
down, down, deep we entered a vintage room:
then, suddenly from his strong hold I slipped,
a tomb- but I felt no doom and no gloom;
in the silence I could that water dripped !
That night he became my eternal love,
he was a vampire and still I kissed him:
I died- but did not reach heaven above,
my life with him happy and never grim;
we have an ever undreamed of truelove !
Tears surge as I revisit the pages
My mind clears, I recollect the stages
As we held hands and walked a promise path
of the undreamed hope since we said “I do”
Shook the dust of discarded past and grew
Adieu , were not intended for our breath
I lie in comfort upon your lap, scathe,
breathing deep, your saintly healing come through
Ought, slumber peaceful?
My soul burst with your absence
full with equanimity
My unmoving wing
extends forth to bring you home.
You shall live till time is due
9/29/2016
Three Style II - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Laura Loo
See the black cat run, jump, slink away, a shadow within shadows and a life force of mystery. A predator in composite, a compact killer, a butcher for life, the apex of its design, all built of little fur and bones, razors, a hunter in miniature.
A professional from birth. Cunning, slick, and sly. In the calculus of black cats that plot and destroy. Do they bring presents of dead mice, bird heads, and stranger things. Yes, they do! To there humans as tokens of respect and devotion…
But, all that fury and murder in a small cute four-legged form a furry little shadow within shadows, with big soulful eyes, they lay waste to your soul's ramparts and snuggle into a little furry ball of furies, as abyssal black stares back into your soul with twin pumpkin fire lights eyes of purrfect piercing design.
They express love without words. They slowly blink emerald eyes, a symbolism of that devotion, as a deep purr of a suttle silent little engine revs as you stroke the ferry beast as it is stretches and yaws, mouth of bright teeth, curls around feet down and hugs your hand as the little endless engine of furry fury cuddles and only just wants loves.
Such the duality of a thing and apex predator in a pint-sized puff ball. Of furry fury… A black cat is a shadow within a shadow running under your feet as you stumble to the restroom at midnight on Halloweens Eve.
They sit and watch the void above your head in the air of the unknown things best left unseen by humanity and only black cats can know. In correlation between black cats and their shadows, they know the unknown, unseen, and undreamed.
See the black cats run, jump, and slink away, a shadow within shadows and a life force of mystery. A predator in composite, a compact killer, a butcher of life, the apex of its design, all built of little bones, razors, and furry furies.
Cunning, slick, sly as it curls itself around your heart, wanting cuddles, treats with slowly blinking eyes of love, and devotion in the way only a black cat can!
There was no echo as shadows fell
nor a semblance in dawn's dappled light
no footfalls that can never mean well
not a whisper nor hint at twilight
echo's absence felt strangest at night
Meanwhile, echo, perplexed with sameness
glides onward--not a thought of the past
nor any of its inhabitants
nor daily banal repetition
It seems even words, themselves prefer
imagining in the majestic,
or in delicately woven lace
or, bursting rockets with fire red face
not the shadows found
in an echo
There is no shame in seeking greatness
instead of dusky repetition
Echo has found reprieve: a new life
all in new words unspoken, undreamed
The first word in a lovely sonnet,
or, the last word in a mystery
But, never again an echo heard
of footfalls in looming. dark shadows
nor in echoes of long-ago days
Echo has finally found his voice
and will not return...
Don't wait for an echo.
L O V E
—————
Love…
Crosses walls-
Invites the vines-
Joins the harvest toil-
Stays, Faithful-
Speaks the ineffable-
Increases-
Offers its fruit-
Swells within-
Embroiders tapestries-
Will not pause-
Shall be
Caressed, with appreciation-
Bears forgiveness-
Sings-
Constantly is re-created-
By the touch of God-
Great as the division of
Dark from Light-
And, is actualized by the heart-
A seed in the soul,
An enduring source-
A force of all good-
To reap peace…
And at the last,
lasts longer
In undreamed-of ways.
———————————————
(c) sally young Eslinger 11/7/21
Thanks be to God
In your name
I find reason
Different lifes
Like different seasons
In your name
I find healing
From all pain
my emotions just start peeling
In your name
I find myself
A better me
Within itself
In your name
I find a fire
a passion so great
Its you who inspires
In your name
I find whats lost
even my past
you polished and glossed
In your name
I see you and Me
you helped me realize
What I could not see
In your name
I find love
so strong
and undreamed of
In your name
I find glory
So beautiful and passioniate
A never ending story
In your name
I pray forever
That In my name
to you'
I mean the same
I think of all those flashing, fleeting images
that many of us see, unheralded and
undesired; I think they are
those "flickerings of presence" poet
Robert Gibb must have also known...
and yet not these alone.
For I remember too, the messages
revealed to me from hands beyond
the grave. I have seen them
with my eyes, saved them for years,
and kept them in my mind and heart
until the day I'll seem to graduate
from earth's dark coil, into the
realms of light.
And there are more just past
the curtain of our pasty consciousness
that shine on us with an intensity
undreamed.
Their presence,
visible and those not yet disclosed
presage a zeal which tantalizes
to be sure, but also sets in stone
awareness and compulsion that
the fabled heaven and earth
are here and now...one doorway,
hearth and home.
~
Words of tenderness
were passion-filled
across a thousand miles between them
as the heat inflamed their senses.
Almost as a reflex they reached down
to touch themselves and knew
that distance disappeared as magic--
knew delight as liquid formed
between her thighs and from his own,
a sentinel alert.
Caught up and swept away,
all time and space was gone as well.
Their hunger stirred
and surged within them, threatening
a spasm they could not deny, until
it burst upon them as its own creation
of a universe for two, established there
within the sweetness hovering.
Eros smiled,
assumed the person of their deity
unknown before, and having thus bestowed
a sacrament undreamed,
brought home their astral flight
and just above their astral kiss,
departed in the night.
~