Best Upsurge Poems
The Colors Of Love
A tender smile, a fleeting glance,
two beating hearts and minds in trance.
Each feels a sense of something whole
rest warm and soothing in the soul,
to share all things of mind and heart
and of that whole become a part.
With radiance of inner glow
upsurge of passions soon bestow
strong flowing currents charged with fire.
Now fanned and fed by love’s desire,
emboldened hearts combine to share,
two beating hearts as one to care,
surrender fears, lay each soul bare
and bond as one, their love declare.
Sandra M. Haight
~9th Place~
Premiere Contest: Contest No. 235
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 11/09/2016
~9th Place~
Contest: The Colors of Love
Sponsor: Casarah Nance
Judged: 06/10/2016
A tender smile, a fleeting glance
Missed beats of hearts and minds in trance
One feels a sense of something whole
Rest warm and soothing in the soul
Outshining aura’s brilliant glow
Upsurge of passions soon bestow
Strong flowing currents charged with fire
Now fanned and fed by love’s desire
Emboldened hearts combine to share
Surrender fears…lay each soul bare
Soon bond as one, their love declare.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Premiere Contest: Contest No. 230
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: 10/30/2016
The smoky rose burns bright in the embers of my soul
From paradise to earth the angels fall softly
Wrapping their wings around me
They keep me hanging on
They keep me hanging on
I see the colors of heaven dancing like doves
And I feel the love
It's like a flower in the dark
Whispers of lonesome breathes disappear
When the angels come near me,
I keep hanging on
I keep hanging on
Angels, they keep me hanging on
Until the rose has turned to fired embers
Without a sound she rises from the ashes
Of the past, alive reseeded
Re-magnetised,
I'm hanging on, cuz they never gonna leave me
The angels, they keep me hanging on
Forever.
Her petals never shall wilt again
They will upsurge in every peak of passion
For when the body dies, the love of the thriving remains
It keeps me hanging on
It keeps me hanging on
My heart wrings from the sheer honesty
Of her echoing choruses
I feel peace from the matchless aroma
Their wings are wafting me to sleep
I wish only to dream in her grip
To catch her transparent essence
Keep me hanging on
Keep me hanging on
With a strike of love
With a wick ever sustaining
And a flame ever burning
Downward to the dust,
Upward to the heavens
I will know that I am needed
I will know that I am real
--
This was a collaboration written with Mystic Rose
Inspired by the song Magnetised, by Tom Odell, and the picture above.
Dream and Reality
In my dreams, you are a reality,
I can feel you the way I want,
In my dreams, we have stability,
As sweet memories don’t haunt.
But in reality, you are a distant dream,
Untouched for so long,
In reality, I don’t flow along your stream,
We are different tunes of the same song.
Oft, the days are spent in dreaming of you,
My conscious and unconscious rely,
Oft, the days I think I’ve found my beau,
My love is something that money can’t buy.
Seldom, in reality do we collide,
With anxious days and nights,
Seldom, in reality we would abide;
I shudder with thoughts of changing sights.
In dreams, you come to me in fragments,
Failing to capture your essence,
In dreams, I am harrowing with rents:
Since I am not a person of affluence.
Oh! When will my dream and reality merge?
Even Cupid is in debt of arrows!
When will I convey my upsurge?
As Aphrodite sends her flock of sparrows.
The day, I stop dreaming of you—
My thoughts would be dead.
The day, old is exchanged by new—
I should slumber on an empty head.
"When I stare out into the sea, watching its changing moods, I see the reflection of life there and think of life's tumult and tussle on one side and its ease and peace on the other." _ By Poet
When the world begins to close in on me,
I walk to the beach, not too far away.
The sea, ever alluring and new
Yet never changing, sprawls before me.
A sight to ease my weary heart!
The chilly breeze blowing,
The jets of water, dispersing in smoky spray,
The tides rushing to cleanse the feet-
All so thrilling, offering a calm serenity to me.
Sometimes the billows break and roar,
Creating a wild mayhem
Sometimes, the sea lies quiet with no upsurge,
Producing a steady repeating and fading rhythm
When I hear the tinkling sound,
The gentle waves and wavelets produce,
I am reminded of a maiden’s anklets chiming,
As she inches ahead with steps demure
And heart pounding, to her bridal chamber
On her first nuptial night with dreams galore
At times, the tides become thuds of footsteps,
Down the long corridors of time
Tolling minutes and hours away
Thus, the waves advancing and receding,
And the sea, boisterous and brooding in turn,
Remind me of the eternal flux of life,
And the inevitable ups and downs, we all experience!
April.10.2023
~Placed First~
Writing Challenge ‘S’ Words, Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Constance La France
Unicorn...with pearl horn,
Unsurpassed flying wings
Using chaste white beauty
Unleashing dreamy spells
Upon all hearts and minds.
Unspoken thoughts of you
Upsurge sweet harmonies.
This is perhaps the most powerful day,
early spring giving way to the main course,
the trees hastily bursting their buds,
blooming in reds, oranges and yellows -
the reflection of the opposite season,
now with the addition of white,
white as the clouds above,
which can't bring themselves to look like winter clouds anymore -
they lie in the blue air
watching the nymphs and pixies flit through the flowering trees,
they ride high above lawn and pasture;
clouds are the smiling souls of sheep,
sheep from far off and long ago,
remembering when they were lambs at play,
now looking down upon the new fields,
fields that bear witness to the raging torrent of unleashed energy -
this is Mother Nature going all in,
both her feet upon the accelerator of change,
lighting the afterburners with one hand while making a fist with the other,
shaking it at Old Man Winter,
just daring him to give it one more try before October,
that next October when the grass will be tired,
when the tone of light and the shade of sound slow down,
when the clouds will remember how to look like they're in cold air.
For now, the grass shines into your mind -
that's what tells you it's that powerful day of spring,
that special green color,
deeper, fuller, richer, vibrant and electrifying,
it races to your eye and fills you.
Mother Nature twirls in the upsurge of growth -
she can hear it, and you can see it and smell it -
and if you get close enough you can touch it,
blade of grass, leaf of clover,
and you're there with all the wee beasties of the yard and garden,
feeling what spring really is -
all life turning its face to the sun and jumping up and down.
A tender smile, a fleeting glance,
Eyes that meet to touch the soul,
A beating heart, a breathless breath,
A deepened sense of something whole.
(A tender smile, a fleeting glance),
A need to please and give of self,
(Missed beats of hearts and minds in trance)
To share all things of mind and heart.
(One feels a sense of something whole),
With openness and sweet surrender
(Rest warm and soothing in the soul)…
And of the whole become a part.
(Outshining aura’s brilliant glow),
A touch of closeness and of warmth,
(Upsurge of passions soon bestow)
The radiance of inner glow.
(Strong flowing currents charged with fire)
Bathe in light of endless aura,
(Now fanned and fed by love’s desire)…
A current charged with endless flow.
(Emboldened hearts combine to share)
To feel another's joy and pain,
(Surrender fears…lay each soul bare)
Two beating hearts, as one, to care.
(Soon bond as one, their love declared)…
And of the thoughts that words can't speak,
Two open souls, in silence, share.
To speak of love through word and song
Is at its best, mere child’s play,
In contrast to the silent prose
That heart and soul, through love, convey.
© Sandra M. Haight 2015
All Rights Reserved
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~8th Place~
Contest: Intermingle
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Judged: 04/16/2015
Poems used:
#1 Poem, Posted: 12/01/2014 -- What Is Love
#2 Poem, Posted: 10/05/2014 -- Amorousness (in parenthesis and italics)
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.
THAT DAWN WILL RISE.
When man will not look down upon man,yes, that dawn will rise,
Where wisdom will get a chance to access,that dawn will rise.
Human respect will not be measured with money and fame,
Clouds of sadness will fade,pure hearts assess,that dawn will rise.
Misery will be taken care of,poor get enough bread,
Power will bend its ego to confess,that dawn will rise.
Goodwill will not be taken for granted,virtues be praised,
Innocent be given chance to express,that dawn will rise.
When the wave will not be thirsty,spontaneous in state,
And compose anthems of upsurge to bless,that dawn will rise.
Where every eye will have no fear,every move no limit,
To meet Mariya, falcon will address,that dawn will rise.
P.S....Attempted Ghazal form for the first time...quite a task...enjoyed.
Thank you, T.Hicks.
14 Syllables per line checked at www. how many syllables . com.
Contest:Give me a Ghazal.
Sponsor:Timothy Hicks.
23 March 2016
Winter Magic
There I stood, quietly and still, with a frozen stare through my patio door.
The awesome portrait of life, so dominating most of the year, has lost its lure.
This time, it’s not the forest that I behold, but it’s the sleeping trees that I see.
Much of life’s greenery will rearrange, suffer pain, and change. None would disagree.
In my back yard, there stands a fence laced and hidden in a fading sea of green.
Gone is the luster of summer and the colors of fall; but the season is subtle and serene.
Refusing to go unnoticed is a plant, clustered with tiny blossoms of purple flowers. On this January morn, bright and beaming yellow blossoms, undefeated and undisturbed, adorn a bush filled with life. They blend cheerfully with nature’s orchestra. The weather is gloomy and overcast, but no one bothered to tell my colorful backyard friends.
A tree, showing no resemblance to its surroundings, is bare, stripped, and naked.
She pleads for nothing, and does not appear to be wounded, sick, or diseased.
The once green foliage of summer that turned brown last fall was now gone.
It’s umbrella of shade baring leaves is now a haven of rest for the birds.
Come Spring, new life will upsurge , and green leaves of shade will emerge.
But for now, the full ensemble of life must await the new season.
01302011PS Contest, Winter Magic, Mystic Rose
Heat conjured the atmosphere, conception began
Upsurge in pressures stirs water, birthing Nature’s Giants
Roaring sound with mixed helicopter-lion, ranting on the ocean
Ready to visit nearby lands, better prepare, don’t run!
Immersion is so strong, horrifying wind at 120 to 200 mphour
Can’t be controlled, God keep us safe if we stick to prayers
Apart not of our life, visitors of our nation several times a year
Nearest to coastal areas are more on danger and at risk.
Embrace reality, brace their atrocity but trust our Father Almighty
Safety is also yours on evacuation, don’t postpone my Dearie!
Sept.12, 2017 6.03am
Third Place
Contest: Hurricanes
Judged:9/12/2017
Sponsor: Poet Julie Rodeheaver
Untie knots of hate with...
Unconditional love.
Upsurge of violence,
Unreal! Asian folks
Under assault these days;
Unprovoked, outrageous!
Unity, what we need!
Submitted for...
Pleiades U Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kim Merryman
Syllables checked at www.howmanysyllables.com
Date written: 04/30/2021
upsurge of surfers -
on carousel of high waves
rides their flamboyance
Date: 09/18/2017
The city doesn’t need any elevators
Or escalators or anything to push people up
There are no clouds in this brightened city
no bourgeoisie emancipation, no atypical beauty
silicon bosoms out on the overstretched skies
mechanical tirades of the undiluted selves
the cubicles at Grande elevators are full of
lowered shallow spaces of begotten lies
should the company now start manufacturing soaps?
or narcissistic pleasures of the condescending physical realm
and illegal sex tapes with real orgasms?
But would any of these have any upsurge
On the emotionless lonely workers
who have thrown people up all this while
keeping a low profile in this profane job
the crowded elevators do not inspire any orgy
or clichéd electricity failure induced seductions
there are just too many of them (not the orgies!!)
the office of Grande, meaning big and great and great as desolate
is densely illuminated with the low intensity money saver bulbs
waiting to die their organic death as they are un-switchable
the products, by the way, are now “auto maintained”
the elevator which doesn't work well
changes itself
the one which is an escapist shoots itself up,
beyond the last floor, turning into precarious ash
the loneliness in the office, which is on the ground floor
is only equal to a fugitive bird
without a pinch of shelter in this extended, tall,
gyrating and syrupy city
Granma's free stone peaches
have to be on the truck
the grocery store was just next door,
it didn't seem enough!
Because they ran the RailRoad
Rock Island ~ it sounds tough
and Granma needs her peaches
that grocer better scuff!
The Midwest's little giant
went everywhere on time,
and Granpa's heavy RR watch
it really had to chime!
They parked the train in the next block
the men stayed where they could
to eat and sleep for twenty-six
a place was understood!
It was the 30's dustbowl
and vagrancy was deep
but with the rail still rolling
some decency could keep!
People kept right on coming
the atmosphere was bleak
but for the land, some humming
within gave them their break!
Those 26 were something
held on for all their worth
to build the land from nothing
and rail by rail ~ upsurge!
The red man there ~ stout, manning
while destiny came first,
progress was still in planning,
was Iron Horse their curse?
Granma's today not fanning
their errors in reverse,
the ladies keep on canning,
their goodies are their nurse!
The PAULS were the family Railroad people of the late 1800's and through most of
the 1900's. Now the Sioux Falls, South Dakota freeways spill in every direction
in the same area, and direction of the Rock Island. And trucking has become
pursuant to the economy!