Best Varying Poems
Buried Alive
These walls....
they laugh at me but no one else hears
They steal the very breath of me
...but no one seems to notice
They blare a suffocating silence
Leave invisible abrasions from unseen restraints
These walls I once called home
These walls have become my coffin
~FJ Thomas
Most of us run through varying emotions at times. It helps to jot them down and get them out ;) These walls can be emotional or very literal. Usually the one causes the other to collapse in along with it.
The important thing is to remember that there are others who very much understand how you feel; you are not alone. So never give up!
I dreamt of blue birds
and buzzing bumble bees.
I roamed with the bison herds,
prayed with mantis on our knees,
and butterflies in the breeze.
I greeted the cheery chickadees,
dragonflies, and snowy owls.
I marveled at graceful manatees.
raucous sounds of guinea fowls,
and warblers’ velvet vowels.
I raved at ravens
dancing on a fertile field.
Mice sought havens,
safe shelters that red ants build
in hopes from spiders to shield.
I spotted rain-drenched
autumn leaves in tapestries,
their beauty strangely entrenched.
Purple hues imbued in varying degrees,
of gladiolas and sweet peas.
So many perfect pleasures,
many another than these.
All of God’s treasures,
created with love to please,
arranged to calm my world with ease.
Inside our parents’ bedroom by the door,
our sister Jenny played the old piano.
From all of us a melody would soar
in varying degrees of voice soprano.
A high soprano Jennifer would sing
as pretty Melanie would sing along.
The house with lovely harmony would ring
when I and Dori “seconded” the song.
For church we’d often render “Silent Night.”
Our tiny congregation made such fuss
as if we were four angels in their sight,
and Mom would fairly swoon with pride for us.
Of whims that took no flight I am lamenting;
Mom’s dream, “The Miller Girls . . . now presenting!”
For Sonnet on an Intimate Relationship Poetry Contest:
My best intimate relationship began at home. My four lovely sisters, three of whom are mentioned here, will always be the greatest of my friends.
As down the path of life I go
footprints in time I make
and Mother Nature gaily plays
her game of give and take.
She gives me wisdom every year
in varying degrees
but takes away the knowledge as
to where I've left my keys.
She takes my hair in wispy strands
each night from off my head
then kindly gives some back inside
my nose and ears instead.
She's taken my well-toned physique
but left me with love handles
that smooth, taut neck now modified
looks like a melting candle.
Grim Reaper, when you come for me
I know thy scythe be sharp,
and take away my final breath
replace it with a Harp.
Until when that time comes, dear Lord
if you would be so kind
feel free to give more laughter lines-
don't take away my mind.
There’s a very nice ring
To the words, “It is spring!”
When the sun is ablaze in the sky.
Oh, the joy it can bring
Hearing birds tweet and sing
As the hikers and strollers pass by.
By the river I sit
And I have to admit
It’s much nicer than being inside.
I’ll go home in a bit
But before I must split
I’ll absorb all the view can provide.
For in front of my eyes
Folks of varying size
Share my penchant for seeking fresh air,
Though it’s not a surprise
That with masks as disguise
All have New York aloofness to spare.
I saw truant clouds wading through late evening sky.
With sunset, they got dyed in varying shades,
Forming into configurations of differing shape and size!
Giants, mountains and raw bundles of fluffy wool,
To be woven into yet a hundred patterns.
Twilight shadows slowly began to fall,
Like gauzy gossamer webs here and there
Night came stepping down from the heights.
I heard the wind singing through the leaves.
Their sweet cadence lifted my moods.
From the forest, a nightingale echoed a happy note.
Crickets in chorus chanted in sonorous tones.
As I looked on, from creamy cotton clouds,
Full moon emerged like a seductive temptress.
What a majestic sight of incomparable beauty!
Stars were seen as silver sequences stitched on,
An unfurling cerulean veil of chiffon silk.
I felt so weightless, being lifted to great heights.
As I lost myself in the irresistible charm of the night,
A thousand butterflies of joy danced within me.
NOTE: I have placed this Poem as a Video Poem also on
http://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/profile.php?id=100001219732381
[ This Poem is dedicated to Freedom of Expression
and Tibetan Dharma Guru Shri Dalai Lama to support
his struggle for the cause of Freedom of Expression ]
IMP. NOTE: Now the Poem cum Song "Take Me Away but..."can be heard on my Radio Air Play Radio Station of Radio Jango.com in 'Ravindra K kapoor Radio'
Take me away but I promise to sing a Song
Take me away from such a place,
Where feelings and emotions,
cannot be freely expressed.
Where new thoughts and ideas are crushed,
By the rod of power and corrupts.
Where mind do not get the opportunity to reveal,
its vast sea of beauty and varying colors.
Where love never flies freely in the sky,
while touching the unexplored lofty heights, and
wings of Poetry are nipped in the buds,
before they bloom and spread their smiles.
Where wind do not flow,
while touching the flowers and buds,
Where the butterflies do not have the freedom,
to show their varying moods and colors.
Where faiths have lost their grandeurs and glow, and
shrines are converted into suffocating barracks.
Where love has lost its magic of moving a heart,
to sing a song and dance on the call of its soul,
Where a vast sea of humans live,
without the freedom of expression.
Take me away from such a land and place,
Where people live in chains under iron curtains.
I promise I will come back to this land one day,
when the breeze will flow freely touching every heart,
When its people will have the freedom to fly on their wings,
I promise I will come back, to such a place one day,
When animals too would move without fear in their hearts, and
birds would be free to fly anywhere in the sky.
When the morning dew would greet the new rising Sun,
By glittering without fear, its silver and golden beams,
When flowers and buds would freely spread,
their alluring wings and fragrance in the air.
When the human mind would be free to explore and express,
its ideas and colors on the canvas of paper.
I promise I will come to such a land one day,
to Sing the song of joy and mirth.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 27th Aug. 2011
In our lives, we’ve been rendered feelings
in varying degrees of happiness -
prickles of gladness
derived from such events as those
of tasting victory,
of making someone smile, of giving aid,
of basking in the company of friends and family.
And who cannot remember the euphoric bliss
of his or her first romantic kiss?
Eventually our recollections of contentment blur.
Sensations once so strong become
as paltry as the particles of sand washed
again and again by waves of time.
However, fond remembrances
are never totally repressed.
It’s what we keep of them that keeps us strong-
. . . . that keeps us going on.
It’s our human lot to be
longing for an unfurling of fulfillment.
And for far too many, joy is elusive,
coming but in bursts before it fades. . . .
Life and lessons gleaned from it
all point to the way. but
who of us will ultimately know
the joy that sweetly stays?
For PD's 100 in a ROW contest --3
Amani the peaceful warrior
A woman who risked her life
To save mothers and daughters from the notorious war crimes
Deep in the jungles of Congo
The continuing human rights violence
The rape, the discrimination and the children armies
The non stop crisis that seemed to worsen with each dawn
Amani the peaceful warrior established safety homes for the victims
Through varying trainings the mothers and daughters were taught farming, knitting, cooking, simple medical training, arts and crafts and many more
With counseling she gave back the victims the power they had lost
Their smiles grew, their hearts shone
A rose garden was planted to show this victory
And as the smiles grew, so did it
They heard of Amani and in one of her rescue missions, she was captured
Her hands and legs were tied
He said, "these hands have to go"
To humiliate her and her course
To destroy her and her dreams
But even as she left, her legacy lived beyond the pain and the torture.
*Fictional*
One suspects a matagouri temperament
Upon first glimpsing that weathered face.
Wrinkles extending like braided rivers
Life of tussles and toils, to demonstrate.
No stranger to heat or an icy shiver
Indeed he thrives on the wide-open space.
For living on the land he has chosen
Family provision his precious mandate.
Green land he’s seen, as it alters to brown
Faced the irony in dense drifts of white snow.
Worked in hot sun, until chilled from deep sweat
His path's always straight, head never down.
Famine next fortune, then dancing with debt
Passion persists, despite varying blows.
Quitting is failure akin to inept
No envy endures of those living in town.
Spells spent alone doesn’t mean solitude
For companions thrive for those that will see.
Colourful hebes, or when a kea flies by
Land always varies, indeed a joy to be viewed.
No clock to watch while there’s light in the sky
Family time not a whim of the breeze.
Other company not sought but never denied
For life on the land is fulfilment accrued.
2nd April 2016
The sound of the oboe is an invitation for love. – My quote.
Listen, my sweet love, can you hear its sound?
It makes me wish to hug tight and kiss you.
It vibrates softly through the woods around.
It is no wonder true love always grow.
The oboe's balmy melody that haunts,
Resembling a fine choir richly endowed,
But what need have we of people around?
Reminding us of love and all our wants?
Once heard, not forgotten, though there's no crowd.
Listen to our love sighs as soft as sound.
A rune in honour of the rising moon.
From languishing lento, or diverging
Into a crescendo only to tune
Mellifluous melody, varying
Blue birds sing their lovely tune which resounds
Around the mountains as the oboe sings
Its magical melody. Our hearts feel
The pain of euphoric love, which confounds
Though we feel as titanic queens and kings,
Only by love our life is made real.
Then we rest a while under an oak tree
A light breeze brought to us our oboe's song,
Could we not be as merry as could be?
The kiss we give was long, enticing long.
We make our way to our lonely warm hut
How well, through our love we do understand.
The echo of the oboe makes its way,
A fine fire is lit and wood crackles but
The tender meat stew flavoured smell so grand,
Surely fairies wish to have their last say.
3 May 20222
Placed 1
Subject Love
'Form O- Ode- New poems' Contest
Sponsor Constance La France
HowManySyllables and Rhymezone Used
In the orchard of opalescence
magnificent myriads of mellows
fervently flow in fountains
breathing beguile blossoms
a forgotten fable ferments,
in haunting hollows I hear.
My heart is a restless garden
with varying pulses of penumbra
conflicts caressing cuddles
tenacious tattered thorns
singing to sumptuous serenades
where brisking bubbles burst
butterflies spread beautiful wings
bees buzzing like ballerinas
to ballads in pirouettes--
a symphony calms my anxieties
descending from azure skies
but my vineyard wilts in agony.
A bird drops a seed of hope
from a foreign land in my orchard
sprouting to strive in storms
emanating exotic effervescence
ballerinas pause their buzz
butterflies flee in fear
serenades slip in streams
out casting the stranger seed.
I touch the seed with curiosity
blissfully in my meadow
melancholy melts to melodies
auspicious aurora allures
tender bud in lavender hues
drenching my dulcet dreams
in showers of chrysanthemum whispers
draping my fears at dusk
embrace my weariness with love
Is this what I'd been awaiting
a stranger I've always known
Aphrodite in lilac curtains
blushes to unfurl the petals
my fingers touch her musings
her fragrance blooms my orchard
ensnaring my sapphire senses
sparkling in emerald dew drops
I plant her beside my window
she's my fable of felicity
vineyard reviving to life
as tendrils ascend to witness
her velvet lullabies
"Sleep my love
another garden awaits me"
July 30, 2020
Petal, buds, blossoms, bees, birds, butterflies! Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Silent One
~Winner: 1st Place
In a dark night sky, you take your place.
We can see your reflection in the influenced tide.
Why is it you show only one face?
Half of you we see, the other half you hide.
We can see your reflection in the influenced tide.
Moon, you have a side hidden away from view.
Half of you we see, the other half you hide.
Shrouded in darkness, it is the side we call “new”.
Moon, you have a side hidden away from view.
What is on the side we cannot see?
Shrouded in darkness, it is the side we call “new”.
To the earthbound, it is a mystery.
What is on the side we cannot see?
We gaze at varying crescents of you in many ways.
To the earthbound, it is a mystery.
Your full bright sphere we see once in thirty days.
We gaze at varying crescents of you in many ways.
Each passing hour changes your position.
Your full bright sphere we see once in thirty days.
Tales are woven from myth and superstition.
Each passing hour changes your position.
Moon, your origin is something nobody knows.
Tales are woven from myth and superstition.
You are the brightest until the sun shows.
Moon, your origin is something nobody knows.
Why is it you show only one face?
You are the brightest until the sun shows.
In a dark night sky, you take your place.
Magenta buds wait their turn on birch trees stately
while cedars' spines soar skyward so straightly
Barren branches of oaks sans customary green
yet shiver while down low tulips blossom and preen
Spring shows off her wares at varying stages
a coloring book for adults of all ages
Love can give the warmth and glow
of a golden sunny day,
the joy and laughter
of a heart at play.
With love comes
the bright red of fire,
when one is consumed
with passions desire.
Loves gentle beauty and grace
can leave on your face
a soft petal rose
when loves fire recedes to repose.
When love is errant and untrue
filled with hurt and pain
it can turn ones life
to sad and blue.
When love is threatened
from dark forces
seen or unseen
the color of love
quickly turns to green.
If love is lost
or just gone away
it can turn life dull
and the color of gray.
Love in view all around
but none for you to be found
makes the world seem
ugly and brown.
Now with an eye you do espy
a chance for love anew
on comes the white light
of hope for you.
Love once again bright and new
gives an orange and gold tint
to the wonderful future
now in view.
The embers of love's fire
dances with life once again
as it begins it's life anew.
So on goes the rainbow of love
with varying color and hue.