Best Vibrantly Poems
“It was a mistake," you said. But the cruel thing was, it felt like the mistake was mine, for trusting you.”
David Levithan
I will forever be as pure
as white virgin fibres,
in your onyx
field of ravens.
When the
star-crossed
silhouette of
bleeding ink,
ricochets like
vindictive arrows,
within your
hollow walls,
quenched with
muted echoes,
I am reminded of
your ebony eyes,
cradled under
black decomposing flesh.
I shove my
misunderstood identity
into a pocket journal,
embalmed with a
fragrance of peace lilies
and rhapsodical prose,
amidst doleful dusks
painted with
past mistakes
hidden beneath
narratives of sinful
tangerine nights.
But, remember
that your fallacious
name is an
erased footnote
in the history of
relentless runes.
My tormented tongue
has become
immune to
your false screams.
There is no need
for close-fisted
fingers to flip
through pages,
of the story
I left behind,
as visions of
venomous verses
cremate into
ashes in my mind-
as mere memories
of monologues from
ice cold monsoons,
which don’t define me.
I’ve sculpted fragile
paper boats and
watched them ferry my
demons,
floating on daisies
in a ravishing rivulet
of truth and tranquility,
whilst you chase
impassioned imprints
within chapters
written in patterns
of insincere phrases.
I am a survivor of
your storm,
drawing dreams in
drowsy darkness,
blooming my
amethyst artistry,
which vibrantly
beats to burgundy
evolutions of a
blossoming flower,
who's scent you
will never savor.
My petals
may be fragile,
but I refuse to remain
prisoned in toxic
traits of a
weathered wildflower -
I only attract
majestic butterflies.
“Of time you would make a stream upon whose
bank you would sit and watch its flowing…”
From On Time, by Kahlil Gibran
If you could imagine time as a beauteous spring
Blossoming your life, charming euphoric dreams
I am sure you will regret not having enough of it
Reveling fondly, vibrantly, on prairies, tributaries
Bouncing blue-tides gaily, buoying cerulean seas
Traversing through seasons without ever ceasing
Yet, it lengthens or shortens much to our chagrin
Depending on whether in happiness, or in grief,
Reminiscing in love, or despising pensive memories
Days of yesteryears, though long gone and spent
Seeds that were sown then, now produce harvests
Either wailing in laments, or lauding of goodness
Time yet to come may find~ a tomorrow elusive
So invest it on today, elevating it to exhilarating
When your song is playing, opt to waltz and sing
Paint time immortal on portrait of angelic deeds
Hang on the walls of future your timeless legacy
Be the finite world priceless, that ticks to infinity
Let your time accumulate to meaningful centuries,
Don’t watch it pass you by, decaying in unworthy,
Offer time an inspiration to build your own destiny
November 7, 2021
Placed 1st: “T” Contest, New or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Theme: Time
They protest to not be a drama queen
but just can't wait to jump into the scene
Pretending to be a friend
Verbal daggers they extend
Their true colors are now vibrantly seen
Winter finally exhales its last frozen breath
as I inhale victory over our duel with death.
Slowly, the snow melts from its deep drifts,
as we cross life's bridge and seek Spring's gifts.
I rise from my bed where I had lain for weeks,
tiptoe to the cradle to see the blush on her cheeks.
Pink glow of health, my child peacefully sleeps
and breathes easy where death no longer creeps.
Finally, life smiles and gives us another chance
as Spring renews the earth in her colorful dance.
Tulips, clover, wisteria in profusion everywhere.
Life is more beautiful when its been given a scare.
Through an opened window, my eyes partake
Irises budding on the banks of the thawed lake.
Water hyacinths being visited by the honey bee.
Visions of Spring I thought I'd never again see.
Baby birds in their nests, call their mothers to be fed.
My little daughter's cheeks are becoming scarlet red.
I'll nurse her hunger with motherly love, missing so long,
while kittens purr, and robins sing an enchanting song.
How glorious it feels to be well and so vibrantly alive.
My precious child and I will now blossom and thrive.
A sun drenched pasture is one of the season's charms.
Tomorrow I'll walk in clover with my babe in my arms.
A prayer to give thanks for this sunshine flowery day
and restored life that almost took hers and mine away.
My garden's finery lavishly adorns sweet Mother Earth.
It's a daffodil day! A time to enjoy Spring's new birth.
Spring, an appropriate name I've chosen for my child.
Precious infant nurtured when Winter winds turned mild.
Ruffles of pink adorn you like the petals of a cabbage rose.
I promise to keep you safe, so close your eyes and doze.
Nymph of my heart, I pray that you become a lovely flower.
Grow into a woman, sweet as jasmine on a garden bower.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Contest was finalized on 4/13/16 Written on 3/20/16
He makes me see in color
when I’m enshrouded in my grey.
His hues of happiness twirl and dance
and my life takes on a different stance.
~~~Beauty birthed in blessings believed~~~
He gifts to me...
reassurance in reality’s revelations!
His color blind eyes
make my truth blind ones see...
My words are wonderfully wise
Passionately poignant
Honestly heartwarming
Sensually scintillating
Oh la la lacious…simply delicious
vibrantly colored in vivacious!!!
These are the word colors
he mixes on my page’s palette
with his own signature artistry.
He embellishes the plain canvas of my mind
a kaleidoscope revelry….I see
This color blind poet,
this mentoring friend
is a man who carries a name
which says it all...
Lamoureux: the one who loves
He's a lover of colors he cannot see
because he’s gifted them...
He’s gifted them all
to me
Eileen Manassian Ghali
For Richard Lamoureux's Contest
Who Do You Think I am
September 26, 2015
You paint your pictures, on the canvas of my mind.
Ebbing and flowing, as your thoughts become released.
Texture and color, are displayed with every line.....
From another poem
If I could see in color.....
Richard Lamoureux
This pomegranate heart
dreams to travel upon
a periwinkle path which
leads to the province,
where her royal majestic
persona resembles
papillon emperors,
floating under
mauveine skies,
adored by radiant rays from
the plummeting plum sun.
Serene clouds drift under
her lepidolite lilac gaze,
holding morning glory
amethyst raindrops,
ready to soothe her
fervid velvet petals.
A plethora of heather shelters
a rare rose dressed in violet,
flourishing under an
enigmatic Jacaranda tree,
surrounded by lush lilies,
infatuating irises alongside
opulent orchids,
blossoms infused with the
allure of musky ambience.
Tranquil twilight paints the
horizons in lavender hues,
stars appear like raisins
under magenta moonlight.
Her desires flow like rivers
of sangria and Syrah waterfalls,
bursting vibrantly through
mulberry mountains over
blueberry hills.
I have no desire
to reside in a place where
burgundy is too red
and indigo is too blue -
only in her unique aura
of heavenly purple shades.
Gifts of stuffed toys make my special child
delight vibrantly in freedom bliss
as he cuddles them joyously
to create magical time of beautiful wonders
transforming his bed into marvelous haven.
Awesome bonding moments
grasp him around fellowship with his friends:
soft monkey, furry ape, smooth dog,
huggable bear, silky dinosaur
bringing sheer laughter of amazement-joy.
With sign language and gestures of care
he attends to them in his relaxation time
midst roll-call they understand
as he lines them up in his organized manner
expecting for their presence.
In his mirth-filled grin
he picks them up one by one
conscious of their responses
heartfully warming him therapeutically
never defying his touches and embraces.
As he prays and gives thanks to God
my special child asks blessings for his stuffed toys
midst utterances they all comprehend
expressing his affection toward them
like how his Mom loves him so dearly.
Before he drifts to sleep
he covers them with his own blanket
assuring their safety around his protection
while he allows my hands to extend toward them
since for him, "we are a family."
Yes, his stuffed toys understand his quirks
as they play with him with their flexible compliance
keeping him company of significant worth
enabling his individuality to exude compassion-manners
while enhancing his kindness-deeds.
More than soft toys, they are my special boy's treasures...
...gifts from people who love him --- whom he values likewise
as both recipients and benefactors of care, comfort, and cheer
... since they exemplify God's grace, goodness and generosity
while radiating hope, peace, and triumph for their functionality
though, of course, they can never and must not be....
... substitutes for a loving home.*
*Psalm 127:1 Except the LORD build the house, they labour in vain that build it.
September 16, 2025
1st place, "More Than A Soft Toy" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Natasha L Scragg; judged on 9/26/2025.
10th place, "2025 Poetry Marathon Mile 20" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney; judged on 10/8/2025
Whisper me a seraphic song, my love.
Let every other useless noise be still.
Let me be gratified in your sweet melody,
Let music in my heart with love fill.
Let me listen to the rustle of the soft wind,
It blows through all the weeping willows,
It scatters fragrance of the verdant woods
It is like mellow music, a lullaby of shadows.
Or just like billows that roll towards the shore,
Turning up a light foam as each kiss the dark rocks,
Can you hear the lullaby that they vibrantly compose?
Mellifluous sounds that issue from a beautiful music box.
So, whisper me a pleasing song, my dear,
A lucid theme of infinite clear harmony,
Let my soul feel ceaseless euphonic ecstasy,
Let us indulge in our lasting love eternally.
I find myself living in the here and now
but sometimes wondering why and how.
My heart seeks answers to quench my thirst
I wonder what is it that I must do first
to find faith in the unknown, should I bow?
Scripture reveals that in me His light will glow
so vibrantly that at last my soul will know
His presence is felt as a sanctuary, a haven
with spiritual answers my heart's been craving
My belief in Him will like a stream then flow.
Should my search lead me to waters of the sea?
Will I feel His Chakra swelling deep inside of me?
His presence is found everywhere, I've been told
I yearn for His grace and warmth as one of his fold
Then, in my soul I shall feel peace and tranquility.
Should I focus on praying to the One who has clout?
Could be speaking directly to him will erase my doubt
Reading the words of the Bible might help me find
answers I seek but to which I've had a closed mind
It's devotion I need to end my spiritual drought.
In His living waters I'll know the bliss of the blessed
My thirst sated after doubts have been confessed
I will be cleansed with awareness, immersed in purity
for having God's holy countenance will set me free
and at last I will have reached the end of my quest.
A bloom breaks out afresh from its swollen,
green bud and then stretches skyward into
the sun-infused sky. A feature of nature that's
timeless and perennial, it faithfully flowers and
adorns its surroundings like its predecessors.
Never alone, and joined by its floral neighbors
of its own kind in fragrant numbers, it suffuses
the atmosphere all around with a heavy, yet
sweet stench of lavender and honeysuckle. The
thick odor attracts and entices the flower-
borne bees, hornets, and yellow-jackets nearby
into a steady, rhythmic pulse of continuous,
busy labor over the perfumed blossoms and
vibrantly-tinted petals. From an adjacent pond
the over-abundant and majestic beauty of the
lily-of-the-valleys add its distinctiveness to
the already rich and vibrant, floral landscape,
now teeming with the vibrancy of spring:—
so lush with fulsomeness of life and movement!
Illusion illuminated instantly
Reality realized… rationally
Nature noticed normally
Vision vitalized vibrantly
Life lived… laudably
Torturing me with touches
I feel the sting of hardened and lasting lust
Touches not of mortal fingers,
But Halloween-haloed strings composed by musicians of mystery
Pressing upon my back--yes! A searing, yet melodi-errotic strike
All upon me, yet far from me...
Leave me not in the judgement of my own scrambling feelings
Rest not away as I hold my hands out in the dark
Deathly dances are visions heaven-bound for the duo--
Yet for the solo- a blank, useless measure...
The pulsing silence of amateur-stitched love rattles me
Making rhythms giggle in my mind
Intervals of idiocy tormenting all reason
Truly an agonizing, but for others--minor--prison
Is the smile that helped design those strings
Those strings that pluck upon my spine
Controlling me in a dark place stuck between tunes and time
Why are your hands so cold when you play those piano keys?
Why are your lungs so eroded with the pride that taints the songs you sing?
Why have the rhythms gone awry, and why does your apathetic dissonance thrive?
And tell me… through it all…
As you compose the rise and fall…
Why is all this destruction you created so vibrantly alive?
September morn flutters its bright wings
Radiant colors of love and joy it all brings
Never just a dream
Drizzles fuse with summer air in delight
Rainbow looms are strewn in vast site
They perfectly prim
September smiles brandish vibrantly on air
Virgon-Libran Stars pace dazzlingly in flair
Trees arc overhead
Gilded crackers carpet densely around
Others in streaky flames stud…abound
Let’s frolic and tread
September aroma wafts, whirls… swirls
Bracing breeze bounces, dances, twirls
A lavish confetti-bearer
Overture of year’s most awaiting parts
Enchanting hues rain from the start
Ber Months’ fun greeter
Sept. 23, 2016 (Fri) 9.59pm
©2016Leonora Galinta
I wrote this poem to greet you all lovingly a Very Happy and Blessed September!
Also, a very Happy Birthday to the September Celebrants especially to our very dear poet and friend, Andrea D. Her very special day was last Sept 5. Once again, Happy, Happy Birthday! This poem is for You and for all my/our dear Septemberian poetic friends. Wishing you the BEST in life especially Good Health, Happiness and Success. Biggest and sweetest hugs from me.
I Love and miss you all!
From once lush green, vibrantly alive
This dorsiventrally flattened leaf never dies
It's fragility, nursed to allow ~
Such patience from the artist abounds
By blade and pin such creativity thralls
Again, it's decaying membranes reach out and touch
From the tree of life, this leaf lives on
.
Written about the craftsmanship of Omid Asadi
whom creates amazing Art from leaves.
When fall had settled in
like a mellow multi-colored cat,
purring with contentment
in the beauty of its prime,
Fall crept past the summer of its youth
and sprawled before us.
It stretched out in splendid coolness.
Yes, fall was a cat of many colors -
an orange burnt almost red
among patches of sunshine yellow and spicy ginger.
Everywhere we looked
we saw those brilliant hues.
We had decided to drive up to the mountains
where October’s trees had begun
to flaunt their brilliant new colors.
We passed several orchards
on the outskirts of the town,
seeing apples and pumpkins sold at road stands
as our drive progressed to Canyon Road.
Suddenly we were struck with wonder
by a beauty even more than that of a multi-colored cat.
On both sides of us, the colors cat-sprawled
across the faces of mountains,
and when the wind blew, the trees moved
like the waves of a giant ocean.
The multi-colored cat had changed into a sea -
a sea of marvelously clad colorful trees
that rhythmically moved and glistened
as if they were indeed an ocean’s waves,
color-tossed beneath the midday sun.
We spoke few words, for our eyes
were filled with fall’s enchantment.
When we reached the man-made lake
where blue water glistened as vibrantly
as had the leaves of the mountain’s trees,
we turned around and headed back home,
savoring the ending of
our perfect autumn drive.
Sept.10, 2022
For the Fall Flavors Poetry contest of Regina McIntosh