Best Vibrate Poems
It's 3 am,
her pillow soaked in regret.
Loss has left her spirit lonesome,
darkness a definition of insanity.
In the silence of the night,
vexatious voices vibrate inside
her somber state of mind.
Restless, she sits at her proverbial piano,
as a plethora of pain bleeds through
her fingers onto ebony and ivory keys.
Rain drops drip from her eyes,
unable to contain the sorrows in her heart.
In perfect harmony with her faithful piano,
her heartache performs the perfect poetic personification,
echoing a serenade of melancholic melodies.
Her whole body is numb, but the
music mesmerises her mind, as memories
of her prophetic protagonist persist.
Her souls sighs, as she sings;
"If only you could see the pain,
maybe then you would explain,
what do you think you will gain,
from my mind going insane?
It seems like you don't care,
tell me how is that fair?
You'll say it's you and not me,
because you're too blind to see,
only your love can set me free,
but you say it's not meant to be.
It seems like you don't care,
tell me how is that fair?
Oh my love, is this goodbye?
Your silence makes my heart cry.
Within the deepness of each sigh,
I will always question why."
27 March 2018
Simple Musing
Silent One
(PoetrySoup Format)
Worthy
beyond words
Warm, Wavy and Wild
Southern, Symmetrical and Shapely
~ Oh, those satisfying sensations ~
you give me
A
Bountiful Ballad
Blissful, yet Simple
Sophisticated-- (dedicated to you)
~ Oh, those satisfying sensations ~
you give me
Sipping
on Syllables,
Sultry-- (delicious too)
very Suggestive and Stimulating
~ Oh, those satisfying sensations ~
you give me
You:
(repeatedly indulge)
- in Nectarous Nouns,
Invigorating my Vocal Vocabulary
~ Oh, those satisfying sensations ~
you give me
-----------------------------------
(Swept away in Sentences)
* Because Verbs Vibrate *
When tuscan tunes of twilight,
cascade as clementine confetti,
She searches for secret silhouettes,
swirling to the symphony
of sunflower serenades.
In the midst of faded fields,
marigold memories crawl back,
refraining yesterday’s
tangerine dreams.
Swans glide in
sullen grace,
illustrating a saffron
backdrop from
sweet sighs of
fauna’s concerto.
Harmony of melodies
is the idyllic essence
of dulcet beginnings.
A plethora of
prewritten words
soar as passionate notes,
harvested through
hypnotic crescendos,
emanating amber toned scales,
whilst she sways below
apricot streaked skylines,
adorned in champagne
hued consonants,
synchronizing dandelion
desires,
fluttering beyond
darkness that floats,
as lyrical lines vibrate,
and ascend to
euphonious heights,
where bronze keys of
her mellifluous heart,
evolve from a tapestry
of twinkling tenors.
Her muse mimics
scentless petals.
There’s no wrong interval,
when performing in a world,
where rays of
honeyed glow drift,
veiling the rhythm,
between bleeding
dusk and dawn.
Changing chords remain
oblivious,
to the pulsating pain,
as her perfectly
manicured fingers lift.
The hunter’s moon
too refuses to see,
how her heart no
longer is made of flowers,
but nostalgic ferns
and leafless forests,
that twist and turn—
wilting away to
songs of sorrow.
But there’s a maestro
with a pristine prologue.
He understands her mind
blisters when colors tumble.
How her fragility has
been sleeping on
weathered pansies.
He guides her to
softly press the
porcelain frame of
piano keys,
playing the prelude
to a classical sonata,
lost in the maple waves
of wind-blown whispers.
Her oak leaf twirls and
sows duets
of sanguine tomorrows,
pitching lines within
veins rhymed in vain.
Birds of paradise croon
to orchestrated
hope and love,
while a palette of sounds
piercingly rise to unravel
a synopsis for healing.
Porcelain keys create
Passionate sonatas
Pitched in dulcet notes through
Prewritten preludes that
Piercingly vibrate when
Pianists softly press
Pedals to enhance tunes
Am I dreaming
or have I dreamt myself awake
I can’t seem to discern
between real and fake
What’s right
What’s wrong
which direction
should I take
Am I reasonably responsible
for the many mistakes I might make
Backward bouncy walking
Crazy ticketed talking
Following the run
in a pretty girls stocking
Unafraid of anything
Willing to do what’s shocking
Sarcastically mocking
Listening to head voices
My brain has lost it’s sane
my body’s rocking
My mind skipping
from Idea to Idea
You weren’t there a second ago go
but now I see you
Wait a second
I can see right through you
Black isn’t white
Yellow is now blue
Bending over
To take a boulder
out of my shoe
They were old yesterday
and now they’re new
But instead of one pair
I’m wearing out two
The room is shaking
Momma’s in the kitchen
Half baked
Pieces of everything
Tender flaked
The tiles under my feet
vibrate to the beat
Hey momma
“Trick or Treat?
Give me something good to eat”
Suddenly I’m covered by a sheet
on a cold stainless table
being processed like meat
sliding on a rail
Door closed
Fire burning
someone turning up the heat
Bell ringing, ringing, ringing
WAKE UP, Wake up Rick
If only I could
That would be a cool trick!
I feel like I’m being beat with a stick
Shake, shake, shake
“wake up Rick its Eight,
you’re going to be late.”
Get out of bed you fool.
It’s time for school.”
Eyes open, “I‘m up, I’m up!”
But wait
You can’t hear me talk
Because I’m an unwound
broken old clock
no longer able to tick or tock
I only have hands
so I can’t even walk.
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Things that make me go hmm. The second hand of clock or watch is actually the third hand. ;0)
From far I hear the strains of a mournful melody
It flows from a violin whose strings are about to break
As the violin sings, the night carries the music along.
The notes tremble, the strings vibrate as under grief
It makes such deep tremors in my heart.
Its mournful cry is repeated in sad refrains
My mind turns emotional, yes, I cry.
Once from it flowed happy notes of love
It whispered secrets of lovers, their hopes and dreams
It sang of tales of courage that build the soul,
Of standing tall and shouldering on in the midst of trials.
But now its harmony fades away like dying breath
The violin knows, its end is drawing near,
It can no more produce heart stirring music again.
The bittersweet melody that falls in my ears,
With its notes breaking again and again,
Creates ripples of pain in my heart.
As the loose strings are about to break,
It will soon lie still in a deserted space,
Cracked and splintered like a tree tossed by the wind.
Yet the broken violin will remain,
As a momentous testament of its glorious past.
Beneath the setting sun, I search gently
In shadows cast by dreams of yesterday
where whispers of the wind sound heavenly
I dance beneath the stars that softly sway
Shizumanu taiyo, where is your light
With every note I play, I sense you near
Guide me through the darkness of the night
so, I can feel your warmth, forever here
Through echoes of the past, I search for meaning
In melodies that vibrate through my heart
Strings of time, leave a child dreaming
of love and loss that never truly part
Shizumanu taiyo, where is your light
With every note I play, I sense you near
Guide me through the darkness of the night
so, I can feel your warmth, forever here
In soft silence I recall your glory
Knowing through storms your embrace keeps me warm
With each chord I strike, I relive your story
Beneath the setting sun, our bond will form
Shizumanu taiyo, where is your light
With every note I play, I sense you near
Guide me through the darkness of the night
so, I can feel your warmth, forever here
As twilight calls and stars sparkle so clear
I'll play one last time with abiding grace
I know your eternal glow will appear
and one day I'll be blessed with your face
"Play the flute of felicity! You, yourself, are the melody."
~ Rumi
Play the flute of felicity
Convey the melody of joy
Sway with the rhythm of gaiety
Allay all fears, all doubts destroy
Vibrate the air with your tempo
Create the beat for your flute song
Relate your passion with gusto
Captivate them with cadence strong
Replay this magical moment
Display your finesse that lingers
Portray your symphony intent
Slay them with fast moving fingers
Generate a heart-tugging tune
Indicate your mirth through the flute
Fascinate the crowd with your boon
Radiate ecstasy acute
Form: Double Lento
15th February 2023
For Constance La France's "Writing Challenge - F words" contest
Written: March 05, 2025
***********************
As the final petal droops
upon quivering leaves,
while the soul begins to decay
akin to the evening lights
fading into a coffin.
Tears flow quietly across vacant rooms,
sheltered in the hidden retreat,
of a hapless fool folly.
Aged and forsaken, an ancient blade lies
on a ragged oak table.
All around the termite-ridden
floorboards are strewn with
tattered sheets of stories.
Valiant voices of victory,
vibrate in vivid verses,
preserved with lively Ink.
Decades of disarray have faded away,
leaving behind a cherished tale,
its inked revelations whirl into a frenzy,
as I peer through the glass,
reminiscing about those golden days
when my youth overflowed with joy.
I couldn't assist but notice
the drooping scarlet dahlias.
A gleaming golden crown,
sparkling with lovely
crimson queens
rests upon the head of a forlorn exile—
and that is all that remains.
Under the relentless sun
that preys upon the flames,
how can I rise above
the crimson chaos
that encroaches at the edges,
surrounding the ghostly grave
of the poetic soul
I have lost in the quest for acclaim.
Within the weeping window,
a wild wonder reveals itself,
draped in a vivid shade of vermilion.
Amid the whispers of wayward spirits,
the flawless porcelain of our past
now bears unsightly marks.
Fractured dreams are embellished
with delicate threads, while shafts of
sunlight slices through shadowy skies.
The family fortress,
frozen in cold stone,
waits for its wary wanderer,
beckoning the illustrious
to traverse its dimly paths.
In the serene silence of slumber,
the sorrowful saga emerges.
The embrace of eternal sleep.
A chilling chronicle of the collapse
cascades in the corridors
akin to a haunting harmony.
The aspiration and avarice
ultimately overwhelmed us
As the clock chimed cheerfully
at midnight on that chilling night,
the cunning usurper brandished
a blade and brutally
broke their beings,
birthing ghosts of grim,
unspoken words to weep
behind weathered walls.
At this moment, I am
the emerald evening
of the early dawn,
The waxen white wick
that waits before their
weathered tombstone is
withered to a whisper.
3 fugacity
Did you see the butterfly,
Flying in your garden,
To make one’s wings vibrate
To forage again,
Accept his happiness,
Breathe in the perfumes
The magnolia flower,
The butterfly tree, says
David’s Buddleia,
Dip your icy lips
In a glass of jurançon,
The moment won’t come back,
Did you see the butterfly?
13
As tu vu le papillon,
Voler dans ton jardin,
Faire vibrer ses ailes
Pour butiner encore,
Accepte son bonheur,
Respire les parfums
La fleur de magnolia,
L’arbre à papillons, dit
Le Buddleia de David,
Trempe tes lèvres glacées
Dans un verre de jurançon,
L’instant ne reviendra pas,
As tu vu le papillon ?
I stepped in for my first colonoscopy. I was nervous everyone could see
I had a choice to be awake or put out if I was skittish...but no not me
I chose the former so I could watch my own ass on TV
They go right up your canal with a camera like an RV
Imagine my surprise when up my butt they found my phone
The tiny ones they use to make before the smart cell phone
But here's the clincher it was set on vibrate. The doc was suspicious
"My wife insisted" I told him "she bribed me with cake. It was delicious"
Then the doctor red faced handed me something, said "what's this"
I borrowed his bifocals. It was a rolled up playbill. He looked pissed.
"I can explain. It's dated Sep. 8, 2001. That's my wife's 40th birthday
We were drinking. We lost it, got a fancy room right after the play"
He handed me one more thing, a broken pencil if you will
"I'm a mathematician. I was constipated I took a special pill
Then I used math to work it out with a pencil. This one I suppose
It broke. I thought I got it all. I guess I didn't. I mean who knows?"
The good news is the test went well my colon was clear
They found nothing threatening just stuff that was *****
I must admit however ever since that very day I live in absolute fear
That doctor knows my wife's father. I tell you this, in case I disappear
10/02/2014
Despite the distance,
like moon and ocean,
I feel her close, but
touchless and tasteless.
Craving her comfort.
like a thief without
his precious treasure,
I yearn for one glimpse.
Tongue is silent, but
as spirits ignite,
'urges' call her name.
Her voice cools embers,
as souls dream to meet.
Soft tones of her heart
flutter so tranquil.
Calmness of her waves,
vibrate my heart's beam,
as my moonlight rays
fondle wet ripples,
absorbing deeper
like blended shadows,
merging ebony
and ivory strokes,
gently flowing like
lyrical lovers.
Adrift in her bliss,
hoping to merge like
tides kiss distant shores.
Her ink is my quill -
sprinkling our garden.
The Silent One
8 April 2021
Example for Anacreontic verse contest
Anacreontic verse is an Ancient Greek lyrical form, consisting of 20- to 30-
line poems with three to five syllables per line.
Developed by 6th century B.C. poet Anacreon. A form that emerged during the height of the dramatic, musical, artistic, and poetic culture.
The poems revolved around themes of love, infatuation, revelry, festivals, and observations of everyday life.
Bloated; the feeling of you getting filled with the same things of the world
Old from not finding something new to make you feel young
Daily you thrive to make your life of interest to others, but mostly yourself
Yielded by emotions, that has diminished your pride
Other hopes have come about and gone with your procrastination
Floating inside your head, so when your body is caught you have gone
Time always a cheating mistress, but you always felt you could get more out of her
Hauling your depressions, to remind you of different kinds of sadness; masochistic
Evening light is the best, cause you are not fully viewed
Letting go of your childhood, has made you forget enjoyment of silly things
Inner self is slowly crawling more into his inner self which is crawling to nothing
Violent are your fist that you feel vibrate every time in your anger
Intentionally seeking attention, bad not a good whore at it
Null is now your favorite word
Going with out a goal
It has swallowed you whole what ever it is...
Never mind returning bliss
Thinking about all the good times you could have, but you went ahead and missed
How much more self loathing are you going to give?
Even children get over scrapped knees
Having nothing but to agree to self pity
Open your mind and eat the many things that should be searched
Use your will again, instead of a pulse to keep living
Sense your self once more and maybe you love will also
Everything could be something
Ogre lurking inside, must be killed by your own sword
Forgive and the apologies will feel like candy in your mouth
Timidness is not a option
Help yourself do more than just thrive!
Eager are the types of happiness that are waiting
Doubt should not let you sit
Elope your mind and body together
Adjusted to much to be a copy; so unnoticeable
Death comes at the end, not during.
Let the music play on
My heart beats
and passion springs,
As my fingers vibrate
the subtle violin strings,
Soft notes float
in the air to enchant,
Cheeks bear a red glow
as palpitations enhance,
Anticipating a meet
with sweetheart there on,
Rhythmic waves I create,
Let the music play on !!
Written January 1st, 2014
For contest "Let the music play on" by Mystic Rose
Got N/A in contest, was sure of getting amongst top ten,
Now for contest " Screwed II " by rob carmack
Awarded 4th place
We are all strippers on a stage
choreographed of broken dreams.
Our materialistic schemes
drown values in whiskey bottles.
We are all strippers on a stage
who put down our pillow case veils,
dawned a garter belt, sold our souls
for the price of our panty hose.
We are all strippers on a stage
who can not keep with this life style:
with nights too long and days too short,
where a candle burns on both ends
a center burns out; we sell out.
We are all strippers on a stage:
vibrate and shimmer for dollars,
feed this addictive scenery.
(modified quatern)