Best Wakeful Poems
Your eagle-plumed lips breathe:
hold on to my angel-flying heart,
bite the unbroken
bone of my wing,
...and I succumb to your enticing heat,
O, to be free in your feverish flame ~
the humble fall of hope into
the sun-calmed kiss of your sea,
learning to move
and muse amidst the mystery
as I heed the slow sink
of mundane minutes
into splitting silence,
leaving no note of music,
as darkness dissolves
like the deepening daf
of an ancient ache ~
for whirling waves resemble
dervish devotees,
intoxicated by euphoric ecstasies…
But would you, the divinely placed
speaker of light and fate ~
still love my scarred swell
if, perhaps, you saw
the unavoidable ugliness
of unintentional uninterestedness ~
the failure to seek the sun that hides
when wakeful stars scintillate,
perhaps too reluctant to romanticize
anything that warms the sky
besides the saffron of golden dawn?
I am too tired to test the tides,
to see where they crash.
I am too torn to tease
and treat tribes
of tactful treachery with tolerance…
Take me as I am ~
I am the pursuer and the escaper,
the possessor and the possessed,
the wilderness and the peace,
the destruction and the dream,
constantly pushing and pulling,
learning to normalize
being the siren adrift
amidst aquatic angst ~
So wade with me, O oceanic nomad,
someday we will no longer be
just you and I,
but crooning currents
drawn only to the
magnetic magic of the mermaid moon;
we will rise as
Moirai mystics,
dancing with destiny,
engrossed in life’s pulsing peridots,
devouring Pele’s passion…
We were never meant
to conquer the chaos,
but to candidly claim the clemency
of rippling pearl blooms…
I am an island of love
that is yours truly ~
***Inspired by the artwork; The Sea Maiden, 1894
Herbert James Draper
write to me in wanderlust waves
of wakeful worship,
weave me a wish
with moon pearls and promises
as I bloom attached
to your aesthetic accent ~
amidst the soul’s pulse,
still questioning ~ quivering,
in need of a colorful
constellation of consolation
to erase the
fickleness of fading flames…
I know, love searches
for your name, breathing
into the warmth of my want,
like verses coursing through
the veins of irreversible ink,
and if, to feel you closer,
I must compose you a cosmos,
let me seize teardrop crystals
of champagne chandeliers
and light up your dusk
with deafening desire ~
recklessly awaiting the surrender
of your sky to my silhouette…
but what would soothsayers
know of the circumference
of a romance immeasurable,
unstudied and unknown
to fortune whisperers
forsaking fortitude and faith ~
yet preaching dissolution
and dissociation,
as if eagle-feathered ego feasts
on the nest that has no place
for the gossamer greed
of maggots,
manifesting mere moments
calculated through concave curves…
watch me waltz away from
the wickedness of bruised bluebirds
thirsting through cheap thrills,
seeking sunlight
beyond the barks of bravery ~
their tiny toes
perched in absolute desperation…
you are mine ~
O herald of hypnotic horizons,
wearing my poetry
perfumed with painless purity…
with you
the handles of heaven are nearer,
as the pilgrimage of you and I
is a visceral vision
of an unapologetic ambience ~
that no twisted tongue can tweak,
nor moulded monologue
can ever distort ~
the truth of tattooed fealty ~
a love letter left in the
arms of timeless flow…
Law began by living,
locomotion meeting the rails of electric rainfall,
Consequence coursing through interconnected crossbeams
making all form fruit of the first & final recipe,
one great statute spawned from the storm
billowing from Divinity's genius,
everything in the Universe existing to produce,
get busy, get bounce'n, grow wild & now,
receive with wisdom and take as thieves humbled by offering,
the original impulse from a manic God
pregnant from androgonous purpose,
a trillion movements in a single start, a fanatic for feral smarts,
stagnation anethema to the spectacular suspense of survival,
Natural Rights were for me
the moment my blood became mine, became a wet warlord
exerting presence in the wide open wrestle of Universe,
God the shadow & weight of my spark,
the window & scene of my good gumption, of my dusty dream,
self defense a mandate from the magistrate of my heritage,
freedom of expression an obligation humming from ancestors'
anniverseries applauded along the Appain Way headed
not towards Rome but forward to a higher home of honor,
a Law unto myself I am,
eating from the spines of lions,
sleeping atop pyramids built by a billion bones unbroken by battle,
afternoons auction affection for my amusement with discount
and the nights nudge nightmares asunder
with the release of red lightning
spelling the name of Creation in raw neon, breathtaking breakdown,
a script scribbled by a hand having the blueprint of dirt in it's fingernails,
I appeal to Adam, attest in favor of aggression's willpower,
to Eve I beseech, testify to the severity & sanction of self confidence,
let us smash all false law that stands as a wall to our fulfillment,
smack the eggshell of Man's authoritarian angst,
waking into a world of wakeful worries, confined by Common Law, U.C.C.,
walking through waves ment to wreck the arrogant
with a constitution inked by nerves electrified
by entertaining the urgency of a rampaging God,
thought of the great expanse thumping thoroughly through
the expeditions my expectations encounter,
black static undulating around the blue bulb of my brain,
sparks of ultimate consciousness mothering marks of miracles
in the becoming of birthright,
J.A.B.
God is the deity I have been taught from young to respect,
An all-powerful light, streaming down, which I can always detect.
He is Omnipotent, a light of miracles, our almighty everlasting King,
God is my light Supreme, and with, faith, hope and praises,
To Him I sing.
He is unconquerable, invincible, His love like a radiant light
Shining within us, like THE Christmas star so calming
And so celestially bright.
God is unconquerable, absolutely not vulnerable
His Omnipotence quells my fears, lights my way, He’s invincible.
Light and good is our Omnipresent God, He is always with me,
God for me is all knowing.
I always try to follow the path of light and pray joyfully
With all the faithful.
Have your stairway to heaven clear, and your senses wakeful,
Our Lord God our maker is omniscient, He is all seeing,
His light is far-reaching, and for me ever comforting
I turn to him with prayer in any hour of grief, His light
Brings me peace, love and light all encompassing.
Entering Contest:
The Light Poetry Contest
Sponsored By : Regina McIntosh
14th December 2020
Timely advent cool tide of October appearance,
For its golden emission and radiant sunshine
Filtering quenching thirst ripened to autumn of mine.
Sapphire sea, forget me not sky inviting assistance.
October, its blessing with a canvas of colors,
Quivering Autumn whilst tomorrows summer heart grieves.
Wakeful beneath the bare stately trees their resting leaves
Impressionistic harmony in watercolors.
10/5/2020
I sit at the table looking out the kitchen window
drinking the autumn warm golden shades
of red, brown, and orange leaves descending and walking through my yard.
My mind swims with thoughts of seventy autumns,
yearning to purge into words that storm within me.
This old encrusted frame kidnapped the child I once was,
in tears this heart thoughts flow reflecting on the past.
Unconsciously holding my breath,
my wizened hands shake slightly while I write.
Like the ocean at the mercy of the wind
sweeping away by the demands of everyday life,
I write pages and pages of weeping words.
Waves rush in and around, losing myself
in a wakeful dream as I hear the distant chants.
Love and be loved
a rhythm of my soul too still the storm within me.
With hope of once more, to be young in the embrace of my love,
for now I open the door of my heart and let him continue his journey.
10/5/2017
"Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry."
— Mary Oliver
Poetry Timely As the Cool Waves
Poetry, timely as the cool waves of ocean tide
Appearance, for its golden emission of imagery
And radiant sunshine filtering, quenching thirst
Ripened feelings of the mine and heart.
Sapphire sea of unforgotten words,
As on a canvas of colors,
A process or art of using the pen.
A picture, as require a different approach to writing.
Winters wakeful breath leaves its audience
Stately trees bare, their resting leaves scattered.
Whilst tomorrow's summer heart may grieve
Or wakeful beneath the Impressionistic harmony.
11/30/2022
Sponsored By: Sotto Poet
Poetry Contest: Poetry is a life-cherishing force Contest
We slip into the cradle of night's arms,
Beyond our weary, wakeful selves, we go.
Where hopes take flight untouched by worldly harms,
And whispered wants, like drifting petals, flow.
Beneath a veil of stars and moonlit beams,
We cross to foreign lands of our design,
A portal to a world beyond our dreams,
Where truths and aspirations intertwine.
And when we wake to walk through daylight's door,
The secrets of the stars, we're meant to keep.
Unfiltered are the thoughts our dreams explore;
For minds cannot be closed when they're asleep.
May we be armed with wisdom of the night,
And dare to seek a world beyond our sight.
The happy lark sings dulcet Resurrection!
His silver strands, like notes, weave pearly cloth,
Abide no warring, strife or misdirection;
The Little Folk come softly to the wroth,
And make them glad and wakeful in new Sun.
Elves almost show themselves, then whirl away!
They cannot stop their mischief, for the fun,
They do not flee from shadows, for ‘tis day.
O! Silver cloth, white song bright, interwoven,
Clothe now each weary soul in Glory, pray!
O! Fiery tongues, anointing us with cloven
White flames, teach us prophetic words to say…
Here, breath of babies, sprung from Springtime’s grace
Surrounds roses, in clouds… chiffon and lace…
3/19/2019
Was it at the close of wakeful light
Rough cutting field and town,
The dark blade-cleaving deep,
Eyebrow sharp and scything down,
The landscape hacked to sleep.
And if it were my dreamless sight
Of haloed streetlamp flicker,
Murdered shadows spring
To lope and slither quicker
As the chimes of midnight ring.
What if the eyes cannot adjust
And discern the rise of day,
Screening past the chilly tomb
That so engulfs and hides away
In a heart of darkest gloom.
What if I no longer trust
Evaporate of hearthside yore,
And apparitions die as must,
Would I freeze forever more
Beneath the sheet of nightfall's dust.
Morning Star
with your first breath,
wakeful
sunlit of dawn,
a mystique flaming
fire arouse;
ablaze
is casting
shadows
in the new
outlying
mercurial fame
horizon, immersed in
waves
of balmy sunshine.
5/22/2020
Poetry Contest: Pick-A-Title, Vol 18 - Yalto 2 -
4. Morning Star
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Line 1 to 15: 3,4,2,4, 5,3,2,3,2,3,3,5,6,1,5 syllables.
Venus is a very bright star; it is the only celestial body, besides the Moon, that is bright enough to cast a shadow on Earth. It had two different names in the ancient pagan world, as it was seen in the sky twice a day: when the sun came up in the morning, it was called Morning Star and when the sun set in the evening, it was called Evening Star
September, I welcome your brand new moon,
Fun autumn color changes that occur
Blessing new seeds to fulfill new fruit soon
Falling in love with autumn cool breeze that does stir
Sounds of strumming strings unfurl brittle limbs
A uninterrupted breeze, a soothing kiss amber leaves crowd
Enchanting they fall round and round with wings
Life elegance amongst scribble crayoned clouds
With first breath, the wakeful light of dawn days
Departing summer amid cooler nights
Spirit's pureness admires and sings praise
Losing oneself in serenity of the dim sky's sight
Remember September as Fall enters
Passionately and unhurried moon veils the sky
Surrendering to hints of cool winter
9/17/2021
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose
Contest Name HELLO SEPTEMBER
What is a promise
in proximity to life prime,
can a vow vanquish the purity
of love Present,
how will the Future figure fire
stronger than inspiration now,
shall the Past procreate original heat
from the ghost of a kiss,
to be alive with you here,
is to be forever with you...
Tears of onyx drip,
slip and splash
onto ivory fine hush,
a heart speaks with skips...
You sing your asking
like a song questing,
washing away the wastings
of What's and Why's
with a winter's water
of clear wise waking,
so you give Life what It needs most,
your absolute abandon
of apprehensive submission,
you are no longer timid
in the thunder of truth,
you are now the reason
for the Question's sweat,
and you are also the sanguine mercy
of the Answer as to why
we must first be lost
before we can lead,
for faith is only real
in the unknown...
There is a quest in every question
that comes from the heart,
which delivers us to an edge of soul
where love and truth speak to each other
like light dancing through the crimson diamond
of a dream breathing boldly
in our only heartbeat...
Let's run smart
into the checkered smile
of a riddle that has no answer
beyond the love of our treasured play,
we run as sparks
into the midnight of pure poetry...
Love once told the Heart,
I am your bloom into life divine,
Heart replied redly,
and I am the instrument
of your innocence become invincible...
In the penumbra of a noir love
that stalks opportunity from the ache
of an appetite that burns in the dark,
we realize that the speed of light
and the speed of darkness breathe together,
that there is a depth and breadth
to the magic of our poetry's prism
where we play with the spectrum
of heartbeat anthems that celebrate
the chase and touch of destiny...
You were found upon an alter
of soft blue ice,
smooth as breathing alabaster
of young rose hue,
your eyes open to love with no regret,
veins of still, pale violet lightning
in suspense through your undead skin,
Desire alive in you warmly,
rising into wakeful devotion...
J.A.B.
"Times Square was magnet to rejoicing
hearts, as mine was on that day the victors
came. With roses, red, as were perhaps,
my cheeks, I vowed each bloom for
every home-come valiant there I'd see."
"I see her still despite the sixty years,
a taintless angel clutching there a bunch
of roses, red, as were her lips, a pair of
magnets that had drawn me close and
closer yet, and in a flash, the kiss."
"The kiss, a flash of light, and all from
senses blotted out, save for warm, tender
lips on mine, my body backward bent
in sweet surrender held by arms, the scent
of roses crushed between our breasts."
"Our breasts thus pressed, the roses in
between; how long did we remain thus
still in time? For but a span of breath
commingled, held? A moment's measure
of twined heartbeats kept in trance?"
"In swooning trance, then rudely snapped
out from by surging mass, rejoicing river
crowd, there wrenching him away, and me,
still stunned, forgetting there to hand him
but a single, breast-pressed rose."
"A single rose, if but to press to lips, or
in between the pages of a book held dear,
a keepsake from an angel kissed but with
no name to call in sleep-failed nights,
for failing there to even give my name."
"My name, I wish I had the sense there
but to whisper to his ear then yet so close.
Perhaps, it would have been the key
to worlds away from lonely wards and
wakeful nights with just the sick with me."
"With me is but the memory of lips, their
warmth the years have deftly dimmed;
that kiss, a quick-eyed lens man stilled, now
wrought a lifelike replica of vanished time,
one budding love rose crushed by fickle fate."
In whispered silence two hearts run in league
Reluctant each to raise the wakeful mist
By mantle of night and moonlight’s sweet mystique
While forbidden fate hides a lovers’ tryst
The moon espies what hides in gentile guise
Though fate forbid a love one can’t resist
To live, to love and chance a heart’s demise
While dreams hearken to this lovers’ tryst
Bright moon, stand fast! Pray, ‘yond dawn, be stayed!
For Juliet, knowing well they’ll e’er desist
Wills not this blessèd night be here waylaid
For fear this dream remain a lovers’ tryst
Her surrendered heart belongs to Montague
The ‘morn will show if his own love be true
Christopher Thor Britt
Motif: Romantic