Best Wantonly Poems
O beguiling crimson Moon
Fiercely blazing for want of thee;
Descending beneath faltering clouds;
Leering wantonly;
And She:
Her coy distractions and brazen
Enchantments
Laid bare and stripped rude...
Like the naked lightening tree.
Stealing forth his confoundments
Dealt by bloody, craven fingers
Which do betray and disavow
The sacred pledges
Made unto the black veils
Of night-time down...
When, drifting carnally upwards
Against your sleeping form -
Stooping to kiss upon that fiery brow...
Thus forged an incestuous alliance
Beneath the distant stars
Of a broken plough.
Categories:
wantonly, moon,
Form:
Rhyme
Springing free from glistening
Fronds
The summers heat leaps for
Height;
Whilst drifting obscurely far
Above
A distant lark now hangs in
Flight.
Floats down his sweet trill,
Accompanied by joyous and
Uplifting revelry,
Over the black crows nasal
Calls;
Whose draped shadow,
contemplating devilry,
Flaps and furtively falls
Into ripening bean fields
Planted in neatly sowed rows:
Nourished in darkest till,
Enriched by pedantic verse of
Gaelic odes.
Do now these gentle Slopes
Pause to yield
Where secretive song,
Bursting forth, is much concealed
inside the plain of Aidhne;
For here the great rock of the
Burren,
Whereby so implored upon,
Revealed its grey stones...
To rebuild ancient and deserted
Thoor Ballylee.
Sweeping briskly past a tors
Grassy island busy in bloom,
Eagerly cramming under four
Crouched arches,
Skim the borrowed waters of
Thee immortal Cloone;
Dappling currents
Dawdling around squat stanchions -
Staunchly carrying the quiet bridge
Over the old concourse:
Momentarily loitering -
Wantonly begging to coyly swoon...
Now, joyfully sporting in gushing
Discourse,
Gleefully courting elusive and
Glimmering enchantments:
Mirrored reflections enticed to
Enter -
To be forever trapped within a
Burbling rivers sacred rhyme and
Tune.
Higher and higher the spiraling
Stairs of de Burgo
When through airy woodland
Glades
The towering shadow sought;
And higher and higher the spirit
Of an ageing poet...
His crowding thoughts
Roaming freely amidst these
Fabled legends of Gort.
Harken then to the feathered
Herald -
Tis Gods design that calls on
Ye!
For few men know of what he
Sings...
He sings of the forgotten paths
Forever lost within Innisfree.
Categories:
wantonly, memory,
Form:
Rhyme
On the shadowed banks of river they sat together
Adulating setting sun quivering in rippling currents
Where golden filaments shimmered on blue water
Forming and breaking ephemeral circular motions
Undulating amber rays on eve’s buoyant emotions.
Her dimples smiled upon her visage of royal poise
Enticing him to probe her cheerful, enamored eyes
Mesmerizing as yet un-blossomed amatory dreams
As they raved of college, friends, late nights carefree
Exploring coyly maiden impulses of mature themes
Inflaming seductively, untrodden clues of fantasies.
Alas! those memories now~ dulcet still, but empty.
Never he saw her again on her side of the prairies
Strolling nonchalantly, engrossed in birds chirping,
No one standing there now to steal his glances slyly
Hiding behind notions of secrecy, at first meekly,
Though later, quite daringly, wantonly, frequently;
Elevating him unlike anyone else, before, or since.
Her last letter to him was cryptic, yet informative:
A rustic farm house, cow moos amid clucking sounds,
Boy and a girl, flower beds, and a dog named Duffy~
A simple life on landscapes lauding ancestral heritage.
He remembers well~ saying it, genuinely meaning it,
As movingly she indulged in life that could have been,
Awkwardly dropping hints, soon she’ll be married.
Yet, here she is now intimating, she too so loved him~
Validating his belief—though offering a mere fig leaf--
A vain gesture to convince him she honored his dream
Memorializing secret pact, living life in his blueprint:
Boy and a girl, rustic farm house, a dog named Duffy.
April 12, 2022
Poem of the day on April 14, 2022
Placed 1st: This or That, Vol 11 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title chosen: Fig Leaf
Categories:
wantonly, lost love, love,
Form:
Free verse
On a stone wall, by the solitary pavement,
Annoyed and angry, with daggers drawn at everyone,
I saw my neighbor sitting dejected and depressed.
Though known him for years, of late he has changed much.
His eyes had grown so cold, and his mind, so blank.
His vision, I felt was blurred by a hazy mist.
He was seen with his gaze fixed at the horizon far,
Like a block of stone, hardly noticing anyone, he sat.
From a distance, came a barking sound,
It was from his dog that followed its master’s trail.
Seeing a rodent, behind a wild bush
The dog was barking nonstop on and on
The mangy animal was once so loved,
Now left wantonly uncared and unattended.
With incessant bark it was disturbing the calm around.
This greatly irked the man, otherwise annoyed.
Instant was his response and rash, his action.
Picking up a stone and aiming at the dog,
He hurled the stone with all his might,
And sad! It hit hard on his target.
Oppressively hurt by the whizzing stone,
The dog twitched and yelled in pain.
Licking its wound, it ran round and round,
Along the concrete path, mad and wild.
At last, slowing down and turning its direction
Towards its master, it moved fast.
Petrified, on an impulse, he jumped down,
And fearing the worst, he closed his eyes.
But wagging its tail with a pleading look
It began licking its master’s hand.
The hand so rude that clutched the stone,
And had flung at it, causing it to bleed.
It was a gesture too deep for words,
That taught the man the lesson of love:
Love others with every broken piece
Even after someone breaks one's heart.
After years, it remains the best example
Of forgiveness, I have ever seen and assimilated.
It helps me forget all bitterness towards my enemies,
Teaching me the lesson not to curse but to bless them.
I feel it was a message sent down from Heaven,
The most powerful of all sermons so far delivered.
By forgiving our enemies, one can unload the baggage,
And save our wretched lives from serious wreckage!
Categories:
wantonly, anger, emotions, forgiveness,
Form:
Free verse
I do not want to die
Like each virgin you bed
When you have ravished her
It's off with pretty head
I do not want to die
But…Oh to be with you!
The supreme ruler, KING
So handsome, yet so cruel
You wanted your revenge
On woman who betrayed
The one who broke YOUR heart
So you must have them slayed
But what am I to do
When brought before the throne?
When you have had your fill
You’ll bow to oath you’ve sworn
And here I am tonight
The Vizier's flesh and blood
My beauty may not save
So knowledge I impart
A story sweet I weave
As in peace you recline
On cushions of damask
In scented room divine
You’re lost in what I say
Your interest...at its height
And there I stop the tale
To be spared on this night
You ask to lie with me
Demurely, I refuse
I promise you delights
When I'm no longer Muse
And so you let me leave
The richness of your bed
Wanting to know the end
My tale plays in your head
Each night I leave undone
The story on my lips
And wantonly you beg
While grasping shapely hips
One thousand nights have passed
I stand before you now
With no tale left to give
Will love suffice somehow?
You come and touch my cheek
I look up in your eyes
"I've come to love you now
You are my love, my prize."
And so my life is spared
You whisper, "Sweetest Dove!"
My stories all forgot
You've fallen for my love
You tell me through the night
Your own love story fine
And now I let you taste
My flowing luscious wine
No virgin girl…now Queen
My love has set you free
And now Arabian nights
Are filled with ecstasy!
Eileen Manassian
Categories:
wantonly, history, how i feel,
Form:
Epic
Why would God give moray eels
A life wherein they live concealed
In a beautiful, bountiful, rapturous reef
Merely to cause the nearby fishes grief?
When the moon and stars shine deep at night
Giving profiles to fishes in background light,
The morays watch and wantonly wait
Until their prey cannot escape.
Are morays just spokes in God’s wild wheel?
Do moray’s consciences not guilt feel?
What is their purpose? What is their ploy?
Is it just to consume those they destroy?
Where is their justice? Where is their joy?
What gives morays the right to annoy
Nearby fishes and affect their fates
While they wantonly lay in wait?
Why would God create such evil creatures
When others’ fates fear their cruel nature?
And why keep morays in ravishing reefs?
Do these evil eels provide the reefs relief?
Is a mindless moray like an inane man
Who bends people’s mores when he can
To languish their lives and besmirch their souls
Just to achieve his iniquitous goals?
Categories:
wantonly, analogy, evil, perspective, sea,
Form:
Rhyme
Each Friday recedes in burgundy
Bathed ardently in Luna’s kiss
But, Sunday will dawn cerulean
With dulcet tones of lovers’ bliss
Bearing flavors wantonly consumed
I greet each hue voraciously
I taste the spectrum more than I see
My senses piqued peculiarly
As kaleidoscopic concertos
Obscure my sight in grand array
Each blending shade completes the phrasing;
Brilliantly, prism love songs play
*For Brian Strand's "Intervals" contest.
Note: The concept for this piece was inspired by those who experience a phenomenon called
Synesthesia.
Categories:
wantonly, imagination, love, music, nature
Form:
Crystalline
As my youth goes yonder her beauty says to me yet, bet, yea,
in my mouth the word beautiful becomes a flavor of valor,
she likes to whisper moments of sad love & tender tragedy
into the ears of quiet poets as they trace the perfection of the Present
with quills dipped in the tails of comets destin for drama,
as you walk wantonly along trails her melody invites
she'll scorn with a question of why are you here with her
then the nails she sharpens with teeth of nurture
will attach One to a cross of commitment, a relic of costly consumption,
because she must have you
as a shadow must have a soul to follow
within the humiliation of Light,
as an owl finds comfort in the concealment of night,
so subtle in admission of affection
although profuse in protection of the Ones she charms,
sensitivity she cannot escape, always hurting to be an angel,
born to be a Princess with feet in mud and eyes on the stars,
deserving dreams of diamonds cast on diadems
while living to endure harsh humanity
an adequate lover her timeframe will accept,
quotes from adolescence she repeats romanticaly,
'Love me in the heat, love me on the ice,
defend me from the cheat, define me despite the price',
alone in her desire I am the champion of her fire -
J.A.B.
Categories:
wantonly, beautiful,
Form:
Romanticism
Thank you Sweet Lord
For this wonderful day
The comfort I slept in
The bed where I lay
My faith in my waking
Was never in doubt
Your Love in abundance
I’m never without
I’ve lived on the edge
In my thoughts and my deeds
But each time I fall Lord
You fulfil my needs
I know I’m not perfect
Not even that close
But know in my heart
That I love you the most
You’ve lovingly made me
From nothing but dust
To live among nature
To bathe in your trust
I fail in my goals Lord
I’m often so wrong
But my faith in your Saviour
Is righteous and strong
I cry and I argue
As misdeeds come my way
Bewilderment, sadness
Extremes of dismay
But time heals all wounds
And you’ve never as yet
Burdened my soul
With more than regret
Money and power
The chains that men wear
Evil incarnate
The emblem they wear
The Heavens seem broken
Hell’s taking its toll
I wish I could help Lord
Mankind find his soul
The wings of the Angels
Too heavy for carriage
Set loose from loves cradle
An eniquitous marriage
Find favour in hatred
In Evil find rapture
While the souls of the living
They wantonly capture
Does the fate found in Fatima
Herald our ending
Or is it a portent
That mankind is bending
To the will of the Devil
Corruption and vice
Can you feel mans compassion
Enshrouded in Ice
Oh! What will it take
For to open our eyes
To see through the Evil
This fabric of lies
Come! Lend us your wisdom
Help us see past our fears
Your wonderous truth
Let it wipe dry our tears
The paths that I followed
Far too often misled
To stray from your side Lord
Is the fear that I dread
I yearn for my children
In a world I don’t know
And I’ll Cry and I’ll Pray
For the sweet seeds they’ll sow
Categories:
wantonly, children, christian, evil, father
Form:
Rhyme
The day that followed . . .
Blossomed blue, bright . . . beautiful
Clouds towering into the heavens
Wheeling white, wonderful . . . wordless
The clouds danced in the expanse
Rolling on a sea of silence
Sailing soft, supple . . . serene
Saw nothing
Cared nothing
Floated away
Alone . . . . . blind . . . . . marvelous
mute!
The trees . . .
The trees reveled in their own wild
E m o t I o n s
Old Man Walnut – a true heart-wood
Big boned brooded black
Dark, dangerous, defiant
Lady oak took red at the edges
A deep striking flame-red
Her heart a luscious lively living green
A gentlewoman of a long experience
Patient, Peaceful, persistent and powerful
Elms burst yellow – effulgent
Cried for attention
Demanded attention
Wind whistled wantonly through her leaves
Tall, tenacious, testy, temerarious
Some of the maples slurred
A bright primary red
Like harlots laughing, listening, languishing
Showed interest but cared for nothing
The Sweetgums stood aloof
Star-shaped leaves
Like bruises oozing deep purple
At first draft
S N
T A
O K
O E
D D
Abused . . . abandoned . . .
alone
Crape Myrtles cluster together
Gossiping busy-bodies
Bursting orange with outrageous desire
Watching, wanting, waiting, wanton
Modest were the Aspens
Slender and graceful
Giggling trees
But where they were
They were so many
They could afford to be
Modest, monomorphic, musical, memorable
The Pines and firs
Raising forth green among the colors
Unchanging
Unwilling to change
Criticizing by their contrast
every other change
The Woods
The woods
The chaotic woods
The heartless forest
And the trees . . .
. . . . .The boughs, leafs, limbs, roots
That whole glorious community
Simply went about its
Natural business
Another day in creation.
Live and Love Generously
Categories:
wantonly, bereavement, change, farewell, hope,
Form:
Free verse
When the moon is full it is my mirror
I wantonly look for your reflection
Clouded thoughts pass by, you become nearer
Stars enhancing your welcomed reception
Intent on gaining deeper perception
Envisioning you looking back at me
The moon brightens to avoid deception
Mentally traveling so cheerfully
Arriving to a place so peacefully
Serenaded by the soothing night sounds
I catch a soft kiss you throw lovingly
No sweeter kisses can ever be found
When the moon is full it is my mirror
My destiny has never been clearer
An original poem by the "poemdog" Daniel Turner
Categories:
wantonly, allusion, destiny, love, moon,
Form:
Sonnet
In the stillness of my heart
When the clamor of existence dips into the twilight of my sub-consciousness
There where eternity waltzes with my make believe
In my utopian dream
You come
The moonlit halo of your figure looms
there in the star kissed landscape of my mind
I catch my breath
The wet fog of deception and falsehood clears
You come to right the wrong
of a million hurts in the languishing heart
Your eyes, pools of mysteries unexplained
ethereal yet real...
Spellbound, I gaze
You pick me up in your arms
press me to your chest
and in this place
where beauty is the master designer of grace
I trace your face
and sigh
You carry me
I’m burdened
You carry me
I’m broken
You carry me
I'm wounded
You carry me
past the gutted castles
of burned out promises
out to the open fantasy fields
you carry me
Calling out to the sun
You make him vanquish the night
and I see
a flowing stream
with a weeping willow tree
and flowers to cheer
to a place where fantasy frolics free
you carry me
And in that place
where longings are unfettered by reality
you lay me down
Silently
you lean over me
you command the breeze
to undress me with his hands
you ask the willow tree
to shelter us in her flowing hair
and there
there you show me
What it means
To be loved wantonly
With adoration’s seal
you cover my lips
and every part of me
in this place of fantasy
you open my eyes to see
what it means
to be a woman
love filled
and
free
Eileen
In many ways....I'm still a little girl believing in fairytales and happy endings...believing in a world where people "mean what they say and say what they mean." Believing in fantasy and love... :)
Categories:
wantonly, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse
Being a God-blessed Coffee tree
I have a privilege status in my country
Aside from being functionally free
I’m sought-out as Christmas fixture for December glee.
This year, I’m a decorated Christmas tree in an Orphanage-home
And I’ve witnessed the Lord’s love exercised inside compassion’s dome
Along kindness with packed gifts upon comfort’s foam
For youth who once in the streets did wantonly roam.
Delighted am I to behold blessings shared and given
Making abandoned kids receive provisions in their new-found haven
Merrily unwrapping presents tied with care, constantly proven
From donors contributing cheerfully, verily joy-driven.
In my commitment this holiday to signify the Saviour’s birth-celebration
I stand with the conviction to serve my purpose, full of jubilation
Praising God that in my beauteous fortification
Special children courageously smile midst their difficult situation.
“Oh, Christmas Tree…” I hear such song addressed to me with prayer-ray
An ode acknowledging my usefulness in blissful triumphant way
Not only as a Christmas celebration-display
But most of all, to honour God* in my tasks every day.
*Judges 9:9 But the olive tree said unto them, Should I leave my fatness, wherewith by me they honour God and man, and go to be promoted over the trees?
December 12, 2018
12th place, "Screwed XIX" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Rob Carmack; judged on 1/2/2019.
Categories:
wantonly, appreciation, blessing, christmas, god,
Form:
Personification
Methinks pilots are such superior mortals
For their ability to make metals fly like fowls,
And soldiers have such an impressive mettle
That makes you salute their daring prowls.
Surgeons are such a precise and thoroughly seasoned breed
That will dumbfound with details of capillaries and veins,
And commanders-in-chief such colossal powers wantonly wield
Till they addict themselves to honor and extend their reigns.
A charismatic preacher will yodel tunes and heal the lame
And win a hefty standing among their peers in a moment;
The teacher is the final light and bearer of the last opinion
And their learned views sail without a single opponent.
But the poet is the chariot of thought that inspires them all.
He’s the silent roar of the Boeing with the pilot in,
He’s the muffled ricocheting of the soldier’s Kalashnikov;
The unspoken overtones of the preacher’s condemnation of sin,
The subtlest incision of the surgeon’s authorized blade
And the president’s solemn inspection of the honor parade.
Categories:
wantonly, art,
Form:
Verse
looking deep into her face
for minutes at a time
one finger in her hair
more pleasent than the chime
I've long dreamed of her touch
dreams to caress her mind
holding her close to heart
and we'll together bind
so close she is to me
I reach and touch her lip
gently with my finger
though lusting for her hips
and either I should kiss
as either would be bliss
as my hands draw on her
and we end so breathless
I see her hand in mine
I'd know it without sight
warming and soft to feel
I'd hold it all my nights
I wished to delve her mind
I wished to know that girl
let her sorrow be gone
unto me I shall feel
never distort the air
nor show signs of concern
if I hold her to me
little to be discerned
but that's not who I am
to see through rosey shades
be draped in silken cloth
that's not how I was made
I see what could calm me
her sinuous body
lovely before all eyes
teasing me wantonly
see the unloved lover
so wretched to behold
I'll keep my eyes above
yet my heart remains cold
Categories:
wantonly, lost love, love, passion,
Form:
Quatrain