Best Wets Poems
The Maltese Moon,
she draws my eyes
to shapely orb
in starlit sky
she smiles at me
with wanton grace
and spills desire
upon my face
I'm all awash
in milky glow
sacred secrets
Mine to know...
the Maltese Breeze
he flirts with me
can't let me be
his fingers trace
my rounded face
my hair he twirls
my skirt's a whirl
he has no care
this Maltese Breeze
alone can dare
dishevel me
and set me free
The Maltese Sea
now beckons me
wets my desire
in moon glow fire
that rides the waves
as my heart craves
His liquid arms
and all his charms
This Maltese Sea
so vast so free
is calling me
is calling me....
I close my eyes
as Maltese Air
caresses my lips
in great fanfare
I breath him in
in sheer delight
invigorated
by his might
I pause a while
my life on hold..
my heart, it beats
so brave, so bold
The others, they just
walk on by
and yet I wait
alone, I sigh
Awash in light
of Maltese Moon
the Maltese Breeze
just simply croons
and Maltese Sea
he, murmurs sweet
and I am lost
In Maltese treat
The magic starts to fade away
I start to walk, I cannot stay
They've called me from my reverie
I rush to catch up with the three
but turn for one more blessed glance
at Maltese Moonbeam's fond romance
There's more to me than what they know
more passion than what I can show
The Maltese Moon, she smiles at me
For we have shared sweet ecstasy
Eileen Manassian
The heron is the color
of a November morning.
Fog wets the river rocks.
Fossils faintly echo
a grey past.
I shall take one stone
home,
to look
through its waterworn hole
and perhaps
see
the future.
11/4/2017
For contest: Two Word Challenge
Sponsored by John Lawless
This life is fine
The world is mine
Though I can’t stop
The hands of time
The birds all sing
And flowers bloom
The sun still shines
And chases gloom
And I can view
The sparkling sea
And all the stars
Just dance with me
The clouds, they hide
And I must seek
The creatures small
At me, they peek
The grass is cool
Beneath my feet
The water dew
Now wets my cheek
I have true friends
A family
And hope of an
Eternity
A place where I
Will not fear death
Where all is sweet
Upon my breath
Where tears will cease
to touch my face
And I am blessed
By Heaven’s Grace
My life is fine
The world is mine
This is my time
To truly shine
Eileen Manassian
Just a regular curbside puddle,
It really wasn't that big.
But it had the look of an ocean,
To a sweet little puppy named 'Pig.'
"Your paws might touch the water,
No chances that you will drown."
Pig looked at his master- all crazy,
And was frozen like ice to the ground.
"It's only a wee-bit of a puddle,
You'll easily make the grade."
But Pig wasn't ready to listen,
He stood there and was very afraid.
On a leash Pig's brand new owner,
Tried in vain to nicely persuade.
But Pig just wouldn't listen,
To pleas that his new person made.
Again -"it's only a little puddle,
You really won't get very wet.
You could see Pig was thinking,
"Wets wet! And I'm not ready yet."
"But the water is only a trickle,
If you try you'll see you can wade."
No matter all the sweet talking,
That pup just couldn't be swayed.
The pup felt a tug on the leash,
The water was coming too near.
So Pig started his squealing,
And squealing was all you could hear.
Discouraged -his person relented,
And lifted the scaredy-cat Pup.
He bypassed the wee little puddle,
And lost, by picking Pig up.
I wanted the end to be funny,
With a moral to find I could spin.
Yep, a guy with a pup he'd name 'Pig,'
Has a pup that is smarter than him.
I am with you always...
You think I'm far away
I'm closer than you think
I'm just a whisper away...
The breeze is my breath on your cheek
The rain is my passion that wets you
The sun is my warmth on your body
The scent of flowers, my perfume
I surround you
I touch you
I fill you
The starlight is the shine of my eyes
The moon, the fullness of my face
The sounds of nature, my voice
The stream my hands that caress
I am with you always
I'm just a thought away
A line or two of a poem
A dream for your night or day
I'm with you always...
Always
Always
Always…..
I am with you always....
My love....
Eileen Manassian
I wish I were an angel
To flood your world with my light
To hold, comfort and cheer you
All through long lonely night
I wish I were a fairy
To flit about your dear heart
To give it tiny squeezes
When about to fall apart
I wish I were a goddess
Of beauty a paragon
So you would gaze and wonder
Thoughts of any other gone
I wish I were a muse
Living there inside your mind
To offer inspiration
When right words you need to find
I wish I were a princess
Blessed with luxury so fine
I’d make you live in splendor
If you promise to be mine
I wish I were a star
Sprinkling stardust down on you
Guiding each and every step
Make your dearest wish come true
I wish I were the moon
Working on your inner tides
Drawing you ever closer
Till in me your love abides
I wish I were the sun
Burning to the very core
Searing you with my passion
Rays touching what I adore
I wish I were a flower
To bloom nurtured by your care
Wrap you in my loving scent
Make life beautiful and fair
I wish I were the wind
Caressing you every way
Enfolding you in my arms
Seductress having my way
I wish I were the rain
That wets body through and through
That sprinkles love droplets soft
But then drums itself on you
I wish I were the sea
Foaming, churning ecstasy
To draw you into my depth
Riding waves, unleashed and free
But I am just a woman
I’m as simple as can be
But if you give me your love
All these wonders you will see
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Inspired in part by Shania Twain’s song: “Jealous” I love that woman…She is awesome. Wish I could see her in Vegas…She is there performing now…Such great songs….
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=en4GjDEHasI
Tongues of solar flare writhe in combat kiss
—flame-throwers unleashed
iron words h a m m e r e d in fire
ferrous words melt-morph into heart-welts
once under skin
hear the fevered air burn with cheers;
c a c k l e s of c r a c k l e s and h -i -s -s -s
bellies of tears full of fire; fire feeds on gasoline tears
fire-eaters’ —bellies full of flames
turn inside-out; fire-breathers shape-shift
from love doves to squawk hawks
bonfire of marital bliss consumed by wildfire
desolation burns holes in lacy i n* t i* m a* c y
ashes
fall
from
s o l o
cigarettes
. . . nuclear winter in summer
t h r o a t s of songbirds c h a r r e d
. . . silence
follows blaring —w h o o s h— of serpent fire
purification in cremation of all OratiOn sound
liability and liberation
animate to dissipate in snaky smoke of HeLL-wraiths
apathy clouds form they rain on red heat
smother a smolder mother a cease fire
ember-ice; scalds freezes t–h–a–w–s
whets flesh — and wets fire extinguished flower bed
ashes laid down
—passion’s quiet confetti paves a path—
w. a. i. t. s
— s l e e p w a l k s
… d r e a m s
I’m inside the night
Twirling my thumbs
Watching moths
About my head
Beating soft wings
Against things.
I’m outside the day
Wiping sweat from
The back of my neck
Watching pterodactyls
Beating their huge
Wings like heavy plastic
Against the scorching air.
I’m inside my bed
Turning occasionally
Imagining the breath
Of a vast ocean one
Thousand yards below
Me and the damp salty
Air wets my face and ears.
I’m beneath the clay
Dreaming I’m alive.
Whose face stares back at me
from this strangely shaped mirror?
Where could I be? I do not have a mirror
that looks like this. Am I that lady in the mirror?
I touch my eyes. The woman in the mirror touches hers.
I blink my eyes. The lady in the mirror is blinking her eyes too.
It must be me, but my hair is so white! What happened to my lovely hair?
My locks of gold brown, warm as a summer day. Why is my hair so thin now?
Why am I here at this strange mirror? Where am I? This isn't my house, is it?
Our mirror looks much different. It's in the tiny bathroom of my large family.
We all live in a small grey house. Eight children. Yes, there are eight of us!
My mom is so pretty with her long red hair. How I miss her. Is she here?
I cry "Mom"; a woman in white comes to the door . She’s not my mom!
She is a nurse! Oh, no. Am I sick in a hospital with pneumonia again?
I touch my eyes. The lady in the mirror touches hers. how is this me?
The nurse, near a strange sink, wets a wash cloth. She's now softly
dabbing at my mouth. She says my daughter is coming. What does
she mean? I’m a young girl. I’m not this lady in the mirror. How
can I have a daughter? My sisters and I are still young. None
of us are married. I miss them so much. Is Mom at work?
Mom is a nurse, but not this nurse standing next to me.
Now a pretty lady stands by the door "Hi, Mom," she
says, "I'm Angela, your daughter." How can this be?
I’m not married. I shake my head no and the lady
in the mirror does too. Niether of us knows this
sweet lady whose eyes now fill with tears!
Written November 20, 2017
She is the liquid night
The fluid obsidian chalice
She engulfs me
Her breath is frangipani
It is the air I breathe
She permeates me
In her starlit vision
In her saltiness
She inspires me
She is in lahara
The gifts she bares
She subdues me
Her laughter is gold
It is the sunlit day
She uncovers me
In her swaying presence
In her sand strewn hair
She desires me
She is the fallow earth
The orgasmic humus bed
She gestates me
Her touch is dewpoint
It wets my thirst
She precipitates me
In her silken sweat
In her pounding pulse
She receives me
Contest: Limerence theme
Sometimes I look for you at night,
And every now and again I wonder what you look like
or what are you doing while I write.
Once in a while, I take long walks
And I think of you.
Sometimes I wish I knew your name
Or the city in which you live
Occasionally, while I look through the window,
I picture you in my mind.
Once in a while, when the rain wets my thoughts,
I dream of you.
I am a Red Red Rose
I am a red red rose
A beauty to behold
My texture captivates
My scent invigorates
Petals, a velvet red
Coverings for your bed
Leaves an emerald garb
That hide the hidden barb
Though thorns be on my stem
Touch me, ignoring them
Please, handle me with care
Dethorned, my beauty bare
I am a red red rose
Your passion for me grows
Rose water from me drips *
And wets your precious lips
I beautify your soul
My presence makes you whole
I am a red red rose
For Mystic Rose's Rose Contest
Reposted on December 17, 2014
Not entered before in a contest
PS...A different take on Robert Burns famous Poem, A Red Red Rose.
*By the way, rose water is used in many desserts in Lebanon. One of my favorites, Mouhalabieh, a white custard that is topped with syrup and pistachios, contains rose water. Yummy....Let your mind run riot with that one! :)
This life is fine
The world is mine
Though I can’t stop
The hands of time
The birds all sing
And flowers bloom
The sun still shines
And chases gloom
And I can view
The sparkling sea
And all the stars
Just dance with me
The clouds, they hide
And I must seek
The creatures small
At me, they peek
The grass is cool
Beneath my feet
The water dew
Now wets my cheek
I have true friends
A family
And hope of an
Eternity
A place where I
Will not fear death
Where all is sweet
Upon my breath
Where tears will cease
to touch my face
And I am blessed
By Heaven’s Grace
My life is fine
The world is mine
This is my time
To truly shine
Eileen Manassian
This was posted on 8/12/2015 and has 2275 views. I've made it into a youtube video. I hope you enjoy viewing it. You can read the original poem and know the inspiration behind it by clicking on this link: http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/life_is_fine_699242
If you want to know where I've been the last two weeks, Please check out my latest blog: http://www.poetrysoup.com/poetry/blogs/blog_detail.aspx?BlogID=30899&PoetID=32486
Black Powder
---------------------------------------
He waits offstage, his posture tense,
his gaze locked on the audience -
his first in years.
He blots the sweat that wets his face,
then walks onstage and gets in place,
amidst their cheers.
In bowtie, vest and dinner tails,
he's dressed down to his fingernails.
His face is flushed.
His eyes close tight, his breathing slows,
beyond his sight, the tension grows
The house is hushed...
If he can pull from knurled old trunks,
the Magic that their world debunks,
he can pretend
(at least until the curtain rolls)
it's still his show, and he controls
it in the end.
Illusion casts no lasting spell.
No, in conclusion, he's not well,
so... shifting gears,
he lifts his hat to loud applause,
black powder sifting out like gauze...
and disappears... *
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Rain slowly trickles
Dribbles from blue asphalt roof
Wets ink 'pon page
"Twas dry dull work written by
The old poet as tears did flow
For Jimbo