Best Whelms Poems
With the tremulous dark vista so far and yet so near
Abandoning my defences ~ I stand in awe ~ not in fear
Virtuoso Maestro unleash
a Composition Grandioso
To Overtures of a Symphony
herald the raging storming Tempo
Staccato Strains cascading
rapid torrents of Treble and Tremolo
Rhythmic Beats a Prelude
to an intensifying Triple Time Scherzo
Silken sail unfurled I embrace the storm of your tempestuous symphony
Crashing~ drifting~ floating~ flowing~ tasting ~awakening my melodic epiphany
Effervescent chilling thrilling air as
Allegro whelms Allegretto
Electrifying sizzling Musette ~
Trills a mesmeric Capriccio
Registers booming Bass Notes
rumbling within your thunderous Vibrato
Echoing claps of thunder Prompt
a spectacular Cadence Crescendo
I release my Spirit to gratify every phantasy in its sight
The soaring Tempest of my Soul liberates its own Philharmonic flight
Inhibitions abandoned as I succumb to your Music of the Night
Footnote:
By way of musical term allegory, I have endeavored to dramatize and romanticize the Awesomeness of an Electrical Thunderstorm and simultaneously likening it to the rush of tactual Sensual, Sexuality and Emotions experienced in romantic instances. I felt that the instrumental rendition of ‘The Phantom’ Musical, aptly accentuates the trepidation, anticipation and elating sentiments portrayed in the various elements of my poem.
Heartbeats thumping in rapid unison
Chest hard pressed in his final resting place
The scent of sterile death whelms the toxin
Igniting the ducts in a scarce headspace
A drop on his tongue with a salty trace
Glitters in the blinding fluorescent ray
Each dense breath trickles unused time away
As tears of ire inspire his golden coat
One last moment to share our yesterday
And with that fourteen years have gone afloat
5/13/2016
As the storm rolls in, the thick dark
clouds build up in the sky.
The extravagant pink, orange and yellow
colors appear over the water as the sunsets
across the ocean.
The flashing of lights coming from the
storm clouds light her dimly lit face.
Feelings of freedom and happiness over
whelms me as I lay next to her.
The feeling numbs my body from head to toe.
As we lay on the car hood and talk, her
voice carries me above the clouds.
The wind picks up, and with it carries the
scent of crashing waves.
Our conversation grows quit.
I lay next to her lessoning to her soft
steady breathing, the silence becomes
uncomfortable.
As I began to speak she reaches over and
puts her soft fingers against my trembling
lips.
She sits up and leans towards me, my heart
rate begins to race.
The wind blows her smooth, delicate hair
graciously against my face.
Rain drops cautiously begin to fall, she
moves ever so closer, with every move my
heart pounds harder and my eyes grow weary.
Then it happens, everything around me
stops; the thunder, the lighting, and the
rain, all stop as if frozen in time.
Its lasts only a few seconds, for we had
come back to reality, and with it came the
scent of crashing waves.
Behold the beauty!
a bliss! a miracle!
deep in azure cloak,stretching end to end,
at far horizon burns an amber ring,
morphing sleeping sapphire sheet in tangerine ;
harbinger of dawn!
birds rise high,dancing in skies
escorting the soothing rays,chained in feathers,
bathing every leaf and petal;
the golden disc charm the cerulean,
rising in all glory,the bright of sun,
inseparable from earth's womb
and i sit alone
its warmth kiss my soul.
down in turquoise pond,hovering with taro green
reflecting nature's passion;
rosettes burgundy that spread,
painted amidst the lilies of all shade;
and the mosaic so form,
sanctuary of mallard, heron, swan
enrapture my soul!
soon the sky turns grey,
fine fresh sprinkles play,
gaping the mighty clouds, it hail!
heaven pours sweet elixir;
so sing the cricket,creeper,hopper alike
so dance the birds spreading feathers white
and the rain ripples the pond,kissing the petal
so form music,beat to beat symphony mingle;
and i sing along
the fresh drops wake my soul
when shower is done,peep again the sun
and blossoms a garland of mystic seven
hue mingling in another
so form rainbow ,majestic
aroma lingering in air,ecstatic
and i stare alone
its charm color my soul
dawn to dusk,sets the sun
the bright dying in artistry,
portraying the skies mystery;
and when twilight whelms,
empyrean unravels;
silver crescent rises;
countless celest glitters across,
floating in heavenly sea;
and i lay amaze
the shine brightens the soul
bewitching beauty!
a bliss! a miracle!
5/12/17
22 Years And Counting ( Recovery From Life)
The separation of love from soul
a dreadful death itself.
Stripped of denial, now a raw wound,
time is the only true cure,
requiring a rebirth of the soul again into love.
Love surrounds me.
It is in a child’s smile,
an elder hand, withered, wise.
Words of support and kindnesses,
Common courtesies, welcoming hugs,
respectful endearments and
tentative encounters of barely intimate moments.
Love shows with the rising sun,
and gentle rains, and the reality
that I exist.
There are things of love
collected, a consolation of time, unfulfilled,
stimulation, compensation.
And the longing begins to pry itself
from a place so deep within
you cannot believe it will grow.
Though you have nurtured loves,
a small child, a withered hand,
the deep inhalation that whelms
the heart, eludes you.
No euphoria of endorphins
no soothing voice assurance
no melting touches of comfort
the ultimate soul mate death.
Now, poetry of love, known by others
Soothes my soul, for a moment, fills my senses
With euphoria of that first love
in written word
So I do not forget.
It comes every once so often
Seeking the searing cry of pain
With the persistence of starving men
It finds the throne to reign
Pushing and pushing until I rhyme
Against my will I would do this
Its determination to them cry
Matches only the dying men
If you should come
from the pits of only Hell
Leave me be at the stoop
And on that step you will see
A man of deadened dreams
For the love of the first woman had
on the night of Stalingrad
The hopes of this city's capture soon
Whelms them with tenacity
They would fortell only cries and doom
on the siezure of this city
Citizens scream and run for shelter
They're wings were clipped
Because of this, they knew no better
upon the night of Stalingrad
They may search
and they may find
Their families and all their pieces
I wasn't there all those years ago
But the dreams pf the involvement make it seem so
I've envisioned another just like it
Only it wasn't s foreign
Upon our soil the blood will set
Just like it did in Stalingrad
i'd loved you before
between karma and mirth
i'd weathered the wrath
of your untimely compassion
rationed out over time
crumbling through my frail fingers
as dried daisies perrished
among torn twigs
tampered with under
rough gravel concrete slabs
and rows of moss
saturated in coarse dander
i'd loved you before
while tainted bliss cried
as swollen eyelids opened
over crawling lashes
folded under soft tissue's
and pastel print linen
i'd loved you before
through a selfless lens
looking over calming
whelms bestowed silently
surrounding broad weeping
willows sparingly displaying
fields of dandelions
gesturing hush now
why had i ever loved you
Here I am curled up on the floor.
Im crying so hard I cant take it anymore.
I get up wipe the tears from my eyes.
To find myself writing my last goodbyes.
Only one person comes to thought.
The pain over whelms me cause its me she forgot.
I didn't think this is what our future had in store.
Just thinking about it makes me cry even more.
Every minute that tics slowly by.
Makes me more sure ill be left to die.
9 razor blades lay across the table.
3 bottles of pills without there label.
Im gonna use those blades and swallow some pills.
To finally end the pain and forget how it feels.
Once I start there's no turning back.
To this kind of pain this is how I react.
I hope I cross your mind every now and then.
We both know this way it shouldn't of been.
I called up death he said hes coming my way.
I hope my hero will save me today.
Well its probably to late.
Guess this is what happens when you lose your soul mate.
For the ones still here and find my letter.
If your in love I pray that your story ends a little better.
bye bye my almost lover
As I pass the Bookstore,
I can smell the parchment of opened books.
The colorful covers call me forth.
The stories continuously call my name.
The poetry asks me why I’m not there.
My poems chide me to hurry and sally forth.
Here my need to write attacks my soul.
As passion over whelms my heart,
I scurry home to do my part.
Maybe someday my dreams and talent,
Will tear down the barriers so I too, can display my art.
Written 5-03-2011
Purusha, the consciousness, and prakriti, the matter,
Like glass vessels in the basket of existence clatter;
Beyond corporal, cerebral, and emotional realms,
To Spiritual reality the consciousness whelms...!
Like a migratory bird, having its mission fulfilled,
The soul flies to its homeland exhilarated and thrilled;
Exploring silent salient lands of known and unknown,
Reaches the zone and milestone of peace and joy sown and grown...!
Like a flower and plant and tree encounters the seasons,
Of summer, monsoon, spring, winter, and autumn with reasons;
So too the spirit, mind, and soul passes all fine phases,
Like a horse single-mindedly towards its goal races...!
The lithosphere, hydrosphere, biosphere, and atmosphere,
The exosphere, geosphere, hemisphere, and hydrosphere;
Across each realm, the creature reaches with no resistance,
Attains pilgrimage of perfection and pure existence...!!!
07 May 2023
Pick-A-Title, Vol 36 - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
Rhymes Checked At: Rhyme Zone
Syllables Checked At: How Many Syllables
ON TENDING THE GREAT ANCESTRAL FIRES
Here lies the residue
Of an old fire
Long gone
Dry—Ashes
Left to the whelms
Of raindrops to dampen
Into a useless mush—
Or for the wind to blow
Aimlessly to nowhere;
Wet and immobile
Or blowing dry in the wind,
Useless are cold ashes.
Here, scattered among the warm ashes,
Lay hot remnants of a once great fire
Gone untended—abandoned as.
Often, tenders of great fires are released
From their duties by the thirst of death;
Others are just scared away.
Be whichever it may, great fires
Cocoon themselves in charcoal hued embers.
Charcoal hued embers—steamers of raindrops
And lovers of re-birthing winds of ignition.
Come chilled children;
Movements are like unsettled ashes
Of social interchange; revolution,
Like volcanic embers of transformation.
Come cocooned children;
Let us gather and stoke volcanic embers
That we may metamorphose in the presence
Of the Great Fire spirit of our ancestors—
Least we devolve into the staled mush of ashes.
As he lays there with a smile, her turns over and glares into her face...the love over
whelms him..as he thinks back to the night that passed...the passion that flowed through
their body at such a fast rate...the love he craved was giving to in him in such excessive
amounts...he struggled to keep his hands to himself...wanting more...but..she was sound
asleep...he snuck out of bed into the kitchen.."now what should i make for breakfast?", he
asked himself...as he was cooking...the aroma woke her up...she stumbled out of bed, down
the stairs, into the kitchen...still sleep and tired from last night..she plopped into her
chair...he walked up...gave her a kiss...and placed her plate in front of her.."had a good
time last night?"...all she could do was smile...as they ate silently...their eyes
connected the whole time...thoughts cluttered his mind...ready to take her back
upstairs...he looked at the stairs...looked at her...and smiled...she got up...rand to the
stairs and he followed...when they got upstairs...they both hopped in the bed...grabbed
the wireless xbox 360 controllers...and played madden all day long...a lover's dream...lolz
I cross the realms from morn till night.
I ride on dragons with wings of might.
I search for you without delay
and ask the Fates to show the way.
I fly above the cotton clouds
in sun before the night enshrouds.
I seek the paling saffron skies
to catch the trail from your disguise.
Yet on I ride across the realms
before my eyes betray my whelms.
Your love has left me unashamed
and leaves my saddened heart inflamed.
Thus soaring on wild winds above,
I seek togetherness, my love.
I search each kingdom that I find
for hope that gives me peace of mind.
Until again I can enclose
your fragile form and mine appose.
Lost without you, I feel fallow.
I adore you, my sweet shadow.
Like secret water
hidden inside the stone
love of my mother flows
unconditionally with life at stake
for her depth and unbridgeable width
I need not go to any sea
in search of my existence.
A knock at the soft corner of her heart
and she hands with care
plentitude of bliss and brimming affection.
with colours of unknown flowers
these divine elements lie
folded in my hands
with many-spendoured features of life.
As I feel them,
they speak to me gently
in the nectar-filled voices
of the deciphered scripts,
unknown alphabets.
Unfolding before me
like rare flowers
the loose hanging end of her saree
carries the essence of a thousand hopes,
and flows in me
like a subterranean river.
On her tender face
hangs a vast canvas of mercy;
over whelms me
with its magic spell of smiles,
from a stiring of promising words
like a chorale in some symphony
or a wet water course in a desert.
Yes, her cherished hands
always reveal a wandering,
an extending far and wide
a flow of confidence
that bursts with scent of progress
every moment.
Like an invincible bird
like a heap of vivid flower
Like a sea that never overflows
her magnanimity heart
seems like a boundless sky itself.
Her infinite faith on god overhead
and herself, is that experience
creating new worlds for me .
pips
pine
poses
perfect
perfectly
perfected
perfecting
perfectionism
perfectionistly so
he played his harp
only heard in the dark
shadows shattered rest
broken by silences test
waves wane on sound
vibrations are bound
touching chaotic'ing realms
brushing neurotic'ing whelms
blushing arts streaming scars
prancing like gleaming shards
glancing with seeming stars
romancing loves branded
regaurds
only heard
in
the
dark
he played his harp
?