Best Whirl Around Poems
we don’t appreciate
the sun until it r a i n s,
warmth of gentle rays
that subtly stroke
distressed skin
when time was f r o z e n
smiles were s t o l e n
and hope yet again
remains b r o k e n…
whilst I’m lying here
in the in-betweens of
procrastinated promises
along bitter breezes~
you use your poetic
words as a weapon,
oppressing the guardians
around my dreams,
oblivious to the
translucent truth
laced in trimmed nylon,
that you and me
we’re made of
the same s t o n e
we wear the same
crown of t h o r n s
sitting on the throne
of darkness, full of
stainless steel cages
and chain link fences,
turning
these emotions
into
cancerous tumors,
knocking on your
conscience, patronizing
the pigments of
my petal-like palette
by questioning
your own roots..
but now I’ve got feathers
in my bleeding heart,
and if these crimson wings
could fly, you’ll find me
soaring above seas
of solitude, that pushed
me down to an abyss
of n o t h i n g n e s s.
watch me unlock
the keys of jasmine doors
to seek serendipity surrender,
as my muse serenades
rainbow reveries,
amidst faded stars
and moonless nights
which
gaslit my
apologies and roses.
I have tried
to twirl through
ravenous ravens in a
carnival of carnivores
you’ve fed my mind
labelling me
as the serpent q u e e n
with twisted words,
whilst you whirl around
with
ghosts of p o e t r y
in your
cathartic h a z e..
your love
is a hand grenade
that shattered my aching
bones into scattered
s m o k e and f o g
they say
the biggest hearts
are the
biggest targets,
and the rifles you hold,
seems to have
my name engraved in
blood-soaked tears…
so, now that you’ve
pulled the trigger,
how would you stop
the ammo?
Will you remain forever
in your
unbending silence
a false humility
disguised
as k i n d n e s s
that flickers glitter,
to ascend brighter
as the bullet settles
upon my spine, halting
me from movement?
Or will you watch me
c r a w l back to the
spheres where I belong?
for I refuse to rot
as a victim of an
unwritten circumstance.
The icy wind blows through
blushing our cheeks,
Eyes stinging and watering,
and mouths tinted purple.
Snow flurries whirl around us
nipping at our ears;
making our breath white and heavy.
So, we pretend to smoke.
But wide grins give away our game
With hearts purging laughter,
We look long at each other,
Eyes glinting sincerely happy sighs.
City sidewalks stretching out
Before concrete winterlands,
And you and me walking,
Holding and swinging our hands.
candles stir mystique of night
to whirl around lit gazes
dripping on fate's trance awestruck
…by rosy moments
in velvet pier's harbourview--
stardust traces quivered flesh
drenching wax of smooth passion
… as two blazed lips melt
Valentine--Form D Contest
Sponsor: Broken Wings 1/17/2017
Checked via www.howmanysyllables.com
Light lemon colored skies to see
On the horizon, so pretty
Across the white, snow covered land
Peace amidst more than I can stand
Problems whirl around like a storm
But here, it is the quiet norm
A peaceful piece of creation
A still picture of salvation
The air is cold, but fresh to breathe
Cleansing all things that make me seethe
Heidi Sands
12/19/20
Balls tumble; the stars shine bright.
Sparkling gems in velvet night.
Little hands that tossed at play,
Fold in dreams at the close of day.
Hopscotch chalk marks lines on ground.
Jumpers hop, spin, and whirl around.
Skipping feet move square by square.
Float on clouds that linger there.
Counting sheep goes one, then two.
Fluffy lambs drift softly through.
Each one bounds over silver streams,
Guiding hearts through woolen seams.
Songs whisper a sing-a-long tune.
Lilting rhymes to the chanting moon.
Voices join in, so sweet, so low,
catching webs that dream-weavers sow.
Close your eyes, let the starlight stay.
Rest until dawn brings the break of day.
All your games will wait for you.
When you wake up in morning's dew.
Hugging my oak; vibrations of Spring,
tingling of potential and potent buds.
Robins and woodpeckers inspecting;
a hawk dives, evens out, sees life
on the ground; seeds twinging with
excitement, ready to break ground.
We are in the waiting room. Buzz of
monotone before the sun goes full throttle,
and dandelions and daffodils delight us.
Rose petal brushing on rouge and lipstick.
Ooh…ooh…ready to breathe in the snow
and cherry blossoms of tangible trees!
So, so ready to walk in the zeal of zephyr,
to whirl around the buzz of bees and chirps,
those lovely birds rejoicing with one another.
Put on your Easter bonnet! Why wait! Praise!
The writer I am in my dreams
is more sophisticated than I am
and sees the world as an untold story
I mainly see the footsteps behind me
Where I stepped softly so as not to call attention to myself
this writer conjures volumes about the man on the bus
who has a scar on his face five inches long
she elaborates on his life with gifted prose
he is a pilot shot down in Vietnam
guerillas gave him a scar and set him free
he used to be a lion tamer
that one is self-explanatory
I simply cannot stop staring at his scar and wonder
does it bother him to have such a mark?
The writer I am in my dreams
has perfect time management
goes to work, attends class
has a beau
moves from day to day
finds time for friends and play
hobbies and exercise
dance class and likewise
the writer I am in my dreams
her words are clear and precise
they don't feel like empty thoughts on a page
they don't sound immature
her words and statements work
they don't get in her way and make her mind spin
and conjure up thoughts of self-worth
they whirl around the room and
whisper about the unimagined
they dialogue with rhyme and wit
and they always converse graciously
the writer I am in my dreams
I wake up and pray to be
and sometimes my prayers are answered
She had on this lovely sundress
Innocent curious look in blue
A full figured fiery fifteen with
Passion that will warm any coldest heart.
Heart full of love of a gentle dove
Behold her face all-rich.
Her seductive look makes one to stoop
Deep grey eyes can lead anyone astray
Round ear-ring makes whirl around
Waist can send anyone on quest
Her pouty lips reminds of Jolie
Nature gave her in abundance nothing redundant
But O girlie, beware of the ensnared eyes
Oh, Oh, no more, no more,
Remember, Remember
No more yearnings go to your learning’s
Remember your rammed memories
Pluck not the flower
Let it be the delight of other travelers
Do I have to remind you of what you penned?
Very recently on John Keats and Shelley.
Let the beauty be floating
And sink the beast to unfathomable depth.
+++
November 29, 2014
Form Lyric
Third Place Win
N.B. Based on John Elton's song (Don't remember the words of the song)
Lord, here I am today;
You already know, perfectly, the many themes
churning in my mind, my heart,
like a child's spinning top they whirl around,
blurring together in one confusing frame
all the old insecurities, the vulnerabilities, the sorrows.
Even before I start to pray, You already know.
How foolish I am at times...
I don't talk to You;
I just go on my way trying to solve my problems,
my husband's problems, my children's problems,
the world's problems...
carrying on my weak shoulders
burdens far too great for me to bear,
You long to share them, to wear the yoke with me;
help me remember in those times
that only You in Your great wisdom know
what is needed in each circumstance;
You love everyone equally
and only You can do what is just and holy.
Forgive my neglect...
I am busy with the business of life
and I forget how trivial it all is
compared to You, Your love,
and Your infinite pleasure in communing with me.
Renew today and every day
the joy of my salvation;
help me relish the relationship I have with You,
my Father and my best friend.
I pray for those who are leaders over us;
God, they need Your knowledge
for we are facing perilous times,
more so than I remember in my lifetime.
Create within their hearts
a great hunger to come to You
for the strength and wisdom needed to insure and protect our freedom
and to stand for the weak and helpless in the world.
Help me be honest with myself
and fair with others.
Give me grace to face the inequities of earthly living
and to extend mercy to those who hurt and abuse me.
Make me newly aware that joy comes
in obedience to You and service to others.
I know that many people do not share my faith;
I would be kind, gracious and respectful to them
that they might see a true picture of You
in my speech and actions.
Bring me to people today
who need Your touch,
Your loving care
and, then, let them feel You in my hands.
May my living be a praise song to You,
a sweet perfume...
Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright, September 3, 2014
The towers are gone, but the ash and blood still whirl around...
Gone but not forgotten is our mantra...
Our pacifier
Our breath for the next war.
They want to build a mosque in the shadow of our horror.
They say its innocent-a friendly gesture well intended.
A brick-and-mortar center for religion- understanding and tolerance.
But history suggests that they build over sites of conquest.
I say let them build.
The winds of wisdom and truth
will blow the sands off true intention.
I say let them build.
Let them taste our ash, manna, and brother karma
Over the hallowed ground of:
freedom of
speech
religion
Twin towers
that
can
never
be
brought
down.
Never
gone
never
forgotten
the
golden
chord
of
our very
existence.
Freedoms
of
infinite
purity.
The Endless Dance
As I look up at the moon
I tend to think of it as being alone
Floating in the deep dark cold
Surrounded by nothingness
But then I remember
Something I tend to forget at times
It is not alone
For it is bound by gravity
To the Earth
To the other planets
To the Sun
To the Galaxy
To Superclusters of Galaxies
To the entire Cosmos
I smile
I see them all whirl around
Bound to each other
In the endless dance
When the magnificent moon rose to the night sky,
My heart began to pump harder and faster.
The energy of its rays coursed through my veins,
Forcing all of my senses to become sharper.
I could hear the howling of wolves far away, and my
Hand began to twitch for my bow and arrow.
Still, I walked into the bitter, dark night,
Stretching out my hand as if
To hold the delicate tendrils of the light.
Slowly, my body began to remake itself.
My body began to become stronger, more beautiful,
And younger. I fed off of the light,
Absorbing as much as I could
Before Day would come and steal its glory.
I heard light footsteps behind me
Causing me to whirl around and startle the approacher.
"O mighty Artemis," the young child began.
She quickly dropped down on her knees.
My smile beamed like the moon
As I beckoned her to stand up.
She stood and continued speaking:
"A man has been found spying upon us.
As much as you are truthful and honest, his tongue drips
With words covered in honey though the words are full of
His cunningness and poison. What would you bid us
To do with this man?" She said but spitting out the
Word man. She was one of my prized huntresses
And learned only from the best about life's philosophies.
"Bring him to me," I said. There was only one punishment
Fit for this kind of disgusting, manly characteristic.
All of my darling Huntresses paraded out of the vegetation,
Into my open field lit only by the royal light of the moon.
One of the girls brought the cunning man forth,
Slung over her shoulder like a useless sack.
She dropped him on the ground before me,
My eyes bore daggers into this pathetic thing bowing to me.
The male sex disgusted me.
They believed in themselves too much.
They were rough with those around them, grace-less
To those who associated with them,
And always in a state of dirt and grime.
I am exhausted from this dance with misery.
I feel faint at the intenseness of my tribulations.
My sudden spirit lingers in the shadows of despair.
I no longer want to whirl around in the turbulent winds of iniquity.
I wish to be free of black vipers snapping at my heels.
Release me O'Lord from this burdensome fever of condemnation.
I wish to alienate myself from corrupt disparities in this vast darkness and bathe in the sun.
The thirst of my soul desires a quenching sip of thou divine grace.
Let me dine on peace and spiritual prosperity.
Give me the strength to shed this evil raiment.
Let me rest my weary soul on the road to redemption.
copyright 2016 Labyrinth of Life
Winter Hope
When Winter winds begin to whirl around
and whisper through my long and lonely days,
I’ll light the fire and stoke it with a poem
and hope I find some comfort in a phrase.
When flowers in my garden turn to seed,
and all the trees stand naked in the field,
I’ll plant a poesy on my window sill
and hope I find contentment in its yield.
When daylight seems scarce as a fresh-cut rose,
and darkness settles in for months on end,
I’ll write a song to keep me company
and hope the melody will be well penned.
The winter chill will not discourage me,
when I can create hope with poetry.
Our hearts have strings like guitars
Once passionately tuned
With melodious notes
Beautiful harmonies
Are conceived
These guitars
Instruments of bliss
Send soothing vibrations
To the universe around us
Totally energized
By these heavenly lyrics
The dervishes swiftly decide
To whirl around their hearts
Sanctuaries of love