Best Whisking Poems
The people of this world are like the three butterflies in front of a candle's flame.
The first one went closer and said:I know about love.
The second one touched the flame lightly with his wings and said:
I know how love's fire can burn.
The third one threw himself into the heart of the flame and was consumed.
The alone knows what true love is.
Rumi
I sit alone in a silent field of fairness,
under saffron rays kissing sunflower serenity,
among dawn's daisies and dusk's dandelions -
watching buds floating away with whisking winds.
Fate does not favour my quest to soar freely.
In a meadow of humanity's betraying breaths,
our buttercup souls become ambushed by a suffocation of sighs.
When there is no justice in spiteful judgement,
visions of Basilisk slither with a deadly gaze.
Envious eyes poisoned by potions of venom,
abuse the selfless mistress of my garden's muse -
but without Eve there would be no Adam nor Eden.
Weeping on the grave of her past self,
her fatigued spirit struggles to fight and rise.
I watch darkness ascend in springtime,
when her mind portrays a veil in the misery of mist.
I feel like a helpless flame burning in ivory wax.
Untreated wounds with time festering
into an ebony existence of self deprecation.
I can see butterfly hunters with their narcissistic nets,
chasing my imperfectly perfect empress of empathy.
Her heart hungers for a plethora of petals,
to hover from a ruby rose to lotuses of liberty,
but predatory birds like harlots and hussies,
have lured her into a withering winter colony of thorns.
Sorrow stitched her eyes closed with merlot thread,
as her sanity sits upon the edge of heaven and hell.
The Devil wears a hat with an emblem of her sins.
The bewitching conspiracy of his crimson eyes,
tempting to massacre the magnificence
of her invisible crystal wings of bronze and gold.
In a martyrdom of self-sacrifice,
love reminds her that kindness glows softly like fireflies,
as she tries to find light in a tunnel of lost thoughts.
The universe echoes her cosmic whispers of life,
as psychedelic ink shimmers like starlight in her veins,
pouring compassion into a selfish blank canvas of hearts.
Cherry blossoms tint the air pink
and she's looking at the world through their gaze,
but knows like everything,
their fragile beauty is only momentary.
Categories:
whisking, absence, analogy, discrimination, love,
Form:
Free verse
~ZOMBIE NIGHT~
WHINING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Moonlight vanishes to complete despair
Bones slowly desert distorted resting homes
Ascension of the dead -Longing to live again
Sands of desert flip the hour glass back
WHIMPERING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Moonlight vanishes to complete despair
Bones slowly desert distorted resting homes
Taking light from where evil stays
Feeding away leaving behind a death valley zone
WONDERING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Moonlight vanishes to complete despair
Dead souls forsake the common land
Shadowing like Equinox light
Walking corpse covered in rotten barren sand
WINDY WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Upright, forward broken taboo
Searching for the perfect breath of fresh air
Sounds of symbols march the ground
Searching to find their missing heartbeat
WHISKING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Ascension of the dead -Long to live again
Bones slowly desert distorted resting home
Moonlight vanishing in complete despair
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
WHEN WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
by;PD
Categories:
whisking, confusion, death, halloween, horror,
Form:
Free verse
Rice fields look the same except
for this one; this one who knew me
before i was born… and lying on her
fertile belly, she tosses the mist
of evening’s bamboo for raindrops to
moisten the flesh of gentle cattle.
Through serenades from elders
gathering in a bonfire of twitters
and jousts,a carousel of birds wheels
in a rhapsody, then takes flight along
scented air whisking tiny lanterns
near the plain,while rivers blue twirl
on rustic clay. How beautiful can she be!
I must have twirled with her on a cradle
of blushing petals swirling oh so feathery!
Waking up for some reason, dusted grains
on my eyes ignite this one
spectacle tryst with my rice field
where I have become different...
my head throbbing in sweet surrender,
perhaps, claiming the very floor
of my navel through her ripened harvest.
...................
Judged and Finalized 6/18/2016
I Got Zero, Nothing, Nada -1
Contest of Broken Wings
Resubmitted 7/1/2016
Categories:
whisking, beautiful, places,
Form:
Light Verse
½ cup sass
1 tbsp eye roll
2 cups suprirotive
1 cup white privilege
½ tsp rudeness
1 brand new car, softened
5 oz brand name clothing
A dash of allof, to taste
Add all ingredients together, while whisking in misinformed news media. Mix thoroughly for pretentious.
Categories:
whisking, 12th grade, culture, people,
Form:
Let me be the first
to have the audacity to translate,
This piece of mystery molded
in a magical meadow of mistakes,
The reckless subject, there,
just standing still like a landscape of order,
Disfiguring a flow of ridged ribbons
in shapes of unheard names,
Carelessly manipulating my optical
constructors to articulate promises
from paper wings,
Bewitched by the light warm
slash of sun laid upon the raging tides
within trembling silence,
How far charms can go to seduce their
way into a destructive satisfaction,
Might it'd been too kind to dry brush
around the edges of your shadows,
When the basement of your
intentions homed disturbing dreams,
Hunting for the tremors from
freezing nightmares that pray to
bury my ocean and all it's devotion,
Where do the ones who
seek the sins of lost words hide?
While half of the living cling
onto the drifting light,
This shrewd figure that clasps on
the thousand synonyms of shallow tears,
Whisking a bath of blades for
my pane of glass that hold scads of scars,
The pace of time, travels differently
when I try to captivate you through my sketches,
I am told by the tones of my pencil,
that your armor shields a menacing maniac,
Too cowardly to battle for your own persistence,
So hold on to what's left of your timid thoughts,
Sadly strength has long evaded you.
Categories:
whisking, emotions,
Form:
Free verse
Written: December 31, 2023, For Unseeking Seeker Contest
_____________________________________
“God within me is the enjoyer of the aroma
As also this dopamine boosting flavour I taste
I surrender all pleasures to the dweller of my heart
Breath by breath thus that my soul presence be chaste”
I wrestle symbolically every day,
While whisking my whimsical mind
For palatable aroma of java-laced cream
Each tantalizing sip satiates soul scarcity,
I taste dopamine-inducing elixir
Idly percolating aromas amplify, blissfully
My psyche turns olfactory with each breath
Savoring pureness of quench coffee
True coffee lovers' sacred rite
Bred from mountain slope flora
Large, roasted grains
Combined with chives
Espresso of our selection
Invigorating the poetic muse.
A cloying symphony lingers
Caramel, chocolate, hints
Roasted beans croon a melody
Susurrous sumptuous surreptitious
startling soul's sempiternal shields
Java ushered to an ambrosian niche
Where time halts and fears sway
All worries dissolve
Java-infused serenade heals this soul.
Weary-treating opulent, black potion
Comforting and cheering
Sips reveal life's essence
A hint of sonata transcends clash
Every sip is a sensory delight
A fabulous favor, a flavor flipping
Utopian bitterness-sweetness mix
An inexhaustible smorgasbord style.
Aphonic aqua vitae aurifies my soul
Seeking solace in stories of slight delights
In this brew, I uncover truth
A breath of blissfulness brings youth
Let aroma spread as I sip and relish
Nurturing and boldening my soul
I am enamored with Java core virtues
An idyllic instant resolves everything
Breath to breathe, I'll purify my soul
Savor and sustain every drop
During my coffee ritual
Feel a link to a bit victual.
Categories:
whisking, analogy, appreciation, character,
Form:
Free verse
By duskfall, I cruise with the sky,
throwing life’s pebbles unto ripples
of yearning… and she lifts her veil against
the moist air fondling the blue of night
unto my pale meadow…she whispers
before an interlude, refreshing my senses;
a warm potion to my languid thoughts
and pierced refrains, delicately whisking
shadows and cluttered notes: her luster
bequeathing new facets of hue
and a gleam for sweet beginnings
reaching for my wet skin with a melody
like a passage from tear's soundtracks,
then to grasp my wish on her halo.
Laying on columns of grass, I rise
to feel the sky cruising with me in the meadow.
Craig Cornish's Debussy Contest
6/10/2014
.
Categories:
whisking, music, sky,
Form:
Light Verse
Sleep with me under the afghan of stars
illuminary milk pouring out of heaven's jars
A storm of sliding satellites colliding can be ours
as we ribbon out our lives in whispered stories.
~Whisking up of ink in your eyes white peppered mint
while our breath entrances frost on the eve of night fall's wrist
We are still intangible, first here, but than a mist
as vagrant as sweet stars in their last glory.
Shoulders hug the trees with their limbs limp silhouette
while we strip translucent star capes to their bows with no regret
Moon beam pure explosions to beget and to beget
the light with which we pine for now in haste~
Sleep with me under the myriads of minds
which slept here before us and whispered in kind
We will be stardust ourselves you will find
as our wings of illusion unravel.
Categories:
whisking, adventure, happiness, imagination, life,
Form:
Rhyme
The Moonbeam Mari Anne
A poem by Brett Somers
The moonbeam graced the Austin sky,
The Mari Anne spirit whisking by. Spreading her love,
Her mysterious zest,
Manifesting turquoise upon my chest.
And back she slipped,
Beyond Austin she skipped,
Like a stone on placid waters,
The sound of her pitter patters.
Swoops into New York and settles in.
A jeweler of bead and pin,
Crafting her Mari Anne,
For yet another grateful and devoted fan!
This poem is dedicated to the gifted jeweler and accomplished graphic designer Marianne Walther!
-From WinkofHeart ;)
Categories:
whisking, creation, friend, magic, new
Form:
Free verse
As the morning breeze springing sprightful fragrance
Stolen cleverly when he kissed the soft colourful petals
I woke up into a new fresh delightful daylight
To taste once more my honeyed life and my blossoming day.
From my flat laying lazily at level six
I was contented to watch the sunrise
He rose with all his fervor and might
And I wished him a happy day out.
The sighing wind called me to look down the streets
Where I saw people in masks treading hastily
Like ants rushing here and there in hurry
Never they wish nor smile to any other faces.
Stand alone in bunches they waited for their turn
In buses or cars which ever halted to pick
Like strange samurai soldiers flying to a war zone
Never they wish nor smile to any other faces.
Fearful glances and rushing little steps
Even the whisking dresses frightfully heard as sneezes
My heart cried and burned seeing those pity stances
Oh, dear little creatures, stop your playful bounces.
The mighty human race moving towards a comess
When like weird aliens, Covid trying to invade
But tomorrow we will rise from our burning ashes
To tame you and make you a story for our coming cradles.
Third Place in N-A re-run 7 Poetry Contest sponsored by John Hamilton
Categories:
whisking, confusion, fear, health, sick,
Form:
Free verse
In the late dusk
Beneath a palm tree near the sea, gazing the sky
The celestial bodies seems like the jewels to the scene
Seeing the horizon, where the sun clash the sea
Laying in your lap
Holding hands of one-another
Looking to your glittering eyes and
The smile that gives goosebumps to me
The cold breeze whisking around
Your hair rambling over my face
Imagining our-lives together and forever
In the alluring home far-far away from civilization
Only and only just " You and Me "......
--- GAURAV KUMAR
Categories:
whisking, desire, love,
Form:
What if..
What if; it wasn't a lockdown forenoon
Mommies whisking to kitchenette
Daddy's out with newspaper headlines
Little cubs denned in their late quilt and wishing no schooling today
Rest world racing themselves to indulge in work deadlines
What if; it wasn't a lockdown noon
Chefs busy preparing victuals to serve in eateries
Office canteens loaded with lunch boxes and gossips
Some heading for evening tales
What if; it wasn't a lockdown evening
Coffee shops buzzing with bud pairs, roasted coffee beans and whiffs of smoke
Peeps roaming and returning their abodes before the dark was deep
Little cubs falling asleep in their study and no Surf, no Netflix
What if; it wasn't a lockdown night
Dinner table would filled with traffic and homework folklore
Bedtime would doubly the fairy's list-
Children wishing for no school tomorrow,
Men for hike up his business,
Women emancipation from irons of household chores and society norms
What if; it wasn't a lockdown
Contemporary would have been so lost in it's own bloods and veins
June month would have brought us fruity summer of 2020
And I would have written a poetry of love and lust
Categories:
whisking, 12th grade, beauty, conflict,
Form:
Epigram
I saw the little old man
With long white hair and yellow eyes
Whisking on windy nights
Through street lights and puddles.
I told him how I spend twelve hours a day,
Chasing, racing, and bracing,
And he gave me a wink and a yawn.
I asked him how I could stay awhile
On his sweet, secret, gentle side,
But he vanished without a clue.
Categories:
whisking, fairy, fantasy, society, stress,
Form:
Free verse
Written: September 22, 2023
______________________________________________________________
A realm of echoes, as olden and topical cascade
Lacking them tears my heart in the palmy shade
The wind howls, annihilating both virtue and vice
Whisking away remnants of love's dulcet spice
My vision and voice are hindered by the haze
I shirk all I've loved and split, with a tearful gaze.
Categories:
whisking, analogy, appreciation, memory, wind,
Form:
Rhyme
ICE SKATING
It seemed like yesterday, the pond rippled in delight,until the
Cold wintry air, set out to spread its plight,
Enchanting Mother Nature, cast a spell with frost abound,
Silently the waters stilled, forming solid ground,
Knitted scarves and mittens, caps pulled over ears,
Axels, loops and flying camels, performed without fears,
Traversing around each other, squealing shouts of glee,
Invoking friendship, offering a bond of camaraderie,
Night falls, the wind howls, whisking them away,
Good night, it has been, a wonderful winter's day!
December 31, 2016
Categories:
whisking, winter,
Form:
Acrostic