Best Whisp Poems
Having loved ones is an incredibly comforting feeling, but when you enter the vast
landscape of the mind and see only depression and despair, you become aware
that you are alone in your misery. Clinging to the last threads of sanity It feels as if
you are spiraling into a bottomless black abyss.
All sense of responsibility, joy, hope, drive, ambition and any concern for life are
gone like a whisp of smoke. There is no comfort offered when looking deeply into
who you are. Everything that you once held dear seems so pointless in the eternal
perspective of time. There is no escape from the futility of it all. Will I make a
difference or at least be a descent human being. If I do, what difference will it
make. Countless times have I looked into the never ending realm of insanity and
longed to leap into its welcoming arms. I can think of no greater blessing than to
lose one's capacity for self awareness.
Would I fall for all eternity or through the destructive force of madness find
normalcy. It all seems so hopeless. Some say life passes so fast that you should
cherish every moment. But, living out the drudgery of each day seems an eternity to
me. If I focus hard enough my minds eye sees exactly who I am. I have a self
loathing, over burdened, depressingly active, mentally challenged, sarcastic, twisted
thinking process. Process usually indicates order. Not in my case. My mind plumets
into a cold unfeeling wasteland that sends me into fearful fits of confusion where I
am overwhelmed with unrelenting incomparable anger. I ponder an escape , but I
realize I am destined to wallow in the company of despair and futility for all eternity
and deservedly so. Then it finally dawns on me that through my foolish decisions
and self destructive actions I have fulfilled my mission in life to be a stench filled
mass of human waste. I grieve for those who know the loneliness I feel when
journeying into the depths of the seemingly twisted internal machinations of my
mind. It is the only place that in all respects you are truly alone. I no of no other
place where hopelessness reigns as it does in the deep recesses of who I am. It
makes me wonder if I might be God's only mistake.
Categories:
whisp, depression, sadlife, me, self,
Form:
Lyric
I am the dying light in the sky,
That makes you wonder if you are real,
Or if i am all that is left of your existence.
And you my darling, are the same to me,
But in this lonely darkness,
I glow and wonder if I exist,
Or if you are all that keeps my light burning.
I breathe happieness from your laughter,
My light comes from the radience of your skin,
I steal my fire from your lips,
And when I feel myself burning out,
I gaze down upon your joy,
And it reignites my essence.
You long to touch me, to hold me,
And wonder if I can make you feel alive,
If I can fill you with heaven.
You do not know that when your fingers,
Sweep across my skyline,
You are filling me instead.
You never believed I could love you,
With all the fierceness of dragons now dead,
You never believed that anyone could love you as I have,
As I have and always will.
I fill your being as you so too fill mine,
And this lonely existence does not seem so sad.
I thrive off of your energy and strength,
My happiness grows from your smile,
My fire burns brighter for you,
And you do not know that you feed my soul.
I will love you till the last star has died,
And the sun is nothing but burning embers,
Ready to be a whisp of smoke,
And I am all thats left in the universe,
To fill you with wonder.
I will love you when your old bones,
Wither and turn to dust,
And ash is all thats left of the mountains,
And cracked clay all thats left of the rivers,
And a Graveyard lies where there was once an ocean.
I will love you beyond that,
And lie in the cosmic circles,
Dreaming of your warm skin,
And how it filled me for eons.
I will love you so much that-
I will search the universe for your atoms,
So I can piece you back together again,
And we can create the art of making love.
You never believed that someone could love you like that,
But you are the light in the world,
That makes me know that I exist,
That I am not just dying embers,
Without you in my arms,
I might never have known I could breathe.
Categories:
whisp, love, universe,
Form:
Free verse
The windchill is 45 below sanity
a snow man has frozen snot
dripping from his 1 carrot nose
but the cold doesn't stop the gun toll
in my sweet home Chicago.
27 dead across the Midwest
Frozen solid in the echo of their final step.
A snow shoveling heart attack,
took out a veteran who did three tours in Iraq.
Still three months to go till the sunspots warm up my soul.
My neighbor kept me awake, wielding a leaf blower.
To whisp away little puffs of snow.
He knows I work the graveyard shift.
but tomorrow I'll give him my happy hello.
He's on permanent disability drives a nicer car than me.
He's the one who rolled the snotty snowman.
into form even with his bad back.
Clever little mother#%$&*$
He'll never will have a heart attack.
There's a variety of starvation and riots.
Thirteen wars going on at present.
but the primetime gossips are obsessing about.
Trumps big orange belly and wispy hair...
Mercifully they cut to a Kotex commercial.
It's a good time to coffee up and take a piss.
I've got a very serious case of the polar vortex blues.
Categories:
whisp, confusion, heartbreak, humor,
Form:
Free verse
The winter snow and freeze killed everything
I planted in the spring,
Rhododendrons, roses, Hawaii hibiscus
And the bougainvillea orange king.
Parsley, sage and thyme are gone,
Peony and pansies too,
The daisies died and I still sigh
For the loss of primrose blue.
No more azaleas or alyssum,
Passionflower or peppermint,
The coleus did not last nor sassafras,
And goodbye to rosemary’s scent.
And all the leaves on the lemon tree
Look more like a weeping willow,
Sagging sadly as if begging madly
To finally let her go.
But Spring is looming ‘round the bend
And new seeds await good earth,
To come alive in sun-filled skies
And signify life’s worth.
As all things come, and all must go
In a whisp of place and time,
Like flowers and plants in a cosmic dance,
The seasons of life are Sublime.
© Terrell Martin, 01/27/2025
Categories:
whisp, metaphor, seasons,
Form:
Rhyme
The Poetess......
Suffered in angst and deep loneliness,
As her Jasmine poetry was anew and just growing.
“What good are my poems regarding truthfulness
or honesty?
Against seas of deceitful poems, puff-pretty, bright
glowing?”
The sweet,pre-spring rains came and gave not a
whisp of an answer.
Her soul and stomach did crave some reprise.
“No, no, rest, dear poetess, “words whispered
came in the form of a ballet dancer.
Then..what to do, she most freely wept?
“Stop looking for readers of my poems?”
Ah, a wondrous secret being kept?
“Stop, stop”, the laughing dancer said.
“Each poem you wrote once slept in
the soft bed of your heart.”
“Let it begone, and like a newborn butterfly...
alight with freedom and depart.”
3-15-2022
Categories:
whisp, freedom, inspiration, philosophy, poetess,
Form:
Rhyme
This morning it’s enough to sit by the sea
Playing my fingers across the crest of the waves
And watch the sun blossom over the tops of the trees
To simply feel the breeze whisp past my tender cheek
The sun’s bare warmth take the chill from my breath
Hear the tune of each wave played at its peak
It’s enough each day for me when I smile in delight
As the grackle calls out in welcome to begin once again
And the dawn slips away past the mauve painted light
It’s blessings enough to carry it back home to replay
As I busy myself doing the things that I do
The peace of the sea enough to share as a buffet
Tercet form (3 line with aba,, cdc, efe etc rhyme)
Honorable Mention Brians Choice 11
Categories:
whisp, appreciation, morning,
Form:
Free verse
Dawn's light roused me from morning mist
Upon my breast, his amber pendant lies
Gently awakened when warmly kissed
as sunlight dapples across my sleepy eyes
Upon my breast, an amber pendant lies
I stand at my window in a whisp of a gown
as sunlight dapples across my sleepy eyes
I weep in fear that my heart may drown
I stand at my window in a whisp of a gown
feeling the sun's comfort in a loving embrace
I weep in fear that my heart may drown
Tears brush my cheeks as he touched my face
Feeling the sun's comfort in a loving embrace
Gently awakened when warmly kissed
Tears brush my cheeks as he touched my face
Dawn's light roused me from morning mist
^__________May 23rd, 2017___________^
Contest: Form P, sponsored by Broken Wings
Categories:
whisp, grief, lost love,
Form:
Pantoum
she was but
a whisp of breeze
but caressed within her words
is a love of humanity
Categories:
whisp, dedication
Form:
Epitaph
There once was a myth wid a lisp.
She made brownies wid a wide whisp.
Leaving chunks, she swore,
the batter she wore,
this myth burnt the batch to a crisp.
Categories:
whisp, funnymyth,
Form:
Limerick
Fairies Stroke's Of Luck
Traipse taffaria fairies, comps citrine
fragrances, tis thirty orangey glean
plucked days hath November, foundation blend,
paints its labored autumns rests, well-earned friend.
Forbade naught tis these pristine fairies, gifts
kids pain brief, gather teeth hid neath pillows,
wands magical dreams, wield light, rare shrubs swifts,
primed raw fairies trainee, Greenwings, each knows.
Waned Fall grant wildflowers-stitched fairies, tell
all hibernate games and creatures stores, while
kids frolicked heaped leaves; aged viewed its hues, smile,
yon fairies whisp fringed season as chill fell.
Autumn ends twain fortnight, Jack Frost awestruck,
Blessed bounteous crop, a fairy's mint luck.
***taffaria; Fairies' wings are made of a special material called taffaria. This ultra-strong, silky and transparent material is clear at first glance but actually has all 7 colors of the rainbow in it. Red, purple, yellow, pink, blue, green and orange.
2019 October 30
*1st Place*
November Twinkle Fairy
~~Caren Krutsinger
Categories:
whisp, blessing, change, color, fantasy,
Form:
Sonnet
I talk, I scream but it seems so in vain.
I'm here but I'm not, you look but you do but you don't see.
I'm an outcast only seen when needed to be seen.
I blend in your world, mine is no more.
Rejection is so often it's the air I breathe.
I'm depanded on your lies and hypocrisy
using me as a scapegoat for their faults.
Blame me, for I am not real, not in your world.
Existance is a luxury, but on who's account?.
Account? Have i not paid enough for those pretentious?.
For those blantaly dismissing my existance to some scientific jargon.
I know life isn't a bed of roses
But resistance is futile.
As my world has been crushed by the stumbling ignorance of those visible.
If they are visible, what am I?.
Cellophane?, A spirit?, A ghost? A whisp of air hovering above your world?.
Invisible I am , you look right through me.
RONNY MADONSELA, LIZE-MARI BREYTENBACH
Categories:
whisp, inspirational,
Form:
Free verse
My favorite legend still has salt on it,
white freckles left from the sea of Colchis.
If you search carefully,
you might even find a whisp of golden byssus
slipping into your palm.
Chart laid out,
course set for the ram of Phrixus;
fleece beyond the friendly sea
one must brave the clashing rocks.
The gods will have their game,
but none can tame Lord Jason
but Medea,
daughter of Aeëtes,
high priestess of the temple,
beloved niece of Circe, who turned all men to beasts.
How many months at sea,
men slowly turning bronze behind the oars,
only men for company and out sight of shore.
How they must have bathed in the sea
as bare as fish
and just as quick and shining.
How well they mastered ropes and sweat,
muscles wrapped around their bones.
Who remembers who mended the sail?
No one. Yet on they sailed!
March 3rd 2020
Contest: Favorite Legend
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Categories:
whisp, myth,
Form:
Dreared Rains sing patteringly
of Joy
forgotten warmth ray and
Bluebird's tripping
fall from nest-
So high from where
once again life
shall resume When the rains whisp-
per southern
Winds
A. Green
Categories:
whisp, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
"all of us are on a journey and the answers are unspoken"
Quote by _Constance La France
Fading into the shadows, a night
Reflecting the past who is remembered
As the quietest moon, the most piercing
Stars, like laughter twinkling across forever,
Reminding the heart that, in time –
We will be together in that happy home
Where the greatest Son makes us His own
Weakening, like the evening sun
Who rises in the morning only to fall
Beneath the dark breath of a dusk
Who is breathing out silence in the spirit,
Awakening wonders who are blessings,
Filling each one with a gentle treasure –
His joy, His grace, His unending faith…
In dying, every leaf from the autumn
Remembers to dance on its way to the earth,
Swaying and swirling a waltz, old-fashioned
Music playing in the wind, fighting each whisp
For the moment when crisp, cool skies
Flash with laughing smiles, echoing truth –
His love will forever abide on the inside of the
Soul who knows Him as Savior, as hope –
He is the light who brings grace to the sun
He is the abiding peace that knows love…
Like this is a love that never ends – this, my friend,
Is a love that reflects the meaning of believing,
The soul’s gentle relief, the healing – that comes to life
On the edge of his garment, because of His sacrifice
Thank God, I know Him – I have eternal life…
Because His light shines on the inside where He abides
Forever and always, my heart’s greatest yearning…
Flowing with praise, satisfaction and sweetest grace!
Writing Challenge A Quotes - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
May 15, 2023
Categories:
whisp, appreciation, blessing, christian, faith,
Form:
Free verse
“Escape from the Gilded Cage”
Its bars are made of heartache;
Its gates of pure cruelty.
Her boredom paints the walls;
To insanity she pleads her fealty.
Her skin is bleached;
It has never been kissed by the sun.
She sits in her cage and bides her time,
Waiting for captivity to become undone.
Daylight unfurls its nasty claws,
Closing in on her.
She is a slave to the rays of sun,
Hoping for the lines to blur.
The light of day pierces her soul,
Its purity stirring her hate.
The light of day waxes and wanes,
Writing and sealing her fate.
Hour by hour she waits for night.
Waits for the cool caress of dark.
The chilled breath of blackened obscurity fans her face;
Its blanket curving over her in a lazy arc.
And in the deep black velvet,
Her imagination begins to soar.
For though the light kills her,
The dark breathes life into her forevermore.
Alas! The chariot of Apollo grasps the stars;
The hazy fingers of dawn grasp at the whisp of cloud.
Her dread rises with the sun -
Her cage awaits, tall and proud.
But in light’s harsh and rakish gaze -
In its unfeeling sea,
She clings desperately to driftwood memories of night’s sweet touch;
The fragrance of night’s fantasies.
Categories:
whisp, angst, dream, fantasy,
Form:
Couplet