Best Withdraws Poems


Sand Dollar Dreams

It's quiet here - quiet in a way that catches me off guard. The tranquility is almost tangible, something I can touch and hold and wrap around myself. I can hear the pulse of faraway waves, the faint hum of the wind, the nonsensical call of distant seagulls. I can hear my own heartbeat, pounding along with the waves. 

As I kick off my sandals, my spirit steps out of my body, leaving behind the material baggage of city life. The sand is soggy beneath my feet and I know my footprints will disappear when the sea rises, as if I were never here at all. 

It's low tide, that magical time when the sea recedes to reveal the ocean floor. Grooves of sand catch pockets of water that are half-buried mirrors, reflecting pale blue sky and slices of violet sunlight that glitter like chipped diamond. 


a vocal seagull 
descends toward liquid skies –
reflections ripple

At low tide, a second beach emerges, stretching all the way across the bay to the opposite shore. I walk slowly, tasting salt on the breeze as it runs invisible fingers through my hair. Strands sweep across my face, catching in my eyelashes before fluttering free once more.

The beach is a dream catcher, snagging small treasures when the sea withdraws. And I am a child again, fascinated by the hermit crab retreating into his shell as I approach. I spot the dimpled surface of an urchin’s shell peeking out from wrinkled sand. Other shells are scattered across the beach, some upside down, exposing smooth, pearly souls.


a tiny starfish 
drifts beneath placid water –
lost constellation

When I find a sand dollar, my breath catches. It’s perfectly whole, with smooth, rounded edges and clean, ivory skin. It’s heavy and light all at once, the flawless design at its center subtle and brilliant, like a delicate floral tattoo. How many hours had I spent here as a child, searching for this transitory coin? 

My eyes fill with unexpected tears as my vision wavers behind distorted pools of grief. I’m half-blind until I blink, releasing salty rivers down my cheeks. Even then, my sight is murky.

My tears taste like the ocean and I think, suddenly: Whose tears fill the sea?



Written: November 4, 2015
For Charlotte's "Creative Haibuns" Contest
Categories: withdraws, memory, nature,
Form: Haibun

Premium Member Promise of Hope--Edited

Streaks of anguish like drooping trees
Entrap pale hours across nightscape ,
Then crushing low  upon my feet 
Each leaf's motion reflects one bid
In neutral shades when moon withdraws--
That all around, on pine and lake,
My flame of hope enkindles breath 
To glint  beyond  November's chill,
Awaiting a young son's return
From war-torn grounds cold as hoarfrost:
Till  leaves  form a halo , renewed
Adorning yard its lambent sheen,
Through colored tints which now imbue
A promise blest, of new life's course!



Hope, Old or New Poetry Contest
For Carolyn Devonshire   1/07/2019
~ New Entry
Categories: withdraws, blessing, devotion,
Form: Blank verse

Premium Member On Rainy Afternoons

From nowhere,
a type of sadness descends 
as that which sometimes possesses  
a child on rainy afternoons
when what is vulnerable withdraws
and curls up in a corner 
of the mind to seal
itself with silence. 

It's a sadness that doesn’t 
wear a name, more like a shadow
cast by something way back
that memory has forgot
or put away concealed 
behind a veil of sleep.
It comes creeping
out of the quiet

and hangs as a blur
beyond the reach of sight,
a blank in the headlights
of a child’s far away stare,
without shape or form,
a sadness perhaps left 
by a scar or the imprint 
of a longing cast by a previous life,
or nothing, nothing more
than an ordinary sadness
that comes upon us all
on rainy afternoons, 
when we are alone.
Categories: withdraws, child, sad, solitude,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


The Green Bench

Hidden past the highway bend, 
a bench clings to a shallow cliff
above a beach where banks extend
across the bay in sandy drifts.
When tides are low, the sea withdraws,
to flaunt the treasured ocean floor,
and anyone can walk across
the sand to reach the other shore.
With green paint peeling like old flesh,
the bench is baked in salt and sun.
Remember when the paint was fresh,
and in your arms I came undone? 
From here, we watch the water snag
in grooves of sand like buried mirrors. 
The sky is pink as sunlight fades.
Come close, my love, I need you nearer.

*This poem is based on the green bench (yes, it really exists!) at Sand Dollar Beach, located in the Rose Bay area of Nova Scotia, Canada
Categories: withdraws, summer, green,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member When Love Endures All

Damp evening wanes over the hills
To trail away, so far from sight
My burnt eyes watch a hollowed dusk
Evanescing into the night :
Our deep affection takes a leave
For it’s wartime… and off you go,
While petals drop their silhouettes
Against ache of hours’ afterglow.

My raking breath withdraws from me,
Like raked twilight’s painful behest
When nothing but our love endures;
As seasons drown this empty  nest…
TILL   your lively voice peals to call,
Igniting wait of  ardor's sway--
How  immeasurable    rapture
Greets evensong and fate, halfway!


~*~   
10/1/2017
Love for Movie Screens :A Silent One Contest
Categories: withdraws, devotion, endurance, love,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Avante-Garde of Vellum and Ink

THE AVANTE-GARDE OF VELLUM AND INK 

The avante-garde of vellum and ink, like Cupid’s bow and arrow,
Carte blanche to choose the muse we love - imagination’s marrow.

Bullseye of introspection, a deep inkwell — my bona fide intention.
The juxtaposition — a cacophony of the archer’s winepress contravention.

Well-perched anomaly, like high-wire birds, of hitchcockian suspense.
A honeyed deja vu, a kiss well spent, on charismatic common sense.

Ennui, eventually, my pen withdraws, a flatline — without insipid beat.
Paddles renew my heart — this dilettante soon rises from her invalid seat.

My spirit glows rainbow baroque, pearls vagabond dance with abandon.
Ambrosial-sassy elan drizzles like syrup, on sweet spot pancakes land’n.

1/16/2018
Silent One’s Ten Words Ten Lines 2 Poetry
Words: avante-garde, carte blanche, bona fide, cacophony,
anomaly, deja vu,ennui, dilettante, baroque, elan
Categories: withdraws, writing,
Form: Couplet


Anchored On a Windy Beach

I
Anchored on a sun filtered shore 
Upon rocks which lay the days of yore 
In swirling pristine aquas of alluring calm 
Let it serenade heal my bruised palm

To chronicle tales of my hearts longings 
And memoirs of my gradual bondings 
To enthral my thoughts in the expanse of time 
Parading on the lowly impasse of my prime 

To write poetry ,prose or mystery fiction
Titled love on a mission to submission 
For winds of change will unravel the future
And the dust of defeat will cover the past 

II 
Invulnerable In dens of sublime realms
where embers of hope forever gleams 
Sparked moments that never fade nor flicker 
Down the coconut groves lining the ocean Vast 

Departing the depths of calamity chosen 
To savour the dews of my late night hours   
And devour not the memorable endeavours 
For beauty was with me in those moments 

One Inevitably engulfed in avid desires
An adherent of the much awaited messiah 
With amalgam of glee and humility 
And simple life of truth and sincerity 

III
Traversing the blissful cavalcade holds 
I contemplate in dissonant folds 
Harrowing scenes from the sunset vives 
I linger in my skimming crimson skies 

Seemingly, my life plied on out worn roads
Embalmed by these hands in worded codes 
In tongues of my fore fathers decent 
I will lounge in their culture with no lament 

Like those who came before me 
Who fought oppressors from over the sea 
and their legends enshrined in echoing songs 
Of "murmurs of pleasures, pains, and wrongs"

IV 
Whereon mindful of the lot i ought to do 
Arrayed within scenes from over the hue 
Gradually with hasty steps into depths unexplored 
And withdraws, into chambers of happiness and scenes adored 

To let the crest of my turning tossing mind detach from fearful odds 
And my blessed struggling kind flee from the twilight of the earthly gods 
So my heart and soul finally infuse with the fluidity of my course 

Down the  avenues of my maturity 
Down the patterns of my progress 
Down the depths of my humility 
Down the tangled maze of my life I confess...

..In swirling moon beams of alluring calm 
A faith in doubt amid a battering qualm 
Under clouds which housed the days of yore 
On this shell and plastic littered shore.
© Kofi Amed   Create an image from this poem.
Categories: withdraws, africa, beach, beautiful, confidence,
Form: Free verse

I Am

I am A shadow That lurks on The wall that has No Home None at all But to have no home a 
Shadow would say is worst way to live out each day. 

I am The shower cap covered in rust i do not work right  but I am a must so you put up
with me for the time being until you used me all for your need.

I am an outcast who sits alone who is treated like I do not belong and goes off alone to
cry plotting his end as others laugh at me and spin wicked lies about things I've done 
making me wish i ended it with a gun.

I am the friend you once had that moved away and made you sad but said good by and turned
away as you tried to stop me and make me stay but i smile and say the words you wished to
hear all those years.

I am me a young man with hope who ends his day trying to cope with the withdraws from
drugs like dope and cry's as he chokes on his own words when he looks at you and you spit
and curve away from me and all i did was say hi to ye but it wasn't you that made me cry
it was the feeling of wanting to die to hide away from the world from those who say 
I Am a mess a nothing a no one.
© Jeff Smith  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: withdraws, sad, teen, urbanwords, me,
Form: Rhyme

Nature's Rage

This is a long extended night,
   The stars all hibernate,
The blustery gusts revolve around
   The dreams which suffocate. 

Now the torrents lash my door,
   And now they slam the shade,
'Be couched right here, and do not move',
   The whispers promptly bade.

Out there I glanced, the wild tree pranced,
   She swayed her tipsy stem,
All drenched and dark, the leafy arc
   Seems like her death-gown's hem.

Is that mere downpour, or a sign,
   An omen of the time?
The thunders clash with louder splash,
   Upon the lakebed slime.

My window pane is stabbed by rain,
   One thousand spears en masse,
They prick the eaves, pummel the leaves
   To the level of the grass.

The flickering lamp will die at once,
   It does not cease to pour,
A marble sculpture drowns beneath
   The water on the floor.

That which gives life can take it too,
   Lo there it heaves its head,
The shrine's bemused, the priest presumed
   A curse on holy bread.

It has to cease within no time,
   The devil's thunder roars,
The gale allays his evil play
   Withdraws his wondrous force.


28th September, 2021
Categories: withdraws, gothic,
Form: Ballad

Premium Member Peace in Solitude

To embrace solitude is to find peace.
Solitude, everybody feels it.
Even when we are young,
we sense it sometimes, and look away
when a friend drifts apart.
Then we laugh for years in the bustling
crowd, carefree and fulfilled. But a friendship,
that started with joy, dissolves
into whispers at a party,
and a sibling from youth fades
slowly without a word.
If a close bond sustains us
through tough times, our dearest ally will leave
at their warmest and most genuine.
New acquaintances come and go. All go.
The friendly neighbor who mentions
that he's not staying
is fleeting. The closest friend,
busy with his own life,
withdraws under stress he cannot manage.
Another colleague of decades turns distant
with a comment that fractures ten years.
Let us walk in the forest at twilight
and accept that it is calming
and gentle to find peace in solitude.
Categories: withdraws, loneliness, solitude,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Aura of Haze

wrapped in summer's
aura of haze
an almost full moon
alternately
bursts forth and withdraws
withdraws and springs forth
plays 'peek-a-boo'
with this nyctophiliac
Categories: withdraws, me, moon, night, sleep,
Form: Imagism

Premium Member I Am

the clockwise spiral
withdraws the universe
manifestation and movement 
making potential all that is kinetic
humming at a stillness point
at core of consciousness 
being the eternal I Am

then the exhalation
creative energy in motion
allows dream forms to dance
in the template of sacred geometry 
wherein I Am all that is manifest
present as love’s heartbeat
within each earth entity

repeated immersions
into whirlpools of duality 
gradually refines sensibilities 
of eternal light of Self which I Am
that merging into heart of God
I glisten therein like a gem
radiating love and light
Categories: withdraws, god, i am, self,
Form: Free verse

Darkness

somewhere in the depths of self
pity holds a child tight
mind spills her dreams
on star-filled nights
and reflections of yesterdays
echo through mirrored smiles

through framed glass i trace her smiles
soon realizing child is self
i search memories of yesterdays
but mind's gate seems closed tight
darkened same as rainy nights
tears fall sofly like her dreams

if once i could fulfill her dreams
would my own face reflect smiles?
could mind find piece on sleepless nights
if  answers were released from self?
i seem to keep these memories tight
that robbed me of my yesterdays

not knowing the pain of these yesterdays
i've tucked away most old dreams
blocks of memory hold them tight
under lips bearing mona lisa smiles
and child withdraws within self
as days blend into nights

or dark thoughts blend days and nights
in all of these forgotten yesterdays
i choose not to pity self
just escape in new dreams
cracking occassional smiles
as loved ones hold me tight

yet when my eyes are pressed tight
i find myself fearing nights
quickly losing one of these smiles
to a brief memory of my yesterdays
safely tucking away all my dreams
deep within troubled self

seeking revenge on self with blades pressed tight
i try to hide through dreams from nights
haunted by yesterdays that robbed this child's smiles
Categories: withdraws, childhood, confusion, life, child,
Form: Sestina

My Green Lady

Green, green, is my lady's face
If ever friends become common place
Should I converse with others too long
She hangs her head in selfish disgrace.

When another comes along
And she catches me glancing wrong
Her attention then becomes quite keen
With her grip becoming doubly strong!

Green, green, is my lady's sheen
And you may just consider it mean
That I would elate to see her changed
To that covetous shade of pea green.

You see, she's a wee bit strange
In fact I think she may be deranged
For, she purposely ruins all my moods
I just can't wait until we're estranged!

Green, green, and terribly prude
And a great cook if you like stale food
She's always asking, "Is she the one?"
To names my conversation alludes.

She seems to weigh a whole ton
And withdraws if I ever have fun
Then, should I ever come home at dawn
She makes me recall the things I've done.

Green, green, is that devil's spawn
Who always makes me feel withdrawn
And when she pressures me to excess
I close my eyes and wish she was gone.

Well, I really should confess
My lady is....."Lady Loneliness"
And only Father Time will attest
To her who lays my lady to rest.



                               Timothy I. Brumley
Categories: withdraws, funny, hope, romanceme, may,
Form: Personification

Must Give Us Pause

If death ends all we see
in Nature’s laws—
to be, or not to be,
with no applause—
and seas of troubles flee
when life withdraws,

then how we choose to plumb
the waters deep…
or whether dreams may come
in final sleep
need never foil
our glee of fancy free…
though mortal coil
may give us pause…

But what if there be more
than what we know—
a door beyond the door
to  come and go?

What further living dream
may round us form,
in endless norm,
that carelessly we cause,
and doth existing seem,
must give us pause…

an independent and 
dependent clause
of consequential strand
must give us pause…

another cosmic clime
in timeless time,
a stream of conscious I’m
in reasoned rhyme
that carries all our flaws
must give us pause…

who’ll snatch us from the jaws
of slated fate—
that we create…
then vainly grasp at straws—

must give us pause…

For should we risk perchance
to miss the mark,
but dizzily to dance…

what dream of dark
in coverlet of gauze
may whelm our dying pause,
and pierce with karmic claws…

to make us heed
in thought, in word, in deed,

indeed,

must give us pause…
must give us pause…
must give us pause…




~ Harley White
Categories: withdraws, death, deep, dream, imagination,
Form: Verse
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