Best Yearn For Poems
I am to him a Stradivarius, a treasured violin
His bow expertly caresses my supple strings
My body moans when tucked beneath his chin
Revving to his rhythmic pulse, my heart sings
I am the delicate ivory he strokes on his keyboard
his adventurous fingers roam over me in staccato
Those romantic interludes he's adeptly scored
accompanies intimacy to the point of crescendo
I am the mouthpiece on his golden saxophone
Our blues brings about passion and lustful desire
From a distance I hear the pitch of a lone trombone
Emotions build with the heat of a roaring wildfire
Across the well worn bridge of his idle acoustic guitar
I yearn for the virtuoso's touch to strum my chords
But there's no harmony, although we've come so far
No gliding glissandos found at the tips of drawn swords
Now he plays mournful melodies on a native Hopi flute
Reflecting our lives in every wistful and somber note
We're both lost, wandering like phantoms in pursuit
of lost love. We're adrift without oars or sail for our boat
With each wave a tear falls as I lay sheltered in the bow
He sits astern listening to music whistled by the wind
staring at the far horizon with worry etched on his brow
Is this, I wonder, punishment for those who have sinned
"Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light." - Dylan Thomas
"Go with peace toward the light./ God knows your time, and it's all right." - My persceptive
Long life I’d wished for when my health was best,
but that was a very long time ago.
It’s fine now to yearn for eternal rest.
At one point in my life, I’d been so blessed.
Then winds of afflictions began to blow.
Long life I’d wished for when my health was best.
Bad neck, bad shoulder, hip, cancerous breast,
then something even worse, so I can know
It’s fine now to yearn for eternal rest.
How smug I had been before I processed
that each decade would bring me a new woe.
Long life I’d wished for when my health was best.
Though Dylan with his poetry had stressed
fighting death, it’s not with rage I’ll let go.
It's fine now to yearn for eternal rest.
I wish for health to be again my guest.
This I still desire, but the sun sinks low.
Long life I’d wished for when my health was best.
It’s fine now to yearn for eternal rest.
Anacreontic Verse
Busy buzzing bees
and beautiful
butterflies
sip nectar
from pretty flowers
in my garden.
Colourful pansies,
scented sweet peas,
pink begonias
and red carnations
brighten the borders.
I sit in the sun
enjoying the warmth
and beauty
that surrounds me.
Summertime -
I just adore
this season
of the year
albeit only
for the few
warm sunny
rain free days
that we get
on my tiny isle
in the UK!
Anacreontic Verse 4 Contest Sponsored by Edward Ebbs
07~22~16
A yearn… simply something that you want or long for. As a yearn to finish, a yearn to achieve, a yearn for a like, a yearn for a smile is something that you drastically want, a desire. Something that you spend long hours, nights even day dreaming hours thinking about how you can earn that smile. What can you do…. or what can you say … things such as a conversation sparks, likes even dislikes, mostly anything that will crack a smile. These are things that truly show signs of something far greater than fame, sex, money, power. What is it? Something more than I have yet to find. So as I search for the answer I over shoot the entrance with rapid thinking of what she wants, her likes, her dislikes. But truly it will only be earned by who you are, what you want to be, yourself, your feelings your desires, your yearn. So when you yearn for that smile or that special something it can only be earned by being you, no one else. Take a look at yourself in the mirror and try to see past the makeup or tan or piercing and just look at yourself… then take that image and imprint it to yourself forever because to find happiness and your yearn can only be earned one way. Trying to watch her and she how she reacts to certain things just to make myself seem better when I finally open my mouth to her will only make you distant from that special someone. With me I personally see myself as buff pierced orange person, while trying to continue to follow the people who I look up to the most. So as you struggle and go through life’s trials and tribulations always look at your yearn or what it once it what was. Think about how you felt when you failed or succeeded and try to make yourself a better person from it. Not by adding more glamour or appeal to yourself but by being closer to yourself. What you really are. Because only then can you truly say you earned your yearn of a smile or that special someone, even if there not with you, apart of them will be and that’s the part they left. The part that made you better. More complete. So never forget your yearn of her..
The yesteryears have been blown away into a distant past
But no dust has covered it and no moss has grown over it
The heart checks in its return flight of vivid moments still fresh
Life then was full of hopes, unexplored dreams, and enthused with ambitions
The present wasn't of so much of importance as looking into the mystifying future was
With vivacity the youthful heart kept unlocking one door after another
I had no idea what was behind the shut door but the curiosity goaded me on
I now overview the opened doors but eyes hunt for the keys of the next locked door
Nothing has changed except that the parchment I'm wearing has grown older
The irrepressible heart forgets the present instead goes numb and moist at the past
We swim between the sentimental perished years and the imagined cherishing future
It is the present that has remained vulnerable, aloof and distant from being celebrated
Ironically what has gone out of hand and what is not in our hands holds us spell bound
June 11, 2016
For John Lawless
The sky is dark,
the stars are falling.
The wind blows cold wind,
on deathless person.
From night to night,
I wonder why.
Why I can't let,
my heart beat once more.
Then I see,
everyone else.
With their faces
aglow.
Oh I wish for that special feeling.
That special person.
Who would want to be
with me.
But yet that person is not here.
Yet that person has not found me.
My heart beating less and less.
Yet I yearn for it more.
I know I should wait,
but yet I don't want to anymore.
Wish I could find her,
and Wish I can see her.
For till then,
I shall yearn for it more.
"Take Me There Contest, Judged 01/21/2023/ NA"
I yearn to visit the eternal city of Rome,
St. Peter's Basilica with its tall dome;
oh, love the beautiful gilt and art,
the holiness touches my heart.
The Sistine Chapel,
breathtaking,
the ceiling dappled.
I want to walk cobbled streets,
and pause for some Italian eats.
To see the Vatican garden and catacomb,
to wander outdoor markets and just roam.
I
yearn for
normalcy
Awakening
my dormant, sleeping imagination
Wistfully searching for idealism
Envisioning
the world as
it once
was
STRAND COMPLETELY NEW (24) ,any form,any theme (Winner: 1st Place)
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Date: 08/18/2020
I yearn for my childhood Christmas, when things were easier.
No responsibilities that was parents stuff Cookies were baked for Santa with milk To bed early could not sleep Dreaming of Santa until sunrise What a delete playing with new toys Mom cooked we all ate
Date Written: 11/29/2021
3 Place
#9. yearn
''Y'' Contest, New Poems - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
sometimes i fantasize about
driving on the highway
going eighty
and swerving into oncoming traffic
will that make the hurting stop?
walking somewhere
alone in the dark
and getting cornered by a murderer
will that make the hurting stop?
being home alone
door bursts open
an intruder with a gun pointed right at me
aimed right at my head
will that make the hurting stop?
the medicine cabinet torn apart
four pill bottles scattered around me
all once full
now empty
will that make the hurting stop?
a blade in my hand, pressed to my wrist
finally brave enough
to go deeper than just the surface
will that make the hurting stop?
going to bed one night
head laid on my tear-stained pillow
and never waking up again
will that make the hurting stop?
will the hurting ever stop?
or am i destined to live like this forever?
i'm not even living anymore
i'm just surviving
barely surviving
against my own will
The beauty born from lovely melodies fill my visions.
Nature’s image transformed into a glorious tone,
Is found all over, extending earthly nature’s regions.
Even the sun appearing as a bright flower in the morn
Gives off its soft rays with the civility of the harp.
My eyes long to envision a view of something so fine,
So easy and encouraging so to appear that sharp,
The trademark and the product of God’s design.
Woman’s beauty when bathed by the Morning Star
May fool my eyes into thinking I see a goddess,
But it is only the splendor of the sun from afar.
Being sweep into a demure vision so modest.
Her womanly figure whether draped or not
Displays such a floral elegance to my prim mind,
As to render me to a period of no thought,
A facility of the most beautiful female kind.
Time robs us for long
As distance creates a vacuum,
You went away for a while,
Oh!,how I miss you,
You spark a wound in my heart,
which makes me yearn for your love.
8-12-2017
I yearn for raw love, unsculpted by time, unchanged,
The kind that is born at dawn's golden break and does not die at dusk,
That pulses in veins like an eternal river, undivided by norms,
Through the corridors of life, unfaltering, dreaming in bloom.
I desire pure love, not sown in the Babylon of feelings,
That which does not rise from a play on words or the illusions in vain,
It materializes in silent gestures, in looks that ask for no permission,
Finding its hidden truth in depths, not on wayward maps.
That very love, which doesn't wear the mask of convention on parade,
But clothes souls in the fiery red of pure and unsullied passion,
Which fears not to show the nakedness of emotion, nor its vulnerability,
A love that, with each blue sky, swears eternity, to descend warmly into the heart.
I seek that love which whispers secretly amongst the rustling of hidden leaves,
Which dances free under the silver rain of stars that watch from above,
A love to be the song that resonates in perfect harmony with the cosmic bow,
That in silences and in storms weaves its tale, far from the twilight's fading light.
A love that asks the stars for signs, that reads fate in outstretched palms,
It doesn’t chase echoes in deserted valleys, nor gets entangled at unequivocal crossroads,
That remains unswerving when the weariness of the moment weighs heavy on eyelids,
The one which, over time, weaves warm impulses where the raw word is not a porch, but fire.
There is plenty
Yet am empty
I need someone
But there is none
Wealth is not all
Alone I fall
Help me stand tall
Cuz I now fall
From whence comes love
Pure as a dove
To fuel my move
And build my grove
From whence comes care
To give me flair
The skies I stare
Something so rare
When all is still, with children tucked in bed
I yearn for you, in aching visions real
Fantastic thoughts are wont to fill my head
I call your name, and wait with breathless zeal...
The planets and the stars, within our reach
With you near me, the world's an eagle's wing
No need for words, our passions replace speech
As you and I embrace in night's brief fling
Iambic Pentameter