AH, to be romantic
To place a single
Freshly cut rose
In a cup
And place it
On the breakfast table
To stealthily approach
Whispering a “growled”
I love you
On to the back of her neck
To place a “not so Hallmark” card
Seductively
In the grocery bag
For her to find
Oh, but to free
The lunacy of lust
Carouse about the house
Vacuum in hand
As she lifts her feet
While giving you that
“God, I love you Look”
Always remembering
Love is not a past tense word
It is a tension that lives
In the presence of lovers
A binding covenant
Written in the depth of now
Hard-etched frozen windowpanes
never two adorned the same.
Soft morning light filters through
setting jeweled fronds aflame.
Bitterly cold arctic winds
blustered around overnight,
spattering frigid patterns,
ornate brush strokes of delight.
A silver sylvan forest
where fairies carouse and dance
beneath bright crystal fern flags,
an impromptu frost romance.
Sharp icy fingers crackle,
poking downward from the eaves;
a short few hours of magic
then the glory melts and leaves.
July 16, 2026
For Pattern Poetry Contest
Sara Kendrick, Sponsor
Part One: What I Love
After seven decades I am satisfied
with the me I see, the inner self is beautified,
wounds of youth have healed well
and every scar to no longer dwell,
they were absorbed by tears I cried~
I write the words by which I tell
stories rich and maybe plied,
but absolutely bona fide!
Part Two: What I Regret
I admit I used to runaround,
party and carouse until I ran aground
against days-long blackouts
and poor decision fade-outs,
knowing my next stop was a grave mound~
Momma said the only way out
was for me to turnaround,
and become a sober devout.
Part Three: What I Hope
I have no grandiose plans for the future
because the future is unsure,
the present becomes my habitat
and I have no desire for idle chit chat,
time grows short, there is no cure
to stop death’s scat* whereat~
I will sing the words allure,
and dance upon the welcome mat.
* scat: singing jazz; the singer substitutes nonsense syllables for the words of the song and tries to sound like a musical instrument
Paris isn’t some wondrous far country.
We have noisy trash pickup and there are no Dairy Queens.
Ok, It may be far away but that’s your fault - let’s not dwell on it.
Don’t get me wrong, we’re wondrous enough - we have we have running water - some of it hot, and the other bare necessities of earthly happiness, like wi-fi and pizza.
Paris is like a melon - here’s where you get involved and picture a melon.
If you pictured bananas, those aren’t melons - they’re tropical fruits - try again.
Oranges? GEE-zus, those are Citrus fruits - you are really slowing things down.
Forget it - let’s do some poetry…
When he kisses,
he leaves his impress
and makes me writhe and twist.
We revel and carouse tirelessly,
appetites roar and seethe like lions,
until we lie prone like the dead.
I should have saved that for Halloween.
.
.
Songs for this:
Back to friends by Sobr
DAISIES by Justin Bieber
KISS by Demi Lovato
Dad, is this the will I once craved?
All your jewels you have sold,
On penury your will engraved,
A fortune no hands can hold.
Your will holds lies that I see through,
Nothing of worth it defines,
And your conscience never pricks you,
To waste heap your will consigns.
I wept you left me not a house,
Yet you built many, I know;
Not that I grumble or carouse,
But my spirit you laid low.
I thought I'd get more from your will,
For you died wealthy, you did,
Your writ reveals a barren till,
And leaves me all I forbid.
I am your only child alive,
Your legacy lies in vain,
The grave where your true wealth should thrive
Holds silence, loss, and disdain.
Perchance, this is but your feigned death,
Then spare me this cold meanness;
Grief I'll wrest from my labored breath,
Till truth is told with keenness.
the clock strikes dusk
the sun fades away
a thousand golden lights blinks
to set the scene on fire
crowds carouse
for the merry-go-round
that bright crown of the carnival night
under that picturesque parasol
children clamber up the golden saddles
atop alabaster rides
galloping through infinity
then drums snare with cymbals
while clarinets and woodwinds shriek
in jubilant symphony
laughter jingle
as the circle twirls
and the colourful world dissolve
to a colourless blur
The name pronounces in a Chinese mind
Sounds similar to onomatopoeia words made
When hearts felt phonologically bored
By a misthought on linguistically decaying
Or a loss of ordered hilarious carouse
Anyway, I have been quietly with it for years,
With countless eyesight over my shoulders
It is a famous existence contrasting to mine
A neighbor to whom needless to talk to
But we are a collective name to represent
For a belonging of the people living around
A lake of water that is so clean and quiet
We've been staying as such for years
Having a short meeting with each other
Such as young men and women on blind dates
Full filled with shyness, reluctance, and desires
but we are so different from them by degrees
Both of the acceptance and of the integration
Included with people by their homes and lands
By ways of simple, obvious, and unconditional
I stay with this lake alike the pines on shore
With the algae in water, the birds overhead
While fish swim, shrimp jumps, and jellyfish dance
All between us are inclusive and simple
They are obvious no need to be garrulous
For apprehension by persons used to flaunt
Forgive me
For I have sinned in my tenacity
to challenge you on the battlefield of morality.
Forgive me
For offending your duplicity
with my transparency.
Forgive me
While you carouse with your unquenchable lies
For I have sinned in uttering such prayerful reprise.
Forgive me
“Great One”, clothed in your honorable disguise
For I have sinned to not fall prey to your beguiles.
A strange woman
can turn you into
a deranged human
Lust not after her
She'll leave you to
just rot, heavy cost incur
Eye-grabbing, she will lure
Don't fall into her trap
Soul-stabbing she is, stay pure
With false vows, she entices
Be not seduced by her beauty
She'll waltz, carouse, all wayward vices
Stay away from her streets
Her house directs to death
Play, then prey - that's how she defeats
An amorous alliance with her
can steer straight to hell,
A dangerous dalliance with a sweet whisperer
A marionette to the mind,
Whispering fading schematics,
Deluging the heart and soul, in a
Juxtaposition of good and evil,
Betwixt Heaven and hell, amidst
Snowdrifts that swirl before my eyes, while
Spiritless shadows restlessly carouse;
Discordantly, far from reach,
Vagrantly ambling across
Deadened Arcadias, glimpsing
Floating embers, in wake of
Vivid firestorms, swallowing me whole,
Faltering with every step I take,
Decelerating towards the escape I seek,
As it rhythmically scars my timorous nature,
Awakening the monsters hidden deep within-seeing red-
Bleeding out miasmic toxins, as noxious
Spores erupt, immersed in a haze of austerity,
While it seeps and saturates, throughout
Malignant wounds exposed, undulating between
The storms of push and pull, as daunting
Tasks, of rippling sequences, splits my
Chasmic core.
Soulless footprints are all that remain, as
Moon tides wash ashore, ebbing away
Towards dystopian depths.
love long ago departed;
like persimmon buds; now, just
spring flowers ever parted
in afterglow of young lust.
Where pink flowers did carouse
soft, ripe red fruit heavy hangs
on cold winters empty boughs;
and so induce hunger pangs,
for sweet flesh yet untasted.
Judge me not when I merry and make lyric
Of the most obscene and unthought-of frolic
Tunes,
The wait has been worth for the dunes to form
To behold spectacular dorm moulded in perseverance
Hard work and endurance,
The monsoon withstood long enough to pave way
For the calmer and serene moonlight,
Casting its beams across the dilapidated and sun-baked
Land, on which stand round and about
Only remnants of the former glory abound
Standing still sans life, sans hope, sans all that astound.
Deep within the decomposing flora of the beautiful
Aura that adorned the sacred corroded land
Now an adage of the most told beatitude of the fallen
Beauty and unmatched wit
The distant echoes carouse, kicking disjointed limbs to rouse
To life, to till with the only worn remnant hoe
Into the diamond-hard foe
To conquer and restore the fallen glorious city
Crying in distress,
Calling out for resuscitate and attent
I'm going to fly,
and see Ireland,
The Emerald Isle,
My ticket's in hand.
Visit in a pub,
drink pints awhile.
Joke with the Locals,
carouse, laugh and smile.
Eat real Irish stew,
brown wheaten bread too.
Then go explore,
old castles of yore.
It's a must to make merry,
in walled London Derry.
All Through Halloween,
the Ghouls intervene.
Walk in fields of Heather,
A Musky purple scene.
Fragrance light as a feather,
Pristine and Serene.
Stay there at Galway,
for a few days.
Fish in the river,
or on the bay.
Have to see the Blarney,
and give it a big kiss.
Wish for some good luck,
but that's hit or miss.
I'm going to fly,
and see Ireland.
The Emerald Isle,
Spend time with Old Friend's.
spring bamboo windchimes
carouse gently in the breeze
~ damselfly finds mate
AP: 2nd place 2021, 3rd place 2021
Luminescent water dweller swirling svelte
Slick slid tranquil cuddles chocolate flanks
Languish in lake's fresh flow cleanses pelt
Inveigled green murk give mammal thanks
Flip of fish bodied bristle face fierce scent
Dispersing air bubble clusters break ranks
Astonished by spine kink accomplishment
Ransack gets snack refuel on sandy banks
Sharp fang archer snares mollusc, eloquent
Velvet lips emit wet grass verdant vibe knell
Frolicking gloss body, domain of free agent
Guarantees relief, feasted minuscule morsel
Rotary manuevres engrave prey unhindered
Dagger mouth rolls marble glassy carouse
Rouge show-off swims to coldest dominion
Flagrant tail track flicks a frigid drop douse
11th February
Behemoth of depths
Sub Categories
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