Coalescing Poems

A COLD WINTERs STEAMY

The staticky-stars climax under intense blanket of Winter glow.
Your spouse can’t see your spirited green eyes that burn slow.

The friction of campfire sticks, the satiny slipperiness of moon.
Flames of blue, orange and red won’t be overcome too soon.

Pert rose petals, that once were goosebumpy and ice cold,
scintillate like fireworks until the grand finale’s loosed, uncontrolled.

Warm breath in a cold Winter’s steamy and a restless beast.
Lips lavish over late night feast, matches singe, sate increased.

Squirming under the leisurely complement of coals, coalescing,
Coolness of a blue lake vaingloriously countering, distressing.

A long midnight’s thrashing, sans pillory; the high beams foray.
Pillow talk, a sensuous squeeze, a high-diving elixir bouquet.

Ah those stars brilliantly glowing on a long Winter’s night!
Those limbs blush, rose petals crush, with unfettered light.

The Cycle 1: Proto

Dark Matters burn; a new age will beckon
Ancient plans turn; with creaking tendons
providence a blight, hidden in questions.
Made of the aether; not of the heavens.

Coalescing tangles and connections makes.
Spinning an eon; the darkness breaks
Shadows cast in the gleaming wakes.
Gravity pulls into endless space.

Eruptive remnants of eons past
a common core of bonded ash
come together to form, at last,
a brand new cycle from circling gas.

The Dream Broker

Treasury of candles
imagined reawakening the exemplars who campaigns
their coalescing.

Prayer resurrecting
unkept promises that fault mistiness veils of affections 
deeply confessed.

Sweetly progressed
a sinless tinkering of ifs and or buts, realizing an
overdue quietus.

Deja vu changes us,
with sweeping preparations from make-ups to do-overs and cuts to
that's a wrap.

Formats gap
of not to be awry and to prefer an alternate perspective as the
dreamer awakes.

Ducks and drakes
in the ability for the agile to skim and glide the distance o'er the calm and become a
better person.

Go-getter version
had manifested itself as what should have been astir than wallowing in a
festering hole.

Measuring goal
as proclivities satisfy a wandering wonder discerning remote hopes dwelt in the sun's
resplendent beacon.

Transcendent reason
a Q & A session obliging the past and the present on a road less traveled amidst
outright amnesty.

Torchlight family,
emblem of enlightenment and hope for generations--encores,
Messiah of Handel's.

Testament of Love

She was gazing at the immaculate beauty
A sunset melting golddrops in the horizon.
A combustion of pink and purple in dusk  
igniting a ruby fire in the twilight canvas.
He was gazing into her beautiful eyes,  
brownish blue, infusing a calm comfort.
A pastel sky in shades of soft fuchsia,
coalescing a marmalade with mauve.

Ribbons of colors drizzled honey,
idyllic moments enveloped in love.
lingering sunrays outlined a dream,
cicadas sang in blue background.
They wished the sun would never end
looking for a shelter in night's doorway.
But the sun must set to rise elsewhere,
this testament of love, only once a day.

The Mythical River Beast

I watched it emerge
from out of the fog, monumental
in size, a sheer cliff face of steel 
moving pass me, almost
quieter than my breath 
but for a whispered wake
running from its bow.
Something this big
should have made 
more noise.

A black hull bore scars 
of scrapings and rust bleeding out
of fissures along its length.
The fog seemed to oil its way,
its shape looming large
then slowly growing smaller 
as it slid down river until
it dimmed and disappeared.

In that moment its passage
was a mystery, a brief apparition
of something beyond the dimension 
of ordinary things. The quiet
of its passing, the dark bulk 
and beauty of its presence
was magnificent 
and overpowering.
It was like a shadow cast 
by a mythical beast
coalescing out of history,
infiltrating the mind then
dissolving once more
into a place somewhere
hidden in its magical past,
suddenly brought back
to this world 
with its registered port
written in rusty lettering
on its stern - MONROVIA

Morning

Breaking golden dew on green,
As waking notes the red one sings,
Afore furled colors grasping rays,
Breathing new in coalescing sway,
Eyes wet to sweet and shine,
Shadows wane a hushed resign,
Warmth entices open yearning faces,
On flushed plains with prickly graces,
High blue reminiscent a rite before,
Clean brightness on a dusty shore....

Like a Chocolate Crust Raspberry Pie

like a chocolate crust pie
is the flat-topped ridge
of a nearby large mountain

Topping mountain pie
as far as the eye can see . . .
luscious raspberry pink sky

high white coalescing clouds
trim the twilight’s slice of sky . . .
dollops of whipped cream

Dec. 12,2022
For the Triple New Charlieku Poetry Contest of Charles Messina
7/5/7, 5/7/7,  7/7/5 (checked by Howmanysyllables.com)

Falling

Like water falling over a crest
A swift rapid descent into a black hole
The paradox known as my life

Disguised as a pseudonym plunging
Ever deeper into a swirling
Of emotions into depths unknown

Cascading over cliffs at ever greater speed
Feeling out of control
Coalescing into a bottomless pit

The sheerness of the sides
Ever sharper the deeper I fall
Leaving no way out

Holding my breath
For the inevitable free fall
Into a chasm of darkness

Is this my destiny or fate
Or just another nightmare among many
That I will endure

Until...

Andreas Simic©

Entropy

A feeling escapes, as night coalescing winter. 
A cancerous sorrow innate. 
A Familiar, a servant of Sinners.
Faithlessness, neglecting to find  eternity.

Here she moves along deepened.
Apathy.
Nothingness wraiths, as shadow yet fallen.
Runic signs which carry her lost in 
their audacity gape, 
a scent of the air of the windward lost. 
Sovereignty.
Sunken away from her before final retreat; 
as dusk puppeteers the vein 
of crimson through dark wings.
Limbo-Purgatory.
Where misdirection 
hast stolen something dear.
Apparitions in the key of-part played in 
partitioning scenes of anti-harmony scale.
Ever Veer.
The chorus, a stale vape of memory- 
sneaking suppressed peak upon weight baring stare. 
Always near.
Vengeance borne, upon scornful element, 
of negative waves unseen.
Hope, is as well dashed to pieces 
by all your trusts' in black mirrors' farewell.

I hope you have reason to steer
clear, of that bottomless well.

Gummy Snakes

Dozing, I swoop on dream smoke miasma curls, 
a nuptial swarm of words streaming in flight.
I snare them in the air like insects
caught by swifts and swallows
soaring, darting and swirling aloft.
These words exude as spurts 
from a cauldron of mumbling ooze,
while a lie slumbering, half-and-half awake, 
eyes closed, drowsy.
Like misty droplets, 
these wayward, homeless, lost and lonely words
alight on leaves of contemplation,
coalescing to form rivulet snakes
teeming with meaning
streaming like tears into consciousness.
These gummy snakes are a mixed lot of all-sorts.
Some are deep, fecund and profound.
Others are silly, shifty and shallow.
On gossamer wings, on maiden flights, 
like swifts and swallows
they flip and flutter,
soar and swirl,
begging to be caught flying.

Creative Process

Creative Process

Artists  CREATE  a sense of distance
By     fading colors        to purples,
Or                         geometrically
Drawing far things smaller -
One-point    perspective:
When lines converge,
Vanishing
To a
.
Big bang!?
CREATION!?
Spon--tan--e--ous
Matter       projecting
Outward from just one point
Rotating,           then coalescing
Into           numberless           galaxies
Of stars, planets; in some cases………..LIFE!

Swan Lake Doom Dance

In the midst of myself I see all a named through a blame of crystal ball garbage self imposed heaps of anarchic monumental fever itches slowly coalescing compost inflaming frolicking one step beyond destitute drowned drained primal ascents like muted strands of character counts contents--a sugary benign bene-violence renewed every 4th year by death trite trickery, bumming freedoms long necked, sticky fingered bullet borrowed Bogart abandoners like cool coup indifferentials-----hangless gyrations coordinated catastrophizes counter culture aberrations seeming short changed a dimes worth of democracy voices foot and mouth disease we move through dead brain catheters dreaming of cellular open ranges of slack composures minus politico contractual ill tongued bilateral lobotomy laden binormals laying waste to unsecured raptures---dicey yet decidedly temporary but elipticaliplapsing any Gods forgiving truth and moral divergence by appetite arbitration. Hence a gamely time of fecal folly foot loose and fancy toe tag free---------all's well that entrails well.

I Hold You In My Heart

I love you at a distance–
hoping you realize what 
you are worth to me.

I know it is hard to see that,
when my words fail me 
in your presence,
and when my mind 
rumbles against me,
speaking untruths that
shake my inner world. 

Under the coalescing clouds,
in the comforts of solitude,
I witness your successes–
I see you like the morning light,
and I hold nothing but warmth 
when memories of you 
pass right through
into dangerous dusks
and maleific midnights. 

I do not expect you to know 
how high I hold you in my heart,
even when I fail to walk 
by your side.

Al-Zahra

Muhammad’s daughter danced through the night,
skirts smoothly swirling with her moving.
Cool colors coalescing under moonlight,
iridescent eyes sweetly soothing.

Many who sought her had pedigree.
All whom Prophet Muhammad rebuked
awaiting sign of her destiny,
silent suitor of proper repute.

Ali sold his shield to pay the mahr.
She danced her way into history.
She earned her place, proved the Shining Star,
in doing so, fated her family.

Muhammad’s daughter danced through the night,
skirts smoothly swirling with her moving.
Cool colors coalescing under moonlight,
iridescent eyes sweetly soothing.

Allahu Akbar.

Children

Children
by Michael R. Burch

There was a moment
suspended in time like a swelling drop of dew about to fall,
impendent, pregnant with possibility ...

when we might have made ...
anything,
             anything we dreamed,
                                             almost anything at all,
coalescing dreams into reality.

Oh, the love we might have fashioned
out of a fine mist and the nightly sparkle of the cosmos
and the rhythms of evening!

But we were young,
and what might have been is now a dark abyss of loss
and what we have left is not worth saving.

But, oh, you were lovely,
child of the wild moonlight, attendant tides and doting stars,
and for a day ...

what little we partook
of all that lay before us seemed so much,
                    and passion but a force
with which to play.

Keywords/Tags: child, children, childhood, time, possibility, potential, dream, dreams, love, passion, play, force, mist, fog, sparkle, cosmos, moonlight, tides, stars, desire, longing

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