CONTENTMENT CORRIDOR-:-
extant
sensitivity
navigator
convoluted
contours
of SCRAMBLED DREAMS
mindscape
ambiguity
sculpted
anonymity
enshrined
in THE LAST MILEPOST
reflective
remembrance
expectant
perpetuity
virtual
As we go through life we open door after door
No matter what they reveal we keep wanting more
Some doors fill us with happiness down to our core
Some doors can cause pain and knock us flat on the floor
Until they're open we never know what's in store
Yet we keep going through cause we're all keeping score
Some doors make us rich some doors leave us poor
Sometimes they even leave us hurt broken and tore
So be careful as you go through life's corridor
though not much light
your Begonia corridor
we did much relish
Unnoticed he all went then,
A rare case for my eyes unsent.
Unaware I walked through the corridor's ment ,
Not knowing someone's glorious sparkles were on me Amen.
Heard his shoes calling loud ,
But it was too intimidating to look around.
Resisted in every way's crowd,
Turned around immediately as I was bound.
Okay , yes our eyes met,
With a rather delusional way .
I looked away as I was all set,
With an unexplainable feeling called love they say....
Lily blooms in spring , a design of creator, fragrance to garden
Lilies have sweet smell Flame lily has found in moor, an endangered plant.
Lilies have vase life,
two weeks in my corridor They look fabulous
It was in Historic Forcados,
Where I’d first touched Pride of Barbados:
I’d run into A Talking Salvador
Long arguing with Unshaken Ricardo,
Whose interest were in Stark Bravado,
His body partly building with Mamador …
Bravado-Loving and Preaching Ricardo
Would sooner he became A Matador
Than A-Many-Times-Decorated Commodore,
This proclaiming in a corridor,
Where on display, besides Mamador,
Were nourishing-seeming tomato
And as nourishing-seeming pimento.
“If you were a Commodore
For all your sung bravado,
You wouldn’t last with A True Bull!
Even energized and you were full!
You wouldn’t assert you had The Beast won
Between A healthy and Sickly one …”
A Commodore’s strength is his ship
Plus the holstered pistol on his hip,
No frightening neck muscle sticking out
When chooses he to ‘MARINERS!’ shout.
If this world is but a corridor to the next
Then Heaven is surely all twitter and text
Lustrous laureled leaves in autumn silently reap,
Brown bland blisters of trampled grey soil in bay,
Glorious golden glee blankets my dreams in sleep.
Withered warm whispers in wet pastures seep,
Midway merging November winds to Winter neigh,
Lustrous laureled leaves in autumn silently reap.
Thousand tattered treasures revive slumber deep,
Calm crispy corridor covers secrets on the way,
Glorious golden glee blankets my dreams in sleep
Silver sumptuous snow solaces them who weep,
Intense iridescent incarnations of life each day,
Lustrous laureled leaves in autumn silently reap.
Wonderful white wisps wake desires, oh they leap,
Emerged effervescent existence born to fly away,
Glorious golden glee blankets my dreams in sleep.
Magnificent miraculous moments I joyously keep,
Frosty ferocious fears, fervent furling hopes sleigh,
Lustrous laureled leaves in autumn silently reap,
Glorious golden glee blankets my dreams in sleep.
June 21, 2020
Month of the year I like most Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mohan Chutani
~Premiere Contest Winner: 5th Place
the scent of lavender on the dew
through cascading rolling mountains of joy
surface through the moon in the tender month of June
we have been this way before
alone
footsteps in the corridor
out on the patio a black cat
the smell of fresh paint permeates my inner senses
faces
traces of lime in my beer
a rip torn onto its heightened view
shadows block the vortex of the eye
shaped through the dreams in her hair my pretty child
choose the day
the night was far spent in calamity
Lilacs
In the parks
Cruelly crushed
Killing the pink buds
Eliminating the poetry
Torturing hands rejoicing
Yellow yelling in the panick
Some poets say
Power flowering in
Lickety split in the corridor
In all the starlit lakes and ponds
Totter the tube roses at the capitalist glare
_______________________________________________
April 12, 2018
Lickety Split - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Debbie Guzzi
Fragrance from your flute
Wafting in the air
Powder of morning in your hair
Robins in their throat
In your smile clouds float
Here and there
Golden alphabets stare
The river flows on
Sprinkled sun melts in water
Inflammation grows in laughter
Rush roar race reel recur
Empty boats wait for life
Stories seek a soft chapter
Your shadows grow longer
Polka dots on your blue shades
Tiny airy footfalls on grass blades
Pleasure returns in white sails
Boats are astir in water
Ripples and jingles join them
In the spread of the blue jays’ wing
A blue and white game
Sinking sun sprinkles softened sparkles
Dream like little orange splashes
Infinity in your eyelashes
Gradually unfolds the time of musk
Whether in shacks or in palaces
Whether in love or in malice
Sometimes a full moon
Sometimes a dark lagoon
Somewhere the stories in a glowworm fire
Somewhere in a sparkling dagger
Until the eyelids are heavy in the weary night
Descending into the cleansing dark
For another daylight
________________________________________
15/02/2017
I made a journey through the crowded corridor,
And saw the lions and other wild beast wrestling
The place was thickly, slicking with human most important tissues
The crowded corridor was roaring and scary
Wrestling, oh! Wrestling among the big and mighty beasts
I made a journey through another crowded corridor, I discovered the colony of fish and shark things were different
Then I inquire of self, why should my colony be dark and scary
I know wrestling among folks is important, but it shouldn’t be this devouring
There is wrestling, oh! Wrestling in the crowded filed
Dedicated to my country
Confidently
The door swings open, to the furthest reach of its hinges
Air set alight by her presence, the crowd is drawn
Swinging her arms without a care, they are boundless
With steps that echo, evidently faultless and proud
Cutting swiftly through the waves, the masses part instinctively
The vague war cry dominates, even when it doesn't connect
Refusing to settle, for any lesser impact
For she will march triumphantly, through the shackled masks
Comparable to puppets, they are but ghosts in a machine
Hesitantly
The hinges part way, as the door creeps into the room
Conforming to the heard, with a silence that shall not falter
Arms rigid and cutting through the air, he is curbed and confined
With a muted pigeon's step, evidently nervy and fitful
Hit by the torrent, subjected to an eternity of abrasion
Voices resonate and surround, but this one stays muted
Venomous and yet withdrawn, he refrains from making an impact
For he will trudge regrettably, through the unending exchange
Comparable to puppeteers, the others seem confident and free
Throughout my lifetime I have opened
many doors; doors within a corridor
with no end.I open a door only for another
to appear before me.
A sage once told me that when I detach myself
from bodily desires, the doors would cease to appear....
Date: 18/06/2015
It seemed like a
easy task
but now
I am all alone
in a endless corridor
searching for a light
to alleviate me from
the suppressing dark
I notice a gleam in the distance
but whenever I pursue it
A thin wall separates me
then the shimmer vanished from
sight and i remain lost trying
to find my divine path
I can no longer endure
the pressure of this cycle
I cant see the end
If only there was a way
to find my life’s work
without wasting another day
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.