Feeling Secured
when I feel you around
Feeling healed
with your blessings abound
Feeling dolesome
while seeing your empty cot
Feeling wholesome
for the grace we have got
Happiness, sadness, madness and what not
Feelings for you will always remain
As your memories whirl forever in our mind
Thinking of you
Every now and then
Thinking like you
While confronting blues
Writing for you
As you like my scribblings
Writing about you
As I found solace in those writings
When I couldn't share my happiness with you
When I couldn't share what it feels like
All I do is write about it
And I know you will read it and beam
When I don't grab right words to vent my thoughts
Whenever I experience writer's block
I close my eyes and think about you
Like a saviour you arrive and trapped words you unlock
Your never ending love for writing and reading
Like the perfume
unfurled from our garden flowers... it's spreading
Now, I promise you that I will read
and keep on writing
through all the changing scenes of my life
As I could feel your aura beside me whenever I sit to write
That way, I will be with you always
he said, "I am an ordinary stone" ~
in one nocturnal rendezvous
and vanished in sky's tenebrosity
before her hands could reach
to embrace him ~
a gentle gypsy wind
dulcified her dolesome heart
and set her to slumber
a shooting star arrowed
in elegiac ebony evening~
and as she opened her eyes
she found a stone that dazzled
midst the darkest night behind her
10 May 2022
A Brian Srrand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
8th Place
She walks barefooted in spiny shore
as dusk descends to snatch her heart;
Bloody feet turn curling foams
into hot crimson red~
melting her footprints
and her wild dreams
into smoke
that kills
her.
She
dances
with the moon
as the tide dries;
Her dolesome heart hails
on nocturnal murmurs
echoing from northern lights
as seabirds return to their nests;
She jumps in and succumbs to the sea.
14 June 2021
All Yours (June 14) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
1st place
WHEN STATURE IS A FORM OF GRACE
Red hair,
skin sweet apple,
Her face like a geisha
quiet yet armed with falcon eyes
You'll see.
His nose:
sharp like a knife.
Alone, she has no friend,
was this the way she's meant to be
shadowed?
Lonely
with hurt anew
she sighs deep like furnace
with only a dolesome ballad
to sing.
For she
was different,
demure in every way,
stature becomes a form of grace
within.
She chafe
folks that bore her,
their slanderous tongues.
Have they no grace nor some respect
to care?
Actions
where life pulsates
demands each to play roles
yet still, when silence roars, hear
echoes.
Truth ~ lies
all mixed in one,
baffling the people,
leading the narrow minds astray,
wonky!
__________________________________________________
Inspired by: Theater by Mary Cassatte 1879
__Olive Eloisa D. Guillermo__
4:26 pm, January 19, 2015
Clouds hover over fealty's
splendored domain
Grey patches our devolving
relationship stain
Dark shadows of doubt stride our
weather vane
Jading wind of indifference; eerie,
dolesome refrain
Thunderous echo of despair from
distant, careening train
Lightening's serrated edges strike
our exposed terrain
Duplicitous motives weathered bond
doth strain
Torrential outbursts cannot all the
opprobrium drain
Icy pellets laced with malice
bombard each, desolate plain
Soaked psyches now bleached with
residual disdain
From all rational discourse spent
minds abstain
Penitent tears cannot cleanse the
mildewed brain
Flooded tributaries flowing from
fidelity's bulging vein
Eroding the final links of fealty's,
tenuous chain
Quintain of: sorrow, despair, agony, misery, lament scoring
pain
Dolesome drum o'er jaded psyche taps a dark, palling
refrain
Hamstrung harp bridled soul with dissonant chords
enchain
Shrill flute a dreary, eerie melody wafts o'er drifting
swain
Melancholy tenor of wailing violin doth all availing hope
drain
Azure panels fade; shed golden mane
Black, celestial portents mail links chain
Windows of heaven shaded darker strain
Foggy panes availing beams do disdain
Billowing, gray folds gilded tapestry doth stain
Burgeoning spouts brackish bile to drain
Reverberating drums strike dolesome refrain
Streaking bolts o'er tumult wax then wane
An eerie whistle howls announcing the careening train
Encroaching night's slumber christened by shadowy blight
An endless fringe of melancholy shutters availing light
A cloudy fondue spills over the eery slight
A cold, transient wind doth the conscious plateau spite
Sliding from the precipice of awareness on ethereal kite
Descending into a listless valley; a barren, lonely respite
Slipping, the cranial cavity shakes with trembling fright
Each, guttural rivulet damming; the hydraulic ducts close tight
A silent echo doth a dolesome requiem incite
Anon, a rumbling tremor doth the last sound waves ignite
Then into the foggy abyss, truant soul takes flight
Leaving stilled-life form with no keen insight
Left rotting on the doting canvas floor waiting for nature to requite
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