Domed Poems | Examples

Ova

The distant cold hum
of a refrigerated embryology.

Morning eggs arrayed
in their cartons,
domed power-plants
in laboratory-white.

I crack a shell open,
by cautious habit
check for any telltale spindrift of red,

a sign of incipient life
or the Sunnyside-up face of death.

Forgotten

Blue
Cotton
Wings dusting
The domed ceilings
Forgotten records in halls of the dead

Splintered Sunlight

Step into splintered sunlight
broken beams flash
across bare, silhouetted flesh.

Above
Father-Sun forever scintillates,
a deep and ancient ember,
giving ceaselessly to all
wanting nothing in return.

The trees, they dance
in verdant splendor,
leaning lazily, they sigh
with utter contentment.
Their leaves, a chorus
of flapping green,
each one moving to its own rhythm,
closely listening to the wind sing.

White stars illuminate my eyes
and echo through my soul.
Vibrations shudder down my spine,
utterly with rapture so
cosmic and cyclopean,
spinning through the wheel-vortex
of my open amethyst crown.

And with sweet natural bliss, at last,
under holy bodhi tree of life --
copper-domed and ancient,
grown hoary and sere
through countless millennia --
my buddha-mind will yet arise,
through the heavens,
past the skies,
and slowly gaze
with wisdom eyes
upon the all-expansive Whole.

This worldly plane is just a school,
a dream where all is mind.
Be present, aware, and most of all,
compassionate and kind.

For everything in this world is one,
the Universe is inside us.
If pure of heart, we seek our truth,
the Universe shall guide us

A Timeless Illusion

Entering a rustic, glass-domed Greenhouse,
I stepped into a timeless illusion.
Silence muted the scuttle of a mouse,
living in this synthetic seclusion.

Within a succulent juggle of green,
sweet scents emanate from every blossom.
One of the prettiest places I've been;
sensual, and visually awesome.

I explored that tropical paradise;
enthralled by the plants and exotic theme.
A one-time visit would never suffice;
my senses are swirling, it's like a dream.

This sanctuary from strife and trouble
is a rare getaway from life's regrets.
My fantasy garden in a bubble;
as far from reality as it gets.

Weeping Willow

The majestic weeping willow that grew in grandmother's backyard, was our secret place to drink tea, read books, and play cards.The bowing branches, so like a gentleman offering his hand, opened magically into this domed fairyland. Graciously accepting the invitation, we would climb... to hear the lazy buzzing bees and lose all sense of time. Hidden away, a sacred court between friends,I know I'll never feel as safe again.

All Of Us

a tomb
   you say
domed 
and grand
and cherubin
   temerity
a mass grave
of all of us
but 
who still
creeps around
upstairs

Closer To Fine

That was the time of my life when my search turned stern,
Like a thirsty beast, for streams of truth, I did yearn;
In search of saints and sages, I wandered and roamed,
Queries, like dark clouds of monsoon days, on me domed...!

Here it is, they said, Oh, no, it is over there,   
Like an insane, I searched for treasures everywhere;
False philosophies and theologies called me,
Though ran after each I could not find myself free...! 

Indian philosophy and western credo,
Divine doctrinaire or Freudian libido;
Science or medicine or poetry or art,
What had I not tried with sincerity of heart...? 

It's then when, ultimately, when I went within,
With my goodness and meanness and virtue and sin; 
Celestial scenes of existence I did behold,
As a grand finale, corpus-soul-core consoled...!!!

24 February 2023 
Closer to fine Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann

Tracery

Bejeweled, in and out of the Gothic architecture, 
Conceived by Abbot Suger, through a constant conjecture;
With perfect glasswork etched out of the then-time silica,
Found its place In Saint-Denis Cathedral Basilica...!

Modestly outsized splash-smeared gorgeous goblet casements, 
Renaissance classic styled stone accent wall sacred basements;
Prettily pointed piercing cumulative curly curves, 
Rib vaults great and small intertwining like the war of nerves...!

Soaring airborne ramparts; metaphysical adornments;
Perpendicular proportions; lopsided floral fronts;
Steady solemn designs that flounce upward in height and grace;
Domed arched ceilings that charms of times, ages, and eras embrace...!

With no shrinks and wrinkles like the perfection of pure youth, 
Enticing grand elegance like the fullness of the truth;
Tracery is a treasury of architectural forms,
Within which dwell, fine ethereal elemental norms...!!!


26 January 2023
TRACERY Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward

A Night In Paris

spires stretch heavenward in a twilight sky
crimson hues and nighttime blues do battle
as people lope lazily over a dusky bridge
like cattle with cameras;
snapping the domed limestone giant

below, boatmen skim across a shimmering mirror
reflecting fragmented moments
cast down from the world above
floating like flotsam; lifeblood
coursing through the city’s stone heart

amid those masses, we watched
the shadows grow steadily longer
and balls of soft lamplight glow gently brighter
until, suspended in the darkening air
they floated like no post was there

then, just like that -
the city shrugged off day’s last light
wrapping herself in the mysteries of night
where amorous wishes and twisting seine scenes
led to candlelit kisses and solitaire dreams

Escape To Beauty

I
Excellence in service, equalities
In society: access to every utility
Makes men and me dependent
Until depending on undependables
Makes us meek, mad or uncivilized
But for those accidental attractions

II
Like stars at night, without man's light
Beautiful, delicious darkness
Sets off the diamonds in domed Crown
Sliver of a moon makes memories
Old and new about the heaven, universe
Thank you South Africa (Eskom) for failures
Your corrupt business model takes us back
(to beauty as God meant it for we to see)

St Petersberg In Winter

Frozed up; but unappealing
To no eye, waited to be
Becharmed; bewitched! See!
Through this fame in snow's feature.
Holy, high-domed; the east o'er
Exalted more'oer.

Celestial Soda Pop

Time and tides flowing through my tan, bare toes.
    Twas a time of sweet peace, flowering boughs.
    Spices of love, filled scarlet sunset nights.
    Limitless dreams waltzed in our heads with might.
    Sundays, love for God, from our fingers glowed.
    Snow or heat, we were in Church, faith flowed.
    Soft, Latin words, songs in Gregorian.
    Time travel, in utter peace, to live in.
    Under domed ceilings of bright white and gold.
    The incense, the songs, which never grow old!




                       4/11/2021
                          ~1~

Dainty Damselfly

Such beauty and so full of life,
she's flitting to and fro,
from plant to plant to find best perch
and put herself on show.

Sprawling in the midday sun
she is a splendid sight.
Her slender abdomen dressed in
metallic blue so bright.

Her wings are thin fragile fabric,
fine lace she must protect.
Her huge domed eyes focussed and keen
search around to locate

the fittest males upon the scene.
There's one with flying skill.
He plays the game of hide and seek.
Now, she joins in the thrill.

They fly off to the undergrowth.
In heartwheel there they play.
Now all her eggs become fertile.
A batch of them she lay

and after some minutes of rest
she starts another game,
but this time with different male.
This lady has no shame.

Gentleman Muffin

Gentleman muffin wearing monocle
My mustache never been out of fashion
Never thought bringing out my chronicle
Jockeyed searching my perfect companion

I dreamed becoming morning glory muffins
Howbeit fate is in the hands of the baker
Throws old ingredients, I’m huffing and puffing
Bread maker made me sweeter, ampler power

Window dresser puts me on display case
A lonely bun lying in wooden racks
A glace domed cake, no one blowing my face
With nightfall comes, only got aching back

Can I still witness my dawning rapture?
With people lining up to shoot my picture

16 September 2020
(Sonnet - personification poem)

St Paul's Cathedral

A solitary wren perches on a perfect arch
And warbles a pitiful tune 
A domed silhouette is cast against the moon
The faded cerulean crown

Pillar upon pillar, arch upon arch
Magnolia marbled magnificence resides amongst concrete 
But where history and metropolis meet
St Paul's stands tall

The Whispering Gallery conspires your name
In such a harmonious chorus 
Oil upon canvas and Renaissance clay
St Paul's stands another day

Great Tom shines in solitude 
Concealed in your embrace 
Melancholic chimes reign proudly over London 
Admiration and pride etched onto your face.

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