Gleam in the mirror acts like it’s running some bright scheme,
stream of thoughts tell me I’m not as mysterious as I seem;
Twirl the frame and watch my reflection start to whirl,
furl a knowing grin, amused I’m trying to look like a serious girl.
Glows from the glass suggests it’s wiser than I know,
shows me practicing pep-talks I perfected ages ago;
Slide into view and see my mirror-self politely hide,
wide grows a teasing grin, “Nice effort,” with pride.
The copious serpents bedded the wolves and the sheepish grins so too unfolded the poker table is lit tonight, stripped table legs that oaken tonight, so left from the gambler were his life savings like Vegas unmatched the true course of daisies, and so darker hell-bent marble furl and regain consciousness so that we may too see the world.
The scarlet art of the sapphire sky of my halcyon heart
sparkled with sequined glow of the lone moon leaning low.
I tried tempted to touch your topaz sheen tinted unseen,
but you didn’t stay, slowly sauntered away out of my view
from my silky sky I shaped for you with pure joy for sure.
From the dark domain of dismantled dainty rainbow arc
strong storm surged with snapped shards of slashing scorn,
shattered my sublime sky while stowing in dispersed debris pile.
I couldn’t foresee how to dredge the drowned dreams free
from deep despair before destined day to depart came my way.
I shoved the splinters of my shattered soul on the sly,
turned them into a single white rose, residing in my heart close.
When on the run you returned to my garden under sensual sun
its fragrance fine floated with the pure passion of mine divine.
When in your sweet smile the curl of its pristine petals I saw un-furl
I knew the onset spark of the new beginning it’d memorably mark.
Squirrels like toasted treats.
It makes them quite happy.
You won't hear them complain.
Just munching right away.
With twirls!
Swirls too!
Those girls!
Pearls true.
Tails a furl.
White clouds furl into the day
A veil o'er the celeste sky
Where Christ is taken away
Our heavenly home draws nigh
Pro life chop shops
sanctity botched
chain your baby makers
inspect your baby’s crotch
laws ban
lives hang
hangers wrought and bought
the worst of how we’re natured
belts
you’re just another notch
fit in
or sin
resisting a rest
existing erased
pop up chop shops
for furl of brow and fraught
the worst of how we’re natured
belts
you’re just another notch
Composed for Emo-Music Inspired Poems
Poetry Contest by B.J. Fitz
Memories flutter like Post-It notes,
with scribbles faint and worn.
Reminders fade in the winds they’ve made,
my pages are tattered and torn.
Notes twist and swirl, then dip and curl,
in a wild and frantic breeze.
A cyclone spins where thoughts have been,
scattering all my memories.
Papers alight and suddenly take flight,
spinning frantically far and near.
But the harder I try, the stronger they fly,
increasingly more unclear.
I feel bold and reach to hold—
but my notes slip further away.
And piece by piece, I lose my peace,
as my library fades to gray.
The scattered scraps come fluttering back,
then flicker, furl, and flee.
A swift retreat, my memories fleet,
I’m not who I used to be.
An unraveling mind, fading line by line,
my life in vanishing ink.
Clinging to time and what’s left of my mind,
my sanity is on the brink.
But the yellow storm still rages on,
the cruel winds blow with might,
And time will steal all that was real,
‘til there’s nothing left but night.
-Edward
Like her folks
She smokes
Rough shirts
On Jean skirts
Though a chiller
She looks a killer
Her mushroom-cat
Is half-eaten by a rat
No mosquito hurts her
In her presence I'm in stir
Why this sadness on her face?
Did she fail in any competition race?
Do not be worried, O, my strong little girl.
Don’t leaves and flowers in winter wind furl?
She was just so darn spiritual, was not of this world
Like a whispered mist before you, she would un-furl
Rendering you into a such a non-conscionable state
“Till you were onto her level where you could relate
Captured yet strange not once held with any chains
Once in your thoughts your attention she entertains
Loosening emotions, that before were never notions
Releasing within you, so, heart rendering explosions
To a lesser man, she would be considered as brazen
But to her, within, she holds no such, discrimination
The freedom she gives leaves thoughts so unbridled
One becomes brave, and to her ego feels so entitled
As she believes a mind trapped should only be freed
No need to others to bow down no need to concede
When notions within you, those yet to be conceived
Ready now to be understood knowledge is achieved
One may die trying, but till then one has never lived
A real concept of life and what it’s like to be bridged
Bent askew, with shadow straight as a die
reflecting my every move and mood
I dwelt upon the hidden grace of being bent.
For curved things are strangely stronger
than straight things, so rare in nature.
So prone to shatter to pick-up-sticks, straight bits
when compliant and inflexible.
Fearing the wind will turn you into a statue
if you flap, furl, curl and yield to change,
and take a backward step, arching back,
away from the straightforward.
Diamond due droplets
Adorn fresh flowers
Calm comely comets
Flowers nectar filled
Sway in Zen Zephyr
Petals curl furl frilled
Zen Zephyr scent wafts
Tempt the tender buds
Taunt the tough thriftlofts
Tender buds spread smiles
Unleash aroma
Swath in sublime styles
Aroma outspread
Soothes the ambiance
Euphoric moods wed
Ambiance gorgeous
Creaturely chorus
16 May 2023
TAKE A CHANCE ON A CHANSO Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kim Rodrigues
Rhymes Checked At: Rhyme Zone
Syllables Checked At: How Many Syllables
It's straight, I think, and gladly start,
Faith and hope and trust fill my heart;
Flora and fauna and fields fresh,
Climbers and creepers crawl enmesh...!
Trails with bushes and choke and block,
I twist and turn and thwack the lock;
Hills and vales and mountain- cliffs curl,
Way unto way many ways furl...!
Dogs and cats are part of the way,
Could cattle and hogs keep away;
Mild and wild are beasts of jungles,
Seem perplexed as though in bungles...!
Men and women rich and poor join,
Good and bad seem sides of same coin;
Yet, when Jesus says: I'm the way,
Who will, with him, succeed to stay...?
24 April 2023
WHERE I AM FREE
My freedom lies beyond
the cloud of unknowingness
beyond mists of time where
I disappear into olive groves
which furl and unfurl in slow dawns
Here there are no gates
latches or rusty keys
nobody entices with tickets
to a show and gala gifts
dark chocolate or apple orchards
Where I am free translucent dragonflies
and red quilts are escaping memories
rooms filled with roses and ferns
or silky scarves do not exist
promises evaporate as steam
Desires for dancing legs
warm marrow, wet kisses or
tears, scars are packaged
like data bits with grapevines
Angels appear only to take a peep
Where I am free I do not exist
There dwells what you seek
and what you seek is an
illusion of Light which lives then
dies in milliseconds of ecstasy
To touch it is to orchestrate
melodies as a harmony of
unknown instruments to
convey Creation’s glances
Not all can come
where I am free !
GhairoDanielsPoetry2014
fallen flowers furl
leaf paintings fill the weather ---
perplexed butterflies
11 September 2022
Autumn in Nature - Haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
PS Syllable Counter Used
What’s in a name? that which we call a rose
By Any Other Name would smell as sweet
Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare
ROSE CAPULET
Put aside the rose by any other name, the dozen scent
of lover’s potent petals, exacting thorns that pierce the skin.
His soulmate’s countenance - like baby’s breath and intent.
Her pink pinched cheeks, soft as velvet, a bright budding win.
The lovely romance of Capulet adorned with thrilling furl.
Sweetness permeates from Shakespeare’s intervening,
phrase caught betwixt the feuding, an idyllic poetic pearl.
Cruel cessation of fluttering heartbeats - unforeseen things.
Juliet’s petals still - like Aurora’s lips longed to be kissed.*
Her Romeo clueless to her pretense downs caustic curse.
His rapturous love awakens — wan rose can only coexist
in the arms of death. Dagger turns rose red in abiding verse.
11/14/2021
Robert Liguori’s Rose Contest
*Aurora was the name of the fairytale’s Sleeping Beauty who was awakened by her prince with a kiss. Juliet was in a temporary coma
but Romeo never received her explanation letter.
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.