Shadow mountain peak,
puzzle one can’t fathom,
it’s that upward sweep,
at sunrise, sunset,
quaint sawtooth features,
they induce dark zeal,
methinks a fable,
obscure tightly lodged,
in each skyward step,
novel within grasp,
cryptic stone phrase etch,
moss whirl stream rim,
lofty lambent odes sculpt,
in mound of twilight,
enshrouded wry blur,
vast hunch ascendant,
edgy climber gumption yet,
settles for lax gaze,
syblline boundless bard,
red cloud piercing tower,
a distant writer’s thirst
Shadow mountain peak,
one somehow can’t quite fathom,
it’s that upward sweep
at sunrise, sunset,
quaint jagged features protrude,
they induce dark mirth
methinks a fable,
inscrutable, tightly lodged,
in each skyward step
novel within grasp,
phrases etched in mystic stone,
rimmed by moss whirl stream
lofty, lambent odes,
I sculpt in mound of twilight,
enshrouded wry blur
vast hunch ascendant,
edgy climber gumption yet,
settles for lax gaze
syblline boundless bard,
that red cloud piercing tower,
a remote verse whim
A life unto of ebb & flow
The Masters seated down below
Or high above
I cannot tell
Heaven may beholden hell
My heart cries out
but I think I died
It doesn’t pound that it did before
For where I am, I am not to sure
I did not bleed, I did not scorn
Where did this rath come forlorn
I thought I’d paved the way to free
Yet here I am, alone -
I cannot sea
Except a fair few off light that dwindles
I’m thwarted & it pains me so
To just feel pain and so much woe
I cannot sea
Am I on a boat, Am I on a yacht
These memories that not be forgot
I think I know what’s happening here
It is my turn to take the steer
I never wanted it this way
But now I’m steering all the way
Until the next one, next from me
Beholds from not is from the sea
That dwindling light, passage unclear
The ebb & flow is so near
It may be your time soon to come
That pounding heart that is now done
I cannot sea
Can you see?
What should I write about, so many topics to choose from
Ideas flowing through my mind with a lot more to come
A poem I would describe it as an imagination of emotions
To be successful at writing poetry takes a lot of devotion
To produce a great poem I need to pick a topic that truly
inspires me
Unleashing a cavalcade of words so fancy and free
To capture an audience I need to grab their attention
Create a visual experience to stimulate the senses
If I can bring a smile to a face with the words I portray
Or perhaps something so intriguing that it makes their day
In the end, nothing is more powerful than words put together to stimulate the mind
A poem that intrigues you I hope you can find
when I research I sometimes stumble upon
interesting facts that intrigue me, that delight me
children of identical twins, their babies, their spawn
are genetically half-siblings;, this is how it can be….
their parent derived from one single DNA egg
that split into two people, fresh break, all frayed
intriguing if you are indeed an identical twin
which I am, so this fact was definitely a great big win
It was all just an performance, an act.
A scene in an interesting play.
There was a intriguing actor,
performing on stage that day.
One hell of a great performance.
Excitement, on the edge of my seat.
Butterflies in the stomach,
I think my heart skipped a beat.
He stumbled on not a word.
Perfectly spoke every scripted line.
He must have performed in this
play before.
Maybe even many times.
His humorous side fit perfect too.
Laughter became an amplifier.
You could not miss a single minute,
Every second of the throbbing desire.
A perfectly executed seduction,
Charismatic charm demonstrated.
He you completely memorized.
Left you feeling intoxicated.
The surprise unexpected twist,
shocked you at the end of the play.
It was a wolf in sheep's clothing, not an actor.
who's performance was flawless that day!
love is intriguing and captivating and arousing ~ as is hate
I reflect on what you look like now!
You were beauteous when I saw you last.
What precious gifts did time endow?
All those years of tranquil absence
As you slumbered away the time somehow.
I wonder if your eyes remain bright,
They always looked at me kindly.
I think that, if you're at home tonight,
I could give you a call ~ perhaps...
Or should I just simply write?
I expect that you smile as you always could;
Intriguing, enchanting, and toasty warm.
But you smiled for me today ~ I knew you would
(In any case I've misplaced your number).
I must be more careful ~ I know I should.
Do you think of me, perchance?
When days are long and nights are cold.
Bestow on me a passing glance?
Think of times, now far away ~ Distant?
A sombre time, a valedictory happenchance.
I should visit but what's to gain?
~ To see, now, how you are?
It could easily even cause you pain.
I would come soon, now! today!
But outside it looks like rain.
Green
Sea Glass
Washed ashore
Smooth perfection
Polished by ocean
A find most intriguing
Nestling among wet seaweed
Treasure trove waiting to be claimed
Before the tide greedily reclaims
Sweeping it back to oceanic depths.
I used the Haiku beachcomber to craft the above Etheree. At the moment, I am torn between the two forms.
BEACHCOMBER
Treasure washed ashore
Retreating tide leaves sea glass
Green, smooth perfection.
And some may say her eyes are sexy,but no ,though true I think those eyes are deep ,telling a story with just a look..some may say her lips are kissable ,again though this may be true ,those are the lips that speak the truth..Her smile ,yes that smile captivates ,whilst true ,that smile can disarm the coldest heart ..She is just Michell..
A random thought..
Science is intriguing
With such reliable sources
Is it the physics and chemistry?
Or that of an electrostatic force?
Newton's law of motion
Along with kinetic energy
We open our minds and learn
What a pleasant sight to see
april thunderstorm
watching the show
~ bowl of hot popcorn
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
The wind was black
and I wanted to make an eye contact
with the unknown.
Following the stars
in midnight?
there was something called
desire, in clean moon,
untying the knots?
in breast. The truth
was not in kernel,
it was in the flowing veins
of the leaves; sun, trapped
in green carbon. The?
wordless poem dousing
the fire between the cinders.
The cosmic door opens, shuts.
The bird song covers your tracks.
Satish Verma
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