Levitating Poems | Examples

The Conjuring

Cinnamon and clover lingers on my breath,
a reminder of power that lies dormant.
Building …
                  hesitating…
                                      yet still being fed. 

The wrangler of such petulant magick
understands that spells have wings to fly. 
Building…
                  levitating…
                                     taking to the air. 

Respect the ability to maintain control
letting it all go and pulling it back in again.
Building…
                 decompressing…
                                              breathing. 
                  
                That is the conjuring.

Him

Another cold night
And he was here, right next to me 
His face over my shoulder and hands wrapped across my belly.
Caressing me at times, teasing!
His lips alternating between bites & soft kisses
Leaving marks wherever possible.
Just when i was levitating in pleasure,
Something loomy stuck my mind.
It whispered hundred things.
Of all,
What hurt the most
Was how many people must have been in my place, before and after.
Not just the number
But also the fear that there's someone out there
Who matters to him
More than i could ever.

Bird's Nest

In the unpretentious backyard 
Of my house— not a home,
Bloomed a bird's nest
Concealed concernedly
In the benevolent branches
Of the dear aged tremulous tree. 

When I noticed the nest nearly,
House felt like a home dearly,
I noticed the humble hatching 
Of the birds—
Life lustrously levitating 
Out of a shattering shell
Of an emaciated egg. 

How gentle squeaks 
Filled the surroundings 
Slowly and sincerely,
My heart hissing 
Gratitude for great glory. 

Now, they are a week old,
Surely, soon, they will fill
Their wings with their
First flight 
From my backyard 
Amply, they'll be gone long
And I'll still be a basic bard
While they'll be reaching
The racing clouds. 

I know not the name,
I know not their kind,
I tried searching,
But I couldn't find
The name of the birds
That are taking shelter
And bedazzling 
My rudimentary backyard. 

How artistically 
Nature wonderfully works—
Blooming and dying,
Escalations and sorrows,
Falling and flying,
Yesterdays and morrows.

Morning clouds

there are clouds in my coffee cup
they hover over a sea murky dark
the forecast is tumultuous at best
this morning's been hazy and
somewhat stir crazy

i drink my coffee but can't shake
these clouds now levitating overhead



AP: Honorable Mention 2025

The Great Place Above

I’ll shed myself a final tear
I’ll say all the things I’d like you to hear
I’ll get over all my fears
The ones you’ll never help me overcome
I’ll cry until my heart is done
I’ll sing until all the words are sung
You’re gone now, but you will be missed
I’ll dream about you, good dreams are wished
I’ll never learn how to ever exist
Without you there by my side
I’ll be a coward and run and hide
I’ll waste away until my soul has died
Without you I have nothing because you were my everything
I’ll give you the world I’ll give you anything
I’ll give it all up because without you here I’m levitating
To the great place above

In a sea of roses, the ashes of your ghost still wander

In a sea of roses, the ashes of your ghost still wander,
breathing you in deeply, I try to pierce through the veils of time,
but to no avail, only a bitter emptiness fills my weary soul.
Fate tempts me, taunts me with the echo of your voice,
in the dead of night, when sleep refuses to be my companion,
the passing time infects my broken mind,
hallucinations envelop me in the sheets that once were ours.
Breathing in your scent, expelling the demons that surround me,
without you, the devil whispers words of temptation in my ears,
fire flows through my transformed veins, a living blaze,
Lilith's fury poisons any trace of humanity left.
Levitating above the bed, rebirth approaches with silent steps,
cutting into the chest, the heart becomes heartless in its beating,
electricity pulses beneath the flesh trembling in the moonlight,
destruction is now at the tips of my thirsty fingers.
Pain begets hate, and now watch as the world burns,
while I become my own martyr, a flame consuming itself.

Sea Of Roses

The ashes of your ghost still roam within a sea of roses.
Breathing you in, I try to reach through the veils,
yet to no avail.
The bitter emptiness is all I can feel.

The Fates keep taunting, teasing~
in the dead of night, your voice still lingers,
preventing slumber from taking hold.
The ticking of clocks infects my broken psyche,
hallucinations tangle me within what used to be our sheets.

Breathing in your scent, exhaling demons~
without you, the devil whispers.
Temptation takes hold,
fire flows through transforming veins.
Lilith’s fury poisons any humanity that was left.

Levitating from the bed, rebirth is at hand.
Cutting into my chest,
the heart becomes the heartless.
Electricity pulses beneath rippling flesh,
destruction now at my fingertips.

Grief begets hate.
Now watch as the world burns,
as I become my own martyr.

TODAY'S THEMES

TODAY’S THEMES      

              1.
          
Teach this to the teens:
God gives glory gracefully;
let’s live lovingly:-


                 2.

Time to tell them this:
Bravely battle bigotry,
fighting for freedom:-

                 3

Stop syndrome shootings;
levitating living love,
have hope’s healing hearts:-

A TALE OF A DECADE

As I meander 'neath bougainvillea's resplendent flare,
A lachrymose tear descends, delicate and rare.
It glides o'er my visage, where memories dwell -
Nostalgia pirouettes in an ephemeral spell. 

A fragile form, each breath a whispered plea,
Cracked like ice beneath a trembling sea,
Whiffs of solace levitating from amma's lap,
A delicate darling, like a rose dew on morning's nap.

Once a diva, enshrined in radiant effulgence,
Now scattered like meteorite dust, yet still rich in resonance.
From molasses, I emerge, each step a soft reclamation,
As blossoms unfurl, heralding my quiet resurrection.

Lessons linger in memory’s endless mosaic. 
Seasons sail serenely, steadfast and stoic. 
Worth blooms not in victories alone -
Be the heartbeat that heals when twilight’s grown.

In My Deepest Fantasies

Sudden was the descent of poetry on me
I tottered under its weight
My body heated up like the sun
A frying egg yolk on the pan
My blood started burning…. burning

A strange madness crept across my senses
Intoxicated as by an excess dose of ale
Or drunk with the vintage wine
Or by some mystical disengagement
I started levitating

Wings sprouted up suddenly on my sides
I reeled round and round
Flew up and up
Meteors flashed past
Stars blinked
Larger celestial bodies stood still
Strange sounds fleeted past my ears
My heart palpitated,
Like the rumblings of thunder
My eyes glowed like fire balls

A shout I heard afar
Over the heavens’ mysterious rim
Muffled though, I could decipher it;
“Welcome to the clan of poets”!
Around me, I saw multitudes of poets
Young and old, their faces blazing
Like a thousand lanterns lit
In that blinding brilliance
My filmy wings burnt outright!

Like Icarus, from the heights
I flopped down to the chasm below
In the scattered heap of flesh and bones
A faint stir …..
…………………..
The feeble flutter of a poetic heart
Before it was finally stilled!!

Autumn Leaves

The floral foliage of Fall fuels my pen to flow
Nature's carmine carnage is a crimson condition to watch
Russet quills of the trees float down in myriad shades
Amber leaves levitating like flying embers
Auburn arrows gliding to meet the earth
Soft sepia smiles sent down from the Shepherd above
Burnished varnished tree-bits travelling back to the ground
Crumbling orange smidgens creating crunchy cracklings
Brown bracts brave enough to bed with the soil
Gamboge hues gamboling like golden glowing gems
Lurid leaflets leaving their last lucid legacy
Before they turn into les feuilles mortes

Two Floors High

The books, two floors high,
levitating toward my upper limbs.
Not costly. Worth every penny.
Spread out by the tablefuls.
Grateful for this claustrophobic,
pyrophobic atmosphere.
Pages fingered, on bindings linger -
what’s the subject…who’s the author?
Snatch up before the next in line. Don’t
get left behind. At the end of the line with bags, boxes,
wagons, carts, kids. Hand full of dollars spent
sans burns, scars; no heart attacks.
Smiles upon smiles find
their way back to the packed parking lot.
At home, a lovely spread of books.

Smoke on the Water

The water was warm it must have been
The morning was cold it was early
The two collided and and there it was
 smoke on the water rising 
mysteriously 
Vapor thin outlines levitating 
With the dawn chorus applauding 
Ecstatically 
There is no smoke without fire
Here comes the sun little darling
It’s alright

Eerie Forest

Swaying branches spy as secret spooks in canopy’s dungeon
Creepers knitted around trunks like ornamented bead chains 
Suspended pillar roots appear as the matted hair of Lord Shiva.
Hoarse noises as non-rhythmic beats of an amateur drummer
Serpents dragging their bodies on dried leaves with cracklings
Hoots, chirps, clicks, and whoops from the crowns of trees
Whispers of exhausted leaves and goggling eyes of silent owls
Spiders’ silky webs  levitating as the canvas of boats
Trunks green with mass, standing as Lucifer's lieutenants
Scent of flora mixed with acrid smell and the floor with sticky clag 
An impassable stretch never been eyed by the sun and moon as well.

PLACE: 3rd

Searching For Velvet at Midnight

Sultry softness beckoned
by a thousand touches
caressing
the air that encircles
the body divine
chillingly
embers buried deeply
in the soul of passion
burns
charging the heart’s desire
yearning
smoldering aglow
with captured fire
incinerating
levitating
flames of desire
flickering
in exquisite madness
emerging
surging
with thrusts
of pulsating dreams
searching
for velvet at midnight

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