Lissome Poems | Examples

Night Nurse

Her eyes are laden with drunken sleep, 
Silhouetted by lank, tired hair flimsier
Than the spine of an elderly, broken night.
Tattered, it buries the horrors of night;
Braided, it creases the rows of black corn,
Sweeping swiftly south and downwards;
Ponytail ties the umbilical linking life
And skyline light.
Lissome, she traipses with no lamp, 
Even when darkness confidently pitches its nightingale’s romance 
To district judges seated on the kerb of the apothecary’s creed . . .
With her the night loses its potency,
Its sacredness,
Expelling flies that die out on their own willpower,
Like winged dinosaurs, 
Through the age of decomposing summer.
It's all been analysed before?
The oneiric spell cast upon slow, difficult nights
When the breath smells like the anus of hell.
By the way, I drivel.
Not saliva.
Oh, no!
I drivel on about hissing nights that ought to be lonesome,
Stretched out, dark, and without rays borrowed 
Earlier from a twerking twilight.
Restless nights, worn like silky cloaks, diaphanous,
Seeing through the naked veins of her sweet eyes.

Public Clocks

At first his anger was hotter than July
Or, rather, he was plundered by the weight of
Sorrow —heavier than the ice of January;
The kind of stolid ice that thickened Niagara Falls
Like frozen soup.
He was tall and lissome, bespectacled, in
Dark suits, a brown hat, worn-out shoes of fraternity.
A folded umbrella accompanied him like a touring child.
No wristwatch.
He doesn’t wear them.
Asked why, he normally replies, “There are many public clocks”.
Stocks have plunged
Every expert he asked shared the same opinion?
Stocks are like seesaws —
They rise and fall.
Before then he had assumed that “rise-and-fall”
Was only for dictators,
And of course empires.
And every public clock he glanced up at
Had the same opinion on time? it ticks away,
Slowly, but perfectly.
And if you want to do time,
Then hurry over life importunately.

Bamboo

Grant me rest under your lissome stems
Let me hide from the raindrops — shiny globules
That drip with tropical hauteur,
Rain that harms the ribs with cold rebukes.
Welcome me within your greenish lair, from
Your cane roots to your starry leaves —I insist on visiting
In your prime, so fresh with dew and so green, like
The envy in the gritty eyes of singed composts,
When waving rays of the shifting sun
Bathe the narrow venues formed by adjoining stems
Up, up and up the stairs and dome of the jungle.
I pray to shoot up with you and befriend the skies.
Oh, such elevation!
Fill my gourd with green wine;
Make me drunk with the spewing colours of life.
My heart is open to receive light —from misty dawn to
Dusk crowned with your blessing.
Let it rain on, I pray.
My palms are spread out like your leaves — I borrow the
Innocence of your frondescence.
Carve me flutes from your nodes, and, from them
Raise the cadences for summons, to be accompanied by
Drums fashioned by hands greased by the gifts of
The forests. . . .
Raise the joy, the frenzy, the tone of the ceremony
Raise, raise . . . upheave them
To royal heights — such as yours.

Speed Limits

They pose with the austere stares of
Loving, friendly ghosts —tall, gaunt and lissome,
With big, rounded head.
Draped in weathered robes of care,
They are the only guardian spirits we see.
They have the calming power,
Where drunken machines run amok
Through broiling engine oils
And reckless crankshafts,
Spitting gas, and brittle axles.
Roads are unpredictable.
In winter they storm with the quiet rage of
Sods, dragging queens and whims . . .
Guide me, O limits of spirits!
Check my fattened excesses for fibrosis.
Darkness thickens —even by feast-time of the sun.

LADY

The lady had her day
Of bright lips and mystery
In summer she was Muskeg
Each winter a monsoon
It was as monet
Her refusal to weep

And had my courtship
Proven less lissome
If I had not cast lots
With vagabonds and dreadnaughts
Then perhaps, say I, perhaps
Time would not be vain
And the lady
Still ever vivid in circumstance
And moon fall

Thought Parades

An escapade from thought parades
A blockade of rouge descent
An oeillade craved
Rueful indignance
A room full of insects

A jocose allusion
A lissome illusion
A querulous reality
I weep where you can't see

Streams of dreams
Melt slowly, spring snowman
Abhorrent print
Why can't I just speak casually

The Breath Of Summer: Saturnian I

A stretched gloaming tethers creation in a 
daystar's wake ... askew parts The Old Guitarist 
ebbing lambent stars strung to a yarn of spring ...

'Tis the volley of calendrical crasis 
poised to a youthful Einstein that subtracts from 
the sum and substance whence summer makes a splash ...

The advent of an enchanting star dulls a
chant that the Khanate only stains upon its 
Golden Horde smolders beneath befriending clouds ...

A whiff that slights Aurelius' bearings yet
still trifles a chalk absence to the presence
of cheese that embellishes the languid tracing ...

The shallow space of bards decreed a crowning 
flock of teary favoring san tissues of
lissome verdancy choral ode vibrant charms ...

Worshipped effervescent microscopic dew 
bringing into being just one bell prayers
bearing fruits of promise in globule water ...

Petrichor emanates to a hoverance 
wisp claim as wandering brevity stands still 
amidst a sonder of souls ventured threshold ...

Gold beams glimpsed a bevy coup of a vast crest
as the dripping stalled in evaporating
stares chase a clinked rainbow flaunts with ... creation.

Virile Explorer

He was virile voyager called Stanley,
with slurping tongue he could burn cold alley.
         In journey from top downward
         his machismo got devoured,
he found lustful way in lissome valley. 

This man never found the bed out of bounds, 
his wife liked he explored ivory mounds.
         Her drooping assets age got,
         he disliked, monk he was not,
ventured out exploring youthful new grounds.

Gift Of God

The dazzling dawn lights up my heart’s horizon, 
spreads the sensuous spectrum of luring longing
on the gorgeous blooming garden flushed with my love,
swathing the facsimile of your florid face with charisma.

The patina of rose blushes in your sensuous lips,
glittering with the grandeur of charismatic petals.
Rhapsodic wind blows in mesmeric meadow of my heart,
as you become mine, I float beguiled in ether of euphoria. 

The sculpted window of your hazel eyes closes
like the folded ornate wings of hypnotic butterfly.
Lattice of onyx eyelashes embroiders lissome lids of eyes,
harboring dulcet dreams in the fathomless sapphire sea.

The radiant cherubic cheeks are subtly caressed
by serenading zephyr suffused with fuchsia blush,
candescent in the amorous aurora of sunburst dusk sky.
Breathless, I etch in my halcyon heart the enticing image. 

In my journey in the undulating terrain of life, 
through the blizzard in the winter of despair,
and along the valley of flowers in the spring of delight, 
by my side I always find you, the precious gift of God.

Spring's Love Song

"Happiness? The color of it must be spring green." - Frances Mayes

Soft sun embraces souls, sentimental,
Shimmering stars sing through the silence,
While a heavy moon glows gently,
Graceful as winds who ease moods,
Skies alive with shadows,
Drifting through heaven,
Spring’s wavering,
Like music,
Soothing,
Dreams.
Calm,
Pretty,
Flowers bloom,
Delighting songs,
Played by lissome wings,
As dewdrops flow meekly,
New petals praise their Maker,
While the morning groans, still hopeful,
Melodies stir deep feelings, flowing,
Across the hearts who know Spring’s song of love.

Songs of Nature COS No 11: ABAB

Per drawn orphic sight, a ringed rainbow moon.
Feather swims in a vagrant squall, plummets,
burden bobbing outstretched like some mushroom,
spirals expel rippled waves pirouettes.
Aurora whisper opportune saffron,
forge balms beam strands to aerate crown's vastness,
errant gasp caught in raptured mist, lissome
Brief rain on lain shape of the gods vanish.
Pristine manna with a sigh midst hollow,
steep in prismatic poise purged euphoric.
Voice guides dulcet zephyrs to arousal.
Imagery caprices waft chimeric.
Vesper, yon the zenith of Terra's, take,
occasions a sign as moonglade o'er lake.

The Twilight Elixir

Written: October 23, 2023,
                       _____________________________________

A staunch surrender in a twilight embrace.
My mind is a hammock, swaying in the space.
Dictated dream and lingering shadow.
Petal radiance with an evanescent shallow.  

A passion fragrance, an aroma elixir.
A dulcet mellifluous flavor floods flicker
My heart's cynosure, an angelic sanitorium.
With lissome poise, a sublime emporium. 

In the depths of my soul, a radiance glows,
Scattering impressions as the wind blows.
Reminisce on the whispers of crumpled stars,
Silently sprinkled across the night's memoirs.

Emollient whispers of a forbidden dance,
Furtive and fleeting, a forbidden glance.
I fear the allure of this elixir spell,
Yet the felicity it brings, I cannot quell.

The flavor of surrender, fraught with desire,
A taste of ecstasy, a blazing fire.
Akin to fugacity, it lingers on my tongue,
A fleeting moment, yet forever young.

Lancing Lion

I have a large muscular strong body frame 
roam relaxed in the wilderness of thicket,
excel as a hunter of the wild animal blood,
once I set the preys as goal I hound them. 

Labeled as the king of beasts, even then, 
I don’t know why they call me a cat.
With masculine mane I crown my head
that seduces the lissome lioness in my den.

I like to lie with the cubs in shade of tree,
and lumber leisurely in the grassland,
can run the fastest under darkness cover,
strive hard to kill when we are hungry.

Follow stealthily the unwary alluring kill, 
I can outrun the fastest fleshy gazelle.
Lunge like a lance at its slender neck,
and pin the prey down for a hearty meal.

Beatitude

Written: October 22, 2023 For Dilly Dally Tritina Contest
                  _________________________________________

Blooms swell akin to cynosure elixir
Emollient radiance scattering fragrance
Evanescent breeze enlivens a dreary day

Furtive forbearance fearing a fresh day
Swiftly lifted the hold of nostalgia with elixir 
Felicity flavor fraught fugacity by elysian fragrance

Halcyon ease exudes of this gossamer fragrance 
My mindset is primed to tackle another day
Seraglio lissome lagniappe mellifluous elixir

Elixir fragrance has sanctified my esoteric day

Dandelion

Poised upright on the leafless hollow stems,
soft florets coil thorny balls with faceless fear  
with the tender touch of the saffron sun,
make a unique flower within a seraphic sphere.

In the mellow miasma of resplendent yellow, 
the harbinger of the efflorescent spring essence nigh,
the pollinators scramble for the stimulating nectar,
as the waning winter grows wings to fly. 

When the last touch of sensuous sunshine fades away 
from the threshold of the golden florid days,
the florets droop for the final peaceful rest,
not in vain, for their lissome luster in the air stays.

The slumbering seeds of the prime progeny
as merry blowballs in the beguiled bowl they appear,
perched on the fluffy parachute on fun-filled flight,
they joyfully drift to foraging far and nimble near.

In the tide of the hued spring they resurrect
in the verdant distant meadows unknown,
maybe they swing unwanted in the soft alien wind,
but they are happy to bloom as dandelion.

• Short Lissome Poems
• Famous Lissome Poems
• Best Lissome Poems
• Read Lissome Poems
• Long Lissome Poems
• Lissome Quotes