Long Ageless Poems

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Premium Member 'before My Pen Is Hushed'

Before my flowing, poetic pen is hushed in Quietus,
And I have reached my journey's end with folded hands;
            Departed into my dreamless sleep beneath violets,
Let me write one everlasting, eternal, immortal verse;
                  Of the ravaged garden of my life.

      I want to hear a bird song when I quietly glide away,
With a sigh, I will lay my pale form down peacefully;
            I have willed my Keepsakes and my musing poems,
The Angel of death, will take my hand into another realm;
                  And the drums of time will cease.

      Oh, it has been a life full of happiness entwined with sad,
I have travelled many different roads to get to Tranquillity;
           The chapters of my life are full of the dead and undead,
Memories of childhood, family, friends and pets I loved;
                  The scars of life stab my soul.

      I do not fear death and I am ready to go through the gate,
But I will miss nature, the woods and the waters moving;
            And as I walk the silent passage alone to my eternal night,
Think of me as being set free and soaring high up above;
                  I lived a life weather-stained with tears.

      Leaving life is something we all must do; it is written,
I was held by a thread in this earthly realm until that last gasp;
            Now, all I know is the peacefulness of a leafy tree above,
Drifting blue clouds and rain falling gently on my resting place;
                  I was a shadow on the wall of time.

      Do not weep over my eternal grave heartbroken my dears,
I have followed the beautiful Angels footsteps to heaven;
           My poetry is timeless, ageless, and will always remain,
I have shed this earth bound life and I am a butterfly set free;
                  I drank from the deep blue cup of life.

      So come, dear hearts and plant some pretty flowers in Spring,
I am at last united with all my beloved who have gone before;
             Touch my name and remember me for my beauty,
And although my life was but a whisper, I loved every moment;
                  Now, I exist in another realm.

____________________
August 26, 2015


Poetry/Epic/'Before My Pen is Hushed'
Copyright Protected, ID 15-1216-704-0
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.

Submitted into FGI  Blog Special - Epic
Brian Strand

Podium Place 1
Form: Epic


This Tranquility

This Tranquility
    by Amy Swanson




shimmers of light 

                  heaven soft ... 



sparkling stardances

                   moonlit mist ...



                                                      *do you remember*


echoes ...

       (oh so faint)

                   of far away

                                  yesterdays

                                         in my soul's memory




*Glittering*


          *dream-dust*


                        violet *iridescence*


                                        falling new

                            
                                                  re-awakening


                                                       my spirit


                                                   to dream again...


                                              within this ageless garden


                                                     simplicity's oasis

        

Silver-soft

           cascade ...

                  mystic waterfall
 
                             hues of rainbowed light

                                       sun-drenched prisms

                                                       crystalline pure

                                                                   flow down

                                                                          from heaven's realms

~ melting ~

         into this rushing river

                            of my soul...
                  
                                           my
                           
                                                  self...

                                                           with waves of blissful peace



Listen close-!

             serenity's song -- 

 

only the heart 

     can hear

          these gentle strains ... 



                                 melodious enchantment


                                           harmonious 


                                                joyous



Lush forest green -

                   life, alive


                                Warm marigold glow -

                                                    sunshine, envelopes



... all becoming 

                         this tranquility.

Stampede of Spilling

Spilling a stampede of ink's prisms in brilliant
 words infusing a Poet's thoughts.
Conveying creativity to provocative
 imaginations .

Implicitly complying to isolating reality
Creating new dimensions where
Clock's spilling time's perceptions living
the moment of now forever. 
Clockwise wisdom from wicked word’s
of a Crazy mind. 

Philosophically our minds process symphonies
of orchestrated word's allowing cognitive man
 to stay in harmony with the mind & body
 a climax of our souls.
 Mind the symphony insane insanity 
orchestrated by the body in climax.

Words infuse a person's thoughts.
Emotions are expressed by the pitch of spoken word's. 
Words communicate & body language speaks 
emotions relative to the words 
infused of a person's thinking.
 

Wisdom can be found reading in between the lines.
A paragraph of powerful catchphrases speaks 
melodies of a catchy tune & flowers of imaginations
bloom. 

Philosophy is ergonomics of the mind.
Urban legends in the suburbs.
Sounds of absurd check out the proverbs. 

Cognition is a subject of cognitive man.
Premonitions are permissions of man's cognition.
Relative to the fixed position.
Precognition is a psychic's dream
an heard but not seen.

Culture is a reflection of society's ideology
 theories of mythology in series of theologies. 
Hypothetical theories query a qued question. 

The clocks bleeding times perception
 of dimensions in galaxies 
light year's away. 

Romeo’s an architect of accentuating 
love's aesthetics in romance. 

Twice pleasing to appeasing
sentiments in orchestra's 
of delinquent eye's to witnesses. 

Accentuating abstracts in non-conformities
designs contemporary aesthetics 
in modern times. 

Contemplating exquisite elegance unique 
powers doubling my mind's conspiracy 
of forwarding complex sediments.

Orchestrated the dynamics  time playing 
noteworthy scales of creativity

All the syllables in a kilogram of lines, 
echoing grams of killer dope words whispering 
persuasive complexity. 

A mythic's chanting elegant wizardrtrii 
enchanting ageless philosophies elegance of
life's angelic orchids of ageless wisdom's. 

?U N I V € R S € ?
 {INT€R CONN€T€D}
    °O ? N S € £ F°
Pen's Broadcasting Brilliance 
     21st century's Poet
# WickedRomancer
?#poet #poetry #poem
Form: Epic

My Perception of War As An Ex Soldier

The problem with war is not just confined to the front lines where the battle rages on. A 
single shot can be traced all the way back home. For instance a young man stood on the 
front line takes a single shot to his stomach, the patrol he is on is down one man, it takes two 
pilots and 2 medics to collect the injured solier and take him to a feild hospital, where a team 
fight to save his life. One of the medics, who work on him knows the injured soldier very 
well. He feels distraught working to save the life of his friend. The young soldier's life can not 
be saved and passes away. When the medic telephones home to his loving family he tells 
them of the sad news that his friend has died doing the job he loved.

The family of the deceased war hero get an unsuspected knock on the door which, breaks 
their hearts. One shot of a gun, one round, one family is destroyed, another family feels the 
loss knowing thier loved one fought but couldnt save the life of his friend, and a full company 
of heroes feeling overwhelmed with sadness for thier fallen comrade, and a growing fuel of 
hate for an unforgiving enemy.

This is an example of one hero falling, and what effect it has had on so many peoples lives. 
Imagine the domino effect when over one hundred soldiers have died in one conflict, and 
remember there is two war zones at present, Afghanistan, Iraq and dont forget the peace 
keeping missions.

How many have to die or get left severely injured or disabled before someone stands up and 
says no more?

War is not particular about religion, in most religions murder and hate is forbidden, but when 
a religious man fires his rifle at an enemy, does he say to himself forgive me God for i have 
sinned? War does not care for religion. For all of those who have been in a war, who have 
stood in the heart of a foreign land tight fisted without fear, i commend you for we all fought 
an ageless war against an unforgiving enemy.

Do we all know what we are fighting for, not the lies the politicians bring, i mean the cold 
hard truth about why our government want that far away land. Would you still go and fight? 
All i can say is a few hundred men and women have paid the ultimate sacrifice for what i can 
make is oil, is it really worth it? and how long have this got to go on?

Premium Member Ambrosian Sycophancy

Written: May 13, 2023

3rd contest winner
                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lichen lilies lavishness,
outwardly shine as canorous core,
an idyllic sight of buds bursting 
a ballet of aromas filled the sky,
as dulcet spring hues dump down.
Butterflies seduce 
with trellised wings 
amid ethereal sapphire 
mist of Elysium,
I tossed my amorous nexus gloss,
countless metaphors emerge
an abyssal-rooted niche of insight, 
a sporadic charm is startling 
and delightful.
At sunrise, red orioles flutter
garden spring on my balcony,
ushering with cheerful chirps.
Emerald lime stains all that,
wild geese honk loudly,
ebbing from tropic migration
a cluster of violet fern flowers
zestful azure azaleas
vibrant daffodils are in bloom
fluffy tulips in all their glory
buoyant spring hues aurify the clay. 

Beyond that, there is no bounds
amid hypnotic Eve and pinnacle
from a charmed sight
my gaze is wide and riveted,
through this impressive display,
an exuberant plethora of shades
glistening on rain-washed skin,
sky-smitten, diaphanous blithe
melting into mesmerizing shapes
strange sights subdue my mind,
as my heart beats with delight,
emerging from its hushed cocoon.
a vision of ageless grace. 
 
Initiating sensory stimulation. 
witness the marvelous artwork. 
carefully crafted by a skilled hand
to bequeath a masterpiece
beaming with the spirit of love
a mesmerizing charm
a live sculpture in motion
& a pure symphonic melody
embrace a cosmic radiance
amidst a celestial daydream,
dazzling in a blaze of sequins
my heart is yearning,
an enthralling rhythm echoes within
optimism surrounds splendor
this exquisite ruffle relic, 
a morphing metaphor draws on forever
clarifying the layout of magnificence.

Beads of lilac amethyst
observe a lunar synodic cycle
debunking twilight
desultory musings
an auric haze wrapping
jubilant jewels are in motion
I am an awe-struck artist
weaving a quilt of love,
a dazzling aura of shining words
playing a whispering debate
under dulcet moon glow
In unique words,
stars are willing to shine for us
our love outshines all else
even most dazzling clusters,
an equally bright radiance
all over, a billion red diamonds
under oriental lily skies.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Eurovision Highlights


In the lovely Dublin theater
where dreams are fulfilled
excited spectators hushed
In the silence of the night
with avid expectancy,
Bucks Fizz entered the stage
his music is a hidden gem 
waiting to be performed
In a lovely breeze
a mellow silk thread was spun
akin to the moon's silky glow
I have hopeful dreams.

In the song 'Making Your Mind Up,' 
they sang with clear voices
the audience leaned in
ready to hear
words have hidden meanings
with significant implications. 
a galaxy of splendor
It's unlike ordinary life.
and are held captive
within its seductive embrace.

With voices that soar
they danced and whirled
with every movement
a lovely expression displayed
skirts swung
In utopian harmony
A glimpse into the future 
they were whirling
every rotation brought free flowers
a touch of cosmic charm
a trail of delicate silver threads
from sparkling strands
Into the waiting hands below
voices burst with delight
they showed me their weary souls
while others can't consume 
allow yourself to cry
whether from pure joy
evolved from a deep well of sadness.
 
weary spirits found rest
from exhaustion after a while
amid Eurovision magical lure
time stood still
the brine singer gaze
large and tender
someone uttered a song
that aimed to unify hearts
and whisk spirits away from here!
"This song was crafted for you, my beloved," 
she sang with a sense of urgency
then it accelerated
It's as graceful as a waltz
under the dancing stars.

twisting and falling from
skies above, to earth beneath 
bystanders were enthralled
they left me behind, lost in a daze,
their devastated feelings
the beat captures my attention. 
Where the tides of time glide
as the final note reached the air,
they were aware of this peculiar world
Under the stars
Bucks Fizz was presented
beyond just their vocals,
they weaved their magical gifts
similar to fabric producers
creating something fascinating
Their skirts pointed outward 
akin to arrows
To faraway places
Where love and aspirations exist
Let us reflect on the Dublin scene
Where music meets magic 
We have always danced together
During ephemeral times of skepticism
Let us revive the ageless ritual
Where skirts swirl.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Jadad Dragon

Jaded Dragon 
Beneath the silver glow of a liner gentle light,
A lone figure treads through 
Whisperwood'endless night.
Through tangled vines and ancient trees he roams, 
His footsteps hushed by nature's muffled drums.
When suddenly, a flash of jade catches sight, 
Guiding him toward secrets cloaked in twilight.
His heart pounded fierce, primal dread unfurling wings within his breast, yet he paused, transfixed by emerald fire burning bright against the gloom. Those eyes-oh, those eyes!-held him enthralled, twin lanterns illuminating am ageless sorrow and untold mysteries swirling in their depths.
Against his will, he found himself ensnared, 
Drawn to the dragon's gaze, a siren's glare.
Fear melted away, replaced by curiosity, 
As he stepped closer, pulse racing wildly.
Emerald flames flickered in the moonlight pale,
Reflecting ages untold in those windows to her soul.
With scales like polished jade and eyes that pierce the night, 
Thou dost command my feet to draw ever near.
Through wisdom bids me flee from thy sight, 
I find myself ensnared, unable to retreat.
I am Draconis Harperantrix, last of my kind, banished long ago to dwell in shadowed realms,
"Many moons have passed since I last beheld the light of day, handsome stranger. Too long have I dwelled alone, haunted by memories of happier times turned to ashes."
"Why seekest thou my lair, bold mortal man?
Hast fate entwined our paths in ways unforeseen?
Or dost mine eyes ensnare thee, like a lure cast wide,
Drawing thee ever closer, to my side?"
"My heart doth yearn to trust in thine intent, 
Yet fear doth grip me tight, lest 'tis mere fleeting bent.
Too often have I seen compassion turn to scorn,
When mortals learn the truth of my eternal morn."
But in thine eyes, I see a light unfeigned, 
A pure compassion that doth make my spirit wane.
Perhaps 'tis destiny that hath brought us thus,
Two lost souls seeking solace, bound by an unseen thread.
So let's seize thus chance, this slender thread of hope,
To heal our shattered halves and lay our burden down.
"For in each other's presence, we shall find,
A balm for wounds time left upon us.
So let us dare unfold thus story,
Hand in hand, face whatever lies beyond compare."

Who Is Killing Nigeria

Has your grandma told you how 
she queued to collect a cup of rice
at the campaign ground?
Has your father narrated to you how he was paid to steal the ballot papers? 
Has you been told how your mother shot a 
man down for a politician?
and now,  you are a thug for them! 
You're suffering from the same greed rust that peeled your heels like a yam tubers that goat menacely tear. 

Your uncle told us a snake swallowed
 the money meant for his office & we 
all rubbed our stomach & left him alone. 
We never chased the snake in the street.
Your auntie told a tale of how a monkey cart away with her  money & we smiled at her tale without asking how! Can she still spill sparky sperm in billion?
Do not sit by the door post and weep!
Do not say anything to the abandoned firewood that told of our foregone lives. 


Weep not, son, for the gods have
woken from the laps of a prostitute.
Those who cried under the rain we've seen 
their tears dangling on their chin. 
Political slavery is not skin deep than us,  
We made it arose from that creeping serpent 
that crawled unseen to bite. 
Do not ask of my name as a poet cos
I am as ageless as the lonely cloud,
Just know what I have scribbled now. 
You and I killed Nigeria before time. 

Our history was never baked in our school,
 it was baked by whitemen creed, 
They dragged us to the mud to believe what 
they told us was right not left. 
Weep not, daughter,  your mother was 
One of the cause of this tolls of death.
We are the fading sigh of everything
we long for & the echoes of our beings. 
Our leaders are made from one cloth, 
Same blood crossed path and they killed 
Brutally in the mind of beloved mother. 

My greed, our greed,  your grandma's,
Your father's, your Uncle's and yours;
Killed our mother before the universe.
There is an empty music in our voices, 
You drum to your left, Obi, to his right;
You wagged your tail,  Obi waved his
Hand & we never gets to a vocal point. 
I am burning my body as a poet to stay 
alive for you and for this land, for my
Eyes is a mirror to revolution of thought. 
We're killing Nigeria ourselves in a ditch 
of greed and corruption. 


Yours Poetically,
.©John Chizoba Vincent

The Askance Chapter 3 Part 6c

Your faith for the greater good has cease its dawning
Self-loathing in one’s destiny isn’t to be for your path’s bidding
So much more must you endure, am you to fully understand
Death to every a soul is a must for sacrifice to justly apprehend
Compassion, pity and even love must you learn to dispel
For these only belong the emotions of the weak to welcome Hell
Heed the need of my words should one day your mortal heart be soften
To be manipulated easily would be from the cause of these depressions
Therefore, I give to you this amulet, marking your destiny
Seek its true wisdom and in war will all simply be tranquility
Though this battle may have separated you from Alkaiya
Your fate is bound in time to meet her once more from afar
Return now my Knight, into The Ancients and face your fate
To truly be The Knight of the Word, lies a lifetime more to await”

{From whence he awoke, the amulet then lies in his hands
Where of power he sees in the amulet, might he seek to lend?
Without Alkaiya’s healing ability, he struggled onto his feet
Traveling through a day without aid from no one to seek
Though of the amulet on his neck, it withdrew but nothing more
Not of knowledge either for his near dying soul to call for
Till finally, onto an ageless tree he encountered to stumble upon
And into a dreamless dream he can only surrender and slumber Along}

“It was several days after before I am finally to see the light
What of miracles to have assisted me through those quiet nights?
And a single feather there lay beside from where I awoke
A finest of feather to once more assure there exist still of hope
Decidedly, I am to remain a while longer upon this sacred ground
To recover perhaps the lost of faith and of tranquility to be found
By the waterfall is where Ei-rian found thy loathing soul
A broken destiny in disguise, to finally learn of each destine role
Remember well, Knight of the Word… the cause of disruption
Nothing is ever the real truth beyond a mortal’s reason
And as for the amulet you behold, is imbue of my spirit
Should my aid be required, you are simply to will it
Of lives lost and found, of souls broken within
May tranquility come to you beyond The Ancient’s dream”
© Joel Lee  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Geisha Portrait

Mysterious pulse of old Japan:
Oriental strides of nurtured grace;
Cultured impulse in mindful trend.


Painted faces with measured trace:
Years of training now fruit fine skills;
Motif graces that gently pace.


Merge with duty in kind goodwill:
Delicate moves put men at ease;
Fine robes silky as softness fills.


Walk on still air with radiant peace:
Sweet music floats in song and dance;
A touch most fair as charm funds ease.


Sweet scents abide in steady stance:
Fragrant cherry blossoms delight;
Hostess makes strides to flavour dance.


There is a heart that sees things light:
Whispers most sweet warm murmurs here;
Choice sparks fond art in precious sights.


Listen, art weaves sensuous cheer:
Know sure finesse in cultured ways;
Petals and leaves, poignant grace steers.


Geisha maiden livens sure sway:
Gentle yet firm with sacred code;
Courteous haven that honours play.


Evening comes by nature's mode:
To waltz the guests with tender poise;
Explore and sum the festive lode.


Feed special treat for merry choice:
Discipline tells in cultured plot;
Look to chimed feats with measured voice.


Geisha knows how to prime each lot:
Pulse of movement that entertains;
Swaying flows now with subtle thought.


Years of passion as purpose trains:
Looking to sculpt a way of life;
See pure action where intent gains.


Glimpse the lure of cultured strife:
Here by the gate on Eastern shores;
Costume feels sure a beauty's life.


Mind and heart sign in craft and more:
Body allure that tells a tale;
Zen-like fine art to unleash core.


Delicate moves in rice brewed ale:
Joy serenades the party mood;
Crisp movement grooves as freshness sails.


Bright moonlight streams a dazzling good:
Lovely looks flood the surge of play;
Dream follows theme in wine and food.


Strains of music dwell with verse say:
Song and haiku to paint a glimpse;
Rhymes string magic as movement strays.


Geisha my dear watch wordplay scheme:
Look to beauty that hides within;
Notice lines steer the path I dream.


Geisha maiden from times unseen:
Fine tapestry from ancient times;
Sculpted haven from ageless scenes.


Geisha looks quaint in modern chimes:
Face laced in paint as silk robes time.


Leon Enriquez
28 July 2014
Singapore

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