Long Bubbling Poems
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Come into the empty house
An unlocked door invites
See everything is in order
But there's grayness despite
No meal bubbling on the range
No aroma of baking bread
Absent sounds, blue loneliness
Hollow, empty, silent dread
Then mother lost her good job
She's at home every day
Yellow sunshine greets us
Orange and red fire invites to stay
We would sit down to eat
Big bites of homemade bread
Smooth brown gravy in abundance
Love and warmth lingers instead
Happy laughter fills our ears
Warm, soft, salty bread our mouth
The sight of both parents there
Fills the spirit's long drouth
drouth__Old Scottish dialect for drouth
I am not sure if this is what you wanted but I felt it might be ...
Stanza 1---sight, temperature, pain
Stanza 2---sound, scent(smell), and feelings
Stanza 3---feelings, vision, and touch
Stanza 4---taste
Stanza 5---sound, touch, sight, taste
Written: August 10, 2018
Against the back drop of green leaf copses, dulcet bird chirp, and bubbling pavement fountains,
that dawning from the azure blue sky a silken whisper,
to follow street signs on my route to work with ample gusto and much verve,
each metal
pointer to destination a micro mirror on its surround,
stoic indicator of direction, that upright unique urban compass,
clustered by behemoth scenic grandeur at its mint spring zenith,
and surging throngs who sashay in brisk step patterns so diverse yet firmly focussed,
as I am whilst counting on that reference point, that fixed point usher,
that deep-dyed friend at each crossroad safe in the knowledge of arrival,
and in tandem with a spotless day’s heroic toil in bright prospect,
how symbolic are these pathway guide rails to one who warms to flagship growth,
in its august transit on foot slog pitfall strewn road of expertism,
pole mounted emblems, silent sentry solid, detail for me on daily passage.
He walks in to check me out —
next-door saloon’s whisper: a pretty European girl,
ripe for display, perfect arm-trophy
like the cattle he skins for millions.
Another charity case to flash along his Hermes belt —
Clemence: supple, matte, bull-calf leather.
Starched jeans, custom hat —
wealth folded into casualness,
the quiet arrogance of ranchers who think money makes them invisible.
I examine him before he breathes —
he hasn’t dressed himself; he’s orchestrated.
Groomed, clean cut, pressed jeans, pearl-snap cuffs,
Patek Philippe ticking like a heartbeat of power.
Understated money, soft yet sharp,
as if I am the dumb immigrant,
too small to notice the stakes.
Then he speaks.
Checkbook-white teeth.
Voice bubbling like sewage
spilled into silk.
Brags of twenty-dollar-a-day labor,
guest-worker visas abused,
passports stolen like children’s toys
to keep them tethered, trapped, silent.
He offers a smile —
asks me out, as if I were another acquisition,
another trophy to polish in his golden cage.
I imagine tearing him from existence,
ripping him into a private hell
where bile is his only language,
his teeth rot, his Patek stops —
a perfect, lyrical justice.
But I am human.
Immigrant.
Poor.
I still carry a soul.
And a little white lie: I have someone.
He climbs into his premium trim truck
and drives himself forever out of my world.
I sigh, as miles peel him from my reality—
the ghost he cannot buy, cannot tame, cannot erase.
“Ceasing to sway, get out of your own way ~
That love and light bursts forth, like a sun ray”
~ quote, by poet
____________________________
Believing ourselves to be mind-body,
we pursue objects of our heart's desire,
more oft than not, employing thoughts shoddy,
immersed in delusion, until we tire,
whereupon we internalise focus,
shifting baton of awareness to heart,
divine entwined along the love locus,
deeming all souls as one, with none apart,
ascending thus, along octaves of love,
as bubbling joy becomes rapturous bliss,
enabled when head and heart, hand in glove,
feeling here now complete, nothing amiss.
We stoop to conquer, when we surrender,
as resounds within, soundless bliss thunder.
04-July-2022
HMS, Rhymezone
Theme: Life
It's All About Three Q's Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
The Grim Reaper calls; I invite him in with a smile
Halloween night, everyone’s wearing creepy costumes
Eerie figures are dancing round my bubbling cauldron
Guessing who is wearing each costume is difficult
Realistic blood drips down the fangs of one vampire!
I'm so impressed all my friends have made such an effort
Mummies, witches, ghosts and zombies are having such fun
Right on the stroke of midnight there’s a spine-chilling scream
Everyone bursts out laughing ... then we find a body
All eyes turn and see the Grim Reaper’s bloody scythe
Petrified party guests slink back into the shadows
Everyone removes their masks, all except one figure
Realisation dawns… The Grim Reaper was real!
Halloween Scare Contest
Sponsored by Russell Sivey
13 lines, 13 syllables per line - 169 in total checked with how many syllables
10-27-17
God search is my quest and therefore I write,
Driven by innate aliveness of soul.
Within every heart glows God's lustrous light;
My poetry shares truth sages extol.
Driven by innate aliveness of soul,
I pen words drawn in by resonation.
My poetry shares truth sages extol,
Wisdom garnered during meditation.
I pen words drawn in by resonation;
All I affirm is that God dwells within,
Wisdom garnered during meditation,
Magnetism and bliss bubbling on my skin.
All I affirm is that God dwells within.
Love’s presence He reveals in many ways;
Magnetism and bliss bubbling on my skin,
Rapture beyond measure that always stays.
Love’s presence He reveals in many ways.
Within every heart glows God's lustrous light,
Rapture beyond measure that always stays.
God search is my quest and therefore I write.
27-November-2022
_______________
HMS, Rhymezone, PS Grammar
PANTOUM ON WRITING POETRY Poetry Contest
Sponsor: L Milton Hankins
Marriage – our commitment for LIFE as husband and wife
It wasn’t a leap year when I proposed to you
But I'd got down on one knee, as it’s traditional to do!
We organised and paid for our own wedding day
This meant we had control and could do it ‘our' way
We got married two years to the day from our very first date
Both of us bubbling over with excitement, we just couldn’t wait
My hair was perfect, make up and manicure too
I wanted to look absolutely beautiful for you
The dress was of pretty peach, not a formal wedding dress
I’m not one for fussy frills and flounces I must confess
You wore a charcoal coloured suit and looked so very smart
Our vows committed us forever – I love you with all my heart
After our registry office ceremony we had a lovely meal
A carvery for close family and friends, the venue was ideal
We held a huge party for 300 guests later on that night
Our wedding day was perfect everything turned out right
The wedding night was spent at a beautiful local hotel
On learning it was our wedding day they really did excel
They upgraded us free of charge to their honeymoon suite
With champagne and chocolates and fresh fruit to eat
Edited and submitted to love poem contest
Sponsored by Heidi Sands
Contest My Wedding Day
Sponsor Olive Eloisa Guillermo
02~25~16
Do you know what I really love about you
golden honey flows in each step
having walked in my words
stepping over clouds
Even the darkest ones
every inch of my soul opening
From this heart deep inside out
it's pumping only for you
knowing the deepest part of me is wishing
away with the fairies
that I could kiss you
on those most gracious lips
Right now it would take ones breath away
in a silent gasp
The whispering of awe stuck jewel
living with you such a dream
actually gets this mind all fired up
deeply in thought
Has it been you my love
that I have forever
dreamed my queen
Thinking about you
passing you one of the hottest kisses
With boiling hugs bubbling inside for you
What will this day bring - its gifts
of lingering sunshine & flower storms,
the thundering of xanthous hues,
bright beams of crimson and green…
What will this day bring - a knock
or a ring, my feet go, the wheel teeters
and totters, the pedals pressed
for nearly an hour. A welcomed guest
of my father. His tongue will not sputter,
but will speak of his thoughts, memories
and belong to me for a lick of time. I
lean into his smile, his voice, his melodious
sadness at times, lessened by the years.
Who can cry anymore, only resign to loss.
He always compliments on the scent
of the familial cooking even before
it reaches his nose - a habit I suppose.
I learn, only from subtleness of his likes,
for Dad is not given to complaints. He
will not hide his ills but neither does he spill
all his aches and pains out like a feeble man
for he is of strong stock, not given to the sport
that some old people tote. He climbs the stairs
each day - his computer, clarinet, and boxes
of stuff are there - my husband thinks his things
must catch air, be sorted, thrown out, before
they become our load to carry. My spouse thought
our kids stuff should have been taken when they left -
not realizing, life doesn’t work that way. There is
staying power in life and death, wheeling &
dealing in its time, not ours. Settle in, stay
on course, make the most of the Summer weather.
Oh the gifts a day brings - knocks & rings,
a traffic storm, pasta shopping, saucy &
cheesy bubbling, dusting and vacuuming. I
live for such productive lingerings - blessings.
6/27/2023
Chipmunks playing chase,
Down at my favorite place,
A reminder of your grace,
When sadness fills the space,
Bringing a smile to my face.
Chipmunks playing chase,
I let my thoughts embrace,
Why they're racing around,
Snickering a squeaky sound,
Smiling at the treasure I found.
Chipmunks playing chase,
Racing across the ground,
A frown turned upside down,
A giggle comes bubbling out,
It's so fun to think about.
Chipmunks playing chase,
My sorrows they erase,
For just a moment,
A gift in my Present,
Thankful for the event,
I watch Chipmunks chase,
Enjoying their Present.