Long Departing Poems
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The departing spring leaves behind for me
a bunch of rose in my lone heart to greet
with joy as sparkling as dew drops could be,
I don’t let them wither in summers heat.
In moon splashed midsummer night I take you
to the blue bank of stream through silk star dust.
In the vase of my heart the rose you view,
flushing in crimson flame of lustrous lust.
With the murmuring tune of torrid stream,
fervid music of yearning I compose.
Its blazed beats pulse your eyes, framing my dream,
enticed by my touch the lids you don’t close.
After I end my summer serenade,
you feel in its rhythm what remains unsaid.
June 7, 2020
Syllable count : 10 each line
Checked with howmantsyllables.com
Rhyme scheme : abab, cdcd, efef, gg
Contest : Summers Heat Sonnet
Sponsor : John Hamilton
Written: December 19, 2023
"His style has the desperate jauntiness of an orchestra fiddling away for dear life on a sinking ship. Edmund Wilson"
____________________________________________
With each fresh day, leaves on trees grew dry.
Stream flow had ceased in the vast waterway.
Enormous boulders collapsed to dust!
Perched on lonesome island of my life fust
I tasted the bitterness of shattered dreams.
Walls stood in my path, hindering laud gleams.
Depart from my delicate and feeble universe!
My nightmares shattered all hope, into a curse.
Departing with daunting sadness and failure.
Wallowing in self-pity, longing for a torn sailor.
I am seriously suffering through my fate!
I was startled when I heard a faint whisper sate.
Optimism is a belief that can lead to success.
Even if roses are cut, spring will still progress.
Shift focus toward kindness, not dwell on pain.
Twiddle to the glorious sky to rise once again.
There are no desperate situations, they say.
Only desperate people endure; they convey.
In the pits of anguish, hope might dwindle.
We mimic inner force to rise without a swindle.
There, within the deepest recesses of our minds.
In a land where shadows hover and dismay binds.
A faint glimmer of light starts to flicker.
We will strive for perseverance and vigor.
Who are these people, you might ask?
Ones who will fit any extent for their task.
They are those who are eager for success.
Steadfast in their quest, they never digress.
They are the skeptics, rebels, and bold.
Who is loath to be tethered by societal mold?
They overstep limits and breach walls.
Unabatedly, their tenacity never stalls.
Ready to accomplish a wide range of things.
They have no fear of spreading their wings.
No snag is too vast, or argue that is too tough.
They are keen on any cost, even if it is rough.
Grace flows, twists, turns, renewing spun gold.
Heaven's enduring doors continue to enfold.
Wistful soul is overtaken by delight scope.
Phoenix emerges from the ashes of lost hope.
As the year ends, its hues trickle down into a bewitched sunset,
Beneath autumn's brown cheeks, the sky is boldly dusted,
With summer's goodbye in a yellow garb, it laid over the lands,
The earth's heart in seed, for bouquets shunned, from desires begged.
Trills of roses, entangled in the pretentious bloom of narcissi,
A swarm of dandelions that detach in the breeze filled with youthful dreams,
Waving to someone on the wind, over ponds, over labyrinthine paths, knotted in
Nests of song, frail hopes in a whisper, awaiting in majesty,
Delicate shadows of fluff and flight,
That tremble in the depth of the flame, in the sharp cuts of mist,
And limestone caves through the reckless fire shed their white.
Herds from the north inscribe their path on the southern sky,
Charting the return of the seasons that sneak through the gray rain.
The sun hums the twilight to sleep, lost in the blustering night,
And bare branches, sifted by longing, stretch under November's surrender, towards the laziness of winter's darkness.
And so, the year unravels in a symphony of melancholy and charm,
Unveiling itself in a dance woven on the thread of memories,
Marching in silence, between being and forgetting in a delicate tapestry,
With each departing leaf, a mystery is lost, a legend is hummed.
Submissively swimming into autumn's bosom, kissing the frost,
In a silk of destinies wrapped in the cosmic twist of time,
Silent hopes at the crossroads of worlds, waiting to be tied anew
Under the warmth of new dawns, reborn from the cry of the freeze.
The seasons revolve in sublime spell,
joyous essence I feel within me dwell.
Summer’s departing footsteps I hear,
as blazing sun mellows down at noon.
In autumn meadow dew pearls appear,
the leaves rustle, they’ll be gold soon.
The seasons revolve in sublime spell,
joyous essence I feel within me dwell.
Dawn’s prism emits the autumn color,
as crimson cloud kayaks across azure sky.
In sunburst landscape nature is never duller,
as in zephyr the fallen bronzy leaves fly.
The seasons revolve in sublime spell,
joyous essence I feel within me dwell
Catching seasons’ signal on my radar screen,
I can detect winter’s approaching shadow.
To soak the last warm air of the fall I’m keen,
in frigid times I won’t be glacial and fallow.
The seasons revolve in sublime spell,
joyous essence I feel within me dwell.
Chilled miasma melts making cyan sky clear,
spring descends through the sparkling air.
Wispy clouds in sapphire expanse appear,
suffused with sunshine the buds bloom in flair.
The seasons revolve in sublime spell,
joyous essence I feel within me dwell.
_______________
July 7, 2022
Contest : The Time Between The Seasons
Sponsored by : Kim Rodrigues
Quiet moments,
Spent with the dawn – spent…
With an all-consuming love, God
Who knows me like no other…
He knows me better than a brother.
Quiet moments,
Still as the rising sun – shadowed…
By the moon’s departing glow,
Awaiting its destiny beneath the stars,
Where forever – we’ll pen our memoirs.
Quiet moments,
Saved for such a time as this – silence…
Lifting all my worries, all my doubts,
Stirring me to listen to the light above,
When this joy – shines like glorious love.
Quiet moments,
Survive the failures and flaws – soothing…
Away the feelings that breakdowns produce,
Reminding me that beyond the worries – regrets
Are few and far between – not too long til’ time forgets.
Quiet moments,
Sprinkled across the evening skies – soundlessly…
Stars glistening and shimmering, twinkling on the night,
Gentling the moments with their heavenly luster – glowing
So the whole world will know, they abide just for showing.
Quiet moments,
Stilled by the darkest silhouettes, appearing – startling…
Away the doubts and the gloom, heartening the dreams,
Satisfying the weakest, the fragile and frail – supporting
Hearts who believe, always encouraging, never thwarting.
Quiet moments,
Startled by the beautiful in the soul who sees – smaller…
Doesn’t always mean less or unimportant, there are times,
When smaller means humble and modest, unpretentious,
And, filled with kindness, charity – a heart who is conscientious!
Quiet moments,
Stirring the heart so that there is abundance – a sweet sensation…
In the lives of those who feel God’s presence in every condition,
Feel the way He lends His light to even the darkest situation.
What I know about Him, is He promises grace and salvation!
Over obscure wasteland cloud hovered unmelted,
the desert deprived of tuneful rain languished
until you arrived with the whistling breeze,
the oasis resonated in the ripples of lacustrine symphony.
Cadenced joy cascaded in deranged depression,
in the dwindling dunes fervent flowers bloomed.
In sensuous tune the vibrant sky’s spectrum dissolved,
the harmonic hues of twilight gleamed your grandeur.
For me lost in the desert of desolation,
searching for missing passion in migrant mirage,
within the abandoned channel meandering indolent,
the murmur of your music echoed in yearning flow.
The melodic flight ended with the folding of wings
in the nest of memory weaved with strings of sonata,
ringing the whisper of the departing zephyr,
turning into the sound of music when doves cry.
It's another gloomy
Saturday morning,
all trees drip with warm rain
while in the distance he hears
the whistle of the departing train,
while loneliness
and sadness
keep growing...
remembering his happy
yesterdays of Gigolo;
he loved rock songs
with a fast tempo.
Hey, gigolo with an endless charm,
this risky lifestyle won't ever last,
money is only earned with sweat;
this risky lifestyle will twist your arm.
His bleak moments
spent alone dreaming,
aren't those happy yesterdays of Gigolo;
they were cloudless and shone
with the brightest light from behind the hills
gently swaying;
they brought warmth to his cold window.
Hey, gigolo with an endless charm,
this risky lifestyle won't ever last;
money is only earned with sweat,
this addiction will twist your arm.
Now, the flashbacks bring tons of tears
of the loneliest guy
who can't let go of sensual images;
can they forever linger on mind
on his troubled mind
and comfort him with a silly lie?
Hey, Gigolo with an endless charm,
this risky lifestyle won't ever last;
money is only earned with sweat,
this addiction will twist your arm.
His happy yesterdays
of gigolo were made
of adventure, of danger and infatuation;
he dreamed big and was awarded
a trophy for pleasing lusty women.
Now, he sits alone and grieves
with nothing to be proud of,
he gave up on divine love
to seek earthly pleasures.
Hey, gigolo with an endless charm:
this risky lifestyle won't ever last;
money is only earned with sweat;
this addiction will twist your arm.
Here’s to a love that never existed!
And to the departing you insisted,
Let me give in to all I’ve resisted
It is true through our frivolous trail
Our lives were but a tale;
Though if I hadn’t thought of it
Pure hearts indefinite,
Not mattering even then,
Would I ever believe again?
We never win, we never fail
For what we had was only a tale
I’m lost within a dream never dreamt
Inside a slumber never slept,
And I caress the intricate design
Of the world I can never find
How vast! Yet still it is dying
Fading into the nadirs’ binding
As I fill the world with crying—always crying!
Oh world! Can I ever bring myself to hold
The warm nothing growing cold?
Oh world! Can I not take away
The love I gave with my will today?
We never win, we never fail
For what we had was only a tale
As the flotilla of climbing clouds calmly drifts in the sky
The beguiled birds bathe in the glimmer of the blue bay
While autumn departs with crystal ambiance on the sly.
The transparent edge of halcyon horizon bids good bye
Splits the spreading sunbeam in spectrum of hued ray
As the flotilla of climbing clouds calmly drifts in the sky.
The sparkling shades of color spill from its bucket of dye
As the bowed down slender blades of fawn grass sway
While autumn departs with crystal ambiance on the sly.
The meadow sprawls for the crown of topaz dew to lie
On its cranium as the touch of chilled wind turns it gray
As the flotilla of climbing clouds calmly drifts in the sky.
Along the cinnabar pathway of the garden getting dry
The rustling golden leaves from the sepia trees stray
While autumn departs with crystal ambiance on the sly.
In the glow of crimson sunset one feels the spirit rise high
Having received from God the gift of another golden day
As the flotilla of climbing clouds calmly drifts in the sky
While autumn departs with crystal ambiance on the sly.
We are but transient breezes, subtle specters,
On this ancient soil, so dense, so tangible,
Yet fleeting seagulls of smoke in nature's hands,
A curtain's sway when the final act concludes,
Departing from mortality's sharp incision, we leave without armors,
Simply empty shells, extinguished echoes on the shores of oblivion,
Bearing the secretive seal of a destiny towards the void.
How much trust we place in the nipple of mother matter,
Which, as if bewitched, can stealthily blow into a dance of rage,
Subtle or gentle, sweeping in its path without asking,
To then rest, as an eternal statue of enchanting rock,
Entangled in scents of the past and stardust.
Water, anima mundi, takes shapes that conceive our dreams,
Of vapors, rivers, and scales,
Murmur of steam, song and ice's silence,
Its clear transformations mocking the angels of reason,
The restlessness of this voracious cosmos,
Weaves the unseen dance of passionate atoms,
Dropping the illusion of a room where nothing stirs,
Though drifting into vast abysses of boundless space.
The mysterious elixir weaving its web from occult matter
And silhouettes that seem cut from the stillness of eternity,
Elude the clumsy decision of the tried consciousness,
While seekers of signs drink desperate silences,
Visionaries between the heavens, in a carousel of intention,
In the eyes of the crowd, a vain and endless quest for meanings and essences.
As much as the pantomime of worlds transforms,
The same remains the story - a circle that closes.