Long Elusive Poems
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Veritas Vincit
the elusive goddess of the mind and soul couplet
a revelation of who we are, what we believe,
all that we imagine is or should be conceived;
born on the rising of the sun
holding moon glow in its captivity run
a complex menagerie of starlight within the cosmos dominion,
universal relinquishing of fictionalized wordings and opinions,
a hope, desirous dream, endless entity of fact from fiction
formalized false narratives of time and space interval diction;
it struggles, writhes in the turning and tossing window
foaming ocean waves of misinformation, lie, innuendo
there is no escape of twist or twitch spoof
squirming, wriggling the pathways of lie and truth
obsessive view in the eye of the beholder's solidarity,
is there hope, is there the possibility of a new reality
it truly is, as it really exists in a hidden state?
in the end, history will write what we dictate
someone's vision, another's reality
the hope and dreams of a future giving life and liberty
and freedom will take sail
only if
the truth prevails.
Sparked by Margarita Lilico's Latin Lessons
1/10/2022
Sleepless
My mind wanders down an empty hallway
Turning knobs
checking each door
Hoping
Wishing
Wanting
To find Sleep
She is my elusive lover
I was in bliss
When she cradled me in her soft arms
I rested my weary head upon her bosom
Lovely dreams flowed like a peaceful river
Refreshing
Invigorating
I flew among the treetops
Gentle breezes whispered my name
“Come discover the secrets of the universe”
I could see brief glimpses of eternity
Light lived inside of me
Now I am stuck in the dark
Eyes closed yet she will not come
I toss and turn on sheets of broken glass
Cutting
Slicing through
My dreamless silence
There on my nightstand
That clock
Mocking me
That incessant tick tock
Seconds to hours
Thoughts disjointed
Flickers of the past
Future worries
That rarely materialize
I know better
Yet I’m unable to be wise
So I continue to walk
Down this empty hallway
Turning knobs
Checking each door
Knocking
Pounding
Please please
I don't want to be here any more
Slumber
I beg you
Please
Please
Open a door.
While some formulas have long been agreed on,
With specific weights and measures defining them,
And as anyone who has failed an exam,
Because they tried a formula previously proven unreliable,
Will tell you,
Tis wiser to have learnt them by heart,
Than to rely on the one written on your shirt cuff,
Not being a blot on future career prospects,
There are some formulas that are still as elusive to us today,
As they were to all those generations who came before.
The problem has always been in duplicating them outside of the laboratory,
Every person of note throughout recorded history has produced a formula,
For success that nobody else has ever been able to duplicate.
The same with formulas for longevity, happiness, a perfect night's sleep,
Or one that allows us to stop drinking wine at a point where the effects,
Are only beneficial.
This leads me to the conclusion that some formulas,
Are only meant for single use,
And never to be entrusted to governments,
Multinationals or those,
Whose eye is always on the next sure thing.
Morning Turns the Page
Night lies softly across the beach
as delicate as a black, silken scarf
while, underneath its dark veil,
the sea is blue tissue paper
with whitened finger tips,
wrapping an early morning present.
Then night, nature’s magician,
magically removes its black disguise
allowing early morning light to reveal its gift -
an awakening beach washed by sea and sun.
A hurrying-scurrying train rushes up,
sprinting between houses,
swerving towards the beach,
as if trying to catch an elusive wave.
Next, with a deeply drawn breath,
its metal body ducks under a hump of bridge,
rattling out the other side with a whistled scream.
A giant, oak jumps back in surprise
branches fumbling, acorns tumbling
like golden coins being spent
while blades of grass ripple and flex
waving the chattering carriages on their way.
Speedily, the train scribbles its way forward
reaching for the distance where a town awaits,
where streets and cars are a working toy set;
at the seashore, waves calm themselves
throwing final cups of cappuccino froth
over coffee, coloured grains of sand.
The sea slows to a mutter, a white whisper
while the beach gradually relaxes and waits
to be toasted by a warming sun.
Later when the morning gradually
turns the page into the afternoon,
the day loses its chuckle
as the seaside scene is met with
a push of wind and a punch of a storm.
Long departed the train
continues to stretch its journey
searching scenery to entertain its passengers
while hugging the coast like a long, lost friend.
Ian Souter
What is love? Love is a portrait of art and love is precious.
Love is amazing poetry, simple imagery of alluring beauty,
Love is wonderful presentation filled with nice surprises,
Love is the first duel in the field to conquer honour and duty.
Love comes at dawn with welcome arms full of charm.
Love lives in the land of glory, by bristly heroic sacrifices,
Love is a language the conscious noun use of genres from,
Love is a life light until our soul eclipses the eternal skies.
Before pall bears, shadows fall smouldering ashes in a fire,
Love is the vows we make and the vows that we will shun,
Requiem powers of the dead lend strength to the survivor,
Love is in colours of the rainbow that glows for every nation,
Love is the scroll on which romantics wrote symphony of notes,
Love is the road on which they walk towards elusive goal,
Love is the boat on which they serenade carnival floats,
Love is in the air on streets of gold catching snow and windfall.
Love is many laughs and as many cries, we treasured most,
Love is risk and adventures floundering in the sleepless night,
In a chasm of abyss leap the soul above incarceration mist,
Clasped the fantasy that yearns for passion in secret delight.
Love is a cloud on which birth surprisingly thrives on earth,
In time, our emotions tear down the walls on which it stood,
Until we go back in reincarnation blur along the same path.
And consume the hearts splitting off into tiny pieces of good.
Love is a mixture hidden deep in faith, of belief small or great,
Unhinged the carriage driven by mortals in athleticism flame,
The contagious nectar of taste refined more palatable than hate,
In rhapsody of human glory, the acumen brings no shame.
If you had love? Would you give it away or keep it as a gift?
Finding ways through prison bars up the stairs and into the stars,
Love is too costly to waste scratching your head tearing at yourself,
From the almighty plan, it is our needful breath of joy and tears.
I walked a long stretch to reach you.
My path was uneven, my journey was mystical,
I stumbled on rugged pebbles many times,
My fingers got pricked by thorns on roses, and bled,
The wind was tempestuous, hurt my face like sharp blades,
I did not stop, I kept walking.
There were dainty flowers beneath my feet to greet me,
They were delicate, they were ethereal,
Those floral saplings were bruised by treading on.
They could not protect me from harsh wind and incessant rain,
Water dripped from braids on my hair,
I was shivering in the stormy weather.
My soul was wrapped with music of love.
The sparkling champagne light of autumn,
mysterious whisper of twirling velvety leaves,
the turquoise waves lapping on shore,
chirping melody by a tiny hummingbird,
elusive dewdrops quivering on lotus leaves..,
O darling, I can not stop because I know you are waiting for me,
being love-starved, my heart bleeds,
and beats faster than you can imagine.
Those ravishing flowers will guide me to you,
My journey will end only when I am in your embrace.
Oh butterfly, earth's gift of renewed hope
Transformed from nothingness to work of art.
Bright fleeting beauty dancing in the sun
With perfect symmetry of form and style...
A painted flutter, splashing joy through space.
I'll fly with butterflies through light of day,
Life's vivid beauty dancing in the sun,
With flowing grace to fill my hungry soul,
And ray of hope to paint my eager heart,
Sweet happiness will walk the earth with me.
And firefly, the glowing gem of night,
Elusive spark that celebrates day's end
With mini fireworks for nature's joy,
Erupting out of nowhere in the dark...
A flashing star on sky of velvet black.
I'll glow with fireflies through dark of night,
Death's twinkling silence dancing in the black
With jubilation lighting up my soul,
Its luminescence blinding still my heart,
As death's adventure lifts me to the stars.
Sandra M. Haight
~9th Place~
Premiere Contest: Favorite Free Verse (not for contest)
Sponsor: Laura Loo
Judged: 03/22/2018
surreal dreamlike reality
unexpected to say the least
savoring prized moments
precious pearls strung one by one
with bated breath
deep in our heart we realize
and know all too very well
there can only be one first
there can only be one first
genuine in appreciating its gift
a rare form of blessing
in its purest sincerity
to stretch beyond infinity
now that we grasp
how precious
truly it can be
there can be only one first
of that we can be sure
and all considered most likely
most undoubtedly our last
carvings in the silk of time
ripples across the ocean
to somehow capture
treasure and immortalize
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Although love is known to be elusive,
every beating heart's hope is to find it.
For it's the reason that life's worth living,
and like a glove, it needs a perfect fit.
When it comes down to it, we all need love,
for it lets two hurting hearts get along.
And yet, it can still somehow elude you,
for it won't stay where it doesn't belong.
It offers pleasures beyond forever,
even though its pursuit may leave you blue.
But there is no reason for you to fret,
remember, it's also searching for you.
Love is hope; it is trust, and it is joy,
all the things that are important to you.
And it doesn't matter what you call it,
if it's real, any endearment will do.
Without love, there could be no happiness,
for that is what love is when it is true.
A feeling lovers willingly die for,
love's a bond exclusively shared by two.
Antelope graze the savanna,
Without a care in the world,
For literal lack of imagination.
Languishing in a morning moment,
The herd simply enjoys its munching.
Something else wafts on air,
Some chemosignal delectably taboo.
Sweat beads trickle down his temples.
Savanna creatures pay no heed,
While mysterious molecules send and prime.
Stress triggers a downward spiral,
Hit as if hunted, not the hunter.
Amygdala on overdrive, panting,
Heart pumping to limbic arrhythmia.
Such dark surreal safari is unexpected.
Predator feared is no leopard, no cheetah.
May as well be his reflection in the mirror.
Elusive yet eventual, relentless - inevitable.
Calm now, as I elicit the parasympathetic.
I am a safe sacred space where you have come to rest.
-ARCantu, 05/22/2023