Long Exquisitely Poems
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Fire and ice
Paradoxes combine.
A battle. Fought tooth for tooth.
A truce held.
But still holds no truth.
A prisoner. Of pain and gore.
Of royal birth. But imprisoned by woe.
Satisfaction.a dire necessity,
Of the cruel and crude
Mundane mockery.
The jury. She decides.
Her majesty .So sedately revived.
Beauty. So invigorating.
Ravaged. And so very beaten.
Presumptuously, we surround and capture
Her copious territory,
In all its glory, almost divine.
Killing, mass murdering, and stabbing her.
Asphyxiated. She struggles to survive.
Serendipity .Such a marvelous delicacy.
So rare. And undefined.
Exquisitely .so gracefully.
She leads her mate. Amour in hand,
As she dances so playfully with venomous destiny.
A battle of blood, wit and more.
Tired, she wakes. Tired, she soars.
Through the sea of hate, malevolence and pain,
Through the bloody field,
Walking through hordes of heads, feet and stacked bones.
Nature, as violent as she may seem,
Neutral, loving...breathing pure felicity.
Ragged, and broken, torn and distraught,
With fervor she retreats,
And with fervor, shall she retort.
by
Amanda M Miller
Form:
The sky
‘twas the bluest azure blue
cobalt
sapphire
as if she really knew
No clouds could be seen
just the sun shining through
betwixt sky and sea
shone especially for me
The bluest azure blue
as if she really knew
The rays from the sun
reflect upon the sea
Like a million
trillion
diamonds *
* sparkling
* * shimmering
* ** * * * so exquisitely
* * ***
Wishing I could capture
such a moment in time
With an easel and a brush
but alas this talent was not mine
without artistic flair
I was grateful for just being there
Capturing the colours
with the camera in my head
To develop and to nurture
mind painting instead
and slowly as the sun went down
setting in the west
this was the day of lockdown two
for you and me and all the rest
Restrictions
there were many
Treats
there weren’t any
For who would have thought it
just a year ago
life changing Covid
transformed the life we’d come to know
And breathing in the bluest
sapphire ~ cobalt ~ azure blue
I drift away to paradise
to the wonderful World we once knew
Written 5th November 2020
on the first day in the UK of Lockdown 2...
Contest YOUR CHOICE COMPLETELY 39
Sponsor Brian Strand
N/A
I had a show cat named Merlin–
A handsome, stately feline.
A pure bred Rex of Cornish fame
black as a moonless night
with a single star patch on his chest.
Merlin was admired by all whom he met–
A handsome stately feline.
Aloof but showy and demanding attention
for his magnificent crinkled coat of
exquisitely soft fur.
Lost in the wild while camping with me
A handsome stately feline.
I had to leave him at the State park.
The rangers watched for him and called
when they saw him feeding under park lights.
I drove that very night to retrieve my lost guy.
A handsome stately feline.
He was never the same and always seemed
to miss the adventures he’d had.
Nevertheless, he remained by my side.
I loved the beautiful independent cat.
A handsome stately feline.
He’s chasing his own perilous adventures now
with his wild feral instincts unencumbered,
not remembering his domestic life with me.
Such sadness dearest Connie
now that you have gone
So sudden ~ without warning
A shock for your dear family
My love and prayers I send to them
Your poetry exquisitely
was written from your heart
So many words you left for us
When reading them I see your smile
and feel you here ~ just for a while
I'll miss your kindly comments
Oh such a thrill for me to see
That you had taken precious time
to read to comment on poems of mine
I really can’t imagine
the shock for your dear family
To them I send my heartfelt love
praying for comfort from God above
For you my Dearest Connie
now with your own true love
I thank you oh so very much
and send to you my heartfelt love
Written on 14th September 2022
for dear Connie after hearing the devastating news of her sudden death
Contest BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CONTEST
Sponsor BRIAN STRAND
N/A
I remember you holding me in your arms
Rocking me gently while singing lullabies
I remember when you lived a short walk away
Relatives were local and get-togethers were the norm
I remember your amazing purple mohair sweater
You knit exquisitely and wore so gracefully
I remember your scented creams and signature ring
I never grew tired of holding your hand
And telling you how much I loved you
I remember watching in awe your bedtime routine
As you meticulously undid your braided coif
Dropping your soft wavy hair to your waist
I remember you never missed Sunday mass
And held on to that glow throughout the week
You knew about plants with their healing powers
Neighbors came to you for answers and advice
I remember how you would scrape savings for travel
Always working in visits to friends who had moved away
I remember the aroma of the pies you baked
After tireless hours of quilting, sewing, weaving
Embroidery, knitting, crocheting, and whatever else
I remember there was nothing you couldn’t do
You started tutoring me when I was three
And probably earlier as I was eager to learn
It was my favorite form of play
I remember hearing your schoolhouse stories
I’d picture a little house in a field and your teacher attire
Your turn-of-the-century class full of kids
Then I’d let you continue teaching me to read, write and count
Though I wasn’t yet of school age
I remember being uprooted and moving to the country
Leaving city life and you behind
I remember how good life was when I had you
To turn to for support and guidance
Or just for your warm bountiful embrace
I remember getting that gut wrenching feeling
That bitter call in the middle of the day
As I was told the crushing news
I would never again see, touch or hold you
How can I not remember
The inconsolable devastation that never dimmed
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~ALWAYS WITH ME~ 2020
AP: 1st place 2026, 1st place 2020
Submitted on September 26, 2017 for contest LOVE FOR MOVIE SCREEN sponsored by SILENT ONE - RANKED 2ND
The trash has been removed by wind and truck, by hands
much smaller and hearts much larger than his.
The twinkling lights no longer shine on the tree
or in my eyes. Scourer of malls, hunter of treasures
magpie to the crownless king, reveling in his “just” deserts?
The cold, meaningless, plastic gesture of his disregard lay
under the barren Xmas tree, barren, as his love for me.
His treasures piled high, exquisitely dripping with each
memorized desire, truffles melting on his thoughtless tongue,
scrapbook memories litter the pointless horizon.
Soon, he would attempt to hurl three decades of subservient
gestures out, out like the small flame of love left, in the empty
space which was my heart.
As veils are falling
another will lift,
shades and shadows
do shimmer to shift
Leaves of time
start their drift on by,
petals of life
float to sigh
The tree of days
seeps in mysteries past,
its branches swing
in a swoop so vast
An ash of self
is detached and free,
moves in concert
with a spirit of glee
I am floating the wind
my mind stands at ease,
having found a testament
in glimmers of peace
Winding through valleys
and skipping across waves,
to skiing a mountain
and diving in caves
Touching the fabric
that covered a life,
finding the bumps
that brought trouble and strife
The lives I watched fade
into faraway nights,
waiting for a reunion
as days end in sight
In the smooth of the cut
I am exquisitely reminded,
of the love we have shared
and lives wandering blinded
The haze of pride
cleared eons ago,
a humble mind
began to grow
Re-birthed in wonders
of misty foresight,
a mind of shadows
has found faith in light
Now finding the courage
to absolve all sins,
being paid in full
a new page begins
Mesmerized by your chrysanthemum smile,
I drifted in bliss inside the halo
of your gladioli gaze
and as I studied the grace
of that forget-me-not face,
I memorized your metaphors
and your many luscious similies,
like the lushness of your eyelashes
that frame your wide, ebony eyes
as if they were the wisps
of delicate cirrus clouds
adrift in a crystal sky.
And so it is
your face will forever
be stenciled
on the fabric of my mind,
for you are my
ever-marvelous, magical muse.
A multitude of the hues of you
are exquisitely inked
indelibly
in my soul.
O brother, how gladly we speed away from each other, in earnest.
To each, his/her face mask. Already we are all dead, dragging our feet
to our grave. No one spares his strength on shoveling dirt in the cemeteries. Cities of murder cry for vengeance. Are you fool enough to stay? It's a cause akin to our ancestors who vanished in rough seas, all pain and rogue. When you've reached my age, that's exactly what you do, rise defiant against our rotten core. That wanton company of hope is safely delivered to trash bin. I
may even one day boast of a proficient 'rebel without a cause', bracing for new sensations. I notice that people hate me, repulsed by my foolishness. Take me to your serene circle. Poets and the public are both pathetic. Phantasmagoric pandemic reigns, in its twilight we play the daredevil, it may yet provide a token of fun. Aghast, it pushes us below the cliff, spoiling our fun. I ring the hero within in its web of doubt. It knows how to advance against all the rubble.
To sun and moon I pray, of the flames of faith I have no dearth. Beseeched by far horizons, aware of the grace, the injury to fear. You are not who you are supposed to be. Stop terrorizing your soul. Forgive the tired jest, modestly entertain the possibility you may be wrong in your conclusions. Razor sharp reconsiderations, like a capsized vessel, I salute you captain, please explain which star shines so exquisitely indulging your fantasy? That's an assumption you have no right to make. Nothing affects a captain's conduct. A catastrophe provokes trouble but doesn't give you the license to peddle the intellectual traits breathing arrogance.
To hold a peaceful air, break in radiance the horned beast spreading stealthy. It has achieved its goal, won over every soul, but yours. You should pass the muster with honor if you stop wrestling with the truth.
Afternoon Tea
in a bone china cup
Tastes nicer
don’t you agree
~
Earl Grey tea
especially
when poured
from a teapot
after brewing
not stewing
~
For exactly the time
that it takes
for to make
a nice cup
of Earl Grey tea
~
Lay out your best china
Royal Albert ~ Liberty
On a tray
On a cake stand
there all for to see
~
Brown finger sandwiches
with salmon
with ham
Scones and whipped cream
homemade strawberry jam
A plate full of dainties
exquisitely made
Washed down
with a cup of
Earl Grey
or Assam
~
So typically
English
is afternoon tea
Always a treat
both
for you
and for me
Written 5th June 2022
Contest A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE
Sponsor Brian Strand
FIRST PLACE