Long Intermingle Poems
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You've been lost along the equinox
of confusion's bitter myriad
Although, you smile, there is a trace
(somewhere in the languid night),
of emptiness, turned bronze, instead
We'll take a walk, beneath the limbs,
in filtered light, against the glare
The sun departs, to welcome night
but sparks a light within your eyes
It stirs the dust, and alters time.
You suddenly become alive,
with stories I had never heard.
(I'll chase the dark to find you,)
and even birds high on the branch,
will stretch to hear what you might share.
(Do you search a distant sky, this lonely hour?)
With quavered voice, but strangely clear,
A remnant of another year,
awakens from a buried box.
(There are lights upon the trail.)
You turn a key, and now unlock.
We walk the grove and as you spoke,
a thousand words, once thought as lost,
are ghosts, like shadows, under oaks,
(where I have gathered the stars.)
The leaves fall down and turn to ash.
(The moon will be a candle.)
I take your hand, to gently hold,
into my own, as I am told,
(while darkness frees you),
about a child, in summer, born,
then lost upon that autumn door.
I cry for you, ...your tears are dry
The comfort of the warmth of hands
unite us now, beneath a sky,
that's bringing dusk, across the land...
(with the friendship of the night.)
I've watched this girl now disappear,
back into fog, she was before.
The memory will drift away.
(I tread the dark in silence-)
Perhaps it's best to let it stay.
We pass again, back through the gate,
one moment left, to hesitate
(moon and stars my companions.)
A change of view, each step we take.
Tonight is fraught of sadness, great...
(until I find you.)
3/1/15
Carrie Richards
______________________________________________
Intermingle Contest: Sponsored by Craig Cornish
A mix of two poems "Lost"--- written 10/15/14
"Chasing The Dark"--- written 9/17/11
24 begins with its cruel rule:
"No sustenance or quenching of thirst
until the sad/happy day passes”
Caring women with initials enter
Poking, prodding, asking the same questions,
While loved ones nervously watch
Close friends, friends, and strangers
Phone and visit, offering their comforting words
"We love you." "We're praying for you”
"Make a pact with God" "Chin up!" "Think positive!"
Their messages intermingle with disquieting thoughts
Of hopes and dreams left unfulfilled
"Why me?" "What now?" "I’m too young for this ...”
As hunger gnaws, and expectation is postponed
Caring women with initials enter one last time
Poking, prodding, asking the same questions,
As the pushers of the bed arrive with their benign smiles
Unwanted darkness returns
As uncommon mortals work at their bizarre craft
Opening the golden bowl
Exposing its precious contents
East and West Coast loved ones,
Separated by time and circumstance,
Carry on their prayerful vigil
As 24 continues
Surrounded by love
Sustained by hope
Copyright © 1994-2018 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Image credit: Out of the darkness | Photography by Thomas Toft | via Flickr
Should I assume the human form of Shakespeare? Nay!
Though in my works, of that great soul, much I might say...!
Should he happen to come into my human form?
Will I to his storm-like poetic norm conform...?
I will, yet, feel like an avatar by him sent,
What his thought on illusory life, now, is meant;
Do facts and fancies, in writing, intermingle?
Do rhymes of truth and falsehood together jingle...?
Are our mirages, myths, and truths tightly inter-knit?
Do we, about every creature's life, care a bit?
Do we applaud virtues born with and by way gained?
What use of a poem that, within words, is chained...?
The irony, image, symbolism... he used free,
Each could, within his unsaid words, hidden truths see;
Iambic pentameter did bombard so far,
Shook hands with each genre that stood, then, highest par...!
I see my Soup friends immerse and emerge from these,
By each word, form and figures bear poems at ease;
Our pens, like dear Shakespeare's, I know, will never cease,
Unless and until, in our graves, we Rest In Peace...!!!
12 January 2023
Shakespeare in 2023 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
In the beginning it is just a lovely cloud
Collin comes across her in the coffee house
One of his friends calls his attention
Look, your mom is here, let’s go elsewhere
A descent of birds pecking at his brain
The cloud he keeps looking at for quite a while
The face and the figure look like his
He goes to the toilet to look into the mirror
The semblance he sees is a puzzling wonder
The birds dance and sing in tumultuous chorus
His friend confounded when he is told
Collin does not know who his mother is
He had been adopted when he was just two
The lady too looks at them off and on
When a bridge comes up none can say
The next few hours he passes in a daze
Is the quest for four years going to succeed
Is the cloud preordained for the sudden rain
Or it is just a fortuitous resemblance
But then isn’t it an exactly mirror image
Returning home Collin scrutinizes himself again
In the mirror he finds the same chiseled face
The same desirous dreamy eyes, head full of hair
He recites poems and talks to himself
Same grace radiates from the daffodils
The plant with the flowers hangs in the air
The charm and the fragrance are irresistible
He craves to rush forward and hug it tight
And flood the flower with crimson kisses
The scented air stays elusive nonetheless
Collin says everything to his adopted parents
They are very glad and cooperate to get to the truth
There would be no problem in living all together
Collin laughs and says very forcefully
The twenty two years old son is no more an introvert
When the magnet works in the very stem cells
The eventual fusion is inevitable obviously
She takes him to her apartment
She lives alone her husband dead
No shadow of children nowhere in the rooms
Thousand wasps biting inside his head
The pain is traumatic for the hidden truth
Light and dark interchange day after day
Poems of love keep churning the two hearts
Drama outside and a flood within
The day DNA test confirms the gene
The two intermingle to a river serene
______________________________________________________________
August 8, 2016: For the Contest: Long Lost Family
Sponsored by Silent One
Gaia’s womb the ocean,
births her children with aqua love.
Mammalian heartbeats intermingle with
The sound of the tides;
harmonic echoes are recorded in
every abandoned shell.
The wisdom of those who traverse
this entire world amid the waterways…
immense and timeless; borne of eternal-mind;
the consciousness of the universe resides in every soul.
A spiritual connection deeper than life
each grain of sand holds the magic
drawn from the cosmos.
I reach to touch a conch, Lifting it my ear;
listening to the wisdom it provides
in the language of surf.
I hear the voice of a dolphin,
“We are one and the same”.
The spirit of the Manatee asks,
“Come swim with me.”
Wading into the surf, I feel the cool
of ocean embrace and dive in;
a rubbery touch of manta says
“Hello, let’s race.”
I find myself among friends.
While doves flutter, dying words whisper
Silence becomes haunting and Angels sing
A lone filtering light, a soft glister,
casts a fleeting shadow from dove's wings
As this arrowed light pierces the dusk grey,
on bended knee I pray for you, My love
Touching hard cold floor, where your casket lay
Seeking unanswered questions from above
( The loss of love is far beyond love's means )
( and tomorrow will see the end come true )
( To know depth of sorrow when it convenes )
( When light changes color to deeper blue )
( To bow their heads in open palms and cry, )
( as painful dark begins the day now new )
( Love's last memory fades away to die )
( and hearts now bleeding hide from times it knew )
No comfort did I find in your last breath
Forgive me, as I taste this bitter wine
Release me, from the vow I once confessed,
by the shadow of your spirit confined
( This love once sworn is now of colder mind )
( Desire dissolves leaving a vanquished shell )
( Neither clings to fragments still left behind )
( They search for springs to fill their empty well )
This last drop from the bitter wine I made
Brings dark, silent dark as the cold light fades
( The passing of their moment won't be crossed )
( and the bond between their hearts shall be lost )
contest Intermingle
Frederic Parker 2/16/15
poem When Love is Lost 7/20/14
poem As the Light Fades 6/25/14
images
yesterday's visions
in a well
within
lost
in
wonder
an inner light
envision
dreams
hallucinatory
visions
lying
as flotsam,
washed by the tide
cascading
igniting
pictures
within
my mind's eye
a deluge of dreams
floods of fantasy
rivers of reverie
torrents of thoughts
vapours of visions
waterfalls of words
imaginative dreams
passing allusions
intermingle
with enigmatic thoughts
a transient sense
of the present
mutli-layered
broken
syntax
in semantic
ambiguity
now resolved
innovative
coherence
now apparent
in
folios
of verse
A gentlefellow and maiden intermingle
on curiosity's swing-seated rest.
Vulnerableness is compressed between them,
as if a violet's caress requested their presence.
Harmony's tones are blown through the air,
like lilac's laughter scattering
as jasmine's megaphone hums.
Music's smooth movements dance within them
as if mountainberry ice cream were sampled
from their dreams with a fairy dusting.
An artist's loaded brush paints their moment.
A starfish's bluish blush comes naturally.
Beating blood and veins overlap silently.
Regal drape twine hides a stage
where beauty's ballrooms bloom before their eyes.
Love's uncomfortable shoes
leave a pleasurable bruise as they
peruse through fields of vine-ripened grapes.
An eggplant's bloodline finds royalty's manners
are hung like Lutheran banners
in the boldest of circumstances.
A stream of jelly donut filling
lunges into their tongues at once.
Tastebuds are given amethyst's first kiss.
Like hot and cold amiss, the warmth is blissful.
A rainbow's favorite ending begins indefinitely
as a projection of the evening's sky blending.
The progeny of red and blue is born by two.
Neosoul and swing a melonic groove
is how she fashioned his music.
A term of endearment.
They styled the ollabartions
from words
one word supported
the other.
A circa when with the lyrics.
A rich bold bassey groove to some songs.
And a strict snap and turn dance ska for the lovers of dance..
when the whoomps and the strings intermingle
with the woodwinds and brasses.
People jump from there seats
and be shaking there a$ses type music. Inspiration from
the orcheastras eagerness to
show how great they are. Some people look
at inspiration from
not finding the right thing to say.
But these cats walk on hot tin roofs barefooted
knowing what to do.. Bluestone Funk!
Sweet romance with no broken heart type
movements.
grooving to the groove makes
love songs that much appealling. Smile at you defeat
knowing your time is coming. Wear that strap Champion and
shake your thang at your reseption.
I eat "Ice Cream Castles" from the air
Now there are no clouds anywhere
The Ice King sits upon his Throne
No Queen for him he's all alone
Within blue skies the world is clear
I stretch my hand to bring him near
Climbing upward on a "Ferris Wheel"
From luscious lips a kiss to steal
He looks on Earth to find a bride
Each girl he has kissed has sadly died
We know love, from "both sides now"
A pleasured moment a broken vow
Sad and smokey tortured eyes
Within metal cocoon we try to rise
His lips so cold my warmth is stole
He must find one to quench his soul
As the wheels turns, we both shall fall
We want everything but can't have it all
The ride is over the game is done
I can't share our story with anyone
He is a man and has his needs
On others warmth is how he feeds
The Castle crumbles clouds back in the air
I dream my dreams I can still smell his hair
Lonely is the path some lovers choose
I sit with red wine and sing my blues
Within the cold there is desire
He seeks a woman with ample fire
As smoke dances on thickened air
I love a lover who isn't there
My First poem is Empty Castles, written on July 20, 2014.
It was a tribute to Joni Mitchell's. Her song "Both Sides Now"
was part of the inspiration. Words from her song are in quotes.
I wrote it after looking at a self portrait she painted.
I chose to write it in a female voice.
My second poem is Ice king, written For SKAT July 28, 2013.
The third and forth line of each stanza are from this poem.
This poem is for Craig Cornish's; Intermingle Contest.