Long Irresistible Poems
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Like uncared unfulfilled wishes creeping to the fore
Irresistible! Impossible, yet? Dilemmatic?
Shy about removing the robe that might reveal the core
Could the cut be covered with the costliest cosmetic?
Disgruntled, like a lion brooding over a lost prey
This itch turns into karma leading to endless rebirth
It becomes the root of my yokes on which I have no say
Expect I dare to scratch till stern stillness surrounds the girth.
Uprooting the weeds, forever, might be the best solution
Could we pluck out the plants because they trouble a little?
Rubbing with a hard surface might be a substitution.
Though commonality amidst these acts is mere brittle
If thirst, physical or spiritual, is timely quenched
The fulfillment of the heart will never be wrenched.
How I wish to scuttle alone,
over a gentle river,
from bank to bank,
in a small boat,
rowed with a bamboo pole.
The call of the wild is an irresistible call,
to venture into the silken waters,
to feel the wind and look at the blue sky
with nimbus clouds drawing strange patterns,
when seagulls’ fly, shrieking over my head,
and sense the misty spray of water
when weary hours shall sink to blend
with the soothing sibilance of the river,
winding its way through woods and plains!
October. 23.2022
~Placed Eighth~
POEM OF THE DAY
A Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
Freshman geek. Computer nerd.
Shy, sweet, not my type.
So why did his presence follow me like
A homeless, hungry puppy?
Unforgettable, undeniable, irresistible.
Just friends, but my heart already knew.
And the Matchmaker smiled.
Electricity in his touch.
Butterflies in my stomach.
The blush of new love spilled over our every move like technicolor.
Heady, intoxicating, fated.
The ring was the first stroke of our eternal masterpiece.
And the Artist smiled.
Contentment in his arms.
Security in his hands.
Playing house is a never-ending dance that he leads and I follow.
High lifts, low dips, dizzy spins.
The music swells, and he empowers me with the strength of his love.
And the Maestro smiled.
And from the super nova that is us
Exploded a third frenetic energy.
An atom of me and a molecule of him becomes the best of both our worlds.
Chubby, adorable, life-changing.
I know that two have not become three, but one.
And the Chemist smiled.
Heart growing like the Grinch's
Yearning to be filled.
Not from our seed, but a seedling from another.
Braids, dark skin, untrusting eyes
Transplanting a flower who has been neglected, whose petals have begun to wilt and drop.
And the Gardener smiled.
Days of parasailing through life,
Others being dragged behind the boat.
But never a regret choosing our crew for the journey.
Poor, rich, blessed.
Riding the waves of life on a board built for four.
And the Kahuna smiles still.
The turning wheel of time stirs up the dust of disarray,
that settles in the crumbling cauldron of disordered life.
In the maiming moments of disdained dejection,
truth tumbles in the mélange of disorienting chaos.
Under the scorching blaze of the envy flame,
the desiccated soul suffers parched and forsaken,
searches for the niche of sanguinity in self-belief
to get the self-seeking shade of hope in frustration.
The sapling of irresistible longing rooted deep in desire,
nurtured in the receptive core of the longing heart,
blossoms the flower of passionate hedonism,
luring the being with the illusion of impulsive urge.
In the disorderly squall of divesting dismay,
the mangled mind is disheveled to a dishabille state,
tries to snap the chords of captivating greed,
the psychic cascade of unconcern carries them away.
Chasing the mirage across the dunes of desolation,
the hope of taking life to the oasis disappears deluded.
As the beleaguering storm of disenchantment blows,
consciousness takes the correction course to undo despair.
The poem "Love of Pink and Blue" tells a tragic tale of two lovers, Romeo and Juliet, whose love was doomed by the feud between their families. The use of pink and blue as symbols of their love adds a unique and poignant touch to the poem.
The first stanza sets the scene and introduces the central metaphor of the poem: the love between Romeo and Juliet is like a bloom of pink and blue. The colors are described as bright and true, which implies a sense of authenticity and sincerity in their love.
The second stanza begins to introduce the conflict that threatens their love. The pink of Juliet's blushing cheeks and the blue of Romeo's passionate eyes symbolize the purity and intensity of their love. However, their families' feud serves as a barrier to their relationship, emphasizing the external forces that prevent them from being together.
The third stanza introduces the clandestine nature of their love. They meet in secret under the moonlight, and swear their love to each other, which creates a sense of intimacy and sincerity. However, their colors are described as clashing, which hints at the inevitable conflict that will arise from their relationship.
The fourth stanza describes the tragic end of their love. The families' wrath is too great to overcome, and the lure of their colors ultimately seals their fate. The use of the word "lure" is significant, as it implies that their love was irresistible, but ultimately destructive.
The final stanza emphasizes the tragedy of their love. Their hearts, represented by the colors pink and blue, are broken by the end of their relationship. The use of the word "fate" implies a sense of inevitability, and the poem ends on a mournful note.
Overall, "Love of Pink and Blue" is a beautifully crafted poem that uses colors as a powerful metaphor to convey the tragedy of forbidden love. The language is evocative and the imagery is vivid, which makes for a memorable and emotionally resonant reading experience.
Raise my butts voice to signal dismissal
In the congregation of adversaries to blow the night whistle
Raise my butts trumpet in its entirety
In order to grant grace unto genuine liberty
For You are my never failing stir--
The reliable and blindly open demur
Fit in my butts to sit down in peace
And relax in grace even in the face of tease
Fit in my butts to learn more of treasure
And fight beyond possiblity off pleasure
For You are my reason behind my mind's cage
Dating fun and scope's limitations to age
Set up for the next class at will my butts
To view no more from the angle of my nuts
Set up the classic raiding crusade for my buttocks
To sit not cowardly in the earth and heaven barracks
For You are the charges deposited in my ability
Before thee-- thou creepy and shady civility
In the midst of the past glory
Let my butts not sit in its story
In the light of troubling care
Let my butts learn of no fear
For You are my standing Warrior
Against life's irresistible barrier
The red glow of the setting sun weaves and ripples over yonder horizon
I gaze from the edge of a cliff with no path to advance even a step forward
was so sad and gloomy I turned myself back to see the trail I have left behind.
And I saw the path I walked in the past, I walked again the path of past
and spotted myself standing along the side of the path and at that moment
an irresistible impulse I wanted to hug and cry with him
because he looked so sad and lonely.
The one who I dearly loved, the one who I overly valued,
therefore, couldn’t unleash was nothing more than a shadow
reflecting on the roadside, the shabby shadow, looks more miserable
than anything else comparable to things that which surrounds him.
Why is that so?
That’s because I didn’t know everything under the sun
had their place and went before me,
or I don’t even want to know the reason for the existence of things
or search for this simple and clear reason for existence of the things.
And that means that my happiness and sadness were moving along
with the time calmly from the bridge over eternity. My anxiety and joy
dwelt in the cave of darkness, turning its back to the world
from the beginning of the time and way before the dawn of my existence.
Since view from this, where I came this far without the problems
that beyond my capacity to cope with, is admirable. Although I am
standing at the edge of the cliff it can be said that it’s a great blessing
to me and a privilege to watch the red glow of the setting sun.
How's your bottom line working out?
Have you checked it's progress today?
Is it dipping and diving like the markets
Is it drooping to your utter dismay?
Some are quite big, some are small
Each one has a place in society
They all possess that irresistible charm
So there's no need for any anxiety!
Now take me for instance, I like 'em all
But someone should restrict the sound
At times it can be very destructive
Rumbling and shaking the ground!
There's not a more alluring sight
Than a bottom with a great swing and sway
It's actually quite entertaining to watch
But be careful to stay out of it's way!
How's your bottom line working out?
Are you happy with what trails behind
If you are, then you should feel quite fortunate
To be blessed with a fine bottom line!
© Jack Ellison 2014
—For the candlelight glows all night through—
For you walked on this path
must I go, too, on this path?
By the side of the pathway I saw the brilliant colored blossoms,
the color that delights the eyes of passersby. On the pathway
I smelled the full of sweet-scent from the blooms, the scent
that fascinates the wayfarers.
On the farther side of the pathway, I saw a flock of sheep
move on the pastureland grazing. And by my feet, I saw
the stream of clear water where the ripened spring
wafting on it, and the young fish swim in a shoal.
Under the moonbeam in the wood, I tasted the sweet wine
that refreshing nightly breeze has brought to me. I drank
the luscious wind that moderately intoxicates and brings
my mind to walk on air. I hear the soft whisper
that reminisces the delight bygone days.
But now, I am utterly worn out.
Because the loneliness afflicted on me for tens of thousands of years
causes an irresistible yearning for you, because the sadness that piled
and grown for hundreds of thousands of years beats on my heart,
I should like rolling over and pounding the ground, I feel much
like tearing my heart out and crying.
Still I have to go? Yet I have to advance?
An infant dead in yesterday decays
in the mother’s bosom.
For I will cast all my precious possessions away,
for I promise that I would behave nicely,
for I swear that I will bury all my sweet memories
that is in my heart, please, let me be as I am.
Must I go? Being pushed and dragged,
must I go? Against my own will,
though it’s only a beginning.
Touch of the Spirit
Touched by this unseen breath
That hovered over a shapeless abyss
My understanding
Stretches - reaching for
This tantalizing scent of divinity
And a fluttering touch
This dove of prophetic mystery.
Cravings carved from aspirations
Foreshadow an anointed reverie
When musings beget beatitudes
Like a sigh rustling leaves
Restless perfection ascends
On amazing wings
From a fire that never burns
To trace a silhouette
Of elusive answers
Coming into focus
For my near-sighted eyes
On shafts of newborn light.
The unselfish redeeming heart
Descends in loving nudges
Of hallowed serendipity
Planting seeds of whimsy
Possibility
From contemplation
Freed from judgements
And twirling paths of tarnished opinions
Intentional inspiration
Flows from fleshless wind and fire
Like an irresistible sneeze
To foreshadow resolutions
Glimmering through far off mists
Where notes wait for me
Words clamor to speak rhymes
Colors step forward from shadows
Begging for artistry
Laboring for birth.
Touched by this breathless sigh of longing
Only visible
In the alluring aromas of the divine
My timeworn steps of a threadbare dance
Fall away
Pulled into perfect synchronization
By an ever gracious goodness
Reason fades into faith
Uniting me with love
Beloved teacher, divine star.
.