Long Languorous Poems
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" Imagine a place where there is beauty, bliss and plentifulness for all. It is nothing short of utopia. Though we are far from realizing it, isn't it thrilling to imagine a version of the world different from the existing one where all disparities will be leveled and happiness and freedom are made the birthright of all? Now such a world is enshrouded in mist. But who can say it won't emerge suddenly from the blue in some distant future"- By Poet
Though, utopia is merely an illusion,
Or a chimera born in the womb of our whims,
I shall take you to a near-utopian land,
Where, peace and beauty blossom like the cherry in spring
And trees grow like the cedars of Lebanon.
Come on, my Love! Let us move to that land,
Where the sun resurrects anew,
Where darkness gives way to light,
And life renews itself every morning.
It is our dreamland paradise or interim utopia.
Let us go into that Garden of Delight.
Look to the East, my love, beyond those crooked hills,
Where poplars grow tall in line
And a gentle breeze susurrates through the foliage of leaves
And wild weeds hem the edges of pathways,
Where bunnies and squirrels hop and jump
And run around whistling bamboo reeds,
Where the laughing cataract leaps down from the rocks
And flow along in silvery rills
Where the languorous breeze plays upon the leaves.
This place has all the beauty and bliss of utopia.
Away from the tumult, far from the bustling crowd
With the pandemonium of the world hushed to serene silence
Let us walk together to that sequestered glade,
Where we shall sit by the side of a rustling stream
And dance across the flowery meadows.
In this place of perennial greenery and sunlit groves
We shall walk hands locked and hearts singing as one,
Till the bright day gives way to a dusky night,
Inhaling night air in scented perfume.
Under the stillness of a star-spangled sky, we shall roam,
Through moon-blanched woods, enigmatic and mysterious
Listening to the sweet whisperings of our soul
And ‘drinking life to the lees’ from the chalice of love
Oh! Come on, let us not tarry….
Let’s move fast to that Utopia!
An angel, he appeared one afternoon -
amazing, amorous, and alluring.
Beguiling her with beautiful ballads,
how splendidly he bewitched her!
Long languorous summer days they lazed
in a field of daffodils
as she lay blissfully in his brawny bronzed arms
looking lovingly into his eyes -
those baby blues with long lush lashes.
Seventeen were they. Their first love it was -
a lovely flirtatious and fabulous first love.
Suddenly, it all just stopped.
Sent away to serve in war,
her sweetheart sadly disappeared with barely a Sayonara.
Several seasons swept away
like brown leaves in September’s breezes.
Studying at school, sometimes she recalled
with longing - the love of her young life
and the boyish glee in his bright blue long-lashed eyes.
Unbeknownst to her, her lost boyfriend
was back from his lonesome barracks
and the bloody battlefields of an awful World War.
Back was he, though limping from a bullet to his leg
and looking for the love of HIS young life.
Seventy-seven years later,
see them sauntering together
in a field of daffodils
situated by a house he built for her -
two lone centenarians
with grown twin sons and seven grand-kids.
Their lasting love was lost but only for a blink
of their long lifetime -
a lifetime of lovely marital bliss
that envelopes them still with bountiful blessings.
March 31, 2022
for My Lost And Found Love Poetry Contest
Sponsor: JCB Brul
I
Seated in a bray were three friends,
On chair,pavement,aisle did they fill.
Merrying,hopping,sharing their advice,
Like the hopping daffodils does in the
hay.
But a languorous serendipity perchanc'd,
And the three in decisions advanc'd.
Sadness to the utmost flew,
Joy opposite in decision yet in the land
drew.
While strife beneath the earth dived,
Making the three friends in separation
thrived.
Life seem'd vague when they unity despised,
And they all did in love's isolation lay.
With no hope of boosted liveliness,
All were bethrot'd to weariness.
II
Then came a fearful bright dawn,
Strecth'd wide in the sky like unto a lawn.
Sadness pierc'd her eyes through the sun,
It seem'd natures plotted against her.
Then said she unto herself like unto a
'street dancer',
Bellowing deep towards the shadow
'mancer'.
"I'll arise and return to joy,
That we along with strife will by unity
coil".
Then she arose and edged to joy her way,
That if she be not in the land then she'll in
the bray.
From afar Joy point'd her gaze like unto a
gun,
With " Is that not sadness...?",laying in
mouth her.
Then she dashed into her arm with
her in her sight,
And both did all their predicaments
recite.
III
The Nightingale often mock'd strife,
"Plumpy belly,disgusting snout", in
Nightingale lies.
Her atmosphere scolded her heartily,
That she ev'n in her dreams dwelt wearily.
Then she too rethink to revisit aged folks,
To at least enchant logs of pending talks.
And if by help they can bail him out,
" If Joy won't,Sadness will";She thought.
Then she picked her way towards Joy
abode,
And for hours she in anxiety rode.
A mile ahead,her eyes sensed steadily,
All in each sight, the three again met
merrily.
And again in the bray were the
three;
But can these really be?
The most dangerous sicknesses are those that make us believe we are well.
Lauren Oliver
sunrise transcends from thousand white moons
enamelling specks of gold over a vast mindscape
untamed ocean, hypnotic in opulence of delight
losing in timeless fathom, all beginnings and ends
In daze of hazel eyes, a pale destiny painted red
concoction of stardust in resplendent phoenix flame
Iconic images in mesmeric limerance of rhapsody
play a subtle movie, in slow tempo, treble with bass.
An entangled world of uncensored thoughts meander
condescending a center of cinematic subconscious
dissembling into a daydream swimming wonderlands
Van Gogh's Starry Nights seducing languorous senses.
a pleasant hangover , still drunk in my weariness,
don't wake me, I'm piqued in amor deliria nervosa*
an everlasting fantasy stretches in kohl of my eyes,
an Illusion of life gasping, or is it death in disguise?
*Amor Deliria Nervosa (or just deliria) is a disease in the fiction series Delirium Trilogy by Lauren Oliver. It is set in a dystopian world where love is considered a disease called Amor Deliria Nervosa, but scientists have invented a cure for it.
18th July 2020
Sponsor Kai Michael Neumann
Contest Name Delirium |
THE WEIGHT OF OUR THOUGHTS
Mind, the supreme gift to humankind is,
Plentiful thoughts criss-crossing whiz;
Enchanted spirits gliding high,
Success triumph when almost nigh!
Gratified the mind, with content filled,
Appeased exuberant gladly thrilled;
Vibrant agile mind dancing sprightly,
Energetic playful the outer selves’ lively!
When crestfallen desolate state of mind,
Languorous listless strolling down the alley blind;
Depressed psyche despondent gloomy,
Anguished being humming songs melancholy!
Strolling with heavy steps or light-hearted trots,
Let’s not carry The Weight Of Our Thoughts!
Describe what you see my love, she queries
A game they often play in the depths of the forest
He replies, Turgid are the woodlands densely they’ve died back
creeping where no life is seen,
between the flowery meadow's cracks
The poplars have shed their leaves leaving violet trunks bare
For it isn’t rare, sun light that shan’t filter thru the canopy
Entrapped is the pale old plant ivy green
However, the white roses striving and yet flutily parade
whilst tolerating the languorous shade
As he describes his innermost inhibitions
without interference or shame
In the distance, expanding their horizons together
Both aware 'tis a harbinger of the end game
Tranquil thoughts
breathing
of slow kissed sights
comforted
in expelling this light
languorous trembled gaze
A mask promising nothing
yet yearning to taste
now pushed aside
Risking this pull
stakes everything
Claims made
forever washing
though tears of ecstasy
now rolling free of
ducted bliss
trailed warmth of
cored beings
exquisite dripping
yets
Serenades of wanting
traveling through blood
as feather breathes
brushed lightness
thieves strength
floating in
washes of joyed right
Unaltered and bare
lured to charm
unhooked to potent need
she is lost
Silkily softness crushed in satin
drawn to slither tight
set free to embrace
crystal screams
shattered
in feathers graced might
Masked
to be nothing
revealed
in breathlessness
Sunlight surfaced at the breach of dawn
It climbed salty rungs to emerge from the sea
When fully risen, what had been spawned?
A molten fireball cast from the dragon's breath,
a firey yawn exhaled in languorous flight
searing tangerine flames across the horizon
Daylight drifted over waking valleys and hills
in dappled luminance of shimmering gold
It danced in pirouettes upon my window sill
and chased shadows from my bedroom wall
until it tumbled on the bed where my love slept
He stirred, I smiled and then wept with emotion
at the passion glimmering in drowsy jade eyes
With each rise and fall of his muscular chest
the heated flush of desire within me burned
Sinewy arms reached out for me...
"Come back to bed," whispered from his lips
and my gown lay puddled upon the floor
I'd had enough of watching sunlight's strolling
for it had stolen too many moments next to him
My toes were cold from morning's chill
but it was not from Winter weather that I quivered
It was time to savor the sweet warmth of love
from his fingertip tracings upon my skin
Word Maneuvers in F Sharp Minor
As it goes, so it goes.
Imperceptibly.
As the languorous lizard soaks in the sun,
It’s fat green belly filled with flies,
You and I will do the same, indeed,
We will find utter solace under a moving cloud,
We will wish for an escape from the piercing onslaught,
We will wish for an end to the pain and abject sadness,
Of daily life on this staggering planet;
But instead, as carnivorous time eats its way forward,
We too will be absorbed into the Beast,
Into which all are eventually swallowed whole,
We will be digested by the darkness.
As it goes, so it goes,
Imperceptibly.
As the languorous lizard soaks in the sun,
You and I will do the same.
We will spend our lives hunting,
And being hunted,
By the masticating microbes of infinite space;
We will all be an ingredient, at last,
In something else’s soup.
And what is our end, honey?
What factors are there in our ultimate demise?
Here, take my hand and let me hold it.
We will soon enter into the room of pillows.
It’s down the dark meandering hallway,
Past the statue of a kneeling Artemis,
Inside, you will find fiery explosions;
That of instant death upon the battlements.
We will be vacant from the universe,
For a second….
As the blooming centrix flower bends,
And waits for pulsing Time to ejaculate,
We will watch its wondrous presentations,
We will lie askew, and count our moles
With trembling erect appendages.
As it goes, so it goes,
Imperceptibly.
The long, languorous
days of summer
have arrived.
Good-bye sweat shirts,
long sleeves and jackets.
Hello shorts and tanks,
bathing suits,
and sundresses.
Bring on the
pool parties!
Break out the grills -
it's barbecue time!
Who wants to
go camping?
I do! I do!
Gather the tent
and sleeping bags.
Don't forget the
fishing poles
and sunscreen.
It's summer time, folks!
Can't you hear
the beach calling
out to you:
"Come and Play!"
"Come and play!"
Frolic in the
waves and build
castles out of sand.
Let your inner
child cut loose and
celebrate summer!
8/4/16
For Ed Ebbs Anacreontic verse 4 Contest