Long Perpetual Poems
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Self's true calling candidly bared,
frisson so sweet as two souls paired.
Ardent vows so fondly prepared,
'fore gathered kin, pure love declared.
Convinced myself you deeply cared,
words and deeds, ardour implicit.
Frisson so sweet as two souls paired,
adoration was explicit.
Have endured perpetual Hell,
savour timbre of fling's death knell.
Entombed within accursed cell,
reduced to lifeless, hollow, shell.
Nostalgic urge obliged to quell,
break the curse of pain infernal.
Savour timbre of fling's death knell,
this day henceforth, hope's eternal.
Transition 'tween two states still baffles; scattered memories all that survive.
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8 syllables per line (except for the final line) - checked with howmanysyllables.com
A-A-A-A-A-B-A-B scheme as per contest rules
5 November 2017
For the "Rhyme Time II" contest, sponsored by Laura Loo.
(1st Place)
roses and roses around
unveiling scarlet drops
echoing voices where
raindrops fall
a rally of imperfection
painted into ..
tapped touches
sudden whirling whispers
secretively drew blood
prickly feistiness thriving in
haze spun surroundings..
twinkling doves suffocating in
an angelical sisyphus halo
tender moonlight bringing
an eunoia swiftest remnant
nemesis against armies
of withering shadows..
ebullient blooming daises
manipulating fluorescent beauties
with a frantic fabricated aurora
in a frantic peony mixture
luxurious mystery somehow
reminiscing rumbling
engraved doom..
aroused slithering vines
piercing whilst communicating
spitting needles
crystalline skies snickering
above lands full of
pitiful peonies..
but..
sparkling flutter butterflies
once whispered to me
a soft hymn lullaby;
when ethereality our nature
becomes brutal uncomforting rays
whilst enchanting asters
disguise hiding the
unavailing daises ..
stars, dimmed
dwelling in perpetual
solitary cycles shewing
forth agony in pitfalls of clouds..
fragile sagacity dandelions
parched evermore
darkness grasped a bud
n plucked it from weary soils..
shall it come a time
to flee
Moments in digression passed,
Timeless time spent, misspent,
The path of life on crossroads muddled,
Reason withheld, judgement befogged.
Encountering the hurdles abound,
Paving way with all his might,
Stumbling, rising, mounting, soaring,
The serpentine course of life meandering.
Failing each moment, desires unfulfilled,
Climbing the ladder, stumbling on each rung,
Foundering, alighting; the being in hardships stuck,
Each loss a reminder, each fall a blow.
The mind, the intellect failed to respond,
All seemed lost, all appeared drowned,
Drowned in the ocean deep; sorrows profound,
The darkest clouds, no silver lining discerned.
Nor amity, nor seclusion, no solace accompanied,
Unfathomable grief manifold heightened,
Hapless being in vain thus strived,
All recourse failed, all paths hence sealed.
Whence burdened life trammelled reason,
Once an erudite, no more a sagacious being,
Thence an angel, a Heaven-sent soul came to light,
All dolour, all obstacles paved way.
For a path of Faith, of Surrender, of Love,
Love unconditional, an indubitable truth,
The ego surrendered on Lotus-feet,
The being’s shaking hand held and clasped.
A Force manifested deep within,
Casted a light with alacrity filled,
The being, the earthling once in darkness lost,
Presently an exuberant, an enlightened soul.
The perpetual, the eternal extant truth,
The Divine Will prevails!
The credence, the gratitude deepens with moments passed,
Unshaken remains THE FAITH!
Kids bullied him; he did not have one friend,
and hollow were his teachers’ words to him.
Perpetual anxiety can bend
the troubled mind; his thoughts grew more than grim.
They mushroomed, and they spiraled next into
sick fantasties – a strange kaleidoscope
of wicked things that he was going to do,
for no one saw or tried to help him cope.
One day he showed up, but not just with one
of his dad’s guns. Cacophony he brought
as peers, chaotic, all began to run.
There reigned hysteria as students sought
safe havens! As he chased some down the stairs,
he grinned, “Now MY Apocalypse is theirs.”
Sept. 25, 2017 For John Hamilton's Eight word challenge -4 Poetry Contest
THESE 8 WORDS used: HYSTERIA KALEIDOSCOPE PERPETUAL CHAOTIC
CACOPHONY APOCALYPSE SPIRALED HOLLOW
If tomorrow never comes
may love at least confess its deeds
beneath a glittering star welcomed by night's deep exaltations
which offers a bond under Heaven's eternal sky
pledged and pressed into pulsating heartbeats from each kiss
Enslaved and tethered to this star of lovers
so we may fill our soul with soft throbbing tremors
of timeless tenderness, causing eyelids to close
in search of love's infinite realm of misty lush language
which stirs vibrant tongues into fervent flames
of fantasy fulfilled by glorious desires of beautiful boundaries
we crossed beneath this star's moment of breathlessness
when its bright flames crossed the dark sky
like a burning match, until it was gone
leaving our names etched on its fading tail
as a silent presence of perpetual purity
of our love confessed
11/10/20 contest There's a star with my name on it
His fingertips traced my lips and lightly brushed
my cheek until I sensed the warmth of a blush.
Our last night would be spent with flames of fire
in passion's romance, I was consumed with desire.
In the soft glow of candle light, we undressed,
and the sweetest words of love, we confessed.
My blue gown of silk and lace, fell to the floor
I eagerly moved closer, needing so much more.
On this full moon night, how quickly time flies.
At my side he sleeps while tears fall from my eyes
If stardust wishes could keep him here with me
I would be a perpetual believer in celestial fantasy.
My heart whispered devout words, softly spoken.
When he opened his eyes, our passion was awoken.
Our last night was intimate and as sweet as a rose
At last, we slumbered til morning, in love's repose.
September 26, 2020
The Night of Passion and Desire
Sponsored by: Faraz Ajmal
Twas the night before Christmas I went shopping suits,
As shoes looked rat-eaten, needed also warm boots;
Sales girls, in malls displayed suits in variety,
Blown up cost and lean purse grew my anxiety...!
Malls are looters, I thought, like the fox and sour-grapes,
Have proprietors, owing greed, have become apes?
In cool colors and satiny shine they sell soul,
Counting cash at the cost of the poor is their goal...!
Textile showrooms, as less showy, could be better,
They might not put me a perpetual debtor;
Varieties, there could be more, in cost less,
After all, to grace all seasons I need good dress...!
American Giant; Peter England; Rouje;
All internationals seemed like dagger and gouge;
Fashions so funny; rough and gunny; yet the cost,
Summing my few notes repeatedly, I was lost...!
Settling to try local stores, I slowly walked,
Shops were numerous like swarms serially stocked;
Each had limits in my sight; in brand or in grant,
Grade low if price less and vice versa if looked grand...!
Some smiled; some giggled; some, like friends made me convinced;
Some, like hooker-women luring actions evinced;
All these shops and show-rooms, as I narrate, not bad,
Within, I know, lack of notes is what made me sad...!
Street textile vendors will help me out, I believed,
By such sure sincere folks I will not be deceived;
With such thoughts, like an athlete I ran to each street,
Challenges like pain and perspiration, I did beat...!
You are late - they said, they pack up by twelve at night,
On Christmas they feast; though fiscally they are tight;
I went back thinking of suits within my wardrobe,
Though they have many holes, they are best in whole globe...!
25 November 2022
The Night Before 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
Shadow Play
While Freud sits at the mind end of the couch phallus in hand
shapes others’ dreams in unspoken imposition ‘must-abation’
analyses abuses his daughter in metaphorical incest projects
his own aggressive sexual drives and neurotic megalomania
Jung after killing the father figure sits with and under shadows
gathers the zenith of clouds rays collects collective conscience
unconsciousness retrieves ancient symbols propagates mythical
archetypes to archetypical conclusions reflects tainted sunshine
He forges gently I surmise poles and vaults of contradictions
opposites polar juxtapositions seemingly un-mutual mysteries
and ponders light and darkness tearing torn apart thus healing
in the complementing contrast of void change completeness
Where Freud posits polymorph perversity bit by sexual bitter
sweet bit in a bid for so called science of mind over matter Jung
morphs perpetual change crafted and cast through a different
lens admits to poetic licence narration oral traditions and growth
******** in mind not of the ***** castrated in fear not envious of
phallic dominance over clitoral defence wombs groomed entombed
by guilt transgression sexual submission shallow **** oral penile
ossification of flaccid resurrection Jung begs and offers to differ
In complex incomplete never-ending search a path from change to
change and beyond dialectical synthesis played enacted in parallel
processes and progressive psychological drama of a different kind
he much kinder more reflective less regressive and adventurous
Lets shadows erect and paint play dance reflect and move on
16th August
This, perhaps, has been my constant duty all through,
My life has been a perpetual stock-taking;
Within which, I, like sparrows, from out of the blue,
Find possibilities of Nestles get shaping...!
The almighty and my kith and kin have been great,
What a life he has given me, it's wonderful!
Who says there's existential resolve and sad fate?
My response-filled life has been rainbow-colorful...!
How delicately each bird pecks its little grain!
How each loyal soul searches for the final goal!
What's, after all, without reaching that godly reign?
To which each one needs to strive with whole heart and soul...!
I sift each sad shadow like a penny not spent,
Each unspent penny has added to my... lone cent...!!!
Perpetual beginnings
avoid uncertain endings.
The day ends
forgetting where it started.
One hour wipes a moving face
you had hung on the wall
thinking to mark a passing,
but there is no passing
only the begun again.
A tiny speck floating between us.
Your eyes flicker over it
tracing its erratic passage.
My features are wiped away
as your mind follows your eyes.
Only another distraction
can bring us back together
into the same space.
Abandoned footprints pressed
into the earth between night and day
Muddy shoes, empty, discarded,
their throats wide open,
mouths mutely appealing,
caught in the act
of escaping both dark and light.
Here, where elderly men sip tea with
the loud ticking of a communal clock,
unshod feet shuffle in white cotton.
Their thoughts begin and end
in the gaps between their words.
Perpetual twilight stirs the milk
in dimming eyes.
Exasperated attendants hunt
for lost shoes,
while the old men
play an invisible game of chess
with specks of awareness
caught as they are
between somnambulant journeys.