Long Saudade Poems
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MELIORISM
This world stings like the scorpion,
And I will not filter in her tears,
This I said because I’m a champion,
Only throwing jabs, it really wears!
Like the faeces of a chameleon,
She stinks in her odourless sheers,
Truly this world bites in oblivion.
And never to be seen in klaipeda _
The elysian sky has deceived me,
Leaving behind their propaganda;
This dark ominous mangles me...
The tenet of retronym in obscurity,
Why we can walk without security.
The quell for fairness may wither,
As we skulk in together!
The gargoyle mole of pains...
Hardship is loose and unfettered;
As we wallow in this sane oneiric,
That never sought for the kindred,
Of conflate moth of harangue...
The axiomatic mild of the youths,
The automatic bunkum in heroism,
The cosplay to this hilarious pains,
The syringe to my bitter whinge.
To saudade for the shadows of life,
A vain wait for meliorism!
When will it get back bitterly better?
When the
glacial sun slips
in softened womb
of the scarlet
spheres at dusk,
yearning for
hibernal rebirth
as a lustrous
morning star,
it radiates
golden beams
like lakes of sunshine,
flowing over
chiming starlit bells
in our hazy haven;
and I scrap
frosted flakes
off the bittersweet
pamphlets that
whisper our names
in the misty winds
of 'Us'.
Calming the
coalesced chaos
within my
infernal pulses,
his warmth drapes
this enchanted soul
with daffodil-
smudged days
of hot cocoa amidst
a wintry wonderland.
If I could bloom
like an arctic
afterglow's heart
on bare alpine trees,
I would only
choose him to be
my daylight-
perfumed violet
scent, evermore.
I can never
stroll away
from the shimmering
silverine memory,
when my muse's
trust breathed
hailstorm's poesy in
my solstitial lungs
and kissed the
fractals of a bruised
poet's spirit.
Dreaming of yuletide,
I achingly yearn
to become the
silken apricity of
those soft lyrics
that swing in his
thundersnow thoughts
and frostbitten flesh,
re-writing the jaggery saga
of twin-sanguine-lovers
in beige brushstrokes
of foggy 'We'.
Sometimes,
I forsake to
surrender and
ask for a peaceful
nod from the
'Lord of Soulmates',
can I be the
honeysuckle ink
for my beloved's
watercolor feather,
always nurturing
the snowy twists of
our tale within fate's
untold wisdom?
When I desire
to wander in
black-iced myths of
insatiable agony,
will he become
my bejeweled healer
and fight off those
sombre silhouettes
of Jack Frost's
saudade, like a samurai?
For, I take him
as the gift of
my last wish,
forever inhaling
the chilly secrets
of our lantern-
lives in my
subconscious visions,
that keep me
alive upon
crestfallen sleets
of intuitive icicles;
I want to live forever,
in his pearly eyes' abode,
which coruscates
with glossy lustre
of fireflies and
makes me flutter
my hiemal
white wings like a
spellbound fairy in
grey-orchid sonatas.
SAUDADE
Crowd of cumulus cotton clouds float and fly
on cerulean sky welcoming Autumn.
Scorching Summer fled, I expected your return.
You didn’t turn up.
On last Autumn you bade bye on promise of being back soon.
One year passed away yielding so many sunrises.
I can neither solace myself nor hope further for your visit.
Everything exists as it is, in own respective place.
Your throne in my heart still awaits to greet you
Romantic reminiscences roaming in my dreary dream.
Ruthless Truth haunting me: You are not here.
02/10/19
Third Place
'Poems titled SAUDADE' Contest by Edward Ibeh
Saudade for friends I have lost
as I get older
I lose more people
every year
more people I knew
have died moving on
and I mourn their lost friendship
wished I had been
a better friend for them
and knew them better
and with the corona virus
spreading around the world
I will lose so many more
in the coming year
as the virus spreads
its malignancy far and wide
I lost my father due to cancer in 1985
and my sister
due to a freak illness in 2007
and my mother
due to Alzheimer’s in 2005
and my father-in-law as well in 2007
Demel Tucker
high school debate teammate
dead of HIV in 1995
Julian Bartley and his son
died in a terrorist bombing
in Nairobi in 1998
Jon Weber college roommate
dead due to prostate cancer
in 2000
Paul Simon friend from the visa line
dropped dead of a heart attack
in 2004
Ted Halstead
one of my best bosses
died of heart attack in 2007
Chris Richard
one of my former bosses
from my days in Bangkok
dropped dead of a heart attack
shortly before we were due
to have lunch in 2014
and so many others
I have lost
along the way
and soon there will be
so many more
as I get old in the corona era
Poema do empoderamento
Você,
mulher
ou homem,
Creia em ti
Rainha, ou rei,
És a luz! És o que é!
Inspire!
Pela voz quente e ardente;
Da saudade ou do desejo ardente;
Surge a inspiração dos poetas;
Do soldado ou do atleta;
E de toda a gente!
Inspire!
Pela voz violenta e forte da verdade;
Libertando as palavras inquietas;
Pela voz conselheira e nobre;
Assim surge a inspiração que vence;
Que extraordinariamente supera dificuldades.
Inspire
Pela voz da distância;
Que separa do que se quer;
Do que se deseja ardentemente;
Pela voz colorida da esperança;
Pela voz da ternura enriquecida;
Pela voz duma doçura apetecida;
Que surge a inspiração que vence!
AH!
Não se negue a inspirar!
O que seria de toda a gente;
Se esta voz tivesse fim!
beneath the gnarled b r a n c h e s,
a photo rests within my clutch.
time d
r
i
p
s
like h o n e y e d amber;
i long for vanished visions,
saudade, a muffled heartache.
s
moonlight streaks through tangled trees; h
a silken s i l h o u e t t e shrouds my aura. t
a gentle caress grazes my shoulder, o
memories of her touch f l u t t e r like m
the past entangles with the present;
the scent of f a d e d jasmine lingers.
as the night drones on softly,
cold air wraps around my wistful longing.
poison ivy clings to crumbling cemetery walls.
i look to the heavens for answers,
as the sky weeps and squalls in erupting solar storms.
her scattered ashes settle like snowflakes,
softly blanketing the remnants of forgotten joys,
cradling memories like delicate g l a s s.
the red thread of family ties is now seve /
/ red;
the roots asphyxiate on generational sorrow.
if the olive trees knew what
became of hands that planted them,
their oil would become t
e
a
r
s.
time’s relentless hand ticks on,
while decaying hearts beat like distant d r u m s,
resounding in the silence of cursed solitude.
Some poems are poured
when a poet loses someone,
so those who cannot write,
feel words mirroring their souls.
Since the betrayal of your blind vision,
I've been roaming in realms of broken reflections.
In your aquarium existence,
I've let my emotions sink to the bottom.
Remember, when I was your first thought,
a jewel in your celebrated crown -
now I'm just a pebble in a dirty puddle.
It all started with a camera flash.
With an obsession of clicks,
we captured an anthology of amorous portraits.
But now our love is a fading photograph,
forgotten in the sun,
edges curling, colours bleeding,
where only faint faces remain.
A butterfly romance,
becoming more fragile over time.
Vivid scarlet hearts, once beating rapidly,
now echo in distant blurs
and all I feel are the saddest sighs.
In seasons of saudade,
I've become an abandoned snapshot
of an erased existence.
Yet I still yearn for the taste of your lips,
to break this haunting hunger.
Helpless, lost in a desert storm,
footprints left behind,
dissolve with the wind,
each particle floating away,
forever misplaced - disjointed.
Memories become like starlight spirits,
as silhouettes and shadows
dance under a moonlight sonata,
slowly burning away all
traces of permanence,
so all that's left behind is an imprisoned moon,
clouded in a dark hymn sky.
All my eyes seem to envision
is a maroon monsoon.
Now my fingers are too afraid
to create another photograph -
as some memories bring back
a waterfall of sorrows.
Pierce
this
vale of
far darkness
with the flame that lives
within your ever moving soul.
The wish of a star can never be told in silence
but if they could speak I'd imagine they'd wish upon a soul that someone might tell them
'sweet star burn bright at night! Burn free and clear and show us the way to our own heart's desires'… at least I can dream it that way for my milky way.
And if the stars wondered what I might wish upon them, I'd whisper so softly 'I want to know how brightly you burn up close and happily do call me Icarus that I, too may meet my fate at the hands of unbridled joy!
Written: March 22, 2025, for contest sponsored by Craig Cornish
***********************
In the heart of my kitchen spices exude their aromatic allure
a harmonic blend of flavors coddiwomples mute grief. . .
cimmerian saudade in emeritus pickles, a nostalgic taste
longing for a whiff of jasmine s p e c k s. . .
the acridity of blue cheese, the poignancy of bygone days. . .
lavender aromas snip from vessels of proclivity
hidden under an ominous cloud of r e m o r s e
on par with brimstone-soaked steam,
harmony strives to alleviate concealed pain
pleading palms to purge passed-over prose
as seclusion seeps still as a slow-spreading sickness…
Scathed by sadness solitude simmers silently,
In this mixture, marvelous magic manifests for mending
spicy ambrosial nuances partake in a gracious w a l t z
pain intermingling with delight
a buffet embellished with dishes of acrid herbs,
the core character intertwines with previous fails
textures and fragrances intertwine
to create a tapestry rich in pain and d e l i g h t,
harmonizing sadness and joy in life's tangled web.
My eyes shut and my mind drifting
I hear your footsteps approaching in the night
A foolish heart races with anticipation
Through a time warp
Beyond ache’s hoops
Back to a moment caught in time
Where we were young
In love and carefree
O to go back as easily
Adrift in the lagoon of vibrant memories
As past and present mesh and meld
Indifferent alike indistinguishable
Alluring and most beguiling
A relentless wave of nostalgia
Rocking swaying swirling
Washing me to shore
Breathless beaten
Unhinged dazed bewildered
In an overwhelming trance
As my heart beats wild
AP: 1st place 2021, 3rd place 2021
Submitted on February 6, 2019 for contest POEM TITLED SAUDADE sponsored by EDWARD IBEH - RANKED 2ND