Dressed up in absolute silence,
Empowered in wonderful quietness,
Heard in royal toughness,
and moved in hushed stillness.
The beautiful darkness I hold in my heart,
I put on my quiet voice in the loudest muteness,
Nurturing the miraculous motion in the fiery mind,
A cinematic dream is growing up in blackness.
Fading into the shifting sand and pure tenderness,
The dark melody plays in tragic paradise,
I am free now, and freedom is my company,
Accompanied by my glittering rusty iron sword.
I am a slow-motion darkness,
I am a sunny bezel-less glass,
I am sliding like water,
Still holding the lineage of the warm blood.
I carry blackness between maybe and once upon a time,
The beauty of motion lives in tremendous calm.
Remarkable reticence deserves more murkiness,
As it paves the way to the beautiful mystery.
Cabernet wings fluttering
in a house of mirrors.
The rotunda of cheers,
just below the lip,
above the murkiness
of a hospitality sip.
Double dip nights,
halfway through
conversation of the past;
the sate of emotional till;
tears flutter unexpectedly.
Wings of quietude,
coalesce inside the glass,
humoring an aunt and niece.
Chasing away this insect-bird,
this apparition of Green Valley.
Kin covers the glasses
with smiles, lips and palms.
Harrowing moments attach
themselves to memories,
cleverly; the moment itself
vanishes, or does it remain
an infinity ring,
a nimbus of forever light
and love in a holy place.
mystique imagined but fuzzy to even the empath
imagination on ready-alert, willing to expand herself
Rustic readiness, regaling reflection to relax
Remembering other moments of mystical murkiness
Ordinary becoming extraordinary before my eyes
Rising to the conclusion I do not know everything
The gado* crashes past sweethearts'murals,hearts already broken,
Vapor groans like weary wraiths of last day' pledges,
Skins glow with Vaseline,faces lit by deceptive affection-
Who dares to feel?
Her fragrance wafts blending with metal breath,
We exchange looks,the calm betwixt us murmurs like power lines,
Outdoors,level plots fade in a murkiness of dirt and nostalgia-
I almost speak
But at Langlaagte* too soon she's gone with the throng,
Only the echo of her kindness marks my seat,
I scroll through unfamiliar smiles,phony love returns-
Between stations,hurt.
Gado--South African slang for train
Langlaagte--A train station in Johannesburg
Ghostly screams and unseen hands rouse,
with no peace, even for a field mouse
in an unearthly old tilted haunted house.
Creeping spider quickly cowers and ebb
into the murkiness on its old, tattered cobweb.
The silken-midnight cat's shadow came on silent paws,
paused on the stairs and sharpened its murderous claws.
There was a knock-knock-knocking at the door.
At the top of her lungs, the witch, with a roar,
clenched her wrist and screamed. Is that you, Thor?
Thor opened the door howling. Where are you keeping
the wanted children that are still sleeping.
SUBMERSED*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
submersed
under cerulean layers of sleep
I drift, like plankton, unanchored…
GloFish, protists,
underwater atolls,
sea dragons, shipwrecks
moving with the undercurrent
of water drenched in sapphire moonlight
far above the waves,
a single fixed eye, unblinking,
whirls with the horizon’s arc
a glimmer, an omen, or a target glimpsed
disappeared in a moment~
and the undulating, briny sea,
the murkiness of an unfamiliar shore,
and
the beautiful luster of a sleep-darkened sky.
There is a darkness always lurking around.
Concealed, but ready to pounce, swoop
you downwards rapidly and keep you there.
Hold you captive in a hole, in darkness.
There is a darkness called depression,
a mental illness that affects your wellness
for it invades your mind and body, distorts
your thoughts, numbs senses and feelings.
Darkness, you are not welcome anymore
for you cannot seduce me anymore.
Yes, you did so many times in the past
when I was lost, broken, easily swayed.
Those times you targeted and took me
with you, down, down, down in the dark.
You held me hostage, your force kept me
down, no matter how hard I tried to get up.
I was able to escape a few times, but you
kept recapturing me with your black web,
finding myself subdued in dark spell and
looking for a light in the dark to get out.
The last time you captured me was the
murkiness, the longest stay I had and the
hardest struggle I had to get out for I kept
falling back again and again in the murk.
That was a long, long time ago and now
you are restrained to stay away from me.
You have too many faces, one being the
depression I totally confronted, goodbye!
It's either too hot or too cold here,
the thermostat in hell must be broke again.
Maybe this is Purgatory
i'm told the Governor of purgatory
can't fix anything and he dithers a lot.
Someone has turned down
the dimmer switch in my mind -
hard to see my thoughts.
Foods a bit stodgy
and there's a shortage of porta-potties.
It’s quite heavenly here on the weekends
and during most 'happy hours',
otherwise there's much murkiness.
I’m driving down a four lane highway
squinting into the foggy rain,
now I see a road sign;
well look at that
it says: 'Welcome to Ohio'.
“I wandered lonely as a cloud” - William Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as my grief
Refused denial, never left
Swept over me with no relief
A distant soul alone, bereft.
Meandering, lost in plain sight
A wingless mourner seeking flight.
And yet within a heart still stirred
To waken memories not lost
A still, small voice, just barely heard.
Cold tears the melting of love’s loss
As day turns into darkened fear
Of emptiness and no one there.
Her scent no longer in the air
Her presence fading way too fast
Her touch alive in dreams unfair.
I slumber sadly in our past
Consumed, it seems, with being there
Unable to be free of here.
For love it seems cannot abide
The painful act of moving on
As loving’s feelings still reside
Within the heart from dusk till morn
For in the murkiness between
A glimpse of her may still be seen.
©9/18/2022
I Wandered Lonely as -----Challenge Poetry Contest
Farewell, au revoir, goodbye, convivial summer.
The day is late now, and the breeze is warmer.
A vacant ocean-side barricaded motel.
Wild geese are soon flying in lines as well.
Vacation homes drop their literate barricades.
This rich sweeping green tone will soon fade.
In this season, buds and fruits are abundant.
Melons and garden load are ardent.
Tanned skin, sailboats, and folded linen suits.
When the world is more positive than disputes,
Pollen irritates the sinuses of sensitive patients.
Now they've fled to the farm, the coast nascent.
Stop their passing endeavor at escape.
The Ferris wheel in LEGOLAND is agape.
The Cape no longer trades in quirkiness.
A glum family descends from the murkiness.
To welcome their offspring back from camp.
Mature year, scarlet maple boughs, raised scamp.
Sunburned shoulders disappear at summer's end.
Goodbye to the peasant's headband.
Goodbye storms and dirty white shoes.
Goodbye summer friends, pants, shorts, and cruse.
Farewell, tennis peculiar desire to be difficult.
Farewell picnics, ice tea, and plane trips, munificent.
Written: August 19, 2022
Heaven is both above and below our feet, so vividly recall that ground likes feeling your knees and breeze likes spinning your hair. By Poet
cogitates on rousing heaves my treasure
glorious sunrise becomes murky to pink
as the sun sets the sky turns gold
my brooding nearness to daisies and cellos
a rainbow arched across far wing amid rain and sun
overcast gloomy and sluggish
the gist of the nature mesmerism
detected illusions covered quietly
blooms of the wilderness in the woods
cognitive murkiness that dims fanciful notion my treasure.
Written: March 6, 2022
1st Place contest winner
Form I - Imagism - New Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Tug a bit on earthly muck, shakes us all;
Hell's murkiness makes the eternal fall.
Pick up pure mud, feel its wonder and awe.
Our cosmos burns but organics are rare;
though carbon abounds, exists everywhere.
Light springs into life, if water is there!
Grab damp dark soil, same stuff in a flower.
Musing trite thoughts drains our mental power,
try to wake before your faint final hour.
Some sculpt Buddha's fingers touching the earth,
always connecting to soil has true worth.
From the moist muck comes all life and rebirth.
Our world will rock us asleep and awake;
ups and downs, storms and quakes, for goodness sake.
Accepting all flaws, what will we forsake?
Monorhyme in tercets 15 lines 114 words
Inspired by John Milton's Paradise Lost,
Astrophysics and Buddhist philosophy
Sunshine effused into my cup,
nebulous…with vanilla silk.
Stir-and-sip splendid sunrise.
Murkiness vanishes, supplanted
by cheeriness and clarity.
1/31/2022
It's chilling outside, and it's shivery.
Wary of the downpour, she remains mostly,
Under the forlorn tree, similar to a statue,
Eyes, the cloud of sunset sparkles too.
I view murkiness from afar off the shimmer of Orion.
Our spirit imperativeness conveys me to the horizon,
Stars brushing and sky sparkle are wonderstruck.
Same as sculpture mold on a wall that you can pluck.
Her attractiveness is obvious to me, in complete calm.
Or when she cries in the middle of a mountain balm.
I'm ready to perceive her beauty in her heart and mind.
Inside the moles on her face, she blemishes as a hind.
Everything she is, or everything she shows.
When the night is ending, it expands and grows.
I understand I'm depicting my woman purposely.
There's a ton of things we don't even see,
In a world with everything we crave, yet disagree.
Need to be cherished, ensured, and in security.
Written: November 28, 2021
Wonderstruck Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
Quick like lighting, she is flown
To a darkness
With waters of murkiness
To a pebbly zone
To her practically unknown,
Nowhere near her a rescuing phone,
To be physically tortured for deeper groans
And psychologically for disquieting moans.
Now, she is mortally afraid
Of even the dusts into her eyes blown
And has herself made
To seem into a furnace thrown:
Increasingly picking the sounds of her melting bone
And unnerving scenes of one crushed alone.
Gosh! The restless voice of her sister,
Not here,
Could 've been an alerting megaphone
And that of boyfriend Peter,
Still out there,
A panicking microphone!
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