Obscure Poems

The Haunting Gaze

Once upon a woeful early December night nigh,
Who am I, in this fateful time of scry’s reprise?
Over many a quaint reminisce of my ghostly past,
Suddenly, feel eyes piercing again, with no end.
I looked around, to no avail; my time has end.
 I turned and saw darkness cast.

As I went out in the dreary night, I

My Turbulent Calm

I see the wind
And hear the sun
And when it hurts 
I have such fun
I know not when
But the where is sure
The reasons are clear
Though fully obscure
Thoughts I suffer
The long night through
Bring such comfort
How is this true
Confusion reigns
Within thoughts clear
And peace so far
And yet so near
I can feel it
Though I’m completely numb
My mind subtracts
To find the

Obscure Oxymoron

Inherently people are prone to pry 
Wherever there is more than meets the eye. 


Black and white, by patent definition, 
Dazzle in latent opposition.
Byproduct of a shady interplay - 
Panoply of 50 hues of grey. 

The contrast between black and white 
Is not as trite as day and night. 
In former days they harmonised 
On

Obscure Personages of Life

OBSCURE LIFE CHARACTERS

Hero
Your terror is palid..
fear is your greatest gesture!


Soldier
your loneliness
is greater than death...
smaller than an enigma,
a data..!

COMMANDED
The bigger the well
from the horror,
more exposed to
subordinate...

THIEF
eternal processor
of other people's gestures..
overeacting prophylaxis
poorly provided,
usurper of
compromising crumbs,,,

NOZZLE
verbose word
among deaf...
brilliant gesticulator
among blinds...!

The Power of Poetry

I Climbed rocks winged with words, 
and paint beauties on my path, 
invade palaces unhindered, 
bearing arms welling from this frame.
I draw the sword from the scabbard, 
piercing dictators with a dagger, 
I cut their cables by this craft, 
and watched their fickle frame subdued. 
I soar like eagle in my thoughts, 
coruscating gleams attending,

Only the Obscure Is Sure

Which man is ever secure,
When he’s no longer obscure 
Or sticks to Normal Strife
While it’s a New World of knife
Or hangs to Clean Lifestyle
Amidst pressures from Dirty Guile
Or weird aches has none to cure
Showing that he’s been The Pure?

Who, indeed, has been intact:
A public figure, No Tact?
Who doesn’t know he can sink
Or in the limelight

Obscure

Trees shrouded by fog 
are cut off from sight or view, 
as green turns to gray.

Time Obscure

The tick along of time at different pace,
quantify measures to compare the maze.
For little relevance when dressed in vain,
pushing limits to every little single gain.
Time of sleep calls silently the eternal bliss,
soft gleams in that image of a gentle kiss.
The longest day in locked up securities,
hours of ever growing maturities.
Riding the beast of burden in

In An Obscure Galaxy

The aristocratic Martian delicately kissed her hand
  She blushed, as only an alabaster Venetian can
He ushered into his supersonic cab
  Endearing himself with a superlative gift of gab

Away the two flew to an obscure galaxy
  They dined on poached protoplasm and astral puree
But when it was time to pick up the tab

Obscure S Words

Sialoquent

This speaker is a renowned gent.
When calm, he is quite eloquent;
when excited, he’s sialoquent.
My advice to you may sound blunt:
wear a face shield if you sit down front.


tending to spray saliva when speaking



		 Snickersnees

Chocolate peanut candy lover Jimmy Gees
called a toll-free number for some Snickersnees.
Long-bladed knives arrived and made poor Jimmy sad.
Some bite-sized Snickers surely

Lachesismwish

The desire to be struck by disaster,
Or it’s just a thought.
Nobody knows what the story of my mind is,
Something that even makes me haunt.

The impulse of being in a plane crash,
It is always on my mind.
These deductions will help you see
That I’m nothing but just a fiend.

In search of a kink in the smooth arc

Lachesism

The desire to be struck by disaster,
Or it’s just a thought.
Nobodies know what the story of my mind is,
Something that even makes me haunt.

The impulse of being in a plane crash,
It is always on my mind.
These deductions will help you see
That I’m nothing but just a fiend.

In search of a kink in the smooth arc

Dreams Not Yet Obscure

The tender little hands have no toys to play,
frail fingers draw doll’s crude faces 
on broken soil of neglect, dry as bone.
The famished face doesn’t know
how the dance of the summer rains feels,
for it’s flooded in the torrent of tear.

The colors of sunset on the sinking sky,
the hues of remote rainbow spectrum
melt away in the

Endure Impure and Obscure

Endure Impure and Obscure

Evidently we are required to endure,
Results of pollution caused by impure;
While we wreath,
Hard to breath,
So we have hidden it or made obscure.

Jim Horn

Once Obscure Rain Evaporates

F-elt
R-apture's
E-normous
D-elight
E-agerly
R-emains
I-n
C-heer's
K-een

J-oy
A-s
M-irthful
E-motion
S-imply

B-rings
R-emarkable
A-nd
D-ivine
L-aughter
E-asing
Y-our

M-ind
O-nce
O-bscure
R-ain
E-vaporates

Topic: Birthday of Poet Frederick James Bradley Moore II (July 07) 
Form: Vertical Monocrostic

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