Outshining Poems | Examples

the blinding age of enlightenment

When neutron stars collide they 
unleash immense energy plasma 
jets, creating conditions extreme 
enough to produce heavy elements
like gold, A single collision can 
generate gold equivalent to several 
Earth masses, outshining entire 
galaxies in the process; 
An armageddon of brilliance 
may well one day fill the heavens 

                      the blinding age of enlightenment 

in the end as neutron stars collide ~ I fear a great healing old nick

hell shalt get a golden sarcophagus ~ several thousand miles thick 

said god to satan arc welding his eyes ~ with plasma rich alchemic

Per Paparazzi

Watching & waiting while in hiding
and faking
Views for the taking but unaware
what is waiting
Freezing & shaking but is it fear or
its weather?
Snapshots for the taking posing for 
them cuz it's clever

Good best & better to shy away
from the faking
Shade is made by the sun but it's
above what it's making
Shaking what has been rooted
leaving behind hollow winds
Seeds will grow from your efforts
toward the sky lose or win

Unoriginal in sin as we have seen
this before
Jumping the broom of timelines
looking for knobs on the door
Turning in bed with a snore as if
you've slept through the test
Sleepy & lost in a dream snoozing
on good better best

Picture a snap at its best frozen
in moments of time
Painting a picture in jest with a
stoic face like a mime
Mimicking raps like a mime with
painted face like a canvas
The dry humor so wet that only
fish understand it

Above thee underhanded so keep
the slightest of hand
Close to the vest like a secret 
ducking birds on their Stan
Peacock with a colorful stance
with truth outshining the lies
Your essence shines like the sun
& this is what is despised

CAUGHT IN THE SCENE

On a freaky Friday night 
Right in the scene 
I was caught drinking 
My father's beer 
Smoking his cigarettes.
While listening  curiously 
My parents favorite song. 

They traveled for a tour 
They're not coming soon
I was dancing and drinking
Smoking and shouting 
Singing a loud the lyrics 
With all energy brimming 
Outshining the original artist of the song.

Suddenly I felt a hard knock 
It was my parents 
Was frightened instantly 
My mom exclaimed 
Like father like son
My dad screaming 
Boy you're too young for this.

CAUGHT IN THE SCENE

On a freaky Friday night 
Right in the scene 
I was caught drinking 
My father's beer 
Smoking his cigarettes.
While listening  curiously 
My parents favorite song. 

They traveled for a tour 
They're not coming soon
I was dancing and drinking
Smoking and shouting 
Singing a loud the lyrics 
With all energy brimming 
Outshining the original artist of the song.

Suddenly I felt a hard knock 
It was my parents 
Was frightened instantly 
My mom exclaimed 
Like father like son
My dad screaming 
Boy you're too young for this.

Boy

Intriguing hollow log
Boyhood, sunshine, smiling
Slippery, slimy frog

Summer days whiling
On undulating grass -
Beauty so beguiling

Cloudy memories, alas,
You, outshining fog -
My bonnie lass

Anemone

Amid colorful roses, and lovely dahlias, within a garden,
I found my space in a corner, a wildflower bred by no one, 

Though my mistress wished to uproot me as a weed, I was firmly grounded.
My roots so tangled didn’t come off easy, and I refused to budge an inch.

So, I was allowed to be there amid the other plants.
When she watered her garden, I absorbed some aqua molecules like a sponge.
When she manured her plants, I drew nourishment like a famished child.

When butterflies befriended lovely flowers, I stayed silent, 
with a secret craving for an amorous moment. 

When the season came, I burst into bloom, outshining all other flowers.
Yes, I am an Anemone resembling close to Poppy or Dogwood.
On my delicate stem, I am cradled by the lullaby of the wind.
Now I stay so confident, smile so easily, and laugh without care.
I can grow where I like, you cannot tame me, I am a wildflower…!

The Lake and the Lotus

If I were a lake and you were a lotus
Would you think yourself too small to be noticed?
Or would you open your petals to me
Blossoming boldly and brilliantly
To rival the stars that heaven bestowed us
Outshining them all if you were a lotus?

If I were a lotus and you were a lake
Would you dance with me in the white swan’s wake?
Would you keep me afloat through storm and flood
Would you love me if I were still just a bud
Help me to grow and bloom and partake
In the tenderest touch if you were a lake?

Perpetual Poetry

 “Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love. It will not lead you astray.” Rumi

Life can be an incomplete glossary,
speech a haunting ghost,
in search of a perspicuous poem - 
to express unspoken thoughts.

I remember when she said,

"Cue me poetry"

So, I became her perpetual poet,
engraving sweet soulful words
upon her bitter spiritless lips.

Fate had turned her into the Queen of Darkness,
but my heart glows in the dark.
Together we illuminated like a trillion twinkling stars, 
outshining the enigmatic effervescent moon.

Her essence infused a refreshing presence, 
like morning sunshine after a night of rain.
Slowly she became a pilgrim of my poetry,
and I, a sojourner lost within her soul.

As I wandered through her secret chapters, 
my word weaving revealed her book of scars, 
each drop of ink resembling her tepid tears. 
Each vexatious verse purified through 
a catalyst of catharsis, healed her wounds.

We are like quill and scribe, 
vowels complimenting consonants, 
completing an impeccable vocabulary - 
without her there is no muse.

Christmas Tree

I unbox my faux Christmas tree, a tradition every year,
Adorned with baubles, lights, and festive cheer,
In the living room, presents beneath its boughs,
A holiday aura, a delightful vow.

My daughter opts for a real Spruce so divine,
Decked in finery, outshining mine,
Alpine scent wafts, a winter's sweet reprieve,
Snowy visions, Christmas Eve.

Around the lake on a cool, cloudy day,
Live trees adorned in hues, a picturesque display,
Birds chirp, lively ornaments on display,
Geese, swans, egrets in festive play.

Rain or shine, the tree stands bold,
A beacon of goodwill, a tale untold,
No shining lights, no silvery attire,
Yet, an aura of happiness, a radiant fire.

Wilted Summer Smiles

weary 
Deep in warm wine 
Outshining russet moon 
Glazed in the glow of honey glass 
Gold breeze

Drifting
Along the flood 
Of wilted summer smiles, 
While my sky sings in the fall of
Silence

New Moon

Wandering out of place long since this morn.
Wishing on the moon to just be reborn.
A beginning anew healing past scorn. 
Then came the dawning day ... pushing the clouds away,
And the stars at their play ... to meet the sunny ray. 
About midday with the heavens above 
Was so much more than I ever dreamed of. 
Thanks to the shadows who gave me a shove. 
Reunites a brother ... not unlike the other. 
I, born to another ... she, my midnight mother. 
Am I welcome, like the rose with a thorn,
To be beaming my smile once gone astray?
Outshining darkness, a labor of love 
Risen from deep down no need to smother.

Poetrysoup

Pen over paper

Over your body is a caper

Exhibits a clapper

Twists like a rapper

Rendition of a writer

Your style peps and ponder

Soup that heals not wither

Outshining like a saber

Unleash your power

Power of poetry... in you!

Here And There Again

I'm here again
Checking you out
Missing you again
Calling out

I'm here again
Taking you out
Kissing you again
Chilling out

Here we go again
Thinking where to go
Under the sun again
Outshining and ready to go

There we go again
Hanging on tree top lines
Under the clouds again
Unzipping the borderlines

Our world will never end
Up and down the bend
Left and right we hold so tight
For so much love we'll strongly fight

What the Colours Mean To Me

Azul the color blue which is bright and glimmers like to sea,Reo the deadliest color of them all Blanco a pure color like the stars outshining them all there are many Blends just to be sure but when mixed  it reflects a rainbow you will never forget.

What Is Beauty

“Beauty is skin deep...” – hmm...I guess
at times it is thus; but I have met beauty
seeming, through and through – and have
met beauty that was clearly skinless~a spirit 
radiating, outshining all exterior gloss! So,
what is beauty? Keats thought it truth. I think,
it is just Beauty...needing no other definition
beyond its presence~that is all....

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