Pavilions Poems

America's Decency's Gone

Where has America’s decency gone
    Long time passing
  All the folks who support Hamas
   would thrill to Auschwitz’ gassings   

  Hamas rapes, burns and slaughters Jews
    Palestinians celebrate these ‘heroes’
  Their American supporters don’t want Jews to fight back
    The number of foes killed will have too many zeroes  

  No matter that Hamas embeds its troops
     in Gaza’s hospitals and schools
  Or that they use human shields
     to pad the numbers killed urban war yields…

  Meanwhile, Hamas blocks food and humanitarian aid
    from ever reaching civilians
  As their fat-cat leaders luxuriate in Qatar
    drinking and dining in pavilions

  Where has America’s moral compass gone
    to support monsters like Hamas…
  Those who scream ‘from the River to the Sea’
    would eliminate each and every Jew ~ Nazi brutality to surpass

Pavilions of Time

"If home is where the heart is and the heart lives in memories, remember that the past was just a second ago".

(Sand Promises)

Just like decor from long forgotten proms,
balloons and crepe left tangled in the sky -
a beachball clings where rafters echoed songs,
and breaths were lost when love became a sigh.
Once tightly held, old promises would fade
like salutations in a book of years,
now yellow with the memories they made
and fragile, like a page-pressed boutonniere.
Yet smiles recall a love-stained rented tux
- the sand you shook from puff sleeves made of lace,
were lost within emotion's melting flux,
while tears of laughter glistened on your face.
    Those pieces of the life we leave behind
    are paths to home for pensive souls to find...

Cricket

On manicured outfields
 seeded and sown,
the middle rolled and closely mown.
End to end,wicket to wicket
 the languid tempo of village cricket.
In  fields enclosed with sheep in flocks,
wooden pavilions &rickety score-box.
On the boundary rope,high ambitions 
live in hope.
Runs come from cut and glide 
as players flag in the fielding side.
The rivals taking guard after tea,a run a minute,
with inhibitions free.
Hit wicket,lbw and run-out 
the wickets fell  the fast bowler 
ending the match with his second spell.

Fantasia

I.	O my children,
	All the faithful,
	Heed the call,
	Hear the sanction...
	The ancient eldritch plea
	Gathering from the thousand shadowed places,
	Plazas, pagodas, pavilions...
	Reach out, summon in communal ritual
	The quencher of your thirsts
	Slayer of want

II.	Moving through the smoke of October,
	The dry chill of night...
	Tending to the bells in the upper atmosphere...
	I am Keeper of the Chimes,
	Seeker of the Hearts
	Of those who yet seek, and know not yet that they seek,
	The Breath of Life and the Flame in the Night...
	I am here and I am She
	Who loves you all and loves you alway,
	And lo, I am with you until the end of your age

Parvilion

Where dares the pavilion stand? 
Some Sweet opium desires fire my dreams...

And vacant empires long loss, passing pyres rise 
High through ancient desires, they linger. 

My thoughts are drifting here to there nowhere 
back when time was gold, wind rushing to where a pavilion stood!

Board, white and wide along the shores of infinity 
Blue seas riding to the sapphire sky that slip back sublime…

Awash in the hours, of some sweet opium dream 
and thoughts of Empire, 
where vacant thoughts seem void!   

Divinity long lost my in design and desire, 
across the sea‘s rising to a sky of infinity…

burning celluloid.

Blazing in the sapphire sky 
and all I can see is the time of grand design… 

A Pavilions stands alone silently 
along shores of tranquility…

















                                             




                                            (this is where it dares)

Pleiades P

Pleiades P

Pulsating Pleiades
Pelione’s fair daughters 
Play in pale pavilions
Paradise peekaboo
Pearls on Orion’s pelt
Plead pure plaintive paeans -
Phenomenon’s portrait

4-9-21
Contest: Pleiades P
Sponsor: Kim Merryman

The Peripheries of Love

The Peripheries of Love
by Michael R. Burch

Through waning afternoons we glide
the watery peripheries of love.
A silence, a quietude falls.

Above us—the sagging pavilions of clouds.
Below us—rough pebbles slowly worn smooth
grate in the gentle turbulence
of yesterday’s forgotten rains.

Later, the moon like a virgin
lifts her stricken white face
and the waters rise
toward some unfathomable shore.

We sway gently in the wake
of what stirs beneath us,
yet leaves us unmoved ...
curiously motionless,

as though twilight might blur
the effects of proximity and distance,
as though love might be near—

as near
as a single cupped tear of resilient dew
or a long-awaited face.

Published by Romantics Quarterly, Poetry Magazine, Boston Poetry Magazine, Triplopia, Shadows Ink, E Mobius Pi, Underground Poets, Emotions Literary Magazine, Grassroots Poetry, Poetry Webring, Poetically Speaking, The Poetic Muse, Poet’s Haven, Poetic Voices, Nutty Stories (South Africa) and Gostinaya (in a Russian translation by Yelena Dubrovin)

Mt Seven Stars

The emerald hills and peaks form orderly layout,
The trails of immortals lead on to the top lookout;
Pavilions peep out through the mists and clouds restless,
Pine trees and bamboos there vie gently for greenness.
The crystal dripping water hits on the could ground of the cave deep,
Distant mountains in autumn are under the setting sun’s final sweep.
Lost in the mirage, I really need to know how
To find the way back to mortal world right now.

Gethsemane Prayer

Father, My Father the hour is come,
My weary heart feels the brewing storm,
Rome's Calvary to Me they hasten,
In Thy presence I kneel chastened.

Take Thy goblet from Me I pray,
Veer me away from the devil's way,
Hide Me within Thy towering pavilions,
Away from Caesar's bloodthirsty minions.

But not My will but Thine be done,
I stand obedient to Thee a Son,
Weary but willing to stand the test,
If that assures salvation for the rest.

So let Thine angel give Me strength,
For though My bloody sweat fall at length,
I'll drink this chalice of suffering still,
Knowing I harken to My Father's will.

To You then My breath I give,
Let death be for Me a brief reprieve,
And eternal life for the rest of human race,
Who'll sing forever Your Amazing Grace.

Oblivion Once Entered Makes No Sound

Oblivion, Once Entered Makes No Sound

His soul walked streets of oblivion,
banshee wailing for merciful reprieve.
On broken altars, deep cracked pavilions,
pain laden, refused to properly grieve.

Years long past his bright stars had all fallen,
his love had somehow just melted away.
Some long nights he heard her lost love calling
and only then would he for his death pray!

Down graveyard street was his home awaiting
lone fallen tombstone his most cherished guest.
Midnight talks he and they start debating
which night he should force his eternal rest!

Now silent tombstones look on fresh turned ground.
Oblivion, once entered makes no sound.

Robert J. Lindley, 6-13-2017
Sonnet- ( Love lost and Death welcomed)

Lyrical Pure Land Hymn

O boundless the land
Built by Amida’s hand,
O splendrous the sky
Of his fair paradise,
A beauty to behold,
A wonder to enjoy, 
An august afterlife 
For the faithfully wise,

Gleaming with purple
And paved with gold,
Groves of lush trees
Of lapis lazuli leaves,
Sweet beryl berries,
And scented petals 
Of agate and crystal, 

A gleaming dominion
Of glowing pavilions, 
Of lofty resplendence
And fragrant brilliance,
Pulling poor souls
Away from worldly woes
With a breeze of Bodhi
And blissful Samadhi!


All rights released into Public Domain, would appreciate if someone could adapt into song.

Mid-Autumn

Plucked from before the hulks of houses going up
My childhood sea and spot of southern sky
The cornflower eyes northern poets wove into their songs
And eastern poets sang the autumn high
Climbed hills to catch the moon
Timid flower placed inside a Chinese vase
Enamel green the ocean waves
Silvered summit at the rim
Of years carried in this ebbing tide
I had many autumns and many gilded nights
Air crisp, sky long and blue, blue
Cornflower-hue of splendid time
Pressed as scavenged leaves between the pages of old books
Verse the fixing glue when flower lives are but a glimpse
A faded head and sea gone dry, the petals lost
The poets leant from their pavilions to fish the gentle orb
And roam the stars
I roam the concrete paths and pick the crumbs
A snatch of light between the clouds

A Place of Enchantment

Take me to an enchanted place I've never been 
Before, a place where there are gilded paintings
In the halls on walls, each one more breathtaking
Than the next, where surreal senses come alive

And elegant imagery dines with-in exotic climes,
Where quaint terraces with buoyant bougainvillea
Bloom in bright shades of magnificent magenta.
Where crystal wine glasses glisten on glass table 

Tops overlooking a rich teal ocean view where 
White sails dot the harbor and graceful gulls glide 
On cool currents as the sun shines silver shards
Off their serene soaring wings....winging, singing.

Let me be surrounded by soft serenades, to the
Symbiotic sounds of violins and harp strings within
Poetic pavilions where dancing and music are one
With the song, where peaceful loving spirits belong.

8-26-16

POETRY UNHINGED - Poetry Contest
Sponsor John Lawless N/A

I Love Me

My mind is made of dirty mud dipped deep down inside an ancient tin mine
My perspective is almost always skewed upright, uptight with airy sculpted foresight
My opinion is of no consequence to ants, rats and minions claiming views of the city, the flats and the pavilions
And whatever and whenever I breathe
I breathe you

I am nowhere to be found yet I am neverwhere to begin with
Whenever I'm about to lose myself, I'm bound to found you
My surroundings are my distant playground, shanty dance floors and lonely parks
I am free whenever I choose to chained myself to you
My stomping, my kicking, my violent tendency smothered me to a delicate submissiveness
To you

I am the airplane, the big balloon and everything in between
I am the air, the star and all that is beautiful
I am that recurring dreams you had on countless nights 
I am not you
Yet I am you
Breathe me breathe you I love you

May Moments

Dawn hurls feisty
Shadows fly fast;
Light grooms sight


Heavy eyelids
Sleepy, jerky knees;
Awkward notions


Rise and shine now
Greet dear sunny;
Sure miracle


Overnight rain
Wet walkway paths;
Tai-Chi dancers 


Movement trancelike
Set of slow steps;
Martial ballet


Surge of feeling
In tight moving;
Poignant dancing


Serious business
This martial sway;
Calming figures


Simple fanfare
Stray passers-by;
Curious onlookers stare


Sea view from above
Twenty storeys high;
Skyline pavilions


Skyscraper toothpicks
Poking the air;
Concrete contrast


Leon Enriquez
01 May 2014
Singapore

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