Peripherals Poems | Examples

It made me twist and turn in bed

My mind could well from a million alts choose: 
Marvel at beauty of that moonless sky, 
Re-live that meandering slow boat cruise, 
Recall fragrance from her love wafting by, 
Re-enjoy bluebell blossoms of late springs, 
I could have dwelt at her demurring dimple 
Which, seems to show deeper dent when she sings, 
And whilst at it, could have delved on her ample 
Presence— any of her prime beauty spots, 
But worries weighed in, crowding out my joys,
Why, but I kept on dotting needless dots, 
Not on the pleasant dream, what it destroys, 
   Which, made me twist and turn in bed n times, 
   Dwelling on life’s peripherals, not primes.
__________________________ 
Sonnet |01.02.13, revised November 2024|

The night takes you

Louder and louder - becoming inaudible 
Neck 
Neck 
Stick it out long 

Flash Flash 
Images distilled, frozen and framed 
Drinks flying 
Clothes torn and lost 

Crowds getting bigger 
Wanting the floor and this spotlight 
It's shining elsewhere 
Just wait your turn 

Drunk messages 
Small puffs of smoke float in your peripherals  
Hazy and it is blinding 
Blinding all these senses 

Common sense 
Throw it to the wall 
It's lost here 
Along with your phone and your wallet 
Your identity 

You belong to the night now 
You become the night now 
You are the night now 

This transforms you

Religion Or Spirituality

The Master taught the ancients,
the brilliant art of making fire;
Losing the art in imprudence,
they also forgot the Master.

Beliefs, doctrines, rites, rituals,
Have, no doubt, elements holy;
Deeper than these peripherals,
- Is true Spirituality…

Signs, symbols, worships, and scriptures,
Have been indicators of - Truth;
Indicators are path-pavers,
Can path-pavers be: 'The Path?'

Lotus, swan, Vedas, garlands, and
Holy beads are simple symbols;
'Brahma' dwells in the farthest of far land,
Within inmost heart's citadels.

Every flower, every plant, tree,
Each bird, any animal be;
Every insect, every fly, bee,
Are all spirituality.

Spirit has no forms, shapes, structures,
And tangible anatomy;
It's in and around all creatures,
In symphony-like harmony.

It's that lets me alter, detach,
That tells me respect, tolerate;
Tells always blessings to dispatch,
And with God to cooperate...

It prompts me to face and accept,
To truly my duties perform;
To love, let go, wholly respect,
To always discern and transform...



May 18, 2021
Religion or Spirituality Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker

Pond Peripherals

White water lily rooted deep
Profusive alba in flora peep;
Over the surface,upside down
Waterboatman-nature's clown.
Spiders spin their bubbled bell
Close to a ramshorn in crimson shell;
Stick insects,two inches long
Feed midst a tumultuous throng;
Mosquitoes,midges and water fleas
Bredd ' neath the shade of willow trees;
Rush,sedge in tall loose strife
In open ponds that team with life.

Ice

What does grief feel like?
The world comes to an uncomfortable silence
nothing feels real
it's like a mask placed over your head-
a mind game
one you can't break out of
it's the lonely gazes
hoping to see you in my peripherals
it feels like part of me is gone-
ripped to shreds internally
forever looking for the missing piece-
of my soul
it feels like a hollow chest
after you've cried too much
for too long
it feels like everything has lost meaning
lost hope
That once warm feeling, the hope
evaporated to ice

Built and Broken

Once a thriving house.
Tall jade grass flowing in the worlds breathing,
Our passion and love shining through a diamond toughened, crystal clear window.
Through the storms and ravaging disasters it stood.
Unnoticed went each piece that tore off,
Each hidden at night and dispersed in day.
Our footprints embedded in the path,
Never a step outside the tattered gate. 
Darkness loomed,
Time sped by.
Our thoughts driving the rain and thunder,
Lightning striked.
The grass now burnt to ash,
Hard and disgusted dirt lay around us.
Our time a yanked thread. 
The window now shattered and pieces lay beyond our peripherals.
We lay separated, our bed now torn and slashed. 
Slowly 2 falls to 1. 
I sit alone in a fallen hope.
Depression and desperation my only companion.
With cut hands I place each brick back into place, 
Each glass shard glued.
Another storm you bring along, 
Demolishing everything.
Only thing left is a grave and grim remembrance. 
My life was my death, 
And now I lay deeper and farther from you, 
An empty casket and a hollowed heart full of regret and despair.

Tunnel Vision

Running along the sand,
Footsteps trip
Hands sunk, face plant-
Can you see the cacti?
Wind howls, and grabs me by the waist-
Throwing me against the grains-
Lips cracked, I can taste blood-
Or maybe it’s salt- 
I’m losing this battle against the desert sun
I reach the cacti-
Feels like miles away but it stands, tall and proud-
Waiting for me to prick myself
Waiting for me to give in-
I reach out my hand, the sun sizzles-
And it’s gone.
Nowhere in sight, I check my peripherals
What sort of reality is this?

Again and Forever

I'm teary eyed as I enter the again
Throwing listening ears to no ones gain
Innocence of all now bearing the same pain
One wonders, shall it ever abstain

We read in the papers we see on the news
Bulleted missiles affect like they cruise
No longer does it matter whom they abuse
All of all now lie in amidst littered fuse

Roadside bodily attired devices born
Wanton deliberate turmoil is their storm
This is definitely no Children of the Corn
When one approaches, shall a cuddle adorn

Eyes never close others captured by light
Impressions of death whilst sight blights
Peripherals of demise so different from before
It's minus one against one, life's eventual score

Ungodly Things

As a blood-red sun bleeds in the sky,
white cottony clouds absorb scarlet.
And a seductive silvery Moon;
bares Her skimpy slip like a harlot.

Jack-o'-lanterns decorate porches;
grim gargoyles guarding All Hallows' Eve.
And costumed children go door to door;
begging for treats, dressed in make-believe.

Sinister shadows seamlessly merge;
outside the peripherals of light.
And goblins gather in the darkness;
watching vampires and witches take flight.

Halloween ends as the clock strikes twelve;
but each moment heightens the tension.
For before then, ungodly things roam;
committing sins too vile to mention.

Dawn pierces the night sky like a lance;
announcing the birth of a new day.
And the jack-o'-lanterns flicker out;
having kept hell's hooligans at bay.

Peripherals of Me

within me, exists
an exterior peripheral
look at me, I'm free




.

Spore-Eater

To gain insight about the world around, 
I will eat the spores which sprout from the ground.
These fragments of feeling are so fleeting,
Which make up my entire being.
Knowledge or solace will surely be found.
Some new sensation will echo its sound.
In feeding the hunger, I’m all-consumed,
And still picking at my aging wounds.
Joy and agony are momentary creatures,
Details and lines in a portrait’s features.  
Without my peripherals, context lost.
Focus turned inward toward abstract thoughts.  
I find myself never lacking surprise.  
Inspecting the world with blood-shot eyes

Within My Circle

As I flash through the books and screens,
The plots take me to new terrains.
I experience a world beyond the reality,
where every image might as well be a fantasy.

I see visuals within my peripherals.
Can it be a hallucination?
Could it be more than a daydream?
Or am I blinded?
Blinded by an extreme desire to indulge myself.
Immerse myself in the perfectly bendable world.
Comfort myself through the ease of a dreamer's imagination.

The temptations to stay within its boundaries are immense.
A slight wind of displeasure sends me running back to the circle;
The circle where I have established a routine;
The routine that created my safe haven;
The safe haven of solitude and freedom.
But is it really freedom?

The fear I am avoiding;
The fear I am so afraid to face;
Can I ever be brave enough to withstand it again?
My circle has a shield;
A shield that is as strong as my fear.
I know I have to break it.
Maybe I can.
Maybe, someday.

Peripheral Feelings

Caught up in life, in our peripheral we
Doors we enter, but do we actually see
Or does life's light, simply blind
A trait of us, human kind

These windows that attract
That can lure us eventually through
Is this luring on our radar
When feelings turn the screw

It's over a period of time
About bridges destroyed and rebuilt
Like the ebb and flow of the tides
To free us from life's silt

But it's these journeys of life that cut
When dialogue proved to be woven
Until we enter these doors of life
We'll never know our peripherals proven

Honesty of character, shows a halo touch
This other trait of human kind, I don't like so much

That Girl In the Dress

Finally I've made it to paradise, surrounded by the sea
Tranquil blues in shadow, are what it's peripherals be

White buildings reflect the sun, an image I'll never forget
To watch our sun disappear, the most beautiful of sunsets

Whilst the night comes down, such beauty continues to be
My eyes now in capture, to the sight that confronts me

She stands in proud like stance, a lady unknown to thee
Tanned, so beautiful I witness, impressed my eyes do see

Torso shaped with black, white lace adorns it's low
It's the she that wears it's colours, that makes it's beauty flow

Hair of dark curls hang, like the "Gardens of Babylon"
Flavours of life emanate, my heart appears in throng

As I sit here in La Ola, on paradise by the sea
It's where I witnessed that girl in the dress, captured, I am thee







http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/lorena-2.php

In the Lunchroom

Well now that you have gone and turned me on
I guess im now definitely going to be taking you home
Just know that i got to wake up early to mow the lawn
Because that was the only thing that rhymed in the poem

And the feeling i get whenever you catch my stare
Is like healing a secret with the passing of air
Whats the deal though you dont return my glare
You know what i want to steal it could never be fair

But by the end of this night ill have pillaged your village
And know that ill never stop pressing or keep you guessing
You have appealed to my picky liking baby ill be your viking
Oh and i hope you dont mind if i call you baby because im definitely not shady

But as im watching you drink that drink 
Im starting to think
As my peripherals catch your movement
I want to savor the moment

But with the unfortunate passing of the everlasting time
This moment could never be lasting because its almost tomorrow
And the only thing that ive wanted more than time is for you to be mine
Because lady i dont mean to sound shallow
But you turn me on

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