Her day is passed in sweet insouciance,
my own debilitated by this pain:
I lack all satisfaction: no disdain
is motivating her. No piercing glance,
no hurtful word, contemptuous, askance,
perturbs my consciousness. Against the grain,
she wounds me by her kindness. Grace’s stain
contributes to my woeful circumstance.
Some harshness on her part would help it end.
Without hostility, I’ll never mend.
Yet something drives me on, when things get tougher.
Through knowing her, I’ve learned of The Sublime,
Uniqueness in Normality, and I’m
reminded of love’s vigour, and can suffer.
Categories:
perturbs, love,
Form: Sonnet
Heart, be still.
Your restlessness perturbs the tranquil seas.
Why beat that tumultuous rhythm?
Why reel under this conquering pain?
Why mourn the unbearable loss?
Why weep when pierced with arrowed words?
Why cringe at the stab of dagger looks?
Why pine for the sweet cup of comfort that does not last?
Heart, be still.
Your wearisome antics betray you.
But how change the chaotic strain?
How ease the pain?
How dry the tears?
How quench the thirst?
Where seek for rest to stop the raging of your fury?
Heart, be still.
Your ceaseless cries disturb the stillness of the deep.
Great are your surges, never satisfied..
Heart, be still.
The sun in his glory
Has shone to calm the tempest
‘tis he alone,
He alone stays the angry seas.
Categories:
perturbs, anti bullying, anxiety, hope,
Form: Free verse
Fun writing forms - a fascination.
Some might end in assassination;
others, invectives, wild gyrations.
Voila! perfection… titillations!
----------
A Droigneach is an Irish quatrain with a bunch of additional "rules" regarding end rhyme length, inner rhymes / cross rhymes, alliteration, start/end sound. This hits most of those, perturbs a few. Just messing around this morning...
Categories:
perturbs, appreciation, writing,
Form: Quatrain
How shall I count the time? Shall it be days?
Night’s hopes die yearning, restless for the next.
A measure of this sort, if one obeys,
Leads short and certain to a crossroad vexed.
Or shall I count by months the time and tide?
Will February rise and fall so soon?
Inexorable march, one’s patience tried;
Will lions turn to lambs inopportune?
Hope springs forth new, now melting icy powers.
For man’s time, not his own, is what perturbs,
Best seasoned by the passing of sweet hours,
By Kairos, the most fragrant of the herbs.
Oh Lord, I won’t be anxious, for it’s true:
A promised room prepared; my home's in you.
—————
for the 2022 Marathon Mile 9 Poetry Contest
sponsored by Mark Toney
written 02/01/2022
Categories:
perturbs, christian,
Form: Sonnet
If music be the food of love, play on
Claim the streets of London be filled, and its revelry be still,
Purged the households, and bay at their homes window sills,
Let tender labyrinths yield their cleared halls be an open song,
Spilled venturous notes befall upon unscripted pages, play on,
The summer breeze aloft butterflies to mingle the redolent mirth,
To give it counsel, make talent its sheets filled a righteous worth,
Of length aches a theme a songstress indulge let it solicit a tune,
Nay, cease, the mood of sour faces, a mark that killed-joyous June,
Silence, and put a march to thy step for the mundane that disturbs,
The grimaces invade the room and the deafening silence perturbs.
2020 February 03
Famous poetic lines 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
"If music be the food of love, play on" - Shakespeare
Categories:
perturbs, poetry,
Form: Rhyme
I'm the humming of an old song
The one that fades away slowly.
A lonely walk in a drizzling rain
A touch of an inner melancholy.
I'm a line of a poem once written,
An ink dried that day in a poet's hand.
Sun has set, twilight ray mixing then
Reach the dream of a far-away land.
I'm the cluttered thoughts of a noun
To ride along with all those wishful verbs.
Crafting words to weave a delicate fabric
Touched by the horizon for perturbs.
I'm the rhythm of a beating heart in,
Passion for holding the world a still…
Let the barren land to lift the pause once
To unfold a vigilant tale of a turning wheel.
I'm a silent moment that never meant to be
A teardrop for a reason, too abstract to know
I wish I could hope and pray for my little bud
A fairy-tale to wake up my little Ivan-hoe.
Categories:
perturbs, angel,
Form: Free verse
I adore windless days
writing and sipping coffee, but the Autumn chilly breeze perturbs
my serenity and scatters auburn leaves all around me;
if it's a warning that winter is coming to sadden me,
I shiver at its thought:
hiding myself under the warmest blanket!
The calm lake beneath the precipitous cliff
is being rippled by the unhappy swans feeling the uneasiness,
even they must find another place where clouds don't drift,
and away from angry winds that unleash their madness!
Goodbye, splendid skies...
shining over meadows that gleam in sunlight;
goodbye, warm rain falling on the beautiful roses of misty gardens;
this spring wish is suppressed by thoughts of uspeakable fright!
The only consolation is hopeful words wriitten on gloomy moments,
will a melancholic tear remind me how unreachable is happiness?
I'll endure short days by a lamp close to the window
where I peak and dream making my impatience grow!
The Autumn chilly breeze perturbs my serenity
affecting words in sentences that sound awkward and lose
their thrill by anticipating winter's monotony...
can a free spirit endure a suppressed existence?
Written on 8/25/2017
Categories:
perturbs, autumn, feelings, october, sad,
Form: Rhyme
My id! it is complicated
Psychologically with a high IQ
Highly educated - I walk
My path is quite an endeavor
Compositions quite contrare
I am an artist - I express
My intellect flows when I talk
Communications levels reflect same
Yet in my mind - I can not reach you
If I could - I'd tell it on the mountain
Echoing each erroneous speech
Thus then you I might reach
With theory of repetition Ah!
Indeed ! I see ! You hear
No one listens - redundance sets in
It perturbs me so - feelings within
My peers , they do part
They are far , far away
So each new born given day
I am with you ! I am doomed!
Likewise I am sure I see
It's obnoxiously getting to me
That your id , your IQ
Reflects in the beligarent you
No one's really listening but the birds
They tweet! It becomes me......
Categories:
perturbs, bird, repetition,
Form: Dramatic Monologue
We who are hiding in our second bedrooms,
Licking the silver from the backs of our screens.
Are living in a differently timed zone
Of waking awareness.
Sometimes 2, sometimes 3, sometimes 4 or more
Lives are lived each night.
In our rooms
By ourselves
Sitting too close to our beds.
This is our perpetuity
The lasting legacy of our species:
The glow that now contests the light that once shone from our eyes
Rises up to the razor’s edge of our understanding of
What is Unknown.
What is un-utterable.
What can barely be thought , much less said and
Yet keeps these words dancing so merrily across this page.
Caught in the ballet of silence that surrounds them.
Who are you reading this?
And what are you afraid of?
What perturbs your eternal sleep-walk into this night?
Are there questions you are pondering?
Or are you merely waiting for the screens to pull through for you?
Into your own quiet, private world,
Where the things that count never change.
And no one is dreaming you but your mother
Who has left you now for another child.
More: http://is-she-available.com
Categories:
perturbs, dark, deep, how i
Form: Free verse
sea birds coo
ocean fog perturbs seashells
sun greets dawn
Categories:
perturbs, beach, beautiful, beauty, life,
Form: Haiku
The valley of Rainbow Border Dahlias
It is calmed tonight. The voices of people
Once upset and decorative given the nature
The best of Calla Lilies' funeral
While the moon pallid and pregnant
Is blazing around the horizon and flowing over fat clouds.
Across the street where that happened
Stella d'Oro Daylilies her name has been written
With candle lights: A teenage had died.
A sweet soul, a local reporter has said.
A figure of her stands up. With accusatory finger
To the vast God leaving nothing to be
Confused with! He killed me!
On the streets, they can see only cats and filthy dogs.
They are injecting and relating. They are out
In host hunting butterflies whose smell
Spread over the last earth's life.
Look! That is the girl. She’s painless with a sense of lost
Using her tropical ability to remember you and I
She cannot be alone. She seems to communicate
With rotten organism or the simplicity
That perturbs and penetrates the quietness of a bee.
San Fernando Valley, May 12, 1990
Categories:
perturbs, daughter, death, dedication, loss,
Form: Free verse
I avoid the light that invades the space of the windows
because it perturbs the nuances of my thoughts:those
frigid sepulchral memories of yesteryears' love lying
uniformly beyond a damp partition of consciousness,trying
to escape as a means of a venerable excuse for me to
decimate this flesh and soul which gives residence to
those effulgent ponders that waver restlessly and tangent
upon the structure of the optimists' creed that was bent
from capricious minds and hypomanic-states to which nothing
states of the verities of the now abysmal dolor which rings
through my heart with incessant intonation of a melody
that schlepps through my senses in remoteness of euphony
which springs forth from mouths of angels vocalizing of their
freedom.And within those octaves I hearken of the loss
of my freedom which I once embraced in the solitude
that abraded piquancy of vibrant day,having worn it away
to evince the cold moments of paltry existence when those
unawakened fleeting thoughts(which are semblable to windows
of graves)allow no memory of yesteryears' love bereft
to evade,and no glint of light to invade the eyes of death.
Categories:
perturbs, inspirationallight, light, love,
Form: Free verse