Propinquity Poems | Examples

Nightmare

Thousands of Times I committed suicide in my dream 
But my guts didn’t allow once in a life
In my dream I could hear ruckle
Was it mine?
Sometime I feel me and death are too propinquity
And sometime it's like sun and earth
I feel like a macula for this land
I am a flicking light approaching to end
The end of race is right before
But still running for the start
I can't eschew my soul
So, I am still here
Sorry god I am still alive
Thanks for the life you gave
Waking me up from Nightmare
Guiding me to success

classy

Today was the first day of class.
You should have seen all the people.

Everyone couldn’t have had class, some of them must
have been gawkers, the types that slow to watch
flat tire changings and car wrecks.

Some were carrying maps - freshmen.
Like student drivers they clogged the paths,
drawing a few looks.

They gaggle together like geese,
Jeeezus - shut UP and get ON with it, freshies! I thought.
Not ungenerously - I remember being lost - back in the day.

I have class, myself - in both the intrinsic sense - of style -
and in the “research for credit” ‘check in on the first day,’ kind.

Still, we’re parading, and I’ve always loved parades.
My one regret is that there are no mimes or elephants.

ok.. poetry..

Stress is somewhere in my propinquity.
See, it’s known to stalk this vicinity.

I’m not a freshman, so it hasn’t struck yet,
but when it does, and it will, you can bet,
that initially, it will shake my tranquility
and end our start-of-year festivities.

It will creepily creep, destroying my sleep,
until I prove my scholastic resiliency.
.
.
Songs for this:
Violently Happy by Björk
Schoolin' Life by Beyoncé

Tiffany Brocade Taffeta

Written: November 09, 2023
                  ________________________________________

An allegedly assured affix
distracted by wistfulness
to assess arousal of anguish,
wherewithal shadows tackle by day
amidst thick mist, in propinquity dry wells.

carrying a titian heartbreak on my shoulder.
a gentle regret that is not a zenith dread;
brocade as taffeta, a bluesy lullaby.
spun from gentle yarns; weaved.

Striving to scale a sibilant soil surface
toward porous roots of sequoia
trapped by the force of gravity.
allow only tangerine tears to flow
from my sorrow.

Getting into the quagmire.
in quest of one's fortitude.
whilst waiting for syzygy perigee,
to occur on perihelion.

Quest For Companionship

Written: October 1st, 2023
____________________________________________________________

If you quest for a mate, I'll be yours if you abide
Friends and mates, a loop that will never glide.
In close propinquity to one another, we will reside.  
With our motley efforts, we can swivel the tide.
Fused by the bonds of oneness, harmoniously we stride.
On this journey, zeal and passion will be our guide
An enthusiastic flame, that blazes deep and wide.

Social Media

Connected
Intimate, Direct
Cultivating, Engaging, Relating
Affinity, Propinquity, Remoteness, Aversion
Rejecting, Evading, Separating
Withdrawn, Deflect
Disconnected

A Day In An Old Town of Oakland

A Part of the Past Frozen in Time

You can
drive your whole life
not look upon the face
of harbingers in spring wet earth
Remembering the ephemeral warm
Mediterranean summers
clean petrichor fresh rain
bucolic life
setting

Yielding
a nostalgic
propinquity city's
efflorescence dress brick buildings
The epiphany of an old church as
it sings the echoes of erstwhile
Redolent warm feeling
Victorian
versed homes

Yester
years fine brushstrokes
Trees towering on the
outskirts of the demesne beauty
Unique, intertwined dalliance with the
farmed and the wild a wonderful
serendipity find
quiet hunger
of life

Copyright © Eve Roper 3/31/2016

The Emptiness In the Life I Lead

The emptiness I feel
In the life I lead
Can’t fill and steal pains that deal
Blows I seldom need

In the air I breathe
In the lungs I possess and the stress
That assails the disbelief I loathe
In the witness I assess

In circumstances whose distances and stances I witness
To circumvent events that prevent the downfall I suspect
Exploits the weakness
In the sorrows that inhabit the prospect

In mistakes for high stakes in the past I made
To sneak justification
Into the stolen grade
I accumulated from the infraction in the mission

I set without prior consideration of the gravity whose motility and propinquity
I didn’t grasp
In the liquidity I invested in the volatility
Whose clasp on the last ditch gasp

Spurs breathlessness in recklessness I kill
As considerations of dark thoughts roams free
To ask me heartbreaks to heal
For reasons I can’t see

But parallax in circumstances I experience
In situations insanities dictate
In the lance dance whose influence and confluence
I hate to regret and serrate

In the hollowness I dislike
As my mind grows cold
While spikes sorrows hike
Stakes, threatening my happiness to withhold.

The Daze of the Gaze In a Haze

The daze of the gaze in a haze amazes the craze
In a series of streams and reams that raze
The wall between my fall and the wall
That screams no more to any tyranny should I crawl or entrall.

The daze of the gaze in a haze phases out the phrase
In a series of streams and reams that blaze
Trails, nails and pails teeming with tears I cry
When it dawns on you’ll never belong to me no matter how much I try.

The daze of the gaze in a haze tazes the maze
In a series of streams and reams that prunes the phrase
‘I surrender to no one’ from my vocabulary and estuary
To ensure I enjoy pure cure in feelings I foster in February.

The daze of the gaze in a haze razes the phase
In a series of streams and reams that graze
The pasture and posture that portray pusillanimity
In my endeavor and flavor to fly you into propinquity and proximity.

Sonority

In the nascence of one’s polonaise,
Always an unknown tune invades, unseen, unfelt:
The sonority of a somber night-sonata,
Inside a cold, dark tomb.

Aleatory existence led by revolting wheels,
Propinquity of flesh becomes insuperable;
The horologist can’t cease the ticking.

The tour de force of infinity--
I wonder why it couldn’t be a holding, exoteric.

-Pin Dew (01/05/2017)

Infinity Till Eternity

In the serene nights with starry skies, 
With you on my mind, I realize. 

Beautiful soul, you're so pristine.
Perfect are you, your love divine. 

Oh my dear, you're so adorable. 
Each moment with you, unforgettable. 

In all our minds, some flaws there are.
Undeniable expectations,  all wide and far.

Not even on the west risen day,
Your expectations could I meet someway.

I grieve, I cry, in my heart's uprisings. 
Dejection takes control virtue my shortcomings.

My subconsciousness though, in tranquility remains.
Privileged I am, feeling of calmness pertains.

For I've known you, I've loved you, so warm 
and deep.
And gratitude for your reciprocation,  I do keep.

Name it not, what we have for ourselves. 
Why make a bond? When it's us, together it delves.

Let there be spaces yet propinquity.
But I'll be loving you, infinity till eternity.

He Compares the Sonnet To An Orchard

A fecund and well-tended plot of ground, 
the sonnet is a stage, a sacred place 
where thought and things aesthetic interlace, 
where all that charms the senses may be found. 
Delights of sight, propinquity and sound 
can crowd together in a tiny space, 
a parcel primed with sapience and grace, 
where nothing strays beyond the bower's bounds. 

The sonnet is an orchard, tightly trimmed, 
whose regularity belies its treasure. 
The pleasure we derive from supple-limbed 
and fragrant trees is matched in equal measure 
by fruits so beautiful and weighty, they 
enchant us with their erudite display.

Under the Lampost

Walking in the park alongside you.
Lake reflecting dusk of changing hue.
Unsaid words saying it all.
And there beyond the horizon the sun seemed to fall.
Entwined fingers envisage our soul's propinquity.
Twinkling starts conveying our love through infinity.
Under the lampost facing the water we stood.
Huddled together your head on my shoulder felt good.
Your silken hair danced with the  graceful breeze.
Enthralled by your beauty even the sylph you seemed to please.
Secluded and safe is how I felt in your embrace.
And how I felt divinity right in that place.

Now when I dare open my eyes,
I know you have left without any goodbyes.
And here I stand under the same lampost,
Shedding tears of the past, missing you the most.

One Day In a Town

I had
a wonderful
dalliance one day in
a town -its bucolic setting
redolent of petrichor and roses.
It was in propinquity  
to a demesne where I 
saw the face from
my dreams!

He was 
a harbinger -
Sweet serendipity!
Where efflorescence clung to stones,
he kissed me; then came my epiphany.
In erstwhile days I‘d seen his face.
Oh, joy ephemeral!
I had kissed my
cousin! 


Written April 10, 2016 (checked by Howmanysyllables.com)
for the "A Day in a Town" Rictameter Poetry Contest 
of  Nayda Ivette Negron

A Day In a Town

Sun
was bright
shining in the sky
i wandered in the 
lands of distant unknowingly
the scenery had a bucolic setting
the clouds harbinger-ed the arrival of rain
i could feel the petrichor but it was ephemeral 
the efflorescence of trees bore apples
the apples on the trees were redolent and winsome
the erstwhile serendipity of this place could be felt 
my dalliance with this place would be remarkable 
my father had a old propinquity with this town
he felt freedom in this paradise
and i too in epiphany
the night grew dark and
came the queen 
the shining
moon

A Day In a Town

Evening.
A harbinger,
the breeze is redolent
with petrichor. Soft rain begins.
Across my bucolic demesne, I see
My erstwhile dalliance’s town
Ephemeral it was
But such passion
lives on

That day
A willow tree
Where serendipity
Turned propinquity to romance
The epiphany of our love brought not
Open doors, but a higher fence.
Ancient love eons old
Recalled from my
wheelchair.

Jade eyes
Chocolate skin
Casualty of hate.
Granddaughter rolls me back inside
Efflorescence crunches under the wheels
Her eyes flit to the ebony
Young man down the road
Perhaps times change.
Hope lives.

4/10/16

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