Rhythmical Poems

A Perfect Night

I watch a star twinkle in the dark midnight sky; 
a shooting star stirred up a spirited sigh.
The full moon shines its brilliant warm glow, 
soft breath whispers love in rhythmical flow.

Shimmering reflections from the light of a moonbeam
stirs tranquility and romance into this dream.
Arms slide to embrace and caress you with yearning; 
my passion is rising, emotions aflame, my body burning.

I lay you down gently, and in my strong arms we find
my dreams coming true as My Queen has been crowned.
Tonight for us will be a stunningly bright beginning.
Moonlight magic, love's serenade, will keep us singing.

Wordless Words

Wordless Words

Countless times of talking,  
On the prepared table of meeting,  
Killing is a sin and a silly action,  
A sin that brings sorrow and suffocation.  
Holy books wisely say:  
We are equal in all ways.  
Now look at how the world dismantles,  
A peace broken down into fumbles.  
Fire from far away, made by guns,  
Burning and sweeping away the innocents.  
What for? Possession and wealth?  
Not fair; speeches are not worth.  
They sound good and rhythmical,  
But bring no change in a circle.  
If everything is done to stop,  
Why are missiles still in prep?

Heartbeat

Rhythmical pulsing instrument of life
beat of its own; strong
love being the power of its vitality

Such is our existence

A life long choice, to spend wasted time~
Was your search for silence 
~and~
tranquility of the mind.

A matter of delusion~
That Such thing exists to find~
Believed only by those, who are subconsciously inclined.

How can a world, which posseses symbolic seas
 - and -
Crashing waves, symphonic with chime 

Continue with rotation, without it's voice of rhythmical reason 
-and-
Universal rhyme

Poetry Is

Poetry
A whisper to a scribble
The pen scratches against the blank page
an odd and rhythmical pattern
Imprinted into one's soul
Leaving an odd sense of peace or turmoil
Lingering with a yearn
A yearn for something unattainable
Something supernatural
Words standing tall
Reaching and stretching- searching
Desperately trying to
Obtain the unobtainable
Failing time and time again
Only leaving an echo of the words spoken
Or the emptiness of the ones left unspoken
Forever lost in the silence
Empty space
Which can only be filled by the next
Vulnerable moment to be bled out onto an innocent page

Let's Tango

 Let’s do the tango upon the dance floor
Wear the slinky dress that you wore before
Dance with me darling beneath the spotlight
Lost in rhythmical music of the night.

I love how your heart beats when close to mine 
Surreal moments that happen in time
How your hips sway in a sensual way
Those slick leg flicks as we’re dancing away.

Dancing with you I am under your spell
Totally mesmerised, it’s hidden well
It feels as if we are floating on air
Among the stars with ethereal flair.

I wish to tango with you evermore 
Tell me that it's what you are wishing for 
You captured my heart and I am entranced
Have been that way since the time we first danced.

Light my smouldering embers of desire
Tango tonight and torch the world afire
A night to remember our whole lives through 
For this is the night I propose to you.

The Essence Of Song

A poet is a musician 
The instrument he/she plays are words
The heart of a musician is the essence of song 
So when Lord Alfred Tennyson defined
Poetry as “the rhythmical creation of beauty”
He felt, he heard, he composed the internal song
Presenting sound and content
In a style of it’s own
Creating mood inspiring a view
Painting a phrase a cliche or two
It is music in the mind’s ear
Best poems are timeless text is clear
Be they transformed by languages years
Great poems live on
External life’s future peers

Monet In Rain

Maybe a thousand people 
are in a room, two rooms away, 
all popping bubble wrap

with thousands more waiting outside
ready to take their place
Or a deathly hand slowly turning a dial

through medium wave radio
missing all the stations
finding only constant rhythmical white noise

But perhaps a wily dry scaled dragon
is sliding down a gravelly mountain
as my windscreen patters

with the sounds of rain and yet more rain
My view rapidly becoming a Monet masterpiece
A flick of the lever and suddenly the glass

palette is cleared ready 
to quickly become a Monet
all over again

And I sit on the dry side
of glass, watching, waiting
for the next landscape

Harmony

Under the calm umbra of oak trees dome
Spirited dapple light sparks the old home.

Emerald, green blades and spun webs
In lace with morning dew, rhythmical ebbs.

Spreading around natures white daisies
A garden harmony, one with time crazies.

A magic merry-go-round for delighted bumblebees
And butterflies as they are not hard to please.

With a taste of nectar on their lips and the sunshine
In their hearts unseen while they dine.

Time is daunting its wing steps forward,
As it does its rounds sifting shadows onward.

Poetry Is

Poetry is the calligraphy of my Soul
a deep connection to something more whole
Poetry is magical, an escape I confess
a connection to life, a way to express
Poetry is knowledge, a power so deep
a story to be told, to cherish, to keep
Poetry can be colorful or make your heart ache
can be rhythmical and funny or perhaps hard to take
Poetry is the voice, a creative work of art
a shared thought or verse, that comes from the heart
Poetry is my life, I breathe it every day
a kaleidoscope collection, of whatever comes my way.

The Lido Life

Deep breath 
And push
Face, stretch out, glide,
Noise diminished, 
smooth as silk taking in the first.
Meditation moving forward.
Ever forward. 
Pushing downhill.
Survival in the chill. 
Survival in chill.
Enumeration in perfect timing.
No chore to attend, 
no chores to attend to.
My survival in the chill. 
My off switch.
Breathe, pull, pull, pull, breathe.
Silent, rhythmical, turn and push.

Jazz the Form Aloud

imagist fragments
              rhythmical effects of
                 virtuous wordplay
                  of    singular soundplay
phenomena
       in   linguistic tracts
        occurrences in the vernacular
        disfunctions,interpolations
        from the poetic heart
repetitions
          stereotypical
          transcribed in a whirlwing of verse
          virtuosity intensified
           heightened &focussed
           sensitively sounded
            envisioned
authentic perceptions
                           made manifest
           initiated in discourse
           conceived in patterns of dialogue

inherent dynamics
          extraordinary in breadth
     lengthened beyond 
       lexical limits
fashioned to facilitate
enrich&endow

the unfamiliar      introduced, then
           interpreted becoming conjectural
           unexpected metaphors of
           the observed natural
                                     panorama
the spectacular articulated
                  with inventiveness
                     surpassing the everyday
rhythmic interplay

Nothing Impossible

Night poet as, I create
Other poems possible
Tankas intimate
Heroic rhyming poesy
Iambic couplets plenty
Nursery rhyme tales
Greek elegy odes
Italian novellas fables
Mournful elegies
Poesy, sestinas, villanelles
Other verse lyrics
Short rhythmical compositions
Spiritual rhyme versifications
Innovative poetry stanzas
Book anthology prefaces
Literary novelettes
Epic narratives

Just August

This August day the air is still, humid, and stale.  The Sunlight's  hot golden rays pour slowly down through the umbrella of tangle leaves.

Its rays rests upon the spears of grass, nude ground and roots. I hear the building rattle thrum of the cicadas in the tree. Laughter of my grandson, as I rhythmical swing him back and forth, and spin him, on his spider web tree-swing that hangs from a large limb.

8/9/2022

Spick and Span

SPICK&SPAN
an outdate view
 of the
 cold sterile
&
  reclusive
an  existence
endlessly reconfigured
  separated
by
  the austere


an alternative
vision
inspired
 the concept

influence
 unfinished
a conflict
de rigour,
 rhythmical

a breakthrough
sparse
but
  pristine
immaculate&
 sleek
subtle
spiritual
yet remote


NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived

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