Sprinting Poems

Seductive Seclusion

Sitting in such seductive seclusion,
it truly feels good to be left alone.
Your ideas are free to go sprinting,
the equisite desire of delusion.
Every daydream's a malleable stone,
it's tricky to pause a road transforming.
Full metamorphosis before your eyes,
that visual will chill you to the bone.
Capture just one bubble before bursting,
A neglected seed of heart's desire cries 
                 staining.

Genesis

The crescent settled
behind you, wrapped in silk night,
wearing jasmin orange behind her ears.

I wondered: if she overheard
our brewing midnight; could she tell?
From the gleaming stars in my eyes

that I’m nothing if not a sailor
lost in azure, in awe
of treasures shimmering silver.

In the heat of silence, could she hear?
The pounding, quickened steps of
spring, sprinting across time—

Frogs break free from their winter hide,
I hear blushed wings hum 
impromptu tunes of perfection, and kisses

that felt like summer grass’s touch.
Sealed, in the envelope
addressed to spring when she catches up.

When I saw Dilly dally

When I saw Dilly dally
I thought, "Oh no, this kid's got to rally!
Cuz if he loses this race,
it'll be a total disgrace,
cuz this race was right up his alley.

Songbird

Lirena was a songbird born of yore
Who dearly loved her husband everyday;
She sings her songs of contentment no more.

An adversary’s troops ransacked the shore,
A ruthless marauding they did display;
Lirena was a songbird born of yore.

Her loving husband whom she did adore
Abducted mercilessly from the fray;
She sings her songs of victory no more.

She trailed the captor’s ship on raft with oar,
Enduring stormy gales and restless waves;
Lirena was a songbird born of yore.

Making landfall, sprinting upshore,
In tearful attempt to plead and persuade,
She sung her people’s secret song of yore.

But the Adversary had no remorse,
Her beloved was already in decay.
Lirena is a songbird of long forgotten lore;
She sings her songs of compunction forevermore.

A-May-Zing

Old familiar tune of Happy Birthday, 
Along its line I fell in love with May. 

As long as I remember from the start, 
It etched for good into my childhood heart. 

On the same date as years sprinting along, 
Birds orchestrate my birthday with a song. 

In my honour tulips curtsy my way  -
So charming that their bloomday bursts in May. 

For every wish I make, the sun beams cheer:
“So many more to celebrate, my dear!”

Love’s in the air, in sunshine or in rain, 
Yet something about May I can’t explain. 

Born into blossom of prolific spring, 
My month of May marks best calendar fling.

(If that month fell, let’s say, on February, 
My heartfelt warmth would melt cold snow with glee!)

Moments of Stillness

Some day, Some hours I sat still,
As thoughts wove their silence of will.

Gazing at the sky ,my mind began sprinting,
I,rooted like a stone,yet new thoughts keep getting.

The soul's window kept on rolling,
Unleashing musings, forever strolling.

In these notions, the sky appeared saying,
'Thou hast endless opportunities awaiting'…

In The Moment

There is nothing to distinguish
this day from any other

down on the beach 
children splash into the shallows

dogs sprinting after soggy balls
flung from loose limbed strollers

while swallows carve the air
with cursive dashes

how easy to forget
this scene will keep repeating

in all the seaside towns
long after you’ve departed

your breath and essence
mingling with the salt and spray

for today observe your pleasure
then exhale in silent thanks.

Running in Pace

    Running to escape
       running from trouble
    Pick up the pace
       quick, on the double

    Sweat pouring down
       feet pounding the ground
    Second wind comes along
       now sprinting headlong …

    He broke the tape
       in record time, wahoo!
    What he's run from is clear 
       ~ but what’s there to run to

The Heart

Written: February 19, 2024
                    ____________________________________

The dam, in which 
the tissue residue is present 
has a saline ecosystem
despite the dryness
It is still preferable
to a carnival of wood and
burnt bryony bushes.

You could smell it.
from light-years afar
a tourniquet grasp of 
saffron soil in a swooshing 
flame is inscribed on the 
plains armrest.

The grassland dips in
revealing slabs of an ancient utopia
the focal halftone of a 
floating forehead features 
a house of clovers motif
my torn lobes throb
beating as a breathing bruise, 
hiding behind the partial eclipse
the integral aspects of 
crimson maple.

I started overlapping
the threshold
to be buried as an
enigma in the depths of her soul
in the funnel, mists of ash, and shaking
sprinting into the intricacies of a 
heavenly sanctuary 
dubbed heart.

Porch Dreaming

His idle head
went running, jogging,
racing in a convertible Porsche.

A wicker chair creaks,
images arise behind closed eyes.

Out there, beyond his sight,
people watch him sprinting away,
dogs chase and yap -
running like that
can get you fizzy-dizzy.

No, he will go shopping
for a Tesla,
or a Chevy Corvette.
Which?

Decision making
always made him dither-some
and achy.

Too much purchasing power
quite tired him out.

The sun, was by now,
falling asleep on his skin
as he rocked back and forth
counting pots of gold.

The Dream Devourer

The dream devourer 
consuming the man and his thoughts 
Mo ri yin
I see you 
I see you dashing away 
With an overwhelming perk
sprinting awesomely 
rupturing the mended portal 
wrecking the passing phase 
Mo gbo o
I hear it
I hear a deafening cough
ibon ti ke
the sound of gun fire 
I am scared
urging to get out 
struggling with this muddled dream 
tossing amidst the flashes 
of blade and brittle bones 
I strain to whisper 
I strain, huffing for strength 
peeping outside 
only to witness 
the mystic portrait
of the darkness 
puffing out smoke

Dreamy Visions-Collab With Jo

Limpid sprinting waters of burbling brooks
Rows of flamboyant and swishing dark green pines
Embellished with glowing verdure on sidelines
Tender and flushed buds aglow with rich looks

The dense clouds have descended on the earth
Little fluffy white wisps of dreamy visions
Natural splendour with divine collisions
What a splendid mountain view, beyond worth!

Craggy hillocks covered with the snow quark
"A thing of beauty is a joy forever!"
Hark back locale to recall for whomever
A lovely photograph of nature park!


Placed : 1st

Collab with Jo Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joanna Daniel 
Date: 01-05-2023
Syllable count: 10.11.11.10

The Oval

Racing the oval of tide
Watching the sun and moon collide

Riding on horses in the oval of fate
Saddling on courses in the ring of slate

Horses in breeds of colors and shade
Forces in creeds of odors and glade

Mares and lasses of cold and wintry grounds
Grasses and races on parch, dusty mounds

Sun speaks of myths and bounds of horses' blether
Moon tweaks on blithes and squally weather

Sun and moon are light and dark horses
Scuttling, bustling in many races

Sprinting is a long distance course
Glinting and weltering without remorse

Humans breathe as horses, treading and running with reins
Born to win in the oval... praying, striving with strong veins!

Igba Irunmole

Igba Irunmole, 

These armies in bright blinding splendour, 
Arrayed in unfathomable beauties, 
Winged being from beyond the galaxies’ 
Tracking the blues skies unnoticed,  
They walk this earth, unseen by mortal eyes,

Igba Irumole, 

Sparkling in beauty, I marked their glowing gaze,  
In radiance beyond sunlight,
Watching the sons of men day and night, 
Though as servants attending, 
Yet as warriors in readiness, 
They weary themselves unseen by mortals,    

Igba Irunmole

They cover the winds in clouds, 
Sprinting through sunlight unhurt, 
They mingle in lights with glorious enthusiasm,
Constrained by frequent grandeur
Parading this widening landscape 

Igba Irunmole

Is this His beauty? a delightful sunbeam, 
Buries my gaze in a blindfold of horror
Well nigh to the end of life,
This frame so frail mingled with pains
A strength not mine imbued within, 
There I saw my fickle frame.    


footnote . Igba Irunmole translated into English Are myriads of Angels
Igba is number count in Yoruba Language, 
Irumole, Iru awon oni Imole, the bearers of Light

Dreams

I know that love is not always
a constant

like aspects of weather, fluctuating by
degrees~ a heart in beat with each
step and direction...

Let us outpace all hate...or else reside
with resentment, where the failure to forgive
and move beyond.... 
                                 The real treasures of living
not found in artificial measures – the sweep of manufactured hands
as if they were blood and soul driven, 

the metal climax of chimes, though 
heaven does hear and count each clang
and ring of her wound man – 

Our dreams alone live outside the illusions
made by sleepers for omnipotent sprinting
free from all borders, an unattended brain 
left in the dust of its liberated mind....

• Short Sprinting Poems
• Famous Sprinting Poems
• Best Sprinting Poems
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• Long Sprinting Poems
• Sprinting Quotes