Met my hero
wearing black leather jacket
in glossy silky glaze.
He cast deep glance to whelm me.
Proud and smart look
. in firm texture of leather
got printed on my heart.
Impression of love was sealed.
In the space between earth and sky
Ill embrace a cloud to linger and lie.
Above it all clearly I see
Sheds of tears. Tearing of clothes, all for me.
Why do they cry now? Why not then?
No shoulder was given. No praise from men.
In the space between earth and sky
Ill embrace a cloud to linger and lie.
A smile for myself, from whence there was none.
The end of it all, It has begun.
I drift towards the heavens. Towards the gate.
With a whispered prayer, I lesson the weight.
In the space between earth and sky
Ill embrace a cloud to linger and lie.
Breaking sound of silence. Eyes cannot see.
The voices all around, speaking to me.
There, a voice of comfort leads the way.
Where I belong out of the whelm, and fray.
In the space between earth and sky
Ill embrace a cloud to linger and lie.
The cries now gone. The tearing all but done.
A light is shown… Ive overcome.
Your deep glances pierced my heart.
Throughput our life we were apart.
Sank slowly in your love unsaid
Hunger of my love still unfed.
Your eyes mesmerised me to whelm.
Your charming glance only to blame.
Bygone days haunting me in bed.
Hunger of my love still unfed.
I’m ignorant of your feelings.
My love is stuck in glass ceiling.
In social bond we are not tied
Hunger of my love still unfed.
No recognition of our love.
Unison ! We truly deserved.
Yet, for each other we were made.
Hunger of my love still unfed.
autumn assuring
cloudless cerulean sky~
soft shimmering sun
nascent foliage
to glow and glaze in luster ~
auburn autumn shines.
dry yellow leaves leave :
fresh fragrance flow in flora ~
to charm and whelm us.
All around me, the ugliness and rays.
Those scrimshaw eyes, I’m dizzy with the haze.
My pulsepoint jumped, too cozy with our friend.
My arms and legs, in seesaw wave, betrays.
My husband grins with thoughtfulness and flounce.
With piquant sense, he’s unafraid of pounce.
It alarms me, the claustraphobic crowd -
The stingers rest - in whelm of sea they bounce.
I cannot bear flow’s untenable feast.
A turnabout…disconcerting…at least.
My lipshade sours, I back away, take pause,
As loving spouse does pet and kiss the beast.
Where do all the pens go
that's what I wanna know
Did we give them to friends
who might keep them (depends)
Maybe burglars stole them
but not jewelry or gem
Or snagged by the goblins
scribbling with impish grins
They might move, we forget
--the final place it set
In a pile of papers
those inky escapers
Did they all take a hike
their pens' union on strike
Joined up with art supplies
--their artistic allies--
Hidden deep in the drawer
wishing to write no more
Check the desk! Check my purse
cuz nothing could be worse...
...than when a pen's needed
but they've all receded--
--to some faraway realm...
of untraceable whelm
(Inspired by Anne Frank's "Ode to my Fountain Pen")
Written: February 2nd, 2024
___________________________________________
Amber light fills tree nest
From the clearing near the woods, hawks and sparrows fly
magic best
Fey Prince builds realm
Tulip shells loom and dry
imp whelm
round lights
staircase door spy
night
Amber light fills tree nest
Tulip shells loom and dry
night
Appeal of Poetry
Poetry is the open wide window of life to breathe fresh
on creation cum recreation
and in introspection .
Wandering in dreams to be amused
on own muse resonating musical.
Human emotions is best to be relished
through poems.
Lyrics also are part of poetry to reflect in core of heart
neither to analyze nor to criticise,
Emotive urges surge to flow in opulence
in poetry sprouting through seeds of dormant desires
sown in human soul.
Poems , whelm sparkling as gems
on refraction, diffraction
through lens of feelings producing
fabulous, fervid, fervent fervour..
Whatever !
May be composed in symmetry of rhymes
or formed in assymetrical free verse
yet must be rhythmic being enhanced
in passion, warmth and presentiment.
Pretty Poetry has ecstatic entry
to find permanent place in every mind
Written: September 24, 2023
___________________________________________________________
Beneath the dome of radiant skies,
A realm of dreams before my eyes,
Where rainbows dance and colors blend,
A mystic charm that will transcend.
A rose blooms in the heart of this realm.
Its buds are brittle, with an innate whelm.
Each petal holds a secret prayer,
Whispered softly in the fragrant air.
Pray, oh divine, grant me the sight,
To foresee beyond the veil of night.
In this realm, where dreams bear flight,
Where love and hope ignite,
I yearn to glimpse the hidden truth,
To unravel the mysteries of my youth.
Beneath the dome of radiant skies,
Where magic and wonder never dies,
I search for the answers that lie within,
The wisdom that will cleanse my sin.
I wander through this enchanted land,
Guided by the touch of a loving hand.
In this realm of beauty and grace,
I find serenity in every embrace.
Colors of the rainbow shine so bright,
A tapestry of love and pure delight.
The vibrant hues of nature's art,
Entrancing melodies that touch the heart.
Beneath the dome of radiant skies,
A realm where my soul forever lies.
ETHEREAL
Ethereal smile of bubbling baby
Tender touch of soft palm of a kid.
Holy face to whelm and impress.
Eternal ecstatic appeal of innocence.
Rippling rapture in parents' mind.
Enjoying divine feelings.
A kid brings best bliss from Heaven.
Loyal lovely lenient ethereal emotion.
Spaceward: genesis, obedience, fathomless: universe.
In Cerulean: lambent, sullen, discernible: Close ignite.
With harmony: hypaethral, skyward, aether: womb hiccups
Whelm time: serenade, stardust, drizzles: diamond dust,
Overall trends: extinguish, slumber, wonder: celestial hymn,
By extolling: Argyle, twinkle, soothing: miraculous rule
Alabaster Gypsum: portholes, peering, ogling: rain glints
Rubicund Jocund: ventral, sheqalim, vivid: lured stars
Exalt air: Blistering, bleeding, molting: Corolla collide
Orotund Moire: Kaleidoscopic, sentient, dusk: carnal life
Grab fistful: Dripping, purple, precipitation: Sunburnt sky
Dodging Venus: Flytrap, ill-wishers, pyramids: Shift astern.
This variation on sonnet XL1 to illustrate what Kuhlmann intended .
kuhlmann is a verse poem of two phrases interspered with three related monosyllabic stem- words(nouns,adjectives )with an integral title.The label and form is derived from the baroque poet Quirinus Kuhlmann's 50 sonnet
form Love-kiss XLI
Poem inspired by the sonnet penned by Brian Stand
In my alone ...when I'm alone always alone but yet not alone all I have to do is attend to myself breathe my own breath talk to myself listen to myself and relish in the fact that though I'm alone I'm not alone
Don't git it twisted don't be convicted it's OK that I'm I am not sadden nor relying on the masses I'm sociable yet I ain't over whelm my or your devices quietly I spill away alone with holding hands always with my father his hand removes me from the crowded judgments unimportant voices and riddle and rain down on and around me
Again my alone when I'm alone is in a mix of Jesus and The Father a Host of Angels covering sound exclusive from anyone everyone else my social contact is my heart Jesus God's first Within Myself I'm alone it's okay and I'm all right I am all right in myself and in myself I am all right...in mine alone
11/30/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr
When the snout of lush abundance is full and flowing,
when all prey and creature-kind spill upon the verdant swards,
then it is that I worry night and day,
for the stoat, fox and hawk are at work,
they scythe in the whelm and nimiety, they hack and harrow.
The kits and chuckling’s are many, the light too bright;
for then the foragers forgoing fright, are palpable and open.
The long-eared nibblers, hairs on scattered rodents laid bare,
they scutter, skitter and twitch much in the open
greatly prone to be pounced upon;
their paltry pelts all unhidden, and being many,
and not running, they are huddled; yet not strong.
If this slew not ease, if the grabbers not falter,
if the singled-out dither, the glut not wither,
then the green snake will climb to where nestlings hutch -
they all so easily plucked and quickly snatched.
I worry for the wee brown birds; mottled shells still unhatched.
I fear a winnowing, withal a harsh hazard of gorge and sate.
I fret for the freshly delivered, the teeming,
the newly produced, all the bounding bounty
for those too easily found and so, arrived too late.
Is there a stellar orb that’s last,
beyond beyonds of cosmic vast?
I can’t imagine such a thing,
no matter where my thoughts take wing,
for always there would be one more
at least, if not an endless store.
Yet let my flight of fancy soar,
through door beyond the furthest door
and plumb the muses’ reservoir
where heavens’ portals are ajar
by searching yon the farthest star
to where celestial dreamers are
with everlasting repertoire.
Oh I would wave a wishing wand
o’er stars beyond the last beyond,
and sail the seas of welkin’s realm
undaunted by the waves that whelm
with vision to perceive unseens
beyond illusion’s shrouding screens.
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * *
This was newly written for a poetry contest on All Poetry with the same name as my poem's title…
Loathe, an honest man must be,
to admit delight in the dark.
The fascination of blurred sensations ...
The quieting of the mind's endless machinations ...
As consciousness narrows to a single contemplation ...
like the gaze from a window in a warm, cozy house,
into a wild, wintry dance of snow.
Yet, I must admit this poison I drink freely
is tasteful to me beyond its mere taste.
And I avert eyes when I skirt the painful truth -
that I enjoy the way it subdues my mind and will,
the way it offers false comfort through temporary ignorance of responsibility,
the way it makes simple things brim with sudden significance,
as though seen for the first, or from the eyes of a child.
And there's even some part of me that wishes to see,
how much it will take to whelm over me.
With each sip, gulp, and glass, I dare liquid luck
to break my mind, my control, my genius - if it can!
Some genius it is who takes delight
in constant recalculations
of what it takes to dim his light.
5 September 2020
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