The Poetry Contest
Virgin
- Joined
- Feb 4, 2005
- Posts
- 23
Please read these poems and vote for your favorite of this group in the poll.
#17. Perception
Perfect, in a not so perfect world
Nonexistent, except to the eye that beholds
Fleeting, begging for time to stand still
Beautiful, only to the memory that remains
Touch not, stained into remission
Hues of closure, tempted to unwind
Concocted story, images too faint
Splattered in the beauty, only the mind
18. Blue Dream Daisy
Gaze upon the coloured
landscape which nature
has blossomed
right in front
of your monochromatic eyes.
Fall back amidst
the gentle-scented loveliness
that spring
has graciously brushed
warmly against
your pink pastel cheeks.
A flower can never rise
above the lofty height
of a tender stem
but innocent imagination
lifts them, fluttering
free, like butterflies
intent on petalled beds.
Sleep on this breeze
softened evening
and sigh upon the shoulder
of this daisy
scented dream.
19. Introspection
Looking within yourself
Observing with cold detachment
Viewing the lost little girl
Escape child, run away from here!
This advice to yourself you quietly suppress
Hiding the desire to run away in a darkened room
Easier that way to live each wretched day
Gone are the dreams of youth and a pretty red dress
Impossible though to forget the past
Running up and down hills, through fields of blue flowers
Living and loving was your creed
To be loved with a passion was your reward
He wrapped you in love under molten skies
Allowing you to grow and banish the child’s fear
Then it came
Life stumbled
Interrupted
Vile progression
Evolving within
Spoiling the plans so carefully laid
Angry denial was your response
Not me, why me, it can’t be me!
Deathly silence was the reply
Little things changed so much
Attitude adjustment became the norm
Ugly stumbling and furious angry frustration
Grace of movement and delicate hands now a memory
Hardening body and spirit now your bleak future
So why do I love you?
Why do I yearn to kiss you?
I can still see the happy English girl
Thinking of her red dress future
Happy in a field of blue
I can see the truth within you
Not a dream
You, just you
Obstinately still friends
Until forever ends
20. Love you, love you not
Do I love you?
Love you not.
Love you.
The crimson clouds drip
like my heart
painting my
soul, aching.
Do I love you?
Like the flowers before me
flourishing.
Love you
as you, for you
I inhale
your imagination.
Love you not, like
the Venus Fly Trap
devouring
from the petals of
my life
me.
I love you
like the dew that sticks
to flowers
simple, morning early
early, daisy . . .
dew.
21. The Colors of You
[I see]
Yellow skies.
Water doesn't fall
Because hydrologic cycles aren't really logical at all.
[I see you]
A blue flower falling from blue skies,
Lost in a field of green,
Dirt and grass and broken blue glass.
[I see you in]
Red sun, red sky, red dress.
Black thoughts, white hands,
Fingers bleeding cerulean.
[I see you in me]
Bemused, bereft.
In a handful of blue,
I'm left holding the colors of you.
22. Beauty in Deformation
Be aware of clouds.
Sweeps of light fell thick,
and now we are awed on our backs,
gazing beyond as they lull in soft drifts.
And she,
perfect in alteration, flawed only
if He had brushed all cloudless day.
23.
#24. Red Sky at Morning
Here is sunlight,
red sky at morning, and I
take no warning but bend
my head intoxicated
by fields of flowers
dipped blue as sapphire seeds.
Here the canary sunlight
is God who made me
beautiful and ugly, God
who gave me an intaglio
of red sky gleaming past
the wake of dawn, fallen
as prisms to my hair, why
is my heart misshapen?
My monstrous limbs
which should blossom among
the heliotrope and lupine,
are swollen with the half-life
of memory. I limp insufficiency
and God when I fall,
the strongest arms to catch me,
the warmest hands to hold me
aren’t Yours, but a man’s
whose name the flowers whisper.
#17. Perception
Perfect, in a not so perfect world
Nonexistent, except to the eye that beholds
Fleeting, begging for time to stand still
Beautiful, only to the memory that remains
Touch not, stained into remission
Hues of closure, tempted to unwind
Concocted story, images too faint
Splattered in the beauty, only the mind
18. Blue Dream Daisy
Gaze upon the coloured
landscape which nature
has blossomed
right in front
of your monochromatic eyes.
Fall back amidst
the gentle-scented loveliness
that spring
has graciously brushed
warmly against
your pink pastel cheeks.
A flower can never rise
above the lofty height
of a tender stem
but innocent imagination
lifts them, fluttering
free, like butterflies
intent on petalled beds.
Sleep on this breeze
softened evening
and sigh upon the shoulder
of this daisy
scented dream.
19. Introspection
Looking within yourself
Observing with cold detachment
Viewing the lost little girl
Escape child, run away from here!
This advice to yourself you quietly suppress
Hiding the desire to run away in a darkened room
Easier that way to live each wretched day
Gone are the dreams of youth and a pretty red dress
Impossible though to forget the past
Running up and down hills, through fields of blue flowers
Living and loving was your creed
To be loved with a passion was your reward
He wrapped you in love under molten skies
Allowing you to grow and banish the child’s fear
Then it came
Life stumbled
Interrupted
Vile progression
Evolving within
Spoiling the plans so carefully laid
Angry denial was your response
Not me, why me, it can’t be me!
Deathly silence was the reply
Little things changed so much
Attitude adjustment became the norm
Ugly stumbling and furious angry frustration
Grace of movement and delicate hands now a memory
Hardening body and spirit now your bleak future
So why do I love you?
Why do I yearn to kiss you?
I can still see the happy English girl
Thinking of her red dress future
Happy in a field of blue
I can see the truth within you
Not a dream
You, just you
Obstinately still friends
Until forever ends
20. Love you, love you not
Do I love you?
Love you not.
Love you.
The crimson clouds drip
like my heart
painting my
soul, aching.
Do I love you?
Like the flowers before me
flourishing.
Love you
as you, for you
I inhale
your imagination.
Love you not, like
the Venus Fly Trap
devouring
from the petals of
my life
me.
I love you
like the dew that sticks
to flowers
simple, morning early
early, daisy . . .
dew.
21. The Colors of You
[I see]
Yellow skies.
Water doesn't fall
Because hydrologic cycles aren't really logical at all.
[I see you]
A blue flower falling from blue skies,
Lost in a field of green,
Dirt and grass and broken blue glass.
[I see you in]
Red sun, red sky, red dress.
Black thoughts, white hands,
Fingers bleeding cerulean.
[I see you in me]
Bemused, bereft.
In a handful of blue,
I'm left holding the colors of you.
22. Beauty in Deformation
Be aware of clouds.
Sweeps of light fell thick,
and now we are awed on our backs,
gazing beyond as they lull in soft drifts.
And she,
perfect in alteration, flawed only
if He had brushed all cloudless day.
23.
Down's-a-Daisy
Vacant smile belies the guile
in a world turned upside-down
The sky is red all hope lies dead
my moods now hew a daisy blue
Better far to wish a star
mind when whirled lands on its crown
Clouds of yellow portabello
the Earth askew all debts are due
Smile or frown she said adieu
Bizarre the town Thoreau withdrew
in a world turned upside-down
The sky is red all hope lies dead
my moods now hew a daisy blue
Better far to wish a star
mind when whirled lands on its crown
Clouds of yellow portabello
the Earth askew all debts are due
Smile or frown she said adieu
Bizarre the town Thoreau withdrew
#24. Red Sky at Morning
Here is sunlight,
red sky at morning, and I
take no warning but bend
my head intoxicated
by fields of flowers
dipped blue as sapphire seeds.
Here the canary sunlight
is God who made me
beautiful and ugly, God
who gave me an intaglio
of red sky gleaming past
the wake of dawn, fallen
as prisms to my hair, why
is my heart misshapen?
My monstrous limbs
which should blossom among
the heliotrope and lupine,
are swollen with the half-life
of memory. I limp insufficiency
and God when I fall,
the strongest arms to catch me,
the warmest hands to hold me
aren’t Yours, but a man’s
whose name the flowers whisper.
