"beatific" poems
In tunnelled darks, pastes of reminisce
Outward disjoint points to irrelevance
Spooned and coned in cold mountaintops
The darks of sorrows and trails of struggles
Persistence patterns of self satire in gloom
Sunken in identity crisis of broad oceans
Stormy seas spotlighted by beatific stars
Trajectory of spilled ice in recurrent motions
A mere past cocooned by fears and tears
Clouded in thoughts that cruise and decline
Greyed white imprinted by sudden sadness
Madness echoes on arched ancient bricks
Checkered maniacs of fulfilled passions
Filed and iced in cased prolific memories
Cascades of sunshine tickles to warmth
Orchards of glow that bloom and grow
Picked, ticked and unpacked from boxes
Attacked, nurtured and stored in bliss
Eventful lessons unfolds in untold augury
A mission as the known permeates and fade
Windowed eyes all line up in parade
Mirrored lights digest the haunted haste
A stranger to self, an ally to another
A dance of bright entwine a twist of blur
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 11:48 AM UTC
O traveler, why lookest thou straight
on the road
grave and speculative,
Depriving your eyes such a beatific sight,
See the angelic form standeth behind
the window curtain,
Come, wait, sit beside me, it’s worth waiting,
We both will sing in praise of her
And linger until she uncurtains the curtain.
You say it’s purposeless
Why argue?
Isn’t it the reason our maker gives us eyes?
Isn’t it the purpose of our mind’s evolution
to sing and hail the beauty; at least of her.
You won’t believe my word? Impertinence!
You will be blinded by her shadow
spare her presence; “stare not for long”,
What? You say it exaggeration…
Bon Dieu!
If beauty is not exaggerated
where lies its charm.
Look! her shadow moving, she is
growing impatient as if getting
late to meet her lover.
Yes, she wins heart in a look
and crushes it in a blink and wins again
by smile.
Monarch sleeps in her bed
Life in right, Death in left hand; she possesses,
Judiciary in closet
And warriors in purse.
Countries bow, world kneel, universe supplicate
before her.
Stop! Where thou going?
Pardon these adynatons,
I’m drunk in her beauty.
Let us sing then, I’ll lead, you follow
Flowers wilting in chilled air,
Waiting clouds to part
To have a look fair,
Of moon…
Do see the restlessness in that room?
I can sense her ***** heaving, repressed
sighs and her fingers twisting, twirling
in exasperation,
It must be a lover
who invented the song, isn’t it?
A gloomy firefly in this starless sky
Searching his lover
Who has lost the light,
Wait not moon, rise, help him
In his plight…
Look! look! The curtain is drawn
There she, my sovereign,
don’t mistake her eyes for stars.
Have a profound look, but not too long;
this witnesses only fortunate.
What? you lost your vision-
But I warned you earlier.
Now, who’ll testify I saw her?
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 7:43 PM UTC
stranded in
the beauty of her throat shunted
her preference
a short drop
in a bulwark twisting knot
a hanged ghastly pendent
her feet arching desperately in search of a floor
they will never find
obedient!
yet
her face
a hideous insubordination
she dissolves like tropical butter
a screaming silence
a falling prayer
shuddering
with downward sloping limbs
she
blue
hemorrhaging
eyes wobbled
bulging to break into paradise
tumbling
like a dizzied cyclops
as numb lipped jutting howls
turn cement
always willing to help
he scums
for her
in pulsing heaves
of beatific gush
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 10:46 AM UTC
A sky so blue
Beatific smile of Sun
Swathes the vastness
Welcoming with open arms
My gleeful heart
Reaches out to the sky
Oh so like the feeling
Joyous jig, to celebrate
Unleashed dreams
I release them to the wind
They fly high
Among the blue
Taste of freedom
Feels so great
My dreams have taken flight
My feet on the ground
And my dreams soaring high
A feeling of euphoria
As I kiss the wind
I feel lighter
My eyes are brighter
Hope resides in my heart
With the sky above me
A shade of blue
Oh so true
A new day and hope
I embrace the landscape
Proud I am
To feel this beauty
I am a part of it
Welcomed by bright sunrays
Feel free to express
When the sky breaks into laughter
Playfully indulge in a light banter
You are here
Welcomed by a bright new day
Regaled by the birds’ songs
Intoxicating aroma of Nature
Along with a sky so blue
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 7:34 AM UTC
This is the colour of my anger:
A white hot searing fever
Tearing through my veins like amphetamine;
A surreal dream that keeps replaying in my brain
Over and over again...
Life is pain enough
Without other people
Making it tough. Guess I ran out of luck:
Top of the class and surrounded by dumb *****
Whose only qualification is knowing how to trigger
The ticking bomb I've strapped on
In my anger.
This is the colour
This is the colour
This is the ************* colour
This is the colour of my anger:
This weird red mist with its fingers
Coiled around my brain,
Blurring my vision as I allow it
To make my decisions
For me. Again, it hands me the gun, then runs,
Leaving me to get the
Damage done. Well, aint this fun?
Three, two, one, and it’s time to take cover
I won’t get any sleep
Until I’ve shown you the colour
Of my anger.
This is the colour
This is the colour
This is the ************* colour
This is the colour of my anger:
A smouldering orange lava
That laughs at the wrath of the sun,
And I feel like the risen Son
As it pours out of me, heavenly,
Reducing everything in its path to the
Sum of zero
But this is just a fraction of what it’s capable of.
Hot and full of hell is my fury. Shit's getting gory.
It's time to remove the canker.
No more bluffing, I’m all in -
Let the games begin
With my anger.
This is the colour
This is the colour
This is the ************* colour
This is the colour of my anger:
The cloudless blue of my eyes
As I admire my workmanship,
Reflecting upon the new ********
That I have just ripped for you.
My smile spreads from ear to ear, like a slit throat,
Beatific in my ecstasy as this anger drains out of me.
The adrenaline that pumped so furiously
Now dumps its load in me, bringing me to my knees.
Enough, I say, as I see how small you stand there;
Let's call it a day, now be on your way,
Just remember the colour of my anger.
Don’t ever
****
With me
Again
Jun 25, 2012
Jun 25, 2012 at 10:40 PM UTC
deaf and dumb
are the passers by,
the visitors as well
gladly would I fill their ears
with the wisdom of weary worries,
tedious torments, but I fry their meat,
smashing it until it screams
the sizzling symphony wafts to my bulb
stirring memories of the steer, the ****
the beatific butchering, and
the killing fields of my youth
while others see only my hunched back
and wait for their greasy grub
I ask why there is no atonement
no sorrowful song for the slaughter
of young ones in faraway lands
who fell under the “noble” knife
or
the bovine beasts whose skulls
were there for the bar, that dropped
with sublime indifference
as it stilled their
magnificent silence
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 11:23 PM UTC
When the sun first shows its beaming face,
at the break of a blissful new dawn.
Your birds that exult with elegant grace,
bid farewell to the night that's gone.
Your flowers ornate your vast lands,
of your priceless treasures they boast.
The besotting Kilimanjaro that stands,
dominating your east coast.
You are home to the best precious stones,
the land of gleaming clear waters.
Garnished with skills and strong bones,
you are served by your dutiful daughters.
The soil that expands on your gracious vest,
the equator that cuts your enormous chest,
birds that bear your golden crest,
are a few ideals of your daring zest.
The treasured soil that fills your vast expanse,
the gracious finesse in your every dance.
From Egypt, to South Africa, Nigeria to Kenya,
From the stupefying Sahara to the beatific Victoria.
I love you dear Africa, The land of the wild,
This poem is for you from your little child.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 8:27 AM UTC
~~°♡°~~
He had died upon a cross
Three days laid to rest
Women came unto His tomb
With a vision blessed
As they saw the stone was moved
An angel then appeared
*"Why is it you come to seek
A man who is not here?"*
They looked into the tomb and saw
The cavity was bare
The shroud was neatly folded
But Jesus wasn't there!
The joy they felt beatific
When Jesus did they see!
They obeyed His next command
To meet at Galilee
In amazement and some fear
The women ran to others
Proclaimed the news Christ was alive
To the waiting brothers!
And two of the disciples
Did walk to Emmaus
To find the Lord amongst them
Though their eyes they could not trust
When they could see, and found it He
Said, "Our hearts burned within us!"
Then Jesus came, good as His name
To folk who were to wait
He showed his scars, the telltale mars
Sat with them and ate!
He led them up to Bethany
Blessed them all around
They were amazed, with His hands raised
He was lifted from the ground!
Can you imagine trumpeting?
Can you hear the sound?
Could there be it's equal?
In glory to be found?
Jesus rose to heaven
*The clouds were then His
CROWN*
SøułSurvivør
(C) 4/16/2017
Apr 16, 2017
Apr 16, 2017 at 1:21 PM UTC
I shall love diners after Death
Famished from a million mile trek
Soft dances, whimsical, flowing
All in time and in step
Effervescent in its antiquity
Light penetrates the vociferate soul
A blinding silhouette Reveals the true physique
casting no shadows
back, at last, back to the harmony &
surrealism of our sacrarium, our home
no more hours to waste away
nothing to signifying
night from day
no need to search for words to convey
As we began we return just as we should
our recrudescence revivifies our sainthood
with No judgment charged upon us
with no reward for the good
neither condemned are the noxious
immoral nor the many many absurd
For those deleterious malignant calamities
must remain incarcerated on Earth
from whence it came
As we Return once again
soul cleansed in beatific death
The physical abandoned with sin
The dead left unknown,
un birthed
Shut in
Aug 10, 2011
Aug 10, 2011 at 8:49 PM UTC
In the midst of old ravines and paintings, a succulent soldier dreams.
As dawn starts to paint, as the secondhand piano plays,
his azure iris will gaze
to the sun- the faraway maiden.
In hope that one day, he'd sunbathe and chase dreams
with spring nymphs in holy fields of bonnets and poppies.
Into the poetic imaginations he submerged,
eating dainty buns,saccharine berries and milk by a spiral pond;
and pirouette like butterflies on feathery grass with florets and mist.
Far across the sullen lakes, He'd run with the spring squirrels and foxes;
through the honeyed prairie, the crooned secrets echo faintly like a damsel's song.
In between His spellbinding tales, plants they giggle in harmonious blithe—
that even the gale who gush by in haste, would stop and peer with serene awe.
Abundance of miraculous faith He ignited to his vein,
for the black dots of his crest and spine to someday evanesce.
And in ease, realms of woodlands and lone moors abound upon his eyelids,
that mother nature awaits him.
tick tock, two steps away from the holy born of Christ,
He died of collapsed dream, like muddy landslide of wet monsoon.
His soul— a soul of a fey,beatific and mesmeric dreamer, perish away in stardust.
a shriveled lilac body, graven into a treasure box, a seraphic smile carved.
With waterfalls and chrysanthemums,
moonbeam and fog, an elegy,
and a handful of brimmed ash—the box sealed like a secret letter.
that dusted night
ashes charily scattered to the wide empyrean
along with a brush of vain agony.
Rest in peace, Floyd the cactus.
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 7:43 AM UTC
fury, winds raged the treetops
threshing branches, approaching brush.
but from a distance, natural destruction,
looked like beauty in the forest.
and this was just a piece.
this is not the whole.
inhale, exhale,
increasing repetitions
repeat, repeat.
decrease and deepen.
pause in awe of the machine you're given
watch the forest faint, beatific ruin.
feel the fibers tear in effort
feel the area inside you swell
this is just a piece
this is not the whole.
process unto another day
with brighter light and seasoned winds
as repeated swells exhale an ending breath
gawk, inhale, hold, process, yawp; repeat.
understand this thing, know it truly
die through effort, repeat, repeat.
beaks with feathered wings swarmed in silence
Persephone cheers with distance, "defy their gravity"
here; pause; absorb the leaded revolution
weigh inside this mockery of death
"this is just a piece,
this is not the whole."
abandon seated distance, chase with fire
the unknown of the unfolding.
ravenously consume the untouchable time
feed, inhale, pause, process, exhale, deepen
repeat, repeat;
endlessly repeat.
this is just a piece,
this is not the whole.
May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 2:29 PM UTC
A garb - the physique
An apparel antique
A marvel mystique
Yet each unique
The body a fabric
For the soul beatific
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 9:07 PM UTC
If I didn't love you
*I wouldn't be crying myself to sleep
And wake up just to cry.*
If I didn't love you
*I wouldn't be this numb
Because I've been hurt too much.*
But I know,
If I didn't love you
*I wouldn't even know
What love itself was.*
If I didn't love you
*I wouldn't know
The world is beatific.*
Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 4:44 PM UTC
I hear the voice of the voiceless.
I see the face of the faceless.
People say I am a raving madman
for I kiss upon the passing breeze
thinking of it as your feet.
© Ali Ashraf
Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 2:16 AM UTC
This house
slowly unraveling
peeling off in layers
like citrus of sectioned
freshness
squeezed out of bounds
my heart
all caught up
in rooms, furniture
f l y In g
no longer rooted
by familial gravity
My veins wrapped
in long strands of
live wires
hugging each item tight
as if to unlock
the memories that
scintillate within
and I
radiate my
feelings of forever
to somehow imprint them
before they
whirl and swirl off
into the universe
Snippets of our lives
in angled slices
of colored mirror
a look
a smile
a glint in the eye
children laughing
a garden surprise
crazy kitchen singing
first solids and a bib
first little sweet dance
beatific smile from the crib
the bedroom for cuddles
little bugs wrapped in blankets,
so close and so dear
flanked by both of us,
guardians of light,
keeping out fears
Once, we claimed private time
velvet kisses down
trails of skin
hot lusted shadows
gently sliding within
This is how love corrupts
how old batteries explode
burning rust that erupts
as I break out
from the mold
Now your words hit my skin
in bad chemical reaction
knives and arrows of rupture
as my bone marrow
gets fractured
Insides are spilling out
guts all over the floor
all this chaos created
as I split
through
the door
May 13, 2017
May 13, 2017 at 8:06 PM UTC
Within the nook of a dell,
a good distance
from obloquy
and inhibition,
floating on water,
listening to birdsong
descend down
the stream
of a musical scale.
Don’t need to believe
or even consent to
any critique,
any look-see,
you are free and light
on the surface,
buoyant and supple
beneath.
Languid movements,
reminiscent
of a weir,
cascade
and trickle,
springing forth
to orchestrate an overture.
This feeling is
beatific,
euphoric,
the moment one of
nonpareil,
bijou,
objet d’art,
and these transports
are yours only
to involuntarily
succumb to and relive:
Rhythmic waves
quivering
upon your shore,
as your limbs and spine camber.
It’s no wonder
you often lift
your voice in song.
Oct 19, 2019
Oct 19, 2019 at 8:01 PM UTC
On good nights, I like to send messages to space, outer
or deeper though direction and dimension are lost on me.
I get answers but no translations, no key or stone to this alien
and spacy thought. What? You say you bet you could
rephrase space in a language even I could understand? After all
you passed algebra, walked around school a big shot, finding X
or its equals. I should have paid attention, but mine was fixed
on Linda, Lucinda, Corinna, Corinna where you been so long?
I might have learned the meaning of words from long forgotten
gods, frustrated issuing commandments, ok in their day, but
ignored now, passé. I was absent for those god talks, apocalypse-isms,
missed out on saints with half-moon halos and beatific visions.
I heard only rumors of women, words like smitten, enchanted,
obsessed with love like striated bark on trees, canals on Mars,
rain and that sound that creeps under sod. And so I wait
for an unambiguous, intelligible answer from anyone in space.
Jul 5, 2011
Jul 5, 2011 at 10:22 PM UTC
On the ocean of life I
Dropped thought-pebbles
Resonances in winds
Rebounding in ripples
Actions born in countless waves
Triggering counter-actions!
Cataracts of wonders, suddenly
Vomiting volumes of gold
Pouring golden flames
Into life ocean purities
Bouncing up hills and valleys
In voyage of expectations
Creating realities in emeralds!
Tumbling air in blues
Skies beatific glory binges
In endless waves in azure skies
Echoing sounds of depth
Deeper than the deep
Launching into the Deep
Harvesting immortal gold
Reaping eternal glory!
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 9:28 AM UTC
Mud drenched months, so soporific,
I love and find you beatific
Envelope too my heart and brain
In a gauzy shroud and tomb of pain
The south wind plays on this great plain,
Where nightly creaks the weathervane,
With ebbs and flows, my soul sings
As it extends its raven wings
My heart is filled with dreary things
As it does when frosts descend,
Oh shaded seasons, my regal friends!
Your shadows sweetly lingering,
- Unless in darkness, like newly-weds,
Numbing the pain of a hazardous bed.
Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 9:18 AM UTC
Chrismal Skies
Delicate beauty christening our innate senses
Sweetest effusions dancing with mother’s perfume
Across this dew kissed sacred morning
Thunderous echoes announce your chrismal skies
Where winter’s kiss beckons to quietly slumber
Your beatific bouquets fragrantly arrive…
© Romantic Poetry Poetess
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 3:43 PM UTC
the years pile up gently
as snow upon snow pile up
on snow laden ground.
you wake up one morning
still with sleepy eyes
to see the view from your window
still the same
yet somewhat changed
from the landscape you saw before you went to bed last night.
you jog your head,
to drive away
the lingering laziness in your bones,
smiling at a half remembered dream
where you were flying through the sky
dodging the telephone and electrical wires
that crisscrossed the path of your flight,
and whispered a silent prayer,
you get up your bed.
reaching out with heavy limbs
to the pair of sandals
lying on the floor
and trudge out of your cozy room.
you look at the mirror
(at a landscape still unfamiliar?)
and frown
(or smile?)
at some added lines
creasing the sides of your eyes:
a view more subtly changed!
a year is gone,
another is on the run.
count your life if you may
in ages
old traditional way
but, mark it off proudly
with words:
painful, prayerful, purposeful,
incisive, iniquitous, imperial,
eclectic, electric, effervescent,
dolorous, delirious, devious,
singular, simple, (sinful?),
frenzied, frivolous, feral,
tepid, tremulous, turbulent,
ludicrous, libidinous, lugubrious,
zany, zennish, zinged,
barbaric, beatific, bucolic,
and so on and so forth.
words that are sensual, soulful, spiritual,
that moved your heart ,
that moved our hearts.
words to remember you by.
be happy.
feel blessed.
it is your birthday!
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 8:21 AM UTC
i wish to reveal a most precious thing
as Spring has begun
my dearest Daddy’s Birthday is done
he is not a man of celebrations
i want to disclose this personal’s manifest
as his blueprint, i am really beatific
i am very fortunate to be able to recollect
all and everything
to be your beloved daughter
is one most precious and delightful evidence
such a coziest feel to have you in my presence
you embody all that is calm and peaceful
no other impervious Daddy then you, my handsome sensitive
your BirthDay, dearest Daddy is never nebulous
the reputations you left us are all fabulous
you told me tales, they are in fact realities
you are one of a kind, your mind so sublime
you constantly cared and loved me, i am your prime
i love to tell superlatives about you
you deserve the most, dearest Daddy,
i am very proud of you, of your humor and your visions
your cartoons, drawings, and your fascinating paintings
you conjured magic in all your writings
C.C. was your weekly talkings
Charlie was your weekly walkings
in the world of Charlie Chan
i am very fond of you, my very talented Daddy
i know your world too, owned by you as a stage performer….
i remember everything, every detail hidden in my mind
i wish to reveal the most precious thing
last night i went to your place, i was wondering
you were not there, i started sobbing….
© Sylvia Frances Chan
21st March 2017
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 11:35 AM UTC
with zen calm
he awaits,
the next chess move of whimsical time
li’l does ‘time’ know,
he’s way beyond it.
legacy etched in stone,
this warrior of awareness
marches to his impending destination
steeped in silence.
as his life flashes
in that rear view mirror,
his beatific smile says it all.
i’ve attained nirvana!
© 2022
May 15, 2022
May 15, 2022 at 10:39 AM UTC