"poignancy" poems
SEASHELLS
Seashells
Humble shells of the sea
Each seems to be still alive and staring at me
In its matchless symmetry-
Like the wondrous beauty of a painting
A tender poem written with poignancy
Not of life’s sorrows but joys
For celebration –each is like a happy Mozartian symphony
Such perfection in a tiny manifestation
Natura in minimis maxima-
The envy of Michelangelo or Da Vinci
Seashells—nature’s glorious gifts by far.
Seashells
Always remind me of happy childhood days
Lucky finds—spotted often in half -buried golden sand
Proudly displayed in a jar---I won every classmate’s praise.
Seashells
Tell of the sea’s unknown stories
Events that had stretched through millions of centuries
When you spot one on the shore, readily
Pick it up as a treasure----contemplate upon its profound mystery.
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 7:35 PM UTC
Enter the dragon with death and disruption
Pride and tradition cataclysmically thrown,
Magnificent structures reduced to rubble
Distraught people bereft of their homes.
Chasms of heartache with bodies of babies
Strewn with the bricks in vast disarray,
Dust in the air and the howl of the sirens
Shouting police on a horror filled day.
Christchurch is bleeding, her confidence shattered
Our keynote cathedral is lying in shards,
Vacant eyed people are clinging to strangers
Jagged black holes in suburban back yards.
Christchurch is bleeding, our torn, gracious City
The nation arises in hurt and alarm,
To face the challenge with strength and resources,
To nurture our sister with healing and balm.
Sympathy shown by the myriad faces
Racing to help from all parts of the globe,
Expertise offered with money and labour
Students with shovels and priests of the robe.
Sadness and torment for kin of the missing
Frustrated rescuers work till relieved,
Moments of triumph with lost resurrected,
Agony felt when the dead are retrieved.
Led by the strength of the Mayor of the City
Courageous citizens help where they can,
Moments of bravery, moments of agony
Inspirational feats of elan.
Poignancy shown by the sad Maori Warden
Guiding the aged through the strewn broken glass,
Aiding the ambulance crews in their labour
Proud to be Kiwi as folk show their class.
Christchurch WILL arise from the death and destruction
Once again people will overcome grief,
Pride and resilience will triumph with the passing
And time will repair with deserved relief.
Marshalg
Victoria Park Tunnel
AUCKLAND
25 February 2011
Feb 25, 2011
Feb 25, 2011 at 8:26 AM UTC
The curtain of night descend upon the sky. It is aphonic, psychotic and dark.
Perpetually calling for daylight, but it is hours before the sun can, if, reply.
Those remote, desolate hours are intolerable, hurtful.
They bring the piercing screams of silence and poignancy.
My wasteland is inhabited with moribund trees in the middle of spring.
This world knows regrets and disingtegrating logic.
Although the constant clouds conceal my world, no sign of rain befalls the thirsty earth.
The trees curved to the scorched ground, seeking mercy, weary and restless of this static infertility.
The throats of the passing birds have dried, no song can brighten the sky.
Insipid and dimlit, not even the sun can filter through the clouds or the thickness of the fog.
Somewhere in this world my body awaits demise.
This decaying rationality bringing peril and incoherence, not a breeze or a murmur of rain,
to quench the aching and consuming thirst.
I beg in silence, but the words seem to hang confined in this inclemency, alone 'till my waking hour.
The curtain has not risen, the night still falls in place.
How long before I can succumb to oblivion and quiesce this raging, tormentig thoughts?
There is no answer to follow the question because I am this world's, this hell's, this limbo, wretched creator.
And so with cracked lips, with ragged breath and stinging chest I remain in the inside of this deserted, and cracked state of mind.
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 10:33 PM UTC
What is the point in
Poignancy?
*Fragment,
you tell me.
Another one in paragraph three.*
What do words matter?
I have spelled love with Lilacs instead of an “L”
I have drawn the curve of my “O” with the chill of a
Sweeping breeze.
A “V” can only appear as the violet of a
sparkling sky, or I will be unable to read it,
and every “E” will amount to nothing more than
emptiness if the voice it has been given
does not epitomize song.
*Comma-splice,
Replace it with a semicolon.*
I am trying live freely.
I want to breathe in color,
to inhale an orange Savannah sky
And exhale green which
shows through the translucent dew
of grass.
*Unnecessary use of description.
Limit it, Lidiah. Limit it.*
My fingers itch with the ferocity of
A vengeful army.
They are waiting to trample pages with
The lead of my pencil, the bayonet
of a Revolutionary-War-era rifle.
The word limit sounds like tragedy.
A single word that can somehow act as
a precursor,
To the death of passion.
Your words have put you in a box.
People always say
“Actions speak louder than words.”
In a way that is true.
But I also know it to be
a tremendous piece of fiction.
*Lidiah,
Please watch your run-ons.*
Why can our words and our actions
not be the same thing?
Isn’t the act of speaking,
the act of raising your voice,
the act of being heard,
isn’t that an action?
*Lidiah,
how many times do I have to remind you?
Clarification throughout.*
Why have we decided that our words
Mean nothing more than
stepping stones on the road to action?
When did we decide that our voices
which rise like clarion calls,
forever instilling our promises,
are to be left on silent?
Precious jewels set into rings.
Poison in a water tank.
*Lidiah,
what you say is irrelevant
if your MLA bibliography isn’t in
alphabetical order.*
Our words are our actions.
They mean the same.
Words are the distinctions of our beliefs
Illustrations of our personas
They are not mosquitos to be slapped away
and forgotten.
*Lidiah,
paragraph five is too long.
Stop rambling.
Be concise.*
Please tell me,
what is the point of being concise?
*Lidiah,
stop rambling.*
Why do we let justification
equate to useless rambling?
*Lidiah,
you have to detach yourself from the narrative.*
Feelings mean more
than a couple of sentences.
More than a good or a bad.
A mad or a sad.
Comma-splice
What about ferocity?
Never end with a preposition.
What about passion?
Replace this with a conjunctive adverb.
What about the discernable strife
that follows even indifference?
What about that?
*Lidiah,
what is the point of
Poignancy?*
What are we without it?
What does the human soul matter
if we have forsaken the parts of ourselves that
remind us of what a soul is for?
*Lidiah,
you will never be heard
if you do not learn to follow the rules*.
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 1:04 AM UTC
I am hopelessly attracted to grumpiness
impatience
poignancy
eccentricity
introversion
stubbornness
anxiety
misanthropy
frustration
hedonism
vulgarity
How, then, do I define 'imperfection'?
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 8:37 PM UTC
You're so dangerous with your profane paraphernalia
Your pelvis postures pandering favor
The line of your stomach embossed by the fire is like a pasture for me
So paranoid with your pacifistic lust
As you proceed to please me with your posture so slightly
And I attempt to pursue oh so politely
You make me perk up like a peacock just with one peak
You're aware of every petty palpitation you can feel just under my sleeve
You play me like a piano, so plush with your lust politics
Pandering for a pardon of my ***** talk poignancy
I part you like Pluto from your orbits serene hum
I'll pleasure you, pleasure you until you're purple like a plum
A pastimes poetises to be written with pleasing lead
You plan every move like a predator in my bed
You're polarizing, plump, and pampered like a pageant doll
Pilfering every plausible pause with a pose of voice, your moan
Seizing the post with your post - modern pompous pouncing
Prompted like Pisces to postulate your prognosis
Lifting your posterior like the pun of a phaliccy
Pillaging me like a pandemic, a plague
Something to be paraded by paganistic plauds
Your pale skin is like playwear for sins
You're pinning me plastered with the play of your grin
Such a pretty motion picture to paint in the prison of your promise
May 17, 2014
May 17, 2014 at 1:41 AM UTC
562
Conjecturing a Climate
Of unsuspended Suns—
Adds poignancy to Winter—
The Shivering Fancy turns
To a fictitious Country
To palliate a Cold—
Not obviated of Degree—
Nor erased—of Latitude—
2k
At the patio i sat
gazing at the blazing blackness
of inevitable strokes of
a glorified paint brush!
Entangled by the utmost masochism
my muscles rustled with ignorance
as the sky rumbled like a **** ghost
trying to tune the infernal chaos
that got demoralized and dehumanized
in the silence of darkness
that devastated the darkness of silence!
Steams of intolerable poignancy
curled around
like ignited demons
trying to tantalize my fears!
Trying to materialize the scene
the storm flashed in rage
ravishing the darkness
dazzled the impatience of night
as it rained in my heart
whose fragrance
lured my innocence.
Jul 11, 2010
Jul 11, 2010 at 4:01 AM UTC
First impressions dug deep into hearts of confusion
Messages of love so warm and vibrant
Perhaps we were fertile for such seeds of emotion?
Planted so accurately in our souls, cautious and yet receptive
As time proceeded the kernels of realisation developed roots, deep and stable
Reassuring our minds and relaxing our subliminal tension
Smoothing our lives as wonderful memories are built, daily
Simple hand touching and brushing of lips, sensitive and meaningful
Walking, talking and learning
A new experience that has become ‘us’, Jan and Max
No longer just two people but a synergy in living and loving
We get to know contentment and embrace it as a tender thing
Every day a careful brick of love is put in the wall of our future
Built on foundations of beautiful harmony and understanding
A creation of happiness and determination worn with confidence
Since no such feeling has ever before been available to us
Fortune and luck is one thing but such poignancy and roundness
Is seldom delivered in such an elegant packaging as our love
Each day is a treasure whatever we do
Feeling you close, hearing your voice, seeing your face.
Why is it so wonderful, was it the wait?
The lack of a belief then destroyed by the reality in fact?
Desperation of having no future, no plans and no-one to hold?
If so all of these are yet diminished by perfection
How close we are, how much we know of each other
Not just now but of the past and of the future we will share
Such true souls never to be parted, ever
These things are not accidental but designed with cosmic influence
Darling Jan since we met our growth has been amazing
Within ourselves and for each other, personally and as a couple
Stronger and stronger from one to a million and on
In this world and all to come
My whole being is completed, enhanced and fulfilled by you
Every day wonderful and a joyful symphony of love
My soul and yours are united forever and my heart...?
I gave you my heart so long ago.... on the day we met.
Feb 3, 2010
Feb 3, 2010 at 12:17 PM UTC
aromatic coffee awakens senses
midst the gestured warmth of radiant
smiles's 'tween morning brew,
reverently paused to catch
the awe inspiring poignancy
of sunrise's exhilaration,
whilst cozily wrapped in the delightful unfurl
of captivating poetry's skillful delectation
a rising ritual begun many blue moons afore,
tempting consciousness, feeding soulfulness
enlightening sensibilities as it
enriches the day's appreciation
'pon the keen awareness of poets,
tempests from all niches of the world
coming together amid upheavals and serenity,
ceremoniously dubbed fierce confirmations
of words expressly borne, communing the
artfully spirited of resourceful artisans,
procuring special collective bonds that
only poesy can wholly dictate,
they look upon us as enigmas
rather strange breed of puzzling characters,
as this inexplicable endeavor
escapes their stifled perceptions
of conduit's musing reasonable facsimile,
we're merely cognitive passages for
experiences on common ground
in realizations of all-too-human foibles
eccentricities, yearnings and fortitude,
released deliverance of potpourri
serving up inky joy beyond expression,
intention's distinction deciphering
reflections in meditative affirmations,
breadth of unrestrained beholden visions
conjured notions of paramount significance
wherein lies evidence of life's burnt offerings,
beginnings and endings of hearts' indulgences
wept in resolute celebrations of existence
as only a poet could discernibly translate
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 8:23 AM UTC
With the piquant poignancy of lurid allusion
I create a dynamically progressive matrix of collusion
Whose apex crux axis is beyond finite solution
And the endergonicaly adhesive pragmatics imbue a cohesively coercive illusion
For the inveterate hypotaxis of livid elusions
I portray a protensive conjunction of latent confusions
Whose effervescent effluence is vagile laconic effusions
And the sardonic impending preponderance conveys sabbat consortium delusions
From the endemic puissance of eclectic synectics
I derive a dialectically semantic sorcery of syntactics
Whose apothegm aphorisms are levity terse synaptics
And the lucidly collusive illuminism educes the aesthetics of geomancy's fatidic
Through the viable salience of kithe’s intrinsics
I exude a portentous pervasion acuity of linguistics
Whose apomixis anabolics are irrefragably felicitous orotund acoustics
And the aural auspice austerities infer axioms of manumission’s eidetics
By the hypercritical mitigations of anachronistic sociology
I purvey rampart ransack oblations of epistemology
Whose azure opulence articulations are futurity ostensive ontology
And the evolutional ontogeny metamorphisms incur a homogeny epiphany deontology
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 10:30 PM UTC
we went to that place, that
vulnerable oasis, where
lovers are nursed
and destroyed;
that march evening
coolness mesmerized by
the silence, by the pure plant,
by the bass in that song
echoed between my thighs
the poems are conceived
in my mouth, on my tongue,
my taste buds
prance around your skin
like honeybees,
your eyes seek perennial
poignancy
and dumfounded i open
myself like a rose
Mar 5, 2020
Mar 5, 2020 at 3:06 PM UTC
The seats are aging
Orange leather with
Cracked faces the
Lines of wisdom
Of ninety
Thousand sitters.
Entire ecosystems
Live on the shining
Polished silver of
Handles dulled
By sweaty palms.
Sightline through
A window
A passing loco
Blurred brief
Images of
Unknown faces.
Sightline to the
Chamber behind
The metal snake
Winds down the track
A touch of vertigo
From uneven motion.
Sightline to
Cascades of light
Brown curls
Flowing over
Porcelain shoulders.
Smooth skin
Sweet as aspartame
Skii slope neckline
Heavenly form
Yellow dress
Slight movement
To the heavenly forms
Pouring through
White earbuds.
Sightline to Sightline
Meet in the air
Muddy brown
Graced by
Kaleidoscope
Greens yellows hazels browns
Electric charge
No other passengers
Perceive.
The doubled thump
Wump
Picks up speed with a
Coy smile
A sunrise blossoming
Over Eden
The birth of an
Angel
The thirst of desert
Sands
Quenched.
Beauty erupts
From the shared gaze
Held 6 stops
Past hoyt-schermerhorn.
Immediate
Immaculate
Connection
Fire through the air
Static charge
Primal lust
Infinite joy
If I could just
Say hello
Hi
You've enraptured
My soul
The epitome of
Beauty.
I sit instead
Stuck
Deer in headlights
****
My twisting insides
The grey says
Such monstrous
Things to itself.
Her stop.
****
Broken gaze,
Disconnected
From the maze
Of her eyes.
I lament.
Sightline back
To page:
"Those that have crossed paths are not memories
Nor is the yellowish dove that sleeps in oblivion..."
I lament some more
At the poignancy
And the loss of a stranger
Made just for me.
She probably would've
Broken my pumping
Gears anyway,
Sayonara, c'est la vie.
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 10:48 PM UTC
And I found peace
in your prayers
And I find solace
when bowing and crying in front of you,
Every tear that I shed
all my regrets
all my sorrows
they all decayed the moment I called on to you,
The poignancy in my heart
the impossibilities
and the hurdles I faced
all I ever did was cry in front of you,
I felt like I sinned a lot
I was grieving
the pain I carried was so immense
And all I said was 'Ya Rahman, Ya Raheem' all that I had on my mind was no more.
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 8:42 PM UTC
Simple
Easy does it
Break for now, only if will
Secrets in love, begin to wit
The rhythm of voices
Sated to defer, to the difference of occults
When enamored becomes romance, are we ready to seek choices?
Of clamor and sincerity, to direct a chance to what will...
Exception, in time
To wonder abroad, to a definitive course
Of stares worth the older, history is mine
With a song in our heart, is actuality ever worse?
Looking the misery of another, if not its mystery...
Was a facade of hereafter, the notion of decency?
Alive, and making the time of a wishes intimacy
Do I have one more smile? yes, yours for poignancy
Feb 10, 2023
Feb 10, 2023 at 5:01 PM UTC
*Get that Boy nerdy, a coy from the get-go
The poignancy of things nature on...
Let the Soil ***** him, a ploy from the ghetto
and the point they can't see brings Change along
Plasma splash from head bust
The numbness from a kiss of ***
I can't believe I'm open...
Plus my cash disappeared must
nonetheless forget it, coz' it's done...
I can't believe it's an Omen.*
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 8:09 AM UTC
Welcome, poets
though we have never met
yet your poems have brought
warmth and joy to my heart--how could I forget
their poignancy and tender touch?
and for more of your poems I do pine
would you welcome me into your words-sanctum
as I would gladly invite you into mine?
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 2:35 AM UTC
Swanky sauntering swagger of a sashay. Verve’s chutzpah, moxie savvy's panache, dexterously agile acuity. Articulate coordinated excellence and prowess’s talented exceptional. Objectified manifest's eidetic prospectus's invertible investiture's infinite possibilities perpetrate incorporeity ideology's perfectible ontology!
Intrepid intuitive intrigue, mystical magical multifariously versatile nefarious nemesis. Malfeasance evocative tout, execrating eventuation evocative expletives, executant tour de force entelechy's apotheosis. Ne plus ultra irrefragable opulence, erudite illuminism numinous piquant poignancy. Dynamic livid lurid vagile puissance. Lucid orotund sonorous fecund resilience.
Eloquent exuberance felicitous transcendent epiphany. Nuance tactile audacious preternatural metaphysical clairvoyant imperative. Augur quantum ominous avant-garde profundity, virulent vivid indomitably indefatigable cogent fatidic, quintessential deft. Celerity innovative veracious metamorphic, adroit nimble avid austere.
Fulgurous astute atman clever crafty rapacious sagacious. Effulgent zealous fastuous temerity machismo enunciation diction, imperative repartee. Exserted protuberance educement proclivities succinctly ostentatious. Ardent arduous inductive adamant incursion ostensible hornswoggling swashbuckler!
Aug 14, 2020
Aug 14, 2020 at 2:55 AM UTC
Patience's home
Sweet and merciful, the tows of resolve?
Account me the silence, the hint of some
Verily fascinated, the tools of cares know the world...
Livid, the tale between two legends
Found curiosity, saviors share of woes...
To remember the clash of waits, worth, and winds
The clue of frustration, if not forces to believe, hold...
Running avarice, the told whisper of when
A prayer has sat right in front of you...
Can a heart be ever so erudite, a sincere occur to then?
Just one more stone of merit, of a liberty to collect who...
Since we are here, the total of unity...?
For a quiet question, sought by instinct
And the callous might we admit; is a reason, a ready...
Quote of vanity and its verisimilitude, and with a wink...
The eyes of existence
Realizing the poise if not poignancy of few's
And looking long beyond the order of meaning's resilience
Can the past of love, be the future for kinder soon's?
Apr 7, 2023
Apr 7, 2023 at 2:53 AM UTC
Grind me to dust -
Go on do it;
I'm simply waiting for you to make the first move
-Amply,
your innate poignancy shatters my every statue and taboo;
So that I'm left to blossom again
Permeate me;
Or eliminate me,
Though I'd rather flourish with you than perish
Break down my walls,
Rip me apart;
As we stand arm in arm while I do the same
So place us in a mold,
Lets blend together
Mesh with me
We could synthesize;
Or divide
It's only a matter of time,
An eventuality
before we'd reamalgamate anyway
You're the math to my abstract;
So should you calculate or speculate?
- Or perpetuate while we vegetate?
Would you,
Could you
conquer the inevitable?
Could you,
Would you
ever endeavor?
You are the order to my chaos
We could burgeon in oblivion,
though I'd rather balance in harmony
It's black and white at the same time
Like cognitive dissonance
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 7:37 AM UTC
The society rejected them.
They were ejected from their homes.
Disjointed hands.
Broken legs.
Pitiful faces.
Mournful silence ...
They cried and felt like crying again.
They cried again.
They yawned and felt like yawning again.
They yawned again.
They are the homeless children you are seeing here and there.
They are the hopeless old men and women you are seeing in the mornings and in the evenings.
No one cares to give them a chance to emerge on the surfaces of the earth and win more wins.
They are those beggars and street-boys.
They were long time ago mercilessly molested by the tryrans and their allies.
Today and tomorrow,
And the days, and the years, after tomorrow:
Let them find some places to rest.
Give them a place in your heart to find solace.
They have no sugar.
And they don't seem to have tasted its sweetness.
To drink tea,
They use a handful of their tears.
In lieu of a comb,
They use twigs.
They have no perfumed clothes.
Theirs are torn shirts and hats fumed by the vapour of a cooking ***
To watch a movie,
They use a mirror.
Through it,
They see nothing than their faces.
They say mirror is their television.
The poignancy of poesy shaped their potentials.
Under the influence of the Poet, a plume spoke:
'I dream of a society where the less privileged ones will enjoy freedom and financial independence.'
With the above in mind, the less privileged ones would be considered as an integral part of the world.
They are capable yet they can do zellions of amazing things.
Give them chances to thrive.
Their yesterdays saw them famished.
They were once hopeless.
God blessed them.
Smiles of courage and hope illuminated their faces.
They were once neglected as well as segregated.
They need to be encouraged and supported.
On their education enough money should be invested.
To enable them learn skills and acquire sound knowledge needed for self-development and progress across the globe.
Adamu Danjuma
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 6:17 AM UTC
Words,
imagery,
poignancy,
laconic
brevity,
extended
profundity,
rhetorical
brilliancy,
Poetry...
bringer of insight,
harbinger of wisdom,
manifestation of
wonder.
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 5:28 PM UTC
Silence is the comfort of a conflicts hush
silence is the sound of a dead crows caw
silence ain't abatable, so don't even try
silence is thy lord's voice and his word is law
It's unquestionable, deadly, doesn't care what it kills
a force gradual and steady, from the dark our night it fills
it reeks of loneliness whilst exhuming sweet beauty
modest and loyal, quietly it does its hidden duty
crying through eyes non-existent
it's love invisible, so painfully distant
all alone, comfort gone from that old favourite song,
it's presence tranquil, opening your eyes to where you went wrong
It's neutral, doesn't take sides or excuses
a poignancy so strong, bitter and raw
twisted, life and death somehow entwined
I gazed upon its face and 'twas the most beautiful thing I've ever saw
- - - -
a vision flickering like a fuse in an abandoned house
it's rooms gas filled, primed for explosion -
I sleep and walk amongst the fields of dreams
as silence drips upon life and starts its graceless erosion.
AJ
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 4:28 PM UTC
Barefoot she walks along the beach
Retracing lost memories in ripples of sand
The murmur of the surf plays in her ears like muffled notes bowed on a cello, as the sun drips down behind the cobalt waves casting shadows to equal those of her longest night
Hushed colours paint her skin in hues of poignancy, her heart beating in rhythm with the tide as she glides through the surf
Footprints erased as if she herself had ceased to exist
A hallucination in the twilight
She pauses
Salty spray kisses her cheeks like unshed tears from fatigued days and solitary nights
Gazing out upon this vast entity
Sublime in its majesty
She recognises
The meaning of it all
Life, love, death
Images of antiquity play a delicate overture weaving dreams
A skittish child, pigtails and freckles, wearing a yellow gingham dress - collecting precious shells that will gather dust in a long forgotten attic
A timid teenager throwing pebbles into oblivion with the boy who will steal her heart, her kisses, her youth
A young family drawing their lives in the sand, building castles for the sole pleasure of knocking them down
A graceful woman cloaked in bereavement concealing a smile for the reflection of youth glimpsed in the wrinkled mirror of time
She lays herself down on a bed limestone
Silver hair fanning out amongst the seaweed
And gives her last memory
Back to the sea
(C) Pixievic
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 7:31 AM UTC