"songful" poems
Grieving the death of yesterday,
and the fearful beginning of a new today,
Sits the mourning dove,
perched upon its pine tree palace.
The call of the sorrowful dove;
a soft, songful lament against the dawn's awakening.
Beneath the blue jay's ballad,
countered by the crow's cackle.
The mourning of the fallen, unknown to the world.
The mourning of the lost and forgotten.
Not singing, not chirping;
Just grieving.
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 10:02 PM UTC
Tensions high,
like broken kite strings,
reaching further away,
escaping the empty earth
in your arms.
Creeping chatter,
pouring inky letters,
in runny messes
all over my hands,
feeling bruised by you;
the sting, the slap
as leaking words
drip drip drip
from your mouth,
the broken tap.
I’m tired.
I’m so tired of hearing
soft
whispered yearnings
scratching the back of your throat.
Desperation, loneliness?
You beg with the croon in your tone,
you play along like the gentle little
sweetling,
a songful, humming love,
all warm in cupped hands.
In all this time,
this achingly long time
I’ve played as your neat little trick;
the showman’s trusty pet,
small dove flying
as soon and only when you release me.
String caught up around my waist,
I’ll never fly too far.
As I walked away,
that night with the moon trailing my form,
and pooling in pillows cradled in my soft footsteps,
you watched my back
stretch lean and tall and
stand
away from you.
You looked back,
it was the moon shifting through my hair,
when I turned to notice
a head shake,
a blink in the empty settling air you left behind.
….Drip….drip….drip,
you leak all those notions I wished you
would one day say,
those heart-melting flatteries,
desirable admissions,
I’m the only one you want,
to keep you satisfied,
keep you going and touching and loving
and exploring and breaking,
until your other girl comes home.
You ask and plead and return,
lapping and licking in my arms,
wanting my form so bad again;
you cry for all the fun in the world,
but this time, it just can’t.
You’re just my broken tap.
You’d need to stop dripping ***** water one day.
You’d need to stop echoing around me at night,
cradling myself to keep my strength enough
to say no to what I wanted and got for so long.
But you’re just my delicate and lovely broken tap.
I’ll always love you somehow, and feel so dangerous,
intoxicating and breathtaking
as you made me so.
You showed me so.
But I can’t wait for you to cease on your own.
Pull me round with you, wait for you,
tossed like an empty drink because of you.
Maybe
I just need to let you
let me go.
Like I cried to let you go first.
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 9:06 AM UTC
"where love is.... a jealous girl
of the wind."
i.
falling like a leaf
that sings to the sky
the cresting wave
draws down,
the honey sea
a miracle of dance.
ii.
deep vision of blue,
caves of grey iron,
the waters pool,
drifting with the
icy wind.
iii.
sharp vowel of
frozen earth,
the songful
depths of winter
sink like the seas,
the dark notes
of the clouds an
accent above the
vaulting hills.
iv.
i sink like the seas
before your love,
my knees trembling,
my legs aroused,
i am a storm that
gathers the
horizons of your
sky, burnt into the
honeycombs of
the wind full of
winter
song.
v.
the sky must sigh,
the wind whisper
to the sea; “take
me home.”
vi.
i see you and my
body melts, your
love the breath of
the sea, the magical
tides of the clouds.
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 12:55 PM UTC
O Autumn! thou hast splendidly array'd
Nature, whose robes are treasure-rich with colour.
A patchy quilt of dying leaves decay'd,
Thou blanketest the world with deathly dolour.
I hear a voice inside my head. I list.
"Come buy, come buy," I hear in my mind's ear.
The pulse doth quicken suddenly in my wrist:
The netherworld hath never been so near.
I hearken to the rattling of the leaves
That hang like vampyre bats from skeletal trees.
The songful birds that nested 'neath the eaves
Have long since flown away with high degrees.
I'm cold and getting colder, and my breath
Is telling me I'm close to coming Death.
Oct 3, 2024
Oct 3, 2024 at 5:50 PM UTC
Waves come crashing on
moonlit shores and sandy tides,
songful yet divine
Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 4:08 AM UTC
There are stories in her voice.
I just hope all of them ended with Happily Ever After.
Oct 19, 2023
Oct 19, 2023 at 8:37 PM UTC
You are by far worth more than anything in your life,
as God has priced you at the cost of His life’s blood.
He has created you for something great.
He has called you to be His treasure.
You are His beautiful, wonderful masterpiece,
uniquely hand-fashioned for the display of His splendor.
In troubles and sorrows you are never forgotten,
for there is a Savior who will deliver you through every trial.
When the pain lingers close, Jesus remains nearer
to watch out for you when all else has abandoned you.
And though you may crumble, you’ll surely be caught,
for God loves you and guards you in His providential hand.
Joyfully watching for our Lord to come once more,
we set our hope firmly on the glory of that Day
where everyone shall bow before the King of heaven
and give no weighted thought to the vanities of Earth.
For He is majestic, and all who see Him are in Awe,
falling down in songful symphony, "Worthy is the Lamb!"
He came to the earth to sacrifice Himself for all of us,
embracing, with joy in sight, both thorns and cross.
For His desire was to please the Father always,
redeeming from death's dark slavery a chosen bride
to be His people who will trust Him and His love.
And in that love and trust, they find their worth and rest.
Jul 27, 2021
Jul 27, 2021 at 10:41 AM UTC
Blessed with a sky of waterfall
I let my thoughts run amok the greedy raindrops
The beats, the trickle and the gush
Resting on concrete sand
With nothing but thin fabrics that clung to my skin
It's a silence of pleasure
Being caressed by the cold
Surprisingly peaceful
To let the wind slowly, at a leisurely pace
Invade your body's temperature
Humming in your ear
A songful of promises
That faith never fails
And patience rewards
Tempting you to stay seated
Wait out the storm
The clash of waves a raw entertainment
And a rumble of applause
Somewhere beyond those thick clouds of uncertainties
Words unspoken
I let myself listen instead
Letting the mysteries solve themselves
Unanswered questions
Offering crystal answers
And found it rather enjoyable
Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 3:22 AM UTC
You have been missed,
like the spring kissed meadows---
sprung from a daffodil's lips
Hiding behind the blushing cheeks
of coral reefs, a giggling hum--
does brush against my eardrum
And so, the echo of your playful steps
return mine thoughts in songful breeze,
soft sway like the mosses that planted
our heads in day---
Softer yet, than the whispered words lay
peeking above air--- I swear to where the
shadows fall beneath us
By light, there was stars---
gifted in no dark that eyes can see
Were it to be a soul's reverie,
I followed the birds--
they move with shivers
Cold,
why snowflakes in May?
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 10:31 AM UTC
We snapped memories into photobook
Watching the edges of songful hedges
Draw a hopeful singlet of grace of
Testimonies conquered in neglected verses.
We played from the check of honoured
Dimples crossing routes of perfections.
Here are tunes playing from the photoshop
Of our hearts designing graphics cards
Filled with affections &bubbles of love.
Portrait of tomorrow carved an amazing
hours in the street decorated with colours.
these are colours depicting greatness
freshness &braveness of the voiceful heart
Kitchened through the celestial laughter
Of a slighting mother to her joyfulness.
We are similar, singular and opposite,
We are plural of everything humanity,
Sweetness of every singing lyrics & verses.
Let's this fondleness remain captivating
boys. Sweet. Bitter. Acidic. Sour. Raw.
Reflection of the World Series of smiles
Printing names on carved pumpkins leafs
Boys carrying themselves in their shadows
Carrying themselves in memories of their
Parents' pastoral culture and languages.
Boys spinning into crispy treats of white
dreams written on the stream of the skies.
We are fascinated about the rare cloud
journeying towards the stars of our souls
Harbouring our names in a bag of colours
Imagination are doubtful unperturbed pictures
Painted in the innocent face of boys of tomorrow
After the sun bent the tremour of our rushes
The rain came like a troubadour warrior
Between veteran lips of boys who went &never
returned memories of their family portraits.
We are boys carrying our family's loss
We are boys carrying our Father's legacy
Bearing the pursuit of our fathers yesterday
Look into our eyes & see our imaginations
those imaginations created by our ancestral
ancestors for tomorrow to hold our peace.
We may not know that these sands are made
of ridges of boys like us who went carrying
Pictures of dreams that we could not retrieve.
©John Chizoba Vincent
From_A_Pen_Refusing_Frustration
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 1:44 PM UTC
I almost fell in love but I took it buried it with my pen.
Tried to promise to not let it surface again.
My brain forced my logic to creep in.
I just dived back into paper with pen.
I wanted to watch your beauty its like a rainbow.
I reminded myself one day it would turn to winter cold ice and snow.
You walked by me close enough for me to feel the
warm beauty in your shadow.
I told myself it wasn't what could comfort my tomorrow.
You became my beautiful songful muse.
I realized that began to leave me feeling a bit confused.
Bubbles forced themselves out from my harmony they sparkled
they did rise.
To you it was no surprise.
Those bubbles left colorful tears in my eyes.
I begged mercy to keep away any kind of calamity.
Fight away the passions that dazzle to drown me.
Trying to break free..
stringed like kisses planted all over me.
Trying to break free as you decided to secrete from me.
Advance from the tracks you left all over my body and its
memory.
Maybe it was all a state of my unnecessary reclines.
Now seeing our lengthy messages and unsent replies.
Dreaming about weird unsorted things.
Recalling bells with no rings.
Giving freely inconsiderately of me.
Almost I almost walked away from me..
Things deserved that are best for me.
I remembered I could cope.
Wait on what's good for me, I remembered there's always Hope.
By SelinaSharday S.A.M All Rights Reserved 2019
Aug 14, 2019
Aug 14, 2019 at 11:59 AM UTC
this fog xeroxes
a blank mind...
dues eX machina.
curled up in bright raindrops
that cling to the idea
of a branch.
as a certain Mr. Darko stabs at
a mirror...Bunnymen Echo
through the fog.
diving down the holes
of her "Killing Moon".
those
songful submissions of dire
lyrical agency.
Mr. Darko will stare out
impolitely...till the lunar
mission completes itself.
Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 1:30 PM UTC
Jealousy,
over the heights
Jealousy,
over your fate.
I am sure you were undecided
of tasting the cloud's wonder
and untold
of the grandeur up above
I am sure that was an "undreamt-of"
life with enticing birds amidst
their songful chirp..
what are the odds that
the only sound
we hear from around
is a beautiful music
and the beautiful music
we hear from around
is the only sound
you pine tree! you got that!
what an irony! you never pine!
you always got that
But let you have it
for that's what
makes you a pine tree
and that's what makes me wonder.
Fate has made a choice
to allow me witness you..
what a sound choice!
But I aint you
What a sloppy choice!
Don't be jealous,
for you cannot see you..
you can still watch me admire you..Pine Tree
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 4:18 AM UTC
Shall we lock our fingers and
make a vow, that forever we shall be poetry friends.
Come what may thru thick or thin..
Should we high five fist pump and grin.
As we harmonize compose, collaborate to win
We can go at it give it our best spin.
Then hug it our for we will always be Poetry kin.
all for the love and the fun..
Poetry rappin words won.
Poetry in common..
Poetry kinfolk.. talented pens...
singing, dancin.. poetic vibe relatin..
No Kinfolk type hatin.. We are relating..
We are Poetic Winds, songful streams,
Lighted beams. Spoken dreams!!
Doing our talented things...
Oct 11, 2021
Oct 11, 2021 at 11:21 AM UTC