Sponsor: Regina Riddle
Contest Name: Didactic poem contest
I am Reality’s angel
resting on the broad shoulders of discovery
the truth feeds darkness and engulfs its target
ideas and concepts in turn become meaningless to you
there is a creator of all things
He is just and patient
many still have fallen into the masses of shadow
wrapped in their own filthy idols of philosophy
I have seen grown men fall like rose petals
and weaklings rise into unjust leaders
forever the follower of furtive evil
dominating only to remain inferior
the most important answers lie in the unseen regions
where no sense can fully give assurance
the mind that so many unreasonably twist and turn
grows weary because of the distance it must take
and truth be told the distance is not what frustrates
it is knowing we are seeking something far
that could very possibly not exist,
that our minds can twist into theoretical, idealistic nonsense
it is knowing all we really think we know
and yes—even a lie
all that has been written thus far rests under my wings
under the warmth in which you refuse to feel
can you believe in me—
though I am completely unseen?
how much more difficult would it be to see
I can imagine : staring in the eyes of : Elizabeth Barret Browning
Seeing the " Glory of LOVE '; bring on the " Sorrow of LOVE "
The sweet outstanding " Black LOVE " of Edgar Allen POE
" Edna St. Vincent Millay " and I Believe in GOD'S Creation
To sit beside Carrie Richards; Watching POETRY Created
To Live , In the mind of the Teacher “ Carolyn Devonshire”
To Understand the Language , as the Great Master “ Dr. Ram Mehta “
To know ,FOREVER LOVE as the “ SweetHeart” ~ Linda-Marie ~
I have Forever Dreamed: of someday being a POET Laureate
How silly is my mind, when Emotions, have Died Long Ago
Words are Earthly : I can not understand their meaning, “PURPOSE”
If Only the HEART deep with-in the Soul : could write POETRY
“ I Could “
I usually write in couplet rhyme
Its simply what I do it's not by design
It's just the way the words seem to flow
Into my head up out of my soul
I love the ones that are full of light
See they are what brought me up out of the night
People prove they care by the things that they do
So I write this light for all of you
I write it because I wish you to know
True beauty is born with-in the soul
The soul is a thing that cherishes the light
Do you not embrace the stars through the dark of night
Well as you do know my words are true
They may twinkle bright but not as bright as you
You are angels who covered me in your prayers
Let me know I'm someone worthy of care
I hold you all in my heart just like my wife
Like her you are "a blessing in my life"
Dear Lord, please grant me:
The Inspiration to write good poetry
The right words to give Inspiration
Wisdom when commenting on my fellow poets' writing
Time to actually comment in the first place
The gift of Premium Membership for a friend
An internet connection that doesn't die when I press 'submit'
A pencil that doesn't always need sharpening
The ability to write a sonnet
And, the insight to actually understand Kristin's poems
Thank you Lord. Amen
Inspired by 20 lines or Less, LIST Poem Contest
Sponsored by Kristin Reynolds
A puzzle piece you are to me
Like a vine without any leaves.
Your heart is pure your soul is
Gold, the sweetest thing I'll
ever hold! A miracle in my eyes
it seemed, knowing they said
no babies for me! Always a
surprise you seem to be just
like a puzzle piece! At 9 months
you walked but not until 4 did
you first talk! Always a terror
making a beautiful mess always
a surprise that has yet to be
met! The twists and turns I
know we will see will seem
somewhat like a roller coaster
to me! The milestones and
special gifts you bring will make
my life seem Like a dream, my
special boy I have always said
How special I knew not till
Aspergers they said! The
journey will be trying the
journey will seem long! But
with our family together we will
chug along! My special boy I
love you so and cannot wait to
see you mature and grow! Now
we have a goal we have our
dream you see to make you the
perfect fitting puzzle piece!!
Written by: Christina Kirks
McCullouch 04/05/2012 For
Jonathan S McCullouch Jr
Mommy loves you to eternity
and beyond! Forever and
Such an Amazing girl god put into my life.
He knew i needed you at that exact time
Funny when we met I thought you were to good for me
But when you approached me the sweetest girl I did meet.
From that day on we have never truly been apart cause I
carry you around everywhere in my heart. You have been the
rock when I needed a friend around, you have been the light
when the darkness consumed me and took away my sunshine
Even when were miles apart the phone connects us and keeps
our strongest bond. 17 years feels like such a short time but
I feel I have always had you in my life. Soul Sisters we were
meant to be.. You my beloved friend are such a fresh breeze
Even after a year apart it was like yesterday that we did part
so through the many miles and through the long hard road
I know this friendship will always survive. Your a burst of joy
to me each day I thank the Lord for the sweet blessing he gave!
Bitter by ; being mentally bruised and battered most of my life,
shaken with fright without a single soul to help me
through the troubles unseen horrors of the night,
from an evil source that I fear to strike.
But as the evil forces, who limited my choices
that when I found my stallion horses.
Swiftly it came to my head I can run and I cannot hide,
feeling the Beast closing in on every time I decide to hide.
Tired of running and tired of alluding this
relentless creep as my red bolt eyes weep
feeling rest-less, likes a lonely defeated warrior from his home in retreat
that is when I knew it time to rest, to release my Beast.
But in a fight, I may not win however as I cast out my dirty words sin
I made sure it felt my impact, to the bloody end.
by Keith Kadell
Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch some pails of water
Jack climbed some trees while Jill was picking some pretty flowers
After some hours Jack realized that he was wasting time
So he called Jill to hurry up before ‘tis half past nine
So off they went to continue their very long journey
‘Till they passed by an old beggar and gave him some money
When they both reached the well Jack and Jill filled up their buckets
Near the well were some berries which they put in their pockets
When they reached home their momma and papa were so happy
For dinner they had meatballs and soup and chicken curry
And five bags of bananas which a rich neighbor gave them
The good that you do to others will always be returned
Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?
Yet he lets bad things happen
How can he exist?
In the dream world where reality becomes a fantasy
And fantasy becomes reality.
The impossible is made possible and death becomes no threat. Mountains turn to a plain ground and are surmountable.
In the dream world I can do the impossible and see the invincible. I can spread my wings, soar and fly through the clouds reaching the altitude of my fortune and destiny.
In the dream world I am unstoppable and unquestionable, conquering all my adversaries. The treasures of this world are at my disposal, kings and kingdoms are my subjects.
In the dream world wishes don’t count but choices are made. That is why I have made the choice to have you as mine forever. In my dream world where there is no pain but gain, no distress but fortress, no cross but crown.
As God guided my hand to write this poem with black ink.
With love and favor He gave me words to write this in a wink.
I’ve learned that an empty heart has no compassion;
But an empty heart gets no satisfaction.
Some of us see no meaning or purpose in life.
I think because we stressed with problems and strife.
Most people appear happy and confident.
But many people still try to fill up their own void with achievement.
Faith in the life of a person is that the word must become a living force within the
soul of a man.
I put this in the poem hoping you can understand.
My mother always told me this, “that an empty heart doesn’t care,
“And definitely that a empty heart has no love to share.”
I’m not selfish but I'm doing this for me.
So I can be free and just let be.
See a part of me knows what to do.
But another piece of me has no clue.
In my life I'm making my own path.
I've sat around for days and done the math.
Having faith and believing is the only thing that keeps me going,
So I just keep positive people and things around me that is what keep me moving.
Romans 3:19-20 Now we know that whatever the law says it speaks to those who
are under the law, so that every mouth may be stopped, and the whole world may
be held accountable to God. For by works of the law no human being will be justified
in his sight, since through the law comes knowledge of sin.
My dreams and desires
Are to write to inspire
I have so much to give
That is my reason to live
Peace always invades my spirit
I’m so glad my soul welcomes it
My compass to my life is lost
I cannot navigate the way home so pen pays the cost
I will always write to find my way
To my God I pray
As the realization dawned on me
When my pen flows I’m free
I can be anybody I want to be
So many of us have to settle for a life of deception
I shall soar beyond this world's limitations
In all things, follow your heart
In life be careful how you walk and talk
Think it, believe it
Don’t hold back do it
Let your dream grow
Please let God take control
God made all people
But some better than others?
Stop being silly.
The body: sacred
We’re all made in God’s image
Gun fire all around, bombs going off in the distance
It was some of the angry mobs and resistance
Father was the king of SafeHaven a small kingdom
Like all other kingdoms it fell in random
Fire started in the castle
And along with it came a battle
It was a distance memory now because the child has now grew
Many things in this child that made memories stew
My name is Mastrey, a young orphan who was there that night
Mastrey saw her in the distance and her father and mother in his sight
Everyone was loud that night and made all the children hide
But that evening Mastrey saw her mother and father die
She ran into the bushes in such a fright
And evil doers were running around with flashlights
Mastrey remember it as he distracted them
Her eyes was so confused with problems
Mastrey new that it was because of what just occurred
His feelings of what those people did was not awkward
The distraction worked, he went back to were she was
Hiding and very scared she was, he asked her, can you trust me just because?
Her answer that night depended on her lively hood
As Mastrey was their with his hand reaching out to her as he stood
Pulling her up from the ground he looked into her eyes that were SeaBlue
Mastrey had made a life long friend and love, She knew it was true
Next: My Story Telling, Who is this Princess
A note to behold
That is strictly from my heart.
I am trained to have a little faith
Even when the night turns dry.
Maybe I am formidable to many course
But this one, I know is my call.
If at any time I will be retreating one
Not and Never will I quit my garden porch.
Even at the moment of inertia
My words are mine, not meant to be loosen.
If penury strikes me or I had a grudge
Not with my spare and axle of glory.
I may seems not to be buoyant before onlookers
But I believe My knowledge are Mine.
If there is no two ways about this
Then I am a winner of all time.
With birth is a new beginning,
A destination to a new journey ahead
From a child grown into maturity
With youth to age
From innocent to awareness
And ignorance to just knowing,
Perhaps to wisdom
From the weakness to the strength
Health to sickness
We pray to good health again
A path each of us follow
With dreams of success in our lives
To being happy with bliss and love our selfs
And one another
We could have a life filled with loves joy
To treasure always forever
A new life miracle is born into that
First new life of natures blessings
Never take anything for granted
For this new life is a gift from the heavens
To always cherish forever and each is unique
By Brian otoole
I do not know?
I write words that take me to another dimension
one that lies in my head yet exceeds all limitations of existence
I write words that even I cant understand at some points
because I am not completely aware of this world that exists within me
I am not in control of what I write
I am not in control of when I write
I am merely a tool that I uses to reach his goals
The question that remains unanswered however, is who is I?
I is I but I is not I yet I and I are one
But if I and I are the same being then will I die when my time has come?
I am unaware of I but I know he exists,because I is able to control me when I wants
Its seems to be a divine design neither of us can defy
Which makes us seem like one
But I remains like a spy lurking in his lair
And I know not his secrets yet I knows mine and I hardly think that is fair
Yet I seem so free and I is trapped see I cannot move beyond my hair
Because I is not free to wonder around nor does I even care
See I to him the world does not appeal such a close minded being I is
I cannot see the importance of life and the happiness it can bring
I seems to believe that I only exists to understand what is beyond these material things
I cannot believe you were going to waste a poem writing about how I am unable to see
When it is clear to me that you are so blind and unaware that you have been deceived
When will you understand you foolish sheep your lusts and desires are going to brings us to our knees
but I swear on myself , as long as i’m here ,we will never admit defeat,
the problem is i have to drag you along because whether i like it or not
I and I are one so I and you are me
But fear not you foolish being your body will be safe its your mind that I need
so lets make this clear, clear your mind so I may use it to reach what I and we seek
The night air made her feel tired
As she looked out side all the fences were wired
In the distance she hears crowds yelling
As she was to young to know they were rebelling
Father she asked where are we going?
Mother said to keep quiet and keep walking
Mother yelled in the night air
Father gave out a blank stare
They yelled run my princess run as far as you can
As that moment past her little feet pushed off and she ran
She ran to the nearest bushes and crawled into it to hide
She never smelled the air before as if someone just had died
As she lay on the ground under a bush she heard
A loud yell in the distance almost to absurd
My name is Angelica, I am just a young girl who does not know
Angelica just wants to live her life with help to grow
Angelica did not know what just happened she notice a figure in the distance
A little person just like her, a strong but gentle presence
Angelica saw the people who were shouting run off toward the voice
She was scared and she knew that she had to make a choice
Angelica fragile state was so confused and lost
She knew it will take burden on her at a cost
But in that moment of quietness a young but strong voice called out
Can you trust me just because? will you come with me with no doubt
My Story Telling Together In A Strange World
A serpent underneath blue sky,
in shade of man, in twinkle of an eye,
above brick wall, in the structure, at the floor,
venom of white dove; contaminated food, undrinkable water,
misguided youth, pregnant daughter, unfaithful father and hateful son,
mothers do pray while we walk through Babylon;
on teli and in the press, on top shells,
price none the less, in bedroom and at your door..
dawn of a new day seemed to be dark,
Walking in the meadow of life on that summer day
Where she always loved to be at Una walked along the steady stream
As she picked up the white Lilly flower and put upon her hair of gold (princess of love)
And the daughter of a dander king
Una suddenly turned her head to the old orchard tree and begun to sing roman lullabies of joy
With tears of affection shed for the god who lives above the skies
At that moment she gazed back to the stream
And there the lion stood so tall just like a king eyes wide looked to una
As she went toward the mighty lion he went to her and utter'd thee words
I am a creature of pride with nothing to hide I am pure of heart true of courage with a mask of savage a mane gold as our hearts-
She became very happy and intrigued
As she laid her gentle hands on upon the lion she spoke these words
-I love thee lion and by sun and moon I love thee freely as men strive for right;
I love thee purely in my old griefs and childhood's faith
There a tiny lamb appears right next to her and the lion
So small and graceful like a gift from god above
The tiny lamb followed them further into the enchanted meadow sky as crystal blue and the wind is calm they drifted off strung into the world
To bring new love joy and courage to the world and spread good faith
Forgive me Father for I have sinned,
for being born with you to begin,
its been a long time since my last confession,
I don't wont your blessing,
lies and resurrection.
I don't believe in love, I don't believe in faith,
cant stand my own kind,
humble in hate,
I don't believe in truth, I don't wont to be saved,
erase me from your list,
Abused as a child,
bloodstains of a man,
only shovel awaits,
forgive me if you can.
I think I self-sabotage unknowingly
because of fear
So my message goes unheard because I’m afraid to let the people hear
And end up drowning in the poetic blues
doubting my ability to write about the truth;
I dug deeper and deeper into myself trying to write a poem good enough to be free of judgment
Then I stepped out on faith and suddenly I was triumphant
and my writing grew
and I was loving it
I had finally passed the fear of speaking and caring about who the fu*c! was judging it
As I wait to be inspired for the next poem,
I sit and think alone and drown in my sorrows
Listening to jazz, blues and a.m. radio
trying to find an excuse not to perform at the SLAM
because again I can’t think of a damn thing to write…..
Drowning in poetic blues
Will this be the one that will be thrown away and never be used
Or will this be the one that transcends the others
and finally prove that poetry is blues and blues is poetry and hip hop and jazz and r&b,
Poetry is music and the words dance around in my soul
and I am free once they become spoken
In the meantime the paper is where the words will rest
until the silence is broken
Drowning in the sea of proper delivery
My voice, my stance, my intensity
How will others interpret the words that I’ve chosen so diligently?
I wrap my soul around the possibility that none of the words I choose –
will keep me from becoming deluged and trapped by the poetic blues
Somehow my heart refuses to accept that I don’t deserve to have my words heard
and it takes over this whole process
No more time for shrinking and feeling less
I was born to make my words manifest light
I am a gorgeous medium to the truth yeah that's right
I was sent here to give you a piece of good news
Remember that God is with you when you get
The poetic blues
Stimulating ideas pop into your head
You need a pen…you need a piece of lined paper
It looks like you’re outtah luck…no wonder you’re drowning in dread
You need a shoulder to lie your head down for a moment’s rest…
You need a helper…to aid you while you struggle emotionally…
I’m not trying to irritate you purposely
Try with all your might…try your best
To stay optimistic and fervent
I believe that you’ll pass the test
Be upbeat, kindhearted and jubilant
I appreciate the words you wrote on my notebook…
Sometimes, I feel like leftovers left on the counter…
I’m a rotten mess – you’re leaving me as if I’m an uninteresting book
Sometimes, I feel like a coward – I don’t mean to bother…
But, you’re like no other . . .
You’re like a mat – you’re constantly stepped on…
I’m like YOUR unwanted tool –
I stepped on you and
Pushed your buttons
I accused you of being the fool
When, in fact, I’m the fool by your side…
You’re drifting…pushing me aside…
I’m writing words of truth though –
Expressing how much I’m fond of you
I esteem your presence
Glowing with glee
At times, you do say things without thinking
I’m the god of distress –
You’re leaving me breathless
Cutting me down like I’m some decaying tree
You don’t see how much you make me…
Guilty for your crimes
Taking the blame about the hundredth time
At times, I feel that I’m awkward when I’m around you
You’re like a backpack – you carry everyone’s weight…
You’re like a sponge – soaking in our stress
I’m a distraction to you – you’re wasting valuable time…but don’t hesitate
I’m writing words of self-centered feelings – logic doesn’t exist…
But these feelings aren’t as bad as committing a crime
These feelings come and go – I just had to confess
I didn’t mean to screw up your progress…
Hey, if you need a few sheets of paper to right on,
Use me like a notebook instead…and write with all your might
It seems as if you read me…like a book that drags on and on
Use me as your tool of relaxation… and read me all night
When you wrote those words on my notebook…
It made my day…you’re such a delight
Like reading a fascinating, classic book
As a writer always writing about my life everyday, I have to write this when I say that this is the only way that I know I know how to speak and write about "My" life before I "Die" in these reservation cold streets like many of my own people.
I have hope for something better and bigger beyond our cold rez life streets here in money rich America.
I'm trying not to be another victim or just another number and I'm especially not trying to become just another "Rest in Piece" or just another "In Loving Memory Of".
I'm trying to leave something behind for my people but especially for my "yet to understand daugher", and this is the only way I know how to leave my very own one of a kind unique individual thoughts behind is through paper, but now what make's it even better now days for us is the "Internet", and my Internet crowd and across sea's internet crowd will listen to my words more than my "family" or "friends" ever will, and this is the only way I can truly be there for my family, my friends, my people and my daughter is in these words that I write, in this words in which I speak, and I have to be careful about what I write because it can help, but more often than not I can make them hurt, but I got to be careful about whom these words I write and speak about.
I got to be more about helping than hurt as a True Lone Poet Speaking Life as "A Writer Always Writing".
This is a poem.
It's not abstract.
So if you just sit back and listen,
I'm going to say this poem twice,
so listen with your heart the first time
but listen with your heart again
Say good morning when someone says good morning to you
Speak when spoken to
Look a person in the eye and be confident even if you're not
and be willing to learn what you know not
Don't be so quick to speak out loud
and then cover your mouth in shame
once you realize what just came out
It's too late - so think before you shout
Be accountable for your actions
Your character is defined by what you do when people aren't looking
because when they are
They see in your behavior all the doings of the heart
So be honest with yourself and do the right thing...it's not hard
Use life's resources
I know what it's like to be in dark places
going through trials - unhappy child
But learning and reading and growing is all relative to your future
So escape in a poem or good book
and don't let the enemy defeat you
Stay in touch with positive members of your family ties
Record yourself saying wonderful things about your life
Recite them daily...then write
Be the first to offer respect
give others a chance to talk
Be humble, but never nobody's fool
Don't allow others to mistreat you
Stand up for your rights and have a voice,
but do it with dignity and be tactful.
Go ahead..wear your skinny jeans and your bangles
but accept other for their style, their view
see things from their angle
Pull those pants up..tuck those shirts in
and stop trying to be gangsta
If I can see your underwear thats unacceptable behavior
and it's not okay
It's embarrasing to the struggle and it's a disgrace
It's time to move past the stereotypes of race
I know you got alot to face
but once you learn what your ancestors did to get you to this place,
It will seem like a walk in the park
and you'll be proud to have helped the case
Young people I tell you
if you follow these rules
You can change the world
and become a generation renewed
What is it to see the soil of home again?
A welcome, snow-struck and a return
To cold; sharp white contrasts sunburn.
We converse in broken tongues to men
We know, hooked on holiday language
Comprised of wandering hand signs.
Collect the car and pay parking fines,
Drive through towns and over a bridge
Until we reach the Western gateway.
Oh when will we arrive at our house?
No camels there, only field mouse
Which are eaten by our cat anyway.
The plane flies for an age, slyly yawning
Through the stretching, pealing sky,
A knife through air; what it is to fly.
Our travels over; a new day is dawning.
I doubt myself, real bad sometimes
I think - why did that happen to me
How could I possibly write that nice poem?
And if I did it once, how can I do it again?
Because I don’t know or forgot how too
With pen in hand, the magic flows again
But the words come from the pen’s pointy end
Not from me, I just write what I’m told
messenger boy, only transcribing
I take no credit except for criticizing
But not for spelling mistakes, that’s Gates’ job
Although he really doesn’t know
The difference between to and too
Hint, it doesn’t make four
Whoa, the pen just ran out of words.