in darkest watches
of the night
like elvish sprites-
of children filled-
with summer rapture
a quest to capture
the purpling skies
and delighted cries
Copyright © Rob Metcalf | Year Posted 2011
The joy of childhood, with endless laughter,
innocent games, finding life‘s delight
to enjoy the adventure thereafter
with wonders of new journeys to excite.
Sweet smile of a boy and a girl, modest
to share the secret dreams of fairytales.
In childhood innocence always honest
to feel joy, as a happy end entails.
No boundaries of happiness with plays,
carefree games, songs of joy, cheerful hap,
in times of sadness tenderness always
found in the comfort of a mothers lap.
Joy of childhood, forget not it’s sweetness,
Behold! The tenderness remains endless.
Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2015
Just beneath the throat is a hot porridge
the body knocks down but still operate
heat all over, jump into the nearest fridge
sight shivers in its domain so temperate
morning light is covered by one big ridge
aches and weariness don't want to separate
from the stomach to the mouth is a bridge
for a crazy out pour to generate
since last sweet night, the mind is in a flop
quick and short morbidity from its groove
sips and gulps in an interplay nonstop
require the next coffee to disapprove
long consciousness puts the being back on top
back to normal and Life is on the move.
Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2016
With one click, I can stop the hands of time,
nothing can move, not even an enzyme.
The world is so peaceful, when it's in pause,
there is so much mischief that I can cause.
I can run riot, no one can stop me,
take whatever I want, all things are free.
Stop someone when they are going crazy,
or steal a kiss from a pretty lady.
Rob a bank and take as much as I like,
or stop a sportsman, before he can strike.
Look at the answers during an exam,
stop a salesman, when you know it's a sham.
Cause all that trouble and no one will know,
performing my own entertainment show.
18 June 2016
My super power poetry contest by Lewis Raynes
10 syllables per line.
Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016
Moist jungle's steaming breath assaults my face
Molasses air I struggle to inhale
Your ruddy visage slowly drains to pale
Sharp cliff, black knife wound in the verdant space
Decrepit footbrige held up by mere grace
Each rope suspended taut by one sole nail
No time for turning back, it's move or fail
Their fever burns, thin lives that wane apace
We're down to you or me; I see I've lost
Your pallid tremors, so I walk on high
Death matters not, as all will share the cost
Without the cure, those that I love will die
Wood creaks as ropes strain, hands sweat, mind of frost
Firm terra I touch, sweet success is mine
Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016
(my part six entry into the crown sonnet started by Debs)
Ahead the bear in sudden motion stands.
I want to turn and run, but this is not
my way; I grasp my knife in trembling hands.
This fight will be like none I’ve ever fought!
The beast is greatly wounded; I can tell
by how he weaves, and I must take his life!
His neck I’ll strike. I breathe in; then exhale. . .
With all my might, I lunge out with my knife.
My free wrist he has clawed, but I am good!
Again and then again, I thrust and thrust.
Blood gushes from him as I knew it would.
I willed his death, for in myself I trust.
His warmth I’ll take by scraping fur from skin.
I bow before the bear to honor him.
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014
When the time arrives for me to depart
from the sunlit harbors of the living.
Take me aboard a navy fighting ship
and carry me back again to the sea.
Order the boatswain to construct a skid
made of wood and painted with fresh white paint.
Build it to hold a gray weighted coffin
draped by Old Glory with her stars and stripes.
Cruise the coast of my beloved home Whidbey
until full abreast with Ebey’s Landing.
Muster the funeral party astern
Play taps and slide me into the blue drink.
Let the storm-flecked waves of the rolling sea
take this old sailor to his final peace.
Copyright © Gary Jones | Year Posted 2007
A kindred spirit halfway 'round the world
I can not see his face only his heart
His kind words and verses reveal his pearls
Exuding confidence and mind so sharp
Does he hoist his sail with wind in his face
And drop his anchor in quiet lagoons
Or keep wind to the rear as if to race
Send dreams up high like helium balloons
Does he smile and whistle returning home
Reconnecting to his past and old friends
Maybe stay in the present ne'er to roam
And live within and on no one depend
I think it would be nice to sit and talk
And to share some laughs on a friendly walk
an original poem by the "poemdog" Daniel Turner (DT)
Pearls referring to pearls of wisdom in line 3
Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016
As the men of the great sea carry me
Assuring them of safe travel on water
Courage and serenity are given free
Am restless anxiety adjuster
Feel so soft smooth as nestled in pocket
Look deeply into my pale blue colors
Ye men of wide sea who wear bluejacket
Those who my purpose are sure acceptors
How my healing powers strength your heart
Throat, spleen, immune system, mouth, ears, breating
Offering protection for journey chart
Constantly in your pocket safely abiding
Mental, emotional, physical
Aquamarine polished smooth possible alchemy
Written for Stoned Contest
Sponsor: Catie Lindsey
Contest had closed when posted
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2011
The moon plays at being the midnight sun
with abandon he struts across the sky
in such majesty it catches my eye
I bow in obeisance, my heart is won
Behind him come plunderous clouds of white
riders on horses with dust in their wake
racing steeds on a quest to overtake
the renegade moon in his selfish plight
Closing in for capture they poise their net
as the stars watch their proud King's demise
the clouds press on eager to seize the prize
and use the moon's light to their own benefit
The final bugle sounds, in hues of gold
The sun peeks up to watch it all unfold
Copyright © Erica Lewis | Year Posted 2009
The night emits a citronella scent
From tiki torches topped with living flame;
I swim in circles -- softly speak your name --
While starlight washes over us, content.
Cicadas still sing secrets to the trees
Like Summer's heartbeat throbbing in the dark --
While on a new adventure we embark,
Sped onward by a silent, gentle breeze.
Your kisses ripple slowly down my spine --
Your touch is strong and steady, like the tide --
Warm bodies wrapped in motion dip and glide --
You turn the turbid sea to fragrant wine.
The rising moon gives witness to my cries;
Tonight I drown within your ocean eyes.
Copyright © M. Teresa Blaylock | Year Posted 2006
Meeting Van Gogh…sonnet
the wheat-field, blond as a Volga German milk maid, heat
intense and in the shade of a demanding olive tree I saw
grumpy Van Gogh, glaring at me intruding on his painting.
“Sorry for the scooter it is electric blue and doesn’t fit in,
pretend it is a donkey free of its leather harness.”
The vines, deep green leaves and fertile soil, soon there
would be grapes, mostly dark cerulean, an army of wine
to come tempting souls into surrender… liquid pleasures;
and the narrow road snakes amongst fields like a black
mamba hunting grey rabbits in the meadow.
I have the afternoon sun in my eyes, a cooling breeze
on my back; and then I drive off the road fall amongst
thistle and thorns and the spell is broken, look around
but only Van Gogh witnessed my disgrace.
Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2012
Monday morning slowly waking
Waking to a drizzly rain
Rain that comes down ever whispering
Whispering, time to wake again!
Again my mind’s ever churning
Churning with thoughts of the day
Day of poetry and yearning
Yearning for what I must say.
Say in words what I am feeling
Feeling in this early morn
Morn with my words ever forming
Forming… a new format born!
Born by chance I can’t deny
Deny ‘tis useless, I must try!
Copyright © Betty Janko | Year Posted 2016
A jiggling rush of energy
Wags along our messed-up stair
As Lullie huffs with a naughty glee,
To cause mayhem beyond compare!
My dachshund begs to play tag -game
With flopping of ears , this just disarms;
While dog’s trick to win is one big shame
She guards me dear from any harm.
Lullie sleeps often in my bed
Her belly twirling all around;
I wonder of mischief ahead
Till fingers trace a rounder mound.
Oh baby pups arrive, although
Lullie's mate, that I'll never know!
Shadow Hamilton's Pets
~ A true story ~
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014
A child was I in Space Odyssey awe
when rocketeers on lunar ascent shone;
In Sea of Tranquility my eyes saw
Ground Control to Major Tom...engines on!
New age Columbus kings voyage and realm
in ships on alien frontiers stranded;
new worlds beyond and Earth men at the helm
till three...two...one..."the Eagle has landed".
Mission to scout astral planes in deep space
led Command Module on orbiting stay,
leaving flag and footprint in human trace
on re-entry splashdown on the eighth day.
In your tin can you rode the sonic boom
to the stars on the dark side of the moon.
Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2014
I went to camp one year to feel so free
Not one of us got sick at all for sure
I went into the river to see and fish
But I was pushed into water so pure
Setup the tent to sleep the night away
With bites that itch kept up the night so sad
The next we thought an idea to try to sway
Insects that bit we net and killed so glad
We slept all night away till sun came up
The dew on tents a view I like for morning
We had a fire to warm water in cup
The drink was strong to wake us up with warning
The camp worker had said there was a fire
Among them all practiced putting it out
Bond fire was great to have this year campfire
We all was new to have much fun no doubt
Now home we go in weeks been gone delay
Running around forest so fun O.K.
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2015
The hunter hunted; the past comes stalking,
breath now visible, I quicken my pace,
dusk has fallen, nature is now talking,
autumn's chill causes my heart to race.
My eyes scan dense forest from left to right,
I stop, gain my footing in the thicket,
only branch and crimson leaves in my sight,
owls call out, and prey upon the cricket.
Voices seem to speak from the babbling brook,
cold stones, worn smooth, waters of countless days,
eyes are everywhere, yet nowhere I look,
something is near, I cannot get away.
Struggling, my arrow kept at the ready,
my once stealthy hand, is now unsteady.
This was my original entry for Debbie Guzzi's contest - "A Crown of Sonnets"
(This is also the first sonnet that I had ever written.)
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014
At some point, my legs begin to converse
of time spent on the trail, rest now needed,
For like a horse's labors exceeded,
the strength mere food and water can't traverse
Beyond exhaustion, repose will reverse
Thus respite, backpack set down and relieved
of duties, containing my home achieved,
until such time as rested legs endorse
my return to trails, and onward I go;
Traveling far Appalachia’s way,
witness to wonders and all living things,
in far towns and altitude, well below,
where nature’s flora and colors bouquet;
To motivate legs that have become wings.
Written: April 25, 2014
for Craig Cornish's Miltonic Sonnet Contest
Copyright © Michael Wegman | Year Posted 2014
Imagine sitting in the sand at the beach,
The sand between your toes and just close
enough where the water can reach.
The sand is wet and a little cold,
You look out at the clear blue sky you see the
sun shining like a piece of gold.
You see dolphins jumping in the distance,
Glad that they're apart of existence.
You see a flock of seagulls soar,
You lay back and close your eyes listening to
the waves crashing onto the shore.
Smelling the salty water and the sun hitting
The warm and comfort you feel within.
You hear kids as they laugh and play,
Smiling because today was a great day.
May 04, 2014
~ The One and Only~
Copyright © Pamela Bland | Year Posted 2014
The Pirate and the Sea
Come sail to sea with me
Let me show ye how it’s done
Sailing that is, I’m not the only one
Let’s go sailing on the sea
Many a storm, thar will be
But yer life has just begun
Look up and see the shining sun
Did you hear that loud boom?
Just listen’ ta them thar drums
Tonight they be drinking rum
As pirates we’ll have a blast
Ye’ll be dying whilst yer young
Ship’s a sinking fast
Life at sea really be such fun
Copyright © Linda Barr | Year Posted 2012
I revel in the falling leaves
their fluttering flight to ground
I listen to the falling leaves
hear their pitter-patter sound.
Oh see, the ruby red, the pale gold,
the omnipresent sable brown.
Look, see the shivering birch let loose...
add their colors all around.
What glory's found, as form takes flight
each transformed, re-formed, astounds,
May we detach with such serene grace
when our earthly life's unbound.
Oh, listen to the falling leaves
see them rest, upon the breast of ground.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012
It's time to book a holiday
Where we'll go I cannot say
A beach resort, or bush retreat
Maybe a chalet cosy, sweet
Maybe somewhere across the seas
In Bali they tell me "life's a breeze"
Somewhere I haven't been before
Same, same, it can be a bore
Now I know, I have a plan
Perhaps I'll take a pin in hand
Stick it somewhere on a map
This could do the trick may haps
But I want to go somewhere
Just anywhere I just don't care
Copyright © Vera Duggan | Year Posted 2015
The Great Outdoors
The great outdoors is a place filled with many fuzzy critters.
Yes, sometimes when I swim in the cold morning the water gives me the jitters.
I love the great outdoors, the great red wood trees wave at one another.
They wave at each other, as if they were family; maybe they knew each other.
Green patches of grass surround the log cabin that I occupy in the summer.
My pole casts away in a quick and timely matter, but of course, what a bummer
My prize and trophy fish got away from me in this white crappie infested water.
I guess the next thing for me to do is to dock this boat that rocks like a teeter-totter.
The summer time is the best time to be alive around the fourth of July.
Staying up all night into the morning looking up to see the night-lights of the sky.
As you grow older, you learn too appreciate the smells and sounds summer brings.
Enjoy the little things, like moss floating on the creeks, and even bumblebee stings.
Hamburgers and hot dogs, potatoes and gravy and don’t forget dessert.
This is the smell, sounds, and memories that are made in the great outdoors spurt.
Copyright © Trent Turney | Year Posted 2015
The trains of old, were dubbed the “iron horse”;
newer trains were known as, “bullets”, of course.
Flying past with the speed of light;
they cross the world, both day and night.
Once coal and steam propelled these beasts;
today the beasts are fast, but weak.
Of tin and vinyl, these are made;
of fiberglass and plastic panes.
With electricity, they are now, propelled;
nevertheless, they do not run as well.
No personality, have these new trains;
they’re not pretty; just quite plain.
If only man could see the facts;
He’d not hesitate, to bring, the old trains back.
Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2015
the sheer notion of extorted kindness buried beneath a sorrowful note of racketeering compassion above a silent whisper throughout the queerness of being wise beyond a tarnished silver spoon of tangible lessons shattered throughout blind faith cringing for life after death
Copyright © Yolanda Jones | Year Posted 2012
THE RABBIT CHASE
We went out for a walk, my friend and I
through forest flaming red and yellow gowned
not caring that the world was racing by
nor thinking more nor less to lose its sound.
Our stepping cracked the leaves beneath our feet,
and I should know, my friend was closer than
most any love my heart could ever meet;
devoted from the time our time began.
We chased a rabbit for the simple fun
not caring that we won--but ran the race,
and how he wiggled in his silly run
his big ears flopping all about his face.
Night fell much earlier than we would care
but couldn't chill what we were doing there.
© Ron Wilson Arbuthnot
aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2015
For years I’ve lived with being a soixante-huiter
Although my wardrobe’s more fastidious and neater
Those heady days are not beyond recall
The nights and days when we first did it all
But sober work and ethics have combined
To make a settled bed my truest mind
And catalogues and dictionaries my woe
To understand what happened long ago
Far flung days have their own allurement
But nothing beats the logic of procurement
And adventitious loves have gone the way
Of all youth, to say it’s had its day
I daren’t even call myself a woman sweeter -
Past perfect indiscretions tend to tweet her.
Copyright © Rosemarie Rowley | Year Posted 2015
Every music piece is distinctive
Most lyrics are positive
It doesn't matter if she kissed a girl or said you’re so gay
Lovely to create a teenage dream
Admirable to be an enthusiastic philanthropist
When she roars, fireworks engulf the sky
The charisma she shares unconditionally
Her perfume spreads the fragrance that meows
The Killer Queen fragrance refreshes the senses
Her breakdown in life lifts her yet again
Katheryn Elizabeth Hudson known as Katy Perry
Marches into the symphony of music
Lending her voice in Smurfs
She dazzles into the soul of her fans
Copyright © Bhavna khemlani | Year Posted 2014
into the darkness we shall find peace;
into our lands so long ago....
we are now above everything else;
as a sermon waits for our presence below
hearing echoes and humming of creatures
so soft and discreet are the animals we love
the cretaceous periods at our door;
Now we must wait for one more
and waiting for us above in the midst of fog
is everything we wanted and more...
beneath all this we shall find ancient ruins
and some basic facts yet to be proven
you and I made it here once before
as we wait at the gate so calm and patient
At once we arrive together
feeling as light as a feather;
With both feet through heavens door;
As we walk in the light together;
dedicated to my family: Steve, Matt, Patti, Lisa, and Mom
Copyright © Christopher DeFinis | Year Posted 2015
There on the deck, I took a practice swing
tormented in the possiblity--
then hope was dashed--I found no hope to bring
up to the plate, when Ump cried out, "Strike 3!"
I was the last to bat--in this last game--
just oh for three, my record said it all!
And in the dugout, faces all the same,
the looks of gloom! Just waiting for my fall!
I took my place, right up there to the plate.
Out on the mound, the picher grinned at me--
as if he hoped to make my swinging late,
or throw me one--I couldn't even see!
He'd walked a batter, waiting on first base,
to tie the score, if we'd get in the race!
"No girl can hit!" I heard the catcher call,
and echoed from the bleachers was the same,
we made our stands, the umpire cried "Play ball!"
and then I vowed to get us in the game!
I gripped the bat, the windup came too fast!
As did the ball, but where it should have been!
"Strike one!" the umpire yelled at last--
The fastest ball that I have ever seen!
"She'll never swing!" the catchers words for me--
then threw the ball out to the pichers hand!
While out on first, my runner waits to see
if I can swing, or only make a stand!
Right in my face--the picher scouled a bit--
while I choked up--and readied for a hit!
All set to hit--I made it then my dream!
and came the ball--I could not swing at that!
"Strike twoooo!" the umpire made it scream,
then said to me, "You've got to swing the bat!"
The bat it weighed a hundred pounds or so;
"She'll never swing," the pichers eyes did say,
With that he gave his very best, I know!
I glued my eyes--as it screamed straight my way!
I never saw the hitting of the ball!
but won't forget the cracking sound of it!
Nor know again the feeling of it all
of this my very most important hit!
The sound it made--that ev'ryone could hear--
a batters dream--but pichers' greatest fear!
The ball soared hard and high past second base!
then seemed to drop so slowly from above,
as quick as I could get us in the race,
I watched it bounce right off the fielders glove!
The tying run was just ahead of me!
Ole "Never-Steal" now ran like not before!
And right behind, fast as my feet could be
I gave my best! And then I gave some more!
The crowd gave out the seasons wildest plea!
As I yelled to the runner just ahead,
with all the grit that I could find in me,
"I'm going in! And if you stop--you're dead!"
Ole "Never Steal" was giving all he could
and on his heels--I made my promise good!
We saw the ball come by as rounding third!
Not once a hesitation in it all--
and as the umpire watched without a word--
he swept his arms, to make the tying call!
The score was tied--third baseman set to throw--
now ready at home plate, the catcher stood--
and through it all--my only thought was GO!
but if I did--I'd have to make it good!
I knew the ball was thrown down to home plate!
The catcher poised, and glued where he should be!
I had to slide, and heard the ball hit late!
"She's SAFE! She's SAFE!" my Daddy yelled to me!
Now layed to rest--our coaches greatest fear--
the only game we won--throughout the year!
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2013