The weathered years passed with silent restraint
and left an impression that time stands still
I have counted sunsets without complaint
While life washed over me testing my will
I've crossed boundaries of unimportance
and found wisdom at the iron gates of age
I've laughed on the dark stage of circumstance
and know life's curtain falls on the last page
To play a fool in the turmoil life gave
and paint graffiti on its coldest walls
I've been my own master, been my own slave
I will open the aged gate when death calls
To allow my mind to cross many years
and find a mixture of beauty and tears
I remember the day I picked you,
With your sweet little puppy dog eyes.
For my heart was searching for love too,
When I looked down and heard your soft cries.
Your brothers and sisters were running,
They were after a fallen clothes peg,
But there was a puppy so stunning
Trying hard to get up on my leg.
Four years it has been since that moment
And I thank God daily for his gift
Each day you give me such enjoyment
Your love has given my heart a lift.
Today I know as clear as can be,
I didn’t pick you; rather you picked me.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Sponsor Shadow Hamilton
Above a cloud, in soundless, still tumescence,
a goddess rests; below her is the sea.
A strip of it is rippling luminescence,
a path of light in night’s serenity.
A solitary boat now passes through
the lane of radiance. One man regards
the sky and ocean, both a cobalt blue,
and ponders inspiration of the bards.
For what could man want more than such as this -
-the tranquilness of dark in Luna’s glow!
At times he longs to taste a woman’s kiss
though he embraced this life so long ago. . .
His gaze is fixed on her who shines above.
He chose the sea. . . and moon became his love.
the moon- old/new poemsPoetry Contest
Be not the passioned faith that fails to stay
When driven back and beaten to the ground,
Then compensated with a weed bouquet
Or self lamenting gift of thorny crown.
Be not the selfish soul that slips and falls
While treading down the mossy path you've laid,
Avoiding faithful friends when last they called
And fearful of the truth you now evade.
Arise and brush self pity from your brow.
You are the child of all that God hath sown,
And all the gifts with which you are endowed,
Bequeathed from each and all that you have known.
So stay, yet humbled, in this wind so strong,
Respectful of the fact you could be wrong.
Shakespearean Sonnet--Iambic Pentameter
By Craig Cornish
The void calls through gossamer veils and widow's peak.
Shifty-eyed now of necessity I lie, bone-wrapped
in rosaries black as my rheumy eyes, death speaks.
Uncomforted by down or velvet, role trapped
corseted, board stiff with age like calf skin vellum
peeled and bloodied by the dual edged knife of man.
The scene is set and I shall not whimper, as do some,
or call to God, or blame the fates of those whose clans
remain earth-bound, when I have left this mortal glade.
Pigment on canvass, linseed loosed, stretchers taut, displayed,
all of this, I've had a plenty, and been royally paid.
My life was art, and it was art that fanned my life's flame.
So, stretch me on the pine boards and lay my edges down;
monochrome me in umber, drench me in shades of brown.
Self Portrait See About the Poem
Winter cloaked in the whitest lace
Spreads its folds across the land
Transforming the earth's tired face
In beauty she makes her quiet stand
For those who weep for summer lost
And long for days of idle breath
Those days come at winter's cost
She sings the songs of living death
For naught we argue with the wind
And rail at ice that will not weep
Hoping these days will soon rescind
And her buried promises keep
Winter dances with solemn grace
Dressed in her white gown of lace
I savor my precious, quantum bliss;
the vibration of the strings, echo Heaven’s kiss.
In parallel worlds, are parallel lives;
With them, I can identify.
I’ve passed through, many walls of stone;
through countless lives, I have roamed.
I’ve tasted every experience,
I found, that some, I still lament.
A molecular epiphany, I have received.
My life’s frustration, is appeased.
Pure energy, is what we are
and we can visit, every star.
Quantum souls are limitless;
join me and pursue your bliss.
Behind a mask, there hides a jackal
Who plays the fool in this charade.
While long halls echo with the cackles
From this cesspool of a masquerade.
Join the dance of the promenade
As they sing to you their drunken verse.
You'll sleep beneath the colonnade
And dream of lines you should rehearse.
Trapped, we mingle in this curse
Like larks within a gilded cage.
This jackal's life of the perverse
Hides truth behind the covered stage.
Don't dream of the victims of our crimes
As we slumber in the theater of the sublime.
The candle burns down long into the night
Its life waning in a flickering flame
As I etch these ink stains of black on white
On pages that will never be the same
For I will fill this empty space with gold
Treasures - my soul now feels the need to share
Before the embers in this fire grow cold
I give to you these precious gems so rare
And when this candle dies and darkness falls
My pen will finally rest without regret
Left with the knowledge that I gave it all
My life in words until my dying breath
And in death I will live forevermore
For the pen is mightier than the sword
Written: April 15, 2011
Elaine Cecelia Geroge, of Canada
The Famous quotation 'The pen is mightier than the sword' was written by:
Edward Buliver-Lytton in 1839. Those words still live on today, proving that the pen truly is, mightier than the sword.
First place: Brian Strand's 14 line contest
First place: Razzle Dazzle Contest sponsored by Linda-Marie
Morning Dew Glistens in Anticipation
Glistening of gentle morning dew
soft breeze flowing sweetly along
Thoughts again of life and you
melodies that play a mental song
Trees wrapping this beautiful morn
joyful thoughts now so newly born
Sky filters down its sunlit rays
birds chirp all about on such days
My joy lost has now been found
as the natural world spins around
Life takes on a sheen of the new
Again my happy thoughts turn to you
Our lives joined, paths forever hold
this deep love that makes us both so bold!
Robert J. Lindley 09-24-2014
note: Took a Nature hike today. Saw God's beauty all around.
Very soon I found myself thinking ,yes, that my life came around
when my wife married me. As if a Spring shower had soothed the
parched ground. Giving nourishment for the seeds of bliss
to sprout on up and grow.
God, Nature's glow, my wife's love and beauty , our son's
smiles today made this world turn from bleak and cold to
sunshine and a slice Of heaven. Thank God for Nature's
beauty and its sweet inspirations.
My brother-in-law David was sent home to die tonight. They can do no more , the cancer will end his life, most likely in the next few days...
I couldn't go there tonight. The helpless feeling slays me so!
I hope to have the courage to go tomorrow morn...
It was very hard for me growing up
As had to raise my two months old cousin.
Me! An adult at the age of six, yup.
After three years, my aunt gave birth to twins.
Then, three years more and their sister was born
To get trained after getting a degree
In the populated house, was forlorn.
Thought for a job to have my own life’s spree.
Then, the uncle and aunt died suddenly
Leaving my four cousins under my care.
And my dream to have my own died wholly
Though my head said, “No, It’s not fair, not fair”.
But my heart won over my head duly
Now the four cousins are my life only
Based on a true story
December 8, 2014
Form: Sonnet: (Tetrameter)
Second Place Win
Counted on howmanysyllables.com (Total 140)
Here in the final pages of her life
She stops to rest a spell on empty lines
Reflecting on the chapters left behind
In valleys of a mind deep in contrite
Where shadows battle with a blinding light
Conflicting egos fighting on through time
Their argument life’s reason and life’s rhyme
They battle for the end that she must write
Two equal pens held tightly in her hand
Tears mingle with the ink spots on the page
One pen telling truth one pen telling lies
Her bleeding words like footprints in the sand
On lines between a novice and a sage
One pen she puts to death before she dies
Author: Elaine George
Written: April 20th, 2014
For Miltonic Sonnet Contest sponsored by: Craig Cornish
Awarded: First Place
Love lifted me into the clouds so high
I could not see the world beneath my feet.
We sailed away into a sunset sky.
I felt so sure my life was then complete!
We soared through galaxies, collecting dust
from shining stars that made our faces glow.
Life felt so sweet; the earth beneath us must
have been illusion. . . . but what did I know?
Reality, I learned, was not above
those fluffs of clouds, for passion dies so soon,
you’re pulled down to the ground. And what of love?
It’s just a glimmer up there on the moon.
Yet mortals can’t stop wishing for that flight
above the clouds into the star-filled night.
For the Both Sides Now Poetry Contest of Alfred Vassallo
Seeds of sorrow lay scattered along our path
so oft intertwined with Nature's wrath
Yet till the fields of dreams we simply must
for soon , so very soon we turn to dust
Green is the color of majestic newborn fields
as man enjoys fruits of earthen harvested yields
The sweat and pain given is the simple cost
thus we survive so ALL humanity is not lost
Life requires our own ground be rightly prepared
ignorance is the calamity so many are ensnared
We eat the dust long before we bake the bread
when we seek ease oft great sorrow we get instead
We plant our own seeds to dream to reap anew
yet we all pay, life is not free, tis so very true!
Robert Lindley, 10-01- 2014
note: Inspired by this morn's reading of Debbie Guzzi's
super fine poem , a great sonnet -- The Sowing
I give thanks for this inspiration and the joy in reading
both her sonnets this great morn. Certainly brought me
out of a slump and crazy haze these last few days..
Amazing how sometimes another poet can blow one away and change
another's entire attitude.
The Morning Sun Speaks
Vainly, I smile at a fine morning sun
ponder today's tasks waiting to be done
Embrace and savor this very sweet morn
enjoy life, that is why we were first born
Sparrow drinking at my lone bird fountain
clouds soaring into another mountain
I see the carefree bird fly far away
consider the high price I dearly pay
Happily my soul spoke to the red sun
life races onward as I freely run
My toils are but life tokens to be spent
spirit lives with our love paying no rent
The morning sun spoke yet again to me
live, love and grab hold of life yet to be!
Robert J. Lindley, 08-27-2014
Transparent smiles and fragile paper eyes
adorn a tender beauty, as a tear
of dew upon a rose in cool sunrise.
A sweet yet clear disguise of yearnings near,
secreted 'neath so tenuous a veil
that slight of breeze would surely discompose
and tear and crinkle. Milky shades of pale,
diaphanous, untrue (as truth’s cast shows),
serve only as a means of self deny,
a flimsy shield against a whispered voice
that sighs a threat to air life as a lie
and deliquesce remaining threads of choice...
except the choice to live, as such a breeze
undresses faintly covered dreams with ease.
Born without knowledge, seeking its course clear
Whether to search with the external eye,
or turn inward towards darkness, to hear
To find each minuscule need must comply
I'll question the soul, as though we are two
and seek answers from its soft voice within
To listen in silence for wisdom that's new
A guiding line, where my thoughts begin
To be in awe of life's visual scene
A universe illusions often thwart
A world unknown to all but me, between
I'll find serenity in my soul's comfort
To release my breath, free my soul that's bound
and listen to soft inner peace I've found
The dust from life clings to me as I move,
to free myself from the voices of sin
The travels I've made left nothing to prove
As I acknowledge the emptiness within
The flow of time passes by my shore
While I watch as my skin turns to gray
Speed of a lifetime leaves time to explore
No where is it written anyone will stay
I'll wave to the memories, a last goodby
And follow the sun to horizon's line
I'll seek no pity, any eye to cry
Give thanks for the wine, it was fine
'Till the moment comes I'm glad I'm aboard
I'll open my arms as I am moving toward
SCROLL OF LIFE
Although the light long ago faded from my youth
Clarity of my memories tell one; go home,
If only to find the innocence and the truth
From whence I travelled this world, like a gypsy roam.
When the scroll misconstrued paths collide in the night
Unprepared for the dawning the golden sunrise,
Horizon awakened one of emerald bright
Freeways of poetry and words woven without guise.
The misunderstanding of the unrolling scroll
Gave one measure to digest the loss; the delay,
In sands of time ribald an everlasting toll
The scroll we have a new understanding this day.
The gypsy has finally found himself a home
Through emerald eyes seeing his sunrise; not alone.
© Harry J Horsman & Mandy M Tams 2014
Those Glory Days, Long Gone
Those glory days resting so far bygone
I trek ahead, sad and so all alone
Treasures left upon lofty mountain tops
Rushing ever foward, no time for stops
Days, we resting under a shading oak
loving in vows that we forever spoke
Coolest mornings, breezing days easing minds
days of joy in all the many new finds
Those views of life sing forever above
crystal dreams set in our undying love
Nights of magic in epic love unbound
blisses in every kiss our wet lips found
Memories of days and nights now alone
holding memories of life so long gone!
Robert J. Lindley, 09-07-2014
Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Total # Words: 100
Did it , hit exactly one hundred words + ten syllables
per line and great rhyme.. A solid sonnet according to
my own personal standards. Wrote it and had to minor
correct only three lines..
The bells call forth from mighty tower keeps
To herald passing souls from here to there
The orange sun upon the hilltop creeps
It crucifies night's cold and blind despair
And light of day itself may also bluff
The flower blooms and will too soon dissolve
There is no virtue virtuous enough
To ban the steady tide of death's resolve
If permanence is just a fleeting dream,
Why burden every man and child fair?
To ask is chasing shadows down a stream
Fall not into the well of when or where
These words are written clear for all to see:
What I am now you too shall one day be
Birthing Loving Merciful Trees
Seeking any mercy, found greater peace
every step gifted so very much more
Quest gave my lonely life another lease
ever a pleasure never a sad chore
Every dawn brought another super gift
happy nights, flying in with joyous ease
Birds in flight forever , ever so swift
love springing up, as pretty as you please
Giving thanks for serenity and all
journey concluded, racing quest sent back
Joy answered each and every crying call
acceptance for all that this life did lack
Peace then birthed those loving merciful trees
Joyous fruits answering desperate pleas
Robert J. Lindley (edited 04-05-2015)
Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
Total # Words: 95
Note: A quest I finished long ago.
A poem of the now, looking back at the then.
Love heals all, even a broken hearted man..
This write was inspired by my reading just today ,
Peter Duggan's great poem titled -- Sincerely...
Thank you my friend, you give so much....
(The Relativity of Beyond)
Bacteria, too small for human eyes
Engage their fight for life within our midst,
So unaware of Earth's gigantic spies
With microscopes and slides, who co-exist.
And tiny fish contained by walls of glass,
Oblivious to all that thrives outside,
In world of colored sand and plastic grass
Know not of ocean's roar or rhythmic tide.
And we, the wisest brothers of life's sea,
Who travel well the wonders of our home,
Are blinded by the endless mystery
Of space and time--horizons we can't roam.
What great dimension of the vast beyond
Makes Earth a microscopic vagabond?
© Sandra M. Haight 2015
All Rights Reserved
Contest: A Penney For Your Thoughts
Sponsor: Sara Kendrick
“If life is going to exist in a Universe of this size,
then the one thing it cannot afford to have is
a sense of proportion.”
Douglas Adams, Author: 1952-2001
A wash of gold adorns the westward sky
as waning light departs a summer’s eve;
in readiness to roost, crows cease to fly
and seek their resting place among the leaves.
Past toasted rooftops, twilight bids the sun
must softly slip away to realms afar,
with liquid grace, sun-kisses fall undone
and drench the dusk in honey-toned memoir.
Time lengthened shadows whisper to the moon,
enticing her to wear her slender smile.
With reticence, she answers to their tune,
enriching night’s black canvass for a while…
still wearing notes of summer-sweet bouquet,
recalled from painted echoes of the day.
Life offers wisdom in its time
Some lessons only learned through pain
Like falling when you try to climb
Or getting burned on fire's flame
Some lessons only learned by living
Sadly learned through life’s regrets
Though every dawn’s a new beginning
Lessons learned, we won’t forget
Sometimes life brings such frustration
Should we fight against the pain?
Out of pain springs revelation
Suffering, we’ve much to gain
When faced with trials, we have a choice:
Let pain consume us, or rejoice
As daylight dims against a crimson sky
And evening star dust lightly dots the blue
And yesterday into tomorrow flies -
Like life, the twilight fades in different hues.
So bright the early days, then quickly gone
Like ships in freshened wind we gladly sailed
And through the midst of life forgot the dawn
As innocence of dreams became unveiled.
Each day the pages turn till end of time,
A story told and written as we pass,
So all that we have touched becomes entwined
And carried on beyond the very last.
We carry all we love along the way
Into the gloaming at the end of day.
Shadows Past, Dance with memories of Yore
Shadows Past, Singing LOVE Songs for LENORE
Shadows Past, Crying Tears of agony
Shadows Past, Waiting for Eternity
Join together FOREVER and ALWAYS
Entwine with Lost Love in Heaven's Hallways
Ignite Love's Fire with a dying Ember
Shadows Past, Forgotten LOVE: Remember
I live in Death, waiting for death " To LIVE "
A Broken Heart prepares itself to Give -
To YOU, LENORE: "My Everlasting LOVE"
A LOVE as Pure as GOD's Heavenly Dove
For Eons of Eternity as One
Spirit of GOD, Lenore and I : as ONE
Dedicated to Rebecca Larkin For Her Gracious Comment on "Shadows Past" (Rhyme)
I wait while wandering in empty dreams,
where everyone is lost and dying slow.
And in the distance are, unheard, the screams
of anguished souls I’ll never come to know.
The winds blow hot or cold here, rarely cool.
Leaves flutter out of sight, disintegrate.
Relief, if ever found, is minuscule.
I do not even know for what I wait!
I’m drifting with the leaves as they change hue,
concealed among them as they fall to ground.
And as they crumble, I’ll be crumbling too,
alone (as souls unknown hear not my sound).
And still I roam inside this wait I keep,
unwilling to awaken from this sleep.
The suburbs sleep while the sleepless do not.
Down on Main Street, the ones the light forgot.
Six blocks of shops staying open all night,
Drunks are disorderly, poets are in plight.
The freaks, the phonies, the high school girls sway,
Guitarist strum while drummers drum away.
Joints are passed while perfuming the huddle.
Freshly found friendships create a cozy cuddle.
Intoxicated romance in proud stride.
From the cops underage teenagers hide.
The goths, the groupies, the bikers, the band,
Eclectic mix in this cities island.
Under the streetlights, just one of the crowd,
Under the streetlights, a freak that walks proud.
For contest: Find The Puzzle
Date: October 1, 2014
Name: Casarah Nance
BLOSSOMS and BUBBLES
From aggregate supple stellar petals' smile,
spring fragrance bubble spiral free in the air,
their porcelain blossoms dash perfection flair;
suitors bee, beguile the flower by buzzing style,
the blooms' fingers rush to blushes beyond compare.
Bard wind began to sing to serenade the buds in grins
rosy petals breathe a gentle sigh, one long mile...
Afar, some girls and boys see these Belles so rare--
they blow their dreams to root in land fertile.
They hope like blossoms their dreams curve in peak
though trials, struggles may round and round peep
for soon as seasons rouse may their journey begin
To the times their life drifts, avoiding not to weep
These blossoms and bubbles psalm, wisdom speak
J.A. Fraser and O.E. Guillermo
9:37 pm, March 03, 2015