Poem | |
December 25th- The Christmas Wedding
Surrounded by seasonal silver bells
Scarlet passionate pink poinsettias sit
Entwined by Christmas and Wedding bliss
Frosty winter weather warmed up by:
Rings of “I Do”
The eyes of Eve hide underneath a white veil
A bride walking down the misty mistletoe isle
Wondering why the majestic mustang moon sank without trace?
The aroma of pine trees idle into the death defying fog
Fine firm decorated ribbons snug unopened gifts
Mistletoes wait above the tenable tint threshold
Kissing and Cheering
New Christmas Vows
In her hands, a beautiful bouquet
-Bridal flowers for the maids
Forsaken by dark dusky dullness wedding cloud
Flustering fragrance thicken the chestnut cold air
Ornaments endured dreary tears
Despising the drapes of fog
That covers the newly wed winter show
Harmony withdrew from that winter wonderland
A white gown, not meant to be
Christmas crushed by her greed
The unkind erratic earth exchanged her own silent vows
In a horrifying hoary haze
A heavy foggy breeze dropped in like debris,
Blowing her tiara dreams away
On this very exact Christmas Day
Poem | |
~the Fear of Never~ A DRINK TO REMEMBER!
And the fire catches every time, my heart needs a sip
I bear no shame pouring, poisoned pabulum whisky down
Lost in a place with hungry whores, ink paying gigolos
This night a respected gentleman put's on his evening gown
He sits in front of a mic playing the same old sad song
Fitted out in drag, his wife has no clue
Holy breeders trying to change my shoes
Lingering from the Cute Chinaman, running his tab sky high
Bluebirds of jealousy, set round the vintage Barstool like fools
Minds overpowered and threaten to the very nub
I am drunk-- in his eye,
He receives a macabre confession of possessiveness
I am drunk-- in her eye,
She has a sick confession of subconsciousness
Broken loose from a negative, regressive state of mind
Sit and enjoy this broken bottle of champagne
Unspoken rage in every empty can left behind
A shot glass drops from my unstable hands longing to hold a pen
I look into a mirror and embrace every meaning of stability
Blotting out the madness behind a metal cage of reality
At times, I feel the need to bring down this masquerade
A drink so hostile, I can't even remember my image and name
Too many scars, from the foster of paper and pen
My dependents are drunken demons from a traumatized childhood
Tonight I will legislate a special thanks
Holding up my cup, until death finds my note
I will smile, at every Judge and Jury, during karaoke night
Shutting down my eyes, fantasizing everything's gonna be alright
I will not jilt knowing, writers block haunted my days away
Insecure hoarding monsters enjoying spoil forgotten words
Tonight I thirst like never before, my tongue inscribes around a tin cup
I am not eating up by it, no matter how long I've drowned in it
This is my kind of whisky, my thoughts, my days of ammo
To tell you the truth, I possess no desire to drink
It's all about the love of poetry and how sober, I become (WITHOUT)
The monsters that reside inside, have one thing to say
"Give me Poetry, or give me Death!"
Poem | |
Long before Horus' exposure on its trunk
and the nailing of Jesus upon its grain,
rings have been added within the Tree
while people proclaim to hold the key
of salvation, a continually borrowed mythology
swallowed; a powerful sleeping pill
pulling the masses into slumber,
away from the obvious truth
that such supposed salvation
is a ticket far too easy to obtain,
a discriminatory damnation of souls
so blindingly righteous,
even the most vengeful, maniacal deity
would draw the line there.
So many people hand-out the easy tickets,
cut and light the tree --
a hypodermic injection of selfish memories
mixed into mortar for temples designated as sacred,
but the elements are desecrated by swirling sewers,
by shears amputating roots from the sky.
Too many people preach, judicate, proclamate,
hold signs pointing towards a cheap, polystyrene heaven,
while only a few walk the narrow path,
live the sacrifice because it feels right.
Again and again,
the ticket isn't so easy,
we must put aside our slumber-crutches,
stop watching the few carry the rest
upon their backs until bones creak and groan
from the weight of people waiting for salvation
to be handed to them.
27 years, a branch in the road, 46664 etched into its bark.
The forked doors opened,
a living, breathing gospel
brought down fences,
and even then the wood was made into crutches
for people to say,
"M will fix it, M will do this, M will do that,
M will save us, just wait and see."
But M is finally free, yes, he is free!
Free, but not lost to us,
always surviving as spirit-seeds.
We must no longer lean upon crutches,
instead purge the pill from our blood
and awaken into gardeners who water the seeds
within the soil of our souls,
before the vision withers completely,
and we remain only as husks
waiting to be hydrated by watering cans
held in hands too weak to lift the weight....
held in our own hands all along,
held in our hands all along.
*Inspired by Madiba Mandela
December 7th/8th, 2013
Poem | |
My heart skips a beat my love each and every time
I’m with you my dearest sweet and lovely Darling
Since the passions and feelings you stir in me
Touch the very depth of my inner being and soul
And render themselves not to mere words only
Suitable for depiction, exhibition, understanding
Rather to the image and strength of your beauty
And your rapturous desire and feeling as they
Defy rational attempts at any simple description
For you are the most radiant beyond all compare
My heart skips a beat my love when we lie together
Locked in a most enchanting embrace and kissing
So deeply, palpably that we run out of breath and pant
Anxiously at what comes next in our mutual longing
And crescendo as our passions explode and express
Themselves in a most hungry trail of urges and desires
Which makes finding love for us all the more magical
Pairing us together like a couple of star-struck kids
Lost impossibly in moments of hope and imagination
In a timeless world of love, desire, emotion, and oneness
My heart skips a beat my love when we walk so closely
Hand-in-hand talking, laughing, and living our dreams
Confronting the world and taking on whatever comes
Next as we steer our ship of destiny on a true course
Where our like-thoughts and deep love for each other
Mean something quite special that only Dreamers and
Poets can imagine and set to melody and harmony in perfect
Verses of sheer passion and delight painted onto a canvas
Of unending happiness where Heaven and Earth are one
My heart skips a beat my love when we’re forever one
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(November 5, 2014) (Free Verse)
Poem | |
-Poetry Soup Kitchen-
Grab your aprons and spoon
Today we will not think of the stars and the moon,
Open your eyes, be grateful for all we have
Together we can paint the world
In any which way we desire
Let's give, live and celebrate the New Year
Poetry Soup Style
Happy New Year
Poem | |
Away up north where it’s snowing they say
the elves are preparing for Christmas day.
Big elves little elves, busier than bees
All building toys, for under Christmas trees.
Some work with hammers others building bikes,
some riding through the room on brand new trikes.
Tiny elf voices ringing loud and clear,
everyone’s full of love and Christmas cheer.
Suddenly the chatter stops; all are still,
Santa walked in the room with book and quill.
Looking down at his book, Santa Clause stared,
then lifted his eyebrows as he declared,
Today I looked inside my books
and I found that we are ahead,
and thought because you worked so hard
we shall all go outside instead.
Misses Claus made lots of sweet treats
so let’s all eat and be hearty,
for today here at the North Pole
all elves shall have a snow party.
Quick as a wink the elves they disappeared,
Santa just smiled as he tugged at his beard.
Laughing he watched his little friends scatter
and soon the mountains echoed with laughter.
Snowballs were flying, snowmen taking form,
and hot chocolate kept little elves warm.
They were sledding, skiing, skating all day,
see, elves aren’t simply, all work and no play.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Contest: Children’s Christmas or Holiday Tale
Poem | |
As I walked into the banquet hall of the
Goodman’s Inn, the first thing that stood
out to me were the eyes of the people. I
felt as though I could actually see hope. Eyes
seemed to sparkle and everyone in the hall
sat talking to the others sitting around them
as they waited for the main course of the evening.
To understand this report we need to go back just
over a year ago when Lindsey Long won the 50
million dollar lottery. Apparently the multimillionaire
booked the Goodman’s Inn for December 24th through
to January 2nd of this year solely to house the homeless
over the Christmas holidays. Miss Long walked through
the streets herself over the last week inviting the
unfortunate homeless to come to the motel for these
festivities. Lindsey Long has not only provided the rooms
for this week, she also has clothed them with new
wardrobes and warm winter clothing and accessories.
Now as the people sat around the table they were
told Miss Long had an announcement. We all waited
to hear what this amazing lady had to say
and excitement filled the room. When this
beautiful young woman began to talk there
wasn’t one dry eye in the building. She told them
how she was not going to just send them back
on the street next week but how she had
built a new centre that would have sleeping
facilities and showers to accommodate all
of them. This new facility will be serving
three meals a day which will be prepared solely
from themselves on a voluntary bases.
The feeling in the Inn that night was pure joy
and as the people realized the impact of this
wonderful news, they all broke out singing
It Came Upon a Midnight Clear. This is
Rhonda Reeds reporting for
The Good Newspaper.
Merry Christmas everyone.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Sponsor Mystic Rose
The Good Newspaper
Poem | |
-"x+2 = 4"-
Enigmas of the soul
Do you know how it feels?
Never tasted before
Poem | |
weaved with strands of light
Contrasted with threads of black
A marvelous mosaic
of a wondrous soul
I drape you over me
Feel your warmth
I hear the tune of you
Singing your happy songs
Yet if I listen
just a little closer
I am drenched with your tears
The alternate other you
I open you up
Lay you on the ground
Marvel at the intricacies of you
All the subtleties
The bold designs
Shapes I could never imagine
You are magnificent
Harmony within each part
I resist the urge
To fold you up
Place you on a shelf
Keep you all to my self
A treasure just for my eyes to see
I look around
It's not up to me
You are connected to all
Other tapestries and endless sea
carried away by them you us and me
So I marvel and just let you be
Poem | |
Dreaming quite deeply one dark night
I saw your image and most beautiful face
Passionately kissing my soul and spirit
Charming my innermost desires and wishes
Beguiling my inner child making him smile
Soothing my feelings capturing my emotions
Mesmerizing me with unconditional love
This dream stayed with me on many lonely
Nights for at least over a year or so while
Leaving me to awaken feeling very happy
But also so very sad only seeing YOU . . .
As a dream and a part of my unconscious self
Yet I longed and longed so deeply to see
And to meet and to love the real YOU . . .
And then one day about two years removed
From my recurring dreams of YOU . . .
I was walking along a beautiful ocean beach
And watching the waves break and come ashore
Feeling the warm summer wind touching me
Quite soothingly and enticing me most deliciously
When I walked literally and directly into YOU!
Upon on this event, we both stopped in our tracks
At first surprised, then stunned, and not talking
Then our mutual surprise and astonishment
Quickly gave way to warm smiles and laughter
And then YOU said to me: “Where have you been?”
Your question said it all to me—my heart melted
And I said: “I’ve always been with you my darling!”
Call it Fate . . . Call it Destiny . . . Call it Karma
Both us had been dream beings to one another
And now we’re standing in front of each other
Very real, very alive, and very much in love
Personifying at once giddy star-struck lovers
Whose very spirits and souls are united as ONE . . .
We embraced passionately and kissed longingly
As we embraced—it was as though time stood still . . .
Our mutual dream worlds connected in this real world
And the effect of this moment finding each other finally
Was both quite overwhelming and intoxicating for us
As our mutual fondness, desire, love—all there
As we kissed and caressed so deeply with desire
Our joyous eye contact and tears confirmed all
We sat for hours on the beach entranced in our
Own world of rapture, devotion, presence and passion
While talking, caressing, kissing, smiling and laughing
And learning so much of each other so fast so deeply
And Never Ever wanting to leave each other’s side now
Our souls crossed a millennium or more to find one another
And to unite our human spirits as one on this cosmic Earth plane
I never expected to meet my love, my soul mate—YOU!
In such an improbable fashion, yet crossing deep space and time
We found our souls bonded in love and blended into one
Our real lives together now filled with unbridled passion
And our goals, desires, emotions all cascading together as one
And now at night as we lie together sleeping and dreaming
Our lives, our souls, and our love all real—since I found YOU!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen,
Germany (October 28, 2014) (Free Verse poetic format)
Poem | |
A Debutante’s Ball to Remember
In the autumn of my life, oft have I recalled that superb summer night,
When I finally experienced my long-awaited heart’s delight.
Family and close friends were all ready for my entry into society,
To celebrate it with a grand debutante’s ball filled with gaiety.
In a dreamlike state, I felt like a princess with a golden crown,
Making my grand entrance wearing a champagne chiffon gown.
With matching gloves, and a pair of satin shoes on my tiny feet,
My auburn hair was adorned with butterflies and posies sweet.
The ballroom was magically transformed with gas lights all aglow,
And a glittering chandelier reflected on a highly polished mahogany floor.
As the orchestra played, my body and soul were enraptured and consumed
By its rendition of Ravel’s enthralling “La Valse” which pervaded the room.
Elegant ladies were all dressed to the nines in exquisite pastel gowns
Of winter white, baby blue, powder pink, pale peach and beautiful browns.
In tacit competition to out-best each other, social charms were well-honed,
As they daintily fanned themselves and gossiped animatedly in hushed tones.
Refined gentlemen in their finely-tailored tails navigated the room to mingle,
Keeping an eye out for eligible heiresses beautiful, graceful, and single.
Wafts of mild masculine colognes came from discretely dabbed faces and hair;
While the fresh feminine floral scent of French perfumes permeated the air.
Armed with a full dance card, I waltzed the night away with ardent admirers,
Curtsying and coquettishly smiling, moving on to more exciting suitors.
My enchanting evening climaxed with Strauss’s “Vienna Waltz” filling the hall.
Oh, what a tale I will have to tell as my granddaughter prepares for her first ball!
Poem | |
I hear the October winds whispering and I think it knows,
as the witching hour arrives and a harvest moon glows,
only once a year, do we celebrate death on Halloween night,
it is a time for remembrance, and not a time for fright.
As dead leaves come to life, once more, somehow they know,
on the twisted claw-like branches, I see the excitement grow,
black bats take their flight and wise owls call out to you,
it seems strange, but I imagine that they all know, too.
I ask you now, my dearly departed ancestors, to arise,
come and dance with me, there is no need for disguise,
on this one dark, Halloween night, it is the only time,
when we can feel truly alive and so morbidly sublime.
Let me wipe away the ancient moss from your tombstone,
come forth with dust and decay, your shroud and bone,
feel the warm glow from this carved out jack o' lantern,
and watch his lit, grinning soul, may it flicker and burn.
You must still remember the candy corn's sweet flavor,
and those crisp apples, with juicy bite after bite to savor,
it is only on this night when we can taste this rare treat,
and it is only on this Halloween night when we can meet.
Tonight will not be your usual haunting among the graves,
or beneath the dead willow tree, weeping, shackled like slaves,
you are free to wander, to celebrate, and honor our past,
until the morning sun rises, on this Eve that will not last.
So come with me now and our spirits will live once more,
as we roam down our old streets, and visit door to door,
let us go, and lead them all in our mysterious nighttime parade,
where we can finally be ourselves, no need for a masquerade.
Poem | |
Lost in a poets convention,
I can't recall every poem, I've read through the years
50518, unique comments I 'validate'---
Thank You For Sharing Your Happy and Sad tears
Since March 24, 2010 In the mist of every line,
I'm sending special hugs, for he/she that favorite me through the years
A praise to all poets mentioned and not mentioned
I will miss, the sweetest girl on this block LEONORA G.,
She treats me with love, adores my words and twisted poetry.
I will start with the soups famous October, 7th babies,
Frank and Kash, Debbie D, and myself, these lines belong to us,
Our best characteristic has everything to do with the mind
In our poetic hearts you'll find the symbol of justice and balance
This is not a song, it is not a poem, it's a free falling memo written with style
Back in March 2013, I said it then, I'll say it again
Andrea, you and only you are the Poet Queen
By the Queen, sits the Poet King of rhymes, Robert L. Hinshaw
Thank you both for never stepping on your loyal subjects
Carol B., & Linda Marie, no one can replace the hole you left inside
I will miss all the little poetry pups, who came and sat by my side
MAHIMA and Saanvi, and Sabrina, thank you for the encouragement
Phyllis, Joyce, Francine, Rhonda, Betty, sweet Karen A., and Catie,
Clap your hands for the lovely quiet soup ladies.
Okay, maybe not Karen A., and Catie, these ladies love speaking their minds:)
SARA K., a mentor to some, a Fairy Godmother in my book
I will miss her "Magic Pen like Wand" dearly.
Gail, thank you for spreading your wings, and teaching us how to fly.
Hopefully --wings are a nice gesture, --waving--
"One day I'll see you again, my friend."
Daver Austin, "Go ahead, make my day" thank you for the show
Now, you know why I referred to you as, "The Clint Eastwood of Poetry."
Russell Survey, encouraged my days and moods with his kind words
Scribe ML., where are you my friend?
Don't you know your BIGGEST FAN misses you!!!
Dr Ram, Bindu V, Litan D., Donna J, Shadow, Sandra A., Peter Durgan,
Giorgio V., Mystic Rose, BL Devnath and of course our Nette.
Thank you for being kind and rewinding and replying to every note.
Joseph M., Caleb S., Vincent F., Juliet L., Lucy Carrillo, Scott 37, Johnny R.,
Kelly D., thank you for the honor in always honoring my words
Roger Horsch meets Eileen Ghali, your smile, her smile always made me smile,
No matter how many miles apart, our smiles always met on the same page.
Jenish, Don J., S.Z. Kamoonpuri, Gideon, Gary, Austin E., and Jody M.,
Fatima N., Mark N., Aiyah B., Ralph F., Kathryn C., Elly, Ayesha A.,
Clay W., Erich, Syam, MIKKI, John B., Olusegun, *Sukmawati* Gwen,
Delysia H., Frederic P., Richard L., Brenda L., Keith, Debbie G.,
Thank you for painting the best IMAGERY
Michale Clarke, Charma C., Wayland B., Jancarl C., Carrie, and Harry,
M&M, Abdulhafeez, Michael B., Maria P. S., CHAN and Mandy T.
You are only the beginning of what makes this a good community
Arlid A., Dinda M., Silly Billy, Tim Ryerson, we go way back.
Ravindra, Kim M., Richard S., Honestly JT., Wade A., Dom-X.
The ingredients in your poems, makes the best soup remix
Joe M., Jack H., James H., James P., Tim B., Jon A. C., Allan K., Matthew A.
Deb Wilson, David S., David William, Thomas S., Cecilia M.
Keep that pen flowing for tomorrow needs poets like you.
Justin B., Laura B., your words will continue to be a part of me.
Owen Y., and John L., your visits, your friendship I will never forget
Yasmin and Carl F., hanging out with you on the soup was the best.
Cherl Dunn, and Colleen Bono, SandyIvy, I will miss everything about you,
Mostly I will miss your friendship and the way you took care of me.
Poet and sister Skat, keep rocking what I can't....
Copy paste your love, welcome in the new.
Show Edwina, Robin, Sam B., and all the NEW POETS they belong
Last but not least-- Behind every mess, they are the best
--Craig Cornish and Cyndi McMillan
What have you done, I admit without you this place would have been no fun.
Thank you for the spin, making every penny worth our paid premium memberships
Before I forget,
I want to take this time to reminisce and add two old friends to my hot list.
Nikko and Chris A..... My first POETRY SOUP FRIENDS.
I will never forget you, and all the fun moments we had,
Back when the soup was not like this:)
Chris, can you ever forgive me, I never stepped up to say "I was Sorry!"
As you know my kindness is my weakness
Now it's time to be strong and move on
If one day I return, then you know, I fell off the wagon
And, into arms and luring fingers of Team Poetry Soup
The Poet Destroyer
Poem | |
* DARKNESS of the LIGHT *
Those that fear the dark,
Have never seen what the light can do.
In this grave I will leave no mark.
Knowing the tunnel light, is the way God scr3ws with you.
I have no soul to sell,
Someone jacked my free ticket to hell.
I lived all my life on the verge of a broken dream.
My will locked behind this iron cell.
Only he can hear me scream!
My own prisoner in this bottle shell.
To fear the dark is the devil's scheme.
Watch me as I remove my own shackles from my limbs.
Towards the light I will never redeem.
A full flavor laugh,
For he that fears the darkness, and walks the light alone.
Poem | |
Mardi Gras "The Medieval Story"
On a hot, heavy night in Orleans,
Joan and Jane were seen rubbing chest on chest
An inviting, intimate moment, to undress
Two pretty trimmed tops, eating like dames
They touched in ways, that drove those who make war insane
The secret spilled, before the sun sprawled across the floor
Medieval England, banging on iron set doors,
All around men and women, wanting to witness the whiplash
Beads and beads of love, thrown at their feet
Joan' and Jane', having fun in front of, yesterdays courtyard
Sweet acts of flagellation were performed to stimulate the crowd
Screaming, and receiving, intense, brutal lacerations
In the eyes of endless nudity, everything wet in between
Left to right, a secluded society, dance in masquerade
Two men rise and ravage Jane, from hip to hip
Join-in, was a Jouster, and Lord Johnsburgh,
They came-in a little closer to claim, Joan
Closing, and inflicting as much damage as possible
Crestfallen forces of the unknown, -the audience grows
Remain firm and indulge this wet period of the Middle Ages,
The first crusade, held stones in each hand,
Applauding to neck the beauty of friends
A noose hanging high, held no head on this day
Yelling to feel the pain perils of anguish,
This was in reality the vassal of Jane
The King, ask to see them on their knees
Before he seeded, sending the Spanish tickler,
Fetching for the finest skin
At her end, Joan, watched Jane, spread like never before
Perfumed skin, rising up in smoke, -Joan's final stroke
Left burning at the Stake, In a Medieval World, from hell
The Siege of Joan and Jane, did not end well
A lonely Bard, now sits and sings a sadistic tale,
A tale, of dirty deeds, -a dancing bloody masquerade
Joan and Jane, compensating for the Mardi Gras Parade
Poem | |
Late to the party we arrived at seven
At least we showed up before eleven
Sweet Ginette, joined us both at the door
A bottle in my hand ready to pour
Off to the kitchen to see the Birthday Queen
All the happy faces a beautiful scene
Hugs for Chantale, another for Helene
I met a new person, energetic like a teen
Her name if I remember, it is Jocelynne
She is married, to a cool guy his name Martin
Bruno was cooking but stopped to say hi
Christine looked happy to be with her guy
Jokes and conversation, a whole lot of fun
Happy to spend time with everyone
Dave seemed content enjoying the mood
My stomach grumbled, I was ready for food
To the table it was time to sit down
We were all treated, to the best meal in town
First Chantale prayed a blessing on us
Our Savior is great, he deserves a fuss
The meal fantastic but the Tuna was raw
I tried to eat it but it stuck in my craw
My Mary she enjoyed it, although not me
I prefer all things cooked, that come from the sea
The pasta amazing, seafood galore
The wine was superb, I let Christine pour
She sat to my left, Dave sat to my right
Everyone there, made it a perfect night
Once concluded, Christine C sang a song
A Louis Armstrong tune we all joined along
Her voice was clearest ours more like a croak
We were lost in the moment, that's not a joke.
We all started dancing, disco moves on the floor
Armand turned up the sound, as we screamed for more
First time I saw Dave dance, he cuts quite the rug
Armand has his own moves, he likes the Jittery Bug
Before too long it was time for dessert
Hot from all the candles I unbuttoned my shirt
Chantal blew out the candles after making two wishes
Armand served Mary's cake, on rectangular dishes
Chantale's special day, a day to remember
Celebrated each year, October not November
So we raised our glasses, thankful for the cheer
Together we celebrated a friend who is dear!
Poem | |
I am the painter of Happy
Traveling along life's dark streets
Listening for the beat
Feeling hidden colors with my feet
I see the beauty
beyond the dark
Floating within, this concrete park
Leaving my mark
Playing tag with a can of paint
My art is vibrant
I won't settle for faint
What you see as ugly
it truly aint
I'm not afraid of dingy places
I let color flow outside the lines
My choices are a different kind
Injecting a symphony between life's spaces
Color removing tear drop traces
Grey shades this paint erases
I see possibilities in others faces
Or with a brush
I make the concrete blush
beauty awakened with my touch
I love the power of yellow
If you are down
Or feeling mellow
I just might be the right kinda fellow
My flavors are sweet like jello
Within these hands
I wield a rainbow
My tools, stardust and ultra glow
From my bowl
I pour happy on your soul
Until your own light begins to show
Watch me move quick
When others are slow
With a platinum bow
Let me paint you
A different kinda blue
Bright skied technicolor
The perfect one for you
A bubblegum happy kinda chew
Grab life and dance
Do what you want to do
Don't settle for so few
I can paint you
A penny for your thoughts
Help you realize just what you've got
Be the dreamer
It will help a lot
A life that's red hot
There is more to be got
Let others choose boring
What I offer
can't be store bought
I'll hand you a brush
We can cover more ground
Big footed clowns
Spreading happy around
That joyful sound
Me and you
Our happy can astound!
What was lost
Its been refound
Time to open these eyes
Inspired by our resident Happy Jack Ellison!
Poem | |
Tear drops trickle down your cheeks
I know how hard you've tried
Put your heart and soul on paper
Only to be denied
If only someone really knew
If somehow they could understand
These works I write are my last dream
My hopes of a promised land
You long to be a special girl
Not just a number in the crowd
With skill you paint a masterpiece
The canvas makes you proud
Your words are filled with royalty
They're lofty and incredibly deep
And for the casual passerby
The climb is perhaps too steep
If only someone really knew
If somehow they could understand
These works I write are my last dream
My hopes of a promised land
But what if one already knew
Only one, but they understood
And this one believed in your dream
They longed for all you could
Would just that one be enough
To renew hope of a promise land
I tell you girl here and now
There is one.. And I'm that man!
Poem | |
Smiles got bigger
laughing out loud
hearing her singing
karaoke night out.
No whiskey was needed
living life's highs
seizing the moment
not letting life by.
We howled at the moon
painted that town red
danced one more dance
put our troubles to bed.
Last night of the year
we said our goodbyes
we ring in the new year
with one last wild ride.
Poem | |
spring walked the red carpet dressed in a suit
of blossoming colors that released a delicate inviting fragrance.
summer followed in a scorching hot vibrant green piece
accentuated in bright yellow gold.
autumn showed up in antique shades of reds and orange.
a striking shawl dropped beneath her shoulders.
winter was the last to arrive and appeared in a pure white evening gown.
each and every sequence unique and separately sewn in.
as each season complimented the red carpet
all life showed up to marvel.
Sponsor: Rick Parise
Contest Name: Any Poem 12- line MAX
Poem | |
Find In Our Eternity, Sweet Love
Find in my Heart,
cast away misdeeds never to be embraced
Find in my heart,
a love of you that can never be erased
Find in this Soul,
a friend so gladly embracing all of you
Find in this soul,
true lover that forever loves all you do
Find in my Dreams,
golden paradise I built for your pleasure
Find in my dreams,
a deep love, gentle and without measure
Find in my Desires,
gentle touch, a touch of your pretty face
Find in my desires,
nights seeing you dressed up in black lace
Find in my Life,
a sworn oath to your deep love be true
Find in my life,
to each bright morn, our deep love renew
Find in our Eternity,
a golden palace made just for you and I
Find in our eternity,
united love, as great as a Heavenly sky
Robert J. Lindley, 02-03-2015
note: I failed to write my darling wife her daily poem yesterday(first time in ten years).
So she being playful demanded I write a double good one this fine morning.
I hope this effort will do. If not, then I am lost as this came directly from
my loving heart to her, my sweetest sunshine, my darling wife.
Poem | |
If I was a bullet I would travel real fast
Take showers in the past
Use gun powder to keep me dry
Shop at Target
And avoid people at all cost
If I was a bullet I would buy a gun
A small one, for company
Challenge Superman to a race
Or simply let him leap tall buildings, if he were so inclined
As I leap to my own conclusions by his side
If I was a bullet I would go to Mexico
Drink tequila real slow to get inebriated
Finish off bottles of 90 proof vodka to prove a point
That I can become bullet proof in any old joint
9/01/14 The Poet - Poetry contest
Poem | |
Poet Destroyer - Parades and Carnivals
Soft feathers gather up with color
On the wind to play as friends
They come floating first above the boulevard
Kind thoughts there elevate, somewhere between the innocence
Trumpets, drums and violins come thumping on the street
Poet Destroyer is there to keep the peace
Hiding in disguise as Linda
She jumps up one thousand feet and lands
Right in the heart of Poetry Soup with marching bands
Flutes come alive while she eats fire
Catching knives between her teeth, and bullets just for fun
While petting hungry tigers, yawning all the while
Parades fill in the rest of life with yellows reds and peach designs
When PD comes marching down the streets all smiles
She wakes up, takes on greater feats
Casting royal colors in purples, gold and lavenders
Announcing the start of carnival
Trusted, serene, sweet dreams and memories
She speaks of dragons flying by her side in times gone by
But today, arise!... carnivals, parades, and dancing happy feet
Bad memories sink out of sight
Diabolical forces, hard matters, enemies of play
Will have to gravitate their weight some other day
No draconian measures or moments here
PD has come to host parades and gaiety
Delicious love and fun gather up the sun
You can certainly feel the warmth
Rising lighter than the feathers to tickle everyone
Linda jumps again and does it just for fun
Created on 12/04/14 for - Fighting Depression (poems for PD) - Poetry Contest
Poem | |
by Lori Maria Walton
Come walk with me among the daisies
Not with the roses, as they have thorns
But among the lucid pulchritude
Waiting with open eyes to the sky
For whom she lives
Today, walk with me among the daisies
Elevate your eyes to the indigo azure
And ascertain love’s authentic disposition
Contemplate the sheltering expanse dancing above
Admiring the daisy field
Walk with me among the daisies for a moment
Knowing they fade into the winter
Receding into the cold earthy mirth
Waiting for the sun to coax a new blossom
into obvious view
Live with me among the daisies
Bring your passions to these fields
Inosculation of spirits
Brios entwined in submission
To the seasons of life
Leave with me to the daisies
When time can be no more
When you are tired from the roses thorn
And long for gentleness and mercy
To hold you through the night
Lay me softly among the daisies
And let me dream of how they made you smile
And you remembered life’s sweet innocence
As you played in their petals creating
A life of beauty and goodness
Poem | |
I want to thank 101 poets, when words have no limit.
All 101 spots full of flowing imagery and spirit.
Nathan Dilts my #1~writing for him was so much fun.
Nikko's, words are like a shot at roulette~smoking writes like a cigarette.
Writes of fashion from Michael J.~Compares nothing to the writes of Chris A.
Linda our Sweetheart poet~the opposite of Sidney the Mad poet.
John Loving iii, your voice and heart are nice~Through God your words are like advice.
Gert Knop, Dr. Ram, and Robb A. Kopp, the inspiration is none stop.
Andrea D.~her poetry can sure teach me
Sara K., Doris C., Karen O' Leary, Carol B., Deborah G., their all okay with me.
What if I left out Billy K., and Royal T.~how rude would that be.
Harry H., Frank H., Robert L.H., Daver A., and Ravindra K. K.,again how young are they.
A special hi 2 Mattew A., Wilma N., Gerard J. K, Sharon Rubel, and Marycile Beer.
Anthony N., Amy Sulivan, and Anthony B.,~three poets who's poetry are a hit with me.
Ryan E., Dakarai C., Jayne E., and Juan P.G. thanks for always remembering me.
Lynette C. where the H3!! are you~ don't U know we miss U.
Ruben O., John R., Thivia S., Tahera Manna, Katherine S, and Felishia Murphy~hello!
Heather Hill, Joe Maverick, Joy Wellington, Chuck Keys~smile and say cheese.
Audonus T, James P., Cecil H., Diane C., Celene C., Nicole S.B, and Susan Palli.
Kimberly H. Constance, Kevin S., Shelo Morbid~ write poetry that makes you think and hurt.
Delilah V. Jani-K. V., Debra Eckstein, very suave along with Grace E. Song Lee.
Michael G, Anderson T, Taha Effendi, Margeret Bailey, Mia Nuranti~ yes even you Francine.
HI! Sandra Stefanowich, Catie Lindsey, Emily K., Emilia R., and Carrie R..
James(JIMBO) ,Valentino J., Kelechi E., Randall S., Yasmin K., and Nette O.,hello!
Linda Milgate, David B., Jamecia B., Kris W., David Smalling, & Sylvia C., hi to all of tee.
a.k.a Lil Princess J, The Rockstarr's Princess this line is all 4 you.
Connie M. W., Daniel C., Daniel L., Sasha M., Kay'Sha T., and Raskin B.
Peter K., Bulinya M., Scarlett W., Ralph T., Larry B., Sharon T., & Sarah H.
Teresa S., Sydney P., Earle B., Ryland M., and John Freemen
Mike Butler, Rinki N., Joyce J., Robert A.D, Milton T., Pyhllis B.,~are all sweet
Guy-A.D., Zera M., Hintendra M., and Don J.
Every poet on the soup inspires me in every kind of way.
Might as well add my #1 Nathan D., all over again.
Don't think I forgot about Skat,~ We're like Siamese cat.
To all my poet friends who love paper and pen.
101, profiling friends.