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Best Poems Written by Contact Us.Aspx

Below are the all-time best Contact Us.Aspx poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Bright Light, Dim Light? DARK!

In the midst of the raging waves,
they watched her gulp the callous cunning darts.
Her crumbly heart cruelly impaled; the fate that enslaves.
So fondly she’d mask the marks.
Her soul would ache and bleed from life’s glaives.
She cried an ocean for redemption from a life perpetually stark.
In desperation, the rope ends it.

With stigma the chums looked in utter scorn,
and nattered her solitary life she so drowned in.
As a jest they’d laugh it off and know not the pain borne.
Options to content would be the faster poison to kick in.
The jeer and tough love, be strong. Would suicide suborn?
Yet blithely a random word alienates, even with the kin.
The loop finally tightens round the neck.

With croc tears the mates flock to condole.
“If this message would reach Mary in heaven;
life lost so young—” all will strive to console.
For what? She writhed in pain and longed for a haven,
but scornfully, her soul you shunned like a rotten pole.
Her tombstone, now a patch-spot for a raven.
World’s cold shoulders soaked in her silent tears.

Be chaste, fair-weather friend, lest you atone.
Religion and priests you’ve scorned,
while the vain fanes of pretense you adorn.
In exalted hallow worship, you plead with Him
to remold the hearts of clay to vessels of honor.
Yet in your hearts of tin you curse and vilify—
you thought it was an act and left her marooned.

For remaining Mary, my soul cries to you.
Blinded by constant flopped success.
For the media, it’d hurt not to leave a cue.
Live the sacred life, gifted as a princess.
And flout their nonsensical bleats of an ewe.
I’ll wait on the podium for a fess.
It’s never the end—you’ll ever chew the bitter pill.

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The final Destination

As this train will come to a stop unexpectedly in the happy hour, 
And the station is a thousand miles more, yet not there but, 
The urge to go back and book again, but how? 
True, nobody can know, nobody will know 
That Lions and bears cry too 
And they crave just 
A little love and 
A hug 

End! 
Not yet 
Not yet the end 
Only the beginning to a 
Long journey, that I embark on 
I am sitting, looking, waiting for a train 
One that will take me to the far end, dream land 
One filled with ethereal culmination of beauty unseen 
And in my holy mountain, none bruises another’s feet on account of,
The weight that made the temple to crush cruelly in the ruins of former Egypt 
None shall point a finger to the least of the unimportant, oh yes 
None shall falsely accuse even the condemned of Misri
It is a world filled with wonder and beauty beyond 
And there we will cheer for a past forgotten 
Beauty that will make the soul merry 
Merry for a beginning of the end 
And end to the beginning of 
The end of a long cry 
A flawless smile 
Beauty of the 
End

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Am In Love With the Wind

In the realm of dreams and gaiety
A rose blooms in my heart, glamour strikes with vivacity 
My stretched hand reaches to fondly pet the palm 
But like wind, the goddess ghostly evanesces with a calm 
Dotingly I endeavor to serenade the enchantress. 
 
Off the warbling lute the soft ditties sing 
From the changing tune, the pitch to the ears sting 
Yet with a sparkling giggle your spook infatuate 
With fortitude, realms I’ll cross to graduate 
The school of endurance you command with shrewdness 
 
With agility I fly, but you’re too fast to reach 
Roaring water crushes at the beach 
Sand so calm I hanker to hold 
The setting shining sun glares, with a frail I behold 
Because am in love with the wind 
 
Slacken my love! Off my feet you sweep with desire 
My heart you take; sturdily I admire 
Like a magnet, your enigma besots with charm 
And the goal to get I’ll praise with a psalm 
For I loathe to crush on the wind 
 
The world will mock, but the love will shush the chatter
A future so bright they’ll hail the latter 
And applaud our allure’s perpetuity 
With fantasy our posterity shall sing of a deity 
For all is possible, even love with the wind!

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Whispers

You might say, “I long to chase this path, 
As far as it can go, to witness, feel and join,
The adventures of the wanderers. 
I want to mimic them, and do as they do. 
To dance as they dance and cry when they cry. 
I want to see their sun of joy and pain, 
When it rises and sets. 

Their ways are trendy, 
They speak and allies thunder with ovation
They appear and their peers cheer!
The world knows their names 
I will endure no more solitude! 
Boredom gnaws my soul; I want to go now!”

But heed me, friend, 
Can you flourish in this dance of shadows! 
Where humanity lies buried in the past? 
Behold! blood of innocent flows like a stream, 
In the hands of gannets who scour every corner 
To feed their greed, they loot and kill
And drink the stranger’s wine 
They are vultures that feast on the dead
The path swarms with scavengers, 
who brawls for your breath! 

A pack of wolves will prowl in scores,
And shower you with flattery, even worship 
They will sway to your tune with glee 
But trap you in eternal bondage 
You’ll be their puppet on a string,
Some will chatter your poverty 
And scorn your former clemency.

Listen, my dear friend Stop staring at me, 
March on, you do not see the way, I know
But march on! march through this fog of reality 
Open your ears wide, listen to the whispering voice
To the faint utterance in the still wind
Shun easy goings, my friend,
The path is riddled with traps 
Dodge them and stride ahead
You might finally enjoy, 
A taste of honey beyond joy, 
Living is no piece of cake!

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VEIL OF BLOOD

Crimson hue, last stain of life with ears,
Ritual’s mark, from hunger and thirst earth drinks,
Thick and red, a crimson rain, that sacred flow!
Binding souls in eerie light and,
Draws like a moth to light.
Emotions, weightier than a thousand on a scale
Veiled in dark, that haunting stain in treaties.
“Blood is thicker than water”

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A Market of Broken Scales

As I walk through the market in the early light
I see the vendors and the buyers in a constant fight
I see the goods and the prices change every night
I see the scales and the weights that are never right

The vendor claims the scales are his only heirloom
The ones he got from his father along with his doom
The ones that make him wealthy with their deceit
The ones that give him an edge with their cheat

The buyer cries the scales are his only nightmare
The ones he faces every day with his despair
The ones that take his voice with their spite
The ones that leave him no choice with their might

The goods sigh the scales are their only prison
The ones they endure every time with their submission
The ones that seal their fate with their flaw
The ones that steal their joy with their law

The prices moan the scales are their only master
The ones they follow every moment with their disaster
The ones that set their value with their whim
The ones that deny their worth with their dim

The market is a mirror of the world of woes and wonders
A world of broken scales and unfair measures
A world of broken people and unequal pleasures
A world of broken dreams and unfulfilled treasures

But I am not the market, I am not the broken scales
I am not the broken people, I am not the broken dreams
I have a choice and a voice and a chance
A choice to fix the scales and the measures

A voice to speak and settle gender scores
A chance to show dignity for gents and mses
End the home's scolds with a song
We r'all human, we crave a plate of meat and féta cheese.

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No moss on the steady stone

When you have lost a gem of priceless worth,
Do not mourn long, what you can't restore;
For in the sky a new star has its birth,
And in the earth more treasures wait to explore.

When you have soared above the highest peak,
Don't swell with pride, your splendid leap;
For in the dark a hidden trap may sneak,
And, in the crowd a foe may strike you deep.

Don’t think that life is a game too sweet,
Or that it’s only a laugh and a cry alone;
For when the climb is not yet complete,
The wisdom lies in being calm; steady-stone.

The fools may laugh themselves to death for vain,
The perfectionists may fret over their flaws;
But you collect yourself and rise again,
And craft a masterpiece from broken straws.

When the road is smooth and clear at last,
Don't lose yourself in pleasures of the mood;
For just a gentle breeze may break your mast,
And drown your spirit in a raging flood.

He who can hear, let him attend the speech:
He who can see, let him observe the teach.
Be humble in your triumphs, hopeful in your breach.
The race is won by the steady; who never quit.

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The greater design


What lies beyond the bounds of our belief?
The cosmic code that we can never crack
The shades of glory and of grief
The endless edges of the track

What lies beneath the brilliance of our brain?
The wisdom that we often waste
The whispers of the wild and sane
The growth that we can never taste

What lies above the azure of our air?
The mystery that we can never solve
The forces that both bless and scare
The harmony and havoc that evolve

What lies within the wonder of our will?
We can reach our goal with vision call
But the whole, that we can never fill
To collect the stars is everyone’s goal

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Burn not the Bridges

Burn Not the Bridges 

Life is a hubris to uncertainty! 
One day you are a prince, 
The next day you are a slave. 
Indeed, the world is round: 
Burn not the bridges, 
You may use the river again. 
 
We know that focus rewards, 
For you cannot move on, 
With eyes fixed to the past; 
Reconcile with the past ordeals, 
And burn not the bridges, 
You may use the river again. 
 
Time heals but the scabs remain,
To remind of time lost in agony, 
For they’ll thrust you to destiny; 
Because everyone has a date with it. 
Burn not the bridges, 
You may use the river again. 
 
Be solicitous for affluence, 
And supplicate day and night, 
As you abide in pilgrimage, 
To bribe the gods for restitution, 
Yet, Burn not the bridges,
You may use the river again. 
 
We strive and seek haven, 
Where abundance, power and security resides; 
We trample on neighbor’s shoulders, 
To triumph in the “game of life” 
We burn the bridges, 
And drown as we use the river again.

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Crossroads

"Come," whispers a friend, with a grin sly and svelte,
"To the realm where the grandest of marbles do melt.
Take this ticket, no charge, it's a magical key,
To the dance of the cosmos, just you wait and see."

"Launch forth on a rocket, to the stars' jubilee,
Where marbles like planets, in vastness, roam free.
They twirl and they spin, in a waltz so divine,
Levitating with grace, in the celestial line."

"Through the gateways of wonder, your spirit will soar,
Over sand ripples blazing, to the mystical shore.
In the silence of space, find the echoes of mirth,
As you waltz with the stars, far away from the earth."

"The cosmos awaits, with its souls floating light,
In the ballroom of ether, they dance through the night.
No more flops, no more falls, just the freedom to roam,
In the boundless expanse, you shall find your true home."

But I pause,  and I ponder, "What of my return?
To the ground, to the real, where life's lessons are stern.
Will the journey you offer, with its fanciful spin,
Leave me lost to the world I cherish within?"

For the ticket, though tempting, with its promise of flight,
Holds a secret untold, in the shroud of the night.
It's a voyage that severs, with a singular thread,
Addition's hue ties to one's heart, to one's soul—it is said.