Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Best Reason A. Poteet Poems

Below are the all-time best Reason A. Poteet poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

View ALL Reason A. Poteet Poems

123
Details | Reason A. Poteet Poem

Spider's Purse

a dizain

Admire her casting, lines of silky floss;
survey as artist drafts her masterpiece.
Enclosing space invisibly across,
then single-handedly, she will increase
the center parts to form unseen valise.
A purse of unsuspected, vicious taint -
its straps in hand, she naps - a wily feint.
Artistic beauty flows, but will soon ebb,
when tender insects clutter her restraint.
Artiste awakes to wealth within her web.





Details | Reason A. Poteet Poem

Come

 dramatic monologue 

come
come quickly 
come, spotless Bridegroom

come, Lord
come fill our thirst 
come, gift your bride with peace

come and conclude your covenant
come, declare your earthly kingdom
come, show your power over death

even so,
Lord Jesus, come

written by Reason A. Poteet
3 Sep 2014
using anaphora, a poetic device


Details | Reason A. Poteet Poem

Wet but Wiser

A dog! A panic in a pagoda!
Rex sneaked in with a can of cream soda,
he shook it up hard and then pulled the tab.
But Rex was too slow for their choc'late lab.

Cain: a maniac, the brown dog's head swelled,
confused by the fizz but a rat he had smelled.
He was a god's dog, ergo, a ogre -
mighty fine watchdog, well-trained at Kroger.

Schooled in their stockroom with all kinds of nuts
whose tricks won ribbons for all kinds of mutts.
Cain's radar kicked in, went straight for the can
and turned it on Rex who lost his game plan.

On the way out, he offered some Kleenex.
No one's the wiser, except maybe Rex.
Recording the facts, Cain writes in his log,
Was it a rat I saw? or Am I a dog?


6 palindromes:
A dog, a panic in a pagoda
Cain, a maniac
god's dog
ergo, a orgre
radar
Was it a rat I saw


6



Details | Reason A. Poteet Poem

God's Strength, God's Word, God's Love

 trijan refrain 

The heart half full means something’s wrong -
the Spirit’s flame burns low.
When emptied, broken, we are strong
refilled, and ready so -
God’s strength can fix a heart gone dull
our selfish contents He can cull.
       God’s strength restores
       God’s strength restores
each day to keep our mark on full. 

The heart half full means needs may go
unmet by God’s own grace.
We’re called to let our fellows know
that they can win this race.
God’s Word abounds with help each day,
it must be read to find the Way.
       God’s Word abounds
       God’s Word abounds
to fill the empty hearts who stray.

The heart half full calls us to prayer,
it’s time to take a break.
Engaged with work, no time to spare
another’s thirst to slake.
God’s love pours forth when we look up
and ask for wisdom in our cup. 
       God’s love pours forth
       God’s love pours forth
enough to share, our neighbors sup.

written by Reason A. Poteet
posted September 19, 2014
for Giorgio's Structured Verse, Iambic Forms II contest

**I realize this is a combination of iambic verse in tetrameter, trimeter, and dimeter but that is the requirement for a trijan refrain, a variable line length. If it does not meet the rules of your contest, I will understand.


Details | Reason A. Poteet Poem

The Zulu Coconut Speaks

The words of the Zulu coconut, a once coveted souvenir from an indulgent visit to festive Mardi Gras. As our hero speaks two mice nibble unobserved at his coat. "Beads were slung; doubloons cast. Grasping tourists seized the trifling throws. Floats advanced in the queue krewes tossed their tokens wildly. Prize gifts are meant to be given. So I, Zulu, I went from hand to hand." Meanwhile a mischief of mice emerged to attack Zulu's varnished coat. As they quickly devour him, his paint began its work within their stomachs to do the same. Zulu's last witnessed speech: "Far better to restock the soil of earth. Better to be spent as nourishment to some. Better still to end this life by sprouting as a seed of hope. Better than this: "paint may be toxic."
4 - 11


Details | Reason A. Poteet Poem

purple gold

purple gold 
payday on Friday
migrants' plainsong


Details | Reason A. Poteet Poem

Springtime with Gramps

The death of winter carries varied sights.
In April, when dandelions roar, “It’s Spring!”
green yards transform by magic overnight.
Gramps had sprayed his lawn, but in ours weeds bring
an old game for kids as they dance and swing.

Small windmills in disguise, children spread seeds
giving Grandpa a cause for some dismay.
He is no grouch,  fence conversation leads
to friendly talk of butterflies at play -
riddles about what nature does in May.

The kids amazed, watch squirrels building nests,
questions evolve about the birds and bees.
Gramps calls them varmints - Mother's Nature’s pests.
“Ask your folks”, he replies with cough and wheeze.
In naptime dreams, he aims a gun at trees.

Gramps takes a walk, golf umbrella hovers
for spring rains do not announce their coming.
A neighbor lady hobbles to cover.
Listen, his cane on her sidewalk - drumming,
sweet songs of spring love, two voices humming.


written May 7, 2014, edited on May 25, 2014


Details | Reason A. Poteet Poem

Chaff vs Wheat - Relief

a saraband

Your tirade comes, it doth commence,
a hundred miles away I sense
your raging, whiny voice so tense.
In restful tones, my evening sigh
doth thank these stars, you’re in L.A.
I shirk my duties ever nigh
and thoughts engage where'er they may.

As I recline, dark quickly falls
and in my dreams, I snub your calls.
Yet when I wake, receding walls
resound your dire return to home.
I sense both hearts long to be free.
Go claim L.A., just let me roam
these miles that winnow thee from me.



Details | Reason A. Poteet Poem

Time to Remember

couplet

In the pauper's field, the wild cornflowers bloomed,
nature's timeless blessing on those entombed.


Details | Reason A. Poteet Poem

Beyond Salvage

An old herbal gard’ner turned bard
dedicated and well-versed
now works his pen from his backyard
in plants and poems immersed.

His choice nouns engender meaning
cleverly minted with scents.
Rare verbs gingerly gleaning
from time’s savory essence.

Somewhat focused on composing
but nettled by a drizzle;
unexpected down-hosing
causes his brain to fizzle.

Lo! His inspiration now gone
like the ink upon his page.
Mrs. Bard calls from the lawn
“I just watered the sage.”


123