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Best Poems Written by Jim Tidd

Below are the all-time best Jim Tidd poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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The Rams

Royal blue and gold
needs to return to sunny
Los Angeles now!

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Peaceful Plot

Put bird feeder by my stone,
so I will never be alone;
plant a tree, apple or pear,
flowers to give the spot some flair;
at least some grass, but do not trim,
so people might come on a whim
to share the earth with one below
lined up along this cemetery row.
A marbled bench would be so nice,
or birdbath for some added spice;
I do not want my resting place
to be unseemly, lacking grace.

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Duffy Dean

Leonine, with whispy fur,
So soft it’d make a human purr.
Squinty eyes and button nose,
no stranger to a model’s pose.
Stalks the halls of Sarah’s lair,
a life of ease sublimely fair.
You may think he’s just a cat,
But we all know he’s more than that.


[Written in honor of a friend's Himalayan Persian--I think---a personable cat that I often use as a character in short stories and even a radio script.]

[For anyone interested in the radio show I wrote about Duffy, here is a link:  http://sylvannovelust.blogspot.com/2013/12/adventures-of-duffy-dean-unified-story.html]

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Rams Win

Royal blue won out
with luck and perseverance;
now to Super Bowl.

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Pretend

Pretend, how about it,
a different life,
one of more accord
and much less strife,
of calmer days
and soothing winds,
quivering leaves on
swaying limbs,
light blue skies
with puffy clouds,
no shouting people 
in riotous crowds.

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Rejoinder To Kpm and Cgr

It only takes a few years gone
for everyone to forget that song;
though often later generations
will not keep their venerations
of cherished family now long past,
faint memories die off real fast!
Faces lost, even distant laugh,
if not captured in photograph;
portraits peel and fade away
unless in museum they do stay,
and even when on wall they bask,
most future viewers often ask
“Who is that person? Who were they?
Were they important in their day?”
Statuary might be concrete,
memoirs can be indiscreet,
tombstones often wear away,
nothing on Earth can long stay;
we return to dust, one in the same
while only few win lasting fame.

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Blink

I’ll not mount those stairs again,
nor traverse distances seemed unfair,
to chase some dream of heaven bliss,
or follow path for enchanted kiss;
my feet shall never hike some trail
in search of treasure or some thrill,
no promise made will stir my feet,
I’ve suffered some sort of defeat,
loss of heart stemmed my dreams,
curiosity fled, or so it seems,
and wonder if I’ll get it back
before some fatal heart attack.
I’m not sad, if so you think,
but life can change in just a blink.

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Afterlife

If our soul is also mind
And we don’t leave it behind,
Then afterlife will be okay;
There is space for lots of play.

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Canceled

One sad thought for me;
when I die and they cancel 
my library card.

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Writing For Myself

Woke in night writing poetry,
and I do this a lot;
Grabbed a pen and piece of paper
so that I could then jot;
Down some lines, not that great,
but mean a lot to me;
Hope that I can capture some
internal magic key;
Don’t care if readers love them,
my ditties are for fun;
Cause in the end I really write 
for readership of one.