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Best Poems Written by Frank Simon

Below are the all-time best Frank Simon poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Frank Simon Poem

Listening To the Rain

Gentle rains falling with ease are welcome this day.
The wind stops then turns around the old weathervane.
Lightning flashes; thunder crashes, rolling away.
Gather in these sounds while listening to the rain.

"The Rainy Day" by Longfellow, stirs the spirit.
Reading poems by candlelight, the power nixed.
One needs to take a moment - and relax a bit.
Liquid tickles the rain gauge for an inch and six.

Do not become depressed if dark, dreary, and cold.
Sun still shines above the clouds completing this chain.
Hence it is time to shake off the drops of the old!
Pleasure in the sounds when listening to the rain.

Thick steaks grilling and sizzling over hot charcoal.
Glancing reverberations' from puddles splashing.
Both sound the same at times, a wondrous measured toll.
The bright lightning and loud thunder keep on crashing.

The power back on now, more storms are on the way.
To find comfort in dark clouds, questions if I'm sane.
I can't expect the same of you, just this to say.
Soak up those noises heard, listening to the rain.

Details | Frank Simon Poem

Wandering Souls

As we meander through the lifeless days
Escaping true bliss and the heated blaze.
Aimlessly searching for a better goal
We traverse this world as wandering souls.

Most times days are dark as a mystery
Dropping as dead leaves from a sunlit tree.
Wasting our time as though prodigal trolls
We circumnavigate as wandering souls.

Born bad seeds falling through steep cragged cracks
Trying to fill empty holes to get back.
Ogres and gargoyles can't rock but we roll
Destined to ramble on, wandering souls.

Our hell is excursions with nothing said
One can't change agony and lifelong dread.
Always a party filled with laughs,so droll
Not for us vagabond wandering souls.

Details | Frank Simon Poem

Reminiscent of Youth

Back to the window, I sit and glare.
    When we were young, easier to please.  
I'm just sitting in my rocking chair.
Now I watch the world pass by and stare.
    Remembering days of carefree ease.

Wouldn't let pain slow us down, were fine.
    Run around, climb then jump off our shed.
Not knowing then at that certain time.
We'd never be closer to our prime.
    Knock on wood-no broken bones, just bled.

Wanderlust of our youth now to fade.
    Though the final price is still unclear.
The total taxes on bodies made.
By everyone, this will have been paid.
    Until our bodies will not change gear.

I'd say that life was better than fair.
    To look back at all we did as kids.
So here I sit in my rocking chair.
Back when our lessons were learned with care.
    Of all the dares and raising the bids.

Details | Frank Simon Poem

Closet Doors

Most closet doors are ok, if they're brand new homes.
Decorated with posters of the Rolling Stones.
Oh the monsters I made up when I was a child.
Inside my head were the sights of beasts running wild.

Some closet doors are made to punish naughty kids.
Because parents, though some grand, really blew their lids.
Long timeouts in the dark, sit still and be quiet.
But when I got out, I'd start a brand new riot!

Luckily all those times, are all behind me now.
So when I think back then, there's no beating my brow.
I don't see the monsters, or wild beasts anymore.
But clothes kept getting larger, in my closet doors.

Details | Frank Simon Poem

Passing of Time

When the sun becomes a frosty sno-cone.
    And all mountains sink as giant souffles.
    The desert is now mudpuddles to play.
The seas fall out with the tide calling home.
    Oceans say goodbye with one final wave.

The clock doesn't tick, and it doesn't tock.
    Dreams become nightmares for our final day.
    Chemicals and molecules turn to spray.
Souls uncertain future smote by the shock.
    No passing of time left, no more dismay.

Details | Frank Simon Poem

Poets Verse

Music is poems with notes set to sing.
Whatever the words, emotions to bring.

Some sad songs can really bring you down.
Listen to some blues, to keep your frown.

Other times it's fun acting like a clown.
Stay low for so long, then come back around.

Now most poets tend to call their work songs.
Whether or not, I just want to belong.

Rhyming with timing and verse set to meter.
Has to make sense, or I'll call you a cheater.

I cannot write any notes, to music anyway.
I can write poems,  if you listen to what I say.

Rhyming with timing without any reason.
Is hard on my brain in any one season.

Although all the old poems are considered better.
A new one by chance may strike on this letter.

Details | Frank Simon Poem

Ships Equipped With Souls

Our bodies are ships going with the tide.
The peaks and valleys that we all must ride.

Riding the waves being tossed to and fro.
Moving with the current, or ebb and flow.

If all hope is lost, and your faith is short.
What about love, if the soul is in port?

Go and remove the barnacles of sin.
Merely waiting for our ship to come in.

Suspended in dry dock; good time to pray.
You've been restored, go back to work and play.

Sometimes at the bow, sometimes at the stern.
Sometimes below deck, from all these we learn.

Details | Frank Simon Poem

Early Morning Treats

The frost on the ground is glistening,
     We wake with a new today.
Water for hot coffee is whistling,
     Slowly the night melts away.

It's a special time of each new day,
    The air is clean, cool and light.
The sun has yet to blink one bright ray,
    I long for this gorgeous sight.

Auburn with purple and pinkish hues,
    Beautiful colors all blend.
Scarlet-orange with a splash of blues,
    Daybreak starts to make amends.

Dawn, the finest and the best surprise,
    Finds me tranquil and quite calm.
Early morning treats come at sunrise,
    It's now that I have no qualm.

Details | Frank Simon Poem

Drastic

On a minute to minute basis,
I hope to find a new oasis.

I'm wrestling with my demons,
Because they're always scheming.

Now this bad feeling comes over me.
Zaps all of my fun and energy.

No spring, no recoil, or elastic.
Don't do something that could be drastic.

Right now I feel like a miniscule speck.
My life seems it's closer to a train wreck.

Down most of the time, just won't rise above.
You can't always save what you truly love.

I'm not the kind to act dramatic.
Don't do something considered drastic.

What's happened to me? Well- I'm sick you see.
What to do for now? Cease the blues somehow.

Reach out and give someone a call.
Before you take that giant fall.

Take my mind off these thoughts so tragic.
Don't tempt me or think I'm sarcastic.

All I really want is, a big, long hug.
Is that so bad? Love conquer this thug.

Details | Frank Simon Poem

Peel

Trying to figure out this way that I feel
I'm a dark banana; whole world is my peel.

Sunshine without light, my soul is heavy
More clouds and tears of rain, break my minds levee.

I'm always in darkness- most of the time down
The guy who always laughed wears only a frown.

If I could peel away this shell of disgust
Blow away these dark clouds of hate and mistrust.

This layer of skin that sheds so easily
Goes away designed, not to end pleasingly.