Best 10Th Poems


Premium Member We Are Not Merely Poets

Some of us are secretive at first. We hide our poetry’s soul self, 
gently letting her peep out; sometimes regretting it immediately.
Fearful of critiques from people who do not understand that poetry 
is something we are compelled and born to do with our feelings.
Your diary entries may form themselves into goodness or badness
before you realize your calling as a poet.

Truths shockingly ooze out, surprising you.
Feelings creep out onto a page, in loud angry letters,
or romantic feelings daintily brush onto a crisp lined page
in the form of sweetness and light.

You are a word player, because you cannot
stop this obsession, but it does not define you.
This poetry gig is but a glimmer of a glimpse of yourself.
You might be a caregiver, or a wonderful friend.
People who count on your smile every day may not realize
you have a love affair with words, and an obsession to write them.

We are each a unique jewel, mined from God’s mind.
Poetry may initiate a whisper of a tiny facet of ourselves,
but our secrets are safe. We not merely poets. We are lovers
of life, and words. Most importantly, we remain gloriously hidden 
and unknown to most.

Written 12-20-18        Contest:  You Are Not Defined by Poetry
             Sponsor:  John Hamilton
Categories: 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Oceana

Oceana

Oceana flings her sequined petticoats
Upon the sands as if to toss the seaweed 
From the swirling edges
While she dances with the wind
With each turn she swings her skirts
In thunder
As she passes – faster, faster -
Until her laughter foams upon the waves
And in the early midnight dawns
She turns to cover up 
Her turquoise evening gown
With capes of fog so thick
The soaring gulls seem to carry
This her summer train
To quickly change into a dress of silver satin,
Bound with trims of frothy sprays,
Rising and swelling,
When morning reaches for windy afternoons,
She teases sudden lightning outbursts
Leaving behind upon the outstretched strands
A foaming lace of pearls
That decorate her new rippling dress
Of brilliant sapphire blue
Drawing it around the world in flowing currents
To follow, ever follow, the lilting music
Of her lover moon,
Softly singing enchanted melodies,
Ever beckoning his earthbound bride unto himself
To watch her gaily waltz upon the rolling seas
Circling to his rune. 

8-22-25
3rd - Rob Carmack Premiere VIII

6-29-22 - N/A
Contest: Marathon Mile Five
Sponsor: Mark Toney

8-13-22 -
5th - Poetry Marathon Mile 12
Sponsor: Mark Toney

6/20/19
On Top 100 All Time Poems list
1st - Trophy Win - Juliet Lingon
1st - Julia Ward 11/29/20
1st - Brian Strand 1/14/20
Featured Poem 5/2/21
Included in Poetry Soup Anthology #2 - It's Still Poetry
Included in CWC Anthology - First Prize Winner Independent Publishers Award
                                                         Indie Press Awards
Categories: 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member What Is Stopping You

What is holding you back?
What is stopping you?
What is making you uncomfortable 
about asking?
about wanting?
about dreaming?
about wishing?
about expecting?
about planning?
about setting new goals?
about learning new things?
about figuring out other ways?
about being your most excited self?
about opening yourself up to new opportunities?
New  possibilities? New people? New places? A new job?
Or is it a who?
Categories: 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Beauty Can't Compete

Lingering rays of sunlight slowly die
as scarlet burns the sky, where clouds ignite.
And while the birds roost, bats begin to fly,
capturing elusive moths in mid-flight.
Luna hangs high in an ebony sky,
spinning dreams into beams of golden light.
And twinkling stars, like fireflies in the night,
confetti the heavens, dazzling the eye.

Like gold filigree, pinned to the darkness:
galaxies adorn the heavens above,
and shooting stars unzip the black of space.
Yet, Man stands unabashed in His starkness,
for Nature's beauty can't compete with love;
an emotion intrinsic to His race.
Categories: 10th grade, 12th grade,
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member That Tiny Spark of Hope

"what is this strange place, we find ourselves in
trapped in the open, we are free within"

in the darkest realm of desperation,
we find love and some hope for elation,

in swirling crowds, solace of solitude,
amongst stony hearts, pearl of gratitude,

in eddy currents of tears, hint of smile,
in scorching heat, shade to rest for a while,

a crack of lightning in gloom of clouds,
in violence of storms, beacons on grounds,

in chaos, anarchy, voice of reason,
a rose in full bloom, outside its season,

so ride on, ride on, ride on till sunset,
captain your life, ride on with no regrets,

sail with your dreams, with strong courage to win,
trapped in the open, we are free within!
Categories: 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Fueled By Love

Grief conceals itself
behind a veil
of anger, fear, and disbelief:
and yet, it invades your every thought.
In your heart, you want to lash out
at Death:
to send the hurt back!
Grief clings to Death:
and in so doing
devastates the living.
Your world shrinks
to memories:
reflected in pools of tears.
And life loses its spark:
a part of you is missing;
leaving a hole in your heart.
Time is but a concept
of the mind:
it has no power over grief.
And yet, there is something
stronger than time,
that can numb the pain, and comfort the soul: 
a faith, fueled by love, hope, and trust.
Categories: 10th grade, angst, anxiety,
Form: Free verse


Premium Member To My High School Math Teacher

Thank you, Mr. Rogers (yes, his real name!) 
for rescuing me from teenage purgatory.

       Perplexed teenager, lacking social lumen
       pulled C's in English, D's in History -
       my dreadful retrograde trajectory
       projected no collegiate acumen,
       in prom discussions, practically subhuman!
       Then, your poetical geometry
       and sleek Cartesian choreography
       became my sailing ship, and I, its crewman.
       Derivatives soon danced in arcs non-static.
       Pythagorean proofs helped me progress,
       vectors resolved problems that once would vex.
       Your agile algebra of joy quadratic:
       my new hypotenuse of happiness 
       helped me to find myself... I solved for x.


Written 13 March 2020
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Italian Sonnet

Premium Member Time

Time is not
     a ticking clock,
          it has
            no past, present,
                    or distinct future;
                         each moment
                              woven

forever
     in the
          fabric of
               creation
                   is eternal and
                         as infinite as space
                              yet,

recognizable.


(Yalto)


07/02/2020
Time- 8 Word Challenge Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: A Dear Heart
Categories: 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Verse

Premium Member A Bullfrog's Croak

Silent as smoke, darkness descends;
while shadows merge and daylight ends. 
For, summoned by a bullfrog's croak;
darkness descends, silent as smoke.

The Moon pools in ebony skies;
and gilded gold; She starts to rise.
One of the night's brightest jewels;
in ebony skies: the Moon pools.

Blue bleeds red from a dying sun,
a telltale sign that Day is done.
Inking crimson clouds overhead;
from a dying sun, blue bleeds red.

Signaling for love, fireflies flash,
as dusk settles like sooty ash.
Under the stars, twinkling above;
fireflies flash, signaling for love.
Categories: 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Legion of Doom

howling black wolves complain to new moon,
of devastation wrought by creatures!
different from rest in size and shape,
walk on two legs, strange hairless features!

in packs behind rigid barriers,
cunning to modulate world to needs,
the rivers run dark under their feet,
trees have perished to nourish their seeds!

clouds now migrate away to the south,
it thunders and rains where once desert,
vast oceans expand as glaciers melt,
cold death now haunts where once birds would nest.

hunt us down, say are born of devil,
spare not a thought for nature’s reasons,
we hunt when hungry, the weak and lame,
but they kill for game in all seasons!

fire horrors ravage homely woods,
cuckoo laments morning with its lore, 
big herds that walked now dress their rooms,
world is wounded, earth is bleeding sore!

Horror! Horror! we cry to the moon,
our laments tear down the dark silence,
ruled by these creatures with hearts of stone,
they are destructive sans repentance!

we fear not ghosts that lurk in the dark,
nor dripping blood from a sharpened steel,
greater horror lurks where these things haunt,
a pestilence that rocks nature’s keel!

Written 3/May/2021
Funom Makama sponsored
Horror poetry contest

9 syllables each line- 
lines2 and 4 rhyme in all quatrains!
POTD 05/05/2021
Categories: 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member My Paintings Call My Name

My art delights me, covers my walls.
Smiling, dancing, laughing magical beings.
Reminding me how much I love to choose colors.
Appreciated by no one as much as myself.

Proud neon colors saturate my house,
My artwork is in nearly every room,
Each room a challenge. Which one is the best?
Which one would I choose for painting of the week?

I am obsessed with the pure joy and excitement
I receive as I choose my colors, plowing through my paints.
I know exactly what color each bottle and squeeze tube makes.
Happily painting my whimsical creatures, I am choosy about it.

Almost every painting includes a woman, and I start with her eyes.
Every single time, drawing the two orbs first, or one if I want her
To appear to be looking sideways.  Every single time. No exceptions.
I have never begun a painting that did not start with the eyes.

Pirates, dragons, unicorns, faeires, elves, and mushroom houses 
Laugh at me from my covered walls. Seventy’s peace sign and hippies.
In hip-hugging bell bottoms, are burning their bras in my living room.
They make me happy, and they make me laugh. They are whimsical.

Ladybugs, peacocks, tulips, flower gardens, lily of the valley, horses too.
My art delights me, brings my mood from minus twelve to one hundred and sixty.
In a few minutes, I can take an empty canvas and turn it into an original piece
Distinctly mine, I doubt I have to sign them. They all call my name, and loudly.
Categories: 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member A Knee-Jerk Reaction

An outpouring of happiness,
love surges up from the heart
and splashes against the soul: 
an emotion, exclusive to humans.

More than a ubiquitous word:
love is an overwhelming feeling of elation
that burns in your heart,
and merges with your soul; 
defying logic and reason.

The human heart entertains a multitude
of inexplicable innate feelings,
that fuel hopes and expectations.
Love is such a feeling:
both ethereal and physical,
it defines humanity.

A heart imbued with love will forgive:
what a prideful heart will not.
For love's a knee-jerk reaction
that requires no thought.

Love can bring excruciating pain,
or a euphoric adrenaline rush:
either way, it will not be ignored
nor ever fade away.
Categories: 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Edges

ebony edges
twilight blackens sketched shadows~
scarlet-stained sunset

dusk dribbles dewdrops
flower petals atrophied~
evening primrose, bloom

pinwheel galaxies
swirling stars orbit black holes~
bats shadow the night

dawn pierces night's heart
scarlet wounds bleed crimson light~
a hummingbird's hum

day resurrected
scurrying shadows scatter~
colors coalesce
Categories: 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Haiku

Premium Member In the Know With Vangogh

In the know
With Van Gogh
You all think you know him
But who channels him?
Who swims in color?
Who has paint on their hands in a perpetual way?
You all think you know him
I live him.
Categories: 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Light Verse

Premium Member Wrong Language

Polly had a pet parrot
She wanted to teach to talk
The parrot didn't want to
As parrots only squawk

Polly was frustrated
With her stubborn parrot friend
She was very persistent
Sure of winning in the end

Polly faced the parrot
And started to talk
The parrot bit her on the lip
Which made poor Polly SQUAWK!
Categories: 10th grade,
Form: Rhyme
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