Best 7Th Poems
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?
Now I lay me down to sleep
In my home that's really sweet
Had three large meals and a snack
There wasn't a hint of any lack
Comfortable shoes and clothes that fit
My heart's desires my money can get
Friends and family know my name
So many opportunities it's just insane
Doctors and dentists, heat and air
A hope and a future.. No despair
Little chance I'll die before I wake
But if I do, my soul God will take.
But the homeless orphan goes to sleep
His unbathed body on a filthy street
Sold himself today to get a meal
From a slimy stranger with a dollar bill
No life, no skills, no future, no hope
No family, no friends, no heat, no coat
No shelter, no job, no doctor, no care
No money, no support, no help anywhere
Despair and neglect, a fight to survive
A shell of a child more dead than alive
And if this orphan dies before he wakes
Will he know my God his soul to take?
~Lyric Man
Note: Just returned from two weeks in Africa. I’ve seen the most amazing and the most tragic sights. This poem/prayer is a contrast of a typical western lifestyle to that of a fatherless orphan.
PS-I’ve basically been without internet for the past two weeks and have missed reading your poetic works. May you and I never take take for granted all the blessings that we have been afforded!
Laughing, dancing, having the time of her life,
Faerie Fun went from mushroom house to toadstool cottage,
Spreading joy,
Playing with everyone
In a kind and pleasant way.
There was going to be no sadness
In Faerie Forest today if she could help it.
It is up to me, she said.
I am the catalyst for happiness today.
She ate breakfast with the Nymph family,
And they laughed about silly stuff,
But no people.
She watched Lila Leprechaun’s Lilliput dance,
And she clapped and clapped while
Mama Leprechaun took care of the
Unhappy baby. Baby calm. All is well.
Faerie Fun was soon skipping
Up the walk to the most challenging
House of all.
Change your attitude! She warned herself.
Change your attitude!
Her jaw was clamped tightly shut now, and she
Was already filled with dread.
Pixie Dust! Her internal voice yelled. NOW!
The sparkly particles surrounded her, and settled down all over her, calming her instantly, and
Changing her attitude from not-so-great to wonderful.
Before she left Grump-Eater’s house, he gave her a long, lingering hug. No one gets me like you, he said.
Progress at last.
Sometimes it is simply a matter of us changing our attitude.
Secretly, I watch the neighbors,
From my well-advantaged location.
Mrs. G. is complaining about her husband to Mrs. S.
No one's drama is ever as vivid as Mrs. G's.
They full-body laugh, tongues out.
Mr. P. is going to be late for supper again;
I can hear Mrs. P. cussing.
At 4:15 I hear the all-day waited slam of a backdoor.
My girl is running toward me, flat out.
She is carrying a white pillow and gray blanket.
There's a plastic bag swinging from her arm as she climbs.
Prior experience tells me the sack holds a book, a drink
and her favorite sandwich - mayonnaise, peanut butter and lettuce.
After smashing a few ants on my floor, the girl flops down,
and begins to read.
I smile as she devours the sandwich like a young starving wolf.
She's ten, the perfect age to devour.
Every day is the same except Saturday.
On Saturday my girl spends the whole day inside me,
reading two to three books at a time.
It is our favorite day.
Her sister runs out sometimes and begs the girl to play,
but we are fighting pirates, conquering Asia, taming macaws.
We are so in tune, she and I.
When I hear "CANDICE MILLIE STREET COME IN IMMEDIATELY!"
I know my girl has to climb down and run for the house,
leaving me alone,
to spy on the neighbors.
Date: 8/28/2018 What the Hell Throw One In John Lawless, Sponsor
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.
In a gorgeous meadow chock full of butterflies and daylilies there lived a
sassy happy beautiful dragonfly. She was loved by the tulips, roses, and coneflowers. The monarchs revered her, seeing the joy she brought to the meadow. This little dragonfly did her best to fit in, nurturing each aspect of the meadow as was her right.
pretty dragonfly
spreading love to the flowers
expecting nothing
Faith is not a blind belief
But a trust in something unseen
Faith is not a wishful thinking
But a hope in something real
Faith is not a passive acceptance
But an active engagement
Faith is not a rigid dogma
But a living relationship
Faith is not a burden to bear
But a gift to receive
Faith is not a weakness to hide
But a strength to share
Faith is not a solo journey
But a communal adventure
Faith is not a destination to reach
But a path to follow
I had an alien for two weeks before I realized how unusual she was.
I wish I could be a mouse in the corner, I had said, and I was.
My alien gave me a cracker, patted me on the head, and reminded me
Once again, how important it is to keep her earth-visit quiet from the masses.
I nibbled on the cracker nervously, wondering how long I would be stuck
Wearing this smelly fur suit, dragging this ugly super long tail?
Praying that Shark, my killer cat was out hunting somewhere else.
Poof! I was back in my normal body.
What other talents do you have? I asked my alien friend.
Not in words because aliens from the two-galaxies-over talk in thoughts.
I am a tripartite, she tele-pathed to me.
What’s that?
Her body immediately transmogrified into three separate, untouching-pieces.
Before I could close my shocked wide-open mouth, she had transmuted back into one complete alien.
Can you disappear? I asked her.
That was the last I ever saw of her.
Some days, however, I feel that she is here, invisible, watching me,
On those days, I wonder if I am going to find
Myself munching on a cracker.
When I think of the things I'm afraid of,
All of my fears and worries flood my head,
Their screams steal my focus from things above,
Some mornings I cannot get out of bed,
Panicking as I look for a way out,
Acting confident as I go about,
Nobody ever knows I'm so afraid,
Sometimes I feel as though I'm worry's maid,
Then I listen, and He says, "Do not fear",
And then He reminds me He's always near,
Every worry suddenly flied away,
My fear no longer messes with my thoughts,
All this is so because God loves me lots,
I no longer fear the things of this world.
The witch and the tiger sat on opposite sides of the moon,
Starring at each other, wondering who would eat whom
The witch was cagey, wily and wicked,
And she had magic powers, so she was not afraid.
The moon shook the witch off.
She had a broom, which she grabbed at the last minute.
The tiger was fierce and majestic.
He had sun-like yellow eyes, and stripes that moved.
The moon was going to let the tiger stay,
But something weird happened.
The tiger gave the moon a little bite
Because that is what a tiger does.
So the moon shook the tiger off too
Luckily, the tiger had wings, and flew.
So you never know
How a story will end.
faeries in the air
elves fixing grass quietly
soft springtime magic
A fox was a kit and a dog was once a puppy.
Don’t throw a fit, but a fish was never a guppy.
A horse was a colt. And a hen was always a chick.
How about banana split’s scoop, could we call it a lick?
A butterfly was a caterpillar,
A green spotted frog was a polliwog.
A child was a well-loved neonate,
Piglet was once the name of a giant hog.
Fawn instantly tells you something of his age,
Pony is not an indicator at all.
Lamb gives you a wonderful clue so sage.
Animals are delightful to me, big and small.
SCARRED FOR LIFE
children are screaming
they have the thousand mile stare ~
traumatised for life
TEARFUL GOODBYES
at the rail station
dad's hug their wives and children ~
say goodbye with tears
GUTLESS COWARDS
cowardly russians
indiscriminate firing ~
a mound of rubble
MEN AND WOMEN OF HONOUR
proud ukrainians
their bravery unsurpassed ~
russians retreating
HARBINGER OF DOOM
sounds of the cities
the wail of air raid sirens ~
herald deaths approach
LOWEST FORM OF LIFE
lone women and kids
predators and peadophiles ~
preying on the weak
PERVERTED COWARDS
men and women
stripped and humiliated ~
russian physchopaths
ANSWERING THE CALL
non ukrainians
International legion ~
help fight aggression
MASS MURDERER
visions of grandeur
twisted ideologies ~
vladimar putin
AN HONOURABLE MAN
the man of the hour
president vol zelensky ~
stands with his people
UKRAINIAN STATE FLAG
bright blue and yellow
a symbol of defiance ~
flutters in the breeze
WRITTEN 30TH MARCH 2022
Squirrel’s friendly kisses,
Squirrel’s loving squeeze.
Squirrel’s touch just misses.
Squirrel, if you please!
We are playing surprise?
Squirrel’s paws on my eyes.
I am supposed to guess?
Up in this squirrel nest?
Squirrel of my dream,
You are making me beam.
You are a shining star,
I know which one you are.
You will need a terrific setting. The suck up kids are nodding.
Make sure that your character is interesting.
She says this in a monotone voice.
The only voice she has.
The one that puts me to sleep.
I languish back, whispering with my tree.
A willow with flowing hair, and a sweet nod.
Her bluebirds call my name, inviting me to dance.
A teacher’s droning is in the background, but I can ignore her.
She is easy to ignore.
Here is a template you’ll need.
Two teacher’s pets immediately say they will pass them out.
The teacher calls another one’s name.
A reluctant student who is probably in the land of giants
Slaying dragons.
I smile. It’s not me this time.
Cardinals and robins flit over, hunting for food.
There is a brush against my arm. It’s the template.
But I pretend it is the willow tree, loving me.
My eyes begin to close, a nap in the works.
I enjoy my soft day with her gentle quick ways.
I am in the zone, asleep under the willow. It is a warm day. The sun is gentle.
“Will need a partner,” teacher says, bringing me back to my 5th grade desk.
I choose Jameson, I say, noting his horrified look.
He knows I did not hear almost any of the instructions.
They all know I am usually more than half asleep in most of my classes.
Someone giggles.
The teacher must have given her a sharp look.
The giggle stops in mid giggle.
Jameson is terrified that I will not know what to do, but I do.
Taking the paper out of his hand, I offer to do the writing.
I ask for his ideas.
He has none.
So I begin with a flourish!