Best A Hideaway Poems


Premium Member In the Forest of My Dreams

Where conifers gaily waltz tempos evergreen
Unspoiled by human deeds, pure, and pristine,
Eagles soar there, spanning freedom wings 
And trees gently whisper to rhythmic bird trills
Echoing grey owls, blue jays, robins, crossbills,
Hopping, jumping, circling, frolicking in breeze
Reveling with hatchlings, feeding on berries
As sun rays filtering-in on wildflowers glow
Oscillating shadows in gusting, windy, woes
Amidst bears’ huffs, woofs, raging ugly growl
When raccoons coyly snarl at foxes’ feral-howl
Hiding from pitter-patter of tropical rainfall
In heavenly paradise as birdsongs toll daylong
Serenading the land where liberty is paramount
In forest of my dreams’ blossoming sanctuary~
A temple, a hideaway, a refuge, an ecosystem,
A reserve for humanity, a shrine for sanctity,
In equilibrium, edifying calmness and peace
Where elixir of sacred life flows in holy streams
Sustaining earth’s renewal in tranquil harmony.

April 17, 2021
Placed 3rd: In the forest of my dreams premium contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
Placed 1st: All yours (Apr 24) contest

Quiescent

In a world over burdened with heartache and despair
there are moments when I find life too difficult to bear.
I long for a sanctuary; a quiet place of tranquil repose.
A cabin in the mountains where no one else ever goes
Or a placid valley where my nearest neighbor is a hare.

It need not be a Shangri La in which I would never age,
but Lord grant me a halcyon clime where there is no rage.
I'd settle for a seaside cave, lulled to sleep by lapping waves
There I'd not shed a tear over loved ones in their graves.
I'd write poetry about enchanting things, page after page.

I'm not looking for a permanent home so I can hibernate,
just a hideaway to myself so my apprehension can abate. 
I need the perfect quiescent place, in a secluded location.
A silk cocoon or a Zen garden so I can relax in meditation
focusing on things that bring happiness so I can feel sedate.



September 30, 2021
"Q" Contest of New Poems
Sponsored by Constance La France

Mini-Vacation

Short but meaningful
Let it be a hideaway 
Full with fresh and serene thoughts
Away from the ever evolving changes!

Brief, I  know though memorable
A stint stay swayed  in my heart
From lingering homesickness
Stationary until it is dynamic again!

Emptying my mind 
Is what I needed most!


Ode To the Lizard King

You crawl forth, slithered, 
The glare blinds the optics of our mind.
The acid king, hallucinations
Of grandeur, now you know you’re alive.

You cheat death, by playing
With hell fires of faith.
A trance, a thought, 
The baggage of sins you brought.

Spewed forth, un-allowed, 
Cloaks shaded by random, 
…Is it found? 
Rational, irrational, to crawl back
Inside, a hideaway, a game he played.

Scales stripped by non-being, 
A lizard king, drenched by 
Sights unseen, while you lay 
Slithering in sand, drenched in mythology, 
And stealing wisdom, as you can.

Flowing like a string in the wind, 
The ball of yarn, hung like a noose.
To speak of your story and how you’ve been, 
Life burnt out, like a falling star in use.

To appear as a mad man, 
But truly on a spiritual journey.
Your voice is a choir set to a chant, 
But behold, our shaman’s in a hurry.

An Untrustworthy Guy

Some guys many skills have mastered,
I blush when I try to tell little lies 
and shaking I reveal my fakeness;
quite a few girls have slapped me hard.

Cindy went on vacation heading South,
she warned me priming up her mouth,  
" Don't mess around with my girlfriend,
don't touch her! " I kept quite and grinned.

I refused to listen and promise I wouldn't;
her look expressed a plausible doubt,
I was a playboy in search of a hideaway 
and while she was gone, I could surely play. 

And fun I had through those two weeks,
Chrissy, the girl with pink and yellow hair,
asked me for a date, I couldn't refuse her
we headed down to the nearest beach to kiss.

Other nights we went to the movies,
we stuffed our mouths with buttery popcorn
and laughed hard spilling our drinks;
cheating on Cindy never induced guilt or scorn.

The time came for me to be slapped hard in the head
for being such a naughty boy, a liar without guilt
who cheated with her best friend to start a conflict
and ready to face embarrassment, I seemed not afraid.  

One July evening when Chrissy and I were kissing
on the velvety sofa, I heard crackling noises coming 
from the kitchen, heavy footsteps started approaching...
" Who is that? I hollered while my fret was increasing.  

" It's me, pretty boy! I am back! You will regret this a lot!"  
 her shrilling voice was a rumbling thunder incurring fright,  
" We are watching, " Friends "! I made up a silly excuse,
" You kissed Chrissy! You promised me you wouldn't have cheated! "
" Blame her, she tempted me! " I couldn't resist her! " I exclaimed.
" Silly boy, enough of your games...you have much to lose! "

" Ah, shameless liar, get out my sight! " And dashing towards me
she slapped me in the head making me feel her hard blow, " Come Chrissy, 
she's going crazy! If she thought I was untrustworthy, why did she
she go on vacation? To test me? " I condemned her action with asperity.


Written on 7/3/2016

Premium Member Inside My Head---Forever Young

I close my eyes....and I'm back again..
in a hideaway, where we would play
A sheltered cove on summer days
A giant oak, that wore our names
carved long ago by childish hands.
A place that takes me far away
inside my head, to yesterday

Overgrown, where willows grow, 
and berry vines, have dangled down
Thorns prick our legs, where I descend
down to the river's edge again
 
Frogs, and fish, and summer sun
filters down to watch the fun,
dampen brows, and warm our backs.
Laughter rides the distant past
 

Remembering, now, with eyes that mist...
Longing for the summer's kiss
When my legs were slim, tanned brown, and strong
A rope swing lifts me in the breeze
I'm drifting high above the trees
I feel the mist, of rippled streams
My hair is gold, beneath the sun

Forever young, I plan to be
Inside my head,..free as the wind



___________________________________
9/16/15


Beatnik Snap

Pale white against the ghostly fog
Smoke curled for lack of oxygen
Black rim glasses hide, head bows
Conceal eyes of cool cat daddy-o

In dark, goatee, groomed and moody
Beret tilted silhouetted, covers identity
Captures blues wrapped in a sax
Brown paper bags cover booze

Jazz releases notes unknown to claps
Fingers snap approval to the poets silence   
Something to be trusted no matter what
Underworld shadows gather dust

A secret spot built on a fog bank conjured up
On a dingy dream found five steps down
A hideaway ten degrees below zero and counting
Leading beyond all cafe dive boundaries 

Cold nights survive on hanging tunes
College degrees wall to wall leave hollow marks
Jive time turkeys hold on to hot tea instead
Twilight characters friendly as death reset

Step down in reality to displease history 
Bass man puffs his last cigarette
Joint smokers fill up the cavern
Underworld types gather with germs abounding

Fallen ash in trays lose attention
Coffee stains on tables remain
Stale as bread half consumed 
Down and dirty with the blues

Tinted in a melancholy stench
Night life rises numb, basement ready
Dim lights permeate the senses 
Lays waste to the alley cat man

Smoke rises in a trance to swoon
Turtle necks hold stiff men intact
A band doing hourly sessions Jam 
Bass players hammer out shadows

Discord is all that matters 
To mimic politics, smoke marijuana 
The attraction of the day is on the menu
Curse words say it all

Snap and double snap poetry incognito
Verses flow like painted butter on walls
On melted atomic babies breath powdered bottom
For war, use the toilets next door on the right

Bullets are the flavor of the day
The favorite flavor after blanks
Matchstick men in bazooka suits flirt
The moon turns supersonic jello cool

Cool cats know squares from pigs 
Cubes are abstractions of night sticks
Never mix with visions of gas lamps 
It is a gas man, can you dig it   

Elephant dancers run wild man
Suspicious of pigs who shoot first
Ask questions about bacon later 
Snap daddy snap on beatnik back

Snow Day

The most awesome words a kid can hear
better than pizza on Friday night
delivered right to your house
better than cuddling with kittens
mmm, maybe not
better than a bubble machine in the tub 
where many fun times were spent
by two dark haired beauties 
making beards and hats out of bubbles
better than a hideaway made out of sheets
draped over chairs secured with hairclips
better than Happy Meals with chicken nuggets and fries
better than playing in the mud after a rain
and digging for worms

Those much anticipated winter words a kid can hear
the forecast of SNOW
when, how much, how soon, can I stay up late just in case
the next day, staying glued to the local radio station
to hear the best words of the year
SCHOOL IS CANCELLED !!!!!!!
Screams of pure joy ensue, plans made for the day
a quick breakfast is consumed then
as swift as plans were made, like a balloon stuck with a pin
the days plans deflate with the announcement
" WE'RE GOING BACK TO BED !!! "

Dreaming Jamaica

It's been one of those days
I need a holiday 
Calgon take me away
To some tropical place 
With palm trees swaying 
To some reggae playing
I'm dreaming Jamaica
Thinking I'll make 
A fast getaway
Jamaica's the place 
Where they don't know my face 
And no one knows my name

An island paradise
All the people so nice
Just like sugar and spice
There's a guy on a Harley 
He looks like Bob Marley 
Hey, so does that other guy

In Montego Bay 
We'll be slipping away 
To a hideaway
You won't believe
There's bar in a tree 
A perfect getaway

It's been one of those days
I need a holiday 
Calgon take me away
To some tropical place 
With palm trees swaying 
To some reggae playing
I'm dreaming Jamaica
Thinking I'll make a 
Fast getaway
Jamaica's the place 
Where they don't know my face 
And no one knows my name

About a world away 
I'm here hauling freight 
Up Dakota way
There's no island stream 
Just a blizzard scene 
Across the interstate

It's minus eight 
And it's getting late
Paradise must wait
There's a Super Eight
They say their Continental
Breakfast is great

It's been one of those days
I need a holiday 
Calgon take me away
To some tropical place 
With palm trees swaying 
To some reggae playing
I'm dreaming Jamaica
Thinking I'll make a 
Fast getaway
Jamaica's the place 
Where they don't know my face 
And no one knows my name

Copyright 2012.

Dawn

All nebulous dreams prospecting,
A hideaway in cloud atolls,
A nightly ocean, warmth awaiting,
In quibbling flow, to dawn's aperture
In spectra falling, spectral play crumbled,
Sojourner stars: their lamps parole
In a distance, behind amnesic lights
Razing autumn clouds, amber hues galore!
Cloud heaths, like bosom steaming
Of shying lovers in meeting pour
Whom expectations, sunrays in flurry,
The sky makes dawn red, and Sun allures
The air, in restless breeze cavorting,
By promised things which procure
A blushful pink, on allusion's canvas,
The whimsy sky in homely warmth pleasured
Into a fecund rosiness, its secrets goaded,
Flee from shadowed swathes: staid, demure;
And where played curt poem, autumn moon;
Is a sky by the the bold and brash secured

Premium Member Courage On Empty

Not one invitation
No need to ask for an explanation
One more night of chagrin
Heart mimics violin
Should by now have thick skin
But no, still stung by intimidation

It’s all some harsh mistake
Deeply maims but only while I’m awake
No one to understand
Bullying wonderland
While I slide in quicksand
And dread so inevitable daybreak

I gladly welcome rain
That’s when bitter tears I need not retain
I, for courage, inhale
Wish time would just derail
Youth no such fairy tale
Unremitting bouts shed sadness and pain

Assailants rude and crude
What I would give for just an interlude
I’d love a hideaway
Dare dream a better way
Some day without foul play
Hang on, truly believe with certitude



AP:  2nd place 2020, 3rd place 2020

Submitted for contest RHYME ME A POEM sponsored by BROKEN WINGS - January 2, 2018  -  RANKED 3RD

Navigating the Landscape

Lush, mossy greens cling to rock mountains 
looming at shore edges like guarding towers
blotting out the sun beyond them.

The boat I ride navigate around this landscape
not really looking for a hideaway from life
nor to let the gloom beneath  consume me.

There is no wind shrieking into the stillness
All is calm, and so my life should be
but why this debilitating sense of euphoria?

This feeling clings to me with such tenacity
lurks under the surface of my own landscape
it's hopeless to blend into its vagaries.

Everything I touch is mere papery veneer
that turns grey as I age not so gracefully
every corner I turn brings me to a cul-de-sac.

I carry around a montage of jumbled thoughts
like chains it bogs me down and so I search for
other landscapes to bring me scraps of hope.


@jjote 02/17/2017

Solitude

All I say and all I do
looses nothing but
chaos upon my life

So I go to seek out
a place of solitude

A hideaway from all
of my pain and suffering

A place where maybe the
brokenness will mend

And dreams will come
and live again

mkt
2021

Premium Member Norman, Don't Be Bates

Halloween is very near,
Stealing is what brought me here,
Where I'm going I can't say,
I just had to get away.

Driving in the pouring rain,
Those that do, must be insane,
Looking for a hideaway,
To spend my holiday.

I've been good, but not that great,
Candy makes me put on weight,
Pumpkin pie and room for dates,
But Norman, don’t be Bates.

Shower time defeats the gloom,
Norman gets to pick the room,
Dreamers dream, of what is not,
But water, please be hot.

Suddenly, as in a flash,
I resemble corn beef hash,
As I fall, the music dies,
Just before, my spirit flies. 

Now my shower scene is through,
For my head and shoulders too,
Halloween is for my mates,
But Norman, don’t be Bates.

Though my crime was unconfessed,
Norman likes me for a guest,
Double wrongs, don't make a right,
Don't forget the light.

Though my life is not to be,
Murder loves a mystery,
Who was killed, and who was cuffed,
When Norman's mom was stuffed.

If you like to trick or treat,
Bate's Motel is on your street,
Monsters loom where Heaven waits,
But Norman, don't be Bates.

Norman Bates, it seems to me, 
You made shower history, 
Mother made you do the crime, 
Nice of you, to do the time.  

You exist, in memory,
Mother keeps you company,
Don't forget, the love she gave,
Each time, you rob, her grave.

Meditate, for inner peace, 
When you kill, upon release, 
We exist, in altered states, 
But Norman, don't be Bates.

Happy Place

Everyone needs a happy place
that can be used as a hideaway -
A place that when you go there,
you’ll definitely want to stay.

It can be an actual place
or a place in your mind –
It just needs to be for you,
a place that’s one of a kind.

When times get tough
and you’re close to your limit,
escape to this place
and hide right in it.

Leave reality behind
and push your worries aside -
It is a must for you 
to leave the real world outside.

This place must be, 
for you very safe -
a place where you
with yourself can touch base.

When you can’t get away
and leave reality,
at least find a space
where you can yourself be.

Once in your place,
relaxation is a must -
you need to unwind -
in that you can trust.

My happy place would 
around animals be -
only around animals
can I have serenity.

So make sure you know 
where your happy place resides -
you never know what
around the next corner lies.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace