Best Abled Poems
*Image of Excitement Unlocked giphy by Escape Hunt.
Time
Life millstones pressures creation to sort
through essential time, balms the albatross
over seasonable means, paid in court.
A past fraught in qualm, trading ourselves short,
wills the clock face, hands smile--it sates the loss...
life millstones pressures creation to sort,
from the moment that stretches to distort,
spoke present to a fresh reference, toss
over seasonable means, paid in court.
Seconds, minutes, hours ticking by, assort
cleft role of abled spread twinklings as moss.
Life millstones pressures creation to sort
that infinite future's schedule, escort
zealous flashes duly, that run across
over seasonable means, paid in court.
Shapes an hourglass, together, we support
an eternal measured us, reach across.
Life millstones pressures creation to sort
over seasonable means, paid in court.
2020 June 30
*1st Place*
A Brian Strand you choose
~~Brian Strand: Judged 2021 August 12
*1st Place*
Time- 8 Word Challenge
~~Constance La France: Judged 2020 July 06
I sat under the grey shadow of the gloomy night
Raising the closed curtain of the darkest day's flight
My heart subdued the voice of my inner shrine
Wiping the droplets of tears that wet my chine
I sat dumb hiding my impotence under the downy pillow
Unable to forget your pinched face that shot a thousand bolts into the clear billow
Would you forgive me if I just said a simple sorry?
Would that perturbed darkness on your mother's face bring back my glory?
Who is to be cursed in the stillness of this direful dream?
Who is to be put at fault amidst the leftover cherries of the melting cream?
Is it the almighty for his inhuman act of snatching your ability?
Or
Is it me for driving you into the envelope of the shooting debility?
I cannot forgive my ownself for this act of mine
I'ld like to one day witness your smile enlightening the global shrine
Yeah!
Only that can give me peace
Washing away the broken pieces of my guilt
P.S. I wrote this poem as I felt broken when I couldn't convince the head of our institution from sending a child who was differently abled away from the school. He has become so close to me and he loved me so much. He was kept in the school just for one week and I used to take very good care of him. As the boy behaved differently from the rest of the children, he was sent out of the institution. I couldn't do anything about that as I was not the decision maker. I couldn't convince the management as well. No one was to be blamed there. It's the management's duty to think about the other children as well. That night I couldn't sleep and something pinched me from inside. I still am not able to forget the face of that child. He gave a deep look towards me that asked me a thousand questions for which I had no answer.
Inside of us
We all have our thoughts inside of our heads
And a heart that lies there beneath our breast
A pair of lungs so we breathe in and out
A tongue to talk with inside of our mouth.
We've a skeleton to keep us upright
Fingers abled to work, hold and to write
Arms flexible for to bend and to reach
Energy to put stride in legs and feet.
We've so many extraordinary things
The Lord God above thought of everything
The one thing we can put inside ourself
Is love and love is what makes all things well.
7th March 2021
'twas the night before any Christmas...
And all over our any town,
Lonely seniors tried so hard to forget,
What life was like in a land long ago.
When husbands or their wives were still living,
and the kids were all still home, very giving,
Today, that device called a phone,
Is not used even though they
are now even in cars?
And families send you photos of them in bars?
Or...places to impress we silly old elves!
"Why don't they leave us alone and get a life
for themselves."
So off they go, these abled bodied-beings,
Not even dreaming that perhaps one day,
they will be ancient and alone, too.
So, whether it's Christmas or just a plain day,
pick up any phone you own!
Say hello to the living,you cannot speak
to the dead!
What is wrong inside your head?
Don't think a text or email can ever replace
lovable you.
And as for our"busy" excuses?
I won't say what I call that.
What, are you...a conceited aristocrat?
Call your friend, cousin,grandmother,
grandfather,Mother or Dad.
Anyone that you care about.
If not, it tells me it's you....it's only
..whom you value.
These old folks in the twilight of their
years,
Must not be ignored, you never see
their silent tears.
Do people no longer care?
They miss being loved and respected,
And believe it or not,
A dog or a cat will not make it for them.
They need a human being,I ask...when?
These seniors are terrified to call you
at home or at work.
In a world that over glorified technology,
Where life has become one word
communication.
And there is no life on earth,
Except living in the Facebook Nation?
Worse, emojis are not cute,
Nor, what does it say about you?
And more horrid to me, when the initial of
your baptismal name becomes you?
It's sad..and as for automated replies?
Are you kidding?
An insult to humanity.
None of us is royalty.
Conceited, full of self, you bet.
I don't know where the life I knew
has gone.
I don't even know where love
has gone.
We all morphed into Alexa's?
I cannot give birth to the past.
Just talk to my walls and stare at
unwashed frying pans..alas!
PanagiotaRomios
4/26/2019
2:15 pm PST
Which nation of the world
Do I belong?
I belong to the nation
Of unity,
No transgression,
And freedom for all.
I belong to the nation
Of Equalities-
Equality between
Proletariat and aristocracy
Disabled and abled
Woman and man
Young and old
Black and colored
People and nation
Right and rule...
I belong to the nation of peace
Across the land, the sea and the sky.
And peaceful stretch to the arboreal.
And Peace of souls,
Of bodies
And minds.
My belonging
Is my strength-
The rhythm that keeps me growing.
Though I was born a Nigerian.
Not I neglects being call
American, Ghanaian, Portuguese
Chinese, Korean, Indian...
Though I'm by virtue
Of land mass
An African
Not do I dismiss
In unison unit
That type me Asian,
North American,
South American,
European,
Australian
And Antarctica.
I belong to
A nation,
A voice...
One country,
One world.
She entered my life upon happenstance.
I was unaware and naive.
No angels to carry my chin.
No raindrops to cleanse my emptiness.
"I am a landscaper without a garden.
Surely, you cannot help me?"
An unhesitant smile bewitched me.
I began to drown within the scent of her hair.
Her left eyelash softly brushed my cheek
rendering me captured and speechless.
"My name is Rain."
I paused. I silently swallowed.
Her simplistic beauty enveloped me.
Cerulean eyes. Crimson lips. Indigo lashes.
Our fingertips entwined and my being
was suffocated into the magical beating of her heart.
I bowed my head and stammered:
"I've never flown above canyons before."
"I usually sink into the bottom of an empty lake."
Rain kept silent. She spoke to me through her eyes.
Riding upon the wings of an ivory stallion, we glided.
A crystal ball of wonderment she bequeathed me.
She abled me to envision:
Memories from my past.
Hopes of my present.
Dreams for my future.
Our journey seemed like an eternity.
A carousel ride a child never wants to cease;
a mysterious enchantress I wanted to stay.
I didn't expect her exit.
The clouds swelled around her flowing silk cloak;
her wings of white. I remember now. I wanted to cry
as she drifted into the inviting dusk.
I thought I was sobbing but was mistaken.
I was basking in the memories,
hopes, dreams and
the promise of tomorrows
with the glorious teardrops of
my guardian angel.
"Rain...
whisper your sacred lullabyes and
fall upon me again.
Please, fall upon me
again."
Who Shall Save This World?
Who shall save this world?
Who shall bring peace in this world?
Who shall end up corruption among people?
Who shall find Treatment to various diseases in this world?
And also bring democracy and civilization to an end,
If this is civilization!
Everyone ask these questions
People are now glutton - their hands seem short.
They can’t stretch to the underprivileged,
Yes to the destitute.
So is there hope that those in street shall come home
Hope for maize meal to turn back to cob one day?
Faith for the bed riders to be horse riders one day
Hope for the disabled to be abled
The deaf to hear first the twittering of the birds,
Crippled to win cross-country race
Yes there is hope,
And there is redemption.
There is only one Man, who is going to bring peace in this World,
There will be neither left nor right during his reign
So brothers and sisters let us put our hope unto Christ as to be saved tomorrow
My Hope is unto Jesus
(To a brother, he gives his biryhday celebration to be with the less fortunate kids. He is a hand of this nation)
Love ain't an illy feeling healed but a commuted commitment
Care and fair ain't a lay pay job but a heart learnt art of passion
At a young age yearned long to hand a hand to them
Yours heart pained, drenched with love for the kids
Drunk in intense integrity intimately intending to help
Shunned of your pleasure and leisure to raise and strike a ray
Left all comforts and some-pots to lightly knight a heart
Humbled like an infant faced firm no fear
Hope and trust, trained tranquility to you
Them tummied, armied and dummied grace a day in Green Land
You, humbled, abled, labeled and favoured grace it in Green Card
Not to fill yours abdomen and **** cavity like they
But a ground to grace and ace a life and file a future
Want no fine wine, no 'kay cake
But see, think as I ink his list of least needs for feeds
For he humbles to offer it for free to them
Them,some not known of a day like it
For only him present in their presence
Its him OMONDI FRANCIS.
As he elevates and celebrates a great day
Pimps and teams the kids with joy
Frees and fills their day with love
Invites and incites us all to join
Lets support and sup up his passion
Born a boy but who serves a nation
For as a country we conquered Like a society we sort
Happy Birthday bro.
Opalescent the heavy moon glows low,
Rhapsodizing in pale light, winding
Gauzy haze about gnarled branches.
Apples gleam red where moonbeams steal,
Nectaring night breezes in perfumed scent.
Innocence illumined, for creatures kneel
Commending praise beneath the trees.
Fabled branches, heavy with fruit,
Rustle leaves tinting toward gold and
Umbrella the still sanctuary cradled between old roots.
Invocation of gratitude to the Creator--
The orchard transcends to a cathedral,
Sanctifying a new year’s harvest, pure and clean.
Copyright, August 15, 2016
Faye Lanham Gibson
Page 2
The Shoot Out At The KOA Corral
The continuing saga of Zack Waverly
The mare was to far gone
and I had to put her down
There was nothing I could do
To help her make her back to town
When things have come to this
Life seems barely worth a trifle
As the only mercies' left
comes from what's inside a rifle
I saddled up and rode due west
Not to my destination
But, took a little detour
To make an allegation
On a hill top, I approached
As the Sun hung at mid-day
and I saw a man, with whip in hand
strike a Dapple Gray
My poor horse, was exhausted
But I guess he some how knew
He reared up on his two hind legs
Then down the hill flew
I've learn to hold on tight
When Ole Buck gets inspired
I swear, His eyes turn black as coal
While his nostrils fill with fire
He raced to make a beeline
To where the horse was being beat
Then stopped outside the wooden fence
In the mid-day summer heat
"Jonah, stop it now"
Is what I shouted from my horse
"Don't make me come and make you
'Cause you know I can of course"
Jonah wasn't tall but a strong and abled man
and so I pulled my Walker Colt
and watched the whip drop, from his hand
HeeeeYahaaa, Partners Keep your Posse out lookin' for page 3
And a pair of those little feet were stepping
Cheerfully, treading each period which was carrying her somewhere nowhere
A fragmented laughter echoed from all angles hailed her name
For she is the apple of her father's eyes...
She grew with everything
As if born with beautiful wings, which not only adorned her body
But abled to carry her flew away to heaven that was made for her...
For she was the angel of her mother's heart....
Petite figure stood on a naivete ...
The dream world slowly manipulates, toying her, risking her
A trust betrayed finally ...
And that scourge became the first stain of her life ...
Those little feet have now taken their big steps
A girl has grown into a lady
By rising from the rubble of brittleness
Let the kisses of the past remain there and dwell
For the broken wings of her last
For the fear and frighten which had past
For the big steps of her sane
For the pain and stain which finally end for her gain
He rides his wheelchair like a racing car
The rainbow colours blending into one
He grins his infectious grin, his wide mouth
welcoming and warm
He stutters, his sentences an intricate mess of
words that won't come the way he wants them to
And Tourette is not HIS name, but all the same
it makes him a wondrous one to view.
He doesn't understand most jokes, so serious!
But laughs uncontrollably at his own pun
So fun! But one must love his beautiful hair
His green eyes, and everliving optimism
I know him well, from the inside out, so proud
is he. Remember well! This does not define
the him he is, I live with him day in, day out
Because you see? I do not notice disability.
For me he is as normal as can be, for I am he
I live with me, and disability, and poetry.
***
4th Place in Contest: In a relationship with a dis-ABLED person - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: W. Thomas Markham
I am a widowed woman of significant age.
Not unable to keep house, cook or bathe a child,
no dancing for me those days seem over,
but, yet - I can paint a picture or go fishing,
with the best of them.
I am strong yet vincible, not young,
but abled.
I am a widowed woman of significant age.
lithe athletic limbs
churning up the cinder track
paralympics next
~25 Jun 2016~
I am in a relationship . . .
I live with my dis-ability and me
To look you would not guess
It is a secret I keep very well
When I told my boyfriend, Henri
He could not get away fast enough
And why not, a handsome guy like him
With a blind girl, that is too much
So he left me and ran away
And I am doing just fine, Henri
But there are some problems
I can no longer read small print
On bottles, cans and containers
My friends are so protective
Thanks to friends who help me
And I also cannot go out at night
Unless someone is there to guide me
Because all I see at night are shadows
I use a magnifying glass to read
I zoom my computer and television
One evening I forgot to turn on the lights
But I did not realize the difference (really)
I will never move anything out of place
Oh often I have misplaced my glasses
At dance class I stay close up front
So I can see the instructor . . .
I can still write my poetry thankfully
And when I cannot friends will help
For the words are in my mind
And that will never ever change
I am memorizing things like trees
Skies, flowers, sunrises, sunsets
And waves crashing, rain, snow
My friends faces and my cats too
There is no surgery to help me
No magic pill to make it better
So this is it- this is my destiny I suppose
Not the one I planned but one given . . .
I ask God why but there is silence
So I will make the best of it
___________________________
October 16, 2016
Free Verse
For the contest, In A Relationship With A Dis-Abled Person
Sponsor, W. Thomas Markham
First Place