Best About Poems
My life is like that of a commonplace horse
that stays where they’ve put her all day;
she lives very much like the others, of course,
accepting her fate, eating hay!
At times she is plowing ( for work is her lot);
at other times, giving a ride
to those who reward her with a smile. . . or not!
But seemingly, she’s satisfied.
For like many others, who graze in the field,
She’s needed and loved; she gets by.
Though life is not bad, to routine she must yield,
but her mind - which can’t rest - wants to fly!
You see, I’ve a soul not that of this mare.
I look through the fence and I see
pastures much greener, and far away there
are places much sweeter for me. . .
I see myself frolicking in quietude
where the world has a rainbow hue.
With fanciful musings my mind is imbued
and the roses I’m sniffing are blue!
I’m gentle, romantic, yet wild and carefree,
and my coat is a glistening white.
Liltingly, I move like poetry.
And my essence is pure delight.
Yes, over that fence, I so want to go -
where creative thought is born;
where lyrical words with euphony flow,
for I am a unicorn!
For Greg Barden's 'The Poet's Own' Poetry Contest
Ekphrasis on Album Cover Art – 3-28-25
Jericho Road – Written, sung, recorded by poet
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thinking About Jericho Road
A road with no name, where earth births stillborn stones,
Snakes through stillness
Into a fading perspective that neither winks nor smiles
Not touching impotent palms of bleached fronds,
Colored in the scent of cold ashes,
To whisper a chorus of mystery
To saints and sinner
In shades of hard steel
And colors of monotony on this threadbare path.
Blank road devoid of thought,
A monorhyme of barren greys and dust
Without imagination,
Makes no covenants with curses or blessings
Kings or pilgrims
Or with the fragile flower
Changeless except to remain
One moment held by time, that knows each name,
Without a star, only an invitation for resurrection.
-Dear, Mr & Mrs Poet-
Do you ever question where it comes from?
This poem's about you, sit down and get a load off
Tranquilize your pen, take heed to the ecstatic applause
The things in life we take for granting, in time get worse
From WHICH' our lives transverse, ascends a deep poetic curse
You write almost everything, rehearsing every living verse
Embezzling words, like Martha Stewart, ---NOT YOURS!
Withdrawing from your substance,
--yielding it to others, who aren't devoted lovers
Spacing your lines, ready for reader's digest,
Educating the mind, like Albert Einstein
You paint a different horizon for the color blind,
Drop a note, forecasting the news, that brings, Spring to mind
Your adrenaline, leaves people with a feel good faint.
At this level, Poet you're better than high speed Internet,
Anything that makes you feel this is the real deal,
Today, you write like there's no tomorrow, borrowing yesterday's clay
Inspiring ink, left to right, feeding the need to breed a poetic degree
Your dramatic dialogue, deserve 'The Peoples Choice award."
I love the sweet audio, when you lowercase every word
It's done so well, hell, let's never capitalize another word
Reaching a point across, when capitalizing every letter,
This is your world, take it, manipulate it, with the perfect stanza
Produce it like a poetic film, imagery, action, CUT it like Jerry Bruckheimer
One day Hollywood will incite a roll, looking for the best poetry soup rhymer
Your tears and affection, you pour on partial paper,
Showing every word you want to enunciate
A SHOULDER-- gone cold, drowning, forgetting the normal way
Writing about the pure religion that meets your light,
A beautiful flower under the moonlight
Hear the bells, Poe wrote about, adding sprinkles to the twinkle in your eyes,
A redolent scent not meant to be forgotten, from Eden's garden
Taking nature, by course, granting her a crown, before slamming us down
I will call her out --The evil and the fury of a goddess, a beast
This is my feast, I welcome you to my jungle, and the outer bounds of time.
If you ever question where it comes from?
Sit down and get a load off, listen---Where's the ecstatic applause?
I'm not afraid to say, -----I'm Proud to be A Poet Without A Cause
by;PD
I do it for fun
toriawase –
split by a caesura
a rose and her scent
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Bestowed with femininity,
wisdom, elegance, and grace,
exemplifying dignity,
daughter of the human race.
X chromosome integrity
ordains attributes endowed,
according by propensity,
a nature kind and proud.
Beauty and vitality
anoint her noble gender,
magnum opus artistry
imparts celestial splendor.
Her marvelous complexity
gives complementary disposition
to valiant masculinity
for a perfect coalition.
Exquisite physiology
yields licentious pleasure due
the wanton sensuality
of erotic pas de deux.
Magnificent hologyny,
woman becomes by thy behest,
sacred vessel of posterity,
with honor ever blessed.
How About This for Veterans Day
A monthly Monday morning military meeting
Would be great for them as way of greeting
Talking about things happening another day
Of past successes and prices they had to pay.
Enlisted Term of Service (ETS) had expired
Veterans honorably left service or retired
And here a home they all have selected
Exist in society again and highly respected.
Should show them what they mean to us
Give them this one day a month to discuss
And talk about old times gone by and past
That in their many minds will last and last.
May have survived or died across an ocean
Have priest do a one day a month devotion
Who is of sound mine, body and good health
Even retired veteran with knowledge a wealth.
A 0700 meeting on 3d Monday of each month
would be a great way to show how much we
appreciate them like all. I am preparing this poem
out of respect for those to be recognized on this
great Veterans Recognition Day. My dad was killed
in an accident on the Aircraft Carrier Intrepid CNA-11
now in New York Harbor. This makes me a War
Orphan and I am also a retired veteran myself.
James Thomas Horn
Retire Veteran and Poet
RiverSea Plantation
Bolivia, NC
Now published at tankajournal.com
Inspired by Chris'tanka contest ~Now, for the contest :)
I would like to talk about "nothing"
It is a most peculiar word
I have heard it used so often
The way it's used is often absurd
I'm told there's "nothing" to worry about
Yet I worry about "nothing" for days
I try to stop worrying about "nothing"
and why "nothing" inside my head ever stays
There isn't another word for "nothing"
With "nothing" only "nothing" can compare
When a woman speaks about all her clothing
How is it possible she has "nothing" to wear
When she tells me I'm "nothing" short of amazing
What in the world does that "nothing" mean
If that "nothing" is really something
If I look will that "nothing" be seen
We are told that everything comes from "nothing"
A "nothing" theory that lacks evidence
A Big Bang and a boom from a "nothing"
If an explosion is something
Is that why "nothing" makes sense
So if "nothing" in the end becomes "something
Then "nothing" is "nothing" at all
Just a word that causes confusion
"nothing" can be big or quite small
If "nothing" can separate us from God's love
Please keep "nothing" away from me
For if I settle for "nothing"
It will separate me from eternity
So you can see why "nothing" is a problem
I am "nothing" if I can't be me
"Nothing" in the end is perplexing
For "nothing" is a mystery!
Looking out into the setting sun
Bright orange and brilliant red hues
Mind drifting off in the distance
All I think about is you
Each day we are getting closer
but you are so far away
My heartbeat is getting stronger
As I think about you
I need your love to hold me up
When life comes crashing down
Make sense out of everything
When all seems lost
You seem true
Looking out in the setting sun
Flickers of hope I see
Foreseeing just you and me
In each and every dream
My heart is calling you home
Come slip inside my room
Lay your head upon my pillow
Waiting, wishing, wondering
All I think about is you
you don’t know what you’re doing to me
how i feel when you come near me
happens to me
you don’t know what happens to me
right next to me
when you're standing right next to me
take me
all of me
you on me
taste me
i'm always me
when your with me
your scent is me
your touch fills me
you live inside me
you are the best me
so please trust me
always be with me
i couldn't go back to the old me
i couldn't stand you not loving me!
Maurice Yvonne
11~28~2014
Introduction: Our real problem is, "Will we ever be able to learn who our true,
real self really is?" Being true to and with ourselves is that thing which is the
most important in the makeup of our whole mental mind as well as balance.
The suicide death of Robin Williams and a comment about living behind a
mask made by an Isle of Man beauty have served as the inspiration for writing
this poem.
Our True, Real Self
It may change time to time and is in constant flight,
And of the fact, we should never, ever lose sight
That God is true and for us His huge help is here;
Believe in and always know He is close ad near.
Many times God, myself, I so often will ask:
" Why am I wearing and behind a mental mask?"
Trying to hide true self and me that You made,
Who often loved so simply to sit in the shade.
My life is over and done which was much fun;
I am a memory for my fans who won't forget me
And free at last in heaven, a far better place to be;
Where again someday, you can laugh along with me.
James Thomas Horn
173 Shadowood Court SE
Bolivia, NC 28422
1-910-754-3034
Email address: jthorn5656@gmail.com
www.poetrysoup.com Poem of the Day
for August 16, 2014
Seconds lost on questioning,
why time's not left to chance?
Each moment is everlasting,
fate's no relentless circumstance.
We act as if time can be saved,
how pointless to believe.
Never has one debt been paid
from hours or days received.
A lifetime is a leaf of yesterday
with no relevance to tomorrow.
Reliving doubts will just betray
all claims once paid with sorrow.
There is no time for one to slay
with so many aspirations left in play.
Grit in her eyes beaming fortitude of vibes
Powers her dash from one end to the other
Handing out drinks: brandy, whiskey, beer;
Serving high rollers and surly poor-souls
Where lights are flashing as machines jingle
When luck adjudicates winners and losers.
Watch her essence of fiery determination
Fueling her steps, gathering her strength,
As she churns numbers quickly in her head:
Grocery, rent, money for mother’s meds;
And some she’ll spare for her father today.
Hurriedly she sprints when her shift ends
Examining faces torn by ills, unwell, hapless
Under the bridge, by the train station,
Recalling childhood’s happier days within
Sound of his soft voice, calling her princess.
Abruptly she freezes, recollecting the scene,
Standing like a milestone on edge of the street,
Lips quivering, eyes tearing, pausing to forgive him
For abandoning them in a reckless charade
When suddenly a child became a parent…
So much about living she has learned since,
But not much about how to bury the dead.
May 11, 2020
HM: Brian's Select 8 Contest
I want to talk to you about something
Well, l actually have a little gossip l know to be true
About certain letters in the alphabet
Please don’t share with another….its just between me and you!
Did you know that the letter U has quite the reputation
Creating unrest amongst other letters
Popular and loved by some
Disliked by many though as U is quite the go-getter
So lets start with the letter W
V and X’s next door neighbour
I do believe “W” is in love with “U”
Due to her natural beauty and confident nature
W is completely besotted with U
And as W’s adoration for U grew
A single U was no longer enough
So one U became two….known as W
Next…is Y who stands opened armed
Between the very disliked X and Z
Y is so very unhappy there
X and Z being the two most unpopular letters… it is said
‘Why oh why’, yells Y
‘Am l stuck between these two’
‘I desperately want to move within this alphabet
‘Beside the desirable and beautiful U’
Now, what l am about to share with you is of the most sensitive nature
It is in regard to the letter Q
Q frankly has some deep seeded issues
When it comes to the letter U
Q suffers with separation anxiety
Is fully dependent on U
Q is unable to function at all
Without the reliable U in view
U sits dutifully next to Q
So Q can function and thrive
Q will live a fulfilled alphabet life
As long as U stays with Q…..Q will survive
U feels trapped by the relationship with Q
As U loves another… it is true
U’s heart belongs solely and completely to F
Both desperate to marry and be known as F.U
Where hills lay barren, and bedrock’s stripped bare
let me take you away to county Clare
Huge cliffs climb sheer, dwarfing waves underneath
atop the Burren my heart skips a beat
With nothing to see, apart from the view
all makes perfect sense, rain comes right on cue
And whatever I feel, it’s in the air
desolation yes, but without a care
Where fields seed pebbles, and pastures reap stones
through Clare’s vast rawness, I trek on my own
A whitewashed lighthouse, beckons away
scouring heavy seas, beneath clouds of grey
Gulls are crying, as they happily do
rising and falling, going nowhere too
Still makes me wonder, where I’d rather be
than here by Clare’s dolmens in reverie
Later I take in, what nature left out
my pipe, tobacco, and bottle of stout
Hms