Best Accolade Poems

Fighting mid the strong and bold,
His eye and blade were keen;
Marching like a thund'ring storm
On foes of Faith, his queen.

Now returned in victory
Upon his mighty...

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There is the Christ
of a minister's coffer

a Christ of the theater's
show-time

a Christ bought and sold~
the merchant's patron saint

Then, there is the Christ of 
the heart...

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It’s sticky and it’s sweet
Limp but I’m sure I could get it to peek
I will linger on it and give you that sweet release
But all...

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Exuding purity, while honour bestowing
“Sampaguita” I am, my country’s national flower
Jasminum sambac --- such is my scientific name
beautifully functional with my fragrance
oozing through a branded...

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A mystic rose smile that belonged to my mother this is what I recall   

My easel and I resting in the spirit, ...

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When sucked into a novel,
What I think, as I glide through it,
Is how, oh how, I’d love to ask,
How did the author do it?

Creating all...

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I don’t have asbestos fingers and my blisters come from the garden
Toiling the soil and growing fine ingredients for such gourmet cuisine
Like ‘throw it all...

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Cottage dreams, wooden cabins and the scent of burning campfires 
Every July we would gather at Vince's cottage to see Santa in attire 
Into the...

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I am transgender, a soul untamed,
Seeking solace, my true self proclaimed.
In this journey, I've found my role,
Here's what I need to be made whole.

Acceptance, a...

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Boss Lady!  Boss Lady?  Whatever do you mean?  
Do you mean I’m hip, I’m fly, I’m stylish, what?  
Do I accept...

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The mind is a womb
Copulate it
Let the semen of reason
Part the legs of its cervix
And you will see
When moth struggles before its born
The power of...

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Look at me, I’m a 25 year trendy maker!
I feature a brand new me, at present!
Look at me, and Read through my transition,
I wear George...

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Huge hands extracted heavy red clay lumps
gleaned from Edgefield's argil soil,
placing it
upon the whirling wheel.
Fingers roughened,
he formed, shaped, with master skill
vessels fit --
massive stoneware pieces,...

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E ach pebbled path awaits the fall mum without momentum
L anguishing until the fall of foot brings them a pace.
A ll static objects seek the...

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1. MORNING HAS BROKEN 
The men, in lines, tramp two by two,
forgetting all the women who
indulged them through a night of tricks
(their lips designed with...

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