Best Accordance Poems
"In my fragile little ship, I sail, sail
In the tempestuous sea of life
Dodging life's pressures, to doldrums outlast"~ by poet
Breathing in and out the notes of life,
from first cry to last sigh, you sing
you sing.... unbeknownst
unbeknownst to you as to
what tunes and notes of life
you will be singing..
but you keep singing... taking cues
taking cues from the
rhythm of the twirl of time.
As you warble to the ticking of time
sometimes...
a melody is created
and the moment becomes lovely -
when your hum is harmonious to
the rhythm, tempo, and dynamics of life.
Listening to that melody - so sweet,
buds of love and peace bloom straightaway
in vibrant colours
to savour and celebrate
the beautiful moment:
a moment as beautiful
as the sweet smile of a child
and as peaceful as the
stillness of a meditation hall.
At times, your voice cracks
you sing outside the range
hitting the wrong note...
and.........oh........
you slip down the stairs
the last step extending down to
the hassles and hard times of life...
like a banana peel
in an already slippery road,
like a dust in the eye
that blurs your vision,
like that of a Wordle game
that leaves you totally clueless.
Such wrong notes
in your song of life
leave you in dismay
like a torn page in a book:
you get dejected, dispirited, and disheartened
and a confused state of mind follows.
But you know you should not stop
you need to ignore the wrong note you struck
not a wince, blink or a pause..
you have to just move
on and on...
and get your mojo back
to continue carolling
the rest of your notes of life
in accordance to the
rhythm of time...
Date: 02/24/2022
'F' form - Free verse - New - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Theme Chosen: Life
First Place
Poem Of The Day on 02/24/2022
If you were mine...
If you were mine…our footsteps would
dance on moonlit verandas
while candle lit shimmers enticed my smiled reflections
with your arms tightly around me
symphonies would play to the rhythm of your charm
as we swayed in the essence of forever
on cloud soft concertos of affection’s melodic whispers
eternal echoes would sing in harmony to your eyes,
hauntingly dark invitations to my endless destination,
soothing seductions comforting weathered longings
If you were mine…satin beaches would
eclipse tan line passions
beneath glistening waves of aquamarine salt water bliss
gently caressing the depth of our love
palm leaf shadows would weave embracing patterns
of ocean fed breezes tickling our naked forms
as sea foam fingers probe pearl smooth valleys
sunset tides would tease beneath star orchid heavens
blooming of every wished for fantasy…
lasting happily ever after upon sandcastles dreams
If you were mine…my world would
be a mosaic of delirious euphoric visions
in constant creative motion delivering sincerely
every ounce of joy your heart could desire
each sunrise would be the sweet essence of your spirit
vibrant in wonders of colorful poetic offerings
versed in accordance with your every need
happiness would begin with promises kept
as we walked along endless streams of hand held blessings,
two hearts loving as one forevermore
If you were mine…oh, if you were mine
Good night Soupers
The fear
In here ..
The chair
"Don't care "..
Sore gum
Lip numb..
" MUST DRILL
THEN FILL " ..
" Less speed
I'll bleed " ..
Preserve
Your nerve ..
"I've bled"
Jaw dead ..
" RINSE PLEASE"
Weak knees ..
The bill
Plus pill ..
Can't eat
No teeth ..
Unchewed
Soft food ..
Can't talk
Slow walk
Perchance
Soiled pants ?..
Mistake
Toothache !!.....
footle-note ..
The author would like to confirm that no deaths occured , during the creation of this piece. All
suffering was kept to a minimum,as the surgery was sound-proofed .Pain and suffering ,
caused to waiting patients , was due to being forced to read 3yr old mags. Seemingly the
news was less dire back then.All enamel&blood stained swabs were dumped in the
appropriate utensils,as per Geneva Convention(section ix, site xxxiv).The cleansing of soiled
underwear took place ,under supervision, with enviroment friendly detrgents & all offending
materials disposed of , in accordance with the KyotoAgreement(section mlx11).
Must dash !! , as I have to visit that other sadist, the vet ,with our cat.He is due for the snips!
( the cat , not the vet ).. Here Tom..Pshhhwshhh ..
1.
Uninvited you come, oh Erato*, you muse of poetry, the
Majority of the times,
Knocking at my soul’s door at any given moment
Insisting on letting you in, your message to deliver
Disregarding at what state my soul is and if she could
With your request, comply
2.
Oh, Muse of poetry, when with my soul’s inspiration
You are flirting all the time
Whispering in her ears words of wisdom, coming
From your divine essence
My soul, mesmerized, tries the words of wisdom,
Lingering in her depths, again to remember**
3.
A difficult task it is; indeed, I admit,
For the language of heavens that my soul, once
Knew very well, now she has forgotten**
Because of her association with her mortal body
For that reason, oh divine muse,
Be patient with her and give her just
A little more time
4.
The time that my soul needs, divine muse, to learn
Or rather to remember
How to talk and to express herself in writing the way
You would like:
In accordance with the universe’s harmony and
Its eternal laws
5.
When this blessed hour comes, my soul able
Would be, poems to compose
But
Her writings, her creations, and her poetic epics,
The work of you would be, oh muse,
No credit would, my soul, claim
For
She knows very well that only an instrument she is,
Oh muse, into your godly embrace,
Just to be used according to your desire
Because only you, oh muse of poetry, know
How
The universe’s poetic language should be used
And how, in verse, it has to be
Delivered!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
30 SEPTEMBER 2014
* Erato, one of the nine daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne (memory ).
She is the Muse of lyric poetry, love poetry, and marriage songs.
** Socrates, Greek philosopher 469-399, believed that the soul knows the truth but because of her association with the body, after her incarnation, she forgets therefore what we call learning is, in reality, a process of remembering as it is indicated also by the name of Erato’s mother, Mnemosyne, (memory).
A poet should always follow Erato’s instructions that come in the form of inspiration, in order to reach the desired result. This is because Erato’s knowledge is unadulterated for it is divine!
Heavenly Father,
Thank You for the many blessings that You have bestowed upon me, especially the affection for music and for the abundant joy that it has brought me throughout all the years of my life.
May this musical offering be pleasing to You and may it make Your heart glad, for it is with tender love and simple adoration that I now give back to You that which You have so graciously given to me to begin with.
May I never take this blessing nor any of Your blessings for granted or in any way think that I had anything to do with the possession of them, for it is only by Your good pleasure that I have any talent or ability to realize the desires of my heart at all.
I acknowledge that I am simply the vessel through which You have allowed these melodies to flow and it is my utmost desire to use them now in praise, worship, and thanksgiving to You.
May those who would hear this music be blessed.
May these notes strike a chord that resonates down into the deepest parts of their souls.
May the Holy Spirit orchestrate, manifest, and cultivate in them a burning desire to know You if they don’t already, and if they do, to know You better.
I humbly ask that You would coordinate my spirit, soul, and body so as to be in perfect harmony; that You would guide my hands to faithfully execute and deliver this composition of gratitude and appreciation, and that through them You would be honored and glorified.
In assurance of faith, unwavering, in accordance with Your will and by the power of the Holy Spirit, I ask these things in and through Jesus’ name, Amen.
the truth never told me a lie; if one writes a thousand poems one has a thousand poems written; everyone sees the sky as blue; Chicken Little is the only one the poet knows to see the sky as falling, therefore, the poet can imagine what it must be like to wonder if the sky will fall on her too. Oh, and by the way it can happen because of you know that law (No, not Murphy's Law ((gotcha)) ), Godel's law. Well, time for a dictionary hey?! And even funnier, the poet doesn't have any screws loosw since the nuts and bolts of the poet are adjusted quite well anyways. Well, scrap that concept, the poet doesn't actually exist except for in some macabre, abstract, poetic, humanistic, peaceful way that for sure will cease within the next one hundred years. Therefore, the poet so shall choose to be the Biggest frickin', flippin' "Dreamer Be" in such a Divine sense as to ponder all things and mark the poet's fingerprints on life in sizzlin' accordance with the poet's law which is as follows: "Skip your mundane penchant for life and live a new existence-- exchange a size small life for a ginormous size dream life!" Skip to the beats with fervid heat. Off my soap box now, the poet puts her words into action-- Lights, Action, Creation. Dreamer Girl gives way to her Big Heart!
She was gooey like maple syrup
& marshmallow s'mores,
stronger than a mountain lion
protecting her cubs,
wore prescription rose-tinted
sunglasses with GPS,
she'd been around long enough
to see through most of the
negative flimflam and ambiquity,
was agile enough to laugh at
her own cheeky caricature,
wouldn't put up with the travesty
'neath debauchery's cunning
still, she wondered as most do,
what was to become of a world
so engrossed in the overthrow
& disparaging mockery of others
she bade her time waiting to grow
older and wiser in hopes
she'd be around long enough
to experience a sunrise view
in universal accordance
before her own last sunset
ultimately bites the dust,
burning in all-inclusive ashes
When often thinking of times past
In accordance to her own place
She recalled a heart broken young woman
With longing her pain to erase
Guys grow fond of her demeanor
Going so far as to follow her around
Yet without a doubt she controls her heart
And departs them safe and sound
She never strays from her values and ways
From actions she continues to refrain
And when boys spend time in her company
For her, it is merely to entertain
Childish ways once embedded naturally
Inside her innocent mind
Have soon dissipated into the land of dreams
And reality she’s come to find
So many times she’s feared the day
When one young soul she shall meet
He’ll speak foreign truth she’s never heard
And sweep her off her feet
Hesitant to become transparent
She often hid her anticipation
And did so well for the initial encounters
Although with great frustration
No one seemed to understand her like this one
For in such a short amount of time
She questioned what her motives were
As her affection seemed to climb
Attempts to stray from him failed miserably
And in fact seemed to attract her more so
Each departure she vowed was the last
Yet her endearment continued to grow
Left in a quandary
She allows him to speak his peace
She soon understands his wishes for them
Are from each other to release
Now, rational a thinker she may be
She desires his wishes as well
But something leads her to believe
They both know this attempt will fail
She’s scared to read too much into this
In fear that feelings are unrequited
For only God can deem what’s to be true
And who shall be united
So, idly she and her soul await
For sign of returned desire
Yet, until that day she will attempt no more
And to her chambers simply retire
A Yellow Swallowtail Butterfly lands
Upon Purple Wild Petunia's blossom
Sipped a drink of nectar, flew; life unplanned
Soon the sunny morn turns into eve; clouds come
Thunder and lightning off in distance sound
Cool air floats, peace overtakes, all succumb
Morning brings solid clouds, will these confound
Like the cloud that filled the Holy Temple
All that Holy area did surround
A cloud that lead Israel's children gentle
All the way from Egypt to Canaan land
His appearing will be transcendental
A Yellow Swallowtail Butterfly leaves
His soon coming to this my spirit cleaves
Finis'...
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Contest: Terza Rima Sonnet Contest
Transcendental means here not in accordance with nature
If you were mine…
If you were mine…our footsteps would
dance on moonlit verandas while
candle light flickers enchant my heartbeat
when your arms wrap tightly around me
become symphonies played to the rhythm of your smile
as we sway in the essence of forever
on cloud soft concertos of affection’s melodic whispers
create eternal echoes singing in harmony with your eyes,
hauntingly dark invitations to my endless destination,
soothing reflections comforting weathered longings
If you were mine…satin beaches would
eclipse tan line passions
beneath glistening waves of aquamarine salt water bliss
gently caressing the depth of our love
entice palm leaf shadows of cooling design weaving embracing patterns
of ocean fed breezes tickling our naked forms
as sea foam fingers probe pearl smooth valleys
glow in sunset tides teasing below star orchid heavens
blooming of every wished for fantasy…
lasting happily ever after upon sandcastles dreams
If you were mine…my life would be
a mosaic of delirious euphoric visions
in constant creative motion delivering sincerely
every ounce of joy your heart could desire
painted in the sweet aroma of everything that is your spirit
vibrant in wonders of fragrant poetic offerings
versed in accordance with your every need
worth living, believing that happiness can begin with a smile
shared along endless streams of cherish blessings,
completely satisfied and forevermore yours
If you were mine…oh, if you were mine
Good night Soupers
"Family love, hugs, smiles, laughter and acceptance of togetherness within a home, precious moments made. Quote_by Poet"
The sunlight streams though the stain glass window
dappled rainbow hues upon the floor, dust
specks dance on beams of light in the shadow.
A tipped deep breath blown; then fades in trust.
Children run down the stairs ever robust
songs of merry and dance full of games play.
Hide 'n' seek, gay dog and cat chase all day.
After dinner family play charades.
Stepping' up, rock 'n' roll, afterwards pray.
Somber dappled gray shades as daylight fades.
2/6/2022
D Forms - Dizain- Poetry Contest 1. dappled
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Using Poetry Soup Syllable Counter
The dizain will be comprised of a single 10-line stanza which includes 10 syllables in every line and is written in accordance with this rhyme scheme: ababbccdcd.
Dark hair blowing
In the winds of hot desire
And dark eyes glowing
Like two diamonds filled with fire.
Dancing to the rhythms;
Well into the night;
Nothing taken most was given
Rocking on till all’s right
Was it accordance?
Or maybe a prelude who’s to know;
But it was certainly fully loaded;
Dangerously speedy but comfortably slow.
Cocktails at the penthouse;
Lights down low
Cat tails swishing
Nothing left to show
Gradually the crystalizing dawn -- more hardened
Than folded steel --- more sharper than
The blade that cuts!
Wisps of thin vapour, once loitering insidiously
At the steps of each staunch door,
Swirling away -- seemingly almost alive!
Coiling and uncoiling. Has all the litheness of a
Dancing girls weightless silken ribbon.
Until, retreating back, high, into some lofty,
Inaccessible mountain...
Dissipates as if just abandoned dragons breath.
The trees and streams are no longer so solemn.
Circling over the temple, above the brittle lands
Frosted chill, red-beaked choughs noisily engaged
In agitated clattering...
But now the temple bells are commanding those
Monks to prayer.
The blind and withered monk, who sits alone
In his unassuming corner, reminds us:-
"An emperor who abuses his power unsettles the
Equilibrium of the whole nation, the workings of
Nature,
And the livelihood of all people;
His responsibility is to maintain harmony in
Himself and the empire...
By acting in accordance with Confucian principles".
It is for them to contemplate what we cannot
Comprehend:-
We are peasants and it is not expected of us
To understand such wise things; nor should we.
We understand the fish and their ways, and the
Ways of the Blue River...
Just as monks understand our gracious lord Buddha.
Rouses the sun. Slowly lifts an enormous sky.
Glistening hoarfrost spun from bramble to
Bush -- strung from bough to branch like
Giant spider web;
Stiffened grasses that so pleasingly crunch
Underfoot;
And from these grasses, droplets of moisture
Ready to be released like slow weeping tears;
They will join with and sweeten the vibrant
Spring waters -- clearer than quartz --
That stream in tripping rivulets over yellow rocks
To splash from shallow cup to pouring pool...
Once you have tasted these waters you would
Have little more need of wine.
Wine is for idle men, or for our warring masters
To drink when celebrating great victory;
What use have we of intoxicating wine?
It is better kept as an offering...
Lest the river Gods grow angry and
Spoil our catch.
God gave Moses instructions never forgotten
'write down these words' this Moses did
words that would change Moses life
now His name would never be hid
God announced His own covenant
made with Isreal a people He chose
and with Moses His leader to be
who would be God's weapon over His foes
40 days and 40 nights Moses spent
there with His Lord for so long
not any food or anything to drink
but his Lord's presence was his song
From this point, God gave to Moses
His ten commandments to spread abroad
this HIs law that would show their sin
obedience to it would escape God's rod
At this point, man clearly needed a saviour
only God could be that special one
His son Jesus would fill this role
dying for our sin God's will be done!
("Then the Lord said to Moses, "Write down these words, for in accordance with them I have made a covenant with you and with Israel." So Moses stayed there with the Lord for forty days and forty nights, without eating any food or drinking any water, and he wrote on the tablets the words of the covenant, the ten commandments.)
Exodus 34: 27-28
Fantasy star of my heart dance with me tonight
share your gown of light and take me to the moon
Drive me to the plains of my sweet imagination
where anything is possible, if I believe...
Luminary radiant beams guide me to your even glow
partner me with Angels while I slumber deep
Return me, to the hammock of heaven and rock me gently
until the morning dawn arrives
Spun gold reveries of peace, love, unity
you frolic in my soul wanting nothing more
then to live in accordance with God's masterplan.
Everyone made welcome here, all is right as rain.