Best Accurately Poems


Poetry For Poets: I Own This- Edition

Well hopefully you've read the last "Poetry for Poets", now here's the one I wanted to write, enjoy...

POETRY FOR POETS 
(I own this- edition)

Poems
more organic than fertilizer
rooted in the **** of life
manure

Some grow wild
seeking their light
through a gnarled thicket
of images
and symbolism.
Ill watered
or sprayed with chemical defoliants
they strangle themselves,
few
managing to blossom.

Manicured
Poems thoughtfully precisely planted
to achieve optimum yield
banquet

			though occasionally
		poems require		to be forged
	beaten into shape
like a horse shoe
with a few holes
	accurately placed
		ensuring they		will be nailed
			to their purpose

Pruned
dead words and metaphors 
selectively snipped away
stunning display

There are times when it’s best to live with your poetry
Cover yourself with its words until they stretch and become sloppery
For its comfort increases as the stanzas begin to fray
Patched elbows illuminating what you intend to say
And eventually you’ll have a poem to slip into by the fire
To savour with hot chocolate as it ignites your desire

Poems
more organic than fertilizer
flourish when tendered
with love

Premium Member My Dreams

Every dream that anyone ever has is theirs alone and they never manage to share it. And they never manage to remember it either. Not truly or accurately. Not as it was. Our memories and our vocabularies aren't up to the job. ~Alex Garland

My 

dreams are

stories from

which I sometimes

wake; the characters

and fascinating plot

fresh inside my mind.  Wishing

to capture one with words, I trace

it, only to have it fall apart. . . 

for - after all - my stories are just dreams.


Aug. 10, 2019 
Writing Challenge 1, August 2019 - Just Write - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Dear Heart

I Am a Sagittarian Woman

I am a Sagittarian Woman


Born in the ninth sign of the zodiac, I am
a woman forged from primordial fire, a proud Sagittarian.
With Jupiter, king of the heavens, as my ruling planet, 
I embrace the good life and enjoy every scintillating sunset.
Optimistic personality funny, fiery, and bold,
I’ve visited many faraway places around the world.
Adventurer is my second name,
and I’m the one who won’t be tamed.
Vivacious, energetic, defiant, and free,
you can join the hunt but you’ll never cage me.

Beguiling mystical minx - half beast, half woman,
a Sagittarian woman can effortlessly captivate any man,
and just as adeptly slay a fire-spitting dragon.
An amazing archer aiming accurately for distant stars,
she can strut her stuff like an incredible female centaur.
Knowledge, truth, and social justice seeker,
she advocates for and defends those who are weaker.
Ever strong, loving, loyal, and generous,
pay homage to wise women with integrity, women you can trust - 
women born under the fire sign of Sagittarius!

07-09-2014


Contest:      Women Only #2 (07-14-2015)
Sponsor:     Kelly Deschler
Placement:  3rd

Contest:      Poem with a Theme - Zodiac Sign (08-23-2014)
Sponsor:     Galeo DS
Placement:  1st


Premium Member A True Friend

Friendships come and friendships go
Some may fail, some may grow
But some are cherished from the start
But honesty and loyalty has to come from the heart
Friends are forever and forever are friends
They are thick and thin till the end
A true friend comes along only once in a while
There always there especially through all your trauma and trials
I'll be by your side evermore
That is what friends are for
Do not forget your friends at all
For they pick you up when you fall
True friends never say good-bye
Honesty is the best policy so there’s no need to lie
The worth of true friends is to be treasured
Their worth cannot be accurately measured

Friends... they cherish one another's hopes. They are kind to one another's dreams. 
Henry David Thoreau

So long as the memory of certain beloved friends lives in my heart, I shall say that life is good. 
Helen Keller

A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity.
Proverbs 17:17

A Merry Band of Adventurers Part 1 of 2

There Are A Thousand Treasures Of Kings
Worth More, Than All The Wealth, There Could Be !
Some Say, It’s In A Kingdom Of Dreams
Others Say, It’s As Real As You & Me

The Legend Says, There’s A Kingdom Of Love
In A Kingdom, Far Away & Above
Kings-Treasures, To Be Claimed By The Best
Those Worthy Of Courage, To Quest

& So, This Is Where I’ll Start, My Friend,
Tho’, This Isn’t Where The Real Tale Begins
You See, There Was A Merry Band Of Adventurers
Who Went On A Quest, As Treasure-Gatherers

There Was Moses, The Freedom-Circle-Rider
Stayed His Course, Like An Eagle-Glider
There Was Goff, The Monk Of Sky and Trees
His Visions Of Life, Were As Open As Doors With Keys

There Was Kendricks, The Keeper Of ‘Interesting’ Tracks
& Marty, Of The Hale & Hearty & Power-Pen Pack
There Was Adell of Deep Wells  … & Dio, The Devoted
& Dame Brown Of Mountain-Ground, So Sweetly-Noted

There Was An Irish Lass, O’Leary Of Laughter
& The Golden Daughter Of Grace & Audrey Of Gifted-Banter
& Devonshire, The Dove &  Highlander Of Heather-Cove
Of First To Join Search:  For Soup & Treasure-Trove

Of Course, We Have A Prince Of Passion Land
& Ismael, A  Dream-Merchant From His Own Island
The Prince, Paints Of Pleasures; The Islander Speaks of Treasures
Both Know Of Biggest Royal Cache That We Could Ever Measure !

There Came Tim, The Archer Of The Wit-Forest
& A Determined Mother with Son, The Lady Doris
Maid Adams, Who Teaches How To Keep Cold Away
& The Lightning-Voice Of Linda Marie, Keeps Wolves At-Bay

There Is Sir Lamoureu of Sir Lancelot's Order
He Wields Words In Articulate Axes & Armor
And To Those Who Dare Say Chivalry Is Dead ...
Is Because -The Sonnets of Sir Lamoureu, They Have Not Read
& The Legendary Language That  Sir Lamoureu Pledge

Then There's Lady Linda, A Chatelaine & A Poet Destroyer
But  She Only Versus The Verses of The Vanity Voyeurers
Her Skill With Quill Accurately Quite Accords
As Proof of Pens Being Mightier Than Swords

We Have A Pretty Elf Known As Anne Lise Andresen
Her Piquant Topics of Poetry Makes Her Our Taliesin
And We Have Our Very Own Kind Maid Merryman
She Transports Adventures Better Than A Ferryman

Part 1  of  2

Share Love and Light With a Vibrant Energy

I have just reached the end of the school year
giving my last lesson to the last group, as it were
Unlike before, not quite content with what has been done
on whom would I put the blame in the long run?!
Apart from the human factor, we have Covid-nineteen
and under my wings students at the age of a teen
To teach a youth, you need understanding.. patience and time
how would I make it, as students study part-time?!
Day on, day off.. that’s the school year for them so far
how to ensure the development of the learners’ repertoire?!
Hard I strived to hide the leak of confusion on my face
as it was puzzling to recognize my students with a mask on each face!
I spare you the trouble of an everyday struggle with every task
as my students and I are sweating under a suffocating mask!
Just envision me teaching the phonetic symbols and every problem sound
without accurately mouthing utterances and hearing a clear sound!
“Group 1 or 2?” Would you please your teacher remind?
that’s of paramount importance than any other task assigned!
A quick look at my notebook to check what is written down
so that I would be in the know after each two-week lockdown!
To God’s countless blessings I am grateful so much
though guilty with the feeling of not being able to do much
Still facing the dangers of the pandemic and its many a wave
and need not just get Covid-19 vaccine but also be brave
Possess a valiant heart, share Love and Light with a vibrant energy
have faith in God, in human nature beauty and in the “call of poetry”!


June 10th, 2021
Besma

I join my friend and fellow great poet, Poetic Flame, in his inspiring Poet's Call! 

https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/covid_toll_and_poets_call_1362448


Lies of Perfection

in the night, he reaches, my body responds, aching to be near 
yet the mind screams, pulls back inside its deep recesses
familiar pain rears, sits nonchalantly, laughing, taunting me 
is it I who am loved or am I just involved in the act of love 
the end justifying the means, a single moment, a brief interlude 
conveniently remembered and enacted, how can one truly tell? 

I opened my heart and yet I know, I'm not what he was looking for
the knowledge leaves me cold and saddened, ice forming around my core 
rejection, inferiority, second best, all words that accurately describe 
yet leave no telltale signs of the great pain that they have inflicted 
reality and yet my hands roam freely his body as I welcome him inside 
to lie buried deep within my being, my heart beating furiously

the sheer joy of being loved blocking out the fear, feeding on hope 
even if his emotions are not real, every fibre of my being yearns 
to one day capture all his love, to see it expressed in his eyes 
to silently carve my essence indelibly upon his heart,
to feel it in his smiles warmth, as his eyes adore each curve  
the knowledge that says you are mine and I will love you always 

everyone wants perfection, those that know that they are not 
nor ever will be the one, suffer from the lies of perfection 
so here I lie, accepting the very little that is being offered 
praying to someday find more, existing in that in between world 
between shadow and light, where nothing is clear, everything is shaded
needing to be perfection to someone, as I breathe deeply with eyes drifting into 
my dreams, helplessly staring across the bed of my future

Mother You Are

"I only wish that these words could accurately paint your picture"

                                    Mother you are the description of beauty
                                             You’re the definition of love.
                           You are a precious gift sent from the heavens above.
                              You are mountain peaks of picture-perfect peace
                                 You are grand valleys of valiance and virtue.
               With a presence so breathtaking, that lilies bow in awe before you.
                                    Mother you are graceful rivers of belief
                                             and refined streams of hope
                      You are fabulous fountains of fidelity that so freely overflow
                                   You are the sun’s radiance of courage.
                       Your inner light gleams brighter than all the stars in the sky
                     A sublime sparkle of strength and devotion is found in my eyes.
                          You are my strong tower; you’re my sanctuary of faith
         Mother you are a temple of wisdom, and in your heart I’ve found my refuge,
                                                     My serene safe place

Chiquita Chiamaka Baity 


Contest : 'Mother' 
Sponsor: Constance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~

Killing My Other Me

I'm contemplating killing my other me,
The one who fronts for the five figure manager at Ruby Tuesday for a job,
Struggling to tie loose ends, so my ends don't meet.
Strangers they are, Me and I, I and Me,
And there is a sharp turn ahead, 
So I can't see our future.
Contemplating offing that sucka!
An actor, he can accurately depict whatever you want him to,
A puppet for a crowd full of the wealthy and snobby,
And I, the weak minded puppeteer of financial slavery?
Broke brotha representa?
Am real.
Seriously contemplating killing my other me,
I mean getting him good for all the eggshells he left in the batter,
There's no way I'm getting cake!
I mean the ladies would dig I,
Maybe even marry a brotha, but me?
This dude falls back and plays chill for no reason,
While the girls are just teasing, begging me please come see!
He tries to wait, and play it smart, but the game ends before he begins...
I'm contemplating killing my other me,
He has no purpose, no drive, stuck on the side of life's highway with his hazards on,
Dormant, while my friends pass by,
I have no clue where I'm going, 
But I sit in the passenger seat while this fool puts nowhere in the GPS,
Stressed because I am me and he seems confident in us...
I trust the untrustworthy with my most valued possession,
Life.
So death should come to me...
And it will when i sense the urge to kill, 
But for now...
I'm just contemplating killing my other me.

Most Profane Act

Love
Love is but a word
To describe such an emotion
in a four-letter word
is the most profane act any human can commit.
Love is Love.
it cannot be defined by four measly letters.
Love is more than art,
more than literature,
you cannot fully describe it.
It is a unique experience,
yet anyone who has every been madly in-love
knows exactly how it feels
Yet, they too know that "love" is not an accurate analysis of that emotion
Love is beauty,
Love is peace,
Love is happiness,
Love is Joy,
Love is all around us, really, if we choose to see it.
Love is more than a four-letter word.
And I wish, there was a way, to accurately describe,
the intense, beautiful emotions, 
of being madly in-love.

But I find myself,
committing the most profane act
a human could do,
In me hoping to convey to you,
what I think of you.

I love you.







For the love of my life, Dj.

Ambivalent

I’m both painfully shy, and brazenly bold.
The push & pull of opposing natures
that form my existence.

Living my life between the lines
Cold and factual yet scattered and emotion charged,
Faltering, yet ever steady;
loyal even when in full run.

Shuttering with precision,
accurately ambiguous,
softly roaring.

A cynical romantic,
a speechless poet,
practicing an artless art.

Inside and outside I quiver in an instant.

How Can I?

How am I supposed to find the words,
That will tell you how I feel?
How am I supposed to accurately express,
My emotions that are real?
How am I supposed to react,
When you go away for good?
How am I supposed to go on,
Living my life the way I should?

How can you expect me to forget,
These wonderful times we've shared?
How can you expect me to act,
Like I've never even cared?
How can you expect me not to believe,
That you don't have deep feelings for me?
How can you expect me not to love,
When our love is clear to see?

Premium Member My Beautimous Man

Dedicated to My Timothy Lee
I love you and it has been said, 'love is blind.'
My beautimous man is my favorite visual treat.
Times staring at him are times I often repeat.

His blond tendrils hang down, outside his do-rag,
and are curls my fingers just have to twirl and grab.

Fierce, piercing blue eyes allow his gaze to melt me,
happens all the time and never do I ever mind.

The rich pay surgeons for cheekbones my man has.
My knuckles sometimes trace each bones span.

He has such a good-looking nose, not big or small,
it’s a nose I frequently kiss on my tip toes.

Perfect lips motivate my own to seek his kiss.
They aren't thick or thin, but ideal sized bliss.

I’m mesmerized by his labor rustled arm muscles
that grow a need for my cheeks to muscle nuzzle.

My beautimous man said my vision needs to be checked
because no features of his do my eyes accurately detect.
He said his curls do hang down, but no hair is on his crown.
He took me to a mirror to see lines under his eyes clearer,
said his cheekbones are no longer sensual but skeletal,
his nose now nostril hair grows and rudely hair shows,
plus, his muscles have aged and are now sad sag designed.

I asked what word bits would he now hurl about his lips -
he pulled me close and said, ‘only kisses are on my lip script.’

Troubadour

Expose faster
your songs from limbo
of your soul and exposes
your bosom...!
Do it list and with tenderness...
May you sing them beautifully
and grace...!
cast them accurately
on your beloved balcony,
at the counter of your intended...
Do it with maximum promptness
and grace, because you're at risk
that she listens to the songs
of love from another
further agile troubadour... and
  be enchanted...!

Never Be a Follower

never be a follower 
of others but instead 
by a follower of your 
own heart´s desires 
creating your own rules 
for personal success 
never allowing others to 
diminish your self worth 
only you can judge you 
accurately no one else can 
no one else knows you the way 
that you know yourself

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace