Best Aced Poems
A cord had been stretched, from our hearts to the moon
across foolish years, to a life far beyond
It coiled around a chair, down the hall, past the door,
that were groomed by the light of a bright afternoon
I was floating on the sea of cold hardwood
Prone on my back, on a lavender rug
Examining the nail of my left-hand thumb
with a phone at my ear, and faith in the unknown
You had aced your exams, now we were making our plans,
only tied to a kiss, by a small ivory phone
With a ring on my finger, that would bind foolish hearts,
that were blinded by love, without worry or fear
Invitations were mailed, a church was on hold
There was a cake made to order, and a world unexplored
You were glued to my ear, I was wrapped by a thread
that tugged on my heart by a long-distance word
The light from the yard was scored by the blinds
but, there on the floor, our world was sublime
I was bound by a cord that tethered all time
To a life yet to live, but together we'd find
I was linked to your voice, by a young foolish heart
While I sailed on a sea to a lavender star
____________________________
Submitted to "My Foolish Heart" contest: Feb-2021
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
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Neil Armstrong shot off to the moon
Strapped into a cosmic cocoon.
He came to renown
When one foot went down
Ahead of poor Buzz -what a boon!
But as they returned to home base,
Buzz had a big smile on his face.
For there on the sea
Of tranquility
He'd aced the first 'selfie' in space!
21/08/18
celebrity limerick contest entry
Sponsored by: Tania Kitchin
So many things I want to tell you my Dad
But I choke up in tears feeling awfully sad,
I grew-up so fast since the day you died
Pledging urgently to do well as tears dried.
Don't recall listening to anything you said
Never took trash out, never made my bed,
You asked me to study, keep up my grades
Instead I focused on video games I played.
To earn my badges, we went on scouting trips
Soon after, I stopped going to their meetings.
You will be proud Dad, now I have some clout
I honored your will becoming an Eagle Scout.
Remember the day when we played baseball
You stole second base ahead of my fast ball.
Recalling happy times with love and might
We miss you so much at dinner every night.
I have aced my grades in science and math
Well on my way to choosing a career path,
I'm proud to tell you Stanford accepted me
On a full scholarship I'll complete my degree.
I was so self absorbed, always feeling mad
I never told you how much I love you Dad.
I wish to be just like you, but can never be
Standards you set are so high to achieve.
I have taken a job to help Mom pay the bills
We watch every penny avoiding the thrills.
Mom will visit you soon, she's well as can be
Please let her know you're so proud of me!
Placed 2nd
September 16, 2017
Poems that paint a picture 2
Rhyme:aabb
Painting by: Mike Theuer
Sponsor: Silent One
Type casting Pirates of Penzance
Lining up those who’ll sing and dance
Some aced the illusion
Others beyond delusion
Laughing so hard I wet my pants
AP: 3rd place 2020, Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on April 8, 2019 for contest PIRATE THEMED LIMERICK sponsored by TANIA KITCHIN - RANKED 4TH
Die on your feet or live on your knees
Live as slave or die bold and free
Ringing that bell of liberty
Through thorns and thistles
Bomb blasts and war whistles
Floods of fire start to sprinkle and sizzle
Taking a stand or even walking alone
Every Goliath has a stone
Stumbling blocks turn into stepping stones
Conquering the crooked and dividing the spoils
Monsters of madness turned into blood and bones
Every Goliath has a stone
Facing our fears with a force called faith
Shooting the devil straight in his face
Mice turn into men and jokers get aced
Taking new lands with righteous revival
No time for rehearsals
No time for recitals
Victory is vital
Every heart should have a home
Every Goliath has a stone
My '90 Dodge Daytona sat
Broken down
On Horseblock Road.
We hitchhiked east
To Kelly’s induction,
Embarrassingly tardy.
The trucks were leaving
Ashes were spreading
And 16 people stood
Broken down
Outside the service.
Sean, Laura and I approached.
We made 19
Peers in formal wear
Feuding for space
Between 2 cars. Packed with living friends,
We found our way back home.
Sean’s flag stood through his window,
Guiding and mediating,
So nowadays I try to reason with atheists.
I’ll never forget returning to my Dodge.
It started and drove without a flaw,
And I felt like I had aced a test.
I get a kick outta the writes I see,
So intellectual, how can that be?
I skipped two grades,
Was forced to take IQ tests again,
Cause no one as dumb as me,
Could possibly produce such a score, you see
Got 100% on regents exams,
Passed college entrance tests
Half drunk and dirty of dress
Cause I was up with friends
drinkin' and carousing like the rest,
And, Lord knows how, but I assure,
I aced the test, and even more,
To what was then considered
"The Poor-Man's Harvard"
I cruised through that as well,
No one was gona stop this Bell
But IQ tests, and scholastic grade,
Never has one, of a man be made
I still do get confused,
About how to wear two shoes,
My brain may be book-smart,
But comin' from the heart,
I've trusted when I really shouldn't
Was skeptical when imprudent
So here's this IQ wiz,
Don't know just who he is,
And street smart as a cat,
Caught in Dr. Zeuss's hat.
So teach your children well,
don't grow up to be like Tom Bell
Soaked in sapphire tears of forlorn flowers,
emanating hues of cinnamon light.
Perhaps, the healing herbs of harvest hours;
tender tendrils and the soft rose twilight~
evoke splitting truth through veiled, somber beams.
My love, this ink still curates magic's glow~
beneath the blazing stems of dahlia dreams,
engrossed in apricot embers that flow,
rippling with runes of russet memories.
Follow me to Persephone's verdant field,
as the moon twirls within brown reveries,
laced in pomegranate promises sealed,
lost in the grape green orchard of Hades' glance,
still breathing lilacs in a lustrous trance.
When you left me in mild mid-summer twilight
I heard you say you’d return on a silvery night
Through the dust of full moon of spring when
Hues would flush the first rose of my garden.
Beyond the blue haze of bright night’s beguiled
And ardent ambience I saw you disappear while
The rush of thoughts swept my mind with tense
Expectations shrouded by a nebulous suspense
Defined by the design of my dreams I’d dreamed.
Bereft of the zest my loveless languished time lone
Raced on pensive plateau with changing seasons.
Early in spring in the sapling of rose I’d planted
A bud unfurled pink petals to bloom enchanted.
Till the full moon shined on my first rose I waited
Holding fragile heart at the edge with bated breath.
August 25, 2019
Title chosen : With Bated Breath
Contest : Pick A Title, Vol 8-Acrostic
Sponsor : Edward Ibeh
June 5, 2020
Contest : Brian's Select 5
Sponsor : Brian Strand
On this landmark an image stands...
statue of a man.
Man of honor and talent,
admiration of any man.
Born with great love for country
Died with one heart of chivalry.
Studied in different schools,
aced all subjects in drools.
A man gifted with excellence.
Shared great works in pickets,
Cured many patients without wickets.
A man of great stature,
No man may be able to equalize.
A man of great sorrow,
Sacrificed himself for tomorrow.
Fellowmen freed to visualize.
So much more can be said
About a man of enviable skills
Young and old have all laid
Heroism of a small man...
Bigger, higher than hills.
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Disclaimer: The first poem is purely the work of fiction. Everyone who knows the lovely Vie knows how beautiful and amazing she is. But, as most of you know, I ‘go for it’ when it comes to contests…so here we have it.
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*You asked for it girlie :)
Whackjob
Vienna…
I have to say you’re a freak
Your poems are all in Greek
Your life is one train wreck
I’d never accept your check
Do you even have two brain cells?
Your breath probably smells
You’d sell your body for a buck
But who would screw a cold duck?
So whackjob…don’t forget to bark
Crawling home to the trailer park
Talented, Beautiful Viking
Vie, you are so amazingly skilled
After reading your work, I’m thrilled
You really brighten my day
You’re like a banana parfait
With cherries and whip cream
And two shots of Jim Beam
No you’re better than that
Pretty as a Persian cat
Sweet, agile and striking
Like a sophisticated Viking
Bonus lines (not included in contest ‘cuz this girl follows the rules)
****************
And I’m sure, this poem I aced
‘cuz Vie, you have great taste :)
Copper blooms, titanium too below the iron of the sky
Rich fields of ore, quarried, lay everywhere without a quarrel
In conjunction with all things shiny on the land and rust of day
Mountains pinnacles are miles high
With gold draped cliffs of drifting yellow beads of brass
Green vegetation grows around them to quell their worries
Reaching to be free from electricity, thermal conductivity
Streams that run along the fields of metal valley mines
Gray with aluminum strands soft and solvent
Punctuate the landscape up above
Anodizing, analyzing, thinking they are zinc
So much of zinc below the solid surface riches
All this to be discerned by proper science expeditions
Metal machines gather what they need to feed their kind
Golden days, silver nights, tongues of tungsten
Wrap themselves around themselves for warmth
Metalloids are not yet born or forged
Malleable to shaping when they come
Some nonmetallic friends stop by to see the young
Marble and silicon are spies
Disclosed, exposed as such
Despised, disposed of for their corrosive side and lies
Platinum dressed in blue arrives
Stays to take a smoke or two
Smoldering in a blistering sun
Smelted, furn-aced for the future
To be tempered into something smooth
To contemplate the truth with other alloys
Query how all metals can be used
How Earth can hold itself together with the ores
Both in the ground and in the metal fields outside
To lay aside barren lands their souls in sun for warmth
Metal-tate a way to feel the force
They carry on and need no water
Of course rocks are most jagged and driest on mountain tops
They yield the finest metals, minerals at their pinnacles up there
And where suns furnace first glowed on
Touched the tip of Earth
Up there still, refines, defines the metal fields
9/22/14 Pinnacle - Poetry Contest
My friend had a Christmas gift
He wanted to give me;
He shushed it was a secret
And I couldn't see.
It's awful not knowing
What a present is:
It's like getting stuck
In a cryptogrammic quiz.
He laughed
When I begged for a hint,
With an evil snicker
At my hapless predicament.
But as I steamed,
I looked about:
A light snow was falling,
And it was so very peaceful out.
The year had its struggles,
We nearly lost the place,
But that sudden promotion
Put me at a more amiable pace.
Janell gave me an awful scare
When she found a lump on her breast;
We prayed pretty hard,
But she aced every test.
Sadie and Jeff
Gave a grandchild last spring:
The sweetest, dark-haired girl
That life could bring.
I felt a little misty
As I stood there,
But he hadn't told me about the gift
And it just wasn't fair!
I thought of the fancy paper,
And I saw my grandbaby stand;
I thought of the lacy ribbon,
And I felt my wife's hand.
Something was happening to me,
I couldn't tell,
But it dawned
As clear as a bell.
There were gifts
That I had gotten,
Not in boxes and paper,
How could I have forgotten?
Saving our home
Was a gift, indeed,
And my wife's health,
What more did I need?
The grandbaby, in my arms,
Made me feel alive;
You know, I heard angels
Right there in the drive.
I wanted a gift,
But what gifts I'd received;
"Merry Christmas," my friend grinned,
"Now do you believe?"
I gulp a flame of desire
At the sight of your ecclesiastical attire
Being proxy for a pacifier
That elicits a comfort for my quagmire
Your smile, your smile
A sun in a darkened profile
A moon that illuminates the eventide.
Oh lily of the while
You let your movement twist my writing style
And your utterances, parch my bile
Your cheek,
Comely and with a perfect sleek
It brings forth my devotion like to a holy week
My arteries gape and tweak...
When your eyes greet my eyes in streak
And I feel your eyes can unbend an oblique
When you call my name, l inhale peace
Right from the direction of your sheen anatomical masterpiece.
It flows into my centrepiece
And makes me say "how I need this! "
This aura of hightened affection
Induces my heart's rhythm section
My pulse beats to the sequence of your rock n' roll session
Your complexion,
Makes me want to have no objection
To any of your imperfection
But to uphold your perfection
Your entirety is graced
Euphoric and grippingly fun-aced
Your pulchritude is emphatically embraced
And your probity, well showcased
Appeals to my aftertaste
Once have you spoken, twice have I heard
Like you stole the password
Securing my ghost word
From where I will fangle your byword
Please don't make it your watchword
Rather let us build on the foreword
Since there was no stone to close Jesus’ death tomb
According to modern Christian myth, it had vanished,
But as of the Gospel version of this story, boom,
In Luke 24:2 the stone was rolled away - astonished?
Matthew 28 verses 1 to 6 tell us squarely, no tact,
That an angel appeared to the two women, the Mary’s,
To the next of kin in Jesus’ life, mum and partner, fact,
Which defers upon these two people the quandaries.
Jesus had caused such a kerfuffle amongst professionals,
In the medical scene he’d had an important remark,
That the poor should also receive treatment, nationals,
Did it in public even, brought medicine out of the dark.
So the continuation of this new strand of medicine,
Had to be engineered, and the two Mary’s saw that,
So, I detect, they told a lie about the internment scene,
Because they suggest strength by angels having hat.
When you do exercises too much or strain excessively,
You can see an angel if you believe in them, reflection,
So I deduce that Mary and Mary moved the stone actively,
And cremated his body without guilt or hesitation.
A lie can often hint the original truth, when you tell one,
And so the real story can be deduced, concluded, traced,
And the Gospel states that the stone was set aside, tonne,
Not disappeared implying god had resurrected and aced.
Extreme fundamentalist parents tell their kids smugly,
That the stone had vanished without explanation,
But you can see clearly that Christianity was born really,
From the two Mary’s and the gardener’s cremation.