Best Ached Poems
Where I am probing a tranquil night
I find you there in the depth of skies
Among shiny stars, my beloved sight,
Endearing as ever to gratified eyes.
You are my smile, my forever pride,
On journey of life, you are my guide,
You’re my treasure, you’re my rock,
In your footsteps, I endeavor to walk.
Oh! when I ached, how you too cried,
An affectionate presence by my side
Cheering every feat since I was a child,
With my happiness how you too smiled.
In tenebrous times, you were our light,
When we encountered stormy shore,
In face of danger you were the knight
While enduring gusty seasons of yore.
You tutored me on right from wrong,
Those blessings of verity I pass along
As your love brightens arc of my dawn
On halo eternal, though you are gone.
In albums of past my memories revive,
Cherish and thrive, as if you are alive,
For undying is love so angelic and true,
Rekindling bond anew, thinking of you.
May 3, 2022
Placed 1st: A Mother’s Love, Tributes Of Love
For Mother’s Day Poetry Contest
Sponsor: B J Legros Kelley
(For Dad ... I love you and miss you, and time doesn't help)
~
Of all the loved ones chosen for that final task that saints abhor,
I wouldn't head your list, I'm sure -
your eyes, then staring, empty ...
I sat beside your deathbed, lone, and counted each dry, rattled moan,
the hours ached for seeds, unsown -
with your eyes staring, empty ...
Why was I chosen for this fate that put your end upon my plate?
a blessing, dear, but FAR too late -
now that your eyes stare, empty ...
No more, your prince of ill demands I walked you God-ward, hand-in-hand,
there are no footprints in the sand -
just eyes still staring, empty ...
Soft lullabies, I sang you, tender, meant to quell a well-earned bender,
closeness stamped "Return To Sender" -
dear eyes just staring, empty ...
You squeezed my hand, then let it go, let one last breath out, long and slow,
though you had left us LONG ago -
with your eyes staring, empty ...
At night, I lay me down to sleep and pray the nightmares never creep,
still, what I find there, dark and deep -
are eyes still staring, empty ...
Your sparkling eyes ... now empty.
Image credit: Wikipedia
People amble by in view of the placid lake
Mesmerized by horizon adorning scarlet
While not far from the Oak tree, I stealthily lay
Enthralled in musical repertoire of Blue Jays
As squirrels run wild in a purposeful race
And searching for food woodpeckers peck.
Trust me when I say they are no friends--
One by one they devoured my mates
And now here I am, the only one left--
Thanks to the kid who curiously picked me
And threw me away in callous disdain
Landing in a pit just a few yards from the lake
Still within grace of the golden daybreak.
My endurance burned in hot summer days
And resilience ached in stormy, rainy haze
Till cooler nights met dewy vibrant dawns
As resplendent vistas autumn witnessed
And falling colors floated in evening breeze
Burying me in cloak of fiery-red leaves
For semblance of warmth in winter forlorn.
In misery of wet, cold my core utterly soaked
As I almost lost hope of sanguine heart echoes
Until aura of life the young spring invoked
When my roots formed, sprouting new growth
And slowly I up-rose in a delightful world
Marveling rising skies of ruby brushstrokes.
April 24, 2020
HM: Strand Pick H Contest
The last acorn poetry contest
Sponsor: John Lawless
The steep waning of duskfall held by one
Cuddled by a wheeze , the dim air’s pale light,
Nestling upon boughs of memoirs undone
As scenes rise mildly with an ached delight.
Although fall plunges into my own depth,
Giving way to chills of winter ,prolonged
So must spring blossom with a fragrant breath
For roam I must through peaks of Augusts’ song.
And musings dip upon the faltering wings
A blazed remembrance of seasons’ refrains;
Snuffed by love’s risk, hardened from cold warning
Oh time withers, breaks ...still I call your name.
Hearts evade pleas, sweet moments gone astray
That now I rest on a crib of old stars
But such is life allowing what is the way;
To gather new treasures...near or afar.
Judy Konos' C'est La Vie
11/5/2014
When I used to dream
I used to dream about him
Fantasizing about how it happened and how it could have been
Demons, chasing Nightmares, Happiness on Poles
Tied into a loveknot and dangled in front of me
No matter how I ran, how far, how fast
It seemed to sweetly Escape
Just when he was in my grasp
I tried it all
New haircuts
New styles
New boys
Sexy sexy skirts
With new pairs of heels
Filling holes with things that
Really don’t mean anything
Except to say
I’m doing just fine without you
Days go by,
Months slip away
Years appear on doorsteps like unwanted infantile
Infatuations
I beat my self up for loving
the way
He moved
Spoke, touched
Laughed, ached, cried
He could
Heal the burns on my fiery soul
He could handle
Dangerous curves
On roadways unknown
My first love
Today I no longer linger
On whispers in photographs
Or chain ball letters
I don’t chase after white sports cars
Or sink when I hear his name
I see him sometimes and I feel his stare
Sting me on the places it hits
I’m with my own
And his with his other
But just to let him know
It’s okay
I smile
and let go
Unraveling
This cord
of discord
Love is forever
No matter the occasion
I forgive, i forget
and let him live
Without me
I appreciate
His gift, wrapped with
detachment
For the benefit, of each other
He showed me with open eyes
That I did not need a man
For me
To love
Me
He gave
A bittersweet
Indescribable
Emotion. The Gift
Of Poetry.
Thank you…
I used to like barbells, enjoyed pumping iron,
my Nautilus* gym was one happy environ.
Those posters of 6-packs and marbled biceps
inspired me to start counting carbs, pounds, and reps.
My trainer would coax, "hold as long as you can!"
Doing deadlifts I felt like a WAS a dead man
The kettlebell, medicine ball - hated those,
since dropping 'em both on my poor little toes.
My dad-bod and willpower soon parted ways,
after only 1 set, I was shell-shocked for days
My back hurt, my knees ached, I'd injured my hips,
after grimacing nonstop, I'd sprained both my lips.
Oy! The sharp pain that shoots
through my quads, delts and glutes...
Now my game plan is shifting
no more power lifting.
To planks, it's "no thanks",
I'm expunging all lunging.
I feel stabs in my abs,
there's a hex on my pecs
and my lats shriek like bats.
When I tweak my oblique
I am sore to the core...
and I want it no more.
The rowing machine is no longer my scene
I loathe those squats lots and I hate crunches bunches.
Do sit-ups or push-ups? Do jump-ups or chin-ups?
I'm more inclined now to do lots of "I-give-ups".
My doc tried convincing me I'd be less tired?
I'm questioning how that poor man's brain is wired!
I felt half exhausted just WATCHING staff clean
the ellipticals, treadmills, and stair-climb machine.
Then... I found when I stood on the locker room scale
That my plan to lose weight was a sad epic fail!
I'm done! I have finished my very last burpee -
I just want a hot dog and super-size Slurpee.
What happened to wanting to feel fit and well?
When it came to workouts, I was just a dumbbell.
I've resolved now to walk more, or swim a few laps
maybe jog, ride my bike, play some tennis, take naps.
That's right, getting plenty of rest seems so plain,
it appears the most challenging muscle to train ...
is the brain.
* Nautilus is a brand of gym equipment
written 2 Oct 2022
Have you longed to give your heart just for the sake of giving?
Withheld for years, for pain and tears spark fear that steals from living
a full, enriched, and glorious life where joy outweighs the sorrow ~
one in which one yearns to live, believing in tomorrow.
And if you thought to finally give what’s ached to be set free,
to make a change, jumpstart your heart, within a moment be
everything you hoped for but could never quite conceive;
then, once again, encountered thieves who lie, cheat, and deceive...
Would you then quit, throw in the towel, no more to fight again;
or hold on tight, steadfast, and strong and pray that love will win?
Engaging in a battle as such may introduce defeat,
but walk away and casualties will knock you off your feet.
Consider this, if it is true that earth is heaven’s floor,
then love should rule ~ a truth transcribed upon each person’s core.
Could we succeed in loving self as much as we love others,
we just might heal and bear the strength to stand aside our brothers.
Then, we could all give from the heart with kindness and compassion
for fear will lose all reasoning when love becomes the fashion.
Chocolate Moose Girl
A Sunday brunch one day went me
when she I saw, at table three.
From my mind to forget, never nor maybe.
For on this radiant sunny Sunday afternoon
in the Botanical Garden, my favorite room
sat at a table, grandmother and she.
The walls lined in fragrant ferns of green
baroque blossom ladies in gilded frames seen.
Her simple beauty profile delicate cherry flourish tree.
Now this vision alone, fulfilled my eyesight hunger greatly
when added she did this simple act make.
To her pink full lips a taste took she.
When delicate and slow she lifted
her chocolate moose to mouth she gifted.
From the moose chocolate, I know previous take.
The finest ever no chief could bake,
Satisfying, soft coolness, still lingering in me.
A sublime sexual treat,
then look I did, toward her feet.
When out rolled her toes
from brocade slippers of gold, I see.
Her barefoot toes ached
to reveal her pleasure
with each spoon to lip,
delight, same measure.
My mind to forget, never nor maybe.
the gods …
awoke early that day
for the sun had swallowed the moon
and left a ragged, gaping wound in the sky …
it bled darkness like cold oil
threatening to stain
all that they had labored to create
not the least of which -
humankind -
had yet to suck a breath
or betray their common senses
but …
what of Byzantium, they pondered?
the horizon still ached for sails
but to weave an empty sky was doom
even for the regal bateaux of Valhalla -
‘breach the canopy’, they thought
sew the temporal seam with
threads of divine intent ...
net the stars like silver herring and
bind them to the gunwales, en masse -
grave the hulls on the cosmos
and set the sextant to unholy dreams ...
the day be damned
it would end nonetheless
and tomorrow would
still come ...
sail on!
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Standard Contest Number 145 Any Form" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
This poem did NOT place in the "A Contest About a Goddess or God - Not THE God" Poetry Contest.
On this October's mild stirrings
I watched ached nights flicker, to glow
Around his hair like angel wings
Recalling joyrides... so mellow.
That in hushed tones,I called Gramps' name
Enshrined within my youth's warm space...
My hands folded with love aflame,
While prayers spilled through chill's embrace.
Though failing heart quivered in ticks,
Faith...way back then when I was ten
Gripped, he was nearing sixty six
As prayers trailed,wafting amen.
Until spring came, Gramps' flare restored
With new life blessed from harbor's ward.
..........
Way Back Then When I Was Ten
Kelly Deschler's Contest
1/30/2016
----------------------
He was on my bench, so I asked, are you watching the ducks?
No, he said, I am watching the geese!
We both had a big laugh at that,
well they do look like ducks, I said.
I sat down beside him to have a good look,
not at the geese but at this man;
this park bench thieve, this impostor.
Oh, he was handsome with his dark hair,
and pale face, a contrast to the fall leaves;
we were quiet for a moment . . .
He was on my bench, so I asked, are you watching the ducks?
No, he said, I am watching the geese!
Then we started talking, talking and talking,
I told him I came to the park each day.
He was new to the city and asked me questions,
and being friendly, I offered to show him around.
I talked about my favorite places to go,
and he said lets go together;
he was easy to talk to and I liked him a lot,
we made plans to meet at the bench next day.
He was on my bench, so I asked, are you watching the ducks?
No, he said, I am watching the geese!
Many days after we met in the park,
we watched the leaves falling and collected a few;
the air smelled so sweet and I was falling,
falling in love with this beautiful man.
And I think he loved me too,
we liked to walk with the leaves crunching,
and even when the rain was coming down.
One day he bent down and kissed me.
He was on my bench, so I asked, are you watching the ducks?
No, he said, I am watching the geese!
We fell in love among the rust-colored trees,
and the leaf-strewn park and autumnal beauty.
My heart and soul ached for his arms,
and his breathtaking kisses fell on my lips.
Oh I was smitten and lost in the aura of love,
so when he bent on one knee and I asked me;
will you marry me, I was ablaze like those leaves.
Well, of course I said yes, yes, yes, my darling.
He was on my bench, so I asked him, are you watching the ducks?
No, he said, I am watching the geese!
______________________________
September 25, 2017
Verse/Autumn Is For Love
Copyright Protected, ID 944594
Written for the contest, Autumn Romance
sponsor, Julie Rodeheaver
First Place
Yesterday,
when conscious slept,
anger was my shield,
fear my faithful sword.
When hatred contaminated my heart,
tears ached for tranquillity,
polluted in guilt from selfish greed.
Life can be a disaster waiting to occur,
leaving you in despair gasping for air,
suffocating your sighs with crippling changes,
due to disorientation in imagining reality.
I've always been in an internal war,
fighting the two voices in my head.
You can't kill someone who died before birth,
so not every battle is worth fighting for,
yet I was always in envy of peace.
I want to disappear sometimes,
bid a secret farewell to the shadows that pursue,
but I'm afraid of diving into the unknown.
Maybe I'm an imposter,
maybe I'm just a Gemini
everyday, I am different,
a multitude of personalities,
a creative charming chameleon.
In times of fragility and frustration,
I wish I was a secret to society,
but I don't want to be alone tonight,
so I'm soul searching for a love unspoken,
not cursed with deafening screams.
In solitude, overthinking is a poison,
so I turn to unfulfilled prophecies -
to bring me back to life.
I've always had an aversion for perversion,
become a nemesis to prejudice.
Spirits taught me to 'be my own universe.'
to fly to the sky, wave ego goodbye,
so my flaws make me shine more.
There is no shame in vulnerability.
No embarrassment in slaying pride.
In the angst of anxiety,
paralyzed by self-possessed sadness,
I set out finding sincerity,
my coincidental half -
but you have always been inside me.
When I finally opened my eyes,
I felt alive.
Lust is a mute assassin,
a terminal sickness.
Love is like a fever,
it leaves you speechless.
I used to idolise silence,
but now I'm a slave to consciousness.
Oh my sentient soul,
we are unrhymed verses,
our lives a living rough draft.
Decorate me with your ink,
complete me with your conclusion,
as you are the music playing on loop.
Let them say we are mad as we dance,
lost in lyrics only we can hear.
Silk wading thru wistfully warm sea waters,
my dreaming fingers have lingered to potter
with ocean surface, sun sparkled glitters.
My poetic pieces have gone full twitter
in charmed waters of crystal clear rarity
where I felt God's love soothe life's severity.
Slowly easing into ocean powered waves,
my playful moods have seriously caved
from forceful, salt stinging, brutal wave smacks.
My body has ached sea bruised, blue and black.
Rough seas crudely taught me joy may survive
despite waves of fright that savagely arrive.
Now, reaching the end planks on my journey's pier
and viewing my twilight's approach so clear,
it's past sunshine glitters that most sustain
these concluding sea views for my earthly gain.
Yet, I know without crass waves that abused,
wading joys would not have peaked this enthused.
I lived ... once
I loved and laughed and ached from my marrow
I spoke my soul, and spun my mind to my innervation and impulse
Swam up spirits to the source of their dreams and passions
I moved and breathed and thrived
Slept and soared and savored the tang of carnality
Counted my chaos, and measured my occupations with desire
I danced with angels, dazzled and dark and unearthly
And I sang to the heavens in their wildest weeping
With a voice of callow intonation ... and melodious temper
ALL with a child's heart, and a saint's assumption
Yes, I lived ... once
Full and bright and joyous as a midday meadow
Yet, in the midst of a moment's suffering
A soft, stinging moment of false hope and agony
I pressed, tender, the lips of a curse ...
One deep, warm, melting kiss of a temptress
That turned to a coursing ... of poison
"You will write with such feeling," she whispered, eyes smiling
As the glass between us fogged with her bitter breath
A painted fingertip, shaped and pressed
Tracing my doom in the opaque mist
Oh, vile brutality - to gift me this insight and creativity
Only to shake it ALL from my grasp ...
And turn me ... to dust.
~ 10th Place ~ in the "Opaque" Poetry Contest, Anthony Slausin, Judge & Sponsor.
No Wait in Vain : Poets Meet
For decades I waited
and you did not come
to listen to my rude insertion
finger a sound at back of my throat
and the vibration of my name
For decades I wanted to meet
a small mountain as I read her
plain words in innocence
a bell in her Heart rang deep
with children running sweet
For decades I longed to touch
a struggling mottled moth
as he ached for new wings
smooth ebony cheeks
passionate with letters of adoration
For decades I watched for
a painter to mirror my songs
uncover a talkative witch who
still trampled from place to place
broken shoes echoing my silent breath
For decades I wanted a smooth ride
where conversation was free of tasks
words on both seats of equal length
with ripe apricots for the scoffing
almond chocolates wrapped in red
So I upped my thumb to a veteran one
who read from his leathered collection
notepads and pencils strewn about
space in warehouse oozed slivered glee
No wait in vain !