Best And So Poems
And so it begins
The game of life
The dominos of love
Falling where they may
The timer activated
Fresh out of a box
Learning the rules
As we go along
No plan or ruse
No rhyme or reason
Just out for some fun
Moving game pieces
Taking turns
At winning and losing
Rising and falling
In endless succession
An ebb and flow of emotions
The tears the laughter
Riding a roller coaster
Of highs and lows
A detonated cosmic launch
Mingling interstellar orbs
Crisscrossing arcs of destiny
In a waltz of muses
Or divine intervention
Read on air by invitation ~ September 8, 2021 'WORDS & MUSIC'
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on January 2, 2019 for contest FREE VERSE STYLE ONLY sponsored by EMILE PINET - RANKED 5TH
And so it is…
When the trees don’t speak, barely a whisper in the wind,
Wet petals stuck motionless to the ground as if pinned
When there is no language to read in the sky,
Even with all the clouds passing by
And so it is…
When a bird must show you what is wrong
Bellowing out its loud bird song
Yet, to be grateful for…
After all, we cannot ask for more
When something isn’t heard, something else will replace it
When something isn’t seen, there’s all the more pieces to see fit
And so it is….
I hear, I hear, I see and feel for you
Everlasting feelings from my soul, reel with every view
And what I miss along the way
Does not matter in my heart today
tomorrow, or yesterday….
And so it is…
Heidi Sands
6/17/21
Placed among multiple 1st placements in All Yours (Jun17) Poetry Contest.
One day when I was walking
inside a wood alone,
admiring the autumn trees,
I found a big flat stone.
It beckoned me to sit awhile -
and so I wrote a poem.
Another time while driving,
in a mighty storm I feared,
rain pounded down, but later on
a rainbow then appeared.
With gratitude, I hurried home,
and so I wrote a poem.
A boy I once thought loved me
to whom I bared my soul
rejected me most cruelly.
When heartache took its toll,
I needed to release my grief,
and so I wrote a poem.
Another boy that loved me true
brought happiness to me.
And others – friends and kin of mine:
each made a memory
I wanted to preserve in ink,
and so I wrote a poem.
Some social issues boil my blood
and things I find absurd
can put me in saracastic mode
and craving to be heard.
I wanted to convey my thoughts,
and so I wrote a poem.
Oct. 11, 2020 for the "And So I Wrote A Poem" Contest of John Lawless
I stopped my car on the highway,
To watch the soft fading sun falling;
The end of another azure sky blue day.
A golden sunset is like a beautiful painting,
I knew in that moment that my God was creating;
His paint brush swirling to send gold and yellow drifting.
_________________________
August 3, 2015
Poetry/Rhyme/Sunsets are Painted by God, and So
Copyright Protected, ID 15- 697-028-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, The Answer,
sponsor, Skat
Fifth Place
________________________
Poem of the Day - August 5, 2015
Time To Ponder This World And So Much More
Within dreams that this soul truly adores
Where mountain ridges highlight bright sun's glow
Green valleys below, lakes with sandy shores
Life content as blessed happiness pours-
Pathways that a true, sincere seeker treads
Lined with beautiful flowers shining bright
Gems dancing within Mother Nature's beds
In this earthly realm, a glorious sight.
Morning's promise, day with radiant rays
Time to ponder this world and so much more
All the better, if one will learn to pray
Eye opening deep truth, never a bore-
Such rich treasures are found, if one but looks
Beyond those tragic shadows this world casts
So much more to find, far beyond school books
Love's deep truth, richer life, that truly lasts.
Robert J. Lindley, 9-08-2019
Rhymer, ( What Life, This World And Nature Gives )
She’s so neg neurodegenerative,
so womb retro Neanderthal
Her backward moving bellow decisions
aren’t thoroughly modern mellow
Got lip kicker high heels
that testosterone neuter kills
Miss So and So
loves to cold-heartedly
iron cast her anvil anger with
dragon breath death blows
She’s so con method constrictive,
so anaconda pocket squeeze avarice addictive
Those boa belly estrogen rolls
always take their masculine squeal toll
Her every hip sway diamondback pulse suggestion
is cobra hardwired for a vow recoil bosom confession
Miss No Good So and So
is a sultry eyelash she-devil
Delivering a bottomless pit of insomnia pain
everywhere she pillow goes
The passion in their eyes
The sweetness in their kiss
They calmly hold each other tight,
Afraid to say goodbye
Yet they remember, gratefully,
The next bell will unite them again.
Why does this make me smile so
And bring warmth into my heart?
Maybe witnessing this gives me hope
Maybe now I can finally see.
We climbed the gate while it was dark
So no one saw us in the park
We’d leave at eight and we’d be fine
For ‘Mr Keys’ would come at nine
This garden where the roses grew
In memory of people who
Wouldn’t mind that we were there
For where we trod, we trod with care
Not too much gear, we travelled light
No lamps to show up in the night
We had a place where we would sit
Until things brightened up a bit
Of brick and tin, with seats within
Its open face, a welcome grin
The shelter offered lakeside views
For those bereaved to sit and muse
And gazing out on yonder lake
In no rush for the day to break
It watched the mist sit dense and white
On waters that still clung to night
But as the moon took to its pillow
Something splashed beneath the willow
Newly crowned the sun took hold
To warm two lads who’d braved the cold
And in that dawning day we wished
For fish to feed… and so we fished
With bread or maggots, worms or cheese
To lure the carp from under trees
We caught one never, not once ever
We tried our best but carp are clever
They proved a never ending wait
But perch and roach would take our bait
And so we fished for what would bite
And every fish was pure delight
For every fish was surreptitious
Which made the fishing more delicious
Our voices low to show respect
The silence as I recollect
Was broken when the ducks went daft
Which sounded like the whole lot laughed
Then in the now increasing light
A few of them began to fight
A precursor, perhaps, to breeding
We didn’t care… the fish were feeding
And of the fish that we caught there
A tiddler was extremely rare
Though some were bigger than the rest
And sometimes, one, a personal best
But when the time had passed us by
With Mr Keys’ arrival nigh
Reluctantly we’d sneak away
No sign that we’d been there that day
*
How often have I reminisced
Of two good friends and where we fished
And of the people buried there
And how they didn’t seem to care
And so it goes,
I find myself,
alone, alone,
on a dusty shelf.
I am filled with words,
and pages unturned,
stories untold,
and no lessons learned.
My will is weak,
my mind is lost,
my insides black,
I pay the cost.
This life I've led,
has crossed the line,
I've sinned and bled,
ignored the signs.
And so I know,
I will not rise,
my never ending restlessness,
my welcoming demise.
From the bottom,
I'm looking up,
there is no light,
I gave it up.
Forever young,
my soul is old,
my body ash,
my story told.
we write as if it is our last night
we write whether it be with lead or ink or typed
we write alone or in a crowded environment
we write come rain or sunshine
we write because we want our stories to be told
we write through every phase; it is universal
we write even if our voice is never heard
we write when we are loved and when all hope is lost
we write regardless of our social class
we write because it feels wrong to stop
we write because it helps connect us
we write because we are all writers at heart
we write until our last breath on earth
AND SO YOU’RE GONE
And so you’re gone…
now what should I do?
My love…
Should I keep on believing,
you’ll come back to me?
I might go insane,
as I sit here waiting
What about the memories,
etched deep in my brain?
I can hope…
cause there’s always hope…
My love…
That you’ll understand your feelings,
and come home to me!
I might go insane,
as I’m contemplating
What about the memories,
etched deep in my brain?
Bridge
I don’t know…the best way to go
Start again…and live without you
Hope to find another friend…or
I could sit here and keep waiting
Ooohhh!!
And so you’re gone…
now what should I do?
My love…
Should I keep on believing,
you’ll come back to me?
I might go insane,
as I sit here waiting
What about the memories,
etched deep in my brain?
I can hope…
cause there’s always hope…
My love…
That you’ll understand your feelings,
and come home to me!
I might go insane,
as I’m contemplating
What about the memories,
etched deep in my brain?
Bridge repeat and fade
Copyright
John Derek Hamilton
July06,2018
Rose scented candles burning softly through the night
aurora rays of holy fanning, beauteous returns
Emerald dreams give birth to dessert moon's ignite
if life unfolds before you, meditate, discern ...
Ethereal reveries of flowers flushed in gold
pick a petal, sing a song, dance to hearts delight
Heaven waits for angels just like you, unfold
before the sun and seize the light
Let the springtime share its prose
watch the Bluestar flourish
kiss the lilac, hold the rose,
close your eyes and make a wish
Rose colored glasses and fairy dust galore,
the best things in life, you can't find in a store.
Dark is the night
with shadows and bleached bones
of leafless trees
Limbs frozen in time
A sculpted beauty
shroud below her thighs
Dark is the night
and so many trees
buried near the corpse flowers
Has he ever watched them bloom
or were his eyes transfixed on the shovel
Dark is the night
yet the moon shows its phases
always a sentinel of fate
never able to help the inculpable
as the black clouds devour
Dark is the night
And so it begins … now
when silence shrouds the night
and this part of the world
slips in the depth of sound sleep.
Sound begins to ricochet from four walls,
vibrates in the nocturnal air around me.
On my slumber the waves of echo break,
and I’m now wide awake.
The silence of the dark splits in pulses,
as the decibel count rises and falls
I feel being on the sea of sonata,
waves of cadence tossing me up and down.
The source of the sound
I know, she is in deep sleep beside me.
For years I’ve spent sleepless nights
to discover the melody in the rhythm.
And so it begins …now
And I hear the sound of music.
February 10, 2019
There is a moment
when skin meets skin
and the world shifts
without warning.
It is neither wholly sin nor wholly salvation,
only the tremor of bodies
recognizing something divine
in the other’s touch.
The air thickens
with heat and hesitation,
and I feel the pulse
of something older than shame
coursing through my veins.
It is holy in its recklessness,
sacred in its surrender,
and it frightens me
because I know I cannot name it
without trembling.
Every brush of fingers
feels like a prayer
that has slipped its way past
the lips it was meant for,
and every gasp
echoes the hymns
I was taught to whisper
when no one could hear.
I want to pull back,
to cloak myself in rules
and commandments,
to remind my body
that devotion is not found
in the fire of desire.
But something in me leans forward,
pressing against restraint,
pressing into the pulse
that tells me this collision
was always inevitable.
And so we collide-
not with intention,
not with cruelty,
but with the quiet force
of two truths
meeting at the edge of breath.
The sacred and the sensual
do not ask permission,
they do not negotiate,
they simply touch,
and I am left
to reckon with the tremor
long after
the bodies have parted.