Best Answer Poems
I didn’t answer, I didn’t need to
How did this happen,
amidst words, phrases,
stones skipped on poetic ponds
Not looking for or expecting
a touch to the heart, a caress,
yet it came
I fell, head first into a joy,
a blissful feeling
I had not felt before
You said the same,
wishes made on coins tossed
had finally come true
Holding hands without touching,
kissing over counted miles
and borderlines of snow
We sang together, harmonies,
lyrics of love from our hearts,
melodic compositions formed of dreams
Picked flowers, daisies, tulips
from the gardens of pure affection
blooming all around us
It seemed no walls,
barriers could hold us back
as we ran towards each other
Then appeared a river, wide, raging
A chasm of worry and fear
was flowing across our paths
Now a deluge of falling tears
filling, overflowing it banks
making footing uneasy, difficult
And we sit on opposite sides
staring at each other, reaching
for something that seems so far out of reach
Dark clouds roll in, threatening
but we stay, standing on the muddy shores
wondering what will become of us in this flooding
“I can’t” you weep facing
deep obstacles, a current too strong,
pulling you in different directions
A drenching downpour of emotions
saturating your decisions with doubt
as you wave goodbye
“Wait” I shout, “I will swim to you!”
But your eyes are too wet
and your heart is a breaking levee
Diving in anyway I am swept away,
pulled under, unable to breathe, choking
watching you fade as you turn away
Hope is gone, fears have overshadowed desires
drowning in what is lost,
trapped in the rapids of disappointment
When a hand grabs me, lifts me, saves me…
I open my eyes on the other side to see,
it is yours
You cradle me in your arms
and I breathe, the most wondrous breath
When suddenly clouds part and the sun
illumines your face as you whisper,
“You truly do love me, don’t you?”
I didn’t answer, I didn’t need to…you knew
My life surpassed, fades long, yet fast
(Below the dirt, my coffin's cast)
Despite how deep, however vast
I'll dwell inside that vacant mass
It's only He that understands,
The One that gave me Poet's hands
So tell me please, if you can-
How from dust arose a Man?
Should it be a poet's duty
To write solely about beauty?
A POET’S DUTY by BETH EVANS
ANSWER ON A BED OF NAILS
let me answer the quixotic brioche —
we all need a delicate pinch;
brachial bruising a warning
all the flowery talk dispels the magnitude
of cancer, the carbuncle of abuse,
the horrific salutations of the nazi regime
we march alone but also as a world
arm in arm, armed with insecticide
words like ants; a bench’s rash
a hose in diffusion’s spray
may try to paint the sky
in shades of love’s foray
turn it off; let flow subside
take a better look —
heart on a bed of nails
war of words; a twisting sword
let truth be the blood
that scores
because a poet can also whitewash
with parrots
mimic...mimic...mimicking
seek your bellyache
examine, test, squander
all its savings
let cavalry of water fall
soaking wet
with poet’s ink
10/9/2020
Beth Evans’ A Poet's Duty Poetry Contest
I look to the couch where he used to sit
There is an empty place there
No one else would fill it
There was his lair
His indent
Prayer
Prayer is the answer
Prayer
Frees me
When I let it all go
Tell God whatever my plea
How much I have to give and grow
I know that He will answer me and agree
Yes we are,
we are the poets of today
and tomorrow,
and we shall be forever.
Let them know that we are just writers
as our grand parents who had the talent we have!
Yes we are,
we are here to educate people
who knows how to read and write,
and those who love what we say and write.
Let them know that me and you,
and those of ours we are just poets.
They have to know what we are,
not to quote us wrong the poets of today
and those of tomorrow.
What is the meaning of life and death?
Why do some grow old & babies die before their first breath?
Where is God and why have faith?
When will there be justice and why speak the truth?
What is war about and why do men hate?
Why do some feel true love and others receive nothing but heartache?
When we die, do we finally know the answers?
or do we simply cease asking?
Idiosyncrasies, what are they?
I know I am eccentric,
I get more so every day,
My strange ways and weirdness,
Are always-on display,
I cannot hide it,
I often lose the plot.
I can't count my idiosyncrasies,
Because I have the lot.
thank you for your clever Poem, Deb
I think I read the lot.
Was it you that penned it, Deb,
Oh dear, I forgot.
The shadows creep and faintly in the sky,
stars begin to come to us with gentle light.
And once more our fancy doth take flight
with man's eternal question " oh God, why?
What place have we when then we die,
railing against the unknown we still fight.
Often that query comes unbidden in the night
as the time of our mortality marches nigh.
Now into the depths of sky man sails
on wings of faith, answers cloaked in mystery.
We beat our breast in anguish, try to understand
the plan that lurks there behind the starry veil.
And so it has been given through all history
that perhaps answers are written only in shifting sand...
4/18/14
Trillions of suns, my mind is awed
Distances as unfathomable as the face of God
In sense living, and sense divine
To lose myself, I find other minds
It’s not insignificance, the growing feeling
But connectedness leaves my soul reeling
Not random chemistry on a spiritless grid
But divinity that is no longer hid
4/20/16
I am the falling star within your dream
and upon your beauty my lights will stream
glittering
fluttering
a thousand lamps falling and shimmering
Dream under the night sky firmament
all the bright stars are Heaven's ornaments
oh just dream, dear
with not a fear
I will hover close and kiss every tear
Sweet dreams, just drift and float quietly
beyond the stars dwells God's eternity
see it
feel it
oh God's paradise promised, moonlit
Birds twittering and lovely in trees
and upon your lips you whisper please
must stay
till day
will this sweet paradise be mine, I pray
Each night you can drift to heaven
Close your eyes and count to seven
______________________________________
April 11, 2016
Poetry/Rhyme/The Falling Star - Answer Me
Copyright Protected, ID 16-776-979-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Inspiration -
Stars Are Our Link To The Great Beyond;
And God Himself, written by Mystic Rose
For the contest, Answer Me
sponsor, Mystic Rose
Second Place
The shooting star across the Heavens, stops my eye.
I wonder at this marvel in the nighttime sky.
I feel a yearn
watching it burn.
Will the stars take note when leaving is my turn?
My thoughts turn to the vastness of the sky,
wondering will I find my way there when I die?
Oh, blessed Lord,
I trust Your word,
that you'll take me home forever, is no lie.
What was the purpose of the star that fell?
Did it have a job to do and do it well?
Is it on God's list?
Will it be missed?
I beg the stars to answer. They resist.
The clouds roll in; the evening turns cold.
No time to let my jumbled thoughts unfold.
Dreams of the night
may shed some light.
Meanwhile my thoughts disperse like birds in flight.
God gave me so many blessings at my birth
and everything I need on His green Earth.
April 5, 2016
This poem was entered in the "Answer Me Contest. Judged on 4/20/16 and written
4/5/16 It received a NA
My God does not sit just upon a thrown;
He lingers in the slums and the trenches of groans,
But He does not require arduous tasks to atone.
He gave us Grace through death on the cross--
The hope that through Christ none have to be lost,
And we are sin-free for the asking.
Look to His favor with good cheer!
You don’t have to confess for the length of a year;
He knows every agony and joy you hold so dear,
For He lingers in the hearts of every man,
Waiting for each to take His hand,
And all sins will be forgiven.
You don’t need evangelist on phone or TV;
Just talk to Him like you talk with me,
And let Him give you comfort from your misery.
For He’s more than a star in fairy tales;
He helps believers through life’s travails
To see the beauty in this world.
Look around at the world in its broken glory--
You’ll find there are some amazing stories
If you take the time to carefully inventory
Those who have put their struggles in His hands,
For each of them knows and understands
His love and mercy are always with us.
written for Tell Me Contest by Richard Lamoureux
When I was very young,
Dad and I would fly my kite.
So one day I finally asked him,
"how does God make wind and light?"
"Only God can answer that."
He told me with a smile.
"So ask him when you get there!"
I nodded, then played a while.
When we first turned sixteen,
my best friend got a brand new car.
We had plans for Friday night,
but Wednesday, she didn't get far.
I cried when I hung up the phone,
"Daddy! Why my best friend?"
He came and sat down on my bed,
as we talked about the end.
"Only God can answer that."
He told me with a smile.
"So ask him when you get there."
Then I laid and cried a while.
Further down the road,
I stood dressed up in white.
The night that I'd been waiting for,
I'd found my Mr. Right!
I asked, "Daddy why am I so blessed?
I seem to have it all!
When some just have no luck,
they don't have much at all."
"Only God can answer that."
He told me with a smile.
"So ask him when you get there."
Then he walked me down the aisle.
Then thirty years flew by.
Two jobs, Dad's cancer, and my baby.
and Daddy's time grew shorter,
and every day became a maybe.
Then sadly the Dr. said "its time to say goodbye "
and by his bed I stood.
I just couldn't believe it,
that he'd be gone for good.
"Daddy why do you have to go?"
I asked him as I sobbed.
I knew it was his time,
but still, my heart felt robbed.
"I'll ask him when I get there..."
he told me with a smile.
"If I even care! I'll meet Jesus in a while!
I know you think that this will hurt you,
but these days are grains of sand,
and heaven is the Ocean!
We'll be together once again."
I found her jacket folded 'midst the drift,
Atop her shoes but 'neath a ribbon, red,
Tied to a strainer that she'd used to sift
The sand, for treasures left by tidal shed ...
The streamer I had given her that morn,
Around a bunch of flowers and the ring
Upon which all our promises were borne -
Our romance and our future, taken wing ...
Her note had led me here so I could find
Her single set of footprints on the shore,
That to our special spot, did slowly wind,
Then disappeared into the tidal bore ...
That answer, I can now ne'er understand -
The words 'I'm sorry' ... written in the sand.
~ 2nd Place ~ in the "Footprints Old Or New For A Prize" Poetry Contest, Carolyn Devonshire, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "English Sonnets" Poetry Contest, Emile Pinet, Judge & Sponsor.
( Syllables = ten per line, counted at HowManySyllables.com )
The loneliness of night cloaks a desolate sky.
Drizzling rain clings to devitalized windowpanes.
Staring, longing for an escape from reality.
Ruminating thoughts keep sleep at bay.
The flicker of the television hums in the other room.
Dragging myself, I sink into the doldrums of a discarded sofa.
Turning up the volume, the weatherman describes a tempest coming from the northeast.
Burnt out, silhouettes of notions run rampant.
Even the soft glow of the TV has become too much.
The wind is starting to howl now.
I can feel it whip around the boards of this old house,
Like ancient bones rattling through the ages.
The porch blinds suddenly, violently thrash.
Getting up, I close them before slipping into my pajamas.
Preparing for something just out of reach,
Always a centimeter from my grasp.
I lay in a desperate bed.
Ever-expanding darkness shrouds me.
Yet no relief arrives.
Swollen eyes no longer produce tears.
Vocal cords no longer produce sound.
Just silent screams going unheard into the mattress,
As sanity finally slips through the threads of unyielding fabric.