Best Anything Poems
As I claim my own parcel of solitude
from yesterday's banging boom,
I see heaven expanding through you
in me: fireflies glow rare as Sunday’s bliss,
never mind if there is a call for patience
when holy hours rise upon the lines of your mouth;
resting on the ledge of a private oasis.
This I cannot enter... the night curfew drifts
gently and quietly yet full of love's spaces;
O the hush of your mouth tender as harp's rhythm
I want to kiss.
My parcel of quietude becomes yours
while we listen to the same monastic silence,
gazing at clouds alone and together
until we rest lovingly inside our gentle, holy world.
Into near midnight with eyes closed, we slumber and then...
John Hamilton's Your Best Free Verse Love Poem--2
2/19/2017
i spit words much better than you
there is nothing at all that you can do
check out my spelling and my epic grammar
i'll smash your face in with a claw hammer
i carve my name in all your brains
remember me like the smell when it rains
with my fists of fury i'll knock you out
no-one can tell what the hell im on about
my poems make you think
sit down fools and take a drink
while i amaze you all with my dark power
no-one wants to read a poem about a flower
or a fluffy cloud or falling in love
we want to read about death from above
i go against the grain and dont get a lot of views
but that certainly doesnt mean i'll go boo hoo hoo
it makes me stronger faster smarter
dont count me out i'll have your guts for garters
so what have we learned from me today
listen quite closely to what i do and say
don't self publish its ever so vain
im sure it'll cause you nothing but pain
when you get rejected
it cant be what you all expected
im the best poet in the world bar none
better than byron shelley keats and donne
i best be off to write a dreary haiku
oh wait thats not me its obviously you
It's possible, I've lived and died before.
My restless soul, a wand'ring vagabond
Arising swiftly, only to abscond
And cheat the soul collector at death's door
Each time, departing without memories
In search of a new life, awaiting birth
To have another human feel it's worth
A guide, inside, to lead one to their knees
It matters not to me, what you believe.
Beliefs are confidence in what's unknown.
There is no guarantee, except for death
Acknowledging a soul, a chanced reprieve
Into this world, from nothingness, we're thrown
Returning when we take our final breath
4/4/23
Part Three of the Sixth poet honored
(Emily Dickinson) in famous poets dedication series
(3.)
From Weeping Tears, No Longer Shall Joy Find In Heart Anything
Creeping thick fog has dimmed my view of morn's resplendent lake
so dreary is life's sorrows, more than this sad soul can take
yet tomorrow promises mysteries that leap from the dark
tho' my life's worries have wrinkled my skin like Sycamore bark.
Night shall come, with its agonies crying to be unbound
as its bellowing howls screech out, horrendous gasping sounds
very soon midnight moon will swallow up my despondent soul
spitting it out as fragmented black-stained pieces of the whole!
God forbid! That from this nightmare I never dare to wake
to that of Life, dear sweet Love, I never again partake
and from morbid sunken state, my heart crumble and be no more
fallen into heaps of crushed bones, spilled blood and ghastly gore!
Woe! The epic pains such broken-heart images dare'st tonight bring
From weeping tears, no longer shall joy find in heart anything.
Robert J. Lindley, 2- 12-2019
Sonnet, ( The Sad Depths Of Sorrow's Deep Epic Pains)
dedicated to Emily Dickinson, poets dedication series..
(4.)
There's More To The Old Forest Than Its Ancient Trees
As years are peeled back, this gladden heart now truth sees
there's more to the old forest than its ancient trees
mystery in places, savagery in its nights
more than just imagination, it hides from sight!
Yet such does not negate its most beautiful gifts
its Autumn colors, songbirds notes that so uplifts
bounty of its harvests, peace it oft can instill
calm that one may find there, treasures that oft so thrill.
Tho' darkness lurks there deep and hides its evil ways
one can visit its truth, find self most any day
walk along its well worn trails and about life muse
all of its many wonders, in this dark world use!
As years are peeled back, this gladden heart now truth sees.
There's more to the old forest than its ancient trees.
Robert J. Lindley, 1- 18-2019
Sonnet, ( Amazing That This Dark World, Has Such Beauty In Its Forests)
dedicated to Emily Dickinson, in poet dedication series
Note:
(1.)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emily_Dickinson
(2.)
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/emily-dickinson
I try to avoid the pending pain
It's impossible, like trying to stop rain
Issues surround me everywhere
Creating a harsh reality of fear
It's not about not having faith inside
It's just a trap with no-where to hide
A place where answers can't be found
A place with lack of nature around
Some changes never experienced before
At the same time standing on a falling floor
Health falters, striking poorly any given day
Plodding forward, multi-tasking is the only way
My courage is in what I can try to cure
My love will grow from anything left pure
Heidi Sands
6/3/23
POTD: 6/5/23
If Anything, my life in twilight's grasp,
A realm of endings, where shadows clasp.
No deed can alter destiny's decree,
Yet bonds of attachment, I seek to flee.
Dreams of expectations, weighty and vast,
Hold me captive, in the echoes of the past.
May I break free from this relentless chain,
And find renewal, shedding old disdain.
If Anything, in the quiet of surrender,
New life may bloom, like a tender ember.
Overcoming the echoes of what has been,
A chance to emerge, from the cocoon within.
I'll do anything
for My Girl Samara, anything,
because she means everything
to me, it's true.
I'd risk anything,
for my Ms Everything.
Yes I'll do anything,
anything for you.
Anything?
Would I care for you?
Anything.
Do all your chores too?
Anything.
Would I lace your shoe?
Anything.
Go to Timbuktu?
Anything and back again.
Yes I'll do anything
for My Girl Samara, anything,
because for me you are everything,
and I'll do anything,
anything for you.
Anything but bread
I bumped into a man named Fred
And listened to each word he said
A story I was soon to dread
For all he talked about was bread
In detail he spoke every slice
Some made of wheat and some of rice
There’s cinnamon and sugar spice
And sourdough he mentioned twice
Banana nut he found so sweet
The perfect early morning treat
With coffee as you take a seat
To bake it though, a major feat
He chronicled each rim of crust
A lighter tan or darker rust
Or sprinkled with a pepper dust
I guess somehow he thought he must
When then he changed and featured toast
I think it’s what he liked the most
I can’t believe how he could boast
He’d tell his tale from coast to coast
I told him I was running late
I had a very special date
A meeting and it couldn’t wait
I headed out beyond the gate
I started walking down the trail
He didn’t stop, I heard him wail
“Be careful of the loaves on sale,
you’ll usually find that they are stale”
Into a café I then fled
And thought about that man named Fred
When asked to order, this I pled
“Just bring me anything but bread”
Inspired by Maureen McGreavy’s Baker’s Dozen poetry contest
That’ll teach me to read the rules first. : )
All things can tempt me from picking up my pen,
but the most demanding is housework and men!
I sit at my desk, I’m all geared up to write
Son begs please wash my jeans, I need them tonight!
I grab dirty clothes, pile them in the machine -
He will hang them outdoors when they are all clean!
Son retreats to his room, soon he’s sound asleep
I’ll hang out his laundry – my writing can keep!
He bounds in the room asking ‘mum what’s for tea’
I’ll prepare a meal - then write my poetry!
NB . My son has flown the nest - fictional poem for contest
All Things Can Tempt Me Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Beth Evans
11 syllables each line
2/20/20
I shall not fear of parching for your drop or two is enough
Even a tear would quench more than my lip, my soul
Cry me thrice, laugh me once
Leap more, tiptoe less
Break this earthen vessel if you wish
Just don’t leave a love song behind
For it will just maim a hollow tune
Like a broken violin in incandescent moon
Or a lone shell perpetually humming
The melody of his unmet clam or hermit.
Anything you lose by speaking your truth isn’t a loss
It’s an alignment
As individuals, we all have our assignment
Our purpose transcends people and
Our alignment sees the fake from the real
Go after your purpose before it is too late
You belong to your goals even
If a river of darkness heads your way
Stay glued to your direction and remember
“Locate the problem
Find a solution
Strengthen what you have
Do it before it is too late”
Chase your purpose
Raise your expectations
So that you never get bored with your purpose in life!
Strike a chord with destiny and
Let your gift feed humanity even
If you lose people along the way
Stand your ground because
Anything you lose by speaking your truth isn’t a loss
It’s an alignment
A night’s rest is never enough for the city always calls
A new day is like a page flip from the time a night falls
A breakfast can be leftover supper to empty bowls
Or a smile for sparing the lives of crowing fowls
I duck human traffic as I rush for my day’s grind
It is just like a switch flip, how I forget what I left behind
I have one hope but a million calculations in my mind
I take the same turns and corners but I always hope for a new find
I am a jack of all trades and I can trade like a jack
When there's a lack of luck, when I slack, I turn into a flack
Tomorrows become like yesterdays, if today slumbers
Time is mostly regrets and money, it is never just numbers
Bouyant is what we all are as the tide of struggles flows
We all float to a destiny regardless of the type of oars
We rushing through rapids to a sea where everything slows
On this voyage of life the compass points at one thing, anything goes
No person is too small for God’s attention
God the Father is able to do anything, anytime, anywhere
A few bad chapters do not mean your story is over
On the contrary, the glory awaits you
Any failure can hail a more determined individual
So don’t give up
It’s time to Get Up
The day will come
When you will erupt with joy again!
Promise, Problem, Provision
The day will come
When you will erupt with joy again!
Promise, Problem, Provision
Get Up because a few bad chapters do not mean your story is over
No person is too small for God’s attention
God the Father is able to do anything, anytime, anywhere
When I look into some people’s eyes,
I see NOTHING.
Yet in other people’s eyes,
I see SOMETHING…
Distant, yet recognizable,
And I want to get closer.
But when I look into your eyes,
I see EVERYTHING,
And when our eyes meet,
Our souls collide,
And ANYTHING is possible.
In your eyes,
I am healed.
I've been served lots of unappetizing things
that simply did not please my palette.
Being force fed with bitter or insincere words
is unappealing presented as a crisp green salad.
I would rather be underfed and malnourished
than to feast on something too briny or cheesy.
I won't feast on a buffet of regurgitated foods,
like dill pickles offered as sour grapes... sleazy.
Nothing has more stench to me than rotten food.
As an example, mold spores inside blue roquefort,
and don't ask me to swallow one bite of sarcasm.
That would take far too much of my time and effort.
I'd spit out a spoon of any soup if in it swims a fly,
or if the spices were added by the hand of a hypocrite.
A warm peach cobbler would make a scrumptious dish
as long as inside there'd not be left on purpose... a pit.