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Best Anything Goes Poems | Poetry

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The Best Anything Goes Poems

Details | Anything Goes Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Recalling Her

It is thirty six years ago, and I am with her in the garden,
where July is a picnic of egg sandwiches, cress-stippled,
fuzzy-downed peaches, yellow-tangy lemonade.
Her fingers have the delicacy of dancers
as she deftly mixes paint on a palette blue as the sky -
blobs of acrylics bright as sweet shop candies.

Summer is a sizzling colour wheel, spinning in its heat hues -
cadmium orange, pyrrole red, gold ochre -
those fever-flames that blaze across her page.

My small world is warmed by the sun in her smile.

Russian vine stitches a delicate doily over the shed roof.
The heat-glazed garden shimmers and buzzes.
There is a twilight world under sweet clusterings of lilacs:
a cool shock of shade, pendulous-legged black flies
hovering in the murky mauve.
China white stars of jasmine light my way.
Please keep me close. Let me stay.


It is twenty six years ago, a morning of mourning,
and the notes of the dead bells toll
as, mist-muffled, they roll
through November's sleet streets.

I close my eyes and the sun in her smile parts the clouds.

Sober-suited people crush and cluster in pews;
row upon row of perylene black, winter-pale faces titanium white.
Stained glass windows filter and warm the ash-grey light
until her coffin is a vibrant palette of rainbows.

There are stories - lots of stories - anecdotes,
a crimson-backed journal she wrote,
a painting she painted, coffin-propped,
a poetry reading - one of her own -
Tapestry is a wondrous thing, in it the lovely colours sing...

Creamed rice-colour roses heap sweet
on her stone - a slate plate serving up a dead name -
and carnations splash cadmium scarlet
like blood throbbing from the gash of grief's raw wound.


It is now, and I am alone, taking a short cut home
through evening's rich palette.
Elegiac elms shed viridian tears
and the sky is a burnt sienna explosion.
October's umber seeps into November's sepia tones.

My mind is coloured with her and then.
I hold a small cameo box that held
the colourful spill of her pills: kaleidoscope planets
orbiting my loneliness, spinning off into nothingness...

Dark figures fill the park: silhouettes, shadows
following me home; spirits stepped from her portraits,
faces pushed down into coat collars, crinkled with frowns.

Paint-pinned people in their primaries and pastels,
on canvas, under glass; stopped heartbeats of the past.
Trapped moments on paper and boards.

I close my eyes and see the sun in her smile,
recall how, since her passing, life has become a free fall,
a parapet leap without parachute.

And the smudged charcoals of memory
are beginning to blur, fading like her watercolours...

in memory of my grandmother

2nd place in contest 'Anything Goes', date judged 4/12/2014
date written 11/3/2013

Copyright © Charlotte Jade Puddifoot | Year Posted 2013

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Madame Mistress, ebonies princess,
Southern comforts golden jewel,
A golden beauty down south does dwell.
She hides many secrets beneath her,
Glittering mask of mystery's mystic spells.
A dark priestess is this Cajun queen,
Black widows magic women,
Known as Ms. New Orleans.
In her crimson gown, trimmed by
Velvet's purple hues, she smiles
Behind her white lace fan.
A beguiling angel is she the devils
 Own kindred.
The voodoo queen of the swampy delta,
Ruling over the shadow demons,
Whom guard the everglades.
Underneath fancy face and social grace,
Lies the misbegotten heart of a
 Witches soul.
Here the trumpets sound at,
La Carnival as minstrels stroll,
Down Bourbon Street with rhythmic,
Precision's precise step.
Come join in celebrations grand parade,
The Maude Gra. Where anything goes,
Here things are forgotten as the sun rises,
This grand lady of beauty's legacy's charm.
Presses one finger to her redden lips,
Speaking not more than a hushed whispers
Sigh carried across bayou.
Thus does the Spanish moss weep, for
Those lost souls swallowed whole,
Beneath nights dark covenant of death.
Ghostly images walk the muddy side shores,
Phantom spectators existing as prisoners,
Trapped in limbos web, a thin fine line
Between the living and the dead.
Beware lone travelers, those for whom,
Seek mysteries glamor and mystic,
Of the southern by ways.
All are welcome to taste our spicy
Yet beware pay homages respect,
To Mz. New Orleans, she after all takes
Great care of her own.



Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

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Frosted Panes - re-post

When winter paints those frosty ferns on my windowpane
I find myself a little girl up on your lap again
In that old house, where you wove that coloured tapestry
With all the glorious memories of your life upon the sea

With weathered palm so deeply etched with every season past
You rubbed a porthole in the center of the frosted glass
Where outside in splendour lie a winter-wonderland
As halos rose above your head from a pipe bowl in your hand

And there upon a rocking chair as smoke rings filled the air
We rocked across a sea of dreams wind tangled in our hair
To lands I’d never been before we stepped upon those shores
And through your eyes I saw each one and still I wanted more

The morning passed in dreams between two pairs of eyes of green       
As the world outside held its breath in a sea of snowy cream
And when the chill of winter melted from the windowpane
The whistling kettle on the stove brought us home again

You held my hand and looked at me with that twinkle in your eyes
And told me you would be my Captain 'til the day I died
So when winter paints those frosty ferns on my windowpane
I find myself a little girl up on your lap again 


Written:  Jan 15, 2011

Author:  Elaine George
First Place in Brian Strand's contest:  Let's See
4th   Place In - Anything goes contest

In loving memory of my Dear Papa 'Captain James George'.

Authors Note:
When I was a child of three, I Went to live for a year with my Grandparents in Nova 
Scotia. At that time my Grandfather was a retired Sea Captain of a Three Mast 
Schooner. He had spent most of his life at sea, taking lumber and coal to New 
Brunswick and various ports in the U.S. and in the winter months, would carry on  to 
pick-up and deliver  cargo in the  West Indies. Although my time with him was short, 
the memories we shared have comforted me through-out the years.  



Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2011

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King Sun and Goddess Sea

One summer day, enraptured by the Goddess Sea, King Sun shone down with all his might; most splendidly he moved the Goddess, for she rippled laughingly a shimmering reply to Sun in azure sky, and while reflecting that same hue where King Sun dwelt, her turquoise ripples lengthened, for the goddess felt herself now rising up with joy. Wave after wave was leaping, frothing. . . as King Sun more strongly gave his final rays to her. Then he descended low that he might kiss the lovely Sea on earth below - to kiss her soon before the last day’s shadows fell, and so he touched her where she’d let her body swell. With yellow gold, his final glow, he bathed her face, but when the night arrived with sable colored lace to drape the goddess, Sun had vanished from all sight; below Sea’s depth he’d sunk - to love her through the night. For Suz's "Let's Be Open" poetry contest and now for PD's Anything Goes Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013

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As I claim my own parcel of solitude from yesterday's banging boom, I see heaven expanding through you in me: fireflies glow so 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 rhtymn I want to kiss. My parcel of solitude becomes yours while we listen to the same monastic silence, gazing at paper mache stars alone and together-- until we close our eyes, snuggle into our world, and then... John Hamilton's Your Best Free Verse Love Poem--2 2/19/2017 Originally written 12.29.2016

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016

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'A Thousand Steps'

A thousand steps in between 
who I was and who I am now 
do I wonder about the detours? 
do I wish I took the dirt road instead? 

Would my path have been smoother if I said no instead of yes? 
Would the worries have been less then what they are today? 

I guess I’ll never know, 
unless I go back in time 
choose a different path 
choose the least attractive offer and run with it

pipe dreams that is all my journey back in time would be 
‘cause I would not have met you 
and you would not be reading these words.... 

Everything in life boils down to an immaculate plan, 
it may not be my ideal plan or yours 
but in the end the voyage continues 
whether we want to or not…

‘Cause it is all part of the bigger picture 
in that image is your life and mine... 

We just got to embrace the journey 
no matter how uncertain it might be...


Contest: Anything Goes
7th Place

Copyright © Wilma Neels | Year Posted 2011

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The Preacher's Son

A lonely figure twirls itself, concealed
by blades of wheat as clouds float through the sky.
The form, a boy, looks up from golden field
and sees the clouds as wedges of cream pie.

He hides despair as if it were that wart
beneath his sleeve.  A no-fuss, lonesome lad,
he thinks of things most wonderful to thwart
forlornness. . . He rehearses being glad.

Skipping to the thicket, near a brier,
he spies some lovely flowers; standing there
he uses the demeanor of his sire,
pretends to hold a Bible, thumps the air. . .

and preaching to forget-me-nots, the boy
imagines what might be. . . imagines joy.

For Chris' Anything goes!

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010

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One more peg

One more peg to quench my thirst, thirst of a desert nearer to sea so close to it yet so far. One more peg to forget the pain, pain of my heart which I once offered to you but you refused. One more peg to end this poem, a poem of love, love that is lost, lost in time never to come. Just one m o r e pe....... ===================== placement:10 th, (July 2011) Contest:Anything Goes Sponsor:Irma Linda Trevino By:kashinath karmakar(18th January,2011)

Copyright © kash poet | Year Posted 2011

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The Home Maker

She wore a gingham apron,
battled dirt on hands and knees
while garments washed swayed brightly
on a clothesline in the breeze.

She sewed and worked a garden,
did the dishes all by hand;
her wiggling giggling kids
would straighten up at her command.

Her leftovers were loved as much
as was the ginger cake
she drizzled with that special sauce
she always used to make.

Today they’d call her backwards,
for no feminist was she!
But all she’d ever daydreamed of
was what she came to be.

(For Mac's "Anything Goes Again" contest)

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010

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Rio Grande River

Now this is quiet a famous little stream, many untold story
The muddy waters run slow, but don't let it fool you when it comes alive
Divides the United States and Mexico, but it is just a line
Old Cottonwood trees and quick sand, some cross it for glory
A history of out laws crossed it fleeing into Mexico, some did not survive
Maybe holding up a bank or stealing from a gold mine

Long yesterdays ago, Pancho Villa and his raiders came
They robbed and killed, then head back to their sanctuary 
Some though him to be a hero, to the poor he was a giver
He was an out law, that is where he got his fame
Even today there are those that will argue to the contrary
After he did his damage, he always crossed that river

Those muddy waters have seen a lot and still active
It has been a battle ground, many old cowboy songs sung
But like history, the old river changes too
Sometimes history is not very attractive
Those cottonwoods have seen many horse and cow thieves hung
Back in those days that what they had to do

The tides of the old river have changed. smugglers bring drugs to this side
No longer six shooters, it is machine guns now days
No more cowboys and Indians, now cocaine desperado thugs
Anything goes there, no such thing as pride
And the old river once again has had to change it's ways
It is all because of damn old drugs

Copyright © Danny Nunn | Year Posted 2010

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The Luck Of The Draw

The tiniest egg Sanctuary for new life; Dinner for many.
Entered in contest: Enter the 'Premiere haiku contest II: Anything Goes ' Poetry Contest; sponsored by: Chris D. Aechtner

Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2015

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'Love Unquestioned'

My sadness 
Tears rolling down
He wiped the tears away and held me close.
He never asked what brought them on, he just 
let me be me
and loved me
with my 

Contest: Anything Goes
14th Place

Copyright © Wilma Neels | Year Posted 2011

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The Bench In Central Park

       On this dreary winter morning I sit on a bench in Central Park.  Lost in my own 
thoughts of the conversation I had with my ex-wife and her last remarks.  I keep asking 
myself is it my fault?  What did I do wrong?  The chilly wind fills my ears with it's endless 
song.  I shiver slightly and goose bumps crawl along the back of my neck.  Her words have 
left me an emotional wreck. I pull my leather jacket tighter around my shoulders.  I feel it in 
my bones this day will get colder.
       I've seen several joggers getting in their morning run.  That just shows people will 
continue their lives never mind the rays of the sun.  So many thoughts running through my 
head.  And I hold the morning newspaper I still haven't read.  I contemplate over my life, it's 
not always easy, and so-called-friends can be the enemy.  Even your spouse living in your 
house can betray you with infidelity.  That is why my heart is aching like a cavity.  Right now 
I'm doing my best to hang on to my sanity, but I really want to shout profanity.
       I notice an attractive couple hand-n-hand laughing and enjoying a morning stroll; and 
for some reason I can't control, I feel a sense of peace glow within my soul.  My insecurities 
diminish from their dark hellhole.  I begin to feel "whole," and suddenly this morning doesn't 
seem so cold.
       I get up from the bench shaking off the numbness that has set in.  A very pretty woman 
walks by with her dog and I grin.  She notices and smiles back.  Wow!  A kinda smile that is 
only meant for kodak!  I watch her walk past me with her dog leading the way.  Something 
tells me "you better not let this one get away."  As I'm listening to my inner voice, she 
glances back over her shoulder, and I knew that she too was giving me a choice.  Amazing 
how just several minutes ago my entire world seemed so dark.  I now knew everything was 
going to be okay because of this bench in Central Park......

* 10th Place win in "Anything Goes" Contest 
   sponsored by A Rambling Poet

Copyright © Jimmy Anderson | Year Posted 2009

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The American Dream

The beauty of the dream
Even fools are allowed in
Misinformed and crawling on narrow stony roads
Yet in this land anything goes
We all have the right to our opinions and views
Apparently even old fools
One day soon
Guns will be taken
So that freedoms truly rule
As the clowns dance
One day
Poets shall rule

Remember this! Obama was no fool!

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2018

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Don't close your eyes

Don't close your eyes I am seeing myself in them, mirrors may lie but your eyes always speak the truth. Let me check my face how much of it is still face and how much turned to mask, let me judge how far I am off the track from my promise-days, let me see my eyes in your eyes how much they have lost innocence, how those learned lines of forehead replaced my candid face. I am getting blurred..... are you crying dear? teardrops in your eyes.... will they clean me,my image? Is it so? Then shed few teardrops for me. But..... Please don't close your eyes. © kashinath karmakar (21st June 2011) =============000============== Placement: 3rd (Nov. 2011) Contest:Everyone Knows Anything Goes

Copyright © kash poet | Year Posted 2011

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I wish to live with true abandon
experiencing things more at random
Just like the first man Adam
drinking clean water
living with nature in tandem

Garden freedom body exposed
Unconcerned with cars or clothes
Easy does it anything goes
Touch the sky
feel the sand between my toes

A happy sort of ecstatic
The natural life no plastic
My days more elastic
I could be a true original 
instead of a conservative classic

For me no rules to live by
No one to ask me how and why
I could give anything a try
No fear to hold me back
Watch and see this old guy fly!

Written specifically for Brenda Chiri's Abandon Poetry contest
July 16, 2018 

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2018

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Fear Not, My Daggers Are Plunged And Never Thrown

Fear Not, My Daggers Are Plunged And Never Thrown

When days are burnt offerings and nights jagged blades
I loose me those restraints, set words into parades.
Not a tender child, I have seen fire-burnt hearts
held a dying loved one, when her kind soul departs.
Yes, in ancient days, red-bloom fell off this dark rose
now when world fights me, I fight back- anything goes!

Tender vanities, consumed by darkened fires
entire forests are ash now, tho' thirst still inspires.
Fear not, my daggers are plunged and never thrown
that mark of courage, my bravery is well known.
Up close, so I see horror in their evil eyes
as their darkness understand what it is that dies!

When days are burnt offerings and nights jagged blades
I loose me those restraints, set words into parades.
Not a tender child, I saw fires burning hearts
held a dying loved one, when her kind soul departs.
Yes, in ancient days, red-bloom fell off this dark rose
now when world fights me, I fight back - anything goes!

Robert J . Lindley, 5-02-2018
Rhyme, ( Defiance and Soul)

Note- Poem edited, reworked from a 1975 original piece.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2018

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maybe this is our fate
but right now it seems fatal
it anything goes wrong 
this love may lose its life
I have always imagined our love to remain
but then I let him in
and now that he is in my head
he is slowly leaking into my heart
I would rather kill myself 
then break your heart again
he is your best friend
but he is my best interest
I'm slowly falling for him
if I fall, I fear it may break me
I need saving
but maybe you are not the hero I thought you were
life is short
live life to the fullest
but how can I
when you are stealing mine?

Copyright © Autumn Rain | Year Posted 2017

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each of us is naked inside our clothes left as a tender rose as you suppose
an untimely gift so you get my drift in a center from the mind you got this
a tender swept deal amidst the pain zero in on a name heros plain
each day is a gift if you get my drift soft sorrow in the drift
live in the center of your mind circle in my mind...,
Kit Kat the sorrowful nap can give you a heart attack treasure in back
love is a coma a masterful sonar toward anything goes,

taking a cat nap with the sugar in the back folding hands as to react
circle in the wind the sorrowful minister wins the beauty as to reach a bit deep;
the folding of the hands embraced by the saviors hand
a commercial to breath knocked down to your knees
fragrance to the wind as in sorrowful win

a breath of lavender with a shed of Rosemary,
knocking as to dreaming the underscore is winning
proof a deposit in the closet a rip torn logic,
sure fire way to meeting cactus branch receiving glory be

life is busy when your making other plans all to understand the Willow nor the fan
time to embrace and understand:
Rocky running up those stairs one can't compare that nothing was there
he made his way drinking eggs slurpee,
a nestled beat stand room to repeat...,

Rocky throwing stones in regards to staying in the zone
having to fight Mr. T and The Russian or should I let somethings beam,
sweat pant Army pants the quietness of letting go beyond the branch of leting go
Rocky could fight like there's no tommorow amidst his pain nor sorrow,

Although the years have passed still having every reason to ask the flame of his glory
that's still not the end of the story,
see beyond the make believe his sees a heavenly need to help each other
pierced with regards of letting go 

Rocky taco prize for letting things go bust up the beat to increase ts tempo
All those years ago the beat of letting go,
surfing through its magic a time before..,
Rocko taco take you their take you to the sky take you any where

life is built on faith make no mistake the proof is in the pudding who are you kiding
love has gained it also has lost humanities courageous of cost

Each new day we learn something valuable amidst the pain inside we gain
what are the marching orders let me be the first to explain:
A coward dies 1, 000 deaths a saint dies but one
in the ancients circle let them mark down but none
beauty in the famous beast lie down gently and repeat
a ballpark figure that one deserves to recapture

love has its roots down deep and structured for all to notice
how you had fought so hard and fierce my one truest love is gone from here
a challenge to be free is a question of time my one solution is using my mind
living on the edge and its going to my head sitting up at night all alone in bed
following the rainbow to the sky I see a reflection of you pass me by
Our war were in is almost over its so hard to believe I lost my lover...,

pierce the moon beam to the center of the heart

Copyright © Mario Vitale | Year Posted 2018

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Fake (Alliteration of the letter F)

Freida's fluent flaunt flew
foul for fraudulent frame
Foiable folly find fickled
fiction for fame
Followers forgo fodder for
Figurheads fiendish fraud
Friends frantic Finance'
feud for fishy forlorn
Formidable formal flatterer
flamboyant fit for flippant
Flirtatious flaunt for frivolous
frisky freaks
Finding friendly faces frustrate 
futiles futures
Futuristic fruition from 
felonious feigns foundation

(entered into "Anything Goes " contest)

Copyright © john loving iii | Year Posted 2009

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Bang those pots and pans, Rattle those noise makers as loud as you can,
For its New Year’s Eve my friends a chance to start fresh again, let’s start
That sacred count down just before the appointed mid-night hour,
Release the confetti, exploded those multicolored balloons, 
After all it’s time to party!
Kissing fools be ready, for it’s a holiday tradition to grab your
Lovers, family and friends, and pucker up and smooch, only light
Heartedly of course, raise those glasses running full to celebrate,
Smiling at each other at the fortunes fancy dreaming, of what this
Magical year may hold for one and all!
Singing Auld Lang Sine at the top of our lungs, toasting one another
Each brother, mother and son, feasting at the table of blessings
Promise, as generations embrace in the loving spirit known as
Kindred ship!
Let us celebrate to the fullest shaking that old rock of ages
To its almighty inner core, for this brand sparkling New Year
 Is finally upon us, and it’s up to each one of us to make a fresh
Old Saint Nicholas snow dust of Christmas has gone now it’s pasted
Us by, although the tree still lies trimmed in its sacred corner of
Every living room, we’ve made it through another happy holiday
Of decorating, shopping, last minutes’ details, now it’s the adults
Turn to kick it back and holler, hurry!
Scream, shout let it all hang out, for once party until you drop,
The kids are with their sitters, we can act like over grown upstarts,
The world is our Oster anything goes, except arrestable offences  
Of course, please excuse me as this party hostess, but know shinning
Lights outside my residence aloud, except for strung up Christmas bulbs
Not yet taken down, Thank you very much, lol!
Drunken revelry is acceptable, because I’ve gathered all the keys
At the beginning of this rumpus gone wild, after all momma didn’t
Raise this old country gal to be no old fool you’ll know, so let’s rock
And roll until all those old tunes sound all the same again!
Let’s share old memories of long ages seasons past, wipe away our tears,
Fears, and laugher’s jeers, for we can begin again fresh and new,
After all we are all a part of this family called humanity, forgiveness
Is one of our enduring qualities isn’t!
I’ll brake out the good brandy, and am willing to share an extra
Round of holiday cheer amongst mine own kindred brethren!
We’ll toast to the treasured memories of those for whom we’ve lost,
For those whom are in distant lands at war, or unable to be present,
We celebrate thee on this momentous night with raised glasses
Held high, and prayers of loving devotions written in our hearts!
I’ve got one last message for one and all here in the cyber world,
HAPPY NEW YEAR to all, and to all have a great night!


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

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Don`t be fooled by the face i wear,for i wear a thousand masks and none of them are me.Don`t be fooled, for god sake don`t be fooled I give the impression that im secure,that confidence is my name and coolness is my game,and i need nobody,but don`t believe me. Beneath dwells the real me, in confusion,fear and loneliness that`s why i hide behind of this mask i`ve created,to shield me from the glance that knows,but such a glance is my salvation,that it is followed by salvation, it is followed by loveIt`s the only thing that can liberate me from my own prison walls. I`m afraid that deep down i`m nothing and no good and you will reject me. And so begins the parade of masks,i idly chatter to and tell you everything that means nothing,and nothing that is everything that is is crying within me,so please listen carefully as i try to hear what i`m not saying. I want to be genuine spontanious and me but you please help me,hold out your hand. Each time you are understanding, kind and gentle, the harsher i strike back. My heart grows very feeble wings. Your sensitivity, empathy and power of understanding you alone can release me from my self built wall and lies my only hope. Beat down these walls with firm hands,but gentle for a child who is sensitive.I`m someone you know well, for i am every man you meet, i am every woman too... I AM ALSO YOU.
Paul Beadnall. Sponsor Tracie ~*~ A solitary sonnetist Contest Name Everyone knows, anything goes... This was copied from a wall from a Mental hospital wall, i didnt know the Author but do now Mr. David Summers (1966) . This shone light back into my days.. I read this when i was in a torrid time in a mental hosptal ( unknown author)

Copyright © Paul Beadnall | Year Posted 2011

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Anything Goes

She throws hateful words at me
And I echo more hate right back
After twenty years of matrimony
We have perfected our lame attacks
Familiarity, contempt does breed
As the long-time married surely knows
But in love, just like where soldiers bleed,
All is fair and anything goes

She knows all my insecurities
And knows just where it hurts
Our love is stained with impurities
As we eat our just desserts
Underneath our outer jealousies
The lava of love still gently flows
But on the battlefield of our miseries
All is fair and anything goes

Silence is an unspoken truce
As we attempt to mend the wound
Around our necks hangs the wedding noose
Neither surrendering too soon
The peace table is a soft mattress
Where tenderly we land the blows
Being guilty, we don’t dare confess –
All is fair and anything goes

NOTE:  This was written for Chris Aechtner's "Anything Goes" contest.  Although I realize, "Anything Goes" was not the intended theme and that Christopher was simply opening his contest to any and all kinds of poetry, I thought it would be fun to use that as the theme of my poem.

Copyright © Joe Flach | Year Posted 2014

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Humane Struggle

In the Congolese Jungle three men are training for a mission.
They train to detain and disarm poachers.
They hope this will be the conclusion of their efforts.
They also train for a formidable alternative.
Poachers are opportunistic and have only self interest.
Poaching of an entire species will break ancient circle of life.

Congolese rangers are armed to protect the circle of life.
Supporting generations of all species is their mission.
They invest their lives in an important and altruistic interest.
For them there is no tolerance of poachers.
Killing fields of wasted animal carcasses is no alternative.
A better world for all species depends on their efforts.

Intensity shows on their faces because of their efforts.
There is anger and determination expressed for defense of life.
They seek surrender from poachers, but prepare for alternative.
African rangers prepare for their dangerous mission.
Rifles raised, knee on ground, they are ready for poachers.
There will be hands tied or bloodshed to defend their interest.

Rangers and humanity have a shared interest.
There is need for pressuring greater and continued efforts 
to stop any extinction of species by poachers.
The rangers’ trainer shouts and points as if saving life.
It is important to emphasize dangers during a mission.
If anything goes wrong there may be no alternative.

As long as species have breeding populations there is an alternative.
Continuing our circle of life must not be a debated interest.
Keeping our circle unbroken must be everybody’s mission.
More rangers and training are needed to improve efforts.
In blue fatigues and camouflage hats rangers defend life.
Their appearance is forceful and their gaze threatens poachers.

It is difficult to find, stop, and educate poachers.
But these undaunted rangers press and carry on our only alternative.
They crouch in jungles and pursue takers of life.
They grasp their rifles and nothing deters their interest.
An unrecognized, unseen enemy resides among them and their efforts.
In the grasses and leaves of jungles rangers take their mission.

Poachers and their self interest can no longer be tolerated.
Efforts to remove poachers’ damage to our circle of life, 
depends on the mission of rangers to give species an alternative.

If you are intrigued by this work read and review G. D. Master’s book, “Interpretations,” free in PDF format on Simply enter “gd master” or “interpretations” in the search bar of SmashWords to find it.

Copyright © Graphite Drug | Year Posted 2016

Details | Anything Goes Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Captain and I

With the palms of well-worn leathery hands that in younger days guided a Tall Ship round 
the globe many times with the help of stars that still twinkled in his eyes, the old man made 
a porthole in the frosty forest of swirling ferns that had been painted on the kitchen window 
pane by Jack-Frost during the night.

As I sat on his lap, he told me the creaking sound made by the rockers from the rocking 
chair we sat in on the hardwood floor - if he closed his eyes, could make him believe he was 
back with the wind in his sails, rising and dipping and swaying with the whims of the 
waves ‘ore the sea.

Back- and- forth, back-and-forth, we rocked as the porthole on the window pane grew larger, 
exposing the winter wonder land outside where trees and roads and roof-tops lie frozen 
beneath a layer of fluffy snow that looked like icing on a birthday cake, as the house 
softened and swelled in the warmth of the burning kindling wood that snapped and crackled 
in the stove. 

Rocking  back-and-forth, back-and-forth, I asked him, looking into those eyes of green, with 
that far away look. “Grandpa, won’t you tell me please, what lies beyond the sea?”  He 
paused for a moment, blowing silver halos that rose from his pipe in an aroma of sweet 
smelling ‘Old Sail’ tobacco, and with the magic of his words, he took me on a journey, 
rocking across the sea where he showed me all the places and wondrous things he’d ever 

That was many and many a year ago, in a kingdom by the sea, where an old man, taught a 
little girl, that life is but a dream.


                          In memory of: Captain James George the Third - My Grandfather

 2nd place in  'Anything Goes #2 Contest - sponsered by Constance La France 

Author's note:  

This is one entry of many that will appear in my next book ' A Journey of Roses and Thorns'. 
They are true events that have happened in my life - some where roses, some were 
thorns.  I have learned valuable lessons from both.

Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2010