Best Appraised Poems


Premium Member Down Fall

Within the warmth of home, I sit amazed
at the gentle fall of snow through window pane.
Cup of tea in hand, my layered thoughts unchain,
and tumble from the tip of tongue unfazed
to land upon a pristine page appraised,
aided by the silent fall through snowy pane.
Oh, the soft white wintry glow 'pon the lane
leaves a graceful drape, Lord be praised.

Within the warmth of home, I muse on themes 
of days to come and those gone bye and so,
I thank the Lord for all of nature's schemes,
for the gift of time, for peace, and for the snow. 
Oh, make the blanket deep, I wish to dream,
may all my days and 'morrows have this glow.

Premium Member In the Sea of Life


Whispers of Light color the Night in lifeless hues
Musical Notes arrayed in soft Quotes for a muse
Filling up Lives with captivating Archives in cues
For moments of Bliss, feels like a Kiss to bemuse

Gentle Insights soften our Sights with pure truth
Creating a Peace that will never Decrease its ruth
Embracing the Heart from the very Start of our youth
Echoing Hopes, finding moral who Copes with uncouth

From the Darkness comes a Starkness that sighs
Words within a Poem, so you Show him who tries
With passions Alive, burning to Strive so they rise
Above the Pains life sometimes Gains before one dies

Faith makes one Wise in another’s Eyes detect grace
That blinds the Soul who is Whole and cannot face
The past that Casts a bitter shadow that Lasts to chase
Black thoughts Around and finally Abound in this place

Loving feelings Abide deep Inside the one who feels
Alive with Compassion that leaves you Ashen from appeals
To be Appraised by those Amazed that love like this seals
The heart with Joy which will Destroy any corrupt ideals




In Rhymes Sublime Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
November 1, 2020

"her Eye's Looked Out With Smiles of Love "

Her eye’s looked out with smiles of love 
That left my heart amazed.
In wooded graveyard high above
With Yew Trees we appraised.

We traced our roots that clawed the ground
In mind we felt the clay.
Of hearts and souls rose too profound
And toxins came our way.

In love the Yew’s are similar
So beautiful and true.
Beware the poison in their bark
That killed the dove that flew.


Road To Realization (Part I)

I’m finally growing up; I realize
Real eyes can recognize these real lies
Lies he, in a landscape barren
Bearin’ a false teachin’ he believed in
 
Deceived by these elders, he felt like the bait
Bate the result as they betray the whole class of oh-eight
Ate the lessons; trusted; left awed
Odd how you long to go back, sidestep the façade

Fraud; caused his mind to alter
Altar of this education abandoned; falter

Faltered, for as he appraised
Praised then, all of the knowledge he gained
...

(To be continued)
© Ryan Nash  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Measure of a Man

How does on measure the worth of a man?
How does one try to surmise it?
Can a man be appraised like a parcel of land?
There are so many things that comprise it;

For the gem of his soul has such faceted cut,
That we're hard put to judge by set standard.
It depends from which angle you're viewing the gem,
How it's depth and it's beauty are rendered;

So how can we measure the worth of a man,
When we can't see all sides of the jewel?
Do we measure the body, the spirit, the soul,
A man is not single, he's plural;

So to even attempt to judge part of a man,
Without giving thought to the others,
Is like trying to sing just part of a song,
It's left lacking as you will discover;

So leave the appraising to He who is worthy,
To judge on the part or the whole;
For once He's refined him the whole man is worthy,
And he comes forth shining as gold.




"FOR HE KNOWETH THE WAY THAT I TAKE; WHEN HE HAS TRIED ME, I SHALL COME FORTH AS GOLD."
                         Job 23:10
© Judy Ball  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Old Bridges Torn Down

They lie asleep
With no wheels ajar--
No turning of the sky
Awaits their doom.

Rusty is the color
Of the painted steel.
Long lost to beauty
But yet a certain charm

Reveals them to pleasure
Of the eye.
Born to support more than
Their own; lofty it seems

Above the roiling water.
Old bridge-wood knew
Rolls and rolls, uneven
Tires and spikes of steel.

Have you heard the rattling
Of the bridge through time
And times evolution being
More than clock?

Walk no more here
Where paths no longer cross,
And barefoot boys 
No longer fish with worms.

A certain flood came down
Muddy and swirling,
Logs afloat and rolling,
Bumping like friends.

Such dents appeared as to
Surprise the passerby
Who appraised the steel
And rubbed the wood.

The river was raging, raging.
Time was passing, passing,
Rolling with a certain humility
Toward uncertain breathing.

They plucked the planks
And cut the steel with fire.
They hauled away the years
And blotted out the span.
© Bill Yates  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Reality of Modern Times

In this new world, the reality of insanity
Elicits frail morality, losing deep values
To cuthroat urbanity. We thirst for quick fixes
And dismiss gentle formality although life
Grants humanity its spirit’s wholeness—
How can greed and power allow us to ignore
Kindness, simple vitality borne from Hope,
Our birthright amid mundanity? Is man’s dream
Caged in temporal inanity where success 
Is appraised by materialism or arrogant fame?
Such brutality! We forget the path of compassion
As time forges on in despotic volcanity, while
Children grow imbibing a mentality that existence
Lies in crude profanity based on self-interest…

Where is love in this equation?A doomed fatality
Of modern times , perhaps.     I wonder.


Contest: Word Challenge for Silent One
1/27/2017

I Am a Poem

I AM A POEM

Imaginative illustration
intricately impassioned
impeccable individualism
important

Accomplished arrangement
ageless authenticity
appraised actualized
alive

Perfection personified 
paint-brushed panoramic
poignant paradigms
personal

Overabundance optimized
optimistic omniscienct
oceans outshined
original

Enraptured edition
elevated endearment
effervescent  embodiment
exclusive

Magnificent meaning
meritorious muse
miraculously majestic
moral

I am a saint
sanctified by God
through His Son
Jesus


I AM A POEM

Magical Kenya's Peace

Painfully  the  heart  beats the  chest, 
Ember  of  lineal  segregation  will  come  out, 
And  the  ripping  blaze of fire  will  engulf, 
Communal  harmony  consummating  peaceful  coexistence  gulf, 
Executing  ethnicity,  caste, creed  and  religion  smithereens. 

Patriot’s  spirit  yields  serene  backdrops, 
Everyone  permanently  scribbling  down the  tales, 
And  if  we  don’t  improve  the  stories, 
Coming generations will  be  forced  to  clean up our mess, 
Ending  up  in  the  question  “what is  peace?” 

Peace  is  simply forgiveness, 
End  of  hate,  war  or  violence, 
Abstinence  of  using  violence  to  show  our  emotions, 
Calming  silence, 
Endeavor to  have  unity  in  diversity. 

Portrayal  of  Kenya’s flag  is  peace, 
Entailing  every  magic  spell  of  her  climate,  history  and  culture, 
Appraised  by  her  quick succession  of seasons, 
Culminated  by  the  gentle  sun  and  benign  rain  that softens  the  mind, 
Endorsing  peace  naturally. 



Wishing a peaceful 2017 General Elections in Kenya.

Gods Children

-Evocation-
The thunderous sound cut through the building
The deafening blast shaking its very foundation –

I jumped awake, in agonizing trepidation
And sat up in bed, my chest pounding.

There was calm, a surreal stillness.
I appraised my room’s mess
And the new cracks on the walls –
Then did I hear my mother’s calls.

‘Gerald! Gerald,’ Came her fear-caked voice.
‘Are you ok? What in God’s name was that noise?’’

She scampered to my room as I ran out
To be met by wails and anguish in the streets-
Limbs and Corpses among the grieving crowd
Blood and fright painted south and east.

The shrill sirens blaring from afar.
The weeping people holding unto each other –
There among the dead lies a friend, a child
A relative, a lover. The wails grow wild.

A block from my home the bomb had gone
Crushing many Christians, wounding dozens. 
A painful sight it was –

That was the North a year ago, where I was born.
And Boko Haram had claimed it was its course.

--------------

The erosion of Deistic Truth
The planting of evil knowledge
Have both alienated God’s children
From the voice of veracity and Religious Tolerance.

We are brothers
Who have merely taken different paths in search of salvation.
Put down your weapon brother, am not an enemy

You are Muslim. Does that make you less human?
I am a Christian. Does that make me an alien?

Human teachings have enslaved the world.
You are a Muslim, painted with many dark colors
Because Islamist terrorists have used violence to preach.
But deep within your heart I behold kindness and love. 

We humans and our teachings are deficient
But we all are God’s children
Bound for one paradise if we live kindly and justly.

Our world is dreadful enough-
Our country meek but tough.
Religion should be that bonding grace
To cleanse humanity and bring joy on each other’s face.

So, put down your weapon brother
And together, let’s work towards One Cameroon.
© NGT NGT  Create an image from this poem.

The Mortgage

There once was a mortgage bank broker 

Who sold mortgages more than he oughta

Then one day he found

With the economy down

His own house appraised way under water

Premium Member Soul-Are

Soul-are 

Is my soul conscious at this time?

No further question marks in asking
as the query is itself the answer
tentative and playful statement
of intent of letting go solutions
to a problem which is not

The conscious soul

There is an ‘is’ somewhere
out there in there and 
where they meet when 
is and when they not
No definition and it is
at the point and time
the fleeting flowing moment
ever changing change

‘My’ is longing and belonging
when the meaning wanders
me in fragments wholeness
wonderment and expectation
pondering what’s mine
possessions baggage lightness
entitlements and freedom’s safety
When I am and not am and both
and stand and fall proceed
my journey un-arrested

‘Soul’ my essence source
alone conjoined the Universe
en-lived en-storied 
told untold narration from within
without because of why
and how my circles spin
spiral radiate alive and morbid
mortal where the crossing 
exit point and destination
questions not what there if now
is after momentary permanent
impermanence for ever lasting
going gone beheld in truth

‘Conscious’ of the contradictions
compliments of contemplation
complementing opposites and syntheses
polar angles sides perspectives
hidden exposed below the surface
and above the tidal mark
of scion’s collaborated offspring
consciousness of consciousness
transcendental comprehension
and awareness of what can
can not be understood

‘At’ where at when at
is lost and found and lost again
no at without the it and as and I
attending context inconsistent
alterations wrapped in time
location in perceptions 

‘This’ that there is here
for now and when it is 
and gone just when the past
has changed from present
to the future this and 
present past and yet again
is what there is appraised
forgotten passed surpassed 
uncommented in meditation
upon reflection feeling thought

‘Time’ so much so little just enough
and left beyond the time of time
when time has come will go and stay 
forever when my consciousness
which was has gone


20th May 2016-05-16

Contest entered: Is your soul conscious at this time?

A Student's Folk Tale

Stacked with books, assiduity elsewhere
Exams knocking at hand
Yet the Friday get-go
And final cut buff. 

Night at sea and morning sloth
The evening prowl and buddy talkies
Escaped tuition and soul mate bask
Brainsick few moments
Ended with a break up.
Hearsays then bared
Eyes filled up and a hebdomad hush.

So called a fresh beginning 
They say it agone.
Acquaintances befalls
Yet the same story echoes.

Admittance time and outcome appraised 
Enough with bailiwicks, now the time to revel.
Late night parties and dearly-won snooze
Weekdays lessons and awaited weekend multiplex.

A secret dope and babbling out,
Desktop eroticas and tormented psyche 
Fags anarchic and creative smokes
Bohemian lifestyle
But forthcoming ruination.

A sudden consequence and fledged days
Thousand and one nights 
Of a student’s time of life.

The Old Bill

Bill Shakespeare is wanted for hate speech,
His study’s surrounded with tape.
The local police were slow to react,
He may already have made his escape.
There’s a chance that he’s gone into hiding
To work on the draft of a play;
Anne Hathaway helps with enquiries:
Where’s old Bill? She’s refusing to say.

She cannot abide the intrusion,
As detectives examine each sonnet,
If she pops down the market she wears a dark cape
And hides her face under a bonnet.
She’s missing the warmth of her husband,
His sensitive hands and dark beard.
She hopes that they’ll soon be together
But meanwhile, her dear Bill’s disappeared.

And Bill’s understandably nervous
’Cause writing these plays is quite hard.
He enjoys married life with his beautiful wife
And his neighbours now call him “The Bard.”
The risks of a long legal battle
Could distract him for over a year,
If the courts rule against his linguistics,
That might end his productive career.

This poem references the emotions of fear, hope and love now that historic scripts are frequently re-appraised - and sometimes condemned - against modern norms and expectations.

To Be a King For One Night

Brought back from the world of fantasies 
By the 8’o clock warning device
Raised up undesirably at a lazy pace
Retrieving the welcoming hateful whole day race. 

Jaded by the whole day lecture and ruined by assignments
Projects got to be compiled and pending PPTs
Next week’s above mentioned tasks
The lecturer did a job on my weekend plans. 

Beetling of from the blue mind
On the way back paid for a RS pint
The evening amiability
Then changed my midday adhor. 

Desirous roomie on my glass
Extended my evening all to night.
Budget hashed out and yet a penny left
Contribution counted to three
Held back for the late-night hour,
Program scheduled just after dinner. 

Prepared nuts and crisped chicken
Horror flick lappy screen and encircled auditory sensation
Filtered flake lit up and welcoming the upcoming
Pollyannaish mood. 
Three ready glasses and poured down first small pegs
Mixed with soda and measured cold drinks
Awaited Cheer up, is now appraised. 

Valueless gabs and college couple scandals
Tittle-tattle few lectures and against soul mate’s lambasts.
Last sip downed
And the empty glasses quashed.

A bit stronger second and third
And the time seems to date-back.
Bulge out blushed eyes and orbing love stain bed
Latent hostility and fags myriad. 
Enthroned activities 
Except time none to put an end. 

Deaf-mute fourth and last
Heedful sore past
Lonesome few moments and
Unenviably brought back.
A maudlin reverie expression 
To see the past back to present
If matters could be deepened 
Would endure the malign again. 

Roused up from blues and faced the benighted
Sleety mezzanine and beetle-browed breeze
Yet stood placidly 
To face the agony. 
Mere empty thoughts
And faded memories 
Seemed to calve a baseless spirit. 

A sudden wink,
Out from the world of miasmas
To a reining state –
Caught up with existing faith
A new time ignited. 

Bibulous state and duple images –
A feel to fly
And uncivilly liberty,
Did a moment time
An unexpected eternity. 

The night to welcome the dawn
And unwished obscurity nap
Impermanent few hours of morning
Lasted till…….
Retrieving once again the hateful whole day race.

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