Best April 29 Poems
spilling mother’s milk
Nature’s bounty feeds her child -
river’s youth fades fast
Susan Ashley
April 29, 2020
~ Fourth Place ~
Premiere Contest: Hi-Ku (5)
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Sitting on the cusp of dusk and evening
Placidly he ruminates where life has been
When she still believed in vibrant springs
And exulted dawning of purple mornings
Echoing exuberance of seasons’ calling
Fragile, yet colorful, as autumnal leaves
Delicate, aesthetic, as snowflakes falling--
Until she chose to surrender her dreams.
Oh! how fervently she cherished streams
Zigzagging ebulliently on their property
Digging lanes through prairies dark green,
Giggling, rushing, curving, on life-journey,
Pointing zealously, how to redirect destiny
Hosting daydreams of daffodils, milkweeds,
And tranquil bliss edifying lotus sanctuary.
Pity, neither did he feel her zestful appeal,
Nor could he allay those spaces left empty--
Between life as it is, and life that could be--
Saddled by incongruence defying harmony.
Lonesome he wailed tracing her footprints:
Cheered birds singing, doted stars twinkling,
Breathed-in her air scented with jasmines,
Buzzed in moth-passions of nocturnal winds,
Gazed deep woods where moon was rising,
And found her there, but not her meaning.
Yet, she came by, reminiscing through time,
Staying long enough, scanning the night skies--
But much as she tried, the Venus didn’t smile,
Alas! when she left, that was final goodbye.
April 28, 2021
Poem of the day on April 29, 2021
Placed 1st: This or That, Vol 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title chosen: Forlorn Hope
A feather lost glides, drifting, it soars,
In the mighty wind, it twirls and swirls, as if dancing;
Once, the People owned all the wilderness,
They called it home, now they watch it be destroyed.
There, high upon a sheer jagged, rocky cliff,
An appaloosa horse of many colors stands majestic;
There, under a blazing azure sky above,
An Ojibwa girl looks at the beautiful land of Canada.
There, in that mighty wind that roars and howls,
Eagle feathers in my hair and on my horse gently flutter;
There, below the Ottawa River thunders,
And the vast lands of wilderness stretch to the horizon.
There, above in that cloudless sky canopy,
Eagles fly, symbolizing the Peoples spirit and strength;
There, in my dream, I am one with my ancestors,
The only sound is the wind that moves the fluttering feathers.
A feather lost glides, drifting, it soars,
In the mighty wind, it twirls and swirls, as if dancing;
Once, the People owned all the wilderness,
They called it home, now they watch it be destroyed.
____________________________
April 29, 2016
Poetry/Verse/"A Lost Feather"
Copyright Protected, ID 16-783-077-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
4/1/2019, 2019 Poetry Marathon Final Placement
Sponsor, Mark Toney
Seventh Place
_______________________________
Submitted to Marathon, Mile 24
Sponsor, Mark Toney
First Place
________________________________
For the contest, A Poem Please
sponsor, John Lawless
Fourth Place
The mischievous Sandman runs a con game each night
After all the youngsters are safely tucked away
He dances into my room like an elfin sprite
He seizes my hand, tries to lure me outside to play
Then he’s bored on my shoulder at the computer
Threatens to throw pixie dust into sleepy eyes
Quells my muse like a discourteous intruder
I’ve attempted to handle him with a compromise
Just let my muse roam free for a couple of hours
For at this time of night, fantasies flow smoothly
But he feels the need to boast of superpowers
And when I ask for time, he glares gloomily
It’s three in the morning and I should be asleep
This nightly visitor has grown to be a pest
Distaste continues to grow for this pesky creep
And the sandman scowls when I say, “Give it a rest!”
*Entry for Deb’s Fantasy Land Contest
April 29, 2011
I cannot say how poems come to be-
from just one thought to full reality.
I cannot say how I hunt down my words
to image themes like nature, flowers, birds.
Or then select a form to fit the theme;
be it free verse, haiku, or rhyming scheme.
Or count the syllables for metered flow;
select the feet of two or more to show
a rhythm, smooth or anapestic dance
to make the words behave or wildly prance.
Or think I'm done, but then see that I'm not;
to then rewrite and add what I forgot.
From just one thought to full reality-
I cannot say how poems come to be.
April 29, 2016
~1st Place~
Contest: Rhyming Couplets
Sponsor: Janice Canerdy
Judged: 05/25/2021
~9th Place~
Contest: Preterition
Sponsor: Sara Kendrick
Judged: 05/17/2016
Preterition is a poetic technique: drawing attention to
something by claiming to omit it, but then really defining it
by actually saying what you claim you cannot say.
Form: Couplet / Iambic Pentameter
Little Toy Soldiers going off to war
None will ever live to see age twenty four
None of them even know what they're fighting for
Little Toy Soldiers going off to war
The world has always been this way
With Emperors and Kings
Fighting with toy soldiers
And the glory that it brings
Land, beliefs, religion
The basis of the war
fought by young toy soldiers
Who all die by the score
Time has taught us nothing
But, it's changed the way we fight
War is a full day job
Now that it is fought at night
The boards of little armies
Are now shown up on the screen
With all the little soldiers
Lit in different shades of green
They used to be all metal
Painted up in nice bright shades
With a General on horseback
Leading all his smart brigades
Then, the men were plastic
glued to bits of wood
Behaving as a unit
Just like a soldier should
Now, the war is different
They're up there in different hues
You can watch them fight in real time
Just like on the nightly news
The only thing remaining
The thing that's stayed the same
Is that nobody in power
Know the Little Soldiers names
Little Toy Soldiers going off to war
None will ever live to see age twenty four
None of them even know what they're fighting for
Little Toy Soldiers going off to war
April 29 2018
I have got no doubt twenty years from now
I’ll transform myself into fragrant air
To write rhymes as you’ll come under the bough
So fondly I’ll raise those rings in your hair
The poor guy busking in the street corner
A cloth sheet spread before him on the road
His mother is sick and he a loner
I will put him into a dancing mode
The girl planting the saplings of green rice
Is pleased as she feels me in monsoon rain
Dreams of bumper crop in her waiting eyes
At harvest she waves at me in the train
I’ll be in the moonlight on your dream grace
As you sleep out after the day’s struggle
Will move my moon-palm on your eyes and face
Have a great sleep to face the next hustle
The five basics of my body and mind
Will blend with earth water air fire and sky
I’ll look back at the orange left behind
As in your eyes the cloud of time goes by
Would there be a chance to seek any gift
Please send me back to Bengal I’d say swift
_______________________________________________________________
April 29, 2017
Note: Though I wrote it for the contest of the same name as in the title, but to my dismay I found the sponsor requires a sonnet. When I attempted to delete two stanzas to meet the need, I felt the integrity of the poem was getting compromised. Hence, for no contest.
Sailing Away Under a Silver Moon Forever
As the morning slowly awakens I see how those beautiful eyes
Of yours warmly shine bright and share thy palpable feelings of
Enchanted moments of true love and unbridled fiery emotions.
Making love to me in the depths of your sweet dreams proves to be
Quite interesting as angels fly by and giggle softly at this prospect.
Yet, as we touch, caress, and kiss deeply—your dreams are now reality.
A lively passion burns inside such loving beauty as all pain fades away,
And I know you are that special one I have longed for my entire life.
The pulchritude of your radiant presence and spirit bedazzles me now.
As we adorn one treasured pearl filling our hearts with its deep pleasure,
Our minds now connect as one, visualizing eternal dances of true love
That echo on in caves beneath our psyche sounding our mutual passion.
Sailing away under a silver moon forever is where we need to be as two
Sultry lovers and like-spirits who have eaten that sweet forbidden fruit,
And to know we shall both scale infinite heights one day into eternity.
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – April 29, 2018
(Tercet)
In this wild sea I grab the flotsam,
harshly heaved,
waves so high
that up is down and my arms fatigued.
So free
At last unfettered
And the only woe I have is:
Will my arms hold?
Will this board stay in one piece?
Will I finally immerse, drown, go down?
The night above, constellation in consternation,
in gloomy twilight dark as icy sea below.
Their light a callous last reminder.
Cold-bloodedly cruel
Once was a time
I prayed that love would salvage me,
that sea and beach
would only be there
for me to harvest shells
and sing my love in sandy painted words.
The moon a beaming mouth
of merciful compassion,
a little boat too far to reach
but comforting, lulling me to
sleep so deep, so deep.
***
April 29, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
My Supreme Goddess Thou Art
I can see Heaven clearly whilst gazing deeply in your eyes now,
Where the sweet caramel melts deliciously into heartbeats pure.
The radiant light of our eternal love dwells deep within our hearts,
As our souls are captivated by God’s aura of divine enchantment.
A nirvana fills our destiny as passionate lovers kissing softly so,
Mesmerized by the enraptured emotions we forever shareth as one.
A wild wondrous wallflower you are—shining now ever brightly,
As that angelic spirit in mortal presence on Earth by God’s hand.
Dearest one I sayeth truly now my supreme goddess thou art,
As we holdeth one another in an ardent embrace by God’s grace.
The fiery passion of our forever love is a pure beam of silken starlight,
Which bathes the darkest depths of the cosmos in a heavenly radiance.
What more can two people hope for in this world of finite limitations?
Our shared love and rich emotions form the destiny we seek with God.
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid, A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – April 29, 2017
(Couplet)
Written: April 29, 2024
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What a riddle our love was!
we embarked on an ariose trip
with balmy stride, we undertook
Elysian and Empyreal it was
a blissful encounter
an idyllic peace is meant to be,
a serendipitous path
crystal levels of azure size,
our spirits entwined
before we ever knew
we're infatuated now,
It rings with truth.
One's pulse quickens
In every kismet,
I never expected to feel this way
I have proof of that now,
In your grip, my soul resides,
and I will hold on forever
my love is growing stronger,
you are aware of the flow of time.
Our love is euphoric,
every day, I express my felicity,
for love unforeseen,
I was bestowed with a gift,
you unexpectedly invaded my life,
It spun my world around,
wreaking pandemonium
While we were together.
In awe, my heart soars, spellbound.
love is unexpected and divine.
everything came to fruition
you delight me and warm my heart,
our hearts beat in sync.
God be praised and thanked for He loves me so
He sees my heart of great awe to His name
My soul that yields to His might---He knows well
As He hears glad words* of trust from doubt's fright
His hands hoist my faith that serves by His grace.
Oh, I sing with joy; my mouth shouts blest hymns
Since the Lord* sets me in His grand best will
Full of peace, bliss, hope, I can share midst care---
His light guides my steps from snares of sin blight
Now freed from hell’s sting, I do live for Him.
*Isaiah 61:10 I will greatly rejoice in the LORD, my soul shall be joyful in my God; for he hath clothed me with the garments of salvation…
September 18, 2019
Edited on April 29, 2020
Honorable Mention, "STRAND PICK H, any theme, any form" Poetry Contest Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 4/30/2020.
In the list I saw a new contest, entitled "A Poem Please."
At first glance I thought, "Is this for real or just a tease?"
The theme for this contest was just periods-punctuation.
I'd have moved on except for contests I've an infatuation.
A string of five dots, seemingly a period after a period.
Hmm...Should I write in sonnet form, or an epic Iliad?
The challenge in this one is that I wasn't given a direction
of what to write about. It's in the hands of my discretion.
I know I've jumped off the deep end of the poetry pool
but if I turn back now, I'm sure I'll look like a silly fool.
I'm left wondering how to salvage such a pathetic start
of what could have been a poem about a broken heart.
Nah, I've written that scenario a time or maybe twelve.
Into that nether region I should no longer try to delve.
No awesome pissa will this ditty win for the likes of me.
But this PERIOD piece might make you laugh-wickedly.
NOTE: Prizes for this contest include the title of Awesome and a Wicked Pissa.
April 29th, 2016
“Is you a girl or is you a boy”, she said to him one day.
“Come over here an' stay wit' me,” he said, “You'll find out when we play!”
“No I will not play wit' you, I do not play wit' boys.
I do not like 'deir dirty face, I do not like 'deir toys!”
“I have no toys as you kin' see, my face is fresh and clean.
Come over here an' play wit' me, try not to be so mean.”
“I am not mean I'm cautious of you looking for your kicks.
I know you boys wit' out no toys make gurls do naughty tricks!”
“But wait, I do have toys,” he yelled as she turned to walk away.
“My toys are in my pocket, come here so we kin' play.”
“Your pockets are all empty, as I kin' plainly see.
So keep your fat mout' shut and 'dem big eyes offa' me!”
“Wait, wait, wait please play wit' me, we'll have a lot a fun.
I got a bat an ball wit' me, why do you have to run!”
“'Dat bat ain't made to hit 'dat ball, you can't play no game with 'dose.
Besides I'm not suppose ta' have no fun, I'll ruin my new clothes.”
“I wanna' be your friend ya' know, let's just sit an' talk.
Here put 'dis flower in your hair an maybe we kin' walk.”
“I'll take dat' walk if we just talk an' you look straight ahead,
An' if you try to play wit' me I'll bust you in yer' head.”
“Here have another flower, maybe 'dat will make you grin,
walkin' in da' moonlight, it ain't no kinda' sin.”
“I is afraid of moonlight, could ya' please hold my tremblin' hand.
Just be sure to keep in mind I ain't yer' promise land.”
“Your hand feels soft an' warm to me, it feels so heavenly.
I wish 'dat we could sit and talk, beneath 'dat chestnut tree.”
“'Dat tree is full of spiny nuts, the ground is covered wit' dew.
If we sit 'dare I'll pinch my buns and ruin my tutu.”
“'Dat tutu is such a little thing, here put it in my sack,
I got a big ole' blanket in 'dare, let's spread it out and yak.”
“Okay, but please remember I'm just a innocent tease,
I do not know about 'dose birds, I never seen no bees.”
“Thank you for remindin' me, I knew 'dat from the start.
I only wanted you to see my tacky wacky heart.”
“I'm really likin' you boyfriend, I'll stay wit' you a while,
Mom an' dad won't ever know, so now jus' make me smile.”
written April 29, 2016
I blow here in the prairie wind,
A grass that seems to have no end.
A pheasant asked me yesterday,
"How long you been here would you say?"
I scratched my blades and said, "Who knows?
Ten thousand years or more, I s'pose."
An' then the bird said,"If you please-
When were you really most at ease?"
I laughed at that, the way grass does,
That sounds somewhat like bees abuzz.
Then said,"That's easy friend, why shucks,
Between fences and pickup trucks!
The fences stopped the thunderin' herd,
An' no trucks were yet to be heard.
It was so peaceful, full of hope,
I was knee deep to antelope."
All that thinkin' got me upset -
I told that bird the trials we'd met!
"The Humans talk with grief an' scorn
Of long gone Bison and Longhorn -
Listen, pheasant, and I will tell,
The Buffalo can burn in Hell!
An' Longhorn meat will surely make
A big fat piece of butcher's steak!"
Well, I was through and I calmed down -
The Pheasant, nervous, looked around.
Said," I been eatin' a little seed."
I laughed, said,"Friend, take all you need!"
April 29, 2016