Best Aspiration Poems
Aspiration
Antoine had crashed once again when tempting the desert
Freedom fighter laureate poet daredevil testing the call of
~ Poisonous Times ~
A mysterious man and rebellious philosopher with script on his
tongue ink on soft paper Rose in his heart and yearning for
~ Cleopatra’s Eyes ~
A snake of fertile creation and healing never far from his pen
Aesculapius in coil had mutated to SS wound around torches’
~ Venomous Bite ~
Aspides’s toxic fangs a spitting image of denial with thick scales
covering eyes of horned vipers hiding or shielding from attack
~ Dependent on Choice ~
The piloting scribe aspired towards kind compassionate words
As the elephant was swallowed by a boa constrictor clothed in a sad
~ Hatter’s Distortion ~
Antoine got killed on reconnaissance’s flight over France shot down or
by just letting go of throttle and misery but the Little Prince and his
~ Wisdom Remains ~
Avoiding slithering hisses in what remains of paradise an auspice
of sloughing what needs to be shed emerged from warrior’s asps in
~ Blossoming Hope ~
When threatened by serpent’s pitiless pits with no parachute attached
Peace can be found and acrimonious asperity relieved one small step in
~ Narration and Truth ~
29th April 2018
Written: January 06, 2023
____________________________________
Nighttime hypnotic dreams flow
a starry heart swirls
heavenly sequins sparkle,
gold moonlight reflects off crystal seas
an evening full of wonder
an exquisite tapestry, a secret story,
pure opal-colored mist
as you moonwalk, be astounded.
A whispered melody carries
the allure of a summer night
pearly moonlight falls on trees,
a gleaming breeze-kissed track
lucid, synchronized star trails
floating akin to a precious gem
origami nebulae with avid care,
sparks seldom appear quiet
dwarf firefly with jewel-like lights
fliers soar through the night,
exuberant filigree wings
their gentle glow soothes Void.
Amidst the mayhem, we have visions
a global canvas upholds hope
vivid acrylics fit well with warm ochres,
creativity abounds as the sun sets
the glow of a fantasy is stellar
a soft glow leads the way
glitter and dance are in sync,
Incredible for everybody
night gradually awakens
this grand adventure fuels dreams,
fireflies are lighting up our path
woods and meadows hide secrets
light reveals verdant grass.
altering the location.
Tell me of hope for the world is sad enough
Without my complaint to make it more tough;
Find new faces to give the heart cheer
And hold close all those who are most dear;
For earth knows the perpetual drain
Of persistant sorrow and unceasing pain.
Tell me of faith, for the world's better without
Your dreams of folly and melancholy doubt;
If you trust in God and not in yourself
And will be able to put your doubts on a shelf
To give peace of mind so faith can come
Then no one will mind if your mouth is dumb.
Let's speak of health, this sad endless tale
Of human troubles that are boring and stale.
You cannot win or profit or please
By harping on the dischord of stubborn disease;
Say you feel fine, the world is good to you
And before you know, it will all come true.
If I were a poet
I would pour pieces
Of my heart on pages
Paint in crystalline clarity
The anguish of my ancestors
My poems would be embroidery
Tailoring the strives
of this generation
I would write aspiration
on the mountains of mama Liberia
That her children - yet unseen
Can see and maintain our dreams
If I were a poet
I would write the dead to life
How deep can a poem be to cause a resurrection?
I would write poems so deep
Even the earth will use as its axis
I would perform spoken words
That would send you in awe
Because I would play on more words
Than any dictionary ever did
I would take the hand
Of my pen in marriage
And you would call me
Mr. Inkredible
If I were a poet
I would use my writings
To spray the fragrance of principles
As prove that if you keep
standing for yourself
You can become statuesque
If I were a poet
I would write the name of my Motherland
In every anthology I see
So that someone somewhere
Can see the beauty of my lineage
I would use words
To build skyscrapers of optimism
The truth is
I want to become a poet
But
I haven't found the right words yet
And here
we are
again,
my love,
under
one more
bullock
cart night,
devoid
of care,
ageless
in joy.
Clingy
as sand
are the
actions
of past.
Forgive,
my love,
forget
as well,
devoid
of care,
ageless
in joy.
For long
had I
raged and
hated
the tide
that took
you far
adrift.
But now,
my love,
I know
by heart
it was
leading
you to
me swift.
The man
you called,
“My love,”
my love,
was not
better
a man
than me.
He crushed
your soul
beneath
his thumb,
and noosed
the husk
with glee.
So here
I stand,
a gun
in hand,
tall at
your grave,
my love.
Crows caw
in nest
when owls
destroy,
devoid
of care,
ageless
in joy.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: 09 / 12 / 2016
Contest: Duplex
Sponsor: Jan Allison
Someday I shall fly higher than the eagle
Soar to the top of these majestic hills,
I shall breathe free and feel, oh, so regal
The sky, my kingdom, with rapture fills.
Soar to the top of these majestic hills
Where pines towering above green valleys
The sky, my kingdom, with rapture fills,
I shall reap applause with grand finales.
Where pines towering above the valleys
Reaching for the vast heavens far beyond,
I shall reap applause from grand finales
With a carefree abandon nature spawned.
Reaching for the vast heavens far beyond
I rise higher into a promising atmosphere
With a carefree abandon nature spawned,
At last, learning my reason for being here.
I rise higher into a promising atmosphere
I shall breathe free and feel, oh, so regal,
At last, learning my reason for being here
Someday I shall fly higher than the eagle.
Written August 29, 2022
Submitted to "2022 Marathon Lap 14" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
Sincere lingering
brought forth by proclivity
infatuation fondness
Flowers in mid-spring
brought forth by simplicity
you are my constant conquest
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Abrupt appetite
brought forth by fascination
devoted eagerness dwells
Sweet scent, penetrate
brought forth by aspiration
laying down while you compel
~Written By: Laura Loo~
~Date Written: March 12, 2016~
"melliflous birds are still cooing in the forest of my amber dreams " (by poet)
a gift from my father - on the first day of college,
"Golden Treasury"...A book of poetry...
the first poem I read... "She Walks In Beauty".
I carried that book throughout my life, even when I stopped reading poems...
even when poetry wasn't the priority any more,
Instead I looked at recipe-books - how to improve my culinary skills,
and became almost a champion chef in a few months.
Wordsworth and Browning were far away from my thoughts,
Coleridge? Oh No! Porphyria's Lover, and Ancient Mariner...
did not exist in my world of reality!
how many glorious summers went by ~ how many frosty winters ~
Delicious food, excellent company,
chasing after active children, stressing about job-opportunities,
exotic travels, grandiose entertainment ...
had time for every little trivial thing in the world...but no time for
the book my father imagined his daughter would embrace the most!
then one miraculous day...when even my father gradually forgot
the girl who used to blossom in the world of words, and poetry....
I found my precious friend collecting dust,
neglected, discarded, in the corner of a shelf.. couldn't believe it was waiting for me with a beating heart ~
each and every page came alive with a magical touch ~
still my name clearly visible, handwritten with my father's calligraphic dexterity !
almost shaking to spot my long-lost treasure, I cried!
overwhelmed with emotions, tears fell!
as if a candle burnt and melted.
every drop of tears brought back the lavender memories ~
of an exhilarating past... my passions, my yearnings,
tender dreams of lilac hues never attained, the abandoned path I was supposed to tread ...
a path strewn with lyrics and verses, ballads and
sonnets like blazing auburn leaves of autumn ~
now shockingly empty and despairingly barren.
the forgotten aspirations and never-met goals...the tremendous sense of loss,
of crushing heart-break, of torturous frustration,
all flooded in!
many lonely years have gone by!
melliflous birds are still cooing in the forest of my amber dreams
ultimately my first love has returned !
First Place
May 15, 2021
Inspired by “ He gave her a book” contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
~ ride your dreams and aspirations like you mean business ~
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~SUNLIT RIPPLES~ 2019
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
Submitted on December 29, 2018 for contest NEW YEAR ONE LINER sponsored by SILENT ONE - RANKED 1ST
Head touching the heavens
feet planted on earth
Jacob the Patriarch's
imagination gave birth
to a standard to reach for
grounded in worth
starstruck
yet her strong grip
on reality
One
Hallowed
Wish for all
To never walk
Lone
carrot on the grass
parrot on the olive leaves
green aspiration
Tis a grand vocation
to be an inspiration
Tis a winsome aspiration
may be an oblation
May take some time
along with perspiration
Along with dedication
may come a solved equation
Tis a winsome aspiration
may come with some elation.
Tis a grand vocation
to be an inspiration.
Copyright McCuen 2009
In the fantasizing brains of all Nigerian Fulanis,
Including their kindergarten still urinating on nannies;
All the entries and exits within country’s Aso Rock
To keep obeying their adjustable, Fulani clock!
Presently, the unstoppable aspiration of the Purest Hausa teens
Recklessly announcing the same to their napkins:
The Achilles Heel of the Brazilian Football Team,
Easily her ruinous tears commanding,
When she should a loser’s smile beam,
This, thorough Good Breeding demanding.
By the United States beautifully masked,
In her playing of Uncle Tom, enormously tasked;
Her millions of Dollars readily releasing
A loved President, the next election, losing!
To nearly every deprived tribe
Something to fight with the fattest bribe
Or surrender with a loaded gun
Making sure it doesn’t away run!
I’ve tried to The Mentality justify,
Baring a Bible verse that does it fortify…
Or so to me it had seemed
Or, probably, I has deemed…
‘The Elder shall serve The younger’…
And God must’ve, the service years, made longer!