Best Based On Poems


The Craving Scoops of Cream- Based On Strawberry Ice Cream

Fresh and flavourful organic strawberries
Ground with the berries of our hearts,
Do blend with majestic creams
To celebrate this sweat-pouring afternoon
With a nice dish which feasts tongues.

This dessert is both life-giving and life-threatening;
She strengthens our heartbeats
While touching our taste buds;
And kills our precious lives
When she reaches only our eyeballs.

She is the landlady across seas and lands
For the children of sweet minds and tides;
Everytime I curate an icy day,
I believe in the right culinary recipes of her way
To carefully craft each scoop with her gorgeous grace.

Premium Member A Dedication To Panagiota Romios Based On Her Own Words- Our God Who Creates Such Great Beauty-

"How do you create such beauty. Gratefully;
So glorious high mountains;
Fruitful green valleys;
Pearl floral green aqua waters;
O God you, just you created these...
How do you Father;
How do you;
"How do you create such beauty. Gratefully;
Gracious skies blue and white;
Your spirit breathes in me;
The life you see I am thank you for making me beautiful;
And all the leaves on the trees;
All those little children running free;
All the flowers stems and petals;
At beginnings God's promises;
He left in the skies His beautiful rainbow...
Everything all everything is beautiful;
So glorious high mountains;
Fruitful green valleys;
Pearl floral green aqua waters;
O God you, just you created these...
How do you Father;
How do you;
"How do you create such beauty, Gratefully; 
O God everything you've made  is beautiful;
How do you, How do you, How do you;
"How do you create such beauty, Gratefully; 


8/14/19
Written by James Edward Lee Sr.2019©
A Dedication to Panagiota Romios based on her words

Premium Member LUMINESCENT CONFESSIONS-A Poem Based on a Song Contest

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Suspended like a cataract’s pale lens,
     *the cold-hearted orb rules the night~
          its blue-gray light pooling 
               into the hollow of his heart.
  
Fourteen envelopes stacked like unmarked graves.  
     He fingers the topmost seal, the wax brittle as hope~  
          the moon bleaching
                their blue edges to bone.  

What ghosts swim in this lunar milk? 
     No answers come~  
          only the ache of his ink
                confessing:

These are *letters I’ve written, never meaning to send~

    each a whispered confession, 
          unspoken prayers of my soul
    paper cathedrals
          built on the fault line of my heart.

     small, papery ghosts, haunted by the weight
           of unspoken things~
     each a brittle testament, 
           a love that breathes only in the amber of my memory.

     each one unfolded
           read in the stillness of lunar milk.
     each page I lift,
           the moonlight dissects each I’m sorry

     each one swirls in specks of dust 
          where your absence hangs. 
              I see your ghost in every autumn leaf. 
                  I remember our nights on sheets of *white satin. 

Silence and regret are suffocating me. 
     Come home… 
          he rewrites in paragraphs
               …till dawn bleeds gray.


Moneylender (Poem Based On Shylock; a Character From Merchant of Venice)

Moneylender 

You were rejected by your fellow man
A pound of flesh to heal your wounded pride
A just reward for squelching on a loan

Your hatred toward these men-- I understand
Burns deeply in your heart and it resides
You were rejected by your fellow man

They bully you, so now you take a stand
Measured by Scale of Justice you supplied
A just reward for squelching on a loan

You make an honest living, better than
The ones who cruelly mock; cast them aside
You were rejected by your fellow man

Losing your daughter, ducats and your land
Upon the law of God you have relied
A just reward for squelching on a loan

To write you off as evil was the plan
They persecute and fool you with derides
A pound of flesh to heal your wounded pride
A just reward for squelching on a loan
© Jesse Wood  Create an image from this poem.

Based On Belief

From vast emptiness, 
imagination is formed 
which births a substance.
  Reality is a seed of 
imagination based on 
belief which becomes a 
substance,for what is and 
what is not are based on 
belief.
   How do we really know 
if who we call siblings are 
really part of us,were we 
born with perception?
   Are our parents really 
ours?We accept based on 
belief.
Words formed are 
accepted so also spouse's 
fidelity.
   Tomorrow like a hollow 
always existing before 
birth of mankind,gives 
birth but nobody 
can grasp it's loathsome-
sweet seed.
  Tangibility of substance 
is based on belief,what 
you belief is what you 
have.
  You read my philosophy 
of reasoning based on 
your belief that it harbors 
treasures beyond 
measures-for knowledge 
isn't acquired from birth
 but on belief.
  Then what is your belief?

A Note To Self - Based On India Arie's Song - Get It Together

A Note to Self
You and you alone 
can make the change
in your life to make it
brighter! 


Self
Self you need to try a different angle
Years of trusting the wrong person
Has left you frazzled and depressed

Enough
Enough self-inflicted wounds on your heart
Cease the long waiting to exhale
Stop blaming others for your misfortune 


Change
Make a change for your heart’s health
Flip the scrip this one isn't working
You and you alone can change yourself





For Poet ~ Destroyer's contest:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QpiWkSa19eI ~~India Arie - "Get it together"


Unforgettable-Based On Silent One's Poem

One day I decided to go and sit in the park.
I sought fresh inspiration and a new muse!
My decision was the perfect panacea done on a lark.
In no way would my spirit this time me refuse!

I sought fresh inspiration and a new muse.
Out of nowhere a cynosure materialized!
In no way would my spirit this time me refuse.
My heart pounded, I held my breath, I was mesmerized!

Out of nowhere a cynosure materialized!
An angelic ingenue was walking in my view!
My heart pounded, I held my breath, I was mesmerized!
This Woman's presence stopped all of time! This is true!

An angelic ingenue was walking in my view!
Both subtle and profound glamour did she possess.
This Woman's presence stopped all of time! This is true!
Dumbfounded and speechless was I! This I do profess!

Both subtle and profound glamour did she possess.
She had a feline lissome movement in her stride!
Dumbfounded and speechless was I! This I do profess!
Bewilderment and inspiration within did collide!

She had a feline lissome movement in her stride.
A demure aura emanated as she smiled!
Bewilderment and inspiration within did collide.
My composure I tamed for this vision drove me wild!

A demure aura emanated as she smiled.
The most mellifluous "Hello!" exited her lovely mouth!
My composure I tamed for this vision drove me wild!
I floated north and simultaneously, I crashed south!

The most mellifluous "Hello!" exited her lovely mouth.
I was frozen in this most ineffable of human states!
I floated north and simultaneously, I crashed south!
Her chatoyant orbs for eyes launched me right into space!

I was frozen in this most ineffable of human states.
What would it take to keep this moment sempiternal?
Her chatoyant orbs for eyes launched me right into space.
I will never be the same outwardly nor internal!

What would it take to keep this moment sempiternal?
My decision was the perfect panacea done on a lark!
I will never be the same outwardly nor internal.
One day I decided to go and sit in the park!


WTA-IV 5/12/2016

Pantoum Form
*Written in response to Silent One's poem "Unforgettable"
with a challenge request to use the 10 following words-
Chatoyant, Cynosure, Demure, Glamour, Ineffable Ingenue,
Lissome, Mellifluous, Panacea and Sempiternal!

Limousine Ride (Based On Comfortably Numb Scene From "the Wall")

Slashed lines’ frequency extends 
Neon-freckled wormhole ride 
Unstable tide rocks the set 
Slashed lines’ frequency extends 
Ivory starlight, synthetic decay
Shape distorting abyssal cry
Slashed lines’ frequency extends 
Neon-freckled wormhole ride

Sympathy For the Devil- Based On William Butler Yeat's the Second Coming

Burning and burning in the widening grave. 
My hero ends cannot hear the hero;
Foes fall and get pulled apart, this card is centered in my fold. 

Named anarchist, as released upon the world. 
This was before blood-dimmed for every vessel, and everywhere.  
Before heaven's ceremony of innocence made my last breath drown; 

The best lacked all conviction, while the worst still stood passionate, vigilante. While god's fire intensity came crashing to the ground.  

Surely some salvation is in his hand. Surely the second coming is at hand. A second apology! Sharply these words are screamed even from my teeth.  
A demon image, my spiritus mundis is cast.  

Suddenly, my sight is bleak, and my brothers and the many others vanished somewhere in sands of the desert.  

Not a  cloud, nor sound, no bodies here in this place for me. No more man, no more woman. All set a blaze as I stand and gaze, blank and pitiless as the sun. 

Only pain and isolation, angry and animosity.  I feel this as their moving slowly down my legs and thighs.  

Brother, love your real shadows. As loyal as they are, you've shown that loyalty doesn't matter. But still I'll love you in spite of them. 

But their darkness steadily drops again. Even through twenty centuries of stony sleep, I hear your insects buzzing with sin. They are vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, and awaken I am, your rough beast, your fallen brother.  

My hour come round at last.  
Slouching I am towards the shores of Bethlehem to be once born again.

Time Flies Based On Portrait No 9, Morning At the Quay In Venice By Helen Allingham

TIME FLIES by Jeanette Jones 
based on PORTRAIT NO 9 
Morning at the Quay in Venice by Helen Allingham




TIME FLIES


Early still, I rise again. 
For the quails came calling. 
Dragging my feet, I stumbled 
across the room, to get a glimpse 
before they get to far away. 

The kettle’s on, brewing the tea, 
to place in my flask. 
Milk too for little Emily as we stroll along. 

At the edge of the bay, our four feet dangle, 
little Emily hums away; a nice beat to my 
dream. 

Small canoes, large boats with sails, 
carry me away across the water. 
Traveling up into the lighthouse, 
I look over bay, watching the workmen, 
out for the day. 

Hours pass as I gather up to leave. 
Little Emily and I, hand in hand, 
we’ve just gotten here, must we go? 

Good night Mr. Workman. 
Good afternoon Ma’dam.

Relations Based On Money

There used to be time where relations had the at most value.
There used to be times when people valued people!
There used to be times where people fought for each other!
These days we have times when people fight with each other for a penny called Money!
Values have been drained, Relations have been strained and 
Love and Affection in Pain!

Hidden Among the Roses Based On Portrait No 10, Thistle In a Field, By Fidelia Bridges 1875

HIDDEN AMONG THE ROSES 
by Jeanette Jones based on Portrait No 10, 
Thistle in a Field, by Fidelia Bridges 1875


HIDDEN AMONG THE ROSES 

This field full of roses, 
what a vision. 

Rows of primary and secondary 
colors, streaming, at least a mile. 

Among them the  solitary thistle. 

Beauty is the rose, 
its spikes as the thistle, 
that bows to hands that caress 
it with love, along the way. 

In this field of thorny ones, 
though never chosen, 
it receives a lot of love. 

Charming in contentment 
is the thistle among the roses.

Premium Member 5-36 Based On the Song - River - Joni Mitchell

Just give me a frozen river
So I could skate away
Then give me a minute more
Tell you how I feel today

I live here in a verdant land
We never do see snow
So I'll make a lot of money
Then to another place I'll go

I want to see the snow in Winter
See the bright clothes people wear
Join the fun of Halloween
Have kids give me a scare

I had a man I thought I loved
I know he loved me more
But when he got to know me well
He near flew out the door

I now have lost a lover who
Was gonna worship me
Put it down to bad behaviour
And undue jealousy

So if I could find that frozen river
Skate with sorrow in my heart
Maybe find him once again
And make a brand new start

Mice and Me Based On Portrait No 8 L'Enfant Au Tablier Rouge, 1886 By Berthe Morisot

MICE AND ME by Jeanette Jones (01.11.2016)
based on PORTRAIT NO 8
L'Enfant au Tablier Rouge, 1886 by Berthe Morisot



MICE AND ME 

Inside my lonely room, I dream. 
Old man winter’s stamped his mark 
across the fields and mountain tops. 

The faint breeze through my window, 
allows a brush of his presence on my face, 
this makes everything ok. 

Scuffling across the floor, tiny mice 
whimper in the same sultry air; 
an old soul, mom calls me, 
for allowing them here, 
to dream in my space and share my air. 

To reach the sill, 
I allow them to climb my red ribbon,
 if they can catch it in the wind.

The a Capella Pirate By Based On Portrait No 6, Theater By Mary Cassate 1879

THE A CAPELLA PIRATE by Jeanette Jones 
based on Portrait No 6, Theater by Mary Cassate 1879 



THE A CAPELLA PIRATE

Be it Pirates of Penzance or H.M.S Pinafore, 
it never really matters. 

His bombastic swaying of her in 
his arms, always convinces 
his crowd of his charismatic charms.
 
His licentious embrace and his 
liquescent voice envelopes all. 

The ruffles on his blouse, I image them, 
the ruffles on my face. 
It is only the ruffles from the fan 
in my gloved hand. 
As the orchestra peaks at Sullivan’s 
instructions, his audience leaps 
to their feet. 

Not me. 
I’m waiting for the music to cease.
 
I sit patiently within the darkness; 
our eyes finally meet.
 
Pandemonium treachery is evaded as 
the music ceases; 
he serenades me 
a cappella.

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