Best Beginning Poems
with each crest of a wave
forming white crystal peaks
she weeps, inhales, let's go.
beneath a star studded vista
a resplendent guiding light
arms open, palms up, she is free.
the soothing sea winds
carrying away her grief and sorrow
hands posed in devotion, she smiles.
in a seascape of serenity
her baptism place of choice
she steps forward, her new beginning.
02-17-2017
No end where love's found
no beginning, though there must've been
I can't recall, seems it was always there
going on and on..
No life better known, restless like the forest
hearts awaken at new sight and sound
teasing I see, so pleasing..
two corners lifting at your mouth.
You can go on now, find me..
the place you always knew
waiting, silent as a stone
body and soul lost to you.
A place with no beginning
no tomorrows, nor sorrows
we'll leave them at the gate.
Oh my love, I can't breathe,
can hardly bear the wait.
I open my door to a brand new year,
and take a first step with jubilant glee;
a new beginning- want to jump and cheer!
Of all past luggage I plan to be free,
as blissful as a song bird in a tree;
as buzzing joyfully as a spring bee.
Snowflakes are falling to caress and kiss,
on a park pond ducks still drift, oh delight;
I am joyful for a scene such as this!
When I let nature inside it feels right,
whether it be summer or frozen white;.
even if spring or fall- or day, or night.
With my new year energy I am thrilled,
I plan to smile, to laugh, and with joy sing;
gloating - resolutions will be fulfilled!
I am in rapture over the whole thing,
to this fun awesome journey I will cling;
even, when sad sorrow threatens my wing.
I will rise above all weeping sadness,
and will be full of jubilant madness.
__________________________________
January 4, 2019
Poetry/Urban Sonnet/New Year - New Beginning
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1101-018-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Jubilant Joy
sponsor, Chantelle Anne Cooke
First Place
The dulcet larks in oak trees bring a smile
On cue, here comes the sun melting the grey
I walk you down the garland-bordered aisle
So Mom and I could (quote) 'give you away'
One poem ends and one begins today
Thousand and one Nights
Gothic and Romanesque rose
I call to the Earth
The Moment has come
The Choice is no longer mine
By goodness and Love
01.01.2016
A-L Andresen :)
Somewhere in midnight’s nocturnal hallways
As the chill settles down with starlight
While the world stands silent in waiting
There abiding with his flock walks the shepherd
Hopeful in thought and yet weary of foot
He moves his charges through the bite of night
His hope in the coming dawn lifts his burdens
Filling his minds eye with warm musings of tomorrow
In tones they beseech the day and challenge darkness
But through this constant cycle of shine and shadow
The guardian of the flock stands steadfast and waits
The promise begins as His voice appears cherubically
Falling in fear and praying for strength of faith
The radiance in the sky softens ever slightly
Speaking of the vow and announcing the messiah
Who brings the world a love and a hope yet tasted
Tremulous breath’s as the promise is spoken
Awing the greatness with a loving and respectful fear
Silent in belief beholding the coming miracle
He stirs the somnolent flock down the slopes
To bestow upon all the gift of this divine hour
His breath brittle’s the final icy moments of dusk
He labors the trail with renewed strength of heart
Proclaiming hushed gratitude within every step
A beacon of brilliance converges in the heavens
Beckoning his faithful west toward little Bethlehem
Dropping to his knees his face wetted in thanks
Finally understanding what is gripping his soul
He sees the precarious pathway laid before him
Though he has journeyed into the unknown before
None had brought with it a promise so precious
willows weeping
white doves wail
wild wind blowing
black clouds sail
broken dreams
torn and tattered
tomorrows hopes now
trashed and shattered
dying love
don't give up
pray to god
and be tough
Written June 13, 2016
We all have a blank page
We have a story that we are writing and
Starting over is a gift so do not fear a new beginning!
There is always a cure in life
So remember that you can thrive in the season of despair!
Clearly, we know that life is not fair
But will you dare to stand in the mist and
Persist with the glory of your story!
History shows us the commonality of life
So take the knife of joy and cut away the fear!
The element of change is to keep your destiny alive
Life will rearrange itself
Because you must be kept on track!
Your life will inevitably change
Bringing on the reality that every man and woman
Will attend the academy of transformation!
The anatomy of a season will spring forth new life in your heart and
Darkness will appear as light and night as day
So start over and do not fear a new beginning!
Mark Frank
Copyright 2022
As the morning breaks and day begins
The sun ascends to the sky
A whole new day is born again
Like the billions that have done gone by
The sea waves crash into the rocks
As they have done since time began
And soak the sand on beaches
And to the sea they’ll return again
Forest covered earth is home
To a million animals and plants
That live and feed off of each other
The circle of life is constant
The sky filled with every kind of bird
A breathtaking view it is.
As life goes about its own way
For millions of years like this.
Then God created a different type
Of animal that came to be
The ruler over all the earth
He would name every plant and tree.
God would call his creation man
He would live in paradise
Then create woman from mans rib
They’d walk side by side.
Bound to God and Gods rules
And never to eat from the forbidden tree
But man being man being tempted
His desires would be set free
As they ate the forbidden fruit
Their minds began to see
Their innocence had disappeared
Their lives changed dramatically
Cast out from the Garden Of Eden
Man and woman had to make their own way
They were given a shot at paradise
But like man they threw it away.
I've been trying to fill this hole deep inside my chest.
I promised I plead but you still left like all the rest.
So here I sit once again I’m all alone.
You won't even send a text to my phone.
This is where I fail to stay strong.
This life of mine starts to go wrong.
I took my lighter and fired up the brass.
I applied heat to get the bubble in the glass.
I heat the rock and watch it melt down.
I'm all smiles in the happiness that Ive found.
Before I knew it im drawing from out of the spoon.
One, two, blastoff soon ill be higher then the moon.
You get that little burn in the back of your throat.
Hang on cowboy cause you just hit some bomb dope.
Then comes the ringing in your ears.
Just sit back and all your worries and fears simply disappear.
Don't worry about the lights fading in and out.
That's the dope coursing through your veins ya your high no doubt.
The color will leave your eyes.
Your body engulfed in the warmth of a million butterflies.
But now the demon has got you like a needle to thread.
Welcome to the struggle cause you got to keep the demon fed.
Now we've been up for nights and days.
Given up hope we succumb to her ways.
When she leaves you she leaves you feeling dead.
You can't silence the voices screaming inside your head.
Now you just look for the next high.
Cause without that demon you wanna die.
People will wonder where have you been.
It's no secret with those track marks up and down your skin.
Now you will know new lows.
It's a sad story but thats just how it goes.
Now your alone and feel so close to death.
Just remember who did this her name is crystal meth.
Now if you could relive that day.
When your pal held out that needle tell what would you have to say.
The story I have to tell- was told long ago to me,
About the creation of the Potawatomi Nation;
In the beginning the Creator made Anishabe,
And the Creator told Anishabe to name all of his creations,
Anishabe set out with a wolf, his companion,
And he went around naming everything;
From the mountains and the canyons,
To the Summer and the Spring;
He became lonely realizing, he alone had no mate,
And as he traveled everywhere searching,
He traveled towards the Great Lakes;
And there he heard a woman singing,
Her song was a thing of beauty,
About the home she was making for them;
Anishabe crossed the lake to meet her, finally,
The daughter of the Firekeeper-And quite a gem
Their’s was the first unity bond, It is where life came from;
Of each other they were inordinately fond;
Their union gave life to four sons,
Each of their sons went a different way,
The First son traveled North, it’s color is White, henceforth;
Given the first gift of the Creator-sweet grass-braided in a bouquet,
He married the daughter of the Spirit of the North;
The second sun traveled East, into the rising sun,
He learned that fire is the essence of life;
He was given the second gift-herbs to speak with the One,
East is the color Yellow, East’s daughter became his wife;
The third son traveled South, known as “The Way of The Woman”,
The way of seeds and all that give life, the color of South is Red;
He was given the gift of cedar-to purify and prepare food for his clan
And to the daughter of the Spirit of the South he was wed.
The last son traveled west, towards the mountain highlands,
He learned that the setting sun represents the circle of life;
Black is the color of West-Sage was the gift for his hands,
Married to the Spirit of the West’s daughter, Black stands for strife.
This is the story of the Creator, That my Grandmother told to me,
How my culture was started, And what our banner means.
~I've been holding on to this a while-Hope you enjoy the beginning of my culture~
~3rd Place in the "Broad Horizons" Contest by Deborah Guzzi~
If I forget, remind me of how things used to be.
Before the fall of man.
Before I hired myself as his assassin.
When I start shaking, remind me why I have nothing to fear.
That life won't go the way I planned.
That I'm much better off not caring.
So that in the end I will remember how this all began.
Retrace my steps. Find out what went wrong.
And make it right again.
My father was a Poet in his bygone days
there were his ‘Ode to a Kite Hawk’ and poems on Indian ways.
He wrote of love for Mother and of David too
there were his words of Christian faith and a prayer or two.
When I used to know him before he sadly died
he would show his poems to me with modest pride.
But I was too young to see the light, of the seed he’d sown in me
at that time, I did not take to words of poetry.
Then one late November day as I sat there in my room
I heard on the radio someone sing words to a classic tune.
My head was suddenly full of words running around in rhyme
could it be the seed he’d sown had found its harvest time?
Now, I’m just beginning, in this moment of time
to see if I can also write something down in Rhyme.
I’d like to think the way he wrote now lives inside of me
and I too can write some words in verse like him as poetry.
Backwards became forward
Up became down
What I thought was square
Turned out to be round
Some who I thought loved me
Turned out to be foes
Twelve dozen roses
Not absorbed by one nose
I could see in the dark
Became blinded by light
When I should be afraid
I was feeling alright
A topsy turvy world
Never knowing what to expect
Even when I had earned it
I couldn't seem to find respect
I climbed many ladders
Slid down my share of snakes
Learned more by losing
Lived with my mistakes
The top was the bottom
My ideas flipped around
Transformed by heaven
Prostate on the ground
With my head bowed low
My heart became clear
What seemed a great distance
Was actually quite near
For within my smallness
I discovered what was vast
The future had been written
By the Author of my past
Things I counted as sorrow
Revealed to me my joy
I could not become a man
Without living as a boy
My end will be my beginning
When I am raised from the earth
What some will consider death
Will turn out to be my birth
For I have been forgiven
Without paying any cost
Thankfuly my Savior found me
Long before I knew I was lost
In the beginning God said let there be light
Then God said, let there be poets
Then God said, let there be light poetry
Then God said, let there be all kinds of poetry
Then God said, let the poets multiply
Then the earth was full of poets
Hundreds of thousands of poets
All in hot soup!
Poor God now
He can not read all this fine poetry
There are billions of them
Multiplying like the stars in the nighttime sky
Then on the seventh day
God said, I need a break, and he went to the bar