Best Blocks Poems
It all began with a tiny spark
That quickly grew to a roaring blaze;
Its flaming arms reaching every space
Devouring all that in its path lay.
It was close to midnight, who would’ve thought
That the night would be pierced by this onslaught?
Firefighters came and with all their might fought
This treacherous foe, its destruction sought.
So we stood and watched helpless on the side
As the fire licked all the merchandise,
And as embers flew, leaving things to dust,
We clutched each other, said, “In God we trust.”
What went up in smoke in that dreadful fire?
It wasn’t just cash, for some it was life;
A new home for a family of five
Or funds for the education of a child.
We lament, therefore, this great tragedy
That will surely live long in our memory
But we'll rise like a phoenix from its ashes--
No adversity shall bend us to our knees.
March 16, 2023
Building blocks and dreams,
She's the queen of her kingdom,
Imagine Nation.
My disability builds high brick walls
Barricading the bright parts of my brain
My disability holds the inner woman hostage
While the little girl is left to run
My disability sets fire to my fears
Flames of anger and jealousy consume me
My disability prevents me from living on my own
With the white picket fence and family dog
My disability makes it impossible to love
A boyfriend or husband in my adult life
My disability reduces my dreams to rubble
With the remains of my self esteem
My disability leaves strangers around me
Confused and scared
My disability leaves my family
Asking why I don’t smile and laugh
My disability is a shovel digging in the dirt
Happiness trys to climb out of the holes
I am disabled…hear me roar
The buildings for the order….Scene light vs. blind darkness
Winds I will spirits minds body’s…All cross this vast land free
Peace does the one mind now be…Creativity flowing through
Higher and higher,
brick by brick.
Snapped together
makes them stick.
Green on the bottom
then blue, then red.
Add one more block,
take it down instead.
Maybe a white one,
or maybe a black.
Who knows how high
I can make them stack?
When I am done,
I will let you know.
So, just let me play
with my Lego.
One, two, what'll I do?
Three, four, up from the floor.
Five, six, stack them like bricks.
Seven, eight, make sure they're straight!
Nine, ten, will I go again?
Eleven...oh my heavens!
The Invisible
Framed the worlds by faithful words
For visible proof.
Dedicated to my son Caleb.
Love has perfectly filled the vacancy placed in a lonely heart
wonderfully blessing with merchandise of sensuality and eros;
emotional experience characterized by new constant fresh air
and wholly accommodated by rare affection
even while stuffed in the vacuum of adulthood.
Fooled by ones hallucinating welcome
drugged by that addictive confidence
and mind-washed by such distinctive virtues;
these feelings constantly burn every evening.
When asleep, inhale goes in with such memories
the beloved presence then becomes magical and real
greasing the gears of every heartbeat
and loosening the stitches of the day’s burdens
to satisfy the active mind and resting body all through the night
as they stretch the bands of the cheek after the morning’s yawn.
This tree that blocks the sunlight must be
felled. It's a toweringly tall tree with boughs
that conceal a generous amount of sun rays
and hides the open blue skies. Therefore...
It needs to be felled!
It turns a bright sunny day rather dim...
It's a nuisance! I don't mind birds seeking
a fleeting refuge, or nesting birds that sing
for me early in the morning, but I insist...
It needs to be felled!
It's a perpetual home to irritating squirrels
I can't keep out of my garden. Acorns noisily fall
on the tin roof! I'd handsomely pay anyone
who will topple this eyesore for me.
It needs to be felled!
It overwhelms me with dead leaves in the fall
Who knows many shooting stars I've missed?
Should I always come out to marvel at the sky?
At nature's breathtaking majesty?
It needs to be felled!
I miss seeing flock of birds in flight. I need
generous sunshine when I draw the curtains
at dawn. This tree that blocks the sunlight
tries my patience each day.
It needs to be felled!
STRAND CHOICE O,any form,any theme Poetry Contest (Winner: 2nd Place)
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
03/22/2020
*a rant poem written in real time*
Date written and posted: 04/24/2018
Building with my Lego toys toys toys,
brings my hands such joys joys joys.
Red blocks, blue blocks, yellow too,
building gives my hands something to do.
Lego blocks shaped like a bird and a tree
other blocks put together and shaped like a bee.
Lego blocks collected in a red bin
Leave the bin on the table to play again.
I am the supporting role
In an act that never ends
The part of an anxious soul
Fixing things that need no mend
And from this part I can't annul
Another's hand is not to lend
I am on my own, my lonely soul
In an act that never ends
As I take the stage that is this cage
This thought I can't control
How will I keep the crowd engaged
When I am just a lonely soul?
No feelings here to be gauged
The audience, it's filled with holes
Blocks of stone, this timeless age
For my youth it has been stole
For we are but weathered rock
Sand blown against our skin
For now we are just merely thoughts
In my head, blown with the wind
Time stands still when I watch the clock
On my face, a constant grin
On your face, the look of shock
Did you not expect that I'll surely win?
For I am solely a soul, and merely alone
What I want to find cannot be sought
All I need, to me has been shown
For my love cannot be bought
What will happen when the moon blocks the sun?
Will humanity come as one
Or will nature take it’s course?
Will we all stand as equals,
Or will one nation triumph under God?
What will happen after the hour strikes?
Maybe the world will witness and
be a part of war, sickness, and poverty.
Or perhaps the world will be under one love.
What will happen in that final hour?
Will the world be in it’s final suffrage,
With billions of lives wiped away from it’s sin?
Or maybe the kings will wise up,
And bring disaster to an end.
What will happen when the moon bloodies the sun?
Tell me what is true.
Is this natural phenomenon the sign of the last days,
Or am I thinking in a foolish craze?
Written: May 04, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Constance La France
Quote: "Let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you really love." By Rumi
**************************
Spring geckos dance amid the early dew,
Olive snuggles with dulcet dreams as mint.
A duckling settles softly in a shaded view,
Okenite feathers smoke in a dizzying hint.
Emerald drips flow over the damp meadow,
While May rain pours down, akin to arrows.
Windswept snags utter a rose-scented breeze,
A smooth swoosh paint with oakmoss squeeze.
Purple iridescence widens in spinel phlox,
Ancient songs reverberate in the grassy blocks.
With the light, a shooting star makes its way,
Dashing over a midnight black onyx display.
In the embrace of mauve marigold air,
Dandelion tufts sparkle as opals laid bare.
Whispers in the sky, drifting glare.
Blocks and Blocks
Had been walking blocks and blocks
Before arriving at voting box
For candidate we think is great
And we better not be late
Be sure to set forward our clocks.
Jim Horn
If I were t' build missen a cottage
Ad build it i' Yorkshire stooan
Ad chuyse it cos it's best thaa c'n get
betta building blocks, ther is nooan.
If I ad t' carve missen an epitaph
t' let fowk knooa who ad bin
Ad crave I Yorkshire stooan, hi,
Cos' an alternative ad be a sin.
If I wa t' delve inta me past
T' see what ad made an impression
it's likely ad fynd Yorkshire stooan top o t' list
An ad mchuyse it wi'art concession.
Wetha showin' as nature intended
at 'Ardcastle crag or int' ills
Or in t' quaary, waitin fot' delver
or blackened bi t' istory and t' mills.
Yorkshire stooan is our Yorkshire 'ome
Weeriva this gran grit is laid
Ivvery block is t' sooal of a Yorkshireman
Ivvery block is t' istort made.