Best Bounds Poems
Where on Earth or far beyond do we poets go, you ask.
My thoughts willingly stretch my imagination with this task.
I would reply...in any direction our ink chooses to flow.
To the light of dawn or to dark telltale shadows of Poe
There are no boundaries that could rein in a poet's mind,
even if we have the mournful misfortune of going blind.
A poet is not harnessed by sight like a horse to a carriage.
From memory our vision serves us in a sort of marriage,
a bond without rings and vows that gives us wings to fly
among stars, or to realms a common man cannot descry.
To know sin's sorrow, we would walk through a fiery hell
if it would give us the insight that living could not quell.
Inspiration is our weapon, feathered arrows we shoot,
aiming for the rhyming words and chasing in hot pursuit.
Though our muse flees, and crumbled pages lie at our feet,
our mind struggles in unrest but will not concede defeat.
On ventured missions, traveling where our hearts will lead.
Among distant galaxies, where we collect poetic seed
to plant in fertile delta land or in sandy deserts on Earth,
cultivating cogent lines, to which our scribing gives birth.
Fathering or mothering verses from infancy to fruition.
Editing until at last, our brainchild is worthy of submission.
We see far beyond mundane realities of life and reason.
Writing from the heart, rebuking the penalty of treason.
We wind through mazes of each personal poetic anecdote.
Exposed is our nakedness in each lyrical line we ever wrote.
June 20, 2022
2022 Marathon Mile 4 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney.
I like you but I know we are impossible
The thoughts of you are unreasonable
You'd never look at me that way
No matter what I think or say
You are what I call rare
Is it because you show that you care?
Is it cuz you show good friend qualities
Now let me think of the possibilities
Me and you might never be
Because a friend is all you see
Wishing that things werre different
If only you knew what I meant
OUTSIDE THE BOUNDS OF SISTER CECILIA
the best firecracker
otherworldly seven hues
hiss, cackle, kaboom
Yes, dear ones, I want to own a pen that produces perfect penmanship, the curlicue calligraphy that Sister Cecilia would have hated. Each color, as my mood dictates would jettison from my mind to paper as a musical note, with hieroglyphic fervor. In unity and uniqueness as my lyrical words ignite each heart…each pen imparts the idea that never ends, heart to heart, light and dark, dear poet.
breathless, eternal
wax that never defuses
its bittersweet light
I can hardly stop to cross the t’s and dot the i’s. You, dear loves, like stars grab on - you little prince(s)! You travel light with faeries and dragons light as silk and mighty as giants. We muse together through the galaxy and time. In Athens, we sit down a moment to hear Saint Paul say, “For in him we live and move and have our being. As some of your own poets have said, ‘We are his offspring.’”
baptism of seeds
in the only plot we know —
glorious setting
inner poet can’t contain
as we head out of the grave
Sincerely, as we begin our journey, it never ends — it goes on and on with friends. Sparks fly - serious, silly, frolicking, frenetic and holy.
let not ruler scowl -
repeat curlicues fifty
times to accomplish your dreams
11/30/2021
Haibun- With A Message
Sponsor: Charles Messina
(Dedicated to those who have found true love
for the very first time)
My love for you knows no bounds
It is a love that I've longed for every single day of my life
But until we met, I thought it was out of my reach
It has happened, that love I've longed for has happened
My whole life is upside down, in utter turmoil
I know this love can never be but I'm utterly enthralled
This passionate lady has me by the heart strings
Feel like a helpless teenager experiencing love for the very first time
Oblivious to things going on around me
Totally and hopelessly consumed by this obsession
Where is it all leading?
Are we destined to exist in this world of utter frustration
Or will we someday somehow meet in person
And our love and desires be fulfilled
A living dream but a dream that keeps me alive
Alive with the hope that dreams sometimes do come true!
My love for you knows no bounds
© Jack Ellison 2014
Twenty score years ago, and some
The evil merchants crossed the waves
Gleeful as they raped and pillaged
Their cargoes of dark-skinned slaves
En route to the land of Liberty
Where all men are created equal
In their most frightening and wildest nightmares
They could never have envisioned the sequel
After four centuries of hatred, violence and exploitation
Against the human chattel who built this nation
The values upon which America was built
Would overcome its culture of greed
On the backs of unknown, unsung masses
Who bore the burden of long labor and whips lashes
And the prayers and Faith of prophet preachers
Came a man, half black, half white…
A new breed leader
Who dared to believe against all odds
That he could unite these United States
Seen only, perhaps, by The Dreamer…in ‘68
Who could have known our country’s fate
For the first time, truly, since 1776
A Golden Opportunity For Unity exists
That all Americans could possibly be One
Our new president alone cannot get this done
This is for you, for me, for we, for us
E Pluribus Unum, from many – one...
If God we trust?
Copyright 2009 Iger Rolyat All Rights Reserved
Volition, orientation familiarization aahing
and oohing within restrictive paradigm molding
inviolable honorable gentility -
flagrantly, desirously, clearly boyz abandoning
willfully skirting, panting (heavily)
forfeiting abominably, (no Joe King) abiding
chomping at bit, damning delineated, or obscure
parameters, between one acceding
Earthlinked selfish living
psychosexual pining human bing,
and another ardently avowedly ambitious
altruistic agent provocateur (lol)
at first blush hinting Moulin Rouge adulation
under dim (witted) lighting accenting
individual randy salient
traits savoring tête-à-tête
tasty hors d'oeuvres accentuating
nuances highlighting flirtatious countenance
initially unconditionally stubbornly accepting
dire hormonal straits
as prickly fledgling acquaintanceship
quivers, negotiates, kickstarts abolishing
inchoate biochemical protracted coupling
conveniently interpreting accessing
breeching, catapulting Dickensian estuary,
non verbal communication nsync abridging
painstakingly erecting complex edifice
suavely, urbanely, wittily accessorising
tried and truevalue tricks acclaiming
debonair heroic manliness princely
qualities dutifully dominate directing
demure damsel in distress absconding
convincing, foreplaying, jimmying,
rollicking readily acclimatizing
challenges thrust up gracefully parlaying
most savvy serious similarly sophisticated
totally tubular testosterone tactics
versatile repartee accomplishing
dynamics cultivating atavistic romantic ballet
on duh poe whit tick abutting
metaphorical foot accoutering
trappings adorned since mythological
Adam and Eve accrediting
latter, sans virile unavoidable temptation
savoir faire verboten fruit, accelerating
action whereby unsuspecting, slithering,
lurking serpent teen accounting
rattle unheard by apse cent church fathers
subsequently excoriating, condemning, accusing,
nonetheless indomitable transcendence achieving
pinnacle of prostrate poignancy
inexpressible ecstasy acquiescing
nonpareil acquisition adulation activating
ascendence assaying administering
amorousness activating. aching.
Bounds
Over and entercircled, grasping tighter and tighter
Penetrating the lines of my eternity
Orbiting to seize all that I have left
Desirous for more
Neverending infliction
No slumber shall I ever have
Until the bounds are pacified
How can I claim what I can not see?
The preference of bounds has no favor
Engulfs the crease of all
Seeping in uncannily
Until it devours it feast
Few can sustain the bounds to a hault
So I, I shall embrace the bounds and and create a solemn place
Cultivating what story I have been given
Turning destraut into purpose
And purpose into distinction
By:
Tammy R. Flanagan
years gone by
a scatter of memories
and in your eyes the shadow
of what once was
do you sometimes
flash back and remember
where we once landed
who we once were and
what we meant to each other
time won't fade away our past
still i vow to stand by you
and love you enough for two
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on March 8, 2025 to contest BREAK THE SILENCE sponsored by INK EMPRESS - Honorable Mention
Hold On Tightly, When Life Takes Its Great Leaps And Bounds
Hold on tightly, when life takes its great leaps and bounds
this old blue marble is not all sweet virgin ground
strewn about are horrendously nasty pitfalls
awaiting the fruits of world's constant tempting calls
to dive right on in and never mind the dark sin
after all, are we not modern, enlightened men?
As wise, old philosophers great advice once gave.
" Be wise now, for waits only a dark lonely grave".
Hold on tightly, raging world ever faster spins
as its current master, the dark one sits and grins
but modern man believes not in such fairy tales
or an afterlife, or chasing a Holy Grail
so dive right in, these waters are so very fine
and on your new, bright golden plates you too shall dine!
As wise, old philosophers great advice once gave.
" Be wise now, for waits only a dark lonely grave".
Robert J. Lindley, July 02, 2022
Rhyme
Note:
This is a heavy rewrite of a poem that I composed back in 1977,
at age 23 and after going through a very troublesome time in my young life...
AS TIME MARCHES ON
every older person without a doubt
has a spark of youth that screams to get out.
too old to dance all night without a care
or risk doing damage you can never repair.
too young to feel I’ve grown any more wise
too old to have few things come as surprise.
your hair thins, time affects your physique
the aging process is not for the weak.
when the beauty of youth that you have known
is replaced with something all of it’s own.
Who ever said you’re as young as you feel?
those numbers on paper look pretty darn real.
never stop laughing cause you’re growing old
‘grumpy’ makes you age faster I’m told.
old enough to realize that time passes fast
young enough to still dream, dreams of the past.
although my life song is partially sung
I’ll never forget what it’s like to be young.
Liz Reilly
The only thing
More frustrating than
Ignorant people,
And their rush to prove
Themselves as
Such by their own words
And actions, is
The fact that, despite your
Attempts to help
Clarify it for them, they will
Never, ever see
ThemSELVES that way ...
It makes you strain
To imagine just what kind
Of people THEY
Consider as ignorant, and
On and on and on ....
Ad infinitum.
** 3rd Place in the "What Annoys You Poetry Contest", Frank Herrera, Sponsor. **
What bound my soul is as hard as bromite
i might not be so intricate with words
i leave sixth sense condescending
my metaphors absolutely power driven
you'd be using Greek mythology if you tying to describe me
like a deadly earthquake i erupt your souls from poverty, exacerbate your minds so you can think properly
while other Emcees dig with mics that are temporal i rock with heavily monumental rhymes and mics that are deadlier!
looking for what bounds my soul is like looking for what bounds Ethiopia and Biafra
Hip Hop is my game
what! Hip Hop is my name!
i write for every black child, black magicians, black slavery and black myth
it was i who spoke about gentrification
i spoke about killings in Africa and poor girl education
Hip Hop educates every black quixotic child
saying to them; be idealistic and practical
the power that i speak of is truly magical
dangerous, nebulous magnetic resonance
what bounds my soul is rocking shows with steady mics
steady rhymes and steady vibes
This is Hip Hop
and it shall not be televised
Ilene took an hard look at Dennis
Whose shorts were designed to play tennis
Though he beamed with pride
His balls bounced outside
Perhaps he should try serving Guinness!
through the dark of night
a true chapion will arise
a setting suprise
There once was a man called Boris
Who loved a wee deoch an' doris
Whether his tipple was whisky or brandy
Foreign affairs made him peculiarly randy
When he indulged in extra-marital coitus