Best Bran New Poems
September hues of school day smiles and bran new leather bags
creative minds as young as baby figs with eager hearts of lore
My days were full with mischief makers and bragging scalawags
but as the evening fell it was dad and I and paper planes galore
Lined creased papers pressed against father's smoky fingers strong
a wide tooth grin that said it all, while folding them in Ludwig style
Symmetrical wings shaped at the edge to fly through standby throng
inside a backyard airfield 16x24, .. we launched then bridged a mile
One was shaped like a prayer mantis one was fashioned like a jet
homework waited as we glided through a glide-path then a runway
Aerobatic landings that were much more thrilling, then a Lego set
oh the wanders of those days when we both knew, how to play.
August 13, 2022
Sponsor John lawless
Contest Name PAPER AIRPLANES
HABITS
We wake up in the morning,
Our memory, collecting storing,
The same data over, and over again,
It becomes entrenched – a habit is due,
What triggers habits, just a simple cue!
We pass a highway that we know well
And put our car into cruise mode, swell,
This is routine, and we follow this road
For there is a reward,
We will shortly arrive at a place,
To which we associate a particular face,
And we store this for it feels good,
We now have adopted a habit,
That’s understood!
A repetitive gym advert
On TV, is yet another cue,
We lace up our sneakers, lay out our
Clothes, kiss husband goodbye
So long Hugh!
This has become routine,
For in a week or two
Our reward is due,
We will feel bran new
When we stand on our scale,
Which now tells a new tale!
A few more kilos you will
Have shed, we love this new
Routine, wow it is working
And without even shirking,
One gym lesson, we love the reward,
We once hated gym,
Now we never get bored,
And besides feeling healthy
We make our lives lengthy.
But some habits beware,
Cause strain, so refrain,
For these habits try to engulf
Us with guilt,
But our willpower will
Overpower guilt, if well built,
Willpower is the conscious mind,
And alerts us if we intend,
To be unkind,
So hurrah for the conscious,
We heartily cheer,
But the unconscious is
What brought us here,
To crossroads between the two,
Everyone differs in their view.
We must therefore
First think everything through,
For we adopt habits by
Storing more information,
And progressively throughout,
Each generation,
Embrace many a new habit,
But sometimes
Just do not grab it!
Psychiatrists forge forward
What a dilemma,
To find answers, neither
Altered or awkward!
Wrote this poem after having read he Power of HABIT by Charles Duhigg.
o youth,where did you go
those yesterdays,still glow
pure white,as virgin snow
whose face is this I see,
is this really me;
where,where did youth flee
inside,still seems bran new
my youthful outlook,stays
albeit,passing days
a future lies ahead
beyond the grave,He said
the narrow path,to tread
in a resurrected body,new
for what I did for you
quatorzain-free form sonnet
“You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens.”
Rumi
It was the summer of 1967 and the sun was almost bran new
me and Tony L. skipped to the corner to raid the candy store
sometimes we bought a paper bag full of small penny candies
other times it was a fancy box, full of Cracker Jack popcorn ...
We grew up like sleuths on 2nd Avenue by the rubble of Miron
sludging through dried clay and playing with colorful marbles
As we played with washed up marbles, we grew up in time
laughtering our days until the sober rays of adulthood arrived
No one will ever forget that place on St. Michel dear bro,
it was where the pine tree grew, when life was spanking new
all the prizes that we won, are still laying on the concrete floor
Written by : Mystic Rose
Upon your wings of crystal blue
a morning drop of dew
although the sky is watching you
you know, I am there too
Oh dragonfly of love, how do you do
I wonder as I sit and rue
about the things I never knew
and all this beauty, oh so new
Of all the sanctuaries of the world
you chose the one that has been pearled
by an artist's loving hand unfurled,
I am beholden to, things I have unlearned;
In this moment I appreciate the beauty
of a simple thing, that draws me
at the edge of dawn I am always free
to dance with this dragonfly and just be
Upon a sky of crystal blue a dragonfly wing of every hue,
although its made of old glass, every day feels bran new.
Written by: Mystic Rose
Inspired by: Susan Jarrell
I'm going to keep writing regardless of the outcome
I'm going to keep clicking my keys and my mind
I'm going to create from nothing what I need
I'm going to give it all I got, cuz its what I do !
I will share my thoughts whether you like it or not
I will give you the best of me, and you decide
I will not be a cower in face of gossip and quarrel
I will not fold just because you think I'm too much
I'm going to write like a true writer until it gets dark
I'm going to write in the sun like a bard of old and win
I'm going to share my light with others using only words
I'm going to be the girl I was born to be, tall tales are free
I'm going to entertain you with words and phrases from ?
I'm going to sparkle like bran new cutlery, be it fork or spoon
I'm going to serve it to you every day with a smile
I'm going to be a poet whether you like it or not
I'm going to keep writing regardless of the outcome
I'm going to brave it and write until the day is done.
Jump Start (( collaboration * SUSAN BURCH ))
by~ Poet D:
How did it come to this?
You and me down memory bliss..
Some where in between losing my self ..
I misplaced the dust remover off my shelf..
Now I will march on like a cheerful parade..
Smiling my big pearly whites, as you begin to fade...
I disguised the use, when you called me a broken down car..
Adjusting all the plugs under my hood, I reached in to far...
.
I touched and fondled every mound and tendency inside of me..
All my heart needed, was a bran new battery..
I found my own cure, reviving my broken heart disease..
Blocking the sunburn from jumping of my heart like a trapeze..
I got rocks stored in my pocket, that came with a guarantee..
Sustaining weight on my weakened knees, reassuring me warranty
***by~ SUSAN BURCH
That I will get through this, without you to drive
I have a map of the world, traced on my thighs…
You may have held the moon, but not anymore
There are millions of galaxies for me to explore …
Once I face the dark and horrible truth
That I didn’t like who I was, with you…
That’s why I shouldn’t be starving, for your attention
When all you gave me, were paltry inventions…
Instead I’ll wave bye, at my shriveled heart’s cost
And immediately stop sniffing, our love’s exhaust…
In time you’ll be nothing but a tumbleweed
A random thought I won’t even keep…
When I’m fully restored, you’ll be left in the dust
And I’ll be stronger than I ever was …
A Collaboration *Susan Burch
~MY COLLABORATION CONTEST~
SUPERIOR – not the lake
To me there are no persons drearier
Than those who think themselves superior,
Think everything in life that they do
Is a little, no, MUCH better than you (do)
She didn’t come right out and make a claim
Not sophisticate was to give it name
As example – I mentioned my dentist
Hers, compared to others by far the best
Sadly, my doctor’s name, somehow, came up
Hers had won the Johns Hopkins world class cup
When I mentioned housing she had a ball
When compared to hers, the Taj Mahal was small
Dare I mention our Jeep parked in the back?
She’d boast of her three bran new Cadillacs
Fed her dog ‘Vet’s Laboratory Test’
Even claimed her Fido’s droppings were best
Then, one day –
Joy! When they had to call an ambulance -
Her chronic case of painful flatulence
Say hello to June, come greet each floral scent that fills your hearts and noses
it is time to put away your winter garbs & lose yourselves in leaves and roses
June, a month of gentle starts as the days get longer filled with golden light
we oft renew our garden vows, planting seeds of joy wherever we go
"Oh! Flowery Month of June, sing to us a song of hope & gentle care,
as you lead us through the garden path of life with truth and dare...
With each rising bran new day comes the promise of a new tomorrow
help us embrace the moments that come to us without deep sorrow
Goodbye May Hello June, like those lovely strawberries I see grow in June,
I am longing for serene enchanting nights, beneath your strawberry moon.
In my twilight years I have grown silver,
weaved inside my hair and aging thoughts.
It reminds me of the first time I saw a star
beneath the first aurora hint of a bran new dawn;
All the firsts of my life have been sifted
like panned up gold between my fingers
Sieved through, held brief and then let go
inside this aging heart the memory remains ;
I once was ever altered like the shades of my hair
today I'm much more constant and alert
as I watch the passing storm from my window
I feel like a lamp post blazing in the snow
Lit up at dusk and closed after dawn
I feel like an iron metal post, though I am water,
holding up a dam of love inside my soul,
for all the ones I love, loved and continue to love.
Your Vienna
Wake up America,
Arise from your slumber
Media has desensitized your minds
We live in a new world of technology that has made you colorblind
Meaningless, with deeper meaning
Music lyrics have been subconsciously stealing
While you think it’s the beat you are feeling
Listen to the words and then tell me if it’s still appealing
Even Movies have brainwashed your judgment of what’s ok
Too many people are sitting back, watching our ethics slip away.
The Government has helped us all too simply learn to accept
While gradually breaking down the family structure, many have just slept.
No longer can we allow these planted seeds of lies to continue to grow
This is real reality, not some entertainment show
Our children are not aware
That their future is in for a scare
Our youth are looking for role models and leaders
They have become susceptible to idolize bottom feeders
Wake up America,
We need a real change
Bring back integrity, morals and stop being estrange
They keep us busy in televised drama
Currently immune, with no proper armor
While people are starving and walking around half alive
They are plotting our nation’s permanent demise
Sex trafficking is at a an all-time high
Wealthy men are raping young girls in America and when they are done with them they watch them die!
Poverty and greed is causing drug dealers to lead
A generation of angry lost young man
Creating baby’s that start the cycle again
The more eyes that now see
The more we can be
Brought back to truth and sanity
The rich are getting richer and the working class have grown tired
Democracy is being set on fire
You may question what you can do
If everyday each person changed just one view
We would be able to recover what has been lost and start bran new
The people need to take a stand and vote like they really care
We must join together, use our voice, and remind them we are still there.
BY: Sabina Nicole
Written: 1-1-12
A reflection
o youth,where did you go
those yesterdays,still glow
pure white,as virgin snow
whose face is this I see,
is this really me;
where,where did youth flee
inside,still seems bran new
my youthful outlook,stays
albeit,passing days
a future lies ahead
beyond the grave,He said
the narrow path,to tread
in a resurrected body,new
for what I did for you
A quatorzain-free form sonnet
Note:(ichthys), or XIesoûs Khristós, Theoû Huiós, Sot?r;translates into English as 'Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior'
It was called Lantern tower up a winding staircase you go to reach the highest spot
when it came to erecting the York Minster Cathedral I believe they gave it all of they got
Northern Europe's largest consecrated Medieval Gothic space, York Minster was a vision
surpassed only by Chartres Loire region of France but for Harry, there is only one creation
This sacred devotional Kingdom was completed in 1472, with eight pressed leaves of quire
275 steps to the top of a central tower, a Godly place built for soulful prayer sure to inspire
Then one day a lightening bolt hit the church and set it on fire destroying this Sacred place
this beautiful gathering place built in memory of St. Peter was destroyed as fire laced...
St Peter was known as protector of fishermen, and "Christ" was one of them who knew,
He is named the Saint of “keys of heaven,” and so he's also patron Saint of locksmiths too
so when I heard that this beautiful establishment had lost its roof, it was a sad reflection
though it was rebuilt using traditional materials from experts in Medieval reconstruction
Like Notre Dame the minster has a famous Rose Window - a stained glass masterpiece
which looks over the center of York, it is now a beautiful place with a bran new lease
The Minster has been at the center of Christianity in the north of England for centuries
so the fire of 84 is now just a memory, we can again return there with ease
Authors Note: Faith, the one thing in life that can't be robbed or taken.
Wear religion round your belt and spirituality like a gown of light.
Let it spread to all those who need it most. Share the love, give it to
the weary so they can have a place to dock.
, italics
In The Mood for Love Again
By Karen Fitzpatrick
I’ll never forget the love we shared
Not knowing how deep I would grow to care
Time was precious
Hours were few
Each night seemed bran new
Making love was so complete
Oh how complex
Oh how passionate
Dreams of a love no other will defeat
For ours was a love that had no beginning
Or no ending
Resting only in hearts spinning
Love unfading
Overwhelming
Vast in our universe
Endlessly rearranging
Ageless like the heavens
Grateful for every moment
Allowed to share
In the mood for love again
Never will my heart cease to care
, italics
At the corner of Ocean an Atlantic,
Late at night neighborhood kids would get frantic,
A run down building that had been condemned,
One night is where I took my friends.
The hospital house was known for the mentally insane,
In the 50’s experiments were done on peoples brains,
Many people died beyond those walls,
We were told if we went in we could still here their calls.
It was right around Halloween,
We were five bored kids that wanted to have a little scream,
The only way in was to crawl through the basement window,
I was scared but did not want it to show.
Once inside it was too dark for us to have any sight,
Someone brought a small flashlight,
The room was all dusty, cob webs draped around,
Cold chills ran through my body, I could not hear one sound.
The boys decided to explore, I couldn’t move,
I just sat by the window so I could still prove,
But the others went on in sheer fear,
I was afraid of what might appear.
The smell of death lingered in the air,
After five minutes I knew we shouldn’t be there,
With everyone gone on there own little tours,
In the silence I began to hear much more,
A little girl crying, faintly, I heard,
I thought it was in my head, a girl crying would be absurd,
Suddenly I heard the boys all screaming,
I jumped out that window so fast I thought my heart would stop beating,
They came running down,
Screaming" look what we found,"
A skull of a baby wrapped in one boy’s hand,
“Through it back” I said, with a violent demand,
We all went running down that dreary street,
To the old oak tree were we all swore to meet,
The boys heard a girl crying and thought it was me,
I told them I heard it too and was ready to flee,
That week the small hospital was torn down
We never told anyone what we found
A year later they built a bran new house,
I saw a young lady walking out one day in a white blouse,
Then two months later I saw a for sale sign,
I wonder if it was because that young lady heard a child’s wine.
BY: Sabina Nicole
Contest: Haunted
Written:9/13/11