Best Bye(A) Poems


Premium Member Flowers of Tuscany-Fiori Della Toscana

Sunflowers turn slowly 
to follow the sun.
They bow their heavy heads 
when afternoon’s done.

What a golden vision 
they share row after row
With deep amber faces, 
their tiny seeds all aglow.

The summer breezes blowing 
o’er the fields with warm air
Shares pride in a country
with its beauty so fair.

I smile in contentment  
as I l leave old Italy
With a sea of them waving
good-bye to me.

************************
Italian translation:

Fiori della Toscana

Solefiori ruotare lentamente
a seguire il sole.
Si inchinano le loro teste pesanti
Quando ha fatto pomeriggio.

Che una visione d'oro
essi condividono la riga dopo riga
Con facce profondo ambrati,
Loro piccoli semi tutto raggiante.

La brezza estiva che soffia
sopra i campi con aria calda
Orgoglio di azioni in un paese
con la sua bellezza così fiera.

Sorrido in contentezza
come ho l lasciare la vecchia Italia
Con un mare di loro sventolando 
good-bye a me.



Note: This translation is as close to my original poem as possible. 
Click on the link to see a picture of sunflowers:
http://hd.lubpedia.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/Sunflowers-Wallpapers-4.jpg

Premium Member Plight of the Pickrel

There was a fat pickrel from Perth.
Saddled with little self worth.
He befriended a perch.
Who lived bye a birch.
Then ate him ,increasing his girth.
© Joe Inka  Create an image from this poem.

Hold the Phone


Incoming ... 
distress missive call
Hangups on the other side
of the continental divide cellular room 
Mushroom sobs of insecurity  
click end of volatile transmission 
Redialitis sparks an emotional kaboom

Hold the phone ...
busy signal
blocks the aural unnecessary 
audio carrying on

Listen to the sick, sad drone
of earworm  infection
Party line frienemy chatter — 
rumor skullduggery 
lip shake the skeleton bones

Wireless ... 
discredit babble cry is on the blame install
Wronged directory
sent bye-bye a phantom victimized 911 call

Hangups on the teary-eye side
of the bleary divide
Insecure tremors rattle the room 
Situation report bleak ... 
relationship on a carrier gloom
Moby D pigeon chirps want the last speak 
Mushroom wails
spark splash a cellular kaboom

Hold the phone ...
fade-to-black signal
buries the raised decibel unnecessary 
verbal carrying on

Silence transmits an air golden tone;
as needless, exhale worriations
of arrhythmic heart palpitations
get disconnected lung distance long

And the bad karma vibrations
beep off-the-tower power grid gone


Won Problem

Care free driving down the lain, 
sites of yesteryear refrain, 
Children playing inn there yards, 
Tattered houses somewhat scarred. 
  
Traveling inn gay apparel, 
Run across ORANGE BARREL! 
Flashing arrows catch the I, 
Must move over, lest ye dye! 

Press the petal, ewes the brakes, 
Up and coming, highway steaks!  
Now between a garbage truck, 
Driven bye a selfish schmuck, 
  
Long lines, bumper two bumper. 
Grate need of cable jumper! 
Taxes payed on rode repair,  
Hit the whole, say a prayer! 

FISTS SHAKE
HORNS BLAIR, 
  "KNOW GO"
ANYWHERE!
© Judy Konos  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Eye Rowed My Hoarse

Eye rowed my hoarse
won summer’s day
My horse went hoarse
and wood knot nay

I whisted my turds to make him laugh
Butt Muffin choked and started coffin
I said Muffin you’re having a giraffe
A lass I kneed a coffin two carry him off in

Eye road my hoarse won summer’s day
My hoarse went horse and wood knot nay
Pleas can ewe tell me wear two berry a hoarse
Knot inn the knackers yard ore on a race coarse

My hoarse went horse won summer’s day
Butt now he’s dead watt can eye say
I’d whisted my turds to make him laugh
Eye will put hiss obituary inn the telegraph

Eye’ll miss old Muffin my trusty hoarse
Butt Muffin choked and now he’s dead
Aye wish my hoarse had staid the coarse
I’ll bye a donkey and ride hymn instead

Butt my donkey was in fact a mule
Aye didn’t no the difference I’m a fool
Now Muffin the mule’s ran out of fuel
Eye should have listened moor inn school!

Word Play Poems with Play-on-Words raison d'etre -- Poetry Contest

Sponsored by John Anderson

07/18/21

Selenophile

He's above the earth, far away from my touch
Hanging in her arms of the sky
-Staring at me
A dream of eternal shone in our eyes 
My love, unheard as a whisper 
The vast horizon lave in his shine
I'm merely an admirer of his 
As the vales lean their hand to feel him
 and clouds tempt for a kiss
The sea portrayed  him in her ripple 
- greens in their leaves
 Fortunate peaks thieved a hug  
-the earth push her trees for a glance of him
Miles of silence was between us and 
-Only our eyes spoke- 
the pain and mystery of dark  
He's near to the sea, sinking, to her lap
As a mid sunset, he stared, in my red eyes
My hands leaned into an unknown 
- the soul ached, unconditionally
I felt my last bye, a promise of hope
He's above the earth, far away from my touch
Hanging in her arms of the sky 
-Staring at me
An untold sensation abut my fingers, 
-slowly every bit of my body
A hot breath breeze over me 
And a fragrance of jasmine
And, A shine! 
The sky bent over me, like a wish. 
The words were granted; I'm your moon, my love


Premium Member The Fire Ant Stomp

When I  be out cuttin mye graiss befo,
Duh Lawd gimmie a sign.
Least ways iffin hit wus not duh Lawd
Maybe sumpthin else, cause
Duh Lawd He don’t want no body
usin His name fur a laiff.
So I be starten ovuh hyar,
wif mye tell.
When I do be out cuttin mye graiss befo,
sumpthin gimmie a sign.
Quick as a jack rabbit wid one hine laig
I be done named a new daince.
Hit be duh far aint stomp.
Yessuhree, I fount myeseff
ankle deep in far aints on duh inside mye paints.
Knee deep in them thangs on duh outside.
Whachoo gonna do widdum?
Well, I commenced to stomp thet laig.
Hit felt so good I commenced to stomp
t’other jus out of puor delyt.
First thang I knowed, I had stompt down
a whole row uv Dixie Lee Pees (sp?)
and twenny hills of peenuts (sp?)
People allus sez thet duh laist time
whut dey gots bit bye a far aint
Hit bees duh wussest bite ever
and dey allus say thet hit bees duh biggest, baddest
far aint whut evuh lived.
Annen dey turns around five minits later
Adder dey done squshed dat biggest,
baddest, far aint whut evuh lived.
And don’t choo know dey gits bit by
one meaner, badder, an bigger.
When I gits restid up by toomar
I’ll be puttin’ on a liddle music
sumwhir out of site of mye wife
and I’ll see iffin I caint rermember
how to do thet stomp.  

23 aug 2010 For Paula's "Poetry's sake" contest

Premium Member The Solution For World Peace

What’s in a handshake?
What's its value or worth?
Between any two people,
All over this beautiful Earth.

The shake outshines 
Ten thousand @replies.
It’s not a typed “Hi mate”,
It's much more personalized.

A shake can mean “Well done”, 
From New York to a frozen Moscow.
A contract, a promise, an amnesty,
A truce, good bye, a plain hello.

Is the value the feel of human touch, 
When starting intimate relations?
It’s so powerful it can even
Create peace between two nations.

Handshakes should be taught
To every school girl and boy.
We might then have universal peace, 
Physically connecting all with joy.

Fairyland

Row after row in or shine,
She grew them where the scattered lay;
Mayflowers, roses, columbine,
A fairyland among decay.
I ran to where her wielded wand
Cast beauty down between dead bark.
Damp earth we combed with clawing hand,
Light fingerplay among the dark;
Then danced upon her magic lawn.
"Choose one, the fairest to your eye.
It's grown for you and you alone;
Then tend till old enough to die."
Till old enough? For it or me?
My longer and my shorter years,
A garden kept on bended knee
From vine and weed, with sweat and tears,
And blooded briar, choking turf;
Till bye and bye, a withered rose;
And this: her hushing voice - "enough!
That was the fairyland you chose." 


David Colquhoun.

Premium Member Divorce

Divine days lost
Into the years, eaten by the
Vultures that took our flame.
Onwards tomorrow, we´ll have
Rememberings to step out.
Capturing our life together...!
Exam failed by you and me.

Premium Member My Nameless Pet

It's been so long ago since we both shared and parted company.
I can't even recall if you had a name.
If only you knew just how much you had meant to me.
Maybe you did. Maybe you felt the same.
I remember the day when we first met.
There you were enjoying the snack
that I had left for you or any one of your wild neighbors,
but it was you feasting that morning in my trap.
I was a kid who would humanely trap the occasional wildlife
then I’d keep them around for a while
in a large pen I had made 
with the comforts of food, water and shade,
then I’d set them free again back into the wild.
Every captured animal I released, though I treated all royally
whenever they happened to be my captured guest,
would sprint back into their habitat with such eagerness to be Free,
But You Hung Around. You were not like the rest.
You and I were met by most with looks of amazement and bewilderment.
I was also no longer the helpless kid bullied by every punk.
Word quickly spread around 
to all the bullies in town,
“Don’t mess with that kid who has the pet skunk.”
I won’t mention your name, Mr. Bully of Town Fame,
but do you happen to recall the day
when you and your group of punk friends 
ambushed me yet once again,
but this time it was all of you who ran away ?
Such brave little cowards all of you were
as you all approached me with that look in your eyes.
You know the look that I mean.
It’s the look that was before long, no longer a surprise.
It was the look that says, “Look At Me ! I’m MEAN!!”
It was the look that said to me,
“This can only once again end painfully.
It’s Time Once Again For All Of Them To Beat Up On Me.”
You took one major good swing to my jaw and, 
Oh yes, by the way,
my jaw didn’t work properly for many days after,
but I’d experience it again multiple times more, 
if that were possible to explore
just to experience once again my joy and laughter.
That was the one and only punch that you landed on me, 
And Then The Next Thing I Knew, 
You were all crying and running away all frantically.
My Nameless Pet Skunk Skunked The Hell Out Of All Of You!!!
*
My Nameless Pet Skunk Will Always Be
A Very Special Part Of My Childhood History.
By now you're most probably R I P my little skunk buddy.
I remember our good bye, a bittersweet cherished memory,
when you returned back to the wilderness to once again live wild and free.
*

Nature

IT'S TIME TO WOKE UP,
IT'S TIME FOR PEOPLE TO GO FOR WORK,
IT'S TIME FOR BIRDS TO GO IN SEARCH OF FOOD,
IT'S TIME FOR FLOWERS TO BLOOM,
IT'S TIME FOR DARKNESS TO GO,
IT'S TIME TO START A NEW DAY...
IT'S TIME FOR THE SUN TO RISE.

IT'S TIME FOR PEOPLE TO GO BACK HOME,
IT'S TIME FOR BIRDS TO RETURN,
IT'S TIME FOR FLOWERS TO WITHER,
IT'S TIME FOR DARKNESS TO COME,
IT'S TIME TO SAY BYE A DAY....
IT'S TIME FOR THE SUN TO SET.

Bye a Thread

Finest woven trappings of silk thread
Along her path he shouldn’t tread

Heaven

Heaven 
I tried to ascertain just what EYE might be. 
EYE = Eternity. 
A rally long time. 
E = MC 3. 
Heaven. 

A boy running in a straight line and never tiring never 
even stopping just running and running and never out 
of breathe never worried about his little heart, no start 
or beginning and no ending. 

Wait , no that is not eye. 

Heaven. 

Three Old Men walking with walking sticks. 
Walking in a straight line ,stately, and with dignity. 
Three Old Men whom are dignities , walking in the desert, 
passing bye a tent,turning out of the heat because 
Abraham hailed them. 
Please kind sirs stop in here and eye will feed them. 
EYE am Heaven. 
Eye am on my way to destroy the Sodom and Gomorrah. 
For the hue and the cry of it has reached to me in Heaven. 
Heaven. 
Sometimes fire upon the wicked just to save them. 
Heaven. 
Life instead of death deserved. 
Heaven. 
Manna in the wilderness instead of a man in a red dress. 
Heaven. 
Eye could now go on and on and on and on and on and on and on, 
Heaven???

Premium Member Almighty God’s Son

He visited Simon's mother-in-law, who had a fever.
Did he do so because she was kin of his disciple?
The elderly needed care. He knew this as a healer.
Wasn't their psyche more than their physique what made them ill?

A lesion in reason and logic rots the mind, like rust.
Depression, delirium, dementia, and rifts in moods
Loss of autonomy, grief, loneliness, and lack of trust
Optimism fades like a waning moon, and pessimism broods.

He knew these puddled muddles. Was he a psychoanalyst?
How was he able to read each mind like a telepath?
Wasn't he, for-bye, a universal philanthropist?
Was he not the zenith of extraterrestrial math?

Innocence, like crystal clear streams, flooded from his person.
Wasn't he, after all, the Almighty God's precious son?

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