Best Byway Poems
As a byway ahead grows quite dim
late evening ‘s radiance slowly pales away ---
This fiery yet compassionate woman brushes luster
into her hair and retraces the gleam
of Mother Mary's pledge so she could face
her courage to raise consciousness from unknown whispers;
praying that daybreak would find a clearer path
back home to empowerment... a reminder
that though one’s world is vast and diverse,
she is connected to every female through ' gender balance':
And through a need for equality, an inner light-wave
cuddles her in the soft of a one-universe's halo,
anointed by the gods, the earth, and of freedom itself.
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March Poems, Old Or New For Prizes Part 3 Of Easter Series
For Carolyn Devonshire's Contest
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'Gender Balance' is one of the themes
for International Women's Day
POTD
Race with the wind, step up higher
Higher than blues of a sky;
Through an airspeed, mile-long flight
Chase a smooth or rugged pace,
Wings on feet, be the desire.
On to tracks as the nights inspire
Burn, burn man, whip a dream;
Heels kicking dust of life's byway
Chase a smooth or rugged pace,
Wings on feet, be the desire.
And spike that run like a lit fire
Gotta reach the stars’ motion;
Burn man, gears are in control
Chase a smooth or rugged pace,
Wings on feet, be the desire.
6/3/2015
Lyric Man's Sing Me..A Jingle
by nette onclaud
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The mythological associations
for the brand Nike Shoes are flight,
victory, and speed.
Nike is the Winged Goddess of Victory.
The Byway
I may have been a place or two
Where your foot has fallen or wishes to.
I have known a decibel of fright
And shrieked aloud the cold dark night
In braveness have you reached in aid?
In kindness have you sought to save
Sweet precious feelings of a friend
And sacrificed your own true end?
Stoop not at indignity nor
Puff and gel in praise.
For both fade fickle in the light
And melt away in haze.
We’ll not be judged on cleverness
Instead we will succeed
On our state of readiness
To lend a hand in need.
In my travels among the roads of life,
I stumbled upon pathos, sadness and strife,
Sometimes I headed down the byway without a thought,
Not caring of the consequences and misdeeds which brought
Broken promises, hurtful words and lack of trust,
My soul cried out in despair dear Lord reach me if you must.
This spirit of mine was begging for a new life and a clear path to follow,
I prayed to Jesus on my knees to cleanse my soul of wallow,
Asking him to lead me to the passage of righteousness,
And that the despair was replaced by the light of blessedness,
It was a welcome beacon at the end of the rocky climb
For Jesus helped me shed the sins of grime.
I was led to the fork in the road by our Lord and His Son,
Showing me the direction of hope which had begun
A new lifetime to develop a bridge of spiritual strength,
Growing stronger each day and spanning the length
With a heart filled with faith, joy and blessed assurance
And knowing that the walk is guided by love and endurance.
Favorite Scripture: Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path.
Psalm 119:105
Towers collapsed to foundations,
The planes exploded in air,
To gratify firebrand preachers
Destruction and death everywhere.
Bus became coffin on byway,
Train torn up beneath ground,
Fanatics end innocent life,
Spin godless chaos around.
Child kneels broken at graveside,
Tears drip down to the earth,
A consciousness of pure evil
Deems human life of no worth.
Enemies fester within,
Harbour a doctrine and creed,
Under the guise of religion,
And nurtures a virulent seed.
Enemies hidden within,
Feral smiles, baring of teeth,
Approve of a racist agenda.
Murder by twisted belief.
Why should we drown beneath?
Fundamental waves of hate,
Why should we have to live
In this an altered state?
They can go to other places
Where their twisted creed is rife,
Where martyrdom and slaughter
Construe their way of life.
The simple, sorry factor
The ironic doctrinaire:
The places of their genesis
Won’t stand them living there.
Thus decent, honest people
Are left unto their fate,
A homeland under terror
Remains an altered state.
Beneath kohl sky, the war of words rattles
As fierce lightning of his voice, my thunderous replies
Pour a lethal elixir, its venom malignant
Demanding a power struggle between forces,
On one tearing night which assaults the senses:
How whipping air deepens a rugged course
Where darkness gathers heightened energy;
Vicious as the gnaws of a charged torrent.
I saunter out to clear an overcast mind,
Breathing in the rain, the moist vapor
While my fingers raise high in soulful appeal
Until a dot of a star enters into my body...
Gradually, the storm passes by, as if
Nothing on the byway stirs a gory hour;
That in pure clarity, I open the kitchen door
And maybe, through divine intervention,
He embraces me in the middle of his vulnerability.
Perfect Storm Contest ---for Craig Cornish
10/4/2017
She still paces around the churchyard
without a hat on her blown tresses;
an autumn cloak rustling beneath a gray cloudscape
that somehow, her eyes wander on,
not because she relishes the flick
of icy leaves...not because silk orchids lay
on a marbled cross: rather,
her thoughts gather among dry thistles to wail
upon a crypt nestled by life’s hammock of dust.
The lull from breezes affirms such quietude
of her beloved now resting on potter’s field,
sealed by the finality of death : this instant crash
through night's byway pinning him down down the abyss...
And the mist spills into another hour
unrelenting in bowed silence,
as if he loved her essence more in ghastly ruins.
Broken Wing's Could You, Please Contest
Submitted 10/20/2017
Originally Written 10/17/2017
Lamentable, the family gathering
on the other side of sunshine,
with possessions no longer bothering,
sans loving cups, draining of wine.
Great-grands, grands, aunts, uncles, cousins and unborn,
one mom, a nephew, memories
their perspectives (only they carry). Torn,
yellowed pages of treasuries.
Climbing steps, silver dollars, and finger gloves,
savory chicken and dumplings,
boat on the lake, seashells on velvet (these loves)
tricks and treats, some were just ducklings.
Soft hands, warmer heart; silver in corner chair;
the teaser (he died way too young)
To each I lift my thoughts - they are laid bare.
Kindly, ancestors, I’m among.
All, go the byway, to our destination.
What will our progeny recall?
What bouquet of ours sets forth sensation?
Together we’ll be, blessings fall.
Lacrimal vessels are filled - our love, fearsome.
Eyes salty and brightened.
Peace comes after tears, reveling in wisdom.
Capacity to care, heightened.
Walk out to ocean, this stony pathway,
Folk story declare, twas a snakes byway.
Climbed from sea, wormed onto the hidden cave,
Men explored and commune, the knowledge crave,
This legend lives on, even to this day!
Along the horizon, dawn caught away,
Rides in with glory, it's mystic gateway.
Morning shines hope on, the soul of each brave,
Walk out to ocean.
Mist rises, the ocean hides the door way,
Relish the cold evening, welcome skies grey,
The lava flow stairway, the surf well lave,
Presents a view, foretell of gifts we save.
The moon radiates rich, dream day can't stay,
Walk out to ocean!
Walk The Route to the Truth
Should you be seeking the route to the Truth
It’s advisable to follow this route
Start walking on the road to Graciousness
That guides one on the way to Godliness.
If you find a sign saying "Temptation”
Change direction with no hesitation
Persevere onwards past the Devil's Creek
Head off on the path reserved for the meek.
Travel on keeping in sight of the Light
On the byway that gives rise to the Right
When weary stop by the Saviour's Inn
There you shall find the rest you seek within.
Continue with strong determination
Onwards to the divine destination
There you will find the celestial Gold Key
That opens the heart for Eternity.
“Follow the footsteps of our faithful friend
Let the light of Christ shine bright to life's end.”
13th June 2021
In tight and busy parking lots
You can easily get perturbed
Should I back out; take the long way,
Or should I just jump the curb?
Jeeportunity!
The well-worn road around the butte
Will take ten minutes more
But a dusty two-track byway
Will save us some time -- I'm sure!
Jeeportunity!
This time the parking lot is full
‘cept a small space next to a hill
“No worries!” mumbling to no one,
“I’ll just drive it up there in Four-wheel.
Jeeportunity!
It”s time to buy a set of wheels,
Your spouse wants the blue mini-van.
There, on the end, what’s that you see?
A Rubi Wrangler! Yup, I’m a fan!
Jeeportunity!
Some cold day in my future life
I will climb the stairway to heaven,
In a golden Jeep with a mega lift
And the tires will be Thirty Sevens!
Jeeportunities!
A little boy and an ant became great friends one day.
But how to live drew them apart, and this is how they ran astray:
In the Ant’s heart was strict authority and constant work to rule the day.
Why wasn’t the boy toting behind someone, collecting for the food array?
The ant would always build everything in exactly the same proven way.
The anthill, underground, protected them perfectly as shown, every day.
Not adding to the hive was a horrible crime, none would ever display.
The ant knew all would be perfect, if everyone did their job, and obeyed.
But the boy wanted to build bridges and trestles, just like his Dad, each day.
All of them out in the open, none of them under ground or hidden away.
Inventiveness came with the notice, of new and exciting things in daily play.
His life was really cool, not boring, as standing in a line would convey.
He’d invent, ponder, and build in exciting, new ways, to fit each new byway.
Quick minded, resilient he’d build, many fascinating and unique causeways.
The boy and the ant eventually went away, not happy with how the other lived.
They thought the other shortsighted and scorned, at what the other could give.
But they went away without realizing, how very similar were their lives.
For each would spend their time endeavoring to help others with their drive.
But understanding is a harder concept than building a bridge or storing food.
It takes a true gift to see the world as others do…
The moral to this story is really quite easy for all to see:
You can’t expect others to live lives, how you want them to be.
Each was adding to their different worlds, only they could see.
One building for a smaller, singular hive, the other the hive of mankind, you see.
Each in their own way: truly cast a long shadow to fill… an important need.
I can be anything you like
the one to love you; your esquire,
I can be love’s greatest asset
or the hangman’s noose if of that you require.
I can be the bastard that spoils your day
or indeed the one that helps you cross life’s busy highway,
I can be sincere also tell you lies
stab you in the back when gullibility your byway.
I can be your fantasy or worst nightmare
play your game, then mine; come on in to my brain,
I can be your pillow give comfort to where you lay your head
also the lead weight to tie around your legs.
I can be your fun or funeral director
in heaven or hell when you die,
I can change my profile, personality
sparkle with the morning dew only then to evaporate.
I can be simple the way I was taught-created
hammer you with love threaten you with happiness,
I can be young or very old wise or worthless
contemptuous my amour an open book my soul.
I can be all of these things for today ‘tis life,
flexible elastic, pull your strings. I major in all.
Entered 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 7
poetry contest Sponsor Mark Toney
9/7/2022
Written 2014.
Our world is aligned with deep fervor,
time, and shared geography: a constant
value of random variables where
beneath moonglow, he and I relish soft
cuddles along evening’s byway,
as we awaken to heightened energy…
the pull from dotted stars and clouds
grows buoyant, eclipsing the limits
of a skyscape when dreams
and laughter rise like towers…I breathe
his wonder, radiating in glorious flow
while dragonflies swerve; unable to decode
our language whispered ever gently…
At times, we fumble over trite errors,
still, we connect through waves
of affection’s frequency which expand
into countless probabilities: that no matter
how I spread the width and breadth
borne from reasoning, the way quantum physics
tries to explain life's equation, its exact tangent;
the more intangible this soul behaves…
for love is an undefined divine worth
much like the mystery of a spirit song.
Contest of John Hamilton: submitted 2/5/2017
Your best free verse love poem
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Originally written 3/09/2016
Mom’s old Chrysler is the scourge of my life
driving it, this sedan makes me complain
forty meters on a ride, the wheels pop--
by that time, I miss the green light... again!
So I'm squatting like a fool on a byway
with prayers, the tow truck gets here real fast--
while counting a hundred 'go' lights blink on ;
my lacy dress spoils, my frail wits aghast!
To make matters worse, tonight's the great prom...
While above the green bulb, a poster reads,
" Is your auto worn-out? Here's an offer!
Get the new Chrysler where each ride succeeds!
Carolyn Devonshire's Contest
Green Humor Rhymes, Old Or New For Prizes
1/16/2019 ~ Revised