Best Care Poems
Be the star that brightens someone’s dark sky,
Be the light that illuminates a gloomy night,
Be the flame of compassion to life gone awry,
Even if you don’t think your candle is bright.
Despair not in a world gripped in jaws of woe
For beyond hills of grief dwells halo of hope,
Be the spring that rises through wintry throe,
Even when struggling in laments hard to cope.
Be the forest that grows through ashes of fire,
Be the dream that assuages angst of nightmare,
Be the angel of goodwill when times are dire,
Even when fate, callously, ignores your prayer.
Be not pain of misery, be not voice of dismay,
From goals of life revered, you must not stray,
Wish not for anyone, horizons shrouded gray,
Even while a storm drenches your sunny day.
If I wasn't there,
the rain swollen clouds
would have still dumped
their dark weight over the bay
and through a gaping tear,
let down a curtain of sunlight
to start the day.
And if I wasn't there,
the old, arthritic labrador
would have still waddled
along the street
with its bent but steady gait,
undistracted, self absorbed
and fixed in its own stare
that allowed no deviation
from years of devoted plod.
The morning had no need
for me, what happened
would have happened anyway.
There's an annoying sadness
in knowing the earth
doesn't seem to care
if things pass unnoticed.
Sunsets and waterfalls
carry no favor.
To it, the achingly beautiful
and the catastrophic can
happily go unreported.
And yet I still ask -
what's the point -
and entertain the notion
that the universe has this
innate and unfathomable need
for a witness
to take in Creations
unfolding riddle
and make it fit together.
I could be wrong,
but for each of us,
the privilege of being here
on this gifted earth,
to understand, care for
and tell its story in song
fulfills a purpose,
if only to this end -
or something more.
Life is not as sweet as a bowl of golden glace cherries,
nor is there a golden illuminated future for a fruitless mind.
Trembling hands and gritted teeth disguise my disorderly brain,
feeling lost in the mist,
surrounded by drowned out voices.
Deceptive chanting charms plant everyday confusion,
with stalking emotions running through my mind's corridors,
carrying a voice that gives birth to eerie echoing funnels,
pumping frustrating thoughts deep into the depths of phobias.
My demeanour hides behind a canvass of mysteries.
a pure transfiguration, where compulsive obsession
takes possession of stalking my vulnerable affections.
There's too much repetition in the fluidity of periods and seasons,
as I lose this battle to control my will's strength of life.
I constantly wonder if the only place of victory,
to find peace,
is to slay silent intoxicating depths,
which desire to explore me.
But in reality despise me with conflicting contradictions unable
to stop my puzzled conscious suffocating from over analysing,
enslaving excessive dwellings from every aspect of my existence.
Life is not a jigsaw,
I do not have the energy to find every piece.
My soul's fine heaven is rimming with untold tales of nature,
but misjudged precious intentions result in distracted actions.
An angst which has no remedy as all scars remains unseen.
But my Fears are made into gems,
when alone with my nemesis,
an unwanted life long partner
feeding upon deranged dilemmas,
which keep my mind,
spiralling in circles of uncertainties.
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u
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d
Is
This
Nature's Glory
As a quarry?
Alone and at peace
A life, a new lease
I pull up a piece of land
Take a little time to mend
This rainforest trembles
An open window in shambles
Sitting on my own made porch
I fire up a configured torch
Then lay under, should I say
What is like a porch light ray
And I wait for that one moth
Amongst butterflies sought
An unwanted reject
Like me ready to eject
Take me now in this lush
With the roar of death; a hush
And I will go, amongst this gift
Gods Eden unquestioned; my lift
My life to stop the bleeding of the land
So I protect this marvel, hold her hand
In sincere motion - there is a fusion
I can do
I can do
Never say can't
So I must chant
Let my body meld
With this
forest held
tight
Me alone a window into the future slightly opened
Maybe we are all like moths to a flame - penned
==================================================
When I hold your hand, happily you trek along
Because you trust me to know where I'm going.
Listening to my stories, you hold my sight intently
Being proud of me, you consider me all-knowing.
Whether I teach or not, you always learn from me
For innocently you believe, I know when I speak
Yet, I am just a trainee learning on the job
Crossing milestones with immeasurable doubt.
Trying to live life, you may emulate and idolize
Hoping you never find out, how unsure I was.
I stand out in a crowd as someone you rely on
For I've been there since the day you were born.
Molding your talents you grew into who you are
Illuminating my planetary life like a shining star.
For you my child, my flame blazes unperturbed
When I hold your hand, you revive my aging soul.
Calm is the silt beneath the waves
The measured heartbeat of the brave
It is the fragile petal born
From gardens of pernicious thorns
A velvety cadence under
The jagged footfalls of thunder
The pearlescent aura you breathe
From centers of calamity
Calm is elusive murmurs heard
Where sharp cacophony is stirred
Into harsh, unrelenting drums
As order wavers and succumbs
When my soul, snagged in turmoil
Stretches towards a turquoise soil
And life's timing lands out of reach
You'll find me on a forlorn beach
1/15/22
C form - Couplet contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
The syllable count was confirmed on howmanysyllables.com
I am not a father
nor I am a mother
I am just a daughter
that is growing better...
Father, you have been away
I truly wish you have stayed
Hugging me as I lay
I don't need much penny...
All I have been missing
is you my daddy
Your love and your real company...
Look, how I am now
I pursued my little vow
Hoping always, You'll be proud
It's alright if you'll not be loud...
All I want is for us to bond...
Yes, I am neither a kid nor a child
Ever anymore
But still, there is that longing
I cannot deny...
I miss you much, daddy...
(c)
contest: POEM FOR DADDY
SPONSOR: LEONORA GALINTA
2ND PLACE - TO GOD BE THE GREATEST GLORY...
NOTE: I REALLY MISS A FATHER'S LOVE..
*GRANDMA WAITS IN THE GARDEN*
Hi grandpa, it's me again!
Your dentures sit in an open glass above the nightstand
Remember the tears grandma sang before she pass?
The way she looked into your eyes,
Moments before she said goodbye
Grandpa, I found a note from grandma,
She will always wait for you.
Hi grandpa, it’s me again!
The rocking chair is old and dusty
Remember the way grandma sat me on her lap?
Read many stories before I took a nap
How she enjoyed stroking my hair with her hands
I miss the way she rocked me to sleep every night
Hello, grandpa!
I stored your hearing aid away
Remember that special musical box in grandma's drawer?
I opened it last night, to watch the ballerina soar
I wish you could hear the tiny chimes grandma loved
I hope you don’t mind, I’m keeping grandma's favorite scarf
Hello, Grandpa!
I'm caressing grandma’s picture frame
Remember the way she looked in the yellow pretty sundress?
Grandpa, I miss the things grandmother did for you
Like the walking cane she handcrafted before she left
Hello, grandpa, it's me again!
My tears have soften now,
knowing you will soon see her again
Take your place with her in the sky
Please, say hi and give her a kiss
Tell her I miss her so much
I love you grandpa
~*~
As I walked into the banquet hall of the
Goodman’s Inn, the first thing that stood
out to me were the eyes of the people. I
felt as though I could actually see hope. Eyes
seemed to sparkle and everyone in the hall
sat talking to the others sitting around them
as they waited for the main course of the evening.
To understand this report we need to go back just
over a year ago when Lindsey Long won the 50
million dollar lottery. Apparently the multimillionaire
booked the Goodman’s Inn for December 24th through
to January 2nd of this year solely to house the homeless
over the Christmas holidays. Miss Long walked through
the streets herself over the last week inviting the
unfortunate homeless to come to the motel for these
festivities. Lindsey Long has not only provided the rooms
for this week, she also has clothed them with new
wardrobes and warm winter clothing and accessories.
Now as the people sat around the table they were
told Miss Long had an announcement. We all waited
to hear what this amazing lady had to say
and excitement filled the room. When this
beautiful young woman began to talk there
wasn’t one dry eye in the building. She told them
how she was not going to just send them back
on the street next week but how she had
built a new centre that would have sleeping
facilities and showers to accommodate all
of them. This new facility will be serving
three meals a day which will be prepared solely
from themselves on a voluntary bases.
The feeling in the Inn that night was pure joy
and as the people realized the impact of this
wonderful news, they all broke out singing
It Came Upon a Midnight Clear. This is
Rhonda Reeds reporting for
The Good Newspaper.
Merry Christmas everyone.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
11.12.2014
Sponsor Mystic Rose
The Good Newspaper
1st
“A Flowers Wilt”
Witness the small existence
that abides the beauty of-----------
Freelancers all around,
Just to get a good look.
A baneful abrasion, the flower took
It captivates you -------------
Reels you, steals from you,
WAITING,
Until you pick the right flawless touch.
Dandelions swaying thin,
Here we fall like petals.
Ready to exploit, the beauty of-------
Inhale the fragrance,
Courtyard azure eyes,
Embarking in a wishful eternity,
A crush they become, when loveliness up and left.
A bully against arrogant threw feminine perfumed veils
Tulips waiting for the better auspicious sky
Asters claim the eclipse's,
-dinginess censors it from the brilliance of the sun.
~
A lonely rose
In My Helix World-
The out-and-out are born.
Cries in the dimness,
A sweet Lotus echo
Slight yelps of agony carried off by pollen breeze.
The earth revolves to fast,
Injections of herbal essence in the wind
For a split second, we feel pixie dust
Channel the essential, it fades
Earlier beauty, calmness-
A flourish smile,
Rusk of flower, a bluebird’s bread.
Like candles and dew, they stream and limber energy
Opposing others of its humanity,
Against the command of its importance,
Pierced by its own elegance,
Thriving slowly of its own will,
A short story, gone astray!
Tonight, we plant a tree,
The Flower wilts
The gardener cries
Old souls don't drift off and die
Sit there idle, or even care why
Achieving greatness takes time
Values and a certain state of mind
Realize, for once, it's not just what you see
Understand nuance, syntax, and hyperbole
Help yourself, don't get fooled by any old shroud
Though others are silent and lost in the crowd
Rise up, be courteous, let words show them wrong
As free as a whisper and the cardinal's sweet song
Thump, thump...thump, thump
Your heart beats with internal impediment
Making each breath a struggle.
I see your pain, I feel your anguish,
I dearly love your determination to endure.
I can only imagine how difficult it is to
relinquish days of youth when your strength
was the marvel of the men you worked with
side by side...celebrated as the Paul Bunyan
of the shipyard whose power knew no bounds.
Advancing years have garnered fears of
imminent shadows from the Grim Reaper
inching closer day by day until you can
feel his breath on the nape of your neck.
Past regrets loom before you of missed
opportunities, and so many things left
unaccomplished, unattended projects that
act as brutish reminders of failing health.
You think I don't understand the dilemmas
you face in just getting through another
hellish night of insomnia to sleepwalk
through another day plagued by doubts of
Time slipping away like a thief in the night.
I want to be here for you...with you.
Please let me be.
7-26-18
In Such Intense Flames, An Eternity May Be Born
Hold your dreams, bind them with rainbow beams
tumble sweetly and let heart's passion arise
sow the seeds that love gives passion's great might
that Life and Love both gift oft in joyful surprise.
With that deep ardor born from Love's treasure chest.
Sing soul's worth and honor thy lover's greatest request.
Embrace those blessings that truest romance bestows
caress them with care and taste their honey sweet
let spring forth, memories that forever shall live
for gems of purest love, never suffer indignant defeat.
With that deep ardor born from Love's treasure chest.
Sing soul's worth and honor thy lover's greatest request.
Chase your heart's desire, revel in its glorious touch
kindle such heat, stoke fantasy and its hottest of fires
for in such intense flames, an eternity may be born
even after glow of passion's saddest of funeral pyres.
With that deep ardor born from Love's treasure chest.
Sing soul's worth and honor thy lover's greatest request.
Robert J. Lindley , 10-14-2018
Rhyme, ( Looking Back, Ages Ago)
Poet's Note- Dedicated to my great friend and writing partner, Susan Ashley.
Inspired by and composed after my reading of Susan Ashley's superbly crafted new poem titled, The Glory Of The Eastern Edge. Thank you dear friend for seeding this burst of early morn writing.
This revisiting of the romantic imaginations of my youth- reminds me now of the immense love and great blessings of my beloved wife Riza and the most cherished blessing of our beloved son Justin.
What once was lost, much later has been found..
In the darkest of times
be the light of a candle
but the harshest of crimes
to let melt your candle
***
Give, unmindful of a reason
feel the heavy burden light
remember to mind your reason
fill your very soul with Light
***
Like a delicate dove
bathe into sweet waters well
feed on the seeds of Love
reach not the bottom of its well.
The garden of love bids tending
so often it pains us to render its due
when drought offers threat
and water is scarce
and lovers forget what it means to be true
Yet love, like a garden, rewards us
the flowers of the heart are worth all the pain
how else can we reap
that beautiful yield
with little to lose and with so much to gain
When I think of where we first started
with just the horizon to capture our view
my eyes now behold
what a garden can be
with effort and love to carry it through