Best Carry Forward Poems
Paint me blue like the sky
rainbow's smile; thunder's cry
clouded curtains rife with rain
till shroud is lanced and bluebirds fly again
Wistful moods in mahogany frames
melancholy painters with undiscovered names
rearrange reveries in pastel hues
decorating lonely walls with brooding blues
Paint me emerald like the sea
feeling caged; rolling free
stormy rage; morning calm
who knows where swelling waves come from?
Which shades best record a personality?
Which side of the coin is preserved for history?
Shall I smile or appear dignified?
Do I show my true self, or try to hide?
Paint me tawny like a lark
as the sky dissolves to dark
flying free but not for long
a gloomy gloaming swallows up its song
What do you see as I hold this pose?
Will you reveal or conceal my imperfect nose?
Will you paint scars and wrinkles or leave no trace?
Will your biography in oils show lines on my face?
Paint me crystalline like a wine glass
for you somehow see right through
the paintbrush captures the epidermis
but the painter overlays the spirit
Superimposing your style, passions, heartbreaks, joie de vivre
onto my facets, form, features, and flaws
with love, you labor on
transforming my brief life into a lasting work of art
Paint me gold like a sunrise
as it marks the dark's demise
background wash of faith, hope, love;
the colors life's palette is made of.
When bones are one with graveyard soils
these memories preserved in oils
are saved for those who later come
that they may know where they've come from
written 1 Sep 2022
...with gratitude for all the inspired artists who
carry forward the grand tradition of portraiture.
Categories:
carry forward, art, perspective,
Form:
Rhyme
I look behind to see my dream has shattered
into a million pieces on the floor
I knew that this was going to happen
but didn't know it would hurt much more
It was the only way this dream should end
it wasn't one that had a hope
it's better off in a million pieces
I'm just not sure how to cope
I know that I must now recover
and learn to build my dreams again
I just need to build them better
and make them those I can attain
I know the hurting will continue
for a time at least
but from my dream that lies here shattered
I'll take from it one piece
It's something that I'll carry forward
into my new dream I must take
for it's the thought of possibilities
this piece of dream did wake
But it's the image my dream created
is that which hurts the more
I think it's this that lies in tatters
strewn across the floor.
Categories:
carry forward, lost lovedream, dream,
Form:
Quatrain
An unexplored Adventure !!!
I know what will be !!!
There is an emptiness, creating – depression – a hole
that a deep sadness fills – thoughts of it, take their toll
on an alone heart that seeks a destiny with so much more.
The choices one makes, become the hands that close a door
on all that hope was crafting of - those elusive, sublime dreams.
All that is, all that is felt, all that one sees, all that could be, it seems,
comes down to sadness, emptiness, heartache guided by the hand of fate.
Fate guides these words - these feelings, the voices of the gods do state,
that it will be the courses upon oceans, seas and all the rivers of life.
And so, as end days near, what will prevail will be blinded strife
who’s tears cut deep into the heart, like a surgeons, keen knife,
removing emotions, feelings, memories, and without a notion
as to why ?, things are in a void, at a standstill, no motion
left to carry forward, give one hope, give one a reason
from one loved- in the game of love – in this season ?
I feel like a dissipating, fading, disappearing man.
Becoming invisible as my departing hour – soon at hand –
will open a door through which – as swift and sure as it can –
all I sought will run to another, and there, alone, will I stand,
once again, with heart in hand, without hope, the dream is dead
and only photos, experiences, memories, heartache to fill my head.
I will always remember the joys, the pleasures. and all that was good,
All the walks, the talks, the adventures, all the pain, where we once stood
in the silhouette of the others shadow, the others glow, what we came to know
of the secrets that make up you and make up me, secrets that seldom show
their veiled faces to ourselves, yet we have told the other some truths
as we have come to see them, having been born in our youth.
Where has she gone ?, her beauty I have touched twice.
I have to say, if I could every day, how nice.
I will – my Dear – cherish every tender morsel !, until the end.
I will – my Dear – always be ( if nothing else ) your forever friend.
B. J. “A” 2
July 15th 2007
Categories:
carry forward, love hurts,
Form:
Rhyme
The plain is fuzzing with the ingress racing.
Predicted rain is heard in the birds singing.
Sow your seed when the moon tells its time.
Hear the tales close to the fire; it's sublime.
Contemplate the skies for the hawks cry.
Focus on the breeze and the moonlit sky.
The noble spirit exudes an altered tone.
To heed of the rite of the elder, not atone.
The misery of grievousness is heinous.
I am fated, that I could carry forward.
There's no growth from the coldness.
The stable grace cannot stem rearward.
For a dismal exhale to seek for reeling.
Hear the beat and banter with moving.
5TH PLACE CONTEST WINNER
Written: April 10, 2022
A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Categories:
carry forward, analogy, appreciation, bird, devotion,
Form:
Sonnet
Old sayings are gold for many
Proverbs are power house of wisdom to some
‘’Tit for tat ‘’is one such ring of diamond
Worn on their necks, revenge is its another sweet name
The lure or the allurement of it is so strong
That hardly could I, too, avoid to use it
To answer any misdeeds done to me
So I hate those who hate me
This is a very simple equation
And very equitable with the third of law of motion
And stationary things I dislike, in fact, there is nothing stationary
In relative term everything is in motion
You, me, their hate and my reaction
But I have a problem with myself
For granted I cannot take old things and old sayings as they are
I put things down side up
And upside down
Then stir it with my long handled spoon
The reason is obvious I cannot carry forward a lie
Or live in falsehood or say like a sage
Love those who hate you
I am not a prophet either, otherwise, I would say
Hate the sin not the sinner
I am mare a poet, a pretty writer
And have a big habit to pretend what I am not
And develop a knack to show people
That I am too busy with my love
And have no time for big hating business
Neither the people who hate me
Nor are the people who by mistake use the old sayings indiscriminately.
Categories:
carry forward, old,
Form:
Free verse
2010 is ringing out
2011 is on the threshold
Joy and cheer enjoyed
may we carry forward and hold
Grief and pain endured
may we carry forward as lessons in bold
Year just a parameter
lets not wish in parts, wish till deaths cold
Many have wished
let your wish be pure to impact many fold
Wishing without feel is in vogue
pain still exists as wishes mailed, Greetings sold
Lets resolve to wish with heart
joy, peace be not extinct as mythical pot of gold
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
To all Soup colleagues ~~~~~
Heartfelt wishes / warm hugs / tons of love
~~~~~~~~~~for Happy 2011
Hitendra Mehta
Categories:
carry forward, philosophypain, may,
Form:
Free verse
Red bulb
casts sultry shadow
across the
room
spilling onto the
street
air heavy with
illicit
night scent
rain smog weed and
jack
clinging
along for the ride
blurry eyed
distorted reflection dares you
“look up”
shoes
high with painted toes
pulse quickens
stockinged legs the
pathway to shapely hips and
white lace panties
silk
skims navel and
cups breasts
dark
hair spills
tense anticipation
fear
molten lava veins
palms
sweat
heart pounds in ears
feet carry forward
musty
perfume envelopes and
draws into her
realm
cash binds
the deal
one night of
passion
for your
probity
Categories:
carry forward, passion, urban
Form:
Free verse
three connected by blood
three fated to strive
three to stem the flood
three, of whom one must die
together they stood and answer'd the call
as one they stood, to country's cry
in mind as one man tall
in history, to battle they fly
to one must death come
to one must agony be borne
to the last do tears run
to the last they rejoiced when all did mourn
the one was cast down into the nevermore
the one was cut down, forever scarred
the last must carry forward
the one to bear the standard far
in blood he knelt
in fire his shadow
in the furnace he felt
the enemy's pow'r
did he weep did he moan
did he kneel and submit
did he feel the cursed groan
the oppressor's power of writ
they shed their tears
they offered their blood
they faced their fears
they slogged through mud
now I see them and remember
now I understand their agony
now I feel their pride dismembered
now I see what they fought, the larceny
they wept and bled
they shrieked and cried
to war they fed
for their land's due pride
Categories:
carry forward, death, family, loss, war
Form:
Rhyme
Interlude
It becomes apparent
As the days go by
That with years behind you
A desire quietly lye’s
A commitment is made
Day one after the kiss
Of a life full of wonder
Wanting of love and bliss
So for every kiss of the lips
Every caress of the flesh
Patience is yearning
For the intimacy of togetherness
As your day approaches
Do you not feel the urge
That comes on the night
You consummate and merge
A man loves a woman
This happens unending
But for those who are special
Who wait for this blessing
A grace will come upon you
In the generality of sight
Mostly forgotten to us
Your God given light
That you spare the temptation
That bodes the body strife
And saved it for your special night
When first you are man and wife
As you carry forward
May the years bring to you
The love that you have nurtured
A love that is so true
Categories:
carry forward, love, marriage, wedding,
Form:
Romanticism
If you are reading this you are most likely alive.
a poem reader…….
a contemporary……….
I prefer reading poems from hearts still beating
words with organic life
with love still alight or bitterly lost
from parents who still kiss fresh bruises
verses written by hands still warm.
I can inquire the meaning of cryptic symbols
praise well turned words
describe my appreciation of a moving verse.
The poem lives with the breathing poet
as current as the damp saliva of a fresh kiss.
Dusty classics have their value,
but the cobwebs of old ideas grow cumbersome.
The time comes when the thees, thous, and wherefores must cease.
Like archaic relics of books never checked out of the library,
or old grave markers misunderstood by the new culture.
I’ll choose the present day poets over their grandfathers.
Forward to future poems, not yet penned, I anticipate
written for today, to carry forward to the future.
Please excuse the irony.……
If, you come across this poem…..after I am dead!
Categories:
carry forward, on writing and wordsold,
Form:
Free verse
She was the first to disappear
Behind the mannequin in "Quirk",
And he, from the cretaceous year
Followed like a Rex in dark.
She swallowed a tranquillizer
And that was showing on her cheeks
pink like a shade of amber, and dear
She was blushing like critics.
It could be any of those,
In this world at the moments
Who carry forward the legacy of prose
Of first daters with comments.
We change rooms every hour;
And in the first we never take a cold shower.
A first date - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brenda Chiri
Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty
10th Feb, 2018
Categories:
carry forward, love,
Form:
Sonnet
Life is an interesting phenomenon
Everyone talks about it.
But who knows about it completely?
Is it so difficult to be fathomed?
Having said that it’s not bizarre to comprehend.
All scriptures teach the logics of life.
But the journey of life provides one to make it out better.
If so, why should we read those sacred teachings?
They are the documental evidences
Make us get convinced with what we experience.
But experience is not mandatory to learn so many things.
What does the pedestal of Ozymandias speak?
But what is remained there?
The dangling hands of Alexander the Great teach the noblest truth.
The bloodshed of the Kalinga war transformed Asoka the Great.
Arishadvarga, the six enemies exist in every mind.
There is no exception to any mortal.
They stay in dormant state.
When evil impressions intensified, they unfurl their wings.
Fulfilling desires adds colors to life.
The more you want the more you get tangled and life becomes a Gordian tie.
"Desires are the root cause of all sufferings," Lord Buddha said.
We come and go with empty hands.
Give your best during your sojourn on this platform.
Agape love alone brings the lasting happiness.
Now that we are here
Let's carry forward the call -
“May Ben Adhem’s tribe increase!”
PLACED : 1st
Now that we are here Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
Date: 27-03-2023
Categories:
carry forward, life, love,
Form:
Free verse
You sprinkle golden dust
I read them and feel silky
In dark or light, read I must
Two are toward the path milky
Even in the nursing home
Amidst the smell of illness
Golden dust do roam
Vacuum cries for fullness
I am a dreamful river
You are a flirting ocean
You and I together
Carry forward the fusion
Lo, there the birds call
Let’s go to dancing hall.
Categories:
carry forward, art, beauty, celebration, chocolate,
Form:
Lyric
Feeding the ducklings one day,
I slipped and fell in all the way.
'Though the lake was murky,
the weather was sultry.
I was inclined to stay.
As I floated on my back,
I heard the ducklings quack.
The fluffy clouds rolled by,
an azure coloured sky.
Transported was I
back to my childhood.
Happy times in happy places.
Smiling happy faces.
Sun kissed skin on
sun soaked beaches.
Listening to screeches
of playful children.
Lovely memories to
carry forward in case
of times I may feel morbid.
So, I am glad now that while
feeding the ducklings one day,
I slipped and fell in all the way.
04/05/2016
Categories:
carry forward, bird, happiness, weather,
Form:
Verse
All The Things
Grandma told me to be mindful. She used to tell me that when I was a kid. What exactly that meant did not completely become clear to me, until after she was gone. I was not mindful at all. I missed a load of things I regret.
So the lesson is that mindful, combats and even wins most of the time, against regret. That is a great lesson grandma. You have made me better in life, in ways that just keep surprising me.
Grandma was also watchful. She smoked her cigarette, looked out the kitchen window like a hawk contemplating breakfast, and guarded the door. Not for bad things so much but for company. That way she could quick, get the coffee on. If there were not enough beans in the pot, she could whip out cornbread like no body’s business. Be watchful, was being prepared and never caught off guard.
These were important points later in my hostess skill abilities. My daughter and I won first place for corn bread at the school fair. It is perhaps the proudest piece of paper, now framed and placed with care in our kitchen My grandmother would have been tickled pink. Her lessons keep moving to my daughter now.
Grandpa said often, to watch for small things. I went into his garden every day when I was little. That is where we found the most, “small things” at that time in my life. It was not until later that I found, small things are everywhere. He, my incredible wise grandfather, meant to change the way I looked at life, and he succeeded.
My lesson I carry forward, small things are important. Not so much to you or I, but often they come along, like the sprinkles on a donut. You can live without them if you have too, but that is not really living at all. Grandpa was a brilliant man, that never made it past third grade. He picked cotton, and later drove a big truck to make the roads of Arizona, better for everyone.
Our grandparents and those that take their places are important. They give us things we have no idea we are receiving until they are needed, and the answer is right there… for next generation.
Categories:
carry forward, 12th grade, abortion, absence,
Form:
Narrative