Best Caters Poems
Once love, or rather, that which I thought was love
Swept me over
And had me racing up on a highway
I raced up and up
Till I reached the top most part of a summit
Only to fall
Back down
Broken into pieces
With deep scars
And loose bolts
And, to my horror,
Realized that I had lost a part of me
A part which I needed most
To fit in society
To cater for myself
And to tend to life as well!
Why, at that time,
I had been running after looks
After the impulses of desires
And I had wanted
To fill up an empty space in my heart
Void and vacant, it had hurt so much!
Pray, now that I've matured
And now that I can claim to know love
Love which is so sweet
That it makes me smile at all times
Love which is so melting
That it has become not only my fort
But also my support
My strength
My cause
And of course, my sole purpose in life
Love, have I come to know
Love, runs not after that which is transient
Love, when it is genuine and mature
Caters for the blooming of both the lover and the beloved
Love allows space, makes dreams come true
And even gives way to opportunities
Love, of such kind, I have grown addicted to
For love, of such kind, allows me to retain my individuality
Respects me and has been steadily sewing up
That which has been torn in me
Pray, puppy love is just for social acceptance
Puppy love is just for a show off
To seem glamourous
And to make others envious
But love, true and genuine
Remains discrete
But reveals itself, bared, naked, disrobed and flaming
In between closed walls!
Yes, love, when made of maturity
Remains as a shadow
But becomes the main propelling force!
A warring god of wind storms and lightening,
Rudra, rough looking, well built, braided hair
Golden in color, of firm limbs widening
With streaks of lightening and fearful blares
Making nervous with fear all the beings.
But caters medicines to the world with care
The wind God is the breath bringer to all
Perfumes, caresses and senses at his call.
Rudra sired his wife Deeti with a son
Deeti vowed to keep him in her womb for more years
Letting the child be more and more brawny one.
Indra, the chief deity of heaven, out of fear,
Entered her womb and chopped him with passion
But pieces so strong reformed into numbers.
They were named as Maruts, varied Gods of wind
Who lash the world from end to end with great dins.
They are progeny of Rudra, the bulls of heaven,
Radiant in serried rank free from spots and stains
Who drench the earth with heavy rains uneven.
No one know from where they take shape and rain
Spreading forth darkness during the day time even.
Bring health and wealth in noisy way, but veterans.
*"The winds of God’s grace are always blowing
It is left to us how to set the sails flowing."
+++
*Rudra, Maruts and Deeti are characters in Hindu Mythology*
* Inspired by a quote
December 21, 2014
Third Place win
Form: Ottava Rima - Rhyme Scheme abababcc, dededeff, ghghghii
Sources : Wikipedia - hinduwebsites
I reckon you'll find this tale of romance less fact than fiction,
But please bear with me as I try to give it plausible depiction.
I was about half asleep, musin' on the patio the other day,
When my gaze settled on my ornamental iguana on display.
It reposes on a stump in my rock garden starin' back at me.
It looks so real you'd think it could scamper up my apple tree!
Nearby is a birdbath that caters to squirrels now and again.
(Those dudes have taken over my yard by eminent domain!)
A squirrel dropped by for a snort and after much twitchin' of tail,
Leapt to the stump from the bath, that innocent iguana to assail!
And I'll swear this to be true, he hopped on the iguana's back,
Assumin' a very romantic position that really took me aback!
He lay there awhile claspin' the iguana with his quiverin' feet.
(Peerin' with half-closed eyes I tried to appear discreet!)
Strangely, he glanced at me as if to say, "What shall I do?"
I thought, "Son, I'm not in a position to offer advice to you!"
That lothario fell asleep atop the iguana soakin' up the sun.
In that little tryst, 'twas obvious that the inanimate iguana won!
I pondered, "Should squirrels actually mate with iguanas,
Would not the jungles of Guyana be teeming with squanas?"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
From joining the Union in 2004,
no longer Crowns, but thorns in the Euro Zone.
Dues through Asylum’s open door
Quotas from Italy or Greece,
over casings and from caters,
to step on hope and find peace.
Refugees search for compassion’s border.
Not the miles or cold nights that draw cry,
but new states of natural order
of those with new fence and wire.
Young questions, maybe one more night
with hunger and a shared fire.
Your Honor, I Object
By Elton Camp
Lawyer Louie caters to a special clientele
Only those who are rich and guilty as hell
And, in exchange for his exorbitant fee,
Louie will make sure that they’re set free
He will use ever trick, but never go so far
That the ABA might take action to disbar
All of the prosecution’s witnesses he’ll try
To show they’re incompetent or telling a lie
When the District Attorney starts to close in,
Then Louie will “Your honor I object” begin
He objects to someone able to establish a fact
And from his client’s reputation dare detract
Louie finally found a judge as tough as nails
Who is determined to see that justice prevails
A man who, by such tactics cannot be fooled
Will speaks up and say, “Objection overruled”
Birthed at the heart of an evergreen forest,
Is the seven fairies’ indelible legend’s song-crest;
Incessantly chanted echoing from east to west,
Beckoning everyone to enjoy with a swimming vest.
Its legend started with the maidens’ saddest departures,
Oozed tears from them turned into bluest spring’s grandeur;
To mirror an azure sky’s billowing gown that allure,
Where summer travelers sojourn in their satiated leisure.
Surrounded the blue spring are huge trees with sturdy vines,
To swing or move on branches for high diving boards. Oh, so fine!
Some divers swim in cool waters with fishes in different kinds,
While others wish to fly to view its panorama on zip-lines.
Birthed in the heart of an evergreen forest,
Is the seven fairies’ indelible legend’s song-crest;
Incessantly chanted to be known from east to west,
Blue Hole Spring caters the most relaxing place at its best!
May 20, 2021 11.06am
Famous Blue Hole Spring I know:
Blue Hole Spring -Tuburan, Cebu City, Philippines (Please watch on Youtube)
Free Entrance Fee
Copy cats,
I never liked them,
They stalk like they don't care,
But they do.
They seem glad for your success,
But they are just envied.
They congratulate and hug you,
But they just stab you in the back.
But what they don't know,
Is that you will always be a step ahead,
And they will wander behind.
Just know you are winning,
When you are being copied.. :)
Hard Rock Candy bandit,
Desperado of the Country Club
Fever pitch daydreams wait in line
For heathen sacifice to your hunger.
Foolish mortals - all of them - to beg...
You are a star triumphant - singer of the latest,
Greatest song...
You are the heart blood of acceptance
On the trigger of your gun...
A natural phenomenon glittering in shards;
A veritable weapon
Pointing towards the Sun.
Glossy 8x10's line the room in which you sleep
And dream of paranormal men..
Await the future dining on erotic violence...
And oh...the dreams...
Hypnotic, languid hours of indeterminate meaning
Where reality has no prescence
But one compelling voice
Raised in anger...
And chivalry is not a word for children
Whom the World would lull to ignorance
While the World caters to the negligent....and the cruel.
Someday this World will know you.
Someday this World will know how real you are to become...
And past the void beyond the last dark dream
Your script awaits completion
....In the bottom drawer of a cherry red spaceship
Shaped like your favorite car.
And the dreaming...
And the dreams of sheltered sweetness...
They still abide in patience.
Don't you know, sweet silly child
Hard Rock candy bandits
Always win......
Pale Reflection of the Color of Life
Clear Vision of Evaded Memories
Time is Unstoppable when it does not seem to Move
Love is Painful when it Cares the most
Hopeless Decisions feed the Pain...Especially Now
A Dark Night caters to the Conscience
New feelings that must be Old
Restlessly waiting for Nothing to change
Informed of the Unawareness
Darkness surrounds this Light...Especially Now
Fading thoughts of Dark Years
Close friend Far away
Quiet screaming invades the Noise
Desperation is Unheard
The Night goes on and The Edge bears laughter...Especially now
- an abstract write of an abstract evening
My wife's pets come over me.
I know what your thinking, it's
hard to believe...
There is Lilly and Toro, and Saranac
the cat. I can honestly tell you
they are all her brats.
She caters to them like they had
royal blood. Once in a while I
might get a hug.
I used to be first before they came,
Now our relationship is not quite
the same.
Hi sweetheart remember me. "Get
over it Michael, those are my babies."
One of these days I'll be recognized.
If it's anytime soon, It will be a surprise...
Michael Tor 8/22/2015
For my wife and her animals.
Telephones are a useless reflection of communication as forms of forks do not require such modernity to talk. When planning waltzing with 89 peas for a show that has been advertised globally always be mindful of pods. Pods are anarchical and can cause the peas to wish to jump back into bed. Such a luxury of a green shroud. No sheets necessary in a shell. The wandering significance of a beetroot is characterised always by the remaining stain. Yet whilst clearing this essence it is wise to chant to the plant and dance in a semi circular motion. Beads baked brought baths. And bathing in reed encrusted streams can deliver a view of an alternate skyline deemed very secret. Great isn't it. The introduction of waddling pink animals equals the eradication of crop. No food. Nothing. Yet it can be ascertained that when the smoke was sailing up to the blue moon the ancestral wisdoms would allow for defences and ideas steaming from plants can be very useful. The huge bowl with a diameter of over 5000 feet now caters not for wild but for trotting uniforms. Crater cantering carnage. And carriages carry ornately dressed ladies with parasols. Wow. One cannot tame such an expanse? Put inhabitants into caged areas? Bang bang then gone. Misted views sold. Tailoring a society to adhere to a rule book dominated by two legged earth dwellers. Yet, it is with correction the problem is seen. And much land cries with the entrance of the feathered helmets and the exit of the caretakers of the mother. Sit then many caves. Many caves stood. Digging dwellings decidedly difficult. No ha to this. And no x today nor tomorrow. Subsidence silent. C s b q y colonisation *
My closet, since you ask, is a cramped space,
Chosen and cherished fashionable base,
Essential part of my enchanted place,
With charm and chic to complement my face.
Shows off all hues of my life if I may -
From baby pink to darkest shades of grey,
Reflecting the intended role I play,
Engaging gaily in Societe.
Levi’s slim fit - my favourite by far,
Red miniskirt to storm a local bar,
Sleek diva dress as karaoke star,
Extra large sweatpants, running chores by car.
Stylish business suit for formal dinner,
A little black dress, my boss’ head spinner,
Bikini thongs as hot summer sinner,
Levi’s slim fit still my all time winner!
My closet caters to the latest trend,
Adjusting to occasions I attend.
I love all walks of vogue but in the end,
Levi’s slim fit - my easygoing friend!
Wide range of footwear I wouldn’t omit,
But shoe department in one poem won’t fit.
(The arsenal of bags, a dazzling hit,
So is the lingerie, I must admit).
But if a pair of shoes I ought to pick,
Without moment’s hesitation real quick -
I would grab cowgirl boots, sexy and slick,
Vibing with my Levi’s through thin and thick!
He came into her world unforeseen and uninvited
Adorned in Valyrian Steel amour, overexcited
Enticed her with promises of a neverending love
Made her turn her back on her gentle turtle dove
Heartbroken and rejected she allowed him in
Removed the smoke in her brown eyes like kin
He became her Khal, and her, his Khaleesi
Now they dance to the mighty drums of the Dothraki
She loves him with every artery and fiery passion
Like Lady Stark, she adores his honorable fashion
She caters to his every want and need with joy
Loves without bounds, inhibitions or being coy
Alas, he has taken too much ease, chill and pride
Forgetting to honor her, cherish her as she cried
Treating her as he would an errant gullible child
Regarding her heart with dampened love so mild
The smoke in her eyes makes it hard not to cry
She still loves him like no shilling can ever buy
Like Winter Fell, she prays winter never returns
Hopes his love once again unrelentingly burns
I hear Bells when I take my medicine.
Mr. Tom Bell was a great poetry friend.
UFO’s we always seen.
In our poems people just thought we were crazy.
Insomnia we have always had.
Nuclear waste was in our trash.
He used to tell me about Rosie in the kitchen back in the day.
Then each gig of Hammond and Dire Straits.
We always wanted a convention so every one can meet and play.
Drifting pain like lunar caters.
A vacuum salesman with spandex boxer shorts.
Tom beat the tid-bits then put Listerine soaked tissues under shots.
I miss you Tom Bell
JackReed3
Stray not to evil’s dark enticement,
Instead heed what is good,
Against what’s wrong, in the end bereavement,
For those who failed to stood.
Stray not to debauchery’s wild call,
Tis a short road to death,
A body must not have, so it won’t fall,
Dark appetites be whet.
Stray not towards the vile grasp of lust,
Tis a deep well of lies,
When unfaithful to a loved one, mistrust,
Is bound to weaken ties.
Stray not towards greed and avarice,
Take what’s not yours never,
For to you with dishonour, on a tryst,
Truly beckons hither.
Stray not to accusing of others,
Don’t point a finger too,
Thy hand with no proof hath, when faith teeters,
Four fingers point at you.
Stray not under omnipresent doubts,
No wonder you’ll make it,
If to cold defeat, in life’s countless bouts,
You never will admit.
Stray not to the shadows of revenge,
For it clouds all reasons,
The rule of law prevails, and to avenge,
Is the Devil’s summons.
Stray not to tiresome retrospection,
For the past is the past,
To better what is now, with reflection,
Then thru actions you must.
Stray not to ridicule of others,
Everyone is unique,
It can with sudden turn, then help matters,
The strong becomes the weak.
Stray not to have your oaths be broken,
For your words must be true,
It’s solemnity, be not mistaken,
Is an essence of you.
Stray not to boredom and idleness,
Go pursue a passion,
Unbeknownst sometimes, in our hobbies,
We find our life’s mission.
Stray not into defiling nature,
It’s a God given gift,
It’s unspoilt beauty will have, with nurture,
Weary spirits lift.
Stray not to fooling with vile schemes,
Be righteous in dealings,
When we lose other’s trusts, with wicked whims,
‘Tis of our own failings.
Stray not to self-poisoning envy,
Don’t covet thy brother’s,
Work hard for it won’t, when thou art lazy,
The world for you caters.
Stray not to gambles and moneyed bets,
For bright future it ends,
Your family to, once addiction sets,
Destitution it sends.