Best Chalked Poems
to my kindred soul
...i know you are out there
somewhere on the other side
across cobblestone streets
that scorn my feet, like hearts
on the pathways and wrong turns
of so called love
i've been kissed
but not by your lips
nor with the same passion
as the skies at dawn
i've been wrapped
in the contours of arms
much like the bitter winds
of autumn's sweeping nights
shivering beneath the touches
that left me stranded
on the journey towards you
i hold you in my dreams
on the other side of streams
where tears trickle over the rocks
and the dams hold me back
i searched for you
beneath the lambent moon
through shadows on alleyways
always losing sight
in the harrows of night
i've danced
silently with death
in silhouettes
upon mind's walls
always breaking free
running away, lost
on these sidewalks
of chalked thoughts
yet sometimes i wonder
had i held his hand
would he have led me to you
in another place
another time
does fate await our destiny
on the other side of life...
i still search for you
down cobblestone streets
through the passages of time
as it shifts beneath my feet
stranded, alone
until we meet....
inside my dreams
Written 10/25/2019
Best free verse July-December 2019 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Entered December 8, 2019
In Our Blindness, Chalked Up To Just Be Fate
Life, its complexity truly astounds
astounds this old soul so sadly earthbound
earthbound but not without imagined flight
flight into blue heavens's glimmering night.
Night of ill winds that beggars disbelief
disbelief of blindness that brings dark grief
grief of those lost, dying with no recourse
recourse from disease of war's killing force.
Force spilling blood, war's sad barbaric score
score of flesh and bones, as death demands more
more as heaping mounds of worthless refuse
refuse this world considers of no use!
Life, horrors often born of man's dark hate
Hate's dark blindness, chalked up to just be Fate!
Robert J. Lindley, 11- 21-2019
Chained Sonnet, ( War, Its Savagery And Its Bloody Costs)
( Where Peace And Beauty Can Be Shattered In An Instant)
Perfect 100 words hit...
Syllables Per Line:10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Words::::: 100
Chained Sonnet definition:
Chained Sonnet ( or linked sonnet), is a sonnet that uses the poetic device of chaining.
The elements of the Chained sonnet are:
1. the verse is written in any sonnet form.
2. chained when the end word of the previous line is the first word of the next line.
3. flexible, at the poet's discretion, to bring the sonnet full circle the first word of the sonnet is the last word of the sonnet.
Pasted from http://www.poetrymagnumopus.com/forums/topic/1053-chained-sonnet/
Thanks to Judi Van Gorder for the resource at Poetry Magnum Opus Site.
## Note::Classified as “Gadget” Sonnet, as they have refrain, or have construction or length requirements
which fall outside of the “standard” sonnet area, which generally vary only in meter, line-length,
rhyme pattern or volta requirements. Reference:: http://poetscollective.org/everysonnet/gadget-sonnets/
Source: http://forums.familyfriendpoems.com/topic.asp?TOPIC_ID=130578
Colorful Me LSD
Kaleidoscope euphoric psychedelic dreams
Rainbows colour perfect peaches and cream
Splashes orgasmic silhouettes of tiny screams
Cobalt rain droplets in a sunny set theme...
Tiny pearl spiders spin opaque webs in my spine
Snow plowed glass hazards in white chalked up lines
In awe to see so artfully the world in this design
Cosmic Being floating heavenly sure I am just fine...
Static electricity behind my waterfall aqua eyes
Oceans of misery as I bid a colorful goodbye
Back to mortality in a black and white world full of lies
Lucy in the sky in tiny blue diamonds she cries...
05/31/16
Second row to the board!
These words could not just be ignored
I’m thinking but a vintage few
Would even start to have a clue
Nostalgia begs those days at school
With steely nuns whose stare would rule
Blackboards and their squeaky clamor
Chalked Arithmetic and grammar
When called upon to diagram
By row, we took final exam
Our sentence structure, now to see
Whose brain has not been absentee
With prepositions, verbs and nouns
We hit the boards, such eager sounds
Arms held tight, just the right angle
Participles must not dangle!
for F. A.
You, in going a little way from yourself
Have gone a long way from my gullible ilk.
« I’m trying hard not to like you, » you said
The breaths of several men surging in your nostrils
And the stench abraded in your flesh :
« You are unshaven. »
You took proper care to remember the right words :
« Why are you so far away, I cannot reach you. »
The ****** you probably tried to fake –
Thanks for the repeated protestations -
Blew all the other exhausted noises through.
« I think it’s all this lack of sleep and all that, » you said
Trapping me with your alien scents.
You have gone away more than a little from yourself.
I have felt and avoided the humiliation in your voice :
« Turn out the lights. I’m afraid
You’d never like me again. »
These are bothersome words.
Only constant repetition make them less wearisome.
One whole week you waited and watched.
One by one you chalked us down.
We fled, not so much from you
As from ourselves, not knowing which
You or the condemned flower to take :
« Why don’t you tell me something about yourself.
I’ve said enough, » you said and came closer
Wraithed in your trapper's overflying airs.
Now that you have prospected a little
Confiscated my intimate thoughts, coaxed my ego
Applied the guileful balms which embolden
A man in bed and made of the future a promise
And turned and sighed like the unwanted thing
Now that you have preyed in my sanctuary
Gazed long in wistful silence my empty shrine
How can I let you go – take my scent
And mix it till it roots in other flesh
And wandering, I’ll not know why someday
I might fret in the company of familiar strangers.
« What about the lad ? » Alone and wishfully loitering
« Oh, let him toss and turn. Why shouldn’t he ?
He’ll write better then, » you said, for once
Rippling the nimble calm embossed on feigning face
That poised flutter of your lips when words you wield
Assume a dextrous innocence
Little wonder then the sensually provoked blushes
Cross-fertilise the loping lurk of your poems.
You in going a little way towards me
Have gone a long way from yourself.
Before you go a little way prospecting
Leave leave a little of yourself in your safe.
©: T. Wignesan, 1965 (from the collection: tell them i'm gone, 1983, rev. 2012)
The skeletal remains are being chalked out,while mystery and intrigue are engraven, cryptic.Lying beneath, this freshly seeded idea;upon these grounds, the words are etched,what are you looking for and how will you get it,for these are but the bare bones of a story.The key alone is in your closet, slowly turning,as you opened the creaking rusted door.You slowly peep inside the mausoleum of your mind,where cobwebs hang on every angle.Suddenly, a cold swift draft blows across your spine,as if someone has just, walked on your grave. You look up to see, all the entrapping’s laidbut then again, you are still lying in a good plot.
Squeezing out a saturated rag.
Torn asunder, pieces of a heart.
Head, eyes, lips, arms — sore-sag.
I’d thought I’d known weeping.
I was only dreaming; nightmares
hidden in caves, silently creeping.
A mime’s hand, waving away his smile,
pocketed in eternity’s change purse.
“Geez,” muttered, as a flood beguiles.
Tempest, no longer outside home’s border.
It’s kicked in the door! Like a king it reigns,
stores up blankets and dust like a hoarder.
One who never kept account of compassion,
relentlessly unprotected, battered with emotion.
Comes crashing in - all sixty years of marital passion.
Still, I’m touched by such all-encompassing love.
The upside-down of Happily Ever-After, close to hell,
and yet, something’s birthed…he puts on a glove,
understanding the cruel depths, others have walked.
O those years upon years of deaf, dumb and blind.
The shadow of death, in his own backyard, chalked.
I’m touched by heart-wrenching mortar.
Silent is the grave of urned ashes —
a cheerleader of son and daughters.
Family forms a chain, squeezing of hands.
Scent of cordial roses in the squall.
Cross purposes - we’re no longer an island.
7/19/2021
Touch My Heart
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Hebrews 4:15-16 NIV: For we do not have a high priest (Jesus) who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses…Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.
*Just as Jesus sympathizes with us, so we sympathize with each other, as we gain knowledge about suffering and death.
These days I feel as if I'm being consumed
by worry and uncertainty.
Unsure of exactly what to do or whom to see
regarding issues of my health
has robbed me of the calm that once cradled me
in the nights of my soundest sleep.
Once I was the epitome of calmness and stability.
Though a bit anxious, I chalked this up to a little nervous "energy."
My feelings rang with gratitude and gladness
although the voice of all my emotions was almost always small.
Laughing loudly, on the other hand, was the sound of my greatest pleasure!
Even today, my emotions are not often loud.
Despite current feelings of betrayal and disappointment,
and also of great anger,
I rarely bellow.
Feeling often overwhelmed, I muddle through.
I've plenty of nervous energy still.
And almost every day I find time for comedy.
I guffaw loudly at my favorite sitcoms,
remembering that laughter, after all, is the best medicine.
Jan. 4, 2019 for Caren Krutsinger's "My Loudest Feelings" Poetry Contest
From a tender age I felt a strain with my mother
She labelled me “highly strung” I irritated her!
I struggled through life, desperate for her affection
The harder I tried to please, the greater the divide.
She loved my brothers, I could never understand
Saddened, I turned to my father, he was my rock.
I chalked it down to not meeting her expectations.
Years passed, I ended the struggle with mother
I married and was blessed with children of my own.
Realising that each child is unique, so different
I wondered for years how this could be so......
They were both born from us, the same parents
We raised them with the equal values and norms
The opposites they are, never ceases to amaze me.
I love my children, embrace their individuality.
Encourage them to be free, to be just as they are.
My children will always be treated as equals
Loved unconditionally, I have no expectations
Forever proud of these two powers in my world
I remain in awe at the achievement of them!
I thought of one of my nephews before I wrote this, God bless him please
He's from a western land where the hustla's real,
And the thugs'll steal,
Brothers'll kill for the love o' bills,
Tryin' to get a mill[million],
Means much blood'll spill
So his forte's to scheme & die fo',
Gettin'that cream[money] & lie low,
Then hittin' up his rivals
An eye for an eye
and dealin' with street survival,
Makes him drift back to his childhood,
When it was much peace & all good,
But now he gets no sleep
He creeps deep in foul hoods,
Where bodies get chalked & the crowd stood,
In amazement,
Witnessin' homicide engravements on the pavements,
Too much of this misbehavement,
Has the communities decaying
and too many youngsters fall before their prime,
And the harsher the crime, steeper the prison time,
But he was born a product in a wicked jungle,
Bred to run amongst those who are far from humble,
And addicted to makin' they're funds grow,
And plus they're quick to stun those,
Who gets victimized by the hoods jurisdiction,
A whole slew of unsolved crimes
with very few convictions,
And justice is missin',
Because this lifestyle is opposite of fiction,
So he marches through ghetto life
with his hard hat & boots on,
Still focussed on gettin' his loot on,
While killers get their shoot on,
Many of them shoot wrong,
So innocent bystanders been dying for too long,
But he continues to move on,
As 1 of the Young, Wicked & Black
Gleaming in the sun, my cherry-red skin
Low, throaty purring, ready engine’s sound
Over the chalked line, tires screech, we begin
Road blurs, turquoise Mustang fades, I am crowned
Yesteryear still lives in my heart, tearing
Days of rusted glory are never drowned
Ages since I’ve seen the face of caring
You stop your car and stare with knowing grin
Springsteen’s song on your radio, blaring
6/12/16
© By Author
For contest: Rusted and Busted
Sponsor: Casarah Nance
Terza Rima Rhyme scheme ababcbcac
10 syllables/line
The impressionist's young daughter
stands poised before an open door
Occupied in thought she wears
a red apron much darker
than her hair with a pony tail,
then a revelation stirs her curiosity-
outside trees are frosted with snow.
The chilly breeze swiftly enters and makes
the long curtains behind her flutter;
it feels colder than the Iceland wind,
Hesitant, she stays inside in the warmth.
Inside the room, her mom
smudges pastels onto
drawing. The child watched.
Mom captured her daughter's
wonderment in each chalked line.
Upon completion, child and
and painting; are compared;
the child won't be
able to distinguish
impressionism from realism.
The artist sought- after and
amply admiring this work
for the right- other sights
for her chosen colors
and creative images. Her hand
gave life to seasonal
landscapes, or blank faces
which stare straight at us
with an air of mystery.
From a background gloomy or gaudy-
they make us feel a sense of suspense.
.
Tonight, the horizon burns like metal
Molted and shot from a mouth of fire
The trees stand scorched, coal-chalked pictures
In the sky hangs a fleeting smile
Molted and shot, from a mouth of fire
Twisted from wire, but tender, yet to be shaped
In the sky hangs a fleeting smile
The work of an artist, holding beauty in crude hands
Twisted from wire, but tender, yet to be shaped –
The trees stand, scorched coal-chalked pictures
The work of an artist holding beauty, in crude hands
tonight. The horizon burns like metal.
Copyright 2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Poetic Lyrics By Thomas Lam Hsi
Billowing clouds...of...rainfall....puffing down...as a Winter blanket!
Winds...traded down...as...nomads...circling 'round...Island swells!
An ancient...lantern...an orb...of dispersed...graying...eyes!
Starry nights...in the midst of...receding...mid-night veils!
A sailor's dream...a beacon...of faceted-jewels...descending down...as an
Avalanche...of a blanketed...waterfall!
The gentle swaying...of a love song...as a symphony...between the trees...
And the wind!
The chant of aloha...an ancient land...of love...and legend!
Flowers...as a...misting rain...of glorious...and...varied...puffing clouds!
Rain-forests...cloaked admist...the trickling sounds...of pebbled-ebbing...
water-flows!
A cacophany...of feathered...flight...swaying as the silken hands...
Of the tender...billowing clouds!
Endless beauty...magnificient...to behold...a trail of legend...and lore!
White sand beaches...pitched sands...softened...by Pacific Island...swells!
A voyager's...storied discovery...of an ancient...royal land...of peace...and love!
From chalked...and hued...canyons...to bluish...green...waterfalls!
Emerald crystals...glisten-ing...under...foaming...tides!
The land of aloha...a dream...a lover...and a...friend!
Never...to leave...a heart of diamonds...and a...soul...to live forever!
My Hawaii...my...lover...of old...and...my children's...children...forever!
Poet's Own Notes:
Royal Ohana of Kealoha, a 'crested' motto, "Spirit and soul...mind and body...
forever vested in the character and nature of the Hawaiian Islands and people!"
THERE IS ONLY ONE TRUE GOD...THE LORD GOD ALMIGHTY...WHO ALONE CAN
SAVE FROM Satan...who plays 'all' roles...the devil...the 'Lord Jesus'...
the 'Father'...the 'Holy Spirit'...all 'Other Gods'...and 'alien gods'...HE...THE
LORD JESUS CHRIST HIMSELF IS FULLY GOD AND MAN...AND HE ALONE...
IS THE ONLY WAY TO GOD THE FATHER...and to an Actual Heaven!
I forgot how to write
My God it's not sounding right
The way I'd shape my face by phrase on a page
The shades I'd make cry, pray, and praise your name
Out of the blue you chalked me on cue
To change the hue of my attitude
You say "I'll pull it right out of you
And carry this, your arrogance
An arrow in
My vow to you"
So what do I do when I've lost my voice
And need a ploy just to prove my choice
When it's true that
That I'm the biggest fool on the planet but
But I'd be a tool to wanna change it 'cause
'Cause I'm a lion in a strange land
I'm untamed maybe I'm deranged and
I can't say I'm a safe man
I don't sell my soul, although you know I'd
I'd go render my last cel-shaded gold
Through a bold
But hidden code
Where love and hate they'll mold fixated in a humble abode
You see I'm not perfect
And for sure you've heard it
Oh it's true that
That I'm the biggest fool on the planet but
But I'd be a tool to wanna change it 'cause
'Cause I'm a lion in a strange land
I'm untamed maybe I'm deranged and
I can't say I'm a sane man
No I can't say I'm a safe man
So I can't say I'm a sane man
No I can't say I'm a sane man
So I can't say I'm a safe man