Best Chapter Poems
With pitchforks and torches they rode through the night,
their goal was Milton Creek, by dawns early light.
A surprise attack was what they had foreseen,
led by the infamous, lollipop queen.
With a group of ringed men, she’d deceived and collected,
they rode for the jail, for the first one she’d infected.
In shackles and chains, her best awaited his trial,
I can’t say his name, so we’ll just call him Kyle.
Old Kyle was arraigned for a snake oil ruse,
he claimed to sell medicine but was just peddling booze.
They stopped just out of town by farmer Bill’s pig pen,
where they all shared a lollipop, and a *Cornish game hen*.
Rested and fed, they all headed for town,
their plan was to free Kyle and turn his frown upside down.
There were many new graves that we helped Mayor Tom to dig,
we could smell them all coming, they were pungent like a pig.
Little did they know how Milton Creek was protected,
we watched each other’s back, and our defense was perfected.
David and Terry, were perched on the roof of the jail,
I stood right out front with my leaded cocktail.
Tania and Jan were on the top of the saloon,
Milton was keeping watch, as he played a catchy tune.
Deb was on the ground, locked and loaded,
Lin had Jenna’s Winchester and some dynamite to be exploded.
*a Cornish game hen is produced from a cross between the Cornish and white Plymouth rock chicken breeds, it is served young and immature weighing no more than two pounds*
“Next Chapter”
There will always be a next chapter
Written or not, this is of no matter
What matters is the colour forming in your world
Black is not a colour, it dominates, shades and swallows other colours up,
It exists to be blended with White, a vacant aberration one can easily fill in and colour over
What one is looking for is the colour in the spectrum, not yet found
To be newly created with all available emotions to hand and heart and mind
There will always be a next chapter
Written or not, this is of no matter
What matters is the colour forming in your world
Beginning
End? there never is an end
What matters is the colour forming in your world
(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 March)
Semantics
The Game Changer- continued
Coming with the new days rays glow
Here is how these words did flow
There be this red fire ant see
During the battle of these clones
Sam Anti-x Jones
And how she/he came to be
Small drop of dew on blade of grass
Smell of burning smoke in the field
Insects and all alike break right
Fires dew light Sam’s middle eye
Dew says, take me to mountain rose
Sam Antix did hesitate
Though grabs the grass with blade of dew
Due too, drink me know says the dew
And trust no harm will come to you
So, Sam Antix swallows the drop dew
Transformation takes place too
Same the fire ant grew
Heart, Head, Harmonizing
Offering, Optimistic, Opportunity
Self, Shinning, Star
Creator, Creating, Cause
Made, Me, Match
Engulfing, Embodying, Evolving
Deciding, Destiny’s, Dream
From hell to heaven
Dark fires aide Sam Antix
Climb to mountain top
I may be just a little white candle
With a little light on me
Even if I melt
I will hold my last little light
With a hope to warm someone's heart
Even for a while.
I may be just a little white candle
With the most heartwarming little light
I burn my own precious life
Just for you to see the bright world
Bringing the brightness together with me
In every smile
Before i melt
Even for a while.
Blessed are the poor in spirit.
Theirs is God’s kingdom.
Many blessings from God…
They shall receive them!
Blessed are they who mourn.
They shall be comforted.
In the loving arms of Jesus,
they shall be well rested!
Blessed are the meek.
They shall inherit the earth.
And shall receive from Jesus.
A “brand new birth!”
Blessed are they who hunger for
righteousness. They shall be filled.
A desire to know more of God…
has been instilled!
Blessed are the merciful. God’s mercy
they shall obtain.
As they’re an expression of Jesus’
wonderful name!
Blessed are they with a pure heart. They shall see God!
Though many in this world, may think they’re “odd.”
Blessed are those who are persecuted
for God’s kingdom.
They share their testimony for Christ,
to those who receive them!
Blessed are you when others persecute you
and accuse you falsely.
Rejoice in the power of God!
He loves you most assuredly!
Rejoice that heaven shall one day
be your reward!
So YOU can rule and reign
with Jesus our lord!
Blessed are we who serve Christ…
The anointed one!
Blessed are God the father.
The Holy Spirit. And the Son!
By Jim Pemberton 10/31/10
Read Matthew 5:3-12
Through the gap between the closed drapes
A maid peers in a daze
An ashtray upon the table
Held her undiffused gaze
Clearly there was bright red lipstick
Circles upon some butts
A golden earring lies close by
Lying cheat drives her nuts
The fog lifted revealing all
Airline ticket back home
A scoundrel, cheater, liar, creep
In the night he does roam
A teardrop fell upon the floor
As the click opened lock
He slept peacefully this last night
Gun shots silenced by the clock
An airline ticket now possessed
Swifter than that jet plane
Around the block to catch the same
Click, clack the sound mundane
Last chapter typed upon white sheets
The typewriter now still
Headlines plastered across front page
Lovers in motel were killed
Sponsor: Giorgio AV
Contest: Structured Forms
Author: Sara Kendrick
Written: December 6, 2014
This is written in a type of Poulter's Measure
Actually each stanza is two fourteen syllable couplets
but broken down into 8,6,8,6 with the rhymes on the 6
Some lines might be a little off..
Chapter
I'm sorry
I'm an *******
I'm not sure
how this began
but it must end.
If we continued,
I couldn’t face myself
in the mirror
as I can’t look
into your eyes.
Now.
My wife and I
have a history
of interdependency
and failing
but there are
huge expectations
in our children’s eyes.
They are my story
I'm but a sorry chapter
in your tale
which we should never
have opened
and now must,
sadly, close
I'm sorry
I'm an *******
but this
must end.
DWR - Ianuarius
MCMXCVII
Footnote
I’m sorry you feel
this must end.
Sorrier that you are
feeling badly.
While you are not
sure how it started,
I’ve known how we
would end up
the moment I laid
eyes on you.
While you think to me
you are but a sorry chapter.
In truth,
you are like the footnotes of my existence --
explaining a source of my preferences;
providing additional relevant material;
suggesting other areas to explore;
clarifying unclear parts.....
I’m sorry you feel
this must end.
Sorrier that you are
feeling badly.
While we have
spouses that need us,
I think we do enjoy
and need each other.
Flashette Jan 24 1997
post and echo of an imaginary affair
The horn blew as the wind picked the same moment
The note carried over the field and picking up speed
All memories of him drifted away as the bugle went silent
But she remained until the last rose
Later she would remember his last words
He had told her he would never forget her
And like the last star that goes where stars go
She went there as well
She went to that last rose and was comforted
She could feel his hands
She could smell his scent
And she saw the uniform and the horn
They met when he returned from the war and he had limped
He limped with warmth and with no complaint
They had one son but he did one too many bags
He carried his bags up his arm
And there was no bugle or wind
But there were roses and tears
They got through it with love and his limp
They sat on the porch rocking and remembered
Until his limp grew slower and the horn played
But the rose ...............
Chapter and Verse
Borrowed words
Overdue loans
On faded words
Tears melting ink
Wisdom's die
Collection time
Bankrupt soul
With no words to share
Overdue books
Wine splashes the pages
Of my mind
Melancholy whispers to me
Here, here
The past sings me a song
Withered books
Our collective memories
Buried in the pages of history
Sad Chapters
I danced
I drank
Love and wine
Penelope Sosa
Stole heart and mind
Debts paid
Her beauty refined
Lonely betrayal
I dine on sad chapters
As wine still splashes the page
The last Verse
Mathematical potions
Equations that dream
A soft kiss lade upon my sleeping heart
Is it you? Is it you that lightens my soul?
Spread your wings for me
I shall smell the sweet scent
Of your poetic juices
As we lay entwined
Inside the last verse
Let me write one chapter of my life
A chapter that is free from brokeness
One word built upon another
That foundation word is agape love
Pity that some of the foundations laid remain
Amiss because the most important stone
A foundation stone from above was absent
That rock, brick, or cement block weakened
Nothing solid to hold it together just pile of stones
That is shaky or brick with no morter _ready to crumble
First little tremor or heavy rain and the rock moves
One and then another soon the safety net of home gone
Let the final chapter read the foundation repaired
The home saved looks better today than at anytime
Freshly painted, floors repaired, comes with all modern
Appliances, looks better than when it was built eons ago
(Used some metaphoric language with irregular meter)
Into a Mirror Darkly
stared He upon his throne
intense He studied starkly
gazing as He sat prone
Into the Nothingness
His eternal eyes pried
in doing so creating Darkness
and His undoing there He spied
"You giveth me inward sight"
Said He, staring into the Void
"And I your shadow to every Light."
Said It, stepping from the Void
From the One there were Two
"From the Me there came the You"
Said God to the shade
"From my light your shadow is now made"
"Why do I exist?"
Said It to his God
Its questions continued to persist
Yet He only sighed with a nod
"I maketh you in reason
as well as in rhyme.
A purpose for your treason
you will learn in due time."
The Dark Shade did then ponder
as God sat idly with a smile
"And then what shall I do, I wonder."
Thought the Shade, grinning all the while
Though I may speak with the
tongues of angels and men…
Without God’s love, I am empty within.
I’d become as sounding brass
and a tinkling cymbal.
In God’s kingdom, I would not be instrumental.
Though I may have the gift of prophecy
and mysteries untold…
Without God’s love, I am just
simply growing old.
Though I may have the faith to move
a mighty mountain…
Without God’s love, I am simply
an “empty fountain.”
Though I may attempt to do
good and feed the poor…
Without God’s love, there’s nothing
worth living for!
His love suffers long, and is very patient and kind.
It is everlasting and will endure the test of time.
His love is not rude nor is easily provoked…
It doesn’t seek evil, nor is unequally yoked.
His love bears, hopes and endures all things.
It rejoices in whatever a good report brings.
It never fails, where prophecies and
knowledge shall pass away.
His love will encourage you in
what you do and say.
There remains faith, hope and a special
gift from above.
This is an eternal gift that we call his love.
Won’t you accept his gift and start believing?
This special gift… YOU too can be receiving!
By Jim Pemberton
Read 1 Cor. 13 1-8 and 13
Life is lived as a book, so I’m told
and we live out this story in chapters.
And we even write of the stories we’ve lived
and regale with tales of our adventures.
Our childhood is a myriad of stories
filling chapter and chapter with discovery,
wonder, angst, joy, everything in growing up.
Our teens are chapters of pain, confusion and
experimentation. Temptation. Rebellion and growth.
Young adulthood … ah, sweet love. Career, family.
First foray into independence and building a family.
Then chapters for kids, school, braces, college …
Then they grow up and move out. Weddings, grandkids
retirements and IRA’s. The book is expanding.
But this book is predictable. This is the Brady Bunch.
Where is the crisis, the divorce or the addiction?
Where is the mental illness or the adulterous affair?
Where is the poverty, the abuse, unknown calamity or death?
If life is truly a book, then we write our chapters as we go.
There is no cookie-cutter life to stamp out and imitate.
Life is fluid, moving, changing, consuming, powerful,
destructive in its unrelenting, impersonal path.
This is the end of this chaotic chapter, a fresh page awaits.
Too many of my chapters are chaotic and destructive.
While the next chapter can’t be written until it has been lived,
I will make it a chapter worth remembering.
One I will want to read again, and again.
A short while later the most attractive man
she had ever seen entered
the bank. Lost in his good looks Kenya
had to find the words "May I help
you?" He introduced himself. " Yes my
name is Malik Maxwell Williams.
I would like to open an account". "Mr.
Williams please follow me to my
office". Malik was in Kenya's office for
twenty minutes before making his
departure. Kenya made it up in her mind
that she would get to know Malik
on a personal level. Kenya lived a rather
dull life unto the point she decided
to get involved with Malik. Kenya was a
plain looking black woman in her
30's who never had any real luck with
men. The next day was Saturday so
it was Kenya's day off. She spent most of
her time paying bills and shopping.
She pulled into the Emerald Lady
parking lot got out
of her 2003
BMW and went inside. Looking for
something to make Malik notice her.
Kenya picked out a low cut v-neck red
top, a short black skirt that flattered
her figure, and black knee high boots.
Kenya paid $236 for the attention of a
man.
I must be crazy thought Kenya as she
handed the cashier the money. Walking
back through the Emerald Lady parking lot
Kenya bumped into Nubia her one and only
friend.
Written by Keith Edward Baucum aka Red
Seven aka The Green Poet
aka The Brown Philosopher
(A Life Worth Living)
Chapter 1
Seems I have to accept you are gone from my life
Though in truth you were really a minor
Who became major leaguer, in spite of the facts,
On the day that you called me grandfather.
We adopted each other for better or worse,
A blood bond formed with poetry’s heartbeat.
Childless senior who shared your unspeakable loss,
Youthful poetry: watering my life,
Both my marriages barren (I guess it was fate)
Your real family gone in an instant.
It was mother’s last gift to push you from their car
(Barely hanging from cliff and on fire),
She succeeded to launch oldest girl from the nest
Though she failed at extracting your brother.
It was mom’s love of life that gave birth to your muse
When you woke a month later from coma!
Though you missed out on closure of family wake
Now you honor their lives with your talent,
And weep poetry’s tears you can no longer fight
With your brother, just memory fading. (1)
Brian Johnston
July 8, 2016
Poet's Notes:
Neethu Panicker was a 16 year old female poet on PoemHunter.com when I first
became acquainted with her. Suffering from depression and complications from
brain trauma after her fall and she eventually withdrew from PoemHunter and
may now be deceased. With her leaving PoemHunter all our correspondence
disappeared so this poem comes mainly from my memory of her many emails
to me.
There will be several more Chapters to this poem as I find time to write them
and every word is a faithful paraphrase of her life as she shared it with me. We
never met, so a caution, she could be a fictional character though I personally
want to believe her story is true. I will do my best to share this amazing story
for I may be the only one who can. I do apologize for the serial nature of this
“poem” but it is really quite an undertaking as time will reveal.
(1) Her only extant work "MISS YOU BRO" that I know of can be found on my
PoemHunter.com site under the title "Ph: Poem En Duo: Views Of A Dark
Canyon" and on PoetrySoup.com under the title "Views Of A Dark Canyon:
Poems En Duo 1."