Best Climb On Poems
Shadowed in the silent room, the daylight's nearly gone
Dusk climbs in through window glass, with one last ray of sun
I start the task, climb on a chair, reach up to shelves so high
to mother's boxes neatly stacked, and dust gets in my eyes
I take one down, to look inside and sit upon a chair
I find some musty linens, laces needing some repair
Discovering old photographs, the year was '42
Her face was smooth as porcelain, unblemished, young and new
Old documents and letters, a history unveiled
Her letters, torn and yellowed, such stories they would tell
The next box held small china cups, so lovingly embellished
And then I found a book of verse, inscribed with poems she relished
Some dresses stained and wrinkled, their fabric thin and tattered
Were once a thing of beauty, as if they really mattered
Her jewelry, gold and silver, some lovely rings and brooches
A warm sensation circles me, her presence now approaches
I sense a change come over me, and fleeting leave of gloom
The darkness of the evening lifts, as sunlight fills the room
She wraps her warmth around me, her fragrance in the air
My loneliness is free to go, I know that she is there
Among these things, I find the last, the smallest box of all
Inside it are the baby clothes, I wore when I was small
A letter there to tell me that she knows the tears I've cried
Her words of love that never died, they fill me up inside
These treasures speak her words to me, and now that I am grown
She wants to tell her story, those parts I've never known
I've heard her voice, while sitting here, among her china flowers
I"ve found such peace, she's next to me, to spend these quiet hours
____________________________________________________________
Written 6/8/2008
Submitted to Contest: "Old Jewelry or Just Old Things or Old,
Old Poems/Poetry Contest "
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Under the Christmas tree sits a nativity scene in the old town square. I sit on a rustic wood bench and reminisce on the stories I’ve been told about Jesus being born on Christmas Day. When all of a sudden, I hear movement in the bushes; I turn my head and look over my shoulder. With a sudden fright, a tall pure white stallion with feathered wings, steps forward and says, “My name is Peg, climb on my back and I’ll take you to where it all began.” I arose to my feet and got on Peg’s back, held on tightly to his mane. He galloped off at full speed facing into the wind and took off soaring into the night full of stars, being guided by a large, bright, glowing star.
Peg turned his head and said, “That is the Christmas Star ahead.”
As I looked down below, I saw coming from the east, three men. Could they be the three Wise Men?
As we reach the star we slow down to a town. Peg said, “This is Bethlehem down below.”
Peg starts descending close to a stable and lands. I anxiously dismount and we both walk towards the stable. My spirit was overpowered with awe, there in the small dim lite stable, we found a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger, with his mother Mary kneeling beside Him.
The shepherds that were watching their flocks near the stable also came all elated, one of them said, “An angel appeared and told us a Savior, the Messiah, had been born and that we would find Jesus laying in a manger. So, we immediately came to see if truly Jesus our Savior was born.”
The three Wise Men arrived and said, “Where is He who has been born King of the Jews? For we have seen His Star in the East and have come to worship Him.” They gazed at the young Child and immediately fell down and worshiped Him, they presented their gifts to him of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
We stayed for a while in admiration of our Lord Jesus.
After a time, Peg said, “I need to get you back before you are missed.”
Together we flew into the endless night back home to the Christmas tree where I had been before.
11/18/2014 © 2014
Of all the mammals living on the land,
the elephant is largest of that kind.
But if I were an elephant, I’d show
the largest also were my heart and mind!
If I could be this beast, here’s what I know:
I’m not some made-up Dumbo that can fly.
I socialize; I grumble, and I need
a jumbo size of tissues when I cry!
My hearing is superb, but did you know
that I can even listen with my feet?
I put my trunk down by my feet and hear
vibrations, and that’s one astounding FEAT.
It’s obvious I’m strong. My trunk alone
has forty-thousand muscles, and guess what?
I’ll wrap my trunk around you, for BIG LOVE
means I’ll be giving great big hugs a LOT.
I cannot see too well. Nor can I jump,
but with my padded feet, I softly walk,
I am so skilled, for peanuts I won’t work!
But first I need to teach myself to talk!
Because if I can talk, I’ll speak out for
my fellow elephants endangered by
the foolishness and cruelty of those
who harm us when we’re in such short supply!
We’re also more than stunts inside a tent.
And though our skin’s as thick as an old shoe,
we have compassion, and we mourn our dead.
As feeling creatures, we should have rights too!
Now even though we elephants are huge,
and probably I weigh at least a ton,
I love to laugh and play! Climb on my back
and take a ride. You’ll see that I am fun.
I hope you see that I’m a lot like you.
So take care with your fat jokes around me
because it’s very true what people say.
I now have got amazing memory!
12/10/16
Word Quintet in C Major
By Stark Hunter
Open the door my friend,
Climb on in,
Join me here in this relentless caravan,
This unstoppable, this incontrovertible,
this inexorable movement,
To the depths of the dry gulf.
Join me here my friend,
In this annihilating armada,
This incontrovertible migration,
This inexorable swarm
To the watery crossroads of the dry places,
To the liquid asphalt of insipid time!
I stare at you from across the room here.
I stare and gawk and hawk at you,
And I feel the pelting rain of desire.
You look good over there, sitting
With beautiful gleaming crossed legs.
“Sorry, beg your pardon,
I say, but have we not met before?
Did we not share beers on the Terrace of Tyre
At sunset?
Did we not tell each other stories,
Old stories of love and betrayal and heartbreak?
At sunset?
Did we not look away from each other,
When stories of new love suddenly emerged,
As with a new sunrise?”
My friend, there is no
Escape from this throbbing hole, no
Escape from this cold numbing wind,
This whirlingly insane wind
Of cold blasts of killing ice.
And I ride here
Ride like a sweating Sultan,
Astride the mighty beast of Tyre!
Perched high in rich raiment,
I wave to the multitudes
I send a salute to the throng!
I ride shotgun here
Ride nice and easy
Like a tanning garçon on his off day,
Like a sitting trog waiting wistfully,
Waiting waiting for gams not intended for him.
My friend, the world turns and turns,
It turns today and tomorrow,
It will turn as the river turns in spring,
It will turn as a woman’s heart turns,
When eyes that once stared ahead, now look away.
It will turn my friends because it has to!
Riding, Riding, Riding….
Downhill now! The insane wind
Assaults me. Harasses me. Accosts me.
It presses its loose lips upon my face,
It seeks the mad blood of passion!
“Let us calm ourselves
Reassure ourselves
That all is right and as planned.
Let us all look at one another!
Let us all nod in agreement!
The days ahead will manifest themselves,
Transfigure themselves,
As blooms upon the water lilies.
I woke up at the break of dawn,
with the feeling that all hope is gone,
I was not sure where to begin,
but I was determined to win.
No dazzling stars,
no visible moonlight,
no chirping birds,
to tease my empty words.
I walked through the door with a subtle grin,
nursing bruises all over my skin.
I tried to escape yesterday’s punishment,
and saturate my mind with hope and fulfillment.
Walking down the dark empty street,
a cab stopped exactly at my feet,
I hired him to take me to the mountains,
to breath out the stagnant air
and repair my body’s wear and tear.
His grouchy voice thundered through my ears,
he spoke with a strange accent that I could hardly hear,
It passes through one ear, and suddenly disappears.
We journeyed through sleeping towns,
they stared at us without a sound,
steep hills and rocky path,
bending streets and winding roads
dumping my burdensome loads.
He made a sudden turn,
and I felt a sensational yearn
spilling over in my soul.
Mother nature bursts from the horizon
and filled my heart with glad tidings.
Layers of mountains blink at me,
taking me up and down the gigantic tree
guiding me to my unseen dreams,
while patches of green and sun burnt grass
prepare the city for the morning mass.
I saw her bursting through the thick grey clouds,
and I stopped the car and spoke to her aloud,
I climb on top of a nearby rock,
and reached towards her and interlock.
I was just in time for the meeting,
Oh how my soul yearns for this healing.
Mother nature looked at me with a grin
she shook my hand,
and said, “where shall we begin?”
I lamented the troubles of my piercing heart,
and requested for a balance start.
What took you so long?
I know that you have been hurting all along,
and I have been waiting for you to prove them wrong.
“Worry no more,
I am going to fulfill the desires of your burning soul,
look around and tell me what you see,
observe carefully and you will agree.
Let me ignite your body and soul,
and sooth the sorrows that you bore,
sleepless nights,
daily fights,
unfair treatment,
and treacherous lies.
The meeting came to an end,
and I felt free again,
the peshmerga drove up the steep hill
and greeted me with goodwill
Dawn fully broke out into broad day light,
and filled my soul with joy and delight.
©2013 Christine Phillips
I remember a riding pony I had as a lad which was born blind. A filly she was born during an
Arkansas blizzard and we did not know that she was blind at first for we kept our horses in our
barn for several days because of the winter storm. We all had fallen in love with her by the time
we learned she was blind and could not bear to put her down. I remember training her to ride
after she was mature enough and I named her “Pet” for she was my riding pony.
We spent many happy days together riding inside the green pastures.
I remember she never refused to let me ride her even the first time. And she learned very
quickly to respond to my voice and she trusted in every command that I gave her.
I would say, “easy Pet” when we would come to rough terrain or an eroded ditch in the
pasture. She would slow to a careful walk, in response to my voice.
I would ride her down into the lower part of the pasture to the creek in hottest part of the day.
Pet could of course smell the water and when she would come near the bank of the creek I
would again say, “easy Pet” and she would respond by slowing to a snail’s pace down the steep
bank.
Pet would wade out about belly depth into the water where she would drink her fill of the cool
clear water. And I would use her back as a diving board launch and swim to my heart’s delight.
After she was through drinking I would climb on her back again and give her head to her and
she would trot to the barn where she knew I would give her treats, such as carrots, apples,
sugar cubes and so on.
I remember I never did have the heart to make her run full speed as
I supposed that her blindness was burden enough in her life for her to bear.
It is said of truth that one gets to keep in heaven those things of this life that were loved sufficiently.
I know that my beloved Pet shall be my precious playmate again in the heavenly ethereal of the Spirit.
Pet lives on even now in the depths of my childhood memories. Her loving low neighs as she
approached me by smell, and her nuzzles into my pocket for the sugar cubes she knew would
always be there for her. In heaven I shall see my Pet again, and this time she will see me,
maybe for the first time.
For and in honor of Carol Brown
and Contest.
Nanny’s come a-visiting,
We’re playing in the lounge.
Lottie’s on her kiddie car,
Scooting all around
Lost within her tiny world –
Doesn’t know I’m there –
Moving all her little toys
To table from the chair.
Reach for toy, put in car,
Climb on car and then
Scoot, scoot, get off car,
Pick up toy again.
Turn around, step, step!
Put it on the table …
She doesn’t know she’s walking yet!
We didn’t think her able!
Step, step, back on car.
Scoots to chair and then
Mum comes in, Nan murmers, “watch …”
And off we go again.
Scoot, scoot, get off car,
Pick up little cow.
Step! Step! Put it down …
Mummy grins, “Oh, WOW!”
For my daughter Verity, and her daughter, Charlotte.
Take my hand, holding on tight.
Why fear when I am there?
Through blistering summer
and blizzards of winter,
feel my handclasp, don’t loosen your grip.
Scale the heights along with me....
Don’t look back, climb on and on!
July.29.2022
Short Verse Inspired by Pictures Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Lisa YY
No. of Words - 39
With dreams the west created factory's,
with dreams they invented car's,
with dreams they build space ships,
and travelled out past mar's,
with dreams the factory's build job's,
with dreams the jobs built careers,
with dreams the people built house's,
they didn't ask for you to help,
they built there live's themselve's,
you can build your life,
you can build your dream,
you can build your banks,
you can build your factory's,
you can build your shop's,
create the dream, create the drive,
learn to think and then to fly,
Why shoud you expect a hand out,
why should you expect a hand up,
in truth we have two feet and legs,
to walk upon ourselves,
We have a mind that also dreams,
a mind to build, our thoughts and schemes,
we can save and work together,
we can grasp at straws unseen,
we can live and grow together,
building dreams and goals undreamed,
we can climb on glory's mountain,
taste wealth in future streams.
the poor becoming wealthy,
on the backs of summer love,
we can build the cars and kingdom's,
live at peace beneath the stars.
Your sun may be clouded
My sun may be bright
But I know that we see
The same moon tonight
I climb on the roof
And I gaze at the stars
Hoping you can also see
Planet Mars
No matter the distance
Near or apart
Just know that you will
Always be in my heart
Footprints cross snow covered grass
Our cat will creep and drop its ****.
From which a giant turd descends
6 inches long before it bends.
Scratch, scratch to cover up
Nowhere near this pile of crap
Sniff, sniff wander round
Walk away this smelly mound
Cats they are a unique breed
Warm and cosy what they need.
Curled up in a special place
Snoring softly in their space.
Night time sitting, look on guard
Watching others in the yard.
Meow, meow, meow they scream
Wake us up from pleasant dream.
Climb on bed in early morn
Push and shove to make us yawn.
Feed me, feed me, give me food
Feed me now I’m in the mood
Stomach full and washing done
Lift up leg, start licking bum
Then curl up in their favourite chair
Lay down and sleep without a care.
They plod and pose and look serene
With love and comfort rarely seen.
For all their faults they make amends
And in return they are our friends.
"Nature is a joy in spring with fresh life and a wonder than at other seasons. The myriad animate and inanimate forms living in nature surprise and delight us. The sight of little creatures taking care of their offspring raises our curiosity and heightens our admiration to the point of emulating them"~ By Poet
The silent snowy winter days are gone.
Lively spring has come again.
The cool wind brushes past my face
Animals from their hide, come out in chain.
A mother hen with her happy brood
Of newly hatched chicks like balls of wool
Is out of her coop for an outdoor hunt,
To feed on termites under dry leaves, cool
The chicks in self-abandon run and play.
Some chase tiny bugs leaping from the grass.
Some climb on their mother’s sloppy back.
They enjoy the bright day’s cheer en masse.
On the other side, bunnies leap and hop,
In the hazy mist of the early morning light.
They nibble at fresh grass in the meadow.
Their sprightliness soaks my heart in delight.
.
My heartstrings are stretched out tight,
As pigeons coo and robins sing,
Adding a symphonic rhythm to the air,
By the avian ensemble of spring
I hear the whisper of fresh-grown leaves,
Interrupted by the sweet strains of a meadowlark.
On this lovely day, an urge to roam the countryside,
Is ignited deep in my heart as a blazing spark.
I
feel
today
will be
my last
a feeling
of panic
now vanished
now has passed
A sense of knowing fills my heart
Today a whole new life will start
To greet me will be Mum and Dad
Grandpa and Grandma too
The first in line to take my hand
And there to lead me through
My son ~ my only child ~ my boy
Will stand there next to you
My darling husband
My soulmate
My friend
I know
My love
It’s you
Tonight is when
my journey ends
The end of my poetry too
No more poems will I write
My final one I wrote tonight
And as the day turns into night
I climb on board my final flight
And as I fly into the sky
My Space Ship and I
Will explode!
Will ignite!
Like the
brightest rocket
On
Guy Fawkes Night
********
*****
****
***
*
What a way to go
What a fabulous show
A number one poem
Guess I’ll never know
SO
***On this Starry***Starry night***
Farewell
&
Goodnight
**
*
*
*
Written 15th July 2020
FIRST PLACE
Contest ‘If This Was My Last Poetry Contest Poem’
Sponsor Silent One
Contest COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE 20
Sponsor Brian Strand
N/A
Rain beats against the window,
As my little boy leans his brow
And little hands against the cool glass,
Staring, longing to go out.
His eyes light up with joyous excitement;
Grinning from ear to ear,
For down the hall by the door
He sees his sister's red and white polka-dot umbrella.
Glimpsing around to make sure no one is looking,
With quick steps across the floor he goes to the door.
He rises on his tiptoes,
Reaching and wrapping his little fingers
Around the doorknob.
Slowly opening the door ajar,
He seizes his sister's umbrella.
Pushing the button he pops it open
And slips away unnoticed.
The pitter-patter of rain strikes the umbrella
He holds high above his head,
As he runs across the yard
To the old wooden bench in the pouring rain.
Jumping he grabs a wooden slat
And struggles to climb on the wet slippery bench,
Springing high his little feet finally makes it up.
Bouncing up and down,
Screeching with enthusiasm giggles
watching the colorful rainbow,
Soaking wet,
He holds on to the back of the bench.
6/19/2020
It was not a tragedy at first.
It was the smell of oceans,
It was the breeze on mountains,
It was the spring,
It was the autumn,
It was love.
Soon it was raining.
There was the roar of thunder.
The sky shone a mix of purple, red and orange.
It felt like cries from heaven were pouring down heavy on parched soil.
Yet I asked...
“Can I stay here? Please…”
I would not make a lot of noise.
I would not drown in the sorrow within longing.
I would not climb on the clouds of fear.
I would not walk on the road going towards castles.
I would be alive.
And so, like droplets collected on a leaf
In a wintry morning
I live...