Best Collectible Poems


Softly Spoken Magic Spell

Amorphous face fold
Half a diamond bowl
Spoon of flight
Peace for thought

Collectible platforms
Metaphase approach
Fractioned subjective slides
Schizophrenic mathematical
Blanks

Polyphonic bubble meal
Psychedelic breakfast blue
Like orbital vertex cubes
Cotton-stone vocal quake
Delighted taste

[Yummy yummy…]


NOTE: I highly recomend this poem to be read outloud with an excelent (and even excesive)
articulation of every sound. Enjoy =)
Categories: collectible, confusion
Form:

Premium Member Treasured Jewelry

I have her nineteen fifties' Trifari
     fine costume jewelry, which I hold dear,
since my sweet mom bequeathed it all to me;
     when worn or touched, I feel her presence near.

The ritzy, sparkling rhinestone matching sets
     showcased in satin-lined, faux leather case,
were treasured as high fashion; no regrets
     when given as a gift of style and grace.

And too, are pearls embedded in bright gold
     with settings of such intricate design.
I love to look at them, to fondle, hold
     these precious pieces treasured now as mine.

I  wear my mother's gems from time to time 
     and feel her basking in the lovely glow
that once adorned her beauty in its prime
     and graced her loveliness in stylish show.

So I devotedly take tender care 
     of these Trifari gifts passed on to me;
her treasures shine with special love we share,
     safeguarded through her cherished jewelry.


Sandra M. Haight

~1st Place~
Contest: Old Jewelry or Just Old Things
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Judged: 11/06/2016

Since the1920s, Trifari has been one of the most respected and admired producers of costume jewelry in the United States. Founded in the1910s by Gustavo Trifari, the Italian-immigrant son of a Napoli goldsmith, the company has designed jewelry that’s been worn by countless high-profile clients, from Mamie Eisenhower to Madonna. Trifari costume jewelry is highly collectible today.
Categories: collectible, mother daughter, tribute,
Form: Iambic Pentameter

The Bachelors Way

The bachelor sits alone
eating his microwaved dinner
the commercials say they're tasty
but he begs to differ.
tonight, its pot roast and beans
for dessert, a lousy brownie
honestly, I wouldn't serve this to the jailbirds
locked up at county.
They're cheap and easy to fix 
or so they say
comes complete with a sheet of plastic 
encased in a collectible tin tray
the advertising is clever
using words like low fat and carb free
but can someone please explain
what is a vegetable medley?

The bachelor unhappy with the evening's cuisine
grabs a book and takes a pill
it's for insomnia
not the kind to give you a thrill
shortly, the words are running together
the pill is doing its job
in a few more years
its teeth in a glass
and no more corn on the cob

The bachelor accepts
that he's challenged in cooking
and frozen nutrition will have to suffice
but what he can't understand
is why it takes him a half an hour
to cook a bag of minute rice.
© Kurt Kohls  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: collectible,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


The Building of a Moment

narrative

Precious novelties, rare and unimpaired
reminder of events I'd love to share.
Recalling special trinkets in a hutch
for display only, labeled "Do Not Touch".

Awaiting finding of a misplaced key,
a new piece tempted curiosity.
Too precious to ignore, my small grandson
maneuvered carefully, warned by his mum.

Rejecting caution, which kids oft ignore
forgetful child just left it on the floor.
The next day, sister found it with her foot.
One piece, now three pieces, ruined, kaput.

Comes precious moment, happ'ning on my watch.
The brother faults his sister for the botch
who then returns accusatory blame.
Routine occurrence, 'companied by shame.
 
The moment builds, we search the house for glue.
Some chips still gone?  Hurrah! we find a few.
Together, we three, talking as we work,
accountable, not acting like a jerk.

A precious moment in our history 
when that collectible met surgery.
Four years later, standing tall, gath'ring dust
a priceless symbol, joint endeavor, plus.

written Jan. 2, 2013, revised June 29, 2017
Categories: collectible, brother, grandmother, hope, sister,
Form: Narrative

Just a Something'D - Nothing'D...

The...the
the indescribable
kicking of 
one's plausible pulse
is usually described as
swallowed
infant-swallowed -
a swallowed collectible
a practicled'd 
particle of
something. Yes or no...!
Know - I know 
a nothing is
it's...it is...
something'd 
allowed and advertised.
Stut...stutt...stuttering
move 
my 
emotions 
forward 
and - yes. No! 

When...

i feel my hands shake.
I shake. I -
I can't write. 
No! I know...
Yes, the indescribable -
it kicks in sometimes.

Once again,
I turn my head
from a nothing'd, 
anything'd;
a something'd
something...
when I've
exhaled. 
I exhale. No -
levilor slats 
never
silhouette 
a moonbeam.
Never!

I feel the pulse again.
I feel. 
I know - NO!
I can't swallow.
I...

Miss Alice softly steps
upon my chest -
Mr. Carroll forgives
her fancied foot work.
Mona Lisa and her
queenly mad hatters
choreograph the finale.
It segues past the nothing'd
nothing of 
no ones nothingness...
the melody 
merely dances -
it dances -
it enhances - possibly,
beyond the something'd
something...
SOMETHING! -
when I..when I...
inhale.  
GOD! -
Only when, 
I inhale. 
Maybe...

Gershwin's rhapsody
paints a 
color-blinded 
scalawag's eyes blue
and then -
everyone. No...
rather 
everyone's...
understands.
Turning their heads
from a nothing'd
something'd -
a silent song 
sings true. 
Always...
always.

I've exhaled -
inhaled. At times...
and...and...
Only when...
only when.
No...no...no...
I think of nothing -
just nothing'd...
maybe... 
I realize I'm
something'd 
short
of a 
no one'd -
collecting crumbs 
from a beggar's 
pocket. Never
never ever...
dining at the
simpleton's
something'd 
round table.
© John Heck  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: collectible, on writing and words
Form: Free verse

Never Lose Yer ***** Kid

a one against all iconoclast
eat my shorts was his hello
after being driven from the village
by the Iceberg Clan physical therapists
and their dictatorship of deduction
a mere fascination with the grotesque
boasting an indignant moral high ground
their vast distortions parading as what's next
none of which was actually observant
ordered the award of a certificate of exile
prompting futile biographical excess
told his life story in a whisper
to the audience on the bus stop bench
in the fabled Flat Lands of Disturbia
trying to be more than what he thought he was
had the soul of a humming bird
chose his objects of adoration wisely
dodging recruiter demons at all hours
kick starting a thousand slave rebellions
you instigate one you instigate them all
inching up to the black widow at web central
twitching the cables just enough
with the help of his archangel air cover
shielding his free will for eternity











just enough for the look-o-meter
to get him through the mine fields
driving a '49 Mercury like he stole it
it is theater pure and simple
a Fellini runway extravaganza
playing evil A against evil B
resist and defy were his left and right
victory payouts collectible at Ed the Bookie's
a Ponzi scheme of titanic proportion
cosmic efficiencies being what they are
where the hierarchies choke hold your neck
zigging and zagging like sparring ghosts
a house of cards inside a hall of mirrors
forcing themselves not to look
since when have the observant sages
ever managed to end our misery
made it gnashingly worse more likely
If the amputation scars are any indication
this is a bad review no stars
in case you were wondering
a lot of that's not right out there
but only because context is everything 
a blind eye is a blind eye
thoughts are surfaces
Categories: collectible, how i feel,
Form: Free verse


Who the R Evolution

As from the plaintiffs
their voices rise
come speak with us
come converse
with words of love

Here we raise no battle cry
no hymn or anthem
but with gentle heart
and loving mind
raise this protest

Too long we cling
with this skin of nostalgia
those so called better times
and in their dust and fire
we hereby proclaim them
fake

The disregarded children
have grown fatherless
mournful mothers have raised us
we have paid in consequence
for the dying of their hearts

The great depression
economic recession
its balance of payments
the distopian humdrum state 
of human underconsumption
the collectible buy-products of austerity
hyperinflated stagflation
these economic credit embezzlement's  
measure this war-machines policy

And we
by tragedy
have come to accept
have listened to the bleating excuses
of terrorism's politics
have poured this blood
these lives
upon dementia's hate

We
such a quiet voice it was
which rose new hope aloft
to turn from aggression
to speak in kinder themes
and in love
become more human
  
Here we raise no battle cry
no hymn or anthem
but with gentle heart
and loving mind
raise this protest

Will any of them listen
Categories: collectible, children, community, love,
Form: Free verse

Deface the War On Drugs

What pharmaceutical hypocrisy
Blurred doctor patient relations
Continuous with dealor-junkie satiation 
Arent't we living to eat?

The safety regulators will come down harsh
Trickling down their axiom motif
With Ronald Reagan collectible trading cards

Who's poison beef still feeds
The vacant lunch room lot
And appetite feeds necessity
A supply/demand immortal praxis

So when economists don their hats
Rationally sanitizing the goofs
It's mighty easy the Federally pen
A Riker's Island estate
Keeping the wooly horses busy

While generations pock-marked
Throw themselves towards the dart board
Becoming gangland officiates

What we need is a cleansing rain
To wash the virtual records and shame
Letting ecology grow the way it should
Categories: collectible, business, fear, drug,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Antiques Roadshow

collectible things
tweaks our brains
and pleasure it brings
its odd but still
the antiquing bug
got me to a thrill
© Cs Parker  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: collectible, adventure, appreciation, surreal,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member treasure

fine collectibles
	nature’s munificent gifts ~
		infinite treasure
Categories: collectible, appreciation, life, nature, tribute,
Form: Haiku

Reverend Joseph Popoff

Copyright 2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Poetic Lyrics By Thomas Lam Hsi


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!



Chasing...silver dreams...on wings of...GOLDEN THINGS!

DIAMONDS AND THINGS...I love this life...OH...HOW NICE!

Streets...SO GRITTY...SO TRUE...and now...SILVER THINGS!

SPARKLES AND GOLD...ruby TRUE...emerald DREAMS...IT SEEMS!


GIFTINGS...and THINGS...RUBIED-FINGERS...and CREAMY ZINGERS!

The harsh city lights...AT MID-NIGHT...WER-WOLVES...and JACKELS!

LIGHTS AND CAMERAS...powdered FACES...well-worn-zingers...AND THINGS!

Chasing...silver dreams...on wings of...GOLDEN  THINGS!


THE NICE LIFE...THE NICE LIFE...THE GREATEST LIVES...AND THINGS!

How you spend...ETERNITY...IN  GOLD DUBLOONS...AND LOONS!

THE NICE LIFE...THE NICE LIFE...THE GREATEST LIVES...AND THINGS!

AND THINGS...AND THINGS...collectible arts...AND LUSCIOUS TARTS!

AND THINGS...AND THINGS...COLLECTIBLE ARTS...AND...LUSCIOUS TARTS!


Write YOUR OWN TICKET...DIAMOND DREAMS...AND CRYSTAL'S 'THINGS!'

YES...YES...AND CRYSTAL'S...VERY...OWN...'THINGS!'

OH...those DIAMOND DREAMS...IT SEEMS...ON SILVER WINGS...AND GOBLETS!

EARS TO LISTEN...AND CRYSTAL'S 'THINGS'...YES...YES...ALWAYS...YES!


A Reverend's Dreams...it seems...can never be bold...BOLD ENOUGH!

A Reverend's Dreams...it seems...can never be bold...BOLD ENOUGH!
© Thomas Hsi  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: collectible, absence, abuse, addiction, adventure,
Form: Ballad

Premium Member Hope's Illusion

Romantic dreams are filled with joy,
but that is not always the case.
For sometimes you're somebody's toy;
a collectible, pretty face.

Fueled by dreams and delusion;
vows lack any sincerity.
And embracing hope's illusion,
You let lies fog your clarity.

When half of a duality,
love should not come into question.
But viewed in their totality,
his lies look like an obsession.

Ask yourself why love's on trial;
if you believe you have found bliss.
And stop living in denial;
Happiness is more than a kiss.

Doubt weighs heavy upon your mind,
so you need to unmask its cause.
And though you're scared of what you'll find,
confront it and put trust on pause.
Categories: collectible, anxiety, break up, depression,
Form: Quatrain

Cruel To

Every fascination becomes a bauble
a gold encrusted noose
on which to dangle
the desperation of appeal

Stuffed into feathers fashioned
cushions fighting for the adverts
these sown together facsimiles 
is the me in expressive tailor-made

And your life a piece of art work    
each symbols collectible remark  
paints the mask
of who you never really are
In the mirror dissatisfaction
daily judgment of perfection
you wear it like a scar
never a smile for who you really are

If you were and only could be
more faultless than you really should be
a photo posed abstracts anatomy of beauty
the accommodation of magazine publicity 

Every fascination becomes a bauble
a gold encrusted noose
on which to dangle
the desperations to appeal
a presentation of nothing that is real
such are the cruel theaters of the skin
betraying a soul wishing not to be constrained within
Categories: collectible, beauty,
Form: Free verse

Yatra Or the Art of Distraction

before you forgot me
I forgot you
stopping for 'STOP LOSS'
on this stage to stand alone

persistent anonymous
we're almost there
- ground zero -
never out of position when so often
there isn't one

we imagined we were at John 'n Yoko's Montreal
BED-IN ~ "giving peace a chance"
you could live your whole life lost like that
IN-BED

we sought beaches, white water
'n hummingbirds galore
a cerulean blue morpho at the butterfly gardens
of Costa Rica

adventure therapy from sea to bed: a slippery
place where the faithful prey for abundance 'n grace
in the shadow of depression

the race to the finish-line was often
an obstacle course: collectible 'n historical
forever blue, remembering I'd forgotten you

but found you a hundred, a thousand times
beyond the ability to remember or express
my love
Categories: collectible, love
Form: Imagism

Precious Moments

PRECIOUS MOMENTS

Yesterday was Saturday
My two princesses 
Giggling, jumping, prancing, hopped in my car
We were planning to go one direction, but
Along the way, in front of a church
We were distracted.  We decided to stop!

Little hands clasped with mine
Carefully crossed the streets
Curiously combed what the garage sale has to offer!
Wow!  15cents for a treasured moments photo album
Five dollars each  for Precious Moments collectible
Porcelain dolls!

I lovingly watched my two princesses
Picked up, embraced , kissed the precious moments dolls
That precious smile imprinted in my heart
As I say:  Take everything you want!

After our errands
We headed home
In the corner of my eyes, silently observed them
They took out an old precious moments doll from the cabinet.

They then took their green color sarong
A souvenir from our Hawaii trip last year
They then wrapped themselves with these flowery clothing, 
Played house on the sofa.

Precious Moments!
They were pretending the dolls are sisters.
Suddenly, a crashed.  One doll fell from the sofa to the floor!
A silence.

One of my princesses said,
Oh the arm is broken.  Only the arm!
She is still OK.
Pretends she is on cast
Her hand will heal.  Another precious moments!

Those were  precious moments treasured in my heart till I’m due to heaven!
Categories: collectible, family,
Form: Narrative
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