Best Commented Poems
She found herself
In the shards of who I am
The broken bits
The shadows
The resurrection of yesterday's pauses
I wonder
Was it the happy bits
The quiet contemplations
Or does she exist
Within the doubts
The abbreviated sentences
The opinions of her own imposters
Those who choose to see her with veiled perceptions
Is she who she wants to be
Or is she in a state of becoming
I try to see past my own limitations
I wade through my wheres
Trying to see where
Where she has been
Where is she now
Why
Yes I wonder why
Why does she identify with me
I am left to ponder
Contemplate
Who is this woman
With sad happy eyes
Strong in a broken sorta way
Who visits me
On glowing paper
Graces me with kindness
Chooses to ponder herself
Within my spaces
I will seek her out
For she too
Reveals
Her notes
Sings her spirit
On pure white
Glowing
Paper
Dedicated to Charmaine after she commented on my "I Am" poem.
Categories:
commented, appreciation, emotions, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
I see you coming, old age
Approaching, at an ever-accelerating pace,
Your face is so grim
Your expression is so austere
Your look so menacing,
A frightening sight you are
Many battles I have fought in life
With vigor and youth at my side
Thus victorious I emerged
But
Now that my allies slowly abandon me
One after the other,
I am left alone in the last battle to fight
A battle, I know beforehand I am bound
To lose
However
At this moment as trials begin
When all seem to get tougher by the day
A new ally I have found, willing to help me,
All my courage to amass to confront you,
Oh, merciless old age:
The wisdom I have acquired all these years
Roaming the planes of experience and
Learning!*
© Demetrios Trifiatis
18 June 2017
* This poem was honored as POTW on the 25th of June 2017. I thank everyone who has appreciated it as everyone who visit me and commented for without their love nothing would have been possible. THANK YOU, PS!
Categories:
commented, age, life, wisdom,
Form:
Personification
Look as far and as wide as you can, my friend,
Turn your eyes towards the sky and try to pierce infinity-
This vast unknown-
Ponder about its existence
Let not a single thing unexamined
Any stunning flower untouched
Any majestic bird unobserved
Any magnificent fish unnoticed
And tell me
Isn't life a miracle?
An unbelievable story?
An inconceivable design?
Yet
A mesmerizing reality?
Look how heaven and earth are put together:
A harmonious whole operating with such precision and
With a single purpose in mind- LIFE!
Tell me, could this great design be the outcome of chance?
Of a hazardous consequence?
Or
The work of blind forces?
Look closer my friend, once again,
Pay attention to the details of this incredible miracle of life
Look how things are so wisely operating
Observe the relationship between a flower and a bee
How they are interrelated,
Interconnected and
Interdependent
Marvel how, although they both are so transient,
They maintain eternity
Note the way they obey the cosmic laws
Thus
Enacting the choreography of life and death that divinity has conceived
And by doing so they become divine themselves and their art holy
Let us, my friend,
Be inspired by them and let us create our own
Harmonious coexistence
Our own choreography, inspired by God,
For
To incarnate His will in reality
So as to glorify His creation
And us to live in peace as He meant us to live!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
06 August 2019
* This is my 2400th poem.
Thank all those who have commented on my poems since 2012! I also thank PoetrySoup because they have helped my poems become known thus they were published in books and anthologies. Soon, I think to stop posting. God bless you all my friends.
Categories:
commented, flower, god, men, universe,
Form:
Free verse
The other day, I was visiting the home page at Poetry Soup
and noticed a picture of a guy named Willie Shakespeare
His poems are okay but I found his plays a bit hard to follow
For example: “To be or not to not to be: That is the question”
Really Billy? I mean you either IS or you AIN’T right?
SO, I commented on some of his poems just to encourage him
and guess what? Not ONE-SINGLE-COMMENT in return!
I even tried Soup Mail offering kind, polite advice and critique
No dice! Zilch! Zero! Perhaps it was the style tips I suggested?
That collar's gotta go...Can you IMAGINE in the midst of summer?
I am now convinced that ego and resentment were involved
So I decided to try Eddie Poe and honestly? His stuff is WEIRD
and Ed, I hate to break this to you but: Ravens don't talk
Did the same with Bobby Frost, Benny Johnson and some others
Same old song and waltz, not a peep out of a single ONE of them
To top it off, I Souped Emmy Dickinson (I wanted to ask her out)
I suggested that she might want to edit the first line of her poem from:
“I dreaded that first robin so" to:
“I dreaded that first robin like you wouldn’t BELIEVE”
Her silence was deafening.
Just who do these people think the ARE?
Light bulb! Now I know why PS crams them all together on the right hand end.
They feel sorry for these poet wanna-be’s, but not ME. I will continue to mentor
Categories:
commented, poets, tribute,
Form:
Light Verse
In the darkness of the night,
with the beautiful stars above.
There's a lonesome Whippoorwill.
Calling out for his Dear love.
Crooning songs he sadly sings.
Wishing she comes back to him.
Memories of her by his side.
Pained his heart way deep inside.
Each night he wonders why?
She doesn't answer or replies!
Minutes turned into hours,
there's no response!
"Oh please Dear Love answer
me, just once!"
"Oh, where my Darling are you
tonight? I've been searching for
you day and night!"
His little heart can't take much
more! It is she who he adores.
Evenings drag on as he still
waits. Time will tell his coming
fate.
He called out one last time.
His last thoughts were of her,
on his mind.
While he looked for her. He did
not know. His precious love,
another Whippoorwill stole. His
precious love, another Whippoorwill
stole.
Sadly on that tragic day, from a
broken heart he passed away..
From a broken heart he passed
away.
There's a little nest that is tucked
away. Where his heartache ended,
and now he lays.
Later on his love returned. Saw
him laying still, and began to mourn!
Her cries were heard throughout
the night and in her grieving heart
he now resides.
Each day and night she sang to him,
and hoped to God, He was listening.
In the darkness of the night, she
breathed out one last sigh, and
forever closed her eyes.
She found herself on Angels wings,
and heard calls for her, singing.
She quickly flew to him in Love, to
start their new beginning.
If you listen closely and the night is still.
Up in the Heavens you can still hear,
the loving calls, of two Whippoorwills.
Maria Williams and Husband Ron
will put these Lyrics to a Music
Video. I will ask her to Post it on
Maria's Poetry Soup site where
all her videos are. She is and Ron
the one's who turn Lyrics into
Magical musical amazing
creations. You can see her new
video on her Site or on YouTubes
Poetic Rythms. Her latest Video
Serenity, From Fall to Freedom,
is an exceptional video I think
you would all enjoy. I want to
thank all my lovely friends
that commented, you are all
Special and you make this world
a better place. God bless you all...
Categories:
commented, betrayal, emotions, loneliness, longing,
Form:
Rhyme
Poets
Why is it poetry, is a like dirty word and talked of in undertones?
It’s like a naughty postcard, more flesh than there are bones.
Poets tend to deny their art, “I’m not a poet, I’m a rhym-er”
Come on you lot get stuck in don’t be a poetry two-timer.
After a glass of alcohol some may admit-“I like a little verse”
“But no I m not into poetry…” It’s like a speech they did rehearse.
Now poems I’m getting good at, but famous poets I don’t know any
Don’t ask me if I’m a poet, because in wages I don’t earn a penny.
Now rhyme I am not bad at, but at free verse I would stink
As for haiku, senryu, and other forms, I stink I really think…
I listened to some so called poets; decry their art the other day
They denied their art while they listened, to what each other had to say.
Standing there with their poems held high, “I’m not a poet” they all said
Well get down from the microphone and let’s hear a poet instead…
They pass their poems around the table, like some black market currency
Not wanting anyone to see it, but they are at a reading for poetry.
So be loud and proud you poets stand firm for what you believe in
Tell them you are a poet, and just get used to all the teasing
I used to be a shy poet and I write verse with some frivolity
But the definition in my dictionary says “words with a pleasing quality.”
So now I am open to judgement from all of you wonderful poets
You have all commented on my work, but do you really know it?
You all have qualities that scare me, you really seem so clever
So can I finally admit to being a poet, from now on and forever?
~GG~ 27/09/2012
Categories:
commented, confusion, funny, art, art,
Form:
Quatrain
Spring is...winter's dream to become... summer.
© Demetrios Trifiatis
23 March 2023
* As always on such an occasion, I would like to share the honor of POTW with all of you, my dear friends who have visited and commented on my poem. I also thank the officials of PoetrySoup for the honor bestowed. Be blessed.
Categories:
commented, dream, spring, summer,
Form:
Monoku
Whoever succeeds in adopting a positive attitude towards old age,
The passing of years, would not appear an earthly burden on him,
But, heavenly bliss.
-
-
© Demetrios Trifiatis
15 September 2024
-
* As always, I share the honor of P.O.T.D., with all my friends. I thank each one of you who has commented on my poem, as well as the officials who bestowed the honor upon my writing. Blessings.
Categories:
commented, age, earth, heaven,
Form:
Free verse
False Followers List
Why do poets have us on their
main list of followers
Yet...to be blunt here...
Never comment on our poems?
If you are doing this~ it's silly.
Worse! Those who commented
for months and stopped~
How hurtful can you be, feigning
loving humanity?
Let me go.
And all others that you do not read.
That's just being kind.
Be loving to your poet-kind.
Stop being a fake follower.
I beg you. Thank you.
It won't take long to drop my name!
Keeping my name there...totally lame!
Panagiota
December 18, 2019
Categories:
commented, how i feel, poets,
Form:
Rhyme
My life has been fairly stable. Rarely does an event “change my life” in any significant way. Marriage, children, one’s job. Of course, these alter one’s life course, but when I think of a life-changing moment uniquely mine ,only one comes readily to my mind, and it has greatly affected these past 13 years of my life.
Since my early school days, I’d enjoyed the magic of words, devouring books and feeling pride in some stories written for my creative writing class. After marriage, I occasionally wrote Christmas song parodies, but it was not until the new millennium that my life took a dramatic turn. I came out of the writing “closet” and showed my few poems online!
If I had to name the one most pivotal moment in this new era for me, it would be the day I commented to a fellow poetess how I wished I were as prolific as she. I’d see her every day posting poems while I had barely a handful to show for myself. To paraphrase, this is what she told me: My friend, you must make yourself write. If you run out of ideas, just find a contest or some kind of inspiration in a phrase, topic, or picture. Sit yourself down and start writing! You can do it!
Well, I did just that! I joined clubs and workshops, subscribed to magazines and acquainted myself with people who motivated me to create. Thirteen years later, here I am, writing at least two to three times a week. My life has been enriched by friendships formed through poetry and by a feeling of satisfaction that I am growing as a writer so that today I can confidently proclaim: Like those poets once my mentors, I too can be prolific!
299 words/ For Heather Ober's Moment of Truth (PROSE or NARRATIVE)Contest
Categories:
commented, writing,
Form:
Prose
WRINKLES*
Wrinkles:
Wondrous memorials
Masterfully engraved
By
Graceful Age
For
Commemorating the victories of self
Over
The afflictions of life!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
15 NOVEMBER 2013
*Having read Andrea’s Dietrich: The Wrinkles Justifier, I commented that
I might be inspired to write on Wrinkles. I kept my word! Thank you Andrea!
*Dedicated to all my fellow aging, young friends!
Categories:
commented, age, courage, life, ,
Form:
Epigram
("" In order for the light to shine so brightly,
the darkness must be present"" -Francis Bacon)
Crossing That Siberian Desert Of Lost Souls
No joy, no peace, on that darken horrendous stroll
crossing that Siberian desert of lost souls
blazing sun hit by invisible arrows shot
wherein the weak die, left as carrion to rot
so many blinded by illusions that world sends
eyes shut, never seeing what world's ill wind portends!
Mankind swims in a world that its hopes slowly burns.
Rolling the dice as Fate and Death take wicked turns.
Once as a youth such an innocent soul was I
racing forward deluded thinking I could fly
until in too deep, heart cried out from burning heat
and the ill wind's angry flames licking my bare feet
Please a refuge, I pray Lord a refuge please send
Oasis, that this wilting body I may mend!
Mankind swims in a world that its hopes slowly burns.
Rolling the dice as Fate and Death take wicked turns.
As sky then chased away that fiery red-hot sun
ahead an oasis, quickly onward I run
away from lost and blinded journey through this hell
away from lingering doubts I could never quell
away from this world and its insidious pains
away from deep darkness and its decaying stains!
This soul left that black-world wherein hope slowly burns.
No dice, Fate and Death taking no more wicked turns.
Robert J. Lindley, 12 -21- 21
Rhyme, ( Truth That Darkness May Not Prevail )
Notes:
(1.) Inspiration and thanks given, for this poem was received from a comment made to my poem , titled, "I Looked To Heaven That Christmas Night"
Commented on 12/20/2021 5:43:00 PM by Jeannie Amos
("Not everyone makes it out of the Siberian desert of lost souls. Make the best of your blessing."
Thusly - I got this to stir my composing. - ** "" Siberian desert of lost souls. ""**
*******
(2.) Inspiring quotes from famous,
artists/thinkers/ philosophers/poets
(A.)
“Hope is being able to see there is light despite all of the darkness.”
-- Desmond Tutu
(B.)
“Differences are not intended to separate, to alienate. We are different precisely in order to realize our need of one another.”
-- Desmond Tutu
(C.)
"Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word happy would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness."
-- Carl Jung.
Categories:
commented, appreciation, creation, dark, death,
Form:
Rhyme
A warm smile of hello in the sanctuary of poets
The name is Arden G.; here to express not to impress
If I coud do an eye-contact and a firm handshake in the virtual land of PoetrySoup
Would be a dream come true to meet great poets called, "Souper".
If I could move heaven and earth; I'd love to meet Linda or PoetDestroyer, SKAT and Julie Rasley
The first few who commented on my featured poem, "LOVE" and welcomed me as a family
Anne Lise Andresen who always drop by and Sheri Harper that ranked my first poem entry, "A Shot of HIV"
I'll tell them a simple, "THANKS" and encouragement of "MORE POWER".
For no words could capture the emotions of knowing wonderful artists in this world.
Of course I'd like to meet and learn something 'bout Yasmin Khan
Who advocates to bind each poets; pure intentions to make us one
I'll tap her shoulder and tell her, "IT'S A JOB WELL DONE".
Now everybody's sharing their depths and self one by one.
Is there a way to meet the founder of Poetrysoup?
To tell HIM, "BRAVISSIMO" and my new "SOUPER-FRIEND" too.
Arden Gopela
Categories:
commented, celebration, dream, friendship, happiness,
Form:
Free verse
I was an odd little girl. At a very early age writing, and seeking out nature. I
loved to wander libraries and art galleries, while other little girls played with
dolls together. A loner, lost within my thoughts. I grew up to be a bit eccentric
and offbeat. My style of dressing is whimsical and unique to me. I love
seeking out vintage. The key is to not wear too much at one time! My pose
and mannerisms are quiet and gentle, people have commented on how calm
I seem. I found my Zen a long time ago. I do yoga and meditate each day.
Something about me is my need to know what is going on in the world.
I watch the local news, the Canadian news (yes, I am from Canada), varied US
news, and the World news each morning. Only then can my day begin! It is an
oddity I think as so many do not listen or read about the news. I like to read
books but not on a Kindle or on the computer I want, must actually hold a
book, I love the feel of the pages in my hands. I collect old books, well old and
fragile anything. A beautiful vase or plate with a chip perhaps found in second
hand shops. I do not need an expensive antique to satisfy my need for "old".
Well, that's the oddity of me, a whimsical, unique and a bit offbeat girl.
the forest quiet
the sound of soft snow falling-
I stop listening
_____________________
February 7, 2018
Poetry/Haibun/This Quirky Girl
Copyright Protected, ID 18-991-422-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Quirks
sponsor, Madison Demetros
Second Place
Categories:
commented, introspection,
Form:
Haibun
My sister got married in white
Gran commented, “That isn’t right -
You are no virgin bride
That’s YOUR son by your side
You should have kept your legs shut tight!”
Categories:
commented, irony, wedding,
Form:
Limerick