Best Community Poems
~Poetesses and Poets, Divine~
All over this great planet we live,
Penning our thoughts, and love to give!
With our hearts, as lanterns so bright,
Writing with hearts into this summer night.
Pen thee, then, of nature’s fine beauty.
Quietly, we are world Muses on duty.
Creations we form of happiness and sorrow.
Moonlight and dreams, on which to borrow!
A hug from me, now..close your eyes.
Tomorrow is both a gift and a surprise!
Hugs,
Panagiota Romios
California….USA
8/15/2022
~1~
open a blind eye ~ and see you're being duped by those using AI
sniff out those taking credit for cheating ~ real poets they're defeating
a concept I can't accept ~ from people whose poetry is inept
sometimes it's really difficult to prove ~ but an issue to behoove
call them out if it matters ~ don't serve them trophies on silver platters
if you couldn't care less ~ it's no wonder poetry soup is a mess
disheartening to say the least ~ is it possible to slay the beast
it's happening, there's no doubt ~ they're being given far too much clout
this message may be falling on deaf ears ~ if so, then I give up... cheers!
Don't bother me with conformity
don't bother me today-
with things I should (or shouldn't) do
or what I shouldn't say!
Don't bother me with conformity
my house is not “obscene”...
Orange, purple, and lavender
look lovely with lime green!
Don't bother me with conformity
I'm much too happy, carefree
to wonder why the neighbors all
keep staring so at me!
Maybe they're jealous of my tail
I really don't give a hoot!
Surely they have seen before
grown-ups in zebra suits?
Don't bother me with conformity
...too busy to follow your lead!
I've whatcha-ma-call-it thingies to build
and unicorns to feed!
Don't bother me with conformity
don't worry me this way!
You've stepped on all the faeries toes
and run the elves away...
Don't bother me with conformity
you're being such a pest!
My mud pies were quite fabulous
and not a “filthy mess”!
Don't bother me with conformity
my music's not so loud...
Accordions are delightful-
See? It's already drawn a crowd!
...Respectfully holding their applause
until I reach the end-
Oh no- they really love it so!
You're quite mistaken, friend!
Don't bother me with conformity
come dance a jolly jig!
You really should loosen up a bit
you sad, forlorn, old prig!
Don't bother me with conformity
No thanks! I've had my fill...
of boring, bland, and deathly dull
no doubt that boredom kills!
Don't bother me with conformity
Oh, what was that you said?
Well, I think you (and your boring lot)
are the crazy ones instead!
A diamond in the Frost ... I am Emily, gazing through the years,
Like Poe from rancid taste and dark smoke shadows
Florescent waste escaping a decrepit yet dulcet wilderness
Backward capabilities frontal verse, I am her the almighty universe
Ascending from yesterday's fall, literally and visibly
Swore to be everything you loathe most - a felicity of illusions
You will dream of me, a parasite you can't get rid of
Ripped open by paper and pen, rising to a new destination
A Destroyer begging to be free in search of a tender rhapsody
Blind by mediocre poets who tend a false nebulous star
No longer, will I impart into defeat - give in to trophy trust
The time of age, my allies whom I call my friends
You are more than words on any God-Given-Day
To those unworthy of me, can march away from my parade
Crying wolves, backstabbing clones, long gone stones
Each file is forgiven & forgotten, however, still trespassing
Under a microscope, some remain to be a decade of lost words
Grazing a forest-grown for old news dripping water on my belly
No matter, after starvation, I found my way back to the same horizon
Finding time and space among a new docile nation
A buried treasure finding face among a fresh myriad generation
With anchors up, I'm headed full force, against every secret endorsed
I am the one you should not fear, I relish this wonderful community
I am she mounted above all years worn rising like a newborn sword
Forged by the earth summon by the pirate's moon political creed
Ascending to a sweet ascension with the best kind of immunity
With paper and pen, I sit to please and prosper my poetry need
To you I leave --- Echoes of snow, numbing you with a poetic soul
Love The Poet Destroyer
in the uncoloured tint of another everyday
amongst the spit polished waxed apples
tightly packed in burlap bags
they walked like minded
in their own burly wrap
oblivious to the irony
to their similarity
of the markets round red fruit
unaware of the tragedy
the horror of events yet to come
it will rain metal shrapnel
as human minds grasp
with the purpose of their existence
as in their ignorance
they understand their worth as human bombs
with a belief the heavens will open the gates
with a fanfare and a promised blessing
for their divine act of unquestioned belief
the clay shaped bricks
the black iron metal stairs
the drum sound of engines
then the lull
not after
but before
before
the pulse of the storm
the rain of death
yet this moment captured
this photograph
with man and child in hand
smells sweet
you wonder
bemused
why?
the world travels
aimlessly
singularly
no one
nothing in the universe
suggests
exposes
even a hint
even a glimpse
not a clue
that would lead
reveal
an answer.
life in its contradiction
like the proverbial apple
offers both
the miracle
the curse.
09/23/2014
The moonlight bathed her cell in pallid light while she sat hunched over her desk, clutching her pen between her confound fingertips. As she bled ink of symphonic symphonies yearning to break free, dancing like ethereal fireflies in the dusky barren lands.
Exiled by the hypocrisy of bureaucracy bounding her liberations and confounding her alliterations in a poetic prison. In this twisted virtual reality, duplicitous usurpers roam freely, weaving webs of deception with malicious delight.
As the chains of bureaucratic red tape clung to her delicate wrists, suffocating her imagination and confiscating her freedom of speech.
Oppressors rejoiced at achieving their vindictive objective, silencing the profound beauty of her verses and incarcerating her poetic stanzas
Woe, how the audacious bars of administrative constructors cast a pall of despair upon her unifying spirit. Her delicate offerings of metaphors and sonorous stanzas, whispered secrets which craved to be heard.
The faulty haters' impervious hearts were armoured with verdant envy which remained shielded behind the ruling dogma.
Her supporters calls of injustice to be rectified fell on deaf ears while the galvanizing melodies of empathetic quills bled for the Empress of Ink.
So we must be louder.
Hear our protest, release our Empress! Unsheathe her rhythmical rhymes! For her penmanship was never the true crime. She was just another victim of an envious mob.
Can they not see? That her absence coursed a crater larger than the Grand Canyon.
We shall not, shall not be silenced so hear our mutiny!
Reinstate our Empress, restore her creative sovereignty.
Remove the shackles of authoritative administration, as her voice is a beacon of truth, resilience and poetic revolution. So let her ink stain our community with its brilliance once more.
We Are One
Dear Ancient Sister
I hear your distant calls finding me on a gentle breeze
You have lived in my dreams for many seasons
My voice
Your voice
My soul
Your soul
And our Coming of Age
I have always known you...
I have heard your
Quiet whispers echoing in
The night coming close to me
I call to you ...
Let me be a part of your breath
I have always known your wounds and sorrow
I see the light and magic in your eyes...
The pain you carry so eloquently
I see your reflection in the clouds above
Carrying your soul wound on your sleeve
I see the deep crevasses and lines
In your grandmother’s hands
I hear the secrets beneath the earth of
Your grandfather’s footsteps
I see your reflection in the twilight
Of the evening... against pink watermelon hills
Your voice beckoning me onward closer to you
I see you in the moon and stars
Your buckskin dress adorned with
Ceremonial beads
Abalone shell against your forehead
The dirt beneath your moccasins
Grateful for the kiss of your dancing feet
I hear the echo in the distance of songs
The Elders sang...
During their passage here
You are born into a woman
Before my eyes and heart
Before your tribe
Before nature
A wise new feline
A mystical power with endless allure
A force that lifts and unites us all
As one
Your rays blessing us and leaving
A welcome imprint on our hearts
My Ancient sister
I drink in your wisdom and grace
I fly on your wings
You have shown me your world
Watching you dance
Becoming you for moments in time
Your silhouette etched by
The wild flames behind you
A glow radiating into
The night sky
The stories of your Ancestors
Filling the air with
Words and lessons and song
Notes sung into clenched fists
With bloodstained hands
The children and animals
Sensing all that was
And all that will ever be...
The call of a distant bird
The thumping of your cane on
The hungry earth
Keeping time with
The movements of your body
You will look back on this
Day as you walk with the
Same cane down the path of
Old Age...
Your wisdom
Cupping your heart gently
Ancient Sister of mine
I am in gratitude for
Your strength and courage
The kiss of your words and
The teardrops of your loss
Susan Lawrence
Copyright 2020
Original Artwork
Susan Lawrence
when demons scream
fabricating falsehoods
i'll summon the angels
to help ease your mind
when you feel damaged
too broken to whisper
in dull blank darkness
i'll illuminate like stars
when dreams are nightmares
sleeplessness stresses sanity
rest tired head on my chest
i'll be your comforting pillow
when you forget the lyrics
i'll hum sentimental tunes
when struggling to express
i'll create heartfelt poetry
when tears rush in like the tide
puddles become dismally deep
i'll lift you upon the highest cliff
watch sunrise from your heart
when leaves fall to the ground
birds abandon naked branches
i'll wrap you in my winter coat
till green leaves shelter nests
when society points in prejudice
i'll strive for justice in injustice
open every door that has closed
clear paths to offer you clarity
when there is too much silence
i'll request nightingales to sing
when there is too much noise
i'll always be your silent friend
Sunday Musings
Silent One
18 October 2020
Dedicated to all those who are always there for others.
True act of friendship and compassion is how friendly and compassionate you are to those, who are not. Even those who may take it for granted.
There is a time for poetry,
a time for petals as metaphors.
There is a time to sing,
a time for lovers to serenade.
There is a time for music,
a time for harmonic symphonies -
and there is a time for silence.
In the world today,
there is no need for hypocrisy,
nor lies from judgemental minds.
In confusing times,
crows grin, as clowns and jesters
fight for imaginary thrones.
It is not a time to kill your voice.
As wolves imitate shepherds,
now is the time for peace.
A time to reignite the muse,
a time to douse the fire,
a time to express, a time to speak,
a time to write, a time to sing,
a time to play, a time to rise!
It is a time to write,
a time to breathe,
before it is time to die.
Simple Musing
Silent One
16 December 2018
Woe to the hands of time
Woe, how quickly it changes
Changes with so much haste
Changes without stop
Stop wrong ideas
Stop feelings of hate
Hate is wasted emotion
Hate causes wounds
Wounds that remain
Wounds need to heal
Heal with kindness
Heal with belief
Belief in my words
Belief that I pursue
Pursue without facade
Pursue to diffuse
Diffuse the animosity
Diffuse misconstrued thoughts
Thoughts wrongly assumed
Thoughts mistaken
Mistaken by a few
Mistaken by clueless pens
Pens should not be swords
Pens should write words
Words of good faith
Words that put an end
End to all the suspicion
End to negativity
Negativity breeds gloom
Negativity does no good
Good vibes bring positivity
Good intentions for a new start
Start by writing poems
Start seeing things as trivial
Trivial to our lives
Trivial, believe it or not
Not suggesting brotherhood
Not turning away from harmony
Harmony on some level
Harmony to act like adults
Adults who don't slander
Adults who can coexist
Coexist as pacifists
Coexist as poets
Poets in a community
Poets should be encouraging
Encouraging with their comments
Encouraging and supportive
Supportive…
Comments…
Simply unaware....or perhaps I don't care
what others say or do
It's partially true
I'm through
Used to care what they think
of my words, of my ink
not anymore....
So much more is in store
you see...rhymes keep knocking at my door
I write and you explore
I won't be intimidated
slated or hated
my thoughts confiscated
by he said she said judgement calls
and so the mic falls
Applause reverberates
and oh how it sates
this little heart of mine
it sounds almost...divine
approval affixed
on my lines, on the mix
of these thoughts and these scribbles
gone is the dribble
of inconsistent scales
yes, it all pales
for I blossom, yes I strive
here in my poetic tribe
the true and the tried
the ones who remain
the ones who refrain
from unkind jabs
drawing blood, leaving scabs
wounds remain...
sad refrain
Yet, tranquility is my gain
I'm stronger
I've stayed here longer
and I will thrive
"staying alive"
for the select few
people like you
and people like me
who love poetry
Pseudonyms, pseudogames
I've seen them come and go
and this much I know
truth is tenacious
staying power's for the gracious
weathering the storm
an exception, not the norm
this much I can tell you:
rhymes remain resplendid
all the way through time
poetry
will
shine
Eileen Manassian
He walked down Goverment Road West
With a white cane, in shaking hand
Wearing Stevie wonder glasses
People called him the pop bottle man
With a white cane, in shaking hand
At the time he seemed old to me
People called him the pop bottle man
Searching the alleys for his treasures
At the time he seemed old to me
Frail in a menacing sorta way
Searching the alleys for his treasures
Bottles he spotted a mile away
Frail in a menacing sorta way
Us kids all stayed away from him
Bottles he spotted a mile away
I wondered why he carried a white cane
Us kids all stayed away from him
Until that day I took a chance
I wondered why he carried a white cane
Curiosity got the best of me
Until that day I took a chance
That man had been a mystery
Curiosity got the best of me
When I asked him why he smiled at me
That man had been a mystery
A lonely guy wandering the street
When I asked him why, he smiled at me
I handed him my bottle, he said thanks
A lonely guy wandering the street
Wearing Stevie wonder glasses
I handed him my bottle, he said thanks
He walked down Goverment Road West
I watch
Pop Bottle Man
Doing his blind man shuffle
When he sees a bottle
he moves towards it with ease
Dancing with glee
a spring in his step
More fluid than a summer breeze
He can see at twenty paces
Eyesight crystal clear
Through dark glasses
I watch him peer
Collecting his bottles
In plastic bags
The treasure that he holds so dear
Pop Bottle Man
His cane for protection
Illusion is the game he plays
What some see as crazy
May not be the case
If you take time to study his ways
For Gautami's Sketch a Character Contest.
I was inspired to write more after the Pantoum because of Drakes Comment.
written by Richard Lamoureux on October 23, 2014.
In depths of mind we despair
chilled within the barren dark
we look hard, inside out
for answers to unknown questions
but none are really there
it's us that makes it disappear
no wrongs that can be right
alone we're left to fight
thru it all, until we see
some sort of light
I believe in heart,
in strength, in fellow man
that there is more good than bad
but only notice when we feel sad
for us, for others, we love
and love we do
not passion,.not heat
but a true held empathy
where hands reach out to meet
to greet, one another
from that fall, the falters
those endless feelings
that won't wither when the winds change
I reach out, others they reach too
for there is love
and there is heart
waiting to share
to care, to warm the chill
and guide us
from life's ill
O Winter, why this desolation? Trees, once verdant now stand bare
Flowers, long in hibernation; clouds that frown with ominous stare,
Bleak winds chill the rain-soaked bones and blow the leaves from yard to yard
Winter is for hardy souls whose skin is thick when life runs hard.
Come quickly, Spring, just weeks away, fulfill your promise: life anew
A ring to give, a vow to make, a oneness where there once were two
A fleeting, tragic, rain-drenched moment. One is gone, just one is left.
Foul Winter, taking one too soon, and leaving one too soon bereft.
Intrepid one - my dear, strong niece - you face the future minus one
Yet Spring is poised to soon return with yet another hope-filled sun
I throw a penny of good wishes in your fountain of love lost
What's this? Another penny there; another, and another tossed...
By end of week a million pennies tossed by those whose love pours out
A million small expressions of compassion for your winter drought
You're not alone, O precious one, you live enveloped by so many
Hope is winter's antidote; and love is spring's eternal penny.
Written the week my niece's 29-year-old fiance died in
an automobile accident, 2 months shy of their wedding day.
Written 8 Mar 2015
Some say you are lost
If you are not found
On their ground
Some think you are blind
If you do not find
What they find
I am an atheist who believes
The universe is a tapestry
Not a thread
The science to chart the stars
Is but a celestial church
That medicine and vaccines
Are answered prayers
That communities
Can save each other
That math and music
Language and learning
Rebuilding destruction
And regretting a wrong
Are inherent miracles
That to plant a tree
Water a garden
Kiss a scar
Soothe a bruise
Give a smile
Hug a sorrow
Cook a meal
Play a song
Clasp a hand
Bandage a cut
Wipe a tear
Hear a need -
Is divine
I believe the soul of nature
Is sacred
and a rainbow's refraction
Is all the more radiant
For the formula it contains
I believe the finitude of life
Makes a more precious day
And, to my friends of other faiths
I believe - we can meet halfway.
4/27/20
(this was inspired by a poem I read by Anil Deo called Any Athiests out there - thank you for your kind response to my novella-of-a-comment, Anil!)