Best Complemented Poems
I could not write poetry
till I was brain damaged
a life of shame, abuse
no good to anyone, oh yes and of no use
hiding behind the dark side of you.
Memories dreams are of that time,
many a mile we accomplished
amongst the grey stones
the bricks the muck
hiding behind the dark side of you.
I use to spend many hours
just looking for inspiration at the sky the ocean,
hear the rushing water
and in simplicity feel the gentle rain
hiding behind the dark side of you.
Why oh why should I wear this affliction
I’ve been many things in my life
that, which never stops creaking
lives here in one’s head
hiding behind the dark side of you.
Yesterday’s events were so different
penetrated my head my heart my soul
regarding earth’s greatest feats,
mainly war and of its dead
hiding behind the dark side of you.
The media’s strength used by the subtle
Oh! The mind control
tuned to sporadic applause
swells admiration for their efforts
hiding behind the dark side of you.
Truth complemented occasionally
then smashed into smithereens,
the pieces in abundance
having lived a life of torment
hiding behind the dark side of you.
Oh Soup! Quiet haven away from it all
aids to adorn my memories, just,
love, one hears and reads about every single day
helps no doubt this victim of society’s goals
hiding behind the dark side of you.
© Harry J Horsman 2013
Categories:
complemented, emotions,
Form:
Free verse
Perseverance
We’ve a signed Thomas Kinkade painting that hangs in our home
which carries the name “Perseverance”.
I t was a Christmas present from dear friends,
and many times I’ve looked at this painting and quickly
remembered the letter that complemented it, which stated,
“My prayer is that when you look at this painting… you will be reminded that no matter what you’re going through right then…that God is faithful…
and after each storm… the sun will shine again. and one of these days...THE SON...will break through those clouds in the eastern sky…
and forever… we’ll be made whole.”
This has been such a strength as God brought me through difficult situations.
It’s been a constant reminder,
That Tough Old Birds Never Give Up
Tom
Categories:
complemented, art, god, heaven, inspiration,
Form:
“Here lieth baby Rachel
Born 10th Sept 1894 Died 30th Oct 1896”
Marble stone that lays above the head,
white chippings that blanket the body,
flowerless vase that sits naked
crying out for a fragrant moment
if only to perfume its stagnancy.
I see an odorous pool being replenished,
rain drops aiding hope and life,
a renewal to the neoclassical container
that one day must have been complemented
with loving hands of grief.
I find no track to this lonely corner,
forgotten in this living place of death!
No visitor to gaze upon its epitaph
no one to care “Whom here lieth”
Beneath this broken monument.
“Velvet skin that the cruel age turns to husks,
naked bones left to mature the grass above,
weeping willow guardian of shade and light,
Who! Knows what nourishment
its searching tentacles beget.”
“Corpus soul aimlessly floating in limbo,
looking at me here this very minute?
Feeling my sensitivity as I stand here, alone,
Is there no escape for anyone?
‘Unless life is indeed the enemy’”
Warped in thought I stare at her monument,
built by caring minds and dexterous hands,
tradesmen whom with spade and chisel
penetrated sculptured within nature
just to honour a child’s brief life on earth.
I walk away along the newly beaten track,
grass and nettle bow before my impending stride,
my mind is wrenched with reverence,
I climb aboard my mechanized shovel
“I wonder why! Why should it bother me so!”
© Harry J Horsman 1992
Categories:
complemented, me,
Form:
Narrative
The little girl’s mom Tila,
worked hard to save enough money
It was her baby girl’s birthday,
how she loved her miel, her honey
She saw a Barbie doll that stood
in the window at Catarina’s Boutique
Wearing a traditional dress embroidered,
flowered details so unique
Sugar skulls glisten
a crown of marigolds adorn her hair
A Mexicana Barbie with long dark braids
nothing would compare
Complemented by a golden yellow flowery headband
The dolls face and body
a beautiful color of ochre, tanned
Spotted by the little girl
on their walk through the city
Calling out, que bonita!
Mamita she is really pretty
Maria Barbie printed on the box,
like hers, it was the same
She knew she had to have her,
when learned she shared her name
Tila rushed home to put the order in on the phone
The line went dead, there was a muted tone
She prayed the order went through that day
And hoped it would be received
on her daughter’s birthday
Because of the power outage in Pueblo,
a small town
The Barbie doll was gone,
lost and could not be found
Tila was sad when she told her miel
it was the last one of her kind
Don’t cry mamita, I already prayed another
little girl Barbie Maria will find
Categories:
complemented, cute love, lost,
Form:
Rhyme
I saw a little girl.
She was so beautiful,
Her hair was a shade of black with sheer brown strands.
Eyes sparkling, they almost passed as a handful of diamonds.
I almost cried.
I saw a little girl.
She was so beautiful,
She looked up to me and smiled, with a mouth so small.
Teeth as white as atop of a snowy mountain.
I bit my lip to hold back a sigh of pain.
I saw a little girl.
She was so beautiful.
She outstretched her hand,
It was so small complemented with so tiny fingers,
It could only fit half of mine.
I held my heart to feel if it still was beating.
I saw a little girl.
She was so beautiful.
I almost cried, I stared into her eyes,
Still sparkling, how could they not…?
She was innocent,
Yet she roamed the streets,
Looking for suitable shelter every knight.
I saw a little girl
She was so beautiful
I bit my lip to hold back a cry of pain, looking at her small mouth
Still smiling, how could she not…?
She was innocent
Yet she smiled so hard, thinking maybe
One would be so kind to feed her;
Feed her only for a day, so she could sleep
Almost as if tomorrow would never come.
I saw a little girl
She was so beautiful
I held my heart to feel if it was still beating.
Her hand still outstretched, how could she not….?
She was innocent
Lord knows what she was really hoping for.
A hand that would take her tiny little fingers,
And never let go of it.
Or just a hand out to get her through the day.
I saw a little girl
She was so beautiful
I almost cried, I bit my lip to hold back a sigh of pain
I held my heart to feel it was still beating.
I was still in front of her.
I gently stroked her hair;
Looked into her ever so beautiful eyes
Took her little hand in mine;
And whispered…
“Its cold out here let us go somewhere warm...”
And my heart gently singing…
“This is not where you belong,
The trials, hunger and coldness,
Have just simply come to stop”
Yes I saw a little girl
She was so beautiful…………
Categories:
complemented, child, emotions, encouraging, children,
Form:
Having soaked up
all her memories
whilst dancing
with the man she loved
So many nights remembered
as their souls soared up above
I complemented her red hair
rich emerald green my hue
designer elegance was I
so many compliments I drew
Throughout the years
much joy and laughter
but now I was feeling discarded
just hanging around in her wardrobe
in deepest
darkest
blackness
The only sounds I ever heard
were fluttering wings of moths
Arriving hungry every night
chomping and chewing
her clothes they did ruin
but from me ~ they did not take a bite
My fate not looking good
from conversations overheard
My swan song was for me to be
inside her coffin ~ just her and me
On entering the furnace
we would soar up to the sky
to the arms of her beloved
dancing to the end of love
Well this had been her plan
Until sweet girl Arabella
her precious granddaughter
now coming of age
One day asked my girl
could she please try me on
Now looking more positive
for my final swan song...
So surprised to be taken
back into the light
She gently unpacked me
to my utter delight
Arabella – her grandchild
was trying me on
in this emerald green dress
she shimmered
she shone
and me
~
this Emerald Green Dress
~
Well
~
I was out to impress…
Written 13th July 2019
after gifting my precious Emerald Green Dress to my granddaughter Arabella
now 18 years of age ~ and so the memories will go on…
Contest 'Brian's Choice X
Sponsor Brian Strand
HONORABLE MENTION
Categories:
complemented, granddaughter, green, love, memory,
Form:
Personification
Across
The vale,voices
In Easter Day worship,
Complemented a soul being
Mended.
addenda
A wood of snowdrops in the dawn,
yellow daffodils light the morn,
the scent of new mown grass,
Spring,Spring,here at last;
Bare branches greening up ,in bud,
busy birds line nesting with mud,
clematis spreading fast,
Spring,Spring,here at last;
The honeysuckle,leafing green,
new arrivals,in hedgerows seen,
Spring,Spring is in the earth,
our thoughts turn to new birth.
As Friday becomes Easter day,
we then,with hallelujahs pray.
Categories:
complemented, easter, faith, forgiveness, life,
Form:
Bio
A heavenly place,
Greenery complemented
With bird's sweet chirping.
Categories:
complemented, nature,
Form:
Haiku
This is a rat infested; flea bitten, trash seeking, concrete hardened,
Winter frozen, nose closing stench I call life.
Poverty my wife:
Ash my nourishment; paper my blanket; disorder my order;
Sewage my water; concrete my mattress; streets my room
No-one is who I am
Living to see another day my plan
Been all over the place but still the same street
Cracked the hardest sole by the greater feet,
Which though winter or summer bring the strongest cold?
BUT YET SO BOLD
To crack a smile of serenity, freeing me, peacefully
Un-comprehended but well complemented
But can’t dare to share it
With my enemies: the rich; the government; the wealthy
I salute you poverty, there were not supposed to be
Don’t they know the richer they are the poorer I become
I know that I’m black but poverty is where I’m from
They may get richer in rand but I’ve got more in cent
Common and the ones jingling in my pants
That’s why I say:
“This is a rat infested; flea bitten, trash seeking, concrete hardened,
Winter frozen, nose closing stench I call LIFE.”
POVERTY MY WIFE
Categories:
complemented, poverty, youth,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Watered and nurtured in
a congregation of a large brotherhood
the master is loving and caring
never allowing harm befall us all
or competition from green exploiters trouble us.
Weeds are cleared and burnt
Pests- fought back and eradicated,
all these enjoyment and their corresponding blessings
so unthinkable and unexplainable but real.
Then comes another master
with lips that can hallucinate the mind to goodness
and countenance so charming to both good and evil.
Our backs are scraped off to look a new
then packaged in groups to look so refined.
Excitement between brothers overwhelms all emotions
then off we leave the master’s shed
going to an unknown with the hope of better blessings.
In bits, we are sold out
angry I am that others were chosen ahead of me
then my time comes as warm hands collect me
washed and broken into pieces- my new self.
I looked bountiful in appearance
and so gracious in sight.
Why didn’t my first master do these things?
Why was he so rigid and uneventful?
Why did he care so much to limit my independence?
And all he wants is to put us under his oversight.
Different buyers come for different parts of me
the same mouths clothed in smiles
are the same sucking all sweetness out of me
each bite, a merciless chew
complemented by a drag of my light
into their darkness to render me worthless.
Now that I am reduced to nothing,
I am thrown out to the ground straight from the mouth
while hands stay irritated and too proud
to touch or carry me to my ruin.
From one to ten and them hundreds of feet,
they all step on me without noticing.
Oh such care from the plantation!
Now I wish I had remained there
I long to return to the brotherhood
and pray for the loving arms of my first master.
All others are beings of deception and lies
they come only to steal, to kill and to destroy
but He gives life eternal to those who seek it.
I am the sugarcane chaff and right now redemption is far gone
but I leave this note to let you know
that your ability to read it is a chance to accepting Him.
Categories:
complemented, christian, god, gospel, lost,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
He sat fixated on her
Watching her every move
She gently rubbed her hands together
Warming them up before she held it
She leaned forward to take a look
Before adjusting her posture
Her jet black hair complemented her tanned skin
She parted her silky soft rosy lips
And put it in
Then took it out and hypnotically licked the end
Before placing the end back between her lips
This was the moment he was waiting for
The suspense would be denied its satisfaction
He knew that all this was for him
His pleasure would be adorned and excessively aroused
Then she began
He closed his eyes to block out the world
The smile on his face express the peak of his delight
As she played Lakme’ SousLe Dome Epais (The Flower Duet)
Categories:
complemented, love
Form:
Rhyme
Unobligated of entourages for serenity and tranquility
Honest smiles complemented of sincerity creating stability
Withdrawals of ignorance generating wisdom and new gentility
Finally the soul moves freely with a novel sense of mobility
I welcome you maturity
Perceptions no longer create deceptions and inner conflicts within
New meanings of comfortablity under one’s own skin
Unengaged in following corporate America’s oblivious trend
Now I befriend a blend of enlightenment in means to amend
I welcome you maturity
Life has more color in wiser eyes
Things become clearer such as honesty and lies
Seeing pass mine and other personas in disguise
I notice and slightly grin as my levels of realization arise
I welcome you maturity
I Thank God for delivering me from obscurity
No confusion I’m not perfect there still lays impurity
A luta continua meaning the struggle continues
However I continue with a new sense of security
I welcome you maturity
Love & peace/ a luta continua
- James Faulkner
Categories:
complemented, life
Form:
Rhyme
The Slide Ruler
As regulations rule this world from outside in and my time slowly
seeps away on this planet’s realm I gaze in awe at that once modern
instrument of calculation that dangles from the ceiling lamp in my
~ Study ~
In forward looking nostalgia my memories ambivalent a reminder of
words scripted on paper in fountain pen and blotting paper absorbing
the logic never understood derived from square rooted calculus’s incisive
~ Precision ~
I failed the examination maybe my hands were too clumsy or my mind
too entangled in quests of a different kind of looming poet trees
in onward advances flooding naive crafting knitting dreams and emotional
~ Liberation ~
I tried to run away and on track right by the start of a marathon
real and timed in a fast moving obsession I discovered my ruler sliding
into my fingers for a Euro in red plastic casing with figures organizing
~ Incomprehension ~
Metaphorical and analogue to a desire to escape from the dogma of science
eschewing the unquestioned paradigm of only one truth and one answer
only as well as the modern compulsion with bits and apps it reminds me of
~ Signposts ~
Trivial directives which lead me away and beyond of what can be counted
calculated in the hamster wheeling rat race of pretending to know
exactly what is an illusion in any case plastic or iron cased in
~ Rationalization ~
Nevertheless and because of what I could not understand with a
slide ruler and the pretence of computer colonized minds around me
I cherish not simply for all time’s sake that comprehension results from
~ Fragmentation ~
And thus found the whole kit and caboodle the complementation of
polarity synthesized opposites complemented diversity celebrated in the
festival of life and the living with brick a brack completing the meaning of
~ Life ~
24th October 2016
Old Jewelry Or Just Old Things Contest
Categories:
complemented, life,
Form:
Free verse
Queen Olivia was a royal with ebony hair
which complemented her almond eyes,
who had the power to bewitch beyond obscurity,
she gave the appearance of being aloof,
which was a masquerade that covered
her desire of bestowing a death wish upon guests
as she hypnotized them in her private chambers,
innocent victims who met their end were taken
to the bowels of the castle of doom and left to
decay forever as each was piled on top of another,
all bearing a suture on top of their heads depicting
Queen Olivia's coat-of-arms of crossed swords,
as the years passed and more victims perished,
her queenly veneer transformed to a maniacal one,
walls which were opaque were painted blood red,
drained from the bodies before they were entombed.
June 5, 2018
Categories:
complemented, horror,
Form:
Free verse
Interesting to think
that these bodies,
preened and sculpted, thin and thick, rigid and soft,
are but skin and bone of different sizes and face;
A body in the end after all is done
will easily become wrinkled and loose, frail and fractured, old and pale
but still only skin and bone,
and finally of no remaining substance.
All mind and thought, physique and beauty, grace and eloquence,
only shells that once held life
now, becoming nothing but dust,
releasing at last, the soul.
I have come to know for me
the importance of what lies within,
often unseen and unrevealed to man.
My shell of a body, I am sure
was chosen by someone else
for surely, I would have chosen better,
a tall, slender more appealing container than this;
but alas,
this is the one i have for now,
satisfactorily used and tapered
despite the appearence of my father's face and shape.
My mediocre looks are at the very least,
complemented by my personality, not quite shy
but not overly outspoken
just enough of me for all to know my self confidence.
Independence and self determination and this body
have gotten me through the years despite myself,
I am satisfied and content with that with time
I have and am true to myself, my friends, my beliefs.
Categories:
complemented, age, body, life, time,
Form:
Free verse