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
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
“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
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
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…………
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
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.
A heavenly place,
Greenery complemented
With bird's sweet chirping.
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
My ears a complete pair,
with gratitude for every tiny sound.
They complemented each other
in so many ways.
As "hand in glove".
Mickey Mouse ears,
they're my royal crown.
Exploration
in empathetic listening.
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.
I’ve fallen in love multiple times.
and I’ll fall in love again.
When the stranger plodding around the terrace,
woolgathering much like me
below a sky that dipped itself in a teasing pink,
cast a smile at me,
her eyes glimmering against the infant light of the moon,
and waved,
I fell in love.
When the soaring rises of brick and cement,
towering gloriously beneath a velvet coat,
painted amorously in ochre, gold and auburn
like autumn leaves that crackle under my boots,
stood there gorgeously amidst the wails of vehicles
embellished by the whooshing wind of an unknown sea,
I fell in love.
When a child of four walked up to me,
with expectant eyes twinkling on a suffered visage,
his feet so tiny that they more hopped than walked,
his clothes tattered and ragged against a skin
testimony to endurance and resilience,
with hope for light in the folded hollow of his palms--
which light kindled in the bliss that his face beamed when
we shared a champ together--
I fell in love.
when I hooked on earrings embroidered with pink
simply because I love pink on me,
worshipped my neck with a silver chain
that complemented its subtleties with delicacy yet passion;
then painted my lips in a hue near maroon
just because I liked the way maroon made me feel confident,
and sat on a stool on the desolate balcony,
a cup in one hand smelling of caffeine,
a pen in another,
scribbling in the air till it found
words worthy enough to describe this
me
you
us
I fell in love again.
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)
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
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