Best Concrete Poems
.
please
fill please
in you
my would
heart
by
cupping
your
right
hand
over
the
right
side
of
the
poem
and
pray
for
healing
Half of my heart is not well
Please cup your hand to complete it..
hello hello
butterfly flutterby
epitome of symmetry
graceful & elegant
modest & innocent
whispering
hues & color
spreading loving cheer
a breath sweet kiss
a bit of bliss
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology book ~HELLO BUTTERFLY~ 2020
AP: 2nd place 2022, 2nd place 2020, 3rd place 2020
POTD October 2, 2019
Submitted on October 1, 2019 for contest Writing Challenge, October - Butterfly sponsored by DEAR HEART- WIISHKOBE ODE - RANKED 1ST
The
old house
from my memories
opens to a wide porch
adorned by mom with her
loving touch.Herbs,flowers
swayed to caressing breeze
Lilies in pink, roses in blue
and bougainvilleas that
blushed in lilac hues.
Green tulsi shrubs
tended with care.
Ah! leaves that
flavored
our tea.
They
were
laced
by a
fence
with a
sweet aroma
from tendrils
curling bluebells
intertwined in mesh.
The fragrant jasmine,
she sang to them
and put one in
her wavy hair.
Spring bloomed them to full moon. Monsoons brought a divine petrichor
that made us breathe the heavenly aroma of her love. She taught me
to care for them under the Mahogany tree that enveloped them from
raging heat. She worshipped her nursery like her own kids. Every
evening, dad used to share his stories watching the rosy blush.
On moonlit nights, we stargazed lying on the grassy bed and
listened to old songs on radio. I had built a corner of three
bricks to keep my favorite books to bloom and read them
on lazy noon with cuckoo's songs breathing intermingled
scents. When we left that house, the garden lived for
someone else. My mom had wished they would care
for it like she did. I packed my old books to move on.
Now years later, far from mom, when I miss my garden
of bliss, I unpack those books that still release scents of
roses and jasmine drenched and dancing, releasing soothing
petrichor. For a love so deep shall bless me now in my kitchen
garden, confined to few flowers. That love still blooms with those
books as I inhale the fragrance of those foregone days. Like I carry
my mother's essence in everything I am, the divine garden of that heaven
from my memories and the eternal fragrance of mother gleaming, lives on.
~ To the garden where I wrote my first poem
There is a scar
On my face
Small, steadfastly placed
One only notices if they are this close
To kissing my soul
On my cheek
Below the eyes and sideways
Beside the bubble-gum sweet
Mouth, vivacious story teller
like an upside down
sharp angled half moon
The endless emotions of my sky
So attractively rough
It attacks the delicate features of my face
Allowing my streetwise beautiful
Personality
To shine through, I don’t hide thetruth
It’s as plain as the scar on my face
Life isn’t ugly, you make it that way
Some days I wish it wasn’t there
But I always
Appreciate it’s presence
I won’t ever forget
When I received
The blow to my vanity
From a fight over youthful yearnings
Inside this
Is my learning processes
Scars hold history
I shall carry with me
Through tough times
Soft and easy, peaceful
To remind me
Of me
THE BLACK
SATIN HAT
SAT TIGHT
ON THE YOUNG MANS BALD
HEAD. HIS
EYES BLACK AS
NIGHT STARED INTO
NOTHINGNESS. IN
FRONT OF HIM
WERE 3
PATHS WHERE THE
CHILDREN HAD ROLLED
THREE BALLS OF SNOW MUCH EALIER THAT VERY DAY.
PATCHES OF GREEN GRASS
STUCK THROUGH PACKED
FREEZING SNOW.
IN THE MIDDLE OF HIS FACE
A CROOKED CARROT POINTED TOWARD
THE HOUSE WHERE CHILDREN SAT LOOKING
OUT THEIR WINDOW AT THEIR NEW FOUND
FRIEND. HIS BUTTON MOUTH SHAPED FOR
HIM TO LOOK HAPPY SEEMED TO SMILE
AT THEM AS THEY STARTED TO BLOW
KISSES AT THEIR WONDERFUL
NEW SNOWMAN.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
10.27.2014
It's a very important box
one we will be passing on.
bombs
pollutionglobalwarming
warslotsofwarshate
racismbullyingguns
narcissismfakefood
liesisolationismvirus
badrolemodelssugar
tonprescriptiondrugs
Our children's future
what will we fill it with?
_____________
(_____GOD_____)
(_____LORD_____)
(_____ JESUS _____)
(_______RABBI______)
(_______TRUTH_______)
(________SAVIOR________)
(________ MESSIAH________)
________(_______ HOLY SPIRIT_______)_______
___(_______________ KING OF KINGS_______________)___
(________________ EVERLASTING FATHER________________ )
(__________________ THE PRINCE OF PEACE___________________)
(__________________GOOD SHEPHERD__________________)
(_______________ LION OF JUDAH_______________)
(________ LORD OF ALL________)
(______MIGHTY ONE______)
(_______HOLY ONE_______)
(______ DELIVERER ______)
(_______SHEPHERD_______)
(______MEDIATOR______)
(______ADVOCATE______)
(______REDEEMER ______)
(______CAPSTONE______)
(_______PROPHET_______)
(_______SAVIOR ________)
(_______THE WAY_______)
___(______ALMIGHTY _______)__
__(_______THE BREAD OF LIFE_______) _
_(____________THE LAMB OF GOD__________)_
(_________THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD_________)
I
ask
you to
mind our
earth, heed
our existence
upon it, care for
our lives and all that
will occur if we cannot
consider beyond ourselves,
if we are guided by uncertainty,
when we fear the unknown, when we
shun those who differ from us in skin color,
in sex, in persuasion, if we turn our eyes away,
when we dance upon the hidden strings of politicians
or cunning puppetmasters, when we swallow the lust of war,
when poets languish in isolation, without ear or encouragement,
when we torture, when prejudice blinds us to the humanity of another,
when our deluded misconceptions will go public with ready trigger finger,
when we mistake violence for the solution, when we fail the worthy person,
when we won't bother to look past the wheelchair and to whom he really is,
to say his real name, when the most expected thing we will share with him
is discrimination, when we forget that here in space we are in this together,
when tomorrow is the day that old and young will die in roaring explosions,
in quiet corners without notice, when people are driven from their homes,
when women must live in fear, when we steal identities, when evil hides
in anonymity, when we rest in apathy, indifferent to the pain of others,
when our fellow creatures are in chains for our profit and amusement,
when hunger and hatred are accepted, when malice shrieks loud,
when we cut baby girls due to generational gender inequality,
from psychosexual ignorance and hard superstition;
when we deny justice to one lonely voice,
our world falls, stretching itself
into a teardrop.
December 26, 2016
For FJ Thomas's contest - 'Concrete Crush'
The warm temperature drops outdoors,
And first drops of fresh rain sprinkle.
The thunder claps right above me,
As lightening is striking afar.
Dust is blowing in the wind,
Trees are bending fiercely,
A train horn blares,
As the core nears me.
Then sudden silence,
A calm reappears.
Electrical fires start,
For a moment one
Thinks it’s over,
Then it starts
Again quickly.
Passing by my
Home taking
My neighbors,
Tin flying by,
The tornado
Fades, look
At all the
Damage.
And I
Am
Uns
c
a
t
h
e
d.
My poem is about Tornadic weather and evokes
Water in, 'first drops of fresh rain sprinkle'
Wind in, 'Trees are bending fiercely'
Earth in 'Dust is blowing in the wind'
Metal in 'Tin flying by'
Fire in, 'Electrical fires start'
Feeling in 'The warm temperature drops outdoors'
Smell in 'First drops of fresh rain sprinkle'
Taste in 'Dust is blowing in the wind'
Sight in, Lightening is striking afar'
Hearing in 'A train horn blares'
_____________________________
Inspired by Deborah Guzzi's
Five Senses / Five Elements contest.
. *
*
*
I
am
the
star
that
shone
brightly
in the East
that night
so long ago
A heavenly light
that guided wise men
to the place where He lie
In a manger on a blanket of hay
****Christ -Immanuel - a radiant child - a gift from God****
His only son who died on a cross
for teaching us to love and
help one another
for this is
the only
way
there
Will
ever
be
peace
on
Earth
*
*
*
.
Tiny
Little
Hummingbird, O how
You
With your
Emerald wings
Inspire the imagination
Set our minds free, And give us wings
As we flit and dart through pine scented sunshine
Gathering dreams, singing a new song
As troubles melt away
And the joy of living
Returns to us
With every
Heart
beat
A
New
World
Unfolds to
Embrace us
With love
And
Joy
FLUTTER BY BUTTERFLY
DANCE YOUR WAY ACROSS THE SKY
WITH YOUR TISSUE PAPER WINGS THOSE DELICATE AND DAINTY THINGS
FLASH WITH COLOURS OH SO BRIGHT STILL SHINING IN THE MORNING LIGHT
NATURE’S GREATEST WORK OF ART IT CANNOT HELP BUT STIR THE HEART
TO SEE THIS SPLENDID CREATURE IS THEIR NOT A BETTER FEATURE
OF THE BRITISH SUMMERTIME THAN SUCH AN INSECT SO DEVINE
EVER VIVID ALWAYS TRUE OH I KEEP THE BRIGHTEST HUE
WRAPPED INSIDE MY MEMORY FOR HARDER TIMES AHEAD OF ME
WHEN I’M IN NEED OF A SMILE I’LL STOP AND RECOLLECT A WHILE
THE BUTTERFLY’S HAPPY DANCE AND WITHIN MY PEACEFUL TRANCE
I FIND A SENSE OF CONTENT AT THE SUMMER THAT I SPENT
DREAMING WITH BUTTERFLIES
. The sound of
Stilettos coming home.
The echo reverberates
In the empty hall,
My heart
Salivates,
And my soul
Is at pure ease
To know that
Its soul mate
Has come home.
In the morning
Stilettos make
Deep sounds
Of their lone
Departured echoes.
My mind
Yearns and
Waits for
The sound to return.
The satisfying sound of resounding
Steps from the one I love to satisfy
Step their way down the long corridor.
The countdown begins after the evening news
I like to wait and listen to the beauty of
The last 10 steps reciting their poems in taps
In a rhythmic sequence of poetic bliss.
10 -9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1...I’m home.
() ()
A L
N I
N S
YIIIPPPEEEEEE!!!
JULY23232323
July 24,2014 10.30pm
Note: This is re-posting my simple gift to our very dear Anne Lise on her
birthday last Month. I hope you will enjoy.
on... Oh! Oh!
What? What?
Do you think of cats?
We have too many cats.
At least, they feast on rats.
Cats. (*) Cats! Cats! (*) Cats.
What do you think of that? I
have seen them with a mole.
Dead, pulled out of his hole.
A delicacy I once was told.
My cats are: Meow.
Some big fat- Meow!
Rat-eating cats. Meow!
I never see them eat a bat.
I guess at night, they sleep or chat.
Cats do not have wings. They cannot fly!
My, oh my, will they wish someday to fly?
At early dawn it is time to prowl. Not for owls.
Meow! They hunt for snakes, insects, some fowl.
Silently, sneakily, stealthy, spying, they P-o-u-n-c-e-!
It’s survival of the fittest, kitty cat style. Buy a bell.
You may see them on the ground or in a tree looking
down. Meow! Sometimes they will play in the sand.
Rolling, flipping around on every inch of ground.
Or you might find them upside down flexing,
Anticipating their morning prowl. Meow.
By and by, success is found.
In their kitty bowl... Meow.
Smiles! Meow, Meow, Smiles!
Copyrighted on January 27, 2010