Best Confides Poems
The last gold leaf hangs on the bough;
summer is just a memory now.
You, too, have gone, my golden friend;
our summer days came to an end.
We said goodbye; our chapter closed.
How I will miss you no one knows.
On eagle wings you split the skies;
your spirit soared. You had to fly.
My earthbound soul will bear its grief
severed from you on mortal reef;
but returning from yonder shore,
your love in waves will wash me o'er.
You've gone before, my trusted love;
I wait behind, your mourning dove;
yet, from across the great divide
your voice to me in dreams confides.
No, I think not that dreams they are;
but communion of the near with far.
On such sweet songs I stake my claim
to know and love you once again.
Copyright, 1987, Faye Gibson
deprived of a father to tell her that her skirts to small
she wore it to hug her hips and rise with every sway in her walk
her mother, another statistic of having babies to young,
was to whipped in her dip trying to be hip so she cheered her poor child on
she's dying to survive in a broken home
daddy not around to watch her spend a penny and mamas hardly home
she's dying to survive and she's put her school on hold
she's another undereducated black child with no priorities or goals
she careers soliciting her body, making it hobby to walk up and down blocks
waiting for the right brotha she can sweet talk and pick pocket
at the honk of his horn, she stops hot trotting
hopped in his car and found a quiet spot for lip locking
her hand rises up his leg, she feels for his man
he nods giving her consent
she prices her body for those new Jordan and dolce & gabbani
she'd rather rock the latest fashions then to feed her starving body
she's hopelessly devoted to being the hottest at the parties
she's dying to survive wanting attention to feel the space neglected by another
who makes alcohol a hobby
she's dying to survive rich living is her poverty
she's deaf to her inner voice that yells to her it's wrong
she confides in bad associates who cheer her on
she doesn't know this is how she's dying
she's dying to survive
The 44th President “one who is blessed” in Swahili,
Happens to love his wife’s Shrimp Linguini.
His desk, in the senate office once belonged to Robert Kennedy!
Renegade Tried to make it in to an all black male calendar,
But was rejected by an all female committee.
He wares $1500 Hart Schaffer suits,
With one of his identical pair of size 11 shoes.
When the president stands up you never hear any boo’s.
A few good luck charms he has with him,
A Madonna and child frozen for eternity,
And a bracelet of the arm of a man fighting in Iraq.
Bar can lift an impressive 200 pounds wile lying on his back.
His favorite delight to drink is Black forest iced tea,
Wile looking at his red boxing gloves signed by Mohamed Ali.
But never ask him out to Baskin Robbins, he don’t like ice cream.
But if you gave him a chocolate protein bar his dream.
Hide any dog meat snake meat or roasted grasshoppers up high,
For all these things he has tried.
All wile keeping his dignified pride.
He gets a snip and a trim once a week cost him $21 dollars,
That’s real cheap thanks to Zariff.
In whom the Obomber confides in to talk about the week.
He mite have been the one who convinced the malotoe,
To trade his Chrysler 300 in for the hybrid.
His memoirs, Dreams from My Father won a Grammy in 2006.
He was o past war president that was left handed the 6th.
He left a stag party which had a stripper in 1996.
As a teenager he tried marijuana and cocaine,
And Berry collects comic books like spider-man and Conan the Barbarian.
His specialty as cook is chili,
His favorite TV shows are Mash and The Wire.
He has four places in a Chicago home to build a fire.
He uses an apple Mac laptop to look at Pablo Picasso art.
He has read every Harry Potter book,
I wonder if he spoke Spanish to his pet ape back in Indonesia.
God’s love is alive, a fire inside
Poured out by the Holy Spirit
Washing away all of the pride
Assuring of a comfort explicit
God’s love is a sincere promise
To give generously of real hope
A joy and peace that is flawless
Reassurance that helps to cope
God’s love is more than emotion
It is wise, faithful and passionate
Filled with a sweet, soft devotion
The sensation is fully extravagant
God’s love is the answer to prayer
Fills the heart with joy overflowing
Knows that there will always be care
And knowledge that faith is growing
God’s love is a compassionate embrace
Reminds us that we’ll always praise
It ensures the spirit of the thrill of grace
There is the awareness that does amaze
God’s love is a whisper that tells a secret
It is beautiful and charms the wild beast
Without pride, it produces a real meekness
And it gives from the heart to the very least
God’s love is a healer of the worst sorrow
Without a word it confides the best truth
That goodness and delight fill tomorrow
With all the lovingkindness that will soothe
God’s love is salvation of the soul
When it’s felt deeply, it truly consoles
Creating a sense of what is the goal
A life that the Holy Spirit fully controls
1 John 4:8 “He that loveth not knoweth not God: for God is love.”
Exuberant with an abundance of new youth,
A heart so fresh, so full of light,
Grows dark and begins to write,
It sees through the lies it knows the truth.
Its soul loves God; with him it confides, breaks bread,
The soul keeps its heart and continues to pray,
Until the day the heart converted the soul to grey,
Pain unfolded, for the human they held, was now dead.
From Harlem's pulse, a symphony untold,
Stories etched in a brownstone, dreams unfold.
Streetlamps pierce the twilight, jazz ignites,
Hope flickers, a flame against the nights.
Laughter rings on stoops where neighbors meet,
Gospel choirs rise, voices strong and sweet.
Stony sidewalks hold a million strides,
Asphalt dreams where destiny confides.
Stars peek through the rooftops, reaching high,
A silent promise whispered to the sky.
From Harlem's struggle, a spirit takes flight,
Soaring upwards, bathed in heavenly light.
Sentinel never sleeps;
resting upon water thrashed rocks,
this shining beacon of the sea.
Her watch, sees all,
Her stories sung in shanties,
by old salts;
She holds within the secrets,
which ocean confides.
She is a lighthouse and
she never betrays a trust.
12-17-18
“Lighthouse Poetry Contest”
Sponsor: Eve Roper
The day they fell
He stands before the great woods
Arms stretched, bracing the storm of machines
They roar and bark, trying to break his wall
But he stays put, Save the Forests he screams
The tress stand tall, lush and green
Seedlings sprout, Flowers bloom
Animals frolic in their wonderland
Is the forest really meeting it's doom?
He stands before the great woods
Protecting everything it confides
Many plants and animals are within
Away from the human eye they hide
Even if you have never seen them
Just take a step inside
The feeling of life the smell of grass
Do u really want them all to die?
The machines don't care
Around the forest they continue to surround
They have never seen the wind
And never heard the sounds
They never felt the wind against their faces
Never heard the rustling of leaves
Never seen the life in the forest
Never understood that it brings relief
Fire shoots up as the forest screams
Roars and crackles follow too
Animals run, plants sink to the floor
As the machine consumes the forests full
The trees spend decades growing up
The animals spend years moving in
But it only takes seconds to burn it down
To burn the forest into the size of a pin
What has the forest done he wonders
As He stands in front of the orange blaze
To deserve this kind of torturous pain
With Heat and sorrow right in his face
In war, no glory confides absolutely.
Or is resolute in its righteousness.
Its essence holds no certainties nor goal...nor future.
Clear objectives fade... Justification merely a work in progress.
Clandestine agendas drive enmity across air, sea, sand and meadow.
Misdirected.
Towards an enemy, unseen in tradition and culture.
Unknown, but reassuringly dangerous, a hive, confronting and threatening civilisation...
In the name of humanity...
No epic fanfares grill the blood of Hollywood romanticists,
Corrupted stars play out their scenes alone,
Through haunting canons,
And anthems of resounding calibre,
Without script and with most terrifying action.
Out of depth, out of body, into quagmire.
Confusion, comforted only by sterile demands,
Hollow victories,
Fallen...then...
Turmoil.
Lies perpetuate.
Comrades congratulate. Celebrate!
Lending solace to advocate horror, between initiate and tormented alike.
Through the soft, sweet lulls of passive exchange or the emphatic silence of success,
Numbness cradles contemplation.
Enveloping.
A ritual, deep and staring...a piercing, twisting...
Stark realisation!
Past actions, past faces,
Passed lives...
Humanity.
Recoiling...sickening...putrefying...
Wallowing amongst the ranks of brothers and sisters,
Nourishing avarice,
Dwelling in 'diplomatic' palaces and stately hideaways.
Inflating egos and balances from the dividends of limbs and bowel.
The truth gnawing, knowing and growing....
Overwhelming.
Prolapse of mind.
Prizing an unworthy soul...only to abandon.
Disjointed beings beg the questions – still
an ashen horse delivers what is owed.
Decisions kneel before compassion’s will,
to stop and help a turtle cross the road.
To comfort one another, brings them home,
confides the mornings, bedtimes now alone.
Concentric dreams preserve the lost to roam
among the ash and fields of sculptured stone.
From every foolish quest, those wasted years,
of mercy - time denies the rich and poor.
Whatever left, upon regrets and tears,
behind the coffins, curtains of velour.
Receive his blood the only way across,
eternal rock we trust in Savior’s Cross.
-----------------------------------------------------
Contest: Death
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Written: 10.20.17
Form: English Sonnet
At a tender age,
its when it all started.
Life is full of illusions,
as the english dictom confides.
Evidently all should have it,
an illusion that grows internally,
that was totally discovered at a younger age.
Definitely did the days flew faster,
did the development increased.
I could do better than yesterday,
and than the last one hour of rehearsal.
Deeply the percentage increased,
and i was blessed to do something
'My child,you got a talent",
Mother would say everytime she heard me sang.
Never thought what i had admired,
already was in me.
They said it was a talent,a gift from God,
but to me it was a dream ever came true.......
As granny said,
strive to posses the two words in future,
that is,'excellent and innovative',
the means to acquire those names should be strived for.
And if got,should be considered as part of life.
Therefore,talent as mama defined,is part of my life,
which i'll rehearse to the rest of the days to possess the granny's words.
The words of pleasure,
which are listed in the contents of better life of my future......
TALENT.....,WELCOME TO MY WORLD, YOU'RE PART OF MY LIFE.
I inflict the exact triumph of
wisdom
My heartbeat confides in the
mist of conflicts
I see myself as pawn
In the world where humans
controlled my destiny
I've lacked a sense of power
And life became a mental
causality
Where my misfortunes are
learnt and labelled as
agitations
I observe in the mist of
climates of futility
To embrace my optimism
and not fixate on the deviance
Of the exclusion of normality
Life has suddenly drew a circle
To shut me out
Heretic, rebelled
A thing to flout about
I seek to understand rather
than be understood.
Perpetuating my future
Contemplated my tomorrow
And dismantled my past
To live for now....
Alluring kindness in a gentle, caring gaze,
Altruistic spirit, a beacon in a maze.
Anchor in the storm, a whisper, soft and strong,
As she walks among us, righting every wrong.
Anchored by humility, a beacon ever bright,
Brave spirit, championing justice with gentle might.
Considerate whispers mend a heart that's torn and frayed,
Down-to-earth laughter chases shadows, unafraid.
Empathy's embrace, a refuge warm and wide,
Fiercely compassionate, with burdens she confides.
Grounded in reality, dreams take graceful flight,
Humility, a crown she wears, a gentle, guiding light.
Integrity is her compass, on life's untrodden ways,
Joyful spirit, lighting paths through darkest, stormiest days.
Kindred souls she welcomes, with an open, accepting mind,
Lifting spirits with a touch, a solace they can find.
Modest triumphs whisper tales of battles fought and won,
Nurturing the vulnerable, 'til hope's new day has begun.
Open-minded to all voices, a symphony untold,
Passionate for a better world, a story yet unfolds.
Quiet strength, a steady hand, on life's ever-changing ledge,
Realistic dreams ignite a spark, defying every pledge.
Respectful gaze meets every eye, a bridge across the divide,
Selfless acts, a silent song, with love as her guide.
Tenacious spirit, breaking down the walls of fear,
Unassuming confidence, a whisper, loud and clear.
Vulnerable openness, a tapestry so bright,
Wisdom's gentle whispers guide her through the darkest night.
Yearning for a brighter dawn, her passion burns so true,
Zealous for justice, a warrior bathed in gentle dew.
Zealous for a brighter world, a warrior bathed in light,
Zest for life, a beacon burning ever bright.
Zenith of compassion, a heart forever true,
A song unsung, a tribute just for you.
I start my life out everyday ,Often in the same ol' way,
I eat ,
I smile,
I bathe and crawl back n forth, Some days , I ride my rocking horse,
But nothing prepares for mt goal,
Oh my !! Do hurry I want to roll,
My wheels are the whitest , I have seen,
My spokes are the shinest , Oh how they beam,
I do love summer time,,
My shocks are the raddest, They bounce and they bounce,
My ride is way to cool,
I can't wait till ,I get to school,
I have to check my get and go,
Sometimes, Mom is kinda slow,
I coo and I coddle so she gets some gas,
I really want to get there fast,
My diaper bag packed and ready to go ,
We are the hippest , I want to roll,
We stroll right by the other rides, Mine is the Coolest mom confides,
I bounce and I giggle all the way to play !
OH My , what a wonderful day,!
Always finding the quite of stillness; peaceful waters her, reflections....
Be it here or, perhaps there ? Assembling their higher educational think tanks
Joey bought a condo at Venice while Pamela, drove down from Malibu; her red eye'd
Flights hurry on now, you shan't be late; composed another read through; his puppets
As their strains ? Marching, time it's Piccadilly manifesto; cross'bow ambassadors
Gin and tonic her double agent stewardess, confides ? Marshall Maverick, concealing the ark
Of the covenant; sequestered at Cardinal Bay to be presented his Prince, Beelzeboob's for surety
At Whirlwind Heights for authentication be a declaration; autism avouched of Babylonia's..
Fourteenth century her papacy ? Avignon, canonized at St. Petrarch's, deflowering school and arts ?
Entering now love's air space Tel Aviv'-Jaffa; gallivant's elaboration bubonic's plague; document six sixty
Six with Father Merrin As Regan to witness Historia's, tableau treaty demonic wedding ? Baby Sebastion's
Lucid trans atlantic delusion; vexations wild west Windsor's castle grand patriarch; sovereign jaegers....
Abominations, standing where they ought not be ? Bethlehem's bright morning star their Angels Melchizedek.