Best Connor Poems
You dear are my fascination
Exceeding my expectation
Thrilling me making my heart race
There’s something in the way you move
I love how you sway to my groove
With every step you match my pace
Waltz, rumba, salsa or tango
More delicious than a mango
Sexy wearing leather or lace
My fingers explore every line
More intoxicating than wine
The allure began with the chase
Yes it’s true you played hard to get
Not looking at me when we met
I was enamoured by your style
Your easy understated way
Tapping as the music would play
and a subtle hint of a smile
Eventually you took my hand
Moving to the sound of the band
Breathtaking moments last a while
In my arms you are meant to be
Being with you makes me feel free
floating above the earth a mile
your movement is a form of art
Everything is more colourful
since you tangoed into my heart
Written May 12th 2018. For Connor Lott’s Hutinashrow poetry contest. Challenging but fun. I hope I got it right.
Categories:
connor, dance, romance,
Form:
Rhyme
A continuation of The World Above Me, a special collaberation between myself and my good friend Justin Connor
8/17/12
------------------------------------------------------------------
The shelter opens its door to the world above me
Never have I seen so much destruction
My eyes get used to the brightness,
An unwanted tear trickling down my cheek
But once they are accustomed to the light,
I want to close them again
I feel the urge to turn back
But they push me forward,
Whispering low, consoling words
I look around to see what humanity used to be
Before the devastation
And I marvel at what the old world used to be
But one question remains:
Why did people destroy their lives,
And end the world we used to know?
I walk my feet on the unknown terrain
Ruins. . .debris. . .the air placid and still
All around is rubbish
My mother whispers a prayer from behind
And then I wonder. . .
If God was ever here
As I look around I notice a book
Lying there, upon the ashy wreckage
I pick it up and read. . .
It details a nation’s fight for freedom
A large statue of a man is in the building I stand by
I stare at the brazen figure in awe
The features are crumbling but here it still stands
Watching over its obliterated land
I squeeze the book in my hand
His eyes show loyalty and courage
No sadness—not even a speck of fear
Looking more outwards I see a tall structure
And past that a building with a large dome
The architecture of the old world amazes me
What wonders men have done—could have done
If they hadn’t let each other come undone
In violence and death
Yet still I wonder how these incredible buildings
Could possibly remain after all that has happened
Like the buildings, we have survived
And hopefully, through lessons learned,
We can thrive
My father tells everyone to clear away the ruins
People even use old machines with cranes
The old world is gone
But from the ashes we can start anew
We were in the shelter for the good of humanity
And now, because of us,
There is hope
Categories:
connor, angst, confusion, depression, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse
Just because we wish it so, means not that it will pass;
this lesson’s one we all must learn in the Gamecock class.
Runs my blood, it’s red and black---garnet the deepest hue,
any orange is anathema, do not this misconstrue.
They always fought with all their heart, especially on game day,
ran out to strains two thousand one, sandstorm on white display,
from first kickoff to last tackle, they’d hit with abandon,
they feared no foe, this fact is true, but seldom champion.
Football saints are lively here, from Rogers to Norwood,
When Lattimore took the field, we always felt they could,
defeat all squads, from Florida to the great North land,
and many others in between, I’m sure you understand.
Jadeveon polished our fame, no one could say “Who dat?,”
he pulverized a Wolverine, and handed Smith his hat.
Sidney Rice and Sterling Sharpe could surely catch that ball,
while Alshon and McKinley too, flew often past them all.
Sheldon Brown and John Abraham were known to give a lick,
while Swearinger and Gilmore too, could make a tackle stick.
Ryan Brewer bowled them over, while Succop split the posts,
Connor Shaw and Phil Petty racked up the winning boasts.
So many more graced our field, their names are not forgot,
Wharton and Boyd, Culliver and Ellis, and even A. Pinnock.
Munnerlyn, DiMarco too, and who could forget Ace Sanders?
Ajiboye and Cunningham, were not gridiron outlanders.
Kalimba, Ko, Dunta and Zola, we’ve surely had strange names,
But on the field they won our hearts, and more than a few games.
Faison to Watson, and all others, who flashed their spurs with pride,
we celebrate each footballer who’s graced the Gamecock side!
Categories:
connor, football, sports,
Form:
Rhyme
Headlines of irony in life…
Human satire—cuts like a knife.
The unsinkable ship, that sinks.
Surrounded by peeps, yet alone.
Priests who ‘prey’—yet sins they atone.
Pastor fights alcohol, but drinks.
Tax czar who cheats on his taxes.
Animal fans—hunt to relax.
Abortion kills—with nods and winks.
Lifeguard fearing water—lauds land.
‘Football’—a game played with the hands.
Oedipus—breaks riddle and Sphinx.
Headlines of irony in life...
“Women”—they may now take a wife.
The steakhouse owned by a vegan.
Pedophile daycare directors.
Homeless real estate inspectors.
WAR—‘politics’ by other means.
Fighting drugs, while promoting booze.
Mutual consent—the new ruse.
Prolonged charity squelches teens.
Green tinted speckles on bluefish.
Hitler’s Grandfather was Jewish!
Men—affectionately called ‘queens.’
In life, every nook and cranny,
Holds the next ‘headline irony.’
Good, bad, or sad—it’s Uncanny!
June 2, 2018
Written for Connor Lotts' poetry contest entitled, "Hutinashro - My First Contest Poetry Contest"
Categories:
connor, analogy, humor, hyperbole, irony,
Form:
Rhyme
Ding dong
Mom, there's a big kid
in a Terminator costume at the door
He asked does Sarah Connor live here
I played along with the joke, and said: Yeah, sure
I told him I like his costume,
and I really liked his gun
He said, "Hasta la vista, baby
But I'll be back, John"
You must have really scared him, mom
Coming out of the kitchen with a butcher knife,
looking like the Bride of Frankenstein
You really ought to stop it, mom
Because the kids on Halloween,
won't come trick-or-treating here next time
Categories:
connor, horror, humor, humorous, satire,
Form:
Light Verse
It popped
in as if to say
hello
my birdie buddy all sweet and
mellow
Dressed in a downy gold gown
of yellow
I tried to cheep in tune, join its
song to say
'welcome my chirping lil fellow
Oh my it sang then like a
feathered cello!
So Soupers hi and hello
and twitter tweet tweet
May you find this short 'n'
sweet sweet
This was about my winged
guest of honor
What shall I call her, Eileen O'
Connor?
It's birdsong is my very favourite music
Nature 's natural melodies so harmonic
(contest, 'sweetest touches of verse)
Categories:
connor, bird,
Form:
Rhyme
**This is a special set of poetry written with my friend Justin Connor--we each wrote separate accounts of special companions. The ending verse we wrote together. These poems are meant to be one piece of work. **
Scarcely a year old, I remember with sad, sinking heart
But then I smile, because I remember all the good times
It was the night of Pentecost, our little kitten was found
My mother, happy to bring in the oddest of pets,
Curled her fingers around a small kitten, beaming
And there was sunlight in all eyes all the night
He had been crying in the bushes for a place to stay
And he had found one…it might have been destiny
There was something in his green eyes that dazzled me
Weakening and strengthening my heart all in one I held him in my arms,
A special cat on a special day
Pentecost is his name, and it is here he will remain
I remember everyone loved him because of his grace
That dreamy eye and soft-hearted face
I remember the first night and many more nights to come
I turned my music box, opened it up and sang him a song
He listened intently and soon was fast asleep
His small colorful multi-marked body breathing deeply
His tiny, white boot legs tucked under his chest
“You’re the best, Pentecost,” I whispered. “You’re the best…”
Even my father, who was never fond of cats,
Was won over by his embraceable charms
Pentecost would spawn an effort to make him smile
Stretching out on the floor making sure everyone was watching
Listening lovingly to my dad’s favorite classical repertoire..
He would ring around our ankles with his paws playfully
Causing us to scream in shock and skip away
He would jump back from the shriek making us laugh up a storm
And look up at all the noise curiously
Pentecost also liked small boxes to squeeze into
I would lift up a cardboard flap to see a whiskered jewel
And he would look up at us and wonder
Can we make room for two?
He favored no one and was friendly with all
Long and muscular, this cat had boundless energy
One point he’d be at the window
And the next in the laundry, his tail whipping
What I will never forget was how happy he would lay in the grass
I would watch him and pet him, the sun hitting his fur
Gray black stripes and swirls of art lighting all at once
His soft, sensitive ears rubbing against my arm
The affection was mutual as Destiny knew
Categories:
connor, absence, angst, animal, beauty,
Form:
Ode
Everywhere I go, industry dominates this world
Vehicles run on diesel,
Massive industrial complexes have many factories
That create a skyline of smokestacks
The heavens are filled with a gray only we have created
Man and machine have come together
Like haywire to wire,
Generating a power countries only dream of
Diesel, our main power source,
Allows massive airships with smokestacks of their own
To block out the sun
Nations around the world use machines for industry, war and everyday life
Without diesel,
It seems the planet will come to a complete standstill…
As an inhabitant of this industrialized world,
None of what I see around surprises me…
For I have lived in the midst of man’s mechanical reign
All of my days
But I often worry and question our remaining humanity
Some of us have grown prideful and cold
Nations have fought us
Merely to prove their weapons are stronger and better
At times I even wonder if we could
Possibly find other ways to go about our lives—
Like alternative fuel sources
Maybe it seems like the world is industrializing too fast
But no one seems to notice that after the Great War,
Industry spread like a weed that would not stop growing,
No matter what you did to it
One must begin to wonder
How long this kind of life can possibly last
I long to feel the sun on my back,
And to breathe in fresh air untouched by the fumes I know too well
Can we use what we have,
Can we use what we live for,
To build each other up,
Rather than destroying all in our path?
Shall we put our hearts into the cores of our unfeeling machines,
Or will we turn to Mother Earth with reverence and passion?
Taking and never giving back,
How can we expect our planet to provide and sustain us?
August 20th, 2014
Collaberation by Justin Connor and Laura Breidenthal
Two questions to ponder:
What do you think will become of this dieselpunk world?
How can this message apply to life in your own society?
Categories:
connor, appreciation, character, courage, growth,
Form:
Narrative
Connor Constrictor
crept through the carpet.
Marianne Marmot
marched through the market
singing, “Hi hey hi hey hi hey ho!”
Boys and girls join in singing,
“Hi hey hi hey hi hey ho!”
Tutu Toucan
turned to and fro
while Wally Walrus
watched in slow mo.
Singing, “Hi hey hi hey hi hey ho!”
Boys and girls join in singing,
“Hi hey hi hey hi hey ho!”
Kami Chameleon
chewed a crumpet
and Tommy Tortoise
tuned up his trumpet
playing, “Hi hey hi hey hi hey ho!”
Boys and girls join in singing,
“Hi hey hi hey hi hey ho!”
All the animals
clamored for more,
more of the funny
musical score
singing, “Hi hey hi hey hi hey ho!”
Boys and girls join in singing,
“Hi hey hi hey hi hey ho!”
Categories:
connor, animal, children, fun, funny,
Form:
Alliteration
It's been almost ten years to December 2002 since Laci Rocha-Peterson and her unborn son were killed by her loser husband, Scott Peterson. This case has haunted the lives of all of the citizens of a California town called Modesto; just outside of San Francisco. It seems that Laci's life was ended permanently too soon, especially when she had planned on giving birth to Scott's first born son, Connor. Both of her parents (her mom and step-dad) were angry, her brother was also angry and dismayed, the people were shocked and disgusted, and so on. Scott Peterson was afraid to be a father, that he never wanted to spend the rest of his so-called "life" with his late wife, and, on top of all that, Mr. Peterson was also afraid that his late wife, Laci, would find about his love affair with another woman named Amber Frey, so he killed her as a cowardly act. Laci Rocha-Peterson and her first born son really didn't deserve to die by the hands of her own husband, their own flesh and blood. She and her son had a whole life ahead of them, especially when her son, Connor, was about to begin the first day of school and stuff. But now that baby Connor and her mother are not on planet Earth and in heaven now, their family members, especially her parents and his grandparents, are still in a depressive mode. What kind of human being would want to dump his or her spouse in a body of water, let alone the San Francisco Bay? Who does that? The media, including the CBS Network, Nancy Grace, and the San Francisco Post were all over the Laci Peterson case, especially when everybody knew that Scott Peterson Selfishly killed his own wife and unborn son. What a coward he is and/or was. Scott may have had all of the ones he loved fooled, but when he walks into the death chamber and is executed by lethal injection, God will decide his punishment. And when He does, Scott Peterson will pay for what he did to his wife and own son, his own flesh and blood. The spirits of Laci Rocha-Peterson and her son will live on in their relatives' lives and through the hearts of the ones who knew her. May she and her son rest in peace.
Categories:
connor, anniversary, death, funeral, husband,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
Exotic perfumes opulent
Hibiscus and jasmine sentient
Charming flute and sitar entice
Indian chants undulating
Heads pivoting eyes inviting
Warm smiles reminiscent of spice
Voices that throw you in a trance
In a most voluptuous dance
Timing of twirling so precise
Long black waves of ebony hair
Swaying through the sumptuous air
Sweet frangipanis caressed thrice
Exotic perfumes opulent
Most seductive graceful movement
Colorful sari paradise
Hand caresses so alluring
Romantic moves hypnotizing
Expressive beguiling eyes slice
Through melodic extravagance
Beckoning magic’s elegance
Playing on heart strings that suffice
Such flair as spry as pure prayer
Let your soul embark if you dare
Swirls of sensuous bounty twice
Hibiscus and jasmine sentient
Charming flute and sitar entice
Exotic perfumes opulent
Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~NAMASTE~ 2020
AP: 3rd place 2020, Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on April 29, 2020 for contest STRAND PICK H sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 3RD
on January 31, 2019 for contest 2019 POETRY MARATHON MILE 14 sponsored by MARK TONEY
and May 30, 2018 for contest HUTINASHRO sponsored by CONNOR LOTTS
Categories:
connor, dance, flower, music, romantic,
Form:
Rhyme
-Another collab with Justin Connor-
The long struggle is over
We fought hard,
And now we have brought the birth of a new nation
Where freedom reigns and lifts our spirits high
We have shown the world
That we do not need to be ruled by a tyrant far away
That it is possible to be free from tyranny
That we can successfully fight away a most powerful country
Free from monarchal upheaval
And greedy hearts of powerful men
To branch off on our own
To establish our own government
A united nation!
Strictly representing the people
Not even the large debts from the war
Can destroy our new, unified spirit
Nothing can destroy the ensuring joy
Of being alive and free
Always standing
Democracy is part of our life
Freedom reigns!
Because we have fought and died on this land,
We have earned the right to be free
And our brothers who have perished in honor for this blessing,
Who have fought with all of their might till death,
Our most brave brothers,
Will be looking down on us with pride
And stories of peace and freedom shall ease the minds of the injured
Our stories will last for generations to come
Many shall write books of our courage
And poetry about our enduring freedom
Our independence has been achieved
We are the land of the free
And the home of the brave!
Categories:
connor, adventure, history, uplifting, war,
Form:
Free verse
A smile worn,
with a heart torn-
Fought at ground zero,
he is my hero.
He was a simple man with simple pleasures and needs,
he had so much to give, a life full of infinite possibilities-
So, he decided to branch off and go plant his own seed,
worked hard in boot camp and joined the military.
Iraq was just a destination and soon became his home,
he struggled with seeing destruction and death-
Every other night he called his wife on the phone,
but his four years was up and he could finally take a breath.
He longed for more, so a fire fighter he trained to be,
thirty-six hour shifts now with a family to uphold-
New York became his new home instead of the military,
but soon his fate would be a story to be told.
Airplanes flying through the strong Twin Towers,
but no steel could prevent such annihilation-
The fire engine drove fast through the smoke showers,
and would soon be a part of the complete devastation.
My cousin died for his country, and lived with honor,
they never found his body through all the desolation-
There will never be another man like respectable Connor,
a strong hero to me…oh, what a beautiful creation.
April 25, 2017
Categories:
connor, hero, soldier, war,
Form:
Quatrain
Love List
This is my love list
Joey was my wife
She is gone and very much missed
My daughter Barbara was our first one
Then came my son James
My daughter Patricia the third one
Grandchildren are Megan and Alexandra
Boys are Nickolas and Connor
Back to girls Jacquelyn and Samantha
My kids in law I almost missed
Robert, Christopher and Suzanna
And my dog finished the list
Categories:
connor, lovedaughter, daughter,
Form:
Terminator X
A cloud burst into life and rained down acid rain;
The skin peeled from the bodies of those who couldn’t be saved.
The future termination just waiting to send us to our graves,
Means our destiny is already written and we cannot be saved.
So call on Arnie to save or ruin the day,
Here he comes in a rush to redeem or bring rage.
Is he good, is he bad? Let’s write another sequel,
Because we can’t get enough of this cyborg killing people.
Terminator 1, Sarah Connor is forced to face death head on.
This Terminator X is going to rip somebody’s face off
And Terminator 2 saw Arnie as a Hero,
For John Connor likes Guns ‘n’ Roses, look out here comes a truck.
Terminator 3 the machines are on the rise again,
The future is shown to us; it looks like humans live in pain.
We are obsolete; the robots now rule the entire world.
So let’s rebel and give ‘em Hell, one of John acolytes is a hot girl.
So stab your blade shaped arm through a chest
And hope you find the right Sarah Connor.
Dead bodies litter the doorsteps of random nests;
You know he won’t stop until he finds her.
Get Arnie some new clothes to cover his nakedness,
Use nitrogen oxide to put an end to this X-file government,
Conspiracy of robots, they are here to end our lives;
So crush their body and throw this terminator into the fire.
(C)2011 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Categories:
connor, future, humanity, men, technology,
Form: