Best Contagiously Poems
An angel smiled at me today,
I almost passed her by.
A tiny little slip-of-a-thing, swallowed by an oversized coat,
Face hidden by wind-tossed hair.
I wasn't thinking of whose she was,
Only that I was running late, vaguely annoyed at "whatever".
Unaware of passing lives also trapped in their own isolations.
Then I heard her laugh, freely, contagiously, the way I used to.
Fleeting resentment passed through my mind,
That I'd noticed. That I wanted to stop.
For a brief moment I was reminded of summer days, of climbing trees
And skinned knees.
Running through sprinklers and warm seas.
Memories made me stop and turn...
There she was.
Not more than six. Slipping between people who took no notice,
As if she was the mailbox on the corner.
Caught in her own sidewalk world of make-believe.
Chasing an unseen rainbow... and then she caught me watching.
Undisturbed, her face burst into a happy grin as laughter bubbled forth,
Her eyes glowing like Christmas morning.
Pushing the hair away that would not stay still, pausing in her solitary game.
That single moment when we took each other in seemed like lifetimes.
Something inside me quietly burst free.
I continued on my way, but the day seemed brighter.
Nothing had outwardly changed; I was still late, but I had the curious urge to skip to the corner;
To roll down a grassy hill and play hide and seek.
At the corner I turned just to see if she was still there,
To send her a silent thanks.
As if she heard, she turned... and an angel smiled at me, again.
American Nero,
showering utter disdain —
Denigration downpour on pleb citizens
begging for pandemic crumbs
As the pestilent fire rages around
your virally tainted kingdom
Ghastly gladly,
you keep on fiddling
acid text madly
Dripping hateful words that burn
deep into the bipolar soul
of a divided nation
An enamel disrobed toga ethos
reveal naked desires
Sparking flames of cold pathos
American Nero,
a contemptible paper reign
is exit poll falling
Whilst the fire of pox chaos
contagiously spread
with spittle accelerant ease
This scorching hoax
raze any flagging, publican hope
Truth unmasked
do singe that gallows rumor rope
Fiery breath fiddler
kindling fear,
high up on that Ivory Tower roof
Tearfully playing the ill-fated fool madly,
as graven torch idolatry
lay fallow ‘neath ash liberty truth
Power Point Presentation on Meditation was underway
Eyes, ears glued to central points, narrative was on
Suddenly someone sneezed, concentration frittered away
Missed the Point, presentor thought, yet went on
Came in pointless sorry, presentation went ahead
Breathing Techniques discussed, right postures shown
Suddenly someone farted, all noses squeezed
Pointless, presentor thought, yet went on
Freshner sprayed, presentation commenced shortly
Chakaras* highlighted, high points of each focussed on
Suddenly someone yawned, rest yawned contagiously
Beyond the Point, presentor thought, yet went on
Tea break, visiting cards exchanged, presentation resumed
Practicals ensued, all called on stage one by one
Suddenly someone trying meditation snored, all bemused
No Point, presentor thought, yet went on
Meditation Presentation ended with understanding fair
All liked, vowed to religiously include in routine all lesson
Suddenly someone recalled he had `Amnesia'** during seminar
What's the Point, presentor thought, wrapped up presentation
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(*) Chakaras -Eastern Tradition believes that Life force passes through
seven primary CHAKRAS (points symbolised by BodyPart),
each Chakra representing unique physical and psychic energy.
(**)Amnesia - Partial or total loss of memory
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8th Place - Members Contest - What's the Point by Paula Swanson)
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Marked by “Rejoice in the Lord always*” aim
exuberance is purposeful delight
mirth exuding earnest gratitude flame
contagiously oozing with blissful light
enabling others for glad smile aright…
Joy bubbles rippling hearty laughter-glow
in sharing kindness as blessings do flow
toward jovial soul’s triumphant reign
midst worship against hypocrisy-show
blissfully praising God for blessed gain.
*Philippians 4:4 Rejoice in the Lord alway: and again I say, Rejoice.
November 11, 2021
1st place, "A STRAND (1050)" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 1/13/2022.
Why is it
those who reside in mental hospitals
find themselves struggling to remember
This is supposed to be a hospital,
and not a prison for society’s revenge?
Why is it
those who find themselves imprisoned
struggle to remind themselves
and each other
this is supposed to be a prison,
and not an insanely vengeful mental hospital?
Why is it
bondage breeds violence
as freedom feeds cooperative democracy,
mutual empowerment?
Why is it
defending capital-hoarding elites
breeds criminalization and militarization,
while freeing human natures
to embrace all Earth’s nature-spirits
feeds ecological democracy
to polypathically grow,
contagiously expand in joy
and wonder
and mutual awe?
GASP OF AIR
Death claims all the Victory
In this life given to me.
It owns the very parts of Me
Which mingled with One’s chemistry
To build a brand new entity,
Just to have him ripped from me.
Who was the enemy?
My own womb, specifically
Betrayed us all, ejecting
This tiny piece of Humanity.
Scrap to you? Not to me.
I still ache longingly
To nurse and cradle this piece to me.
Twenty years and constant suffering,
More Death than Life, if you ask me,
Since my three children’s lives
Were deemed by Someone “Not to Be,”
And Mother never made of me.
What rules for such a Tragedy?
No One knew, apparently.
All Baby Bumps avoided me,
As if my “inability To carry”
An unspeakable disease,
Passed contagiously.
Alone, I bear their Memories;
Always My Responsibility.
Now I’ve become too fatigued
To honor them effectively;
They only Live in Memory.
I’m not too proud to beg your sympathy.
I’ll even make this plea upon my knees:
Would you be willing,
Momentarily,
To hold MY children in YOUR hearts
So I can breathe?
With no anger and no remorse,
I have this to remind to me
That time is past its prime for me
From what I was years ago
To what I have become,
A mid-age who has lost his all
As have spiraled down the stocks
The stairway into the junkyard
Leaving him as his sole tangible
And his newfound fixation -
A two-horsepower car.
He faced an unsure future
As the necklace of toxic thorns
That the run-down portal
To his fortune wore,
Had put to swoon his laughter,
So spontaneous in its noise
And yet so contagiously jovial,
That had enabled him
To patronize clients
At his whims and fancies.
Unfit to navigate through life
A revelation struck him
One day like a fright
In the ravaged heartland
Of his famished self-esteem
That he had not cultivated for long,
Revealing the steeled contours
Of an enigmatic intrigue
That had the chance to reverse
The direction of his fortunes.
A victim of hard times,
It was hard for him to opine
If the plot cosmic
Rained sanity or insanity.
Yet, anticipating a new start
A smile basked his face
As he slumbered peacefully
Looking heavenward,
An image etched forever
In his stockbrokers' hearts.
Special child’s bubbly laughter of pure mirth
as he praises God* in sign language cheer
ripples contagiously midst priceless worth
fulfilling daily tasks with wheel chair gear.
*Luke 19:37 … Rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen.
Quatrain with ABAB rhyme scheme
July 23, 2021
2nd place, "Flair and Fun Quatrain Contest"
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger; judged on 8/18/2021.
OUTRAGEOUSLY INSPIRING
from cover to cover
breath-taking
each page sets a stage
outstanding
together we travel
voyages of creations
interpretations
through
illustrations
painting words
through
brushed strokes of
inscriptions
our canvas conversing
where visions entwine
across space and time
splendidly humbling
grand and sublime
poetry set in motion
by
desire and emotion
artistic attributes
from
fires of devotion
fantasy and fiction
fuse
finesse with diction
contagiously inviting
outrageously inspiring
a poetess
and her
playful
protagonist
© Kim van Breda
Fistful butterflies sway along with the wind.
Ever frolicking through the vibrant desires.
Fistful sand slipping down in haste.
Unbothered about the delays and tussles around.
Fistful days flipping over.
Highlighting every single day.
Fistful memories binding themselves together.
Creating a most treasured treatise.
Fistful wishes probable, contingent or disguise.
Forever igniting the coal inside.
Fistful choices through the passable maze.
Attempt to escape but no respite.
Fistful thoughts sparkling out of palpitating chords.
Capable of entangling entire life.
Fistful learning running through the veins.
Enabling sturdy stature to prevent the derail.
Fistful steps towards the embarkation.
Creating a journey that travels through the stars.
Fistful smiles fluttering around in joy.
Contagiously sorting out the difficulties and sorrow.
Fistful opportunities that emanate from hard work.
Enough to be the cynosure through the rise.
Fistful always lets the phoenix rise.
Every creation is a conscious choice.
Fistful time .....may what....may I write!
3min Write' Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Matt Caliri
Dated: 16.09.2024
You asked us not to cry when you have passed on
But we do not need handkerchiefs we need storm water drains
May the flash floods of tears irrigate your memory and wishes
To dance on your grave and be happy was your final request
When the funeral director has gone home to his family
We will respect your rebellion and turn over the soil
‘I expect you to wear happy clothes tie dye home-made batik
Hippie gowns and torn jeans covered in ink with messages
Not for the dead but for the living who gather in full colours’
As we write our final farewells onto the cardboard box
You designed for your coffin with crayons finger paint and
The mud of the earth you smile contagiously from inside
‘One flower only per person but you must bring worms
A few butterflies a handful of moths and a couple of rodents
Crack open the container that holds my remains for I must breathe’
It is midnight and a full moon invites kind witches and spells
Of Karma on broom sticks and a bonfire of faithful disbelief
Fireworks are in order because Tom likes to go out with a bang
We sing Hallelujahs ‘Bat out of Hell’ and ‘Stairway to Heaven’
‘Born to be Wild’ ‘Wish you were Here’ ‘Bridge over troubled waters’
Remember that voices aren't mute when they’re encouraged to speak
Sandalwood incense mixes with smell of roasted chestnuts and
Fig jam to honour the Buddha and pink lemonade for chakras
To caress emotional reason as we hand over your torch
‘Adults must play with Lego please’ you decreed ‘Life is a building’
‘Find me a unicorn and fix stick on tattoos of impermanent shine’
‘Adorn you skin with jester’s wisdom and henna or heart blood’
Now that we bid good fortune to the future we will light paper lanterns
Watch the wax melt slowly and the sun to rise for your final departure
We know that you will turn to compost but will watch over our lives
23rd June 2019
A completely non religious write, I think!
The universe is nothing yet everything, inward then outwardly led
has tried every configuration possible, peanuts to stellar nursery beds
Mixing this and that together, now it's growing inside our heads
Bringing conscious thoughts to light, through our blood it spreads
Perhaps a self centred entity, trying to comprehend from where it came
Using every calculation ever made, from Confucius to murderous Cain
Loves human ingenuity, though indiscriminate to the healthy and lame
Lets everything run its course, including nazism and crack cocaine
So what's the ultimate purpose, I mean time's always on its side,
Expand forever, test every combination that human life provides
Hanging around going nowhere, indifferent to watching us die
Refusing to interact for a second, as we contagiously laugh and cry
Well it's not good enough I'm afraid, to experiment at any price
Allowing us to breed like rabbits, or are we your laboratory mice
Chaos here, randomness there, fancy our chances, roll the dice
Some gorge on filet mignon, others cannot afford a bowl of rice
So the million dollar question I'm asking, everyone wants to know
Are you listening universe, or is some god actually running the show
Putting 2 and 2 together, is not beyond where my mind can go
Answer's simple, but you constantly move the goalposts as I grow
(Universe replies)
Oh ye of little faith, (jesting) intelligent beings are in times of trial
You've been looking for meaning, before my pharaohs ruled the Nile
The truth is, there's none today, but that will all change in a little while
Hang on in there, we're almost home, it's going to end in some style
By
David Kavanagh
Possessing pure skepticism
allows me
to carry an air of longevity
Having to breathe in
false utterances,
the words of mendacious men
I could never trust
If you be at the opposite end
on the thought spectrum
of visible dust
Then persuade yourself
if you must
That everything is peachy keen;
because an oval echo,
from a yellow enamel orifice,
placebo grin said so
Keep pulse listening
to the dunce reverberations
that smarmy gloat
Si, I do verily distrust that locust sound
every grimy vocal whit
As the green devouring wheeze abound,
grim reaper facts exist
So, Covid yourself
if you must
That none of the dying coughing is truly real,
because an ivory pair of coffin eyes
opaque hide behind a green curtain shade ill
There’s 19 different wavy versions:
Flagellated ear-rant vials of vapor duplicity
Inhale the infectious bah humbug,
give a callous shrug with an air of morbidity
Convince yourself
to believe a lie
of paper sawdust,
if you must
As for me,
the leper words of lecherous men,
I will always
contagiously distrust
You're the definition of
beauty through which I
could only dream. The
beams from your eyes
contagiously infect me
senselessly and through
the expressions of how
you love me defines your
truest beauty.
The cores of your soul
suits and the structure
and design of your body
perfectly compliments
me. Through your mind,
you forever know me
and through patiences
and love, you forever
please, thats shows me
you clearly,
Beautiful one you inspire
me and through your love
I express me truly and
easily. You're far more
than my inspiration, you're
my heart's resurrection,
a temptation that reveal
my inner most passion.
Beauty describe you, my
words just help me to
forever define you.
Allow my pen to expose mind’s folly
in the meantime, silly poetically
as I narrate of fictitious Xilly
whose pastime is cheering hilariously
while pondering meditatively
on natural phenomenon deeply
striving to explain them celestially
respecting facts scientifically
defying not Scriptures she trusts dearly
by her perspective, expressed wholesomely.
She claims that angels play bowling gaily
when thunders burst, roaring boisterously…
Oh, for lightnings that blaze tremendously
saints are having pictorial candidly…
See the sky as spacious canvas clearly
spirits present their sketches abstractly…
As rainbows reappear radiantly
color wheel spells R O Y G B I V completely…
Amidst rains that are falling ceaselessly
heaven’s gardens are watered lavishly…
On meteor showers beheld wondrously
cherub and seraph broke stars playfully…
Fret not for eclipse momentarily
since moon and sun meet on-line actually…
Now, check this info she’s shared currently
dealing with climate change accordingly…
Volcanoes do erupt frantically
spewing sulfuric ash obnoxiously…
Such awful smell comes from farts in hell’s belly
thus, masks and face shields must be worn daily…
Xilly’s news is trending contagiously
though fake, its humour ripples truthfully.
*Proverbs 15:21 Folly is joy to him that is destitute of wisdom: but a man of understanding walketh uprightly.
September 25, 2021
10th place, "Fart-tastic" Silly Poem Writing Premier Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke; judged on 9/27/2021.