Best Contest... Poems
Hello there, do please come inside- no need to wipe your feet
excuse the mess, I fear you'll find it isn't very neat.
This place is always untidy, victim of my disorder
from old hang-ups to memories, I'll admit I am a hoarder.
In here hanging like mobiles, noisy, at odds with my feelings
are life's little distractions, niggling, swinging from the ceiling.
Careful with your torch, don't shine it underneath the bed
beneath it there is lurking a dark sprouting creeping dread.
Most people couldn't live with it, a disturbing thing to some,
as it cowers in the corner from the things still yet to come.
Tread lightly in the corridor, just mind out where you walk
you'll trip on my anxiety that bobs up like a cork.
The fire is stoked, the hearth is swept and logs stacked in a heap
my warmth to all well tended (well, except when I'm asleep).
Cardboard tubes in disarray, and more you cannot see-
plans I drew up in the past, none ever meant to be.
Mannequin in veil of black, arms raised as if to dance
with all my past relationships that never stood a chance.
This rocking chair, my temper, that sometimes I must sit in
and you'll notice that the varnish of my patience has worn thin.
My sense of humour's in the loft, protected by my hats
seemed like the right place for it, since my friends all think I'm bats.
That one small window by the beam lets my faith's light shine in
I'm sorry it's not brighter, window dirty from past sin.
Still, I can climb and open it to aim my telescope
for somewhere in the darkness lies the faintest glimpse of hope
that keeps me living here in peace and shelters me from sad;
you wonder why I live in here? Well, out there-
its just mad!
September16th 2015
For contest 'Inside my head'- sponsor John Lawless
Poetry was her best lover
like no other
he loved her
without restraint
She could be herself
and explore
discovering
secret pleasures and fantasies
Naked above the covers
he let her lie exposed
as he slowly caressed her imagination
making her flow
with the sweet essence of her soul
in waves of creative delirium
Flying free~~~
he let her be
unfettered
unashamed
unworried of how to please
or how to tease
just simply to be
a woman in a prelude
to ecstasy
Poetry was her best lover
her escape from reality
in clandestine intimacy
he ravished her mind
again and again
for all he wanted
was for her
to experience
to taste
every pleasure
he had to offer
Her insatiable appetite
he fed
with firm truths
that burst forth with wisdom
He fed her desire
to reach supremacy
He never betrayed
or delayed
in pleasing her
in giving her just what she wanted
in different ways and forms
his creativity endless
Poetry was her best lover
the only time in her day
when she had her way
and could be free
to be the woman she was meant to be:
Sensual and sultry, sexy and savory
not having to hide
behind the guise
the veil of culture
or religion
or misconstrued sexism
or alibis
being demure
“sterile”
when she was fertile
laden with passion
waiting to be filled
with word seeds of ingenuity
Poetry was her best lover
he adored her as she was
and he gave and gave
at times
leading her in submission to his will
taming her
training her
to live in the confines
of his rules...
For perfection to be reached
she had to follow his lead
to the pinnacle of pleasure
where all was in rhythmic union and rhyme
in the sublime
she was oblivious to time
Ah....sweet release~~~
In the after glow
he wouldn't let her go
but held her safe and secure
basking in the satisfaction
of a fruitful union
serene in the knowledge
that beauty has been conceived
waiting for delivery
Yes, Poetry was her best lover
and she came looking for him
begging him to take her
again and again and again
to transport her to heaven from hell
to compel her to see
what life was meant to be
Poetry was her best lover
and she had no need of another
to help her discover
her own entity….
None other
than her best lover
Poetry....
Eileen Manassian
Blue moon rising
on a stormy night
I sit sobbing
without you
Sadness,
when we fell out of love
The point of no return,
drifting apart
You broke my heart,
my fragile heart
Now you're gone,
I'm missing you
Guess it's over
Tell me why
Whispers on the wind
Words:
disappointment
dejection
disillusioned
rejection
A true tragic tale
heartbreak
loneliness,
sad eyes
a single tear
Reflections
in the moment
precious moments
carry me away...
The scent of your soul
breath of love
shadows from the past
personal memories
After the rain
I will survive
letting go
Spring is coming soon
a new beginning
inner peace
Best Titles Contest
Sponsored by Laura Loo
(Every Line used is the original title of one of my poems)
June 11th 2017
(The Contest)
I once knew a gentle poet boy
Pretending to be the real McCoy
He lost two in a row
This is no game show
At the end, I felt used by the playboy
(The cold rain)
I wish I could take back the HM
Don't know why you chose to condemn
I thought we were friends
Now I see through crystal lens,
How you think all your poems are a top gem
(Not a reason to hate)
I once knew a girl with heavy makeup
Behind her smile, her face was corrupt
She was in it for the race
Wanting all her poems to place
She did not win, now she's all worked up
SKAT
One ice cream sundae
Swirled with whipped cream and a cherry on the top
Sitting temptingly in a tall glass
But you were out of reach
I could see you through the window of the restaurant
Melting away in front of my eyes
Like your life was ebbing away from you
With creamy liquid tears running down the side of the glass
Over time the cherry sank deeper into the velvety fluid
Until it disappeared into the thick goo
It’s blushing red cheek barely visible at the bottom of the goblet ...
ONE fire alarm spoiling one perfect moment
This is a true story – it happened on 5th September!
One contest – Sponsor Rob Carmack
07~09~15
Twice a month on our tiny little Isle
A group of heroes go that extra mile
Wearing protective clothing they clean the beach
Removing vast amounts of rubbish within their reach
Plastic bottles, fast food containers and tins
Items tossed away so thoughtlessly – it’s a sin
So many marine animals can get tangled in discarded plastic
They need our protection, or the results could be very drastic
Hundreds of bin bags of rubbish are removed from our beach
Restoring them to beauty, now they are as pretty as a peach
Volunteers work tirelessly with amazing solidarity
To help ‘Beach Buddies’ which is a registered charity
Contest: Stuff Thomas Martin
10th June 2015
No one wants to be left on the shelf for years
Guess you could say I’ve popped my cork
Now I’m fully mature with a rich full body
I could be described as a little fruity with a hint of spice
Please don’t keep me bottled up
Just give me time to breathe
Contest :- A wine Connoisseur
Sponsor: Chase Trevi
08~14~15
I wrote a poem for a contest
And it got some great comments
I thought it was one of my best
I felt very confident
Soon the contest was judged, the winning list came out
Victory was not in doubt
I scanned the winners list from the middle down
I thought my poem would have placed
But I soon began to frown
My name wasn't there ....It was as if I wasn't even in the race!
Can't win 'em all I guess
No need to stress
But when I went to my inbox and saw "Congrats on your win"
I thought they made a mistake
So I scanned the winners list once more
Then suddenly I stopped...
I was surprised for sure
My name was the first one on top!
To single out special people on soup is such a hard task
So many people have helped me, so it’s a really big ask
I discovered on soup there is an angel without wings
Her name is FJ Thomas and her praises I’ll gladly sing
A month after I joined soup an e-mail appeared
It said I was a ‘Premium Member’ it was so weird
I contacted soup said a mistake has been made
I’m a Premium Member … but I haven’t paid
They said the donor of my gift didn’t wish to be named
But I had no way to thank them, I felt so ashamed
I wrote a thank you poem so that they would know
Someone made it a favourite – but their name didn’t show
I later learned it was FJ Thomas, but by then she’d left the site
I wanted to make her proud of me, so I tried very hard to write
I’d not written a poem for many years,not since I was at school
Began writing when my hubby got cancer – a disease so cruel
Flo’s gift to a complete stranger meant the whole world to me
Writing became my lifeline I hope I’ve used her gift wisely
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Since joining soup I began to collaborate
You really should try it - it really is great
Teamed up with a guy called Darren Watson
His sense of humour was awesome oh boy we had some fun
I was a complete beginner and Darren encouraged me
Telling me how well I wrote and he loved my creativity
We began to collaborate as Jadazzle United
Our friendship blossomed, we were simply delighted
E mails would fly and my self confidence soared
With Darren around there was no time to be bored
My world was shattered when dad was diagnosed with cancer
Darren was there to comfort me, often with a witty answer
Sadly Darren became ill and our writing came to an end
I spent many many weeks trying to trace my lovely friend
Contact was established with his family and after over a year
I got an e mail from Darren, I was overjoyed to hear
Darren’s positivity for the future gave my heart a lift
Our friendship is so precious just like a priceless gift
We’ve both had ups and downs in our lives recently
We're writing together again and we’re as happy as can be
Contest:- Poetry Soup Heroes
Sponsor Catie Lindsey
My Poetry Soup heros
F J Thomas
Darren Watson
A continued state of joy is not solely based on
feelings and emotions.
It is more than a haha or a hee hee; It's much
bigger than that.
Although that kind of happiness/joy is great-
but it's based on circumstance or a situation
that makes one elated.
It’s like happiness spilling over, such as a first
kiss, falling in love, getting married, a child
being born, spending time with loved ones,
or accomplishing something.
Things such as these make one feel good.
However, how can one have a continued state
of joy when all hell breaks out?
Joy is choosing to be content regardless
of the circumstances.
It goes beyond circumstance- it shows up when
chaos is running rampant.
It has hope that things will work out when
things look uncertain.
It is not losing it when bad news arrives.
It can see beyond what is seen and
still, have faith everything will be alright.
A continued state of joy is much more than a
feeling it is a choice.
Inspired by the Joy Continuum contest
02/08/2021
POTD
Placed 5th in Premier Contest
In the twilight's golden glow,
Where the sighing breeze does blow,
A hushed song fills the tranquil air.
A melody that's beyond compare.
The trees sway in a graceful dance.
As the wind weaves its whispered romance,
Leaves rustling in rhythm, so serene,
Nature's orchestra, a living dream, keen.
The moonlight bathes the world in silver.
As stars twinkle, a celestial quiver
"The silent song of the sighing breeze"
Of love and longing across the seas,
Through valleys and mountains, it softly glides,
Bringing solace to hearts that have cried
In the stillness of the night's embrace,
The breeze's song paints a picture of grace.
Whispered melodies, gentle and true,
They speak of love, of hopes anew,
Of dreams that blossom under the moon,
And the promises whispered in lovers' tune.
In every rustle, in every sigh,
The breeze tells stories of days gone by.
Of lovers' kisses under starlit skies,
Of stolen moments and passionate ties.
It carries secrets from distant lands.
Whispered melodies from afar-off sands.
The hushed song of the sighing breeze,
Brings peace and comfort and puts hearts at ease.
*1
Here is the poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1806 - 1861
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
My Response (for the challenge of Mystic Rose)
You love me quite profoundly. That I know
From this sweet poetry I now have read.
So many things are running through my head,
Like how I might with equal measure show
My love for thee as splendidly, but oh!
I stumble with my meager words instead.
My quill runs dry; all eloquence has fled.
I call upon my muse that verse might flow.
My love for thee is beautiful and strong.
With trepidation I confess to thee
Although I never want to do thee wrong,
Can I love as well and as steadfastly?
Please bear with me; one day my words a song
Will be to echo words thou wrote for me!
Written Feb. 20, 2016
The day I truly became an adult – oh I remember it like it was yesterday
The moment I gave birth to you my son – my life changed forever
Nothing can prepare you for the responsibly of having a child
Children are helpless, vulnerable and totally dependent on us
Decisions I made then shaped you into the person you are today
Yes, I made mistakes – I am the first to admit it
But parenthood is a steep learning curve for us all
I tried my best to nurture and guide you - as my parents had with me
Hoping that you wouldn't make the same mistakes I have done
Let you make errors and do things for yourself – it’s the way we grow
Now you have spread your wings and have flown the nest
When times get tough I wish I could revert
Step back in time to the halcyon days of my childhood
But the transition has occurred - I am no longer a child
04~22~15
Contest:- F J Thomas
The true meaning of being an adult
Mum’s
Baking
Pumpkin pie.
Light crisp pastry
Silky smooth topping
Adorned with pastry leaves
Topped with swirls of white whipped cream.
I start drooling; it’s so tempting
Our spoons are poised ready to tuck in
Oh how I adore autumn harvest time!
For love of October Contest
Sponsor – Andrea Dietrich
09~23~15
Engelbert Effleflump put on his disguise
Climbed in his orcetector and rose in the skies
For his mum hated flying and must never know
That Engelbert’s job was in an aerial show
Poor Engelbert hated deceiving his mother
He’d go out of the house under cloud cover
He’d loop the loop in pink polka dot skies
Twirling in his orcetector each time he flies
Over mountains of candy and lollipop trees
Floating on green clouds and lemonade seas
Only children knew his secret, they’d point with delight
Look there goes Engelbert - he’ll be home by midnight!
But disaster happened on one foggy day
Poor Engelbert crashed at a flying display
He was not badly injured - only his pride
But how could he tell his mother he’d lied
Unable to continue flying he told his mum of his work
When she discovered his secret life, she went BERSERK
She shook her gold furry arms high in the air
Now confined to his room Engelbert did despair
Engelbert begged and he pleaded, but she wouldn’t listen
Tears formed in his orange eyes, oh how they did glisten
That night he decided that he must simply be free
Couldn’t live with his mother – how they did disagree
Next morning he munched on his wigglerly grub
Drank his foaming juice from the chocberry shrub
He announced to his mother that he had a plan
We would get a new job, become a delivery man
Engelbert moved into a chocolate house
He lives there with his purple pet mouse
His new job lets him work at his own pace
Delivering dreams to Effleflumps in outer space
* an orcetector is a word that was made up by the little girl I used to be a private nanny to - she was just 2 years old and she couldn't say helicopter.
Contest:- Children’s story Dr Seuss Style
Sponsor:- Casarah Nance
~awarded 4th place~
08~21~15