Best Contingent Poems
~ The voice of loneliness - is barely audible ~ Quote by poet
Terribly curved
loneliness embraced her
The clouds hovered darkly over the valley
Grief, pain and tear drops got mixed
and circulate through each vein
in her trembling body
as lightning from angry clouds
She had never felt more alone
as pushed down into a bottomless pit
Thoughts was constantly changing
her grief in the loneliness could not fade
Finally in the newborn rhythm of spring
and the color splendor of silence
two people meet
Sweet music arose
one romantic ballad
The sunlight enveloped the earth they walked on
as under foreign skies
Her messenger
and most marvelous deed,
had angel wings
Wisdom unites the lost and the sad
Together they felt the harmony of life
in contingent release
13.03.2023
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
- 'L' Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
1st place in the contest
I’ve been bruised and b a t t e r e d
all over this forsaken town,
there’s one thing for sure,
NOTHING IS GOING TO DRAG ME DOWN.
When the darkness prevailed
and the obscurity arrived,
is when I’d never been more
g r a t e f u l to be alive.
I shivered in regret and
remorse called my name,
I thought my life would end
and never be the same.
I was left out to dry in the rain
last these last seven years,
things that brought s o r r o w,
blame and tears.
The grim and dreary days
raced through me like a ghost,
but the l i g h t shined through
me when I needed it most.
I forgave myself and forgot
all my wrongful sins,
and found the majesty of f a i t h
hidden deep within.
I was conflicted and addicted
to shame and torment,
now I see the g o o d,
all the fear is dormant.
Freedom has called my name
and I’m no longer chained,
for I have found r e d e m p t i o n
as the darkness has refrained.
My happiness is contingent
upon my c o m p a s s i o n and hope,
nothing will ever get in the
way of me trying to cope.
The Lord has been my
light and my s a l v a t i o n,
and now I am grateful for
my life’s great creation.
My laughter has replaced
that awful dreaded frown---
I v o w e d to myself…
NOTHING IS EVER GOING TO DRAG ME DOWN!
Never Going to Drag Me Down Contest
October 15, 2017
United Colours: Orange
Sponsor: Silent One
Pathological agreements made from your spicy allegations,
neurotic contributions based on a fire lit from clay,
all the inescapable state of affairs from intimidating celebrations
my amber ways, your mania stays, controlling on display.
Your jealousy contingent upon my belated positive actions,
my fear portrayed from your rusted all-consuming conditions,
you've torn my ability to react in sanity, that's only a fraction,
I'm left like a prey from a tiger meal, a life full of constriction.
Burnt fanatic beliefs you have seen me as your property,
your bronze so metallic it shines through out the universe,
I need an escape from your unrighteous crowned monarchy,
you never knew how to treat me right, and put me first.
It has been stated from the fellowship I carry outside you,
I deserve fields of marigolds with apricots for dessert,
I made myself a promise to stay away, now we are through,
no more bittersweet memories, I am done being hurt.
Different shades of orange:
1. Fire 2. Clay 3. Amber 4. Rust 5. Tiger 6. Bronze 7. Metallic
8. Marigolds 9. Apricots 10. Bittersweet 11. Spice 12. Burnt
~Date Written: March 4, 2016~
I am here on an archaeological quest,
to satisfy many a curious mind's request
for knowledge on antiques and artifacts
of Egypt's long extinct historical facts,
in treasured sands buried, like gold mines earnestly
sought for in stories shrouded in mythology.
With a large contingent just as curious as I,
hardly daunted by curses, but with shoulders high,
we went to the field, the sun baking us chaps
to a baker's delight. With our rumpled maps,
we searched every clue, and were bitten perhaps
by a million flies. Getting relief from sunless skies
in times of fair weather, whilst hoping something lies
in the depths of the hot sands for our very eyes
to see. With my tools by hard work and search worn out,
I brushed to full view, the tomb, brilliantly carved out
of young blue blooded Tut, regally laid to rest.
To my wearied colleagues, I spoke in real earnest:
'To exhume the past, we are here at last.'
I.
They say women don’t need men anymore,
that they can have it all on their own,
feminism claims it is the future,
and that it’s contingent on me to know
that everything’s just a social construct,
there’s no difference that we cannot change,
and they go and destroy any scientist
who has the sense and courage to explain
that millions of years of evolution
imprints on all of our genetic lines,
the differences are not just skin deep,
they leave a large impact on our minds.
Even here amidst the great western world,
where there is much legal equality,
you would think we’d see a half-and-half,
but it doesn’t break that evenly.
Women rule in social science and nursing,
men dominate construction and war,
even with money for the girls in the STEM
and endless rants or manhood deplored.
And should a woman become the rare one,
strong enough to make it into combat,
she’ll be in the bottom percentile,
unable to match men’s muscle mass.
But we’re afraid to point out the difference,
though it’s been know for millions of years,
we’ve naturals strength bound to our sex,
and this now seems a fact to be feared?
But what happens to the naïve young woman
basing the whole of their future upon
a career where nature’s stacked the deck?
What will happen if we’ve got it wrong?
Haven’t you had a look?
I am such a flawed character in your book.
My mind goes mad as I sit and wait
Drowning in all this fragmented hate.
Believing the truth
While accepting these lies
I’m parlayed,
Inside I hide
Inside I’ve died.
Suppressed in this test
Knowing I am nothing like the rest.
Crippled by pieces, places and parts
Hope deferred kills the heart.
Banging my head against a stone wall
While fighting the maker on this call.
Breathing air drenched in disorder
This is me, your tattered daughter.
Indifference is worse than any type of anger
For when you don’t care life becomes even stranger.
Trying to muster the strength to go on
It’s been so long, what if I am wrong?
Walls are caving inside of me
Longing to be free from this captivity.
The door is open but I have invisible ties
Breathing in the where, what’s and why’s.
I’m holding on to this mustard seed
Or maybe it’s just been stuck on me.
Dreaming dreams of better days
I’m in a maze or just a haze.
Watching the movie but not a partaker
Somebody see her? Somebody wake her!
Being a visionary is somewhat scary
All these scenes slightly vary.
All are contingent on which way I go
Just like a flower that sideway grows.
Which direction is the light?
Where is this nourishment tonight?
Every day is exactly the same
I’m sick of playing this game.
The war is raging as all are asleep
I am just your cynical black sheep.
By: Sabina Nicole
I slipped on a teardrop and landed upright,
With no tigers or werewolves to scare me,
In the long silent night so salient and tight,
Where there was no hunger and travesty.
Desiderata mounted as a goat passions one,
Front legs up, leaning upon his spritely girl;
Fuel of life, oh twig of gentleness unsprung,
Never do you appear contingent on a twirl.
Winds howled on and on under supervision,
It seemed as if they were tall and even valid;
Rains hit hard my fragile frame of collision,
For nothing and nonchalance did they pallid.
Hiding my face with a wooden, olive scarf,
And umbrella to enhance my laugh stout,
I braced the chill that bade me ill and dwarf,
To retake the lost love that i could not gout.
Vigour of kings, my heart leapt for plenty,
Directivity vitalised my lionising soft breath,
Towards my rock of goodness, my morality,
And I landed stealthily in my own free seth.
When my pen hits the paper
I grow anxious and eager to write another caper
Steadily and gracefully then I lift my pen
I ponder with my thoughts on subject matter and where to begin
I hunger for one last metaphorical rhyme
As my thoughts race to my fingers, words form into sentences line after line
As a child of destiny I accept my fate
I have a lifetime of transgressions that awaits
So many words are buried deep in my sympathetic soul
The metaphoric rhyming words and phrases start to flow
Right away I start to contemplate and calculate
My words have to inspire and its meaning has to have weight
I will never stop from exerting my efforts, this is a must
God only knows how to guide us
We all know that evolution is inevitable
Also that nothing is contingent and coincidental
Our faults are no secret, despite our mistakes His love will never abate
To be honest our destiny is ours and we control our own fate
Actions are the seed of fate deeds grow into destiny.
Harry S Truman
A man's character is his fate.
Heraclitus
I'm not somebody that thinks about destiny and fate, but I don't walk away from it when something unfolds.
Angelina Jolie
The Heart That Bleeds Contest
Sponsor: Malta Forever
I've been lost and found and forgot where I should start,
it's all contingent on the circumstance of my bleeding heart.
Gone...no more...goodbye...
My veins twist and my senses expand,
as I walk by your picture on your old night stand.
Sure, there was a time I didn't expect this outcome. The clear ways of your final days
only portrayed who you never thought you'd become.
At a standstill as my vessels constrain and contract, you were most special but
I couldn't contain you through an exact tunnel to refrain you.
My platelets wither as my plasma spreads, they slither like lead poison into magma
forgetting you are dead, my blood moistens, believing your lies instead.
Vascular system depleting my oxygen, if only you had listened beyond religion,
contemplating secretion, as you started the incision.
When did you think we would find you?
Was it thought out or impromptu?
I've been lost and found and forget where I should start,
it's all contingent on circumstance of my bleeding heart.
My veins twist and my senses expand,
as I walk by your picture on your old night stand.
Gone...no more...goodbye...
Date Written: February 18, 2016
Just A Thin Blue Ribbon
Sponsor: Rita A. Simmonds
It’s not just a globe…
The atmosphere’s wonder is held within a deep creation,
with natural lands made out of nickel, iron and clay,
a sphere with beaming skies and the dry land habitation,
with stretches of transparent water; oceans, seas and lakes.
From up here it seems so diminutive yet significant,
the big bang promised an earth with ages of interglacial,
I see the hazy cobalt air aspect making the world magnificent,
while I stare from above at the clouds for it's purely celestial.
The ethereal goodness of the skies shown three hundred miles below,
makes me wonder who actually created the earth,
unfortunately, all the pollution and littering has taken its toll,
I think the fossil fuels and natural gas are the worst.
I see nothing but black surrounding me…
A state of nullity with nothing to touch and adhere to,
one of the things I see is different shades of green,
the other thing I admire is the streaks in the sky of blue,
for no one can comprehend the flawlessness I have seen.
The elegance captured is priceless; worthy of praise,
there’s no exception when revealing its azure merit,
if we could only realize the globes beauty and embrace,
we are all a part of the earth’s ecosystem and are biospheric.
There is an impeccable wonder streaming around in my head,
the earth’s health is contingent upon the lifestyle we live in,
let’s save energy and support the world with love spread,
I observe in awe at a distance, that graceful thin blue ribbon.
Date Written: May 10, 2016
A bent knee ...
Cloaked in black nylon, a briny drop from
The smooth cheek, contingent baptism
For a closed hand, it's precious cargo,
Now consecrated by circumstance and
Fate, moments before this it was but
The root-stuff of weeds and worms,
Now the sacred repository for all words
Unsaid, all emotions unspeakable, all
Essences of parting. The earthy symbol
Of a concluded responsibility, elements
Of a soul displaced to the realm obliviate,
Gently fetched from the dark mound beside,
The loamy results of a somber chasm
Gouged from the grass like a war wound,
(Six feet deep). Hand trembling, the
Digits part and loose their dark cargo,
Meager clumps of rich soil tumble their
Way to the grave, bouncing into the
Somber cleft and clinking with little
Thumps on the polished wood vessel
Below, it's fine gold appointments glinting
Like sprites in the chill of mid-day brilliance.
A soft irregular drumming flows up from
The foramen as the soil reaches it's
Adamantine destination, like the sound
His fingers once made on the arm of
His favorite chair ... when impatience
Surged, or his twinkling eye anticipated
The regard of his beloved, her return
Gaze the reply to the soft cadence made,
Their furtive code to the corporeal
Reward to come. Countless such
Remembrances, now only JUST that.
This gentle thrumming made but sad
Sonance, a wordless requiem, final, the
Music of life and love shorn of it's sweet
Melody, divested and sacrificed to a
War half a world away, and a cause
And effort made as meaningless now
As the words just spoken, and the
Tear-stained hand, and the hallowed
Dirt set loose ...
To it's resting place.
When I looked in to her eyes,
In it I saw a prospect of a paradise.
A paradise whose entry was not
contingent on my righteousness.
My days of startling agony, still battled my
hope of finding true love.
Like the Battle of Armageddon,
I always came out a looser.
But meeting her... yea the Vault of Heaven,
was like proximal to the Book of Leaves.
Her countenance and demeanor,
whispered melodic symphonies.
And her meekness and charm,
transited me into a world of ecstasy.
Covered In fine linen and sapphire,
she glowed than a continuous spectrum.
Her beauty was an Achilles hill,
that all men that saw her failed to vanquish.
Just like my maiden father Adam,
In her I saw the hidden part of me.
As a woman, as one I will be spending my life with.
I have never felt this conflagration before,
It was apparent she was my dream woman.
What can be compared to the taste of crimson honey,
The more it reddened the more it sweetened.
I have never loved like this before.
For her I was willing to exchange my soul,
To be with her till eternity.
But cunningly she unmasks her real face.
Beneath her could not be compared to an iota of grace.
She was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Who entered my life to distort and annihilate,
My hope of bliss.
All these while we paddled and flew high,
In the crescendo of our emotions.
It never crossed my mind that it was all a hoax.
A calculated sham just to make away with all I ever had.
Now am left with nothing,
Since her angelic face and docile pace,
Which I thought was the elixir my unending conundrum,
Was rather an emotional and psychological torture,
That has rendered my life defunct.
When I imagine her driving around town,
Adorned in my hard earned luxury,
There is only one moment I wish ,
I could re-write.
And that was the day I met her.
I always tell myself that sometimes,
It is better some people don’t come into your life.
But here I am know,
Wishing to right my wrongs and alter the past.
But it is so sad that I cannot have my way.
I know in the annals of time,
When my saga is being told,
I will be know as the moron,
Who killed himself because of a girl.
Though it may sound and look stupid,
I deem it a befitting penance,
For my obsessed illusion of love,
Thus love is an illusion that,
Emotionally disrupt sober discretion.
What can be compared to the stench of a broken heart.
Adornment in man's eye reveals
the ego centered self-concern,
while overlooking God's appeal
is higher, towards the spirit's yearn.
So buckled with contingent seal
the use of kind, elaborate earn,
one glance toward heaven soars to feel
the otherwise appointed learn.
Not finding in my own context,
I must rekindle thoughts adjourn
the height of predicating quest
that measures worth by self-return!
Oh, endless thought were once my prime
today the echoes sublimate
while thee, that once were metered rhyme
now sounds but stifle my relate!
"Tis us, acoustics narrow mate
that selfish monitoring pride,
inhibits thought's accelerate
and toward attention steals to ride.
Did compliment my fond estate
that once outstanding, thee in stride
now force for truth, a run-a-way
is always searching for Hope's bide!
Do cover then my error small
and of my penance not belate
as spacious beauty in enthrall
my overhead, not being rate!
God's tapestry to cover all
the seasons of my love's abate!
Celebrating Independence
Servitude
Subordinate, Contingent
Humbling, Depending, Condemning
Unknown, Uncertainty, Independence, Autonomy
Freeing, Reigning, Decision-making
Discretionary, Sovereignty
Liberty
Sunshine Williams
Heavy-hearted beneath your bridge with tides drowning
Eccentric beyond repair and never learning your lesson
Relief found comfortable only when you're frowning
Somber ruefulness contingent on your severe depression
Addicted to any mind altering chemicals; lost not found
Dastardly and wicked like a cowardly lion and a thief
Nondescript and lacking the ability to stay earthbound
Embezzlement of your felicity was your only relief
Sedated from tranquilizers and subdued from persuasion
Suicide found alleviation and refrained from confrontation
Date Written: February 25, 2016