Best Copes Poems
Whispers of Light color the Night in lifeless hues
Musical Notes arrayed in soft Quotes for a muse
Filling up Lives with captivating Archives in cues
For moments of Bliss, feels like a Kiss to bemuse
Gentle Insights soften our Sights with pure truth
Creating a Peace that will never Decrease its ruth
Embracing the Heart from the very Start of our youth
Echoing Hopes, finding moral who Copes with uncouth
From the Darkness comes a Starkness that sighs
Words within a Poem, so you Show him who tries
With passions Alive, burning to Strive so they rise
Above the Pains life sometimes Gains before one dies
Faith makes one Wise in another’s Eyes detect grace
That blinds the Soul who is Whole and cannot face
The past that Casts a bitter shadow that Lasts to chase
Black thoughts Around and finally Abound in this place
Loving feelings Abide deep Inside the one who feels
Alive with Compassion that leaves you Ashen from appeals
To be Appraised by those Amazed that love like this seals
The heart with Joy which will Destroy any corrupt ideals
In Rhymes Sublime Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
November 1, 2020
Categories:
copes, beautiful, faith, hope, inspiration,
Form:
Rhyme
Through somber steps each climb is made;
The fruitless efforts fail.
Thus, love unshared and work unpaid
Disturbs the nightingale.
In song it copes
With fears and hopes;
From limbs it hung,
All feelings sung.
Warm waters crawl beneath its wings
On lonely twilight trips.
Yet, cold of nighttime softly stings
The feet with which he grips.
So many are the shamed
Whose sorry sights were aimed
To win the hopeless fight;
The one unanswered plight.
Where care once came
Comes only shame;
Now only rhyme
Recalls the time
When lovers held each other tight
On nights of endless laughter.
The nightingale would take its flight,
Rejoicing ever after.
But friends refuse each others hands,
The sign of cherished life.
On edge of death his heart now stands.
Serrated is the knife.
Now gone away again to mourn
The winged creature flies,
Until the warmth of love reborn
Revives the sunken eyes--
Those bitter sockets filled with tears
Reflect the speckled moon.
Escape from tortured life appears--
He ends the final tune.
Categories:
copes, death, depression, loss, lost
Form:
Rhyme
When Betty hit the menopause
her symptoms all came on at once,
with her brain fog; she feels a dunce!
At night in bed, the hot sweat pours
and her nightie is soaked right through
she changes; then runs to the loo!
Bill tries to speak and Betty ROARS
as her mood swings are quite severe,
he grits his teeth and says ‘yes dear’!
She nags at him without just cause,
and Bill’s wants are quickly dismissed…
there’s no sex, it’s right off her list!
He wished there was a get out clause
but they’ve been wed for many years
Bill understands, copes with her tears
When Betty hit the menopause
at night in bed, the hot sweat pours.
Bill tries to speak and Betty ROARS
she nags at him without just cause …
he wished there was a get out clause!
Inspired by Constanza Contest
Best rhyming poem October to December 2017
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Entered on 07/28/20 into Old or New Constanza poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
NB This poem was written by an English poet - so to the 'British ear' the rhyme is correct
11-19-17
Categories:
copes, age, body, humorous, women,
Form:
Rhyme
Noise in her Mind
I know her so well she came long ago to visit my being
we share beauty and bedlam boudoir and kindest of spirits
She walks like a cat woman hears like a bat feeds birds
quietly she soothes thunder’s volcano howls with the wolves
Klimt’s Kiss Vermeer’s Girl With Pearl Earring Botticelli’s Venus Degas’s
Dancer In Repose Fedro’s Much Better With Age she
absorbs pastel and paint strokes symphonies on canvas
so many facets big bangs and roaring giggling convulsions
Sometimes Woman Laughing from Goya’s dark paintings
a Broken Column like Kahlo’s when some Munch’s Scream
invades and infests silence deep inside her beautiful scull
Voices shout from profuse directions focus condense and
refract confront tease torment disagree and interfere with
calm serene serenades when a few notes tender chords
and accord vanish into cacophonies misleading the song
I know her so well admire her resilience and how she copes
with the noise the disruption and the ballet of so many
different views pandemonious clangour onslaught of turmoil
as she appears calm on the surface orchestrates quiet composure
How she holds it all together I cannot really fathom with all that
jumbling distance so close and yet so far from my innocent mind
My Venus Of Milo has taught me so much most of it all and over
above that imperfection is a wonderful gift and very complete
Categories:
copes, love,
Form:
Free verse
Tombs begin to bloom like raw, bloodless wounds.
Tomes are written with truths of her dead moon’s
tones. A keening lunacy keeps the dirges alive, while
bones rise out of repose. A degloved hand on the dial
hones into a night rainbow's radio, she runs on solar,
hopes for the rhythm to wrench free from her toller—
copes with the captivity of being bodiless hands. Twilight
comes to chance escape—open palms toward birthright.
Coves burst into flame; a hungry fire wants holier water.
Coven circles, recovers the skinless limbs of their daughter.
Woven like song, sirens' balm to restore coats of missing arms,
women are spells read correctly, using words as our alarms,
woken to language, resurrecting ancient pairs of sacred charms.
Categories:
copes, appreciation, art, betrayal, death,
Form:
Rhyme
AT ONE WITH NATURE
~~~~~~~~~~
The sun shines, brightly lights my day. My garden verdant many hues of green. Greater speedwell, resilient, blooms no matter the season. Late spring, early summer it explodes. Late Jack Frost, it copes beyond my imagination. A host to many invertebrates sadly made conspicuous by their absence. All misguided by a warming sun. The jet stream meanders too far south making for freezing nights. Most flora copes albeit momentarily set back, however,
most insects' don't survive. The daytime warmth encourages insect eggs', pupae, to hatch, doomed, instincts confounded.
~~~~~~~
a garden
one word... paradise
once our world
~
The day moves on, observed bird life failing, softbills take seed to feed their young. They are faced with a catch twenty-two situation. Feed themselves or feed their young. Aphids on the day abundant, some well sheltered will, and do survive the relentless nights. False security for others, how many would it take to keep a blackbird alive
~~~~~~~
gardens'
where one can cultivate
a love for nature
~
Sun still shining yet the wind chill felt. Summer, I think what
are you doing, but realisation sets in, it is not nature faulting it's us humans treating it as though it is a garbage bin. I know I do, and, maybe you do too. That is to help nature as we always have, sadly we are just a few. We try our best to draw attention to the devastation world pollution is creating. To much time spent by governments debating, if at all? Cos I reckon for centuries they have been faking. Take a good look at your garden where are all the pollinators, Thanks to winds, well at least for some, for no doubt there is flora that will succumb.
~~~~~~~
one heart
a garden to cultivate
truelove
~
My day in my garden nearly done. Koi carp fed, some photography done, Garden sorted, grass cut, hedge begging to be clipped. I look agreeing, but it will keep till the morrow, come what may. Check the feeders, all is fine. Time now for a cuppa, to sit with my beloved, make sure she's comfy and make her smile, for sadly she been poorly for some time.
~~~~~~~
at one with nature
how a garden should be
a passion nurtured
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Categories:
copes, garden, nature,
Form:
Haibun
Time moves on
There is change
Better or worse
Just never the same
Our hearts adjust
Our souls accept
Our spirit copes
Our memory never forgets
Categories:
copes, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Like the Vikings who left us this word – ‘berserk’
some of us may have shown it through human reaction,
where we go berserk against disproportionate behaviors
such anger or infuriation that defines the immediate actions.
It’s still very human to act in this way with sudden eruption,
when inner anger overrules and makes us manifest towards others;
a strong element that fuels harsh words and outrage within,
oh, what a state of mind! so capable to influence us in many ways.
But Jesus Christ’s experience when confronted with torture,
suffering, crucifixion and eventually death in his heroic way;
his courage and humility which are worth mentioning here.
truly, a sublime reaction against those pains and persecutions.
He becomes human who copes with greater risks and pains,
identified not as a historical Jesus of natural stoicism;
with his real grasp of what his destiny may entail along the process,
his only response – to embrace the cross which means so much for us.
On Good Friday reminds us of his passion and crucifixion,
being betrayed, denied and left alone in humiliation;
in darkness and dread, in sorrow and bereavement,
he remains true to his mission and love for all the people.
His lonely agony in the garden of Gethsemane,
touches us so profoundly as he awaits for his destiny;
here is his obedience to the Father whom he prays to,
one with him, distinct in person, one in the Trinity.
Courage or bravery is worth remembering here,
it’s born out of a vision that comprises his self-giving;
that knows no fear but is moved with deep reflection,
all for otherness, all for humanity, all because of his love for people.
In today’s world where we’re constantly tempted with selfishness,
self-centeredness or obsession for power, money and prestige;
Christ’s journey with his disciples makes us reflect what it means,
to be a disciple is to be willing to sacrifice for the sake of others.
Categories:
copes, faith, history, hope, imagination,
Form:
Narrative
Ms Jo Hanley-Dunne, Ms Jo Hanley-Dunne,
varnished and tarnished by Val d’Isere sun.
The sway of your hips, the power to stun
brings promise of love and nights filled with fun.
Oh dazzle me, Goddess, you Queen of the Slopes;
a Mistress of Moguls, oh show me the ropes.
You’re someone who’s keen and someone who copes;
you fill me with lust, you stimulate hopes.
I know that you cook with consummate ease;
I know that you dive, alone, if you please.
Your place in the sun is large, Portuguese,
and far from your yacht, you wind-surf the breeze.
So join me, dear Venus, off piste, on a run,
then tell me, my love, your heart, have I won?
Oh! Rapturous joy. My courtship is done.
I’m going to live with Ms Jo Hanley-Dunne.
~
For John Heck's Competition.
Categories:
copes, girlfriend-boyfriend, hope, love, me,
Form:
Verse
The effectiveness of a minister
As to how he copes with life
Depends a great deal upon
His wonderful supporting wife
You're always there beside him
When trouble comes his way
You bring him so much comfort
By the things you do and say
You're not just there in sadness
You're there in joy and pride
No matter what God sends his way
You're always by his side
You have a very special gift
For showing so much care
And though you may not show it
You've got a lot to bear
It takes a special person
To do the things you do
God doesn't just use men you know
He uses their wives too
Categories:
copes, inspirational
Form:
Rhyme
The human heart bears the scars of lies,
cause deceit is intrinsic to Man.
And should the bonds of trust unravel,
Reality copes the best it can.
Betrayal is all too familiar;
feeling trapped, with no way to retreat.
For when life's non-receptive to dreams,
you get trolled by failure and defeat.
Wanting to find a pathway to love;
Hope persuades your heart to take a chance.
But when lies overshadow the truth,
dreams collapse as if pierced by a lance.
Struggling in desperation's grip;
teardrops fuel emotional storms.
And fighting feelings of depression,
you're mired in self-doubt, searching for norms.
A wave of confusing emotions
can weigh down a heart drowning in tears.
And tides of regret rise as you sleep;
stirring nightmares and dredging up fears.
Categories:
copes, angst, anxiety, depression, emotions,
Form:
Quatrain
You frowned at that fraudster called age,
The fiend that lets no one sleep light,
In book of life age is a page.
A child lets life a free passage,
Flying off in a fancy flight,
And this creature’s caught in a cage.
Grown up when knows, hedges on hedge,
Balks at calling this boaster’s blight,
Life’s a long book, age passing page.
Pushing up life’s hackney carriage,
Reaping fruits, in fair-weather flight,
He copes with that impostor’s rage.
When old enough, bit of a sage,
In vain trying life’s wrongs to right,
He prepares to pen life’s last page.
But you lived in heaven’s image,
Fought your best to give age good fight,
And frowned on that fraudster’s false rage,
Proved, life’s a book, age but a page.
______________________________________________________
Inspired by my father who led an exemplary life and died at the ripe and rewarding age of 102
______________________________________________________
Villanelle | 01.10.08 |
Categories:
copes, age, death, father, life,
Form:
Villanelle
The first time we spoke, i felt like i
was on coke, Yes you heard me, coke.
The warmth in her voice, was directly
opposite to noise. It was so calm and
sound i wished departing from her
will never be announced.
But then there was a denial, which could
probably remain for eternal.
So i thought to myself, ''why not
plot a delve''? A delve i plotted
but then regretted. Why?
Because i failed, twice i failed. For
i turned up but on each occasion turned
down.
I guess you wondering, ''who is the issue''? Exactly
the question i issued.It's about this mistress, unaware
she's causing me distress.
For days her image remained a forgery,
that stares me in the face like a mockery.
Making me sink into sorrow like there will be no tomorrow.
At this point, there is one thing i am left with, HOPE.
I will hope she copes. But i will cope with hope.
Till i see the mysteries of her uncovered, she will
lie in the corner of my bosom, with hope she
blossoms.
Categories:
copes, love,
Form:
Rhyme
Dreams of treasures and material things
Cause us to heed the loud voice of reason
While true dreams – the ones with gentle wings
Enchant the heart with love for a season
Hope alive with bright hue who sweetly sings
Sighing soft on winds of faith that breeze in
The New Year resolves whisper to my soul
Assuring that my life has a good goal
Some resolutions are based on lost hopes
Visions from within that fill hearts with grace
Mourning follows the assurance who mopes
Warming the secret thoughts with an embrace
Showing ideas on how the heart copes
Making aware of the ways we can face
The New Year with resolutions assured
Sentimental thoughts sought to be endured
Brilliant wishes color hearts with splendor
Vivid emotions murmur with kindness
Vision paves the way for the contender
Passions encourage sweet refinedness
Breathes of light capture all who surrender
Yearning for those who don’t have a blindness
The New Year pledges often bring a peace
Since much past grief we finally release
Isaiah 43:19
King James Version
Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert
Categories:
copes, celebration, new year, new
Form:
Ottava rima
Scores of recipes may need vodka in any way,
like every person, animal or object in this world;
water is essential, a vital need to everyone’
without it, life would not be possible to survive.
Its essence dispel the dryness and death
It’s a potent creation, a number one support;
that brings to life and sustains its strength
for one who lives and copes with many things.
What a great need for everyone to have water
and survive with it, along with other things;
in a perpetual state, water makes a difference,
it’s a source with its essence that means life.
In all settings, time, history, and situations,
their link to life-giving wonders and events
reminds everyone of God’s gift to his people
that He, in John’s gospel, is a living water.
Note:
Vodka: It is a Russian word, a diminutive of “water” (before you adopt an ironic smile, be aware that “whiskey” comes from the Gaelic for “water of life”).
Categories:
copes, faith, food, health, life,
Form:
Concrete