Best Cored Poems
THIS IS THE DAY THE LORD GAVE!
Looking out life’s window,
Trying to find out why I am so sad and down.
I don’t blame the Lord for my struggles.
I know strife in life is there.
If I did not live a meaningful existence, life would have no meaning at all.
So maybe I am stretched to the limit but I will never give-up.
Standing, I pillar because I am my self-worth.
To those that suggest a difference, my earthly work magnifies who I am.
Justifying my subsistence, my affluence is only a gen.
The knowledge this provides is of a greater acumen.
May I say that living is first and utmost privileged circumstance!
The Lord is my keeper and to him I give honor and respect.
In this solitary world, we seek companionship.
We go through situations in our relationships and may lose focus.
However, the Lord is there for us in our time of discontent.
Regime is formed and we mindset.
Our spirits are inner cored for fulfillment.
There is no greater cohort than the Lord’s intellect.
I know because this mountain I continue to peak.
Without question, I am profound in my belief.
That the Lord is the keeper of my faith and mankind is the persuader of a different way.
In joy, I laugh aloud.
I am not blind to the lies of mankind.
My footsteps are admin to the all-powerful.
This day is given by The Almighty God.
Do I hear an Amen?
___________________________________________________________________
Penned On January 11, 2015!
I am the Temple
I am the temple
Baptized in rain
Weaned by the sun
I am the temple
A manifestation of glory
Well-formed beyond perception
I am the temple
Capable of cored inner peace
Taught by the blossoms of the great oak
United in matrimony to the wind
I am the temple
Mystical in origin
Halved with the contents of the ocean
Bathed in dewy blades of grass
I am the temple
Wired to heal
Mulit-layered with creative energy
Painting realities across life’s canvas
I am the temple
In its purest and truest form
www.nefretitim.com
I was a rose cored inside your bosom
a verity of truth so seldom seen
place your hand on the spot where I blossomed
you'll feel the shiver of my petaleen
you were the gardener with the warmest touch
caressing my petals, you made me cry
each gentle kiss a floral scented sigh
thanks to my grower I grew up so much
Winds of change have blown and now you are gone
I'm just a dead flower, sitting on your lawn
Feeling the nip of a wintertime frost,
I realize just how much I have lost.
November 27, 2020
'Course as a grim teller of tall tales,
(albeit poetic) reasonable rhyming
quasi roundelay I readily admitted to feign
cuz, stringing words together with
pride and prejudice plus
sense and sensibility, jocularity,
and conformity I dissed deign
(spoiler alert) iamb, trochaic,
dactylic, and anapestic metrical reign
jest your ordinary garden variety
dollar short day late dime a dozen
penniless citizen banker Abel and Cain,
yet mine mean mien blithely, daringly,
fatuously, ludicrously, nauseatingly,
pretentiously playfully urbane
many (if not all readers)
will coon sitter
yours truly harmlessly insane,
whose feeble attempts
to wax and wane
oft times falls flat (splat goes Matt)
as if dropped out plane,
without a parachute
instantly recuperating while lain
supine (winded, but...
none the worse) asthma brain
suffers concussion, confusion, contusion
actually, immediately, and unexpectedly
knocked fluent German speaking ability
within germane guy verständlich?
If ye really comprehend
trademark non Turkish gobbledygook
then explain (using
language of least familiarity),
but best to commence
with eye catching hook
impossible mission
apt lit pupils (mine)
to evade even momentarily
riveting, spellbinding,
and transfixing look
courtesy ingenious way
with word ye snook
cored me and took
wind out my sails.
Nor could I breakaway courtesy automobile,
cuz 2009 Hyundai Sonata
would not start... yea for real,
thus finding me ready to yoke
neck (think gibbet) each heel
dangling as body goes limp
blessedly, finally, happily
ridding me of any/all hangups,
one less goo goo gaga born this way
poker face cards for him to deal.
UNGABLUZUM describes this schlemiel!
Tranquil thoughts
breathing
of slow kissed sights
comforted
in expelling this light
languorous trembled gaze
A mask promising nothing
yet yearning to taste
now pushed aside
Risking this pull
stakes everything
Claims made
forever washing
though tears of ecstasy
now rolling free of
ducted bliss
trailed warmth of
cored beings
exquisite dripping
yets
Serenades of wanting
traveling through blood
as feather breathes
brushed lightness
thieves strength
floating in
washes of joyed right
Unaltered and bare
lured to charm
unhooked to potent need
she is lost
Silkily softness crushed in satin
drawn to slither tight
set free to embrace
crystal screams
shattered
in feathers graced might
Masked
to be nothing
revealed
in breathlessness
I miss the play of outside sunshine,
But the nose knows it’s safer to quaver,
From going outdoors, acting sanguine.
Raw throat, stalled breathing - I’m on the floor,
Caused by flying too close to the ceiling.
Snow was in store, but I dressed poor,
Saw the sights, had too good a time,
Impulses attended, weather ignored.
Now it’s chicken soup in place of wine.
Emotions - once pleasures, now bore;
Strength - once coiled rope, now balled twine.
Even the apple of my eye seems cored.
If mindful for a change - symptoms will decline,
As the coughing nasal squeak turns quietly into a roar.
Meanwhile, I’ll buy shares in the Kleenex line,
I have a hunch - my use of tissue cause prices to soar.
W as it just yesterday when
I found a vestibule
R ight next to my goals
E lse something is wrong, which brings
D elineation of a moral code!
I would set the world afire with political desire to achieve and to aspire.
I am going to be a political activist on women rights.
I have step-to-the-cause to claim ownership of my rights.
I am a political powerhouse not to deny.
I have Thunderclap and no response transgress.
Now the world I am within is in a doctrinal arrest.
Transmutation has taken place to transpire social injustice.
Transformation becomes work ethics.
The solidification of a soul is a sensation inner cored
Underlying posture of strength positioned to win.
Bearing the cargoes of a ship those encumbrances of conspiracy,
Insofar, I am the scent of my soul.
Therefore, I am a cannon passing through time not afraid to live for what is right.
____________________________________|
Penned on October 12, 2014 @ 12:11 AM EST!
When first freed from mother's skirt, still arrayed in white,
dew kissed, peach sweet, blush cored, I dove into
love, Persephone pierced; where ox-eyed daisies grew
within a field abreast a Roman ... in daylight.
Dry merlot overcast the blooded spot on site
where passion flowered upon the box stitched blue
quilt Grandmother with constancy had imbued.
Yet, youth was not enough to make the man contrite.
An omen ran through red bee balm, a hound of black
long-limbed, loosed to pursue the brazen few who dared
to lay unabashed in sunlight, the farmer stared back
from the porch; he saw them run, saw yarrow in her hair.
Ill fated yes, but first love is honeyed and that is a fact;
nothing's sweeter than a maid undressed in open air.
37 Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’[a] 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’[b] 40 All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” NIV.
Two Great Commandments
We must praise God with our total being;
With newfound faith in Him are believing;
Yourself forget;
In neighbors let;
Help those in need who will be grieving.
Jim Horn
St. James Episcopal Church
Shallotte, NC
lord 127 End Rhymes
One-syllable rhymes
board
bored
chord
cord
cored
cured
fiord
fjord
floored
ford
gored
gourd
gourde
hoard
hord
horde
lord
moored
oared
pored
poured
roared
scored
shored
snored
soared
stored
sword
toured
ward
warred
whored
Two-syllable rhymes
abhorred
aboard
accord
adored
afford
award
backboard
baseboard
billboard
blackboard
breadboard
broadsword
buckboard
cardboard
chalkboard
chessboard
chipboard
clipboard
concord
contoured
corkboard
dashboard
deplored
discord
duckboard
explored
floorboard
footboard
freeboard
hardboard
headboard
highboard
ignored
implored
inboard
keyboard
landlord
lapboard
moldboard
outboard
outscored
pasteboard
pegboard
prescored
rancored
record
restored
reward
scoreboard
seaboard
shipboard
sideboard
signboard
skateboard
slumlord
soundboard
springboard
surfboard
switchboard
tagboard
toward
uncured
wallboard
warlord
washboard
whipcord
Three-syllable rhymes
aboveboard
centerboard
checkerboard
clavichord
coinsured
fiberboard
fingerboard
harpsichord
mortarboard
notochord
overboard
overlord
paperboard
pinafored
plasterboard
pompadoured
prerecord
reassured
shuffleboard
smorgasbord
stevedored
underscored
unexplored
unrestored
untoward
weatherboard
Child labour
He is just a boy
Not yet a man
She is just a girl
Not yet a woman
He need to grow with care
Not to trade on the street
She need grow with care
Not a prostitute on the street
He is too young to be a bread
Winner
She is too young to be send to
Marriage at age of 12
Why the hard cored on this
Innocent soul in places
Like boldly and clearly
Is much well seen on
The so called third world
Beyond the third world as well
As doe some profit while
The innocent grief
For as a slave is as
Child labour
move over make motions for more
seems the same chapter approaches the shore
history on repeat like a skipping record score
to my life movies pickled and cored
struck my nerves but in tune with a chord
tri tones raise my hair soon too forward
against the grain of my neck craned and torn
I complain about storms till the drains foreign
uh oh let it flow, catch my drift or just let me go
I got no translation for me in my zone
I happen to perform well on my own
It's not as simple as a poetic form
my desire to be kinetic since I was born
sympathetic to the challengers
to match my norm, if you sat in your dorm
meant to be just a so long As
I'm being chased by horns
driven to the ground, combustion from the pressures
muscled out the members, consolidated with embers
tinker with the ventures, till my circle encircles the center
inertia usurping certain pretenders
I never have enough apples.
Apple pie, which I will only eat
alamode.
Apples, to keep the dentist at bay;
apples, to keep a nagging teacher away.
Apples, cored and filled with peanut butter
and raisins,
finds balance somewhere between a raindrop
and the symmetry of snowflakes,
where balance cannot be found.
Like old age and youth
the man in the mirror always wins.
No matter how long it takes
to see him, he's always there.
Old ladies lose muscular tone
and daily search to balance sag and arrest,
another dirty smudge where balance
cannot be found.
I take pride in the old woman's knobby fingers,
I 've earned every lump you see.
It brings me joy to look at them...
I have my grandmother's hands..
and that balances everything.
Suddenly,
Heartbeat trumpeting in my throat,
Her presence,
It does that to me, sometimes,
I force myself to
To neutrality, absurdity, mask,
We talk,
I remain, the elephant in the room,
I talk,
No one mentions that I am the elephant in the room,
I remain,
Iron cored neutrality,
Masked girl,
Forever masquerade,
Questions set me grasping for straws at the end,
Each day,
Best friends, always,
My heart still beating in its cage.
It's these times the brainwaves' brimming
But there's no cored means to articulate
Hooked at a slant of transcendence
Staring down fat glimpses of life lived through death
It clots red-black, thick in the dropper
Junky blood comes and it goes
The eye of the spike, the swell of elation
Death peals, heart drags, blow outs
Headglows
Don't patronize me
With your long, lean laughs
Stretched skin, smoothed skin
Droning wisps of sour-smelt breath
No-teethed, gumless, bone-grinding
Skeletal rasps
What exactly is it that…
Makes you any better than…
The junky in the gutter groove
We all have our button up, fasten, tie-in, fix
Some just subsist in it, with it
Live it to exist in it
It's high time the wavelengths blurred
The Distance Between
Far to the east, pale moonlight
Admonishes thoughts yet to be born
To the west, where yesterday is spry
The lighthouse awaits
Her flare quenched by Nature’s cry
Hag-ridden planks of an ancient pier
Weathered and grayer than what lies on top
Scarred scent-laden green
Sway with the rhythm of the briny sea
Revealed in the distance between
Where copper coins and hooks silver cored
Fall to a forever resting place
Held by the sea’s lonesome loam
A pauper’s treasure
Buried by sea foam
Will memories of you once beset
Slip through the distance between
I ponder, salty pearls rimming my eyes
Shall Neptune’s realm hold the sweet bitterness
of what I long to forget
My misery is disrupted by a bird come about
Alabaster body
And ebony eyes
As though sensing my thoughts,
The lowly bird casts me a look of doubt
Ignoring the faithless fowl
I turn my eyes to the
Distance Between
God’s light consumed by the sea’s depth
I peer into the emerald green
Memories like golden cobble shine
I inhale the dark sea’s pungent breath
Through ragged cracks greater than
The distance between life and death