Best Create Poems


Premium Member Create a Story With Me

Curl around me, take a chance 
escape in this sweet romance, 
create a story with me . . . 



I want to live in your poetry

The beginning is moving so slow 
and the middle lingers way too long, 
this ending I need to know
- so please don’t let go 
never, ever let me go, 
because this is where I belong

Wrapped in moments true, 
in the story of love- a beautiful mood, 
the rhythm and rhyme of you 

As these pages unfold- tenderly, 
thoughts of you hold me. . .  softly 

Embrace me, and take a chance 
escape in this sweet romance, 
create a story with me

I want to live in your poetry



Because this is where I belong, 
and the wait has been too long

This ending I need to know 
Will I be tangled in moments true,
in the story of love- a beautiful mood, 
the rhythm and rhyme of you? 

I want to live in your poetry



           ______________________
~ If loving you means living in your words ~ 

Authors Note - These lyrics are a reflection of the heart.  
I understand that need- of being someone’s beginning, middle and end.  
                Never letting go.


Friday December 13, 2019- Poem of the Day

Premium Member A Writer Born To Create

 
"Every story I create, creates me. I write to create myself."
 ~ Octovia E. Butler
____________________________

since young I have been writing . . . 

I felt like a child in a concrete garden
frozen and forlorn, alone
but words like kisses set me free
in writing I could create a new truth
create whatever I wished_

words changed the blanket of my memory
that river that flows endlessly . . . .
I can now create beauty from teardrops
from those tattered curtains that stir old pain

and I dream silent verse and rhymes that glide
for words and writing heal the scars
on the roadmap of my soul

and though my life is weather-stained with years
I can create beauty from the decay
and create the story of my path 
therefore, I go forward with hope and fear
into the wintry forest of life
to create words that reflect myself
on that road less taken by poets . . . .
to tell the life of a writer born

_________________________
October 10, 2020

Poetry/Free Verse/A Writer Born to Create
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1294-064-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France


Written for the Premier contest, Quotable
sponsor, Regina McIntosh

First Place

Premium Member Using John Denver Song Titles to Create More Songs of You

It always did seem On the Wings of a Dream
I’d Fly Away with you In My Heart -
through Singing Skies and Dancing Waters,
for Darling, The Music is You,
and The Gift You Are you have been from the start.

My Rhymes and Reasons, my divine Aspenglow,
Somethin’ About You, I can’t let go.
It seems I keep saying Goodbye Again,
watching you Leaving On a Jet Plane.
Then you’re Back Home Again and sweetest songs flow.

You can’t escape me, and I Can’t Escape you.
Poems, Prayers, and Promises prove this is true.
On Shanghai Breezes you Sail Away Home,
and I’ve Never a Doubt that for too long you’ll roam,
for you’ll Take Me to Tomorrow and more Songs Of . . . You.


Create Courageously

create a non cohesive fantasy
whimsical and demented
entwine legend with reality
let craziness be invented
            celebrate all dysfunction
            put it in the spotlight
            see if logic can function
            given only nonsense to highlight
just use a bit of magic
when putting pen to paper
migrate to the mystic
embrace your inner creature
             spin a vivid story
             with each glide of the pen
             set your imagination free
             walk through the door you open

Create a White Soil

I am black and you 
are white... of course;
my blood is red, what 
colour is yours?
I am an African, you are an 
American,
The Sun is my skin, 
why do you tan?

''I am white, you are 
black'', well said!
I have one head, have 
you got 'dash' heads?
Oh you are well read, 
you swim in books,
from where comest 
these niggas in thy nooks?

I am black, you are a 
Briton; that's right,
your speech sparkles 
like stars at twilight.
You have two hands 
and one high heart,
why crave this my 
ancient African art?

I am black, I have this 
simple sack,
Hey whiteman, 
it seems you do not 
lack,
I live in a hut, built 
on a humble hill,
I see those misiles in 
your power mill.

I am black, you are 
white, that'swow!
You did not create 
your skin-colour...why 
cow?
You call mea monkey, 
I eat sweet Bananas,
You look like a racist 
with lustuous lacunas.





I am black, yet in my 
eyes I see the stars,
from your white skies; you 
see but scars...
You are so different, 
why do you lament,
I am indifferent, you sound 
like... accident!

I am black, but you are in a 
black list,
You seem to be a 
terrorist, yes a racist!
We will all be burried 
someday... in a black soil,
create a white soil, 
it is worth the toil!

Premium Member Create What Will Become a Teensy Bit of Me

It began as an idea.
Hopped up on my dendrite highway.
Zoomed through my wide-open interstate and took me on a ride.
I was holding on as hard as I could.
 
A smile turned into a flat out worldwide laugh.
Idea one turned herself into upside down girl,
Flatulent gorilla, chameleon on a stick.
A poem? A canvas? A play? A book?
A novel? Possibilities overtook me
And threw me into a soft nap.
 
Ideas do this to me sometime.
To percolate prettily while I sleep.
I never color inside the box,
Because I do not see a box,
I always see a diamond or a star.
 
My hazel eyes on the prize, I took out my favorite glitzy paints and began to devour myself.
On a canvas, on the wall.
Drew the brush swiftly onto the wall and down onto the floor.
Never stopping, happily, zanily  out of control, abnormal to some,
Completely normal to me.
 
Beginning once again to create what will become a teensy bit of me...

Fully into the 
Kingdom of “be yourself” which my dancy, prancy muse and  I will leave
In my wake at my wake. 
Furiously creating a non-final me.

Written 12-14-2019    Contest: Creativity in Visual Arts
Sponsor: Line Gauthier


Create My Heart

Create my heart, create my heart fore it is reborn, care for it, caress it, make it as joyful to your extent, you are the only one that can move my joy. Kiss me, kiss me and never pull away, how I enjoy your beautiful love touch, how I earned your love is beyond me, just be close to me and only that is what I desire, such warmth at a cold time, how it changes my every action with such warmth. We may separate at times but our warmth shall remain the same, you are close to me by heart and how I hear your pound as it beats louder and louder when I approach you with a plan for us. Us is who we are and never I or you and you create my heart to your desires, as I to you, create my heart my love, times change and I don't want to lose you, create my heart.

Premium Member Someone Had To Create It All

It’s our responsibility,
To help the world survive you see,
It’s urgent, because after all,
Someone had to create it all.

Of every leaf on every tree
Reflecting pure symmetricality
Throughout the spring, summer and fall.
Someone had to create it all.

Of flower petals perfectness,
Roses next to zephyranthes,
Tiny mum, and sunflowers tall,
Someone had to create it all.

What of the ebb and flow of tides,
Life to all the creatures inside,
From Giant Squid to fish so small,
Someone had to create it all.

From zebra stripes to leopard spots,
How eagles fly and how frogs hop,
Mountain goats balance - rarely fall,
Someone had to create it all.

So, we need to give thanks each day,
That God designed the world this way,
And promise to put out the call:
Someone had to create it all.

Premium Member For the Moment To Linger

once in a lifetime
this moment
precious as it was
would never pass again

how i longed
for it to linger
to capture its essence
immortalize it

so i wrote this poem
to give it life
and set it free
on wings of a butterfly 



Published in my 24-page photo/anthology book ~IN THE GARDEN OF MY FANTASY~ 2023

AP:  2nd place 2021

Submitted on October 8, 2020 for contest ...AND SO I WROTE A POEM sponsored by JOHN LAWLESS  -  RANKED 3RD

WHERE NO ILLUSIONS DWELL

WHERE NO ILLUSIONS DWELL

My Heart pours out remnants 
                              of nothingness as I create in 
                  form from Universes unknown 
Union becomes Duality 
            a dash between birth and death
                   then disappears back 
                          to Source from whence it 
                                   sprung
       for to remain in form
             is to be captive to 
                 space and time 

So does Purity only live
              where no illusions dwell
                     in super seconds of no 
                         boundaries yet no escape 
                   frequencies of freedom fashioned                          
timidly we taste 
                            It remains a shadow we 
                                     all chase in our thousand 
                    million moments to bring 
                       Heaven down to Earth
                               before we are called 
back again, back again
                                   bowing 
                                        buoyantly !


©GhairoDanielsPoetry&
Song2007

Premium Member What We Want To Create

If I could calm the ocean, 
Uncurl the waves for now
Bring peace with understanding
That not all crashes to shore
Not all things are salt in wounds
A soft empty beach at night 
Can greet shiny ripples in moonlight
Glimmers of hope can hang on
Like barnacles to the jagged rocks
Not letting go in rough weather
Hope rests in the quiet night
Where loneliness can also visit
Instead take your hand in mine
Tides do not deliver what we expect
It is about what we want to create
Like the painter on the shoreline
Brush in hand, painting a memory
As the sun rises upon our faces
In a new day that has only just begun

Heidi Sands
5/28/17

Premium Member Create In Me O Lord-With Bated Breath--

With Bated Breath--
Create in me O Lord
Breath of life
Blow your wind a gust in me, O Lord
While I stand here on the realm of enlightenment,
Investing in the twilight lite placement in times;
Together my body and spirit separates,
Host has hurried and left its place, now lifted and faceless…

Breath has flown, gone on…
Arise, arise my soul dough flies flows towards heaven…
Tenderly submitting to the almighty Creator.
Each and every embrace,
Delivers He Himself God’s self-

Beholding His essence, caressing ever-present;
Reaches towards heavens skies, golden hills and valleys;
Everlasting premise glory endowed greatness;
All power created from my Father;
Total resources open create O’ God mine energy spirit;
Hold inside me rejuvenated, arise in me blow your- breath of life…
Create in me O Lord
Breath of life

8/22/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.  ©2019

Create Waves

Her essence succumbed 
to faded sadness
Uncertaining held deceit
Demons would drive 
her to maddness
Before she ever felt complete

Beguiled then trapped left 
alone and destitute 
Adrift in a mystifying way
Once so confident, her mind 
was absolute
Now her thoughts are in decay

Confused what happened 
what went wrong
Her world turn upside down
Now seemed life tasted of 
a bittersweet song
Needed saved so not to drown
She didn't want to make a splash 
All she only wanted was 
to create waves

Premium Member Renew In Me a Right Spirit Create In Me a Clean Heart

RENEW IN ME A RIGHT SPIRIT  CREATE IN ME A CLEAN HEART

My heart is dirty
My heart is filled with bowels of sin
Ahh!!  but my Father
Whose in heaven shall abide within 
O God, Create in me a clean heart
Renew  a right spirit
Lord, renew a right spirit in me

Clean me up, wake me up
Take my stoney heart flesh it up
Pure out my fowl sour blood
Inject in me God your sweet love
O God, Create in me a clean heart
Renew  a right spirit
Lord, renew a right spirit in me

8/26/18
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.©2018

Premium Member This Art Gig Is Therapy

Today is the day of a big fall festival, about twenty miles from here.  I have been juried in, and have purchased all the equipment, set up a white tent, and put out my paintings, a few hours ahead, and stayed around for days of waiting.   It took a lot of energy, and time, and I did not enjoy it, which is why I only did it twice.  Two different shows, both the same year, about four years ago.  I sold about eighty-five paintings, and they did not come anywhere near covering the cost of the tent, display pieces, and they did not give me back one ounce of time that I lost. I considered almost every second of tent time “lost time”, unless someone loved my work, which happened only three times in five days of waiting.

This art gig is therapy for me, pure and simple.  The best part is, that it keeps me out of stores, buying new stuff – a bunch of junk I get tired of in two or three days, shiny things that will be dumped into a bonfire when I do not use them any longer.  I lie. The best part of painting is the pleasure that it gives me.  It is the most relaxing hobby I have ever gifted myself.  I have mediated, and painting is like that only better, because I get to add color and glitter, and I love seeing my creativity unfold in surprising ways.  Since I already own a couple of hundred canvases and the paints, and I just ordered a hundred and fifty new brushes, I might as well do this cheap hobby that I love, right?  

I am not tempted to go to the fall festival. I feel the vendor’s pain, but I always try to buy something from each one, so I will not hurt their feelings, and if I keep it up, I will be working until I am ninety.

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