Best Creating Poems
On the bank of the James River,
Virginia Colony,
a proposal was conceived to constrain the African fire.
The ploy, a real achievement in the West-Indian settlements.
In Rome, bodies were paraded along the byways,
to make a statement.
My Massa used ropes.
We dangled by our necks like roosters in a slaughter house.
When the pining for liberty was stirred up in the marrows of our bones,
we set ablaze a few bungalows,
and murder some dumb beasts.
The statement we made was called an uprising.
The fields were abandoned, the livestock ran wild,
and the slothful young mistress had to breast-feed her own child.
The scheme had the ingredients of breaking a mule,
and Virginia Colony was the first lab for creating fools.
A prophet’s blessing was given to the merchants,
and black diamonds were shipped;
they were purged of the soil of the mother land.
A new being was fashioned, dependent on Massa.
A man was set against his consort and his seeds,
and the whips wrote rules on our backs in their faces;
our pride drained from the gorges in our hides,
and respect slowly seeped from their eyes.
The bond was broken;
a ***** was concocted
without the spirit of Ghana, the Warrior King,
and the Ashanti, the pre-colonial backbone.
Should we not push as a woman in nativity for the renaissance?
Here i sit on the loveseat
Which is my writing place
Slash and the computer
I sit in stillness and ponder
Which seems like long hours
Wondering what poetry form
I will create next yet
No idea comes to mind
So I sleep on it all night
The Ghost writer speaks
She gives me a title
On paper i write
By my night table
Then I sleep again
Pondering my thoughts
So with the pen and paper
The pen wrote these words
A poem created
Ready for submit
On the coumputer
** A Poetry Avalanche **
Goodness! Lord!
I’m on a roll this morning!
The poetry keeps coming —
nearly torturing!
My keypad arm and fingers are
alrady so tired…
It’s as if
The address of poetry were
On fire!
— With every poem present there
retreating
From the inspirations wrought from
burning memories, preferring
The refreshing lure of
allegories and fairy tales
to aid my creating.
There are still three more hours
Marked off in my planner to turn
Words into exemplary verses.
However, ink now covers every page
Printed out, such that all my papers
appear all scribbled and smeared.
So, I’ve quit scrawling in this diary
And brought my markers out, to kneel
Down here and write
All over
Across our living room’s floor!
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(c) sally young eslinger 6/27/2023
For two weeks o'er Christmas; let's straighten the bend, or flatten the curve
Lets just get on the mend.' Give amazon and others a holiday space
And more Important yourselves' just step off the goods race
For there's two weeks of freedom, maximise it and how'
Hit percentage throw a spanner
Explore a new kind of WOW.' Take the freedom on offer!
Its that time of the year, take from the takers'
Lessen your debt, cancel fear, in only two short weeks
Look upon it as done, it will lessen your burdens
It could be pure fun.?
Spend much less, use some reason; look' don't be a debt cow!
Push coersion to the roadside, flatten the curve, that is starting now.!
The workings of the hidden world
By the poet are revealed
The heart’s untangled in a verse
The secrets are unsealed
The poet paints a picture
In timeless light it glows
The beauty of the language
Is captured yet it flows
He’s expressing hidden feelings
And the value in all things
Can you hear the melody
The song the poet sings
Elegance and timelessness
For others to be blessed
He’s capturing for all to see
What cannot be possessed
Talk to me
Set your thoughts free
Find in me your peace
Know I am discreet
Show me your beliefs
Stand on them indeed
Like holy book we read
Boaz your Ruth is unique
Piercing heart so deep
And all fears do cease
Creating a beautiful unity
Faithful and filled with glee
Planted like green seed
Romantic and beautiful sweet
Feelings that never leave
Healing so much indeed
Smiles that never leave
Wild like fuchsia fantasy
Following loves true lead
Making so happy
With pen and paper
I'm ready to write
With my ideas
To form on paper
I am creating
my own poetry
Words flow on the page
So quickly I see
To form my poetry
Changes must be made
Re-writing must be done
Over and over
Until I am pleased
Then I would mail it
To one of my friends
For her enjoyment.
Written: August 28, 2023
______________________________________________________________
If you don't covet where you live, my friend,
Imagine a fitter home, a place to mend,
A sanctuary where dreams come alive,
A space where bliss and hope will thrive.
Picture walls that tell stories, so grand,
Of triumphs and adventures, hand in hand,
Each brick whispered tales of joy and pride,
Where memories of smiles will forever reside.
In life's vast garden, we all wander free.
Seeking souls whose presence brings us glee
If those you are with don't share your happiness,
Find raw companions—a tribe of blissfulness.
In the field of labor, where dreams collide,
Lies and truths are often hidden deep inside.
If your task doesn't bestow joy to your heart,
It's time to embark on an untarnished start.
Our time is short to be spent in despair.
Toiling away with no joy to share.
If your days are filled with boredom and dread,
It's time to tailgate your heart instead.
Even the shoes you wore last year
Need to be replaced, my dear.
As the seasons retreat and forego,
So too must your footwear flow.
Don't be embarrassed to experiment.
Wear modern shoes and embrace merriment.
Let your feet move to a different rhyme.
Discover a style that impels you to feel sublime.
Gone are the worn-out soles of the past.
Step into unknown and persuade your stride last.
With each step, you'll feel the ground anew.
Leaving behind what no longer serves you
I take it him down to Louisiana
those long forgotten day I couldn't live without
the days of heat and passion hidden in the sun
barely enough time to do what we wanted
Oh those days that summer in moonlight
when love was my only gift that came from inside
near that old Red River our own valley
the tug boats horn blowing in their travels
but we never stopped laughing
long enough to hold on and make it matter
Oh I dream of sweet love home together
as my memories make thoughts swim in love's river
two tiny toddlers in that old house asleep
as we made our dreams hope creating another
in nine months we held our creation of bliss
This is about my third child Sawyer. Moving into my childhood home, he got a gleam in his eye and we took a break from moving right there. I was so young. A tug boat came by blowing watching and no matter how much I begged he kept saying I don't hear a thing. I was so embarrassed. We were miles from civilization but my luck a tug boat came up the river. lol TMI just a fond memory now. Alabama was always on the radio, he would set it to take me down, or she and I. Over share I know. Not my best for sure but a memory just the same.
Prescott Bush proved his moxie
as war-profiteer proxy
with brother Harriman
since shame can't bury them
when suggestions turn Nazi.
Painting myself into a corner;
I wrote a poem.
Writing myself, into a corner;
I created a painting.
That is the paradox of me, you see;
I create, so that I may create!
Entered Contest: Ekphrasis 12 Line Max
Sponsored by: Rick Parise
1-19-15
Only when lions have historians
will hunters cease being heroes
we are one nation, one family, indivisible
for us, divorce or separation are not options
Though blacks first stepped foot in the Americas, in 1518
racial barriers broken, time passes,but love endures
racial rifts, tearing at the heart of America
clean your house of racism, America
Racism is a sickness that may never go away
there's no color in love
the ship has whethered every rack, the prize we sought is won
the port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting
African American history; the record of a race
of indomitable people surviving the diaspora
where do we go from here!
we move united into the future
Laughing and giggling into the night
Whispering enchantment so alive
Calling to the moon, so vivid and bright
Souls are sure to find how to revive
Whispering enchantment so alive
Melody of joy caressing gentle hearts
Souls are sure to find how to revive
Loving so thrilled with hope it imparts
Melody of joy caressing gentle hearts
Merriment embraces so rich and strong
Loving so thrilled with hope it imparts
Creating memories that last all lifelong
Merriment embraces so rich and strong
Calling to the moon, so vivid and bright
Creating memories that last all lifelong
Laughing and giggling into the night
Pantoum - Old or New
Joseph May
Entered on August 26, 2022
Written on May 19, 2021
Only when lions have historians
will hunters cease being heroes
we are one nation, one family, indivisible
for us, divorce or separation are not options
Though Blacks first stepped foot in the Americas, in 1518
"racial barriers broken" time passes, but love endures
racial rifts, "tearing at the heart of America"
"clean your house of racism", "America"
racism is a sickness, that may never go away
there's no color in love
the ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won
the port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting
Afro American history; the record of a race
of indomitable people surviving the diaspora
where do we go from here!
we move united into the future
In places where buildings hang on edges of rain clouds
it is for men to fantasize,
but every man’s reality differs
The white water carries souls who not long ago dreamt
the dream, the hope of pioneers,
the nightmare of different shades
I’ve walked cold nights on Route Twenty-seven,
sat in lectures with deprivation pulling on heavy eye lids,
and vision me with my head in rapture while boxed in
with iron curtains evoking pangs of democracy and psychological shackles
The dread of the past is ever present; a teacher to worthy scholars
Hearts are known by two
Tongues bestow weight to heavy spirits;
Openings are provided for such
Judgments come in distinct tones,
and when the down is counted out the angels came with bells
On park benches we sat with my reality
We got up
I stretched structures,
and exercised wits
Walk now with heads in cloud nine,
but be mindful of the shaded area and the blinding light,
the pallid light
No taste is superior;
Coercion and mobility,
such are the branches of wealth