Best Cross(A) Poems
* For Mary Kathleen Lessard Caithness *
~
cast tie-lines to shadowy depths above
meteors to plunge the ocean of suns
kick off - tally-ho! from the pier of known
a scoundrel's nod to the skull and bone
vast skies uncharted now beckon ahead
a dusk of dreams splashed yellow and red
naught but astounding, the adventures be
an endless sojourn 'cross a sparkling sea
the sky-palette waits for a score of tales
come a warm solar wind to puff the sails
all worries and why's now, abaft the beam!
set our course due for a foolish dream!
a celestial tempest to bend the jack
to his tasking a-hold the kicking strap
stem the tide, aye, mind the moonbeam drift
spread her wings wide and give her lift
the sextant's now set to the Milky Way
(we'll grave her clean on a windless day)
to port side, a wink from the Seven Sisters
off starboard, the gleam of nebulous vistas
we sunder the clouds with our wake of mist
now dark matter deep and heaven-kissed
tossed by the waves through a sea of night
we gasp for the void, yet we drown in light
our spirits denuded and paean-versed
we dare constellations to do their worst
for now we all pull to the labor at hand
to chart the expanse of this boundless land
at the bidding and mercy of a rapturous breeze
three prayers for fair winds and following seas
'til our hearts are sated and our marrow torn
and we drop our anchor there, worry-worn …
on the sands of time, we'll commend our dance
and return our dust ... to the great expanse.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Sky" Poetry Contest, Anthony Slausen, Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Best Rhyming Poem 2018" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Sponsor.
~ Poem of the Day ~ at Poetry Soup.com, awarded February 1, 2018.
Inside my heart I have unwritten codes
Those values I enforce by self demand
Unbreachable, my lines drawn in the sand
Their presence helps to navigate my load
With age my principles have not grown old
Though times may change, the heart's still in command
I'll walk a line to lend a friend a hand
My conscience keeps my boundaries patrolled
And even though I do my very best
I make mistakes, sometimes I cross a line
That does not mean I'll compromise the rest
It simply means that I am not Divine
There may be times when I'm falsely assessed
But my self worth is rarely in decline
by Daniel Turner
POTD
Placed 8 out of 11 placements with 35 entries.
Final days of truth approach
I'm haunted by the tragedy of living,
remembering what an ignorant fool
I was indulging only in passive pleasures
of a world that is full of lies.
I bow my head and on my humble knees
I cross a rainbow bridge,
Search for a sweet blessing of love
and find a sweet serenity.
I hear a strange whisper,
A mumbling prayer of love.
It's strange that such an invocation
should ease my penitent pain.
For if old flowers their petals shed,
then there is hope for me
since I'll shed all my transgressions,
acquire new virtuous leaves
and pray to the Almighty
that He'll forgive my sins.
Violet, a lovely lady, kin to Purple, can be a contradiction.
Between her fellows Red and Blue (yet more inclined to Blue),
she lies with a calm passion! Unique and unconventional is she!
A symbol of humility, through the ages she has listened to confessions
as she draped the shoulders of Roman Catholic priests.
Yet often in society, she’s been seen as extravagant and vain!
Just for having embellished the rooms and the attire
of monarchs, emperors, and princes,
and just because Violet is flattering to the yellow found in gold,
should she then be punished for her wealth of beauty?
Should her shades with other lovely names such as
Lilac, Lavender, Amethyst, and Mauve
be seen in any other way as simply gorgeous?
Perhaps for her ambiguity as she shifts to deeper reddish hues
then back to cool blue, she is perceived in western culture
as uncertain and ambivalent, for she is not popular with the masses.
Van Gogh, however, understood her,
painting her as irises and showing her in swirls of stars!
And in the oriental world, where she is extolled,
she radiates the sublime harmony of the universe,
as the melding of the yin and yang of red and blue.
Violet, who sometimes spreads herself splendidly
across the twilight skies
and peeks out from rainbows,
is a beauty so rarely seen in nature
that the birds, stones and plants that she enchants
are not even too numerous to name.
Have you seen her purple pearl or coral in the sea?
Have you heard the song of African violet-backed starlings?
But oh! Violet loves flowers. . . Besides her small sweet namesake,
She colors crocuses, petunias, asters, geraniums and pansies.
Not many other things in nature does Violet cling to,
yet she adores the grape and plum,
and with a certain whimsy, she’s charmed purple cabbage,
the turnip, eggplant, and beets!
Rare lady in nature, Violet, my adored, why is it that you are not more loved?
As I cross a field of lavender and breathe you in, the answer to my question
eludes me.
"Blue Carnal"
Libertine take your time
unlace the chords of
the corset of my mind
cerebral you take me
walking barefoot towards you
like your welcomed stalker
through your windows
twin mirrors
naked flames'
unfurling reflections
Your mind is the tide that turns me
I am walking on the edge
Omnipresent you turn me over
dissolute you are too fast and hot
Blue Carnal
I am your soft core hard reckoning
(LadyLabyrinth/2018)
https://youtu.be/P3BPLzPOCxo
"She returned many times to this apartment. Her desire would begin long before each meeting, as she dressed for him. At all hours of the day his perfume would issue from some mysterious source and haunt her. Sometimes as she was about to cross a street, she would remember his scent so vividly that the turmoil between her legs would make her stand there, helpless, dilated. Something of it clung to her body and disturbed her at night when she was sleeping alone."
(Delta of Venus, Anais Nin)
How wonderful it was when young to stray
and find sweet springs to sip from on my way;
to get to stroll down summer lanes and touch
the cattails’ fuzz that tickled me so much!
My childhood passed. I got to cross a sea
and see green mountains tower over me;
see sunlight streaming on a Spanish plain.
I FELT it too upon my face, and rain
I also got to feel while ambling
down Paris streets; I loved my rambling
from west to east and back from east to west.
My youthful days of rambling were the best!
I’d wandered, yet I somehow always knew
I’d make it back - my rambling days all through.
I was not made for wandering too far
nor making many wishes on a star.
I settled down. Most wandering left my mind.
I never guessed the future I would find.
One day inside my empty nest I found
(as if by magic) I could get around
to other places! Thoughts would fly to me -
the lovely vagabonds of poetry!
I do not have to leave home; there’s no cost.
Creating, I am wandering, not lost.
Dec. 22, 2021
When I need an uplift for my weary soul and to clear my muddled mind.
I slowly cruise along a country road to see what treasures I might find.
I leave behind the frenzied traffic on the four-lane interstate,
To enjoy bucolic vistas along a gravel road, my languid soul to sate.
I see old barns with Mail Pouch Tobacco ads now faint due to age,
And remnants of Burma Shave signs with their charmin' adage.
Stately homes with white picket fences grace the country road,
With roses of every hue surroundin' emerald lawns all neatly mowed.
I cross a rickety wooden bridge 'neath which country boys are fishin',
And for long ago summer days of feckless youth, it gits me to wishin;!
A lady waves to me as she hangs her laundry on the clothesline to dry.
A sign on the old country store reads, 'Wave If You Can't Stop By!'
Farmers on John Deere tractors wave as they tend their fields of grain.
They sure kick up lots of dust and I reckon they're prayin' for some rain.
I rolled down the windows to savor the wonderful scent of new-mown hay,
And slow to let an Amish family in their buggy move along the way.
Fat cattle graze on lush meadows, each with a meanderin' stream.
Horses gaze at me over fences as they look askance and dream.
I loathe interstates where folks think they're in the Indy 500-mile race.
I prefer old country roads where life is enjoyed at a much slower pace!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
I am here surrounded by
People of every shape and size
Skin color--disability
Why can't everybody see
We may be different from outside
Open your eyes, you will find
The similarities that we all share
Look closely--cause they are there
Red blood pumping through us all
Trying to stand, we sometimes fall
Fear anger and devotion
We can not hide these emotions
Hunger burns when we desire
Everybody has a fire
That grows from embers and ashes
Memories in our mind flashes
Recalling all sweet and bad times
Sometimes we can cross a line
But loved ones bring us right back
When we are about to crack
Tears, disgust, terror and hate
Are feelings we can all create
Greed and negativity
Are two things that shouldn't be
Part of who some people are
Sometimes it just goes too far
Racism and bullying
Two more hurtful ugly things
we need to try and delete
So everybody can defeat
The cruelty we can display
Are you hearing what I say
Knowing how alike we are
Should let us get very far
Uniting in joy and peace
This wrong view will stop and cease
Forgiveness comes not from without,
Rather inward, born of understanding.
It's not an emotion given to shout,
This quiet strength never demanding.
Only a peaceful soul is calm, reflects,
A selfish one a churning rapid, shallow.
Forgiveness cares not for itself, it deflects.
Though pierced by thorns from a rose mallow.
Held close, yet in palms always revealed,
Shared with all without care or malice.
Forgiveness flows freely, never concealed.
Its seeds fell from a wooden cross, a holy chalice.
Forgiveness is the light that cancels dark debt,
As it gives completely,a noble mindset.
Contest Forgiveness
10/3/15
Insomnia turns my heart young again
Tossing and turning, I wonder where I am
Unaware of what restlessness brings
"What do I want?!!" I call out to it and rethink
The child in me awakens to remind me
When my roads cross a world with a spark
That lives hither and carries secrets of another
That speaks of Lincoln and Bose alike
That loves Sanskrit and French alike
That sings Del Rey and Kishore alike
That reads Coelho and Kalidas alike
That pursues Vivekananda and Socrates alike
That pictures Whitman and Tagore alike
That analyzes Schrodinger and Raman alike
That follows Christ and Shiva alike
That lives frequencies and poetry alike
That travels to Darjeeling and Prague alike
That lives under stars and blankets alike
That walks on deserts and oceans alike
That dances on passion and romance alike
That burns with fire and desire alike
That believes in Science and Magic alike
That knows love and oneself alike
That covers journeys and conquests alike
That spark, yes that spark, is what makes my heart skip a beat
And takes me to dreams and hopes again every night.
May 14, 2020
BRIAN'S CHOICE C,any form,any theme
Winner: Honorable Mention
The old cypress steadily marks
my walk where tremblina birds
roost under misty rain
As I pause along a white-stoned port shrouded
by tanaled album of littered memories:
Gentle this breath the breeze upon
a heaving chest
While furrowed leaves stoop on this marsh:
Somehow, my hands threw the folder
of memoirs into a bin :
Breaths lingering deep to caress edges,
that only winds understood a long love qone.
Then in a whim, a stranger picked the folio,
handing it to me just before the stars
faded on my prayers :
Now. I stride down the lane
to cross a wooden bridge, to welcome new stars.
Contest: Middle January Premiere Contest
For Brian Strand Reposted 1/18/2018
Lament
Brooding days,
Vanquished in the unconnected gloom,
Shower frost,
Standing watch at dawn to pierce the morning
With an artic tempest,
Swirling ‘cross a land lost in forgetfulness:
Sighing
Beneath borderless views of snow unbroken,
Where nothing dare disturbs
The unchanging vision
But a single line of footprints
When skies of grey and bleaker daylight
Lean so close to earth
They lay their heaviness upon a homeless wood sprite
Wandering in the raw breath of twilight dawning,
Caught by phantom gusts
Spiraling down,
Shivering as the brumaled wind
Runs its fingers
Through the marrow of the soul
Where slumber languishes,
Icebound
As plodding steps
Frantically searching groves of tangled silver linden,
Pursued
And haunted
By the relentless midnight sun;
Errant fugitive,
Followed by the wispy remnants of a golden morning,
Trembling
As barren aspen branches
Beneath bright errant bursts of fiery lights -
Racing
Across
The northern sky -
Taunting
Tortured
Eyes
Seeing only to remember;
Grasping
For a single crocus
Plunged into yearning
Until the boreal shadows
Touch
The depth of darkness
Bidding nordic sprite to sit,
To rest,
Curled up against a frozen birch of black and white,
Taking final flight on tattered winds
Heralding the touch of sunlight.
Godspeed my friend
Oh let's do something crazy
Let's go moonbathing at night
and we can knock on doorbells
and then have a rainball fight
Or let's go on a rampage
of destruction of all fear
We'll wreak some anti-havoc
spreading harmony and cheer
People need to drop their worries
go outside and play
a good old game of hide and seek
and we can lead the way
It's time for some tomfoolery
and high jinks to abound
Too many people lose themselves
in troubles so profound
So let's try something crazy
Oh I know what we can do
We'll skip some pebbles 'cross a pond
and climb a tree or two
We'll take your heavy burdens
and just toss them in the air
and then we'll dash through flowery fields
without a single care
Life is getting very short
it's time for boisterous fun
And many will not understand
until their time is done
Tomfoolery and high jinks
are the order of the day
We'll throw in some shenanigans
while laughing all the way
2/26/19
Lyric Man
(Dave)
You feel him touch your heart
and if you look you'll find.
Long after he has touched you there
his words are on your mind.
Sleeping in the shadows
where there lives a lovers dream.
Like a soft warm rustle
or winds ripples cross a stream.
Softly like a gentle breeze
is how it seems to start.
Goose bumps on your skin
he's already found your heart.
A gift sent down from God above
it wasn't his own plan.
Emerging from the darkness
he became the Lyric Man.
Writing songs and lyrics
that only lovers hearts can sing.
Shining through the shadows
with the light that his words bring.
Reaching out just like the wind
and changing like the tide.
Opening doors that once were locked
and touching you inside.
Leaving tracks upon your soul
like a river that once ran.
You'll know it's true should he find you
you've met the Lyric Man.
Edwin C Hofert
"What is an odyssey without a quest?" - quote by author of this poem
Over land and mountains, valleys and hills,
Daring on your own – to cross a vast sea,
You told me you had done this all just for thrills.
Surely you’d had other reasons to travel
So far from home and for two whole years.
Even now, I feel my life with you unravel.
Your wanderlust engulfs you, blinding you to my tears.