Best Crossroads Poems
I hold my papers and pen
not a poetry to write
it is the school year again
one other journey in time.
My ever burning concern
would my words find their way
as all my candles I burn
to meet yearning faces each day.
A thirst for light in young hearts
I lend my soul, the blanks I fill
and then a whole story starts
quenching feels would be a thrill.
When my pupils take my notes
would they read devotion in many a line
my fear, a quote or a word floats
my quill unveiled in heart shrine.
I hold my pen with great zeal
two paths I walk, a heart is torn
my love how can I conceal
at a crossroads, a poet is born.
They split and chose divergent ways.
I wondered where their love had gone.
There was no sign of passing phase;
They split and chose divergent ways
As embers died after the blaze
Turning to ashes. Thereupon,
They split and chose divergent ways.
I wondered where their love had gone.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A Triolet Poetry Contest
Hosted by Kim Merryman
Placed 1st
© 23rd May 2021
I was at a crossroads in my life when I met you.
My heart was in turmoil and indecision infiltrated
every fiber of my being. Should I stay or should
I move over two thousand miles away?
I was off balance with two small children to consider
who counted on me being the stable mom they knew.
I cried for them not me, I cried because I had no answers.
Your strength without promise got me through.
I had never met a man like you. A man whose kindness
knew no bounds, a man who listened without judgment.
A man who had the same kind of baggage I dragged behind,
who understood the pain of divorce with children at stake.
You made me feel safe as I mourned my loss, you were my rock.
Neither of us was looking for love, yet we were drawn
together by invisible forces we later accepted as destiny.
Your handsome face caught my eye, I won’t deny, but
your soul-light shined so bright I couldn’t help but love you.
I then knew the right way to go at those crossroads, I
took the path that led straight to you.
9-20-19
~Second Place~
Crossroads Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One
The arrows at
The crossroads
Offered naught
But the truth of
All the answers
I had sought
They were blanched by hope’s long faded sun
The meaning of the words too long undone
choices that they said should never be made
start anew
walk alone
in shade,
separated
fearless
unafraid
I looked
Upon the
arrow’s->
rotting shaft
as I passed
I swear the
Ravens laughed
9/22/2021
CROSSROADS Poetry Contest
Written: November 09, 2023
____________________________________________
Meet me at the crossroads of my life.
Underneath the streetlamp, I will be waiting
expecting you to whisk me away,
shivering in the drizzle of coolness
truly trusting you'll truncate my trauma.
Meet me at the crossroads of my life,
need to sense your embrace as I wait
urban sounds drown out opinions of you,
as piercing sirens blare across the silent night,
A purr from a black dog terrifies me.
Meet me at the crossroads of my life,
minutes later, your svelte, seraphic allure shows up.
Seeing your stern sentence, I glance up
We stroll as one, holding hands,
in the abyss as nobody yet triumphed.
Is it the blaze that ignites the soul?
rather than the flame-holding heart?
Is it love that motivates a person?
or the spirit that ignites the fire?
the eye requires the light He created.
Together we walked,
Side by side awhile –
You, on your road,
I, on my sidewalk;
You, in pursuit
of dreams yonder,
I, caught up in my
thoughts at hand.
Somewhere down the road, we came to a
crossroads and you chose to take a different
course, turned your back on me and walked away.
My path led me
down a dead-end street,
I turned around and
walked my way back
and found you standing,
Lost and beside yourself
at the very juncture
from where we went
our separate ways!
Oh, whither do we go now?
~Contest: Crossroads Shape
~Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
The tapered blade glinted in the fast fading moonlight
It slipped so easy between the ribs on this, another murderous night
Swiftly the body was denuded of all his earthly goods
As the bladed murderer slipped off, into the nearby darkening woods.
The tapered blade reappeared two nights from that deed
No one took notice, the warnings they did not heed
The blade did flash the body fell, gurgling sounds did rise
As the body crumpled the life blood gone, twas no real surprise.
A vigilante, they declared, was on the prowl at night
Two evil men had been attacked and given more than just a fright
The death toll rose week by week, but none could tell the tale
The man with the tapered blade, not once his deadly blade did fail.
The bloody murderer with the blade came to a crossroads in his life
He stood between three roads marked Hope, Despair and Strife
Onto his knees he fell, he prayed and asked “Which road do I take?”
I have done your bidding Lord; help me my choice to make.
Looking down from heaven on high the Lord was angered so
“I never told you to act as judge and everyone will know.
Behind you a fourth road is opening this one is called Retribution.
Take that one if you dare I say, but expect no absolution.”
The murderous vigilante, his thanks did express in supplication
He took the given road, not realising this act was in its self the causation
Of the opening of a doorway where stood the Reaper with his scythe
As the curved blade came down, he watched his victim writhe.
The Grim reaper did smile his daily task he did so enjoy
To be given a soul to keep, would keep his devils in happy employ
So if you take the path-the one marked retribution
Remember at the end of it may not be the hoped for or best solution.
©5/11/2102 ~GG~
At some stage in a turbid life,
Temptation stalks around the bend.
The devil waits with a friendly smile
At the cross-road time we spend.
The cross-roads are our troubled time,
where sin and prayer do blend;
If we can read the devils smile,
God wins out in the end.
For prayer is our line to heaven
to rejoice in every day
through teaching from our saviour,
may life always stay that way.
But hellfire is sent to tempt us;
and destroy us too they may!
If we choose to take the devil’s route
when at the cross-roads we delay.
We've all been to the cross-roads,
where temptation seems a friend …
Through love, faith and prayer
God wins out in the end.
I can hear the silence again
I can take back the time to think, to feel, to just
breathe.
I have held out my hand to slow down time
and I have floated back down to myself
returned to my body for a while, you see;
I am here just on loan.
I dont know if I can lose myself again,
lose myself to the fear of living, fear of the inevitable, fear of pain inescapable
so I think I'm just gonna ride on out on this illusion wave
and, you know-
If you find a rock to cling to, and it breaks away suddenly, and you find another
rock to cling to,
and it also uproots itself as well,
and you feel uneasy without solid ground
you gotta just learn how to be at ease with floating
till you gather the courage to fly away
into the unknown
and pardon my sudden departure.
but the next flight is at 12 sharp
and its already a quarter to midnight
The Crossroads of Life
The crossroads of life—fate!
And there you wait
For the sign that presents forth the goals—
That will guide your destiny.
The phrase is synonymous with challenge,
Bold adventure, and decision-making
In achieving greatness,
Or to be the best that you are.
And yet, you hesitate.
What will people think?
How will you get ahead?
This response, you believe
To be both rational and precise,
Is cowardly.
When opportunity knocks, you procrastinate!
This action deprives your soul of fuel
By exaggerating fear with excuses,
Thereby avoiding the truth of consequences.
Case law has established precedents.
The name will stand
In the books unembellished,
Based on facts of articulate arguments
Waged in the courtroom in the presence of peers.
***
Note:
“Knight at the Crossroads” is an 1882 painting by Viktor Vasnetsov (1848–1926) that is based on the traditional Russian legend of The Three Journeys of Ilya Muromets. The artist depicts the hero in a moment of reflection before a menhir:
“If you go to the right, you will lose your horse; if you go to the left, you will lose your life; if you go forward, you will lose both!”
On earth, how to cleanse our soul
To make the cloth of reputation white
At most we can only achieve this goal
When filled the neighbors mind with lies
What we are, at most hidden
Will never let them see
We tricked our neighbor to believe in
On what we seem to be
Of every man who tell the world
That they've found the hills of truth
Can't climb with them, my feet to their wisdom hurled
Simply I've learned a lot from my youth
Can we cast away the sins
On human claimed holy words
Or just we hide unto the book
To cover our shame on this world
At A Crossroads Poet, Hears That True Call,
dedicated, to my friend with appreciation
At a crossroads poet, finds waiting pen
beneath dust that hides wiles of evil men
ink then cast forth on an eager blank page
from heartfelt and pure soul of wizened sage.
At a crossroads truths, one can not deny
nor neglect reigning beauty of night skies
as stars twinkle and moonlight bright parades
through wafting breeze and all Nature hath made.
At a crossroads poet, hears that true call
music that inflames passions in us all
for such inspires deep love and gifted hands
with verse from far above, our earthly lands.
At a crossroads, where sincere life one lives.
Soul rests free within, writes sweet words to give.
Robert J. Lindley,10-04-2019
Sonnet, ( How poetry oft inspires other poets )
(dedicated to Besma Riabi Dziri, inspired by
my reading of Besma's exquisite poem, titled
"At A Crossroads A Poet Is Born" )..........
O, Dear Lord
Give me the
strength for
today, give
me courage
for this day
let only tran
quility leave my lips and let only serenity dwell in my heart
Lord help me to accept the past, the present and the future
and help me to surrender all my past fragmented memories
all my grief, and sorrow, and regret and failures, let me put
it all in your
arms, so I
can let go
thank you
for being
a rock and
anchor and
holding my
hand when
I whisper
I am afraid
carrying me
when I am
broken and
nothing can
destroy my
faith in you
oh see my
tears Lord
these are,
my, falling
tears, tears
___________________
September 22, 2021
Poetry/Shape/Crossroads
Copyright Protected, ID 09-1390-456-22
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Crossroads
sponsor, Kim Rodrigues, Judged 10/16/2021
First Place
God sent
His Son
To die on
The cross.
He took the sin of the whole world on His
Sinless shoulders and died for me, for you,
For everyone. He shed His last drop of blood,
Oozing love, forgiveness till His final breath.
The good
News is –
the stone
Has rolled
from the
grave, it’s
Empty now.
My Saviour
Has risen,
He is alive,
WAITING
For you to
Accept Him.
Today, you
Have this
CHANCE.
Choose Him.
At the crossroads of years, where stones whisper for centuries,
Inside unfolds the mystical drama of the self seeking light,
Through mazes of thoughts like leaves rolling towards truth.
Thirsty souls gaze towards the sky, begging for drops of eternity,
On the edges of doubts, gardens grow - guardians of lost meanings,
A journey to the core, where shadows are fragments of incomplete answers.
There are valleys where echoes intertwine with the whispers of ancestors,
Under the vault, a chorus rises, a melody of boundless quests,
A sacred song - only the heart carries in prayer, spread by the birds of silence in their flight.
In the inner temple, at the unseen altar, unspoken hopes burn,
In jewels of darkness, the brightest flames take shape,
And each falling star is a devotion, a metaphor of the hidden, ignited dream.
The mysteries of underground rivers embroider a river of consciousness in the depths,
Sketching in sacred caves icons of thought, the holy mirage of wisdom,
And each rock from which water bursts forth is an altar, a gateway to infinity.
The seeds of reality get lost in the sands of time, on the path of initiation,
A carousel of meanings spinning among the stars, in a dance of wordless songs,
And when night shares with day the cosmic secret of passage,
Mystical auroras reveal that the true journey is not towards the peak,
But in the spiral of inner ascent, the mystical ascension of being.
At this altar, the unknown reveals itself to you, and finally,
You remain with your name carried on the lips of the wind,
In the siren's song of the infinite, weaving a mystical refrain,
Though its sparkle is hidden from worldly eyes,
What grows in every soul is a never-ending story,
Narrated in the silent language of the heart - this is the hymn of those who journey within.