Best Crowded Poems
Beauty is something we see
with individual eyes,
deep within our soul,resides
attraction,waiting ,asleep
yet longing to be aroused;
Our need to be recognised,
a desire to recognise,
reciprocate and hold close
subtle scents,inherent and
so universally held;
A certain something unique,
intercourses between eyes,
a novel read by a glance
in seconds,might last a lifetime
indelibly imprints,love;
Only time,can reveal
imperfections of conceit,
when ego retreats and
aborts the frail foetus in
pools of recrimination.
Wilderness is a crowded street.
Silence stings the ears of the hearer,
Cacophony of sound, unheard.
Loneliness turns to solitude,
Converse without a word.
Wilderness is a crowded street.
A passer-by nobody sees.
Togetherness now disjointed,
Run! I feel their disease.
Money is their mind set
Full wallet yet they're poor.
A heart of gold inside me,
Theirs, an open sore!
Some own the World, yet are bankrupt,
Emotionally discharged black-holes.
Shiny shoes that point to nowhere,
Prices, still on their soles.
All the broken people,
Nobody tells me why.
Orphaned, divorced, mistaken,
I'll not lay down to die.
To roll over and just take it,
Is what they'd like us to do.
So let's all speak out, be counted,
Not be part, of the Zoo!
I walk through this world alone,
Yet it's still so crowded.
All around people wander.
To them, I am the air they breathe.
I cannot be seen, but I keep them living.
I walk among them silently.
Speaking would break their trance,
They would see the truth.
Their eyes scan the area around,
I am in their vision radius, yet I cannot be seen.
I have done enough to keep them from seeing me.
They may look in my direction, but never long enough to see me.
This is the minimum amount I can do.
They are all interfering with peace.
Killing, arson, thieving, arguing.
These are all signs of evil,
Evil which I avoid.
To bring myself down to their level,
The thought in general is against what I stand for.
I am alone to live life how I want,
To thrive in knowledge and experience.
They thrive in evil and sin.
This is the disease in our world.
I stay away for my well-being.
I can never have what I don't accept,
Instead I choose to live healthy and in peace.
This is how my world works.
A world where I thrive and they sink,
Where I live and they die,
Where I bless and they sin,
Where they crowd and I alone,
Live to seek out a cure for this world's disease.
I live alone in this world,
Yet it's still so crowded.
Graceful flamingo flocks prance into spring,
And trees budding green host hordes on a wing.
In pine trees, squirrels scamper to sunshine,
And dragonflies and blooms grace the tree line.
Crickets chirp whole summer nighttimes away,
Then vast herds of elk run all through midday.
Butterfly bliss means pink mass migrations,
While enthralling people teem proud nations.
Through mountain meadow, vale, forest and sea,
Spring's bursting all over, warm and carefree!
Written on 3/21/2021
For: Rhyming Couplets Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Janice Canerdy
Sitting absolutely alone
In a round room of riled people
My brain feeling dry as a bone
Staring at a silent steeple
They’re sleeping upon a hill there
In a shadowed silent graveyard
Still, just resting lacking a care
The smooth granite stones standing guard
Charming clouds floating close above
The sounds of calling gulls and surf
No competing or push and shove
In a plot of well trimmed green turf
Safely absent from the rat race
With constructed reality
With make believe smiles on each face
Sleeping through perpetuity
A seldom soft fleeting footfall
Leaving intermittent flowers
Stopping for a tad to recall
Then receding like spring showers
Smiling, I return to the room
The backbiting and bickering
Critical deadlines that still loom
People fretting about nothing
~~~ {There's a crowd, there's a crowd, there's a crowd of
loneliness} ~~~
Here I sit surrounded by party people bizz, buzzing gleefully.
But I'm in the pits down in my zone, So I can only see me.
Thus, death to the chit chatty tones and slurred speech.
For their voices become catty echoes far from ears reach.
Got up to walk down beaming streets stepping hip to side
unable to speak.
Gulping squawk sounds, of steaming weeps ebbing, drip and slide
down unstable cheeks.
Can't hold back forsaking eye contact my prides' destroyed
as I try to avoid the grandstand of gaudy faces, gaudy
clothes; of hand to body collision. For lonely teardrops
cloud my vision.
~~{I wish it would rain, I wish it would rain,.....
I would sing it if I could sang}~~~
Head butting and unsorted collides. Zombie strutting in
morbid strides. In search of a safe haven. A wide
divide's what I'm craven, of needed segregation to hide
in heeded dissociation.
Joyful laughter, gleeful merriment and happiness all
about. While my lungs fill with hot winds pressed
against my chest in demand to be let out.
The voice of silence, the quiet stillness of the night.
The pains of yearning for thee with all my might.
Curse the agony of my plight.
~~~{Can I please, can I please put my mind at ease}~~~
Where art thou, Oh shelter... Ye place of refuge? Do
not leave my spirit to wilt and welter. Grant my soul
your peace and grace. Nae of down pouring tears deluge.
In my sorrowful demotion to bear the toil of these
boisterous turmoil secures the coiled and shrouded
aloofness of my crowded loneliness.
~~~ {There's a crowd, there's a crowd, there's a crowd of
loneliness} ~~~
Supreme balance is a hand toss.
Today it is I who bear the cross.
On a crowded bus I watch
A tide of texting thumbs.
No one young’s immune –
It seems that everyone succumbs.
Older folk read papers
Or a magazine or book;
Many simply close their eyes
Or wear a vacant look.
Younger people can’t survive
Without their techno-tools.
Losing them, I fear, would make them
Flail like helpless fools.
Somehow, in the days of old,
Pre-smartphone, way back when,
We occupied ourselves with books
Or paper and a pen.
Or, even better, we could sit
And think or dream or muse;
Trying to explain that now,
I think, would just confuse.
I once was taught that human thumbs
Made us the better beast,
But watching all those texters,
All my admiration’s ceased.
CAN ONE BE ARRESTED FOR SCREAMING "LIAR" IN A CROWDED CHURCH?
You pious people in your pews
All you reading about the arrival of some wondrously good news
A new horizon can’t you see?
Well imagine you were with my wife, beloved daughter and me
We three had left together but suddenly were four
And I’m not certain about much more
Four in the quietude of dripping rain
No one letting go of the pinching pain
because only the rain deserves such disdain
We picked up a hitchhiker as into rough waters we’d wade
And the gentleman told us to please call him ‘Suade’
A human storm by madness made
And then he made us walk blindly through the wood
Until he told us to stay precisely where we stood
in the wilderness it is a mean and uncertain gamble
As you amble through the briars and the brambles
You need to possess a lot of fortitude
Because the icy winds are oftentimes too rude
Suddenly Suede swung with a swipe and that’s when my hope and strength were to fade
He rose up like an oak in a forest of fear and I opposing Suade
A madman, a maniac, a massacre made
And in that infinitesimal and infinite second, although I am a pacifist, I could have killed Suede
Then suddenly the fighting was done
As Suede arose and I just wanted us all to run
And doth did both men huddle close to his opponent
While adding Suede’s scent akin to camel dung to the troubles of his component
There were three of us and he was only one
But the one who wields the power also wields a gun
His mind was set on our flower of a daughter whom he decided to pluck
Now let’s all go out to find her,
yeah, lots of luck
Suddenly he just stole our baby away
Away I say, and gone perhaps for ever and good
Hidden In a new area, in a brand new neighborhood
All we wanted to do was give a ride and fill a need to help the needy
But some men are seedy and too many of them are greedy
His scowl was darkness, his blackish eyes seemed way too dim
And that’s virtually all we can remember of him
While the police find not the culprit in a world of the gross and the grim
My wife and I were defenseless and both our hearts were horrendously hurt
Oh and that’s what brought about the sorrowful phrase an “Amber Alert”
© 2011...Poefree
And so, the homeless have a stake
somehow, the Lord of angels states
to do it unto me ~ my sake
offensiveness I can remake!
A tone, a gesture of impede
a beating by a Mayor's heed
"out of my town", he intercedes
old Crawdad crowded this guy's speed!
Why not impair the lonely soul
or bring to justice, Cops don't know,
they hide the facts, incite control
old Crawdad, able, got to go!
Attorneys, Sheriff, all relate
to ceremonies for their sake,
but when the unknown need a break
it's who gets His, not a fair shake!
Old Crawdad bleeding on the rug
the Mayor shouting "one more tug,
I better quit, my tavern's crowd
might hear my voice, you know I'm proud!"
The Council hushing up the strain
Their tourist season must have gain
without the "bucks" we can't contain
our lifestyle, qualities terrain!
Well, Cop does hinder, warns the town
this can't get out, we'll look like clowns
he was encouraged, Council's row
to make it less, just so and so!
It's sickening, they all shut up
the way they whisper, eyes dropped thin,
no food for Crawdad, housing, stuff
run out of town, that's all of him!
So large or small, vestige the same
keep flowers showing, hide the pain
that flaw of justice must remain
it's whose on first, belittled feign!
Stories not over, Mayor Cain
and Able Crawdad, called the game
he sued the Mayor, lose his shirt
goodies in numbers, stores, the roof!
Not that asunder means get tough
equal's not undermining's bluff,
No Crowded Crawdad, own the town
Homeless have voice ~ their own renown!
Little town Mayor beats up a homeless man in Laundromat and leaves him
bleeding on rug, he goes to Cop, takes report, nothing is done. You see the
Mayor hires your Cop, and had you noticed the coalition here! It's happening
everywhere! Say something! We are not all wandering, homeless!
Walking down a lonely road
Melody inside my head echoed
Passing by all sorts of people,
People passing by me, so strange yet simple
Imagine all the people walking by,
Not caring to notice, just staring blankly at the sky
Yet one of those people might know a secret,
One that you can't see, like a ghost or a spirit
Try going through this magic window
A window of light with curtain of shadow
The miracle of looking beyond the obvious
A land in your mind where creation is countless
Moving by and moving through
What's the difference? I don't know.
Crowded Our Space by Sue k Green
Space
Space sufficient
Sufficient for all
All
All gathered
Gathered in masses
Masses
Masses crowded
Crowded our space
I look across the tables filled with crowds of people and I see cliques, families, and couples. These are structures to me, under constant construction yet fully complete at the same time. There, stands pillars of popularity, supported by many butresses that cling on their every word. They are fastened together with nails of piercing laughter that could as easily be used to harm, but now are used to build up. These towers lack space for the smallest brick to be added, but are open enough to embrace another pillar of popularity equally as grand. I wouldn't fit in there. Near the monuments to 'fitting in', is a family. Facing each other, their backs create a wall that defend the home inside from outside intrusions. The eldest acts as a porticulus welcoming any brick of the same size and shape as the others but still screening out any foreign material from their inclusion. As they look toward each other, they believe that their bricks are all uniform and belong, but their wall is in fact spotted with misfit bricks and splatters of clashing paint. I wouldn't fit in there. By the window is a young couple, a pair of awkward and new pieces of lumber that don't match each other at all, yet they are cut to the same length. They are trying to glue themselves together and are under the false impression that the only way to do this is to leave absolutely no space between each other. The glue is fresh and the piece of lumber are not used to being adheased, but they are still fresh and plyable and they are intent on building their relationship. Given time, they too will become walls encircling homes with a heavy gate of their own. I wouldn't fit in there.
No one sits by me
I am better off alone
Here, by empty seats
It's okay. I'm alright, because from this vantage point I can observe. I see the groups and hear their conversations. I don't need to be a butress for one of the pilars of popularity. I don't need to be carved into the right shape for another wall. I don't need to impede the construction of a new building. I am content here, out of the way, surrounded by empty seats.
A star spangled sky,
an illuminated pathway,
a world full of people and
a room echoing with laughter .
Yet I yearn for just one star to fall for me,
one lamp to light my way,
one person in a crowd of millions and that smile which will take all my tears away.
Clutching to the moments which were so few,
racing back to the time which was too good to be true.
I have waited for an eternity for you and
now again I stand here wishing and waiting for you to make my dreams come true!
Time will cease to move and words will have no meaning.
My love for you will never come to my lips but will find it's way to my eyes and trickle down my cheeks.
I have a thousand ways to do this and
another thousand to do that
but when you will meet me again
I won't have a single way to say how much I love you!
Who owns
These faces
I see in this
Crowded bus?
Our Lagos
Squires or slums?
Hopeful eyes
Squint as smews!
Scarfed
Capped
Bald
Bared
Heads flow
On mobile necks.
Yes!
Dry joy squats
Lifeless
On these faces
As elephant husks.
Arrayed in apparels
Shabby as pigs
Tho’ some gorgeous
Neat as eagles
These beings
Headed towards
Mile Two
O, Mile Two
Of all places!
But where exactly
Are we coming from?
And where exactly
Are we going to?
Crowded rooms, though full, know many lonely hearts.
Smiling guests mingle; laughing, dancing, they sing.
Imaginary friends strange solace imparts.
Nonetheless, loneliness grips its painful sting.
All around cupid’s arrows take aim; love starts.
Sadly, upon the friendless there is no ring.
It had happened many times over and again.
Thank God, life and love began as you walked in.
© January 16, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen