Best D S Poems
~Clouds~
(Hop-Scotch)
Clouds are nice and take many shapes
If you don't believe take a look
They travel fast and can reshape
Clouds I see like a picture book
Sometimes see angels or an ape
Observe in sky they can't escape
They're great to watch from site or nook
Clouds fantastic God's creation
Benefit man are here to stay
They're like marshmallows in motion
Moving fast or slow in clear day
They look so soft and bring emotion
Clouds bring rain can cause commotion
But they're fun to watch any way.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2012
October.13.2016
Across the length and breath
Of humour land,
None so far has touched
hearts
in
A close interplay of service
and humour like you did
A gem is gone across
the river
But lives touched
still evoke
Subdued laughter
in whispers
Because laughter is
gone with the
Wind of eternity.
Adieu! My friend
Your theatrical jokes embraced
by friends and foes
Are ever living reminder's
of the embers
Of living humour that once
graced these
Shores,
These dour friend less land.
Though present no more,
But entrenched in my heart
and many also,
the jokes, the humour,
the mannerisms' all embodied
In the One and Only
Quintessential
D. S. Ngashang
No cry,
joy.
Your joy…
Now…
Brook flown now,
No cry, only joy.
Flow now brook; flow now by joy.
F=Faithful
R=Randomness
I=Interesting times
E=Excellent people
N=Nearby
D=Dangerously goofy
S=Spectacular
A.I.D.S is a virus that does not care,
If your black, white, gay or straight.
There is no way that we can run from this deadly disease that has become,
A weapon of death and suicide for men and women of all kind.
Can you give me one word or pray,
For all the women and men who have suffered and shared,
The pain and agony of death and defeat for they are the ones who have lead this
evil deed.
They ask for just one thing,
And that is to cured.
Is that a request that you can ignore?
Moonlit pool -
Icy, wintry
Ignoring my buoy
Ignoring my will
No control
I jump in
Boggy, limp, put out
For you
But you point
You run
My tomorrow -
Forlorn
Lowly I bow
In my icy, wintry
Moonlit pool
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
Eighth place in No Heads or Tails Contest (Jan. 2012)
Vying buck running, rutting,
Crying wolf crooning, yowling.
Prowling puppy pouncing poking.
Nipping nuzzling nibbling.
Quirky bug buzzing by,
Funny frog wooing, wowing,
Witty owl winking, primping,
Blitzing cockcrow crowing.
Morning moon wincing winking,
Twinkling-twirling tinting
Pink puffy fog, coloring
Glibly, gifting until morning –
© January 4, 2011
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: H-E-A-D-S OR T-A-I-L-S!
Sponsored by: nikko palmario
I've been whining for years
And I know you'll agree
That it's now safe to say
It sucks ... to be me
gentle words I hear
but when written they appear
to burn and to sear.
BUT
misunderstandings
can all be erased if we
say "I am sorry."
Unsounded minds
whispered twice,
Unopened minds
blinked twice,
Unresolved minds
fought twice,
Unclouded minds
fathomed twice.
Distorted minds
twisted twice,
Disproportionate minds
measured twice,
Disinterested minds
yawned twice,
Disintegrated minds
shattered twice.
Inculcated minds
nodded twice,
Inconclusive minds
repeated twice,
Inexplicable minds
questioned twice,
Irrepressible minds
damned twice.
Loose bird
in huge aviary
lives trapped and unhappy...
Captive bird
in the green field
lives freely and
blissfully
DAYLIGHT SAVING TIME
set ahead your clock
one hour ahead you set
you lose hour rest
d s t what's this
it means day light saving time
set ahead your clock
you lost sleep oh, well
you can get the hour back
in October month?
3/11/18
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2018
Gentle as the sunlight,
Reflecting hope over snow covered ground,
Softening the heart and soul…
With a soothing whisper,
The kiss of kindness, blissful – healing,
Wistful memories, silent dreams
All the blessings, the many things…
That make up a lifetime, timeless truths
Creative gestures, faith that moves…
Mountains and fluid motion
Water rushing past the beds of smooth
Stones, erasing the past with a heartfelt
Caress
Breathless prayers promising,
Echoing grace through the surface of a Spring
Arising in the emotional beauty, the lasting
Smiles of intimacy, shrugging off…
The last of the snow’s biting
Urging the wonders of glittering shimmers
Stirring up feelings of cold, dark December
With the songs of praise, the music
Wiping away the last of a nocturnal grip
Who feels like doubt pressing in…
Leaving only the feeling that stirs
Promises and pleas, petitions
For peace, praising – worship that flows
From a soul who knows – B L E S S I N G S
Warm as the morning, a dawn
Sighing – like the forgiving winds of Summer
Smiling on the shoulders, kissing away
The wild, willful waters of the rainy season
Flooding the spirit with reconciling feelings
Kindnesses, rich and vibrating…
Trembling like the silence
Who blends away the screams of doubt,
Welcoming the hues of happiness
In the sunlight, streaming –
Wiping out the clouds, the wistfulness
The melancholy and fear, tears – like dewy
Hopes caressing the flowers
Enchanting, fascinating… beguiling each
Moment with pearls of joy
Impulsive, stars shimmer and glisten,
Like the Autumn who dims the thoughts,
Aspires to create awe in the heart
Who sees its elegance, its gratitude and mercy…
Restoring the night’s burning
Flames of repentance, duty to the rumors of agile
Wispy light falling heavily from a moon, glowing
Silvery frost through the intense specter –
Liberty, a candor threading its way past the trees
Into the wonders of a forest…
A forest who believes, accepts the second chance
To bring serenity through the settling urge…
From rainfall undertones
To thankful treasures from the spice of November
Listen to the glowing hope – the faith
In Thanksgiving’s adoration … thanks to Him,
The One who gave us the miracles, the peace…
The G O D S E N D S
Words spreading across the page,
limitless in their power, yet completely
reliant on achieving one goal.
In failing, they seep into the paper
lost as more words steal the limelight,
shattered aspirations crack as they are trampled.
Dedication. Followed by forlorn drooping characters.
Did you ever know delighted letters could feel so mournful?
Who knew painting wilted whispers could dash the world
into so many pieces, darken the mind's playground?
Defenseless phrases left to rot in the molded closet
covered in dust. Blackness creeping over the ink.
Overpowered by the still air.
Being a writer is a curse.
Being a poet is a death sentence.
There is never enough words to fill the fountain,
even if the stack reaches the mold.
Wildly wonderful whacky ideas
Oscillating ordinary objects
Recreating reinventing rejuvenating
Developing deliriously delightful dendrites
Striving for succulently sassy sentences.