Best Daytona Poems


Premium Member Riding Misty

Though Santa never responded to pleas
There was just one gift on my list each year
A horse that could run at the speed of light
A bold little gal; I never had fear

With two high school friends I visited a ranch
To ride in 103-degree heat
Through the bramble bushes and prickly pears
Upon little “Misty” I took my seat

The Mustang Adoption Program’s success
Sparked ranchers from Tucson, Arizona
To give a home to a rust-colored mare
Many miles from my home near Daytona

Cryptic white markings graced Misty’s neck
Looked like words in Native American code
“She’s so small,” I whined, seeking to ride fast
But no matter, to the desert we rode

Even the roadrunners were envious 
When Misty gained speed and hit her full stride
Warp speed!  I clung to the saddle horn
As Misty passed larger horses with pride

My hat fell on a cactus, sweat filled my eyes
My life flashed before me, quite a surprise
It seemed like she had wings as we flew
Don’t be quick to judge a horse by its size

I thank Misty often for the ride she gave me
She fulfilled my dream and gave me a thrill
But on the news today a reporter said
Wild horses would now be rounded up and killed

I’m so grateful I had the chance to ride
A wild horse with spirit and awesome speed
But what will become of her ancestors
Misty’s now part of a vanishing breed



*For Frank's "One Standout Day" contest
by Carolyn Devonshire

Premium Member Son Rise Service

At the joyful sunrise service on Easter morn
On the sands of Daytona Beach no lines are drawn
Worshipers from each Christian denomination
Gather in unison as one congregation

Protestants, Mormons and Catholics in pre-dawn haze
Chorus of voices offering hymns of great praise
As the sun rises here, just as God’s son rose then
For a moment in time, many faiths are brethren

When the first rays of light streak across the ocean
‘Neath glowing pink light, we celebrate Christ risen
Surely God smiles down as all believers embrace,
Celebrate the Resurrection, bask in His grace

Good will is conveyed as heartfelt pledges are made
That the love displayed on Easter will never fade
All are soulidified and take this vow seriously
Knowing Christ’s sacrifice heals all humanity

Premium Member A Poet Has a Heart


There were some poets, they lived in gnarled trees.

Creating short comments lists, rapidly as can be.

In that way, they could comment, lickety-split! 

Mundane acronyms, displaying only an empty wit?

You will find these poets next to each poetic creation.

No time for sentences, as if pure damnation?

Or how about one word adjectives from first grade?

So I ceased writing and chose to sit in the shade!

I honestly felt to be as car in the Daytona 500.

Just write to win every contest under the moon.

Hoping poets at my feet, one day might swoon!

A poem is a chance, to deeply connect with another .

Artists who deeply respect the poetry in another!

3/29/2023


Premium Member Daytona Beach Breakers

Down Florida way
Near Daytona Beach
Stays many a lassie
One in my eyes is a peach
 
Breakers on the move
Beach to caress
Bikini clad girl
My eyes are well blessed
 
Shapely and tanned
Toned and refined
Just me and this lassie
To be wined and dined
 
Late night beach stroll
As they enjoy the night
With the sound of the breakers
Just out of sight
 
In a moment of capture
They turn to each other
Gently they kiss
Under starry night cover
 
On the sand they lay
Looking up to the sky
This two together 
Never wondering why
 
Their futures tomorrow
Today they just met
Over a period of time
Eternally set


http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love3.php

Between 2 Cars

My '90 Dodge Daytona sat
Broken down
On Horseblock Road.

We hitchhiked east
To Kelly’s induction,
Embarrassingly tardy.

The trucks were leaving
Ashes were spreading
And 16 people stood
Broken down
Outside the service.

Sean, Laura and I approached.
We made 19
Peers in formal wear
Feuding for space
Between 2 cars. Packed with living friends,
We found our way back home.
Sean’s flag stood through his window,
Guiding and mediating,

So nowadays I try to reason with atheists.
I’ll never forget returning to my Dodge.
It started and drove without a flaw,
And I felt like I had aced a test.

Premium Member Misty's Wild Ride

Though Santa never responded to pleas
There was just one gift I wanted each year
A horse that could run at the speed of light
A bold little gal, I never had fear

With two high school friends, I went a ranch
To ride in 103-degree heat
Through the bramble bushes and prickly pears
Upon little “Misty” I took my seat

The Mustang Adoption Program’s success
Sparked ranchers from Tucson, Arizona
To give a home to a rust-colored mare
Many miles from my home near Daytona

Cryptic white markings graced Misty’s neck
Like words in Native American code
“She’s so small,” I whined, hoping to ride fast
But no matter, to the desert we rode

Even the roadrunners were envious 
When Misty gained speed and hit her full stride
Warp speed!  I clung to the saddle horn
As Misty passed larger horses with pride

My hat fell on a cactus, sweat filled my eyes
My life flashed before me, quite a surprise
It seemed like she had wings as we flew
Don’t be quick to judge a horse by its size



*For Gregory Paul's "Favorite Animal" contest


Sea Grape For Michael

This is not Miami, the real site
of the sea grape.  This is a wannabe--
a biker town, a speedway town.  Not 
the fabled city of Dream Whip clouds
expressed into a flawless sky.   Not
the cool Technicolor dawn when an aging
chick like me could still do her morning
run on Collins, come back home 
to the high rise on the Intercoastal,
where in the mirrored lobby, 
retirees lined up in their wheelchairs 
along a wall to socialize, see
who comes and goes.

Here, in this faux paradise on a Friday, 
morning mass is celebrated in anything but 
Ordinary Time by a Bahamian priest in 
a chasuble the color of winter rye.  There are
no flowers anywhere, only trailing tropicals;
a graceful spider plant with its dangling 
tentacles.  An acolyte brings sacramental vessels 
on a tray, as if to dinner in his own home 
to an altar covered with a simple tablecloth.  
Simplicity...in the elaborate setting of 
the Saint John Basilica, Daytona Beach.

The real home of the sea grape
with its leaves like tennis table paddles
is where a husband hospitalized in Mia
with a failing heart valve lay in
the pre-surgery ICU fighting for breath
as an insensitive nurse brought food
on a tray no way he could eat.

The sea grape is a hardy tree
that reaches for the heights.  My son
in Halifax Hospital is like that: a survivor
of surgery for a metal hip to replace
the one that failed.  Bones---
nemesis of our family, meant to last
but do not.  Unlike the sea grape
whose limbs grown longer,
stronger.  Fail not.
© Nola Perez  Create an image from this poem.

Give Your Life To Christ

I never get tired of being on fire for Christ.
Let hell turn to ice. 
The second coming is close. 
Your an eternity away from being toast. 
The teer from your eye is a light year into life. 
Just don't use a knife. 
Christ payed the price. 
You don't need to shed blood. 
You'll hear a thud. 
You mean something. 
Eat a green bean. 
Your life is worth it. 
You'll regret it. 
This world is mean but if your clean you will be in paradise. 
Christ was sacrafised so we can be pure.
 Its very cruel how this world works. 
The American dream is God's team. 
The winning team. 
Angels are all around you. 
You wear wranglers like Brett farve the Jet carve. 
Or Dale on the rail at Daytona. 
Like Jonah who got eaten by the whale he probably heard a bell. 
Sins are thrown into bins to get recycled. 
Everyone is entitled. 
Pray for another day. 
Pray for a high way. 
Pray for a blue jay. 
Give your life to Christ you won't be sliced. 
You'll spend entirety with God and you may get a hot rod. 
Angels fly. 
We can see the sky. 
Its very high. 
We have love from heaven above.

Premium Member Young Love

I met George one spring day as he cruised by- so SEXY,
     he was a  d r e a m y  dream on a big motorcycle;
and I was so young and at a lovely, fanciful age, a butterfly,
          we spent our days  r i d i n g  the country roads.
our nights under the stars in parks and beaches, KISSING,
     I could not bring him home to my parents;
he was  w i l d  untamed and a free spirit, on SOARING wings,
          and oh was he-   r o m a n t i c.
George was my blue sky and I was so in LOVE with him,
     one day he said to me- lets go to Florida-
          We will leave for Daytona Beach TODAY!
I was thinking of mother and father not approving, hesitated,
     but the idea of the  o p e n   r o a d  was appealing;
          I emptied my bank account,
               packed some stuff in an old backpack,
                    and better  JUDGMENT  left behind in dust, we left.
oh, it was wonderful with the  w i n d  in our faces,
our black leather jackets  FLAPPING  and  the road in front of us;
     we stopped in small towns along the way,
          slept in cheap hotel rooms making  l o v e ,
              I thought this was romance.
We arrived in Daytona Beach and spent two AMAZING weeks,
     nothing fancy, just LOVE that I will never, ever forget.

_______________________________
September 21, 2016

Poetry/ Free Verse/Young Love
Copyright Protected, ID  16-831-609-0
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.

Your Best Free Verse Love Poem - 2
Sponsor,  John Hamilton (2017)

Seventh Place 
___________________________
Love Free Verse
Sponsor, Laura Loo (2016)

First Place

Premium Member Wild and Untamed

I met George one spring day as he cruised by, so sexy
  he was a dreamy dream on a big motorcycle
and I was so young and at a lovely fanciful age, a butterfly
  we spent our days riding the country roads

our nights under the stars in parks and beaches, kissing
  I could not bring him home to my parents
he was wild, untamed and a free-spirit soaring on wings
                                         and oh, so romantic

  George was my blue sky and I was so in love
  one day he said to me, lets go to Florida
          we will leave for Daytona Beach today

I was thinking of mother and father not approving, hesitating
  but the idea of the open road was appealing
  I emptied my bank account that day
  packed some stuff in a old backpack
and better judgement was left behind in our dust as we stormed away

oh, it was wonderful with the wind in our faces and the blue sky above
our black leather jackets flapping in the wind in tune with the soaring roar

   we stopped in small towns along the way
           slept in cheap motels at night
                    oh, it was romantic

we arrived at Daytona Beach and spent two weeks
   nothing fancy like restaurants or shopping
   just an amazing vacation I have never, ever forgotten

          I often think of George and what he is doing, now


________________________________
April 12, 2015


Poetry/Free Verse/wild and untamed
Copyright Protected, ID 04-662-570-12
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France


For the Premier contest, Memorable Vacation, 
sponsor Shadow Hamilton, Judged 05/2015

Second Place

Premium Member Chitty Chitty Bang Bangs and the Flying Car

They are on the final stage 
Of being in their Nascar cage 
Soon they will leave the Daytona sun 
And under the lights this car racing contest will be done 

After putting up with the rain 
It is time to deal with the pit crew game 
Check the gas and the glass 
Along with the discount tires needed to go fast 
Since right on the heels is the Pennzoil shell 
Who is trying to make all this gel 
Pushing a little harder on the pedal made things go 
And Shell Oil was a leader during this east coast happy hour show 
As many laps and miles went by 
Everybody seemed to be enjoying this sunshine state ride 
Kroger might have had a spin and those chocolate candy nuts still wanted to win 
It was on lap 184 that discount tires found themselves headed for the exit door 
There four wheels lost control in this event 
Sending many to the emergency tent. 
When returned the laps were showing only ten 
Oscar Meyer still was on top to defend 
Ketchup and mustard were not needed 
Only some grueling time of something called competing 
Down the wire the seventy-seven set off such a fire 
But nevertheless 
It was the fed express 
Who got there working overtime 
Making sure they were first over the checkered line 
But the show was not over since there was one last out of control car schtick 
Performed as a Nascar trick. 
After finishing the race Oscar Meyer made its case 
Let’s flip the bun 
To see if there is any ketchup left when the stunt is done. 
Up in the air they went 
Coming down feeling really spent. 
At this hour it is in God’s hands and he is in charge 
Of this Nascar star. 
But all in all, the Daytona meet stayed with in the law 
Sending the circus to Las Vegas where they are here to gamble money 
Not the stock car who is there true honey.

Premium Member ''Wild and Untamed''

I met George one spring day as he cruised by, so sexy
   he was a dreamy dream on a big motorcycle
and I was so young and at a lovely fanciful age, a butterfly
   we spent our days riding the country roads

our nights under the stars in parks and beaches, kissing
   I could not bring him home to my parents
he was wild, untamed and a free-spirit soaring on wings
                             and oh so romantic

   George was my blue sky and I was so in love
   one day he said to me, lets go to Florida
               we will leave for Daytona Beach today

I was thinking of mother and father not approving, hesitating
   but the idea of the open road was appealing
   I emptied my bank account that day
   packed some stuff in an old backpack
and better judgement was left behind in our dust as we stormed away

oh, it was wonderful with the wind in ours faces and the blue sky above
our black leather jackets flapping in the wind in tune with the soaring roar

   we stopped in small towns along the way
               slept in cheap motels at night
                     oh, it was romantic

we arrived at Daytona Beach and spent two wonderful weeks
   nothing fancy like restaurants or shopping
   just amazing love that I have never, ever forgotten

                         I often think of George and what he is doing, now

_______________________
April 12, 2015

Free Verse


Submitted to the contest, Romantic Poem (old/new), sponsor, Skat

Ninth Place

Premium Member Just One More Day

Just One More Day

To: My brother Calvin 1948-2003

If I had one more day with you in my life,
I would thank you for imparting so much insight.                   

I would secure our brother Louis to drive us around town without delay
We would watch a movie and walk through a Public Park where kids play               

We would ride downtown, have your favorite lunch, watch people and stare
We would enjoy a tour of Busch Stadium, an interest we all could share                 

We would laugh out loud about the Cardinals being our father’s beloved team  
We would agree to forgive daddy for all the times he appeared to be so mean

In some ways, though not all, one last day together would be sad;               
But we would recall another world, when we were just happy, carefree lads

It would pain us to speak of working hard in cotton fields, when we were boys.    
Then we would speak about the fun times we had, playing with our toys

Perhaps you would share with me one last financial tip,
Because you were outstanding in the field of entrepreneurship

Perhaps we would speak of things on which we debate and disagree,                  or of your thoughts of St. Louis, or Chicago, or even Daytona Beach       

We'd quickly agree to disagree on some things, because there would be so many; and then we’d quietly talk about your tour of duty with the US Army in Germany.  

I would have held ever so tightly to your frail body, saying, “I love you”.  
Then we would sit for a spell on the banks of the Mississippi, taking in one last view.
12102015( Contest, Just One More Day)

Premium Member Thoroughly Modern Grandmas

Though still as loving, still as kind and gentle, still as beautiful as they were in days of yore…
today’s grandmas are a different breed than the grandmas who came before.

Although they still share some similarities…the love they freely give…that twinkle in their eye…
the ways we use to think of grandmas…those old cliches…
to modern grandma’s don’t apply…

Grandmas of old were called Grandma…only Grandma…
at least all the grandmas I ever knew…
today we call them Nana, Gigi, Oma and YaYa just to name a few. 

Grandmas were once characterized sitting in rocking chairs, 
smiling crocheting with other grandmas…their needles kept neatly in a tin…
Today’s grandmas still smile while they sing and dance 
and now…rock any chair they happen to be sitting in. 

Grandmas were known for baking cookies…and driving slow…like they were in a coma…
Today’s grandmas still bake awesome cookies but drive like they’re at Indianapolis or Daytona.

Grandmas were once depicted as old ladies…wearing glasses with their white hair in a bun…
Today’s grandmas let their hair down…and are all about the fun.

We didn’t think old grandmas ever took a drink…
they were too busy knitting…or talking to one another
Today’s grandmas can be found with a cocktail in one hand
and their grand-baby in the other.

Yes, although modern grandmas some new skills and behaviors have amassed
they still share some important qualities…with our grandmas of the past.

Nothing will ever replace the feeling of a Grandma’s hug 
or wonder of a Grandma’s smile…
and love, generosity and caring will never go out of style.

We learned this from our old grandmas…
saw the love and the magic in their resolve….
and isn’t it wonderful to see in our modern grandmas
how that love and magic has evolved.
© Jim Yerman  Create an image from this poem.

Suspended In Time

He was standing there, like a painting by Raphael,
Above a parking garage, for show,
For all to see, behind a bay window,
A forgotten resident of our Daytona Beach Hotel.

And I stared up in awe and dismay,
Stunned, for *Ariadne, in her grand design
A spell in time had placed upon this piano divine;
And to my child I said: “Look! There’s Kay!”

Like you my old friend solitary he waits
Suspended, timeless, his noble frame 
Caught behind the glass; but still a flame
His passion stoked, flooding the gates

Rusted closed. So through the corridors
In search we went, opening every door
Until his dark silent presence I glanced,

And on his battered keys a melody I chanced.
And he, rasping at first, soon his chords laid bare
And his soul released in the deepest of flair.



*Ariadne: my friend Kay associates ‘Ariane’ with a higher power or the hand of fate. (In Greek mythology, Ariadne is associated with mazes and labyrinths because she helped Theseus ‘conquer’ the labyrinth and kill the Minotaur).

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