Best Declines Poems


Premium Member One Moment In the Morning

Through the brambles of the arbor's vine,

an artist has spinned some silver lace

This net was cradled over leaves

slung low, and wet with dew.


Evidence was left in place,

a hammock swings as if on cue

Crocheted with skill and flair

to glisten in the sun


Breeze trembles every curl and lair

and takes the breath from you


Light fondles strands of pearls it wears

as the spider rests, .. to view.

While the agile trace of light declines,

the fragile morning soon unwinds

and wears a lace of new design


........................................................

2/25/16
Categories: declines, nature,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Task

The old screen door still welcomes me, a familiar song I've heard before..
But oddly now, it's out of tune.  It has a wail of some despair
After this,...who'll pass this way?
Will they use the rug and wipe their feet, erase away the grime or sleet?
Or will they even care?

I feel my pulse and lungs collide, then take a breath and step inside
I've been asked to come, to clear the house
To organize, and set it right…
But it all seems wrong…. 
To trespass on the throne of life
that was softly lived, behind a gate where thirsty roses bloom and wait…

I hesitate….
to disturb the lace on drop-leaf tables…
Disgrace the quiet of the gloom
To open drawers, snoop and sort, ….a pruning, 
of the good, the used, from worn and torn
My hands are able, but my heart declines..
what isn’t mine, to toss, to find, to mark, and label…

She had lived alone, the last to go, 
one somber dawn, in the old brownstone. 
Without a hint her time was near
But silently, without fanfare, death tiptoed in and closed the door,
beyond the path that brought me here

Echoes of her old straw broom
swept years away from every room 
The dust motes in the window light
now spark and light each memory…
Soft treadle sounds from sewing hems, are recalled by the August wind,
that rattle windows, shaking blooms, in this waning afternoon

There are questions I would like to ask,
but I can’t recall just what they were
No matter now….with no one here
I must keep focused on my task…
Keep sorting, tagging,  tossing, clearing…

How strange it is, how odd it seems,
the last thing found, brown paper bound
was tucked away, and gently loved.
Her china cup, her favorite one, so lovely in my hand,
would last beyond her grave, intact

Long shadows have closed the afternoon.  
A letting go, and a fading sun
My task is done. And I must go
I'll keep the cup, and hold it close
It's a witness to a world unknown

Some fragile things are never gone
Categories: declines, death, friendship, loss, love,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member To My Beloved

My Dear....

Do you know?
How empty is our home, when you are gone? 
Another evening fades, another day declines
How silent are these walls, when you're away
Even in the quiet, I feel the comfort of your presence
    The mantel clock is ticking, with face that seems to mock me...
         I watch the embers glow...., each room that seems to know...
            The ticking sound the only song, until your arms embrace me                            
                Do you know,.... how I miss you so?....

The night is cold
     It seems to freeze the words I cannot find
I look beyond the window glass....
    My eyes beseech the moon
        Perhaps the moon will search the stars
             for words beyond my reach

I sit alone, the night is dark
      A lifeless pen in hand 
          Where are the words I seek?
Where do I start?  How can the phrase begin?
How does one express the joy....the peace inside one's heart?

While I stumble, my foolish hesitation over choice
         I have no voice...
             No words.....the breath of me
                 Cannot find the verse
                      The rhythm could be no worse...
                               To make these words come out just right

Or have you always known?
      Our love so pure, so sweetly grown
           On summer days, or winter nights
                No other arms could be so warm, so gentle, the place I call my own
                    Though I am alone, your gentleness will carry me to sleep tonight
                       As it has on every night
                           How I long to only have you home again....
Where does one find the way?
       A way to say the sacred words....
            So the whole world could know....

                How I love you so?   Come home, my love, come home....


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For Audrey's Sentimental Love Letter
Categories: declines, devotionwords, night, love, me,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Morning Dew

When morning dew holds moonlight’s shine
    It’s glistened blush as night declines
    Unveiled by daybreaks grand display
  As breeze blows soft, a shimmered sway

   Clear lunar nights are brushed sublime
When morning dew holds moonlight’s shine
        All objects basking in its glow
   Gleam with a textured, raised plateau

  From deep within the moon’s soft beam
      A gentle kiss to daylight’s stream
When morning dew holds moonlight’s shine
    It sings like night and day combined

   That sparkled glint on morning’s brow
   A diamond’s hue the moon’s endowed
  Can reach your heart when eyes inclined 
When morning dew holds moonlight’s shine
© David Mohn  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: declines, moon, morning,
Form: Quatern

The Ivy and the Brick

It must have felt like love at first,
The clinging of the ivy vines,
Until his rich red heart had burst.

Her tendrils slaked an ancient thirst,
The tender touch for which he pined.
It must have felt like love at first.

Too guileless to suspect the worst,
She speared him with her soft green tines.
Until his rich red heart had burst.

Her coils so patiently she pursed,
He never guessed at her design.
It must have felt like love at first.

Crazed with cracks, its strength dispersed,
From end to end the wall declines
Until his rich red heart had burst.

So new to love, so poorly versed
In joy, so baffled by her signs,
It must have felt like love at first.
Until his rich red heart had burst.
Categories: declines, allegory, heart, red, heart,
Form: Villanelle

Premium Member In the Land 'O Green

Sun declines, beneath the emerald rim
And I'll be headin' home...
to a cottage in the moor lands 
with a fire to warm me' bones

The kettle of beans are boilin'
and some coals will bake me scones
I will rest my weary shoulders
And be glad for what I've seen

I've witnessed bracken turn so reddin'
like a wildfire on the mountain
And wee nanny goats on hillsides,
too many now, for countin'

Heather waves in summer breezes...
Granite stones, and bogs of grass,
water gleams like shining glass
and harshness blows for but a reason
to turn around the seasons
Thar' be wavin' sails upon the blue
And leafy shamrocks on the green 
Where rugged shores, and seagulls cry,
and pink skies capture me

Friendly folks be bearin' ruddy cheeks,
There's a colleen, fair thee lass
Who will tip our mug at village pub, 
And we'll make a toast to Patrick's kin
and order one more glass

Let me always sink me' Irish eyes  
upon the rugged land
Upon the skies, upon the streams, 
where druid legends live
Upon the grand home of the clan, 
where many roots began

Where the ole' pale moon at nightfall, 
scatters me memories all a'glowing
Of fair thee rose of old Tralee,
over garden trellis growin' 

Charming valleys, greener hillsides,
fill thee heart of all 'me clan
Pick ye' a shamrock.... look for gold, 
shake yer' hands with leprechauns
Kiss a Blarney stone in sweet Killarny, 
come to all that's home to me
Where names of O'Reily, or McDougal sprung
and the color green began

________________________________________________
Categories: declines, green, home, me, places,
Form: Free verse


Premium Member Denser Not Mensa Part 1- Collaboration

An old gal applied to join Mensa
Gee she couldn’t be any denser
She went in the wrong door
On the thirty third floor
And there she enrolled as a fencer

When attending her first fencing class
A man scored a hit on her huge ass
She screamed out so loud
It drew quite a crowd
She cannot abide failure – its crass!

WRITTEN BY JAN ALLISON


She hollered and screamed for a medic
I swear it was worse than a dead duck
one without any wings
oh the horror she sings
she's much more than dense she's pathetic

WRITTEN BY TIM SMITH

She swore that she really could spell 
And in math she did surely excel 
But once she felt pain
All she did was complain 
And whined as her sore butt did swell.

WRITTEN BY CHRIS GREEN

That old gal then became a method actor
but one thing soon became a huge factor
she forgot all her lines
her mentality declines
now she sputters like a John Deere tractor

WRITTEN BY LIN LANE

Her butt was so sore she bought leeches
Gently placing them in her breeches
To suck out the bruise
We could hear her oooh's
I felt sorry for the poor creatures

Her butt was so big like a whale
all that was missing was it's tail
so they stuck a flag up her ****
called it the new Khyber pass
she went a whiter shade of pale.

WRITTEN BY SEREN ROBERTS

"Am I smart?" is what she kept asking
In glory she hoped to be basking.
Suddenly she farted.
The whole room departed.
Now finding fresh air is their tasking.

WRITTEN BY DALE GREGORY COZART

She sat for the test with all smiles
Filled out the forms and the files
But she spelled her name wrong
Became twisted of tongue
And was thrown to the crocodiles.

WRITTEN BY RICHARD D SEAL


07-17-17

Seems the old gal was a talented tart
Clearing the room with but one single fart
Wiping their eyes
All those wise guys
Soundly applauded her flatulent art

WRITTEN BY LIM'RIK FLATS

07-18-17
Categories: declines, humorous, irony,
Form: Limerick

Written In the Time of Something

“Written in the Time of Something”



“Insignificant you are, don’t you know, this is the time of Nothing.” She said.
“I am?” I replied.
“In the time of Something, you will read, what is the Becoming. Believe.” She said

“What then?” I questioned the solemn silence.
“Perdition.” She responded."For a little while, in Insignificance." She Said.
“It's in the blood, don't you know? It is written by slow minds, insignificantly, the stories are read by their fast declines”. Someone said.

“Never by I.” I said.
“I am quick, I am clever, I am hidden in the Never.” She said.
"True. The story that matters, is unseen." He said.

“The minds behind the eyes reading  - are disjointed, ambiguous, exploring, out of time”, he said.
“But will they find what they are asking in their writing, their questions in their minds, finally answered?” she said

“Maybe in the time of Something.” He said
"Maybe." She said.

Written and very well read.

(LadyLabyrinth/ 2020)




"Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby"/ Cigarettes After Sex
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rXIIAvd3w

"Affection"/Cigarettes After Sex
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QI8VrXkffcg








"Affection"/ Cigarettes After Sex/ LRYICS:
https://www.cigarettesaftersex.com/lyrics-affection
Categories: declines, inspiration, romance, trust,
Form: Romanticism

Premium Member Withdraw

Life's circumstantces can overwhelm,
make me forget who I am or where I stand.
At these times, quiet calls me as shelter,
its silence a compelling, healing nectar,
and I disappear from even all I favor.

In a life rush of too much, I often withdraw
from all possible joys as well as quarrels.
As I absorb, I am a raw edged jigsaw,
seclusion pledged until comes my thaw,
for I am lost in the limp task of absorbing
and I am a mute mind and heart exploring.
I never love anyone less than my total
and radiate my love to all like a shiny opal
though I am immobile and non-verbal.

Some pains are too heavy for me to cart
so, I lose my personable shine
and my ability to interact declines.
But I love, yes, I love, my family and friends -
I love them all, with all my love, with no love end.
Categories: declines, anxiety, change, conflict, confusion,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Sweet Release

It all began in innocence:
A glass of wine, or was it three?
Euphoria and sweet release
That set this thing inside me free.

The very nectar of the gods
splashed forth, producing mirthful joy.
To loose the tongue, the stiffness too,
Give liquid courage to the boy.

And so it was, the hook was set,
yes, thus began the long descent.
Slow journeying from light to dark,
Insidious, malevolent.

The tale is one that’s sordid, long;
it does not happen overnight.
By steps, by turns, one finds oneself
unable to resist, to fight.

The years went by; the first were good,
except the excess: always there.
Then later, shocking none but self,
one’s lost capacity to care.

There was no God, or so I thought;
I scoffed at those who did believe.
In secret, doubt, anxiety,
And no way to obtain reprieve.

I had no outlet or escape,
So I would run for miles and miles,
And run and run and never stop,
except at stores with beverage aisles.

I had this hole that could be filled,
Or so I thought, with alcohol.
My go-to brand was Steel Reserve
‘cause it was strong and cheap and tall.

Twelve-pack a day for endless years,
Yet wondered why things weren’t alright.
The nightly stupor, morning tears,
And long since gone, that first delight.

You hate yourself; this is your lot.
You push away your friends, your wife.
That drain you circle: very close.
It’s what you got; this is your life.

And though you’ve kept a job somehow,
Your work declines; you’re pretty good,
Still doing more than most you know,
But far, far less than you once could.

Your kids, you can’t look in the face.
Pride chips away a notch each day.
They know what’s up; you’re a disgrace.
Time passes thus, just slips away…

And then one day… you hear a voice;
It’s coming from between your ears.
My conscience died long years ago.
The voice of God? That’s cause for fear…

“Your life’s a mess, now go get help!”
And so I did, outside of me.
From there, it seems the heavens part;
A sweet release, my eyes can see.

I often wonder why a God
Whom I despised would call on me,
But that’s a joy He loves to do:
To find the captive, set him free.
© Jeff Kyser  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: declines, addiction,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Recital

Recital / free verse / Pride

Expectation rushes in
As her silent walk begins
All eyes staring
Watching for a hint of emotion
But none revealed
As she takes her place among the muses

No one breathes as her studious eyes
Examine the two-dimensional codes
Then silence breaks
As both hands spring into fantastical dance
On an ever changing ivory and ebony stage

Mellifluous tones, conspicuously full and rich,
Transport all on an uplifting emotional journey
Ears, minds, hearts and lungs
Feasting on delicious pabulum of spirit

Soon tortuous movements diminish
The fantastical dance declines
With final notes
Striking harmonious chords
Deep into our psyche
Our ethereal journey ends
And we gently land where we began

She pauses, then rises
To a cacophony of applause
All eyes staring
Watching for a hint of emotion as she exits
But none revealed
Save a quick glance & brief smile
Acknowledging her proud parent's pounding hearts
Misting eyes and beaming faces


Recital / tanka / Pride

smooth operator
flawless rhapsody in blue
climax conclusion
cacophony of applause
with proud parents’ pounding hearts
© Mark Toney  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: declines, daughter, music, parents, pride,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Autumn Chill

Seventeen skiffs and boats tethered 
In twos and threes on the river Thames 
With their canvas winter shrouds 
And rows of seagulls perched on each,
Almost perfectly aligned,
Heads towards honeysuckle skies 
Where low winter's sun declines,
Reflected in cold silver flow.
Close by them a solitary heron stands 
Stationed on a gunwale,
Some feathers ruffled by a river breeze.
This beholder sees the autumn beauty 
And foreboding of a winter's shiver 
With its wretched frost and freeze.
Categories: declines, autumn, beauty, river,
Form: Free verse

When One is Heartbroken

A significant relationship ends,
Causing loss of a part of one's future;
Wasting a routine and a profound sense
Of attachment that needs a mental cure.

Mind in terrible shock and disbelief
Declines to accept the reality;
Intense sadness increases the deep grief,
Where heart no longer beats with joy and glee.

Frustration fiercely assaults the sad soul,
Bitterness and blame bombard the spirit;
Anger and resentment ruin the whole,
Crushing it to pieces without limit.

Attempts to negotiate start to bargain,
But this fantasy doesn't stop the wrath;
Reappearance of scenarios brings pain,
Erasing hopes to shift the aftermath.

In the period of emotional lows,
Coming to terms refuses to be killed;
When stream of everyday depression flows,
Growth begins to move forward to rebuild.
Categories: declines, heartbroken,
Form: Rhyme

Heart Block

I open my heart and let the poison in.
I don't notice it when it first begins.
But then little things begin to occur.
It's now to late for any cure.
I try to ignore these simple signs
I just sit back as the relationship declines.
Now it hurts so much I can no longer ignore.
My legs give way I fall to the floor.
I cry so much I soak the floor.
I wish the truth I had never found.
I hate this pain It hurts so much
I must stop it never be touched.
So I seal my heart In this musty tomb
Hoping someday I can heal these wounds.
Maybe then I can reach out again
And hope to find A loving hand.
Categories: declines, faith, life, loss, lost
Form:

Premium Member A Man Called Joe

Lost in the past, my thoughts collide,
how one so gallant could survive
three wars.  He braved them, death- defied,
and left his place in history

Yet, time would take his breath away,
without fanfare, one winter's day
Death's coldest draft came through these floors,
and took more than a glimpse of him.

It now seems wrong, to come right in,
to trespass on the throne of life,
quietly lived beyond a fence,
where thirsty rows of cornstalks wait,
like sentries at a soldier's wake

I hesitate, to disgrace the gloom 
open the drawers,  to snoop, and sort
The pruning through the worn and torn.
My hands are able, but my heart declines
what isn’t mine, to toss, to find, to mark, and label

Whispered breaths, like weaving looms,
are stories that he told me then.
And how he watched his children play...
The ones who never came again,
to see him at the very end.

The dark descends, and I must go,
but some of him remains, I know
in every shadow of this room.

I'm glad I knew the man called Joe


_____________________________________________
1/13/15  For Giorgio's Contest: "Sketch a Character"
By Carrie Richards
Categories: declines, bereavement, dedication, friend, friendship,
Form: Iambic Pentameter
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