Best Dedicated Poems
An untouched piano has no purpose,
like a lonely clown without a circus.
A boat has no destiny stuck at shore,
silent like a lion who's lost its roar.
Life is fragile like petals in puddles,
drowning from the adversity of struggles.
A perfect time for poetic lyrics.
The right response to silence critics.
Without poetry life lacks true meaning.
A suicide of speech when ink is screaming.
Scholars are wise, but their words lack beauty,
so rise like the sun, it's our moral duty.
Unleash the fountain of your artistic fire.
Poets are born to weave words which inspire!
guided streams of bright lights few squeeze through a crystal tight sky
colours this nature scene brand new a freshly baked pumpkin spiced pie
a random popsicle purple glaze
a toddler's finger painted blaze
the friendliest of all the river trees
dances calmly with a random breeze
the sun dives into his liquid bronze fate
as the wild plants wave back to placate
daily harmony here come with ease
while humans struggle just to appease
How do I begin to describe you
Such an incredible person
Yet even now you doubt your abilities
You lost your own mum when you were eight - you never ever got over it
You worked all your life, started off by working in a bank for almost 20 years
Then when you had children you ran a village shop from home
But also helped run the smallholding where we lived
You even had an evening job to bring in extra income
Then you began working in a care home and that had a big impact on you
At 50 you changed direction in life and studied and trained to be a nurse
No mean fete with two children to bring up
When you retired you continued to work in a care home
Then you undertook charity work every week still continuing well into your eighties
In fact you were on your way to work at the charity shop when you fell
You were found lying in the street …
Two bleeds on your brain and over three months in hospital
How you pulled through I will never know
Yet you battled on and are still with us still
Now you have short-term memory issues and are going blind
Fate struck a cruel blow when dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer
He passed away in February
Your lifelong partner for nearly sixty years
Your world turned upside down and now you live in a care home
We are selling the family home - gosh I find it tough emotionally
I know we have lost dad but I feel like I am losing you too
You are helping me clear out things from the house
Items you have known and loved for many years
Sadly we can’t keep everything
It must be so so difficult for you, yet you never complain
I just want you to know how much I love you
How much you inspire me
We only have one mum and I am so lucky I have you still
Written for a previous contest but too late to be submitted
Placed in Judy Konos' Contest - tell us about your mom
18th September 2015
Over The Horizon, Dedicated To Andrea
Beyond normal sight and imagination
Tho' perhaps a dear new sensation.
Hidden rainbows kiss blue skies
shall we issue cries?
Love begs not
Lies
to thus blot
out what truth decries
as life's greedy little tries
to dismiss such new titillations.
Beyond normal sight and imagination.
Robert J. Lindley, 10-02-2021
Form: Andaree-
Thanks given unto my friend Andrea
For gifting us this truly brilliant new poetry form.
This my first ever writing with this new form dedicated
to its immensely talented and massively gifted creator.
Mine is not displayed - as centered.
Note: - Form: Andaree
It is syllabic, with lines of 11/9/7/5/3/1/3/5/7/9/11
Rhyme Scheme: AabbcbcbbaA
It requires a Refrain: Line 1 is repeated as Line 11.
Generally displayed centered.
Note: Had to list it as "Rhyme", instead of its correct list of "Andaree".
Which PoetrySoup has no current listing for.
When Sweet And Soft Morn No Longer Calls Out,
Dedicated to my dear friend, Connie Marcum Wong
When heart is broken, ocean is drained
All becomes sad-blue, all life is stained
Dawn brings epic sorrows, no real relief
Ripped and torn, shattered some beliefs
Midnight moon casts down that terrible blue
Everything sad even shining new.
When heart is broken, ocean is drained
All becomes sad-blue, all life is stained
When sweet and soft morn no longer calls out
And life cries for hope, with dark mourning shout
Hours flow forth like whimpering aches of day
All the green blades of grass seem morbid gray
Hurt promises to let other shoe drop
And mind wonders shall this agony stop.
Robert J, Lindley, 9-14-2022
Sonnet
Born from a poet's heart that has seen too much sorrow and loss.
Dedicated to those lost. And to my dear friend Connie Marcum.
I truly think she would have loved this one.
As she saw the merits in sad, dark and truth in life should be represented in poetry.
I Write And Write Oft Through The Night,
Words Dedicated To All Poets
I write and write oft through the night,
ponder deep, world that slowly creeps
hold pen, in left hand not the right
inking heart's truth, as out it seeps
I write and write oft through the hours
inking what our souls dare not say,
gems of life's beautiful flowers
celebrating the live long day.
I hope and hope oft through the day,
wonder well, how we make it through
hold my faith, oft bowing to pray
blessings for my loved ones and you
I hope and hope oft through the storm
penning wins over our travails
wherein truest of love is the norm
and ever onward our love sails.
I write and write oft through the night,
I write and write oft through the hours
I hope and hope oft through the day
I hope and hope oft through the storm
Ponder deep, world that slowly creeps
Inking out what souls dare not say
Wonder well, how we make it through
Penning wins over our travails.
Robert J. Lindley, 7-06-2020
Rhyme, ( Wherein The Poet Must Relay Heart's Truest Gifts )
Dedicated To All Poets, as poets sacrifice to ink their art.
oh nirvaan ! truly dearly you ,
how should i tell you,
how much i love you,
i am your uncle,
you’re my nephew,
thats not all i have to tell you,
i can see in you,
astonishing wisdom and noble cue,
so i like to earnestly convey you,
in this world of disguise beauty,
nirvaan be the crown of integrity,
cherish the values of buddha,
knowledge, character and generosity,
and accomplish the ambedkar glory,
your parents nita and vivek,
working hard for your sake,
for you the platform is set,
to lead the rest,
born in wealthy country of opportunity,
don’t ever forget humility,
towards suffering dalit society,
strive for their prosperity,
your grand parents abhayanand and jhanaprabha,
devoted most of life as an ambedkarite,
be the reason for their pride,
by never giving up the quest,
that born american by birth,
you are equally devoted,
to spread the dr. ambedkar's word,
to make india pro-buddha,
oh nirvaan! truly dearly you,
buddha’s of past, present and future, bless you.
sadhu, sadhu, sadhu !
...rAHHUL
A sprinkle of sage enhances the flavour of rice
A sage enhances the flavour of life.
. ~~~~~~~~~~
A Tribute to Brian Strand
Written: December 30, 2009
An Emily:is a 2(or sometimes 3) line paradox form of poetry created by Brian Strand
(labelled thus, inspired by Emily Dickinson poem 1732).It may or may not have a title,uses a
word with separate meanings,(or one that sounds the same,with a different spelling) with the
intention to mean several things; thereby, to enhance the thought's ambiguity/enigma.
Looking Back Long Ago
We had been looking back long ago
While time crept by seeming so slow;
Distance between time kept spreading;
May do something they were dreading.
On a broad beach boots hit the sand,
After looking at sight of a lonely land;
On shore was blowing a light breeze;
Exposed enemy on hills and up in trees.
Explosions and bullets sounded so loud;
Later that day heads would be bowed
Thanking God that He let them survive;
Being in one piece and remaining alive.
At Normandy we each dutifully performed
When the troops on shore had all stormed
Only thing which was left that remained
Had been blown to bits or blood-stained.
PVT Lester E. Deschler Died July 12th, 1944
in a tank explosion. He is now buried at
Normandy America Cemetery and Memorial.
Am unsure if he was an uncle or great-uncle
of Ms. Kelley Deschler a Poetry Soup lover.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
http://www.thepetitionsite.com/188/569/134/a-snowball-for-peace/#
Make sure that you have signed peace petition at above website.
I don't want to
No I don't
Want to do it
Your way
Your way
Or the highway
That's what
I hear you say
So I'll pack my bags
I'll soon be on my way
You tell me
You don't
Mean it
"Please don't go away!"
If you do it my way
Perhaps then
I'll stay
You don't want to
No you don't
Want to do it
My way
In the end
I guess that's okay
You go that way
I'll go this way
We can choose
The games we play
I'll take my ball
You keep your bat
You keep this
I'll keep that
My mind feels skinny
I think yours is fat
It seems my mind
Has split in two
I was never me
I was always you
I can't leave
What will I do?
My options limited
Yet I have
Quite a few
Tell me
Tell me
What to do.
As I wrote this I thought of my friend Freddie who seemed in
a constant battle with himself. The world is less without him
in the game. I will miss him.
Creature of myths and legends
most deny that you ever exist
yet time after time you reappear
history the world wide names you
Depicts you with spiral single horn
gleaming white starry coat
its said only in a virgin you trust
when you will lay your head
In her lap as she tames
your ferocity and wildness
only then can you be caught
yet should we capture you?
Is it not best to leave you free?
some things are best left alone
never to be proved as fact
I know I believe you to be real
Yet a wondrous creature living hidden
that forever free and wild should be
allowed to roam in our minds and hearts
bringing hope and joy to future generations
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
for PD's contest written 06/11/2013
The unicorn is a legendary animal from European folklore that resembles a white horse with a large, pointed, spiralling horn projecting from its forehead, and cloven hooves. First mentioned by the ancient Greeks, it became the most important imaginary animal of the Middle Ages and Renaissance when it was commonly described as an extremely wild woodland creature, a symbol of purity and grace, which could only be captured by a virgin. In the encyclopedias its horn was said to have the power to render poisoned water potable and to heal sickness.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Puppy Love at 55
When I am wise, I’ll turn to puppy love
With generous doses of truth and innocence, almost no shame …
“Her be my gal!” Or “Me gonna marry him, so you jus’ shove!”
Sound adorable. Singing, “He is mine. I am his. Gonna get married, take his name.”
Gone the days of horse and carriage … some sensuous songs, also silent …
At this moment I am not wise, merely older, aged fifty-five;
I make amends, enjoy each tomado-love and each new accent;
Aware of so much pain, woundings, the living-but-barely-alive
So I recall how puppy love felt like fresh air, sunshine, pure
We thought the best of belle or beau
Time never existed. No bills, diapers, nothing to insure
Slobbery kisses on ears, eyes, but unashamed, secure …
When I turned a certain age; not so young and not so pure
I thought marriage was right: seemed the way to secure
Each other in love’s embrace for children, a better future …
No regrets! But I gaze at a happy marriage in old pics now.
So I say this to all poets, painters, quaint artists, saints and sinners:
Start early with puppy love, and never give up on it;
Why discuss doubling household incomes, becoming millionaires
For such talk puts dollar signs where love was beautifully reflected!
The children may yet teach us the ways of innocence
But that is the hardest job today: among adult gadgets, to remain puppies
That lick, slobber, miss the lips and kiss the eyes or chins
And yet without shame, forgetting forbidden fruit, unblinking eyes -
(Asking questions about hair, skin, color … hugs galore, even for the different)
But as to whether I advocate divorce, May I plead the Fifth Amendment?
~The Unicorn~
There is a woman who has a passion
Not for a man and not for a fashion
Her passion is for a horse, a horse with a horn.
Commonly known as a mystical unicorn.
This mythical beast from days of yore
Did it walk on this hallowed land before?
The Bible mentions this unicorn
But the science says it’s a beast with one horn.
It’s placed where the horn is on a rhinoceros
So what is that trying to tell the lot of us?
Those unicorns did not roam about
I know that’s hard love, please don’t shout
The mythical beast of charm and of love
Is just a rhinoceros to you and me, my dove?
The Bible talks of it with other beasts
Not mythical ones, that now have all ceased.
What it means is a beast with just one horn
But not the mythical mystical unicorn
But for you PD I will start to seek
For a horse with a horn that would be labelled a freak.
I will scour the lands up hill and down dale
I will lift every stone and turn every hay bale
If this horse with a horn is what you desire
I will spend my time searching-until I expire.
For you with a passion for a horse with a horn
I’ll search for ever to find your mystical unicorn
But if I expire before my quest is done
I’ll get an apprentice, and he can find one.
© 10/09/2012 ~GG~
He was howling at the moon,
it was mid June's heyday, she
was naive beyond reproach
her innocently lit chiaroscuro
made him hunger all the more,
til one day she let down her guard
'neath an impatient violaceous sky
drinking effervescently blissed wine
kissed him with rosé blushed lips
But his instincts betrayed him,
devouring the petite blossom
of her youth, teeth bared,
eyes glaring crimson, her stardust smile
no deterrent, appetite’s salacious intent,
stomach growling nocturnal desires,
claws scarring milk-paint skin
till groans released vibrations
felt ‘pon shadowed earth
shattering movements
ground-breaking momentum
sent horizons a' rocking
motioning to constellations
as they synchronously liquefied
tilting universes' on their axis
a little death's furtherance
uttering god's hallelujahs
lit beyond obscure sighs
Now two silhouettes,
midst harmonious moaning
echo upon auras' illusions
cresting lofty hilltops
can be seen this night and all others
when the skies turn dark
and celestial bodies' tumult
simultaneously ignite thunder,
diffusing smatterings' explicit
flight surrendered furthermost
heart-stricken otherworldly lovers
'Collaboration ~ Chris Green & Paloma'
Steve works in a call center
to earn an honest bob
but some days he can't believe
the words that flow from some folks gob
They cus and curse
Then eff and blind -
you'd not believe your ears
and if he wasn't made of sterner stuff
he'd leave the room in tears!
I said to him when folks are rude
to remember the golden rule
Just imagine them sitting in the nude
that way you'll keep your cool!
So when they rant and scream and shout
He thinks of his meager pay
but still tries his best to sort them out
and ends the call with 'have a nice day'!
Posted with the kind permission of Stephen Pennell
10~16~16