Best Detailing Poems
The day is done. Travel dispersed, no more roaming.
Between dusk and sunset, it’s the gloaming.
I settle to watch, inspired by that instant moment,
When day gives over to night a regal bestowment.
Lights begin to shimmer, as we near twilight.
Across the horizon created a radiant glow so bright.
This magical moment captured with a deep ruby hue.
Detailing an exquisite hefty crimson etched in view.
Streams of color blend seamlessly in swirls of delight.
Heavily embossed across the faded sky, birds in flight.
Sunset’s glowing color of crimson and gold,
As night’s velvety blanket begins to unfold.
Whispers of a breeze wafting gently, flickers a scent.
Evokes aromatic bursts, sensual yet earthy by intent.
With a sweetness, and a warm tranquil overtone.
I am nestled snugly, captivated by joy I've never known.
Capturing my imagination of a candle in glorious blaze,
My breath extinguishing it to create the dark night haze.
“Capturing my imagination of a candle in glorious blaze,
My breath extinguishing it to get ready for the dark night haze.” The Poet
Sunset’s glowing color of crimson and gold is in sight,
I settle to watch, inspired by an instant moment, so true.
As lights begin to shimmer, it is now twilight.
Across the horizon created a radiant glow so bright.
This magical moment captured with a deep ruby hue.
Sunset’s glowing color of crimson and gold is in sight,
Streams of color blend seamlessly in swirls of delight.
Detailing an exquisite hefty crimson etched in view.
As lights begin to shimmer, it is now twilight.
Heavily embossed across the faded sky, birds in flight.
I gaze as the sky bids farewell to the last glimpse of blue.
Sunset’s glowing color of crimson and gold is in sight.
A sweetness of warmth, a tranquil overtone so light,
As the velvety blanket of night begins to unfold so new,
As lights begin to shimmer, it is now twilight.
Whispers of a breeze wafting gently, it flickers a perfume too.
Evokes aromatic bursts, sensual yet earthy right through.
Sunset’s glowing color of crimson and gold is in sight,
As lights begin to shimmer, it is now twilight.
Hi folks
Welcome to the Poet-a-thon for charity
Yes we know, starvation, disease, floods, wars
All terrible events in the world
However, tonight we fight a new cause
Yes a new cause more terrible, more sad (some may have sad “sadder”)
more .... well just more
Worse than global warming even, worse than climate change
Yes, there are poets out there who can not afford even words
Poets who cant express their sadness
Their joy
Their visions
And yes, you, you the viewer can fix that
For only pennies a day, yes only pennies
You can sponsor a poor poet
Then he will be able to post his work to the world
Including those fancy photos
Bringing joy and peace to all mankind
But folks, this can only happen
If you pick up the phone
And dial 1-HELP-A-POET
Your actions, your good will, your sense of duty and compassion
Can save a poor poet
You may even be saving the world
You can sponsor him like we said for pennies a day
Premium membership, lifetime membership, what ever your soul can spare
And remember, with your sponsor ship you will receive
A photo of the poet you sponsored
A monthly poem detailing how his life has changed due to your kindness
Reports from his local bartender, letting you know he’s writing his little heart out
You can even visit this poet’s small village
There, you can take him out for a dinner at his favorite steak house
Yes all this is included with your sponsorship
So pick up that phone, don’t wait, do it now
Dial
Yes its 1-HELP-A-POET, call now
Desperate poets are limited
Reserve yours now!!!!
Read this poem for 24 hours straight, then go back to regularly scheduled poetry, thank you
Lin, sorry to hear, as I am sick too
But I know it's not covid or the flu
Been blowing my raw nose
Sneezing still comes and goes
Maybe this cold needs a brandy or two
Written by Tania Kitchin
Hi poets, I've not been ignoring you
I've been battling the naughty germ, the flu
Writing this just to say
Feeling better today
I'll catch up on comments. Merci beaucoup!
Written by Lin Lane
Poor Tania and Lin are both ailing
I’m healthy but my muse is sailing
Away on a cruise
So I’ve got the blues
My chagrin is not worth detailing!
Written by Jan Allison
What I'm about to tell you is no lies
And it may come to you as a surprise
That all your sneezes
And all your wheezes
Are caused by covid virus in disguise
Written by Tom Cunningham
Tania and Lin, want to make a confession
They went out on the town for a session
But some bug sneezed in their wine,
On his way back from Des Moine’s
Now Feds have nailed him for indiscretion
Written by David Kavanagh
Poor Tania and Lin are both sick
In blighty we say Tom and Dick
But struck by girl flu
We men would boo hoo
So I’m getting out of here QUICK!
Written by Terry Flood
Our friends, Lin and Tania- feeling ill
Seems they both have a cough, cold...and a chill
They wrote each other a letter
To make each other feel better
So, their hubbies could get back on the pill
Written by Charles Messina
Everyone feels sick at the same darn time
This is a get well limerick in rhyme
No more sneezing issues
You've used all the tissues
Drink some tequila and suck on a lime!"
Written by Mark Koplin
Sponsor Mark Toney
Contest Name 2025 Poetry Marathon Mile 3
The day is done. Travel dispersed, no more roaming.
Between dusk and sunset, it’s the gloaming.
I settle to watch, inspired by that instant moment,
When day gives over to night a regal bestowment.
Lights begin to shimmer, as we near twilight.
Across the horizon created a radiant glow so bright.
This magical moment captured with a deep ruby hue.
Detailing an exquisite hefty crimson etched in view.
Streams of color blend seamlessly in swirls of delight.
Heavily embossed across the faded sky, birds in flight.
Sunset’s glowing color of crimson and gold,
As night’s velvety blanket begins to unfold.
Whispers of a breeze wafting gently, flickers a scent.
Evokes aromatic bursts, sensual yet earthy by intent.
With a sweetness, and a warm tranquil overtone.
I am nestled snugly, captivated by joy I've never known.
Capturing my imagination of a candle in glorious blaze,
My breath extinguishing it to create the dark night haze.
The Sun will rise
a high command,
God’s firm detailing --
Moon will carry-on
then night,
a borrower of light;
up-close we have
our planet near star
imagine worlds each
distant gleaming…
trillions of eyes
attempting to look-in
while our own eyes
far away dreaming
I create - my speaker creates tone
Choosing words selectively - having diction
Writing with an implied attitude
The subject it is created
Whether it be fiction or nonfiction
I accentuate and it's syntax in tact
Dramatically forming a phrase
Or sentence therefore into imagery
Detailing - a sound effect
Rhyming - timing - I recollect
Harmoniously - the meter in fact
Plays a role - reading
Listening to a poems language
I hear a voice of it's speaker
The tone we catch
Feeling we sense
In turn! with Process of Association
Voila - deciphering a meaning!
Remarkable be that of the poem
You read -you comprehend - Hence
Developing appreciation.
Thus art - the poem
creatively writing.
It's over, my nightmare has finished,
I no longer feel any pain.
Now I can tell my story in your dreams,
Tell it again and again.
You see, the kid next door had a gun fired,
Fired through his small tender head.
It woke me so I went over to help,
But he was sprayed all over his bed.
Then the judge, the jury, the town, the people,
All pointed their finger at me.
And I was locked behind bars awaiting my fate,
Of hearing the gas machine key.
And while I waited I was raped every day,
And beaten and broken on a whim.
I had no safety for the health of myself,
When they snapped each innocent limb.
And each night in that jail the boy spoke in my dreams,
Detailing what had been done.
That the last thing he saw was the judge in his room,
The judge holding a big shiny gun.
Die Hard Smokers And Taxes
Die hard smokers, by the thousands countrywide, they rightly feel a bit abused…
Ouch! A latest 40% hike in price for a ciggie pack, they are definitely not amused…
Now is the time, they should be encouraged to rethink over their preference …
With rising costs, each ciggie stick costs a bomb, and financially makes a difference..
Some might swallow their pride and make e cigarettes their latest passion….
Others just might take one last long pull, called it quits as they exhale their pollution…
Those die hards who swagger on with their now expensive habits as a form of rebellion…
Are mistaken in their perception that this habit is identified with resilient and successful people..
Here in Malaysia, we are going through pretty hard times, with a new service tax and a weak ringgit..
To a man, everyone tries to hold fast to each lifestyle by stretching the buying power of the ringgit..
It makes little sense for any sane man to be literally burning the ringgit with each lighted cigarette…
During these days of weakened ringgit, it is the prudent man who does away with his cigarettes…
While the poor spouse who nags with impatience, puts up with all the tobacco scent and smoke…
Imagine the anguish and frustration amidst the coughing fits and the perpectual swirling smoke…
Horrific images on ciggie packs are not a good deterrent, those who smoke hardly spare a look…
All types of campaigns, written articles detailing a plethoria of illnesses and diseases by the book…
What else is there to portray and highlight as we try convincing our smoke belching brothers…
Reduce smoking, refresh the environment and we all get to live longer together as brothers…
A TAXPAYER SPEAKS
Years ago when filing tax forms reared its proliferating death’s head
I cursed, perspired, and thought about moving to a foreign homestead
As a low-income taxpayer I felt too unimportant to hire an accountant
So I filed and filed for years, at all times a very incompetent combatant
Penalties-plus-interest plagued me and I could not raise a skilled defense
Prolonged tax failures destroyed my sense of self-confidence
It was past time to explore options to end to all this tax nonsense
Waking to a new day I jumped out of bed at the crack of dawn
And scoured the yellow pages for a tax advocate to call upon
After detailing my sad tax history they agreed to take my case head-on
My tax life was now covered by tax experts with knowledge and brawn
My “Tax-Saviors” wasted no time plunging into battle early-on
Past tax filings were messy, chaotic, confusing and jumbled
Yet they contended, defended, persevered and never crumbled.
I have learned that tax advocate giants who defend vulnerable taxpayers
Give Tax Dictators headaches for they are tougher and tenacious tax players .
A tribute is due these Tax Defenders who aid us so nobly
And recalling the moving inscription on our Statue of Liberty
(An Emma Lazarus 1883 poem composed in New York City)
My tribute follows and is submitted very humbly
(please forgive the “re-phrasing” substituted for clarity):
Give us your tired, your poor, your tax-ignorant masses,
Yearning to breathe free who have no one to file their taxes
Oh, send these huddled and tortured masses,
(Who feel so inept and like derisory asses)
To Tax Saviors who lay waste to all kinds of tax matters
Rescuing taxpayers dwelling in indecision and tax-law tatters
These Tax-Saviors welcome all with an open-door policy
And any taxpayer who makes the journey
Will at last enjoy fear-free tax filing yearly.”
(However, new tax laws are being drafted by devious Tax Dictators
Who derive joy from harassing captive taxpaying participators!)
A princess in a ballroom
Is every girls dream
Playing it over in our heads,
detailing the scene
A prince at our side
Determined to swoon
Confessing your the most perfect
one in the room
This is what's expected
Until we grow up
And find our dream has decided to
disrupt
Decided to change course
Causing more ache
Now we can't breathe without being
plunged with a stake
Or being rejected
Our only other option
Forsaking the world or choosing
adaption
Most choose the latter
Loosing there virtue
And cling instead on what guys
believe are true
Like "You're bangable that's for
sure
But certainly not what I would date
For girls are nothing more than
meat
An appetizer on our plate"
And instead of disagreeing with their
fact
Setting out to prove it false
We believe these lies and comprise
Decide to be used up, then tossed
But at what cost?
Is it really so wrong?
Just following the pattern of
american love songs
Craving to feel loved from this pitiful
world
Just to follow and become an
ordinary teenage girl
Now feeling alive and fresh in my
skin
Not focused on how guilty I feel
within
Could it really be sin?
But its so fun
Pursuing the guy till you find out
you won
Until the job is done
And you watch him leave
Now aware you stitched your heart
on your sleeve
And he's tore it off
Threw it in the dust
Tell me world, is this pain a must
Can it be fixed?
No it's too late
Might as give myself to the next
heartbreak
Now i'm stuck in the cycle
Caught in the mold
But too scared to step out, not
daring to be bold
Now my heart is cold
Thy soul is stone
Going from guy to guy yet feeling
alone
Following the lie
This is the only type I catch
Besides, there's no such thing as a
God destined match
Simple friend with benefits
But no one benefits
Following the status quo
Just tell him no!
"A bit of fragrance clings to the hand that gives flowers"
...Chinese Proverb
Told simply, in the special Chinese way,
Yet, its meaning not simplistic but bold
A message to follow within each day
of giving and the gift we will still hold.
Rather than volumes detailing each care,
with test results spilling off of each page,
a humble reminder that when we share
each heart will feel joy beyond any gauge.
February 4, 2023
for "Proverbial Poetry Contest"
by Margarita Lillico
Having lied about our skin,
her parents called me a monster,
an African savage where my teeth sounded
against the Amazon's moon.
I love her, yes sir! as a running slave,
and I speak Creole and I speak African too
why the parents refuse to see the truth
where we came from?
Along the River of Coppename I wrote
my destiny which flows, detailing of my despairs,
through the waves.
Once day, now I have seen it
in the night of Sipaliwini, I'll steal her and I'll run,
and I'll run to the Southern Mountains.
On Vacation With Middle Passage Memories
Out over the alluring expanse
of the Big Water---
where the sky rest upon
the water’s edge---
where undulating ships wait
to fall off the earth---
we saw the lightening
dancing in space
and heard the applause
of the thunder.
Huge nimbus clouds,
dark like the early night,
and filled beyond capacity---
burst opened like over filled water
balloons---releasing great falls of rain
wrestling with ferocious winds;
for control of fleeing waves
rushing to shore---frothing
the sands with quenching gratitude.
Mesmerized and immobilized
by nature’s fury,
the blood flow of memory
released a storm of memories---
detailing vivid descriptions
of Middle Passage crossings.
The only things missing
from this reality of the present scene,
were the times---places---stenches
of the living and dead---echoes
of the moans, groans and rattling chains
from the bowels of the putrid ships
that saved many unfortunate poor souls
from the Big Water’s fury---ironically
landing them safely on the waiting shores
to begin life anew:
shuttled to and from the auction block.
The howling winds, roaring waves,
and whipping rains---all slowly subsided:
we hailed the shuttle bus back to the hotel.
$6.6 billion
as if
mr. obama’s assassination of
the unarmed &
defenseless,
bin laden,
wasn’t enough of a thorn in ex-president w’s side,
auditing investigators have released information
detailing the
MISSING
$6.6
BILLION
DOLLARS
that the geniuses at our
pentagon
sent as a part of a $12 billion in total,
cash airlift,
to
“post-war iraq” in
2004---
this supposedly misplaced money
was iraq’s---
taken from iraqi asset’s & the sale of oil during the
war that also had
“ended”
at this point in time---
this debt was to be paid back with
money
drawn directly from our pockets,
if you are an american
tax payer.
as if you yourself cannot think of thousands of ways
which this
“largest theft of funds in national history”
could have been used to help our
desperate & suffering
domestic
population,
who continues to be hurt by cuts to services which are
needed
to better our lives,
( but instead are drained from us, used only to fund
military actions all over the world as we,
the declining policeman,
attempts to keep control of what is so very
obviously slipping out of our
grasp by
beating every last resisting entity over the head with our
baton)---
consider that with this money that was lost,
“is the equivalent of the amount needed to run the
Los Angeles Unified School District or the Chicago
Public Schools for a year”---
yes,
think of all the teachers being laid off in our country
because of our inability to put the
education of our
children
first---
& while you’re at it,
think of being the richest country in the world,
still---
without universal health care.
mad?