Best Details Poems
You have to know he is near, you have to know he is around
Perhaps sensing it in your fear or a feeling of being bound
You never know what he will do or what other things he'll try
But he's out to destroy you because he wants your soul to die
Again and again he'll attack seeking the easiest point of entry
Knowing all you lack helps in the defeating of one that's free
You walk around unprotected and don't even seem to care
The King of Kings you neglected and of this, he is aware
You he just wants to finish while you wander aimlessly astray
So the attacks diminish in just letting you have your say
Things go pretty well, theres no need to call for God's Hand
Soon you can't even tell what you can't even begin to understand
The one who seeks to destroy you is finally on your side
And on you he sort of grew in along with your pride
Yet you should know he is so near and quietly sneaking around
But you don't have any fear, for you haven't heard a sound
1 Peter 5:8
Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour
When it comes to poetry and fiction,
The last thing a writer should want to be is a liar.
Ironically, in his quest for the truth, a writer must frequently lie.
Absolute accuracy is not the point in a poetic or fictional landscape.
The most important element is that the writer, himself,
Like the most convincing actor, believes the lie he is telling.
Writing, like life, is in the details.
What really happened is irrelevant.
The truth, as it were, if it were,
Can always be found in the perspective of an observant reader.
it’s in every little thing we did
the micro details throughout the day
the ones no one would understand
these are
the moments
i miss most
i remember my life as
mini minute minuscule instants
each filled with love for you
how now every
microscopic beat
has me longing for you
through warm lingering fog
i’m somehow forging my way
blessed with the memory of you
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
I've never written a Love poem before;
Well, here it goes:
I have fallen in love with you
- So, how well did I do?
I want to
Do
Things
To you …
My fingers dance
Restless, tingling
Remember our
First night?
OH
MY
GAWD!
My tongue trembles
Behind my lips,
Warm, luxurious,
Waiting …
Remember?
That first night?
Oh
My
Gawd!
And my
Netherworld?
My
Bristly, furry forest?
Wants its pine cones plucked its
Needles stroked its
Burgeoning wildlife tamed –
Hey! You can bark
Up this tree
Any time, honey!
Oh do I
Want to do
Things
To you
Remember that, first.
Night? Oh My Gawd!
Come here come here, come
Here
Come
Hither and yon
While I
Do things
To you
His sister was getting married.
We decided that we should go.
I hadn't met his family yet
but I heard they could put on a show.
We checked our bags at the airport,
flew overnight to get there.
Of course our luggage took a different flight
off to God-knows-where.
So we dropped a large wad of cash
at some trendy local boutique.
There I picked out a stunning outfit,
something I found unique.
Off to the wedding in a rush,
there was no way we were getting there late.
We arrived at his parents home
looking like each other's prom date.
His mother smiled uncertainly
as she ushered us inside.
Sitting at the kitchen table
in jeans and boots was the bride.
Someone neglected to tell us
this was a casual, casual affair
and while I was dressed to the nines
the bride had pigtails in her hair.
The backyard was a sea of denim
and cowboy hats and boots.
I, in my silk and hubby in his tux,
when we walked out received some hoots.
It didn't look like a wedding venue,
it looked more like a rodeo.
I could have died of embarrassment
when I realized ... we were the show.
I sat outside on my deck and looked out to the clear view of the sky.
In the few minutes I was outside, I noticed the sky, but I never truly observed it.
From the shades of azure, yellow and oranges plastered everywhere, came suddenly wash of grey and dark blues.
But, how did I not see the transition of sky?
I came to realize that, as humans we only notice the large or perhaps the large changes in one another.
If we stop, and pause to ponder for a moment, bothering to notice the minuscule ones; the ones that just pass so fast by our eyes, as if they were never there.
For example, the colours in the sky at first glance I looked and saw a melange of different shades of blues and reds.
The moment I looked away, even for a mere second, the sky right under my eyes had become something utterly different.
We never do realize these little things in one another, as a consequence in the end they are most prevalent and also we yearn for the most.
We come to terms that these small things are what make life; the things that we so often lose.
I hate that I love
the details
the tiny particulars
that grew my love
because when the time
comes that I should
not love you
it is those specifics
those little things about you
that I can't forget
the this and that of you
that my insides fell for
the way
you took a deep breath
before expressing a thought
or the stupid callouses
on your hands
maybe the way
that you fidget
when you try to be still
why can't I remember
to hate that your
spelling is horrible
rather than allow
the details of you
to hang on to my heart
Why is my heart
so sticky with you
I need it to let go
your disgustingly soft voice
says things that I hate
my soul hates
and still loves
The problem is in the details
which explains why sometimes
poets can't go beyond a few lines.
You wonder why me
Being with you makes it an adventure
floating in the ocean
one day wild big waves storm, not knowing what will happen
the next day warm calm sunny as nothing happened before
Is inspiring
a trip to different galaxies
so many interests knowledge intelligence
not knowing where to begin
Is details
a walk at the beach while sunset
the golden colour in one grain of sand
while others passing by
Makes a better person
you are the galdhoppigen
giving support beauty to all people trying
no preferences
Is extremes
the most wonderful opal excisting
rough and waiting
to beautiful to polish
Is having good talks
the sound of a frozen landscape
knowing without asking
where listening is in balance
Is honest and pure
a glacial river at it's origin
and snow crystals
observing their smallest bindings
Is trust
being in Bleik
seeing the most beautiful nature art
and knowing it won't change
Is laughing and enjoying life
dancing on the rythm of the aurora
never losing childness enthousiasm
making the other happy
Is having a father brother best freind
and someone
to love deeply
all in one
an observant eye
snow sprinkle from the wizard -
took my breath away
20/01/2022
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
What do we have here
It's the twenty-four impure hours
that precede this exact moment
in which we realize that the past day
once again had no qualities
and it was just and again
the amorphous happening of empty facts
repeating the constant tonic
of the previous countless hours
in which our accounting demonstrated
that is not only wild
but also cruel in the essence of its meaning
because the extract of everything is a gigantic nothing
that accumulated formats what we are:
the tasteless layers of recurring thoughts
the monotonous routine of deficient organisms
the outlandish bet on a losing run
the unnecessary accumulation of obsolete items
the incessant search for the essential but non-existent
logical sense to our incoherent lives.
With you come details
Short and Long
Sweet and sour
Of times spent together so far
With you comes love
Gentle and tough
Hard and rough
Of eternal bliss
Of the perfect kiss
With you come stories
Old and New
Cherished and forgotten
Of visits that happened often
With you comes pain
Lost and Found
Trampled and revealed
Of loosing you to someone
When I kept it sealed
With you comes my shadow
To unveil..to show
That you walk and I follow
You bring with you
Not yourself not me
Its love n pain standing still
And move only at your will
By Laura D
August 13, 2016
The devil's in the details
Under the blackened veil
They seem to wait for me to fail
Why do I feel so frail?
It isn't found within a word
It's never free just like a bird
The feeling lies between the seams
Those evil things in lucid dreams
Imaginary marks I make
With every single smile I fake
This unforgiving sea of eyes
Are full of words I will despise
So find the pulse within my neck
Its beats just like a subway wreck
The endless possibilities of me
The way I faintly smell the breeze
Please, Give me a reason to believe
I only see the burning trees
It's what we do to find the truth
The innocence lost in our youth
1/10/21
Feels great to hear another Golden Oldie
People quick to say okey dokey
Often doing the hokey pokey
Rollie Pollie
Holy Moley
Working toward a Gold Rollie
Stacking up the guacamole
And the blue cheese on the low-key
There was betrayal
And dismayal
Folks quick to label
Always being hateful
It' s shameful
And rather disgraceful
Still was able
To sink the nail
On a small or bigger scale
I failed
And I prevailed
Didn't always bring it to the table
Was just far too painful
I was ready for it, knowing it could be stable
Or an outcome that is fatal
I sipped a lot of ale
Nearby there was a pail
If I ever needed to bail
There was no trace or crumbs and a trail
Left out, it quickly went stale
Setting sail
Still seeking the Holy Grail
With a suit of Chain Mail
Occasionally on a Clydesdale
Paying no mind to these "Jezebels"
It's the truth not a biblical tale
People fast to say "Go to hell"
Still acting like "Cain and Abel"
Steered clear or hooked and impaled
Never partook or continually inhaled
Stayed away, or overdid it and then moved like a snail
Another gale
And bout of hale
There's no time to flail
Or be frail
I don't need to wail
Trying to pay attentions to the details
Sometimes I see quail
And eat Kale