Best Develops Poems
Two worlds come together
As sweet music flows gently
leads into a different zone
One circle of a heartbeat skips
A single moment our life changed forever
Paradise simply exists golden delicious
Hidden from this world one bounty feast
Life every ounce trusting one promise living
Although at times some tears may drip
Colors kissing love inside a mist
Passion spreads warm fine spun gold
With you fate decides destinies call
No distance can prevail
In your beauty of understanding
You're viewing the second half of my soul
A dream of the truest form develops pure
Under the bright moonlight beam
wings grow tender feelings fly high emotions
As fate determines what is meant to be will be
Within sweet sounds of joy
Happiness blooms inside diamond shining light
Laughter rings out the bells echo deeply
It's called true love in you
Where trumpets rejoice finding heaven
Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :) 03.10.2015
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
A faithless entity unhappiness coldly it turns the eyes around coils
breeding misery a vice with hate that consumes unconscious reality
Crawling underneath a thin veil of darkness
hiding within bitterness that licks the wounds
As a blindness burns one beggar in hell's soup boils
tortured by untruths morally shading absent light
Without His Holiness a soul never finds peace
just war without hope develops inside the ugliness
Living the most complete life--
No man deserves less or more from living than another
From a tiny drop of nectar, a flower blooms
One blossom though different invites the same appraisal
Such is the life of a man…he merits happiness and fulfillment
Survey life’s purpose--
Assess what is the best and the worst that can come
If something is meant to be, it will find a way to happen
Never walk without knowing where to go
If no design, the desire may go unfulfilled
Follow the perfection of nature--
The butterfly flutters by radiating beauty
What is forgotten is how it attains its loveliness
Beginning as a hideous larvae, then the ungainly caterpillar
Bursts out of the cocoon as the magnificent butterfly.
Nature’s plan-- the butterfly thrives
Planning is the key--
Humanity mimics the beautiful insect
Once an unknown quantity, man wrestles with his prospects
A dream develops with deeply planted character and strength
Man takes small steps if he knows where he is going
Thus, a man finds the way to his aspirations.
Hold fast to dreams--
Planting the feet assures nothing
Impediments block the way
Sometimes, days open up like flowers blooming despite adversity
Sometimes, man leans too far forward injuring himself in his fall
Sometimes, he opens up his wings and flies needing no net to catch him
Test the possibilities--
To have a life well lived,
Man should venture outside his comfort zone
Do something that scares him every day
Dwell in the here and now but look to the future…
Grab hold of a smile and never let it go.
Is it not enough that you’ve hung me beside
myself from your fraying rope - tendered by
graying wooden clips with rubber fingers?
Must we really soak on dry until we are sepia
toned under-developed photographs, left on fix?
Why is it you still feel the need to marinate
my every flexed tendon in formaldehyde?
Is it the slow bumping up against red glass
that turns you on; that you relish? Or simply
the come-hither thrill of the bottled hunt?
Watching our developing forms (and by ‘our’,
I mean me and myself - I left the party half
cocked and ready for more long ago) submerged
beneath the red tinge of shadow forms split at
the wrists - dividing one truth from the
next - your tapping, impatient, ready to dance
fingers drumming my convoluted tumbler to
halves; throwing tomatoes, cabbage and micro-
brewed beer bottles at my smiling face as it
develops, appearing as every God damn thing
you never could do; slowly, quickly emerging
hung on the next pin over.
O’ how you hate that photo!
The one where I’m smiling and you’re not.
The one where I know who I am, and you
don’t. The one where even though there are
two of me; there are, (at last count) 10,000 of
you. And if you could see your own face through
the wide V darkroom dusk looking back at
yourself, you would see that sometimes even
the best photographers get it wrong. Sometimes,
all there is, is shadow covering up the best parts,
leaving no room for light meters, fixer, or dull
graying clips clutching white Mickey Mouse fingers,
forcing the image still.
© Kristin Reynolds 5 7 09
She carried a bag full of dreams
Too afraid to lay it down
Too afraid to open and see
What lies hidden inside
She had lost it once before
Along with the rest of her nation
They had lived a nightmare
Of someone else’s stolen bag
In the eyes of this child refugee
Her purpose unfulfilled and unknown
Her bag torn open and emptied,
But still on her back...
So she protects her dreams
Patches up her bag...
Stitches up any tear
In case the bag ever gets stolen
She develops each one diligently
And the bag is getting heavier
And heavier by the day
Yes, she's still a dreamer
Hope is a feeling that people spend years believing in, not because it leads them to a place full of flowers,
but because it's the only thing anyone doesn't doubt. Then there is no difference between the lust of achieving and the act of believing in it.
And when that kind of soul grips the handle of the sword—the sword that once provided power to the soul who had lost everything to stand in the world—
that sword develops a second edge because of the one holding it, and it causes damage to both the good and the bad.
Hope is like a hill. If you think—you can walk on it as long as you have strength, believing that at the end you will achieve the salvation you always wanted.
You start to believe in the shadow of hope because it seems beautiful and sweet. To ask someone for your deeds, and to think they will fulfill your wish—that is belief, not hope,
because that is what people are running behind: doing good deeds by suffering so they don’t have to suffer after death.
But at the top of the hill there is no peak, because you never wanted to find it. That hill has lost its top now—it only has an edge where a man can see a flowing river of water.
And while looking at it, a man loses something: it could be belief or salvation, but not hope—
because it was lost when you laid your foot on the hill. That is when hope becomes belief, and that day, a side of humanity was born—one no soul had ever witnessed, yet one everyone became a part of.
How ironic? Has God ever fallen in love?
I am sure the supreme power does have a clue about love.
Then why are many struggling with questions that have no answers.
If certain sensations are not meant to be then why does one have to go through it?
Or is it a good way to put a check list on Karmic activities.
One’s feeling doesn’t seem to make any sense and the restless notion only brings discomfort.
Even though some things seem so right and pulls one toward a make believe world,
Attempts and efforts don’t seem to fade away.
It is with the tornado of genuine feelings that keep the tingly feeling of love alive.
So does God understand this?
Even though modernization has struck onto the minds of many,
The devotion and willingness to surrender to that person develops a passionate and overpowering desire.
The sweet and sour, or bitter and sweet emotion creates fear or questions fate again and again.
Once the brave feeling has been awakened and humble efforts have been tried upon,
One cannot fight destiny, but can hopefully open a new change to Karmic policies.
As time goes by, one notices that it is no more days, weeks, months, but years that has shaken the foundation of a belief that finally love will conquer over the negativity,
Love is the feeling that has no answers but only a precious sensation is felt.
Again no answers, but more questions and experiences are shown and learnt in every way.
There must be something better stored for everyone that is why one walks through a chain of tests.
Happy living and sustain that positive attitude.
From our youth, we have been taught that beauty is only skin deep;
and “It’s in the eyes of the beholder”, is what we like to teach.
Many a head has been turned, and our hearts have taken a leap.
It was breathtaking, as our captured hearts skipped a beat.
I absolutely understand this, and I do tend to agree.
Many were the working hours of driving through the marsh mellow wetlands.
I paused but could not stall as I took in the blessings of beauty in the Fall.
So pleasing and peacefully, the feathered fowls played, rested, and feasted.
So honored and privileged was I just to watch and breathe with the birds.
I have witnessed the carefree and feathered beauty of butterflies flying by.
Such artistic mixtures of colors often arrest and capture even this stoic guy.
And I’m reminded that such beauty was earned in a cocoon, and not given.
It was born out of strength and patience, and not made-up quickies.
Time was crucial, and the work was hard, as the moth long endured.
The butterfly has taught me that beauty develops in stages and unfolds over time. I must continue to learn to wait and dutifully labor through the hard times. Millions of the Monarch Butterflies spend their winters in Central Mexico. Come Spring, may I too, like butterflies, spread my wings and take flight.
12052015PS Contest: For Men Only( Would You, Could You) Write About Butterflies. 2nd contest entry 6/29/20, Butterflies And Marshes Mellow,
Kai Michael Neumann
Lost living among'st the shadows of dreams
An echo softly holds a gentle stillness
As a vision grows dimly lit holding flames
From troubles burning within chambers deep
I raise my eyes towards the mountain peaks
Winds softly echoing your voice inside the rain
One charmer who cast such cunning spells
Through a galaxy where time dances with the stars
Spirit of eternal peace and love falls uniquely pure
Into the arms of your goodness a picture develops
Drunken soul of a sailor sings to the night sky
Lament of a seagull cries eternally over waves
Dear dragonfly, you hover from flower to flower
But there is one which you always seem to linger on
When the world stops and time stays at the magic hour
You spread your golden iridescent wings chiffon
To catch the welcoming smile of dawn
Royal rays filtering through transparent cells
Landing on the little place where a fairy dwells
Seeking the one true taste that will give him power
Sweet essence melting sunshine beams upon
Striking bells bewitching beauty develops showers
Sparkling the day creeping spells spawn
Fountain of forever young whistles a robin's song
Each an echo inside warmly touches shell
Landing on the little place where a fairy dwells
Lord of the skies mesmerizing regal high towers
Into the fair realm rainbows touch upon
Opening a doorway into the deepest bowels
Another world one kingdom awakens sighing yawns
Eyes within a spirit conquering glances breaths of light shone
Under the hawthorn blossoms enchanting smells
Landing on the little place where a fairy dwells
Wing-whirring basking in the sun to empower
The little shy being standing in the shade beyond
Gazing upwards at the motion camouflage in wonder
Darting across visions softly skimming over the pond
Kissing a twig gradually sprouting a magical bond
Synchronized heart wings beating under one's spell
Landing on the little place where a fairy dwells
a co written piece by liam mc daid and angeline lim
We are stronger than we think
Ups and downs of everyday will never go away
What didn’t kill us yesterday
Won’t send us to our grave tomorrow or today
Resiliency develops over time
We are stronger than we think
Even when days seems like a grind
Building strength as pushed to the brink
Resolution a requisite
To wrangle volatility
We are stronger than we think
Formidably overcoming fragility
Standing firm as we find our footing
Throw anything at us including the kitchen sink
But we know we will be able to handle it
Because we are stronger than we think
The piercing stench of sulfur and death tears through my nostrils
Angels of retribution spread disaster as told by many apostles
My flesh melts but leaves not the bone like skin encasing the sun
legions of demons surround me leaving nowhere to run
I pray to be lifeless not realising I hold no breath
The weight of my sins within so strong they deform my chest
An unending thirst for mercy develops that can never be quenched
my transgressions pile onto my spirit an I am now entrenched
I have become eternally comfortless as my book of life sealed
I could have changed my lifestyle but to late I have been killed
This scenario alone I fear phobically and so I attempt to humbly
ask for forgiveness daily to protect my soul spiritually
Sha'ntez Jefferson
10/30/12
Whats your fear contest
Dawn develops with snowflakes
It also commences with sunny glow
The peak stands with green bushes with some small fleece like folks.
Fleece folks with Liliputs owners grazing with passion.
There is an enormous terrain at the foothills of peak filled with some matchbox like houses.
The lake isn't usual as it is red under a blue sky.
The tulips and roses recite a story of their red colour.
The valley itself is a saga of wonder, beauty and dark reality.
Reality that camouflages behind the greeny bushes.
But tulips and roses are there to recite.
Dedicated to "Kashmir Valley" ( India).
You feel that painting exists
Still upon the canvas
But it has lost its luster
When it keeps it growing
Inside yourself
Your heart beats faster
As the painting develops
Into a masterpiece
Of dimensions evolved
Into pieces of life
Shown by the colors upon
The white canvas
Showing where dips an sways
Revolve around the world’s
Only repertoire of truth
Thrust upon life’s grace
Where I see the painting
In my mind’s eye still
Such a grueling chore
Where the paint sends beauty
And laying upon the canvas
A picture of abstract
Proportions to random
Acts of nothingness
Still plays its tune upon
My desires to blend the colors
And bleed the picture
Into what art
Surely means to me
Russell Sivey
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When you CLUTCH the VINES of attachment
GRASP them tightly, HOLD on to them
You suffer multi HUED agony endlessly
You GASP in pain
Remember nothing is yours.
All that you possess was gifted after birth
It will be taken away at death
Why have attachment to transient
We not be attached to permanent
The ultimate source of bliss and love
Detach from world, attach to God
Once you remove your worldly CLASP
you will GLIDE and SOAR freely
INHALE tranquility
You will be liberated from this world
Never to come back again
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For Grasp contest by Constance La France
04.07.2021
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Some verses from Bhagvad Gita related to attachment
BG 2.62: While contemplating on the objects of the senses, one develops attachment to them. Attachment leads to desire, and from desire arises anger
BG 2.63: Anger leads to clouding of judgment, which results in bewilderment of the memory. When the memory is bewildered, the intellect gets destroyed; and when the intellect is destroyed, one is ruined
BG 4.10: Being freed from attachment, fear, and anger, becoming fully absorbed in me, and taking refuge in me, many persons in the past became purified by knowledge of me, and thus they attained my divine love.
BG 5.10: Those who dedicate their actions to God, abandoning all attachment, remain untouched by sin, just as a lotus leaf is untouched by water