Best Doves Poems
Hear the soft coo-cooing that faithful love imparts,
mourning doves, sharing their beating hearts.
On lofty eaves, build nests of winter pine and twigs,
Keeping their eggs close to their breasts.
Oval shaped, snowy white, they hatch and come alive;
A brood grows and will survive.
Plump bodies speckled in gray and black;
Take flight with fanned out tails that reveal a fringe of white.
The warm summer is nearing its’ end, Mourning Doves and fledglings
Together, will ascend; blue skies headed for the border of Mexico.
March 6, 2022
For: Form-I-Imagism – New Poem Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Placed 3rd in contest
doves coo love notes
songbirds sing nesting tunes....
temperature twenty
Cooling off in falling months, approaching dusk.
Coordinated chill and quilting of snow, brusque.
Cooking lots of soup, beating down dough,
as the wind whoops on a weeping willow.
The sky blue sheets aired out on the clothesline.
Coordinates of beauty in her decline.
Cooties shots on the medical menu…sigh.
Cooperation of dirge, the woe-filled cry.
Co-occurence of life and absence of fog
on the handheld mirror, down by the bog.
Cookout of fried boughs and its vestment.
This particular parish was not a good investment.
Autumn’s turning down the soil - leaves
storm in turmoil, slowing down what it believes.
The coos of despair…her ring rolls off finger.
Her dreams of love no longer linger.
Cool when Autumn clashes with Winter
and the clash of letters are placed by printer.
The clouds are snow white, they get the scoop.
Doves cry and hover - eyes droop.
If I write down words
that pour from me like
water rushing from a rusty gutter
carrying my cries in the flood
with decaying leaves and
the smattering off the roof
of droppings from so many
prominently perched pigeons,
is that a poetry of sorts?
If the aged shingled roof leaks
at its eaves (like my eyes)
when wind blows the rain
nearly horizontal and the house
beams creak and sound like
corroded hinges when
seldom-used doors are opened,
has a trope occurred?
And, is anything -- honestly --
more than almost senseless patter?
Does it really even matter?
A big hole is in my shoe
My front tooth is on the loose
Poor car won’t start today
My best friend just ran away
He’d be better off as stray
3 days now we have no food
Thunder and the rain begins to fall
From the roof and down the walls
The flood rushed off with the bed
Empty pockets and broken smiles
Everyone turns away to hide
Is there any help to get
Money worries is what I have
I need some cash I pray
Can you lend me by the way
I’ll pay you back
But I can't tell you how or where and when
I lost my job again
The bad luck never ends
I have no money
Can’t buy honey
Nobody cares about me
I have no money
Can’t buy any honey
What's happening to me
Save me oh Lord
From this pain and misery
I’m losing all my hair
Life is just a despair
Save me Lord
I can’t stand this suffering any more
Feels like I'm dying
Nobody cares about me
My name is Justnoway
Better luck another day
I'm the black sheep of the family
Not a cent to call my own
No cooing dove to ease my soul
No satisfaction for the meek
Save me Lord
These awful sins are much too much to bear
Does anybody care
Save me Lord
My life is slowly coming to an end
Left without a friend
I have no money
Can’t buy honey
Nobody cares about me
A Tree Filled With Doves
I heard the giggles
And whispers of feathers
Before I saw the tree explode
In clouds of rambunctious doves.
Rising in a cloud upwards to the just risen sun
Like drunken conventioneers stumbling into the morning
Squinting and laughing, rushing toward another day of living.
Surprised but not frightened, I froze in wonder hoping to feel their breezes.
Rain pours down over the hills, like God’s tears
Jewels peppering petals, impulsive
Lightening rages in skies, bleeding fears
Wonders so amazing they’re compulsive
Jewels peppering petals, impulsive
Skating along roses, a faint pleasure
Wonders so amazing they’re compulsive
Creating hope in hearts, beyond measure
Skating along roses, a faint pleasure
Reflecting joy descending with showers
Creating hope in hearts, beyond measure
Nourishing the oaks, pines, all the flowers
Reflecting joy descending with showers
Risking all to abide in His sweet grace
Nourishing the oaks, pines, all the flowers
Knowing beautiful beyond any place
Risking all to abide in His sweet grace
Singing like stardust glistens, secret love
Knowing beautiful beyond any place
Soft light flowing down from heaven above
Singing like stardust glistens, secret love
Painting souls in music from falling rain
Soft light flowing down from heaven above
Here is more love than a heart can contain
Painting souls in music from falling rain
Lightening rages in skies, bleeding fears
Here is more love than a heart can contain
Rain pours down over the hills, like God’s tears
Doves cry when the earth is being disturbed
When there's conflicts and war they are perturbed
For doves are the dear Lord's symbols of peace
They bring olive branches to help wars cease.
Doves also represent the joy of love
The golden gift from heaven up above
They coo-coo-coo to attract their life mate
Then build a nest for them to populate.
Doves sing their song to tell you that they're near
A song that's soothing and moving to hear
Their musicality is a calm balm
Alike listening to a holy psalm.
Stay as innocent as doves Jesus said
Never let evil thoughts enter your head
Doves appear when one has a troubled mind
On angelic wings, bringing love sublimed.
it's usually early
as day starts turning
over
when the air around is as heavy as
seas
in your chest
feelings are intermixed
between despair
and hope
like the sea
when your odds are in a bottle,
scribbled futilities tossed to the waves,
exit on the backside
of tides
until they resurface
with old whale stench
one out of water
tanning
under a hard sun
doves cry
in the shade
of mahogany trees
between noon and three
when my mother's mother's
roundabout
nonsense
lyrics
"Moses speak_God's word
Isaac too"
come fresh
to me
the doleful
doves
portend cardinality
begging adulterers
to repentance
"Feathery Prophets!"
grandmothers had spoken
that death will walk
into this village,
some house, any hour,
more sure than May rain,
taking stock
and mourners...
and choirs...
and pastors preach
and pray you well
while you sleep
later we'll all fall asleep
Beautiful white doves fly above the deep blue sky..
Doves the color of white..
White feathers
Soft and pure..
Doves fly so gracefully..
Soaring freely across the universe..
A representation of freedom exists upon the deep blue sky..
Tasting freedom
Smelling freedom..
Feeling freedom..
For I am blessed..
I am swimming in graciousness..
Drowning in freedom I am..
One shall never forget a life of..
Restraits..
Of which..
Is Limited..
Hidden behind walls..
Tucked away from all..
Stuck in a corner alone..
Intoxicated by isolation..
Smothered in my own captivation..
Many doses of lonliness surrounds..
Beautiful white doves soaring so high..
Flying freely..
So full of grace..
Elegant..
Visions of beauty
An abundance of peacefulness..
I am free..
Free as the beautiful white doves..
“Father of All, Hoopoe of the Shining Light
Voice of Truth, singing above pits of night
Light singing in heaven’s tree above the height
Barbelo in the heights unthinkable
Nous incorruptible, Word untouchable
Forefather whose voice is unspeakable
Father whose feathers are impenetrable”
Norea the phoenix cried with tears in eyes
Heaven’s birds heard and flew her to the skies
To the eternal garden of endless size
Under the singing doves of holy glass
That her head may rest in Epinoia’s grass
Resting under the wings of Adamas
To attain her first mind through Christ’s wings of brass
So, in this place, she breathes forth offspring herself
She has been gifted the Logos itself
She sings with the soul of Adamas himself
In unity with the undying birds
Singing immediately with life-filled words
With the eagle of Christ, the guide of herds
Resting in the light which she knew before words
Dwelling through the mind of mankind’s forefather
That Invisible Simurgh, the founder
She gives praise to the hoopoe bird, her father
She rests in the Gardens of rest and light
There are days where she beholds the Garden’s might
Her soul will be ever filled to the height
For she has the four doves, whose glass wings shine bright
The stained glass doves intercede for her again
To Adamas, in his heavenly den
That Hoopoe who rests in all the race of men
Housing Norea’s joy in his feathers
Who sings about the one name without measures
“All-Father, Hoopoe of holy pleasures
Voice of Truth, singing beyond earthly treasures”
My steps tread heavily
They travel dream like streets so familiar
yet not
The blues and grays of twilight eve
fashion a shroud like mist
I walk with my companion
The din of the city suspended
Hesitation
Mortal fear, a difficult challenge
As I approach the corner
I hear only the delicate echoes of
fluttering wings
I look to my lover
Our eyes offer a silent goodbye
I must go
As I move, I see hundreds of them
dancing on air
Their song, a sweet chorus
I say
The doves are waiting
They’re waiting to take me home
My faith blooms of a cherish for our Forgiver,
and forgiveness isn't, "I'll forgive you,
if you'll forgive me,"
it's a symphony of lilacs in the springtime
fields,
a song from the wren's delicate heart,
it's when you awaken after a bitter night
of anger melted into tiredness.
Moments of grief turned to lavender
scented pillows lulling you into a
resplendent dream.
Forgiveness is of white doves ascending
to Heaven's purest love,
carrying whispers of the world praying,
as little workers in your mind build a bridge
of golden cables of peace forged by God,
whether those you've forgiven have a
reunion with you or not. ~
two fat mourning doves
visited bird feeders....
now one lonely bird
“Doves”
Doves of peace cradled in both hands
lotus flowers unfurling, on each petal many faces
one name in between the two hands
claps for our self-acknowlegement in the now,
opens oceans held by the power of many wings,
one dove walks between the rolling waves reflecting
mirrors in that solitary place, there, we all confront
that which is contained within
parting days that shudder, we move through storms,
faith strikes our free choices, electric like lightening within the clouds
that which moves within the heart of us all, some are called, to be touched
within the conscious imagination
hidden within both light and dark,
only there, within the in-between of shadows
we ignore the others who say this cannot be true
so we decide to revolt against the norm, "We"
leave what is safe and sure,
here our voyage launches us forward
these new and different births,
where better worlds are created
within the hidden purity of light and dark
within the shadows of our imagination
Candide Diderot. ‘25
“As a lotus flower is born in water, grows in water and rises out of water to stand above it unsoiled, so I, born in the world, raised in the world having overcome the world, live unsoiled by the world.”
Buddha
“There is the mud, and there is the lotus that grows out of the mud. We need the mud in order to make the lotus.”
Thich Nhat Hanh
“As the lotus rises on its stalk unsoiled by the mud and water, so the wise one speaks of peace and is unstained by the opinions of the world.”
Buddha