Best Edit Poems
To Edit
to recover
to renew
to rediscover
to change the existing
to realize my own mistakes
to change the innocence
to redo the first words spoken
can I fix the Broken ?
to Edit .
I tried to read a favorite poem of mine for you.
Your eyes glazed over.
You could have been a lizard on a rock
sunning yourself, entirely unaware
that I felt as though I were there in front of you
reciting my words of such beauty
that an angel could have been
singing them while playing on a harp.
You may have even fallen quite to sleep.
Not once did you look up or glance at me.
You told me later, in fact, you had no use for poetry.
Another time I tried to read a poem to you.
It was a poem meticulously crafted just for you.
I could tell you liked it, for you were its centerpiece.
You pricked up your ears a little bit.
You thanked me, but no sweet words
of great appreciate did you return.
I am a stranger in your world of pure practicality.
Your love for me is steadfast and real; however,
asking if you’d love me if I were not a poet
is like asking a mother if she’d love her baby
if it were not merely there cooing in her lap.
Here they are to edit me
I don't care, can't they see
I'll say what I want, I'm free
You can ask me, Maybe even plea
I won't agree
It's me, not we
I'll charge like General Lee
Make you take a knee
You will pay the fee
If you don't let me be
You should probably flee
tealights
with soft warm glow
release sweet lavender scent
where I linger with my lover
melting in contentment
< coniferous tree
playing peek a boo .... shuffle
candid smiles glisten
{ Christmas }
Entry For
Deborah Guzzi's
Holiday Haiku Contest
G.L. All
Some drivers really make me want to scream.
I’ll do some little thing that they don’t like.
They honk or give the finger. It’s so mean.
I’d like to yell at them to take a hike.
Of course I can’t say THAT. They’re in a car.
What makes them all such grouches anyway?
Are they upset to have to travel far
from home to work and then back home each day?
Sometimes I need to get into a lane
to take an exit. They won’t let me pass!
Why can’t they yield? They drive me so insane.
Sometimes it seems they give their car MORE gas.
Yes, they do it with deliberation!
I guess some people like to be unkind.
What’s the matter with consideration?
A driver that’s polite is hard to find.
I’ll see some poor guy make a little blunder.
I think – that could be me! It’s no big deal.
Then someone honks like they’re the God of Thunder.
They need to keep their cool behind that wheel.
I say this in my mind to those who honk
for no good reason: What is done is done!
A honk as “afterthought” is like a bonk
to someone’s head. I pray they’ve got no gun!
You see it on the news sometimes – road rage.
And sometimes people die because of that.
Be careful on the road. it’s hard to gauge
a person’s mental state. Don’t be a brat!
Jan. 1, 2022
for charles messina's King-Size Bull Crap Poetry Contest
< One by one they'll shall roll on and come
Like soldiers marching to beaten drums
Echoes are acknowledge
Cast across thy arched bridge
Haste makes waste even for everyone
Inspired By
Carolyn Devonshire's Contest
Follower Or Leader
GL All
Born in North Carolina to affluent parents
attended debutante balls, hated the dresses
my mother thought I was made of clay
no, I would have my way
my father liked the bottle
clear liquid was his hot tottie
I loved him through it
because I was his pet
played classical piano
performed, people judged, I won
married three times
there will not be a next
struck by tragedy
then, my life became a rhapsody
my bio rearranged
and things changed
had two boys, left with one
And, I am still standing under this great big
sun.
©Holly P. Moore
March 2013
Student Procrastinator
Grammar
Crammer
Multiple Casino Guy
Scrambler
Gambler
Casino Loser
Lamer
Gamer
A Playboy’s Malady
Fun guy
Fungi
Slasher in Prison
Knifer
Lifer
April 27, 2021
Attribute two my poet tree book edit tor
I no that the write punk chew asian, speeling and grammer are sew impotent when righting poet tree, don’t chew think sew two? Sow four my book eye will bee making shore aye ewes my smell chequer.
This is attribute to the wonderful lady who is going tubby the edit tor of my poet tree book. Eye don’t think shell have any issues after reeding this tribute as my werk is prefect!
Seriously, I will stress I am NOT leaving Poetry Soup, I have a lifetime PM and I intend to use it until I can no longer pick up my pencil. I am just taking some much needed time out to focus on getting my poems into a book. It has been my intention to do this since I left work in 2016 and now the time is right for me to put my plan into action.
I will be dropping back from time to time to read some of the amazing poets here and to make the odd comment
Jan
1st April 2019 (despite the date its not an April fool's joke)
The semi circular motion of a semi colon is neither a separation of an apostrophe or a mere dot of a full stop. Perhaps the embrace of a bracket within a sentence could harness and calm words. It is imperative form and involves structure but editing can eradicate meaning so don't cross out or erase those words that come from the mind to land on paper,parchment or text. Deletion is not a recommended task. All words arrive from a source. A recording from within translated. Would one really bake a tasty pie, curry, or other fodder then place in a bin? Would one put on nice clothing then jump into mud? No no no. And to create is not to crease. So go jump up and down on a hill waving one's arms in a motion understood by the skypaths of time. Depersonalization Zr Z xxxx
ideas silence
creators denied free thought
speech control power
While we humans are living in fear,
those sweet cats and the dogs we hold dear
get added attention
since we’re in detention.
Pets are thrilled that Corona is here!
Our societies came to a crawl,
but the creatures are having a ball.
Gators saunter to stores.
Monkeys, goats, and wild boars
running free aren’t so dumb after all!
April 23, 2020 for Janice Canerdy's Limerick Contest
(I think my fingers hit the wrong keys first time around!)
Tommy Turkey revealed that last year
Farmer Joe made old friends disappear.
To the new birds he said,
“Heed my words or be dead
should that farmer with axe reappear.”
The new birds thought his tale was a fable.
Tommy cried, “Run as fast as you’re able.”
To the corn field he fled
while his dumb friends instead
ended up on a Thanksgiving table.
Her independence deferred
History wipe, silenced in denial
Component of family unit secure
Current form stands as emblem
Entirety kindly quiet unheard
Cleansed of horror occured
Corpses buried won't stand trial
Heinous parade she could endure
Hosts pretense without problem
Outline dent, identity blurred
Safe matriarch role preferred
Sedating sandarac sent via smile
Dizzying aphrodisiac calamine cure
Disarming smooth cabochon gem
Exhibits traits 1950's referred
Dissolved scrag, unburdened
Drama curtains pull closing titles
Screenplay prosperity props are pure
Scripted mid century holds them
Outcast character murdered
Eleventh of New Year Era