Best Eight Poems
-eight winds come to break u-
..lead your mind astray...
-praise and blame deflate u-
..(but) light carries them away..
-fame and defamation-
..each follows one behind..
-famous for the moment-
..what's left of your mind..?
-gain and loss defeat u-
..both are just the same..
-sanity come to meet u-
..u never knew her name..
-where u going on the morrow?-
..where were u today..?
-recognize joy and sorrow-
..both have something to say..
-four winds come to greet u-
..lead u on your way..
-four more can defeat u-
..blow your soul away..
EIGHT
A deliberate surprise
A shove from the back
while creating artwork
in my second-grade class
Perhaps an ocean scene
A distant angry memory
of my eight-year-old
consciousness
The broken waxy blue crayon
in my right hand
Before me the ripped orange
construction paper and
a scattered image
Girl bully momentarily
reigned behind me
her face encircled with
frantic spirals….
a golden mane
My neck flashed heat
and then a cold sweat
I challenged her to a fight
In the girl’s bathroom
that day
Pale turquoise tiled walls
screamed at me
as I entered the ring
Staring up I saw a field of wilting flowers….
wads of scrunched up soapy paper towels
hurled up at the ceiling where they clung and
appeared as corpses threatening to fall down
on me at any moment
The pungent thick air of girl
bodies surrounded me….
A hungry lion appeared with
open mouth ready to strike
Tightly wrapped around each other
A blur
A blow to my right side
A second to my stomach
Descending to my knees
catching my breath
Rising up I landed an efforted
blow on her left cheek
An explosion within her wild
starving eyes filled with
superpower magnetism
The pounce
The strike
My body collapsed…
the blue tiles hugging me
Sounds of silence
Distant voices of teacher adults
dispersing the crowd
Inside the small stall
crumpled body crying
on the toilet seat
head on my knees
salty tears cascading
Tasting them now
With armor and shield
bleeding …dented and broken
my heart and soul
rejoiced
With spring approaching quickly and milk is upon the rise,
our factory employs seasonal workers to resize,
the employee pool to accommodate the milk intake,
which means twenty-four by seven with such a lot at stake.
The milk dryer needed packers and more cleaners on the floor.
There’s a need for extra lab staff, truck drivers, and some more,
‘til with most positions filled, except one so it did seem.
The warehouse needs another forklift driver for the team.
Mick our production manager had from two nominees to pick.
But must consider who was better; which one will do the trick,
so in my control room we met to show me their régimes,
and both of them were similar so had to find another way.
Bjorn was Norwegian who is back packing for a year,
while Murphy is an Irishman who has settled very near.
And to try and solve the puzzle on who we think may be best,
we came to a conclusion they should take a written test.
So Mick prepared for both a twenty question simple quiz,
hoping this would prove that one, is a better fork lift whiz.
Mick sat them inside his office where he could watch the pair,
as they gave answers to this company’s questionnaire.
It’s never pretty telling folks they miss out on being hired.
They can get very angry once they know they’re not required.
I was ushered to the office once a decision’s made.
The losing candidate was Murphy and he was quite dismayed.
Mick explained to Muphy that from twenty questions asked.
“Bjorn and you got nineteen right with the answers you both caste”.
“Why did I lose?” Murphy whined. “It’s a case of being biased,
seeing we got nineteen right; one more would be the highest”.
“That’s your problem Murphy. The question you got wrong was eight,
and after reading both your answers, here’s what sealed your fate”.
Mick gave an explanation looking Murphy in the eye,
“Bjorn’s answer was ‘I don’t know’ - and you wrote ‘neither do I”.
---------------------- "Word Nerds" (like me)...
************Please Have Fun & Read VERY Closely:)***********
now and again
a word
sneakily obscure
approaches the fog in me
screams its name
suddenly
apropos adverbs appear
clearly
startling
perplexing
precarious adjectives
slick little nouns
caught hiding
beyond babbling brooks
sent to exile
defiling crooks
"pro"fessional nouns
jailed
beneath eight parts of speech
preposition'ed
pre'fixed subjects
elusive predicates
slithering suffix'ation
turn-ing key
delicately
through holes
freeing vocabulary
trapped
within prison walls
synonyms
pen bars
filled in the past
participles
plagued
like Job's tedious job
of siphoning
deciphering
homographs from heteronyms
words never mind...
they wind the mind
gliding
in the wind...
My daughter's getting married
To a super guy called Tom,
It's really fast approaching,
It won't be very long.
The wedding dress is sorted,
The venue and the flowers,
The music and the fireworks,
But the cake, it took us hours.
We went to do some tasting,
Each sponge was quite divine,
Chocolate orange, vanilla
Pimms, coffee and praline.
The raspberry and the champagne
Made us salivate,
Strawberry and white chocolate
Tasted oh so great.
There was banana and spicy cinnamon,
Ginger and caramel,
All so gratifying,
Oh and Battenberg as well.
The carrot cake with walnuts
Was tasty as can be,
Rhubarb and rose petal
And one flavoured with green tea.
Piña colada with coconut
Like kisses on our lips,
Chocolate tiramisu
Oh the calories on our hips.
Odd flavours such as beetroot,
Pistachio and courgette
Were actually quite delightful,
A taste we won't forget.
Earl Grey with lavender,
Pumpkin with peanut butter,
Mouth-wateringly delectable
They got us all a flutter.
Chocolate fudge with peppermint,
Marshmallow and key lime,
Traditional dried fruit,
They were all sublime.
How could we make our choices
For a three tiered wedding cake,
We just couldn't do it
So we've gone for twenty-eight!
4th March 2017
Eight Word Challenge – After the Thrill is Gone
Like an exotic orchid in the glow
of moonbeams, I unfolded
vulnerable petals, inviting you in.
And even radiant rainbows would exult
in the opulence of our love.
But loving you was a roller coaster ride…
a ride you enjoyed; but the vicarious
thrill of waltzing on the edge of
an emotional chasm whittled away at my heart.
Now the thrill of the ride is gone,
and silken smiles on your satin lips
make a mockery of my feelings for you.
The impetus to love you has faded
like blush fading from the red roses
you left on my doorsteps last night.
Those heartbreaking red symbols of love,
I thrashed them; and their bruised petals
now adorn the garbage can in my backyard.
For they only multiplied my pain,
the pain you chiseled into my heart,
a heart still raw and deeply scarred...
after the thrill is gone.
09-02-2018
Contest: Eight Word Challenge – 8 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Placement: 3rd
8 words: vicarious, chasm, exult, opulence, silken, mockery, impetus, adorn
maudlin
maudlin Monday's mostly mud
halts the weekend with woeful thud
laughs and sillies
get the willies
on maudlin Monday, what a dud
tintinnabulous
tintinnabulous Tuesday
is the second paying-dues day
we head uphill
but it’s no thrill
'cause we’re not there, but we’re on our way
wadd'lin
wadd'lin Wednesday straddles the hump
wiggles and shakes like a wide-angle rump
it’s a little too slow
with way too much show
wadd’lin Wednesday makes us “harumph”
thoracic
thoracic Thursday we’d like to send west
we want to get Thursday off of our chest
we’re not so sure
we can endure
thoracic Thursday'd be a good day to rest
finally
finally Friday, when it gets here
makes one take a look in the mirror
to practice a smile
to reclaim a style
time to get ready for giggles and beer!
sleep in
sleep-in Saturday comes with the blues
has way too many of those chore-ing to-do’s
so get outta bed
with hung-over head
and put off whatever you choose
shuff'lin
shuff'lin Sunday saunters along
changing tempo, just like a song
pretty soon then
it’s time again
for Monday and that is just wrong!
elusive
elusive, the eighth day hides from the rest
we like to think we’d like it the best
but we’d probably waste it
and then we’d lambast it.
an eight day week the Beatles addressed
Putting my kisses all around your neck,
Obligates you to do the same to me.
Electrify my soul and I will be
The one whose knees will quickly hit the deck.
Destroyer, I am now a nervous wreck,
Expected to pay the ultimate fee,
Selling my soul so I can set your free
To bounce, as if you had been a bad check.
Restitution will have to be paid back,
Or I may never pleasure you again.
You can take my payments off of your rack,
Extending the time to pay for a sin.
Royalties will always be in the sack,
So that I can always secure a win.
An eight-tiered cake, rose frosted, nothing fake
but purely sweet and white down to each flake
of coconut! Oh how long did it take
the artist of this masterpiece to make?
All other foods for this one I’d forsake.
A plate of golden fries with prime rib steak
could not entice me more than wedding cake,
each swirl so delicate my heart might ache
to see it ravished; my hand starts to shake
the fork I hold. I simply must partake.
Just let me at it now, for heaven’s sake!
Feb. 28, 2017 for the Relishing Cake Poetry Contest of Julia Ward
(These would include the younger brothers of Wounded Thunder,
the character I made up in my previously posted poem).
These were sons of Thunder Storm and “Flower,”
from Wounded Thunder down to Thunder Bolt.
“Bolt” was fast; the touchy one was “Shower.”
And Thunder Struck was somewhat of a dolt.
The cute one pampered by fair Prairie Flower
well-deserved his name of Thunder Squall,
and like another brother Thunder Shower,
got teased, but even louder did he bawl!
Both “Squall” and “Shower” vexed their brother “Cloud,”
for Thunder Cloud by moodiness was led
and always scowled at them for crying out loud!
Great Thunder Head filled everyone with dread,
but the wild son who proved the biggest sap
came home infected. That was Thunder Clap!
~In The Fall~
(Dorian's Five Eight And Five)
Summer's almost gone
It means that fall will arrive soon
And this is just nice
Leaves from the trees change
Yellow reds browns golden all shades
Leaves in the air float
In fall all things change
Different sounds smells all around
Thanksgiving we greet
Great food on display
Family get together to
Celebrate this day
In Halloween folks
Wear costumes of all kind some are
Scary some funny
Love Halloween too
Night full of fun and playing tricks
Kids ask for candy
Go out trick or treat
Enjoy night imagining ghouls
Ghosts vampires witches
Fall is great season
The weather gets colder and crisp
Fall is beautiful!
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2015
July.31.2015
"Dorian's Five Eight And Five" is a poetry style created by Dorian Petersen Potter,
Aka ladydp2000.
Stopping by early, soon it will be Christmas Day,
Shiny gifts, inviting bows, ‘neath the tree do lay,
Hot, mulled apple cider in red glass, deer mugs.
Magnificent family with endless,warm, love hugs!
Roast beef, just glowing with luscious juice.
Sad absence of cousins, Maggie and Bruce!
The peace and love that fills the pine scented room.
Wish all days, were like this, the absence of gloom!
Merry Christmas poets and love to one and all!
This is your early eight week, wake up call!
10/25/2024
Love and hugs to all, in those busy, fun weeks ahead.
~ PANGIE~
Can’t sleep
My night fades into
The bright numbers
Of a digital clock
I make coffee
Which at this time of night
Feels good
As it slowly rolls down my throat
Beginning with a single thought
Ten thousand follow
Thoughts
That make no sense at all
All the while
I stare at the brightness
Of a digital clock
And suddenly realize
The number eight
Is brighter
Than any other number
In the darkness
Eighty-eight keys of ivory
Create the story of history
From requiems and waltzes
To rhythm and blues,
From dirges and ballads
To pop and rock,
How amazing! What stories are told
By gifted musicians and eighty-eight keys.
In our music room
Eighty-eight keys are played
When I am happy
When I am sad
When I am melancholy
When I am bored
When the holidays approach
And on days that are lonely.
Listen closely to the music
And imagine the story
Unraveling through the notes
Light and lively, slow and trudging
Creating a visual of the colors and climate,
Thoughts and feelings,
Life and loss of the musician
And her eighty-eight keys.
2022 Marathon Mile 5 Poetry Contest
Mark Toney
June 15, 2022
Do not be afraid
So walk in the name of love
I, with open arms