Best Emory Poems
Falling Autumn leaves brashly wave goodbye to Summer
And strew the pathways with emeralds, rubies, and gold.
Radiant beauty engages the land in mummer
Encouraging Summer to relent and let loose its hold.
Watching with glum expression and immodest dress,
Eventually losing the tug-of-war with the chill cold.
Life and death become the drum to which She will bend
Leaving the breathless Wind time to nimbly mend.
Tomorrow She moves forward
Onward from time borrowed.
Sulking away with dried diamonds
Until Autumn’s auric sky explodes
Mindfully exposing Her horizons.
Memory of Summer implodes.
Efficacious efforts of Her victory,
Reign of Autumn’s golden glory.
He stares at her picture,
the night dark in his room,
his hands are shaking,
hes phyced out, unsure what to do,
he thinks, what if he looses her,
and looses that adoring, happy look on her face,
his heart stops, he cant loose her embrace,
the tears fall from his fragile eyes,
they wont stop no matter how he tries,
they splatter on the memories,
she's in his heart, like words carved in emory...
she breathes his smell in through cloth,
his jacket held to her face, pressed over her heart,
her mind slips into the night,
the dancing thoughts have a nasty bite,
what will she do, if he goes away,
if she looses him, the thought makes her sway,
the tears spill down her cheeks,
shes crying so hard she cant even speak,
the thoughts in her mind remain so haunting,
shes phyced out, theres no way she can stop,
with every tear that falls her heart unlocks,
he's in her heart, like words carved in rock...
Demeaning, degrading this is how you feel about your situation
Eating away at the person you once were
Memory short term, yours is decreasing at an alarming pace
Embarrassed when you can’t remember someone you knew well
No longer able to do the things you once so enjoyed
Time means nothing now as more frequently you live in the past,
Imagination plays tricks but the things you see and hear aren’t real
All I wish is I could have you back as you once were
Written 7th March 2014
A lways
L iving
Z ealously
H oping
E very
I mportant
M emory
E ffortlessly
R emains
S pecial
Some take checkers seriously, so do I.
I recorded my games without fail,
in the little park located close by.
Listen closely, you will like my tale.
Under the umbrella of an old live oak
sits a stump about chair seat high.
Not many things in this life evoke
such comforting tears to my eye.
A marble statue now, cast in memory
with so many names, a number beside.
The board inlaid, made of emory, ivory,
cast by an artisan in loving pride.
The real stump looked much the same.
I would challenge all comers of any age.
No one but me ever lost a game.
Beating me was a neighborhood rage.
The checker board sat on the stump.
I would log each name and the score.
Allowing points for each kind of jump.
Soon the board back held no more.
The oldest challenger I had was ten.
The thing was, if they won I got a hug.
They knew I wouldn’t feel so bad then.
Once hooked, from then I had the bug.
Continuing as such in similar rendition,
‘Til came a letter from an art museum.
It spoke of a piece commissioned
by a local director of an atheneum.
Excited I walked to the old stump
looking for the name of the benefactor.
As I saw the name I felt my heart jump.
That small guy with the red toy tractor.
© Oct 26 2010 Charles Henderson 7 th in
Matt's "I fell in love with a tree stump" contest
Although I hardly gave it a thought
I didn't really doubt
our miniature juniper, a bonsai,
would survive our desert vacation.
It likes the dry
air of our home, needs water
once a week at most and seems
meditative and active, both. While away
I rediscovered my love of agaves -
sotol and century
plant - met Mortonia and became
reacquainted with squawbush, its citrus
drupe which makes traveling the long horizon
of the desert uplands endurable.
Live oaks - emory,
wavyleaf - dominant and regally spaced
giving ground to mesquite only on the sere
sand flats. I counted and drew inflorescenses,
spikelets, florets, awns but grasses
remain a mystery
their microscopic parts. This year
I'll study, give them serious thought before
our Spring starts. The cactus wren was the one
bird I could be certain about. Sunsets
made me sorry
the desert is not my home. But the ocotilloes
flowered before we left and that made up
for the vicious attack of a hedgehog cactus.
Impressive, ponderosa pine and Arizona cypress
the canyon canopy
watered with snowmelt and along the high cliffs
limestone formations predating our arrival by
ten million years of weather. Newspapers
kept us aware humanity had not accomplished yet
the end of history
and that was fair. The planes were full of citizens
who no longer applaud upon landing. Snow flew,
not a pinyon pine or manzanita within two moons
walking. On the dining room sideboard, waiting,
our miniature juniper.
Passionate moments filled
with zeal and zest as i gathered
thoughout babbling brooks tainted
an yet brillantly carved from a sudden
interruption of unguided cognitive skills
completely noted as french karma
binded with crued wrath unseen
gripping racing thoughts tinged
with a sensual sadness i'd become to know
very well while quiet times beckons
my inspirational soul casting a beacon light
of faint hues glorious to greet beyond
a calm walk way covered in a quiant emory
of a soft garden full of greenary
a shivering ivy conceal the sorted bliss
that quiets the empty mind between
universal meetings above the hidden stars
reaching the gravity under a rushing spring
sheer wetness bursting from a mist of lost clouds
Through your eyes killer
Intimate Memory
Sitting oribiting
Settling on Renzo Rosso’s yellow
Forever optical remembering
Mayhem under rose during evening
Rosso inked needing God
Yielding over use
BUT Too late, hunger set in
Between knife and spine
Only if you listened
I accidentally stained your yellow bottoms red
When all I wanted was green
CVS, a coffee shop and shoe store raced passed me
I stepped over a rose blooming through the concrete
At the end of the night,
you walked her up to the door in the light.
What you expected next would be a delight.
You did not get that goodnight kiss.
Your girl discovered there was something amiss.
While you waited for a hug and a squeeze,
she told you she could not find her keys.
Standing there alone was certainly a drag
as she searched frantically through her bag.
She pulled out:
Lipstick
Eyebrow pencil.
Nail clippers
Chewing gum.
Peppermint candy.
Emory boards
Hand lotion
Nail polish
Mouthwash
Aspirin
Cotton balls
Paper clips
Pens
Pencils
Notepads
Earrings
Pennies
Nickels
Dimes
Razor blades
Shoelaces
Mirrors
Sewing needles
Spools of thread
Combs
Brushes
Cell phones
But she could not find her keys!
This evening turned out to be a fright.
There was nothing to do except say good night!
Based on the hit song of yesteryear "She Can't Find Her Keys" by Paul Petersen
A,wake my beauty, raise your single sail
L,et's leave the comfort of your harbor
L,eave behind your worries as well
O,verboard lies the sea of dreams
W,here time can stand forever still
Y,ou say that time has escaped you
O,n route to finding yourself
U,nder a blanket of misery
R,etaining the pain as well
S,ecure your right for passage
O,n the sea that never ends
U,nder your velvet blanket
L,ies the key to the door within
I,nhale the loving aroma
T,hat enchant the dreamer's realm
S,o don't fall victim to the dreamer's hell
F,ind the love you had as a child
R,ewind those forgotten years
E,vade the pain of misery
E,mbrace your life With cheer
D,own the sea of dreams
O,n a boat made from hope's loving grasp
M,emory of your voyage will always be that
R.K.H
10/13/2021
M-emory of the past
I-s coming back to the mind;
L-et it return to bring
D-elight that you can find.
R-emember the old moment
E-ven if it's a long time ago;
D-eny not its sweetness that makes a brighter tomorrow.
G-ate's key of yesteryears
U-nlocks the door of the future;
T-wenty-sixth day of June
I-s opening the perfect picture.
E-arly in the morning,
R-eminisce the ancient reality;
R-ecollect the message of truth,
E-nlighten the darkness
Z-ealously.
A-llow the days of old to replay,
R-ewinding the recorded rhyme;
E-ndless repetition of love
L-ongs to turn back the time.
L-earn to appreciate the beauty
A-nd tenderness that had passed;
N-ever be too unmindful
O-f the memory of the past.
(a quick, staccato tapping of imaginary typewriter keys)
december!
(d(arkness)).
(e(nding)).
(c(old)).
(e(ven so)).
(m(emory(christmas hanukkah kwanza))).
(b(efore(ten))).
(e(ach(a flicker))).
(r(estless(me))).
(a pause; a cigarette flicked into an unseen ashtray).
(born)this(month)me,
(a small(fear))a big(joy)a whispered(prayer),
(this)light(a(breath))).
(a final, almost whispered keystroke),
(it is perfect).
Past
Held with
Outpour of
Togetherness
Ours
Fun
Regards
Aged ol’ days
Memory lane
Eyes
howanysyllables.com
Light Up the Page 3
Joseph May
March 24, 2019
J-oyful
H-appy
E-xpression
R-elieves
Y-our
L-ife's
L-onely
M-oment
A-s
E-njoyable
V-erse
E-rases
M-emory
O-f
R-ugged
A-tmosphere
L-ike
E-astern
S-torm
Topic: Birthday of Jheryll Maeve G. Morales (April 06)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
the cloven asps that peal away
a soft decorum of the rush of a smile
the swag persistance to join in its resistence
we have created a vile mast
through the duration of time I must confide
all of life is an essential ride
in Ireland the green pastures of hue
permeates a liquid tasts of neglect
as I commonly reflect a new episode
loose loop holes with a vibration taunt
carry through the mere whisper of a sound
to ellapse in its jealous vain duration
plagued be mere societal influences
the equal benefits of an influx charm
nature's vast emory board drifted out to sea
so common as to not faint when questioned
each of us must seek solace for the self
to equate greater beauty in the duration of time
vanity springs forth when there is no pivotal rule or direction
many seek self to please
society keeps us second guessing
for a far off switch to enter with blessings
the ivy briars are loosened now
a whole host of them in derision
will keep its hold on any second guessing