Best Enclosures Poems
MY ROOM OF LIFE
Devotion, Diligence, Activity and Competence
form the building materials to construct my room of Life.
Need, Duty, Honesty and Truth act as enclosures.
Inspiration, Ambition and Achievement are the open windows.
Self- Control finishes the floor.
Open Terrace is made of Love and Dream.
Destiny is the Glass- Ceiling.
Emotion and Passion have done painting
Frustration is the door to escape.
04/04/16
Tale of The Best Contest by Philip Garcia
First Place
Zebras are stripy I’m sure you can see,
Yaks chewing cud as slow as can be,
X-ray tetra in the aquarium are seen,
Warthogs with curly, white tusks that gleam,
Vertebrates aplenty, some invertebrates too,
Usually are seen at a visit to a zoo.
Tapirs with their long funny noses,
Slithering snakes in glass fronted enclosures,
Roaring tigers with camouflage stripe,
Quizzical otters eat eggs that they like,
Puma black prowls through the bush,
Orange orangutans needing a brush.
Never one to refuse a tasty dish
Macaroni penguins smell of fish,
Lions in the sunlight all day sleeping,
Komodo dragons quietly creeping,
Javan Rhinoceros with skin like armour,
Indian elephants size makes such drama,
Hippos with their mouths open wide,
Galapagos tortoise, oh what a prize!
Fennec fox with really long ears,
Endangered animals that people fear,
Dangerous animals taking a nap,
Caiman and crocodile waiting to snap,
Bold zoo keepers picking up poo,
All able to be seen at a trip to the zoo.
for my ever so intelligent, beautiful granddaughter, Juliette
Waking in the garden,
she was the lone bloomer out today-
Peeking from behind her petals,
she saw a few faint sunshine rays-
Soaking in their goodness,
but wanting company-
She sang a melancholy song,
sweet with melody-
Her delicate face smiled,
when she thought she heard a lark-
But it splashed around the birdbath,
then flew off to a near-by park-
“Sweet Juliet” was strong in nature-
all roses knew that true-
But standing alone in the garden,
was beginning to make her blue-
The garden entry was opening,
she could hear the creaking gate,
And saw the ‘ole time gardener,
give his head a shake,
“Well, pretty little lady,”
he said right into her face,
“Bet you’re kind of lonely here,
inside this rose bed place“
Spring was making its entry,
very late into the year,
And “Sweet Juliet,” was finding it,
very hard to quell her fear-
She knew she’d be tended well,
by those hired to give her care-
But usually by this time of year,
there’d be flowers everywhere-
This quaint little English garden,
did not like the winter cold,
And “Sweet Juliet” was wondering,
how much longer her stem would hold-
Then for a moment she was startled,
when upon the ground she saw-
Cornu aspersum - a garden snail,
looking at her in awe-
Her beauty could not be denied,
with cupped rosette form of old-
A popular choice for brides to be,
a “Sweet Juliet” bouquet to hold-
Of 15,000 cultivated varieties,
She’s referred to as the £3 million rose,
After high costs and 14 years of breeding,
She debuted in 2006 flower shows-
She is the royalty of many gardens-
with her peachy-apricot hued blooms-
And not to go unappreciated,
is the scent of her tea-rose perfume-
Well protected through the winter,
with burlap enclosures ‘round her rows-
She’s safe in inclement weather,
and out of reach from cold winds that blow-
It took four weeks for the chill to go,
and the clouds to float away-
“Sweet Juliet” awoke to a buzzing sound,
and knew that spring was here to stay-
She glanced at the roses around her,
and smiled because she wasn’t alone-
For nothing gave her greater joy,
Then having friends to share her home-
Casualties of an enforced lifestyle shiver in the breeze
Along the rugged roads of old dust and ditches that divide
Rest a group of modest enclosures they call home
Built out of left over wood and delivery slates in 90 degrees
They seem content with their simplistic lifestyles and unsightly miles
Water is delivered in worn out trucks and stored in their homes in discarded tanks
There is no sewer system, very few working water systems are scattered
Yet, if you were to pass through for a visit, the women would be cooking with smiles
During the day, men are bused to work in factories and earn fifty dollars a week
Few people have the resources to receive a doctor’s visit and medications
“Anencephaly” a brain birth defect that their infants have, now significantly rise
When it rains there the roads become virtually impassable and unusably bleak
They are a hard working people with values and a drive to nurture their youth
Bathing their children in the same lavadora they wash their dishes in
Tijuana is among one of the poorest places in the world
With these living conditions, it’s hard to turn your back from the truth
Let love fly
-
With ethereal compassion, a soft glow in her eyes,
she picks up the baby eagle, tries to convey words
of eloquent reassurance, sincerely she tries.
Look, June is here this morning; and sun is shining hot;
last night’s storm belongs to last night; it has left an eagle;
a homeless, hurt, upset baby; it feels forlorn, lost, caught.
She takes it home; makes enclosures; feeds it with love, care.
It still feels solo, alone within, fed by love, fed up.
The enclosure of good concern grows smaller with time’s each turn.
The bird’s soul belongs to the sky; in its eyes silent prayer
flares up as it cries; shrill piercing call to its own kind.
Let it fly.
=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar
The Puggily Smidgeburner and the Prettisome Guru
embark on finding Pug love at the town's rare breeds zoo
The guru’s desperately trying to find sad Puggily a date
and if things go to plan perhaps they’d eventually mate
They pass by many enclosures, stopping at the Jangaroo
but Janga was busy bouncing; as a mate she wouldn’t do
Poor Puggily’s crest starts to fall as they peer in every cage
guru says he mustn’t give up hope - he’s such a wise sage!
At the end of an overgrown path they see a big red sign
It says ‘endangered species’, please do not cross this line
But to Puggily Smidgeburner’s amazement and surprise
There’s a female Smidgeburner right before his very eyes
Prettisome Guru has a quiet word with the zoo keeper
he arranges a date so that lonely Puggily can meet her
Puggily’s date is Delicassa she is beautiful and sweet
and Puggily’s determined to sweep her right off her feet
They agree to meet next day on the dot at half past two
but Delicassa arrives a little late, as females often do!
She’s got tiny rainbow braids adorning her blonde hair
Puggily holds her paw, they chat away without a care
Very soon they are inseparable, he’s found his mate for life
after a whirlwind romance Delicassa becomes Puggily’s wife
In time she gives birth to Carena, their family’s complete
and both of them agree married life just cannot be beat!
The Puggily Smidgeburner and the Prettisome Guru Poetry Contest
Contest sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
3/24/19
Spring was here
The dark skies opened
Its canopy for pristine clouds
To crown the blue mountains
I opened the windows
To breathe in its freshness
Smiled at the love birds
That had made their winter home
In the corners of my home
Twittering and shrieking
When I rolled up
Their covered enclosures
I walked in my pansy quad
Glowed to see the saplings
Of the seeds I had sown
A season ago
Had started flowering
The pansies smiled in the ferns
Like school children in a play
Everyday I saw their stages
From budding to blooming
Like the birth of my children
In a season of love
March 20, 2016
Contest : Spring
Sponsor : Catie Lindsey
My Response To Rumi
A composite man was this Rumi Mystic who penned ‘Spiritual Couplets’ thousands
of magical lines of Persian poetry deep he lives on in simple (?) bites of
three lines condensed confluent cracking proverbial nutshells soft in their core
He’s buried in the Konya of Anatolian wisdom a place I am seeking to visit
on my insider travels and have been compelled from into imagination and spirit of
mind where the tree of life throws seeds on the shadows of tumbling body and soul
~~ Rumi lives on once we destroy what destroys us tear down the partitions ~~
‘Healing by allowing to fall ill’ ‘searching for defenses within’ barriers fortresses
imposing enclosures self built contraptions that prevent love kindness compassion
Dysfunction and illness derive from inside thus we can either attempt to strive
against mere symptoms and torturous outcrops bandage the hurt on the
surface or take a good look at the messages crises fall together for a while reflect
with serene mirrors of honesty reject the temptation futile attempts of aligning
broken shards into yet another fragmentation sinking once more into darkness
Rummaging rumination and running head on into the same walls again and again
never achieved to manage my mangled madness into meaning and peace
but acceptance and searching inside with the purpose of healing following three
~~ simple lines brought Rumi to life and myself back into light and true love~~
27th November 2016
"If you desire healing,
let yourself fall ill
let yourself fall ill."
- Jalaluddin Rumi
Why to die before your death
Indulging in consolations
An aim not for murdered self
Plunging into lifeless entity.
Overwhelming desire cast in situ
Superlative indulgence in fine state
A thunderous uproar approaching
An open sky for resident into
Silent streams running across land
Lodged in vacant spots of mind
Still striving for a different kind.
Be born again, every breath
Clogged not in machinery of world
Comforted not in the bee hives
Living agonized in sets of turbulence
Embraced by wizened wilderness.
And write not to cling
Within enclosures of limited space
But rebellious in more subtle kind
For the spirit to think and blaze.
When I tread in a lone world
Lost in a cloud of misery
My thoughts wax into
Looming mountains
In an intolerant world.
The eyes dust away
The silvern reel unrolled
Scalloping the edges
Of ebony clouds over
Homes of broken souls.
Blindfolded eyesight is
Ruled by mysteries of suffering.
Just then a voice murmurs
In the enclosures of all razed souls.
It is like a strong gust
Flying past your unquiet home.
Leave it in the hands
Of destiny which will teach you
How to unlock your woeful heart
Of your tethered self to let
Your sorrows just unroll.
Balveen Cheema
November 7, 2015
Spiral carved spheres on long green stems
brimming with redness
Fiery egos afloat in spring air
Layered petal enclosures, soft cups,
paper thin,
Leaves tapered upward in brisk solidarity
Beneath the sun, unapologetic and fierce
Rebel flowers, masters of attention
Bulbs cradled in mottled ground
To set the spring in motion,
when sight is subdued by a stage of blooms
escape hatch from burdens worldly
from whatever drags us into bleakness
Unblemished red tulips, clumped together,
a shrine
the ruddiness of momentary
that moves your soul
when you are silent
On a hilltop not so far from Rhyl
Mother took us to the Zoo as Mothers will
The wind was strong and cold, the air was harsh
Although it was in August, not in March
Vultures in enclosures chained by leg
Like convicts in a prison full of dread
When they vainly tried to get away
I felt their faith and hope dismayed
Who had chosen birds like these to show?
Even God himself would never know
Entertainment,sadism, power
Making people pay and children cower
When we got back to the station I was sick
What cruel minds played such a trick?
Is so spectacular.
They're man made places
To show us how aquatic
Things live underwater.
The huge water filled enclosures
Are decorated spaces
For each inhabitant
Which makes them unique
And hospitable.
Children are educated,
While being fascinated,
And insatiable
While enjoying the calming effect of the
Aquarium.
Poetry Soup friends are rare, yet precious treasures
Offering kindred bond beyond poetic measures
Empowering communication prowess midst word-usage pressures
Tending to souls with every remarkable message that assures
Reaching hearts’ fissures with hope and love enclosures
Yes, indeed expressing honest approval of favor’s pleasures.
So privileged am I to have friends in this global poetry site
Opening to me opportunities to express myself as I earnestly indite*
Upon truths I believe can build lives according to what’s right
Prompted by my faith and relationship with God of blissful delight.
Friends, I thank you for your kind comments
Really pleased am I with your sincere encouragements
Influencing me to do my best in my submission-engagements
Enabling poetic gift* to be harnessed through your compliments---
Nourished and nurtured midst varied sentiments and predicaments
Dealt well around differing perspectives in my exposure-involvements
Satisfied am I, sustained with triumph of writing endowments.
*Psalm 45:1 My heart is inditing a good matter: I speak of the things which I have made touching the king: my tongue is the pen of a ready writer.
**2Timothy 1:6 Wherefore I put thee in remembrance that thou stir up the gift of God, which is in thee by the putting on of my hands.
September 23, 2019
3rd place, "Pick a Friend on Soup" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Bobby May; judged on 9/27/2019.
Let love fly
=
With ethereal compassion, a soft glow in her eyes,
she picks up the baby eagle, tries to convey words
of eloquent reassurance, sincerely she tries.
Look, June is here this morning; and sun is shining hot;
last night’s storm belongs to last night; it has left an eagle;
a homeless, hurt, upset baby; it feels forlorn, lost, caught.
She takes it home; makes enclosures; feeds it with love, care.
It still feels solo, alone within, fed by love, fed up.
The enclosure of good concern grows smaller with time’s each turn.
The bird’s soul belongs to the sky; in its eyes silent prayer
flares up as it cries; shrill piercing call to its own kind.
Let it fly.
=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar