Best Espousing Poems


Premium Member Laments of My Heart

I hear the voices you once bequeathed to me
Enchanting concert music in symphony of love
But I left the theater before the show was over
Walking all alone in the missteps of contempt,
Endorsing the reticence of unspoken words.

Deep in my psyche these memories now reside
Where devoid of fond smiles, blossoms have dried.

As I refuse to accept that I’ve lost you forever
Echoes of outcry from the unsung emotions
Poignantly evoke the saddest lines of discourse
In conversations espousing laments of my soul,

Within backstreets of mind amid chaos of thoughts
Having lost directions to dreamlands of the past,

For I refused the promise in winter’s goodbye
And rejected fiery passions of autumnal vibes,

As I squashed the dreams in flights of monarchs—
Never kissing fragrant lips of doting ambrosia.

Though you guided me through twilight of romance
I struggled in ineptitude of lovesick night of dark—

Oh, how I missed my mark beneath the northern star!

As my storm keeps churning, hosting a cyclone,
The rivers, once calm, have flooded my crops
And gusty winds ravaged dismantling my farm
And tall weeds have now occupied my sidewalks,

As dissonance of our love remorsefully squalls
Within indecisive nomenclature of my timid heart.

September 25, 2019
Placed 1st: In the backstreets of my mind poetry contest
Sponsor: Silent One
Placed 3rd: Strand select C contest by Brian Strand
Categories: espousing, love hurts,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Stanza Writes Her Self

Woken from a sound sleep
listening to the walls breathe
sense something new on the cusp
of my imagination island
ears perking up
feel like I am not alone

hear the last five words of a poem
ideas flickering from my bowels
living poetry is difficult
loving poetry easier
I know a spirit guide is here
wanting me to do something
I wait for a sign

poems nestle in my soul heart
covert missives
espousing a truth
I do not recognize
a complete stanza writes herself
in my mind’s eye
I shudder
time to write
my soul knows
Categories: espousing, poems, write, writing,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Red Sky Over Cairo

A lifetime of waiting, stacks of National
Geographic half as tall as me, piled on
every step. A girl with nothing to do but dream.

The yellow-black jackets buzzed, I flowered
as I turned the pages. The relics of Tutankhamun
fascinated: gold, turquoise, lapis and the slaves
in mud-brick houses they live in still.

I longed to be the Pharaoh’s daughter;
I kohled my eyes.

Egypt called to me. Pyramids, deserts baking,
heat mirages, and oases of palms with still blue water.

The twenty-first century’s reality is far different.
Cairo teems with discontent, Mubarak’s campaign
posters hung from each lamppost.
Two weeks before the Arab Spring, I was there.
The only safety found behind the gun-guarded,
razor-wired gates of the upper class, and even then—

A country espousing religious freedom was killing
Coptic Christians in the streets, and bombing churches.
Cairo’s one poster child synagogue stood empty,
except for tourists—dark, decorative, haunting,
full of tales of Christ’s sojourn in Egypt?

The pyramids rose hen-pecked by pollution
through a surreal orange sky. Masked women
walk the male dominated streets. Women
live in fear in or out of the hijab.

The majesty of yesteryear, the pyramid of Giza
squats like a discard in the ashtray of desert.
Vendors and tourist litter the site.
Baksheesh is the only God in Egypt,
baksheesh and the horded water of the Nile.


First Published in here & there magazine
in the UK
Categories: espousing, anxiety, fear, travel,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Dear Dada

Dear dada
add an “ist”
to it all

I reject 
in the face 
of it all 

Aestheticism 

true beauty 
is found in the 
ugliness of it all

peaking out 
under coverlets 
of mud 

throwing 
spit balls
of pulchitrude

wrapped up 
time bombs
that stick 

to the banal 
unexpected beauty …
of it all, 

ambitious 

edges and curves
open and inviting 
accompanied by caveats

there will be
splendid over-ripe 
gardens of Eden 

followed teasingly 
in close pursuit, by the
madhatters’ tea parties

and Hugos' balls
rooms too large, 
and rooms too small

it’s all 
rather 
simple

underneath 
the dirt
of it all 

precious
and most expensive
jewels are found

smudged kisses
mascara stained 
cheeks of Cinderellas

holding spaces
for roses are red
and violets are blue

daisy chains
of love me 
love me knots

tightly
tied 
small victories

virtues held 
and lost, conquests
stroking glass slippers

drinking in the gins
and espousing 
their 3 wishes

looking for 
long lost Kings
failing that, 

settling for 
paupers, not
princes 

their crystal balls
over brave and 
missing the mark

shattering 

then later
lying unclaimed
under the sun 

melting
through the 
flaws 

Dear dada
add an “ist”
to it all

escapist
artist 
tourist 

minimalist
extremist
illusionist

fatalist
but never 
realist

escape artist

mud wrestling naked
in poetic jello, at the
Cabaret Voltaire






Candide Diderot. ‘24 





Dadaist.
Categories: espousing, art, muse, poets, satire,
Form: Free verse

Beauty and Brains

A very interesting, yet a confounding topic
That may perhaps raise a storm in a teacup
Those espousing the cause of women’s lib
Might find it disparaging and worth a snub.

Anyone can be as cute as one can be; in fact
But it is yet better to be wise than to be sweet
For brains will guide ever in life; a true friend
But in beauty one finds a playmate; short-lived.

For beauty is temporary that lasts for a while
It fades away with each passing day’s smile
It is not the outward appearance that is vital
But one’s own soul’s doing that is beautiful.

Generally beauty demands added attention
But it is the brain that commands position
The ignorant countless madly chase beauty
But a chosen few pursue brains diligently.

Thus it is better for the fairer sex to concede
That the peripheral beauty is but skin deep
And what truly in the long run matters most
Is certainly not looks but grey matter intact.
Categories: espousing, beauty, confusion, wisdom, ,
Form: Free verse

Cocooned

Winter's crisp yet early breath whispered to me this eve
A yearly session as we, the cold and me, gather
Conferring when, when can I join her, join her as she 
gallops wild and free-

Life has been cocooned, reigned tight and sensory 
deprived-
all I cry for is the wild. The wild and the wind, as I was 
meant to follow-
Espousing her movements is where I was meant to be.

How could you know?
Wrapped in a thick, sticky web of dubiety, never has she, 
the wind,
seen me free. Dreams of conifers and dancing emerald 
aurora always
calling to me, always calling and pulling me. 

Yet, in this populated, polluted cocoon I remain as a 
corpse, 
not as a thing wild. A thing to lick raindrops off grass and 
go where the day seizes me, never to wander among the 
honeysuckle and bees, listening... just listening...

Concrete, lights, noise, horns, words, highways, bi-ways, 
runaways, flyaways
Speak easies, slippery tongues, silty breaths, monitors, 
breaks, jump ropes,
shoes, bonds, bonds- chains. Always chained. 

Bosses, fights, liars, diers, criers, things always moving, 
changing, squirming, vibrating, stinking, pissing, kissing, 
f***ing.

Disease and lies- untruth to ones own self. 
Utter self deception- the worst sin of all.
The cold wind fingers my hair, touching intimately
the parts she wishes to follow her-

the cocoon wraps even tighter, pushing her away, 
completely away.
But I can still smell her and know she wants me.
She knows I want her, she knows I love her, 

she knows I will die before ever truly knowing her.
© Amy Green  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: espousing, confusion, me,
Form: Carpe Diem


A Wish

A Wish

For children sired from out of wedlock
Roaming the streets, begging for alms
With weary eyes from a day’s plight
To get their crumbs  and spare  the night

For girls robbed and sanctity trampled
Buried in rut,  and scared to move
Spurned and cast away from home
With queuing lads to buy her form

For souls scorned and gloomed
Who live a  life of doom and misfortunes 
May find their life at the end of the fork
Espousing all strength, and daring to move.
Categories: espousing, sympathy, life,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Some Choices We Regret

Some Choices We Regret
Written: by Miracle Man
2/5/2023

Sometimes in life we will make bad choices,
while believing that some have no escape.
During waning years comes to us voices,
saying, “time don’t allow for life reshape”.

Certain choices we’d thought were forever,
so with mental distress we’re now beset.
Being late in life, one choice we won’t sever,
so declining years contain much regret.

So we spend many hours backward browsing,
searching for a time that might give us hope.
Both were not given to same idea espousing,
so in sorrow we now cling to a knotless rope.
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: espousing, anxiety, health, life, love,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member My Hero - My Dad

I grew up holding a dear man in high esteem,
And as strange to you as it may seem,
Though there was a plethora of heroes to be had,
My all time hero was and is my dear old Dad!

He led his family by setting a Godly example.
His loving kindness was more than ample.
Struggling through the Great Depression,
Supporting his family was his only obsession!

He was a devout believer in God and his nation,
And was always active in his congregation.
Dad was a firm believer in the Golden Rule,
Espousing that old adage teaching Sunday School!

Though he has been gone for many years,
I still think of him and shed rueful tears,
As I recall the greatest hero I know of.
Care of his family and others was a labor of love.

He made no ripples as he traveled life's rocky road,
And with many burdens his back was bowed.
Just an ordinary factory worker in the local town,
No doubt in Heaven he wears a many-starred crown!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved

A tribute to my father, William John Hinshaw
Categories: espousing, family, father, hero, old,
Form: Rhyme

Truth

Truth is clear and One, but the veils of belief
hide outward constructs causing spiritual grief.

The Word is Truth, in reading some comprehend
but the heart’s intuition does not transcend

the Spirit’s intent, so, afraid to awake 
and slumbering ‘til death, His truth still opaque

revealing dirty mirrors of illusion,
but still espousing pride’s hidden confusion.

The Truth is eventually diluted—
the fruit bearing tree becoming uprooted

with truth’s seeds being cast in Love’s wind waiting
for Allah’s planting of rebirth, creating

fresh hope and flourishing gardens of His Will
always reborn, Truth never becoming nil.
Categories: espousing, faith, religious, spiritual,
Form: Masnavi

Happiness Lies Within

Why do we search so far and wide


for fruitless quests of worth?


Or confirmation of valued deed


from external source unimpressed?


Why strive for others to conform while


espousing how needy they are?


Then when eventually let down, no surprise there,


why hide behind drug or jug?


External the search, so my experience has been,


seems the easiest path to take.


Yet doesn’t it seem that path is often


a rotary to where you began?


Outwardly we search, when all the while,


our answers are very close by.


Seldom we dare to look near by for the fear


that we harbor inside.


The answers, we fear, reveal a truth we fear,


that our true selves are ugly and vile.


Yet I’ve learned the truth, faced my ugliness inside,


changed what I wanted and accepted the rest.


Face yourself, be honest to you, choose who you are today.


Stop looking out, look in at yourself


keep what makes you happy and lose the rest.
Categories: espousing, allegory, drug,
Form: Free verse

Return My Love

She is adorn in henna blooms
Her lips as red as crimson
Her fragrance fills rooms like pillars of smoke
Perfumed with myrrh and frankincense
 
Betrothed to One Husband  
A marriage of minds
A virgin hard to find
A chaste virgin Bride
She is called to be Holy
Pure and intolerant to sin
A spotless wife without blemish
She bears pleasant fruits, the very best
 
She has marred her beauty
She has turned away and is gone
She has given in to idolatry
Espousing to another deity
She’s like a leaven that leavens the lump
The Bride in town is corrupted
 
 
“Your garment is greatly polluted; you have played the harlot with many lovers,
yet return to me”, says the Lord. Jeremiah 3:1b
Categories: espousing, beautiful, divorce, engagement, forgiveness,
Form: Free verse

Tae a Cherry

Wee, wee rid rid coated thing
tae ma hert sic joy yea bring.
Wae elegance an' tender charm,
ma racin' hert yea sae disarm.

Yea hang there among yer kind,
Bright an' braw but sae refined.
Ma wee rid rid coated friend,
sae Bonny, I'll nae pretend.

Each year fur us yea come along,
espousing nature's sweetest song.
A song not o' sound but o' exotic taste.
a taste fur oor lucky paletes tae be graced.

Here fur oanly a wee wee time,
yea mak ma taste buds gently chime.
Tastin' like nuthin' else oan this earthy place.
wae yer wee rid rid bonny smilin' face.

Frae yer parent tree yea duly burst ,
as a wee fluer yer gently nursed.
Caressed by bees yer scent doth bring,
eventually tae be a wee green pimply thing,

Bathed wae the Sun's life giving rays,
growing, maturing in such a wondrous way.

Changin', yellow, pink, noo tae yer rid rid style,
tae a Bonny Cherry tae please us fur a wee wee while.
Av jist picked yea up frae among yer like,
frae the box foo o' Cherries whay are jist alike.

But you ma wee wan are jist fur me,
hope yer taste is in the proper key.
Oh my, sic a burst o' pleasure,
ma wee wee rid rid bloomin' treasure.

Say juicy say sparklin' ma mooth foo o' joy,
wunnerful, exotic, aw ma senses yea do employ.
hank yea, thank yea ma wee rid rid friend,
yer the greatest, aye I'll nae pretend.

Tull next year, tull wee meet again,
whin I'll listen tae yer song o' sweet refrain.

A song o' taste an' no o' sound,
o' tasting magic from aw Cherries abound.
Rest now yer gentle parent tree,
an' please bloom anither day fur me tae see.


The Auld Yin.
Categories: espousing, nature, song, song,
Form: Quatrain

Premium Member Vignette-Love and Devotion

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, born 1806,
Extraordinary Poetess, daughter, sister, wife, Abolitionist 
Confined for a time yet her heart, mind and spirit
Roamed free beyond her environment, espousing, expressing
Love and devotion so eloquently in beautiful Sonnets

To:  Elizabeth Barrett Browning


Entry into Brian Strand's Vignette-Literary Love Affair Contest
Categories: espousing, dedication
Form: Narrative

British Traits That Ain'T So Great

We as British people are known around
the world for our own individual traits

Such as we are supposed to be and
thought of as polite

Love ever so saying and apologizing
for anything and everything even if it
isn't actually in fact out fault

People say we even love and don't
mind queuing

Our self deprecating sarcastic sense
of humor 

The Crown a Royal wedding like when
Harry met Megan 

But there are also a few other traits that 
can be added to the list which aren't
that great , such as

How we love espousing our views and
values upon the world at large with such
overbearing righteousness and sincerity

Well that is all well and good if in fact
theoretically it actually worked in practice
and we had managed to solve our own
problems here closer at home first

No 1 has quite ever explained why we
can't don't or are unable to rather try fixing
our own 1st before we go in search of others 

And I promise then I will start worrying about
the plight of the snow leopards of Afghanistan
homeless cat's 3rd world debt and adopting
a child or building a school in god knows where

When I have any spare change left after
tripping over and giving to the homeless
on my doorstep or soon to be able to afford
and provide either electricity or food for
my own family 

Who made us the arbiter of the world
and best placed to right and solve
all of the world's problems and wrongs

Our day's of Empire are long gone we
are no longer technically a superpower 

Maybe it's time to start concentrating on
matter's here closer to home 

And try instilling and restoring a bit 
or some sense of pride back in all
of our own 

Because everyone would benefit from
that and wouldn't only be good but
Great for all of us who reside here in Britain
Categories: espousing, slam,
Form: Free verse
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