Best Ev Poems


Premium Member The Devils Mugshot

I                 f
                                        y              o
                                        ue           ve
                                       rwo          nde
                                       red          wha
                                      the             loo
                                     ksli             kein
                                    theli            ghtha
                                    rdto              sayi
                                  only see  hi   matnigh
                                  takeshapeyouknowoth
                                erpeoplesformevenanima
                               lsanythingtobeinthenormhe
                              llcometoandtrytodealdonteve
                              rdoityouwontgetanappealhell                           
                             offeranythingtoeverythingtoge
                             tyoutosignthenhelldanceaways
                             tartto  singthetradesee  mscoo
                             land     nditwillbefunw     henp
                            aym   e   ntisdueyour    s   ouli
                            sdo   ney  oucanbeli     ev   em
                           eors    a    yitsmyimag    i    nati
                          onbut       whenhecome       stoge 
                         tyoutherewillbenohestitionthelakeof
                          fireyoucanfeeltheheatandsmellthe 
                           burningmeattorturedsoulsevery 
                             wher eitswaytolatetobew are 
                               any   kindoftorturethe   nh 
                               ewil    lgiveyoutohisd    em 
                               onsw     henhesthro     ugh 
                                 itwil       lbepainl       ike 
                                  youn                      eve 
                                   rknewyouwillscreaman 
                                     dwishforittobedoneb 
                                       butyourpainmyfri 
                                         hasonlybegund 
                                           ontworryyou 
                                             rnottheon 
                                               lyoneim 
                                                 done
© Jay Moore  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Rags to riches, Parody'

You took this man from rags to riches..When you spent all
Heaven had to spare.' Your Sons blood bought me real redemption..Oh Father how you truly care.'

Now I'll no longer be that beg-gar.' You've made my golden
Dreams come true..' For He took my rags and gave back
Riches, now my destiny is up to you.'

My clothes may still be torn and tattered..Yet in my heart I
Hold the King.' Although my pockets may be empty..
His Love is all... That really matters.' Its ev-ry-thing!

Repeat on this stanza.'
He opened His arms on that cross though hurt sore.' He
Offered me treasure of life in great store.' He went  through
Grim death
And kicked in hells dark doors' Now I'll hold Him and 
Kiss Him.' And keep Him for mine evermore.!!


You took this man from rags to riches, you spent all heaven
Had to spare.' Your Sons Love bought me real redemption
Oh Father how you truly care.'


 Now I'm forever not that beg-gar..You've made my golden
Dreams come true.' For He took my rags; and gave back riches, now my destiny is up to You..)  End..'

Everything Is Fine

I.

Everything is fine. Everything is. Everything. Fine.
Then her heart stops beating.
The world looks the same, right?
How long has it been since she's eaten?
Is she still alive?
I think so?
Everything.
Fine.
She'll come back, she always does.
Everything.
Every.
Ev.
.
She'll bounce back, it's what she does.
.
.
Goodbye. 
Then you're gone, at least your soul is.
Everything inside you is dead.
You feel nothing.
You inhabit a body floating throughout life.
No direction or purpose.
That's one emotion.
Everything.
Fine.
Numb.

II.

Everything is fine.
Everything... Water? Fire? Lungs?
Not now!
She can't breathe.
Her body is on fire.
Water fills her lungs.
She gasps for air.
No one notices
 It's just asthma. 
She's falling into a black hole.
Everything is black.
Every limb on her body gives way.
 No one saw her trip.
She's just clumsy. 
Tears stream down her face.
 She has something in her eye. 
She gasps for breath.
 Is there a smoker around? 
She can't feel her limbs.
 She has bad circulation. 
She goes silent.
 She's just shy. 
She's on fire. She's on ice. She can't breathe. She can't speak. She can't think. She can't see. She can't hear. 
 She just zoned out.
She'll be fine, she always is. 
Everything Fine.

Everything.
Not.
Fine.
Not.
Fi.
Nnn.
.
.

.


Premium Member This All Could Be

This All Could Be
AtTractions of the urban surfer,
ExHibits at the shored enclaves,
AbIde the faithful their sole journey,
BaSking rays of summer's retreat,

CoAstal clutter of crowds roll on,
CeLebrities of the day made true,
LuLled breaks in surf even the tide,

NeCks swivels as eyes scouts the beach,
GoOd times are roaring inland,
MoUnting waves indulges the brave,
DeLving surfs stirs the underwater sands,
DaD's and mom's diligently relaxed a tad,

InBounds revitalize the distracted weary,
EvE set in submission of the day's exchange.

2019 September 04

*3rd Place*

Pick A Title, Vol 8 - Acrostic
~~Edward Ibeh
3. This All Could Be
© Hilo Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Royal Purple Purse

More than the lips that meet-
Deliberately smooth…
Deliciously soothing…
Sensually sliding…
Heaven sent,
As a royal-purple purse,
Its treasures freeze frame-
All troubles paid off,
And we learn and we learn
The lessons of love
Over decades of marital bliss,
Obtained not through perfection
But in the bruising of roses,
Petals that color our lips
That lovely shade
Of me and you,
Forever-after, true…
For-ev-er-y day
is Valentine’s Day, Darling!

Kim Rodrigues (c) 2022

Indescribable Feelings For You

I Have so much                                                 to say, yet little
               words to describe what                                    i really feel.............for you
          I love you more than you know..                    You make my heart soar with ev-
       very word you say; every smile you make. I try not to look into your eyes because I
     know if I stare to long I will get lost in your eyes.I Wish everyone could see your      sweet
 and caring side..Everyone could then realize why i love you so much, but then.......... no one
could understand how much i love you. My feelings for you don’t go into words so easily it is
 just so hard to describe all my feelings for you, and im pretty sure you would know how that
     feels, like everyone when there in love.. The truth is no one has ever loved someone as
         much as i love you.. It seems like each day i love you more and more; You pull me
            closer and closer as i fall for you. You have made me feel beautiful and the truth
               is no one has ever made me feel that way. You have made me see that there
                   really is a reason to live; Your my reason.. I was lost until i found you.
                       No one understands me like you do. I can be very complicated
                           and stubborn at times, but you still continue to talk to me,
                               thats hard honestly for anyone.. I never realized you
                                    would be my boyfriend and best friend at the
                                         same time; Thats a real relationship..
                                             Your the only person i can trust,
                                                  with my life and secrets.
                                                        I Just wanna say
                                                               I Love
                                                                 You


Premium Member Anesthesia

a
no pain
existence,
simple in its
total dark twilight,
healing hush, calm as death
extreme sense of sweet silence
serene, no fear, no hate, painless
ill conceived dreams without stimuli
as (nine... eight... sev...) thoughts     have     eased (six...) I,      aaa...



12/12/15

Premium Member Hold Me Father God

HOLD ME FATHER GOD

Hold me
Ever so closely
Lord, Father God
Hold me
Tight in your arms
Hold me
Ever so tightly
And don’t ev-ver… let me GO!

Kiss me
Father, ever so sweetly
Secrete in me your Holy Spirit
Allow in me to prosper and grow in space
Grant me Lord God your amazing grace

Surround me
With your eternal treasures
Allow in me to grow beyond measure
Hold me
Ever so closely Lord God

Hold me
Tight in your arms
Hold me
Ever so tightly
And don’t ev-ver… let me GO!


11/06/18
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.©2018

Tractor

T he tractor has pulled up outside my door.
R acing to the window when I hear it's roar.
A ll dressed up for this date.
C an't wait to head out with my mate.
T he link box is hooked up, all shined.
O ver goes my leg as I jump on behind.
R ev her up, I'm covered in hay but never mind.

The Faith of a Crumbeling World (2) "recession Over Oppression"

You know Mr. & Mrs. reader of ethical and non-essential concerns of dismay. Sometimes
along life's journey, there's a crossroad we all will face. "A crossraad along the way", whether
you choose the wrong way or the wrong road. You're only halfway in your posesstion if you
decide that the road is the only way. "Recesstion over Oppression",  being the second part in
my series, this poem is my own opinionated thoughts as I've travel amongst a discontented
journey of crossroads, non-essential along the way.  "Recession over Oppression", to every
man, women, boy and girl are we all headed for that ultiment question, "The Faith of a crum-
beling World". Quite sure you've surrounded yourself from the snare's of the world, so you 
may not have come across many if any crossroads, like how deep is your faith and is what
you are believing GOD to be! is it in direct allignment of the Higher Power you can not see?
You and me, Well-Well you see I cann't term to grip the ethic's of racial acrimonious of the bl-
ind-eye's that claim to see. You may see differently remember (this is only poetry) so don't
come too the crossroad and still be blindsighted by the oppress of demorcracy.
   There's going to War's and rumers of war's, there's going to be people who cann't see the
lord in no skin color but white. Some even say he's black and then there are those that say
he's not the lion of transquility. Recession has brough about high unemployment rate, men
have fallen in love with themselve's moreso now then-then ever before, the bible speaks of
this and a crumbeling world of hater's has no answer, for the men's the womens or the 
young boy's nor answer's to our young girl's. I truly believe this beautifull creator establish
it that way so when crossroads and faithful decision's overtake you. He so love the world that
he allow his only begotten Son to come into the World just to die for the Sin's of the world to
defeat the enemy (Death) too reestablish true believer's of trust, not skin-color Faith but ev-
erlasting  abundantly Power like that of a million Pearl's. For every Women, Man, Boy or girl.
when facing crossroads; (Remember) "The Faith of a Crumbeling World".

Premium Member The 60's - My Bow Legged Girl

MY BOW LEGGED 60's GIRL
    Lyons, Kansas, 1969
I took all of your tank tops and your hose and your sox,
and I put them all together in a little brown box.
I put all of your dresses and your shoes in a sack,
and I wrapped it up because I knew you're never coming back.

I took your funky records and your Playgirl magazines
and dropped them in the trash with all your green and purple jeans.
I took the clothes I bundled up and gave them away,
to the Salvation Army, it seems like yesterday.

You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.

I met a wino on the street, she looks just like you,
she wears a see through blouse and she walks bow legged, too.
She sings those funky songs and plays the guitar outa sight,
and she takes a bath in cheap perfume like you did every night.

She still sings about Viet Nam and love we don't show,
guess she doesn't know that Viet Nam was 30 years ago.
She's out protesting every day and carries a sign,
 bites her toenails ev night just like you did mine.

You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.

She has a job but all she'll say, it ain't chopping wood.
And it's funny how her money lasts, and she lives so good.
She bought a brand new car one day, a pink Cadillac,
and it's got a bar up in front and mattress in the back.

I don't know why she thinks she has to work every day,
cause I never had a job I just live on my welfare pay.
She picks her nose and rolls each bugger in a sugar ball,
and just like you used to do, then she eats them all.

You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.
You never told me you were leaving town,
you never told me you were leaving.

I married her in the park, it seems like yesterday,
and I don't know what I'll do if she doesn't run away.
© Vee Bdosa  Create an image from this poem.

My Friend, Brigit

In me there is a tried and true reflection of the Green
the black, the forest, the damp leaves and the rain in winter.
Everyday in the evening, when the dawn breaks-
 I walk the animal trails to see who came at night,
 in the dark to eat the corn, the moss, the grass.

A stag and three does come every Thursday.
I leave carrots, and bones, and roots, and acorns-
at dusk- in the morning, forage the wild boars
mother and her newborns, with large bullish horns-
under the old oaks, abundant in thorn, and ash.

I had a dream I sat beneath the moon-tide at noon
and Brigit, my bright friend, again was near and dear-
We grew up like sisters and parted as such too soon.
I see her now once a week; Aye, see and hear how to

Know if one's weak know and if one's strong
and now how to write one's wronged wrong.
Send her a message: Ev re:one needs a better,
	 half recalled.
A friend in deed, she comes to console:
A shoulder to laugh on, a story already told.

Aynanin Otesindeki Kadin

Aynanin otesindeki Kadin

Baslangic..
 Yok imkani yok.
 Kagidim kalemim yok.
 Internetimde yukardaki odada.
 Cikamam keyfimi bozamam.

Sonra bulundu kagit ve kalem.
 Yazildi hikaye kalemle.
 Kacinci yuzyildayiz.
 Eski okul ,eski hikaye

Bolum 1
 Lodosun sesi hep yatak odamda.
 Ruyalarimda ugultular devlerin gurultusu.
 Ah ruzgarlari lodosun hapis oldu korkularim firtinalara.
 Martilarin sesleri minarelarde dolanir bagirir uyandirir duslerimden
 Bazen mutlu bazen korku kiz kulesine baktikca ve martilarin sesslerini duydukca.

Nadide can nadir can aynaya baktiginda ne gordun can.

Bolum 2
 Lodosun ve poyrazin ruzgarinda gecti zaman.
 Hikayelerinle buyudu anasinin, kitaplarla buyudu hediyesi babasinin.
 Hele bir hikayeleri var ana da madam Curie den Einstein na
 Dunyayi baris icinde yasatmaya dair binbir hikayeler
 Aynaya baktim , gordum anamin ruhunu.
 Goremiyorum kendimi.

Bolum 3
 Bu antoloji mi olacak?
 Yoksa hikayesi mi hayatin?
 Yukselir sesler bir cig gibi duser.
 Uyanir derin uykusundan Nadide.
 Acilir gune dogan bir cicek gibi hayatina.
 Gordun mu kendini aynada Nadide?

Bolum 4
 Umit ederki ev yapacak da insanlari kurtaracak
 Iste secimi mesleginin ve esinin
 Yil 70 ler sokaklarda birlikte vatan ve bagimsizlik kosusu.
 Bir kisrak gibi yalin bir yagmur damlasi kadar ozgur
 Nadide ve Nadir.

Bolum 4
 Yoklukta sevda ve karanlikta isik bir cocuk.
 Buruk mutluluk gocen nice yigitler.
 Suskun kalmis anilar duser soguk geceler de birer birer.
 Bak be aynaya kendinle bak be umutlarinla.
 Gorulmez olma kir aynayi gec karsiya Nadide.

Reyhan Yucebay

Premium Member The Rhyming ICT Miscellany

addICT - computer nerd with obsessive will
convICT – cybercriminal with pockets to fill

contradICTion - system error likely a fatal fault
afflICTion - computer bug everything grinds to a halt

evICT - delete files not required
verdICT – output results so desired

restrICTion – cybersecurity all under lock and key
benedICTion - data protection means privacy for you and me

derelICT - system obsolescence the queue to scrap
vICTory - successful implementation the progress map

fICTion - virtual reality is all around
dICTate - speech recognition translates sound


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2021 March 21     *1st Place*
List With A Twist
Sponsored by: Charles Messina

Premium Member Chaos In the Conservatory

[Conservatory: A glorified greenhouse stuck
         on the side of your house.

This really happened yesterday, and today…
   Okay, the cactus is poetic license]
                         *

Well, he pooped over here and he pooped over there
That dumb pigeon pooped almost EV-ERY-WHERE
I couldn’t believe what came out of his ass
Each time that pigeon crashed into the glass

He couldn’t get out and got really irate
And head butting glass made that bird defacate
There’s poop on the windows, the chairs and the floor
Cos that stupid pigeon kept missing the door

The worst of it wasn’t the mess on the mat
But the chaotic outcome when pigeon woke cat
House plants and lamp stands were flying around
With light bulbs and compost strewn over the ground

I was left cut and bleeding from scratches and stabs
And I’m smothered in band aids and numerous scabs
But it was neither pigeon nor cat that attacked us
It’s simply what happens when catching a cactus

It grew dark and I switched the outside light on
And then when I looked, that mad pigeon was gone
I felt rather smug and a little bit clever
Til my cat started coughing… and spat out a feather

And that should have been the end of my story
Of the pigeon that ransacked my conservatory
But it’s hot today, I’ve got doors open wide
And two psycho pigeons have just flown inside!

Well, sod them… if they want to cave their heads in
By dive bombing windows, I’ll watch them and grin
But a conservatory, I think I should say
Is a really bad place for a cat litter tray!

                          *

[Apologies to UK Soupers; apparently, we can say ‘ass’ but not ‘A.r.s.e.’]

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