Best Evaded Poems
I am a human in Life
willing to walk
what life grants of paths
with a heart full of chambers
of huge space
allowing each smile
each tear
to set their load on my face.
I believe in the knight
a visitor of dreams
a dweller of nights
dreams that roam a world
of their own
no room for a danger zone
no words would contain
their very tone..
I am a human in Life
I have faith
in what my soul could feel
despite a thousand miles
and the grief I could see
behind the smiles
and understand what I didn’t
get through
and still be there
for the human in you..
I am a human in Life
the world to me
is not just one
and one of them
off the frame of time
no sense of logic
would find a rhyme..
One world
that evaded the capture
of the word..
freed from any bond
an entity nestling
in each brook and pond
within the tune of Nature might
though extreme is the fright
the wonder of a huge vast ocean
is infinite..
I am a human in Life
I entrust every throb of heart
to my solid soul
arid is not my land
rather open and able to expand
with every drop of Love
you would pour on my Land..
I am a human in Life
grateful to Love
for allowing me to learn
how to be of worth
how to comprehend and grow
and how to bond with souls
my beauty to them I owe..
I am a human in Life
grateful to the word
for allowing me to weave my world
the world of poetry
how venerated and adored!.
Let me be the first
to have the audacity to translate,
This piece of mystery molded
in a magical meadow of mistakes,
The reckless subject, there,
just standing still like a landscape of order,
Disfiguring a flow of ridged ribbons
in shapes of unheard names,
Carelessly manipulating my optical
constructors to articulate promises
from paper wings,
Bewitched by the light warm
slash of sun laid upon the raging tides
within trembling silence,
How far charms can go to seduce their
way into a destructive satisfaction,
Might it'd been too kind to dry brush
around the edges of your shadows,
When the basement of your
intentions homed disturbing dreams,
Hunting for the tremors from
freezing nightmares that pray to
bury my ocean and all it's devotion,
Where do the ones who
seek the sins of lost words hide?
While half of the living cling
onto the drifting light,
This shrewd figure that clasps on
the thousand synonyms of shallow tears,
Whisking a bath of blades for
my pane of glass that hold scads of scars,
The pace of time, travels differently
when I try to captivate you through my sketches,
I am told by the tones of my pencil,
that your armor shields a menacing maniac,
Too cowardly to battle for your own persistence,
So hold on to what's left of your timid thoughts,
Sadly strength has long evaded you.
2009 and the expenses scandal
Made Gordon Brown, the Prime Minister, lament
So John Bercow, was appointed new ‘Speaker’
To be ‘The Commons’ new broom, was his intent
But he was faced, with an unlikely challenge
In his efforts to clean up ‘the house’
For running loose, in his official residence
Was a small, grey, furry, wily mouse
‘The Speaker’s’ efforts to entrap his visitor
All failed, with equal measure
So Sally, his wife, used her ‘Twitter’ account
To seek help on catching the creature
“Eeek, we have a mouse!” she did post
“And under the dish washer it’s run,
It’s Sunday, and the ‘mouse-catcher’s’ day off
Can someone tell me – what can be done?”
“My husband’s been ever so manly
But all of his efforts have failed,
Please can someone come up with a plan
To put this small rodent in jail?”
Suggestions came from near and far,
But all of them failed to succeed
The mouse still evaded the Bercow’s grasp
This led Labour MP, Gordon Prentice, to plead
To ‘The Commons’, “Why not have a resident cat
To rid ‘The House’ of the mouse population?”
But the members said, “No – that’s inhumane
We prefer control over eradication
This ‘House’ has stood for centuries, and,
There’s always been a problem with mice
But to bring in a cat, to kill them all
Well, the voters wouldn’t consider that, nice!
That’s why Parliament employs the ‘mouse-catcher’
To monitor and control the pests
So, until he can catch the Bercow’s mouse,
They’ll just have to live with their uninvited guest!”
When ceilings were cast on dreams
air thickened, swelling lungs
with unbreathable mediocrity
pen is clutched
in reluctance of dim witted judgement,
small minded skewed views,
all pushing towards
Oprah Book Club fame
under a midwestern bubble.
That trophy would shine
like the second hand cars surrounding
When ceilings were cast on dreams
a terrified scream evaded me
as lips were bit in the traditional
small town offend-me-not fashion,
my pen faultered and died...
Fear is passion disapating into lonely corners
accepting it's quiet demise
Never realizing sea breeze or sunrise
alive and never living
while calendar pages fly by abandoning
Regret is for mourning souls
past possibilities of redirection
and compromise
I break westward stepping over spilled milk
toward angular man made mountains
Now the pond fish evolution begins
as I swim in bigger waters
insignificant and loving it
feeling anonymity breed inhibition
and onward to infamy
toward my name etched in spines
and altitudes I make my own
**inspired by John Heck's "Edge" contest
Our path, sometimes grows arduous with bends and twists.
Trials of life keep tormenting us and others.
It's miserable to watch or endure such suffering.
But despite all heartache, we feel we are not done.
When I see the swamp bird with broken wings
Struggling to rise from the water’s edge.
When I see the deer, running away from its predator,
With all its might, I am filled with a zest to fight all odds.
In my doubt, such scenes fill me with reassurance,
Making me feel the rush of blood in my veins.
Today is the only day, a minutia of life,
To get all wrongs right, to seize all opportunity.
Adversities can hang heavy on us, pulling us down.
But muster courage and catch the bull by its horn.
Winds may blow, tempests may rise,
But don’t relent, persevere, and endure.
Never allow your fears parade victoriously
Through the spectrum of your dreams
When you feel life as bland and monochrome
Think of the colors of the rainbow arching in heaven
To make life sweet, recall all the sweet moments,
Those that you want to re-live again
Sure, there are a million of them, joyous and sweet,
Exciting, and engaging, pouring balm on our scars.
Let us freeze those moments in time!
Too precious to go off our heart.
They make life worth living, worth cherishing,
Giving each fresh morning a kick start.
Have you forgotten to laugh over a prank?
Have you stopped watching a lovely scene?
Have you evaded a gregarious company?
Have you failed to enjoy a savory cuisine?
Break free of all the ropes that bind!
Let loose the spirit within and let it fly high.
Shed out your dry reticence n’ reserve!
Let your geniality, many hearts win!
When Sun Burns Too Hotly And Blue Sky Melts
Our secret pond laughing and wading there
our hearts joined in Nature's beauty divine.
That we might lose our joy, gave us a scare.
thought of loss, destroyed future -hers and mine.
Summer came, we forgot about that fright
for bliss was to be had with each soft kiss.
Dancing our days, romancing through each night
darling, that and so much more I so miss.
With no saving miracle, our joy lost
we in our great love soared too long, too high.
We dared too deep and paid the heavy cost
now our hearts find only sad, empty sky.
Such memories although old and faded
reveal Fate's hand can not be evaded.
Robert J. Lindley
Sonnet
(Number 5 of 5 in Hope's great treasures series)
Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Words: 114
Note: Great care must be taken to hold such a deep and precious treasure...
For omission brings such tragic costs.
Yet destiny may later bring greater reward if one but maintains Hope, and faith in walking a clear and just path.
For Hope and future are open to change if one reverses course from a dark path and willingly embarks upon a journey to find Light and Truth....
This sonnet the fifth of the five written on the Treasures of Hope tells of Hope lost because Hope was never grasped and held tight.
I deliberately did not use the word hope in the title or in any verse because the narrative presents its ABSENCE(!) AND THE DIRE CONSEQUENCES OF DANCING EVEN IN MOMENTS OF BLISSFUL DARKNESS.
The six sonnet(unwritten) on Hope, is the one I am now living with my wonderful family that I treasure far, far above anything in this life..
As it is --Hope-- , truly realized and held ever so firm..
With more than her share of fake news
Melania suffered the blues
From the President's sleuth
She soon learned the truth
And now spends her days with #MeToos
Our President once shared the thought
That Congress could never be bought
But one Russian tweet
Said Congress was cheap
So Ivanka bought the whole lot
The White House Easter Egg Hunt
Gave Ivanka the ideal front
With some huge discounts
From her Chinese accounts
She evaded every confront
Fabergé is quite a big debt
But not one that she would regret
Like the Easter Bunny
Our Congress is funny
Though the world is not laughing yet!
Donald Trump Junior once said,
"My Dad is the Giver of bread,"
But when Russian around
On foreign ground
Putin will feather his bed!
APRIL FOOL
Les Miserable
I walked and walked down a steep ravine and came across
a village has forgotten by time by a road that evaded dwellings
A track not trodden among boulders and roofs made of canes.
skinny women with empty breasts sat on the bough of trees
waiting for someone to enter their loss of love
While telling their idiot children in the wet grass to shut up
Oh, crying stones free us from the untidy domestic wilderness
where dogs are too indifferent to muster barks.
Under flat stones, the men are hiding the emptiness of the
existence too much to bear now that the vines take no berry
On this day that has no time, but the endlessness of the gone
Cabbage patch, yellow chickens looking for worms before
the children do because they are hungry too.
The picnic was set for today:
A cause for two hips and hooray.
With Split and Blueberry,
Their time would be merry
That’s if nothing got in their way…
The deviled eggs had to come first,
‘Cause a picnic without them’s the worst.
They proceeded to beg
The hens for some eggs,
And boiled them when they were submersed.
But when Bat and Gat started to pack,
Their picnic plans went off the tracks.
It was almost Bat’s fault,
Since the pepper and salt
Hadn’t made it yet into the sack.
The only thing they had to do
Was to pick up their friends Split and Blue.
With a rabbit and goat,
And their deviled egg tote,
They could hike to the overlook view.
Well, the eggs made a pretty nice spread
When added to Split’s honey bread.
But, sitting down eating,
An unwelcome greeting
Then filled them with terror and dread.
’Twas the sound of a huge rattlesnake;
What a racket that rattle did make!
Though none could find him
Out front or behind them,
Poor Blue and Split started to shake.
Then Gat sprung away like the breeze,
And spied him from up in the trees.
She pointed to Bat
Where the rattler was at,
And told everyone else to freeze.
Yikes, the snake tried to strike at his knees;
Bat evaded his strike with great ease.
Quick did a side-stepper,
And doused him with pepper,
And the rattlesnake started to sneeze!
Well, that was the end of the battle;
They all could now safely skedaddle.
The pepper, in fact
Brought such an attack
That his sneezes set off his rattle!
They all walked home in the sun,
And all had turned out to be fun.
An eggcellent day!
Yes, hip, hip hooray!
Bat and Gat, hero cats, number one!
Dear Asia.
I was awakened in the middle of the night
with you on my mind. By the time the clock
struck 12:40 AM, the tears had already appeared.
Before I could wipe those wet-drops away, three
words gushed from the depths of my heart and lay
siege to my mind. I lay there for a good while until
I knew that this heartfelt emotion had to be recorded
and shared with you while it was fresh in my spirit.
Without any utterings from my lips, my heart was
clearly saying, "I'm sorry, Asia". I was feeling
your pain, a pain that must have evaded me 2 years
ago. Two years ago, I think that I was overwhelmed
with the pain I was feeling about losing my little
granddaughter. You were spreading your wings in
directions that terrified me.
I was sorry because I wasn't prepared to see you
through your growing pains. I think that I became
afraid of what I could no longer influence. Papa Girl
was the only you That I knew, and when I no longer saw her,
I became angry and weak, unable to see you through your
hard times that you considered to be your good times.
I felt shut out of your life, and I didn't know how
to keep knocking at the door of a grown-up young lady
who had a mind of her own. You were no longer the
Papa Girl whom I once knew and took to school for
12 years and more.
I'm sorry, Asia, for being weak when you needed me
to be strong enough, understanding enough, and flexible
enough to acquaint myself with the grown-up you. I'm sorry
for not being accepting and loving enough to let go.
Again, I'm sorry Asia. Please forgive me.
Grandpa.
A snow-capped mountain where nobody goes;
a forest thick with foliage and trees;
a river which meanders as it flows
through spaces that nobody likely sees;
an expanse of sand too wide to be traversed;
a tundra where no man cares to abide;
a spot deep in the sea that’s not yet cursed;
a forgotten weed-infested graveside.
In this world where so many places teem
with humanity and the chaos we bring,
there still exists the quiet of a dream
and nature has evaded mankind’s sting.
Where silence listens, sounds are wild or raw,
like wind-rush,
wave-roar or
simple crow-caw.
Tough Love
Sometimes with such strict parents, a tendancy to lend;
overlooking boundaries crossed to be your child's best friend.
I love my son with all my heart just as he does his mother.
Tho the path that he was taking; I just could not go further.
Stunned and hurt when I said, "You have to leave my home."
He wasn't his kind loving self; always drunk or stoned.
I held myself together; to his back I closed the door.
Then litteraly went to pieces falling to knee's upon the floor.
I knew he would end up in prison or maybe even dead,
if he could not shake the demons messing with his head.
It took everything inside me to stick to my decision.
I wanted to run after him, again to him be pleasing.
With tear stained face and puffy eyes I prayed with all my might,
" Please Lord spare me the dreaded phone call that comes so late at night."
Only twice I've heard God's voice aloud, not just a sign.
He said as clear as crystal, "Don't worry about him." "He's mine."
Immediatly I ceased to cry, such comfort in those words.
I know God deals with us best when we are at our worst.
Driving late he had a wreck; two poles ran through his truck.
It was him left praying on his knees; survival was not luck.
The poles crisscrossed around his neck tho he was never touched.
Three inch splinters in his hoodie; didn't miss him much.
The road was rocky coming back but thank the Lord he made it.
God's protective hands covered him; so near a death evaded.
My parents too strict then I too laxed; he's balanced tween the two.
A wonderful husband and father; he began his life anew.
The hardest decision I ever made but I thank God above;
my precious son now understands why I chose tough love.
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am the one that reaches for the highest of heights.
I use the clouds as a helpful step to rest my feet as I reach.
Stretching my arms up high, trying to grasp a hold of the stars.
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am the one that struggles through the thistles and thorns.
Reaching forward, eyes tearing up as I bleed for the light that will soon be mine.
I use the light's rays as motivational beams, urging me forward.
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am the one who fights through the ridicule and puns.
I fly through the maze of the bombardment of insults and put downs, straight to my prize.
I use the tormenting words as encouragement to later prove them wrong.
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am the one that searches for truth.
I wander through a world of lies and tricksters as they try to make me lose focus.
Discovering traps and evading paths of lies by evaluating them with logic and reason.
With every lie evaded, I inch closer to the truth.
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am that one, the one who dreams.
For without dreams I am nothing, but a human with no purpose.
And when my dreams are reached, the scars I will wear proudly.
For the struggles I had faced will stand as validation to how much my dreams are worth.
The Fox 1
Crab holes on the bank….
Furry trap inserted in ,
Wonder blunder ends.
The Fox 2
Thick bushes distant….
Fox nose moves among the twigs to
Get a prey vanquished.
The Fox 3
The fox howls at night….
Trumpet of win over
A dewy-eyed rabbit.
The Wolf 1
Lamb in the pasture….
From the darkness of forest
Death jumps upon fast.
The Wolf 2
Wood smiles in full moon….
Wolf eyes glare among foliage,
Savage beauty lures.
The Wolf 3
Marauding wolf steps….
The soul dances wildly, and
Brute taste oozes out.
The Coyote 1
The distant coyote….
Pointed ears and sharp claws are
Coming to the end.
The Coyote 2
The coyote walks alone….
Seclusion of the woods, but
Evaded though followed.
The Coyote 3
Night howl pierces spring….
Ecstatic movements on hush,
The coyote mounts high.
(For ‘My Inner Animal Contest’ by P. D.)
FABIYAS M V
His depression faded sadness was evaded.